Part IV.
THE WIDOW.
In the winter of 1833 I was hurriedly, and, as I at the time could nothelp thinking, precipitately despatched to Guernsey, one of the largestof the islands which dot the British Channel, in quest of a gentlemanof, till then, high character on the Stock Exchange, who, it wasalleged, had absconded with a very large sum of money intrusted to himfor investment by a baronet of considerable influence in officialquarters. From certain circumstances, it was surmised that Guernseywould be his first hiding-place, and I was obliged to post all the wayto Weymouth in order to save the mail packet, which left that place onthe Saturday evening, or night rather, with the Channel-Island mails.Mr. ---- had gone, it was conjectured, by way of Southampton. My search,promptly and zealously as I was aided by the Guernsey authorities,proving vain, I determined on going on to Jersey, when a letter arrivedby post informing me that the person of whom I was in pursuit had eithernot intended to defraud his client, or that his heart had failed him atthe threshold of crime. A few hours after I had left London he hadreappeared, it seems, in his counting-house, after having a few minutespreviously effected the investment of the money in accordance with hisclient's instructions, and was now, through his attorney, threateningthe accuser and all his aiders and abettors with the agreeable processesthat in England usually follow sharply at the heels of such rash andhasty proceedings.
My mission over, I proposed to retrace my steps immediately, butunfortunately found myself detained in the island for nearly a week bythe hurricane-weather which suddenly set in, rendering it impossible forthe mail or other steam-packets to cross the Channel during itscontinuance. Time limped slowly and heavily away; and frequently, in myimpatience to be gone, I walked down to the bleak pier, and strained myeyes in the direction in which the steamer from Jersey _should_ appear.Almost every time I did so I encountered two persons, who, I could see,were even more impatient to be gone than myself, and probably, Ithought, with much more reason. They were a widow lady, not certainlymore than thirty years of age, and her son, a fine curly-haired boy,about eight or nine years old, whose natural light-heartedness appearedto be checked, subdued, by the deep grief and sadness which trembled inhis mother's fine expressive eyes, and shrouded her pale but handsomeface. He held her by the hand; often clasping it with both his tinyones, and looking up to her as she turned despondingly away from thevacant roadstead and raging waters, with a half-frightened,half-wondering expression of anxious love, which would frequently causehis mother to bend down, and hurriedly strive to kiss away the sorrowfulalarm depicted in the child's face. These two beings strangelyinterested me; chiefly perhaps because, in my compelled idleness, I hadlittle else except the obstinate and angry weather to engage myattention or occupy my thoughts. There was an unmistakable air of'better days' about the widow--a grace of manner which her somewhatfaded and unseasonable raiment rendered but the more striking andapparent. Her countenance, one perceived at the first glance, was ofremarkable comeliness; and upon one occasion that I had an opportunityof observing it, I was satisfied that, under happier influences thannow appeared to overshadow her, those pale interesting features wouldlight up into beauty as brilliant as it was refined and intellectual.
This introduces another walking mystery, which, for want of somethingbetter to do, I was conjuring out of my fellow-watchers on the pier. Hewas a stoutish, strongly-set man of forty years of age, perhaps scarcelyso much, showily dressed in new glossy clothes; French-varnished boots,thin-soled enough, winter as it was, for a drawing-room; hat of thelatest _gent_ fashion; a variegated satin cravat, fastened by twoenormous-headed gold pins, connected with a chain; and a heavy goldchain fastened from his watch waistcoat-pocket over his neck. Thecomplexion of his face was a cadaverous white, liberally sprinkled andrelieved with gin and brandy blossoms, whilst the coarseness of his notoverly-clean hands was with singular taste set off and displayed by somehalf-dozen glittering rings. I felt a growing conviction, especially onnoticing a sudden change in the usual cunning, impudent, leeringexpression of his eyes, as he caught me looking at him with someearnestness, that I had somewhere had the honor of a previousintroduction to him. That he had not been, lately at all events, used tosuch resplendent habiliments as he now sported, was abundantly evidentfrom his numerous smirking self-surveys as he strutted jauntily along,and frequently stopping before shops that, having mirrors in theirwindows, afforded a more complete view of his charming person. Thiscreature I was convinced was in some way or other connected, or at anyrate acquainted, with the young and graceful widow. He was constantlydogging her steps; and I noticed with surprise, and some littleirritation, that his vulgar bow was faintly returned by the lady as theypassed each other; and that her recognition of him, slight and distantas it was, was not unfrequently accompanied by a blush, whether arisingfrom a pleasurable emotion or the reverse, I could not for some timedetermine. There is a mystery about blushes, I was, and am quite aware,not easily penetrable, more especially about those of widows. I was soonenlightened upon that point. One day, when she happened to be standingalone on the pier--her little boy was gazing through a telescope I hadborrowed of the landlord of the hotel where I lodged--he approached, andbefore she was well aware of his intention, took her hand, uttering atthe same time, it seemed, some words of compliment. It was then Iobserved her features literally flash with a vividness of expressionwhich revealed a beauty I had not before imagined she possessed. Thefellow absolutely recoiled before the concentrated scorn which flushedher pale features, and the indignant gesture with which she withdrew herhand from the contamination of his touch. As he turned confusedly andhastily away, his eyes encountered mine, and he muttered someunintelligible sentences, during which the widow and her son left thespot.
"The lady," said I, as soon as she was out of hearing, "seems in a cold,bitter humor this morning; not unlike the weather."
"Yes, Mr. "Wat---- I beg pardon, Mr. What's-your name, I would say?"
"Waters, as I perceive you know quite well. My recollection of you isnot so distinct. I have no remembrance of the fashionable clothes andbrilliant jewellery, none whatever; but the remarkable countenance I_have_ seen."
"I dare say you have, Waters," he replied, reassuming his insolent,swaggering air. "I practice at the Old Bailey; and I have several timesseen you there, not, as now, in the masquerade of a gentleman, but witha number on your collar."
I was silly enough to feel annoyed for a moment at the fellow's stupidsarcasm, and turned angrily away.
"There, don't fly into a passion," continued he with an exultingchuckle. "I have no wish to be ill friends with so smart a hand as youare. What do you say to a glass or two of wine, if only to keep thisconfounded wind out of our stomachs? It's cheap enough here."
I hesitated a few seconds, and then said, "I have no great objection;but first, whom have I the honor of addressing?"
"Mr. Gates. William Gates, _Esquire_, attorney-at-law."
"Gates! Not the Gates, I hope, in the late Bryant affair?"
"Well--yes; but allow me to say, Waters, that the observations of thejudge on that matter, and the consequent proceedings, were quiteunjustifiable; and I was strongly advised to petition the House on thesubject; but I forbore, perhaps unwisely."
"From consideration chiefly, I dare say, for the age and infirmities ofhis lordship, and his numerous family?"
"Come, come," rejoined Gates with a laugh; "don't poke fun in that way.The truth is, I get on quite as well without as with the certificate. Itransact business now for Mr. Everard Preston: you understand?"
"Perfectly. I now remember where I have seen you. But how is it yourdress has become so suddenly changed? A few weeks ago, it was nothinglike so magnificent?"
"True, my dear boy, true: quite right. I saw you observed that.First-rate, isn't it? Every article genuine. Bond and Regent Street, Iassure you," he added, scanning himself complacently over. I noddedapproval, and he went on--"You see I have had a windfall; a piece ofremarkable luck; and so I thought I would esca
pe out of the dingy,smoky village, and air myself for a few days in the Channel."
"A delightful time of the year for such a purpose truly. Rather say youcame to improve your acquaintance with the lady yonder, who, I dare say,will not prove ultimately inflexible?"
"Perhaps you are right--a little at least you may be, about the edges.But here we are; what do you take--port?"
"That as soon as anything else."
Mr. Gates was, as he said, constitutionally thirsty, and although it wasstill early in the day, drank with great relish and industry. As he grewflushed and rosy, and I therefore imagined communicative, I said, "Well,now, tell me who and what is that lady?"
The reply was a significant compound gesture, comprising a wink of hisleft eye and the tap of a fore-finger upon the right side of his nose. Iwaited, but the pantomimic action remained uninterpreted by words.
"Not rich apparently?"
"Poor as Job."
"An imprudent marriage probably?"
"Guess again, and I'll take odds you'll guess wrong; but suppose, asvariety is charming, we change the subject. What is your opinion now ofthe prospects of the ministry?"
I saw it was useless attempting to extract any information from socunning a rascal; and hastily excusing myself, I rose, and abruptly tookmy leave, more and more puzzled to account for the evident connection,in some way or other, of so fair and elegant a woman with a lowattorney, struck off the rolls for fraudulent misconduct, and now actingin the name of a person scarcely less disreputable than himself. Onemerging from the tavern, I found that the wind had not only sensiblyabated, but had become more favorable to the packet's leaving Jersey,and that early the next morning we might reasonably hope to embark forWeymouth. It turned out as we anticipated. The same boat which took meoff to the roads conveyed also the widow--Mrs. Grey, I saw by the cardson her modest luggage--and her son. Gates followed a few minutesafterwards, and we were soon on our stormy voyage homewards.
The passage was a very rough, unpleasant one, and I saw little of thepassengers in whom, in spite of myself, as it were, I continued to feelso strong an interest, till the steamer was moored alongside theWeymouth quay, and we stood together for a brief space, awaiting thescrutiny and questionings of the officers of the customs. I bowed adieuas I stepped from the paddle-box to the shore, and thought, withsomething of a feeling of regret, that in all probability I should neversee either of them again. I was mistaken, for on arriving early the nextmorning to take possession of the outside place booked for me by thecoach to London through Southampton, I found Mrs. Grey and her sonalready seated on the roof. Gates came hurriedly a few minutesafterwards, and ensconced himself snugly inside. The day was bitterlycold, and the widow and her somewhat delicate-looking boy were butpoorly clad for such inclement weather. The coachman and myself,however, contrived to force some rough, stout cloaks upon theiracceptance, which sufficed pretty well during the day; but as night cameon rainy and tempestuous, as well as dark and bleak, I felt that theymust be in some way or other got inside, where Gates was the onlypassenger. Yet so distant, so frigidly courteous was Mrs. Grey, that Iwas at a loss how to manage it. Gates, I saw, was enjoying himselfhugely to his own satisfaction. At every stage he swallowed a largeglass of brandy and water, and I observed that he cast more and moreaudaciously-triumphant glances towards Mrs. Grey. Once her eye, thoughstudiously I thought averted from him, caught his, and a deep blush, inwhich fear, timidity, and aversion seemed strangely mingled, swept overher face. What _could_ it mean? It was, however, useless to worry myselffurther with profitless conjectures, and I descended from the roof tohold a private parley with the coachman. A reasonable bargain was soonstruck: he went to Mrs. Grey and proposed to her, as there was plenty ofroom to spare, that she and her son should ride inside.
"It will make no difference in the fare," he added, "and it's bittercold out here for a lady."
"Thank you," replied the widow after a few moments' hesitation; "weshall do very well here."
I guessed the cause of her refusal, and hastened to add, "You hadbetter, I think, accept the coachman's proposal: the night-weather willbe dreadful, and even I, a man, must take refuge inside." She looked atme with a sort of grateful curiosity, and then accepted, with manythanks, the coachman's offer.
When we alighted at the Regent Circus, London, I looked anxiously butvainly round for some one in attendance to receive and greet the widowand her son. She did not seem to expect any one, but stood gazingvacantly, yet sadly, at the noisy, glaring, hurrying scene around her,her child's hand clasped in hers with an unconsciously tightening grasp,whilst her luggage was removed from the roof of the coach. Gates stoodnear, as if in expectation that his services must now, howeverunwillingly, be accepted by Mrs. Grey. I approached her, and saidsomewhat hurriedly, "If, as I apprehend, madam, you are a stranger inLondon, and consequently in need of temporary lodgings, you will, Ithink, do well to apply to the person whose address I have written onthis card. It is close by. He knows me, and on your mentioning my name,will treat you with every consideration. I am a police-officer; here ismy address; and any assistance in my power, shall, in any case," and Iglanced at Gates, "be freely rendered to you." I then hastened off, andmy wife an hour afterwards was even more anxious and interested for themysterious widow and her son than myself.
About six weeks had glided away, and the remembrance of myfellow-passengers from Guernsey was rapidly fading into indistinctness,when a visit from Roberts, to whose lodgings I had recommended Mrs.Grey, brought them once more painfully before me. That the widow waspoor I was not surprised to hear; but that a person so utterly destituteof resources and friends, as she appeared from Roberts' account to be,should have sought the huge wilderness of London, seemed marvellous. Herfew trinkets, and nearly all her scanty wardrobe, Roberts more thansuspected were at the pawnbroker's. The rent of the lodgings had notbeen paid for the last month, and he believed that for some time pastthey had not had a sufficiency of food, and were _now_ in a state ofliteral starvation! Still, she was cold and distant as ever, complainednot, though daily becoming paler, thinner, weaker.
"Does Gates the attorney visit her?" I asked.
"No--she would not see him, but letters from him are almost dailyreceived."
Roberts, who was a widower, wished my wife to see her: he was seriouslyapprehensive of some tragical result; and this, apart fromconsiderations of humanity, could not be permitted for his own sake tooccur in his house. I acquiesced; and Emily hurriedly equipped herself,and set off with Roberts to Sherrard Street, Haymarket.
On arriving at home, Roberts, to his own and my wife's astonishment,found Gates there in a state of exuberant satisfaction. He was waitingto pay any claim Roberts had upon Mrs. Grey, to whom, the ex-attorneyexultingly announced, he was to be married on the following Thursday!Roberts, scarcely believing his ears, hastened up to the first floor, toascertain if Mrs. Grey had really given authority to Gates to act forher. He tapped at the door, and a faint voice bidding him enter, he sawat once what had happened. Mrs. Grey, pale as marble, her eyes flashingwith almost insane excitement, was standing by a table, upon which alarge tray had been placed covered with soups, jellies, and otherdelicacies, evidently just brought in from a tavern, eagerly watchingher son partake of the first food he had tasted for two whole days!Roberts saw clearly how it was, and stammering a foolish excuse ofhaving tapped at the wrong door, hastened away. She had at lastdetermined to sacrifice herself to save her child's life! Emily, as sherelated what she had seen and heard, wept with passionate grief, and Iwas scarcely less excited: the union of Mrs. Grey with such a man seemedlike the profanation of a pure and holy shrine. Then Gates was, spite ofhis windfall, as he called it, essentially a needy man! Besides--andthis was the impenetrable mystery of the affair--what inducement, whatmotive could induce a mercenary wretch like Gates to unite himself inmarriage with poverty--with destitution? The notion of his beinginfluenced by sentiment of any kind was, I felt, absurd. The more Ireflected on the matter, the more convinced I
became that there was somevillainous scheme in process of accomplishment by Gates, and Idetermined to make at least one resolute effort to arrive at a solutionof the perplexing riddle. The next day, having a few hours to spare, thethought struck me that I would call on Mrs. Grey myself. I accordinglyproceeded towards her residence, and in Coventry Street happened to meetJackson, a brother officer, who, I was aware, from a few inquiries I hadpreviously made, knew something of Gates's past history and presentposition. After circumstantially relating the whole matter, I asked himif he could possibly guess what the fellow's object could be incontracting such a marriage?
"Object!" replied Jackson; "why, money of course: what else? He has bysome means become aware that the lady is entitled to property, and he isscheming to get possession of it as her husband."
"My own conviction! Yet the difficulty of getting at any proof seemsinsurmountable."
"Just so. And, by the way, Gates is certainly in high feather just now,however acquired. Not only himself, but Rivers his cad, clerk he callshimself, has cast his old greasy skin, and appears quite spruce andshining. And--now I remember--what did you say was the lady's name?"
"Grey."
"Grey! Ah, then I suppose it can have nothing to do with it! It was aperson of the name of Welton or Skelton that called on us a month or twoago about Gates."
"What was the nature of the communication?"
"I can hardly tell you: the charge was so loosely made, and hurriedlywithdrawn. Skelton--yes, it _was_ Skelton--he resides in pretty goodstyle at Knightsbridge--called and said that Gates had stolen a chequeor draft for five hundred pounds, and other articles sent through him tosome house in the city, of which I think he said the principal was dead.He was advised to apply through a solicitor to a magistrate, and wentaway, we supposed, for that purpose; but about three hours afterwardshe returned, and in a hurried, flurried sort of way said he had beenmistaken, and that he withdrew every charge he had made against Mr.Gates."
"Very odd."
"Yes; but I don't see how it can be in any way connected with this Mrs.Grey's affairs. Still, do you think it would be of any use to soundRivers? I know the fellow well, and where I should be pretty sure tofind him this evening."
It was arranged he should do so, and I proceeded on to Sherrard Street.Mrs. Grey was alone in the front apartment of the ground-floor, andreceived me with much politeness. She had, I saw, been weeping; her eyeswere swollen and bloodshot; and she was deadly pale; but I looked invain for any indication of that utter desolation which a woman like her,condemned to such a sacrifice, might naturally be supposed to feel. Ifelt greatly embarrassed as to how to begin; but at length I plungedboldly into the matter; assured her she was cruelly deceived by Gates,who was in no condition to provide for her and her son in even tolerablecomfort; and that I was convinced he had no other than a mercenary anddetestable motive in seeking marriage with her. Mrs. Grey heard me in sototally unmoved a manner, and the feeling that I was really meddlingwith things that did not at all concern me, grew upon me so rapidly, asI spoke to that unanswering countenance, that by the time I had finishedmy eloquent harangue, I was in a perfect fever of embarrassment andconfusion, and very heartily wished myself out of the place. To myfurther bewilderment, Mrs. Grey, when I had quite concluded, informedme--in consideration, she said, of the courtesies I had shewn her whenwe were fellow-travelers--that she was perfectly aware Mr. Gates' motivein marrying her was purely a mercenary one; and her own in consentingto the union, except as regarded her son, was, she admitted, scarcelybetter. She added--riddle upon riddles!--that she knew also that Mr.Gates was very poor--insolvent, she understood. I rose mechanically tomy feet, with a confused notion swimming in my head that both of us atall events could not be in our right senses. This feeling must have beenvisible upon my face; for Mrs. Grey added with a half-smile, "You cannotreconcile these apparent contradictions; be patient; you will perfectlycomprehend them before long. But as I wish not to stand too low in yourestimation, I must tell you that Mr. Gates is to subscribe a writtenagreement that we separate the instant the ceremony has been performed.But for that undertaking, I would have suffered any extremity, deathitself, rather than have consented to marry him!"
Still confused, stunned, as it were, by what I had heard, my hand was onthe handle of the door to let myself out, when a thought arose in mymind. "Is it possible, Mrs. Grey," I said, "that you can have beendeceived into a belief that such a promise, however formally set down,is of the slightest legal value?--that the law recognises, or wouldenforce, an instrument to render nugatory the solemn obligation youwill, after signing it, make, 'to love, honor, obey, and cherish yourhusband?'" I had found the right chord at last. Mrs. Grey, as I spoke,became deadly pale; and had she not caught at one of the heavy chairs,she would have been unable to support herself.
"Do I understand you to say," she faintly and brokenly gasped, "thatsuch an agreement as I have indicated, duly sealed and witnessed, couldnot be summarily enforced by a magistrate?"
"Certainly it could not, my dear madam, and well Gates knows it to beso; and I am greatly mistaken in the man, if, once the irrevocableceremony over, he would not be the first to deride your credulity."
"If that be so," exclaimed the unfortunate lady with passionate despair,"I am indeed ruined--lost! Oh my darling boy, would that you and I weresleeping in your father's quiet grave!"
"Say not so," I exclaimed with emotion, for I was afflicted by herdistress. "Honor me with your confidence, and all may yet be well."
After much entreaty, she despairingly complied. The substance of herstory, which was broken by frequent outbursts of grief and lamentation,was as follows:--She was the only child of a London merchant--Mr. Waltonwe will call him--who had lived beyond his means, and failed ruinouslyto an immense amount. His spirits and health were broken by this event,which he survived only a few months. It happened that about the time ofthe bankruptcy she had become acquainted with Mr. John Grey, the onlyson of an eminent East India merchant, but a man of penuriousdisposition and habits.
"Mr. Ezekiel Grey?"
The same. They became attached to each other, deeply so; and knowingthat to solicit the elder Grey's consent to their union would betantamount to a sentence of immediate separation and estrangement, theyunwisely, thoughtlessly, married, about ten months after Mr. Walton'sdeath, without the elder Grey's knowledge. Gates, an attorney, then inapparently fair circumstances, with whom young Mr. Grey had becomeacquainted, and Anne Crawford, Maria Walton's servant, were thewitnesses of the ceremony, which, after due publication of banns, wascelebrated in St. Giles's Church. The young couple, after the marriage,lived in the strictest privacy, the wife meagrely supported by thepocket-money allowance of Mr. Ezekiel Grey to his son. Thus painfullyelapsed nine years of life, when, about twelve months previous to thepresent time, Mr. Grey determined to send his son to Bombay, in order tothe arrangement of some complicated claims on a house of agency there.It was decided that, during her husband's absence, Mrs. John Grey shouldreside in Guernsey, partly with a view to economy, and partly for thechange of air, which it was said their son required--Mr. Gates to be themedium through which money and letters were to reach the wife. Mr.Ezekiel Grey died somewhat suddenly about four months after his son'sdeparture from England, and Mrs. Grey had been in momentary expectationof the arrival of her husband, when Gates came to Guernsey, andannounced his death at Bombay, just as he was preparing for the voyageto England! The manner of Gates was strange and insolent; and he plainlyintimated that without his assistance both herself and child would bebeggars; and that assistance he audaciously declared he would onlyafford at the price of marriage! Mrs. Grey, overwhelmed with grief forthe loss of a husband by whom she had been as constantly as tenderlybeloved, and dizzy with ill-defined apprehension, started at once forLondon. A copy of the will of Mr. Ezekiel Grey had been procured, bywhich in effect he devised all his estate, real and personal, to hisson; but in the event of Mr. John Grey dying unmarried, or withoutlawful issue, it went to his wife's ne
phew Mr. Skelton----
"Skelton of Knightsbridge?"
Yes: in case of Mr. John Grey marrying, Skelton was to be paid animmediate legacy of five thousand pounds. So far, then, us fortune went,the widow and her son seemed amply provided for. So Mrs. Grey thoughttill she had another interview with Gates, who unblushingly told herthat unless she consented to marry him, he would not prove, though hehad abundant means of doing so, that the person she had married at St.Giles's Church was the son of Ezekiel Grey, the eminent merchant! "Thename," said the scoundrel, "will not help you; there are plenty of JohnGreys on that register; and as for Anne Crawford, she has been longsince dead." Mrs. Grey next called on Mr. Skelton, and was turned out ofthe house as an impostor; and finally, having parted with everythingupon which she could raise money, and Gates reiterating his offer, ordemand rather, accompanied by the proposal of an immediate separation,she had consented.
"Courage, madam!" I exclaimed at the end of her narrative, of which theabove is the substance, and I spoke in a tone of joyous confidence,which, more than my words, reassured her: "I already see glimpses ofdaylight through this maze of villainy. Gates has played a desperategame certainly, but one which we shall, you may rely on it, easilybaffle." A knock at the door interrupted me. I peered through the blind,and saw that it was Gates: "Silence--secrecy!" I emphatically urged in alow voice, and with my finger on my lip, and left the room before thestreet-door could be answered; and by my friend Roberts' contrivance, Iwas in a few minutes afterwards in the street, all the time unobservedby the intruder.
The next day early Jackson called on me. He had seen Rivers, but heseemed to know nothing, except, indeed, that it was quite true Gates hadreceived a five-hundred pound draft from a house in India, which he,Rivers, had got notes for at the Bank of England. There were also in thesame parcel a gold watch, he knew, and some jewelry, but from whom itall came, he, Rivers, was ignorant. Nothing but that had Jackson beenable to discover.
"Call you that nothing?" said I, starting up, and hastily swallowing mylast cup of coffee. "It is enough, at all events, to transport WilliamGates, Esquire!"
I had to wait that morning on especial business on the commissioner; andafter the business upon which I had been summoned had been despatched, Irelated the case of Grey _versus_ Gates as clearly and succinctly as Icould. He listened with great attention, and in about a quarter of anhour I left him with as clear and unmistakable a path before me as itwas possible to desire. I was passing down the stairs when I wasresummoned.
"You quite understand, Waters, that Skelton is not for a moment to belost sight of till his deposition has been taken?"
"Certainly, sir."
"That will do then."
Arrived at home, I despatched my wife in a cab for Mrs. Grey. She soonarrived, and as much as was necessary of our plan I confided to her. Mr.Gates had pressed her earnestly that the ceremony should take place onthe following morning. By my directions she now wrote, although hertrembling fingers made an almost unintelligible scrawl of it, that as it_was_ to be, she agreed to his proposition, and should expect him atnine o'clock.
Two hours afterwards, Jackson and I, having previously watched thegentleman home, knocked at Mr. Skelton's house, Knightsbridge, andrequested to see him. At the very moment, he came out of a side-room,and was proceeding up stairs.
"Mr. Skelton," said I, stepping forward, "I must have a privateinterview with you!" He was in an instant as pale as a corpse, andshaking like an aspen--such miserable cowards does an evil consciencemake men--and totteringly led the way, without speaking, to a smalllibrary.
"You know me, Mr. Skelton, and doubtless guess the meaning of myerrand?"
He stammered out a denial, which his trembling accents and ashycountenance emphatically denied.
"You and Gates of the Minories are engaged in a felonious conspiracy todeprive Mrs. Grey and her infant son of their property and inheritance!"
Had he been struck by a cannon-shot, he could not have fallen moresuddenly and helplessly upon the couch close to which he was standing.
"My God!" he exclaimed, "what is this?"
Perceiving he was quite sufficiently frightened, I said, "There is nowish on Mrs. Grey's part to treat you harshly, so that you aid us inconvicting Gates. For this purpose, you must at once give the numbers ofthe notes Gates obtained for the cheque, and also the letter in whichthe agent at Bombay announced its transmission through Gates."
"Yes--yes!" he stammered, rising, and going to a secretaire. "There isthe letter."
I glanced over it. "I am glad to find," I said, "that you did not knowby this letter that the money and other articles here enumerated hadbeen sent by the dying husband to his wife through Gates."
"I most solemnly assure you I did not!" he eagerly replied,'until--until"----
"Mr. Gates informed you of it, and seduced you to conspire with him. Hehas been playing a double game. Whilst amusing you, he purposes marryingMrs. Grey to-morrow morning!"
"Is it possible? But I suspected"----
"No doubt. In the meantime, you will, if you please, accompany us. Thereis every desire to spare you," I added, perceiving him hesitate; "butour orders are peremptory." With a very ill grace Mr. Skelton complied,and we were rapidly driven off.
The next morning Jackson, Skelton, and myself, were in Sherrard Streetbefore daybreak. Mrs. Grey was already up and at eight o'clock we satdown with her and her son to an excellent breakfast. She was charminglydressed in the wedding garments which Gates had purchased with herstolen money, and I almost felt it in my heart to pity the unfortunatebridegroom, rascal as he was, about to be suddenly disappointed of sucha bride and such a fortune! It was very necessary that she should be soarrayed, for, as we had thought quite probable, Rivers called a fewminutes past eight with a present of jewelry, and the bride's appearancemust have completely disarmed any suspicion which his master might haveentertained.
Breakfast was over: Mrs. Grey, with her son, was seated on a couch inthe front room, and we were lying _perdu_ in the next apartment,separated only by folding-doors, when a coach drew up before the house;a bridegroom's impatient summons thundered at the door; and presentlyforth stepped Mr. Gates, resplendently attired, followed by his manRivers, who was, it appeared, to give the bride away. Mr. Gates enteredthe presence of beautiful Mrs. Grey in immense triumph. He approachedher with the profoundest gallantry; and was about to speak, when Jacksonand I, who had been sedulously watching through the chink of theslightly-opened doors, advanced into the room, followed by Mr. Skelton.His attitude of terror and surprise was one of the most naturalperformances I ever witnessed. He turned instinctively as if to flee.My grasp was in an instant on his collar.
"The game is up, my good Mr. Gates: I arrest you for felony!"
"Felony!"
"Ay, truly. For stealing a gold watch, diamond pin, and a cheque forfive hundred pounds, sent through you to this lady."
All his insolent swagger vanished in an instant, and the abjectscoundrel threw himself at Mrs. Grey's feet, and absolutely howled formercy.
"I will do anything," he gaspingly protested; "anything you require, sothat you will save me from these men!"
"Where is Crawford?" I asked, desirous of taking immediate, but not, Ihope, unfair advantage of the rascal's terror; "she who witnessed thislady's marriage?"
"At Leamington, Warwickshire," he replied.
"Very good. Now, Mrs. Grey, if you will leave us, I shall be obliged. Wemust search this gentleman, and perhaps"----. She vanished in aninstant: her gentleness of disposition was, I saw, rapidly mastering allresentment. I carried the watch we took out of Gates's pocket to her,and she instantly recognised it to be her husband's. A fifty and atwenty-pound bank-note, corresponding to the numbers on our list, weextricated from the disappointed bridegroom's pocket-book. "And now,sir, if you please," said I, "we will adjourn to your lodgings." Asavage scowl was his only reply, not at all discomposing to me, and wewere soon busy ransacking his hidden hoards. We found several otherarticles sent b
y Mr. John Grey to his wife, and three letters to her,which, as corroborative evidence, would leave no doubt as to _who_ herhusband was. Our next visit was to a police court, where Mr. WilliamGates was fully committed for trial. He was in due time convicted ofstealing the watch, and sentenced to transportation for seven years.
Mrs. Grey's marriage, and her son's consequent succession to thedeceased merchant's wealth, were not disputed. She has never remarried,and lives now in beneficent affluence in one of the new squares beyondthe Edgeware Road with her son, who though now six-and-twenty years ofage, or thereabouts, is still unappropriated; but "the good time iscoming," so at least hinted a few days ago the fashionable "MorningPost."
Recollections of a Policeman Page 4