Caught in a Trap Part 31

"No monish, but vat der shoot vood have bringsh."

"And it is all gonesh?"

"Ja, tso! all gonesh if de lettersh be true!"

"And ve vood 'ave got tree tousaud, Sholomonshon?"

"Ja! tree tousand pound! der villainsh! der swindlersh! Tree tousand poundsh, and look'd as shafe as der bank! Tree tousand poundsh; never no moresh!"

The Jew repeated this over and over again, and almost wept in his anguish. It should have been mentioned before that Solomon was a Hebrew of Teutonic proclivities, and had emigrated from the _Juden Stra.s.se_ in Berlin, where he had originally belonged before he took up with his partner Isaacs and set up business in Chancery Lane, London.

After a hasty consultation Solomonson and Isaacs rushed off together to the offices of Messrs. Trump, Sequence, and Co., to hear whether the ill-fated news was true.

Any hopes they might have had were quickly dispelled. Mr Trump, who could not repress his dislike for the men who now confronted him, did not mince matters with them. He showed them all the proofs, and gave them the additional evidence that Markworth himself had been there at his especial notification, and was satisfied that the opposition was too great for him to continue the suit.

Solomonson and Isaacs were not satisfied until they had read every t.i.ttle of the evidence, including Roger Hartshorne's will, the baptismal certificate of Susan, and the marriage registry. It was all perfectly true, so they then heaped reproaches on Mr Trump for letting Markworth know before communicating with them. Indeed, they were both so violent that Mr Trump had to order them out of his office. They saw it was all up with them, and returned chagrined to their own den in Chancery Lane, to concert about what more should they do.

They had no doubt that Markworth would be off early, but it was their business to try and catch him if possible. Never let it be said in Jewry that a debtor got off clear from their clutches: it would be a standing reproach against them from Dan even unto Beersheba, and they would never hear the end of it. Besides the money, the money, they could not afford to lose that!

Once more the scene changes back to their den of usury. Solomonson had just taken out the bills Markworth had given from an escritoire in the corner of the room, and both he and Isaacs are pondering them over, and looking at the shares securities that their client had given them for the advance. The shares were in a financial company whose smash they had just read of in that morning's paper! This news added "bad" to "worse."

"Fader Abrahamsh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Solomonson. "Oh der villainsh! der shvindlersh! Tree tousand pounds, Isaacs, all gonesh!" and they bewailed their fate in concert.

Behold the children of Israel weeping and wailing, and making much lamentation over the loss of the presumptive three thousand pounds, which they would have gained if Markworth had won his suit against the old dowager of The Poplars. To them enters Clara Kingscott, governess, at present detective, Nemesis, and follower of their unlucky client.

Affecting meeting.

She went like another Ruth to glean what she could towards affecting her purpose in the fields of the rich Boaz. The Hebrews, although sharp enough, were at their wits' end when Miss Kingscott entered, but she quickly worked them up to the point of action, after explaining the reason of her visit.

"The news is true enough," she said. "I was there and heard it all-- when that letter was written to you; but have you not sent round yet to those lawyers? what do you propose to do?"

"d.o.o.s.h? Vat can ve d.o.o.s.h! der shoot is gone! and der svindlersh is gone too, and he has no monish!" said Solomonson, in the most lugubrious tones.

"Why don't you act?" said the governess, excitedly. "If I were a man I would arrest him and clap him into jail, and let him rot there until I got my money back. If I could not get my money I would get his life!"

"De womansh is right, Sholomonshon, my shon," said Isaacs.

"Of course I am. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth--that is your creed, is it not? Can't you get out a warrant against that villain, or something else, and have him stopped before he leaves the country? Why even I will go after him: he shall never escape my hate!"

"Ja, tso!" exclaimed Solomonson, now fired by her words and animated by her desire for vengeance; "but a varrantsh ish no goots!"

"A Kay shay?" suggested Isaacs.

"Ja, dat is goot--der villainsh! But he was alvays squaresh vas mishter M., and it seems hart."

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Clara Kingscott, with intense scorn. "Do you think he will pay you if you let him get away?"

That settled any lingering reluctance they might have had to proceed to extremities with their client, besides the loss of the money was rankling in their minds; so "Mishter Sholomonshon" started off down to the courts at Westminster to invoke the aid of her gracious Majesty "Victoria R. by the grace of G.o.d" in a doc.u.mentary form.

While the Hebrews were concerting measures for Markworth's apprehension, Clara Kingscott proceeded down to his hotel to see whether the "biter"

had yet been "bitten," and if he had returned from the interview appointed with Mr Trump.

She found he had come, and gone. The bird had flown! The porter said he had left in a cab with all his luggage for the Waterloo Station.

Making sure he was off to Havre, where she had previously found out his address, she started off to Southampton, intending to follow him wherever he went. Before doing this she sent a few hasty lines to Messrs. Solomonson and Isaacs by a _commissionaire_, telling them where Markworth was gone and she would follow him up, and let them know further; although certainly her information would not be of much use to them if he were out of the kingdom.

The Jews in the meanwhile were crying "Havoc!" and trying very hard to "let loose the dogs of war." They had some difficulty in obtaining their _ca ca_. No Judge was at chambers when they first went down; and then they lost much valuable time in swearing to an affidavit that Markworth was going to leave the country. Not that the fact of swearing any number of oaths, whether true or false, troubled them much--but he was "gone," as the auctioneer cries, before they could touch him on the shoulder.

A bailiff and detective were sent down after the absconding debtor to Southampton--Miss Kingscott had telegraphed up to the Jews late in the evening to say that she had seen him there; but they arrived too late, notwithstanding that the Jews had not spared the expense of luring a special train for them: they never grudged money when hunting money.

But they arrived too late! The _ca ca_ and _ne exeat regno_ were both useless.

Just as the Havre steamer had cast loose her fastenings, and was going out into the stream, the myrmidons of the law came down with the warrant for Markworth's arrest: the proverb "better late than never" did not hold true in their case, however, for the man they were after could laugh them to scorn with every revolution of the steamboat's paddles.

Jewry was "sold" by the Gentile, and there went up a wail in Chancery Lane.

Volume 3, Chapter III.

ON THE TRAIL.

It was not until late in the morning that Clara Kingscott was let out of the cell in the police-station, where she had been locked up, and was taken to be examined before _Monsieur le Chef des sergents de ville_.

Although she was full of natural indignation at the treatment that she met with, to gain her purpose, she was forced to dissemble her anger, and answer all the questions put to her in a cool and collected manner.

Having taken care also to arrange her toilette and efface the traces of bedragglement, her appearance had its due effect, and Monsieur le Chef comprehended the case in a moment.

It was a mistake arising from the want of perspicacity of an over-zealous officer, and the Chef entreated Madame--he begged pardon, Mademoiselle--to accept a hundred thousand apologies for the unfortunate mistake which had subjected her to such treatment.

_Trop de zele_ was poor satisfaction for being arrested, locked up, and losing her vengeance; but Mademoiselle smiled sweetly, told the officer not to mention it, and now that she had gained his ear went on eagerly to tell her tale.

The Chef listened attentively to Miss Kingscott's narration, making short notes in a memorandum book before him, knitting his brows, glancing at her every now and then interrogatively with his sharp pistolling eyes, and pulling the waxed ends of his black moustache _a l'Empereur_ meditatively as she proceeded with her strange recital.

It did not astonish the Chef, however. The French police are never astonished, _Le Garde meurt, mais ne se rend pas_: Monsieur le Chef was only perplexed, but his perplexity grew greater the more he heard.

That a murder should have been committed anywhere was not such a very surprising thing in itself; but that a murder should take place in Havre, Havre which was under his own especial supervision, _c'etait impossible_! It was a thing incredible.

It was absurd on the face of it. His _sergents de ville_ knew their duty too well to allow it; but still he interrogated Mademoiselle, and put down the answers she gave to his various questions in his note book.

All the circ.u.mstances of the case should be looked into and investigated, although they certainly seemed incredible. It struck the Chef, however, that Mademoiselle's narrative was too clear and succinct to be made up: besides, a few initiatory inquiries would readily reveal whether her premises were true or false.

The Chef touched a hand-bell on his table, and a subordinate officer quickly answered the summons. To him some directions were given, in a low earnest voice, so low that Miss Kingscott could not catch their purport: the man then withdrew.

"_Attendez un moment, Mademoiselle, il reviendra bientot_," said the Chef, in an apologetic tone.

Miss Kingscott had to wait nearly half-an-hour until the messenger came back.

More whispering with the Chef, and comparing of note books; the news was evidently important, for the latter looked grave and puzzled; but as soon as the underling withdrew, he again addressed the governess.

"I find you have told me the truth about yourself," he commenced.

"Your politeness is great to have doubted my word: I thought all Frenchmen were renowned for their gallantry!" interposed the lady.