The Hunchback of Westminster

by William Le Queux

colonel's carriage as he drovetowards the Strand to slip out of the room. A minute later there arosethe sound of a loud commotion, as of doors banged and of horses urged toa gallop, and both of their broughams followed hard in the old soldier'swake.

  "You see," said Don Jose to me, with a little bitterness, "they are notmen big enough to face me out over this matter. They prefer to flingtheir poisoned darts at me and to leave them to work their own mischief,whilst they scuttle off like naughty children who have thrown somestones through a window and are quite content with the sight of thedamage they have done, without a thought of the anguish of thehouseholder. Well, well! all this is the trouble which you will nodoubt remember that I, at least, expected and warned you against when Iasked you to join forces with me. I must not now rail against my ownfate, but I do appeal to you--give me a fair chance, do not desert me."

  For an instant I wavered. This quest now had assumed truly giganticdimensions. Even Cooper-Nassington seemed only a dim, far-off figureagainst the overwhelming personality of Cuthbertson. More than that, Iknew if I clung to Casteno I should have one of the most stern fightswith Colonel Napier, who would stop at nothing to keep Doris apart fromme.

  None the less, I had my own notions of honour likewise, and it did notconcern me much that they differed from Earl Fotheringay's or Lord CyrilCuthbertson's. After all, had I not taken my fee from Don Jose? Had henot paid me all that I asked? Had I not passed him the sacred pledge ofmy word? And so, at last, I gave my decision.

  "I have seen nothing in your life, your behaviour, or your conduct," Icried, "to warrant me in throwing you over in the way those men havesuggested. Until I find some good reason to believe that yourintentions are dishonourable, that your career has been criminal, thatyour desires are hostile to England, I cannot desert you."

  "Well spoken," replied Don Jose earnestly. "Your determination does youcredit. Believe me, you shall find no cause to make you ashamed thatyou ever allied yourself with me. On the contrary, as you go deeperinto this business you will realise that you have done well to stick tome, however baffling and perplexing may seem some of the adventures Imay have to ask you to undertake. And that reminds me of the realbusiness we have in hand to-night! How did you get on at the House ofCommons with Cooper-Nassington?"

  "Very much better than I could have dared to expect," I replied withfrankness, and returning him his sealed packet addressed to Cuthbertson.In a few graphic sentences I described to him how I had gone to thehouse of the hunchback with the Member of Parliament, and theextraordinary adventures we had undergone there. Instead, however, ofbeing pleased with the result of the quest, I could see that theSpaniard was greatly disturbed at something that had happened on thatoccasion. At first he would not tell why we ought not to congratulateourselves that Zouche had promised to decipher those manuscripts andcommunicate their contents within a fortnight to Mr Cooper-Nassington.He tried to put me off with commonplace expressions like "Time willprove," "Never count your chickens," and "Trust no man further than youcan throw him;" but when he realised that I was not going to be deniedhe admitted that my news about the attempts on the hunchback's life wasmuch more serious than anybody had any idea of, because they mightterrify Zouche and make him do things he would not otherwise dream of.

  "But we two are men with brains, hands, resolution," I interjected."Why need we stand by and let other people like Fotheringay come in andbenefit by our labours? Let us mount guard over Zouche until he has gotthrough his task of deciphering the documents."

  "That's exactly what I was thinking," returned Casteno, "but it is notso easy to do as it seems. For one thing, Zouche would not let us actin the capacity of his guardians if he knew we had any aspirations atall for that office. Another thing--where can we hide ourselves? Andthen," he added after a significant pause, "I wanted you to be busy onanother mission. I had a particular reason for wishing that you shouldgo down to Southampton to-morrow afternoon, when the royal mail steamer_Atrato_ is expected. A lady whom I want you to meet is coming by thatboat. As a matter of fact, she is bringing certain valuable documentsfor me and for the Order of St Bruno, and she will need all theprotection you can give her between the Solent and the Thames if sheisn't kidnapped by some friends of Fotheringay, who, when he was inMexico, learnt all about her treasures."

  "In that case you must watch the hunchback," I said decisively, "whilstI run down from Waterloo to Southampton. The whole business won't takeme more than ten hours from London to dock and dock to London."

  "But how on earth shall I watch Zouche? How shall I gain admission tohis shop without his knowledge? And where can I hide myself without anyundue risk of being found out?"

  "A house like his, full of the most extraordinary curiosities, is thebest hiding-place one could have," I replied. "The only trouble is toget inside it, but I am sure if I go with you and help you, and we watchour chance, say whilst his man is taking down the shutters, we can bothslip in and run up to the first-floor showroom, which is over theparlour. Once there I will help you to conceal yourself, and also openup for you a peep-hole in the ceiling of the room where the hunchbackdoes his research work, without the slightest fear you will be pouncedon. Why, old curiosity shops in London are never disturbed or dusted!Dust is part of the stock-in-trade. Most dealers seem perfectlysatisfied if they sell one thing out of each room per week--and oftenthat one thing may be merely a miniature or a coin!"

  "All right, I'll leave the arrangements with you," answered theSpaniard, with a laugh. "For the present, however, the most importantthing for you at least seems to be sleep. I propose, therefore, thatbefore we make another move of any kind you turn in and get a few hours'sleep whilst I mount guard."

  "Yes, I'm tired," I admitted, with a half-smothered yawn; "and, afterall, we can do nothing at the hunchback's until about nine o'clock, so Ithink I will do as you suggest." And placing some more coal on the fireI wished him good-night and made my way to my adjacent bedroom, where,throwing myself on the sofa, I closed my eyes and endeavoured to pushmyself off into a soft, dreamless slumber.

  Now it is a curious thing that, whereas in the ordinary way I am aboutone of the heaviest and solidest sleepers you could meet in a day'sjourney, when danger threatens me or my interests I seem to have somespecial intuition which keeps me awake and sensitive to the slightestomen or sound. I can't explain it. There it is. Ever since I was aboy I have possessed it, and not once has it failed to warn me when Iought to be up and about.

  And the odd part of it was that it made itself most painfully evidentthis night on which Don Jose Casteno proffered to look after me. Invain I heard his own soft and regular breathing as I crept to thehalf-open door noiselessly and listened to his movements. In vain Idrew the clothes right over my head and conjured up sheep jumping over astile; pigs elbowing each other through a half-open gate; dogs passingin endless procession, each with a most plaintive look of entreaty thatI should wear my brain out counting them for some unseen but remorselessmaster-calculator--I could not go to sleep. Even the Brahmin magic word"O--om," which I repeated slowly twice a minute, expelling the air eachtime most completely from my lungs, failed to hypnotise me. And thenall at once I heard something--a slow grating sound that seemed tosuggest treachery and mischief.

  With all my senses painfully alert I wriggled off my bed and went onhands and knees, dressed only in my trousers and shirt, to the door ofmy outer office. To my surprise I found Casteno, crouching on his kneesalso, in front of the fire, which threw a powerful rosy glare on hisclean-shaven features. He had pulled a long evil-looking dagger out ofa belt hidden near his waist and was sharpening its edge on thehearthstone!

  He meant mischief. To whom?

  Suddenly, before I had time to think, he rose, and taking up hisclerical-looking hat he stepped noiselessly across the office andhastened off down the street, a look of terrible resolution on his face.

  Whither was he bound?

  Had he heard something that had put him on his guard a
s he sat crouchedover the fire in my arm-chair? Had he seen something or somebody thatmeant mischief to me? Or had he suddenly resolved to take advantage ofthose early morning hours to avenge himself on some enemy who lived nearat hand? That was where I felt myself as up against a solid wall; itwas so hard to divine what was at the back of a foreign stranger with apast that might have been crowded with duel and vendetta and adventurethat had given birth to a dozen most deadly hatreds and lusts forrevenge.

  Half mechanically I went to the doorway and peered through the earlymorning haze up and down Stanton Street. I could see no one--nothingsuspicious--nothing suggestive at all. I was just about to return to mybedroom when I was startled by something playing about my