BLACK BILL.
On the day after his meeting with Lord Chetwynde Obed had intended to
start for Naples. Lord Chetwynde had not chosen to tell Obed his real
name; but this maintenance of his incognito was not at all owing to
any love of mystery, or any desire to keep a secret. He chose to be
"Windham" because Obed thought him so, and he had no reason for being
otherwise with him. He thought, also, that to tell his real name
might involve a troublesome explanation, which was not desirable,
especially since there was no need for it. Had that explanation been
made, had the true name been made known at this interview, a flood of
light would have poured down upon this dark matter, and Obed would
have had at last the key to every thing. But this revelation was not
made, and Windham took his departure from his friend.
On the following morning, while Obed was dressing, a note was brought
to his room. It was from the police, and requested a visit from him,
as matters of importance had been found out with reference to the
case which he had intrusted to them. At this unexpected message
Obed's start for Naples was postponed, and he hurried off as rapidly
as possible to the office.
On arriving there he soon learned the cause of the note. An event had
occurred which was in the highest degree unexpected, and had not
arisen out of the ordinary inquiries of the detectives at all. It
seems that on the evening of the previous day a man had come
voluntarily to lodge information against this same Gualtier for the
purpose of having a search made after him. He was one of the worst
characters in London, well known to the police, and recognized by
them, and by his own ruffian companions, under the name of "Black
Bill." In order that Obed might himself hear what he had to say, they
had detained the informer, and sent for him.
Obed was soon brought face to face with this new actor in the great
tragedy of Zillah's life. He was a short, stout, thick-set man, with
bull neck, broad shoulders, deep chest, low brow, flat nose, square
chin, and small black eyes, in which there lay a mingled expression
of ferocity and cunning. His very swarthy complexion, heavy black
beard, and thick, matted, coal-black hair, together with his black
eyes, were sufficiently marked to make him worthy of the name of
"Black Bill." Altogether, he looked like a perfect type of perfect
ruffianism; and Obed involuntarily felt a cold shudder pass over him
as he thought of Zillah falling into the hands of any set of villains
of which this man was one.
On entering the room Black Bill was informed that Obed was largely
interested in the affair which he had made known, and was bidden to
tell his story once more. Thereupon Black Bill took a long and very
comprehensive stare at Obed from head to foot, after which he went on
to narrate his story.
He had been engaged in the month of June, he said, by a man who gave
his name as Richards. He understood that he was to take part in an
enterprise which was illegal, but attended with no risk whatever. It
was simply to assist in sinking a vessel at sea. Black Bill remarked,
with much naïveté, that he always was scrupulous in obeying the laws;
but just at that time he was out of tin, and yielded to the
temptation. He thought it was a case where the vessel was to be sunk
for the sake of the insurance. Such things were very common, and
friends of his had assisted before in similar enterprises. The price
offered for his services was not large--only fifty pounds--and this
also made him think it was only some common case.
He found that three other men had also been engaged. They were
ordered to go to Marseilles, and wait till they were wanted. Money
was given them for the journey, and a certain house was mentioned as
the place where they should stay.
They did not have long to wait. In a short time the man who had
employed them called on them, and took them down to the harbor, where
they found a very handsome yacht. In about an hour afterward he
returned, accompanied this time by a young and beautiful lady. Black
Bill and all the men were very much struck by her appearance. They
saw very well that she belonged to the upper classes. They saw also
that their employer treated her with the deepest respect, and seemed
almost like her servant. They heard her once call him "_Mr.
Gualtier_," and knew by this that the name "Richards" was an assumed
one. They all wondered greatly at her appearance, and could not
understand what was to be her part in the adventure. Judging from
what they heard of the few words she addressed to this Gualtier, they
saw that she was expecting to sail to Naples, and was very eager to
arrive there.
At last the second night came. Gualtier summoned Black Bill at
midnight, and they both went into the hold, where they bored holes.
The other men had meanwhile got the boat in readiness, and had put
some provisions and water in her. At last the holes were bored, and
the vessel began to fill rapidly. Black Bill was ordered into the
boat, Gualtier saying that he was going to fetch the young lady. The
men all thought then that she had been brought on board merely to be
forced into taking part in the sinking of the vessel. None of them
understood the idea of the thing at all.
They waited for a time, according to Black Bill. The night was
intensely dark, and they could hear nothing, when suddenly Gualtier
came to the boat and got in.
"Where's the girl?" said Black Bill.
"She won't come," said Gualtier, who at the same time unloosed the
boat. "She won't come," he repeated. "Give way, lads."
The "lads" refused, and a great outcry arose. They swore that they
would not leave the vessel without the girl, and that if he did not
go back instantly and get her, they would pitch him overboard and
save her themselves. Black Bill told him they thought it was only an
insurance business, and nothing like this.
Gualtier remained quite calm during this outcry. As soon as he could
make himself heard he told them, in a cool voice, that he was armed
with a revolver, and would shoot them all down if they did not obey
him. He had hired them for this, he said, and they were in for it. If
they obeyed him, he would pay them when they got ashore; if not, he
would blow their brains out. Black Bill said that at this threat he
drew his own pistol and snapped it at Gualtier. It would not go off.
Gualtier then laughed, and said that pistols which had a needle run
down the nipple did not generally explode--by which Black Bill saw
that his pistol had been tampered with.
There was a long altercation, but the end of it was that Gualtier
gave them a certain time to decide, after which he swore that he
would shoot them down. He was armed, he was determined; they were
unarmed, and at his mercy; and the end of it was, they yielded to him
and rowed away. One thing which materially influenced them was, that
they had drifted away from the schooner, and she had been lost in the
deep darkness of the night. Besides, before their altercation was
over, they all felt sure that the vessel had sunk. So they rowed on
sullenly all that night and all the next day, with only short
intervals of rest, guarded all the time by Gualtier, who, pistol in
hand, kept them to their work.
They reached the coast at a point not far from Leghorn. It was a wild
spot, with wooded shores. Here Gualtier stepped out, paid them, and
ordered them to go to Leghorn. As for himself, he swore they should
never see him again. They took the money, and rowed off for a little
distance along the shore, when Black Bill made them put him ashore.
They did so, and rowed on. He plunged into the woods, and walked back
till he got on Gualtier's trail, which he followed up. Black Bill
here remarked, with a mixture of triumph and mock contrition, that an
accident in his early life had sent him to Australia, in which
country he had learned how to notice the track of animals or of man
in any place, however wild. Here Gualtier had been careless, and his
track was plain. Black Bill thus followed him from place to place,
and after Gualtier reached the nearest railway station was easily
able to keep him in sight.
In this way he had kept him in sight through North Italy, over the
Alps, through Germany, and, finally, to London, where he followed him
to the door of his lodgings. Here he had made inquiries, and had
learned that Gualtier was living there under the name of Mr. Brown;
that he had only been there a few weeks, but seemed inclined to stay
permanently, as he had brought there his clothes, some furniture, and
all his papers, together with pictures and other valuables. Black
Bill then devoted himself to the task of watching him, which he kept
up for some time, till one day Gualtier left by rail for the west,
and never returned. Black Bill had watched ever since, but had seen
nothing of him. He thought he must have gone to America.
Here Black Bill paused for a while, and Obed asked him one or two
questions.
"What is the reason," he asked, "that you did not give information to
the police at first, instead of waiting till now?"
"A question like that there," said Black Bill, "is easy enough to
answer. You see I wanted for to play my hown little game. I wanted
fur to find out who the gal was. If so be as I'd found out that, I'd
have had somethin' to work on. That's fust an' foremost. An' next,
you understand, I was anxious to git a hold of him, so as to be able
to pay off that oncommon black score as I had agin him. Arter
humbuggin' me, hocusin' my pistol, an' threat'nin' murder to me, an'
makin' me work wuss than a galley-slave in that thar boat, I felt
petiklar anxious to pay him off in the same coin. That's the reason
why I sot up a watch on him on my own account, instead of telling the
beaks."
"Do you know," asked Obed again, "what has become of the others that
were with you in the boat?"
"Never have laid eyes on 'em since that blessed arternoon when I
stepped ashore to follow Gualtier. P'r'aps they've been
nabbed--p'r'aps they're sarvin' their time out in the
galleys--p'r'aps they've jined the _I_talian army--p'r'aps they've
got back here again. Wot's become of them his Honor here knows
better'n me."
After this Black Bill went on, and told all the rest that he had to
say. He declared that he had watched Gualtier's lodgings for more
than three months, expecting that he would return. At last he
disguised himself and went there to make inquiries. The keeper of the
house told him that nothing had been heard from "Mr. Brown" since he
left, and he had packed away all his things in hope of his return.
But a Liverpool paper had recently been sent to him with a marked
paragraph, giving an account of the recovery of the body of a man who
had been drowned, and who in all respects seemed to resemble his late
lodger. Why it had been sent to him he did not know; but he thought
that perhaps some paper had been found in the pockets of the
deceased, and the authorities had sent this journal to the address,
thinking that the notice might thus reach his friends.
After this Black Bill began to lose hope of success. He did not
believe that Gualtier had perished, but that it was a common trick to
give rise to a belief in the mind of his lodging-house keeper that he
had met with his death. In this belief he waited for a short time to
see if any fresh intelligence turned up; but at length, as Gualtier
made no sign, and Black Bill's own resources were exhausted, he had
concluded that it would be best to make known the whole circumstance
to the police.
Such was the substance of his narrative. It was interrupted by
frequent questions; but Black Bill told a coherent tale, and did not
contradict himself. There was not the slightest doubt in the minds of
his hearers that he was one of the greatest scoundrels that ever
lived, but at the same time there was not the slightest doubt that on
this occasion he had not taken part willingly against the life of the
young girl. He and his associates, it was felt, had been tricked and
overreached by the superior cunning of Gualtier. They saw also, by
Black Bill's account, that this Gualtier was bold and courageous to a
high degree, with a cool calculation and a daring that were not
common among men. He had drawn these men into the commission of what
they expected would be some slight offense, and then forced them to
be his unwilling allies in a foul murder. He had paid them a small
price for the commission of a great crime. He had bullied them,
threatened them, and made them his slaves by his own clever
management and the force of his own nature, and that, too, although
these very men were, all of them, blood-stained ruffians, the most
reckless among the dregs of society. From Black Bill's story Obed
gained a new view of Gualtier.
After Black Bill had been dismissed, the lodging-house keeper, who
had been sent for, made his appearance. His account was quite in
accordance with what had been said. This man, whom he called _Brown_,
had taken lodgings with him in May last, and had staid a few weeks.
He then had been absent for a fortnight or so. On his return he
passed a few days in the house, and then left, since which time he
had not been heard of. The Liverpool paper which had been sent him
gave the only hint at the possible cause of his absence. In reply to
an inquiry from Obed, the landlord stated that Mr. Brown's effects
seemed to be very valuable. There was a fine piano, a dozen handsome
oil-paintings, a private desk, an iron box, a jewel box, and a trunk,
which, from its weight, was filled with something perhaps of value.
On the whole, he could not think that such things would be left by
any one without some effort to regain possession of them. If they
were sold at a sacrifice, they would bring a very large sum.
The lodging-house keeper was then allowed to take his departure,
after which Obed and the magistrate discussed for some time the new
appearance which had been given to this affair. Their conclusions
were similar, in most respects.
It seemed to them, first, that this Gualtier, whose names were so
numerous, had planned his crime with a far-reaching ingenuity not
often to be met with, and that after the accomplishment of his crime
he was still as ingenious in his efforts after perfect concealment.
He had baffled the police of France, of Italy, and of England thus
far. He had also baffled completely that one enemy who had so long a
time followed on his track. His last act in leaving his lodgings was
well done--though putting the notice in the Liverpool paper, and
sending it to the landlord, seemed more clumsy than his usual
proceedings. It was readily concluded that the notice in that paper
was only a ruse, in order to secure more perfect concealment, or,
perhaps, elude pursuit more effectually.
It seemed also most likely, under the circumstances, that he had
actually gone as far as Liverpool, and from that port to America. If
that were the case it would be difficult, if not impossible, ever to
get on his track or discover him. The only chance appeared to be in
the probability that he would send, in some way or other, for those
things which he had left in the lodging-house. Judging by the
enumeration which the landlord had given, they were too valuable to
be lost, and in most cases the owner would make some effort to
recover them. The magistrate said that he would direct the landlord
to keep the things carefully, and, if any inquiry ever came after
them, to give immediate information to the police. This was evidently
the only way of ever catching Gualtier.
The motive for this crime appeared quite plain to these inquirers.
Judging by the facts, it seemed as though Gualtier and Hilda had been
lovers, and had planned this so as to secure all the property of the
younger sister. To Obed the motive was still more plain, though he
did not tell what he knew--namely, the important fact that Hilda was
not the sister at all of her victim, and that her own property was
small in comparison with that of the one at whose life she aimed. He
thought that to tell this even to the police would be a violation of
sacred confidence. After the commission of the crime it seemed plain
that these criminals had taken to flight together, most probably to
America. This they could easily do, as their funds were all portable.
A careful look-out at the lodging-house was evidently the only means
by which the track of the fugitives could be discovered. Even this
would take a long time, but it was the only thing that could be done.
After this a careful examination was made of the things which
Gualtier had left behind at the lodging-house. The pictures were
found to be very valuable; the piano, also, was new--one of
Collard's--and estimated to be worth one hundred and fifty pounds.
The jewel box was found to contain articles of great value, some
diamond rings, and turquoise and pearl. Many of the things looked
like keepsakes, some of them having inscriptions, such as "To
M.--from G.," "To M.--from L.," "From Mother." These seemed like
things which no living man could willingly give up. How could it be
known that Gualtier had indeed given up such sacred possessions as
these?
On opening the trunks, one was found to contain books, chiefly French
novels, and the other clothes. None of these gave any fresh clew to
the home or the friends of the fugitive.
Last of all was the writing-desk. This was opened with intense
curiosity. It was hoped that here something might be discovered.
It was well filled with papers. But a short examination served to
show that, in the first place, the papers were evidently considered
very valuable by the owner; and, in the second place, that they were
of no earthly value to any one else. They were, in short, three
different manuscript novels, whose soiled and faded appearance seemed
to speak of frequent offerings to different publishers, and as
frequent refusals. There they lay, still cherished by the author,
inclosed in his desk, lying there to be claimed perhaps at some
future time. There were, in addition to these, a number of receipted
bills, and some season tickets for railways and concerts--and that
was all.
Nothing, therefore, was discovered from this examination. Yet the
result gave hope. It seemed as if no man would leave things like
these--this piano, these pictures, these keepsakes--and never seek to
get them again. Those very manuscript novels, rejected as they had
been, were still things which the author would not willingly give up.
The chances, therefore, were very great that at some time, in some
way, some application would be made for this property. And on this
the magistrate relied confidently.
Obed spent another day in London, and had another interview with the
magistrate. He found, however, that nothing more could be done by
him, or by any one else, at present, and so he returned to Naples via
Marseilles. He called on the prefect of police at the latter city to
acquaint him with the latest intelligence of this affair; heard that
nothing more had been discovered about Mathilde, and then went on his
way, arriving in due time at his destination. He told his sister the
result of his journey, but to Zillah he told nothing at all about it.
Having done all that man could do, Obed now settled himself down once
more in Naples, beguiling his time between the excitement of
excursions with his friends, and the calm of domestic life with his
family. Naples, on the whole, seemed to him the pleasantest spot to
stay in that he had seen for a long time and he enjoyed his life
there so much that he was in no hurry to leave it.