The Nine of Hearts

"Nothing easier but I shouldn't go as I am, if I were you."

"Why not?"

"Well, you see, she had a pretty long examination in court at the Layton trial, and you were there all the time. She has sharp eyes in her head, has Miss Ida White, and she might recognize you, and smell a rat."

"You are right. I had better not go."

"I don't see why you shouldn't, if you let me fix you up."

"Fix me up?"

"Yes, sir."

He took from his pocket a small box of paints, and two or three sets of wigs and whiskers and mustaches.

"I always travel with them, sir. I can make myself into another man in five minutes or so, and as for a change of clothes, any handy cheap-clothes shop will serve my turn. Put on these sandy whiskers and mustaches-always hide your mouth, sir-and this sandy wig, and let me touch you up a bit, and your own mother wouldn't know you."

I doubted whether she would when I looked at myself in the glass after carrying out Fowler's instructions, and in less than a quarter of an hour we were riding in a four-wheeled cab to Brixton. We alighted within a couple of hundred yards of Miss Ida White's lodgings, and Fowler took me boldly into the house, requesting me on the way thither to try and discover the men working under him who were keeping watch upon the lady's-maid's movements. To his gratification, I failed to discover them.

"Then you didn't see me give the office to them?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"I did, though, under your very nose. That is a guarantee to you, sir, that the thing is being neatly done. Miss White is in the house. If she were not, my men wouldn't be in the street. Did you hear the snapping of a lock down-stairs?"

"No."

We were sitting at the window of Fowler's room, which was situated on the second floor. It was the front room, and we could therefore see into the street.

"It was the key turning in my lady's room. She is going out. There's the street door slamming. You heard that, of course?"

"Yes, I heard that."

"And there is Miss Ida White crossing the road to the opposite side of the way, and there, sir, are my men following her, without her having the slightest suspicion that she is being tracked."

My sight is strong, and I had a clear view of Ida White. She was stylishly dressed, and was certainly good-looking.

"It is my opinion," said Fowler, "that she feathered her nest when she was in Mrs. Layton's service but I don't care how much money she may have saved or filched, if she goes on betting on horses the book-makers will have every penny of it."

There was nothing more to be done, and feeling somewhat ill at ease in my disguise, I prepared to leave.

"I will see you out of the street, sir," said Fowler. "It happens often enough that watchers are watched, without their being aware of it."

Before I bade Fowler good-day I impressed upon him that no money was to be spared in the business had intrusted to him, and that he had better engage two or three more men, to be ready for any emergency that might occur. He promised to do so, and I made my way home.

VI

THE DAY AFTER THE DERBY

Before commencing an account of what has been done, and what discovered, I cannot refrain from writing one sentence. Success has crowned our efforts.

There is no need here to minutely describe our proceedings on Monday and Tuesday. Sufficient to say that I was in constant communication with Fowler-who As a most trustworthy fellow, and shrewd to the tips of his nails-and that I had occasion on Tuesday to again assume my disguise. On Tuesday night I saw Dr. Daincourt, and was glad to learn from him that there was an improvement in Miss Rutland's condition.

"Due," he observed, "in a great measure to certain assurances I imparted to her in a voice so distinct and cheerful as to impress itself upon her fevered imagination."

"That is good news," I said. "You are administering what she requires-medicine for the mind."

I come now at once to the account of one of the most exciting days-the Derby Day of 1885-I have ever passed through. Fowler was in my house at seven o'clock in the morning, and brought with him a suit of clothes which he wished me to wear. He had forewarned me that he intended to make a change in his own appearance, and I was therefore not surprised when he presented himself in the guise of a well-to-do farmer who had come to London to see the Derby.

"Miss White is going, sir," he said, "and we are going, too. I have been living in the house with her these last two days, and it is important that she should not recognize me. I have a piece of satisfactory information for you. It is an even bet that before this day is out I bring you face to face with Mr. Eustace Rutland."

"If you do," said I, "you will lose nothing by it. Bring me into the same room as that young man, and I will wring from him what I desire to know."

"Don't get excited, sir," said Fowler. "Keep cool. You have had a good night's rest, I hope?"

"Yes, I slept well."

"That's right. Make a hearty breakfast, as I am going to do. We shall need all our strength. It is going to be a heavy day for us."

"Where does Ida White start from?" I asked.

"I can't tell you, sir. I pumped the landlady of the house, but she knew nothing except that a new bonnet had arrived for our lady-bird. Miss White is as close as wax, but that new bonnet means the Derby, if it means anything. She can't very well start before nine o'clock, and we shall be on the watch for her not later than half-past eight. I have six men engaged in the affair, sir. It will cost something."

"Never mind the cost," I said "it is the last thing to be considered."

"That is the way to work to success. Many a ship is spoiled for a ha'porth of tar. We shall come out of this triumphant, or my name is not Fowler."

His confident, hopeful manner inspired me with confidence, and after partaking of a substantial breakfast we both set out for Brixton. Fowler had hired a cab by the hour, with a promise of double fare to the driver, to whom he gave explicit instructions. We did not enter the house; we lingered at the corner of a street at some distance from it, and at twenty minutes to ten Miss Ida White closed the street door behind her. Secret signals passed between Fowler and his men, and we followed the lady's-maid, the cab which Fowler had engaged crawling in our rear without attracting attention. Miss White sauntered on until she came to a cab-stand, and entering a cab, was driven away. We were after her like a shot. Two other cabs started at the same time, and I learned from Fowler that they were hired by his men.

"Don't think I have drawn off all my forces, sir," he said. "Although Miss White has left the house, there are two men on watch, who will remain there the whole of the day. She has started early. It will make it all the easier for us."

Miss White's cab stopped at Victoria Station, and we stopped also.

"She's a smart-looking woman, sir," whispered Fowler to me.

"She has a splendid complexion," I remarked.

"Put on, sir," said Fowler, smiling. – "put on. Leave a lady's-maid alone to learn the tricks of the face."

Ida White purchased a first-class ticket for Epsom Downs, and we did the same. Had I followed my own judgment I should have avoided the carriage in which Miss White travelled, but Fowler pushed me in before him, and got in afterwards, and being under his command, I did not hesitate. He had purchased a number of newspapers, and shortly after we started he surprised me by opening a conversation with a stranger. He spoke with a Lancashire accent, and I should have been deceived by his voice had he not been sitting by my side. The subject, of course, was the Derby, and he appeared to be eager to obtain information as to the merits and chances of the various runners.

Meanwhile, Miss White, who had also purchased every sporting paper she saw, had taken from her pocket a Racing Guide, in which the performances of the horses were recorded. She studied this Guide with great seriousness, and was continually consulting the newspapers to ascertain how far the opinions of the sporting prophets agreed with the information of the authority with which she had provided herself. "So," thought I, "this young woman, whose whole soul seems wrapped up in racing matters, is the same young woman who in court declared that she hated races and betting men." Before we were half an hour on our journey I felt perfectly at ease in her presence. It was clear that she considered herself safe, and among strangers. The conversation between Fowler and the gentleman became more animated; others joined in, and I observed that Miss White's attention was attracted to their utterances, Every now and then she made a memorandum in a small metallic book, and before we arrived at Epsom Downs she allowed herself to be drawn into conversation, and freely expressed her opinions upon the horses that were to run for the blue ribbon of the turf. I did not venture to address her, but Fowler had no fear, and extracted from her the names of the horses she believed to have the best chances. He slapped his thigh, and declared that he should back them.

We alighted at Epsom Downs, and rode to the race-course. The great rush of the day had not yet set in, but although the Grand Stand was scarcely a third part filled, there were already many there who had taken up a favorable position from which to see the principal race of the day. Fowler improved upon his acquaintance with Miss White, and I obeyed the instructions he managed to convey to me not to stick too close to him. I did not lose sight of him, however, and presently he came and said to me, in an undertone,

"It's all right, sir; I'm making headway. I've told her where I come from in Lancashire, and that I am a single man with a goodish bit of property which has just fallen to me through the death of my father. I've given her my card-I had some printed yesterday in case they might be wanted. We are going up-stairs to have a bit of luncheon before the races commence."

Up-stairs we went to the luncheon-room, where Fowler called for a bottle of dry champagne, in which we drank good-luck to each other. It was only by great exertions that we managed, after lunch, to squeeze ourselves into the Grand Stand. The crush was terrific up the narrow stairs, and Miss Ida White would have fared badly had it not been for Fowler's gallant attentions.