THE BOAT-TRAIN
They did not leave the house by the same mysterious door by which
Freddy had entered, but by one which brought them at once into a busy
street. Vehicles were passing to and fro, and they had not gone many
steps before the captain--to give him the title which he had not
improbably himself affixed to his name--called a hansom. Bertie got
in. The captain directed the driver where to drive in an undertone,
seated himself beside his "nephew," and they were off.
During the drive not a word was spoken. Where they were going Bertie
had not the faintest notion; he felt pretty certain that he was not
really being taken home. His head was in a whirl; he was in such awe
of his companion that he scarcely dared to move, far less to use his
eyes in an endeavour to see where they were going. The cab almost
immediately turned into a busy thoroughfare. The hubbub of the traffic
and the confusion of the crowded streets completed the lad's
bewilderment, making it seem to him as though they were journeying
through pandemonium. The busy thoroughfare into which the cabman
turned was, in fact, the Strand--the Strand at what is not the least
busy hour of the day, when the people are crowding into the theatres.
The cabman took another turn into comparative quiet, and in another
minute they were whirling over Waterloo Bridge, along Waterloo Bridge
Road, into the huge terminus of the South-Western Railway. A porter
came forward to help them to alight, but the captain, dismissing him,
took his bag with one hand, and taking Bertie's own hand in the other,
stepped on to the platform of the station.
He had only taken a few steps when, pulling up, he spoke to Bailey in
low, quick, significant tones.
"Look here, my lad; I don't want to haul you about as though I'd got
you in custody, and I don't mean to let you get out of my sight. I'm
going to loose your hand, and let you walk alone. Carry this bag, and
stick as close to me as wax, or----"
A significant tap against the pocket which contained the revolver
served to complete the sentence. Bertie needed no explanation in
words; the action was as full of meaning as any eloquence of speech
could possibly have been.
The hansom had put them down at the departure platform of the
main-line trains. The captain looked at the station clock as they came
in, and Bertie, following the direction of the other's eye, saw that
it was a quarter-past nine. The station was full of people; porters
and passengers were hurrying hither and thither, mountains of baggage
were passing to and fro.
The captain turned into the booking-office, Bertie sticking close to
his side. Some wild idea of making a dash for freedom did enter his
mind, but to be dismissed as soon as it entered. What could he do? He
was fully persuaded that if he were to make the slightest sign of
attempting to escape, his companion would shoot him on the spot. But
even if he did not proceed to quite such extreme lengths, what then?
To have attempted to take to actual flight, and to have run for it,
would have been absurd. He would have been caught in an instant. His
only hope lay in an appeal to those around him. But what sort of
appeal could he have made? If he had suddenly shouted, "This man has
stolen the Countess of Ferndale's jewels, worth fifty thousand
pounds!" no doubt he would have created a sensation. But the revolver!
Bertie was quite persuaded that before he would have had time to have
made his assertion good the captain would have put his threat into
execution, and killed him like a cat, even though, to use that
gentleman's own words, he had had to hang for it five minutes
afterwards.
No; it seemed to him that the only course open to him was to obey the
captain's instructions.
There was a crowd round the ticket-office, at sight of which the
captain put the lad in front of him, and his hand upon his shoulder,
holding him tight by means of the free use of an uncomfortable amount
of pressure. Under these circumstances he could scarcely ask for
tickets without the lad hearing what it was he asked for--as in fact
he did.
"Two first for Jersey."
Two first-class tickets for Jersey! The tickets were stamped and paid
for, and they were out of the crowd again. It was some satisfaction to
know where it was they were going, but not much. He was too evidently
not being taken home again. Jersey and Upton were a good many miles
apart.
The captain went up and down the train with the apparent intention of
discovering a compartment which they might have for themselves. But if
that was his intention he sought in vain. The tourist season had
apparently set in early, and on this particular night the train was
crowded. They finally found seats in a compartment in which there were
already two passengers, and into which there quickly came two more. It
was a smoking carriage; and as the other passengers were already
smoking, and the captain lit a cigar as soon as he entered, the
atmosphere soon became nice and fresh for Bertie. Five smoking
passengers in a first-class compartment do not make things exactly
pleasant for a non-smoking sixth. The captain took a corner seat;
Bertie sat on the middle seat next to him, right in the centre of the
smoke.
They started. All the passengers, with the exception of the captain
and Bertie, had books or papers. For a time silence reigned. The
passengers read, the captain thought, the lad lamented. If the train
had only been speeding towards Slough instead of Jersey! It may be
mentioned that at this point of the expedition Bertie was not even
aware where Jersey was, and was not even conscious that to reach it
from London one had to cross the sea.
As they passed Woking the silence was broken for a moment. A tall,
thin, severe-looking gentleman, with side whiskers, and a sealskin cap
tied over his ears, having finished with the _Globe_, handed it to the
captain.
"Have you seen the _Globe_?"
"Thank you, I haven't."
The captain took it, and began to read. Almost without intending it
Bertie watched him. For some reason, though he could scarcely have
told what it was, for the reader gave no outward signs of anything of
the kind, he was persuaded that the paper contained something which
the captain found of startling interest. He saw the captain stare with
peculiar fixedness at one paragraph, never taking his eyes off it for
at least five minutes. He even thought that the captain's lips were
twitching, that the captain's face grew pale. As if perceiving the
inspection and resenting it, he drew the paper closer to him, so that
it concealed his countenance.
As they were nearing Aldershot and Farnham a little conversation was
commenced which had a peculiar interest for Bertie, if for no one else
in the compartment.
In the opposite corner, at the other end of the carriage, was seated a
stout old gentleman, with a very red face and very white hair. He wore
a gorgeous smoking-cap, which was stuck at the back of his head, and
there was something about his appearance and demeanour which impressed
the beholder with the fact that this was a gentleman of strong
opinions.
In front of him was a thin young gentleman with a pale face, who
puffed at a big meerschaum pipe as though he did not exactly like it.
He was reading a novel with a yellow back, which all the world could
perceive was _The Adventures of Harry Lorrequer_. The old gentleman
had been reading the _Evening Standard_ through a pair of gold glasses
of the most imposing size and pattern.
He had apparently finished with his paper, for he lowered it and
stared through his glasses at the thin young man in front of him. The
thin young man did not seem to be made the more comfortable by his
gaze.
"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
This was said in loud, magisterial tones, which commanded the
attention of the whole compartment. The young man seemed startled.
Bertie was startled; he almost thought he saw the _Globe_ tremble in
the captain's hands.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Have you seen about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels?"
This was said in tones rather louder and more magisterial than at
first.
"No! No! I haven't!"
"Then, sir, I say it's a disgrace to the country."
Whether it was a disgrace to the country that the thin young man had
not heard about the Countess of Ferndale's jewels was not quite clear.
The thin young man seemed to think it was, for he turned pink.
However, the old gentleman went on,--
"Here's a noble lady, the wife of one of the greatest English peers,
returning from personal attendance upon her sovereign, bearing with
her jewels of almost priceless value, and they disappear from
underneath her nose. I say it's a disgrace to the country, sir!"
The thin young man seemed relieved. It was evidently not his want of
knowledge which was a disgrace to the country, but the disappearance
of the lady's jewels. Bertie pricked up his ears; the captain gave no
sign of having heard.
The young man ventured on a question.
"How's that? Have they been stolen?"
"How's that, sir! Stolen, sir! I should think they have been stolen!"
The words were spoken with almost volcanic force. All the carriage
began to take an interest in what was being said--excepting always
"Uncle Tom."
The old gentleman grasped his paper with his right hand, and
emphasized his words with the first finger of his left.
"At half-past two this afternoon the Countess of Ferndale, who
has been in attendance at Windsor Castle, started from Windsor
to London. Windsor, sir, is at a distance of twenty-two miles from
town--twenty-two miles; no more. The traffic between that place and
London, sir, is extremely large; and yet, travelling on that short
strip of railway, in one of Her Majesty's own state coaches----"
"I don't think it was in one of the Queen's own coaches she was
travelling."
"No; it wasn't."
The first interruption came from the severe-looking gentleman who had
lent the Captain the _Globe_; the second from a placid-looking
gentleman with black whiskers, who sat beside him in front of Bertie.
"Well, sir, and what difference does that make?"
"None at all, perhaps, to the main issue," the severe gentleman
allowed. "It's only a statement of fact."
"Well, sir, supposing it is a statement of fact, which, as at present
advised, I am not prepared to allow, I suppose I may take it for
granted that she was travelling in a compartment which was exclusively
reserved for her own use?"
"That, I believe, was the case."
"Well, sir, travelling on that short strip of railway, in a
compartment exclusively reserved for her own use, what happens in this
England of the nineteenth century? It is incredible! monstrous! She
had with her certain family jewels of almost priceless value. She had
been wearing them in Her Majesty's own presence. They were in the
charge of certain officers of her household; and yet, when she comes
to the end of that journey of two and twenty miles, they were gone,
sir!--gone! vanished into air!"
"No! If they were stolen, he must have been a jolly clever thief,"
observed the thin young man.
"A jolly clever thief!" said, or rather roared the stout old
gentleman. "You speak of the author of such an outrage as a jolly
clever thief. If I had the miscreant within reach of my hand"--the
stout old gentleman stretched out his hand, and the thin young man
shrank out of the way--"I should consider myself justified in striking
him down, and trampling the life out of his wretched carcass. I should
consider the doer of such an act deserved well of his country, sir!"
Bertie felt a cold shiver go down his back. He pictured the stout old
gentleman striking him down, and trampling the life out of his
wretched carcass. At that moment he almost felt as though he had been
guilty of the crime; he almost expected the stout old gentleman to
read his guilt upon his countenance, and conclude the business there
and then. As for the captain--the least that Bertie expected him to do
was to open the door and, without waiting for such a small detail
as the stopping of the train, disappear into the night. What he
actually did was to return the _Globe_, with a courteous bow, to the
severe-looking gentleman, carefully cross his knees, and light a
fresh cigar. Then he listened to what was being said with an air of
placid interest.
"What was the value of the jewels?" inquired the gentleman with the
black whiskers.
"Priceless! priceless! How can you value jewels which have been in the
possession of a noble family for generations? which are family
heirlooms?"
"I suppose they must be pretty well known, in which case the thieves
will find considerable difficulty in getting rid of their spoil."
"Getting rid of their spoil! Is it conceivable that such villains are
to be allowed to get rid of their spoil, to sell it, and fatten on the
proceeds?"
"Very conceivable, indeed, unless something is done to stop them."
The stout old gentleman was so affected by the idea of the countess's
jewels being brought into the market in such an ignoble way that words
failed him, and he gasped for breath.
During all this time Bertie's sensations were indescribable. He felt
as though he were under the power of some hideous spell. He would have
given anything to have been able to spring up and denounce the
miscreant who had wrought this crime. There would have been something
worthy of a hero in that; but he could not do it, he was spellbound.
Perhaps the consciousness of the revolver which was in the captain's
pocket had something to do with his state of mind; but it was not only
that, he was paralysed by the position itself--by the knowledge that
his own act had made him the companion of such a rogue.
Just at the moment the captain raised his hand, as if by chance, and
tapped the inner pocket of his coat. Slight though the action was,
Bertie saw it, and he shuddered. But there was worse to follow.
The remark was made by the severe-looking gentleman.
"What strikes me is, how was the theft performed? Those in charge of
the box swear that it was never out of their sight. When they started
the jewels were in it; when they reached their journey's end they were
gone. They couldn't have been spirited away."
"The boxes were changed."
Bertie felt that his heart had ceased to beat. The words were spoken
by "Uncle Tom."
It was the first time he had opened his lips. The eyes of all in the
carriage were fixed upon him. He was seated, apparently quite at his
ease, a cigar in his mouth, one hand upon his knee, and, as he spoke,
with the other he undid the top button of his overcoat.
"How could they be changed? Those in charge state that they never lost
sight of the particular box in which the jewels were."
The captain took his cigar out of his mouth, and puffed out a wreath
of smoke.
"I have a theory of my own upon the subject."
"And I say it is monstrous! preposterous! incredible! Do you mean to
tell me such a trick as that could have been played in the light of
day?"
This was from the stout old gentleman.
"Apparently it was done in the light of day, however it was done. I
have only suggested a theory. Of course you are at liberty to accept
it or reject it, as you please."
"I do reject it entirely! absolutely! I am sixty-seven next June, and
I know perfectly well that no such trick would be played on me."
"You are, probably, a person of peculiar acumen."
But the stout old gentleman was not to be flattered.
"As you have a theory of how the robbery was performed, perhaps you
have a theory of how the robbers might be caught."
"I have one or two theories. I could go further and say that, if it
were made worth my while, I would engage to find the thieves."
"Made worth your while, sir! Isn't it worth every honest man's while
to find a thief?"
"Not necessarily. Take your own case. Would you be prepared to find
the thieves?"
"If I knew where they were."
"Precisely; that is just the point. What you mean is, that if they
were found you would give them into custody, but you have to find them
first. People don't go thief-hunting from motives of pure
philanthropy; even a policeman requires you to make it worth his
while."
"May I ask if you are an amateur detective?" inquired the
severe-looking gentleman.
"I shouldn't call myself quite that," said "Uncle Tom."
"But you have evidently had considerable experience in dealing with
crime?"
"It has been the study of my life," said "Uncle Tom."
"I suppose that it is a very interesting study?"
"Very interesting indeed."
"If it is not an impertinent question, may I ask whether it has been
your own experience that such a study improves the moral nature of a
man?"
"Quite the reverse," said "Uncle Tom."
"You are frank."
"What is life unless you are?" asked "Uncle Tom."
The captain laughed; but Bertie was in agony The train began to slow.
"I think this is Southampton," said the thin young man.
And it was.