The Yellow Face

by Fred M. White

Jack advanced a few paces nearer the speaker, and surveyed him closely in the blinding light of the lantern. There was no doubt whatever that this was one and the same Nostalgo. There was a certain mark in the shape of a crescent scar on his chin, the same scantiness of eyebrow, and the same peculiar droop of the lids.

"I am quite satisfied that you are the same man," Jack said.

"That's all right," the stranger cried, eagerly. "Of course, I know quite well that you are deeply interested in this Nostalgo mystery, and good fortune has placed you in the position to find out all about it. Get rid of those fellows, and call me a hansom. As a guarantee of good faith, here is my card. The address leaves a great deal to be desired, but I assure you my quarters are a great deal more comfortable than the locality would convey. If you have not yet dined, perhaps you would not mind partaking of my bread and salt."

Jack did not hesitate a moment longer. It was, perhaps, playing it rather low down on the police, but it seemed almost a criminal folly to waste so golden an opportunity as this. If the man had been given in custody for the murderous assault upon Spencer Anstruther, there would be long and tedious investigations, which would not only delay the solution of the trouble, but perhaps scare away others who were more or less party to the mystery. After all said and done, Anstruther was not a penny the worse for his adventure, and no harm could be done in defeating the so-called ends of justice.

"You stay where you are," Jack said, "and I will see what I can do for you. The police are On three sides of the square, leaving this side open to me. It is only a matter of a little patience, and the thing is accomplished."

Jack emerged cautiously into the road and looked about him. So far as he could see the street was deserted, though he could hear the constables making signs to one another on the other three sides of the square. Whilst he was still debating in his mind what to do, an empty hansom crawled towards him. Jack ran back and signed to the driver not to stop.

"You can earn a sovereign if you like," he said. "Don't ask any questions, but do exactly what I tell you. Turn back, go just to the corner of the square, and then return slowly; when you are opposite the gates, pull up as if there was something the matter with your horse. Then a man will come out and jump into your cab. You are to drive him to the address which I am going to give you without asking any questions. Here is your sovereign, and now listen carefully to the address. That's all."

Jack returned hurriedly to the gardens, at the same time whistling loudly as if he had need of assistance. It was not long before the three constables came swarming over the railings, guided to the right spot by the flash of Jack's lantern.

"Now's your time," he whispered hurriedly. "There is a hansom waiting for you by the gate, and the driver knows exactly what to do and where to take you. He is already paid his fare."

The man Nostalgo smiled and vanished. It was an easy matter to satisfy the police that their quarry had eluded Masefield, and that he was still hiding somewhere in the gardens. Jack left them to their search presently under the plea that he had no further time to waste. He walked as far as Albany Street, and there took a cab to Mare Street, Hackney.