The Thousandth Woman. Hornung Ernest William

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СКАЧАТЬ end will it be, then?"

      "The river end. That hat, or cap. Do you see what the gardener says about the man who ran out bareheaded? That gardener deserves to be cashiered for not getting a move on him in time to catch that man, even if he did think he'd only been swiping flowers. But if he went and left his hat or his cap behind him, that should be good enough in the long run. It's the very worst thing you can leave. Ever hear of Franz Müller?"

      Cazalet had not heard of that immortal notoriety, nor did his ignorance appear to trouble him at all, but it was becoming more and more clear that Hilton Toye took an almost unhealthy interest in the theory and practise of violent crime.

      "Franz Müller," he continued, "left his hat behind him, only that and nothing more, but it brought him to the gallows even though he got over to the other side first. He made the mistake of taking a slow steamer, and that's just about the one mistake they never did make at Scotland Yard. Give them a nice, long, plain-sailing stern-chase and they get there by bedtime – wireless or no wireless!"

      But Cazalet was in no mind to discuss other crimes, old or new; and he closed the digression by asserting somewhat roundly that neither hat nor cap had been left behind in the only case that interested him.

      "Don't be too sure," said Toye. "Even Scotland Yard doesn't show all its hand at once, in the first inquiry that comes along. They don't give out any description of the man that ran away, but you bet it's being circulated around every police office in the United Kingdom."

      Cazalet said they would give it out fast enough if they had it to give. By the way, he was surprised to see that the head gardener was the same who had been at Uplands in his father's time; he must be getting an old man, and no doubt shakier on points of detail than he would be likely to admit. Cazalet instanced the alleged hearing of the gong as in itself an unconvincing statement. It was well over a hundred yards from the gates to the house, and there were no windows to open in the hall where the gong would be rung.

      He sighed heavily as in his turn he looked out at the luxuriant little paddocks and the old tiled homesteads after every two or three. But he was not thinking of the weather-board and corrugated iron strewn so sparsely over the yellow wilds that he had left behind him. The old English panorama flew by for granted, as he had taken it before ever he went out to Australia. It was as though he had never been out at all.

      "I've dreamed of the old spot so often," he said at length. "I'm not thinking of the night before last – I meant in the bush – and now to think of a thing like this happening, there, in the old governor's den, of all places!"

      "Seems like a kind of poetic justice," said Hilton Toye.

      "It does. It is!" cried Cazalet, fetching moist yet fiery eyes in from the fields. "I said to you the other night that Henry Craven never was a white man, and I won't unsay it now. Nobody may ever know what he's done to bring this upon him. But those who really knew the man, and suffered for it, can guess the kind of thing!"

      "Exactly," murmured Toye, as though he had just said as much himself. His dark eyes twinkled with deliberation and debate. "How long is it, by the way, that they gave that clerk and friend of yours?"

      A keen look pressed the startling question; at least, it startled Cazalet.

      "You mean Scruton? What on earth made you think of him?"

      "Talking of those who suffered for being the dead man's friends, I guess," said Toye. "Was it fourteen years?"

      "That was it."

      "But I guess fourteen doesn't mean fourteen, ordinarily, if a prisoner behaves himself?"

      "No, I believe not. In fact, it doesn't."

      "Do you know how much it would mean?"

      "A little more than ten."

      "Then Scruton may be out now?"

      "Just."

      Toye nodded with detestable aplomb. "That gives you something to chew on," said he. "Of course, I don't say he's our man – "

      "I should think you didn't!" cried Cazalet, white to the lips with sudden fury.

      Toye looked disconcerted and distressed, but at the same time frankly puzzled. He apologized none the less readily, with almost ingenious courtesy and fulness, but he ended by explaining himself in a single sentence, and that told more than the rest of his straightforward eloquence put together.

      "If a man had done you down like that, wouldn't you want to kill him the very moment you came out, Cazalet?"

      The creature of impulse was off at a tangent. "I'd forgive him if he did it, too!" he exclaimed. "I'd move heaven and earth to save him, guilty or not guilty. Wouldn't you in my place?"

      "I don't know," said Hilton Toye. "It depends on the place you're in, I guess!" And the keen dark eyes came drilling into Cazalet's skull like augers.

      "I thought I told you?" he explained impatiently. "We were in the office together; he was good to me, winked at the business hours I was inclined to keep, let me down lighter in every way than I deserved. You may say it was part of his game. But I take people as I find them. And then, as I told you, Scruton was ten thousand times more sinned against than sinning."

      "Are you sure? If you knew it at the time – "

      "I didn't. I told you so the last night."

      "Then it came to you in Australia?" said Toye, with a smile as whimsical as the suggestion.

      "It did!" cried Cazalet unexpectedly. "In a letter," he added with hesitation.

      "Well, I mustn't ask questions," said Hilton Toye, and began folding up his newspaper with even more than his usual deliberation.

      "Oh, I'll tell you!" cried Cazalet ungraciously. "It's my own fault for telling you so much. It was in a letter from Scruton himself that I heard the whole thing. I'd written to him – toward the end – suggesting things. He managed to get an answer through that would never have passed the prison authorities. And – and that's why I came home just when I did," concluded Cazalet; "that's why I didn't wait till after shearing. He's been through about enough, and I've had more luck than I deserved. I meant to take him back with me, to keep the books on our station, if you want to know!" The brusk voice trembled.

      Toye let his newspaper slide to the floor. "But that was fine!" he exclaimed simply. "That's as fine an action as I've heard of in a long time."

      "If it comes off," said Cazalet in a gloomy voice.

      "Don't you worry. It'll come off. Is he out yet, for sure? I mean, do you know that he is?"

      "Scruton? Yes – since you press it – he wrote to tell me that he was coming out even sooner than he expected."

      "Then he can stop out for me," said Hilton Toye. "I guess I'm not running for that reward!"

      IV

      DOWN THE RIVER

      At Waterloo the two men parted, with a fair exchange of fitting speeches, none of which rang really false. And yet Cazalet found himself emphatically unable to make any plans at all for the next few days; also, he seemed in two minds now about a Jermyn Street hotel previously mentioned as his immediate destination; and his step was indubitably lighter as he went off first of all to the loop-line, to make sure of some train or other that he might have to take before the СКАЧАТЬ