THE NOVELIST!

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 23, 19 February 1881, Page 233

THE NOVELIST!

HUNTED DOWN.

A NOVEL. By Adolphe Bei,ot. CHAPTEE XIV. Cooke walked down the street. He needed exercise and fre.sk air. His head Avas heavy, his eyes were hot, and all his joints ached. It had been enough to tire anybody, to sit down at midnight, to remain there till 11 a.m., and during the whole time to do nothing but shuttle the cards, say over and over again the same words, and do over and over again the same things;. not to be able to get up, nor to walk about for fear of changing the luck ; to be hungry, and yet be prevented from eating by the dread of losing a moment; to be dying of thirst and not to be able to drink, lest your self-possession should be left in the glass ; in short, to live in a pestiferous atmosphere, in the midst of a cloud of tobacco smoke which blinds you ! But the passion for gambling brings about an insensibility to all privations and all sufferings, both moral and physical. A gambler, so long as he has cards, money, and somebody to play against, is never unhappy— nothing can touch him. Shut four gamblers up in the same dungeon, give full liberty to indulge their passion, and you will not have to accuse them of an attempt to escape. Nay, more, if on the day of

their release they are engaged in some tremendously exciting game for high stakes, they will heg another twenty -four hours' imprisonment. In the midst of his fatigue, Cooke did not suffer from want of sleep — a winner never is sleepy. He counts his money, makes his calculations, and indulges in innumerable dreams. It is the losers who sleep heavily when they lay their heads on the pillow, and thus forget a loss which is hound to he felt, whatever it may he, or however great may be their income. Besides, they must somehow get together strength enough to enable them on the morrow to go in search of money to discharge their debts of honour.

But Cooke cannot be .simply set down as a fortunate gambler only. It was not the satisfaction, of being a winner, and counting his gains, which kept him awake ; it was his exultation over a first victory, and the favourable opening of his campaign. He did not promise himself all sorts of longings gratified with his newly acquired banlt-notes ; he hugged to himself the thought that he had Brownpath at his mercy, that out of his own resources lie had enclosed him in a net stronger than the walls of the prison, that he had him, as it were, in solitary confinement, and that he must speak on. " I am," he reasoned, "a more formidable examining magistrate than Sir Hemy, because I have both time and space before me, besides having a woman at my side with whom I can do what I will, and who is even more devoted to my schemes than I am myself." Then he reflected that, with the money in his pocket which he had won, he could live the same life as Brownpath did, share his tastes and pleasures, dine at Very's, if it

was necessary— he, who was accustomed to a .shilling restaurant — and hire a job-carriage instead of hesitating over an omnibus. In short, lie could surround himself with all the necessary luxury and deceive everybody as to his identity, for nobody with any common sense would suppose that a minor enqiloi/ce of the government would chuck his money out of the window. That would be an unheardof tiling. Then, stopping short in these reilections, he exclaimed — "And to think of my arriving unaided at the desired result, without having recourse to the purse placed at my disposal by Sir John Thornton, and without having to ask the Commissioner of Police to trench upon the secret service fund ! Secret service indeed, a correct definition— so secret that we .secret service agents never see it, and yet there are people who imagine that we live on two thousand a year. What a mistake they make ! " Thus talking to himself, Cooke, after going doAvn Regent-street, reached his own modest dwelling-place. Having paid some attention to his toilet, placed the greater part of his money in a place of safety, and wrote according to promise to Sir John, made his way to St. John's Wood, where Mrs. Hardcastle was expecting him. He told her what had happened in the draw-ing-room of Miss Hamilton after she left, and then unfolded for her ready approval his new ideas. " Once consent to meet JJrownp«ath as often as possible," he remarked, "and you cannot continue to live in this house. If lie were one day to follow you here he would know who you are, and all would be lost." "Evidently."

"Then you liavc made up your mind to change your residence ? ' "No, I shall retain these rooms, avMcli I cannot give np because of the 'reminiscences belonging to them. But I can take other apartments "whither I can go whenever necessary." "Will you authorise me to select those apartments ?" "Yes." " Where do you wish to live?" "It does not matter to me in the least. You have only to tell me what my new address is." "You shall have it this evening." When he left, he betook himself to the Temple bazaar, and there bought two travelling trunks, such as might have belonged to some rich foreigner and which actually had on them the labels of the countries they had passed through. He filled them with no end of things, ready to hand in that extensive bazaar — appurtenances for the toilet, notepaper, envelopes, I blotting-books, all with a crest on them, goldheaded canes, ready-made shirts, and fashionable clothes. The look of these trunks ready to burst with their contents could not fail to inspire the people of the hotel whither he was going with unlimited confidence. He had nothing more to do now but install himself in the hotel he had mentioned to Brownpath and await the arrival of that individual, an event, which, according to Cooke's calculations, would not long be delayed. As soon as he had opened and emptied his trunks, arranged the various articles on his chest of drawers, filled the wardrobes with clothes and linen, as soon, in fact, as he had i arranged his stage according to his fancy, lie

emerged from his rooms with considerable pomp of manner, put on grand airs as he passed 'a waiter, gave orders at the office that the hairdresser, bootmaker and hatter attached to the hotel should be sent to him when he got up next morning, and then went out on to Oxfordstreet in search of lodgings for Mrs. Hardcastle. It would have been better for her to have taken up her abode at his hotel, and if he had said to her, "I have taken rooms for you next to mine," she would probably not have made any remark. Eleanor had only one thought — revenge. Cooke, as far as she was concerned, was not a man ; he was a means to an end. After a long search, he at last chose a house in Portland-street. The rooms had one great advantage; they Avere furnished, yet did not form part of a regular lodging-house. The previous tenant obliged to leave London suddenly, Avas endeavouring to get as much as possible, during his absence, out of his lease and furniture. This furniture, without being new, Avas still fresh and in good taste, and there was nothing about it to avouihl the susceptibilities of any Avoman, however elegant. But Avhat took Cooke's fancy more than anything else Avas the circumstance that the rooms had two entrances, by two separate staircases. The drawing-room, besides its main communication Avith the dining-room and the principal entrance, thus also opened by means of a glared door, on to a small passage leading to a servants' staircase. Cooke, ever on the alert, managed to be left alone in the rooms for a moment, and profited by his solitude to put the key of the servants' staircase in his pocket and to scrape aAvay a small portion of the frosted glass of the door,

and by this means lie secured an opening through which he might see as well as hear what went on in the drawing-room. " One never knows what may happen, and' it is just as well to take every precaution," said he. "It is sometimes of no use, "but it never does harm." For more than thirty-six hours the policeagent had not enjoyed a moment's repose, so he went home and betook himself to bed at once. Nevertheless, he did not sleep as soundly as one might imagine he ought to have done. Was it some fond memory that kept him awake ? On the following day, Cooke, after having interviewed various tradesman, breakfasted and then calmly awaited the arrival of Brownpath. Gambling debts are generally paid within twenty-four hours, and he had, therefore, every right to expect a visit from his creditor of tlte previous evening. He had only one fear, which was that Brownpath might have been able to get hold of the fourteen thousand pounds he owed him, and that he, would bring them. An ordinary creditor would have been only too delighted at such punctuality, but the mere thought of it caused Cooke the greatest uneasiness, for his whole plan depended upon the very probable assumption that Brownpath would find it impossible to discharge his debt. As for the idea that he would simply not pay and keep away, as may and does happen every day, it would not hold water for a moment. . Brownpath, since his arrest, was in too insecure a position to play such pranks. He was far too prudent, under such circumstances, to give any handle to well-founded suspicions, and so brinohis name into prominence, and again draw attend tion to the sad affair in which, he had been