# The Bartenstein Case/Chapter 7

CHAPTER II
STORY OF THE LAME YOUNG MAN
There now came into the Inspector's room a young man whose appearance was somewhat striking—that is, so far as his head and face were concerned. His head was more than usually large and well shaped, and was covered by a mass of thick and very black, curling hair which framed a lofty and broad forehead, which was of an ivory whiteness. The face beneath it was of the same pallor; the features were finely cut and intellectual, but there was small sign of life in them except in the eyes, which were as dark as the hair, and unusually bright and piercing. As for the rest of this young man, it was plain to see that he had been much afflicted from birth, for he had a decided hump between his shoulders, was very stunted in his growth, and suffered still further from a shortness in his left leg, which necessitated his using a boot to which a sole of at least eight inches in thickness had been affixed. He was plainly but well dressed, and had the appearance of a person of education.
This young man, coming with the limp ​characteristic of his infirmity across the room, and supporting himself by the help of a stout walking-stick, made a polite bow to the Inspector seated at his desk, and then glanced at Lauderdale.
"Good evening, sir," said the Inspector. "I understand that you can give me some information about the sword-stick which is mentioned in the newspaper accounts of the Bartenstein case? You may speak freely before this gentleman; as a matter of fact, he is directly concerned in the case. Take a chair, sir."
The lame young man took the chair which Inspector Dwayne pointed out, and regarded Lauderdale attentively.
"If I am not mistaken, sir," he said presently, "you are the gentleman whose appearance is described in the evening newspapers?"
"Quite so," answered Lauderdale, smiling. "That shows how accurate the description is."
The new-comer regarded him still more attentively.
"Well, sir," he said, "I pride myself on being something of a physiognomist, and I am very sure that you are no murderer. If you are under suspicion of this crime, I hope that what I can tell may be of service in establishing your innocence."
"Thank you," said Lauderdale.
"The question is, however, what you can tell, Mr.——— I do not know your name," said the Inspector.
​"My name, sir," answered the lame young man, "is Albany Hasleton, and I live in Upper Berkeley Street, which, as you know, is near the Marble Arch."
"You have no objection to my making a note of that, Mr Hasleton?" asked the Inspector.
"None at all, sir, nor of anything that I tell you," replied Mr. Hasleton. "That is what I came here for. What I have to tell you is that I believe, nay, am firmly convinced, that the sword-stick which is described in the newspapers as having been found in Mr Bartenstein's study, was for a short while in my possession some little time ago. I say I am firmly convinced—if I could see the sword-stick I could be absolutely positive."
Inspector Dwayne considered this statement a moment; then he went over to the cupboard in which he had placed the stick and, taking it out again, handed it to Mr. Hasleton who, at the mere sight of it, nodded his head emphatically.
"Yes," he said, "that is the very sword-stick, without doubt."
He placed the stick on the Inspector's desk; the Inspector sat down again to his note-book.
"If you will permit me," continued Mr. Hasleton, "I will tell you the story in my own fashion, and if I seem to be a little prolix it is simply because I am unused to these matters, and if I am to be clear must begin from a beginning. You observe, gentlemen, that it did not please Providence to favour me with its usual ​gifts nor, in truth, with over good health—I am, indeed, for some part of the year pretty much of an invalid, and never at any time very robust. I am thankful to say, however, that I possess a competency which is more than sufficient for my needs, and I am comfortably lodged where I am, and with my books, my pictures, and my piano, I spend a very pleasant existence."
The Inspector here murmured a species of congratulation on the good fortune of his visitor.
"Naturally," continued Mr. Hasleton, "it is impossible for one situated as I am to go much abroad, and I spend most of my time in my rooms. But every morning, unless the weather is unfavourable, I walk into the Park, and occasionally, if the day is unusually fine and I am feeling very well in health, I extend my ramble as far as Kensington Gardens—where, sir," he added with a bow and a smile to Lauderdale, "I believe, if I may say so without offence, I saw you pass me but yesterday morning."
Lauderdale, who was as much amused by the lame young man's quaintness of speech and old-fashioned manner as the Inspector was fretful of what seemed to threaten long-windedness on his part, nodded his head without replying.
"Well, gentlemen, about three weeks since," Mr. Hasleton went on, "I had gone out for my morning walk, and about half-way between noon and one o'clock—I always dine at half past that hour—I was sitting on one of the chairs in the Park in a quiet spot (to be precise, it was under ​one of the trees near the Police Barracks), when a tidily attired but obviously poor man came up to me, carrying a lengthy object which was wrapped up in a much crumpled newspaper. He looked at me questioningly, hesitated, and, finally approaching me, asked me if I would like to buy a fine walking-stick. I answered that I was already possessed of several walking-sticks and had no desire to acquire more.
"'Yes, sir,' said he, 'but you don't often get the chance of buying a stick like this. Allow me to show it to you.'
"'You may show it to me if you choose,' said I, 'but you are not to suppose that I am encouraging you to do so.'
"However, this seemed encouragement enough for him, for he immediately unwrapped the stick which lies there on your table, Inspector, and handed it to me. And naturally I was very much struck by its beauty, by the old silver knob, and by the half-worn-out inscription.
"'This is a beautiful stick,' I said. 'Why do you wish to sell it?'
"He thereupon gave me a long and somewhat wearisome account—you know how apt some people are to spin their stories out———"
"Yes, indeed, sir," said the Inspector feelingly.
"—a long and wearisome account," continued the story-teller, "of his having come down in the world and being obliged to sell the few little treasures which he possessed. He was out of work and had a wife and family to support, or ​he would not have parted with the stick, which had been his father's. He had come out that morning to try to sell it privately as they at home were really wanting bread.
"'You would do far better to go to a dealer,' I said.
"He shook his head at that and said that he respectfully begged to differ from me. Dealers, he said, beat a poor man down shamefully—he spoke with bitter experience.
"Well, gentlemen, as I am a little of a collector, and as the sword-stick is very handsome, I finally consented to purchase it, and I secured it for a sovereign, with which the man seemed very pleased. He hurried away at a great rate, saying that now he would be able to purchase some dinner for his starving family—and that reminding me of my own, I carried the sword-stick home to my rooms and put it in a corner."
Inspector Dwayne boiled all this down into a brief note to the effect that Mr. Albany Hasleton bought the sword-stick for the sum of one pound from an unknown man in Hyde Park on or about 28th May, 1908.
"Well, Mr. Hasleton," he said, "how long did the stick remain in your possession? But tell it your own way, sir, tell it your own way."
"Well," resumed Mr. Hasleton, "I admired the stick greatly, and purposed to keep it, though I already have some sticks with associations, and notably one which is said to have belonged to the great Duke of Wellington. But ​one morning I had some business in Mortimer Street—I was going there, in fact, to look at some old china to which I had a mind—and I took my latest acquisition with me, more, I think, from vanity than from anything else, for I purposed strolling down Regent Street after finishing my business, and thought it would become me. Now there are, as you know, gentlemen, several curio shops in Mortimer Street, and I was so much fascinated by their contents that I lingered in several of them. And in one, the proprietor of which is known to me, Mr. Aaron Abrahams, a very worthy person, I laid the stick on the counter while I examined a very remarkable piece of Wedgwood which I had some idea of purchasing. Mr. Abrahams picked it up.
"'That's a beautiful cane, Mr. Hasleton,' he said. 'Where did you find such a fine work?'
"I was not minded to tell him all that I have told you, so I merely observed that I had picked it up, and that I agreed with him in his estimate of the workmanship.
"'You wouldn't like to sell this, I suppose, Mr. Hasleton?' he said. 'I don't suppose it's got any historical value like your Wellington stick, but I happen to have a customer who has a taste for this sort of thing, and I know he'd like it.'
"'No,' I replied, 'I don't know that I should, Mr. Abrahams.'
"'Well, I'll tell you what,' said he. 'The ​last time you were here you admired those two bits of Sheffield plate there, and I offered them to you for six guineas, but you said you'd already spent all you meant to spend this quarter. Now, I'll speak fair by you—I'll give you the two pieces for this stick. What do you say?"
"'That you see your way to some very profitable deal, Mr. Abrahams,' I replied.
"'No,' he answered, 'it isn't that. I shall make a profit, naturally, but not a great one. I know exactly what the old gentleman will give. My actual profit on the transaction will be under three pounds, Mr. Hasleton.'
"Well, gentlemen, I considered this proposal while I affected to examine the Wedgwood. Now, I much admired the two pieces of Sheffield plate, and desired to possess them, and as I had only given a pound for the sword-stick, and beyond its beauty had no great affection for it, and, moreover, already possessed many interesting sticks, I accepted Mr. Abraham's offer. I handed him the sword-stick and he handed me the Sheffield plate. This obliged me to send his shop-boy out to purchase me a stout staff, for owing to my infirmity I cannot walk without one, but that is neither here nor there. And that, gentlemen, is all that I can tell you as regards my connection with this strange matter."
Inspector Dwayne, who secretly considered all this as one of the strangest affairs in which he had ever been concerned, was pondering over certain things in Mr. Hasleton's statement, when ​the official who had announced that young gentleman's arrival entered the room again, and again made a whispered communication to him. The Inspector uttered an exclamation.
"Upon my honour," he said, "I shall believe this stick is bewitched! Here is another gentleman with something to say about it. A Spanish gentleman. Of course, the stick was brought from Spain. Show him in, Wilson."