Part 44 (1/2)
”What do you want with him?” she demanded.
”I am going to appeal to that officer for protection, and I don't think you will find that I shall do so in vain. You will compel people to summon the police--it is extremely unwise.”
The constable was sauntering towards them. Recognising, apparently, that there was logic in what Mr. Luker said, without waiting for the policeman to approach, also without going through the empty formula of wis.h.i.+ng the solicitor good-afternoon, she marched off and left Mr. Luker alone. When she had gone, perhaps, a hundred yards, she stopped and looked back.
Mr. Luker, who was still where she had left him, was seemingly enjoying a little friendly converse with the constable. She continued her progress for, possibly, another hundred yards, and then again looked back. This time Mr. Luker had vanished. She could distinguish the stalwart figure of the constable striding along in solitary state in the distance. She signalled to a hansom. ”Stamford Street, Blackfriars Bridge end,” was the direction she gave the driver. When the vehicle had brought her to the point she desired, descending, she dismissed it. She stood for two or three minutes, scanning the pa.s.sers-by, keenly observing, so far as she was able, every one in sight. Then, turning into Stamford Street, she presently turned again into a street on her right. She was coming into a very shady neighbourhood, in which one opined that women of her appearance were very occasional visitants. She twisted and turned, however, with the unerring rapidity of one who knew it uncommonly well, until at last she found herself in what was rather an alley than a street, and a cul-de-sac at that, for at the end was nothing but a high blank wall. Here the tenements were not only extremely small, apparently consisting of five or six rooms at most, they were also of disreputable appearance. Pausing in front of one she regarded it with an attentive eye. The fact that the blinds were down gave it a deserted look. She knocked once, twice--there was no bell. When no one answered she drew a conclusion of her own.
”He's not come yet; I'll wait.”
She did wait, for a good half-hour, with exemplary patience, in spite of the fact that long before the period of waiting was at an end she had become an object of much interest to a large number of curious eyes. Just as the observers were beginning to wonder how long she did intend to stop, the object of her flattering quest came into sight, in the shape of the legal gentleman from whom she had so lately parted--Mr. Isaac Luker.
Contrary to her hopes and expectations he was not alone; once more her wily old friend had proved equal to the needs of the occasion. On either side of him were men whose character, or, rather, want of character, was written large all over them--two more unmistakable ruffians one would have to go far to see. At sight of her Mr. Luker came to a standstill.
”I thought I should find you waiting for me here; your presence is not at all unexpected. So, as in this neighbourhood the police are not much protection, and I suspected that I might stand in need of protection, I brought my two friends here with me. They think little of putting a woman of your sort into the river, as gentlemen of their profession generally do, so I'll leave them to deal with you after the mode with which they are most familiar.”
”Is this 'er?” inquired one of the friends, a beetle-browed person, with an open gash running right down his filthy cheek.
”That's her, my good friend. You talk to her, in any way you please, while I go inside.”
As he produced his latch-key Mrs. Lamb moved towards him in a forlorn-hope sort of spirit.
”Let me come in! There's something which I must say to you.”
Without giving her a hint of his intention the beetle-browed person struck her with his clenched fist on the shoulder in such fas.h.i.+on that, had she not lurched against the wall, Mrs. Lamb would have gone headlong to the ground. Mr. Luker stood to comment on the action.
”That's right, my friend; that's how she likes to talk to others.”
He disappeared into the house; they heard him locking and bolting the door. The beetle-browed person placed himself in unpleasant proximity to Mrs. Lamb; his manner was, if possible, even more eloquent than his words.
”Now then, are you going to take yourself off, or have we got to move you? Make up your mind, because our time's valuable.”
She made up her mind, there and then. Realising that she was doomed to still another disappointment, she took herself off, with Mr. Luker's two ”friends” at her heels. When she was back again into Stamford Street she stopped and spoke to them.
”There are police here, as, if you try to follow me another step, you'll find.”
”We don't want to follow you--not much! We only want to keep you off the governor, that's all. You can go where you like, and you can do what you like, but if you come near his crib again we'll mark you.”
Hailing another hansom Mrs. Lamb left Mr. Luker's two ”friends”
standing on the pavement.
CHAPTER XXVII
PURE ETHER
At the house in Connaught Square Mrs. Lamb had to knock and ring four times without, apparently, attracting the attention of any one inside. She was meditating gaining admittance through the area door, when a fifth a.s.sault upon the bell and knocker was productive of a more definite result. After a good deal of what seemed unnecessary fumbling with the handle, the door was opened sufficiently wide to admit of Cottrell, the butler, being seen within. He was attired in the same extremely undignified costume in which he had greeted his mistress in the morning, which, however, showed certain signs of what might be called degeneration. The s.h.i.+rt-front was, if possible, more crumpled than before; the collar was gone; the waistcoat had, in some mysterious way, strayed out of the straight, so that while it was on one side of his body the s.h.i.+rt was on the other; his hair was rumpled; the whole man looked as if a plentiful application of cold, clean water might do him a great deal of good.
He held the door just wide enough open to enable him to display his person and to see who was there, seeming to be not at all abashed when he perceived that it was his mistress.
”So it's you, is it! So you've come at last; it's about time; we thought you never were coming. I hope you've brought some money--everybody hopes so. It's no good your coming into this house if you haven't--not the least.”
Mrs. Lamb was in a bad temper, which, perhaps, on the whole was not surprising. She had been in a bad temper when she had started to visit Messrs. McTavish & Brown. The incidents which had marked the afternoon had not tended to sweeten it. On the contrary, for quite a time she had been looking for somebody on whom, to use an expressive euphemism, she might ”let herself go”. Had Mr. Cottrell been aware of the lady's state of mind, even in his then peculiar condition, he might have realised that there are occasions on which discretion is the better part of valour. He would certainly hardly have afforded her not only so excellent an opportunity of giving expression to her feelings, but also so capital an occasion of making her quarrel just. She looked at Mr. Cottrell with something in her eyes which should in itself have been sufficient to serve as a warning; there was still time for him to perform a strategic retreat. Without a word she went quickly up the steps, flung the door wide open, seized him by the shoulders, and sent him spinning into the street. He sat, for some moments, on the kerb, as if overcome.