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Updated: June 11, 2025
Of course it was Jack o' Judgment. I tell you, the night you were in Yorkshire making a mess of that Crotin business, Jack o' Judgment came here, to this very room, and told me that he would ruin us one by one, and that he would leave me to the last. He mentioned us all you, Crewe, Selby " He stopped suddenly and scratched his chin. "But not Lollie Marsh," he said.
Crotin knows him, and the moment he puts in an appearance, as likely as not Crotin would lose his head and give the whole show away. It is you or nobody." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You know, there are times when I'm sorry about Solomon White," he said, "he was the boy for this kind of business that is to say in the old days he got a bit above himself towards the end."
Crotin had spent many sleepless nights since he came back from London, nights full of terror, that left him a wreck to meet the fears of the days which followed. He lived all the time in the shadow of vengeful justice and exaggerated his danger to an incredible degree; perhaps it was in anticipating what his wife would say that he experienced the most poignant misery.
"Well, you've got me properly taped," he said admiringly, and the colonel agreed with a gesture. "So you're interested in the criminal classes?" Mr. Crotin waved a protesting hand. "I'm not saying you're a member of the criminal classes, colonel," he said. "My friend Crewe here wouldn't think I would be so rude. Of course, I know the charge was all wrong."
Take Crotin," he said. "I dare say he's feeling sore, and maybe this damned Jack o' Judgment person is standing behind him telling him " He stopped. "No, he wouldn't either," he said after a moment's thought, "Jack o' Judgment knows as much about it as I do." "What are you talking about?" asked the other impatiently. "Crotin," said the colonel; "he hasn't any evidence against me.
Pinto was to find that the colonel had made all arrangements, and that for the previous two days he had been planning a predatory raid on the Yorkshireman. There was to be a bazaar in Huddersfield on behalf of a local hospital, in which Lady Sybil Crotin took a great interest. She was organising the fête and had invited subscriptions.
"Who is it?" asked the colonel. The door opened slowly. A gloved hand, and then a white, hooded face, slipped through the narrow entry. "Jack o' Judgment! Poor old Jack o' Judgment come to make a call," chuckled the hateful voice. "Down, dog; down!" He flourished the long-barrelled revolver theatrically, then turned with a chuckle of laughter to the gaping Mr. Crotin.
Do you know, I wondered whether you were here too, and I looked everywhere for you, but apparently there was nobody in sight when Pinto came out with Lady Sybil, only a soldier." "I was that soldier," said Stafford. "I discovered where Mr. Crotin lived and came up later," she went on.
"Rest nothing," said the colonel testily, "you're scared because you imagine Crotin is warned? What do you think?" Pinto was silent. "I suppose you think that, because Jack o' Judgment intervened at the right moment, he went back to Yorkshire feeling full of himself? Well, you're wrong. You don't understand one side of the psychology of this business.
"I'll be glad to meet him. How has the sale been, love?" "Very good indeed," she replied; "splendid, in fact thanks to Mr. de Silva." John Crotin was dressing when his wife returned, and it was not until half an hour later that he met Pinto Silva for the first time. Pinto was a man who dressed well and looked well.
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