CHAPTER SIX
THE SPANISH MANUSCRIPT
Lauriston, walking back to his room after leaving Melky at the door ofthe eating-house, faced the situation in which an unfortunatecombination of circumstances had placed him. Ayscough had been placableenough; the authorities at the police-station had heard his own versionof things with attention--but he was still conscious that he was undera certain amount of suspicion. More than that, he felt convinced thatthe police would keep an eye on him that night. Ayscough, indeed, hadmore than hinted that that would probably be done. For anything heknew, some plain-clothes man might be shadowing him even then--anyway,there had been no mistaking the almost peremptory request of theinspector that he should report himself at the police station in themorning. It was no use denying the fact--he was suspected, in somedegree.
He knew where the grounds of suspicion lay--in his possession of tworings, which were undoubtedly very similar to the rings which lay inthe tray that he and the detective had found on the table in theback-parlour of the pawnshop. It needed no effort on the part of onewho had already had considerable experience in the construction ofplots for stories, to see how the police would build up a theory oftheir own. Here, they would say, is a young fellow, who on his ownconfession, is so hard up, so penniless, indeed, that he has had topawn his watch. He has got to know something of this particularpawnshop, and of its keepers--he watches the girl leave; he ascertainsthat the old man is alone; he enters, probably he sees that tray ofrings lying about; he grabs a couple of the rings; the old maninterrupts him in the act; he seizes the old man, to silence hisoutcries; the old man, feeble enough at any time, dies under the shock.A clear, an unmistakable case!
What was he, Lauriston, to urge against the acceptance of such atheory? He thought over everything that could be said on his behalf.The friendliness of Zillah and her cousin Melky towards him could bedismissed--that, when it came to it, would weigh little against thecold marshalling of facts which a keen legal mind would put into theopposite scale. His own contention that it was scarcely probable thathe should have gone to the pawnshop except to pledge something, andthat that something was the rings, would also be swept aside, easilyenough: his real object, the other side would say, had been robberywhen the old man was alone: what evidence had he that the two ringswhich he had in his hand when Ayscough found him hurrying out of theshop were really his?
Here, Lauriston knew he was in a difficulty. He had kept these tworings safely hidden in his old-fashioned trunk ever since coming toLondon, and had never shown them to a single person--he had, indeed,never seen them himself for a long time until he took them out thatafternoon. But where was his proof of that! He had no relations to whomhe could appeal. His mother had possessed an annuity; just sufficientto maintain her and her son, and to give Lauriston a good education: ithad died with her, and all that she had left him, to start life on, wasabout two hundred pounds and some small personal belongings, of whichthe rings and his father's watch and chain were a part. And heremembered now that his mother had kept those rings as securely putaway as he had kept them since her death--until they came into hishands at her death he had only once seen them; she had shown them tohim when he was a boy and had said they were very valuable. Was itpossible that there was any one, far away in Scotland, who had knownhis mother and who would come forward--if need arose--and prove thatthose rings had been her property? But when he had put this question tohimself, he had to answer it with a direct negative--he knew of no one.
There was one gleam of hope in this critical situation. John Purdie wascoming to London. Lauriston had always felt that he could rely on JohnPurdie, and he had just received proof of the value of his faith in hisold schoolmate. John Purdie would tell him what to do: he might evensuggest the names of some of Mrs. Lauriston's old friends. And perhapsthe need might not arise--there must surely be some clue to the oldpawnbroker's assailant; surely the police would go deeper into thematter. He cheered up at these thoughts, and having written replies tothe two welcome letters and asked John Purdie to see him immediately onhis arrival in town, he went out again to the post-office and to fulfilhis promise to Melky to call at the pawnshop.
Lauriston was naturally of quick observation. He noticed now, as hestepped out into the ill-lighted, gloomy street that a man was pacingup and down in front of the house. This man took no notice of him as hepassed, but before he had reached Praed Street, he glanced around, andsaw that he was following him. He followed him to Spring Streetpost-office; he was in his rear when Lauriston reached the pawnshop.Idly and perfunctorily as the man seemed to be strolling about,Lauriston was sure that he was shadowing him--and he told Melky of thefact when Melky admitted him to the shop by the private door.
"Likely enough, mister," remarked Melky. "But I shouldn't bother myselfabout it if I were you. There'll be more known about this affair beforelong. Now, look here," he continued, leading the way into the littleback-parlour where Lauriston had found Daniel Multenius lying dead,"here's you and me alone--Zillah, she's upstairs, and Mrs. Goldmark iswith her. Just you tell me what you saw when you came in here, d'yousee, Mr. Lauriston--never mind the police--just give me the facts. Iain't no fool, you know, and I'm going to work this thing out."
Lauriston gave Melky a complete account of his connection with thematter: Melky checked off all the points on his long fingers. At theend he turned to the table and indicated the finely-bound book whichLauriston had noticed when he and the detective had first looked round.
"The police," said Melky, "made Zillah lock up that tray o' rings thatwas there in a drawer what she had to clear out for 'em, and they'veput a seal on it till tomorrow. They've got those rings of yours, too,mister, haven't they?"
"They said it would be best for me to leave them with them," answeredLauriston. "Ayscough advised it. They gave me a receipt for them, youknow."
"All right," remarked Melky. "But there's something they ain't had thesense to see the importance of--that fine book there. Mister!--thatthere book wasn't in this parlour, nor in this shop, nor in this house,at a quarter to five o'clock this afternoon, when my cousin Zillah wentout, leaving the poor old man alone. She'll swear to that. Now then,who brought it here--who left it here? Between the time Zillah wentout, mister, and the time you come in, and found what you did find,somebody--somebody!--had been in here and left that book behind him!And--mark you!--it wasn't pawned, neither. That's a fact! And--it's nocommon book, that. Look at it, Mr. Lauriston--you'd ought to knowsomething about books. Look at it!--s'elp me if I don't feel there's aclue in that there volume, whoever it belongs to!"
Lauriston took the book in his hands. He had only glanced at itcasually before; now he examined it carefully, while Melky stood at hiselbow, watching. The mysterious volume was certainly worthy of closeinspection--a small quarto, wonderfully bound in old dark crimsonmorocco leather, and ornamented on sides and back with curious goldarabesque work: a heavy clasp, also intricately wrought, held theboards together. Lauriston, something of a book lover, whose naturalinclination was to spend his last shilling on a book rather than onbeef and bread, looked admiringly at this fine specimen of the binder'sart as he turned it over.
"That's solid gold, isn't it?" he asked as he unfastened the clasp."You know."
"Solid gold it is, mister--and no error," assented Melky. "Now, what'sinside? It ain't no blooming account-book, I'll bet!"
Lauriston opened the volume, to reveal leaves of old vellum, coveredwith beautiful fine writing. He had sufficient knowledge of foreignlanguages to know what he was looking at.
"That's Spanish!" he said. "An old Spanish manuscript--and I should sayit's worth a rare lot of money. How could it have come here?"
Melky took the old volume out of Lauriston's hands, and put it away ina corner cupboard.
"Ah, just so, mister!" he said. "But we'll keep that question toourselves--for awhile. Don't you say nothing to the police about thatthere old book--I'll give Zillah the tip. More hangs round that than weknow of yet. Now look here
!--there'll be the opening of the inquesttomorrow. You be careful! Take my tip and don't let 'em get more out ofyou than's necessary. I'll go along with you. I'm going to stop heretonight--watch-dog, you know. Mrs. Goldmark and another friend's goingto be here as well, so Zillah'll have company. And I say, Zillah wantsa word with you--stop here, and I'll send her down."
Lauriston presently found himself alone with Zillah in the littleparlour. She looked at him silently, with eyes full of anxiety: hesuddenly realized that the anxiety was for himself.
"Don't!" he said, moving close to her and laying his hand on her arm."I'm not afraid!"
Zillah lifted her large dark eyes to his.
"Those rings?" she said. "You'll be able to account for them? Thepolice, oh, I'm so anxious about you!"
"The rings are mine!" he exclaimed. "It doesn't matter what the policesay or think, or do, either--at least, it shan't matter. And--you'renot to be anxious I've got a good friend coming from Scotland--Melkytold you I'd had two lots of good news tonight, didn't he?"
A moment later Lauriston was in the street--conscious that, without aword spoken between them, he and Zillah had kissed each other. He wentaway with a feeling of exaltation--and he only laughed when he saw aman detach himself from a group on the opposite side of the street andsaunter slowly after him. Let the police shadow him--watch his lodgingsall night, if they pleased--he had something else to think of. Andpresently, not even troubling to look out of his window to see if therewas a watcher there, he went to bed, to dream of Zillah's dark eyes.
But when morning came, and Lauriston realized that a fateful day wasbefore him, his thoughts were not quite so rosy. He drew up hisblind--there, certainly was a man pacing the opposite sidewalk.Evidently, he was not to escape surveillance; the official eye was onhim! Supposing, before the day was out, the official hand was on him,too?
He turned from the window as he heard his newspaper thrust under hisdoor. He had only one luxury--a copy of the _Times_ every morning. Itwas a three-penny _Times_ in those days, but he had always managed tofind his weekly eighteen pence for it. He picked it up now, andcarelessly glanced at its front page as he was about to lay it aside.The next moment he was eagerly reading a prominent advertisement:
"Lost in a Holborn to Chapel Street Omnibus, about 4 o'clock yesterdayafternoon, a Spanish manuscript, bound in old crimson morocco. Whoeverhas found the same will be most handsomely rewarded on bringing it toSpencer Levendale, Esq., M.P., 591, Sussex Square, W."
Lauriston read this twice over--and putting the paper in his pocket,finished his dressing and went straight to the police-station.