The Spider. Fergus Hume

which no one can discover. He then writes to this or that person and threatens unless a certain sum of money is paid to publish the secret by means of postcards sent to the private address and sometimes to the club of his victim. Of course, there is no combating this mode of procedure, so most people pay quietly, although some have kicked."

      "Why isn't the reptile arrested when he comes for his money? Tell me that, sir. Tell me that."

      "Sometimes the money is sent to a given address, and at other times The Spider, masked and cloaked, meets his victim personally. He is not arrested because he always tells his victim that if the police are brought into the question, and he is jailed, the especial secret will be published all the same to the world by a hidden accomplice by means of postcards. So you can see, Mr. Dimsdale, that if any person wishes his or her secret to be preserved they cannot risk an arrest. Still, I have been employed by one or two victims to learn the truth, and I have failed. I can't lay hands on The Spider, nor can any of the official detectives."

      Mr. Dimsdale nodded. "He's a clever animal," said he grimly. "You have described his mode of procedure extremely well, my boy. It's just the way in which he is tormenting Emily."

      "Mrs. Bedge. Is he blackmailing her?"

      "Of course he is. Don't I tell you so?" said Dimsdale crossly. "She asked me to come and see her yesterday, and showed me three letters, with the figure of a spider at the foot of the writing. The reptile wants five thousand pounds, else he will send cards to her private address and to her friends stating that Constantine is her illegitimate son."

      "What?" Vernon leaped from his chair aghast.

      "Of course, it's an infernal lie," said Dimsdale warmly. "Emily is a good woman, even though she jilted me to marry a man old enough to be her father. She was true to him; I swear she was true to him, and simply adopted the son of his partner Maunders--his real name was Constantine Mavrocordato--because the boy's father and mother were dead."

      "There is no grounds for this assertion on the part of The Spider?"

      "Absolutely none. Confound it, sir, you know Emily," raged Dimsdale. "Can you know her and doubt for a moment but that this viper has made a most iniquitous accusation? She has the boy's certificate of birth, and can prove the truth, and moreover can call evidence on the part of friends who knew about the adoption when it took place. But you know that mud sticks, Arthur, however innocent a person may be. Emily simply can't stand up against this blackguard attempt. If she refuses to send the five thousand pounds to the address given within a fortnight, The Spider says he will send cards making his lying assertion to all her friends. Even if she rebutted it--as she can--there would always be shrugged shoulders and raised eyebrows and cold looks, and no-smoke-without-fire remarks."

      "True!" Vernon looked thoughtfully at his cigar tip. "Plenty of innocent people do not care to face publicity on that account. Human nature is so prone to believe the worst, even in the face of the very plainest evidence. What does Mrs. Bedge propose to do?"

      "She wanted to send the money, but I suggested that she should let me place the matter in your hands."

      "Thank you. I'll do my best. But it's a difficult case, as The Spider is so hard to find."

      "On this occasion I don't think he will be," said Dimsdale with grim humour, "since I propose to work with you."

      "I don't understand----"

      "Don't I speak plainly?" asked Dimsdale tartly. "I said there were two cases, didn't I? Answer me, sir; answer me?"

      "Yes, but----"

      "There is no but about the matter, Arthur. I shall make a full explanation after I have asked a simple question."

      "And the question?"

      "You see, don't you, how this information places Maunders, young beast, in your power?"

      "No, I don't," answered Vernon very plainly and somewhat aggressively; "if you mean that I am to use my knowledge of his falsely being accused of illegitimacy as a threat to keep him from worrying me into a partnership."

      "I don't mean that in the least," cried Dimsdale warmly. "Confound you, sir, would you make me out to be no better than this spider reptile. What I mean is that you can say to Maunders that you will receive him into partnership if he hunts down The Spider and clears the character of his adopted mother. Not that Emily's character requires clearing in my eyes, mind you. But we must consider the limitations of human nature, my boy, and place Emily, like Cæsar's wife, above suspicion. Now do you understand? Eh, what? Reply, sir."

      Arthur nodded. "I understand. And if Maunders hunts down The Spider he will be worth engaging as a partner."

      "No, I don't mean that. But you are setting him to achieve an impossibility, and unless he fulfils your wish he cannot hope to be a partner. In the meantime, you and I hunt down The Spider. Then when we have him jailed, Maunders, not having done what you asked of him, can't expect to become a partner."

      "I think he will in any case?" said Vernon grimly.

      "I think not, sir," said Dimsdale very distinctly. "Of course, Emily is all right, and this blackmailing accusation is a lie. All the same, Maunders, who is anxious to secure a position in Society and marry Ida--confound him, he never shall with my consent--will not wish the slightest breath of his being a possible natural child to get about."

      "I should say nothing," said Vernon stiffly.

      "Quite so. I never expected you would. But the mere probability of the business becoming known will make Maunders careful. He won't worry you again, as, judging you by his own iniquitous self, he will think you capable of betraying him. _Now_ can you see?"

      "Yes. But Constantine knows that I would never speak."

      "I daresay, because he thinks the bribe isn't enough. He believes as Peel did--or Walpole was it?--that every man has his price. He won't worry you, I tell you, if you give the merest hint to him of the matter. Not that you need to, for he will know about this blackmailing letter to-morrow."

      Vernon recalled how Maunders had said that his aunt had detained him, and how he had suggested that she had something on her mind. "He doesn't know it at present, anyhow."

      "No. Emily saw me before speaking to him. However, listen to the scheme I have in my mind to catch this Spider wretch. He is trying to blackmail me."

      "Oh!" Vernon sat up and laughed. "How ridiculous. You of all men cannot be blackmailed, since your life is so open."

      "No man's life is open," said Dimsdale drily; "and mine has its dark pages as everyone else's has. I have a secret; not a particularly bad one, it is true. Still, one that I should prefer to keep to myself."

      "What is it?"

      "I shan't tell you or any man," snapped the ex-police commissioner. "It is sufficient to say that it is not a very bad secret, and that even if it were told to the world it would matter little. However, The Spider--hang him, I think he must have some acquaintance with my life in the East--has learned something I thought no one but myself knew anything about. He asks one thousand pounds, which is moderate compared with his demand on Emily. Shows that he knows my secret isn't so very deadly, or it would be worth more."

      "Did he write to you?" asked Vernon alertly. "Of course he did, making the usual threat of exposure by postcards to self and friends. Now I am going to consent to his demands."

      "And pay the money?"

      "I didn't say that," corrected Dimsdale sharply, "but I am writing asking him to meet me in my library, and receive the money; also for him to hand over any documents to me which even hint at my secret. When he comes, you can be concealed in the room and we'll take him in charge."

      "But then your secret will become known," objected Vernon. "The Spider always provides against arrest by leaving the evidence in the hands of others to publish."

      "He can publish what he likes about me," said Mr. Dimsdale coolly; "don't I tell you that the secret is of little value. The Spider in his letter to me embroidered