The Adventures of Harry Revel

by Arthur Quiller-Couch

  CHAPTER XIX.

  CHECKMATE.

  Mr. Rogers's attitude stiffened with mock terror. So natural was itthat I cowered back under the bed. He closed the valise with a snapas a heel grated on the window-ledge and George Leicester droppedinto the room.

  "Wh--ew! So _that's_ why you couldn't hear an old friend's signal!Bolting, were you? No, no, my pretty duck--pay first, if youplease!"

  "Take it then!"

  Mr. Rogers swung round on him and smote him full on the jaw--a neatblow and beautifully timed. The man went down like an ox, his headstriking the floor with a second thud close beside my hiding-place.

  Miss Belcher ran from her curtain, clapping her hands. But Mr.Rogers had not finished with his man.

  "Shut the window!" he commanded, flinging himself forward andgripping Leicester's hands as they clutched at the carpet."Here, youngster--pass the straps yonder and hold on to his legs!"

  The blow had so rattled Leicester--had come so very near to smitinghim senseless--that he scarcely struggled whilst we bound him,trussing him like a fowl with the aid of Miss Belcher's riding-cropwhich she obligingly handed. He was not a pretty object, with hismouth full of blood and two of his teeth knocked awry, and we madehim a ludicrous one. Towards the end of the operation he began tospit and curse.

  "Gently, my lad!" Mr. Rogers turned him over.

  "You came here to settle up and we don't mean to disappoint you.Let's see what you're worth." He plunged a hand into Leicester'sbreeches pocket and drew forth a coin or two.

  "Let me alone, you '--' thief!" roared Leicester, his voice comingback to him in full strength.

  "Indeed, Mr. Rogers," the Rector protested, "this is going too far, Idoubt."

  "It's funny work for a Justice of the Peace, I'll own," he answered,with a grin at Miss Belcher. "Lydia, my dear, be so good as to bringone of those candles: I want to have a look at these coins. . . .Ah, I thought so!"

  "Put that money back where you found it!" snarled Leicester."By God! I don't know what you're after, but I'll have the law of youfor this evening's work!"

  "All in good time, my friend: you shall have as much law as you like,and a trifle over. See, Rector?" Mr. Rogers pointed to a scratch onthe face of one of the coins.

  Leicester began to smell danger. "What's wrong with the money?" hedemanded. Then as no one answered, "There's nothing wrong with it,is there?" he asked.

  "Depends where you got it, and how," he was answered.

  "Look here--you're not treating me fair," urged the rogue, changinghis tune. "If it's over the money you're knocking me about likethis, you're maltreating an innocent man; for I had it from ParsonWhitmore--every penny."

  "Ah, if you can prove that"--Mr. Rogers's face was perfectly grave--"you're a lucky man! The Reverend Mr. Whitmore has disappeared."

  The scoundrel's face was a study. Miss Belcher turned to the window,and even the Rector was forced to pull his lip.

  "Disappeared," Mr. Rogers repeated, "and most mysteriously.The unfortunate part of the business is that before leaving he madeno mention of any money actually paid to you. On the contrary, wegathered that for some reason or other he owed you a considerable sumwhich he found a difficulty in paying. Let me see"--he looked aroundon us as if for confirmation--"the sum was fifty pounds, if I mistakenot? We found it difficult to guess how he, a priest in Holy Orders,came to owe you this substantial amount. But perhaps you met him onhis way, and these guineas in my hand were tendered as part-payment?"

  George Leicester blinked. Accustomed to play with the fears ofothers, he understood well enough the banter in Mr. Rogers's tone,and that he was being sauced in his own sauce. He read the menace init too. But what could he answer?

  "I had the money from Whitmore," he repeated doggedly.

  "When?"

  "That I'll leave you to find out." He laughed a short laugh, betweenrage and derision. "Gad! you've a fair stock of impudence among you!First you assault me, half kill me, and tie me up here without apenn'orth of reason given: and now you're inviting me to walk intoanother trap-for all I can learn, merely because it amuses you. Itwon't do, my fine Justice-fellow; and that you'll discover."

  "The question is important, nevertheless. I may tell you that at onetime or another these coins were in the possession of the JewRodriguez, who was found murdered in Southside Street, Plymouth,yesterday morning. You perceive, therefore, that something dependson when and how you came by them. Still, since you prefer--andperhaps wisely--to keep your knowledge to yourself, I'll start bymaking out the warrant and we'll have in the constables."Mr. Rogers stepped towards the bureau.

  "Wh--" Leicester attempted a low whistle, but his mouth hurt him andhe desisted. An ugly grin of comprehension spread over his face--ofcomprehension and, at the same time, of relief. "That explains," hemuttered. "But where did he find the pluck?"

  "Eh?" Mr. Rogers, in the act of seating himself by the bureau, hadcaught the tone but not the words. As he slewed round with the queryI heard another sound in the adjoining room.

  "Oh, go ahead with your warrant, my Jessamy Justice! It tickles youand don't hurt me. Shall I help you spell it?"

  "I was thinking to ask you that favour," Mr. Rogers replied demurely."Your name, now?"

  "Letcher--L.e.t.c.h.e.r--Sergeant, North Wilts Regiment."

  "Thank you--'Letcher,' you say? Now I was on the point of writing it'Leicester.'"

  In the dead silence that followed he laid down his pen, and with hishands behind him came slowly across the room and stared intoLeicester's face.

  "The game is up, my friend."

  Leicester met the stare, but his jaw and throat worked as though hewere choking. I thought he was trying to answer. If so, the wordsrefused to come.

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Mr. Rogers stepped to it quickly. "That you, Jim?"

  "Yessir."

  "Is Miss Brooks with you?" He held the door a very little ajar--notwide enough to give sight of us behind him.

  "Yessir. A gentleman, too, sir: leastways he talks like one, thoughdressed like a private soldier. He won't give his name." Jim's tonewas an aggrieved one.

  "Thank you: that's quite right. You may go home to bed, if you wish:but be ready for a call. I may want you later on."

  "Be this all you want of me?" Jim was evidently disappointed.

  "I fear so."

  "P'rhaps you don't know it, sir, but Hodgson's gone. There wasnobody at the gate when we came by."

  "Hodgson has a little job on hand. It will certainly occupy him allnight, but I am afraid you cannot help him. Now don't stay askingquestions, my man, but be off to bed. I'll send word if I want you."

  Jim grumbled and withdrew. "Best to get him out of the way,"Mr. Rogers explained to the Rector. "You and I can take this fellowback to Plymouth at daybreak." He listened for a moment andannounced, "He's gone. Keep an eye on our friend, please, while Iprepare Isabel for it. My word!"--and he heaved a prodigious sigh--"I'd give something to be through with the next ten minutes!"

  He opened the door and, passing through, closed it as quickly behindhim. He was absent for half an hour perhaps. We could hear themutter of his voice in the next room and now and again anothermasculine voice interrupting--never Isabel's. The Rector had found aseat for Miss Belcher beside the bureau. He himself took his standbeside the chimney and fingered a volume of the registers, makingpretence to read but keeping his eye alert for any movement ofLeicester. No one spoke; until the prisoner, intercepting a glancefrom Miss Belcher, broke into a sudden brutal laugh.

  "Poor old lady!" he jeered, and his eyes travelled wickedly acrossthe disordered floor. "Whitmore left a lot behind him, eh?"

  She rose and turning her back on him, walked to the window.There she leaned out, seeming to study the night: but I saw that hershoulders heaved.

  The Rector looked across with a puzzled frown. Leicester laughedagain: and with that, Miss Belcher came back to him, slipped out theriding
-crop which trussed him, and held it under his nose. Her facewas white, but calm. She lifted the stick slowly to bring it acrosshis face, paused, and flung it on the floor.

  "You tempt me to be as dirty as yourself," she said. "But one womanhas shown you mercy to-night, despising you. Think of that, GeorgeLeicester."

  The door opened again and Mr. Rogers nodded to us.

  "Hallo!" he exclaimed, perceiving the riding-crop on the floor.

  "He can't run," said Miss Belcher nonchalantly. "But he can standnow, I fancy--and walk, if you loosen his legs a bit. He'll bewanted for a witness, won't he?"

  "You're all wanted." Mr. Rogers helped Leicester to stand andslackened the bond about his ankles. "We'll tighten it again in thenext room, my friend. Stay a moment, Rector!" He pointed to thewardrobe. The Rector went to it and unhitching a clean surplicelaid it across his arm. So we filed into the room where Isabel andArchibald Plinlimmon awaited us.

  They stood in the shadow of the window-curtains, talking together inlow tones: and by their attitudes she was vehemently pleading for afavour which he as vehemently rejected. But when she caught him byboth hands he yielded, and they faced us together--she with herbeautiful face irradiated.

  Miss Belcher stepped to her at once and kissed her; and across thatgood lady's shoulder she cast one look at the prisoner, now beingshuffled into the room by Mr. Rogers. It was neither vindictive norrecriminatory, but cheerful and calm with an utter scorn. I lookednervously at Archibald Plinlimmon. His face was dusky red and sullenwith rage; but I noted with a leap of my heart that he, too, lookedLeicester squarely in the face: and from that moment (if a boy maysay so) I felt there was hope for him.

  The Rector unfolded and donned the surplice. Isabel disengagedherself from Miss Belcher's arms and, drawing off her ring, handed itto her lover. Their eyes met, and hers were smiling bravely: butthey brimmed on a sudden as the tears sprang into his. And now Ifelt that there was strong hope for him.

  Thus I came to be present at their wedding. Indeed, the prisonerclaimed so much of Mr. Rogers's attention during the ceremony thatyou might almost say I acted as groomsman.