Part 5

A moment later and the strangely assorted group were out of sight, and Wilfrid was trudging homewards. He was too tired and worn out to think of much else beside bed and rest, and for once in a way a busy morning followed. It was late in the afternoon before he found time to go to Maldon Grange again, and then he was informed that Mr. Flower had left for London on important business, which would probably detain him in town till the end of the week. He hesitated before inquiring for Miss Galloway, but she, too, had accompanied her uncle, and the butler had not the least idea when she would be home again. It was disappointing, but Wilfrid had to make the best of it.

There was, too, a sense of dulness and reaction after the bustle and excitement of the last four-and-twenty hours. It was hard to drop back into the humdrum life of Oldborough, and as Wilfrid went about his work he found himself regretting that he had abandoned the old adventurous existence for the stale commonplaces of respectability. Then he had no cares and worries. Now every post began to bring them along. Certain of the local tradesmen were beginning to press him, and he dared not as yet ask for any money from such patients as had required his services. There was quite a little pile of these missives as he came in tired and weary to his frugal dinner. He tossed them aside impatiently.

"I think I'll wait till I have had something to eat, mother," he said. "I know what they are."

Mrs. Mercer glanced affectionately at her son. Generally he treated these things lightly enough, and took a cheerful view of the future. But to-night everything seemed to oppress and weigh him down. He had no desire his mother should see how he was feeling the strain. It was not till he had finished his dinner and could make a decent excuse to get away to the surgery that he opened his letters. They were just as he had expected. Nearly every one of them contained a request for money, from a polite suggestion to a curt threat of legal proceedings. But these were small matters compared with the last letter which bore the London postmark. It was short and business-like and, though courteous, there was no mistaking its meaning.

"DEAR SIR (it ran),--We have this day taken over from Messrs. Darton and Co. certain securities and bills upon which they have advanced money to various persons, yourself amongst the number. We notice that an acceptance of yours for £175 becomes due on Saturday. As the circumstances of the case call for a clearance of these outstanding matters, we have to request that your cheque for the above amount be paid to us on Saturday morning, otherwise we shall with great regret have to place it in other hands for collection. At the present moment we have no funds available to renew your acceptance.

"Yours obediently, "FOWLER & Co."

"Fowler and Co., indeed," Wilfrid murmured bitterly. "They have got me in their net surely enough. Now I wonder what this means? I wonder what these fellows are driving at? They faithfully promised me to renew if I needed it; in fact, that was one of the conditions of the loan. And now I shall lose everything. All my efforts will have been in vain. It seems very hard just when I was making a little headway. But for my mother I would not care."

*CHAPTER XII*

*IN THE RING*

Wilfrid sat smoking moodily till gradually the right course of action occurred to him. He was powerless to cope with these rogues. He would have to place the matter in the hands of a solicitor. Of the few lawyers in Oldborough Wilfrid was only acquainted with Mr. Ernest Vardon, a rising young attorney, who had a branch office in Castlebridge. They had met on several occasions lately, and something like friendship had grown up between them. At any rate, it would do no harm to consult Vardon, who, to a certain extent, was already familiar with Wilfrid's position.

The prospect of action somewhat relieved Wilfrid's depression. He left the house and made his way to Vardon's lodgings. The latter had just finished his dinner and was ready to hear what his visitor had to say, though he intimated that Wilfrid must not be long, as he had an appointment in Castlebridge late that evening.

"I have got a case there before magistrates to-morrow," he said, as he laid his hand upon a telegram lying on the table. "I have just had my instructions by wire, and I want to see my client to-night. It has something to do with a fracas at Gordon's Circus, I understand. But I can give you half an hour. What is the trouble, Mercer?"

By way of reply Wilfrid laid his letter upon the table and asked Vardon to peruse it.

"Well, that is plain enough, at any rate," he said presently. "I happen to know something of these people; also something about Darton and Co. for the matter of that. More than one unfortunate client of mine has found himself in their clutches. My dear fellow, why do you let yourself be beguiled by these bloodsuckers? A man of the world, too!"

Wilfrid shrugged his shoulders impatiently.

"What is the good of crying over spilt milk?" he asked. "The thing is done, and there's an end of it. As I told you before, I gave up my sea-faring life for the sake of my mother. I knew it was a risk, but I thought that when I bought this practice I should have been in a position to pay the debt off when it became due. I should never have borrowed the money at all if I had not been definitely told that I could renew the bill when it became due."

"Ah, they are all like that," Vardon said. "And now they have turned over your business to another firm who really want the money. They won't wait an hour, you may depend upon it. They will sell you up, and what balance remains will go in lawyer's costs, half of which these sharks will share. You see, they have everything to gain and nothing to lose by crushing you; in fact, if you went with the money now they would be rather disappointed than otherwise."

"Oh, I can see all that," Wilfrid said gloomily. "But why do they part with my bill like this?"

"I give that up," said Vardon. "I suppose you don't happen to have made an enemy of either of these men? You haven't had any personal correspondence with them, or anything of that kind?"

"Nothing of the sort, my dear fellow. I can't understand it at all. And as to an enemy, why----"

Wilfrid broke off abruptly. A sudden uneasy suspicion filled his mind. Vardon's shrewd eyes were turned upon his face interrogatively. He waited for Wilfrid to speak.

"I dare say you will think it rather far-fetched," Mercer said presently, "but I have an enemy in the person of Mr. Samuel Flower, the ship-owner, whom, strange to say, I have been attending professionally. Of course, I am telling you all this in confidence, Vardon. Do you happen to remember a rather sensational case in which one of Flower's ships, the _Guelder Rose_, was mixed up? There was a mutiny amongst the crew, and I had a considerable hand in it. I was the ship's doctor, you understand. Between ourselves, it was a shocking bad case, and if Flower had had his deserts he would have stood in the dock over it. Instead of that, I nearly found _myself_ in the dock. I managed to keep out of the way, and as I had never seen Flower, I thought I was safe. It was strange that I should have been called in to see him the day before yesterday, but he did not appear to recognize me, and I thought it was all right. I foolishly let slip a remark that I had been a ship's surgeon at one time, and I am sure now that it aroused Flower's suspicions, for he was on the alert at once. Mind you, he asked no further questions, and I thought it was all right. Now it occurs to me that Flower might be at the bottom of this trouble of mine, for it is the sort of thing he would delight in."

"That he would," Vardon exclaimed. "Flower is just that type of man. Of course, I ought not to say so, but he is a thorough-paced rascal, and I am not the only man in the neighbourhood who knows it. I should not be surprised if you are right. I am only too sorry that I can't help you."

Wilfrid sat there thoughtfully. He did not appear to hear what Vardon was saying. Then he jumped suddenly to his feet and brought his fist crashing down upon the table.

"There is no longer any doubt about it," he cried. "I ought to have remembered it before. When I was in Flower's study the night before last there was a letter just begun lying on the table. I remember now that it was addressed to Darton and Co., no doubt in connexion with this very transfer. More than that, the letter was headed '_Re_ Mr. Wil----' and there the letter broke off. You may depend upon it, that this 'Mr. Wil----' was meant for Mr. Wilfrid Mercer, and this is the result of the scheme. That man Cotter got all the information by telephone; in fact, Flower told me that he had been telephoning to London. And I am afraid that is not the worst of it, Vardon. You see, some time before I came here I met Miss Beatrice Galloway, and I don't mind telling you that I hoped some day to make her my wife. Of course, I had not the remotest idea that she was connected in any way with Samuel Flower, or probably I should have attempted to restrain my feelings. But she knows that I care for her, and I feel pretty sure that she cares for me. And when I was saying good-bye to her the night before last in the drawing-room at Maldon Grange, Flower came in, and--and----"

"You needn't go into details," Vardon smiled. "As an engaged man, I can imagine the rest. It is plain what Flower intends to do. He has found you out, and he means to drive you away from Oldborough. Most men would have forbidden you the house and commanded the lady to have no more to do with you. But that is not Flower's method. What you have to do is to fight him. If you had this money, do you think you could manage to do it? I mean, is this the only big debt you have?"

"The other matters are pinpricks," Wilfrid said. "If I could get this sum I dare say I could pull through. But the time is short, and I haven't a single friend in the world worth a sixpence."

"It might be managed," Vardon said cautiously. "I don't say it will, mind you. There is just a chance. I have got a client in Castlebridge who does a bit in this way, and possibly he may take up your security. You will find him rather expensive, but he is honest, and as long as he sees you are making a genuine attempt to pay him off, will not worry you. As I told you just now, I am going into Castlebridge by the 9.15 train, and you had better come with me and see my client for yourself. I shall probably get my business finished by a quarter past ten, and then we will go round and call on the old gentleman."

"I cannot say how much I am obliged to you," Wilfrid said gratefully. "I shall only be too pleased to go with you. I will have no peace till this matter is settled."

It was a little after half-past nine when Wilfrid and his companion reached Castlebridge, and made their way through the crowded streets towards the wooden structure which had been erected by the Imperial Circus Company for their winter season.

"We will go in and watch the performance for half an hour," Vardon suggested. "By that time I believe my client will be disengaged. I don't care much for this class of entertainment, but it is better than loafing about in the cold streets. I'll leave a message at the box office to say in what part of the house I am to be found when my man is ready for me."

The performance was typical of its kind. The packed audience followed the various items with rapt attention. There were the usual ladies in spangles and short skirts, riding barebacked and jumping through paper hoops; the gorgeous ring-master and the inevitable clowns; the flare of lamps and the pungent smell of sawdust. To Wilfrid the whole thing was slow and monotonous to the last degree, and he was glad when one of the attendants whispered something in Vardon's ear.

"Come along," the latter said. "I see you want to get out of this. My man is waiting in the office at the back of the stables."

They soon reached the office, where three individuals were lounging, two of whom went out directly Mr. Vardon came in. The remaining figure was a gigantic negro fully six feet six in height, who grinned as Vardon came forward.

"My client," Vardon whispered. "Wait outside, Mercer."

Wilfrid made no reply. In Vardon's client he recognized the negro he had seen near Maldon Grange.

*CHAPTER XIII*

*AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE*

The discovery did not startle Mercer as much as it otherwise might have done. There had been so many strange events during the last two days that an incident like this was trifling by comparison. Still it had its bearing upon the central mystery, and Wilfred was not disposed to underrate its importance. He wondered why he had not connected the negro of the night before with the Imperial Circus, for the big negro was the kind of man to be attached to this sort of undertaking. And this having been established it followed logically that the strange little men were to be identified with the circus also. Wilfrid felt glad he had come. He had forgotten about his own affairs in the excitement of the moment.

"I hope you won't mind," he whispered hurriedly to his companion, "but I should rather like to hear what takes place between you and your interesting client. I know the request is unusual, but I have the strongest reasons for making it, as I will explain to you presently."

"Well, it is irregular," Vardon said dubiously. "Still, there is no great secret about the matter. The negro is charged with an assault, and I have been asked to defend him. You can sit down and smoke a cigarette and hear as much or as little as you like."

Fortunately the negro's English was good enough. Probably he had been in the country for a long time. He stated his case clearly, and, so far as Wilfrid could gather, he relied for his defence on an alibi.

"It was like this, sir," he said. "There were a lot of soldiers over here from the barracks last night, and most of them had been drinking. Mr. Gordon, he stood it as long as he could, and then the men were offered their money back to leave. The noise got worse and worse till at last we were obliged to turn them out. They say that I followed them down the road and struck one of them, who is now in hospital, so violent a blow that he fell and hurt his head. They say that there was no cause for me to do this at all. I say that they made a mistake, because I was away from the circus on business last night and did not get back till half-past eleven. If you will ask Mr. Gordon he will prove that what I say is true."

"In that case, there is an end of the whole business," Vardon said cheerfully. "I should like to have a few words with Mr. Gordon."

The negro hesitated and appeared to be confused.

"Must we do that, sir?" he asked. "You see, I was away on very important business. I had to go and look for two men who were missing. If I am asked questions about them I shall not be able to answer. But I am telling the truth, sir, when I say that I was away last night, and Mr. Gordon will tell you the same thing."

Wilfrid could have told Vardon so, too, but he held his tongue. It was singular that circumstances should have placed him in a position to prove the truth of the negro's words. It was strange, too, that the African should have been so eager to conceal his movements on the previous evening. Vardon listened impatiently.

"But that is all nonsense," he said. "You don't seem to understand what a serious position you are in. A man in hospital is badly hurt. He declares that he gave you no provocation whatever, and he has a score of witnesses to prove that your attack was brutal and uncalled for. If you can't prove beyond a doubt that you were elsewhere last night, you will be committed to take your trial at the Assizes, and at the very least you will not get off under two years' imprisonment. In any case, the _alibi_ will be a difficult one to establish; all the more because negroes of your size are not to be found wandering about in every country road. Now, are you alone here? Have you any fellow-countrymen in the circus?"

"Two," the Ethiopian replied. "Only two besides myself. But the others are men just about the usual size, and they were in the stable all the time."

"That is rather awkward," Vardon murmured. "Still, as we are not very far from Chatham, where there are sailors of all kinds, it is possible that one of your own countrymen about your own build might have been coming along at the time. As those fellows were all more or less intoxicated some insulting remarks might have been made. Still, it is in your own hands. And unless Mr. Gordon comes forward and speaks for you, your position is by no means a safe one."

The negro began to comprehend now. He glanced uneasily at the face of his lawyer.

"I'll go and see, sir," he said.

He came back presently with a large, florid-looking individual, loudly dressed and smoking an exceedingly strong cigar. The pattern of his clothing proclaimed the man, as also did his white bowler hat, which was jauntily cocked on the side of his head. Wilfrid hardly needed to look at the man to recognize him as the individual who had been driving the dogcart near Maldon Grange the night before. Indeed, Wilfrid would have been surprised to see anybody else.

"This is Mr. Gordon, sir," the negro said.

"Quite at your disposal," the proprietor of the circus said floridly. "This poor chap of mine seems to have got himself into trouble. But whatever those drunken scamps say, Sam is innocent, for the simple reason he wasn't here last night. He was out on important business for me; in fact, we were out together. It is rather a nuisance because I don't want our errand to become public property, as it had to do with two of my troupe who had absconded. We have only been in England two or three days and within twenty-four hours those fellows took French leave. A great nuisance it is, too, because they were down for a turn which would have packed the circus for the next month to come. And I give you my word for it, I picked up those two fellows at Marseilles where they were absolutely starving. And after costing me thirty or forty pounds between them, they go off and leave me in the lurch like this. Still, I can speak plainly enough now because they have vanished again. I thought I had them safe and sound last night, but those chaps are slippery as eels. I am not going to trouble any more about them and I'll just cut my loss and let them slide. And now, sir, I am prepared to go into the witness-box and take my oath that Sam here was with me in my cart ten miles from Castlebridge at the moment when the assault was committed. Is that good enough?"

Wilfrid could have testified the same had he chosen to do so, but it was not for him to speak then. He had learnt a great deal the last ten minutes. He had learnt that the two mysterious men who had caused such commotion at Maldon Grange were foreigners who had been members of the circus troupe. It was obvious, too, why they had signed an agreement with Gordon. They had been eager to come to England, and for that reason had jumped at Gordon's offer. Perhaps they had ascertained that, sooner or later, the wanderings of the circus would bring them in more or less close contact with Samuel Flower. An absence from the circus the night before was easily explained. But after being brought back again to Castlebridge why had they disappeared in this extraordinary fashion? Beyond all doubt they had made up their minds to murder Samuel Flower, but their work was far from being accomplished. Therefore, why had they gone? Were they following Flower? Had they already discovered that he had gone to London where he was likely to remain for the next few days?

Wilfrid would have liked to ask the negro and his employer a few pertinent questions, but, perhaps, it was wiser not to do so for the present. He sat there quietly until Vardon intimated that he did not require the negro any longer, seeing that he had in Mr. Gordon a witness who was sufficient for his purpose. As the African left the office Wilfrid followed. Without arousing the negro's suspicions he might, by two or three promiscuous questions, learn something of the two men of whom he was in search. The negro was walking along at the back of the circus, where most of the lamps were extinguished now, save an occasional naphtha flare near the spot where the men were attending to the horses. It might have been Wilfrid's fancy, but it seemed to him that the African glanced cautiously about him from time to time as if afraid of being followed. Mercer made a wide sweep into the darkness of the field, then waited to see what was likely to happen. He was rewarded for his diligence, for the negro stopped under a tree and proceeded to light a cigarette. The evening was calm and still so that the match flared brightly and steadily. In the narrow circle of light stood another figure in evening dress, his coat unbuttoned. Just for an instant the circle of light fell upon his face and Wilfrid had no difficulty in recognizing the features of Samuel Flower. Then the match died away and the gloom became all the deeper. By the time that Wilfrid had thought it prudent to creep up to the tree, Flower and his companion had vanished. Which way they had gone Wilfrid did not know. Not that it much mattered. Still, the discovery was worth making and Wilfrid returned to the circus in a thoughtful frame of mind. He was passing through the office again when a hand was laid upon his arm. He turned abruptly.

"Swan Russell!" he exclaimed. "Fancy seeing you here! I thought you were at the other side of the globe."

*CHAPTER XIV*

*RUSSELL EXPLAINS*

The stranger was a lean, spare man with not an ounce of superfluous flesh. He looked like a man that did not know the meaning of fatigue. His face was brown and tanned; his keen grey eyes looked out under bushy brows; the outline of a stubborn chin showed under a ragged moustache. Swan Russell had the air of one who has seen men and things, and his aspect did not belie him. For the rest, he was an adventurer to his finger tips, always ready to take his life in his hands, always eager for anything that promised excitement and danger. He had been first on the field in many a gold rush. He had a keen nose for locality where money is to be made. And yet, despite his shrewdness and energy, he had always remained a poor man. Perhaps it was his very restlessness, his inability to stay in one place long, that kept him in a condition bordering upon poverty.

"It is strange you should be here to-night," Wilfrid said.

"Not in the least," the other replied, "because I came on purpose to look for you. I found out in Oldborough that you had come here with Mr. Vardon, and then I elicited the fact that you were somewhere about the circus. Isn't it rather funny you should find yourself settled down within a stone's throw of Samuel Flower's house?"

Wilfrid started. Whoever he met, or wherever he went now, it seemed that Flower's name was doomed to crop up.

"What do you know about him?" he asked.

"Quite as much as you do," Russell retorted, "and perhaps a little more. Oh, I haven't forgotten about that mutiny on the _Guelder Rose_. If I recollect, you had a lucky get-out there. Flower is not the man to forgive a thing of that sort, and if he could not have obtained evidence to convict you, he wouldn't have had the slightest hesitation in buying it. In the circumstances, wasn't it rather risky to settle down here?"