XIV
FOSTER SEES A LIGHT
After leaving the Garth, Foster went to Carlisle, where he bought smallarticles at different shops and had them sent to his hotel, addressedto Featherstone. He also asked if any letters for his partner hadcome, and then, having done all he could think of to give his pursuersa hint, waited to see what would happen. He imagined that since Dalyseemed to be well provided with money he would not undertake the searchalone, and there were private inquiry agents who would help him. Theservices of these gentlemen would not be cheap, and Foster wondered ifthe fellow knew that there was not very much to be extorted fromFeatherstone. This, however, was Daly's business, and seeing no resultfrom his experiment, he resolved to leave Carlisle.
He reached the station undecided where to go. A Midland express wouldshortly start for the south, but it would be difficult to leave a clewin the big manufacturing towns, and there was a stopping train soonafter the other on the North British line, which traverses the Borderhills. Foster preferred this neighborhood, because he was beginning toknow it and it was not far from the Garth, but after a few moments'consideration went to the Midland ticket window.
A row of passengers were waiting their turn, and as he took his placein the line a man crossed the floor and stood behind him. There wasnothing suspicious in this, but the fellow had not come in by theentrance hall, and if he had been in the station, it was strange he hadnot got his ticket earlier. When his turn came, Foster asked for aticket to Appleby in a husky voice, and when the booking clerkdemanded, "Where?" looked over his shoulder. The man behind wasleaning forward, as if to catch his reply.
"Appleby," said Foster, who had seen by a railway map that the town wasnot far off, and getting his ticket, joined the passengers on theplatform. As he did so, the long train came in, but knowing that itwould be a minute or two before the engine was changed he walked up theplatform leisurely, looking into the carriages. There was some bustle,for people were getting out and in, and he kept out of sight among themuntil the guard waved his flag. Then he stepped behind a truck loadedwith milk-cans as the train rolled away.
If the man he had noticed had been watching him, he thought he had puthim off the track, but he had no time to lose if he meant to catch thestopping train. He got in as it started, choosing an old carriagewithout a corridor, so that nobody could spy on him. They jolted overthe crossings, the old red wall of the city rolled by and droppedbehind, and as they ran out towards the open country across the Eden,Foster thoughtfully lighted a cigarette. He had tried to put hispursuers on his partner's supposititious trail, but it began to look asif they were not following Lawrence but him. His injured hand couldhardly have escaped notice, and he was not really like Lawrence, ofwhom Daly would no doubt have given his agents a good description.
He wondered who was on his track, and with what object. Daly wouldgain nothing by molesting him, and he could not see why the policeshould take an interest in his movements, but he was being watched, andfelt uneasy. He was not sure that he had sent the last man off toAppleby, although he hoped he had.
The train, which stopped now and then, ran across flat fields until itentered the valley of the Esk. The valley narrowed as they spedthrough the woods beside the stream, and when the line turned up thewater of Liddel bleak hills began to rise ahead. The trees and richcultivation were gradually left behind, the air got keener, and lonelymoors rolled down to the winding dale. It got dark as they followedthe river, and soon afterwards Foster alighted at a small station.Nobody else left the train except two or three country people, and hewent to an inn in the straggling little town.
Next morning he set off on foot, heading northeast into the hills. Hewalked leisurely, because he was going to Jedburgh, but had not made uphis mind if he would get there that night, since Pete had told him of afarm where he could stop.
About four o'clock in the afternoon he stopped near the middle of abarren moorland and looked round. The road ran back into the strongyellow glow of the sunset, but it crossed a ridge about a mile off, andthere was nobody in sight. It was very rough in places, but he thoughta skillful driver could take a car over it. To the east, where thehorizon was hazy, the high ground fell away, and he thought he couldstrike another road to Jedburgh in three or four miles if he crossedthe heath. There seemed to be no reason why he should do so, but heleft the road and some time later came to a burn that ran down hill.
By and by a rough track began in a marish field and got smoother as itfollowed the burn. Then a hedge of tall thorns, with wool-fringed gapsbetween their stems where the sheep went through, ran down thewaterside, and Foster sat down on a stone and studied his map. Hethought it would take him nearly two hours to reach Jedburgh, but thesmall farm Pete had spoken of was not far off. The track he was onseemed to lead to a better road in the valley. Mist was gathering inthe hollow, but when he looked back the sky was bright and the yellowglow rested on the hill. The evening was very calm; he heard a curlewcrying far off across the moor, and then raised his head sharply at aquick ringing sound. There was a wire fence up the hill, which he hadgot over because the rotten gate stuck fast. Somebody had stumbled inclimbing it and his foot had struck the wire.
Foster's eyes narrowed as he gazed up the track and saw two figurescome round a corner. They were too far off to be distinct, but werewalking fast. If he sat still, he would be invisible for two or threeminutes but not longer, and he quickly studied his surroundings. Therewere large boulders and brambles between him and the water, and thetall hedge offered a hiding place on the other side. It might be wiserto get out of sight, but he would make an experiment, and dropped a fewwax matches and a London newspaper he had bought in Carlisle. Thecountry people did not use wax matches and London newspapers were notcommon among the Border moors.
Then, moving slowly, he made for the hedge. There were only a fewbushes between him and the approaching men, but he had a goodbackground, into which his figure would melt, and was ready to lie downif needful. He paused for a moment at the edge of the burn, whichspread out in a shallow that reflected the fading light. He might beseen against the water, but something must be risked, and if the menwere looking for him, they would watch the road. Stepping into thestream, he waded across, making as little splash as possible, and founda hole in the hedge, through which he crawled. He was now in theshadow and it would be difficult to distinguish him among the thickstems.
The men were plainly visible and did not look like country people, forthe hill farmers and shepherds walk with a curious gait. Fostercrouched down and waited, knowing he would get a useful hint when theyreached the spot he had left. They stopped and one picked up thenewspaper, while his companion bent down and got up with something inhis hand. Foster, seeing that the fellow had found the matches,wondered whether he had made the trail too plain. If they suspectedthe trick, they would know he was not far off and search for him.
He could not distinguish their faces and regretted this, because itwould have been useful to know the men again, and when they began totalk their voices were too low for him to hear what they said.Presently one left the road on the opposite side to the stream andclimbed the bank, on which he stood as if he wished to look across themoor. The other walked along the edge of the grass with his head bent,but Foster thought it was too dark to see any footprints he might haveleft. The fellow came on a few yards towards the stream, and thenstood still while Foster tried to study him, but could only distinguishhis face as a white oval in the gathering dark.
He was anxious and puzzled, because he did not know whether the menwanted him or Lawrence. The nearer of them would, no doubt, see him ifhe crossed the burn, but Foster thought he might seize and put thefellow out of action before the other came up. This, however, would berisky, and since he did not know their intentions he was not sure hewould gain much if he came off victor. To his relief, the man wentback and joined his companion in the road, where they stood lookingabout, and then set off rapidly down hill as
if they had decided to goon to Jedburgh.
When their footsteps died away Foster turned back along the hedge andstruck across the moor in the dark. It would be better to avoidJedburgh, and he must try to find the house that Pete had told him of.He had some trouble in doing so and on the way fell into a bog, but atlength a light blinked on a hillside and he came to a small building,sheltered by a few stunted ash trees. A shed thatched with heather anda rough stone byre stood near the house, and a big peat-stack filledone end of a miry yard. A dog ran out and circled around Foster,barking, until an old man with a lantern drove it off and asked what hewanted.
Foster said he wanted shelter for the night and was willing to pay forthe accommodation, to which the other replied that they did not take instrangers. When Foster stated that Long Pete had told him to go therehe hesitated, and finally said, "Weel, ye can come awa' in and see themistress."
The flagged kitchen was very clean and a big peat fire burned in thegrate. A black oak meal-chest stood against the wall and old-fashionedchina filled the rack above. On the opposite side, there was a largecupboard, which Foster thought concealed a bed. The room was warm andlooked comfortable after the wet moor. Then Foster turned to thered-cheeked old woman who sat knitting by the fire and fixed on him aquietly-scrutinizing gaze. He explained that he was tired and wantedto stay the night, adding that Pete had said they would be willing toaccommodate him.
"What for no', if ye're a friend o' his?" she asked. "It's a lang roadto Jedburgh. But ye'll be wanting some supper."
Foster confessed that he was hungry and after a time sat down to aplain but appetizing meal. When this was over he gave his host histobacco pouch and for an hour or two they talked and smoked. The manfarmed a patch of sour moss-land, but he was marked by a gravepoliteness and asked his guest no awkward questions. Foster thoughtthe woman was studying him, but she restrained her curiosity and headmitted that the manners of both were remarkably good. He wasbeginning to understand and like the lowland Scots, though he saw thatsome of the opinions he had formed about them were wrong.
They were reserved, essentially practical, and industrious, but theyhad, when one came to know them, a certain reckless humor that one didnot often find among Englishmen. Then they were marked by anindividualistic independence of character that made them impatient ofauthority. They were not turbulent or given to protesting aboutfreedom, but they could not be cajoled or driven. It was strange tofind a well-organized fraternity of poachers in a quiet, law-keepingcountry, but one must allow something for habits inherited frommoss-trooper ancestors. Foster had noted their respect for goodlandlords of ancient stock, but this did not prevent them using thelandlord's salmon and game. Since he had, so to speak, been made amember of the band, it was comforting to feel that they could betrusted, and he was somehow sure of this.
He slept soundly in the cupboard bed and made an excuse for staying atthe farm next day, but as he stood outside the house in the afternoonhis host came up.
"There were two men on the Jedburgh road asking about a stranger on awalking tour."
"Ah!" said Foster. "Do you know whether they asked if the man theywanted wore a glove?"
"They did that!"
Foster pondered. He was being searched for, and his host knew he wasthe man inquired about, but the old fellow's face was expressionless.
"Since I didn't get so far as the road, they'd learn nothing."
The other's eyes twinkled. "I wouldna' say they would find out much ifthey cam' up here."
"Well," said Foster, "I don't know yet if I'll go on to-day or not."
"Ye ken best aboot that," the farmer answered with Scottish dryness."I dinna' see much objection if ye're for stopping another night."
He went off, but Foster felt satisfied that he was safe with him, andpresently strolled round to the peat-stack where he sat down in thesun. There was a hollow where the peats had been pulled out, and thebrown dust was warm and dry. Lighting his pipe, he began to think. Hewas being watched, but whether by the police, or Daly, or somebodyelse, there was nothing to show. He did not think his poachingadventure had much to do with it, but he had taken the packet toNewcastle, although he had been warned against this. There was amystery about the packet.
For a time he got no further, and as he sat, gazing vacantly across themoor, the sun went behind a cloud and the freshening wind whistledround the stack. It got cold and Foster's pipe burned out, but he didnot move. Hitherto he had been working in the dark, feeling for aclew, but he began to see a glimmer of light and presently clenched hisfist with an exclamation. The light dawned on him in an illuminatingflash.
He had been tricked and made a tool. Carmen had acted by her father's,or somebody else's, orders when she gave him the packet, and the man inEdinburgh had enclosed something before he sent him on to Newcastle.Nobody would suspect him and that was why he had been entrusted withthe packet in Canada. It was now clear that he had been made use of tocarry the stolen bonds to Great Britain. Carmen, of course, knewnothing about them, but had been influenced by Daly. Perhaps she wasin love with him, but in the meantime this did not matter. Fosterfilled his pipe again, because he meant to solve the puzzle while thelight was clear and his brain was working well.
Alice Featherstone had given him the first hint of the truth when shesuggested that the packet was somehow connected with his being watchedand Daly's pursuit of Lawrence. Of course it was! The police had notmuch ground for suspecting him, but he had come to England without anyobvious business, and if Hulton or his agents had warned them, theywould inquire about strangers from Canada. Then he began to see whyDaly was determined to find Lawrence.
Fred Hulton had been robbed and killed and Daly was implicated in thecrime, if he had not committed it himself. The fellow's first objectwas not blackmail; he meant to use his power over Lawrence to ensurehis secrecy. Lawrence was the only person who had seen the murderer.It could not have been clear if he had mistaken him for the watchman ornot when he went into the pay-office at the factory, and as long as adoubt remained Lawrence was the greatest danger the gang had to reckonon. Foster felt sure there was a gang. Admitting all this, one couldunderstand why Daly meant to find Lawrence, but Foster began to see howhe could make use of the situation.
He had been easily deceived and the plotters no doubt thought him afool. Suppose he took advantage of their belief and asked for ananswer to his message or something of the kind? He might by good luckget a letter or find out enough about them to explain what had happenedin Canada. The vague plan appealed to him strongly. He was savage atthe way he had been tricked, and it would be something to circumventthe people who had made him a tool. Besides, he could not go to thepolice yet: Lawrence's secret must be kept. He must first of all gainsuch a hold on Daly as would render him powerless to injure hiscomrade. After that, when he knew how far the man was implicated inthe robbery, he could decide what ought to be done. Well, he would goto Newcastle and see Graham, to whom he had given the packet, but hemight need help and thought he knew where to find it. Getting up witha quick, resolute movement, he went back to the house.
"I'm going to write to Pete and bring him here," he said to the woman."I don't suppose you'll turn me out before he comes."
She gave him a quiet, searching glance, and her husband seemed to leavethe matter to her.
"For a' his poaching, ye'll find Pate an honest man," she answeredmeaningly.
"So am I; it's an honest man I want. You have trusted me and I'lltrust you as far as I can when Pete arrives. Shall we leave it untilthen?"
The woman nodded. "Ye can stay until he ken what yere business is."
"Thank you," said Foster, who sat down to write to Pete.
He thought her judgment would be just, if she had not already decidedin his favor. Until he came to Scotland, he had never met people whocould say so little and mean so much. Moreover, he imagined one coulddepend upon their standing by all that they implied. They weretaciturn but staunch
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