Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 727, December 1, 1877Various
History
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 727, December 1, 1877
Various
Periodicals
Of course the public rejoicing was very great, because nobody had
known when the bad notes might come into circulation; but we knew,
some of us, that it was all a sham, that a lot of the paper was still
missing, and that if the right man got hold of it, there would soon be
thousands of forged notes--all fives probably--flying about. It was
pretended that all the paper was got back, or that the Bank people
thought so, on purpose to make the holders of the remainder think that
the hunt was given up; but it was no such thing. Two or three of the
best men in the force were to continue the search, and I had hoped I
should be selected; but I was told I would not do, because I could not
speak any foreign language, and it was thought the men might have to
go abroad after the paper. For all that, when I saw Inspector Maffery
come in with Mr Byrle, I thought, as I just said, that I was to be
chosen. However, I had found out my mistake; and I was thinking over my
instructions, when the door opened again. I did not look up at first,
supposing it was one of our men; but a cough attracting my attention,
I turned round. I saw a slight-built, rather under-sized young fellow,
with something of a foreign cut about him, very good-looking though,
and a most uncommonly piercing eye; and he at once said: 'I am Mr
Byrle's clerk, and have been waiting for him, and he wishes to know
where he is to see you?'
'To see _me_?' I said. 'Why--does he want to see me?'
'I think what Mr Byrle means is, that in case he wants to speak to you,
where shall he find you?' replied the young fellow. 'You see I don't
know much of the business myself; I only know he has engaged you as a
detective.'
'And that's more than you ought to have known,' I said; 'however, Mr
Byrle knows his own business best. Tell him that of course he can
always hear of me under the name agreed upon, at the _Yarmouth Smack_,
where I shall lodge.'
'Under what name, did you say?' asks the clerk.
'I didn't say any name, and I don't mean to say any name,' was my
answer. 'If Mr Byrle wants any more information, he had better write.'
'Oh, very well,' says he, quite short and sharp, for I supposed he did
not like my manner, and away he goes.
I sat and thought, or tried to think, but I could not get on so well
as before; the visit of that young fellow had unaccountably upset
me, and I could not settle down again. Then in came first one, then
another, then two or three of our men, and so I got up and went out. I
had hardly turned the corner, when I met Inspector Maffery, and it was
pretty easy to see by his rosy cheeks and unsteady eye what _he_ had
been up to.
'Off for a meditative stroll, I suppose, Mr Nickham?' he says. 'You are
the boy for my money.'
'I'm glad to hear it, Inspector,' I said. 'But I don't think much of Mr
Byrle's clerk, nor of Mr Byrle himself for his judgment in sending him
to me.'
'Mr Byrle's clerk!' he says; and then repeats it: 'Mr Byrle's clerk!'
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