In the Fog
Page 2
country house because when he journeyedto it in the train he would become so absorbed in his detectivestories that he was invariably carried past his station." The member ofParliament twisted his pearl stud nervously, and bit at the edge of hismustache. "If it only were the first pages of 'The Rand Robbery' thathe were reading," he murmured bitterly, "instead of the last! With suchanother book as that, I swear I could hold him here until morning. Therewould be no need of chloroform to keep him from the House."
The eyes of all were fastened upon Sir Andrew, and each saw withfascination that with his forefinger he was now separating the last twopages of the book. The member of Parliament struck the table softly withhis open palm.
"I would give a hundred pounds," he whispered, "if I could place in hishands at this moment a new story of Sherlock Holmes--a thousand pounds,"he added wildly--"five thousand pounds!"
The American observed the speaker sharply, as though the words bore tohim some special application, and then at an idea which apparently hadbut just come to him, smiled in great embarrassment.
Sir Andrew ceased reading, but, as though still under the influence ofthe book, sat looking blankly into the open fire. For a brief space noone moved until the baronet withdrew his eyes and, with a sudden startof recollection, felt anxiously for his watch. He scanned its faceeagerly, and scrambled to his feet.
The voice of the American instantly broke the silence in a high, nervousaccent.
"And yet Sherlock Holmes himself," he cried, "could not decipher themystery which to-night baffles the police of London."
At these unexpected words, which carried in them something of the toneof a challenge, the gentlemen about the table started as suddenly asthough the American had fired a pistol in the air, and Sir Andrew haltedabruptly and stood observing him with grave surprise.
The gentleman with the black pearl was the first to recover.
"Yes, yes," he said eagerly, throwing himself across the table. "Amystery that baffles the police of London.
05 "My name," he said, "is Sears."]
"I have heard nothing of it. Tell us at once, pray do--tell us at once."
The American flushed uncomfortably, and picked uneasily at thetablecloth.
"No one but the police has heard of it," he murmured, "and they onlythrough me. It is a remarkable crime, to, which, unfortunately, I am theonly person who can bear witness. Because I am the only witness, Iam, in spite of my immunity as a diplomat, detained in London by theauthorities of Scotland Yard. My name," he said, inclining his headpolitely, "is Sears, Lieutenant Ripley Sears of the United States Navy,at present Naval Attache to the Court of Russia. Had I not been detainedto-day by the police I would have started this morning for Petersburg."
The gentleman with the black pearl interrupted with so pronounced anexclamation of excitement and delight that the American stammered andceased speaking.
"Do you hear, Sir Andrew!" cried the member of Parliament jubilantly."An American diplomat halted by our police because he is the onlywitness of a most remarkable crime--_the_ most remarkable crime, Ibelieve you said, sir," he added, bending eagerly toward the navalofficer, "which has occurred in London in many years."
The American moved his head in assent and glanced at the two othermembers. They were looking doubtfully at him, and the face of eachshowed that he was greatly perplexed.
Sir Andrew advanced to within the light of the candles and drew a chairtoward him.
"The crime must be exceptional indeed," he said, "to justify the policein interfering with a representative of a friendly power. If I were notforced to leave at once, I should take the liberty of asking you to tellus the details."
The gentleman with the pearl pushed the chair toward Sir Andrew, andmotioned him to be seated.
"You cannot leave us now," he exclaimed. "Mr. Sears is just about totell us of this remarkable crime."
He nodded vigorously at the naval officer and the American, after firstglancing doubtfully toward the servants at the far end of the room,leaned forward across the table. The others drew their chairs nearer andbent toward him. The baronet glanced irresolutely at his watch, and withan exclamation of annoyance snapped down the lid. "They can wait," hemuttered. He seated himself quickly and nodded at Lieutenant Sears.
"If you will be so kind as to begin, sir," he said impatiently.
"Of course," said the American, "you understand that I understand thatI am speaking to gentlemen. The confidences of this Club are inviolate.Until the police give the facts to the public press, I must consider youmy confederates. You have heard nothing, you know no one connected withthis mystery. Even I must remain anonymous."
The gentlemen seated around him nodded gravely.
"Of course," the baronet assented with eagerness, "of course."
"We will refer to it," said the gentleman with the black pearl, "as 'TheStory of the Naval Attache.'"
"I arrived in London two days ago," said the American, "and I engaged aroom at the Bath Hotel. I know very few people in London, and even themembers of our embassy were strangers to me. But in Hong Kong I hadbecome great pals with an officer in your navy, who has since retired,and who is now living in a small house in Rutland Gardens opposite theKnightsbridge barracks. I telegraphed him that I was in London, andyesterday morning I received a most hearty invitation to dine with himthe same evening at his house. He is a bachelor, so we dined alone andtalked over all our old days on the Asiatic Station, and of the changeswhich had come to us since we had last met there. As I was leaving thenext morning for my post at Petersburg, and had many letters to write,I told him, about ten o'clock, that I must get back to the hotel, and hesent out his servant to call a hansom.
"For the next quarter of an hour, as we sat talking, we could hear thecab whistle sounding violently from the doorstep, but apparently with noresult.
"'It cannot be that the cabmen are on strike,' my friend said, as herose and walked to the window.
"He pulled back the curtains and at once called to me.
"'You have never seen a London fog, have you?' he asked. 'Well, comehere. This is one of the best, or, rather, one of the worst, of them.' Ijoined him at the window, but I could see nothing. Had I not known thatthe house looked out upon the street I would have believed that I wasfacing a dead wall. I raised the sash and stretched out my head, butstill I could see nothing. Even the light of the street lamps opposite,and in the upper windows of the barracks, had been smothered in theyellow mist. The lights of the room in which I stood penetrated the fogonly to the distance of a few inches from my eyes.
"Below me the servant was still sounding his whistle, but I could affordto wait no longer, and told my friend that I would try and find the wayto my hotel on foot. He objected, but the letters I had to write werefor the Navy Department, and, besides, I had always heard that to be outin a London fog was the most wonderful experience, and I was curious toinvestigate one for myself.
"My friend went with me to his front door, and laid down a course for meto follow. I was first to walk straight across the street to the brickwall of the Knightsbridge Barracks. I was then to feel my way along thewall until I came to a row of houses set back from the sidewalk. Theywould bring me to a cross street. On the other side of this street wasa row of shops which I was to follow until they joined the iron railingsof Hyde Park. I was to keep to the railings until I reached the gatesat Hyde Park Corner, where I was to lay a diagonal course acrossPiccadilly, and tack in toward the railings of Green Park. At the endof these railings, going east, I would find the Walsingham, and my ownhotel.
"To a sailor the course did not seem difficult, so I bade my friendgoodnight and walked forward until my feet touched the paving. Icontinued upon it until I reached the curbing of the sidewalk. A fewsteps further, and my hands struck the wall of the barracks. I turnedin the direction from which I had just come, and saw a square of faintlight cut in the yellow fog. I shouted 'All right,' and the voice ofmy friend answered, 'Good luck to you.' The light from his open doordisappeared with a b
ang, and I was left alone in a dripping, yellowdarkness. I have been in the Navy for ten years, but I have never knownsuch a fog as that of last night, not even among the icebergs of BehringSea. There one at least could see the light of the binnacle, but lastnight I could not even distinguish the hand by which I guided myselfalong the barrack wall. At sea a fog is a natural phenomenon. It is asfamiliar as the rainbow which follows a storm, it is as proper thata fog should spread upon the waters as that steam shall rise from akettle. But a fog which springs from the paved streets, that rollsbetween solid house-fronts, that forces cabs to move at half speed, thatdrowns policemen and extinguishes the electric lights of the music hall,that to me is incomprehensible. It is