The Burglars' Club Part 18

The flap was cut, and Hilton drew out a richly embroidered and beta.s.selled silk purse.

He looked eagerly inside.

"Hurrah!" he cried in his excitement. For it was the Great Seal of the United Kingdom.

The burglar examined it critically, and then felt its weight. "Five quid," he said, putting it down contemptuously.

Hilton dropped it carefully into his pocket.

At this moment the electric light was suddenly switched on, and the whole place was brilliantly illuminated. They both turned sharply towards the door. There in his dressing-gown stood an old gentleman.

Hilton had often seen those cla.s.sic features in photographs or the ill.u.s.trated papers. He recognised them at once. It was the Lord Chancellor.

"What are you doing here?" came the stern judicial voice.

"We are--er--we are making the Home Circuit, my lord," said Hilton deferentially. "May I ask your lords.h.i.+p to be good enough to lower your voice. You perceive that I am armed."

"You would dare to fire on me, sir?" said the Lord Chancellor.

"I hope it will not be necessary; for in that case your lords.h.i.+p would not hunt next season with the Bister Vale. Will you please take that seat?"

His lords.h.i.+p sank into the chair. "You are a bold man," he said, after a pause.

"A bold, bad man, I fear, my lord. And so is my partner, Mr. William Sikes here. Aren't you, William?"

William did not reply. He was gazing intently at the Lord Chancellor.

"Ain't yer name 'Ardy?" he asked. "'Enery 'Ardy?"

"It used to be," replied his lords.h.i.+p.

"I thought so," said Mr. Sikes. "Then I says to yer face you're a bloomin', footlin' rotter."

"'Gently, brother, gently, pray,'" said Hilton.

"A bloomin', footlin' rotter," repeated Mr. Sikes with the earnestness of conviction. "An' I've waited five-an'-twenty year to tell you so."

"Ah," said the Lord Chancellor, with some interest. "How is that?"

"I once paid you to defend me at the Dawchester 'Sizes respectin' a mare wot 'ad follered me inter 'Amps.h.i.+re. A sickenin' 'ash you made of it.

You got two quid fer the job, an' I got two year. I b'lieve you woz boozed."

"Pray forgive William, my lord," said Hilton. "He forgets himself strangely when he's excited. We have a lot of trouble with him at home."

William glared at him. "I ain't forgot that bloke's ugly mug, any'ow. I swore I'd be quits with 'im one day, an', holy Moses, it's my go now."

Saying this, he clutched his jemmy, and advanced threateningly towards his lords.h.i.+p.

"Stay, you fool!" Hilton cried. "If you dare to touch him I'll shoot you. Get back."

William hesitated.

"If you don't get back before I count three I'll lame you for life.

One--two----"

William retired sullenly.

"My lord," said Hilton, "I must draw this painful interview to a close.

Your presence excites William, and he's always dangerous when excited.

We will retire. Before I go, I wish to give you my word of honour that anything we may take away with us to-night will be again in your possession within forty-eight hours."

"Your word of honour, sir!" repeated his lords.h.i.+p with withering contempt.

"You are ungenerous, my lord. You force me to remind you that but for my interference William would undoubtedly have had his revenge upon you to-night, and the Woolsack have lost its brightest ornament. In return, I ask your lords.h.i.+p to give me your own a.s.surance that you will not raise any alarm for the next half-hour. If you do not we shall have to bind and gag you."

"Don't you be such a fool as to trust 'im," said William. "I'll do the gaggin'," he added, with enthusiasm.

"Shut up, William," said Mr. Hilton. "If his lords.h.i.+p gives his word you may be sure he will keep it--even with thieves. The age of chivalry is not yet past, although you are still alive. My lord, do you agree?"

"I am in your hands. I promise."

Hilton bowed. He pointed to the door to his companion.

"My tools," said William, going round the desk to collect them. A minute later the two had left the room. In five minutes they had scaled the outside wall, and within the half-hour were in Richard Hilton's rooms.

Mr. William Sikes looked round him admiringly.

"I understand your feelings, William," said Mr. Hilton, "but my windows and doors are every night connected with a burglar-alarm, and my man, who was once a noted bruiser, is close at hand. I don't really think it would be safe for you to call again. Now you want your money. I will write a cheque out, payable to bearer, and give it you. If you make yourself nice and tidy they will cash it for you in the morning over the counter at my bank."

"I don't like cas.h.i.+n' cheques at banks," said William. "I never was any good at it," he added pensively. "Ain't you got any rhino in this 'ere shanty?"

"Let me see. You have a tenner of mine in your pocket. Perhaps I can give you some more." Hilton opened a bureau, and produced a cash-box.

"You see where I keep it, William," he remarked pleasantly. "I shall have to find another place for it in future--you are so very impulsive.

Ah, here we are. Three fivers and two--four--six in gold. That makes twenty-one. And where's the sovereign purse I gave you? Thank you. Here are four more: that makes twenty-five; and you have ten: that is thirty-five. Now I'll make a cheque out for the balance--what is it?

Yes; two hundred and fifteen pounds... . Here it is. Perhaps your friend at the Lord Chancellor's bank will present it for you before three o'clock this afternoon, when I shall suddenly find that I have lost the cheque, and shall stop payment."

"Wot do you do that for?" asked William suspiciously.

"I must do it for my own protection, William, as I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise for me to have any direct transactions with you. But until three o'clock the game is in your hands. Now it's time for you to have your beauty sleep. I am much obliged for your a.s.sistance. Good-night. Oh, by the way, let me have my watch, please--and the links. William, I'm afraid you were forgetting them."

"Blow me, but I was," said William frankly, as he dived into his capacious pockets. "My mem'ry ain't wot it used to be, an' I knows it.

Wot with work an' worry, an' worry an' work, it don't 'ave a fair chance. 'Ere you are, Cap'n." And William placed the jewellery in Mr.

Hilton's hands with obvious regret. Then his host showed him off the premises.

It was now four o'clock. Hilton pulled out the Great Seal, and locked it up in a secret drawer in his bureau. Then he retired to rest, in the happy consciousness of a night well spent.

He rose late that morning, and it was one o'clock before he left his rooms. In Piccadilly, on the news posters:

"THE GREAT SEAL OF ENGLAND STOLEN,"