CHAPTER LVI.
THE MEAGER FAMILY.
On the day after the committal a lady, who had got out of a cab atthe corner of Northumberland Street, in the Marylebone Road, walkedup that very uninviting street, and knocked at a door just oppositeto the deadest part of the dead wall of the Marylebone Workhouse.Here lived Mrs. and Miss Meager,--and also on occasions Mr. Meager,who, however, was simply a trouble and annoyance in the world,going about to race-courses, and occasionally, perhaps, to worseplaces, and being of no slightest use to the two poor hard-workedwomen,--mother and daughter,--who endeavoured to get their living byletting lodgings. The task was difficult, for it is not everybody wholikes to look out upon the dead wall of a workhouse, and they whodo are disposed to think that their willingness that way should beconsidered in the rent. But Mr. Emilius, when the cruelty of hiswife's friends deprived him of the short-lived luxury of his mansionin Lowndes Square, had found in Northumberland Street a congenialretreat, and had for a while trusted to Mrs. and Miss Meager forall his domestic comforts. Mr. Emilius was always a favourite withnew friends, and had not as yet had his Northumberland Street glossrubbed altogether off him when Mr. Bonteen was murdered. As ithappened, on that night,--or rather early in the day, for Meagerhad returned to the bosom of his family after a somewhat prolongedabsence in the provinces, and therefore the date had become speciallyremarkable in the Meager family from the double event,--Mr. Meagerhad declared that unless his wife could supply him with a five-poundnote he must cut his throat instantly. His wife and daughter hadregretted the necessity, but had declared the alternative to be outof the question. Whereupon Mr. Meager had endeavoured to force thelock of an old bureau with a carving-knife, and there had been someslight personal encounter,--after which he had had some gin and hadgone to bed. Mrs. Meager remembered the day very well indeed, andMiss Meager, when the police came the next morning, had accountedfor her black eye by a tragical account of a fall she had hadagainst the bed-post in the dark. Up to that period Mr. Emilius hadbeen everything that was sweet and good,--an excellent, eloquentclergyman, who was being ill-treated by his wife's wealthy relations,who was soft in his manners and civil in his words, and never gavemore trouble than was necessary. The period, too, would have beenone of comparative prosperity to the Meager ladies,--but for thatinopportune return of the head of the family,--as two other lodgershad been inclined to look out upon the dead wall, or else into thecheerful back-yard; which circumstance came to have some bearingupon our story, as Mrs. Meager had been driven by the press of herincreased household to let that good-natured Mr. Emilius know thatif "he didn't mind it" the latch-key might be an accommodation onoccasions. To give him his due, indeed, he had, when first taking therooms, offered to give up the key when not intending to be out atnight.
After the murder Mr. Emilius had been arrested, and had been kept indurance for a week. Miss Meager had been sure that he was innocent;Mrs. Meager had trusted the policemen, who evidently thought thatthe clergyman was guilty. Of the policemen who were concerned on theoccasion, it may be said in a general way that they believed thatboth the gentlemen had committed the murder,--so anxious were theynot to be foiled in the attempts at discovery which their duty calledupon them to make. Mr. Meager had left the house on the morning ofthe arrest, having arranged that little matter of the five-poundnote by a compromise. When the policeman came for Mr. Emilius, Mr.Meager was gone. For a day or two the lodger's rooms were kept vacantfor the clergyman till Mrs. Meager became quite convinced that hehad committed the murder, and then all his things were packed upand placed in the passage. When he was liberated he returned to thehouse, and expressed unbounded anger at what had been done. He tookhis two boxes away in a cab, and was seen no more by the ladies ofNorthumberland Street.
But a further gleam of prosperity fell upon them in consequence ofthe tragedy which had been so interesting to them. Hitherto theinquiries made at their house had had reference solely to the habitsand doings of their lodger during the last few days; but now therecame to them a visitor who made a more extended investigation; andthis was one of their own sex. It was Madame Goesler who got outof the cab at the workhouse corner, and walked from thence to Mrs.Meager's house. This was her third appearance in NorthumberlandStreet, and at each coming she had spoken kind words, and had leftbehind her liberal recompense for the trouble which she gave. Shehad no scruples as to paying for the evidence which she desired toobtain,--no fear of any questions which might afterwards be askedin cross-examination. She dealt out sovereigns--womanfully, and hadhad Mrs. and Miss Meager at her feet. Before the second visit wascompleted they were both certain that the Bohemian converted Jew hadmurdered Mr. Bonteen, and were quite willing to assist in hanginghim.
"Yes, Ma'am," said Mrs. Meager, "he did take the key with him. Ameliaremembers we were a key short at the time he was away." The absencehere alluded to was that occasioned by the journey which Mr. Emiliustook to Prague, when he heard that evidence of his former marriagewas being sought against him in his own country.
"That he did," said Amelia, "because we were put out ever so. And hehad no business, for he was not paying for the room."
"You have only one key."
"There is three, Ma'am. The front attic has one regular because he'son a daily paper, and of course he doesn't get to bed till morning.Meager always takes another, and we can't get it from him ever so."
"And Mr. Emilius took the other away with him?" asked Madame Goesler.
"That he did, Ma'am. When he came back he said it had been in adrawer,--but it wasn't in the drawer. We always knows what's in thedrawers."
"The drawer wasn't left locked, then?"
"Yes, it was, Ma'am, and he took that key--unbeknownst to us," saidMrs. Meager. "But there is other keys that open the drawers. We areobliged in our line to know about the lodgers, Ma'am."
This was certainly no time for Madame Goesler to expressdisapprobation of the practices which were thus divulged. She smiled,and nodded her head, and was quite sympathetic with Mrs. Meager. Shehad learned that Mr. Emilius had taken the latch-key with him toBohemia, and was convinced that a dozen other latch-keys might havebeen made after the pattern without any apparent detection by theLondon police. "And now about the coat, Mrs. Meager."
"Well, Ma'am?"
"Mr. Meager has not been here since?"
"No, Ma'am. Mr. Meager, Ma'am, isn't what he ought to be. I never doown it up, only when I'm driven. He hasn't been home."
"I suppose he still has the coat."
"Well, Ma'am, no. We sent a young man after him, as you said, and theyoung man found him at the Newmarket Spring."
"Some water cure?" asked Madame Goesler.
"No, Ma'am. It ain't a water cure, but the races. He hadn't got thecoat. He does always manage a tidy great coat when November is comingon, because it covers everything, and is respectable, but he mostlyparts with it in April. He gets short, and then he--just pawns it."
"But he had it the night of the murder?"
"Yes, Ma'am, he had. Amelia and I remembered it especial. When wewent to bed, which we did soon after ten, it was left in this room,lying there on the sofa." They were now sitting in the little backparlour, in which Mrs. and Miss Meager were accustomed to live.
"And it was there in the morning?"
"Father had it on when he went out," said Amelia.
"If we paid him he would get it out of the pawnshop, and bring it tous, would he not?" asked the lady.
To this Mrs. Meager suggested that it was quite on the cards that Mr.Meager might have been able to do better with his coat by selling it,and if so, it certainly would have been sold, as no prudent idea ofredeeming his garment for the next winter's wear would ever enter hismind. And Mrs. Meager seemed to think that such a sale would not havetaken place between her husband and any old friend. "He wouldn't knowwhere he sold it," said Mrs. Meager.
"Anyways he'd tell us so," said Amelia.
"But if we paid him to be more accurate?" said Madame Goesler.
&
nbsp; "They is so afraid of being took up themselves," said Mrs. Meager.There was, however, ample evidence that Mr. Meager had possessed agrey great coat, which during the night of the murder had been leftin the little sitting-room, and which they had supposed to have lainthere all night. To this coat Mr. Emilius might have had easy access."But then it was a big man that was seen, and Emilius isn't no ways abig man. Meager's coat would be too long for him, ever so much."
"Nevertheless we must try and get the coat," said Madame Goesler."I'll speak to a friend about it. I suppose we can find your husbandwhen we want him?"
"I don't know, Ma'am. We never can find him; but then we never dowant him,--not now. The police know him at the races, no doubt. Youwon't go and get him into trouble, Ma'am, worse than he is? He'salways been in trouble, but I wouldn't like to be means of making itworse on him than it is."
Madame Goesler, as she again paid the woman for her services, assuredher that she would do no injury to Mr. Meager. All that she wanted ofMr. Meager was his grey coat, and that not with any view that couldbe detrimental either to his honour or to his safety, and she waswilling to pay any reasonable price,--or almost any unreasonableprice,--for the coat. But the coat must be made to be forthcoming ifit were still in existence, and had not been as yet torn to pieces bythe shoddy makers.
"It ain't near come to that yet," said Amelia. "I don't know thatI ever see father more respectable,--that is, in the way of a greatcoat."