Mrs Bankes looked up at the speaker with ashen cheeks.
"Your prisoner? What do you mean? Who are you?"
"You know very well who I am, though, since you ask, I don't mind
telling you that I'm a detective officer of police, named Macarthy,
which, no doubt, is all quite news to you. How comes it that you
weren't so nimble on your pins as those friends of yours?"
"Friends of mine?"
"They are friends of yours, I take it. You're a regular happy family,
aren't you? And a nice little lot you seem to be. You, at anyrate,
will be separated from them for a time. Hold out your hands."
He did not wait for her to hold out her hands, he held them out for
her. In an instant handcuffs were girdling her dainty wrists. This did
seem to be the most terrible catastrophe of all, that she, Edith
Bankes, should be arrested at Christmas-time, as a common thief, and
handcuffed!
"You are making a horrible mistake, I am not the person you take me
for."
"I don't see how you can make that out, since I haven't said who I do
take you for as yet. Of course you can cheek it out if you like, but
don't you think it would seem too thin? Do you expect us to believe
that only ladies of first-class character are to be found in a house
like this--the foulest den in London?"
"I assure you, officer, that it is only owing to the most
extraordinary misapprehension."
"Of course--not a doubt of it; it always is like that. Take my advice
and keep a still tongue--anything you say 'll be used against you.
Sorry to have to use the bracelets, we don't generally, with a lady,
but, in a place like this, we take no chances. Jones, take her off,
and let Wright go with you. I'm going over this place, and then I'll
come straight on."
"But I implore you to listen to me. I am Mrs Bankes--"
"Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Bankes; hope to see you again a little
later on. Now off you go; don't be silly. You don't want us to carry
you, I suppose--it might spoil your pretty clothes!"
He gave her what was meant as a good-natured push; but to her,
unaccustomed to come into physical contact with policemen, it was as
if the heavens were falling. A younger man took her by the arm.
"Now then. Downstairs!"
She went downstairs, the officer gripping her firmly. The house seemed
full of men. In the street were half a dozen more. Her companion
called one of them to her. Presently she found herself walking between
two constables, each having hold of an arm, handcuffed, to the station
house. And even then she was unable to adequately realise the
situation. It did seem incredible that she, a woman of position, the
wife of a man of reputation, could be hauled off to jail without even
knowing with what crime she was charged. She made still another effort
to induce her captors to hear reason.
"I do assure you that you are making a dreadful mistake. I am Mrs
Bankes--"
Sergeant Jones interrupted her.
"All right, you've said that before. We've been ordered to take you to
the station, and if you're a duchess it makes no difference to us,
we're going to take you. You can explain all about it when you're
there."
What was the use of attempting to argue with such impossible
creatures? Fate was hard on her. Her heart was sinking down into her
shoes. Was she actually to spend a night in a police cell, after
undergoing goodness only knew what indignities? What an inauguration
of the Christmas season? What would be her husband's feelings? What
would her relations think? What would her acquaintances say? What a
tale to be told against her throughout the whole remainder of her
life! The horror of it all!
As they passed out of the narrow street in which stood that house of
ill omen, just as they had turned the corner, six or seven figures
appeared out of the darkness, and without uttering a sound, or word of
warning, precipitated themselves upon the advancing trio. Before Mrs
Bankes had an inkling of their purpose she found herself being torn
from the clutches of her captors, each of whom, with what seemed to be
a cloth thrown over his head, was being dragged backward on to the
ground. In what appeared little more than an instant she was freed at
the expense of her arms being torn nearly out of their sockets, and
was being hurried along the pavement under the guidance of a tall
individual in a long dark overcoat, who continually urged her, by word
and action, to use her utmost speed.
"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" she managed to articulate. Her
conductor's reply was not entirely satisfactory.
"Move yourself. It's all right, coast's clear, only don't stop
talking. I've got a cab round the corner, this way."
He whirled her round into an alley which she would hardly have noticed
if it had not been for him. In the dim light a hansom stood waiting.
He lifted her in without a with-your-leave or by-your-leave, sprang in
after her, and in a moment the horse, urged by its driver, tore off at
the top of its speed. So soon as they had started the man at her side
broke into a peal of laughter, which, despite its heartiness, had
about it a peculiar quality of silence, beginning at the same time to
talk with surprising volubility.
"Neat, wasn't it? Did you ever see anything neater? I fancy I scored
off those infernal coppers that time, what do you think? I heard you
were going to be raided, in fact I saw them starting, so I whipped up
a few trusty pals, boys who wouldn't stick at a trifle, and I've got
you away from them at any rate; it'll be your own fault, my dear, if,
after this, you're buckled again. I should like to see Macarthy's face
when he hears what's happened to those chaps of his. Aren't you very
much obliged to me?"
Edith was not by any means certain. She ventured on an inquiry.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Captain Jim."
"Captain Jim?"
"Yes, you must be a raw hand if you've never heard of Captain Jim.
Why, it's only a week or two since I came out from doing my last five
years, and I've made things move since I've been out, I tell you. A
word to the wise--I've got the biggest thing in my eye ever you heard
of. Some of that lot in your gang have got grit, that I do know, and
if you're the sort of girl I take you for, you're just the one I
want--we'll bring it off between us, just me and you together. What do
you say to that?"
"Thank you, but I--I'm afraid you've made a mistake--"
"Oh, blow your mistakes, I don't believe it! You wouldn't have been
where you were if you hadn't got the right stuff in you. Let me take
those darbies off, they can't feel comfortable on those nice little
wrists of yours; darn their eyes for putting them on you."
The handcuffs did gall her. She offered no objection to his removing
them with the aid of a key which he took from his pocket. When they
were off he tossed them up into the air, catching them as they came
down.
"You beauties! you've buckled many a good man; wouldn't I like to
buckle a copper with you for a change? I'd make him look funny!"
The cab had been dashing along without any diminution of speed. It
turned round still another corner. Captain Jim looked out. "Keep your
eyes skinned. My place is along here. Bill--that's the cabman, he's a
pal of mine--don't want to stop any longer than he can help, for fear
of being spotted,--you never know who's looking; so when I give the
word jump out like lightning."
"But I want to explain to you--"
"Stow your explanations till we get inside. Then you and me'll have a
good old palaver. Now then."
The cab drew up. Somehow, she herself scarcely knew how, Edith found
herself standing on the pavement with Captain Jim. Almost before she
felt the ground beneath her feet the cab was off.
"Pretty smart that. Bill can move when he wants to, trust him to get
the right sort of cattle. Now then, here we are at home." He turned
towards the house behind them. She made a further attempt at
expostulation--but she was too far gone to do so with effect.
"It's all a mistake, I want to tell you it's all a mistake."
"Tell me all about it when we get inside. You're not up to the mark, I
can see. A pick-me-up will put you to rights."
He had been opening the door with a latchkey while he had been
speaking. He hustled her through it, in spite of her feeble effort at
resistance, leading the way into an apartment which appeared to be
used as a sitting-room. The man looked round with an air of pride.
"Not a bad kind of crib, is it? And I have got a bedroom what is
better than this,--you trust me to get the proper sort of place.
There's some as would give a hundred pounds, and more, to find me in
here--but they've got to find someone who'll give them the office. I
don't think you will, what do you think? By George, you're a ripper!
You look like glass, you do, I'd no idea you were such a beauty. Why,
you'd look well in any company, I know what I'm talking about, I do.
You mark my words! I'm going in for a clean hundred thousand pounds,
and I'm going to touch it too, and you're the very sort I want to come
in with me. We'll go shares, fifty thousand pounds a-piece! What do
you say to that? You wait a minute, and I'll tell you all about it, I
want to say a word to my old landlady."
He left the room. She was afraid that he would lock the door behind
him, but he was evidently too wholly unsuspicious of the true state of
the case to think of doing anything of the kind. In a moment her
resolution was formed, with such strength as was left to her. She
waited till she heard that his footsteps had receded along the
passage. Then she too stole from the room. She crept along the passage
with as little noise as possible. She reached the front door. The hall
was in darkness; she fumbled with the latch, the sound reaching the
keen ears of Captain Jim.
"What's that? Who's there?"
She found the handle; the door was open. Captain Jim came running
along the passage. But with all his haste, he was too late. She was
through the door, half a dozen paces away. The street was a mean one,
dark and deserted. But, some hundred yards off, there was the gleam of
lights, the roar of traffic, and evidently close at hand was some
big thoroughfare. If she could only reach it she might be safe.
Despair--the consciousness that it was now or never--lent her wings.
She ran as she had never run before. Yet the man behind her ran faster
still. She knew he gained. Another effort--still she might be at the
corner first. As she reached it, he caught her by the shoulder. His
voice was hoarse with rage.
"What the devil does this mean? What little game do you think you're
up to?"
"Help! Help!" she screamed.
Just as the man was beginning to draw her back into the side street
someone came hurrying towards her across the pavement. Someone, who,
without the slightest hesitation, struck Captain Jim full in the face,
with such force and such science, that that gentleman went down like a
ninepin.
"You villain!" exclaimed a voice--which sounded to the girl like a
voice from heaven. "What are you doing to this lady?"
"Frank!" she cried.
"Edith? Great heavens! is it you?"
In another moment the wife was crying in her husband's arms.
"Oh, Frank, take me away, before they kill me."
Captain Jim had regained his feet. He seemed disposed to
bluster--though evidently not completely at his ease.
"What did you hit me for? Who do you think you're knocking about? What
do you mean by interfering between my wife and me?"
"Your wife--you hound? Think yourself lucky if I let you go. Say
another word and I'll call that constable, and give you into custody."
As it chanced, at that moment a policeman was seen approaching. At
sight of him, Captain Jim, apparently completely at a loss to
understand the situation, slunk off, muttering curses beneath his
breath. Mr Bankes hailed a passing hansom. When he got into it he
found that his wife had fainted.