page 38

Chapter VI.

To wilful men
The injuries that they themselves procure
Must be their schoolmasters.

—King Lear.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Makes ill deeds done.

—King John.

Rain was falling with particular intensity, and a sharp south-westerly wind blowing along Princes and George Streets made walking the reverse of pleasant. The Town Hall clock had just produced those melodious chimes which indicated that the hour of seven had arrived. It was Monday night, and as Harry Williams emerged from his uncle's house, and made quickly along George Street, there was on his face a look of calm resolve and firmness of purpose which revealed that he was bent upon some duty not altogether to his liking. Well wrapped up in waterproof overcoat, and protected from the beating wind and rain by a stout umbrella, he allowed more than one tramcar to pass him without seeking the temporary shelter from the storm that they would have afforded. Pursuing his way as quickly as possible, he had, without seeing any person who would be likely to wonder at his errand to town at this particular hour, reached and crossed the Octagon, this geometrical term being the name given to a disorderly reserve of that shape page 39 laid off in the centre of the town. It is intersected by the main thoroughfare of the city, and forms the point where the street changes its name from Princes to George Street. Harry pushed on with such speed, and was so absorbed in the purpose of his walk, that he did not notice another young man in front of him, and was only made aware of his presence when his umbrella came forcibly into contact with the other pedestrian's hat and knocked it off his head.

“Confound you for a stupid fool!”

The words reached Harry's ears, and he recognised the voice as that of Herman Lane, whom of all others he would have wished to avoid. Instinctively he mumbled an apology, and drew his umbrella closely down over his head to avoid recognition, a precaution rendered unnecessary by the other's endeavour to at once find his hat. Harry thereupon hurried on, thankful that he had not been known, and that he would be well out of the way before any effort could be made to overtake him.

Aware now that no further precaution than haste was necessary to enable him to keep out of Herman's way, he redoubled his pace, and shortly stood before and knocked at a door in Liverpool Street giving access to the Post Office Buildings.

Harry's visit was evidently not unexpected, for the door was immediately opened by an official of the Post Office, whom he followed through several passages more or less dark, until they reached the sorting room. Here a scene of considerable bustle and order met his view. The Australian mail had just come in, and the process of sorting having been practically completed during its transit by train from the Bluff, the work of distribution and delivery into the private boxes was about to begin.

Everything having been evidently pre-arranged, Harry page 40 was conducted to the back of the boxes, where he placed himself in such a position as enabled him to obtain a clear view of the passage in front, and from which he could see distinctly if any person opened the box of Bruce and Co. After ascertaining the best position to occupy, he took from his pocket a letter addressed to the firm; this he deposited in the box, and then prepared himself for waiting.

At the best of times, waiting is no very pleasant proceeding, if anything so passive can be dignified by that name. But when, added to the suspense of waiting, is the feeling that you are on the eve of having some dreaded revelation made, or many dark suspicions verified, the state of mind the inactivity of waiting produces is the reverse of enviable. The imagination is allowed full play, and many mental pictures are formed, presaging events of the most uncommon nature, the bearing and portent of which are magnified to such an extent as to fill the mind with feelings of apprehension and alarm. On the full height of expectation the horizon of imagination becomes greatly extended, and prediction asserts more than her lawful prerogatives.

Not long after Harry had taken up his position of observation, he saw what seemed to give colour to his suspicions and justify the action he had taken. Shortly after the clock had struck the half-hour, Herman Lane hurriedly entered the passage, and, after looking nervously around, proceeded directly to the box which formed the central point of Harry's watching, took a key from his pocket, and opened the box. He hastily drew forth and read the address on the only letter there, the one left by Harry, which he immediately threw back with a contemptuous sign of impatience, and re-locked the box. Casting a hasty look at the board which indicates what mails are sorted, he left the Post Office as quickly as he had entered it.

page 41

So far a part of Harry's suspicion was justified. Herman Lane possessed and used a key of the letter box to which he had no right. Why did he not take the only letter there? Was he expecting something else? Would he return? Apparently Harry decided the latter questions in the affirmative, for he did not stir from his position, but set himself to the task of further watching.

What was the cause of this detective duty that Harry had placed upon himself, and what did he suspect?

During the past week, and since the receipt of the letter from Messrs. White, Shaw, and Co., Small had discovered that some letters containing remittances from Auckland had gone astray. To effect sufficient enquiries concerning them it became necessary to make known the state of affairs either to the cashier or Harry, and Small chose the latter. Immediately on learning what had taken place, and connecting the facts with the enquiries made by Herman Lane on the occasion of the last Melbourne mail, Harry could not resist the feeling that there was room for some investigations in that direction. Acting on this impulse he determined to begin at once to work out his ideas, and as the Melbourne mail would be in on Monday night, he made some secret arrangements, with the result that we have just seen, and leading up, as he now felt convinced, to his being made the possessor of some important facts, if not put on the direct path of discovery.

Before another half-hour had elapsed, Herman Lane again entered the department of the private boxes; this time more cautiously than before, for a number of persons were now coming and going. Proceeding directly up the passage, eagerly surveying each of those present, he lost no time in again unlocking the box, only to suffer the disappointment of finding nothing but the same letter, which he carefully examined, and placing it in his pocket page 42 he quickly left the building, and hurried down the darker side of the steps. Having ascertained that the letter was really gone from the box, Harry got the letters for the firm, and, bidding good-night to the officials, he left the Post Office, making his way round towards the night entrance to the boxes.

As it was certain that Lane would at least pay another visit to the box before finally abandoning his purpose for the night, Harry concealed himself in the shadow of the Colonial Bank Building opposite, to await this further visit. Fortunately, he had not long to wait. Some time after nine o'clock Herman Lane came quietly round from Bond Street, and entered the Post Office. He emerged again almost immediately, and, coming down the steps on the lower side, crossed the street, and passed hurriedly by where Harry was. Assured that Lane was now giving up the idea of obtaining anything from the Post Office that night, Harry immediately followed him until he saw him enter the hotel, to which we traced him on the occasion of his card experience several days previously. Not considering it prudent to attempt to learn anything more that night, Harry at once proceeded homewards.

The following morning Herman Lane was at the office with remarkable punctuality, and Harry, being full of his previous night's experiences, found it difficult to avoid doing something which would betray his knowledge.

The impulse to make immediate use of what he had learned was so strong that it required all his determination to resist it, but he knew that he had not sufficient grounds for more than suspicion. So far, the letter he had placed in the box last night was still in Lane's possession, but there was yet plenty of time before that circumstance should become remarkable. At luncheon hour he contrived to leave the office at the same time as Lane, and walked with page 43 him for a few minutes. Before speaking, he searched in his pocket; then remarked quietly—-

“Lane, I've come a way without the post key. Lend me yours, to save my going back for it.”

His companion gave a slight start, but immediately overcoming any feeling of surprise, replied—

“I have no key of the box, and you know it.” The latter words in a tone of bitterness, mingled with ill-nature.

With a smiling apology for his apparent forgetfulness, Harry turned as if to go towards the office, but only proceeded a few yards, when he resumed his walk home, meditating on the additional link of evidence that tended to confirm his suspicion.

“Herman Lane has a key of the office box, and wishes to conceal the fact. What has he done with the letter he took away last night?”