AN INTERESTING DOCUMENT
Marton did not wish the identity of Pratt to be concealed. On the
contrary, he gave it as wide a publicity as possible, hoping that it
might lead to the man's capture. Everyone from Portfront to Colester
knew the would-be country gentleman, so it was not unlikely that he
might be caught. Considering that only a night had elapsed, it was
impossible that he could have got far away, especially in a fog. And if
Pratt escaped there was always the off-chance that Adam might be laid by
the heels.
An examination next morning showed Marton that the two bicycles were
missing, so he judged that both men had gone off together. It was
improbable in Marton's opinion that they had gone to Portfront, as they
could not possibly leave before the steamer at seven o'clock, and the
police could be communicated with by telegraph before they could get
clear of the place. At half-past six Marton routed a telegraph operator
out of his bed, and set him to work. He wired to the inspector at
Portfront to arrest Pratt and his man forthwith, or, at all events, to
detain them until the London police could be communicated with and a
warrant for Pratt's manifold iniquities procured.
But, to Marton's surprise, no answer was returned from Inspector German.
Yet the inspector knew Pratt well, and, if the man set foot in
Portfront, could easily seize him. Later on, somewhere about nine
o'clock, the reason that no answer had arrived became apparent. A
messenger came from Portfront to say that the telegraph wire between
that place and Portfront had been cut midway. There was only one line,
so all communication had been broken off. The steamer had started, and,
without doubt, the two men were on board. At once Marton started off to
Portfront on the curate's bicycle. On his arrival he went to see German.
The inspector was much astonished when he heard the story. He had not
received the wire, and therefore had done nothing. In Marton's company
he hurried to the office of the steamer.
"You see the kind of man we have to deal with, German," said Marton,
much vexed. "It was a clever dodge to cut the wire, and yet he gave
himself away. I did not think he would go to Portfront, but the cutting
of the wire proves he did. We'll wire to Worthing, and stop him there."
An inquiry at the steamer office resulted in nothing. It seemed that Mr
Pratt had a season ticket, and therefore had not purchased one. Nor had
Adam, so it might be that he was still in the town. The loafers on the
pier said they had not seen Pratt go aboard.
"Humph!" said Marton, "he sneaked on in some disguise."
"Is he clever at disguising himself?" asked German.
"I should think so. His own mother would not know him. Still, he had no
time to make-up before he left Colester, so he may not be so carefully
disguised. I daresay we can catch him at Worthing."
A wire was sent to Worthing forthwith, and another to Scotland Yard,
requesting that someone might be sent down to take charge of Pratt's
house, and to identify the goods he had in it. There was a list of the
houses Pratt had broken into, and a list of the stolen goods also, so it
would be easy to have this brought down and compared with the contents
of The Nun's House. Having thus done all that he could under the
circumstances, Marton returned to Colester, where he found the curate
and Leo waiting for him. The latter had now taken up his quarters at the
inn. But he kept within doors, as now that the identity of Pratt was
known, Leo was credited with having been his confederate.
There was tremendous excitement in Colester over the discovery that the
village had entertained unawares a well-known London thief. Many of the
villagers flattered themselves on the stern and non-committal attitude
they had adopted towards the too fascinating stranger. Mr Pratt had
never been very popular, but now he was spoken ill of on every hand. The
whole village would have been delighted to have seen him in the power of
the law.
But Pratt was too clever for them all. The wire to Worthing produced no
result. Neither Pratt nor Adam were on board. It then appeared that the
steamer had put in at Bognor. Marton had omitted to advise the police
there of the fugitives, so it was presumed that they had got off with
the rest of the passengers. The captain did not know Adam by sight, and
Pratt had evidently disguised himself well. At all events, in the crowd
the two had passed unnoticed. Although the London stations were watched,
no sight could be caught of them.
"A clever man Pratt!" said Marton, when informed of his ill success. "I
am perfectly certain of the way in which he went about the matter. He
and his servant got off at Bognor, and alighted at some station just
outside the metropolis. They got to their own haunts by some back way."
"Do you know of their haunts?" asked Leo, who was keenly interested in
the matter, and could not help feeling relieved that Pratt had escaped.
"Oh! they change them every now and then. Besides, Adam will keep out of
sight, and Pratt will so disguise himself that there will be no
recognising him. He's got clean away this time. And I believe, Mr
Haverleigh," added Marton, with a laugh, "that you are rather pleased!"
"Well," said Leo, with some hesitation, "in spite of all you say, I
can't bring myself to believe that Pratt is a bad sort of chap. He was
very kind to me."
"He is kind to most people. He poses as a kind of modern Robin Hood, who
robs the rich to give to the poor. I have known him to do many kind
actions. But he is a scamp for all that, and if I could lay my hands on
him I'd get him!"
Mrs Gabriel was much annoyed to find that Pratt was so notorious a
character. She determined to clear herself of complicity in his sordid
crimes, although no one ever suspected that she had any knowledge of the
man's true character. She sent for Marton, and had a long talk with him
about Pratt; incidentally a reference was made to Leo.
"I have asked you to see me, Mr Marton," she said, "because it was I who
introduced Mr Pratt to Colester. I have known him ten years, and he
always appeared to me to be a most respectable American."
"He is not an American at all," said Marton. "But he could assume any
nationality that suited him for the moment. He is a brilliantly-clever
man, Mrs Gabriel, and I do not wonder he took you in."
"He got no money out of me, at all events," said the lady, grimly.
"Ah! Then you escaped easily. The wonder is he did not try and marry
you! A rich widow is exactly the kind of victim he would like."
"I am not the sort of woman to be anyone's victim, Mr Marton."
Marton, looking at her stern, strong face, quite agreed, but he was too
polite to give vent to his feelings. He merely inquired how Mrs Gabriel
had become acquainted with this Prince of Swindlers. She had no
hesitation in giving him full details.
"I met him at a Swiss hotel many years ago," she said. "He was then
called Pratt, and he posed as a rich American. I met with an accident
while out walking on the hill above Montreux, and lay out till
nightfall. Mr Pratt rescued me from this very unpleasant position, and
took me back to the hotel. A friendship sprang up between us, and when
he returned to England he called on me. As he was always the same for
ten years, and I saw much of him, I never suspected that he was other
than he represented himself to be. Besides, Mr Marton, you must admit he
is a most fascinating man."
"Much too fascinating, Mrs Gabriel, as many have found to their cost."
Mrs Gabriel reflected a moment. "Do you think he will be put in prison?"
"Certainly, if we catch him," replied Marton, quietly; "he is a man
dangerous to society. All his life he has been a rogue and a criminal.
All his money comes to him in the wrong way. That house below--I believe
you let it to him, Mrs Gabriel--is filled with the proceeds of his
robberies. He bought the furniture, but the objects of art--even the
pictures--have all been stolen. In a few days I shall have some people
down from Scotland Yard to identify the things and restore them to their
owners. But as to Mr Pratt, I fear he has escaped out of the clutches of
the law--as usual."
"I cannot say I regret it," said Mrs Gabriel, boldly. "Bad as he is,
there are worse people in the world, Mr Marton. But tell me, sir. You
are investigating this robbery. My adopted son, Mr Haverleigh is
suspected."
"He is perfectly innocent, Mrs Gabriel. The money he was said to have
obtained from the sale of the cup was given to him by Sir Frank Hale."
"Sir Frank denies it."
"So Mr Haverleigh says. But I'll see Sir Frank myself, and see what I
can make of him. I would rather believe Mr Haverleigh than anyone else.
He has an absolutely open nature."
"He is a fool, if that is what you mean."
"Pardon me, I do not think so! A man can be straightforward and
honourable, as Mr Haverleigh is, without being a fool. As yet I have not
investigated this case, as my attention has been taken up with Pratt.
But in a day or so I hope to go to work and then I am prepared to say
that the crime will not be brought home to your nephew."
"Have you any suspicions?"
"Not yet. I have not searched out the evidence sufficiently."
"Mrs Jeal saw my nephew pawn the cup."
"Ah! That is a mystery which I must fathom, Mrs Gabriel. A person
resembling Mr Haverleigh pawned the cup, but I am sure it was not your
nephew. There is a conspiracy against him, on whose part I am not
prepared to say yet. But I shall find it out, clear his character, and
punish those who have been concerned in it. And now, Mrs Gabriel, I must
bid you good-day, as my time is fully occupied. Let me, however, inform
you that there is no need to excuse your association with Mr Pratt. I
quite understand how he wriggled himself into your acquaintance, and
you are in no way to blame. Once more, good-day!"
Marton bowed himself out. But he had seen enough of Mrs Gabriel to note
the strong hatred she bore towards Leo, and he wondered what could be
the reason. Also, he saw that for a moment she had flinched at the
mention of conspiracy, which set him on the alert as to whether her
detestation of her nephew had carried her so far as to plot against his
good name.
"If there is anything the matter, Hale is the man to know," murmured the
detective; "he lent the money, and now declines to acknowledge the loan.
I believe there is something bad at the back of all this. Poor
Haverleigh seems to be the most harmless of men, yet he is being ruined
in some underhand way. Well, I'll settle Pratt's matter, and then clear
his name."
But before Marton could do this, Providence took the task out of his
hand. For the next ten days he was busy consulting with those sent down
from Scotland Yard about the numerous stolen articles found in The Nun's
House. The cabinet of antique coins was restored to a famous collector,
who had lost them five years before. Many pictures were replaced in the
galleries of country houses, and, in one way and another, by the time
The Nun's House was denuded of what belonged to other people, there
remained very little but the furniture. And even some choice articles of
furniture were found to be the property of other people. It was really
wonderful the amount of stolen goods that Pratt had collected. He must
have thieved for years to have got together such a collection.
"But he will start no more burrows," said Marton, when all was at an
end. "He never expected that I should find him here, and therefore
collected all his treasures. His life is not long enough to enable him
to bring together such a collection of things again. Besides, he has not
the same wide field for his knaveries. The police are one too many for
him now."
Marton said this to the vicar, who was deeply shocked to hear of the
wickedness of the man from whom he had accepted the cup. "Do you think
that sacred vessel was stolen also, Mr Marton?" asked the good man.
"I am perfectly sure of it," replied the detective, promptly; "but we
have not got the cup down on our list, and no one has come forward to
claim it."
"It has not been advertised, Mr Marton."
"Pardon me, sir, it has been advertised, and by someone in this place. I
saw this notice in the _Daily Telegraph_, also in the _Times_. Can you
tell me who 'S.T.' is, Mr Tempest?"
The vicar took the newspaper handed to him and looked at it in a
bewildered manner. He read the notice carefully, but it never struck him
that the initials were those of his own daughter. "I really do not know
who can have inserted this, Mr Marton," he said. "It seems to be
carefully worded, too, and a reward of fifty pounds has been offered.
Dear me!"
"I have a rival who is investigating the case," said Marton, with a
smile. "Is the description accurate, vicar?"
"Perfectly; even the inscription. If you will permit me to take this
away, Mr Marton, I will see if I can discover who has put it in. I am
annoyed that the thing should have been taken out of your hands. But, Mr
Marton, before I leave you, let me state to you my conviction that my
young friend Leo Haverleigh did not steal the cup."
"Ah, indeed, Mr Tempest," said Marton, eyeing the old man keenly. "And
what has led you to such a happy conclusion?"
"I have no grounds for it save my inward conviction."
"There is the story of Mrs Jeal, you know."
Mr Tempest looked troubled. "Most remarkable story," he said. "But we
have heard of many cases of accidental resemblances, Mr Marton. I fear I
have been unjust to Leo, and I wish to withdraw any charge I may have
made against him. I heard his defence, and saw his face while he was
making it. Unless the face is not the index of the mind, I cannot bring
myself to believe that he lied. No, Mr Marton, I cannot give you my
reasons, but I am convinced that I misjudged Leo."
"Were you prejudiced against him by Mrs Gabriel?" asked Marton, for Leo
had told him his suspicions on this point.
Mr Tempest hesitated. "I admit that I was," he said at length. "She said
something to me which I am not at liberty to repeat."
"Does it make Mr Haverleigh out a villain?"
"By no means," said the vicar, hastily. "What she told me is sad, but
not wicked. More his misfortune than his fault. I can say no more. I can
keep this paper, Mr Marton? Thank you, sir. Good-day, good-day!" and the
vicar walked away, leaving Marton pondering.
It was three days after this, and when Marton was about to begin his
investigation of the case, that he received a letter from London. He was
more surprised than he chose to say when he found that it came from Mr
Pratt. That gentleman gave no address--he had posted the letter at the
General Post-office, so that even the district where he was hidden
should not be traced. The letter--as Marton said afterwards--was one of
consummate impudence, and it took him all his time to read it with
patience. As a human document it possessed a certain value. The letter
ran as follows, and Marton swore as he read:--
"DEAR MARTON,--So you have let me slip through your fingers again.
Is it not about time that you stopped setting your wits against
mine? Several times you have tried; but always you have been
beaten. Really, you must take lessons in the art of
thief-catching, if you want to deserve the reputation you possess.
"I am bound to say that but for the fog I should have been caught.
But, thanks to its friendly shelter, I ran back to my house, while
you were blundering about like a lost sheep, and warned Adam. I
knew you would have to get Raston to show you the way, and would
be some time. Still, I knew your infernal pertinacity, and made
myself as scarce as possible in a very short space of time. I
should like to have seen your face when you came to my house and
found your prey had escaped.
"I packed up my jewels, which I always keep prepared for such an
emergency as this, and, dressing myself warmly, I mounted my
bicycle. Adam, who had likewise made his preparations, mounted
another, and we both went down the main road. In spite of the mist
there was no difficulty. The highway runs in a straight line to
Portfront, and there was no vehicle abroad to make our travelling
dangerous. We did not hurry, but took our time, as I did not wish
to get to Portfront before the steamer went. As a matter of fact
we did, but hung about the outskirts of the town until it was time
to be aboard. Of course I do not need to tell you how I stopped
you from communicating with the Portfront police. I suggested the
idea, and Adam climbed the pole to cut the telegraph wire.
"We had a very pleasant trip as far as Bognor, where we got on the
train, and stopped at some station, the name of which I need not
tell you. We are now in London in very comfortable circumstances.
If you are clever enough to find me--which I don't think you
are--I promise to give myself up as soon as you appear. But there
is no chance of my seeing you. Better remain in Colester, my dear
Marton, and turn farmer. It is all you are fit for. Upon my honour
it is.
"One thing I should like to know. How the devil did you manage to
find out my retreat? I never thought you had it in you. I went to
see Raston on some business likely to enhance my popularity in the
parish, and I dropped across you! For the first time in my life I
was taken aback. Was it design or accident that I found you there?
I do not wish to compliment you undeservedly.
"Well, you have driven me away, and I must find a new place in
which to pass my old age. It is too bad of you, Marton! On my
soul, too bad! I was getting so popular in Colester. Now, I
suppose, everyone of the honest men are swearing at me. Yet I
never robbed them.
"One other thing. If you came down to investigate that robbery of
the cup I presented to the church, you can spare yourself the
trouble. I stole it myself. It went to my heart to lose so
valuable an object, and I was sorry when I had given it. I could
not ask for it back, so I resolved to steal it. I went to the
church, and, as I am a small man, I climbed in through the lepers'
window. I got the cup, climbed out again, and went back to my
house. Then I was afraid lest the cup would be seen by chance, and
all my popularity would go. I therefore resolved to pawn it. That
is a way I have kept safe many a piece of jewellery. I could not
go myself, but I sent Adam. He is rather like Leo Haverleigh, and
so that fool of a Mrs Jeal made the mistake. You need not look for
the cup in Battersea now, as I have redeemed it. I took the ticket
from Adam, and went myself. It is now in my possession, again,
and I do not intend to part with it any more. You know how fond I
am of beautiful things, dear Marton.
"Well, I daresay you guessed that I stole the cup. Here is my
confession, and you can tell all those fools at Colester,
including the vicar, that Leo Haverleigh is perfectly innocent. He
has not enough brains to steal anything. I only took back my own,
and I am proud of it, as I have bamboozled the lot of you--clever
Mr Marton included!
"Leo got the money with which he paid his debts from Sir Frank
Hale. You can ask him--Hale, I mean. If he denies it, I leave him
to you, as you are clever enough to get the truth out of him. He
wants to marry Sybil Tempest, and desires Leo to marry his sister
Edith. All this was a plot to get Leo into his power, and force
him to do what was wanted. I hope you will punish the young man
Hale. He is a cripple, and has all the spite of one. I should have
punished him myself, but you have deprived me of that pleasure. I
therefore call upon you to do your best.
"And now, my dear Marton, good-bye. Give my love to all the
mourning population of Colester, and especially to Mrs Gabriel, my
dear and life-long friend. I am afraid she will not get her rent.
Also I had the house re-decorated at her expense. The bills will
be sent in to her. Let her pay them with my blessing. I will write
to Leo myself, and give him my blessing. I have much to say to him
that will be of no interest to you. He is a good fellow, and I
wish to see him married to Sybil. He will be some day. I can
manage her fool of a father even at a distance.
"Now, I hope you will look after yourself, for my sake, Marton. So
long as the Scotland Yard idiots keep you on my track, I am safe.
If you died, they might perhaps pick a clever man, dangerous to
me, my friend. So, with all kind regards and best wishes until we
meet.--Believe me, my dear failure, yours never--in the flesh,
"RICHARD PRATT."