Miss Ferriby's Clients

by Florence Warden

  Chapter 19

  The moment Box had turned the key on Miss Ferriby, thus imprisoning her and her victim Welton Keynes in the small drawing room, he retreated and joined the rest of the gang gathered under the wall of the house.

  There were by this time eight of them huddled together under the wall, listening to what they could catch of the conversation that was going on inside between Welton Keynes and Miss Ferriby.

  Cockett, with the maid who had warned Welton, the two sham detectives, Box and one other man, and two more women, both old and, by the look of their faces, seasoned in ill-doing, were all quiet, and evidently impressed with the consciousness that some crisis in their fate was approaching.

  Box, as he joined the rest, was the only one who looked perfectly free from care. Instead of anxiety, his face was full of anger and a sort of savage delight. The others threw at him warning looks and gestures, pointed up to the window which he now perceived to be slightly opened, and thus persuaded him to remain silent as they were.

  But for all their attentive listening, they could gather very little of what was passing within. The voices of Welton Keynes and Miss Ferriby could be heard indeed, but not many of the words they uttered, for the window was high, and the man and the woman were speaking in low voices and with caution.

  At last Box, tired of waiting to hear nothing of any importance, signed to his companion to follow him and retreated to a little distance, while they all one by one followed him.

  If Miss Ferriby was the leader of the gang, Box was certainly the second in command to whom they all naturally looked when she was away.

  He drew them all off, until they were far enough away from the house to be out of danger of being overheard by anyone inside. Then Box with an air of authority said, "I have something to tell you. You must all be prepared for a change in the command. You've all been looking to Miss Ferriby for orders, haven't you? Well, that's over. She's done with, done for. She must be given up by you, as I've given her up. Do you hear?"

  There was a dead silence, followed by murmurs in which the sobbing of one of the old women could be heard.

  Then the man Cockett spoke with some show of irritation. "I don't see that. It's for us to say, not you, that she's to be given up. All we know against her at present is that she won't have anything to do with you. That's not enough for us. She knows her business; she's got a head worth two of yours, and it's for us to say what we think."

  There were louder murmurs after this, and the man who had played the principal detective even approached Box in a menacing manner; but he was held back by the woman who had posed as Lady Mirfield's maid.

  "What has she done? Come now!" asked the man in a challenging tone.

  "She's lost her head over this confounded Keynes, and she's ready to throw over the whole lot of us for him," replied Box firmly.

  The rest had seen enough of what had been going on to know that there was some truth in this statement. All received it in moody silence. Even the sobbing old woman repressed her grief and listened eagerly for the next words.

  "I've been with her in the drawing room," went on Box, whose lowering looks and sullen tone betrayed that he felt a much stronger personal interest in the matter than the rest did. "And it was plain all the time that she was feeling as much for this fellow whom we'd got under lock and key, as ever she did before she found out he was trying to give us up."

  "She'll be all right when it comes to the scratch," said Cockett confidently. "Leave Miss Ferriby alone, and she'll be right enough in the long run."

  "I wish you wouldn't push things on so," said the maid in an anxious tone. "Why couldn't you let this fellow go? He's had his lesson, and he may be trusted to hold his tongue for the future."

  "And if you put him away," said the man who had posed as the second detective, "you'll have a lot of people after you, for he's got friends, you know. And then there's old Ospringe and a girl besides. You don't suppose they won't know where to look for him if he doesn't turn up?"

  "They may know where to look for him, but they won't know where to find him," replied Box grimly.

  "What can you do if Miss Ferriby won't let you touch him?"

  "If she won't, we must, that's all."

  "And if you interfere with him against her will, what have you got to expect yourself?" asked Cockett.

  Box frowned as he answered. "What has she got to expect, if she shows us plainly she doesn't care two pence for the lot of us, and that all she's bent on is saving this fellow, and going away with him. Remember we caught her out last night. Remember she was going away with him. And remember too, that if she had gone, and if she had taken her jewellery with her and her money, she'd have been taking what isn't hers any more than it's mine and yours, that she would have been robbing us all."

  There was another silence after this, and then he went on. "Her jewels are our capital that she works upon the people she tricks with, aren't they? She has a right to wear them, to bring in more money. But she had no right to run away with them."

  "Well, you don't know that she was going to," said the maid.

  "I'm pretty sure of it," retorted Box. "Anyhow, I don't mean to let her get off her plain duty, which is to help us to get rid of this fellow Keynes."

  "You're jealous," said the maid.

  Box frowned and affected to scoff. But the rest had a strong suspicion that the hunchback had made her influence so deeply felt, that Box felt more than mere professional jealousy in the matter of Welton Keynes and Miss Ferriby's favour.

  "What are you going to do then?" asked the man who had posed as the chief detective.

  Box answered evasively. "I've told her she must treat him as she treated young Browne."

  "And if she won't?"

  "Then I'll treat both as she treated Browne."

  "You'll let them both be found drowned?"

  Box nodded assent.

  "Nonsense," said Cockett sharply. "Miss Ferriby's never failed us yet, and she won't now. You, Box, must keep her up to the mark. If you don't find her doing her duty, why then you must just see she does it, that's all."

  And he signed to Box to return to the house. Sullenly, Box took the hint and went back to the long drawing room to keep watch on the two prisoners.

  There was a short silence among the rest. Then the one who had passed as the second detective said, "Box is right. She must be kept up to the mark. And he's the man to keep her up to it. Cockett, you and the Beggar had better go in and help Box if he wants help."

  "What for?" asked Cockett uneasily.

  The other man, however, preferred not to be too explicit. "You'll see," he said, as he nodded imperiously in the direction of the house.

  And the two men thus addressed, after a hurried consultation from which they excluded the women, went quickly and silently into the outer drawing room to watch with Box the result of the strange interview between the two persons whom Box had locked into the inner drawing room together.

  When Welton heard the key turned in the lock, and recognized the fact that there were two parties among his captors, he wondered with a sick feeling of horror and dismay whether they intended to murder him and Miss Ferriby together.

  Since his discovery that this room had evidently been used for similar purposes before, he had recognized that his imprisonment was but the preliminary step to some much more stringent punishment for his attempt to betray the gang to the police, and his hopes that they would be discovered in their evil purpose before it was successfully accomplished, had grown sensibly less.

  To find that the leader of the gang herself appeared to be included in his punishment for her desire to shield him, did not inspire him with any tenderness on her account, as he recognized full well that Miss Ferriby's tenderness was that of the tiger, and knew that his refusal to join her in the new life she proposed for herself, had filled her with resentment which was quite as much to be dreaded as that of her accomplices.

  The hunchback, on hearing the turning of the key,
uttered a strange little cry, and ran back towards the door. Then she listened, and heard the footsteps of Box retreating as she ascertained that she was indeed locked in with her intended victim.

  When she turned round and faced Welton again, her face had changed and the glare in her great grey eyes was that of a hunted beast.

  He waited for her to speak, but she seemed unable to do so. Panting, haggard, evidently understanding better than he did the fate which lay before them both, she faced the young man with an expression from which all trace of tenderness, of what she called love, had disappeared. She was fierce, savage, full of bitterness and rage.

  "It's you who have brought me to this!" she hissed out sharply, not in a loud voice, but with so much emphasis that he found his blood run cold as she spoke. "It's you, for whom I was ready to sacrifice so much, who have ruined me, killed me!"

  "I've done nothing, Miss Ferriby," said Welton, "except refuse to help you to run away from your own companions and accomplices."

  She uttered a low cry full of rage and dismay, and looked round, as if afraid that the gang might hear him. "If I wanted to run away, as you call it, wasn't it with the object of saving you, of making you rich, of taking you out of the wretched position of a dependent and making you happy?"

  "I don't think you were wholly unselfish, Miss Ferriby," said Welton. "But we needn't discuss that now. The point is to get out of this hole that we are both in, and I hope you are clever enough to do it."

  She looked round her with frightened eyes, like a child caught and threatened with well-merited punishment. "I can't," she whispered hoarsely. "I don't know what to do."

  "Surely you know how, by pretending to agree with what these people wish, to get us both set free?" he urged.

  As he spoke, he inadvertently approached the part of the floor which was covered by the leopard skin rug, and Miss Ferriby, seeing where he was coming to, instinctively thrust forth her hand and glancing at the floor, cried quickly, "Take care!"

  With a sick feeling of being unable to move without danger, Welton checked himself and remained where he was, between the ottoman under the window and the fireplace. Miss Ferriby turned away from him, and seating herself on a chair close to the door, put her ear to the keyhole and remained silent, motionless, without even raising her head to look at the young man, who on his side, finding that she had no answer to give to his persuasions at present, and not daring to move about much in a room which he felt to be full of unknown dangers, sat down in the armchair by the fire and waited, watching her, for some movement or word on her part.

  The silence had lasted a long time when she raised her head and said, "He's come back. I hear him."

  Again she bent her head to listen, but there was little to be heard for a long time, for Box, when he was joined by Cockett and the other man, remained quite silent, watching the door of the inner drawing room without a word.

  The other men presently grew restless, and appealed to Box to make an end of the suspense in which they were all living.

  "You'd better speak to her," suggested Cockett. "The fellow Keynes will be missed before this, and then we don't know what may happen. Our business here ought to be got over without more delay."

  "Right you are," said Box. "You two stay here in case I need you."

  They assented by gestures instead of words, and he suddenly turned the key in the lock of the iron door, and throwing it open, found the hunchback jumping onto his arms. She had been on the alert, and at the first sound had prepared to precipitate herself into the arms of her irritated and revolted lieutenant, Box.

  But the man repulsed her savagely, and holding her away from him with an iron grip, as he stood in the doorway with the other two men close behind, he said between his set teeth, "Why don't you do what you have to do? Do you want any help from us?"

  "No, no, no. Give me time, time," gasped the woman, with her eyes rolling, and drawing her breath with difficulty.

  "You chose to do it. You asked to do it," whispered Box in her ear.

  "Yes, yes. Why don't you give me time?"

  "You've had time. Now choose. Either swear you'll do it and have done with it, or let me come and do it instead of you."

  Miss Ferriby's eyes were glaring, her mouth was twisted each moment into a different strange shape, and she presented the appearance of a person about to have a fit. "If you have it done, we shall all suffer for it," she stammered. "He has friends, powerful friends."

  "And we have enemies, powerful enemies," retorted Box ferociously. "Come now. You, or I?"

  The woman struggled with herself, fought a desperate inward battle, and gradually grew comparatively calm. "I'll do it," she said at last hoarsely.

  His tone changed at once. "It's our only chance -- and yours," he whispered in her ear, as he let her go, and she staggered back into the little room.

  Welton meanwhile had not dared to move from the armchair by the fireside, for the doorway was blocked by these two struggling figures, and behind them, close behind, he saw those of Cockett and the other man. But he stealthily prepared himself for a tussle, and stooping, grasped the little brass poker with his right hand, while he measured with his eyes the distance to the window.

  But there was a space to be traversed before he could reach it, and although, when he was once more in his old position, clinging to the window ledge, he might be able to shout through the still open window for the help which he feared would be out of reach, he did not know what pitfalls there might be on the way.

  He had felt the loose boards under the leopard skin; he had heard Miss Ferriby's warning cry, "Take care"; and he had heard also that mysterious sound of water or human voices underneath.

  On the whole he decided to keep still and wait the result of the struggle between the man and the woman in the doorway, measuring the distance between him and them with his eye, and wondering whether he could reach them by one bound, and fight his way out.

  But the odds were tremendous: four against one. And he knew better than to suppose that Miss Ferriby's muscle, woman and hunchback though she was, was to be despised.

  The end of the short tussle between Box and Miss Ferriby came before Welton could try his luck against them. Suddenly he saw Miss Ferriby once more alone at the other end of the room and the door shut behind her.

  He stood up again. "Now," he said, "what are you going to do with me?"

  She did not immediately answer. But his suspicions about the floor and what there might be going on underneath it were again roused when he noted that after one glance at his face, Miss Ferriby's eyes were turned downwards, as if seeking some particular spot.

  Then she looked up, but did not meet his eyes. "Come here," she said, in a voice that was broken and harsh. As she spoke, he saw her right hand raised to her breast, and then lowered to her waist where the loose outer robe of embroidered silk which she was wearing was confined by a hanging girdle of jewelled leather.

  He did not move from where he stood, but watched her movement with a cautious eye.

  Suddenly she whipped out something which he felt rather than saw was a revolver. He made one spring across the floor to the place where she stood, and wrestling with her, wrenched the weapon out of her hand.

  Panting after the struggle, he instinctively stepped backwards, and a cry for "Help!" escaped his lips as, with a spasm of horror, he felt that the floor giving way under his feet.