"Which letters, Chivey?"
"The one I"ve got in my pocket, and----"
"Oh, you"ve got one, then. Hand it over, please, Chivey."
"Not so fast, guv"nor. You jest listen to what I"ve got to say first?"
"I am all attention."
"Well, supposing this game was found out, who do you think would get into trouble?"
"Why, you would, undoubtedly; and your friend the French gaoler."
"And don"t you think it"s worth your while to come down very handsome, considering the risk I run."
"It does not strike me in that light; but I do think it would be a good plan for you to get rid of the stolen letter as soon as possible; for if any thing is found out, and the gaoler says he gave you the letters, it is not likely that his word--the word of a man who acknowledges himself a thief--will be taken against yours, unless the doc.u.ments are found in your possession."
"That"s all very well."
"Then if it"s all very well, just hand over the letter."
And Murray held out his hand.
Chivey, very reluctantly, pa.s.sed over the letter, muttering as he did so--
"Well, I"m blest if I don"t think you would whistle a blackbird off the nest while you stole the eggs."
Herbert Murray took no notice of this speech; he was too deeply engrossed with the letter which he found read as follows--
"To Her Britannic Majesty"s Consul at Ma.r.s.eilles:
"SIR,--I have already addressed several letters to you on the subject of the incarceration of myself and friends in the prison of Ma.r.s.eilles, on a charge of counterfeit coining. I also explained how we were led, by the artful devices of a person calling himself Markby, to be actually in the coiner"s house when the police entered it, and, therefore, appearances are certainly against us.
To all those letters you have made no reply, which I think is certainly hard, and not quite right, as I imagine the duty of a British consul includes looking after the interests of British subjects in the town or district he is stationed at.
"Now, sir, in my former letters I requested you to communicate with the bankers in this town, and also with my father, whose address I give below, and who placed money in their hands for my use. If you will do so, you will see that all the statements in my former letters are correct; but if you do not, a number of British subjects will probably be condemned and heavily sentenced, entirely through your neglect.
"Therefore, I beg of you at once to communicate with those who can identify me and my friends, and in the meantime to use your influence to postpone the trial till that communication can be effected.
"Your obedient servant,
"J. HARKAWAY, JUNR."
"My eye!" said Chivey, when Murray had read the letter aloud, "ain"t he getting his back up?"
"No matter. They are all of them safe enough, and if they get out, I"ll forgive them."
"But they won"t forgive you."
"Perhaps not; but ring the bell, Chivey. We"ll have some wine after this, and just hand over the cigar box."
The ex-groom gave a tug at the bell-rope and ordered wine.
Then he took up a cigar-box and, giving it a vigorous shake, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed--
"There ain"t a blessed smoke in it, guv"nor."
"Well, I"ll just put on my hat and stroll up to the shop of Monsieur Cretineau-Joly and order a fresh stock. I must have a few minutes"
exercise before it gets dark; shan"t be ten minutes."
Herbert left the apartment, while Chivey muttered--
"He"s afraid of meeting that Lenoir if he goes out after dark."
And Chivey was quite right.
Herbert Murray walked briskly up the street till he reached the tobacconist"s, where he paused a moment, to look at the numerous varieties of the nicotian herb displayed in the window, along with pipes and cigar tubes of every shape and pattern.
As he looked, several others looked, and one of the lookers, while removing his pipe, was so unfortunate as to allow some of the tobacco ash to blow in Murray"s face.
"Curse you, for an awkward Frenchman," growled Murray, while the other politely apologised for the mishap.
Herbert coughed, and sneezed, and drew out his handkerchief to wipe his face; but neither he nor anyone else noticed at the same time he drew out young Jack Harkaway"s letter, which fluttered slowly to the pavement, where it lay with the address downwards.
Murray bought his box of cigars, and returned to the hotel where he resided, but still the letter lay unheeded beneath the tobacco shop window, till darkness had settled over the town of Ma.r.s.eilles except where street lamps and shop lights pierced the gloom.
Then there came up to the shop an old man, who apparently had been a soldier, as he dragged one leg very stiffly, and had his left arm in a sling.
But although his hair was white, his carriage was upright and martial.
He looked in at the door, then entered, and purchased some tobacco, after which he stood outside and filled his pipe.
"I might have taken a light inside," he muttered, when that operation was finished, and seeing a sc.r.a.p of paper on the pavement, he picked it up, to use as a pipe-light.
But the writing on the outside caught his eye.
"A letter to the British consul!" the old man e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "It may be worth a franc or two, if I restore it to his excellency."
So he thrust it into his pocket, obtained a light, and hobbled away in the direction of the consulate.
But presently he paused in a retired spot, where only a single lamp illumined the surrounding houses.
"I wonder what the letter is about," he said; "I can make a better bargain, perhaps, if I know the contents."
And without more ado, the man pulled out the letter, and read it carefully.
Although it was written in English, the old French soldier seemed to understand it thoroughly.
"That cursed villain"s name again," he hissed, through his teeth, when he had read a few lines. "But I"ll pay him yet."