So Theodore had no alternative
but to accept the suggestion. To prove his identity was, of course,
the work of only a few minutes, after which Racksole, annoyed,
but cool as ever, returned to his railings, while the policeman went
off to another part of his beat, where he would be likely to meet a
comrade and have a chat.
In the meantime, our friend Jules, sublimely unconscious of the
altercation going on outside, and of the special risk which he ran,
was of course actually in the cellar, which he had reached before
Racksole got to the railings for the first time. It was, indeed, a
happy chance for Jules that his exit from the cellar coincided with
the period during which Racksole was absent from the railings. As
Racksole came down the lane for the second time, he saw a figure
walking about fifty yards in front of him towards the Embankment.
Instantly he divined that it was Jules, and that the policeman had
thrown him just too late. He ran, and Jules, hearing the noise of
pursuit, ran also. The ex-waiter was fleet; he made direct for a
certain spot in the Embankment wall, and, to the intense
astonishment of Racksole, jumped clean over the wall, as it
seemed, into the river. 'Is he so desperate as to commit suicide?'
Racksole exclaimed as he ran, but a second later the puff and snort
of a steam launch told him that Jules was not quite driven to
suicide. As the millionaire crossed the Embankment roadway he
saw the funnel of the launch move out from under the river-wall.
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