heard a man by the name of Bloxam say four nights ago in the 'Are
an' 'Ounds, in Pincher's Alley, as 'ow he an' his mate 'ad 'ad a
rare dusty job in a old 'ouse at Purfleet. There ain't a many such
jobs as this 'ere, an' I'm thinkin' that maybe Sam Bloxam could
tell ye summut."
I asked if he could tell me where to find him. I told him that
if he could get me the address it would be worth another half
sovereign to him. So he gulped down the rest of his tea and stood
up, saying that he was going to begin the search then and
there.
At the door he stopped, and said, "Look 'ere, guv'nor, there
ain't no sense in me a keepin' you 'ere. I may find Sam soon, or I
mayn't, but anyhow he ain't like to be in a way to tell ye much
tonight. Sam is a rare one when he starts on the booze. If you can
give me a envelope with a stamp on it, and put yer address on it,
I'll find out where Sam is to be found and post it ye tonight. But
ye'd better be up arter 'im soon in the mornin', never mind the
booze the night afore."
This was all practical, so one of the children went off with a
penny to buy an envelope and a sheet of paper, and to keep the
change. When she came back, I addressed the envelope and stamped
it, and when Smollet had again faithfully promised to post the
address when found, I took my way to home. We're on the track
anyhow. I am tired tonight, and I want to sleep. Mina is fast
asleep, and looks a little too pale. Her eyes look as though she
had been crying. Poor dear, I've no doubt it frets her to be kept
in the dark, and it may make her doubly anxious about me and the
others. But it is best as it is. It is better to be disappointed
and worried in such a way now than to have her nerve broken. The
doctors were quite right to insist on her being kept out of this
dreadful business. I must be firm, for on me this particular burden
of silence must rest. I shall not ever enter on the subject with
her under any circumstances. Indeed, It may not be a hard task,
after all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, andafter all, for she herself has become reticent on the subject, and
has not spoken of the Count or his doings ever since we told her of
our decision.
2 October, evening—A long and trying and exciting day. By the
first post I got my directed envelope with a dirty scrap of paper
enclosed, on which was written with a carpenter's pencil in a
sprawling hand, "Sam Bloxam, Korkrans, 4 Poters Cort, Bartel
Street, Walworth. Arsk for the depite."
I got the letter in bed, and rose without waking Mina. She
looked heavy and sleepy and pale, and far from well. I determined
not to wake her, but that when I should return from this new
search, I would arrange for her going back to Exeter. I think she
would be happier in our own home, with her daily tasks to interest
her, than in being here amongst us and in ignorance. I only saw Dr.
Seward for a moment, and told him where I was off to, promising to
come back and tell the rest so soon as I should have found out
anything. I drove to Walworth and found, with some difficulty,
Potter's Court. Mr. Smollet's spelling misled me, as I asked for
Poter's Court instead of Potter's Court. However, when I had found
the court, I had no difficulty in discovering Corcoran's lodging
house.
When I asked the man who came to the door for the "depite," he
shook his head, and said, "I dunno 'im. There ain't no such a
person 'ere. I never 'eard of 'im in all my bloomin' days. Don't
believe there ain't nobody of that kind livin' 'ere or
anywheres."
I took out Smollet's letter, and as I read it it seemed to me
that the lesson of the spelling of the name of the court might
guide me. "What are you?" I asked.
"I'm the depity," he answered.
I saw at once that I was on the right track. Phonetic spelling
had again misled me. A half crown tip put the deputy's knowledge at
my disposal, and I learned that Mr. Bloxam, who had slept off the
remains of his beer on the previous night at Corcoran's, had left
for his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could notfor his work at Poplar at five o'clock that morning. He could not
tell me where the place of work was situated, but he had a vague
idea that it was some kind of a "new-fangled ware'us," and with
this slender clue I had to start for Poplar. It was twelve o'clock
before I got any satisfactory hint of such a building, and this I
got at a coffee shop, where some workmen were having their dinner.
One of them suggested that there was being erected at Cross Angel
Street a new "cold storage" building, and as this suited the
condition of a "new-fangled ware'us," I at once drove to it. An
interview with a surly gatekeeper and a surlier foreman, both of
whom were appeased with the coin of the realm, put me on the track
of Bloxam. He was sent for on my suggestion that I was willing to
pay his days wages to his foreman for the privilege of asking him a
few questions on a private matter. He was a smart enough fellow,
though rough of speech and bearing. When I had promised to pay for
his information and given him an earnest, he told me that he had
made two journeys between Carfax and a house in Piccadilly, and had
taken from this house to the latter nine great boxes, "main heavy
ones," with a horse and cart hired by him for this purpose.
I asked him if he could tell me the number of the house in
Piccadilly, to which he replied, "Well, guv'nor, I forgits the
number, but it was only a few door from a big white church, or
somethink of the kind, not long built. It was a dusty old 'ouse,
too, though nothin' to the dustiness of the 'ouse we tooked the
bloomin' boxes from."
"How did you get in if both houses were empty?"
"There was the old party what engaged me a waitin' in the 'ouse
at Purfleet. He 'elped me to lift the boxes and put them in the
dray. Curse me, but he was the strongest chap I ever struck, an'
him a old feller, with a white moustache, one that thin you would
think he couldn't throw a shadder."
How this phrase thrilled through me!
"Why, 'e took up 'is end o' the boxes like they was pounds of