'Right yer are, miss!'
As I sat back in the cab, I thought quietly over this business. Certainly it would never do to drive the man to extremities and let him communicate with Lady L. Neither could I think of worrying Papa, or of dragging him into the affair. It would set all my mother's worst suspicions at work. She would never stop till she had wormed out something damaging to us both. It would cause endless trouble. It was not to be thought of. Eveline was in a somewhat tight place now, if ever she was.
The cab went gaily along through the square, up Long Acre until it arrived at the corner of Bow Street. There the traffic was more congested. The hansom went at a walking pace. Exactly as I arrived opposite the Police Station, I saw a constable by the curb, I beckoned him.
'Come here, please-stop this cab immediately. I must see Sir Langham Beamer-don't lose sight of the driver!'
The policeman went to the horse's head. He called another man from the doorway. He spoke to the man with the hare-lip. The cab drew up to the curb exactly before the stone doorway over which was written 'Police.' The policeman politely opened the doors of the hansom. He handed me out.
'We have his number, the man can't go away.'
'You will find the Inspector in the office, miss. The Court is up.'
I went in. I handed my card to the Inspector. I asked to see Sir Langham Beamer.
'Is it private business? Sir Langham's in his room-but I'll take the card in with pleasure, miss.'
He had a good look at me. Evidently he admired me. He was a very fine man, tall and powerfully built-exactly the sort of man to suit Eveline-to be also the terror of the evildoer. I flashed a glance at him before he disappeared.
'Sir Langham will see you at once, miss. Will you please to walk this way?'
It was quite easy to stumble on the thick doormat-so very natural that Inspector Walker should catch me by the hand. It was also even necessary for us to hold on, so that he could squeeze my soft kid glove in his strong palm, because I might have fallen.
'So you have found your way already? So very glad you did not forget the old man of the lock up. Ha, ha!'
'Oh, Sir Langham! How could I so soon forget you and your kind invitation. But I must not make that my excuse even for venturing to trouble you now.'
The dear old gentleman was seated at a large table. Before him was a luncheon tray with a cover for one. He had risen with the air of an old beau as I entered. He pressed me into a chair and reseated himself.
'Well, what can I do for you, my dear young lady? By the way, how charming you look today! You will not object to the presence of my lunch. If you permit me, I will commence my chop. Nothing in all the universe so good after all as a real London mutton chop-mind-a loin chop-none of your chump chops-but a loin chop like this-ha, ha!'
The cheery old gentleman raised the tempting morsel on his fork for my inspection. I duly admired it. In fact I had no appetite just then for chops.
'I wish I had another to offer you. How's Sir Edward? Grand man, Sir Edward! Why did you not bring him too? Not but that I am naturally charmed to have a tete-a-tete with-permit an old boy like me the privilege-with so beautiful a young lady as you, Miss L-.'
'It's about a cabman. The man is here.'
'Ah! Disputed fare, no doubt. These fellows like to get hold of an inexperienced young creature like you, my dear child.'
'No, no, it's more serious than that, Sir Langham. The man thinks he has a secret, and demands a large sum of money to keep it.'
The police magistrate put down his knife and fork. All his professional instincts immediately awoke.
'Ah! Why that must be strange! You can have no secrets worth the fellows' keeping-it sounds like blackmail. Are you sure there is no mistake? You say the man is here?'
'Yes, I came here in his cab. The policemen have taken his number.'
Sir Langham touched his little silver gong. Inspector Walker appeared. Sir Langham gave an order in an undertone. Then the Inspector vanished, but not before our glances had crossed.
'Now tell me all about it.'
'A few nights ago I went to the Opera with Papa. I had not been feeling well all day and had foolishly gone without any dinner. At the Opera I felt the heat, and the noise of the music seemed to stun me. Papa guessed the cause. He proposed we should leave. As it was late and the servants had orders not to await our return on such occasions, Sir Edward suggested going for some supper to a restaurant. We went to one they call the 'Up-to-Date.' There we supped. Afterwards papa called a cab-this man's cab-which was at the door, and we drove home direct. I went in with my latchkey. Papa went away along the street for some fresh air before 'turning in,' as he calls it.'
'Well, my dear young lady-I'm as wise as ever.'
'But please wait a moment, Sir Langham. On another occasion Papa and I arranged to sup there again. This cabman was there once more. Sir Edward put me into the hansom and gave the driver our address. Then he said good night, and kissed me as I sat in the cab. He walked straight off to his club, having an appointment.'
'I confess I do not see how any trouble could come out of all that, my child. With Sir Edward, your father, you were quite safe anywhere. Besides you have already so perfect a character among your friends for prudence-I hear it everywhere.'
'But here is where the trouble is. You are perfectly aware my mother is an invalid. She has no sympathy for poor papa. Of course, Sir Langham, I am speaking to you in all confidence. My mother is not affectionate to me, her only daughter. Strange as it may appear, she more than dislikes me. Her illness is to a great extent self-caused. She has a habit which we fear is rooted.'
'Yes, yes, I have heard that before. Well?'
'If my mother were to hear that my papa had taken me to such a place for supper, she would be furious. She would make his life more wretched and unbearable than it is. She would never rest until she had fastened on his a character for frequenting fast places, and even worse-for permitting his daughter to accompany him! You know how good and noble he is? It would kill him. She must not know.'
The tears stood in my eyes. I am told I am at such moments more seraphically beautiful than usual.
'Now I understand. Confound the fellow! He has taken your companion for a friend. He thinks he has a pull out of the affair. Putting it all together, with my knowledge of the world, I can see his drift. You are right, your mother must not know. Leave it to me. You have done quite right to come to me.'
The magistrate touched his gong. The Inspector entered. He laid a sheet of parchment and an oval badge with a strap on the table. He stood awaiting orders.
'Walker, please bring that cabman in here and leave us together.'
A few seconds later the driver with the hare-lip stood before the police magistrate. His old air of insolent triumph had given place to a pallid and dejected look which plainly told his tale of apprehension and alarm.
Sir Langham glanced at the parchment.
'This is your license is it, my man? I see it has one endorsement already. You have been here before.'
'It wasn't my fault, please your worship.'
'Of course not. The present business is, however, likely to have considerably more serious consequences for you. This young lady charges you with demanding a sum of ten pounds from her under a threat. Now, do you know where that takes you, my man? If proved, it means under the new act six months if I have the case before me, but-stop! Listen-don't interrupt. If I send you for trial at the Old Bailey, as I certainly should, it would mean five years penal servitude.'
A still more significant change came over the cabman. He actually trembled. I thought he was going to faint. He steadied himself by leaning his arm against the doorpost.
'I hope the young lady will not go on with it. I hope you will forgive me, miss-I promise.'
'Never mind about your promises, my man. If this young lady, whom you have mistaken and insulted, decides not to prosecute you, you may think yourself sufficiently lucky. You can go. There are your badge and your license. I shall not put on another endorsement, but I shall make a note of this affair, and if ever you come here again, you shall lose your license altogether, for it will be canceled.'
