My Strangest Case | Page 4

much truth there was in this report,
however, I cannot say; one thing, however, is quite certain; if it were
true, he had fallen grievously from his high estate.
When his meditations had continued for something like ten minutes, he
rose from the bed, blew a cloud of smoke, stretched himself, strapped
his valise once more, gave himself what the sailors call a hoist, that he
might be sure his money-belt was in its proper position, and then
unlocked the door, passed out, re-locked it after him, and returned to
the bar. There he called for certain curious liquors, smelt them
suspiciously before using them, and then proceeded deliberately to mix
himself a peculiar drink. The landlord watched him with appreciative
surprise. He imagined himself to be familiar with every drink known to
the taste of man, having had wide experience, but such an one as this he
had never encountered before.
"What do you call it?" he asked, when the other had finished his
preparations.
"I call it a 'Help to Reformation,'" the stranger replied. Then, with a
sneer upon his face, he added, "It should be popular with your
customers."
Taking the drink with him into the verandah outside, he seated himself
in a long chair and proceeded to sip it slowly, as if it were some elixir
whose virtue would be lost by haste. Some people might have been
amused by the motley crowd that passed along the street beyond the
verandah-rails, but Gideon Hayle, for such was his name, took no sort
of interest in it. He had seen it too often to find any variety in it. As a
matter of fact the mere sight of a pigtail was sufficient to remind him of
a certain episode in his career which he had been for years
endeavouring to forget.
"It doesn't look as if they are going to put in an appearance to-night," he

said to himself, as the liquor in the glass began to wane. "Can this letter
have been a hoax, an attempt to draw me off the scent? If so, by all the
gods in Asia, they may rest assured I'll be even with them."
He looked as though he meant it!
At last he rose, and having returned his glass to the bar, donned his
topee, left the hotel, and went for a stroll. It was but a short distance to
the harbour, and he presently found himself strolling along the several
miles of what I have already described as the most wonderful shipping
in the world. To Mr. Hayle the scene was too familiar to call for
comment. He had seen it on many occasions, and under a variety of
auspices. He had witnessed it as a deck-hand and as a saloon passenger;
as a steerage passenger, and in the humble capacity of a stowaway.
Now he was regarding it as a gentleman of leisure, who smoked a cigar
that had been paid for, and round whose waist was a belt with gold in it.
Knowing the spot where the British India boats from Calcutta usually
lie, he made his way to it, and inquired for a certain vessel. She had not
yet arrived, he was informed, and no one seemed to know when she
might be expected. At last, tired of his occupation, he returned to his
hotel, and in due course sat down to supper. He smoked another cigar
in the verandah afterwards, and was on the point of retiring for the
night, when two men suddenly made their appearance before him, and
accosted him by name. He immediately sprang to his feet with a cry of
welcome.
"I had made up my mind that you were not coming," he said as they
shook hands.
"The old tub didn't get in until a quarter to nine," the taller of the two
new-comers replied. "When did you arrive?"
"This afternoon," said Hayle, and for a moment volunteered no further
information. A good poker-player is always careful not to show his
hand.
"I suppose this place is not full?" inquired the man who had last
spoken.

"Full?" asked Hayle scornfully. "It's full of cockroaches and mildew, if
that's what you mean?"
"The best company we could possibly have," said the taller man.
"Cockroaches and blackbeetles don't talk and they don't listen at
keyholes. What's more, if they trouble you, you can put your heel on
them. Now let's see the landlord and see what he's got to offer us in the
way of rooms. We don't want any dinner, because we had it on board
the steamer."
Hayle accompanied them into the bar, and was a witness of the
satisfaction the landlord endeavoured, from business motives, to
conceal. In due course he followed them to the small, stifling rooms in
the yard