One day Annie, whom the servants and neighbours supposed to be Mr. Edgar Bootle, son of the Rev. Alexander Bootle, found among the letters on the breakfast table one bearing the Bombay postmark. She concluded at once that it was from Captain Gerard, as he had promised to write on his arrival at Bombay.
“Look here, father,” she said eagerly, as the “Rev. Mr. Bootle” entered the breakfast room, “here is Captain Gerard’s letter. Open it at once and see what he says.”
The request was promptly obeyed, and what was in the letter is here transcribed:—
“SS. ‘Merry Maid,’ Bombay.
“Dear Sir,—As per promise, I am losing no time in affording you such information as is in my power. I find that the look-out man who was on duty on the night, and at the time of Mr. Hilton Riddell’s disappearance, is also convinced that he heard a suspicious splash, but it is doubtful if either he or the carpenter would care to appear as witnesses in the event of a new trial, since they are afraid of being detained, without recompense sufficient, long enough to cause them to lose their ship. Perhaps, however, you may be able to make them an offer good enough to overcome hesitation in this direction. But I have, nevertheless, some very valuable information for you. Yesterday, having only been in port an hour or two, and having finished all business for the day, I was having a turn on the Apollo Bunda, when whom should I meet face to face but our late passenger. He recognised me at once as the former mate of the ‘Merry Maid,’ but would have passed by without apparent recognition if I had not buttonholed him, and made this course impossible. He acknowledged my salutation very stiffly, and would still have passed on had I not remarked, ‘Look here, old man, it’s lucky for you we have met; otherwise you would most certainly be in gaol to-morrow.’
“You should have seen his face. It went as white as a scared man’s face ever can, and for a moment he looked as if he was going into a fit. Then he pulled himself together, and tried to make light of his emotion.
“‘What a queer way you have of talking, Mr. Gerard,’ he said, and I was viciously glad to see what a feeble show he made of the self-possession he tried to muster. ‘How on earth could I be entitled to lodgings in gaol?’
“‘Well, thereby hangs a tale,’ I said. ‘Suppose you come down with me to a quiet house I know of, where we can talk unobserved. You have some deadly enemies in Bombay at this minute, and the sooner you take yourself away from a public place like this the better.’
“Fifteen minutes later we were sitting, each armed with a whisky and soda, in the public room of a house which I, in common with other sea-faring officers, had often frequented during my numerous voyages to Bombay. Stavanger was desperately nervous, and was careful to sit with his back to the general company, while I, having a good view of all who came in, was able to assure him that, so far, none of his enemies were present. And then I exercised a stroke of diplomacy, for which I am sure you will commend me.
“I have induced him to set off for England, where you will have no difficulty of capturing him. I set a trap for him, and he has walked into it beautifully. Briefly, this is what I did. I told him that at Port Said a middle-aged gentleman and his daughter, accompanied by an officer of the law, came on board the ‘Merry Maid’ with a warrant for the arrest of one Hugh Stavanger, alias Paul Torrens, on a charge of being the principal person implicated in a diamond robbery that had taken place some time ago at Hatton Garden. ‘The young lady,’ I continued, ‘was engaged to be married to a man who has been convicted of the crime, and she has vowed to unearth you and haul you up, if she has to follow you all over the world. She has tracked you from one place to another, and is quite confident of catching you some time. I suggested that you were probably in England again. But neither she nor her father thought this possible.’ ‘Depend upon it,’ Miss Cory said, ‘the scoundrel will never dare come to England again, and it would be folly to look for him there. If he had felt safe there, he would not have come away, that is true.’ I told Stavanger much more than this, all tending to make him believe that, after all, England was the only safe place for him. I enlarged on the wealth at your disposal, and said that you had several detectives trying to find him somewhere abroad. Also that you had found out somehow that he had sailed for Bombay, that you had immediately decided to follow him in one of the mail boats, and that you must have reached Bombay a few days before the ‘Merry Maid’ arrived. I also professed to have no sympathy with you, and remarked that if I could lay my hands on a few diamonds I would only be too glad of the chance. The fellow did not condescend to chum with me at all when I was only a mate. Now he seems to repent his error of judgment; is convinced that I am quite in harmony and sympathy with him; and is ready to swallow any advice that I may offer. Here is the result of my advice and manœuvring. He went back to his hotel with his hat over his eyes, and his light coat huddled about his neck as much as possible, I being kind enough to accompany him. Then he put a few things into his pockets, packed a portmanteau, paid his hotel bill, and went with me to the skipper of a boat leaving for England that tide. He is now a passenger in that boat, which is called the ‘Hornby Cross,’ and is due in London a month from date. Before parting from him, I, partially by wheedling, partially by insistence, got a diamond ring out of him. This ring I will bring home with me, and, should it prove to be a part of the stolen property, you will have proof enough to saddle the robbery on Stavanger, even if he were not walking right into your clutches. This letter will reach you a week before the ‘Hornby Cross’ is due, and will give you time to make the necessary arrangements for capture. The ‘Hornby Cross’ is owned by Messrs. Ward, Willow, and Co., Fenchurch Street, and Stavanger’s present alias is John Morton. A word or two more. The scoundrel had half a notion for a few minutes of remaining here, on the chance of being able to ‘stop your gallop,’ as he called it. In other words, if he can ever get half a chance he will murder you, as he considers that if the world were rid of Miss Cory and her father he would be perfectly safe. I persuaded him that it would be foolish for him to linger here, and vowed that I could find a safe method of disposing of you. I am actually to have a hundred pounds as soon as I can prove Stavanger’s enemies to be no longer in the land of the living. Nice for you, isn’t it? But there is no fear of my ever earning that hundred pounds, nor of him ever employing anyone else to earn it, since he is sure to be in your power soon.”