Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles Part 71

"I am going to Oxford at Easter, Mr. Ashley," cried Frank with animation.

"I am pleased to hear it."

"But only as a servitor. I don't mind," he added, throwing back his head with pardonable pride. "Let me once get a start, and I hope to rise above some who go there as gentlemen-commoners. I intend to make this my circuit," he went on, half jokingly, half seriously.

"You are ambitious, Frank. I heartily wish you success. There's nothing like keeping a good heart."

"Oh yes, success is not doubtful. I'll do battle with all the obstructions in my course. Good afternoon, sir."

William, curious and anxious, could make nothing of his books that night at home. At length he threw up, put on the notable cloak, and went down to the manufactory. He found Mr. Ashley there; and the counting-house soon received an addition to its company in the person of Sergeant Delves. He had come in search of William. Not being aware that William was allowed the privilege of spending his evenings at home, he had supposed the manufactory was the place to find him in.

"I want you down at White's," said the sergeant. "Put on your cloak, will you be so good, Mr. Halliburton, and come with me?"

"Do you suspect me?" was William's answer.

"No, I don't," returned the sergeant. "I told you before, to-day, that I did not. The fact is"--dropping his voice to a mysterious whisper--"I want to do a little bit of private inquiry on my own account. I have a clue to the party: and I should like to work it out."

"If you have a sufficient clue, the party had better be arrested at once," observed Mr. Ashley.

"Ah, but it's not sufficient for that," nodded the sergeant. "No, Mr.

Ashley, sir; my strong advice to you is, keep quiet a bit."

They started for the butcher's, William wearing his cloak and cap, and Mr. Ashley accompanying them. Mr. Ashley possessed his own curiosity upon various points; perhaps his own doubts.

"It is strange who this man can be who walks at the back of your house,"

observed Mr. Ashley to William, as they went along. "What can be his motive for walking there, dressed like you?"

"It is curious, sir."

"I should suppose it can only arise from a desire that he should be taken for you," continued Mr. Ashley. "But to what end? Why should he walk there at all?"

"Why, indeed!" responded William.

"What coloured gloves are you wearing?" abruptly interrupted Sergeant Delves.

William took his hands from beneath his cloak, and held them out. They were of the darkest possible colour, next to black; the shade called in the glove trade "corbeau." "These are all I have in use at present," he said. "They are nearly new."

"Have you worn any light gloves lately? Tan or fawn?"

"I scarcely ever wear tan gloves. I have not put on a pair for months."

They arrived at the butcher's and entered. White was standing at his block, chopping a bone in two. He lifted his head, and touched his hair to Mr. Ashley.

"Is this the gentleman who had the money of you for the cheque?" began Sergeant Delves, without circ.u.mlocution.

Mr. White put down his chopper, and took a survey of William. "It's like the cloak and cap that the other wore," said he.

Sergeants take up words quickly. "That the 'other' wore? Then you do not think it was this one?"

"No, I don't," decided the butcher. "The one who brought the cheque was a shorter man."

"Shorter!" repeated Mr. Ashley, remembering it had been said in his counting-house that the man who appeared to be personating William was thought to have the advantage the other way. "You mean taller, White."

"No, sir, I mean shorter. I am sure he was shorter. Not much, though."

There was a pause. "You observed that his gloves were tan, I think,"

said the sergeant.

"Something of that sort. Clean light gloves they were, such as gentlemen wear."

"Finally, then, White, you decide that this was not the gentleman?"

"Not he," said the butcher. "It's not the same voice."

"The voice goes for nothing," said Sergeant Delves. "The other one had plums in his mouth."

"Well," said the butcher, "I think I should have known Mr. Halliburton, in spite of any disguise, had he come in."

"Don't make too sure, White," said the sergeant, with one of his wise nods. "He who came might have turned out to be just as familiar to you as Mr. Halliburton, if he had let you see his face. The fact is, White, there's some one going about with a cloak like this, and we want to find out who it is. Mr. Halliburton would give a pound out of his pocket, I'm sure, to know."

"I'd give two," said Mr. Ashley, with a smile.

"Sir," asked the butcher of Mr. Ashley, "what about the money? Shall I lose it?"

"Now, White, just wait a bit," put in the sergeant. "If it was a gentleman that changed it, perhaps we shall get it out of _him_. Any way, you keep quiet."

They left the shop--standing a moment together before parting. The sergeant's road lay one way; Mr. Ashley's and William's another. "This only makes the matter more obscure," observed Mr. Ashley, alluding to what had pa.s.sed.

"Not at all. It makes it all the more clear," was the cool reply of the sergeant.

"White says the man was shorter than Mr. Halliburton."

"It's just what I expected him to say," nodded the sergeant. "If I am on the right scent--and I'd lay a thousand pound on it!--the man who changed the cheque _is_ shorter. I just wanted White's evidence on the point," he added, looking at William; "and that is why I asked you to come down, dressed in your cloak. Good night, gentlemen."

He turned up the Shambles. And Mr. Ashley and William walked away side by side.

CHAPTER XX.

IN THE STARLIGHT.

The conversation at Mr. Dare's dinner-table again turned upon the loss of the cheque, and the proceedings thereon. It was natural that it should turn upon it. Mr. Dare's mind was full of it; and he gave utterance to various conjectures and speculations, as they occurred to him.

"In spite of what they say, I cannot help thinking that it must have been William Halliburton," he remarked with emphasis. "He alone was in the counting-house when the cheque disappeared; and the person changing it at White's, is proved to have borne the strongest possible resemblance to him; at all events, to his dress. The face was hidden--as of course it would be. People who attempt to pa.s.s off stolen cheques, take pretty good care that their features are not seen.