SIGNOR ANTONIO
Cain Merry was a particular pet of Miss Lorry's, and the lad felt
grateful to her for the attention. He admired her exceedingly, and at
one time had fancied himself in love with her. But Miss Lorry,
experienced in admirers, laughed at him the moment she descried the
early symptoms, and told him she was old enough to be his mother. It
was creditable to Cain that he took the hint thus given, and devoted
himself to Jane Wasp, with whom he had been in love ever since they
attended the same board school. And after his passing fancy for Miss
Lorry, the lad's love for the policeman's daughter became even more
marked, much to the joy of Jane, who adored the dark-eyed scamp, and
lost no opportunity of meeting him.
But Cain was such a Bohemian, that this was no easy matter. Owing to
the nagging of his mother, he stayed away from Misery Castle as much
as he could, and got jobs in the surrounding country and in London.
Also there was some influence at work on Cain's character, which Jane
could not understand: something that made him moody and inclined him
to despair. In her simple way Jane tried to learn what it was, that
she might comfort him, but Cain always baffled her.
On the morning after Miss Lorry's interview with Saltars, the lad was
more dismal than usual, and was rather listless in his work. As the
circus was packing up to move on to Chelmsford, there was little time
to be lost, and Cain came in for many a hard word. At length the
manager became exasperated at his indolence, and sent him off with a
message to Miss Lorry, who had rooms near the Queen's Hotel. Nothing
loath to be relieved from moving heavy beams, and taking down the
large tent, Cain set off in better spirits.
On passing through the market place about ten o'clock he saw Jane,
perched on a light market cart, and ran towards her with a bright
face. The girl received him with a joyful cry, and explained that she
had been looking for him for the past hour.
"Mrs. Whiffles drove me over," she explained, getting down to speak
more freely; "she keeps the Wargrove inn, you know----"
"Of course I know," said Cain quickly; "I'm Wargrove as well as you,
Jane. But how did your father let you go. I thought he was keeping you
in, to help your mother."
"Ah, he does that," said Jane with a sigh; "father's a hard one,
Cain, and hates you like poison. You see he's all for the law,
and you----"
"And I'm a vagabond, as my mother says. Well, Jane, don't you
fret, I'm getting a higher law than that your father serves. I'll
tell you about it some day. How did you come over?"
"I told you. I came with Mrs. Whiffles. Mother wanted some things
here, and as Mrs. Whiffles was going, she thought I might come too. I
shan't tell father anything, nor will mother. He's out till two, and
we must be back before then. But mother wouldn't have let me come had
she known the circus was here, Cain. She says I'm not to think of you
at all. I'm to go out to service."
"We may marry before you do that," said Cain quickly; "how did you
know the circus was here?"
"Mr. Hill's groom Jacobs told me."
"Oh!" Cain frowned. "You're too thick with that Harry Jacobs."
"I've known him all my life, Cain."
"So have I, and I don't like him. He thinks he's every one, because he
wears a smart livery. I wear just as smart a one in the circus."
"Yes, but the circus ain't decent, Cain. I could never marry you if
you kept on there. I couldn't go about as you do, and if you're to be
my husband I'd like to be near you."
"You shall be near me, and we'll marry to take service in something
better than a circus," said Cain, his face lighting up.
"What's that?"
Cain drew near and was about to speak, when his ear was suddenly
seized by a large dark man, who frowned. "Why aren't you seeing Miss
Lorry, you young scamp?" said the stranger. "I've got to do your
business. Mr. Stag asked you particularly to give that note. Hand it
over."
"I'll take it now," said Cain, getting free; "leave my ear alone."
"You give the note to me, Cain. Who is this?" and he looked at Jane.
"She's a friend of mine from Wargrove," said Cain sulkily; "get back
into the cart, Jane."
"From Wargrove?" said the dark man with a queer smile; "and her name?"
"I'm Jane Wasp, sir," said the girl, looking into the man's somewhat
brutal face.
The man laughed. "Policeman Wasp's daughter, as I'm a sinner. How's
your fool of a father? Catching every one he shouldn't catch, I
suppose? He was always too clever."
Cain interposed. "Leave her alone fa----, I mean Signor
Antonio," he said, "she's going home."
Signor Antonio turned on him with a snarl. "Hold your tongue, you
whelp," he said, "I'll talk to whom I like and as long as I like. I
want to know what Policeman Wasp's doing now?"
"He's looking after the murderer of Mr. Strode," said Jane
politely.
The man started and laughed. "I hope he'll catch him: but it's a
business rather beyond his powers, I fancy. Stop, you're the girl
who delivered the package to Mr. Hill."
"To young Mr. Hill," said Jane, climbing into Mrs. Whiffles cart, "not
to the father."
Signor Antonio turned on the boy with a frown. "I told you it was to
be given to Mr. Hill himself."
"Well, he got it right enough," said Cain impatiently. "I gave it to
Jane at Colchester, and she took it to Mr. Allen, who gave it to his
father."
"And what happened?"
"I don't know," said Jane. "I didn't see Mr. Hill get it."
"You fool," cried Antonio turning on Cain with another snarl. "I
wanted the girl to report how Hill looked when he opened the
package, and now----"
"Jane's got nothing to do with this business," said Cain resolutely,
"and I won't have her mixed up in your affairs."
"Do you know who I am?" demanded the man, black with anger.
"Yes," replied the boy with a queer look; "you're Signor Antonio."
Jane thought she would interfere as there seemed to be a chance of a
quarrel. "Mr. Hill went to London after he got the parcel."
"On the same day?" asked the man eagerly.
"Yes, sir. Jacobs, who drives him, told me he went within two hours
after he opened the parcel. He's gone up to attend a sale----"
"Oh," sneered Signor Antonio, "so he's gone to attend a sale? Very
good, that's all right. The parcel was a notice about a sale----"
"Of musical instruments, I know, sir. Jacobs told me."
"You speak too much to Jacobs," cried Cain; "remember you're engaged
to marry me, Jane."
"Stuff and nonsense," said Signor Antonio, who in spite of his Italian
name and looks did not speak his own language; "you'll not marry the
girl."
"But I shall," said Cain, setting his teeth; "mind your own business."
"This _is_ my business, you brat----"
"Jane," said Cain pointing to the hotel, "yonder is Mrs. Whiffles
waving to you. Drive over. I'll send you my address, and you can
write to me. Good-bye, dear."
He would have climbed on the cart and kissed her, but that the
so-called Italian drew him back. Jane, rather started and puzzled by
the dominion this stranger seemed to exercise over Cain, drove hastily
away to the curb where fat Mrs. Whiffles stood waving her fat arms.
She looked back to see Cain and Antonio in fierce conversation, and
dreaded a quarrel.
And indeed there would have been a quarrel but for the boy's
self-possession. Cain appeared to have far more command of his
temper than the older man, and spoke quietly enough. "See here," he
said, "I won't have you interfering with my affairs."
"Do you know who I am?" demanded Antonio again.
"You asked me that before and in public," said Cain, "and I told you,
you were Signor Antonio. But you know well enough what you are and so
do I."
"And what am I?" jeered Antonio.
"You're the man that deserted his wife and child, and your name is
Giles Merry."
"Yes, it is, and don't you talk of deserting, you brat. I'm your
father, so you look out. I'll thrash you."
"Oh no, you won't," said Cain boldly, "I'm quite equal to standing up
to you, father. Leave my business alone, I've put up with you ever
since we met a year ago, and I did what you wanted because you
promised me not to go near my mother. I learn that you have written
that you intend to call on her."
"What if I do? She's my wife as you're my son. She's got a house over
her head, and money, and I've got a right to share both."
"No, you haven't," said Cain sharply, "you're no father of mine, as
you deserted me and mother when we were poor. Now that we've got
money, you'd come and make mother miserable. I kept my part of the
bargain, so you keep to yours. If you write mother again or go near
her, I'll make things hot."
Antonio made a dash at the boy--they were now in a quiet side
street--and gasped with rage. "You unnatural young cuckoo----"
"Leave me alone, father, or I'll sing out for the police."
"What!" Antonio, finding force would not do, began to whine, "you'd
run in your poor old father?"
"I don't want to," said Cain, "but if you force me to, I must. All I
ask is for you to keep away from mother, and leave me alone. If you
don't, I'll tell Wasp something he may like to hear."
The older man turned pale through his swarthy skin. "What will you
tell him?" he asked in a thick voice.
"Never you mind. But I know you saw Mr. Strode when he came to the
circus that night after Lord Saltars. Then there's Butsey----"
"What about Butsey?" asked the father uneasily, and glaring.
"Nothing. Only he's a bad lot. I'm no great shakes myself,"
admitted Cain sadly, "but I'm beginning to see how wicked I am. If I
was as bad as Butsey, father, I'd not treat you like this. You sent
Butsey with a lying message to mother----"
"I wanted to know how she looked."
"No, you didn't. I believe you sent Butsey to steal that wooden hand."
"It's a lie. I don't know who took it."
"I believe Butsey did, though why you wanted it I don't know. And
what is there between you and Mr. Hill, father, seeing you sent him
that cross?"
"That's my business," growled Antonio, finding his son knew too much
for him; "you hold your tongue."
"I will, as long as you keep away from my mother."
"Lord, I'll keep away," said Antonio good-humouredly. "I don't want to
live with her nagging and whimpering. You're her son, sure enough--a
young prig going against your lawful father."
"Only for my mother's sake. And you want me to do wrong. I'm seeing
light, father, and I'm changing."
"What do you mean by seeing light? You're always saying that."
"I've been to the Salvation Army meetings," said Cain solemnly, "and I
see what a sinner I am."
"Oh, you're going to turn parson, are you? Well, you can do what you
like, but hold your tongue about my business."
"I'll do so. But tell me, father?" Cain looked anxiously into the
brutal face, "had you anything to do with that murder?"
Antonio glared and looked like a devil. He made another dash at the
boy, but at that moment three or four men came round the corner,
and amongst them a policeman. At once Antonio burst out into a loud
laugh and took to his broken English. "Ver' goot, my leetle boy,
gif me the letter. I go to Mees Lorry. Ah, Dio!"
Cain saw that he would not receive a reply to his terrible question
just then, so, glad to get away on the chance of having another talk
with Jane, he escaped. Hardly had he turned the corner when his
father was after him, and a deep voice breathed in his ear:
"I had nothing to do with that," said Antonio anxiously; "I'm bad,
but not so bad as that. I don't know who killed the man. Go"--a push
sent the boy reeling--"and hold your tongue. I'll keep my part of the
bargain and leave your mother alone. Keep yours," and before Cain
could recover his breath Antonio was ringing the bell of Miss Lorry's
lodgings.
That lady was just up and at breakfast. Antonio was shown into her
sitting-room, and found her drinking coffee. She saluted him with a
smile. "Well, Giles, what's brought you here at this hour?"
"This letter from Stag," said Antonio, giving the note he had received
from Cain; "and don't call me Giles, Bell."
"You seem very much afraid of people knowing you," she jeered, opening
the envelope, and running her eyes over the letter. "Stag wants me to
make another contract for the North." She threw down the note. "Well
then, I won't."
"What are you going to do, then?"
"Go to London and marry Lord Saltars."
"He means business, then?"
Miss Lorry rose, and looked as though she would slap Antonio's face.
"You hound," she hissed, "do you think I'd let any man play fast and
loose with me. Not a word," she added, seeing a grim smile on the
strong man's face. "I know what you would say. Leave the past alone,
or it will be the worse for you. And see here, what's become of that
boy Butsey?"
"He's in London at Father Don's."
"Poor little wretch. Being made into a devil such as you are. Then,
you send for him to come to Chelmsford. I want him to deliver a
letter, and the sooner it's delivered the better."
"Can't I deliver it?"
"No, you can't. I can trust Butsey. I can't trust you."
"Who is the letter to?"
"That's my business," flashed out Miss Lorry, returning to her
interrupted breakfast; "tell Stag I'll see him about the note at my
own time."
"But, Bell, if you leave the show, how will you live?"
"I've got money saved. You need not ask how much," she added, seeing
the cupidity flash into the man's eyes, "for I am not going to tell
you. I leave the show at the end of October, and then I remain in town
till I become Lady Saltars."
"A nice bargain he'll get with you," growled Antonio. "I know you."
"As we've been together in the circus for years, you ought to----"
"I wasn't thinking of the circus, but of----"
"Hold your tongue," she cried, rising again, "mind your own business."
"You don't make it worth my while. Suppose I spoil your game with Lord
Saltars?"
Miss Lorry's face became hard and her eyes glittered. "You dare to
interfere, and I'll send to that policeman at Wargrove to tell him I
saw you at Westhaven speaking to a pair of the biggest blackguards in
London."
"And what will that do? I've got a right to speak to whom I choose."
"You can for all I care," said Miss Lorry, sitting down once more,
"your business has nothing to do with me so long as you leave me
alone. Why don't you go home to your poor wife?"
"My poor wife don't want me. And I wouldn't live with her for gold
untold, seeing how she nags and moans. My wife?" sneered the man
with an ugly look; "you're a nice one to talk of her."
"I tell you what, Giles Merry," said Miss Lorry, with great
deliberation, "you'd better keep a civil tongue, or you'll have a bad
time. I'll horsewhip you before the company, strong man as you are."
Antonio scowled. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I? You talk like that and you'll see. You always were a
brute and you always will be. I only hope," added Miss Lorry,
suddenly looking into his eyes, "that you aren't something
worse."
Antonio met the look with great composure. "Meaning a murderer?"
he said. "Cain asked me if I did kill Strode."
"And how do I know you didn't?"
"Because I did not," cried the man, rising and looking fierce.
"Well," said Miss Lorry, after a pause, "I daresay you didn't. But you
know who did." She looked at him searchingly.
"I swear by all that's holy, I don't!"
Miss Lorry laughed disagreeably. "Fancy Giles Merry talking of holy
things. Cain's worth a dozen of you."
"The young fool! He's going to join the Salvationists!"
"And a good job too," cried Miss Lorry, with a pleased look, "he may
convert you."
"Let him try," said the affectionate father, "and I'll smash him."
"Perhaps you'd rather Cain joined Father Don, and Red Jerry and Foxy.
Oh, I saw you talking to Jerry and Foxy at Westhaven. It's my belief,"
added Miss Lorry, crushing her egg-shell, "that those two have
something to do with Strode's end."
"Why don't you tell the police so?"
"Because I've got my own fish to fry," retorted Miss Lorry, rising and
wiping her mouth; "but the presence of London thieves at Westhaven
when a gentleman was murdered and robbed, looks queer. If the police
knew they'd collar Jerry and Foxy and Father Don too. I fancy you
would be brought into the matter."
"Look here," cried Antonio with an oath, "do you charge me, or any of
those three with murder?"
"No, I don't. I only know that you were Strode's pal in the old days,
and that you did a lot of dirty work for him. You're in with a bad
lot, Giles, and will come to a bad end. I only wish I could rescue
that poor little brat of a Butsey from you, but the boy's past
reforming. I know nothing of him, save that he has an admiration for
me, and ran my errands, so that is why I want him to deliver this
letter. You'll try and learn who the letter is written to, Giles: but
you won't. I can trust Butsey. But why don't you turn honest, man,
and make money?"
"How can I? Honest men don't make money. And I gain my living honestly
enough as a strong man with Stag."
"Ah, that's a blind to cloak your real character. You're in with
Father Don's gang. Why not split on them?" Miss Lorry leaned forward
and spoke softly. "For instance, why not call on Mr. Strode's lawyer
and tell him Red Jerry came home from Africa about the same time that
Strode did?"
"What good would that do?"
"I can't say. Mask knows something, and I want that something told, so
that Miss Strode may marry Allen Hill, and be put out of my way, for
me to marry Saltars. He admires her, and I want her safely married,
beyond his reach. If you told about Red Jerry, Mask might be able to
get back Miss Strode's fortune."
"What!"--Giles pricked up his ears--"Fortune?"
"Forty thousand pounds, Giles, in diamonds, I fancy."
Antonio sat down. "I never knew Strode was so rich," he said. "Why,
the liar told me at Brentwood that he'd made no money."
"I don't wonder at that," said Miss Lorry; "he knew you'd blackmail him
if he confessed to having money."
"I knew enough to make things hot for him," said Giles, biting his
large, square fingers, "but I never knew he was rich. Lord, forty
thousand pounds! If I'd known that----"
"You'd have killed him to get it."
"I don't say that," growled Giles, putting on his hat, "and as I didn't
kill him, there's no more to be said. Where's the money now?"
Miss Lorry looked curiously at him. "You should know!"
"What the blazes do you mean?"
"Oh, if you don't know there's no more to be said. As Strode is dead,
you can't get the money now. Your blackmailing is of no value. Miss
Strode will get the diamonds and marry Mr. Allen Hill."
"Hill?" said Giles thoughtfully; "does he take after that fool of a
father of his?"
"No; he's a man and not a whimpering ass like Lawrence Hill."
Giles stood musing at the door. "So Miss Strode will get the
diamonds?" he said; "blest if I don't see her, and----"
Miss Lorry whirled round. "You leave her alone or I'll make things
unpleasant for you. The poor girl has sorrow enough, and she's a good
girl."
"Keep your hair on, I'll do nothing--at present," added Antonio
significantly: and with an ironical bow he departed.
Miss Lorry clutched her breast with a frown. "I'll write that letter
and send it by Butsey," she said determinedly.