My Strangest Case Part 10

They thereupon thanked me and rose to go.

"By the way," I said, "does this man Hayle know that you are in England?"

The blind man shook his head.

"He thinks we are lying dead in the jungle," he said, "and it is not his fault that we are not. Did he suspect for a moment that we were alive and in the same country as himself, he'd be out of it like a rat driven by a ferret from his hole. But if you will give us your a.s.sistance, sir, we will make him aware of our presence before very long."

Though he tried to speak unconcernedly, there was an expression upon the man's face that startled me. I felt that, blind though he was, I should not care to be in Mr. Hayle's place when they should meet.

After they had left me I lit a cigar and began to think the matter over.

I had had a number of strange cases presented to me in my time, but never one that had opened in such a fas.h.i.+on as this. A man robs his friends in the centre of China; the latter are tortured and maimed for life, and come to me in London to seek out their betrayer for them, in whatever part of the globe he might be. The whole thing seemed so preposterous as to be scarcely worth consideration, and yet, try how I would to put it out of my mind, I found myself thinking of it continually. The recollection of the blind man's face and that of his dumb companion haunted me awake and asleep. More than once I determined to have nothing to do with them, only later to change my mind, and vow that I would see the matter through at any cost to myself.

Next morning, however, saner counsels prevailed. An exceedingly remunerative offer was made me by a prominent Trust Company, which, at any other time I should have had no hesitation in immediately accepting. Fate, however, which is generally more responsible for these matters than most folk imagine, had still a card to play upon Messrs.

Kit.w.a.ter and Codd's behalf, and it was destined to overthrow all my scruples, and what was more to ultimately revolutionize the conduct of my whole life.

CHAPTER III

Towards the middle of the morning I was sitting in my office, awaiting the coming of a prominent New York detective, with whom I had an appointment, when my clerk entered to inform me that a lady was in the outer office, and desired to see me if I could spare her a few minutes.

"Who is she?" I inquired. "Find out that, and also her business."

"Her name is Kit.w.a.ter," the man replied, when he returned after a moment's absence, "but she declines to state her business to any one but yourself, sir."

"Kit.w.a.ter?" I said. "Then she is a relation, I suppose, of the blind man who was here yesterday. What on earth can she have to say to me? Well, Lawson won't be here for another ten minutes, so you may as well show her in." Then to myself I added--"This is a development of the case which I did not expect. I wonder who she is,--wife, sister, daughter, or what, of the blind man?"

I was not to be left long in doubt, for presently the door opened and the young lady herself entered the room. I say '_young lady_,' because her age could not at most have been more than one-or two-and-twenty.

She was tall and the possessor of a graceful figure, while one glance was sufficient to show me that her face was an exceedingly pretty one.

(Afterwards I discovered that her eyes were dark brown.) I rose and offered her a chair.

"Good morning, Miss Kit.w.a.ter," I said. "This is an unexpected visit.

Won't you sit down?"

When she had done so I resumed my seat at the table.

"Mr. Fairfax," she began, "you are the great detective, I believe?"

I admitted the soft impeachment with as much modesty as I could a.s.sume at so short a notice. She certainly was a very pretty girl.

"I have come to talk to you about my uncle."

She stopped as if she did not quite know how to proceed.

"Then the gentleman who called upon me yesterday, and who has the misfortune to be blind, is your uncle?" I said.

"Yes! He was my father's younger and only brother," she answered. "I have often heard my father speak of him, but I had never seen him myself until he arrived in England, a month ago with his companion, Mr. Codd.

Mr. Fairfax, they have suffered terribly. I have never heard anything so awful as their experiences."

"I can quite believe that," I answered. "Your uncle told me something of their great trouble yesterday. It seems wonderful to me that they should have survived to tell the tale."

"Then he must have told you of Hayle, their supposed friend" (she spoke with superb scorn), "the man who betrayed them and robbed them of what was given them?"

"It was for that purpose that they called upon me," I answered. "They were anxious that I should undertake the search for this man."

She rested her clasped hands upon the table and looked pleadingly at me.

"And will you do so?"

"I am considering the matter," I said, with the first feeling of reluctance I had experienced in the case. "I have promised to give them my decision this afternoon."

"So they informed me, and that is why I am here," she replied. "Oh, Mr.

Fairfax, you don't know how I pity them! Surely if they could find this man his heart would be touched, and he would refund them a portion, at least, of what he took from them, and what is legally theirs."

"I am afraid it is very doubtful whether he will," I said, "even in the event of his being found. Gentlemen of his description are not conspicuous for their pity, nor, as a rule, will they disgorge unless considerable pressure of an unpleasant description is brought to bear upon them."

"Then that pressure must be brought to bear," she said, "and if I may say so, you are the only one who can do it. That is why I have called upon you this morning. I have come to plead with you, to implore you, if necessary, to take the matter up. I am not very rich, but I would willingly give all I have in the world to help them."

"In that case you are one niece in a thousand, Miss Kit.w.a.ter," I said, with a smile. "Your uncle is indeed fortunate in having such a champion."

She looked at me as if she were not quite certain whether I was joking or not.

"You will do this for them?"

What was I to say? What could I say? I had well nigh decided to have nothing to do with the matter, yet here I was, beginning to think it was hard upon me to have to disappoint her. My profession is not one calculated to render a man's heart over tender, but I must confess that in this case I was by no means as adamant as was usual with me. As I have said, she was an unusually pretty girl, and had she not been kind enough to express her belief in my powers! After all, detectives, like other people, are only human.

"Your uncle and his companion have promised to call upon me this afternoon," I said, "and when they do so, I think I may promise you that I will endeavour to come to some arrangement with them."

"I thank you," she said; "for I think that means that you will try to help them. If you do, I feel confident that you will succeed. I hope you will forgive me for having called upon you as I have done, but, when I saw how disappointed they were after their interview with you yesterday, I made up my mind that I would endeavour to see you and to interest you on their behalf before they came again."

"You have certainly done so," I answered, as she rose to go. "If I take the case up, and believe me I am not at all sure that I shall not do so, they will owe it to your intercession."

"Oh, no, I did not mean that exactly," she replied, blus.h.i.+ng prettily.

"I should like to feel that you did it for the reason that you believe in the justice of their cause, not merely because I tried to persuade you into it. That would not be fair, either to them or to you."

"Would it not be possible for it to be on account of both reasons?" I asked. "Let us hope so. And now good-morning, Miss Kit.w.a.ter. I trust your uncle will have good news for you when you see him again this afternoon."

"I hope so too," she answered, and then with a renewal of her thanks and a little bow she left the office.

I closed the door and went back to my seat, almost wondering at my own behaviour. Here was I, a hard-headed man of the world, being drawn into an extraordinary piece of business, which I had most certainly decided to have nothing to do with, simply because a pretty girl had smiled upon me, and had asked me to do it. For I don't mind confessing that I had made up my mind to help Kit.w.a.ter and Codd in their search for the villain Hayle. The Trust Company would have to look elsewhere for a.s.sistance. And yet, as I had the best of reasons for knowing, that piece of business was likely to prove twice as remunerative as this search for the traitorous friend. Happily, however money is not everything in this world.

During the remainder of the day I found myself looking forward with a feeling that was almost akin to eagerness, to the interview I was to have with Kit.w.a.ter and Codd that afternoon. If the two gentlemen had faults, unpunctuality was certainly not one of them, for the clock upon the mantelpiece had scarcely finished striking the hour of four, when I heard footsteps in the office outside, and next moment they were shown into my own sanctum. Codd came first, leading his friend by the hand, and as he did so he eyed me with a look of intense anxiety upon his face. Kit.w.a.ter, on the other hand, was dignified, and as impressive as ever. If he were nervous, he certainly concealed it very well.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fairfax," he said, as Codd led him to a seat.

"According to the arrangement we came to yesterday afternoon, we have come here to learn your decision which you promised to give us at four o'clock to-day. I trust you have good news for us."

"That depends upon how you take it," I answered. "I have made up my mind to help you on certain conditions."

"And those conditions?"