CHAPTER XXI.
A QUICK DECISION.
Jack turned around, and when he saw Victor Nevill bending over him helooked first confused and then pleasurably surprised.
"Hello, old chap," he said. "Wait a bit, will you?"
"You've led me a chase," Nevill whispered in a low voice. "I want totalk to you. Important!"
"All right," Jack replied. "I'll be through in a couple of minutes."
He wondered if it could have anything to do with Diane, as he set towork on the injured man. With deft fingers he bathed the cut, staunchedthe blood, and applied a piece of plaster handed to him by a bystander;over it he placed the dry half of his handkerchief.
"You'll do now," he said. "It's not a deep cut."
With assistance the man got to his feet. The shock had sobered him, andhe was pretty steady. He pulled his cap on his head, and winced withpain as it stirred the bandage.
"Where's the cowardly rat what hit me?" he demanded.
"Never you mind about 'im," put in the proprietor of the club--a veryfat man with a ponderous watch-chain. "While the excitement was on 'e'ooked it. You be off, too--I don't want any more rowing." Sinking hisvoice to a faint whisper, he added: "You'd be worse off than the restof us, 'Awker, should the police 'appen to come."
"Yes, go home, my good fellow," urged Jack. "You look ill; and what youneed is rest. You'll be all right in the morning."
He pressed half a sovereign into the man's hand--so cleverly that noneobserved the action--and then slipped back and joined Nevill and Mostyn,who had a slight acquaintance with each other. The three had left theroom, and were going downstairs, before Mr. Noah Hawker recovered fromhis surprise on learning that his gift was gold instead of a silversixpence. It chanced that he was reduced to his last coppers, and so thehalf sovereign was a boon indeed. He nudged the elbow of a superciliouslooking young gentleman in evening dress who was passing.
"That swell cove who fixed me up--he's just gone," he said. "He's a realgent, he is! Could you tell me his name, sir?"
"Aw, yes, I think I can," was the drawling reply. "He's an artist chap,don't you know! Name of Vernon."
"Might it be John Vernon?"
"That's it, my man."
The name rang in Noah Hawker's ears, and he repeated it to himself as hestumbled downstairs. He was in such a brown study that he forgot to tipthe door-keeper who let him into the street. He pulled his cap lower tohide his bandaged head, and struck off in the direction of TottenhamCourt road.
"Funny how I run across that chap!" he reflected. "Vernon--JohnVernon--yes, it's the same, no doubt about it. But he's only an artist,and I know what artists are. There's many on 'em, with claw-hammer coatsand diamonds in their shirt-fronts, as hasn't got two quid to knocktogether. You won't suit my book, Mr. Vernon--you're not in the runningagainst the others. It's a pity, though, for he was a real swell, what I_call_ a gent. But I'll keep him in mind, and it sort of strikes me I'llbe able to do him a good turn some day."
Meanwhile, as Noah Hawker walked northward in the direction of KentishTown, Jack and his companions had reached Piccadilly Circus. Here Mostynleft them, while Jack and Nevill went down Regent street.
"A bit of a rounder, that chap," said Nevill. "He's not your sort. Whathave you been doing with yourself for the last two weeks? I've not seenyou since you sailed for India, early in the summer."
"How did you find me to-night?" asked Jack, in a tone which suggestedthat he did not want to be found.
"I met a Johnny who told me where you were. I vowed he was mistaken atfirst, but he stuck to it so positively--"
"You said you wanted to talk to me," Jack interrupted. "I suppose it isabout--"
"No; you're wrong. _She_ is in Paris, and she won't trouble you again.The fact is, I have a message for you from Lamb and Drummond. They'vebeen trying to find you for a fortnight."
"Lamb and Drummond looking for me? Ah, yes, I think I know what theywant."
"It's a queer business, isn't it? My uncle is mixed up in it--Sir LuciusChesney, you know."
"Then he has told you--"
"Only a little. It's not my affair, and I would rather not speak aboutit. Can I tell Mr. Lamb that you will call upon him at five o'clockto-morrow afternoon--or this afternoon, to be correct? They will wantto get my uncle from the country."
"I will be there at that hour," Jack assented, and with a hasty"Good-night" he was gone, striding rapidly away. Nevill looked afterhim for a moment, and then sauntered home. The street lights showeda sneering smile of satisfaction on his face.
Jack could easily have picked up a cab, but he preferred to walk. Hewent along the Strand, now waking up to the life and traffic of earlymorning. Turning into Wellington street, he crossed Waterloo Bridge, andthe gray dawn was breaking when he let himself into a big, dingy housenot far from the river. Here, remote from his friends, he had chosen tolive, in two rooms which he had fitted up more than comfortably withrecent purchases. Even Jimmie did not know where he was--never dreamedof looking for him on the Surrey side. His brain was too active forsleep, and he sat up smoking another hour.
It was two o'clock in the afternoon when Jack awoke from an unrefreshingslumber; his head was heavy, and he would have liked to remain in bedfor the rest of the day. He remembered that he had two engagements; hehad promised to attend a "do" at a studio in Joubert Mansions, Chelsea,where he would meet a lot of Tony Mostyn's set, and make night noisyuntil the wee hours of the morning. At four o'clock he started to dressfor the evening. At five a cab put him down in Pall Mall, opposite thepremises of Lamb and Drummond. A clerk conducted him to the privateoffice, which was well lighted. Mr. Lamb was present, and with him asoldierly, aristocratic-looking gentleman who had been summoned by wirefrom Sussex. Victor Nevill would have been there also, but he hadpleaded a previous engagement.
The military gentleman was formally introduced as Sir Lucius Chesney.Jack shook hands with him nonchalantly, and wondered what was comingnext; he did not much care. Sir Lucius regarded Jack carelessly atfirst, then with a stare that was almost impertinent. He adjusted a pairof gold-rimmed eye-glasses, and looked again. He leaned forward in hischair, under the influence of some strong agitation.
"Bless my soul!" he muttered, half audibly. "Very remarkable!"
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Jack.
"Nothing! nothing!" replied Sir Lucius, in some confusion. "So you areMr. Vernon?"
"That is my name, sir."
Sir Lucius pulled himself together, and thoughtfully stroked hismustache. An awkward pause was broken by Mr. Lamb, who proceeded tostate at some length the business that had rendered Jack's presenceimperative. Sir Lucius listened with rising indignation, as the storypoignantly recalled to him his bitter experience with the Munich Jew.Jack, seeing the ludicrous side, with difficulty repressed aninclination to smile.
"Let me have the picture," he said. "I can settle the question at once."
Sir Lucius rose eagerly from his seat. Mr. Lamb took the canvas froman open safe and spread it on the table. Jack bent over it, standingbetween the two. He laughed as he pointed to a peculiarbrush-stroke--insignificant in the general effect--down in the lowerright-hand corner.
"There is my mark," he said, "and this is the duplicate I painted forMartin Von Whele, nearly six years ago."
"I thought as much," exclaimed Mr. Lamb.
"Are you sure of what you are saying, young man?" asked Sir Lucius.
"Quite positive, sir," declared Jack. "I assure you that--"
"Yes, there can be no doubt about it," interrupted Mr. Lamb. "I waspretty well satisfied from the first, but I would not trust my ownjudgment, considering the poorness of my eyesight. This is the copy, andthe person who stole it from Mr. Vernon's studio disposed of it later tothe Jew in Munich, who succeeded--very naturally, I admit--in selling itto you as the real thing, Sir Lucius."
There was a _double entendre_ about the "very naturally" which SirLucius chose, rightly or wrongly, to interpret to his own disadvantage.
/> "Do you mean to insinuate--" he began, bridling up.
"As for the genuine Rembrandt--_my_ picture," resumed Mr. Lamb, "itsdisappearance is still shrouded in mystery. It can be only a matter oftime, however, until the affair is cleared up. But that is poorconsolation for the insurance people, who owe me L10,000."
"It is well you safeguard yourself in that way," observed Jack. "Ishouldn't be surprised if your picture turned up as unexpectedly as minehas done, and perhaps before long. But I can hardly call this myproperty. Sir Lucius Chesney is out of pocket to the tune of elevenhundred pounds--"
"D--n the money, sir!" blurted out Sir Lucius. "I can afford to lose it.And pray accept the Rembrandt from me as a gift, if you think you arenot entitled to it legally."
"You are very kind, but I prefer that you should keep it."
"I don't want it--won't have it! Take it out of my sight!--it is only aworthless copy!" Sir Lucius, purple in the face, plumped himself down inhis chair. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Vernon," he added. "As a copy it istruly magnificent--it does the greatest credit to your artistic skill.It deceived _me_, sir! Whom would it not have deceived? There is an endof the matter! I shall forget it. But I will go to Munich some day, andbeat that rascally Jew within an inch of his life!"
"If you can catch him," thought Jack. "I had better leave the paintingwith you for the present, Mr. Lamb," he said. "It may be of some use inyour search for the original."
"Quite so," assented the dealer. "I will gladly retain it for thepresent."
"If that is all," Jack continued, "I will wish you good afternoon."
"One moment, Mr. Vernon," said Sir Lucius, whose choleric indicationshad completely vanished. "I--I should like to have an interview withyou, if you will consent to humor an old man. Your face interests me--Iadmire your work. I propose to remain in town for a brief time, thoughI am off to Oxford to-night, to visit an old friend, and will not be backuntil to-morrow afternoon. Would you find it convenient to give me acall to-morrow night at eight o'clock, at Morley's Hotel?"
Jack was silent; his face expressed the surprise he felt.
"I should like you to come down to Sussex and do some landscapes ofPriory Court," Sir Lucius further explained.
"I am not working at present," Jack said, curtly.
"But there is something else--a--a private matter," Sir Lucius replied,confusedly. "I beg that you will oblige me, Mr. Vernon."
"Very well, sir, since you wish it so much," Jack consented. "I willcome to Morley's Hotel at eight to-morrow evening."
"Thank you, Mr. Vernon."
Jack shook hands with both gentlemen, picked up his hat and stick, andwent off to an early dinner. Sir Lucius looked after him wistfully.
In Friendship's Guise Page 21