The Black Bag by Louis Joseph Vance (best manga ereader .TXT) đ
- Author: Louis Joseph Vance
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trouble and having waited for the two adventurers to appear, had been
content with sight of them? He could hardly believe that of the woman; it
wasnât like her.
He started across the driveway, after the fiacre, but it was lost in a
tangle of side streets before he could make up his mind whether it was
worth while chasing or not; and, pondering the womanâs singular action, he
retraced his steps to the promenade rail.
Presently he told himself he understood. Dorothy was no longer of her
fatherâs party; he had a suspicion that Mulreadyâs attitude had made it
seem advisable to Calendar either to leave the girl behind, in England, or
to segregate her from his associates in Antwerp. If not lodged in another
quarter of the city, or left behind, she was probably traveling on ahead,
to a destination which he could by no means guess. And Mrs. Hallam was
looking for the girl; if there were really jewels in that gladstone bag,
Calendar would naturally have had no hesitation about intrusting them to
his daughterâs care; and Mrs. Hallam avowedly sought nothing else. How
the woman had found out that such was the case, Kirkwood did not stop to
reckon; unless he explained it on the proposition that she was a person of
remarkable address. It made no matter, one way or the other; he had lost
Mrs. Hallam; but Calendar and Mulready he could put his finger on; they had
undoubtedly gone off to the Alethea to confer again with Stryker,âthat
was, unless they proposed sailing on the brigantine, possibly at turn of
tide that night.
Panic gripped his soul and shook it, as a terrier shakes a rat, when he
conceived this frightful proposition.
In his confusion of mind he evolved spontaneously an entirely new
hypothesis: Dorothy had already been spirited aboard the vessel; Calendar
and his confederate, delaying to join her from enigmatic motives, were now
aboard; and presently the word would be, Up-anchor and away!
Were they again to elude him? Not, he swore, if he had to swim for it. And
he had no wish to swim. The clothes he stood in, with what was left of his
self-respect, were all that he could call his own on that side of the North
Sea. Not a boatman on the Scheldt would so much as consider accepting three
English pennies in exchange for boat-hire. In brief, it began to look as if
he were either to swim or ⊠to steal a boat.
Upon such slender threads of circumstance depends our boasted moral health.
In one fleeting minute Kirkwoodâs conception of the law of meum et tuum,
its foundations already insidiously undermined by a series of cumulative
misfortunes, toppled crashing to its fall; and was not.
He was wholly unconscious of the change. Beneath him, in a space between
the quays bridged by the gangway, a number of rowboats, a putative score,
lay moored for the night and gently rubbing against each other with the
soundless lift and fall of the river. For all that Kirkwood could determine
to the contrary, the lot lay at the mercy of the public; nowhere about was
he able to discern a figure in anything resembling a watchman.
Without a quiver of hesitationâmoments were invaluable, if what he feared
were trueâhe strode to the gangway, passed down, and with absolute
nonchalance dropped into the nearest boat, stepping from one to another
until he had gained the outermost. To his joy he found a pair of oars
stowed beneath the thwarts.
If he had paused to moralizeâwhich he didnâtâupon the discovery, he would
have laid it all at the door of his lucky star; and would have been wrong.
We who have never stooped to petty larceny know that the oars had been
placed there at the direction of his evil genius bent upon facilitating his
descent into the avernus of crime. Let us, then, pity the poor young man
without condoning his offense.
Unhitching the painter he set one oar against the gunwale of the next boat,
and with a powerful thrust sent his own (let us so call it for convenience)
stern-first out upon the river; then sat him composedly down, fitted the
oars to their locks, and began to pull straight across-stream, trusting to
the current to carry him down to the Alethea. He had already marked down
that vesselâs riding-light; and that not without a glow of gratitude to see
it still aloft and in proper juxtaposition to the river-bank; proof that it
had not moved.
He pulled a good oar, reckoned his distance prettily, and shipping the
blades at just the right moment, brought the little boat in under the
brigantineâs counter with scarce a jar. An element of surprise he held
essential to the success of his plan, whatever that might turn out to be.
Standing up, he caught the brigantineâs after-rail with both hands, one of
which held the painter of the purloined boat, and lifted his head above
the deck line. A short survey of the deserted after-deck gave him further
assurance. The anchor-watch was not in sight; he may have been keeping
well forward by Strykerâs instructions, or he may have crept off for forty
winks. Whatever the reason for his absence from the post of duty, Kirkwood
was relieved not to have him to deal with; and drawing himself gently in
over the rail, made the painter fast, and stepped noiselessly over toward
the lighted oblong of the companionway. A murmur of voices from below
comforted him with the knowledge that he had not miscalculated, this time;
at last he stood within striking distance of his quarry.
The syllables of his surname ringing clearly in his ears and followed by
Strykerâs fleeting laugh, brought him to a pause. He flushed hotly in the
darkness; the captain was retailing with relish some of his most successful
witticisms at Kirkwoodâs expenseâŠ. âYouâd ought toâve seed the wyeâe
looked at me!â concluded the raconteur in a gale of mirth.
Mulready laughed with him, if a little uncertainly. Calendarâs chuckle was
not audible, but he broke the pause that followed.
âI donât know,â he said with doubting emphasis. âYou say you landed him
without a penny in his pocket? I donât call that a good plan at all. Of
course, he ainât a factor, but ⊠Well, it mightâve been as well to give
him his fare home. He might make trouble for us, somehowâŠ. I donât mind
telling you, Capân, that youâre an ass.â
The tensity of certain situations numbs the sensibilities. Kirkwood had
never in his weirdest dreams thought of himself as an eavesdropper; he did
not think of himself as such in the present instance; he merely listened,
edging nearer the skylight, of which the wings were slightly raised, and
keeping as far as possible in shadow.
âOw, I sye!â the captain was remonstrating, aggrieved. ââOw was I to know
âe didnât âave it in for you? First off, when âe comes on board (Iâll sye
this for âim, âeâs as plucky as they myke âem), I thought âe was from the
Yard. Then, when I see wot a bally hinnocent âe was, I mykes up my mind
âeâs just some one youâve been ply inâ one of your little gymes on, and âoo
was lookinâ to square âis account. So I did âim proper.â
âEvidently,â assented Calendar dryly. âYouâre a bit of a heavy-handed
brute, Stryker. Personally Iâm kind of sorry for the boy; he wasnât a bad
sort, as his kind runs, and he was no fool, from what little I saw of
himâŠ. I wonder what he wanted.â
âPossibly,â Mulready chimed in suavely, âyou can explain what you wanted
of him, in the first place. How did you come to drag him into this
business?â
âOh, that!â Calendar laughed shortly. âThat was partly accident, partly
inspiration. I happened to see his name on the Pless register; heâd put
himself down as from âFrisco. I figured it out that he would be next door
to broke and getting desperate, ready to do anything to get home; and
thought we might utilize him; to smuggle some of the stuff into the States.
Once before, if youâll rememberâno; that was before we got together,
MulreadyâI picked up a fellow-countryman on the Strand. He was down and
out, jumped at the job, and we made a neat little wad on it.â
âThe more fool you, to take outsiders into your confidence,â grumbled
Mulready.
âOw?â interrogated Calendar, mimicking Strykerâs accent inimitably. âWell,
youâve got a heap to learn about this game, Mul; about the first thing
is that you must trust Old Man Know-it-all, which is me. Iâve run more
diamonds into the States, in one way or another, in my time, than you ever
pinched out of the shirt-front of a toff on the Empire Prom., before they
made the graft too hot for you and you came to take lessons from me in the
gentle art of living easy.â
âOh, cut that, cawnât you?â
âDelighted, dear boyâŠ. One of the first principles, next to profiting by
the admirable example I set you, is to make the fellows in your own line
trust you. Now, if this boy had taken on with me, I could have got a bunch
of the sparklers on my mere say-so, from old Morganthau up on Finsbury
Pavement. He does a steady business hoodwinking the Customs for the benefit
of his American clientsâand himself. And Iâdâve made a neat little profit
besides: something to fall back on, if this fell through. I donât mind
having two strings to my bow.â
âYes,â argued Mulready; âbut suppose this Kirkwood had taken on with you
and then peached?â
âThatâs another secret; youâve got to know your man, be able to size him
up. I called on this chap for that very purpose; but I saw at a glance he
wasnât our man. He smelt a nigger in the woodpile and most politely told
me to go to the devil. But if he had come in, heâdâve died before he
squealed. I know the breed; thereâs honor among gentlemen that knocks the
honor of thieves higherân a kite, the old saw to the contraryânothing
doingâŠ. You understand me, Iâm sure, Mulready?â he concluded with
envenomed sweetness.
âI donât see yet how Kirkwood got anything to do with Dorothy.â
âMiss Calendar to you, Mister Mulready!â snapped Calendar. âThere, there,
now! Donât get excitedâŠ. It was when the Hallam passed me word that a man
from the Yard was waiting on the altar steps for me, that Kirkwood came in.
He was dining close by; I went over and worked on his feelings until he
agreed to take Dorothy off my hands. If I had attempted to leave the place
with her, theyâdâve spotted me for sureâŠ. My compliments to you, Dick
Mulready.â
There came the noise of chair legs scraped harshly on the cabin deck.
Apparently Mulready had leaped to his feet in a rage.
âIâve told youââ he began in a voice thick with passion.
âOh, sit down!â Calendar cut in contemptuously. âSit down, dâyou hear?
Thatâs all over and done with. We understand each other now, and you wonât
try any more monkey-shines. Itâs a square deal and a square divide, so
farâs Iâm concerned; if we stick together thereâll be profit enough for all
concerned. Sit down, Mul, and have another slug of the captainâs bum rum.â
Although Mulready consented to be pacified, Kirkwood got the impression
that the man was far gone in drink. A moment later he heard him growl
âChin-chin!â antiphonal to
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