<h2><SPAN name="AN_APPEAL" id="AN_APPEAL"></SPAN>AN APPEAL</h2>
<h3>XII.</h3>
<p><span style="margin-left: 14em;">"If you did know to whom I gave the ring,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">If you did know for whom I gave the ring,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">And how unwillingly I left the ring,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">You would abate the strength of your displeasure."</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 24em;"><i>Merchant of Venice.</i></span><br/><br/></p>
<p>Leander strode down the street in a whirl of conflicting emotions. At
the very moment when he seemed to have prevailed over Miss Parkinson's
machinations, his evil fate had stepped in and undone him for ever! What
would become of him without Matilda? As he was thinking of his gloomy
prospects, he noticed, for the first time, that the statue was keeping
step by his side, and he turned on her with smothered rage. "Well," he
began, "I hope you're satisfied?"</p>
<p>"Quite, Leander, quite satisfied; for have I not found you?"</p>
<p>"Oh, you've found me right enough," he replied, with a groan—"trust you
for that! What I should like to know is, how the dickens you did it?"</p>
<p>"Thus," she replied: "I awoke, and it was dark, and you were not there,
and I needed you; and I went forth, and called you by your name. And
you, now that you have hearkened to my call, you are happy, are you
not?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Me?" said Leander, grimly. "Oh, I'm regular jolly, I am! Haven't I
reason?"</p>
<p>"Your sisters seemed alarmed at my coming," she said. "Why?"</p>
<p>"Well," said Leander, "they aren't used to having marble goddesses
dropping in on them promiscuously."</p>
<p>"The youngest wept: was it because I took you from her side?"</p>
<p>"I shouldn't wonder," he returned gruffly. "Don't bother me!"</p>
<p>When they were both safely within the little upper room again, he opened
the cupboard door wide. "Now, marm," he said, in a voice which trembled
with repressed rage, "you must be tired with the exercise you've took
this evening, and I'll trouble you to walk in here."</p>
<p>"There are many things on which I would speak with you," she said.</p>
<p>"You must keep them for next time," he answered roughly. "If you can see
anything, you can see that just now I'm not in a temper for to stand it,
whatever I may be another evening."</p>
<p>"Why do I suffer this language from you?" she demanded
indignantly—"why?"</p>
<p>"If you don't go in, you'll hear language you'll like still less,
goddess or no goddess!" he said, foaming. "I mean it. I've been worked
up past all bearing, and I advise you to let me alone just now, or
you'll repent it!"</p>
<p>"Enough!" she said haughtily, and stalked proudly into the lonely niche,
which he closed instantly. As he did so, he noticed his Sunday papers
lying still folded on his table, and seized one eagerly.</p>
<p>"It may have something in it about what Jauncy was<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</SPAN></span> telling me of," he
said; and his search was rewarded by the following paragraph:—</p>
<p>"<span class="smcap">Daring Capture of Burglars in Bloomsbury.</span>—On the night of Friday, the
—th, Police-constable Yorke, B 954, while on duty, in the course of one
of his rounds, discovered two men, in a fainting condition and covered
with blood, which was apparently flowing from sundry wounds upon their
persons, lying against the railings of Queen Square. Being unable to
give any coherent account of themselves, and housebreaking implements
being found in their possession, they were at once removed to the Bow
Street Station, where, the charge having been entered against them, they
were recognized by a member of the force as two notorious housebreakers
who have long been 'wanted' in connection with the Camberwell burglary,
in which, as will be remembered, an officer lost his life."</p>
<p>The paragraph went on to give their names and sundry other details, and
concluded with a sentence which plunged Leander into fresh torments:—</p>
<p>"In spite of the usual caution, both prisoners insisted upon
volunteering a statement, the exact nature of which has not yet
transpired, but which is believed to have reference to another equally
mysterious outrage—the theft of the famous Venus from the Wricklesmarsh
Collection—and is understood to divert suspicion into a hitherto
unsuspected channel."</p>
<p>What could this mean, if not that those villains, smarting under their
second failure, had denounced him in revenge? He tried to persuade
himself that the passage would bear any other construction, but not very
successfully. "If they have brought <i>me</i> in," he thought, and it was his
only gleam of consolation, "I should have heard of it before this."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>And even this gleam vanished as a sharp knocking was heard below; and,
descending to open the door, he found his visitor to be Inspector
Bilbow.</p>
<p>"Evening, Tweddle," said the Inspector, quietly. "I've come to have
another little talk with you."</p>
<p>Leander thought he would play his part till it became quite hopeless.
"Proud to see you, Mr. Inspector," he said. "Will you walk into my
saloon? and I'll light the gas for you."</p>
<p>"No, don't you trouble yourself," said the terrible man. "I'll walk
upstairs where you're sitting yourself, if you've no objections."</p>
<p>Leander dared not make any, and he ushered the detective upstairs
accordingly.</p>
<p>"Ha!" said the latter, throwing a quick eye round the little room. "Nice
little crib you've got here. Keep everything you want on the premises,
eh? Find those cupboards very convenient, I dare say?"</p>
<p>"Very," said Leander (like the innocent Joseph Surface that he was);
"oh, very convenient, sir." He tried to keep his eyes from resting too
consciously upon the fatal door that held his secret.</p>
<p>"Keep your coal and your wine and spirits there?" said the detective.
(Was he watching his countenance, or not?)</p>
<p>"Y—yes," said Leander; "leastways, in one of them. Will you take
anything, sir?"</p>
<p>"Thank 'ee, Tweddle; I don't mind if I do. And what do you keep in the
other one, now?"</p>
<p>"The other?" said the poor man. "Oh, odd things!" (He certainly had
<i>one</i> odd thing in it.)</p>
<p>After the officer had chosen and mixed his spirits and water, he began:
"Now, you know what's brought me here, don't you?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>("If he was sure, he wouldn't try to pump me," argued Leander. "I won't
throw up just yet.")</p>
<p>"I suppose it's the ring," he replied innocently. "You don't mean to say
you've got it back for me, Mr. Inspector? Well, I <i>am</i> glad."</p>
<p>"I thought you set no particular value on the ring when I met you last?"
said the other.</p>
<p>"Why," said Leander, "I may have said so out of politeness, not wanting
to trouble you; but, as you said it was the statue you were after
chiefly, why, I don't mind admitting that I shall be thankful indeed to
get that ring back. And so you've brought it, have you, sir?"</p>
<p>He said this so naturally, having called in all his powers of
dissimulation to help him in his extremity, that the detective was
favourably impressed. He had already felt a suspicion that he had been
sent here on a fool's errand, and no one could have looked less like a
daring criminal, and the trusted confederate of still more daring
ruffians, than did Leander at that moment.</p>
<p>"Heard anything of Potter lately?" he asked, wishing to try the effect
of a sudden <i>coup</i>.</p>
<p>"I don't know the gentleman," said Leander, firmly; for, after all, he
did not.</p>
<p>"Now, take care. He's been seen to frequent this house. We know more
than you think, young man."</p>
<p>"Oh! if he bluffs, <i>I</i> can bluff too," passed through Leander's mind.
"Inspector Bilbow," he said, "I give you my sacred honour, I've never
set eyes on him. He can't have been here, not with my knowledge. It's my
belief you're trying to make out something against me. If you're a
friend, Inspector, you'll tell me straight out."</p>
<p>"That's not our way of doing business; and yet, hang it, I ought to know
an honest man by this time! Tweddle, I'll drop the investigator, and
speak as man to man.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</SPAN></span> You've been reported to me (never mind by whom) as
the receiver of the stolen Venus—a pal of this very Potter—that's what
I've against you, my man!"</p>
<p>"I know who told you that," said Leander; "it was that Count and his
precious friend Braddle!"</p>
<p>"Oh, you know them, do you? That's an odd guess for an innocent man,
Tweddle!"</p>
<p>"They found me out from inquiries at the gardens," said Leander; "and as
for guessing, it's in this very paper. So it's me they've gone and
implicated, have they? All right. I suppose they're men whose word you'd
go by, wouldn't you, sir—truthful, reliable kind of parties, eh?"</p>
<p>"None of that, Tweddle," said the Inspector, rather uneasily. "We
officers are bound to follow up any clue, no matter where it comes from.
I was informed that that Venus is concealed somewhere about these
premises. It may be, or it may not be; but it's my duty to make the
proper investigations. If you were a prince of the blood, it would be
all the same."</p>
<p>"Well, all I can say is, that I'm as innocent as my own toilet
preparations. Ask yourself if it is likely. What could <i>I</i> do with a
stolen statue—not to mention that I'm a respectable tradesman, with a
reputation to maintain? Excuse me, but I'm afraid those burglars have
been 'aving a lark with you, sir."</p>
<p>He went just a little too far here, for the detective was visibly
irritated.</p>
<p>"Don't chatter to me," he said. "If you're innocent, so much the better
for you; if that statue is found here after this, it will ruin you. If
you know anything, be it ever so little, about it, the best thing you
can do is to speak out while there's time."</p>
<p>"I can only say, once more, I'm as innocent as the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</SPAN></span> drivelling snow,"
repeated Leander. "Why can't you believe my word against those
blackguards?"</p>
<p>"Perhaps I do," said the other; "but I must make a formal look round, to
ease my conscience."</p>
<p>Leander's composure nearly failed him. "By all means," he said at
length. "Come and ease your conscience all over the house, sir, do; I
can show you over."</p>
<p>"Softly," said the detective. "I'll begin here, and work gradually up,
and then down again."</p>
<p>"Here?" said Leander, aghast. "Why, you've seen all there is there!"</p>
<p>"Now, Tweddle, I shall conduct this my own way, if <i>you</i> please. I've
been following your eyes, Tweddle, and they've told me tales. I'll
trouble you to open that cupboard you keep looking at so."</p>
<p>"This cupboard?" cried Leander. "Why, you don't suppose I've got the
Venus in there, sir!"</p>
<p>"If it's anywhere, it's there! There's no taking me in, I tell you. Open
it!"</p>
<p>"Oh!" said Leander, "it is hard to be the object of these cruel
suspicions. Mr. Inspector, listen to me. I can't open that cupboard, and
I'll tell you why.... You—you've been young yourself.... Think how
you'd feel in my situation ... and consider <i>her</i>! As a gentleman, you
won't press it, I'm sure!"</p>
<p>"If I'm making any mistake, I shall know how to apologise," said the
Inspector. "If you don't open that cupboard, <i>I</i> shall."</p>
<p>"Never!" exclaimed Leander. "I'll die first!" and he threw himself upon
the handle.</p>
<p>The other caught him by the shoulders, and sent him twirling into the
opposite corner; and then, taking a key from his own pocket, he opened
the door himself.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I—I never encouraged her!" whimpered Leander, as he saw that all was
lost.</p>
<p>The officer had stepped back in silence from the cupboard; then he faced
Leander, with a changed expression. "I suppose you think yourself
devilish sharp?" he said savagely; and Leander discovered that the
cupboard was as bare as Mother Hubbard's!</p>
<p>He was not precisely surprised, except at first. "She's keeping out of
the way; she wouldn't be the goddess she is if she couldn't do a
trifling thing like that!" was all he thought of the phenomenon. He
forced himself to laugh a little.</p>
<p>"Excuse me," he said, "but you did seem so set on detecting something
wrong, that I couldn't help humouring you!"</p>
<p>Inspector Bilbow was considerably out of humour, and gave Leander to
understand that he would laugh in a certain obscure region, known as
"the other side of his face," by-and-by. "You take care, that's my
advice to you, young man. I've a deuced good mind to arrest you on
suspicion as it is!" he said hotly.</p>
<p>"Lor', sir!" said Leander, "what for—for not having anything in that
cupboard?"</p>
<p>"It's my belief you know more than you choose to tell. Be that as it
may, I shall not take you into custody for the present; but you pay
attention to what I'm going to tell you next. Don't you attempt to leave
this house, or to remove anything from it, till you see me again, and
that'll be some time to-morrow evening. If you do attempt it, you'll be
apprehended at once, for you're being watched. I tell you that for your
own sake, Tweddle; for I've no wish to get you into trouble if you act
fairly by me. But mind you stay where you are for the next twenty-four
hours."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"And what's to happen then?" said Leander.</p>
<p>"I mean to have the whole house thoroughly searched and you must be
ready to give us every assistance—that's what's to happen. I might make
a secret of it; but where's the use? If you're not a fool, you'll see
that it won't do to play any tricks. You'd far better stand by me than
Potter."</p>
<p>"I tell you I don't know Potter. <i>Blow</i> Potter!" said Leander, warmly.</p>
<p>"We shall see," was all the detective deigned to reply; "and just be
ready for my men to-morrow evening, or take the consequences. Those are
my last words to you!"</p>
<p>And with this he took his leave. He was by no means the most brilliant
officer in the Department, and he felt uncomfortably aware that he did
not see his way clear as yet. He could not even make up his mind on so
elementary a point as Leander's guilt or innocence.</p>
<p>But he meant to take the course he had announced, and his frankness in
giving previous notice was not without calculation. He argued thus: If
Tweddle was free from all complicity, nothing was lost by delaying the
search for a day; if he were guilty, he would be more than mortal if he
did not attempt, after such a warning, either to hide his booty more
securely, and probably leave traces which would betray him, or else to
escape when his guilt would be manifest.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, there were circumstances in the case which he could not
be expected to know, and which made his logic inapplicable.</p>
<p>After he had gone, Leander thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and
began to whistle forlornly. "A little while ago it was burglars—now
it's police!" he reflected aloud. "I'm going it, I am! And then there's<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</SPAN></span>
Matilda and that there Venus—one predickyment on top of another!" (But
here a sudden hope lightened his burden.) "Suppose she's took herself
off for good?" He was prevented from indulging this any further by a
long, low laugh, which came from the closed cupboard.</p>
<p>"No such luck—she's back again!" he groaned. "Oh, <i>come</i> out if you
want to. Don't stay larfin' at me in there!"</p>
<p>The goddess stepped out, with a smile of subdued mirth upon her lips.
"Leander," she said, "did it surprise you just now that I had vanished?"</p>
<p>"Oh," he said wearily, "I don't know—yes, I suppose so. You found some
way of getting through at the back, I dare say?"</p>
<p>"Do you think that even now I cannot break through the petty restraints
of matter?"</p>
<p>"Well, however it was managed, it was cleverly done. I must say that. I
didn't hardly expect it of you. But you must do the same to-morrow
night, mind you!"</p>
<p>"Must I, indeed?" she said.</p>
<p>"Yes, unless you want to ruin me altogether, you must. They're going to
search the premises <i>for you</i>!"</p>
<p>"I have heard all," she said. "But give yourself no anxiety: by that
time you and I will be beyond human reach."</p>
<p>"Not me," he corrected. "If you think I'm going to let myself be wafted
over to Cyprus (which is British soil now, let me tell you), you're
under a entire delusion. I've never been wafted anywhere yet, and I
don't mean to try it!"</p>
<p>All her pent-up wrath broke forth and descended upon him with crushing
force.</p>
<p>"Meanest and most contemptible of mortal men, you shall recognize me as
the goddess I am! I have borne<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</SPAN></span> with you too long; it shall end this
night. Shallow fool that you have been, to match your puny intellect
against a goddess famed for her wiles as for her beauty! You have
thought me simple and guileless; you have never feared to treat me with
disrespect; you have even dared to suppose that you could keep me—an
immortal—pent within these wretched walls! I humoured you; I let you
fool yourself with the notion that your will was free—your soul your
own. Now that is over! Consider the perils which encircle you.
Everything has been aiding to drive you into these arms. My hour of
triumph is at hand—yield, then! Cast yourself at my feet, and grovel
for pardon—for mercy—or assuredly I will spare you not!"</p>
<p>Leander went down on all fours on the hearthrug. "Mercy!" he cried,
feebly. "I've meant no offence. Only tell me what you want of me."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="DOWN_ON_ALL_FOURS" id="DOWN_ON_ALL_FOURS"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill-p219.jpg" width-obs="351" height-obs="500" alt="LEANDER WENT DOWN ON ALL FOURS ON THE HEARTHRUG." title="" /> <span class="caption">LEANDER WENT DOWN ON ALL FOURS ON THE HEARTHRUG.</span></div>
<p>"Why should I tell you again? I demand the words from you which place
you within my power: speak them at once!"</p>
<p>("Ah," thought Leander, "I am not in her power as it is, then.") "If I
was to tell you once more that I couldn't undertake to say any such
words?" he asked aloud.</p>
<p>"Then," she said, "my patience would be at an end, and I would scatter
your vile frame to the four winds of heaven!"</p>
<p>"Lady Venus," said Leander, getting up with a white and desperate face,
"don't drive me into a corner. I can't go off, not at a moment's
notice—in either way! I—I must have a day—only a day—to make my
arrangements in. Give me a day, Lady Venus; I ask it as a partickler
favour!"</p>
<p>"Be it so," she said. "One day I give you in which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</SPAN></span> to take leave of
such as may be dear to you; but, after that, I will listen to no further
pleadings. You are mine, and, all unworthy as you are, I shall hold you
to your pledge!"</p>
<p>Leander was left with this terrible warning ringing in his ears: the
goddess would hold him to his involuntary pledge. Even he could see that
it was pride, and not affection, which rendered her so determined; and
he trembled at the thought of placing himself irrevocably in her power.</p>
<p>But what was he to do? The alternative was too awful; and then, in
either case, he must lose Matilda. Here the recollection of how he had
left her came over him with a vivid force. What must she be thinking of
him at that moment? And who would ever tell her the truth, when he had
been spirited away for ever?</p>
<p>"Oh, Matilda!" he cried, "if you only knew the hidgeous position I'm
in—if you could only advise me what to do—I could bear it better!"</p>
<p>And then he resolved that he would ask that advice without delay, and
decide nothing until she replied. There was no reason for any further
concealment: she had seen the statue herself, and must know the worst.
What she could not know was his perfect innocence of any real
unfaithfulness to her, and that he must explain.</p>
<p>He sat up all night composing a letter that should touch her to the
heart, with the following result:—</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My own dearest Girl</span>,</p>
<p>"If such you will still allow me to qualify you, I write to you in
a state of mind that I really 'ardly know what I am about, but I
cannot indure making no effort to clear up the gaping abiss which
the events of the past fatal afternoon has raised betwixt us.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"In spite of all I could do, you have now seen, and been justly
alarmed at, the Person with whom I allowed myself to become
involved in such a unhappy and unprecedented manner, and having
done so, you can think for yourself whether that Art of Stone was
able for to supplant yours for a single moment, though the way in
which such a hidgeous Event transpired I can not trust my pen to
describe except in the remark that it was purely axidental. It all
appened on that ill-ominous Saturday when we went down to those
Gardens where my Doom was saving up to lay in wait for me, and I
scorn to deny that Bella's sister Ada was one of the party. But as
to anything serous in that quarter, oh Tilly the ole time I was
contrasting you with her and thinking how truly superior, and never
did I swerve not what could be termed a swerve for a instant. I did
dance arf a walz with her—but why? Because she asked me to it and
as a Gentleman I was bound to oblige! And that was afterwards too,
when I had put that ring on which is the sauce of all my recent
aggony. All the while I was dancing my thoughts were elsewhere—on
how I could get the ring back again, for so I still hoped I could,
though when I came to have a try, oh my dear girl no one couldn't
persuade her she's that obstinate, and yet unless I do it is all
over with me, and soon too!</p>
<p>"And now if it's the last time I shall ever write words with a
mortal pen, I must request your support in this dilemmer which is
sounding its dread orns at my very door!</p>
<p>"You know what she is and who she is, and you cannot doubt but what
she's a <i>goddess</i> loath as you must feel to admit such a thing, and
I ask you if it would be downright wicked in me to do what she
tells me I must<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</SPAN></span> do. Indeed I wont do it, being no less than flying
with her immediate to a distant climb, and you know how repugnant I
am to such a action—not if you advise me against it or even if you
was but to assure me your affections were unchanged in spite of
all! But you know we parted under pigulier circs, and I cannot
disgise from myself that you may be thinking wuss of me than what
Matilda I can honestly say I deserve!</p>
<p>"Now I tell you solimly that if this is the fact, and you've been
thinking of your proper pride and your womanly dignity and things
like that—there's <i>no time for to do it in</i> Matilda, if you don't
want to break with me for all Eternity!</p>
<p>"For she's pressing me to carry out the pledge, as she calls it,
and I must decide before this time to-morrow, and I want to feel
you are not lost to me before I can support my trial, and what with
countless perplexities and burglars threatening, and giving false
informations, and police searching, there's no saying what I may do
nor what I mayn't do if I'm left to myself, for indeed I am very
unappy Matilda, and if ever a man was made a Victim through acting
without intentions, or if with, of the best—I am that Party! O
Matilda don't, don't desert me, unless you have seased to care for
me, and in that contingency I can look upon my Fate whatever it be
with a apathy that will supply the courage which will not even
winch at its approach, but if I am still of value, come, and come
precious soon, or it will be too late to the Asistance of</p>
<p><span style="margin-left: 19em;">"Your truly penitent and unfortunate</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 26em;">"<span class="smcap">Leander Tweddle</span>.</span><br/></p>
<p>"P.S.—You will see the condition of my feelings from my
spelling—I haven't the hart to spell."</p>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Dawn was breaking as he put the final touches to this appeal, and read
it over with a gloomy approbation. He had always cherished the
conviction that he could "write a good letter when he was put to it,"
and felt now that he had more than risen to the occasion.</p>
<p>"William shall take it down to Bayswater the first thing to-morrow—no,
to-day, I mean," he said, rubbing his hot eyes. "I fancy it will do my
business!"</p>
<p>And it did.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</SPAN></span></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />