CHAPTER XXIV
BACK TO ENGLAND
We started for England the next night, second class, and travelled rightthrough, as I stood the journey better than any of us expected. After wecrossed the frontier, I doubt if any of our fellow travellers, or anyone else, for the matter of that, had the least suspicion that I was aprisoner being taken back to stand my trial on the gravest of allcharges, and not merely an invalid, assiduously tended by my twocompanions. I didn't even realize the fact myself at the time,--or atleast I only realized it now and then.
"Well, Mr. Wynn, you've looked your last on Russia, and jolly glad Ishould be if I were you," Freeman remarked cheerfully when we were inthe train again, on the way to Konigsberg.
"Looked my last,--what do you mean?" Even as I spoke I remembered why hewas in charge of me, and laughed.
"Oh, I suppose you think you're going to hang me on this preposterousmurder charge."
He was upset that I should imagine him guilty of such a breach of whathe called professional etiquette, as, it seemed, any reference to mypresent position would have been.
"I meant that, if you wanted to go back, you wouldn't be allowed to.They've fired you out, and won't have you again at any price," heexplained stiffly.
"Oh, won't they? I guess they will if I want to go. Look here, Freeman,I bet you twenty dollars, say five pounds English, that I'll be back inRussia within six months from this date,--that is, if I think fit,--andthat they'll admit me all right. You'd have to trust me, for I can'tdeposit the stakes at present; I will when we get back to England. Is ita deal?"
His answer was enigmatic, and I took it as complimentary.
"Well, you are a cough-drop!" he exclaimed. "No, I can't take thebet,--'twouldn't be professional; though I'd like to know, withoutprejudice, as the lawyers say, why on earth you should want to go back.I should have thought you'd had quite enough of it."
I could not tell him the real reason,--that, if I lived, I should neverrest till I had at least learned the fate of Anne Pendennis.
"There's a fascination about it," I explained. "They're back in themiddle ages there; and you never know what's going to happen next, toyourself or any one else."
"Well, I'm--blessed! You'd go back just for that!"
"Why, certainly," I assented.
There were several things I'd have liked to ask him, but I did notchoose to; for I guessed he would not have answered me. One was whetherhe had traced the old Russian whose coming had been the beginning of allthe trouble, so far as I was concerned, anyway; and how he knew that awoman--a red-haired woman as he had said--had been in Cassavetti's roomsthe night he was murdered.
If that woman were Anne--as in my heart I knew she must have been,though I wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge it--he must havediscovered further evidence that cleared her, or he would certainly havebeen prosecuting a search for her, instead of arresting me.
However, I hoped to get some light on the mystery either when my casecame before the magistrate, or between then and the trial, supposing Iwas committed for trial.
It was when we were nearing Dover, about three o'clock on a heavenlysummer morning, that I began to understand my position. We were all ondeck,--I lying at full length on a bench, with plenty of cushions aboutme, and a rug over me.
"Well, we're nearly in," Freeman remarked cheerfully. "Another fiveminutes will do it. Feel pretty fit?"
"Splendid," I answered, swinging my feet off the bench, and sitting up.
"That's all right. Here, take Harris's arm--so. I sha'n't worry aboutyour left arm; this will do the trick."
"This" meant that a handcuff was snapped round my right wrist, and itsfellow, connected with it by a chain, round Harris's left.
I shivered involuntarily at the touch of the steel, at the sensation ofbeing a prisoner in reality,--fettered!
"I say, that isn't necessary," I remonstrated, rather unsteadily. "Youmust know that I shall make no attempt to escape."
"Yes, I know that, but we must do things decently and in order," heanswered soothingly, as one would speak to a fractious child. "That'squite comfortable, isn't it? You'd have had to lean on one of us anyhow,being an invalid. There, the rug over your shoulder--so; not a soul willnotice it, and we'd go ashore last; we've a compartment reserved on thetrain, of course."
I dare say he was right, and that none of the many passengers noticedanything amiss; but I felt as if every one must be staring at me,--ahandcuffed felon. The "bracelet" didn't hurt me at all, like those thathad been forced on my swollen wrists in the Russian prison, and that hadadded considerably to the tortures I endured; but somehow it seemedmorally harder to bear,--as a slight but deliberate insult from one whohas been a friend hurts more than any amount of injury inflicted by anavowed enemy.
They were both as kind and considerate as ever during the last stage ofour journey. From Dover to Charing Cross, Harris, I know, sat in a mostcramped and uncomfortable position all the way, so that I should rest aseasily as possible; but in some subtle manner our relationship hadchanged. I had, of course, been their prisoner all along, but the factonly came home to me now.
From Charing Cross we went in a cab to the prison, through the sunnystreets, so quiet at this early hour.
"Cheer up," counselled Freeman, as I shook hands with him and Harris,from whom I was now, of course, unshackled. "You'll come before themagistrate to-morrow or next day; depends on what the doctor says. He'llsee you directly. You'll want to communicate with your friends at once,of course, and start arranging about your defence. I can send a wire, ortelephone to any one on my way home if you like."
He really was an astonishing good sort, though he had been implacable onthe handcuff question.
I thanked him, and gave him Jim Cayley's name and address and telephonenumber.
"All right; I'll let Mr. Cayley know as soon as possible," he said,jotting the details in his note-book. "What about Lord Southbourne?"
"I'll send word to him later."
I felt distinctly guilty with respect to Southbourne. I ought, ofcourse, to have communicated with him--or rather have got Freeman to doso--as soon as I began to pull round; but somehow I'd put off theunpleasant duty. I had disobeyed his express instructions, as poorCarson had done; and the disobedience had brought its own punishment tome, as to Carson, though in a different way; but Southbourne wouldaccount that as nothing. He would probably ignore me; or if he did notdo that, his interest would be strictly impersonal,--limited to theamount of effective copy I could turn out as a result of my experiences.
Therefore I was considerably surprised when, some hours afterwards,instead of Jim Cayley, whom I was expecting every moment, LordSouthbourne himself was brought up to the cell,--one of those kept forprisoners on remand, a small bare room, but comfortable enough, andrepresenting the acme of luxury in comparison with the crowded den inwhich I had been thrown in Petersburg.
Lord Southbourne's heavy, clean-shaven face was impassive as ever, andhe greeted me with a casual nod.
"Hello, Wynn, you've been in the wars, eh? I've seen Freeman. He saysyou were just about at the last gasp when he got hold of you, and ispluming himself no end on having brought you through so well."
"So he ought!" I conceded cordially. "He's a jolly good sort, and itwould have been all up with me in another few hours. Though how on earthhe could fix on me as Cassavetti's murderer, I can't imagine. It's afool business, anyhow."
"H'm--yes, I suppose so," drawled Southbourne, in that exasperatinglydeliberate way of his. "But I think you must blame--or thank--me forthat!"
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