THE DUPLICATE CLOAKS.
Leaning back against the corner of the mantel-piece by the side of the
blazing fire in his private room, calmly surveying those ranged before
him, and listening to their tale with an impassive face, was Thomas
Ashley. Sergeant Delves and Mr. Dare were giving him the account of the
changing of the cheque, obtained from White the butcher. Samuel Lynn
stood near the master's desk, his brow knit in perplexity, his
countenance keen and anxious. The description of the cloak, tallying so
exactly with the one worn by William Halliburton, led Mr. Dare to the
conclusion, nay, to the positive conviction that the butcher's visitor
could have been no other than William. The sergeant held the same view;
but the sergeant adopted it with difficulty.
"It's an odd thing for _him_ to turn thief," said he, reflectively. "I'd
have trusted that young fellow, sir, with untold gold," he added, to Mr.
Ashley. "Here's another proof how we may be deceived."
"I told you," said Mr. Dare, turning to Mr. Ashley, "that it could be no
other than Halliburton."
"Thee will permit me to say, friend Dare, that I do not agree with thy
deductions," interposed the Quaker, before Mr. Ashley could answer.
"Why, what would you have?" returned Mr. Dare. "Nothing can be plainer.
Ask Sergeant Delves if he thinks further proof can be needed."
"Many a man has been hanged upon less," was the oracular answer of
Sergeant Delves.
"What part of my deductions do you object to?" inquired Mr. Dare of the
Quaker.
"Thee art assuming--if I understand thee correctly--that there is no
other cloak in the city so similar to William's as to be mistaken for
it."
"Just so."
"Then, friend, I tell thee that there is."
Mr. Dare opened his eyes. "Who wears it?" he asked.
"That is another question," said Samuel Lynn. "I should be glad to find
out myself, for curiosity's sake."
Then Mr. Lynn told the story of his having observed a man, whom he had
taken for William, walking at the back of his house, apparently waiting
for something. "I saw him on two evenings," he observed, "at some
considerable interval of time. The figure bore a perfect resemblance to
William Halliburton; the height, the cloak, the cap--all appeared to be
his. I taxed him with it. He denied it _in toto_, said he had not been
walking there at all, and I believed he was attempting, for the first
time since I have known him, to deceive me. I----"
"Are you sure he was not?" put in Mr. Dare.
"Thee should allow me to finish, friend. Last night I was home somewhat
earlier than usual--thee can recollect why," the Quaker added, looking
at Mr. Ashley. "I was up in my room, and I saw the same figure pacing
about in precisely the same manner. William's denial had staggered me,
otherwise I could have been ready to affirm that it was himself and no
other. The moon was not up; but it was a very light night, and I marked
every point in the cloak--it was as like William's as two peas are like
each other. What he could want, pacing at the back of my house and of
his, puzzled me much. I----"
"What time was this, Mr. Lynn?" interrupted the sergeant.
"Past eight o'clock. Later than the hour at which I had seen him on the
two previous occasions. 'It is William Halliburton, of a surety,' I said
to myself; and I thought I would pounce upon him, and so convict him of
the falsehood he had told. I left my house by the front door, went down
the road, past the houses, and entered the gate admitting into the
field. I walked up quietly, keeping under the hedge as much as possible,
and approached William--as I deemed him to be. He was then standing
still, and gazing at the upper windows of my house. In spite of my
caution, he heard me, and turned round. Whether he knew me or not, I
cannot say; but he clipped the cloak around him with a hasty movement,
and made off right across the field. I would not be balked if I could
help it. I opened friend Jane Halliburton's back gate, and proceeded
through the garden and house to the parlour, which I entered without
ceremony. There sat William at his books."
"Then it was not he, after all!" cried Mr. Dare, interested in the tale.
"Of a surety it was not he. I tell thee, friend, he was seated quietly
at his studies. 'Hast thee lent thy cloak to a friend to-night?' I asked
him. He looked surprised, and said he had not. But, to be convinced, I
requested to see his cloak, and he took me outside the door, and there
was the cloak hanging up in the passage, his cap beside it. That is why
I did not approve of thy deductions, friend Anthony Dare, in assuming
that the cloak, which the man had on who changed the cheque, must be
William Halliburton's," concluded Mr. Lynn.
"You say the man looked like William when you were close to him?"
inquired Mr. Ashley, who thought the whole affair very curious, and now
broke silence for the first time.
"Very much like him," answered Samuel Lynn. "But the resemblance may
have been only in the cloak and cap. The face was not discernible; by
accident or design, it was concealed. I think there need not be better
negative proof that it was not William who changed the cheque."
Mr. Ashley smiled. "Without this evidence of Mr. Lynn's I could have
told you it was waste of time to cast suspicion on William Halliburton
to me," said he, addressing the sergeant and Mr. Dare. "Were you to come
here and accuse myself, it would make just as much impression upon me.
Wait an instant, gentlemen."
He went to the door, opened it, and called William. The latter came in,
erect, courteous, noble--never suspecting the sergeant's business there
could have anything to do with him.
"William," began his master, "who is it that wears a similar cloak to
yours, in the town?"
"I am unable to say, sir," was William's ready reply. "Until last
night," and he turned to Samuel Lynn with a smile, "I should have said
there was not another like it. I suppose now there must be one."
"If there is one, there may be more," remarked Mr. Ashley. "The fact is,
William, the cheque has been traced. It was changed at White's, the
butcher; and the person changing it wore a cloak, it seems, very much
like yours."
"Indeed!" cried William, with animation. "Well, sir, of course there may
be many such cloaks in the town. All I can say is, I have not seen
them."
"There can't be many," spoke up the sergeant, "if it be the
old-fashioned sort of thing described to me."
William looked the sergeant full in the face with his open countenance,
his honest eyes. No guilt there. "Would you like to see my cloak?" he
asked. "It may be a guide, if you think the one worn resembled it."
The sergeant nodded. "I was going to ask you to bring it in, if it was
here."
William brought it in. "It is one of the bygones," said he laughing. "I
have some thoughts of forwarding it to the British Museum, as a specimen
of antiquity. Stay! I will put it on, that you may see its beauties the
better."
He threw the cloak over his shoulders, and exhibited himself off, as he
had done once before in that counting-house for the benefit of Samuel
Lynn. "I think the British Museum will get it," he continued, in the
same joking spirit. "Not until winter's over, though. It is a good
friend on a cold night."
Sergeant Delves' eyes were riveted on the cloak. "Where have I seen that
cloak?" he mused, in a dreamy tone. "Lately, too!"
"You may have seen me in it," said William.
The sergeant shook his head. He lifted one hand to his temples, and
proceeded to rub them gently, as if the process would assist his memory,
never once relaxing his gaze.
"Did White say the changer of the cheque was a tall man?" asked Mr.
Ashley.
"Yes," said Mr. Dare. "Whether he meant as tall as William Halliburton,
I cannot say. There are not--why, I should think there are not a hundred
men in the town who come up to that height," he added, looking at
William.
"Yourself one of them," said William, turning to him with a smile.
Mr. Dare shook his head, a regret for his past youth crossing his heart.
"Ay, once. I am beginning to grow downward now."
Mr. Ashley was buried in reflection. There was a curious sound of
mystery about the tale altogether, to his ears. That there were many
thieves in Helstonleigh, he did not doubt--people who would appropriate
a cheque, or anything else that came in their way; but why the same
person--if it was the same--should pace the cold field at night,
watching Samuel Lynn's house, was inexplicable. "It may not be the
same," he observed aloud. "Shall you watch for the man again?" he asked
of Mr. Lynn.
"I shall not give myself much trouble over it now," was the reply.
"While I was concerned to ascertain William's truthfulness----"
"I scarcely think you need have doubted it, Mr. Lynn," interrupted
William.
"True. I have never doubted thee yet. But it appeared to be thy word
against the sight of my own eyes. The master will understand----"
A most extraordinary interruption came from Sergeant Delves. He threw up
his head with a start, and gave vent to a shrill, prolonged whistle. "It
looks dark!" cried he.
"What didst thee say, friend Delves?"
"I beg pardon, gentlemen," answered the sergeant. "I was not speaking to
any of you; I was following up the bent of mine own thoughts. It
suddenly flashed into my mind who it is that I have seen in one of these
cloaks."
"And who is it?" asked Mr. Dare.
"You must excuse me, sir, if I keep that to myself," was the answer.
"As tall a man as William Halliburton?"
The sergeant ran his eyes up and down William's figure. "A shade taller,
I should say, if anything."
"And it struck me that the man who made off across the field was a shade
taller," observed Samuel Lynn.
"Well, I can't make sense of it," resumed Mr. Dare, breaking a pause.
"Let us allow, if you like, that there are fifty such cloaks in the
town. Unless one, wearing such, had access to Mr. Ashley's
counting-house, to this very room that we are now in, how does the fact
of there being others remove the suspicion from William Halliburton?"
Mr. Dare had not intended wilfully to cause him pain. He had forgotten
for the moment that William was a stranger to the doubt raised touching
himself. Amidst the deep silence that ensued, William looked from one to
the other.
"Who suspects me?" he asked, surprise the only emotion in his tone.
Sergeant Delves tapped him significantly on the shoulder. "Never you
trouble yourself, young sir. If what has come into my mind be right, it
isn't _you_ who are guilty."
When he and Mr. Dare went out, Mr. Ashley followed them to the outer
gate. As they stood there talking, Frank Halliburton passed. "Look
here," thought the sergeant to himself, "there's not much doubt as to
the black sheep--I see that: but it's as well, to be on the sure side.
Young man," cried he aloud to Frank, in the authoritative, patronizing
manner which Sergeant Delves was fond of assuming when he could, "what
time did your brother William get home last Saturday night? I suppose
you know, if you were at home yourself."
Frank looked at him rather haughtily. "_I_ know," he replied. "I have
yet to learn why you need know."
"Tell him, Frank," said Mr. Ashley, with a smile.
"It was a little after ten," said Frank.
"Did he go out again?" asked the sergeant.
"Out again at that time!" cried Frank. "No: he did not go out again. We
sat talking together ever so long, and then went up to bed."
"Ah!" rejoined the sergeant. It was all he answered. And he wished Mr.
Ashley good day, and departed with Mr. Dare.
"I am going to Oxford at Easter, Mr. Ashley," cried Frank with
animation.
"I am pleased to hear it."
"But only as a servitor. I don't mind," he added, throwing back his head
with pardonable pride. "Let me once get a start, and I hope to rise
above some who go there as gentlemen-commoners. I intend to make this my
circuit," he went on, half jokingly, half seriously.
"You are ambitious, Frank. I heartily wish you success. There's nothing
like keeping a good heart."
"Oh yes, success is not doubtful. I'll do battle with all the
obstructions in my course. Good afternoon, sir."
William, curious and anxious, could make nothing of his books that night
at home. At length he threw up, put on the notable cloak, and went down
to the manufactory. He found Mr. Ashley there; and the counting-house
soon received an addition to its company in the person of Sergeant
Delves. He had come in search of William. Not being aware that William
was allowed the privilege of spending his evenings at home, he had
supposed the manufactory was the place to find him in.
"I want you down at White's," said the sergeant. "Put on your cloak,
will you be so good, Mr. Halliburton, and come with me?"
"Do you suspect me?" was William's answer.
"No, I don't," returned the sergeant. "I told you before, to-day, that I
did not. The fact is"--dropping his voice to a mysterious whisper--"I
want to do a little bit of private inquiry on my own account. I have a
clue to the party: and I should like to work it out."
"If you have a sufficient clue, the party had better be arrested at
once," observed Mr. Ashley.
"Ah, but it's not sufficient for that," nodded the sergeant. "No, Mr.
Ashley, sir; my strong advice to you is, keep quiet a bit."
They started for the butcher's, William wearing his cloak and cap, and
Mr. Ashley accompanying them. Mr. Ashley possessed his own curiosity
upon various points; perhaps his own doubts.
"It is strange who this man can be who walks at the back of your house,"
observed Mr. Ashley to William, as they went along. "What can be his
motive for walking there, dressed like you?"
"It is curious, sir."
"I should suppose it can only arise from a desire that he should be
taken for you," continued Mr. Ashley. "But to what end? Why should he
walk there at all?"
"Why, indeed!" responded William.
"What coloured gloves are you wearing?" abruptly interrupted Sergeant
Delves.
William took his hands from beneath his cloak, and held them out. They
were of the darkest possible colour, next to black; the shade called in
the glove trade "corbeau." "These are all I have in use at present," he
said. "They are nearly new."
"Have you worn any light gloves lately? Tan or fawn?"
"I scarcely ever wear tan gloves. I have not put on a pair for months."
They arrived at the butcher's and entered. White was standing at his
block, chopping a bone in two. He lifted his head, and touched his hair
to Mr. Ashley.
"Is this the gentleman who had the money of you for the cheque?" began
Sergeant Delves, without circumlocution.
Mr. White put down his chopper, and took a survey of William. "It's like
the cloak and cap that the other wore," said he.
Sergeants take up words quickly. "That the 'other' wore? Then you do not
think it was this one?"
"No, I don't," decided the butcher. "The one who brought the cheque was
a shorter man."
"Shorter!" repeated Mr. Ashley, remembering it had been said in his
counting-house that the man who appeared to be personating William was
thought to have the advantage the other way. "You mean taller, White."
"No, sir, I mean shorter. I am sure he was shorter. Not much, though."
There was a pause. "You observed that his gloves were tan, I think,"
said the sergeant.
"Something of that sort. Clean light gloves they were, such as gentlemen
wear."
"Finally, then, White, you decide that this was not the gentleman?"
"Not he," said the butcher. "It's not the same voice."
"The voice goes for nothing," said Sergeant Delves. "The other one had
plums in his mouth."
"Well," said the butcher, "I think I should have known Mr. Halliburton,
in spite of any disguise, had he come in."
"Don't make too sure, White," said the sergeant, with one of his wise
nods. "He who came might have turned out to be just as familiar to you
as Mr. Halliburton, if he had let you see his face. The fact is, White,
there's some one going about with a cloak like this, and we want to find
out who it is. Mr. Halliburton would give a pound out of his pocket, I'm
sure, to know."
"I'd give two," said Mr. Ashley, with a smile.
"Sir," asked the butcher of Mr. Ashley, "what about the money? Shall I
lose it?"
"Now, White, just wait a bit," put in the sergeant. "If it was a
gentleman that changed it, perhaps we shall get it out of _him_. Any
way, you keep quiet."
They left the shop--standing a moment together before parting. The
sergeant's road lay one way; Mr. Ashley's and William's another. "This
only makes the matter more obscure," observed Mr. Ashley, alluding to
what had passed.
"Not at all. It makes it all the more clear," was the cool reply of the
sergeant.
"White says the man was shorter than Mr. Halliburton."
"It's just what I expected him to say," nodded the sergeant. "If I am on
the right scent--and I'd lay a thousand pound on it!--the man who
changed the cheque _is_ shorter. I just wanted White's evidence on the
point," he added, looking at William; "and that is why I asked you to
come down, dressed in your cloak. Good night, gentlemen."
He turned up the Shambles. And Mr. Ashley and William walked away side
by side.