Mrs. Barton’s figure was in the strongest possible contrast to that of her husband. She was a large woman and enormously stout. Mrs. Barton was a Jewess, the widow of a Hebrew clothier in Houndsditch, who had left her a small fortune. She had been very handsome when young, but not the slightest trace of her good looks remained in her fat, coarse face. She was nearly as old as her husband, but there was 224not a white hair in the black bands on her low square forehead. What had induced Mrs. Barton to marry her present husband was a riddle which none of her friends could solve. It seemed, however, that he had been employed in some enquiry in which her late husband was interested, and she was a woman who could keenly appreciate the shrewdness and energy of the rather uncouth Scotchman. At any rate, when the days of mourning had expired, the widow signified her willingness to lay aside her weeds in his favour. As Robert Barton had just left the force, and was looking out for a fresh opening, he gladly accepted her offer, although even at that time, at five-and-thirty, the widow was, to say the least, large, and her good looks had completely flown. Indeed, he hesitated not a moment. He had saved up some money, and with that and the widow’s fortune and connection, he thought he saw his way very clearly before him. It is true that her friends were extremely angry with her for marrying a Christian; she became as it were excommunicate, and cut off from all participation in the service of the synagogue. This feeling, however, 225in no way interfered with their willingness to work with her in business, and as she had been a popular woman among her class during the lifetime of her first husband, her connections, with the exception of a few of the strictest set, soon forgave her her marriage out of the pale. A few weeks after his marriage Mr. Barton opened an office in the City, which he entitled “Barton’s Private Research and Detection Office.” In a very short time he began to do a good business, and once or twice made especially happy hits—succeeding in tracing stolen property, and in ferreting out an absconding clerk—when the regular detective force had given up the task in despair. After this his success was a certainty, and it was soon apparent that he had means of obtaining information altogether beyond the ordinary police sources of intelligence. Here it was that Mrs. Barton’s connection came into play. The whole of the agents he employed belonged to her persuasion, and so numerous and active were they, that scarce an attempt was made to pass a stolen note without Barton being informed of it. Even on the Continent, at Hamburg and other places where Jews congregate, 226he had numerous correspondents; and as most of the stolen property was likely, sooner or later, to find its way there, the information with which he was furnished enabled him frequently to make the most surprising captures in England. It must not be supposed that these men betrayed themselves or each other, or that they restored stolen property which they had purchased. They simply let him know that they had become possessors of it, and gave him such clues as would enable him to trace the thief. Besides this they arranged through him the terms for restoration of bills, and various other securities, and even for the recovery of bank-notes. There were, indeed, occasional murmurs heard against him. It seemed, men said, that although Barton was certain to bring the guilt home to the smaller class of delinquents, pilfering shop-boys, forgers for small amounts, or defaulting collectors, yet in cases of great importance, where perhaps the absconding clerk had made off with very large amounts, his zeal in following upon the scent, though apparently very great, was rewarded with singular ill-success.
Robert Barton’s business was not confined to 227the discovery of frauds; many of his researches were of a far more complex and delicate nature. Wives who sought missing husbands; broken-hearted fathers, missing daughters; claimants to property, who set him to work to find the lost link in their chain of evidence; husbands and wives who sought proofs of each other’s infidelity:—all came to Mr. Barton, and on the whole they were well satisfied with him. In these researches he seldom took any active part, contenting himself with sitting in the office, holding the threads of all the nets which his active subordinates were spreading round their victims. Occasionally, however, when the fit took him, or the affair was too important to be trusted to any hands but his own, he would put on a disguise, lay aside his stiff carriage, and transforming himself so completely that no one would recognise him, sally out upon his search.
“What have you got to-day, Barton—anything important?”
Robert Barton took out his pocket-book and examined the entries.
“Marriage certificate between John Rogers and Mary Hare, somewhere about 1792, probably in 228London. That’s a mere matter of sending circulars to all the parish clerks, offering a reward.—Register of baptism of William Pollard, 1822. Liverpool or Manchester.—Trace and recover notes and bills in Borough Bank robbery. That, of course, I cannot move in at present. It is a large sum, and I have no doubt, from the lot I believe are in it, that the notes will go over to Hamburg. I must write to Levy there to get hold of them and hold them for a time, and then I must find out how much they will give for them.—John Bell, cashier, Latham and Prodgers’, defaulter; determined to punish; offer ￡400. I shall soon lay him by the legs.—Evidence against Mr. Halfall, Bristol. That is rather a delicate matter. I must send Isaacs down, he is just the man for that; the fellow is so good-looking, he gets round the servant girls in no time. It is just nine, I must be off.”
“Mind, Barton, don’t forget sharp six is the dinner-hour; you were ten minutes late yesterday, and the joint was overdone.”
In a few minutes Mr. Barton was on the roof of his ‘bus on his way to the city. As he went 229along he sat grave and immoveable, scrutinizing the passers-by, as if he considered they all possessed secrets he might be some day called upon to investigate.
Mr. Barton’s office was in one of the narrow streets leading off Cheapside, and consisted of two rooms on the first floor, the one a general waiting-room, the other his private office. In the former two lads were at work at a desk, copying from the “Gazette” the bankrupt and insolvent list.
“Has any one been here?”
“One gentleman, sir; he left his card.”
Mr. Barton looked at it. “Did he say he would call again?”
“He left word would you go round directly you came in.”
The card was that of the manager of a large banking firm.
“Ask any one who calls to wait, I shall not be gone many minutes,” and Mr. Barton took his way to the Bank.
On his sending in his name, he was at once shown into the manager’s room. The manager, an elderly man with spectacles, was evidently at 230the present time considerably ruffled and put out.
“Take a seat, Mr. Barton. A very unpleasant business has taken place, very much so, indeed. One of our clerks has made away with a great deal of money; we do not yet know the particulars; we only found it out yesterday afternoon. We sent for one of the books which he kept, as we wished to compare it with another; on doing so we discovered some extraordinary discrepancies; we sent down to him, but he was gone—had left immediately the book was taken up to us. We sent up to his house, but of course he had been in and gone out again. We put the police on his scent last night, but as I was coming up to town this morning, I remembered that you knew his face, as he was several times at your office about that case of forgery you followed up for us; his name was Symes—David Symes.”
“I remember, sir, a fair young man.”
“Just so; we shall offer two hundred pounds reward for his capture.”
“Very well, sir,” Mr. Barton said, “I will lose no time. I will telegraph down to my 231agents in Liverpool and Southampton. The police are sure to watch Dover and Folkestone, and I will myself see about the London shipping. If he is still in the country, depend upon it we shall catch him, sir.”
“Reuben,” Mr. Barton said to one of the lads in his office, upon his return, “go at once and see Jonah Moss and Levi, and tell them to go to all the slop shops in Houndsditch and eastward, and find out if a young man of about thirty, fair, with bluish eyes, and very little whisker, looking like a gentleman, bought any sea clothes down there last night. If so, bring me a description.”
“You need not trouble yourself, Mr. Barton,” a man said, coming into the office. “Perhaps I can give you the information you want.”
Mr. Barton looked at him steadily, then opened the door leading into the inner office, motioned to the man to enter, followed him in, and closed the door carefully after him. He then took another steady observation of his visitor. He was dressed as a sailor, with a few little bits of finery, a chain and rings, such as foreign sailors affect. He was swarthy and dark, 232with black hair falling in little curls. He was the beau ideal of a sailor from the shores of the Mediterranean.
“A very good get-up, Mr. Symes,” Mr. Barton said quietly, “really very creditable; pass muster very well in the street, but would hardly deceive anyone on the watch for you. Don’t you think it is just the least bit rash for you to come here?”
“Rash! not a bit of it,” the man laughed; “the very best thing I could do.”
“I suppose you know I have just come from the Bank.”
“Quite so, Mr. Barton, I was watching for you. I felt sure they would put you after me, so I waited till you had been there and got instructions, and then I thought I would come in and hear all about it.”
“You are a cool hand, certainly,” Mr. Barton said, in a tone of admiration.
“Well, you see I have been for some time looking things in the face and making my calculations. I knew, of course, that it must come out, sooner or later, and I think I have made myself pretty well master of everything which 233could bear upon my chances. As I felt sure they would put you on me I inquired all about your way of doing business.”
“And what was the result of your investigation?” Mr. Barton asked, rather grimly.
“Why, you see,” the man said, carelessly, “here I am. And now to business. How much have they offered you?—a hundred pounds?”
“Two hundred,” Mr. Barton said.
“I am sure I feel it a compliment. Two hundred pounds! Well, now look here. I have taken a big sum altogether, but it has been over a long time, and has gone pretty nearly as fast as I got it. My luck on the turf has been really a caution. So I don’t get off with much in the end, only a few hundred pounds, but I tell you what, I will give you five hundred pounds to let me go.”
Mr. Barton hesitated, and sat thoughtfully for nearly a minute, and then he said, “The three hundred you offer me more than they do is not sufficient to cover the risk.”
“Nonsense, man, there is no risk in the matter, as you know as well as I do.”
234“But suppose, Mr. Symes, that the police catch you, how then?”
“Ah! but the police must not catch me. It’s precisely for that that you are going to take the extra three hundred. It will be your part of the business to throw them off the scent, you will find that an easy job enough.”
“How am I to be paid? that is, supposing I agree to this?”
“I will tell you. I have five hundred and fifty pounds standing as a deposit in the Joint Stock Bank, in the name of Rogers; here is the pass-book. When I paid it in, a year ago, I said that I should probably draw it out in a lump for investment. I have written a letter here to the manager, saying that I have given a cheque for five hundred—at least I have left the figures blank at present, and that I shall be obliged if he will fill up and return my pass-book, and let me know the amount remaining to my credit. So that he will be prepared for the cheque when it is presented. In what name shall I fill it in?”
Mr. Barton thought for a minute, and then said, “John Halfourd; he is a lawyer, it 235will be better through him, we do business together.”
David Symes filled up the cheque.
“I have dated it the day after to-morrow,” he said. “I sail to-morrow in the ‘Louisa,’ for America. She warps out of the docks this evening. Put the police on the track of the Australian ships. I depend on you to do this. If I am taken, I shall, of course, stop the payment of the cheque. Good-morning, Mr. Barton.”
“Good-morning, Mr. Symes, a pleasant voyage.”
And the ex-clerk went down the street, whistling gaily.
“That is a monstrous clever fellow,” Mr. Barton said, admiringly; “cool as a cucumber. It is as well, before I do anything else, to see if this money really is at the Bank. There, Reuben, run round with this pass-book to the Joint Stock, and ask them to be good enough to see if it is all right, and then bring it back here. Don’t say who you come from, but do it in a regular way of business.”
While the boy was gone, Mr. Barton sat thinking 236deeply, till he returned with the message that the book was correct with the exception of the interest, which could not be added unless the book was left.
“Is Aaron Solomons here, the man who came from Liverpool yesterday?”
“Yes, sir, he is in the outer office. And am I to see about what you told us before, about the buying the outfit?”
“No, Reuben, that matter is arranged. Tell Solomons to come in here.”
The man entered. He was a well-made, good looking fellow.
“Solomons, when are you thinking of going back to Liverpool?”
“To-night, Mr. Barton.”
“You have never been much in London before, have you?”
“No, sir, I only came up for a week at the time——”
“Yes, Solomons, at the time you assisted at that little affair at the goldsmith’s—there, don’t look nervous, man. I have kept your secret as long as this, and you may rely upon it, that as long as you remain faithful to my interests, I 237shall continue to do so. Then you are sure that the police don’t know you?”
“Quite sure.”
“Very well, then I will tell you what I want. Get yourself up as a gentleman; have you clothes?” The man nodded, and Mr. Barton went on. “Put on moustaches if you like; don’t put on any jewellery about you, but look plain and straightforward. Drive in a Hansom to Clinton’s Bank, and ask to see the manager. Introduce yourself as Mr. Herbert Parker, of 25, Sloane Street, Knightsbridge. The house is really empty at present, but I have got the name put into the red books; it is useful having a name or two which no one else can claim. Say to the manager that you have been intimate for some years with David Symes, a clerk in their Bank, and that some time since he borrowed a hundred pounds of you; mention that you called at his house this morning, and found him gone, and the place in confusion, and that you heard a rumour that he had absconded.”
The man had been taking notes as Mr. Barton went on. He asked now, “What was Symes’s address?—you have not told me.”
238“123, Brompton Square. Say you came down to the Bank at once, to inquire if anything was really wrong with Symes; mention that you have heard him say that he intended to go out some day to his friends in Australia. Do you quite understand all that, Solomons?”
“Quite,” the man said, repeating from his notes the instructions he had received. “After that?”
“After that, the manager is pretty certain to ask you if you would be so good as to go round to the police-station, and tell them what you think are the reasons why Symes will make for Australia. Get him to give you his card, and then go to the police-station, and tell them you have been to the Bank, and, at the manager’s request, came round to give them the information.”
“Is that all, Mr. Barton?”
“Yes, I think so, Solomons, except that you had best go off by the first train after you leave the police-station. Here are fifteen pounds for your trouble.”
The man hesitated a little. “One question, Mr. Barton. Does the man Symes really go to 239Australia?—I suppose you are working to get him away?”
“Why do you ask, Solomons?”
“I ask because, if he is not going to Australia, I do not think you have hit on the safest plan.”
“No, Solomons?—what is your idea? I know you are a sharp fellow, let me hear it, man.”
“Well, Mr. Barton, I should think that in any case the police are safe to have a strong suspicion that it is a plant. Now, if I just get up a little bit flashy—not too strong, you know—they will suspect it still more, and they will be sure to send down to Sloane Street, and find out that No. 25 is empty, and Mr. Herbert Parker is unknown. Now, where does Symes sail for—America?” Mr. Barton nodded. “Very well, if I go and tell the same story, only putting in America for Australia, they will be safe to think that it is a plant, and that I have been sent down to put them on to the American ship while he gets off in an Australian.”
“Very good, indeed, Solomons; very good. I shall double what I promised you, and make it thirty pounds, and if you are inclined in a month 240or so to come up here from Liverpool, I will promise you a good berth. But it is time for you to be at work. Remember, you are very likely to be closely watched when you leave the police-station, so take a four-wheel cab, and leave your bag in it, and change your things as you go to the station. Don’t take the cab all the way, but pay him beforehand, and tell him to stop whenever you get into a lock, so that you can slip out and join in the crowd without being noticed; then take another cab to the station, and take your ticket only as far as Crewe: get out there, and go on by the next train.”
Events turned out as Solomons had predicted. The police had been all day closely watching the ship “Louisa,” which, with several others, was lying in the stream ready for a start in the morning; but in the evening word came down that from information obtained during the day, there was no doubt that David Symes was not going to America, as had been supposed, but to Australia or some other part. Consequently, the sharp watch which had been kept up over the “Louisa” all day was relaxed, and the vigilance of the police was directed to the other vessels preparing 241for a start. The foreign sailor, therefore, who was going out as a passenger in her to New York to take command of a French vessel lying there, passed under their eyes almost unheeded, and by eight o’clock next morning, the “Louisa,” with all sail set, and a strong ebb tide underneath her, was running past Woolwich, to stop no more till she furled her sails in New York harbour.
Mr. Barton was very busy all day, sitting like a spider in his den, and throwing his threads skilfully abroad to entangle the human flies; which, some buzzing gaily in the sunshine unsuspicious of danger, some hiding in nooks and corners, were yet equally sure, sooner or later, to be caught in the meshes.
At a quarter to five Mr. Barton left his office and took his way homeward, in great content at the day’s proceedings.
“Rachel,” he said to his wife, on entering, “we will have a bottle of that old crusted port to-day.”
“That means you have done a good day’s work, Robert?”
“Yes, indeed; the best I have done this many a month. Five hundred pounds clear.”
242“That is good indeed, Robert. What was it—a cross, I suppose?”
“Just so, Rachel. One very seldom makes five hundred in a day’s work by working on the square.” And Mr. Barton told his wife with great glee the day’s incidents. “Four more years, Rachel, and we shall give it up. By the way, that puts me in mind of something,” and he consulted his pocket-book. “It is rather more than six months since I called to see that boy. I will go in there to-morrow night.”
“I suppose, Barton, you cannot do anything with him till he gets of age?”
“Nothing, Rachel; there are only four more years to wait now. That pulled off, we shall be able to retire comfortably.”
“We should not do badly if we gave it up now.”
“By no means, Rachel; but as he will be worth to us at least ten thousand pounds, it will pay very well to go on another four years. Of course I shall make my bargain with him, and get a deed drawn up and signed, before I tell him who he is, and I am sure he would give his ears to be a gentleman.”
243“It was certainly a good idea of yours, Robert, and does you great credit. Suppose, in honour of the occasion, we have two bottles of that old port, instead of one.”