There was a rumour in the air that "Thunder-and-Lightning" was coming to Melbourne, in his dare-devil way, to give the citizens a taste of his quality. He had an overweening conceit of himself, and thought he was a match for all the police in the country.
I went down to the office and reported to the superintendent the duty I was entrusted with. He gave me carte-blanche; then I went home to efface myself, which I effectually did by putting on a false beard, staining my eyebrows, and dressing myself like a digger.
When I had completed my disguise to my entire satisfaction, I felt my face flush like the red stripe in the French flag, then white like the next stripe, then I looked very blue indeed. I was a regular chameleon, and never felt like this before. The cause of all this was the sudden remembrance of the last words the Governor said to me, "The watchword is 'Down.'" It was a conundrum. I gave it up.
CHAPTER II
I happened to be lodging in the house of Mrs. Smith, an old widow, whom I had known in Scotland. I came and went just as I liked, having a key of the front door. I managed to keep my occupation very dark. When I was new to the trade I thought of telling the landlady who I was, for she was a discreet body; but I remembered just in time that women's tongues are hung on so fine a balance they cannot help wagging and flopping out any secret—being anxious to unload and take in fresh cargo. If they have no better listeners, they will whisper to a bird of the air, or the four winds. I come from too far north to trust a woman with a secret, so I did not tell Mrs. Smith I was a detective. There is only one woman I tell secrets to, and that is my wife. If I did not tell her, she would get them out of me, so I make a virtue of necessity. Confession is good for the soul.
It began to rain cats and dogs, or more like elephants and rhinoceroses, for it came down heavy. The street gutters ran like rivers, and joined each other in the middle of the road, shaking hands, bobbing, courtesying, and carrying all the floatable rubbish to the Yarra. The only living things I saw were half a dozen fowls of some sort, splashing themselves and ducking in the water. The windows were so blurred I could not make out what they were till I heard them say "Quack!" "A fine day," I said to myself, "for ducks, geese, and detectives." The wetter the day the surer you are of your game. It lies close on such days, and one may expect a feast of contentment when one knows it is spitted with a broad arrow on back, hip, or thigh, simmering in the jug—I mean gaol. Jugged hare, shall we say?
I determined to go out, so I put on an india-rubber coat and boots. I had never seen a detective with an umbrella, therefore I took one with me as an extra disguise and crept down stairs. The maid-of-all-work had stopped halfway, and had a pail in her hand when I came upon her unawares. She took a hasty glance at me, then fled two steps at a jump, dropping the pail at the bottom. Then she threw her apron over her head, and played blindman's-buff, till she lumbered into the kitchen and fell all of a heap.
I heard Mrs. Smith say, in a voice of alarm, "What is the matter, Mary Ann?"