It was in the early afternoon following our leaving Paris that we reached Naples. By this time, in spite of our endeavours to prevent it, Miss Kitwater was quite tired out. She certainly pretended not to be, but it was difficult, if not impossible, for her to conceal the fact. Immediately on arrival we conveyed her to the best hotel, of the proprietor of which, Leglosse had already made inquiries, in order to find out whether or not Hayle had taken up his abode there.
It was with relief that we discovered that no person answering at all to his description was located there. That done we commenced our search for the man we wanted. We decided to first try the offices of the various steamers plying across the Mediterranean to Port Said. Considerably to our amazement, however, we happened to be successful at the first cast. A man signing himself Henry Gifford had applied for a first-class passage to Colombo, with the intention of changing at that port into another steamer for Hong Kong.
“What was he like?” I inquired of the clerk; “and did anything strike you as peculiar about him or his appearance?”
“Well, there was one thing,” he said. “And at the time I must say I thought it funny. When I asked him his name, he began ‘Gideon,’ and then suddenly corrected himself and said ‘Henry Gifford.’ I remember wondering whether he was using a false name or not. He booked his passage at the last moment, and seemed in a great hurry to get aboard — being afraid he would miss the boat.”
I questioned him as to the man’s general appearance, and when I had learned all he had to tell us, I was perfectly satisfied in my own mind that Hayle was the man who had gone aboard.
“He didn’t lose much time,” said Leglosse. “Mark my words, he’ll leave the steamer at Port Said, and will either come back on his own tracks, or go up the Palestine Coast to Jaffa, and thence back to Europe. What do you think is the best thing to be done?”
“See the agent of the company here and get him to telegraph to Port Said,” I answered. “Both to their agent there and the captain of the steamer. If the captain telegraphs back that Gifford is our man, we must wire to the police authorizing them to detain him pending our arrival. There is a bit of risk attached to it, but if we want to catch him we must not think of that.”
We accordingly interviewed the agent and placed the case before him. We told him who we were, and Leglosse explained to him that he held a warrant for the arrest of one Gideon Hayle, an individual whom he had every reason to believe was endeavouring to escape under the assumed name of Henry Gifford. The clerk was next called in, and gave his evidence, and these matters having been settled, the telegrams were despatched to both the captain and the agent.
Some four days we knew must certainly elapse before we could receive a reply, and that time was devoted to searching the city for Kitwater and Codd. That they had not booked passages in the same boat in which Hayle had sailed, we soon settled to our satisfaction. In that case we knew that they must be domiciled in Naples somewhere. In the intervals between our search Leglosse and I used our best endeavours to make Miss Kitwater enjoy her stay. We took her to Pompeii, climbed Vesuvius together, visited Capri, Ischia, the Great Museum, the King’s Palace, and dined together every evening. I had not been acquainted with the girl much more than a fortnight, and yet I felt as if I had known her all my life, and the greater my experience of her was, the better I liked her. As for Leglosse, he outdid himself in his devotion. He made the most extraordinary toilets in her honour, and on one occasion went even so far as to inform me that, if all Englishwomen were like this particular specimen, he would say good-bye to his beloved Paris, and cross the Channel never to return again.
At last the eventful day arrived, and from nine till twelve we called repeatedly at the office for the telegram that was to mean so much to us. It was not, however, until the afternoon was well advanced that a message was received. I could have taken my stick to the agent for the slowness with which he opened the envelope. The clerk was called in, the code translated, and the message presently transcribed.
“This, gentlemen,” he said at last, pointing to the telegram, “is from our agent in Port Said, and is as follows —
“Gifford, small man, grey hair, and wears spectacles. No scar on face, cannot find first-class passenger with one. Fear you have been deceived.”
“Confound the fellow,” I cried, “he’s done us again. What’s worse, we’ve wasted four precious days waiting for this message. What shall we do now?”
“Look for him elsewhere,” said Leglosse. “If he didn’t go by that boat, he might have left by another.”
We thanked the agent for his courtesy, and were about to leave the office when another telegram was handed in. We waited to see whether it was from the captain, and presently found that we were not destined to be disappointed. Once more the agent consulted his code, transcribed the message, and read it to us.
“Have interviewed Gifford, threatened him with the police for using passage booked by another person. He confesses having been induced by stranger such as you describe to accept passage Colombo. How shall I act?”
“We’ve been done again,” I cried, bringing my fist down with a thump upon the table. “It’s only another proof of Hayle’s cleverness. The ingenuous rascal books his passage here, knowing very well that it will be one of the first places at which we shall make inquiries, lets fall a ‘Gideon’, and then transfers his ticket to somebody else. I suppose he didn’t bargain for my getting out of that house in time to follow him, and to telegraph to Port Said. Now that we are certain that he did not go that way, we must try and find out in what direction he did proceed.”
“And also what has become of the blind man and his companion,” said Leglosse. “They may be hot upon his trail, and if we can only discover them, and keep an eye on them, we may find out all we want to know. But it is likely to prove a difficult task.”
We tried the various shipping offices, without success. We called at every hotel, important or otherwise, questioned the City Police, who assured us they had seen nothing of the men we described and finally were compelled to own ourselves thoroughly well beaten. Leglosse’s face was the picture of despair, and I fear mine was not much better. We inserted advertisements in the papers, but with no more luck than before. From the moment the trio had entered Naples, they seemed to have vanished entirely. Then one evening, a ragged little urchin called at the hotel and asked to see us. In reply to our questions, he informed us that he had seen two Englishmen only the day before, such as the police said we were inquiring for; one of them was blind, the other dumb. Indeed he was sure of this, for the reason that he had carried their bag for them down to the harbour whence the Palermo boat sailed. We pricked up our ears on hearing this. If his story was correct, and Kitwater and Codd had visited Sicily, then without a doubt Hayle must have gone there too. But we had no desire to allow ourselves to be taken in again. It might be another of Hayle’s tricks, and for this reason we questioned the boy more closely; he adhered, however, to his story without a variation. His description of the men was perfect in every respect, and he assured us most emphatically that he knew nothing of any individual with such a scar upon his face as Hayle possessed. At last we became convinced that his story was genuine, and we rewarded the boy accordingly. After he had disappeared we informed Miss Kitwater of the discovery we had made.
“You will follow them to Palermo?”
“Assuredly, mademoiselle,” Leglosse replied. “I have my duty to perform.”
“Then I must go with you,” she answered. “If he is on the island the chase must be drawing to a close, and I must be present to protect him, if possible, against himself.”
Accordingly next morning, for the steamer for that day had long since sailed, we set out for the kingdom of Sicily, that gem among Islands, as Goethe terms it. It was the first time Miss Kitwater had seen the southern coast, and for this reason I made her promise that she would rise early next morning in order that she might witness our approach to the far-famed island. This she did, and side by side we watched the vessel draw closer to the land. Away to the west lay the island of Ustica, its outline sharply defined in the clear morning air.
“How beautiful it all is!” she said, “and to think that we are sailing such lovely seas upon such an errand.”
“You must try not to think about it,” I said. “ ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ Let us hope that it will all come right in the end. If only Leglosse can get hold of Hayle first, your uncle cannot possibly do him any harm, however much disposed he may be that way. Between us we ought to be able to manage that.”
Shortly after breakfast we obtained our first glimpse of Sicily. It was a scene never to be forgotten. The blue seas, the towering mountains rising apparently out of it, made up a picture that was lovely beyond compare. Presently we steamed into the harbour, and made our way to the Dogana, where our luggage was examined. Here we commenced our inquiries concerning Kitwater and Codd, and had the satisfaction of learning, on undeniable authority, that the story the boy had told us was correct. Such terrible infirmities as theirs could scarcely fail to attract notice, and more than one of the officials remembered seeing and commiserating them. On leaving the Dogana, they had travelled to the city by cab, so we were informed.
“The man who drove them is outside now,” said one of them. “Perhaps the se?or would care to question him.”
I replied that I should like very much to do so, and we accordingly went out into the street together. It appeared that the cabman remembered his fares perfectly, the more so by reason of the fact that the blind man had sworn at him for not using greater speed in reaching the city. He had driven them to some furnished lodgings kept by his cousin, he said, and was proceeding to recommend them to us, when I cut him short by informing him that we had already decided upon a hotel. We thereupon entered the vehicle, he mounted the box, and we set off. From the moment that we had set foot ashore Miss Kitwater had been growing more and more nervous. When it was taken into consideration that before nightfall some very unpleasant things might happen, I do not think this fact is to be wondered at. I pitied her from the bottom of my heart, and was prepared to do all that lay in my power to help her. It was a strange change for her, from the quiet little village of Bishopstowe, to the pursuit of a criminal across Europe to an island in the Mediterranean.
“And when it is over?” was the question I asked myself on numerous occasions. “What is going to happen then? I suppose I shall bid her good-bye, she will thank me for the trouble I have taken, and then our acquaintance will be at an end.”
After that it had become my habit to heave a prodigious sigh, and to wonder whether she could ever be induced to----
But somehow I never got much further with my speculations. Was it likely she would ever think twice of me? She was invariably kind and thoughtful; she deferred to me on everything, and seemed to think my opinions and actions must of necessity be right. Apart from that I felt certain I had made no other impression upon her.
“Now, mon ami,” said Leglosse, when we had installed ourselves at our hotel, “I think it would be better that you should efface yourself for a time. None of the men we are after know me, but Hayle and Codd would both recognize you at once. Let me go into the town to make a few inquiries, and if they are satisfactory we shall know how to act. Do your best to amuse mademoiselle, and I will hasten back to you as soon as I have anything to tell.”
Upon my consenting to this arrangement he set off, leaving me free to devote myself to the amusement of Miss Kitwater. As soon as she joined me we made our way into the garden of the hotel, and seating ourselves on a comfortable bench, spent the remainder of the morning basking in the sunshine, and watching the exquisite panorama that was spread out before us.
“I wonder what they are doing at Bishopstowe now?” I said, and a moment later wished I had held my tongue.
“Poor little Bishopstowe,” my companion answered. “How thankful I shall be to get safely back to it! I don’t think I shall ever want to travel............