THE SECOND ATTACK
Mrs. Smith was accustomed to her master's occasional freaks in the matter
of dinner. Her husband, aided by long experience, knew whether Brett's
"immediately" meant one minute, or five, or even fifteen.
This time he gave his wife the longest limit, so, in addition to the
chicken, a bird whose unhappy attribute is a facility for being devoured
with the utmost speed, a mixed grill of cutlets, bacon, and French
sausages appeared on the table.
The diners were hungry and the good things were appreciated. It was well
that they wasted no time on mere words. They were still intent on the
feast when a boy messenger brought a note. It was from Helen, written in
pencil:
"David was coming to see you when he was attacked. Can you come to
us at once?
"H.L.
"P.S.--David is all right--only shaken and covered with mud. It
occurred five minutes ago."
"Dear me!" said Brett. "Dear me!"
There was such a hiss of concentrated fury in his voice that Winter was
puzzled to account for the harmless expression the barrister had twice
used. The detective knew that his distinguished friend never, by any
chance, indulged in strong language, yet something had annoyed him so
greatly that a more powerful expletive would have had a very natural
sound.
Brett glared at him.
"It is evident," he said, "that you do not know the meaning of 'Dear me.'
It is simply the English form of the Italian 'O Dio mio!' and a literal
translation would shock you."
"It doesn't appear that much damage has been done to your client," gasped
Winter, for Brett had unceremoniously dragged him from his chair with the
intention of rushing downstairs forthwith.
They hurried out together, and dashed into the waiting hansom.
"Think of it, Winter," groaned the barrister. "Whilst we were seduced by a
dorking and a French sausage--an unholy alliance--the very man we wanted
was waiting in Northumberland Avenue. You are avenged! All my jibes and
sneers at Scotland Yard recoil on my own head. I might have known that
such a desperate scoundrel would soon make another attempt, and next time
upon the right person. You followed Mrs. Jiro. I am led astray by a cooked
fowl. Oh, Winter, Winter, who could suspect such depravity in a roasted
chicken!"
"I'm dashed if I can guess what you're driving at," growled the detective.
"No; I understand. The blood has left your brain and gone to your stomach.
You will not be able to think for hours."
Raving thus, in disjointed sentences that Winter could not make head or
tail of, Brett refused to be explicit until they reached the hotel, when
he discharged the cabman with a payment that caused the gentleman on the
perch to spit on the palm of his hand in great glee, whilst he promptly
wheeled the horse in the direction of his livery stables.
They were met by David himself, seated in the foyer by the side of Helen,
who looked white and frightened.
"This chap is a terror," began Hume, once they were safe in the privacy of
their sitting-room. "I would never have believed such things were possible
in London if they had not actually happened to Robert and me to-day. We
had dinner rather early, and dined in private, as Robert is feeling stiff
now after this morning's adventure. Margaret suggested--"
"Where is Mrs. Capella?" interrupted the barrister.
Miss Layton answered:
"She is with Mr. Frazer. They have found a quiet corner of the ladies'
smoking-room--I mean the smoking-room where ladies go--and we have not
told them yet what has happened to Davie."
"Well," resumed Hume, "Margaret's idea is that we should all leave here
for the North to-morrow. She wanted you to approve of the arrangement, so
I got into a hansom and started for your chambers. It was raining a
little, and the street was full of traffic. The driver asked if I would
like the window closed, but I would sooner face a tiger than drive through
London in a boxed-up hansom, so I refused. The middle of the road, you
know, has a long line of waiting cabs, broken by occasional
crossing-places. The horse was just getting into a trot when a man,
wrapped in a mackintosh, ran alongside, caught the off rein in the crook
of his stick, swung the poor beast right round through one of the gaps in
the rank, and down we went--horse, cab, driver, and myself--in front of a
brewer's dray. Luckily for me and the driver, we were flung right over the
smash into the gutter, for the big, heavy van ran into the fallen hansom,
crushed it like a matchbox, and killed the horse. Had the window been
closed--well, it wasn't, so there is no need for romancing."
Poor Nellie clung to her lover as if to assure herself that he was really
uninjured.
"Did you see your assailant clearly?"
"Unfortunately, no. The side windows were blurred with rain, and I was
trying to strike a match. The first thing I was conscious of was a violent
swerve. I looked up, saw a tall, cloaked figure wrenching at the reins
with a crooked stick, and over we went. I fell into a bed of mud. It
absolutely blinded me. I jumped up, and fancying that the blackguard ran
up Northumberland Street I dashed after him. I cannoned against some
passer-by and we both fell. A news-runner, who witnessed the affair, did
go after the cause of it, and received such a knock-out blow on the jaw
that he was hardly able to speak when found by a policeman."
"Where is this man now?"
"With the cabman in a small hotel across the road. I had not the nerve to
bring them here. If we have any more adventures, the management will turn
us out. I fancy they think our behaviour is hardly respectable. The
instant Robert or I endeavour to leave the door we are used to clean up a
portion of the roadway."
"Miss Layton, would you mind joining the others for a few minutes. Mr.
Hume is going out with Mr. Winter and myself."
The barrister's request took Helen by surprise.
"Is there any need for further risk?" she faltered. "Moreover, Margaret
will see at once that something has gone wrong. I am a poor hand at
deception where--where Davie is concerned."
"Have no fear. Tell them everything. Mr. Hume will be very seriously
injured--in to-morrow morning's papers. This expert in street accidents
must be led to believe he has succeeded. In any case, aided by a miserable
fowl, he is far enough from here at this moment. We will return in twenty
minutes."
The girl was so agitated that she hardly noticed Brett's words. But their
purport reassured her, and she left them.
The three men passed out into the drizzling rain. Owing to the Strand
being "up," a continuous stream of traffic flowed through the Avenue. Hume
pointed out the gap through which the horse was forced, and then they
darted across the roadway.
"I fell here," he said, indicating a muddy flood of road scrapings, in
which were embedded many splinters from the wreckage of the hansom.
Brett, careless of the amazement he caused to hurrying pedestrians, waded
through the bed of mud, kicking up any objects encountered by his feet.
He uttered an exclamation of triumph when he produced a stick from the
depths.
"I thought I should find it," he said. "When the horse fell it was a
hundred to one against the stick being extricated from the reins, and its
owner could not wait an instant. You and the stick, my dear Hume, lay
close together."
A small crowd was gathering. The barrister laughed.
"Gentleman," he said, "why are you so surprised? Which of you would not
dirty his boots to recover such a valuable article as this?"
Some people grinned sympathetically. They all moved away.
In an upper room of the neighbouring public-house were a suffering
"runner" and a disconsolate "cabby." The "runner" could tell them nothing
tangible concerning the man he pursued.
"I sawr 'im bring the hoss dahn like a bullick," he whispered, for the
poor fellow had received a terrible blow. "I went arter 'im, dodged rahnd
the fust corner, an', bli-me, 'e gev me a punch that would 'ave 'arted
Corbett."
"What with--his fist?" inquired Brett.
"Nah, guv'nor--'is 'eel, blawst 'im. I could 'ave dodged a square blow. I
can use my dukes a bit myself."
"What was the value of the punch?"
The youth tried to smile, though the effort tortured him. "It was worth
'arf a thick 'un at least, guv'nor."
Hume gave him two sovereigns, and the runner could not have been more
taken aback had the donor "landed him" on the sound jaw.
"And now, you," said Brett to the cabman. "What did you see?"
"Me!" with a snort of indignation. "Little over an hour ago I sawr a smawt
keb an' a tidy little nag wot I gev thirty quid fer at Ward's in the
Edgware Road a fortnight larst Toosday. And wot do I see now? Marylebone
Work'us fer me an' the missis an' the kids. My keb gone, my best hoss
killed, an' a pore old crock left, worth abart enough to pay the week's
stablin'. I see a lot, I do."
The man was telling the truth. He was blear-eyed with misery. Brett looked
at Hume, and the latter rang a bell. He asked the waiter for a pen and
ink.
"How much did your cab cost?" he said to the driver, who was so downcast
that he actually failed to correctly interpret David's action. The
question had to be repeated before an answer came.
"It wasn't a new 'un, mister. I was just makin' a stawt. I gev fifty-five
pound fer it, an' three pun ten to 'ave it done up. But there! What's the
use of talkin'? I'm orf 'ome, I am, to fice the missis."
"Wait just a little while," said David kindly. "You hardly understand this
business. The madman who attacked us meant to injure me, not you. Here is
a cheque for £100, which will not only replace your horse and cab, but
leave you a little over for the loss of your time."
Winter caught the dazed cabman by the shoulder.
"Billy," he said, "you know me. Are you going home, or going to get
drunk?"
Billy hesitated.
"Goin' 'ome," he vociferated. "S'elp me--"
"One moment," said Brett. "Surely you have some idea of the appearance of
the rascal who pulled your horse over?"
The man was alternately surveying the cheque and looking into the face of
his benefactor.
"I dunno," he cried, after a pause. "I feel a bit mixed. This gentleman
'ere 'as acted as square as ever man did. 'E comes of a good stock, 'e
does, an' yet--I 'umbly ax yer pawdon, sir--but the feller who tried to
kill you an' me might ha' bin yer own brother."