Of High Descent Part 112

Comfortable, motherly woman. No nonsense."

"And what do you propose doing?"

"Let's hear first what you propose," shouted the old man, so as to make his voice heard above the rattle of the cab-windows--four-wheelers Jehu's enemies, which lose him many a fare.

"I have nothing to propose," said Leslie sadly; "only to find her."

"And I've given you twenty-four hours to think it out, including last night at Plymouth."

"My head is in a whirl, sir; I am in no condition to think. Pray suggest something."

"Hah! The old folks are useful, then, after all. Well, then, you would like to hear my plans?"

Leslie nodded.

"First, then, there is a good tea, with some meat; and while we are having that I shall send off a messenger."

"To find them?"

"No. Wait."

Leslie had found out that the best way to deal with Uncle Luke was to treat him like a conger-eel, such as they caught among the rocks about Hakemouth. Once hooked, if the fisher dragged at the line, the snaky monster pulled and fought till the line cut into the holder's hands, and sometimes was broken or the hook torn out; whereas, if instead of pulling, the creature had its head given, it began to swim up rapidly, and placed itself within reach of the gaff. So, in spite of his fretful irritation of mind, he allowed the old man to have his own way.

The result was, that before they sat down to their meal at the quiet hotel, Uncle Luke wrote a letter, which was dispatched by special messenger, after which he ate heartily; while Leslie played with a cup of tea and a piece of dry toast.

"Not the way to do work," said Uncle Luke grimly. "Eat, man; eat. Coal and c.o.ke to make the human engine get up steam."

Leslie made an effort to obey, but everything seemed distasteful, and he took refuge behind a paper till the waiter entered with a card.

"Hah! yes: show him in," said Uncle Luke. "Here he is, Leslie," he continued.

"Here who is?"

"Parkins."

"Parkins?"

"Sergeant Parkins. You remember?"

Leslie had forgotten the name, but directly after the whole scene of the search for Harry came back as the quiet, decisive-looking detective officer entered the room, nodded shortly to both, and after taking the seat indicated, looked inquiringly at Uncle Luke.

"At your service, sir," he said. "You've brought me some news about that affair down yonder?"

"No," said Uncle Luke. "I have come to see if you can help us in another way;" and he told him the object of his visit.

"Hah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed their visitor. "Yes, that's different, sir;" and taking out a notebook, he began to ask question after question on points which seemed to him likely to be useful, till he had gained all the information he thought necessary, when he closed the book with a snap, and b.u.t.toned it up in his breast.

"Rather curious fact, sir," he said, looking at both in turn; "but I've been thinking about Hakemouth a good deal this last day or two."

"Why?" asked Uncle Luke shortly.

"I've been away all over the Continent for some time--forgery case, and that Hakemouth business has gone no farther. As soon as I got back, and was free, I wanted something to do, so I said to myself that I'd take it on again, and I have."

"Oh, never mind that now," said Leslie angrily. "Can you help us here?"

"I don't know, sir. I shall try; but I might mention to you that we think we have obtained a clue to the gentleman who escaped."

"Yes, yes," said Leslie impatiently; "but can you help us here?"

"Give me time, sir, and I'll do my best," said the sergeant. "Not an easy task, sir, you know. A needle is hard to find in a bottle of hay, and all the clue you give me is that a lady left your neighbourhood with a French gentleman. Fortunately I did see the lady, and should know her again. Good morning."

"But what are we to do?" said Leslie eagerly.

"You, sir?" said the sergeant quietly, and with a suspicion of contempt in his tone. "Oh, you'd better wait."

"Wait!" cried Leslie, in a voice full of suppressed rage.

"And practise patience," muttered the man. "One moment, sir," he said aloud. "You saw this French gentleman?"

"I saw him, but not his face. Mr Vine here told you; the light was overturned."

"But you saw his figure, the man's shape?"

"Yes, of course."

"And you heard his voice?"

"Yes."

"Broken French?"

"Yes."

"Now, sir, just think a moment. I have a slight idea. French name-- spoke--"

"We mentioned no name."

"One minute, sir. Spoke French--brother's fellow-clerk and intimate-- gentleman who went off--been staying at the house--long time in the lady's society. What do you say now to its being this Mr Pradelle?"

Uncle Luke gave the table a thump which made the tea-things rattle, and Leslie started from his seat, gazing wildly at the officer, who smiled rather triumphantly.

"Great heavens!" faltered Leslie, as if a new light had flashed into his darkened mind.

"Of course, sir, this is only a suggestion," said the sergeant. "It is all new to me, but seems likely."

"No," said Uncle Luke emphatically, "no. She would never have gone off with him."

"Very good, gentlemen. I'll see what I can do at once."