Part 54 (1/2)
”No,” said Miss Sally; ”in this part of the business I fear you cannot help. Read _that_, please.”
She spread open the telegraph form which she had been holding all this while, and laid it on the desk before him.
”Breward, Grand Central Hotel, Bursfield.”
”'Regret to say children missing. Supposed left Inistow Cove Tossell's boat Sat.u.r.day night. Boat found ash.o.r.e Clatworthy Beach. Search parties along coast. Will report any news.--Chichester.'”
”When did you get this, ma'am, making so bold?”
”At nine this morning. If you look, you will see the telegram was handed in at 8.37, and received here at 8.50--is it not? The sender is a Mr. Chichester, a clergyman and a friend of mine.”
”Aye,” said Mr. Hucks, after slowly examining the telegram and the office stamp. He raised his formidable grey eyes and fixed them full on Miss Sally.
”Oh,” she said after awhile, but without blanching, ”I see what's in your mind.”
”No you don't,” he answered abruptly. ”It _did_ cross my mind, but it's not there any longer. You're straight. And you're quality--though maybe your kind don't answer to the pictcher-books. . . . Well, about this wire now. . . . What's your opinion?”
”Why, that the children are lost.”
”Meanin' by that drowned--or just missing?”
”From that message what must one conclude?”
”Well,” said Mr. Hucks slowly, after another perusal of the telegram, ”I don't conclude much from it; but from my knowledge of the gal-child, I jolly well conclude that they're no more drowned than you or me.
They've just made another bolt for it, and the s.h.i.+pwrecked boat's no more than a blind.”
”They were comfortable enough at Inistow Farm. Why should they want to bolt?” Miss Sally urged.
”Because, ma'am, that gal has a business conscience developed to a degree I never struck yet in man or woman. You've dealt open with me, and I'll deal open with you. I _did_ help that pair to give Gla.s.son the slip; not from any kindheartedness, I'd have you to know, if you're thinkin' to accuse me of it; but as a kind of by-speculation. For I saw that dirty thief Gla.s.son was mad to get the boy back, and it seemed to me there was likely some money in it. I gave 'em their chance, yes; because it happened so, and I couldn't see no other way. Now, observe me--that gal knew all the time I wasn't doing it for my health, as you might say; she knew well enough I was just as hard as Gla.s.son, though maybe in a different way. She knew this, and as things turned out, she might have run off with the boy and snapped her fingers at me. But does she? Nothing o' the sort. She freezes to her bargain, same as if she'd all a lawyer's knowledge and none of his conscience. First, she clears me back every penny I've invested in Mortimer, and with interest; and I'm the first man that ever invested on that scamp and saw his money again. When that's paid she strikes out on a trail of her own--but not to lose herself and the boy: not she. At every halt she reports herself and him; and by her last I was to write to her at a place called Holmness, which I posted a letter there yesterday.”
”Holmness!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss Sally. ”Holmness, did you say?”
”That's so. Might it be anywhere in your parts?”
”Of course it is. But Holmness, my good sir, is an island.”
”She mentioned that, now I come to think of it. Island or not, she'll get there, if she bursts; and I won't believe other till I hear from the Dead Letter Office.”
”You addressed a letter to Holmness? . . . But it's too absurd; the place is a mere barren rock, three good miles from the mainland.
Nothing there but rabbits, and in summer a few sheep.”
”Mayhap she didn't know it when she gave the address. But,” persisted Mr. Hucks doggedly, ”she's there if she's alive. You go back and try.”
[He gave Tilda, as the reader knows, more credit than she deserved; but from this may be deduced a sound moral--that the value of probity, as an a.s.set in dealing, is quite incalculable.]
Miss Sally considered for a full minute--for two minutes, Mr. Hucks watching her face from under his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows.
”It is barely possible,” she owned at length. ”But supposing they have reached Holmness, it can only be to starve. Good Lord! they may be starving to death there at this moment!”
Mr. Hucks kept his composure.
”It's plain to me you haven't measured that gal,” he said slowly.