`I think I can give a guess at what it means, sir,' said the Sergeant.
`If you will reflect, you will see that the man must have had some pretty strict instructions from the Indians.They were far too noticeable themselves to risk being seen at the bank, or in the public-house--they were obliged to trust everything to their deputy.Very good.Their deputy hears a certain number named in the public-house, as the number of the room which the sailor is to have for the night--that being also the room (unless our notion is all wrong) which the Diamond is to have for the night, too.Under those circumstance, the Indians, you may rely on it, would insist on having a description of the room--of its position in the house, of its capability of being approached from the outside, and so on.What was the man to do, with such orders as these? Just what he did! He ran upstairs to get a look at the room, before the sailor was taken into it.He was found there, making his observations--and he shammed drunk, as the easiest way of getting out of the difficulty.That's how I read the riddle.After he was turned out of the public-house, he probably went with his report to the place where his employers were waiting for him.And his employers, no doubt, sent him back to make sure that the sailor was really settled at the public-house till the next morning.As for what happened at "The Wheel of Fortune,"after the boy left--we ought to have discovered that last night.It's eleven in the morning, now.We must hope for the best, and find out what we can.'
In a quarter of an hour more, the cab stopped in Shore Lane, and Gooseberry opened the door for us to get out.
`All right?' asked the Sergeant.
`All right,' answered the boy.
The moment we entered `The Wheel of Fortune' it was plain even to my inexperienced eyes that there was something wrong in the house.
The only person behind the counter at which the liquors were served, was a bewildered servant girl, perfectly ignorant of the business.One or two customers, waiting for their morning drink, were tapping impatiently on the counter with their money.The barmaid appeared from the inner regions of the parlour, excited and preoccupied.She answered Sergeant Cuff's inquiry for the landlord, by telling him sharply that her master was upstairs, and was not to be bothered by anybody.
`Come along with me, sir,' said Sergeant Cuff, coolly leading the way upstairs, and beckoning to the boy to follow him.
The barmaid called to her master, and warned him that strangers were intruding themselves into the house.On the first floor we were encountered by the landlord, hurrying down, in a highly irritated state, to see what was the matter.
`Who the devil are you? and what do you want here?' he asked.
`Keep your temper,' said the Sergeant quietly.`I'll tell you who Iam to begin with.I am Sergeant Cuff.'
The illustrious name instantly produced its effect.The angry landlord threw open the door of a sitting-room, and asked the Sergeant's pardon.
`I am annoyed and out of sort, sir--that's the truth,' he said.`Something unpleasant has happened in the house this morning.A man in my way of business has a deal to upset his temper, Sergeant Cuff.'
`Not a doubt of it,' said the Sergeant.`I'll come at once, if you will allow me, to what brings us here.This gentleman and I want to trouble you with a few inquiries, on a matter of some interest to both of us.'
`Relating to what, sir?' asked the landlord.
`Relating to a dark man, dressed like a sailor, who slept here last night.'
`Good God! that's the man who is upsetting the whole house at this moment!'
exclaimed the landlord.`Do you, or does this gentleman know anything about him?'
`We can't be certain till we see him,' answered the Sergeant.
`See him?' echoed the landlord.`That's the one thing that nobody has been able to do since seven o'clock this morning.That was the time when he left word, last night, that he was to be called.He was called--and there was no getting an answer from him, and no opening his door to see what was the matter.They tried again at eight, and they tried again at nine.No use! There was the door still locked--and not a sound to be heard in the room! I have been out this morning--and I only got back a quarter of an hour ago.I have hammered at the door myself--and all to no purpose.
The potboy has gone to fetch a carpenter.If you can wait a few minutes, gentlemen, we will have the door opened, and see what it means.'
`Was the man drunk last night?' asked Sergeant Cuff.
`Perfectly sober, sir--or I would never have let him sleep in my house.'
`Did he pay for his bed beforehand?'
`No.'
`Could he leave the room in any way, without going out by the door?'
`The room is a garret,' said the landlord.`But there's a trap-door in the ceiling, leading out on to the roof--and a little lower down the street, there's an empty house under repair.Do you think, Sergeant, the blackguard has got off in that way, without paying?'
`A sailor,' said Sergeant Cuff, `might have done it--early in the morning, before the street was astir.He would be used to climbing, and his head wouldn't fail him on the roofs of the houses.'
As he spoke, the arrival of the carpenter was announced.We all went upstairs, at once, to the top story.I noticed that the Sergeant was unusually grave, even for him.It also struck me as odd that he told the boy (after having previously encouraged him to follow us), to wait in the room below till we came down again.
The carpenter's hammer and chisel disposed of the resistance of the door in a few minutes.But some article of furniture had been placed again it inside, as a barricade.By pushing at the door, we thrust this obstacle aside, and so got admission to the room.The landlord entered first; the Sergeant second; and I third.The other persons present followed us.
We all looked towards the bed, and all started.
The man had not left the room.He lay, dressed, on the bed--with a white pillow over his face, which completely hid it from view.
`What does that mean?' said the landlord, pointing to the pillow.
