Part 46 (1/2)

For one moment Harry Vine stood bending over his victim; then uttering a hoa.r.s.e sigh, he leaped over the body and fled.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

IN THE BLACK SHADOW.

Mrs Van Heldre let her work fall in her lap and gazed across at her husband.

”I suppose Harry Vine will walk home with Madelaine?” she said.

”Eh? Maddy? I'd forgotten her,” said Van Heldre laying down his pipe.

”No; I'll go up and fetch her myself.”

”Do, dear, but don't stay.”

”Not I,” was the reply; and going out of the dining-room, where he always sat when he had his evening pipe, the merchant went into the study, where by the dim light he saw that his writing-table drawer was open.

”How's that?” he thought. ”Did I--No.”

He ran out into the pa.s.sage, saw that his office door was open, and entered to receive the blow which laid him senseless before the safe.

Van Heldre did not lie there long.

Crampton came away from the old inn, stick in hand, conscious of having done a good evening's work over the business of the Fishermen's Benefit Club, the men having paid up with unusual regularity; but all the same, he did not feel satisfied. Those pedlar sailor men troubled him. They had been hanging about the town for some time, and though he knew nothing against them, he had, as a respectable householder, a confirmed dislike to all nomadic trading gentry. To him they were, whether Jew or Gentile, French or German, all gipsies, and belonging to a cla.s.s who, to use his words, never took anything out of their reach.

He felt sure that the man he had seen in the darkness was one of these, and blaming himself now for not having taken further notice of the matter, he determined to call at his employer's on his way home to mention the fact.

”Better late than never,” he said, and he stumped steadily down the main street as a man walks who is possessed of a firm determination to do his duty.

As he went on he peered down every one of the dark, narrow alleys which led to the water-side places, all reeking of tar and old cordage, and creosoted nets, and with more than a suspicion of the celebrated ancient and fishlike smell so often quoted.

”If I had my way,” said Crampton, ”I'd have a lamp at each end of those places. They're too dark--too dark.”

But though he scanned each place carefully, he did not see any lurking figure, and he went on till he reached his employer's house, where, through the well-lit window, he could see Mrs Van Heldre looking plump, rosy, and smiling, as she busied herself in putting away her work.

Crampton stopped at the opposite side, took off his hat and scratched his head.

”Now if I go and tell him what I think, he'll call me a nervous old fool, and abuse me for frightening his wife.”

He hesitated, and instead of going to the front door, feeling that perhaps, after all, he had taken an exaggerated view of things, he went on to the corner of the house and lane, with the intention of having a look round and then going on home.

He had just gone about half way, when there was a loud rap given by the gate leading down into Van Heldre's yard. Some one had thrown it violently back against the wooden step, and that somebody had sprung out and run down the lane in the opposite direction to that by which the old clerk had come.

”Hah!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and hurrying on he hastily descended the steps, entered the pa.s.sage, and trembling now in every limb, made his way into the office, where, with all the regular method of the man of business, he quickly took a box of matches from the chimney-piece, and turned on and lit one of the gas burners.

The soft light from the ground-gla.s.s globe showed nothing wrong as he glanced round.

Yes; something was missing--the heavy ebony ruler which always reposed on the two bra.s.s hooks like a weapon of war at the end of his desk.

That was gone.