He was perfectly right in making this remark, for when he jumped out and ran up to the first cab he found it--empty. Fanks swore, whereat Joe Berners grinned.
"And it do serve y' right," said Joe, who was a surly person; "I never did 'old as young gents should persecute innocents. G' on wi' y'."
Fanks recovered his temper on hearing this speech. It was most humiliating to have followed an empty cab for so many miles; but it was rather amusing to be accused of being a profligate when he was ardently bent on doing his duty. The detective laughed, although the joke was against himself.
"The question of persecution will bear argument, my friend," he said in a laughing tone. "In the meantime, perhaps you will tell me what you did with the young lady you picked up here?"
"Why!" said Mr. Berners, "she told me as you was after her for kisses an' such like; so she gives me a sov. to mislead you. She got out of my keb at the end of this street, she did; and told me to drive on an' on for an hour or so, while she got away. I done that," added Joe, with a grin, "an' you've bin follerin' a h'empty keb ever since I went up to Berkeley Square."
"You have acted according to your lights, my friend," said Fanks, when he realised how he had been tricked, "and I do not blame you. All the same I am not a profligate, but a detective."
"Lor!" said Joe, "has she done anything, sir?"
"What she has done is nothing to you. Can you tell me in which direction she went?"
"No, I can't, sir; and I don't bel've you, I don't," and so saying Joe Berners drove off in high dudgeon.
Fanks made no attempt to stop him; for he saw that the woman had defeated him, and the only thing left for him to do was to retire with the best possible grace. To this end he paid his cab, shrugged his shoulders, and went upstairs again. Since the woman had succeeded in escaping him, the solution of the problem lay entirely with Robert. Then a miracle. On the way up to the chambers the memory of that face flashed across the mind of Fanks.