Guilty Bonds

by William Le Queux

asked, for my heart seemed to tell mehe was no ordinary alms-seeker.

  He was about to reply, and I could feel his hand upon my arm tremblingwith eagerness, when the policeman again interposed.

  "He's only a-beggin' again, sir," said that worthy. "I often turn himaway when he's bothering the gents--and that's pretty nigh always," headded, in a grumbling undertone.

  "What's the matter with him?" I inquired, noting the paleness of thepoor fellow's face. Before I could say another word his hold on my armhad relaxed, and he fell backwards, almost into the arms of the toozealous officer.

  Bending beside him, I ordered some brandy to be brought, and in spite ofthe assurance from my astute friend that "he was not worth the trouble,"I did all I could to restore the inanimate form to consciousness.

  "I've never seen 'im like this 'ere before, blow me!" observed thecabby, who was lending a little assistance, because, as I supposed, hethought there might be some profit attaching to the operation. Myauthority was not to be slighted when I was in earnest, which was thecase just then.

  The unfortunate man presently showed signs of reviving, having beencarried into the cloak-room of the club, while I questioned theconstable as to who he was and where he lived.

  "As for who he is, sir, that's more than any one knows barrin' hisself,"and he laughed. "He lives 'ere, or has done so for the last eight ornine months and always seems to be lookin' out for somebody wot hethinks he'll know when he sees."

  This appeared rather enigmatical. Why had the stranger sought to detainme? A momentary thought crossed my mind--was Vera concerned in this?

  With a new interest I turned to the constable.

  "Has he ever stopped any one else and spoken like this?" I asked.

  "Bless you, yes," he replied. "But I never knew him so earnest as thistime--hullo, old fellow, how do you feel now?"

  A faint flush of colour tinged the careworn face; the stimulant had doneits work. How sickening it was, I thought, to hear the affectation offriendliness in this man's voice, now he thought that because mysympathy had been attracted towards the sufferer there was a chance ofgaining a few shillings!

  "It's him--it's him! I knew I'd find him some day," cried the prostrateman, raising himself on his arm and pointing eagerly at me, as ifawakening from some bad dream. Then, as he saw the interested faces ofthose who had gathered around, and noted the keen looks with which hewas regarded, he scowled darkly, and struggled into a sitting posture.As he noticed me again watching him intently, he started.

  "Did you want to speak to me, my poor fellow?" I inquired kindly.

  "For mercy's sake wait a few moments, sir, please. Let me get breath.Send these people away, I--I'm better now. See," and he rose and walkedunsteadily to the door, watching me all the time with a keen scrutinywhich made me feel rather uncomfortable.

  A moment or two later we were on the pavement outside, where the cab Ihad ordered still remained.

  "We must hurry, or we shall be too late," he urged. "Follow quickly,sir."

  "Wait a moment," I said, my prudence for the moment mastering mycuriosity. "What do you want with me, and where are you going to takeme?" With a searching stare he faced me, but I did not flinch. Therewas an ominous gleam in his dark eyes scowling fiercely into mine, as hesaid impetuously,--

  "Don't stand here, wasting precious time in useless questions. Youcannot know _now_ what it is I want you for--if you are the right man--and Heaven grant you may be--you shall know all."

  "You are talking nonsense," I said quietly, and with determination."What's at the bottom of all this? Come, tell me quickly; my time isbeing wasted."

  My watch, as I glanced at it in the gaslight, showed that the hour wasabout half-past ten, but my earnestness to find the real meaning of thismysterious adventure, coupled with my curiosity, would probably havekept me there for hours.

  Soon, however, I became impatient.

  My unknown questioner looked at me with a resolute smile. His features,or as much of them as could be seen beneath the shabby hat, were notunhandsome, and the smile became him well.

  "You _are_ coming with me to-night and soon," he said, in the same cooland determined manner I had myself displayed.

  This was too much. Without word or sign I sprang into the cab, and asthe Jehu touched the animal with his whip, my face was determinedlyturned away from my strange acquaintance.

  My action was so sudden that at first he seemed disconcerted. The cabhad only moved a few yards before, with a sudden bound, he gained thehorse's head.

  "Leave go that 'orse!" shouted the cabman with an oath.

  For a few seconds there was a scene of confusion. The man still holdingthe reins, and heedless of the plunging and affrighted animal,approached me. He was evidently exhausted, and could withstand theexcitement no longer. His coat had burst asunder, revealing in all itsraggedness the soiled shirt underneath, through the holes in which hispanting chest was plainly visible.

  "One word, sir," he implored, springing with the wildness of despairupon the front of the hansom. "Just one more word, and then if youwon't come, the consequence will lie upon your own head. Do, _do_stop!"

  Thoroughly alarmed at his vehemence, I again ordered the cabman to pullup. There must, I reflected, be something in this matter, after all.

  "Will you tell me, without delay, the reason I'm stopped here; or do youwish me to give you into custody as a beggar?" I sternly asked.

  There was a crowd around us. It was a rather unusual spectacle, and thepassers-by gave eager attention to it.

  "Very well, then, I'll show you something that will decide you, if youwill let the man drive on a little, out of this crush," he rejoined,diving his hand into his breast-pocket.

  Impatiently I told him to jump in, giving the order to drive away,anywhere. After the lapse of a few minutes I turned to the strangebeing by my side.

  He held a piece of torn paper, but what was on it I could not then see.Putting his shaking hand upon my shoulder, and his ashen face with itswild, glaring eyes, close to my own, he hissed, with a kind of viciouspleasure.

  "You think me an impostor, eh? Well, look at this, and remember what ithas revealed to you before. Then say if I have stopped you withoutcause. Its author may yet be found!"

  His face wore a smile of triumph as he held before my eyes a tornfragment of paper. With an indefinable thrill of excitement, notunmingled with alarm--for his words were ominous--I took it. So darkwas it in the vehicle that I held it close to my eyes till we approachedthe next street-lamp. As we did so, and the light fell across thecrumpled and dirty paper, my heart almost stopped beating, and mypulses, for a moment ceased.

  There, in all its frightful reality, was the seal!

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

  THE VERGE OF A DISCOVERY.

  My first impulse was to call the police, but he noticed my intention,and his hand was laid hurriedly upon my mouth.

  "There's nothing to fear--I'm not the man," he said. "Make no noise,and keep your own counsel. I can tell you plenty about this, if youcare to listen."

  The words fell dimly and indistinctly upon my ears. I was stunned andspeechless--it was as if some vast substance had struck me anannihilating blow, which, while paralysing my senses to a certaindegree, yet left me half oblivious. It was clear we were in a cab,driving aimlessly about London streets at a late hour. It was also truethat I had once more seen that fatal, horrible symbol, associated withwhich were the most terrifying and agonising events of my life. I couldnot, however, speak, and it was only by great effort that I retained mycourage.

  My companion stooped and picked up something that had fallen at ourfeet. It was the paper to which the seal was affixed, that had droppedfrom my nerveless fingers.

  Suddenly an icy-cold hand was laid upon my forehead.

  "Wake up! wake up!--be a man! I've told you to fear nothing with me.We're wasting precious time. Arouse yourself for once in your life!"

  My senses returned as sudd
enly as they had fled. The horror of feelinghis hand--a hand that had in its possession the seal--recalled me. Isat upright and drew to my side of the cab as much as I could.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed bitterly, "you are still afraid of me. See here,now," and he leaned across, speaking deliberately and with quietemphasis, "I may die to-night, but--"

  "What!" I exclaimed, "you die to-night?"

  "Yes," he replied, in the same cool and determined tone. "You seemincredulous, but I am sure. Look!"

  He put his hand to the back of his head and withdrew it, holding itbefore my eyes.

  "Blood! Good heavens?" I ejaculated, as again the light revealed histhin grimy fingers.

  "True, and I've not long to live--all the more reason, is it not, that Ishould make haste? Will you come to my home, _now_?"

  "At once. But let us drive to a doctor and see about your head." Allmy repugnance had vanished.

  "Wait," he said, shouting to the cabman an address. I remember that weat once altered our course, but whither we were proceeding I cared not--knew not. Here was, perhaps, an elucidation of the mystery forthcoming,and I had nearly done my utmost to prevent it.

  "Go on; tell me all you can," I demanded, when, after considerablepersuasion, he had consented to have his head bound up as well as myslight knowledge of surgery permitted.

  "Presently. When we get home--or what was once my home," he rejoined.He was paler than before, and leaned back in a state apparently of theutmost exhaustion. His necktie had been loosened, and I had placed mytravelling rug around the thinly-covered chest, yet in spite of this thesevere reaction affected him severely. Sometimes he closed his eyes,and every now and then, when we passed along streets where the lightswere more brilliant than in others, he stared vacantly at the roof ofthe cab.

  Once, when I was leaning over him, making him a little more comfortable,a tear rolled down the thin, haggard cheek.

  The journey seemed interminable. Street after street we traversed, andyet our journey's end appeared as far off as ever. We had evidentlywandered a long way before our driver received a definite address, orpossibly he was lengthening the course for his own benefit.

  The fact was that, in my impatience, it appeared longer than it reallywould have done.

  Eventually we regained the Strand, and shortly afterwards our conveyancecame to a standstill in what appeared to be anything but an invitingneighbourhood. Not a soul was about, and the empty street rattledloudly as we clattered along it.

  We were in Drury Lane, before the entrance to a narrow squalid court.

  As we stopped I turned with a sigh of relief to my companion, who,however, stirred not.

  A fearful misgiving entered my heart. Was it possible he was dead?

  Profoundly thankful I felt when, after shaking him, he turned and openedhis eyes.

  "Come; is this the place?" I asked, assisting him to his feet.

  He followed me mechanically, but leaned very heavily on my arm as westood for a moment while I paid the cabman.

  "Where is it?" was my next question.

  With an effort he composed himself, passing his hand wearily over hiseyes. He appeared much changed. Inwardly deploring my forgetfulness, Idrew my flask from my pocket and tendered him a pull, which he acceptedwith feverish energy.

  "Ah! that puts new life into one!" he exclaimed, with a gasp.

  His tone struck me as peculiar, and, regarding him attentively, it wasplainly to be seen that he was in a very faint condition.

  "This way," he continued, as, bracing himself up, he led the way up thecourt.

  "Here--here was where I found her, murdered!"

  "Who?" I asked, instantly.

  "My wife."

  The words were simple ones, and might have been spoken and heard athousand times on any day; but at that time, and in those circumstances,they thrilled me indescribably. If those two words had been uttered byan enthusiastic lover to his bride for the first time, they could nothave been more tenderly breathed.

  Brushing aside all sentiment, however, I inquired, coldly, "When wasthis?"

  "On the night of the fourth of March."

  "What! that was the night after I returned from Russia!" I exclaimed,involuntarily. "And the seal. Was that found upon her?"

  "It was. But hush! we may be overheard. Let us go in."

  Filled with horror and amazement, I followed him up the tortuous stairsof a house in close proximity to the spot. After mounting severalflights in utter darkness, we entered an attic--as it proved on strikinga match--containing only the scantiest possible furniture. In onecorner stood a bed, and by it a broken wicker-bottomed chair. An oldbox was placed near the broken fireplace rusted by damp, and that, witha few other articles, formed the whole contents of the miserableapartment.

  He lighted the piece of candle which was upon the box, and aftercarefully closing the door, we sat down.

  Scarcely had we done this, however, than he fell forward with a crashupon the bare floor, the blood at the same time gushing out afresh fromthe wound at the back of the head, and forming a small pool. Greatly tomy relief he spoke almost immediately, although in such low tones as tobe scarcely audible.

  "It's useless to call for assistance, for the house is empty. Lay me onthe bed, if you can, and I'll tell you all--everything."

  "But you are hurt, and must be attended to," I said. There was a pangat my heart all the time, for, with my selfish desire to solve themystery at once, this new wound meant fresh delay.

  "If you leave me you will, on returning, find me dead. Lay me on thebed; keep quiet, and listen."

  Those were the words he spoke, and strangely calm and composed theyseemed. With a precipitation which I have never ceased to deplore, Ilifted him as he desired, and gave up the idea of trying to obtainmedical aid at that hour in a quarter unknown to me.

  He was soon arranged as comfortably as possible. The spectacle hepresented--spare, pale and gaunt, propped up on a squalid bed, thepillows all stained with blood--will never be erased from my memory.

  At a sign from him I snuffed the cheap candle and drew closer to hisside.

  "A year ago on the fourth of next March," he commenced, speakingdeliberately, but in a very weak voice, "my wife left me for a fewhours. We were in utter poverty, for our little all had been stolenfrom us by my wife's brother-in-law. You may have guessed already thatI was not always what I appear now. At one time--"

  "But," I interrupted, "had you not better tell me why you have broughtme here, before--"

  "Before it is too late, eh? You're right. Well, my wife left me on adesperate errand. She went to ask for money from some one over whom shehad a great hold--and--and she never came home."

  He paused to gain breath. My heart beat violently as I noted the greateffort he had to make for respiration.

  "The man she went to see was--who?"

  "Wait! By mere accident she knew his secret. One night, a long timeago, she told me that a gold mine had been opened to her. In the City,at a public-house where she had called, she met her sister Jane, whogave her a five-pound note. A few days afterwards Nell went to see somegentleman, and came home with a lot of money. She said she knew asecret out of which we both might make our fortunes. In the meantimeJane had disappeared. They were sisters, and so much alike that onecould scarcely tell the difference. Open the box with this key, andgive me the portrait you'll find there."

  Chafing with impatience I did as he required and quickly found thepicture.

  The little photograph was of the ordinary cheap pattern, and presentedthe features of a rather attractive young woman.

  "This," said my strange narrator, taking it in his trembling hand, "ismy wife's picture, and it will do very well for Jane's. We saw littleof her, as she moved about so much, sometimes in England and sometimesabroad."

  "Really this does not throw much light on the occurrence," I remarked."What connects me with all this?"

  "The fact that you witnessed the murder at
Bedford Place," he replied."You have seen the man who killed Mrs Inglewood, and he also, I amcertain, murdered my wife! You may well stare; but consider well, as Ihave done, and you will come to the same conclusion. When Nell left meshe said, `Good-bye Ned; I know it's a dangerous errand I'm on, butdon't fret.' It was dangerous--fatal. When I found she did not returnI went out. It was dark, and a very few steps from my door I stumble ona drunken woman lying in a corner. When I looked closer my head reeled,and I nearly fainted--it was Nell! On her breast was the--the--"

  "The seal!" I exclaimed.

  He did not answer. Gradually his voice had become fainter, till it wasonly by placing my ear almost to his mouth that I caught thefeebly-uttered syllables.

  Putting the candle to his face I saw that his eyes were fixed onvacancy, while huge drops of dank perspiration stood upon thetightly-drawn skin of the forehead.

  Evidently my mysterious acquaintance was dying rapidly. What was to bedone?

  The fatal secret was yet locked in his bosom.

  Maddened with a feverish anxiety I emptied the brandy remaining in theflask down his throat, afterwards wiping his pallid face with myhandkerchief.

  My efforts for a time seemed in vain, but by degrees the breathingbecame more perceptible. Presently he opened his eyes.

  "Thanks, thanks," he murmured, his hands clutching convulsively overmine with each respiration.

  "Are you better now?" I asked.

  He disregarded my question, and appeared to be