CHAPTER XIX
The spring had blossomed itself out and the summer had bloomed itselfin. The holiday up the river was a thing of the past; the dreams of theDreamer had given place to those sterner phases of life which must becoped with by the Realist; and Cleek was "back in harness" again.
A half-dozen more or less important cases had occupied his time sincehis return; but, although he had carried these to a successful issue andhad again been lauded to the skies by the daily papers, the one word ofpraise from the one quarter whence he so earnestly desired to hear wasnever forthcoming.
Of Ailsa Lorne he had heard not a solitary thing, either directly orindirectly, since that day when he had put her into the taxicab atCharing Cross Station and saw her safely on her way to Hampstead beforehe went his own.
True, her silence was, as he had agreed, an admission that all was wellwith her and that she had secured the position in question; true it wasalso that it was not for her to take the initiative and break thatsilence; that he fully realised how impossible, for a girl born and bredas she had been, to voluntarily open up a correspondence with a man whowas as yet little more than a mere acquaintance; but, all the same, hechafed under that silence and spent many a wakeful hour at nightbrooding on it.
In his heart he knew that if any advance was to be made, that advancewas the man's duty, not the woman's; but the fear that she would thinkhe was thrusting himself upon her, the dread that even yet the whitesoul of her could not but shrink from a closer association with him,kept him from taking one step towards breaking the silence he deplored.
The French have a proverb which says: "It is always the unexpected thathappens." And it was the unexpected that happened in this case.
In the midst of his dejection, in the very depths of returning despair,there came to him this note from Mr. Narkom:
"My Dear Cleek,
"Kindly refrain from going out this evening. I shall call about nineo'clock, bringing with me Miss Ailsa Lorne, whom you doubtless remember,and her present patron, Angela, Countess Chepstow, the young widow ofthat ripping old warhorse, who, as you may recall, quelled thatdangerous and fanatical rising of the Cingalese at Trincomalee. Theseladies wish to see you with reference to a most extraordinary case, aninexplicable mystery, which both they and I believe no man but yourselfcan satisfactorily probe.
"Yours in haste,
"Maverick Narkom."
So, then, he was to see her again, to touch her hand, hear her voice,look into the eyes that had lighted him back from the path todestruction! Cleek's heart began to hammer and his pulses to drum.Needless to say, he took extraordinary care with his toilet thatevening, with the result that when the ladies arrived there was nothingeven vaguely suggestive of the detective about him.
"Oh, Mr. Cleek, do help us--please do," implored Ailsa, after the firstgreetings were over. "Lady Chepstow is almost beside herself with dreadand anxiety over the inexplicable thing, and I have persuaded her thatif anybody on earth can solve the mystery of it, avert the new andappalling danger of it, it is you! Oh, say that you will take the case,say that you will save little Lord Chepstow and put an end to thismaddening mystery!"
"Little Lord Chepstow?" repeated Cleek, glancing over at the countess,who stood, a very Niobe in her grief and despair, holding out twoimploring hands in silent supplication. "That is your ladyship's son, isit not?"
"Yes," she answered, with a sort of wail; "my only son--my only child.All that I have to love--all that I have to live for in this world."
"And you think the little fellow is in peril?"
"Yes--in deadly peril."
"From what source? From whose hand?"
"I don't know--I don't know!" she answered, distractedly. "Sometimes Iam wild enough to suspect even Captain Hawksley, unjust and unkind as itseems."
"Captain Hawksley? Who is he?"
"My late husband's cousin; heir, after my little son, to the title andestates. He is very poor, deeply in debt, and the inheritance would putan end to all his difficulties. But he is fond of my son; they seemalmost to worship each other. I, too, am fond of him. But, for all that,I have to remember that he and he alone would benefit by Cedric's death,and--and--wicked as it seems--Oh, Mr. Cleek, help me! Direct me!Sometimes I doubt him. Sometimes I doubt everybody. Sometimes I think ofthose other days, that other mystery, that land which reeks of them; andthen--and then--Oh, that horrible Ceylon! I wish I had never set foot init in all my life!"
Her agitation and distress were so great as to make her utterances onlyhalf coherent; and Ailsa, realising that this sort of thing must onlyperplex Cleek, and leave him in the dark regarding the matter upon whichthey had come to consult him, gently interposed.
"Do try to calm yourself and to tell the story as briefly as possible,dear Lady Chepstow," she advised. Then, taking the initiative, addedquietly, "It begins, Mr. Cleek, at a period when his little lordship,whose governess I have the honour to be, was but two years old, and atTrincomalee, where his late father was stationed with his regiment fouryears ago. Somebody, for some absurd reason, had set afoot a ridiculousrumour that the English had received orders from the Throne to stamp outevery religion but their own--in short, if the British were notexterminated, dreadful desecrations would occur, as they weredetermined--"
"To loot all the temples erected to Buddha, destroy the images, and makea bonfire of all the sacred relics," finished Cleek himself. "I rarelyforget history, Miss Lorne, especially when it is such recent history asthat memorable Buddhist rising at Trincomalee. It began upon an utterlyunfounded, ridiculous rumour; it terminated, if my memory serves mecorrectly, in something akin to the very thing it was supposed to avert.That is to say, during the outburst of fanaticism, that most sacred ofall relics--the holy tooth of Buddha--disappeared mysteriously from thetemple of Dambool, and in spite of the fact that many lacs of rupeeswere offered for its recovery, it has never, I believe, been found, oreven traced, to this day, although a huge fortune awaits the restorer,and, with it, overpowering honours from the native princes. Those musthave been trying times, Lady Chepstow, for the commandant's wife, themother of the commandant's only child?"
"Horrible! horrible!" she answered, with a shudder, forgetting for aninstant the dangers of the present in the recollection of the tragicalpast. "For a period, our lives were not safe; murder hid behind everybush, skulked in the shadow of every rock and tree, and we knew not atwhat minute the little garrison might be rushed under cover of thedarkness and every soul slaughtered before the relief force could cometo our assistance. I died a hundred deaths in a day in my anxiety forhusband and child. And once the very zealousness of our comrades almostbrought about the horror I feared. Oh!"--with a shudder of horrifiedrecollection and a covering of the eyes, as if to shut out the memory ofit--"Oh! that night--that horrible night! Unknown to any of us, my baby,rising from the bed where I had left him sleeping, whilst I went outsideto stand by Lord Chepstow, wandered beyond the line of defence, and,before anybody realised it, was out in the open, alone and unprotected.
"Ferralt, the cook, saw him first; saw, too, the crouching figure of anative, armed with a gun, in the shadow of the undergrowth. Withouthesitation the brave fellow rushed out, fell upon the native before hecould dart away, wrenched the gun from him, and brained him with thebutt. A cry of the utmost horror rang out upon the air, and, utteringit, another native bounded out from a hiding-place close to where thefirst had been killed, and flew zigzagging across the open, where Cedricwas. Evidently he had no intention of molesting the little fellow, forhe fled straight on past him, still shrieking after the accidentoccurred; but to Ferralt it seemed as if his intention were to murderthe boy, and, clapping the gun to his shoulder, in a panic ofexcitement, he fired. If it had been one of the soldiers,someone--anyone--who understood marksmanship and was not likely to be ina nervous quake over the circumstances, the thing could not havehappened, although the fugitive was careering along in a direct linewith my precious little one. But, with Ferralt--Oh, Mr. Cleek, can youima
gine my horror when I saw the flash of that shot, heard a shrill cryof pain, and saw my child drop to the ground?"
"Good heaven!" exclaimed Cleek, agitated in spite of himself. "Then theblunderer shot the child instead of the native?"
"Yes; and was so horrified by the mishap that, without waiting to learnthe result, he rushed blindly to the brink of a deep ravine, and threwhimself headlong to death. But the injury to Cedric was only a triflingone after all. The bullet seemed merely to have grazed him in passing,and, beyond a ragged gash in the fleshy part of the thigh, he was notharmed at all. That I myself dressed and bandaged, and in a couple ofweeks it was quite healed. But it taught me a lesson, that night ofhorror, and I never let my baby out of my sight for one instant fromthat time until the rising was entirely quelled.
"As suddenly as it had started, the trouble subsided. Native priestscame under a flag of truce to Lord Chepstow, and confessed their error,acknowledged that they had never any right to suspect the British of anydesign upon their gods, for the loot of the temple had actually takenplace in the midst of the rising, and they knew that it could not havecome from the hands of the soldiers, for they had had them undersurveillance all the time, and not one person of the race had venturedwithin a mile of the temple.
"Yet the tooth of Buddha had been taken, the sacred tooth which is moreholy to Buddhists than the statue of Gautama Buddha itself. Theirremorse was very real, and after that, to the day of his death fromfever, eighteen months afterward, they could never show enough honour toLord Chepstow. And even then their favour continued. They transferred tothe little son the homage they had done the father, but in a far, fargreater degree. If he had been a king's son they could have shown him nogreater honour. Native princes showered him with rich gifts; if hewalked out, his path was strewn with flowers by bowing maidens; if hewent into the market-place, the people prostrated themselves before him.
"When I questioned Buddhist women of this amazing homage to Cedric, theygave me a full explanation. My son was sacred, they said. Buddha hadwithdrawn his favour from his people because of the evil they had donein suspecting the father and of the innocent life--Ferralt's--which hadbeen sacrificed, and they had been commanded of the priests to do homageto the child and thereby appease the offended god, who, doubtless, hadhimself spirited away the holy tooth, and would not restore it untilfull recompense was made to the sacred son of the sacred dead.
"When it became known that I had decided to return to England with myboy, native princes offered me fabulous sums to remain, and when theyfound that I could not be tempted to stay, the populace turned out inevery town and village through which we passed on our way to the ship,and bowing multitudes followed us to the very last. Nor did it ceasewith that, for in all the years that have followed, even here in London,the homage and worship have continued. My son can go nowhere but that heis followed by Cingalese; can see no man or woman of the race, but he orshe prostrates herself before him and murmurs, 'Holy, most holy!' Anddaily, almost hourly, rich gifts are showered upon him from unknownhands, and he is watched over and guarded constantly. I tell you allthis, Mr. Cleek, that you may the better understand how appalling is thehorror which now assails us, how frightful is the knowledge that someonenow seeks his life, and is using every means to take it."
"In other words, my dear Cleek," put in Narkom, as her ladyship,overcome with emotion, broke down suddenly, "there appears to be asudden and inexplicable change of front on the part of these fanatics,and they now seem as anxious to bring evil to his little lordship asthey formerly were to protect and cherish him. At any rate, someone oftheir order has, upon three separate occasions within the last month,endeavoured to kidnap him, and, in one instance, even attempted tomurder him."
"Is that a fact?" queried Cleek sharply, glancing over at Miss Lorne."You are certain it is not a fancy, but an absolute fact?"
"Yes; oh, yes!" she made answer, agitatedly. "Twice when I have goneinto the Park with him, attempts have been made to separate us, to gethim away from me; and once they did get him away--so swiftly, soadroitly, that he had vanished before I could turn round. But, althougha bag had been thrown over his head to stifle his cries, he managed tomake a very little one. I plunged screaming into the undergrowth fromwhich that cry had come, and was just in time to save him. He was lyingon the ground all bundled up in a bag, and his assailant, who must haveheard me coming, had gone as if by magic. His little lordship, however,was able to tell me that the man was a Cingalese, and that he had 'triedto cut him with a knife.'"
"Cut him with a knife?" repeated Cleek in a reflective tone, and blewout a long, low whistle.
"Oh! but that is not the worst, Mr. Cleek," went on Ailsa. "Three daysago a woman--a very beautiful and distinguished-looking woman--called tosee Lady Chepstow regarding the reference of a former servant, one JaneCatherboys, who used to be her ladyship's maid. After the caller left, abox of sugared violets was found lying temptingly open on a table in themain hall. Little Cedric is passionately fond of sugared violets, and,had he happened to pass that way before the box was discovered, hesurely would have yielded to the temptation and eaten some. In removingthe box the parlour-maid accidentally upset it, and before she couldgather all the violets up her ladyship's little Pomeranian dog snappedup one and ate it. It was dead in six minutes' time! The sweets weresimply loaded with prussic acid. When we came to inquire into the matterin the hope of tracing the mysterious caller, we found that JaneCatherboys was no longer in need of a position; that she had beenmarried for eight months; that she knew nothing whatever of the woman,and had sent no one to inquire into her references."
"All of which shows, my dear Cleek," put in Narkom significantly, "that,whatever hand is directing these attempts, it belongs to one who knowsmore than a mere outsider possibly could: in short, to one who is awareof his little lordship's excessive fondness for sugared violets, and isaware that Lady Chepstow once did have a maid named Jane Catherboys."
"If," said Cleek, "you mean to suggest by that that this pointssuspiciously in Captain Hawksley's direction, Mr. Narkom, permit me tosay that it does not necessarily follow. The clever people of theunder-world do nothing by halves nor without careful inquiry beforehand;that is what makes the difference between the common pickpocket and thebrilliant swindler." He turned to Ailsa. "Is that all, Miss Lorne, or amI right in supposing that there is even worse to come?"
"Oh, much worse--much, Mr. Cleek! The knowledge that these would-bemurderers, whoever they are, whatever may be their mysterious motive,have grown desperate enough to invade the house itself has driven LadyChepstow well-nigh frantic. Of course, orders were immediately given tothe servants that no stranger, no matter how well dressed, how wellseeming, nor what the plea, was, from that moment, to be allowed pastthe threshold. We felt secure in that, knowing that no servant of thehousehold would betray his or her trust, and that all would be on theconstant watch for any further attempt. The unknown enemy must havefound out about these precautions, for no stranger came again to thedoor. But last night a thing we had never counted upon happened. In thedead of the night the unknown broke into the house--into the verynursery itself--and but that Lady Chepstow, impelled she does not knowby what, only that she was nervous and wakeful, and felt the need ofsome companionship, rose and carried the sleeping child into her ownbed, he would assuredly have been murdered. The nurse, awakened by ahorrible suffocating sensation, opened her eyes to find a man bendingover her with a chloroform-soaked cloth, which he was about to lay overher face. She shrieked and fainted, but not before she saw the manspring to the little bed on the other side of her own, hack furiously atit with a long, murderous knife, then dart to the window and vanish. Inthe darkness he had not, of course, been able to see that that littlebed was empty, for its position kept it in deep shadow, and hearing thehousehold stir at the sound of the nurse's shriek, he struck out blindlyand flew to save himself from detection. The nurse states that he wasundoubtedly a foreigner--a dark-skinned Asiatic--and her description ofhim tallies with th
at his little lordship gave of the man who attemptedto kill him that day in the Park. There, Mr. Cleek," she concluded,"that's the whole story. Can't you do something to help us--something tolift this constant state of dread and to remove this terrible dangerfrom little Lord Chepstow's life?"
"I'll try, Miss Lorne; but it is a most extraordinary case. Where is theboy, now?"
"At home, closely guarded. We appealed to Mr. Narkom, and he generouslyappointed two detective officers to sit with his little lordship andkeep constant watch over him whilst we are away."
"And in the meantime," added Mr. Narkom, "I've issued orders for ageneral rounding-up of all the Cingalese who can be traced or are knownto be in town. Petrie and Hammond have that part of the job in hand, andif they hit upon any Asiatic who answers to the description of thismurderous rascal--"
"I don't believe they will," interposed Cleek; "or, if they do, I don'tfor a moment believe he will turn out to be the guilty party. In otherwords, I have an idea that the fellow will prove to be a European."
"But, my dear fellow, both his little lordship and the nurse saw theman, and, as you have heard, they both agree that he was dark-skinnedand quite Oriental in appearance."
"One of the easiest possible disguises, Mr. Narkom. A wig, a stick ofgrease-paint, a threepenny twist of crepe hair, and there you are! No, Ido not believe that the man is a Cingalese at all; and, far from hishaving any connection with what you were pleased to term just now achange of front on the part of the Buddhists who have so long held thelittle chap as something sacred, I don't believe that they know anythingabout him. I base that upon the fact that the child is still treatedwith homage whenever he goes out, according to what Miss Lorne says, andthat, with the single exception of that one woman who tried to poisonhim, nobody but just one man--this particular one man--has ever made anyattempt to harm the boy. Fanatics, like those Cingalese, cleave to anidea to the end, Mr. Narkom; they don't cast it aside and go off atanother tangent. You have heard what Lady Chepstow says the native womentold her; the boy was sacred; their priests had commanded them toappease Buddha by doing homage to him until the tooth was found, and thetooth has not been found up to the present day! That means that nothingon earth could change their attitude toward him, that not one of theBuddhist sect would harm a solitary hair of his head for a king'sransom; so you may eliminate the Cingalese from the case entirely so faras the attempts upon the child's life are concerned. Whoever is makingthe attempts is doing so without their knowledge and for a purelypersonal reason."
"Then, in that case, this Captain Hawksley--"
"I'll have a look at that gentleman before I tumble into bed to-night,and you shall have my views upon that point to-morrow morning, Mr.Narkom. Frankly, things point rather suspiciously in the captain'sdirection, since he is apparently the only person likely to be benefitedby the boy's death, and if a motive cannot be traced to some otherperson--" He stopped abruptly and held up his hand. Outside in the dimhalls of the house a sudden noise had sprung into being, the noise ofsomeone running upstairs in great haste, and, stepping quickly to thedoor, Cleek drew it sharply open. As he did so, Dollops came puffing upout of the lower gloom, a sheep's trotter in one hand, and a letter inthe other.
"Law, Gov'nor!" groaned he, from midway on the staircase, "I don'tbelieve as I'm ever goin' to be let get a square tuck-in this side ofthe buryin' ground! Jist finished wot was left of that there steak andkidney puddin', sir, and started on my seckint trotter, when I sees apair o' legs nip parst the area railin's to the front door, and then nipoff again like greased lightnin', and when I ups and does a flyin' leapup the kitchen stairs, there was this here envellup in the letter-box,and them there blessed legs nowheres in sight. I say, sir," agitatedly,"look wot's wrote on the envellup, will yer? And us always keepin' of itso dark."
Cleek plucked the letter from his extended hand, glanced at it, andpuckered up his lips; then, with a gesture, he sent Dollops back belowstairs, and, returning to the room, closed the door behind him.
"The enemy evidently knows all Lady Chepstow's movements, Mr. Narkom,"he said. "I expect she and Miss Lorne have been under surveillance allday and have been followed here. Look at that!" He flung the letter downon a table as he spoke, and Narkom, glancing at it, saw printed in rude,illiterate letters upon the envelope the one word "Cleek." The identityof "Captain Burbage" was known to someone, and the secret of the housein Clarges Street was a secret no longer!
"Purposely disguised, you see. No one, not even a little child, wouldmake such a botch of copying the alphabet as that," Cleek said, as hetook the letter up and opened it. The sheet it contained was lettered inthe same uncouth manner, and bore these words:
"Cleek, take a fool's advice and don't accept the Chepstow case. Bewarned. If you interfere, somebody you care about will pay the price.You'll find it more satisfactory to buy a wedding bouquet than a funeralwreath!"
"Oh!" shuddered the two ladies in one breath. "How horrible! Howcowardly!" And then, feeling that her last hope had gone, Lady Chepstowbroke into a fit of violent weeping and laid her head on Ailsa'sshoulder.
"Oh, my baby! My darling baby boy!" she sobbed. "And now they arethreatening somebody that you, too, love. Of course, Mr. Cleek, I can'texpect you to risk the sacrifice of your own dear ones for the sake ofme and mine, and so--and so--Oh, take me away, Miss Lorne! Let me goback to my baby and have him while I may."
"Good-night, Mr. Cleek!" said Ailsa, stretching out a shaking hand tohim. "Thank you so much for--for what you would have done but for this.And you were our last hope, too!"
"Why give it up then, Miss Lorne?" he said, holding her hand and lookinginto her eyes. "Why not go on letting me be your last hope--your onlyhope?"
"Yes, but they--they spoke of a funeral wreath."
"And they also spoke of a wedding bouquet! I am going to take the case,Miss Lorne--take it, and solve it, as I'm a living man. Thank you!" asher brimming eyes uplifted in deep thankfulness and her shaking handreturned the pressure of his. "Now, just give me five minutes' time inthe next room--it's my laboratory, Lady Chepstow--and I'll tell youwhether I shall begin with Captain Hawksley or eliminate him from thecase entirely. You might go in ahead, Mr. Narkom, and get the acid bathand the powder ready for me. We'll see what the finger-prints of ourgentle correspondent have to tell, and, if they are not in the recordsof Scotland Yard or down in my own private little book, we'll get asample of Captain Hawksley's in the morning."
Then, excusing himself to the ladies, he passed into the inner room incompany with Narkom, and carried the letter with him. When he returnedit was still in his hand, but there were greyish smudges all over it.
"There's not a finger-print in the lot that is worth anything as a meansof identification, Miss Lorne," he said. "But you and Lady Chepstow mayaccept my assurance that Captain Hawksley is not the man. The writer ofthis letter belongs to the criminal classes; he is on his guard againstthe danger of finger-prints, and he wore rubber gloves when he pennedthis message. When I find him, rest assured I shall find a man who hashad dealings with the police before and whose finger-prints are on theirrecords. I don't know what his game is nor what he's after yet, but Iwill inside of a week. I've an idea; but it's so wild a thing I'm almostafraid to trust myself to believe it possible until I stumble oversomething that points the same way. Now, go home with Lady Chepstow, andbegin the work of helping me."
"Helping you? Oh, Mr. Cleek, can we? Is there anything we can do tohelp?"
"Yes. When you leave the house, act as though you are in the utmoststate of dejection--and keep that up indefinitely. Make it appear, for Iam certain you will be followed and spied upon, as if I had declined thecase. But don't have any fear about the boy. The two constables willsleep in the room with him to-night and every night until the thing iscleared up and the danger past. To-morrow about dusk, however, you,personally, take him for a walk near the Park, and if, among the otherCingalese you may meet, you should see one dressed as an Englishman, andwearing a scarlet flower in his butto
nhole, take no notice of how oftenyou see him nor of what he may do."
"It will be you, Mr. Cleek?"
"Yes. Now go, please; and don't forget to act as if you and her ladyshipwere utterly broken-hearted. Also"--his voice dropped lower, his handmet her hand, and in the darkness of the hall a little silver-platedrevolver was slipped into her palm--"also, take this. Keep it alwayswith you, never be without it night or day, and if any living creatureoffers you violence, shoot him down as you would a mad dog. Good-night,and--remember!"
And long after she and Lady Chepstow had gone down and passed out intothe night he stood there, looking the situation straight in the face andthinking his own troubled thoughts.
"A wedding bouquet! A threat against her, and the mention of a weddingbouquet!" he said, as he went back into the room and sat down to figurethe puzzle out. "Only one creature in the world knows of my feelings inthat direction, and only one creature in the world would be capable ofthat threat--Margot! But what interest could she or any of her tribehave in the death of Lady Chepstow's little son? Her game is alwaysmoney. If she were after a ransom she would try to abduct the child, notto kill him, and if"--A sudden thought came and wrenched away his voice.He sat a moment twisting his fingers one through the other and frowningat the floor; then, of a sudden, he gave a cry and jumped to his feet."Five lacs of rupees--a fortune! By George, I've got it!" he fairlyshouted. "The wild guess was a correct one, I'll stake my life. Let'sput it to the test."
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