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Running the Gauntlet

CHAPTER I. NEWS.
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throughout the length and breadth of this london of ours there were few legal firms, no matter of how old standing, doing a better, larger ready-money business than that of moss and moss of cursitor street, chancery lane. looked down upon? well, one could hardly say that. old mr. trivett, of the firm of trivett, coverdale, and trivett of bedford row, who had the secrets of half the first families in england locked up in his dusty japanned boxes; young mr. markham, who, besides being nominally a solicitor, was a high-bailiff somewhere, and had chambers in the albany, and rode a very maney and taily light chestnut cob in the row; and a few others,--might shrug their shoulders when the names of moss and moss were mentioned; but that did no harm to moss and moss, who, on the whole, were very well respected throughout the profession. at mrs. edward moss's sunday-evening parties in the regent's park were to be met many people whose names were pleasantly familiar to the public. mr. smee, q. c., known as "alibi smee" from his great success in proving that his clients never had been within fifty miles of the spot where the crime with which they were charged was committed; mr. sergeant orson; mr. tocsin, who bullied a witness admirably, but who gave more trouble to edward moss than any other man at the bar, wanting perpetual cramming and suggestions, and having the face of brass and the lungs of steel and the head of wool; mr. replevin, the most rising junior at the o.b.; and others, amongst them. gilks, the marine painter, some of whose choicest bits adorned mrs. moss's walls; kreese, the editor of the great sporting, literary, and theatrical sunday print, the scourge; o'meara of the stock exchange; and actors, actresses, and singers too numerous to mention. these last were invited through mr. marshall moss, edward's brother and junior partner, who was a bachelor, and who, though he gave occasional excellent greenwich and richmond dinners, yet had no house of his own to entertain in. marshall moss attended to the more convivial portion of the clients; the actors who had differed from their managers; the ladies who wanted certain settlements arranged; the sporting publicans who wanted "the screw put upon certain parties;" the fast young gents requiring defence from civil process,--were shown up to marshall's room on the first-floor, a comfortable room with several armchairs, and a cupboard never without sherry and soda-water; a room where some of the best stories in london were from time to time told, and which was fenced off with thick double doors, to prevent the laughter caused by them penetrating to edward's sanctum downstairs.

for edward attended to the real clients of the house--those for whom it was originally established--those by whom its fame had been made. and these were--thieves. yes, there is no blinking the word. if a burglar were "in trouble," if a forger had been apprehended, if some very heavy turf-robbery had come to light, edward moss's busy brain was at work, and edward moss's hours of sleep were ruthlessly curtailed. he did not care about the heaviest kind of business, though two or three murderers unquestionably owed their necks to his skill and forethought; and he refused all petty cases of magsmen, skittle-sharps, and card-swindlers. they would have longed to have him; but they knew it was impossible. he did not like their style of business, and, above all things fatal to a chance of their engaging him, he never did anything on spec. when a man was "in trouble" he knew that it was no use sending for mr. moss without being able to tell him that at such-and-such a tavern or lodging-house he would find a landlord willing and ready to advance the fee for the prisoner's defence. then mr. moss would step into the first hansom outside the station, and hie away to st. luke's, cripplegate, drury lane, or any other locality indicated, and returning with the money in his pocket, would hear all that the prisoner had to say, and straightway--determine on the line of defence. a wonderful little man, edward moss! wonderful to look at! without the smallest sign of colour in his shrunken, baggy, parchmenty face, with small gray eyes under overhanging bristly brows, with a short stubbly head of gray hair, a restless twitching mouth, thin wiry figure, and dirty hands with close-bitten dubby nails. in these respects a very different man from his brother marshall, who was a by-no-means bad-looking hebrew, with a handsome beard and moustache, full scarlet lips, prominent brown eyes, and in face and figure showing a general liking for the flesh-pots and other good things of this life. where edward moss wore dirt, marshall moss sported jewelry, and each brother was sufficiently vain of his display. each knew his business perfectly, and neither interfered with the other. marshall's clients drove up in broughams or rattled in hansoms to the front-door, went up the broad staircase to the first-floor, and either passed straight into the presence, or beguiled the necessary interval in the perusal of the daily papers handed to them by obsequious clerks. edward's clients sneaked in through a narrow door up a side-court; had their names and business wrung from them by the most precocious and most truculent of jew boys; were left to rub their greasy shoulders up and down the whitewashed walls of a ghastly waiting-room until "mithter edward" chose to listen to the recital of their distress and wishes.

occasionally, however, visitors to mr. edward moss came in at the large front-door, and afterwards made the best of their way to his sanctum. they were generally people who would not have been regarded with much favour by the greasy-shouldered clients in the court. this was one of them who entered cursitor street on a warm june afternoon, and made straight for the front-door blazing with the door-plate of "moss and moss." a middle-sized fattish man, ill-dressed in an ill-fitting blue frock-coat and gray trousers, and a very innocent-looking small hat with a black mourning-band; a sodden-faced sleepy-looking man with mild blue eyes and an undecided mouth; a man like a not very prosperous publican; a man, who, with a fresher complexion, and at another time of year, might have been taken for a visitor to the cattle show; who looked, in fact, anything but what he was--chief officer of the city detectives and the terror of all the evil-doers of the east-end. he walked through the hall, and, leaving the staircase leading to mr. marshall moss's rooms on his right, passed to the end of the passage and tapped at a door on which was inscribed the word "private" in large letters. it must have been a peculiar knock which he gave, for the door was immediately opened merely wide enough to admit him, and closed as he passed through.

"ah, ah!" said a little man in an enormous pair of spectacles; "ah, ah! 'ith you, inthpector! the governor'th been athkin' after you to-day. let'th have a look," he continued, lifting a corner of a green-baize curtain; "ah! he'th jutht shakin' off that troublethome perjury. now i'll give him your name."

this was mr. amedroz, edward moss's right-hand man, who knew all his master's secrets, and who was so reticent that he never opened his mouth where he could convey as much by writing. so mr. amedroz inscribed "stellfox" in large round-text on a slip of paper, laid it before his principal, and, receiving an affirmative nod, ushered the inspector into the presence.

"morning, stellfox," said mr. edward, glancing up from a mass of papers in front of him; "report?"

inspector stellfox, unbuttoning his blue frock-coat, produced from his breast-pocket a thick notebook, and commenced:

"sorry to say, nothing new about captain congreve, sir. we've tried--"

"now look here, stellfox," interrupted mr. moss; "you've had that business in hand a fortnight. if you don't report by wednesday, i'll give that to scotland yard. your men are getting lazy, and i'll try what sir richard mayne's people can do. what next?"

crestfallen, inspector stellfox continued,--"slimy william, sir."

"well," said mr. moss keenly, "what of him?"

"i think that's all right, sir. we've found out where his mother lives,--shad's row, wapping, no. 3; bill up in the window, 'a room to let.' if you've no objection, one of my men shall take that room, sir, and try and work it that way."

"no," said mr. moss; "must put a woman in there. don't you know a woman up to that sort of thing?"

"there's hodder's wife, sir, as helped us in charlton's case; she'd do."

"i recollect; she'll do well. furnished or unfurnished?"

"unfurnished room, sir."

"all right; hire some furniture of the broker. tell mrs. hodder to get in at once. widow; or husband employed on railway in the country. must keep a gin-bottle always open, and be generous with it. old lady will talk over her drink; and mrs. hodder must find out where slimy william is, what name he's going under, and must notice what letters old lady receives. tell her to take a child with her. has she got a child?"

"not of her own, sir."

"never mind; must get one of some one else's. must see you, or one of your men, every morning. child will want air--excuse for her taking him out. if slimy william is coming home on the sudden, child must be taken ill in the middle of the night; she can take it to the doctor, and come down to you."

"right, sir. now about coping crossman."

"well?"

"markham will have him to-night, sir. that girl 'liza burdon blew his gaff for him last night. he's a comic singer, he is. goes by the name of munmorency, and sings at the cambridge music-hall."

"good! what of mitford?"

"well, nothing yet, sir. you're hard upon me, mr. moss, and that you are. we've only had that case three days, and you're expecting information already."

"stellfox," said mr. moss rising, and taking a sonorous pinch of snuff, "you detectives are mere shams. you've been spoilt by the penny press, and the shilling books, and all that. you think you're wonderful fellows, and you know nothing--literally nothing. if i didn't do your work as well as my own, where should we be? don't answer; listen! mitford has been three times within the last week to the crown coffee-house in doctors' commons. there's very little doubt that he'll go there again; for it's a quiet house, and he seems to like it. you've got his description; be off at once."

inspector stellfox had transacted too much business with mr. edward moss to expect any further converse, so he took up the child's hat and quietly bowed and departed.

to say that of all the intensely-quiet and respectable houses in that strange portion of the city of london known as doctors' commons the crown coffee-house is the most quiet and respectable, is making a strong assertion, but one which could yet be borne out by facts. it is a sleepy, dreamy neighbourhood still, although its original intense dulness has been somewhat enlivened by the pedestrians who make paul's chain a passage to the steamboats calling at paul's wharf; and the hansom cabs which find a short cut down great st. andrew's hill to the south-western railway. but it is still the resort of abnormal individuals,--ticket-porters, to wit; plethoric individuals in half-dirty white aprons and big badges like gigantic opera-checks, men whose only use seems to be to warn approaching vehicles of the blocking-up of the narrow streets; and sable-clad mottled-faced proctors and their clerks. there are real green trees in doctors' commons; and flies and butterflies--by no means bad imitations of the real country insect--are seen there on the wing in the sultry summer days, buzzing round the heads of the ticket-porters, and of the strong men who load the bottle company's heavy carts, and who are always flinging huge fragments of rusty iron into the capacious hold of the mary anne of goole, stuck high and dry in the mud off paul's wharf before mentioned. life is rampant in the immediate vicinity,--in enormous manchester warehouses, perpetually inhaling the contents of enormous pickford's vans; in huge blocks of offices where the representatives of vast provincial firms take orders and transact business; in corn-stores and iron-companies; in mansions filled from basement to roof with dresden china and bohemian glass in insurance-offices and banks; and in the office of the great journal, where the engines for six days out of the seven, are unceasingly throbbing. but in the commons life gives way to mere existence and vegetation. the organ-man plays unmolested on addle hill, and the children's shuttlecocks flutter in wardrobe place; no pickford's vans disturb the calm serenity of great knightrider street; and instead of warehouses and offices, there are quaint old dumpy congregationless churches, big rambling old halls of city companies, the forgotten old heralds' college with its purposeless traditions, a few apparently nothing-doing shops, a number of proctors' offices into which man is never seen to enter, and two or three refreshment-rooms. of these the crown is the oldest and the dirtiest. it was established--if you may trust the half-effaced legend over its door--in 1790, and it has ever since been doing the same quiet sleepy trade. it cannot understand what kammerer's means by it. kammerer's is the refreshment-house at the corner, which has long since escaped from the chrysalis state of coffee-shop, and now, resplendent with plate-glass and mahogany bar, cooks joints, and draws the celebrated "crm grw" llangollen ale, and is filled with a perpetual stream of clattering junior clerks from the adjacent warehouses. the crown--according to its proprietor, in whose family its lease has been vested since its establishment--don't do nothin' of this sort, and don't want to. it still regards chops and steaks as the most delicious of human food, and tea and coffee as the only beverages by which their consumption should be accompanied. across its window still stretches an illuminated blind representing an italian gentleman putting off in a boat with apparently nothing more serviceable for navigation purposes than a blue banjo; and it still makes a gorgeous display of two large coffee-cups and saucers, with one egg in a blue egg-cup between them. its interior is still cut up into brown boxes with hard narrow seats, on which you must either sit bolt upright, or fall off at once; its narrow old tables are scarred and notched and worm-eaten; and it holds yet by its sawdusted floor.

about seven o'clock in the evening of the same day on which inspector stellfox had consulted mr. moss, the green-baize door of the crown was gently swung open, and a man slinking in dived into the nearest box then vacant. he was a young fellow of not more than three-and-twenty, with well-cut regular features, and who would have been handsome had not his complexion been so sallow and his cheeks so pinched. his gaunt attenuated frame, thin hands, and eyes of unnatural brightness and restlessness, all told of recent illness; and though it was summer time his threadbare coat was tightly buttoned round his throat, and he shivered as he seated himself, and looked hungrily at the cooking-fire burning in the kitchen at the other end of the shop. after furtively glancing round him he beckoned the proprietor, gave him an order for some small refreshment, and then taking down an old volume of the gentleman's magazine from a neighbouring shelf, began to turn over its pages in a listless, purposeless manner. while he was thus engaged, the green-baize door swung open again, admitting a portly man with a child's hat perched on the top of his round head, who, walking into the middle of the shop, ordered from that post of vantage "a large cup of coffee and a rasher," then looked round the different boxes, and finally settled himself with his back to the light in that box where the last arrival was seated. the portly man made the other visitor a very polite bow, which was scarcely returned, and the first comer bent more earnestly over his book and shrouded his face with his hand. but the portly man, who was no other than inspector stellfox, had been too long in his profession not to know his business thoroughly, and so he hung up the child's hat on a peg immediately over his friend's head, and he took hold of a newspaper which lay directly under his friend's elbow; and taking advantage of each opportunity to look his friend over and over, saw that he was on the right track, and thoroughly made up his mind what to do when the chance arrived. the chance arrived simultaneously with the refreshment ordered by the haggard man: he had to put down his hand to reach the tray, and in so doing his eyes met those of the inspector, who at once winked and laid his finger on his lip.

"mr. mitford?" said he in a fat voice; "ah! i thought so. no, you don't, sir," he continued, pushing back the man, who had attempted to start up; "it's all right; that little matter at canterbury's been squared up long since. i wanted to see you about something else. look here, sir;" and the inspector took from his pocketbook a printed slip of paper, and handed it across the table to his companion, who read as follows:

"fatal and appalling accident.

"we (bridgewater mercury) deeply regret to hear that a telegram has been received from malta stating that sir percy mitford of redmoor near this town, and his two sons, aged twelve and nine, were drowned by the upsetting of a little boat in which they were proceeding to sir percy's well-known yacht enchantress, then anchored off valetta. by this dreadful accident the title and estates pass into another branch of the family; the heir being sir percy's nephew, mr. charles wentworth mitford, now studying abroad."

"there, sir! there's news for you!" said inspector stellfox; "we know what studying abroad means, don't we? we knows--" but inspector stellfox stopped suddenly; for his companion, after glaring at him vacantly for an instant with the paper outstretched in his rigid hand, fell forward in a fit.

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