CHAPTER IV
CONFIDENCES
During our walk home my friend was unusually thoughtful and silent, andhis face bore a look of concentration under which I thought I coulddetect, in spite of his habitually impassive expression, a certainsuppressed excitement of a not entirely unpleasurable kind. I forbore,however, from making any remarks or asking questions, not only because Isaw that he was preoccupied, but also because, from my knowledge of theman, I judged that he would consider it his duty to keep his own counseland to make no unnecessary confidences even to me.
On our arrival at his chambers he immediately handed over the camera toPolton with a few curt directions as to the development of the plates,and, lunch being already prepared, we sat down at the table withoutdelay.
We had proceeded with our meal in silence for some time when Thorndykesuddenly laid down his knife and fork and looked into my face with asmile of quiet amusement.
"It has just been borne in upon me, Jervis," said he, "that you are themost companionable fellow in the world. You have the heaven-sent gift ofsilence."
"If silence is the test of companionability," I answered, with a grin,"I think I can pay you a similar compliment in even more emphaticterms."
He laughed cheerfully and rejoined--
"You are pleased to be sarcastic, I observe; but I maintain my position.The capacity to preserve an opportune silence is the rarest and mostprecious of social accomplishments. Now, most men would have plied mewith questions and babbled comments on my proceedings at Scotland Yard,whereas you have allowed me to sort out, without interruption, a mass ofevidence while it is still fresh and impressive, to docket each item andstow it away in the pigeonholes of my brain. By the way, I have made aridiculous oversight."
"What is that?" I asked.
"The 'Thumbograph.' I never ascertained whether the police have it orwhether it is still in the possession of Mrs. Hornby."
"Does it matter?" I inquired.
"Not much; only I must see it. And perhaps it will furnish an excellentpretext for you to call on Miss Gibson. As I am busy at the hospitalthis afternoon and Polton has his hands full, it would be a good planfor you to drop in at Endsley Gardens--that is the address, I think--andif you can see Miss Gibson, try to get a confidential chat with her, andextend your knowledge of the manners and customs of the three MessieursHornby. Put on your best bedside manner and keep your weather eyelifting. Find out everything you can as to the characters and habits ofthose three gentlemen, regardless of all scruples of delicacy.Everything is of importance to us, even to the names of their tailors."
"And with regard to the 'Thumbograph'?"
"Find out who has it, and, if it is still in Mrs. Hornby's possession,get her to lend it to us or--what might, perhaps, be better--get herpermission to take a photograph of it."
"It shall be done according to your word," said I. "I will furbish up myexterior, and this very afternoon make my first appearance in thecharacter of Paul Pry."
About an hour later I found myself upon the doorstep of Mr. Hornby'shouse in Endsley Gardens listening to the jangling of the bell that Ihad just set in motion.
"Miss Gibson, sir?" repeated the parlourmaid in response to my question."She _was_ going out, but I am not sure whether she has gone yet. If youwill step in, I will go and see."
I followed her into the drawing-room, and, threading my way amongst thelitter of small tables and miscellaneous furniture by which ladiesnowadays convert their special domain into the semblance of a broker'sshop, let go my anchor in the vicinity of the fireplace to await theparlourmaid's report.
I had not long to wait, for in less than a minute Miss Gibson herselfentered the room. She wore her hat and gloves, and I congratulatedmyself on my timely arrival.
"I didn't expect to see you again so soon, Dr. Jervis," she said,holding out her hand with a frank and friendly manner, "but you are verywelcome all the same. You have come to tell me something?"
"On the contrary," I replied, "I have come to ask you something."
"Well, that is better than nothing," she said, with a shade ofdisappointment. "Won't you sit down?"
I seated myself with caution on a dwarf chair of scrofulous aspect, andopened my business without preamble.
"Do you remember a thing called a 'Thumbograph'?"
"Indeed I do," she replied with energy. "It was the cause of all thistrouble."
"Do you know if the police took possession of it?"
"The detective took it to Scotland Yard that the finger-print expertsmight examine it and compare the two thumb-prints; and they wanted tokeep it, but Mrs. Hornby was so distressed at the idea of its beingused in evidence that they let her have it back. You see, they reallyhad no further need of it, as they could take a print for themselveswhen they had Reuben in custody; in fact, he volunteered to have a printtaken at once, as soon as he was arrested, and that was done."
"So the 'Thumbograph' is now in Mrs. Hornby's possession?"
"Yes, unless she has destroyed it. She spoke of doing so."
"I hope she has not," said I, in some alarm, "for Dr. Thorndyke isextremely anxious, for some reason, to examine it."
"Well, she will be down in a few minutes, and then we shall know. I toldher you were here. Have you any idea what Dr. Thorndyke's reason is forwanting to see it?"
"None whatever," I replied. "Dr. Thorndyke is as close as an oyster. Hetreats me as he treats every one else--he listens attentively, observesclosely, and says nothing."
"It doesn't sound very agreeable," mused Miss Gibson; "and yet he seemedvery nice and sympathetic."
"He _is_ very nice and sympathetic," I retorted with some emphasis, "buthe doesn't make himself agreeable by divulging his clients' secrets."
"I suppose not; and I regard myself as very effectively snubbed," saidshe, smiling, but evidently somewhat piqued by my not very tactfulobservation.
I was hastening to repair my error with apologies and self-accusations,when the door opened and an elderly lady entered the room. She wassomewhat stout, amiable and placid of mien, and impressed me (to beentirely truthful) as looking rather foolish.
"Here is Mrs. Hornby," said Miss Gibson, presenting me to her hostess;and she continued, "Dr. Jervis has come to ask about the 'Thumbograph.'You haven't destroyed it, I hope?"
"No, my dear," replied Mrs. Hornby. "I have it in my little bureau. Whatdid Dr. Jervis wish to know about it?"
Seeing that she was terrified lest some new and dreadful surprise shouldbe sprung upon her, I hastened to reassure her.
"My colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, is anxious to examine it. He is directingyour nephew's defence, you know."
"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Hornby. "Juliet told me about him. She says he isa dear. Do you agree with her?"
Here I caught Miss Gibson's eye, in which was a mischievous twinkle, andnoted a little deeper pink in her cheeks.
"Well," I answered dubiously, "I have never considered my colleague inthe capacity of a dear, but I have a very high opinion of him in everyrespect."
"That, no doubt, is the masculine equivalent," said Miss Gibson,recovering from the momentary embarrassment that Mrs. Hornby's artlessrepetition of her phrase had produced. "I think the feminine expressionis more epigrammatic and comprehensive. But to return to the object ofDr. Jervis's visit. Would you let him have the 'Thumbograph,' aunt, toshow to Dr. Thorndyke?" "Oh, my dear Juliet," replied Mrs. Hornby, "Iwould do anything--anything--to help our poor boy. I will never believethat he could be guilty of theft--common, vulgar theft. There has beensome dreadful mistake--I am convinced there has--I told the detectivesso. I assured them that Reuben could not have committed the robbery, andthat they were totally mistaken in supposing him to be capable of suchan action. But they would not listen to me, although I have known himsince he was a little child, and ought to be able to judge, if anyoneis. Diamonds, too! Now, I ask you, what could Reuben want with diamonds?and they were not even cut."
Here Mrs. Hornby drew forth a lace-edged handkerchief and m
opped hereyes.
"I am sure Dr. Thorndyke will be very much interested to see this littlebook of yours," said I, with a view to stemming the tide of herreflections.
"Oh, the 'Thumbograph,'" she replied. "Yes, I will let him have it withthe greatest pleasure. I am so glad he wishes to see it; it makes onefeel hopeful to know that he is taking so much interest in the case.Would you believe it, Dr. Jervis, those detective people actually wantedto keep it to bring up in evidence against the poor boy. My'Thumbograph,' mind you. But I put my foot down there and they had toreturn it. I was resolved that they should not receive any assistancefrom me in their efforts to involve my nephew in this horrible affair."
"Then, perhaps," said Miss Gibson, "you might give Dr. Jervis the'Thumbograph' and he can hand it to Dr. Thorndyke."
"Of course I will," said Mrs. Hornby; "instantly; and you need notreturn it, Dr. Jervis. When you have finished with it, fling it into thefire. I wish never to see it again."
But I had been considering the matter, and had come to the conclusionthat it would be highly indiscreet to take the book out of Mrs. Hornby'scustody, and this I now proceeded to explain.
"I have no idea," I said, "for what purpose Dr. Thorndyke wishes toexamine the 'Thumbograph,' but it occurs to me that he may desire to putit in evidence, in which case it would be better that it should not goout of your possession for the present. He merely commissioned me to askfor your permission to take a photograph of it."
"Oh, if he wants a photograph," said Mrs. Hornby, "I could get one donefor him without any difficulty. My nephew Walter would take one for us,I am sure, if I asked him. He is so clever, you know--is he not, Juliet,dear?"
"Yes, aunt," replied Miss Gibson quickly, "but I expect Dr. Thorndykewould rather take the photograph himself."
"I am sure he would," I agreed. "In fact, a photograph taken by anotherperson would not be of much use to him."
"Ah," said Mrs. Hornby in a slightly injured tone, "you think Walter isjust an ordinary amateur; but if I were to show you some of thephotographs he has taken you would really be surprised. He is remarkablyclever, I assure you."
"Would you like us to bring the book to Dr. Thorndyke's chambers?" askedMiss Gibson. "That would save time and trouble."
"It is excessively good of you--" I began.
"Not at all. When shall we bring it? Would you like to have it thisevening?"
"We should very much," I replied. "My colleague could then examine itand decide what is to be done with it. But it is giving you so muchtrouble."
"It is nothing of the kind," said Miss Gibson. "You would not mindcoming with me this evening, would you, aunt?"
"Certainly not, my dear," replied Mrs. Hornby, and she was about toenlarge on the subject when Miss Gibson rose and, looking at her watch,declared that she must start on her errand at once. I also rose to makemy adieux, and she then remarked--
"If you are walking in the same direction as I am, Dr. Jervis, we mightarrange the time of our proposed visit as we go along."
I was not slow to avail myself of this invitation, and a few secondslater we left the house together, leaving Mrs. Hornby smiling fatuouslyafter us from the open door.
"Will eight o'clock suit you, do you think?" Miss Gibson asked, as wewalked up the street.
"It will do excellently, I should say," I answered. "If anything shouldrender the meeting impossible I will send you a telegram. I could wishthat you were coming alone, as ours is to be a business conference."
Miss Gibson laughed softly--and a very pleasant and musical laugh itwas.
"Yes," she agreed. "Dear Mrs. Hornby is a little diffuse and difficultto keep to one subject; but you must be indulgent to her littlefailings; you would be if you had experienced such kindness andgenerosity from her as I have."
"I am sure I should," I rejoined; "in fact, I am. After all, a littlediffuseness of speech and haziness of ideas are no great faults in agenerous and amiable woman of her age."
Miss Gibson rewarded me for these highly correct sentiments with alittle smile of approval, and we walked on for some time in silence.Presently she turned to me with some suddenness and a very earnestexpression, and said--
"I want to ask you a question, Dr. Jervis, and please forgive me if Ibeg you to put aside your professional reserve just a little in myfavour. I want you to tell me if you think Dr. Thorndyke has any kind ofhope or expectation of being able to save poor Reuben from the dreadfulperil that threatens him."
This was a rather pointed question, and I took some time to consider itbefore replying.
"I should like," I replied at length, "to tell you as much as my duty tomy colleague will allow me to; but that is so little that it is hardlyworth telling. However, I may say this without breaking any confidence:Dr. Thorndyke has undertaken the case and is working hard at it, and hewould, most assuredly, have done neither the one nor the other if he hadconsidered it a hopeless one."
"That is a very encouraging view of the matter," said she, "which, had,however, already occurred to me. May I ask if anything came of yourvisit to Scotland Yard? Oh, please don't think me encroaching; I am soterribly anxious and troubled."
"I can tell you very little about the results of our expedition, for Iknow very little; but I have an idea that Dr. Thorndyke is notdissatisfied with his morning's work. He certainly picked up some facts,though I have no idea of their nature, and as soon as we reached home hedeveloped a sudden desire to examine the 'Thumbograph.'"
"Thank you, Dr. Jervis," she said gratefully. "You have cheered me morethan I can tell you, and I won't ask you any more questions. Are yousure I am not bringing you out of the way?"
"Not at all," I answered hastily. "The fact is, I had hoped to have alittle chat with you when we had disposed of the 'Thumbograph,' so I canregard myself as combining a little business with a great deal ofpleasure if I am allowed to accompany you."
She gave me a little ironical bow as she inquired--
"And, in short, I may take it that I am to be pumped?"
"Come, now," I retorted. "You have been plying the pump handle prettyvigorously yourself. But that is not my meaning at all. You see, we areabsolute strangers to all the parties concerned in this case, which, ofcourse, makes for an impartial estimate of their characters. But, afterall, knowledge is more useful to us than impartiality. There is ourclient, for instance. He impressed us both very favourably, I think; buthe might have been a plausible rascal with the blackest of records. Thenyou come and tell us that he is a gentleman of stainless character andwe are at once on firmer ground."
"I see," said Miss Gibson thoughtfully; "and suppose that I or some oneelse had told you things that seemed to reflect on his character. Wouldthey have influenced you in your attitude towards him?"
"Only in this," I replied; "that we should have made it our business toinquire into the truth of those reports and ascertain their origin."
"That is what one should always do, I suppose," said she, still with anair of deep thoughtfulness which encouraged me to inquire--
"May I ask if anyone to your knowledge has ever said anything to Mr.Reuben's disadvantage?"
She pondered for some time before replying, and kept her eyes bentpensively on the ground. At length she said, not without some hesitationof manner--
"It is a small thing and quite without any bearing on this affair. Butit has been a great trouble to me since it has to some extent put abarrier between Reuben and me; and we used to be such close friends. AndI have blamed myself for letting it influence me--perhaps unjustly--inmy opinion of him. I will tell you about it, though I expect you willthink me very foolish.
"You must know, then, that Reuben and I used, until about six monthsago, to be very much together, though we were only friends, youunderstand. But we were on the footing of relatives, so there wasnothing out of the way in it. Reuben is a keen student of ancient andmediaeval art, in which I also am much interested, so we used to visitthe museums and galleries together and get a great deal of pleasure fromcompar
ing our views and impressions of what we saw.
"About six months ago, Walter took me aside one day and, with a veryserious face, asked me if there was any kind of understanding betweenReuben and me. I thought it rather impertinent of him, but nevertheless,I told him the truth, that Reuben and I were just friends and nothingmore.
"'If that is the case,' said he, looking mighty grave, 'I would adviseyou not to be seen about with him quite so much.'
"'And why not?' I asked very naturally.
"'Why, the fact is,' said Walter, 'that Reuben is a confounded fool. Hehas been chattering to the men at the club and seems to have given themthe impression that a young lady of means and position has been settingher cap at him very hard, but that he, being a high-souled philosopherabove the temptations that beset ordinary mortals, is superior both toher blandishments and her pecuniary attractions. I give you the hint foryour own guidance,' he continued, 'and I expect this to go no farther.You mustn't be annoyed with Reuben. The best of young men will oftenbehave like prigs and donkeys, and I have no doubt the fellows havegrossly exaggerated what he said; but I thought it right to put you onyour guard.'
"Now this report, as you may suppose, made me excessively angry, and Iwanted to have it out with Reuben then and there. But Walter refused tosanction this--'there was no use in making a scene' he said--and heinsisted that the caution was given to me in strict confidence; so whatwas I to do? I tried to ignore it and treat Reuben as I always had done,but this I found impossible; my womanly pride was much too deeply hurt.And yet I felt it the lowest depth of meanness to harbour such thoughtsof him without giving him the opportunity to defend himself. Andalthough it was most unlike Reuben in some respects, it was very likehim in others; for he has always expressed the utmost contempt for menwho marry for a livelihood. So I have remained on the horns of a dilemmaand am there still. What do you think I ought to have done?"
I rubbed my chin in some embarrassment at this question. Needless tosay, I was most disagreeably impressed by Walter Hornby's conduct, andnot a little disposed to blame my fair companion for giving an ear tohis secret disparagement of his cousin; but I was obviously not in aposition to pronounce, offhand, upon the merits of the case.
"The position appears to be this," I said, after a pause, "either Reubenhas spoken most unworthily and untruthfully of you, or Walter has lieddeliberately about him."
"Yes," she agreed, "that is the position; but which of the twoalternatives appears to you the more probable?"
"That is very difficult to say," I answered. "There is a certain kind ofcad who is much given to boastful rhodomontade concerning his conquests.We all know him and can generally spot him at first sight, but I mustsay that Reuben Hornby did not strike me as that kind of man at all.Then it is clear that the proper course for Walter to have adopted, ifhe had really heard such rumours, was to have had the matter out withReuben, instead of coming secretly to you with whispered reports. Thatis my feeling, Miss Gibson, but, of course, I may be quite wrong. Igather that our two young friends are not inseparable companions?"
"Oh, they are very good friends, but you see, their interests and viewsof life are quite different. Reuben, although an excellent worker inbusiness hours, is a student, or perhaps rather what one would call ascholar, whereas Walter is more a practical man of affairs--decidedlylong-headed and shrewd. He is undoubtedly very clever, as Mrs. Hornbysaid."
"He takes photographs, for instance," I suggested.
"Yes. But not ordinary amateur photographs; his work is more technicaland quite excellent of its kind. For example, he did a most beautifulseries of micro-photographs of sections of metalliferous rocks which hereproduced for publication by the collotype process, and even printedoff the plates himself."
"I see. He must be a very capable fellow."
"He is, very," she assented, "and very keen on making a position; but Iam afraid he is rather too fond of money for its own sake, which is nota pleasant feature in a young man's character, is it?"
I agreed that it was not.
"Excessive keenness in money affairs," proceeded Miss Gibson oracularly,"is apt to lead a young man into bad ways--oh, you need not smile, Dr.Jervis, at my wise saws; it is perfectly true, and you know it. The factis, I sometimes have an uneasy feeling that Walter's desire to be richinclines him to try what looks like a quick and easy method of makingmoney. He had a friend--a Mr. Horton--who is a dealer on the StockExchange and who 'operates' rather largely--'operate' I believe is theexpression used, although it seems to be nothing more than commongambling--and I have more than once suspected Walter of being concernedin what Mr. Horton calls 'a little flutter.'"
"That doesn't strike me as a very long-headed proceeding," I remarked,with the impartial wisdom of the impecunious, and therefore untempted.
"No," she agreed, "it isn't. But your gambler always thinks he is goingto win--though you mustn't let me give you the impression that Walter isa gambler. But here is my destination. Thank you for escorting me sofar, and I hope you are beginning to feel less like a stranger to theHornby family. We shall make our appearance to-night at eightpunctually."
She gave me her hand with a frank smile and tripped up the steps leadingto the street door; and when I glanced back, after crossing the road,she gave me a little friendly nod as she turned to enter the house.
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