The Road to Paris: A Story of Adventure

by Robert Neilson Stephens

Dick was completely puzzled. What danger could he be in, through remaining at his present abode? Who could be his unknown warner? Not the Vauxhall girl, for she had written her name for him on a card, and this was not her handwriting. The quality and cleanliness of the paper indicated a person living in good case,—perhaps a maid-servant in some fine house. Then he recalled the face of the man who had brought the letter, and whom, at the moment, he had thought he had seen somewhere before. Recollecting singly each incident of his life in London, he at last located the man's face. It was that of a footman at the Mallbys' house in Grosvenor Square. But what maid-servant in that house could have noticed Dick? Indeed, what person in that house had done so but Miss Mallby herself? So the heiress, to avoid discovery in the matter, might have caused her maid to send the warning. Now what possible danger to Dick could Miss Mallby be aware of, save one that Lord Alderby might have threatened or planned? But would Lord Alderby have informed her of such plans? Perhaps so, in a moment of anger, as men will anticipate the pleasure of revenge, by announcing that revenge in advance; perhaps not. If not, one or two of his lordship's servants would probably have been in his confidence, and thus the cat might have been let out of the bag to one of Miss Mallby's maids. So Dick concluded that, if he was in any danger, it must be from Lord Alderby, his only powerful enemy. But he resolved to disdain the warning, nevertheless, and he went forth to look in a leisurely way for suitable lodgings, as he had intended to do, though he would not move into them for two or three days.

But he wasted the day in riding about London, viewing things he had not seen before. In the evening the whim seized him to go to Ranelagh. It was not until late at night, when he turned from Fleet Street, through the market, that he thought of the morning's warning. He felt a momentary tremor, so dark and deserted was the narrow street leading to Breakneck Stairs. But he braced himself within, and strode along with apparent blitheness; yet he could not help thinking that Breakneck Stairs would be an excellent place for an attack by his enemies. Peering forward in the darkness, he turned from the border of Fleet Ditch, and mounted the first steps. At the side of the stairs, there ascended a row of houses, all now in deep shadow.

He had reached the landing between the two flights, without incident, when suddenly from the shadow at the side a dark lantern was flashed upon his face, and out rushed three or four burly figures. "Heave the spalpeen down the shtairs!" cried a voice from the shadow,—a voice that Dick instantly recognized as Captain Delahenty's, and from which he knew the attack was indeed at Lord Alderby's instigation.

The men were armed with bludgeons, and three rushed upon Dick at once. But he had no mind to make his bed in Fleet Ditch; hence he met the middle rascal with a violent kick in the belly, and, getting instantly between the other two, shot out both arms simultaneously, clutching at their throats. But now the captain and one other man rushed out from the shadow, and Dick thought all was up.

Suddenly there came a cry from the top of the stairs, "Hold off, that man belongs to us!" There followed a flashing of other lanterns, and a scuffle of footsteps down from the top. In another moment, Dick's first assailants were resisting this new force, who had fallen upon them with bludgeons. A sharp, quick fight, in which Dick himself took no part whatever, left the newcomers in possession of the landing and of him, while Captain Delahenty and his gang were carrying their broken heads rapidly down the stairs and off towards Fleet Market.

"I thank you for the rescue," said Dick to the stalwart leader of the victorious party, as that leader held up a lantern before Dick's face.

"You may call it a rescue, if you like," growled the leader, "but some would rather die in a street brawl than swing at Tyburn. Edward Lawson, otherwise known as Captain Ted," and the man, who had pronounced these names in an official manner, waited as if for Dick to answer to them.

"If you mean that you take me for a person of that name," said Dick, "I have to tell you that you are disappointed."

"Oho!" was the answer. "That game ain't worthy of you, captain! But if you wish to play it out, you can play it out in Bow Street, and at the Old Bailey after that. I arrest you, Edward Lawson, commonly called Captain Ted, on a charge of highway robbery. Here's the warrant, which God knows I've carried around long enough! You know the usual formality, captain."

And at this the bewildered Dick unresistingly saw himself seized by his arms, while another of the constables—for constables these were—adorned him with a pair of handcuffs. He was then marched back to Fleet Street—for it appeared he was no common prisoner, for the nearest roundhouse—and thence, by way of the Strand and other familiar thoroughfares, to a building in Bow Street, celebrated for the fact that Fielding wrote "Tom Jones" therein.