"There's a person below inquiring for your excellency," said Colonel
Middleton's foreign servant, entering the sitting-room where his
master sat writing a note.
"Who is he, Carlini?" asked the young officer, looking up; "is it the
same man who was here before?"
"No, sir," replied the servant. "This is a taller, stouter man,
dressed somewhat like the other. He says you know him, and that his
name is Joshua Brown."
"Oh, show him up--show him up," said Colonel Middleton; "I will see
him by all means."
The servant retired, and in a moment or two returned with our good
friend the pedlar. But Joshua Brown's face, upon the present occasion,
bore an expression which, in the course of their short acquaintance,
Colonel Middleton had never seen it assume. It was a sort of
hesitating, undecided expression, very different from the frank and
easy, though unpresuming, manner which he generally displayed in
addressing persons whom he looked upon as his superiors.
Henry remarked it; but at the same time he treated the man exactly as
he would otherwise have done, saying--
"Sit down, Brown: I am very glad to see you. Have you brought me any
information?"
"A little, sir," replied the pedlar; "but I am sorry to say it is not
all good. About the pocket-book----"
"Oh, never mind the pocket-book for the present," said Colonel
Middleton; "that is of very little consequence, compared with the
certificate."
"I am glad to hear you say so, sir," answered the pedlar: "I hope you
may think so still, when I've told you all. As to the certificate,
there it is. I thought I should know my way back. I don't forget very
easily; and I walked yesterday, straight as a line, to the place where
I thought it was to be found. The old clerk's dead, and a dapper young
fellow in his place, who found it out in a minute. You owe me
half-a-crown, sir, for that."
"A great deal more," said Colonel Middleton, his eyes fixed
thoughtfully upon the paper. "St. Mary's, Westfield," he continued,
reading aloud: "how far is that from town?"
"About sixteen miles, sir," replied the man. "Is that the gentleman's
name you expected to find?"
"Exactly," replied Henry, placing the paper in his writing-desk: "it
only confirms what I knew before."
"Humph!" said the pedlar, in a very peculiar tone; but he added
something more, and Henry, looking up, said--
"Now for the pocket-book, my good friend."
"Why, I suppose you guess, sir, by this time, that I have not got it,"
replied the pedlar; "and I am sorry to say we shall never get it now."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Colonel Middleton, in a tone of surprise and
disappointment. "How has that happened? Have they destroyed it?"
"They have, sir," said Joshua Brown, "and that in my presence, too;"
and he looked in the face of Colonel Middleton with a keen and
inquisitive expression, as if seeking to form a judgment, from what he
there beheld, regarding some doubtful questions in his own mind.
"That is unpleasant," said Colonel Middleton, in a grave but ordinary,
matter-of-fact tone, as if he had lost in the pocket-book the value of
a thousand pounds or more.
Now, let the reader remark and remember, that a man's face and manners
bear a very different expression when he has lost something very
valuable, which he regrets much and would give a great deal to
recover, and when something has occurred which generates apprehension.
The passions are different, and so are their effects. In one instance
they have reference to the past, and in the other reference to the
future; and nothing can be more different than the looks of regret and
fear.
Now, all that Colonel Middleton felt or seemed to feel was regret.
"Well, tell me how it all happened," he said. "Curious, that they
should burn it in your presence, when they had the certainty of
getting a considerable sum of money for it."
Joshua Brown set to work to convince him that nothing in the world
could be more natural; but he did not altogether succeed.
"I am afraid," said Colonel Middleton, "that these good gentry must
have discovered that there was something very important to me in that
pocket-book; but why they should burn it I cannot conceive."
It was curious to remark the changes of expression which came over the
plain and almost harsh features of the pedlar, during his conversation
with Colonel Middleton; and certainly, if the face is in any degree
the index of the mind, he underwent more changes of emotion that day
than were at all customary with him. A look almost of anxiety now came
into his face as he answered--
"I am afraid, sir, that they had found out how important the
pocket-book was to you, and had arranged all their plans to make what
they call a good job out of it. Nevertheless, I don't think that they
were quite clear as to all the little particulars, so that, perhaps,
they can't do as much mischief as they would."
Colonel Middleton paused in thought for a moment, and then said, with
a grave look--
"As far as I can remember, the contents of that book were quite
sufficient to afford them the means of discovering the whole
particulars of a transaction long past, which I do not wish to revive.
But what could make them destroy the pocket-book I cannot conceive;
for the contents must have induced them to believe that its
preservation would be much more profitable to them than its
destruction."
"I'm afraid, sir," replied the pedlar, frankly, "that I did not
altogether manage the matter for you well. You see, sir, I was
ignorant of the circumstances. You had told me how much you would
give, and I did not like to offer more, especially when the rascal who
had got the book tried to exact more by threats."
"By threats, did he?" said Colonel Middleton. "How much did you offer,
my good friend?"
"I offered a hundred pounds, sir, as you said; and, to make them think
that I had no interest in the matter, I pretended to require something
for myself out of the money. There was my mistake, I think."
"Oh, no," replied Henry, with a degree of indifference which surprised
the pedlar very much; "I think you did quite right. I would not have
given more than a hundred pounds. That was quite enough."
"Then the blackguard must have been making a great mistake," said
Joshua Brown, with a relieved look; "for he seemed quite sure that you
would give a great deal more, and said there was that in the
pocket-book which might hang you or save you."
"And you half believed him, my good friend," replied the young
officer, looking at him with a smile, while the colour mounted up in
the pedlar's brown cheek. "But if you had considered one moment,
Brown, you would have seen that, had that book contained, as the
ruffian said, the means of hanging me, he would never have thought of
destroying documents that gave him such a power over me. No: to be
plain with you, the book did contain full and satisfactory proofs of
my innocence of an act once imputed to me. By destroying them the
villain did me a great disservice; but, thank God, they are not the
only proofs, and those that still exist I trust will be sufficient."
"Well, sir," said Brown, "I am sorry I attended to the man at all;
and, if I had but thought a bit, as you say, I must have seen that his
conduct and his words were not consistent. However, what made him burn
the pocket-book was the sight of a constable walking up and down
before the house. The two scoundrels chose to think that I had brought
him there, and that as soon as I had got the book I should give them
into custody; so away it went into the fire in a minute, and I could
not get it out, for they were two to one; and though Master Mingy
Bowes is a little one, his comrade is worth two of me at any time."
"So, one is a little man?" said Colonel Middleton, thoughtfully. "Try
and describe him to me. Yet, stay a minute," and ringing the bell, he
ordered the waiter to send his servant. As soon as Carlini had entered
the room, Colonel Middleton said, "Now go on, Mr. Brown. I merely
wished my servant to hear your description of this good gentleman. You
mark it, Carlini, and let me know whether it seems to be the same
person who was here this morning."
The pedlar, who, as I have before shown, was a very minute and
accurate observer, proceeded to give a full and particular account of
the personal appearance of Mr. Mingy Bowes, while the Italian stood by
and listened, bending his head gravely and approvingly, from time to
time, as the other proceeded. When at length Joshua Brown paused,
Carlini turned to his master, saying--
"The same, sir, exactly;" and then at a sign retired.
"Now then, Brown, who is this person?" demanded Colonel Middleton;
"for it seems he is not the person who actually had the pocket-book."
"No, sir; he's the 'fence,'" replied the pedlar; "that's to say, the
receiver; and it was at his house I saw the other man, whose name I do
not know, any more than that it is Sam."
"Well, this man called here to-day," said Colonel Middleton; "and I
suppose the object now is to extort money from me by threats."
"Don't you doubt it, sir," said Joshua Brown. "That's a game which is
always playing in London; and those horse-leeches, as soon as once
they are fixed, never let go till they have drained every drop of
blood out of a man's body. There are many thousands of them in this
city who live by nothing else. Many a man they break down in health,
as well as in fortune and happiness, and many another they drive to
commit suicide."
"Weak and pitiful must their victims be," said Colonel Middleton,
somewhat contemptuously; "for none but a mere slave to fear would
yield to threats which, he must know, would necessarily go on
increasing in virulence."
"I'm not quite sure of that, sir," replied the pedlar. "All men have
their weaknesses, and I believe all men have their timid side. It is a
part of the trade of such fellows as these to find out where a man is
likely to be afraid, and hunt him down upon that. I have known many a
very brave man who would have fought anybody or anything, but who
could not face an accusation."
Colonel Middleton meditated for a moment or two, and then replied--
"These scoundrels will find themselves very much mistaken, if they
fancy that such fears will influence me."
"I think they will, sir," replied the pedlar; "but I would advise you
to be careful what you do with them, for I think a cunninger thief was
never known than that same Mingy Bowes; and if he cannot manage one
way, depend upon it he'll try another."
"Without success," answered Henry. "But now, my good friend, as to you
I am considerably indebted for many services, I would fain settle that
account before we part, that you may not think me ungrateful."
"Oh, sir, I have no claim to make," replied the pedlar: "I am very
glad to have served you, and the loss of time has not been much. I
should like, however, to know how this other business goes on, and I
should not be sorry to see Master Mingy Bowes myself, and talk to him
a bit upon what he's about; for I might give you some sort of hint
that would be serviceable."
Henry Hayley seemed to think for a moment over the proposal before he
answered; but at length he replied--
"Well, be that as you like. It can do no harm, and might perchance do
some good. I suppose that, beyond all doubt, one or both of the two
villains will be here ere long again, and if you were to remain at the
hotel, and meet them unexpectedly when they come, they might feel not
very pleasantly surprised. My servant shall take care of you, if you
like to stay. As for myself, I shall away at once to St. Mary's,
Westfield."
The pedlar smiled.
"I will tell you what, sir," he said: "you may want me in that
business too, before long; and so, when I go away from here, I shall
tell your servant where I am to be found when needed."
"I do not think you can be of any more service to me there than you
have been already," replied Henry; "but, nevertheless, I shall be very
glad of your address."
"We shall see, sir; we shall see," said the pedlar. "Don't think me
impertinent; but I know something of almost everything under the sun,
and more of this matter than a great many."
"Indeed!" said Henry; "pray tell me how that may be."
"No, no, sir," answered the pedlar; "not just yet. I'll only ask one
favour of you, which is, that you will always let me know where you
are to be found for the next six weeks, and I'll do the same by you."
Henry laughed, saying--
"Well, my good friend, I will agree to the compact, though it is
somewhat unequal.--Carlini," he continued, speaking to his servant,
who entered with a note, "take care of this good gentleman, who has
been of great service to me lately; and if that person returns who was
inquiring: for me this morning, let Mr. Brown deal with him, as he
knows something of him."
"Yes, your excellency," replied the valet; "but Lady Anne's servant is
waiting for an answer."
Henry unfolded the letter and read.
"I will go directly," he replied. "Send a chaise after me, Carlini, to
Lady Anne's. I shall not be home to dinner--most likely not till
eight, but certainly by that time. In the mean time, take care of Mr.
Brown."
Thus saying, he retired for a moment into his bed-room, returned with
his hat and some papers in his hand, and set out at once, leaving his
servant and the pedlar together.