Confessions of a Young Lady Part 56

There's some as would give a hundred pounds, and more, to find me in here--but they've got to find someone who'll give them the office. I don't think you will, what do you think? By George, you're a ripper!

You look like gla.s.s, you do, I'd no idea you were such a beauty. Why, you'd look well in any company, I know what I'm talking about, I do.

You mark my words! I'm going in for a clean hundred thousand pounds, and I'm going to touch it too, and you're the very sort I want to come in with me. We'll go shares, fifty thousand pounds a-piece! What do you say to that? You wait a minute, and I'll tell you all about it, I want to say a word to my old landlady."

He left the room. She was afraid that he would lock the door behind him, but he was evidently too wholly unsuspicious of the true state of the case to think of doing anything of the kind. In a moment her resolution was formed, with such strength as was left to her. She waited till she heard that his footsteps had receded along the pa.s.sage. Then she too stole from the room. She crept along the pa.s.sage with as little noise as possible. She reached the front door. The hall was in darkness; she fumbled with the latch, the sound reaching the keen ears of Captain Jim.

"What's that? Who's there?"

She found the handle; the door was open. Captain Jim came running along the pa.s.sage. But with all his haste, he was too late. She was through the door, half a dozen paces away. The street was a mean one, dark and deserted. But, some hundred yards off, there was the gleam of lights, the roar of traffic, and evidently close at hand was some big thoroughfare. If she could only reach it she might be safe.

Despair--the consciousness that it was now or never--lent her wings.

She ran as she had never run before. Yet the man behind her ran faster still. She knew he gained. Another effort--still she might be at the corner first. As she reached it, he caught her by the shoulder. His voice was hoa.r.s.e with rage.

"What the devil does this mean? What little game do you think you're up to?"

"Help! Help!" she screamed.

Just as the man was beginning to draw her back into the side street someone came hurrying towards her across the pavement. Someone, who, without the slightest hesitation, struck Captain Jim full in the face, with such force and such science, that that gentleman went down like a ninepin.

"You villain!" exclaimed a voice--which sounded to the girl like a voice from heaven. "What are you doing to this lady?"

"Frank!" she cried.

"Edith? Great heavens! is it you?"

In another moment the wife was crying in her husband's arms.

"Oh, Frank, take me away, before they kill me."

Captain Jim had regained his feet. He seemed disposed to bl.u.s.ter--though evidently not completely at his ease.

"What did you hit me for? Who do you think you're knocking about? What do you mean by interfering between my wife and me?"

"Your wife--you hound? Think yourself lucky if I let you go. Say another word and I'll call that constable, and give you into custody."

As it chanced, at that moment a policeman was seen approaching. At sight of him, Captain Jim, apparently completely at a loss to understand the situation, slunk off, muttering curses beneath his breath. Mr Bankes hailed a pa.s.sing hansom. When he got into it he found that his wife had fainted.

CHAPTER VI--AFTERWARDS

They returned by the nine o'clock train. The strange happenings herein set forth took place in a very much shorter time than it has taken to tell of them. She told her tale of wonder as they travelled homewards, he listening with open-mouthed amazement, interpolating occasional suggestions as to what he would like to do to some of the characters treated of in the lady's narrative.

When the Christmas guests arrived upon the morrow they little guessed what was the real inspiration of the exceeding warmth with which their hostess greeted them. Never was there a happier Christmas gathering, "a more united family." Everything went off without a hitch.

Mary Griffiths was tried for her share in the robbery of the Denyer jewels, and Frank Bankes was solicitor for the prosecution. She was found guilty. Previous convictions having been proved against her, she was sentenced to a term of penal servitude.

Mr and Mrs Bankes have heard nothing of that gang of dreadful women who got the lady in their clutches owing to such a very singular misunderstanding. Nor of Captain Jim. Truth to tell they have made no enquiries with a view of hearing, being desirous that no one but themselves should know that Mrs Bankes was ever--even for so short a s.p.a.ce of time--a runaway wife.

She has never felt disposed to run away since, and come what may, she is absolutely convinced that she never will.

THE END