The Hunchback of Westminster

by William Le Queux

slippery andsuspicious as Zouche?" I questioned sternly. "Think for a moment whatit means to your own future if you fail."

  "I shall not fail," said Casteno decisively, starting to make a bee linefor the trap-door, through which he had entered the recess. "I havetracked scores of men in my time in the old, wild days in Mexico, whento be discovered as a spy meant that you were caught up by a lasso andstrung to the nearest tree, whilst sympathising neighbours tookpot-shots at you out of their revolvers. Just trust to me, and go andconduct Camille Velasquon from the vessel I mentioned to St Bruno's inHampstead--that will require all your nerve, your daring, and yourresolution!"

  "But how shall I know how you get on? When shall I hear from you?Through what channel can we arrange a course of combined action?" Iqueried.

  "I will communicate with you on your return from Southampton at youroffice in Stanton Street. If I can write to you I will. Otherwise Iwill have recourse to the telegraph office. But have no fear. I knowthe hunchback too well of old to let this slippery card pass through myfingers a moment sooner than I intend he should." And with thesestrangely suggestive words he waved me an adieu, and next second haddisappeared.

  Time, too, was much too precious to waste. Already, as the Spaniard hadengaged me in this conversation, I had caught the sounds of movement andconsultation in the room beneath, and, although I would have dearlyliked to learn how he could ever have met Zouche in such intimatecircumstances as he indicated, and also what was the secret of hisstartling likeness to Paul, that wicked-looking youth beneath, Irealised that I needed every second to watch the chief actor in ourdrama, the hunchback. So again I bent over the hole in the ceiling, andagain I peered into the misty depths of the parlour and watched whatthis pair of scoundrels were up to.

  By this time it seemed that Zouche had nearly completed all hispreparations for departure, and was merely filling in the last fewseconds by cramming a few sandwiches into the capacious pockets of hisovercoat, whilst the tired-looking youth emptied some whiskey from thebottle on the sideboard into a flask.

  The next moment the hunchback pulled his felt hat down tightly over hisforehead, practically concealing the whole of his features, andsnatching the flask, which was now full, he nodded a quick farewell tohis companion and then hurried off. Almost immediately afterwards Iheard the side door bang, and I realised that the dwarf had really gone,and I was free to set off on that curious trip to Southampton.

  CHAPTER TEN.

  THE LADY FROM MEXICO.

  As I rose, however, from my crouching position quite a startling climaxto that morning's adventure occurred. All at once I caught sight of therecess in which was concealed the steel box containing the manuscriptforgeries, and I saw in a flash what an excellent move it would be forme to remove the thing to a place where I could conveniently lay handsupon it whenever I wanted it. In imagination I pictured the surprise ofthe Jesuit spies, for instance, when they had disgorged large sums toMaster Paul downstairs, only to find, when the youth reached out for thedeeds, they had vanished! Indeed, I am afraid I chuckled quite loudlywhen I whipped out my jack-knife and attacked the thin boarding thatshut me off from this imitation treasure, so excellent did I conceivethis act as a piece of pure inoffensive humour. Fate, too, aided me inthe business, for in less than five minutes I had not only got at theprecious casket but had forced the steel lid, taken out the forgeriesand wrapped them up in a piece of canvas, which I placed in my pocket,and pushed the box back, but I had actually slipped out of myhiding-place and crept down the stairs to the shop, the front door ofwhich luckily stood open.

  In fact, it was not until I had got into a cab and was whirling away inthe direction of Lambeth Bridge that I really appreciated what a daringthing I had done. Then I lay back in my seat and chuckled loudly.

  Waterloo Station, as usual, was crowded with people hastening to one orother race meeting, a river excursion, or a boat special, but I managedto get a cosy corner in a first-class carriage of the express forSouthampton, and was soon clattering through Vauxhall and ClaphamJunction, hard on my journey to the Solent.

  At first I admit I was too excited by the stirring scenes I had passedthrough to think of anything else--even Casteno's mysterious sharpeningof his dagger, his disappearance from my office, and the brutalslaughter of Colonel Napier's spaniel. But the steady roar of thetrain, the ceaseless throb of the engine, soon calmed my mind andsteadied my nerve, and I caught himself wondering what kind of girlcould be this Camille Velasquon whom I had undertaken to meet. Shecould scarcely be an ordinary type of girl, I was certain, to beassociated in any measure with Jose Casteno.

  In point of fact, I eventually decided that she must be a veryextraordinary girl altogether to cross from Mexico to England merelywith certain valuable papers for that weird organisation of monks, theOrder of St Bruno. Further than that I don't think I was able to makeup my mind. All that suggested danger to her, an attempt at abduction,and so forth--which, remember, Casteno had warned me against--I own Icould not appreciate. It is always hard to believe that perils likethose lurk in this calm, peaceful England of ours. Yet they do, as Iwas destined to find very soon to my cost.

  After this I supposed I must have napped for a time, for when next Ilooked out of the carriage window I found that the train was slowing itsspeed preparatory to entering Southampton. Luckily, the carriage I wasin contained no other passengers, and I was able to pull myself togetherand munch a few biscuits before I had to hasten across the road outsidethe station and to march through the big dock gates, guarded by a burlyconstable, to that corner where incoming royal mail steamers are alwaysberthed.

  As it happened, the _Atrato_ had not yet put in an appearance, and therewere the usual crowds of anxious relatives, husbands, sweethearts, andloafers on the dock side, some brimming over with enjoyment at theprospect of near meetings with their loved ones, others looking nervousand fretful, as though they were the bearers of bad tidings to thereturned exiles, or at all events feared the news which the incomingfriends were carrying.

  One woman in particular attracted my attention--a tall, commandingfigure in black, in widow's weeds, but with two of the most evil-lookingeyes I had ever seen. Somehow this creature fascinated me. Her walk;her hands, which, luckily, were destitute of gloves; her expression onher thin, tightly-pressed lips; the cut of her chin when she raised herveil to get a better view of the approaching vessel, all told theirstriking yet deeply suggestive tale of character revealed by externals.And the tale was in every respect the same: the woman was bad, throughand through.

  "Who on earth can she have come to meet?" I asked myself, with thecuriosity that besets most observant folk in crowds when an awkwardpause has come and there is nothing to do but to wait with what patienceone can find, eager to pick up any casual amusement. "Not a husband,certainly, nor a lover, for in that case she would never parade thosesable garments with so much unction. It must be a friend of some sort,but then who would, or could, be a friend to so diabolical a creature asthat is, even to look at?"

  Just then the excitement of the boat's arrival caught up the crowd, andI had all my attention engaged in my own work, in piloting myself wellto the front, in rushing across the gangway on to the vessel, and by ajudicious bribe of half-a-sovereign getting one of the stewards toconduct me straight away to the girl I was in search of--Miss CamilleVelasquon--who greeted me with one of the prettiest and most honest ofSpanish faces I had ever seen, and who shook my hand as warmly as thoughwe had been friends in the long ago, for years and years. In age shecould not, certainly, have been more than twenty, but there was acertain air of good style about her and her clothes that suggestedwealth and a consciousness of considerable social importance.

  "Jose telegraphed me and told me to rely on you," she whispered in a lowvoice, "and I will. As a matter of fact, I have carefully studied allthe other first-class passengers and there is no one amongst them whomwe need fear, so we must look for enemies amongst the people on the dockside."

  "I
think I can protect you all right," I replied, with a smile as brightand infectious as her own. "But take my arm, look as though youbelonged to me, as if we were brother and sister, in point of fact.What about your luggage?"

  "That will be sent on," she returned quickly, stepping out bravelybeside me. "I arranged all that with the stewardess, who for the timewill treat it as her own. I knew time pressed, and so I did all I couldto facilitate my departure."

  "Then let us make the most of your foresight," I said, and elbowing ourway through the crowd the pair of us passed quickly out of the dock andsoon hid ourselves in the refreshment room of the station, from which wepassed rapidly to a slow train, which a porter explained wouldeventually land us in London, but would take four hours over theprocess.

  "It is safety before speed we must study at this point," I whispered tomy