The accused then left the Court with his friends, one of them said lightly, as I approached. He was granted a free pardon, but bound over in his own recognisances to keep the peace for six months.
You have been getting yourself into trouble, Dick, and no mistake, observed his neighbour I am generally called Dick by my friends.
Into trouble? What do you mean? I retorted, nettled.
Why you know quite well, he answered. This Houghton affair, the scandal about the Thorolds, of course. How came you to get mixed up in it? We like you, old man, but you know it makes it a bit unpleasant for some of us. You know what people are. They will talk.
I suppose you mean that men are judged by the company they keep, and that because I happened to be at Houghton at the time of that affair, and was unwillingly dragged into prominence by the newspapers, therefore that discredit reflects on me.
Well, I should not have expressed it precisely in that way, but still
Still what?
As you ask me, I suppose I must answer. I do think it rather unfortunate you should have got yourself mixed up in the business, and both Algie and Frank agree with me dont you, Algie? he ended, turning to his friend.
Awe er awe quite so, quite so. We were talking of you just as you came in, my dear old Dick, and we all agreed it was, awe er was awe a confounded pity you had anything to do with it. Bad form, you know, old Dick, all this notoriety. Never does to be unusual, singular, or different from other people eh what? Ones friends dont like it and one dont like it oneself what?
Their shallow views and general mental vapidity, if I may put it so, jarred upon me. After spending ten minutes in their company, I went into the dining-room and lunched alone. Then I read the newspapers, dozed in an armchair for half-an-hour, and finally, at about four oclock, returned to my flat in King Street. John met me on the stairs.
Ah! there you are, sir, he exclaimed. Did you meet them?
Meet whom?
Why, they havent been gone not two minutes, so I thought you might have met them in the street, sir. They waited over half-an-hour.
But who were they? What were their names? I asked, irritated at John for not telling me at once the names of the visitors.
A young lady and a gentleman theres a card on your table, sir; I cant recall the names for the moment, he said, wrinkling his forehead as he scratched his ear to stimulate his memory. The gentleman was extremely tall, quite a giant, with a dark beard.
I hurried up the stairs, for the lift was out of order, and let myself into my flat with my latch key. On the table, in my sitting-room, was a ladys card on a salver.
Miss Thorold.
In Veras handwriting were the words, scribbled in pencil across it
So sorry we have missed you.
Chapter Six
The House in the Square
I admit that I was dumbfounded.
Vera and her mysterious friend were together, calling in the most matter-of-fact way possible, and just as though nothing had happened! It seemed incredible!
All at once a dreadful thought occurred to me that made me catch my breath. Was it possible that my love was an actress, in the sense that she was acting a part? Had she cruelly deceived me when she had declared so earnestly that she loved me? The reflection that, were she practising deception, she would not have come to see me thus openly with the man with the black beard, relieved my feelings only a little. For how came she to be with Davies at all? And again, who was this man Davies? Also that telephone message a fortnight previously, how could I account for it under the circumstances?
Oh, come to me do come to me! I am in such trouble, my love had cried so piteously, and then had added: You alone can help me.
Some one else, apparently, must have helped her. Could it have been this big, dark man?
And was he, in consequence, supplanting me in her affection? The thought held me breathless.
At times I am something of a philosopher, though my relatives laugh when I tell them so, and reply, Not a philosopher, only a well-meaning fellow, and extremely good-natured a description I detest. Realising now the uselessness of worrying over the matter, I decided to make no further move, but to sit quiet and await developments.
If you worry, I often tell my friends, it wont in the least help to avert impending disaster, while if what you worry about never comes to pass, you have made yourself unhappy to no purpose.
A platitude? Possibly. But two-thirds of the words of wisdom uttered by great men, and handed down as tradition to a worshipping posterity, are platitudes of the most commonplace type, if you really come to analyse them.
Time hung heavily. It generally ends by hanging heavily upon a man without occupation. But put yourself for a moment in my place. I had lost my love, and those days of inactivity and longing were doubly tedious because I ached to bestir myself somehow, anyhow, to clear up a mystery which, though gradually fading from the mind of a public ever athirst for fresh sensation, was actively alive in my own thoughts the one thought, indeed, ever present in my mind. Why had the Thorolds so suddenly and mysteriously disappeared?
Thus it occurred to me, two days after Davies and Vera had called at my flat, to stroll down into Belgravia and interview the caretaker at 102, Belgrave Street. Possibly by this time, I reflected, he might have seen Sir Charles Thorold, or heard from him.
When I had rung three times, the door slowly opened to the length of its chain, and I think quite the queerest-looking little old man I had ever set eyes on, peered out. He gazed with his sharp, beady eyes up into my face for a moment or two, then asked, in a broken quavering voice
Are you another newspaper genleman?
Oh, no, I answered, laughing, for I guessed at once how he must have been harassed by reporters, and I could sympathise with him. I am not a journalist Im only a gentleman.
Of course he was too old to note the satire, but the fact that I wore a silk hat and a clean collar, seemed to satisfy him that I must be a person of some consequence, and when I had assured him that I meant him no ill, but that, on the contrary, I might have something to tell him that he would like to hear, he shut the door, and I heard his trembling old hands remove the chain.
And how long is it since Sir Charles was last here? I said to him, when he had shown me into his little room on the ground floor, where a kettle purred on a gas-stove. I know him well, you know; I was staying at Houghton Park when he disappeared.
He looked me up and down, surprised and apparently much interested.
Were you indeed, sir? he exclaimed. Well, now well, well!
Why dont you sit down and make yourself comfortable, my old friend, I went on affably. I drew forward his armchair, and he sank into it with a grunt of relief.
You are a very kind genleman, you are, very kind indeed, he said, in a tone that betrayed true gratitude. Ah! Ive known genlemen in my time, and I know a genleman when I sees one, I do.
What part of Norfolk do you come from? I asked, as I took a seat near him, for I knew the Norfolk brogue quite well.
He looked at me and grinned.
Well, now, thats strange you knowing I come from Norfolk! But its true. Oh, yes, it is right. Im a Norfolk man. I was born in Diss. I mind the time my father
He looked at me and grinned.
Well, now, thats strange you knowing I come from Norfolk! But its true. Oh, yes, it is right. Im a Norfolk man. I was born in Diss. I mind the time my father
Yes, yes, I interrupted, well talk about that presently, for I could see that, once allowed to start on the subject of his relatives and his native county, he would talk on for an hour. What I have come here this afternoon to talk to you about is Sir Charles Thorold. When was he last here?
It will be near two years come Michaelmas, he answered, without an instants hesitation. And since then I havent set eyes on him I havent.
And has this house been shut up all the time?
Ay, all that time. I mind the time my father used to tell me
I damned his father under my breath, and quickly stopped him by asking who paid him his wages.
My wages? Oh, Sir Charles lawyers, Messrs Spink and Peters, of Lincolns Inn, pays me my wages. But they are not going to pay me any more. No. They are not going to pay me any more now.
Not going to pay you any more? What do you mean?
Give me notice to quit, they did, a week ago come Saturday.
But why?
Orders from Sir Charles, they said. Would you like to see their letter, sir?
I should, if you have it by you.
It was brief, curt, and brutally frank
From Messrs Spink and Peters, Solicitors, 582, Lincolns Inn, W.C.
To William Taylor, Caretaker,
102, Belgrave Street, S.W.
Messrs Spink and Peters are instructed by Sir Charles Thorold to inform William Taylor that owing to his advanced age his services will not be needed by Sir Charles Thorold after March 25. William Taylor is requested to acknowledge the receipt of this letter.
They dont consider your feelings much, I said, as I refolded the letter and handed it back to him.
He seemed puzzled.
Feelings, sir? What are those? he asked. I dont somehow seem to know.
No matter. Under the circumstances it is, perhaps, as well you shouldnt know. Now, I want to ask you a few questions, my old friend and look here, I am going, first of all, to make you a little present.
I slipped my fingers into my waistcoat pocket, produced a half-sovereign, and pressed it into the palm of his wrinkled old hand.
To buy tobacco with no, dont thank me, I said quickly, as he began to express gratitude. Now, answer a few questions I am going to put to you. In the first place, how long have you been in Sir Charles service?
Sixteen years, come Michaelmas, he answered promptly. I came from Diss. I mind the time my father
How did Sir Charles, or Mr Thorold as he was then, first hear of you?
He was in Downham Market. I was caretaker for the Reverend George Lattimer, and Sir Charles, I should say, Mr Thorold, came to see the house. I think he thought of buying it, but he didnt buy it. I showed him into every room, I remember, and as he was leaving he put his hand into his pocket, pulled out a sovrin, and gave it to me, just as you have done. And then he said to me, he said: Ole man, he said, would you like a better job than this? Those were his very words, Ole man, would you like a better job than this?
He grinned and chuckled at the reflection, showing his toothless gums.
And then he took you into his service. Did you come to London at once?
Ay, next week he brought me up, and Ive been here ever since in this house ever since. The Reverend George Lattimer wor vexed with Sir Charles for a stealing me from his service, as he said. I mind in Diss, when
Was there any reason why Mr Thorold should engage you in such a hurry? Did he give any reason? It seems strange he should have engaged a man of your age, living away in Norfolk, and brought you up to London at a few days notice.
Oh, yes there was reason there was a reason.
And what was it?
Well, well, it was not praps xactly what you might call a reason, it was what Sir Charles he calls a stipilation. I have a stipilation to make, Taylor, he said, when he engaged me. Yes, sir, I said, and what might this, this stipilation be? I said. Its like this, Taylor, he said. Ill engage you and pay you well, and you will come with me to Lundon to-morrow, and you shall have two comfortable rooms in my house, those were his very words, sir, and you will have little work to do, cept when I am out of Lundon, and you have to look after the house and act as caretaker. But there be a stipilation I must make. And what might that stipilation be, sir? I asked him. Its like this, he said, a looking rather hard at me. You must never see or know anything that goes on in my Lundon ouse, when I am there, or when I am not. If you see or hear anything, you must forget it. Do you understand? Do we understand each other? he said. And I have done that, sir, ever since Sir Charles engaged me. Never have I seen what happened in this house, nor have I heard what happened in this house, nor known what happened in this house. I have kep the stipilation, and Ive served the master well.
And for serving your master well, and doing your duty, you are rewarded by getting kicked out at a months notice because of your advanced age.
The old mans eyes became suddenly moist as I said this, and I felt sorry I had spoken.
Did you see or hear much you ought to have forgotten? I hazarded, after a brief pause.
He peered up at me with an odd expression, then slowly shook his head.
Have you actually forgotten all you saw and heard? I inquired carelessly, as I lit a cigarette, or do you only pretend?
I dusnt say, sir, he answered. I dusnt say.
He looked to right and left, as it seemed to me instinctively, and as though to assure himself that no one else was present, that no one overheard him. It was evident to me that there was somebody he feared.
Several times I tried tactfully to draw him, but to no purpose.
I should like to look over the house again, I said at last. I know it well, for I stayed here often in days gone by, though I dont recollect ever seeing you here. How long is it since Sir Charles stayed here?
Three years come Lady Day, he answered.
And has the house been empty ever since? Has it never been sub-let?
Never. Sir Charles never would sub-let it, though there were some who wanted it.
Well, I will look over it, I think, I said, moving to rise. Im inclined to rent it myself; thats really why I am here.
He may, or may not, have believed the lie. Anyway, my suggestion filled him with alarm. He got up out of his chair.
You cant, you cant, he exclaimed, greatly perturbed. He pushed his skinny hand into his jacket-pocket, and I heard him clutch his bunch of keys. The doors are all locked all locked.
You have the keys; give them to me.
I dusnt, I dusnt, indeed. All, you are a genleman, sir, you wont take the keys from an old man, sir, I know you wont.
Sit down, I said, sharply.
Idle curiosity had prompted me to wish to go over the house. The old mans anxiety that I should not do so settled my determination. My thought travelled quickly.
Have you a drop of anything to drink that you can give me? I asked suddenly. I should like a little whisky or anything else will do.
Again the expression of dismay came into his old eyes.