whose evidence was translated by one of the many aldermen present to
assist in case of need. It appeared that in her young days she had made
the acquaintance of a young and handsome Sicilian waiter, a distant
cousin, and a native of the village in which she was born. So friendly
did they become in time that he had confided to her many of the secrets
of his life, and, amongst others, one that had weighed very heavily upon
his mind. Some time previously, when employed at a well-known
refreshment hall, on the coast of Lombardy, he had waited upon a
distinguished young gentleman of considerable means, and had overheard
him whisper to a chance acquaintance, seated at the next table, that a
friend of his, a tall dark man, had met a young lady at a whist-party,
whose greatest friend had an aunt, formerly engaged to a well-meaning
curate, who averred that his brother knew for certain that IT WAS DONE
QUITE INTENTIONALLY BY ---- Here the waiter was called away to another
client, and did not hear the rest of the sentence.
'Now the Sicilian char-woman, on hearing this from her good friend, was
much puzzled, and not knowing to whom the words might refer, made a
mental note of it at the time. On reading of the arrest of the doctor,
however, and of what he was accused, she concluded that there must be
some connection between him and the man mentioned by the brother of the
well-meaning curate formerly engaged to the aunt of the greatest friend
of the young lady who was met at the whist party by the tall dark friend
of the young gentleman of considerable means who, as you know, was
waited upon by the Sicilian waiter at the well-known refreshment hall in
Lombardy, so she had hastened from Sicily to tell her tale. At the
conclusion of her evidence a murmur of admiration was heard all over the
court, and the Lord Mayor was so charmed with her and the really
pleasant way in which she had told her tale, that he lightly threw a
half-crown to her across the hall, which she very neatly caught. She
then sat down, amidst the cheers of the crowd.
'The principal witness for the defence was a young journeyman tailor,
who stated that on cleaning out the pockets of an old coat which had
been left at his house for repairs by a dark gentleman of mysterious
appearance, he had discovered an old envelope upon which he could just
trace the figures 56--6.30 A.M. The coat was never called for, and the
tailor pondered over the envelope, but could make nothing of it. He
showed it to every policeman of his acquaintance, but not one could
unravel the mystery, and, as a last resource, he procured an
introduction to the principal policeman in the British Museum Library.
This great man examined the envelope very carefully, but with no result,
and the only advice he could give him was to call at every house
numbered 56 at 6.30 in the morning and see what would happen.
'The tailor followed this advice diligently for some time and met with
many rebuffs, as he had nothing to say on the door being opened to him.
At length one morning he came to an empty house numbered 56, the steps
of which were littered with straw. Gazing hopelessly at this for some
time, he noticed that three pieces pointed distinctly in one direction
to the corner of the street, and you may well imagine his surprise when,
on following the direction indicated by the straw, he came across this
postcard.'
Ptolemy Jenkinson here handed this torn postcard to the company.
[Illustration: POSTCARD]
Ptolemy again proceeded with his story:--
'Now the tailor, more puzzled than ever, took the card home, and, after
weeks of deep thinking, decided that the card must have been completed
thus.'
Ptolemy here handed the remaining portion of card, with the tailor's
suggested completion, to the company.
'You may guess the surprise of every one present when the tailor
produced the completed card. The Lord Mayor gazed at it in astonishment.
He turned it over and over, and suddenly noticing that there was a
foreign stamp on the other side, he became more excited than ever, and
asked if he might tear it off, as his son had rather a good collection.
This the tailor readily allowed him to do, and this put the Lord Mayor
in a good temper for the rest of the afternoon, and gave a more cheerful
aspect to the case altogether.
[Illustration: POSTCARD]
'After the tailor's evidence, which, of course, proved that the doctor
had not intended to bring about the harm of which he had been the
unfortunate cause, there was nothing for the Lord Mayor to do but to
acquit the prisoner, which he did, much to everybody's relief.
'The Lord Mayor then retired, after ordering a new suit of clothes from
the journeyman tailor, and inviting the Sicilian charwoman and the other
witnesses to progressive whist and to be introduced to his family.
'So, Gentlemen,' said Ptolemy in conclusion, 'my uncle and myself are
quite free at last, and entirely at your service.'
Such a valuable offer could not very well be refused, so, after
explaining the object of the expedition to their new friends, the whole
force moved joyfully on.
[Illustration: tailpiece]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN
AND THE BOY SCOUT]
[Illustration: headpiece]
THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN AND THE BOY SCOUT
In due time the gallant army arrived at the little town of Killgruel, a
very respectable place indeed, at which they spent the pleasantest of
week-ends, entertained at 'At Homes,' soirees, and receptions, to any
number of which every member of the expedition was invited during their
brief stay. Bill and the King were the guests of the very respectable
and Right Honourable Hesketh Fitzgreynib, the Mayor of Killgruel, who
entertained them with the extremest gentility imaginable. So respectable
and genteel was their host, that it had been said of him that never had
he been known to don the same suit twice, having at the very least a new
one every day; nor had he ever been seen to remove his lavender gloves
even at meal times. It was also reported that, not content with bowing
most politely to every one he met in the street, he behaved in a like
genteel manner to all the pillar-boxes and lamp-posts that he passed
upon his way, and that he always walked sideways down the street with
his back to the wall, in order that he should not be compelled to turn
it upon the passers-by. Whether these reports are true or not, it is
certain that he was the most gentlemanly gentleman in all Killgruel, a
town which could boast more elegant and refined people than any other
town in the whole world.
He was indeed the pride of Killgruel, and so respected by his
fellow-townsmen, who valued him greatly for his exceptional
gentlemanliness, that he was not allowed to soil his hands by so much as
a stroke of work, but only to be respectable from morning to night. An
intelligent boy scout was employed to look after him, and even to think
for him, with orders never on any account to leave him, so that in time
this respectable gentleman became very respectable indeed, and relying
for almost everything on the intelligence and affection of the boy
scout, who now performed for him even his duties as Mayor of Killgruel,
the good man was enabled to devote his whole thoughts to the
cultivation of his respectability.
His good wife, the Lady Lilian Leankettle, who was extravagantly devoted
to her husband, shone in the same brilliant manner, and was quoted as a
model of gentility by all the good wives of the little community, while
Bildith, their charming and handsome daughter, gave every promise of
inheriting their interesting ways.
But delightful as all this was to the band of warriors, on Monday
morning they were compelled to resume their journey. It was, however, so
early when they were ready to start that the gates of the town were not
unlocked, so the Honourable Hesketh, with whom, as Mayor of Killgruel,
the keys were always left at night, allowed the scout to take the keys
and let the wanderers out. After a charmingly polite farewell from the
Right Honourable Hesketh and others of their entertainers who had
gathered by the town hall to see them off, the gallant band marched down
the high street towards the only gate of the town, headed by the
intelligent boy scout. From the first the King showed symptoms of being
rather unmanageable, and Bill had great difficulty in getting him past
the shops, which were now all taking down their shutters, and when they
arrived at the sweet-stuff shop there was nothing for it but to go in
and buy him some cocoanut ice.
At length they managed to get clear of the gates, which were then
closed with a bang behind them, and the last they saw of the intelligent
boy scout was with the great town keys held firmly between his teeth, in
order that he might hold with one hand the top of the wall to which he
had hastily climbed, while with the other he waved a fond good-bye to
the departing wanderers.
With a great gurgling cry, which all took to be one of grief at their
departure, the affectionate lad suddenly disappeared and the brave
fellows resumed their march.
Their road now took them across the mountains at the foot of which
nestled the little town of Killgruel. Towards evening the noble fellows
were crossing the highest peaks of the range, weary, and looking forward
to their supper and a good night's rest, both of which they proposed to
take in the woods on the other side of the mountains. Every one now
began to notice that the old King seemed worried about something or
other, and the further they marched the more fidgety he became, until at
last, when they had nearly descended to the woods on the other side, the
old aggravator called his general to him and said:--'Bill, did you
happen to notice in the window of the principal sweet-stuff shop in the
Killgruel high street, three fine fat sticks of liquorice leaning
against the bottle containing the pear drops? Well, I can't get them out
of my mind.' Bill tried to persuade him to forget them, and talked of
many other things, in order to distract him from such thoughts.
Presently he appeared to grow easier, and as he did not for some time
again refer to the liquorice sticks, Bill was pleased to think that he
had been successful in directing the old boy's thoughts into another
channel. However, as they were unpacking their things in the woods at
which they had now arrived and were lighting fires, preparatory to
cooking their suppers, the truly exasperating creature again called Bill
to him. 'Bill,' said he, with the most miserable face in the world,
'it's no good. I can't forget 'em, try as I will. I don't want any of
that nasty porridge I know they are about to prepare for supper. I must
have some of those liquorice sticks.'
Hiding his annoyance as much as he could, Bill tried to convince him how
nice porridge really is and how good for him, but the discontented old
man, who no doubt had been very much spoilt as a boy, would hear nothing
of it. 'I don't want to be done good to,' cried he, 'and if I don't have
those liquorice sticks to-night before I go to bed I know I shall get
the fidgets and not be able to sleep a wink.'
Bill now pointed out the difficulty of obtaining the liquorice, the
distance being so great that it would be impossible to have it brought
to the camp before midnight at the very earliest.
The King, however, was obdurate, and Bill was now compelled, much
against his will, to summon the whole army together and call for a
volunteer to fetch the liquorice, but not one, not even the pluckful
Chad, would venture to return alone to Killgruel along the dreary
mountain road in the gathering night. Bill then suggested that two or
three should return together and keep each other company, but it was of
no avail. At last, the only way out of the difficulty that occurred to
Bill was for half the army to return for the liquorice, and the other
half to remain in the woods; but here yet another difficulty arose, for
no one would stay in the woods with the army weakened to that extent.
[Illustration: BOWING POLITELY TO THE PILLAR BOXES]
At length Bill returned to the whimpering old potentate and once more
endeavoured to dissuade him from his selfish purpose, but the more Bill
talked, the more obstinate the old King became, and had it not been for
the severe training Bill had had as a minder, he must assuredly have
lost control of his temper.
[Illustration: THE CHURCH STEEPLE HAD BEEN REMOVED]
'I must have that liquorice,' whined the old grizzler, 'and if there is
no other way of obtaining it the whole army must pack up sticks and
return to Killgruel.'
Many were the growls of discontent uttered by the poor fellows when Bill
gave the necessary orders to pack up again and prepare to return over
the mountains. Only by dint of the kindest words did he restrain a
mutiny, encouraging them at the same time to humour the old baby and put
up with his strange ways until he was restored to his throne, when, no
doubt, he would make it up to them in many ways.
In a little time the brave fellows were all on the march again, but the
day was breaking by the time they arrived once more before the walls of
Killgruel, all utterly tired, grumpy, and footsore. Bill strode up to
the gates of the town, which, of course, at that time of the morning
were still closed, and pulled the bell vigorously. He waited some time,
and as there was no reply, he pulled the bell again, and then, after
another interval, he rang it with all his force, but with no result
whatever. He could now, however, hear a great muttering on the other
side of the wall and considerable running to and fro, so he determined
to wait patiently. At length the little wicket in the gate was opened
and one of the Killgruellers looked out, and, recognising Bill and his
comrades, hastily shut the wicket again after promising to fetch the
Mayor.
Bill now waited a very long time before the wicket opened again, and in
the meantime his poor comrades, nearly overcome with their fatigue and
their hunger, had set up their camp before the walls and prepared their
breakfast, after eating which not one of them was able to keep his eyes
open a moment longer, and all fell fast asleep before their fires. Even
the old King dozed off and snored peacefully in his tent, forgetting,
for the first time in twenty-four hours, the sticks of liquorice, upon
the enjoyment of which he had so much set his heart.
[Illustration: STANDING ALONE UPON THE WALLS]
Bill alone of the whole force remained awake, and waited and waited, and
as he stood before the gates of the little town, the noise within grew
louder and louder until there was a terrific hub-bub within the walls.
At last the wicket opened and the face of the respectable Mayor appeared
in the little opening, but so altered that at first Bill hardly
recognised his good host of the day before, so upset and disturbed did
he seem.
The poor man then in the most nervous manner explained that no one in
the town had seen anything of the boy scout nor of the town keys since
he had let the army out of the gate the previous morning, and until they
found them it was, of course, impossible to let any one in. However, the
good fellow (who certainly seemed rather helpless without his faithful
attendant), besought Bill to wait patiently, as they had not yet given
up hope of being able to open the gate. The wicket was again hurriedly
closed, and Bill, sitting down by the gate, prepared to wait as
patiently as he could. So tired, however, was the noble lad, that in
spite of all his endeavours to remain awake he soon fell fast asleep.
Long and deeply did he slumber, when he was awakened by a most terrible
and deafening noise within the town, which had been growing greater and
greater during his repose.
Fortunately all in the camp, on account of their great fatigue, were so
deep in sleep that the great uproar was unable to awaken them, but Bill
at once stood up and scaled the walls to ascertain if possible the cause
of the awful din.
The hub-bub was truly deafening, and from his position on the walls Bill
could see all over the little town, which was in a shocking state of
confusion. The contents of every house were turned into the streets,
and the distracted inhabitants everywhere hunting amongst the furniture
and taking it to pieces in their search for the lost keys. Beds were cut
open and discharged their feathers in great clouds that floated about
the town; the church steeple had been removed and shaken, and the inside
well scoured; many of the good people were descending chimneys attached
to lines; pavements were lifted, cellars ransacked, the Town Hall taken
to little pieces, old houses pulled down, pillar-boxes cleared out, and
lamp-posts blown through by the perplexed and almost frantic
Killgruellers in their efforts to find the lost keys. All the milk, the
wine, the water, the lemonade and the gravy were being strained through
butterfly nets or lawn tennis rackets, and, after melting it down, all
the butter, dripping and lard was treated in the same way. The treacle
tanks and great reservoirs of linseed tea were thoroughly dragged, but
with no result whatever.
A great procession of the townsmen nearly filled the high street which
led from the gate to the further end of the town. One by one they
approached the gates and tried every key they possessed. All kinds of
keys, latch keys, watch keys, cupboard keys, box keys were tried, but
not one could be found that would open the lock. To make matters even
more unbearable, the respectable Mayor, to whom, of course, every one
looked for direction and advice in their trouble, was of no earthly use
whatever without his scout, upon whom he had so accustomed himself to
rely, that he was perfectly helpless without him. His respectability,
exert it as much as he would, made no difference of any kind upon the
situation, except, perhaps, to place the poor man in everybody's way.
[Illustration: DANGLING BY HIS LEGS]
Bill returned to the King who, with the whole camp, was now wide awake,
and wondering what on earth was taking place in the town. Bill at once
hastened to explain the state of things, in the hope that the old man
would at last give up all idea of the liquorice; but in this he was
much mistaken, for, instead of replying to Bill, the grumpy old provoker
turned sulky and would not say a word, so that there was nothing for the
poor lad to do but to wait with what patience he could assume.
The day declined, with no lessening of the terrific din within the town,
and the gates remained obstinately closed. As evening approached, little
clouds of smoke, with now and again a spurt of flame, could be seen
rising from the other side of the walls. Presently a single Killgrueller
was observed upon the walls, from which he nimbly leapt to the ground on
the outer side, and made off round the base of the mountains, in an
opposite direction to the camp. Now another appeared and disappeared in
the same way; then another and another, and yet another, and then
families of two, three, and four. At last whole crowds came scrambling
over the walls, and vanished in the same direction, all carrying as many
of their belongings as they could conveniently bring along with them.
This went on until all the inhabitants, with the exception of the Mayor,
had left the now blazing town, when he was seen standing alone upon the
walls. Like the captain of a sinking ship, the noble fellow had waited
until all had found safety before he sought it for himself. Bill
hastened to assist him in his descent, and no sooner had the poor man
reached the ground than Bill led him gently before the King and all the
officers of the little army, who were assembled together watching
the flames, and besought him to give them some explanation of these
truly unaccountable proceedings of the Killgruellers.
[Illustration: The Respectable Gentleman]
'Alas! and alack-a-day!' sighed the unfortunate gentleman, 'allow me
first of all to put four questions to you. Firstly, What is the good of
a locked lock without a key?'
They were all forced to admit that it was of no use whatever.
'Secondly, What is the good of a gate with a useless lock that won't
unlock?'
No earthly use, all again admitted.
'Thirdly, What is the use of a town if you can't get into it?'
Of course, they all agreed there was only one answer to that.
'And now, fourthly and lastly,' said the Mayor, 'What do you do with all
useless things?'
'Destroy them,' Bill promptly rejoined.
'Exactly,' said the Right Honourable Hesketh, 'and that is what we have
done with our now useless town, and all the inhabitants are hastening to
build another town on the further side of the mountain, the gates of
which shall always be nailed open in order that such a dreadful calamity
may not occur again.'
Bill somehow could not help thinking that there might have been another
way out of the difficulty, but he did not like to say so. The old King
at last realised that the Killgruel liquorice was not for him, so he
offered no serious objections when Bill, early next morning, gave the
necessary orders to pack up and prepare for the march, which they now
resumed. The respectable gentleman preferred to remain with them rather
than again face the unfortunate Killgruellers.
They had not advanced very far upon their road, when Bill, who generally
walked a little in advance of his troop, heard a strange clanking noise
that appeared to proceed from a tall tree at the wayside. Wondering what
odd bird possessed such an unmusical song, he allowed his gaze to wander
thoughtfully among the leaves when, suddenly, what should he behold but
the form of the vanished scout, dangling by his legs from a branch, and
every time the tree was gently stirred by the breeze, there came forth
upon the air this weird sound.
Bill hastened to cut him down, but, to his unspeakable surprise, the
unhappy young stripling cried, 'Don't, don't! the keys! the keys!' He
then explained that when bidding farewell to them the other morning from
the walls of Killgruel, in his excitement he had suddenly fallen back
and swallowed the keys which, at the time, he had been holding between
his teeth. Bill now recalled the strange cry that the poor lad had
uttered as they left Killgruel on that occasion. However, in spite of
his reluctance to be right side up again until he had recovered the
keys, Bill insisted on fetching him down, and, in the severe struggle
that ensued, the keys fell out of the boy's throat.
When at length the army came upon the scene, nothing could exceed the
joy of the respectable Mayor at beholding his good attendant, whom he
had despaired of ever seeing again. He easily persuaded the willing
young creature to remain with him, and share the fortunes of the King of
Troy, and thus, with this very welcome addition to their forces, the
gallant band marched on.
[Illustration: tailpiece]
[Illustration: vignette]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN]
[Illustration: headpiece]
THE SICILIAN CHAR-WOMAN
Some weeks after leaving Killgruel, the noble little band entered a
great forest, in the middle of which they overtook a stately char-woman;
and no sooner did the Doctor behold her than he left the ranks, and
going up to her, shook her kindly by the hand. He then introduced her to
the King as the Sicilian Char-woman, and very chatty and pleasant she
proved to be, and as she was travelling in the same direction, she
graciously entertained them with the story of her life:--
'You may indeed find it more than difficult to believe me when I aver
that I am the daughter of an Arabian Prince, and that in my early years
I was considered not merely the most intelligent, but also the most
beautiful and fascinating creature in my father's dominion. As
companions in my early childhood I had sixteen elder sisters, all of
whom were blessed with singularly affectionate natures, and were
generally declared to be only less beautiful and intelligent than
myself. No care or expense was spared in our education and in fitting us
for the truly exalted position it was hoped that we should occupy, as
the daughters of a distinguished Arabian Prince. With this good end in
view, the services were secured of the best of music-masters,
dancing-masters, and instructors in the many graceful accomplishments
that were becoming to our rank; yet, alas! with all that one could
reasonably ask for, with every whim and wish gratified almost before it
was expressed, with the most indulgent of parents, whose sole joy was to
fill our lives with happiness, a settled melancholy by degrees possessed
my soul and rendered me unfit to share the youthful pleasures of my
sisters. It was not that I was in any way unmindful of all the kindness
shown to me in countless ways, but that a craving, always with me since
my earliest days, to see the wonderful world I had so often heard
described in glowing terms, grew with me as time went by, and, weary of
the idle life I led, I longed to use and develop in wider fields the
great intelligence I had been gifted with.