CHAPTER L.
EZRA LYNN, THE MONEY-LENDER.
At Charing Cross Dr. Vinsen alighted, and Gracie descended from theroof in the manner generally adopted by females, with her back insteadof her face to the horses, which is by far the more dangerous way ofthe two to climb down from an omnibus. But, Gracie being a girl ofunusual sharpness and penetration, it may be that she got down thatway for the purpose of keeping her eye upon Dr. Vinsen, and if thiswere so she was quite successful, for she did not lose sight of himfor a single moment, despite the busy throng of people hurrying in alldirections, and the bewildering entanglement of vehicles of everydescription, which render this part of London at mid-day one of themost marvellous demonstrations of the civilised life of a great citythat can be met with all the world over.
It was now one o'clock, and the newsboys were shouting out the earlyeditions of the evening newspapers, for if there is one thing uponwhich modern journalism especially prides itself, it is that it cantake time by the forelock and can hurry the rising and the setting ofthe sun. In these shouts and cries Dr. Vinsen--still lingering withthe uncertain air upon him by which his previous movements had beendistinguished--appeared to take great interest, listening to themintently and scanning such portions of the contents-bills carried bythe boys as were visible in the midst of the hurly-burly. The familiarcry of "The Great Catchpole Square Mystery!" was as potent a bait asever to purchasers, among whom Dr. Vinsen was not the least eager.Gracie saw on the contents-bills such headlines as "Emphatic Statementof Mr. Reginald Boyd," "The Coroner's Reproof to the Juryman," and"Mrs. Abel Death under examination," and she herself expended ahalfpenny in literature, but did not stop to read the paper, her wholeattention being required to watch her game and to elude detection.
At the corner of Parliament Street Dr. Vinsen entered a bus thatcrossed Westminster Bridge. There was no room on the roof for Gracie,and she dared not get inside, so she ran along the pavement, herbreath coming thick and fast; there was plenty of space in this widethoroughfare for the vehicle to put on a spurt, and the horsesgalloped smartly on. Luckily for Gracie there was a stoppage at thetop of Parliament Street to enable passengers to get in and out, andshe could recover her breath; and when the omnibus started again thetraffic on the bridge was crowded, so that she trotted along quitecomfortably, and had no difficulty in keeping her game in view. At theend of the bridge Dr. Vinsen got out and sauntered on past St.George's Hospital and the shabby old site of Astley's Theatre, hauntedby memories of Ducrow and Ada Menken--names strange to the risinggeneration, though once upon a time they made all London ring--andpast a medley of mean shops, till, on the opposite side of the road,he called a halt before a warehouse where portmanteaus and travellingtrunks were manufactured.
Under a verandah in front of this warehouse were a number of trunks, afew of which bore on their lids the names or initials, newly paintedin white, of the customers for whom they had been made. Two bore thesame name, Signor Corsi, and it was these which had the greatestattraction for Dr. Vinsen. They were of large size and special make,far superior to the ordinary travelling trunk. Entering the warehouse,he came out presently accompanied by a man, either the proprietor orone of his salesmen, who opened one of the trunks and pointed out itsexceptional features. It was of peculiar construction; the interiorwas padded, and there were receptacles lined with soft material, inwhich articles could be deposited with little fear of breakage. Theinterest which Dr. Vinsen took in the trunks and the long conversationbetween him and the salesman, whetted Gracie's curiosity, and sheburned to know the why and the wherefore; but being compelled to keepat a safe distance, she could not hear a word that was spoken.Finally, Dr. Vinsen entered the warehouse again, and did not make hisreappearance for twelve minutes by a clock in the shop near which shewas lingering. He and the salesman stood chattering at the door foranother minute or two, and it seemed to Gracie as if he had given anorder, for he made an entry in his pocketbook; then he turned his faceKennington way and hailed a tramcar. Gracie scrambled up to the roof,where she opened her paper and read the report of the inquest up tothe time of going to press. Folding the paper carefully, she put it inthe bosom of her frock.
Dr. Vinsen did not leave the tram till it had reached its terminus.This part of London was new to Gracie, and they were now some milesfrom Draper's Mews. "If he lives here," she thought, "it's a long wayfor him to come to us." That he did live there was proved by hisstopping before a house of decent pretensions and opening the doorwith his own private latchkey. There was a little brass plate attachedto the side of the door, and creeping past it Gracie read on it thename, "Ezra Lynn," and beneath it in smaller letters the announcement,"Sums of from AL5 to AL15,000 advanced at a low rate of interest onpromissory note alone, without any sureties or security whatever, andwithout any beforehand charges. The strictest privacy and secrecyobserved." Gracie's eyes dilated at the magnitude of the sum, AL15,000,and for a moment her idea was that Dr. Vinsen had gone into the houseto borrow that amount; the next moment she fell to speculating uponthe strange circumstance that Dr. Vinsen should possess a privatelatchkey to such an Aladdin's Cave. "I wonder!" she said to herself.It was sufficiently expressive for her understanding, but it went nofarther in speech.
She felt hungry, it being now past three o'clock, and she went into abaker's shop nearly opposite the house of Ezra Lynn and asked for apenny loaf. Behind the counter was a motherly woman with a baby in herarms. She gazed kindly at Gracie, and passed the crummiest penny loafin her stock across the counter.
"You seem tired, child," she said, stopping in the middle of a littlenursery song she was singing to her baby.
"Oh, no, ma'am," said Gracie, digging a piece out of the loaf andsmiling at the baby. Gracie was fond of babies.
"And hungry," said the woman.
"Yes, I _am_ hungry."
"Wouldn't you like a bun better?"
"This is more filling," said practical Gracie.
"Dear heart, what a sensible little mite! And how dusty! You don'tlook very strong."
"Ah, but I am; you mustn't go by looks," said Gracie, and encouragedby the woman's kind voice, she asked if she could have a glass ofwater.
"You shall have a glass of milk," said the woman, going to an innerroom and returning with it.
"It's good of you," said Gracie, simply, "I'm ever so much obliged toyou. May I eat my loaf here?"
"Certainly, child, and sit down and rest."
The chair she pointed to had its back to the window from which EzraLynn's house was visible; Gracie turned it round, so that she facedit. There she sat awhile, munching her bread and drinking her milk. Aman came into the shop, poorly dressed, haggard, with distress in hisface, and yet with a certain defiant independence in his manner.
"Will you trust me half-a-quartern, missis?" he said, abruptly.
The woman shook her head. "You're deep enough in my books already, Mr.Mildew, and I can't afford to let you get deeper. Charity begins athome."
"And stops there," said the man. "All right. I thought I'd try. Myheart's fairly broke trying to get work. It doesn't much matter. Thekiddies must starve!" He turned to leave the shop.
This touched Gracie's heart. She knew what poverty was; she knew whatit was to want bread. "The kiddies must starve" fell upon her like ablow.
Of the money which Dick had given to her she had only spent twopencein fares and a halfpenny for a paper, and she had more thanhalf-a-crown left. "The kiddies must starve!" Not if she could help it.The price of bread was marked up in the shop window, "Fivepence perquartern, full weight." She put twopence halfpenny on the counter.
"Please let him have the bread, ma'am."
The man stared at her; the woman's face flushed.
"Take your money back, child," she said. "You shall have the bread,Mr. Mildew: it won't break me."
She weighed the loaf, which was short of two pounds; it needed a piecefor make-weight, and, the fount of kindness open, she was notp
articular to an ounce.
"Thank you, missis," said the man, "I'll pay you the first money Iearn, though God knows where I'm to get work. And thank _you_, little'un; you don't live on the fat of the land, from the looks of you.I've got a girl about your size and weight at home." He repeated theword with savage emphasis. "Home! There'll be none to-morrow. Rentowing, money owing. Out into the streets we go. That's the law."
"It's got to be obeyed, Mr. Mildew," said the woman. "It's hard lines,I own, but it's got to be obeyed. What does Mr. Lynn say? Won't hegive you time?"
"Not an hour, not a minute. He's sucked me dry, and sucked the lastdrop out of me. Him give time!--with the law on his side! I'd like togrind my heel into his face!"
"You're not the only one," said the woman.
"That's no comfort. Look here, missis, just cast your eye overthis"--he pulled out a tattered penny account book--"it's all set downin plain figures. Twelve months ago--here's the date--he lent me fourpounds, and took a bill of sale on my bits of sticks. I didn't get thefour pounds--it was eighteen shillings short, for expenses andinquiries and interest in advance. Three pound two, that's as much asI got, and I had to pay half-a-crown a week for fifty-two weeks. If Iwas a week behindhand there was a fine of sixpence, which kept onbeing charged and put down against me till that week was paid up. Itwas all a muddle, and I don't pretend to understand it, but a mate ofmine that's quick at reckoning has figured it out, and he says itcomes to more than six hundred per cent, interest. All I know is thatI've paid five pound ten for that three pound two I got from him, andnow he makes out I owe him twice as much again. And the law gives himright. What I say is, damn the law, and them that made it, and themthat fatten on it!"
It was pitiable to witness the passion and the helplessness of theman.
Gracie, listening to this tale of wrong-doing, and never losing sightof Ezra Lynn's door, saw it opened, and saw a man come from the house,a thin, slinking, sly-faced man in rusty black, whom she supposed tobe Ezra Lynn; but she was presently undeceived.
"There's his jackal," said the man in the baker's shop, "that collectsfor him, and grinds the poor chaps down that's drawn into his mill.Grinds 'em down, blood, bones, heart, and soul. Mr. Lynn's too grandnow to do the small dirty work himself. It was different once I'vebeen told, missis."
"Yes," said the woman, "I remember when Mr. Lynn first set up as amoney-lender in the neighbourhood; they say he started with a hundredpounds, but a man like that, who wouldn't step aside to save a humancreature's life, soon grows rich."
"He's worse than the lowest pickpocket," said the man "I've heard hecould set up his carriage, if he liked. He's got big fish to lookafter now; he leaves his jackal to look after the sprats."
"I warned you, you know," said the woman, "when you told me you weregetting a loan from him."
"I know you did, but I had a child to bury, and I couldn't get themoney anywhere else. Then my missis fell ill----"
He broke off suddenly. "I've had my share of trouble, I think."
"That you have, and I'm sorry for you. You're not the first by many ascore that that man's ruined. And to talk to him you wouldn't believethat he'd pull a leg off a fly."
"If it wasn't for the law," said the man, morosely, "I'd have hisblood!"
The door on the opposite side of the road opened again, and Dr. Vinsenappeared on the threshold, buttoning his glove; a look of hate andfear darkened the man's features.
"You'd hardly believe there was so much wickedness under that smoothface of his," said the woman.
"Smooth face, black heart," muttered the man, leaving the shophurriedly, and crossing over to Dr. Vinsen.
Gracie rose and made a step towards the door; she dared not leave theshop, for Dr. Vinsen stood immediately facing it. Her heart wasbeating violently, but her face was quite composed.
"Who is that gentleman, ma'am?" she asked.
"That's the man we've been speaking of," the woman replied, "Mr. EzraLynn. I don't call him a gentleman myself."
"Would you mind telling me," continued Gracie, "if you know Dr.Vinsen?"
"Vinsen--Vinsen," said the woman, considering. "I never heard thename. I don't think he lives in this neighbourhood. Bless my soul!What's the child after?"
Gracie had dashed out of the shop. She had seen Mr. Mildew approachDr. Vinsen and accost him; she had seen Dr. Vinsen smile and shake hishead; she had seen the man raise his fist, as if he were about tostrike, and then, afraid that his passion might carry him too far,turn quickly upon his heel and walk away; she had seen Dr. Vinsen haila hansom cab and get into it; and it was then that she ran out of theshop. Off rattled the cab, and Gracie after it. A couple of hundredyards, and her breath was gone, and the cab out of sight.
"It's a good job I didn't catch up to it," said Gracie, panting on thekerb. "He might have seen me, and all the fat would be in the fire.I've got something to tell Dick. We'll make Scotland Yard sit up. Butwhat does it all mean--what does it all mean?"
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 51