As I rose, however, from my crouching position quite a startling climax
to that morning's adventure occurred. All at once I caught sight of the
recess in which was concealed the steel box containing the manuscript
forgeries, and I saw in a flash what an excellent move it would be for
me to remove the thing to a place where I could conveniently lay hands
upon it whenever I wanted it. In imagination I pictured the surprise of
the Jesuit spies, for instance, when they had disgorged large sums to
Master Paul downstairs, only to find, when the youth reached out for the
deeds, they had vanished! Indeed, I am afraid I chuckled quite loudly
when I whipped out my jack-knife and attacked the thin boarding that
shut me off from this imitation treasure, so excellent did I conceive
this act as a piece of pure inoffensive humour. Fate, too, aided me in
the business, for in less than five minutes I had not only got at the
precious casket but had forced the steel lid, taken out the forgeries
and wrapped them up in a piece of canvas, which I placed in my pocket,
and pushed the box back, but I had actually slipped out of my
hiding-place and crept down the stairs to the shop, the front door of
which luckily stood open.
In fact, it was not until I had got into a cab and was whirling away in
the direction of Lambeth Bridge that I really appreciated what a daring
thing I had done. Then I lay back in my seat and chuckled loudly.
Waterloo Station, as usual, was crowded with people hastening to one or
other race meeting, a river excursion, or a boat special, but I managed
to get a cosy corner in a first-class carriage of the express for
Southampton, and was soon clattering through Vauxhall and Clapham
Junction, hard on my journey to the Solent.
At first I admit I was too excited by the stirring scenes I had passed
through to think of anything else--even Casteno's mysterious sharpening
of his dagger, his disappearance from my office, and the brutal
slaughter of Colonel Napier's spaniel. But the steady roar of the
train, the ceaseless throb of the engine, soon calmed my mind and
steadied my nerve, and I caught himself wondering what kind of girl
could be this Camille Velasquon whom I had undertaken to meet. She
could scarcely be an ordinary type of girl, I was certain, to be
associated in any measure with Jose Casteno.
In point of fact, I eventually decided that she must be a very
extraordinary girl altogether to cross from Mexico to England merely
with certain valuable papers for that weird organisation of monks, the
Order of St Bruno. Further than that I don't think I was able to make
up my mind. All that suggested danger to her, an attempt at abduction,
and so forth--which, remember, Casteno had warned me against--I own I
could not appreciate. It is always hard to believe that perils like
those lurk in this calm, peaceful England of ours. Yet they do, as I
was destined to find very soon to my cost.
After this I supposed I must have napped for a time, for when next I
looked out of the carriage window I found that the train was slowing its
speed preparatory to entering Southampton. Luckily, the carriage I was
in contained no other passengers, and I was able to pull myself together
and munch a few biscuits before I had to hasten across the road outside
the station and to march through the big dock gates, guarded by a burly
constable, to that corner where incoming royal mail steamers are always
berthed.
As it happened, the _Atrato_ had not yet put in an appearance, and there
were the usual crowds of anxious relatives, husbands, sweethearts, and
loafers on the dock side, some brimming over with enjoyment at the
prospect of near meetings with their loved ones, others looking nervous
and fretful, as though they were the bearers of bad tidings to the
returned exiles, or at all events feared the news which the incoming
friends were carrying.
One woman in particular attracted my attention--a tall, commanding
figure in black, in widow's weeds, but with two of the most evil-looking
eyes I had ever seen. Somehow this creature fascinated me. Her walk;
her hands, which, luckily, were destitute of gloves; her expression on
her thin, tightly-pressed lips; the cut of her chin when she raised her
veil to get a better view of the approaching vessel, all told their
striking yet deeply suggestive tale of character revealed by externals.
And the tale was in every respect the same: the woman was bad, through
and through.
"Who on earth can she have come to meet?" I asked myself, with the
curiosity that besets most observant folk in crowds when an awkward
pause has come and there is nothing to do but to wait with what patience
one can find, eager to pick up any casual amusement. "Not a husband,
certainly, nor a lover, for in that case she would never parade those
sable garments with so much unction. It must be a friend of some sort,
but then who would, or could, be a friend to so diabolical a creature as
that is, even to look at?"
Just then the excitement of the boat's arrival caught up the crowd, and
I had all my attention engaged in my own work, in piloting myself well
to the front, in rushing across the gangway on to the vessel, and by a
judicious bribe of half-a-sovereign getting one of the stewards to
conduct me straight away to the girl I was in search of--Miss Camille
Velasquon--who greeted me with one of the prettiest and most honest of
Spanish faces I had ever seen, and who shook my hand as warmly as though
we had been friends in the long ago, for years and years. In age she
could not, certainly, have been more than twenty, but there was a
certain air of good style about her and her clothes that suggested
wealth and a consciousness of considerable social importance.
"Jose telegraphed me and told me to rely on you," she whispered in a low
voice, "and I will. As a matter of fact, I have carefully studied all
the other first-class passengers and there is no one amongst them whom
we need fear, so we must look for enemies amongst the people on the dock
side."
"I think I can protect you all right," I replied, with a smile as bright
and infectious as her own. "But take my arm, look as though you
belonged to me, as if we were brother and sister, in point of fact.
What about your luggage?"
"That will be sent on," she returned quickly, stepping out bravely
beside me. "I arranged all that with the stewardess, who for the time
will treat it as her own. I knew time pressed, and so I did all I could
to facilitate my departure."
"Then let us make the most of your foresight," I said, and elbowing our
way through the crowd the pair of us passed quickly out of the dock and
soon hid ourselves in the refreshment room of the station, from which we
passed rapidly to a slow train, which a porter explained would
eventually land us in London, but would take four hours over the
process.
"It is safety before speed we must study at this point," I whispered to
my companion; and we were just congratulating ourselves that we had got
the carriage to ourselves as the guard's whistle sounded, and had
slipped out of Southampton with great discretion, when a most unexpected
thing happened.
The carriage door opened suddenly, and in there stepped that
evil-looking woman in black I had noted on the dock side.
The next instant the train rumbled off.
"Confound it," I said to Miss Velasquon, "I never bargained for this. I
think we had better change at the next station."
Evidently the stranger heard my whisper, for she looked up.
"You may change, sir," she said icily, "and I advise you to do so, but
your companion won't." And her hands came together with a vicious snap.
"How--what the dickens do you mean?" I blurted out, and my eyes flashed
fire.
"This," the woman answered: "Miss Camille Velasquon, as it happens, is
in my, not your, charge. Unfortunately, she is an escaped criminal
lunatic, and it is my business, with the aid of some friends in the
adjacent compartment, to convey her at once to Broadmoor Asylum."