Miss or Mrs.?

by Wilkie Collins

  TENTH SCENE.

  Green Anchor Lane.

  An hour later than the time at which he had been expected, RichardTurlington appeared at his office in the city.

  He met beforehand all the inquiries which the marked change in himmust otherwise have provoked, by announcing that he was ill. Before heproceeded to business, he asked if anybody was waiting to see him. Oneof the servants from Muswell Hill was waiting with another parcelfor Miss Lavinia, ordered by telegram from the country that morning.Turlington (after ascertaining the servant's name) received the man inhis private room. He there heard, for the first time, that LauncelotLinzie had been lurking in the grounds (exactly as he had supposed) onthe day when the lawyer took his instructions for the Settlement and theWill.

  In two hours more Turlington's work was completed. On leaving theoffice--as soon as he was out of sight of the door--he turned eastward,instead of taking the way that led to his own house in town. Pursuinghis course, he entered the labyrinth of streets which led, in thatquarter of East London, to the unsavory neighborhood of the river-side.

  By this time his mind was made up. The forecast shadow of meditatedcrime traveled before him already, as he threaded his way among hisfellow-men.

  He had been to the vestry of St. Columb Major, and had satisfied himselfthat he was misled by no false report. There was the entry in theMarriage Register. The one unexplained mystery was the mystery ofLaunce's conduct in permitting his wife to return to her father's house.Utterly unable to account for this proceeding, Turlington could onlyaccept facts as they were, and determine to make the most of his time,while the woman who had deceived him was still under his roof. A hideousexpression crossed his face as he realized the idea that he had got her(unprotected by her husband) in his house. "When Launcelot Linzie _does_come to claim her," he said to himself, "he shall find I have been evenwith him." He looked at his watch. Was it possible to save the lasttrain and get back that night? No--the last train had gone. Would shetake advantage of his absence to escape? He had little fear of it. Shewould never have allowed her aunt to send him to Lord Winwood's house,if she had felt the slightest suspicion of his discovering the truth inthat quarter. Returning by the first train the next morning, he mightfeel sure of getting back in time. Meanwhile he had the hours of thenight before him. He could give his mind to the serious question thatmust be settled before he left London--the question of repaying theforty thousand pounds. There was but one way of getting the money now.Sir Joseph had executed his Will; Sir Joseph's death would leave hissole executor and trustee (the lawyer had said it!) master of hisfortune. Turlington determined to be master of it in four-and-twentyhours--striking the blow, without risk to himself, by means of anotherhand. In the face of the probabilities, in the face of the facts, he hadnow firmly persuaded himself that Sir Joseph was privy to the fraudthat had been practiced on him. The Marriage-Settlement, the Will, thepresence of the family at his country house--all these he believed to beso many stratagems invented to keep him deceived until the last moment.The truth was in those words which he had overheard between Sir Josephand Launce--and in Launce's presence (privately encouraged, no doubt) atMuswell Hill. "Her father shall pay me for it doubly: with his purse andwith his life." With that thought in his heart, Richard Turlington woundhis way through the streets by the river-side, and stopped at a blindalley called Green Anchor Lane, infamous to this day as the chosenresort of the most abandoned wretches whom London can produce.

  The policeman at the corner cautioned him as he turned into the alley."They won't hurt _me!_" he answered, and walked on to a public-house atthe bottom of the lane.

  The landlord at the door silently recognized him, and led the wayin. They crossed a room filled with sailors of all nations drinking;ascended a staircase at the back of the house, and stopped at the doorof the room on the second floor. There the landlord spoke for the firsttime. "He has outrun his allowance, sir, as usual. You will find himwith hardly a rag on his back. I doubt if he will last much longer. Hehad another fit of the horrors last night, and the doctor thinks badlyof him." With that introduction he opened the door, and Turlingtonentered the room.

  On the miserable bed lay a gray-headed old man of gigantic stature,with nothing on him but a ragged shirt and a pair of patched, filthytrousers. At the side of the bed, with a bottle of gin on the ricketytable between them, sat two hideous leering, painted monsters, wearingthe dress of women. The smell of opium was in the room, as well as thesmell of spirits. At Turlington's appearance, the old man rose on thebed and welcomed him with greedy eyes and outstretched hand.

  "Money, master!" he called out hoarsely. "A crown piece in advance, forthe sake of old times!"

  Turlington turned to the women without answering, purse in hand.

  "His clothes are at the pawnbroker's, of course. How much?"

  "Thirty shillings."

  "Bring them here, and be quick about it. You will find it worth yourwhile when you come back."

  The women took the pawnbroker's tickets from the pockets of the man'strousers and hurried out.

  Turlington closed the door, and seated himself by the bedside. He laidhis hand familiarly on the giant's mighty shoulder, looked him full inthe face, and said, in a whisper,

  "Thomas Wildfang!"

  The man started, and drew his huge hairy hand across his eyes, as if indoubt whether he was waking or sleeping. "It's better than ten years,master, since you called me by my name. If I am Thomas Wildfang, whatare you?"

  "Your captain, once more."

  Thomas Wildfang sat up on the side of the bed, and spoke his next wordscautiously in Turlington's ear.

  "Another man in the way?"

  "Yes."

  The giant shook his bald, bestial head dolefully. "Too late. I'm pastthe job. Look here."

  He held up his hand, and showed it trembling incessantly. "I'm an oldman," he said, and let his hand drop heavily again on the bed besidehim.

  Turlington looked at the door, and whispered back,

  "The man is as old as you are. And the money is worth having."

  "How much?"

  "A hundred pounds."

  The eyes of Thomas Wildfang fastened greedily on Turlington's face."Let's hear," he said. "Softly, captain. Let's hear."

  * * * * * * * * *

  When the women came back with the clothes, Turlington had left the room.Their promised reward lay waiting for them on the table, and ThomasWildfang was eager to dress himself and be gone. They could get but oneanswer from him to every question they put. He had business in hand,which was not to be delayed. They would see him again in a day or two,with money in his purse. With that assurance he took his cudgel fromthe corner of the room, and stalked out swiftly by the back door of thehouse into the night.