The hours passed but slowly. The man who had first answered my summons
brought me some food but to all my arguments he remained obdurate.
"The cap'n says you're to stay 'ere," he responded, "and if I let you
out he'd put me in irons. Old Banfield ain't a skipper to be trifled
with, I can tell yer."
So I remained there, filled with gloomy thoughts, and wondering where I
was being taken, and what possible interest Messrs. Hanway, the owners
of the _Petrel_, could have in my forcible abduction.
I sat there, helpless and puzzled, until it grew quite dark, then my
head feeling heavy, and my limbs exhausted on account of the drug that
had been so ingeniously administered to me, I threw myself down, and the
motion of the vessel soon lulled me to sleep.
The long green waves were sweeping past in the sunlight when I again
opened my eyes, and from the porthole I could see a large steamer with a
pair of red and black funnels in the distance, leaving a long trail of
smoke behind her. Soon, however, she was beyond the range of my vision,
and I could do nothing except sit there and review the whole situation.
The beautiful face of my murdered wife arose ever before me. It seemed
to cry to me for vengeance. I was her husband, and I alone knew the
truth.
Yet it was evident that I was still in the hands of enemies, and,
imprisoned there, I could do nothing.
The day passed, and fortunately I found myself feeling better. The
effect of the noxious drug was slowly wearing off; yet the strain upon
my nerves was terrible, and the imprisonment, coupled with uncertainty
as to the future, was driving me to desperation.
A third day passed, much as the second. The only person I saw was the
sailor who brought me food from the cook's galley in the morning and at
evening--badly cooked sailors' fare that I could scarcely touch. As the
sun was sinking, we suddenly approached a blue line of coast, and
continued to skirt it until it became swallowed up in the night mists.
Then, wearied, I again lay down to sleep.
I was awakened by the sudden stoppage of the engines, and found that it
was already day again, and that we were in calm water. Outside my
porthole was a flat stone wall which shut out everything.
Much shouting and tramping sounded above, and I knew that we were being
made fast at a quay.
My opportunity for escape had arrived. If only I could break open the
door, and slip up on deck unobserved, I might regain my freedom.
Now, I had during the past two days made a most careful examination of
my cabin and of the door, during which I had noticed that, supporting
the box-like berth beneath, was an iron stay, the lower end of which was
flattened out so that it could be more easily screwed down to the floor.
The screws were loose, like most of the fittings of the badly kept
craft; therefore, after some little trouble, I managed to remove it, and
found that I held in my hand a capital crowbar.
Presently I managed to work the thin end between the door and the
lintel, and then, throwing my whole weight against it, endeavoured to
force the outer bolt from its fastenings.
My first attempt was abortive, but I saw that the screws were giving
away; therefore I continued my efforts carefully so as not to attract
attention, until, of a sudden, the socket of the bolt flew off, and the
door was burst open. Then, holding my iron bar in self-defence, I
stepped along to the foot of a ladder, by which I climbed on deck.
The vessel, it seemed, was not a large one, and of a particularly dirty
and forbidding appearance. With care I crept round the deck-house
unobserved, until I reached the gangway, and just as my presence was
discovered by the captain, I slipped across it nimbly, and was on the
quay amid a crowd of labourers, custom officers, and the usual motley
assemblage which gathers to watch an arriving vessel.
I heard the skipper shouting violently, and a couple of the crew started
in pursuit; but, taking to my heels I soon outdistanced them, and after
some little time found myself walking in a large handsome street lined
with fine shops and showy cafes. I was in Christiania.
I inquired in French of several persons the whereabouts of the British
Consulate, and about an hour later found myself in the private office of
the representative of her Majesty, a tall, good-looking man in a cool
suit of white linen.
To him I related the whole circumstances. He listened, but smiled now
and then with an air of incredulity. I told him of the murder, of the
manner in which my life had been twice attempted, and of the remarkable
circumstances of my abduction.
"And you say that you were taken on board the _Petrel_," he said
reflectively. "I know Captain Banfield quite well. He is a strict
disciplinarian, an excellent sailor, and is held in high esteem by his
men. We must hear his explanation of the affair at once. If what you
have said is true, it is certainly most remarkable."
I drew the trinket with the golden chain from my pocket, together with
the crumpled note, and showed them to him.
"Strange," he remarked. "Most extraordinary! I'll send down to the
docks for Banfield at once;" and, calling a clerk, he dispatched him in
a cab.
In the meantime, in response to his questions, I gave him the most
minute details of the startling affairs, as well as the ingenious manner
in which Beryl Wynd had been murdered. I knew that the story when
related sounded absolutely incredible; but it was equally certain that
the Consul, at first inclined to doubt my statement, had now become
highly interested in it.
I remarked upon the extraordinary mystery, and its features which seemed
to stagger belief.
"But you are a medical man of considerable attainment, I notice from
your card," he resumed. "I have no reason to doubt your story. It is
rather a matter which should be strictly inquired into. Any person
abducted from England, in the manner you have been, has a right to seek
protection and advice of his consul."
And we continued chatting until, after a lapse of nearly half an hour,
the captain of the _Petrel_, wearing his shore-going clothes, was
ushered in.
"Good morning, sir!" he exclaimed, addressing the representative of the
Foreign Office, but taking no notice of my presence. "You've sent for
me?"
"Yes, Captain," the Consul responded rather severely. "Kindly sit down.
There is a little matter upon which you can throw some light. You know
this gentleman?"--and he indicated myself.
"Yes, sir. I know 'im."
"Well, he has lodged a very serious complaint against you, namely, that
you have held him a prisoner on board your ship without any just cause;
and, further, that contrary to the regulations of the Board of Trade,
you carried him from port while in an unconscious condition." The
skipper remained quite unabashed.
"Well, sir," he answered, "as I've already told the gentleman, I've only
acted under strict orders from my owners. I suppose they'll take all
the responsibility?"
"No; the responsibility rests upon yourself. You've held a master's
certificate a good many years, and you are fully acquainted with the
Board of Trade regulations."
"Of course, I don't deny that," the other responded.
"But my orders were quite precise."
"And now, tell me, how came this gentleman on board your ship?"
"To tell the truth, sir, I don't know exactly. We were lying in the St
Katherine Docks, and my last evening ashore I spent at home with my
wife, over at Victoria Park. We were to sail at four o'clock in the
morning, but I didn't get aboard before about ten past four. When I did
so, orders from the owners were put into my hand, and I was told that
there was a passenger who'd been brought aboard, lying asleep below.
'Ere's the letter;" and he drew it from his pocket and handed it to the
Consul.
The latter read it through, then, with an exclamation of surprise,
handed it over to me.
It certainly increased the mystery, for it was from the office of the
owners, Messrs. Hanway Brothers, in Leadenhall Street, ordering that I
should be taken on the round voyage to the Baltic, well cared for, but
kept looked in a cabin, as I had developed homicidal tendencies.
"The gentleman, whose name is Doctor Colkirk," continued the letter, "is
subject to fits, in which he remains unconscious for some hours;
therefore there is no cause for alarm if he is not conscious when he
reaches you. He is under an hallucination that he has been witness of
some remarkable crime, and will, no doubt, impress upon you the urgent
necessity of returning to London for the prosecution of inquiries. If
he does this, humour him, but on no account allow him to go on deck, or
to hold conversation with any one. The gentleman is a source of the
greatest anxiety to his friends, and, we may add, that if the present
orders are strictly carried out, the gentleman's friends have promised
the payment of a handsome bonus to yourself. We therefore place him on
board the _Petrel_, in preference to any other vessel of our fleet,
because of the confidence we entertain that you will strictly carry out
your orders."
The letter was signed by the firm.
"It seems very much as though the owners had some object in sending you
aboard," observed the Consul.
Then, turning to the skipper, he asked, "How was the gentleman brought
on board?"
"He was brought in a private carriage about six o'clock in the evening,
my men say. Two gentlemen carried him on board. The dock police
stopped them, but they told the constable that the gentleman was drunk."
"And when you received this letter, what did you do?"
"Well, I put him in the second mate's cabin, and left him alone till two
days later, when he came to. Then I just carried out my orders."
"Where are you bound for?"
"The round trip--Stockholm, Riga, St Petersburg, Drammen,
Christiansund, and home."
"That means a month."
"More--six weeks."
"Your owners, therefore, were anxious that the doctor should be absent
from England during that time. There is some mystery here, on the face
of it. Doctor Colkirk has related to me a very remarkable story, and
the most searching inquiry should be instituted."
"Well, sir," Banfield said apologetically, "I hope you don't consider my
conduct bad. I've only carried out my orders to the letter. You see I
didn't know that the gentleman was on board until we'd actually left the
quay; and the letter says, quite distinctly, that he's subject to fits,
therefore I let him remain quiet until he regained consciousness."
Then, turning to me, he added, "I trust, sir, that you'll accept my
apology."
"That's all very well," interposed the Consul; "but you know that you
did entirely wrong in sailing with an unconscious stranger on board."
"I admit that. But you see I had my orders, sir."
"Who delivered them to you?" I inquired.
"The two gentlemen who brought you on board," he responded.
"Have any of your men described them to you?"
"They only said that they were both well dressed, and about middle age."
They were, without doubt, the Tempter and his accomplice. The
conspiracy had been conceived and carried out with amazing ingenuity.
"And they brought the doctor on board and delivered this letter?"
"Yes, sir. They afterwards re-entered the carriage and drove away."
"Well," said the Consul, "the only course I see is for the doctor to
take this letter, return to London, and seek an explanation of your
owners."
"No, sir, I shan't give up the letter. It's written to me," demurred
the captain.
"But it is in my hands," responded the Consul. "I am making inquiries
into this affair, and I shall act as I think best in the interest of all
parties concerned. The letter is your property, certainly; but
recollect that this affair may prove very awkward for your owners.
Therefore, take my advice, Captain, and assist this gentleman in his
inquiries."
"I protest against you keeping the letter."
"Very well, I will see that your protest is forwarded to your owners,"
replied the Consul; and he handed me the letter, saying--
"Your best course. Doctor, is to return by the Wilson boat to Hull.
She sails this afternoon at four. Then go down to Leadenhall Street
and, make inquiries--it seems a strange affair, to say the least."
"It is entirely unaccountable," I said. "There seems to have been a
widespread plot against me, with a single motive--the concealment of the
murder of Beryl Wynd."
"But in that case why not let me telegraph to Scotland Yard?" suggested
the Consul, as the sudden idea occurred to him. "They would watch the
house until your return. To-day is Tuesday. You'll be in London on
Thursday night, or early on Friday morning."
The proposal was an excellent one, and I gladly acceded. Next instant,
however, the bewildering truth flashed across my mind. I had not
hitherto realised my position. My heart sank within me.
"Would that your suggestion could be carried out," I replied. "But,
truth to tell, I don't know the house, for I took no notice of its
situation, and am unable to tell the name of the road."
"Ah! how extremely unfortunate. London is a big place, and there are
thousands of houses that are outwardly the same. Didn't the servant who
called at your surgery give you the address?"
"No; she gave it to the cabman, but I did not catch it. Men of my
profession take little heed of the exterior of houses. We make a note
of the number in our visiting-books--that's all."
"Then you really haven't any idea of the situation of the house in which
the tragedy occurred?"
"None whatever," I replied. A moment later a further thought occurred
to me, and I added, "But would not the registry of marriages give the
address of my bride?"
"Why, of course it would!" cried the Consul excitedly. "An excellent
idea. Return to London as quickly as you can, and search the marriage
register. From that I'm certain you'll obtain a clue."