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say that you were in at the game with Maitland; that you had a lot of the money placed in your charge; that when Maitland went to prison, you took the child away, first to Brighton, then abroadā€”disappeared with himā€”and that you made a home ready for Maitland when he came out. Thatā€™s whatā€™s said by some people in Market Milcaster.ā€

Miss Baylisā€™s stern lips curled.

ā€œPeople in Market Milcaster!ā€ she exclaimed. ā€œAll the people I ever knew in Market Milcaster had about as many brains between them as that cat on the wall there. As for making a home for John Maitland, I would have seen him die in the gutter, of absolute want, before I would have given him a crust of dry bread!ā€

ā€œYou appear to have a terrible dislike of this man,ā€ observed Spargo, astonished at her vehemence.

ā€œI hadā€”and I have,ā€ she answered. ā€œHe tricked my sister into a marriage with him when he knew that she would rather have married an honest man who worshipped her; he treated her with quiet, infernal cruelty; he robbed her and me of the small fortunes our father left us.ā€

ā€œAh!ā€ said Spargo. ā€œWell, so you say Maitland came to you, when he came out of prison, to ask for his boy. Did he take the boy?ā€

ā€œNoā€”the boy was dead.ā€

ā€œDead, eh? Then I suppose Maitland did not stop long with you?ā€

Miss Baylis laughed her scornful laugh.

ā€œI showed him the door!ā€ she said.

ā€œWell, did he tell you that he was going to Australia?ā€ enquired Spargo.

ā€œI should not have listened to anything that he told me, Mr. Spargo,ā€ she answered.

ā€œThen, in short,ā€ said Spargo, ā€œyou never heard of him again?ā€

ā€œI never heard of him again,ā€ she declared passionately, ā€œand I only hope that what you tell me is true, and that Marbury really was Maitland!ā€

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MOTHER GUTCH

Spargo, having exhausted the list of questions which he had thought out on his way to Bayswater, was about to take his leave of Miss Baylis, when a new idea suddenly occurred to him, and he turned back to that formidable lady.

ā€œIā€™ve just thought of something else,ā€ he said. ā€œI told you that Iā€™m certain Marbury was Maitland, and that he came to a sad endā€”murdered.ā€

ā€œAnd Iā€™ve told you,ā€ she replied scornfully, ā€œthat in my opinion no end could be too bad for him.ā€

ā€œJust soā€”I understand you,ā€ said Spargo. ā€œBut I didnā€™t tell you that he was not only murdered but robbedā€”robbed of probably a good deal. Thereā€™s good reason to believe that he had securities, bank notes, loose diamonds, and other things on him to the value of a large amount. Heā€™d several thousand pounds when he left Coolumbidgee, in New South Wales, where heā€™d lived quietly for some years.ā€

Miss Baylis smiled sourly.

ā€œWhatā€™s all this to me?ā€ she asked.

ā€œPossibly nothing. But you see, that money, those securities, may be recovered. And as the boy you speak of is dead, there surely must be somebody whoā€™s entitled to the lot. Itā€™s worth having, Miss Baylis, and thereā€™s strong belief on the part of the police that it will turn up.ā€

This was a bit of ingenious bluff on the part of Spargo; he watched its effect with keen eyes. But Miss Baylis was adamant, and she looked as scornful as ever.

ā€œI say again whatā€™s all that to me?ā€ she exclaimed.

ā€œWell, but hadnā€™t the dead boy any relatives on his fatherā€™s side?ā€ asked Spargo. ā€œI know youā€™re his aunt on the motherā€™s side, and as youā€™re indifferent perhaps, I can find some on the other side. Itā€™s very easy to find all these things out, you know.ā€

Miss Baylis, who had begun to stalk back to the house in gloomy and majestic fashion, and had let Spargo see plainly that this part of the interview was distasteful to her, suddenly paused in her stride and glared at the young journalist.

ā€œEasy to find all these things out?ā€ she repeated.

Spargo caught, or fancied he caught, a note of anxiety in her tone. He was quick to turn his fancy to practical purpose.

ā€œOh, easy enough!ā€ he said. ā€œI could find out all about Maitlandā€™s family through that boy. Quite, quite easily!ā€

Miss Baylis had stopped now, and stood glaring at him. ā€œHow?ā€ she demanded.

ā€œIā€™ll tell you,ā€ said Spargo with cheerful alacrity. ā€œIt is, of course, the easiest thing in the world to trace all about his short life. I suppose I can find the register of his birth at Market Milcaster, and you, of course, will tell me where he died. By the by, when did he die, Miss Baylis?ā€

But Miss Baylis was going on again to the house.

ā€œI shall tell you nothing more,ā€ she said angrily. ā€œIā€™ve told you too much already, and I believe all youā€™re here for is to get some news for your paper. But I will, at any rate tell you thisā€”when Maitland went to prison his child would have been defenceless but for me; heā€™d have had to go to the workhouse but for me; he hadnā€™t a single relation in the world but me, on either fatherā€™s or motherā€™s side. And even at my age, old woman as I am, Iā€™d rather beg my bread in the street, Iā€™d rather starve and die, than touch a penny piece that had come from John Maitland! Thatā€™s all.ā€

Then without further word, without offering to show Spargo the way out, she marched in at the open window and disappeared. And Spargo, knowing no other way, was about to follow her when he heard a sudden rustling sound in the shadow by which they had stood, and the next moment a queer, cracked, horrible voice, suggesting all sorts of things, said distinctly and yet in a whisper:

ā€œYoung man!ā€

Spargo turned and stared at the privet hedge behind him. It was thick and bushy, and in its full summer green, but it seemed to him that he saw a nondescript shape behind. ā€œWhoā€™s there?ā€ he demanded. ā€œSomebody listening?ā€

There was a curious cackle of laughter from behind the hedge; then the cracked, husky voice spoke again.

ā€œYoung man, donā€™t you move or look as if you were talking to anybody. Do you know where the ā€˜King of Madagascarā€™ public-house is in this quarter of the town, young man?ā€

ā€œNo!ā€ answered Spargo. ā€œCertainly not!ā€

ā€œWell, anybodyā€™ll tell you when you get outside, young man,ā€ continued the queer voice of the unseen person. ā€œGo there, and wait at the corner by the ā€˜King of Madagascar,ā€™ and Iā€™ll come there to you at the end of half an hour. Then Iā€™ll tell you something, young manā€”Iā€™ll tell you something. Now run away, young man, run away to the ā€˜King of Madagascarā€™ā€”Iā€™m coming!ā€

The voice ended in low, horrible cachinnation which made Spargo feel queer. But he was young enough to be in love with adventure, and he immediately turned on his heel without so much as a glance at the privet hedge, and went across the garden and through the house, and let himself out at the door. And at the next corner of the square he met a policeman and asked him if he knew where the ā€œKing of Madagascarā€ was.

ā€œFirst to the right, second to the left,ā€ answered the policeman tersely. ā€œYou canā€™t miss it anywhere round thereā€”itā€™s a landmark.ā€

And Spargo found the landmarkā€”a great, square-built tavernā€”easily, and he waited at a corner of it wondering what he was going to see, and intensely curious about the owner of the queer voice, with all its suggestions of he knew not what. And suddenly there came up to him an old woman and leered at him in a fashion that made him suddenly realize how dreadful old age may be.

Spargo had never seen such an old woman as this in his life. She was dressed respectably, better than respectably. Her gown was good; her bonnet was smart; her smaller fittings were good. But her face was evil; it showed unmistakable signs of a long devotion to the bottle; the old eyes leered and ogled, the old lips were wicked. Spargo felt a sense of disgust almost amounting to nausea, but he was going to hear what the old harridan had to say and he tried not to look what he felt.

ā€œWell?ā€ he said, almost roughly. ā€œWell?ā€

ā€œWell, young man, there you are,ā€ said his new acquaintance. ā€œLet us go inside, young man; thereā€™s a quiet little place where a lady can sit and take her drop of ginā€”Iā€™ll show you. And if youā€™re good to me, Iā€™ll tell you something about that cat that you were talking to just now. But youā€™ll give me a little matter to put in my pocket, young man? Old ladies like me have a right to buy little comforts, you know, little comforts.ā€

Spargo followed this extraordinary person into a small parlour within; the attendant who came in response to a ring showed no astonishment at her presence; he also seemed to know exactly what she required, which was a certain brand of gin, sweetened, and warm. And Spargo watched her curiously as with shaking hand she pushed up the veil which hid little of her wicked old face, and lifted the glass to her mouth with a zest which was not thirst but pure greed of liquor. Almost instantly he saw a new light steal into her eyes, and she laughed in a voice that grew clearer with every sound she made.

ā€œAh, young man!ā€ she said with a confidential nudge of the elbow that made Spargo long to get up and fly. ā€œI wanted that! Itā€™s done me good. When Iā€™ve finished that, youā€™ll pay for another for meā€”and perhaps another? Theyā€™ll do me still more good. And youā€™ll give me a little matter of money, wonā€™t you, young man?ā€

ā€œNot till I know what Iā€™m giving it for,ā€ replied Spargo.

ā€œYouā€™ll be giving it because Iā€™m going to tell you that if itā€™s made worth my while I can tell you, or somebody that sent you, more about Jane Baylis than anybody in the world. Iā€™m not going to tell you that now, young manā€”Iā€™m sure you donā€™t carry in your pocket what I shall want for my secret, not you, by the look of you! Iā€™m only going to show you that I have the secret. Eh?ā€

ā€œWho are you?ā€ asked Spargo.

The woman leered and chuckled. ā€œWhat are you going to give me, young man?ā€ she asked.

Spargo put his fingers in his pocket and pulled out two half-sovereigns.

ā€œLook here,ā€ he said, showing his companion the coins, ā€œif you can tell me anything of importance you shall have these. But no trifling, now. And no wasting of time. If you have anything to tell, out with it!ā€

The woman stretched out a trembling, claw-like hand.

ā€œBut let me hold one of those, young man!ā€ she implored. ā€œLet me hold one of the beautiful bits of gold. I shall tell you all the better if I hold one of them. Let meā€”thereā€™s a good young gentleman.ā€

Spargo gave her one of the coins, and resigned himself to his fate, whatever it might be.

ā€œYou wonā€™t get the other unless you tell something,ā€ he said. ā€œWho are you, anyway?ā€

The woman, who had begun mumbling and chuckling over the half-sovereign, grinned horribly.

ā€œAt the boarding-house yonder, young man, they call me Mother Gutch,ā€ she answered; ā€œbut my proper name is Mrs. Sabina Gutch, and once upon a time I was a good-looking young woman. And when my husband died I went to Jane Baylis as housekeeper, and when she retired from that and came to live in that boarding-house where we live now, she was forced to bring me with her and to keep me. Why had she to do that, young man?ā€

ā€œHeaven knows!ā€ answered Spargo.

ā€œBecause Iā€™ve got a hold on her, young manā€”Iā€™ve got a secret of hers,ā€ continued Mother Gutch. ā€œSheā€™d be scared to death if she knew Iā€™d been behind that hedge and had heard what she said to you, and sheā€™d be more than scared if she knew that you and I were here, talking. But sheā€™s grown hard and near with me, and she wonā€™t give me a penny to get a drop of anything with, and an old woman like me has a right to her little comforts, and if youā€™ll buy the secret, young man, Iā€™ll split on her, there and then, when you pay the money.ā€

ā€œBefore I talk about buying any secret,ā€ said Spargo, ā€œyouā€™ll have to prove to me that youā€™ve a secret to sell thatā€™s worth my buying.ā€

ā€œAnd I will prove it!ā€ said Mother Gutch with sudden fierceness. ā€œTouch the bell, and let me have another glass, and then Iā€™ll tell you. Now,ā€ she went on, more quietlyā€”Spargo noticed that the more she drank, the more rational she became, and that her nerves seemed to gain strength and her whole appearance to be improvedā€”ā€œnow, you came to her to find out about

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