'We shall be only four at dinner, Dorothy,' Mr. Hawtrey said, when he
returned. 'I could not get Hampton to come.'
'Engaged, I suppose,' Dorothy said indifferently.
'No, dear, he simply said that as he had had the misfortune to displease
you--I think those were his very words--he thought it would be better to
stay away. I could not say that I did not agree with him and so the
matter dropped. Of course I am sorry, for I have always liked the lad.
Naturally the interest he has shown in us in this trouble and the pains
he has taken about it have quite renewed the old feeling. I have turned
to him for advice and talked matters over with him almost as if he had
been a son, and, of course, I shall miss him a good deal now--but it
cannot be helped.'
'I am sure I don't want him to stay away from the house, father,'
Dorothy said, in an aggrieved tone.
'I don't know whether you want it or not, Dorothy; but naturally that
has been the effect. You do not suppose that a man who has been on so
friendly a footing with us for the last twenty years is going to put up
with being called Captain Hampton, and addressed as if he were a
stranger, and treated with a sort of freezing politeness by a girl whom,
almost from the day when he arrived in England, he has been giving up
his time to assist. I think he is perfectly right to keep away from the
house, and I think any man of spirit would do the same.'
'Did he say that he resented it, father?'
'Well, no, he didn't. He seemed to think that while it was reasonable
that I, your father, should have had doubts, and that your old friend,
Singleton, should have readily accepted the evidence of his senses and
have believed that you had got into some sort of bad scrape, that you
should feel hurt because he did so. Singleton and I both said that it
was preposterous. However, he stuck to his own opinion just as you do to
yours. However, there is an end of the matter. I am heartily sorry. I
don't think one makes so many real friends as he has of late shown
himself to be, that one can afford to throw even one away, especially
just at a time like this. Well, it is of no use talking about it any
more.'
Danvers' report of the consultation between himself and Charles Levine
left matters pretty nearly as they were before. It was greatly desirable
for the purpose of preventing any further personation that the
jeweller's claim should be contested, but upon the other hand it was
equally certain that it would be an extremely unpleasant thing for Mr.
and Miss Hawtrey. The chances of obtaining a verdict were very slight,
as they had merely an hypothesis to oppose to the direct evidence of the
jeweller and his assistants. It was a case that the principals must
decide for themselves. In case they were willing to meet the inevitable
unpleasantness of a trial, it would be incumbent on them to use every
possible effort to obtain some evidence in confirmation of their
hypothesis. Scotland Yard should be communicated with and detectives set
to work; a reward, say of 100_l._, might be offered in the papers for
information that would lead to the arrest of the female who had been
personating Miss Hawtrey and in her name obtaining goods under false
pretences, a description of the woman's appearance being given. Even if
no evidence was forthcoming from the advertisement it would serve as a
preparation for the trial, and the defence to the claim would not come
as a surprise. Moreover, the appearance of the advertisement would deter
the woman from attempting for some time to repeat her operations. Mr.
Levine also recommended that a letter should be sent to all the shops
where they dealt, to warn them that it was possible that a person very
closely resembling Miss Hawtrey might attempt to obtain goods, and that
everything ordered should be sent to the house, and not delivered
personally; and it would be desirable, if possible, that they should be
told that in future Miss Hawtrey, when giving an order, would give her
visiting card, and that of Mr. Hawtrey; and that any person purporting
to be her, and being unable when asked to give her card, should be
detained, and given in charge of the police. This, at least, was the
line which they recommended should be adopted; but, of course, the
matter would be further considered and gone into later on, if Mr.
Hawtrey decided to contest the claim.
'Levine considers it one of the most difficult cases he has ever been
engaged in,' said Danvers. 'He says frankly he does not think you have
the remotest chance of getting a verdict, unless before the trial comes
on you can lay your hand on this woman, and he suggests that you and he
together should see Gilliat--who, of course, has no personal feeling in
the matter, and would naturally be most averse to taking anything like
hostile action against you--and inform him of the exact position of the
case, and your desire that they should not send in their account to you
for another three or four months. This would give at least six months
before the trial would come on, and in that time, if ever, we ought to
be able to lay our hands on this woman, and you would still have the
option of paying, if before the case comes on you can obtain no
evidence. Lastly, he says that, unpleasant as it is to contemplate the
possibility of such a thing, it must not be forgotten that in the event
of the trial coming on, and the verdict being an adverse one, it is
quite upon the cards that if public opinion is strongly aroused on the
subject, the Treasury may feel compelled to order a prosecution of Miss
Hawtrey for perjury--if not for obtaining goods under false
pretences--or possibly for theft.'
'Would it be possible to trace the jewels in any way?' Mr. Hawtrey
asked, after a long pause.
'Quite possible, if they were pawned or sold to a jeweller in this
country, but that is hardly likely to be the case. Very few jewellers
would purchase such goods without making enquiries as to the vendor, and
the same may be said of the class of pawnbrokers who would be in a
position to advance so large a sum. It is much more probable that the
tiaras were broken up an hour after they were stolen and the setting put
in a melting pot and the diamonds taken over to Hamburg, and as they
have not been advertised there would be little or no trouble in
disposing of them to a diamond merchant there. Enquiries can be made in
that direction, only we must obtain from Gilliat the technical
description of the size, number, and weight of the gems.'
'Do I understand that your opinion completely agrees with that of
Charles Levine, Danvers?'
'Precisely; those are the two courses, Mr. Hawtrey; and it is a matter
entirely for you and Miss Hawtrey to decide upon. The easiest, the most
pleasant, and, I may say, the cheapest--for costs will follow the
verdict--would be to pay the money; the other course would involve
immense trouble and annoyance, the payment of detectives, public
scandal, and, I am afraid, an adverse verdict from the public as well as
from the jury.'
'I should say, Hawtrey,' Mr. Singleton put in, 'you had better take a
sort of middle course; tell Gilliat that the thing is a swindle, but
that if you cannot obtain proof that it is so within six months you will
pay him, and in the meantime move heaven and earth to discover these
people. If you succeed, well and good. If you don't, pay the money; it
seems to me that anything would be better than going into court and
being beaten.'
'I think that is very sound advice,' Danvers said, eagerly. 'Gain time,
fight if you can fight with a chance of success, but if not, pay him; in
that way you will save all legal expenses, for you can arrange with
Gilliat to take no steps until you give him a decided answer six months
hence, and you will avoid all the terrible scandal the trial would
entail. The detectives will, of course, cost money, but I do not see how
that is to be helped.'
'I think that would be the best plan,' Mr. Hawtrey said. 'I hope you
agree with me, Dorothy. I own that the prospect of a trial terrifies me,
and I would do anything to avoid it.'
'Just as you like, father; it seems to me that I would rather fight than
be robbed; but as everyone seems to think that we should be certainly
beaten I am willing to agree to anything you wish.'
'Then we will consider that matter settled, Danvers,' Mr. Hawtrey said,
in a tone of relief, 'and the decision has taken a tremendous load off
my mind. Will you kindly see Levine? Tell him I put myself entirely in
his hands as to the employment of detectives. I got samples after I left
you, Singleton, of the silks that hussy took, and I am bound to say that
they are handsome and do credit to her taste. I am to have sketches of
the mantles to-morrow. Will you ask Levine, Danvers, whether he advises
I should still put in the advertisement you spoke of, and write to the
tradesmen? You can mention that we shall go abroad next week, and on our
return go down into Lincolnshire, so that perhaps it would be well not
to stop these people, for of course if they were to repeat the trick
when we were in a position to prove that we were hundreds of miles away
at the time, it would be a pretty conclusive defence if we fought
Gilliat's claim.'
'It would be so conclusive a defence, sir, that Gilliat would never
bring the case into court. The moment he saw that there really was an
impostor going about as Miss Hawtrey, he would see that he had been
victimised, and that his only course was to apologise to Miss Hawtrey
for having doubted her word, and to withdraw his claim. Yes, there is no
doubt it would be the wisest plan to do nothing whatever in the way of
advertising or warning the tradespeople.'
A week later the authorities at Scotland Yard had notified the French,
Belgian, and German police that a man and woman whose description was
accurately given, and a likeness of the latter sent, would be probably
passing themselves off under an assumed name, and that should they show
themselves they were to be arrested as swindlers. Small samples of four
pieces of silk and drawings of the mantles were also enclosed to aid in
the identification of the female prisoner, who would probably have these
clothes with her.
Similar letters were also sent off to the police authorities in all
large towns and watering-places in the United Kingdom.
Mr. Hawtrey called twice in Jermyn Street, but found that Captain
Hampton was away. He wrote him, however, a full account of all that had
been decided upon, and asked him, should he return before they started
for the Continent, to call and see them. He came in on the last evening
before they left town.
'I only returned an hour ago,' he said. 'I was delighted to get your
letter, and to find the decision you had arrived at.' He had shaken
hands cordially with Mr. Hawtrey, formally with Mrs. Daintree and
Dorothy. Mr. Hawtrey glanced at the former and shook his head, to
intimate that that lady had not been taken into the family council.
'Mary knows nothing about it,' he took occasion afterwards to say, in a
low voice; 'the whole thing has been kept a secret from her. She kept
her bed for four days after that Halliburn affair, and had she known
that Dorothy was accused of stealing, she would have had a fit.'
'You mean as to going away before the season is quite over, Captain
Hampton,' Mrs. Daintree said, in reference to his remark on entering.
'Yes, I think it is very wise. Dorothy has been looking far from well
for the last month, and the excitement and late hours have been too much
for her. I shall be very glad myself to be back again in my quiet home.
The season has been a very trying one.'
'I am sorry to hear you have been poorly, Mrs. Daintree. London seems
pleasant enough to me, though there have been two or three very hot
days.'
'What are you going to do, Ned?' Mr. Hawtrey asked. 'I suppose you are
not going to stay after every one else has gone? I have heard nothing
more about that yacht you talked of.'
'I have given up the idea. I daresay I should have enjoyed it very much,
but one wants a pleasant party, and it does not seem to me that I can
get one together, so I have abandoned it and intend taking a run across
the Atlantic for two or three months. I did Switzerland and Italy before
I went away, and should not care about doing Switzerland again at the
time when every hotel is crowded; and as for Italy it would be too hot.
I have always thought that I should like a run through the States, and I
am never likely to have a better opportunity than this.'
'I suppose you will be back by Christmas, Ned? I need not say how glad I
shall be if you come down and spend it with us; it would be like old
times, lad.'
'Thank you, Mr. Hawtrey, I should like it greatly, but I will make no
promises.'
'Well, suppose you come down to my den and smoke a cigar, Ned. There are
several matters I want to chat with you about.'
'Why I want to get off in a hurry,' he went on, when they were seated in
the library, 'I saw Halliburn on the day after the affair was broken
off, and I suggested to him that the matter should not be made public
for a week or two. The House will separate next week, and I thought it
would be pleasanter to both parties if nothing was said about it till
after that, when both will be away, and society scattered, so that all
gossip or annoying questions would be avoided. He agreed with me
thoroughly, as he evidently objected quite as much as I did to there
being any talk on the subject; so I wrote a paragraph with his approval.
It will be sent round to half-a-dozen of these gossipy papers the day
after Parliament goes down. This is it: "We are authorised to state that
the match arranged between the Earl of Halliburn and Miss Hawtrey will
not take place. We understand that the initiative in the matter was
taken by the lady, who, in view of the malicious reports concerning her
that have appeared in some of the papers, has decided to withdraw from
the engagement, much, we believe, to the regret of the noble Earl."'
'That will do excellently,' Captain Hampton agreed. 'I may tell you
frankly, Mr. Hawtrey, that the idea of going to the States only occurred
to me after reading your letter. For the last week I have been working
along the south coast watering-places, giving a day to each. I began at
Hastings and went to Eastbourne, Brighton, Worthing, Southsea, and
Southampton, and took a run to Ryde and Cowes. I went to every hotel of
any size at each of those towns, saw the manager and two or three of the
waiters, and showed them the photograph and the scraps of silk, but none
of them had had any lady at all answering to that description, or
resembling the likeness, staying there. I intended to have made the
entire tour of the seaports, but now that instructions have been sent to
all the local police officers I need spend no more time over it. They
will do it infinitely better than I could, for whereas I could only see
to the hotels, they will naturally keep an eye upon all visitors, and it
is as likely that they may be in lodgings as at an hotel; more likely,
indeed, for at present they are flush of cash, and would not want to
make the acquaintance of people, especially at hotels, where there would
be the risk of running up against somebody who knew Miss Hawtrey. So
with England and the Continent both provided for I am free to try the
States. I should not have said anything to you about it, but I want you
to write to me if the police find any trace of them. I will go to the
Metropolitan Hotel at New York, and when I leave will keep them posted
as to my whereabouts, so that they can forward any letter to me.'
'My dear Ned,' Mr. Hawtrey said, feelingly, 'you are indeed a good
friend. I do not know how to thank you enough, but I really do not like
you to be wasting your holiday in this fashion.'
'Don't worry about that; if it hadn't been for this I should have been
hanging about with no particular object, and should have been heartily
sick of doing nothing long before my year was out. This will give an
interest and an object in travelling about, and it is always a pleasure
to be working for one's dearest friends. There are but few people in
England now for whom I really care. I never got on with my brothers, and
beyond yourself and kind old Mr. Singleton, I have really no friends
except Army men or school chums, like Danvers, and every time I come
home their number will diminish. You must remember I am a police
officer, and I suppose the instinct of thief-catching is strong in me.
Certainty I shall not feel happy until I have got at the root of this
mystery. You must remember the hypothesis as to this woman is my own,
and I feel that my honour is concerned to prove its correctness; but,
mind, Mr. Hawtrey, I particularly request that Dorothy shall know
nothing of the matter.'
'Why not, Ned?'
'I have not been successful so far, and in fact have done more harm than
good, and the betting is very strongly against my succeeding. They may
not have gone to America. I simply choose it because the other ground is
occupied, and also because there is an undoubted tendency among
criminals to make for the States. In the next place, even if they are in
America, it is almost like looking for a needle in a cart-load of hay.
Still, if fortune favours me, I may possibly succeed; but if I do not, I
certainly do not wish to let Dorothy know that I have been trying. I
have wronged her by having doubted her for a moment, and I do not wish
to compel her to feel under an obligation to me merely because I have
united amusement with a little work on her behalf.'
'Well, I think you are wrong, Ned--wrong altogether; but of course you
must do as you like in the matter. Have you sketched out any plan for
yourself?'
'I have not thought it over yet, but it will be similar to that I have
been just working. If they have gone to America, New York is, of course,
their most probable destination. I suppose there are not above five or
six hotels that are usually frequented by people coming from England. I
shall try them first, then go down rather lower in the grade, and if I
do not succeed there I shall try Boston; then I must take the other
ports to which liners run, until I have exhausted them. I have at least
one advantage there. There will be no question as to their going direct
into lodgings. They will be certain to put up at an hotel at first.
There is no saying as to where they will go afterwards. My movements
will depend entirely on whether I can pick up a clue. If I cannot get
one at any of the seaports there is an end of it, for it would be mere
folly to search at random in the interior. Of course, before starting I
shall go to all the steamship offices in London, and find what vessels
sailed between the 17th and 24th of last month. That will give me a
margin of a week. If they did not go within a week after the robbery
they won't have gone at all.'
'Perhaps we had better join the ladies again or they may be suspecting
us of arranging some plan or other.'
'I will just go up and say good-bye and go. I hope I shall find Dorothy
looking better on my return. The troubles of the last eight weeks have
told their tale on her, but I hope that two months' change and then a
time of rest and quiet will soon set her up again.'
'Well, God bless you, Ned. I hope that your search will be successful;
but I shall not build upon it at all, and pray do not worry yourself if
you do not succeed.'
They went upstairs again. Mrs. Daintree had already gone to bed.
Dorothy was sitting with the tea-tray before her when her father and Ned
Hampton entered.
'I was just going to send down to you, father; I thought that you must
have nearly finished your cigars.'
'Thank you, I won't take any tea, Miss Hawtrey,' Captain Hampton said,
as she was about to pour out two cups. 'I only came up to say good-bye
and to wish you a pleasant time abroad. As I only came back half an hour
before I came across to you, I have a pile of notes to open and answer,
and as I shall sail in a day or two, I shall have my hands full.'
Dorothy stood up and shook hands.
'Good-bye, Captain Hampton; thank you for your good wishes; I hope that
you too will enjoy your trip.' It was said in the tone of voice in which
she might have said good-bye to the most ordinary acquaintance.
Captain Hampton dropped her hand abruptly, and shook hands heartily with
Mr. Hawtrey, who said, 'Good-bye, Ned; don't get yourself into any
scrapes with Indians, or grizzly bears, or anything of that sort.'
'I will try not to, sir,' and Captain Hampton turned and left the room.
Mr. Hawtrey turned as the door closed, and was about to say something
sharply, when he saw that there were tears in Dorothy's eyes. He gulped
down his irritation, took his cup of tea off the tray, and stirred it
with unnecessary violence. Then he abruptly asked Dorothy if her packing
was all finished.
'We must breakfast at seven sharp,' he said, 'so as to catch the boat
with a quarter of an hour to spare. The exodus has begun and there is
sure to be a crowd.'
'Ten minutes in the morning will finish everything,' Dorothy said. 'I
will be down at a quarter to seven. Mildred can put the rest of the
things in while we are at breakfast. All the boxes are packed and corded
but one, and can be brought down as soon as I am out of the room. Is
Captain Hampton going to shoot bears and that sort of thing, that you
gave him warning?'
'He does not seem to have any fixed plan, Dorothy, but I fancy from what
he said that he is more likely to wander about and look at the towns,
and such places as Niagara and the other places tourists go to as a
matter of course. He certainly did not say a word about shooting, and my
warning was in no way given seriously. If we were not going away
ourselves I should miss him amazingly, for a better fellow never trod in
shoe leather. Now, it's half-past ten, dear, and the sooner we are both
in bed the better, for we are to be called at six.'
While Ned Hampton had been away Jacob had spent his whole time in
wandering in the suburbs in the vain hope of catching sight of the man
and woman of whom he was in search. Ned had shown him the portrait, and
the boy had examined it closely.
'I shall know her when I see her, Captain; one doesn't see gals like
that every day. I seem to have seen some one like her, but I can't think
where. I am sure she was not so pretty as that, not by a long way; but
there is something in the picture that I seem to know.'
He was in when his master returned from the Hawtreys.
'No luck, Captain,' he said, apologetically, 'and it ain't been from
want of tramping about, for I have walked about every day from eight in
the morning and got home at evening that tired I could hardly get
upstairs to bed.'
'By the way, Jacob, have you ever thought of whom the likeness reminded
you? I told you to try and think who it was.'
'Yes, I know who it was now, but it ain't in our way at all. Four or
five years ago I lived up a court at Chelsea, not far from that big
hospital where they put the old soldiers. Well, there was a gal about
two years older than me lived up in the attic of one of the houses in
the court along with a woman. I don't remember what the old one's name
was now, but she used to drink awful. She was about fifteen--the gal I
mean--and I was about twelve. That gal had something of the look of the
lady in the picture, except that the picture is smiling, and she used in
general to look cross. I don't know what there was in her face that
comes back to me as being like the picture, but there must have been
something, else it would not have made me think of her.'
'Was the woman her mother?'
'I don't know, sir.'
'Well, you go down to that court to-morrow, Jacob, the first thing, and
find out if that woman is there still, and whether the girl is with her;
and if they have moved, try to find out where they have gone to. I don't
suppose there can be the slightest connection between that girl and the
woman that I am in search of, for the woman must have been educated to a
certain extent, or she would have been detected by the jeweller or Mr.
Singleton directly she spoke; still, as there is nothing else for you to
do, it would be just as well for you to make inquiries.
'There is something else I want to speak to you about, Jacob. In a day
or two I shall leave for America, and may be away some months--I only
settled the matter an hour ago--and I don't see what I am to do with
you; I don't know what sort of place you are fit for here, and if I did
know I don't see how I could get it for you.'
'Take me with you, Captain,' Jacob said promptly. 'Couldn't I be of use
to you there, sir, as well as here? I knows as I haven't done no good
yet; but it ain't been for want of trying, I will take my davy on that.'
'I don't say that you would not be of use Jacob, but you would add very
heavily to my expenses; the distances there are very great, and the
extra train fares would come to quite a large sum. You would not cost
much besides; not more perhaps than here.'
'I would not cost so much, Captain,' Jacob said confidently. 'I calls it
just chucking money away as it is now. I would be willing to live on dry
bread if you would take me. Three pennyworth a day would do me fine, and
I could take my old clothes with me and put them on at nights and sleep
anywhere. As to the trains, Captain, I could walk first-rate, and I
expect I could get a lift in a waggon sometimes.'
'Well, I will think it over, Jacob. I don't quite see what use you would
be to me, though there might be occasions when I might want some one to
keep watch. Well, go off to bed now. I shall have thought it over by the
time I see you in the middle of the day.'
While Captain Hampton sat smoking he finally settled the question.
Common-sense, as he told himself, was altogether against taking the boy.
His passage out and back in the steerage would cost eight or ten pounds,
there was no saying how much the railway fares would be if he got on
these people's track and found they had gone inland. It was not likely
that the boy could be of any material use to him.
The more he thought of it the more absurd the idea of taking him
appeared, and yet that was what he decided upon doing. It was a luxury,
but he had laid by money each year to enable him to enjoy his trip home
thoroughly. Circumstances had occurred that had altogether upset the
programme he had formed, and there was no reason why he should not enjoy
the luxury of having Jacob with him.
He had taken a strong liking to the boy. Jacob had attached himself to
him without any other reason than that he liked him, and he was certain
that he would serve him faithfully. He was as sharp as a needle, with
that precocious sharpness which comes of want and necessity. Supposing
these people were found, they would certainly have to be watched until
an extradition warrant could be obtained from England; but, above all,
in such a quest it would be a satisfaction to have some one to talk to,
some one who would be as keen in the search as he was himself.
'I don't suppose it will cost more than fifty pounds,' he said, finally,
'and that bit of extravagance won't hurt me.'
In the morning his first visit was to Danvers' chambers.
'I was wondering where you had hidden yourself, Hampton. I have seen
scarcely anything of you for the last fortnight.'
'I have been trying to get to the bottom of this affair of Hawtrey's on
my own account, and of course have failed. I am going for a run over to
the States. I don't care for the Continent in August and September, the
hotels are so frightfully crowded. It has struck me that it is possible
that these people may have gone to the States, and I will stop a day or
two in New York to see if I can find any trace of their having passed
through there. I found a letter from Hawtrey when I came home last
night, telling me all that you are doing. As you are acting in the
matter with Charles Levine I thought it would be a help to me if you
would get a letter for me from Scotland Yard to the police there, saying
that I was in search of two notorious swindlers, and asking them to give
me any assistance they can.'
'That is a very good idea, Hampton. It is quite on the cards that they
made for the States directly they had realised the money for their
plunder.'
'How long do you think they would have been doing that?'
'Two or three days. It is not likely they would sell the diamonds here.
The man probably started with them for Hamburg the night they were
stolen, and a few hours would be sufficient there.
'The robbery was on the 15th of last month. There is no reason why they
should not have sailed by the 20th from Liverpool; or he may have taken
her with him, Danvers, and they may have gone by one of the German
steamers.'
'That is likely enough,' Danvers agreed, 'if they have gone to the
States; and if there happened to be a steamer anywhere about at that
time, it is the route they would naturally choose. They would, of
course, be pretty sure that it would be some days before the robbery of
the diamonds would be discovered; still longer before it occurred to
anyone that Miss Hawtrey herself had nothing whatever to do with it.
Still, they would not care to delay, and would certainly prefer a route
that would obviate the necessity for their passing through England.
'Well, I will see about this matter at once, I have not been in
communication with Scotland Yard myself; of course, all that comes into
Levine's province. I will go down to him, and ask him to get the letter
at once. When are you leaving?'
'I have nothing to keep me here, and if I find there is a steamer going
on Wednesday I will take a berth in her; I can be ready to leave here
to-morrow night; indeed, I could leave to-night if necessary.'
'Wednesday is the regular mail day; that is, I know letters have to be
posted here on Tuesday afternoon. So you will get one of the fast boats
on Wednesday. You have heard all the fresh developments, I suppose, in
Miss Hawtrey's affair?'
Captain Hampton nodded.
'I tell you it surprised me, and it surprised Levine even more. He
scoffed altogether at the suggestion, of which Mr. Hawtrey told me you
were the author, that it was a case of personation, but these two cases
staggered him. I don't think that the getting money from Singleton would
have done so alone, but the getting the silk dresses seemed to him
conclusive. He quite believed that a girl might be driven to any straits
if threatened by a scoundrel who had a hold on her, but that Miss
Hawtrey should have taken to motiveless petty swindling seemed to him
incredible. I was not as surprised as he was, because, strong as the
case seemed against her, I could not bring myself to believe altogether
that she was guilty. I am heartily glad, at any rate, that we have
persuaded Hawtrey to pay the money if he cannot get any evidence in
support of the impersonation theory.'
'So am I, Danvers. Hawtrey told me that you both said he had no chance
whatever of getting a verdict, and I quite agree with you; but even if
the jury had been persuaded, numbers of the public would still have
believed her guilty, and the story would have told against her all her
life.'
'I am very sorry that I am engaged this evening, Hampton, or else we
might have dined together. It is one I cannot very well get out of. How
long do you mean to be away?'
'It is quite uncertain. If I can get any trace of these people I mean to
follow it up if it takes months to do it.'
The other nodded.
'I suppose Hawtrey told you that that engagement was broken off?' he
said carelessly.
'Yes,' Hampton said shortly, 'Hawtrey told me. I was very glad to hear
it, for this sort of thing might have been started on an even bigger
scale if she had married him, and might have ruined her life altogether.
It is bad enough as it is.'
'No means of writing to you, I suppose, while you are away?'
'I shall be glad if you will write to me to the Metropolitan Hotel, New
York, if anything should be heard of these people here or on the
Continent, and I shall telegraph to those hotel people two or three
times a week saying where I am, so that they can forward anything on to
me; but I don't think that letters will be likely to overtake me, as I
shall be moving about. I suppose you have arranged to telegraph at once
to him if you get any news from the foreign police?'
'Yes; he is going to send me a line three or four times a week with his
address for the next day or two.'
'Then in that case it would be of no use your writing to me, as he will
know directly you do if anything turns up. Well, good-bye, old fellow.'
'Good-bye. I suppose that you will be back by the end of the year? At
any rate, I hope so. I am off to-morrow myself; I am going to Vienna. I
have a case coming on next sessions and want to see some people there,
so I can combine business with pleasure. I think it possible that I may
go on from there to Constantinople, and then go down to Greece, and home
by water. I should have started a week ago if it had not been for this
business of Hawtrey's, which seemed at one time to look so serious that
I really did not like to go away until something was settled.'
Captain Hampton's arrangements occupied him little more than
half-an-hour. He bought a case of cartridges for his revolver, took a
passage for himself, and one in the steerage for Jacob. He hesitated as
to whether to get the boy some more clothes, but decided to put that off
till he got out, as there might be some slight difference in make that
would attract attention; the only thing he bought for him was a small
portmanteau. After taking his passage, therefore, he went home and read
the paper till Jacob came in.
'Well, Jacob, to begin with, what is your news?'
'The woman died two years ago, sir; drank herself to death, the
neighbours say. The gal had left her two years before. No one knows
where she went to, no one saw her go. The woman let out some time
afterwards as she had gone: "A friend had took her," she said; but no
one heard her say anything more. She wasn't a great one for talking. The
woman wasn't buried by the parish; an undertaker came and said he had
been sent to do the job, and she was buried decent. There were a hearse
and a carriage, and some of the people in the court went to the funeral,
'cause she wasn't a bad sort when she was sober. And please, Captain, am
I going with you?'
'Yes, I have made up my mind to take you.'
The boy threw up the cap that he held in his hand to the ceiling and
caught it again. 'Thank you, sir,' he said; 'I laid awake all night
thinking on it. I will do all that you tell me, sir, and if I don't act
right, just you turn me adrift out there--there ain't nothing as would
be too bad for me.'