A PARTIAL SUCCESS.
Netta had been away three weeks when one morning, just as they were
sitting down to breakfast, she suddenly came into the room. With a cry
of joy Hilda ran into her arms.
"You wicked, wicked girl!" she exclaimed. "I know that I ought not to
speak to you. You don't deserve that I should even look at you, but I
cannot help it."
Miss Purcell embraced her niece more soberly, but Hilda saw by the
expression of her face that her niece's return relieved her of a burden
of anxiety which at times she had had difficulty in concealing.
"In the first place, Netta, before I even give you a cup of tea, tell me
if this is a final return, or whether you are going to disappear again."
"That we will decide after you have heard my story," Netta said quietly.
"And have you got any news of Walter?"
"I am not sure; I think so. So you have kept my secret, aunt?"
"I promised that I would, dear, and of course I have kept my word,
though it was very difficult to resist Hilda's pleading. Dr. Leeds, too,
has been terribly anxious about you, and not a day has passed that he
has not run in for a few minutes to learn if there was any news."
"I don't see why he should have known that I have been away."
"Why, my dear," Hilda said, "coming here as often as he does, he
naturally inquired where you were, and as I was uncertain how long you
would be away, and as he had always been in our counsels, I could hardly
keep him in the dark, even had I wished to do so. Now, my dear, let us
know all about it; there can be no possible reason for keeping silent
any longer."
"Well, Hilda, the whole affair has been very simple, and there was not
the least occasion for being anxious. I simply wanted to keep it quiet
because I felt that you would raise all sorts of objections to the plan.
We had, as you know, thought over a great many methods by which we might
overhear a conversation between John Simcoe and the man on Pentonville
Hill. But it seemed next to be impossible that it could be managed
there. Suddenly the idea came into my brain that, as a servant at
Simcoe's lodgings in Jermyn Street, I might have an excellent chance."
Hilda gave an exclamation of horror.
"My dear Netta, you never can really have thought of carrying this out?"
"I not only thought of it, but did it. With a little management the girl
there was got hold of, and as it fortunately happened that she did not
like London and wanted to take a country situation, there was very
little difficulty, and she agreed to introduce me as a friend who was
willing to take her place. Of course, it took a few days to make all the
arrangements and to get suitable clothes for the place, and these I sent
by parcel delivery, and on the morning of the day that the girl was to
leave presented myself at the house. The man and his wife were good
enough to approve of my appearance. They had, it seemed, three sets of
lodgers, one on each floor; the man himself waited upon them, and my
work was to do their rooms and keep the house tidy generally."
Again Hilda gave a gasp.
"There was nothing much in that," Netta went on, without heeding her. "I
used to do most of the house work when we were in Germany, and I think
that I gave every satisfaction. Of course the chief difficulty was about
my deafness. I was obliged to explain to them that I was very hard of
hearing unless I was directly spoken to. Mr. Johnstone always answered
the bells himself when he was at home. Of course, when he was out it
was my duty to do so. When I was downstairs it was simple enough, for I
only had to go to the door of the room of which I saw the bell in
motion. At first they seemed to think that the difficulty was
insuperable; but I believe that in other respects I suited them so well
that they decided to make the best of it, and when her husband was out
and I was upstairs Mrs. Johnstone took to answering the door bells, or
if a lodger rang, which was not very often, for her husband seldom went
out unless they were all three away, she would come upstairs and tell
me. Johnstone himself said to me one day that I was the best girl he had
ever had, and that instead of having to go most carefully over the
sitting rooms before the gentlemen came in for breakfast, he found that
everything was so perfectly dusted and tidied up that there was really
nothing for him to do.
"But oh, Hilda, I never had the slightest idea before how untidy men
are! The way they spill their tobacco ash all over the room, and put the
ends of their cigars upon mantelpieces, tables, and everywhere else, you
would hardly believe it. The ground floor and the second floor were the
worst, for they very often had men in of an evening, and the state of
the rooms in the morning was something awful. Our man was on the first
floor, and did not give anything like so much trouble, for he almost
always went out in the evening and never had more than one or two
friends in with him. One of these friends was the man we saw with him in
the Row, and who, we had no doubt, was an accomplice of his. He came
oftener than anyone else, very often coming in to fetch him. As he was
always in evening dress I suppose they went to some club or to the
theater together. I am bound to say that his appearance is distinctly
that of a gentleman.
"I had taken with me two or three things that I foresaw I should want.
Among them was an auger, and some corks of a size that would exactly fit
the hole that it would make. Simcoe's bedroom communicated with the
sitting room, and he always used this door in going from one room to the
other; and it was evident that it was only through that that I could get
a view of what was going on. I did not see how I could possibly make a
hole through the door itself. It was on one side, next to that where the
fireplace was, and there was a window directly opposite, and of course a
hole would have been noticed immediately. The only place that I could
see to make it was through the door frame. Its position was a matter of
much calculation, I can assure you. The auger was half an inch bore. I
dared not get it larger, and it would have been hopeless to try and see
anything with a smaller one, especially as the hole would have to be
four or five inches long. As I sometimes went into the room when they
were together, either with hot water or grilled bones, or something of
that sort, I was able to notice exactly where the chairs were generally
placed. Simcoe sat with his back to the bedroom door, and the other man
on the other side of the hearthrug, facing him. I, therefore, decided to
make the hole on the side nearest to the wall, so that I could see the
other man past Simcoe. Of course I wanted the hole to be as low as
possible, as it would not be so likely to be noticed as it would were it
higher up. I chose a point, therefore, that would come level with my eye
when I was kneeling down.
"At about four o'clock in the afternoon they always went out, and from
then till six Johnstone also took his airing, and I went upstairs to
turn down the beds and tidy up generally. It was very seldom that any of
them dined at home; I, therefore, had that two hours to myself. I got
the line the hole should go by leaving the door open, fastening a stick
to the back of a chair till it was, as nearly as I could judge, the
height of the man's face, tying a piece of string to it and bringing it
tight to the point where I settled the hole should start, and then
marking the line the string made across the frame. Then there was a good
deal more calculation as to the side-slant; but ten days ago I boldly
set to work and bored the hole. Everything was perfectly right; I could
see the head of the stick, and the circle was large enough for me to
get all the man's face in view. Of course I had put a duster on the
ground to prevent any chips falling onto the carpet.
"I was a little nervous when I set to work to drill that hole; it was
the only time that I felt nervous at all. I had beforehand drilled
several holes in the shelves of cupboards, so as to accustom myself to
use the auger, and it did not take me many minutes before it came
through on the other side. The corks were of two sizes; one fitted
tightly into the hole, the other could be drawn in or out with very
little difficulty. I had gone out one day and bought some tubes of paint
of the colors that I thought would match the graining of the door frame.
I also bought a corkscrew that was about an inch and a half shorter than
the depth of the hole. It was meant to be used by a cross-piece that
went through a hole at the top. I had got this cross-piece out with some
trouble, and tied a short loop of string through the hole it had gone
through. I put the corkscrew into one of the smaller corks and pushed it
through until it was level with the frame on the sitting-room side, and
found that by aid of the loop of string I could draw it out easily. Then
I put one of the larger corks in at the bedroom side of the hole and
pushed it in until it was level with that side. Then I painted the ends
of the corks to resemble the graining, and when it was done they could
hardly be noticed a couple of feet away.
"I had now nothing to do but to wait until the right moment came. It
came last night. The man arrived about seven o'clock. Johnstone was out,
and I showed him upstairs. Simcoe was already dressed, and was in the
sitting room. I lost no time, but went into the bedroom, where the gas
was burning, turned down the bed on the side nearest to the door, and
then went round, and with another corkscrew I had ready in my pocket
took out the inner cork, got hold of the loop, and pulled the other one
out also. Even had I had my hearing, I could have heard nothing of what
was said inside, for the doors were of mahogany, and very well fitted,
and Johnstone had said one day that even if a man shouted in one room he
would hardly be heard in the next, or on the landing. I pushed a wedge
under the door so as to prevent its being opened suddenly. That was the
thing that I was most afraid of. I thought that Simcoe could hardly move
without coming within my line of sight, and that I should have time to
jump up and be busy at the bed before he could open the door. But I was
not sure of this, so I used the wedge. If he tried the door and could
not open it, he would only suppose that the door had stuck and I could
snatch out the wedge and kick it under the bed by the time he made a
second effort.
"Kneeling down, I saw to my delight that my calculations had been
perfectly right. I could see the man's face well, for the light of the
candles fell full upon it. They talked for a time about the club and the
men they were going to dine with, and I began to be afraid that there
was going to be nothing more, when the man said, 'By the way, Simcoe, I
went down to Tilbury yesterday.' What Simcoe said, of course, I could
not hear; but the other answered, 'Oh, yes, he is all right, getting
quite at home, the man said; and has almost ceased to talk about his
friends.' Then I saw him rise, and at once jumped up and went on turning
down the bed, lest Simcoe should have forgotten something and come in
for it. However, he did not, and two or three minutes later I peeped in
again. The room was all dark, and I knew that they had gone. Then I put
my corks in again, saw that the paint was all right, and went
downstairs. I told Mrs. Johnstone that, if I could be spared, I should
like to go out for two or three hours this morning to see a friend in
service. It was the time that I could best be spared. I should have
finished the sitting rooms by eight o'clock, and as none of the men have
breakfast until about eleven, there was plenty of time for me to make
the beds after I got back."
Hilda was crying now. Her relief that hearing that Walter was alive and
well was unbounded. She had absolutely refused to recognize the body
found in the canal, but she could not but admit that the probabilities
were all against her. It was certain that the clothes were his, the
child's age was about the same, the body must have been in the water the
right length of time, the only shadow of evidence to support her was the
hair. She had taken the trouble to go to two or three workhouses, and
found that the coroner's assertion that soft hair when cut quite close
will, in a very short time, stand upright, was a correct one. She kept
on hoping against hope, but her faith had been yielding, especially
since Netta's absence had deprived her of the support that she obtained
from her when inclined to look at matters from a dark point of view.
"Oh, Netta," she cried, "how can I thank you enough! How happy the news
has made me! And to think that I have been blaming you, while you have
been doing all this. You cannot tell what a relief it is to me. I have
thought so much of that poor little body, and the dread that it was
Walter's after all has been growing upon me. I have scarcely slept for a
long time."
"I know, dear. It was because I saw that though you still kept up an
appearance of hope, you were really in despair, and could tell from your
heavy eyes when you came down of a morning that you had hardly slept,
that I made up my mind something must be done. There was no hardship
whatever in my acting as a servant for a month or two. I can assure you
that I regarded it rather as fun, and was quite proud of the credit that
my master gave me. Now, the question is, shall I go back again?"
"Certainly not, Netta. You might be months there without having such a
piece of luck again. At any moment you might be caught listening, or
they might notice the hole that you made so cleverly. Besides, we have
gained a clew now to Walter's hiding place. But even that is as nothing
to me in comparison with having learned that he is alive and well, and
that he has ceased to fret and is becoming contented in his new home. We
can afford to wait now. Sooner or later we are sure to find him.
Before, I pictured him, if still alive, as shut up in some horrible
cellar. Now I can be patient. I think that we are sure to find him
before long."
"Well, I think, dear," Miss Purcell said quietly, "that we had better
ring the bell and have some fresh tea made. Everything is perfectly
cold, for it is three-quarters of an hour since it came up."
Hilda rang the bell and gave the necessary orders.
"Let Janet bring the things up, Roberts, and come back yourself when you
have given the order. I want to send a line to Dr. Leeds. You will be
delighted to hear that Miss Purcell has learned, at least, that Walter
is alive and well; but mind," she went on, as the old soldier was about
to burst out into exclamations of delight, "you must keep this
altogether to yourself. It is quite possible that we have been watched
as closely as we have been watching this man, and that he may in some
way learn everything that passes here; therefore it must not be
whispered outside this room that we have obtained any news."
"I understand, miss. I won't say a word about it downstairs."
Hilda scribbled a line in pencil to the doctor, saying that Netta was
back and that she had obtained some news of a favorable description, and
that, as she knew that at this hour he could not get away, she would
come over with Netta at once to tell him what they had learned, and
would be in Harley Street within half an hour of his getting the
message.
As soon as they had finished breakfast they drove to the doctor's. They
were shown up into the drawing room, where Dr. Leeds joined them almost
immediately.
"We are not going to detain you more than two or three minutes," Hilda
said, while he shook hands warmly with Netta. "You must come over this
evening, and then you shall hear the whole story; but I thought that it
was only fair that Netta should have the satisfaction of telling you
herself what she had learned."
"It is very little, but so far as it goes it is quite satisfactory, Dr.
Leeds. I heard, or rather I saw, the man we suspected of being Simcoe's
accomplice say, 'By the way, I ran down to Tilbury yesterday.' Simcoe
then said something, but what I could not tell, as his face was hidden
from me, and the man in reply said, 'Oh, yes, he is all right, and has
almost ceased to talk about his friends.' Now you must be content with
that until this evening."
"I will be content with it," the doctor said, "if you will assure me
that you are not going away again. If you will not, I will stop here and
hear the whole story, even at the risk of a riot down in my waiting
room."
"No, she is not going away, doctor; she had not quite settled about it
when she got back this morning, but I settled it for her. I will take
care that she does not slip out of my sight till after you have seen her
and talked it all over."
"Then the matter is finally settled," Netta said, "for unless I go in
half an hour's time I cannot go at all."
"Then I will be patient until this evening."
"Will you come to dinner, doctor?" Hilda said. "I have sent notes off to
Mr. Pettigrew and Colonel Bulstrode to ask them to come, as I have news
of importance to give them."
"What will they do, Netta, when they find that you do not come back?"
Hilda asked as they drove away.
"That has puzzled me a good deal. I quite saw that if I disappeared
suddenly they might take it into their heads that something had happened
to me, and might go to the police office and say I was missing. But that
would not be the worst. Simcoe might guess, when he heard that I had
gone without notice and left my things behind me, that I had been put
there to watch him. He certainly would not suspect that he could have
been overheard, for he must know that it would be quite impossible for
any words to be heard through the doors; still, he would be uneasy, and
might even have the child moved to some other locality. So I have
written a note, which we can talk over when we get in. Of course they
may think that I have behaved very badly in throwing them over like
this, but it is better that they should do that than they should think
there was anything suspicious about it. My wages are due to-morrow; like
the girl I succeeded, I was to have eight pounds a year. I have left my
box open, so that the mistress can see for herself that there is none of
the lodgers' property in it. There are two or three print dresses--I put
on my Sunday gown when I came out--and the underclothes are all duly
marked Jane Clotworthy."
"What a name to take, Netta!"
"Yes, I do not know how I came to choose it. I was thinking what name I
would take when Clotworthy flashed across my mind. I don't think that I
ever heard the name before, and how I came to think of it I cannot
imagine; it seemed to me a sort of inspiration, so I settled on it at
once."
"Now, let me see the letter," Hilda asked, as soon as they returned
home.
"I hardly liked to write it," Netta said, "it is such a wicked story;
but I don't see how a person can act as detective without telling
stories, and, at any rate, it is perfectly harmless."
"Oh, yes; it is quite certain, Netta, that you could not write and tell
her that you have been in her house in disguise, and that, having found
out what you wanted, you have now left her. Of course you must make up a
story of some sort, or, as you say, Simcoe would at once suspect that
you had been sent there to watch him. He might feel perfectly sure that
no conversation could have been heard outside the room, but he could not
be sure that you might not have been hidden under the table or sofa, or
behind a curtain. When so much depends upon his thinking that he is
absolutely safe, one must use what weapons one can. If you have any
scruples about it, I will write the letter for you."
"No, I do not think the scruples will trouble me," Netta laughed. "Of
course, I have had to tell stories, and one more or less will not weigh
on my mind. Here is the letter. If you can think of any better reason
for running away so suddenly, by all means let me have it."
The letter was written in a sprawling hand, and with many of the words
misspelt. It began:
"DEAR MRS. JOHNSTONE: I am afraid you will think very badly of me
for leaving you so sudding, after you and Mr. Johnstone have been
so kind to me, but who should I meet at my friend's but my young
man. We were ingaged to be married, but we had a quarrel, and that
is why I came up to town so sudding. We has made it up. He only
come up yesterday, and is going down this morning, and nothing
would do but that I must go down with him and that we should get
married directly. He says that as the banns has been published
there aint any occasion to wait, and we might be married at the end
of the week, as he has got everything ready and is in good
employment. So the long and the short of it is, mam, that I am
going down with him home this afternoon. As to the wages that was
due to-morrow, of course I forfeit them, and sorry I am to give you
troubil, by leaving you without a girl. My box is not locked, plese
look in it and you will see that there aint nothing there that
isn't my own. In one corner you will find half a crown wrapped up
in paper, plese take that to pay for the carriage of the box, the
key is in the lock, and I send a labil to tie on."
"What do you think of that, Hilda?"
"I think it will do capitally. I don't think any better excuse could be
made. But where will you have the box sent?"
"That is what we must settle together. It would not do to send it down
to some little village, for if the address was unknown it might be sent
back again."
"Yes; and if John Simcoe had any suspicions that the story was a false
one he might go down there to make inquiries about Jane Clotworthy, and,
finding no such name known there, and the box still lying at the
station, his suspicion that he had been watched would become almost a
certainty."
"I should think that Reading would be a good place to send to it. 'Jane
Clotworthy, Luggage Office, Reading.' Then I could go down myself and
ask for it, and could bring it up by the next train."
"Tom Roberts could do that, Netta; there is no reason why you should
trouble about it."
"I think that I had better go myself. It is most unlikely that Simcoe
would send down anyone to watch who took the box away, but if he should
be very uneasy he might do so. He would be sure to describe me to anyone
that he sent, so that it would be better that I should go myself."
"I think that your story is so plausible, Netta, that there is no risk
whatever of his having any doubts about it, but still one cannot be too
careful."
"Then I will wind up the letter.
"'Begging your pardon for having left you in the lurch so sudding.
I remain, your obedient servant,
"'Jane Clotworthy.
"'P.S.--I am very sorry.
"'P.S.--Plese give my respects to Mr. Johnstone, and excuse
blots.'"
Hilda burst into a fit of laughter as she glanced at the postscript.
"That will do admirably, Netta," she said. "Now how had we better send
it?"
"I should think that your maid had better take it. You might tell her to
ring at the bell, hand it to the woman, and come away at once, without
talking, except saying 'I was told to give you this.' Then she would be
well away before Mrs. Johnstone had mastered the contents of the note.
It had better be sent off at once, for by this time they will be getting
in a way."
"I think that I had better send Roberts. No doubt Johnstone himself
will be in, and will answer the door; and he might ask Lucy where she
came from, and I don't want to tell her anything. Roberts could say that
a young woman of his acquaintance, down Chelsea way, asked him to get on
a 'bus and leave it for her. He can be trusted, if the man does detain
him and ask him questions, to give sensible answers."
The letter was sealed and Roberts called up.
"Take a cab and go down with this to Jermyn Street," Hilda said. "I want
it left at that house. If the man who opens the door asks you who you
have brought it from, say from a young woman, a friend of yours, in a
place down Chelsea way. I don't suppose that he will ask any other
questions, and you had best say 'Good-morning,' and saunter off
carelessly, as if, having done your errand, you had nothing else on
hand. Of course you won't drive up to the door. Leave the cab round the
corner, and come straight back here in it."
"All right, miss," he answered.
There was a little look of amusement in the man's face as he glanced at
Netta that did not this time pass unnoticed by his mistress. She waited
until the door had closed behind him, and then turned sharply on her
friend.
"I believe, Netta, you have had Roberts in your confidence all the time,
and while we have all been working ourselves into a fever as to where
you could be, he has known it all along."
"One cannot work without accomplices," Netta laughed. "It was necessary
that someone should make arrangements with the servant there for me to
take her place, and who could I trust better than Roberts? I think
Colonel Bulstrode's servant helped in the matter; at any rate, they
managed it capitally between them. Of course it was Roberts who carried
my box out that morning. You must not be angry with him, Hilda, for
keeping it from you. I made him promise most faithfully that nothing
should induce him to confess."
"I shan't be angry with him, Netta, but you may be sure that I shall
give him a little lecture and say that I will have no more meddling on
his part, except by my express orders. It is really annoying, you know,
to think that all this time we were fretting about you there was Roberts
going about laughing in his sleeve."
"Well, you know, Hilda, he has the discovery of Walter as much at heart
as we have, and he has certainly not spared himself in the search for
him."
"No, that he has not. He is a faithful fellow, and I promise you that I
won't be too hard on him."