Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective StoriesHanshew, Thomas W.
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Cleek of Scotland Yard: Detective Stories
Hanshew, Thomas W.
Cleek, Hamilton (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories
"Now, Major, we will get down to brass tacks, as our American cousins
say," said Cleek, when that time at length came. "You would like to
know, I suppose, how poor Farrow came by his injuries and from whose
hand. Well, you shall. He was coming back from his cottage after
stabling the real Chocolate Maid there when the thing happened;
and he received those injuries for rushing to the defence of the
woman he loved, and attempting to thrash the blackguard who had
taken advantage of her trust and belief in him to spoil her life
forever. The woman was, of course, Maggie McFarland. The man was
your charming guest, Captain MacTavish!"
"Good God! MacTavish? MacTavish?"
"Yes, Major--the gallant captain who received such a sudden call to
rejoin his regiment as soon as he knew that Tom Farrow was likely to
recover and to speak. Perhaps you can understand now why Farrow and
the girl no longer seemed to 'hit it off together as formerly.'
The gallant captain had come upon the boards. Dazzled by the beauty
of him, tricked by the glib tongue of him, deluded into the belief
that she had actually 'caught a gentleman' and that he really meant
to make her his wife and take her away to India with him, when he
went, the silly, innocent, confiding little idiot became his victim
and threw over a good man's love for a handful of Dead Sea Fruit."
"Never for one instant had Tom Farrow an idea of this; but the
night before last as he crossed the moor--he knew! In the darkness
he stumbled upon the truth. He heard her crying out to the fellow
to do her justice, to keep his word and make her the honest wife
he had promised that she should be, and he heard, too, the man's
characteristic reply. You can guess what happened, Major, when
you know Tom Farrow. In ten seconds he was up and at that fellow
like a mad bull.
"The girl, terrified out of her life, screamed and ran away, seeing
the brave captain laying about him with his heavy, silver-headed
hunting crop as she fled. She never saw the end of the fight--she
never dared; but in the morning when there was no Tom Farrow to be
seen, she went out there on the moor and found him. She would have
spoken then had she dared, poor creature, but the man's threat was
an effective one. If she spoke he would do likewise. If she kept
silent she might go away and her disgrace be safely hidden. Which
she chose, we know."
"The damned hound!"
"Oh, no, Major, oh, no--that's too hard on hounds. The only houndlike
thing about that interesting gentleman was that he made an attempt
to 'get to cover' and to run away. I knew that he would--I knew that
that was his little dodge when he made that little excuse about
having to pack up his effects. He saw how the game was running
and he meant to slip the cable and clear out while he had the chance."
"And you let him do it?--you never spoke a word, but let the
blackguard do it? Gad, sir, I'm ashamed of you!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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