I RECEIVE A STRANGE VISITOR.
Before I went to bed a little incident occurred which it may be as
well to mention. It will be in the remembrance of the reader that when
I discovered the dagger which M. Felix had thrown at Emilia on the
occasion of her visit to him, I placed it behind the massive sideboard
in the sitting-room, my purpose being to conceal it from prying eyes.
Curious to see whether the weapon had been disturbed I took a candle
and looked. It was still there, and I was about to move away when my
attention was attracted to another object which lay edgewise by its
side. This object was a photograph, which had evidently dropped behind
the sideboard, and had lain there neglected for some time. Thinking it
might be the photograph of M. Felix I managed to nick it forward, and
presently was able to reach it with my hand. It was covered with dust,
which I blew away, disclosing the picture of a young man with a
handsome, prepossessing face. "If this is a likeness of M. Felix," I
mused, "it proves how little the features of a man are an index to his
character." There was something peculiarly winning in the expression
of the face; and there was a smile in the eyes and on the lips. The
picture had faded with time, but was still distinct and clear in its
outlines. I determined to ask Mrs. Middlemore in the morning whether
it was a likeness of M. Felix, and I put it on the table and retired
to bed. I had had a long and tiring day, and I slept soundly. At eight
o'clock I jumped up, ready and eager to resume the task upon which I
was engaged. I had almost finished dressing when my eyes fell upon the
picture I had found upon the previous night, and I took it again in my
hand and examined it by the morning's light. Looking at the back of
the card I saw some writing there, the name of a man and a date which
fixed the time at nineteen years ago. The name was "Gerald Paget."
I was inexpressibly relieved. The picture, then, was not that of M.
Felix, but of Emilia's husband. I was glad to possess it, and glad
also of the mute evidence it presented, denoting that the original
must have been of a frank and honest nature. I put it in my pocket
without scruple; intrinsically the portrait was of no value, and I
considered myself entitled to appropriate it. To make sure, however,
that the likeness was not that of M. Felix, I showed it to Mrs.
Middlemore, without informing her how I had become possessed of it.
She had never seen it, she said, and it was not a portrait of M.
Felix, who was a different kind of man. Satisfied on this point I went
out with Sophy to hire a servant to take her place in her absence. We
had no difficulty in obtaining one; as Sophy had said, we could have
obtained a score, and we picked out the nicest and most amenable, the
choice being Sophy's, upon whose judgment in this selection it was
safest to depend. The new domestic being officially installed in Mrs.
Middlemore's kitchen, I gave that worthy woman "something on account,"
and bade her good-morning, and told her that Sophy and I would
probably be absent for two or three weeks.
"You'll take care of 'er, sir, I'm sure," said Mrs. Middlemore.
"You need have no anxiety," I replied. "She will be quite safe with
me."
Before these words were exchanged I had asked Sophy whether she was
still of the same mind as she had been on the previous evening.
"'Course I am," said Sophy. "I wouldn't give it up for nothink you
could orfer me."
She had given herself "a good scrub," and had tidied her hair, and I
was surprised at the difference this made in her appearance.
"Now, Sophy," I said, after I had bidden Mrs. Middlemore good-by,
"here are four sovereigns. Go to some wardrobe shop where you are not
known, and buy a complete outfit of second-hand decent clothes,
stockings, petticoats, boots, and everything you wear, and come to my
rooms in them at half-past one. Be careful that you choose neat
clothing, nothing showy or conspicuous; the way you are dressed the
next time I see you will prove whether you understand what it is I
wish you to do."
"You sha'n't find fault with me," said Sophy, with tears in her eyes.
"I never thought I should 'ave sech a slice of luck as this."
At noon I was in my chambers, having arranged with the editor of the
_Evening Moon_ for another absence from duty. Bob Tucker was to come
at one, and I employed the intervening minutes in setting things right
in my rooms. I should have liked to go to Emilia for the purpose of
showing her the picture I had found, and of receiving confirmation
that it was a portrait of her husband, but I had not the time. The
chimes of Westminster had just proclaimed the half-hour when I heard a
knock at the outer door of my chambers. "Bob is early," I thought, and
I went and opened the door. A stranger confronted me, a middle-aged
man, with sandy hair and light fluffy whiskers, and of a rather
ponderous build.
"I have come to see Mr. Agnold," said the stranger.
"He is busy," I replied, testily, "and cannot be seen." I did not know
the man, and the business I had to transact was too important for
interruption.
"I will wait," said the stranger, coolly.
"It will be useless waiting," I said. "Mr. Agnold cannot be seen
to-day."
"I will wait till to-morrow," said the stranger, pulling his fluffy
whiskers, and gazing at me with more than warrantable attention.
"Yes," I said, "call to-morrow, and unless your errand is urgent and
personal do not call at all. Mr. Agnold's time is valuable."
I closed the door unceremoniously in his face and re-entered my
sitting-room. My behavior is open to an unfavorable construction, I
admit, but bachelors living in chambers in the houses roundabout are
much annoyed by persons who intrude at all unseasonable hours, and who
for the most part turn out to be commercial travellers desirous to
show you samples of goods you do not want. But there was another
reason in this particular instance for my unceremonious treatment of
the uninvited visitor. All the time he was speaking to me I was
conscious that he was observing me in a manner which I resented. There
was an intentional rudeness in his pertinacious scrutiny which aroused
in me a certain anger, which, reasonably or unreasonably, was a guide
in my conduct toward him.
I resumed my employment, but my mind was disturbed by the incident,
and I could not drive it away. The man could not be a commercial
traveller, I reflected, for those individuals are models of pleasantry
and politeness, and do everything in their power to win your good
graces. What, therefore, could be his object in paying me a visit? Had
I done wrong in sending him away without inquiring its nature?
"Confound the fellow!" I said. "He has got into my head and is likely
to remain there, a fixture. I suppose he has gone."
I went to the door and threw it open. On a little bench in the lobby
outside sat the man, quietly and patiently.
"Not gone!" I cried.
"Not gone," he replied.
"You heard what I said, did you not?"
"Perfectly. You said Mr. Agnold cannot be seen to-day. Upon which I
replied that I would wait till to-morrow."
"To wait here?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, to wait here till to-morrow, or the next day, or the next. In
point of fact, to wait till I have had a few minutes' chat with Mr.
Agnold."
"I am Mr. Agnold," I said, angrily.
"I knew that all along," he said, with irritating politeness.
"What is it you want with me? Will you detain me long?"
"Not very long; it will depend upon yourself. I come on behalf of Dr.
Peterssen."
My anger instantly subsided; I became as cool as my visitor.
"Enter," I said, "and let us get it over. Who is Dr. Peterssen, and
what has he got to do with me, or I with him?"
These last words were spoken when my visitor and I were standing face
to face in my sitting-room.
"Oh, I am not here to answer questions," said my visitor. "I have a
commission to execute, and a question or two myself to ask on behalf
of Dr. Peterssen."
"Which I shall answer or not, as I please."
"Of course it is entirely within your discretion; I cannot force you;
I am merely an instrument."
"I must know with whom I am conversing," I said, "before we proceed
further."
He handed me a card, on which was printed, "Mr. Nettlefold, The Elms,
Ealing."
"I never heard of you," I said, putting the card on the table.
"I can't help that," he responded. "Perhaps it will expedite matters
if I inform you that I do not come from Dr. Peterssen direct. Before
presenting myself to you I paid a visit to Mr. Bob Tucker."
I was confounded. Was the cunning scheme suggested by Bob, and to
carry out which I had enlisted Sophy's services, to be nipped in the
bud?
"Mr. Tucker," continued Mr. Nettlefold, "refused all explanations, and
referred me to you, who, it seems, are the prime mover in this
affair."
"In what affair?"
"As you are aware, Dr. Peterssen resides at Tylney House, Sheldon. He
desires this fact to be widely known, having no motives for secrecy.
Mr. Bob Tucker has been prowling about this neighborhood lately,
making inquiries concerning Dr. Peterssen, and prying into his private
affairs in a manner to which Dr. Peterssen does not propose to
submit."
"A nice mess Bob has made of it," I thought. "What a fool I was to
trust to him!"
"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Nettlefold, "did you speak?"
"I did not."
"I thought I saw your lips move. To continue. Mr. Bob Tucker could not
have been aware that while he was thus clumsily playing Paul Pry, he
was himself being watched, and that all the information given to him
of Dr. Peterssen's affairs was false. When Mr. Tucker left Sheldon he
was followed and his address in London discovered. He paid you a visit
last night, and your address was discovered. I am commissioned by Dr.
Peterssen to inquire your motive for your proceedings?"
"I shall answer no questions. Finish your commission, and go."
"Very well. I am instructed to say that should Mr. Bob Tucker, or you,
or any person in your employ, come again to Sheldon for the purpose of
making injurious inquiries, he, you, or the other person will receive
a sound horsewhipping, and after that a ducking in a convenient pond.
That is all. Have you anything to say?"
"Just one observation. You can tell Dr. Peterssen in the plainest
possible terms that I know him to be an infernal scoundrel, and that
it is my intention to expose him. I shall visit Sheldon very soon, and
he will have an opportunity of putting his threats into execution; it
will then be seen who has the most to fear, he or I. There is the
door, Mr. Nettlefold. Remove yourself quickly, if you do not wish to
be removed."
To my astonishment, my visitor, instead of hurrying to the door, threw
himself into my most comfortable arm-chair, and burst into a loud fit
of laughter. I had not recovered from my astonishment before he spoke.
"Capital. Capital. Settled my disguise last night. Carried it out this
morning. Took me about an hour. Altered my voice. Altered the way I
speak as Bob Tucker. Changed my clothes. And my hair. And my manner.
Rather good isn't it? Compliment me."
And there in my chair sat, not Mr. Nettlefold, but my old friend Bob
Tucker, laughing and wagging his head at the trick he had played me.
"Upon my word, Bob," I said with a feeling of great relief, "you gave
me a turn. I should never have known you."
"Thought you wouldn't. When I looked in the glass didn't know myself.
Thought I was another fellow. Thought I'd try it on you first, to make
sure, you know."
"Bob," I said, shaking hands heartily with him, "you're splendid.
Scotland Yard's a fool to you. I would trust you with my life."
"You might. It would be quite safe with me. So long as you kept your
breath. Think I'm a match for Peterssen?"
"For a dozen Peterssens. You're a gem of the first water. I've hardly
got over it."
"Don't think any more of it. Plenty of time by and by. Always knew I
was cut out for this sort of thing. Let's to business. You see what
I've done. What have you done?"
"I have got the girl."
"Good. Sharp! Clever! Cool!"
"You shall see her; she will be here soon."
Then I related to him everything I knew of Sophy, and dwelt especially
upon her behavior on the night of the disappearance of the body of M.
Felix, which I could see made a powerful impression upon him.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Got pluck, that girl. Seems just the article
we want."
His admiration increased when I told him of the expedient suggested by
Sophy to keep her lack of education from the knowledge of Dr.
Peterssen's people.
"She's a nugget," he said. "Take quite an interest in her already.
Possibilities in that girl. She will come through this affair with
flying colors."
"That is my opinion, Bob. She will be a relation of yours, I suppose."
"Step-daughter," he said, with a wink. "By my first wife. The girl in
the way then. Much more in the way now. Why? Her mother's dead, and
I'm married again. Conundrum. What relation is she to my second wife?
Work it out. Name, Maria. A perfect encumbrance. Dumb from her birth.
And silly. Horrible nuisance. No vice in her. Not dangerous in the
least. Therefore, friendly patient. No restraint or punishment. To be
allowed to go about the house and grounds. Do as she likes. Must sleep
in room by herself. Will give no trouble. Quarter paid in advance.
Make her happy, and she shall remain for years. Must be kindly
treated. Will programme do?"
"It is excellently arranged."
"I go down as Mr. Nettlefold, The Elms, Ealing. Cousin of mine lives
there. Should letters addressed Nettlefold arrive, will forward them
on to me wherever I am. As I say, go down as Mr. Nettlefold. Leave
Sheldon as such. Return to Sheldon as another man. To watch over
Sophy, otherwise Maria. Got danger signals ready." He produced a
number of small pellets, some blue, some white, weighted, and attached
to thin cords. "Sophy," he continued, "otherwise Maria, ties these to
underclothing. Stays. String of petticoat. Anything. Detaches one when
required. I'll instruct her. Every day one thrown over wall. None
thrown, go in and see her. Quite safe. Will she remain long?"
I answered that I thought she would be able to get hold of the desk in
less than a week, and that under no circumstances should she remain
longer than a fortnight. If she could not accomplish her task in that
time it would be useless to keep her there. We continued talking about
the arrangements till half-past one, when my faithful and punctual
Sophy made her appearance. She looked the picture of neatness, and her
eyes beamed when I expressed approval of her attire. Bob gazed upon
her with satisfaction.
"She'll do," he said. "You keep quiet. I'll take her in hand."
I left it to him to explain matters and to teach her her lesson. He
could have had no apter pupil; in less than half an hour she was
proficient.
"We start, the three of us," said Bob, "at three o'clock. Not for
Sheldon. Four miles from there is a large village, Nutford. We put up
there. Arrive six-twenty. Have dinner. Dark night. Walk to Sheldon.
Reconnoitre. Show you the wall, where you can get over. If you want
to. Show you where to throw pellets. Four o'clock every afternoon.
Convenient time. Dr. Peterssen probably away. Feel all right?"
"As right as a trivet," said Sophy.
"You're a girl--after my own heart. Have something to eat before we
start. Tuck away."
At three o'clock we were in the train which was to convey us to our
destination.