Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

by B. L. Farjeon

  CHAPTER XV.

  DICK COMES TO AN ARRANGEMENT WITH CONSTABLE POND.

  "Dear me, sir!" said Mrs. Pond, who had noticed that he had turnedpale. "Are you taken ill?"

  "It is nothing, nothing," replied Dick, hurriedly, and contradictedhimself by adding, "It must be the perfume on this handkerchief. Thereare perfumes that make me feel faint."

  "I don't think there's any scent on it, sir," said Mrs. Pond,"leastways, I didn't notice any. Some scents do have that effect uponpeople. There's a cousin of mine who faints dead away at the smell ofa hot boiled egg. There's no accounting for things, is there, sir?"

  "No, there's not. May I ask if you got this handkerchief from the ladywhose name is marked on it?"

  "Oh, no, sir. Pond gave it me."

  "Did _he_ obtain it from the lady?"

  "There!" exclaimed Mrs. Pond. "That's just what I said to him. We hada regular scene. 'You're jealous, Polly,' he said, laughing, and heworked me up so that I as good as threw it in the fire. Then he toldme that he knew no more about the lady than I did, and that he pickedit up in the street."

  "Whereabouts, Mrs. Pond?"

  "He didn't say, sir. It's pretty, ain't it? Quite a lady's. Ishouldn't have minded if he'd picked up a dozen of 'em. I've got anaunt who is always picking up things. It commenced when she was alittle girl. She found a farthing that had been sanded over, andthinking it was a golden sovereign she went into a milk-shop and askedfor change. She cried her eyes out when they told her what it was,There's hardly a week she don't find something. Some people are madethat way, sir."

  "Yes, yes," said Dick, rather impatiently, "is your husband in thehouse? I should like to see him."

  "I expect him home every minute, sir. Why, there he is, opening thestreet door just as we're talking of him. If you'll excuse me, sir,I'll run down to him."

  "Do. And ask him to be kind enough to come up and speak to me."

  She nodded, and ran from the room with a light step, leaving thehandkerchief behind her in her haste to tell her husband that she hadgot a lodger; and presently Constable Pond's heavier step was heard onthe stairs. His face beamed with satisfaction when Dick, stepping intothe passage, invited him into the room.

  "Can I believe my eyes, sir!" he exclaimed. "This is what I call adownright piece of good luck. Well, I _am_ glad to see you here, sir!"His eyes fell upon the handkerchief in Dick's hand. "If I don'tmistake, that's the handkerchief my missis left behind her. She askedme to fetch it down to her."

  "It is about this handkerchief I wish to speak to you," said Dick;"and for the sake of all parties, Constable Pond, it is as well thatour conversation should be private and confidential."

  "Certainly, sir," said Constable Pond, his countenance falling at theunusual gravity of Dick's voice and manner.

  "She told me you picked it up in the street."

  "She told you true, sir."

  Now did Constable Pond feel the sting of conscience; now did itwhisper that he had been guilty of a breach of duty in not depositingthe handkerchief at the police station, with an account of how he cameby it; now did the thought of certain penalties afflict him. Here wasDick Remington, Inspector Robson's own nephew, opening up a case withthe unuttered words, "From information received."

  "I have a particular reason for wishing to know where, and when, andunder what circumstances, you found it," said Dick.

  "It won't go beyond this room, I hope, sir. You won't use theinformation against me?"

  "I give you my word I will not."

  "I ought to have handed it in and made my report," said ConstablePond, with a rueful air, "but I didn't think there was any harm in mygiving it to the missis. Applebee and me were in Catchpole Square lastnight, and he was talking of shadders when he thought he saw one. Herun across and caught hold of it, but it slipped from him and was gonelike a flash. He called to me and we ran after it through Deadman'sCourt; we couldn't see which way we were going, so we knocked ourheads together, and my helmet fell off. I stooped to pick it up, andthere was the handkerchief underneath it. If I had considered a momentI shouldn't have put it in my pocket, but we don't always do the thingwe ought."

  "You did not tell Applebee that you had found anything?"

  "No, sir, I did not, and sorry enough I am for it now. It sha'n'toccur again, I promise you."

  "As the matter has gone so far without anybody knowing anything aboutit but ourselves, I don't see the necessity of mentioning it toanyone."

  "If such is your wish, sir," said Constable Pond, gaining confidence,"it sha'n't be."

  "And tell your wife not to speak about it."

  "I'll tell her, sir."

  "Because you see, Mr. Pond, as it is too late to undo what's done, itmight get you into trouble."

  "I see that, sir," said Constable Pond, ruefully.

  "So there's an end of the matter. As for the handkerchief I'll takepossession of it, and if it should happen that any question is raisedconcerning it--of which there is not the least probability--I will saythat _I_ found it. That will clear you entirely."

  "I'm ever so much obliged to you for getting me out of the mess," saidConstable Pond.

  Shaking hands with him, Dick accompanied him downstairs, and afterreceiving the latchkey and exchanging a few pleasant words with Mrs.Pond, he left the house greatly troubled in his mind.

  "There's more in this than meets the eye, Polly," said Constable Pond,when he had explained to her what had passed between him and Dick."That young fellow spoke fair and square, but he's got something uphis sleeve, for all that."

  "Oh, you silly!" answered Mrs. Pond. "_I_ know what he's got up hissleeve."

  "Do you, now?" said Constable Pond, refreshing himself with a kiss."Well, if that don't beat everything! Give it a name, old girl."

  "Why, a sweetheart, you goose, and her name's Florence. He's goingstraight to her this minute."

  "Is he? Then I hope she'll be able to satisfy him why she was inCatchpole Square last night--always supposing that it was her asdropped the handkerchief there."

  Mrs. Pond was not far wrong, for Dick was now on his way to Aunt Rob'shouse, in the hope of seeing Florence, over whom some trouble seemedto be hanging. He tried in vain to rid himself of the belief that itwas Florence whom Constable Applebee had surprised in CatchpoleSquare; all the probabilities pointed that way. In heaven's name whattook her there at that hour of the night? Search his mind as he might,he could find no answer to the question. The handkerchief was hers,but there were a hundred ways of accounting for its being in thepossession of another woman. Still, the longer he thought the heavierseemed to grow the weight of circumstantial evidence. Fearing he knewnot what he accelerated his steps, as if swiftness of motion wouldward off the mysterious danger which threatened the woman he adored,the woman who could never be his, but for whose dear sake he wouldhave shed his heart's blood.