“I think one thing is certain,” said I, “that Adèle is not in this town: it’s much too busy for Rose Noble. Rouse has gone to ground in some house of call—some lodging or other they’ve taken down in that close. And, unless there’s a back way out, I don’t think he’ll leave before dark. If I am right and the house is a meeting-place, there’s no reason why he should, for he can send word to Rose Noble by someone we’ve never seen.”
“That’s encouraging,” said Hanbury. “Not that it seems a very popular walk: only five people have used it since I’ve been here. But it’s early yet and—well, there’s a man coming now. He doesn’t look very likely, but then they never do.”
“I don’t see what we can do,” said I, “until we know which is the house. You can’t run after a man just because he comes out of that close. It’s suspicious, of course, but we’re only six, all told, and, until we’ve got more to go on—”
“Sir,” said Bell, “that’s the man. He was on the quay at Dieppe.”
IV
The Castle of Gath
There was no time to make any plan.
The man was walking fast, and, as I have shown, Lass was no better than a maze.
With one consent, the three of us rushed to the door, and, while Hanbury was speaking the bookseller, Bell and I stepped directly into the street.
Mercifully a cart was standing not six feet away, and as we darted behind it, I saw that we had before us the very deuce of a task. The man was, of course, on his guard and knew us by sight: the hour was early, and, though the shops were open—because, I suppose, it was Market day—there were not twenty people in view: yet, had the street been crowded, our dress was fatally distinctive and had only to be seen to betray us and our design.
In a flash I had my coat off and had flung it into the cart. I pitched my hat after it, rolled my sleeves to the elbow and, seizing a sack of refuse, which was standing open-mouthed on the kerb, swung this on to my shoulder and started, bent double, down the street. I know the disguise was feeble, but I dared wait no more; and that was as well, for, before I had taken five steps, the man glanced over his shoulder and turned to the left.
We had now a stroke of good fortune, without which I cannot believe that we should have got very far, for it gave us a breathing-space and let me fall back a little and Hanbury and Bell come up.
I had hardly come to the corner, when I saw the fellow enter a tobacconist’s shop.
At once I turned to see Hanbury close behind. He was wearing a black overcoat, green with age, and the bookseller’s hat, which came down over his ears. In his hands was a newspaper, open as though to be read.
“Watch the tobacconist’s,” I said, and dashed between two houses to tear off my collar and tie.
As I returned a man passed, wheeling a bicycle. His form seemed familiar, and, when I looked at him again, I saw that it was Bell. He had no coat, hat or collar; his trousers were clipped at the ankle and seemed to be falling down; his face and hands were filthy beyond compare. He glanced down the street on his left, and, there, I suppose, seeing Hanbury, picked up his cue and turned.
As I came again to the corner, our man came out of his shop. For a moment he looked about, him, but seeing, I imagine, nothing at all suspicious, presently turned on his heel and went his way.
He was a tall, loose-limbed fellow, with a pasty face: he walked as though he liked the look of himself and wore his hat cocked on one side: and, since I presently learned that he was called “Casemate,” from now on I will speak of him by name.
I was slouching along behind him, still shouldering my sack, very conscious of my respectability and full of admiration for Bell, when I saw a crowd gathered ahead, where the street bellied into a place in front of a church. This seemed to interest Casemate, for all his haste, for I saw him peering to see what the matter might be; but, when he was nearer, he suddenly turned away and passed by on the opposite pavement, with his eyes on the ground.
I was wondering at his behaviour, when the crowd began to move and then fall away Then I saw a familiar bonnet and Mansel, with Rowley beside him, driving a Rolls. Behind came Carson.
Now such a meeting was more than I could have hoped for, for I had been racking my brain for some way in which to find Mansel and tell him what was afoot. Yet, though we were so happily met, I dared make no sign, for Casemate had his chin on his shoulder, and I could not have caught Mansel’s eye without catching his.
Going as slowly as I dared, with the tail of my eye I watched the car draw abreast; but the crowd was about her wings, and Mansel never looked up. I could have stamped for vexation, for Hanbury was shuffling upon the far side of the street, and Bell was already by. Then Carson cried out a warning and I heard a clatter and crash. Bell had wheeled his
