The Hunchback of Westminster

by William Le Queux

suddenly, "what ofthose? Are they love letters?" And a quiet smile of derision showeditself at the corners of my mouth. "Do you want them, or are they to gointo the archives of the Order of St Bruno as quaint but interestingcuriosities?"

  "Neither," said Casteno simply. "They are more important, much moreimportant, than lovers' effusions. They give the keys to variousciphers used by the Jesuits in the early days of their Order in Mexico.Is there anything else you would like to ask?" Then seeing he had putme to some confusion he went on with great earnestness: "Look here, man,why don't you trust me a little more? Don't you see that there must, ina quest like this we are engaged upon, be a hundred details about whichI cannot give you my confidence? Why not be content to labour in thedark until the time for the light comes? As it is just at present, Isatisfy you for a day easily and perfectly enough, but it is only for aday. Something you don't expect happens, and lo! I find about me acloud of distrust, suspicion, and unpleasant suggestion that takes outof me every bit of heart and pluck."

  "Is not that your own fault?" I blurted out. "Are not your actionscalculated to excite distrust? Carry your memory back to the last timeyou were in my office in Stanton Street. What happened then?"

  "Nothing of great account." But now he went very pale.

  "Are you quite sure of that?" I queried in the gravest tones. "Thinkagain. Examine your conscience again. What about that dagger of yours?Why did you get up and sharpen it on the hearthstone directly youthought I should not see you?"

  The Spaniard started, and recovered himself with an effort. "Because Ihad had a fright," he stammered. "In an idle moment I had lookedthrough the window and there I saw a man who had vowed to take my life."

  "I cannot believe you," I cried. "You must convince me. Tell me whowas this foe?"

  "My own brother," he muttered, turning away from me with an impatientgesture and quickening his steps. "You have seen him yourself. Thehunchback called him Paul--"

  "Then," I gasped in amazement, "you--you are the hunchback's son?"

  "Of course I am," he retorted. "I thought you guessed that directly yousaw Paul when we were up in that recess watching my father put on hisdisguise. The relationship seemed so evident that I did not feel therewas any necessity to explain it."

  "But you call yourself Casteno?"

  "No; I changed my name after I had quarrelled with my father some yearsago and got employment in the Royal Household of Spain. I purchased theright to do so--"

  "Then you talk English like a native."

  "So does the hunchback."

  "And when that morning you saw your brother," I went on, breaking awayon a new tack, "why did you go after him?"

  "To make peace if I could. As it was doubtful I prepared myself alsofor war."

  "And did you find him?"

  "No; he was too quick for me. I slipped as hard as I could to hischambers in Embankment Mansions in Whitehall Court, but he was not inthem. They were closed and locked."

  "Embankment Mansions in Whitehall Court," I repeated. "That is whereColonel Napier lives." And as I uttered the name of the dead officer Iscrutinised every line on Casteno's face.

  "Of course it is," he responded, and not the smallest sign of excitementdid he exhibit. "Paul, for some years, has had a set of chambers overthe flat occupied by Colonel Napier. He has got one of those wild,hopeless passions that sometimes seize the lowly born for girls in thehigher ranks of life, for Miss Napier."

  "Not Miss Doris Napier!" I interjected.

  "Oh yes, Miss Doris. The thing is almost laughable--except for Paul,who is absolutely crazy on the subject, and who has often told me thaton the day you are formally engaged to her he will shoot you like adog."

  "Pleasant for me," I observed, "extremely pleasant. Your father and Iare old friends; how is it he didn't warn me?"

  "He always hoped that Paul would come to his senses. He was ashamed ofthe lad's madness. He trusted that some other girl would appear on thescene to fascinate Paul. Besides, he did tell Colonel Napier about it.The colonel and he are related, as a matter of fact. Both of themmarried step-sisters; but my mother died many years ago."

  "I had no idea of this."

  "No doubt," returned the Spaniard courteously. "Lovers don't usuallytrouble to inquire as to the relations of the girls they love untilafter marriage. If they did, cynics say that they would sparethemselves a good many highly unpleasant surprises. The colonel, ofcourse, was equally annoyed about this infatuation, and I am told thatonly a few days ago he met Paul on the stairs of the flat and gave him agood beating with his cane for daring to send Miss Napier a bunch offlowers. Perhaps, however, this is only idle gossip. I heard it from aservant whom my father had recently dismissed. He said that Paul was soincensed at this outrage that he would have stabbed the colonel dead onthe spot if he had had his dagger with him. Luckily, he had forgottenthat morning to fasten it on--"

  "I am not so sure about that," I answered slowly and with greatdistinctness, "although, now I came to think of it, I did recollect thatin the old days Doris had told me a good deal about the persecutions shehad suffered from the ridiculous attentions of a foreign boy who livedin the set of rooms above theirs--attentions, I am sorry to say, I hadonly laughed to scorn."

  "Not so sure!" echoed my companion in tones of genuine disgust andhorror. "Why, would you, Mr Glynn, have liked my brother to make anattempt on his uncle's life?"

  "That would have been better than what happened," I returned meaningly.

  "Why, what was that?" cried the Spaniard in alarm.

  "Somebody crept into his bedroom as the colonel slept and stabbed him tothe heart--to be precise, the exact hour you left me to search forPaul."

  "Good heavens!" gasped Casteno, falling back. "Then the wretched boyhas broken loose from his reason and carried out his insane idea ofrevenge! Ah! now I see it all. That was why I caught him lurking aboutyour office! He had tracked Colonel Napier there earlier, and had nonotion that he had returned to Whitehall Court until he saw a strangefigure at your door."

  "Even that doesn't explain who killed the clumber spaniel Fate."

  "I think it does," urged Casteno stoutly. "The dog knew, somehow, hehad done wrong to his master and would not leave him. In a fit ofpassion and terror Paul whipped out his knife and stabbed him."

  "But that would happen near Whitehall Court. How came the dog to die ina passage near Stanton Street?"

  "He must have been making for your office: remember all dogs have oddgleams of foresight at times."

  For a few moments we walked on in silence. The duel had been a sharpone and a long one, but already I was possessed with an uncomfortablesuspicion that the Spaniard had won. Even as I surveyed the ruins of mytheories I was conscious that little was left to connect Casteno withthe murder.

  "But do you think your brother Paul will be discovered?" I asked.

  "I cannot tell," said Casteno, and I could see now he was sincerelygrieved at the disastrous intelligence I had communicated to him."There are sure to be plenty of people in Embankment Mansions who willremember the caning which the lad had from the colonel on the stairs.They will be certain, when they recover their wits, to give the policethe details of that affray; also there is that discharged servant Ispoke of--the man Butterworth. He hates Paul like poison. He willleave no stone unturned, I am certain, to connect the lad with thecrime.

  "Still, mere suspicion is one thing, and evidence strong enough towarrant arrest is another," he added after a moment's carefulconsideration. "Perhaps, after all, I am wrong. Somebody else may havedone it. We shall see."

  "Whoever it is I shall do my best to bring them to justice," I criedhotly. "I don't care whether it is Paul Zouche--"

  "Of course not," replied Casteno with much dignity. "I have no doubtyou will communicate all I have repeated to you to Scotland Yard.Indeed, I never had any two opinions on that score. At the same timeyou must excuse me if I don't evince any keen desire to debate thematter fur
ther."

  "I never asked you to do so," I retorted, anxious not to be outdone incourtesy by the Spaniard. "All your statements to me were practicallyvolunteered."

  "True," said Casteno. "As a matter of fact, I felt they were honestlydue to you. I saw that my absence from your rooms at the time when thecolonel was murdered looked very ugly for me. Very ugly, indeed."

  "Particularly after you had warned the man only an hour previously thatif he didn't