The Toll-Gate

by Georgette Heyer

  ‘Lord, has Bow Street been asking questions about me at the Horse Guards? I shall never hear the end of it!’

  ‘I don’t know about that, but by what I can make out nothing you done wouldn’t surprise the gentleman which supplied the information,’ said Stogumber dryly. ‘But, Capting Staple, I’d take it very kind in you if you was to explain to me why, since it seems you’ve took to gatekeeping by way of knocking up a lark, you was so careful not to let me think as you’d seen my Occurrence Book t’other night?’

  ‘You’re fair and far off,’ John replied. ‘I didn’t turn myself into a gatekeeper for any such reason. Nor did I know, when I saw your book, what had brought you here.’

  The unblinking stare was once more bent upon him. ‘Oh! And do you now – if I ain’t taking a liberty?’

  ‘Yes, I know now, which is why I’ve come to see you. You are trying to find a certain consignment of currency, which was stolen about three weeks ago at the Wansbeck ford.’

  ‘How might you have discovered that?’ demanded Stogumber, his stare hardening.

  ‘Partly through you, partly through the man to whom you owe your life. You asked me once if I knew the Wansbeck ford. I didn’t, but when I mentioned it to – Jerry – he told me what had happened there. He reads the newspapers; I don’t. No, he had nothing to do with the robbery: in fact, his ambition is to leave his present calling, and settle down to pound dealing and married life.’

  ‘It is, is it? P’raps he knew where the baggage was hid?’

  ‘He didn’t know, but he knows this district,’ said John significantly.

  Stogumber half started up from his chair, and sank back again, wincing a little. ‘Are you telling me that bridle-cull has boned the fence?’ he gasped.

  ‘If you mean, has he discovered where the treasure is hidden, yes. He tells me it is where no one would ever find it who did not know this district very well.’

  Mr Stogumber breathed heavily.

  ‘However,’ continued John, sternly repressing a twitching lip, ‘the knowledge is perfectly safe with him. He seems to think that this currency is far too dangerous to be touched.’ He watched the effect of this pronouncement, and was satisfied. ‘What he is anxious to do is to reveal its whereabouts to the proper authorities.’

  ‘Tell him,’ said Mr Stogumber earnestly, ‘that there’s a fat reward for the cove as does that!’

  ‘He knows it. But what he doesn’t know is how safe it may be for a bridle-cull to meddle in such matters.’

  ‘Who’s to say as he’s a bridle-cull?’ demanded Stogumber. ‘He never gave me no reason to think he was! Come to think of it, I’d say he weren’t, because he never took nothing off me, and he might have, easy!’ He added, after a pause for thought: ‘Besides which, bridle-culls ain’t none of my business. I’m a Conductor – sent on this task special!’

  ‘Where’s your patrol?’ asked John, surprised.

  ‘That’s my business, Capting. Don’t you fret: I can summon my patrol fast enough, even though I don’t see fit to have ’em taking up their quarters in this here village so as everyone can wonder how there come to be so many strangers suddenly wishful to visit Crowford!’ said Mr Stogumber, with asperity.

  ‘Well, you won’t need them,’ said John cheerfully. ‘I am going to be your patrol.’

  ‘Thanking you kindly, sir, I don’t know as I need trouble you.’

  ‘But I do. Without me, Stogumber, you won’t find the treasure, or lay your hands on the man who stole it – and I fancy you wish to do that. Of course, if I’m mistaken, and you’re content to recover the currency, I’ll tell Jerry to disclose his information to you with no more ado. But if you want the thief as well, then you must leave it to me to bring you to him.’

  ‘Ho! And p’raps, Capting Staple, sir, I know already who stole it!’

  ‘I should think, undoubtedly you must have at least a strong suspicion,’ agreed John. ‘And I am quite certain that you have no proof, and no possibility of finding proof, unless I take a hand. Would you consider it proof enough if you found the thief and the treasure together?’

  ‘I don’t ask no more!’ said Stogumber, fixedly regarding him.

  ‘Then nurse that shoulder of yours until you hear from me again,’ said John. ‘Let it be known that you are a great deal weaker than you are, and in no case to stir out of doors. It would be an excellent notion if you were to put your arm in a sling. You have been recognized: if you are thought to have been too badly hurt to be dangerous, my task will be the easier. I believe I may be able to deliver your man into your hands, but you must let me go to work in my own way. I shan’t keep you waiting for long, I hope.’

  There was a long silence, while Stogumber wrestled with himself in thought. Suddenly he said: ‘Capting Staple, to cut no wheedle, there’s two men as I’m after, not one!’

  ‘That is why I didn’t, at the outset, tell you that I’d bubbled your lay,’ responded John coolly. ‘In the position I’m in, the suspicion that you were also after Henry Stornaway made it damned awkward for me! Since then, however, I’ve been able to satisfy myself that you’re wrong in thinking he has been anything more than a foolish catspaw in the business.’

  ‘I daresay you have; but you ain’t satisfied me!’ said Stogumber. ‘I’ll tell you to your head, sir, it weren’t Coate as led me to this place, but Stornaway!’

  There was nothing in John’s face to betray how very unwelcome this piece of information was to him. Bent on discovering the extent of Stogumber’s knowledge, he shrugged, and said: ‘Because the silly goosecap made friends with a rogue?’

  ‘No, sir, because he made friends with a certain party as works in the Treasury, which I ain’t going to name, because he’s an honest cove, even if he is a gabster, and got to mentioning things he shouldn’t ought to have breathed to no one! It was Stornaway which knew when that consignment was to be sent off to Manchester; and the reason young – the other party – talked of it was that it weren’t an ordinary consignment, not by any manner of means it weren’t! That currency, Capting, ain’t been seen yet, because it’s the new gold money, which makes it interesting. Ah, and dangerous!’

  ‘So that’s it, is it?’ said John, admirably simulating surprise. ‘And because one gabster whispers the interesting news to another, who in his turn passes it on to I daresay every friend he happens to meet, you think he planned the robbery! Perhaps even took part in all the violent deeds performed at Wansbeck ford!’

  ‘I don’t know as I go so far as to say he took part in it, but that he was the cove as planned it I got good reason to think!’ said Stogumber, a little stung by the mockery in John’s voice.

  Almost sighing his relief, John retorted: ‘Then I fancy you’re not acquainted with Henry Stornaway!’ He burst out laughing. ‘Good God, man, he is the most blubber-headed flat I ever encountered in all my days! Foolish beyond permission – a bleater, created to be nailed by every leg in town! The clumsiest gull-catcher could do him, brown as a berry, only by flattering him a little before pitching him his gammon! Have you seen him? He’s a Bartholomew baby, and thinks himself a buck of the first head. He wears a driving coat with fifteen capes, and a very down-the-road man you would take him to be, until you saw him handling the ribbons! It is such pigeons as he who keep the Coates of this world up in the stirrups!’

  Suspicion, incredulity, doubt, uneasiness seemed to possess the Runner’s mind in turn. He said: ‘Ay, but Stornaway ain’t well-breeched – not by any means he ain’t!’

  ‘Not so well-breeched as he was before he became acquainted with Coate!’ replied John, drawing a bow at a venture.

  ‘That might be so,’ agreed Stogumber cautiously. ‘But what made him bring Coate here, if he didn’t know nothing about the robbery?’

  ‘Coate did,’ instantly responded the Captain. ‘The devil of a fellow is Coate, you know! A clipping rider – and always
horses of the right stamp! Never been bullfinched in his life! Hobnobs with all the Melton men; rattles you off a dozen great names in a sentence; knows every on-dit of Society; and will introduce you to what he would have you believe to be the most exclusive gaming-clubs in town! Lord, he had only to hint that he would be glad to rusticate for a space, had always, perhaps, had a fancy to visit Derbyshire, and Stornaway would be so much flattered he would jump at the chance of entertaining such a Blood!’

  ‘I’m not saying that mightn’t be so,’ said Stogumber slowly, ‘but when he found Coate wasn’t made welcome at the Manor, and was making up to Miss Stornaway till she was fair persecuted by him – which anyone can learn only by putting his listeners forward in this here village – why would he drive his old grandpa into his coffin sooner than tell Coate to show his shapes? What makes him so set on keeping him up at Kellands?’

  ‘I have my own notion about that,’ returned the Captain with ready mendacity. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Stornaway’s deep in debt to him. In fact, I’d be willing to lay you odds on it. Now, you thought I had taken Brean’s place to knock up a lark, but you were mistaken. I reached the gate after dark last Saturday, and when I found that urchin you’ve seen in charge of it, and scared out of his wits, and heard that his father had gone out for an hour the night before and hadn’t been seen since, I thought there was something damned smoky going on. Well, Stogumber, I have an odd liking for the unusual, and it seemed to me I might find it interesting to discover just what was afoot. It wasn’t long before I had learned that both Sir Peter and Miss Stornaway were persuaded that Coate was playing an under-game. They were excessively uneasy, and each of them attempted to convince Henry that his friend was by no means the bang-up Corinthian he thinks him, but a regular Captain Sharp. He didn’t believe them. In his besotted eyes, they were a pair of country bumpkins, unable to recognize a choice spirit when they saw one. What, in the name of all that was wonderful, he asked them, could a Captain Sharp find to gain in this sleepy place? They had no more notion than he had: they still have none – but either something has happened to shake Henry’s confidence in Coate, or his grandfather’s words set up a seed of doubt in his mind. Perhaps Coate’s man disclosed your presence in the district. I don’t know that, but I do know that Henry too has become uneasy. Since he is by far too cowhearted to tell a bully like Coate to pack his trunks, he has taken to his bed on one of the flimsiest excuses I ever heard. In any ordinary case that would certainly be a way of getting rid of an unwanted guest, but this is not an ordinary case, and it has failed. It is time Henry learned just what the case is. If he does not die of heart failure, he will be mighty anxious to prove to the world that although he may have been a dupe he was never a robber or a murderer.’

  ‘Or mighty anxious to warn Coate they’ve been rumbled!’ interjected Stogumber, his eyes never wavering from the Captain’s face.

  ‘Coate don’t need warning: he knows who you are. If Stornaway were in his confidence, he’d know that too. If you are right in your suspicions, neither of them will stir an inch. But if you are wrong, Stornaway will do what he can to save himself from being arrested as an accomplice, and so bringing his name into dishonour.’

  ‘I’ll allow he might – if I am wrong,’ acknowledged Stogumber. ‘P’raps you’ll tell me, sir, how he could set about convincing me – me not being easy to convince?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll tell you,’ John answered. ‘The hiding place of your sovereigns would occur only to those who know this country well, remember! Jerry knows it, and it plainly occurred to him very speedily. Well, Stornaway knows it too! He may think I am telling him a Banbury story, but if he is innocent he won’t hesitate to go with me to this hiding place, to discover what truth there may be in my tale.’

  Mr Stogumber thought this over. After a lengthy pause, he demanded: ‘And how would that bring Coate next or nigh the hiding place?’

  ‘Stogumber, when you set a trap, do you tell people where it lies, and what you have baited it with?’

  ‘No,’ said Stogumber, staring at him. ‘I can’t say as I do.’

  ‘Nor do I!’ said the Captain, with the flash of a disarming grin.

  Sixteen

  Towards midday, Mr Babbacombe strolled down the road to the toll-house. Saturday was a busy day on the road, and he found the Captain very much occupied, and did not for some time venture to approach nearer to the toll-house than the gate opening into Huggate’s big meadow, against which he leaned negligently while his friend opened the pike to several vehicles, exchanged bucolic witticisms with a cattle drover, forced the driver of a large waggon to dismount from the back of the fore-horse, and drew the attention of an indignant gentleman to the overladen condition of his cart. During a lull in these proceedings, Mr Babbacombe, deeply appreciative, seized the opportunity to enter the toll-house. He had marshalled some powerful arguments, which he faintly hoped might dissuade the Captain from whatever fell scheme he had in mind, but as his masterly delivery of these was continually interrupted by calls of Gate! much of their force was lost, and he could not feel that the Captain, though amiable, was lending more than half an ear to them. Discouraged, he presently withdrew to the kitchen, where several covered pots, left by Mrs Skeffling round the clear fire, simmered gently, and a large pie, flanked by a fresh-baked loaf of bread and a cheese, stood on the table.

  Mr Babbacombe was surveying through his quizzing-glass these preparations for the Captain’s dinner when a footfall sounded in the garden, and a shadow darkened the open doorway. He looked up, and found himself confronting quite the tallest woman he had ever beheld. She was dressed for riding, her whip in her hand, and the tail of her dress caught up over her arm. A startled exclamation broke from her. ‘Oh – !’

  Mr Babbacombe, showing rare acumen, proved himself instantly equal to the situation. Bowing gracefully, he said: ‘Beg you will come in, ma’am! Ah – Mrs Staple, I apprehend?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘No, I – Why – why, yes!’ She blushed, and laughed. ‘I beg your pardon! You must think me quite gooseish! The truth is – But if you are a friend of – of my husband’s, you must know what the truth is!’

  He put forward a chair for her. ‘Er – yes! Wilfred Babbacombe, ma’am, entirely at your service! Beg you will accept my felicitations!’

  She took the chair, but said, with one of her direct looks: ‘I think any friend of Captain Staple’s must deplore his marriage – in such haste, and upon such short acquaintance. I know that it was wrong of me to have consented!’

  ‘No, no, not at all!’ Mr Babbacombe hastened to assure her. He reflected, and added: ‘Come to think of it, wouldn’t be Jack if he didn’t get married in some dashed odd fashion! Never knew such a fellow! Just the thing for him! Wish you both very happy!’

  At that moment, the Captain came in from the office. ‘Bab, if you mean to stay to – Nell!’ He strode forward, and she rose quickly to meet him, giving him her hands and her lips. ‘Sweetheart! But how is this? How have you come here? Have you been evading the toll again?’

  ‘Yes, shall you report me? I left my horse in the spinney, and slipped in through the garden-gate.’

  ‘I perceive I’ve married the most complete hand! And you found only this fribble here to welcome you! Bab, I must present you to my wife. Babbacombe, my love, is the man I was on my way to visit when I decided instead to become a gatekeeper. He arrived yesterday, trying to nose out my business, and stood guard here last night, whilst I was otherwise employed.’

  ‘Already had the honour of making myself known to Mrs Staple,’ bowed Mr Babbacombe. ‘Just wishing you both very happy! Feel bound to say I never saw a better matched pair! I won’t intrude on you: daresay you have much to say to each other!’

  ‘No, pray don’t go away!’ Nell said. ‘Indeed, I must only remain for a minute!’

  ‘Your grandfather?’ John said.

  ‘Oh, John, he – Dr
Bacup thinks this sleep he is in is coma. He has scarcely roused since I left him last night, and it may be that he will not again. But if he does – you must see that I cannot stay!’

  ‘Of course. You’ll send me word. And particularly if you should need me, my love! Remember, you are mine now! No one can harm you in any way, and it will be very much the worse for anyone who tries to! Oh, confound that gate!’ He kissed her hands, and released them. ‘I must go. Bab will take you to your horse. But tell me one thing more! Is your cousin still abed?’

  ‘No, I believe not. I have not seen him, however. Don’t be afraid he will tease me! I am always in my own or Grandpapa’s rooms, and Winkfield has forbidden Henry to come into that wing. Since he knocked him down, Henry is a great deal too much afraid of him to make the attempt!’

  He was obliged to go, for the shouts from the gate were becoming exasperated; and when he was able to return, Mr Babbacombe had just come back from escorting her to where she had tethered her horse.

  The rest of the day passed without incident. Mr Babbacombe did not leave the toll-house until dusk, when he returned to the Blue Boar for dinner; and although he would have gone back to sit chatting to John after this repast, he was not allowed to do so, since John expected to see Chirk as soon as it was dark, and did not feel that he would take kindly to the presence of a stranger.

  But it was not, after all, until past midnight that John heard the owl’s hoot. He set the door wide, and, as Chirk led Mollie through the wicket, said: ‘I had given you up! What the deuce kept you so late?’

  ‘That ain’t a question as you should ask a cove of my calling, Soldier!’ retorted Chirk.

  ‘Well, stable the mare, and come into the house!’

  In a few minutes, Chirk entered the kitchen. He threw his hat on to a chair, but removed his greatcoat with noticeable care. This did not escape the Captain’s eye. ‘Winged?’ he enquired.