First Person Paramount

by Ambrose Pratt

  VI

  A BATTLE OF WITS

  At ten o'clock on the next morning, as I approached my master's housein Curzon Street, I saw Sir Charles Venner's brougham waiting beforethe door. I thought it highly probable that Sir Charles would requireme to give an account of my absence from duty, whether he suspected meor not, for he was in the position of a man obliged by circumstances tosuspect everyone, even his nearest and dearest friend. Nerving myselffor the encounter, I assumed a dejected and lugubrious expression, andslowly mounting the steps, I inserted my latch-key in the lock. Thehall was deserted, but I heard a mutter of voices in the ante-room, andthither I betook myself at once. "Best get it over quickly," was mythought.

  The door was ajar, and peering through I perceived Mr. Sefton Dagmarand Sir Charles Venner in earnest converse. Mr. Dagmar's hat was lyingupon the table. Sir Charles carried his in his hand. I rapped softlyupon the panel and entered.

  "Ah, Brown!" exclaimed the younger man. "Back, I see."

  "Good morning, sir," I muttered, and turning to Sir Charles I anxiouslyenquired after my master.

  "Your master is much worse!" he replied, looking at me very keenly. "Iexpect the crisis to-night!"

  "He will recover, sir, I hope. You will surely save him, Sir Charles!"

  "I don't know!"

  Mr. Sefton Dagmar took up his hat and left the room, throwing me a winkas he passed. "I think it's up to me to take a constitutional," heobserved, by way of excusing his departure. "Au revoir, Sir Charles!"

  "Au revoir!" returned the surgeon. His eyes had never left my face. Hewaited until we heard the street door close, then he said quietly: "Andhow is your mother, Brown?"

  "She is dead, sir!" I spoke the words in a low, dull tone, but withoutattempting any exhibition of emotion. I knew better than to play such agame with the man before me.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," he observed. "You'll want to attend herfuneral, I suppose. When is she to be buried?"

  "This afternoon, sir," I answered looking at the floor.

  He drew in a long, sharp inspiration, which said plainer than words: "Ithought so!"

  I understood that he suspected me. I raised my eyes to his, however,with a worried melancholy expression, and I said in a hesitating way."It's very good of you, sir, to sympathize with me--I'msure--I--I--I--feel almost emboldened to take a liberty. I'm, I'm ingreat trouble, sir?"

  "Well, Brown?" His eyes were gleaming like drawn swords.

  "It's this way, sir," I muttered. "My mother's illness has runaway--with my little bit of savings, sir--and--and--the undertakerwants spot cash for the coffin, sir. He won't trust me, and I don'tknow what to do, seeing master is so ill. It'd be all right, if he waswell, for I haven't drawn my last month's wages, sir."

  "I see, you wish me to lend you some money."

  I hung my head in real artistic shame. "I'd never dare--ask--you, sir!"I muttered brokenly, "but since you've said it yourself, sir, I--I--" Ipaused as if unable to proceed.

  "How much do you need?"

  "Five pounds would do, sir. Master owes me eight, and I could make itover to you, if you'd only be so good. You see, sir, I'd hate"--Ichoked--"a--a--pauper funeral, sir."

  "Naturally, my man," his voice was much kinder. "But there will be noneed for that. I shall lend you the money with pleasure. Let me see,it's ten now, I shall return to see your master again at twelve andbring the money with me. I have only a few shillings about me at thismoment!"

  "Thank you, sir," I stammered. "I'll never forget it of you, sir!" Atthat juncture I allowed a tear to roll down my cheek, as I raised myface to look at him, but I brushed it hastily away, as though ashamed.

  He did not appear to notice anything, however, and without another wordhe left the house. I considered that I had allayed his suspicions, butI dared not make too sure, for that man possessed a more admirablecontrol of feature than any other I had ever known. I determined,therefore, to be careful and remit no precaution, however small ortroublesome, in order to secure myself. To that end I took an earlyopportunity of confiding my trouble to Nurse Hargreaves, and I almostmade her weep by the touching manner in which I described my mother'sdeath.

  Sir Charles returned punctually at twelve o'clock and he put fivesovereigns into my hand as I admitted him. He was also kind enough totell me that I might leave the house at once, in order to conduct mymother's funeral arrangements. I took him at his word. My first thoughtas I stepped into the street was this:--"Am I to be shadowed? And ifso, how shall I discover the spy?" The pavement was dotted withpedestrians who all appeared to be minding their own business. I walkedbriskly towards Piccadilly. Before long I knew that I was followed, Icannot explain how I knew, for although I seized every opportunity Icould to look back, I could not locate my shadower; but I felt that Iwas shadowed, felt it in my bones. I was thrilled, exhilarated!Difficulties and dangers always delight me, and always call, as with atrumpet blast, my best faculties to action. I considered what to do. Imight easily have shaken off my pursuer had I wished, but to evendisplay such a desire would inevitably convert Sir Charles Venner'ssuspicions into convictions. It was my ambition, on the other hand, todestroy his suspicions altogether. An inspiration came to me atPiccadilly Circus. I smothered a cry of delight, and entered an OxfordStreet omnibus. The end seat was vacant. I took it, and gazedwatchfully behind me. To even a trained observer like myself, it was noeasy task to pick out of the great moving throng that followed myconveyance the man whose business was wrapped up in my own. But I didnot despair, and set steadily to work. At Oxford Circus I was sure thathe had not entered my 'bus. There I alighted and took another to LondonBridge. In which of the omnibuses and cabs trailing behind me was hethen seated? Nearest of all was a Bank 'bus; I did not believe itcontained him. Beyond that an empty hansom rolled along, then afourwheeler, then a greengrocer's cart, with a smart looking ponybetween the shafts. I thought he might be in the fourwheeler, but no,it turned down Museum Street. This brought the greengrocer's cartnearer to the empty hansom, and gave me a chance to examine some of thepassengers on a Chancery Lane 'bus beyond. At Red Lion Street we pulledup, and the Bank 'bus passed us with a good start, also the emptyhansom. I had now a good view of the Chancery Lane 'bus over thegreengrocer's cart, and of another 'bus behind that, bound for Gray'sInn Road. We soon passed Chancery Lane, and so lost one more 'bus. Thepony drawing the greengrocer's cart was now almost touching our stepswith his nose. Not a soul of those who alighted from the Chancery Lane'bus came our way. I examined the Gray's Inn Road 'bus, but itcontained only three women and a boy. Two hansoms now joined theprocession, but the first carried an eye-glassed snob, and the other anofficer in uniform. I was beginning to feel very puzzled when itsuddenly occurred to me to prospect the greengrocer's cart, whichhitherto I had scarcely more than glanced at. Two costers occupied theseat, but otherwise the cart was empty. The driver was a realunmistakable hall-marked coster, but his companion gave me a doubt. Forone thing, he was smoking a cigar; for another, he held on to his seatin order to support himself; for a third, although he wore no collar,he had a remarkably white neck--for a coster.

  "There," said I, "is my man."

  I did not look at him again. There was no need. To kill time I bought apaper at the next corner, and diligently studied its contents, until wecame to London Bridge, where I alighted, and transferred myself to aNew Cross 'bus. I mounted to the top and began to scan the houses thatwe passed with the closest possible attention. It was not, however,until we left Tabard Street behind and had half traversed the Old KentRoad, that I discovered what I was looking for. This was a "doubleevent"--so to speak. An apartment house and an undertaker'sestablishment, situated within easy walking distance of each other.Many a coffin shop did I see, and many an apartment house, but theywere unhappily too separated for my purpose. The fortunate combinationoccurred between Astley Street and Ossary Road. First came theundertaker's shop, and then the apartment house. Nothing could havebeen more suitable. Opposite the latter I swung myself from the 'bus,and ste
pped upon the footpath. The greengrocer's cart passed me by sometwenty yards at a smart trot, then slowed down to a walk. I strode upto the door of the apartment house, and rapped sharply on the knocker.It was a low, grimy, building, with many grimy windows, whose shutteredblinds had once been green, but now were grey with grease and dust. Acard in either lower windows signified its calling: "Apartments to let!"

  The door was opened by a greasy-faced woman, whose coal black oilylocks were crimped in curl-papers. I pushed past her into the hall,without so much as "by your leave," and shut the door behind me. Iacted so, lest my shadower should suspect that I visited the house forthe first time. The woman at once began to protest at the top of hervoice, against my cavalier behaviour. But I cut her short with asovereign, which she bit, in the fashion of her class, eyeing me thewhile as though she expected me to snatch it back again.

  Silence thus secured, I addressed her in this fashion: "Madam, I am awoodcarver by trade, and a rich old gentleman has just commissioned meto carve a wonderful design upon a coffin in which he wishes to buryhis wife who is lately dead. My master, however, jealous at my goodfortune, has dismissed me from his employ, and as it is necessary forme to get immediately to work, I must hire a room in the neighbourhoodwithout delay. If you have a front room on the ground floor which youcan let to me, I shall be glad to pay you for it at the rate of onepound for every day I use it in advance, and give you the pound you arebiting, into the bargain!"

  "Lawks!" she cried, then uttered a croaking laugh. "You must be gettingwell paid for the job!"

  "A hundred pounds!" I replied.

  "No wonder you are in a hurry."

  "Have you such a room as I require?" I demanded impatiently.

  She opened a door at her right hand, and showed me a musty guestchamber, which still smelt of its former occupant, who must have been atanner, I should say.

  "It will do," I declared.

  "Yes, but will you bring the coffin here?"

  "Assuredly."

  "Not for a pound a day, though, mister!" she retorted with a cunningsmile. "Why, all my boarders would clear out!"

  "How much do you want, then?"

  "Two quid, not a penny less."

  I paid the money into her hand. Her eyes glinted with rage andself-contempt, because she had not demanded three, but I did not chooseto heed.

  "I shall return in ten minutes with the coffin!" I said quickly. "Inthe meanwhile that room is mine. Please see that no one goes into it,and do not on any account open the window!"

  In another moment I was out of the house, and walking back brisklytowards the city, followed at a distance by the greengrocer's cart.

  The undertaker's shop was half a mile away. I reached it in less thanfour minutes, and entered with the air of a busy bourgeois.

  "How much that box?" I asked of the proprietor, pointing to animitation oak coffin that was half hidden behind several more showyconstructions.

  "Four pounds," said he.

  "Could you deliver it at once?"

  "No, sir, my carts are all out."

  "You have attendants?"

  He scratched his head, "How fur?" he questioned.

  "Only a few hundred yards down the street! I'm willing to pay an extrafive shillings for promptitude." He stepped to an open glass door andshouted--"Jim! Frank!"

  Two young men, evidently apprentices, answered his call. I put downfour sovereigns and five shillings on the counter.

  The undertaker picked up the money, and pointed to my purchase. "Pickout the plain oak and take it to this gentleman's house!" he commanded."He'll show you the way! Do you want a receipt, sir?"

  "I'll call back for it," I replied, and strode from the shop.

  The small procession that I headed occasioned a good deal of comment,and excited not a few grisly jests as we proceeded. But I paid no heedto any, and marched along with the expression of a lover latelybereaved of his sweetheart.

  One pitiful "poor chap, he looks down in the mug, Bill, don't he?" morethan rewarded me for all the honest effort I was putting forth, andcompensated for the jokes besides. I looked neither to right nor left,and not once back; but I knew that the greengrocer's cart stillsteadily dogged my wanderings.

  My new landlady admitted us without a protest. I made my attendantsplace the coffin upon the bed, and dismissed them with a shillingapiece. I then locked the door and crept to the window. I was just intime to see, through a slit in the shutter, the greengrocer's cart setoff at a swift trot towards London. Cautiously raising the sash Ipushed aside the blind and craned out my head. No, I had not beenmisled. The road ran straight, and although I watched the cart until itwas swallowed up in a maze of other vehicles, near a thousand yardsaway, neither of the costers seemed to find it worth while to look back.

  I closed the window, and sitting down beside the coffin, laughed untilmy sides ached. Once again I had crossed swords with Sir CharlesVenner, and once again the victory was mine. I did not respect him theless, but I admit that I glorified myself the more. I could not,however, afford much time for self-gratulation. I had a great deal todo, and it was already two o'clock. Stepping into the passage, Ishouted for the landlady, and made that astonished woman a present ofmy coffin. It is evident that she thought me a lunatic, but what caredI for that? In another moment I was hasting down the road, looking onall sides for a cab. An empty fourwheeler overtook me at last, and Idrove like mad to London Bridge, where I took a hansom to BrutonStreet. I was very hungry by then, but I could not spare a minute for ameal, and I comforted myself with the reflection that, granted a littleluck, I might dine that evening in absolute security on the fat of theland, a rich man in veritable deed.

  I had once known rather intimately a Polish Jew named Kutnewsky, whohad been my fellow lodger in a boarding-house at Leeds. Him I resolvedto personate. He was a fat, podgy person, with a hook nose, and a long,thick black beard, and his voice was oily, his foreign accent hideous.All the while I dressed, I practised his voice and accent. I had it atlast to a T. The wonderful development of my facial muscles enabled meto raise or depress the tip of my nose at will, so as to lend it eithera pug, or a Judaic cast, as I preferred. A false wig and beard withclothes in keeping completed my disguise. I was very soon a Jew--infact, the double of Kutnewsky. I then packed a small valise with acomplete suit of fashionable clothes, which had been originally madefor a man of my size, by a Bond Street tailor, and which were stillalmost brand new, although I had bought them at a rag shop for a song.I included also in my bag, a travelling cap, a white shirt, a doubledlinen collar, a smart tie, and a pair of light patent leather boots.The boots I wore were heavy hand-sewn bluchers, two sizes too large forme. I slipped into my pocket a black moustache and a pair of largeblack eyebrows. Finally, I exchanged my ordinary set of false teeth fora plate planted with hideous yellow fangs, some of which protruded frommy lip. At a quarter to four, I was ready to face the world. A glanceat the window showed me that a fine rain was falling; I therefore puton a mackintosh, and cramming a glossy silk hat upon my head, I set outarmed with my valise and an umbrella. A fourwheeler took me to OxfordCircus, whence a hansom brought me back to Piccadilly and theBolingbroke Hotel. I presented myself to the clerk, whom I informed inexecrable broken English, that I was the famous German Court Surgeon,Herr Dr. Garschagen, just arrived from Berlin, to confer with myequally eminent colleague, Sir Charles Venner, upon a case of greatmoment, in which my advice had been urgently demanded. I declared thatI had telegraphed from Berlin to secure apartments on the first floor,and I became very angry when the clerk protested that my message hadnot been received, and that there was not a single vacant apartment onthe first floor. He, however, very deferentially led me himself to aroom on the third floor, which I reluctantly engaged. I told him tosend Sir Charles up immediately he arrived, and with a foreignboorishness I slammed the door in his face. My first act was to emptymy valise and conceal its contents in a wardrobe. That effected, Iarranged the dressing-table just as I had done on the previous day inmy room at
the Colonnade Hotel, and I set my empty valise thereon. Ithen removed my waterproof, and putting on a pair of goggles, I satdown to await my victim. As before he was prompt to the fraction of aminute. A small thin-featured waiter ushered him in. As before SirCharles gave his attendant a shilling and entered the room; I, grindingout the while, a string of guttural, yet oily greetings in brokenEnglish. Sir Charles Venner's face was pale, but icily composed. Heeyed me for a full minute with a look of piercing hate, then, takingoff his hat, he quietly sat down upon the chair I had provided. Ifollowed his example.

  "Is Dr. Rudolf Garschagen identical with Mr. Seth Halford?" he askedquietly.

  "Undoubtedly, Sir Charles."

  "I stood in need of your assurance!" he muttered frowning. "But Iconfess I should like you to explain the meaning of your presentmummery. You were excellently well disguised before!"

  I bowed profoundly. "Thank you for the compliment, Sir Charles. I shallexplain with pleasure. It is my custom to change my appearance as oftenas my clothes. The wisdom of this course will be apparent to you, whenyou consider that you have already confessed to a confused impressionof me in your mind!"

  His frown grew more black. "You appear to be a confoundedly cleverfellow!" he exclaimed in irritated tones.

  "I entertain such a lively respect for my opponent that I have tried toshow you my best!" I replied, laying a gloved hand on my heart.

  "I did not come here to exchange compliments with you," he retortedcoldly. "Kindly get to business."

  "Have you the money?" I demanded.

  "Yes. But I shall not give you a solitary farthing until I am furnishedwith a substantial guarantee that this will be your last impertinence.My--er--friends and I do not propose to let you hold our souls in pawn."

  "What guarantee do you require?"

  He took a paper from his packet and tossed it carelessly upon thetable. "Read!" said he.

  The paper contained a confession that I--a blank was left for myname--on a certain night, stole from Sir Charles Venner, by means ofimpersonation and fraud, the sum of three hundred pounds.

  "I suppose you wish me to sign this?" I asked.

  "Certainly, and to disclose your identity besides!"

  I smiled grimly and tore the paper into shreds.

  "You must be satisfied with my oath, which I give you freely, that youwill never hear from me again, Sir Charles. Now, please, the money."

  "I am sorry," he said softly. "But we cannot do business on thoseterms!"

  I bowed and got at once to my feet. "Then our interview is at an end!"I moved towards the bell, but I had not advanced two paces when hecried out, "Stop!"

  I turned to look into the muzzle of a revolver. Sir Charles Venner'sright eye gleamed behind the sights, and his expression wasdiabolically wicked. I hate fire-arms. They make me nervous, especiallywhen pointed in the direction of my vital organs, by a presumablydesperate man. A cold shivering thrill quivered up my spine, and I feltmy knee joints loosen. My eyes, however, did not cease to serve me, andwith a gasp of reviving hope I noted that the pistol was not cocked.It, however, takes more than a second to recover from such a shock as Ihad received, and Sir Charles had only perceived my first sharp gush offear.

  "Remove your glasses and your wig!" he commanded in a low but terriblevoice.

  My impulse was to obey unhesitatingly, but with an iron effort Isubdued it.

  "Be quick!" he cried.

  I smiled. It was a miserable grimace, I dare admit, nevertheless Ismiled.

  "By the God above us you will die in your tracks, unless you areunmasked before I count six!"

  I said to myself--"Oh, no, I shall not. Sir Charles Venner is aconsumptive, with at most a year of life before him. Men cling to lifemost dearly when their days are numbered. Moreover, well he knows, thissurgeon, that if he kills me he must hang! and speedily."

  "One!" said he.

  I smiled again.

  "Two!"

  "You are a great mathematician!" I sneered, and bowed to him.

  "Three!"

  "Murder me some other time, Sir Charles!" I muttered, "when you may doso with some hope of giving the penalty leg bail!"

  "Four!" he cried, in a voice that froze my blood. And with his thumb heraised the hammer of the pistol.

  "You will hang!" I gasped. "You will hang, and we shall meet in Hell!"

  "Five!" he hissed.

  "Fire!" I cried. It was the most courageous act of my life!

  Sir Charles Venner let his hand fall, and his eyes. I heard a click,and I watched him restore the pistol to his pocket. In one second hehad aged ten years. He was now an old man, haggard faced and trembling.

  I strode to the bell and pressed the button. I had won the battlewell--woe to the vanquished! I stalked over to the door and threw itwide. "Get out of this!" I grated. "Get out of this and go--hangyourself if you want to cheat the hangman. You've had your fun, and nowby heaven! I'll have my pound of flesh!"

  He raised to me the face of a panic-stricken craven. "For Christ'ssake!" he cried, and even pleaded with his hands. He was beaten indeed.Not only his courage, but his pride was shattered into fragments. Isurveyed the wreck I had occasioned, and relented.

  "Well, then!" I said, "the money!"

  With feverish hands he tore from his coat a small bundle of notes andforced them upon me.

  "Count them, count them!" he mumbled.

  "Go!" I ordered sternly.

  "But, but--your oath!"

  "I'll keep it--go!"

  He uttered a hollow groan, and rushed out of the room.

  I looked at the notes. They were brand new, and ten in number. Eachrepresented one thousand pounds. Hearing footfalls I concealed them,and a second later, there came to me the small thin-faced waiter whohad conducted Sir Charles to my apartment.

  I gave him a florin, and said. "I want a man, big--my own size--justlike me--to carry a box. You are too small. Send me a man like I wantat once, but he must belong to your hotel, I can trust no strangers!"

  The fellow bowed and promised, and hurried off. I put on my hat, and assoon as he had disappeared, I followed him. A gentleman stood by theelevator door, as though waiting for it to ascend. I passed him, andbegan to descend the stairs. He immediately rang the bell three times.Was that a signal, I wondered. I returned very quickly, but he stillstood there, and he did not seem to be aware of my existence. But herang the bell _once_. I again began to descend the stairs. Again thebell rang three times. I came to the lower floor, and there anothergentleman was standing before the elevator door. I passed him and herang the bell twice. "How curious!" thought I, "my room is on the thirdfloor of the hotel. There the bell was thrice rung; but on the secondfloor only twice, and most remarkable coincidence of all, the elevatordoes not trouble to appear!" I had left the second floor--I returned toit! The waiting gentleman rang once! I was satisfied. "Sir CharlesVenner," said I, "has put at least three detectives on my trail!"

  I marched straight up to the elevator door and rang the bellmyself--one long continued ring. It appeared at once. "Ze third floor!"I muttered to the attendant. "Ich haf forgotten zomding!" I gave theman a shilling, and a moment later I was back in my room with the doorshut. I began to undress, and when the knock that I expected sounded, Istood in my socks and underclothes alone.

  "Come in," I cried.

  A burly red face waiter entered. He wore a short black beard at thesight of which I rejoiced. "Shut the door!" said I. He obeyed.

  "Mein friendt!" said I, looking at him very keenly, "do you vish toearn a sovereign?"

  "Rather!" he cried.

  "Then vill you go a message for me!"

  "Yes, sir--"

  "You see dose boots." I pointed to the pair I had removed.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Take off your own and put on dose. You are going to valk through somemud, and as it rains I do not vish you to catch cold. They will fityou!" I added, for he seemed to hesitate. He looked extremelyastonished, but he sat down and did my bidding. I smiled upon him
verygenially. "If you do well, I shall double your reward!" I said. "Whatis your name, my man!"

  "Clint, sir."

  "Very good, Clint. Now I vant you to leaf zis hotel without any vonknowing dat you go! I tell you vy ven you come back. Here, take ziszovereign."

  He took it, but he frowned. "I'd get into a row, sir, if it was known,"he muttered doubtfully.

  I gave him another sovereign. "Don't you vorry apout dot row," said I."I fix you wit your boss. I not vant you to do nozzing wrong, my boy,hein?"

  "No, sir, of course not!" He looked much happier.

  "Zen put on zis waterproof of mine, so. Button it opp to ze chin. Ach,Himmel, zat is goot! Now mein friend, zis cap, so! button ze flap underze chin! So, sehr goot, your mutter not know you now, hein!"

  He looked in the glass and laughed aloud at his reflection. I took offmy goggles and handed them to him. "Put on dose!" I said, "und dat isall!"

  He obeyed me, and I almost shouted out in my delight, he looked so verylike a man disguised.

  "Now mein friendt, you can go!" said I.

  "Where to, sir?" he enquired.

  I gave him a handful of silver. "You take a cab," I began, "and youdrive to ze Marble Arch, zere you get out, und you take a 'bus toCricklewood, you mind dat?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Vell, ven you come to ze Cricklewood terminus, you find a man zerevaiting for you--a big Sherman gentleman, like me. You say to him:"Doctor!" und he vill take you at once across a hill to his house, undhe give you a small box! You bring that box back to me quick, und takecare not to lose it--for it is vorth much geld--zat is money. You knownow what you do? Hein?"

  He assured me that he understood, and would follow my instructions tothe letter, whereupon I dismissed him to his fate. In another moment Ihad changed my fang teeth for a more fashionable set, and ten minuteslater I slipped out of the passage, locking my door behind me, as smarta dude as ever stepped from a Bond Street band-box. My facial disguiseconsisted of a monocle, a dark wig, black eyebrows, and a sweet littlesilky black moustache. I walked with mincing steps, and I screwed up myfeatures till they looked as vacuous and expressionless as possible. Ifound on turning the corner that a gentleman, whose figure Irecognized, was standing before the elevator door. For a second I wentcold. "Had my decoy then failed of its purpose?" I asked myself. In afever of anxiety I began to descend the stairs, straining my ears tolisten. No signal bell rang--but I heard swift footfalls in thepassage. In a flash I understood. Two of my three shadowers hadfollowed the waiter, Clint, but the third had remained behind to watchmy room. He would certainly be furnished with a master key, and withina minute, he would open my door and discover my escape. Moreover, hewould know for certain whom he must thenceforth follow, for he hadgiven me a sharp look as I passed him.

  Instead of hurrying, however, I walked more leisurely than before.Three spies would have been too much for me, but one I did not carefor. I felt confident I would elude him as soon as I pleased. As ittranspired we reached the ground floor almost together, for hedescended in the elevator. I took a good look at him, and marched tothe street door. Beckoning to a porter, I directed him in mealy tonesto fetch me a hansom. One stood already by the kerb, but instinct toldme that it belonged to my spy. The porter blew his whistle, and asecond hansom soon appeared. I threw the porter half a crown and sprangaboard. "Streeters', Bond Street!" I cried, and we were off. My missionwas to dispose of my bank-notes; for well I knew that their numberswould be noted, and that the longer they remained in my possession themore certainly would they provide a clue to the ultimate establishmentof my identity. On the other hand, to pay them into my bank would havebeen equivalent to making a present of my secret to my enemy. I would,it is true, lose something by the exchange, but I could well afford topay handsomely for my security. My shadower followed me so closely,that I perceived he was no longer anxious to conceal his occupation. Wealighted from our cabs within ten paces of each other, and he trod uponmy heels as I entered the great jewellers. I had a mind to turn andoffer him my arm. I bought two magnificent necklaces, and a long stringof splendid brilliants under his very nose, paying therefore myL10,000, and receiving two hundred pounds in change. I then purchased alittle brooch for twenty guineas. As we left the shop, I nodded kindlyto my shadower, and advised him in an underbreath to be careful. Hemade no reply, but he gritted his teeth together in the manner of abull-dog. He looked rather like a bull-dog too, in other respects. Hehad a long forehead, great heavy jaws, and little watchful eyes. Theclocks were striking a quarter to six as we resumed our hansoms. Idrove to the Alhambra Music Hall and purchased a stall. I thenproceeded to Verrey's restaurant and ordered a first-rate dinner. Myspy took a seat at my table without asking my permission, and we gazedat each other steadily while we discussed the meal. But while I ateroast pheasant, he partook of beef, and while I drank sparklingBurgundy, he absorbed a quart of bitter beer. I would have engaged himin conversation, for I am of a sociable disposition, and I bore him noill-will, but the fact is, he was an extremely vulgar fellow, and if Ihad not been simply ravenous, his table manners must infallibly havedestroyed my appetite. When I could eat no more, I bought from mywaiter a sheet of note-paper, an envelope, and a lead pencil. I thensmoked a cigar, and when eight struck, I drove to the theatre. Myshadower secured a seat three rows behind me. I studied the programme,and discovered that the second succeeding item was to be a song danceperformed by a lady named Pearl Glynn. I had never heard of her, but Iknow her class as well as any man that lives. Taking out my pencil andpaper, I scratched the following epistle: "Dear Miss Glynn,--A humbleadorer begs you to accept the enclosed, and to grant him a moment'sinterview, before your turn." I slipped this into the envelope togetherwith the brooch I had bought at Streeters' for twenty guineas; Iaddressed it and beckoned to an usher. I gave it to him together with awink and half a sovereign. He returned in ten minutes and begged me tofollow him. I got up and glanced at my spy. He also got up, lookinghorribly uneasy. But I knew the theatre and he did not. I fancied Icould hear him gnash his teeth, in impotent rage, to see his quarryescaping under his nose. As I approached the wing door leading to thestage and dressing rooms with my conductor, I took care not to losesight of him. Oblivious of the comfort of those who obstructed him, hewas toilfully climbing over empty fauteuils, or squeezing his waybetween rows of people in my wake. I feel sure that many of his victimsthought him mad, but I heartily admired him for his energy andperseverance, and just before the door closed behind me, and upon him,I turned and kissed my hand to him in token of appreciation. I knewwell what he would do. Finding he could not pass the door, he wouldturn and rush out of the theatre to wait for me at the stage-door inthe other street. I stopped dead and addressed the usher.

  "My man," said I, "I have changed my mind. I'll go back."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Just as you like, sir," he replied.

  In fact, we immediately returned into the auditorium, and two minuteslater, I had traversed the promenade, descended the stairs, and wasrunning like a hare across Leicester Square; alone, alone!

  A cab took me to Bruton Street, and nine o'clock had barely struck whenI was once again plain Brown, Sir William Dagmar's discreet andfaithful valet.

  I have never been intoxicated in my life, but it is often wise toassume a virtue, though you have it not, as the old proverb advises.

  It seemed good to me to be drunk just then, and better still, thenearer I approached my master's house. As I mounted the steps I reeled.It cost me eighty seconds of painful effort to find the keyhole. I didnot, as it happens, use it even when found, for the door openedsuddenly, and I staggered forward into Sir Charles Venner's arms. I hadexpected him to confront me, nevertheless, it shocked me to find myexpectations realized, and to be convinced how tenaciously he had clungto his first suspicions. I picked myself up and stood before him, aswaying, blinking maudlin figure. With much circumstance and drunkengravity, I explained to him that I had buried my mother, and that tosteady my nerves I had taken afterwards a s
ingle glass of wine, whichmust surely have been drugged. Sir Charles treated me as tenderly asany woman could have done. He pretended to believe my story, and heprotested that the rascally landlord, who had drugged me, deservedrichly to be prosecuted. He guided me to my bed-room, and assisted meto bed. He then declared that he would prepare me a reviving draught,and taking a tumbler from my dressing-table, he dissolved with water acouple of tiny white pillules, which mixture he persuaded me to drink.I knew his purpose, of course. He wished to search me. But I was in nowise alarmed nor unwilling, for I had left everything I possessed atBruton Street, and my pockets contained only my keys, and half ahandful of loose silver. Saying to myself: "Morphia!" I swallowed thedraught, and even drained the glass. Within five minutes I was sleepinglike the dead, whereupon Sir Charles Venner searched to his heart'scontent, poor man.