The Third R. Austin Freeman Megapack

by R. Austin Freeman

  There was no doubt in my mind as to what Thorndyke would say, for, evidently, this young scallywag was one of the indispensable missing links.

  “I will come with you with the greatest pleasure,” he replied, “and no doubt Jervis will come too and add to the gaiety of the proceedings.”

  “Good,” said Brodribb. “I will let Miss Vernet know.” And with this he took his departure with an appearance of satisfaction that seemed to me to be somewhat disproportionate to the results of his embassy. For, whereas to us the tracing of the seal held untold potentialities of enlightenment, to Brodribb it could appear no more than a matter of curious and trivial interest.

  “Yes,” Thorndyke agreed when I commented on Brodribb’s remarkable self-complacency. “I had the same impression. Believing as he does, that Sir Edward made away with himself, he can have no reason for attaching any special significance to the fact that the seal was in the lad’s possession. But he is obviously extremely pleased with himself; and I suspect we shall find that he has not disclosed to us the whole of his discovery. But we shall see.”

  And in due course we did see.

  CHAPTER XIV

  New Light on the Problem

  (Jasper Gray’s Narrative)

  It was while I was carrying out some improvements on the studio skylight that Miss Vernet made her momentous communication. Of course, she didn’t know that it was momentous. Neither did I. You never do. Providence has a way of keeping these little surprises up its sleeve and letting them fly at you when you are looking the other way.

  But it was not only her communication that held such unsuspected potentialities. My very occupation, trivial and commonplace as it appeared, was fraught with a hidden significance which it was presently to develop together with that of other seemingly trifling actions.

  At the moment, I was standing on the top of a rickety pair of steps which Miss Vernet was anxiously steadying while I fastened a rope to a swinging fan light. Hitherto that fan-light had been clumsily adjusted from below with the aid of a sort of boat-hook. Now, by means of the rope and a cleat on the wall, it could be conveniently set at any angle and securely fixed.

  As I came down the steps, having completed the job, Miss Vernet murmured her thanks, mingled with expressions of admiration at the ingenuity of the arrangement. Then, after a pause, she said a little hesitatingly: “I have a confession to make, Jasper. I hope you won’t be angry, but I have to a certain extent broken your confidence.”

  I looked at her in surprise but made no comment. There was nothing to say until I knew what she meant, so I waited for her to continue.

  “Do you remember Mr. Brodribb?” she asked.

  “I think so,” I replied. “Isn’t he the gentleman with beautiful silky white hair who came with Sir Giles to look at your picture?”

  “Yes,” she said eagerly. “I am glad you remember him. Well, for some reason, he is greatly interested in you. He came here yesterday on purpose to ask me about you. He put quite a lot of questions, which, of course, I couldn’t answer, but I did let out about your coming here in those prison clothes.”

  “Is that all?” I exclaimed. “What does it matter? I don’t mind his knowing. I don’t care who knows now that the affair is over and we have sent the clothes back.” (I had addressed the parcel myself to the Governor of Pentonville Prison and delivered it in person at the gate.)

  She was obviously relieved at my attitude, but I could see that there was something more to come.

  “I don’t know why he is so concerned about you,” she continued, “but he assures me that his interest is a proper and legitimate interest and not mere curiosity. He would very much like to meet you and ask you one or two questions. He thinks that you might be able to give him some information that would be very valuable and helpful to him. Do you think you would mind meeting him here one day?”

  “Of course I shouldn’t. Why should I? But I think he must be mistaken if he thinks I could tell him anything that would matter to him.”

  “Well, that is his affair,” said she, “and naturally you won’t tell him anything that you don’t want to. I am sure, when you meet him, you will like him very much. Everybody does.”

  Accordingly we proceeded to arrange the date of the meeting which was fixed for the ensuing Thursday afternoon, subject to my obtaining leave of absence from Sturt and Wopsalls; and then, as an afterthought, Miss Vernet mentioned that Mr. Brodribb would like to bring a friend and fellow lawyer with him. This sounded rather portentous, but I made no objection; and when I went away (having secured the rope on its cleat) I left Miss Vernet happy in having success fully carried out the negotiations on Mr. Brodribb’s behalf.

  Sturt and Wopsalls raised no difficulties about the afternoon off, it being the first time that I had ever made such a request. I cleared up most of the deliveries in a strenuous morning, and, having made myself as presentable as the resources of my wardrobe permitted, presented myself at the studio punctually at three o’clock in the afternoon. I was the first arrival and thereby was enabled to assist the two ladies in setting out a tea-table that made my mouth water; and I was amused to observe that, of the three, I was the only one who was not in a most almighty twitter.

  But even my self-possession sustained a slight jar when the visitors arrived; for Mr. Brodribb had gone beyond the contract and brought two friends with him; both, as I assumed, lawyers. But it appeared that I was mistaken, for it turned out that they were doctors. And yet, later, it seemed as if they were lawyers. It was rather confusing. However, they were all very agreeable gentlemen and they all addressed me as “Mr. Gray,” which caused me to swell with secret pride and induced in Miss Brandon a tendency to giggles.

  One thing which astonished me was their indifference to the delicacies with which the table was loaded. I had seen such things in pastry cooks’ windows and had wondered sometimes if they tasted as well as they looked. Now I knew. The answer was in the affirmative. But these gentlemen trifled negligently with those incredible cakes and pastries as if they had been common ‘tommy,’ and as for Mr. Brodribb he positively ate nothing at all. However, the delicacies weren’t wasted. Miss Vernet knew my capacity for disposing of nourishment and kept a supply moving in my direction.

  Of course, there were no questions asked while we were having tea. The gentlemen mostly talked with the ladies about pictures and painting and models, and very entertaining their conversation was, only I found myself wishing that Mr. Brodribb had taken something to eat to distract his attention from me. For whenever I glanced at him, I met his bright blue eye fixed on me with an intensity of interest that would have destroyed my appetite if the food had not been so unusually alluring. Not that he was the only observer. I was distinctly conscious that his two friends, Dr. Jervis and Dr. Thorndyke, were ‘taking stock of me,’ as our packer would express it; but they didn’t devour me with their eyes as Mr. Brodribb did.

  As the closing phases of the meal set in, the conversation turned from the subject of pictures and models in general to Miss Vernet’s picture and her model in particular, and while the two ladies were clearing away, I was persuaded to go to the dressing-room and put on my costume for the visitors’ entertainment. When I came forth and took up my pose on the throne, my appearance was greeted with murmurs of applause by all, but especially by Mr. Brodribb.

  “It is perfectly amazing,” he exclaimed. “I assure you Thorndyke, that the resemblance is positively photographic.”

  “Do you think,” Dr. Thorndyke asked, “that you are making full allowance for the costume and the pose?

  “I think so,” Mr. Brodribb answered. “To me the facial resemblance seems most striking. I should like you to see the portrait for yourself. Nothing short of that I know will convince you.”

  “At any rate,” said Dr. Thorndyke, “we can understand how those unfortunate constables were deluded. I am all agog to hear Mr. Gray’s account of that comedy of errors.”

  On this hint I retired once more to shed my
gorgeous plumage and when I returned to the studio, I found half a dozen chairs arranged and the audience in waiting.

  “Now, Jasper,” said Miss Vernet, “you understand that Mr. Brodribb wants you to tell us the story in full detail. You are not to leave anything out.”

  I grinned a little uncomfortably and felt my face growing hot and red. “There isn’t much to tell,” I mumbled, “I expect Miss Vernet has told you all there is.”

  “Never mind,” said Mr. Brodribb, “we want the whole story. To begin with, what took you to the River Lea?”

  I explained about the parcel and the railway journey, and having thus broken the ice, and got fairly started, I went on to recount the successive events of that day of mingled joy and terror, gradually warming to my task under the influence of the genuine interest and amusement that my audience manifested. So great was their appreciation that—my shyness being now quite dissipated—I was quite sorry when I had brought my adventures down to the moment when I changed into my costume and took up my pose. For that was the end of my story—at least I thought it was. But my legal friends soon undeceived me. The end of the story was the beginning of the cross-examination.

  Mr. Brodribb started the ball. “When that convict ran off with your clothes did he take anything of value with them? Anything in the pockets, I mean.”

  “Yes,” I answered. “There was my return ticket in the trousers’ pocket and an emerald in a secret pocket at the back of the waistcoat.”

  “An emerald?” said Mr. Brodribb.

  “Well, it was a green stone of some kind and it must have come out of a signet ring, because it had a seal engraved on it; a little castle with a motto underneath—‘Strong in Defence’—and above it the head of some sort of animal that looked rather like a crocodile.”

  “What is known in heraldry as a Wyvern, I think. Now would you recognise an impression of that seal?”

  I assured him that I most certainly should, where upon he carefully extracted from a pocket letter-case an envelope on which was a black seal.

  “Now,” said he, handing it to me, “just look at that seal and tell me if you think it was made with the stone that you had.”

  I looked at the seal and glanced at the address on the envelope, and then I grinned.

  “I am quite sure it was,” I answered, “because I made it myself.”

  “The deuce you did!” exclaimed Mr. Brodribb. “How was that?”

  I described the incident of the dropped letter and was rather surprised at the amount of amusement it created, for I didn’t see anything particularly funny in it. But they did; especially Dr. Jervis, who laughed until he had to wipe his eyes.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” said he, “but the recollection of the great pow-wow in New Square was too much for me. Mr. Gray had us all guessing that time.”

  “Yes,” chuckled Mr. Brodribb, “we were a trifle out of our depth, though I would remind you that Thorndyke gave us practically the correct solution. But, now, I wonder if you would mind, Mr. Gray, telling us how that seal stone came into your possession?”

  I had been expecting this question, and obviously it had got to be answered. For the seal had probably been stolen and I had to make it clear that it had not been stolen by me. It would not he enough merely to say that I had found it.

  “I have no objection at all,” said I, “but it is rather a long story.”

  “So much the better,” said Dr. Jervis, “if it is as amusing as the last. But tell us the whole of it.”

  “Yes,” urged Dr. Thorndyke, “begin at the beginning and don’t be afraid of going into detail. We want to know all about that seal.”

  My recent experience in Pentecost Grove had completely cured me of any tendency to reticence. Here was an opportunity to expose that nest of criminals and I resolved to take it. Accordingly, in obedience to Dr. Thorndyke’s directions, I began with the incident of the truck and the egg-chest and recounted in full detail all the adventures and perils of that unforgettable day.

  “Bless the boy!” exclaimed Miss Vernet, as I described my entry into the egg-chest on the schooner’s deck, “he is a regular Sindbad the Sailor! But don’t let me interrupt.”

  She did interrupt, nevertheless, from time to time, with ejaculations of astonishment and horror. But what interested me especially was the effect of my story on the three men. They all listened with rapt attention, especially Dr. Thorndyke; and I had the feeling that they were comparing what I was telling them with something that they already knew. For instance, when I described Ebbstein’s house and the work-room with the goose on the fire and the sour smell and the big tub of herrings and cabbage, Dr. Jervis seemed to start; and then he turned to Dr. Thorndyke, and looked at him in a most singular way. And Dr. Thorndyke caught his eye and nodded as if he understood that look.

  When I came to my escape from Ebbstein’s house I hesitated for a moment, being, for some reason, a little unwilling to tell them about Miss Stella. But I had promised to give them the whole story and I felt that perhaps this part, too, might mean more to them than it did to me. So I described the rescue in detail and related how we had escaped together. And very glad I was that I had not held anything back. For I could see at once by Dr. Jervis’s manner and expression that there was more in my story than I had understood.

  “I hope,” Miss Vernet interrupted as I was describing the escape from the empty house, “that you didn’t kill that unfortunate wretch. It would really have served him right, but still—”

  “Oh, it’s all right,” I reassured her. “I didn’t kill him. I’ve seen him since.”

  This statement Dr. Thorndyke noted in a book which he had produced from his pocket and in which I had observed him jotting down short notes from time to time with a view, as I discovered later, to cross-examination, and to avoid interrupting my narrative. He was evidently deeply interested; much more so, I noticed, than Mr. Brodribb, who, in fact, listened with an air of rather detached amusement.

  I now went on to describe our meeting with the hansom; and at the mention of that vehicle and the driver’s name, Louis, Dr. Jervis uttered an exclamation of surprise or excitement. But the climax, for me, came when I brought my story to a close with our arrival at Miss Stella’s house. Then, in an instant, Mr. Brodribb’s detached interest gave place to the most intense excitement. He sat up with a jerk, and, having stared at me in astonished silence for a few moments, demanded:

  “Dorchester Square, you say? You don’t remember the number, I suppose?”

  “It was number sixty-three,” I replied.

  “Ha!” he exclaimed; and then, “You didn’t happen to learn the young lady’s name?”

  “I heard the footman refer to her as Miss Stella.”

  “Ha!” said Mr. Brodribb again. Then he turned to Dr. Thorndyke and said in a low, deeply impressive tone: “Stella Hardcastle. Paul’s daughter, you know.”

  Dr. Thorndyke nodded. I think he had already guessed who she was—and for a little while no one spoke. It was Mr. Brodribb who broke the silence. “I’ve been a fool, Thorndyke. For the first—and last—time, I have set my judgement against yours. And I was wrong. I see it plainly enough now. I only hope that my folly has not caused a fatal hindrance.”

  Dr. Thorndyke looked at him with an extraordinarily pleasant smile as he replied: “We assumed that you would alter your mind when some of the facts emerged, and we have been working on that assumption.” Then, turning to me, he said: “I have quite a number of questions to ask you, Mr. Gray. First of all, about that rope. You mentioned that you threw it on the foot board of the cab. Did you leave it there?”

  Now, I had already noticed Dr. Thorndyke looking rather hard, now and again, at the rope that hung from the skylight, so I wasn’t surprised at his question. But what followed did surprise me most uncommonly.

  “No,” I answered. “I brought it away with me.”

  “And what has become of it?”

  I grinned (for I was pretty sure that he had ‘ogled’ it,
as our packer would say), and pointed to the rope. “That is it,” said I.

  “The deuce it is!” exclaimed Dr. Jervis. “And a brown rope, too. This looks like another windfall, Thorndyke.”

  “It does,” the latter agreed; and, rising, he stepped over to the cleat and taking the two ends of the rope in his hands, looked at them closely. Then he brought a magnifying-glass out of his pocket and had a look at them through that.

  “Were both of these ends whipped when you found the rope?” he asked as Dr. Jervis took the glass from him and examined the ends through it.

  “No,” I answered. “Only one end was whipped. I did the other end myself—the one with the white whipping.”

  He nodded and glanced at Dr. Jervis, who also nodded. Then he asked: “Do you think, Miss Vernet, that we might have this rope down to examine a little more completely?”

  “But, of course,” she replied. “Jasper will—”

  I didn’t hear the finish, for I was off, hot-foot for the steps. Evidently there was mystery in the air and it was a mystery that I was concerned with. I had the rope down in a twinkling and handed it to Dr. Thorndyke, who had just taken possession of the studio yard measure, which he now passed to Dr. Jervis.

  “Measure the rope carefully, Jervis, and don’t pull it out too taut.”

  I helped Dr. Jervis to take the measurement, laying the rope on the table and pulling it just taut but not stretching it, while Mr. Brodribb and the two ladies looked on, mightily interested and a good deal puzzled by the proceedings. When we had made the measurement, Dr. Jervis wrote the length down on a scrap of paper and then did the measurement over again with practically the same result. Then he laid the yard measure down and asked: “What do you say the length is, Thorndyke?”

  “If the whole remainder is there,” was the reply, “it should be forty-six feet, four and a half inches.”

  “It is forty-six feet, five inches,” said Dr. Jervis, “which we may take as complete agreement.”