ONE morning I was engaged in the principal workroom with my employer. We were alone. Old File and his son were occupied in the garrets. Screw had been sent to Barkingham, accompanied, on the usual precautionary plan, by Mill. They had been gone nearly an hour when the doctor sent me into the next room to moisten and knead up some plaster of Paris. While I was engaged in this occupation, I suddenly heard strange voices in the large workroom. My curiosity was instantly excited. I drew back the little shutter from the peephole in the wall, and looked through it.
I saw first my old enemy, Screw, with his villainous face much paler than usual; next, two respectably-dressed strangers whom he appeared to have brought into the room; and next to them Young File, addressing himself to the doctor.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” said my friend, the workman-like footman; “but before these gentlemen say anything for themselves, I wish to explain, as they seem strangers to you, that I only let them in after I had heard them give the password. My instructions are to let anybody in on our side of the door if they can give the password. No offense, sir, but I want it to be understood that I have done my duty.”
“Quite right, my man,” said the doctor, in his blandest manner. “You may go back to your work.”
Young File left the room, with a scrutinizing look for the two strangers and a suspicious frown for Screw.
“Allow us to introduce ourselves,” began the elder of the two strangers.
“Pardon me for a moment,” interposed the doctor. “Where is Mill?” he added, turning to Screw.
“Doing our errands at Barkingham,” answered Screw, turning paler than ever.
“We happened to meet your two men, and to ask them the way to your house,” said the stranger who had just spoken. “This man, with a caution that does him infinite credit, required to know our business before he told us. We managed to introduce the password—‘Happy-go-lucky’—into our answer. This of course quieted suspicion; and he, at our request, guided us here, leaving his fellow-workman, as he has just told you, to do all errands at Barkingham.”
While these words were being spoken, I saw Screw’s eyes wandering discontentedly and amazedly round the room. He had left me in it with the doctor before he went out: was he disappointed at not finding me in it on his return?
While this thought was passing through my mind, the stranger resumed his explanations.
“We are here,” he said, “as agents appointed to transact private business, out of London, for Mr. Manasseh, with whom you have dealings, I think?”
“Certainly,” said the doctor, with a smile.
“And who owes you a little account, which we are appointed to settle.”
“Just so!” remarked the doctor, pleasantly rubbing his hands one over the other. “My good friend, Mr. Manasseh, does not like to trust the post, I suppose? Very glad to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Have you got the little memorandum about you?”
“Yes; but we think there is a slight inaccuracy in it. Have you any objection to let us refer to your ledger?”
“Not the least in the world. Screw, go down into my private laboratory, open the table-drawer nearest the window, and bring up a locked book, with a parchment cover, which you will find in it.”
As Screw obeyed I saw a look pass between him and the two strangers which made me begin to feel a little uneasy. I thought the doctor noticed it too; but he preserved his countenance, as usual, in a state of the most unruffled composure.
“What a time that fellow is gone!” he exclaimed gayly. “Perhaps I had better go and get the book myself.”
The two strangers had been gradually lessening the distance between the doctor and themselves, ever since Screw had left the room. The last words were barely out of his mouth, before they both sprang upon him, and pinioned his arms with their hands.
“Steady, my fine fellow,” said Mr. Manasseh’s head agent. “It’s no go. We are Bow Street runners, and we’ve got you for coining.”
“Not a doubt of it,” said the doctor, with the most superb coolness. “You needn’t hold me. I’m not fool enough to resist when I’m fairly caught.”
“Wait till we’ve searched you; and then we’ll talk about that,” said the runner.*
The doctor submitted to the searching with the patience of a martyr. No offensive weapon being found in his pockets, they allowed him to sit down unmolested in the nearest chair.
“Screw, I suppose?” said the doctor, looking inquiringly at the officers.
“Exactly,” said the principal man of the two. “We have been secretly corresponding with him for weeks past. We have nabbed the man who went out with him, and got him safe at Barkingham. Don’t expect Screw back with the ledger. As soon as he has made sure that the rest of you are in the house, he is to fetch another man or two of our Bow Street lot, who are waiting outside till they hear from us. We only want an old man and a young one, and a third pal of yours who is a gentleman born, to make a regular clearance in the house. When we have once got you all, it will be the prettiest capture that’s ever been made since I was in the force.”
What the doctor answered to this I cannot say. Just as the officer had done speaking, I heard footsteps approaching the room in which I was listening. Was Screw looking for me? I instantly closed the peephole and got behind the door. It opened back upon me, and, sure enough, Screw entered cautiously.
An empty old wardrobe stood opposite the door. Evidently suspecting that I might have taken the alarm and concealed myself inside it, he approached it on tiptoe. On tiptoe also I followed him; and, just as his hands were on the wardrobe door, my hands were on his throat. He was a little man, and no match for me. I easily and gently laid him on his back, in a voiceless and half-suffocated state—throwing myself right over him, to keep his legs quiet. When I saw his face getting black, and his small eyes growing largely globular, I let go with one hand, crammed my empty plaster of Paris bag, which lay close by, into his mouth, tied it fast, secured his hands and feet, and then left him perfectly harmless, while I took counsel with myself how best to secure my own safety.
I should have made my escape at once; but for what I heard the officer say about the men who were waiting outside. Were they waiting near or at a distance? Were they on the watch at the front or the back of the house? I thought it highly desirable to give myself a chance of ascertaining their whereabouts from the talk of the officers in the next room, before I risked the possibility of running right into their clutches on the outer side of the door.
I cautiously opened the peephole once more.
The doctor appeared to be still on the most friendly terms with his vigilant guardians from Bow Street.
“Have you any objection to my ringing for some lunch, before we are all taken off to London together?” I heard him ask in his most cheerful tones. “A glass of wine and a bit of bread and cheese won’t do you any harm, gentlemen, if you are as hungry as I am.”
“If you want to eat and drink, order the victuals at once,” replied one of the runners, sulkily. “We don’t happen to want anything ourselves.”
“Sorry for it,” said the doctor. “I have some of the best old Madeira in England.”
“Like enough,” retorted the officer sarcastically. “But you see we are not quite such fools as we look; and we have heard of such a thing, in our time, as hocussed wine.”
“O fie! fie!” exclaimed the doctor merrily. “Remember how well I am behaving myself, and don’t wound my feelings by suspecting me of such shocking treachery as that!”
He moved to a corner of the room behind him, and touched a knob in the wall which I had never before observed. A bell rang directly, which had a new tone in it to my ears.
“Too bad,” said the doctor, turning round again to the runners; “really too bad, gentlemen, to suspect me of that!”
Shaking his head deprecatingly, he moved back to the corner, pulled aside something in the wall, disclosed the mouth of a pipe which was a perfect novelty to me, and called down it.
“Moses!”
It was the first time I had heard that name in the house.
“Who is Moses?” inquired the officers both together, advancing on him suspiciously.
“Only my servant,” answered the doctor. He turned once more to th............