"There goes ten of 'em. Old Hoskyns can never want me at this time of night. At all events, if he don't come soon he won't find me here. If a man can't call the time his own after ten o'clock at night, he's no better than a slave."
The speaker was Jabez Creede, and he was sitting, with a short black pipe in his mouth, over a handful of fire--although the evening was a summer one--in the meanly furnished room which he called his home. In one hand he held a crumpled1 scrap2 of paper, the writing on which he now proceeded to read over again for the twentieth time.
"Please not to be out of the way this evening, as I may possibly want you on important business.--T. Hoskyns."
"Ugh!" growled3 Creede in disgust, as he flung the paper into the fire. "One might work one's heartstrings out for old Hoskyns, and there would never be an extra half quid for a poor devil on pay-day. I wish Mr. Bristow would take to the business. He's one of the right sort, he is. I wish----"
Here he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Presently his landlady4 entered. "Mr. Hoskyns is waiting below," said the woman. "He wants you to put on your hat and coat, and go with him."
Creede growled, put down his pipe, rose, yawned, stretched himself, inducted himself into a shabby grease-stained brown overcoat, pulled his battered5 hat over his gloomy brows, and stumbled downstairs. He had been drinking heavily during the day--indeed, the days when he did not drink heavily were few and far between--and both his gait and his tongue were in some measure affected6 by his potations.
Mr. Hoskyns was standing7 at the door, carrying in one hand the old blue bag with which Creede had been familiar for years.
"Make haste, man alive," said the lawyer, impatiently. "I want you to go with me to the prison. Some most important evidence in our favour has just turned up, and I must see Mr. Dering at once. Here, catch hold of this."
"It's precious heavy," grumbled8 Creede, as he took the bag.
"I dare say it is," answered Hoskyns, dryly.
"A good many clever brains have been at work on the contents of that bag. It's weighty with wisdom and common sense--two commodities, Jabez Creede, with which you have never been overburdened."
Not a word more passed between them till they reached the prison. The distance they had to walk was not great, and Mr. Hoskyns seemed anxious to get over the ground as quickly as possible, turning his face neither to right hand nor left, but going straight on till they halted at the gates. The great prison looked as black, silent, and deserted9 as some City of the Dead. Hoskyns gave a tug10 at the bell-pull, and was just refreshing11 himself with a pinch of his favourite mixture, when a little wicket in the door was opened, and through the bars two keen eyes peered out into the semi-darkness.
"Ha, Warde, is that you?" he said, nodding cheerfully to the pair of eyes. "Rather late to look in upon you, eh? But it's a matter of life and death--nothing less--that has brought us. Some most important evidence in our favour has turned up at the last moment, and it is imperative12 that I should see my client without a moment's delay."
"It's long past the hour for visitors, Mr. Hoskyns, as you know; and it would be as much as my place is worth to----"
"Where's the governor? where's my friend, Mr. Dux?" interrupted Hoskyns, impatiently. "Fetch him. He'll put the matter right in a moment."
"Mr. Dux, sir, is somewhere in the town, and has not yet got home. But I'll fetch Mr. Jackson, sir; perhaps he may be able to do something for you."
Jackson, the chief night-warder, was quickly on the spot, and the case explained to him in a few words.
"It's against the regulations, of course, Mr. Hoskyns," said Jackson; "but considering the emergency of the case, and in the absence of Mr. Dux, I will take upon myself the responsibility of allowing you to see Mr. Dering."
"Thank you very much, Jackson--very much indeed," said the lawyer, with a flourish of his huge yellow silk pocket-handkerchief. "I give you my word of honour that it's nothing less than a case of life and death."
The little low-browed side-door had been opened by this time, and Mr. Hoskyns went in, followed by Jabez Creede carrying the bag of papers. Creede had accompanied his employer to the gaol13 several times before, and his face was well known to the warders.
"I can only ask that, under the circumstances, you will make your visit as short a one as possible; and I hope, with all my heart, that you will be able to extricate14 Mr. Dering from his difficulty."
"Jackson, you may take my word for it," said Hoskyns, seriously, "that, before to-morrow night at this time, Mr. Dering will be a free man."
"I am heartily15 glad to hear it, sir, and I wish you a very good-night."
"Great heaven! Hoskyns, what has brought you here at this uncanny hour?" exclaimed Lionel, starting up from his pallet, on which he had thrown himself without undressing, as the lawyer and Creede were ushered17 into his cell and the door locked behind them.
"I have got great tidings for you, Mr. Dering. Splendid tidings!" said Hoskyns, as he took the bag from Creede. "But sit down, sir, and don't excite yourself, because I shall require your very best care and attention during the next few minutes." Speaking thus, he took off his broad-brimmed hat and deposited it tenderly on Lionel's bed; then he drew a chair up to the little deal table, motioned Lionel to take the opposite chair, and Creede to take the third and only remaining one. The latter gentleman, either from innate18 modesty19, or because he was afraid that his breath might smell too strongly of rum, took care to plant himself a yard or two away from the table.
"Yes, sir, some splendid news--something that will astonish the world to-morrow," continued the lawyer, as he dived into his bag, and fished therefrom a carefully folded sheet of foolscap. "Read that, Mr. Dering--read that carefully through," he said, as he handed the paper in question to Lionel. "But, above all things, control your feelings."
Lionel took the paper, opened it, and read. Mr. Hoskyns, leaning forward with his elbows on the table, took a pinch of snuff slowly and artistically20, staring across, meanwhile, very hard at Lionel.
The paper ran as under:--
"Be careful not to betray me by word or look. I am here to effect your escape. Follow my lead in everything, and show no surprise at anything that I may say or do.
"T. B."
Despite all his efforts to the contrary, Lionel could not keep his face from changing colour during the reading of these words.
"Very extraordinary, is it not," said the lawyer, as he took back the paper, "that this evidence should not have been forthcoming till the very last moment?"
"Very extraordinary, indeed," said Lionel, gravely.
He could hardly believe the evidence of his senses. The voice, the features, the hair, the whiskers, the dress, the snuff-box, and the pocket-handkerchief, were all part and parcel of the genuine Hoskyns; but when he looked intently through the gold-rimmed spectacles, he saw there the eyes--not to be mistaken for the eyes of any other man--of his faithful friend, Tom Bristow.
"I have shown the paper to Tressil," said Tom, still keeping up his assumed character, for it is hardly necessary to observe that Creede was not in the secret, "and he is quite agreed with me as to its vital importance. In fact it is at his request that I have come here to-night. There will be two or three telegrams to send off, and at least a couple of witnesses to hunt up, and all before the court opens in the morning. But before going into these details, I mean to drink your health--yes, sir, to drink your very good health, and to the happy acquittal which is sure to be yours in a few hours from the present time."
"I am much obliged to you, my dear Hoskyns," said Lionel, "but I'm afraid that my means of hospitality at present are limited to a copious23 supply of cold water."
"I've provided for that contingency24, my dear sir, by bringing with me a bottle of prime old Burgundy from my own cellar," and he produced from his bag a tempting-looking black bottle with the cork25 already half-drawn. "And now for a wineglass."
"I've nothing better to offer you than a tea-cup."
"Under the circumstances we will make shift with the tea-cup."
It was handed to him by Lionel. "The tea-cup turns out to be a coffee-cup," said Tom. With that, he went down on one knee, drew the cork, half filled the cup with wine, and then offered it to Lionel.
"Not till you and Creede have both drunk to my health and acquittal," said the latter.
Tom took back the cup, gave utterance26 to an appropriate sentence or two, and tossed off the wine. Then going down again on one knee, he proceeded to refill the cup. The table was between him and Creede, and the latter, who had not failed to prick27 up his ears at the mention of something to drink, could not see clearly how Tom was engaged. He could hear the wine gurgle from the bottle into the cup, and that as enough for him. He did not see Tom's nimble fingers extract a tiny phial from his waistcoat pocket, and pour the contents into the wine.
"Creede grumbled because my bag was so heavy," said Tom, with a chuckle28. "He wouldn't have said a word had he known what was inside it. Here, man, drink this off to Mr. Dering's very good health, and tell me whether you ever tasted anything better in your life."
He handed the cup to Creede, who rose somewhat unsteadily from his chair to take it. "I drink to your very good health, Mr. Dering," he said, in a loutish29 sort of way, "and may you have a good deliverance." And carrying the cup to his mouth with a shaking hand, he drank off the contents at a draught30.
Both Tom and Lionel were watching him keenly. He crossed the cell and put the cup down on the window-ledge, making a wry31 face as he did so. Then he sat down again on his chair.
"I am afraid, Creede, that you have vitiated your palate by accustoming32 it to inferior drinks," said Tom, "and that you don't know a good wine when you taste it."
"I'd sooner have one quartern of real old Jamaica than a gallon of that rubbish," growled Creede, with ill-disguised contempt.
"Now for business," said Tom. "There's not a minute to lose." And with that he fished a formidable-looking heap of documents from the depths of his bag. "Of course, the first thing to do," he went on, "is to get hold of our two new witnesses, Robinson and Davis. I think I can lay hands on them without much difficulty." And with that he went off into a long rigmarole respecting the supposed steps which it would be needful to take in the new state of affairs, but keeping a careful watch on Creede, meanwhile, out of the corners of his eyes.
Presently Creede's eyes began to glaze33 a little. Then they closed. Then they opened and closed again. Then his head sank forward on his breast, and his arms fell limply by his sides. Both the men were watching him intently. Suddenly Tom sprang from his seat and was just in time to catch the inanimate body in his arms, as it was sliding from the chair to the floor.
Tom held up a warning finger to Lionel, who had also started from his chair. For full two minutes he rested on one knee without moving, supporting Creede in his arms. "He is fast now, I think," he said at last. "Help me to lift him on to the bed."
When the unconscious law-clerk had been laid on Lionel's bed, said Tom: "Now help me off with his coat, waistcoat, necktie, collar, and boots." It was a work of some little difficulty to accomplish all this, but it was done at last. Then, by Tom's instructions, Creede was stretched on the bed with his face to the wall, in the natural position of a sleeping man, and the bedclothes pulled over him.
Up to the present time Lionel had not asked a single question, but he could contain himself no longer. "In heaven's name, Bristow, what do all these strange proceedings34 mean?"
"They mean, Lionel Dering," said Tom, turning on him gravely, almost sternly, "that I am here to-night for the purpose of effecting your escape."
"Of effecting my escape!"
"What other purpose do you think would have brought me here in this disguise?"
"But--but----" stammered35 Lionel, and then he broke down utterly36.
"Every minute is precious," said Tom. "There is no time to argue the case. Put yourself into my hands, and it will go hard but you will be a free man in an hour's time. Refuse my aid, and in less than three weeks from now 'you will be lying, a strangled corpse37, in a murderer's grave."
Lionel shuddered38 and stared at Tom, but spoke40 not a single word.
"The trial is going against you, and to-morrow morning will see you condemned41 to death. Are you prepared to die by the hangman's hand for a crime of which you know nothing? Are you prepared to leave your young wife to the tender mercies of a world which will not fail to remember that her husband was a murderer? Live, man, live, if it be only for vengeance--if it be only to track out and hunt down the real murderer--if it be only to wipe the foul42 stain of blood from the name you bear--from the name which was borne by your father before you!"
"But why to-night?--why try to escape to-night?" pleaded Lionel. "The verdict has not yet been given. Who says that there is no chance of my acquittal?"
"I say it. Hoskyns says it. Tressil thinks it. You will be condemned to death to-morrow morning. After that, all chance of escape will be gone for ever. From that moment you will never be left alone till that most awful moment of all when you stand on the drop, pinioned43, sightless, waiting for the bolt to fall. Dering, it must be to-night or never!"
"Bristow, I am in your hands--do with me as you will!" cried Lionel with emotion; and suiting the action to the word, he rose from the edge of the bed, and placed both his Lands in those of his friend.
"That's all I ask, old boy," said Tom warmly. "Now sit down here, and obey my instructions, and don't bother me with any questions."
Lionel did as he was told, and sat down close under the gas light.
"There's no help for it," said Tom. "Both beard and moustache must be sacrificed."
"So be it," said Lionel philosophically44. "They will grow again if need be."
Next moment a pair of glittering scissors were playing round Lionel's mouth and chin, and in two minutes the entire mass of yellow beard and moustache was swept clean away. This, of itself, was almost enough to disguise Lionel beyond ordinary recognition. The chin and upper lip were left stubbly on purpose. Creede's face was nearly always stubbly--he rarely shaved more than once a week--and Lionel was now going to personate Creede. But Creede was very dark complexioned45, while Lionel was just the opposite; so Tom's next operation was to produce from his wonderful bag a small bottle of some kind of liquid, with which he proceeded to stain the hands, face, and neck of his friend. Next came a wig46, which he had had specially47 made in London, and which was a very clever copy of the head of hair it was intended to simulate. It proved to be an excellent fit. With the fixing, by means of gum, of a scrap of ragged48 black hair under Lionel's chin--which was Creede's notion of a beard--the first part of Lionel's disguise was completed.
"Take off your coat, waistcoat, and cravat49, and induct yourself into Mr. Creede's duplicates of those articles. You shudder39 at the thought. I do not wonder at it; but, for the time being, you must put all your finer feelings into your pocket. But first," added Tom, diving again into his bag, "pull on this pair of old black trousers over your own, after which you can go on with the remainder of your dressing16 while I finish with Silenus here."
Once more the bag came into requisition, and from it Tom brought forth22 a light-coloured wig, with which was combined a beard and moustache precisely50 the same in colour and appearance as those of which Lionel had been so recently despoiled51. With these he proceeded to decorate the head and face of the unconscious Creede. It was necessary to do this, because the bed was exactly opposite the cell door, and once or twice in the course of the night the warder on duty was instructed to open the little wicket, and see that everything was right with his prisoner. As Lionel lay in bed he was in full view of the warder, and it thus became requisite52 to "make up" Creede into some semblance53 of the real prisoner, it not being at all unlikely that the warder might come round and take his usual look within a few minutes of the departure of Tom and Lionel.
When the wig, beard, and moustache had been duly arranged, and the bedclothes pulled close up round Creede's neck, Tom stepped back as far as the door in order to study the general effect. It was highly satisfactory. When the gas was turned down to the minimum point at which it was allowed to burn during the night, no one, without close examination, could have told that the man lying on the bed was other than Lionel Dering.
Satisfied so far, Tom next turned to Lionel, who by this time had duly inducted himself into Creede's garments. Here, also, the general effect was satisfactory. One reason why Tom's choice had fallen on Creede was because he and Lionel were both about the same height and build.
Tom gave a few final artistic21 touches to the tout54 ensemble--arranging the frayed55 old black necktie, and the limp, dirty collar, after Creede's own slovenly56 fashion--and finishing by putting into Lionel's reluctant hands the law-clerk's greasy57 and much-worn hat.
"Years ago," said Tom, "when I amused myself with private theatricals58, I little thought that my talent for 'making up' would ever be brought into such valuable requisition. You would almost deceive Hoskyns himself if you were to walk into his office, especially by gaslight."
"And you would quite deceive him," said Lionel. "He would take you for his 'double,' and think his time was nearly come."
"There is one thing still to do," said Tom. "Creede's walk is rather a peculiar59 one. Now watch me, and try whether you can imitate it."
In about three minutes Lionel was tolerably perfect. "You know what kind of a voice Creede has," said Tom. "Should you be accosted60 by any of the warders as we go out, you must do your best to imitate it. And now I think we are ready for a start."
He crossed over to the bed, to take another look at the unconscious Creede. He felt his pulse carefully, and then lifted up one of his eyelids61 and examined the pupil underneath62.
"Let us hope that you have not given him an overdose of the narcotic," said Lionel.
"No fear of that," answered Tom. "Remember that my father was a doctor, and that I have some knowledge of drugs. I have made this man my study for weeks. If my calculations are correct, he will sleep for about three hours, not longer--and won't there be a hullabaloo when he awakes!"
"But assuming that we get safely out of the prison--what then? Where am I to go? How am I to get rid of this cursed disguise?" said Lionel.
"You are to go home to the wife of your bosom63. Everything has been thought of--everything provided for your safety. And now for the attempt. Don't forget that you are Jabez Creede. Take the bag and follow me at a respectful distance. Pull your hat over your brows and turn up the collar of your overcoat, and, above all things, don't seem to be in a hurry."
Tom gave a final glance round the cell to see that everything was in order, turned the gas partially64 down, and then tapped at the door. A warder came in answer to the summons, and unlocked the door. Tom and Lionel stepped out into the corridor. The warder gave a glance into the cell, and saw, as he thought, his prisoner lying on his pallet with his face turned to the wall, as he had seen him lying many a time before.
"Tired out, poor fellow," whispered Tom in the warder's ear as the latter proceeded to relock the door. "But I've brought him good news, and I warrant he'll sleep as sound as a top to-night.'
"Anyhow he'll know his fate by this time to-morrow," said the warder.
They followed the man along the corridor and through two or three passages, till they reached the outer courtyard. Here they were joined by two other warders. Tom, all this time, had been talking volubly, and making ample use of his big pocket-handkerchief--doing his best, in fact, to keep his companion from being overmuch noticed. But now had come the most dangerous moment of all. They were all crowded together close to the outer gate, waiting for it to be unfastened--the three warders, Tom, and Lionel--under the light of a flaring65 gas-lamp. The slightest hesitation--the least want of presence of mind--might have been fatal to everything.
Happily, Tom was equal to the occasion. While waiting for the bolts to be withdrawn66, his thumb and finger slid into his waistcoat pocket, and the quick ears of the warders caught the pleasant chink of gold.
"Mr. Dering," said Tom, "would insist on my presenting you gentlemen with ten sovereigns to divide amongst you, as a slight token of his appreciation67 of your unvarying kindness. Here's the money; and I hope you won't forget to drink Mr. Dering's health before you are many hours older."
He pressed the gold into the hands of the nearest warder. The men's thoughts at once became occupied with the consideration of a fair and equal division of the gift. A moment later the door stood wide open. Tom, followed by Lionel, passed slowly out.
"We hope you will convey our thanks to Mr. Dering," said the head warder, "and we are greatly obliged to you, sir. We are not allowed to receive presents of any kind, but in this case----"
"Which is an exceptional one," said Toni, "you won't refuse."
"If we were sure," said the warder in a low voice, "that it would never come to the governor's ears----"
"You may take my word that it never will. You can trust me, of course; and, in business matters, Creede here is as silent as the grave."
"In that case----"
"You will act like men of sense and keep the money. Good-night."
"Good-night, sir, and many thanks to you. Good-night both."
Thank Heaven! at last the terrible door was shut behind them.
Ten minutes later a black shadow crept silently up to the door of Alder68 Cottage.
Front and back the little house was all in darkness; but the door was ajar, and close behind it knelt--she had stood there till she could stand no longer--Edith, listening--listening with beating heart and straining nerves--with every sense on the alert. The black shadow touched the door. The door yielded to the touch. Another black shadow started up from the ground. Husband and wife met heart to heart. Lionel Dering was saved.
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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artistically
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| adv.艺术性地 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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copious
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| adj.丰富的，大量的 | |
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contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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loutish
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| adj.粗鲁的 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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accustoming
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| v.（使）习惯于( accustom的现在分词 ) | |
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glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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pinioned
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| v.抓住[捆住]（双臂）( pinion的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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philosophically
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| adv.哲学上；富有哲理性地；贤明地；冷静地 | |
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complexioned
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| 脸色…的 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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despoiled
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| v.掠夺，抢劫( despoil的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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semblance
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| n.外貌，外表 | |
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tout
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| v.推销，招徕；兜售；吹捧，劝诱 | |
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frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slovenly
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| adj.懒散的，不整齐的，邋遢的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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theatricals
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| n.（业余性的）戏剧演出，舞台表演艺术；职业演员；戏剧的( theatrical的名词复数 )；剧场的；炫耀的；戏剧性的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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alder
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| n.赤杨树 | |
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