The victim had been wounded in the heart, struck by a steady hand, and evidently with great violence.
They stood aghast at the horrifying discovery.
What do you think of it, Bill? asked the old driver timorously.
Murder, without a doubt.
I wonder whether this will give any clue to the murderer? the elder man said, picking up the handkerchief.
It was a ladys a small square of fine cambric with a delicate border of lace.
Lets look, exclaimed his companion, taking it in his hands, and holding it to the lamp.
Any mark on it?
No, nothing, he replied. Theres some funny scent on it, though, he added, placing it nearer his nose.
Good heavens, Bill, what shall we do? ejaculated the driver, thoroughly alarmed at the startling discovery.
Call the police at once. Wait here a minute, and Ill fetch a constable, the other replied, getting out of the omnibus, and running to the corner of the Strand, where an officer is constantly stationed on point duty.
Already a small crowd had collected, for the cabmen from the shelter opposite had quickly discerned that something unusual had occurred, and, on learning of the crime, grouped themselves around the vehicle in a state of great excitement, and eager to obtain a glimpse of the corpse.
A minute later the conductor returned with two constables. These were immediately followed by a detective-sergeant, who chanced to be passing, and another constable. The detective himself was astounded, although he had been present on more than one occasion when bodies had been found.
The circumstances having been briefly explained, he despatched one of the men to Agar Street for the hospital ambulance, and gave other orders, which were executed with obedience and promptitude.
Do you know the gentleman by sight? asked the detective of the conductor, as they both stood gazing upon the body, awaiting the arrival of the ambulance.
No, Ive never seen him before, the man replied; and the strangest part of the affair is, that when I got off at the Haymarket corner he wasnt inside. There were two gentlemen in the bus.
They got out at Spring Gardens, interrupted the driver. I stopped for them.
Then he must have entered immediately afterwards, remarked the detective thoughtfully.
Yes, thats the only way I can account for it.
It is certainly an extraordinary case, the officer said, bending down and re-examining the dead mans wound. From the time he got into the bus until you discovered him dead could not have been more than six or seven minutes?
Not so much, replied the driver. I generally reckon it takes four minutes from Dents to the corner here, including the stoppage in front of the lions.
But you didnt pull up there to-night?
No, because I was not aware I had any fare inside.
Ah? exclaimed the detective confidently. The murder was evidently cleverly planned, and the assassin has got away very neatly indeed.
It couldnt be suicide, could it? suggested one of the constables.
Impossible, for the knife has disappeared. But heres the ambulance; we must remove the body and disperse the crowd.
At that moment a hansom, which had turned from the Strand towards Pall Mall, was compelled to pull up owing to the throng of eager onlookers which had now become so augmented as to reach across the road.
Pushing up the flap in the roof with his walking-stick, the fare, a well-dressed and rather handsome young man, whose face bore that frank, good-humoured expression which always impresses favourably, asked Whats the fuss, cabby?
Cant exactly make out, sir, replied the man. They say a murders been committed.
Somebody murdered! he exclaimed in surprise. By Jove, a crime in a bus isnt a sight to be witnessed every day. Wait over there, cabby, opposite the church. Ill go and have a look.
Alighting, he quickly made his way through the excited crowd. As he edged in towards the omnibus, two constables, who had just lifted the body out, were placing it carefully upon the stretcher, for a doctor had already made an examination and pronounced that death had been almost instantaneous.
In the brief moment while the constables arranged his head the light of the gas lamps outside the public-house shone full upon the pale, bloodless features, revealing a man of about thirty-five, whose face was well moulded and refined, with closed eyes, very wavy hair, and short, pointed beard. That he was a gentleman was evident. His hands looked soft and white, his finger-nails showed that attention had been bestowed upon them; a large diamond glittered on his finger, and in his scarf was another valuable stone. His attire, too, was the reverse of common, for his overcoat was lined with sable in a style which only a West-End tailor could produce, and his other garments were of the best quality and latest fashion.
Poor fellow he looks as if hes asleep, exclaimed a woman sympathetically, at the young mans elbow.
Ah, remarked another, hell never wake again. Whoever killed him accomplished the deed very effectually.
Hes a thorough gentleman, too, commented a cabman, who was eagerly watching with several of his companions. I wonder what the motive could have been?
Theyll call Teddy Millss bus the hearse, now, said another cabman; but his companion replied
Garn, Arry, it aint no laughing matter.
Well, its a bold stroke, at any rate, rejoined the man addressed. Why, he couldnt have been seated in the bus a minute before he was killed.
Is it such a mysterious affair, then? asked the young man who had alighted from the cab, turning to them.
Mysterious? I should rather think it was. It all happened between the corner of Pall Mall and here. The victim must have entered the bus as it was going along, but whether the murderer was inside or whether he followed, nobody knows.
Pass along, please; pass along! two constables commanded.
The body, which had by this time been placed on the ambulance and lightly covered, was being wheeled away, and the police were busy dispersing the ever-increasing crowd.
By Jove, its terrible! Such sights are enough to give one the blues, the young man exclaimed aloud, as he made his way towards his cab. I wonder who the Johnnie is? The face seems familiar, yet for the life of me I cant recollect where Ive seen it before. But, there, it isnt any use making oneself glum over the troubles of others, and, goodness knows, my own cursed luck is hard enough.
He sighed, and, springing into the hansom, shouted Drive on, cabby, as fast as you can make that bag of bones travel.
The man laughed at his fares humorous cynicism, and, whipping his horse, drove rapidly away.
Chapter Three
In Bohemia
Look here, Hugh, what is the cause of this confounded gloominess?
Nothing that concerns anybody, except myself, was the morose reply.
Well, you neednt snarl like that at an old friend. Come, out with it, and lets have no secrets.
Theres not much to tell, old fellow, beyond the fact that Im ruined.
What! exclaimed John Egerton, open-mouthed in amazement. Ruined?
Yes.
Are you really serious; or is this another of your confoundedly grim jokes?
Its too true, alas! the other replied, with a sigh. The artist, laying his palette and mahlstick aside, turned and faced his visitor, exclaiming
Its too true, alas! the other replied, with a sigh. The artist, laying his palette and mahlstick aside, turned and faced his visitor, exclaiming
Sit down and relate the circumstances; we must see what can be done.
Nothing can prevent the catastrophe. Ive considered the problem long enough, and can find no solution.
Well, dont knock under without a struggle, my dear old chap. Men work for fame and fortune, but expect happiness as a gift. Confide in me, and perhaps we may arrange things.
The other smiled sadly, but shook his head.
It was the afternoon following the events related in the previous chapter. The two speakers who were in such serious conversation stood in a shabby studio in Fitzroy Square gravely contemplating one another.
John Egerton, the owner of the place was a successful artist, whose works sold well, whose black and white illustrations were much sought after by magazine proprietors, and whose Academy pictures had brought him some amount of notoriety. His success was well deserved, for, after a rather wild student life on the Continent, he was now exceedingly industrious. Art was his hobby, and he had but little pleasure outside the walls of his studio. Though discarding a collar, and attired negligently in a paint-besmirched coat very much the worse for wear, a pair of trousers much bespattered, and feet thrust into slippers, yet his face spoke of genius and indomitable perseverance, with its deep grey eyes, firm, yet tender mouth, and general expression of power and independence.
His visitor, Hugh Trethowen, was of a different type handsome, and perhaps a trifle more refined. A splendid specimen of manhood, with his fine height and strongly-built frame, well-cut Saxon features, and bright colouring, with laughing blue eyes, the earnest depths of which were rendered all the more apparent by the thoughtful, preoccupied look which his countenance wore.
A young girl, undeniably beautiful, with a good complexion, stood watching them. She was dressed in a bright but becoming costume of the harem, and had, until the arrival of Trethowen, been posing to the artist. Upon the easel was a full length canvas almost complete a marvellous likeness, representing her laughing face, with its clear brown eyes, and her bare white arms swinging the scimitars over her head in the undulating motion of the Circassian dance.
Besides acting in the capacity of model, Dolly Vivian was the artists companion, critic and friend. Among the brethren of the brush she was well-known as a quiet, patient, unobtrusive girl, who, with commendable self-sacrifice, had supported her mother and invalid sister by her earnings. Egerton had become acquainted with her years ago, long before he became known to fame, at a time when his studio was an attic in a street off the Edgware Road, when he used frequently to eat but one meal a day, and had often shared that with her. She was his friend and benefactor then, as now. When times were hard and money scarce, she would give him sittings and accept no payment, or, if she did, she would spend the greater portion in the necessaries of life, which she would convey to his sky parlour on the following morning.
This platonic friendship, which sprang up in days of hardship and disappointment, had been preserved in affluence. From her model the rising artist had painted most of the pictures that had brought him renown, and he acknowledged the debt of gratitude by making her his confidante. It was not surprising, therefore, that at his studio she conducted herself as if thoroughly at home, nor that she should be well acquainted with such a constant visitor as Hugh Trethowen.
When, however, the two men commenced so momentous a question, she felt that her presence was not desired, so busied herself, with a good deal of unnecessary noise, with the teacups which stood on a small table beside the easel.
Suddenly she raised her handsome head, and, looking at Egerton, said:
If you are talking of private matters, I will go and rest until you are ready to recommence.
The artist glanced inquiringly at his friend.
There is no necessity for leaving us, Dolly, said Trethowen. We are all three old friends, and my purpose in coming here this afternoon is to spend an hour with you for the last time.
The last time! she echoed in dismay. Why are you going away?
He did not answer for a moment. His eyes were fixed upon the girls face, and his lips trembled a little under the shadow of his fair moustache. Could he really muster up courage to tell them of his intention? He hesitated, then he replied, firmly enough:
By an unfortunate combination of circumstances I am compelled to leave all my friends. I much regret it, but it cannot be avoided.
The men had seated themselves, and the pretty model was pouring tea into three dainty little cups.
Egerton frowned impatiently.
This sort of talk isnt like you, Hugh, and it sounds bad. Surely you dont contemplate leaving us altogether?
I must I cannot remain.
Why?
Ive already told you. Im ruined.
Ruined good God youre joking! But even if you are confound it why should you go? Other men have got on their legs again.
I never shall, Trethowen replied sadly. Its impossible.
If youll tell us about it, said the artist persuasively, we can judge for ourselves.
Well, briefly told, the facts are these, old fellow. You are aware Im only the younger son, and that on my fathers death my elder brother, Douglas, with whom Ive not been on friendly terms for several years, succeeded to the estate.
The other nodded acquiescence.
My father undoubtedly meant well, Hugh continued, for he left me some property yielding nearly five hundred a year. Upon this I lived for five years, but
And what more could you expect? interrupted his friend. Surely thats enough for a bachelor to live upon?
It would have been, I admit, he replied despondently. Unfortunately, I have been compelled to dispose of the property.
Why?
To temporarily satisfy my hungry creditors.
Are they numerous?
Numerous! Why, theyre so plentiful that, by Jove, Ive never troubled to count em.
But how have you become so entangled?
The usual method is responsible, old chap tempting fortune, he replied bitterly. The fact is, things have been going wrong for a long time past, and Ive disposed of all Im worth in an endeavour to settle up honourably. Its no use, however Ive sunk deeper and deeper into the mire, until the only means by which to extricate myself is to go right away. Dunned on every side, with county court summonses descending in showers, the Hebrew Shylocks who hold me in their accursed clutches seem to be taking a delight in crushing me out of existence.
The artist was mute with astonishment. He had always considered his friend very lucky in having ample means at his command, and had never imagined he was in such straits.
Then, as I understand, youve had to go to the Jews, and theyve foreclosed, he said, after silently contemplating the canvas before him.
Exactly, Hugh replied. Think. What can a fellow do when hes about town like Ive been? He must necessarily follow the example of others on the course and in the clubs, if he doesnt wish to be ranked with outsiders. As an instance, I lost over the St. Leger a clear eight hundred.
Whew! If thats the case, Im at a loss to give advice, exclaimed Egerton gravely.
It would be of no assistance, he said. Like an ass, Ive run through all I possess, with the exception of a bare couple of pounds a week. I must therefore drag out an existence in one of those dismal old continental towns that seem to be provided as harbours of refuge for unfortunate fellows like myself. Im truly sorry to leave you both, but needs must when the devil drives.