The Red Thumb Mark

by R. Austin Freeman

  CHAPTER VII

  SHOALS AND QUICKSANDS

  When I arrived at Endsley Gardens, Miss Gibson was at home, and to myunspeakable relief, Mrs. Hornby was not. My veneration for that lady'smoral qualities was excessive, but her conversation drove me to theverge of insanity--an insanity not entirely free from homicidaltendencies.

  "It is good of you to come--though I thought you would," Miss Gibsonsaid impulsively, as we shook hands. "You have been so sympathetic andhuman--both you and Dr. Thorndyke--so free from professional stiffness.My aunt went off to see Mr. Lawley directly we got Walter's telegram."

  "I am sorry for her," I said (and was on the point of adding "and him,"but fortunately a glimmer of sense restrained me); "she will find himdry enough."

  "Yes; I dislike him extremely. Do you know that he had the impudence toadvise Reuben to plead 'guilty'?"

  "He told us he had done so, and got a well-deserved snubbing fromThorndyke for his pains."

  "I am so glad," exclaimed Miss Gibson viciously. "But tell me what hashappened. Walter simply said 'Transferred to higher court,' which weagreed was to mean, 'Committed for trial.' Has the defence failed? Andwhere is Reuben?"

  "The defence is reserved. Dr. Thorndyke considered it almost certainthat the case would be sent for trial, and that being so, decided thatit was essential to keep the prosecution in the dark as to the line ofdefence. You see, if the police knew what the defence was to be theycould revise their own plans accordingly."

  "I see that," said she dejectedly, "but I am dreadfully disappointed. Ihad hoped that Dr. Thorndyke would get the case dismissed. What hashappened to Reuben?"

  This was the question that I had dreaded, and now that I had to answerit I cleared my throat and bent my gaze nervously on the floor.

  "The magistrate refused bail," I said after an uncomfortable pause.

  "Well?"

  "Consequently Reuben has been--er--detained in custody."

  "You don't mean to say that they have sent him to prison?" she exclaimedbreathlessly.

  "Not as a convicted prisoner, you know. He is merely detained pendinghis trial."

  "But in prison?"

  "Yes," I was forced to admit; "in Holloway prison."

  She looked me stonily in the face for some seconds, pale and wide-eyed,but silent; then, with a sudden catch in her breath, she turned away,and, grasping the edge of the mantel-shelf, laid her head upon her armand burst into a passion of sobbing.

  Now I am not, in general, an emotional man, nor even especiallyimpulsive; but neither am I a stock or a stone or an effigy of wood;which I most surely must have been if I could have looked without beingdeeply moved on the grief, so natural and unselfish, of this strong,brave, loyal-hearted woman. In effect, I moved to her side and, gentlytaking in mine the hand that hung down, murmured some incoherent wordsof consolation in a particularly husky voice.

  Presently she recovered herself somewhat and softly withdrew her hand,as she turned towards me drying her eyes.

  "You must forgive me for distressing you, as I fear I have," she said;"for you are so kind, and I feel that you are really my friend andReuben's."

  "I am indeed, dear Miss Gibson," I replied, "and so, I assure you, is mycolleague."

  "I am sure of it," she rejoined. "But I was so unprepared for this--Icannot say why, excepting that I trusted so entirely in Dr.Thorndyke--and it is so horrible and, above all, so dreadfullysuggestive of what may happen. Up to now the whole thing has seemed likea nightmare--terrifying, but yet unreal. But now that he is actually inprison, it has suddenly become a dreadful reality and I am overwhelmedwith terror. Oh! poor boy! What will become of him? For pity's sake, Dr.Jervis, tell me what is going to happen."

  What could I do? I had heard Thorndyke's words of encouragement toReuben and knew my colleague well enough to feel sure that he meant allhe had said. Doubtless my proper course would have been to keep my owncounsel and put Miss Gibson off with cautious ambiguities. But I couldnot; she was worthy of more confidence than that.

  "You must not be unduly alarmed about the future," I said. "I have itfrom Dr. Thorndyke that he is convinced of Reuben's innocence, and ishopeful of being able to make it clear to the world. But I did not havethis to repeat," I added, with a slight qualm of conscience.

  "I know," she said softly, "and I thank you from my heart."

  "And as to this present misfortune," I continued, "you must not let itdistress you too much. Try to think of it as of a surgical operation,which is a dreadful thing in itself, but is accepted in lieu ofsomething which is immeasurably more dreadful."

  "I will try to do as you tell me," she answered meekly; "but it is soshocking to think of a cultivated gentleman like Reuben, herded withcommon thieves and murderers, and locked in a cage like some wildanimal. Think of the ignominy and degradation!"

  "There is no ignominy in being wrongfully accused," I said--a littleguiltily, I must own, for Thorndyke's words came back to me with alltheir force. But regardless of this I went on: "An acquittal willrestore him to his position with an unstained character, and nothing butthe recollection of a passing inconvenience to look back upon."

  She gave her eyes a final wipe, and resolutely put away herhandkerchief.

  "You have given me back my courage," she said, "and chased away myterror. I cannot tell you how I feel your goodness, nor have I anythank-offering to make, except the promise to be brave and patienthenceforth, and trust in you entirely."

  She said this with such a grateful smile, and looked withal so sweet andwomanly that I was seized with an overpowering impulse to take her in myarms. Instead of this I said with conscious feebleness: "I am more thanthankful to have been able to give you any encouragement--which you mustremember comes from me second-hand, after all. It is to Dr. Thorndykethat we all look for ultimate deliverance."

  "I know. But it is you who came to comfort me in my trouble, so, yousee, the honours are divided--and not divided quite equally, I fear, forwomen are unreasoning creatures, as, no doubt, your experience hasinformed you. I think I hear my aunt's voice, so you had better escapebefore your retreat is cut off. But before you go, you must tell me howand when I can see Reuben. I want to see him at the earliest possiblemoment. Poor fellow! He must not be allowed to feel that his friendshave forgotten him even for a single instant."

  "You can see him to-morrow, if you like," I said; and, casting my goodresolutions to the winds, I added: "I shall be going to see him myself,and perhaps Dr. Thorndyke will go."

  "Would you let me call at the Temple and go with you? Should I be muchin the way? It is rather an alarming thing to go to a prison alone."

  "It is not to be thought of," I answered. "If you will call at theTemple--it is on the way--we can drive to Holloway together. I supposeyou are resolved to go? It will be rather unpleasant, as you areprobably aware."

  "I am quite resolved. What time shall I come to the Temple?"

  "About two o'clock, if that will suit you."

  "Very well. I will be punctual; and now you must go or you will becaught."

  She pushed me gently towards the door and, holding out her hand, said-- "I haven't thanked you half enough and I never can. Good-bye!"

  She was gone, and I stood alone in the street, up which yellowishwreaths of fog were beginning to roll. It had been quite clear andbright when I entered the house, but now the sky was settling down intoa colourless grey, the light was failing and the houses dwindling intodim, unreal shapes that vanished at half their height. Nevertheless Istepped out briskly and strode along at a good pace, as a young man isapt to do when his mind is in somewhat of a ferment. In truth, I had agood deal to occupy my thoughts and, as will often happen both to youngmen and old, those matters that bore most directly upon my own life andprospects were the first to receive attention.

  What sort of relations were growing up between Juliet Gibson and me? Andwhat was my position? As to hers, it seemed plain enough; she waswrapped up in Reuben Hornby and I was her very good friend because I washis.
But for myself, there was no disguising the fact that I wasbeginning to take an interest in her that boded ill for my peace ofmind.

  Never had I met a woman who so entirely realised my conception of what awoman should be, nor one who exercised so great a charm over me. Herstrength and dignity, her softness and dependency, to say nothing of herbeauty, fitted her with the necessary weapons for my complete and uttersubjugation. And utterly subjugated I was--there was no use in denyingthe fact, even though I realised already that the time would presentlycome when she would want me no more and there would remain no remedy forme but to go away and try to forget her.

  But was I acting as a man of honour? To this I felt I could fairlyanswer "yes," for I was but doing my duty, and could hardly actdifferently if I wished to. Besides, I was jeopardising no one'shappiness but my own, and a man may do as he pleases with his ownhappiness. No; even Thorndyke could not accuse me of dishonourableconduct.

  Presently my thoughts took a fresh turn and I began to reflect upon whatI had heard concerning Mr. Hornby. Here was a startling development,indeed, and I wondered what difference it would make in Thorndyke'shypothesis of the crime. What his theory was I had never been able toguess, but as I walked along through the thickening fog I tried to fitthis new fact into our collection of data and determine its bearings andsignificance.

  In this, for a time, I failed utterly. The red thumb-mark filled myfield of vision to the exclusion of all else. To me, as to everyone elsebut Thorndyke, this fact was final and pointed to a conclusion that wasunanswerable. But as I turned the story of the crime over and over,there came to me presently an idea that set in motion a new and verystartling train of thought.

  Could Mr. Hornby himself be the thief? His failure appeared sudden tothe outside world, but he must have seen difficulties coming. There,indeed, was the thumb-mark on the leaf which he had torn from hispocket-block. Yes! but who had seen him tear it off? No one. The factrested on his bare statement.

  But the thumb-mark? Well, it was possible (though unlikely)--stillpossible--that the mark might have been made accidentally on someprevious occasion and forgotten by Reuben, or even unnoticed. Mr. Hornbyhad seen the "Thumbograph," in fact his own mark was in it, and so wouldhave had his attention directed to the importance of finger-prints inidentification. He might have kept the marked paper for future use, and,on the occasion of the robbery, pencilled a dated inscription on it, andslipped it into the safe as a sure means of diverting suspicion. Allthis was improbable in the highest degree, but then so was every otherexplanation of the crime; and as to the unspeakable baseness of thedeed, what action is too base for a gambler in difficulties?

  I was so much excited and elated by my own ingenuity in having formed anintelligible and practicable theory of the crime, that I was nowimpatient to reach home that I might impart my news to Thorndyke and seehow they affected him. But as I approached the centre of the town thefog grew so dense that all my attention was needed to enable me tothread my way safely through the traffic; while the strange, deceptiveaspect that it lent to familiar objects and the obliteration oflandmarks made my progress so slow that it was already past six o'clockwhen I felt my way down Middle Temple Lane and crept through CrownOffice Row towards my colleague's chambers.

  On the doorstep I found Polton peering with anxious face into the blankexpanse of yellow vapour.

  "The Doctor's late, sir," said he. "Detained by the fog, I expect. Itmust be pretty thick in the Borough."

  (I may mention that, to Polton, Thorndyke was The Doctor. Other inferiorcreatures there were, indeed, to whom the title of "doctor" in a way,appertained; but they were of no account in Polton's eyes. Surnames weregood enough for them.)

  "Yes, it must be," I replied, "judging by the condition of the Strand."

  I entered and ascended the stairs, glad enough of the prospect of a warmand well-lighted room after my comfortless groping in the murky streets,and Polton, with a final glance up and down the walk reluctantlyfollowed.

  "You would like some tea, sir, I expect?" said he, as he let me in(though I had a key of my own now).

  I thought I should, and he accordingly set about the preparations in hisdeft methodical way, but with an air of abstraction that was unusualwith him.

  "The Doctor said he should be home by five," he remarked, as he laid thetea-pot on the tray.

  "Then he is a defaulter," I answered. "We shall have to water his tea."

  "A wonderful punctual man, sir, is the Doctor," pursued Polton. "Keepshis time to the minute, as a rule, he does."

  "You can't keep your time to a minute in a 'London Particular,'" I saida little impatiently, for I wished to be alone that I might think overmatters, and Polton's nervous flutterings irritated me somewhat. He wasalmost as bad as a female housekeeper.

  The little man evidently perceived my state of mind, for he stole awaysilently, leaving me rather penitent and ashamed, and, as I presentlydiscovered on looking out of the window, resumed his vigil on thedoorstep. From this coign of vantage he returned after a time to takeaway the tea-things; and thereafter, though it was now dark as well asfoggy, I could hear him softly flitting up and down the stairs with agloomy stealthiness that at length reduced me to a condition asnervously apprehensive as his own.