The Bond of Black Read online

strange that her companions, knowing her to be astranger to London, should thus leave her to her own devices inLeicester Square at midnight. Again, it was curious that she herselfshould only know the name of the road, and not the district.

  "You said your friends live in Ellerdale Street," I exclaimed at last,after we had been chatting about the performance, and she had criticisedthe singers with an artlessness which betrayed that she was entirelyunaccustomed to the music-hall. "The best course will be to ask acabman."

  A hansom was standing at the kerb.

  "Do you know of any street named Ellerdale Street?" I asked the driver.

  "No, sir, I don't," he answered, after a pause, during which time hethought deeply. "There's Ellerslie Road up in Shep'erd's Bush, andEllesmere Road out at Bow, but I don't know of any others." Then,turning to another man on a cab behind him, he asked:

  "I say, Sandy, do you know Ellerdale Street?"

  "No, don't know it at all. Ask a policeman," was the other's gruffresponse.

  "I'm giving you a lot of trouble," my companion said apologetically."It is really too bad, and you must think me very foolish to getseparated from my friends like this. How it occurred I really don'tknow. They went out in front of me, and the crowd kept me from comingout of my seat. Then, when I got into the promenade I found they hadvanished, as if by magic."

  "It's evident that the street is not well-known," I said, "forhansom-cab drivers are really encyclopaedias of London geography, havingto pass an examination in it before being granted a driver's licence bythe police. It must be somewhere far out in the suburbs."

  Then a thought suddenly occurred to me.

  "The only thing I can suggest," I continued, "is that you should walkround to my chambers in Charing Cross Road, for I have there a Directorywhich will no doubt give us some clue to the whereabouts of yourfriends."

  She paused, and looked at me rather strangely I thought. I had expectedher to be eager to act as I suggested, but found her somewhat loth toaccompany me. Yet, was this not natural? I was an utter stranger.Perhaps, too, she had seen some drama in the provinces where the villaininvariably wears a starched shirt-front and smokes cigarettes, for itseemed as though she held me in fear.

  "You are very kind," she answered, "but I really think--"

  "No," I said, divining her thoughts. "It is impossible for you towander the streets until morning. You must allow me to help you.Come."

  "I've been thinking it would be best, perhaps, for me to go to anhotel," she said.

  "As you wish," I replied. "But you must find out this unknown streeteither now or to-morrow morning, and if you take my advice you will loseno time in ascertaining where your friends really live, for they will beanxious about you."

  For a few moments she reflected, then exclaimed--

  "Yes, you're right after all. I'm sure you are extremely kind."

  And together we crossed the Square and continued along Cranbourne Streetto the colossal block of redbrick flats wherein my chambers weresituated.

  CHAPTER TWO.

  THIS CRUCIFIX.

  On ascending to the third floor, Simes, my man, opened the door and sheadvanced timidly down the tiny passage to my sitting-room. It was not avery large apartment, but I had furnished it comfortably a couple ofyears before, and it presented a rather cosy appearance with thetable-cover and velvet _portieres_ of sage green to match, a couple ofbig roomy saddlebag chairs of club dimensions, a high, carved-oakbuffet, with its strip of white cloth spread as daintily as in thedining-room of any well-appointed house, for Simes was an excellent man,as natty as a chamber-maid. He took a pride in keeping my rooms spickand span. An ex-trooper of Hussars, he had seen service with me inEgypt before I left the Service, and was a model servant, obeying withmilitary precision, and was eminently trustworthy, save where whiskeywas concerned. He could not be expected to resist the temptation oftaking a drop from my tantalus on odd occasions.

  Upon the walls of my room were a few choice pictures which I hadpurchased from time to time, together with a pencil caricature of myselfdrawn by one of the _Punch_ artists who was an old friend, and a coupleof plaques which had been given me by the lady who painted them. In themiddle of the room stood the square table with a bowl of flowers in thecentre, on one side of the fireplace a revolving bookstand, and on theother nearest the window, which looked down upon Charing Cross Road, asmall triangular table of rosewood, whereon stood some curios which Ihad picked up during my pleasure trip round the world.

  I give this detailed description of my own quarters because it will befound necessary in order to properly understand the story.

  "What a pretty room!" was my fair unknown's first exclamation.

  "Do you think so? I'm glad you like it," I laughed, for most of myvisitors were in the habit of making similar observations. "Do sitdown," and I drew forward one of the big armchairs.

  With a word of thanks she seated herself, and when I placed a hassock ather feet she stretched out one tiny foot upon it coquettishly, althoughwith such natural grace that there was nothing fast about her.

  I stood upon the hearthrug looking at her, and when our eyes met shelaughed a bright, merry laugh, all the misgivings she had previouslyentertained having now vanished.

  "First, you must be faint, for it is so late," and touching the bellSimes instantly answered, and I ordered port wine and glasses.

  She protested instantly, but on being pressed sipped half a glass andleft the remainder.

  We chatted on as Simes, who had been waiting on us, with a glance ofwonder, left and closed the door.

  Then, rising, I took down the Directory from the bookcase and opened itat the "Streets." She rose from her chair, and gazed eagerly upon thegreat puzzling volume until I came to Ellerdale Street.

  "Ellerdale Street, Lewisham," I read aloud. "From Porson Street toErmine Road. Do those names bring back to you any recollection of thewhereabouts of your friends' house?"

  "No," she reflected, with a perplexed expression. "I've never heard ofthem."

  "The street is apparently near Loampit Vale," I said. "That would bethe principal thoroughfare. You no doubt came from Lewisham RoadStation by the Chatham and Dover Railway to Victoria--or perhaps toLudgate Hill?"

  She shook her head. Apparently she had not the slightest idea of thegeography of London. Upon this point her mind was an utter blank.

  "How long have you been in London?" I inquired.

  "Nearly a week; but I've not been out before. My aunt has been ill,"she explained.

  "Then you live in the country, I suppose?"

  "Yes, I have lived in Warwickshire, but my home lately has been inFrance."

  "In France!" I exclaimed, surprised. "Where?"

  "At Montgeron, not far from Paris."

  "And you have come to London on a visit?"

  "No. I have come to live here," she replied; adding, "It is absurd thatthe first evening I go out I am so utterly lost. I know my way aboutParis quite well."

  "But Paris is not London," I said. "The suburbs of our metropolis areveritable Saharas, with their miles and miles of streets where thehouses are exactly similar, as if the jerry-builders had not two ideasof architecture."

  It certainly was extraordinary that none of the thoroughfares which Ihad named gave her any clue to this remote street in which was situatedher temporary home. She read down the names of the occupiers of thehouses, but could not find her aunt's name. True, there were someomissions, as there always are, and I began to fear that the Directorywould not help us.

  On turning over the page, however, I saw in italics: "_Ellerdale Road.See Hampstead_."

  "Ah!" I cried, "there is another; but it's Ellerdale Road," and after afew moments' eager search I discovered it. "This road runs fromFitzjohn's Avenue to Arkwright Road in Frognal. Have you ever heard ofthem before?"

  It was really remarkable that a young girl should thus be so utterlylost in London. I, a man-about-town, knew the West End as I knew theway
around my own chambers; and I thought I knew London; but now, onreflection, saw how utterly ignorant I was of the great world which liesbeyond those few thoroughfares wherein are situated the theatres, theclubs, and the houses of the wealthy. For the bachelor who lives thelife of London the world revolves around Piccadilly Circus.

  My pretty companion stood puzzled. It was apparent that she had neverheard of any of the thoroughfares I had mentioned, yet it was equallyextraordinary that any persons living in London should be entirelyignorant of the district in which they resided.

  "The thoroughfare in Hampstead is Ellerdale Road, while that in Lewishamis