I must confess that the discovery I had made behind St. Martin's church, and which I described at the end of the previous chapter, had proved too much for me. What possible reason could Mr. Bayley have for wanting to rid himself of me? Only the morning before he had been anxious to secure my services in the interests of his Company, and now here he was hiring a couple of ruffians to prevent me from doing my work, if not to take my life. When I reached my hotel again, and went to bed, I lay awake half the night endeavouring to arrive at an understanding of it; but, try how I would, I could not hit upon a satisfactory solution. Upon one thing, however, I had quite made up my mind. As soon as the City offices were open, I would call at that of the Santa Cruz Mining Company, and put a few questions to Mr. Bayley which I fancied that individual would find difficult and rather unpleasant to answer. This plan I carried out, and at ten o'clock I stood in the handsome outer office of the Company.
"I should be glad to see the managing director, if he could spare me a few moments," I said to the youth who waited upon me in answer to his question.
"He's engaged, sir, at present," the lad replied. "If you will take a seat, however, I don't fancy he will be very long."
I did as he directed, and in the interval amused myself by studying a large map of the Argentine Republic, which hung upon the wall. I had practically exhausted its capabilities when the door opened, and a tall, military-looking man emerged and passed out into the street.
"What name shall I say, sir?" inquired the clerk, as he descended from his high stool and approached me.
"Fairfax," I replied, giving him my card. "I think the manager will know my name."
The clerk disappeared to return a few moments later with the request that I would follow him. Preparing myself for what I fully expected would be a scene, I entered the director's sanctum. It was a handsome room, and was evidently used as a Boardroom as well as an office, for there was a long table in the middle, surrounded by at least a dozen chairs. At the furthest end a gentleman of venerable appearance was seated. He rose as I entered, and bowed to me.
"In what way can I be of service to you, Mr. Fairfax?" he inquired, after I had seated myself.
"I am afraid there has been a mistake," I answered, looking about me for Mr. Bayley. "I told the clerk that I desired to see the managing director."
"Youareseeing him," he returned with a smile, "for I am he."
"In that case I must have misunderstood the gentleman who called upon me two days ago," I replied, with some surprise.
"Do I understand you to say that a gentleman from this office called upon you?"
"Yes, a Mr. Bayley, a tall, good-looking man, of between thirty-eight and forty years of age."
The old gentleman stared, as well he might.
"But there is no Mr. Bayley here," he said. "We have no one of that name in our employ. I fear the man, whoever he was, must have been playing a trick upon you. I sincerely trust he has done no damage. Might I ask what he called upon you about?"
"He called on me on behalf of your Company," I answered. "He informed me that for some time past you have ascertained the gravest suspicions concerning the manager of your mines in the Argentine. He said that information had reached your ears to the effect that the man in question was in league with a notorious swindler in New York, and, though you could not bring any proved charge against him, you were equally certain that he was robbing you in order to fill his own pockets. He appeared to be most anxious to persuade me to go to the Republic at once in order that I might inquire into matters and report to you. I was to be away three months, and was to be paid five thousand pounds and my expenses for my trouble."
"My good sir, this is really preposterous," the old gentleman returned. "I can positively assure you that there is not a word of truth in his assertion. Our manager in the Argentine is an old and valued friend, and I would stake my life on his fidelity. Nothing would induce us to think even of sending a detective out to spy upon him."
"I am beginning to believe that I should like to meet Mr. Bayley again," I remarked. "He has a fine imagination, and, from what you tell me, it seems that I should have looked a fool had I gone out to South America on such an errand."
"It would have been exceedingly inconvenient not only for you, but also for us," said the manager. "I shall report this matter at the Board meeting to-day. We must endeavour to discover who this man is, and also his reasons for acting as he has done. Should we hear anything further upon the subject, we will at once communicate with you."
"I should be glad if you will do so," I replied. "I should like to get this matter cleared up as soon as possible. There may be something behind it that we do not understand."
I thanked him for the interview, and then took my departure, more puzzled by it than I had been by anything for a long time. When I reached my office I took the card from a drawer, which Mr. Edward Bayley had sent to me, and despatched it by special messenger to the office of the famous mining company. That afternoon another surprise was in store for me. Shortly after lunch, and when I was in the middle of a letter to Kitwater, a message was received through the telephone to the effect that the managing director of the Santa Cruz Mining Company, whom I had seen that morning, was on his way to call upon me.
"Something has evidently come to light," I reflected. "Perhaps the mystery surrounding Mr. Edward Bayley is about to be cleared up, for I must confess I do not like the look of it."
A quarter of an hour later the manager was ushered into my presence.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fairfax," he said. "I have come to ask you, if you will permit me, a few questions, and also to tell you that I think we have discovered who it is that is masquerading as the occupant of my position. You gave me this morning a rough description of the individual who called upon you, can you recall anything particular about his appearance. Any strange mark, for instance. Anything by which we should be able to swear to his identity?"
"I would swear to his identity anywhere, without a mark" I replied. "But since youdomention it, I remember that he had a small triangular scar upon his left cheek."
"Then it is the same man after all," said the manager. "That is certainly extraordinary. When our secretary spoke to me about him after you had left I had my doubts; now, however, they are quite removed. Why he should have called upon you in such a guise is a question I cannot for the life of me answer with any sort of satisfaction."
"Perhaps you will be a little more explicit," I said. "You have not told me yet how it is that you have been able to locate the gentleman in question. This morning you must remember you had no sort of remembrance of him."
"In that case you must forgive me," he replied. "As a matter of fact I was so much carried away by my excitement that I could think of nothing else. However, I have promised you the story, and you shall have it. Some years ago, eight or ten perhaps, we had a young man working for us in the Argentine as an overseer. He was in many respects a brilliant young fellow, and would doubtless have done well for himself in time, had he been able to go straight. Unfortunately, however, he did not do so. He went from bad to worse. At last he was caught in a flagrant piece of dishonesty, and was immediately discharged. When I tell you that that young man had a mark such as you described upon his cheek, you may be able to derive some idea of what follows."
"Might it not be a pure coincidence?" I replied.
"Not in this case, I fancy," he answered. "What makes me the more inclined to believe that it is the same individual, is the fact that our secretary met him in Leadenhall Street only a few days ago. He looked older, but had evidently prospered in the world. As a matter of fact, Warner described him as being irreproachably dressed, and turned out. I trust his good fortune was honestly come by; but I must own, from what I know of him, that I have my doubts."
"But what possible reason could this individual have for calling upon me, and why should he have made me such an offer as I have described to you?"
The director shook his head. The question was evidently beyond him.
"I can assign no sort of reason for it," he said, "unless he has some hope of being able to get you out of England for a time."
"I don't see how that could benefit him," I replied. "I am connected with no case in which he has any sort of interest."
"You never can tell," the old gentleman replied. "From what I know of him, Gideon Hayle was always----"
"Gideon what?" I cried, springing to my feet. "Did I understand you to say Gideon Hayle?"
"That's the name of the young man of whom I have been speaking to you," he replied. "But what makes you so excited."
"Because I can understand everything now." I declared. "Good heavens! what an idiot I have been not to have seen the connection before! Now I know why Gideon Hayle tried to lure me out of England with his magnificent offer. Now I see why he set these roughs upon me. It's all as plain as daylight!"
"I am afraid I do not quite understand," said my companion in his turn. "But it is quite evident to me that you know more of Hayle's past life than I do!"
"I should think I did," I replied. "By Jove, what a blackguard the man must be! He robbed his two partners of enormous wealth in China, left them in the hands of the Chinese to be tortured and maimed for life, and now that he knows that I am acting for them in order to recover their treasure, he endeavours to put me out of the way. But you've not done it yet, Mr. Hayle," I continued, bringing my fist down with a bang upon the table, "and what's more, clever as you may be, you are not likely to accomplish such an end. You'll discover that I can take very good care of myself, but before very long you'll find thatyouare being taken care of by somebody else."
"This is a strange affair indeed, Mr. Fairfax," said the manager, "and it is evident that I have been of some assistance to you. I need not say that I am very glad, the more so because it is evident that our Company is not involved in any system of fraud. I will not disguise from you that I had my fears that it was the beginning of trouble for us all."
"You may disabuse your mind of that once and for all," I answered. "If there is any trouble brewing it is for our friend, Mr. Hayle. That gentleman's reckoning is indeed likely to be a heavy one. I would not stand in his shoes for something."
There was a brief and somewhat uncomfortable pause.
"And now allow me to wish you a very good-afternoon," the old gentleman observed.
"Good-afternoon," I replied, "and many thanks for the service you have rendered me. It has helped me more than I can say."
"Pray don't mention it, my dear sir, don't mention it," replied the kindly old gentleman, as he moved towards the door. "I am very glad to have been useful to you."
When he had gone I sat down at my desk to think. I had had a good many surprises in my life, but I don't know that I had ever been more astonished than I was that afternoon. If only I had been aware of Hayle's identity when he had called upon me two mornings before, how simply everything might have been arranged! As a matter of fact I had been talking with the very man I had been paid to find, and, what was worse, had even terminated the interview myself. When I realized everything, I could have kicked myself for my stupidity. Why should I have suspected him, however? The very boldness of his scheme carried conviction with it! Certainly, Mr. Gideon Hayle was a foeman worthy of my steel, and I began to realize that, with such a man to deal with, the enterprise I had taken in hand was likely to prove a bigger affair than I had bargained for.
"Having failed in both his attempts to get me out of the way, his next move will be to leave England with as little delay as possible," I said to myself. "If only I knew in what part of London he was staying, I'd ransack it for him, if I had to visit every house in order to do so. As it is, he has a thousand different ways of escape, and unless luck favours me, I shall be unable to prevent him from taking his departure."
At that moment there was a tap at the door and my clerk entered the room.
"Mr. Kitwater and Mr. Codd to see you, sir."
"Show them in," I said, and a moment later the blind man and his companion were ushered into my presence.
Codd must have divined from the expression upon my face that I was not pleased to see them.
"You must forgive me for troubling you again so soon," said Kitwater, as he dropped into the chair I had placed for him, "but you can understand that we are really anxious about the affair. Your letter tells us that you discovered that Hayle was in London a short time since, and that he had realized upon some of the stones. Is it not possible for you to discover some trace of his whereabouts?"
"I have not been able to do that yet," I answered. "It will be of interest to you, however, to know that he called upon me here in this room, and occupied the chair you are now sitting in, three days ago."
Kitwater clutched the arm of the chair in question and his face went as white as his beard.
"In this room three days ago, and sitting in your presence," he cried. "Then you know where he is, and can take us to him?"
"I regret that such a thing is out of my power," I answered. "The man came into and left this room without being hindered by me."
Kitwater sprang to his feet with an oath that struck me as coming rather oddly from the lips of a missionary.
"I see it all. You are in league with him," he cried, his face suffused with passion. "You are siding with him against us. By God you are, and I'll have you punished for it. You hoodwinked us, you sold us. You've taken our money, and now you've gone over and are acting for the enemy."
I opened the drawer of my table and took out the envelope he had given me when he had called. For a reason of my own, I had not banked the note it contained.
"Excuse me, Mr. Kitwater," I said, speaking as calmly as I could, "but there seems to be a little misunderstanding. I have not sold you, and I have not gone over to the enemy. There is the money you gave me, and I will not charge you anything for the little trouble I have been put to. That should convince you of my integrity. Now perhaps you will leave my office, and let me wash my hands of the whole affair."
I noticed that little Codd placed his hand upon the other's arm. It travelled down until their hands met. I saw that the blind man was making an effort to recover his composure, and I felt sure that he regretted ever having lost it. A moment later Codd came across the room to my table, and, taking up a piece of paper, wrote upon it the following words—
"Kitwater is sorry, I am sure. Try to forgive him. Remember what he has suffered through Hayle."
The simplicity of the message touched me.
"Pray sit down a minute, Mr. Kitwater," I said, "and let me put myself right with you. It is only natural that you should get angry, if you think I have treated you as you said just now. However, that does not happen to be the case. I can assure you that had I known who Hayle was, I should have taken very good care that he did not leave this office until you had had an interview with him. Unfortunately, however, I was not aware of his identity. I have encountered some bold criminals in my time. But I do not know that I have ever had a more daring one than the man who treated you so badly."
I thereupon proceeded to give him a rough outline of Hayle's interview with myself, and his subsequent treatment of me. Both men listened with rapt attention.
"That is Hayle all over," said Kitwater when I had finished. "It is not his fault that you are not a dead man now. He will evade us if he possibly can. The story of the roughs you have just told us shows that he is aware that you are on the trail, and, if I know him at all, he will try the old dodge, and put running water between you and himself as soon as possible. As I said to you the other day, he knows the world as well as you know London, and, in spite of what people say, there are still plenty of places left in it where he can hide and we shall never find him. With the money he stole from us he can make himself as comfortable as he pleases wherever he may happen to be. To sum it all up, if he gets a week's start of us, we shall never set eyes on him again."
"If that is so we must endeavour to make sure that he does not get that start," I replied. "I will have the principal ports watched, and in the meantime will endeavour to find out where he has stowed himself away in London. You may rest assured of one thing, gentlemen, I took this matter up in the first place as an ordinary business speculation. I am now going on for that reason and another. Mr. Hayle tried a trick on me that I have never had attempted before, and for the future he is my enemy as well as yours. I hope I have set myself right with you now. You do not still believe that I am acting in collusion with him?"
"I do not," Kitwater answered vehemently. "And I most humbly apologize for having said what I did. It would have served me right if you had thrown the case up there and then, and I regard it as a proof of your good feeling towards us that you consent to continue your work upon it. To-day is Friday, is it not? Then perhaps by Sunday you may have something more definite to tell us."
"It is just possible, I may," I returned.
"In that case I am instructed by my niece to ask if you will give us the pleasure of your company at Bishopstowe on that day. After the toils of London, a day in the country will do you no harm, and needless to say we shall be most pleased to see you."
I remembered the girl's pretty face and the trim neat figure. I am not a lady's man, far from it, nevertheless I thought that I should like to renew my acquaintance with her.
"I shall be very pleased to accept Miss Kitwater's invitation, provided I have something of importance to communicate," I said. "Should I not be able to come, you will of course understand that my presence is required in London or elsewhere. My movements must of necessity be regulated by those of Mr. Hayle, and while I am attending to him I am not my own master."
Kitwater asked me one or two more questions about the disposal of the gems to the merchants in Hatton Garden, groaned as I describe the enthusiasm of the dealers, swore under his breath when he heard of Hayle's cunning in refusing to allow either his name or address to be known, and then rose and bade me good-bye.
During dinner that evening I had plenty to think about. The various events of the day had been so absorbing, and had followed so thick and fast upon each other, that I had little time to seriously digest them. As I ate my meal, and drank my modest pint of claret, I gave them my fullest consideration. As Kitwater had observed, there was no time to waste if we desired to lay our hands upon that slippery Mr. Hayle. Given the full machinery of the law, and its boundless resources to stop him, it is by no means an easy thing for a criminal to fly the country unobserved; but with me the case was different. I had only my own and the exertions of a few and trusted servants to rely upon, and it was therefore impossible for us to watch all the various backdoors leading out of England at once. When I had finished my dinner I strolled down the Strand as far as Charing Cross Station. Turner was to leave for St. Petersburg that night by the mail-train, and I had some instructions to give him before his departure. I found him in the act of attending to the labelling of his luggage, and, when he had seen it safely on the van, we strolled down the platform together. I warned him of the delicate nature of the operation he was about to undertake, and bade him use the greatest possible care that the man he was to watch did not become aware of his intentions. Directly he knew for certain that this man was about to leave Russia, he was to communicate with me by cypher, and with my representative in Berlin, and then follow him with all speed to that city himself. As I had good reason to know, he was a shrewd and intelligent fellow, and one who never forgot any instructions that might be given him. Knowing that he was a great votary of the Goddess Nicotine, I gave him a few cigars to smoke on the way to Dover.
"Write to me immediately you have seen your man," I said. "Remember me to Herr Schneider, and if you should see----"
I came to a sudden stop, for there, among the crowd, not three carriage-lengths away from me, a travelling-rug thrown over his shoulder, and carrying a small brown leather bag in his hand, stood Gideon Hayle. Unfortunately, he had already seen me, and almost before I realized what he was doing, he was making his way through the crowd in the direction of the main entrance. Without another word to Turner, I set off in pursuit, knowing that he was going to make his bolt, and that if I missed him now it would probably be my last chance of coming to grip with him. Never before had the platform seemed so crowded. An exasperating lady, with a lanky youth at her side, hindered my passage, porters with trucks piled with luggage barred the way just when I was getting along nicely; while, as I was about to make my way out into the courtyard, an idiotic Frenchman seized me by the arm and implored me to show him "ze office of ze money-changaire." I replied angrily that I did not know, and ran out into the portico, only to be in time to see Gideon Hayle take a seat in a hansom. He had evidently given his driver his instructions, for the man whipped up his horse, and went out of the yard at a speed which, at any other hour, would certainly have got him into trouble with the police. I called up another cab and jumped into it, promising the man a sovereign as I did so, if he would keep the other cab in sight, and find out for me its destination.
"Right ye are, sir," the cabman replied. "You jest leave that to me. I won't let him go out of my sight."
Then we, in our turn, left the yard of the station, and set off eastwards along the Strand in pursuit. Both cabmen were sharp fellows and evidently familiar with every twist and turn of their famous London. In my time I have had a good many curious drives in one part of the world and another, but I think that chase will always rank first. We travelled along the Strand, about a hundred yards behind the other vehicle, then turned up Southampton Street, through Covent Garden by way of Henrietta Street into Long Acre. After that I cannot pretend to have any idea of the direction we took. I know that we passed through Drury Lane, crossed High Holborn, to presently find ourselves somewhere at the back of Gray's Inn. The buildings of the Parcels' Post Depot marked another stage in our journey. But still the other cab did not show any sign of coming to a standstill. Leaving Mount Pleasant behind us, we entered that dingy labyrinth of streets lying on the other side of the Clerkenwell House of Detention. How much longer was the chase going to last? Then, to my delight, the other cab slackened its pace, and eventually pulled up before a small public-house. We were so close behind it that we narrowly escaped a collision. I sprang out, and ran to the other vehicle in order to stop Hayle before he could alight.
"Wot's up, guvner?" asked the cabman. "Don't go a worritting of yourself. There's nobody inside."
He was quite right,the cab was empty!
I flatter myself that I am a man who is not easily disconcerted, but for the second time that day I was completely taken aback. I had watched that cab so closely, had followed its progress so carefully, that it seemed impossible Hayle could have escaped from it. Yet there was the fact, apparent to all the world, that he had got away. I looked from the cab to the cabman and then at my own driver, who had descended from his perch and was standing beside me.
"Well, I wouldn't have believed it," I said aloud, when I had recovered somewhat my astonishment.
My own driver, who had doubtless begun to think that the sovereign I had promised him was in danger, was inclined to be somewhat bellicose. It appeared as if he were anxious to make a personal matter of it, and in proof of this he sternly demanded of his rival what he had done with his fare.
"You don't think I've ate him, do yer?" asked that worthy. "What's it got to do with me what a fare does? I set 'im down, same as I should do you, and now I am on my way 'ome. Look arter your own fare, and take him 'ome and put him ter bed, but don't yer a'come abotherin' me. I've done the best day's work I've ever 'ad in my life, and if so be the pair of yer like to come into the pub here, well, I don't know as I won't a stand yer both a two of Scotch cold. It looks as if 'twould kind a' cheer the guvner up a bit, seem' as how he's dis'pointed like. Come on now!"
It is one of my best principles, and to it I feel that I owe a considerable portion of my success, that I never allow my pride to stand in the way of my business. The most valuable information is not unfrequently picked up in the most unlikely places, and for this reason I followed my own Jehu and his rival into the public-house in question. The man was visibly elated by the good stroke of business he had done that night, and was inclined to be convivial.
" 'e was a proper sort of bloke," he said as we partook of our refreshment. " 'e give me a fiver, 'e did, an' I wishes as 'ow I could meet another like 'im every day."
"They do say as how one man's mutton is another man's poison," retorted my driver, who, in spite of the entertainment he was receiving, visibly regarded the other with disfavour. "If you'd a give us the tip, I'd 'ave 'ad my suvering. As it is I don't take it friendly like that you should a' bilked us."
"Yer can take it as yer darned well please," said the other, as he spoke placing his glass upside down on the counter, in order to prove beyond contradiction that it was empty. I immediately ordered a repetition, which was supplied. Thereupon the cabman continued—
"When I 'as a bit of business ter do yer must understand that I does it, and that no man can say as I doesn't. A gent gets into my keb and sez he, 'Drive me until I tell yer to stop, and go as fast as yer can,' sez he. 'Take every back street yer know of, and come out somewhere Hoxton way. I'm not partic'lar so long as I go fast, an' I don't git collared by the keb that's after us. If yer help me to give 'im the slip there's a five-poun' note for yer trouble.' Well, sez I to myself, this is a proper bit of busness and there and then I sets off as fast as the old 'orse cud take us. We turns up Southampton Street, and you turns up after us. As we was agoin' down 'enrietta Street I asked him to let me 'ave a look at his five-poun' note, for I didn't want no Bank of Fashion or any of that sort of truck shoved into me, you'll understand. 'You needn't be suspicious, Cabby,' sez he, 'I'll make it suverings, if you like, and half a one over for luck, if that will satisfy yer? 'When I told him it would, he give me two poun' ten in advance and away we went again. We weren't more than 'arf a mile away from here—thank ye, sir, I don't mind if I do, it's cold drivin'—well, as I was a sayin' we wasn't more than 'arf a mile away from here, when the gent he stands up and sez to me, 'Look here, Kebby, turn the next corner pretty sharp, and slow down at the first bye-street you come to. Then I'll jump out,' 'Right yer are, guvner,' sez I, and with that he 'ands me up the other two poun' ten and the extry half-suvering. I fobbed it and whipped up the old 'oss. Next moment we was around the corner, and a-drivin' as if we was a trying to ketch a train. Then we comes to a little side street, an' I slows down. Out 'e jumps and down he goes along a side street as if the devil was arter him. Then I drives on my way and pulls up 'ere. Bilked you were, guvner, and I don't mind sayin' so, but busness is busness, and five poun' ten ain't to be picked up every day. I guess the old woman will be all there when I get 'ome to-night."
"That's all very well, cabby," I said, "but it's just likely you want to add another sovereign to that five-pound ten. If you do I don't mind putting another in your way. I tell you that I want to catch the man I was after to-night. He's as big a thief as ever walked the earth, and if you will help me to put my hand upon him, you'll be doing a service, not only to me, but to the whole country at large."
"What is it you want me to do?" he asked suspiciously. "He treated me fair, and he'll take it mean of me if I help you to nab him."
"I don't want you to do anything but to drive me to the side street where you put him down. Then you can take your sovereign and be off home as quick as you like. Do you agree?"
He hesitated for a space in which a man could have counted twenty, and then set his glass upon the counter.
"I'll do it," he said. "I'll drive yer there, not for the suvering, but for the good of the country yer speaks about. Come on."
I gave my own man his money, and then followed the other out to his cab. He mounted to his box, not without some help, and we presently set off. Whether it was the effect of the refreshment he had imbibed, or whether it was mere elation of spirits I cannot say, the fact, however, remains that for the whole of the journey, which occupied ten or twelve minutes he howled vociferously. A more joyous cabman could scarcely have been discovered in all that part of London. At last he pulled his horse to a standstill, and descended from his seat.
"This 'ere's the place," he said, "and that's the street he bolted down. Yer can't mistake it. Now let's have a look at yer suvering, guvner, and then I'll be off home to bed, and it's about time too."
I paid him the sum I had promised him, and then made my way down the narrow street, in the direction Hayle had taken. It was not more than a couple of hundred yards long, and was hemmed in on either hand by squalid cottages. As if to emphasize the misery of the locality, and perhaps in a measure to account for it, at the further end I discovered a gin-palace, whose flaring lights illuminated the streets on either hand with brazen splendour. A small knot of loafers were clustered on the pavement outside the public, and these were exactly the men I wanted. Addressing myself to them I inquired how long they had been in their present position.
"Best part of an hour, guv'ner," said one of them, pushing his hands deep down into his pockets, and executing a sort of double shuffle as he spoke. "Ain't doin' any harm 'ere, I 'ope. We was 'opin' as 'ow a gent like yourself would come along in the course of the evening just to ask us if we was thirsty, and wot we'd take for to squench it."
"You shall have something to squench it, if you can answer the questions I am going to ask you," I replied. "Did either of you see a gentleman come down this street, running, about half-an-hour or so ago."
"Was he carrying a rug and a bag?" asked one of the men without hesitation.
"He was," I replied. "He is the man I want. Which way did he go when he left here?"
"He took Jim Boulter's cab," said another man, who had until a few moments before been leaning against the wall. "The Short 'Un was alookin' after it for 'im, and I heard him call Jimmy myself. He tossed the Short 'Un a bob, he did, when he got in. Such luck don't seem ever to come my way."
"Where is the Short 'Un, as you call him?" I inquired, thinking that it might be to my advantage to interview that gentleman.
"A-drinkin' of his bob in there," the man answered. "Where d'ye think ye'd be a-seein' 'im? Bearin' 'isself proud like a real torf, and at closen' time they'll be chuckin' 'im out into the gutter, and then 'is wife 'll come down, and they 'll fight, an' most like both of 'em 'll get jugged before they knows where they is, and come before the beak in the mornin'."
"Look here," I said, "if one of you will go in and induce the gentleman of whom you speak to come out here and talk to me, I would not mind treating the four of you to half-a-crown."
The words had scarcely left my lips before a deputation had entered the house in search of the gentleman in question. When they returned with him one glance was sufficient to show me that the Short 'Un was in a decidedly inebriated condition. His friends, however, deeming it possible that their chance of appreciating my liberality depended upon his condition being such as he could answer questions with some sort of intelligence, proceeded to shake and pummel him into something approaching sobriety. In one of his lucid intervals I inquired whether he felt equal to telling me in what direction the gentleman who had given him the shilling had ordered the cabman to drive him. He turned the question over and over in his mind, and then arrived at the conclusion that it was "some hotel close to Waterloo."
This was certainly vague, but it encouraged me to persevere.
"Think again," I said; "he must have given you some definite address."
"Now I do remember," said the man, "it seems to me it was Foxwell's Hotel, Waterloo Road. That's where it was, Foxwell's Hotel. Don't you know it?
"Foxwell's Hotel is a merry, merry place,When the jolly booze is flowin', flowin' free."
Now chorus, gen'men."
Having heard all I wanted to, I gave the poor wretches what I had promised them, and went in search of a cab. As good luck would have it I was able to discover one in the City Road, and in it I drove off in the direction of Waterloo. If Hayle were really going to stay the night at Foxwell's Hotel, then my labours had not been in vain, after all. But I had seen too much of that gentleman's character of late to put any trust in his statements, until I had verified them to my own satisfaction. I was not acquainted with Foxwell's Hotel, but after some little search I discovered it. It was by no means the sort of place a man of Hayle's wealth would be likely to patronize, but remembering that he had particular reasons for not beingen evidencejust at present, I could understand his reasons for choosing such a hostelry. I accordingly paid off my cabman and entered the bar. Taking the young lady I found there a little on one side, I inquired whether a gentleman had arrived within the last half-hour, carrying a bag and a heavy travelling-rug.
Much to my gratification she replied that such a gentleman had certainly arrived within the past half-hour, and was now at supper in the coffee-room. She inquired whether I would care to see him? I replied in the negative, stating that I would call next day and make myself known to him.
"We are old friends," I said, "and for that reason I should be glad if you would promise me that you will say nothing to him about my coming to-night."
Woman-like the idea pleased her, and she willingly gave the promise I asked.
"If you want to see him you'd better be here early," she said. "He told me when he booked his room, that he should be wanting to get away at about ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
"I'll be here well before that," I replied. "If all goes right, I shall call upon him between eight and nine o'clock."
Feeling sure that, after what I had said to her, she would say nothing to Hayle about my visit, I returned to my own hotel and retired to rest.
Next morning I was up betimes, had breakfasted, and was at Foxwell's Hotel before eight o'clock had struck. I proceeded straight to the bar, where I discovered my acquaintance of the previous evening, in curl papers, assiduously dusting shelves and counter. There was a fragrance of the last night's potations still hovering about the place, which had the dreary, tawdry appearance that was so different to the glamour of the previous night. I bade the girl good-morning, and then inquired whether she had seen anything of my friend. At first she did not appear to recognize me, but on doing so she volunteered to go off and make inquiries. She did so, to return a few moments later with the information that the gentleman "had rung for his boots, and would be down to breakfast in a few minutes."
"I wonder what you will have to say for yourself when you see me, Mr. Hayle," I muttered. "You will find that I am not to be so easily shaken off as you imagine."
I accordingly made my way to the dining-room, and seating myself at a table, ordered a cup of coffee and an egg. The London egg is not a favourite of mine, but I was prepared to eat a dozen of them if necessary, if by so doing I could remain in the room long enough to find myself face to face with Gideon Hayle. Several people put in an appearance and commenced their morning repast, but when a quarter of an hour had elapsed and the man I wanted had not presented himself, my patience became exhausted and I went in search of myhourieof the bar.
"My friend's a long time coming down," I said, "I hope he has not gone out to breakfast?"
"You must be mistaken," she answered. "I saw him come down-stairs nearly a quarter of an hour ago. He went into the dining-room, and I felt sure you must have seen him. If you will follow me I'll show him to you."
So saying she led the way along the dingy passage until she arrived at a green baize door with two glass panels. Here she stopped and scanned the dining-room. The boots, who had just come upstairs from the lower regions, assisted in the operation, and seemed to derive considerable satisfaction from it.
"There he is," said the girl, pointing to a table in the furthest corner of the room; "the tall man with the black moustache."
I looked and was consumed with disappointment. The individual I saw there was no more like Hayle than he was like the man in the moon.
"Do you mean to tell me that he is the man who arrived late last night in a cab, and whose luggage consisted of a small brown bag and a travelling rug?" I asked. "You've been having a game with me, young woman, and I should advise you to be careful. You don't realize who I am."
"Hoighty toity," she said, with a toss of her head that sent her curl-papers dancing. "If you're going to be nasty, I am going. You asked for the gentleman who came late last night with a bag, and there he is. If he's not the person you want, you mustn't blame me. I'm sure I'm not responsible for everybody's friends. Dear me, I hope not!"
The shock-headed boots had all this time been listening with the greatest interest. He and the barmaid, it appeared, had had a quarrel earlier in the morning, and in consequence were still far from being upon the best of terms.
"The cove as the gent wants, miss, must be 'im as came close upon eleven o'clock last night," he put in. "The toff with the bag and blanket. Why I carried his bag up to number forty-seven with my own 'ands, and you know it."
The girl was quite equal to the occasion.
"You'd better hold your tongue," she said. "If you don't you'll get into trouble."
"What for?" he inquired. "It's a free country, I 'ope. Nice sort of toff 'e was, forgot all about the boots, and me a-doin' 'is browns as slap-up as if 'e was a-goin' out to dinner with the Queen. But p'reaps he's left a 'arf-sovereign for me with you. It ain't likely. Oh no, of course it isn't likely he would. You wouldn't keep it carefully for me, would you? Oh no, in course not? What about that two bob the American gent give you?"
The girl did not wait to hear any more, but with a final toss of her head, disappeared into the bar.
"Now, look here, my friend," I said to the boots, "it is quite evident that you know more about this gentleman than that young lady does. Tell me all about him, and I'll make it worth your while."
"There ain't much to tell," he answered. "Leastways, nothin' particular. He was no end of a toff, great-coat with silk collar, neat browns, gloves, and a bowler 'at."
"Moustache?"
"Yes, and waxed. Got a sort of broad-arrow on his cheek, and looked at ye as if 'is eyes was gimlets, and he wanted to bore a hole through yer; called at seven, breakfast at half-past, 'am and eggs and two cups of corfee and a roll, all took up to 'im in 'is room. Ordered a cab to catch the nine o'clock express to Southampton. I puts 'im in with his bag and blanket, and says, 'Kindly remember the boots, sir,' and he says, 'I've done it,' I said I 'adn't 'ad it, and he told me to go to ------, well the place as isn't mentioned in perlite company. That's all I know about 'im."
He paused and shook his head in the direction of the bar, after which he observed that he knew all about it, and one or two other things beside.
I gave him a shilling for his information and then left the house. Once more I had missed Gideon Hayle by a few minutes, but I had received some information that might help me to find him again. Unfortunately, however, he was now well on his way to Southampton, and in a few hours might be out of England. My respect for that astute gentleman was increasing hourly, but it did not deter me, only made me the more resolved to beat him in the end. Making my way to Waterloo, I inquired when the next train left for Southampton. Finding that I had more than an hour and a half to wait, I telegraphed to the man I had sent to Southampton to watch the docks, and then took the electric railway to the city, and made my way to my office, where a pile of correspondence awaited me on my table. Calling my managing clerk to my assistance, I set to work to examine it. He opened the letters while I perused them and dictated the various replies. When he came to the fifth he uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"What is it?" I inquired. "Anything wrong?"
In reply he handed me a letter written on good note-paper, but without an address. It ran as follows—
"Mr. Gideon Hayle returns thanks for kind inquiries, and begs to inform Mr. Fairfax that he is leaving England to-day for Algiers."
"If he thinks he is going to bluff me with that sort of tale, he's very much mistaken," I said. "I happen to be aware of the fact that he left for Southampton by the nine o'clock train this morning. If I might hazard a guess as to where he was going, I should say that his destination is the Cape. But let him go where he will, I'll have him yet. In the meantime, send Williams to Charing Cross at once, Roberts to Victoria, and Dickson to St. Paul's. Furnish each with a description of the man they are to look after, be particular about the scar upon his left cheek, and if they see him, tell them that they are not to lose sight of him, happen what may. Let them telegraph should they discover anything definite, and then go in pursuit. In any case I shall return from Southampton to-night, and shall call here at once."
Half-an-hour later I arrived at Waterloo, took my ticket and boarded the train for Southampton. When I reached the port I was met at the station by my representative, who informed me that he had seen nothing of the man I had described, although he had carefully looked for him.
"We'll try the various shipping-offices first," I said. "I feel positively certain that he came down here by the nine o'clock train."
We drove from shipping-office to shipping-office, and made the most careful inquiries, but in every case without success. Once we thought we had discovered our man, only to find, after wasting a precious hour, that the clerk's description was altogether a wrong one, and that he resembled Hayle in no sort of way. We boarded the South African mail-boat, but he was not among her passengers; we overhauled the American liner, with an equally barren result. We paid cursory visits to the principal hotels, but could hear no tidings of him in any one of them. As a matter of fact, if the man had journeyed to Southampton, as I had every reason to suppose he had done, he must have disappeared into thin air when he got there. The whole affair was most bewildering, and I scarcely knew what to think of it. That the boots at the hotel had not been hoodwinking me I felt assured in my own mind. His anger against the man was too real to allow any doubt upon that point. At last, having exhausted all our resources, and not seeing what I could do further, I returned to my subordinate's lodgings, where it had been arranged that telegrams should be addressed to me. On my arrival there a yellow envelope was handed to me. I tore it open eagerly and withdrew the contents. It proved to be from Dickson, and had been sent off from Dover. I took my codebook from my pocket and translated the message upon the back of the telegraph-form. It ran as follows—
"Man with triangular scar upon left cheek, brown bag and travelling rug, boarded train at Herne Hill, went through to Dover, and has booked to Paris. Am following him according to instructions."
"Then he slipped me after all," I cried. "He must have gone on to Waterloo, crossed to Cannon Street, then on to London Bridge. The cunning scoundrel! He must have made up his mind that the biggest bluff he could play upon me was to tell the truth, and by Jove! he was not very far wrong. However, those laugh best who laugh last, and though he has had a very fair innings so far, we will see whether he can beat me in the end. I'll get back to Town now, run down to Bishopstowe to-morrow morning to report progress, and then be off to Paris after him on Monday."
At 8.45 that night I reached London. At the same moment Mr. Gideon Hayle was sitting down to a charming little dinner at the Café des Princes, and was smiling to himself as he thought of the success that had attended the trick he had played upon me.