CHAPTER VII
IN WHICH MR. SCARSDALE REAPS ANOTHER'S WHIRLWIND
Scarsdale was absolutely staggered by the word "arrest." Arrest! Whatnonsense! Who was this man who talked of arresting _him_, HaroldScarsdale, peaceably engaged in trying to find his wife and proceed onhis honeymoon? The first sensations of surprise and incredulity werequickly followed, however, by a realisation of the horrible situation inwhich his own stupidity had placed him. In the eyes of the law he wasnot Harold Scarsdale, but Richard Allingford, and he shuddered to thinkwith what crime he might be charged; for, from what he had learned inthe last half-hour, he could not doubt that he was posing as one of themost abandoned characters that had ever visited the town of Winchester.
A person who consorted with horse-thieves, cheated at cards, and thoughtnothing of shooting friends who were not thirsty, would surely besatisfied with no ordinary crime. Of what was he accused? He hardlydared to ask. And how was he to get out of this dreadful dilemma? Hisreflections, however, were cut short by the arrival of a burlypoliceman, in answer to his captor's whistle. The little man at onceaddressed the newcomer, quite ignoring Scarsdale.
"Here's your man Allingford; not a doubt of it," he said.
"Got your warrant?" inquired the policeman, laying a detaining hand onthe prisoner's shoulder.
"Here it is," replied the first speaker, producing a paper, which theofficer glanced at and returned, saying at the same time to Scarsdale:
"Now, then, come along o' me, and don't make no resistance if you knowswhat's good for you."
"I do not intend to offer any resistance," replied that gentleman, andturning to the little man he asked: "By what right do you arrest me, andon what charge?"
"I'm Private Detective Smithers," replied his captor, "and this," againproducing the paper he had already shown to the policeman, "is mywarrant. You know the charge well enough."
"I'm entirely ignorant of it!" cried Scarsdale hotly.
"Of course," said the detective. "They always are," and he winked at theofficer.
"I tell you I don't know anything about it!" reiterated the unfortunatebridegroom.
"I must caution you," remarked the policeman, "that anything you saysmay be used against you as evidence."
"I demand to know why I am arrested. I have a right to do so."
"Tell him, Bill," said the detective, "and stop his row."
The officer, thus admonished, nodded his head, and replied shortly:
"Two charges: 'sault and battery on the landlord of the Lion's Head, anddisturbing the peace on last Wednesday night."
"I deny the charge!" cried Scarsdale.
"Of course you do," replied the policeman; "I suppose you would. Nowyou've had your say, are you coming along peaceable, or are you not?"
"Certainly I am," replied the prisoner, and they started up the street,followed by a small crowd, which had already collected.
"I must warn you," continued Scarsdale, when they were fairly under way,"that you are making a mistake. I am not the man you take me for."
"I suppose you'll deny your name is Richard Allingford next," said thedetective, laughing.
"I do deny it."
"Well I'm blessed!" remarked his captor.
The policeman simply said: "Come on, that's too thin!" and jerked himroughly by the arm.
Scarsdale quickened his pace, saying angrily:
"If you'd only give a man a chance to explain!"
"You'll have chance enough, when you come up to-morrow, to explain tothe court," replied the officer, "and a pretty bill of damages into thebargain."
"Oh, if it's only a fine," remarked the prisoner, feeling much relieved,"I'll pay it and welcome, rather than have a row."
"Maybe you won't have the option," replied one of his captors; while theother added cheerfully: "What you needs is thirty days, and I 'opesyou'll get it."
At the police court Scarsdale did not help his case by insisting ongiving his right name, and denying all knowledge of the charge. Hisstatements were entered against him, he was relieved of his watch,purse, and jewellery, and introduced to the cold comforts of thelock-up.
On being asked if he wished to communicate with any one, he replied thatthe next morning would be quite time enough; for he knew that Mrs.Allingford could give him little help in his present predicament, andhe did not wish to disturb her night's rest to no purpose.
It can be well imagined that the accommodations of an English provincialprison are not luxurious; but the room was clean, and fortune favouredhim in that he had only two companions, both of whom were stupid drunk,and went to sleep very peaceably on the floor.
Scarsdale improvised a bed on a settee, and, using his coat as a pillow,passed a fairly comfortable night. Luckily he was of a somewhatphlegmatic temperament, and withal very tired after the day's exertions;so, in spite of the misfortunes which were crowding about him, he wasable to resign himself to the inevitable, and eventually to drop off tosleep.
Early next morning, however, he arranged to have a note delivered toMrs. Allingford at the hotel, in which he informed that lady of hisunfortunate predicament, begging her not to distress herself on hisaccount; and assuring her that in all probability it was merely amatter of a trifling fine, and that he should be at liberty to rejoinher within a few hours.
He felt very little of what he wrote; but as long as there was a chanceof things coming out right, he wished to spare her all possible worry.
His ready money procured him a better breakfast than he could have hopedfor, and by nine o'clock, when the court opened, he was refreshed andready for whatever might befall. His two companions in misfortunepreceded him for trial, but their cases were soon disposed of, andHarold Scarsdale, _alias_ Richard Allingford, was put into the dock.
The court-room consisted of a plainly furnished apartment, containing araised platform at one end, on which were placed the desk and armchairof the police magistrate, while in front were several rows of benchesfor the accommodation of the public: but as the cases were of no generalinterest, Scarsdale was relieved to see that the attendance was meagre.Mrs. Allingford was present, however, looking very white and distressed,but managing to muster up a smile to greet him as he entered.
The proceedings were short and to the point. The police constable, onbeing called and given the oath, kissed the book and deposed that atabout a quarter to nine on the previous evening, while on his accustomedbeat, he had been summoned by Private Detective Smithers to aid inarresting the prisoner, who had professed ignorance of the charge, thetruth of which he afterwards denied, and who persisted in asserting thathe was not Richard Allingford.
Private Detective Smithers now took the stand and stated the case fromhis point of view; which was, in short, that the conversation he hadoverheard at the hotel between the prisoner and another person herepresent, and the statement which the prisoner made to him personally,proved that he was without doubt the Richard Allingford mentioned in theindictment. In conclusion he begged that the person styling himself FaroCharlie should be summoned to corroborate his testimony. Faro Charliewas accordingly called and placed in the dock, and after the usualpreliminaries the magistrate examined him as follows:
"What is your name?"
"Faro Charlie."
"Any other name?"
"Smith."
"Very well, Charles Smith; are you a citizen of the United States?"
"I be."
"Of what occupation?"
"Miner."
"Do you recognise the prisoner as the person whom you met at the Georgelast evening?"
"I do."
"Can you swear that he is Richard Allingford?"
"No."
Scarsdale's heart leaped at that "no"; salvation was at hand after all.
The magistrate continued:
"Do you believe this person to be Richard Allingford?"
"Yes, on the whole I think I do." The prisoner's heart sank. "But,"continued the witness, "I can't be sure. Fifteen years is a long time. Iw
ouldn't have known him if he hadn't owned up to his name. He might beplaying me for a sucker."
"In other words, you think the prisoner to be Richard Allingford, butare unwilling to swear to his identity?"
"That's the stuff," replied Faro Charlie. "I swored as a man was myuncle, three years ago at 'Frisco, and he put a bullet into me next day,'cause I lost him the case. After which I ain't swearing against a pal,"and he left the stand.
The case now proceeded, and the detective related how on Wednesday, the16th of October, the prisoner, Richard Allingford, in company with otherlawless characters, had dined at the Lion's Head, and, during a disputewith the landlord concerning the quality of the wine, had thrown thatpersonage out of his own second-storey window; telling his wife, whoprotested against such actions, to put her husband in the bill, whichthey left without settling. Then they proceeded to paint the town ofWinchester a lurid crimson, breaking windows, beating a policeman whointerfered, and raiding a night coffee-stall in the process.
This recital of wrong and outrage being finished, the magistrateaddressed the prisoner as follows:
"What is your name?"
"Harold Stanley Malcolm St. Hubart Scarsdale."
Some one in the audience murmured, "O Lor'!"
"You refuse to admit that your name is Richard Allingford?" continuedthe justice.
"I have just given you my name."
"Are you an American?"
"No, I am an Englishman."
"Where do you live?"
"'The Towers,' Sussex."
The audience again voiced its sentiments; this time to the effect thatthe prisoner was "a 'owling swell"; but order was restored and the caseonce more proceeded.
"What is your profession?"
"I am a clerk in the War Office."
"Does not that interfere with the management of your estate?" asked hisinterlocutor, to whom the last two statements savoured of contradiction.
"I have just succeeded to the estate, through the death of an elderbrother."
"Ah, I see. Now in regard to last evening. Do you admit meeting at theGeorge the person who calls himself Charles Smith?"
"Yes."
"Did not you represent yourself to him as being Richard Allingford?"
"Yes."
This reply caused a sensation in the court.
"I suppose," said the magistrate, "that you realise that this is aserious admission."
"It is the truth."
"Perhaps you can explain it to the satisfaction of the court."
"I assumed the name," said Scarsdale with an effort, "to screen frompossible annoyance a lady who was under my protection. With thepermission of the court, however, I should prefer not to go into thismatter further, as it has no direct bearing on the charge. My action wasfoolish, and I have been punished for it."
"You certainly chose an unfortunate alias," commented the magistratedrily, and, much to the prisoner's relief, turned to another phase ofthe case.
"What are you doing in Winchester?"
"I am on my honeymoon. I was married yesterday."
A titter of laughter ran round the court-room; but the magistratefrowned, and continued:
"I suppose that is the reason why you registered under an assumed name,and are travelling with somebody else's wife?"
There was more laughter, for the justice had a local reputation as awit. Scarsdale boiled inwardly, but held his peace; while his judge, whoseemed to feel that he had strayed a little from the subject in hand,after a moment's silence asked shortly:
"Do you plead guilty or not guilty to these charges?"
"Not guilty!"
"Do you wish this matter settled here or in a superior court?"
"I desire that it be settled here, provided I am given an opportunity toprove my identity."
"You will be given every reasonable opportunity. What do you wish?"
"I wish to ask first by whom these charges are preferred."
"The charge of assault and battery has been brought by the landlord ofthe Lion's Head."
"I infer that the landlord served Richard Allingford in person on thenight in question, and would be likely to know him if he saw him."
The magistrate conferred with the detective, and replied that such wasthe case.
"If the question is not out of order," resumed the prisoner, "may I askif the landlord of the Lion's Head is a reputable witness, and one whosetestimony might be relied on?"
"I think you may trust yourself in his hands," replied the justice, whohad seen all along whither the case was tending.
"Then," said Scarsdale, "I shall be satisfied to rest my case on hisidentification."
"That is quite a proper request," replied the magistrate. "Is thelandlord of the Lion's Head present?"
At this a dapper little man jumped up in the audience, and explainedthat he was the landlord's physician, and that his patient, thoughconvalescent, was still disabled by his injuries and unable to attendcourt.
On inquiry being made as to when he could put in an appearance, thephysician replied that he thought the landlord could come the next day.
The magistrate therefore consulted for a moment with the detective, andthen said to the prisoner:
"Your case is remanded for trial until to-morrow."
Scarsdale held up his hand in token that he wished to speak.
"Well," said the magistrate, "what else?"
"If I can, by the time this court meets to-morrow, produce reputablewitnesses from London to prove my identity," asked the prisoner, "willtheir evidence be admitted?"
"If they can identify themselves as such to the satisfaction of thecourt, yes."
The magistrate thereupon dismissed the case, and Scarsdale was removedfrom the court-room.
He felt he had come off singularly well, and, except for the annoyanceand delay would have little further trouble. What he most desired was aninterview with Mrs. Allingford; but what with a change in his quarters,owing to the deferment of the trial, and the difficulty of getting wordto her, it was the middle of the afternoon before this was accomplished.
The unfortunate little woman seemed completely broken down by this freshdisaster, and it was some time before she could control herselfsufficiently to talk calmly with him.
"I shall never, never forgive myself," she sobbed. "It is all my faultthat you have incurred this disgrace. I can never look your wife in theface again."
"Nonsense!" he said, trying to cheer her up. "There is no disgrace inbeing arrested for what somebody else has done; and as for its beingyour fault, why, it was I who proposed to pass myself off as yourhusband's brother."
"But I allowed it, only I did not know anything about my brother-in-law,except that he existed; his being in England is a complete surprise tome." A remark which caused Scarsdale to be thankful that he had saidnothing to her about that scene at the club when the Consul heard ofDick's arrival. "He must be very wicked. I'm so sorry. But we won't talkabout him now; we will talk about you. What can I do to retrievemyself?" she continued.
"Let us consider your own affairs first," he replied. "I wasn't able tosend a telegram to Basingstoke last night; I was arrested on my way tothe office."
"I sent one, though, this morning, right after the trial."
"I didn't know that you knew where to go," he said.
"I didn't," she returned; "but that queer American person, who wouldn'tswear to your identity, sent it for me. He is very odd, but I'm sure hehas a good heart. He was so distressed over the whole affair, andoffered to be of any assistance he could."
"Oh!" said Scarsdale. He was not pre-possessed in Faro Charlie's favour.
"So I think," she went on, "that if they are at Basingstoke, they willbe here in a few hours. I told them all about your arrest and where Iwas staying."
"So far so good. Allingford can identify me even to the satisfaction ofthis magistrate, I think. But it is just as well to have two strings toone's bow, so I have another plan to suggest; but first let me hear ifyou have done
anything else."
"No; but I think I shall telegraph to my mother. I can't spend anothernight here alone."
"Why don't you wait and see if your husband does not turn up? I hate togive our affairs more publicity than is necessary," he suggested.
"Would you prefer me to do so?"
"Yes, very much; if you don't mind."
"Then I will. I think, after my share in this unfortunate business, youought to have the first consideration. Now tell me your plan."
"I propose that we telegraph to your husband's best man, JackCarrington, asking him to come to Winchester this evening. He canidentify me, and identify himself also, for he has a brother who is anofficer in one of the regiments stationed here."
"Just the thing!" she cried. "I'll send it at once."
"No," replied Scarsdale. "You write it and I'll send it." He did notwish any more of his plans to be revealed to Faro Charlie.