Chapter XVIII
THE BOAT-TRAIN
They did not leave the house by the same mysterious door by whichFreddy had entered, but by one which brought them at once into a busystreet. Vehicles were passing to and fro, and they had not gone manysteps before the captain--to give him the title which he had notimprobably himself affixed to his name--called a hansom. Bertie gotin. The captain directed the driver where to drive in an undertone,seated himself beside his "nephew," and they were off.
During the drive not a word was spoken. Where they were going Bertiehad not the faintest notion; he felt pretty certain that he was notreally being taken home. His head was in a whirl; he was in such aweof his companion that he scarcely dared to move, far less to use hiseyes in an endeavour to see where they were going. The cab almostimmediately turned into a busy thoroughfare. The hubbub of the trafficand the confusion of the crowded streets completed the lad'sbewilderment, making it seem to him as though they were journeyingthrough pandemonium. The busy thoroughfare into which the cabmanturned was, in fact, the Strand--the Strand at what is not the leastbusy hour of the day, when the people are crowding into the theatres.The cabman took another turn into comparative quiet, and in anotherminute they were whirling over Waterloo Bridge, along Waterloo BridgeRoad, into the huge terminus of the South-Western Railway. A portercame forward to help them to alight, but the captain, dismissing him,took his bag with one hand, and taking Bertie's own hand in the other,stepped on to the platform of the station.
He had only taken a few steps when, pulling up, he spoke to Bailey inlow, quick, significant tones.
"Look here, my lad; I don't want to haul you about as though I'd gotyou in custody, and I don't mean to let you get out of my sight. I'mgoing to loose your hand, and let you walk alone. Carry this bag, andstick as close to me as wax, or----"
A significant tap against the pocket which contained the revolverserved to complete the sentence. Bertie needed no explanation inwords; the action was as full of meaning as any eloquence of speechcould possibly have been.
The hansom had put them down at the departure platform of themain-line trains. The captain looked at the station clock as they camein, and Bertie, following the direction of the other's eye, saw thatit was a quarter-past nine. The station was full of people; portersand passengers were hurrying hither and thither, mountains of baggagewere passing to and fro.
The captain turned into the booking-office, Bertie sticking close tohis side. Some wild idea of making a dash for freedom did enter hismind, but to be dismissed as soon as it entered. What could he do? Hewas fully persuaded that if he were to make the slightest sign ofattempting to escape, his companion would shoot him on the spot. Buteven if he did not proceed to quite such extreme lengths, what then?To have attempted to take to actual flight, and to have run for it,would have been absurd. He would have been caught in an instant. Hisonly hope lay in an appeal to those around him. But what sort ofappeal could he have made? If he had suddenly shouted, "This man hasstolen the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, worth fifty thousandpounds!" no doubt he would have created a sensation. But the revolver!Bertie was quite persuaded that before he would have had time to havemade his assertion good the captain would have put his threat intoexecution, and killed him like a cat, even though, to use thatgentleman's own words, he had had to hang for it five minutesafterwards.
No; it seemed to him that the only course open to him was to obey thecaptain's instructions.
There was a crowd round the ticket-office, at sight of which thecaptain put the lad in front of him, and his hand upon his shoulder,holding him tight by means of the free use of an uncomfortable amountof pressure. Under these circumstances he could scarcely ask fortickets without the lad hearing what it was he asked for--as in facthe did.
"Two first for Jersey."
Two first-class tickets for Jersey! The tickets were stamped and paidfor, and they were out of the crowd again. It was some satisfaction toknow where it was they were going, but not much. He was too evidentlynot being taken home again. Jersey and Upton were a good many milesapart.
The captain went up and down the train with the apparent intention ofdiscovering a compartment which they might have for themselves. But ifthat was his intention he sought in vain. The tourist season hadapparently set in early, and on this particular night the train wascrowded. They finally found seats in a compartment in which there werealready two passengers, and into which there quickly came two more. Itwas a smoking carriage; and as the other passengers were alreadysmoking, and the captain lit a cigar as soon as he entered, theatmosphere soon became nice and fresh for Bertie. Five smokingpassengers in a first-class compartment do not make things exactlypleasant for a non-smoking sixth. The captain took a corner seat;Bertie sat on the middle seat next to him, right in the centre of thesmoke.
They started. All the passengers, with the exception of the captainand Bertie, had books or papers. For a time silence reigned. Thepassengers read, the captain thought, the lad lamented. If the trainhad only been speeding towards Slough instead of Jersey! It may bementioned that at this point of the expedition Bertie was not evenaware where Jersey was, and was not even conscious that to reach itfrom London one had to cross the sea.
As they passed Woking the silence was broken for a moment. A tall,thin, severe-looking gentleman, with side whiskers, and a sealskin captied over his ears, having finished with the _Globe_, handed it to thecaptain.
"Have you seen the _Globe_?"
"Thank you, I haven't."
The captain took it, and began to read. Almost without intending itBertie watched him. For some reason, though he could scarcely havetold what it was, for the reader gave no outward signs of anything ofthe kind, he was persuaded that the paper contained something whichthe captain found of startling interest. He saw the captain stare withpeculiar fixedness at one paragraph, never taking his eyes off it forat least five minutes. He even thought that the captain's lips weretwitching, that the captain's face grew pale. As if perceiving theinspection and resenting it, he drew the paper closer to him, so thatit concealed his countenance.
As they were nearing Aldershot and Farnham a little conversation wascommenced which had a peculiar interest for Bertie, if for no one elsein the compartment.
In the opposite corner, at the other end of the carriage, was seated astout old gentleman, with a very red face and very white hair. He worea gorgeous smoking-cap, which was stuck at the back of his head, andthere was something about his appearance and demeanour which impressedthe beholder with the fact that this was a gentleman of strongopinions.
In front of him was a thin young gentleman with a pale face, whopuffed at a big meerschaum pipe as though he did not exactly like it.He was reading a novel with a yellow back, which all the world couldperceive was _The Adventures of Harry Lorrequer_. The old gentlemanhad been reading the _Evening Standard_ through a pair of gold glassesof the most imposing size and pattern.
He had apparently finished with his paper, for he lowered it andstared through his glasses at the thin young man in front of him. Thethin young man did not seem to be made the more comfortable by hisgaze.
"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
This was said in loud, magisterial tones, which commanded theattention of the whole compartment. The young man seemed startled.Bertie was startled; he almost thought he saw the _Globe_ tremble inthe captain's hands.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
This was said in tones rather louder and more magisterial than atfirst.
"No! No! I haven't!"
"Then, sir, I say it's a disgrace to the country."
Whether it was a disgrace to the country that the thin young man hadnot heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels was not quite clear.The thin young man seemed to think it was, for he turned pink.However, the old gentleman went on,--
"Here's a noble lady,
the wife of one of the greatest English peers,returning from personal attendance upon her sovereign, bearing withher jewels of almost priceless value, and they disappear fromunderneath her nose. I say it's a disgrace to the country, sir!"
The thin young man seemed relieved. It was evidently not his want ofknowledge which was a disgrace to the country, but the disappearanceof the lady's jewels. Bertie pricked up his ears; the captain gave nosign of having heard.
The young man ventured on a question.
"How's that? Have they been stolen?"
"How's that, sir! Stolen, sir! I should think they have been stolen!"
The words were spoken with almost volcanic force. All the carriagebegan to take an interest in what was being said--excepting always"Uncle Tom."
The old gentleman grasped his paper with his right hand, andemphasized his words with the first finger of his left.
"At half-past two this afternoon the Countess of Ferndale, whohas been in attendance at Windsor Castle, started from Windsorto London. Windsor, sir, is at a distance of twenty-two miles fromtown--twenty-two miles; no more. The traffic between that place andLondon, sir, is extremely large; and yet, travelling on that shortstrip of railway, in one of Her Majesty's own state coaches----"
"I don't think it was in one of the Queen's own coaches she wastravelling."
"No; it wasn't."
The first interruption came from the severe-looking gentleman who hadlent the Captain the _Globe_; the second from a placid-lookinggentleman with black whiskers, who sat beside him in front of Bertie.
"Well, sir, and what difference does that make?"
"None at all, perhaps, to the main issue," the severe gentlemanallowed. "It's only a statement of fact."
"Well, sir, supposing it is a statement of fact, which, as at presentadvised, I am not prepared to allow, I suppose I may take it forgranted that she was travelling in a compartment which was exclusivelyreserved for her own use?"
"That, I believe, was the case."
"Well, sir, travelling on that short strip of railway, in acompartment exclusively reserved for her own use, what happens in thisEngland of the nineteenth century? It is incredible! monstrous! Shehad with her certain family jewels of almost priceless value. She hadbeen wearing them in Her Majesty's own presence. They were in thecharge of certain officers of her household; and yet, when she comesto the end of that journey of two and twenty miles, they were gone,sir!--gone! vanished into air!"
"No! If they were stolen, he must have been a jolly clever thief,"observed the thin young man.
"A jolly clever thief!" said, or rather roared the stout oldgentleman. "You speak of the author of such an outrage as a jollyclever thief. If I had the miscreant within reach of my hand"--thestout old gentleman stretched out his hand, and the thin young manshrank out of the way--"I should consider myself justified in strikinghim down, and trampling the life out of his wretched carcass. I shouldconsider the doer of such an act deserved well of his country, sir!"
Bertie felt a cold shiver go down his back. He pictured the stout oldgentleman striking him down, and trampling the life out of hiswretched carcass. At that moment he almost felt as though he had beenguilty of the crime; he almost expected the stout old gentleman toread his guilt upon his countenance, and conclude the business thereand then. As for the captain--the least that Bertie expected him to dowas to open the door and, without waiting for such a small detailas the stopping of the train, disappear into the night. What heactually did was to return the _Globe_, with a courteous bow, to thesevere-looking gentleman, carefully cross his knees, and light afresh cigar. Then he listened to what was being said with an air ofplacid interest.
"What was the value of the jewels?" inquired the gentleman with theblack whiskers.
"Priceless! priceless! How can you value jewels which have been in thepossession of a noble family for generations? which are familyheirlooms?"
"I suppose they must be pretty well known, in which case the thieveswill find considerable difficulty in getting rid of their spoil."
"Getting rid of their spoil! Is it conceivable that such villains areto be allowed to get rid of their spoil, to sell it, and fatten on theproceeds?"
"Very conceivable, indeed, unless something is done to stop them."
The stout old gentleman was so affected by the idea of the countess'sjewels being brought into the market in such an ignoble way that wordsfailed him, and he gasped for breath.
During all this time Bertie's sensations were indescribable. He feltas though he were under the power of some hideous spell. He would havegiven anything to have been able to spring up and denounce themiscreant who had wrought this crime. There would have been somethingworthy of a hero in that; but he could not do it, he was spellbound.Perhaps the consciousness of the revolver which was in the captain'spocket had something to do with his state of mind; but it was not onlythat, he was paralysed by the position itself--by the knowledge thathis own act had made him the companion of such a rogue.
Just at the moment the captain raised his hand, as if by chance, andtapped the inner pocket of his coat. Slight though the action was,Bertie saw it, and he shuddered. But there was worse to follow.
The remark was made by the severe-looking gentleman.
"What strikes me is, how was the theft performed? Those in charge ofthe box swear that it was never out of their sight. When they startedthe jewels were in it; when they reached their journey's end they weregone. They couldn't have been spirited away."
"The boxes were changed."
Bertie felt that his heart had ceased to beat. The words were spokenby "Uncle Tom."
It was the first time he had opened his lips. The eyes of all in thecarriage were fixed upon him. He was seated, apparently quite at hisease, a cigar in his mouth, one hand upon his knee, and, as he spoke,with the other he undid the top button of his overcoat.
"How could they be changed? Those in charge state that they never lostsight of the particular box in which the jewels were."
The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a wreathof smoke.
"I have a theory of my own upon the subject."
"And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you mean totell me such a trick as that could have been played in the light ofday?"
This was from the stout old gentleman.
"Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was done. Ihave only suggested a theory. Of course you are at liberty to acceptit or reject it, as you please."
"I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next June, andI know perfectly well that no such trick would be played on me."
"You are, probably, a person of peculiar acumen."
But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.
"As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps youhave a theory of how the robbers might be caught."
"I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that, if itwere made worth my while, I would engage to find the thieves."
"Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's whileto find a thief?"
"Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to findthe thieves?"
"If I knew where they were."
"Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if theywere found you would give them into custody, but you have to find themfirst. People don't go thief-hunting from motives of purephilanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it worth hiswhile."
"May I ask if you are an amateur detective?" inquired thesevere-looking gentleman.
"I shouldn't call myself quite that," said "Uncle Tom."
"But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing withcrime?"
"It has been the study of my life," said "Uncle Tom."
"I suppose that it is a very interesting study?"
"Very interesting indeed."
"If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has beenyour own experience that such a
study improves the moral nature of aman?"
"Quite the reverse," said "Uncle Tom."
"You are frank."
"What is life unless you are?" asked "Uncle Tom."
The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to slow.
"I think this is Southampton," said the thin young man.
And it was.
A Hero of Romance Page 18