CHAPTER LIII.
GRACIE RELATES THE STORY OF HER ADVENTURES.
"Any news, Gracie," asked Dick.
"Lots," replied Gracie.
"About which one?"
"Both of 'em."
Aunt Rob, with an air of determination, seized Gracie's hand. "Comein, child, and tell us all about it," she said.
Gracie made no resistance, but looked at Dick for instructions.
"The fact is, aunt," he said, "Gracie and I have started on a voyageof discovery, and this is a little matter of business between us."
"The fact is," said Aunt Rob, sternly, "that there's been too manylittle matters of business between this one and that one, and too manysecrets that are kept from them who have the best call to know them,and whose hearts are pretty nigh broken by being kept in the dark.It's time it came to an end. What do you mean by your voyage ofdiscovery? Perhaps you think, because we're quiet and still, and don'tbreak into fits of crying, that we're happy and contented with thingsas they are. We look like it, don't we?"
"Dear aunt," he expostulated, but was not allowed to proceed.
"No, Dick, I'll not listen to your evasions, and I'm not going tostand this any longer. What is it all about, and what does everybodymean by holding conversations behind our backs, and saying things wemustn't hear, while we're expected to sit mum-chance on our chairs,eating our hearts away? Because we're women, I suppose, and aren't fitto be trusted! Mystery, mystery, mystery, nothing but mystery, andwe're to hold our tongues. I wouldn't have believed it of you, Dick.Do you mean to tell me that this little matter of business, and thisvoyage of discovery, as you call it, doesn't concern us?"
"It does concern you, but I give you my word, aunt, I don't know yetin what way."
"Let us help you. As it concerns us, you've no right to keep it fromus. Now, child, tell us your news."
Gracie shook her head, and still looked at Dick for her cue.
"You little brick!" he said, patting her sallow cheek. "Aunt, if youwere to beat her black and blue I don't believe she would say one wordwithout my permission.
"I wouldn't," said Gracie.
"That's a nice thing to say to me," said Aunt Rob, sarcastically. "I'min the habit of beating children black and blue--everybody who knowsme knows that."
"Everybody who knows you knows you to be staunch, and brave, andtrue," said Dick, kissing her, "and to have the kindest heart thatever beat in a woman's breast. You'll bear witness to that, won't you,Gracie?"
"Yes, I will."
"I'm not to be put off with a kiss," said Aunt Rob. "Let us hear whatconcerns us." The latter part of this conversation took place whilethey entered the house, and they were now in the sitting-room, withthe gas turned up. "Look at that white face." She pointed to Florence,who was standing tearless, with her hand at her heart. Dick's ownheart sank at the mute misery in her face. "Do what you can to relieveher anxiety, Dick."
"Let Dick act as he thinks best, mother," said Florence, but she stillkept her hand at her heart, and Dick felt that it would be worse thancruel to offer any further opposition to Aunt Rob's wishes.
"You shall hear what Gracie has to tell," he said, "but not a wordmust pass out of this room. There's a prologue to it."
He spoke of his impressions concerning Dr. Vinsen, and of hisconviction that there was a sinister motive to Reginald's prejudicebehind that gentleman's unsolicited kindness to Gracie's family; afterwhich he related how he and Gracie had entered into partnership thatmorning to track Dr. Vinsen and the vindictive juryman down, in thehope of discovering something that would be of service to them.
"It was an odd fancy of mine to call myself the captain and Gracie thefirst mate of the ship that was going on this voyage of discovery, andit's my opinion there will be high jinks if we succeed in bringingthat ship to anchor. Now, mate, for your news. Have you seen Dr.Vinsen?"
"Yes, Dick, I've seen a lot of him," said Gracie, "but his name ain'tVinsen, and he ain't a doctor."
"By Jove!" said Dick, under his breath. "Who and what is he, Gracie?"
"He's a money-lender, and his name is Ezra Lynn."
"That's the first trick to us," said Dick. "Begin at the beginning,mate, and go right through it."
She did, and did not pause till she came to that part of her storywhere Dr. Vinsen hailed a hansom cab, and drove off at too swift apace for her to follow.
They listened in breathless interest. Gracie's skill in the weaving ofstories of the imagination for the entertainment of her littlebrothers and sisters served her in good stead in this story of reallife, and, quite unconsciously to herself, she imparted a dramatictouch to the narrative which lifted it above the level of its sordiddetails.
"Talk of your detectives!" exclaimed Dick, in wonder and admiration."Here's a little girl that can show them the way to go. Why, the mancould be prosecuted for practising without a diploma. But, the motive,the motive, the motive? We're getting hold of the ends of loosestrings. How to tie them, how to tie them?" He paced the room in hisexcitement. "Is that all, Gracie?"
"Oh, no, there's ever so much more. When he was gone I went back tothe baker's shop, to see if I could find out anything more about him.I _did_ hear a lot! Oh, Dick, he's a regular bad 'un. He's lived thereever so many years, and there ain't a living soul that's got a goodword for him. I saw the man again they called a jackal, and I got hisname and where he lives. Here it is. I bought a sheet of paper and abit of pencil for a ha'penny, and I put all the names and addressesdown, for fear I might forget 'em. Here's the man's name that's goingto be sold up to-morrow, and here's the baker woman's name andaddress, and here's the trunk shop, and here's the number of the housein Park Street that he looked so long up at the windows of."
"Reginald's lodgings," said Dick, looking at the paper. "What do youthink now of my first mate? Anything more, Gracie?"
"When I got all I could out of 'em I thought I'd come and try to findyou, Dick, and I took a tram and two busses to Catchpole Square, butyou weren't there. Then I came here, and you weren't here. Then I wentback to Catchpole Square again, and who should I see but Dr. Vinsengoing into a house in Shore Street. It's down on the paper."
"Dr. Pye's house," explained Dick. "We're getting warm."
"He kept there an hour and more, but I never budged, When he came outhe didn't look pleased, and he looked worse when he bought some morespecial editions of the papers, and read what was in 'em."
"Wanted the inquest over," interposed Dick, "and a verdict of wilfulmurder against Reginald. Go on, partner."
"It was getting night, and I thought I might have a chance of catchingthe man Dr. Vinsen was talking to last night, so I went to the placewhere the inquest was held, and there I saw him. I saw you, too,ma'am, and the young lady, and a good many others, all talkingtogether. I didn't see you, Dick."
"I wasn't there."
"But where were you, child?" asked Aunt Rob. "I didn't set eyes onyou."
"I took care you shouldn't. When this man went away--oh, what a blackface he had, Dick!--I followed him home. He doesn't live fur off, andhe keeps an ironmonger's shop. You'll see the name on the paper, Dick;it's the bottom name."
"I see it, Gracie. P. Rawdon, ironmonger, 24, Wellington Street."
"There's a lot of things outside the shop window on the pavement,pots, and pans, and pails, under a verandah, and a boy was taking 'eminto the shop. I sneaks up to the boy, and says, 'Is that the master?''Yes,' the boy says, 'that's the guv'nor.' 'Mr. Rawdon?' I says.'Yes,' he says, 'Mr. Rawdon.' And with that he goes inside with hisarms full, and I walks away, for I didn't know what else I could do,when up comes Dr. Vinsen again, almost at the top of me. Lucky for mehe didn't catch sight of me. I cut across the road, and watched him gointo the shop. I waited a little while, but it was past seven o'clock,and you said I was to be here before eight. That's all, Dick."
"And enough," said Dick, "more than enough for one day. There isn't aman or woman in all England who could have done as muc
h in so short atime. I'm proud of you, Gracie. Now, my girl, you mustn't breathe aword of all this to another living soul in the world."
"I won't," said Gracie, her heart swelling with pride at beingaddressed by Dick as "my girl."
"I begin to see light, aunt. That man, Vinsen, sham doctor andphilanthropist, alias Ezra Lynn, real scoundrelly money-lender, andDr. Pye have been hatching a plot against us, and have drawn the otherscoundrel Rawdon into it. Light--yes, light! And there's more behindit that I'll get at before I'm many days older. You don't likesecrets, aunt, but this _must_ be kept from Uncle Rob. He mightconsider it his duty to make a move, and if he does we are done for.You can't see as well as I can what is hanging to this discovery ofGracie's. I pledge you both to secrecy--for Reginald's sake. We mustkeep this before us. All that we have done, all that we are doing, isfor Reginald's sake. Promise, promise!"
They were aglow with excitement, and they replied simultaneously,
"We promise, Dick."
"That's right. We'll draw those ferrets out of their hole, and it willnot be long before Reginald is a free man--freely and honourablyacquitted, with every one who knows him, and every one who doesn't,ready and eager to shake hands with him, and give him a word ofsympathy."
"Dear Dick!" said Florence, giving him both her hands.
"Dear Florence, dear aunt, I would go through fire and water for you."He turned suddenly to Gracie. "What have you had to eat to-day?"
"A penny loaf at the baker shop," replied Gracie, who was faintingwith hunger.
"Nothing more?" cried Aunt Rob.
"No, ma'am."
"Florence, lay the tablecloth; and you, Dick, run down to the kitchen,and fetch the bread and butter--and you'll find a cake in the larder.And bring up the kettle--I'll make the tea here. Tell the servant tocook four large rashers and poach half-a-dozen eggs. Draw up to thetable child--why, you must be starving!"
"I'm all right, ma'am. It ain't worth while worrying about me."
"You dear little mite!" Aunt Rob's heart was overflowing with pity,and she bent down and kissed her. Dick was back, loaded with asteaming kettle and bread and butter and cake, and though Aunt Rob wasno fairy, the tea was made and a cup placed before Gracie, and breadand butter cut, as quickly as any fairy, though she were light asgossamer, could have accomplished it. "Don't wait for us, Gracie, thebacon and eggs will soon be here--why, here they are! Now, my dear,make a good meal, and you sit down, Florence, and eat. It's easier tomeet trouble with a full stomach than an empty one. Here's your cup,Dick; you look famished, too. Things look ever so much brighter, don'tthey?"
And thus she rattled on to put Gracie at her ease, and under theinfluence of a spirit so buoyant and hopeful a fuller meal was eatenthan would otherwise have been the case, and they were all the happierfor it. Then Gracie arose, and thanking them quietly said that hermother would be worrying about her, and if they would excuse her shewould like to go home. There was a grave look on Aunt Rob's face atmention of Gracie's mother, for she thought of Mrs. Death's conduct anhour or two ago at the Coroner's Court, but she said nothing exceptthat Gracie ought to go home at once. She would have liked to wrap upwhat was left of the cake, and give it to the child to take to herlittle brothers and sisters, but she felt that the kindly act might bemisconstrued, and might get Gracie into trouble.
"I will walk a little way with you," said Dick. "Aunt Rob, I have agreat deal to do, and I sha'n't be able to come back to-night. Get tobed early, you and Florence, and try to sleep. It will brightenReginald up to-morrow if he sees you with cheerful faces, which youcan't show him without proper rest."
So the good nights were exchanged, and the mother and daughter wereleft alone. Before Florence went to bed she wrote a long and lovingletter to Reginald, and Aunt Rob also wrote a letter, which Florenceenclosed in hers; and then the young wife, so sorely tried ran out topost it, and kissed it passionately before she dropped it into thebox. She and her mother were to sleep together that night, and AuntRob sent Florence up to bed first. Household duties had fallen intoarrear in consequence of her long attendance at the Coroner's Court,and these must be attended to before she retired; she was not thewoman to neglect her domestic affairs, and she knew that her husbandwould feel the happier for seeing a tidy home when he came from hisoffice. She was occupied nigh upon two hours, and then there was alittle note to be written to her husband, and laid open on the table,telling him that she was sleeping with Florence, and that he was tosleep in Dick's room. Aunt Rob was not what would be considered a veryreligious woman, but she had an underlying and unconscious religion ofher own which she steadily practised--the religion that lies in kindthoughts and deeds, in upright conduct and duties conscientiouslyperformed; and she was not in the habit of reading her Bibleregularly. But this night, when all her household work was done, shetook the Book of Consolation from the shelf, and reverently readtherein till nearly midnight.
During these hours of work and prayer she had not been unmindful ofher daughter; every now and then she stepped softly up to the bedroomand listened at the door; she would not open it, lest the creakingshould disturb the young girl. She stood there in the dark, andlistened. "My darling is asleep," she whispered to herself as she wentquietly downstairs.
For an hour and more she read in the Holy Book, and when she closed ita deep calm rested on her face and a look of peace in her eyes. Thefeeling that possessed her was the feeling of a woman in afflictionwho had heard the voice of God. Balm was in her heart. Truly her housewas a house of sorrow, but it was also a house of faith and hope. Whoshall say that the spiritual links of love that join heart to heart,though miles of space lie between, did not pulse with a sweet andtender message to the innocent man lying in his cell?
Turning down the gas in the sitting room and the passage, and placingher note to her husband in such a position that it would be sure tomeet his eye when he entered, Aunt Rob stole upstairs to bed, carryingthe candle with her. She started when she saw a white-robed formkneeling by the bedside. It was Florence, who had been lifting herheart to God, and who had fallen asleep with a prayer on her lips.
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 54