the wheels of chance-第11章

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〃D'yer　think　I'm　to　be　bribed？〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　whose　imagination　was　rapidly　expanding　the　situation。　〃By　Gosh！　I'd　follow　you　now〃

〃My　dear　sir；〃　said　the　other　man　in　brown；　〃I　beg　your　pardon。　I　misunderstood　you。　I　really　beg　your　pardon。　Let　us　walk　on。　In　your　profession〃

〃What　have　you　got　to　say　against　my　profession？〃

〃Well；　really；　you　know。　There　are　detectives　of　an　inferior　descriptionwatchers。　The　whole　class。　Private　InquiryI　did　not　realiseI　really　trust　you　will　overlook　what　was；　after　allyou　must　admita　natural　indiscretion。　Men　of　honour　are　not　so　common　in　the　worldin　any　profession。〃

It　was　lucky　for　Mr。　Hoopdriver　that　in　Midhurst　they　do　not　light　the　lamps　in　the　summer　time；　or　the　one　they　were　passing　had　betrayed　him。　As　it　was；　he　had　to　snatch　suddenly　at　his　moustache　and　tug　fiercely　at　it；　to　conceal　the　furious　tumult　of　exultation；　the　passion　of　laughter；　that　came　boiling　up。　Detective！　Even　in　the　shadow　Bechamel　saw　that　a　laugh　was　stifled；　but　he　put　it　down　to　the　fact　that　the　phrase　〃men　of　honour〃　amused　his　interlocutor。　〃He'll　come　round　yet；〃　said　Bechamel　to　himself。　〃He's　simply　holding　out　for　a　fiver。〃　He　coughed。

〃I　don't　see　that　it　hurts　you　to　tell　me　who　your　employer　is。〃

〃Don't　you？　I　do。〃

〃Prompt；〃　said　Bechamel；　appreciatively。　〃Now　here's　the　thing　I　want　to　put　to　youthe　kernel　of　the　whole　business。　You　need　not　answer　if　you　don't　want　to。　There's　no　harm　done　in　my　telling　you　what　I　want　to　know。　Are　you　employed　to　watch　meor　Miss　Milton？〃

〃I'm　not　the　leaky　sort；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　keeping　the　secret　he　did　not　know　with　immense　enjoyment。　Miss　Milton！　That　was　her　name。　Perhaps　he'd　tell　some　more。　〃It's　no　good　pumping。　Is　that　all　you're　after？〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。

Bechamel　respected　himself　for　his　diplomatic　gifts。　He　tried　to　catch　a　remark　by　throwing　out　a　confidence。　〃I　take　it　there　are　two　people　concerned　in　watching　this　affair。〃

〃Who's　the　other？〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　calmly；　but　controlling　with　enormous　internal　tension　his　selfappreciation。　〃Who's　the　other？〃　was　really　brilliant；　he　thought。

〃There's　my　wife　and　HER　stepmother。〃

〃And　you　want　to　know　which　it　is？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Bechamel。

〃Wellarst　'em！〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　his　exultation　getting　the　better　of　him；　and　with　a　pretty　consciousness　of　repartee。　〃Arst　'em　both。〃

Bechamel　turned　impatiently。　Then　he　made　a　last　effort。　〃I'd　give　a　five…pound　note　to　know　just　the　precise　state　of　affairs；〃　he　said。

〃I　told　you　to　stow　that；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　in　a　threatening　tone。　And　added　with　perfect　truth　and　a　magnificent　mystery；　〃You　don't　quite　understand　who　you're　dealing　with。　But　you　will！〃　He　spoke　with　such　conviction　that　he　half　believed　that　that　defective　office　of　his　in　LondonBaker　Street；　in　fact　really　existed。

With　that　the　interview　terminated。　Bechamel　went　back　to　the　Angel；　perturbed。　〃Hang　detectives！〃　It　wasn't　the　kind　of　thing　he　had　anticipated　at　all。　Hoopdriver；　with　round　eyes　and　a　wondering　smile；　walked　down　to　where　the　mill　waters　glittered　in　the　moonlight；　and　after　meditating　over　the　parapet　of　the　bridge　for　a　space；　with　occasional　murmurs　of；　〃Private　Inquiry〃　and　the　like；　returned；　with　mystery　even　in　his　paces；　towards　the　town。



XVIII

That　glee　which　finds　expression　in　raised　eyebrows　and　long；　low　whistling　noises　was　upon　Mr。　Hoopdriver。　For　a　space　he　forgot　the　tears　of　the　Young　Lady　in　Grey。　Here　was　a　new　game！and　a　real　one。　Mr。　Hoopdriver　as　a　Private　Inquiry　Agent；　a　Sherlock　Holmes　in　fact；　keeping　these　two　people　'under　observation。'　He　walked　slowly　back　from　the　bridge　until　he　was　opposite　the　Angel；　and　stood　for　ten　minutes；　perhaps；　contemplating　that　establishment　and　enjoying　all　the　strange　sensations　of　being　this　wonderful；　this　mysterious　and　terrible　thing。　Everything　fell　into　place　in　his　scheme。　He　had；　of　course；　by　a　kind　of　instinct；　assumed　the　disguise　of　a　cyclist；　picked　up　the　first　old　crock　he　came　across　as　a　means　of　pursuit。　'No　expense　was　to　be　spared。'

Then　he　tried　to　understand　what　it　was　in　particular　that　he　was　observing。　〃My　wife〃〃HER　stepmother！〃　Then　he　remembered　her　swimming　eyes。　Abruptly　came　a　wave　of　anger　that　surprised　him；　washed　away　the　detective　superstructure；　and　left　him　plain　Mr。　Hoopdriver。　This　man　in　brown；　with　his　confident　manner；　and　his　proffered　half　sovereign　（damn　him！）　was　up　to　no　good；　else　why　should　he　object　to　being　watched？　He　was　married！　She　was　not　his　sister。　He　began　to　understand。　A　horrible　suspicion　of　the　state　of　affairs　came　into　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　head。　Surely　it　had　not　come　to　THAT。　He　was　a　detective！he　would　find　out。　How　was　it　to　be　done？　He　began　to　submit　sketches　on　approval　to　himself。　It　required　an　effort　before　he　could　walk　into　the　Angel　bar。　〃A　lemonade　and　bitter；　please；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。

He　cleared　his　throat。　〃Are　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Bowlong　stopping　here？〃

〃What；　a　gentleman　and　a　young　ladyon　bicycles？〃

〃Fairly　younga　married　couple。〃

〃No；〃　said　the　barmaid；　a　talkative　person　of　ample　dimensions。　〃There's　no　married　couples　stopping　here。　But　there's　a　Mr。　and　Miss　BEAUMONT。〃　She　spelt　it　for　precision。　〃Sure　you've　got　the　name　right；　young　man？〃

〃Quite；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。

〃Beaumont　there　is；　but　no　one　of　the　name　of　What　was　the　name　you　gave？〃

〃Bowlong；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。

〃No；　there　ain't　no　Bowlong；〃　said　the　barmaid；　taking　up　a　glasscloth　and　a　drying　tumbler　and　beginning　to　polish　the　latter。　〃First　off；　I　thought　you　might　be　asking　for　Beaumont　the　names　being　similar。　Were　you　expecting　them　on　bicycles？〃

〃Yesthey　said　they　MIGHT　be　in　Midhurst　tonight。〃

〃P'raps　they'll　come　presently。　Beaumont's　here；　but　no　Bowlong。　Sure　that　Beaumont　ain't　the　name？〃

〃Certain；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。

〃It's　curious　the　names　being　so　alike。　I　thought　p'raps〃

And　so　they　conversed　at　some　length；　Mr。　Hoopdriver　delighted　to　find　his　horrible　suspicion　disposed　of。　The　barmaid　having　listened　awhile　at　the　staircase　volunteered　some　particulars　of　the　young　couple　upstairs。　Her　modesty　was　much　impressed　by　the　young　lady's　costume；　so　she　intimated；　and　Mr。　Hoopdriver　whispered　the　badinage　natural　to　the　occasion；　at　which　she　was　coquettishly　shocked。　〃There'll　be　no　knowing　which　is　which；　in　a　year　or　two；〃　said　the　barmaid。　〃And　her　manner　too！　She　got　off　her　machine　and　give　it　'im　to　stick　up　against　the　kerb；　and　in　she　marched。　'I　and　my　brother；'　says　she；　'want　to　stop　here　to…night。　My　brother　doesn't　mind　what　kind　of　room　'e　'as；　but　I　want　a　room　with　a　good　view；　if　there's　one　to　be　got；'　says　she。　He　comes　hurrying　in　after　and　looks　at　her。　'I've　settled　the　rooms；'　she　says；　and　'e　says　'damn！'　just　like　that。　I　can　fancy　my　brother　letting　me　boss　the　show　like　that。〃

〃I　dessay　you　do；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　〃if　the　truth　was　known。〃

The　barmaid　looked　down；　smiled　and　shook　her　head；　put　down　the　tumbler；　polished；　and　took　up　another　that　had　been　draining；　and　shook　the　drops　of　water　into　her　little　zinc　sink。

〃She'll　be　a　nice　little　lot　to　marry；〃　said　the　barmaid。　〃She'll　be　wearing　thewell；　b…dashes；　as　the　sayin'　is。　I　can't　think　what　girls　is　comin'　to。〃

This　depreciation　of　the　Young　Lady　in　Grey　was　hardly　to　Hoopdriver's　taste。

〃Fashion；〃　said　he；　taking　up　his　change。　〃Fashion　is　all　the　go　with　you　ladiesand　always　was。　You'll　be　wearing　'em　yourself　before　a　couple　of　years　is　out。〃

〃Nice　they'd　look　on　my　figger；〃　said　the　barmaid；　with　a　titter。　〃NoI　ain't　one　of　your　fashionable　sort。　Gracious　no！　I　shouldn't　feel　as　if　I'd　anything　on　me；　not　more　than　if　I'd　forgot　Well；　there！　I'm　talking。〃　She　put　down　the　glass　abruptly。　〃I　dessay　I'm　old　fashioned；〃　she　said；　and　walked　humming　down　the　bar。

〃Not　you；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver。　He　waited　until　he　caught　her　eye；　then　with　his　native　courtesy　smiled；　raised　his　cap；　and　wished　her　good　evening。



XIX

Then　Mr。　Hoopdriver　returned　to　the　little　room　with　the　lead…framed　windows　where　he　had　dined；　and　where　the　bed　was　now　comfortably　made；　sat　down　on　the　box　under　the　window；　stared　at　the　moon　rising　on　the　shining　vicarage　roof；　and　tried　to　collect　his　thoughts。　How　they　whirled　at　first！　It　was　past　ten；　and　most　of　Midhurst　was　tucked　away　in　bed；　some　one　up　the　street　was　learning　the　violin；　at　rare　intervals　a　belated　inhabitant　hurried　home　and　woke　the　echoes；　and　a　corncrake　kept　up　a　busy　churning　in　the　vicarage　garden。　The　sky　was　deep　blue；　with　a　still　luminous　afterglow　along　the　hlack　edge　of　the　hill；　and　the　white　moon　overhead；　save　for　a　couple　of　yellow　stars；　had　the　sky　to　herself。

At　first　his　thoughts　were　kinetic；　of　deeds　and　not　relationships。　There　was　this　malefactor；　and　his　victim；　and　it　had　fallen　on　Mr。　Hoopdriver　to　take　a　hand　in　the　game。　HE　was　married。　Did　she　know　he　was　married？　Never　for　a　moment　did　a　thought　of　evil　concerning　her　cross　Hoopdriver's　mind。　Simple…　minded　people　see　questions　of　morals　so　much　better　than　superior　personswho　have　read　and　thought　themselves　complex　to　impotence。　He　had　heard　her　voice；　seen　the　frank　light　in　her　eyes；　and　she　had　been　weepingthat　sufficed。　The　rights　of　the　case　he　hadn't　properly　grasped。　But　he　would。　And　that　smirking…　…well；　swine　was　the　mildest　for　him。　He　recalled　the　exceedingly　unpleasant　incident　of　the　railway　bridge。　〃Thin　we　won't　detain　yer；　thenks；〃　said　Mr。　Hoopdriver；　aloud；　in　a　strange；　unnatural；　contemptible　voice；　supposed　to　represent　that　of　Bechamel。　〃Oh；　the　BEGGAR！　I'll　be　level　with　him　yet。　He's　afraid　of　us　detectivesthat　I'll　SWEAR。〃　（If　Mrs。　Wardor　should　chance　to　be　on　the　other　side　of　the　door　within　earshot；　well　and　good。）

For　a　space　he　meditated　chastisements　and　revenges；　physical　impossibilities　for　the　most　part；Bechamel　staggering　headlong　from　the　impact　of　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　large；　but；　to　tell　the　truth；　ill　supported　fist；　Bechamel's　five　feet　nine　of　height　lifted　from　the　ground　and　quivering　under　a　vigorously　applied　horsewhip。　So　pleasant　was　such　dreaming；　that　Mr。　Hoopdriver's　peaked　face　under　the　moonlight　was　transfigured。　One　might　have　paired　him　with　that　well…known　and　universally　admired　triumph；　'The　Soul's　Awakening；'　so　sweet　was　his　ecstasy。　And　presently　with　his　thirst　for　revenge　glutted　by　six　or　seven　violent　assaults；　a　duel　and　two　vigorous　murders；　his　mind　came　round　to　the　Young　Lady　in　Grey　again。

She　was　a　plucky　one　too。　He　went　over　the　incident　the　barmaid　at　the　Angel　had　described　to　him。　His　thoughts　ceased　to　be　a　torrent；　smoothed　down　to　a　mirror　in　which　she　was　reflected　with　infinite　clearness　and　detail。　He'd　never　met　anything　like　her　before。　Fancy　that　bolster　of　a　barmaid　being　dressed　in　that　way！　He　whuffed　a　contemptuous　laugh。　He　compared　her　colour；　her　vigour；　her　voice；　with　the　Young　Ladies　in　Business　with　whom　his　lot　had　been　cast。　Even　in　tears　she　was　beautiful；　more　beautiful　indeed　to　him；　for　it　made　her　seem　softer　and　weaker；　more　accessible。　And　such　weeping　as　he　had　seen　before　had　been　so　much　a　matter　of　damp　white　faces；　red　noses；　and　hair　coming　out　of　curl。　Your　draper's　assistant　becomes