Walter looked at the senior partner for instructions. ‘Go!’ cried Mr Armytage with promptness—‘go, without a moment’s delay!’
The young man started off as quickly as his legs would carry him for the railway terminus near Fenchurch Street. What an inexpressible relief to escape from his ghostly fantasy regarding the old strong-room, and to feel that he was at last beginning to take an active and important part in the search for Silas Monk!
The train presently arrived at Limehouse. Walter leaped out and made his way with all speed to the police station. He inquired for the detective of the first constable he saw, standing, as though on guard, at the open doorway.
‘What name?’
‘Tiltcroft.’
The constable gave a short comprehensive nod; then he looked into the office, and jerked his head significantly at another constable who was seated at a desk. This man quickly disappeared into an inner room.
‘Walk in,’ said the custodian at the doorway, ‘and wait.’
Walter walked in, and waited for what seemed an interminable time. But Fenwick made his appearance at last, walking briskly up to the young clerk and touching him on the shoulder with the knob of his stick. ‘It’s a matter of identification,’ said he mysteriously; ‘come along.’ He settled his hat on with the brim touching his black eyebrows, and led the way into the street. Walter followed. They walked along through well-lighted thoroughfares, up narrow passages and down dark lanes, until they came suddenly upon a timber-yard with the river flowing beyond. At this point the detective stopped and gave a low whistle. This signal was immediately followed by the sound of oars; and the dark outline of a boat gliding forward, grew dimly visible out of the obscurity, below the spot where Fenwick and the young clerk stood. Some one in the boat directed the rays of a lantern mainly upon their feet, revealing steep wooden steps.
‘Follow me!’ cried the detective.
As they went down step by step to the water’s edge, the rays of the lantern descended, dropping always a few inches in advance to guide them, until they were safely shipped, when the lantern was suddenly suppressed, and the boat was jerked cautiously out into the river by a figure near the bow, handling shadowy oars.