Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

The Mystery of M. Felix


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and I've got some more in it. What do I make of you? Oh, I knows what you are. You can't gammon me.'

      "'What am I?'

      "'You belong to the Perlice Noos, that's what you do. You've come to make pickchers. Pickcher of the 'ouse where the body was found. Pickcher of the room where the body was laid. Pickcher of the body's bed. Pickcher of the body's slippers. Pickcher of Mrs. Middlemore, the body's 'ousekeeper. Oh, I say, make a pickcher of me, will you? I'll buy a copy.'

      "'Perhaps, if you're good. But you must answer a question or two first.'

      "'All serene. Fire away!'

      "'You went upstairs last night with your aunt after you had your supper?'

      "'Yes, I did.'

      "'You did not go into the rooms?'

      "'No, I didn't.'

      "'Because you were frightened?'

      "'Gammon! It'd take more than that to frighten Sophy.' She added, with a sly look, 'Aunty's easily kidded, she is.'

      "'Ah,' said reporter, somewhat mystified, 'then you came down and went to bed?'

      "'Yes, I did, and precious glad to get there.'

      "'You like your bed, Sophy?'

      "'Rather.'

      "'And you sleep well?'

      "'You bet!'

      "'Did you sleep better or worse than usual last night?'

      "'No better, and no wus.'

      "'Did you wake up in the night?'

      "'Not me!'

      "'Then you heard no noise?'

      "'Where?'

      "'Anywhere.'

      "'I didn't 'ear nothink. 'Ow could I?'

      "'Thank you, Sophy. That is all for the present.'

      "'I say,' cried Sophy, as our reporter was about to leave the kitchen, 'you'll take my pickcher, won't you?'

      "'I'll think about it. I'll see you another time, Sophy; and look here,' added our reporter, who is never known to throw a chance away, 'here's my card; take care of it, and if you find out anything that you think I'd like to know about M. Felix, come and tell me, and you shall be well paid for it. You'll not forget?'

      "'No, I won't forgit. Anythink about M. Felix, do you mean?'

      "'Yes, anything.'

      "'All right, old 'un. I'll choo it over.' Here Sophy dropped her voice, and asked, 'Is Aunt outside?'

      "'Yes. Can you keep a secret?'

      "'Try me,' said Sophy, holding out the little finger of her left hand.

      "'What am I to do with this?'

      "'Pinch my nail as 'ard as you can. Never mind 'urting me. As 'ard as ever you can.

      "Our reporter complied, and Sophy went audibly through the entire alphabet, from A to Y Z.

      "'There,' said Sophy, 'did I scream when I came to O?'

      "'You did not,' said our reporter, remembering the child's game. 'You bore it like a brick.'

      "'Don't that show I can keep a secret?'

      "'It does. Well, then, don't tell your aunt that I gave you my card, or asked you to come and see me.'

      "'I'm fly.'

      "Giving him a friendly wink, Sophy went on her knees, and made a pretence of being very hard at work cleaning the grate. The last words he heard were:

      "'Pickcher of Sophy wearin' 'erself to skin and bone. Ain't I busy?'"

      CHAPTER X.

      OUR REPORTER GIVES MRS. MIDDLEMORE SOME SENSIBLE ADVICE

      "Rejoining Mrs. Middlemore, our reporter informed her that he was satisfied that Sophy had heard nothing in the night.

      "'Of course she didn't,' said Mrs. Middlemore. 'Once she's in bed she lays like a log.'

      "'She's a sharp little thing,' observed our reporter.

      "'Sharp ain't the word, sir. What's going to be the end of her is more than I can fathom.'

      "'Has she a mother?'

      "'No.'

      "'Father?'

      "'If he can be called one. Drunk half his time, in trouble the other half.'

      "'So that poor Sophy has to look after herself?'

      "'Pretty well. She does odd jobs, and picks up a bit 'ere and a bit there. When M. Felix first come to live 'ere I'd made up my mind to 'ave 'er altogether with me, though she'd 'ave worrited the life out of me, I know she would; but he wouldn't let me 'ave nobody in the house but 'im, and wouldn't let nobody sleep in it a single night, so I 'ad to disappoint the child. I did take 'er in once or twice when she came round to me almost black and bloo with the way 'er brute of a father had served 'er, but I 'ad to be careful that M. Felix shouldn't see 'er-smuggling 'er into the kitchen when he was away, and letting 'er out very early in the morning-or I should never 'ave 'eard the last of it.'

      "'You are the only friend the girl has, it seems?'

      "'She ain't got many more.'

      "'Mind what I tell you, Mrs. Middlemore,' said our reporter, with the kindest intentions, 'there's capital stuff in Sophy. Now that M. Felix is gone it would be a charity to adopt her, if you haven't any of your own.'

      "'I ain't got none of my own,' said Mrs. Middlemore, shaking her head dubiously, 'but since I arksed 'er whether she'd like to live with me, and she said she would, she's got into ways that I don't think I could abide. You see, sir, she wasn't so old then, and I might 'ave moulded her. I don't know as I could do it now.'

      "'What ways do you refer to?'

      "'Well, sir, I've seen her selling papers in the streets-'

      "'That's not a crime,' interposed our reporter; 'especially if she does it for food.'

      "'If you won't mind my saying so,' said Mrs. Middlemore, with considerable dignity, 'I consider it low; but that's not so bad as selling matches, which is next door to begging.'

      "'But she doesn't beg?'

      "'No, I don't think she goes as low as that.'

      "'Nor steal?'

      "'No,' replied Mrs. Middlemore, with spirit, 'she'll take anything that's give to her, but's as honest as the sun, I'll say that of her.'

      "'All that you've told me of Sophy, Mrs. Middlemore, is in her favor, and I have already a sneaking regard for her.'

      "'Lord, sir!' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, misconstruing the sentiment, 'and you the gentleman that you are!'

      "'Yes,' repeated our reporter, complacently, 'a sneaking regard for her. Hawking papers and matches is not the loftiest occupation, but it is a form of commerce; and commerce, my dear madam, has made England what it is.'

      "It was not entirely without a selfish motive, although he was favorably disposed toward the poor waif, that our reporter wandered for a few moments from the engrossing subject of M. Felix's disappearance to the less eventful consideration of Sophy's welfare. By one of those processes of intuition which come to observant men by inspiration, as it were, he was impressed with the idea that Sophy might be useful to him and to us in the elucidation of the mystery concerning M. Felix. We will not weaken the interest of what is to follow by divulging whether this idea was or was not justified by results; our readers will be able to judge for themselves later on. His views regarding Sophy had their weight with Mrs. Middlemore.

      "'I mean to keep Sophy with me,' said that lady, 'for a little while at all events, and if she'll only keep away from the theaytres I'll do what I can for 'er.'

      "'Does she frequent theatres?'

      "'Does she?' exclaimed Mrs. Middlemore, and immediately answered herself after a favorite fashion with certain of her class. 'Doesn't she? Why she saves every copper she can get to go to the galleries,