The more they thought about the whole strange, mysterious business, the
more was it apparent that they were face to face with plain
matter-of-fact. It was now obvious that the written message was nothing
more than the memorandum of an address. Every Londoner knows the
Edgware Road. Stork, however, or perhaps Rosencrantz or von Essling,
the German military attache, had thought it advisable to write it down,
and that in such a manner that it would be extremely improbable that any
one else could read it.
Captain Crouch was once again upon his feet, limping backwards and
forwards from one end of the room to the other, talking in a quick,
excited voice, and flinging his arms about him like a windmill.
"We must go to London at once," he cried. And at that, he hastened from
the room, to find the whole hotel in complete darkness. The "Goat and
Compasses" kept late hours as a rule; but it was now two o'clock in the
morning, and everyone had long since gone to bed. Crouch found his
bedroom candle and lit it, and with the aid of this searched the
smoking-room for a South-Western Railway time-table, a copy of which he
at length succeeded in finding. Licking the end of his second finger,
he turned over the pages so rapidly that he tore several in half.
"Here we are!" he cried. "There's a workmen's train at three-fifteen.
We'll catch that, and be in London before daybreak."
Crouch woke up the proprietor in order to pay his bill, concerning which
neither was much inclined to argue, the one being too sleepy and the
other in too great haste even to count his change. They had little in
the way of luggage, and Crouch had been well supplied with money by Mr.
Jason, who was determined that Jimmy Burke should want for nothing.
Accordingly, in little more than an hour after they had discovered that
Stork's message was nothing more or less than a simple acrostic cypher,
they were speeding to London at the rate of forty miles an hour, both
sound asleep on the comfortable cushions in a first-class railway
carriage.
Crouch had his own rooms in Pimlico, where he had constituted his
headquarters--so to speak--and where he rented two rooms, divided one
from the other by folding doors. In one was a camp-bed and a veritable
armoury of big-game rifles and shotguns; whereas the other, which he
called the dining-room, contained a table, a few basket chairs, and many
kinds of curios from all parts of the world. The walls of both rooms
were adorned with the heads and antlers of many rare animals: waterbuck
and koodoo, white and black leopards, jaguars, tigers and lions.
Thither, on a cold, dark, wintry morning, Crouch and his young companion
hastened immediately on their arrival at Waterloo, chartering the only
taxi that was to be found at that early hour.
First, it was necessary to have breakfast, during which Crouch explained
that it would be certainly advisable for them to disguise themselves.
In all probability, Stork would repair to the house in the Edgware Road,
and it would never do for them to be recognized. They had the whole
morning at their disposal, and it must be admitted that the precautions
that the little sea-captain deemed it expedient to take bordered on the
ludicrous.
For himself he purchased an extremely vulgar-looking shepherd's plaid
suit, a flaming red tie, and a white bowler hat which he set jauntily on
the side of his head at a very acute angle.
As for Jimmy, it has been stated that he was a fair boy, with light
brown hair. That was now dyed completely black. A similar darkening of
the eyebrows, carried out by an expert in the art of "making up,"
completed the boy's disguise, to the complete satisfaction of Captain
Crouch and the delight of Jimmy himself.
"My lad," said Crouch, "I'd lay a sheet-anchor to a safety-pin your best
friend wouldn't know you now. As for me, I'll go so far as to shave off
my moustache and beard."
A little after, he entered a barber's shop, and having fulfilled his
promise, looked, without his moustache and small imperial beard, even
more formidable than ever. His great, square, protruding chin suggested
a determined and aggressive nature; whereas his thin, tightly compressed
lips proved convincingly enough that here was a man who could not be
trifled with.
They lunched together in a fashionable restaurant in the West End, where
Crouch, in the strange and wonderful costume, was evidently under the
impression that he was cutting a dash. Thence, arm-in-arm, they sallied
forth up Regent Street and along Oxford Street, in the direction of the
Edgware Road, entering a gunsmith's on the way and purchasing a brace of
revolvers and a score of rounds of ammunition.
They found Number 758 to be a large block of unoccupied flats. Crouch
stationed himself on the opposite side of-the road, and regarded the
building for some time in silence.
"There's one thing about the place which is suspicious," he observed.
"Do you notice that every one of those flats is unoccupied, with the
exception of one on the first floor? On the ground floor are shop
premises, also 'To let.' Now, when you come to think of it, that is a
very remarkable thing. This is a popular and central part of London,
and one moreover in which rents are fairly moderate. Also, the agent's
notice on the ground floor has, by the look of it, been there for
months. Come, my boy, we'll look into the matter. But have your
revolver ready in case of an emergency, don't hesitate to use it, and
take your lead from me."
So saying, the little captain stepped across the street, and rang the
bell of Number 758, Edgware Road.
They did not have to wait long before the door was opened by an old
woman with a shawl about her shoulders, who asked who they were in an
exceedingly squeaky voice.
"Are you Mr. Russell?" she piped, the moment she set eyes upon Captain
Crouch.
Crouch thought for a moment before he answered.
"I won't say I'm not," said he; "on the other hand, I won't go so far as
to say I am. The main question is, who are you?"
"I'm Mrs. Wycherley," said the old woman, "her that looks after the
flat. And if you're Mr. Russell, the rooms are well aired and the fires
was a-lighted this morning."
"Ha!" said Crouch. "That's just as it should be. I and my friend will
go upstairs."
At that, without a moment's hesitation, he brushed past the old woman
and ascended the stairs to the first floor, whither Mrs. Wycherley
followed him, muttering a great deal to herself on the subject of "the
rheumatics."
"Where's the key?" demanded Crouch.
There was an air of self-assurance about him that would have deceived a
Russian diplomat, to say nothing of a London charwoman of about seventy
years of age. Mrs. Wycherley, producing the key, flung open the door of
one of the first-floor flats and ushered in both Jimmy Burke and Captain
Crouch.
They found themselves in a small self-contained flat, consisting of
three rooms and a kitchen. These rooms were not only tastefully, but
even expensively, furnished; whereas the kitchen was complete as far as
furniture and cooking utensils were concerned.
Crouch had a good look round, and then, producing his blackened briar
pipe, seated himself in the most comfortable armchair in the
dining-room, and proceeded to smoke at his leisure. Both Jimmy and the
charwoman remained standing.
"There are a few points," said Crouch, fixing the old lady with the
mouthpiece of his pipe, in much the same way as a man would point a
pistol, "there are one or two things I would like to know."
"Begging your pardon, sir," said the woman, "if you're a friend of Mr.
Russell's, and Mr. Russell knows you're here, well and good. But if you
ain't, might I make so free as to ask your business, because my
daughter, Emily Jane, lies a-dying, and that's as true as I'm standing
here, and it's no time for me to be gossiping with gents with white
hats, nor black neither."
She had spoken exceedingly fast, from time to time lifting her voice to
a higher key, until at last she pulled up short, apparently for want of
breath, having reached the topmost note she was capable of producing.
"Mum," said Crouch, "don't you get fidgety. I'm an honest man, though a
dog-breeder by profession. As for Russell, he knows me well enough, or
he was never a ship's carpenter that cut off in a dinghy with the ship's
cook and the cook's mate. So you may set your mind at rest."
Old Mrs. Wycherley, who had not the least idea as to what Crouch was
talking about, folded her arms, and nodded her head as in approval.
"If you're a friend of Mr. Russell's," said she, "I'm sure it's all
right. Perhaps you don't know, sir, that I'm expecting him here this
evening."
"Is that so?" said Crouch. "I'm glad to hear it."
"Maybe you'll stay," said the old woman, "until Mr. Russell arrives?"
"I will that," said Crouch, feeling in his coat pocket for his revolver.
Then, in a changed voice, he remarked, "These are fairly comfortable
rooms."
"Comfortable!" exclaimed the old woman. "Fit for a king, I calls them.
And that clean you could eat your dinner off of the carpet, as no one
knows better than me who've worked day and night as I'm a living woman."
"When did Mr. Russell leave?" asked Crouch.
"Leave! Why he ain't never come since the flat was took."
"And when was that?"
"On the fourth of August, sir. My memory ain't of the best, and I only
recollect the date because it was on that day, sir, that this here
'orrible war broke out. The fourth of August was the date, or I ain't
never been married, which I've lived to repent ever since the very
moment the ring was put on me finger."
Crouch sat silent for a moment, mersed in thought, filling the room with
clouds of his evil-smelling tobacco smoke.
"How is it," he asked at length, "that none of the other flats in the
building have been taken?"
"There's no knowing," said the old woman. "But the fact is, that since
August no one, saving yourself, ain't been near the place."
Crouch drew a whistle and looked across at Jimmy; then, once more, he
turned to Mrs. Wycherley.
"And what about Emily Jane?" he asked.
"She was took bad three weeks ago, and ain't left her bed for a
fortnight. And it's my solemn belief as all her blood's turned to
water."
Whereupon, as the old woman showed signs of tears, Crouch thought it
advisable to change the subject; which he did with great dexterity.
"How do you know," he asked, "that Mr. Russell arrives this evening?"
"Because Mr. Valentine rung me up on the telegraph, and said as I was to
have the rooms ready by eight o'clock this evening."
"And who is Mr. Valentine?"
"Don't know no more than you, sir, except that he's the gent what took
the rooms in August, as I'm a-telling you."
"Well, then," said Crouch, "I don't think you need trouble to stay. You
can go back to Emily Jane. I and my friend will remain here until Mr.
Russell arrives. We'll keep the fire alight, and make ourselves at
home."
Mrs. Wycherley, who a moment since had been on the verge of tears,
gathered her shawl about her shoulders, and beamed upon Captain Crouch.
"And it may be," said the little captain, "that Emily Jane will be none
the worse for a few comforts, such as beef-tea and a jelly. On your way
home, you might be able to get her something with that."
So saying, he banged down a sovereign on the table, which Mrs. Wycherley
was not slow to accept.
"Then with your permission," said she, "I think I'll just be stepping
round."
With that, and with a curtsey, she was off, with much more alacrity than
she had shown before.