Collected works of j s f.., p.19
Collected Works of J S Fletcher, page 19
“When the Almighty made man and woman,” said Cadd, “he made some on us good looking and some t’other way. I guess he gave you the good looks, miss, and this yar poor girl the bad uns. I rejoice ex-ceed-ing-ly to find that your good looks is accompanied by a good heart. As for this ornery individual I forgive him.”
He finished his brandy and soda and went over to Andrewlina’s corner, drawing his chair in front of her so that she was shut out from the curious stare of the other people. When she had finished eating and drinking he began to question her, “What air you doing here, my girl?” asked Mr. Cadd.
“Ah’m sure, sir, Ah should nivver ha’ comed here o’ my awn account,” said Andrewlina, “Ah’ve heeard my mother saay ‘at Lundun wor a varry bad plaace, an’ Ah can beleeve it. Sam o’ Doads, what lived i’ ahr yard, once comed up here for a daay or two, but he wor fair wearied on’t befoor a daay wore aht. And sooa am Ah. Ah shall be glad to gooa hooam, Ah can tell tha’, sir.”
“And what did you come for?” asked Cadd again.
“Why, you see, sir, Mester Murgatroyd he comed hooam last neet just after yo’d gooân away. I helled him yo’d been, and he carried on saâme as a madman for a minute. He went to t’ corner o’ t’ room wheer he kept his money, and he took it all aht o’ t’ box and rammed it i’ his coyt (coat) pocket. Then he says, ‘Ah’m gooin’ awaay reyt to America, and nivver comin’ back nooa more! And Ah wot that ta’en aback, sir, while Ah didn’t knaw what to think.”
“And what then?” asked Cadd.
“Well, sir. Master Murgatroyd gev ma twenty pound then, and said Ah wor to find another plaace. And then off he goes like leetning. Ah can assewer yo, sir, Ah wor reyt knocked up wi’ it.”
“Well, and you followed him?”
“Naay, not for a bit Ah didn’t. Ah didn’t knaw what to dew. But at last Ah sed to meself ‘at Ah wod follow him. And soa Ah donned meself i’ my best things and set off to t’ railway station. Ah didn’t knaw which station to go to at first, and Ah war bahn to try ’em all and see which on ’em he’d gone from. But while Ah wor waatin’ abaht t’ Great Northern Station Ah see’d him drive up i’ a cab.”
“Yes,” said Cadd, “and what then?”
“He got aht o’ t’ cab and a young laàdy follered him—”
“A young lady? Who was she, girl?”
“Ah’m nooan sewer on ‘t, maister, but Ah think it wor Miss Aylmer, owd Aylmer’s dowter. Tha knaws Aylmer’s warehouse, wheer Mester Murgatroyd works?”
“Yes, I know,” said Cadd, whose heart was beginning to beat pretty quickly. “Well, where did yer master and the young lady go?”
“He tewk tickets for London,” said Andrewlina, “and Ah tewk one too, and Ah got into t’ train unknawn to him. And when Ah got here, maister, it wor sooâ busy and sooâ noisy, while Ah fair lost meself. And Ah see’d Master Murgatroyd and t’ young lady get into a cab and drive awaây. And nah Ah’ve lost him altogether.”
Cadd jumped to his feet. “Come along,” he said. “We’ll find him, girl. Come!”
He drew her along with him to the cab-stand and put her into a cab.
“Where is that place where detectives air to be found?” he asked of the cabman.
“Scotland Yard,” said cabby promptly.
“Then,” said Mr. Cadd, “drive to Scotland Yard like—”
He fairly lifted Andrewlina out of the cab when they reached the Yard, and carried her into the office.
“I want,” said he, “to see the ‘cutest, best detective in this yer place. Trot him out, quick. Money, sir, is no object. If it is necessary I will buy up the services of every man in the force.”
The clerk, astonished into action, conducted the strange pair into the presence of an inspector. The latter, calm, observant, sat quiet and silent while Cadd told his strange story.
“Yes,” he said. “I think your idea is correct, sir. But it is a difficult case. This man Murgatroyd has probably entrapped the young lady into accompanying him; and most likely they are out of England by this time.”
“God forbid!” said Cadd. “Sir, the young woman is the future wife of my pardner. We must save her somehow.”
The inspector thought a little. “You say money is no object—” he began, Cadd came close to him, “Money, sir?” he said. “I’ve fifty thousand pounds on me just now! You kin hev it all, every cent, if it will do any good.”
“That’s hardly necessary, Mr. Cadd,” said the inspector, smiling. “And I should advise you not to carry such a sum on your person. Now, we will have a dozen men out making inquiries at once. You may deposit something for their expenses, if you like.”
Mr. Cadd took out his pocket-book and flung down a bundle of notes. The inspector took them up, selected one, and handed the rest back.
“Before we go further.” he said, “just let me have the facts again. I should like to ask this young woman a few questions.”
But before he could say anything more Andrewlina stood up and opened her mouth. “Is this heer t’ police office?” she asked; “for if it is Ah’m going to answer nowt. Ah dooan’t reytley knaw what yo want, but Ah can tell yo that Ah shall saay nowt abaht my maister. And Ah think it’s fair shaameful o’ yo. Mester Cadd, to hev axed me all them questions for t’ purpose o’ getting Mester Murgatroyd into trouble. Shaame on yo!”
Mr. Cadd, surprised once more, stared at Andrewlina as though she had ordered him to be shot. Then he suddenly burst out laughing, and patted the poor girl’s head. “Bravo, lass!” said he. “Yew’r in the right to stick up for your master. But it’s too late. He’s done for himself this time.”
“Yes,” said the inspector, “it’s gone too far. Now, you tell me this man left King’s Cross in a cab at two this morning with a young lady. Give the description of both.”
Cadd, with true detective skill, enumerated the special points of Simon and Rose; and the Inspector began his work.
A man went to King’s Cross with instructions to find the cabman who drove Simon away, and to track the latter from that point.
Another man went to the Bank of England to confirm Cadd’s instruction about the notes given on the previous evening to Robson at Millford. Several men went to stations, docks, and coach-offices, all with the object of gaining some information about Simon and his companion; and this done, Mr. Cadd was fain to wait in patience. By the inspector’s advice he took Andrewlina to the nearest hotel, and put her in safe keeping until news came.
“If Ah’d ha’ knawn what yo were axing me all them questions for, Ah’d ha’ dee’d afoar Ah’d ha’ answered ony on ’em,” she said, as Cadd took her away, “Aw, maister, can’t ye hev a bit of mercy? Yo and t’ policeman i’ plain clothes wor saayin’ ‘at Master Murgatroyd war a thief, and varry like a murderer! Maister, I dunnot know who yo are, but Ah’m sewer yo dooan’t knaw my maister. He wodn’t harm a babby, let alooan kill onybody; and Ah’m sewer he’s not a thief. Why, maister, he’d pounds and pounds, and bank-nooates and bank-nooates i’ t’ hoil ‘i t’ corner o’ t’ room. He’d nooa need to rob onybody, hed he now, maister? Let him gooa, do, and Ah’ll give yo all t' brass Ah hev. Sitha, maister, here’s twenty pound i’ gold, and here’s my savings bank book. Take it all, and tell t’ police to let Mester Murgatroyd go free.”
There were tears in Cadd’s eyes as he strove to comfort her. He did his best to soothe and console her, saying that if Simon was innocent he would soon clear himself. But she refused to be comforted, and sat in the hotel weeping and bemoaning herself all the weary day.
“It’s all my fault,” she moaned. “If Ah’d kept a still tongue i’ my heead they’d nivver ha’ fahnd aht ‘at he gone away wi’ Miss Aylmer. Oh, maister, Ah couldn’t help it, Ah couldn’t help it.”
“It’s curus,” said Cadd, as he walked up and down, waiting impatiently for news, “It’s curus, is this. The villain’s got one friend in this yar she-gorilla, at all events.”
It was towards evening when a messenger came across to him from the Yard. He took Andrewlina, who refused to leave him, and went over to the inspector’s room.
“Well?” he said, “We’ve traced them, Mr. Cadd. The man Murgatroyd drove to an inn in Whitechapel, left the young lady there for an hour or two, drove away again to London Docks, and set out with her in the Hawk, a specially chartered vessel, for Barcelona, at daybreak.”
“Were there other passengers?” asked Cadd solemnly.
“None; the vessel, a fast screw steamer, was specially chartered.”
“God help the girl!” said Cadd. “Can anything be done — anything that money can do?”
“Yes; we will take out a warrant. You can take a couple of our men, go down to Dover, hire a tug, and intercept the steamer. But it is only a chance; the vessel’s destination might easily be changed once out at sea.”
“I’ll try it,” said Cadd; “and Heaven help Murgatroyd if he falls into my hands!”
While the police were making some preparations, Andrewlina laid her hand on Cadd’s arm, “Maister,” she said, “let me go with you. Ah’ll not be i’ t’ waay — let me go!”
“Yes, girl, you shall go and welcome,” said Mr. Cadd.
A smile came over the poor creature’s face as she turned away. “Ah can may be saave him yet,” she whispered to herself.
CHAPTER XIV.
ON BOARD THE “HAWK.”
ROSE AYLMER, DRIVING with Simon Murgatroyd through the almost deserted streets, was conscious of no coming evil. She thought that every turn of the wheels brought her nearer to Leonard. She had full trust in her companion, because she had no reason for having any suspicion of him. Simon had served her dead father for something like fifteen years, having gone into the warehouse as a boy. She knew that her father thought highly of his business qualities and praised him for a steady-going sober fellow. The knowledge that Martin Aylmer had trusted him was sufficient to make Rose feel safe in Simon’s charge. And then too, she was grateful to him for his efforts made in her behalf since the merchant’s death.
The cab made a long journey through the London streets. Rose, thinking of the meeting with Leonard, was silent, and Simon made no effort to talk. But when they were driving along Cheapside, and still going eastward, Rose spoke.
“I suppose we shall go straight to the vessel where Leonard is lying, shall we not, Mr. Murgatroyd?”
It had never entered into her mind that they would do anything else, and she could not afterwards think why she had asked the question. Simon’s answer surprised her.
“Well,” he said, “I think, Miss Aylmer, that it would be best for me to go on first and prepare Mr. Leonard. He is very weak, and it would not be wise to give him a shock. I will take you to a good hotel close to the docks, and then I will go and let them know you have arrived while you get an hour’s rest.”
Always that same smooth, diplomatic fashion of being concerned for Miss Aylmer’s comfort! Rose knew well enough that she could neither eat, rest, nor sleep until she had seen Leonard and ascertained his safety; but she permitted Simon to have his way, and only asked him to fetch her to Leonard as quickly as possible.
The hotel that he took her to was in a quiet street on the eastern verge of the city. Small as it was, it boasted a night-porter, and this individual at Simon’s bidding rang up a chambermaid, who came down in something of a bad temper and demanded to have good and valid reasons for the action. But a word or two from Simon and a coin slipped into her ready palm speedily put an end to her anger, and she conducted Miss Aylmer to the best apartment in the place and evinced a desire to serve her. “Would she have some coffee, or tea? It would be ready in half an hour.”
But Rose felt no inclination for either. She had asked Simon, on leaving him downstairs, to return as soon as possible, and now that she was alone and in a strange house, she felt nervous and uncomfortable. To get rid of the girl’s importunity she consented to have some coffee, and sent her away to make it. And then being alone, she began to walk up and down the room and regret that she had not insisted on going with Simon to the ship at first.
Simon Murgatroyd meanwhile left the house and proceeded to the docks. It was not yet three o’clock, but he had a shrewd idea that certain of the shipping offices would be open, and it was with a shipping office that he wished to do a little business.
As he turned out of the street in which the hotel was situated he ran up against a man who suddenly came round the corner in the opposite direction. The man gave vent to a hearty curse, which gave place to a whistle of surprise as he caught sight of Murgatroyd’s face. Simon too, looking up, uttered an exclamation of surprise not unmixed with delight.
“Hullo!” he said. “That you, Jansenn? What brings you here? I thought you were in the Baltic trade.”
The man addressed pulled himself up and laughed. “Nein,” said he emphatically. “I haf bin in der Baltic trade, running between Hull and der Baltic ports, but I haf given him oop. Ach! der was not enough excitement about him for me.”
“Nothing like that little business of ours at Flushing, eh?”
Captain Jansenn laughed. “Nein, nein, said he. “Ach Himmel! Dat was a grand stroke of business. I haf often laughed to myself at the remembrance of how we did throw der dust in the eyes of dem excisemens. Yes, dat was a good stroke.”
He was referring to an incident in which Simon Murgatroyd had figured to no inconsiderable purpose. It was an incident of a summer holiday, of a sharp and unscrupulous Yorkshireman coming across an equally sharp and unscrupulous Dutchman, of these two laying their heads together to outwit the revenue authorities of their respective nations, and of carrying their scheme into such triumphant practical effect that there was no wonder Captain Dirk Jansenn remembered it as a good stroke of business.
“Well?” said Captain Jansenn, “and what make you here? On business, likely?”
“Yes,” said Simon. “On business, of course.”
“Strictly legitimate, eh?” said the captain, with a smile.
Simon laughed. “Oh, of course.”
And then both men looked hard at each other. Each was wondering what the other thought just then. Simon spoke first.
“Look here,” he said. “I want help — peculiar help, such help as few men would give as well as—”
“As Dirk Jansenn, eh? Well, my friend, you have but to speak.”
“Then,” said Simon, “I want a swift vessel that can leave here in an hour or two and take me and another, as the only passengers, to Barcelona.”
Captain Jansenn nodded and stroked his beard, “So?” he said. “Umph! Der is no extradition treaty with Spain — is it not so? ““There is no extradition treaty between Spain and England.”
“Umph! Is it a big job?”
“Pretty fair,” said Simon.
“And the other one — the other passenger?”
“Is a lady.”
“Ho — ho!” cried Captain Jansenn. “Mein vrient, it is not wise to drag der girls into this sort of thing. So? Well, der is my vessel, the Hawk. Ach! she fly through der water New screw, new everything. But der owners is close fist. You must pay big price.”
“If I pay what they want, can your vessel leave here in two hours?”
“Ach! she can leave in one. She is close by, and the office-folks is working all night. Kom with me.”
On their way to the shipping office Simon told the captain as much of his plans as it was necessary the latter should know. Jansenn, himself an adept at villainy, fully entered into them.
“The girl will kick up a big row when we are fairly off,” said he; “and I hate rows. You will pay your poor friend Jansenn well for the weeping and wailing, eh, good friend Murgatroyd?”
“Get me to Barcelona, or any Spanish port, all right, and you shall see,” said Simon. But one of his bank-notes found its way into Jansenn’s pockets before the Hawk got up steam.
It was just beginning to get light, when Simon, having completed his arrangements with Captain Jansenn and the owner of the Hawk went back to the hotel for Rose. She had wondered why he was so long in coming for her. She heard his step on the staircase, and flew to the door. “Oh!” she cried, “how long a time it has seemed! You can take me now, can you not? How is he? Is he better?”
“My dear Miss Aylmer,” said Simon, taking the girl’s hands in his own in a very fatherly fashion, “you must be brave and patient. Mr Leonard is not so well this morning. I am going to take you to the vessel; but you will be very quiet when you get there, I am sure. It would not do for him to know that you are near him, the doctor says.”
“Oh, I will be very quiet. Only let me be near him. Even if I cannot see him I shall be content to know that I can get to him, if — if—”
And then she broke down and wept, and Simon, taking her downstairs, put her into a cab and drove to the docks.
She was too much agitated to notice where she was taken, or any of the circumstances attending that short journey. She noticed that a tug took them off to a slim, shapely vessel lying in the river, and that a tall man with a black beard helped her on board, and whispered something to Simon. She followed Murgatroyd down a gangway, and found herself in a small cabin.
“Now, Miss Aylmer,” said Simon, “the doctor tells me that you may be able to see Mr. Leonard in an hour’s time. Meanwhile you will take some breakfast, will you not? You will, perhaps, have to nurse Mr. Leonard, you know, so you must not let your strength go down.”
Rose felt hungry and worn out by that time. She consented to do as he wished, and forced herself to drink a cup of tea, and to eat of the meal which the boy presently brought to her. And then she sat down in a swinging chair and tried to be calm till they fetched her to her lover’s side. And, so gently that she herself was not aware of it, she dropped asleep, and fell into a heavy slumber; for Simon had put an opiate in the tea.
When she awoke, and started to her feet, she became aware that it was dark, and that the vessel was moving. She heard the swish, swish, of the waves, and felt the thrill of the revolving screw. What had happened? She sat in the darkness for a few minutes, and then groping her way to the door of the cabin, she tried to turn the handle. The door was fast!
