At ten o'clock a constable came with a message from the Lieutenant to
Mr. Chetwynd that he would be glad if he would come down to the watch
house. Dick did not wake the others, but freshening himself up by
pouring a jug of water over his head, went at once with the constable.
“Have you news?” he asked eagerly as he entered.
“Yes, the men returned an hour ago. At four of the houses they went to
a foreign sailor had been lodging there for the last day or so, but
yesterday afternoon all had paid their reckoning and left. Then the idea
struck me that it would be as well to ask if they had been seen on the
quays, and I sent off a fresh batch of men to make inquiries. A quarter
of an hour ago one of them came back with the news that he had learned
from a sailor that he had noticed a dark colored foreigner, whom he took
to be a Lascar sailor, talking to a boatman, and that they had rowed off
together to a barge anchored a short way out; he did not notice anything
more about him.
“Now, I should not be at all surprised if the fellow went off to arrange
with the bargeman for a passage for himself and four or five comrades to
some port or other, it might be anywhere. It would make no difference to
them where the barge was bound for. No doubt he saw the man again after
the brig was sighted, and told him that they should come on board soon
after it got dark, and told him to have the boat at the stairs. You
see, in that case they might not have carried Mr. Thorndyke above fifty
yards. They would probably get him on board as one of their party who
had been drunk. The barge, no doubt, got under way about nine o'clock,
which is the hour when the tide was high last night, and during the
night the Indians could easily drop your friend overboard--and may
even have done so before they got under way, which would have been the
easiest thing to do. There would have been no one at the helm, and they
could have chosen a moment when the crew, probably only three, were
below. I am afraid that this is not a cheering lookout, but I have
little doubt that it is the correct one.
“I have told my men to find out what barge was lying at the spot the
sailor pointed out, and if we discover her name, which we are likely to
be able to do, there will be no difficulty in finding out to whom she
belongs and where she was bound for. Then we can follow it up; though
there is little likelihood of our finding the murderers still on board.”
“Thank you very much for the pains that you are taking, sir,” Dick said.
“I am afraid that there is no shadow of hope of finding my poor friend
alive. I have no doubt that the thing has happened exactly as you
suggest; the whole course of the affair shows how carefully it was
planned, and I have no hope that any scruple about taking life would be
felt by them for a moment. I will go back to the hotel, and I shall be
obliged if you will let me know as soon as you obtain any clew as to the
barge.”
An hour and a half later the officer himself came round to the room
where Dick Chetwynd and the two pugilists were sitting. The detectives
had started out to make inquiries on their own account, taking with them
a hanger on at the hotel who spoke English.
“The barge's name was the Julie,” he said; “she has a cargo on board for
Rotterdam.”
“I think the best thing would be to take a carriage, and drive there at
once,” Dick said.
“You can do that, sir, but I don't think you will be there before the
barge; they have something like eighteen hours' start for you, and the
wind has been all the time in the east. I should say that they would be
there by eight o'clock this morning.”
“No, I don't know that it would be of any use, but at least it would be
doing something. I suppose we could be there in four hours?”
“From that to five; but even if the barge were delayed, and you got
there first, which is very unlikely, I do not think that there would be
the remotest chance of finding those villains on board. I reckon they
would, as we agreed, launch the body overboard even before they got
under way here, and they may either have landed again before the craft
got under way, pretending that they had changed their minds, and then
walked across to The Hague or to Haarlem, or have gone on with the barge
for two hours, or even until daybreak. If by that time they were near
Rotterdam, they may have stayed on board till they got there; if not,
they may have landed, and finished the journey on foot, but they would
certainly not have stopped on board after six or seven o'clock this
morning. They would calculate that possibly we might get on their track
at an early hour this morning, and set out in pursuit at once.
“However, it will doubtless be a satisfaction to you to be moving,
and at least you will be able to overhaul the barge when you get to
Rotterdam, and to hear what the boatmen say. The chances are they will
not even have noticed that one of the men who came on board was missing.
The men may very well have made up a long bundle, carried it on shore
with them, or three of them may have carried a fourth ashore; and in the
dark the bargemen were unlikely to have noticed that the number was less
than when they came on board. However, it will be something for you to
find out when and where the fellows landed.”
“Yes; I should certainly like to lay hands on them, though I am afraid
we should find it very hard to prove that they had anything to do with
this affair.”
“I think that also, Mr. Chetwynd. Morally, we may feel absolutely
certain; but, unless the boatmen noticed that one of their number was
missing when they landed, we have at present no evidence to connect them
with it.”
“We will set out as soon as my other two men return. I told them to be
back soon after twelve. I will write to you this evening from Rotterdam.
Ah! here are the men.”
The door opened, and, to the stupefaction of the party, Mark Thorndyke
entered the room.
“Good Heavens, Mark!” Dick exclaimed, springing forward and seizing
his hand, “is it really you alive in the flesh? We had given you up for
dead. We have been searching the town for you all night, and were just
going to set out for Rotterdam in search of a barge on which we believed
you were carried. Why, it seems almost a miracle!”
The two prize fighters also came forward, and shook hands with a
pressure that would have made most men shrink.
“I am as glad, Mr. Thorndyke,” Gibbons said, “as if anyone had given me
a thousand pounds. I have never quite given up hope, for, as I said to
Mr. Chetwynd, if you got but a shadow of a chance, you would polish off
those nigger fellows in no time; but I was afraid that they never would
give you a chance. Well, I am glad, sir.”
“Mark, this is the Lieutenant of the watch here,” Dick said. “He has
been most kind, and has himself headed the search that has been made for
you all night. Now tell us all about it.”
“First of all give me something to drink, for, except some water, I have
had nothing since dinner yesterday. You are right, Dick; it is almost a
miracle, even to me, that I am here. I would not have given a penny for
my chance of life, and I can no more account for the fact that I am here
than you can.”
Mark drank off a tumbler of weak spirits and water that Gibbons poured
out for him. Chetwynd rang the bell, and ordered lunch to be brought
up at once. Just at this moment the two detectives came in, and were
astonished and delighted at finding Mark there.
“Now,” he said, “I will tell you as much as I know, which is little
enough. When I came to my senses I found myself lying on the deck of a
craft of some sort; it was a long time before I could at all understand
how I got there. I think it was the pain from the back of my head that
brought it to my mind that I must have been knocked down and stunned in
that fight; for some time I was very vague in my brain as to that, but
it all came back suddenly, and I recalled that we had all got separated.
I was hitting out, and then there was a crash. Yes, I must have been
knocked down and stunned, and I could only suppose that in the darkness
and confusion I had been carried off and taken on board without any of
you missing me; my hands and feet were tied, and there was something
shoved into my mouth that prevented me from speaking.
“I should think that it must have been an hour before I quite recovered
my senses, and got the thing fairly into my mind. Then a man with a
knife leant over me, and made signs that if I spoke he would stab me,
and another took the gag out of my mouth and poured some water down my
throat, and then put it in again. I saw that he was a dark colored man,
and I then understood it all; it was those Hindoos who had got up the
attack upon us and had carried me off. I had no doubt they had got the
diamonds I had sewn up in the waistband of my trousers.
“I wondered why they were keeping me, but was sure they would stab
me presently and throw me overboard. I knew that they had killed two
soldiers for the sake of the diamonds, and if it hadn't been that they
had given me the water, I should not have had a shadow of doubt about my
fate.”
“I puzzled over why they should have done so, and came to the conclusion
that they dared not do it on board, because of the crew, and that they
intended to take me on shore somewhere, and there dispose of me. I made
many attempts to loosen my ropes, but they would not give the slightest.
At last I think I dozed off for a time. After I had had the water they
drew a blanket or something of that sort over me. It had been there
before, but it had only been pulled up as high as my nose, and I felt
sure that it was only done to prevent the Dutchmen on the boat seeing
that I was bound and gagged; this time they pulled it right over my
face. When they took it off again I could see it was nearly morning, for
there was a faint light in the sky. They were moving about on the deck,
and presently I saw one of the sailors get into the boat and pull it
along, hand over hand, by the rail, until he was close to me. Then four
Lascar sort of chaps--I could scarcely make out their features--lifted
me and lowered me into the boat and got in themselves.
“I did not attempt to struggle. No doubt they had made up some tale
that I was mad or something of that sort, and I thought that I had best
pretend to be quiet and peaceable till I could see some sort of chance
of making a fight for it. It was but a few yards from the shore. The man
lifted me out onto the bank, and the sailor then started to row back
to the barge; they carried me a few yards away, and then laid me face
downwards on some grass. Now, I thought to myself, it is all over; they
are going to stab me and make off. To my surprise I felt they were
doing something--I could not make out what--to the ropes; then there
was quiet. I lay there I should think for half an hour, wondering why
on earth they did not finish me. At last I made up my mind to move,
and turned round onto my back. As I lay there I could see no one, and,
raising my head, looked round. To my amazement I found that I was alone.
It was now almost light, and as I craned my head in all directions I
assured myself that they had gone; then I began to try again at the
ropes.
“To my surprise I found that they were much looser than they were
before, although still tight enough to give me nearly an hour's work
before I got my hands free. Then it took me almost as long to get
the ropes off my legs, for they had knotted them in such a fearfully
intricate way that it was a long time before I could even discover where
the ends were. At last I finished the job, stood up, and looked round. A
quarter of a mile off there was a good sized town, but not a soul could
I see.
“Till now I had hardly thought of the diamonds; I put my hands to my
waistband and found, as I expected, that they were gone. I think I felt
nothing but pleasure: the confounded things had given trouble enough,
and I was well rid of them. Why they should have spared my life I could
not imagine. If they had finished me, which they could have done without
any risk to themselves when they got me ashore, they could have gone off
with the diamonds without the slightest fear of pursuit, while now there
was, of course, a chance that I might follow and recognize them.”
“Would you know them again?” the Lieutenant interrupted.
“Not in the slightest; it was light enough to see that they were dark,
but from the time the boat came along the blanket was over my head,
and except when they gave me the water I had no chance of seeing any
of their features. Still, if I had gone straight to the town I saw and
reported the matter to the authorities and sent mounted men to all the
ports to warn them not to let any colored men embark, I might have given
them a lot of trouble, but I don't suppose any of them would ever have
been caught. After the craft they had shown in the whole matter, it is
certain that they would have laid their plans for escape so well
that the law would never have laid hands upon them. I put my hand
mechanically to my watch to see the time, and to my astonishment
discovered that I still had it in my pocket, and was equally surprised
to find that the money in my trousers' pockets was also untouched. The
watch had, of course, stopped. I first of all went down to the water and
had a good wash; then I proceeded to the town, and, going to a hotel,
ordered breakfast.”
“Why, I thought you said that you had had nothing to eat, Mark.”
“Yes? Well, I had forgotten all about that breakfast. The people looked
a good deal surprised at an Englishman walking in in that way. While
I was eating my breakfast two men--who were, I suppose, authorities of
some kind--who spoke English, came and questioned me. As I had made up
my mind to say nothing more about the affair, I merely told them that I
had come for a sail from Amsterdam, and that I wanted a carriage to take
me back. They were evidently astonished at my choosing a dark night for
such a trip, but I said that I had some curiosity to see how the boatmen
navigated their vessel when there were no lighthouses or anything to
steer by. They asked a few more questions, and then went away, evidently
thinking that I was a little mad. However, they must have spoken to the
landlord, who in a short time made signs that the carriage was at the
door.
“I had avoided asking the men either the name of the place or how far
it was from any big town, because that would have made the whole affair
more singular. It was a quarter past eight when I started, and beyond
the fact that I know by the sun we came pretty nearly due east, I have
not the slightest idea of the road. The coachman could not speak a word
of English. I should say we came about seven miles an hour and stopped
once to bait the horses, so I suppose that it must have been between
four and five miles from Rotterdam when I landed.”
Lunch had by this time been laid on the table, and at Dick's invitation
the Lieutenant joined them.
“It is an extraordinary story!” he said. “That your life should have
been spared is altogether beyond my comprehension, still more so why
they should have left you your money and watch.”
“The whole story is extraordinary,” Dick Chetwynd said; “for we have
every reason to believe that those fellows, or at least one or two of
them, have been patiently watching for a chance of carrying off those
diamonds for twenty years. When my friend told me of it ten days ago I
did not believe that it could be possible; but he has certainly shown
that he was correct in his opinion.”
Mark then related the history of the jewels, surprising the pugilists
and detectives as much as the Lieutenant.
“It is extraordinary indeed,” the latter said. “I should not have
believed it possible that men would devote so many years to such a
purpose, nor that they could have succeeded in tracing the diamonds in
spite of the precaution taken by your uncle, and afterwards by yourself.
It would seem that from the time he landed in England he, and after him
your father and yourself, must have been watched almost night and day.
I can understand now why they did not take your watch and money.
They evidently acted from a sort of religious enthusiasm, and were no
ordinary thieves, but as evidently they did not hesitate to kill, I
cannot understand why they should have added to their risks by sparing
you.”
“No, that is what puzzles me,” Mark agreed. “I was thinking it over
while we were driving here. Now let me hear about the fight, Dick. How
did you all come out of it?”
“As well as could be expected. Gibbons and Tring both got some heavy
blows with the cudgels, as indeed we all did more or less, but they did
great execution. Eleven fellows were left senseless on the ground, and
one of them, that black fellow who came over with us, was killed. The
other ten are all in prison. All of us did our best, and managed to
leave our mark on eight others, who were in consequence picked out, and
are also in jail.”
Dick went on to relate the particulars of the search.
“You see, our friend here had traced you to the barge and found out her
destination, and if you had come ten minutes later you would have found
that we had all just started for Rotterdam. I was only waiting for
Chester and Malcolm to return to set out. I am sorry, Mark, that you
have lost your diamonds; not so much because they are gone, for I can
well understand you to be thoroughly glad to be rid of such dangerous
articles, but because they have carried them off in our teeth, after we
have been specially retained to protect you. I certainly thought that
with such a bodyguard you were absolutely safe from any number of
Hindoos.”
“Yes, we made a regular mess of it, Mr. Thorndyke,” Gibbons said. “I
never felt so certain of winning a battle as I did that you would not
be touched as long as we were looking after you. Tring and I, if we had
been asked, would have said that we could each have taken on a dozen
foreigners easily. Mr. Chetwynd is handy with his fists too, though he
hasn't your weight and reach, and your two other friends are both pretty
well accustomed to deal with rough customers. As for Tring and me, it
makes one feel small to know that we have been bested by a handful of
niggers, or Hindoos, or whatever the chaps are, whom a good sized boy of
twelve ought to be able to polish off.”
“Now, Mark, what is to be done next?” Dick Chetwynd asked.
“The next thing will be to get back as soon as we can, Dick. I, for one,
have had enough of Holland to last me for a lifetime.”
“I am afraid, gentlemen,” the Lieutenant said, “you will have to wait
a day or two before you can leave. I have nineteen men in prison, and
there will be a meeting of magistrates this afternoon. Now you have come
back, Mr. Thorndyke, the charge against them won't be as serious as
it would have been before, but they are guilty of a desperate and
premeditated assault upon six passengers on their arrival here; they
have already admitted that they were paid for their work; and as among
them are some of the worst characters in the city, you may be sure that
now we have got them fairly in our hands we shall not let them go. It is
so simple an affair that the investigation ought not to take long, but
we shall want to find out, if we can, who acted as the intermediary
between the Hindoos and the prisoners. I should think that two meetings
ought to be sufficient for the present, but I am afraid that there may
then be a long remand, and that you will either have to remain here or
to come over again.”
“It would be a horrible nuisance,” Dick said; “still it would be better
to come back again than to wait here indefinitely, and anyhow I don't
suppose it would be necessary for all of us to come back again.”
“I should not mind if it could be arranged for me to be here again in a
month's time,” Mark agreed, “for, to tell you the truth, I am going to
be married in less than three weeks, and as I had intended to come to
Brussels, and afterwards to travel for a while, I could make a visit
here without greatly putting myself out.”
“I will try and arrange that, Mr. Thorndyke.”
“I shall be glad,” Mark said, “if you can manage to get the men
sentenced without going into the question of the diamonds at all, and
treat the matter as a mere attempt at robbery. It surely would not be
necessary to bring the question of my being carried away into the matter
at all; I can give evidence that I was knocked down and stunned, and
that I was robbed of some jewels that I had about me, which were the
object of the attack.”
“I think we should have to admit that,” the Lieutenant said; “it must
come out that the attack was an organized one.”
“Well, if it must, it must,” Mark said reluctantly; “but then, you see,
no end of questions would be asked, and the thing might be delayed while
a search is being made for the men who stole the bracelet.”
“Well, we will keep it out of the inquiry if we can,” the Lieutenant
said. “The meeting will be at three o'clock. I will send a man to take
you to the Town Hall.”
At the appointed hour the party proceeded to the court, and the eighteen
prisoners, under a strong guard, having been brought in, six magistrates
took their places on the bench; the rest of the court was crowded, the
fray on the wharf and the number of captures having created quite a
stir in the city. They had arranged that Tring should first give
his evidence, which he did, the Lieutenant of the watch acting as
interpreter, though most of the magistrates understood English. The
appearance of the prisoners created quite a sensation in the court, for
the injuries that they had received were now even more conspicuous than
they had been when they were first captured; some of them had to be led
into court, their eyes being completely closed, others had their heads
bandaged, and all showed signs of tremendous punishment. Tring related
that he, with five others, had come ashore together; one of his
companions had a row on board a ship they had crossed in, with a
Lascar sailor, who was a passenger, and they kept together as they were
crossing the wharf, thinking that possibly the man might attempt to stab
his companion.
“I was walking behind him,” Tring went on, “when the Lascar jumped
suddenly out from among the men standing about, and was about to stab my
companion, when I hit him just in time, and he went down; then there was
a rush, and we all got separated, and did as well as we could until the
watch came up; that is all that I know about it.”
“Is the Lascar among the prisoners?” one of the magistrates asked the
Lieutenant of the watch.
“No, sir, when picked up by one of my men he was found to be dead; the
blow had apparently killed him instantly.”
The other five then gave their evidence; it was similar to that of
Tring, save that being in front of him they knew nothing of the attack
by the Lascar. All they knew about it was that there was a sudden
rush upon them by a number of men armed with bludgeons, that they were
separated, and that each defended himself until the guard came up.
Some of the watch then gave evidence, and told how on arriving at
the spot eleven of the prisoners were found lying senseless; how, on
recovering, they were all taken to the watch house, where several of
them were recognized as notoriously bad characters; they had admitted
that they were paid to make the attack, which was apparently the result
of the private enmity of some person or persons unknown to one or more
of those attacked.
The Lieutenant then related the steps that he had taken to capture
others connected with the attack, and that he found eight men bearing
marks of the fray, and that all these were also notorious characters,
and associates of the prisoners first taken. The first witnesses were
again questioned; five of them said that, so far as they knew, they had
no personal enemies. Mark, who was the last to get into the witness box,
said that he himself had no enemies, but that an uncle of his, who was
in the British Indian service, had a sort of feud with some members of
a sect there on account of some jewels that he had purchased, and which
had, they declared, been stolen from a temple. Two soldiers through
whose hands these things had passed, had been successively killed by
them, and his uncle had to the day of his death believed that their
vengeance would one day fall upon him.
“I can only suppose,” continued Mark, “that I have inherited the enmity
they bore him, as I inherited the jewels, and that the attack was really
designed solely against me, and the consequences might have been
fatal to me had it not been for the strength and courage of my fellow
passengers.”
“Did they come with you for your protection, Mr. Thorndyke?”
“To some extent, yes. The fact is, that I have for some time been
convinced that I was followed about by natives of India, and remembering
what my uncle had said on the subject, I became to some degree
apprehensive, and thought it as well to leave London for a short time.
That this attack was really instigated by the men I have no doubt
whatever, since, as you have heard, it was begun by a Lascar, who tried
to stab one of my companions and who received a knockdown blow that
caused his death from one of the others. It is a well known fact that
these people will cherish for many years a determination to avenge any
injury. However, I hope that after the failure of this attempt upon my
life I shall hear no more of them.”
“Were any knives found on the prisoners?” the magistrates asked the
Lieutenant of the watch.
“No, sir; all carried clubs. And they told me that they had been
especially ordered not to take knives, and had indeed been searched
before they came out.”
“What impression do you gather from that, Mr. Thorndyke?”
“My impression is, sir, that they desired to overpower those with me and
to beat them down, in order to carry out their revenge upon me.”
After some consultation the magistrate who had before spoken said:
“The prisoners will be remanded. It is necessary that we should find out
who was the chief culprit who bribed this gang.”
As soon as the prisoners were taken out of court Mark slipped across to
the magistrates, accompanied by the Lieutenant as interpreter.
“I hope, gentlemen, that our presence here will not be necessary, for it
would be a matter of extreme inconvenience. I may say that my marriage
is fixed for today three weeks, hence you can well imagine that I want
to return as soon as possible. Two of the men are, as you have heard,
Bow Street officers, whose presence could not well be spared.”
The magistrates again consulted together.
“Your evidence has all been taken down by the clerk of the court.
Certainly we should not require your presence at the remand; but whether
we should do so at the trial would, of course, depend upon whether these
men all own their guilt, which, having been taken red handed, it is
likely enough they will do. We will consent, therefore, to your leaving,
if you will give us an undertaking to return for the trial if your
presence is necessary, and that you will bring with you the man who
struck down the Lascar who commenced the fray, and one of the others.”
“That I will do willingly,” Mark replied. “We are much obliged to
you for your consideration. I shall be traveling for a time after my
marriage; but I will as I pass through Belgium after my marriage give
you the route I intend to take and the address at which letters will
find me, and if you send me a sufficiently long notice I will at once
return for the trial.”