Transcriber's Notes
1. Typographical errors & hyphenation inconsistencies were silently
corrected.
2. The text version is coded for italics and other mark-ups i.e.,
(a) Italics are indicated thus _italic_;
(b) Smallcaps thus +CAPS+; and
(c) Images are indicated as [Illustration];
3. The Table of Contents was added by the transcriber.
4. 'CHAPTER XV' comes after 'The Silver Gauntlet' in the original.
* * * * *
DANGEROUS DILEMMAS:
STARTLING BUT TRUE.
BY
JAMES PEDDIE,
AUTHOR OF
"SECRETS OF A PRIVATE ENQUIRY OFFICE,"
ETC., ETC., ETC.
[Illustration]
LONDON:
CHARLES H. CLARKE, 11 RED LION COURT,
FLEET-STREET.
Perth:
S. COWAN AND CO., STRATHMORE PRINTING WORKS.
CONTENTS
Transcriber's Notes
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter Page
DANGEROUS DILEMMAS.
I. THE ORIGIN OF "DANGEROUS DILEMMAS." 3
II. THE CHRISTMAS WINE-HAMPER FRAUD. 10
III. MY FIRST AND ONLY APPEARANCE AS AN AUCTIONEER. 14
IV. THE TWO MYSTERIOUS DOMINOS. 20
V. THE FIFTEEN POSTAGE-STAMP PUZZLE. 27
VI. A HEAD DEFEAT; AN ATTEMPT TO WIN THE CAMBRIDGESHIRE. 33
VII. THE STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE AND STRANGER RECOVERY OF THE
COUNTESS'S DIAMONDS. 42
VIII. CREMORNE: A ROMANCE OF THE DERBY. 46
IX. HOW TO SATISFY ONE'S CREDITORS WITH WASTE PAPER. 52
X. LORD SEAMORD'S FALSE FUNERAL. 57
XI. TAKING A MEAN ADVANTAGE OF A FIRE. 64
XII. THE ATTEMPTED MURDER IN THE AIR. 69
XIII. MY TWO MATCHES, OR WATERLOO AVENGED. 74
XIV. UNFORTUNATE POSTAGE-STAMP. 80
The Silver Gauntlet.
A STORY OF THE TURF.
In Four Chapters.
I. _An Introduction to Billy Platt._ 90
II. _Billy Platt shows his hand, and receives an
unexpected but well-deserved blow._ 92
III. _A Woman comes to the Rescue._ 95
IV. _Broken bones and successful love._ 99
XV. MY REVENGES AT BILLIARDS. 103
-- SECRETS OF A MATRIMONIAL AGENCY. 108
-- CRUEL WORK OF AN INTIMATE FRIEND. 116
-- THE MISSING "RAJAH" DIAMOND. 123
DANGEROUS DILEMMAS.
CHAPTER I.
THE ORIGIN OF "DANGEROUS DILEMMAS."
_The gambling tables at Spa--Compulsory mud bath--Saving one's life by
exchanging an overcoat--A fortunate shipwreck._
"You are in a vein of luck and yet cease to play," said the Dutch
banker Oppenheim to me over my shoulder at the roulette table at Spa.
Since that bright autumn day both Germany and Belgium have seen the
evil results attending public gambling when practised by weak-minded
individuals, and have banished the too fascinating game to Monaco, to
the great delight of the prince of the smallest kingdom in Europe.
Man, being a speculative animal by nature, finding trente et quarante
and roulette forbidden by a paternal government, has had recourse to
écarté and baccarat, and instead of playing at the kursaal in the
sight of everybody he now stakes his money in the seclusion of a club.
The facilities for gambling are more numerous than of yore, but you
cannot always depend upon the fairness of your opponents' game, nor
on realising your winnings. At the public tables there could be no
cheating, and when you won you could rely on getting your money.
The bankruptcies and suicides accruing from the gambling mania have
not diminished, but they are now attributed to other causes. A man
does not care to bespatter the Turkey carpet of the club house with
his brains, and a severe loss or a grand coup made at a club is not
usually the subject of a newspaper paragraph. When a Garcia broke the
bank at Baden Baden the fact was commented on by the whole European
press. A public gambling table is to some people's thinking an outlet
for the over speculative and a check against folly, but what is the use
of discussing the question, has not the fatal decree gone forth, and
the clink of the ivory ball and the "faites le jeu" of the impassable
croupier are no longer to be heard in the richly decorated halls of the
kursaal at Spa. But at the time the above remark was made roulette and
trente et quarante were in the heyday of their dangerous career.
"You are in a vein of luck and yet cease to play," the Baron repeated.
"I don't care to waste my mornings at the tables," I replied.
"Superior attractions elsewhere?"
"No, not what you mean; the bright sunshine lures me out of doors for
one thing, and you know I never play long in the morning."
"Why?"
"Because it would be making a toil of a pleasure. I enjoy my days in
the open air and speculate in earnest in the evening."
"Perhaps you are wise. At my time of life men are only too willing to
profit by the smiles of the fickle goddess, come they at any hour of
the day or night; they have had too much occasion to fear her frowns."
"They are no doubt right, and I am wrong to neglect my chance, but in
the morning I only venture a little to test the fallacy of the last
new system, and if possible to win enough money to cover the day's
expenses."
"Praiseworthy objects both, and if you are satisfied, what say you to
get our horses and have dejeuner at the restaurant in the wood. We will
find ortolans there, and the trout are quite equal to those of your
Loch Leven."
"Delighted," was my answer, and in a few minutes we were cantering
gaily along the heights above Spa.
Before reaching the charmingly situated restaurant we met with an
accident which nearly cost my companion his life.
When least expected how often in our progress through life do we
suddenly come face to face with a grave difficulty which the most acute
of intellects would have failed to foresee. Here's an illustration
of what I mean. To shorten our journey by about half a mile the
Baron and I left the main road and struck into the forest. The shade
from the trees was fully appreciated after the heat and dust. There
were numerous glades of surpassing loveliness, and we had but little
difficulty in finding a path for our horses. We had enjoyed the
agreeable change for some time when the question arose whether we had
not lost our way. It turned out that neither of us knew anything about
the intricate windings of the forest. The scenery was certainly very
pretty, but the wealth of the variegated foliage only gladdened the
eye, and the trout in the streams wanted catching and cooking; we were
two hungry men in search of something to eat. Our watches told us that
we had been nearly an hour endeavouring to reach our destination, which
by the longest route would not have occupied more than half the time.
We had undoubtedly lost our reckoning, and were making for some unknown
region. A philosopher, partial to offering words of advice in season
would write here, "beware of short cuts."
We altered our course and rode to the left instead of the right, and
coming to a large open space we set our horses going to make up for
the mistake. The open space was beautiful to look at, but proved
as treacherous as a lovely but deceitful woman. This simile is not
mine--the fair sex has no more devoted champion than myself--it was
suggested to me by Wormald, who has just returned from India to go
through the Divorce Court. Before we had ridden many yards we found
ourselves in the middle of a morass, and--pleasant sensations--horses
and riders felt themselves gradually sinking out of sight. Shouting
for help seemed useless in such a solitude, and our escape evidently
depended on our own exertions.
The Baron was a heavy man and weighed quite sixteen stone in the
saddle. He was mounted on a stout black cob about fifteen hands, which
was making extraordinary exertions to get out of the mire, but the
horses' floundering only made matters worse. My steed, a light-made
thoroughbred mare, standing 15--2, having only to carry about ten
stone, did not sink so deeply as the Baron's cob, and after a
desperate scramble we managed to retrace our steps and regain sound
ground. My trouble over, I fastened my muddy horse to a tree and
hastened to see what I could do for my companion. His position had
become very serious. The cob was lying on his side and had got the
Baron under him.
"I cannot move," he called out; "this brute will be the death of me,"
and from all appearances what he said was not unlikely to happen.
I could see nothing of him except his head, and only the back and
head of his horse were visible. I tried to enter the morass at a more
favourable place, but I could not advance any distance before I sank up
to the middle in nasty sticky slime. It was terribly annoying not to
be able to render any assistance to the drowning man. At the critical
moment when the Baron's head was disappearing from my sight I shouted
as hard as I could "If you don't make a tremendous effort, Baron, you
are a lost man; get free from your horse somehow; kick him."
My advice was not given a moment too soon. An opportune blow separated
horse and rider, and benefited both.
The Baron waded with difficulty to a tree growing in the middle of the
bog, and some friendly charcoal burners arriving on the scene we got
a supply of ropes and soon pulled the Baron and his cob out of the
quagmire. Having washed and dried our clothes the best way we could, we
did not look quite so presentable as when we started, but felt none the
worse, and guided by a native we were not long in reaching the welcome
shelter of the restaurant, where we found that our appetites had not
suffered from our compulsory mud bath.
"That was a novel experience," remarked the Baron as we sipped our
Moulin à Vent? on the verandah of the restaurant.
"More novel than agreeable," I replied, "it looked all up with you, and
I began to think of your heirs."
"Ah, they little imagine how near they were to handling my money. Do
you know that my senses were fast leaving me?"
"Really, and did the dark deeds of your life pass in gloomy procession
before you?"
"No, it was rather pleasant than otherwise, I felt like going to
sleep; your shout woke me up to my great danger. If I had been alone I
would have certainly been a dead man."
"A nice predicament I would have been in if I had returned to Spa by
myself; they might have thought that I was interested in your death,
and put me on trial for murder."
"You would have been considerably inconvenienced, and if not arrested,
you would have found yourself under police surveillance."
"Whatever the result of the trial, my enemies would have maintained to
the end of my days that I had done for you, and I might have had to
leave England and change my name."
"You are exaggerating now," replied the Baron smiling. "Let us rejoice
that we both escaped and are free from these undesirable complications.
Only twice in my life have I been so near death."
"Indeed! Are the particulars interesting? If not of a private nature, I
should like to hear them."
"There is no reason now, whatever there may have been, why I should not
satisfy your curiosity. The narration will not occupy much time."
"Early in life I was sent to Java to look after the branch of our
Rotterdam banking house. On one occasion it was my duty to visit a
gentleman who resided a short distance from town, for the purpose of
collecting a large sum of money. Whether this fact got abroad I know
not, but one thing is certain, that I was followed to my friend's
plantation by two sinister-looking individuals, who seemed to be very
much interested in my movements. When I saw the men dogging my steps I
regretted that I had chosen to walk. The planter would have gladly lent
me a horse, but I could frame no valid excuse for asking the favour. I
did not feel inclined to be thought a coward. At the plantation I met
an acquaintance who was engaged to one of the proprietor's daughters,
and I made sure he would return to town with me, and that consequently
my money would be quite safe. Contrary to my expectations, the lover
was not ready to join me when I started, and I went back alone. It
was getting dark and I kept a good look out, but I reached my house
without molestation, and I came to the conclusion that my suspicions
had been groundless. Early next day, however, I was horrified to hear
that the acquaintance I had left at the planter's, making love to
his sweetheart, had, on returning to town later in the evening been
brutally stabbed to death, and robbed of everything of value. Before
leaving the plantation I had taken the precaution, without saying a
word to anybody, to change my light overcoat for a dark one hanging
close beside it. It seems that the murdered man had been unfortunate
enough to put on my coat. The exchange of garments no doubt saved my
life."
"It was a lucky thought," I said; "they meant robbing you."
"Yes, and the idea only entered my mind at the moment of departure,
when I saw the two coats together."
"Fate was kind to you, but it was a near thing; you mentioned that you
were in deadly peril on another occasion."
"That was on the return journey to Europe. You have heard I daresay
that the voyage is both long and dangerous. On board with me I had the
head of our firm and his eldest daughter, but as I was only a cashier
at the time they kept me at a distance. In the midst of a terrific
storm our ship got out of her course and was driven on to some rocks
close to an uninhabited island. The captain told us that the vessel
was doomed, that nothing could save her, and that we must shift for
ourselves. The boats that were not smashed when we struck were seized
by the sailors. I was a good swimmer and saw that I would not have much
difficulty in reaching the shore, but what was to become of the feeble
old banker and his helpless daughter? In the hour of trial they looked
for me to do something for them. But what was I to do? I could save
one of them, I thought, but which? There was no time for deliberation.
Scarcely half an hour elapsed before the vessel broke in two and we
were thrown into the water. The poor banker made a heartrending appeal
to me to save him. 'Oh, haste, I am drowning,' he cried, and on seeing
me hesitate between him and his struggling daughter he added, 'Come to
me, I have another daughter.' I put a piece of the wreck in the young
lady's hands and assured her I would soon return. The banker was much
exhausted when I reached him, and in the strong surf we were as nearly
as possible drowned, but after repeated efforts I at last managed to
drag him up to a place of safety."
"And the daughter you saved; she became your wife?"
"Not so, alas! When I went back for her she had disappeared."
"Is that all, Baron?"
"Not quite. The banker was grateful; I was made a partner in the firm
and received the other daughter in marriage."
"You do come out of difficulties with flying colours. It would I
suppose have made a great difference to you if you had saved the young
lady instead of her father?"
"Immense; that was the turning point of my life; the poor girl who
perished was betrothed to her cousin, so you see she could not have
rewarded me with her hand."
"Lucky Baron!"
"It is true fortune has not been unkind to me, but I believe some such
accidents occur to everyone and that they make or mar the future."
* * * * *
These striking narratives made a lasting impression on me, and first
put into my head the thought that a collection of such dilemmas would
not be uninteresting. Much experience of men and cities has forced me
to the same conclusion as the Baron--viz., that at various periods of
his life man holds his destiny, so to speak, in the hollow of his hand,
and by his conduct at these critical moments his future prosperity or
adversity is assured. The proofs of this theory are now before you.
When my last witness has spoken I hope you--the jury--will at least
admit that I have not been negligent in hunting up my evidence.