The Pagan's Cup

Marton reflected, and took a sip of whisky and water. "He's gone. I do not think he will appear again in Colester."

"But he has left his house and all these beautiful things behind him," put in Raston, with a glance around.

"I see he has made himself comfortable," said Marton, with a shrug; "it was always his way! This is not the first time he has furnished a house, settled down. He has been driven out of every burrow, however. This time I discovered his hiding-place by accident. Colester was about the best place in the whole of England he could have chosen. No one would have thought of looking for him here. I daresay he expected to settled down and die in the odour of sanctity, surrounded by his ill-gotten gains. But he has not gone empty-handed, Haverleigh. He is too clever for that, and is always prepared for an emergency."

"But who is Pratt?"

"Well; you are asking me a hard question. I understand he is a workhouse brat of sorts. He himself claims to be the illegitimate son of a nobleman. Certainly, he has a very gentlemanly appearance. He has been working for at least thirty years, and has always contrived to evade the English police. I believe he was laid by the heels in America."

"He has travelled a great deal."

"I believe you! He knows the whole world and all the scoundrels in it. A king of crime! That is what Pratt is. The generality of thieves adore him, for he has his good points, and he is generous. Well, we have talked enough for to-night. I'll sleep here, Haverleigh. Raston?"

"I'll return to my own place," said the curate, rising to go.

And this he did, but Marton, having found the burrow of Pratt, alias Angel, did not intend to leave it. He was quite as clever as the man he was hunting.

CHAPTER XIII

AN INTERESTING DOCUMENT

Marton did not wish the identity of Pratt to be concealed. On the contrary, he gave it as wide a publicity as possible, hoping that it might lead to the man's capture. Everyone from Portfront to Colester knew the would-be country gentleman, so it was not unlikely that he might be caught. Considering that only a night had elapsed, it was impossible that he could have got far away, especially in a fog. And if Pratt escaped there was always the off-chance that Adam might be laid by the heels.

An examination next morning showed Marton that the two bicycles were missing, so he judged that both men had gone off together. It was improbable in Marton's opinion that they had gone to Portfront, as they could not possibly leave before the steamer at seven o'clock, and the police could be communicated with by telegraph before they could get clear of the place. At half-past six Marton routed a telegraph operator out of his bed, and set him to work. He wired to the inspector at Portfront to arrest Pratt and his man forthwith, or, at all events, to detain them until the London police could be communicated with and a warrant for Pratt's manifold iniquities procured.

But, to Marton's surprise, no answer was returned from Inspector German. Yet the inspector knew Pratt well, and, if the man set foot in Portfront, could easily seize him. Later on, somewhere about nine o'clock, the reason that no answer had arrived became apparent. A messenger came from Portfront to say that the telegraph wire between that place and Portfront had been cut midway. There was only one line, so all communication had been broken off. The steamer had started, and, without doubt, the two men were on board. At once Marton started off to Portfront on the curate's bicycle. On his arrival he went to see German.

The inspector was much astonished when he heard the story. He had not received the wire, and therefore had done nothing. In Marton's company he hurried to the office of the steamer.

"You see the kind of man we have to deal with, German," said Marton, much vexed. "It was a clever dodge to cut the wire, and yet he gave himself away. I did not think he would go to Portfront, but the cutting of the wire proves he did. We'll wire to Worthing, and stop him there."

An inquiry at the steamer office resulted in nothing. It seemed that Mr Pratt had a season ticket, and therefore had not purchased one. Nor had Adam, so it might be that he was still in the town. The loafers on the pier said they had not seen Pratt go aboard.

"Humph!" said Marton, "he sneaked on in some disguise."

"Is he clever at disguising himself?" asked German.

"I should think so. His own mother would not know him. Still, he had no time to make-up before he left Colester, so he may not be so carefully disguised. I daresay we can catch him at Worthing."

A wire was sent to Worthing forthwith, and another to Scotland Yard, requesting that someone might be sent down to take charge of Pratt's house, and to identify the goods he had in it. There was a list of the houses Pratt had broken into, and a list of the stolen goods also, so it would be easy to have this brought down and compared with the contents of The Nun's House. Having thus done all that he could under the circumstances, Marton returned to Colester, where he found the curate and Leo waiting for him. The latter had now taken up his quarters at the inn. But he kept within doors, as now that the identity of Pratt was known, Leo was credited with having been his confederate.

There was tremendous excitement in Colester over the discovery that the village had entertained unawares a well-known London thief. Many of the villagers flattered themselves on the stern and non-committal attitude they had adopted towards the too fascinating stranger. Mr Pratt had never been very popular, but now he was spoken ill of on every hand. The whole village would have been delighted to have seen him in the power of the law.

But Pratt was too clever for them all. The wire to Worthing produced no result. Neither Pratt nor Adam were on board. It then appeared that the steamer had put in at Bognor. Marton had omitted to advise the police there of the fugitives, so it was presumed that they had got off with the rest of the passengers. The captain did not know Adam by sight, and Pratt had evidently disguised himself well. At all events, in the crowd the two had passed unnoticed. Although the London stations were watched, no sight could be caught of them.

"A clever man Pratt!" said Marton, when informed of his ill success. "I am perfectly certain of the way in which he went about the matter. He and his servant got off at Bognor, and alighted at some station just outside the metropolis. They got to their own haunts by some back way."

"Do you know of their haunts?" asked Leo, who was keenly interested in the matter, and could not help feeling relieved that Pratt had escaped.

"Oh! they change them every now and then. Besides, Adam will keep out of sight, and Pratt will so disguise himself that there will be no recognising him. He's got clean away this time. And I believe, Mr Haverleigh," added Marton, with a laugh, "that you are rather pleased!"

"Well," said Leo, with some hesitation, "in spite of all you say, I can't bring myself to believe that Pratt is a bad sort of chap. He was very kind to me."

"He is kind to most people. He poses as a kind of modern Robin Hood, who robs the rich to give to the poor. I have known him to do many kind actions. But he is a scamp for all that, and if I could lay my hands on him I'd get him!"

Mrs Gabriel was much annoyed to find that Pratt was so notorious a character. She determined to clear herself of complicity in his sordid crimes, although no one ever suspected that she had any knowledge of the man's true character. She sent for Marton, and had a long talk with him about Pratt; incidentally a reference was made to Leo.

"I have asked you to see me, Mr Marton," she said, "because it was I who introduced Mr Pratt to Colester. I have known him ten years, and he always appeared to me to be a most respectable American."

"He is not an American at all," said Marton. "But he could assume any nationality that suited him for the moment. He is a brilliantly-clever man, Mrs Gabriel, and I do not wonder he took you in."

"He got no money out of me, at all events," said the lady, grimly.

"Ah! Then you escaped easily. The wonder is he did not try and marry you! A rich widow is exactly the kind of victim he would like."

"I am not the sort of woman to be anyone's victim, Mr Marton."

Marton, looking at her stern, strong face, quite agreed, but he was too polite to give vent to his feelings. He merely inquired how Mrs Gabriel had become acquainted with this Prince of Swindlers. She had no hesitation in giving him full details.

"I met him at a Swiss hotel many years ago," she said. "He was then called Pratt, and he posed as a rich American. I met with an accident while out walking on the hill above Montreux, and lay out till nightfall. Mr Pratt rescued me from this very unpleasant position, and took me back to the hotel. A friendship sprang up between us, and when he returned to England he called on me. As he was always the same for ten years, and I saw much of him, I never suspected that he was other than he represented himself to be. Besides, Mr Marton, you must admit he is a most fascinating man."

"Much too fascinating, Mrs Gabriel, as many have found to their cost."

Mrs Gabriel reflected a moment. "Do you think he will be put in prison?"

"Certainly, if we catch him," replied Marton, quietly; "he is a man dangerous to society. All his life he has been a rogue and a criminal. All his money comes to him in the wrong way. That house below – I believe you let it to him, Mrs Gabriel – is filled with the proceeds of his robberies. He bought the furniture, but the objects of art – even the pictures – have all been stolen. In a few days I shall have some people down from Scotland Yard to identify the things and restore them to their owners. But as to Mr Pratt, I fear he has escaped out of the clutches of the law – as usual."

"I cannot say I regret it," said Mrs Gabriel, boldly. "Bad as he is, there are worse people in the world, Mr Marton. But tell me, sir. You are investigating this robbery. My adopted son, Mr Haverleigh is suspected."

"He is perfectly innocent, Mrs Gabriel. The money he was said to have obtained from the sale of the cup was given to him by Sir Frank Hale."

"Sir Frank denies it."

"So Mr Haverleigh says. But I'll see Sir Frank myself, and see what I can make of him. I would rather believe Mr Haverleigh than anyone else. He has an absolutely open nature."

"He is a fool, if that is what you mean."

"Pardon me, I do not think so! A man can be straightforward and honourable, as Mr Haverleigh is, without being a fool. As yet I have not investigated this case, as my attention has been taken up with Pratt. But in a day or so I hope to go to work and then I am prepared to say that the crime will not be brought home to your nephew."

"Have you any suspicions?"

"Not yet. I have not searched out the evidence sufficiently."

"Mrs Jeal saw my nephew pawn the cup."

"Ah! That is a mystery which I must fathom, Mrs Gabriel. A person resembling Mr Haverleigh pawned the cup, but I am sure it was not your nephew. There is a conspiracy against him, on whose part I am not prepared to say yet. But I shall find it out, clear his character, and punish those who have been concerned in it. And now, Mrs Gabriel, I must bid you good-day, as my time is fully occupied. Let me, however, inform you that there is no need to excuse your association with Mr Pratt. I quite understand how he wriggled himself into your acquaintance, and you are in no way to blame. Once more, good-day!"

Marton bowed himself out. But he had seen enough of Mrs Gabriel to note the strong hatred she bore towards Leo, and he wondered what could be the reason. Also, he saw that for a moment she had flinched at the mention of conspiracy, which set him on the alert as to whether her detestation of her nephew had carried her so far as to plot against his good name.