CHAPTER XLIX.
LITTLE GRACIE DEATH ON THE TRAIL.
While her mother was being examined in the Coroner's Court, littleGracie Death, glowing with gratitude to Aunt Rob and her family, andsolemnly impressed with a sense of the importance of the task she hadundertaken, set out on the trail of Dr. Vinsen. She clearly understoodthat she was serving Dick's friends as well as Dick himself, but itwas of Dick she thought most, and it was him she most ardently wishedto serve. The attachments formed by children, and the ideals theycreate, are often stronger and more binding than those of men andwomen; and no stronger attachment was ever formed by a child, and nomore lofty and beautiful an ideal created than those which reigned inGracie's soul for Dick. Her heart throbbed with pride to think thatthe man she loved best in the world next to her father had taken herinto partnership, and had entrusted her with a mission. There was noindication of this on her quiet, sallow face, or in her black eyes.When passion is demonstrative it is far less enduring than when itlies hidden in the soul.
Gracie intended to fulfil the mission entrusted to her. Dick had saidthat between them they would make Scotland Yard sit up. Well, theywould. Inspired not only by the kiss which he had given her for goodluck, but by an absolute reliance upon herself, Gracie pondered uponher course of action. She must go somewhere. Where? She had no idea inwhich direction Dr. Vinsen lived, and she was not the kind of girl toflounder about without something to guide her. Once she set eyes uponhim she would stick to him like a limpet to a rock till her purposewas achieved. She turned her face homeward; he might by chance bethere.
He was there. She heard his voice as she was ascending the stairs, andshe paused to listen. He was asking the children for their mother, anda chorus of voices informed him that Mrs. Death had gone to the"inkage," which was the nearest approach the little ones could make to"inquest." Gracie thought it was a curious question for him to ask,because she had heard him and her mother speaking of Mrs. Death beinga witness in the inquiry. She crept up a step to hear what further hehad to say.
"And Gracie," he said, "where's our little Gracie--our lit-tleGra-cie? Has she gone to the 'inkage' too?" Who could doubt that it wasout of mere playfulness he gave their pronunciation of the word?
"Oh, no," answered the most forward of the children, "she can't getin, she can't. And mother didn't want her to."
Other questions of no importance were asked and answered, and then thedoor of the room was opened, and Gracie saw Dr. Vinsen's legs on thelanding. Down she slid, as noiselessly as a cat, out into the mews shesped, and from the recess of a neighbouring front door watched himissue from the house. He stopped and exchanged words with a woman whomGracie knew, and with whom she was a great favourite; they were closeto her hiding place, and Gracie heard what passed. He was verygracious, he smiled blandly, spoke in a smooth voice, and pushed hishat to the back of his head to wipe his brow, thereby affording aglimpse of his halo. To Gracie's surprise he was inquiring for heragain, and the woman could not inform him where she was.
"She's a busy little thing, sir," said the woman; "she runs in and outas if all the world and his wife was depending on her. We all likelittle Gracie Death."
"I trust she is deserving of it," said Dr. Vinsen, with a number ofamiable nods. "Sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have athankless child."
"If that's a dig into little Gracie," said the woman, with spirit,"it's what she don't deserve. Beggin' your pardon, sir, I won't havelittle Gracie run down."
"One for him," thought Gracie, with a chuckle. "Give it him hot.You're a good sort, Mrs. Thomson."
"Dear me, dear me!" said Dr. Vinson. "Run our little Gracie down--ourlit-tle Gra-cie down! No, no, indeed! The sweetest child, the sweetestchild!"
"That she is, sir," said the woman, "and I beg your pardon again forspeaking so hasty."
"No offence, my good creature, no offence," said Dr. Vinsen; "wherenone is meant, none should be taken. Is this your little one?" Asturdy blue-eyed toddlekins was tugging at her apron strings, and hestooped and patted the curly head. "Here's a penny for lollypops. Goodday--_good_ day!"
He raised his hat, which caused the woman to stare, and strolled outof Draper's Mews. She gave a start when Gracie glided from behind thedoor.
"I didn't want him to see me," said Gracie. "Thank you ever so muchfor sticking up for me."
And she, also, strolled out of Draper's Mews, and followed Dr. Vinsenat a distance so carefully and warily, and apparently with so muchunconcern, that no one would have suspected that she was engaged uponthe most important task she had ever undertaken. "Now I've got you,"was her thought, "and I don't let you go." She kept her sharp eyesfixed upon him. When he stopped she stopped, when he lingered shelingered, when he walked slowly she walked slowly, when he quickenedhis steps she quickened hers. It appeared as if he were undecided asto the course he should pursue, for now and then he looked about him,and seemed to debate which way to turn. It was evident that he had nodefinite business to attend to, and no definite goal to reach. Passinga public house of a superior kind, he had gone a dozen yards beyond itwhen he turned back and entered the private bar. Grace made a rapidsurvey, to see how many doors there were by which he could leave. Inpoint of fact, although of course it was a corner house, there wasonly one, but of this she was not aware, so she posted herself on theopposite corner and watched all the doors, and if there had been twiceas many she would have had eyes for them all. He remained a long timein the private bar, and when he made his reappearance he was still asundecided as to his course. It may have been out of mere idleness thathe entered a chemist's shop and purchased something, which he put intohis pocket as he came out. In this aimless way he and Gracie strolledon through Park Street, Islington, at one part of which he crossed theroad and looked up at the windows of a house. It was the house inwhich Reginald had lodged. Gracie noted the number, and would notforget it. So they strolled on, past the Grand Theatre, past Sadler'sWells, through Clerkenwell into Holborn, where he hailed a bus forCharing Cross, and got inside. "It's a good job Dick gave me somemoney," thought Gracie, as she scrambled to the top without beingobserved by the gentleman she had been following.
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 50