The Hunchback of Westminster
Page 42
to a child of six.
"You will find out all the geography you care to learn in the policestation," he said, stiffly repressing a very obvious temptation to swearroundly; "for the present you must consider yourself under arrest." Andhe beckoned one of his men from a distance and told him to go to StBruno's and to ask for Jose Casteno, who joined us a few moments later,clad in ordinary clothes, and was then told of the charge against us,whilst I perched myself on the root of a fallen tree and went on puffingaway at my cigarette.
"Now," said Naylor in conclusion, much impressed by the manner of hisown eloquence, "if you two gentlemen don't mind, one of my mates willfetch a four-wheeler, and we'll drive off to Bow Street."
"Do," I put in, "it will be warmer there than it is here." And Ipretended to shiver as I added: "It seems to me, Naylor, there is alwaysa cold streak in the air on Hampstead Heath; don't you think so?"
The man shot me a look charged with malice and uncharitableness. But hedid not take the bait. "I have," he went on with a certain amount ofhesitation, "a search warrant, duly executed to go over that housethere--St Bruno's. Of course, I don't want to make myself needlesslyunpleasant, so if you would like to hand over the manuscripts, thesubjects of the charge against you, I will not put it into execution."
Jose looked at me, and I looked at him. We would both of us have dearlyliked to have palmed off those forgeries upon this short-temperedindividual; but it would not do.
"We know nothing about your business," I said slowly, and, taking mycue, my friend nodded in support. "You must do really what strikes youas the best; but," and the inspector's eyes glittered, expecting someconcession or admission, "don't--don't ask us any questions," I addedsweetly, "for that is beyond your duty and outside your place."
With a muffled curse Naylor turned on his heel and despatched amessenger for the cab he had mentioned. Then he summoned two or threeother constables, handed them certain documents, and whispered to themquickly certain instructions. Afterwards a four-wheeler drove up, andgiving our words that we would make no effort to escape, the three of usstepped inside, and began that long and tedious journey to Bow Street.
The most weary rides, however, come to an end some time--and so didthis. At length the police station was reached, and we all walkedboldly into the charge office, where the warrant was read over to us, towhich we made no reply, of course; and, pending our formal remand by amagistrate, I begged and obtained permission that we should be bothplaced in the same cell. In answer to the usual question: Did we wishto communicate with any legal advisers or friends? both Casteno and Isaid: "Yes." After a whispered consultation we decided on this plan ofaction. I sent this telegram:
"Cooper-Nassington, _House of Commons, SW_.
"Casteno and I have been arrested on extraordinary charge of robberywith violence, and lodged at Bow Street. Please see hunchback andexplain error, and do your best to secure our immediate release.--HughGlynn."
"It will not, then, be my fault if the round-table conference fails tocome off," I reasoned. But at the bottom of my heart, I own, I feltstrangely disturbed at the turn affairs had taken. I could not ridmyself of some curious suspicion that Lord Fotheringay and his friendshad got some new trick to work, and that, after all, we might be now,quite unconsciously, riding for a nasty fall.
Casteno himself elected to appeal to Lord Cyril, and after we had beenboth searched and had all our valuables taken from us he was permittedto take a sheet of notepaper and to write as follows:--
"_Bow Street Police Station_.
"Dear Lord Cyril,--The matter is too serious for me to stand on anyceremony with you, and, therefore, I write quite straightforwardly toyou, to report what you will doubtless hear in the course of yourofficial duties--that Mr Hugh Glynn, the Secret Investigator, andmyself have been arrested, and are now detained at the above address onsome trumped-up charge of stealing certain manuscripts from my father onWorcester Racecourse.
"This action of the authorities, of course, quite precludes all chanceof our meeting you and Colonel and Miss Napier and Lord Fotheringay atStanton Street to-night. I put it to you now quite pointedly whether itis to the welfare of England that this interview should not take place?
"I suggest that you see the Home Secretary and get this action quashed.Otherwise, please regard our offer to treat with you as withdrawn, and,if necessary, we shall appeal to His Majesty the King himself, to seethat there is no party jugglery with so vital a national issue as thisrecovery of the sacred lake of Tangikano. As to the charge of theft andassault, that, of course, is absurd, and must fail.
"Yours obediently, Jose Zouche Casteno."
This note was read very carefully by the officers in charge of thestation. But they had evidently received some secret instructions aboutus, for they pretended to treat it quite as an ordinary and commonplacecommunication, and permitted Casteno himself to enclose it in anenvelope and hand it to a constable to carry to the Foreign Office.
Then we were conducted to a cell and left to our own devices, and for atime we kept ourselves lively enough, speculating on what would be theissue of the strong commanding line we had taken.
But as hour after hour slipped by and we received no sign from the outerworld our hearts began to sink within us. Maybe, too, the atmosphere ofthat small, tightly-barred cell, with its narrow walls and depressingsuggestions, had its baneful effect upon us. At all events, a sensationof fear seemed to seize us. We felt caged--bound--removed from thelive, throbbing world of action to which we had grown so accustomed, andthen, thus deprived of movement, we insensibly began to languish. Allat once we realised what freedom really means--that it yields of itselfa thousand pleasures, as a fish is surrounded by the unconscioussustenances of the sea.
Finally, as the night began to close in, a heavy step was heard in thewhitewashed passage outside, and the wicket door was thrust open.
"Here is tea for two," cried a gruff voice, "also a letter for JoseCasteno." And I hastened to the entrance and received a tray on whichstood two coarse mugs of tea and three or four huge slabs of realpolice-station bread and butter.
Trembling with excitement Casteno seized the letter that had beenbrought for him and tore open the envelope, on the flap of which wasembossed in red the Royal Arms, with the words "Foreign Office" let intothe outer circle. Then he unfolded the note, which, in response to agesture from him, I read over his shoulder.
"_Foreign Office, Whitehall, SW_.
"Sir,--I am desired by His Majesty's Secretary of State for ForeignAffairs to acknowledge your letter of this day's date and to inform youthat the subject-matter thereof has no connection with him in either apersonal or official capacity.
"I have the honour to remain, Sir, Your most obedient servant, ReginaldWyke, Assistant Secretary.
"_To_ Jose Zouche Casteno, The Police Station, Bow Street, WC."
"What a terrible snub," I cried, pushing the tray on to the woodenbedstead. "What can it mean?"
"They've done us, that's all," panted Casteno, his eyes flashing withindignation. "Either they've got hold of the manuscripts when theysearched St Bruno's, or we've been sold in some fashion we leastexpect."
"Is it Cooper-Nassington?" I hazarded. "Remember, I have had no replyto my telegram!"
"I don't know," said the Spaniard, gloomily beginning to pace up anddown the cell. "We must wait, I suppose, before we can see. At presentwe've played our cards to the bitter end, and we've got nowhere."
"How about the king?" I queried nervously.
"We can do nothing there until we see what Cooper-Nassington hasdeveloped into." He relapsed into moody reflection. For a few minuteswe did not exchange a word, and then, stopping his restless promenadesuddenly, he gripped me excitedly by the arm. "I've got it," he cried,"I've got it. Deserted by all, we'll try the Jesuits."
"And sell England, I suppose," I answered coldly. "Not a bit of it."
"Oh no. We shall thus procure even more powerful adherents for Englandthan even Lord Cyril is
. We will strike a bargain with them, to sidewith us."
"You won't succeed," I said.
"I will," he thundered, and he caught the chain attached to a prisoner'sbell and rung it violently.
"Mind," I returned impressively, "you do this thing against my betterjudgment, and when you know for a fact that the Jesuits have been askeen almost to get hold of these documents as we have. Bad as ourplight is now, I am sure it will be a thousand times worse after youhave entrusted our secrets to these subtle sons of St Ignatius. Makeno mistake. Understand you have been warned, and that you do this thingwith your eyes wide