Read Ebook: The Burglars' Club: A Romance in Twelve Chronicles by Hering Henry Augustus Townsend F H Frederick Henry Illustrator

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 1143 lines and 42150 words, and 23 pages

"Which is the plate room?" asked the lady.

"This is the door of the plate room," the porter replied. "Anyone enterin' without authority, day or night, sets in action two peals of electric bells, and aut'matic'ly discharges a revolver shot through the sky-light."

"How very interesting!" the lady remarked. "Now I must find my picture." She looked round the room, and finally selected one.

"Jeremiah Crumpet," said the porter. "A haberdasher by birth, but eventually Junior Warden of our Company. Painted by Merillo. Never gettin' beyond pot'ooks 'imself, he founded the Company's Schools at Ashby de la Zouch."

"I'll tell you what, Maria," said Mr. Jeckell some hours later. "If she's a hartist I ought to be President of the Royal Academy. I never saw such drawin' in my life. She can't get his face square nohow. He's smilin' in the picture, but she's made him lockjawed an' moonstruck. She says if she can't get him right she'll have to turn him into a shipwreck. She must be what the papers call an himpressionist. She spoke twice about the plate room, so I've wheeled my chair into the 'all to keep my eye on her. I'll go back now and see what she's hup to."

Mr. Jeckell would have wondered less at her drawing if he could have seen the note the lady had referred to in his absence:

"An attempt will be made during the next three days to steal a cup from the plate chest at the Fellmongers' Hall. For certain reasons warning of this must not come to the authorities from without. Apply for permission to copy painting or to sketch interior, and watch. Should any other than the Company's servant enter the plate room suggest doubt as to his credentials, and do all you can to secure his arrest. Another agent will watch the premises from 5 p.m. to 9 a.m."

While Mr. Jeckell was on his way to his chair there came another peal from the front-entrance bell. A man in a bowler hat, and carrying a handbag, was outside.

"Mr. Toft has sent me for the Nelson Goblet," he said.

The porter was surprised. "Got a note?" he asked.

"The guv'ner gave me this," said the man, handing a card, "and the key."

"What does he want it for?" Mr. Jeckell asked.

"Got a big guzzle on at 'ome. Wants to cut an extra dash in centre-pieces."

Mr. Jeckell shook his head gravely, but made no remark. "Come along," he said shortly.

He led the way across the vestibule into the Banqueting Hall, where, behind her easel, a lady was evidently busy with her picture. He stopped at a door, which he unlocked, and both men passed through. Barely had they done so when the artist ran from behind her easel into the outer hall. "Mrs. Jeckell! Mrs. Jeckell!" she called out.

The porter's wife appeared.

"A man has gone into the plate room with your husband. I'm sure he is a thief. Warn Mr. Jeckell to get full authority before he does what this man wants."

"Gracious me!" cried the alarmed Mrs. Jeckell. "A thief! He may be murderin' Samuel!"

She rushed across to the plate room, and in a minute a storm of voices proceeded therefrom. Finally the three emerged, two hot and flurried, and the stranger, looking cool and determined, carrying a bag in one hand and a gold cup in the other. The porter hung on to his arm.

The artist was in front of the door. When she saw the man with the bag and cup she gave a little gasp of surprise, and a wave of colour overspread her face.

The man seemed equally astonished. "You!" he said at last.

"They're both thieves," whispered Mrs. Jeckell to her husband. "They're acting in collision. I'll shout for the perlice while you keep 'em." And she ran from the room.

"You are in danger," said the artist rapidly in French. "Put the cup in your pocket. Give me the bag, and knock the porter down."

The man obeyed with the promptitude of a soldier. Leaving Mr. Jeckell prostrate on the floor, they hurried from the Hall. At the street door was Mrs. Jeckell, wildly beckoning to a distant policeman.

"You take down there," said the artist. "Good-bye." She ran off in the opposite direction, still holding the bag, and dived down a side street.

Mrs. Jeckell grew frantically insistent to the policeman, who now came up. "Which one?" he puffed.

"The man. No, it's in the bag. Both of 'em," she cried.

At this moment her husband appeared at the door, with blood streaming from his nose. "They've killed Samuel," cried his horrified wife, running to him; but the policeman, though he wore the badge of St. John of Jerusalem on his arm, dashed down the street after the lady.

But Mr. Toft was less demonstrative than might have been expected.

The next gathering of the Burglars' Club proved the most important in the history of the Club since its foundation. Every detail of it is firmly impressed on the memory of each member present; yet they never by any chance refer to that meeting. One and all would like to forget it--if they could.

It was held at Marmaduke Percy's rooms, his Grace of Dorchester, the President of the year, being in the chair.

The Secretary read the minutes, and concluded: "The business of the evening is the payment of an entrance fee--the Nelson Goblet of the Fellmongers' Company--by Martin Legendre Craven, fourth Baron Horton, a cadet member of the Club."

Lord Horton entered, bowed, and amidst general applause, placed on the table a richly-chased goblet of gold.

"Lord Horton's entrance fee being paid," said the President, "I now move that he be enrolled as a full member." Carried unanimously.

"My lord, you are one of us."

"Your Grace, my lords and gentlemen," he said. "I thank you. In accordance with the usual custom of your Club I will explain how I have been able to fulfil my appointed duty. I received an intimation that the Nelson Goblet of the Fellmongers' Company was my entrance fee, and at once took steps to procure it. The matter was hardly difficult. A list of the Company showed me that the treasurer and plate-keeper was a certain Mr. Toft. The directory informed me that he was a steam-tug owner and a contractor to the Admiralty. Inquiry there told me he was under suspicion of bribery and corruption. I played on this little weakness of his, and, if I am not mistaken, I frightened him into the paths of virtue for the rest of his days. In return, he lent me the key of the plate safe of his Company. In broad daylight I proceeded for my booty. To my surprise, I found that I was expected. Someone had placed an agent on the spot to warn the custodian of the building of my intention. An alarm was raised. My lords and gentlemen, at whose instigation was that alarm raised?"

Lord Horton paused. Members looked at each other in mystified amazement. What on earth was he driving at? Was he waiting for a reply?

The silence grew painful. "Who instigated that alarm?" again the speaker asked.

A voice replied, "Presumably Mr. Toft."

"'Presumably Mr. Toft.' Sir Francis Marwood, I thank you for the suggestion. To continue. An alarm was raised by the agent of someone unknown. This agent was a lady who did not know that she was betraying an old friend. A minute later we were face to face. Instantly she pierced through my disguise, and by her presence of mind and fertility of resource alone did I escape."

"Like Sir Francis Marwood, I thought my betrayer was Mr. Toft, and I hastened to interview that gentleman. I found him in a state of extreme nervous prostration, but I left him convinced that it was not he who had betrayed me. So your suggestion, Sir Francis Marwood, is wrong. Can you give me another clue?"

Sir Francis did not reply. He looked uncomfortable at the attention bestowed upon his remark.

"My next step was to trace the lady who had helped me. That also was not difficult. I did not know she was in England, but being here I concluded that the Foreign Office would have her address. I was not mistaken. I found my friend, and learnt that she had her instructions to raise an alarm from--mark the name well, gentlemen--from Sir Francis Marwood, a member of this Club."

Had a live shell fallen into their midst it would probably have caused less consternation than did this announcement. There was an involuntary exclamation from everyone. For a moment all eyes were fixed on Sir Francis. Then each man drew himself up and stared blankly into space.

"The fame of your Club had reached me, and the novelty of its membership appealed to me." Again Lord Horton was speaking. "I felt that its risks would give a pleasing zest to civilian life, but I did not know that members were allowed to pay off old scores on each other through its medium. Last year I considered it my duty to advise against Sir Francis Marwood's appointment to Lisbon. This was his revenge. I was prepared to run any and all risks from without, but did not anticipate betrayal from within. Gentlemen, you have done me the honour to elect me as a member of your Club. I have paid my subscription. Now I beg to tender my resignation."

"No, no!" responded on all sides. Then cries of "Marwood! Marwood!"

"Order!" called the Duke. "Sir Francis Marwood, we are waiting."

Sir Francis rose. He was a man of some distinction in the diplomatic world.

"Gentlemen," he said, making a desperate attempt to speak his words lightly; "I really did not anticipate the matter would be taken up in this serious way. I do not dispute the accuracy of Lord Horton's statement, though I absolutely deny the motive he has ascribed to me. The reason of my action was simple. This Club was formed by us, not merely for passing time, but for keeping up our wits in degenerate days. To such a man as Lord Horton I felt that the purloining of the Fellmongers' Goblet must fall flat indeed. I have read the marvellous account of his adventures in Thibet, and I felt that some further spice of danger in this particular affair was necessary to make it worthy of Lord Horton's reputation. I took the liberty of supplying it, though perhaps in so doing I exceeded my rights. If so, I tender my regrets."

Sir Francis resumed his seat amidst loudly expressed disapprobation.

The President rose. "Gentlemen," he said, "you have heard Lord Horton's charge and Sir Francis Marwood's reply. Our Club can exist only as long as there is absolute good faith between its members, and I never dreamt of anything less than this being possible. Two duties are obviously mine. The first, Sir Francis Marwood, is to inform you that you are no longer a member of the Club. The second is to express our sincere regrets to Lord Horton, and our earnest hope that he will reconsider his resignation."

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet