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Updated: May 9, 2025
They moved rapidly toward the elevator-shaft, passing on their way deserted cigar- and news-stands shrouded in dirty brown clothes. Anisty opened the interview brusquely. "Is Mr. Bannerman in now?" he demanded.
"Handsome Dan," he iterated all but mechanically. "Why do you call me that, please? Have we met before? I could swear, never before this night!" "But you are altogether too modest," she laughed. "Not that it's a bad trait in the character of a professional.... But really! it seems a bit incredible that any one so widely advertised as Handsome Dan Anisty should feel surprise at being recognized.
In the course of an hour or so his charge began to choke, or pretended to. Higgins became alarmed and removed the gag. Anisty lay quiet until his face resumed its normal color and then began to abuse Higgins for a thick-headed idiot." Mr. Snaith interrupted himself to chuckle lightly. "You noticed a resemblance?" he resumed. Maitland, too, was smiling. "Something of the sort."
It was with a shock that he comprehended this, a thrill of wonder. He had all but forgotten that Bannerman owned an office in the building, in the rush, the urge of this wild adventure. Strange that Anisty should have chosen it for the scene of his last stand, strange, and strangely fatal for the criminal!
If he could have read her mind, have seen behind the film of thought that clouded her eyes, one fears Mr. Anisty might have lost appetite for an excellent luncheon. For she was studying his hands, her memory harking back to the moment when she had stood beside the safe, holding the bull's-eye.... In the blackness of that hour a disk of light shone out luridly against the tapestry of memory.
And eyes! beautiful always, but never more so than at this moment, when filled with sweetly pensive contemplation.... Was she reviewing the last twenty-four hours, dreaming of what had passed between her and that silly fool, Maitland? If only Anisty could surmise what they had said to each other, how long they had been acquainted; if only she would give him a hint, a leading word!...
We can talk this matter over at our leisure. What do you say to Eugene's? It's handy, and I dare say we can find a quiet corner. By the way, have you the time concealed about your person?" Anisty was fumbling in his fob-pocket and inwardly cursing himself for having been such an ass as to overlook Maitland's timepiece. "Deuced awkward!" he muttered in genuine annoyance. "I've mislaid my watch."
"What is it," she said presently, with some effort "what is it you wish with me?" "I have my purpose," with a grim smile. "You will not tell me?" "You've guessed it, my lady; I will not just yet. Wait a bit." She spurred her flagging spirit until it flashed defiance. "Mr. Anisty!" "Yes?" he responded with a curling lip, cold eyes to hers. "I demand " "No you don't!" he cut her short with a snarl.
Unfortunately for her, this fellow Anisty had interfered. Maitland presumed cynically that he ought to be grateful to Anisty.... The unaccountable scoundrel! Why had he returned? How the girl had contrived to escape was, of course, more easy to understand.
Years afterwards, he and Sir Charles Slingsby and a number of the members of the York and Anisty Hunt were crossing the Ouse in a ferryboat, when some of the horses were seized with panic, and the boat was upset. Sir Charles Slingsby and a number of others twelve, I believe, in all were drowned, Wombwell being one of the few who escaped.
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