CHAPTER VI. A BIT OF CALICO
It was about this time that I took up my residence in a sort oflodging-house that occupied the opposite corner to that of Mr. Blake.My room, as I took pains to have it, overlooked the avenue, and fromits windows I could easily watch the goings and comings of the gentlemanwhose movements were daily becoming of more and more interest to me.For set it down to caprice--and men are often as capricious as women--oraccount for it as you will, his restlessness at this period was trulyremarkable. Not a day that he did not spend his time in walking thestreets, and that not in his usual aimless gentlemanly fashion, buteagerly and with an intent gaze that roamed here and there, like a birdseeking its prey. It would often be as late as five o'clock before hecame in, and if, as now frequently happened, he did not have company todinner, he was even known to start out again after seven o'clock and goover the same ground as in the morning, looking with strained gaze, thatvainly endeavored to appear unconcerned, into the faces of the womenthat he passed. I not unfrequently followed him at these times as muchfor my own amusement as from any hope I had of coming upon anything thatshould aid me in the work before me. But when he suddenly changed hisroute of travel from a promenade in the fashionable thoroughfares ofBroadway and Fourteenth Street to a walk through Chatham Square and thedark, narrow streets of the East side, I began to scent whom the preymight be that he was seeking, and putting every other considerationaside, regularly set myself to dog his steps, as only I, with myinnumerable disguises, knew how to do. For three separate days I kept athis heels wherever he went, each day growing more and more astonishedif not to say hopeful, as I found myself treading the narrowest and mostdisreputable streets of the city; halting at the shops of pawnbrokers;peering into the back-rooms of liquor shops; mixing with the crowds thatinfest the corner groceries at nightfall, and even slinking with hand onthe trigger of the pistol I carried in my pocket, up dark alleys whereevery door that swung noiselessly to and fro as we passed, shut uponhaunts of such villainy as only is known to us of the police, or tothose good souls that for the sake of One whose example they follow, layaside their fears and sensitiveness to carry light into the dim pits ofthis wretched world. At first I thought Mr. Blake might have some suchreason for the peculiar course he took. But his indifference to allcrowds where only men were collected, his silence where a word wouldhave been well received, convinced me it was a woman he was seeking andthat with an intentness which blinded him to the commonest needs of thehour. I even saw him once in his hurry and abstraction, step across thebody of a child who had fallen face downward on the stones, and thatwith an expression showing he was utterly unconscious of anything but anobstacle in his path. The strangest part of it all was that he seemed tohave no fear. To be sure he took pains to leave his watch at home; butwith such a figure and carriage as he possessed, the absence of jewelrycould never deceive the eye for a moment as to the fact of his beinga man of wealth, and those he went among would do anything for money.Perhaps, like me, he carried a pistol. At all events he shunned no spotwhere either poverty lay hid or deviltry reigned, his proud stern headbending to enter the lowest doors without a tremble of the haughty lipsthat remained compressed as by an iron force; except when some poorforlorn creature with flaunting head-gear, and tremulous hands,attracted by his bearing would hastily brush against him, when he wouldturn and look, perhaps speak, though what he said I always failed tocatch; after which he would hurry on as if possessed by seven devils.The evenings of those three days were notable also. Two of them hespent in the manner I have described; the third he went to the WindsorHouse--where the Countess De Mirac had taken rooms--going up to theladies' entrance and actually ringing the bell, only to start back andwalk up and down on the opposite side of the way, with his hands behindhis back, and his head bent, evidently deliberating as to whether heshould or should not carry out his original intention of entering. Thearrival of a carriage with the stately subject of his deliberations,who from her elaborate costume had seemingly been to some kettledrum orprivate reception, speedily put an end to his doubts. As the door openedto admit her, I saw him cast one look at her heavily draped person, withits snowy opera-cloak drawn tightly over the sweeping folds of her maizecolored silk, and shrink back with what sounded like a sigh of anger ordistrust, and without waiting for the closing of the door upon her, turntoward home with a step that hesitated no longer.
The fourth day to my infinite chagrin, I was sick and could not go withhim. All I could do was to wrap myself in blankets and sit in my windowfrom which I had the satisfaction of viewing him start as I supposedupon his usual course. The rest of the day was employed in a long,dull waiting for his return, only relieved by casual glimpses of Mrs.Daniels' troubled face as she appeared at one window or another ofthe old-fashioned mansion before me. She seemed, too, to be unusuallyrestless, opening the windows and looking out with forlorn cranings ofher neck as if she too were watching for her master. Indeed I haveno doubt from what I afterwards learned, that she was in a state ofconstant suspense during these days. Her frequent appearance at thestation house, where she in vain sought for some news of the girl inwhose fate she was so absorbed, confirmed this. Only the day before Igave myself up to my unreserved espionage of Mr. Blake, she had had aninterview with Mr. Gryce in which she had let fall her apprehensionsthat the girl was dead, and asked whether if that were the case, thepolice would be likely to come into a knowledge of the fact. Upon beingassured that if she had not been privately made way with, there wasevery chance in their favor, she had grown a little calmer, but beforegoing away had so far forgotten herself as to intimate that if someresult was not reached before another fortnight had elapsed, she shouldtake the matter into her own hands and--She did not say what she woulddo, but her looks were of a very menacing character. It was no wonder,then, that her countenance bore marks of the keenest anxiety as shetrod the halls of that dim old mansion, with its dusky corners richwith bronzes and the glimmering shine of ancient brocades, breathingsuggestions of loss and wrong; or bent her wrinkled forehead to gazefrom the windows for the coming of one whose footsteps were everdelayed. She happened to be looking out, when after a longer stroll thanusual the master of the house returned. As he made his appearance at thecorner, I saw her hurriedly withdraw her head and hide herself behindthe curtain, from which position she watched him as with tired steps andsomewhat dejected mien, he passed up the steps and entered the house.Not till the door closed upon him, did she venture to issue forth andwith a hurried movement shut the blinds and disappear. This anxiety onher part redoubled mine, and thankful enough was I when on the next dayI found myself well enough to renew my operations. To ferret out thismystery, if mystery it was,--I still found myself forced to admit thepossibility of there being none--had now become the one ambition of mylife; and all because it was not only an unusually blind one, but of anature that involved danger to my position as detective, I entered uponit with a zest rare even to me who love my work and all it involves withan undivided passion.
To equip myself, then, in a fresh disguise and to join Mr. Blake shortlyafter he had left his own corner, was anything but a hardship to me thatbright winter morning, though I knew from past experience, a long andwearisome walk was before me with nothing in all probability at theend but reiterated disappointment. But for once the fates had willedit otherwise. Whether Mr. Blake, discouraged at the failure of his ownattempts, whatever they were, felt less heart to prosecute them thanusual I cannot say, but we had scarcely entered upon the lower end ofthe Bowery, before he suddenly turned with a look of disgust, andgazing hurriedly about him, hailed a Madison Avenue car that was rapidlyapproaching. I was at that moment on the other side of the way, but Ihurried forward too, and signaled the same car. But just as I was on thepoint of entering it I perceived Mr. Blake step hastily back and withhis eyes upon a girl that was hurrying past him with a basket on herarm, regain the sidewalk with a swiftness that argued his desire to stopher. Of course I let the car pass me, though I did not dare approach himtoo closely
after my late conspicuous attempt to enter it with him. Butfrom my stand on the opposite curb-stone I saw him draw aside the girl,who from her garments might have been the daughter or wife of any oneof the shiftless, drinking wretches lounging about on the four cornerswithin my view, and after talking earnestly with her for a few moments,saunter at her side down Broome Street, still talking. Reckless at thissight of the consequences which might follow his detection of the partI was playing, I hasted after them, when I was suddenly disconcerted byobserving him hurriedly separate from the girl and turn towards me withintention as it were to regain the corner he had left. Weighing in aninstant the probable good to be obtained by following either party,I determined to leave Mr. Blake for one day to himself, and turn myattention to the girl he had addressed, especially as she was tall andthin and bore herself with something like grace.
Barely bestowing a glance upon him, then, as he passed, in a vainattempt to read the sombre expression of his inscrutable face grownfive years older in the last five days, I shuffled after the girl nowflitting before me down Broome Street. As I did so, I noticed her dressto its minutest details, somewhat surprised to find how ragged anduncouth it was. That Mr. Blake should stop a girl wherever seen, cladin a black alpaca frock, a striped shawl and a Bowery hat trimmed withfeathers, I could easily understand; but that this creature with herfaded calico dress, dingy cape thrown carelessly over her head, andragged basket, should arrest his attention, was a riddle to me. Ihastened forward with intent to catch a glimpse of her countenance ifpossible; but she seemed to have acquired wings to her feet since herinterview with Mr. Blake. Darting into a crowd of hooting urchins thatwere rushing from Centre Street after a broken wagon and runaway horse,she sped from my sight with such rapidity, I soon saw that my only hopeof overtaking her lay in running. I accordingly quickened my steps whenthose same hooting youngsters getting in the way of my feet, I trippedup and--well, I own I retired from that field baffled. Not entirely so,however. Just as I was going down, I caught sight of the girl tearingaway from a box of garbage on the curb-stone; and when order havingbeen restored, by which lofty statement I mean to say when your humbleservant had regained his equilibrium, I awoke to the fact that she hadeffectually disappeared, I hurried to that box and succeeded in findinghanging to it a bit of rag easily recognized as a piece of the oldcalico frock of nameless color which I had been following a momentbefore. Regarding it as the sole spoils of a very unsatisfactory day'swork, I put it carefully away in my pocket book, where it lay till--Butwith all my zeal for compression, I must not anticipate.
When I came home that afternoon I found myself unexpectedly involved ina matter that for the remainder of the day at least, prevented me fromfurther attending to the affair I had in hand. The next morning Mr.Blake did not start out as usual, and at noon I received intimationfrom Fanny that he was preparing to take a journey. Where, she couldnot inform me, nor when, though she thought it probable he would take anearly train. Mrs. Daniels was feeling dreadfully, she informed me; andthe house was like a grave. Greatly excited at this unexpected move onMr. Blake's part, I went home and packed my valise with something of thespirit of her who once said, under somewhat different circumstances Iallow, "Whither thou goest I will go."
The truth was, I had travelled so far and learned so little, thatmy professional pride was piqued. That expression of Mr. Gryce stillrankled, and nothing could soothe my injured spirit now but success.Accordingly when Mr. Blake stepped up to the ticket office of the HudsonRiver Railroad next morning, to buy a ticket for Putney, a small townin the northern part of Vermont, he found beside him a spruceyoung drummer, or what certainly appeared such, who by some strangecoincidence, wanted a ticket for the same place. The fact did not seemin the least to surprise him, nor did he cast me a look beyond theordinary glance of one stranger at another. Indeed Mr. Blake had noappearance of being a suspicious man, nor do I think at this time,he had the remotest idea that he was either watched or followed; anignorance of the truth which I took care to preserve by taking my seatin a different car from him and not showing myself again during thewhole ride from New York to Putney.