We did not reach Deering till late the next night. The post-office was closed, and I could not obtain the telegrams which I had directed Bob to forward till the morrow. As on the previous day, there were two--one from Bob with no news, the other from Emilia expressing anxiety regarding the continued silence and absence of M. Bordier. I myself considered it strange, and I sympathized with Emilia's unexpressed fears that she had been buoyed up by false hopes. Things altogether were looking gloomy; we seemed to be drifting without a rudder, and my experiences in Deering tended still further to discourage me. There were no traces of the men I was seeking, and after dispatching letters and telegrams to Bob and Emilia, I seriously discussed with myself the advisability of returning to London and awaiting news of M. Bordier. Sophy broke in upon my cogitations.
"I've found 'em out," she said, with a flushed face. "That there Crawley is taking of us in, you see if he ain't. He's been telling a pack of lies with 'is 'ay cart and 'is tramp. He's got 'old of another cove, and is bringing of 'im 'ere. I 'eerd 'im telling the chap what to say to yer. I'm mum. 'Ere he is."
Sure enough there entered Crawley with another tramp, who told me a plausible story of having met Dr. Peterssen and his companions some thirty miles off. The fellow played his part fairly well, and when I refused to give him money, began to bully. I soon silenced him, however, by threatening to give him into custody on a charge of conspiracy, and he slunk away without another word, but with a secret sign to Crawley, which I detected. Crawley would have followed him, but I had got between him and the door.
"You miserable sneak," I said, "your game's at an end. So, you've been coached by your scoundrelly employer, Peterssen, to deceive us, and I was fool enough to be taken in by you. What have you to say about it?"
He looked at me slyly, but did not speak.
"You are frightened that you may criminate yourself, but you have done that already. I can prove that you have robbed us of money under false pretences; I can prove that you have entered into a conspiracy against us. Do you know the punishment for conspiracy? It is penal servitude, my friend. You wince at that. Honesty would have served your interests better, my fine fellow. Had you not behaved treacherously you would have been made for life. And now you will find that you have fallen between two stools. You think that Dr. Peterssen will reward you. You are mistaken. He has promised you a sum of money for misleading us. You will not get a penny of it. You fool! Better for you to have trusted straightforward gentlemen who had the means, and had the will, to richly reward you, than a scoundrel like your master, who has used you as a tool. You are to report the success of your treachery to him personally. Where? In London? Go to him there, go to the address he gave you, and try and find him. As he has rogued others, he has rogued you. Before you are many hours older, you will learn that honesty would have been your best policy."
The play of his features proved to me that all my shots were faithful and had struck home. I gave him a parting one.
"I will put the police on your track. You are a marked man from this day, and you and your master will have to answer in the criminal dock for the crimes of which you are guilty."
I had moved from the door, and he, seizing the opportunity, darted through it and was gone.
"Fine words!" I exclaimed. "Much good they will do!"