Читать книгу Ambition's Slave - Fred M. White - Страница 11

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FOR some time after Ericsson had passed under the archway leading to Desborough's chambers the man by the lamp-post stood reading his paper. Kit Clive passed him more than once, and wondered who he might be, and why the sight of him had such a paralyzing effect on Ericsson. The man looked quiet and respectable enough, not at all the kind of man to make a disturbance, but one who when once aroused was likely to see things through.

Then Clive dismissed the fellow from his thoughts. He had plenty of matter to occupy his attention. He was wishing himself back home again; he was beginning to regret that he had taken all this trouble for so worthless an object as Ericsson.

Meanwhile the man under the lamp-post stood quite still, reading the newspaper. He threw it aside presently with a gesture of disgust, and strode forward. As he emerged into the light again he came full upon Ericsson, who was coming in the other direction. He might have passed unheeding, but Ericsson pulled up, and a hoarse cry escaped him. The other man looked up indifferently, then his face changed. An unholy joy blazed up in his eyes.

Ericsson cried again ever so faintly. A policeman strode by without heeding. Eli Price sidled up to Ericsson, and held up his hand. It was like a chance meeting of two friends.

"Well, mate," he said, "who would have thought of meeting you here!" His voice sank to a whisper. "I know what you would like to do, curse you. You would like to call that policeman standing there and tell him that here is Eli Price, the escaped convict. If you open your mouth I'll crush your skull in before you can say two words."

Ericsson shivered. He was too utterly frightened for anything. As a matter of fact the very thing that Price had suggested had feebly flashed through his brain.

"Yonder policeman is your safeguard and mine," Price went on in the same fierce whisper. "So long as our friend in blue stands there waiting for his sergeant I can't kill you in the way you deserve; so long as he stands there you have no cause to fear. So I've found you at last!"

Ericsson shivered and said nothing. Like a hunted animal he was glaring about him for some avenue of escape. Commonplace people passed by, ignorant of the note of tragedy so close to them; a paper boy flitted along, yelling the latest news.

"Why don't you speak?" Price snarled. "Say something. Try to look like a man. When I see you standing there I could kick myself for the fool that I am. However I came to trust such a white, puling, lily-livered coward passes my understanding. But I thought you were clever, I didn't know that you had soddened your brain away. And when you played me false and I found you out you had just cunning enough to put me away. And because you turned coward and saved your own skin I have been lying like a dog yonder, bullied by warders and half starved into the bargain. If the policeman yonder would only move on and give me the chance!"

Price hissed out the last few words. There was murder in his eyes. Ericsson was too frozen with horror for a moment to see that the policeman was moving on at last. He could not see Clive anywhere. And once there was a chance to do so with impunity Price would certainly kill him. The knowledge set the poor wretch trembling like a leaf. A sudden cry came from his lips, and he darted off as hard as his legs could carry him.

He rushed on headlong, blindly. He was fifty yards away before Price could follow him. With a kind of dull instinct he fled into the passage in the direction of Desborough's chambers again. Poor creature as he was, if he could find light and protection he would be dangerous.

"I was a fool to stop him," Price muttered. "I might have followed him. If he gets to the ears of the police I am done."

Price picked up his heels and followed rapidly. Another policeman had heard the cry, and called on him to stop. But there was no time for ceremony. Price disappeared under the dark arch like a shadow, whilst the man of law came most leisurely behind. Price shut his teeth grimly. If that constable proved to be too inquisitive he would have to be silenced; the officer stood a good chance of lying on his back on the stones presently with a concussion of the brain.

There was just a glimpse of Ericsson as he disappeared up a flight of stairs. Price could plainly see the door into which he vanished. But he could not follow for the moment for the simple reason that the blundering policeman was searching about the arch. Price crept close into the shadow, as the light of the lantern flashed here and there. A moment later and a lane of light picked out the features and figure of the man in hiding.

"Come out of that, my lad," a pompous voice said from behind the lantern. "I dare say it's all right, but just you come out and give an account of yourself."

Price moved heavily forward. He had to control his face, but he was inwardly beating with passion. He was doing no wrong, he said; he had merely been having a few words with a friend. And if the policeman wanted to know his name and address—

He broke off suddenly. He made a spring like that of a tiger, and then his fist crashed on the side of the officer's head. It was a smashing and staggering blow, and the man in blue fell with a snore and a grunt upon the pavement, his lantern rolling away as he fell.

"Serve you right, you meddlesome hound," Price growled. "You won't worry about anything for a bit. But it was a pretty near shave."

He hastened up the steps, forgetting all about the policeman, and everything else besides Ericsson. He must see that man again, at any hazard he must be frightened into silence. Yes, this was the door through which Ericsson had disappeared.

He pushed his way in as coolly as if the place belonged to him. The red mist before his eyes rendered him reckless and blind to everything else. He hardly saw the owner of the room. Desborough started angrily from his desk. It was bad enough that Ericsson should come back in the way he had, but that the person pursuing him should force his way into a private apartment was intolerable. The newcomer was short and powerfully built; he had a strong, determined face, and withal the look of a gentleman.

He was almost beside himself now with passionate eagerness, and for the moment did not seem to see Desborough at all. The latter was half amused in spite of everything. His mood had suddenly changed. He stood before the intruder and barred the way.

"Make yourself quite at home," he said. "If there is anything that you desire."

Price looked stupidly at the speaker. His glaring eyes seemed to come back from somewhere a long way off.

"Where am I?" he asked hoarsely. "Where has he gone to? He came back here, I swear. As soon as he saw me he gave a cry and doubled back. At first I couldn't believe my luck. But I was after him quick enough, and he came in here. Where is he?"

"Perhaps I could tell better if I knew who you were looking for?"

"I'm looking for Ericsson. He came back here, I swear. If I could only hold him by the throat, if I could only choke the life out of him! Where has he got to?"

Price's glance travelled over Desborough's shoulders to the door beyond. He muttered something like an oath. He crossed to the door, passed to the room beyond, then he came back again. There was something in this cool proceeding that irritated whilst it amused Desborough.

"I suppose you are quite satisfied," he said. "If there is any other information you require I shall be very glad to give it to you."

He spoke with a cynical tone that was quite lost on Price. The latter was still breathing heavily, as if he had not yet recovered from the effects of his chase.

"He's got away," Price said. "There was a back door. What's the matter?"

Desborough fairly gasped. Cold and self-contained as he generally was, he thrilled now, he had made a discovery that thrilled him to the core.

"I know you," he said. "You were convicted at last Hardcastle Assizes and sentenced to seven years. You came very near to proving one of the most ingenious alibis ever tendered in a court of justice. I am a barrister, and I was present at the assizes. Under ordinary circumstances you should be in gaol now. Let me see—what is your name?"

"I don't mind telling you," the other said with a hard laugh, "seeing that you know so much. My name is Eli Price. And much good may the information do you."

Desborough made no retort. This was the missing witness in the great Certified Company, under his own roof, the man whose extraordinary escape had given him an unexpected and blessed reprieve at the hands of Graham Minter. As a barrister or a future Cabinet Minister his duty was plain before him. He ought to have instantly called in the police and handed his visitor over to justice. But he did nothing of the kind, he sat at his desk thoughtfully turning over the situation. So long as Price was free he was fairly safe. Price back in strong hands again and he was in peril. He looked up suddenly, and Price smiled.

"I see nothing to be amused at," he said. "If I do my duty—"

"But you are not going to do your duty," Price snarled. "I can read a face as well as most people. Yours is a cold and hard face, but you are not going to give me up. For some reason or another, you are going to keep your knowledge to yourself, to make use of me. Not that I care so long as you keep your tongue between your teeth."