Four people looking out of a window"HEY! BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT HOLE IN THE WINDOW?"(p. 135.)
(p. 135.)
"Excuse me a minute, Marion," said Mr. Pilgrim. Then to his secretary, "You said you were readin' that blamed Bunyan MS. the night before last. Just describe when you got it out, and what followed."
"I'd finished my transcript of your notes on Miss Brontë, sir, about 11.30, and, having half an hour to spare, I thought I'd just run over that old manuscript again. John Bunyan had his own notions about caligraphy, and he was a bit freer in his spelling than any man I'd come across, so I rather fancied him. While I was reading, you may remember calling me to your room to take down that cable to Boston and the letter of confirmation. It was 12.30 when I left you, and I'd clean forgotten about the manuscript. I turned the light out, and went to bed. A quarter of an hour afterwards I remembered I'd left Bunyan out, so I came back here. I couldn't find the matches, but just felt round for the MS., and put it back in the drawer, and locked it."
"You derned hayseed!" burst in Mr. Pilgrim. "You have your p'ints, but at this pertic'ler moment I think you're moresuited for raisin' cabbages than for secretary work. If you can't tell the difference in the handle of a Bunyan MS. and your notes on Charlotte Brontë in the dark, you might know a banana from a potato in daylight. You're—you're—— Man, you put the Brontë notes in the drawer, and left Bunyan out—brushed him on the floor in the dark, an' the help lit the fire with him. Gor!"
The secretary collapsed.
"Never mind, Mr. Tullitt," said Miss Pilgrim. "It was entirely a mistake. I might have done it myself. It comes of working so late. Dad, I guess there's plenty more old manuscripts in the British Isles waiting for dollars to fetch them."
"I reckon there's only one Bunyan MS.," said Mr. Pilgrim, solemnly, "and that's gone to light Hydropathic fires because my secretary doesn't carry wax vestas in his pyjamas. Hey! But what about that hole in the window?"
Mr. and Miss Pilgrim, the secretary, and Lord Roker stared blankly at it.
And that is why Lord Roker was not able to show the Bunyan MS. at the next meeting of the Burglars' Club.
THE GREAT SEAL.
TheHon. Richard Hilton stared at the type-written letter with distinct feelings of pleasure. This is what he read:—
Sir,—I have the honour to inform you of your election as a member of the Club, conditional upon your attendance on the 5th proximo with the Great Seal of the United Kingdom, procured in the usual way.—Yours faithfully,The Hon. Secretary.
Sir,—I have the honour to inform you of your election as a member of the Club, conditional upon your attendance on the 5th proximo with the Great Seal of the United Kingdom, procured in the usual way.—Yours faithfully,
The Hon. Secretary.
"That's good," he ejaculated. "Ribston's a trump. But what on earth's the Great Seal of the United Kingdom, and where is it to be found?"
Mr. Hilton's library was chiefly devoted to sport and fiction, and he could find no reference to it therein. He had therefore to make inquiries outside, when he learnt that the Great Seal of the United Kingdom was the property of the Lord Chancellor for the time being, that it was a very important object indeed, its impression being requisite at the foot of the highest documentsof State; and, consequently, that its unexpected absence might very well upset the nation's affairs and incidentally bring serious trouble upon anyone who had tampered with it.
Mr. Hilton's sporting instincts were roused. "It seems to me," he thought, "that this is going to be the best thing I have had on since I walked across Thibet disguised as a second-class Mahatma. But where does the Chancellor keep the thing?"
He skimmed through many biographies of Lord Chancellors with very little result. One of them, it appeared, kept the Great Seal with his silver, another always carried it about with him in a special pocket, and slept with it under his pillow; while a third stored it at the Bank of England. History was discreetly silent as to how the other hundred and one keepers of the Great Seal guarded their property.
Mr. Richard Hilton contemplated his notes with disgust. "I never could rely on books," he said. "There's nothing for it but to find out for myself. The present man probably keeps it where any other common-sense fellow would. He'll have a library, so it may be there. He's a goodliver, so it may be in a secret bin in his wine cellar; he's a sportsman, so it may be in a gun-case under his bed. I shall have to look round and find out. Where does he live?"
His lordship's town residence was Shipley House, Kensington Gore. Hilton took a walk in that direction. The house looked as unpromising and unsympathetic a subject for robbery as a metropolitan magistrate could have wished. The spiked railings in front and the high wall at the back would have suggested to most people the impossibility of the enterprise; but Mr. Hilton simply noted these items with interest, and then adjourned to a light lunch at his club to think the matter out.
It was one o'clock in the morning when Mr. Hilton scaled the wall at the rear of the Lord Chancellor's house. Though it was nine feet high, it presented no difficulties to an ex-lieutenant in the navy; but he got over carefully, for he was in evening dress, believing that to be the safest disguise for a general burglar. He dropped lightly on the turf, and then made his way across to the house and commenced a careful inspection of the basement windows. To his intensesurprise, he found the lower sash of one of them to be open. This astonishing piece of good luck meant the saving of at least an hour. With a cheerful heart he entered the house, finding his way by the electric flashlight which he carried.
His passage to the great hall upstairs was easy. Here he halted to take his bearings. He was at the foot of the marble stairs for which Shipley House was famous. Once they had stood in front of Nero's villa at Antium; but, oblivious of his historic surroundings, Mr. Richard Hilton stood wondering which of the four doors on his left led to the library. One after another he cautiously opened them, only to find living or reception rooms. He crossed the hall, and got into the billiard-room. Where on earth was the Lord Chancellor's den? Ah! those heavy curtains under the staircase. He passed through them. There was a short passage, with a door at the end. Hush! what was that? He listened intently. It was nothing—merely nervous fancy. He turned the handle of the door, and entered.
He was in the Lord Chancellor's library. But, Heavens! he was not there alone.
For a moment he drew back in dismay;but the singularity of the other man's occupation arrested him.
He was kneeling on the floor before the wall at the far end of the room. He had a lamp or candle by his side. What on earth was he doing? Had he surprised the Lord High Chancellor, the keeper of the King of England's conscience, worshipping by stealth at some pagan shrine?
What were the rites he was performing? Curiosity impelled Mr. Hilton forward. As he drew nearer, the situation unfolded itself. He had done the Lord Chancellor an injustice. It was not he.
A man was kneeling before a safe built into the wall. He was drilling holes into the door by the light of a lamp.
He was a real burglar!
The humour of the situation struck Mr. Hilton so keenly that he nearly laughed. For some time he watched the operation, expecting each moment to be discovered. Then, as the man continued absorbed in his work, Mr. Hilton sank noiselessly into an easy chair behind him. To prepare for contingencies, his hand had stolen to his coat pocket, and now held a small revolver.
For half an hour longer he continued toadmire the businesslike methods of the burglar. The door of the safe had now been pierced through all round the lock. The man turned to reach another tool. In so doing his eye caught sight of a patent leather boot and a trouser leg, where before there had been empty space. The phenomenon fascinated him. He slowly turned his head, following the clue upward until his eyes were level with the barrel of Mr. Hilton's revolver. His jaw fell, and he stiffened.
"Please keep as you are for a minute," said a low voice from behind the weapon. "I wish you to understand the situation. There is no immediate cause for anxiety. I am—er—a friend in disguise. You may go on with your most interesting work. I shall give no alarm. Do you understand?"
"Who the blazes are you?" asked the burglar.
"Your curiosity is natural. I am in your own noble profession—a top-sawyer or a swell mobsman, I forget which; but I have the certificate at home."
"None of yer gammon," said the burglar. "Can't you put that thing down an' say wot yer game is."
"William," Mr. Hilton replied, "I wishyou clearly to understand that you have nothing at all to do with my game. You go on drilling those nice little holes. When you've got that door open we'll discuss matters further. Please proceed."
man in chair pointing gun at man in doorway"'YOU MAY GO ON WITH YOUR MOST INTERESTING WORK.'"(p. 141.)
(p. 141.)
"D'you take me for a mug?" asked the burglar defiantly.
"I shall, if you don't go on with your work. This instrument goes off on the slightest provocation, and the wound it makes is very painful."
The burglar turned, and resumed his work; but he did not seem to have much heart in it, nor to derive much encouragement from Mr. Hilton's occasional promptings. Every now and then he looked round suspiciously. Another half-hour passed before he had prized the bolts back, and the door was open.
For the moment the two men forgot everything but their curiosity, and both looked anxiously inside. Every shelf and pigeon-hole was rummaged, but there was nothing but letters and documents. There were two drawers below. The locks of these had to be picked. In the last one the burglar pounced on a bag of money and some notes.
"Got 'im!" he cried triumphantly.
"What?"
"Two 'underd an' fifty quid. 'E gets it on the fust of ev'ry month to pay 'is washin' bill."
"How did you know that?"
"From a pal at the bank. I've 'ad this in my eye for a year or more, but I've mos'ly been a-doin' time since I——" He stopped short suddenly, evidently regretting his outburst of confidence.
"Now put that money back," said Mr. Hilton.
"Wot for?"
"Because I tell you."
"Arfter all the trouble I've 'ad? No bloomin' fear."
"Put it back. You shan't lose by it."
"Wot d'ye mean?"
"I'm looking for something myself. It isn't in the safe, but it may be in some other drawer in the room. If I find it I'll give you £250 myself."
"Name o'Morgan, or am I speakin' to Lord Rothschild?" said the burglar sarcastically. "You don't 'appen to 'ave the chink on you?"
"I haven't; but see, you can have this watch and chain, and my sovereign purse,and these links, and I think—yes, here's a tenner. You can have this lot till I give you the money."
The burglar was impressed.
"Cap'n," he said, "you've a free an' easy way in 'andlin' walubles wot soots me down to the ground. I wish we could 'ave met sooner. It would 'ave saved my ole woman many a weary six months. But wot's the need to leave the chink? S'pose we takes the bag, an' leaves the notes?"
"You've got to leave the lot, William," said Mr. Hilton decisively.
The burglar turned thoughtfully away from the safe. "Wot is it you're lookin' for?" he asked. "'As the guv'n'r cut you orf with a bob, an' are you a-goin' to alter the ole bloke's will?"
"I'm looking for a seal."
"Stuffed?" asked William, with a sportsman's interest.
"No. A seal for stamping wax. It's a big one, made of silver, and about six inches across. Let's try these drawers in the desk."
There were six of them. Four were open, the other two locked. It took some time to open these. They were full of legal matter. Then they turned their attention to a setbelow some bookshelves. While the burglar was busy with the locks Hilton turned over the papers on the desk. The first was headed, "House of Lords: Gibbinsv.Gibbins. Judgment of Lord Ravy." Another read, "Gibbinsv.Gibbins. Judgment of Lord McTaughtun." Beside them was the half-written judgment of the Lord Chancellor himself.
Mr. Richard Hilton looked at these legal feats without interest. Mechanically he lifted the lid of the desk. A large leather case fitted exactly into the compartment below. He pulled it out. It was stamped with the royal arms.
"Here. Cut this, please."
The flap was cut, and Hilton drew out a richly embroidered and betasselled silk purse.
He looked eagerly inside.
"Hurrah!" he cried in his excitement. For it was the Great Seal of the United Kingdom.
The burglar examined it critically, and then felt its weight. "Five quid," he said, putting it down contemptuously.
Hilton dropped it carefully into his pocket.
At this moment the electric light was suddenly switched on, and the whole place was brilliantly illuminated. They bothturned sharply towards the door. There in his dressing-gown stood an old gentleman. Hilton had often seen those classic features in photographs or the illustrated papers. He recognised them at once. It was the Lord Chancellor.
"What are you doing here?" came the stern judicial voice.
"We are—er—we are making the Home Circuit, my lord," said Hilton deferentially. "May I ask your lordship to be good enough to lower your voice. You perceive that I am armed."
"You would dare to fire on me, sir?" said the Lord Chancellor.
"I hope it will not be necessary; for in that case your lordship would not hunt next season with the Bister Vale. Will you please take that seat?"
His lordship sank into the chair. "You are a bold man," he said, after a pause.
"A bold, bad man, I fear, my lord. And so is my partner, Mr. William Sikes here. Aren't you, William?"
William did not reply. He was gazing intently at the Lord Chancellor.
"Ain't yer name 'Ardy?" he asked. "'Enery 'Ardy?"
"It used to be," replied his lordship.
"I thought so," said Mr. Sikes. "Then I says to yer face you're a bloomin', footlin' rotter."
"'Gently, brother, gently, pray,'" said Hilton.
"A bloomin', footlin' rotter," repeated Mr. Sikes with the earnestness of conviction. "An' I've waited five-an'-twenty year to tell you so."
"Ah," said the Lord Chancellor, with some interest. "How is that?"
"I once paid you to defend me at the Dawchester 'Sizes respectin' a mare wot 'ad follered me inter 'Ampshire. A sickenin' 'ash you made of it. You got two quid fer the job, an' I got two year. I b'lieve you woz boozed."
"Pray forgive William, my lord," said Hilton. "He forgets himself strangely when he's excited. We have a lot of trouble with him at home."
William glared at him. "I ain't forgot that bloke's ugly mug, any'ow. I swore I'd be quits with 'im one day, an', holy Moses, it's my go now." Saying this, he clutched his jemmy, and advanced threateningly towards his lordship.
"Stay, you fool!" Hilton cried. "If you dare to touch him I'll shoot you. Get back."
William hesitated.
"If you don't get back before I count three I'll lame you for life. One—two——"
William retired sullenly.
"My lord," said Hilton, "I must draw this painful interview to a close. Your presence excites William, and he's always dangerous when excited. We will retire. Before I go, I wish to give you my word of honour that anything we may take away with us to-night will be again in your possession within forty-eight hours."
"Your word of honour, sir!" repeated his lordship with withering contempt.
"You are ungenerous, my lord. You force me to remind you that but for my interference William would undoubtedly have had his revenge upon you to-night, and the Woolsack have lost its brightest ornament. In return, I ask your lordship to give me your own assurance that you will not raise any alarm for the next half-hour. If you do not we shall have to bind and gag you."
"Don't you be such a fool as to trust 'im," said William. "I'll do the gaggin'," he added, with enthusiasm.
"Shut up, William," said Mr. Hilton. "If his lordship gives his word you may be sure he will keep it—even with thieves. The age of chivalry is not yet past, although you are still alive. My lord, do you agree?"
"I am in your hands. I promise."
Hilton bowed. He pointed to the door to his companion.
"My tools," said William, going round the desk to collect them. A minute later the two had left the room. In five minutes they had scaled the outside wall, and within the half-hour were in Richard Hilton's rooms.
Mr. William Sikes looked round him admiringly.
"I understand your feelings, William," said Mr. Hilton, "but my windows and doors are every night connected with a burglar-alarm, and my man, who was once a noted bruiser, is close at hand. I don't really think it would be safe for you to call again. Now you want your money. I will write a cheque out, payable to bearer, and give it you. If you make yourself nice and tidy they will cash it for you in the morning over the counter at my bank."
"I don't like cashin' cheques at banks," said William. "I never was any good atit," he added pensively. "Ain't you got any rhino in this 'ere shanty?"
"Let me see. You have a tenner of mine in your pocket. Perhaps I can give you some more." Hilton opened a bureau, and produced a cash-box. "You see where I keep it, William," he remarked pleasantly. "I shall have to find another place for it in future—you are so very impulsive. Ah, here we are. Three fivers and two—four—six in gold. That makes twenty-one. And where's the sovereign purse I gave you? Thank you. Here are four more: that makes twenty-five; and you have ten: that is thirty-five. Now I'll make a cheque out for the balance—what is it? Yes; two hundred and fifteen pounds. . . . Here it is. Perhaps your friend at the Lord Chancellor's bank will present it for you before three o'clock this afternoon, when I shall suddenly find that I have lost the cheque, and shall stop payment."
"Wot do you do that for?" asked William suspiciously.
"I must do it for my own protection, William, as I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise for me to have any direct transactions with you. But until three o'clock the game isin your hands. Now it's time for you to have your beauty sleep. I am much obliged for your assistance. Good-night. Oh, by the way, let me have my watch, please—and the links. William, I'm afraid you were forgetting them."
"Blow me, but I was," said William frankly, as he dived into his capacious pockets. "My mem'ry ain't wot it used to be, an' I knows it. Wot with work an' worry, an' worry an' work, it don't 'ave a fair chance. 'Ere you are, Cap'n." And William placed the jewellery in Mr. Hilton's hands with obvious regret. Then his host showed him off the premises.
It was now four o'clock. Hilton pulled out the Great Seal, and locked it up in a secret drawer in his bureau. Then he retired to rest, in the happy consciousness of a night well spent.
He rose late that morning, and it was one o'clock before he left his rooms. In Piccadilly, on the news posters:
"THEGREAT SEALOFENGLANDSTOLEN,"
at once caught his eye. He bought a paper, and turned to the column with curious interest.
"A daring robbery was perpetrated in the early hours of this morning at Shipley House, Kensington Gore, the residence of the Lord Chancellor. His lordship, being unable to sleep, came downstairs about two o'clock, intending to complete an important judgment. In the library he found two burglars, who succeeded in decamping before his lordship could obtain assistance."The Great Seal of England, and £250 in gold and notes are missing."This is probably the most audacious burglary of modern times, for the Lord Chancellor is the head of the judicial system of the country, and, after Royalty, is only second in importance to the Archbishop of Canterbury."England is to-day without a Great Seal of State, a position unparalleled since it was stolen from Lord Thurlow's residence in 1784. Only once before had it been missing—when James II. threw it into the Thames at Lambeth."Great inconvenience has already been caused by its absence, as the treaty between England and Korea was to have been signed to-morrow, and the Great Seal affixed thereto. We understand that the Privy Council will meet in the morning at Buckingham Palace in order to deal with the situation thus created."We are informed that the police have an important clue which will lead to the apprehension of at least one of the criminals. We do not know whether any special penalty is attached to the theft of the Great Seal, but a century ago the perpetrator of the crime would undoubtedly have been hanged."
"A daring robbery was perpetrated in the early hours of this morning at Shipley House, Kensington Gore, the residence of the Lord Chancellor. His lordship, being unable to sleep, came downstairs about two o'clock, intending to complete an important judgment. In the library he found two burglars, who succeeded in decamping before his lordship could obtain assistance.
"The Great Seal of England, and £250 in gold and notes are missing.
"This is probably the most audacious burglary of modern times, for the Lord Chancellor is the head of the judicial system of the country, and, after Royalty, is only second in importance to the Archbishop of Canterbury.
"England is to-day without a Great Seal of State, a position unparalleled since it was stolen from Lord Thurlow's residence in 1784. Only once before had it been missing—when James II. threw it into the Thames at Lambeth.
"Great inconvenience has already been caused by its absence, as the treaty between England and Korea was to have been signed to-morrow, and the Great Seal affixed thereto. We understand that the Privy Council will meet in the morning at Buckingham Palace in order to deal with the situation thus created.
"We are informed that the police have an important clue which will lead to the apprehension of at least one of the criminals. We do not know whether any special penalty is attached to the theft of the Great Seal, but a century ago the perpetrator of the crime would undoubtedly have been hanged."
Richard Hilton stared at this in blank amazement. The pains and penalties did not disturb him, but "£250 in gold and notes missing" held him spellbound. Suddenly light dawned upon him, and he burst out with "Done! And by William! That was when he collected his tools, and I wasn't watching. The scoundrel! Hi! hansom! . . . Cox's Bank. Sharp!"
Ten minutes later he was at the bank counter.
"I have lost a cheque for £215, payable to bearer, made out to self and endorsed. Please stop payment," he said.
"Very sorry, Mr. Hilton," replied the teller. "It was presented first thing this morning, and I cashed it in gold."
That evening the meeting of the Burglars' Club was held at the house of Lord Altamont, an ex-colonel of the Welsh Guards. There was a record attendance. The robbery ofthe Great Seal had excited general interest, but to members of the Club the accompanying details were of the gravest importance.
After the usual opening formalities had been gone through, Lord Ribston rose.
"Mr. President, I crave leave for Mr. Richard Hilton, a cadet member of this club, to speak."
Assent was given by the general silence, which was maintained when Hilton entered.
"Mr. President, my lords and gentlemen," he began, "I regret exceedingly that I have to make my first appearance in your midst with an apology. I take it that you have all seen the paragraph in the papers stating that the Great Seal is missing from the Lord Chancellor's House, and, in addition to that, £250 in notes and gold. No explanation is needed as to the absence of the Great Seal, for that resulted from the mandate of your club. The other item calls for a clear and explicit statement of the facts of the case."
Here Hilton gave an account of the robbery from his first meeting the burglar to his parting from him, concluding, "So now, gentlemen, I suggest that I deserve your sympathy rather than your blame;for not only has Mr. Sikes relieved me of £250, but I have promised the Lord Chancellor to return anything we took away with us. I shall, therefore, have to send him a further like sum. I do not grudge the loss of £500, since I have been enabled to qualify as a member of your club, but I do most sincerely regret that my bungling has led to even a temporary suspicion that the taint of professionalism has been brought into your midst. My lords and gentlemen, I am in your hands. Here, at any rate, is the Great Seal of the United Kingdom."
The last words were lost in tumultuous applause. Each member rose to his feet and acclaimed the speaker, and then they crowded round him and shook hands.
"Gentlemen," said the President, when order had been restored, "I move that Mr. Richard Hilton be now formally enrolled as a member of the Club, and in your name I welcome him as one who has already added lustre to our annals. The circumstances of his entry are so unusual that, as a mark of our appreciation, I beg to move that the provincial line due from him in the usual course of things in two years' time be hereby excused, and that, as an exception to ourrule, Mr. Hilton be elected for a term of four years."
The proposition was carried by acclamation.
"Your Grace and gentlemen, I thank you," said the beaming Richard Hilton.
The Privy Council met at ten on the following morning, and ordered a new seal to be engraved; but at noon a postal packet was delivered at Shipley House, which, on being opened, disclosed an old biscuit tin, then tissue paper, then cotton-wool, and finally the Great Seal of the United Kingdom.
The treaty between England and Korea was signed with the usual formalities at three in the afternoon.
Later in the day the Lord Chancellor received from five different quarters registered parcels, each weighing about a pound avoirdupois. Each packet contained fifty sovereigns.
Thus within forty-eight hours his lordship had received all the stolen property. In consideration thereof he cancelled his instructions to Scotland Yard to follow up a clue which Mr. William Sikes had incautiouslygiven about a Dorset horse robbery in the late 'seventies.
His lordship also advertised his acknowledgments in the agony column of theTimes, and asked for the favour of an explanation of the whole incident. This was not forthcoming, and the matter remained for some time the one unsolved riddle of his lordship's life.
Mr. William Sikes, with the £500 so ingeniously obtained, retired from the burglary profession, and bought a little public house known as the "Goat and Compasses." For some reason or other he altered the name to "Seal and Compasses," thereby causing much mystification to future antiquarians in that particular district.
In recalling his conduct on the night in question, Mr. Sikes spends some of the happiest hours of his life.
To Mr. Richard Hilton the events of that night were also eminently satisfactory. He was the only loser, but he had gained more than he had lost, for the laurels of the Burglars' Club were his.
THE LION AND THE SUN.
Thevisit of His Royal Highness Ali Azim Mirza, nephew of the Shah, accompanied by the Grand Vizier, Hasan Kuli, is fresh in our memories. The mission of the Prince was to invest a distinguished personage with the insignia of the Lion and the Sun in order to mark the Persian monarch's appreciation of the Garter which had been recently conferred upon him. The Mission duly returned with its object accomplished. Outwardly everything happened as was anticipated, and there are but few who know how nearly we approached to a war with Russia as a consequence of the visit, while still fewer are aware that such a calamity was averted by a cadet member of the Burglars' Club.
In the unwritten annals of the Club the incident stands out prominently. It is well that it should be recorded before it is forgotten.
The special Mission was due to arrive in London on the 10th of the month. It was to leave on the 16th. Lord Denton hadplaced his town house at the disposal of the Prince and his retinue during their stay.
On the 4th, Mr. Birket Rivers, a cadet member of the Burglars' Club, received an intimation that his entrance fee could be paid on the 13th by the production of the insignia of the Order which the Prince was bringing with him.
On the evening of the 8th, John Parker, a footman in the employ of Lord Denton, called by request on Mr. Rivers at his rooms in the Albany.
"You wished to see me, sir?"
"Ah, Parker, how are you getting on?"
"Very well, thank you, sir."
"You are going to have great times, Parker. When does Lord Denton leave?"
"To-morrow, sir."
"Are all the servants staying behind?"
"Only about half of us, sir. The Persians bring their own cooks and men."
"Quite so. Are you remaining?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I want you to let me take your place."
Parker opened his eyes very wide. "Beg pardon, sir," he said, feeling sure he had misunderstood the last remark.
"I want to take your place as footman in Denton House while the Persians are there. If you will help me to do so, Parker, there's ten pounds for you."
Parker scratched his head. "I should like the ten pounds, sir; but I don't see how I'm to get it. They'd never mistake you for me, sir, though we are about the same build. Mr. Bradshaw would spot the difference at once."
"Who is Mr. Bradshaw?"
"The butler, sir. He's pretty well left in charge of the house."
"Listen, Parker. The Prince comes the day after to-morrow. At eleven o'clock in the morning of that day you've got to be taken ill. Tell Bradshaw you can't work, and you think it's something infectious. Tell him that your cousin, James Finny, who is only staying on with me till he hears of a place, would jump at the job. Send me word, and I will turn up at once."
"Mr. Bradshaw might know you, sir."
"I don't think so. I've never been at the house. Besides, I shall shave off my moustache. Anyway, Parker, I'll take care you lose nothing by it, even if I should be found out."
John Parker left a quarter of an hour later, ten pounds richer than he came. In his pocket he carried a letter which eventually reached Mr. Rivers by special messenger at noon on the 10th. It ran:
Dear James,—Come immediately. I am ill, and Mr. Bradshaw says you can take my place.—Your loving cousin,John Parker.
Dear James,—Come immediately. I am ill, and Mr. Bradshaw says you can take my place.—Your loving cousin,
John Parker.
With his moustache shaved off, and attired in a painfully respectable ready-made suit, Rivers presented himself at Denton House at one o'clock. He found Mr. Bradshaw in a highly-wrought condition.
"So you're Parker's cousin? A pretty mess he's landed me in!"
"I hope he's not very bad, sir."
"I hope he is. I hope he'll die," said Mr. Bradshaw vengefully. "You've lived with Mr. Rivers?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you announce visitors?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go to that door, and announce the Lord Mayor."
Rivers—or, rather, James Finny—flung open the door, and announced in stentorian accents, "His Worship the Lord Mayor of London."
"You hass!" shouted Mr. Bradshaw. "You only worship him when you're in the prisoners' box. I 'spect that's where you met him. Call him 'his Lordship' when he's a-wisitin'. Now again."
James obeyed.
"Bravo—that's better!" said another voice. It proceeded from a mite of a man who had approached noiselessly, and who now stood rubbing his hands approvingly. "But it's rather late for rehearsals, Mr. Bradshaw, isn't it?" he added.
"Parker's taken ill," said Mr. Bradshaw savagely. "He's sent this screw to take his place."
"So thoughtful of Parker," murmured the little man. "What's your name, and where do you come from?" addressing the candidate for office.
"James Finny, sir—from Mr. Birket Rivers."
"Mr. Birket Rivers," reflected the other. "Ah, to be sure—Mr. Birket Rivers, the young millionaire. Drives a team of spanking bays at the Four-in-Hand meets. Attaché at Constantinople, or something. Came into money and left the Service. Wishes he'd stopped in it, I believe. A veryactive young gentleman. Oh, yes, I've heard of your master—your late master, James Finny."
The little man was studying him intently all the time. Then he fixed his eyes on Rivers' hands. He lifted the right one, looked at it, and passed on.
There was a loud ring, and a footman entered with "Please, Mr. Bradshaw, there's the gentlemen come from the hembassy."
The butler bustled to the door. "Go up to Parker's room, and change into his things at once, and then come down to me in the 'all," he said to Rivers.
"Yes, sir," Rivers replied. "Beg pardon, Mr. Bradshaw, who was that small gentleman wot just left us?"
"That small gentleman," said Mr. Bradshaw, with swelling dignity, "is Mr. Marvell, from Scotland Yard; so you'd better be careful, Finny."
Prince Ali Azim, accompanied by the Vizier and a numerous suite, arrived that afternoon, and the whole household was thenceforth kept busy attending to the wants, numerous and peculiar, of the Persians. Rivers' chief duties were to attend to the hall door, and to help to wait at meals. He did his work to the satisfaction of Mr.Bradshaw, and never a day passed without Mr. Marvell, who was installed as the protecting angel of the establishment, staring fixedly at him, and then passing some word of commendation in a tone that brought the blood to his face.
"A shocking habit you have of blushing, James Finny," the little man would say as he toddled away.
And all the time the new footman was trying to find out where the Order of the Lion and the Sun was kept.
It was the 12th before he ascertained that it was in one of three despatch boxes kept in a bookcase in the library.
The Burglars' meeting took place on the 13th. He must purloin it before then—that very night, if possible.
At five o'clock the Vizier was taken ill.
"Some of Parker's leavin's, I'll be bound," said Mr. Bradshaw. "Same symtims. Looks all right, and talks despairin' of pains an' shivers. Won't have a doctor, neither. If the Wizzer pipes out, Finny, your preshus cousin'll be responsible."
At 8 p.m. the Prince and his suite, with the exception of the invalid Vizier, set out for the Alhambra and supper at the Carlton.Mr. Marvell, as usual, followed closely in their wake.
At nine o'clock James Finny was off duty. "Now or never," he thought. He watched his opportunity, and then, unperceived, entered the library, and there hid himself behind a curtain, intending to wait till the household was asleep, and then to open the despatch box from his bunch of skeleton keys. He had been there perhaps half an hour when the door opened, and, to his amazement, the Vizier entered. He was followed by a servant bringing coffee and cigarettes. There were cups for two.
The minutes passed slowly. The Vizier looked impatiently at the clock, then strode up to one of the windows, pulled back the heavy curtain, raised the blind, and looked out. Rivers' pulses quickened. What if the Vizier were to come to his window?
"Ha!" exclaimed the Persian, replacing the curtain, and resuming his seat.
The door opened, and a bemuffled object made its appearance. The Vizier rose. The servant withdrew, and the object emerged from its wraps. Rivers knew the man at once. He had met him at Constantinople. It was Count Moranoff.
The Vizier bowed.
The newcomer responded, and then gave a sigh of relief.
"Peste!but it was warm, Vizier," he said. "I am delighted at last to have the honour and the supreme pleasure of meeting you."
"Your Excellency," replied the Vizier, "the fame of Count Moranoff has for long inspired me with an intense wish that we should meet. Allah has at last granted the desire of my life. Will your Excellency seat yourself? Here is coffeealla Turca."
The count drew up his chair, and took the proffered cup. As he lit a cigarette, his eyes travelled appreciatively over the portraits of a dozen Dentons, famous in the service of their country. "It is fitting we should meet here," he said, "surrounded by these illustrious gentlemen, who look on, but cannot move. It is prophetic."
"It is Kismet," said the Vizier gravely.
"Kismet, assisted by two statesmen," returned the Count. "Exactly. But I mustn't lose time, Vizier, as our moments are precious." He put his hand into his breast pocket, and produced a document. "Here is the draft of our understanding, arrangedso far as is possible with three thousand versts between us. Now we must discuss the final details. I have indicated my suggestions, and if they meet with your approval it will be possible for us to sign before you leave London."
The Persian watched the smoke rings float upward. "There is no haste," he said. "'Fruit ripens slowly under grey skies,' as our poet sings."
"Quite so—quite so," said the Russian, conscious of an error. "This year—the next will do. Our treasury has many drains upon it. We are not anxious to add to the number."
The Vizier smoked imperturbably. "The skies are grey here," he said at length, "but this London holds some wonderful men. One I met yesterday—an American. He is young. His hair is still flaxen. Yet he spoke of money as though it grew on rose trees. Half a million roubles are as nothing to him. He gave that sum for an Italian picture—an old, shabby-looking thing such as my master would not place in his anterooms. He owns oil mines, railways, banks. Allah! what does that flaxen-haired youth not own? My heart ached at the number of his possessions."
"These Americans talk," replied the Count. "Half they say is false, half exaggeration."
"Sometimes, no doubt," said the Vizier, "but not always. I know this man is rich. He is one of the new kings of the earth. We have already had a transaction together," and he sighed contentedly.
"There are kings and kings," replied the Russian. "There are also emperors. Your Excellency is now in negotiation with one who controls the destinies of countless millions—men and roubles. When last I saw his Majesty he said, 'Tell his Excellency the Grand Vizier that I would his wisdom could be added to that of my counsellors. When the wishes of my heart respecting the new treaty are consummated he will honour me by accepting half a million roubles.'"
The Persian gazed reflectively into space. "Your master is great," he said, "and he is generous. His rewards make glad the hearts of poets. He is the joy of the poor. Would that I were a poet or poor. So should my voice praise him also."
The Russian's eye gleamed, but he continued suavely:
"So said my royal master, 'Half a millionroubles shall be his when the treaty is signed; five hundred thousand more when the Russian flag floats in the Persian Gulf.'"
The Persian leaned back resignedly.
"Great is the power of your master," he said. "As Russia is bigger than America, so does his power exceed that of the flaxen-haired gentleman I met yesterday. The Americans are numbered by tens, your master's subjects by hundreds of millions. Besides, it is always more agreeable to deal with a first-class diplomatist. Let me look at the draft."
Count Moranoff handed over the document. The Vizier read it slowly. The terms were fairly comprehensive. Behind his curtain Rivers breathed hard at their audacity, and his blood tingled at the thought that it rested with him to checkmate this daring move. The statesmen discoursed frankly, and there was no disguise of the object in view. India was eventually to be attacked by Russia, who was prepared to pay for facilities granted. The north-eastern province of Persia was a necessary factor of the scheme, and a railway was to be commenced at once from Astrabad to Meshed. But the most striking part of the plan wasthe acquisition by Russia of a port in the Persian Gulf. The Isle of Kishm was to be ceded to her. The only discussion between the two statesmen was with regard to the Island of Ashurada in the Caspian. The Vizier demanded its evacuation by Russia in partial payment for Kishm, but more particularly as a sop to the Persian people. After much demur this was finally agreed to by Moranoff, in addition to the annuity of two million roubles granted to the Shah.
The Vizier folded up the document.
"My secretary shall transcribe this to-morrow," he said, "and we can sign after our return from Windsor. Strange, is it not," he soliloquised, "that our former negotiations came to a head when the English Mission brought the Garter, and our new one is to be consummated while we are in the act of returning the compliment? These English are fated to be hoodwinked."
"When men such as you and I get together, my dear Vizier——" began the Russian sententiously. Then he stopped short, for the door had suddenly opened.
The Persian turned angrily, and then rose to his feet as a tall, richly-dressed man entered. It was the Prince Ali Azim.
"Vizier," said the Prince abruptly, "whom have you here? Your physician?"
The Vizier's face had assumed a bland smile, and instinctively he endeavoured to cover the treaty. But the Prince saw the movement.
"Why hide the prescription, Vizier?" he said.
The Russian's face grew livid, but the Vizier regained his usual composure.
"Your Royal Highness," he said, "permit me to present his Excellency Count Moranoff."
"Ten thousand pardons, Count," said the Prince, slightly returning the Count's profound inclination. "You will, perhaps, understand my mistake when I tell you that the Vizier is far from well. He has, no doubt, concealed the fact from you, but he was too ill to accompany me this evening to the hall of music. Hence my surprise at finding him here. I fear that his extraordinary zeal for affairs has led him prematurely from his bed. I am sure that you would not wish him to trespass unduly on his strength."
"Your Royal Highness's surmise is correct," said Moranoff. "It would, indeed, be an international calamity were the Vizierto break down. I hope I have not hastened that end." He again bowed profoundly to the Prince, refused the Vizier's offer of assistance with his wraps, and then, with a cold adieu to him, left the room.
"Now, Hasan Kuli," thundered the Prince when they were alone, "what intrigue is this?"
"Your Royal Highness's suspicions are uncalled for. Moranoff and I are old friends by correspondence. We had never met personally, and he naturally seized this opportunity."
"I did not know he was in England," said the Prince. "The Russian Ambassador incidentally referred to him to-day as being in Petersburg. I left you in bed, full of toothache and indigestion. I return unexpectedly, and find you deliberating with a Russian who is supposed to be five hundredfarsakhsaway. Give me that paper."
The Vizier reluctantly produced it, and the Prince read it through.
"Ah," he said, as he refolded it. "I see you are making a cat's-paw of me again. My mission here is to do away with any ill-effects consequent on our treaty with Russia. You will remember that when wewere fooling the English Mission in Teheran I knew nothing of the treaty just concluded with Russia. My uncle and you delighted to keep me in the dark; yet all the time it was I who did the work. Was it his Majesty the Shah who played at billiards and cards with the English? Was it you who fought them at lawn tennis. Bah! I laugh at the thought. But I played at all. I lost my money at cards and billiards, and I suffered defeat at lawn tennis till the perspiration rolled down me, and my legs gave way. And you smoked and laughed, and got all the profit. I, who worked, got none. Now I have come over land and sea with the Order of the Lion and the Sun. Again I do the work—again I know nothing. I find you intriguing behind my back. You treat me as a child; but you forget that some day I may be Shah. You play with fire, Vizier."
"Your Royal Highness, I beg you to believe that I have acted for what I thought was the benefit of our country."
"And your own pocket," added the Prince. "How much plunder do you get out of this?"
The Vizier held up his hands in horror. "Your Royal Highness," he said, "isnothing ever done disinterestedly—from pure patriotism?"