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HOME > Classical Novels > The Mystery of M. Felix > CHAPTER XII. THE REPORTER OF THE "EVENING MOON" MAKES A DISCOVERY.
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CHAPTER XII. THE REPORTER OF THE "EVENING MOON" MAKES A DISCOVERY.
"On the evening of the 19th our reporter paid a visit to Mrs. Middlemore. Sophy opened the street door for him.

"'Hallo, old 'un,' said the girl, 'it's you, is it?'

"'Yes, Sophy,' said our reporter, 'here I am again.'

"'As large as life,' remarked Sophy, vivaciously, 'and twice as--no, I won't say that; you ain't arf a bad sort. What's yer little game this time, old 'un?'

"'Is Mrs. Middlemore in?' asked our reporter.

"'Yes, aunt's at 'ome. Do you want to see 'er?'

"'That's what I've come for, Sophy.'

"'Who's that, Sophy?' cried Mrs. Middlemore, from the bottom of the basement stairs.

"'It's the old 'un, aunt,' screamed Sophy.

"'Don't be absurd,' said our reporter, pinching Sophy's cheek. 'It is I, Mrs. Middlemore, the reporter from the Evening Moon.'

"'Come down, sir,' cried Mrs. Middlemore, 'if come you must. Don't stop talking to that 'uzzy.'

"Sophy put her tongue in her cheek, and whispering, 'Ain't she a treat?' preceded our reporter to the kitchen.

"'Good-evening, Mrs. Middlemore,' said our reporter.

"'Good-evening, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'Sophy, 'ave you shut the street door tight?'

"'As tight as a drum,' replied Sophy.

"'Mrs. Middlemore sank into a chair with a heavy sigh, and our reporter took a seat opposite her. There was a jug of beer on the table.

"'Will you 'ave a glass, sir?' asked Mrs. Middlemore, hospitably.

"'No, thank you; I have just dined, and I thought I would come and have a chat with you in a general way.'

"'Thank 'eaven it's about nothing particular,' said Mrs. Middlemore, in a tone of manifest relief.

"'It may lead to something particular,' observed our reporter, genially. 'We're only on the threshold as yet.'

"'Stop a bit, sir, please. Sophy!'

"'Yes, aunty dear,' responded the girl, in a tone of simulated sweetness.

"'If I let you go out for a walk, will you come back in arf an hour?'

"Sophy hesitated. Between her longing for a run in the streets and her longing to hear what our reporter had to say, she felt herself in a difficulty.

"'Well, now,' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, sharply.

"'Oh, aunty dear,' said Sophy, pressing the bosom of her frock, and pretending to be greatly startled at her aunt's sharp voice, you send my 'eart into my mouth.'

"'Will you promise not to stop out longer than an hour?'

"Mrs. Middlemore's anxiety to get rid of her decided the girl. For once she would forego the temptations of the streets.

"'Don't want to go out,' she said, shortly.

"'But you've got to go,' said Mrs. Middlemore, resenting this opposition to her authority, 'or I'll bundle you out for good, neck and crop. Promise, like a good girl.'

"'Shan't promise,' said Sophy, rebelliously.

"'Oh, dear, oh, dear,' moaned Mrs. Middlemore. 'What am I to do with her? And after all the nice things you said of her this morning, sir?'

"'Did you say nice things of me?' asked Sophy, of our reporter.

"'I did, Sophy,' he replied, 'and I'm sure you will do as your aunt tells you.'

"'That settles it. I'll go. 'Ow long for, aunty?'

"'An hour. Not a minute more.'

"'I say'--to our reporter--'you might lend us yer watch. Then I shouldn't make any mistake.'

"'Get along with you,' said our reporter, laughing. 'The shops are full of clocks.'

"'Thank yer for nothing,' said Sophy, proceeding to array herself. Spitting on the palm of her hand, she made a pretence of smoothing her hair. Then she looked at herself in a piece of looking-glass that was hanging on the wall, and turned her head this way and that, smirking most comically. Then she shook out her skirts, and looked over her shoulder to see that they hung becomingly. Then she tied a piece of string round one yawning boot. Then she put on her head something in straw that once might have been called a hat, but which had long since forfeited all claims to respectability. Then she fished out a poor little scarf, about six inches square, and pinned it round her shoulders with a coquettishness not devoid of grace. Her toilette completed, she asked--

"'Will I do?'

"'Very nicely, Sophy,' said our reporter. But although he spoke gayly he was stirred by a certain pity for this little waif, who was so conspicuously animated by a spirit to make the best of things--a spirit which might with advantage be emulated by her betters--and who made a joke even of her poverty and rags.

"'Much obliged,' said Sophy. 'Give us a kiss, aunty. Now I'm off.'

"And off she was, but not without saluting our reporter with an elaborate courtesy.

"Mrs. Middlemore waited till she heard the street-door slam, and then said,

"'Did you ever see the likes of her?'

"'I declare to you, my dear madam,' said our reporter, 'that the more I see of Sophy the more I like her. What have the police done? Anything?'

"'Nothing, sir. I went and told 'em what 'ad 'appened, and two policemen came and looked at the bed, looked under it, looked in every room as you said they would, looked at me, and went away.'

"'And they have not been here again?'

"'No, sir.'

"'Mrs. Middlemore, may I have another peep in M. Felix's rooms?'

"'Certainly, sir.'

"They went up together, Mrs. Middlemore breathing heavily, perfuming the air with a flavor of beer. There was an escritoire in the sitting-room, and our reporter examined it.

"'I'll tell you what I'm looking for,' he said. 'I see pens, ink, and paper, denoting that M. Felix was occasionally in the habit of using them, but there is not a scrap of paper about with his writing on it. There is not even a monogram on the note paper. If we could find something, it might furnish a clue. He received letters, I suppose?'

"'Oh, yes, sir.'

"'And the presumption is that he answered them. Did you ever post any of his letters?'

"'Never once, sir.'

"'Here is a waste-paper basket; there must have been in it, at odd times, scraps of the letters he received and spoilt sheets of his own. Has your dust bin been emptied this week?'

"'No, sir, but you wouldn't find anything of Mr. Felix's in it. It was one of his orders that whatever was in the waste-paper basket should be burnt here in his own fireplace. I used to sweep this room in the morning when he was in bed, and he always said I did my work so quietly that he was never disturbed by any noise.'

"'Look round the room, Mrs. Middlemore, and see if you miss anything. You would be pretty well acquainted with everything in it. What is the meaning of that gasp? You do miss something?'

"'There was another desk, sir, and I don't see it.'

"'What kind of desk?'

"'A small one, sir, that used to smell quite nice.'

"'Ah, made of cedar wood, no doubt. Did M. Felix keep his papers in this desk?'

"'Some of his papers, sir.'

"'How do you know that?'

"'I've come into the room when he's rung for me, and saw the desk open.'

"'Ocular proof, Mrs. Middlemore.'

"'What sort's that, sir?'

"'Visible to the eye--your eye, my dear madam.'

"'Yes, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, dubiously.

"'Now, Mrs. Middlemore, can you inform me whether those papers you saw in the missing desk were private papers?'

"'It ain't possible for me to say, sir.'

"'Neither can you say, I suppose, whether M. Felix set any particular store upon them?'

"'Well, sir, now you bring me to it, things come to my mind.'

"'Exactly.'

"'Whenever I come into the room,' said Mrs. Middlemore, 'and the desk was open, Mr. Felix used to shut it up quick.'

"'Lest you should see them too closely?'

"'I'm sure I shouldn't 'ave made no use of 'em; least of all, bad use.'

"'That is not the point. He closed the desk quickly when another person was by, with an evident wish to keep all possible knowledge of them to himself.'

"'It looks like that. You do push a thing close.'

"Our reporter accepted this as a compliment, and continued:

"'That appears to establish the fact that this desk--which probably was brought from India, Mrs. Middlemore--contained M. Felix's private papers?'

"'It do, sir,' said Mrs. Middlemore, admiringly.

"'And, therefore, papers of importance. The desk was inlaid with silver, Mrs. Middlemore.'

"'Lor', sir!' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, doubtless regarding our reporter as a man who dealt in enchantments. 'How did you find out that?'

"'It was, was it not?'

"'Yes, sir, it was.'<............
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