by James Payn
CHAPTER XI.
THE BANK-NOTES.
It was arranged, to my infinite joy, before retiring to rest that night,that I was to make one of the Bank party. Marmaduke insisted onaccompanying us, being above measure curious about the matter, and eagerto know the worst (or the best) regarding it. Mr. Long had to return toFairburn for his Sunday's duty, and Mr. Clint could not spare the timefrom his parchments; so Mr. Harvey Gerard and we two young men wentforth upon the trail together. As the paper-chase is the most gloriouspursuit undertaken by boys, as fox-hunting is the sport of sports formen, so man-hunting is the avocation fitted for heroes. I know nothinglike it for interest and excitement--nothing. If I could only imbue myreaders with one-tenth of the absorbing concern with which we, thesubordinate actors in this drama of mystery, now began to be devoured,they would be sorry indeed when this narrative comes to a conclusion. Wethree were at the appointed spot some minutes before the hour which hadbeen agreed upon for meeting the Bow Street runner; but before thechimes of the Old Exchange clock had ceased their "_Life let uscherish_"--the tune which they always played on Fridays--the Bow Streetrunner appeared.
Passing through a great room within the Bank, in which, to myunaccustomed eye, were displayed the riches of Croesus, and where thegolden showers seemed unceasingly to rain, we were conducted into aprivate apartment, where sat some grey-headed official, uncommunicative,calm, like one who has had his glut even of wealth, and to whom money,whether in bullion or paper, was no longer any object.
"Well, Mr. Townshend, what can I do for you?" inquired he, sedately. "Itrust you are not come about any fresh wrongs against the Old Lady ofThreadneedle Street. I never see your face but I think of an imitationbank-note, and diminution of the stock in our cellar."
"Thank you, sir," responded the runner, cheerfully; "I am afraid that Ishall have to see you in a day or two respecting a matter of that verykind, but to-day I am come on a different business. A gentleman of highrank has been missing for three weeks, or more; and his absence hasgiven the greatest anxiety to these, his friends. He was known to havein his possession certain one-pound Bank of England notes, twenty inall, of which the numbers are known. We wish to know whether they havebeen paid in hither in the meantime, and if so, by whom."
"Have you any order from the deputy-governor?"
"Why, no, sir," responded the runner, insinuatingly. "I thought thatwould not be necessary between you and me."
"Well, well, I suppose you must have your own way, Townshend. You're adangerous man to cross." And the old gentleman wagged his head in ablandly humorous manner, and made a little golden music with his bunchof seals. "The numbers of the notes are here, are they? From 82961 to80. Very good." Here he rang a silver bell, which presently produced anofficial personage, something between a gentleman-usher and apew-opener. "You may show this party over the cancelled department,James; and let Mr. Townshend investigate anything he pleases."
With a not over-courteous nod, the old gentleman resumed his study of acertain enormous volume, that looked, said Marmaduke, like the quartoedition of Chaucer, but which, it is reasonable to conclude, wassomething else. We were straightway conducted through several vast andechoing chambers, into a spacious fire-proof vault, where the notes thathad been paid into the Bank awaited the periodical cremation.
"A week later, and we might not have been in time," remarked the BowStreet runner, "since every bank-note is burned within a month of itshaving found its way home again. If Sir Massingberd has come to aviolent end, and been robbed of his money, we shall probably find it allhere, as those who despoiled him would be anxious to get the noteschanged at once." Our guide led the way to a certain department of thechamber, with the same accuracy which a student would evince withrespect to a shelf in his own library, and took up in his hand a bundleof one-pound notes; they were for the most part very dirty and greasy,but he separated one from the other with a surprising ease and celerity,reading out the numbers as he did so. "82900, 1, 2, 3--now we aregetting near it," observed the official. "Let us see, 951, is it not?"
"82961," gasped I, "and the next nineteen." I could scarcely frame thewords, so great was my excitement. Marmaduke's eyes gleamed with anxietyand impatience; and even Mr. Gerard held his breath, while the clerkcontinued, in a dry, mechanical tone:
"51, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 wanting--7, 8, 9 all wanting. 82960---here you haveit; 61 wanting; 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. There are none of them here.Stop a bit. 82977--that's one, isn't it?"
"Yes," cried I, "that's one. Pray, let me look at it."
"Certainly not, sir," responded the official, severely. "With regard toMr. Townshend, I have my orders, but as respects him only."
"Perfectly right," remarked the Bow Street runner, approvingly. "Thenplease to give it to me, my man. Are there any more?"
"Yes, there are--78, 79, 80."
"Good. That is four in all, then." The detective took them up, andshowed them to me: of course, I could not identify them; but still Ifelt some awe to think what hands--hands imbued with blood,perchance--those notes might have passed through since I had seen SirMassingberd thrust them into his pocket.
"I cannot carry these away with me, my good friend, I suppose?" inquiredMr. Townshend, persuasively.
"By no manner of means, Mr. Runner," replied the guardian of theseunctuous treasures, with dignity. "His Majesty himself would never be somad as to ask such a thing. A written order from the governor himselfwould not permit you to do it."
"Very good, sir; then we won't trouble the governor to write one,"returned the detective, dryly. "What I must know, however--permission orno permission--is this: by whose hand were these sweet-smelling andprecious articles paid into the Bank of England?"
It would have been amusing, under less anxious circumstances, to havewatched the demeanour of these two personages, each jealous of thedignity of those by whom he was employed, and neither in the leastdisposed to surrender one tittle of his delegated authority.
"That information will, no doubt, be supplied to you," replied theofficial, stiffly, "if it is thought right--and not otherwise. Followme, gentlemen, if you please, and I will direct you to the office wheresuch an application may be made."
This we did; and I am bound to say, met with very great civility fromthe superintendent of the department in question. In spite of theadmirable and systematic manner in which the huge establishment wascarried on, it was not easy, and in many cases would have beenimpossible, to discover what individual had paid in any particularnote; but every pains and trouble were taken in our behalf, to effectthis. Out of the four notes, only one, No. 82979, could be identified ashaving been received from any particular person--one Mr. Worrall, asilk-merchant in the City. Having expressed our warmest thanks to theauthorities, we immediately called a coach, and started off to thisgentleman's warehouse. We were so fortunate as to find him in, althoughhe was just upon the point of setting forth to his private residence.Upon an examination of his books, we discovered no record of thebank-note about which we were concerned; still, he frankly owned to usthat such memoranda were not kept with excessive accuracy. "It ispossible yet that the people at the Bank may have been correct,"observed he. "You had better return there; and since the matter is oneof life and death, I do not mind confiding to you, that if that notehas passed through our hands at all, it will have the letter W, in red,upon the back of it; it is very small, but still can be decipheredwithout a magnifying-glass."
"There was no mark," observed I, "upon any of the notes I saw."
"There _was_ a mark," remarked the Bow Street runner, reflectively; andI am pretty sure it was upon this very note.--"It is no wonder that youdid not see it, young gentleman, since your livelihood does not depend,as mine does, upon keeping my eyes about me. The mark in question wasalso almost obliterated by the red "Cancelled" which the Bank had placedupon the note; but as far as I could make it out, it was the letter O."
"That is the private mark of the Metropolitan Oil Company," exclaimedMr. Worrall, without hesitati
on. "Although, indeed, because I have toldmy own secrets, I am not sure that I am justified in revealing those ofother people. Their offices are in the very next street to this."
Off we started like hounds, who, after, a check, have once more struckthe scent. Business in the City had by this time greatly diminished, andmany of the shops were closed; but the Oil Company's emporium, asbehoved it, was lighted up from cellar to garret, to give assurance tothe world that what they sold could turn night, and even London fog,into day. Notwithstanding the extreme luminosity of the premises, wefound the accounts of the establishment, however, rather opaque andcomplicated; and although nothing could exceed the pains which theclerks put themselves to upon our account, it was several hours beforeNo. 82979 could be identified, both as respected its incoming andoutgoing. Finally, however, we gleaned the certain information that thenote in question had been received only a day or two previously by theOil Company from a Mr. Vanderseld, the skipper of a foreign vessel, thenlying in the port of London, but which, he had informed them, was tosail immediately. He had bought a small quantity of oil for his cabinlamps, and taken it with him, but had ordered a large supply to be sentto his address in Hamburg, and with this address we were madeacquainted.
"Well, Mr. Townshend," quoth Mr. Harvey Gerard, as we rolled homewardsin a hackney-coach, after seven hours of this man-hunting, "what thinkyou that this news portends? Is the game still afoot, or is it only deadgame--quarry?"
"I can speak with no sort of certainty yet," replied the Bow Streetrunner; "but next to all the notes having been paid into the Bank onthe 17th or so--which, as I told you, would have almost indicated SirMassingberd's murder and robbery, without any doubt--I know of no worsetidings than this, of their having come from Hamburg. There's a regularagency abroad, and particularly in that town, for the sale of Bank ofEngland notes dishonestly come by. If a thief cannot get to the Bankimmediately, to turn his plunder into gold, he sends it across thewater; and then it comes back to us at home, through honest handsenough. We must communicate, of course, with Vanderseld; but theprobability is that he will be unable to give us any information. Thesesea-fellows take account of nothing except what concerns their owntrade. He may remember the quarter that the wind was blowing from uponthe day he had the note, to a nicety; but he won't have a notion, blessyou, as to who paid it him. No--it's the worst sign yet, to my mind,that that 'ere note has come through foreign hands. But don't you bedown-hearted, my young gentleman," added the Bow Street runner,addressing himself to Marmaduke, who looked very fagged and anxious;"I'll find your respected uncle, mind you, let him be where he will; andif he's dead, why, you shall see his corpse, though I have to dig it upwith my finger-nails." With which comforting statement we had, for thatevening, to be content.