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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Chronicles of Martin Hewitt + +Author: Arthur Morrison + +Release Date: October 22, 2011 [EBook #37820] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRONICLES OF MARTIN HEWITT *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p class="center">Appletons' +Town and Country +Library</p> + +<p class="center">No. 191</p> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h1>CHRONICLES<br /> +OF MARTIN HEWITT</h1> +<p> </p> + +<h3><small>BY</small><br /> +ARTHUR MORRISON</h3> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF TALES OF MEAN STREETS, ETC.</p> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="80" height="95" alt=""/> +</div> +<p> </p> + +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> +1896</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright,</span> 1895, 1896,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.<br /> +</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_IVY_COTTAGE_MYSTERY"><span class="smcap">The Ivy Cottage Mystery</span></a></td><td align='right'>1</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_NICOBAR_BULLION_CASE"><span class="smcap">The Nicobar Bullion Case</span></a></td><td align='right'>42</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_HOLFORD_WILL_CASE"><span class="smcap">The Holford Will Case</span></a></td><td align='right'>94</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CASE_OF_THE_MISSING_HAND"><span class="smcap">The Case of the Missing Hand</span></a></td><td align='right'>138</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CASE_OF_LAKER_ABSCONDED"><span class="smcap">The Case of Laker, Absconded</span></a></td><td align='right'>187</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CASE_OF_THE_LOST_FOREIGNER"><span class="smcap">The Case of the Lost Foreigner</span></a> </td><td align='right'>228</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1><a name="CHRONICLES" id="CHRONICLES"></a>CHRONICLES<br /> +OF MARTIN HEWITT.</h1> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<h2><a name="THE_IVY_COTTAGE_MYSTERY" id="THE_IVY_COTTAGE_MYSTERY"></a>THE IVY COTTAGE MYSTERY.</h2> + + +<p>I had been working double tides for a month: +at night on my morning paper, as usual; and in the +morning on an evening paper as <i>locum tenens</i> for another +man who was taking a holiday. This was an +exhausting plan of work, although it only actually +involved some six hours' attendance a day, or less, +at the two offices. I turned up at the headquarters +of my own paper at ten in the evening, and by the +time I had seen the editor, selected a subject, written +my leader, corrected the slips, chatted, smoked, +and so on, and cleared off, it was very usually one +o'clock. This meant bed at two, or even three, +after supper at the club.</p> + +<p>This was all very well at ordinary periods, when +any time in the morning would do for rising, but +when I had to be up again soon after seven, and +round at the evening paper office by eight, I naturally +felt a little worn and disgusted with things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +by midday, after a sharp couple of hours' leaderette +scribbling and paragraphing, with attendant +sundries.</p> + +<p>But the strain was over, and on the first day of +comparative comfort I indulged in a midday breakfast +and the first undisgusted glance at a morning +paper for a month. I felt rather interested in an inquest, +begun the day before, on the body of a man +whom I had known very slightly before I took to +living in chambers.</p> + +<p>His name was Gavin Kingscote, and he was an +artist of a casual and desultory sort, having, I believe, +some small private means of his own. As a +matter of fact, he had boarded in the same house in +which I had lodged myself for a while, but as I was +at the time a late homer and a fairly early riser, +taking no regular board in the house, we never became +much acquainted. He had since, I understood, +made some judicious Stock Exchange speculations, +and had set up house in Finchley.</p> + +<p>Now the news was that he had been found one +morning murdered in his smoking-room, while the +room itself, with others, was in a state of confusion. +His pockets had been rifled, and his watch and chain +were gone, with one or two other small articles of +value. On the night of the tragedy a friend had +sat smoking with him in the room where the murder +took place, and he had been the last person to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +Mr. Kingscote alive. A jobbing gardener, who kept +the garden in order by casual work from time to +time, had been arrested in consequence of footprints +exactly corresponding with his boots, having been +found on the garden beds near the French window +of the smoking-room.</p> + +<p>I finished my breakfast and my paper, and Mrs. +Clayton, the housekeeper, came to clear my table. +She was sister of my late landlady of the house +where Kingscote had lodged, and it was by this connection +that I had found my chambers. I had not +seen the housekeeper since the crime was first reported, +so I now said:</p> + +<p>"This is shocking news of Mr. Kingscote, Mrs. +Clayton. Did you know him yourself?"</p> + +<p>She had apparently only been waiting for some +such remark to burst out with whatever information +she possessed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she exclaimed: "shocking indeed. +Pore young feller! I see him often when I was at +my sister's, and he was always a nice, quiet gentleman, +so different from some. My sister, she's awful +cut up, sir, I assure you. And what d'you think +'appened, sir, only last Tuesday? You remember +Mr. Kingscote's room where he painted the woodwork +so beautiful with gold flowers, and blue, and +pink? He used to tell my sister she'd always have +something to remember him by. Well, two young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +fellers, gentlemen I can't call them, come and took +that room (it being to let), and went and scratched +off all the paint in mere wicked mischief, and then +chopped up all the panels into sticks and bits! Nice +sort o' gentlemen them! And then they bolted in +the morning, being afraid, I s'pose, of being made +to pay after treating a pore widder's property like +that. That was only Tuesday, and the very next +day the pore young gentleman himself's dead, murdered +in his own 'ouse, and him going to be married +an' all! Dear, dear! I remember once he +said——"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton was a good soul, but once she began +to talk some one else had to stop her. I let her +run on for a reasonable time, and then rose and prepared +to go out. I remembered very well the panels +that had been so mischievously destroyed. They +made the room the show-room of the house, which +was an old one. They were indeed less than half +finished when I came away, and Mrs. Lamb, the +landlady, had shown them to me one day when +Kingscote was out. All the walls of the room were +panelled and painted white, and Kingscote had put +upon them an eccentric but charming decoration, +obviously suggested by some of the work of Mr. +Whistler. Tendrils, flowers, and butterflies in a +quaint convention wandered thinly from panel to +panel, giving the otherwise rather uninteresting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +room an unwonted atmosphere of richness and elegance. +The lamentable jackasses who had destroyed +this had certainly selected the best feature +of the room whereon to inflict their senseless mischief.</p> + +<p>I strolled idly downstairs, with no particular plan +for the afternoon in my mind, and looked in at +Hewitt's offices. Hewitt was reading a note, and +after a little chat he informed me that it had been +left an hour ago, in his absence, by the brother of +the man I had just been speaking of.</p> + +<p>"He isn't quite satisfied," Hewitt said, "with the +way the police are investigating the case, and asks +me to run down to Finchley and look round. Yesterday +I should have refused, because I have five +cases in progress already, but to-day I find that circumstances +have given me a day or two. Didn't +you say you knew the man?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely more than by sight. He was a boarder +in the house at Chelsea where I stayed before I +started chambers."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well; I think I shall look into the thing. +Do you feel particularly interested in the case? I +mean, if you've nothing better to do, would you +come with me?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be very glad," I said. "I was in some +doubt what to do with myself. Shall you start at +once?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think so. Kerrett, just call a cab. By the +way, Brett, which paper has the fullest report of the +inquest yesterday? I'll run over it as we go down."</p> + +<p>As I had only seen one paper that morning, I +could not answer Hewitt's question. So we bought +various papers as we went along in the cab, and I +found the reports while Martin Hewitt studied them. +Summarised, this was the evidence given—</p> + +<p><i>Sarah Dodson</i>, general servant, deposed that she +had been in service at Ivy Cottage, the residence of +the deceased, for five months, the only other regular +servant being the housekeeper and cook. On the +evening of the previous Tuesday both servants retired +a little before eleven, leaving Mr. Kingscote +with a friend in the smoking or sitting room. She +never saw her master again alive. On coming downstairs +the following morning and going to open the +smoking-room windows, she was horrified to discover +the body of Mr. Kingscote lying on the floor +of the room with blood about the head. She at +once raised an alarm, and, on the instructions of the +housekeeper, fetched a doctor, and gave information +to the police. In answer to questions, witness stated +she had heard no noise of any sort during the night, +nor had anything suspicious occurred.</p> + +<p><i>Hannah Carr</i>, housekeeper and cook, deposed +that she had been in the late Mr. Kingscote's service +since he had first taken Ivy Cottage—a period of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +rather more than a year. She had last seen the deceased +alive on the evening of the previous Tuesday, +at half-past ten, when she knocked at the door of +the smoking-room, where Mr. Kingscote was sitting +with a friend, to ask if he would require anything +more. Nothing was required, so witness shortly +after went to bed. In the morning she was called +by the previous witness, who had just gone downstairs, +and found the body of deceased lying as described. +Deceased's watch and chain were gone, as +also was a ring he usually wore, and his pockets appeared +to have been turned out. All the ground +floor of the house was in confusion, and a bureau, +a writing-table, and various drawers were open—a +bunch of keys usually carried by deceased being +left hanging at one keyhole. Deceased had drawn +some money from the bank on the Tuesday, for current +expenses; how much she did not know. She +had not heard or seen anything suspicious during +the night. Besides Dodson and herself, there were +no regular servants; there was a charwoman, who +came occasionally, and a jobbing gardener, living +near, who was called in as required.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. James Vidler</i>, surgeon, had been called by +the first witness between seven and eight on Wednesday +morning. He found the deceased lying on his +face on the floor of the smoking-room, his feet +being about eighteen inches from the window, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +his head lying in the direction of the fireplace. He +found three large contused wounds on the head, any +one of which would probably have caused death. +The wounds had all been inflicted, apparently, with +the same blunt instrument—probably a club or life +preserver, or other similar weapon. They could not +have been done with the poker. Death was due to +concussion of the brain, and deceased had probably +been dead seven or eight hours when witness saw +him. He had since examined the body more closely, +but found no marks at all indicative of a struggle +having taken place; indeed, from the position of the +wounds and their severity, he should judge that the +deceased had been attacked unawares from behind, +and had died at once. The body appeared to be +perfectly healthy.</p> + +<p>Then there was police evidence, which showed +that all the doors and windows were found shut and +completely fastened, except the front door, which, +although shut, was not bolted. There were shutters +behind the French windows in the smoking-room, +and these were found fastened. No money was +found in the bureau, nor in any of the opened drawers, +so that if any had been there, it had been stolen. +The pockets were entirely empty, except for a small +pair of nail scissors, and there was no watch upon +the body, nor a ring. Certain footprints were found +on the garden beds, which had led the police to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +certain steps. No footprints were to be seen on the +garden path, which was hard gravel.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Alexander Campbell</i>, stockbroker, stated that +he had known deceased for some few years, and had +done business for him. He and Mr. Kingscote frequently +called on one another, and on Tuesday evening +they dined together at Ivy Cottage. They sat +smoking and chatting till nearly twelve o'clock, +when Mr. Kingscote himself let him out, the servants +having gone to bed. Here the witness proceeded +rather excitedly: "That is all I know of this +horrible business, and I can say nothing else. What +the police mean by following and watching +me——"</p> + +<p><i>The Coroner</i>: "Pray be calm, Mr. Campbell. The +police must do what seems best to them in a case of +this sort. I am sure you would not have them +neglect any means of getting at the truth."</p> + +<p><i>Witness</i>: "Certainly not. But if they suspect +me, why don't they say so? It is intolerable that +I should be——"</p> + +<p><i>The Coroner</i>: "Order, order, Mr. Campbell. You +are here to give evidence."</p> + +<p>The witness then, in answer to questions, stated +that the French windows of the smoking-room had +been left open during the evening, the weather being +very warm. He could not recollect whether or not +deceased closed them before he left, but he certainly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +did not close the shutters. Witness saw nobody near +the house when he left.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Douglas Kingscote</i>, architect, said deceased +was his brother. He had not seen him for some +months, living as he did in another part of the country. +He believed his brother was fairly well off, and +he knew that he had made a good amount by speculation +in the last year or two. Knew of no person +who would be likely to owe his brother a grudge, +and could suggest no motive for the crime except +ordinary robbery. His brother was to have been +married in a few weeks. Questioned further on this +point, witness said that the marriage was to have +taken place a year ago, and it was with that view +that Ivy Cottage, deceased's residence, was taken. +The lady, however, sustained a domestic bereavement, +and afterwards went abroad with her family: +she was, witness believed, shortly expected back to +England.</p> + +<p><i>William Bates</i>, jobbing gardener, who was brought +up in custody, was cautioned, but elected to give +evidence. Witness, who appeared to be much agitated, +admitted having been in the garden of Ivy +Cottage at four in the morning, but said that he had +only gone to attend to certain plants, and knew absolutely +nothing of the murder. He however admitted +that he had no order for work beyond what +he had done the day before. Being further pressed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +witness made various contradictory statements, and +finally said that he had gone to take certain plants +away.</p> + +<p>The inquest was then adjourned.</p> + +<p>This was the case as it stood—apparently not a +case presenting any very striking feature, although +there seemed to me to be doubtful peculiarities in +many parts of it. I asked Hewitt what he thought.</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible to think anything, my boy, +just yet; wait till we see the place. There are any +number of possibilities. Kingscote's friend, Campbell, +may have come in again, you know, by way of +the window—or he may not. Campbell may have +owed him money or something—or he may not. +The anticipated wedding may have something to do +with it—or, again, <i>that</i> may not. There is no limit +to the possibilities, as far as we can see from this +report—a mere dry husk of the affair. When we get +closer we shall examine the possibilities by the light +of more detailed information. One <i>probability</i> is that +the wretched gardener is innocent. It seems to me +that his was only a comparatively blameless manœuvre +not unheard of at other times in his trade. +He came at four in the morning to steal away the +flowers he had planted the day before, and felt rather +bashful when questioned on the point. Why should +he trample on the beds, else? I wonder if the police +thought to examine the beds for traces of rooting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +up, or questioned the housekeeper as to any plants +being missing? But we shall see."</p> + +<p>We chatted at random as the train drew near +Finchley, and I mentioned <i>inter alia</i> the wanton piece +of destruction perpetrated at Kingscote's late lodgings. +Hewitt was interested.</p> + +<p>"That was curious," he said, "very curious. +Was anything else damaged? Furniture and so +forth?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Mrs. Clayton said nothing of it, +and I didn't ask her. But it was quite bad enough +as it was. The decoration was really good, and I +can't conceive a meaner piece of tomfoolery than +such an attack on a decent woman's property."</p> + +<p>Then Hewitt talked of other cases of similar +stupid damage by creatures inspired by a defective +sense of humour, or mere love of mischief. He had +several curious and sometimes funny anecdotes of +such affairs at museums and picture exhibitions, +where the damage had been so great as to induce +the authorities to call him in to discover the offender. +The work was not always easy, chiefly from the mere +absence of intelligible motive; nor, indeed, always +successful. One of the anecdotes related to a case +of malicious damage to a picture—the outcome of +blind artistic jealousy—a case which had been hushed +up by a large expenditure in compensation. It +would considerably startle most people, could it be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +printed here, with the actual names of the parties +concerned.</p> + +<p>Ivy Cottage, Finchley, was a compact little +house, standing in a compact little square of garden, +little more than a third of an acre, or perhaps no +more at all. The front door was but a dozen yards +or so back from the road, but the intervening space +was well treed and shrubbed. Mr. Douglas Kingscote +had not yet returned from town, but the housekeeper, +an intelligent, matronly woman, who knew +of his intention to call in Martin Hewitt, was ready +to show us the house.</p> + +<p>"<i>First</i>," Hewitt said, when we stood in the +smoking-room, "I observe that somebody has +shut the drawers and the bureau. That is unfortunate. +Also, the floor has been washed and +the carpet taken up, which is much worse. That, +I suppose, was because the police had finished +their examination, but it doesn't help me to make +one at all. Has <i>anything</i>—anything <i>at all</i>—been left +as it was on Tuesday morning?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you see everything was in such a +muddle," the housekeeper began, "and when the +police had done——"</p> + +<p>"Just so. I know. You 'set it to rights,' eh? +Oh, that setting to rights! It has lost me a fortune +at one time and another. As to the other +rooms, now, have they been set to rights?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Such as was disturbed have been put right, +sir, of course."</p> + +<p>"Which were disturbed? Let me see them. +But wait a moment."</p> + +<p>He opened the French windows, and closely examined +the catch and bolts. He knelt and inspected +the holes whereinto the bolts fell, and +then glanced casually at the folding shutters. He +opened a drawer or two, and tried the working of +the locks with the keys the housekeeper carried. +They were, the housekeeper explained, Mr. Kingscote's +own keys. All through the lower floors +Hewitt examined some things attentively and +closely, and others with scarcely a glance, on a +system unaccountable to me. Presently, he asked +to be shown Mr. Kingscote's bedroom, which had +not been disturbed, "set to rights," or slept in since +the crime. Here, the housekeeper said, all drawers +were kept unlocked but two—one in the wardrobe +and one in the dressing-table, which Mr. Kingscote +had always been careful to keep locked. Hewitt +immediately pulled both drawers open without +difficulty. Within, in addition to a few odds and +ends, were papers. All the contents of these +drawers had been turned over confusedly, while +those of the unlocked drawers were in perfect +order.</p> + +<p>"The police," Hewitt remarked, "may not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +observed these matters. Any more than such an +ordinary thing as <i>this</i>," he added, picking up a bent +nail lying at the edge of a rug.</p> + +<p>The housekeeper doubtless took the remark as +a reference to the entire unimportance of a bent +nail, but I noticed that Hewitt dropped the article +quietly into his pocket.</p> + +<p>We came away. At the front gate we met +Mr. Douglas Kingscote, who had just returned +from town. He introduced himself, and expressed +surprise at our promptitude both of coming and +going.</p> + +<p>"You can't have got anything like a clue in this +short time, Mr. Hewitt?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, no," Hewitt replied, with a certain dryness, +"perhaps not. But I doubt whether a month's +visit would have helped me to get anything very +striking out of a washed floor and a houseful of +carefully cleaned-up and 'set-to-rights' rooms. +Candidly, I don't think you can reasonably expect +much of me. The police have a much better +chance—they had the scene of the crime to examine. +I have seen just such a few rooms as any +one might see in the first well-furnished house he +might enter. The trail of the housemaid has overlaid +all the others."</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry for that; the fact was, I expected +rather more of the police; and, indeed, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +wasn't here in time entirely to prevent the clearing +up. But still, I thought your well-known +powers——"</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, my 'well-known powers' are +nothing but common sense assiduously applied and +made quick by habit. That won't enable me to see +the invisible."</p> + +<p>"But can't we have the rooms put back into +something of the state they were in? The cook +will remember——"</p> + +<p>"No, no. That would be worse and worse; that +would only be the housemaid's trail in turn overlaid +by the cook's. You must leave things with me +for a little, I think."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't give the case up?" Mr. Kingscote +asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I don't give it up just yet. Do you +know anything of your brother's private papers—as +they were before his death?"</p> + +<p>"I never knew anything till after that. I have +gone over them, but they are all very ordinary +letters. Do you suspect a theft of papers?"</p> + +<p>Martin Hewitt, with his hands on his stick +behind him, looked sharply at the other, and +shook his head. "No," he said, "I can't quite say +that."</p> + +<p>We bade Mr. Douglas Kingscote good-day, and +walked towards the station. "Great nuisance, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +setting to rights," Hewitt observed, on the way. +"If the place had been left alone, the job might +have been settled one way or another by this +time. As it is, we shall have to run over to your +old lodgings."</p> + +<p>"My old lodgings?" I repeated, amazed. "Why +my old lodgings?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt turned to me with a chuckle and a wide +smile. "Because we can't see the broken panel-work +anywhere else," he said. "Let's see—Chelsea, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Chelsea. But why—you don't suppose the +people who defaced the panels also murdered the +man who painted them?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Hewitt replied, with another smile, "that +would be carrying a practical joke rather far, +wouldn't it? Even for the ordinary picture damager."</p> + +<p>"You mean you <i>don't</i> think they did it, then? +But what <i>do</i> you mean?"</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, I don't mean anything but +what I say. Come now, this is rather an interesting +case despite appearances, and it <i>has</i> interested me: +so much, in fact, that I really think I forgot to +offer Mr. Douglas Kingscote my condolence on his +bereavement. You see a problem is a problem, +whether of theft, assassination, intrigue, or anything +else, and I only think of it as one. The work very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +often makes me forget merely human sympathies. +Now, you have often been good enough to express +a very flattering interest in my work, and you shall +have an opportunity of exercising your own common +sense in the way I am always having to exercise +mine. You shall see all my evidence (if I'm lucky +enough to get any) as I collect it, and you shall +make your own inferences. That will be a little exercise +for you; the sort of exercise I should give a +pupil if I had one. But I will give you what information +I have, and you shall start fairly from this +moment. You know the inquest evidence, such as +it was, and you saw everything I did in Ivy Cottage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I think so. But I'm not much the wiser."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Now I will tell you. What does +the whole case look like? How would you class the +crime?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose as the police do. An ordinary case +of murder with the object of robbery."</p> + +<p>"It is <i>not</i> an ordinary case. If it were, I shouldn't +know as much as I do, little as that is; the ordinary +cases are always difficult. The assailant did not +come to commit a burglary, although he was a +skilled burglar, or one of them was, if more than one +were concerned. The affair has, I think, nothing to +do with the expected wedding, nor had Mr. Campbell +anything to do in it—at any rate, personally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>—nor +the gardener. The criminal (or one of them) +was known personally to the dead man, and was +well-dressed: he (or again one of them, and I think +there were two) even had a chat with Mr. Kingscote +before the murder took place. He came to ask for +something which Mr. Kingscote was unwilling to +part with,—perhaps hadn't got. It was not a bulky +thing. Now you have all my materials before you."</p> + +<p>"But all this doesn't look like the result of the +blind spite that would ruin a man's work first and +attack him bodily afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Spite isn't always blind, and there are other +blind things besides spite; people with good eyes in +their heads are blind sometimes, even detectives."</p> + +<p>"But where did you get all this information? +What makes you suppose that this was a burglar +who didn't want to burgle, and a well-dressed man, +and so on?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt chuckled and smiled again.</p> + +<p>"I saw it—saw it, my boy, that's all," he said. +"But here comes the train."</p> + +<p>On the way back to town, after I had rather +minutely described Kingscote's work on the boarding-house +panels, Hewitt asked me for the names +and professions of such fellow lodgers in that house +as I might remember. "When did you leave yourself?" +he ended.</p> + +<p>"Three years ago, or rather more. I can re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>member +Kingscote himself; Turner, a medical student—James +Turner, I think; Harvey Challitt, diamond +merchant's articled pupil—he was a bad egg +entirely, he's doing five years for forgery now; by +the bye he had the room we are going to see till he +was marched off, and Kingscote took it—a year before +I left; there was Norton—don't know what he +was; 'something in the City,' I think; and Carter +Paget, in the Admiralty Office. I don't remember +any more at this moment; there were pretty frequent +changes. But you can get it all from Mrs. +Lamb, of course."</p> + +<p>"Of course; and Mrs. Lamb's exact address is—what?"</p> + +<p>I gave him the address, and the conversation became +disjointed. At Farringdon station, where we +alighted, Hewitt called two hansoms. Preparing to +enter one, he motioned me to the other, saying, +"You get straight away to Mrs. Lamb's at once. +She may be going to burn that splintered wood, or +to set things to rights, after the manner of her kind, +and you can stop her. I must make one or two +small inquiries, but I shall be there half an hour +after you."</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell her our object?"</p> + +<p>"Only that I may be able to catch her mischievous +lodgers—nothing else yet." He jumped into +the hansom and was gone.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>I found Mrs. Lamb still in a state of indignant +perturbation over the trick served her four days before. +Fortunately, she had left everything in the +panelled room exactly as she had found it, with an +idea of the being better able to demand or enforce +reparation should her lodgers return. "The room's +theirs, you see, sir," she said, "till the end of the +week, since they paid in advance, and they may +come back and offer to make amends, although I +doubt it. As pleasant-spoken a young chap as you +might wish, he seemed, him as come to take the +rooms. 'My cousin,' says he, 'is rather an invalid, +havin' only just got over congestion of the lungs, +and he won't be in London till this evening late. +He's comin' up from Birmingham,' he ses, 'and I +hope he won't catch a fresh cold on the way, although +of course we've got him muffled up plenty.' +He took the rooms, sir, like a gentleman, and mentioned +several gentlemen's names I knew well, as +had lodged here before; and then he put down on +that there very table, sir."—Mrs. Lamb indicated +the exact spot with her hand, as though that made +the whole thing much more wonderful—"he put +down on that very table a week's rent in advance, +and ses, 'That's always the best sort of reference, +Mrs. Lamb, I think,' as kind-mannered as anything—and +never 'aggled about the amount nor nothing. +He only had a little black bag, but he said his cous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>in +had all the luggage coming in the train, and as +there was so much p'r'aps they wouldn't get it here +till next day. Then he went out and came in with +his cousin at eleven that night—Sarah let 'em in her +own self—and in the morning they was gone—and +this!" Poor Mrs. Lamb, plaintively indignant, +stretched her arm towards the wrecked panels.</p> + +<p>"If the gentleman as you say is comin' on, +sir," she pursued, "can do anything to find 'em, +I'll prosecute 'em, that I will, if it costs me ten +pound. I spoke to the constable on the beat, but +he only looked like a fool, and said if I knew where +they were I might charge 'em with wilful damage, +or county court 'em. Of course I know I can do +that if I knew where they were, but how can I find +'em? Mr. Jones he said his name was; but how +many Joneses is there in London, sir?"</p> + +<p>I couldn't imagine any answer to a question like +this, but I condoled with Mrs. Lamb as well as I +could. She afterwards went on to express herself +much as her sister had done with regard to Kingscote's +death, only as the destruction of her panels +loomed larger in her mind, she dwelt primarily on +that. "It might almost seem," she said, "that +somebody had a deadly spite on the pore young +gentleman, and went breakin' up his paintin' one +night, and murderin' him the next!"</p> + +<p>I examined the broken panels with some care,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +having half a notion to attempt to deduce something +from them myself, if possible. But I could +deduce nothing. The beading had been taken out, +and the panels, which were thick in the centre but +bevelled at the edges, had been removed and split +up literally into thin firewood, which lay in a tumbled +heap on the hearth and about the floor. Every +panel in the room had been treated in the same way, +and the result was a pretty large heap of sticks, with +nothing whatever about them to distinguish them +from other sticks, except the paint on one face, +which I observed in many cases had been scratched +and scraped away. The rug was drawn half across +the hearth, and had evidently been used to deaden +the sound of chopping. But mischief—wanton and +stupid mischief—was all I could deduce from it all.</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones's cousin, it seemed, only Sarah had +seen, as she admitted him in the evening, and then +he was so heavily muffled that she could not distinguish +his features, and would never be able to +identify him. But as for the other one, Mrs. Lamb +was ready to swear to him anywhere.</p> + +<p>Hewitt was long in coming, and internal symptoms +of the approach of dinner-time (we had had no +lunch) had made themselves felt before a sharp ring +at the door-bell foretold his arrival. "I have had +to wait for answers to a telegram," he said in explanation, +"but at any rate I have the information I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +wanted. And these are the mysterious panels, are +they?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lamb's true opinion of Martin Hewitt's behaviour +as it proceeded would have been amusing to +know. She watched in amazement the antics of a +man who purposed finding out who had been splitting +sticks by dint of picking up each separate stick +and staring at it. In the end he collected a small +handful of sticks by themselves and handed them to +me, saying, "Just put these together on the table, +Brett, and see what you make of them."</p> + +<p>I turned the pieces painted side up, and fitted +them together into a complete panel, joining up the +painted design accurately. "It is an entire panel," I +said.</p> + +<p>"Good. Now look at the sticks a little more +closely, and tell me if you notice anything peculiar +about them—any particular in which they differ +from all the others."</p> + +<p>I looked. "Two adjoining sticks," I said, "have +each a small semi-circular cavity stuffed with what +seems to be putty. Put together it would mean a +small circular hole, perhaps a knot-hole, half an inch +or so in diameter, in the panel, filled in with putty, or +whatever it is."</p> + +<p>"A <i>knot-hole</i>?" Hewitt asked, with particular +emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Well, no, not a knot-hole, of course, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +that would go right through, and this doesn't. It is +probably less than half an inch deep from the front +surface."</p> + +<p>"Anything else? Look at the whole appearance +of the wood itself. Colour, for instance."</p> + +<p>"It is certainly darker than the rest."</p> + +<p>"So it is." He took the two pieces carrying the +puttied hole, threw the rest on the heap, and addressed +the landlady. "The Mr. Harvey Challitt +who occupied this room before Mr. Kingscote, and +who got into trouble for forgery, was the Mr. Harvey +Challitt who was himself robbed of diamonds a +few months before on a staircase, wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," Mrs. Lamb replied in some bewilderment. +"He certainly was that, on his own office +stairs, chloroformed."</p> + +<p>"Just so, and when they marched him away because +of the forgery, Mr. Kingscote changed into +his rooms?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and very glad I was. It was bad enough +to have the disgrace brought into the house, without +the trouble of trying to get people to take his very +rooms, and I thought——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, very awkward, very awkward!" +Hewitt interrupted rather impatiently. "The man +who took the rooms on Monday, now—you'd never +seen him before, had you?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then is <i>that</i> anything like him?" Hewitt held +a cabinet photograph before her.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—law, yes, that's <i>him</i>!"</p> + +<p>Hewitt dropped the photograph back into his +breast pocket with a contented "Um," and picked +up his hat. "I think we may soon be able to find +that young gentleman for you, Mrs. Lamb. He is +not a very respectable young gentleman, and perhaps +you are well rid of him, even as it is. Come, +Brett," he added, "the day hasn't been wasted, after +all."</p> + +<p>We made towards the nearest telegraph office. +On the way I said, "That puttied-up hole in the +piece of wood seems to have influenced you. Is it +an important link?"</p> + +<p>"Well—yes," Hewitt answered, "it is. But all +those other pieces are important, too."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"Because there are no holes in them." He +looked quizzically at my wondering face, and laughed +aloud. "Come," he said, "I won't puzzle you much +longer. Here is the post-office. I'll send my wire, +and then we'll go and dine at Luzatti's."</p> + +<p>He sent his telegram, and we cabbed it to Luzatti's. +Among actors, journalists, and others who +know town and like a good dinner, Luzatti's is well +known. We went upstairs for the sake of quietness, +and took a table standing alone in a recess just in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>side +the door. We ordered our dinner, and then +Hewitt began:</p> + +<p>"Now tell me what <i>your</i> conclusion is in this +matter of the Ivy Cottage murder."</p> + +<p>"Mine? I haven't one. I'm sorry I'm so very +dull, but I really haven't."</p> + +<p>"Come, I'll give you a point. Here is the newspaper +account (torn sacrilegiously from my scrap-book +for your benefit) of the robbery perpetrated on +Harvey Challitt a few months before his forgery. +Read it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I remember the circumstances very +well. He was carrying two packets of diamonds +belonging to his firm downstairs to the office of +another firm of diamond merchants on the ground-floor. +It was a quiet time in the day, and half-way +down he was seized on a dark landing, made insensible +by chloroform, and robbed of the diamonds—five +or six thousand pounds' worth altogether, of +stones of various smallish individual values up to +thirty pounds or so. He lay unconscious on the +landing till one of the partners, noticing that he had +been rather long gone, followed and found him. +That's all, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's all. Well, what do you make +of it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't quite see the connection with +this case."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, then, I'll give you another point. The +telegram I've just sent releases information to the +police, in consequence of which they will probably +apprehend Harvey Challitt and his confederate, +Henry Gillard, <i>alias</i> Jones, for the murder of Gavin +Kingscote. Now, then."</p> + +<p>"Challitt! But he's in gaol already."</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, consider. Five years' penal was his +dose, although for the first offence, because the +forgery was of an extremely dangerous sort. You +left Chelsea over three years ago yourself, and you +told me that his difficulty occurred a year before. +That makes four years, at least. Good conduct in +prison brings a man out of a five years' sentence in +that time or a little less, and, as a matter of fact, +Challitt was released rather more than a week ago."</p> + +<p>"Still, I'm afraid I don't see what you are driving +at."</p> + +<p>"Whose story is this about the diamond robbery +from Harvey Challitt?"</p> + +<p>"His own."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. His own. Does his subsequent +record make him look like a person whose stories are +to be accepted without doubt or question?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no. I think I see—no, I don't. You +mean he stole them himself? I've a sort of dim +perception of your drift now, but still I can't fix it. +The whole thing's too complicated."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is a little complicated for a first effort, I admit, +so I will tell you. This is the story. Harvey Challitt +is an artful young man, and decides on a theft of +his firm's diamonds. He first prepares a hiding-place +somewhere near the stairs of his office, and +when the opportunity arrives he puts the stones +away, spills his chloroform, and makes a smell—possibly +sniffs some, and actually goes off on the +stairs, and the whole thing's done. He is carried +into the office—the diamonds are gone. He tells of +the attack on the stairs, as we have heard, and he is +believed. At a suitable opportunity he takes his +plunder from the hiding-place, and goes home to his +lodgings. What is he to do with those diamonds? +He can't sell them yet, because the robbery is publicly +notorious, and all the regular jewel buyers +know him.</p> + +<p>"Being a criminal novice, he doesn't know any +regular receiver of stolen goods, and if he did would +prefer to wait and get full value by an ordinary sale. +There will always be a danger of detection so long +as the stones are not securely hidden, so he proceeds +to hide them. He knows that if any suspicion were +aroused his rooms would be searched in every likely +place, so he looks for an unlikely place. Of course, +he thinks of taking out a panel and hiding them behind +that. But the idea is so obvious that it won't +do; the police would certainly take those panels out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +to look behind them. Therefore he determines to +hide them <i>in</i> the panels. See here—he took the +two pieces of wood with the filled hole from his tail +pocket and opened his penknife—the putty near +the surface is softer than that near the bottom of +the hole; two different lots of putty, differently +mixed, perhaps, have been used, therefore, presumably, +at different times."</p> + +<p>"But to return to Challitt. He makes holes with +a centre-bit in different places on the panels, and in +each hole he places a diamond, embedding it carefully +in putty. He smooths the surface carefully +flush with the wood, and then very carefully paints +the place over, shading off the paint at the edges so +as to leave no signs of a patch. He doesn't do the +whole job at once, creating a noise and a smell of +paint, but keeps on steadily, a few holes at a time, +till in a little while the whole wainscoting is set with +hidden diamonds, and every panel is apparently +sound and whole."</p> + +<p>"But, then—there was only one such hole in the +whole lot."</p> + +<p>"Just so, and that very circumstance tells us the +whole truth. Let me tell the story first—I'll explain +the clue after. The diamonds lie hidden for a few +months—he grows impatient. He wants the money, +and he can't see a way of getting it. At last he determines +to make a bolt and go abroad to sell his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +plunder. He knows he will want money for expenses, +and that he may not be able to get rid of +his diamonds at once. He also expects that his suddenly +going abroad while the robbery is still in people's +minds will bring suspicion on him in any case, +so, in for a penny in for a pound, he commits a bold +forgery, which, had it been successful, would have +put him in funds and enabled him to leave the country +with the stones. But the forgery is detected, +and he is haled to prison, leaving the diamonds in +their wainscot setting.</p> + +<p>"Now we come to Gavin Kingscote. He must +have been a shrewd fellow—the sort of man that +good detectives are made of. Also he must have +been pretty unscrupulous. He had his suspicions +about the genuineness of the diamond robbery, and +kept his eyes open. What indications he had to +guide him we don't know, but living in the same +house a sharp fellow on the look-out would probably +see enough. At any rate, they led him to the +belief that the diamonds were in the thief's rooms, +but not among his movables, or they would have +been found after the arrest. Here was his chance. +Challitt was out of the way for years, and there was +plenty of time to take the house to pieces if it were +necessary. So he changed into Challitt's rooms.</p> + +<p>"How long it took him to find the stones we +shall never know. He probably tried many other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +places first, and, I expect, found the diamonds at +last by pricking over the panels with a needle. +Then came the problem of getting them out without +attracting attention. He decided not to trust +to the needle, which might possibly leave a stone +or two undiscovered, but to split up each panel carefully +into splinters so as to leave no part unexamined. +Therefore he took measurements, and had a +number of panels made by a joiner of the exact size +and pattern of those in the room, and announced to +his landlady his intention of painting her panels with +a pretty design. This to account for the wet paint, +and even for the fact of a panel being out of the +wall, should she chance to bounce into the room at +an awkward moment. All very clever, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Very."</p> + +<p>"Ah, he was a smart man, no doubt. Well, he +went to work, taking out a panel, substituting a new +one, painting it over, and chopping up the old one +on the quiet, getting rid of the splinters out of doors +when the booty had been extracted. The decoration +progressed and the little heap of diamonds +grew. Finally, he came to the last panel, but found +that he had used all his new panels and hadn't one +left for a substitute. It must have been at some +time when it was difficult to get hold of the joiner—Bank +Holiday, perhaps, or Sunday, and he was impatient. +So he scraped the paint off, and went care<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>fully +over every part of the surface—experience had +taught him by this that all the holes were of the +same sort—and found one diamond. He took it +out, refilled the hole with putty, painted the old +panel and put it back. <i>These</i> are pieces of that old +panel—the only old one of the lot.</p> + +<p>"Nine men out of ten would have got out of the +house as soon as possible after the thing was done, +but he was a cool hand and stayed. That made the +whole thing look a deal more genuine than if he had +unaccountably cleared out as soon as he had got his +room nicely decorated. I expect the original capital +for those Stock Exchange operations we heard of +came out of those diamonds. He stayed as long as +suited him, and left when he set up housekeeping +with a view to his wedding. The rest of the story +is pretty plain. You guess it, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I think I can guess the rest, in +a general sort of way—except as to one or two +points."</p> + +<p>"It's all plain—perfectly. See here! Challitt, +in gaol, determines to get those diamonds when he +comes out. To do that without being suspected it +will be necessary to hire the room. But he knows +that he won't be able to do that himself, because the +landlady, of course, knows him, and won't have an +ex-convict in the house. There is no help for it; he +must have a confederate, and share the spoil. So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +he makes the acquaintance of another convict, who +seems a likely man for the job, and whose sentence +expires about the same time as his own. When they +come out, he arranges the matter with this confederate, +who is a well-mannered (and pretty well-known) +housebreaker, and the latter calls at Mrs. Lamb's +house to look for rooms. The very room itself +happens to be to let, and of course it is taken, and +Challitt (who is the invalid cousin) comes in at night +muffled and unrecognisable.</p> + +<p>"The decoration on the panel does not alarm +them, because, of course, they suppose it to have +been done on the old panels and over the old paint. +Challitt tries the spots where diamonds were left—there +are none—there is no putty even. Perhaps, +think they, the panels have been shifted and interchanged +in the painting, so they set to work and +split them all up as we have seen, getting more desperate +as they go on. Finally they realize that they +are done, and clear out, leaving Mrs. Lamb to mourn +over their mischief.</p> + +<p>"They know that Kingscote is the man who has +forestalled them, because Gillard (or Jones), in his +chat with the landlady, has heard all about him and +his painting of the panels. So the next night they +set off for Finchley. They get into Kingscote's garden +and watch him let Campbell out. While he is +gone, Challitt quietly steps through the French win<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>dow +into the smoking-room, and waits for him, Gillard +remaining outside.</p> + +<p>"Kingscote returns, and Challitt accuses him of +taking the stones. Kingscote is contemptuous—doesn't +care for Challitt, because he knows he is +powerless, being the original thief himself; besides, +knows there is no evidence, since the diamonds are +sold and dispersed long ago. Challitt offers to divide +the plunder with him—Kingscote laughs and +tells him to go; probably threatens to throw him +out, Challitt being the smaller man. Gillard, at the +open window, hears this, steps in behind, and quietly +knocks him on the head. The rest follows as a matter +of course. They fasten the window and shutters, +to exclude observation; turn over all the drawers, +etc., in case the jewels are there; go to the best bedroom +and try there, and so on. Failing (and possibly +being disturbed after a few hours' search by the +noise of the acquisitive gardener), Gillard, with the +instinct of an old thief, determines they shan't go +away with nothing, so empties Kingscote's pockets +and takes his watch and chain and so on. They go +out by the front door and shut it after them. <i>Voilà +tout.</i>"</p> + +<p>I was filled with wonder at the prompt ingenuity +of the man who in these few hours of hurried inquiry +could piece together so accurately all the materials +of an intricate and mysterious affair such as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +this; but more, I wondered where and how he had +collected those materials.</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt, Hewitt," I said, "that the +accurate and minute application of what you are +pleased to call your common sense has become something +very like an instinct with you. What did you +deduce from? You told me your conclusions from +the examination of Ivy Cottage, but not how you +arrived at them."</p> + +<p>"They didn't leave me much material downstairs, +did they? But in the bedroom, the two drawers +which the thieves found locked were ransacked—opened +probably with keys taken from the dead +man. On the floor I saw a bent French nail; here +it is. You see, it is twice bent at right angles, near +the head and near the point, and there is the faint +mark of the pliers that were used to bend it. It is a +very usual burglars' tool, and handy in experienced +hands to open ordinary drawer locks. Therefore, I +knew that a professional burglar had been at work. +He had probably fiddled at the drawers with the nail +first, and then had thrown it down to try the dead +man's keys.</p> + +<p>"But I knew this professional burglar didn't +come for a burglary, from several indications. There +was no attempt to take plate, the first thing a burglar +looks for. Valuable clocks were left on mantelpieces, +and other things that usually go in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +ordinary burglary were not disturbed. Notably, it +was to be observed that no doors or windows were +broken, or had been forcibly opened; therefore, it +was plain that the thieves had come in by the French +window of the smoking-room, the only entrance left +open at the last thing. <i>Therefore</i>, they came in, or +one did, knowing that Mr. Kingscote was up, and +being quite willing—presumably anxious—to see +him. Ordinary burglars would have waited till he +had retired, and then could have got through the +closed French window as easily almost as if it were +open, notwithstanding the thin wooden shutters, +which would never stop a burglar for more than five +minutes. Being anxious to see him, they—or again, +<i>one</i> of them—presumably knew him. That they had +come to <i>get</i> something was plain, from the ransacking. +As, in the end, they <i>did</i> steal his money, and +watch, but did <i>not</i> take larger valuables, it was plain +that they had no bag with them—which proves not +only that they had not come to burgle, for every +burglar takes his bag, but that the thing they came +to get was not bulky. Still, they could easily have +removed plate or clocks by rolling them up in a +table-cover or other wrapper, but such a bundle, carried +by well-dressed men, would attract attention—therefore +it was probable that they were well dressed. +Do I make it clear?"</p> + +<p>"Quite—nothing seems simpler now it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +explained—that's the way with difficult puzzles."</p> + +<p>"There was nothing more to be got at the house. +I had already in my mind the curious coincidence +that the panels at Chelsea had been broken the very +night before that of the murder, and determined to +look at them in any case. I got from you the name +of the man who had lived in the panelled room before +Kingscote, and at once remembered it (although +I said nothing about it) as that of the young man +who had been chloroformed for his employer's diamonds. +I keep things of that sort in my mind, you +see—and, indeed, in my scrap-book. You told me +yourself about his imprisonment, and there I was +with what seemed now a hopeful case getting into a +promising shape.</p> + +<p>"You went on to prevent any setting to rights at +Chelsea, and I made enquiries as to Challitt. I +found he had been released only a few days before +all this trouble arose, and I also found the name of +another man who was released from the same establishment +only a few days earlier. I knew this man +(Gillard) well, and knew that nobody was a more +likely rascal for such a crime as that at Finchley. +On my way to Chelsea I called at my office, gave +my clerk certain instructions, and looked up my +scrap-book. I found the newspaper account of the +chloroform business, and also a photograph of Gil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>lard—I +keep as many of these things as I can collect. +What I did at Chelsea you know. I saw that one +panel was of old wood and the rest new. I saw the +hole in the old panel, and I asked one or two questions. +The case was complete."</p> + +<p>We proceeded with our dinner. Presently I said: +"It all rests with the police now, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. I should think it very probable that +Challitt and Gillard will be caught. Gillard, at any +rate, is pretty well known. It will be rather hard on +the surviving Kingscote, after engaging me, to have +his dead brother's diamond transactions publicly exposed +as a result, won't it? But it can't be helped. +<i>Fiat justitia</i>, of course."</p> + +<p>"How will the police feel over this?" I asked. +"You've rather cut them out, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the police are all right. They had not the +information I had, you see; they knew nothing of +the panel business. If Mrs. Lamb had gone to Scotland +Yard instead of to the policeman on the beat, +perhaps I should never have been sent for."</p> + +<p>The same quality that caused Martin Hewitt to +rank as mere "common-sense" his extraordinary +power of almost instinctive deduction, kept his respect +for the abilities of the police at perhaps a +higher level than some might have considered justified.</p> + +<p>We sat some little while over our dessert, talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +as we sat, when there occurred one of those curious +conjunctions of circumstances that we notice again +and again in ordinary life, and forget as often, unless +the importance of the occasion fixes the matter in +the memory. A young man had entered the dining-room, +and had taken his seat at a corner table near +the back window. He had been sitting there for +some little time before I particularly observed him. +At last he happened to turn his thin, pale face in my +direction, and our eyes met. It was Challitt—the +man we had been talking of!</p> + +<p>I sprang to my feet in some excitement.</p> + +<p>"That's the man!" I cried. "Challitt!"</p> + +<p>Hewitt rose at my words, and at first attempted +to pull me back. Challitt, in guilty terror, saw that +we were between him and the door, and turning, +leaped upon the sill of the open window, and dropped +out. There was a fearful crash of broken glass below, +and everybody rushed to the window.</p> + +<p>Hewitt drew me through the door, and we ran +downstairs. "Pity you let out like that," he said, +as he went. "If you'd kept quiet we could have +sent out for the police with no trouble. Never mind—can't +help it."</p> + +<p>Below, Challitt was lying in a broken heap in +the midst of a crowd of waiters. He had crashed +through a thick glass skylight and fallen, back +downward, across the back of a lounge. He was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +taken away on a stretcher unconscious, and, in fact, +died in a week in hospital from injuries to the spine.</p> + +<p>During his periods of consciousness he made a +detailed statement, bearing out the conclusions of +Martin Hewitt with the most surprising exactness, +down to the smallest particulars. He and Gillard +had parted immediately after the crime, judging it +safer not to be seen together. He had, he affirmed, +endured agonies of fear and remorse in the few days +since the fatal night at Finchley, and had even once +or twice thought of giving himself up. When I so +excitedly pointed him out, he knew at once that the +game was up, and took the one desperate chance of +escape that offered. But to the end he persistently +denied that he had himself committed the murder, or +had even thought of it till he saw it accomplished. +That had been wholly the work of Gillard, who, +listening at the window and perceiving the drift of +the conversation, suddenly beat down Kingscote +from behind with a life-preserver. And so Harvey +Challitt ended his life at the age of twenty-six.</p> + +<p>Gillard was never taken. He doubtless left the +country, and has probably since that time become +"known to the police" under another name abroad. +Perhaps he has even been hanged, and if he has been, +there was no miscarriage of justice, no matter what +the charge against him may have been.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_NICOBAR_BULLION_CASE" id="THE_NICOBAR_BULLION_CASE"></a>THE <i>NICOBAR</i> BULLION CASE.</h2> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p>The whole voyage was an unpleasant one, and +Captain Mackrie, of the Anglo-Malay Company's +steamship <i>Nicobar</i>, had at last some excuse for the +ill-temper that had made him notorious and unpopular +in the company's marine staff. Although the +fourth and fifth mates in the seclusion of their berth +ventured deeper in their search for motives, and +opined that the "old man" had made a deal less out +of this voyage than usual, the company having lately +taken to providing its own stores; so that "makings" +were gone clean and "cumshaw" (which +means commission in the trading lingo of the China +seas) had shrunk small indeed. In confirmation +they adduced the uncommonly long face of the steward +(the only man in the ship satisfied with the skipper), +whom the new regulations hit with the same +blow. But indeed the steward's dolor might well be +credited to the short passenger list, and the unpromising +aspect of the few passengers in the eyes of a +man accustomed to gauge one's tip-yielding capac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>ity +a month in advance. For the steward it was altogether +the wrong time of year, the wrong sort of +voyage, and certainly the wrong sort of passengers. +So that doubtless the confidential talk of the fourth +and fifth officers was mere youthful scandal. At +any rate, the captain had prospect of a good deal in +private trade home, for he had been taking curiosities +and Japanese oddments aboard (plainly for sale +in London) in a way that a third steward would +have been ashamed of, and which, for a captain, was +a scandal and an ignominy; and he had taken pains +to insure well for the lot. These things the fourth +and fifth mates often spoke of, and more than once +made a winking allusion to, in the presence of the +third mate and the chief engineer, who laughed and +winked too, and sometimes said as much to the second +mate, who winked without laughing; for of such +is the tittle-tattle of shipboard.</p> + +<p>The <i>Nicobar</i> was bound home with few passengers, +as I have said, a small general cargo, and gold +bullion to the value of £200,000—the bullion to be +landed at Plymouth, as usual. The presence of this +bullion was a source of much conspicuous worry on +the part of the second officer, who had charge of the +bullion-room. For this was his first voyage on his +promotion from third officer, and the charge of +£200,000 worth of gold bars was a thing he had not +been accustomed to. The placid first officer pointed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +out to him that this wasn't the first shipment of bullion +the world had ever known, by a long way, nor +the largest. Also that every usual precaution was +taken, and the keys were in the captain's cabin; so +that he might reasonably be as easy in his mind as +the few thousand other second officers who had had +charge of hatches and special cargo since the world +began. But this did not comfort Brasyer. He +fidgeted about when off watch, considering and puzzling +out the various means by which the bullion-room +might be got at, and fidgeted more when on +watch, lest somebody might be at that moment putting +into practice the ingenious dodges he had +thought of. And he didn't keep his fears and speculations +to himself. He bothered the first officer +with them, and when the first officer escaped he explained +the whole thing at length to the third officer.</p> + +<p>"Can't think what the company's about," he said +on one such occasion to the first mate, "calling a +tin-pot bunker like that a bullion-room."</p> + +<p>"Skittles!" responded the first mate, and went +on smoking.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all very well for you who aren't responsible," +Brasyer went on, "but I'm pretty sure +something will happen some day; if not on this voyage +on some other. Talk about a strong room! +Why, what's it made of?"</p> + +<p>"Three-eighths boiler plate."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, three-eighths boiler plate—about as good +as a sixpenny tin money box. Why, I'd get through +that with my grandmother's scissors!"</p> + +<p>"All right; borrow 'em and get through. <i>I</i> +would if I had a grandmother."</p> + +<p>"There it is down below there out of sight and +hearing, nice and handy for anybody who likes to +put in a quiet hour at plate cutting from the coal +bunker next door—always empty, because it's only +a seven-ton bunker, not worth trimming. And the +other side's against the steward's pantry. What's to +prevent a man shipping as steward, getting quietly +through while he's supposed to be bucketing about +among his slops and his crockery, and strolling +away with the plunder at the next port? And then +there's the carpenter. <i>He's</i> always messing about +somewhere below, with a bag full of tools. Nothing +easier than for him to make a job in a quiet corner, +and get through the plates."</p> + +<p>"But then what's he to do with the stuff when +he's got it? You can't take gold ashore by the hundredweight +in your boots."</p> + +<p>"Do with it. Why, dump it, of course. Dump +it overboard in a quiet port and mark the spot. +Come to that, he could desert clean at Port Said—what +easier place?—and take all he wanted. You +know what Port Said's like. Then there are the +firemen—oh, <i>anybody</i> can do it!" And Brasyer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +moved off to take another peep under the hatchway.</p> + +<p>The door of the bullion-room was fastened by +one central patent lock and two padlocks, one above +and one below the other lock. A day or two after +the conversation recorded above, Brasyer was carefully +examining and trying the lower of the padlocks +with a key, when a voice immediately behind him +asked sharply, "Well, sir, and what are you up to +with that padlock?"</p> + +<p>Brasyer started violently and looked round. It +was Captain Mackrie.</p> + +<p>"There's—that is—I'm afraid these are the same +sort of padlocks as those in the carpenter's stores," +the second mate replied, in a hurry of explanation. +"I—I was just trying, that's all; I'm afraid the keys +fit."</p> + +<p>"Just you let the carpenter take care of his own +stores, will you, Mr. Brasyer? There's a Chubb's +lock there as well as the padlocks, and the key of +that's in my cabin, and I'll take care doesn't go out +of it without my knowledge. So perhaps you'd best +leave off experiments till you're asked to make 'em, +for your own sake. That's enough now," the captain +added, as Brasyer appeared to be ready to reply; +and he turned on his heel and made for the +steward's quarters.</p> + +<p>Brasyer stared after him ragefully. "Wonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +what <i>you</i> want down here," he muttered under his +breath. "Seems to me one doesn't often see a +skipper as thick with the steward as that." And he +turned off growling towards the deck above.</p> + +<p>"Hanged if I like that steward's pantry stuck +against the side of the bullion-room," he said later +in the day to the first officer. "And what does a +steward want with a lot of boiler-maker's tools +aboard? You know he's got them."</p> + +<p>"In the name of the prophet, rats!" answered +the first mate, who was of a less fussy disposition. +"What a fatiguing creature you are, Brasyer! +Don't you know the man's a boiler-maker by regular +trade, and has only taken to stewardship for the +last year or two? That sort of man doesn't like +parting with his tools, and as he's a widower, with +no home ashore, of course he has to carry all his +traps aboard. Do shut up, and take your proper +rest like a Christian. Here, I'll give you a cigar; +it's all right—Burman; stick it in your mouth, and +keep your jaw tight on it."</p> + +<p>But there was no soothing the second officer. +Still he prowled about the after orlop deck, and +talked at large of his anxiety for the contents of the +bullion-room. Once again, a few days later, as he +approached the iron door, he was startled by the +appearance of the captain coming, this time, <i>from</i> +the steward's pantry. He fancied he had heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +tapping, Brasyer explained, and had come to investigate. +But the captain turned him back with even +less ceremony than before, swearing he would give +charge of the bullion-room to another officer if +Brasyer persisted in his eccentricities. On the first +deck the second officer was met by the carpenter, a +quiet, sleek, soft-spoken man, who asked him for the +padlock and key he had borrowed from the stores +during the week. But Brasyer put him off, promising +to send it back later. And the carpenter trotted +away to a job he happened to have, singularly +enough, in the hold, just under the after orlop deck, +and below the floor of the bullion-room.</p> + +<p>As I have said, the voyage was in no way a +pleasant one. Everywhere the weather was at its +worst, and scarce was Gibraltar passed before the +Lascars were shivering in their cotton trousers, and +the Seedee boys were buttoning tight such old tweed +jackets as they might muster from their scanty kits. +It was January. In the Bay the weather was tremendous, +and the <i>Nicobar</i> banged and shook and +pitched distractedly across in a howling world of +thunderous green sea, washed within and without, +above and below. Then, in the Chops, as night fell, +something went, and there was no more steerage-way, +nor, indeed, anything else but an aimless wallowing. +The screw had broken.</p> + +<p>The high sea had abated in some degree, but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +was still bad. Such sail as the steamer carried, inadequate +enough, was set, and shift was made somehow +to worry along to Plymouth—or to Falmouth if +occasion better served—by that means. And so the +<i>Nicobar</i> beat across the Channel on a rather better, +though anything but smooth, sea, in a black night, +made thicker by a storm of sleet, which turned +gradually to snow as the hours advanced.</p> + +<p>The ship laboured slowly ahead, through a universal +blackness that seemed to stifle. Nothing but +a black void above, below, and around, and the +sound of wind and sea; so that one coming before +a deck-light was startled by the quiet advent of the +large snowflakes that came like moths as it seemed +from nowhere. At four bells—two in the morning—a +foggy light appeared away on the starboard +bow—it was the Eddystone light—and an hour or +two later, the exact whereabouts of the ship being a +thing of much uncertainty, it was judged best to lay +her to till daylight. No order had yet been given, +however, when suddenly there were dim lights over +the port quarter, with a more solid blackness beneath +them. Then a shout and a thunderous crash, +and the whole ship shuddered, and in ten seconds +had belched up every living soul from below. The +<i>Nicobar's</i> voyage was over—it was a collision.</p> + +<p>The stranger backed off into the dark, and the +two vessels drifted apart, though not till some from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +the <i>Nicobar</i> had jumped aboard the other. Captain +Mackrie's presence of mind was wonderful, and +never for a moment did he lose absolute command +of every soul on board. The ship had already begun +to settle down by the stern and list to port. +Life-belts were served out promptly. Fortunately +there were but two women among the passengers, +and no children. The boats were lowered without a +mishap, and presently two strange boats came as +near as they dare from the ship (a large coasting +steamer, it afterwards appeared) that had cut into +the <i>Nicobar</i>. The last of the passengers were being +got off safely, when Brasyer, running anxiously to +the captain, said:—</p> + +<p>"Can't do anything with that bullion, can we, +sir? Perhaps a box or two——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, damn the bullion!" shouted Captain Mackrie. +"Look after the boat, sir, and get the passengers +off. The insurance companies can find the bullion +for themselves."</p> + +<p>But Brasyer had vanished at the skipper's first +sentence. The skipper turned aside to the steward +as the crew and engine-room staff made for the remaining +boats, and the two spoke quietly together. +Presently the steward turned away as if to execute +an order, and the skipper continued in a louder +tone:—</p> + +<p>"They're the likeliest stuff, and we can but drop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +'em, at worst. But be slippy—she won't last ten +minutes."</p> + +<p>She lasted nearly a quarter of an hour. By that +time, however, everybody was clear of her, and the +captain in the last boat was only just near enough +to see the last of her lights as she went down.</p> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p>The day broke in a sulky grey, and there lay the +<i>Nicobar</i>, in ten fathoms, not a mile from the shore, +her topmasts forlornly visible above the boisterous +water. The sea was rough all that day, but the +snow had ceased, and during the night the weather +calmed considerably. Next day Lloyd's agent was +steaming about in a launch from Plymouth, and +soon a salvage company's tug came up and lay to by +the emerging masts. There was every chance of +raising the ship as far as could be seen, and a diver +went down from the salvage tug to measure the +breach made in the <i>Nicobar's</i> side, in order that the +necessary oak planking or sheeting might be got +ready for covering the hole, preparatory to pumping +and raising. This was done in a very short +time, and the necessary telegrams having been sent, +the tug remained in its place through the night, +and prepared for the sending down of several divers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +on the morrow to get out the bullion as a commencement.</p> + +<p>Just at this time Martin Hewitt happened to be +engaged on a case of some importance and delicacy +on behalf of Lloyd's Committee, and was staying +for a few days at Plymouth. He heard the story of +the wreck, of course, and speaking casually with +Lloyd's agent as to the salvage work just beginning, +he was told the name of the salvage company's representative +on the tug, Mr. Percy Merrick—a name +he immediately recognised as that of an old acquaintance +of his own. So that on the day when +the divers were at work in the bullion-room of the +sunken <i>Nicobar</i>, Hewitt gave himself a holiday, and +went aboard the tug about noon.</p> + +<p>Here he found Merrick, a big, pleasant man of +thirty-eight or so. He was very glad to see Hewitt, +but was a great deal puzzled as to the results of the +morning's work on the wreck. Two cases of gold +bars were missing.</p> + +<p>"There was £200,000 worth of bullion on +board," he said, "that's plain and certain. It was +packed in forty cases, each of £5,000 value. But +now there are only thirty-eight cases! Two are +gone clearly. I wonder what's happened?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose your men don't know anything about +it?" asked Hewitt.</p> + +<p>"No, they're all right. You see, it's impossible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +for them to bring anything up without its being observed, +especially as they have to be unscrewed from +their diving-dresses here on deck. Besides, bless +you, I was down with them."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Do you dive yourself, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I put the dress on sometimes, you know, +for any such special occasion as this. I went down +this morning. There was no difficulty in getting +about on the vessel below, and I found the keys of +the bullion-room just where the captain said I +would, in his cabin. But the locks were useless, of +course, after being a couple of days in salt water. +So we just burgled the door with crowbars, and then +we saw that we might have done it a bit more easily +from outside. For that coasting-steamer cut clean +into the bunker next the bullion-room, and ripped +open the sheet of boiler-plate dividing them."</p> + +<p>"The two missing cases couldn't have dropped +out that way, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. We looked, of course, but it would +have been impossible. The vessel has a list the +other way—to starboard—and the piled cases didn't +reach as high as the torn part. Well, as I said, we +burgled the door, and there they were, thirty-eight +sealed bullion cases, neither more nor less, and +they're down below in the after-cabin at this moment. +Come and see."</p> + +<p>Thirty-eight they were; pine cases bound with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +hoop-iron and sealed at every joint, each case about +eighteen inches by a foot, and six inches deep. +They were corded together, two and two, apparently +for convenience of transport.</p> + +<p>"Did you cord them like this yourself?" asked +Hewitt.</p> + +<p>"No, that's how we found 'em. We just hooked +'em on a block and tackle, the pair at a time, and +they hauled 'em up here aboard the tug."</p> + +<p>"What have you done about the missing two—anything?"</p> + +<p>"Wired off to headquarters, of course, at once. +And I've sent for Captain Mackrie—he's still in the +neighbourhood, I believe—and Brasyer, the second +officer, who had charge of the bullion-room. They +may possibly know something. Anyway, <i>one</i> thing's +plain. There were forty cases at the beginning +of the voyage, and now there are only thirty-eight."</p> + +<p>There was a pause; and then Merrick added, +"By the bye, Hewitt, this is rather your line, isn't +it? You ought to look up these two cases."</p> + +<p>Hewitt laughed. "All right," he said; "I'll begin +this minute if you'll commission me."</p> + +<p>"Well," Merrick replied slowly, "of course I +can't do that without authority from headquarters. +But if you've nothing to do for an hour or so there +is no harm in putting on your considering cap, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +there? Although, of course, there's nothing to go +upon as yet. But you might listen to what Mackrie +and Brasyer have to say. Of course I don't know, +but as it's a £10,000 question probably it might pay +you, and if you <i>do</i> see your way to anything I'd wire +and get you commissioned at once."</p> + +<p>There was a tap at the door and Captain Mackrie +entered. "Mr. Merrick?" he said interrogatively, +looking from one to another.</p> + +<p>"That's myself, sir," answered Merrick.</p> + +<p>"I'm Captain Mackrie, of the <i>Nicobar</i>. You +sent for me, I believe. Something wrong with the +bullion I'm told, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Merrick explained matters fully. "I thought +perhaps you might be able to help us, Captain +Mackrie. Perhaps I have been wrongly informed +as to the number of cases that should have been +there?"</p> + +<p>"No; there were forty right enough. I think +though—perhaps I might be able to give you a +sort of hint."—and Captain Mackrie looked hard at +Hewitt.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Hewitt, Captain Mackrie," Merrick +interposed. "You may speak as freely as you please +before him. In fact, he's sort of working on the +business, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"Well," Mackrie said, "if that's so, speaking between +ourselves, I should advise you to turn your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +attention to Brasyer. He was my second officer, +you know, and had charge of the stuff."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," Hewitt asked, "that Mr. Brasyer +might give us some useful information?"</p> + +<p>Mackrie gave an ugly grin. "Very likely he +might," he said, "if he were fool enough. But I +don't think you'd get much out of him direct. I +meant you might watch him."</p> + +<p>"What, do you suppose he was concerned in any +way with the disappearance of this gold?"</p> + +<p>"I should think—speaking, as I said before, in +confidence and between ourselves—that it's very +likely indeed. I didn't like his manner all through +the voyage."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he was so eternally cracking on about his +responsibility, and pretending to suspect the stokers +and the carpenter, and one person and another, of +trying to get at the bullion cases—that that alone +was almost enough to make one suspicious. He protested +so much, you see. He was so conscientious +and diligent himself, and all the rest of it, and everybody +else was such a desperate thief, and he was so +sure there would be some of that bullion missing +some day that—that—well, I don't know if I express +his manner clearly, but I tell you I didn't like it a +bit. But there was something more than that. He +was eternally smelling about the place, and peeping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +in at the steward's pantry—which adjoins the bullion-room +on one side, you know—and nosing about +in the bunker on the other side. And once I actually +caught him fitting keys to the padlocks—keys +he'd borrowed from the carpenter's stores. And +every time his excuse was that he fancied he heard +somebody else trying to get in to the gold, or something +of that sort; every time I caught him below +on the orlop deck that was his excuse—happened to +have heard something or suspected something or +somebody every time. Whether or not I succeed in +conveying my impressions to you, gentlemen, I can +assure you that I regarded his whole manner and +actions as very suspicious throughout the voyage, +and I made up my mind I wouldn't forget it if by +chance anything <i>did</i> turn out wrong. Well, it has, +and now I've told you what I've observed. It's for +you to see if it will lead you anywhere."</p> + +<p>"Just so," Hewitt answered. "But let me fully +understand, Captain Mackrie. You say that Mr. +Brasyer had charge of the bullion-room, but that he +was trying keys on it from the carpenter's stores. +Where were the legitimate keys then?"</p> + +<p>"In my cabin. They were only handed out +when I knew what they were wanted for. There +was a Chubb's lock between the two padlocks, but a +duplicate wouldn't have been hard for Brasyer to +get. He could easily have taken a wax impression<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +of my key when he used it at the port where we took +the bullion aboard."</p> + +<p>"Well, and suppose he had taken these boxes, +where do you think he would keep them?"</p> + +<p>Mackrie shrugged his shoulders and smiled. +"Impossible to say," he replied. "He might have +hidden 'em somewhere on board, though I don't +think that's likely. He'd have had a deuce of a job +to land them at Plymouth, and would have had to +leave them somewhere while he came on to London. +Bullion is always landed at Plymouth, you know, +and if any were found to be missing, then the ship +would be overhauled at once, every inch of her; so +that he'd have to get his plunder ashore somehow +before the rest of the gold was unloaded—almost +impossible. Of course, if he's done that it's somewhere +below there now, but that isn't likely. He'd +be much more likely to have 'dumped' it—dropped +it overboard at some well-known spot in a foreign +port, where he could go later on and get it. So that +you've a deal of scope for search, you see. Anywhere +under water from here to Yokohama;" and +Captain Mackrie laughed.</p> + +<p>Soon afterward he left, and as he was leaving a +man knocked at the cabin door and looked in to say +that Mr. Brasyer was on board. "You'll be able +to have a go at him now," said the captain. "Good-day."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's the steward of the <i>Nicobar</i> there too, +sir," said the man after the captain had gone, "and +the carpenter."</p> + +<p>"Very well, we'll see Mr. Brasyer first," said +Merrick, and the man vanished. "It seems to have +got about a bit," Merrick went on to Hewitt. "I +only sent for Brasyer, but as these others have +come, perhaps they've got something to tell us."</p> + +<p>Brasyer made his appearance, overflowing with +information. He required little assurance to encourage +him to speak openly before Hewitt, and he said +again all he had so often said before on board the +<i>Nicobar</i>. The bullion-room was a mere tin box, the +whole thing was as easy to get at as anything could +be, he didn't wonder in the least at the loss—he had +prophesied it all along.</p> + +<p>The men whose movements should be carefully +watched, he said, were the captain and the steward. +"Nobody ever heard of a captain and a steward being +so thick together before," he said. "The steward's +pantry was next against the bullion-room, you +know, with nothing but that wretched bit of three-eighths +boiler plate between. You wouldn't often +expect to find the captain down in the steward's +pantry, would you, thick as they might be. Well, +that's where I used to find him, time and again. +And the steward kept boiler-makers' tools there! +That I can swear to. And he's been a boiler-maker,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +so that, likely as not, he could open a joint somewhere +and patch it up again neatly so that it +wouldn't be noticed. He was always messing about +down there in his pantry, and once I distinctly heard +knocking there, and when I went down to see, whom +should I meet? Why, the skipper, coming away from +the place himself, and he bullyragged me for being +there and sent me on deck. But before that he bullyragged +me because I had found out that there +were other keys knocking about the place that fitted +the padlocks on the bullion-room door. Why should +he slang and threaten me for looking after these +things and keeping my eye on the bullion-room, as +was my duty? But that was the very thing that he +didn't like. It was enough for him to see me anxious +about the gold to make him furious. Of course +his character for meanness and greed is known all +through the company's service—he'll do anything to +make a bit."</p> + +<p>"But have you any positive idea as to what has +become of the gold?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Brasyer replied, with a rather knowing +air, "I don't think they've dumped it."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean you think it's still in the vessel—hidden +somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't. I believe the captain and the +steward took it ashore, one case each, when we came +off in the boats."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But wouldn't that be noticed?"</p> + +<p>"It needn't be, on a black night like that. You +see, the parcels are not so big—look at them, a foot +by a foot and a half by six inches or so, roughly. +Easily slipped under a big coat or covered up with +anything. Of course they're a bit heavy—eighty +or ninety pounds apiece altogether—but that's not +much for a strong man to carry—especially in such +a handy parcel, on a black night, with no end of +confusion on. Now you just look here—I'll tell you +something. The skipper went ashore last in a boat +that was sent out by the coasting steamer that ran +into us. That ship's put into dock for repairs and +her crew are mostly having an easy time ashore. +Now I haven't been asleep this last day or two, and +I had a sort of notion there might be some game of +this sort on, because when I left the ship that night +I thought we might save a little at least of the stuff, +but the skipper wouldn't let me go near the bullion-room, +and that seemed odd. So I got hold of one +of the boat's crew that fetched the skipper ashore, +and questioned him quietly—pumped him, you know—and +he assures me that the skipper <i>did</i> have a +rather small, heavy sort of parcel with him. What +do you think of that? Of course, in the circumstances, +the man couldn't remember any very distinct +particulars, but he thought it was a sort of square +wooden case about the size I've mentioned. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +there's something more." Brasyer lifted his fore-finger +and then brought it down on the table before +him—"something more. I've made inquiries at the +railway station and I find that two heavy parcels +were sent off yesterday to London—deal boxes +wrapped in brown paper, of just about the right +size. And the paper got torn before the things were +sent off, and the clerk could see that the boxes inside +were fastened with hoop-iron—like those!" and +the second officer pointed triumphantly to the boxes +piled at one side of the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Well done!" said Hewitt. "You're quite a +smart detective. Did you find out who brought the +parcels, and who they were addressed to?"</p> + +<p>"No, I couldn't get quite as far as that. Of +course the clerk didn't know the names of the senders, +and not knowing me, wouldn't tell me exactly where +the parcels were going. But I got quite chummy +with him after a bit, and I'm going to meet him presently—he +has the afternoon off, and we're going for +a stroll. I'll find something more, I'll bet you!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," replied Hewitt, "find all you can—it +may be very important. If you get any valuable +information you'll let us know at once, of course. +Anything else, now?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so; but I think what I've told +you is pretty well enough for the present, eh? I'll +let you know some more soon."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>Brasyer went, and Norton, the steward of the old +ship, was brought into the cabin. He was a sharp-eyed, +rather cadaverous-looking man, and he spoke +with sepulchral hollowness. He had heard, he said, +that there was something wrong with the chests of +bullion, and came on board to give any information +he could. It wasn't much, he went on to say, but +the smallest thing might help. If he might speak +strictly confidentially he would suggest that observation +be kept on Wickens, the carpenter. He (Norton) +didn't want to be uncharitable, but his pantry happened +to be next the bullion-room, and he had heard +Wickens at work for a very long time just below—on +the under side of the floor of the bullion-room, it +seemed to him, although, of course, he <i>might</i> have +been mistaken. Still, it was very odd that the carpenter +always seemed to have a job just at that +spot. More, it had been said—and he (Norton) believed +it to be true—that Wickens, the carpenter, +had in his possession, and kept among his stores, +keys that fitted the padlocks on the bullion-room +door. That, it seemed to him, was a very suspicious +circumstance. He didn't know anything more definite, +but offered his ideas for what they were worth, +and if his suspicions proved unfounded nobody +would be more pleased than himself. But—but—and +the steward shook his head doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Norton," said Merrick, with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +twinkle in his eye; "we won't forget what you say. +Of course, if the stuff is found in consequence of +any of your information, you won't lose by it."</p> + +<p>The steward said he hoped not, and he wouldn't +fail to keep his eye on the carpenter. He had +noticed Wickens was in the tug, and he trusted that +if they were going to question him they would do it +cautiously, so as not to put him on his guard. Merrick +promised they would.</p> + +<p>"By the bye, Mr. Norton," asked Hewitt, "supposing +your suspicions to be justified, what do you +suppose the carpenter would do with the bullion?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," replied Norton, "I don't think he'd +keep it on the ship. He'd probably dump it somewhere."</p> + +<p>The steward left, and Merrick lay back in his +chair and guffawed aloud. "This grows farcical," +he said, "simply farcical. What a happy family +they must have been aboard the <i>Nicobar</i>! And now +here's the captain watching the second officer, and +the second officer watching the captain and the +steward, and the steward watching the carpenter! +It's immense. And now we're going to see the carpenter. +Wonder whom <i>he</i> suspects?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt said nothing, but his eyes twinkled with +intense merriment, and presently the carpenter was +brought into the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, gentlemen," said the car<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>penter +in a soft and deferential voice, looking from +one to the other. "Might I 'ave the honour of addressin' +the salvage gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Merrick answered, motioning him +to a seat. "This is the salvage shop, Mr. Wickens. +What can we do for you?"</p> + +<p>The carpenter coughed gently behind his hand. +"I took the liberty of comin', gentlemen, consekins +o' 'earin' as there was some bullion missin'. P'raps +I'm wrong."</p> + +<p>"Not at all. We haven't found as much as we +expected, and I suppose by this time nearly everybody +knows it. There are two cases wanting. You +can't tell us where they are, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, as to that—no. I fear I can't exactly +go as far as that. But if I am able to give vallable +information as may lead to recovery of same, I presoom +I may without offence look for some reasonable +small recognition of my services?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," answered Merrick, "that'll be all +right, I promise you. The company will do the +handsome thing, of course, and no doubt so will the +underwriters."</p> + +<p>"Presoomin' I may take that as a promise—among +gentlemen"—this with an emphasis—"I'm +willing to tell something."</p> + +<p>"It's a promise, at any rate as far as the company's +concerned," returned Merrick. "I'll see it's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +made worth your while—of course, providing it leads +to anything."</p> + +<p>"Purvidin' that, sir, o' course. Well, gentlemen, +my story ain't a long one. All I've to say was what +I 'eard on board, just before she went down. The +passengers was off, and the crew was gettin' into the +other boats when the skipper turns to the steward +an' speaks to him quiet-like, not observin', gentlemen, +as I was agin 'is elbow, so for to say. ''Ere, +Norton,' 'e sez, or words to that effeck, 'why +shouldn't we try gettin' them things ashore with us—you +know, the cases—eh? I've a notion we're +pretty close inshore,' 'e sez, 'and there's nothink of +a sea now. You take one, anyway, and I'll try the +other,' 'e says, 'but don't make a flourish.' Then he +sez, louder, 'cos o' the steward goin' off, 'They're +the likeliest stuff, and at worst we can but drop 'em. +But look sharp,' 'e says. So then I gets into the +nearest boat, and that's all I 'eard."</p> + +<p>"That was all?" asked Hewitt, watching the +man's face sharply.</p> + +<p>"All?" the carpenter answered with some surprise. +"Yes, that was all; but I think it's pretty +well enough, don't you? It's plain enough what +was meant—him and the steward was to take two +cases, one apiece, on the quiet, and they was the likeliest +stuff aboard, as he said himself. And now there's +two cases o' bullion missin'. Ain't that enough?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>The carpenter was not satisfied till an exact +note had been made of the captain's words. Then +after Merrick's promise on behalf of the company +had been renewed, Wickens took himself off.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Merrick, grinning across the table +at Hewitt, "this is a queer go, isn't it? What that +man says makes the skipper's case look pretty fishy, +doesn't it? What he says, and what Brasyer says, +taken together, makes a pretty strong case—I +should say makes the thing a certainty. But what +a business! It's likely to be a bit serious for some +one, but it's a rare joke in a way. Wonder if Brasyer +will find out anything more? Pity the skipper +and steward didn't agree as to whom they should +pretend to suspect. <i>That's</i> a mistake on their +part."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Hewitt replied. "<i>If</i> they are +conspiring, and know what they're about, they +will avoid seeming to be both in a tale. The +bullion is in bars, I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, five bars in each case; weight, I believe, +sixteen pounds to a bar."</p> + +<p>"Let me see," Hewitt went on, as he looked at +his watch; "it is now nearly two o'clock. I must +think over these things if I am to do anything in +the case. In the meantime, if it could be managed, +I should like enormously to have a turn under +water in a diving-dress. I have always had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +curiosity to see under the sea. Could it be managed +now?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Merrick responded, "there's not much +fun in it, I can assure you; and it's none the +pleasanter in this weather. You'd better have a +try later in the year if you really want to—unless +you think you can learn anything about this business +by smelling about on the <i>Nicobar</i> down +below?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.</p> + +<p>"I <i>might</i> spot something," he said; "one never +knows. And if I do anything in a case I always +make it a rule to see and hear everything that can +possibly be seen or heard, important or not. Clues +lie where least expected. But beyond that, probably +I may never have another chance of a little +experience in a diving-dress. So if it can be managed +I'd be glad."</p> + +<p>"Very well, you shall go, if you say so. And +since it's your first venture, I'll come down with you +myself. The men are all ashore, I think, or most of +them. Come along."</p> + +<p>Hewitt was put in woollens and then in india-rubbers. +A leaden-soled boot of twenty pounds' +weight was strapped on each foot, and weights were +hung on his back and chest.</p> + +<p>"That's the dress that Gullen usually has," +Merrick remarked. "He's a very smart fellow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +we usually send him first to make measurements +and so on. An excellent man, but a bit too fond +of the diver's lotion."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" asked Hewitt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you shall try some if you like, afterwards. +It's a bit too heavy for me; rum and gin mixed, I +think."</p> + +<p>A red nightcap was placed on Martin Hewitt's +head, and after that a copper helmet, secured by +a short turn in the segmental screw joint at the +neck. In the end he felt a vast difficulty in moving +at all. Merrick had been meantime invested +with a similar rig-out, and then each was provided +with a communication cord and an incandescent +electric lamp. Finally, the front window was +screwed on each helmet, and all was ready.</p> + +<p>Merrick went first over the ladder at the side, +and Hewitt with much difficulty followed. As the +water closed over his head, his sensations altered +considerably. There was less weight to carry; his +arms in particular felt light, though slow in motion. +Down, down they went slowly, and all round about +it was fairly light, but once on the sunken vessel +and among the lower decks, the electric lamps were +necessary enough. Once or twice Merrick spoke, +laying his helmet against Hewitt's for the purpose, +and instructing him to keep his air-pipe, life-line, +and lamp connection from fouling something at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +every step. Here and there shadowy swimming +shapes came out of the gloom, attracted by their +lamps, to dart into obscurity again with a twist of +the tail. The fishes were exploring the <i>Nicobar</i>. +The hatchway of the lower deck was open, and +down this they passed to the orlop deck. A little +way along this they came to a door standing open, +with a broken lock hanging to it. It was the door +of the bullion-room, which had been forced by the +divers in the morning.</p> + +<p>Merrick indicated by signs how the cases had +been found piled on the floor. One of the sides of +the room of thin steel was torn and thrust in the +length of its whole upper half, and when they backed +out of the room and passed the open door they stood +in the great breach made by the bow of the strange +coasting vessel. Steel, iron, wood, and everything +stood in rents and splinters, and through the great +gap they looked out into the immeasurable ocean. +Hewitt put up his hand and felt the edge of the +bullion-room partition where it had been torn. It +was just such a tear as might have been made in +cardboard.</p> + +<p>They regained the upper deck, and Hewitt, placing +his helmet against his companion's, told him that +he meant to have a short walk on the ocean bed. +He took to the ladder again, where it lay over the +side, and Merrick followed him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p>The bottom was of that tough, slimy sort of clay-rock +that is found in many places about our coasts, +and was dotted here and there with lumps of harder +rock and clumps of curious weed. The two divers +turned at the bottom of the ladder, walked a few +steps, and looked up at the great hole in the <i>Nicobar's</i> +side. Seen from here it was a fearful chasm, +laying open hold, orlop, and lower deck.</p> + +<p>Hewitt turned away, and began walking about. +Once or twice he stood and looked thoughtfully at +the ground he stood on, which was fairly flat. He +turned over with his foot a whitish, clean-looking +stone about as large as a loaf. Then he wandered +on slowly, once or twice stopping to examine the +rock beneath him, and presently stooped to look at +another stone nearly as large as the other, weedy on +one side only, standing on the edge of a cavity in the +claystone. He pushed the stone into the hole, which +it filled, and then he stood up.</p> + +<p>Merrick put his helmet against Hewitt's, and +shouted—</p> + +<p>"Satisfied now? Seen enough of the bottom?"</p> + +<p>"In a moment!" Hewitt shouted back; and he +straightway began striding out in the direction of +the ship. Arrived at the bows, he turned back to +the point he started from, striding off again from +there to the white stone he had kicked over, and from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +there to the vessel's side again. Merrick watched +him in intense amazement, and hurried, as well as he +might, after the light of Hewitt's lamp. Arrived for +the second time at the bows of the ship, Hewitt +turned and made his way along the side to the ladder, +and forthwith ascended, followed by Merrick. +There was no halt at the deck this time, and the two +made there way up and up into the lighter water +above, and so to the world of air.</p> + +<p>On the tug, as the men were unscrewing them +from there waterproof prisons, Merrick asked +Hewitt—</p> + +<p>"Will you try the 'lotion' now?"</p> + +<p>"No," Hewitt replied, "I won't go quite so far +as that. But I <i>will</i> have a little whisky, if you've +any in the cabin. And give me a pencil and a piece +of paper."</p> + +<p>These things were brought, and on the paper +Martin Hewitt immediately wrote a few figures and +kept it in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I might easily forget those figures," he observed.</p> + +<p>Merrick wondered, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>Once more comfortably in the cabin, and clad in +his usual garments, Hewitt asked if Merrick could +produce a chart of the parts thereabout.</p> + +<p>"Here you are," was the reply, "coast and all. +Big enough, isn't it? I've already marked the posi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>tion +of the wreck on it in pencil. She lies pointing +north by east as nearly exact as anything."</p> + +<p>"As you've begun it," said Hewitt, "I shall take +the liberty of making a few more pencil marks on +this." And with that he spread out the crumpled +note of figures, and began much ciphering and +measuring. Presently he marked certain points on +a spare piece of paper, and drew through them two +lines forming an angle. This angle he transferred +to the chart, and, placing a ruler over one leg of +the angle, lengthened it out till it met the coast-line.</p> + +<p>"There we are," he said musingly. "And the +nearest village to that is Lostella—indeed, the only +coast village in that neighbourhood." He rose. +"Bring me the sharpest-eyed person on board," he +said; "that is, if he were here all day yesterday."</p> + +<p>"But what's up? What's all this mathematical +business over? Going to find that bullion by rule +of three?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt laughed. "Yes, perhaps," he said, "but +where's your sharp look-out? I want somebody who +can tell me everything that was visible from the deck +of this tug all day yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Well, really I believe the very sharpest chap is +the boy. He's most annoyingly observant sometimes. +I'll send for him."</p> + +<p>He came—a bright, snub-nosed, impudent-looking +young ruffian.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"See here, my boy," said Merrick, "polish up +your wits and tell this gentleman what he asks."</p> + +<p>"Yesterday," said Hewitt, "no doubt you saw +various pieces of wreckage floating about?"</p> + +<p>"Yessir."</p> + +<p>"What were they?"</p> + +<p>"Hatch-gratings mostly—nothin' much else. +There's some knockin' about now."</p> + +<p>"I saw them. Now, remember. Did you see a +hatch-grating floating yesterday that was different +from the others? A painted one, for instance—those +out there now are not painted, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yessir, I see a little white 'un painted, bobbin' +about away beyond the foremast of the <i>Nicobar</i>."</p> + +<p>"You're sure of that?"</p> + +<p>"Certain sure, sir—it was the only painted thing +floatin'. And to-day it's washed away somewheres."</p> + +<p>"So I noticed. You're a smart lad. Here's a +shilling for you—keep your eyes open and perhaps +you'll find a good many more shillings before you're +an old man. That's all."</p> + +<p>The boy disappeared, and Hewitt turned to Merrick +and said, "I think you may as well send that +wire you spoke of. If I get the commission I think +I may recover that bullion. It may take some little +time, or, on the other hand, it may not. If you'll +write the telegram at once, I'll go in the same boat +as the messenger. I'm going to take a walk down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +to Lostella now—it's only two or three miles along +the coast, but it will soon be getting dark."</p> + +<p>"But what sort of a clue have you got? I +didn't——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind," replied Hewitt, with a chuckle. +"Officially, you know, I've no right to a clue just +yet—I'm not commissioned. When I am I'll tell +you everything."</p> + +<p>Hewitt was scarcely ashore when he was seized +by the excited Brasyer. "Here you are," he said. +"I was coming aboard the tug again. I've got +more news. You remember I said I was going out +with that railway clerk this afternoon, and meant +pumping him? Well, I've done it and rushed away—don't +know what he'll think's up. As we were +going along we saw Norton, the steward, on the +other side of the way, and the clerk recognised him +as one of the men who brought the cases to be sent +off; the other was the skipper, I've no doubt, from +his description. I played him artfully, you know, +and then he let out that both the cases were addressed +to Mackrie at his address in London! He +looked up the entry, he said, after I left when I +first questioned him, feeling curious. That's about +enough, I think, eh? I'm off to London now—I +believe Mackrie's going to-night. I'll have him! +Keep it dark!" And the zealous second officer +dashed off without waiting for a reply. Hewitt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +looked after him with an amused smile, and turned +off towards Lostella.</p> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<p>It was about eleven the next morning when +Merrick received the following note, brought by a +boatman:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Merrick</span>,—Am I commissioned? If not, +don't trouble, but if I am, be just outside Lostella, +at the turning before you come to the Smack Inn, at +two o'clock. Bring with you a light cart, a policeman—or +two perhaps will be better—and a man +with a spade. There will probably be a little cabbage-digging. +Are you fond of the sport?—Yours, +<span class="smcap">Martin Hewitt</span>.</p> + +<p>"P.S.—<i>Keep all your men aboard</i>; bring the spade +artist from the town."</p></div> + +<p>Merrick was off in a boat at once. His principals +had replied to his telegram after Hewitt's departure +the day before, giving him a free hand to do +whatever seemed best. With some little difficulty +he got the policemen, and with none at all he got a +light cart and a jobbing man with a spade. Together +they drove off to the meeting-place.</p> + +<p>It was before the time, but Martin Hewitt was +there, waiting. "You're quick," he said, "but the +sooner the better. I gave you the earliest appoint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>ment +I thought you could keep, considering what +you had to do."</p> + +<p>"Have you got the stuff, then?" Merrick asked +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly yet. But I've got this," and +Hewitt held up the point of his walking-stick. Protruding +half an inch or so from it was the sharp end +of a small gimlet, and in the groove thereof was a +little white wood, such as commonly remains after a +gimlet has been used.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's that?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Let us move along—I'll walk. I +think we're about at the end of the job—it's been a +fairly lucky one, and quite simple. But I'll explain +after."</p> + +<p>Just beyond the Smack Inn, Hewitt halted the +cart, and all got down. They looped the horse's +reins round a hedge-stake and proceeded the small +remaining distance on foot, with the policemen behind, +to avoid a premature scare. They turned up +a lane behind a few small and rather dirty cottages +facing the sea, each with its patch of kitchen garden +behind. Hewitt led the way to the second garden, +pushed open the small wicket gate and walked boldly +in, followed by the others.</p> + +<p>Cabbages covered most of the patch, and seemed +pretty healthy in their situation, with the exception +of half a dozen—singularly enough, all together in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +a group. These were drooping, yellow, and wilted, +and towards these Hewitt straightway walked. +"Dig up those wilted cabbages," he said to the +jobbing man. "They're really useless now. You'll +probably find something else six inches down or +so."</p> + +<p>The man struck his spade into the soft earth, +wherein it stopped suddenly with a thud. But at +this moment a gaunt, slatternly woman, with a black +eye, a handkerchief over her head, and her skirt +pinned up in front, observing the invasion from the +back door of the cottage, rushed out like a maniac +and attacked the party valiantly with a broom. She +upset the jobbing man over his spade, knocked off +one policeman's helmet, lunged into the other's face +with her broom, and was making her second attempt +to hit Hewitt (who had dodged), when Merrick +caught her firmly by the elbows from behind, +pressed them together, and held her. She screamed, +and people came from other cottages and looked on. +"Peter! Peter!" the woman screamed, "come 'ee, +come'ee here! Davey! They're come!"</p> + +<p>A grimy child came to the cottage door, and seeing +the woman thus held, and strangers in the garden, +set up a piteous howl. Meantime the digger +had uncovered two wooden boxes, each eighteen +inches long or so, bound with hoop-iron and sealed. +One had been torn partly open at the top, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +broken wood roughly replaced. When this was +lifted, bars of yellow metal were visible within.</p> + +<p>The woman still screamed vehemently, and struggled. +The grimy child retreated, and then there appeared +at the door, staggering hazily and rubbing +his eyes, a shaggy, unkempt man, in shirt and trousers. +He looked stupidly at the scene before him, +and his jaw dropped.</p> + +<p>"Take that man," cried Hewitt. "He's one!" +And the policeman promptly took him, so that he +had handcuffs on his wrists before he had collected +his faculties sufficiently to begin swearing.</p> + +<p>Hewitt and the other policeman entered the cottage. +In the lower two rooms there was nobody. +They climbed the few narrow stairs, and in the +front room above they found another man, younger, +and fast asleep. "He's the other," said Hewitt. +"Take <i>him</i>." And this one was handcuffed before +he woke.</p> + +<p>Then the recovered gold was put into the cart, +and with the help of the village constable, who +brought his own handcuffs for the benefit and adornment +of the lady with the broom, such a procession +marched out of Lostella as had never been dreamed +of by the oldest inhabitant in his worst nightmare, +nor recorded in the whole history of Cornwall.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Hewitt, turning to Merrick, "we +must have that fellow of yours—what's his name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>—Gullen, +isn't it? The one that went down to measure +the hole in the ship. You've kept him aboard, +of course?"</p> + +<p>"What, Gullen?" exclaimed Merrick. "Gullen? +Well, as a matter of fact he went ashore last +night and hasn't come back. But you don't mean to +say——"</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i>," replied Hewitt. "And now you've lost +him."</p> + + +<h4>IV.</h4> + +<p>"But tell me all about it now we've a little time +to ourselves," asked Merrick an hour or two later, +as they sat and smoked in the after-cabin of the +salvage tug. "We've got the stuff, thanks to you, +but I don't in the least see how <i>they</i> got it, nor how +you found it out."</p> + +<p>"Well, there didn't seem to be a great deal either +way in the tales told by the men from the <i>Nicobar</i>. +They cancelled one another out, so to speak, though +it seemed likely that there might be something in +them in one or two respects. Brasyer, I could see, +tried to prove too much. If the captain and the +steward were conspiring to rob the bullion-room, +why should the steward trouble to cut through the +boiler-plate walls when the captain kept the keys in +his cabin? And if the captain had been stealing the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +bullion, why should he stop at two cases when he +had all the voyage to operate in and forty cases to +help himself to? Of course the evidence of the +carpenter gave some colour to the theory, but I +think I can imagine a very reasonable explanation +of that.</p> + +<p>"You told me, of course, that you were down +with the men yourself when they opened the bullion-room +door and got out the cases, so that there could +be no suspicion of <i>them</i>. But at the same time you +told me that the breach in the <i>Nicobar's</i> side had +laid open the bullion-room partition, and that you +might more easily have got the cases out that way. +You told me, of course, that the cases couldn't have +<i>fallen</i> out that way because of the list of the vessel, +the position of the rent in the boiler-plate, and so on. +But I reflected that the day before a diver had been +down alone—in fact, that his business had been with +the very hole that extended partly to the bullion-room: +he had to measure it. That diver might +easily have got at the cases through the breach. +But then, as you told me, a diver can't bring things +up from below unobserved. This diver would know +this, and might therefore hide the booty below. So +that I made up my mind to have a look under water +before I jumped to any conclusion.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think it likely that he had hidden the +cases, mind you. Because he would have had to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +dive again to get them, and would have been just +as awkwardly placed in fetching them to the light +of day then as ever. Besides, he couldn't come +diving here again in the company's dress without +some explanation. So what more likely than that +he would make some ingenious arrangement with an +accomplice, whereby he might make the gold in some +way accessible to him?</p> + +<p>"We went under water. I kept my eyes open, +and observed, among other things, that the vessel +was one of those well-kept 'swell' ones on which +all the hatch gratings and so on are in plain oak +or teak, kept holystoned. This (with the other +things) I put by in my mind in case it should be +useful. When we went over the side and looked +at the great gap, I saw that it would have been +quite easy to get at the broken bullion-room partition +from outside."</p> + +<p>"Yes," remarked Merrick, "it would be no +trouble at all. The ladder goes down just by the +side of the breach, and any one descending by that +might just step off at one side on to the jagged +plating at the level of the after orlop, and reach +over into the bullion safe."</p> + +<p>"Just so. Well, next I turned my attention to +the sea-bed, which I was extremely pleased to see +was of soft, slimy claystone. I walked about a +little, getting farther and farther away from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +vessel as I went, till I came across that clean stone +which I turned over with my foot. Do you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, that was noticeable. It was the only +clean, bare stone to be seen. Every other was covered +with a green growth, and to most clumps of +weed clung. The obvious explanation of this was +that the stone was a new-comer—lately brought from +dry land—from the shingle on the sea-shore, probably, +since it was washed so clean. Such a stone +could not have come a mile out to sea by itself. +Somebody had brought it in a boat and thrown it +over, and whoever did it didn't take all that trouble +for nothing. Then its shape told a tale; it was +something of the form, rather exaggerated, of a loaf—the +sort that is called a 'cottage'—the most convenient +possible shape for attaching to a line and +lowering. But the line had gone, so somebody must +have been down there to detach it. Also it wasn't +unreasonable to suppose that there might have been +a hook on the end of that line. This, then, was a +theory. Your man had gone down alone to take his +measurement, had stepped into the broken side, as +you have explained he could, reached into the bullion-room, +and lifted the two cases. Probably he +unfastened the cord, and brought them out one at +a time for convenience in carrying. Then he car<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>ried +the cases, one at a time, as I have said, over to +that white stone which lay there sunk with the hook +and line attached by previous arrangement with +some confederate. He detached the rope from the +stone—it was probably fixed by an attached piece +of cord, tightened round the stone with what you +call a timber-hitch, easily loosened—replaced the +cord round the two cases, passed the hook under the +cord, and left it to be pulled up from above. But +then it could not have been pulled up there in broad +daylight, under your very noses. The confederates +would wait till night. That meant that the other +end of the rope was attached to some floating object, +so that it might be readily recovered. The +whole arrangement was set one night to be carried +away the next."</p> + +<p>"But why didn't Gullen take more than two +cases?"</p> + +<p>"He couldn't afford to waste the time, in the +first place. Each case removed meant another journey +to and from the vessel, and you were waiting +above for his measurements. Then he was probably +doubtful as to weight. Too much at once wouldn't +easily be drawn up, and might upset a small boat.</p> + +<p>"Well, so much for the white stone. But there +was more; close by the stone I noticed (although +I think you didn't) a mark in the claystone. It was +a triangular depression or pit, sharp at the bottom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>—just +the hole that would be made by the sharp impact +of the square corner of a heavy box, if shod +with iron, as the bullion cases are. This was one +important thing. It seemed to indicate that the +boxes had not been lifted directly up from the sea-bed, +but had been dragged sideways—at all events +at first—so that a sharp corner had turned over and +dug into the claystone! I walked a little farther +and found more indications—slight scratches, small +stones displaced, and so on, that convinced me of +this, and also pointed out the direction in which the +cases had been dragged. I followed the direction, +and presently arrived at another stone, rather +smaller than the clean one. The cases had evidently +caught against this, and it had been displaced +by their momentum, and perhaps by a possible +wrench from above. The green growth covered +the part which had been exposed to the water, +and the rest of the stone fitted the hole beside it, +from which it had been pulled. Clearly these +things were done recently, or the sea would have +wiped out all the traces in the soft claystone. The +rest of what I did under water of course you understood."</p> + +<p>"I suppose so: you took the bearings of the +two stones in relation to the ship by pacing the +distances."</p> + +<p>"That is so. I kept the figures in my head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +till I could make a note of them, as you saw, on +paper. The rest was mere calculation. What I +judged had happened was this. Gullen had arranged +with somebody, identity unknown, but +certainly somebody with a boat at his disposal, +to lay the line, and take it up the following night. +Now anything larger than a rowing boat could not +have got up quite so close to you in the night +(although your tug was at the other end of the +wreck) without a risk of being seen. <i>But</i> no rowing +boat could have <i>dragged</i> those cases forcibly +along the bottom; they would act as an anchor to +it. Therefore this was what had happened. The +thieves had come in a large boat—a fishing smack, +lugger, or something of that sort—with a small +boat in tow. The sailing boat had lain to at a +convenient distance, <i>in the direction in which it was +afterwards to go</i>, so as to save time if observed, and +a man had put off quietly in the small boat to +pick up the float, whatever it was. There must +have been a lot of slack line on this for the purpose, +as also for the purpose of allowing the float +to drift about fairly freely, and not attract attention +by remaining in one place. The man pulled off +to the sailing boat, and took the float and line +aboard. Then the sailing boat swung off in the +direction of home, and the line was hauled in with +the plunder at the end of it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"One would think you had seen it all—or done +it," Merrick remarked, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else could have happened, you see. +That chain of events is the only one that will +explain the circumstances. A rapid grasp of the +whole circumstances and a perfect appreciation of +each is more than half the battle in such work as +this. Well, you know I got the exact bearings of +the wreck on the chart, worked out from that the +lay of the two stones with the scratch marks between, +and then it was obvious that a straight line +drawn through these and carried ahead would indicate, +approximately, at any rate, the direction the +thieves' vessel had taken. The line fell on the +coast close by the village of Lostella—indeed that +was the only village for some few miles either way. +The indication was not certain, but it was likely, +and the only one available, therefore it must be +followed up."</p> + +<p>"And what about the painted hatch? How did +you guess that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I saw there were hatch-gratings belonging +to the <i>Nicobar</i> floating about, and it seemed probable +that the thieves would use for a float something +similar to the other wreckage in the vicinity, +so as not to attract attention. Nothing would be +more likely than a hatch-grating. But then, in +small vessels, such as fishing-luggers and so on,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +fittings are almost always painted—they can't +afford to be such holystoning swells as those on +the <i>Nicobar</i>. So I judged the grating might be +painted, and this would possibly have been noticed +by some sharp person. I made the shot, and hit. +The boy remembered the white grating, which had +gone—'washed away,' as he thought. That was +useful to me, as you shall see.</p> + +<p>"I made off toward Lostella. The tide was low +and it was getting dusk when I arrived. A number +of boats and smacks were lying anchored on the +beach, but there were few people to be seen. I +began looking out for smacks with white-painted +fittings in them. There are not so many of these +among fishing vessels—brown or red is more likely, +or sheer colourless dirt over paint unrecognisable. +There were only two that I saw last night. The +first <i>might</i> have been the one I wanted, but there +was nothing to show it. The second <i>was</i> the one. +She was half-decked and had a small white-painted +hatch. I shifted the hatch and found a long line, +attached to the grating at one end and carrying a +hook at the other! They had neglected to unfasten +their apparatus—perhaps had an idea that there +might be a chance of using it again in a few days. +I went to the transom and read the inscription, +'<i>Rebecca</i>. Peter and David Garthew, Lostella.' +Then my business was to find the Garthews.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wandered about the village for some little +time, and presently got hold of a boy. I made a +simple excuse for asking about the Garthews—wanted +to go for a sail to-morrow. The boy, with +many grins, confided to me that both of the Garthews +were 'on the booze.' I should find them at the +Smack Inn, where they had been all day, drunk as fiddlers. +This seemed a likely sort of thing after the +haul they had made. I went to the Smack Inn, determined +to claim old friendship with the Garthews, +although I didn't know Peter from David. There +they were—one sleepy drunk, and the other loving +and crying drunk. I got as friendly as possible +with them under the circumstances, and at closing +time stood another gallon of beer and carried it +home for them, while they carried each other. I +took care to have a good look round in the cottage. +I even helped Peter's 'old woman'—the +lady with the broom—to carry them up to bed. +But nowhere could I see anything that looked like +a bullion-case or a hiding-place for one. So I came +away, determined to renew my acquaintance in the +morning, and to carry it on as long as might be +necessary; also to look at the garden in the daylight +for signs of burying. With that view I +fixed that little gimlet in my walking-stick, as you +saw.</p> + +<p>"This morning I was at Lostella before ten, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +took a look at the Garthews' cabbages. It seemed +odd that half a dozen, all in a clump together, +looked withered and limp, as though they had been +dug up hastily, the roots broken, perhaps, and then +replanted. And altogether these particular cabbages +had a dissipated, leaning-different-ways look, +as though <i>they</i> had been on the loose with the +Garthews. So, seeing a grubby child near the back +door of the cottage, I went towards him, walking +rather unsteadily, so as, if I were observed, to +favour the delusion that I was not yet quite got +over last night's diversions. 'Hullo, my b-boy,' I +said, 'hullo, li'l b-boy, look here,' and I plunged my +hand into my trousers' pocket and brought it out +full of small change. Then, making a great business +of selecting him a penny, I managed to spill it all +over the dissipated cabbages. It was easy then, in +stooping to pick up the change, to lean heavily on +my stick and drive it through the loose earth. As I +had expected, there was a box below. So I gouged +away with my walking-stick while I collected my +coppers, and finally swaggered off, after a few civil +words with the 'old woman,' carrying with me evident +proof that it was white wood recently buried +there. The rest you saw for yourself. I think you +and I may congratulate each other on having dodged +that broom. It hit all the others."</p> + +<p>"What I'm wild about," said Merrick, "is having<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +let that scoundrel Gullen get off. He's an artful +chap, without a doubt. He saw us go over the side, +you know, and after you had gone he came into the +cabin for some instructions. Your pencil notes and +the chart were on the table, and no doubt he put +two and two together (which was more than I could, +not knowing what had happened), and concluded to +make himself safe for a bit. He had no leave that +night—he just pulled away on the quiet. Why didn't +you give me the tip to keep him?"</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't have done. In the first place, +there was no legal evidence to warrant his arrest, +and ordering him to keep aboard would have aroused +his suspicions. I didn't know at the time how many +days, or weeks, it would take me to find the bullion, +if I ever found it, and in that time Gullen might +have communicated in some way with his accomplices, +and so spoilt the whole thing. Yes, certainly +he seems to have been fairly smart in his way. He +knew he would probably be sent down first, as usual, +alone to make measurements, and conceived his plan +and made his arrangements forthwith."</p> + +<p>"But now what I want to know is what about +all those <i>Nicobar</i> people watching and suspecting +one another? More especially what about the cases +the captain and the steward are said to have fetched +ashore?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt laughed. "Well," he said, "as to that,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +the presence of the bullion seems to have bred all +sorts of mutual suspicion on board the ship. Brasyer +was over-fussy, and his continual chatter started it +probably, so that it spread like an infection. As to +the captain and the steward, of course I don't know +anything but that their rescued cases were not bullion +cases. Probably they were doing a little private +trading—it's generally the case when captain and +steward seem unduly friendly for their relative positions—and +perhaps the cases contained something +specially valuable: vases or bronzes from Japan, +for instance; possibly the most valuable things of +the size they had aboard. Then, if they had insured +their things, Captain Mackrie (who has the reputation +of a sharp and not very scrupulous man) might +possibly think it rather a stroke of business to get +the goods and the insurance money too, which +would lead him to keep his parcels as quiet as possible. +But that's as it may be."</p> + +<p>The case was much as Hewitt had surmised. +The zealous Brasyer, posting to London in hot haste +after Mackrie, spent some days in watching him. +At last the captain and the steward with their two +boxes took a cab and went to Bond Street, with +Brasyer in another cab behind them. The two +entered a shop, the window of which was set out +with rare curiosities and much old silver and gold. +Brasyer could restrain himself no longer. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +grabbed a passing policeman, and rushed with him +into the shop. There they found the captain and +the steward with two small packing cases opened +before them, trying to sell—a couple of very ancient-looking +Japanese bronze figures, of that curious old +workmanship and varied colour of metal that in +genuine examples mean nowadays high money +value.</p> + +<p>Brasyer vanished: there was too much chaff for +him to live through in the British mercantile marine +after this adventure. The fact was, the steward had +come across the bargain, but had not sufficient spare +cash to buy, so he called in the aid of the captain, +and they speculated in the bronzes as partners. +There was much anxious inspection of the prizes on +the way home, and much discussion as to the proper +price to ask. Finally, it was said, they got three +hundred pounds for the pair.</p> + +<p>Now and again Hewitt meets Merrick still. +Sometimes Merrick says, "Now, I wonder after all +whether or not some of those <i>Nicobar</i> men who were +continually dodging suspiciously about that bullion-room +<i>did</i> mean having a dash at the gold if there +were a chance?" And Hewitt replies, "I wonder."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_HOLFORD_WILL_CASE" id="THE_HOLFORD_WILL_CASE"></a>THE HOLFORD WILL CASE.</h2> + + +<p>At one time, in common, perhaps, with most +people, I took a sort of languid, amateur interest +in questions of psychology, and was impelled there-by +to plunge into the pages of the many curious and +rather abstruse books which attempt to deal with +phenomena of mind, soul and sense. Three things +of the real nature of which, I am convinced, no man +will ever learn more than we know at present—which +is nothing.</p> + +<p>From these I strayed into the many volumes +of <i>Transactions</i> of the Psychical Research Society, +with an occasional by-excursion into mental telepathy +and theosophy; the last, a thing whereof my +Philistine intelligence obstinately refused to make +head or tail.</p> + +<p>It was while these things were occupying part +of my attention that I chanced to ask Hewitt +whether, in the course of his divers odd and out-of-the-way +experiences, he had met with any such +weird adventures as were detailed in such profusion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +in the books of "authenticated" spooks, doppelgangers, +poltergeists, clairvoyance, and so forth.</p> + +<p>"Well," Hewitt answered, with reflection, "I +haven't been such a wallower in the uncanny as +some of the worthy people who talk at large in +those books of yours, and, as a matter of fact, my +little adventures, curious as some of them may +seem, have been on the whole of the most solid +and matter-of-fact description. One or two things +have happened that perhaps your 'psychical' +people might be interested in, but they've mostly +been found to be capable of a disappointingly +simple explanation. One case of some genuine +psychological interest, however, I have had; although +there's nothing even in that which isn't a +matter of well-known scientific possibility." And +he proceeded to tell me the story that I have set +down here, as well as I can, from recollection.</p> + +<p>I think I have already said, in another place, +that Hewitt's professional start as a private investigator +dated from his connection with the famous +will case of Bartley <i>v.</i> Bartley and others, in which +his then principals, Messrs. Crellan, Hunt & Crellan, +chiefly through his exertions established their extremely +high reputation as solicitors. It was ten +years or so after this case that Mr. Crellan senior—the +head of the firm—retired into private life, +and by an odd chance Hewitt's first meeting with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +him after that event was occasioned by another +will difficulty.</p> + +<p>These were the terms of the telegram that +brought Hewitt again into personal relations with +his old principal:—</p> + +<p>"<i>Can you run down at once on a matter of private +business? I will be at Guildford to meet eleven thirty-five +from Waterloo. If later or prevented please wire. +Crellan.</i>"</p> + +<p>The day and the state of Hewitt's engagements +suited, and there was full half an hour to catch +the train. Taking, therefore, the small travelling-bag +that always stood ready packed in case of any +sudden excursion that presented the possibility of +a night from home, he got early to Waterloo, and +by half-past twelve was alighting at Guildford +Station. Mr. Crellan, a hale, white-haired old gentleman, +wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, was waiting +with a covered carriage.</p> + +<p>"How d'ye do, Mr. Hewitt, how d'ye do?" the +old gentleman exclaimed as soon as they met, +grasping Hewitt's hand, and hurrying him toward +the carriage. "I'm glad you've come, very glad. +It isn't raining, and you might have preferred +something more open, but I brought the brougham +because I want to talk privately. I've been +vegetating to such an extent for the last few +years down here that any little occurrence out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +the ordinary excites me, and I'm sure I couldn't +have kept quiet till we had got indoors. It's +been bad enough, keeping the thing to myself, already."</p> + +<p>The door shut, and the brougham started. Mr. +Crellan laid his hand on Hewitt's knee, "I hope," +he said, "I haven't dragged you away from any important +business?"</p> + +<p>"No," Hewitt replied, "you have chosen a most +excellent time. Indeed, I did think of making a +small holiday to-day, but your telegram——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. Do you know, I was almost +ashamed of having sent it after it had gone. Because, +after all, the matter is, probably, really a +very simple sort of affair that you can't possibly +help me in. A few years ago I should have thought +nothing of it, nothing at all. But as I have told +you, I've got into such a dull, vegetable state of +mind since I retired and have nothing to do that +a little thing upsets me, and I haven't mental +energy enough to make up my mind to go to dinner +sometimes. But you're an old friend, and I'm +sure you'll forgive my dragging you all down here +on a matter that will, perhaps, seem ridiculously +simple to you, a man in the thick of active business. +If I hadn't known you so well I wouldn't +have had the impudence to bother you. But +never mind all that. I'll tell you.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you ever remember my speaking of an intimate +friend, a Mr. Holford? No. Well, it's a +long time ago, and perhaps I never happened to +mention him. He was a most excellent man—old +fellow, like me, you know; two or three years older, +as a matter of fact. We were chums many years +ago; in fact, we lodged in the same house when +I was an articled clerk and he was a student at +Guy's. He retired from the medical profession +early, having come into a fortune, and came down +here to live at the house we're going to; as a matter +of fact, Wedbury Hall.</p> + +<p>"When I retired I came down and took up my +quarters not far off, and we were a very excellent +pair of old chums till last Monday—the day before +yesterday—when my poor old friend died. He was +pretty well in years—seventy-three—and a man +can't live for ever. But I assure you it has upset +me terribly, made a greater fool of me than ever, in +fact, just when I ought to have my wits about me.</p> + +<p>"The reason I particularly want my wits just +now, and the reason I have requisitioned yours, is +this: that I can't find poor old Holford's will. I +drew it up for him years ago, and by it I was appointed +his sole executor. I am perfectly convinced +that he cannot have destroyed it, because he told +me everything concerning his affairs. I have always +been his only adviser, in fact, and I'm sure he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +have consulted me as to any change in his testamentary +intentions before he made it. Moreover, +there are reasons why I know he could not have +wished to die intestate."</p> + +<p>"Which are——?" queried Hewitt as Mr. Crellan +paused in his statement.</p> + +<p>"Which are these: Holford was a widower, with +no children of his own. His wife, who has been +dead nearly fifteen years now, was a most excellent +woman, a model wife, and would have been a model +mother if she had been one at all. As it was she +adopted a little girl, a poor little soul who was left +an orphan at two years of age. The child's father, +an unsuccessful man of business of the name of +Garth, maddened by a sudden and ruinous loss, committed +suicide, and his wife died of the shock occasioned +by the calamity.</p> + +<p>"The child, as I have said, was taken by Mrs. +Holford and made a daughter of, and my old friend's +daughter she has been ever since, practically speaking. +The poor old fellow couldn't possibly have +been more attached to a daughter of his own, and +on her part she couldn't possibly have been a better +daughter than she was. She stuck by him night and +day during his last illness, until she became rather +ill herself, although of course there was a regular +nurse always in attendance.</p> + +<p>"Now, in his will, Mr. Holford bequeathed rather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +more than half of his very large property to this +Miss Garth; that is to say, as residuary legatee, her +interest in the will came to about that. The rest +was distributed in various ways. Holford had +largely spent the leisure of his retirement in scientific +pursuits. So there were a few legacies to learned +societies; all his servants were remembered; he left +me a certain number of his books; and there was a +very fair sum of money for his nephew, Mr. Cranley +Mellis, the only near relation of Mr. Holford's still +living. So that you see what the loss of this will +may mean. Miss Garth, who was to have taken the +greater part of her adoptive father's property, will +not have one shilling's worth of claim on the estate +and will be turned out into the world without a cent. +One or two very old servants will be very awkwardly +placed, too, with nothing to live on, and very little +prospect of doing more work."</p> + +<p>"Everything will go to this nephew," said Hewitt, +"of course?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. That is unless I attempt to prove a +rough copy of the will which I may possibly have by +me. But even if I have such a thing and find it, +long and costly litigation would be called for, and +the result would probably be all against us."</p> + +<p>"You say you feel sure Mr. Holford did not destroy +the will himself?"</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure he would never have done so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +without telling me of it; indeed, I am sure he would +have consulted me first. Moreover, it can never +have been his intention to leave Miss Garth utterly +unprovided for; it would be the same thing as disinheriting +his only daughter."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him frequently?"</p> + +<p>"There's scarcely been a day when I haven't +seen him since I have lived down here. During +his illness—it lasted a month—I saw him every +day."</p> + +<p>"And he said nothing of destroying his will?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all. On the contrary, soon after his +first seizure—indeed, on the first visit at which I +found him in bed—he said, after telling me how he +felt, 'Everything's as I want it, you know, in case I +go under.' That seemed to me to mean his will was +still as he desired it to be."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, it would seem so. But counsel on +the other side (supposing there were another side) +might quite as plausibly argue that he meant to die +intestate, and had destroyed his will so that everything +should be as he wanted it, in that sense. But +what do you want me to do—find the will?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you can. It seemed to me that +you, with your clever head, might be able to form a +better judgment than I as to what has happened and +who is responsible for it. Because if the will <i>has</i> +been taken away, some one has taken it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It seems probable. Have you told any one of +your difficulty?"</p> + +<p>"Not a soul. I came over as soon as I could +after Mr. Holford's death, and Miss Garth gave me +all the keys, because, as executor, the case being a +peculiar one, I wished to see that all was in order, +and, as you know, the estate is legally vested in the +executor from the death of the testator, so that I +was responsible for everything; although, of course, +if there is no will I'm not executor. But I thought +it best to keep the difficulty to myself till I saw +you."</p> + +<p>"Quite right. Is this Wedbury Hall?"</p> + +<p>The brougham had passed a lodge gate, and +approached, by a wide drive, a fine old red brick +mansion carrying the heavy stone dressings and +copings distinctive of early eighteenth century domestic +architecture.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. Crellan, "this is the place. We +will go straight to the study, I think, and then I +can explain details."</p> + +<p>The study told the tale of the late Mr. Holford's +habits and interests. It was half a library, half a +scientific laboratory—pathological curiosities in +spirits, a retort or two, test tubes on the writing-table, +and a fossilized lizard mounted in a case, +balanced the many shelves and cases of books +disposed about the walls. In a recess between two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +book-cases stood a heavy, old-fashioned mahogany +bureau.</p> + +<p>"Now it was in that bureau," Mr. Crellan explained, +indicating it with his finger, "that Mr. Holford +kept every document that was in the smallest +degree important or valuable. I have seen him at it +a hundred times, and he always maintained it was as +secure as any iron safe. That may not have been +altogether the fact, but the bureau is certainly a tremendously +heavy and strong one. Feel it."</p> + +<p>Hewitt took down the front and pulled out a +drawer that Mr. Crellan unlocked for the purpose.</p> + +<p>"Solid Spanish mahogany an inch thick," was his +verdict, "heavy, hard, and seasoned; not the sort of +thing you can buy nowadays. Locks, Chubb's patent, +early pattern, but not easily to be picked by +anything short of a blast of gunpowder. If there +are no marks on this bureau it hasn't been tampered +with."</p> + +<p>"Well," Mr. Crellan pursued, "as I say, <i>that</i> was +where Mr. Holford kept his will. I have often seen +it when we have been here together, and this was +the drawer, the top on the right, that he kept it in. +The will was a mere single sheet of foolscap, and +was kept, folded of course, in a blue envelope."</p> + +<p>"When did you yourself last actually see the +will?"</p> + +<p>"I saw it in my friend's hand two days before he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +took to his bed. He merely lifted it in his hand to +get at something else in the drawer, replaced it, and +locked the drawer again."</p> + +<p>"Of course there are other drawers, bureaux, and +so on, about the place. You have examined them +carefully, I take it?"</p> + +<p>"I've turned out ever possible receptacle for that +will in the house, I positively assure you, and there +isn't a trace of it."</p> + +<p>"You've thought of secret drawers, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There are two in the bureau which I +always knew of. Here they are." Mr. Crellan +pressed his thumb against a partition of the pigeon-holes +at the back of the bureau and a strip of +mahogany flew out from below, revealing two shallow +drawers with small ivory catches in lieu of +knobs. "Nothing there at all. And this other, as +I have said, was the drawer where the will was kept. +The other papers kept in the same drawer are here +as usual."</p> + +<p>"Did anybody else know where Mr. Holford +kept his will?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody in the house, I should think. He +was a frank, above-board sort of man. His adopted +daughter knew, and the butler knew, and there was +absolutely no reason why all the other servants +shouldn't know; probably they did."</p> + +<p>"First," said Hewitt, "we will make quite sure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +there are no more secret drawers about this bureau. +Lock the door in case anybody comes."</p> + +<p>Hewitt took out every drawer of the bureau, and +examined every part of each before he laid it aside. +Then he produced a small pair of silver callipers and +an ivory pocket-rule and went over every inch of +the heavy framework, measuring, comparing, tapping, +adding, and subtracting dimensions. In the +end he rose to his feet satisfied. "There is most +certainly nothing concealed there," he said.</p> + +<p>The drawers were put back, and Mr. Crellan +suggested lunch. At Hewitt's suggestion it was +brought to the study.</p> + +<p>"So far," Hewitt said, "we arrive at this: either +Mr. Holford has destroyed his will, or he has most +effectually concealed it, or somebody has stolen it. +The first of these possibilities you don't favour."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it is a possibility for a moment. +I have told you why; and I knew Holford +so well, you know. For the same reasons I am sure +he never concealed it."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Somebody has stolen it. The +question is, who?"</p> + +<p>"That is so."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that every one in this house had +a direct and personal interest in preserving that +will. The servants have all something left them, +you say, and without the will that goes, of course.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +Miss Garth has the greatest possible interest in the +will. The only person I have heard of as yet who +would benefit by its loss or destruction would be the +nephew, Mr. Mellis. There are no other relatives, +you say, who would benefit by intestacy?"</p> + +<p>"Not one."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think yourself, now? Have +you any suspicions?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan shrugged his shoulders. "I've no +more right to suspicions than you have, I suppose," +he said. "Of course, if there are to be suspicions +they can only point one way. Mr. Mellis is the only +person who can gain by the disappearance of this +will."</p> + +<p>"Just so, Now, what do you know of him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know much of the young man," Mr. +Crellan said slowly. "I must say I never particularly +took to him. He is rather a clever fellow, I +believe. He was called to the bar some time ago, +and afterwards studied medicine, I believe, with the +idea of priming himself for a practice in medical +jurisprudence. He took a good deal of interest in +my old friend's researches, I am told—at any rate +he <i>said</i> he did; he may have been thinking of his +uncle's fortune. But they had a small tiff on some +medical question. I don't know exactly what it was, +but Mr. Holford objected to something—a method +of research or something of that kind—as being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +dangerous and unprofessional. There was no actual +rupture between them, you understand, but Mellis's +visits slacked off, and there was a coolness."</p> + +<p>"Where is Mr. Mellis now?"</p> + +<p>"In London, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Has he been in this house between the day you +last saw the will in that drawer and yesterday, when +you failed to find it?"</p> + +<p>"Only once. He came to see his uncle two days +before his death—last Saturday, in fact. He didn't +stay long."</p> + +<p>"Did you see him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What did he do?"</p> + +<p>"Merely came into the room for a few minutes—visitors +weren't allowed to stay long—spoke a little +to his uncle, and went back to town."</p> + +<p>"Did he do nothing else, or see anybody +else?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Garth went out of the room with him as +he left, and I should think they talked for a little +before he went away, to judge by the time she was +gone; but I don't know."</p> + +<p>"You are sure he went then?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him in the drive as I looked from the +window."</p> + +<p>"Miss Garth, you say, has kept all the keys since +the beginning of Mr. Holford's illness?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, until she gave them up to me yesterday. +Indeed, the nurse, who is rather a peppery customer, +and was jealous of Miss Garth's presence in the sick +room all along, made several difficulties about having +to go to her for everything."</p> + +<p>"And there is no doubt of the bureau having +been kept locked all the time?"</p> + +<p>"None at all. I have asked Miss Garth that—and, +indeed, a good many other things—without saying +why I wanted the information."</p> + +<p>"How are Mr. Mellis and Miss Garth affected +toward one another—are they friendly?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Indeed, some while ago I rather +fancied that Mellis was disposed to pay serious +addresses in that quarter. He may have had a +fancy that way, or he may have been attracted by +the young lady's expectations. At any rate, nothing +definite seems to have come of it as yet. But I +must say—between ourselves, of course—I have +more than once noticed a decided air of agitation, +shyness perhaps, in Miss Garth when Mr. Mellis has +been present. But, at any rate, that scarcely matters. +She is twenty-four years of age now, and can +do as she likes. Although, if I had anything to say +in the matter—well, never mind."</p> + +<p>"You, I take it, have known Miss Garth a long +time?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, yes. Danced her on my knee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +twenty years ago. I've been her 'Uncle Leonard' +all her life."</p> + +<p>"Well, I think we must at least let Miss Garth +know of the loss of the will. Perhaps, when they +have cleared away these plates, she will come here +for a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"I'll go and ask her," Mr. Crellan answered, and +having rung the bell, proceeded to find Miss Garth.</p> + +<p>Presently he returned with the lady. She was a +slight, very pale young woman; no doubt rather +pretty in ordinary, but now not looking her best. +She was evidently worn and nervous from anxiety +and want of sleep, and her eyes were sadly inflamed. +As the wind slammed a loose casement behind her +she started nervously, and placed her hand to her +head.</p> + +<p>"Sit down at once, my dear," Mr. Crellan said; +"sit down. This is Mr. Martin Hewitt, whom I +have taken the liberty of inviting down here to help +me in a very important matter. The fact is, my +dear," Mr. Crellan added gravely, "I can't find your +poor father's will."</p> + +<p>Miss Garth was not surprised. "I thought so," +she said mildly, "when you asked me about the +bureau yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Of course I need not say, my dear, what a serious +thing it may be for you if that will cannot be +found. So I hope you'll try and tell Mr. Hewitt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +here anything he wants to know as well as you can, +without forgetting a single thing. I'm pretty sure +that he will find it for us if it is to be found."</p> + +<p>"I understand, Miss Garth," Hewitt asked, "that +the keys of that bureau never left your possession +during the whole time of Mr. Holford's last illness, +and that the bureau was kept locked?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is so."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever have occasion to go to the bureau +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have not touched it."</p> + +<p>"Then you can answer for it, I presume, that +the bureau was never unlocked by <i>any one</i> from the +time Mr. Holford placed the keys in your hands +till you gave them to Mr. Crellan?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Very good. Now is there any place on the +whole premises that you can suggest where this will +may possibly be hidden?"</p> + +<p>"There is no place that Mr. Crellan doesn't +know of, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"It is an old house, I observe," Hewitt pursued. +"Do you know of any place of concealment in the +structure—any secret doors, I mean, you know, or +sliding panels, or hollow door frames, and so +forth?"</p> + +<p>Miss Garth shook her head. "There is not a +single place of the sort you speak of in the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +building, so far as I know," she said, "and I have +lived here almost all my life."</p> + +<p>"You knew the purport of Mr. Holford's will, I +take it, and understand what its loss may mean to +yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"Now I must ask you to consider carefully. +Take your mind back to two or three days before +Mr. Holford's illness began, and tell me if you can +remember any single fact, occurrence, word, or hint +from that day to this in any way bearing on the will +or anything connected with it?"</p> + +<p>Miss Garth shook her head thoughtfully. "I +can't remember the thing being mentioned by anybody, +except perhaps by the nurse, who is rather a +touchy sort of woman, and once or twice took it +upon herself to hint that my recent anxiety was +chiefly about my poor father's money. And that +once, when I had done some small thing for him, +my father—I have always called him father, you +know—said that he wouldn't forget it, or that I +should be rewarded, or something of that sort. +Nothing else that I can remember in the remotest +degree concerned the will."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mellis said nothing about it, then?"</p> + +<p>Miss Garth changed colour slightly, but answered, +"No, I only saw him to the door."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Garth, I won't trouble you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +any further just now. But if you <i>can</i> remember +anything more in the course of the next few hours +it may turn out to be of great service."</p> + +<p>Miss Garth bowed and withdrew. Mr. Crellan +shut the door behind her and returned to Hewitt. +"<i>That</i> doesn't carry us much further," he said. +"The more certain it seems that the will cannot +have been got at, the more difficult our position +is from a legal point of view. What shall we do +now?"</p> + +<p>"Is the nurse still about the place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe so."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll speak to her."</p> + +<p>The nurse came in response to Mr. Crellan's +summons: a sharp-featured, pragmatical woman of +forty-five. She took the seat offered her, and +waited for Hewitt's questions.</p> + +<p>"You were in attendance on Mr. Holford, I believe, +Mrs. Turton, since the beginning of his last +illness?"</p> + +<p>"Since October 24th."</p> + +<p>"Were you present when Mr. Mellis came to see +his uncle last Saturday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what took place?"</p> + +<p>"As to what the gentleman said to Mr. Holford," +the nurse replied, bridling slightly, "of +course I don't know anything, it not being my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +business and not intended for my ears. Mr. +Crellan was there, and knows as much as I do, +and so does Miss Garth. I only know that Mr. +Mellis stayed for a few minutes and then went +out of the room with Miss Garth."</p> + +<p>"How long was Miss Garth gone?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, ten minutes or a quarter of an +hour, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Now Mrs. Turton, I want you to tell me in +confidence—it is very important—whether you, at +any time, heard Mr. Holford during his illness say +anything of his wishes as to how his property was +to be left in case of his death?"</p> + +<p>The nurse started and looked keenly from Hewitt +to Mr. Crellan and back again.</p> + +<p>"Is it the will you mean?" she asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Did he mention it?"</p> + +<p>"You mean you can't find the will, isn't that +it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, suppose it is, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose won't do," the nurse answered +shortly; "I <i>do</i> know something about the will, +and I believe you can't find it."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, Mrs. Turton, that if you know anything +about the will you will tell Mr. Crellan in the +interests of right and justice."</p> + +<p>"And who's to protect me against the spite of +those I shall offend if I tell you?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan interposed.</p> + +<p>"Whatever you tell us, Mrs. Turton," he said, +"will be held in the strictest confidence, and the +source of our information shall not be divulged. +For that I give you my word of honour. And, I +need scarcely add, I will see that you come to no +harm by anything you may say."</p> + +<p>"Then the will <i>is</i> lost. I may understand +that?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt's features were impassive and impenetrable. +But in Mr. Crellan's disturbed face the +nurse saw a plain answer in the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I see that's the trouble. +Well, I know who took it."</p> + +<p>"Then who was it?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Miss Garth!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Miss Garth! Nonsense!" cried Mr. Crellan, +starting upright. "Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"It may be nonsense," the nurse replied slowly, +with a monotonous emphasis on each word. "It +may be nonsense, but it's a fact. I saw her +take it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan simply gasped. Hewitt drew his +chair a little nearer.</p> + +<p>"If you saw her take it," he said gently, closely +watching the woman's face the while, "then, of +course, there's no doubt."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I saw her take it," the nurse re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>peated. +"What was in it, and what her game was +in taking it, I don't know. But it was in that +bureau, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—probably."</p> + +<p>"In the right hand top drawer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"A white paper in a blue envelope?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then I saw her take it, as I said before. She +unlocked that drawer before my eyes, took it out, +and locked the drawer again."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan turned blankly to Hewitt, but +Hewitt kept his eyes on the nurse's face.</p> + +<p>"When did this occur?" he asked, "and +how?"</p> + +<p>"It was on Saturday night, rather late. Everybody +was in bed but Miss Garth and myself, and +she had been down to the dining-room for something. +Mr. Holford was asleep, so as I wanted to +re-fill the water-bottle, I took it up and went. As +I was passing the door of this room that we are in +now, I heard a noise, and looked in at the door, +which was open. There was a candle on the table +which had been left there earlier in the evening. +Miss Garth was opening the top right hand drawer +of <i>that</i> bureau"—Mrs. Turton stabbed her finger +spitefully toward the piece of furniture, as though +she owed it a personal grudge—"and I saw her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +take out a blue foolscap envelope, and as the flap +was open, I could see the enclosed paper was white. +She shut the drawer, locked it, and came out of the +room with the envelope in her hand."</p> + +<p>"And what did you do?"</p> + +<p>"I hurried on, and she came away without seeing +me, and went in the opposite direction—toward +the small staircase."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," Mr. Crellan ventured at a blurt, +"perhaps she was walking in her sleep?"</p> + +<p>"That she wasn't!" the nurse replied, "for she +came back to Mr. Holford's room almost as soon +as I returned there, and asked some questions +about the medicine—which was nothing new, for I +must say she was very fond of interfering in things +that were part of my business."</p> + +<p>"That is quite certain, I suppose," Hewitt +remarked—"that she could not have been +asleep?"</p> + +<p>"Quite certain. She talked for about a quarter +of an hour, and wanted to kiss Mr. Holford, which +might have wakened him, before she went to bed. +In fact, I may say we had a disagreement."</p> + +<p>Hewitt did not take his steady gaze from the +nurse's face for some seconds after she had finished +speaking. Then he only said, "Thank you, Mrs. +Turton. I need scarcely assure you, after what Mr. +Crellan has said, that your confidence shall not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +be betrayed. I think that is all, unless you have +more to tell us."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Turton bowed and rose. "There is nothing +more," she said, and left the room.</p> + +<p>As soon as she had gone, "Is Mrs. Turton at all +interested in the will," Hewitt asked.</p> + +<p>"No, there is nothing for her. She is a new-comer, +you see. Perhaps," Mr. Crellan went on, +struck by an idea, "she may be jealous, or something. +She seems a spiteful woman—and really, I +can't believe her story for a moment."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, it's absurd. Why should Miss +Garth go to all this secret trouble to do herself +an injury—to make a beggar of herself? And +besides, she's not in the habit of telling barefaced +lies. She distinctly assured us, you remember, +that she had never been to the bureau for any +purpose whatever."</p> + +<p>"But the nurse has an honest character, hasn't +she?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, her character is excellent. Indeed, from +all accounts, she is a very excellent woman, except +for a desire to govern everybody, and a habit of +spite if she is thwarted. But, of course, that sort +of thing sometimes leads people rather far."</p> + +<p>"So it does," Hewitt replied. "But consider +now. Is it not possible that Miss Garth, com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>pletely +infatuated with Mr. Mellis, thinks she is +doing a noble thing for him by destroying the +will and giving up her whole claim to his uncle's +property? Devoted women do just such things, +you know."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan stared, bent his head to his hand, +and considered. "So they do, so they do," he +said. "Insane foolery. Really, it's the sort of +thing I can imagine her doing—she's honour and +generosity itself. But then those lies," he resumed, +sitting up and slapping his leg; "I can't +believe she'd tell such tremendous lies as that for +anybody. And with such a calm face, too—I'm +sure she couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's as it may be. You can scarcely +set a limit to the lengths a woman will go on behalf +of a man she loves. I suppose, by the bye, +Miss Garth is not exactly what you would call a +'strong-minded' woman?"</p> + +<p>"No, she's not that. She'd never get on in the +world by herself. She's a good little soul, but +nervous—very; and her month of anxiety, grief, +and want of sleep seems to have broken her up."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mellis knows of the death, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I telegraphed to him at his chambers in London +the first thing yesterday—Tuesday—morning, +as soon as the telegraph office was open. He came +here (as I've forgotten to tell you as yet) the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +thing this morning—before I was over here myself, +in fact. He had been staying not far off—at Ockham, +I think—and the telegram had been sent on. +He saw Miss Garth, but couldn't stay, having to +get back to London. I met him going away as I +came, about eleven o'clock. Of course I said nothing +about the fact that I couldn't find the will, but +he will probably be down again soon, and may ask +questions."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Hewitt replied. "And speaking of that +matter, you can no doubt talk with Miss Garth on +very intimate and familiar terms?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—yes; I've told you what old friends +we are."</p> + +<p>"I wish you could manage, at some favourable +opportunity to-day, to speak to her alone, and without +referring to the will in any way, get to know, +as circumspectly and delicately as you can, how she +stands in regard to Mr. Mellis. Whether he is an +accepted lover, or likely to be one, you know. +Whatever answer you may get, you may judge, I +expect, by her manner how things really are."</p> + +<p>"Very good—I'll seize the first chance. Meanwhile +what to do?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I'm afraid, except perhaps to examine +other pieces of furniture as closely as we have examined +this bureau."</p> + +<p>Other bureaux, desks, tables, and chests were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +examined fruitlessly. It was not until after dinner +that Mr. Crellan saw a favourable opportunity of +sounding Miss Garth as he had promised. Half an +hour later he came to Hewitt in the study, more +puzzled than ever.</p> + +<p>"There's no engagement between them," he reported, +"secret or open, nor ever has been. It +seems, from what I can make out, going to work +as diplomatically as possible, that Mellis <i>did</i> propose +to her, or something very near it, a time ago, +and was point-blank refused. Altogether, Miss +Garth's sentiment for him appears to be rather +dislike than otherwise."</p> + +<p>"That rather knocks a hole in the theory of +self-sacrifice, doesn't it?" Hewitt remarked. "I +shall have to think over this, and sleep on it. It's +possible that it may be necessary to-morrow for you +to tax Miss Garth, point-blank, with having taken +away the will. Still, I hope not."</p> + +<p>"I hope not, too," Mr. Crellan said, rather +dubious as to the result of such an experiment. +"She has been quite upset enough already. And, +by the bye, she didn't seem any the better or more +composed after Mellis' visit this morning."</p> + +<p>"Still, <i>then</i> the will was gone."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>And so Hewitt and Mr. Crellan talked on late +into the evening, turning over every apparent possi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>bility +and finding reason in none. The household +went to bed at ten, and, soon after, Miss Garth +came to bid Mr. Crellan good-night. It had been +settled that both Martin Hewitt and Mr. Crellan +should stay the night at Wedbury Hall.</p> + +<p>Soon all was still, and the ticking of the tall +clock in the hall below could be heard as distinctly +as though it were in the study, while the rain +without dropped from eaves and sills in regular +splashes. Twelve o'clock struck, and Mr. Crellan +was about to suggest retirement, when the sound +of a light footstep startled Hewitt's alert ear. +He raised his hand to enjoin silence, and stepped +to the door of the room, Mr. Crellan following +him.</p> + +<p>There was a light over the staircase, seven or +eight yards away, and down the stairs came Miss +Garth in dressing gown and slippers; she turned at +the landing and vanished in a passage leading to +the right.</p> + +<p>"Where does that lead to?" Hewitt whispered +hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Toward the small staircase—other end of +house," Mr. Crellan replied in the same tones.</p> + +<p>"Come quietly," said Hewitt, and stepped lightly +after Miss Garth, Mr. Crellan at his heels.</p> + +<p>She was nearing the opposite end of the passage, +walking at a fair pace and looking neither to right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +nor left. There was another light over the smaller +staircase at the end. Without hesitation Miss Garth +turned down the stairs till about half down the +flight, and then stopped and pressed her hand +against the oak wainscot.</p> + +<p>Immediately the vertical piece of framing against +which she had placed her hand turned on central +pivots top and bottom, revealing a small recess, +three feet high and little more than six inches +wide. Miss Garth stooped and felt about at the +bottom of this recess for several seconds. Then +with every sign of extreme agitation and horror she +withdrew her hand empty, and sank on the stairs. +Her head rolled from side to side on her shoulders, +and beads of perspiration stood on her forehead. +Hewitt with difficulty restrained Mr. Crellan from +going to her assistance.</p> + +<p>Presently, with a sort of shuddering sigh, Miss +Garth rose, and after standing irresolute for a moment, +descended the flight of stairs to the bottom. +There she stopped again, and pressing her hand to +her forehead, turned and began to re-ascend the +stairs.</p> + +<p>Hewitt touched his companion's arm, and the +two hastily but noiselessly made their way back +along the passage to the study. Miss Garth left +the open framing as it was, reached the top of the +landing, and without stopping proceeded along the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +passage and turned up the main staircase, while +Hewitt and Mr. Crellan still watched her from the +study door.</p> + +<p>At the top of the flight she turned to the right, +and up three or four more steps toward her own +room. There she stopped, and leaned thoughtfully +on the handrail.</p> + +<p>"Go up," whispered Hewitt to Mr. Crellan, "as +though you were going to bed. Appear surprised +to see her; ask if she isn't well, and, if you can, +manage to repeat that question of mine about +secret hiding-places in the house."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan nodded and started quickly up the +stairs. Half-way up he turned his head, and, as +he went on, "Why, Nelly, my dear," he said, +"what's the matter? Aren't you well?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan acted his part well, and waiting below, +Hewitt heard this dialogue:</p> + +<p>"No, uncle, I don't feel very well, but it's nothing. +I think my room seems close. I can scarcely +breathe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it isn't close to-night. You'll be catching +cold, my dear. Go and have a good sleep; you +mustn't worry that wise little head of yours, you +know. Mr. Hewitt and I have been making quite +a night of it, but I'm off to bed now."</p> + +<p>"I hope they've made you both quite comfortable, +uncle?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; capital, capital. We've been talking +over business, and, no doubt, we shall put that +matter all in order soon. By the bye, I suppose +since you saw Mr. Hewitt you haven't happened +to remember anything more to tell him?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You still can't remember any hiding-places or +panels, or that sort of thing in the wainscot or +anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm sure I don't know of any, and I don't +believe for a moment that any exist."</p> + +<p>"Quite sure of that, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"All right. Now go to bed. You'll catch <i>such</i> +a cold in these draughty landings. Come, I won't +move a step till I see your door shut behind you. +Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, uncle."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan came downstairs again with a face +of blank puzzlement.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have believed it," he assured Martin +Hewitt; "positively I wouldn't have believed +she'd have told such a lie, and with such confidence, +too. There's something deep and horrible +here, I'm afraid. What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"We'll talk of that afterwards," Hewitt replied. +"Come now and take a look at that recess."</p> + +<p>They went, quietly still, to the small staircase,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +and there, with a candle, closely examined the recess. +It was a mere box, three feet high, a foot or +a little more deep, and six or seven inches wide. +The piece of oak framing, pivoted to the stair at +the bottom and to a horizontal piece of framing +at the top, stood edge forward, dividing the opening +down the centre. There was nothing whatever +in the recess.</p> + +<p>Hewitt ascertained that there was no catch, the +plank simply remaining shut by virtue of fitting +tightly, so that nothing but pressure on the +proper part was requisite to open it. He had +closed the plank and turned to speak to Mr. +Crellan, when another interruption occurred.</p> + +<p>On each floor the two staircases were joined +by passages, and the ground-floor passage, from the +foot of the flight they were on, led to the entrance +hall. Distinct amid the loud clicking of the hall +clock, Hewitt now heard a sound, as of a person's +foot shifting on a stone step.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan heard it too, and each glanced at +the other. Then Hewitt, shading the candle with +his hand, led the way to the hall. There they listened +for several seconds—almost an hour—it +seemed—and then the noise was repeated. There +was no doubt of it. It was at the other side of +the front door.</p> + +<p>In answer to Hewitt's hurried whispers, Mr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +Crellan assured him that there was no window +from which, in the dark, a view could be got of a +person standing outside the door. Also that any +other way out would be equally noisy, and would entail +the circuit of the house. The front door was +fastened by three heavy bolts, an immense old-fashioned +lock, and a bar. It would take nearly a +minute to open at least, even if everything went +easily. But, as there was no other way, Hewitt +determined to try it. Handing the candle to his +companion, he first lifted the bar, conceiving that +it might be done with the least noise. It went +easily, and, handling it carefully, Hewitt let it hang +from its rivet without a sound. Just then, glancing +at Mr. Crellan, he saw that he was forgetting to +shade the candle, whose rays extended through the +fanlight above the door, and probably through the +wide crack under it. But it was too late. At the +same moment the light was evidently perceived +from outside; there was a hurried jump from the +steps, and for an instant a sound of running on +gravel. Hewitt tore back the bolts, flung the +door open, and dashed out into the darkness, +leaving Mr. Crellan on the doorstep with the +candle.</p> + +<p>Hewitt was gone, perhaps, five or ten minutes, +although to Mr. Crellan—standing there at the +open door in a state of high nervous tension, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +with no notion of what was happening or what it +all meant—the time seemed an eternity. When at +last Hewitt reached the door again, "What was +it?" asked Mr. Crellan, much agitated. "Did you +see? Have you caught them?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't a chance," he said. "The wall is low +over there, and there's a plantation of trees at the +other side. But I think—yes, I begin to think—that +I may possibly be able to see my way through this +business in a little while. See this?"</p> + +<p>On the top step in the sheltered porch there +remained the wet prints of two feet. Hewitt took +a letter from his pocket, opened it out, spread it +carefully over the more perfect of the two marks, +pressed it lightly and lifted it. Then, when the +door was shut, he produced his pocket scissors, +and with great care cut away the paper round the +wet part, leaving a piece, of course, the shape of a +boot sole.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Hewitt, "we may get at something +after all. Don't ask me to tell you anything now; +I don't know anything, as a matter of fact. I +hope this is the end of the night's entertainment, +but I'm afraid the case is rather an unpleasant +business. There is nothing for us to do now but +to go to bed, I think. I suppose there's a handy +man kept about the place?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, he's gardener and carpenter and carpet-beater, +and so on."</p> + +<p>"Good! Where's his sanctum? Where does he +keep his shovels and carpet sticks?"</p> + +<p>"In the shed by the coach house, I believe. I +think it's generally unlocked."</p> + +<p>"Very good. We've earned a night's rest, and +now we'll have it."</p> + +<p>The next morning, after breakfast, Hewitt took +Mr. Crellan into the study.</p> + +<p>"Can you manage," he said, "to send Miss +Garth out for a walk this morning—with somebody?"</p> + +<p>"I can send her out for a ride with the groom—unless +she thinks it wouldn't be the thing to go +riding so soon after her bereavement."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, that will do. Send her at once, +and see that she goes. Call it doctor's orders; say +she must go for her health's sake—anything."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan departed, used his influence, and in +half an hour Miss Garth had gone.</p> + +<p>"I was up pretty early this morning," Hewitt +remarked on Mr. Crellan's return to the study, +"and, among other things, I sent a telegram to +London. Unless my eyes deceive me, a boy with +a peaked cap—a telegraph boy, in fact—is coming +up the drive this moment. Yes, he is. It is probably +my answer."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a few minutes a telegram was brought in. +Hewitt read it and then asked,—</p> + +<p>"Your friend Mr. Mellis, I understand, was +going straight to town yesterday morning?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Read that, then."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan took the telegram and read:</p> + +<p>"<i>Mellis did not sleep at chambers last night. Been +out of town for some days past. Kerrett.</i>"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan looked up.</p> + +<p>"Who's Kerrett?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Lad in my office; sharp fellow. You see, +Mellis didn't go to town after all. As a matter of +fact, I believe he was nearer this place than we +thought. You said he had a disagreement with +his uncle because of scientific practices which the +old gentleman considered 'dangerous and unprofessional,' +I think?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was the case."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then the key to all the mystery of the will +is in this room."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"There." Hewitt pointed to the book-cases. +"Read Bernheim's <i>Suggestive Therapeutics</i>, and +one or two books of Heidenhain's and Björnström's +and you'll see the thing more clearly +than you can without them; but that would be +rather a long sort of job, so——but why, who's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +this? Somebody coming up the drive in a fly, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mr. Crellan replied, looking out of the +window. Presently he added, "It's Cranley Mellis."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Hewitt, "he won't trouble us for a +little. I'll bet you a penny cake he goes first by +himself to the small staircase and tries that secret +recess. If you get a little way along the passage +you will be able to see him; but that will scarcely +matter—I can see you don't guess now what I am +driving at."</p> + +<p>"I don't in the least."</p> + +<p>"I told you the names of the books in which +you could read the matter up; but that would be +too long for the present purpose. The thing is +fairly well summarised, I see, in that encyclopædia +there in the corner. I have put a marker in volume +seven. Do you mind opening it at that place and +seeing for yourself?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan, doubtful and bewildered, reached +the volume. It opened readily, and in the place +where it opened lay a blue foolscap envelope. The +old gentleman took the envelope, drew from it +a white paper, stared first at the paper, then at +Hewitt, then at the paper again, let the volume +slide from his lap, and gasped,—</p> + +<p>"Why—why—it's the will!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, so I thought," said Hewitt, catching the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +book as it fell. "But don't lose this place in the +encyclopædia. Read the name of the article. +What is it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan looked absent-mindedly at the title, +holding the will before him all the time. Then, mechanically, +he read aloud the word, "<i>Hypnotism</i>."</p> + +<p>"Hypnotism it is," Hewitt answered. "A dangerous +and terrible power in the hands of an unscrupulous +man."</p> + +<p>"But—but how? I don't understand it. This—this +is the real will, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Look at it; you know best."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan looked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "this certainly is the will. But +where did it come from? It hasn't been in this book +all the time, has it?"</p> + +<p>"No. Didn't I tell you I put it there myself as +a marker? But come, you'll understand my explanation +better if I first read you a few lines from this +article. See here now:—</p> + +<p>'Although hypnotism has power for good when +properly used by medical men, it is an exceedingly +dangerous weapon in the hands of the unskilful or +unscrupulous. Crimes have been committed by persons +who have been hypnotised. Just as a person +when hypnotised is rendered extremely impressionable, +and therefore capable of receiving beneficial +suggestions, so he is nearly as liable to receive sug<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>gestions +for evil; and it is quite possible for an +hypnotic subject, while under hypnotic influence, to +be impressed with the belief that he is to commit +some act after the influence is removed, and that act +he is safe to commit, acting at the time as an automaton. +Suggestions may be thus made of which +the subject, in his subsequent uninfluenced moments, +has no idea, but which he will proceed to carry out +automatically at the time appointed. In the case of +a complete state of hypnotism the subject has subsequently +no recollection whatever of what has happened. +Persons whose will or nerve power has been +weakened by fear or other similar causes can be +hypnotised without consent on their part.'"</p> + +<p>"There now, what do you make of that?"</p> + +<p>"Why, do you mean that Miss Garth has been +hypnotised by—by—Cranley Mellis?"</p> + +<p>"I think that is the case; indeed, I am pretty +sure of it. Notice, on the occasion of each of his +last two visits, he was alone with Miss Garth for +some little time. On the evening following each of +those visits she does something which she afterwards +knows nothing about—something connected with +the disappearance of this will, the only thing standing +between Mr. Mellis and the whole of his uncle's +property. Who could have been in a weaker nervous +state than Miss Garth has been lately? Remember, +too, on the visit of last Saturday, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +Miss Garth says she only showed Mellis to the door, +both you and the nurse speak of their being gone +some little time. Miss Garth must have forgotten +what took place then, when Mellis hypnotised her, +and impressed on her the suggestion that she should +take Mr. Holford's will that night, long after he—Mellis—had +gone, and when he could not be suspected +of knowing anything of it. Further, that +she should, at that time when her movements would +be less likely to be observed, secrete that will in a +place of hiding known only to himself."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, what a rascal! Do you really think +he did that?"</p> + +<p>"Not only that, but I believe he came here +yesterday morning while you were out to get the +will from the recess. The recess, by the bye, I expect +he discovered by accident on one of his visits +(he has been here pretty often, I suppose, altogether), +and kept the secret in case it might be useful. +Yesterday, not finding the will there, he hypnotised +Miss Garth once again, and conveyed the suggestion +that, at midnight last night, she should take the will +from wherever she had put it and pass it to him +under the front door."</p> + +<p>"What, do you mean it was he you chased across +the grounds last night?"</p> + +<p>"That is a thing I am pretty certain of. If we +had Mr. Mellis's boot here we could make sure by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +comparing it with the piece of paper I cut out, as +you will remember, in the entrance hall. As we +have the will, though, that will scarcely be necessary. +What he will do now, I expect, will be to go to +the recess again on the vague chance of the +will being there now, after all, assuming that his +second dose of mesmerism has somehow miscarried. +If Miss Garth were here he might try his +tricks again, and that is why I got you to send +her out."</p> + +<p>"And where did you find the will?"</p> + +<p>"Now you come to practical details. You will +remember that I asked about the handyman's tool-house? +Well, I paid it a visit at six o'clock this +morning, and found therein some very excellent +carpenter's tools in a chest. I took a selection of +them to the small staircase, and took out the tread +of a stair—the one that the pivoted framing-plank +rested on."</p> + +<p>"And you found the will there?"</p> + +<p>"The will, as I rather expected when I examined +the recess last night, had slipped down a rather wide +crack at the end of the stair timber, which, you +know, formed, so to speak, the floor of the recess. +The fact was, the stair-tread didn't quite reach as +far as the back of the recess. The opening wasn't +very distinct to see, but I soon felt it with my fingers. +When Miss Garth, in her hypnotic condition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +on Saturday night, dropped the will into the recess, +it shot straight to the back corner and fell down the +slit. That was why Mellis found it empty, and why +Miss Garth also found it empty on returning there +last night under hypnotic influence. You observed +her terrible state of nervous agitation when she +failed to carry out the command that haunted her. +It was frightful. Something like what happens to a +suddenly awakened somnambulist, perhaps. Anyway, +that is all over. I found the will under the end +of the stair-tread, and here it is. If you will come +to the small staircase now you shall see where the +paper slipped out of sight. Perhaps we shall meet +Mr. Mellis."</p> + +<p>"He's a scoundrel," said Mr. Crellan. "It's a +pity we can't punish him."</p> + +<p>"That's impossible, of course. Where's your +proof? And if you had any I'm not sure that a +hypnotist is responsible at law for what his subject +does. Even if he were, moving a will from +one part of the house to another is scarcely a +legal crime. The explanation I have given you +accounts entirely for the disturbed manner of Miss +Garth in the presence of Mellis. She merely felt +an indefinite sense of his power over her. Indeed, +there is all the possibility that, finding her an easy +subject, he had already practised his influence by +way of experiment. A hypnotist, as you will see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +in the books, has always an easier task with a +person he has hypnotised before."</p> + +<p>As Hewitt had guessed, in the corridor they +met Mr. Mellis. He was a thin, dark man of +about thirty-five, with large, bony features, and +a slight stoop. Mr. Crellan glared at him ferociously.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, and what do you want?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mellis looked surprised. "Really, that's a +very extraordinary remark, Mr. Crellan," he said. +"This is my late uncle's house. I might, with at +least as much reason, ask you what you want."</p> + +<p>"I'm here, sir, as Mr. Holford's executor."</p> + +<p>"Appointed by will?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And is the will in existence?"</p> + +<p>"Well—the fact is—we couldn't find it——"</p> + +<p>"Then, what do you mean, sir, by calling yourself +an executor with no will to warrant you?" +interrupted Mellis. "Get out of this house. If +there's no will, I administrate."</p> + +<p>"But there <i>is</i> a will," roared Mr. Crellan, shaking +it in his face. "There is a will. I didn't say +we hadn't found it yet, did I? There <i>is</i> a will, and +here it is in spite of all your diabolical tricks, with +your scoundrelly hypnotism and secret holes, and +the rest of it! Get out of this place, sir, or I'll have +you thrown out of the window!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Mellis shrugged his shoulders with an appearance +of perfect indifference. "If you've a will +appointing you executor it's all right, I suppose, +although I shall take care to hold you responsible +for any irregularities. As I don't in the least understand +your conduct, unless it is due to drink, I'll +leave you." And with that he went.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crellan boiled with indignation for a minute, +and then turning to Hewitt, "I say, I hope it's all +right," he said, "connecting him with all this queer +business?"</p> + +<p>"We shall soon see," replied Hewitt, "if you'll +come and look at the pivoted plank."</p> + +<p>They went to the small staircase, and Hewitt +once again opened the recess. Within lay a blue +foolscap envelope, which Hewitt picked up. "See," +he said, "it is torn at the corner. He has been +here and opened it. It's a fresh envelope, and I +left it for him this morning, with the corner +gummed down a little so that he would have to tear +it in opening. This is what was inside," Hewitt +added, and laughed aloud as he drew forth a rather +crumpled piece of white paper. "It was only a +childish trick after all," he concluded, "but I +always liked a small practical joke on occasion." +He held out the crumpled paper, on which was +inscribed in large capital letters the single word—"SOLD."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_CASE_OF_THE_MISSING_HAND" id="THE_CASE_OF_THE_MISSING_HAND"></a>THE CASE OF THE MISSING HAND.</h2> + + +<p>I think I have recorded in another place Hewitt's +frequent aphorism that "there is nothing in +this world that is at all possible that has not happened +or is not happening in London." But there +are many strange happenings in this matter-of-fact +country and in these matter-of-fact times that occur +far enough from London. Fantastic crimes, savage +revenges, mediæval superstitions, horrible cruelty, +though less in sight, have been no more extinguished +by the advent of the nineteenth century +than have the ancient races who practised them in +the dark ages. Some of the races have become civilized, +and some of the savageries are heard of no +more. But there are survivals in both cases. I say +these things having in my mind a particular case +that came under the personal notice of both Hewitt +and myself—an affair that brought one up standing +with a gasp and a doubt of one's era.</p> + +<p>My good uncle, the Colonel, was not in the habit +of gathering large house parties at his place at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +Ratherby, partly because the place was not a great +one, and partly because the Colonel's gout was. But +there was an excellent bit of shooting for two or +three guns, and even when he was unable to leave +the house himself, my uncle was always pleased if +some good friend were enjoying a good day's sport +in his territory. As to myself, the good old soul +was in a perpetual state of offence because I visited +him so seldom, though whenever my scant holidays +fell in a convenient time of the year I was never +insensible to the attractions of the Ratherby stubble. +More than once had I sat by the old gentleman +when his foot was exceptionally troublesome, +amusing him with accounts of some of the doings +of Martin Hewitt, and more than once had my uncle +expressed his desire to meet Hewitt himself, and +commissioned me with an invitation to be presented +to Hewitt at the first likely opportunity, for a joint +excursion to Ratherby. At length I persuaded +Hewitt to take a fortnight's rest, coincident with +a little vacation of my own, and we got down to +Ratherby within a few days past September the 1st, +and before a gun had been fired at the Colonel's bit +of shooting. The Colonel himself we found confined +to the house with his foot on the familiar rest, +and though ourselves were the only guests, we managed +to do pretty well together. It was during this +short holiday that the case I have mentioned arose.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + +<p>When first I began to record some of the more +interesting of Hewitt's operations, I think I explained +that such cases as I myself had not witnessed +I should set down in impersonal narrative +form, without intruding myself. The present case, +so far as Hewitt's work was concerned, I saw, but +there were circumstances which led up to it that we +only fully learned afterwards. These circumstances, +however, I shall put in their proper place—at the +beginning.</p> + +<p>The Fosters were a fairly old Ratherby family, +of whom Mr. John Foster had died by an accident +at the age of about forty, leaving a wife twelve +years younger than himself and three children, two +boys and one girl, who was the youngest. The boys +grew up strong, healthy, out-of-door young ruffians, +with all the tastes of sportsmen, and all the qualities, +good and bad, natural to lads of fairly well-disposed +character allowed a great deal too much of their +own way from the beginning.</p> + +<p>Their only real bad quality was an unfortunate +knack of bearing malice, and a certain savage vindictiveness +towards such persons as they chose to +consider their enemies. With the louts of the village +they were at unceasing war, and, indeed, once +got into serious trouble for peppering the butcher's +son (who certainly was a great blackguard) with +sparrow-shot. At the usual time they went to Ox<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>ford +together, and were fraternally sent down together +in their second year, after enjoying a spell of +rustication in their first. The offence was never +specifically mentioned about Ratherby, but was rumoured +of as something particularly outrageous.</p> + +<p>It was at this time, sixteen years or thereabout +after the death of their father, that Henry and Robert +Foster first saw and disliked Mr. Jonas Sneathy, +a director of penny banks and small insurance +offices. He visited Ranworth (the Fosters' home) a +great deal more than the brothers thought necessary, +and, indeed, it was not for lack of rudeness on +their part that Mr. Sneathy failed to understand, as +far as they were concerned, his room was preferred +to his company.</p> + +<p>But their mother welcomed him, and in the end +it was announced that Mrs. Foster was to marry +again, and that after that her name would be Mrs. +Sneathy.</p> + +<p>Hereupon there were violent scenes at Ranworth. +Henry and Robert Foster denounced their +prospective father-in-law as a fortune-hunter, a snuffler, +a hypocrite. They did not stop at broad hints +as to the honesty of his penny banks and insurance +offices, and the house straightway became a house of +bitter strife. The marriage took place, and it was +not long before Mr. Sneathy's real character became +generally obvious. For months he was a model, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +somewhat sanctimonious husband, and his influence +over his wife was complete. Then he discovered +that her property had been strictly secured by her +first husband's will, and that, willing as she might +be, she was unable to raise money for her new husband's +benefit, and was quite powerless to pass to +him any of her property by deed of gift. Hereupon +the man's nature showed itself. Foolish woman as +Mrs. Sneathy might be, she was a loving, indeed, an +infatuated wife; but Sneathy repaid her devotion by +vulgar derision, never hesitating to state plainly +that he had married her for his own profit, and that +he considered himself swindled in the result. More, +he even proceeded to blows and other practical +brutality of a sort only devisable by a mean and +ugly nature. This treatment, at first secret, became +open, and in the midst of it Mr. Sneathy's penny +banks and insurance offices came to a grievous +smash all at once, and everybody wondered how Mr. +Sneathy kept out of gaol.</p> + +<p>Keep out of gaol he did, however, for he had +taken care to remain on the safe side of the law, +though some of his co-directors learnt the taste +of penal servitude. But he was beggared, and +lived, as it were, a mere pensioner in his wife's +house. Here his brutality increased to a frightful +extent, till his wife, already broken in health in +consequence, went in constant fear of her life, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +Miss Foster passed a life of weeping misery. All +her friends' entreaties, however, could not persuade +Mrs. Sneathy to obtain a legal separation from +her husband. She clung to him with the excuse—for +it was no more—that she hoped to win him to +kindness by submission, and with a pathetic infatuation +that seemed to increase as her bodily strength +diminished.</p> + +<p>Henry and Robert, as may be supposed, were +anything but silent in these circumstances. Indeed, +they broke out violently again and again, and +more than once went near permanently injuring +their worthy father-in-law. Once especially, when +Sneathy, absolutely without provocation, made a +motion to strike his wife in their presence, there +was a fearful scene. The two sprang at him like +wild beasts, knocked him down and dragged him to +the balcony with the intention of throwing him out +of the window. But Mrs. Sneathy impeded them, +hysterically imploring them to desist.</p> + +<p>"If you lift your hand to my mother," roared +Henry, gripping Sneathy by the throat till his fat +face turned blue, and banging his head against the +wall, "if you lift your hand to my mother again I'll +chop it off—I will! I'll chop it off and drive it +down your throat!"</p> + +<p>"We'll do worse," said Robert, white and frantic +with passion, "we'll hang you—hang you to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +door! You're a proved liar and thief, and you're +worse than a common murderer. I'd hang you to +the front door for twopence!"</p> + +<p>For a few days Sneathy was comparatively quiet, +cowed by their violence. Then he took to venting +redoubled spite on his unfortunate wife, always in +the absence of her sons, well aware that she would +never inform them. On their part, finding him +apparently better behaved in consequence of their +attack, they thought to maintain his wholesome +terror, and scarcely passed him without a menace, +taking a fiendish delight in repeating the threats +they had used during the scene, by way of keeping +it present to his mind.</p> + +<p>"Take care of your hands, sir," they would say. +"Keep them to yourself, or, by George, we'll take +'em off with a billhook!"</p> + +<p>But his revenge for all this Sneathy took unobserved +on their mother. Truly a miserable +household.</p> + +<p>Soon, however, the brothers left home, and went +to London by way of looking for a profession. +Henry began a belated study of medicine, and +Robert made a pretence of reading for the bar. +Indeed, their departure was as much as anything a +consequence of the earnest entreaty of their sister, +who saw that their presence at home was an exasperation +to Sneathy, and aggravated her mother's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +secret sufferings. They went, therefore; but at +Ranworth things became worse.</p> + +<p>Little was allowed to be known outside the +house, but it was broadly said that Mr. Sneathy's +behaviour had now become outrageous beyond +description. Servants left faster than new ones +could be found, and gave their late employer the +character of a raving maniac. Once, indeed, he +committed himself in the village, attacking with +his walking-stick an inoffensive tradesman who +had accidentally brushed against him, and immediately +running home. This assault had to be compounded +for by a payment of fifty pounds. And +then Henry and Robert Foster received a most +urgent letter from their sister requesting their immediate +presence at home.</p> + +<p>They went at once, of course, and the servants' +account of what occurred was this. When the +brothers arrived Mr. Sneathy had just left the +house. The brothers were shut up with their +mother and sister for about a quarter of an hour, +and then left them and came out to the stable +yard together. The coachman (he was a new man, +who had only arrived the day before) overheard a +little of their talk as they stood by the door.</p> + +<p>Mr. Henry said that "the thing must be done, +and at once. There are two of us, so that it ought +to be easy enough." And afterwards Mr. Robert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +said, "You'll know best how to go about it, as a +doctor." After which Mr. Henry came towards +the coachman and asked in what direction Mr. +Sneathy had gone. The coachman replied that it +was in the direction of Ratherby Wood, by the +winding footpath that led through it. But as he +spoke he distinctly with the corner of his eye saw +the other brother take a halter from a hook by the +stable door and put it into his coat pocket.</p> + +<p>So far for the earlier events, whereof I learned +later bit by bit. It was on the day of the arrival +of the brothers Foster at their old home, and, +indeed, little more than two hours after the incident +last set down, that news of Mr. Sneathy +came to Colonel Brett's place, where Hewitt and +I were sitting and chatting with the Colonel. The +news was that Mr. Sneathy had committed suicide—had +been found hanging, in fact, to a tree in +Ratherby Wood, just by the side of the footpath.</p> + +<p>Hewitt and I had of course at this time never +heard of Sneathy, and the Colonel told us what +little he knew. He had never spoken to the man, +he said—indeed, nobody in the place outside Ranworth +would have anything to do with him. "He's +certainly been an unholy scoundrel over those poor +people's banks," said my uncle, "and if what they +say's true, he's been about as bad as possible to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +his wretched wife. He must have been pretty +miserable, too, with all his scoundrelism, for he was +a completely ruined man, without a chance of retrieving +his position, and detested by everybody. +Indeed, some of his recent doings, if what I have +heard is to be relied on, have been very much those +of a madman. So that, on the whole, I'm not much +surprised. Suicide's about the only crime, I suppose, +that he has never experimented with till now, +and, indeed, it's rather a service to the world at +large—his only service, I expect."</p> + +<p>The Colonel sent a man to make further inquiries, +and presently this man returned with the +news that now it was said that Mr. Sneathy had +not committed suicide, but had been murdered. +And hard on the man's heels came Mr. Hardwick, +a neighbour of my uncle's and a fellow J. P. He +had had the case reported to him, it seemed, as +soon as the body had been found, and had at once +gone to the spot. He had found the body hanging—<i>and +with the right hand cut off</i>.</p> + +<p>"It's a murder, Brett," he said, "without doubt—a +most horrible case of murder and mutilation. +The hand is cut off and taken away, but whether the +atrocity was committed before or after the hanging +of course I can't say. But the missing hand makes +it plainly a case of murder, and not suicide. I've +come to consult you about issuing a warrant, for I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +think there's no doubt as to the identity of the +murderers."</p> + +<p>"That's a good job," said the Colonel, "else we +should have had some work for Mr. Martin Hewitt +here, which wouldn't be fair, as he's taking a rest. +Whom do you think of having arrested?"</p> + +<p>"The two young Fosters. It's plain as it can +be—and a most revolting crime too, bad as Sneathy +may have been. They came down from London +to-day and went out deliberately to it, it's clear. +They were heard talking of it, asked as to the +direction in which he had gone, and followed him—and +with a rope."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that rather an unusual form of murder—hanging?" +Hewitt remarked.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is," Mr. Hardwick replied; "but it's +the case here plain enough. It seems, in fact, that +they had a way of threatening to hang him and +even to cut off his hand if he used it to strike +their mother. So that they appear to have carried +out what might have seemed mere idle threats in a +diabolically savage way. Of course they <i>may</i> have +strangled him first and hanged him after, by way +of carrying out their threat and venting their spite +on the mutilated body. But that they did it is plain +enough for me. I've spent an hour or two over it, +and feel I am certainly more than justified in ordering +their apprehension. Indeed, they were with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +him at the time, as I have found by their tracks on +the footpath through the wood."</p> + +<p>The Colonel turned to Martin Hewitt. "Mr. +Hardwick, you must know," he said, "is by way +of being an amateur in your particular line—and +a very good amateur, too, I should say, judging +by a case or two I have known in this +county."</p> + +<p>Hewitt bowed, and laughingly expressed a fear +lest Mr. Hardwick should come to London and supplant +him altogether. "This seems a curious case," +he added. "If you don't mind, I think I should like +to take a glance at the tracks and whatever other +traces there may be, just by way of keeping my +hand in."</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Mr. Hardwick replied, brightening. +"I should of all things like to have Mr. Hewitt's +opinions on the observations I have made—just for +my own gratification. As to his opinion—there can +be no room for doubt; the thing is plain."</p> + +<p>With many promises not to be late for dinner, +we left my uncle and walked with Mr. Hardwick in +the direction of Ratherby Wood. It was an unfrequented +part, he told us, and by particular care he +had managed, he hoped, to prevent the rumour +spreading to the village yet, so that we might hope +to find the trails not yet overlaid. It was a man of +his own, he said, who, making a short cut through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +the wood, had come upon the body hanging, and +had run immediately to inform him. With this man +he had gone back, cut down the body, and made his +observations. He had followed the trail backward +to Ranworth, and there had found the new coachman, +who had once been in his own service. From +him he had learned the doings of the brothers Foster +as they left the place, and from him he had ascertained +that they had not then returned. Then, leaving +his man by the body, he had come straight to +my uncle's.</p> + +<p>Presently we came on the footpath leading from +Ranworth across the field to Ratherby Wood. It +was a mere trail of bare earth worn by successive +feet amid the grass. It was damp, and we all +stooped and examined the footmarks that were to +be seen on it. They all pointed one way—towards +the wood in the distance.</p> + +<p>"Fortunately it's not a greatly frequented path," +Mr. Hardwick said. "You see, there are the marks +of three pairs of feet only, and as first Sneathy and +then both of the brothers came this way, these footmarks +must be theirs. Which are Sneathy's is plain—they +are these large flat ones. If you notice, they +are all distinctly visible in the centre of the track, +showing plainly that they belong to the man who +walked alone, which was Sneathy. Of the others, +the marks of the <i>outside</i> feet—the left on the left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +side and the right on the right—are often not visible. +Clearly they belong to two men walking side by side, +and more often than not treading, with their outer +feet, on the grass at the side. And where these happen +to drop on the same spot as the marks in the +middle they cover them. Plainly they are the footmarks +of Henry and Robert Foster, made as they +followed Sneathy. Don't you agree with me Mr. +Hewitt?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, that's very plain. You have a better +pair of eyes than most people, Mr. Hardwick, and a +good idea of using them, too. We will go into the +wood now. As a matter of fact I can pretty clearly +distinguish most of the other footmarks—those on +the grass; but that's a matter of much training."</p> + +<p>We followed the footpath, keeping on the grass +at its side, in case it should be desirable to refer +again to the foot-tracks. For some little distance +into the wood the tracks continued as before, those +of the brothers overlaying those of Sneathy. Then +there was a difference. The path here was broader +and muddy, because of the proximity of trees, +and suddenly the outer footprints separated, and +no more overlay the larger ones in the centre, but +proceeded at an equal distance on either side of +them.</p> + +<p>"See there," cried Mr. Hardwick, pointing +triumphantly to the spot, "this is where they over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>took +him, and walked on either side. The body was +found only a little farther on—you could see the +place now if the path didn't zigzag about so."</p> + +<p>Hewitt said nothing, but stooped and examined +the tracks at the sides with great care and evident +thought, spanning the distances between them +comparatively with his arms. Then he rose and +stepped lightly from one mark to another, taking +care not to tread on the mark itself. "Very good," +he said shortly on finishing his examination. "We'll +go on."</p> + +<p>We went on, and presently came to the place +where the body lay. Here the ground sloped from +the left down towards the right, and a tiny streamlet, +a mere trickle of a foot or two wide, ran across +the path. In rainy seasons it was probably wider, +for all the earth and clay had been washed away for +some feet on each side, leaving flat, bare and very +coarse gravel, on which the trail was lost. Just beyond +this, and to the left, the body lay on a grassy +knoll under the limb of a tree, from which still depended +a part of the cut rope. It was not a pleasant +sight. The man was a soft, fleshy creature, probably +rather under than over the medium height, and he +lay there, with his stretched neck and protruding +tongue, a revolting object. His right arm lay by +his side, and the stump of the wrist was clotted with +black blood. Mr. Hardwick's man was still in charge,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +seemingly little pleased with his job, and a few +yards off stood a couple of countrymen looking on.</p> + +<p>Hewitt asked from which direction these men +had come, and having ascertained and noticed their +footmarks, he asked them to stay exactly where they +were, to avoid confusing such other tracks as might +be seen. Then he addressed himself to his examination. +"<i>First</i>," he said, glancing up at the branch, +that was scarce a yard above his head, "this rope +has been here for some time."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mr. Hardwick replied, "it's an old swing +rope. Some children used it in the summer, but it +got partly cut away, and the odd couple of yards has +been hanging since."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Hewitt, "then if the Fosters did this +they were saved some trouble by the chance, and +were able to take their halter back with them—and +so avoid <i>one</i> chance of detection." He very closely +scrutinised the top of a tree stump, probably the +relic of a tree that had been cut down long before, +and then addressed himself to the body.</p> + +<p>"When you cut it down," he said, "did it fall in +a heap?"</p> + +<p>"No, my man eased it down to some extent."</p> + +<p>"Not on to its face?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no. On to its back, just as it is now." Mr. +Hardwick saw that Hewitt was looking at muddy +marks on each of the corpse's knees, to one of which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +a small leaf clung, and at one or two other marks of +the same sort on the fore part of the dress. "That +seems to show pretty plainly," he said, "that he +must have struggled with them and was thrown forward, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt did not reply, but gingerly lifted the right +arm by its sleeve. "Is either of the brothers Foster +left-handed?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I think not. Here, Bennett, you have seen +plenty of their doings—cricket, shooting, and so on—do +you remember if either is left-handed?"</p> + +<p>"Nayther, sir," Mr. Hardwick's man answered. +"Both on 'em's right-handed."</p> + +<p>Hewitt lifted the lapel of the coat and attentively +regarded a small rent in it. The dead man's +hat lay near, and after a few glances at that, Hewitt +dropped it and turned his attention to the hair. +This was coarse and dark and long, and brushed +straight back with no parting.</p> + +<p>"This doesn't look very symmetrical, does it?" +Hewitt remarked, pointing to the locks over the +right ear. They were shorter just there than on +the other side, and apparently very clumsily cut, +whereas in every other part the hair appeared to be +rather well and carefully trimmed. Mr. Hardwick +said nothing, but fidgeted a little, as though he considered +that valuable time was being wasted over +irrelevant trivialities.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently, however, he spoke. "There's very +little to be learned from the body, is there?" he +said. "I think I'm quite justified in ordering their +arrest, eh?—indeed, I've wasted too much time already."</p> + +<p>Hewitt was groping about among some bushes +behind the tree from which the corpse had been +taken. When he answered, he said, "I don't think +I should do anything of the sort just now, Mr. Hardwick. +As a matter of fact, I <i>fancy</i>"—this word with +an emphasis—"that the brothers Foster may not +have seen this man Sneathy at all to-day."</p> + +<p>"Not seen him? Why, my dear sir, there's no +question of it. It's certain, absolutely. The evidence +is positive. The fact of the threats and of +the body being found treated so is pretty well +enough, I should think. But that's nothing—look +at those footmarks. They've walked along with +him, one each side, without a possible doubt; plainly +they were the last people with him, in any case. +And you don't mean to ask anybody to believe +that the dead man, even if he hanged himself, cut +off his own hand first. Even if you do, where's +the hand? And even putting aside all these considerations, +each a complete case in itself, the Fosters +<i>must</i> at least have seen the body as they came +past, and yet nothing has been heard of them yet. +Why didn't they spread the alarm? They went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +straight away in the opposite direction from home—there +are their footmarks, which you've not seen +yet, beyond the gravel."</p> + +<p>Hewitt stepped over to where the patch of clean +gravel ceased, at the opposite side to that from +which we had approached the brook, and there, sure +enough, were the now familiar footmarks of the +brothers leading away from the scene of Sneathy's +end. "Yes," Hewitt said, "I see them. Of course, +Mr. Hardwick, you'll do what seems right in your +own eyes, and in any case not much harm will be +done by the arrest beyond a terrible fright for that +unfortunate family. Nevertheless, if you care for +my impression, it is, as I have said, that the Fosters +have not seen Sneathy to-day."</p> + +<p>"But what about the hand?"</p> + +<p>"As to that I have a conjecture, but as yet it is +only a conjecture, and if I told it you would probably +call it absurd—certainly you'd disregard it, and +perhaps quite excusably. The case is a complicated +one, and, if there is anything at all in my conjecture, +one of the most remarkable I have ever had to do +with. It interests me intensely, and I shall devote +a little time now to following up the theory I have +formed. You have, I suppose, already communicated +with the police?"</p> + +<p>"I wired to Shopperton at once, as soon as I +heard of the matter. It's a twelve miles drive, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +I wonder the police have not arrived yet. They +can't be long; I don't know where the village constable +has got to, but in any case <i>he</i> wouldn't be +much good. But as to your idea that the Fosters +can't be suspected—well, nobody could respect your +opinion, Mr. Hewitt, more than myself, but really, +just think. The notion's impossible—fiftyfold impossible. +As soon as the police arrive I shall have +that trail followed and the Fosters apprehended. I +should be a fool if I didn't."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Mr. Hardwick," Hewitt replied; +"you'll do what you consider your duty, of course, +and quite properly, though I <i>would</i> recommend you +to take another glance at those three trails in the +path. I shall take a look in this direction." And +he turned up by the side of the streamlet, keeping +on the gravel at its side.</p> + +<p>I followed. We climbed the rising ground, and +presently, among the trees, came to the place where +the little rill emerged from the broken ground in +the highest part of the wood. Here the clean +ground ceased, and there was a large patch of +wet clayey earth. Several marks left by the feet +of cattle were there, and one or two human footmarks. +Two of these (a pair), the newest and the +most distinct, Hewitt studied carefully, and measured +each direction.</p> + +<p>"Notice these marks," he said. "They may be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +of importance or they may not—that we shall see. +Fortunately they are very distinctive—the right +boot is a badly worn one, and a small tag of leather, +where the soul is damaged, is doubled over and +trodden into the soft earth. Nothing could be +luckier. Clearly they are the most recent footsteps +in this direction—from the main road, which +lies right ahead, through the rest of the wood."</p> + +<p>"Then you think somebody else has been on +the scene of the tragedy, beside the victim and the +brothers?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do. But hark; there is a vehicle in the +road. Can you see between the trees? Yes, it is +the police cart. We shall be able to report its +arrival to Mr. Hardwick as we go down."</p> + +<p>We turned and walked rapidly down the incline +to where we had come from. Mr. Hardwick and +his man were still there, and another rustic had +arrived to gape. We told Mr. Hardwick that he +might expect the police presently, and proceeded +along the gravel skirting the stream, toward the +lower part of the wood.</p> + +<p>Here Hewitt proceeded very cautiously, keeping +a sharp look-out on either side for footprints on +the neighbouring soft ground. There were none, +however, for the gravel margin of the stream made +a sort of footpath of itself, and the trees and undergrowth +were close and thick on each side. At the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +bottom we emerged from the wood on a small piece +of open ground skirting a lane, and here, just by the +side of the lane, where the stream fell into a trench, +Hewitt suddenly pounced on another footmark. He +was unusually excited.</p> + +<p>"See," he said, "here it is—the right foot with +its broken leather, and the corresponding left foot +on the damp edge of the lane itself. He—the man +with the broken shoe—has walked on the hard +gravel all the way down from the source of the +stream, and his is the only trail unaccounted for +near the body. Come, Brett, we've an adventure on +foot. Do you care to let your uncle's dinner go by +the board, and follow?"</p> + +<p>"Can't we go back and tell him?"</p> + +<p>"No—there's no time to lose; we must follow +up this man—or at least I must. You go or stay, +of course, as you think best."</p> + +<p>I hesitated a moment, picturing to myself the +excellent Colonel as he would appear after waiting +dinner an hour or two for us, but decided to go. +"At any rate," I said, "if the way lies along the +roads we shall probably meet somebody going in the +direction of Ratherby who will take a message. But +what is your theory? I don't understand at all. I +must say everything Hardwick said seemed to me to +be beyond question. There were the tracks to +prove that the three had walked together to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +spot, and that the brothers had gone on alone; and +every other circumstance pointed the same way. +Then, what possible motive could anybody else +about here have for such a crime? Unless, indeed, +it were one of the people defrauded by Sneathy's +late companies."</p> + +<p>"The motive," said Hewitt, "is, I fancy, a most +extraordinary—indeed, a weird one. A thing as of +centuries ago. Ask me no questions—I think you +will be a little surprised before very long. But +come, we must move." And we mended our pace +along the lane.</p> + +<p>The lane, by the bye, was hard and firm, with +scarcely a spot where a track might be left, except +in places at the sides; and at these places Hewitt +never gave a glance. At the end the lane turned +into a by-road, and at the turning Hewitt stopped +and scrutinised the ground closely. There was +nothing like a recognisable footmark to be seen; +but almost immediately Hewitt turned off to the +right, and we continued our brisk march without a +glance at the road.</p> + +<p>"How did you judge which way to turn then?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you see?" replied Hewitt; "I'll show +you at the next turning."</p> + +<p>Half a mile farther on the road forked, and here +Hewitt stooped and pointed silently to a couple of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +small twigs, placed crosswise, with the longer twig +of the two pointing down the branch of the road to +the left. We took the branch to the left, and went +on.</p> + +<p>"Our man's making a mistake," Hewitt observed. +"He leaves his friends' messages lying about for his +enemies to read."</p> + +<p>We hurried forward with scarcely a word. I was +almost too bewildered by what Hewitt had said and +done to formulate anything like a reasonable guess +as to what our expedition tended, or even to make +an effective inquiry—though, after what Hewitt had +said, I knew that would be useless. Who was this +mysterious man with the broken shoe? what had he +to do with the murder of Sneathy? what did the +mutilation mean? and who were his friends who left +him signs and messages by means of crossed twigs?</p> + +<p>We met a man, by whom I sent a short note +to my uncle, and soon after we turned into a main +road. Here again, at the corner, was the curious +message of twigs. A cart-wheel had passed over +and crushed them, but it had not so far displaced +them as to cause any doubt that the direction to +take was to the right. At an inn a little farther +along we entered, and Hewitt bought a pint of Irish +whisky and a flat bottle to hold it in, as well as a +loaf of bread and some cheese, which we carried +away wrapped in paper.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This will have to do for our dinner," Hewitt +said as we emerged.</p> + +<p>"But we're not going to drink a pint of common +whisky between us?" I asked in some astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," Hewitt answered with a +smile. "Perhaps we'll find somebody to help us—somebody +not so fastidious as yourself as to +quality."</p> + +<p>Now we hurried—hurried more than ever, for it +was beginning to get dusk, and Hewitt feared a difficulty +in finding and reading the twig signs in the +dark. Two more turnings we made, each with its +silent direction—the crossed twigs. To me there +was something almost weird and creepy in this curious +hunt for the invisible and incomprehensible, +guided faithfully and persistently at every turn by +this now unmistakable signal. After the second +turning we broke into a trot along a long, winding +lane, but presently Hewitt's hand fell on my shoulder, +and we stopped. He pointed ahead, where +some large object, round a bend of the hedge was +illuminated as though by a light from below.</p> + +<p>"We will walk now," Hewitt said. "Remember +that we are on a walking tour, and have come along +here entirely by accident."</p> + +<p>We proceeded at a swinging walk, Hewitt whistling +gaily. Soon we turned the bend, and saw that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +the large object was a travelling van drawn up with +two others on a space of grass by the side of the +lane. It was a gipsy encampment, the caravan having +apparently only lately stopped, for a man was +still engaged in tugging at the rope of a tent that +stood near the vans. Two or three sullen-looking +ruffians lay about a fire which burned in the space +left in the middle of the encampment. A woman +stood at the door of one van with a large kettle in +her hand, and at the foot of the steps below her a +more pleasant-looking old man sat on an inverted +pail. Hewitt swung towards the fire from the road, +and with an indescribable mixture of slouch, bow, +and smile addressed the company generally with +"<i>Kooshto bock, pals!</i>"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>The men on the ground took no notice, but continued +to stare doggedly before them. The man +working at the tent looked round quickly for a moment, +and the old man on the bucket looked up and +nodded.</p> + +<p>Quick to see the most likely friend, Hewitt at +once went up to the old man, extending his hand, +"<i>Sarshin, daddo?</i>" he said; "<i>Dell mandy tooty's +varst.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>The old man smiled and shook hands, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +without speaking. Then Hewitt proceeded, producing +the flat bottle of whisky, "<i>Tatty for pawny, +chals. Dell mandy the pawny, and lell posh the tatty.</i>"<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>The whisky did it. We were Romany ryes in +twenty minutes or less, and had already been taking +tea with the gipsies for half the time. The two or +three we had found about the fire were still reserved, +but these, I found, were only half-gipsies, +and understood very little Romany. One or two +others, however, including the old man, were of +purer breed, and talked freely, as did one of the +women. They were Lees, they said, and expected +to be on Wirksby racecourse in three days' time. +We, too, were <i>pirimengroes</i>, or travellers, Hewitt explained, +and might look to see them on the course.</p> + +<p>Then he fell to telling gipsy stories, and they to +telling others back, to my intense mystification. +Hewitt explained afterwards that they were mostly +stories of poaching, with now and again a horse-coping +anecdote thrown in. Since then I have +learned enough of Romany to take my part in such +a conversation, but at the time a word or two here +and there was all I could understand. In all this +talk the man we had first noticed stretching the tent-rope +took very little interest, but lay, with his head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +away from the fire, smoking his pipe. He was a +much darker man than any other present—had, in +fact, the appearance of a man of even a swarthier +race than that of the others about us.</p> + +<p>Presently, in the middle of a long and, of course, +to me unintelligible story by the old man, I caught +Hewitt's eye. He lifted one eyebrow almost imperceptibly, +and glanced for a single moment at his +walking-stick. Then I saw that it was pointed toward +the feet of the very dark man, who had not yet +spoken. One leg was thrown over the others as he +lay, with the soles of his shoes presented toward the +fire, and in its glare I saw—that the right sole was +worn and broken, and that a small triangular tag of +leather was doubled over beneath in just the place +we knew of from the prints in Ratherby Wood.</p> + +<p>I could not take my eyes off that man with his +broken shoe. There lay the secret, the whole mystery +of the fantastic crime in Ratherby Wood centred +in that shabby ruffian. What was it?</p> + +<p>But Hewitt went on, talking and joking furiously. +The men who were not speaking mostly smoked +gloomily, but whenever one spoke, he became animated +and lively. I had attempted once or twice to +join in, though my efforts were not particularly successful, +except in inducing one man to offer me tobacco +from his box—tobacco that almost made me +giddy in the smell. He tried some of mine in ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>change, +and though he praised it with native politeness, +and smoked the pipe through, I could see that +my Hignett mixture was poor stuff in his estimation, +compared with the awful tobacco in his own +box.</p> + +<p>Presently the man with the broken shoe got up, +slouched over to his tent, and disappeared. Then +said Hewitt (I translate):</p> + +<p>"You're not all Lees here, I see?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>pal</i>, all Lees."</p> + +<p>"But <i>he's</i> not a Lee?" and Hewitt jerked his +head towards the tent.</p> + +<p>"Why not a Lee, <i>pal</i>? We be Lees, and he is +with us. Thus he is a Lee."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, of course. But I know he is from over +the <i>pawny</i>. Come, I'll guess the <i>tem</i><a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> he comes +from—it's from Roumania, eh? Perhaps the Wallachian +part?"</p> + +<p>The men looked at one another, and then the old +Lee said:</p> + +<p>"You're right, pal. You're cleverer than we took +you for. That is what they calls his <i>tem</i>. He is a +petulengro,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>and he comes with us to shoe the <i>gries</i><a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> +and mend the <i>vardoes</i>.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> But he is with us, and so he +is a Lee."</p> + +<p>The talk and the smoke went on, and presently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +the man with the broken shoe returned, and lay +down again. Then, when the whisky had all gone, +and Hewitt, with some excuse that I did not understand, +had begged a piece of cord from one of the +men, we left in a chorus of <i>kooshto rardies</i>.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p>By this time it was nearly ten o'clock. We +walked briskly till we came back again to the inn +where we had bought the whisky. Here Hewitt, +after some little trouble, succeeded in hiring a village +cart, and while the driver was harnessing the +horse, cut a couple of short sticks from the hedge. +These, being each divided into two, made four short, +stout pieces of something less than six inches long +apiece. Then Hewitt joined them together in pairs, +each pair being connected from centre to centre by +about nine or ten inches of the cord he had brought +from the gipsies' camp. These done, he handed one +pair to me. "Handcuffs," he explained, "and no +bad ones either. See—you use them so." And he +passed the cord round my wrist, gripping the two +handles, and giving them a slight twist that sufficiently +convinced me of the excruciating pain that +might be inflicted by a vigorous turn, and the +utter helplessness of a prisoner thus secured in +the hands of captors prepared to use their instruments.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p><p>"Whom are these for?" I asked. "The man +with the broken shoe?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt nodded.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "I expect we shall find him out +alone about midnight. You know how to use these +now."</p> + +<p>It was fully eleven before the cart was ready +and we started. A quarter of a mile or so from +the gipsy encampment Hewitt stopped the cart and +gave the driver instructions to wait. We got +through the hedge, and made our way on the soft +ground behind it in the direction of the vans and +the tent.</p> + +<p>"Roll up your handkerchief," Hewitt whispered, +"into a tight pad. The moment I grab him, ram +it into his mouth—<i>well</i> in, mind, so that it doesn't +easily fall out. Probably he will be stooping—that +will make it easier; we can pull him suddenly backward. +Now be quiet."</p> + +<p>We kept on till nothing but the hedge divided +us from the space whereon stood the encampment. +It was now nearer twelve o'clock than eleven, but +the time we waited seemed endless. But time is +not eternity after all, and at last we heard a move +in the tent. A minute after, the man we sought was +standing before us. He made straight for a gap in +the hedge which we had passed on our way, and we +crouched low and waited. He emerged on our side<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +of the hedge with his back towards us, and began +walking, as we had walked, behind the hedge, but +in the opposite direction. We followed.</p> + +<p>He carried something in his hand that looked +like a large bundle of sticks and twigs, and he +appeared to be as anxious to be secret as we +ourselves. From time to time he stopped and +listened; fortunately there was no moon, or in +turning about, as he did once or twice, he would +probably have observed us. The field sloped +downward just before us, and there was another +hedge at right angles, leading down to a slight +hollow. To this hollow the man made his way, +and in the shade of the new hedge we followed. +Presently he stopped suddenly, stooped, and deposited +his bundle on the ground before him. +Crouching before it, he produced matches from his +pocket, struck one, and in a moment had a fire +of twigs and small branches, that sent up a heavy +white smoke. What all this portended I could not +imagine, but a sense of the weirdness of the whole +adventure came upon me unchecked. The horrible +corpse in the wood, with its severed wrist, Hewitt's +enigmatical forebodings, the mysterious tracking +of the man with the broken shoe, the scene round +the gipsies' fire, and now the strange behaviour of +this man, whose connection with the tragedy was so +intimate and yet so inexplicable—all these things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +contributed to make up a tale of but a few hours' +duration, but of an inscrutable impressiveness that +I began to feel in my nerves.</p> + +<p>The man bent a thin stick double, and using +it as a pair of tongs, held some indistinguishable +object over the flames before him. Excited as I +was, I could not help noticing that he bent and +held the stick with his left hand. We crept stealthily +nearer, and as I stood scarcely three yards +behind him and looked over his shoulder, the +form of the object stood out clear and black +against the dull red of the flame. It was a <i>human +hand</i>.</p> + +<p>I suppose I may have somehow betrayed my +amazement and horror to my companion's sharp +eyes, for suddenly I felt his hand tightly grip my +arm just above the elbow. I turned, and found +his face close by mine and his finger raised warningly. +Then I saw him produce his wrist-grip and +make a motion with his palm toward his mouth, +which I understood to be intended to remind me +of the gag. We stepped forward.</p> + +<p>The man turned his horrible cookery over and +over above the crackling sticks, as though to smoke +and dry it in every part. I saw Hewitt's hand +reach out toward him, and in a flash we had pulled +him back over his heels and I had driven the gag +between his teeth as he opened his mouth. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +seized his wrists in the cords at once, and I shall +never forget the man's look of ghastly, frantic +terror as he lay on the ground. When I knew +more I understood the reason of this.</p> + +<p>Hewitt took both wristholds in one hand and +drove the gag entirely into the man's mouth, so +that he almost choked. A piece of sacking lay +near the fire, and by Hewitt's request I dropped +that awful hand from the wooden twigs upon it +and rolled it up in a parcel—it was, no doubt, +what the sacking had been brought for. Then +we lifted the man to his feet and hurried him +in the direction of the cart. The whole capture +could not have occupied thirty seconds, and as +I stumbled over the rough field at the man's +left elbow I could only think of the thing as +one thinks of a dream that one knows all the time +<i>is</i> a dream.</p> + +<p>But presently the man, who had been walking +quietly, though gasping, sniffing and choking because +of the tightly rolled handkerchief in his +mouth—presently he made a sudden dive, thinking +doubtless to get his wrists free by surprise. But +Hewitt was alert, and gave them a twist that +made him roll his head with a dismal, stifled yell, +and with the opening of his mouth, by some chance +the gag fell away. Immediately the man roared +aloud for help.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quick," said Hewitt, "drag him along—they'll +hear in the vans. Bring the hand!"</p> + +<p>I seized the fallen handkerchief and crammed +it over the man's mouth as well as I might, and +together we made as much of a trot as we could, +dragging the man between us, while Hewitt checked +any reluctance on his part by a timely wrench of +the wristholds. It was a hard two hundred and +fifty yards to the lane even for us—for the gipsy +it must have been a bad minute and a half indeed. +Once more as we went over the uneven ground he +managed to get out a shout, and we thought we +heard a distinct reply from somewhere in the +direction of the encampment.</p> + +<p>We pulled him over a stile in a tangle; and +dragged and pushed him through a small hedge-gap +all in a heap. Here we were but a short distance +from the cart, and into that we flung him without +wasting time or tenderness, to the intense consternation +of the driver, who, I believe, very nearly set up +a cry for help on his own account. Once in the +cart, however, I seized the reins and the whip myself +and, leaving Hewitt to take care of the prisoner, +put the turn-out along toward Ratherby at as near +ten miles an hour as it could go.</p> + +<p>We made first for Mr. Hardwick's, but he, we +found, was with my uncle, so we followed him. The +arrest of the Fosters had been effected, we learned,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +not very long after we had left the wood, as they +returned by another route to Ranworth. We +brought our prisoner into the Colonel's library, +where he and Mr. Hardwick were sitting.</p> + +<p>"I'm not quite sure what we can charge him +with unless it's anatomical robbery," Hewitt remarked, +"but here's the criminal."</p> + +<p>The man only looked down, with a sulkily impenetrable +countenance. Hewitt spoke to him +once or twice, and at last he said, in a strange +accent, something that sounded like "<i>kekin jin-navvy.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Keck jin?</i>"<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> asked Hewitt, in the loud, clear +tone one instinctively adopts in talking to a foreigner, +"<i>Keckeno jinny?</i>"</p> + +<p>The man understood and shook his head, but not +another word would he say or another question +answer.</p> + +<p>"He's a foreign gipsy," Hewitt explained, "just +as I thought—a Wallachian, in fact. Theirs is an +older and purer dialect than that of the English +gipsies, and only some of the root-words are alike. +But I think we can make him explain to-morrow +that the Fosters at least had nothing to do with, at +any rate, cutting off Sneathy's hand. Here it is, I +think." And he gingerly lifted the folds of sacking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +from the ghastly object as it lay on the table, and +then covered it up again.</p> + +<p>"But what—what does it all mean?" Mr. +Hardwick said in bewildered astonishment. "Do +you mean this man was an accomplice?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all—the case was one of suicide, as I +think you'll agree, when I've explained. This man +simply found the body hanging and stole the hand."</p> + +<p>"But what in the world for?"</p> + +<p>"For the <span class="smcap">Hand of Glory</span>. Eh?" He turned +to the gipsy and pointed to the hand on the table: +"<i>Yag-varst</i>,<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> eh?"</p> + +<p>There was a quick gleam of intelligence in the +man's eye, but he said nothing. As for myself I was +more than astounded. Could it be possible that the +old superstition of the Hand of Glory remained alive +in a practical shape at this day?</p> + +<p>"You know the superstition, of course," Hewitt +said. "It did exist in this country in the last century, +when there were plenty of dead men hanging +at cross-roads, and so on. On the Continent, in +some places, it has survived later. Among the +Wallachian gipsies it has always been a great article +of belief, and the superstition is quite active still. +The belief is that the right hand of a hanged man, +cut off and dried over the smoke of certain wood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +and herbs, and then provided with wicks at each +finger made of the dead man's hair, becomes, when +lighted at each wick (the wicks are greased, of +course), a charm, whereby a thief may walk without +hinderance where he pleases in a strange house, push +open all doors and take what he likes. Nobody can +stop him, for everybody the Hand of Glory approaches +is made helpless, and can neither move nor +speak. You may remember there was some talk of +'thieves' candles' in connection with the horrible +series of Whitechapel murders not long ago. That +is only one form of the cult of the Hand of Glory."</p> + +<p>"Yes," my uncle said, "I remember reading so. +There is a story about it in the Ingoldsby Legends, +too, I believe."</p> + +<p>"There is—it is called 'The Hand of Glory,' in +fact. You remember the spell, 'Open lock to the +dead man's knock,' and so on. But I think you'd +better have the constable up and get this man into +safe quarters for the night. He should be searched, +of course. I expect they will find on him the hair I +noticed to have been cut from Sneathy's head."</p> + +<p>The village constable arrived with his iron handcuffs +in substitution for those of cord which had so +sorely vexed the wrists of our prisoner, and marched +him away to the little lock-up on the green.</p> + +<p>Then my uncle and Mr. Hardwick turned on +Martin Hewitt with doubts and many questions:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why do you call it suicide?" Mr. Hardwick +asked. "It is plain the Fosters were with him at +the time from the tracks. Do you mean to say that +they stood there and watched Sneathy hang himself +without interfering?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," Hewitt replied, lighting a cigar. +"I think I told you that they never saw Sneathy."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you did, and of course that's what they +said themselves when they were arrested. But the +thing's impossible. Look at the tracks!"</p> + +<p>"The tracks are exactly what revealed to me +that it was <i>not</i> impossible," Hewitt returned. "I'll +tell you how the case unfolded itself to me from the +beginning. As to the information you gathered +from the Ranworth coachman, to begin with. The +conversation between the Fosters which he overheard +might well mean something less serious than +murder. What did they say? They had been sent +for in a hurry and had just had a short consultation +with their mother and sister. Henry said that 'the +thing must be done at once'; also that as there +were two of them it should be easy. Robert said +that Henry, as a doctor, would know best what +to do.</p> + +<p>"Now you, Colonel Brett, had been saying—before +we learned these things from Mr. Hardwick—that +Sneathy's behaviour of late had become so bad +as to seem that of a madman. Then there was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +story of his sudden attack on a tradesman in the +village, and equally sudden running away—exactly +the sort of impulsive, wild thing that madmen do. +Why then might it not be reasonable to suppose +that Sneathy <i>had</i> become mad—more especially considering +all the circumstances of the case, his commercial +ruin and disgrace and his horrible life with +his wife and her family?—had become suddenly +much worse and quite uncontrollable, so that the +two wretched women left alone with him were driven +to send in haste for Henry and Robert to help them? +That would account for all.</p> + +<p>"The brothers arrive just after Sneathy had +gone out. They are told in a hurried interview how +affairs stand, and it is decided that Sneathy must be +at once secured and confined in an asylum before +something serious happens. He has just gone out—something +terrible may be happening at this moment. +The brothers determine to follow at once +and secure him wherever he may be. Then the +meaning of their conversation is plain. The thing +that 'must be done, and at once,' is the capture of +Sneathy and his confinement in an asylum. Henry, +as a doctor, would 'know what to do' in regard to +the necessary formalities. And they took a halter +in case a struggle should ensue and it were +found necessary to bind him. Very likely, wasn't +it?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, yes," Mr. Hardwick replied, "it certainly +is. It never struck me in that light at all."</p> + +<p>"That was because you believed, to begin with, +that a murder had been committed, and looked at +the preliminary circumstances which you learned +after in the light of your conviction. But now, to +come to my actual observations. I saw the footmarks +across the fields, and agreed with you (it was +indeed obvious) that Sneathy had gone that way +first, and that the brothers had followed, walking +over his tracks. This state of the tracks continued +until well into the wood, when suddenly the tracks +of the brothers opened out and proceeded on each +side of Sneathy's. The simple inference would seem +to be, of course, the one you made—that the Fosters +had here overtaken Sneathy, and walked one at each +side of him.</p> + +<p>"But of this I felt by no means certain. Another +very simple explanation was available, which +might chance to be the true one. It was just at +the spot where the brothers' tracks separated that +the path became suddenly much muddier, because +of the closer overhanging of the trees at the +spot. The path was, as was to be expected, wettest +in the middle. It would be the most natural thing +in the world for two well-dressed young men, on +arriving here, to separate so as to walk one on each +side of the mud in the middle.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>"On the other hand, a man in Sneathy's state +(assuming him, for the moment, to be mad and contemplating +suicide) would walk straight along the +centre of the path, taking no note of mud or anything +else. I examined all the tracks very carefully, +and my theory was confirmed. The feet of the +brothers had everywhere alighted in the driest +spots, and the steps were of irregular lengths—which +meant, of course, that they were picking +their way; while Sneathy's footmarks had never +turned aside even for the dirtiest puddle. Here, +then, were the rudiments of a theory.</p> + +<p>"At the watercourse, of course, the footmarks +ceased, because of the hard gravel. The body lay +on a knoll at the left—a knoll covered with grass. +On this the signs of footmarks were almost undiscoverable, +although I am often able to discover +tracks in grass that are invisible to others. +Here, however, it was almost useless to spend much +time in examination, for you and your man had been +there, and what slight marks there might be would +be indistinguishable one from another.</p> + +<p>"Under the branch from which the man had +hung there was an old tree stump, with a flat top, +where the tree had been sawn off. I examined this, +and it became fairly apparent that Sneathy had +stood on it when the rope was about his neck—his +muddy footprint was plain to see; the mud was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +not smeared about, you see, as it probably would +have been if he had been stood there forcibly and +pushed off. It was a simple, clear footprint—another +hint at suicide.</p> + +<p>"But then arose the objection that you mentioned +yourself. Plainly the brothers Foster were +following Sneathy, and came this way. Therefore, +if he hanged himself before they arrived, it would +seem that they must have come across the body. +But now I examined the body itself. There +was mud on the knees, and clinging to one knee +was a small leaf. It was a leaf corresponding to +those on the bush behind the tree, and it was not a +dead leaf, so must have been just detached.</p> + +<p>"After my examination of the body I went to +the bush, and there, in the thick of it, were, for me, +sufficiently distinct knee-marks, in one of which the +knee had crushed a spray of the bush against the +ground, and from that spray a leaf was missing. +Behind the knee-marks were the indentations of +boot-toes in the soft, bare earth under the bush, +and thus the thing was plain. The poor lunatic +had come in sight of the dangling rope, and the +temptation to suicide was irresistible. To people +in a deranged state of mind the mere sight of the +means of self-destruction is often a temptation +impossible to withstand. But at that moment he +must have heard the steps—probably the voices<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>—of +the brothers behind him on the winding path. +He immediately hid in the bush till they had passed. +It is probable that seeing who the men were, and +conjecturing that they were following him—thinking +also, perhaps, of things that had occurred between +them and himself—his inclination to self-destruction +became completely ungovernable, with the result +that you saw.</p> + +<p>"But before I inspected the bush I noticed one +or two more things about the body. You remember +I inquired if either of the brothers Foster was +left-handed, and was assured that neither was. But +clearly the hand had been cut off by a left-handed +man, with a large, sharply pointed knife. For well +away to the <i>right</i> of where the wrist had hung the +knife-point had made a tiny triangular rent in the +coat, so that the hand must have been held in the +mutilator's right hand, while he used the knife with +his left—clearly a left-handed man.</p> + +<p>"But most important of all about the body was +the jagged hair over the right ear. Everywhere +else the hair was well cut and orderly—here it +seemed as though a good piece had been, so to +speak, <i>sawn</i> off. What could anybody want with a +dead man's right hand and certain locks of his +hair? Then it struck me suddenly—the man was +hanged; it was the Hand of Glory!</p> + +<p>"Then you will remember I went, at your re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>quest, +to see the footprints of the Fosters on the +part of the path <i>past</i> the watercourse. Here again +it was muddy in the middle, and the two brothers +had walked as far apart as before, although nobody +had walked between them. A final proof, if one +were needed, of my theory as to the three lines of +footprints.</p> + +<p>"Now I was to consider how to get at the man +who had taken his hand. He should be punished +for the mutilation, but beyond that he would be +required as a witness. Now all the foot-tracks in +the vicinity had been accounted for. There were +those of the brothers and of Sneathy, which we have +been speaking of; those of the rustics looking on, +which, however, stopped a little way off, and did +not interfere with our sphere of observation; those +of your man, who had cut straight through the +wood when he first saw the body, and had come +back the same way with you; and our own, which +we had been careful to keep away from the others. +Consequently there was <i>no</i> track of the man who +had cut off the hand; therefore it was certain that +he must have come along the hard gravel by the +watercourse, for that was the only possible path +which would not tell the tale. Indeed, it seemed +quite a likely path through the wood for a passenger +to take, coming from the high ground by the Shopperton +road.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Brett and I left you and traversed the watercourse, +both up and down. We found a footprint +at the top, left lately by a man with a broken shoe. +Right down to the bottom of the watercourse where +it emerged from the wood there was no sign on +either side of this man having left the gravel. +(Where the body was, as you will remember, he +would simply have stepped off the gravel on to the +grass, which I thought it useless to examine, as I +have explained.) But at the bottom, by the lane, the +footprint appeared again.</p> + +<p>"This then was the direction in which I was to +search for a left-handed man with a broken-soled +shoe, probably a gipsy—and most probably a foreign +gipsy—because a foreign gipsy would be the most +likely still to hold the belief in the Hand of Glory. +I conjectured the man to be a straggler from a band +of gipsies—one who probably had got behind the +caravan and had made a short cut across the wood +after it; so at the end of the lane I looked for a +<i>patrin</i>. This is a sign that gipsies leave to guide +stragglers following up. Sometimes it is a heap of +dead leaves, sometimes a few stones, sometimes a +mark on the ground, but more usually a couple of +twigs crossed, with the longer twig pointing the +road.</p> + +<p>"Guided by these <i>patrins</i> we came in the end on +the gipsy camp just as it was settling down for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +night. We made ourselves agreeable (as Brett will +probably describe to you better than I can), we left +them, and after they had got to sleep we came +back and watched for the gentleman who is now +in the lock-up. He would, of course, seize the +first opportunity of treating his ghastly trophy +in the prescribed way, and I guessed he would +choose midnight, for that is the time the superstition +teaches that the hand should be prepared. +We made a few small preparations, collared him, +and now you've got him. And I should think +the sooner you let the brothers Foster go the +better."</p> + +<p>"But why didn't you tell me all the conclusions +you had arrived at at the time?" asked Mr. Hardwick.</p> + +<p>"Well, really," Hewitt replied, with a quiet +smile, "you were so positive, and some of the +traces I relied on were so small, that it would +probably have meant a long argument and a loss +of time. But more than that, confess, if I had +told you bluntly that Sneathy's hand had been +taken away to make a mediæval charm to enable +a thief to pass through a locked door and steal +plate calmly under the owner's nose, what <i>would</i> you +have said?"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, perhaps I <i>should</i> have been a little +sceptical. Appearances combined so completely to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +point to the Fosters as murderers that any other +explanation almost would have seemed unlikely to +me, and <i>that</i>—well no, I confess, I shouldn't have +believed in it. But it is a startling thing to find +such superstitions alive now-a-days."</p> + +<p>"Yes, perhaps it is. Yet we find survivals of the +sort very frequently. The Wallachians, however, +are horribly superstitious still—the gipsies among +them are, of course, worse. Don't you remember +the case reported a few months ago, in which a child +was drowned as a sacrifice in Wallachia in order to +bring rain? And that was not done by gipsies +either. Even in England, as late as 1865, a poor +paralysed Frenchman was killed by being 'swum' +for witchcraft—that was in Essex. And less atrocious +cases of belief in wizardry occur again and +again even now."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Hardwick and my uncle fell into a +discussion as to how the gipsy in the lock-up could +be legally punished. Mr. Hardwick thought it +should be treated as a theft of a portion of a dead +body, but my uncle fancied there was a penalty for +mutilation of a dead body <i>per se</i>, though he could +not point to the statute. As it happened, however, +they were saved the trouble of arriving at a decision, +for in the morning he was discovered to have +escaped. He had been left, of course, with free +hands, and had occupied the night in wrenching out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +the bars at the top of the back wall of the little +prison-shed (it had stood on the green for a hundred +and fifty years) and climbing out. He was not +found again, and a month or two later the Foster +family left the district entirely.</p> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> "Good luck, brothers!"</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> "How do you do, father? Give me your hand."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> "Spirits for water, lads. Give me the water and take your +share of the spirits."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Country.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Smith.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Horses.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Vans.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Good-night.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> "Not understand?"</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Fire-hand.</p></div> + +<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_CASE_OF_LAKER_ABSCONDED" id="THE_CASE_OF_LAKER_ABSCONDED"></a>THE CASE OF LAKER, ABSCONDED.</h2> + + +<p>There were several of the larger London banks +and insurance offices from which Hewitt held a sort +of general retainer as detective adviser, in fulfilment +of which he was regularly consulted as to the +measures to be taken in different cases of fraud, +forgery, theft, and so forth, which it might be the +misfortune of the particular firms to encounter. +The more important and intricate of these cases +were placed in his hands entirely, with separate +commissions, in the usual way. One of the most +important companies of the sort was the General +Guarantee Society, an insurance corporation which, +among other risks, took those of the integrity of +secretaries, clerks, and cashiers. In the case of a +cash-box elopement on the part of any person +guaranteed by the society, the directors were naturally +anxious for a speedy capture of the culprit, +and more especially of the booty, before too much +of it was spent, in order to lighten the claim upon +their funds, and in work of this sort Hewitt was at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +times engaged, either in general advice and direction, +or in the actual pursuit of the plunder and the +plunderer.</p> + +<p>Arriving at his office a little later than usual one +morning, Hewitt found an urgent message awaiting +him from the General Guarantee Society, requesting +his attention to a robbery which had taken place on +the previous day. He had gleaned some hint of the +case from the morning paper, wherein appeared a +short paragraph, which ran thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Serious Bank Robbery.</span>—In the course of yesterday +a clerk employed by Messrs. Liddle, Neal & +Liddle, the well-known bankers, disappeared, having +in his possession a large sum of money, the property +of his employers—a sum reported to be rather over +£15,000. It would seem that he had been entrusted +to collect the money in his capacity of "walk-clerk" +from various other banks and trading concerns +during the morning, but failed to return at the +usual time. A large number of the notes which he +received had been cashed at the Bank of England +before suspicion was aroused. We understand that +Detective-Inspector Plummer, of Scotland Yard, has +the case in hand.</p></div> + +<p>The clerk, whose name was Charles William +Laker, had, it appeared from the message, been +guaranteed in the usual way by the General +Guarantee Society, and Hewitt's presence at the +office was at once desired, in order that steps might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +quickly be taken for the man's apprehension, and in +the recovery, at any rate, of as much of the booty +as possible.</p> + +<p>A smart hansom brought Hewitt to Threadneedle +Street in a bare quarter of an hour, and there +a few minutes' talk with the manager, Mr. Lyster, +put him in possession of the main facts of the case, +which appeared to be simple. Charles William Laker +was twenty-five years of age, and had been in the +employ of Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle for something +more than seven years—since he left school, +in fact—and until the previous day there had been +nothing in his conduct to complain of. His duties +as walk-clerk consisted in making a certain round, +beginning at about half-past ten each morning. +There were a certain number of the more important +banks between which and Messrs. Liddle, Neal & +Liddle there were daily transactions, and a few +smaller semi-private banks and merchant firms acting +as financial agents, with whom there was business +intercourse of less importance and regularity; +and each of these, as necessary, he visited in turn, +collecting cash due on bills and other instruments of +a like nature. He carried a wallet, fastened securely +to his person by a chain, and this wallet contained +the bills and the cash. Usually at the end of his +round, when all his bills had been converted into +cash, the wallet held very large sums. His work<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +and responsibilities, in fine, were those common to +walk-clerks in all banks.</p> + +<p>On the day of the robbery he had started out as +usual—possibly a little earlier than was customary—and +the bills and other securities in his possession +represented considerably more than £15,000. It +had been ascertained that he had called in the usual +way at each establishment on the round, and had +transacted his business at the last place by about a +quarter-past one, being then, without doubt, in possession +of cash to the full value of the bills negotiated. +After that, Mr. Lyster said, yesterday's report +was that nothing more had been heard of him. +But this morning there had been a message to the +effect that he had been traced out of the country—to +Calais, at least, it was thought. The directors of +the society wished Hewitt to take the case in hand +personally and at once, with a view of recovering +what was possible from the plunder by way of salvage; +also, of course, of finding Laker, for it is an +important moral gain to guarantee societies, as an +example, if a thief is caught and punished. Therefore +Hewitt and Mr. Lyster, as soon as might be, +made for Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle's, that the +investigation might be begun.</p> + +<p>The bank premises were quite near—in Leadenhall +Street. Having arrived there, Hewitt and Mr. +Lyster made their way to the firm's private rooms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +As they were passing an outer waiting-room, Hewitt +noticed two women. One, the elder, in widow's weeds, +was sitting with her head bowed in her hand over a +small writing-table. Her face was not visible, but +her whole attitude was that of a person overcome +with unbearable grief; and she sobbed quietly. The +other was a young woman of twenty-two or twenty-three. +Her thick black veil revealed no more than +that her features were small and regular, and that +her face was pale and drawn. She stood with a +hand on the elder woman's shoulder, and she quickly +turned her head away as the two men entered.</p> + +<p>Mr. Neal, one of the partners, received them in +his own room. "Good-morning, Mr. Hewitt," he +said, when Mr. Lyster had introduced the detective. +"This is a serious business—very. I think I am +sorrier for Laker himself than for anybody else, ourselves +included—or, at any rate, I am sorrier for his +mother. She is waiting now to see Mr. Liddle, as +soon as he arrives—Mr. Liddle has known the family +for a long time. Miss Shaw is with her, too, poor +girl. She is a governess, or something of that sort, +and I believe she and Laker were engaged to be +married. It's all very sad."</p> + +<p>"Inspector Plummer, I understand," Hewitt remarked, +"has the affair in hand, on behalf of the +police?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Mr. Neal replied; "in fact, he's here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +now, going through the contents of Laker's desk, +and so forth; he thinks it possible Laker may have +had accomplices. Will you see him?"</p> + +<p>"Presently. Inspector Plummer and I are old +friends. We met last, I think, in the case of the +Stanway cameo, some months ago. But, first, will +you tell me how long Laker has been a walk-clerk?"</p> + +<p>"Barely four months, although he has been with +us altogether seven years. He was promoted to the +walk soon after the beginning of the year."</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything of his habits—what he +used to do in his spare time, and so forth?"</p> + +<p>"Not a great deal. He went in for boating, I +believe, though I have heard it whispered that he +had one or two more expensive tastes—expensive, +that is, for a young man in his position," Mr. Neal +explained, with a dignified wave of the hand that he +peculiarly affected. He was a stout old gentleman, +and the gesture suited him.</p> + +<p>"You have had no reason to suspect him of dishonesty +before, I take it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. He made a wrong return once, I believe, +that went for some time undetected, but it +turned out, after all, to be a clerical error—a mere +clerical error."</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything of his associates out of +the office?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, how should I? I believe Inspector Plummer +has been making inquiries as to that, however, +of the other clerks. Here he is, by the bye, I expect. +Come in!"</p> + +<p>It was Plummer who had knocked, and he came +in at Mr. Neal's call. He was a middle-sized, small-eyed, +impenetrable-looking man, as yet of no great +reputation in the force. Some of my readers may +remember his connection with that case, so long a +public mystery, that I have elsewhere fully set forth +and explained under the title of "The Stanway +Cameo Mystery." Plummer carried his billy-cock +hat in one hand and a few papers in the other. +He gave Hewitt good-morning, placed his hat on a +chair, and spread the papers on the table.</p> + +<p>"There's not a great deal here," he said, "but +one thing's plain—Laker had been betting. See +here, and here, and here"—he took a few letters +from the bundle in his hand—"two letters from a +bookmaker about settling—wonder he trusted a +clerk—several telegrams from tipsters, and a letter +from some friend—only signed by initials—asking +Laker to put a sovereign on a horse for the friend +'with his own.' I'll keep these, I think. It may +be worth while to see that friend, if we can find +him. Ah, we often find it's betting, don't we, +Mr. Hewitt? Meanwhile, there's no news from +France yet."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are sure that is where he is gone?" asked +Hewitt.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll tell you what we've done as yet. +First, of course, I went round to all the banks. +There was nothing to be got from that. The +cashiers all knew him by sight, and one was a +personal friend of his. He had called as usual, +said nothing in particular, cashed his bills in the +ordinary way, and finished up at the Eastern +Consolidated Bank at about a quarter-past one. +So far there was nothing whatever. But I had +started two or three men meanwhile making inquiries +at the railway stations, and so on. I had +scarcely left the Eastern Consolidated when one of +them came after me with news. He had tried Palmer's +Tourist Office, although that seemed an unlikely +place, and there struck the track."</p> + +<p>"Had he been there?"</p> + +<p>"Not only had he been there, but he had taken +a tourist ticket for France. It was quite a smart +move, in a way. You see it was the sort of +ticket that lets you do pretty well what you like; +you have the choice of two or three different routes +to begin with, and you can break your journey +where you please, and make all sorts of variations. +So that a man with a ticket like that, and a few +hours' start, could twist about on some remote +branch route, and strike off in another direction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +altogether, with a new ticket, from some out-of-the-way +place, while we were carefully sorting out and +inquiring along the different routes he <i>might</i> have +taken. Not half a bad move for a new hand; but +he made one bad mistake, as new hands always do—as +old hands do, in fact, very often. He was +fool enough to give his own name, C. Laker! +Although that didn't matter much, as the description +was enough to fix him. There he was, wallet +and all, just as he had come from the Eastern +Consolidated Bank. He went straight from there +to Palmer's, by the bye, and probably in a cab. +We judge that by the time. He left the Eastern +Consolidated at a quarter-past one, and was at +Palmer's by twenty-five-past—ten minutes. The +clerk at Palmer's remembered the time because he +was anxious to get out to his lunch, and kept looking +at the clock, expecting another clerk in to +relieve him. Laker didn't take much in the way +of luggage, I fancy. We inquired carefully at the +stations, and got the porters to remember the passengers +for whom they had been carrying luggage, +but none appeared to have had any dealings with +our man. That, of course, is as one would expect. +He'd take as little as possible with him, and buy +what he wanted on the way, or when he'd reached +his hiding-place. Of course, I wired to Calais (it +was a Dover to Calais route ticket) and sent a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +couple of smart men off by the 8.15 mail from +Charing Cross. I expect we shall hear from them +in the course of the day. I am being kept in London +in view of something expected at headquarters, +or I should have been off myself."</p> + +<p>"That is all, then, up to the present? Have you +anything else in view?"</p> + +<p>"That's all I've absolutely ascertained at present. +As for what I'm going to do"—a slight +smile curled Plummer's lip—"well, I shall see. +I've a thing or two in my mind."</p> + +<p>Hewitt smiled slightly himself; he recognised +Plummer's touch of professional jealousy. "Very +well," he said, rising, "I'll make an inquiry or +two for myself at once. Perhaps, Mr. Neal, you'll +allow one of your clerks to show me the banks, in +their regular order, at which Laker called yesterday. +I think I'll begin at the beginning."</p> + +<p>Mr. Neal offered to place at Hewitt's disposal +anything or anybody the bank contained, and the +conference broke up. As Hewitt, with the clerk, +came through the rooms separating Mr. Neal's sanctum +from the outer office, he fancied he saw the two +veiled women leaving by a side door.</p> + +<p>The first bank was quite close to Liddle, Neal & +Liddle's. There the cashier who had dealt with +Laker the day before remembered nothing in particular +about the interview. Many other walk-clerks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +had called during the morning, as they did every +morning, and the only circumstances of the visit +that he could say anything definite about were those +recorded in figures in the books. He did not know +Laker's name till Plummer had mentioned it in making +inquiries on the previous afternoon. As far as +he could remember, Laker behaved much as usual, +though really he did not notice much; he looked +chiefly at the bills. He described Laker in a way +that corresponded with the photograph that Hewitt +had borrowed from the bank; a young man with a +brown moustache and ordinary-looking, fairly regular +face, dressing much as other clerks dressed—tall hat, +black cutaway coat, and so on. The numbers of the +notes handed over had already been given to Inspector +Plummer, and these Hewitt did not trouble about.</p> + +<p>The next bank was in Cornhill, and here the +cashier was a personal friend of Laker's—at any +rate, an acquaintance—and he remembered a little +more. Laker's manner had been quite as usual, he +said; certainly he did not seem preoccupied or excited +in his manner. He spoke for a moment or +two—of being on the river on Sunday, and so on—and +left in his usual way.</p> + +<p>"Can you remember <i>everything</i> he said?" Hewitt +asked. "If you can tell me, I should like to know +exactly what he did and said to the smallest particular."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, he saw me a little distance off—I was behind +there, at one of the desks—and raised his hand +to me, and said, 'How d'ye do?' I came across +and took his bills, and dealt with them in the usual +way. He had a new umbrella lying on the counter—rather +a handsome umbrella—and I made a remark +about the handle. He took it up to show me, +and told me it was a present he had just received +from a friend. It was a gorse-root handle, with two +silver bands, one with his monogram C.W.L. I said +it was a very nice handle, and asked him whether it +was fine in his district on Sunday. He said he had +been up the river, and it was very fine there. And +I think that was all."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Now about this umbrella. Did +he carry it rolled? Can you describe it in detail?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've told you about the handle, and the +rest was much as usual, I think; it wasn't rolled—just +flapping loosely, you know. It was rather an +odd-shaped handle, though. I'll try and sketch it, if +you like, as well as I can remember." He did so, +and Hewitt saw in the result rough indications of a +gnarled crook, with one silver band near the end, and +another, with the monogram, a few inches down the +handle. Hewitt put the sketch in his pocket, and +bade the cashier good-day.</p> + +<p>At the next bank the story was the same as at +the first—there was nothing remembered but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +usual routine. Hewitt and the clerk turned down +a narrow paved court, and through into Lombard +Street for the next visit. The bank—that of Buller, +Clayton, Ladds & Co.—was just at the corner at the +end of the court, and the imposing stone entrance-porch +was being made larger and more imposing +still, the way being almost blocked by ladders and +scaffold-poles. Here there was only the usual tale, +and so on through the whole walk. The cashiers +knew Laker only by sight, and that not always very +distinctly. The calls of walk-clerks were such matters +of routine that little note was taken of the persons +of the clerks themselves, who were called by +the names of their firms, if they were called by any +names at all. Laker had behaved much as usual, so +far as the cashiers could remember, and when finally +the Eastern Consolidated was left behind, nothing +more had been learnt than the chat about Laker's +new umbrella.</p> + +<p>Hewitt had taken leave of Mr. Neal's clerk, and +was stepping into a hansom, when he noticed a +veiled woman in widow's weeds hailing another +hansom a little way behind. He recognised the +figure again, and said to the driver, "Drive fast to +Palmer's Tourist Office, but keep your eye on that +cab behind, and tell me presently if it is following +us."</p> + +<p>The cabman drove off, and after passing one or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +two turnings, opened the lid above Hewitt's head, +and said, "That there other keb <i>is</i> a-follerin' us, sir, +an' keepin' about even distance all along."</p> + +<p>"All right; that's what I wanted to know. Palmer's +now."</p> + +<p>At Palmer's the clerk who had attended to Laker +remembered him very well, and described him. He +also remembered the wallet, and <i>thought</i> he remembered +the umbrella—was practically sure of it, in +fact, upon reflection. He had no record of the +name given, but remembered it distinctly to be +Laker. As a matter of fact, names were never asked +in such a transaction, but in this case Laker appeared +to be ignorant of the usual procedure, as +well as in a great hurry, and asked for the ticket +and gave his name all in one breath, probably assuming +that the name would be required.</p> + +<p>Hewitt got back to his cab, and started for Charing +Cross. The cabman once more lifted the lid and +informed him that the hansom with the veiled woman +in it was again following, having waited while +Hewitt had visited Palmer's. At Charing Cross +Hewitt discharged his cab and walked straight to +the lost property office. The man in charge knew +him very well, for his business had carried him there +frequently before.</p> + +<p>"I fancy an umbrella was lost in the station +yesterday," Hewitt said. "It was a new umbrella,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +silk, with a gnarled gorse-root handle and two silver +bands, something like this sketch. There was a +monogram on the lower band—'C. W. L.' were the +letters. Has it been brought here?"</p> + +<p>"There was two or three yesterday," the man +said; "let's see." He took the sketch and retired +to a corner of his room. "Oh, yes—here it is, I +think; isn't this it? Do you claim it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not exactly that, but I think I'll take a +look at it, if you'll let me. By the way, I see it's +rolled up. Was it found like that?"</p> + +<p>"No; the chap rolled it up what found it—porter +he was. It's a fad of his, rolling up umbrellas +close and neat, and he's rather proud of it. He +often looks as though he'd like to take a man's +umbrella away and roll it up for him when it's a bit +clumsy done. Rum fad, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; everybody has his little fad, though. +Where was this found—close by here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; just there, almost opposite this window, +in the little corner."</p> + +<p>"About two o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, about that time, more or less."</p> + +<p>Hewitt took the umbrella up, unfastened the +band, and shook the silk out loose. Then he opened +it, and as he did so a small scrap of paper fell from +inside it. Hewitt pounced on it like lightning. +Then, after examining the umbrella thoroughly, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>side +and out, he handed it back to the man, who had +not observed the incident of the scrap of paper.</p> + +<p>"That will do, thanks," he said. "I only wanted +to take a peep at it—just a small matter connected +with a little case of mine. Good-morning."</p> + +<p>He turned suddenly and saw, gazing at him with +a terrified expression from a door behind, the face +of the woman who had followed him in the cab. +The veil was lifted, and he caught but a mere glance +of the face ere it was suddenly withdrawn. He +stood for a moment to allow the woman time to retreat, +and then left the station and walked toward +his office, close by.</p> + +<p>Scarcely thirty yards along the Strand he met +Plummer.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to make some much closer inquiries +all down the line as far as Dover," Plummer said. +"They wire from Calais that they have no clue as +yet, and I mean to make quite sure, if I can, that +Laker hasn't quietly slipped off the line somewhere +between here and Dover. There's one very peculiar +thing," Plummer added confidentially. "Did you +see the two women who were waiting to see a member +of the firm at Liddle, Neal & Liddle's?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Laker's mother and his <i>fiancée</i>, I was +told."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Well, do you know that girl—Shaw +her name is—has been shadowing me ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +since I left the Bank. Of course I spotted it from +the beginning—these amateurs don't know how to +follow anybody—and, as a matter of fact, she's just +inside that jeweller's shop door behind me now, pretending +to look at the things in the window. But +it's odd, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Hewitt replied, "of course it's not a +thing to be neglected. If you'll look very carefully +at the corner of Villiers Street, without appearing to +stare, I think you will possibly observe some signs +of Laker's mother. She's shadowing <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>Plummer looked casually in the direction indicated, +and then immediately turned his eyes in another +direction.</p> + +<p>"I see her," he said; "she's just taking a look +round the corner. That's a thing not to be ignored. +Of course, the Lakers' house is being watched—we +set a man on it at once, yesterday. But I'll put some +one on now to watch Miss Shaw's place, too. I'll telephone +through to Liddle's—probably they'll be able +to say where it is. And the women themselves must +be watched, too. As a matter of fact, I had a notion +that Laker wasn't alone in it. And it's just possible, +you know, that he has sent an accomplice off with +his tourist ticket to lead us a dance while he looks +after himself in another direction. Have you done +anything?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Hewitt replied, with a faint reproduc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>tion +of the secretive smile with which Plummer had +met an inquiry of his earlier in the morning, "I've +been to the station here, and I've found Laker's +umbrella in the lost property office."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Then probably he <i>has</i> gone. I'll bear +that in mind, and perhaps have a word with the lost +property man."</p> + +<p>Plummer made for the station and Hewitt for his +office. He mounted the stairs and reached his door +just as I myself, who had been disappointed in not +finding him in, was leaving. I had called with the +idea of taking Hewitt to lunch with me at my club, +but he declined lunch. "I have an important case +in hand," he said. "Look here, Brett. See this +scrap of paper. You know the types of the different +newspapers—which is this?"</p> + +<p>He handed me a small piece of paper. It was +part of a cutting containing an advertisement, which +had been torn in half.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/210.png" width="300" height="85" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>"I <i>think</i>," I said, "this is from the <i>Daily +Chronicle</i>, judging by the paper. It is plainly from +the 'agony column,' but all the papers use pretty +much the same type for these advertisements, except +the <i>Times</i>. If it were not torn I could tell you at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +once, because the <i>Chronicle</i> columns are rather narrow."</p> + +<p>"Never mind—I'll send for them all." He rang, +and sent Kerrett for a copy of each morning paper +of the previous day. Then he took from a large +wardrobe cupboard a decent but well-worn and +rather roughened tall hat. Also a coat a little worn +and shiny on the collar. He exchanged these for his +own hat and coat, and then substituted an old necktie +for his own clean white one, and encased his legs +in mud-spotted leggings. This done, he produced a +very large and thick pocket-book, fastened by a +broad elastic band, and said, "Well, what do you +think of this? Will it do for Queen's taxes, or +sanitary inspection, or the gas, or the water-supply?"</p> + +<p>"Very well indeed, I should say," I replied. +"What's the case?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll tell you all about that when it's over—no +time now. Oh, here you are, Kerrett. By the +bye, Kerrett, I'm going out presently by the back +way. Wait for about ten minutes or a quarter of +an hour after I am gone, and then just go across the +road and speak to that lady in black, with the veil, +who is waiting in that little foot-passage opposite. +Say Mr. Martin Hewitt sends his compliments, and +he advises her not to wait, as he has already left his +office by another door, and has been gone some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +little time. That's all; it would be a pity to keep +the poor woman waiting all day for nothing. Now +the papers. <i>Daily News, Standard, Telegraph, Chronicle</i>—yes, +here it is, in the Chronicle."</p> + +<p>The whole advertisement read thus:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> +YOB.—H.R. Shop roast. You 1st. Then to-night. 02. 2nd top 3rd L. No. 197 red bl. +straight mon. One at a time. +</p></div> + +<p>"What's this," I asked, "a cryptogram?"</p> + +<p>"I'll see," Hewitt answered. "But I won't tell +you anything about it till afterwards, so you get +your lunch. Kerrett, bring the directory."</p> + +<p>This was all I actually saw of this case myself, +and I have written the rest in its proper order from +Hewitt's information, as I have written some other +cases entirely.</p> + +<p>To resume at the point where, for the time I lost +sight of the matter. Hewitt left by the back way +and stopped an empty cab as it passed. "Abney +Park Cemetery" was his direction to the driver. In +little more than twenty minutes the cab was branching +off down the Essex Road on its way to Stoke +Newington, and in twenty minutes more Hewitt +stopped it in Church Street, Stoke Newington. He +walked through a street or two, and then down +another, the houses of which he scanned carefully +as he passed. Opposite one which stood by itself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +he stopped, and, making a pretence of consulting +and arranging his large pocket-book, he took +a good look at the house. It was rather larger, +neater, and more pretentious than the others in +the street, and it had a natty little coach-house +just visible up the side entrance. There were +red blinds hung with heavy lace in the front +windows, and behind one of these blinds Hewitt +was able to catch the glint of a heavy gas chandelier.</p> + +<p>He stepped briskly up the front steps and +knocked sharply at the door. "Mr. Merston?" he +asked, pocket-book in hand, when a neat parlour-maid +opened the door.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Hewitt stepped into the hall and pulled +off his hat; "it's only the meter. There's been +a deal of gas running away somewhere here, and +I'm just looking to see if the meters are right. +Where is it?"</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated. "I'll—I'll ask master," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Very well. I don't want to take it away, +you know—only to give it a tap or two, and so +on."</p> + +<p>The girl retired to the back of the hall, and +without taking her eyes off Martin Hewitt, gave +his message to some invisible person in a back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +room, whence came a growling reply of "All +right."</p> + +<p>Hewitt followed the girl to the basement, apparently +looking straight before him, but in reality +taking in every detail of the place. The gas meter +was in a very large lumber cupboard under the +kitchen stairs. The girl opened the door and lit +a candle. The meter stood on the floor, which was +littered with hampers and boxes and odd sheets of +brown paper. But a thing that at once arrested +Hewitt's attention was a garment of some sort of +bright blue cloth, with large brass buttons, which +was lying in a tumbled heap in a corner, and appeared +to be the only thing in the place that was +not covered with dust. Nevertheless, Hewitt took +no apparent notice of it, but stooped down and +solemnly tapped the meter three times with his +pencil, and listened with great gravity, placing his +ear to the top. Then he shook his head and tapped +again. At length he said:—</p> + +<p>"It's a bit doubtful. I'll just get you to light +the gas in the kitchen a moment. Keep your hand +to the burner, and when I call out shut it off <i>at +once</i>; see?"</p> + +<p>The girl turned and entered the kitchen, and +Hewitt immediately seized the blue coat—for a coat +it was. It had a dull red piping in the seams, and +was of the swallow-tail pattern—a livery coat, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +fact. He held it for a moment before him, examining +its pattern and colour, and then rolled it up and +flung it again into the corner.</p> + +<p>"Right!" he called to the servant. "Shut +off!"</p> + +<p>The girl emerged from the kitchen as he left +the cupboard.</p> + +<p>"Well," she asked, "are you satisfied now?"</p> + +<p>"Quite satisfied, thank you," Hewitt replied.</p> + +<p>"Is it all right?" she continued, jerking her +hand toward the cupboard.</p> + +<p>"Well, no, it isn't; there's something wrong +there, and I'm glad I came. You can tell Mr. +Merston, if you like, that I expect his gas bill will +be a good deal less next quarter." And there was +a suspicion of a chuckle in Hewitt's voice as he +crossed the hall to leave. For a gas inspector is +pleased when he finds at length what he has been +searching for.</p> + +<p>Things had fallen out better than Hewitt had +dared to expect. He saw the key of the whole +mystery in that blue coat; for it was the uniform +coat of the hall porters at one of the banks that he +had visited in the morning, though which one he +could not for the moment remember. He entered +the nearest post-office and despatched a +telegram to Plummer, giving certain directions +and asking the inspector to meet him; then he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +hailed the first available cab and hurried toward +the City.</p> + +<p>At Lombard Street he alighted, and looked in at +the door of each bank till he came to Buller, Clayton, +Ladds & Co.'s. This was the bank he wanted. +In the other banks the hall porters wore mulberry +coats, brick-dust coats, brown coats, and what +not, but here, behind the ladders and scaffold +poles which obscured the entrance, he could see +a man in a blue coat, with dull red piping and +brass buttons. He sprang up the steps, pushed +open the inner swing door, and finally satisfied himself +by a closer view of the coat, to the wearer's +astonishment. Then he regained the pavement and +walked the whole length of the bank premises in +front, afterwards turning up the paved passage at +the side, deep in thought. The bank had no windows +or doors on the side next the court, and the +two adjoining houses were old and supported in +places by wooden shores. Both were empty, and a +great board announced that tenders would be received +in a month's time for the purchase of the old +materials of which they were constructed; also that +some part of the site would be let on a long building +lease.</p> + +<p>Hewitt looked up at the grimy fronts of the old +buildings. The windows were crusted thick with +dirt—all except the bottom window of the house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +nearer the bank, which was fairly clean, and seemed +to have been quite lately washed. The door, too, of +this house was cleaner than that of the other, though +the paint was worn. Hewitt reached and fingered a +hook driven into the left-hand doorpost about six +feet from the ground. It was new, and not at all +rusted; also a tiny splinter had been displaced when +the hook was driven in, and clean wood showed at +the spot.</p> + +<p>Having observed these things, Hewitt stepped +back and read at the bottom of the big board the +name, "Winsor & Weekes, Surveyors and Auctioneers, +Abchurch Lane." Then he stepped into Lombard +Street.</p> + +<p>Two hansoms pulled up near the post-office, and +out of the first stepped Inspector Plummer and +another man. This man and the two who alighted +from the second hansom were unmistakably plain-clothes +constables—their air, gait, and boots proclaimed +it.</p> + +<p>"What's all this?" demanded Plummer, as Hewitt +approached.</p> + +<p>"You'll soon see, I think. But, first, have you +put the watch on No. 197, Hackworth Road?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; nobody will get away from there alone."</p> + +<p>"Very good. I am going into Abchurch Lane +for a few minutes. Leave your men out here, but +just go round into the court by Buller, Clayton <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>& +Ladds's, and keep your eye on the first door on the +left. I think we'll find something soon. Did you +get rid of Miss Shaw?"</p> + +<p>"No, she's behind now, and Mrs. Laker's with +her. They met in the Strand, and came after us in +another cab. Rare fun, eh! They think we're +pretty green! It's quite handy, too. So long as +they keep behind me it saves all trouble of watching +<i>them</i>." And Inspector Plummer chuckled and +winked.</p> + +<p>"Very good. You don't mind keeping your eye +on that door, do you? I'll be back very soon," and +with that Hewitt turned off into Abchurch Lane.</p> + +<p>At Winsor & Weekes's information was not difficult +to obtain. The houses were destined to come +down very shortly, but a week or so ago an office +and a cellar in one of them was let temporarily to a +Mr. Westley. He brought no references; indeed, as +he paid a fortnight's rent in advance, he was not +asked for any, considering the circumstances of the +case. He was opening a London branch for a large +firm of cider merchants, he said, and just wanted a +rough office and a cool cellar to store samples in for +a few weeks till the permanent premises were ready. +There was another key, and no doubt the premises +might be entered if there were any special need for +such a course. Martin Hewitt gave such excellent +reasons that Winsor & Weekes's managing clerk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +immediately produced the key and accompanied +Hewitt to the spot.</p> + +<p>"I think you'd better have your men handy," +Hewitt remarked to Plummer when they reached +the door, and a whistle quickly brought the men over.</p> + +<p>The key was inserted in the lock and turned, but +the door would not open; the bolt was fastened at the +bottom. Hewitt stooped and looked under the door.</p> + +<p>"It's a drop bolt," he said. "Probably the man +who left last let it fall loose, and then banged the +door, so that it fell into its place. I must try my +best with a wire or a piece of string."</p> + +<p>A wire was brought, and with some manœuvring +Hewitt contrived to pass it round the bolt, and lift +it little by little, steadying it with the blade of a +pocket-knife. When at length the bolt was raised +out of the hole, the knife-blade was slipped under +it, and the door swung open.</p> + +<p>They entered. The door of the little office just +inside stood open, but in the office there was nothing, +except a board a couple of feet long in a corner. +Hewitt stepped across and lifted this, turning its +downward face toward Plummer. On it, in fresh +white paint on a black ground, were painted the +words—</p> + +<p class="center"> +"<span class="smcap">Buller, Clayton, Ladds & Co.,<br /> +Temporary Entrance.</span>"<br /> +</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hewitt turned to Winsor & Weekes's clerk and +asked, "The man who took this room called himself +Westley, didn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Youngish man, clean-shaven, and well-dressed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was."</p> + +<p>"I fancy," Hewitt said, turning to Plummer, "I +<i>fancy</i> an old friend of yours is in this—Mr. Sam +Gunter."</p> + +<p>"What, the 'Hoxton Yob'?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's possible he's been Mr. Westley for a +bit, and somebody else for another bit. But let's +come to the cellar."</p> + +<p>Winsor & Weekes's clerk led the way down a +steep flight of steps into a dark underground corridor, +wherein they lighted their way with many successive +matches. Soon the corridor made a turn to +the right, and as the party passed the turn, there +came from the end of the passage before them a +fearful yell.</p> + +<p>"Help! help! Open the door! I'm going mad—mad! +O my God!"</p> + +<p>And there was a sound of desperate beating +from the inside of the cellar door at the extreme +end. The men stopped, startled.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Hewitt, "more matches!" and he +rushed to the door. It was fastened with a bar and +padlock.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me out, for God's sake!" came the +voice, sick and hoarse, from the inside. "Let me +out!"</p> + +<p>"All right!" Hewitt shouted. "We have come +for you. Wait a moment."</p> + +<p>The voice sank into a sort of sobbing croon, and +Hewitt tried several keys from his own bunch on +the padlock. None fitted. He drew from his +pocket the wire he had used for the bolt of the +front door, straightened it out, and made a sharp +bend at the end.</p> + +<p>"Hold a match close," he ordered shortly, and +one of the men obeyed. Three or four attempts +were necessary, and several different bendings of the +wire were effected, but in the end Hewitt picked the +lock, and flung open the door.</p> + +<p>From within a ghastly figure fell forward among +them fainting, and knocked out the matches.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" cried Plummer. "Hold up! Who +are you?"</p> + +<p>"Let's get him up into the open," said Hewitt. +"He can't tell you who he is for a bit, but I believe +he's Laker."</p> + +<p>"Laker! What, here?"</p> + +<p>"I think so. Steady up the steps. Don't bump +him. He's pretty sore already, I expect."</p> + +<p>Truly the man was a pitiable sight. His hair +and face were caked in dust and blood, and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +finger-nails were torn and bleeding. Water was sent +for at once, and brandy.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Plummer hazily, looking first at the +unconscious prisoner and then at Hewitt, "but what +about the swag?"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to find that yourself," Hewitt replied. +"I think my share of the case is about finished. +I only act for the Guarantee Society, you +know, and if Laker's proved innocent——"</p> + +<p>"Innocent! How?"</p> + +<p>"Well, this is what took place, as near as I can +figure it. You'd better undo his collar, I think"—this +to the men. "What I believe has happened is +this. There has been a very clever and carefully +prepared conspiracy here, and Laker has not been +the criminal, but the victim."</p> + +<p>"Been robbed himself, you mean? But how? +Where?"</p> + +<p>"Yesterday morning, before he had been to more +than three banks—here, in fact."</p> + +<p>"But then how? You're all wrong. We <i>know</i> +he made the whole round, and did all the collection. +And then Palmer's office, and all, and the umbrella; +why——"</p> + +<p>The man lay still unconscious. "Don't raise his +head," Hewitt said. "And one of you had best +fetch a doctor. He's had a terrible shock." Then +turning to Plummer he went on, "As to <i>how</i> they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +managed the job I'll tell you what I think. First it +struck some very clever person that a deal of money +might be got by robbing a walk-clerk from a bank. +This clever person was one of a clever gang of +thieves—perhaps the Hoxton Row gang, as I think +I hinted. Now you know quite as well as I do that +such a gang will spend any amount of time over a +job that promises a big haul, and that for such a job +they can always command the necessary capital. +There are many most respectable persons living in +good style in the suburbs whose chief business lies +in financing such ventures, and taking the chief +share of the proceeds. Well, this is their plan, carefully +and intelligently carried out. They watch +Laker, observe the round he takes, and his habits. +They find that there is only one of the clerks with +whom he does business that he is much acquainted +with, and that this clerk is in a bank which is commonly +second in Laker's round. The sharpest man +among them—and I don't think there's a man in +London could do this as well as young Sam Gunter—studies +Laker's dress and habits just as an actor +studies a character. They take this office and cellar, +as we have seen, <i>because it is next door to a bank +whose front entrance is being altered</i>—a fact which +Laker must know from his daily visits. The smart +man—Gunter, let us say, and I have other reasons +for believing it to be he—makes up precisely like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +Laker, false moustache, dress, and everything, and +waits here with the rest of the gang. One of the +gang is dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, +like a hall-porter in Buller's bank. Do you see?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. It's pretty clear now."</p> + +<p>"A confederate watches at the top of the court, +and the moment Laker turns in from Cornhill—having +already been, mind, at the only bank where +he was so well known that the disguised thief would +not have passed muster—as soon as he turns in +from Cornhill, I say, a signal is given, and that +board"—pointing to that with the white letters—"is +hung on the hook in the doorpost. The sham +porter stands beside it, and as Laker approaches +says, 'This way in, sir, this morning. The front +way's shut for the alterations.' Laker, suspecting +nothing, and supposing that the firm have made a +temporary entrance through the empty house, enters. +He is seized when well along the corridor, +the board is taken down and the door shut. Probably +he is stunned by a blow on the head—see the +blood now. They take his wallet and all the cash +he has already collected. Gunter takes the wallet +and also the umbrella, since it has Laker's initials, +and is therefore distinctive. He simply completes +the walk in the character of Laker, beginning with +Buller, Clayton & Ladds's just round the corner. It +is nothing but routine work, which is quickly done,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +and nobody notices him particularly—it is the bills +they examine. Meanwhile this unfortunate fellow +is locked up in the cellar here, right at the end of +the underground corridor, where he can never make +himself heard in the street, and where next him are +only the empty cellars of the deserted house next +door. The thieves shut the front door and vanish. +The rest is plain. Gunter, having completed the +round, and bagged some £15,000 or more, spends a +few pounds in a tourist ticket at Palmer's as a blind, +being careful to give Laker's name. He leaves the +umbrella at Charing Cross in a conspicuous place +right opposite the lost property office, where it is +sure to be seen, and so completes his false trail."</p> + +<p>"Then who are the people at 197, Hackworth +Road?"</p> + +<p>"The capitalist lives there—the financier, and +probably the directing spirit of the whole thing. +Merston's the name he goes by there, and I've +no doubt he cuts a very imposing figure in +chapel every Sunday. He'll be worth picking +up—this isn't the first thing he's been in, I'll +warrant."</p> + +<p>"But—but what about Laker's mother and Miss +Shaw?"</p> + +<p>"Well, what? The poor women are nearly +out of their minds with terror and shame, that's +all, but though they may think Laker a criminal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +they'll never desert him. They've been following +us about with a feeble, vague sort of hope of +being able to baffle us in some way or help him +if we caught him, or something, poor things. +Did you ever hear of a real woman who'd desert +a son or a lover merely because he was a criminal? +But here's the doctor. When he's attended +to him will you let your men take Laker home? +I must hurry and report to the Guarantee Society, +I think."</p> + +<p>"But," said the perplexed Plummer, "where +did you get your clue? You must have had a tip +from some one, you know—you can't have done it +by clairvoyance. What gave you the tip?"</p> + +<p>"The <i>Daily Chronicle</i>."</p> + +<p>"The <i>what</i>?"</p> + +<p>"The <i>Daily Chronicle</i>. Just take a look at the +'agony column' in yesterday morning's issue, and +read the message to 'Yob'—to Gunter, in fact. +That's all."</p> + +<p>By this time a cab was waiting in Lombard +Street, and two of Plummer's men, under the +doctor's directions, carried Laker to it. No sooner, +however, were they in the court than the two +watching women threw themselves hysterically +upon Laker, and it was long before they could be +persuaded that he was not being taken to gaol. +The mother shrieked aloud, "My boy—my boy!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +Don't take him! Oh, don't take him! They've +killed my boy! Look at his head—oh, his head!" +and wrestled desperately with the men, while +Hewitt attempted to soothe her, and promised to +allow her to go in the cab with her son if she +would only be quiet. The younger woman made +no noise, but she held one of Laker's limp hands +in both hers.</p> + +<p>Hewitt and I dined together that evening, and +he gave me a full account of the occurrences which +I have here set down. Still, when he was finished +I was not able to see clearly by what process of +reasoning he had arrived at the conclusions that +gave him the key to the mystery, nor did I +understand the "agony column" message, and I +said so.</p> + +<p>"In the beginning," Hewitt explained, "the +thing that struck me as curious was the fact that +Laker was said to have given his own name at +Palmer's in buying his ticket. Now, the first +thing the greenest and newest criminal thinks of +is changing his name, so that the giving of his +own name seemed unlikely to begin with. Still, +he <i>might</i> have made such a mistake, as Plummer +suggested when he said that criminals usually +make a mistake somewhere—as they do, in fact. +Still, it was the least likely mistake I could think +of—especially as he actually didn't wait to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +asked for his name, but blurted it out when it +wasn't really wanted. And it was conjoined with +another rather curious mistake, or what would have +been a mistake if the thief were Laker. Why +should he conspicuously display his wallet—such +a distinctive article—for the clerk to see and +note? Why rather had he not got rid of it before +showing himself? Suppose it should be somebody +personating Laker? In any case I determined +not to be prejudiced by what I had heard +of Laker's betting. A man may bet without being +a thief.</p> + +<p>"But, again, supposing it <i>were</i> Laker? Might +he not have given his name, and displayed his +wallet, and so on, while buying a ticket for +France, in order to draw pursuit after himself +in that direction while he made off in another, +in another name, and disguised? Each supposition +was plausible. And, in either case, it might +happen that whoever was laying this trail would +probably lay it a little farther. Charing Cross +was the next point, and there I went. I already +had it from Plummer that Laker had not been +recognised there. Perhaps the trail had been +laid in some other manner. Something left behind +with Laker's name on it, perhaps? I at +once thought of the umbrella with his monogram, +and, making a long shot, asked for it at the lost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +property office, as you know. The guess was +lucky. In the umbrella, as you know, I found that +scrap of paper. That, I judged, had fallen in from +the hand of the man carrying the umbrella. He +had torn the paper in half in order to fling it away, +and one piece had fallen into the loosely flapping +umbrella. It is a thing that will often happen with +an omnibus ticket, as you may have noticed. Also, +it was proved that the umbrella <i>was</i> unrolled when +found, and rolled immediately after. So here was a +piece of paper dropped by the person who had +brought the umbrella to Charing Cross and left it. +I got the whole advertisement, as you remember, +and I studied it. 'Yob' is back-slang for 'boy,' and +it is often used in nicknames to denote a young +smooth-faced thief. Gunter, the man I suspect, as +a matter of fact, is known as the 'Hoxton Yob.' +The message, then, was addressed to some one +known by such a nickname. Next, 'H.R. shop +roast.' Now, in thieves' slang, to 'roast' a thing or +a person is to watch it or him. They call any place +a shop—notably, a thieves' den. So that this meant +that some resort—perhaps the 'Hoxton Row shop'—was +watched. 'You 1st then to-night' would be +clearer, perhaps, when the rest was understood. I +thought a little over the rest, and it struck me that +it must be a direction to some other house, since +one was warned of as being watched. Besides, there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +was the number, 197, and 'red bl.,' which would be +extremely likely to mean 'red blinds,' by way of +clearly distinguishing the house. And then the plan +of the thing was plain. You have noticed, probably, +that the map of London which accompanies the Post +Office Directory is divided, for convenience of reference, +into numbered squares?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The squares are denoted by letters along +the top margin and figures down the side. So that +if you consult the directory, and find a place marked +as being in D 5, for instance, you find vertical divisions +D, and run your finger down it till it intersects +horizontal division 5, and there you are."</p> + +<p>"Precisely. I got my Post Office Directory, and +looked for 'O 2.' It was in North London, and took +in parts of Abney Park Cemetery and Clissold Park; +'2nd top' was the next sign. Very well, I counted +the second street intersecting the top of the square—counting, +in the usual way, from the left. That +was Lordship Road. Then, '3rd L.' From the +point where Lordship Road crossed the top of the +square, I ran my finger down the road till it came +to '3rd L,' or, in other words, the third turning on +the left—Hackworth Road. So there we were, unless +my guesses were altogether wrong. 'Straight +mon' probably meant 'straight moniker'—that is to +say, the proper name, a thief's <i>real</i> name, in contradistinction +to that he may assume. I turned over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +the directory till I found Hackworth Road, and +found that No. 197 was inhabited by a Mr. Merston. +From the whole thing I judged this. There was to +have been a meeting at the 'H.R. shop,' but that +was found, at the last moment, to be watched by the +police for some purpose, so that another appointment +was made for this house in the suburbs. 'You +1st. Then to-night'—the person addressed was to +come first, and the others in the evening. They +were to ask for the householder's 'straight moniker'—Mr. +Merston. And they were to come one at +a time.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, what was this? What theory would +fit it? Suppose this were a robbery, directed from +afar by the advertiser. Suppose, on the day before +the robbery, it was found that the place fixed for +division of spoils were watched. Suppose that the +principal thereupon advertised (as had already been +agreed in case of emergency) in these terms. The +principal in the actual robbery—the 'Yob' addressed—was +to go first with the booty. The others +were to come after, one at a time. Anyway, the +thing was good enough to follow a little further, and +I determined to try No. 197, Hackworth Road. I +have told you what I found there, and how it opened +my eyes. I went, of course, merely on chance, to +see what I might chance to see. But luck favoured, +and I happened on that coat—brought back rolled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +up, on the evening after the robbery, doubtless by +the thief who had used it, and flung carelessly into +the handiest cupboard. <i>That</i> was this gang's mistake."</p> + +<p>"Well, I congratulate you," I said. "I hope +they'll catch the rascals."</p> + +<p>"I rather think they will, now they know where +to look. They can scarcely miss Merston, anyway. +There has been very little to go upon in this case, +but I stuck to the thread, however slight, and it +brought me through. The rest of the case, of +course, is Plummer's. It was a peculiarity of my +commission that I could equally well fulfil it by +catching the man with all the plunder, or by proving +him innocent. Having done the latter, my work was +at an end, but I left it where Plummer will be able +to finish the job handsomely."</p> + +<p>Plummer did. Sam Gunter, Merston, and one +accomplice were taken—the first and last were well +known to the police—and were identified by Laker. +Merston, as Hewitt had suspected, had kept the +lion's share for himself, so that altogether, with +what was recovered from him and the other two, +nearly £11,000 was saved for Messrs. Liddle, Neal +& Liddle. Merston, when taken, was in the act of +packing up to take a holiday abroad, and there cash +his notes, which were found, neatly packed in separate +thousands, in his portmanteau. As Hewitt had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +predicted, his gas bill <i>was</i> considerably less next +quarter, for less than half-way through it he began +a term in gaol.</p> + +<p>As for Laker, he was reinstated, of course, with +an increase of salary by way of compensation for +his broken head. He had passed a terrible twenty-six +hours in the cellar, unfed and unheard. Several +times he had become insensible, and again and again +he had thrown himself madly against the door, +shouting and tearing at it, till he fell back exhausted, +with broken nails and bleeding fingers. +For some hours before the arrival of his rescuers +he had been sitting in a sort of stupor, from which +he was suddenly aroused by the sound of voices and +footsteps. He was in bed for a week, and required +a rest of a month in addition before he could resume +his duties. Then he was quietly lectured by Mr. +Neal as to betting, and, I believe, dropped that +practice in consequence. I am told that he is "at +the counter" now—a considerable promotion.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="THE_CASE_OF_THE_LOST_FOREIGNER" id="THE_CASE_OF_THE_LOST_FOREIGNER"></a>THE CASE OF THE LOST FOREIGNER.</h2> + + +<p>I have already said in more than one place that +Hewitt's personal relations with the members of the +London police force were of a cordial character. +In the course of his work it has frequently been +Hewitt's hap to learn of matters on which the police +were glad of information, and that information was +always passed on at once; and so long as no +infringement of regulations or damage to public +service were involved, Hewitt could always rely on +a return in kind.</p> + +<p>It was with a message of a useful sort that +Hewitt one day dropped into Vine Street police-station +and asked for a particular inspector, who +was not in. Hewitt sat and wrote a note, and by +way of making conversation said to the inspector on +duty, "Anything very startling this way to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing <i>very</i> startling, perhaps, as yet," the +inspector replied. "But one of our chaps picked up +rather an odd customer a little while ago. Lunatic +of some sort, I should think—in fact, I've sent for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +the doctor to see him. He's a foreigner—a Frenchman, +I believe. He seemed horribly weak and +faint; but the oddest thing occurred when one of the +men, thinking he might be hungry, brought in some +bread. He went into fits of terror at the sight of it, +and wouldn't be pacified till they took it away +again."</p> + +<p>"That was strange."</p> + +<p>"Odd, wasn't it? And he <i>was</i> hungry too. +They brought him some more a little while after, +and he didn't funk it a bit,—pitched into it, in fact, +like anything, and ate it all with some cold beef. +It's the way with some lunatics—never the same five +minutes together. He keeps crying like a baby, +and saying things we can't understand. As it happens, +there's nobody in just now who speaks +French."</p> + +<p>"I speak French," Hewitt replied. "Shall I try +him?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you will. He's in the men's room +below. They've been making him as comfortable as +possible by the fire until the doctor comes. He's a +long time. I expect he's got a case on."</p> + +<p>Hewitt found his way to the large mess-room, +where three or four policemen in their shirt-sleeves +were curiously regarding a young man of very disordered +appearance who sat on a chair by the fire. +He was pale, and exhibited marks of bruises on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +face, while over one eye was a scarcely healed cut. +His figure was small and slight, his coat was torn, +and he sat with a certain indefinite air of shivering +suffering. He started and looked round apprehensively +as Hewitt entered. Hewitt bowed smilingly, +wished him good-day, speaking in French, and asked +him if he spoke the language.</p> + +<p>The man looked up with a dull expression, and +after an effort or two, as of one who stutters, burst +out with, "<i>Je le nie!</i>"</p> + +<p>"That's strange," Hewitt observed to the men. +"I ask him if he speaks French, and he says he denies +it—speaking <i>in</i> French."</p> + +<p>"He's been saying that very often, sir," one of +the men answered, "as well as other things we can't +make anything of."</p> + +<p>Hewitt placed his hand kindly on the man's +shoulder and asked his name. The reply was for a +little while an inarticulate gurgle, presently merging +into a meaningless medley of words and syllables—"<i>Qu'est +ce qu'</i>—<i>il n'a</i>—Leystar Squarr—<i>sacré nom</i>—not +spik it—<i>quel chemin</i>—sank you ver' mosh—<i>je le +nie! je le nie!</i>" He paused, stared, and then, as +though realizing his helplessness, he burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"He's been a-cryin' two or three times," said the +man who had spoken before. "He was a-cryin' +when we found him."</p> + +<p>Several more attempts Hewitt made to communi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>cate +with the man, but though he seemed to comprehend +what was meant, he replied with nothing +but meaningless gibber, and finally gave up the attempt, +and, leaning against the side of the fireplace, +buried his head in the bend of his arm.</p> + +<p>Then the doctor arrived and made <i>his</i> examination. +While it was in progress Hewitt took aside +the policeman who had been speaking before and +questioned him further. He had himself found the +Frenchman in a dull back street by Golden Square, +where the man was standing helpless and trembling, +apparently quite bewildered and very weak. He +had brought him in, without having been able to +learn anything about him. One or two shopkeepers +in the street where he was found were asked, but +knew nothing of him—indeed, had never seen him +before.</p> + +<p>"But the curiousest thing," the policeman proceeded, +"was in this 'ere room, when I brought him +a loaf to give him a bit of a snack, seein' he looked +so weak an' 'ungry. You'd 'a thought we was +a-goin' to poison 'im. He fair screamed at the very +sight o' the bread, an' he scrouged hisself up in that +corner an' put his hands in front of his face. I +couldn't make out what was up at first—didn't tumble +to it's bein' the bread he was frightened of, +seein' as he looked like a man as 'ud be frightened +at anything else afore <i>that</i>. But the nearer I came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +with it the more he yelled, so I took it away an' left +it outside, an' then he calmed down. An' s'elp me, +when I cut some bits off that there very loaf an' +brought 'em in, with a bit o' beef, he just went for +'em like one o'clock. <i>He</i> wasn't frightened o' no +bread then, you bet. Rum thing, how the fancies +takes 'em when they're a bit touched, ain't +it? All one way one minute, all the other the +next."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is. By the way, have you another uncut +loaf in the place?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Half a dozen if you like."</p> + +<p>"One will be enough. I am going over to speak +to the doctor. Wait awhile until he seems very +quiet and fairly comfortable; then bring a loaf in +quietly and put it on the table, not far from his elbow. +Don't attract his attention to what you are +doing."</p> + +<p>The doctor stood looking thoughtfully down on +the Frenchman, who, for his part, stared gloomily, +but tranquilly, at the fireplace. Hewitt stepped +quietly over to the doctor and, without disturbing +the man by the fire, said interrogatively, "Aphasia?"</p> + +<p>The doctor tightened his lips, frowned, and +nodded significantly. "Motor," he murmured, just +loudly enough for Hewitt to hear; "and there's a +general nervous break-down as well, I should say.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +By the way, perhaps there's no agraphia. Have +you tried him with pen and paper?"</p> + +<p>Pen and paper were brought and set before the +man. He was told, slowly and distinctly, that he +was among friends, whose only object was to restore +him to his proper health. Would he write his name +and address, and any other information he might +care to give about himself, on the paper before him?</p> + +<p>The Frenchman took the pen and stared at the +paper; then slowly, and with much hesitation, he +traced these marks:—</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/239.png" width="600" height="115" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>The man paused after the last of these futile +characters, and his pen stabbed into the paper with +a blot, as he dazedly regarded his work. Then with +a groan he dropped it, and his face sank again into +the bend of his arm.</p> + +<p>The doctor took the paper and handed it to +Hewitt. "Complete agraphia, you see," he said. +"He can't write a word. He begins to write 'Monsieur' +from sheer habit in beginning letters thus; +but the word tails off into a scrawl. Then his attempts +become mere scribble, with just a trace of +some familiar word here and there—but quite meaningless +all."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>Although he had never before chanced to come +across a case of aphasia (happily a rare disease), +Hewitt was acquainted with its general nature. He +knew that it might arise either from some physical +injury to the brain, or from a break-down consequent +on some terrible nervous strain. He knew that in +the case of motor aphasia the sufferer, though fully +conscious of all that goes on about him, and though +quite understanding what is said to him is entirely +powerless to put his own thoughts into spoken +words—has lost, in fact, the connection between +words and their spoken symbols. Also that in most +bad cases agraphia—the loss of ability to write +words with any reference to their meaning—is commonly +an accompaniment.</p> + +<p>"You will have him taken to the infirmary, I +suppose?" Hewitt asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the doctor replied. "I shall go and see +about it at once."</p> + +<p>The man looked up again as they spoke. The +policeman had, in accordance with Hewitt's request, +placed a loaf of bread on the table near him, and +now as he looked up he caught sight of it. He +started visibly and paled, but gave no such signs of +abject terror as the policeman had previously observed. +He appeared nervous and uneasy, however, +and presently reached stealthily toward the loaf. +Hewitt continued to talk to the doctor, while closely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +watching the Frenchman's behaviour from the +corner of his eye.</p> + +<p>The loaf was what is called a "plain cottage," of +solid and regular shape. The man reached it and +immediately turned it bottom up on the table. +Then he sank back in his chair with a more contented +expression, though his gaze was still directed +toward the loaf. The policeman grinned silently at +this curious manœuvre.</p> + +<p>The doctor left, and Hewitt accompanied him to +the door of the room. "He will not be moved just +yet, I take it?" Hewitt asked as they parted.</p> + +<p>"It may take an hour or two," the doctor replied. +"Are you anxious to keep him here?"</p> + +<p>"Not for long; but I think there's a curious inside +to the case, and I may perhaps learn something +of it by a little watching. But I can't spare very +long."</p> + +<p>At a sign from Hewitt the loaf was removed. +Then Hewitt pulled the small table closer to the +Frenchman and pushed the pen and sheets of paper +toward him. The manœuvre had its result. The +man looked up and down the room vacantly once or +twice and then began to turn the papers over. +From that he went to dipping the pen in the inkpot, +and presently he was scribbling at random on the +loose sheets. Hewitt affected to leave him entirely +alone, and seemed to be absorbed in a contemplation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +of a photograph of a police-division brass band that +hung on the wall, but he saw every scratch the man +made.</p> + +<p>At first there was nothing but meaningless +scrawls and attempted words. Then rough sketches +appeared, of a man's head, a chair or what not. On +the mantelpiece stood a small clock—apparently a +sort of humble presentation piece, the body of the +clock being set in a horse-shoe frame, with crossed +whips behind it. After a time the Frenchman's eyes +fell on this, and he began a crude sketch of it. That +he relinquished, and went on with other random +sketches and scribblings on the same piece of paper, +sketching and scribbling over the sketches in a half-mechanical +sort of way, as of one who trifles with a pen +during a brown study. Beginning at the top left-hand +corner of the paper, he travelled all round it +till he arrived at the left-hand bottom corner. Then +dashing his pen hastily across his last sketch he +dropped it, and with a great shudder turned away +again and hid his face by the fireplace.</p> + +<p>Hewitt turned at once and seized the papers on +the table. He stuffed them all into his coat-pocket, +with the exception of the last which the man had +been engaged on, and this, a facsimile of which is +subjoined, he studied earnestly for several minutes.</p> + +<p>Hewitt wished the men good-day, and made his +way to the inspector.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," the inspector said, "not much to be got +out of him, is there? The doctor will be sending +for him presently."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/243.png" width="400" height="389" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>"I fancy," said Hewitt, "that this may turn out +a very important case. Possibly—quite possibly—I +may not have guessed correctly, and so I won't tell +you anything of it till I know a little more. But +what I want now is a messenger. Can I send some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>body +at once in a cab to my friend Brett at his +chambers?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I'll find somebody. Want to write +a note?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt wrote and despatched a note, which +reached me in less than ten minutes. Then he +asked the inspector, "Have you searched the +Frenchman?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. We went all over him, when we +found he couldn't explain himself, to see if we +could trace his friends or his address. He didn't +seem to mind. But there wasn't a single thing in +his pocket—not a single thing, barring a rag of a +pocket-handkerchief with no marking on it."</p> + +<p>"You noticed that somebody had stolen his +watch, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he hadn't got one."</p> + +<p>"But he had one of those little vertical button-holes +in his waistcoat, used to fasten a watchguard +to, and it was much worn and frayed, so that he +must be in the habit of carrying a watch; and it +is gone."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and everything else too, eh? Looks like +robbery. He's had a knock or two in the face—notice +that?"</p> + +<p>"I saw the bruises and the cut, of course; +and his collar has been broken away, with the +back button; somebody has taken him by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +collar or throat. Was he wearing a hat when he +was found?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"That would imply that he had only just left +a house. What street was he found in?"</p> + +<p>"Henry Street—a little off Golden Square. +Low street, you know."</p> + +<p>"Did the constable notice a door open near +by?"</p> + +<p>The inspector shook his head. "Half the doors +in the street are open," he said, "pretty nearly all +day."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then there's nothing in that. I don't think +he lives there, by the bye. I fancy he comes from +more in the Seven Dials or Drury Lane direction. +Did you notice anything about the man that gave +you a clue to his occupation—or at any rate to his +habits?"</p> + +<p>"Can't say I did."</p> + +<p>"Well, just take a look at the back of his coat +before he goes away—just over the loins. Good-day."</p> + +<p>As I have said, Hewitt's messenger was quick. +I happened to be in—having lately returned +from a latish lunch—when he arrived with this +note:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"My dear B.,—I meant to have lunched with +you to-day, but have been kept. I expect you are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>idle this afternoon, and I have a case that will +interest you—perhaps be useful to you from a +journalistic point of view. If you care to see +anything of it, cab away <i>at once</i> to Fitzroy Square, +south side, where I'll meet you. I will wait no +later than 3.30. Yours, M. H."</p></div> + +<p>I had scarce a quarter of an hour, so I seized +my hat and left my chambers at once. As it happened, +my cab and Hewitt's burst into Fitzroy +Square from opposite sides almost at the same +moment, so that we lost no time.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Hewitt, taking my arm and marching +me off, "we are going to look for some stabling. +Try to feel as though you'd just set up a brougham +and had come out to look for a place to put it +in. I fear we may have to delude some person +with that belief presently."</p> + +<p>"Why—what do you want stables for? And +why make me your excuse?"</p> + +<p>"As to what I want the stables for—really I'm +not altogether sure myself. As to making you an +excuse—well, even the humblest excuse is better +than none. But come, here are some stables. Not +good enough, though, even if any of them were +empty. Come on."</p> + +<p>We had stopped for an instant at the entrance +to a small alley of rather dirty stables, and Hewitt, +paying apparently but small attention to the stables<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +themselves, had looked sharply about him with his +gaze in the air.</p> + +<p>"I know this part of London pretty well," +Hewitt observed, "and I can only remember one +other range of stabling near by; we must try that. +As a matter of fact, I'm coming here on little +more than conjecture, though I shall be surprised +if there isn't something in it. Do you know anything +of aphasia?"</p> + +<p>"I have heard of it, of course, though I can't +say I remember ever knowing a case."</p> + +<p>"I've seen one to-day—very curious case. The +man's a Frenchman, discovered helpless in the street +by a policeman. The only thing he can say that +has any meaning in it at all is '<i>je le nie</i>,' and +that he says mechanically, without in the least +knowing what he is saying. And he can't write. +But he got sketching and scrawling various things +on some paper, and his scrawls—together with +another thing or two—have given me an idea. +We're following it up now. When we are less busy, +and in a quiet place, I'll show you the sketches +and explain things generally; there's no time now, +and I <i>may</i> want your help for a bit, in which case +ignorance may prevent you spoiling things, you +clumsy ruffian. Hullo! here we are, I think!"</p> + +<p>We had stopped at the end of another stable-yard, +rather dirtier than the first. The stables were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +sound but inelegant sheds, and one or two appeared +to be devoted to other purposes, having low chimneys, +on one of which an old basket was rakishly set +by way of cowl. Beside the entrance a worn-out +old board was nailed, with the legend, "Stabling to +Let," in letters formerly white on a ground formerly +black.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Hewitt, "we'll explore."</p> + +<p>We picked our way over the greasy cobble-stones +and looked about us. On the left was the wall enclosing +certain back-yards, and on the right the +stables. Two doors in the middle of these were +open, and a butcher's young man, who with his +shiny bullet head would have been known for a +butcher's young man anywhere, was wiping over +the new-washed wheel of a smart butcher's cart.</p> + +<p>"Good-day," Hewitt said pleasantly to the young +man. "I notice there's some stabling to let here. +Now, where should I inquire about it?"</p> + +<p>"Jones, Whitfield Street," the young man answered, +giving the wheel a final spin. "But there's +only one little place to let now, I think, and it ain't +very grand."</p> + +<p>"Oh, which is that?"</p> + +<p>"Next but one to the street there. A chap 'ad +it for wood-choppin', but 'e chucked it. There ain't +room for more'n a donkey an' a barrow."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's a pity. We're not particular, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +want something big enough, and we don't mind paying +a fair price. Perhaps we might make an arrangement +with somebody here who has a stable?"</p> + +<p>The young man shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think so," he said doubtfully; +"they're mostly shop-people as wants all the room +theirselves. My guv'nor couldn't do nothink, I +know. These 'ere two stables ain't scarcely enough +for all 'e wants as it is. Then there's Barkett the +greengrocer 'ere next door. <i>That</i> ain't no good. +Then, next to that, there's the little place as is to +let, and at the end there's Griffith's at the butter-shop."</p> + +<p>"And those the other way?"</p> + +<p>"Well, this 'ere first one's Curtis's, Euston Road—that's +a butter-shop, too, an' 'e 'as the next after +that. The last one, up at the end—I dunno quite +whose that is. It ain't been long took, but I b'lieve +it's some foreign baker's. I ain't ever see anythink +come out of it, though; but there's a 'orse there, I +know—I seen the feed took in."</p> + +<p>Hewitt turned thoughtfully away.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he said. "I suppose we can't manage +it, then. Good-day."</p> + +<p>We walked to the street as the butcher's young +man wheeled in his cart and flung away his pail of +water.</p> + +<p>"Will you just hang about here, Brett," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +asked, "while I hurry round to the nearest iron-monger's? +I shan't be gone long. We're going to +work a little burglary. Take note if anybody comes +to that stable at the farther end."</p> + +<p>He hurried away and I waited. In a few moments +the butcher's young man shut his doors and +went whistling down the street, and in a few moments +more Hewitt appeared.</p> + +<p>"Come," he said, "there's nobody about now; +we'll lose no time. I've bought a pair of pliers and +a few nails."</p> + +<p>We re-entered the yard at the door of the last +stable. Hewitt stooped and examined the padlock. +Taking a nail in his pliers he bent it carefully +against the brick wall. Then using the nail as a +key, still held by the pliers, and working the padlock +gently in his left hand, in an astonishingly few +seconds he had released the hasp and taken off the +padlock. "I'm not altogether a bad burglar," he +remarked. "Not so bad, really."</p> + +<p>The padlock fastened a bar which, when removed, +allowed the door to be opened. Opening it, +Hewitt immediately seized a candle stuck in a bottle +which stood on a shelf, pulled me in, and closed +the door behind us.</p> + +<p>"We'll do this by candle-light," he said, as +he struck a match. "If the door were left +open it would be seen from the street. Keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +your ears open in case anybody comes down the +yard."</p> + +<p>The part of the shed that we stood in was used +as a coach-house, and was occupied by a rather +shabby tradesman's cart, the shafts of which rested +on the ground. From the stall adjoining came the +sound of the shuffling and trampling of an impatient +horse.</p> + +<p>We turned to the cart. On the name-board at +the side were painted in worn letters the words, +"Schuyler, Baker." The address, which had been +below, was painted out.</p> + +<p>Hewitt took out the pins and let down the tail board. +Within the cart was a new bed-mattress +which covered the whole surface at the bottom. I +felt it, pressed it from the top, and saw that it was +an ordinary spring mattress—perhaps rather unusually +soft in the springs. It seemed a curious thing +to keep in a baker's cart.</p> + +<p>Hewitt, who had set the candle on a convenient +shelf, plunged his arm into the farthermost recesses +of the cart and brought forth a very long +French loaf, and then another. Diving again he +produced certain loaves of the sort known as the +"plain cottage "—two sets of four each, each set +baked together in a row. "Feel this bread," said +Hewitt, and I felt it. It was stale—almost as hard +as wood.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hewitt produced a large pocket-knife, and with +what seemed to me to be superfluous care and +elaboration, cut into the top of one of the cottage +loaves. Then he inserted his fingers in the +gap he had made and firmly but slowly tore the +hard bread into two pieces. He pulled away the +crumb from within till there was nothing left but +a rather thick outer shell.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, rather to himself than to me, +"there's nothing in <i>that</i>." He lifted one of the +very long French loaves and measured it against +the interior of the cart. It had before been propped +diagonally, and now it was noticeable that it was +just a shade longer than the inside of the cart was +wide. Jammed in, in fact, it held firmly. Hewitt +produced his knife again, and divided this long +loaf in the centre; there was nothing but bread in +<i>that</i>. The horse in the stall fidgeted more than ever.</p> + +<p>"That horse hasn't been fed lately, I fancy," +Hewitt said. "We'll give the poor chap a bit of +this hay in the corner."</p> + +<p>"But," I said, "what about this bread? What +did you expect to find in it? I can't see what +you're driving at."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," Hewitt replied, "I'm driving +after something I expect to find, and close at +hand here, too. How are your nerves to-day—pretty +steady? The thing may try them."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before I could reply there was a sound of footsteps +in the yard outside, approaching. Hewitt +lifted his finger instantly for silence and whispered +hurriedly, "There's only one. If he comes <i>here</i>, we +grab him."</p> + +<p>The steps came nearer and stopped outside the +door. There was a pause, and then a slight drawing +in of breath, as of a person suddenly surprised. +At that moment the door was slightly shifted ajar +and an eye peeped in.</p> + +<p>"Catch him!" said Hewitt aloud, as we sprang +to the door. "He mustn't get away!"</p> + +<p>I had been nearer the doorway, and was first +through it. The stranger ran down the yard at his +best, but my legs were the longer, and half-way to +the street I caught him by the shoulder and swung +him round. Like lightning he whipped out a knife, +and I flung in my left instantly on the chance of +flooring him. It barely checked him, however, and +the knife swung short of my chest by no more than +two inches; but Hewitt had him by the wrist and +tripped him forward on his face. He struggled +like a wild beast, and Hewitt had to stand on his +forearm and force up his wrist till the bones were +near breaking before he dropped his knife. But +throughout the struggle the man never shouted, +called for help, nor, indeed, made the slightest +sound, and we on our part were equally silent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +It was quickly over, of course, for he was on his +face, and we were two. We dragged our prisoner +into the stable and closed the door behind us. So +far as we had seen, nobody had witnessed the capture +from the street, though, of course, we had been +too busy to be certain.</p> + +<p>"There's a set of harness hanging over at the +back," said Hewitt; "I think we'll tie him up with +the traces and reins—nothing like leather. We +don't need a gag; I know he won't shout."</p> + +<p>While I got the straps Hewitt held the prisoner +by a peculiar neck-and-wrist grip that forbade him +to move except at the peril of a snapped arm. +He had probably never been a person of pleasant +aspect, being short, strongly and squatly built, +large and ugly of feature, and wild and dirty of +hair and beard. And now, his face flushed with +struggling and smeared with mud from the stable-yard, +his nose bleeding and his forehead exhibiting +a growing bump, he looked particularly repellent. +We strapped his elbows together behind, and as he +sullenly ignored a demand for the contents of his +pockets Hewitt unceremoniously turned them out. +Helpless as he was, the man struggled to prevent +this, though, of course, ineffectually. There were +papers, tobacco, a bunch of keys, and various odds +and ends. Hewitt was glancing hastily at the +papers when, suddenly dropping them, he caught<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +the prisoner by the shoulder and pulled him +away from a partly-consumed hay-truss which +stood in a corner, and toward which he had +quietly sidled.</p> + +<p>"Keep him still," said Hewitt; "we haven't examined +this place yet." And he commenced to +pull away the hay from the corner.</p> + +<p>Presently a large piece of sackcloth was revealed, +and this being lifted left visible below it +another batch of loaves of the same sort as we +had seen in the cart. There were a dozen of them +in one square batch, and the only thing about +them that differed them from those in the cart +was their position, for the batch lay bottom +side up.</p> + +<p>"That's enough, I think," Hewitt said. "Don't +touch them, for Heaven's sake!" He picked up +the papers he had dropped. "That has saved us +a little search," he continued. "See here, Brett; +I was in the act of telling you my suspicions when +this little affair interrupted me. If you care to +look at one or two of these letters you'll see what +I should have told you. It's Anarchism and bombs, +of course. I'm about as certain as I can be that +there's a reversible dynamite bomb inside each of +those innocent loaves, though I assure you I don't +mean meddling with them now. But see here. Will +you go and bring in a four-wheeler? Bring it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +right down the yard. There's more to do, and we +mustn't attract attention."</p> + +<p>I hurried away and found the cab. The meaning +of the loaves, the cart, and the spring-mattress +was now plain. There was an Anarchist plot to +carry out a number of explosions probably simultaneously, +in different parts of the city. I had, of +course, heard much of the terrible "reversing" +bombs—those bombs which, containing a tube of +acid plugged by wadding, required no fuse, and only +needed to be inverted to be set going to explode in +a few minutes. The loaves containing these bombs +would form an effectual "blind," and they were to +be distributed, probably in broad daylight, in the +most natural manner possible, in a baker's cart. A +man would be waiting near the scene of each contemplated +explosion. He would be given a loaf +taken from the inverted batch. He would take it—perhaps +wrapped in paper, but still inverted, and +apparently the most innocent object possible—to the +spot selected, deposit it, right side up—which would +reverse the inner tube and set up the action—in +some quiet corner, behind a door or what not, and +make his own escape, while the explosion tore down +walls and—if the experiment were lucky—scattered +the flesh and bones of unsuspecting people.</p> + +<p>The infernal loaves were made and kept reversed, +to begin with, in order to stand more firmly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +and—if observed—more naturally, when turned over +to explode. Even if a child picked up the loaf and +carried it off, that child at least would be blown to +atoms, which at any rate would have been something +for the conspirators to congratulate themselves +upon. The spring-mattress, of course, was to ease +the jolting to the bombs, and obviate any random +jerking loose of the acid, which might have had the +deplorable result of sacrificing the valuable life of +the conspirator who drove the cart. The other +loaves, too, with no explosive contents, had their +use. The two long ones, which fitted across the +inside of the cart, would be jammed across so as to +hold the bombs in the centre, and the others would +be used to pack the batch on the other sides and +prevent any dangerous slipping about. The thing +seemed pretty plain, except that as yet I had no idea +of how Hewitt learned anything of the business.</p> + +<p>I brought the four-wheeler up to the door of the +stable and we thrust the man into it, and Hewitt +locked the stable door with its proper key. Then +we drove off to Tottenham Court Road police-station, +and, by Hewitt's order, straight into the yard.</p> + +<p>In less than ten minutes from our departure +from the stable our prisoner was finally secured, and +Hewitt was deep in consultation with police officials. +Messengers were sent and telegrams despatched, +and presently Hewitt came to me with information.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The name of the helpless Frenchman the police +found this morning," he said, "appears to be Gérard—at +least I am almost certain of it. Among the +papers found on the prisoner—whose full name +doesn't appear, but who seems to be spoken of as +Luigi (he is Italian)—among the papers, I say, is a +sort of notice convening a meeting for this evening +to decide as to the 'final punishment' to be awarded +the 'traitor Gérard, now in charge of comrade Pingard.'</p> + +<p>"The place of meeting is not mentioned, but it +seems more than probable that it will be at the +Bakunin Club, not five minutes' walk from this +place. The police have all these places under quiet +observation, of course, and that is the club at which +apparently important Anarchist meetings have been +held lately. It is the only club that has never been +raided as yet, and, it would seem, the only one they +would feel at all safe in using for anything important.</p> + +<p>"Moreover, Luigi just now simply declined to +open his mouth when asked where the meeting was +to be, and said nothing when the names of several +other places were suggested, but suddenly found his +tongue at the mention of the Bakunin Club, and denied +vehemently that the meeting was to be there—it +was the only thing he uttered. So that it seems +pretty safe to assume that it <i>is</i> to be there. Now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +of course, the matter's very serious. Men have +been despatched to take charge of the stable very +quietly, and the club is to be taken possession of at +once—also very quietly. It must be done without +a moment's delay, and as there is a chance that the +only detective officers within reach at the moment +may be known by sight, I have undertaken to get in +first. Perhaps you'll come? We may have to take +the door with a rush."</p> + +<p>Of course I meant to miss nothing if I could +help it, and said so.</p> + +<p>"Very well," replied Hewitt, "we'll get ourselves +up a bit." He began taking off his collar and tie. +"It is getting dusk," he proceeded, "and we shan't +want old clothes to make ourselves look sufficiently +shabby. We're both wearing bowler hats, which is +lucky. Make a dent in yours—if you can do so +without permanently damaging it."</p> + +<p>We got rid of our collars and made chokers of +our ties. We turned our coat-collars up at one side +only, and then, with dented hats worn raffishly, and +our hands in our pockets, we looked disreputable +enough for all practical purposes in twilight. A +cordon of plain-clothes police had already been +forming round the club, we were told, and so we +sallied forth. We turned into Windmill Street, +crossed Whitfield Street, and in a turning or two +we came to the Bakunin Club. I could see no sign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +of anything like a ring of policemen, and said so. +Hewitt chuckled. "Of course not," he said; "they +don't go about a job of this sort with drums beating +and flags flying. But they are all there, and some +are watching us. There is the house. I'll negotiate."</p> + +<p>The house was one of the very shabby <i>passé</i> sort +that abound in that quarter. The very narrow area +was railed over, and almost choked with rubbish. +Visible above it were three floors, the lowest indicated +by the door and one window, and the other two +by two windows each—mean and dirty all. A faint +light appeared in the top floor, and another from +somewhere behind the refuse-heaped area. Everywhere +else was in darkness. Hewitt looked intently +into the area, but it was impossible to discern anything +behind the sole grimy patch of window that +was visible. Then we stepped lightly up the three +or four steps to the door and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>We could hear slippered feet mounting a stair +and approaching. A latch was shifted, a door +opened six inches, an indistinct face appeared, and +a female voice asked, "<i>Qui est là?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Deux camarades</i>," Hewitt grunted testily. +"<i>Ouvrez vite.</i>"</p> + +<p>I had noticed that the door was kept from opening +further by a short chain. This chain the woman +unhooked from the door, but still kept the latter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +merely ajar, as though intending to assure herself +still further. But Hewitt immediately pushed the +door back, planted his foot against it, and entered, +asking carelessly as he did so, "<i>Où se trouve Luigi?</i>"</p> + +<p>I followed on his heels, and in the dark could +just distinguish that Hewitt pushed the woman instantly +against the wall and clapped his hand to her +mouth. At the same moment a file of quiet men +were suddenly visible ascending the steps at my +heels. They were the police.</p> + +<p>The door was closed behind us almost noiselessly, +and a match was struck. Two men stood at the bottom +of the stairs, and the others searched the house. +Only two men were found—both in a top room. +They were secured and brought down.</p> + +<p>The woman was now ungagged, and she used +her tongue at a great rate. One of the men was a +small, meek-looking slip of a fellow, and he appeared +to be the woman's husband. "Eh, messieurs le +police," she exclaimed vehemently, "it ees not of +'im, mon pauvre Pierre, zat you sall rrun in. 'Im +and me—we are not of the clob—we work only—we +housekeep."</p> + +<p>Hewitt whispered to an officer, and the two men +were taken below. Then Hewitt spoke to the +woman, whose protests had not ceased. "You say +you are not of the club," he said, "but what is there +to prove that? If you are but housekeepers, as you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +say, you have nothing to fear. But you can only +prove it by giving the police information. For instance, +now, about Gérard. What have they done +with him?"</p> + +<p>"Jean Pingard—'im you 'ave take downstairs—'e +'ave lose 'im. Jean Pingard get last night all +a-boosa—all dronk like zis"—she rolled her head +and shoulders to express intoxication—"and he +sleep too much to-day, when Émile go out, and +Gérard, he go too, and nobody know. I will tell +you anysing. We are not of the clob—we housekeep, +me and Pierre."</p> + +<p>"But what did they do to Gérard before he went +away?"</p> + +<p>The woman was ready and anxious to tell anything. +Gérard had been selected to do something—what +it was exactly she did not know, but there was +a horse and cart, and he was to drive it. Where the +horse and cart was also she did not know, but +Gérard had driven a cart before in his work for a +baker, and he was to drive one in connection with +some scheme among the members of the club. But +<i>le pauvre Gérard</i> at the last minute disliked to drive +the cart; he had fear. He did not say he had fear, +but he prepared a letter—a letter that was not +signed. The letter was to be sent to the police, and +it told them the whereabouts of the horse and cart, +so that the police might seize these things, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +there would be nothing for Gérard, who had fear, to +do in the way of driving. No, he did not betray the +names of the comrades, but he told the place of the +horse and the cart.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the letter was never sent. There +was suspicion, and the letter was found in a pocket +and read. Then there was a meeting, and Gérard +was confronted with his letter. He could say nothing +but "<i>Je le nie!</i>"—found no explanation but that. +There was much noise, and she had observed from +a staircase, from which one might see through a +ventilating hole, Gérard had much fear—very much +fear. His face was white, and it moved; he prayed +for mercy, and they talked of killing him. It was +discussed how he should be killed, and the poor +Gérard was more terrified. He was made to take +off his collar, and a razor was drawn across his +throat, though without cutting him, till he fainted.</p> + +<p>Then water was flung over him, and he was +struck in the face till he revived. He again repeated, +"<i>Je le nie! je le nie!</i>" and nothing more. +Then one struck him with a bottle, and another with +a stick; the point of a knife was put against his +throat and held there, but this time he did not faint, +but cried softly, as a man who is drunk, "<i>Je le nie! +je le nie!</i>" So they tied a handkerchief about his +neck, and twisted it till his face grew purple and +black, and his eyes were round and terrible, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +then they struck his face, and he fainted again. But +they took away the handkerchief, having fear that +they could not easily get rid of the body if he were +killed, for there was no preparation. So they decided +to meet again and discuss when there would +be preparation. Wherefore they took him away to +the rooms of Jean Pingard—of Jean and Émile Pingard—in +Henry Street, Golden Square. But Émile +Pingard had gone out, and Jean was drunk and +slept, and they lost him. Jean Pingard was he +downstairs—the taller of the two; the other was but +<i>le pauvre Pierre</i>, who, with herself, was not of the +club. They worked only; they were the keepers of +the house. There was nothing for which they should +be arrested, and she would give the police any +information they might ask.</p> + +<p>"As I thought, you see," Hewitt said to me, +"the man's nerves have broken down under the +terror and the strain, and aphasia is the result. I +think I told you that the only articulate thing he +could say was '<i>Je le nie!</i>' and now we know how +those words were impressed on him till he now pronounces +them mechanically, with no idea of their +meaning. Come, we can do no more here now. +But wait a moment."</p> + +<p>There were footsteps outside. The light was +removed, and a policeman went to the door and +opened it as soon as the bell rang. Three men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +stepped in one after another, and the door was +immediately shut behind them—they were prisoners.</p> + +<p>We left quietly, and although we, of course, expected +it, it was not till the next morning that we +learned absolutely that the largest arrest of Anarchists +ever made in this country was made at the +Bakunin Club that night. Each man as he came +was admitted—and collared.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>We made our way to Luzatti's, and it was over +our dinner that Hewitt put me in full possession of +the earlier facts of this case, which I have set down +as impersonal narrative in their proper place at the +beginning.</p> + +<p>"But," I said, "what of that aimless scribble you +spoke of that Gérard made in the police station? +Can I see it?"</p> + +<p>Hewitt turned to where his coat hung behind +him and took a handful of papers from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Most of these," he said, "mean nothing at all. +<i>That</i> is what he wrote at first," and he handed me +the first of the two papers which were presented in +facsimile in the earlier part of this narrative.</p> + +<p>"You see," he said, "he has begun mechanically +from long use to write 'monsieur'—the usual beginning +of a letter. But he scarcely makes three +letters before tailing off into sheer scribble. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +tries again and again, and although once there is +something very like 'que,' and once something like +a word preceded by a negative 'n,' the whole thing +is meaningless.</p> + +<p>"This" (he handed me the other paper which +has been printed in facsimile) "<i>does</i> mean something, +though Gérard never intended it. Can you +spot the meaning? Really, I think it's pretty plain—especially +now that you know as much as I about +the day's adventures. The thing at the top left-hand +corner, I may tell you, Gérard intended for a +sketch of a clock on the mantelpiece in the police-station."</p> + +<p>I stared hard at the paper, but could make +nothing whatever of it. "I only see the horse-shoe +clock," I said, "and a sort of second, unsuccessful +attempt to draw it again. Then there is a horse-shoe +dotted, but scribbled over, and then a sort of +kite or balloon on a string, a Highlander, and—well, +I don't understand it, I confess. Tell me."</p> + +<p>"I'll explain what I learned from that," Hewitt +said, "and also what led me to look for it. From +what the inspector told me, I judged the man to be in +a very curious state, and I took a fancy to see him. +Most I was curious to know why he should have a +terror of bread at one moment and eat it ravenously +at another. When I saw him I felt pretty sure +that he was not mad, in the common sense of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +term. As far as I could judge it seemed to be a +case of aphasia.</p> + +<p>"Then when the doctor came I had a chat (as I +have already told you) with the policeman who +found the man. He told me about the incident of +the bread with rather more detail than I had had +from the inspector. Thus it was plain that the man +was terrified at the bread only when it was in the +form of a loaf, and ate it eagerly when it was cut +into pieces. That was <i>one</i> thing to bear in mind. +He was not afraid of <i>bread</i>, but only of a <i>loaf</i>.</p> + +<p>"Very well. I asked the policeman to find +another uncut loaf, and to put it near the man when +his attention was diverted. Meantime the doctor +reported that my suspicion as to aphasia was right. +The man grew more comfortable, and was assured +that he was among friends and had nothing to fear, +so that when at length he found the loaf near his +elbow he was not so violently terrified, only very +uneasy. I watched him and saw him turn it bottom +up—a very curious thing to do; he immediately +became less uneasy—the turning over of the loaf +seemed to have set his mind at rest in some way. +This was more curious still. I thought for some +little while before accepting the bomb theory as the +most probable.</p> + +<p>"The doctor left, and I determined to give the +man another chance with pen and paper. I felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +pretty certain that if he were allowed to scribble +and sketch as he pleased, sooner or later he would +do something that would give me some sort of a +hint. I left him entirely alone and let him do as he +pleased, but I watched.</p> + +<p>"After all the futile scribble which you have +seen, he began to sketch, first a man's head, then a +chair—just what he might happen to see in the +room. Presently he took to the piece of paper you +have before you. He observed that clock and +began to sketch it, then went on to other things, +such as you see, scribbling idly over most of them +when finished. When he had made the last of the +sketches he made a hasty scrawl of his pen over it +and broke down. It had brought his terror to his +mind again somehow.</p> + +<p>"I seized the paper and examined it closely. +Now just see. Ignore the clock, which was merely +a sketch of a thing before him, and look at the +three things following. What are they? A horse-shoe, +a captive balloon, and a Highlander. Now, +can't you think of something those three things in +that order suggest?"</p> + +<p>I could think of nothing whatever, and I confessed +as much.</p> + +<p>"Think, now. Tottenham Court Road!"</p> + +<p>I started. "Of course," I said. "That never +struck me. There's the Horse-shoe Hotel, with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +sign outside, there's the large toy and fancy shop +half-way up, where they have a captive balloon +moored to the roof as an advertisement, and there's +the tobacco and snuff shop on the left, toward the +other end, where they have a life-size wooden Highlander +at the door—an uncommon thing, indeed, +nowadays."</p> + +<p>"You are right. The curious conjunction struck +me at once. There they are, all three, and just in +the order in which one meets them going up from +Oxford Street. Also, as if to confirm the conjecture, +note the <i>dotted</i> horse-shoe. Don't you remember +that at night the Horse-shoe Hotel sign is illuminated +by two rows of gas lights?</p> + +<p>"Now here was my clue at last. Plainly, this +man, in his mechanical sketching, was following a +regular train of thought, and unconsciously illustrating +it as he went along. Many people in perfect +health and mental soundness do the same thing if a +pen and a piece of waste paper be near. The man's +train of thought led him, in memory, up Tottenham +Court Road, and further, to where some disagreeable +recollection upset him. It was my business to +trace this train of thought. Do you remember the +feat of Dupin in Poe's story, 'The Murders in the +Rue Morgue'—how he walks by his friend's side in +silence for some distance, and then suddenly breaks +out with a divination of his thoughts, having silent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>ly +traced them from a fruiterer with a basket, +through paving-stones, Epicurus, Dr. Nichols, the +constellation Orion, and a Latin poem, to a cobbler +lately turned actor?</p> + +<p>"Well, it was some such task as this (but infinitely +simpler, as a matter of fact) that was set me. +This man begins by drawing the horse-shoe clock. +Having done with that, and with the horse-shoe still +in his mind, he starts to draw a horse-shoe simply. +It is a failure, and he scribbles it out. His mind at +once turns to the Horse-shoe Hotel, which he knows +from frequently passing it, and its sign of gas-jets. +He sketches <i>that</i>, making dots for the gas lights. +Once started in Tottenham Court Road, his mind +naturally follows his usual route along it. He +remembers the advertising captive balloon half-way +up, and down <i>that</i> goes on his paper. In +imagination he crosses the road, and keeps on +till he comes to the very noticeable Highlander +outside the tobacconist's. <i>That</i> is sketched. Thus +it is plain that a familiar route with him was +from New Oxford Street up Tottenham Court +Road.</p> + +<p>"At the police-station I ventured to guess from +this that he lived somewhere near Seven Dials. Perhaps +before long we shall know if this was right. +But to return to the sketches. After the Highlander +there is something at first not very distinct.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +A little examination, however, shows it to be intended +for a chimney-pot partly covered with a +basket. Now an old basket, stuck sideways on a +chimney by way of cowl, is not an uncommon thing +in parts of the country, but it is very unusual in +London. Probably, then, it would be in some by-street +or alley. Next and last, there is a horse's +head, and it was at this that the man's trouble returned +to him.</p> + +<p>"Now, when one goes to a place and finds a +horse there, that place is not uncommonly a stable; +and, as a matter of fact, the basket-cowl would +be much more likely to be found in use in a +range of back stabling than anywhere else. Suppose, +then, that after taking the direction indicated +in the sketches—the direction of Fitzroy +Square, in fact—one were to find a range +of stabling with a basket-cowl visible about it? +I know my London pretty well, as you are aware, +and I could remember but two likely stable-yards +in that particular part—the two we looked at, in +the second of which you may possibly have noticed +just such a basket-cowl as I have been speaking +of.</p> + +<p>"Well, what we did you know, and that we found +confirmation of my conjecture about the loaves you +also know. It was the recollection of the horse and +cart, and what they were to transport, and what the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +end of it all had been, that upset Gérard as he drew +the horse's head. You will notice that the sketches +have not been done in separate rows, left to right—they +have simply followed one another all round +the paper, which means preoccupation and unconsciousness +on the part of the man who made +them."</p> + +<p>"But," I asked, "supposing those loaves to contain +bombs, how were the bombs put there? Baking +the bread round them would have been risky, +wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. What they did was to cut the +loaves, each row, down the centre. Then most of the +crumb was scooped out, the explosive inserted, and +the sides joined up and glued. I thought you had +spotted the joins, though they certainly were +neat."</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't examine closely. Luigi, of course, +had been told off for a daily visit to feed the horse, +and that is how we caught him."</p> + +<p>"One supposes so. They hadn't rearranged +their plans as to going on with the outrages after +Gérard's defection. By the way, I noticed that he +was accustomed to driving when I first saw him. +There was an unmistakable mark on his coat, just at +the small of the back, that drivers get who lean +against a rail in a cart."</p> + +<p>The loaves were examined by official experts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +and, as everybody now knows, were found to contain, +as Hewitt had supposed, large charges of +dynamite. What became of some half-dozen of the +men captured is also well known: their sentences +were exemplary.</p> + +<p class="center"> +<br /> +<br /> +THE END.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + +<h2>APPLETONS' TOWN AND COUNTRY LIBRARY.</h2> + +<p class="center">PUBLISHED SEMIMONTHLY.</p> + + +<p> +1. <i>The Steel Hammer.</i> By <span class="smcap">Louis Ulbach</span>.<br /> +2. <i>Eve.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">S. Baring-Gould</span>.<br /> +3. <i>For Fifteen Years.</i> A Sequel to The Steel Hammer. By <span class="smcap">Louis Ulbach</span>.<br /> +4. <i>A Counsel of Perfection.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Lucas Malet</span>.<br /> +5. <i>The Deemster.</i> A Romance. By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>.<br /> +5½. <i>The Bondman.</i> (New edition.) By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>.<br /> +6. <i>A Virginia Inheritance.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edmund Pendleton</span>.<br /> +7. <i>Ninette</i>: An Idyll of Provence. By the author of Véra.<br /> +8. "<i>The Right Honourable.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Justin McCarthy</span> and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell-Praed</span>.<br /> +9. <i>The Silence of Dean Maitland.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>.<br /> +10. <i>Mrs. Lorimer</i>: A Study in Black and White. By <span class="smcap">Lucas Malet</span>.<br /> +11. <i>The Elect Lady.</i> By <span class="smcap">George MacDonald</span>.<br /> +12. <i>The Mystery of the "Ocean Star."</i> By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>.<br /> +13. <i>Aristocracy.</i> A Novel.<br /> +14. <i>A Recoiling Vengeance.</i> By <span class="smcap">Frank Barrett</span>. With Illustrations.<br /> +15. <i>The Secret of Fontaine-la-Croix.</i> By <span class="smcap">Margaret Field</span>.<br /> +16. <i>The Master of Rathkelly.</i> By <span class="smcap">Hawley Smart</span>.<br /> +17. <i>Donovan</i>: A Modern Englishman. By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +18. <i>This Mortal Coil.</i> By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span>.<br /> +19. <i>A Fair Emigrant.</i> By <span class="smcap">Rosa Mulholland</span>.<br /> +20. <i>The Apostate.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ernest Daudet</span>.<br /> +21. <i>Raleigh Westgate</i>; or, Epimenides in Maine. By <span class="smcap">Helen Kendrick Johnson</span>.<br /> +22. <i>Arius the Libyan.</i> A Romance of the Primitive Church.<br /> +23. <i>Constance</i>, and <i>Calbot's Rival</i>. By <span class="smcap">Julian Hawthorne</span>.<br /> +24. <i>We Two.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +25. <i>A Dreamer of Dreams.</i> By the author of Thoth.<br /> +26. <i>The Ladies' Gallery.</i> By <span class="smcap">Justin McCarthy</span> and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell-Praed</span>.<br /> +27. <i>The Reproach of Annesley.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>.<br /> +28. <i>Near to Happiness.</i><br /> +29. <i>In the Wire Grass.</i> By <span class="smcap">Louis Pendleton</span>.<br /> +30. <i>Lace.</i> A Berlin Romance. By <span class="smcap">Paul Lindau</span>.<br /> +30½. <i>The Black Poodle.</i> By <span class="smcap">F. Anstey</span>.<br /> +31. <i>American Coin.</i> A Novel. By the author of Aristocracy.<br /> +32. <i>Won by Waiting.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +33. <i>The Story of Helen Davenant.</i> By <span class="smcap">Violet Fane</span>.<br /> +34. <i>The Light of Her Countenance.</i> By <span class="smcap">H. H. Boyesen</span>.<br /> +35. <i>Mistress Beatrice Cope.</i> By <span class="smcap">M. E. Le Clerc</span>.<br /> +36. <i>The Knight-Errant.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +37. <i>In the Golden Days.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +38. <i>Giraldi</i>; or, The Curse of Love. By <span class="smcap">Ross George Dering</span>.<br /> +39. <i>A Hardy Norseman.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edna Lyall</span>.<br /> +40. <i>The Romance of Jenny Harlowe</i>, and <i>Sketches of Maritime Life</i>. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>.<br /> +41. <i>Passion's Slave.</i> By <span class="smcap">Richard Ashe-King</span>.<br /> +42. <i>The Awakening of Mary Fenwick.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +43. <i>Countess Loretey.</i> Translated from the German of <span class="smcap">Rudolf Menger</span>.<br /> +44. <i>Blind Love.</i> By <span class="smcap">Wilkie Collins</span>.<br /> +45. <i>The Dean's Daughter.</i> By <span class="smcap">Sophie F. F. Veitch</span>.<br /> +46. <i>Countess Irene.</i> A Romance of Austrian Life. By <span class="smcap">J. Fogerty</span>.<br /> +47. <i>Robert Browning's Principal Shorter Poems.</i><br /> +48. <i>Frozen Hearts.</i> By <span class="smcap">G. Webb Appleton</span>.<br /> +49. <i>Djambek the Georgian.</i> By <span class="smcap">A. G. von Suttner</span>.<br /> +50. <i>The Craze of Christian Engelhart.</i> By <span class="smcap">Henry Faulkner Darnell</span>.<br /> +51. <i>Lal.</i> By <span class="smcap">William A. Hammond</span>, M. D.<br /> +52. <i>Aline.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Henry Gréville</span>.<br /> +53. <i>Joost Avelingh.</i> A Dutch Story. By <span class="smcap">Maarten Maartens</span>.<br /> +54. <i>Katy of Catoctin.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Alfred Townsend</span>.<br /> +55. <i>Throckmorton.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>.<br /> +56. <i>Expatriation.</i> By the author of Aristocracy.<br /> +57. <i>Geoffrey Hampstead.</i> By <span class="smcap">T. S. Jarvis</span>.<br /> +58. <i>Dmitri.</i> A Romance of Old Russia. By <span class="smcap">F. W. Bain</span>, M. A.<br /> +59. <i>Part of the Property.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +60. <i>Bismarck in Private Life.</i> By a Fellow-Student.<br /> +61. <i>In Low Relief.</i> By <span class="smcap">Morley Roberts</span>.<br /> +62. <i>The Canadians of Old.</i> A Historical Romance. By <span class="smcap">Philippe Gaspé</span>.<br /> +63. <i>A Squire of Low Degree.</i> By <span class="smcap">Lily A. Long</span>.<br /> +64. <i>A Fluttered Dovecote.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Manville Fenn</span>.<br /> +65. <i>The Nugents of Carriconna.</i> An Irish Story. By <span class="smcap">Tighe Hopkins</span>.<br /> +66. <i>A Sensitive Plant.</i> By <span class="smcap">E.</span> and <span class="smcap">D. Gerard</span>.<br /> +67. <i>Doña Luz.</i> By <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>. Translated by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mary J. Serrano</span>.<br /> +68. <i>Pepita Ximenez.</i> By <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>. Translated by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mary J. Serrano</span>.<br /> +69. <i>The Primes and their Neighbors.</i> By <span class="smcap">Richard Malcolm Johnston</span>.<br /> +70. <i>The Iron Game.</i> By <span class="smcap">Henry F. Keenan</span>.<br /> +71. <i>Stories of Old New Spain.</i> By <span class="smcap">Thomas A. Janvier</span>.<br /> +72. <i>The Maid of Honor.</i> By Hon. <span class="smcap">Lewis Wingfield</span>.<br /> +73. <i>In the Heart of the Storm.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>.<br /> +74. <i>Consequences.</i> By <span class="smcap">Egerton Castle</span>.<br /> +75. <i>The Three Miss Kings.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +76. <i>A Matter of Skill.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +77. <i>Maid Marian, and Other Stories.</i> By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>.<br /> +78. <i>One Woman's Way.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edmund Pendleton</span>.<br /> +79. <i>A Merciful Divorce.</i> By <span class="smcap">F. W. Maude</span>.<br /> +80. <i>Stephen Ellicot's Daughter.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">J. H. Needell</span>.<br /> +81. <i>One Reason Why.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +82. <i>The Tragedy of Ida Noble.</i> By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>.<br /> +83. <i>The Johnstown Stage, and other Stories.</i> By <span class="smcap">Robert H. Fletcher</span>.<br /> +84. <i>A Widower Indeed.</i> By <span class="smcap">Rhoda Broughton</span> and <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Lisland</span>.<br /> +85. <i>The Flight of a Shadow.</i> By <span class="smcap">George MacDonald</span>.<br /> +86. <i>Love or Money.</i> By <span class="smcap">Katharine Lee</span>.<br /> +87. <i>Not All in Vain.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +88. <i>It Happened Yesterday.</i> By <span class="smcap">Frederick Marshall</span>.<br /> +89. <i>My Guardian.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +90. <i>The Story of Philip Methuen.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">J. H. Needell</span>.<br /> +91. <i>Amethyst</i>: The Story of a Beauty. By <span class="smcap">Christabel R. Coleridge</span>.<br /> +92. <i>Don Braulio.</i> By <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>.<br /> +93. <i>The Chronicles of Mr. Bill Williams.</i> By <span class="smcap">Richard Malcolm Johnston</span>.<br /> +94. <i>A Queen of Curds and Cream.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +95. <i>"La Bella" and Others.</i> By <span class="smcap">Egerton Castle</span>.<br /> +96. "<i>December Roses.</i>" By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell Praed</span>.<br /> +97. <i>Jean de Kerdren.</i> By <span class="smcap">Jeanne Schultz</span>.<br /> +98. <i>Etelka's Vow.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +99. <i>Cross Currents.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mary A. Dickens</span>.<br /> +100. <i>His Life's Magnet.</i> By <span class="smcap">Theodora Elmslie</span>.<br /> +101. <i>Passing the Love of Women.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">J. H. Needell</span>.<br /> +102. <i>In Old St. Stephen's.</i> By <span class="smcap">Jeanie Drake</span>.<br /> +103. <i>The Berkeleys and their Neighbors.</i> By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>.<br /> +104. <i>Mona Maclean, Medical Student.</i> By <span class="smcap">Graham Travers</span>.<br /> +105. <i>Mrs. Bligh.</i> By <span class="smcap">Rhoda Broughton</span>.<br /> +106. <i>A Stumble on the Threshold.</i> By <span class="smcap">James Payn</span>.<br /> +107. <i>Hanging Moss.</i> By <span class="smcap">Paul Lindau</span>.<br /> +108. <i>A Comedy of Elopement.</i> By <span class="smcap">Christian Reid</span>.<br /> +109. <i>In the Suntime of her Youth.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +110. <i>Stories in Black and White.</i> By <span class="smcap">Thomas Hardy</span> and Others.<br /> +110½. <i>An Englishman in Paris.</i> Notes and Recollections.<br /> +111. <i>Commander Mendoza.</i> By <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>.<br /> +112. <i>Dr. Paull's Theory.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">A. M. Diehl</span>.<br /> +113. <i>Children of Destiny.</i> By <span class="smcap">Molly Elliot Seawell</span>.<br /> +114. <i>A Little Minx.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +115. <i>Capt'n Davy's Honeymoon.</i> By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>.<br /> +116. <i>The Voice of a Flower.</i> By <span class="smcap">E. Gerard</span>.<br /> +117. <i>Singularly Deluded.</i> By <span class="smcap">Sarah Grand</span>.<br /> +118. <i>Suspected.</i> By <span class="smcap">Louisa Stratenus</span>.<br /> +119. <i>Lucia, Hugh, and Another.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">J. H. Needell</span>.<br /> +120. <i>The Tutor's Secret.</i> By <span class="smcap">Victor Cherbuliez</span>.<br /> +121. <i>From the Five Rivers.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">F. A. Steel</span>.<br /> +122. <i>An Innocent Impostor, and Other Stories.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>.<br /> +123. <i>Ideala.</i> By <span class="smcap">Sarah Grand</span>.<br /> +124. <i>A Comedy of Masks.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ernest Dowson</span> and <span class="smcap">Arthur Moore</span>.<br /> +125. <i>Relics.</i> By <span class="smcap">Frances MacNab</span>.<br /> +126. <i>Dodo: A Detail of the Day.</i> By <span class="smcap">E. F. Benson</span>.<br /> +127. <i>A Woman of Forty.</i> By <span class="smcap">Esmè Stuart</span>.<br /> +128. <i>Diana Tempest.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mary Cholmondeley</span>.<br /> +129. <i>The Recipe for Diamonds.</i> By <span class="smcap">C. J. Cutcliffe Hyne</span>.<br /> +130. <i>Christina Chard.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell-Praed</span>.<br /> +131. <i>A Gray Eye or So.</i> By <span class="smcap">Frank Frankfort Moore</span>.<br /> +132. <i>Earlscourt.</i> By <span class="smcap">Alexander Allardyce</span>.<br /> +133. <i>A Marriage Ceremony.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +134. <i>A Ward in Chancery.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Alexander</span>.<br /> +135. <i>Lot 13.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +136. <i>Our Manifold Nature.</i> By <span class="smcap">Sarah Grand</span>.<br /> +137. <i>A Costly Freak.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>.<br /> +138. <i>A Beginner</i>. By <span class="smcap">Rhoda Broughton</span>.<br /> +139. <i>A Yellow Aster.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mannington Caffyn</span> ("<span class="smcap">Iota</span>").<br /> +140. <i>The Rubicon.</i> By <span class="smcap">E. F. Benson</span>.<br /> +141. <i>The Trespasser.</i> By <span class="smcap">Gilbert Parker</span>.<br /> +142. <i>The Rich Miss Riddell.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +143. <i>Mary Fenwick's Daughter.</i> By <span class="smcap">Beatrice Whitby</span>.<br /> +144. <i>Red Diamonds.</i> By <span class="smcap">Justin McCarthy</span>.<br /> +145. <i>A Daughter of Music.</i> By <span class="smcap">G. Colmore</span>.<br /> +146. <i>Outlaw and Lawmaker.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell-Praed</span>.<br /> +147. <i>Dr. Janet of Harley Street.</i> By <span class="smcap">Arabella Kenealy</span>.<br /> +148. <i>George Mandeville's Husband.</i> By <span class="smcap">C. E. Raimond</span>.<br /> +149. <i>Vashti and Esther.</i><br /> +150. <i>Timar's Two Worlds.</i> By <span class="smcap">M. Jokai</span>.<br /> +151. <i>A Victim of Good Luck.</i> By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>.<br /> +152. <i>The Trail of the Sword.</i> By <span class="smcap">Gilbert Parker</span>.<br /> +153. <i>A Mild Barbarian.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edgar Fawcett</span>.<br /> +154. <i>The God in the Car.</i> By <span class="smcap">Anthony Hope</span>.<br /> +155. <i>Children of Circumstance.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">M. Caffyn</span>.<br /> +156. <i>At the Gate of Samaria.</i> By <span class="smcap">William J. Locke</span>.<br /> +157. <i>The Justification of Andrew Lebrun.</i> By <span class="smcap">Frank Barrett</span>.<br /> +158. <i>Dust and Laurels.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mary L. Pendered</span>.<br /> +159. <i>The Good Ship Mohock.</i> By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>.<br /> +160. <i>Noémi.</i> By S. <span class="smcap">Baring-Gould</span>.<br /> +161. <i>The Honour of Savelli.</i> By <span class="smcap">S. Levett Yeats</span>.<br /> +162. <i>Kitty's Engagement.</i> By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>.<br /> +163. <i>The Mermaid.</i> By <span class="smcap">L. Dougall</span>.<br /> +164. <i>An Arranged Marriage.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +165. <i>Eve's Ransom.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Gissing</span>.<br /> +166. <i>The Marriage of Esther.</i> By <span class="smcap">Guy Boothry</span>.<br /> +167. <i>Fidelis.</i> By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>.<br /> +168. <i>Into the Highways and Hedges.</i> By <span class="smcap">F. F. Montrésor</span>.<br /> +169. <i>The Vengeance of James Vansittart.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">J. H. Needell</span>.<br /> +170. <i>A Study in Prejudices.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Paston</span>.<br /> +171. <i>The Mistress of Quest.</i> By <span class="smcap">Adeline Sergeant</span>.<br /> +172. <i>In the Year of Jubilee.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Gissing</span>.<br /> +173. <i>In Old New England.</i> By <span class="smcap">Hezekiah Butterworth</span>.<br /> +174. <i>Mrs. Musgrave—and Her Husband.</i> By <span class="smcap">R. Marsh</span>.<br /> +175. <i>Not Counting the Cost.</i> By <span class="smcap">Tasma</span>.<br /> +176. <i>Out of Due Season.</i> By <span class="smcap">Adeline Sergeant</span>.<br /> +177. <i>Scylla or Charybdis?</i> By <span class="smcap">Rhoda Broughton</span>.<br /> +178. <i>In Defiance of the King.</i> By <span class="smcap">C. C. Hotchkiss</span>.<br /> +179. <i>A Bid for Fortune.</i> By <span class="smcap">Guy Boothby</span>.<br /> +180. <i>The King of Andaman.</i> By <span class="smcap">J. Maclaren Cobban</span>.<br /> +181. <i>Mrs. Tregaskiss</i>. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Campbell-Praed</span>.<br /> +182. <i>The Desire of the Moth.</i> By <span class="smcap">Capel Vane</span>.<br /> +183. <i>A Self-Denying Ordinance.</i> By <span class="smcap">M. Hamilton</span>.<br /> +184. <i>Successors to the Title.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mrs. L. B. Walford</span>.<br /> +185. <i>The Lost Stradivarius.</i> By <span class="smcap">J. Meade Falkner</span>.<br /> +186. <i>The Wrong Man.</i> By <span class="smcap">Dorothea Gerard</span>.<br /> +187. <i>In the Day of Adversity.</i> By <span class="smcap">J. Bloundelle-Burton</span>.<br /> +188. <i>Mistress Dorothy Marvin.</i> By <span class="smcap">J. C. Snaith</span>.<br /> +189. <i>A Flash of Summer.</i> By Mrs. <span class="smcap">W. K. Clifford</span>.<br /> +</p> +<p class="center">Each, 12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; cloth, $1,00.<br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<h2>GEORG EBERS'S ROMANCES.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Each, 16mo, paper, 40 cents per volume; cloth, 75 cents.<br /> +Sets of 24 volumes, cloth, in box, $18.00.</i></p> + +<p> +<b>In the Blue Pike.</b> A Romance of German Life in the early Sixteenth Century. +Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>In the Fire of the Forge.</b> A Romance of Old Nuremberg. Translated by +<span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>Cleopatra.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>A Thorny Path.</b> (<span class="smcap">Per Aspera.</span>) Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>An Egyptian Princess.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Eleanor Grove</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>Uarda.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>Homo Sum.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>The Sisters.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>A Question.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>The Emperor.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>The Burgomaster's Wife.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>A Word, only a Word.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>Serapie.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>The Bride of the Nile.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>Margery.</b> (<span class="smcap">Gred.</span>) Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. 2 volumes.<br /> +<b>Joshua.</b> Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary J. Safford</span>. 1 volume.<br /> +<b>The Elixir, and Other Tales.</b> Translated by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Edward H. Bell</span>. +With Portrait of the Author. 1 volume.<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Dr. Ebers's romances founded on ancient history are hardly equaled by any +other living author.... He makes the men and women and the scenes move +before the reader with living reality."—<i>Boston Home Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"Georg Ebers writes stories of ancient times with the conscientiousness of a +true investigator. His tales are so carefully told that large portions of them +might be clipped or quoted by editors of guide-books and authors of histories intended +to be popular."—<i>New York Herald.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"><i>For sale by all booksellers; or sent by mail on receipt of price by the publishers.</i><br /> + +<b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> A. CONAN DOYLE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD. +A Romance of the Life of a Typical Napoleonic Soldier.</i> Illustrated. +12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>There is a flavor of Dumas's Musketeers in the life of the redoubtable Brigadier +Gerard, a typical Napoleonic soldier, more fortunate than many of his compeers because +some of his Homeric exploits were accomplished under the personal observation of the +Emperor. His delightfully romantic career included an oddly characteristic glimpse +of England, and his adventures ranged from the battlefield to secret service. In picturing +the experiences of his fearless, hard-fighting and hard-drinking hero, the author +of "The White Company" has given us a book which absorbs the interest and +quickens the pulse of every reader.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS.</i> Being a +Series of Twelve Letters written by <span class="smcap">Stark Munro</span>, M. B., +to his friend and former fellow-student, Herbert Swanborough, +of Lowell, Massachusetts, during the years 1881-1884. Illustrated. +12mo. Buckram, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Cullingworth, ... a much more interesting creation than Sherlock Holmes, +and I pray Dr. Doyle to give us more of him."—<i>Richard le Gallienne, in the London +Star.</i></p> + +<p>"Every one who wants a hearty laugh must make acquaintance with Dr. James +Cullingworth."—<i>Westminster Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"Every one must read; for not to know Cullingworth should surely argue one's +self to be unknown."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the freshest figures to be met with in any recent fiction."—<i>London Daily +News.</i></p> + +<p>"'The Stark Munro Letters' is a bit of real literature.... Its reading will be an +epoch-making event in many a life."—<i>Philadelphia Evening Telegraph.</i></p> + +<p>"Positively magnetic, and written with that combined force and grace for which the +author's style is known."—<i>Boston Budget.</i></p> + + + + +<blockquote><p class="center"><span class="smcap">Seventh Edition.</span></p> + +<p><i>ROUND THE RED LAMP.</i> Being Facts and +Fancies of Medical Life. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Too much can not be said in praise of these strong productions, that, to read, +keep one's heart leaping to the throat and the mind in a tumult of anticipation to the +end.... No series of short stories in modern literature can approach them."—<i>Hartford +Times.</i></p> + +<p>"If Mr. A. Conan Doyle had not already placed himself in the front rank of living +English writers by 'The Refugees,' and other of his larger stories, he would surely do +so by these fifteen short tales."—<i>New York Mail and Express.</i></p> + +<p>"A strikingly realistic and decidedly original contribution to modern literature."—<i>Boston +Saturday Evening Gazette.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>BY S. R. CROCKETT.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>CLEG KELLY, ARAB OF THE CITY. His +Progress and Adventures.</i> Uniform with "The Lilac Sunbonnet" +and "Bog-Myrtle and Peat." Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is safe to predict for the quaint and delightful figure of Cleg Kelly a +notable place in the literature of the day. Mr. Crockett's signal success in +his new field will enlarge the wide circle of his admirers. The lights and +shadows of curious phases of Edinburgh life, and of Scotch farm and railroad +life, are pictured with an intimate sympathy, richness of humor, and +truthful pathos which make this new novel a genuine addition to literature. +It seems safe to say that at least two characters—Cleg and Muckle Alick—are +likely to lead Mr. Crockett's heroes in popular favor. The illustrations of +this fascinating novel have been the result of most faithful and sympathetic +study.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>BOG-MYRTLE AND PEAT.</i> Third edition. +12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Here are idyls, epics, dramas of human life, written in words that thrill and +burn.... Each is a poem that has an immortal flavor. They are fragments of the +author's early dreams, too bright, too gorgeous, too full of the blood of rubies and the +life of diamonds to be caught and held palpitating in expression's grasp."—<i>Boston +Courier.</i></p> + +<p>"Hardly a sketch among them all that will not afford pleasure to the reader for its +genial humor, artistic local coloring, and admirable portrayal of character."—<i>Boston +Home Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"One dips into the book anywhere and reads on and on, fascinated by the writer's +charm of manner."—<i>Minneapolis Tribune.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE LILAC SUNBONNET.</i> Sixth edition. +12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A love story pure and simple, one of the old-fashioned, wholesome, sunshiny +kind, with a pure-minded, sound-hearted hero, and a heroine who is merely a good and +beautiful woman; and if any other love story half so sweet has been written this year, +it has escaped our notice."—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + +<p>"The general conception of the story, the motive of which is the growth of love +between the young chief and heroine, is delineated with a sweetness and a freshness, +a naturalness and a certainty, which places 'The Lilac Sunbonnet' among the best +stories of the time."—<i>New York Mail and Express.</i></p> + +<p>"In its own line this little love story can hardly be excelled. It is a pastoral, an +idyl—the story of love and courtship and marriage of a fine young man and a lovely +girl—no more. But it is told in so thoroughly delightful a manner, with such playful +humor, such delicate fancy, such true and sympathetic feeling, that nothing more could +be desired."—<i>Boston Traveller.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + + +<h3>GILBERT PARKER'S BEST BOOKS.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY.</i> Being the +Memoirs of Captain <span class="smcap">Robert Moray</span>, sometime an Officer in +the Virginia Regiment, and afterward of Amherst's Regiment. +12mo. Cloth, illustrated, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>For the time of his story Mr. Parker has chosen the most absorbing period +of the romantic eighteenth-century history of Quebec. The curtain rises soon +after General Braddock's defeat in Virginia, and the hero, a prisoner in Quebec, +curiously entangled in the intrigues of La Pompadour, becomes a part +of a strange history, full of adventure and the stress of peril, which culminates +only after Wolfe's victory over Montcalm. The material offered by the life +and history of old Quebec has never been utilized for the purposes of fiction +with the command of plot and incident, the mastery of local color, and the +splendid realization of dramatic situations shown in this distinguished and +moving romance. The illustrations preserve the atmosphere of the text, for +they present the famous buildings, gates, and battle grounds as they appeared +at the time of the hero's imprisonment in Quebec.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD.</i> A Novel. +12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Mr. Parker here adds to a reputation already wide, and anew demonstrates his +power of pictorial portrayal and of strong dramatic situation and climax."—<i>Philadelphia +Bulletin.</i></p> + +<p>"The tale holds the reader's interest from first to last, for it is full of fire and spirit, +abounding in incident, and marked by good character drawing."—<i>Pittsburg Times.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE TRESPASSER.</i> 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; +cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Interest, pith, force and charm—Mr. Parker's new story possesses all these +qualities.... Almost bare of synthetical decoration, his paragraphs are stirring because +they are real. We read at times—as we have read the great masters of romance—breathlessly."—<i>The +Critic.</i></p> + +<p>"Gilbert Parker writes a strong novel, but thus far this is his masterpiece.... It +is one of the great novels of the year."—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.</i> 16mo. +Flexible cloth, 75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A book which no one will be satisfied to put down until the end has been matter +of certainty and assurance."—<i>The Nation.</i></p> + +<p>"A story of remarkable interest, originality, and ingenuity of construction."—<i>Boston +Home Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"The perusal of this romance will repay those who care for new and original types +of character, and who are susceptible to the fascination of a fresh and vigorous style."—<i>London +Daily News.</i></p> + + + + + +<blockquote> +<p class="center"><b>"A better book than 'The Prisoner of Zenda.'"</b>—<i>London Queen.</i></p> +<p><i>THE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO.</i> +By <span class="smcap">Anthony Hope</span>, author of "The God in the Car," "The +Prisoner of Zenda," etc. With photogravure Frontispiece by +S. W. Van Schaick. Third edition. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"No adventures were ever better worth recounting than are those of Antonio of +Monte Velluto, a very Bayard among outlaws.... To all those whose pulses still stir +at the recital of deeds of high courage, we may recommend this book.... The chronicle +conveys the emotion of heroic adventure, and is picturesquely written."—<i>London +Daily News.</i></p> + +<p>"It has literary merits all its own, of a deliberate and rather deep order.... In +point of execution 'The Chronicles of Count Antonio' is the best work that Mr. Hope +has yet done. The design is clearer, the workmanship more elaborate, the style more +colored.... The incidents are most ingenious, they are told quietly, but with great +cunning, and the Quixotic sentiment which pervades it all is exceedingly pleasant."—<i>Westminster +Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"A romance worthy of all the expectations raised by the brilliancy of his former +books, and likely to be read with a keen enjoyment and a healthy exaltation of the +spirits by every one who takes it up."—<i>The Scotsman.</i></p> + +<p>"A gallant tale, written with unfailing freshness and spirit."—<i>London Daily +Telegraph.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the most fascinating romances written in English within many days. The +quaint simplicity of its style is delightful, and the adventures recorded in these 'Chronicles +of Count Antonio' are as stirring and ingenious as any conceived even by Weyman +at his best."—<i>New York World.</i></p> + +<p>"Romance of the real flavor, wholly and entirely romance, and narrated in true romantic +style. The characters, drawn with such masterly handling, are not merely pictures +and portraits, but statues that are alive and step boldly forward from the canvas."—<i>Boston +Courier.</i></p> + +<p>"Told in a wonderfully simple and direct style, and with the magic touch of a man +who has the genius of narrative, making the varied incidents flow naturally and rapidly +in a stream of sparkling discourse."—<i>Detroit Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>"Easily ranks with, if not above, 'A Prisoner of Zenda.' ... Wonderfully strong, +graphic, and compels the interest of the most <i>blasé</i> novel reader."—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>"No adventures were ever better worth telling than those of Count Antonio.... +The author knows full well how to make every pulse thrill, and how to hold his readers +under the spell of his magic."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>"A book to make women weep proud tears, and the blood of men to tingle with +knightly fervor.... In 'Count Antonio' we think Mr. Hope surpasses himself, as he +has already surpassed all the other story-tellers of the period."—<i>New York Spirit of +the Times.</i></p> + + +<blockquote><p><i>THE ONE WHO LOOKED ON.</i> By <span class="smcap">F. F. Montrésor</span>, +author of "Into the Highways and Hedges." 16mo. +Cloth, special binding, $1.25.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"The story runs on as smoothly as a brook through lowlands; it excites your interest +at the beginning and keeps it to the end."—<i>New York Herald.</i></p> + +<p>"An exquisite story.... No person sensitive to the influence of what makes for the +true, the lovely, and the strong in human friendship and the real in life's work can read +this book without being benefited by it."—<i>Buffalo Commercial.</i></p> + +<p>"The book has universal interest and very unusual merit.... Aside from its +subtle poetic charm, the book is a noble example of the power of keen observation."—<i>Boston +Herald.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>CORRUPTION.</i> By <span class="smcap">Percy White</span>, author of "Mr. +Bailey-Martin," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"There is intrigue enough in it for those who love a story of the ordinary kind, and +the political part is perhaps more attractive in its sparkle and variety of incident than +the real thing itself."—<i>London Daily News.</i></p> + +<p>"A drama of biting intensity, a tragedy of inflexible purpose and relentless result."—<i>Pall +Mall Gazette.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>A HARD WOMAN.</i> A Story in Scenes. By <span class="smcap">Violet +Hunt</span>. 12mo. Cloth, $1.25.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"An extremely clever work. Miss Hunt probably writes dialogue better than any +of our young novelists.... Not only are her conversations wonderfully vivacious and +sustained, but she contrives to assign to each of her characters a distinct mode of +speech, so that the reader easily identifies them, and can follow the conversations without +the slightest difficulty."—<i>London Athenæum.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the best writers of dialogue of our immediate day. The conversations in +this book will enhance her already secure reputation."—<i>London Daily Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>"A creation that does Miss Hunt infinite credit, and places her in the front rank of +the younger novelists.... Brilliantly drawn, quivering with life, adroit, quiet-witted, +unfalteringly insolent, and withal strangely magnetic."—<i>London Standard.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>AN IMAGINATIVE MAN.</i> By <span class="smcap">Robert S. +Hichens</span>, author of "The Green Carnation." 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"One of the brightest books of the year."—<i>Boston Budget.</i></p> + +<p>"Altogether delightful, fascinating, unusual."—<i>Cleveland Amusement Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"A study in character.... Just as entertaining as though it were the conventional +story of love and marriage. The clever hand of the author of 'The Green +Carnation' is easily detected in the caustic wit and pointed epigram."—<i>Jeannette L. +Gilder, in the New York World.</i></p> + + +<blockquote><p><i>A STREET IN SUBURBIA.</i> By <span class="smcap">Edwin Pugh</span>. +12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Simplicity of style, strength, and delicacy of character study will mark this book +as one of the most significant of the year."—<i>New York Press.</i></p> + +<p>"Thoroughly entertaining, and more—it shows traces of a creative genius something +akin to Dickens."—<i>Boston Traveller.</i></p> + +<p>"In many respects the best of all the books of lighter literature brought out this +season."—<i>Providence News.</i></p> + +<p>"Highly pleasing and gracefully recorded reminiscences of early suburban life +and youthful experience told in a congenial spirit and in very charming prose."—<i>Boston +Courier.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>MAJESTY.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Louis Couperus</span>. Translated +by <span class="smcap">A. Teixeira de Mattos</span> and <span class="smcap">Ernest Dowson</span>. +12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"There have been many workers among novelists in the field of royal portraiture, +but it may be safely stated that few of those who have essayed this dubious path have +achieved more striking results than M. Couperus. 'Majesty' is an extraordinarily +vivid romance of autocratic imperialism."—<i>London Academy.</i></p> + +<p>"No novelist whom we can call to mind has ever given the world such a masterpiece +of royal portraiture as Louis Couperus's striking romance entitled 'Majesty.'"—<i>Philadelphia +Record.</i></p> + +<p>"There is not an uninteresting page in the book, and it ought to be read by all +who desire to keep in line with the best that is published in modern fiction."—<i>Buffalo +Commercial.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE NEW MOON.</i> By <span class="smcap">C. E. Raimond</span>, author +of "George Mandeville's Husband," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A delicate pathos makes itself felt as the narrative progresses, whose cadences +fall on the spirit's consciousness with a sweet and soothing influence not to be measured +in words."—<i>Boston Courier.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the most impressive of recent works of fiction, both for its matter and +especially for its presentation."—<i>Milwaukee Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"An intensely interesting story. A curious interweaving of old superstitions which +govern a nervous woman's selfish life, and the brisk, modern ways of a wholesome +English girl."—<i>Philadelphia Ledger.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE WISH.</i> A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Hermann Sudermann</span>. +With a Biographical Introduction by <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Lee</span>. 12mo. +Cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Contains some superb specimens of original thought."—<i>New York World.</i></p> + +<p>"The style is direct and incisive, and holds the unflagging attention of the reader."—<i>Boston +Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"A powerful story, very simple, very direct."—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>SLEEPING FIRES.</i> By <span class="smcap">George Gissing</span>, author of +"In the Year of Jubilee," "Eve's Ransom," etc. 16mo. Cloth, +75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>In this striking story the author has treated an original motive with rare self-command +and skill. His book is most interesting as a story, and remarkable as a literary +performance.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>STONEPASTURES.</i> By <span class="smcap">Eleanor Stuart</span>. 16mo. +Cloth, 75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"This is a strong bit of good literary workmanship.... The book has the value +of being a real sketch of our own mining regions, and of showing how, even in the apparently +dull round of work, there is still material for a good bit of literature."—<i>Philadelphia +Ledger.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>COURTSHIP BY COMMAND.</i> By <span class="smcap">M. M. Blake</span>. +16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A bright, moving study of an unusually interesting period in the life of Napoleon,... +deliciously told; the characters are clearly, strongly, and very delicately modeled, +and the touches of color most artistically done. 'Courtship by Command' is the +most satisfactory Napoleon <i>bonne-bouche</i> we have had."—<i>New York Commercial +Advertiser.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE WATTER'S MOU'.</i> By <span class="smcap">Bram Stoker</span>. +16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Here is a tale to stir the most sluggish nature.... It is like standing on the +deck of a wave tossed ship; you feel the soul of the storm go into your blood."—<i>N. Y. +Home Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"The characters are strongly drawn, the descriptions are intensely dramatic, and the +situations are portrayed with rare vividness of language. It is a thrilling story, told +with great power."—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>MASTER AND MAN.</i> By Count <span class="smcap">Leo Tolstoy</span>. +With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">W. D. Howells</span>. 16mo. Cloth, 75 +cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Crowded with these characteristic touches which mark his literary work."—<i>Public +Opinion.</i></p> + +<p>"Reveals a wonderful knowledge of the workings of the human mind, and it tells a +tale that not only stirs the emotions, but gives us a better insight into our own hearts."—<i>San +Francisco Argonaut.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE ZEIT-GEIST.</i> By <span class="smcap">L. Dougall</span>, author of +"The Mermaid," "Beggars All," etc. 16mo. Cloth, 75 cents.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"One of the best of the short stories of the day."—<i>Boston Journal.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the most remarkable novels of the year."—<i>New York Commercial +Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>"Powerful in conception, treatment, and influence."—<i>Boston Globe.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>NOVELS BY HALL CAINE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE MANXMAN.</i> 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A story of marvelous dramatic intensity, and in its ethical meaning has a force +comparable only to Hawthorne's 'Scarlet Letter.'"—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p> + +<p>"A work of power which is another stone added to the foundation of enduring fame +to which Mr. Caine is yearly adding."—<i>Public Opinion.</i></p> + +<p>"A wonderfully strong study of character; a powerful analysis of those elements +which go to make up the strength and weakness of a man, which are at fierce warfare +within the same breast; contending against each other, as it were, the one to raise him +to fame and power, the other to drag him down to degradation and shame. Never in +the whole range of literature have we seen the struggle between these forces for +supremacy over the man more powerfully, more realistically delineated than Mr. Caine +pictures it."—<i>Boston Home Journal.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE DEEMSTER. A Romance of the Isle of +Man.</i> 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Hall Caine has already given us some very strong and fine work, and 'The +Deemster' is a story of unusual power.... Certain passages and chapters have an +intensely dramatic grasp, and hold the fascinated reader with a force rarely excited +nowadays in literature."—<i>The Critic.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the strongest novels which has appeared in many a day."—<i>San Francisco +Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>"Fascinates the mind like the gathering and bursting of a storm."—<i>Illustrated +London News.</i></p> + +<p>"Deserves to be ranked among the remarkable novels of the day."—<i>Chicago +Times.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE BONDMAN.</i> New edition. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"The welcome given to this story has cheered and touched me, but I am conscious +that, to win a reception so warm, such a book must have had readers who +brought to it as much as they took away.... I have called my story a saga, merely +because it follows the epic method, and I must not claim for it at any point the weighty +responsibility of history, or serious obligations to the world of fact. But it matters not +to me what Icelanders may call 'The Bondman,' if they will honor me by reading it in +the open-hearted spirit and with the free mind with which they are content to read of +Grettir and of his fights with the Troll."—<i>From the Author's Preface.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>CAPT'N DAVY'S HONEYMOON. A Manx +Yarn.</i> 12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"A new departure by this author. Unlike his previous works, this little tale is +almost wholly humorous, with, however, a current of pathos underneath. It is not +always that an author can succeed equally well in tragedy and in comedy, but it looks +as though Mr. Hall Caine would be one of the exceptions."—<i>London Literary +World.</i></p> + +<p>"It is pleasant to meet the author of 'The Deemster' in a brightly humorous little +story like this.... It shows the same observation of Manx character, and much of +the same artistic skill."—<i>Philadelphia Times.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>NOVELS BY MAARTEN MAARTENS.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE GREATER GLORY. A Story of High Life.</i> +By <span class="smcap">Maarten Maartens</span>, author of "God's Fool," "Joost +Avelingh," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Until the Appletons discovered the merits of Maarten Maartens, the foremost of +Dutch novelists, it is doubtful if many American readers knew that there were Dutch +novelists. His 'God's Fool' and 'Joost Avelingh' made for him an American reputation. +To our mind this just published work of his is his best.... He is a master of +epigram, an artist in description, a prophet in insight."—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>"It would take several columns to give any adequate idea of the superb way in +which the Dutch novelist has developed his theme and wrought out one of the most +impressive stories of the period.... It belongs to the small class of novels which +one can not afford to neglect."—<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>"Maarten Maartens stands head and shoulders above the average novelist of the +day in intellectual subtlety and imaginative power."—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>GOD'S FOOL.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maarten Maartens</span>. 12mo. +Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Throughout there is an epigrammatic force which would make palatable a less +interesting story of human lives or one less deftly told."—<i>London Saturday Review.</i></p> + +<p>"Perfectly easy, graceful, humorous.... The author's skill in character-drawing +is undeniable."—<i>London Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>"A remarkable work."—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + +<p>"Maarten Maartens has secured a firm footing in the eddies of current literature.... +Pathos deepens into tragedy in the thrilling story of 'God's Fool.'"—<i>Philadelphia +Ledger.</i></p> + +<p>"Its preface alone stamps the author as one of the leading English novelists of +to-day."—<i>Boston Daily Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>"The story is wonderfully brilliant.... The interest never lags; the style is +realistic and intense; and there is a constantly underlying current of subtle humor.... +It is, in short, a book which no student of modern literature should fail to read."—<i>Boston +Times.</i></p> + +<p>"A story of remarkable interest and point."—<i>New York Observer.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>JOOST AVELINGH.</i> By <span class="smcap">Maarten Maartens</span>. +12mo. Cloth, $1.50.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"So unmistakably good as to induce the hope that an acquaintance with the Dutch +literature of fiction may soon become more general among us."—<i>London Morning +Post.</i></p> + +<p>"In scarcely any of the sensational novels of the day will the reader find more +nature or more human nature."—<i>London Standard.</i></p> + +<p>"A novel of a very high type. At once strongly realistic and powerfully idealistic."—<i>London +Literary World.</i></p> + +<p>"Full of local color and rich in quaint phraseology and suggestion."—<i>London +Telegraph.</i></p> + +<p>"Maarten Maartens is a capital story-teller."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"Our English writers of fiction will have to look to their laurels."—<i>Birmingham +Daily Post.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b><br /><br /></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>TWO REMARKABLE AMERICAN NOVELS.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><i>THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE. An Episode +of the American Civil War.</i> By <span class="smcap">Stephen Crane</span>. 12mo. +Cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Mr. Stephen Crane is a great artist, with something new to say, and consequently +with a new way of saying it.... In 'The Red Badge of Courage' Mr. +Crane has surely contrived a masterpiece.... He has painted a picture that challenges +comparisons with the most vivid scenes of Tolstoy's 'La Guerre et la Paix' or +of Zola's 'La Débâcle.'"—<i>London New Review.</i></p> + +<p>"In its whole range of literature we can call to mind nothing so searching in its +analysis, so manifestly impressed with the stamp of truth, as 'The Red Badge of +Courage.' ... A remarkable study of the average mind under stress of battle.... +We repeat, a really fine achievement."—<i>London Daily Chronicle.</i></p> + +<p>"Not merely a remarkable book; it is a revelation.... One feels that, with perhaps +one or two exceptions, all previous descriptions of modern warfare have been the +merest abstractions."—<i>St. James Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"Holds one irrevocably. There is no possibility of resistance when once you are +in its grip, from the first of the march of the troops to the closing scenes.... Mr. +Crane, we repeat, has written a remarkable book. His insight and his power of realization +amount to genius."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"There is nothing in American fiction to compare with it in the vivid, uncompromising, +almost aggressive vigor with which it depicts the strangely mingled conditions +that go to make up what men call war.... Mr. Crane has added to American +literature something that has never been done before, and that is, in its own peculiar +way, inimitable."—<i>Boston Beacon.</i></p> + +<p>"Never before have we had the seamy side of glorious war so well depicted.... +The action of the story throughout is splendid, and all aglow with color, movement, +and vim. The style is as keen and bright as a sword blade, and a Kipling has done +nothing better in this line."—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>IN DEFIANCE OF THE KING. A Romance of +the American Revolution.</i> By <span class="smcap">Chauncey C. Hotchkiss</span>. +12mo. Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"The whole story is so completely absorbing that you will sit far into the night to +finish it. You lay it aside with the feeling that you have seen a gloriously true picture +of the Revolution."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>"The story is a strong one—a thrilling one. It causes the true American to flush +with excitement, to devour chapter after chapter until the eyes smart; and it fairly +smokes with patriotism."—<i>New York Mail and Express.</i></p> + +<p>"The heart beats quickly, and we feel ourselves taking part in the scenes described.... +Altogether the book is an addition to American literature."—<i>Chicago Evening +Post.</i></p> + +<p>"One of the most readable novels of the year.... As a love romance it is charming, +while it is filled with thrilling adventure and deeds of patriotic daring."—<i>Boston +Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>"This romance seems to come the nearest to a satisfactory treatment in fiction of +the Revolutionary period that we have yet had."—<i>Buffalo Courier.</i></p> + +<p>"A clean, wholesome story, full of romance and interesting adventure.... Holds +the interest alike by the thread of the story and by the incidents.... A remarkably +well-balanced and absorbing novel."—<i>Milwaukee Journal.</i></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center"><b>New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.</b></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Chronicles of Martin Hewitt, by Arthur Morrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRONICLES OF MARTIN HEWITT *** + +***** This file should be named 37820-h.htm or 37820-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/8/2/37820/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by Cornell University Digital Collections) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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