By Birth A Lady Part 32

"And how did you know that?" said Charley, who could not help feeling amused.

"How did I know that, sir?" grinned the man. "It's a sort of instinkt, sir, as is only possessed by drivers of kebs. Here you are, sir--number nineteen. Up on the first floor for Mr Whittrick."

Charley leaped out, ran up the stairs indicated; and directly after he was in the office of Mr Whittrick, of private-inquiry celebrity.

Volume 2, Chapter XVII.

PRIVATE-INQUIRY.

Waiting your turn in a dull cheerless room along with half a dozen more people who always seem oil to your water or _vice versa_, so as to insure non-mixing, is about one of the most unpleasant things in life.

It is bad enough at the doctor's, where you sit and wonder what is the matter with your neighbours right or left, and whether their complaints are infectious; but at a private-inquiry office at a busy time it is ten times worse. There is such a general disposition evinced by everybody to turn his back on everybody else; an act which the actor soon finds out to be an utter impossibility; for though he gets on very well with respect to two or three, he soon finds that, however clever a mathematician he may be, he cannot place himself in the required position; and, as a matter of course, he turns rusty, and resents the presence of the other waiters--waiters, of course not in the hotel and coffee-room sense of the term.

To do Charley Vining justice, he was as ill-tempered as any one present; but he refrained from showing it, and tried to tranquillise his mind into a state of wonderment as to the business of others present. Was there any one seeking the address of some daughter or sister very dear?--was any one moved by the tender pa.s.sion? It did not seem like it, judging from the countenances around.

One lady of vinegary aspect was evidently in search of a husband who had vanished; while on the other side was a little squeezy mild man, who might have come on a similar errand respecting a wife. The gentleman in speckless black, with papers in his hand tied with red tape, looked legal, and took snuff or pounce frequently from a small box, which he tapped with considerable grace, so as to bring the dust from the corner into a heap in the centre. His mission was evidently respecting a legatee, heir-at-law, administrator, executor, or a.s.sign, whose presence was necessary for the completion of some deed, doc.u.ment, or preamble as aforesaid.

What a wheezy stout man wanted was doubtful; but it was evident that the quiet-looking una.s.suming man who came out softly from the inner sanctum, and in one glance took down and mentally recorded all who were present, had something to do with order as well as law.

And it was so, in fact; for the quiet una.s.suming man was Mr Orger, of the detective department of Great Scotland-yard, who, after a fortnight of unavailing search for some gentleman who was wanted, did not think it derogatory to his dignity to seek counsel--on the principle of two heads being better than one--from his old friend and fellow-inspector Mr Whittrick, of the detective force formerly, but now professionally engaged upon his own account.

Charley's turn at last, just as he had come to the conclusion that he would wait no longer, but call another day, when there were not so many private inquirers.

Obeying a signal, he was shown into a well-furnished room with a couple of tables, at one of which, whose top was covered with papers, sat a very ordinary-looking man, in a black-velvet cap; at the other, which bore a telegraphic dial, were a couple of clerks busily writing.

"Perhaps you will step this way," said the man of the black-velvet cap, mentally photographing his visitor the while; and Charley followed him to an inner room, where, taking the seat offered, he paid certain fees and stated his case.

"Young lady--deep mourning--fair--grey eyes--luxuriant hair," muttered the private-inquiry high-priest, as he took notes during Charley's explanations, trying hard to suppress a smile as he saw his client's earnestness. "Came up from Laneton on the 9th, to the South Midland Terminus," he continued.

"Well, Mr Vining?"

"Well," said Charley, "I must have her address found!"

"The information you give is very meagre, sir," said Mr Whittrick quietly.

"It is, I know," said Charley impetuously: "but I must have that address.

"Here," he exclaimed, drawing out his porte-monnaie and placing a couple of crisp new ten-pound notes upon the table, "do not stand for expense.

That is all I have with me; but tell me what you require, and you shall have it."

"Thanks, sir," said Mr Whittrick quietly, as he transferred the notes to his pocket-book, after entering the transaction and the numbers in a book. "But you give us the credit of great powers, sir."

"Well," said Charley, "you have great powers: telegraphy and a cordon of spies, I have no doubt. All you require is something to set the mechanism at work, and I tell you frankly I am ready to supply that something liberally."

"You would not consider those two notes ill spent for a little certain information, I suppose, sir?"

"No, nor double!" said Charley hastily.

"Good," said Mr Whittrick; and rising, he took a whistle from the mouth of a speaking-tube in the wall, whispered a few words, and then applied his ear.

The answer came in half a minute; and then he gave some other order, replugged the tube, and sitting down, made some remark touching the present ministry.

"But I am keeping you," said Charley, who took the remark as an intimation that he might go. "Tell me when I may come again?" he said, rising.

"Stop a bit--stop a bit, Mr Vining: I never like doing things in a hurry. Let's economise time; and we can now you are here," said Mr Whittrick. "It may save my sending to Long's Hotel, and wasting time, and men, and cab-hire, and perhaps not then to find you. I shall have a reply directly to a question I have asked. And, besides, you have entirely omitted to give me the young lady's age and name.--Ah, Smith, that will do," he said, as a clerk entered the room with a sheet of paper.

The clerk left the room; and then, after running through the ma.n.u.script note, Mr Whittrick took out a double eyegla.s.s, rubbed it leisurely, and then fixed it by its spring upon the bridge of his nose.

"You'd be surprised, Mr Vining," he said, "what a deal of difficulty I have to get clerks who write a plain legible hand. I'm a terrible scrawler myself; but then my writing has to keep up with my thoughts, and has to struggle hard, with the certainty of failure always before it. But my clerks are well paid to do nothing else but copy; and really at times, either from hurry or carelessness, their stuff is almost undecipherable. But let me see; I think I have managed this, though."

"Is that anything relating to my search?" said Charley excitedly.

"Stop a minute, my dear sir, and we'll see," said Mr Whittrick; and then he held the slip of paper in his hand as if about to read aloud.

Volume 2, Chapter XVIII.

SECOND-HAND.

At the last words uttered by Mr Whittrick, Charley Vining started forward, and gazed at the speaker as if he would have devoured the ordinary-looking slip of paper rustling before him. It was with the greatest difficulty that he refrained from s.n.a.t.c.hing the memorandum from its holder; for in every respect save one, Mr Whittrick, of the black-velvet cap, was outwardly an excessively slow man. He had crawled to the speaking-tube and crawled back, and when he took the slip of paper from the clerk, it was as if the effort was too much for him--so much, in fact, that he had hard work to wipe his double eyegla.s.ses.

But we said that there was an exception, and this lay in Mr Whittrick's eyes, which gave a sharpness to his whole appearance, as they twinkled and darted and played as it were, while they displayed the activity of their owner's brains.

But, apparently satisfied that if he kept him waiting half an hour longer, Charley Vining would not say anything that would be of service for information of any kind, Mr Whittrick commenced reading:

"9th instant. Miss Ella Bedford, age about twenty; fair; grey eyes; thick braided hair--_not false_; height about five feet two; dressed in deep mourning; arrived by forty-five, a.m., train from Laneton. Robert Wilks, porter, Number 93, called four-wheeled cab, V.R. 09876, John Round driver. Luggage: canvas-covered box, black enamelled bag, and leather wallet, _not addressed_. Set down at 19 Crescent Villas, Regent's-park--Mr Saint Clair Marter's. Cab man paid. No farther communication; but footman averse to taking in luggage, whether from idleness or particular reasons not known; shall know shortly, if necessary. Cab returned to terminus."

"Let me see," continued Mr Whittrick, turning the paper on the other side. "No, that is all we know at present;" and he looked at Charley, who, mute with astonishment, was staring hard at him.

"Why, good heavens! how did you know that?" he cried. "That is all I wanted to know."

"At present--at present!" said Mr Whittrick, with a smile.

"But I expected days of waiting and anxiety," cried Charley, eagerly seizing the paper.

"Possibly," said Mr Whittrick; "but there are times, you see, when we are speedy in our movements."

"But I am astounded!" cried Charley. "You make me almost to believe in magicians."

Mr Whittrick smiled deprecatingly and shrugged his shoulders.

"How did you obtain the information?" cried Charley.

"My dear sir," said Mr Whittrick, "that is my profession. If you go to a doctor and he gives you a prescription which cures you, do you ask him how he discovered his drugs? Of course not. You came to me for a.s.sistance, and showed me that you were ready to pay liberally for that a.s.sistance, and, of course, I set to work instanter."

"But is that--are you sure--that Miss--that the young lady is there?"

"Certainly not," said Mr Whittrick; "some time has pa.s.sed since then.

But I am ready to make affidavit that she was there. Now then, sir, what can I do for you next?"

"Nothing more," said Charley; "I am quite satisfied."