Johnny Ludlow Third Series Part 16

"You are a great fool, Cook.u.m. I've told you that I mean no harm to you or to any one in the place; so to make this fuss is needless. You may have a band of felons concealed here, or a cart-load of stolen goods; they are all safe for me. But if you force me to bring in the police it might be a different matter."

Perhaps the argument told on the man; perhaps the tone of reason it was spoken in; but he certainly seemed to hesitate.

"You can't prove that to me, sir: not that there's any felons or things in here. Show me that you don't mean harm, and you shall go on."

"Have you a stolen child here?"

Cook.u.m's mouth opened with genuine surprise. "A stolen child!"

"We have lost a little boy. I have reason to think that a man who was seen to enter this pa.s.sage in the middle of the night knows something of him, and I have come to ask and see. Now you know all. Let me go on."

The relief on the man's face was great. "Honour bright, sir."

"Don't stand quibbling, man," roared Tod pa.s.sionately. "YES!"

"I've got but one man in all the place. He have no boy with him, he haven't."

"But he may know something of one. What's his name?"

"All the name he've given me is Jack."

"I dare say it's the same. Come! you are wasting time."

But Cook.u.m, doubtful still, never moved. They were close to the door now, and he had his back against it. Tod turned his head.

"Go for the two policemen, Johnny. They are both in readiness, Cook.u.m.

I looked in at the station as I came by, to say I might want them."

Before I could get out, Cook.u.m howled out to me _not_ to go, as one in mortal fear. He took a latch-key from his pocket, and put it into the latch of the door, which had no other fastening outside, not even a handle. "You can open it yourself," said he to Tod, and slipped away.

It might have been a sort of kitchen but that it looked more like a den, with nothing to light it but a dirty sky-light above. The floor was of red brick; a tea-kettle boiled on the fire; there was a smell of coffee. Alfred Arne stood on the defensive against the opposite wall, a life-preserver in his hand, and his thin hair on end with fright.

"I am here on a peaceable errand, if you will allow it to be so," said Tod, shutting us in. "Is your name Arne?"

Arne dropped the life-preserver into the breast-pocket of his coat, and came forward with something of a gentleman's courtesy.

"Yes, my name is Arne, Joseph Todhetley. And your mother--as I make no doubt you know--was a very near relative of mine. If you damage me, you will bring her name unpleasantly before the public, as well as your own and your father's."

That he thought our errand was to demand back the fifty pounds, there could be no doubt: perhaps to hand him into custody if he refused to give it up.

"I have not come to damage you in any way," said Tod in answer. "Where's Hugh?"

Arne looked as surprised as the other man had. "Hugh!"

"Yes, Hugh: my little brother. Where is he?"

"How can I tell?"

Tod glanced round the place; there was not any nook or corner capable of affording concealment. Arne gazed at him. He stood on that side the dirty deal table, we on this.

"We have lost Hugh since mid-day yesterday. Do you know anything of him?"

"Certainly _not_," was the emphatic answer, and I at least saw that it was a true one. "Is it to ask that, that you have come here?"

"For that, and nothing else. We have been up all night searching for him."

"But why do you come after him here? I am not likely to know where he is."

"I think you are likely."

"Why?"

"You have been talking to the boy about carrying him off with you to see coral islands. You hinted, I believe, to Mrs. Todhetley that you might really take him, if your demands were not complied with."

Arne slightly laughed. "I talked to the boy about the Coral Islands because it pleased him. As to Mrs. Todhetley, if she has the sense of a goose, she must have known I meant nothing. Take off a child with me!

Why, if he were made a present to me, I should only drop him at his own door at Crabb Cot, as they drop the foundlings at the gate of the Maison Dieu in Paris. Joseph Todhetley, I _could not_ be enc.u.mbered with a child: the life of shifts and concealment I have to lead would debar it."

I think Tod saw he was in earnest. But he stood in indecision: this dashed out his great hope.

"I should have been away from here last night, but that I got a drop too much and must wait till dark again," resumed Arne. "The last time I saw Hugh was on Thursday afternoon. He was in the meadow with _you_."

"I did not see you," remarked Tod.

"I saw you, though. And that is the last time I saw him. Don't you believe me? You may. I like the little lad, and would find him for you if I could, rather than help to lose him. I'd say take my honour upon this, Joseph Todhetley, only you might retort that it has not been worth anything this many a year."

"And with justice," said Tod, boldly.

"True. The world has been against me and I against the world. But it has not come yet with me to stealing children. With the loan of the money now safe in my pocket, I shall make a fresh start in life. A precious long time your step-mother kept me waiting for it."

"She did her best. You ought not to have applied to her at all."

"I know that: it should have been to the other side of the house. She prevented me: wanting, she said, to spare you and your father."

"The knowledge of the disgrace. Yes."

"There's no need to have recourse to hard names, Joseph Todhetley. What I am, I am, but you have not much cause to grumble, for I don't trouble you often. As many thousand miles away as the seas can put between me and England, I'm going now: and it's nearly as many chances to one against your ever seeing me again."

Tod turned to depart: the intensely haughty look his face wore at odd moments had been upon it throughout the interview. Had he been a woman he might have stood with his skirts picked up, as if to save them contamination from some kind of reptile. He stayed for a final word.

"Then I may take your answer in good faith--that you know nothing of Hugh?"

"Take it, or not, as you please. If I knew that I was going to stand next minute in the presence of Heaven, I could not give it more truthfully. For the child's own sake, I hope he will be found. Why don't you ask the man who owns the rooms?--he can tell you I have had no boy here. If you choose to watch me away to-night, do so; you'll see I go alone. A child with me! I might about as well give myself up to the law at once, for I shouldn't long remain out of its clutches, Joseph Todhetley."

"Good-morning," said Tod shortly. I echoed the words, and we were civilly answered. As we went out, Arne shut the door behind us. In the middle of the pa.s.sage stood Cook.u.m.

"Have you found he was who you wanted, sir?"

"Yes," answered Tod, not vouchsafing to explain. "Another time when I say I do not wish to harm you, perhaps you'll take my word."