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diff --git a/43288-0.txt b/43288-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f1e8c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/43288-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11389 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43288 *** + + THE THIRD VOLUME + + + + + THE THIRD VOLUME + + BY + FERGUS HUME + _Author of "The Lone Inn," "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," + "The Chinese Jar," Etc._ + + NEW YORK + THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. + 31 EAST 17TH STREET (UNION SQUARE) + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY + FERGUS HUME. + + COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY + THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. + + _All rights reserved._ + + THE MERSHON COMPANY PRESS, + RAHWAY, N. J. + + + + + Oh, mothers, wisely sang ye, + When oft we went astray, + "Ye weave the ropes to hang ye, + Ye forge the swords to slay." + + The ropes we wove so gladly, + Have robbed us of our breath, + The swords we forged so madly, + Have smitten us to death. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. AN OLD FRIEND, 1 + + II. A MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION, 10 + + III. THE REVELATION OF FRANCIS HILLISTON, 19 + + IV. WHAT OCCURRED AT HORRISTON, 27 + + V. A STRANGE COINCIDENCE, 37 + + VI. TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION, 45 + + VII. "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE," 52 + + VIII. BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION, 61 + + IX. MRS. BEZEL, 67 + + X. A FEW FACTS CONNECTED WITH THE CASE, 78 + + XI. A STARTLING DISCOVERY, 86 + + XII. REVELATIONS, 94 + + XIII. ON THE TRACK, 102 + + XIV. THE UPPER BOHEMIA, 109 + + XV. A POPULAR AUTHOR, 117 + + XVI. A FALSE MOVE, 124 + + XVII. THE HUSBAND AT KENSINGTON GORE, 131 + + XVIII. A DUEL OF WORDS, 138 + + XIX. TAIT BRINGS NEWS, 147 + + XX. A PRÉCIS OF THE CASE, 154 + + XXI. THORSTON, 160 + + XXII. IN THE CHURCH, 168 + + XXIII. FACT AND FICTION, 175 + + XXIV. A NEW SUSPICION, 182 + + XXV. THE RECLUSE, 192 + + XXVI. AN OLD SERVANT, 200 + + XXVII. A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST, 210 + + XXVIII. PREPARING THE GROUND, 220 + + XXIX. KERRY, 228 + + XXX. MRS. BEZEL AGAIN, 235 + + XXXI. AN EVENING AT THE VICARAGE, 241 + + XXXII. THE DISCOVERIES OF SPENSER TAIT, 249 + + XXXIII. THE STORY OF THE MAD GARDENER, 258 + + XXXIV. A LETTER FROM HORRISTON, 268 + + XXXV. THE ORIGINAL OF THE PORTRAIT, 275 + + XXXVI. A STRANGE THING HAPPENS, 282 + + XXXVII. A VOICE FROM THE DEAD, 290 + + XXXVIII. A NEW ASPECT OF THINGS, 299 + + XXXIX. THE GARNET SCARFPIN, 306 + + XL. FACE TO FACE, 314 + + XLI. AN EXPLANATION, 321 + + XLII. THE TRAGEDY OF A WOMAN'S VANITY, 329 + + XLIII. THE LAST APPEARANCE OF FRANCIS HILLISTON, 336 + + XLIV. THE TRUTH, 343 + + XLV. A FEW WORDS BY SPENSER TAIT, 351 + + + + + THE THIRD VOLUME. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + AN OLD FRIEND. + + +WHEN Spenser Tait took his seat at the breakfast table, he cast a look +around, according to custom, to see that all was as orderly as he could +wish. The neatest and most methodical of men, he was positively old +maidish in his love of regularity and tidiness. His valet, Dormer,--with +him for over fifteen years,--had been trained by such long service into +the particular ways of his master, and was almost as exacting as Tait +himself in the matter of domestic details. No woman was permitted to +penetrate into those chambers in Earls Street, St. James'; but had one +been able to do so, she could have found no fault with them, either on +the score of taste or of cleanliness. The shell of this hermit crab was +eloquent of the idiosyncrasies of its tenant. + +The main characteristic of the breakfast room was one of severe +simplicity. The carpet of green drappled brown, the curtains to match, +and the furniture of oak, polished and dark. On the white cloth of the +table an appetizing breakfast was set out in silver and china, and a +vase of flowers showed that the little gentleman was not unmindful of +the requirements of an artistic temperament. Even the _Times_, carefully +cut and warmed, was neatly folded by the silver ringed napkin, and +Dormer, standing stiff and lean by his master's chair, was calmly +satisfied that no fault could be found with his work. For the past +fifteen years, save on occasions of foreign travel, the same etiquette +had been observed, the same actions performed, for, like the laws of the +Medes and Persians, the habits of Tait were fixed and determined. + +He was a pleasant creature of thirty-four years, small in stature, +clean-shaven and brown-locked. His plump little body was clothed in a +well-brushed smoking suit of maroon-colored cloth, his neat feet encased +in slippers of red morocco, and he scanned the room through a +gold-mounted pince nez. Neat and firm as he was, women did not care for +him in the least, and he returned the compliment by heartily disliking +the female sex. Yet with men he was a great favorite, and the members of +his club liked to hear the sententious speeches of this little man, +delivered with point and deliberation in the smoking room from eleven +till midnight. When the clock struck twelve he invariably went to bed, +and no persuasion or temptation could induce him to break this excellent +rule. + +Dormer, a tall, thin man of Kent, who adored his precise master, was +equally as misogynistic as Tait, and silent on all occasions save when +spoken to. Then he replied in dry monosyllables, and stood bolt upright +during such replies, in a military fashion, which he had picked up many +years before in the army. Tait humored his oddities on account of his +fidelity, knowing that this ugly, rough-hewn specimen of humanity was as +true as steel, and entirely devoted to his interests. Nowadays it is +unusual to meet with such equal appreciation between master and servant. + +"I think, Dormer," said Tait, while the man ministered to his wants, +"that you might call at Mudie's this morning and get me a copy of the +new novel, 'A Whim of Fate,' by John Parver. I heard last night that it +contained a description of Thorston." + +"Very good, sir," replied Dormer, noting the name in his pocketbook. + +"And take a seat for me at the Curtain Theater, in the fifth row of the +stalls, not too near the side." + +"Anything else, sir?" + +"I think not," said his master, taking a morsel of toast. "I am going +down to Richmond by the twelve o'clock train to luncheon with Mr. Freak. +Lay out the serge suit." + +Dormer saluted in a military fashion, and disappeared, leaving Tait to +skim the paper and finish his breakfast. Methodical as ever, the little +man first read the leading articles, thence passed to the city news, +perused the general information, and wound up with a glance at the +advertisements. In such order he ever proceeded, and never by any chance +thought of beginning with the advertisements and working back to the +leading article. Habit was everything with Spenser Tait. + +As usual, his day's programme was carefully sketched out, and he knew +what he was about to do with every moment of his time from noon till +midnight. But his plans on this special day were upset at the outset, +for scarcely had he lighted his morning pipe than the door was thrown +open and a visitor was announced. + +"Mr. Larcher," said Dormer stiffly, and ushered in a tall young man with +a bright face and a breezy manner. + +"Hullo, little Tait!" cried the newcomer, hastily striding across the +room; "here I am again. Come from wandering up and down the earth, sir, +like a certain person whom I need not mention." + +"Dear me," said Tait, welcoming his guest with prim kindliness, "it is +Claude Larcher. I am very glad to see you, my dear fellow, and rather +surprised; for I assure you I thought you were at the Antipodes." + +"I have just returned from that quarter of the globe. Yes! Landed at the +docks yesterday from one of the Shaw-Saville line. Had a capital passage +from New Zealand. Sea like a mill-pond from Wellington Heads to the +Lizard." + +"Have you had breakfast, Larcher?" asked Tait, touching the bell. + +"A trifle! A trifle! I could eat another. What have you? Bacon and eggs, +watercress, coffee, and the best of bread and butter. Egad, Spenser, you +had the same victuals two years ago when I last called here!" + +"I am a creature of habit, Claude," replied Tait sententiously; and when +Dormer made his appearance gave grave directions for fresh coffee and +another dish of eggs and bacon. + +Larcher drew in his chair, and with his elbows on the table eyed the +little man with friendly eyes. They were old schoolfellows and fast +friends, though a greater contrast than that which existed between them +can scarcely be imagined. Tait, a prim, chilly misogynist; Larcher, a +hot-blooded, impetuous lover of women. The one a stay-at-home, and a +slave to habit; the other a roaming engineer, careless and impulsive. +Yet by some vein of sympathy the pair, so unlike in looks and +temperament, were exceedingly friendly, and always glad to meet when +circumstance threw them together. Such friendship, based on no logical +grounds, was a standing contradiction to the rule that like draws to +like. + +It was scarcely to be expected that a well-favored mortal like Larcher +should share his friend's distaste for the female sex. Far from +disliking them, he sought them on all possible occasions, oftentimes to +his own disadvantage; and was generally involved in some scrape +connected with a petticoat. Tait, who was the older of the two by five +years, vainly exhorted and warned his friend against such follies, but +as yet his arguments had come to naught. At the age of thirty, Larcher +was still as inflammable, and answered all Tait's expostulations with a +laugh of scorn. + +It was easy to dower this hero with all the perfections, physical or +mental, which lie within the scope of imagination, but the truth must be +told at whatever cost. Claude was no Greek god, no prodigy of learning, +neither an Apollo for looks, nor an Admirable Crichton for knowledge; he +was simply a well-looking young man, clean-limbed, clear-skinned, +healthy, athletic, and dauntless, such as can be found by the dozen in +England. Thews and sinews he had, but was no Samson or Hercules, yet his +strong frame and easy grace won the heart of many a woman, while with +his own sex he passed for a true comrade, and a friend worth having. + +He was an engineer, and built bridges and railways in divers quarters of +the globe, pioneering civilization, as it were, in the most barbarous +regions. + +For the past ten years he had roamed all over the world, and his +adventures, begotten by a daring and reckless spirit, were already +sufficient to fill a volume. Master of at least half a dozen tongues, he +could find his way from the tropics to the pole, and was equally at home +on the prairie as in Piccadilly. Indeed, he preferred the former, for +civilization was little to his taste, and he was infinitely more at ease +in Pekin than London. North and South America, Africa, China, India, he +knew them all, and on this occasion had returned from a prolonged +sojourn in the Antipodes, where he had been building bridges across +rapid New Zealand rivers. + +"Well, my friend," said he, addressing himself to a second meal with a +hearty appetite, "I need not ask how you are. The same prim, finnicking +little mortal as ever, I see. Five years have made no difference in you, +Spenser. You've not married, I suppose?" + +"Not I," returned Tait, with stormy disgust. "You know my views on the +subject of matrimony. You might go away for one hundred years and would +return to find me still a bachelor. But you, Claude----" + +"Oh, I'm still in the market. I wasn't rich enough for the New Zealand +belles." + +"Eh! You have five hundred a year, independent of your earnings as an +engineer." + +"What is the use of setting up house on a thousand a year all told," +retorted Claude coolly; "but the fact is, despite my inflammability, +which you are pleased to reproach, I have not yet seen the woman I care +to make Mrs. Larcher." + +"Perhaps it is just as well for the woman," answered Tait dryly. "I +don't think you are cut out for a domestic life." + +"I have had no experience of it, so I can't say," said Larcher, a shade +passing over his face. "You must not forget that I was left an orphan at +five years of age, Tait. If it had not been for old Hilliston, the +lawyer, who looked after me and my small fortune, I don't know what +would have become of me. All things considering, I think I have turned +out fairly decent. I have worked hard at my profession, I have not spent +my substance in riotous living, and have seen much more of life than +most young men. All of which is self-praise, and that we know being no +recommendation, give me another cup of coffee." + +Tait laughed and obeyed. "What are you going to do now?" he demanded, +after a pause; "stay in town, or make another dash for the wilds?" + +"I'll be here for a few months, till something turns up," said Larcher +carelessly. "I did very well out of that Maori land business, and bought +some land there with the proceeds. I suppose I'll go and look up Mr. +Hilliston, see all the theaters, worry you, and hunt for a wife." + +"I shan't assist you in the last," retorted Tait, testily. "However, as +you are here you must stay with me for the day. What are your immediate +plans?" + +"Oh, I wish to call at the club and see if there are any letters! Then I +am at your disposal, unless you have a prior engagement." + +"I have a luncheon at Richmond, but I'll put that off. It is not very +important, and a wire will arrange matters. Finish your breakfast while +I dress." + +"Go, you effete dandy of an exhausted civilization. I saw you looking at +my rig-out, and I dare say it is very bad. It has been packed away for +the last five years. However, you can take me to your tailor and I'll +get a fresh outfit. You won't walk down Bond Street with me unless I +assume a tall hat, patent leathers, and a frock coat." + +"Oh, by the way, would you like to go to the Curtain Theater to-night?" +asked Tait, vouchsafing no reply to this speech. "They are playing a +good piece, and I sent for a seat for myself." + +"You selfish little man; just send for two while you're about it." + +"With pleasure," replied Tait, who permitted Larcher more freedom of +speech than he did any other of his friends. "I won't be more than ten +minutes dressing." + +"Very good! I'll smoke a pipe during your absence, and see with what +further fribbles you have adorned your rooms. Then we'll go to the club, +and afterward to the tailor's. I don't suppose my letters will detain me +long." + +In this Larcher was wrong, for his letters detained him longer than he +expected. This opened the way to a new course of life, of which at that +moment he knew nothing. Laughing and jesting in his friend's rooms, +heart-whole and untrammeled, he little knew what Fortune had in store +for him on that fateful morning. It is just as well that the future is +hidden from men, else they would hardly go forward with so light a step +to face juries. Hitherto Larcher's life had been all sunshine, but now +darknesses were rising above the horizon, and these letters, to which he +so lightly alluded, were the first warnings of the coming storm. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + A MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION. + + +THE ATHENIAN CLUB was the most up-to-date thing of its kind in London. +Although it had been established over eight years it was as new as on +the day of its creation, and not only kept abreast of the times, but in +many instances went ahead of them. The Athenians of old time were always +crying out for something new; and their prototypes of London, following +in their footsteps, formed a body of men who were ever on the look-out +for novelty. Hence the name of this club, which adopted for its motto +the classic cry, "Give us something new," and acted well up to the +saying. The Athenian Club was the pioneer of everything. + +It would take a long time to recount the vagaries for which this coterie +had been responsible. If one more daring spirit than the rest invented a +new thing or reinstated on old one, his fellows followed like a flock of +intelligent sheep and wore the subject threadbare, till some more +startling theory initiated a new movement. The opinion of the club took +its color from the prevailing "fad" of the hour, and indeed many of the +aforesaid "fads" were invented in its smoke room. It should have been +called "The Ephemeral Club," from the rapidity with which its fanciers +rose to popularity and vanished into obscurity. + +After all, such incessant novelty is rather fatiguing. London is the +most exhausting city in the world in which to live. From all quarters of +the globe news is pouring in, every street is crowded with life and +movement; the latest ideas of civilization here ripen to completion. It +is impossible to escape from the contagion of novelty; it is in the air. +Information salutes one at every turn; it pours from the mouths of men; +it thrusts itself before the eye in countless daily and weekly +newspapers; it clicks from every telegraph wire, until the brain is +wearied with the flood of ephemeral knowledge. All this plethora of +intellectual life was concentrated in the narrow confines of the +Athenian Club House. No wonder its members complained of news. + +"What is the prevailing passion with the Athenian at present?" asked +Larcher as he stepped briskly along Piccadilly beside Tait. + +"The New Literature!" + +"What is that?" + +"Upon my word, I can hardly tell you," replied Tait, after some +cogitation. "It is a kind of impressionist school, I fancy. Those who +profess to lead it insist upon works having no plot, and no action, or +no dramatic situations. Their idea of a work is for a man and +woman--both vaguely denominated 'he' and 'she'--to talk to one another +through a few hundred pages. Good Lord, how they do talk, and all about +their own feelings, their own woes, their own troubles, their own +infernal egotisms! The motto of 'The New Literature' should be 'Talk! +talk! talk!' for it consists of nothing else." + +"Why not adopt Hamlet's recitation," suggested Larcher laughingly, +"'Words! words! words!'" + +"Oh, 'The New Literature' wants nothing from the past! Not even a +quotation," said Tait tartly. "Woman--the new woman--is greatly to the +fore in this latest fancy. She writes about neurotic members of her own +sex, and calls men bad names every other page. The subjects mostly +discussed in the modern novel by the modern woman, are the regeneration +of the world by woman, the failure of the male to bridle his appetites, +and the beginning of the millennium which will come when women get their +own way." + +"Haven't they got their own way now?" + +"I should think so. I don't know what further freedom they want. We live +in a world of petticoats nowadays. Women pervade everything like +microbes. And they are such worrying creatures," pursued Tait +plaintively, "they don't take things calmly like men do, but talk and +rage and go into hysterics every other minute. If this sort of thing +goes on I shall retire with Dormer to an uninhabited island." + +"It is easily seen that you are not a friend to the new movement," said +Larcher, with a smile, "but here we are. Wait in the smoke room, like a +good fellow, while I see after my correspondence." + +"You will find me in the writing room," replied Tait. "I have lost my +morning pipe, and do not intend to smoke any more till after luncheon." + +"I don't believe you're a man, Tait, but a clockwork figure wound up to +act in the same manner at the same moment. And you are such a horribly +vulgar piece of mechanism." + +Tait laughed, gratified by this tribute to his methodical habits, so, +leaving Larcher to see after his letters, he vanished into the writing +room. Here he wrote an apologetic telegram to his friend Freak, and sent +it off so that it might reach that gentleman before he started for +Richmond. Then he scribbled a few notes on various trifling matters of +business which called for immediate attention, and having thus disposed +of his cares, ensconced himself in a comfortable armchair to wait for +Claude. + +In a few minutes Larcher made his appearance with a puzzled expression +on his face, and two open letters in his hand. Taking a seat close to +that of Tait, he at once began to explain that the news contained in the +letters was the cause of the expression aforesaid. + +"My other letters are nothing to speak of," said he, when seated, "but +these two fairly puzzle me. Number one is from Mr. Hilliston, asking me +to call; the other is from a Margaret Bezel, with a similar request. Now +I know Mr. Hilliston as guardian, lawyer, and banker, but who is +Margaret Bezel?" + +Tait shook his wise little head. Well-informed as he was in several +matters, he had never heard of Margaret Bezel. + +"She lives at Hampstead, I see," continued Claude, referring to the +letter. "Clarence Cottage, Hunt Lane. That is somewhere in the vicinity +of Jack Straw's Castle. I wonder who she is, and why she wants to see +me." + +"You have never heard of her?" asked Tait dubiously. He was never quite +satisfied with Larcher's connections with the weaker sex. + +"Certainly not," replied the other, with some heat. "If I had I would +assuredly remember so odd a name. Bezel! Bezel! Something to do with a +ring, isn't it?" + +"It might have something to do with a wedding ring," said Tait, with a +grim smile. "The lady may have matrimonial designs on you." + +"Bah! She may be a washerwoman for all you know, or a wife, or a widow, +or Heaven only knows what. But that is not the queerest part of the +affair, for Mr. Hilliston----But here, read the lady's letter first, the +gentleman's next, and tell me what you think of them. Upon my word, I +can make neither top nor tail of the business!" + + (_The First Letter._) + + "April 18, 1892. + "DEAR SIR: Will you be so kind as to call and see me at Clarence + Cottage, Hunt Lane, Hampstead, as I have an important + communication to make to you regarding your parents. + "Yours truly, + "MARGARET BEZEL." + + (_The Second Letter._) + + "LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS, June 10, 1892. + "DEAR CLAUDE: Call and see me here as soon as you arrive in + town, and should you receive a communication from one Margaret + Bezel, bring it with you. On no account see the lady before you + have an interview with me. This matter is more important than + you know of, and will be duly explained by me when you call. + + "Yours sincerely, + "FRANCIS HILLISTON." + +Tait read these two letters carefully, pinched his chin reflectively, +and looked at Claude in a rather anxious manner. + +"Well, sir," said the latter impatiently, "what is your opinion?" + +Tait's opinion was given in one word, and that not of the nicest +meaning. + +"Blackmail." + +"Blackmail!" repeated Larcher, taken aback, as well he might be. "What +do you mean?" + +"I may be wrong," said Tait apologetically, "but this is the only +conclusion to which I can come. I read the matter this way: Margaret +Bezel knows something about your parents, and wishes to reveal it to +you, possibly on condition that you pay her a sum of money. Hilliston +evidently knows that such is her intention, and wishes to put you on +your guard. Hence he asks you to see him before you accept the +invitation of the lady." + +"H'm! This is feasible enough. But what possible communication can this +woman be likely to make to me which would involve blackmail. My parents +both died when I was four years of age. She can't have any evil to say +of them after twenty-five years." + +"You must question Hilliston as to that," replied Tait, shrugging his +shoulders. "I think you ought to see him this afternoon. He knows you +are in town. I suppose?" + +"I wrote from Wellington to tell him that I was returning in the +_Kailargatin_," said Claude, glancing at the letter. "He must have been +informed by the paper of her arrival yesterday, for this note is dated +the same day. To-day is the eleventh." + +"But surely Hilliston knew you would call as soon as you arrived?" + +"He might be certain that I would do so within the week, at all events," +answered Larcher reflectively. "That is what makes his letter the more +puzzling. The matter must be very urgent when he demands an immediate +interview." + +"I am certain he wishes to forestall this lady," said Tait, picking up +the letter of Margaret Bezel. "She, at all events, knows nothing of your +movements, for the note is dated the 10th of April, when you were in New +Zealand." + +"Humph! It is very odd, Tait." + +"It is extremely odd, and too important to be neglected. Call on Mr. +Hilliston this afternoon, and send him a wire now to make an +appointment." + +"I hope I am not going to have a bad quarter of an hour," observed +Claude, as he wrote out the telegram. The mystery of the matter ruffled +his usual serenity. + +"I sincerely trust you are not," replied the other, touching the bell +for the waiter; "but I must say I do not like the look of those two +epistles." + +The telegram was duly dispatched, and after a few more conjectures as to +the motive of the communications, Larcher went upstairs to luncheon with +his friend. Halfway through the meal he was struck with an idea. + +"Margaret Bezel must be old, Tait." + +"How do you know?" + +"If she knows anything of my parents she must have been their friend or +servant, and as they died twenty-five years ago she can be no chicken." + +"True enough! But don't go out and meet your troubles halfway, Claude. +It will be time enough to worry should Hilliston give you bad news. By +the way, I suppose you'll stay with him to-night?" + +"No doubt. He has bought a new house in Kensington Gore, and wishes me +to have a look at it. I shall be glad to see his wife again. Dear old +lady, she has been a second mother to me, and he like a father." + +"And I like a brother," interposed Tait, laughing. "As a lonely orphan +you have to depend upon public charity for your relatives. But talking +about new houses, you must see mine." + +"What! Are you a householder?" + +"A householder, not a landed proprietor," said Tait, with pride. "I have +purchased an old Manor House and a few acres at Thorston, about eight +miles from Eastbourne. You must come down and see it. I have just had it +furnished and put in order. A week or so there will do you good, and +give me much pleasure." + +"I shall be delighted to come," said Larcher hastily, "that is, if there +is no troublesome business to detain me in London." + +"Well, you will know shortly. After all, Hilliston may give you good +news, instead of bad." + +"Bah! You don't believe that, Tait." + +"I don't indeed! But I am trying to comfort you." + +"After the fashion of Job's friends," retorted Claude promptly. "Well, +you may be right, for I do not like the look of things myself. However, +I must take bad fortune along with good. Hitherto all has gone well with +me, and I sincerely trust this letter from Margaret Bezel is not a +forerunner of trouble." + +"Should it be so, you will always have at least one friend to stand by +you." + +"Thank you, Tait," replied Larcher, grasping the outstretched hand. +"Should the time come for testing your friendship, I shall have no +hesitation in putting it to the proof. And the time is coming," added +he, tapping the pocket which held the letter, "of that I am certain." + +"What about our theater to-night?" demanded Tait dubiously. + +"It all depends on my interview with Hilliston." + +Tait said nothing at the moment, and shortly afterward they parted, +Larcher to seek his guardian in Lincoln's Inn Fields, Tait to return to +his chambers. + +"Humph!" said the latter thoughtfully, "there will be no theater for us +to-night. I don't like the look of things at all. The deuce take +Margaret Bezel!" + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + THE REVELATION OF FRANCIS HILLISTON. + + +ONCE upon a time popular imagination pictured a lawyer as a cadaverous +creature, arrayed in rusty black, with bulging blue-bag, and dry +forensic lore on his tongue. So was the child of Themis represented in +endless Adelphia farces; and his moral nature, as conceived by the +ingenious playwright, was even less inviting than his exterior. He was a +scamp, a rogue, a compiler of interminable bills, an exactor of the last +shilling, a legal _Shylock_, hard-fisted and avaricious. To a great +extent this type is a thing of the past, for your latter-day lawyer is +an alert, well-dressed personage, social and amiable. Still he is looked +on with awe as a dispenser of justice,--very often of injustice,--and +not all the fine raiment in the world can rob him of his ancient +reputation: when he was a dread being to the dwellers of Grub Street, +who mostly had the task of limning his portrait, and so impartial +revenge pictured him as above. + +All of which preamble leads up to the fact that Francis Hilliston was a +lawyer of the new school, despite his sixty and more years. In +appearance he was not unlike a farmer, and indeed owned a few arable +acres in Kent, where he played the rôle of a modern Cincinnatus. There +he affected rough clothing and an interest in agricultural subjects, but +in town in his Lincoln's Inn Fields' office he was solemnly arrayed in a +frock coat with other garments to match, and conveyed into his twinkling +eyes an expression of dignified learning. He was a different man in +London to what he was in Kent, and was a kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde +for moral transformations. On this special occasion frock-coated +legality was uppermost. + +Yet he unbent for a moment or so when receiving Claude Larcher, for +childless himself, the young man was to him a very Absalom; and he loved +him with an affection truly paternal. No one can have the conduct of a +child up to the age of twenty--at which period Claude made his _début_ +in the engineering world, without feeling a tugging at the heart +strings. Had Larcher been indeed his son, and he a father in place of a +guardian, he could have scarcely received the young man more warmly, or +have welcomed him with more heartfelt affection. + +But the first outburst over, and Claude duly greeted and seated in a +convenient chair, Mr. Hilliston recurred to his legal stiffness, and, +with no smile on his lips, sat eyeing his visitor. He had an awkward +conversation before him, and was mentally wondering as to the best way +of breaking the ice. Claude spared him the trouble by at once plunging +headlong into the subject of Margaret Bezel and her mysterious letter. + +"Here you are, sir," said he, handing it to his guardian. "I have +brought the letter of this woman with me as you wished, and I have also +abstained from seeing her in accordance with your desire." + +"Humph!" muttered Hilliston, skimming the letter with a legal eye, "I +thought she would write." + +"Do you know her, sir?" + +"Oh, yes!" said the other dryly. "I know her. But," he added after a +thoughtful pause, "I have not set eyes on her for at least +five-and-twenty years." + +"Twenty-five years," repeated Claude, thoughtful in his turn. "It was +about that time I came into your house." + +Hilliston looked up sharply, as though conceiving that the remark was +made with intention, but satisfied that it was not from the absent +expression in Larcher's face, he resumed his perusal of the letter and +commented thereon. + +"What do you think of this communication, Claude?" + +"I don't know what to think," replied the young man promptly. "I confess +I am curious to know why this woman wishes to see me. Who is she?" + +"A widow lady with a small income." + +"Does she know anything of my family?" + +"Why do you ask that?" demanded Hilliston sharply, and, as it seemed to +Claude, a trifle uneasily. + +"Well, as I am a stranger to her, she cannot wish to see me on any +personal matter, sir. And as you mention that you have not seen her for +five-and-twenty years, about which time my parents died, I naturally +thought----" + +"That I had some object in asking you not to see her?" + +"Well, yes." + +"You are a man of experience now, Claude," said Hilliston, with apparent +irrelevance, "and have been all over the world. Consequently you know +that life is full of--trouble." + +"I believe so; but hitherto no trouble has come my way." + +"You might expect that it would come sooner or later, Claude. It has +come now." + +"Indeed!" said Larcher, in a joking tone. "Am I about to lose my small +income of five hundred a year?" + +"No, that is safe enough!" answered Hilliston abruptly, rising to his +feet. "The trouble of which I speak will not affect your material +welfare. Indeed, if you are a hardened man of the world, as you might +be, it need affect you very little in any case. You are not responsible +for the sins of a former generation, and as you hardly remember your +parents, cannot have any sympathy with their worries." + +"I certainly remember very little of my parents, sir," said Larcher, +moved by the significance of this speech. "Yet I have a faint memory of +two faces. One a dark, handsome face, with kind eyes, the other a +beautiful, fair countenance." + +"Your father and mother, Claude." + +"Yes. So much I remember of them. But what have they to do with Margaret +Bezel--or Mrs. Bezel, as I suppose she is called? Why does she want to +see me?" + +"To tell you a story which I prefer to relate myself." + +"About whom?" + +"About your parents." + +"But they are dead!" + +"Yes," said Hilliston, "they are dead." + +He walked about the room, opened a box, and took out a roll of papers, +yellow with age. These were neatly tied up with red tape and inscribed +"The Larcher Affair." Placing them on the table before him, Hilliston +resumed his seat, and looked steadfastly at his ward. Claude, vaguely +aware that some unpleasant communication was about to be made to him, +sat silently waiting the words of ill omen, and his naturally fresh +color faded to a dull white with apprehension. + +"I have always loved you like a son, Claude," said Hilliston solemnly, +"ever since you came to my house, a tiny boy of five. It has been my aim +to educate you well, to advance your interests, to make you happy, and +above all," added the lawyer, lowering his voice, "to keep the contents +of these papers secret from you." + +Claude said nothing, though Hilliston paused to enable him to speak, but +sat waiting further explanation. + +"I thought the past was dead and buried," resumed his guardian, in a low +voice. "So far as I can see it is foolish to rake up old scandals--old +crimes." + +"Crimes!" said Claude, rising involuntarily to his feet. + +"Crimes," repeated Hilliston sadly. "The time has come when you must +know the truth about your parents. The woman who wrote this letter has +been silent for five-and-twenty years. Now, for some reason with which I +am unacquainted, she is determined to see you and reveal all. A few +months ago she called here to tell me so. I implored her to keep silent, +pointing out that no good could come of acquainting you with bygone +evils; but she refused to listen to me, and left this office with the +full intention of finding you out, and making her revelation." + +"But I have been in New Zealand." + +"She did not know that, nor did I tell her," said Hilliston grimly; "in +fact, I refused to give her your address, but she is not the woman to be +easily beaten, as I well know. I guessed she would find out the name of +your club and write to you there, therefore I sent that letter to you so +as to counter-plot the creature. I expected that you would find a letter +from her at your club on your arrival. I was right. Here is the letter. +She has succeeded so far, but I have managed to checkmate her by +obtaining the first interview with you. Should you call on her,--and +after reading these papers I have little doubt but that you will do +so,--she will be able to tell you nothing new. I cannot crush the viper, +but at least I can draw its fangs." + +"You speak hardly of this woman, sir." + +"I have reason to," said Hilliston quietly. "But for this woman your +father would still be alive." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that your father, George Larcher, was murdered!" + +"Murdered!" + +"Yes! Murdered at Horriston, in Kent, in the year 1866." + +Stunned by this information, which he was far from expecting, Claude +sank down in his chair with a look of horror on his face, while +Hilliston spoke rapidly. + +"I have kept this secret all these years because I did not want your +young life to be shadowed by the knowledge of your father's fate. But +now Mrs. Bezel intends to tell you the truth, and will give you a +garbled version of the same, making herself out a martyr. I must be +beforehand with her, and I wish you to take those papers, and read the +account of the case which ended in the acquittal of your mother." + +"My mother! Acquitted! Do you mean----" + +"I mean that Mrs. Larcher was accused of the murder of her husband, and +was tried and acquitted." + +"Great Heavens! But she is now dead?" + +"I say no more," said Hilliston, evading a direct reply. "You will know +the truth when you read these papers." + +Larcher mechanically took the packet held out to him, and placed it in +his pocket. Then he rose to go. A thousand questions were on the tip of +his tongue, but he dare not ask one. It would be better, he thought, to +learn the truth from the papers, in place of hearing it from the lips of +Francis Hilliston, who might, for all he knew, give as garbled a version +of the affair as Mrs. Bezel. Hilliston guessed his thoughts, and +approved of the unspoken decision. + +"I think you are right," he said, with deliberation; "it is best that +you should learn the truth in that way. When you have read those papers +come and see me about them." + +"One moment, sir! Who killed my father?" + +"I cannot say! Your mother was suspected and proved innocent. A friend +of your father was also suspected and----" + +"And proved innocent?" + +"No! He was never arrested--he was never tried. He vanished on the night +of the murder and has not been heard of since. Now, I can tell you no +more. Go and read the papers, Claude." + +Larcher took up his hat and hurried toward the door in a mechanical +manner. There he paused. + +"Does Mrs. Bezel know the truth?" + +Hilliston, arranging the papers on the table, looked up with a face +which had unexpectedly grown gray and old. + +"Yes!" he said quickly. "I think Mrs. Bezel knows the 'truth.'" + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + WHAT OCCURRED AT HORRISTON. + + +AFTER that fatal interview Claude went neither to the house at +Kensington Gore nor to the chambers of his friend Tait. With the papers +given to him by Hilliston in his pocket, he repaired to a quiet hotel in +Jermyn Street, where he was well-known, and there secured a bedroom for +the night. A wire speedily brought his luggage from the railway station, +and thus being settled for the moment, he proceeded to acquaint himself +with the tragedy of his parents' lives. + +It was some time before he could make up his mind to read the papers, +and, dreading the disagreeable relation, he put off the perusal till +such time as he retired to bed. A note dispatched to the Club intimated +to Tait that the second seat at the Curtain Theater would be unoccupied, +and then Claude tried to rid himself of distracting thoughts by a rapid +walk in the Park. So do men dally with the inevitable, and vainly +attempt to stay the march of Fate. + +Dinner was a mere farce with the young man, for he could neither eat nor +drink, and afterward he dawdled about the smoke room, putting off the +reading of the papers as long as he could. A superstitious feeling of +coming evil withheld him from immediately learning the truth; and it was +not until the clock struck ten that he summoned up sufficient courage to +repair to his bedroom. + +With the papers spread out on a small table, he sat down at half-past +ten, reading by the light of a single candle. A second and a third were +needed before he arose from his chair, and the gray dawn was glimmering +through the window blinds as he laid down the last sheet. Then his face +was as gray as the light spreading over street and house, for he knew +that his dead father had been foully murdered, and that his dead mother +had been morally, if not legally, guilty of the crime. The tragedy--a +strange mixture of the sordid and the romantic--took place at Horriston, +in Kent, in the year 1866, and the following are the main facts, as +exhibited by the provincial press: + +In the year 1860 George Larcher and his wife came to settle at +Horriston, attracted thereto by the romantic beauty of the scenery and +the cheerful society of that rising watering-place. Since that time +Horriston, after a feeble struggle for supremacy, has succumbed to +powerful rivals, and is once more a sleepy little provincial town, +unknown to invalid or doctor. But when Mr. and Mrs. Larcher settled +there it was a popular resort for visitors from all quarters of the +three kingdoms, and the young couple were extremely liked by the gay +society which filled the town. For five years they lived there, but +during the sixth occurred the tragedy which slew the husband, and placed +the wife in the dock. + +The antecedents of the pair were irreproachable in every respect. He was +a fairly rich man of thirty-five, who, holding a commission in the army, +had met with his wife--then Miss Barker--at Cheltenham. She was a +beautiful girl, fond of dress and gayety, the belle of her native town, +and the greatest flirt of the country side. Handsome George Larcher, in +all the bravery of martial trappings, came like the young prince of the +fairy tale, and carried off the beauty from all rivals. She, knowing him +to be rich, seeing him to be handsome, and aware that he was +well-connected, accepted his hand, and so they were married, to the +great discomfiture of many sighing swains. There was love on his side at +least, but whether Julia Barker returned that passion in any great +degree it is hard to say. The provincial reporter hinted that a prior +attachment had engaged her heart, and though she married Larcher for his +money, and looks, and position, yet she only truly loved one man--one +Mark Jeringham, who afterward figured in the tragedy at Horriston. + +To all outward appearance Captain and Mrs. Larcher were a pattern +couple, and popular with military and civil society. Then, in obedience +to the wish of his wife, George Larcher sold out, and within a few +months of their marriage they came to live at Horriston. Here they took +a house known as The Laurels, which was perched on a cliff of moderate +height, overlooking the river Sarway; and proceeded to entertain the gay +society of the neighborhood. One son was born to them a year after they +took up their abode at The Laurels, and he was five years of age when +the tragedy took place which caused the death of his parent. Claude had +no difficulty in recognizing himself as the orphan so pathetically +alluded to by the flowery provincial reporter. + +The household of George Larcher consisted of six servants, among whom +two were particularly interesting. The one was the captain's valet, +Denis Bantry, an Irish soldier in the same regiment as his master, who +had been bought out by Larcher when he took leave of military glory. +Attached to the captain by many acts of kindness, Denis was absolutely +devoted to him, and was no unimportant personage in the new home. The +other servant was Mona Bantry, the sister of Denis, a handsome, +bright-eyed lass from County Kerry, who acted as maid to Mrs. Larcher. +The remaining servants call for no special mention, but this Irish +couple must be particularly noted as having been mixed up with the +tragedy. + +For some months all went well at The Laurels, and it seemed as though +the Larchers were devoted to one another. But this was only outwardly, +for the character of Julia developed rapidly after marriage into that of +a vain, frivolous woman, eager of admiration, extravagant as regards +dress, and neglectful of the infant son. Larcher, a thoroughly +domesticated man, greatly resented the attitude taken up by his wife, +and the resentment led to frequent quarrels. He was annoyed by her +frivolity and continuous absence from home; while she began to dislike +her grave husband, who would have made her--as she expressed it--a mere +domestic drudge. But the pair managed to hoodwink the world as to their +real feelings to one another, and it was only when the trial of Mrs. +Larcher came on that the truth was revealed. In all Kent there was no +more unhappy home than that at The Laurels. + +To make matters worse, Mark Jeringham paid a visit to Horriston, and +having known Mrs. Larcher from childhood, naturally enough became a +frequent visitor. He was everywhere at the heels of the former belle of +Cheltenham, who encouraged him in his attentions. Larcher remonstrated +with his wife on her folly, but she saucily refused to alter her line of +conduct. But for the scandal of the thing Larcher would have forbidden +Jeringham the house; and, to mark his disapprobation, gave him the cold +shoulder on every occasion. Nevertheless, this inconvenient person +persisted in thrusting himself between husband and wife, to the anger of +the former and the delight of the latter. The introduction of this third +element only made matters worse. + +The house was divided into camps, for Mona supported her mistress in her +frivolity, and, indeed, seemed herself to have an admiration for +handsome Mark Jeringham, who was very generous in money matters. Denis, +in whose eyes his master was perfect, hated the interloper as much as +Larcher, and loudly protested against the attention of Mona and his +mistress. Another friend who supported Larcher was Francis Hilliston, +then a gay young lawyer of thirty-five, who often paid a visit to +Horriston. He also frequented The Laurels, but was much disliked by Mrs. +Larcher, who greatly resented his loyal friendship for her husband. +Things were in this position on the 23d of June, 1866, when events +occurred which resulted in the murder of Captain Larcher, the +disappearance of Jeringham, and the arrest of Mrs. Larcher on a charge +of murder. + +A masked ball in fancy dress was to be given at the Town Hall on that +night, and hither Mrs. Larcher was going as Mary, Queen of Scots, +accompanied by Jeringham in the character of Darnley. George Larcher +refused to be present, and went up to London on the night in question, +leaving his faithful friend Hilliston to look after his matrimonial +interests at the ball. Before he left a terrible scene took place +between himself and his wife, in which he forbade her to go to the +dance, but she defied him, and said she would go without his permission. +Whereupon Larcher left the house and went up to London, swearing that he +would never return until his wife asked his pardon and renounced the +friendship of Jeringham. + +Now, here began the mystery which no one was able to fathom. Mrs. +Larcher went to the ball with Jeringham, and having, as she said to +Hilliston, who was also at the ball, enjoyed herself greatly, returned +home at three in the morning. The next day she was ill in bed, although +she had left the Town Hall in perfect health, and Mark Jeringham had +disappeared. Larcher was not seen in the neighborhood for five days, and +presumably was still in London; so during his absence Mrs. Larcher kept +her bed. Then his body, considerably disfigured, was found at the mouth +of the river Sarway, some four miles down. Curious to state it was +clothed in a fancy dress similar to that worn by Jeringham on the night +of the ball. + +On the discovery of the body public curiosity was greatly excited, and a +thousand rumors flew from mouth to mouth. That a crime had been +committed no one doubted for a moment, as an examination proved that +George Larcher had been stabbed to the heart by some slender, sharp +instrument. The matter passed into the hands of the police, and they +paid a visit to The Laurels for the purpose of seeing what light Mrs. +Larcher could throw on the matter. At this awful period of her frivolous +life Francis Hilliston stood her friend, and it was he who interviewed +the officers of the law when they called. + +Mrs. Larcher was still in bed, and, under the doctor's orders, refused +to rise therefrom, or to receive her visitors. She protested to +Hilliston, who in his turn reported her sayings to the police, that she +knew nothing about the matter. She had not seen her husband since he +left her on the 23d of June, and no one was more astonished or +horror-struck than she at the news of his death. According to her story +she had left the ball at three o'clock, and had driven to The Laurels +with Jeringham. He had parted from her at the door of the house, and had +walked back to Horriston. His reason for not entering, and for not using +the carriage to return, was that he did not wish to give color to the +scandal as to the relations which existed between them, which Mrs. +Larcher vowed and protested were purely platonic. + +Furthermore, she asserted that her illness was caused by a discovery +which she had made on the night of the ball: that Mona Bantry was about +to become a mother, and to all appearance she believed that the father +of the coming child was none other than her husband. Far from thinking +that he had been murdered, she had been waiting for his return in order +to upbraid him for his profligacy, and to demand a divorce. Mona Bantry +had disappeared immediately after the discovery of her ruin, and Mrs. +Larcher professed that she did not know where she was. + +This story, which was feasible enough, satisfied the police authorities +for the moment, and they retired, only to return three days later with a +warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Larcher. In the interval a dagger had +been found in the grounds of The Laurels, on the banks of the river, +and, as it was stained with blood and exactly fitted the wound, it was +concluded that with this weapon the crime had been committed. Inquiry +resulted in the information being obtained that Mrs. Larcher, in her +character of Mary, Queen of Scots, had worn this dagger on the night of +the ball. Hence it was evident, so said the police, that she had killed +her husband. + +The theory of the police was that Captain Larcher had returned from +London on the night of the ball, and had witnessed the parting of his +wife and Jeringham at the door. Filled with jealous rage he had +upbraided his wife in the sitting room, the window of which looked out +on the cliff overhanging the river. In a moment of fury she had +doubtless snatched the dagger from her girdle and stabbed him to the +heart, then, terrified at what she had done, had thrown the body out of +the window, trusting that the stream would carry it away, and so conceal +her crime. This the river had done, for the body had been discovered +four miles down, where it had been carried by the current. As to the +dagger being in the grounds in place of the room, the police, never at a +loss for a theory, suggested that Mrs. Larcher had stolen out of the +house, and had thrown the dagger over the bank where it was subsequently +discovered. + +Mrs. Larcher asserted her innocence, and reiterated her statement that +she had not seen her husband since the day of the ball. He had not +returned on that night, as the servants could testify. The only +domestics who had not retired to bed when she returned at three o'clock +were Mona and Denis. Of these the first had gone away to hide her shame, +and all inquiries and advertisements failed to find her. But at the +trial Denis--much broken down at the ruin of his sister--swore that +Captain Larcher had not returned from London on that evening, and that +Mrs. Larcher had gone straight to the sitting room, where she first made +the discovery of Mona's iniquity, and then had afterward retired to bed. +Mrs. Larcher asserted that the dagger had been lost by her at the ball, +and she knew not into whose hands it had fallen. + +The trial, which took place at Canterbury, was a nine days' wonder, and +opinions were divided as to the guilt of the erring wife. One party held +that she had committed the crime in the manner stated by the police, +while the others asserted that Jeringham was the criminal, and had +disappeared in order to escape the consequences of his guilt. +"Doubtless," said they, "he had been met by Larcher after leaving the +house, and had killed him during a quarrel." The use of the dagger was +accounted for by these wiseacres by a belief that Mrs. Larcher had given +it to Jeringham as a love token when she parted from him at the door of +The Laurels. + +The evidence of Denis, that he had been with or near Mrs. Larcher till +she retired to bed, and that the captain had not set foot in the house +on that evening, turned the tide of evidence in favor of the unfortunate +woman. She was acquitted of the crime, and went to London, but there +died--as appeared from the newspapers--a few weeks afterward, killed by +anxiety and shame. + +The child Claude was taken charge of by Mr. Hilliston, who had been a +good friend to Mrs. Larcher during her troubles, and so the matter faded +from the public mind. + +What became of Jeringham no one ever knew. His victim--as some supposed +Larcher to be--was duly buried in the Horriston Cemetery, but all the +efforts of the police failed to find the man who was morally, if not +legally, guilty of the crime. Denis also was lost in the London crowd, +and all those who had been present at the tragedy at The Laurels were +scattered far and wide. New matters attracted the attention of the +fickle public, and the Larcher affair was forgotten in due course. + +The mystery was never solved. Who was guilty of the crime? That question +was never answered. Some accused Mrs. Larcher despite her acquittal and +death. Others insisted that Jeringham was the criminal; but no one could +be certain of the truth. Hilliston, seeing that Mr. and Mrs. Larcher +were dead, that Mona, Denis, and Jeringham had disappeared, wisely kept +the matter secret from Claude, deeming that it would be folly to disturb +the mind of the lad with an insoluble riddle of so terrible a nature. So +for five-and-twenty years the matter had remained in abeyance. Now it +seemed as though it were about to be reopened by Mrs. Bezel. + +"And who--" asked Claude of himself, as he finished this history in the +gray dawn of the morning, "who is Mrs. Bezel?" + +To say the least, he had a right to ask himself this question, for it +was curious that the name of Mrs. Bezel was not even mentioned in +connection with that undiscovered crime of five-and-twenty years before. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + A STRANGE COINCIDENCE. + + +IN spite of Tait's methodical habits, circumstances beyond his control +often occurred to upset them. On the previous day the unexpected arrival +of Claude had altered his plans for the day, and after his return from +the theater on the same evening, he had--contrary to his rule--passed +the night in reading. The invaluable Dormer had procured "A Whim of +Fate" from Mudie's, and Tait found it lying on the table in company with +biscuits and wine. Excited by the performance, he did not feel inclined +to retire at his usual hour of midnight, and while sipping his wine, +picked up the first volume to while away the time till he should feel +sleepy. + +Alas! this novel, about which everyone in London was talking, proved +anything but soporific, and for the whole of that night Tait sat in his +comfortable chair devouring the three volumes. The tale was one of +mystery, and until he learned the solution Tait, conventional and +incurious as he was, could not tear himself from the fascination of the +printed page. When the riddle was read, when the criminal was hunted +down, when the bad were punished, and the good rewarded, the dawn was +already breaking in the east. In his Jermyn Street hotel, Claude Larcher +was rising, stiff and tired, from the perusal of a tragedy in real life; +in his Earls Street chambers, Spenser Tait was closing the third volume +of John Parver's work. Each had passed a wakeful night, each had been +fascinated by the account of a crime, the one real, the other fictional. +So does Fate, whose designs no one can presume to explain, duplicate our +lives for the gaining of her own ends. + +Rather disgusted by his departure from the conventional, and heartily +blaming the too ingenious John Parver for having caused such departure, +Tait tumbled hastily into bed, in order to snatch a few hours' sleep. +Dormer, ignorant of his master's vigil, woke him remorselessly at his +usual hour, with the unexpected intelligence that Mr. Larcher was +waiting to see him in the sitting room. From the telegram of the +previous night, and this early visit, Tait rightly concluded that his +friend was in trouble, so without waiting to take his bath, he hurriedly +slipped on a dressing gown, and appeared sleepy and disheveled in the +sitting room. Larcher, who looked likewise dissipated, arose to his feet +as the little man entered, and they eyed one another in astonishment, +for the appearance of each was totally at variance with his usual looks. + +"Well," said Tait interrogatively, "I see you've been making a night of +it." + +"I might say the same of you," replied Larcher grimly; "a more +dissipated looking wretch I never saw. Have you fallen into bad habits +at your age?" + +"That depends on what you call bad habits, Claude. I have not been round +the town, if that is what you mean. But, seduced by the novel of a too +ingenious author, I have sat up all night devouring his three volumes. +Such a thing has not occurred with me since I unfortunately tried to +read myself to sleep with 'Jane Eyre.' Charlotte Brontë and John Parver +are both answerable for my white nights. But you," continued Tait, +surveying his friend in a quizzical manner; "am I to understand +that----" + +"You are to understand that my night has been a duplicate of your own," +interrupted Larcher curtly. + +"What! Have you been reading 'A Whim of Fate'?" + +"No, my friend, I have not. While you were devouring fiction, I have +been making myself acquainted with a tragedy in real life." + +Larcher thereupon savagely threw on the breakfast table a roll of +papers, and looked defiantly at his friend. Tone and expression failed +to elicit surprise. + +"Oh!" said Tait reflectively, "then Hilliston gave you bad news, after +all. I guessed he had from your refusal to accompany me to the theater +last night." + +"You guessed rightly. He gave me such news as I never expected to hear. +You will find it amply set forth in those papers, which I have been +reading all night." + +"Dear me. I trust it is nothing serious. Has Mrs. Bezel----" + +"I don't know anything about Mrs. Bezel," said Larcher loudly. "So far +as she is concerned I am as much in the dark as ever. But my +parents----" + +"What of them?" interrupted Tait, uttering the first thought which came +into his mind. "Are they alive, after all?" + +"No. They are dead, sure enough," muttered Claude gloomily. + +"In that case what can Mr. Hilliston or Mrs. Bezel have to say about +them," demanded the other, looking puzzled. "No scandal about Queen +Elizabeth, I hope?" + +"Confound it, man, don't be so flippant! I've had bad news, I tell you. +My father,"--here Larcher gulped down his emotion with some +difficulty--"my father was murdered!" + +"Murdered!" repeated Tait, looking aghast, as well he might. + +"Yes! And my mother was accused of having murdered him. There you have +it." + +It was some little time before Tait could face the skeleton so +unexpectedly produced from the Larcher cupboard. Hitherto his +acquaintance with crime had been mainly derived from fiction after the +style of John Parver, or from the columns of the press; but now he was +brought face to face with a tragedy indirectly connected with his +dearest friend, and naturally enough did not like the situation. +Nevertheless, like the wise little man he was, he made no comment on the +truth so suddenly blurted out, but pushed his friend into a comfortable +chair, and proposed breakfast. + +"Breakfast!" cried Claude, clutching his hair; "I could not eat a +morsel. Have you no feelings, you little monster, to propose breakfast +to me, after hearing such hideous news. Why don't you give me sympathy, +and try and help me, instead of sitting at your confounded rasher of +bacon like a graven image." + +"I'll do all in my power later on," said Tait quietly; "but you are +upset by this news, and no wonder. Try and eat a little, then you can +tell me all about it, and I'll give you the best advice in my power." + +Thus adjured, Claude drew in his chair, and managed to eat a morsel of +toast and drink a cup of coffee, after which he lighted his pipe, and +smoked furiously, while Tait, anxious that his friend should regain his +self-control, made a lengthened meal, and talked of divers matters. +Breakfast over, he also filled his favorite pipe, and, drawing a chair +close to that of Larcher's, waited for an explanation. + +"Well, Claude," said he, after a pause, during which the other showed no +disposition to speak, "tell me your trouble." + +"I have told you," grumbled Larcher angrily; "if you want to know any +more about it, read those papers." + +"It would take too long, and, as it happens, I am already tired with +reading. Tell me about the affair as shortly as possible, and then we +can go through the papers together. You say your father was murdered. +Who committed the crime?" + +"No one knows! The criminal is still at large." + +"After five-and-twenty years he is likely to remain so." + +"No!", cried Larcher vehemently, striking the table; "I'll hunt him +down, and find him out, and put a rope round his neck, so help me God!" + +"You say your mother was accused of the crime," said Tait, ignoring this +outburst. + +"Yes. But she was acquitted on the evidence of my father's valet. +Shortly afterward she died in London. I don't wonder at it," said poor +Claude distractedly; "the shame, the disgrace! If she survived she was +bitterly punished. I should like to see the man who would dare to +asperse her memory." + +"No one will do so," said Tait soothingly. "Control yourself, my dear +fellow, and we will look into this matter together. I have just been +reading about a crime, but I did not think I would be so soon concerned +in dealing with one." + +"You will help me, Tait? You will stand by me?" + +"My dear friend, can you ask? I am completely at your service, and +together we will do all in our power to discover the murderer of your +father and clear the memory of your mother." + +"It is clear. She was acquitted by the jury. Don't you dare to----" + +"I don't dare to say anything," interrupted Tait impatiently. "Do be +reasonable, my good fellow. So long as I am ignorant, I can say nothing. +Tell me the particulars and we may arrive at some conclusion. Now then, +give me a _précis_ of the case." + +Dominated by the superior calm of his friend, Claude related the Larcher +affair as succinctly as possible. The details of the case had impressed +themselves too strongly on his brain for him to hesitate in the +narration, and, keeping his emotions well in hand, he managed to give a +fairly minute account of the tragedy which had taken place at Horriston +in the year 1866. + +The effect on Tait was surprising. A look of blank astonishment +overspread his face as Larcher proceeded with his story, and when it was +finished he looked anxiously at his friend. Apart from the details of +the case, he was deeply interested in the matter from another point of +view. Larcher waited to hear what his friend thought of the case, but +instead of commenting thereon Tait both acted and spoke in an apparently +irrelevant manner. + +Without a word he heard Claude to the end, then rose from his seat, and +walking to the other end of the room returned with three volumes bound +in red cloth. + +"This book is called 'A Whim of Fate,'" said he placing the volumes at +Larcher's elbow. "Have you read it?" + +"Confound it, what do you mean?" burst out Claude, with justifiable +wrath. "I tell you of a serious matter which nearly concerns myself, and +you prattle about the last fashionable novel." + +"Wait a minute," said Tait, laying a detaining hand on his friend's coat +sleeve. "There is more method in my madness than you give me credit +for." + +"What do you mean?" + +"The story you tell me is most extraordinary. But the information I am +about to impart to you is more extraordinary still. You say this crime +at Horriston was committed five-and-twenty years ago." + +"Yes, you can see by the date of those newspapers." + +"It has very likely faded out of all memories." + +"Of course! I don't suppose anyone is now alive who gives it a thought." + +"Well," said Tait, "it is certainly curious." + +"What is curious? Explain yourself." + +"The story you tell me now was known to me last night." + +Larcher looked at his friend in unconcealed surprise, and promptly +contradicted what seemed to be a foolish assertion. + +"That is impossible, Tait. I heard it only last night myself." + +"Nevertheless, I read it last night." + +"Read it last night!" repeated Larcher skeptically. + +"In this book," said Tait, laying his hand on the novel. + +"What do you mean?" demanded the other impatiently. + +"I mean that John Parver, the author of this book, has utilized the +events which took place at Horriston in 1866 for the purpose of writing +a work of fiction. The story you tell me is told in these pages, and +your family tragedy is the talk of literary London." + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION. + + +THIS astonishing statement was received by Claude with a disbelieving +smile; and so convinced was he of its untruth that he affected anger at +what he really believed to be the flippancy of Tait's conduct. + +"It is no doubt very amusing for you to ridicule my story," said he, +with cold dignity, "but it is hardly the act of a friend. Some matters +are too serious to form the subject of a jest; and this----" + +"I am not jesting," interrupted Tait eagerly. "I assure you that the +tragedy which concerned your parents forms the subject-matter of this +novel. You can read the book yourself, and so be convinced that I am +speaking the truth. The names and places are no doubt fictional, but the +whole story is narrated plainly enough." + +Larcher turned over the three volumes with a puzzled expression. That a +story with which he had only become acquainted within the last +twenty-four hours should be printed in a book, and that the book itself +should be brought so speedily under his notice, seemed to him quite +inexplicable. The strangeness of the occurrence paralyzed his will, and, +contrary to his usual self-dependence, he looked to Tait for guidance. + +"What do you think of it?" he asked irresolutely. + +"Ah! That requires some consideration, my friend. But before we go into +the matter let us understand our position toward each other. You believe +this story of your father's death?" + +"Certainly. Mr. Hilliston would not tell me an untruth, and moreover +this bundle of extracts from provincial newspapers confirms his +statement. I truly believe that my father, George Larcher, was murdered +at Horriston in 1866 by--and there you have me--I know not by whom. My +own opinion is that Jeringham is----" + +"One moment, Claude! Let us settle all preliminaries. Are you resolved +to take up this matter!" + +"I am! I must clear the memory of my mother, and avenge the death of my +father." + +"Would it not be better to let sleeping dogs lie?" suggested Tait, with +some hesitation. + +"I do not think so," replied Claude quietly. "I am not a sentimental +man, as you know; and my nature is of too practical a kind to busy +itself with weaving ropes of sand. Yet in this instance I feel that it +is my duty to hunt down and punish the coward who killed my father. When +I find him, and punish him, this ghost of '66 will be laid aside; +otherwise, it will continue to haunt and torture me all my life." + +"But your business?" + +"I shall lay aside my business till this matter is settled to my +satisfaction. As you know, I have a private income, and am not compelled +to work for my daily bread. Moreover, the last four years have brought +me in plenty of money, so that I can afford to indulge my fancy. And my +fancy," added Claude in a grim tone, "is to dedicate the rest of my life +to discovering the truth. Do you not approve of my decision?" + +"Yes, and no," said Tait evasively. "I think your hunt for an +undescribed criminal, whose crime dates back twenty-five years, is +rather a waste of time. All clews must have disappeared. It seems +hopeless for you to think of solving the mystery. And if you do," +continued the little man earnestly, "if you do, what possible pleasure +can you derive from such a solution? Your father is a mere name to you, +so filial love can have nothing to do with the matter. Moreover, the +criminal may be dead--he may be----" + +"You have a thousand and one objections," said Larcher impatiently, +"none of which have any weight with me. I am in the hands of Fate. A +factor has entered into my life which has changed my future. Knowing +what I now know, I cannot rest until I learn the truth. Do you know the +story of Mozart?" he added abruptly. + +"I know several stories of Mozart. But this special one I may not know." + +"It is told either of Mozart or Mendelssohn! I forget which," pursued +Larcher, half to himself. "When Mozart--let us say Mozart--was ill in +bed, one of his friends struck a discord on the piano, which required +what is technically known as a resolution for its completion. The +omission so tortured the sensitive ear of the musician that, when his +friend departed, he rose from his bed and completed the discord in +accordance with musical theory. Till that was done he could not rest." + +"And the point of your parable?" + +"Can you not see? This incomplete case of murder is my discord. I must +complete it by discovering the criminal, and so round off the case, or +submit to be tortured by its hinted mystery all my life. It is not +filial love, it is not sentiment, it is not even curiosity, it is simply +a desire to complete a matter hitherto left undone. Till I know the +sequel to the Horriston tragedy, I shall feel in a state of +suspense--and suspense," added Claude emphatically, "is torture to men +of my temperament." + +"Your reason is a trifle whimsical," said Tait, smiling at the +application of this musical theory to the present instance, "but I can +understand your feelings. Indeed, I feel the same way myself." + +"You!" + +"Why not? In reading 'A Whim of Fate,' I could not go to rest without +knowing the end, and I feel a like curiosity toward this tragedy of real +life. I shall not be content till I learn the truth. My feelings are +precisely the same as your own. Therefore," pursued Tait, with emphasis, +"I propose to assist you in your search. We will discuss the matter +calmly, and see what is best to be done. In spite of the lapse of +five-and-twenty years, who knows but what we may lay hands on the +murderer of your father, who is no doubt now living in fancied +security." + +"Unless he is dead." + +"Who is making the objections now?" said Tait, smiling. "Well, Claude, +will you accept me as your brother detective in this matter?" + +"Willingly, and I thank you for this proof of your friendship." + +"I am afraid there is an element of selfishness mixed up in my offer," +said Tait, shrugging his shoulders. "It is not every day that one can +find an interesting case like this to dissect. Excitement is the joy of +life, and I rather think we will be able to extract a great deal from +this investigation. Come! We now understand one another." + +Larcher grasped the hand held out to him, and gratefully accepted the +aid thus offered. From that moment the two dedicated themselves to hunt +down the criminal at whose hands George Larcher had met his death. It +was as strange a compact as had ever been made. Halting Nemesis, who had +rested all these years, once more resumed her stealthy progress, and +before her ran these two young men, as ministers of her long-delayed +revenge. This junction of unforeseen circumstances savored of the +dramatic. + +"The first thing to be done," said Tait, when the compact was thus +concluded, "is to read both cases." + +"Both cases!" repeated Claude curiously. + +"Yes! You remember how Browning gives half a dozen aspects of the same +case in his 'Ring and the Book.' In a minor degree we benefit in the +same manner. There," said Tait, pointing to the roll of newspapers, "is +the case from the real point of view, and here, in these three volumes, +we will find the same case as considered in a fictional fashion by the +novelist. By reading both we may come to some conclusion whence to start +in our talk. Last night you read the newspapers; I the novel. To-day we +will reverse the process. I will view the affair as set forth by the +provincial press, and you will devour the three volumes of John Parver +as I did last night." + +"And afterward?" + +"Eh! Who can say?" replied Tait, shrugging his shoulders. Several +sojourns in Paris had left their trace in Gallic gestures, and possibly +in Gallic flippancy. "We must know what foundation we have before we +build." + +Claude nodded. He was of the same way of thinking himself, and commented +on his friend's speech after his own fashion. + +"Yes," said he a trifle vindictively, "we must build our gallows stanch +and strong. You can proceed with your toilet, and afterward we will read +novels and newspapers, as you suggest. The result of our reading must +appear in our actions. I rather think," he added slowly, "that the +result will be a visit to Mr. Hilliston." + +"Without doubt. He was an eye-witness, and it is always preferable to +obtain evidence first hand." + +"Then," said Claude reflectively, "there is Mrs. Bezel." + +"Quite so! The enterprising lady who started the whole thing. Was she +also an eye-witness?" + +"I can't say. Her name does not appear in the newspapers." + +"Humph!" muttered Tait, scratching his chin. "Nor in those three volumes +can I find a character likely to develop into Mrs. Bezel of Hampstead." + +"I wonder who she can be," said Claude curiously, "or what she can have +to do with the case." + +"That we must find out. Depend upon it, there is more in this case than +in newspapers or novel. We must find out all about Mrs. Bezel, and," +said Tait, with emphasis, "we must learn all that is to be learned +concerning John Parver." + +"Who is John Parver?" + +"Who was the Man in the Iron Mask?" replied Tait, in a bantering tone. +"I cannot say. But whomsoever he may be, he knows all about this case." + +"There is that possibility, certainly," assented the other smoothly, +"but I think it hardly likely. A man of to-day would not readily come +across the account of a tragedy occurring in a little known town +twenty-five years ago. Do you know," he added, after a pause, "that it +occurs to me that the publication of this book, containing an account of +the case, may have been the cause which incited Mrs. Bezel to write the +letter." + +"I thought so myself. Mrs. Bezel may think that John Parver is a _nom de +plume_ assumed by Claude Larcher." + +"Or another alternative. Mrs. Bezel may be John Parver herself. It is +the fashion nowadays for women to write under the names of men." + +There was a few minutes' silence, during which each man was intent on +his own thoughts. Tait, whose brain turned quicker than that of +Larcher, was the first to break the silence. + +"Well," said he, moving briskly toward his bedroom door, "before we can +say or do anything we must learn the facts of the case." + +As he vanished into his room Claude laid his hand on the first of the +three volumes. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE." + + +ON the journey of life we sometimes come to a dead stop. Obstacles arise +which bar our further progress, and circumstances, impossible to do away +with, confront us on all sides. We cannot go back, for in life there is +no retrogression; we cannot proceed, owing to blocked paths, and so +stand hopeless and powerless, waiting for the word or action of Fate. +She, unseen but almighty deity, alone can remove the hindrance which +prevents our progress, and until she speaks or acts, we can do nothing +but wait. It is on such occasions that we feel how truly we are the +puppets of some unknown power. + +Francis Hilliston had arrived at some such stoppage. Hitherto his keen +brain, his strong will, his capability for decisive action, had carried +him onward from past to present, through present to future. When +obstacles had arisen they had been easily swept away, and with his own +life in his hands, he was perfectly satisfied of his power to mold it to +his liking. Possibly Fate, who is a somewhat jealous deity, felt angered +at the egotistic self-reliance of the man; for without warning she +brought him to a dead stop, then grimly waited to see how his boasted +cunning would outwit her. As she probably foresaw, the man did nothing +but await her decision. It was the only thing he could do. + +For five-and-twenty years the Horriston tragedy had been unmentioned, +unthought of; Hilliston deemed that it was relegated to the category of +unknown crimes, and having in mind his friendship for the parents, and +his love for the son, was not unwilling that it should be so. He did not +wish Claude to know of the matter, he was not desirous that he should +come in contact with Mrs. Bezel; and hitherto had managed so well that +neither contingency had eventuated. Congratulating himself on his +dexterity, he remained lulled in fancied security, when Fate, observant +of his complacency, sent a bolt from the blue, and brought him up short. +Now, Hilliston, forced by circumstances to tell the truth to Larcher, +did not know what to do. He could only wait for the fiat of the higher +power. + +Grimly satisfied that she had brought home his fault, and had shown him +his moral weakness, Fate made the next move, and sent Larcher and his +friend to Lincoln's Inn Fields to again set Hilliston on his former +journey. The paralysis of will which had seized the elder man did not +extend to the younger; for Claude arrived full of anxiety to begin the +search for the undiscovered criminal. The first result of his compact +with Tait was this visit to the lawyer. + +"Claude Larcher; Spenser Tait," muttered Hilliston, glancing at the +cards brought in by his clerk. "I thought as much; the matter is out of +my hands now. Show the gentlemen in," he added sharply. + +The clerk departed, and Hilliston walked quickly to the window, where he +stood biting his nails. All geniality had vanished from his face; he +looked older than his years, and an unaccustomed frown wrinkled his +expansive forehead. A crisis had come which he knew not how to meet; so, +after the fashion of men when they feel thus helpless, he left the +decision in the hands of Fate. Which was precisely what Fate wanted. + +"Good-morning, Claude! Good-morning, Mr. Tait!" said Hilliston, +welcoming the young men with artificial enthusiasm. "I expected to see +you today." + +"Surely you did not expect to see me?" said Tait, in a silky tone, as he +placed his hat on the table. + +"Indeed, I did! Where Damon is Phintias is sure to be. That Claude's +perusal of those papers would result in your accompanying him to this +office, I felt sure. I was right. Here you are!" + +Mr. Hilliston affected a cheerfulness he was far from feeling. With +increasing age a distaste had come for violent excitements, and with one +of Claude's temperament he knew that the chances were that the ensuing +quarter of an hour would be somewhat stirring. Contrary to his +expectations, however, Larcher was eager, but calm, and Hilliston, +assuring himself that the calmness was genuine, began to hope that the +interview would pass off better than he expected. Still, none of us like +to reopen a disagreeable chapter of the book of life, and this Mr. +Hilliston, against his will and inclination, was about to do. + +"Well, sir," said Claude, when they were all seated, and the hush of +expectancy was in the air, "I have read those papers." + +"Yes," said Mr. Hilliston interrogatively; "and what do you think of the +matter?" + +"I think it is a very black case." + +"You are quite right, Claude. It is a very black case indeed. I did all +in my power to bring the criminal to justice, but without success." + +"Who is the criminal?" asked Larcher, with a keen glance at his +guardian. + +Hilliston shuffled his feet uneasily, by no means relishing the +directness of the question. + +"That is a difficult question to answer," he said slowly; "in fact an +impossible one. My suspicions point to Jeringham." + +From this point Tait made a third in the conversation. + +"That is because Jeringham disappeared on the night of the murder," he +said leisurely. + +"Yes. I think that circumstance alone is very suspicious." + +"He was never found again?" + +"Never. We advertised in all the papers; we employed detectives, +inquired privately, but all to no result. The last person who saw +Jeringham was Mrs. Larcher. He parted from her at the door of The +Laurels, and vanished into the night. It still hides him." + +"What do you conclude from that, sir?" asked Claude, after a pause. + +"I can only conclude one thing," replied Hilliston, with great +deliberation, "that your father, suspicious of Jeringham, returned on +that night from London, and saw the parting. The result is not difficult +to foresee. It is my own opinion that there were words between the men, +possibly a struggle, and that the matter ended in the murder of your +father by Jeringham. Hence the discovery of the body thrown into the +river, hence the flight of the murderer." + +"Was this the generally received opinion at the time?" + +"Yes. I can safely say that it was believed Jeringham was guilty, and +had fled to escape the consequences of his crime." + +"In that case, how was it that Mrs. Larcher was arrested?" asked Tait +skeptically. + +"You cannot have read the case carefully, to ask me that," replied +Hilliston sharply. "She was arrested on the evidence of the dagger. +Without doubt the crime was committed with the dagger, and as she had +worn it, the inference was drawn that she was the guilty person. But she +was acquitted, and left the court--as the saying is--without a stain on +her character." + +"Nevertheless she died, Mr. Hilliston." + +"Shame killed her," said the lawyer sadly. "She was a foolish woman in +many ways,--your pardon, Claude, for so speaking,--but she was not the +woman to commit so foul a crime. Indeed, I believe she was fondly +attached to her husband till Jeringham came between them." + +"Ah!" interposed Tait composedly, "that is John Parver's view." + +"John Parver?" repeated Hilliston, with well-bred surprise. "I do not +know that name in connection with the case." + +"Nor do we know the name of Mrs. Bezel," said Claude quickly. + +Hilliston started, and looked at Claude as though he would read his very +soul. The inscrutability of the young man's countenance baffled him, and +he turned off the remark with a dry laugh. + +"With Mrs. Bezel we will deal hereafter," he said shortly; "but who is +this John Parver!" + +"He is the author of a book called 'A Whim of Fate.'" + +"A novel?" + +"Yes. A novel which embodies the whole of this case." + +"That is strange," said Hilliston quietly, "but no doubt the author has +come across the details in some old provincial journal, and made use of +them. The Larcher affair caused a great deal of talk at the time, but it +is certainly remarkable that a novelist should have made use of it for +fictional purposes after the lapse of so many years. I must read the +book. Just note the name of it here, Mr. Tait, if you please." + +Tait did so, and Hilliston continued: + +"Is my character in the book?" + +"I think so. Under the name of Michael Dene!" + +"I trust the author has been flattering to me. By the way, who does he +say committed the crime?" + +"Michael Dene." + +Hilliston went gray on the instant, as though a sudden blow had been +struck at his heart. Two pairs of keen eyes were fixed on his face with +some surprise, and uneasy at the scrutiny, he strove to recover his +composure. + +"Upon my word," he said, with quivering lips, "I am infinitely obliged +to John Parver for describing me as a murderer. And what motive does he +ascribe to me, or rather to Michael Dene, for the committal of the +crime?" + +"Love for the wife," said Tait, smiling. + +"Eh! That is rather the rôle of Jeringham, I should say," replied +Hilliston, the color coming back to lips and cheek. "I must read this +novel, and if possible discover the identity of the author." + +"Oh, we will do that!" + +"Claude!" cried the lawyer, in astonishment. + +"I and Tait. We intend to follow out this case to the end." + +"It is useless! Five-and-twenty years have elapsed." + +"Nevertheless, I am determined to hunt down the murderer of my father," +said Claude decisively. "Besides, we have two eye-witnesses to the +tragedy. Yourself and Mrs. Bezel." + +"Ah! Mrs. Bezel! I forgot her. Certainly, I will do all in my power to +help you, Claude. Your father was my dearest friend, and I shall only be +too glad to avenge his fate. But if I could not do it at the moment, how +can I hope to do so now--after so long a period has elapsed?" + +"Leave that to us, sir. Tait and I will attend to the active part of the +business. All we ask you to do is to give us such information as lies in +your power." + +"I will do that with pleasure," said Hilliston, who by this time was +thoroughly master of himself. "What is it you wish to know." + +"We wish to know all about Mrs. Bezel. Who is she? What has she to do +with the case? Why is not her name mentioned in these pages?" + +"For answers to these questions you had better apply to the lady +herself. You have her address. Why not call on her?" + +"I intend to do so to-morrow." + +The old man rose from his seat, and took a turn up and down the room. +Then he paused beside Claude, and laid a trembling hand on the young +man's shoulder. + +"I have been a good friend to you, Claude." + +"You have been my second father--my real father," said Larcher gently. +"I shall never forget your kindness. I would return it if I could." + +"Then do so, by letting sleeping dogs lie." + +"What do you mean by that, Mr. Hilliston?" asked the other, with a +subtle change in his tone. + +"Abandon this case. Do not call on Mrs. Bezel. You can do no good by +reopening the affair. It was a mystery years ago, it is a mystery still; +it will remain a mystery till the end of time." + +"Not if I can help it. I am sorry to disoblige you, sir, but my mind is +made up. I am determined to find out the truth." + +Hilliston sighed, passed his hand across his forehead, and returned to +his seat, hopeless and baffled. He was sufficiently acquainted with +Claude's character to know that he was not easily turned from his +purpose, and that his resolution to solve the mystery would be +resolutely carried out. Yet he made one more attempt to bend the young +man to his will. + +"If you are wise you will not call on Mrs. Bezel." + +"Why not, sir?" + +"It will give you great pain." + +"All my pain is past," replied Claude quickly. "I can suffer no more +than I did when reading these papers. I must call on Mrs. Bezel; I must +know the truth, and," added he significantly, "I have your promise to +assist me." + +"I will do all in my power," answered Hilliston wearily, "but you do not +know what are you doing. I am older and more experienced than you, and I +give you my best advice. Do not see Mrs. Bezel, and leave the Larcher +affair alone." + +The result of this well-meant advice was that Claude called the next +morning on Mrs. Bezel. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION. + + +MAN'S life has frequently been compared to a river. In childhood it is a +trickling thread, in youth a stream, in manhood a majestic river, and +finally in old age is swallowed up in the ocean of death. A very pretty +parable, but somewhat stale. It is time that life was indicated by a new +metaphor. Let us therefore compare the life of man to the ocean itself. +Like the ocean life has its calms and storms, its sullen rages, its +caressing moments; and like the ocean--for this is the main point of the +illustration--it has its profound depths, containing a hundred secrets +unknown to the outer world. Francis Hilliston was like the ocean: all +knew the surface, few were acquainted with the depths below. + +A man who leads a double life need never feel dull. He may be nervous, +anxious, fearful lest his secret should be discovered, but the constant +vigilance required to hide it preserves him from the curse of ennui. He +ever keeps the best side of his nature uppermost; his smiles are for the +world, his brow is smoothed to lull suspicion. But to continue the +simile of the ocean: in the depths lie many terrible things which never +come to the surface; things which he scarcely dare admit even to +himself. Francis Hilliston was one of these men. + +Everyone knew Hilliston of Lincoln's Inn Fields, or thought they did, +which is quite a different thing. He was widely respected in the +profession; he was popular in society; hand and glove with prominent and +wealthy personages. His house at Kensington Gore was richly furnished; +his wife was handsome and fashionable; he gave splendid entertainments, +at which none was more jocund than the host himself; he was, outwardly, +all that was prosperous and popular. In his professional capacity he was +the repository of a thousand secrets, but of all these none was more +terrible than the one locked up in his own breast. + +Long years of training, constant necessity, had taught him how to +control his emotions, to turn his face into a mask of inscrutability; +yet he succeeded ill at times, as witness his interview with the two +young men. Not all his powers of self-repression could keep his face +from turning gray; nor prevent the perspiration beading his brow; nor +steady his voice to well-bred indifference. Usually he succeeded in +masking his emotion; this time he had failed, and, worst of all, he knew +that he had failed. + +It was not Claude that he feared, for the young man was not of a +suspicious nature; and even had he been so, would certainly have scoffed +at the idea of attributing any evil to the one who had been to him a +father. Tait, silent, observant, and cynical, was the person to be +dreaded. Accustomed by his profession to read faces, Hilliston had seen +that the quiet little man was possessed of one of those inquisitive +penetrative natures, which suspect all men, and from a look, a gesture, +a pause, can draw evidence to support any suspicion they may entertain. + +Certainly Tait had no reason to distrust Hilliston when he entered the +room, but during the interview he appeared dissatisfied with the +lawyer's manner. That Hilliston should attempt to dissuade Claude from +prosecuting a search for his father's murderer seemed strange; but that +he should betray such marked agitation at the idea of such searching +taking place was stranger still. Altogether Tait left the office in a +very dissatisfied state of mind. Hilliston had sufficient penetration to +note this, and when left alone was at his wit's end how to baffle the +unwarrantable curiosity of this intruder. + +"I don't mind Claude," he said, pacing up and down the room, "he has not +sufficient brain power to find out anything. I do not want him to know. +But this Tait is dangerous. He is one of those dogged creatures, who +puts his nose to the scent, and never leaves the trail till the prey is +captured. It is with him I have to deal, not with Claude." + +His agitation almost mastered him, and he hurriedly took a small bottle +from a drawer in his desk. Dropping the contents of this into a glass of +water, he drank off the draught, and in a short space of time regained +his composure, in some measure. Then he sat down to think, and plot, and +plan how to baffle the vigilance of Tait. + +"That infernal woman has done it all," he muttered savagely; "she has +lighted the fire. Let us see how she will put it out. But she cannot put +it out," he added, striking his forehead with his clenched fist; "it +will blaze and burn. I shall burn with it unless----" + +There was a strange smile on his lips, as an idea entered his mind, and +he glanced quickly at his watch. + +"Four o'clock. Claude can't possibly call on Margaret to-day, so I have +yet time to prepare her for his visit. I must silence her at any cost. +She must hold her tongue or ruin us both. Great Heavens! to think that +she should break out like this after five-and-twenty years. It is enough +to drive me mad." + +By this time he had put on his gloves, and stretched his hand toward his +hat, which stood on a side table. A glance in the glass showed him how +old and gray he looked, and the sight was so unexpected that he started +in dismay. + +"Bah! I look as though I were going to fail," he said to himself, "but I +must not fail. I dare not fail. At sixty, rich, honored, respected, I am +not going to fall from the pedestal I have reached. I shall reassure +Claude. I shall baffle Tait. I shall silence Margaret. The first move in +the game is mine." + +Calm, dignified, easy, he left his office, and stepped into the brougham +waiting at the door. To judge by appearance, one would have thought him +the most respectable and upright man in London. No one knew what lurked +behind that benevolent expression. His mask had fallen for the moment +when Tait was present; now it was on again, and he went forth to deceive +the world. Yet he had an uneasy consciousness that one man at least +guessed his real character. + +"Never mind," he thought, as the footman closed the door of the +brougham, "it will be strange if, with my age and experience and +reputation and money, I cannot baffle him." + +He did not go direct home, as it was yet early, and he had one or two +things to do in connection with his new task. First he drove to Tait's +chambers, and ascertained from the porter that the two young men were +within. + +"Never mind sending up my name, I won't disturb them," he said, when the +porter requested his card. "I only wished to speak to Mr. Tait about a +box at the theater." + +"If it is the Lyceum you mean, sir, I have just got two stalls for Mr. +Tait." + +"Ah! I may see them there," replied Hilliston negligently; and as he +drove away reflected: "Good! They have not yet been to Hampstead; nor do +they intend to go to-night. Mr. Tait has yet to learn the value of +time." + +Driving through Piccadilly he stopped at a bookshop, and with some +difficulty, for the demand was large, obtained a copy of "A Whim of +Fate." He began to read it in the brougham, and skimmed its pages so +rapidly that by the time he reached Kensington Gore he had nearly +finished the first volume. He did not recognize himself in the character +of Michael Dene, and became more convinced than ever that the +coincidence of the Larcher affair forming the plot of a novel, was due +to the author's reading the case in some old provincial newspaper. On +every page it betrayed that, to him, the story was hearsay. + +Fortunately Mrs. Hilliston was driving in the Park, so the lawyer shut +himself up in his library, and went on reading the story. He did not see +his wife till dinner, which took place at eight o'clock, and then +descended in his ordinary clothes, looking ill and pale. Something he +had read in the novel had startled him more than he cared to +confess--even to himself. + +"You must excuse my dress, Louise," he said, on taking his seat, "but I +have been so engrossed with a novel that I did not hear the dressing +bell." + +"It has not had a pleasant effect on you," replied his wife, smiling; +"you do not look at all well." + +"I am not well," said Hilliston, who merely trifled with his food; "you +must excuse me going with you to the Lamberts' to-night, as I think I +shall call in and see my doctor." + +"Are you so bad as all that?" questioned Mrs. Hilliston anxiously. "Why +not send for Dr. Bland?" + +"I prefer going to see him, Louise. You will probably not be back till +three in the morning, so I will go to bed immediately on my return. Have +no fear, my dear, it is only a trifling indisposition." + +After these plain statements it was rather strange that Hilliston, in +place of driving to Dr. Bland's, who lived in Hill Street, should direct +the cab, which he picked up by the Park railings, to drive to Hampstead. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + MRS. BEZEL. + + +ONE cannot always judge by appearances either as regards human beings or +houses. Mr. Hilliston was one excellent illustration of this rule; +Clarence Cottage was another. It was in a narrow and crooked lane +trending downward to the right, at the summit of Fitzjohn's Avenue; an +unpretentious two-story building, divided from the public thoroughfare +by a well-cultivated garden. Therein grew thyme and lavender, marigolds +and pansies; for the owner of the cottage loved those homely flowers, +and daily gazed at them from the bow-window wherein her couch was +placed. + +Mrs. Bezel never walked in her garden, for the all-sufficient reason +that she was a helpless paralytic, and had not used her limbs for over +ten years. Still a moderately young woman of forty-five, she possessed +the remains of great beauty, ravaged by years of anxiety and mental +trouble. Those passing along the lane usually saw her pale face at the +window, and pitied the sufferings written in every line; sufferings +which were apparent even to a casual glance. Noting the homely garden, +the mean-looking dwelling, the anxious expression of the invalid, they +deemed her to be some poor sickly creature, the scapegoat of nature and +the world, who had sought this secluded spot in order to hide her +troubles. This view was not entirely correct. + +She was in ill-health, it is true; she dwelt in a small house certainly; +and the anxious expression was seldom absent from her face. But she was +in easy circumstances, untroubled by pecuniary worries, and the interior +of the cottage was furnished with a magnificence more suggestive of Park +Lane than of Hampstead. The outward aspect of the house, like that of +Mr. Hilliston, was a lie. + +Her sitting room resembled the boudoir of some Mayfair beauty. The +curtains were of silk, the carpet velvet pile, the walls were adorned +with costly pictures, and every corner of the small apartment was filled +with sumptuous furniture. All that art could contribute, all that +affection could suggest, were confined in the tiny space, and had Mrs. +Bezel possessed the mines of Golconda she could not have been more +luxuriously lodged. The house was a gem of its kind, perfect and +splendid. + +Mrs. Bezel took little interest in these material comforts. Her life was +passed between a couch in the bow-window, a well-cushioned chair by the +fire, and a downy bed in the next room. She had little appetite and did +not enjoy her food; mental anxiety prevented her interesting herself in +the splendors around her; and the only pleasure she took was her dreary +journey in a Bath-chair when the weather permitted. Then, as she inhaled +the fresh breeze blowing across the Heath, she gazed with longing eyes +at London, almost hidden under its foggy veil, far below, and always +returned with reluctance to the familiar splendors of her narrow +dwelling. Fortune had given her much, but by way of compensation had +deprived her of the two things she most desired--of health and of love. + +Even on this warm June evening a fire burned in the grate, for Mrs. +Bezel was a chilly creature, who shrunk at the least breath of wind. +According to custom, she had left the window couch at seven o'clock, and +had taken her simple meal while seated in her large chair to the right +of the fireplace. After dinner she took up a novel which was placed on a +small table at her elbow, and tried to read; but her attention was not +fixed on the book, and gradually it fell from her hands, while she gazed +idly at the fire. + +What she saw therein Heaven only knows. We all have our moments of +retrospection, and can picture the past in the burning coals. Some even +picture the future, but there was none for this woman. She was old, +weary, diseased, worn-out, and therefore saw in the fire only the +shadows of past years. Faces looked out of the flaming valleys, scenes +arranged themselves in the red confusion; but among them all there was +always one face, one scene, which never vanished as did the others. This +special face, this particular scene, were fixed, immovable, cruel, and +insistent. + +The chime of the clock striking half-past nine roused her from her +reverie, and she again addressed herself to the novel with a sigh. +Tortured by her own thoughts, Mrs. Bezel was not accustomed to retire +before midnight, and there were nearly three hours to be got through +before that time. Her life was as dreary, and weary, and heart-breaking +as that of Mariana in the Moated Grange. + +The tread of a firm footfall in the distance roused her attention, and +she looked expectantly toward the door, which faced her chair. The +newcomer passed up the narrow garden path, entered the house, and, after +a pause in the hall, presented himself in the sitting room. Mrs. Bezel +knew who it was before the door opened; for standing on the threshold +was the man with the face she had lately pictured amid the burning +coals. Francis Hilliston and the woman who called herself Mrs. Bezel +looked steadily at one another, but no sign of welcome passed between +them. He was the first to break the awkward silence. + +"How are you this evening, Margaret?" he asked, advancing toward her; +"better, I hope. There is more color in your cheeks, more brightness in +your eyes." + +"I am the same as ever," she replied coldly, while he drew a chair close +to the fire, and stretched out his hands to the blaze. "Why have you +come here at this hour?" + +"To see you." + +"No doubt! But with what purpose?" + +Hilliston pinched his nether lip between finger and thumb, frowning the +while at the fire. Whatever had been, there was now no love between this +woman and himself. But on no occasion had he noted so hostile a tone in +her voice. He was aware that a duel of words and brains was about to +ensue, and, knowing his antagonist, he took the button off his foil. +There was no need for fine speaking or veiled hints in this +conversation. It was advisable that all should be plain and +straightforward, for they knew each other too well to wear their masks +when alone. Under these circumstances he spoke the truth. + +"I think you can guess my errand," he said suavely. "It concerns the +letter you wrote to Claude Larcher." + +"I thought as much! And what more have you to say in connection with +that affair?" + +"I have merely to inform you that the man whom you desire to see is in +London, and will no doubt answer your kind invitation in person." + +Mrs. Bezel stretched out her hand and selected a letter from the little +pile on her table. + +"If you will look at that," she said coldly, "you will see that Claude +intends to call on me at three o'clock to-morrow." + +Taking the letter in silence, Hilliston turned frightfully pale, and the +perspiration stood in large beads on his forehead. He expected some such +appointment to be made, yet the evidence in his hand startled him all +the same. The promptitude of action spoke volumes to one of his acute +perceptions. To defend his good name would require all his skill and +experience, for he had to do with men of action, who acted as quickly as +they thought. The duel would be more equal than he had thought. + +"Are you still determined to tell all," he said in a low tone, crushing +the paper up in his hand. + +"Yes." + +The monosyllable was uttered in so icy a manner that Hilliston lost his +temper completely. Before this woman there was no need for him to retain +his smiling mask, and in a frenzy of rage he hurried into rapid speech, +frantic and unconsidered. + +"Ah, you would ruin me!" he cried, springing to his feet; "you would +drag up those follies of '66, and make London too hot to hold me! Have I +not implored, threatened, beseeched, commanded--done everything in my +power to make you hold your peace? Miserable woman, would you drag the +man you love down to----" + +"The man I loved you mean," responded Mrs. Bezel, in nowise moved by +this torrent of abuse. "Pray do not be theatrical, Francis. You know me +well enough to be aware that when my mind is made up I am not easily +moved. A man of your brains," she added scornfully, "should know that +loss of temper is but the prelude to defeat." + +Recognizing the truth of this remark, Hilliston resumed his seat, and +subdued his anger. Only the look of hatred in his eyes betrayed his real +feelings; otherwise he was calm, suave, and self-controlled. + +"Have you weighed the cost of your action?" he demanded quietly. + +"Yes. It means ruin to us both. But the loss is yours, not mine. +Helpless and deserted, life has no further charms for me, but you, Mr. +Hilliston, doubtless feel differently." + +"Margaret," he said entreatingly, "why do you speak like this? What harm +have I done you that----" + +"What harm!" she interrupted fiercely. "Have you not ruined me, have you +not deserted me, have you not robbed me of all that I loved? My life has +been one long agony, and you are to blame for it all. Not a word," she +continued imperiously. "I shall speak. I insist upon your knowing the +truth!" + +"Go on," he said sullenly; "I listen." + +"I loved you once, Francis. I loved you to my own cost. For your sake I +lost everything--position, home, respect, and love. And you--what did +you do?" + +Hilliston looked round the room, and shrugged his shoulders. Look and +gesture were so eloquent that she commented on them at once. + +"Do you think I valued this splendor? I know well enough that you gave +me all material comforts. But I wanted more than this. I wanted love." + +"You had it." + +"Aye! I had the passion such as you call love. Did it endure? You know +well that it did not. So long as I was healthy and handsome and bright +your attentions continued, but when I was reduced to this state, ten +years ago, what did you do? Left me to marry another woman." + +"It was not my fault," he muttered uneasily; "my affairs were involved, +and, as my wife had money, I was forced to marry her." + +"And you did marry her, and no doubt neglect her as you do me. Is Mrs. +Hilliston any happier in her splendid house at Kensington Gore than I in +this miserable cottage? I think not. I waited and waited, hoping your +love would return. It did not; so I took my own course--revenge!" + +"And so wrote to Claude Larcher!" + +"Yes. Listen to me. I wrote the first letter on the impulse of the +moment. I had been reading a book called 'A Whim of Fate,' which +contained----" + +"I know! I know! I read it myself this evening." + +"Then you know that someone else is possessed of your secret. Who is +John Parver?" + +"I don't know. I intend to find out. Meanwhile I am waiting to hear the +conclusion of your story." + +Mrs. Bezel drew a long breath, and continued: + +"The book, which contained an account of the tragedy at Horriston, +brought the fact so visibly before me that I wrote on the impulse +telling you that I wished to see Claude, and reveal all. You came and +implored and threatened. Then my impulse became a fixed determination. I +saw how I could punish you for your neglect, and so persisted in my +scheme. I wrote to Claude, and he is coming here to-morrow." + +"What do you intend to tell him?" + +"So much of the death of his father as I know." + +"You must not--you dare not," said Hilliston, with dry lips. "It means +ruin!" + +"To you, not to me." + +"Impossible," he said curtly. "Our relations are too close for one to +fall without the other." + +"So you think," rejoined Mrs. Bezel coolly; "but I know how to protect +myself. And of one thing you may be assured, I will say nothing against +you. All I intend to do is to tell him of his father's death." + +"He knows it already." + +"What?" + +"Yes! Did you think I was not going to be beforehand with you," sneered +Hilliston triumphantly. "I guessed your intention when you wrote me that +letter, and when Claude arrived in town I saw him before he could call +here. I did not intend to tell him of the matter till your action forced +me to do so. He has read all the papers in connection with his father's +death, and intends to hunt down the murderer. Now, do you see what you +have done?" + +Apparently the brutal plainness of this speech strongly affected Mrs. +Bezel. It seemed as though she had not comprehended till that moment +what might be the result of her actions. Now an abyss opened at her +feet, and she felt a qualm of fear. + +"Nevertheless, I intend to go on now that I have begun," she said +gloomily. "I will answer any questions Claude may ask me." + +"You will put him in possession of a clew." + +"It is not improbable; but, as I said, life has no charms for me." + +"You don't think of my sufferings," said Hilliston bitterly, rising to +his feet. + +"Did you think of mine during all these lonely years?" she retorted, +with a sneer. "I shall punish you, as you punished me. There is such a +thing as justice in this world." + +"Well, I warn you that I shall protect myself." + +"That is your lookout. But I will show you this mercy, as I said before. +That nothing will be told by me of your connection with this affair. As +to myself, I will act as I think best." + +"You will tell him who you are?" + +"Yes; I will tell him my real name." + +"Then I am lost!" + +"Surely not," she rejoined scornfully. "Francis Hilliston is old enough +in villainy and experience to protect himself against a mere boy." + +"It is not Claude I fear, but his friend, Spenser Tait. He is the +dangerous person. But enough of this," added Hilliston, striking the +table imperiously. "I forbid you to indulge in these follies. You know I +have a means whereby to compel your obedience." + +"It is your possession of that means that has turned me against you," +she retorted dauntlessly. "If you give me back my----" + +"Margaret! Not a word more! Let things remain as they are." + +"I have said what I intend to do." + +Hilliston ground his teeth. He knew that nothing he could say or do +would shake the determination of this woman. He had already experienced +her resolute will, and not even the means of which he spoke would shake +her immovability. There was nothing more but to retire and protect +himself as best he could. At all events, she promised to remain neutral +so far as he was concerned. That was something gained. Before leaving +the house, however, he made one final effort to force her to his will. + +"I will not give you any more money." + +"I don't care, Francis. This cottage and its contents are settled on me. +A sale of this furniture will produce sufficient money to last my life. +I can't live long now." + +"I will deny all your statements." + +"Do so!" + +"I will have you declared insane and shut up in an asylum." + +Mrs. Bezel laughed scornfully, and pointed toward the door. + +"If that is all you have to say you had better go," she said jeeringly. +"You know well enough that you cannot harm me without jeopardizing your +own position." + +They looked at one another fiercely, each trying to outstare the other. +Hilliston's eyes were the first to fall, and he hastily turned toward +the door. + +"So be it," he said, with his hand on the knob; "you want war. You shall +have it. See Claude, tell him all. I can defend myself." + +On leaving the house a few minutes later, he paused irresolutely by the +gate and looked back. + +"If I could only find the paper," he muttered, "she could do nothing. As +it is----" + +He made a gesture of despair and plunged into the darkness. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + A FEW FACTS CONNECTED WITH THE CASE. + + +WHEN the two young men left Lincoln's Inn Fields after the momentous +interview with Hilliston, they walked on in silence for some distance, +each busied with his own thoughts. Like most solitaries, Tait had a +habit of speaking aloud, and, unmindful of the presence of Claude, he +stopped short at the gate of the New Law Courts to give vent to his +feelings. + +"It is decidedly suspicious," he said in a low tone, "and quite +inexplicable." + +"What are you talking about?" asked Claude irritably, whereupon Tait +became aware that he was not alone, but nevertheless showed no +disposition to balk the question. + +"I was thinking of Mr. Hilliston," he returned quietly. "I am not at all +satisfied with his conduct. He is hostile to us, Claude." + +"Hostile? Impossible! He is doing all in his power to help us." + +"So it appears," answered Tait dryly. "Nevertheless I think that he +intends to thwart us in our plans--if he can." + +"Now you are talking nonsense," said Claude, as they resumed their walk. +"Why, he first brought the case under my notice." + +"And why? Because he wanted to be beforehand with Mrs. Bezel. If he had +not told she would have done so, and naturally enough he wished to be +first in the field." + +"But I can't think ill of him," protested Larcher. "He has been a second +father to me." + +"No doubt! There is such a thing as remorse." + +"Remorse? You are mad!" + +"Not at all. I am suspicious. We will discuss Mr. Hilliston later on, +when I will give you my reasons for speaking thus. Meanwhile he has +decided to play a game against us!" + +"Nonsense! He has no motive." + +"Pardon me. I think he has, but what it is I am unable to say--as yet. +However, he will make two moves in the game within the next twenty-four +hours." + +"Indeed," said Claude ironically, "perhaps you can tell me what those +two moves will be." + +"Certainly," answered Tait serenely. "As to the first, he will call at +my rooms to find out if we have gone to see Mrs. Bezel to-night, +and----" + +"Why at your rooms?" + +"Because he thinks you are staying with me. And, moreover, knowing that +we are acting together, he knows your movements will coincide with +mine." + +"Ah! And the second move?" + +"He will write you a letter asking you to stay with him at Kensington +Gore." + +"I don't see what there is suspicious about that," said Claude +petulantly. + +"I know you don't. But it is my belief that he is afraid of your +investigations in this case, and wishes to keep you under his eye." + +"But good Heavens, man! he advised me to pursue the matter." + +"On the contrary, he advised you to let sleeping dogs lie." + +"So he did," cried Claude, with a sudden recollection of the interview. +"But why? What harm can my investigations do to him?" + +"Ah! That is a difficult question to answer," said Tait reflectingly. +"To my mind they will show that Hilliston was not the friend of your +father he pretended to be." + +"But according to those papers he acted like a friend throughout." + +"Yes, according to those papers." + +Larcher faced round suddenly, struck by the significance of the remark. +He was a clever young man, but could not see clearly before him, and +honest himself, was far from suspecting dishonesty in others. Instead of +agreeing with Tait in his estimate of Hilliston, he vehemently defended +the lawyer. + +"You must not speak like that, Tait," he said angrily. "Mr. Hilliston is +an honest man, and has been like a father to me. I owe all to him." + +"Perhaps you do," retorted Tait significantly. "However, we need not +quarrel over the matter. I am content to wait, and will bet you five +pounds that the inquiry is made to-night, and the letter is sent +to-morrow." + +Larcher did not accept the bet thus confidently offered, but walked on +stiffly with his head in the air. He was seriously annoyed with Tait for +daring to cast an imputation on the character of a man to whom he owed +all. Never could he bring himself to believe that Hilliston intended him +evil, and deemed that the lawyer, despite his manifest reluctance, would +help him by all the means in his power to discover the assassin. + +Nevertheless, Tait proved to be in the right. As the two young men +passed down the stairs on their way to the theater--whence Tait insisted +on taking Claude with a view of distracting his mind--they were met by +the porter. + +"Beg pardon, sir," addressing himself to Tait, "but a gentleman called +some time ago and asked for you and Mr. Larcher." + +"Who was he? Why did you not show him up?" + +"He would not give his name, sir, and did not wish to come up. He only +asked if you had a box for the theater, and when I said you had stalls, +drove off." + +"Ah! Can you describe his appearance?" + +"Not very tall, sir. Clean shaven, with white hair and a red face. +Looked like a country gentleman, sir." + +"Thank you! that will do," replied Tait quietly, and left the house with +Claude. + +For a few minutes he enjoyed his companion's astonishment at this proof +of Hilliston's double-dealing, and it was not till they were in the cab +that he spoke. + +"Well," he said, smiling, "was I not right when I said that he would +make the first move?" + +"You are right so far," muttered Claude, who looked ill at ease, "but I +cannot bring myself to suspect my guardian." + +"You want another proof, perhaps. Well, we will wait for your invitation +to Kensington Gore." + +Claude shook his head, and seemed so indisposed to talk that Tait judged +it wise to humor his silence. The young man's thoughts were anything but +pleasant. He had been accustomed to look up to Hilliston as the model of +an English gentleman, honest, honorable, upright, and noble. If, then, +this suspicion of Tait's should prove correct,--and the last act of +Hilliston certainly gave color to it,--where was he to find honest and +honorable men? If Hilliston proved false, then Claude felt he could no +longer trust the human race. Still he fought against the supposition, +and secretly hoped that the second prophecy of his friend would not be +fulfilled. + +Alas, for his hopes! At eleven the next morning, while they were +discussing the situation, a letter was delivered to Claude by special +messenger. It proved to be from Hilliston, and contained a warm +invitation for Larcher to take up his abode at the Kensington Gore +house. "As you may only be in London for a short period, my dear +Claude," wrote his guardian, "my wife and I must see as much of you as +possible." With a bitter smile Claude tossed the letter across to Tait. + +"You see I was right," said the latter, for the second time, after +skimming the note. "Mr. Hilliston is playing a double game. He wishes to +keep you under his eye, thinking that, as you trust him, you will keep +him informed as to your doings, so that being forewarned he may be +forearmed." + +"Do you really think he is my enemy, Tait?" + +"I am really not prepared to say," replied the little man, with some +hesitation. "His behavior of yesterday struck me as suspicious. He +seemed unnecessarily agitated, and moreover urged you not to see Mrs. +Bezel. Perhaps he thinks she will tell you too much. Taking all these +facts into consideration I cannot help thinking that Hilliston is asking +you to his house for some motive in connection with our search." + +"But he showed me the papers." + +"I know that, but as I told you yesterday it was Hobson's choice with +him. If he hadn't imparted the information, Mrs. Bezel would have done +so. Of two evils he chose the least, and by showing you the papers +proved to all outward appearance that he was your firm friend. Should +you bring any charge against him, he will meet it by the very argument +you have just made use of." + +"Good Heavens!" groaned Claude, in despair, "is everybody as treacherous +as you think him to be." + +"A good number of people are," replied Tait suavely. "A long residence +in London does not strengthen one's belief in human nature. It is a city +of wild beasts,--of wolves and foxes,--who rend and betray for the +gaining of their own ends. If Hilliston is what I believe him to be, we +must do our best to baffle him; and so you must continue to be his +friend." + +"How can I, if he wishes to betray me?" + +"Ah, you are so unsophisticated, Claude," said the hardened man of the +world; "you betray your feelings too plainly. In this city it is worse +than madness to wear your heart on your sleeve. If you are convinced +that Hilliston bears you ill----" + +"I am not convinced. I can't believe any man would be so base." + +"Ah, bah, that is a want of experience," retorted Tait, raising his +eyebrows; "I'll pick you out a dozen of my decent friends who are as +base or baser than I believe them to be. Respectability is all a +question of concealment nowadays, and it must be confessed that your +guardian wears his mask very prettily." + +"But do you think he is----" + +"Never mind what I think," interrupted Tait impatiently. "Hilliston may +turn out to be an angel, after all. But his conduct of yesterday and +this morning appears to be suspicious, and in dealing with the matters +we have in hand it is as well to be careful. Keep your faith in +Hilliston if it assists you to continue the friendship. He must suspect +nothing." + +"Do you then wish me to accept this invitation?" + +"No. Why go into the lion's den? Write and thank him and--decline." + +"I have no excuse." + +"Indeed! Then I will provide you with one. You are engaged to stay with +me at Thorston for a month. By the end of that time you will know +sufficient of Hilliston to decide for yourself as to the wisdom of +accepting or declining his invitation." + +"But if we go to Thorston we cannot prosecute our inquiries." + +"Yes, we can. I tell you that book, which contains the story of your +father's murder, also contains a description of Thorston. I recognize +every scene." + +"Well?" + +"Well," repeated Tait sharply, "can't you see? The author of that book +must either live at Thorston or have stayed a few months there. Else he +could not have described the village so accurately. We must make +inquiries about him there, and should we be fortunate enough to discover +him, we must extract his secret." + +"What secret?" + +"Upon my word, Claude, you are either stupid or cunning. Why, find out +where he got his material from. That may put us on the right track. Now, +write to Hilliston, and then go up to Hampstead and find out what Mrs. +Bezel has to say." + +"Won't you come, too?" said Claude, going to the writing desk. + +"No. I have my own business to attend to." + +"Is it connected with our enterprise?" + +"I should think so. It is my intention to call on the firm who published +'A Whim of Fate,' and find out all I can concerning the author. When you +return from Mrs. Bezel we will compare notes, and on what information we +obtain will depend our future movements." + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + A STARTLING DISCOVERY. + + +IN one of his novels Balzac makes the pertinent remark that "It is +impossible for man to understand the heart of woman, seeing that her +Creator himself does not understand it." These are not the precise +words, but the sentiment is the same. And who, indeed, can understand a +woman's heart; who can aver that he has a complete comprehension of her +character? Very young men lay claim to such knowledge, but as they grow +older, and the vanity of youth gives way to the modesty begotten by +experience, they no longer pretend to such omniscience, and humbly admit +their inability to solve the riddle of femininity. Had the Sphinx +proposed such an enigma to oedipus he would not have been able to guess +it, and so, meeting the fate of other victims, would have deprived +Thebes of a king and Sophicles of a tragedy. + +Yet, if we bear in mind that women work rather from impulse than from +motive, we may arrive at some knowledge of the organ in question. If a +woman is impulsive, and most women are, she acts directly on those +impulses; and so startles men by paradoxical actions. As a rule, the +male intellect has logical reasons wherefrom it deduces motives upon +which to act. Not so with women. They obey the impulse of the moment, +reckless of the consequence to themselves or to anyone else. +Consequently, it is impossible to foretell how a woman will act in a +given circumstance, but it may be asserted that she will obey the latest +thought in her mind. Even from this point of view, the feminine mind is +still a riddle; but one which is more capable of explanation. + +For example, Mrs. Bezel read "A Whim of Fate," and thus, after +five-and-twenty years, the Horriston tragedy was freshly impressed on +her brain. Seized with remorse, terrified by the memory of the crime, +she, acting on the impulse, wrote to Hilliston stating that she intended +to see Claude Larcher and reveal all. The dismay of the lawyer at this +mad proposal, and his steady opposition thereto, turned what was +originally a mere whim into a fixed idea. She saw a way of punishing the +man for the withdrawal of his love ten years before, when she lost her +beauty and became paralyzed. Delighted at learning that she had still +some power to wound him, she persisted in her project, and so wrote the +letter to Larcher, which he received the day after his arrival in +London. + +To baffle Hilliston, and prevent him from intercepting the letter, she +was obliged to use all her wits, and so hit on the idea of learning the +name of the young man's club. How she managed to obtain it is best known +to herself; but Hilliston, never dreaming of this pertinacity, was +unable to thwart her schemes, and, beyond writing to Claude, telling him +to call, could do nothing. Had he guessed that she would address her +invitation to the club, he might have called and obtained it in the +character of Larcher's guardian; but, knowing her helpless condition, +the thought that it might be there never entered his mind. So the letter +arrived, was duly answered, and Claude was coming to-day at three +o'clock to hear what Mrs. Bezel had to say. + +The visit, though due to her own action, was a source of considerable +anxiety; for she was not at all certain of what she would say. It was +impossible to tell all without inculpating Hilliston, and this, for +reasons of her own, Mrs. Bezel was unwilling to do. All her talk of the +previous night had been so much rodomontade to frighten the man she +hated, but she was too well aware of her dependent position to think of +doing him an injury. Her impulse had led her into deep water, as she +knew instinctively. + +She was a woman who had lived every moment of her life, but now, +stretched on a bed of sickness, she missed her former triumphs and +excitements. This visit promised a great deal of amusement, and the use +of much diplomacy, therefore she was unwilling to abandon her plans. At +the same time she determined to give the young man as little information +as she possibly could. It would not be through her agency that the mask +would be torn from Hilliston's face. She was resolved on that point. + +Yet the matter, starting originally from an impulse, had now gone too +far for her to draw back. Claude had seen the papers, and therefrom must +have guessed that she desired to impart certain information with regard +to the crime which had cost him a father. Mrs. Bezel therefore +compromised the matter, and settled in her own mind to tell him half the +truth, or, at all events, only sufficient to interest him without aiding +him. Had she been a man, and had taken this decision, all would have +gone well, but being a woman she reckoned without her impulse, and it +betrayed her. + +Moreover, she had a revelation to make which would effectively tie +Larcher's hands should he learn too much; but this she did not intend to +make unless driven into a corner. She was in that corner before the +interview was finished, though she little expected to get there. +Hilliston, clever as he was, could not understand her present actions; +she did not understand them herself, else she would not have ventured to +receive Claude Larcher. + +He duly arrived at three o'clock, and Mrs. Bezel glanced approvingly at +his stalwart figure and handsome face. Claude had one of those +sympathetic, yet manly, natures, to which women are instinctively drawn +by the law of sex, and Mrs. Bezel proved no exception to this rule. She +was too thoroughly a woman not to relish masculine society, and, despite +her perplexity, was glad she had sent the invitation, if only for the +sake of talking to this splendid looking young man. There was another +reason, which she revealed in a moment of impulse. But that was later +on. + +Meanwhile Claude, seated by her couch in the window, was wondering who +she was, and why she had sought this interview. He was certainly aware +that she had some information to impart concerning the fate of his +parents, but as he had not seen her name in the papers containing the +account of the case, he was at a loss to fix her identity. His doubts +were soon set at rest. Mrs. Bezel was a more prominent actor in the +Horriston tragedy than he had any idea of. + +"You were doubtless astonished to get my letter," said Mrs. Bezel, when +the first greetings were over, "especially as you do not remember your +parents, and my name is also unknown to you." + +"Were you a friend of my parents, madam?" asked Claude, too anxious for +information to reply directly to her remark. + +"Yes. I--I knew them. That is, I lived at Horriston," stammered Mrs. +Bezel, passing a handkerchief across her dry lips. + +"You lived at Horriston? At the time of the murder?" + +Mrs. Bezel nodded; she was not yet sufficiently self-controlled for +speech. + +"In that case," continued Claude eagerly, "you must know all the details +of the crime." + +"Only those that were reported in the papers." + +"Still you must be acquainted with those concerned in the tragedy. With +my father, with Jeringham, Denis Bantry, with Mona, his sister." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Bezel calmly; "I knew them all." + +"Have you any idea who committed the crime?" + +"Not the slightest." + +"But you must have some suspicions?" + +"Oh, yes! But they may be wrong. I believe that Mr. Jeringham had +something to do with it." + +"Oh!" said Claude, remembering Hilliston's opinion, "some believe him to +be guilty." + +"I cannot say for certain," replied Mrs. Bezel, shaking her head. "The +flight of Mr. Jeringham certainly showed that he had something to +conceal." + +"What kind of a man was Mr. Jeringham?" + +"Tall and fair. Amiable as a rule, but liable to violent passions." + +"Was he not in love with my mother before she married my father?" + +Mrs. Bezel turned away her head, and the color rose to her face. The +nervous movement of her hands plucking at her dress showed how +profoundly she was moved by this question. + +"I believe so. But she--Mrs. Larcher loved her husband." + +"Then why was my father jealous of Jeringham?" said Claude, who could +not reconcile this statement with the evidence given at the trial. + +"How should I know?" cried Mrs. Bezel, turning on him with sudden +passion. "If George Larcher had not been so blinded by jealousy he would +have seen that there was nothing between them. Your mother knew +Jeringham all his life; they were like brother and sister. It is true he +wished to marry her, but when he saw that her heart was given to your +father, he bowed to her decision. He came to Horriston as her friend, +not as her lover." + +"But he was constantly with her." + +"Do you dare to speak thus of your mother, sir?" + +"I--I cannot help doing so," stammered Claude, startled by the anger in +her voice. "God knows I wish to revere the memory of my mother, but I +cannot help seeing that she was morally responsible for the tragedy." + +"She was not! She was not!" said Mrs. Bezel vehemently. "How dare you +speak thus? Your father neglected her. He left her to the companionship +of Mark Jeringham, while he indulged in his predilection for literary +work. All day long he shut himself up in his study, and let his wife sit +alone, and miserable. Was it any wonder, then, that she should turn to +her old friend for consolation? There was nothing between them--nothing +to which any Pharisee could have taken exception." + +"But surely my father was sufficiently sensible to see all this?" + +"He saw nothing, or what he did see was distorted by his jealousy. The +police, in their endeavors to fix the crime on your mother, took the +same view of the relations between her and Jeringham. Oh, I know what +you read in those papers shown to you by Mr. Hilliston!" + +So surprised was Claude by this unexpected introduction of his +guardian's name that he could not suppress a start. + +"How do you know that Mr. Hilliston showed me the papers?" + +Mrs. Bezel saw that she had said too much, but, unable to go back on her +words, rapidly resolved to make that revelation which she had hitherto +intended to keep as a last resource. + +"Mr. Hilliston told me that he had done so." + +"Do you know him?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Bezel, seizing her opportunity to lead up to the +revelation. "I know him as the best and kindest of men. I know him as +one who has been a good friend to you--orphan as you thought yourself." + +"Orphan as I thought myself," muttered Claude, turning pale. "Is it not +true--am I not an orphan?" + +"No!" + +"Great Heavens! What is this you tell me? My father----" + +"Your father is dead. He was murdered, as you know." + +"Then my mother?" + +Mrs. Bezel looked at the agonized face of the young man, and covered her +own, with a quick indrawn breath. + +"She lives!" + +"My mother! She lives! Are you mad? She died in London shortly after her +acquittal." + +"So it was supposed, but it was not true. Could you expect that unhappy +woman to face the scorn and contempt of the world after having been +accused of her husband's murder? She did not die, save to the world. She +fled from society and sought refuge here--here where she lies a helpless +invalid." + +"Mrs. Bezel!" + +"I am not Mrs. Bezel. I am your mother." + +"God! My mother!" + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + REVELATIONS. + + +IT was only natural that a silence should ensue between these two so +strangely brought together. Claude, seated pale and anguished in his +chair, tried to collect his thoughts, and stared wildly at his mother. +She, with her face buried in the cushions, sobbed bitterly. After the +way in which her son had spoken, it was cruel that she should have been +forced to make such a revelation at such a moment. He condemned, he +reproached, her conduct in the past, and she again tasted the full +bitterness of the cup which had been held to her lips twenty-five years +before. + +On his part Claude did not know what to say; he hardly knew what to +think. Convinced by a perusal of the papers that his mother was morally +guilty of his father's death, he was overwhelmed to find that she was +still alive, and capable, for all he knew, of offering a defense for her +share in the tragedy. After all, he had no right to judge her until he +heard what she had to say. Blood is thicker than water, and she was his +mother. + +Now he saw the reason why Hilliston objected to his calling at +Hampstead; why he advised him to let sleeping dogs lie. After so long a +period it was worse than useless to bring mother and son together. Their +thoughts, their aims, their lives, were entirely diverse, and only pain +could be caused by such a meeting. Claude silently acknowledged the +wisdom of Hilliston's judgment, but at the same time could hardly +refrain from condemning him for having kept him so long in ignorance of +the truth. + +Mrs. Bezel--as we must still continue to call her--was astonished at +this long silence, but raised her head to cast a timid glance at Claude. +His brow was gloomy, his lips were firmly set, and he looked anything +but overjoyed at the revelation which she had made. Guessing his +thoughts, the unhappy woman made a gesture of despair, and spoke in a +low voice, broken by sobs. + +"You, too, condemn me?" + +"No, mother," he replied, and Mrs. Bezel winced as she heard him +acknowledge the relationship; "I do not condemn you. I have heard one +side of the question. I must now hear the other--from you." + +"What more can I tell you than what you already know," she said, drying +her eyes. + +"I must know the reason why you let me think you dead all these years." + +"It was by my own wish, and by the advice of Mr. Hilliston." + +Claude bit his lip at the mention of this name, and cast a hasty glance +round the splendidly furnished room. A frightful suspicion had entered +his mind; but she was his mother, and he did not dare to give it +utterance. His mother guessed his thoughts, and spared him the pain of +speaking. With a womanly disregard for the truth she promptly lied +concerning the relationship which her son suspected to exist between his +guardian and herself. + +"You need not look so black, Claude, and think ill of me. I am +unfortunate, but not guilty. All that you see here is mine; purchased by +my own money." + +"Your own money?" replied Claude, heaving a sigh of relief. + +"Yes! Mr. Hilliston, who has been a good friend to me, saved sufficient +out of my marriage settlement to enable me to furnish this cottage, and +live comfortably. It is just as well," added she bitterly, "else I might +have died on the streets." + +"But why did you let Hilliston bring me up to think I was an orphan?" + +"I did not wish to shadow your life. I did not wish you to change your +name. I had to change mine, and retire from the world, but that was part +of my punishment." + +"Still if----" + +"It was impossible, I tell you, Claude," interrupted his mother +impatiently. "When you grew up you would have asked questions, and then +I would have been forced to tell you all." + +"Yet, in spite of your precautions, I do know all. If you took all this +trouble to hide the truth, why reveal it to me now?" + +Mrs. Bezel pointed to three books lying on an adjacent table. Claude +quite understood what she meant. + +"I see," he remarked, before she could speak, "you think that the author +of that book knows about my father's murder." + +"I am certain he does. But what he knows, or how he knows, I cannot say. +Still, I am certain of one thing, that he tells the story from hearsay." + +"What makes you think that?" + +"It would take too long to tell you my reasons. It is sufficient to +state that the fictitious case differs from the real case in several +important particulars. For instance," she added, with a derisive smile, +"the guilty person is said to be Michael Dene, and he is----" + +"Is drawn from Mr. Hilliston." + +"How do you know that?" she asked, with a startled air. + +Claude shrugged his shoulders. "I have eyes to read and brains to +comprehend," he said quietly; "There is no doubt in my mind that the +lawyer of the fiction is meant for the lawyer of real life. Otherwise, I +think the writer drew on his imagination. It was necessary for him to +end his story by fixing on one of the characters as a criminal; and +owing to the exigencies of the plot, as developed by himself, he chose +Michael Dene, otherwise Mr. Hilliston, as the murderer." + +"But you don't think----" + +"Oh, no! I don't think Mr. Hilliston is guilty. I read the trial very +carefully, and moreover I do not see what motive he could have to commit +the crime." + +"The motive of Michael Dene is love for the murdered man's wife." + +"In other words, the author assumes that Hilliston loved you," said +Claude coolly; "but I have your assurance that such is not the case." + +"You speak to me like that," cried Mrs. Bezel angrily; "to your mother?" + +Larcher's expression did not change. He turned a trifle paler, and +compressed his lips firmly, otherwise he gave no outward sign of his +emotion. Knowing so much of the case as he did, he could not look on +this woman in the light of a mother; she had indirectly contributed to +his father's death; she had deserted him for twenty-five years; and +now that she claimed his filial reverence, he was unwilling to yield +it to her. Perhaps he was unjust and harsh to think this, but the +natural tie between them was so weakened by time and ignorance that he +could find no affection in his heart to bestow on her. To him she was a +stranger--nothing more. + +"Let us understand each other," he said coldly. "That you are my mother +is no doubt true, but I ask you if you have performed your maternal +duties? You obliterated yourself from my life; you left me to be brought +up by strangers; in all ways you only consulted your own desires. Can +you then expect me to yield you that filial obedience which every mother +has a right to expect from her son? If you----" + +"Enough, sir," said Mrs. Bezel, white with anger, "say no more. I +understand you only too well, and now regret that I sought this +interview, which has resulted so ill. I hoped that you would be glad to +find your mother still alive; that you would cherish her in her +affliction. I see I was wrong. You are as cold and bitter as was your +father." + +"My father?" + +"Yes. Do you think that all the wrong was on my side. Had I nothing to +forgive him? Ah! I see by your face that you know to what I allude. It +was your father and my husband who betrayed me for Mona Bantry." + +"You have no proof of that," said Claude, in a low voice. + +"I have every proof. The girl told me with her own lips. I returned from +that ball at three o'clock in the morning, and Mr. Jeringham left me at +the door. I entered the house alone and proceeded to my sitting room. +There I found Mona and--my husband." + +"Ah! He did return from London on that night?" + +"Yes. He returned, thinking I was out of the way, in order to see his +mistress. In his presence she confessed her guilt. I looked to him for +denial, and he hung his head. Then hardly knowing what I did, overcome +with rage, I snatched the dagger which I wore as part of my costume, +and----" + +"And killed him," shrieked Claude, springing to his feet. "For Heaven's +sake, do not confess this to me!" + +"Why not? I did no wrong! I did not kill him. I fainted before I could +cross the room to where he stood. When I recovered I was alone. My +husband and Mona Bantry had disappeared. Then I retired to bed and was +ill for days. I know no more of the case." + +"Is this true?" asked Claude anxiously. + +"Why should it not be true? Do you think I would invent a story like +that to asperse the memory of your father? Vilely as he treated me, I +loved him. I do not know who killed him. The dagger I wore disappeared +with him. It was found in the garden; his body in the river four miles +down. But I declare to you solemnly that I am ignorant of whose hand +struck the blow. It might have been Mona, or Jeringham, or----" + +"Or Hilliston!" + +"You are wrong there," replied his mother coolly, "or else your judgment +has been perverted by that book. Mr. Hilliston was still at the ball +when the tragedy occurred. His evidence at the trial proved that. Don't +say a word against him. He has been a good friend to you--and to me." + +"I do not deny that." + +"You cannot! When I was arrested and tried for a crime which I never +committed, he stood by me. When I left the court alone and friendless, +he stood by me. I decided to feign death to escape the obloquy which +attaches to every suspected criminal. He found me this refuge and +installed me here as Mrs. Bezel. He took charge of you and brought you +up, and looked after your money and mine. Don't you dare to speak +against him!" + +Exhausted by the fury with which she had spoken, the unfortunate woman +leaned back in her chair. Claude, already regretting his harshness, +brought a glass of water, which he placed to her lips. After a few +minutes she revived, and feebly waved him away; but he was not to be so +easily dismissed. + +"I am sorry I spoke as I did, mother," he said tenderly, arranging her +pillows. "Now that I have heard your story, I see that you have suffered +greatly. It is not my right to reproach you. No doubt you acted for the +best; therefore, I do not say a word against you or Mr. Hilliston, but +ask you to forgive me." + +The tears were rolling down Mrs. Bezel's cheeks as he spoke thus, and +without uttering a word, she put her hand in his in token of +forgiveness. Claude pressed his lip to her faded cheek, and thus +reconciled--as much as was possible under the circumstances--they began +to talk of the case. + +"What do you intend to do?" asked Mrs. Bezel weakly. + +"Find out who killed my father." + +"It is impossible--after five-and-twenty years. I have told you all I +know, and you see I cannot help you. I do not know whom to suspect." + +"You surely have some suspicion, mother?" + +"No, I have no suspicions. Whomsoever killed your father took the dagger +out of my sitting room." + +"Perhaps Mona----" + +"I think not. She had no reason to kill him." + +"He had wronged her." + +"And me!" cried Mrs. Bezel vehemently. "Do not talk any more of these +things, Claude. I know nothing more; I can tell you nothing more." + +"Then I must try and find John Parver, and learn how he became +acquainted with the story." + +"That is why I sent for you; why I revealed myself; why I told you all I +have suffered. Find John Parver, and tell me who he is, what he is." + +This Claude promised to do, and, as his mother was worn out by the long +conversation, he shortly afterward took his leave. As he descended +Fitzjohn's Avenue a thought flashed into his mind as to the identity of +John Parver. + +"I wonder if John Parver is Mark Jeringham?" said Claude. + +The question was to be answered on that very evening. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + ON THE TRACK. + + +IT was nearly six o'clock when Claude returned to Earls Street, and +Tait, already dressed for the evening, was waiting his arrival with +considerable impatience. His usual imperturbability had given place to a +self-satisfied air, as though he had succeeded in accomplishing a +difficult undertaking. He uttered a joyful exclamation when he saw +Claude enter, but a look of apprehension passed over his face when he +noted the altered appearance of his friend. + +"What is wrong?" he asked, as Claude threw himself into a chair, with a +sigh of fatigue. "Do you bring bad news? My dear fellow, you are +completely worn out. Here, Dormer, a glass of sherry for Mr. Larcher." + +The servant, who was putting the finishing touches to the dinner-table, +speedily obeyed this order, and Tait made his friend drink the wine +without delay. Then he proceeded to question him regarding the reason of +his pallor, but with his usual caution first sent Dormer out of the +room. Only when they were alone did he venture to speak on the subject +about which both were thinking. + +"Well!" he demanded anxiously, "you saw Mrs. Bezel?" + +"Yes; I was with her for two hours." + +"Ah!" said Tait, with great satisfaction; "she must have told you a good +deal in that time." + +"She did. She told me more than I expected." + +"Did it concern your parents?" + +"It did." + +"Good! Then you no doubt heard her version of the crime." + +"Yes!" + +These unsatisfactory replies, which dropped so strangely from Larcher's +lips, at once puzzled and irritated the questioner. + +"You don't seem anxious to confide in me," he said, in a piqued tone. + +"I will tell you all. I am anxious to tell you all," replied Larcher, +finding his tongue, "but I do not know how to begin." + +"Oh, I shall save you that trouble by asking you questions. In the first +place, who is Mrs. Bezel?" + +"My mother!" + +Tait bounded from his chair with an expression of incredulity. This +unexpected information, so abruptly conveyed, was too much for his +self-control. + +"Your mother!" he stammered, hardly thinking he had heard aright. "Are +you in earnest? I cannot believe it. According to the notice in the +newspapers, according to Hilliston, your mother died in London in 1867." + +"She did not die. Her death was a feigned one, to escape the notoriety +gained by her trial at Canterbury." + +"Did Mr. Hilliston know she was alive?" + +"Yes. It was by his advice that she changed her name." + +"Oh! Oh!" said Tait, with marked significance; "Hilliston knew, +Hilliston advised. Humph! John Parver may be right, after all." + +"Tait, be silent! You are speaking of my mother." + +"I beg your pardon, my dear fellow, but I really do not understand." + +"You will shortly. I will tell you the story of my mother's troubles, +and Hilliston's kindness." + +"Hilliston's kindness," repeated Tait, in a skeptical tone. Nevertheless +he resumed his seat, and signified his willingness to hear the +narrative. + +The wine had done Claude good, and restored his self-possession; so, now +master of himself, he related all that had passed between himself and +Mrs. Bezel. Gifted with a retentive memory, and no mean powers as a +narrator, he succeeded in giving Tait a vivid impression of the +conversation. The little man, with his head slightly on one side, like a +bright-eyed sparrow, listened attentively, and not till the story was +finished did he make an observation thereon. To this capability of +listening without interruption Tait owed a great deal of his popularity. + +"Truth is stranger than fiction, after all," said he, when Claude ended; +"and the novel is less dramatic than the episode of real life. John +Parver did not dare to insinuate that the supposed dead widow of the +murdered man was alive. Humph! this complicates matters more than ever." + +"At least it clears the character of Hilliston." + +"Yes," assented Tait doubtfully; "I suppose it does." + +"Can you doubt it?" said Larcher, dissatisfied with this grudging +consent. "You can now see why Hilliston was agitated at our interview; +why he asked me not to see Mrs. Bezel, so-called; why he called here the +same evening to find out if I had gone; and finally why he wished to +prepare me before seeing her, by telling of the tragedy." + +"Oh, I see all that," said Tait quietly. "Nine men out of ten would +consider Hilliston a most disinterested person. But I am the tenth man, +and am therefore skeptical of his motive." + +"But what motive can he have for----" + +"That is just it," interrupted Tait vivaciously. "I can't see his +motive, but I will find it out some day." + +"Well, you can speak for yourself," said Claude, frowning. "After what +my mother has told me, I believe Hilliston to be an upright and +honorable man." + +"You are quite right to do so on the evidence. Still, if I were you I +would not keep him informed of all our movements, unless----Do you +intend to go on with the matter?" he asked abruptly. + +"Assuredly! I am determined to find out who killed my father." + +Tait walked to the fireplace and took up his position on the hearth-rug. +An idea had entered his mind, which he did not intend to put into words. +Nevertheless it was indirectly the reason for his next speech. + +"I think, after all, it would be best to take Hilliston's advice, and +let sleeping dogs lie." + +He had not calculated the effect of these words on his hearer, for +Claude also arose from his chair, and looked at him with angry surprise. + +"I don't understand you," he said coldly. "Some hours back, and you were +more eager than I to pursue this unknown criminal. Now you wish to +withdraw. May I ask the reason of this sudden change." + +"It seems to be useless to hope to find the assassin," replied Tait, +shrugging his shoulders. "One cannot discover a needle in a haystack." + +"Oh, yes you can--by patient research." + +"Well, even that would be easier than to hope to solve a mystery which +has been impenetrable for five-and-twenty years." + +"It has been impenetrable for that time because no one has tried to +solve it. This is not your real reason for wishing to end the case. What +is your reason? Speak! I insist upon knowing the truth." + +The other did not reply, but thrust his hands deeper into his pockets, +and maintained a masterly silence. Irritated by this negative attitude, +Claude placed his hands on the little man's shoulders and looked at him +indignantly. + +"I know what your reason is, Tait," he said rapidly; "it is not that you +fear we may learn too little, but that you expect we will learn too +much." + +"Yes," replied Tait simply, "that is the reason. Is it not an +all-sufficient one for you to pause?" + +"No!" shouted Claude savagely; "it is all-sufficient for me to go on. +You think that I may discover that Hilliston is the criminal, or learn +that my mother is accountable for the crime. I tell you no such thing +will happen. Hilliston was not near The Laurels on the fatal morning. My +mother--I have told you how she exonerated herself, and the exoneration +was substantiated by Denis Bantry. Both are innocent." + +"It may be so. But who is guilty?" + +"Jeringham. I believe that he discovered that my father had returned, +and perhaps knowing of this intrigue between him and Mona Bantry, +remained at The Laurels, unknown to my mother, in order to assist her as +a friend." + +"How did Jeringham obtain possession of the dagger?" + +"I cannot say. We must find out. But he did obtain possession of the +dagger, and during a quarrel with my father killed him with it. He fled +to avoid the consequences. Oh, yes! I swear that Jeringham is guilty. +But I will hunt him down, if I have to do it alone." + +"You will not do it alone," said Tait quietly. "I am with you still." + +"But you said----" + +"I know what I said! I think it is best to leave well alone. But since +you are set on learning the truth, I will help you to the best of my +ability. Only," added Tait explicitly, "should you discover the truth to +be unpalatable, do not blame me." + +"I won't blame you. I am certain that you will find that I am right, and +that Hilliston and my mother had nothing to do with the affair. Help me, +that is all I ask. I will bear the consequences." + +"Very good! Then we had better get to work," said Tait dryly. "Just go +and dress, my dear fellow, or you'll keep dinner waiting." + +"Why should I dress? I am not going out to-night." + +"Indeed you are! We are due at Mrs. Durham's 'At Home' at ten o'clock." + +"I shan't go. I am in no mood for frivolity. I would rather stay at home +and think over the case. It is only by hard work that we can hope to +learn the truth." + +"Very true. At the same time it is necessary for you to go out to-night, +if only to meet with John Parver." + +"The author of 'A Whim of Fate,'" asked Claude eagerly, "is he in town?" + +"Yes. And he will be at Mrs. Durham's to-night. We must see him, and +find out where he obtained the materials for his novel." + +"Do you think such information will lead to any result?" asked Claude +dubiously. + +"I don't think. I am sure of it," retorted Tait impatiently. "Now go and +dress." + +Larcher departed without a word. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + THE UPPER BOHEMIA. + + +THE name Bohemia is suggestive of unknown talent starving in garrets, of +obdurate landladies, of bacchanalian nights, and shabby dress. Murger +first invested the name with this flavor, and since his time the word +has become polarized, and indicates nothing but struggling humanity and +unappreciated genius. Yet your true Bohemian does not leave his country +when he becomes rich and famous. It is true that he descends from the +garret to the first floor; that he fares well and dresses decently; but +he still dwells in Bohemia. The reckless air of the hovels permeates the +palaces of this elastic kingdom of fancy. + +Mrs. Durham was a Bohemian, and every Thursday received her _confrères_ +in the drawing room of a very elegant mansion in Chelsea. She had +written a novel, "I Cling to Thee with Might and Main," and this having +met with a moderate success, she posed as a celebrity, and set up her +_salon_ on the lines of Lady Blessington. Everyone who was anyone was +received at her "At Homes," and by this process she gathered together a +queer set of people. Some were clever, others were not; some were +respectable, others decidedly disreputable; but one and all--to use an +expression usually connected with crime--had done something. Novelists, +essayists, painters, poets, and musicians were all to be found in her +rooms, and a more motley collection could be seen nowhere else in +London. Someone dubbed the Chelsea Mansions "The Zoo," and certainly +animals of all kinds were to be found there, from monkeys to peacocks. + +It was considered rather the thing to be invited to "The Zoo," so when +brothers and sisters of the pen met one another there they usually said: +"What! are you here?" as though the place were heaven, and the speaker +justifiably surprised that anyone should be saved except himself or +herself. Literary people love one another a degree less than Christians. + +Hither came Tait and Claude in search of John Parver. That young man had +made a great success with his novel, and was consequently much sought +after by lion hunters. However, Tait had learned that he was to be +present at Mrs. Durham's on this special evening, and hoped to engage +him in conversation, so as to learn where he had obtained the materials +for his story. + +When they arrived the rooms were quite full, and Mrs. Durham received +them very graciously. It was true that they were not famous, still as +Tait was a society man, and Claude very handsome, the lady of the house +good-humoredly pardoned all mental deficiencies. Tait knew her very +well, having met her at several houses, but she addressed herself rather +to Claude than to his friend, having a feminine appreciation of good +looks. + +"My rooms are always crowded," said she, with that colossal egotism +which distinguished her utterances. "You know they call me the new +George Eliot." + +"No doubt you deserve the name," replied Claude, with mimic gravity. + +"Oh, I suppose so," smirked the lady amiably. "You have read my novel, +of course. It is now in its fourth edition, and has been refused by +Smith and Mudie. I follow the French school of speaking my mind." + +"And a very nasty mind it must be," thought Larcher, who had been +informed about the book by Tait. He did not, however, give this thought +utterance, but endeavored to generalize the conversation. "You have many +celebrities here to-night, I presume?" + +"My Dear Sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Durham, in capitals, "every individual in +this company is famous! Yonder is Mr. Padsop, the great traveler, who +wrote 'Mosques and Mosquitoes.' He is talking to Miss Pexworth, the +writer of those scathing articles in _The Penny Trumpet_, entitled 'Man, +the Brute.' She is a modern woman." + +"Oh, indeed!" said Claude equably, and looked at this latest production +of the nineteenth century, "she is rather masculine in appearance." + +"It is her pride to be so, Mr. Larcher. She is more masculine than man. +That is her brother, who designs ladies' dresses and decorates dinner +tables." + +"Ah! He isn't masculine. I suppose nature wanted to preserve the balance +in the family. The law of compensation, eh?" + +"Oh, you are severe. Tommy Pexworth is a dear little creature, and so +fond of chiffons. He knows more about women's dress than his sister." + +"So I should think," replied Claude dryly. He took an instant and +violent dislike to Mr. Pexworth, who was one of those feminine little +creatures, only distinguished from the other sex by wearing trousers. "A +charming pair," he added, smiling. "I don't know which I admire the +most. The sister who is such a thorough gentlemen, or the brother who is +a perfect lady." + +"You are satirical," smiled Mrs. Durham, enjoying this hit at her +friends. "Now you must take me down to have some refreshment. Really, +you must." + +Thus inspired, Claude elbowed the hostess through the crush, and +escorted her to a bare counter in the dining room, whereon were +displayed thin bread and butter, very weak tea, and fossil buns. Mrs. +Durham evidently knew her own refreshments too well to partake of them, +for she had a mild brandy and soda, produced from its hiding place by a +confidential waiter. She asked Claude to join her, but he refused on the +plea that he never drank between meals. + +"But you are not a brain-worker," said Mrs. Durham, hurriedly finishing +her brandy and soda, lest her guests should see it and become +discontented with the weak tea; "if I did not keep myself up I should +die. Ah! Why, here is Mr. Hilliston." + +"Hilliston!" said Claude, astonished at seeing his guardian in this +house. + +"Yes. Do you know him? A dear creature--so clever. He was my solicitor +in a libel action against _The Penny Trumpet_, for saying that I was an +ungrammatical scribbler. Just fancy! And they call me the new George +Eliot. We lost our case, I'm sorry to say. Judges are such brutes! Miss +Pexworth says they are, ever since she failed to get damages for her +breach of promise case." + +"Here comes Mr. Hilliston," said Larcher, rather tired of this +long-tongued lady. "I know him very well, he is my guardian." + +"How very delightful!" said Mrs. Durham, with the accent on the "very." +"Oh, Mr. Hilliston," she continued, as the lawyer approached, "we were +just talking about you!" + +"I trust the absent were right for once," replied Hilliston, with an +artificial smile and a swift glance at Claude. "I have just come to say +good-by." + +"Oh, not yet, surely not yet! Really!" babbled Mrs. Durham with shallow +enthusiasm. Then finding Hilliston was resolved to go, and catching +sight of a newly arrived celebrity, she hastened, after the amiable +fashion of her kind, to speed the parting guest. "Well, if you must, you +must. Good-by, good-by! Excuse me, I see Mr. Rawler, a delightful +man--writes plays, you know. The new Shakspere; yes!" and thus talking +she melted away with a babble of words, leaving Hilliston and his ward +alone. + +They were mutually surprised to see one another, Claude because he knew +his guardian did not affect Bohemianism, and Hilliston because he +thought that the young man had left town. The meeting was hardly a +pleasant one, as Hilliston dreaded lest Mrs. Bezel should have said too +much, and so prejudiced Claude against him. + +"I understood from your refusal of my invitation that you had gone to +Thorston with Tait," said he, after a pause. + +"I am going to-morrow or the next day," replied Claude quickly, "but in +any event I intended to call on you before I left town." + +"Indeed!" said Hilliston nervously; "you have something to tell me?" + +"Yes. I have seen Mrs. Bezel." + +"Good. You have seen Mrs. Bezel." + +"And I have made a discovery." + +"Oh! Has the lady informed you who committed the crime?" + +"No. But she told me her name." + +"Margaret Bezel!" murmured Hilliston, wondering what was coming. + +"Not Margaret Bezel, but Julia Larcher, my mother." + +"She--she told you that?" gasped Hilliston, his self-control deserting +him for the moment. + +"Yes. I know why she feigned death; I know how you have protected her. +You have been a kind friend to me, Mr. Hilliston, and to my mother. I am +doubly in your debt." + +Hilliston took the hand held out to him by Claude, and pressed it +cordially. The speech relieved him from all apprehension. He now knew +that Mrs. Bezel had kept their secret, and immediately took advantage of +the restored confidence of Claude. His quick wit grasped the situation +at once. + +"My dear fellow," he said with much emotion, "I loved your poor father +too much not to do what I could for his widow and son. I hope you do not +blame me for suppressing the truth." + +"No. I suppose you acted for the best. Still, I would rather you had +informed me that my mother was still alive." + +"To what end? It would only have made you miserable. I did not want to +reveal anything; but your mother insisted that you should be made +acquainted with the past, and so--I gave you the papers." + +"I am glad you did so." + +"And now, what do you intend to do?" asked Hilliston slowly. "You know +as much as I do. Is there any clew to guide you in the discovery that +your mother still lives?" + +"No. She can tell me nothing. But I hope to find the clew here." + +"Ah! You intend to speak with John Parver?" + +"I do," said Claude, rather surprised at this penetration; "do you know +him?" + +"I exchanged a few words with him," replied Hilliston carelessly. "I +only came here to-night at the request of Mrs. Durham, who is a client +of mine. As I paid my respects to her, she was talking to John Parver, +and he was introduced to me as the latest lion. So you still intend to +pursue the matter?" added Hilliston, after a pause. + +"Assuredly! If only to clear my mother, and restore her to the world." + +"I am afraid it is too late, Claude. You know she is ill and cannot live +long." + +"Nevertheless, I wish her to take her own name again. She will not do so +until the assassin of her husband--of my father--is discovered, so you +see it is obligatory on me to find out the truth." + +"I trust you may be successful," said Hilliston, sighing; "but my advice +is still the same, and it would be best for you to let the matter rest. +After five-and-twenty years you can discover nothing. I cannot help you; +your mother cannot help you, so----" + +"But John Parver may," interrupted Larcher sharply. "I will see how he +learned the details of the case." + +Before Hilliston could make further objection, Tait joined them, and not +noticing the lawyer, hastily took Claude by the arm. + +"I have been looking for you everywhere," said he. "Come and be +introduced to Mr. Linton." + +"Who is Mr. Linton?" + +"John Parver. He writes under that name. Ah, Mr. Hilliston, I did not +see you. How do you do, sir?" + +"I am quite well, Mr. Tait, and am just taking my departure," replied +Hilliston easily. "I see you are both set on finding out the truth. But +you will learn nothing from John Parver." + +"Why not, Mr. Hilliston?" + +"Because he knows nothing. Good-night, Claude--good-night, Mr. Tait!" + +When Hilliston disappeared Tait looked at Claude with a singular +expression, and scratched his chin. + +"You see," said he quietly, "Mr. Hilliston has been making inquiries on +his own account." + +"You are incurably suspicious," said Claude impatiently. "Hilliston is +my friend." + +"Yes. He was your father's friend also, I believe." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Nothing! Nothing! Come and cross-examine Frank Linton, alias John +Parver." + +Clearly Tait was by no means so satisfied with Hilliston as Claude. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + A POPULAR AUTHOR. + + +BEARING in mind that the character of Hilliston had been rehabilitated +by Mrs. Bezel, it was natural that Claude should feel somewhat annoyed +at the persistent mistrust manifested toward that gentleman by Tait. +However, he had no time to explain or expostulate at the present moment; +and moreover, as he knew that the little man was assisting him in this +difficult case out of pure friendship, he did not deem it politic to +comment on what was assuredly an unfounded prejudice. Tait was singular +in his judgments, stubborn in his opinions; so Claude, unwilling to risk +the loss of his coadjutor, wisely held his peace. His astute companion +guessed these thoughts, for in place of further remarking on the +inexplicable presence of Hilliston, he turned the conversation toward +the man they were about to see. + +"Queer thing, isn't it?" he said, as they ascended the stairs. "Linton +is the son of the vicar of Thorston." + +"Ah! That no doubt accounts for his intimate knowledge of the locality. +Do you know him?" + +"Of course I do--as Frank Linton; but I had no idea that he was John +Parver." + +"Why did he assume a _nom de plume_?" + +Tait shrugged his shoulders. "Paternal prejudice, I believe," he said +carelessly. "Mr. Linton does not approve of sensational novels, and, +moreover, wishes his son to be a lawyer, not a literary man. Young Frank +is in a solicitor's office in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and he employed his +evenings in writing 'A Whim of Fate.' He published it under the name of +'John Parver,' so as to hoodwink his father, but now that he has scored +a success I have no doubt he will confess." + +"Do you think we will learn anything from him?" + +"We will learn all we wish to know as to where he obtained his material. +The young man's head is turned, and by playing on his vanity we may find +out the truth." + +"His vanity may lead him to conceal the fact that he took the plot from +real life." + +"I don't think so. I know the boy well, and he is a great babbler. No +one is more astonished than I at learning that he is the celebrated John +Parver. I didn't think he had the brains to produce so clever a book." + +"It is clever!" assented Claude absently. + +"Of course it is; much cleverer than its author," retorted Tait dryly; +"or rather, I should say, its supposed author, for I verily believed +Jenny Paynton helped him to write the book." + +"Who is Jenny Paynton?" + +"A very nice girl who lives at Thorston. She is twice as clever as this +lad, and they are both great on literary matters. But I'll tell you all +about this later on, for here is Linton." + +The celebrated author was a light-haired, light-complexioned young man +of six-and-twenty, with bowed shoulders, a self-satisfied smile, and a +pince nez, which he used at times to emphasize his remarks. He evidently +possessed conceit sufficient to stock a dozen ordinary men, and lisped +out the newest ideas of the day, as promulgated by his college, for he +was an Oxford man. Although he was still in his salad days, he had +settled, to his own satisfaction, all the questions of life, and +therefore adopted a calm superiority which was peculiarly exasperating. +Claude, liberal-minded but hot-blooded, had not been five minutes in his +company before he was seized with a wild desire to throw him out of the +window. Frank Linton inspired that uncharitable feeling in many people. + +For the moment, Mr. Linton was alone, as his latest worshiper, a +raw-boned female of the cab-horse species, had just departed with a fat +little painter in quest of refreshment. Therefore, when he turned to +greet Claude, he was quite prepared to assume that fatigued +self-conscious air, with which he thought fit to welcome new votaries. + +"Linton, this is Mr. Larcher," said Tait abruptly. "Claude, you see +before you the lion of the season." + +"It is very good of you to say so, Mr. Tait," simpered the lion, in no +wise disclaiming the compliment. "I am pleased to make your +acquaintance, Mr. Larcher." + +"And I yours, Mr. Linton, or shall I say Mr. Parver?" + +"Oh, either name will answer," said the author loftily, "though in town +I am known as Parver only." + +"And in Thorston as Linton," interpolated Tait smartly. "Then your +father does not yet know what a celebrated son he has?" + +"Not yet, Mr. Tait. I intend to tell him next week. I go down to +Thorston for that purpose." + +"Ah! My friend and I will no doubt meet you there. We also seek rural +felicity for a month. But now that you have taken London by storm, I +suppose you intend to forsake the law for the profits." + +"Of course I do," replied Linton quickly. "I never cared for the law, +and only went into it to please my father." + +"And now you go into literature to please Miss Paynton." + +Linton blushed at this home thrust, and being readier with the pen than +the tongue, did not know what answer to make. Pitying his confusion, and +anxious to arrive at the main object of the interview, Claude +interpolated a remark bearing thereon. + +"Did you find it difficult to work out the plot of your novel, Mr. +Linton?" he said, with assumed carelessness. + +"Oh, not at all! The construction of a plot is second nature with me." + +"I suppose you and Miss Paynton talked it over together," said Tait +artfully. + +"Well, yes," answered Linton, again falling into confusion; "I found her +a good listener." + +"I presume it was all new to her?" + +"I think so. Of course she gave me some hints." + +Evidently Linton was determined to admit nothing, so seeing that Tait's +attack was thus repulsed, Claude brought up his reserve forces. + +"I saw in a paper the other day that your book was an impossible +one--that nothing analogous to its story ever happened in real life." + +"Several critics have said that," replied Linton, growing angry, and +thereby losing his caution, "but they are wrong, as I could prove did I +choose to do so." + +"What!" said Claude, in feigned astonishment. "Did you take the incident +from real life?" + +"The tale is founded on an incident from real life," answered Linton, +flushing. "That is, Miss Paynton told me of a certain crime which was +actually committed, and on her hint I worked out the story." + +"Oh, Miss Paynton told you," said Tait smoothly; "and where did she see +the account of this crime?" + +"Ah, that I cannot tell you," replied Linton frankly. "She related the +history of this crime, and refused to let me know whence she obtained +it. I thought the idea a good one, and so wrote the novel." + +"Why don't you tell this to the world, and so confound the critics?" + +"I do! I have told several people. For instance, I told a gentleman +about it this very evening, just because he made the same remark as Mr. +Larcher did." + +Tait drew a long breath, and stole a look at Claude. That young man had +changed color and gave utterance to the first idea that entered his +mind. + +"Was it Mr. Hilliston who made the remark?" + +"Hilliston! Hilliston!" said Linton thoughtfully. "Yes, I believe that +was the man. A tall old gentleman, very fresh-colored. He was greatly +interested in my literary work." + +"Who could help being interested in so clever a book?" said Claude, in a +meaning tone. "But Mr. Hilliston is a lawyer, and I suppose you do not +like members of that profession." + +"Now, why should you say that?" demanded Linton, rather taken aback by +this perspicacity. + +"Well, for one thing you admit a dislike for the law, and for another +you make Michael Dene, the solicitor, commit the crime in 'A Whim of +Fate.'" + +"Oh, I only did that as he was the least likely person to be suspected," +said the author easily. "Jenny--that is, Miss Paynton--wanted me to make +Markham commit the crime." + +"Markham is Jeringham," murmured Tait, under his breath. "Who committed +the crime in the actual case?" he added aloud. + +"No one knows," answered Linton, shrugging his shoulders. "The case as +related to me was a mystery. I solved it after my own fashion." + +"In the third volume you trace the assassin by means of a breastpin +belonging to Michael Dene," said Claude, again in favor. "Is that fact +or fiction?" + +"Fiction! Miss Paynton invented the idea. She said that as the dagger +inculpated the woman the breastpin found on the banks of the river would +lead to the detection of the man. And, as I worked it out, the idea was +a good one." + +"Ah!" murmured Tait to himself, "I wonder if Mr. Hilliston had anything +to do with a breastpin." + +By this time Linton was growing rather restive under examination, as he +was by no means pleased at having to acknowledge his indebtedness to a +woman's wit. Seeing this Tait abruptly closed the conversation, so as to +avoid waking the suspicions of Linton. + +"A very interesting conversation," he said heartily. "I like to get +behind the scenes and see the working of a novelist's brain. We will say +good-by now. Linton, and I hope you will call at the Manor House next +week, when we will all three be at Thorston." + +"Delighted, I'm sure," replied the author, and thereupon melted into the +crowd, leaving Claude and Tait looking at one another. + +"Well," said the former, after a pause, "we have not learned much." + +"On the contrary, I think we have learned a great deal," said Tait, +raising his eyebrows. "We know that Linton got the whole story from +Jenny Paynton, and that Mr. Hilliston is in possession of the +knowledge." + +"What use can it be to him?" + +"He will try and frustrate us with Miss Paynton, as he did Mrs. Bezel +with you." + +"Do you still doubt him?" asked Claude angrily. + +"Yes," replied Tait coolly, "I still doubt him." + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + A FALSE MOVE. + + +THE next day the two young men repaired to the club for the purpose of +having luncheon and discussing their plans. Contrary to the wish of +Claude, his friend did not deem it advisable to at once depart for +Thorston, as he wished to remain in town for a few days on business +connected with Hilliston. + +"You see, you are quite in the dark regarding that gentleman," said +Tait, as they lighted their cigarettes after dinner, "and before we +commence operations at Thorston it will be advisable to know that he is +not counteracting our efforts." + +"In that case you had better go down to Thorston and I will remain in +town so as to keep an eye on Hilliston." + +"I don't think that will be necessary," replied Tait reflectively, "it +is more than probable that Hilliston will visit Thorston." + +"For what purpose?" + +"Can't you guess? Last night he learned from Linton that Jenny Paynton +supplied the material for that novel. Consequently he will see her, and, +if possible, find out where she heard the story." + +"Yes; I suppose he will," said Claude thoughtfully. "By the way, who is +Miss Paynton, who now seems to be mixed up in the matter?" + +"She is the daughter of an old recluse called Ferdinand Paynton." + +"A recluse! Humph! That's strange." + +"Why so? You would not say so if you saw the old man. He is an invalid +and lives in his library. A charming companion, though I must say he is +rather sad." + +"Where does he live?" + +"At Thorston, half a mile from the Manor House. Not very rich, I should +think. His cottage is small, like his income." + +"And his daughter lives with him?" + +"Yes. A pretty girl she is, who inherits his literary tastes. It is my +impression that she wrote the most part of that novel. From all I know +of Frank Linton he is given more to poetry than to prose. Jenny has the +brain, not Frank." + +"Ho, ho!" said Claude, smiling. "Is it the skeptical misogynistic Tait I +hear speaking?" + +"Himself. I admit that I do not care for women, as a rule, but there are +exceptions to every rule, and in this case Jenny Paynton is the +exception." + +"Is she in love with our author?" + +"No. But I rather think he is in love with her, as you will be when you +see her." + +"I! What are you talking about, Tait? I have more to do than to fall in +love with country wenches, however pretty." + +"Jenny is not a country wench," said Tait, with some displeasure; "she +is a highly educated young woman." + +"Worse and worse! I hate highly educated bluestockings." + +"You won't hate Jenny, at all events. Especially as it is probable you +will see a great deal of her." + +"No; I shall keep away from her," said Claude doggedly. + +"That's impossible. We must maneuver to get at the truth. By asking her +straight out she certainly will not gratify our curiosity. We must plot +and plan, and take her unawares. She is not a fool, like Linton, +remember." + +"What! Do you call a lion of the season by so opprobrious a name?" + +"I do," replied Tait serenely; "because I don't believe he wrote the +book." + +"Well! well! Never mind Linton. We have pumped him dry. The next thing +is to tackle the fair Jenny. How do you intend to set about it?" + +"I can't say, at present. We must be guided by circumstances. I will +introduce you to the rector and to Mr. Paynton. There will be musical +parties and lawn tennis _fêtes_, so in some way or another we may find +out the truth?" + +"Does anyone else live with Paynton; his wife, for instance." + +"No. His wife died before he came to Thorston, where he has been for a +long time. An old servant called Kerry lives with him." + +"Man or woman?" + +"Man. A queer old fellow, rather morose." + +"H'm! A flattering description. By the way, he bears the same name as +the ancient retainer in Boucicault's play." + +"Why shouldn't he?" + +"It may be an assumed name." + +Tait threw a surprised glance at his friend, and laughed quickly. + +"Who is suspicious now?" said he, smiling. "You blame me for suspecting +Hilliston, yet here you are doubtful of people whom you have never +seen." + +Before Larcher could answer this home thrust, a waiter entered with a +letter for him which had just arrived. + +"From Hilliston," said Claude, recognizing the writing. "I wonder what +he has to say?" + +"It's only another move in the game," murmured Tait; then as Claude, +after glancing at the letter, uttered an ejaculation of surprise, he +added: "What is the matter?" + +"Hilliston is going down to Eastbourne." + +"Impossible!" cried Tait, holding out his hand for the letter. "He is +surely not so clumsy as to show his hand so plainly." + +"He does, though. Read the letter yourself." + + "MY DEAR CLAUDE [wrote Hilliston]: Mrs. Hilliston has decided to + leave town for Eastbourne this week, so it is probable we will + see you and Mr. Tait down there. If you can spare the time come + to dinner at half-past seven to-night, and tell me how you are + getting on with your case. + "Yours very sincerely, + "FRANCIS HILLISTON." + +"Well," said Claude, as Tait silently returned the letter, "what do you +think?" + +"I think that Hilliston intends to look up Jenny Paynton." + +"I can see that," replied Claude impatiently, "but touching this +invitation to dinner." + +"Accept." + +"But I promised to see my mother to-night, and tell her about John +Parver. She will expect me, as I have written." + +"I will take your apologies to her," said Tait quietly. + +"You?" + +"Yes. Listen to me, Claude," continued the little man in a tone of +suppressed excitement. "You will keep your belief in Hilliston. I tell +you he is your enemy and wishes you to leave this case alone. To-night +he will make one last attempt to dissuade you. If he succeeds he will +not go to Eastbourne. If he fails you can depend on it he will try and +see Jenny before we do. Now, to thwart his aims we will go down to +Thorston by an early train to-morrow morning." + +"But I must see my mother before I leave town." + +"No! I will tell her all she wishes to know." + +"She might not like it." + +"This is not a case for likes or dislikes," said Tait grimly; "but a +question of getting the better of Hilliston. You must dine with him +to-night, and find out, if possible, if it was his wife or himself who +suggested this visit to Eastbourne. You need not tell him we go down +to-morrow. Say you don't know--that you await my decision. Try and learn +all you can of his attitude and plans. Then we will discuss the matter +when you return. On my part," continued Tait significantly, "I may have +some something to say about your mother." + +"You want to see her?" + +"Yes. I am extremely anxious to see her." + +"Perhaps you suspect her!" cried Claude, in a fiery tone. + +"Bless the man, what a temper he has!" said Tait jocosely. "I don't +suspect anyone except Hilliston. But I am quicker than you, and I wish +to learn precisely what your mother has to say. A chance remark on her +part may set us on the right path." + +"Well, I will be guided by you," said Claude, in a few minutes. "You can +go to Hampstead, and I will dine with Hilliston. But I don't like the +task. To sit at a man's table and scheme against him is not my idea of +honor." + +"Nor is it mine. You are doing no such thing. All I wish you to do is to +observe Hilliston's attitude and hold your tongue. There is nothing +wrong in that. I want to find out his motive for this behavior." + +"Then why not see him yourself!" + +"I will see him at Thorston. Meantime it is necessary that I become +acquainted with your mother. Now come and wire an acceptance to +Hilliston, and write a letter to your mother for me to deliver." + +Claude obeyed. He was quite content to accept the guidance of Tait in +this matter, and began to think that his friend was right in suspecting +Hilliston. Else why did the lawyer's plans so coincide with their own. + +"Mind you don't tell Hilliston too much," said Tait, when the wire was +despatched. + +"I shall tell him that we go to Thorston shortly, and that we saw John +Parver." + +"No; don't tell him about John Parver. He will be certain to mention the +subject first." + +"Well, and if he does----" + +"Oh, you must use your brains," replied Tait ironically. "Baffle his +curiosity, and above all, make no mention of the breastpin episode +related in the third volume." + +"Why not?" + +"Because Jenny Paynton told Linton of that. She could not have obtained +it from the newspapers, as it is not related therein." + +"It is pure invention." + +"No! I believe it to be a fact." + +"But who could have told it to Miss Paynton?" + +"Ah!" said Tait, in a low tone. "Find me the person who told her that +and I'll find the man who murdered your father." + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + THE HUSBAND AT KENSINGTON GORE. + + +TO a woman who rules by right of beauty it is a terrible thing to see +her empire slipping from her grasp by reason of gray hairs and wrinkles. +What desperate efforts does she make to protract her sway, how she dyes +and paints and powders and tight laces--all to no end, for Time is +stronger than Art, and finally he writes his sign-manual too deep to be +effaced by cosmetics. Mrs. Hilliston was not yet beaten in the fight +with the old enemy, but she foresaw the future when she would be shamed +and neglected close at hand. + +Perhaps it was this premonition of defeat that made her so unamiable, +sharp, and bitter on the night when Claude came to dine. She liked +Claude and had stood in the place of a mother to him; but he was a man, +and handsome, so when she saw his surprised look at her changed +appearance all the evil that was in her came to the surface. + +Yet she need not have felt so bitter a pang, had she taken the trouble +to glance at her image in the near mirror. It reflected a tall, stylish +figure, which, in the dim light of the drawing room, looked majestic and +beautiful. It was all very well to think that she appeared barely thirty +in the twilight, but she knew well that the daylight showed up her +forty-seven years in the most merciless manner. Velvet robes, diamond +necklaces, and such like aids to beauty would not make up for lack of +youth, and Claude's ill-advised start brought this home to her. + +Ten years before she had married Hilliston in utter ignorance of the +house at Hampstead. Though she did not know it she was not unlike her +rival. There was the same majesty, the same imperious beauty, the same +passionate nature, but Mrs. Bezel was worn and wasted by illness, +whereas Mrs. Hilliston, aided by art, looked a rarely beautiful woman. + +People said she had not done well to marry Hilliston. She was then a +rich widow from America, and wanted to take a position in society. With +her looks and her money, she might have married a title, but handsome +Hilliston crossed her path, and, though he was then fifty years of age, +she fell in love with him on the spot. Wearied of Mrs. Bezel, anxious to +mend his failing fortunes, Hilliston accepted the homage thus offered. +He did not love her, but kept that knowledge to himself, so Mrs. +Derrick, the wealthy widow, secured the man she idolized. She gave all, +wealth, beauty, love, and received nothing in return. + +During all their married life her love had undergone no abatement. She +loved her husband passionately, and her one object in life was to please +him. At the time of the marriage she had rather resented the presence of +Claude in Hilliston's house, but soon accepted him as an established +fact, the more so as he took up his profession shortly afterward, and +left her to reign alone over the heart of her husband. When the young +man called she was always kind to him, she constantly looked after his +welfare, and playfully styled herself his mother. Claude was greatly +attached to her, and spoke of her in the highest terms, but for the life +of him he could not suppress that start, though he knew it wounded her +to the heart. During his five years of absence she had aged greatly, and +art seemed rather to accentuate than conceal the truth. + +"You find me altered, I am afraid," said she bitterly; "age is robbing +me of my looks." + +"By no means," answered Claude, with a desire to please her; "at the +worst, you are only growing old gracefully." + +"Small comfort in that," sighed Mrs. Hilliston. "I do not want to grow +old at all. However, it is no use fighting the inevitable, but I hope +I'll die before I become a hag." + +"You will never become one." + +"I'm not so sure of that. I'm one of those large women who turn to bones +and wrinkles in old age." + +"In my eyes you will always be beautiful, Louise," said Hilliston, who +entered at this moment. "You are an angel ever bright and fair." + +"You have not lost the art of saying pretty things, Francis," replied +his wife, greatly gratified; "but there is the gong. Claude, take your +mother in to dinner." + +The young man winced as she said this, thinking of his real mother who +lay sick and feeble at Hampstead. Hilliston saw his change of +countenance, and bit his lip to prevent himself remarking thereon. He +guessed what Claude was thinking about, and thus his thoughts were +turned in the same direction. At the present moment the memories thus +evoked were most unpleasant. + +During dinner Mrs. Hilliston recovered her spirits and talked freely +enough. No one was present save Claude and her husband, so they were a +very pleasant party of three. While in the full flow of conversation, +Claude could not help thinking that Tait was unjust to suspect the +master of the house of underhand dealings; for Hilliston was full of +smiles and geniality, and did his best to entertain his guest. Could +Claude have looked below the surface he would have been considerably +astonished at the inward aspect of the man. Yet a hint was given him of +such want of concord, for Hilliston showed the cloven hoof before the +meal ended. + +"So you are going to Eastbourne," said Claude, addressing himself to +Mrs. Hilliston. "I hope you will come over to Thorston during your +stay." + +"It is not unlikely," replied the lady. "Francis intends to make +excursions all round the country." + +"Only for your amusement, my dear," said Hilliston hastily. "You know +how dreary it is to pace daily up and down that Parade." + +"I think Eastbourne is dreary, in any case. It is solely on your account +that I am going." + +Hilliston did not answer, but stole a glance at Claude to see what he +thought. The face of the young man was inscrutable, though Claude was +mentally considering that Tait was right, and Hilliston's journey to +Eastbourne was undertaken to interview Jenny Paynton. + +"I don't like your English watering-places," continued Mrs. Hilliston +idly. "They are so exasperatingly dull. In America we can have a good +time at Newport, but all your south coast is devoid of amusement. +Trouville or Dieppe are more enjoyable than Eastbourne or Folkestone." + +"The fault of the national character, my dear Louise. We English take +our pleasures sadly, you know." + +For the sole purpose of seeing what effect it would produce on the +lawyer Claude purposely introduced the name of the town where his father +had met his death. + +"I wonder you don't try an inland watering-place, Mrs. Hilliston," he +said calmly; "Bath or Tunbridge Wells or--Horriston." + +Hilliston looked up quickly, and then busied himself with his food. +Discomposed as he was, his iron will enabled him to retain a quiet +demeanor; but the effect of the name on the wife was more pronounced +than it was on the husband. Her color went, and she laid down her knife +and fork. + +"Ah, I don't know Horriston," she said faintly. "Some inland----Ah, how +hot this room is. Open the window," she added to the footman, "we want +fresh air." + +Rather astonished at the effect thus produced, Claude would have spoken +but that Hilliston forestalled him. + +"The room is hot," he said lightly, "but the fresh air will soon revive +you, Louise. I am glad we are going to Eastbourne, for you sadly need a +change." + +"The season has been rather trying," replied his wife, resuming her +dinner. "What were you saying about Horriston, Claude?" + +"Nothing. I only know it is a provincial town set in beautiful scenery. +I thought you might wish to try a change from the fashionable seaside +place." + +"I might go there if it is pretty," answered Mrs. Hilliston, who was now +perfectly composed. "Where is Horriston?" + +"In Kent," interposed Hilliston quickly, "not very far from Canterbury. +I have been there myself, but as it is a rather dull neighborhood, I +would not advise you to try it." + +Despite her denial Claude felt certain that Mrs. Hilliston was +acquainted with Horriston, for on the plea of indisposition she left the +table before the dinner was ended. As she passed through the door she +playfully tipped Claude on the shoulder with her fan. + +"Don't forget to come and see us at Eastbourne," she said vivaciously, +"and bring Mr. Tait with you. He is a great favorite of mine." + +This Claude promised to do, and, when she left the room, returned to his +seat with a rather puzzled expression on his face. Hilliston saw the +look, and endeavored to banish it by a hasty explanation. + +"You rather startled my wife by mentioning Horriston," he said, in an +annoyed tone. "I wish you had not done so. As it is connected with the +case she naturally feels an antipathy toward it." + +"What! Does Mrs. Hilliston know about my father's death?" asked Claude, +in some surprise. + +"Yes. When we married, she wanted to know why you lived in the house +with me, so I was forced to explain all the circumstances." + +"Do you think that was necessary?" + +"I do. You know how suspicious women are," replied Hilliston lightly; +"they will know the truth. But you can trust to her discretion, Claude. +No one will hear of it from her." + +At this moment a footman entered the room with a message from Mrs. +Hilliston. + +"My mistress wants to know if you have the third volume of 'A Whim of +Fate,' sir?" said the servant. + +"No," replied Hilliston sharply. "Tell your mistress that I took it to +my office by mistake. She will have it to-morrow." + +Claude thought this strange, and when the footman retired Hilliston made +another explanation equally as unsatisfactory as the first. + +"I am so interested in that book that I could not leave it at home," he +said quickly; "and now that I have met the author I am doubly interested +in it." + +Another proof of Tait's acumen. Hilliston was the first to introduce the +subject of John Parver. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + A DUEL OF WORDS. + + +A LONGISH pause ensued between the two men. Hilliston seemed to be in no +hurry to continue the conversation, and Claude, with his eyes fixed +absently on his glass, pondered over the facts that Mrs. Hilliston had +an aversion to Horriston, and that the lawyer had taken the third volume +of the novel out of the house. The two facts seemed to have some +connection with each other, but what the connection might be Claude +could not rightly conclude. + +From his frequent talks with Tait he knew that the third volume +contained the episode of the scarfpin, which was instrumental in +bringing the fictitious murderer to justice. The assassin in the novel +was meant for Hilliston, and remembering this Claude wondered whether +there might not be some reason for his removal of the book. Mrs. +Hilliston had quailed at the mention of Horriston, and the explanation +given by her husband did not satisfy Larcher. What reason could she have +for taking more than a passing interest in the tragic story? Why, after +ten years, should she pale at the mention of the neighborhood? Claude +asked himself these two questions, but could find no satisfactory answer +to either of them. + +He was toying with his wineglass while thinking, when a sudden thought +made him grip the slender stem with spasmodic force. Was it possible +that Mrs. Hilliston could have been in the neighborhood five-and-twenty +years before; that she could have heard some talk of that scarfpin which +was not mentioned at the trial, but which Tait insisted was an actual +fact, and no figment of the novelist's brain; and finally, could it be +that Hilliston had purposely removed the third volume of "A Whim of +Fate" so that his wife should not have her memory refreshed by a +relation of the incident. It was very strange. + +Thus thinking, Claude glanced stealthily at his guardian, who was +musingly smoking his cigar, and drinking his wine. He looked calm, and +content, and prosperous. Nevertheless, Claude was by no means so sure of +his innocence as he had been. Hilliston's confusion, his hesitation, his +evasion, instilled doubts into the young man's mind. He determined to +gain a knowledge of the truth by questions, and mentally arranged these +as follows: First he would try and learn somewhat of the past of Mrs. +Hilliston, for, beyond the fact that she was an American, he knew +nothing of it. Second, he would lead Hilliston to talk of the scarfpin, +and see if the reference annoyed him; and, third, he would endeavor to +discover if the lawyer was averse to his wife reading the novel. With +his plans thus cut and dried, he spoke abruptly to his guardian: + +"I am sorry Mrs. Hilliston's health is so bad." + +"It is not bad, my dear fellow," replied the lawyer, lifting his head. +"She is a very strong woman; but of course, the fatigue of a London +season tells on the healthiest constitution. That is why I wish her to +go to Eastbourne." + +"Why not take her to Horriston?" + +"Why should I? She connects the place with the story of your father, +about whom I was forced to speak ten years ago; and, speaking +personally, I have no desire to return there, and recall the horrors of +the past." + +"You were greatly affected by my father's death?" + +"Naturally; he was my dearest friend. I would have given anything to +discover the assassin." + +"Did Mrs. Hilliston give you her opinion as to who was guilty?" + +"No. I told her as little as I could of so painful a subject. She is not +in possession of all the facts." + +"At that rate why let her read 'A Whim of Fate'?" + +"I don't wish her to read it," answered Hilliston quietly; "but I left +the novel lying about, and she read the first two volumes. If I can help +it, she shall not finish the story." + +"Why object to her reading the third volume?" + +"Because it would recall the past too vividly to her mind." + +"I hardly follow you there," said Claude, with a keen look. "The fact to +which you refer cannot exist for your wife. To her the novel can only be +a second telling of the story related by you, when she wished to know +who I was." + +"That is very true. Nevertheless, it made so painful an impression on +her excitable nature that I am unwilling that her memory should be +refreshed. Take another glass of wine, my boy." + +Hilliston evidently wished to turn the conversation, but Claude was too +determined on learning the truth to deviate from his course. Slowly +filling his glass with claret he pushed the jug toward Hilliston, and +pursued his questioning: + +"The American nature is rather excitable, isn't it? By the way, is Mrs. +Hilliston a pure-blooded Yankee?" + +"Yes," said Hilliston, with suspicious promptitude; "she was a Chicago +belle, and married a millionaire in the pork line called Derrick. He +died soon after the marriage, so she came to England and married me." + +"It was her first visit to England, no doubt." + +"Her first visit," replied Hilliston gravely. "All her former life was +passed in New York, Boston, and Chicago. But what odd questions you +ask," added the lawyer, in a vexed tone. "Surely you do not think that +my wife was at Horriston twenty-five years ago, or that she knows aught +of this crime save what I have told her?" + +"Of course, I think nothing of the sort," said Larcher hastily, and what +is more he believed what he said. It was impossible that Mrs. Hilliston, +American born and bred, who had only been in England twelve years, +should know anything of an obscure crime committed in a dull provincial +town thirteen years before the date of her arrival. Hitherto his +questionings had eventuated in little, so he turned the conversation +into another groove, and tried to learn if Hilliston knew anything of +Jenny Paynton. + +"What do you think of John Parver?" + +"He seemed an intelligent young fellow. Is that his real name?" + +"No. His name is Frank Linton, the son of the vicar of Thorston." + +"What! He belongs to the place whither you go with Tait," exclaimed +Hilliston, with a startled air. "That is strange. You may learn there +whence he obtained the materials for his novel." + +"I know that. He obtained them from Miss Paynton." + +"Who is she?" + +"A literary young lady who lives at Thorston with her folks. But I fancy +Linton mentioned that he had told you about her." + +"Well he did and he didn't," said Hilliston, in some confusion; "that +is, he admitted that the story was founded on fact, but he did not tell +me whence he obtained such facts. I suppose it is your intention to +question this young lady." + +"Yes. I want to know how she heard of the matter." + +"Pooh! Read it in a provincial newspaper, no doubt." + +"I think not," replied Claude, with some point. "It is next to +impossible that she should come across a paper containing an account of +the trial. People don't keep such grewsome matters by them, unless they +have an interest in doing so." + +"Well, this young lady cannot be one of those persons. How old is she?" + +"Four-and-twenty!" + +"Ah!" said Hilliston with a sigh of relief, "she was not born when your +father was murdered. You must see she can know nothing positive of the +matter." + +"Then how did she supply Linton with the materials for this book?" + +"I can only answer that question by reverting to my theory of the +newspaper." + +"Well, even granting that it is so," said Larcher quickly, "she knows +details of the case which are not set forth in the newspaper." + +"How do you know this?" asked Hilliston, biting his lip to control his +feelings. + +"Because in the third volume----" + +"Nonsense! nonsense!" interrupted Hilliston violently, "you seem to +forget that the hard facts of the case have been twisted and turned by +the novelist's brain. We do not know who slew your father, but the +novelist had to end his story,--he had to solve the mystery,--and he has +done so after his own fashion." + +Rising from his seat, he paced hurriedly to and fro, talking the while +with an agitation strange in so hard and self-controlled a man. + +"For instance, the character of Michael Dene is obviously taken from me. +It is not a bit like me, of course, either in speech, or looks, or +dress. All the novelist knew was that I had given evidence at the trial, +and that the dead man had been my dearest friend. The circumstances +suggested a striking dramatic situation--that the dear friend had +committed the crime for the base love of the wife. Michael Dene is +guilty in the novel--but the man in real life, myself----You know all I +know of the case. I would give ten years of my life, short as the span +now is, to find the man who killed George Larcher." + +This was strong speaking, and carried conviction to the heart of Claude, +the more so when Hilliston further explained himself. + +"On the night of the murder I was at the ball three miles off. I knew +nothing of the matter till I was called upon to identify the corpse of +your father. It was hardly recognizable, and the face was much +disfigured, but I recognized him by the color of his hair and the seal +on his finger." + +"How was it that my father was dressed as Darnley?" + +"John Parver explains that," said Hilliston sharply. "Jeringham--I +forget his name in the novel--was dressed as Darnley, and I believe, as +is set forth in the book, that George Larcher assumed the dress so that +under his mask your mother might mistake him for Jeringham. Evidently +she did so, as he learned that she loved Jeringham----" + +"One moment," interposed Claude quickly, "my mother denies that +Jeringham was her lover." + +"Your mother?" + +"Mrs. Bezel." + +"True; I forgot for the moment that you knew she was alive. No doubt she +is right; and Jeringham was only her friend. But in the novel he is her +lover; Michael Dene, drawn from myself, is her lover. You see fact and +fiction are so mixed up that there is no getting at the truth." + +"I shall get at the truth," said Claude quietly. + +"Never. After such a lapse of time you can discover nothing. Better let +the dead past bury its dead. I advised you before. I advise you now. You +will only torture your life, cumber it with a useless task. George +Larcher is dead and buried, and dust by this time. No one knows who +killed him, no one ever shall know." + +"I am determined to learn the truth!" + +"I hope you may, but be advised. Leave this matter alone. You do not +know what misery you may be laying up for yourself. Why, you have not +even a clew to start from! Unless," added Hilliston, with a sneer, "you +follow the example of the novelist and elucidate the mystery by means of +the scarfpin." + +Again Tait was right. Hilliston had himself introduced the subject of +the scarfpin. Claude immediately took advantage of the opening. + +"I suppose that episode is fiction?" + +"Of course it is. No scarfpin was found in the garden. Nothing was found +but the dagger. You know that Michael Dene is supposed to drop that +scarfpin on the spot. Well, I am the living representative of Michael +Dene, and I assure you I never owned a garnet cross with a central +diamond." + +"Is that the description of the scarfpin?" + +"Yes. Do you not remember? A small Maltese cross of garnets with a +diamond in the center. The description sounds fictitious. Who ever saw +such an ornament in real life. But in detective novels the solution of +the mystery turns on such gew-gaws. A scarfpin, a stud, a link, a +brooch--all these go to hang a man--in novels." + +This assertion that the episode of the scarfpin was fiction was in +direct contradiction to that of Tait, who declared it to be true. Claude +was torn by conflicting doubts, but ultimately put the matter out of his +thoughts. Miss Paynton alone could give a correct opinion as to whether +it had emanated from her fertile brain, or was really a link in the +actual case. Judging from the speech of Hilliston, and the silence of +the newspaper reports, Claude believed that Tait was wrong. + +The lawyer and his guest did not go to the drawing room, as Mrs. +Hilliston sent word that she was going to bed with a bad headache. Under +the circumstances Claude took his leave, having, as he thought, +extracted all necessary information from Hilliston. Moreover, he was +anxious to get back to Tait's chambers and hear what the little man had +to tell him about Mrs. Bezel. Hilliston said good-by to him at the door. + +"I shall see you at Eastbourne, I suppose," he said genially. + +"Yes. I will drive over and tell you what Miss Paynton says." + +The door closed, and Hilliston, with a frown on his face, stood looking +at the floor. He was by no means satisfied with the result of the +interview. + +"I wish I could stop him," he muttered, clenching his fist; "stop him at +any price. If he goes on he will learn the truth, and if he learns the +truth--ah----" + +He drew a long breath, and went upstairs to his wife. As he ascended the +stairs it seemed to him as though he heard the halting step of Nemesis +following stealthily behind. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + TAIT BRINGS NEWS. + + +AS quick as a fast hansom could take him, Claude drove to Earls Street, +and found Tait impatiently waiting his arrival. The little man had a +look of triumph in his eyes, which showed that his interview with Mrs. +Bezel had been to some purpose. Dormer had placed wine and biscuits on +the table, and, made hungry by his long journey to Hampstead, Tait was +partaking of these modest refreshments when Claude entered the room. + +"I thought you were never coming," said he, glancing at his watch; "past +ten o'clock. You must have had an interesting conversation with +Hilliston to stay so long." + +"I have had a very interesting conversation. And you?" + +"Oh, I got back thirty minutes ago, after being more than an hour with +your mother." + +"Was she disappointed at my non-appearance?" + +"Very much so, but I explained that you had to dine with Hilliston. She +did not seem to like that either." + +"Absurd! She thinks no end of Hilliston, and advised me to see as much +of him as possible." + +"Nevertheless, the idea that you were dining with him did not please +her; I could only quiet her by telling all I know about Mrs. Hilliston." + +When Tait made this remark Claude was taking off his cloak, but he +paused in doing so to ask a question. + +"What possible interest can my mother have in Mrs. Hilliston?" + +"I don't know. But she asked me who she was, and where she came from. +Insisted on a description of her looks, and altogether pumped me dry on +the subject. I suppose she wished to know something of Hilliston's +domestic felicity, and, as he has not enlightened her on the subject, +applied to me." + +This explanation, which was accepted implicitly by Claude, was by no +means the truth. With his usual sharpness Tait had noted Mrs. Bezel was +profoundly jealous of the lawyer's wife, and from this, and sundry other +hints, had drawn conclusions by no means flattering to the lady herself. +Still, as she was Claude's mother, he had too much good breeding, and +too much liking for his friend, to state his belief--which was that the +bond between Mr. Hilliston and Mrs. Bezel was not of so harmless a +nature as they would have the world believe. + +With this idea in his head, Tait began to look at the case from the +point of view adopted by John Parver. Might it not be true that +Hilliston was the secret lover of the wife and the murderer of the +husband? Certainly the efforts he was making to stay Claude in solving +the mystery gave color to the idea. If he were innocent of crime and +illicit passion he would surely be anxious to hasten, instead of +retarding, the discovery. Tait's private opinion was that Hilliston had +the crime of murder on his soul, but for obvious reasons, not +unconnected with Mrs. Bezel, he did not care to speak openly to Larcher. +On the contrary, while admitting a disbelief in the lawyer, he feigned a +doubt of his complicity in the matter which he was far from feeling. + +Under these circumstances he had advised Claude to leave the matter +alone, for he dreaded the effect on his friend's mind when he learned +the truth. + +Whether Hilliston proved innocent or not, the unraveling of the mystery +would necessarily result in the disclosure of the relations existing +between him and Mrs. Bezel. Tait shrank from pursuing investigations +likely to lead to such a result, but the determination of Claude to +avenge his father's murder left him no option. Against his better +judgment he was urged along the path of discovery; but trusted when the +time came to soften the blow of the inevitable result. + +In silence he heard the story related by Claude of the evening at +Hilliston's, and did not comment on the information thus given so +speedily as Larcher expected. He thought it wiser to delay any remarks +till he had told the young man of his interview with Mrs. Bezel. + +"I need not go into details, Claude," he said, anxious not to say too +much, "but will tell you as shortly as I can. Mrs. Bezel--it is more +convenient to speak of her so than to call her your mother--is not +pleased that you should try and solve this mystery." + +"I know that. She thinks it is hopeless, and is unwilling that I should +waste my time to no purpose. But she should have thought of that before +inducing Hilliston to show me the paper. Now it is too late, and for my +own satisfaction, if not for hers, I must go on with the matter. Did you +relate our conversation with Linton?" + +"Yes. And she takes the same view of it as Hilliston. That Miss Paynton +got the case from a bundle of old newspapers." + +"What do you think yourself?" + +"I still hold to my opinion," said Tait quietly. "The affair was related +to Jenny by someone who lived in Horriston at the time the murder took +place. Else she would never have given Linton that fact about the +scarfpin, which, as we know, is not mentioned in the report of the +trial." + +"Hilliston says that the episode is fiction." + +"Mrs. Bezel says it is fact." + +"What! Was a scarfpin of garnets really found in the grounds of The +Laurels?" + +"It was. Mrs. Bezel described the jewel to me, and asserted that it was +discovered near the bank of the stream." + +"Does she know to whom it belonged?" + +"No! She had no recollection of having seen it before. Neither your +father nor Jeringham wore a scarfpin of that pattern." + +"It is curious that Hilliston should insist that such a pin never +existed." + +"It is very curious," assented Tait significantly, "especially as it was +shown to him by Denis Bantry. This one fact ought to convince you that +Hilliston is playing us false." + +"My doubts were confirmed by his manner to-night," replied Claude +gloomily. "I don't know what his reason may be, or how I can reconcile +his present behavior with his kindness to my mother, but he certainly +seems anxious to thwart us if he can." + +Tait guessed what the reason was very well, but was too wise to explain +himself. Granted that a bond existed between Mrs. Bezel and the lawyer, +and the whole thing became clear, but Mrs. Bezel was Claude's mother, so +Tait held his peace. + +"Why wasn't the scarfpin produced at the trial?" asked Claude, seeing +his friend made no answer. + +"Only one man can answer that question--Denis Bantry." + +"Does my mother know where he is?" + +"No. She has not set eyes on him since she left Horriston." + +"It is strange that he should have suppressed so important a piece of +evidence," said Claude meditatively, "devoted as he was to my father. I +should have thought he would have done his best to bring the murderer to +justice." + +"Perhaps he did not know who the murderer was. However, there is no +doubt that the scarfpin must have told him something about which he +judged it wise to hold his tongue. Perhaps Miss Paynton can enlighten us +on the subject." + +"Then she must know Denis Bantry." + +"So I think," said Tait thoughtfully. "The episode of the scarfpin was +only known to your mother, to Hilliston, and to Bantry. Jenny Paynton +does not know your mother, who denied all knowledge of her. She cannot +be acquainted with Hilliston, or he certainly would not have let her +make use of the affair for Linton's book, even if he had told her. There +only remains Denis Bantry. Now, I know that Jenny has lived all her life +at Thorston, so if she saw this man anywhere it must have been there." + +"Is there anyone in the neighborhood you think is he?" asked Larcher, +greatly excited. + +"None that I can call to mind. But then, I don't know the neighborhood +very well. We must make a thorough exploration of it when we are down +there." + +"Certainly. But it seems to me that the only one who can put us in the +right track is the girl." + +"True enough. I only hope she will be amenable to reason." + +Larcher poured himself out a glass of wine and drank it slowly. Then he +lighted his pipe and returned to his chair with a new idea in his head. + +"I wonder why Hilliston told that lie about the scarfpin, Tait?" + +"Ask me something easier. I cannot say. We'll learn nothing from him. My +dear fellow, it is no use asking further questions of your guardian or +of your mother. We have found out all from them that we can. Nothing now +remains but to see Jenny Paynton." + +"Quite right. And we go to Thorston to-morrow?" + +"By the ordinary train. I have written for the dogcart to meet us. By +this time next week we may know a great deal--we may know the truth." + +"That is, if Hilliston doesn't thwart us. He is going down to +Eastbourne, remember." + +"I know. But I intend to get what the Americans call the 'inside +running,' by seeing Jenny to-morrow evening. The whole case turns on her +explanation of the scarfpin episode. + +"Well," said Claude, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "we found +Linton through his book, we found Jenny through Linton. Through her we +may find Denis Bantry." + +"And through Denis Bantry we may find the man who killed your father," +finished Tait triumphantly. + +"Well, I know what the name of the man will be." + +"What will it be?" + +"Jeringham." + +Tait shrugged his shoulders. Knowing what he did he was by no means +certain on that point. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + A PRÉCIS OF THE CASE. + + +A MONTH ago had anyone prophesied that I, Spenser Tait, would be engaged +in playing the part of an amateur detective, I should have flatly +contradicted his prognostication. Yet here I am doing my best to solve +the mystery which hangs round the death of my friend's father. I cannot +say that I object to the task, for there is something tremendously +exciting in this man hunt. My friendship for Claude is the principal +factor which induces me to meddle with the business; but a slight +flavoring of selfishness is also present. + +Hitherto we had been fairly successful, and have at least found a clew +likely to lead to some certain result. Between Mrs. Bezel, Hilliston, +and Linton's book, we have learned a good deal of the case; and all our +knowledge points to an interview with Jenny Paynton as the next step to +be taken. + +To-morrow we start for Thorston for this purpose, but before exploring +the new field I judge it wise to set down all the facts which have come +to our knowledge, and to deduce therefrom, if possible, a logical reason +for our future actions. I have my suspicions, but these are vague and +intangible. Claude has his suspicions, but these do not coincide with +mine. He believes Jeringham to be guilty of the crime. I think Hilliston +is likely to prove the assassin. Both of us may be wrong. + +To take the case of Mr. Hilliston. His attitude is decidedly aggressive +at the present moment, and he is doing his best to dissuade Claude from +investigating the case. Why should he do so? George Larcher was his +dearest friend, and met with a cruel fate. If there is any chance of his +fate being avenged, surely Hilliston should be the first to prosecute +the inquiries. Instead of doing so he hangs back, and throws cold water +on my efforts and on Claude's. He must have some reason for his actions. +Is that reason to be found at Clarence Cottage in Hampstead? + +This question brings me to a delicate point. My work is hampered by the +fact that Mrs. Bezel is Claude's mother, and I dare not express myself +as I should wish. I gather from the report of the trial that Mrs. +Larcher was a vain and silly coquette, who threw away the love of a good +man for the indulgence of her own selfish instincts. Guilty she may have +been, but not with Jeringham. If she had any lover, it was Francis +Hilliston. After a visit to Clarence Cottage I believe the view taken of +the case by the novelist to be the right one. + +During my interview with Mrs. Bezel I noted her every look and action. +When Hilliston's name occurred she flushed up and looked savage; she was +anxious to know all about the wife at Kensington Gore, and in every way +showed that she had more interest in the man than she cared to confess. +Again, she told me that her illness was of ten years' duration. +Hilliston has been married ten years. What is more likely than that he +should have wearied of the invalid, and so deserted her for Mrs. +Derrick, the rich widow. + +Mrs. Bezel is jealous of Hilliston and of his wife. Her love has changed +to hatred, and I verily believe that she would harm him if she could. +Already she has attempted to do so, for it was only her threat to reveal +all to Claude that made Hilliston produce that report of the Larcher +affair. She has told me all she knows, but I cannot help thinking that +she is keeping back certain facts connected with the case. There is a +hesitancy and doubt in her speech which points to some secret. If I +could learn that secret it might establish the guilt of Hilliston. + +And yet I cannot believe that. No woman, however vain, however +frivolous, would have lived with the man who murdered her husband, who +slew the father of her child. Mrs. Bezel's secret may not directly +inculpate Hilliston, but it may point toward him as the possible +assassin. But I cannot believe that she thinks him guilty. Their +relations with one another forbids so horrible a supposition. + +Nevertheless, Hilliston is afraid of the truth coming to light. He +denies that the garnet scarfpin ever existed, while Mrs. Bezel said she +saw it herself. If the lawyer is not afraid, why should he tell a +deliberate lie? It is his word against that of Mrs. Bezel, and as her +statement is backed up by the description in the novel, I believe she is +telling the truth. Can it be possible that the scarfpin belonged to +Hilliston and was dropped by him in the garden of The Laurels on the +night of the struggle? + +Here Hilliston proves an alibi. He stated to Claude that at the hour of +three o'clock, when the crime was presumably committed, he was at the +ball in the Horriston Town Hall. If that can be proved, he must, +perforce, be innocent. + +Another supposition: Can Mrs. Larcher be actually guilty of her +husband's death, and, knowing this, is Hilliston anxious to stop Claude +in his investigations lest he should learn so terrible a truth? I cannot +believe this, for Mrs. Larcher, or Bezel, set the ball rolling herself, +and were she guilty she certainly would not have run such risk. + +Then, again, Jeringham fled on the night of the murder. For what reason? +If Hilliston killed Larcher why should Jeringham fly? If Mrs. Bezel +killed her husband why should Jeringham fly? I see no reason in his +flight, and yet if he were guilty and Hilliston knew him to be guilty +why should he try and screen him at the present time? Altogether the +case is so confusing that I do not know what to think or whom to +suspect. + +I wonder what has become of Mona Bantry and her child? Mrs. Bezel said +she had not seen the girl or her brother for twenty-five years. Yet they +must be somewhere. Circumstances point to Jenny Paynton having heard the +story of the tragedy from Denis, for no one else could have revealed the +episode of the scarfpin, or have described the jewel. If Denis told her +he must live at Thorston, and if he lives there his sister must be with +him. If this pair, who were in the house on the night of the murder, can +be found, the truth may come to light. + +After searching Thorston and finding out all I can from the +Bantrys,--presuming them to be there,--it is my intention to go down to +Horriston and find out someone who remembers the case. In spite of the +lapse of time there must be some old people alive who danced at that +ball in their hot youth. They may be able to say if George Larcher was +there present in the character of Darnley, and at what time Hilliston +left the ball. I may also hear what they think of Jeringham, and of the +conduct of Mrs. Bezel. In making these investigations I shall not take +Claude, as I shrewdly suspect the opinions of these oldsters regarding +his mother are anything but flattering to that lady. If I go to +Horriston I must go alone. + +On reading over these notes I am hardly satisfied with them. They do not +seem to give me much basis on which to work. I suspect this person and +the other, but I have very little evidence to back me up in such +suspicions. The only thing that seems clear to me is that Hilliston has +some object in thwarting our plans. What the object is I must find out. +Perhaps I shall do so at Thorston, where I am certain to meet both +Hilliston and his wife. + +And that reminds me of what Claude related about her emotion this +evening. It is certainly curious, but the worst of dabbling in detective +business is that one is apt to get over-suspicious. In this case I think +there is no ground for suspicion. Mrs. Hilliston is an American, and +came to England twelve years ago. I know this for certain, for I +remember when she made her _début_ in society. This being the case, she +cannot possibly have any connection with Horriston, and her emotion must +have been merely the recollection of the story related by her husband +when he told her of Claude. + +Well, it is past midnight, and I had better end these unsatisfactory +notes. Detective business is harder than I thought. How am I to evolve +order out of all this chaos I hardly know, save to trust to luck and +Jenny Paynton. And so to bed, as saith worthy Samuel Pepys. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + THORSTON. + + +IT is astonishing how closely one village resembles another in +appearance. The square-towered church, the one winding street, the +low-roofed inn, and red-tiled cottages, isolated by narrow alleys; corn +lands and comfortable farms around, and still further the mansions, more +or less stately, of the county families. Go where you will in the +southern countries, all the villages are so constituted; one description +serves for all, though on occasions the expanse of the Channel +introduces a new feature into the landscape. Thorston was of the same +class, but, in its own opinion, had more pretentions to grandeur than +its neighbors. + +Before the Conquest it had been a considerable Saxon town, and, as its +name indicates, had flourished before the introduction of Christianity +into England. There, according to tradition, a temple to Thor the +Thunderer had stood on the hill now crowned with the church; hence the +name of Thor's town. Report said that Edward the Confessor had built the +church, but of his work little remained, and the present building was +due to the piety or fears of a Norman baron, who wished to expiate his +sins after the fashion of those times, by erecting a house to some +interceding saint. In the present instance this church was dedicated to +St. Elfrida, the holy daughter of Athelstan, who renounced her father's +court to found a nunnery by the winding river Lax, famous for salmon, as +is plainly hinted by its Scandinavian appellation. Yet notwithstanding +church and tradition, Thorston had never since been of much importance, +and it was now but an ordinary rural village, quaint and sleepy. + +From Eastbourne the road, winding, dipping, rising, and curving like a +white snake, ran over hill, through dale, along plain, till it +ultimately formed the High Street of Thorston. Thence it ran again into +the country, but at this point it made its way between houses, thatched +and old; and toward the center opened into a market-place adorned by an +antique cross. The Inn of St. Elfrida, with an effigy of the saint for a +sign, stood on the right of this square, fronting the battered cross; +directly opposite a narrow road led on to the village green, at the end +of which rose the low hill whereon the Church of St. Elfrida stood amid +its trees. Lower down by the Lax could be seen the ruins of her nunnery, +and a well frequented by her was to be inspected in the near +neighborhood. Here, said the legend, she fought with the devil, who +strove to carry away the tower of the church, and being worsted, as the +demons always were by Mother Church, he dropped the tower a few yards +off the main building. As a matter of fact the square tower is detached +from the church, but, as has before been stated, it was built by the +Normans long after Elfrida was laid to rest. But the legend took no +account of dates, nor did the natives of Thorston, who would have been +highly offended had anyone denied the authenticity of their story. In +confirmation thereof they referred to the guide book--a notable +authority truly. + +The whole neighborhood was full of St. Elfrida, who must have been a +busy saint in her day, and numerous tourists came to view church, and +tower, and holy well. The village derived quite an income from her +reputation, and valued the saint accordingly. Amid ancient oaks stood +the gray church with its detached tower; around lichened tombstones +leaned over one another, and rank grass grew up to the verge of the low +stone wall which ran like a battlement round the crest of the little +hill. A flight of rugged steps led up to the lych-gate, and here stood a +pretty girl in converse with Frank Linton, alias John Parver. + +It was a hot summer's day, and the golden light, piercing through the +foliage of the trees, enveloped the girl in a glittering haze. She was +extremely pretty; dark-eyed, dark-haired, with a complexion of roses and +lilies, and as neat a figure as was ever seen. Envious people said that +Miss Paynton pinched her waist, but such was not the case, for she was +too careless of her appearance, and too careful of her health, to +sacrifice the latter to the former. As a matter of fact, she appreciated +brains more than beauty, and much preferred to exercise the first in +clever conversation than to be complimented on the second. Linton, who +had known her for many years, skillfully combined the two modes of +paying homage to his divinity. That he received hard words in return was +to be expected, for Jenny knew her power over the youth, and liked to +exercise it. She was the least vain of mortals, but could not hide from +herself that she was clever and pretty, and therefore entitled to +indulge in coquetry. + +"You grow more beautiful every day, Jenny," said Linton, who had lately +arrived from town and was making up for lost time. + +"And you more stupid," retorted Miss Paynton, climbing up on the low +wall, where she sat and smiled at him from under her straw hat. "If you +have come here to pay me compliments you can go away again. I want you +to talk sense, not nonsense." + +"What shall I talk about?" + +"As if there were any question of that," said she, in supreme disdain. +"Are you not famous now? Tell me of your success." + +"You know about it already. I sent you all the papers. 'A Whim of Fate,' +is the book of the season." + +"Oh, just think of that now! Oh, lucky, lucky Frank! So young and so +successful. You ought to be happy." + +"I am happy, because I now see a chance of making you my----" + +"Now you are talking nonsense," cried Jenny, ruthlessly interrupting +him. "I won't hear a word more, you ridiculous boy. You are my brother, +nothing more." + +"But----" + +"Don't talk about it, Frank. Be sensible. Come now, you have not yet +told me how your father received the news." + +"Oh, he is pleased, of course," said Linton, unwillingly changing the +subject; "but he reserves his opinion till he has read the book. If he +doesn't like it he'll very likely order me to stop writing." + +"I'm sure he won't," said Jenny promptly. "You'll make more as an author +than as a lawyer." + +"No doubt, if you continue to supply me with such excellent plots. I +wish I had your invention, Jenny." + +"It was not invention. You know that quite well. I found an account of +the trial in an old bundle of provincial newspapers. I couldn't have +made up such a story." + +"Jenny," asked Linton, with some apprehension, "has your father read the +book?" + +"No; I asked him to do so, but he refuses to read novels. History is +what he likes--kings and dates, and battles. Father wouldn't waste a +minute over fiction." + +"I hope he won't be angry at your giving me the plot, Jenny." + +Miss Paynton stared at him in surprise, and burst into a merry laugh. +His objection seemed supremely ridiculous to her at that moment. + +"My dear boy, why should he? The account of an old murder case can have +nothing to do with him. I found the papers in the garret among a heap of +old books. I don't suppose he knows of their existence." + +"It was a real case, wasn't it?" + +"Yes; it took place at Horriston in 1866. But of course the public need +not know that." + +"Well, I told someone about it." + +"Oh, you are an idiot, Frank; or else," added Jenny more graciously, +"you are very honest. I suppose you explained that the story was founded +on fact?" + +"Yes." + +"Who asked you about it?" + +"Three people. An old gentleman, and two young men." + +"What are their names?" asked Jenny curiously. + +"I forget. The third one was called Tait, I think, but I don't remember +the names of the other two. It doesn't matter, you know," continued the +novelist hastily; "lots of authors found their plots on episodes in real +life." + +"Oh, it's of no consequence," said Jenny idly. "I suppose they thought +the plot was too clever for you to invent. At all events the credit is +due to you for solving the mystery." + +"Ah! But did I solve it properly? Do you think Michael Dene committed +the crime?" + +"No, I don't!" rejoined Jenny promptly. "I think Jeringham did." + +"Jeringham. Who is he?" + +"I forgot," said Jenny, with some dismay, "I did not tell you the real +names of the people. Jeringham is the man you call Markham in the book. +If you remember, I wanted you to make him commit the crime." + +"If I had done so no one would have read the book," protested the +author. "His flight made it so patent that he was guilty; and I had to +put the crime on to someone like Dene, whom no reader would suspect. Do +you think that Markham--Jeringham really committed the murder?" + +"Yes, I do. If he was innocent why did he fly?" + +"Was he ever found again," asked Linton, with some curiosity. + +"Never! It is five-and-twenty years ago since the murder was committed, +and it is a mystery to this day." + +"I'd like to read that newspaper report for myself," said the author, +after a pause. "Could you not let me see it?" + +Jenny shook her head. "I'm afraid not," she replied guiltily. "You see +Kerry found me with the papers one day and took them away. He was very +angry, and said I had no business to look at them." + +"My stars!" cried Linton, in a startled tone; "what will he say when he +finds out that you and I have made use of them?" + +"He won't find out," replied Jenny, jumping down off the wall. "Kerry +never reads novels, and no one will tell him. Oh, it's quite safe, +Frank, quite safe." + +"I'm not so sure of that, Jenny. My father will talk about my book to +Mr. Paynton, and he'll tell Kerry." + +"Well, what if he does," cried Jenny, skipping down the steps. "I'm sure +I don't care if Kerry does know. Who cares for a musty, fusty old crime +of five-and-twenty years ago? Don't trouble about it, Frank. I'll take +the blame." + +Linton walked on in silence beside her, and they entered the market +place on their way to the vicarage, He was beginning to have some qualms +about the matter. Kerry had a very bad temper, and Linton was by no +means anxious to encounter him. + +"I wish we had left it alone," he said gloomily, pausing by the cross in +the square. + +"Nonsense! Don't be a moral coward," said Jenny pettishly. "I'll take +the blame on myself. Kerry can't kill me be----" + +At this point she was interrupted by a dog-cart containing two young +men, which spun past rapidly. The driver took off his hat to Miss +Paynton with a smile. + +"Oh!" said Jenny composedly, when the vehicle had vanished, "there is +our new Lord of the Manor, Mr. Tait." + +"Why, those are the two fellows who questioned me about my story!" cried +Linton. + +"Are they? Yes, you mentioned the name of Tait," said Jenny quietly; +"but what does it matter? What a fuss you make over nothing." + +"Jenny," said Linton solemnly, "there is going to be trouble over that +story." + +Miss Paynton stared at him in surprise, then pointed an accusing finger +at him. + +"Francis Linton," she said slowly, "you are a silly fool. If ever I help +you again in your writing, I give you leave to marry me." + +Then she ran away and left him dumfounded in the market place. But she +was by no means so light-hearted as she appeared to be. Kerry's anger, +the questions of the two strangers, made her feel uneasy, and she +thought it would have been better had she left the provincial newspapers +in the garret. But Fate decided otherwise, and Jenny Paynton, though she +knew it not, was an unconscious instrument to revive interest in a +forgotten case, to solve a mystery of five-and-twenty years, and to +bring an unknown criminal to justice. Life is a chess board, we are the +puppets, and Fate plays the game. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + IN THE CHURCH. + + +THORSTON MANOR, built in broad meadow land, about a quarter of a mile +from the village, was now the property of Spencer Tait. He had purchased +it lately at a small price from old Miss Felcar, the last representative +of that ancient family. She, unable to maintain the house in its +original splendor, got quit of it altogether in this way, and shortly +afterward took up her quarters at Eastbourne, leaving the house of her +ancestors in the possession of a stranger. + +The house itself was of no great pretensions, or age, dating only from +the second George--a square, red-brick mansion, only redeemed from +actual ugliness by the mellow beauty of its hues. The grounds themselves +were better, and the trees best of all. An avenue curved nobly to the +gate, which gave on the highroad, and to the right of this, fronting the +house, was a delightful garden, laid out in the Dutch fashion. There +were yew trees cut into quaint shapes, stiff and formal hedges running +in straight lines, and beds of old-fashioned flowers. A fountain, a +summer house, and a statue or two completed the furniture of this +pleasant ground, to which Tait introduced his friend with unconcealed +pride. + +"I paid for this," he said, looking round as they paced the broad walks. +"By itself the house is a monstrosity, only rendered endurable by its +years; but you must confess that the garden is worth the money." + +"It is certainly quaint," replied Larcher, looking around with an absent +air, "but I do not care for nature in buckram. The formality of this +place offends my eye." + +"Ah, my dear fellow, you have been used to the wildness of New Zealand +woods of late. You will find these grounds grow on you. I shall leave +you alone this afternoon to make the attempt." + +"Indeed," said Larcher, in some surprise at this cavalier treatment, +"and what do you intend to do?" + +"I am going to church." + +"To church--on a week-day?" + +"Oh, I am not bent on devotion, Claude. But Miss Paynton is the organist +of the parish. To-day is Wednesday, when she is accustomed to practice +between three and five. I propose to see her there." + +"Why?" + +"Can't you guess? To forestall her with Hilliston. That gentleman is at +Eastbourne, and will probably come over to-day or to-morrow to ask Jenny +to hold her tongue. As we can't afford to run such a risk, I must get +all I can out of her to-day." + +"Can I come also?" + +"No!" replied Tait promptly. "It would be necessary for me to introduce +you." + +"What of that? Does it matter?" + +"It matters a great deal. Miss Paynton has, we believe, obtained the +plot of Linton's novel from a report of the trial. She will know the +name of Larcher, and when she hears that you are called so, she will +probably take fright and hold her tongue." + +"But why should she think I have anything to do with the case?" + +"Your own name. Your guardian's," answered Tait quietly. "Both are +mentioned in the report of the trial. Oh, I assure you, Jenny is a +clever girl, and knows that two and two make four. She will put this and +that together, with the result that nothing will be gained by the +interview." + +"Well, well, go alone," said Claude crossly; "though I envy you the +chance. She is a pretty girl, from the glimpse I caught of her." + +"And as wise as she is pretty," laughed Tait. "I will need all my wits +to deal with her. Now, is it settled?" + +"Yes. You go to your organist, and I'll potter about these green alleys +and think myself an abbe of Louis XIV.'s time." + +Having come to this amicable understanding, they went in to luncheon, +after which Tait gave Claude a sketch of the people in the neighborhood. +Later on he sent him into the Dutch garden with a cigar and a book, then +betook himself by a short cut through the park to the Church of St. +Elfrida. Shortly after four he entered by the main door, and found +himself in the aisle listening to the rolling notes of the organ. + +There was no attempt at decoration in that church, for the vicar was +broad in his views, and hating all ritualism from his soul, took a pride +in keeping the edifice bare and unadorned. The heavy arches of gray +stone, the white-washed walls, with here and there a mural tablet, the +plain communion table under the single stained-glass window; nothing +could be less attractive. Only the deep hues of roof and pews, the +golden pipes of the organ, and the noble lectern, with its brazen eagle, +preserved the church from looking absolutely irreverent. Through the +glazed windows of plain glass poured in the white light of day, so that +the interior lacked the reverent gloom, most fitted to the building, and +the marks of time were shown up in what might be termed a cruel manner. +Of old, St. Elfrida's had been rich in precious marbles, in splendid +altars, and gorgeous windows, many-hued and elaborate; but the Puritans +had destroyed all these, and reduced the place to its present bareness, +which the vicar took a pride in preserving. It seemed a shame that so +noble a monument of Norman architecture should be so neglected. + +The red curtains of the organ loft hid the player, but Tait knew that it +was Jenny by the touch, and sat down in a pew to wait till she had +finished her practising. One piece followed the other, and the stately +music vibrated among the arches in great bursts of sound, a march, an +anthem, an offertory, till Tait almost fell asleep, lulled by the drone +of the pipes. At length Jenny brought her performance to an end, and +having dismissed the boy who attended to the bellows, tripped down the +aisle with a music book under her arm. She looked as fresh and pink as a +rose, but quite out of place in that bare, bleak building. Toward her +Tait advanced with a bow. + +"Here I am, you see, Miss Paynton," he said, shaking her by the hand. "I +heard your music, and could not help coming in to listen. I hope you do +not mind my intrusion." + +"Oh, the Lord of the Manor can go anywhere," said Jenny demurely. "I am +glad to see you again, Mr. Tait. The second time to-day, is it not?" + +"Yes; I drove past you in the market place, if I remember rightly. Won't +you sit down, Miss Paynton, and give me all the news. I am terribly +ignorant of local gossip, I assure you." + +Nothing loath, the girl seated herself in a pew near the door, and +occupied herself in fixing her glove. Remembering the conversation with +Linton, she was slightly uneasy at Tait's very direct request, but +thinking that it could not possibly have anything to do with the plot of +Linton's novel, resigned herself to circumstances. Before the +conversation ended she wished that she had refused to speak to Tait at +that moment; but it was then too late. + +"News," she repeated with a laugh, "do we ever have any news in this +dreary place. I should rather ask you for news, Mr. Tait, who are fresh +from London." + +"Oh, but no doubt our young author has already told you all that is +worth hearing," said Tait, deftly leading up to his point; "he has been +quite the lion of the season." + +"Yes. He has been very fortunate," replied Jenny carefully. She did not +relish the sudden introduction of this forbidden subject. + +"And he owes it to you, I believe." + +"To me. Good gracious, Mr. Tait! what have I to do with Frank's +success?" + +"According to what he says, everything." + +"What do you mean," she said, sitting up very straight, with a deeper +color than usual on her cheek. + +"Why," said Tait, looking directly at her, and thereby adding to her +confusion, "Frank told me that you supplied the plot of 'A Whim of +Fate.'" + +"And what if I did, Mr. Tait?" + +"Oh, nothing, only I must compliment you on your--shall we say selection +or invention?" + +"The former," replied Jenny, with extraordinary quickness. "Since Frank +makes no secret of it, why should I? The plot was told him by me, and I +found it set forth as a trial in a newspaper of 1866." + +"H'm! In the _Canterbury Observer_, I believe?" + +"How do you know that is the name of the paper?" she asked in a nervous +tone. + +"I learned it from the same source that supplied me with the history of +the Larcher affair." + +"What! You also know the name of the case?" + +"As you see." + +"Frank does not know it. I did not show him the papers. I suppressed all +names when I told the story," she said incoherently; "but now +you--you----" + +"I know all. Yes, you are right," observed Tait complacently. "I am +better acquainted with the plot of 'A Whim of Fate' than John Parver +himself." + +Jenny sat looking at him in a kind of wild amazement. From the +significance of his tone, the extent of his knowledge, she vaguely felt +that something was wrong. Again, the anger of Kerry, the conversation of +Linton, came into her mind, and she saw into what difficulty the chance +telling of that ancient crime had led her. Tait noticed that she was +perplexed and frightened, so dexterously strove to set her more at ease +by making a clean breast of it, and enlisting her sympathy for Claude. + +"You saw the friend who was with me in the cart, Miss Paynton?" + +"Yes. Who is he?" + +"Claude Larcher!" + +"Claude La----What do you mean, Mr. Tait? I am in the dark. I do not +understand. Have I done anything wrong in--in----" + +"In telling the case to Linton?" finished Tait smoothly. "By no means. +As a matter of fact you have done my friend a service." + +"He is called Larcher! Who is he?" she asked again with an effort. + +"He is the son of George Larcher, who was murdered at Horriston in +1866." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + + FACT AND FICTION. + + +A SILENCE ensued between them; Tait waiting to mark the effect of his +revelation, while Jenny tried to grasp the idea that fiction had changed +unexpectedly to fact. To her the case had been more or less of a +romance, far removed and impossible; as such she had told it to Linton; +but now, brought face to face with the fact that the murdered man's son +was in the neighborhood, she scarcely knew what to think, certainly she +was ignorant what to say. The shock would have unstrung a more nervous +woman, but Jenny Paynton was not wanting in pluck, and so braced herself +up to do what was required of her. Yet it took her a little time to +recover, and seeing this, Tait afforded her the opportunity by talking +broadly of the matter; later on he intended to enter into details. + +"I do not wonder you are startled, Miss Paynton," he said easily; "this +is a coincidence such as we rarely meet with in real life. My friend was +ignorant of his father's fate, but one evening papers were put into his +hands which recounted the tragedy; papers similar to those whence you +obtained the story. He came to tell me all, but scarcely had he begun +his relation, when I became aware that I knew everything beforehand." + +"Had you also seen the papers, Mr. Tait?" + +"No; but I had read 'A Whim of Fate.' There I found the Larcher affair +set forth in the guise of fiction. Astonished at this I sought out +Linton, who, I learned, was the author hidden under the name of John +Parver, and asked him whence he obtained his material. He mentioned your +name, and so I have come to you." + +"Why?" + +"Can you ask? To find out all you know of the matter." + +"For what reason?" + +"I think you can guess my reason," replied Tait quietly. "My friend +Claude Larcher wishes to find out who killed his father." + +"After five-and-twenty years? Impossible!" + +"So I said at first. Now I am of a different opinion. In a short space +of time we have found out a great deal. With your help we will discover +more, and so in the end the matter may be cleared up." + +"You want my help?" + +"Decidedly! It is solely for that reason that Larcher and I have come +here." + +It was a pale-faced Jenny who sat considering a reply to this remark. +She began to be aware that she had inadvertently set a ball rolling, the +progress of which she was powerless to stop. That chance discovery in +the garret had resuscitated an old scandal, and brought her into contact +with people of whose existence she had hitherto been ignorant. As a +matter of fact Jenny was responsible for the revival of the Larcher +affair. Her narration of the plot had caused the writing of the novel, +and that in its turn had freshened the memory of Mrs. Bezel, with the +result that Claude had been told the truth. Now he had come to the +source to learn more. + +"I don't see how I can help," said Jenny, fencing with the inevitable. +"If, as you say, Mr. Larcher saw the _Canterbury Observer_, he must know +as much as I do about the matter." + +"Very true," replied Tait promptly; "but there are many things in the +novel which are not mentioned in the report of the case." + +"Those things are fictitious. You must go to Frank for information about +them." + +"Was that scarfpin episode fictitious?" + +"No," replied Jenny, with some hesitation. "Kerry told me that." + +"Kerry!" + +"Our man-servant. He has been with my father ever since I can remember, +and is quite the autocrat of the household. He found me with those +papers one day after I told Frank the story, and took them away from me. +You have no idea how angry he was that I had read them." + +"Yet he told you about the scarfpin?" + +"Oh! that was because I asked him who had committed the crime," said +Jenny quickly. "At first he would not talk about it, but when I said +that no doubt Jeringham was guilty, since he had fled, Kerry denied it, +and asserted that the crime was committed by the man who owned the +garnet scarfpin." + +"Did he say who owned it?" + +"No. He went away before I could ask him, and will not let me speak of +the matter. In the book Frank makes Michael Dene the owner of the pin." + +"Ah! and Michael Dene is Francis Hilliston in real life." + +"How do you know that?" asked the girl quickly, with a nervous start. + +"My dear young lady, I have read the report of the case and the novel. +It is easy to see who your fictitious personages are. Do you know Mr. +Hilliston?" + +"A little. He has visited my father once or twice, but we have not seen +him now for many years. In fact, I had almost forgotten his name till I +saw it in the case." + +"Humph! In the novel Michael Dene, the man meant for Hilliston, commits +the crime. Was that your idea or Linton's?" + +"It was Frank's. Dene was the least likely person to be suspected, and +it was necessary to keep up the mystery to the end. But I think he ought +to have made Markham commit the crime." + +"Markham is Jeringham, is he not?" said Tait thoughtfully. "With your +permission, Miss Paynton, we will use the real names, not the +fictitious. It will help us to understand the matter more clearly." + +Jenny stood up, and tucked the music book under her arm. The +recollection of Kerry's anger made her feel that she was unwise to talk +so freely to a stranger about the matter. Hitherto, Tait had taken his +own way; now she was resolved to take hers. + +"I don't want to speak any more about it," she said resolutely. "I am +very sorry I told Frank the story, and meddled with those papers. Let me +pass, Mr. Tait, and drop the subject." + +"No, don't do that," cried Tait, rising in his turn, and barring her +way. "You must not fail me at the eleventh hour. My friend is bent on +learning the truth, and surely you will not grudge him help. Remember it +is the murderer of his father whom he desires to bring to justice." + +"I can't say any more. I know no more, Mr. Tait. Do you know what I am +about to do?" + +"No," said Tait, looking at her grave face in some wonder. + +"I am going home to tell my father and Kerry what use I made of those +papers. If I have acted wrongly, it is but right that they should know." + +"They will know shortly without your telling, Miss Jenny." + +"Ah, you intend to speak of the matter yourself?" + +"Perhaps! But in this case I allude to Hilliston." + +"Hilliston!" repeated Jenny, in surprise. "What has he to do with the +matter?" + +"A great deal, I fancy. More than you or I suspect. He is now at +Eastbourne, and I am certain he will come over here to see you +to-morrow." + +"To see me! Why?" + +"Because he wants you to hold your tongue about these matters." + +"Mr. Tait," she cried, with a sudden flush, "surely you are not biased +by Frank's book? You imply that Mr. Hilliston is afraid of the truth." + +"I think he is! In fact I am sure he is." + +"Do you believe he committed that cowardly crime of twenty-five years +ago?" asked Jenny, with scorn. + +"What is your own opinion?" was the counter question. + +"I believe that Jeringham was the murderer. Yes! Captain Larcher went in +disguise to that ball, and learned the truth from the lips of his own +wife. I believe she loved Jeringham. I believe he followed her home on +that fatal night, urging her to fly. Then Captain Larcher appeared on +the scene, and in the struggle that ensued he was killed. Jeringham +fled, and Mrs. Larcher died. That, I am certain, is the true history of +this crime." + +"You, then, think that Mrs. Larcher was privy to the murder?" + +"Oh, I don't say that!" said the girl, shrinking back; "it is impossible +to say. But I have no right to talk to you about these matters, Mr. +Tait. I have told you all I know. Let me pass, please." + +Tait bowed, and stood aside hat in hand. She flitted down the aisle, a +slim girlish figure, and had arrived at the door when his voice arrested +her. + +"One moment, Miss Paynton," he said, following her quickly. + +"What is it?" + +"Don't tell your father of this for twenty-four hours." + +"Why?" + +"Because I want to prove to you that what I say is true. Hilliston will +inform your father himself, and ask you to be silent." + +"It is too late for that now--unfortunately." + +"Why unfortunately? You should be glad to have strengthened the hands of +justice. However, we need not speak of that now. Will you promise to +withhold your confession for the time I ask?" + +"I promise nothing, Mr. Tait. Good-evening!" + +"But, Miss Paynton," he said, following her again, "you surely will not +be so rash. You can have no idea how important these matters are to my +friend. Mr. Hilliston is certain to inform your father within the next +twenty-four hours, so surely you can give us that time to do what we +can. I beg of you----" + +Jenny stopped irresolutely, and looked at Tait with a mixture of anger +and doubt. The matter had now grown so intricate that she did not know +what to do, what to say. She had not known Tait long enough to be guided +by his advice, or to rely on his judgment; and her impulse was to tell +her father and receive suggestions as to what was best to be done under +the circumstances. Yet, she also mistrusted Hilliston, as his connection +with the Horriston case seemed to her to be by no means as simple as had +appeared at first sight. She was suspicious of him, and if he came over +to Thurston especially to ask her to be silent, that would go a long way +toward confirming her doubts. And then, after all, no harm could be done +within the twenty-four hours, as afterward she could tell her father; +thus, at once satisfying her conscience and her curiosity, she made the +compromise. + +"Very well, Mr. Tait," she said gravely. "I promise to be silent for +twenty-four hours." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + + A NEW SUSPICION. + + +SPENSER TAIT walked back to the Manor House with the pleasing conviction +that he had passed a very profitable hour. He had warned Jenny about the +probable movements of Hilliston, and thus had put her on her guard +against that astute individual. Once an idea enters a woman's head, it +is impossible to get it out again, and Tait, by half hinting a +confirmation of Jenny's suspicions regarding the lawyer, had made her +uneasily conscious that Hilliston was a man to be watched and reckoned +with. If Hilliston fulfilled Tait's prophecy, the little man believed +that Jenny would resent his interference, penetrate his motives, and +thwart him, if possible. In spite of her denial that she thought him +guilty, Tait could not but perceive that the reading of the case had not +biased her in favor of the dead man's friend. Jenny believed that +Jeringham had committed the crime, but, if Hilliston acted indiscreetly, +it would not take much to induce her to alter that opinion. Tait +chuckled as he thought of these things; for he had not only cut the +ground from under Hilliston's feet by warning Jenny of his possible +arrival, but had, as he truly thought, converted a passive spectator +into an active enemy. + +Again, he had learned that it was the old servant who had informed the +girl concerning the scarfpin episode. Kerry said that the man who owned +the scarfpin was guilty; and Kerry knew to whom the scarfpin belonged. +If he could only be induced to part with the information there might be +some chance of solving the mystery; but Kerry's--or rather Denis +Bantry's--past conduct and present attitude were so doubtful that it was +difficult to know how he would act, even though he were driven into a +corner. Tait had little doubt in his own mind that Kerry was the old +servant of Captain Larcher, for no one but he knew the truth about the +scarfpin. Nevertheless, he failed to understand why the man had changed +his name, and why he was staying at Thorston as servant to a recluse +like Paynton. Only a personal interview with him could settle these +vexed questions, but Tait was of two opinions whether Kerry would be +amenable to reason, and confess his reasons for such concealment. + +Thus thinking, and trying to come to some conclusion regarding the new +aspect placed upon affairs by the conversation with Jenny, the little +man arrived home, and learning that Claude was still in the garden, he +went there to report the result of his interview, and discuss the +situation. Larcher was leaning back in a comfortable garden chair, with +an open book on his knee, but, instead of reading, he was staring with +unseeing eyes into the fresh green of the tree above him. On hearing +Tait's brisk step he hastily lowered his head with a flush, as though he +had been caught doing something wrong, and grew still more confused when +he saw his friend looking at him with a queer expression of amusement. + +"She is a pretty girl," said Tait significantly; "and I don't wonder you +are thinking of her." + +"Thinking of who?" asked Claude merrily, at this reading of his +thoughts. "Are you a mind reader?" + +"So far as you are concerned, I am. Knowing how easily influenced you +are by the sight of a pretty face, I don't think I am far wrong in +guessing that your thoughts were with Jenny Paynton." + +"Well, yes," replied Claude, with a frank laugh. "I do not deny it. The +glimpse I caught of her as we drove past in the cart charmed me greatly. +I have rarely seen a more sympathetic and piquant face." + +"Bah! You say that of every woman you meet. Your geese are always +swans." + +"Jenny is, at all events!" said Larcher promptly; "and you cannot deny +that; but I admire her exceedingly--that is, as a pretty woman. You see, +I already call her Jenny in my own mind, but that is because you always +talk of her by her Christian name. Now, Jenny is----" + +"My dear Don Juan," said Tait blandly; "don't you think we had better +leave off these erotics and get to business. You must not indulge in the +ideal to the exclusion of the real." + +"Oh, not that business!" sighed Larcher wearily. "I don't believe we'll +do any good with it. The mystery of my father's death is likely to +remain one to the end of time for all I can see. Every trace is +obliterated by the snows of twenty-five years." + +"Not entirely, my friend. For instance, I have learned an important fact +to-day." + +"From Miss Paynton?" + +"Yes. We had a long conversation, and she was considerably startled when +she learned the object of your visit here." + +"Was it wise of you to tell her?" + +"Why, yes," returned Tait decidedly. "We can do nothing without her +help, and that she will refuse to give us unless she learns the reason +of our inquiries." + +"What is her opinion of the matter? The same as Linton's, I suppose?" + +"By no means. She thinks that Jeringham killed your father; but I am not +altogether sure that she does not suspect Hilliston. After all, she may +come round to Linton's opinion before long." + +"Did you tell her that we suspected Hilliston?" asked Claude anxiously. + +"Not directly. But I permitted myself to hint as much. However, I only +aided the seed of suspicion to sprout, for it was already implanted in +her mind. You look astonished, Claude, but recall to your recollection +the report of that case, and you will see that Hilliston was far too +much mixed up in the matter to be as ignorant as he pretended to be at +the trial. According to his evidence he had not left the ballroom, and +consequently could have known nothing of the tragedy which was then +being enacted at The Laurels. Yet, he knows details which, so far as I +can see, prove him to have been an eye-witness." + +Claude jumped to his feet, and began restlessly pacing up and down the +gravel walk. He yet retained some belief in Hilliston, and was reluctant +to think that one to whom he owed so much should be guilty of so foul a +crime. It was true that certain circumstances looked black against him, +but these were purely theoretical, and by no means founded on absolute +facts. After due consideration Claude inclined to the belief that Tait +was too easily satisfied of Hilliston's guilt, and was willing to accept +any stray facts likely to confirm his theory. Thus biased he could not +possibly look on the matter in a fair and equable manner. The wish was +altogether too greatly father to the thought. + +"I don't think you give Hilliston a fair show, Tait," he said, stepping +before his friend. "If he winks an eye you look on it as a sign of his +guilt. My mother assured me solemnly that Hilliston was at the ball when +the tragedy occurred." + +"Oh, in that case, I have nothing more to say," said Tait coldly. +"Still," he added rather spitefully, "I should like to know why Mr. +Hilliston is so anxious to keep the matter quiet." + +"Tait!" said Claude hoarsely, sitting down by his friend and seizing his +arm; "do you know I have often asked myself that question, and I have +found a reply thereto; the only reply of which I can think." + +He paused, and looked fearfully around; then wiped the sweat off his +white face with a nervous gesture. Tait eyed him in amazement, and could +not understand what had come over his usually self-possessed friend; but +he had no time to speak, for Claude, with an irrepressible shiver, +whispered in a low voice: + +"What if my mother should be guilty, after all? Ah, you may well look +astonished, but that is the hideous doubt which has haunted me for days. +My mother says she ran at my father with a dagger, but fainted before +she struck him. What if she did not faint; if she really killed him, and +Hilliston, knowing this, is trying to screen her, and trying to save me +from knowing the truth?" + +"But, my dear fellow, the trial----" + +"Never mind the trial. We now know that Denis swore falsely when he +asserted that my father was not in the house on that night. We know that +he was in the house, and that my mother found him with Mona Bantry. Her +jealousy might have carried her to greater lengths than she intended to +go. Denis saved her at the trial by telling a lie; but we know the +truth, and I cannot rid myself of a doubt, that she may be guilty. If +so, in place of being an enemy, Hilliston is acting the part of a friend +in placing obstacles in our way." + +Tait shook his head. "I do not believe Mrs. Bezel is guilty," he said +quietly; "if she had been, she would certainly not have written to you, +and thus forced Hilliston to show you the papers. Banish the thought +from your heart, Claude. I am as certain as I sit here that your mother +is innocent of the crime." + +"If I could only be certain!" + +"And why should you not be," exclaimed Tait vigorously. "An eye-witness +could tell you the truth." + +"Where can I find an eye-witness?" cried Claude, with an impatient +frown. "Mona Bantry and Jeringham have both fled; they are probably dead +by this time. My mother denies that she struck the blow, and Hilliston, +she says, was at the ball when the murder took place. Who can tell me +the truth?" + +"Denis Bantry," said Tait quietly. "Listen to me, Claude. The episode of +the garnet scarfpin, which to my mind is the clew to the assassin, is +only known to your mother, to Hilliston, and to Denis Bantry. Now +Hilliston denies that such a trinket exists; your mother insists that it +was found on the bank of the river after the murder. The only person who +can give the casting vote--who can arbitrate, so to speak--is Denis +Bantry." + +"And where is Denis Bantry? Lost or dead, years ago." + +"Nothing of the sort, my friend. Denis Bantry is alive and in this +neighborhood. Yes; Jenny Paynton admitted to me that the scarfpin +episode was related to her by their old servant, Kerry. Therefore, it +naturally follows that Kerry is Denis Bantry." + +"But why is he hiding here under another name?" said Larcher, after he +had digested this piece of information, with a due display of +astonishment. + +"That I cannot say. Unless," here Tait hesitated before uttering his +opinion, "unless Denis Bantry is the guilty person." + +"But that is impossible; that is out of the question," said Claude +decidedly. "He was devoted to my father, as you know. Why should he turn +and kill him without a cause?" + +"Ah!" said Tait significantly; "what if he had a cause, and a very good +one, to kill your father. Recall your mother's confession. She returned +at three o'clock in the morning and found her husband alone with Mona, +the sister of Denis. She accused Mona of being her husband's mistress, +and the girl confessed her guilt, which your father evidently could not +deny. Now what is more probable than that Denis, attracted by the high +voices, should have followed your mother to the room. There he would +hear the truth, probably while waiting at the door. What follows? With +his impulsive Irish temperament he dashes in, hot to avenge the wrong +done to his sister. The dagger dropped by your mother is at his feet; he +picks it up and kills his master on the instant. Your mother, in a faint +on the floor, knows nothing of what is going on, and brother and sister +remove the body to the river, where they drop it in. Then Mona is sent +away by Denis to hide her shame and evade awkward questions, while he +remains." + +"But why should he remain?" interrupted Claude smartly. "Would it not +have been wiser for him to fly?" + +"And so confess his guilt. No! He induces Jeringham to fly, with a +threat of denouncing him as the murderer of Larcher. Jeringham is in +such a dilemma that, seeing that all the evidence will be against him, +he takes to flight. Thereupon Denis is able to save his mistress, and +himself, by denying that Larcher came to the house on that night. Of +course, this is all pure theory; still it is as circumstantial as the +rest of the evidence we have in hand." + +But Claude was by no means inclined to agree with this last remark. +"There are flaws in your argument," he said, after a few moments' +reflection. "If Denis intended to deny that my father was in the house +on that night, why should he induce Jeringham to fly?" + +"To make assurance doubly sure. No doubt he intended first to put the +blame on Jeringham, but finding that Mrs. Larcher was likely to be +accused, he made things safe for her by denying that his master returned +on that evening. Only four people knew of the return; Mona, who fled, +Mrs. Larcher, who held her tongue to save her neck; Denis, who swore +falsely to serve his mistress; and Jeringham, who thought he might be +accused of the crime." + +"But why wouldn't he have denounced Denis?" + +"He was doubtless ignorant that Denis was the criminal. You forget that +Jeringham was in the garden, and knew nothing of what was taking place +in the sitting room. Denis rushed out, and finding Jeringham may have +told him that Mrs. Larcher had killed her husband on his account. The +man, bewildered and shocked, yet sees that he is complicated in the case +through his love for Mrs. Larcher; he guesses that owing to the gossip +of the place he may be accused of the crime, and so does the wisest +thing he could do,--the only thing he could do,--and seeks refuge in +flight." + +"Then you think Denis is guilty?" + +"I can't say. As you see, I can make a strong case out against your +mother, against Jeringham, against Denis. Yes, I could even make a case +against Mona Bantry; but it is sole theory. Yet Denis must have some +reason for hiding here under the name of 'Kerry,' and for keeping those +papers found by Jenny which contained a report of the case. The case is +strong against Hilliston, I admit, but is stronger against your father's +own servant." + +"I don't think so," said Claude quietly. "If Denis had killed my father, +he would not have told Jenny about the scarfpin." + +"Why not! The scarfpin may have belonged to Jeringham--to Hilliston. For +his own safety--now that the case is recognized after so many years by a +girl's rash action--Denis would not hesitate to blame them to save +himself. Taking it all round," added Tait, with the air of one who has +settled the question, "I think the conduct of Denis is very suspicious, +and I would not be surprised if he turned out to be the guilty person." + +"But the acts of Hilliston?" + +Tait rubbed his head and looked vexed, for he was unable to give a +direct answer. "Let us leave the matter alone for the present," he said +crossly. "I am getting bewildered with all this talk. Only one person +can tell the truth, and that is Kerry, alias Denis Bantry." + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + + THE RECLUSE. + + +MEANWHILE Jenny was proceeding homeward in a rather unhappy state of +mind. The conversation had left an unpleasant impression, and she was by +no means sure what it would lead to. A hundred times did she wish that +she had not meddled with the matter; but it was now too late for +regrets, and she recognized that she must bear the burden of her +wrong-doing. Though, indeed, she could see no reason to characterize her +action by so harsh a name. + +"A bundle of old papers in a garret," she thought, walking quickly +through the lane; "where was the harm in reading them? And, as they +contained an interesting story, I fail to see where I acted wrongly in +telling it to Frank. The Larcher affair can have nothing to do with +papa, even though Kerry was so angry. I'll speak to Kerry, and ask him +if I have done wrong." + +According to her promise she was determined to say nothing to her father +for at least twenty-four hours, for she was curious to see if Mr. +Hilliston would call to speak of the matter. If he did so, then would be +the time to exculpate herself; but, pending such visit, she saw no +reason why she should not consult with Kerry. He had expressed anger at +her possession of the papers, so he, if anyone, would be able to explain +if she had been rash. On Kerry's answer would depend the explanation due +to her father. + +Thus thinking, she speedily arrived in a deep lane, at the end of which +she turned into a white gate set in a rugged stone wall. Nut trees bent +over this wall, dropping their fruit into the ruts of the road, and on +the opposite side rose a steep green bank topped by blackberry bushes. +This byway was little frequented, and here quiet constantly reigned, +unbroken save by the voices of birds. It was a great place for +nightingales, and many a summer evening did Jenny stand under the +bending boughs listening to the warblings of those night singers. So +bird-haunted was the spot that here, if anywhere, Keats might have +composed his famous ode. Indeed, the road was known as Nightingale Lane, +for obvious reasons. + +Passing through the gate, Jenny saw before her the little garden, +odorous with homely cottage flowers--sweet-williams, delicate pea +blossom, ruddy marigolds, and somber bushes of rosemary. A hawthorn +hedge on the right divided the flowers from the kitchen garden; while to +the left grew gnarled apple and pear trees, now white with bloom. A +sprawling peach tree clung to the guarding wall of the lane, and beds of +thyme and mignonette perfumed the still air. In the center of this +sweetness was built the humble cottage of Ferdinand Paynton, a broad, +low-roofed building, with whitewashed walls and quaint windows, +diamond-paned and snowy curtained. Pots of flowers were set within, and +under the eaves of the thatched roof twittered the darting swallows. One +often sees such peaceful homesteads in the heart of England, breathing +quiet and tranquillity. Rose Cottage, as it was called, from the +prevailing flower in the garden, was worthy to be enshrined in a fairy +tale. + +Here lived Ferdinand Paynton, with his only daughter, and two servants, +male and female. The one was Kerry, a crabbed old Irishman, stanch as +steel, and devoted to his master; the other a withered crone who was +never seen without her bonnet, yet who bore the reputation of being an +excellent cook, and an economical housekeeper. As Mr. Paynton was poor, +and spent more than he could afford on books, Maria was very necessary +to him, as she scraped and screwed with miserly care, yet withal gave +him good meals, and kept the tiny house like a new pin. Kerry attended +principally to the garden and the books; looked after Jenny, whom he was +always scolding, and passed his leisure time in fishing in the Lax. + +Hot or cold, wet or fine, summer or winter, nothing varied in the +routine of Rose Cottage. Mr. Paynton rose at nine, took his breakfast, +and read his paper till ten, then walked for an hour or so in the garden +with Jenny. Till luncheon he wrote; after luncheon he slept, and then +wrote again till dinner time. The evening in summer was spent in the +garden, in winter within doors, before a roaring fire in the bookroom. +For more than twenty years life had gone on in this peaceful fashion, +and during that time Jenny could not remember the occurrence of a single +episode worth recording. Rose Cottage might have been the palace of the +Sleeping Beauty during the hundred years' spell. + +The inhabitant of this hermitage was a puzzle to the gossips of +Thorston, for, after the industrious inquiries of twenty years, they +were as wise as ever touching his antecedents. Then he had arrived with +Kerry, and his daughter, a child of five, and, staying at the Inn of St. +Elfrida, had looked about for a small place in the neighborhood. Rose +Cottage, then empty and much neglected, appeared to be the most secluded +spot procurable, so Mr. Paynton set it in order, patched the roof, +cultivated the garden, and took up his abode therein. Here he had lived +ever since, rarely leaving it, seeing few people, and accepting no +invitations. The man was a recluse, and disliked his fellow-creatures, +so when Thorston became aware of his peculiarities he was left alone to +live as he chose. It may be guessed that his peculiar habits made him +unpopular. + +The vicar was friendly to the misanthrope, for in Paynton he found a +kindred soul in the matter of books; and many a pleasant evening did +they spend in discussing literary subjects. The bookroom was the +pleasantest apartment in the house, cosy and warm, and lined throughout +with volumes. In the deep window stood the desk, and here Ferdinand +Paynton sat and wrote all day, save when he took his usual stroll in the +garden. Jenny had also grown up in the bookroom, and, as her education +had been conducted by her father, she was remarkably intelligent for a +country maiden, and could talk excellently on literature, old and new. +For the softer graces of womanhood she was indebted to the care of Mrs. +Linton, who from the first had taken a great interest in the motherless +girl. + +Into this room came Jenny, with her mind full of the recent conversation +with Tait. She threw down her music-book on the table and went to kiss +her father. He was seated in his armchair, instead of at his desk as +usual, and looked rather sternly at her as she bent over him. Tall and +white-haired, with a sad face and a slim figure, the old man looked +singularly interesting, his appearance being enhanced by his peculiar +garb, a dressing gown and a black skullcap. Indeed, he was more like a +mediæval magician than an aged gentleman of the nineteenth century. He +looked like a man with a history, which was doubtless the reason +Thorston gossips were so anxious concerning his past. In country towns +curiosity is quite a disease. + +In the hurry of her entrance Jenny had not noticed that a stranger was +present, but on greeting her father with a fond kiss, she turned to see +an elderly gentleman looking at her intently. Mr. Paynton explained the +presence of the stranger with less than his usual suavity, but from the +tone of his voice Jenny guessed that he was angry with her. As it +afterward appeared he had good reason to be. + +"Jenny, this is my friend, Mr. Hilliston." + +Hilliston! Jenny could not suppress a start of surprise, even of alarm. +The prophecy of Tait had been fulfilled sooner than she had expected. +There was something uncanny in the speedy accomplishment of a +prognostication in which, at the time, she had hardly believed. + +"Hilliston! Mr. Hilliston!" she repeated, with a gasp of surprise, +"already!" + +This time it was Hilliston's turn to be surprised, and his face darkened +with suspicion. + +"What am I to understand by 'already,' Miss Paynton?" he said quickly. + +"Why! That is--Mr. Tait----" began Jenny, in excuse, when her father cut +her short. He rose from his chair, and exclaimed in a voice of alarm: + +"Tait! Then you have seen him already?" + +"Yes, father," said the girl, in some bewilderment at his tone. + +"Where?" + +"In the church, half an hour ago." + +"Did he question you?" + +"He did." + +"And you replied?" + +"I answered his questions," said Jenny quietly, "if you refer to the +Larcher affair." + +"I do refer to it," groaned her father, sinking back into his chair. +"Unhappy girl! you know not what trouble you have caused." + +Hilliston said nothing, but stood moodily considering what was best to +be done. He saw that Tait had been too clever for him, and had +anticipated his arrival. Yet he had come as speedily as possible; not a +moment had he lost since his arrival in Eastbourne to seek out Jenny and +ask her to be silent. But it was too late; he had missed his opportunity +by a few minutes, and it only remained for him to learn how much the +girl had told his enemy. No wonder he hated Tait; the fellow was too +dangerous a foeman to be despised. + +"We may yet mend matters," he said judiciously, "if Miss Jenny will +repeat so much of the conversation as she remembers." + +"Why should I repeat it?" said Jenny, objecting to this interference, as +Tait guessed she would. "There was nothing wrong in the conversation +with Mr. Tait that I know of." + +"There was nothing wrong in your telling Linton the story you found in +_The Canterbury Observer_," replied Hilliston dryly; "yet it would have +been as well had you not done so." + +"Father," cried Jenny, turning toward the old man with an appealing +gesture, "have I done wrong?" + +"Yes, child," he answered, with a sigh, "very wrong, but you sinned in +ignorance. Kerry told me you had found the bundle and read about the +trial, but I passed that over. Now it is different. You repeated it to +young Linton, and Mr. Hilliston tells me that all London knows the story +through his book." + +"I am very sorry," said Jenny, after a pause, "but I really did not know +that it was wrong of me to act as I have done. A bundle of old +newspapers in a garret! Surely I was justified in reading them--in +telling Frank what I conceived would be a good plot for a story." + +"I don't blame you, Miss Paynton," said Hilliston kindly; "but it so +happens that your father did not want that affair again brought before +the public. After all, you have had less to do with it than Fate." + +"Than Fate," interrupted Paynton, with a groan. "Good Heavens, am I to +be----" + +"Paynton!" said Hilliston, in a warning voice. + +"I forgot," muttered the old man, with a shiver. "No more--no more. +Jenny, tell us what you said to Mr. Tait." + +Considerably astonished, the girl repeated the conversation as closely +as she could remember. Both Hilliston and her father listened with the +keenest interest, and seemed relieved when she finished. + +"It is not so bad as I expected," said the former, with a nod. "All you +have to do, Paynton, is to warn Kerry against gratifying the curiosity +of these young men. They will be certain to ask him questions." + +"Kerry will baffle them; have no fear of that," said Paynton harshly, +"and, Jenny, you are not to refer to this subject again with Mr. Tait." + +"Am I not to speak to him?" + +Her father interrogated Hilliston with a look, received a nod, and +answered accordingly. + +"You can speak to Mr. Tait, if you choose, and no doubt you will be +introduced by the vicar to Mr. Larcher. I place no prohibition on your +speaking to them, but only warn you to avoid the subject of the Larcher +affair. Promise!" + +"I promise. I am sorry I ever had anything to do with it." + +"Say no more about it, my dear," said Hilliston, patting her shoulder. +"How could you be expected to know? But now you have been warned, do not +speak more of it. We do not wish the unjustifiable curiosity of these +idle young men to be gratified." + +"If you assist them to learn that which had better be hidden, you will +ruin me," cried Paynton, with a passionate gesture. + +"Father! Ruin you?" + +"Yes! It means ruin, disgrace--perhaps death! Ah!" + +He broke down with a cry, and Hilliston, taking Jenny by the hand, led +her to the door. + +"Go away, my dear. Your father is ill," he said, in a whisper, and +pushing her outside the door, locked it forthwith. Jenny stood in the +passage, in an agony of fear and surprise. Ruin! Disgrace! Death! What +was the meaning of those terrible words? + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI. + + AN OLD SERVANT. + + +LEAVING the two men to talk over their dark secrets together, Jenny went +into the garden. Her brow burned as with fever, and her understanding +was confused by the thoughts which filled her mind. What was the meaning +of her father's words? Why had Mr. Hilliston come over from Eastbourne +to request her silence? And what was the connection between him and her +sole surviving parent? She paced up and down the gravel walk vainly +asking herself these questions, and racking her brain as to possible +answers. Hitherto the sky of her young life had been pure and serene; +but now, by her own act--as though she had unconsciously wrought a +malignant spell--a sudden storm had arisen, which threatened to overturn +the foundations of her small world. In the very unexpectedness of these +events lay their terror. + +As Tait shrewdly surmised, Jenny was by no means satisfied with the +evidence of Hilliston at the trial of Mrs. Larcher. So far as she could +judge from the unsatisfactory report in _The Canterbury Observer_, he +had given his version of the affair glibly enough; yet there seemed to +be something behind which he was anxious to suppress. Definitely enough +he stated that he had not been at The Laurels on the fatal night; that +he had not seen Captain Larcher since he left for London; that he had +not noted whether Mrs. Larcher wore that all-important dagger when she +left the ballroom. But, pressed by an evidently suspicious counsel, he +accounted so minutely for every moment of his time, his evidence had +about it such an air of frank falseness, that even unsophisticated Jenny +saw that the man was acting a part. She did not believe him guilty of +the crime, but she was certain in her own mind that he knew who had +struck the fatal blow; nay more, Jenny thought it not impossible that he +had been at The Laurels after three that morning, in spite of his +denial, and had seen the tragedy take place. Tait's hints, confirming +her own doubts, led her to gravely doubt the purity of Mr. Hilliston's +motives then and now. + +But what most perplexed the girl was the reason why the lawyer called to +see her father on the subject and requested her silence. She knew +nothing of the tragedy save through the papers--those old, faded papers, +dated 1866, which she had found in the garret. She was not born when the +murder took place, so Hilliston could not possibly wish to close her +mouth for her own sake. It was on her father's account that Jenny +feared. What could he know of an obscure crime perpetrated in a country +town so many years ago; she could recall no mention of his name in the +report of the trial; yet his words led her to suspect that he was more +closely connected with that tragic past than he chose to admit. Could it +be that her father was a relative of Jeringham, and, knowing that +Jeringham was still alive, wished to stop all inquiries made as to his +whereabouts, lest he should be punished for his early sin? This was the +only feasible suggestion she could make, and yet it failed to satisfy +her too exacting mind. + +Again, there was Kerry. Kerry certainly had a personal interest in the +case; else he could scarcely have related the episode of the scarfpin. +Moreover, he had been very angry when he found her with the papers in +her possession; and putting these two things together it would seem as +if he knew more than he chose to tell. Jenny thought, for the +gratification of her own curiosity, she would ask Kerry to explain these +matters; and so went to the kitchen in search of him. Maria was there, +cross and deaf as usual, and intimated that Kerry had been out some two +hours on a message. This sounded extraordinary to Jenny, who knew that +the old servant rarely left the house; but it argued that her father was +anxious to have him out of the way during the visit of Hilliston. What +did it all mean? A horrible fear seized the girl, lest she should have +set some machinery in motion which would end in crushing her unhappy +father. Unhappy he had always been, and given to seclusion. There must +be some reason for this, and Jenny felt a vague alarm, which she could +neither express nor display. Dearly enough had she paid for meddling +with that old bundle of papers. + +Again she returned to the garden, and went outside into the lane in +order to see if Kerry was in sight. In a few minutes he came shuffling +round the corner, and his withered face relaxed into a grin when he saw +her standing by the gate. She was the apple of his eye, and though he +scolded her often himself, yet he never let anyone say a word against +her. To look askance at Jenny was to lose Kerry's favor and win his +enmity forever. + +"Ah! there ye are, me darling Miss Jenny," he said, with the familiarity +of an old servant, "watching and waiting for poor old Kerry. Sure it is +a sunbeam you are in this dark lane." + +"Kerry! I want to speak to you." + +The change in her tone struck him at once, and he peered sharply into +her fresh face with his bleared eyes. A look of wonder stole into them +at the sight of her white cheeks, and he crossed himself before replying +so as to avert any evil that might befall. Kerry always lived in a state +of suspense, waiting for a bolt from the blue. Jenny's scared face +almost assured him that it had fallen. + +"What is it, _alannah_?" he asked, pausing at the gate. "Is anything +wrong?" + +"Oh, no! nothing is wrong, Kerry! What could be wrong?" said Jenny +nervously; "only papa has a visitor." + +"Augh! His riverence?" + +"No; not the vicar. A stranger--or at least almost a stranger," she +said, half to herself. "It is many years since Mr. Hilliston came here." + +"Mr. Hilliston!" cried Kerry, with an ashen face. "The black curse on +him and his! What is he doing with the master?" + +"I don't know, Kerry," replied Jenny, rather astonished at the old man's +vehemence; "he has been with father over two hours." + +"And I was sent away," muttered Kerry, under his breath. "Sorrow befall +you, black attorney that you are. Never did you cross a threshold +without bringing grief to all hearts. It was an evil day we saw you, and +an evil day when we see you again." + +He uplifted his hands as though about to invoke a curse on Hilliston, +then, unexpectedly letting them fall, he turned sharply on Jenny. + +"How did he come, miss?" + +"By train from Eastbourne--no doubt he walked from the station." + +"I'll drive him back," exclaimed Kerry, in quite an amiable voice. "Sure +he'll be weary on his legs. Why not? I'll borrow his riverence's trap +and the little mare with the white foreleg, but----" + +"Kerry, father might not like it." + +"Get along with ye," said Kerry cheerfully; "sure his riverence has +offered the trap a hundred times. I'll take it on myself to explain to +the master. Keep Mr. Hilliston here till he sees me arriving up this +road--a dirty one it is, too, bad cess to it!" + +He was hurrying off, when Jenny stopped him. She saw that his borrowing +of the vicar's honey trap was a mere excuse to get Hilliston to himself +for half an hour, and, rendered more curious than ever by Kerry's artful +way of arranging matters, she ran after him and pulled his sleeve. + +"Kerry! Kerry! Has Mr. Hilliston come over to see papa about the Larcher +affair?" + +"How should I know," retorted Kerry, relapsing into his crusty humor; +"for shame, Miss Jenny! Is it your business or mine?" + +"It is mine," said the girl, with a resolute look on her face. "Mr. +Hilliston came over to ask me to be silent about what was contained in +those papers you took from me." + +"How does he know of that, miss?" + +"Because all London now knows the story of the Larcher affair." + +"Augh! Get away with ye. Sure it's a fool you're making of old Kerry," +said the servant, in an incredulous and angry tone. + +"Indeed, I am doing no such thing. I did not know there was any harm in +reading those papers, and I did so. But I did more than that, Kerry. I +told the story of the tragedy to Frank Linton; and he has written a book +on the trial." + +"A book! With the real names?" + +"No! The names are fictitious, and the scene is laid in a different +place. But the whole story is told in the novel." + +"Does the master know?" asked Kerry, muttering something between his +teeth. + +"He does now. Mr. Hilliston saw the book in London, and came over to +tell him, and to ask me to say no more about it." + +"What's that for, anyhow," demanded Kerry, who seemed to scent new +danger. + +"Because Mr. Larcher is here!" + +Kerry flung up his hands with a cry of astonishment. "Mr. Larcher, miss! +Who are you telling about?" + +"Oh, Mr. Claude Larcher," said Jenny, rather alarmed, for he had gripped +her arm, "the son of the deceased man. He is staying at the Manor House +with Mr. Tait." + +For a few minutes Kerry stood looking at the ground in silence. Up to +the present he had succeeded in preserving his calm, but the last piece +of news upset him altogether, and he burst into violent speech. + +"Augh! it's sorrow that is coming to this house, and the black curse +will be on the threshold. Cold will the hearth be soon, and the old +master will be driven out. Ohone! and we and time will have sent him +into the cold world. Whirra! whirra!" + +Jenny was so dumfounded by the unexpected eloquence of the old man that +she could do nothing but stare at him. He caught her eye, and seeing +that he had been indiscreet in so betraying himself, he cut short his +lamentations, wiped his eyes, and relapsed once more into the crusty, +faithful Kerry whom she knew. But he gave her a word of warning before +he took his departure. "Say nothing of this, Miss Jenny," he remarked; +"sure it's an old fool I am. Keep a silent tongue as the master and +lawyer wishes you to do, and then, please the saints, things will go the +better." + +"But, Kerry, before you go, tell me. What is Mr. Hilliston to my +father?" + +"He is your father's best friend, miss," said Kerry, with emphasis; "his +best and his worst," and with that enigmatic reply he hurried off down +the lane in the direction of the vicarage, leaving Jenny in a state of +bewilderment. + +She could understand nothing, and at that moment sorely needed some +friend with whom she could consult. Kerry gave her no satisfaction, and +spoke so indefinitely that his conversation mystified in place of +enlightening her; it was no use to make a confidant of Frank Linton, as +notwithstanding his London reputation, which she had greatly contributed +to, Jenny did not consider him sufficiently steady to be told of the +commotion raised by his novel in her immediate circle. She could, +therefore, discuss the matter with no one, and so annoyed was she by the +whole affair that she by no means could bring herself to go back to the +house while Hilliston was yet there. He would be gone, she trusted, in +another half hour or so, and pending his departure she strolled along +the lane in the hope of evading him. + +But she only escaped Scylla to fall into Charybdis, for, as she turned +the corner, Tait and Claude met her almost face to face. Jenny would +have given much to escape this awkward meeting, and intimated her wish +for solitude by passing the young men with a curt bow. The sight of +Claude, the memory of his father's death, coupled with the suspicions +she entertained, wrought her up to a pitch of excitement which she had +great difficulty in concealing. She was, therefore, greatly annoyed when +Tait took off his hat, and placed himself directly in her path. The +little man thought it was too favorable an opportunity for introduction +to be overlooked. + +"Don't go away, Miss Paynton," he said, smiling. "I wish to introduce +you to my friend Mr. Larcher. Claude, this is Miss Paynton, of whom you +have heard me speak." + +"How do you do, Miss Paynton?" said Claude, with a suave bow. "I hope +you will pardon the irregularity of this introduction." + +This remark made Jenny laugh, and set her more at ease. She was not +particular as to forms and ceremonies herself, and the idea that a young +man should apologize for such a trifle struck her as ridiculous. +Moreover, a glance assured her that Mr. Larcher was by no means a +formidable person. He was decidedly good-looking, and had pleasant blue +eyes, with a kindly look, so speech and glance broke the ice at once +between them. + +"Do you stay here long, Mr. Larcher?" she asked, pointedly ignoring her +previous conversation with Tait. + +"As long as I may," he replied, smiling. "London does not invite me at +this time of the year. I prefer the fragrant country to the dusty town." + +"He is a true lover of the fields, Miss Paynton," broke in Tait, +admiring her self-possession, "and insisted that I should come out for a +walk, so that he might lose no time in steeping himself in the sweetness +of nature. Quite idyllic, isn't it?" + +"Quite!" said Jenny lightly. "Good-by at present, Mr. Larcher! I am +going to the vicarage, and have not a moment to spare. Mr. Tait, can I +speak with you a minute?" + +Tait obeyed with alacrity, and Claude was left to muse on the fresh +charm of Jenny, and the sweetness of her voice. Her trim figure, her +exquisite neatness, and springing gait made him admire her greatly, and +when she tripped away with a smiling nod, he was so taken up in watching +her that he failed to observe the grave face with which Tait joined him. + +"As I thought," said the latter, when they resumed their walk. + +"What is up now?" + +"Oh, nothing more than usual! Hilliston has called on Paynton already. +He is there now." + +"You don't say so! I did not think he would have been so smart. However, +you have stolen a march on him. Do you intend to see him now? To wait +his coming out?" + +"Why, no," said Tait, after a moment's deliberation. "Rather let us go +home again that Hilliston may not see us. I wish to wait and see what +excuse he will make for not calling on you. You'll get a letter full of +lies to-morrow, Claude." + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII. + + A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST. + + +HILLISTON remained a considerable time with his friend, and it was not +until sunset that he left the house. He had a satisfied look on his +face, as though the interview had answered his expectations; and so +lifted up in spirit did he appear that he stepped out into the lane as +jauntily as though he were quite a young man. It was over three miles to +the railway station, and he would be obliged to walk back; but the +prospect did not annoy him in the least; on the contrary so great a load +had been removed from his mind by the late conversation that he felt fit +to walk twice the distance. Yet such unusual light-heartedness might +have recalled to his mind the Scotch superstition regarding its probable +reason. + +As he walked smartly to the end of the lane, the sun had just dropped +behind the hills, leaving a trail of red glory behind him. Against the +crimson background rose the gables and chimney of the Manor House, and +the sight recalled to Hilliston the fact that young Larcher was staying +in the mansion. He paused doubtfully, not certain whether to go in or +pass on; for in his many schemes the least slip might prove prejudicial +to their accomplishment. + +"If I call in I can say my visit here was to do so," he thought; "but it +is too late; and though Claude might believe me, the little man would +certainly be suspicious. Besides they are sure to find out from Jenny +Paynton that I have seen her father. No! I shan't go in, but to-night I +will write a letter stating that Paynton is a client whom I called to +see about business. I have made it all right there, and it will take a +cleverer man than Tait to upset my plans this time." + +His meditations were interrupted by the rattle of wheels, and he turned +to see Kerry driving a dappled pony in a small chaise. The old man +distorted his withered face into a grotesque grin of welcome, and jumped +out with extraordinary alacrity, when he came alongside Hilliston. + +"Augh! augh, sir!" said Kerry, touching his hat in military fashion. +"It's a sight for sore eyes to see ye. Miss Jenny told me you had walked +over from the station, so I just borrowed the trap of his riverence, the +vicar, to take you back." + +"That is very kind of you, Kerry," replied Hilliston, in his most genial +manner; "I am glad to accept your offer and escape the walk. You drive +and I'll sit beside you." + +Kerry did as he was told, and in a few minutes the trap containing the +pair was rattling through the street at a good pace. Shortly they left +the village behind and emerged into the open country. The road wound to +right and left, past farmhouses, under bending trees, behind hedgerows, +and occasionally passed over a stone bridge spanning a trickling brook +matted with cresses. All this time neither of them had spoken, as each +was seemingly wrapped up in his own thoughts, but as a matter of fact +they were thinking of each other. Kerry wished to speak to Hilliston, +but did not know how to begin; while Hilliston was in the same +predicament regarding Kerry. + +It was the latter who finally began the conversation, and he did so in a +way which would have startled a less brave man than the lawyer. At the +moment they were crossing a rather broad stream with a swift current, +and Kerry pulled up the pony midway between the parapets of stone which +protected the sides of the rude bridge. Rather astonished at this +stoppage, for which he could assign no reason, Hilliston roused himself +from his musings and looked inquiringly at Kerry. The man's eyes, +significant and angry, were fixed on him in anything but a friendly +manner. + +"Do you know what I'm thinking, sir?" he said, coolly flicking the +pony's back with the whip. + +"No, Kerry," replied Hilliston, with equal coolness. "Is it of anything +important?" + +"It might be to you, sir," replied Kerry dryly. "I was just thinking +whether it wouldn't be a good thing to send horse and trap and you and I +into the water. Then there would be an end to your black heart and your +black schemes." + +"That is very possible, Kerry," said Hilliston, who knew his man, "but +before going to extremities you had better make certain that you are +acting for the best. Without me your master is ruined." + +"We'll talk it over, sir," answered Kerry, and with a smart flick of his +whip sent the pony across the bridge. When they were over and were +trotting between hedgerows he resumed the conversation. "Why have ye +come here again, sir?" he asked abruptly. "We were quit of you five +years ago, and now you come to harry the master once more." + +"I come for his own good, Kerry." + +"Ah, now don't be after calling me Kerry. There's no one here, and it is +Denis Bantry I am to you, Mr. Francis Hilliston." + +The lawyer winced at the satirical emphasis placed on the name, but +judged it wise to humor the old man. Kerry, as he called himself now, +could be very obstinate and disagreeable when he chose, so knowing his +powers in this respect Hilliston wisely conducted the conversation on as +broad lines as was possible. Nevertheless, he carried the war into the +enemy's camp by blaming Kerry for not taking better care of the bundle +of papers which, through his negligence, had fallen into the hands of +Jenny. + +"And how was I to know, sir?" retorted Kerry querulously. "The papers +were safely put away in the garret, and Miss Jenny had no call to go +there." + +"Well, Kerry, you see what it has led to. The account of the tragedy is +all over London." + +"And what of that, sir? Wasn't the account of it all over Horriston +twenty-five years ago?" + +"No doubt," said Hilliston coolly; "but that is all over and done with. +It is useless to dwell on the past and its errors. But now Captain +Larcher's son is bent on finding out the truth." + +"And why shouldn't he, sir?" + +"I don't think you need ask the question, Kerry," replied the lawyer, in +so significant a tone that the old servant turned away his head. "It is +not desirable that Claude Larcher should be enlightened. We know what +took place on that night if no one else does, and for more reasons than +one it is advisable that we should keep our knowledge to ourselves." + +"Augh," said Kerry gruffly, "you don't want it known that you were in +the garden on that night, sir?" + +"I do not," answered Hilliston, with hasty emphasis. "I spoke falsely at +the trial to save Mrs. Larcher. I rather think you did so yourself, +Kerry." + +"For the master's sake--for the master's sake! As for the mistress she +brought all the trouble on our heads. I lied, sir, and you lied, but she +wasn't worth it. But is there to be trouble over it now, Mr. Hilliston?" + +"No. Not if you baffle the inquiries of those young men at the Manor +House. They will meet you and question you, and get the truth out of you +if they can. Whether they do or not all depends upon yourself." + +"You leave it to me, sir," said Kerry confidently. "I'll manage to send +them away without being a bit the wiser. And now, Mr. Hilliston, that +this is settled, I would speak to you about my sister Mona." + +Hilliston changed color, but nevertheless retained sufficient composure +to fix his eyes on the man's face with a sad smile. "What of her, +Kerry?" he asked, in a melancholy tone; "you know she is dead and gone." + +"Augh! Augh! But her grave, sir. You must tell me where it is, for I +have it in my mind to go and see it." + +"What would be the good of you doing that," said Hilliston +disapprovingly. + +"Because I was harsh with her, sir. If she did wrong, she suffered for +it, and it was wicked of me to let her go as I did. Where is her grave, +sir?" + +"In Chiswick Cemetery," said Hilliston, as the chaise stopped at the +railway station; "if you come up to London and call at my office I will +tell you where to find it." + +Kerry was profuse in his thanks, and, touching his hat gratefully, +accepted the shilling which Hilliston put into his hand; but when the +train containing Hilliston started for Eastbourne, he threw away the +money, and shook his fist after the retreating carriages. Not a word did +he say, but the frown on his face grew deeper and deeper as he got into +the trap again, and drove slowly back to Thorston. Evidently he trusted +Hilliston no more than did Tait or Jenny. + +It was now quite dark, for the daylight and afterglow had long since +vanished from the western skies, and the moon was not yet up. Only the +stars were visible here and there in the cloudy sky, and finding their +light insufficient to drive by, Kerry got down and lighted the carriage +lamp. Heaven only knows of what he was thinking as he drove along the +dusky lanes. The past unrolled itself before his eyes, and what he saw +there made him groan and heave deep sighs. But there was no use in so +indulging his memories, and thinking of his master, Kerry braced himself +up to see what could be done toward meeting the dangers which seemed to +threaten on all sides. When he delivered the trap again to the groom of +the vicar, he hit on an idea which he proceeded to carry out. + +Instead of going back at once to Rose Cottage, he borrowed a piece of +paper and a pencil from the groom, and laboriously traced a few lines by +the light of the stable lantern. Putting this missive in his pocket, he +went off in the direction of the Manor House; but leaving the public +road he skirted the low stone wall which divided it from the adjacent +fields. Kerry knew every inch of the ground, and even in the darkness +had no difficulty in guiding himself to his destination. This was a +vantage point at the end of the wall, whence he could see into a sitting +room of the house. In a few minutes Kerry was perched on this wall, +busily engaged in tying his letter to an ordinary sized stone. + +Almost immediately below him the mansion stretched in a kind of abrupt +right angle, in which was set two wide windows overlooking a bed of +flowers. These were open to the cool night air, and the blinds had been +drawn down, so that Kerry from his lofty hiding-place could see right +into the room. A tall brass lamp stood at one end, and under this sat +Claude Larcher, smoking and thinking. The glare of the lamp fell full on +his fresh-colored face and light hair, so that Kerry felt as though he +were gazing at a phantom out of that dread past. + +"He's as like his father as two peas," muttered Kerry, devouring the +picture with his eyes; "a fine boy and an honest gentleman. Augh! augh! +To think that I have nursed him on my knee when he was a bit of lad, and +now I'm here telling him to go away. But it's better that than the +other. A curse on those who brought him here and put sorrow into his +heart." + +Thus muttering, Kerry threw the stone lightly through the window. It +fell heavily on the floor within a few feet of Claude, who sprang to his +feet with an exclamation. Not waiting to see the result, Kerry hastily +tumbled off the wall, jumped the ditch, and made off in the darkness. By +a circuitous route he regained Rose Cottage, and entered into the +kitchen worn out in body and mind. He had done his duty so far as in him +lay, and mentally prayed that the result might tend to remove the +threatened danger. + +Meanwhile Claude had picked up the stone and ran to the window. He could +see nothing, for Kerry was already halfway across the fields; he could +not even guess whence the stone had been thrown. All was silent, and +though he listened intently, he could not hear the sound of retreating +footsteps. With some wonderment he untied the paper from the stone and +smoothed it out. It was badly written and badly spelled, and ran as +follows: + + "Bewar of danger, Claude Larcher, tak a frind's advise and go + quick away." + +There was no signature, and the young man was looking at it in growing +perplexity when Tait entered the room. + +"What did you shout out about?" he asked carelessly. "I heard you in the +next room." + +"You would have shouted also," replied Larcher, holding out the paper. +"This was flung into the room tied round a stone." + +"You don't say so! Who threw it?" + +"I can't say. I rushed to the window at once, but saw no sign of anyone. +What do you think of the hint therein contained?" + +Tait read the anonymous communication, pondered over it, and finally +delivered his opinion by uttering a name. "Hilliston," he said +confidently, "Hilliston." + +"Nonsense!" said Claude sharply; "why should he deal in underhand ways +of this sort. If he wanted me to go away, he could have called and urged +me to do so. But this--I don't believe Hilliston would condescend to +such trickery." + +"When a man is in a fix he will descend to anything to get himself out +of it," replied Tait, placing the paper in his pocketbook. "I'll keep +this, and, perhaps, before many days are over I'll have an opportunity +of proving to you that I speak truly. Who else wants you to go away +besides Hilliston." + +"Kerry--Denis Bantry might!" + +"I doubt whether Kerry knows that you are here. You must give matters +time to develop themselves, as the inmates of Rose Cottage can't know +all about us within twenty-four hours." + +"What between your confessions to Jenny, and Hilliston's own knowledge, +I think they'll know a good deal in one way or another." + +"They can know as much as they like," said Tait quietly, "but we know +more, and if it comes to a tug of war I think you and I can win against +Hilliston and Co. But come outside and let us examine the top of the +wall." + +"Do you think the stone was thrown from there?" asked Claude, as they +went out into the garden. + +"I fancy so from your description. Light this candle." + +The night was so still that the flame of the candle hardly wavered. Tait +gave it to Claude to hold, and easily climbed up the wall by thrusting +the toes of his boots in among the loose stones. He examined the top +carefully, and then getting the light tied it to a piece of string and +lowered it on the other side. In a few minutes he came down again with a +satisfied look. + +"As I thought," he said, blowing out the candle. "Someone has been on +that wall and thrown the stone from there. I saw the marks of feet on +the other side. The man who delivered the letter jumped the ditch and +made off across the fields." + +"You don't think it is Hilliston?" said Claude doubtfully. + +"No; but I think it is an emissary of Hilliston. Perhaps Denis Bantry." + +"Tait!" said Larcher, after a pause, "from Hilliston's visit to Paynton, +from the way in which Paynton persistently secludes himself from the +world; and from the knowledge we possess that the information for +Linton's book came out of that cottage, I have come to a conclusion." + +"What is that?" + +"I believe that Ferdinand Paynton is none other than Mark Jeringham, who +killed my father." + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII. + + PREPARING THE GROUND. + + +AWARE that Claude would hear sooner or later of his visit to Paynton, +the lawyer wrote to forestall the information, skillfully alleging a +business engagement as his excuse for the visit. "I would have called on +you," he continued, "but that it was already late when I left my client, +Mr. Paynton, and I had to return to Eastbourne in time for dinner. +However, I hope to come over again shortly, and then you must tell me +how you are getting on with your case. I am afraid you will learn +nothing at Thorston." + +"He knows better than that," said Tait, to whom the letter was shown; +"he is aware that we have cut the ground from under his feet so far as +Jenny is concerned. Moreover, I am certain that he is the author of that +anonymous letter of a few days since." + +"Do you really think he came here to ask Miss Paynton to keep silence?" +asked Claude, returning the letter to his pocket. + +"My dear fellow, I am certain of it. And he also wishes to show us that +he knows Paynton, so as to warn us against asking questions in that +quarter." + +"Indeed, I think it is useless to do so," said Larcher doubtfully; "you +know we called yesterday and were refused admittance." + +"Oh, I spoke to Mr. Linton about that," replied Tait easily; "it seems +that such is invariably the case, as this hermit will see no one." + +"Why? What can be his reason for such persistent seclusion?" + +"I can't say, unless your surmise is correct, and he is Jeringham." + +"I am sure he is," said Claude emphatically. "Why was the bundle of +newspapers containing an account of the murder found in his house? What +is Denis Bantry doing there if Paynton is not Jeringham?" + +"The shoe is on the other foot," remarked Tait dryly. "What is Denis +Bantry doing there if Paynton is Jeringham? You forget, Claude, that we +suspect Jeringham as the criminal. If this were so, or if Paynton were +Jeringham, I hardly think your father's devoted servant would be at his +beck and call, unless," added Tait, as an after thought, "Denis Bantry +is also implicated, as we imagine." + +"I can't understand it," cried Claude, catching up his hat; "in place of +growing clearer, the matter seems to become more involved. How do you +intend to proceed? It seems to me that we are at a dead stop." + +"By no means, my dear fellow. There is Kerry, alias Denis Bantry, to be +examined. We must learn the truth from him." + +"He won't tell it! Particularly if our suspicions are correct." + +"Perhaps not, but I have provided against that failure. You must appeal +to him as the son of his old master, while I am absent." + +"Absent! Where are you going?" + +"Can't you guess? To Horriston, of course, in order to pick up what +information I can. There are sure to be people still alive who remember +your father and mother; who recollect the trial, and are still +acquainted with Mr. Hilliston. I expect to learn a good deal about that +gentleman there; and perhaps something about Jeringham and his +disappearance." + +"Humph! I doubt if you will be successful," replied Claude gloomily; +"however, there is no harm in trying. Where are we going now?" + +"I told you before we set out. To call on the vicar. As we can't see +Jenny at her father's house we must meet her in another person's. She is +like a daughter to Mrs. Linton, and is constantly at the vicarage." + +"And no doubt young Linton loves her." + +"I'm sure he does. Have you any objection?" demanded Tait slyly. + +"None! None!" said Claude hastily. "I have only met her for a few +minutes, you know. But she is a remarkably pretty girl, and from what +you say seems to be clever. Too good by half for that idiot." + +"Idiot! John Parver, novelist, the lion of the season, an idiot? You +forget he wrote the book of the year." + +"So he says," responded Larcher dryly. "But for my part, I believe Jenny +Paynton has more to do with it than he. I have no doubt she wrote it." + +Further conversation was put an end to for the time being by their +arrival at the vicarage. Mr. Linton, a stiff old gentleman with a severe +face, received them very kindly, and unbent so far as in him lay. He had +been acquainted with Tait for many years, and it was during a visit to +him that the little man had seen and purchased Thorston Manor. Knowing +him to be wealthy, and being well disposed toward him for his own sake, +Mr. Linton was anxious to make the Lord of the Manor at home in his +house. Vicars cannot afford to neglect opulent parishioners. + +"I hope, Mr. Tait, that you will shortly take up your abode altogether +at the Manor," said he pompously. "I am not in favor of an absentee +landlord." + +"Oh, you'll see a good deal of me, Mr. Linton, I assure you. I am too +much in love with the beauties of the place to stay long away. Moreover, +I am not a roamer like my friend Larcher here." + +"It is necessary with me," said Claude, smiling; "I assure you, sir, I +am not the wandering vagabond Tait would make me out to be." + +"It is proper to see the world," said the vicar, with heavy playfulness, +"and when you have made your fortune in far countries, Mr. Larcher, you +may settle down in this favored spot." + +"I could wish for nothing better, Mr. Linton. But the time is yet far +off for that." + +"My son is also fond of traveling," continued Mr. Linton. "Now that he +is making a good income he tells me that it is his intention to go to +Italy." + +"You are proud of your son, Mr. Linton," said Tait genially. + +"Without doubt! Without doubt! The book he wrote is clever, although I +do not care for sensational writing myself." + +"It pays. The taste of the age is in the direction of sensationalism." + +"Certainly, certainly. And I suppose it is only natural that Francis +should write some frivolity. He was never a deep scholar. What does +astonish me," added the vicar, raising his eyebrows, "is that a student +like Mr. Paynton should desire to read the book." + +Tait and Claude glanced at one another with the same thought in their +minds respecting this information. Informed by Hilliston of the use made +by Linton of the Larcher affair, Paynton was anxious to see in what +light the case had been placed. This curiosity argued that the recluse +had been one of the actors in the tragedy; if so, he could only be +Jeringham, since Captain Larcher was dead, and they knew both Denis +Bantry and Francis Hilliston. The vicar, worthy man, was quite ignorant +of the effect produced by this announcement; nor was he undeceived by +the artful reply of Tait. + +"Naturally Mr. Paynton wants to read the book," said the latter +diplomatically. "If I mistake not, he has a great liking for Frank." + +"Indeed, yes," responded Mr. Linton thankfully. "He taught Francis Latin +along with Jenny. He would have made a scholar of him. I am indeed sorry +that my son failed to profit by his association with so brilliant a +student. He might have written a better book." + +Clearly the vicar was by no means impressed with the sensationalism of +"A Whim of Fate," and would rather his son had written an honest +pamphlet or a grave tragedy than have produced so meretricious a piece +of three-volume frivolity. However, he had no time to talk further on +this matter, for as he ended his speech the subject of it entered the +room with Jenny and Mrs. Linton. The former started and flushed as she +saw Claude, and remembered his romantic history and their former +meeting. + +"My wife, Mr. Larcher. You know Mr. Tait of course, my dear. Miss +Paynton, Mr. Larcher, and my son." + +"I have already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Frank Linton in town," +said Claude, holding out his hand. The young author took it willingly +enough, and then the company resolved itself into two groups; the vicar +and his wife conversing with Tait, while Claude, seconded by Frank, made +himself agreeable to Jenny. Neither the lady nor the author were pleased +with this arrangement, as the former felt uneasy when she remembered her +father's position, while the latter felt jealous of Claude's superior +good looks. Frank Linton was, of course, ignorant that he was in the +company of the son of the Horriston victim; he did not even know the +names of the people or that of the place, and had simply written the +story on the meager information afforded by Jenny. He could not, +therefore, understand the interest which those two displayed in one +another, and so grew jealous on seeing it. + +It would be useless to report this conversation, which in the main +consisted of frivolities. Warned by her father, Jenny was on her guard, +and carefully avoided any allusion to the Larcher affair. On his part, +not knowing the reticence Jenny had practised with regard to Linton, +Claude tried to lead the conversation into a grove likely to deal with +the novel and case. At one point he did this so clumsily that Jenny +spoke outright on the subject. + +"Let us talk no more of that, Mr. Larcher," she said quietly. "I told +Mr. Tait all I knew the other day." + +"I have to thank you----" began Claude, when she cut him short, and +turned the conversation into another channel. The young man was +disappointed in this, but nevertheless fell in with her humor, and when, +following Tait's example, he arose to go, he was quite charmed with this +country girl. + +"I hope you will come soon again," said the vicar hospitably, as he +shook hands. "We must have a party shortly. Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. +Hilliston, have promised to come and stay the night during next week." + +"Another move, and a foolish one," thought Tait, but said aloud: "We +will be charmed, Mr. Linton, the more so as Mr. Hilliston is my friend's +guardian--or rather was." + +Jenny looked startled at this, and her rich color faded when she said +good-by to Claude. The mystery of the affair was beginning to worry her, +and she could by no means understand the relation of Hilliston to +Larcher; Hilliston, who was the guardian and friend; Hilliston who, +judging from the veto put on her speaking, was inimical to Claude. +Untroubled by their conversation Claude held but one idea when he left +the house with Tait. + +"I'm afraid I am in love," said he, looking at his friend. + +"What! at first sight? Impossible!" + +"Shakspere did not think so, or he would not have written 'Romeo and +Juliet.' Yes, I believe I am in love. Jenny is as fresh and fair, and +pure and sweet as a mountain daisy." + +"You had better tell Linton so," said Tait dryly, whereat Larcher +laughed. He was too confident in his own powers to be timorous of +rivalry with the celebrated individual. + +"There is no need to tell him," he said lightly; "the poor man was eaten +up with jealousy when I spoke to Miss Paynton. By the way, did you see +that she changed color when you mentioned that Hilliston had been my +guardian?" + +"It was natural that she should. Hilliston is a suspicious person in her +eyes, and this discovery will perplex her still more regarding his +relations with you. Jenny is a very clever young woman, but I wonder if +she is clever enough to put this and that together." + +"To arrive at what conclusion?" + +"At the most logical conclusion. That her father is Jeringham, whom she +suspects of the crime." + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX. + + KERRY. + + +HAVING, as he considered, prepared the ground by acquainting Claude with +the notabilities of the neighborhood, Tait next proceeded to secure an +interview with Kerry. This was by no means an easy matter, as, either by +accident or design, Kerry eluded all the young men's attempts to +interview him. Hitherto he had been accustomed to fish daily in the Lax, +but now, doubtless by direction of his master, he forsook his customary +sport for some considerable time. His absence speedily roused Tait's +suspicions. + +"Hilliston has succeeded well," said he, after one of these futile +attempts to see the old servant. "He has put Jeringham on his guard." + +"Paynton, you mean," observed Claude, looking up from his plate. They +were at breakfast when this conversation took place. + +"I thought you had determined in your own mind that he was Jeringham." + +"No," said Claude, coloring a little; "I have come round to your opinion +in the matter. If Paynton were Jeringham, I don't think Denis Bantry +would be in his service." + +"Ah!" remarked Tait sarcastically, "is that the result of reflection or +of love?" + +"Of love? I don't understand you." + +"Yes, you do, Claude. You are in love with Jenny. The last week has only +deepened your first impressions. I believe she likes you also, and so I +foresee a marriage which will rob me of my friend." + +"I am not so certain of that as you are," said Larcher, after a pause. +"Miss Paynton has given me no hint of her feelings, and our acquaintance +is yet young. Even if I did design to make her my wife, I would have to +gain her consent, and that of her father. Judging from Paynton's present +attitude that consent would most probably be refused." + +Tait did not immediately reply, but stared out of the window with an +absent look in his eyes. The remark changed the current of his ideas. + +"I wonder who Paynton can be?" he said at length, with some hesitation. +"That he is connected with the case I am certain from the way in which +he has profited by the warning of Hilliston. Like yourself, I have my +doubts regarding his identity with Jeringham, because of Denis Bantry. +Who is he? I must go to Horriston to-morrow and find out." + +"And what am I to do in the meantime?" + +"Hunt out Kerry and learn the truth," said Tait coolly. "I think, after +all, it will be best for you to see him alone. I am a stranger, and he +won't speak before me; but to you, the son of his old master, he may +open his heart. Once he does that you may learn the truth." + +"I doubt it." + +"Well, there is a chance. Whatever tie binds Denis to Paynton, you must +not forget that he is Irish. The Irish are an impulsive and excitable +race, so it is just possible that his feelings may carry him away in +your presence, and he may tell you all we wish to know." + +"Do you think he can solve the mystery?" + +"Yes. He was in the house when Jeringham came home with your mother; he +picked up the garnet pin, and, it may be, can tell us to whom it +belongs. It may be the property of Hilliston, as is stated in the novel; +on the other hand it may belong to your father or to Jeringham. Of one +point I am sure, the person who owned the pin killed your father. Kerry, +or rather Denis Bantry, knows the owner, and consequently the murderer." + +"If so, why did he not denounce him?" + +"There you puzzle me," said Tait, rising to his feet; "that is one of +the many mysteries of this case. Only Denis can explain, and he may do +so to you. I shall stay at home this morning, and prepare for my journey +to Horriston; but you had better take your fishing rod and go to your +post." + +The post alluded to was on the banks of the Lax, where for the past week +the young men had patiently waited for the appearance of Denis. On this +morning Claude found himself alone for the first time; and sat down with +a disconsolate air, for he had little hope that Denis would make his +appearance. In this surmise he was wrong, for scarcely had he been +seated half an hour when the Irishman came slowly along on the opposite +bank of the river. + +He was a little old man, gray as a badger, with stooped shoulders, and a +cross-looking face. Without vouchsafing a look in Claude's direction, he +prepared his fishing tackle and began industriously to whip the stream. +Hardly knowing how to break the ice, Larcher silently continued his +sport, and the two, divided by the water, stood like statues on opposite +banks. + +After a time Denis, who had been cunningly taking stock of Claude, and +wondering why his letter had not produced the effect intended, moved +down to where the stream narrowed itself between large stones. +Determined to invent some excuse for speaking, Larcher followed after a +time, and stepped out on to a bowlder, apparently to throw his line into +a likely looking pool. Being within reach, he flung his line, and the +next moment it was entangled in that of Kerry's. + +"I'm sorry! Quite an accident," said Claude, noting the wrath on Kerry's +face. "Let me disentangle it." + +He jumped into the brown water and, before Kerry could make any +objection, was across on the other side, gripping the lines. Without a +word the Irishman let him separate the two lines, and then busied +himself with fixing a fly. Nettled at this determined silence Claude +spoke. + +"I wish to speak with you," he said, tapping the other on the shoulder. + +"Is it to me ye speak?" replied Kerry, with an admirable look of +surprise; "and what has the like of you, sir, to say to me?" + +"A great deal. Do you know who I am?" + +"Sure, an' I do, sir. The friend of Mr. Tait, you are no less." + +"But my name. Do you know it?" + +"Bad luck to this stream, there's never a fish in it," grumbled Kerry, +with a convenient attack of deafness. + +Claude was in nowise angered. + +"That is very clever, Kerry," he said; "but----" + +"An' how do you know my name is Kerry?" + +"Are you surprised that I should know it?" + +"I am that," replied Kerry sharply. "I never set eyes on you before." + +"Oh, yes, you did--twenty-five years ago." + +"Begorra, that's a lie, anyhow!" muttered Kerry, under his breath, with +an uneasy wriggle. + +"It is not a lie, and you know it, my man," said Larcher firmly; "it is +no use your pretending ignorance. I know who you are." + +"Devil a doubt of it! Kerry, you called me." + +"Yes! Because you are known by that name here. But at Horriston----" + +Claude stopped. He saw the hands of the old man grip the rod so tight +that the knuckles whitened. The name had produced the effect he +intended. So, almost without a pause, he continued, and aimed another +blow at Kerry's imperturbability. "At Horriston," he resumed, "you were +known as Denis Bantry." + +"Was I, now?" said Kerry, prepared for the attack. "Augh, to think of +it! And where might Horriston be, sir?" + +"You ought to know that, Denis." + +"Your honor will be after giving me the name of a friend of yours." + +"Quite right," rejoined Claude, seizing the opportunity. "You were--nay, +you are--a friend of mine. I am the little lad you carried in your +arms--to whom you told stories, and sang songs. Children forget a great +deal, but I have not forgotten you, Denis." + +In dogged silence the old man turned his head away, intently bent on his +sport, but suddenly he raised the cuff of his coat and wiped away a +betraying tear. Seeing that he had touched the man's sympathy, Claude +followed up his advantage. + +"You are not going to deny me, Denis, are you?" he said entreatingly. "I +am down here on an errand which you must guess. If Hilliston----" + +"The curse of Cromwell on him!" said Kerry, under his breath. + +"If Hilliston told you to keep silent," said Claude, affecting to take +no notice of the interjection, which confirmed his suspicions, "I, the +son of your dead master, want you to speak. I wish to find out who +killed my father. I wish to punish him, for you know his name." + +Kerry turned furiously on the young man, but it seemed to Claude that +his anger was feigned to hide a deeper emotion. + +"It is a dirty informer you'd have me be," he cried, with a stamp of his +foot, "to betray him whose bread I eat. I'll tell you nothing, for it's +that much I know." + +"Denis----" + +"I'm not Denis! It's Kerry I am. I know nothing of Horriston, or of you, +sir. Go away with ye, young gentleman, and don't be after disgracing an +old servant to play the spy and cheat." + +Then, still breathing fury, he rushed away, but paused some distance off +to raise his hands to the sky with an appealing gesture. The impulsive +Irish nature had broken through diplomatic reserve, and, fearful of +saying too much, Kerry saved himself by flight. Claude guessed this and +forebore to follow him. + +"I have broken the ice at all events," he said to himself, when +returning to the Manor to tell Tait. "The next time I may be fortunate +enough to force the truth out of him. He knows it, I am certain. He +hates Hilliston and loves me. I can easily guess with whom he +sympathizes, in spite of his master. He is Denis, sure enough, but who +is Paynton?" + +It was impossible to say. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX. + + MRS. BEZEL AGAIN. + + +ON returning home Claude found that Tait, contrary to his expressed +intention, had gone out. Dormer, who was packing a portmanteau for the +Horriston journey, could not inform Larcher when his master would be +back, but ventured an opinion that he would certainly return to +luncheon. Meanwhile, he handed to Claude some letters which had just +arrived, and with these the young man managed to pass a fairly +uncomfortable hour. Uncomfortable, because one of the letters was from +Mrs. Bezel, and proved of so puzzling a character that Larcher was in a +fever of impatience to discuss it with Tait. + +The little man returned to luncheon, as was surmised by Dormer, and was +met in the hall by Claude with the open letter of Mrs. Bezel in his +hand. + +"My dear fellow, why did you go out?" said Larcher complainingly. "I +have so much to tell you. I have seen Kerry, and now here is a letter +from Mrs. Bezel." + +"What! is she on the stage again?" said Tait eagerly. "Let me see the +letter." + +"Not yet," replied Claude, putting it promptly behind his back. "You +must first tell me why you left the house, when you ought to be packing +up for Horriston." + +Tait shrugged his shoulders, bowed to the inevitable, and went into the +dining room. Here he sat at the table and began to carve some cold beef, +thereby throwing Claude into a rage. + +"You cold-blooded little monster," he cried, tapping on the table, "will +you satisfy my curiosity?" + +"Why should I?" said Tait, grinning. "You won't satisfy mine." + +"Then read the letter," retorted Claude, throwing it across the table. +To his surprise Tait placed it on one side. + +"Not yet!" he said, resuming his carving. "We must have a talk first. +Have some beef." + +"I don't want beef, but information." + +"You shall have both," said Tait calmly. "Do you prefer beer or claret?" + +"Beer!" replied Larcher resignedly, falling in with the tricksey humor +of his friend. Tait was a man with whom it was impossible to quarrel. + +"Dormer, fill Mr. Larcher's glass; put the claret jug beside me, and +leave the room. We will wait on ourselves." + +As stolid as a wooden image Dormer obeyed these instructions, and +wheeled out of the room. Tait ate a few mouthfuls of beef, drank a glass +of claret, and prepared to talk. His first remark was a bombshell. + +"I have seen Paynton," said he slowly. + +"The deuce you have!" cried Claude, in surprise; "and how did you manage +to take his castle by storm?" + +"Easily enough, by the help of a lie and a little strategy. I went out +to see if you were at your post, and caught sight of Kerry crossing the +fields. As I knew Jenny would be at the Lintons',--for she goes there to +see the old lady every morning,--I guessed that Rose Cottage would be +undefended; so back I ran to the house, picked up a book which I had +promised to lend the young lady, and went to pay my visit." + +"How did you get inside the gate? It is generally locked." + +"It wasn't on this occasion," replied Tait complacently. "I opened it +and walked in, to find old Paynton strolling in the garden. Catching +sight of me, he turned back to re-enter the house, but, luckily, I was +between him and the door, so we met face to face." + +"What kind of a man is he to look at?" + +"Oh, a fine-looking old chap, with white hair and beard, a skullcap, and +a dressing gown. Quite the get up of a necromancer." + +"Did he speak to you," asked Claude, having considered this description. + +"He asked me politely what my business was; whereupon I presented the +book, and mentioned that it was for his daughter. He replied that she +was at the Lintons', and would be back soon, when he would give her the +book himself. Then he asked me to excuse him, and bowed me out of the +gate. But," added Tait, with emphasis, "not before I had mentioned that +Mr. Claude Larcher was staying with me." + +"Did my name produce any effect?" + +"Rather! Paynton changed color, and mumbled something unintelligible. +Then he turned his back and walked quickly into the house, leaving me to +close the gate myself. Depend upon it, he knows something, Claude." + +"But his name isn't mentioned in connection with the case." + +"Of course not. Paynton is a feigned one. And, as I have said before, +there are, no doubt, actors in the tragedy of whom we know nothing." + +"There is one of that sort mentioned here," said Larcher, picking up +Mrs. Bezel's letter. "Read that, Tait, and see what you make of it." + +It proved to be a short note, hastily written, and ran as follows: + + "MY DEAR CLAUDE: + "If you are still in doubt as to who murdered your father, ask + Mr. Hilliston to tell you about Louisa Sinclair, who lived at + Horriston twenty-five years ago. She knows. + "Your affectionate mother, + "MARGARET BEZEL." + +"Louisa Sinclair," repeated Tait slowly, having mastered the contents of +this letter. "No, I never heard of her. It is strange that Hilliston has +never mentioned her name." + +"No doubt he had good reasons for not doing so," said Claude bitterly. +"You need not look so astonished, Tait. I have long ago come round to +your opinion of my old guardian. His intimacy with Paynton and the +effect of his visit on Kerry would convince me--not to speak of that +'anonymous letter.'" + +"Ah! Kerry refused to speak." + +"He would not say a word, and, moreover, stated that he was not Denis +Bantry; that he had never heard of Horriston. In fact, he acted his part +excellently well till the last. Then he broke down, and, afraid of +letting the cat out of the bag, he ran away." + +"Exactly what his master did," said Tait thoughtfully. "Depend upon it, +Claude, we will learn the truth from one of those two." + +"If you think so, why go to Horriston?" + +"Because I want to learn the real name of Paynton, and, moreover, here +is an additional reason. I must find out Louisa Sinclair." + +"There is no mention of her in the case." + +"Quite true. And there is no mention of Paynton; but for all that he +knows about it. Oh, you may be sure there are circumstances to be +discovered at Horriston which never came to light at the trial." + +"My mother is anxious for the mystery to be cleared up." + +"So I see, and I am glad of it," said Tait, with an affectation of +carelessness. "I thought she was too ill to take an interest in the +matter." + +"Am I to ask Hilliston about this woman?" said Claude, looking up in +some doubt. + +"No," replied his friend, after a few moments' deliberation. "Our +success in this depends on keeping Hilliston in the dark concerning our +movements. If we tell him too much he may thwart us, as he has done +already in this Paynton business. Say nothing about Louisa Sinclair, or +about my visit to Horriston. Tell him I have gone to town, and let him +figure out the reason for himself. By the way, when do you see him?" + +"On Friday evening. Both he and his wife are coming to dine, and stop +all night at the vicarage. You may be sure Hilliston will put me through +a thorough cross-examination regarding your absence." + +"Refer him to Mr. Linton," said Tait coolly. "I am writing to that +gentleman, telling him I am unexpectedly called to town on particular +business. What that business is Hilliston will be anxious to know. I +don't think he'll enjoy his evening at all. A guilty conscience mars all +pleasure." + +"When do you leave?" + +"By the 4.20 train this afternoon. I'll write you about my discoveries +as soon as I find out anything worth scribbling about." + +"You'll find nothing," said Claude dolefully; "after five-and-twenty +years." + +"I'll find out who Louisa Sinclair is, and then astonish Hilliston with +the extent of my information. Regarding Paynton, I am not so certain. +That discovery rests between you and Denis Bantry." + +"I'll do my best, but I am doubtful," replied Claude, and so the +conversation terminated for the time being. It left a lasting impression +on the two who took part in it. + +Tait duly took his departure with Dormer, leaving Claude in possession +of the house. As he leaned out of the window of the smoking carriage, he +said a last word to his friend: + +"Don't tell Hilliston about my going to Horriston," he said +significantly; "but if you get a chance inform his wife of the fact." + +"Why?" + +"I'll tell you that when I come back," said Tait, as the train moved +slowly off. "Give her the information, and observe the effect; it will +astonish you." + +But Tait counted without his host; he was ignorant of Mrs. Hilliston's +powers of self-control. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI. + + AN EVENING AT THE VICARAGE. + + +THE Vicar of Thorston was a severe man, a trifle narrow in his views, +and imperious of temper; but he was also fond of good cheer and +hospitality--virtues which cover a multitude of sins. Those who sat at +his table were sure of a capital dinner and an excellent glass of wine; +for his cook and cellar were both undeniable. Report said that Mr. +Linton was afraid of his cook, for that good lady had a hot temper, and +feared no man. Many were the battles between her and the vicar, but +being a perfect mistress of the culinary art, she invariably came off +victor. She had her faults, but she was a jewel of a cook, and was +valued accordingly. + +On this special evening the vicar had assembled ten people, including +himself, round his hospitable board. Mr. and Mrs. Hilliston were the +principal guests, and Claude was also honored with special attention. An +old couple named Densham, garrulous and pleasant, had likewise been +invited; and they, with their daughter and Jenny Paynton, completed the +party. To Claude was assigned Miss Paynton, while to Frank Linton was +given the Densham damsel, an arrangement which was anything but pleasing +to that jealous young man, or indeed to Miss Densham, who thought the +famous author a grumpy creature. He was too preoccupied to please her +taste. + +Claude thought he had never seen Mrs. Hilliston to such disadvantage. +She appeared ill at ease, and was haggard and pale of face, looking +every year of her age. Even the rich dress and splendid jewels she wore +failed to conceal the ravages of time; and in the neighborhood of the +fresh beauty of the two girls she seemed an old woman. She felt this +herself, for Claude noted that she threw an envious glance at the +blooming faces of her rivals, and surveyed her wan looks in the nearest +glass with a sigh. To her the party was purgatory. + +Nor did the lawyer appear to enjoy himself. He was moody and fretful, +though every now and then he forced himself to be merry, but his laugh +was hollow, and the careworn expression of his face belied his untimely +mirth. Sometimes he stole a furtive look at Claude, and seemed to brood +over the young man's changed manner; for, do what he could, Larcher, +deeming his old friend an enemy, could not behave with his former +cordiality. He was ill-suited for a diplomat. + +The dinner passed off with moderate success. Frank was complimented on +his book, and the prosy couple had to be told the main points of the +story. This brief recital made at least three people uncomfortable; for +Claude raised his eyes to encounter an angry glance from Hilliston, and +a deprecating one from Jenny. They were relieved when the vicar, who by +no means approved of such attention being bestowed on a trashy novel, +even though his son was the author, turned the conversation into another +channel. Mr. Linton liked to lead the conversation at his own table. + +"I wish to speak to you particularly, Claude," whispered Mrs. Hilliston, +as he held the door open for the ladies to retire; "do not be long over +your wine." + +"I will come as soon as I can," he replied, and returned to his seat, +wondering what she could have to say to him. He was not left long in +doubt, for Mr. Hilliston entered into conversation as soon as the +glasses were filled and the cigars lighted. This was the moment for +which he had longed for the whole evening. + +"Why isn't your friend Tait here to-night?" he asked, in a casual tone, +feigning a lightness he did not feel. + +"Did not Mr. Linton tell you?" replied Claude, prepared for this query. +"He had to go to town on business." + +"On business," murmured Hilliston uneasily; "anything to do with this +case you have taken up?" + +"I can't say. Tait did not particularly state his errand." + +The lawyer sipped his wine, looked thoughtfully at the end of the cigar, +and pondered for a few minutes. He wished to speak of Claude's changed +behavior toward himself, yet did not know how to begin. At length he +bluntly blurted out a question, straightforward and to the point. This +was undiplomatic, but at times human nature is too strong for training. + +"We are not such good friends as of yore, Claude. How is that?" + +"I think you can guess the reason," replied Larcher, not ill pleased to +fight out the point, for he hated being forced into doubtful civility. +"It is this case which has come between us. I do not think you are +giving me what help you ought to, Mr. Hilliston." + +"I can give you no help," said the lawyer, drawing his heavy brows +together. "You know as much as I do. No doubt your meddlesome friend +knows more." + +"It is not improbable. But you can prove your honesty in the matter by +doing me a favor." + +"My honesty, sir, has never been called into question yet," said +Hilliston, injudiciously losing his temper, always a prelude to defeat. +"And I have no call to defend myself to one to whom I have been a +father. Still I am willing to grant you what you wish, in reason." + +"Very good! Then introduce me to Mr. Paynton." + +"I'm afraid that is out of my power," replied Hilliston, shaking his +head. "You know the man's ways, I think. He is a hermit, a misanthrope, +and does not care for company. Why do you wish to know him?" + +"For various reasons," answered Larcher, coloring with some +embarrassment. He was by no means willing to take Mr. Hilliston into his +confidence. + +His old guardian looked at him shrewdly, and, remembering certain small +circumstances connected with Jenny, guessed, with the skill of an +experienced character reader, how the land lay. At once he formed a +resolution to further Claude's interests in the matter, hoping, and not +unjustly, that should the lad be taken in the toils of love, he might +stop further investigation of the case, an end which Hilliston much +desired to gain. + +"Oh!" said he not unkindly, "sits the wind in that quarter? Well, I will +aid you. In a few days I will try and induce Mr. Paynton to see you, and +then perhaps you may succeed." + +"Succeed in what?" demanded Claude sharply, hardly relishing this +perspicuity. + +"Why, in this love-suit of yours. Aye, aye, Claude, I can see what you +aim at, old as I am. Well, she is a pretty girl, clever and worthy. I +know of no woman who would make you a better wife. You have my best +wishes for your success." + +"And you will introduce me to her father?" + +"I'll try to, but I won't promise confidently. Paynton is a strange +creature and may refuse to see you. By the way," added Hilliston, as +though struck with a sudden thought, "what was my wife saying to you at +the door?" + +"She was requesting me to speak to her in the drawing room. There is +nothing wrong, I hope? She does not look well." + +"Oh, nothing wrong, nothing wrong!" replied Hilliston easily, rising to +his feet as the vicar moved toward the door. "She is fond of you, my +dear boy, and is anxious about the case." + +"Anxious about the case," thought Larcher, as he followed his host into +the drawing room; "that is strange. She can have no interest in it. H'm! +I'll try the effect of Tait's destination on her. He said I would be +astonished at the result. I am beginning to be so already." + +Perhaps Jenny had overheard the whisper in the dining room, and was +sufficiently taken with Larcher to be jealous of his attentions to Mrs. +Hilliston, old though she deemed her, for, before he could cross over to +where the lawyer's wife was seated, Jenny beckoned to him with her +imperious finger. He could do nothing but obey, despite the frown which +darkened Mrs. Hilliston's face, as she saw, and, with womanly instinct, +guessed the maneuver. + +"Come and sit down here," whispered Jenny, under cover of the music, for +Miss Densham was at the piano. "I have not seen you for several days." + +"That is not my fault," said Claude, delighted at the interest thus +displayed; "you stay so much indoors. I have been looking for you +everywhere." + +"Have you, indeed, Mr. Larcher?" said Jenny, with feigned surprise. "And +why, may I ask?" + +"Oh, for no particular purpose, unless, indeed, it was to ask you for +further information concerning the novel." + +"Hush. Not a word of that. I can't speak of it to you. I know who you +are, Mr. Larcher, but I am ignorant of the tragedy save what I told to +Frank, and later on to Mr. Tait." + +"But you can guess----" + +"I can guess nothing," interrupted the girl imperiously. "If you and I +are to remain friends you must cease talking on that subject." + +"I'll do anything to remain friends with you, Miss Paynton," was the +significant reply. + +"Then talk of anything save that terrible case. Oh, how I wish I had +left it alone!" + +"I'm glad you did not," said Claude bluntly. "If it had not been for +that book----" + +Before he could finish the sentence Jenny shot an indignant look at him, +and deliberately rising from her seat crossed the room to where Frank +Linton was frowning and tugging at his mustache. Claude was vexed at his +folly in thus drawing down her anger on him, but accepted his beating +like a man, and passed over to where Mrs. Hilliston waited with an +expectant face. She remarked on his tardy coming with some bitterness. + +"I see you prefer a younger face to mine," she said, drawing herself up. +"Time was when I had no rival to fear." + +"Dear Mrs. Hilliston, I could not disobey a lady. Besides--besides----" + +"Besides you are in love with her. Oh, I can see that! Well, she is a +pretty girl. So you intend to marry her?" + +"It is early yet to talk of marriage. I don't even know if she likes +me." + +Mrs. Hilliston laughed, and looked at him smilingly. "Then you must be +very ignorant of the way of women, my dear," she said meaningly. "A word +in your ear, Claude. That girl loves you." + +"In two weeks! Impossible!" + +"I've known love to grow in two days," replied Mrs. Hilliston dryly. +"Oh, yes, she loves you, and you love her, so you can marry as soon as +you choose." + +"First I must get Mr. Paynton's consent." + +"I should not think that would be difficult," said the lady, looking at +his eager face. "You are young, not ill-looking, not badly off, and so I +should not think Mr. Paynton would desire anything better for his +daughter. So much for the first obstacle, and the second?" + +"I must solve the mystery of my father's death." + +Mrs. Hilliston's manner changed on the instant, and from being gay she +became severe and anxious-looking. Indeed, Claude thought that she paled +under her rouge; but this might have been fancy. + +"It is about that I wish to speak to you," she said hurriedly. "I want +you to stop investigating this case. You will learn nothing; it would be +of no use to anyone if you did solve the mystery. Stop troubling +yourself with slander, Claude." + +"Why?" he asked, astonished at her earnest tone. + +"Because your conduct vexes my husband. He has been a father to you in +the place of the one you lost, so you ought to consider him a little. +Pray leave that mystery unsolved." + +"If I would, Tait would not. He is now even more eager than I to find +out the truth." + +"Horrid little man!" said the lady viciously. "Where is he now?" + +The time had now come to try the effect of Tait's destination, and +fixing his eyes on Mrs. Hilliston as she slowly fanned herself, Claude +uttered the fatal words. + +"He is at Horriston." + +The fan stopped, Mrs. Hilliston paled, but, preserving her self-control +with a strong effort, replied quietly: + +"At Horriston. And why?" + +"To find out a person not mentioned in the case." + +"Man or woman?" asked Mrs. Hilliston in a low voice. + +"Woman." + +She said no more, but turned away her head to reply to her husband, who +came up opportunely. He also had heard the last few words of the +conversation, and, ignoring the presence of Claude, husband and wife +looked at one another with pale faces. + +The shot had struck home, and Larcher saw that it had. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII. + + THE DISCOVERIES OF SPENSER TAIT. + + +HORRISTON might fitly be compared to Jonah's gourd; it sprang up in a +night, so to speak, and withered in the space of a day. In the earlier +part of the Victorian era a celebrated doctor recommended its mineral +springs, and invalids flocked to be cured at this new pool of Bethesda. +Whether the cures were not genuine, or insufficiently rapid to please +the sick folk, it is hard to say, but after fifteen or twenty years of +prosperity the crowd of fashionable valetudinarians ceased to occupy the +commodious lodging houses and hotels in Horriston. Other places sprang +up with greater attractions and more certain cures, so the erstwhile +fashionable town relapsed into its provincial dullness. No one lived +there but a few retired army men, and no one came save a stray neurotic +person in search of absolute quiet. Few failed to get that at Horriston, +which was now as sleepy a place as could be found in all England. Even +Thorston was more in touch with the nineteenth century than this +deserted town. + +As Tait drove through the streets on his way to the principal hotel, he +could not help noticing the dreary look of the chief thoroughfare. Many +of the shops were closed, some were unoccupied, and those still open +displayed wares grimy and flyblown. The shopkeepers came to their doors +in a dazed fashion to look at the new visitor in the single fly which +plied between station and hotel, thereby showing that the event was one +of rare occurrence. There were no vehicles in the street itself save a +lumbering cart containing market produce, and the doctor's trap which +stood at the doctor's door. A few people sauntered along the pavement in +a listless fashion, and the whole aspect of the place was one of decay +and desertion. But for the presence of shopkeepers and pedestrians, few +though they were, Tait could almost have imagined himself in some +deserted mining township on the Californian coast. + +The principal hotel faced one side of a melancholy square, and was +called "The Royal Victoria," out of compliment to the reigning monarch. +It was a large barrack, with staring windows, and a flight of white +steps leading up to a deserted hall. No busy waiters, no genial landlord +or buxom barmaid, not even the sound of cheerful voices. Cats slept on +the steps and fowls clucked in the square, while a melancholy waiter, +peering out of the window, put the finishing touch to the lamentable +dreariness of the scene. The sign "Royal Victoria" should have been +removed out of very shame, and the word "Ichabod" written up in its +place. The landlord was lacking in humor to let things remain as they +were. + +However, Tait, being hungry and dusty and tired, consoled himself with +the reflection that it was at all events an hotel, and speedily found +himself the sole occupant of the dining room, attended to by the +melancholy waiter. The viands provided were by no means bad, and the +wine was undeniably good; and small wonder, seeing it had been in the +cellars for a quarter of a century for want of someone to drink it. This +fact was confided to Tait by his sad Ganymede. + +"We used to see a sight of company here," said this elderly person when +he appeared with the claret, "but, bless you, it's like Babylon the +fallen now, sir. You're the first gentleman as I have seen here for a +week." + +"Shouldn't think it would pay to keep the hotel open." + +"It don't, sir," replied the waiter with conviction, "but master is well +off--made his money in the days when Horriston was Horriston, and keeps +this place as a sort of hobby. We have a club here in the evenings, sir, +and that makes things a bit lively." + +"Have you been here long?" asked Tait, noticing how gray and wrinkled +was this despondent servitor. + +"Over thirty years, sir," responded Ganymede, with a sigh as though the +memory was too much for him; "man and boy I've been here thirty years." + +"I'm glad of that. You're the man I want. Got a good memory?" + +"Pretty good, sir. Not that there's much to remember," and he sighed +again. + +"H'm. Have you any recollection of a murder which took place at The +Laurels twenty-five years ago?" + +"That I have, sir," said the waiter, with faint animation, "it was the +talk of the country. Captain Larcher, wasn't it, sir, and his wife, a +sweetly pretty woman? She was accused of the murder, I think; but she +didn't do it. No, nor Mr. Jeringham either, though some people think he +did, 'cause he cleared out. And small blame to him when they were after +him like roaring lions." + +"Do you remember Jeringham?" + +"I should think so, sir. Why he stopped in this very hotel, he did. As +kind and affable a gentleman as I ever met, sir. He kill Captain +Larcher? Not he! no more than did the wife, poor thing! Now I have my +own opinion," said this wise person significantly, "but I didn't take to +it for five years after the murder. As you might say twenty years ago, +sir." + +"Who do you think committed the crime, then?" asked Tait, rather +impressed by the man's manner. + +The waiter looked around, with the enjoyable air of a man about to +impart a piece of startling information, and bent across the table to +communicate it to Tait. "Denis Bantry was the man, sir," he said +solemnly; "Captain Larcher's valet." + +"Nonsense! What makes you think that?" + +"I don't think it, sir. I know it. If you don't believe me, go to The +Laurels and ask the old gardener, Dick Pental. He saw it," finished the +waiter, in a tragic whisper. + +"Saw what? The murder?" said Tait, with a startled look. + +"Yes, sir. He saw the murder. I heard it all from him, I did; I forget +the exact story he told me. But Denis Bantry should have been hanged, +sir. Oh, there isn't the least doubt about it, sir." + +"But if this Dick Pental saw the crime committed, why didn't he come +forward and tell about it?" + +"Well, sir, it was this way," said Ganymede, dusting the table with his +napkin, "Dick aint all there. Not to be too delicate, sir, Dick's mad. +He was always a softy from a boy, not that he's old now, sir. +Forty-five, I believe, and he was twenty years of age when he was in +Captain Larcher's service." + +"And is he at The Laurels still?" + +"Why, yes, sir. You see, after the murder, no one would take the house. +They thought it haunted maybe, so Dick was put in as caretaker. He +looked after it for twenty years, and then it was taken by a gentleman +who didn't care for murders or ghosts. He's there now, sir, and so is +Dick, who still looks after the garden." + +"But why didn't Dick relate what he saw?" + +"Because of his softness, sir," said the waiter deliberately. "You see +Dick had been put into a lunatic asylum, he had, just before he came of +age. Captain Larcher--a kind gentleman, sir--took him out, and made him +gardener at The Laurels, so when Dick saw the murder done, he was afraid +to speak, in case he should be locked up again. No head, you see, sir. +So he held his tongue, he did, and only told me five years after the +murder. Then it was too late, for all those who were at The Laurels on +that night had disappeared. You don't happen to know where Denis Bantry +is, sir, do you? For he ought to hang, sir; indeed he ought." + +Tait did not think it wise to take this bloodthirsty waiter into his +confidence, but rewarded him with half a sovereign for his information, +and retired to bed to think the matter over. He was startled by this new +discovery, which seemed to indicate Denis Bantry, alias Kerry, as the +assassin, and wondered if he had been wrong all through in suspecting +Hilliston. Yet if Kerry had committed the crime, Tait saw no reason why +Hilliston should protect him, as he was evidently doing. Assuming that +the waiter had spoken correctly, the only ground on which Tait could +explain Hilliston's conduct was that Mrs. Larcher was implicated with +the old servant in the murder. If Kerry were arrested he might confess +sufficient to entangle Mrs. Larcher; and as Hilliston loved the woman, a +fact of which Tait was certain, he would not like to run so great a risk +to her liberty. But this reasoning was upset by the remembrance that +Mrs. Larcher had already been tried and acquitted of the crime; and as +according to law she could not be tried twice on the same charge, she +was safe in any case. Tait was bewildered by his own thoughts. The +kaleidoscope had shifted again; the combinations were different, but the +component parts were the same; and argue as he might there seemed no +solution of the mystery. Mrs. Larcher, Denis Bantry, his sister, +Hilliston, and Mark Jeringham; who had killed the unfortunate husband? +Tait could find no answer to this perplexing question. + +In the morning he walked to The Laurels, which he had no difficulty in +finding, owing to the explicit directions of his friend the waiter. It +was a pretty, low-roofed house on a slight rise near the river, and +built somewhat after the fashion of a bungalow. The gardens sloped to +the river bank on one side, and on the other were sheltered from inland +winds by a belt of sycamore trees; in front a light iron railing divided +them from the road, which ran past the house on its way to the ferry. +The gardens were some three acres in extent, very pretty and +picturesque, showing at every turn that whatever might be the mental +state of Dick Pental, he was thorough master of his business. Tait came +into contact with him in a short space of time through the medium of the +housekeeper. + +This individual was a sour old maid, who informed him with some acerbity +that Mr. Deemer, the present occupant of The Laurels, was away from +home, and without his permission she could not show him the house. +Perhaps she suspected Tait's errand, for she looked suspiciously at him, +and resolutely refused to let him cross the threshold. However, as a +concession she said he could inspect the grounds, which were well worth +seeing; and called Dick Pental to show him round. As Tait had really no +great desire to see the interior of the house, where he would learn +nothing likely to be of service, and a great desire to speak alone with +the mad gardener, he thankfully accepted the offer, and was then thrown +into the company of the very man whom he most desired to see. + +Dick Pental was a slender, bright-eyed man, with a dreamy-looking face; +alert in his movements, and restless with his hands and feet. He did not +seem unintelligent; but the germs of madness were plainly discernible, +and Tait guessed that only his constant life in the open air kept him +from returning to the asylum whence he had been taken by Captain +Larcher. With justifiable pride this queer creature showed Tait over the +grounds, but never by word or deed did he hint at the story which he had +told the waiter. Still hopeful, Tait led the conversation on that +direction, and finally succeeded in touching the spring in the man's +brain which made him relate the whole matter. The opportunity occurred +when the two men were standing on a slight rise overlooking the river. +Here Tait made a remark concerning the view. + +"What a peaceful scene," he said, waving his stick toward the prospect. +"Corn lands, farmhouses, the square-towered church, and the ferry +crossing the placid river. I can imagine nothing more homely, or so +charged with pleasant memories. Here all is peace and quiet, no trouble, +no danger, no crimes." + +Dick thoughtfully rubbed the half crown given him by Tait, and looked +dreamily at river and sky and opposite shore. To his abnormally active +brain the scene looked different to what it did to this stranger; and he +could not forbear alluding to the fact. Moreover, the gentleman had +given him money, and Dick was greedy, so in the expectation of +extracting another coin, he hinted that he could tell a startling story +about this very place. + +"Aint you fond of murders, sir?" he asked abruptly, turning his bright +eyes on Tait. + +"No, I don't think I am," replied the other, delighted to think he had +succeeded in rousing the man's dormant intelligence. "Why do you ask? +Murder is an ugly word, and can have nothing to do with so peaceful a +scene as this." + +"That's all you know, sir," said Dick eagerly. "Why, I could tell you of +a murder as I seed myself in this very spot where we are now--or only a +few yards from it, sir." + +Tait glanced at his watch with an affectation of hurry, and shook his +head. "I am afraid I can't wait," he said artfully. "I must return to +Horriston in a few minutes." + +"It won't take longer nor that to tell. Why, I've told it in ten +minutes, I have. It's freezer to the blood. A murder at night, too," +added Dick, in an agony lest Tait should go away, "with a lantern and a +corpse--just like you read in novels." + +"Hm!" observed Tait skeptically, not yet being sure of the man. "Is it +true?" + +"True as gospel, sir. I wouldn't tell a lie, I wouldn't. I've been +brought up Methody, you know, sir, and scorn a falsehood as a snare of +the Old 'Un. You make it worth Dicky's while, sir, and he'll give you +goose flesh. Oh, that he will." + +"Very good," said Tait, throwing himself on the sward. "I don't mind +hearing the legend of this place. If it is as good as you say I'll give +you half a sovereign." + +"In gold?" asked Dick, with a grasping eagerness. + +"In bright gold. See! here is the half sovereign. You tell the story and +it is yours. Now, then, what is it all about?" + +Dick Pental sat down beside Tait, but at some distance away, and +chuckled as he rubbed his hands. He had a chance of making +twelve-and-sixpence that morning, and was overjoyed at his good fortune. +Resolved to begin with a startling remark, he glanced down to see that +they were alone, and then brought it out. + +"I could hang a man, I could," he said cheerfully. "I could hang him +till he was a deader." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII. + + THE STORY OF THE MAD GARDENER. + + +HAVING made this startling announcement, Dick Pental drew back to +observe the effect on his hearer. Humoring the man's vanity, Tait +expressed due surprise, and requested him to narrate the circumstance to +which he referred. + +"It is about twenty-five years ago, it is," said Dick, commencing his +tale in a great hurry; "and I was the gardener here to Captain Larcher. +You don't know him, sir; it aint to be expected as you should. He was a +grown gentleman before you were, and a kind 'un he was; took me out of +the asylum, he did. They said I was mad, you know, and put me into a +strait waistcoat; but I wasn't a bit wrong in my head, sir, not I. +Captain Larcher he saw that, so he took me out and made me his gardener. +And aint I done a lot for the place? just you look round and see." + +"Your work is admirable, Dick." + +"It is that," replied the man with _naïve_ vanity, "and you aint the +first as has said that, sir. Oh, I'm fond of the garden, I am; flowers +are much nicer company than human beings, I think. Not so cross with +Dicky, you know, sir." + +"No doubt," said Tait, seeing that the creature was following the +wanderings of his poor wits. "But about this murder you----" + +"I didn't know anything was wrong," interrupted the gardener earnestly; +"I'd have kept out of the way if I'd known that; but I came here one +night when I shouldn't have been here." + +"How was that?" + +"Hot rum and water," confessed Dick, with great simplicity. "I drank +it--too much of it, and it went to my head. It isn't a strong head, so I +came here to sleep it clear again. That was about twelve o'clock as near +as I can tell, but, Lord bless you, my head made no account of time, +when the hot rum and water was in it. I woke up and I was frightened +finding myself in the dark,--I hate the dark, don't you, sir?--so I +finished some rum that I had with me and went to sleep again. Then I +woke up sudden, I did, and I saw it." + +"The murder being committed?" + +"No, not quite that! But I saw a man lying on the ground just over +there, and he didn't move a bit. Another man was holding him in his +arms, and Denis Bantry was standing by with a lantern." + +"Who was the other man?" + +"It was a gentleman called Mr. Jeringham. Oh, yes! My head was queer, +but I knew him by his clothes, I did. I was at the grand ball of the +gentry, you know; it was there I got drunk--and I saw Mr. Jeringham +there in black clothes with gold trimmings. He had them on when he bent +over Captain Larcher." + +"How did you know the man on the ground was Captain Larcher?" + +"I didn't, then," confessed Dick ingenuously; "but when I heard as they +found him in the river, I knew it was him, I did. I saw them drop him +in!" + +"Denis Bantry and Mr. Jeringham?" exclaimed Tait, astonished at the +minuteness of these details. + +"Yes. They talked together for a bit, but my head was so queer that I +couldn't make out what they said. But they picked up Captain Larcher, +one at the head and the other at the heels, and they dropped him +in--Splash! he went, he did. I was behind a tree and they couldn't see +me. Ugh!" said the man, with a shiver, "how I did feel afraid when he +went splash into the cold water. Then I went away and held my tongue." + +"Why did you do that? It was your duty to have come forward and told the +truth." + +Dick Pental put on a cunning look, and shook his head. "Not me, sir," he +said artfully. "They'd have said my head was queer and put me in an +asylum again. No, no, Dicky was too clever for them, he was." + +"But you say it was Denis Bantry who killed Captain Larcher," said Tait, +after a moment's reflection. "How do you know that, when you did not see +the blow struck? It might have been Mr. Jeringham." + +Looking lovingly at the piece of gold which was now in his possession, +Dick shook his head with great vigor. + +"It wasn't Mr. Jeringham," he protested. "He was a good, kind gentleman. +He gave Dicky half a crown the day before. He was fond of Captain +Larcher's wife, so he couldn't have killed Captain Larcher." + +Against this insane reasoning Tait had nothing to urge, as Dicky was +evidently convinced that Denis Bantry was guilty, to the exclusion of +Jeringham. Had the former given him money instead of the latter he would +doubtless have accused Jeringham and sworn to the innocence of Denis. +The man's brain was too weak to be depended upon; but Tait recognized +that the report he gave of the occurrence of that fatal night was true +and faithful in all respects. Dicky was not sufficiently imaginative to +invent such a story. + +Satisfied from the importance of the knowledge he had gained that his +time had not been wasted, Tait wished to be alone to think out the +matter. There was some difficulty in getting rid of Dicky, who was still +greedily expectant of further tips, but in the end he induced the man to +return to his work, and set out for Horriston at a brisk walk. He always +thought better when exercising his limbs, and before he reached the town +he had arrived at several conclusions respecting the case as seen under +the new light thrown on it by the gardener. + +For one thing, he concluded that Paynton was Jeringham. The reason for +Denis being in his service had been explained by Dick Pental, as the two +men were bound together by a common bond of guilt. Tait was inclined to +think that Jeringham was innocent, for if he had killed Larcher there +would have been no need for Denis to have screened him. On the other +hand, circumstantial evidence was so strong against Jeringham that, if +Denis had struck the blow, he would be forced to acquiesce in the +silence of the real criminal--to become, as it were, an accessory to the +crime. Denis could have sworn that Jeringham was guilty, and so placed +him in danger of his life. Thus the two men had a hold on one another; +Jeringham because circumstances were against him, Denis because he had +killed Larcher. The motive for the crime was not difficult to discover +after the story told by Mrs. Bezel. Bantry had killed his master as the +destroyer of his sister's honor. Under the names of Paynton and Kerry +the two men were dwelling together at Thorston in loathed companionship, +each afraid to let the other out of his sight. Tait could imagine no +more terrible punishment than that enforced comradeship. It reminded him +of a similar situation in a novel of Zola's, where husband and wife were +equally culpable, equally afraid, and filled with equal hatred the one +toward the other. + +Still this conclusion, supported as it was by facts, did not explain the +attitude of Hilliston. Assuming the guilt of Denis Bantry, the +complicity of Jeringham, there appeared to be no reason why Hilliston +should protect them at Thorston, and throw obstacles in the way of the +truth's discovery. Tait was completely nonplussed and could think of no +explanation. And then he remembered Mrs. Bezel's letter, and the mention +of Louisa Sinclair. Hilliston, according to Mrs. Bezel, knew this woman, +and she knew who had committed the crime. But how could she know unless +she had been concealed, like Dick Pental, in the garden on that night? +Tait was quite certain that Denis Bantry was guilty, but the hint of +Mrs. Bezel threatened to disturb this view; and yet what better evidence +was obtainable than that of an eye-witness. Still Tait remembered that +Dicky confessed he had not seen the blow struck. What if Louisa Sinclair +had? That was the question he asked himself. + +Under the circumstances it was necessary to find out who this woman was. +Tait did not judge it wise to ask Hilliston, for the simple reason that +the lawyer would not admit the truth. There was no obvious reason why he +should not, but Tait had sufficient experience of Hilliston's trickery +and evasion in the past to know that his admissions were untrustworthy. +There only remained for him to search for Louisa Sinclair in Horriston, +question her if she were alive, or learn all that he could if she were +dead. + +And now occurred a coincidence which unwittingly put Tait on the right +track. When within half a mile of Horriston he met a clergyman swinging +along at a good pace, and in him recognized a former college companion. +The recognition and the delight were mutual. + +"My dear Brandon, this is indeed a surprise!" exclaimed Tait, holding +out his hand. "I had no idea that you were in these parts." + +"I have only been vicar here for a year," answered Brandon cordially; +"but what are you doing at Horriston, my friend?" + +"Oh, I have come down partly on business and partly on pleasure." + +"Then dismiss business for the moment, and come to luncheon with me. I +am just going to my house. Where are you staying?" + +"At the Royal Victoria." + +"A dismal place. You must come frequently to see us while you stay here, +and we will do what we can to cheer you up. Mrs. Brandon will be +delighted to see you." + +"Oh! So you are married?" + +"For the last five years. Two children. Well, I am glad to see you +again. Do you stay here long?" + +"A few days only," replied Tait carelessly; "but it entirely depends on +my business." + +"Anything important?" + +"Yes and no. By the way, you may be able to help me, Brandon. Do you +know anyone in this parish called Miss Louisa Sinclair?" + +The vicar reflected for a few moments, and shook his head. "No, I never +heard the name. She must have been here before my time. Have you any +reason for wanting to see her?" + +"Naturally, or I should not have asked," said Tait, with faint sarcasm. +"However, I must make a confidant of you, as I wish for your advice and +assistance." + +"I shall be delighted to give both," said his friend briskly. "But here +we are at my house, and there is my wife in the porch. My dear, this is +an old college friend of mine, Spenser Tait. We must make him welcome, +for the days that have been." + +Mrs. Brandon, a comfortable, rosy-cheeked matron, with two tiny Brandons +clinging to her skirts, heartily welcomed Tait, and led the way to the +dining room. Here an extra knife and fork were hastily produced for the +guest, and they all sat down to luncheon in the best of spirits. For the +moment Tait banished all thought of the case from his mind, and laid +himself out to be agreeable to the vicar's wife. In this he succeeded, +as she subsequently pronounced him to be a singularly charming man; +while he pronounced her to be one of the most intelligent women it had +been his fortune to meet. + +After luncheon Brandon conducted Tait to his study, and there, over an +excellent cigar, the little man related the story of the Larcher affair +from the time that Claude became possessed of the papers. Needless to +say the clergyman was much astonished by the recital, and agreed with +Tait that it was difficult to know which way to turn in the present +dilemma. He thought that Denis was guilty and Jeringham an accomplice by +force of circumstances; but doubted whether the existence of Louisa +Sinclair might not altogether alter the complexion of the case. + +"Of course, the difficulty will be to find Louisa Sinclair," he said +thoughtfully; "five-and-twenty years is a long time to go back to. She +may be dead." + +"So she may," rejoined Tait a trifle tartly; "on the other hand she may +be alive. I found that waiter and that gardener who were at Horriston +then. Both remember the case, so it is probable that I shall find this +woman, or at least gain sufficient information to trace her +whereabouts." + +"I cannot recall her name, Tait. She has not been here in my time. +Fortunately I can help you in this much; that an old parishioner of mine +is calling to-day, and, as she has lived here for the last forty years +and more, it is likely she will remember if such a person dwelt here." + +"Who is this old lady?" + +"My dear fellow, you must not call her an old lady. It is true she is +over forty, but--well she is always young and charming in her own eyes. +Miss Belinda Pike is her name, and I shouldn't like to come under the +lash of her tongue." + +"Is she such a Tartar?" + +"She is----My dear fellow, you must not ask me to talk scandal about my +parishioners; moreover, I see the lady in question is coming up the +garden path. Once set her tongue going, and you will learn all the +history of Horriston for the last hundred years." + +"I only want to go back twenty-five," rejoined Tait, smiling; and at +that moment Miss Belinda Pike was announced. + +She was a tall, bony female with a hook nose, a false front, and an +artificial smile. Dressed in voluminous raiment, she bore down on +Brandon like a frigate in full sail; and proceeded to talk. All the +time she remained in the study she talked, of herself, of parish work, +of Dorcas meetings, of scandals new and old; and so astonished Tait by +the extent of her petty information and the volubility of her tongue +that he could only stare and wonder. Introduced to him she was +graciously pleased to observe that she had heard of him and his +inquiries. + +"The waiter, you know, Mr. Tait," she said, smiling at his astonishment. + "Sugden is his name; he told me all about you. Now, why do you wish to +learn all about that Larcher crime?" + +"For amusement merely," replied Tait, rather scandalizing the vicar by +this answer. "The waiter began to speak of it, and I encouraged him; +later on I heard the story from a gardener." + +"From Dicky Pental," interrupted Miss Pike vivaciously. "Oh, he can +tell you nothing--he is mad!" + +"Mad or not, he told me a great deal." + +"All false, no doubt. My dear Mr. Tait," continued the lady +impressively, "only one person can tell you the truth of that case. +Myself!" + +"Or Louisa Sinclair." + +"Louisa Sinclair! What do you know about her?" + +"Nothing, save her name," replied Tait; "but I want to know more. Can +you give me the required information?" + +"Yes. Come and have afternoon tea with me to-day, and I'll tell you all. + Oh, yes," said Miss Pike, with a self-satisfied nod, "I know who killed +Captain Larcher." + +"Jeringham--Denis, the valet--Hilliston?" + +"No. Those three people are innocent. I can swear to it. I know it." + +"Then who is guilty?" + +"Why," said Miss Pike quietly, "Mrs. Larcher's maid--Mona Bantry." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV. + + A LETTER FROM HORRISTON. + + +"MY DEAR CLAUDE: + +"In my last letter I informed you of my various discoveries with regard +to the case. I deem myself singularly fortunate in finding those who +could afford me the necessary information. Five-and-twenty years is a +wide gap of time, and, to tell the honest truth, I scarcely expected to +be successful in my mission. Death, absence, old age, might have put an +end to all who knew about the case, but, as you are already advised, I +unexpectedly met with three people who gave me three different versions +of the murder from their various points of view. First, the waiter +Sugden, who merely reflected the opinion of Dick Pental; second, the +gardener himself, with his first-hand story; and third, Miss Belinda +Pike, whose ideas are quite at variance with the other two. + +"I mentioned to you that I had met Miss Pike at my friend Brandon's, and +that she had invited me to visit her the next day to hear her story of +the case. Of course, I went, and found the lady an excellent character +for my purpose. She has a truly wonderful memory for the small beer of +life. She is a born gossip, and is one of the most spiteful women it has +ever been my fortune to meet. Her invitation was more to satisfy her own +vanity and curiosity than because she wished to do me a service; but if +she is gratified in the one she is balked in the other. With some +difficulty--for she is a most persistent creature--I managed to evade +her inquiries as to my reason for wishing to know about 'The Larcher +Affair'; and extracted from her all information likely to be of service +to us in discovering the truth. What she told me leaves me more in the +dark than ever; and I shall doubtless return to Thorston no whit nearer +the truth than I was when I set out. + +"But before narrating her story, as imparted to me in strict secrecy, +you must not be offended if certain reflections are cast by this +busybody on your mother. To get at the truth of this complication you +must view it from a disinterested standpoint and throw aside all +prejudice. I do not for a moment believe that Mrs. Larcher intended to +willfully deceive her husband, as is implied by Miss Pike, but I must +confess I think her conduct was highly reprehensible. Still I pass no +judgment, as it is not my place to do so; and you must clearly +understand that the remarks herein contained about her are those of Miss +Pike. You can guess from their tenor what a very spiteful old lady she +is. I promised to report my doings and hearings faithfully to you, and I +hereby keep my promise, and at the cost of your losing your temper. + +"The cause of Miss Pike's malignity is jealousy--a passion which is as +active now with her as it was twenty-five years ago. Then the fair +Belinda, according to her own account, was the belle of Horriston, and +shared that enviable position with two rivals--the one being your +mother, the other Miss Louisa Sinclair. I fancy I hear you exclaim at +the mention of this name. But Mrs. Bezel is right; such a person does +exist. She was a passably pretty girl,--according to Miss Pike,--and +rather popular,--again Miss Pike,--but cared for no one so much as Mr. +Francis Hilliston, then a handsome young lawyer of great promise and +good family. This is evidently the romance of Hilliston's life, and +accounts for his silence about Louisa Sinclair. He did not wish to speak +of one who had disappeared under somewhat discreditable circumstances; +yet who truly loved him. Whether he returned her love I cannot say. +Suspend your judgment till you hear the story of this maiden lady. Of +course, it is quite different to that of Dick Pental, and, I think, less +easy to believe. The gardener spoke of what he saw; Miss Pike speaks of +what she thinks. Judge for yourself which is right. + +"As I have said, Miss Pike was a belle in her younger days. She was also +well off, and could have made a good match. Unfortunately, she was in +love with Hilliston; I say unfortunately, because he happened to be in +love with Mrs. Larcher. I again apologize for putting the matter so +plainly, but Miss Pike insisted that it was so. In those days Hilliston +must have been a handsome and fascinating man, for Louisa Sinclair also +loved him--with a like result. He had no eyes for these two damsels, but +quietly devoted himself to Mrs. Larcher. I do not mean to say that he +roused the suspicions of your father, for his devotion was perfectly +respectful. The desire of the moth for the star, I may say--for +Hilliston knew well enough that he had no chances in that quarter for +two reasons. First, Mrs. Larcher was a married woman; second, she was in +love with Jeringham. + +"At the time of that notable dress ball matters stood thus: + +"Miss Belinda Pike in love with Hilliston. + +"Miss Louisa Sinclair in love with Hilliston. + +"Hilliston in love with Mrs. Larcher. + +"Mrs. Larcher in love with Jeringham. + +"Can you imagine anything more complicated; and to make confusion still +worse, Miss Pike solemnly asserted that Jeringham was not in love with +Mrs. Larcher, but with her maid, Mona Bantry. Therefore, all round, each +of these five people was in love with the wrong person. It was a modern +'Comedy of Errors,' with a tragic ending. + +"Miss Pike went to the ball in the character of a flower girl, and there +was astonished to find two Mary, Queen of Scots, and two Darnleys. +During the night she learned that out of jealousy Louisa Sinclair had +adopted the same fancy dress as your mother. She was the second Queen of +Scots, and was attired precisely the same in all respects, save that +Mrs. Larcher wore a small dagger, and Miss Sinclair did not. On making +this discovery Miss Pike naturally thought--as a jealous woman +would--that the second Darnley was Hilliston. She knew that the first +was Jeringham, and did not trouble herself about him, but maneuvered to +get speech with the second. To her astonishment she found out--how I +cannot say--that it was Captain Larcher, who was supposed to be in +London. He confessed that he was jealous of his wife, and had returned +in disguise to learn the truth. Miss Pike was not clear whether he was +suspicious of Jeringham or of Hilliston, and she had no opportunity of +learning the truth as Larcher, seeing his wife leave the ballroom, +followed her at once. The next day Miss Pike was informed of the +disappearance of Jeringham, and later on she learned of the death of +Captain Larcher. + +"Now, you will ask whom she suspected. A woman with so unhappy a temper +would not be long in forming an opinion about a matter connected with a +lady of whom she was jealous. I allude to your mother. Miss Pike had a +theory, and ever since, declining to accept the evidence given at the +trial, has held firmly to it. She suspected Mona Bantry to be guilty. I +give her reason in her own words. + +"'Of course it is only theory,' she said, when I asked her pointblank +who she thought was guilty, 'but my suspicions point to Mrs. Larcher's +maid.' + +"'To Mona Bantry?' I asked, rather astonished. + +"'Yes! She was in love with Mr. Jeringham, and he was at the ball +dressed as Darnley; Captain Larcher wore the same dress. As I told you +he left the ballroom when he saw his wife go out with Mr. Jeringham. I +fancy he followed them home, and caught them as they parted in the +garden of The Laurels. Very likely he ordered Mr. Jeringham off the +premises, and insisted on his wife going into the house. Mona, who was +sitting up for her mistress, would open the door, and seeing by the +dress, as she thought, Mr. Jeringham with Mrs. Larcher, I believe she +lost her head and killed him.' + +"'Killed him; but how?' + +"'With the dagger worn by Mrs. Larcher,' responded Miss Pike +triumphantly. 'She snatched it from the sheath as it hung at the girdle +of Mrs. Larcher, and killed the poor man--thinking he was her lover. +Then, finding out her mistake, she fled. + +"'But so did Jeringham,' I said. + +"'Yes. He also saw the murder, and naturally enough thought he might be +suspected. I think he took Mona away with him on the very night, and +they fled together. As to the body, Denis, the brother, to save his +sister and possibly his mistress from being suspected, threw it into the +river. That is my theory, Mr. Tait, and I believe it to be the true +one.' + +"I need not repeat more of our conversation, as it was merely argument +on both sides, but you now know sufficient to see in what direction Miss +Pike's suspicions are directed. Her story is quite at variance with that +of your mother, who plainly stated that she found Mona in the sitting +room with your father. It is not strange that the two narrations should +be contradictory, for we must remember that Mrs. Larcher spoke from +facts while Miss Pike only speaks from hearsay. + +"Again, from the statement of Dick Pental, it would appear that the +murder took place in the garden; your mother says it was committed in +the sitting room, so here is another contradiction. But you must not +forget that only one person has sworn to the identity of those he saw +with the body. Miss Pike can prove nothing from facts, and only evolves +accusations out of her own malignant nature. Your mother accuses no one, +alleging that she fainted in the sitting room. Therefore, taking all +facts into consideration, I believe the gardener's story to be true, and +that Denis Bantry killed your father; Jeringham, through force of +circumstances, being an accessory to the deed. This view accounts for +the identity of Paynton with Jeringham, of Kerry with Denis--and fully +accounts for their living in seclusion at Thorston. This is my opinion. +Do you think you can give a better? + +"Regarding your mother's hint about Louisa Sinclair, I confess I cannot +understand it. Miss Pike was perfectly frank about that person; and +stated that shortly after the murder she went to America and had not +been heard of for years. Hilliston may know of her whereabouts, but +under the circumstances I do not think he is likely to speak. At all +events we are certain of two things: that Louisa Sinclair did not marry +Hilliston; that she had nothing to do with the tragedy at The Laurels. +Miss Pike intends to show me a portrait of the lady on the occasion of +my next visit. A knowledge of her looks may lead to something; but +honestly speaking I do not see how she can possibly be implicated in the +matter. + +"But I must bring this long letter to a close. I have found out +sufficient at Horriston to justify our suspicions of the _ménage_ at +Rose Cottage, and when I return we must set our wits to work to see +Paynton and Kerry. They must be forced into plain speaking, then we may +solve the mystery of your father's death--not before. Expect me in two +days, and think over what I have written so that we may discuss the +matter thoroughly when we come together. And so no more at present from +your friend, + + "SPENSER TAIT." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV. + + THE ORIGINAL OF THE PORTRAIT. + + +CLAUDE LARCHER was blessed with the best of tempers, and strongly gifted +with self-control. He found these virtues very necessary in his +profession, especially when in command of a body of men in the wilds. +There no trouble ruffled him, no disappointment depressed his spirits; +he was always serene and amiable, so that among his comrades his good +temper had become proverbial. Had they seen him at this moment they +would have found reason to alter their opinion. + +The case wore out his patience; he saw no end to the complications +arising therefrom. No sooner was one obstacle surmounted than another +blocked up the path. But for Tait he would have taken Hilliston's advice +long ago, and let the matter lie; but the little man was bent on solving +this particularly tantalizing mystery, and so urged his friend to +persevere in what seemed to be futile attempts. So far Claude had held +to his resolve, but this last letter of Tait's with its budget of new +complications threw him into a rage. He vowed that he would throw up the +matter as soon as Tait returned. His father was dead, and there was an +end of it; after five-and-twenty years nothing whatever could be +discovered; and above all there was Jenny. + +Claude was too clear-sighted to disguise from himself the fact that he +was in love; and now enlightened by Mrs. Hilliston regarding the +feelings of the young lady, he was doubly anxious to make her his wife. +Before he could do so he had to remove an obstacle in the shape of her +father, and that was no easy matter. Who Mr. Paynton was he did not +know; whether he was implicated in the Larcher affair he could not +guess; but of one thing he was certain: that Mr. Paynton resented his +prosecution of the case. While he continued to investigate the mystery +the recluse would continue inimical, and would therefore refuse to +permit him to pay attentions to his daughter. + +Regarding Linton and his love, Claude had no fears. He had been assured +by Mrs. Hilliston that Jenny liked him best, and taking advantage of the +hint he had thrown himself as frequently as possible into the society of +his beloved. Did Jenny go to the vicarage, Claude was there under the +pretense of questioning the clergyman concerning the architecture of the +church; did she practice on the organ, Claude was always waiting at the +door to carry her music-book to Rose Cottage. A walk in the morning, he +was in the vicinity; a stroll in the evening, and he appeared +unexpectedly round the nearest corner. In driving, riding, walking, +visiting, this persistent young man was constantly to be found near Miss +Jenny Paynton. All this meant infatuation. + +Availing himself of the opportunities thus afforded, he learned her +secret, and betrayed his own. Without a word being said on either +side--with the shadow of the case between them--these two young people +fell in love with one another. When Tait returned two days after his +last letter, he was confronted by Claude with the intimation that he +wished to stop further investigations. Tait, who was devoured by an +unappeasable curiosity to find out the truth, resented this backsliding, +and told Claude his opinion very plainly. But for their long friendship +they would have quarreled over the matter; as it was Tait argued out the +question, and induced Claude to come round to his way of thinking. But +it was a hard task. + +"You are not going to turn back after putting your hand to the plow?" he +said, when Claude first broached the subject of abandoning the case. + +"Why not, if the plow won't move?" returned the young man flippantly. + +"The plow will move," returned Tait vehemently. "You got my last +letter?" + +"I did. But I don't see that it contains anything likely to elucidate +the mystery. Your Dick Pental is a madman; your Miss Pike an +untrustworthy gossip." + +"That is your opinion, not mine. I have made a discovery since writing +my last letter, of which I have not yet had time to inform you." + +"What is it?" + +"I'll tell you later on. Meanwhile is it on account of this girl that +you have decided to abandon the case?" + +"Partly, and partly because I think we are wasting time. Our +investigation can lead to no result." + +"We may find out who killed your father." + +"I doubt that," replied Larcher coolly. "You suspect Hilliston; you +suspect Jeringham; you suspect Mona Bantry. Why, in your last letter you +hinted at the guilt of Denis, simply because a drunken lunatic told you +a wild story; yet, so far as I can see, you have not a morsel of +evidence against any one of the four." + +"You are wrong," said Tait, in an argumentative manner. "The misfortune +is that there is too much evidence against them all. I could furnish you +with a case against each which--so far as circumstantial evidence is +concerned--would convince you of their individual guilt." + +"Theory, Tait, theory!" + +"We'll prove that soon, my boy," said Tait, with exasperating coolness, +"if you back out of the case, I at least am determined to see it +through. I suppose you are bent on marrying the young lady." + +"If she'll have me--yes." + +"Humph! There's another obstacle which you have overlooked. The consent +of her father--our mysterious friend, Paynton." + +"I have not overlooked the obstacle. I will obtain his consent from his +own lips." + +"And how do you intend to see him?" + +"Through the agency of Mr. Hilliston," replied Larcher calmly. "He has +agreed to introduce me to Paynton to-morrow. Here is his letter." + +The little man fairly bounded from his chair, and he took the letter +from his friend's hand with an air of bewilderment. After mastering the +contents he returned it with a satisfied nod. + +"I congratulate you, Claude," he said, with a good-humored air. "Though +you failed with the man, you may succeed with the matter. But how in the +name of Olympian Jove did you induce Hilliston to do this?" + +"Why, he saw that I was in love with Jenny, and for some inexplicable +reason has agreed to forward my suit, by introducing me to plead my +cause with the father." + +"Not so inexplicable as you think," said Tait sagaciously. "I see his +idea. He thinks you will be so occupied with love-making as to abandon +the case." + +"I don't know that he isn't right." + +"Oh, I see you are bent on getting quit of the matter, Claude. But," and +Tait shook a reproving forefinger, "you will change your mind after this +interview with our hermit friend." + +"Why so?" + +"You will learn something which will astonish you. I only wish I could +be present with you to see what occurs." + +"But if I make no reference to the case," said Larcher seriously. + +Tait waxed indignant on the instant, and spoke his mind freely. "Claude, +my friend, I went into this matter solely on your account, and you owe +it to me to see it through. If you find further investigation a bar to +your marriage I will agree to let the matter drop. But first," added +Tait, with emphasis, "you must make an effort to get the truth out of +this man. Swear to him that you are resolved to push the matter to the +end. Tell him that I have learned something new at Horriston. Mention +the name of Louisa Sinclair. Then see the result. After hearing the +story of Dicky Pental I am convinced that this man is Jeringham." + +"I will do all you say," replied Claude, after some hesitation, "but I +am afraid that my pertinacity in this matter will prejudice my wooing." + +"If, at the end of the interview, you see that, withdraw your intention +to go on with the case. Then out of gratitude he may give you his +daughter. Bluff him first--yield afterward. In that way we may discover +who Paynton is--what he has to do with the case, and why he is connected +with Hilliston. Do you agree? Good! Give me your hand on that." + +The two men shook hands, though it was not without a secret qualm that +Claude thus sealed the compact. After a pause he said: + +"And who is this Louisa Sinclair you make such a point of my mentioning +to Paynton?" + +"Ah! That is my discovery," said Tait, rubbing his hands. "When I +interviewed Mrs. Bezel I showed her a portrait of Mrs. Hilliston, whom +curiously enough she had never seen--no doubt Hilliston has his reasons +therefor. She seemed startled, but said nothing. Then she wrote to you +about Louisa Sinclair." + +"But what has Louisa Sinclair to do with Mrs. Hilliston?" + +"Can't you guess? Miss Pike showed me a portrait of Louisa Sinclair +taken twenty-five years ago. I did not then wonder at Mrs. Bezel's +start, or that Hilliston had refrained from letting her see the picture +of his wife. In a word, Louisa Sinclair and Mrs. Hilliston are one and +the same woman." + +"Ah!" cried Claude, with a sudden recollection, "it was for that she was +so afraid of your going to Horriston." + +"Yes. She thought I might learn too much. This is the beginning of the +end, Claude." + +"What! Do you think Mrs. Hilliston knows anything of the case?" + +"According to your mother she knows a good deal. According to Miss Pike +she is in possession of certain facts. Yes, I think Mrs. Hilliston can +help us if she will." + +"But, my dear Tait," said Claude quietly, "Mrs. Hilliston is an +American." + +"Ah! Louisa Sinclair went to America, and probably became a naturalized +subject of the Stars and Stripes." + +"But," objected Larcher, "she was a widow when she married Hilliston." + +"So I believe. A Mrs. Derrick. No doubt she came by all her money +through that first marriage. Oh, I can put the puzzle easily together. +No wonder Hilliston wanted the case dropped, both on his own account and +on that of his wife." + +"What do you mean, Tait? Do you suspect that----" + +"Say no more," said Tait, rising, "I will tell you what I mean after you +have seen Paynton. But then," added he significantly, "I don't think you +will need any explanation." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI. + + A STRANGE THING HAPPENS. + + +THE next morning Claude received a second letter from Hilliston, stating +that as his wife was ill he would be unable to come over to Thorston, +but directing the young man to go to Rose Cottage at noon, when Mr. +Paynton would be ready to receive him. Tait regretted that he had not +been included in the invitation, and carefully instructed Claude how to +act during the interview. + +"I believe Paynton can settle the matter," were his parting words, "so +put love out of your head for the time being, and do your best to +extract the truth." + +Anxious to oblige one who took so much interest in his private affairs, +Larcher promised to do what he could, and shortly after eleven started +for Rose Cottage. As a matter of fact, he need not have gone so soon, +but he did so in the hope of meeting with Jenny. Well acquainted as he +was with her movements, his surmise proved correct, for he met the young +lady at the end of Nightingale Lane. She blushed, and expressed surprise +at the meeting. But such feigning is part of love's comedy. + +"I did not expect to see you here, Mr. Larcher," she said, after the +first greetings had passed between them. "Where are you going?" + +"I am about to call on your father." + +"Really!" said Jenny, with some perplexity and more doubt. "I am afraid +you go on a useless errand. My father sees no one." + +"He will see me," replied Claude quietly. "I come by appointment. Mr. +Hilliston spoke to your father, with the result that he has agreed to +see me." + +"Has your visit anything to do with--with that novel?" + +"It has everything to do with it. I wish to ask Mr. Paynton some +questions in connection with my father's death." + +"But he knows nothing--nothing!" cried Jenny vehemently; "he can tell +you nothing! It is worse than useless for you to speak to him on the +subject. You will only make him ill." + +"But I have to speak to him on another subject," said Claude artfully. + +Jenny looked up inquiringly, remarked the passion in his gaze, and +turned away her face with a blush. Much as she would have liked to, she +found it impossible to appear ignorant of his meaning. + +"It seems to me that I am the person to be first consulted," she said, +with a pout. + +"Jenny, I----" + +"Hush! Here is Kerry. See my father first, and then see me. Till then +good-by." + +She flitted rapidly away, and turned the corner of the lane as Kerry, +more crabbed-looking than ever, came up to where Claude was standing. It +was then that Larcher saw that the old servant was suffering under some +strong emotion. His eyes were brighter than usual, his lips quivered, +and he was so nervous that he could keep neither limbs nor body at rest. +Rightly connecting this agitation with his visit, Claude wisely held his +peace, and waited to hear what Kerry had to say. + +"You'll be after seeing the master, sir," said Kerry, in breathless +anxiety. "He is waiting for you, sir, in the garden." + +"I was just on my way there, Kerry, and stopped to speak for a few +minutes to Miss Jenny. I am very glad that Mr. Paynton has consented to +see me." + +"And you may well be glad, Master Claude." + +"Master Claude!" echoed the young man, stopping short. + +"Oh, blazes! 'twas a slip of the tongue, sir," cried Kerry anxiously. +"Don't notice it, sir. Sure, it's old I am, and my mind wanders." + +"Then you deny that you are Denis Bantry?" + +"Say nothing of that, sir. Let the master speak his own mind to you. +You'll know soon enough who I am, and that's a fact, anyhow." + +"I am convinced in my own mind that you are my father's old servant," +said Larcher, as he resumed his walk, "but who your master is I am not +so clear." + +Kerry shook his head, and pursed up his lips, as though determined to +let no information escape him. They walked along in silence, and it was +only when he unlocked the gate in the red brick wall that Kerry again +opened his mouth. + +"Keep silent, sir, if you love me," he said, in a low tone. "Don't +agitate the master. He'll do the speaking, and tell ye all ye wish to +know. Begad, and more too." + +Larcher nodded, and passed into the garden. The morning was warm and +sunny, and the colors of the flowers were dazzling in the warm glow, +against the white walls of the cottage. With his hands clasped behind +his back, Paynton paced meditatively up and down the path before the +house, but stopped as he caught sight of his visitor. Taking off his hat +in tribute to the venerable looks of the old gentleman, Claude bowed, +and waited to be addressed. For some moments Paynton looked at him in +silence, with much emotion, then controlling himself with some +difficulty held out his hand. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr.--Mr.----" + +"Larcher," suggested Claude, seeing his host at a loss for the name. + +"Larcher!" gasped Paynton, with an effort, "yes--yes! My friend, Mr. +Hilliston, advised me of your coming. Let us enter the house. We will +have more privacy there." + +As Claude knew no one was about in that walled place but Kerry and the +deaf old housekeeper, he wondered what further privacy was necessary; +but considering that Paynton had doubtless good reason for his action, +he bowed silently and followed him within, as requested. + +In a few minutes they were in the bookroom. Paynton seated himself in +such a position as to place his back to the strong light shining through +the window, and asked Claude to be seated in a chair which lacked this +advantage. In this way Paynton could observe every change in the face of +his visitor, while his own, being in the shadow, was more difficult to +read. Larcher saw the maneuver, but did not think it necessary to make +any objection. In his place Tait would have acted differently. + +"I am greatly obliged that you have consented to see me," said Claude, +breaking the silence, "for I am informed that you live a very secluded +life." + +"That is true. I accord you this interview at the request of my friend, +Mr. Hilliston, but at the same time I may tell you that I have my own +reasons for granting it." + +"I think I can guess your reasons, Mr. Paynton." + +"No doubt," replied Paynton, touching a book on the table; "they are not +unconnected with this novel. You know, of course, that my daughter--that +Jenny supplied young Linton with the material for his plot." + +"I do. She found the report of my father's murder in some old newspapers +in this house." + +"Did you not think it strange that I should be in possession of such a +report?" + +"Naturally I did," answered Claude, replying to this direct question +with marked embarrassment, "and it is on that account that I ask you to +help me." + +"Do you think I can do so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Why?" asked Paynton, in an unsteady voice. + +"Because you know about the matter. You retained the report of the +trial. Denis Bantry is in your service under the name of Kerry, and----" + +"How do you know that?" + +"Why, in the third volume of that book there is an episode of a scarfpin +which is not mentioned in the report of the trial, but which was told to +Miss Paynton by the man you call Kerry. Now, only two persons knew that +a scarfpin was picked up in the grounds of The Laurels after the murder. +One was Hilliston, the other Denis Bantry. You must see, Mr. Paynton, +that I can only come to one conclusion." + +"I presume you got this information from Hilliston," said Paynton, in an +altered voice. + +"Mr. Hilliston spoke of it," replied Claude cautiously. + +He did not intend to reveal that he had heard it from his mother, or +indeed to reveal the existence of Mrs. Larcher until he was sure of his +ground, and positive of Paynton's identity. Accepting his diplomatic +answer in the affirmative, Paynton nodded, and went on with his +questioning. + +"You spoke to Kerry on the subject?" + +"I did. But, as you may guess, I failed." + +"Naturally. Kerry is a faithful servant. I owe more to him than I can +ever repay. But here we are talking about the murder," added Paynton +irrelevantly, "when you wish to speak about Jenny, at least so Hilliston +informed me." + +"I do wish to speak of your daughter later on," said Claude, with a +flushed cheek; "but in the meantime I am anxious to come to an +understanding about this crime." + +"Why?" said Paynton, rather disconcerted at his failure to turn the +conversation. + +"Because I have sworn to avenge the death of my father." + +"That is what a good son should do," said Paynton thoughtfully. "But +after twenty-five years the chances are small. You wish to find the +murderer--so do I." + +"You!" + +"Yes. I am more deeply interested in this matter than you suppose. Who +do you think I am?" he asked. + +"I cannot say, unless you are Jeringham." + +"Jeringham?" said Paynton in a faltering tone. "No, I am not Jeringham, +poor soul! Do you think him guilty of the crime?" + +"I do and I don't. Sometimes it seems so, at others I fancy Hilliston to +be guilty." + +"Hilliston guilty!" said Paynton, rising. "What do you mean?" + +"Oh, it is only a theory," said Claude hastily. "But my friend Tait, who +was at Horriston a few days ago, found out all kinds of things which +implicated one person and another. He found----" + +"Don't tell me--don't tell me," said Paynton hastily. "I cannot talk to +you longer or else I shall be ill. This interview has already tried me +too much. Here," he added, unlocking a drawer in his desk, "take these +papers. You will find in them a full account of all I know of the +matter." + +"You were, then, an eye-witness?" said Claude, joyfully slipping the +roll of manuscript into his pocket. He had been more successful than he +had hoped to be. + +Paynton pressed his hands together, and looked eagerly at Claude. "I can +bear it no longer," he said impatiently, laying his hands on the +shoulders of the astonished young man. "Boy--boy, can you not guess who +I am?" + +"No," replied Larcher, rising to his feet in some wonder, "I do not know +who you can be, unless you are Jeringham." + +"I am not Jeringham. He is dead." + +"Dead!" + +"Aye, murdered. Can you not see--can you not guess? Claude, the man who +was killed at Horriston was not George Larcher, it was Mark Jeringham!" + +"But you--you----" + +"I am your father!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVII. + + A VOICE FROM THE GRAVE. + + +IT was close on two o'clock, and, weary of waiting for Claude, the +master of the Manor House had seated himself at the luncheon table. He +was curious to know what had taken place between his friend and Mr. +Paynton, as he judged from the length of time the interview had lasted +that some important communication must have been made. Had Claude +discovered the identity of Paynton with Jeringham? If so, had Jeringham +confessed to the crime? These questions so annoyed and perplexed Tait +that he could not swallow a mouthful of food. Throwing aside his napkin +he rose from the table to see if Larcher had returned. + +As he pushed back his chair the door opened and Claude, with a roll of +papers in his hand, made his appearance. Tait turned to greet him with a +smile, but it disappeared from his face and the words died on his lips +when he saw the white and haggard countenance of his friend. + +"Good Heavens, man!" he cried, hastening toward him; "what is the +matter? Here, sit down! Drink this glass of wine!" + +Claude did as he was bidden; then waved his hand in the direction of +Dormer, who, stolid as ever, stood waiting orders. + +"You can go, Dormer," said Tait hastily. Then, when the man leaving the +room closed the door after him, and they found themselves alone, he +continued: "Is anything wrong, Claude? Did Paynton tell----" + +"Not Paynton," said Larcher, finishing his wine and setting down the +glass; "there is not such a person!" + +"Aha!" remarked Tait, rubbing his hands. "I thought the name was a +feigned one. And who is our friend, Mr. Paynton?" + +"My father!" + +Tait opened his mouth to utter an ejaculation, shut it without doing so, +and looked dumfounded at his friend. + +"What--what--what do you mean? Are you mad?" he stammered, sitting down +limply. + +"No, I am not mad," groaned Claude, "though I have suffered enough to +make me so. I mean what I say. It was Jeringham who was murdered. +Jeringham, who was dressed as Darnley on that night, as was my father. +Jeringham, whose corpse was so unrecognizable by decomposition that it +was thought to be that of George Larcher. My father is alive! My father +is hiding here as Ferdinand Paynton. This is his story of the tragedy." + +He placed the roll of paper in Tait's hands, and poured himself out +another glass of wine. Overcome with amazement the little man looked +first at the paper, then at his friend. It was some minutes before he +could collect his wits together and speak coherently. + +"What an extraordinary thing," he said at length. "You thought both your +parents dead, but now it seems they are alive. Your mother at Clarence +Cottage, Hampstead; your father at Rose Cottage, Thorston. Did you tell +your father that Mrs. Larcher was still in existence?" he asked sharply. + +"I had no time to do so," said Claude, with an effort. "My father placed +those papers in my hand, and then confessed who he was. I wished to +speak further to him, but he pushed me out of the room, saying, 'Read +that confession, and form your judgment before you accept me as your +father.' I hardly knew what I was doing till I found myself in the lane +outside. Then I came on here. I still feel quite bewildered." + +"I don't wonder at it! Take another glass of wine. Did your----" + +"Don't ask any questions, Tait," said Claude, rising impatiently. "Read +me the confession at once. I can't do it myself." + +"Won't you have some luncheon?" + +"No! Every mouthful would choke me. I'll lie down on the sofa, and you +bring your chair close to me to read." + +Tait nodded, and unrolled the papers, while Claude, filling himself +another glass of claret, crossed over to the sofa and lay down thereon. +With the glass of wine on the carpet beside him; with the untasted +luncheon on the table, he closed his eyes with a weary sigh, and +compelled himself to listen. Tait glanced sympathetically at him, then +without remark, though he was burning to speak, smoothed out the paper +and began to read slowly. The writing was clear and legible, the matter +interesting, so there was no difficulty in deciphering the story of the +tragedy, as narrated by the man, who, for twenty-two years, had been +supposed to be the victim. The confession (so-called) was in the form of +a letter from father to son: + + "DEAR CLAUDE: + + "At length I have made up my mind to reveal myself to you, and + to set out at length the circumstances which placed me in this + position. I am led to do so by three things. Firstly, your + presence in this neighborhood with the avowed intention of + avenging my death. Secondly, the publication of the novel + entitled 'A Whim of Fate,' which sets out the particulars of + what happened at Horriston in 1866, more or less perverted for + fictional purposes. Thirdly, the advice of Francis Hilliston, an + old and valued friend, who points out that the only way to stop + you in the investigation is to admit my identity, and so do away + with your motive, viz., the avenging of my death. On reading + this I leave it to yourself whether you will still consider me + your father, and visit me accordingly, or whether you will look + on me as a guilty man. Till you are acquainted with the truth, + so far as I am aware of it, I swear that I will not approach you + or open my mouth in your presence. On this understanding I set + forth the following facts as shortly as is consistent with + clearness. Judge me as you please, but I declare before God that + I am innocent of Jeringham's death, and that I know not who + killed him. This for the prologue; and now for the story. + + "You will understand that I wish to cast no aspersions on the + memory of your mother; but in the present case, it is necessary + that I should speak plainly. Your mother and I were ill suited + to one another, and lived unhappily together. Even when in the + army I was addicted to literary pursuits, and, when I sent in my + papers, I devoted myself almost entirely to study. Your mother + was gay and social. Being a beautiful woman she liked + admiration, and was never so happy as when out at balls, at the + theater, or at garden parties. She lived in a whirl of + excitement, and she quarreled bitterly with me because I + preferred a quieter life. I accompanied her sometimes, but not + often enough to please her, and when we came to reside at The + Laurels after my leaving the army, she frequently declared that + she regretted having given up Mark Jeringham for me. Naturally + enough I resented this plain speaking, and we were estranged. + Not even your birth could bridge over the abyss between us, and, + while we lived at The Laurels at Horriston, I believe we were as + unhappy and ill-matched a couple as existed in England. It was + the quick coupled with the dead, and we both suffered + accordingly. + + "The first cause of our unhappiness was, as you see, + incompatibility of temper; the second was the presence of + Jeringham, who came to Horriston ostensibly on a visit, in + reality to stay near my wife. + + "You can easily understand that I resented the presence of this + young man. He was remarkably like me in height, figure, and + looks, and my wife had a fancy for him before her marriage with + me. That she became my wife, she laughingly avowed, was because + of my uniform. So far as looks were concerned there was nothing + to choose between Jeringham and myself, but the glitter of the + military trappings (so she declared) turned the balance in my + favor. You may be sure I liked Jeringham none the more after + such a declaration of lukewarm affection from your mother; and + when he came to reside at Horriston, four years after our + marriage, I resented his continued presence about the house. + Your mother was angry at my expostulations, and the introduction + of this second element of discord into the house estranged us + more widely than ever. It was a miserable and most unhappy time. + + "It was my friend Hilliston who pointed out the real reason for + Jeringham's visits. This latter was not in love with my wife, + but with her maid, Mona Bantry. As Denis, the brother of Mona, + was an old servant of mine, I did not care to speak to my wife + on the matter, but to keep the affair quiet, and to save the + girl from the anger of her brother, I discouraged the visits of + Jeringham on all possible occasions. We had a quarrel in public, + and, as all the gossips of Horriston knew that he had been fond + of my wife before her marriage to me, the quarrel was set down + to jealousy on my part. All the neighborhood knew there was bad + blood between Jeringham and myself, and (foolishly enough, I + admit) I made use of several expressions calculated to show my + hatred. These heated speeches were afterward remembered and + commented upon. + + "Things were in this position when the fancy dress ball took + place at Horriston. Hearing that it was to be a masked ball, I + resolved to assume a similar dress to that of Jeringham, and + learn from my wife's own lips if she still cared for me. You may + think I acted in an unworthy manner, but as a matter of fact I + was nearly out of my mind with anger and jealousy, and hardly + knew what I was doing. My wife was going to the ball as Mary, + Queen of Scots, accompanied by Jeringham as Darnley. This was + sufficiently pointed to show in what direction her affections + leaned, and I took advantage of the opportunity. Feigning an + excuse, I ostensibly went to London, but in reality remained at + Horriston, where I obtained from the costumer a similar dress to + that worn by Jeringham. + + "Thus masked and disguised I repaired to the ball. There I was + recognized by a Miss Belinda Pike, but she kindly consented to + keep my secret. You can guess what happened. Deceived by the + dress my wife took me for Jeringham, and I learned sufficient to + know that she loved him and hated me. I did not reveal myself, + but went away mad with wrath. My sole idea was to unmask + Jeringham, and show my wife how unworthy he was of her love. To + this end I sought out Hilliston, and, learning that my wife was + shortly returning home, Hilliston and I went to The Laurels + together, as I intended to make Mona confess that Jeringham was + her lover. I left Hilliston outside in the garden to watch for + the coming of my wife, and entered the house to see Mona. She + was waiting in the sitting room for her mistress, and I then and + there forced her to admit the truth. She declared that Jeringham + was the father of her unborn child, and implored me not to tell + her brother. Fortunately, I had directed Denis to stay in the + entrance hall, so he did not hear his sister's confession, and + she was safe for the time being. + + "While I was talking with Mona, my wife entered. She immediately + accused me of having feigned a visit to London in order to stay + at home with Mona. The girl slipped out of the room, and my wife + continued her ravings. She said that Jeringham had come home + with her and was at that moment in the garden; there she swore + to join him. I prevented her leaving the room, and ultimately + she fainted. I ran out to call Mona, and found that she had left + the house, no doubt to join Jeringham in the garden, to tell him + that the secret was known. I also went into the garden to seek + for Jeringham. To my horror I stumbled over a dead body, and + hastily ran back for a light to see whose it was. Denis came + with the lantern, and we found it was the corpse of Jeringham. + He had been stabbed to the heart. + + "I would have given the alarm, but that Denis, quicker-witted + than I at the moment, prevented me. He pointed out that it was + well-known that I was on bad terms with Jeringham; that the + unhappy man had been murdered in my garden; that my hands were + red with the blood, and my clothes stained owing to handling the + corpse; and said that I would be accused of the murder. I saw in + a flash the peril in which I stood. I don't know if Denis + suspected me of the crime, as he was not present when I first + found the body, but he acted the part of a friend. We threw the + body into the river and I made my preparations for flight. No + one but Hilliston and Miss Pike knew that I had returned from + London on that night, for my wife would keep silence, as I + thought, for her own sake, and Mona had disappeared. I left the + house in charge of Denis, and without a word to my wife, who had + brought about this catastrophe, I sought safety in flight. It + was cowardly, if you like, but I had no other resource. I would + have been accused of the murder had I stayed, for the evidence + was strong against me. I fled and trusted to chance to hide the + crime. + + "The rest you know. My wife was accused and tried for my murder, + as Jeringham's corpse was so disfigured that it was thought to + be mine. I have mentioned the strong resemblance between us, and + this helped the deception. I was compelled to keep in hiding as + Jeringham, but I declare, had the case gone against my wife, I + should have come forward and told all. As it was I went abroad, + aided by Hilliston, who acted as my friend all through. He + looked after my unhappy wife till she died in London; he took + charge of you and brought you up like a son. He also secured me + sufficient of my own property to live quietly, so I came to + Thorston under the name of Paynton, and here I have lived ever + since. I thought to die in peace, but you, Claude, have reopened + the case. I tell you this to show you the futility of trying to + find the real murderer. I do not know who killed Jeringham, nor + do I think you will ever find out. If, after reading this, you + still consider me your father, come at once to a most unhappy + man. Be just, be lenient, my son, and forgive your unhappy + father, + + "GEORGE LARCHER." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + A NEW ASPECT OF THINGS. + + +TAIT folded over the last sheet of this long letter with a sigh. +Although he was pleased for Claude's sake that George Larcher was still +in the land of the living, yet he was distinctly disappointed that no +communication had been made likely to elucidate the mystery. Yet the +result of this confession was an entire displacement of the point whence +it was necessary to survey the case. The motives which had caused the +supposed death of Larcher would not suffice to explain the death of +Jeringham. The case had assumed a new aspect, but nevertheless it was as +complex and inexplicable as ever. Tait thought of all this with +inconceivable rapidity, but did not give utterance to his opinion in the +presence of his friend. + +"The letter is wonderful, so far," was his sole remark, "but it is a +great pity that it ends so abruptly. I suppose your father will +personally relate all other details, Claude, when you see him again." + +The young man assumed a sitting position, and deliberately finished his +wine before replying to this remark. He looked anxious and disturbed, +and, now that he had recovered from the overwhelming surprise at finding +his father alive, seemed less delighted than he should have been. A +miracle had been wrought in his behalf; the dead had been restored to +life; but he was by no means gratified by the occurrence. + +"I don't know whether I shall see my father again," he said shortly. + +"But, my dear friend----" + +"Oh, I know all you would say," interrupted Claude hastily, with a +frown; "but I am not prepared to admit your arguments. My mother is +alive, my father is in existence, yet for twenty-five years I have +looked on them as dead. Can you, then, wonder that I feel awkward toward +them both; that I am by no means disposed to render them that filial +affection which, you must admit, they but ill deserve?" + +"The question is so delicate that I can only hold my peace," said Tait, +after a pause. "I admit what you say. Still they are your own flesh and +blood." + +"I might answer you as _Hamlet_ did on a like occasion," replied Claude, +with a bitter smile; "but a quotation will not mend matters. What I have +to consider is the advisability of seeing my father again." + +"You must certainly see him again," said the other promptly. + +"Why?" + +"In the first place he is your father, whatever you may say, and in the +second you had better tell him personally that you abandon further +investigation of the case. After all, your object is gone; for though +you might want to avenge the death of a parent, the murder of a scamp +like Jeringham can matter nothing to you." + +"Oh, that I abandon the case goes without speaking," said Claude +quickly, "and you----" + +"I act in the same way. The further we go into the case the more +perplexing does it become. It is beyond me. Only at the Last Day will +the mystery be solved. Still," added Tait meditatively, "I must admit a +curiosity yet exists on my part to know who struck the blow. Of course +your father's story corroborates Dicky Pental's, but the gardener +mistook him for Jeringham by reason of the fancy dress." + +"Does this letter suggest anything to you?" + +"It narrows the field of inquiry, that is all. Your mother, your father, +and Denis Bantry must necessarily be innocent, as they were in the house +when the murder took place in the garden." + +"If they are innocent, who is guilty?" + +"We have a choice of two who were outside at the time. You can choose +between Hilliston and Mona Bantry." + +"Mona Bantry kill her lover! How do you make that out?" + +"You forget your father's account of the scene in the sitting room," +said Tait significantly; "then Mrs. Larcher asserted in the presence of +Mona that she had come with Jeringham, furthermore, that he was in the +garden. Mona, also jealous, acts as any other woman would have done in +such a position. She goes into the garden to demand an explanation; +there is a quarrel between her and Jeringham, and she kills him, then +flies, not to hide her disgrace, but to evade the consequences of her +act. That is a feasible theory, I think." + +Claude shook his head. "I don't agree with you," he said emphatically. +"You forget that we have my mother's account of the matter to place +against that of my father's. If you recollect she also admitted finding +my father and Mona in the sitting room; she also admits fainting, but +there all resemblance between the accounts ceases. My mother distinctly +says that she threatened her husband with the dagger, that it fell on +the floor when she lost her senses. When she recovered them the dagger +was gone. Now," continued Claude slowly, "if you remember, the crime was +committed by means of the dagger, for it was found red with blood in the +grounds, and then was taken possession of by the police. If my mother's +account is the true one, Mona Bantry may certainly have picked up the +dagger and have murdered Jeringham, as you suggest. But if my father's +story is to be believed, Mona left the room before my mother fainted, +and consequently could not have gained possession of the dagger. It +follows as a natural consequence that she could not have committed the +murder." + +Tait nodded several times during this explanation, to show that he +agreed with the points raised; but when Claude concluded he rubbed his +chin in some perplexity. + +"Here we come to a dead stop," said he impatiently. "It was asserted by +the police that the murder was committed with the dagger worn by your +mother as part of the fancy dress." + +"Yes! If you remember, it was on that evidence she was arrested." + +"Well, if she wore that dagger in the sitting room, Jeringham could not +have been killed with it, because the murder must have taken place while +your father was trying to pacify your mother." + +Claude glanced at the letter again. "My father makes no mention of the +dagger in this," he said, with a puzzled look. + +"No. I should like to hear what he has to say on the subject, the more +so as I incline to his story rather than to your mother's." + +"For what reason?" + +"In her conversation with you, Mrs. Bezel--or rather your mother--said +that she had threatened your father with the dagger in the sitting room +of The Laurels." + +"Yes. Well?" + +"If you remember the evidence given by her to the police at the time of +the arrest was that she had lost the dagger at the ball, and knew not +into whose hands it had fallen." + +Claude looked nonplussed, and knew not what answer to make. That his +mother had made two different statements he was compelled to admit. He +further remembered that his father had made no statement whatsoever +about the dagger. Yet on the possession of that dagger turned the whole +of the case. Whoever picked it up, whether at the ball or in the sitting +room, must have killed Jeringham. Assuming his father's account to be +true, and Claude saw no reason to doubt its accuracy, Mona could not +have committed the murder, nor could Mr. or Mrs. Larcher be guilty. It +therefore followed that his mother had spoken truly to the police, and +for some inexplicable reason falsely to him. The dagger must have been +lost at the ball, and picked up by--whom? + +"I can make nothing of it," he said, after due consideration. "The only +way to get at the truth is to tell my father that his wife still lives, +and bring them together. Out of their meeting good may come." + +"You will then call and see your father," said Tait encouragingly. + +"Yes. I must. I see no way out of it. He must be informed that my mother +lives, and I am the proper person to tell him so. Though it is strange," +added Claude suddenly, "that Hilliston never told him." + +"Humph! That gentleman seems to serve both sides," said Tait gruffly. +"Your mother speaks well of him, your father thinks no end of him, and +both trust him, yet for what I can see he has deceived both." + +"How?" + +"Why, by keeping back the truth from each. He has let your father think +your mother dead, and _vice versa_. What do you make of that?" + +"I tell you I can make nothing of the whole confusion," said Claude +crossly. "I will see my father and abandon the case, for I am sick of +the affair. It is maddening. What a pity your lunatic did not wake up a +few minutes earlier so as to see who struck the blow and thus have +settled the matter? But it is not that which troubles me." + +"No? What else disturbs your mind?" + +"Jenny." + +"Jenny?" echoed Tait, with feigned simplicity. "I am afraid I am dull. I +don't see." + +"You must be blind, then," retorted Claude, in an exasperated tone. "You +know I love Jenny." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I can't love her. She is my half sister." + +"Indeed!" said Tait, in nowise astonished at this announcement. "How do +you make that out?" + +"Why, isn't Jenny the daughter of Paynton, and isn't he my father?" + +"He is your father, certainly, but I assure you Jenny is not his +daughter. She is no relation to him." + +"Tait! what do you mean?" + +"Can't you guess?" + +"No. Out with it, man! Don't keep me in suspense." + +"Why," drawled Tait, enjoying the situation. "Jenny is the niece of +Denis--in other words, she is the child of Mona Bantry and Jeringham." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIX. + + THE GARNET SCARFPIN. + + +THAT same evening Claude called to see his father. He decided to go +alone, but asked Tait to repair to Rose Cottage within the hour, so +that, the meeting with his newly found parent having taken place, a +consultation could be held by the three regarding the proceeding with, +or withdrawing, of the case. Tait especially stipulated that this +arrangement should be come to, as he was desirous of seeing Mr. Larcher, +senior, in order to disabuse his mind of the straight-forwardness of +Hilliston. Privately, Tait believed that the lawyer would yet be found +guilty of the crime. On no other grounds could he explain the attitude +taken up by Hilliston since the papers had been placed in Claude's +hands. The evidence of Miss Pike and Dick Pental failed to alter his +idea on this point. + +Tait himself was beginning to feel weary of the investigation. At every +turn it took he was baffled by some fresh obstacle, and he was not +ill-pleased to find that the matter was at an end so far as Claude was +concerned. That young man had sworn to avenge the death of his father; +but now that his father proved to be still in existence, the oath was +null and void. So that, Claude married to Jenny, he would be quite +willing to leave the solution of the mystery surrounding the death of +Jeringham to Tait; but Tait himself determined to have nothing further +to do with so wearisome a problem. + +He waited considerably beyond the hour before leaving for the cottage, +as he rightly considered the father and son would have much to say to +one another. Moreover it was necessary to give Larcher time to overcome +his emotion on learning that his wife was still in existence. Tait was +by no means sure that the old gentleman would be pleased with this +revelation. According to his own showing his relations with his wife had +been none of the best; and to renew those relations after twenty-five +years could hardly fail to be most unpleasant. + +During this time Tait gave no thought to Jenny or Denis. As to the +former, he was so satisfied that she was the daughter of Jeringham by +Mona Bantry that he did not think it worth while to give the matter the +benefit of the doubt. What he was curious to know was how Paynton, or +rather Captain Larcher, came to stand in the position of an adopted +father. Information on this point was conveyed to him before he reached +the cottage by Denis himself. + +The old servant walked briskly along the road, looking quite +rejuvenated. He had heard the good news, and it had transformed his +life. In place of a crabbed expression, his face appeared wonderfully +cheerful, and he saluted Tait with a grin of pleasure. The other could +not forbear commenting on his changed appearance, so clearly apparent +even in the waning light of evening. + +"Why, Kerry, you look ten years younger," he said, stopping short in his +amazement, with an afterthought of Dick Pental's accusation. + +"Ah, and I do that same, sir," said Denis, saluting in military fashion, +"and you know why, sir." + +"Are they reconciled?" asked Tait, guessing what was in the mind of the +old servant. + +"Begad, they are! Chattering together like two love birds, and my old +master looking on with pride." + +"Why, Kerry, I spoke of Captain Larcher." + +"Augh, did you now, sir? I spoke of Master Claude, God bless him, and +Miss Jenny, God bless her! God bless them both!" cried Kerry, taking off +his hat, with a burst of affection, "and his honor along with them. Oh, +glory be to the saints for this blessed day. But sure, I am forgetting +my service, sir. The master is waiting to see you this very minute." + +"I was just on my way," said Tait, signing to Kerry to go on. "We will +walk there together. By the way, does Miss Jenny know she is not the +daughter of your master?" + +"She knew it all along, sir. Ah, and why should you look surprised at +that, Mr. Tait? Is it because she is the niece of an old soldier like +me?" + +"No, no, Kerry! But, as you are aware, Miss Jenny knows the case from +those newspapers she found; and in that report Jeringham----" + +"I see what you mean, sir," said Kerry, touching his hat in a +deprecating manner; "but sure she doesn't know all. She believes herself +to be the child of my sister, Mona--who is dead, rest her soul, and of a +Mr. Kennedy. We've invented a father for her, sir. 'Twould never do for +her to know she was the daughter of the poor man who was killed." + +"It is just as well, Kerry. Do you know who killed him?" Tait asked this +question with a keen glance at the man. + +"No, sir. How should I know. I ran out with the light when the captain +called, but I don't know who struck him the cruel blow. He was a bad +man, sir, deceiving my sister, and disgracing the Bantry family, but he +is dead, and she is dead, so we'll let them rest, and the heavens be +their bed!" + +By this time they were at the garden door, and striking his hand over +these sad memories Kerry led the visitor into the house, and showed him +into the bookroom. Here were assembled Claude, his father, and Jenny, +all looking supremely happy, though the old gentleman appeared to be +rather shaken. He rose when Tait entered and held out his hand. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Tait," said he, in an unsteady voice, "and I +thank you for the way in which you have aided my son. I feel that an +apology is due to you for my behavior on your last visit." + +"Don't mention it," replied Tait cordially, shaking the extended hand. +"Under the circumstances you could not act otherwise. Well, Miss +Paynton, am I to----" + +"Don't call me Miss Paynton now, Mr. Tait," she said, smiling; "there +can be no need for further concealment. I can take my own name, that +of----" + +"Miss Kennedy," said Tait quickly. "Do not look so surprised. Kerry told +me all about it as I came along. I am at once astonished and delighted." + +"I don't wonder at it," said Captain Larcher, patting Claude's hand. +"You see I have found a son." + +"And soon, sir, you will lose a daughter," observed Tait significantly. + +"Oh, no," observed Claude, with a laugh; "when I marry Jenny we will all +live together as a happy family." + +"Marriage! Has it come to that?" + +"You are astonished, I see, Mr. Tait," said the old gentleman, shaking +his head. "I am myself. It is too soon--too sudden. They have only known +each other a few weeks, and it is impossible that a union on so short an +acquaintance can prove happy." + +"We will have a long engagement," said Claude, "in order to prove if we +truly love one another. But I am not afraid of the result." + +"Neither am I," remarked Jenny, slipping her arm within that of her +lover. "I am sure nothing will come between us. But come, Claude, and we +will see my uncle, for I notice that Mr. Tait is anxious to speak to +your father about that horrid case." + +Captain Larcher nodded his approval of this, so Claude and Jenny left +the room to seek Kerry, and be wept over by the old servant. Left alone +with his host, Tait took a chair by the table, and they looked at one +another in silence. The captain was the first to break it. + +"There is no need for me to recapitulate the events of the day," he +said, with a weary sigh, "as Claude told me you read my letter, and are +in possession of all the facts. You may believe, Mr. Tait, that I feel +considerably shaken. My interview with Claude has been rather trying. He +has behaved in the most affectionate manner." + +"Well, now your troubles are all at an end, Captain Larcher, and----" + +"At an end, sir!" he interrupted sharply. "No, they will continue. My +innocence is not yet proved, and I must still remain here under a +feigned name, unless you agree to help me." + +"Certainly I agree. Is it your intention and Claude's to go on with the +case?" + +"We have come to that decision, but I wanted to consult you before +finally making up my mind. Do you think we ought to proceed?" + +"I certainly do," said Tait promptly. "It is true that the police think +that you are the victim. But if you want to assume your own name, +inquiries would certainly be made. One is never safe in these criminal +matters, even after the lapse of years. If you did declare yourself to +be Captain Larcher, then it would come out that Jeringham is dead, and +you would have to clear yourself. Besides, the evidence of Dicky Pental +would implicate you, seeing that he mistook you in that fancy dress for +Jeringham." + +"True enough," replied Larcher, nodding. "And there is another reason. I +have just learned that my wife is still alive, and is protected by +Hilliston at Hampstead. I sent Claude out of the room so that I could +ask you a plain question. Give me a plain answer, and tell me what are +the relations between them." + +"I don't care to answer that plainly," said Tait, with some hesitation; +"but I think you can guess." + +"Does Hilliston love my wife?" + +"On the authority of Miss Belinda Pike, whom I saw at Horriston, I +believe he does." + +"And for her sake he had deceived me all these years?" + +"It seems so. In fact, Captain Larcher, Hilliston has been playing a +double game. He kept you and your wife apart by assuring each that the +other was dead. That conduct alone stamps him as a villain. Then, again, +he threw all kinds of obstacles in the way while we were investigating +this case." + +"What for?" + +"My own opinion is that Hilliston committed the murder." + +Captain Larcher clenched his hand, and thought for a few moments. + +"It might be so," he muttered, more to himself than to Tait. "Hilliston +was in the garden. If he loved my wife--a fact which I never +suspected--he might have killed Jeringham out of jealousy." + +"But the dagger! How did he obtain that?" + +"No doubt at the ball. I assure you, Mr. Tait, that my wife had not the +dagger when in the sitting room." + +"She declares that she threatened you with it." + +"Then she either forgets or speaks falsely. She wore it at the ball when +I spoke to her there, but when she returned it was missing. Hilliston +came with me, knowing Jeringham was with my wife. He might have picked +up the dagger with the fullest intention of committing the crime. Now +that I know he loved my wife I am not prepared to say how he acted in +the garden while I was in the house." + +"And the garnet scarfpin mentioned in the novel?" + +"That belonged to Hilliston," said Larcher quickly. "I gave it to him +myself. Denis picked it up in the garden, but I thought nothing of that, +as I was aware Hilliston was in the grounds on that night. But now I +believe----Oh, I am afraid to say what I believe. I may be wrong." + +"There is one way of finding out the truth, Captain Larcher. Come up to +town this week and see your wife. Then we may learn all." + +The old gentleman leaned his head on his hand in deep thought for a few +minutes. + +"I will come," he said at length. "At whatever cost, I will force the +guilty woman to own the truth." + + + + + CHAPTER XL. + + FACE TO FACE. + + +THE conversation between Tait and Captain Larcher was not finished that +evening, as the old gentleman, worn out by the excitement of the day, +early retired to bed. However, he declared that he would be shortly +ready to journey to London; and Claude left the Cottage with Tait on the +understanding that his father was to be called for next day. Before they +parted for the night Claude made a remark about Hilliston. + +"I hope he won't get wind of this," he said dubiously; "or he may get +Mrs. Bezel--I can't call her mother--out of the way." + +"Have no fear," replied Tait calmly. "Hilliston's hands are too full at +present." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why," said Tait, lighting his candle; "your father showed me a letter +from Hilliston, apologizing for not coming over, as his wife was lying +dangerously ill at the Connaught Hotel, at Eastbourne." + +"He said something of that in his note to me. What is the matter with +Mrs. Hilliston?" + +"She has the smallpox." + +"The smallpox!" echoed Claude, in a tone of horror. "Poor creature, she +is a dead woman!" + +"I don't know so much about that. She may recover." + +"She may recover from the disease," said the young man gloomily; "but +not from the blow to her vanity. Many a time has she told me that if she +lost her looks she would kill herself. You mark my words, Tait, within +the week we will hear of her death." + +And with these prophetic words Claude retired to his room. + +Tait had no time to think of this conversation, being occupied with +anticipation regarding the meeting of Captain Larcher and his wife; but +it so happened that Claude's prognostications occurred to him when the +truth of the Horriston tragedy was discovered, and that was not long +afterward. Perhaps, like the young men, Fate herself grew weary of an +affair which had dragged on for twenty-five years. At all events she +brought matters to a conclusion with almost inconceivable rapidity. + +The first step toward the end was the meeting of husband and wife, which +took place at Clarence Cottage, Hampstead, during the afternoon of the +next day. In company with his son and Tait, the old gentleman drove to +the railway station, some three miles distant, and took the up express. +When established comfortably in a first-class smoking carriage--for +Captain Larcher was fond of a pipe--he resumed the conversation with +Tait which had been broken off on the previous night. This time the +subject was Hilliston and his doings. + +"I have been thinking over your suspicions regarding Hilliston," he +said, addressing himself more directly to Tait, "and I confess that it +is difficult to reconcile some of his actions with your view that he is +guilty. Claude, as you know, was ignorant of the Horriston tragedy until +enlightened by Hilliston." + +"I know that, my dear sir," said Tait quietly, "Hilliston certainly +placed the papers containing the account of the matter in Claude's +hands, but he was forced to do so by the action of Mrs. Bezel--I beg +pardon, Mrs. Larcher." + +"Continue to call her Mrs. Bezel, if you please. I prefer it so. How did +she force Hilliston to confide in Claude." + +"Because she read the book 'A Whim of Fate,' and seeing the tragedy +therein described, she wrote asking Claude to see her with the intention +of telling him all. As you may guess, her story differs materially from +that of Hilliston's, so of two evils, choosing the least, he determined +to forestall her and inform Claude of the matter." + +"And he did so by means of the press," said Claude eagerly. "In place of +telling me the story himself he allowed me to gather what information I +could from the scanty report of the _Canterbury Observer_. My dear +father, the Genesis of the whole matter springs from the finding of +those papers by Jenny. Had she not read them and told Linton the story +he would not have written the book; had he not done so Mrs. Bezel would +not have determined to tell me her version; and but for her threat to do +so Hilliston would not have produced the papers." + +"Humph! The action was compulsory on the part of Hilliston?" + +"I think so, sir," said Tait complacently; "therefore it is quite in +keeping with his usual character. The rat did not fight till it was +driven into a corner." + +"It is not in the corner," remarked Captain Larcher significantly, "but +we'll drive it there and see if it will face our accusation. But what +about Hilliston's introduction of Claude to me? Would it not have been +to his interest to keep us apart?" + +"Oh!" said Tait, with some contempt for Hilliston's diplomacy, "that was +another case of necessity. He knew that Claude and I were bent on +discovering the truth, so, fearing that we should do so by further +investigation, he thought to stop the whole matter by bringing you face +to face with your son." + +"I don't see how that would accomplish his aim." + +"Hilliston hoped it would do so in two ways," explained Tait glibly. +"First, he hoped that you would give your consent to Claude marrying +Jenny, and so lead his mind away from the case, and second, he trusted +that when Claude found you alive he would no longer desire to pursue the +investigation." + +"He was right so far," said Claude seriously. + +"If that was Hilliston's calculation, he made one great mistake," said +Captain Larcher scornfully. "He did not think that I should wish to see +my wife." + +"He must have been satisfied that Claude would tell you she was alive." + +"That, of course. But he thought I would stay at Thorston as Ferdinand +Paynton, and be afraid to admit my identity even to my wife. I might +have done so but for Claude. But I owe it to him to clear myself, and +this meeting with my wife will be the first step toward doing so. +Between us we must solve the mystery." + +"It is none, so far as I am concerned," said Tait grimly. "I am sure as +I am sitting here that Hilliston murdered Jeringham. The gardener was +just too late to see him do the deed." + +"But his motive?" asked Claude curiously. + +His father and Tait stole a glance at one another. They neither of them +wished to make any remarks about Mrs. Larcher and Hilliston's passion, +preferring that Claude should be ignorant of that episode. Still when he +asked so direct a question it was difficult to avoid a direct answer, +but Larcher gave him one which was sufficiently evasive to stop further +inquiries. + +"We must try and find out his motive," he said quietly. "Depend upon it, +Claude, there is a good deal of underhand work in this of which we know +nothing." + +"Do you think Mona committed the crime?" + +"No, I do not. In no way could she have gained possession of the dagger +with which it was committed." + +"My mother says she had a dagger in the sitting room." + +"That is a mistake," said Captain Larcher, using as delicate a word as +he could think of. "She threatened me with the sheath of the dagger, and +no doubt, being agitated at the time, she thought it was the weapon +itself. But I noticed when she entered the room that the sheath was +empty. Her story to the police at the time of the trial is more likely. +She lost it in the ballroom. The question is, who picked it up? Judging +from the knowledge I now have of his character I believe it was +Hilliston who did so." + +"Or Jeringham," said Tait suddenly. + +"Impossible! How could Jeringham have found it?" + +"He was with Mrs. Larcher all the evening, and may have seen the dagger +fall. Or again, he may have taken it out of the sheath to examine it and +have forgotten to return it. It is not improbable that in such a case he +might have recollected it when he was in the garden, and offered it to +Mona to return to her mistress." + +"Oh!" said Claude with contempt. "And on that slight ground you suppose +that Mona killed him?" + +"It is not beyond the bounds of probability." + +"Nonsense!" said Captain Larcher angrily. "I don't believe it. Mona was +a good girl, foully deceived by Jeringham. She fled from the house to +hide her disgrace, thinking my wife would tell her brother. Hilliston +afterward met her in London, where she died in giving birth to Jenny." + +"Then it was Hilliston who brought Jenny to you?" + +"Yes. Because her Uncle Denis was in my service. I adopted Jenny, but +told her that she was the child of a Mr. Kennedy and Mona Bantry. She +believed her father and mother were married, so do not disturb that view +of the case." + +"Certainly not," said Tait emphatically. "It would be cruel to do so. +But here we are at Victoria. After seeing Mrs. Bezel at Hampstead we can +resume our conversation." + +"If we do it will be from a different standpoint, I fancy," said Larcher +significantly, as the train stopped. + +Tait's brougham was waiting for them at the station, and in this they +drove up to Hampstead. Leaving it in Fitzjohn's Avenue they walked down +Hunt Lane to Clarence Cottage. Mrs. Bezel occupied her usual seat in the +window, and caught sight of Claude as he preceded his father and Tait up +the path. A terrified expression crossed her face, but she made no +motion to forbid their entrance. Yet a sense of coming evil struck at +her heart, and it needed all her self-control to prevent herself from +fainting when they were shown into the room. + +"My dear mother," said Claude, kissing her, "you must be prepared for +unexpected news. I beg of you to control yourself for----" + +He stopped short in astonishment. Mrs. Bezel was looking at Captain +Larcher with a bewildered air, and he gazed at her face with an +expression of amazement. She shrank back as he crossed the room with +rapidity, and bent over her. + +"Mona Bantry!" he cried, "is it possible that you still live?" + + + + + CHAPTER XLI. + + AN EXPLANATION. + + +ON hearing his father's exclamation Claude turned round with a look of +supreme astonishment. He could not understand the meaning of that sudden +exclamation. + +"Father, you do not understand. This is your wife--my mother." + +"Is it, indeed?" sneered Captain Larcher, who had recovered from his +momentary emotion. "Nothing of the sort, sir. This woman is Mona Bantry, +who was my wife's maid." + +"Are you sure?" cried Tait, who was beginning to be bewildered by these +successive revelations. + +"Sure, sir! as sure as I am of my own innocence. As sure as I am George +Larcher, this is the sister of Denis Bantry, who----" + +"Denis!" + +The interruption came from Mrs. Bezel. She had sat dumfounded at the +unexpected appearance of the man whom she had thought dead, and she had +said nothing while assertion and denial were going on, but the mention +of her brother's name stirred her dormant faculties, and she sat up +looking wildly around. + +"Denis!" she cried, in a terrified tone. "Is Denis here?" + +"Denis is down at Thorston," said Captain Larcher gruffly, "as you no +doubt knew well enough." + +"I swear I did not. Francis told me Denis was in America." + +"Francis?" exclaimed Claude, forgetting to whom the name belonged. + +"Francis Hilliston." + +"Ah!" said Captain Larcher, with a disdainful look round. "I might have +guessed as much. Off with the dead love, on with the living. You have +amended the proverb." + +"I did not know Mark was dead, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Bezel passionately. +"Francis said that he had gone to America with Denis. I thought he had +done so to escape the consequences of his crime, but----" + +"Of his crime!" cried Claude. "He was the victim, poor soul, not the +murderer. It was Jeringham who was killed, not my father." + +"Your father?" said Mrs. Bezel, looking steadily at Captain Larcher. +"Yes; it is my old master. So you are alive and he is dead. Why did you +kill him, sir?" + +"I did not kill him," replied the captain quietly, "and as a counter +question, may I ask why you passed yourself off to Claude as my wife?" + +Mrs. Bezel burst into a wild laugh, and clapped her hands together. Then +she covered her face and commenced to weep, but in a few moments the fit +of hysteria passed away, and she became cool and composed. Thrown off +her balance for the time being, she had now gathered her wits together, +and was ready to fight. Her folly and impulse had brought about this +catastrophe, and it was her duty to set it right again--if she could. +But the upshot of the matter was extremely doubtful. + +On his part, Captain Larcher was relieved to find that Mrs. Bezel proved +to be Mona Bantry instead of his wife. Ever since the communication made +by Claude, he had suffered agonies at the thought that his wife had been +living all these years under the protection of his false friend. Now +that fear was set at rest once and forever. Julia Larcher had really +died, as Hilliston had asserted, and the woman in Clarence Cottage, who +had taken her name, was the maid in place of the mistress. Out of all +the trouble Larcher extracted this morsel of comfort, his honor was +unstained. + +Meanwhile the three visitors sat waiting to hear what Mrs. Bezel had to +say. She saw that they expected a confession, and resolved to disappoint +them. Leaning backward among her cushions, she closed her eyes, and +played a waiting game. It proved successful, for in two minutes or +thereabouts Captain Larcher broke out. His temper was none of the best, +and recent events had not tended to improve it." + +"Well, madam," he said sharply, rapping his stick on the ground, "I am +waiting to hear what you have to say." + +"I have nothing to say," said Mrs. Bezel quietly. + +"Oh, yes, you have," began Tait. "As you set the ball----" + +But at this moment he was interrupted by Larcher. + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Tait, but I will question this woman myself. +Pray do not speak, nor you, Claude, till I have done." + +Both young men bowed their heads and acquiesced in silence. After all, +the captain was the proper person to examine Mona Bantry. He knew more +of the case than anyone else, and conversant as he was with the events +of that fatal night, he would know whether she spoke truly or falsely. +Mrs. Bezel looked uneasy on hearing his resolution, but only compressed +her lips tighter as though resolved to let nothing escape her. But he +was a match for her in obstinacy. + +"Now then," said Larcher, turning to her, "relate your history from the +moment you left me alone with my wife twenty-five years ago at The +Laurels." + +"It would not help you if I did." + +"I'm not so sure of that. But I understand. You are afraid of +incriminating yourself." + +"I!" exclaimed Mrs. Bezel indignantly. "What have I to do with the +matter. I know nothing of it. I left the house then and there, and only +heard of the tragedy while I was concealed at Horriston, more than a +week afterward." + +"Why did you state to my son that Mrs. Larcher threatened me with the +dagger." + +"So she did," said Mrs. Bezel coolly. "I saw her hand raised, I saw the +dagger in it." + +"You saw the sheath of the dagger, you mean," retorted Larcher; "it fell +on the floor and was found there next day. But the weapon with which the +crime was committed was lost by my wife at the ball." + +"It may have been," said the woman indifferently. "I don't know anything +about it." + +"Did not Jeringham show it to you when you joined him in the garden?" + +"I tell you I did not see him on that night. When you found out my +secret, I was afraid that you and the mistress would betray it to my +brother Denis, so I left the room and fled. I thought Jeringham would +join me at Horriston next day, but then I heard of your supposed death, +and that he had fled. Until this hour I did not know that it was the +other way round." + +"Did not Hilliston tell you? He knew." + +"No, Captain Larcher, he did not," said Mrs. Bezel emphatically. "He +said that Jeringham had gone to America with my brother." + +"Where did you go after leaving Horriston?" + +"I came to London, and remained there till my baby was born." + +"And then?" + +"I found that my money had come to an end, and called at Mr. Hilliston's +office to ask him to help me." + +"What right had you to expect help from him." + +"I had no right, but that I knew he would assist me because of his +love." + +"His love!" exclaimed Larcher sharply. "Did Hilliston love you?" + +"Yes; I refused to have anything to do with him on account of Jeringham. +But he did love me. Oh, yes, I know you thought he was in love with your +wife, but such was not the case. He loved me, and me only." + +Larcher drew a long breath, and looked puzzled. He was relieved to find +that he had not been mistaken in Hilliston, after all, yet the assertion +of Mrs. Bezel only seemed to further complicate the case. If Hilliston +did not love Mrs. Larcher, what possible motive could he have to kill +Jeringham? The looks of Claude and Tait reflected his perplexity; but +dismissing this special point for the moment, he pursued his +examination. + +"How did Hilliston receive you?" + +Mrs. Bezel looked around with a bitter smile. Her meaning was clear from +the contemptuous expression on her face. + +"Can you not guess from what you see here?" she said quietly. "Francis +Hilliston bought me. He loved me well enough, but not sufficiently to +marry me. He did not ruin me, for I was already ruined. I accepted his +offer to come here and be his mistress. What else could I do? I was +alone in London. I was friendless. I believed that my lover and my +brother had fled to America. I could not return to Horriston lest I +might be involved in the tragedy at The Laurels. I did what any other +woman would have done, and made the best of a bad business. I accepted +the love and protection of Francis Hilliston. The protection still +continues, as you see--the love, that is dead and done with." + +"I see you are thinking of Louisa Sinclair," interposed Tait quietly. + +"What do you know of Louisa Sinclair?" asked Mrs. Bezel, with a violent +start. + +"Everything, thanks to you," answered Tait. "Your letter put the clew +into my head. I went to Horriston; I saw a portrait of Miss Sinclair. I +know that she went to America after the tragedy, and returned as Mrs. +Derrick, rich and beautiful, to marry Hilliston." + +"Ah, you know that much. Yes! Louisa Sinclair is my rival! Ten years ago +she came back to England and wanted Francis to marry her. I fell ill--I +became paralyzed. He forgot me, he forgot my love, and she became his +wife. Oh, how I hate her! I hate him. It was on that account that I +wrote to you, Claude, to reveal all." + +"You then acted out of revenge!" + +"Yes, I did!" said Mrs. Bezel sullenly. "Look at me, a wreck; look at +her, his wife, rich and handsome and healthy." + +"Not healthy, poor soul," said Claude. "She is ill with the smallpox." + +"With the smallpox," echoed Mrs. Bezel joyfully. "I'm glad of it! I'm +glad of it! Her beauty will depart, as mine has done. Then Francis may +come back to me." + +"You love him still?" asked Captain Larcher, in wonderment. + +"Too well to ruin him. You want me to accuse him of the crime, but I +tell you he is innocent; he knows nothing." + +"He was in the garden alone on that night. None other but he----" + +"He was not alone," cried Mrs. Bezel sharply. "Louisa Sinclair was with +him. Yes, she followed him from the ball because she was jealous of me. +In my flight I passed her at the gate. She had a cloak over her dress, +but I saw that it was the costume of Mary, Queen of Scots." + +"And you knew her by that?" + +"Partly. My mistress told me that Miss Sinclair had a similar costume to +her own, for she was very angry about it. But I saw her face as I fled. +She may know who killed Jeringham. I do not. Hilliston does not. Now, I +have told you all. Go away and leave me. I speak no more." + +"First tell us why you declared yourself to be my mother?" said Claude +sharply. + +"For safety. I regretted that I had told you; that I had forced +Hilliston into defending himself. I was afraid lest you should learn too +much and denounce me as the criminal. So long as you thought I was your +mother you would not dare to do so, and therefore I told you I was Mrs. +Larcher." + +"One last word," said Captain Larcher, rising to his feet. "Your child. +What became of it?" + +"Hilliston took it away," said Mrs. Bezel, in a melancholy tone. "I was +ill at the time and he overcame my scruples. I don't know where my child +is. Often and often have I wanted to see her again, but Francis has +always refused. Oh, where can she be?" + +"I can tell you." + +"You?" cried Mrs. Bezel, starting up in amazement. + +"Yes. Your daughter Jenny was brought by Hilliston to me. I adopted her +as my child, and she is now at Thorston with her Uncle Denis--your +brother." + +Mrs. Bezel tried to speak, but could not. With a wild glance around she +heaved a long sigh and fainted. The joy of hearing that her child was +alive proved too much for her enfeebled frame. + + + + + CHAPTER XLII. + + THE TRAGEDY OF A WOMAN'S VANITY. + + +MEANTIME Hilliston, unaware of that fatal meeting with Mona Bantry, +which threatened to demoralize his plans, was devoting himself to his +unfortunate wife. She was very ill, and not expected to recover, so +feeling that he would soon lose her, the lawyer stayed constantly by her +side, and strove, though unsuccessfully, to ameliorate her cruel +sufferings. It was all the more credit to him that he did so, as he had +married her mainly for her money, and was still in love with Mrs. Bezel. +No doubt, remorse had something to do with his present attitude. + +The landlord of the Connaught Hotel had insisted upon Mrs. Hilliston +being removed when the first symptoms of disease showed themselves. He +declared that were it known that he had a smallpox patient in his house, +he would be ruined for the season, so Hilliston, recognizing the truth +of this assertion, took steps to isolate his wife, as was necessary from +the nature of her illness. Assisted by the doctor, who attended to all +details relative to the municipal authorities, he hired a small house on +the outskirts of Eastbourne, and thither the wreck of what had once been +a beautiful woman was removed one evening. Nurses were hired from +London, Hilliston sent word to his partner that he would not return to +business for some weeks; and then began the slow martyrdom of the +sickroom. + +It was a fortnight since Mrs. Hilliston had been seized with the +disease, and now it had taken so favorable a turn that the doctor held +out great hopes that she would recover. But the beauty of which she had +been so proud was gone, and with it went the hopes that she could still +retain her husband by her side. Mrs. Hilliston knew well enough that it +was only her persistence which had made Hilliston marry her, and now +that she had lost her good looks--the one hold she had on his lukewarm +affection--she foresaw only too clearly that he would neglect her in the +future. Moreover, the woman's vanity was so powerful that she could not +accept calmly the possibility of surviving, a scarred and maimed object, +to face looks of pity and of horror. She felt that she would rather die, +and in fact resolved to do so. Meanwhile she tossed and turned, and +moaned and wept on her sick bed; crying out against the stern Fate which +had dealt her such hard measure. Yet in her secret soul she admitted +that the punishment was just. + +Hilliston was scarcely less unhappy than his wife. While her illness was +serious, he had thought of nothing but how to save her, but now that a +chance of recovery offered a respite from his arduous attendance by the +sick bed, he had time to turn his thoughts toward the Horriston tragedy. +He wondered that he had not heard from Paynton relative to the interview +with Claude, and, fearful lest some untoward event had occurred to upset +his plans, he wrote to Rose Cottage asking for information. To-day he +had received a reply, and on reading it saw his worst fears realized. + +"I know you now [wrote Captain Larcher briefly]. I have seen Claude; I +have seen Mona. Henceforth I look upon you as an enemy, and I intend to +take immediate steps to clear my name at your expense." + + * * * * * + +There was no signature, but Hilliston was too well acquainted with his +friend's writing to have any doubt as to the genuineness of the letter. +The blow had fallen; Mona had betrayed him, and he sat there helpless, +with the letter in his hand, a spectacle of baffled scheming, of +unmasked villany. + +"To clear his name at my expense," muttered Hilliston to himself. "What +does he mean by that? He cannot have discovered--but no, that is +impossible. When they find out who picked up that dagger at the ball, +they may learn the truth, but not till then. I defy them all. Larcher +will remain Paynton till the end of his life. Mona! Ah, I shall punish +her when I return to town for her cruel treachery." + +While he was thus thinking, a nurse entered the room to intimate that +Mrs. Hilliston would like to see him. The lawyer obeyed the summons at +once, placed Larcher's letter in his pocket, smoothed his brow, and +entered the sickroom. Signing to the nurse to go away, Mrs. Hilliston +waited till she was alone with her husband. + +"Francis," she said in a low voice, stretching out her hand, "I wish to +speak to you--on that subject." + +"I think it would be wise if you refrained from doing so," replied +Hilliston, knowing to what she alluded. "We understand one another on +that point; you can do no good by bringing it up again. Why should you?" + +"For Claude's sake," said Mrs. Hilliston feverishly. "You owe him some +reparation." + +"I owe him none, Louisa. I have acted like a father to him, and he has +turned on me. I helped Larcher to hide himself when it was dangerous for +him to become known, and he tells me that I am his enemy." + +"Have you heard from him?" + +"I received a curt note of three lines intimating that he was about to +assert his innocence, and clear his name at my expense." + +"Francis," cried Mrs. Hilliston, in a tone of terror, "you are lost! If +all is known----" + +"All will not be known," replied Hilliston, patting her hand; "only two +people know the truth--you and I. We can keep our own counsel." + +"But that little man, Tait, is at Horriston." + +"What of that?" + +"He will see Belinda Pike there. You know how she hated me because I +loved you. She wanted to marry you herself. If he meets Miss Pike she +will speak against me." + +"What of that?" said Hilliston soothingly. "You forget, my dear, that +your life is different now. No one can find Louisa Sinclair in Louisa +Hilliston. When you went to America you vanished and returned as Mrs. +Derrick, the rich widow. Belinda Pike can never learn that. My dear, you +distress yourself suddenly. We are perfectly safe." + +"But the garnet scarfpin," questioned Mrs. Hilliston feverishly. + +"I am secure on that point. Larcher knew that I was in the garden on +that night, and may have thought I dropped it. He will not dare to +accuse me of the crime. If he did," continued Hilliston, his brow +growing black, "I could turn the tables on him in a manner he little +expects. There is more evidence against him than against me." + +"But if they learn that I was with you on that night?" + +"They will never learn. No one saw you there. If they did, what does it +matter? Louisa Sinclair is dead. You need have no fear of being +recognized. I'll answer for that." + +"It does not matter to me if I am known or not," said Mrs. Hilliston +gloomily; "I have done with life." + +"My dear, the doctor says you will recover." + +"I shall not recover," said the sick woman, with emphasis. "Oh, do not +deceive yourself, Francis! I shall never rise from this sick bed to be +an object of horror and pity to you." + +"My dear----" + +"You never loved me. You only married me out of pity. At Horriston you +refused to make me your wife, and it was only when I returned from +America a rich woman that you did so. Pity," she said, with a scornful +laugh, "no, not pity, but necessity. You would have been ruined but for +my money." + +"I admit it, Louisa, and I am deeply grateful to you for the way in +which you have helped me. I can never repay you for saving my name and +credit." + +"You can, Francis. Get me my dressing case." + +"Louisa, you cannot----" + +"I insist upon being obeyed," she said imperiously. "Get me my dressing +case." + +With great reluctance he brought it from a distant table and placed it +on a chair by the bedside. In obedience to her directions he opened it, +and took therefrom a sealed envelope. + +"In there," she said, as he held it in his hand, "is an account of all I +saw on that fatal night. You must send that letter to Captain Larcher +when I am dead." + +"Louisa, do you wish to ruin me?" + +"I wish to save you, Francis. Do not deceive yourself into a belief that +the investigation is at an end. Claude may cease to meddle with the +matter, for he is in love with Jenny, and will probably marry her, for +by this time, according to you, he knows who she is. But I am afraid of +Spenser Tait. He will hunt you down; he will urge Larcher to find out +the truth. If it comes to that, send them my account of the matter." + +"It will ruin me," he said again. + +"It will save you," she repeated. "Do not be foolish, Francis. You can +read it before sending it away." + +"But you?" + +"I shall be dead. I feel sure I shall not live. Promise me that if the +worst comes you will send that letter." + +"I promise," he said, sorely against his will, "but it will not be sent: +you will live." + +"I don't think so, Francis. I know better than the doctor. Now kiss me, +my husband, and leave me to myself." + +He did so in silence, and took up the dressing-case, whereupon she +stopped him. "Let it be," she said quietly: "some of your letters are in +it, and I wish to read them. Kiss me again." + +Again he kissed her, and reluctantly left the room. So quiet and self +contained was she that he had no inkling of her intention. Had he +guessed her fatal resolve, little as was the love he bore her, he would +surely have striven to turn her from her purpose. But he guessed +nothing, and left her alone, with the devil tempting her. + +Good-by, my husband!" she murmured, as the door closed, and then burst +into tears. He had gone, she would never see him again, and she moaned +over her lost beauty which failed to retain him by her side. He was +coldly polite; he was affectionate out of pity, but he had no love for +her, and she hungered for the want of it. Her life passed before her, +episode after episode, till it stopped short at the spectacle of a +closed door, and herself lying alone and deserted in that sickroom. + +She wept and prayed, and then, with a firm hand, took out of her +dressing case a small vial filled with a dark brown liquid. Twice she +put it to her lips, and twice she hesitated; the third time she +accomplished her purpose. The thought of her lost beauty, of her +husband's neglect, of her childless home and wretched future, all these +nerved her, and she drank off the contents, then quickly replaced the +bottle in the dressing case. + +When the nurse came in to see her patient, Mrs. Hilliston was lying back +with a quiet smile on her pale lips. She had found peace at last. + + + + + CHAPTER XLIII. + + THE LAST APPEARANCE OF FRANCIS HILLISTON. + + +UNAWARE of the tragedy which had taken place at Eastbourne, Captain +Larcher was in London brooding over his wrongs, and weaving schemes how +to avenge himself on Hilliston. His eyes had been opened by Tait with +regard to the conduct of that gentleman, and he now saw plainly that he +had been Hilliston's dupe for all these years. Indeed, he began to share +Tait's opinion that the lawyer was guilty, and was casting about in his +own mind how to prove this, when an announcement in the papers informed +him of the death of Mrs. Hilliston. + +"The smallpox killed her, no doubt," said Tait, when he had expressed +his regrets. + +"No!" remarked Claude, who had been looking over the general news. "It +was a case of suicide." + +"Suicide!" exclaimed the hearers, in one breath. + +"Yes, according to this paragraph. It appears that in some way or +another she became possessed of a bottle of laudanum while the nurse was +absent. The woman returned to find her patient dead. Poor Mrs. +Hilliston!" added Claude, folding up the paper with a sigh. "How sorry I +am to hear this." + +"I wonder why she committed suicide?" said Tait meditatively. "She +looked too determined a woman to yield to such a weakness." + +"No doubt she found out that her husband was guilty of the crime," said +Larcher grimly, "and so did not care to live longer with a murderer." + +"You are wrong, father," observed Claude, looking up; "it was the +knowledge that she had lost her looks which killed her. Depend upon it, +she took the poison so as to avoid dragging out her days a scarred and +miserable object." + +"How do you know that, Claude?" asked his father, with a curious look on +his face. + +"Because not once, but twice, or thrice, Mrs. Hilliston told me she +would kill herself rather than grow old and ugly. The loss of beauty +came with the smallpox; and so she has carried out her resolve." + +"It will be a blow to Hilliston." + +"I don't think so," said Captain Larcher rather cynically. "From what I +remember of Louisa Sinclair, the love was all on her side. No doubt he +married her when she was Mrs. Derrick purely for her money. No! No! I +quite believe the story of Mona Bantry. She was and is the woman of his +love. Now the wife is dead he can console himself with the mistress." + +"That reminds me," observed Claude suddenly. "What are we to do about +Jenny? Is she to be informed that her mother is yet alive?" + +Captain Larcher shook his head. "Set your mind at rest on that point," +he said with a nod. "I told Mrs. Bezel that Jenny was about to become +your wife; that she thinks her parents are dead; and I pointed out that +it would be unwise to mar the happiness of the girl by letting her know +the truth. Mrs. Bezel agrees with me, and she has consented that things +shall remain as they are." + +"Does she not want to see Jenny, father?" + +"Of course she does. It is only natural, poor soul, but she loves her +child sufficiently to avoid casting a shadow on her life. Jenny will +never know that Jeringham was her father or that her mother is still +alive. She will marry you, Claude, as Miss Kennedy, and know no more of +her connection with the matter than she does at present." + +"And Denis?" + +"Denis has been told. I wrote him two days ago, and I have no doubt he +will come up to town to see the last of his wretched sister." + +"The last of her?" + +"Can you doubt it? Mrs. Bezel has death written on her face." + +"Another blow for Hilliston," said Tait, in a rather regretful tone. +Villain as he knew the lawyer to be, he could not help feeling sorry for +his troubles. Fate had held her hand a long time, but now she was +dealing a full measure, and pouring the vials of her wrath on the head +of the sinner. + +"It will be a heavier blow than the last," said Larcher, in a severe +tone, "for there is no doubt Hilliston truly loves Mona." + +"I suppose Denis will object to his going near her again." + +"It is impossible to say. We must leave that to the man himself." + +This conversation took place in Tait's rooms one morning some three +weeks after the momentous interview with Mrs. Bezel. It had been Captain +Larcher's intention to return at once to Thorston, but he had been +dissuaded from this by his son, who thought a few weeks in town would do +his father good. There was no doubt on this point, for Captain Larcher +brisked up wonderfully in the exhilarating atmosphere of the West End. +But for the unexplained mystery of Jeringham's death, he would have been +quite happy in the recovered society of his son, and even while the +future was still black enjoyed himself in no small degree. It did Claude +good to see that his father was at length getting some pleasure out of +life, after his years of incessant trouble and wearing anxiety. + +The next day Denis, looking older and grayer than ever, came up to see +his sister. He saw his master for a few minutes, and then went on to +Hampstead. + +"I have told Denis how ill she is," explained Captain Larcher, as the +man took his departure, "and he has promised to be as lenient as +possible toward her wrong-doing. By the way, Hilliston is in town." + +"Hilliston!" + +"Yes. He came up in the same train as Denis, and had the impudence to +speak to him. Asked him where I was, as he wanted to see me." + +"To see you, father?" cried Claude, in astonishment. "What for?" + +"I think I can guess," interposed Tait quietly, "Hilliston has been +stricken by his wife's death, and wants to atone for his sins by +confessing the truth. I would not be surprised if he called here this +afternoon." + +Captain Larcher looked skeptical, but said nothing, and the matter +dropped for the time being. As it happened Denis was still ignorant that +his sister had been the mistress of the lawyer, else there might have +been trouble. He had but a confused idea of Hilliston's connection with +the case, and, beyond knowing that he was the owner of the garnet +scarfpin, could not conceive that he had been actually present in the +garden when the murder was committed. True it was that the scarfpin had +been found on the spot where the corpse of Jeringham had lain, but +assured by his master that Hilliston was innocent, as Captain Larcher +had truly believed these many years, Denis never gave the matter a +second thought. Now he would learn the truth from Mrs. Bezel. + +Denis only came back in the afternoon, looking much put out. The ruin of +his much loved sister by Jeringham had been a great blow to him, but the +discovery that she was alive and had been living in sin with Hilliston +startled him considerably. He could hardly reply to the questions of his +master, but ultimately related that they had parted friends. Mrs. Bezel +had told him that the doctor assured her she could not live much longer; +and in the shadow of death Denis had freely forgiven her all her sins +and follies. + +"And, indeed, sir, what else could I do," said Denis, wiping the tears +from his eyes, "when I saw the poor thing lying there like a corpse? +It's a bitter time she's had of it, these last ten years, in that +death-in-life state. Oh yes, captain, I forgave her freely, poor soul!" + +"And Hilliston?" asked Larcher inquiringly. + +"May his black soul burn," cried Denis, with a scowl. "Were I or he +younger I'd leave my mark on him. Mona had a letter from him saying he +was calling to see her this evening, but that he had an appointment with +you, sir." + +"With me, Denis! It is the first I have heard of it. Where is he?" + +At this moment, as if in response to his question, the door opened and +Tait appeared, looking very disturbed. + +"Mr. Hilliston is here, Captain Larcher, and wishes to speak with you." + +Claude had entered the room by another door, and, on hearing this, +stepped forward looking slightly pale. He slipped his arm within that of +his father, as though to protect the elder man. Then they all waited to +hear what Captain Larcher had to say. The permission for the interview +must come from the man who had been most deeply wronged. He thought for +a moment or so with a frown on his face, then sank into a chair with a +deep sigh. + +"Denis, stand behind me," he said, in a peremptory tone. "Claude, sit +down yonder. Now, Mr. Tait, we are ready to see our friend." + +Tait anticipated this permission, and was already prepared for it. +Without a word he threw open the door, and Hilliston, dressed in deep +mourning, entered the room with a paper in his hand. He looked pale and +worn, his fresh color was gone, and as he spoke he kept his eyes +persistently on the ground. It could be easily seen that the man had +received a shock from which he would not easily recover. + +"I have called to see you and deliver this," he said, in a low tone, +placing the paper he carried on the table. "I do not ask your +forgiveness, Larcher, for I do not consider I have done anything to +justify your anger against me." + +"You could have saved me all these years of anguish by telling me the +truth," said Larcher indignantly. + +"Perhaps! But it was not to my interest to tell you the truth." + +"I don't wonder at that," said Claude bitterly. "You were afraid of the +law." + +"Perhaps," said Hilliston again. "On the other hand I may not be so +guilty as you think me. You will find the truth in that paper." + +He pointed toward the table, and the eyes of all immediately turned in +that direction, while Hilliston moved toward the door. + +"Having fulfilled the promise I made to my dead wife, I now take my +leave," he said quietly. "I will never see any of you again, and some +day you may learn that you have misjudged me. Good-by." + +He opened the door, but before he could pass through Denis sprang +forward. + +"My sister?" he said, with an indignant look in his eyes. + +"I am about to repair the wrong I did her," replied the lawyer gravely. +"By to-morrow she will be my wife." + + + + + CHAPTER XLIV. + + THE TRUTH. + + +HILLISTON came and went in the space of a few minutes. None of those +present made any attempt to stay his exit, but as the door closed after +him they looked at one another in silence. Thinking of Hilliston's last +speech, Denis was the first to speak. + +"What does that mean, sir?" he asked his master, with an air of helpless +bewilderment. + +"I think it can only mean one thing, Denis," replied Larcher, rousing +himself. "Mr. Hilliston has at length awakened to the fact of his +dastardly treatment of your sister, and is about to make reparation for +the past. He intends to marry her." + +"But his wife only died a few days ago, master." + +"I know that. But Mrs. Bezel will also die shortly, and if Hilliston +desires to atone for the past he has no time to lose. He can marry her +at once, but he will again be a widower within the month." + +Denis lifted a pair of shaking hands, and slowly left the room, followed +by the sympathetic looks of the others. He did not even pause to learn +the contents of the sealed envelope left by Mr. Hilliston. Great as was +his curiosity to learn all that had taken place on that fatal night, his +love and grief for his sister were greater still. Bowed and gray and +older-looking than ever, he departed; but in his heart there was one +comfortable thought--Mona would die an honest woman, if Mr. Hilliston +was to be believed. + +When the three found themselves alone, Captain Larcher picked up the +sealed letter with some reluctance. + +"Strange," he said, balancing it in his hand. "For years I have been +eager to know the truth. Now that I have only to open this envelope to +learn it, I feel half afraid." + +"Nevertheless, it will be as well to lose no time in making ourselves +acquainted with the contents," said Tait eagerly, for he was in a fever +of impatience to know all. "It may be a confession by Hilliston." + +"I think not. It is directed to me in the handwriting of Mrs. +Hilliston." + +"To Ferdinand Paynton?" + +"No. To Captain Larcher." + +"H'm!" said Tait, with a start. "How did Mrs. Hilliston know you were +Captain Larcher? Did she see you at Thorston?" + +"No. But her husband doubtless informed her of my real name. However, we +will learn all from this," said Larcher, breaking the seal. "I believe +this is a confession by Mrs. Hilliston." + +"But what can she have to confess?" cried Claude, as his father smoothed +out a closely written letter. "She can know nothing of the tragedy." + +"You forget," said Tait, with a sudden recollection, "Louisa Sinclair; +she was at Horriston, and, according to Mona Bantry, was in the garden +of The Laurels on that night. I would not be surprised if she saw the +committal of the crime." + +"What! Do you think she is about to betray her husband?" + +"Oh," said Tait significantly, "we are by no means sure of Hilliston's +guilt!" + +Larcher found that the writing was too small for him to read +comfortably, so handed the letter to Claude, with a request that he +should read it out aloud. Excusing himself on the plea of the +illegibility of the writing, Claude passed it to Tait, who accepted the +office with avidity. The letter was without date or direction, and began +in an abrupt manner, highly suggestive of the agitation under which it +had been written. Tait mentally noted these points, and began. + + * * * * * + +"This confession is to be read after my death by Captain George Larcher, +and, if he sees fit, he has my free permission to make it public. Still +I trust out of regret for the memory of an unhappy woman that he will +not do so save in the arising of two contingencies. First, should he be +still alive, and accused of murdering Mr. Jeringham. Second, should my +dear husband be accused of the crime. In the event of the occurrence of +either of these contingencies, I authorize him to make these pages +public. + +"To explain myself I must go back twenty-six years, when I was residing +at Horriston. You, Captain Larcher, will remember me well as Louisa +Sinclair, for at that time I saw a great deal of yourself and your wife. +I saw too much of her, for my eyes were sharp, and, but for a natural +reluctance to disturb your domestic peace, I could have enlightened you +as to her conduct. She was never worthy of a good man like you. She was +as bad as I afterward became, and that is saying a great deal, as you +will see by reading on. + +"I loved Francis Hilliston, your intimate friend. Belinda Pike loved him +also, but there was no need for either of us to be jealous of the other, +for Mr. Hilliston loved a third person; none other than your wife. No +doubt you will be angry when you read this, but your anger cannot alter +facts. Yes, your dearest friend loved your wife. Let him deny that if he +can." + +At this point there was a marginal note by Hilliston: "I do deny it, and +but that I am not in a position to do so I would not let George +Larcher's eyes rest on this confession. My poor wife was insanely +jealous of Mrs. Larcher, but I swear that she had no grounds to be so. I +admired Mrs. Larcher as a friend, nothing more, and I loved Mona Bantry. +She is the only woman who has ever attracted me, and, notwithstanding my +marriage, now dissolved by death, she attracts me still." + +This note was hastily scribbled in pencil, and after Tait had read it, +without interruption from Captain Larcher, he continued the confession: + +"I admit that I was jealous of his attentions to your wife," continued +Mrs. Hilliston, "for though I did all in my power I could not win him to +my side. Regarding the efforts of Belinda Pike, I say nothing. She tried +to gain his love, and she failed. I was more successful in the end, but +not till the lapse of many years. Here I may say that I have gypsy blood +in my veins, which at times renders me insanely jealous, and in such a +state I am capable of all things. A recollection of this may enlighten +you as to my acting as I did in the garden of The Laurels. + +"I knew that your wife loved Jeringham, and could have told you of it. I +am sorry I did not now, as she would have been disgraced, and then +Francis might have turned to me for consolation. But I held my peace, +and paid the cost of doing so. I am doing so now; you also; for if you +had been forewarned you would never have had to conceal yourself under a +feigned name on account of Jeringham's death. + +"At the fancy dress ball held at the Town Hall, matters came to a +climax. My gypsy blood made me mad on that night, owing to the way in +which I was neglected by Francis Hilliston. With some difficulty I +learned that your wife was to be dressed as Mary, Queen of Scots, and, +with a view to making myself attractive in Hilliston's eyes, I chose the +same dress. With the assistance of the dressmaker who worked for us +both, I obtained a dress similar in all respects to that of Mrs. +Larcher, hoping that by doing so he would speak to me under the +impression that I was your wife. My stratagem was successful. I was +masked and dressed as she was; he spoke to me, thinking I was she, and I +learned then how he loved her. At that moment I could have killed her. I +could have killed him." + +Here there was another note in Hilliston's handwriting: "Again I say +that the poor creature was mistaken. I did speak to her under the +impression that she was Mrs. Larcher, but I said nothing that she could +construe into a declaration of love. Her jealousy rendered her mad, and +she distorted the idle words I spoke. She took them up in the wrong +sense." + +"My suspicions were confirmed later on," continued the confession, "for +I overheard them talking together; yes, Francis Hilliston and your wife +were in a corner together, talking of love. I listened. It was mean to +do so; but then, I was in love and would have stooped to any degradation +to have rescued him from her clutches. They talked about a dagger which +he had given her to complete her dress. Aha! he did not think to +complete my costume with such a gift. Mrs. Larcher took the dagger out +of its sheath and together they examined it. She blamed him for putting +an inscription on it, saying it would make her husband jealous. Francis +laughed, and said that you would never suspect him. Then Mrs. Larcher +slipped the dagger back in the sheath, as she thought; but in reality it +slipped down among the folds of her dress, and when she arose to go it +fell on the ground. They departed, and I picked up the dagger. + +"At once I looked at the inscription, and there it was on the gold +handle--'To J. L., from F. H.' I was so enraged that I could have broken +the dagger. I tried to, but it was too strong for me. Therefore I thrust +it into my waistband and went in search of Hilliston to return it to +him, and reproach him for giving it to Mrs. Larcher. I saw him, wrapped +in his cloak, go out with Mrs. Larcher. He was seeing her home, and in a +frenzy of jealous rage I resolved to follow." + +Margin note by Hilliston: "It was not I who went home with Mrs. Larcher, +but Jeringham. I was dressed that evening as a Venetian senator, and +wore a long black cloak. This Jeringham borrowed from me to conceal his +fancy dress when he left the Town Hall. My wife thought it was me, but +she was mistaken. I went home with George Larcher, as he knows." + +The confession continues: "They left in Mrs. Larcher's carriage, and I, +hastily wrapping a cloak round me, followed in a fly. When I got to The +Laurels they were talking together at the door, and the carriage had +driven round to the stables. I sat back in my fly, for the driver did +not know who I was, and watched. I saw Mrs. Larcher kiss Hilliston and +run inside. Then I went out of my mind--I was possessed by a devil. He +came down the path and turned midway to look back at the house. I had my +hand on the dagger--it tempted me, and I sprang out on him. He turned +sharply round, and had I not been blinded with rage I would have then +recognized him. But I hardly knew what I was doing, and, before he could +utter a word, I buried the dagger in his heart, when he fell with a +choking cry. I knelt down beside him, and withdrew the dagger. Then I +heard a sound, dropped the weapon, and fled. + +"Some little distance off I ran into the arms of Francis Hilliston. I +shrieked as though I had seen a ghost, and told him I had killed a +man--that I had intended to kill him. He explained the mistake of the +cloak, and said I must have murdered Jeringham. Then he saved my life. +No one had seen me come to The Laurels, no one had seen me in the +garden; so Francis took me back to Horriston, and I returned to the ball +without anyone having suspected my absence. + +"The next day the news of the disappearance of Jeringham was all over +the town; afterward the body was discovered down the river, and mistaken +for that of Mr. Larcher. Francis advised me for my own sake to hold my +tongue. I did so, and shortly afterward I went on a visit to a sister of +mine in America. Francis refused to marry me on account of my crime. In +America I married Derrick, the millionaire; he died, and I returned to +London. I found Francis greatly in want of money, and as I still loved +him, I married him. No one but us two knew who really killed Jeringham, +but for your sake, Captain Larcher, I acknowledge my guilt lest you +should be found out and accused of the crime. I could say much more, but +this is enough. When you read this I will be dead, and my last words I +swear are true. I and none other killed Mark Jeringham in mistake for +Francis Hilliston." + +Note by Hilliston: "It will be seen that my wife was actuated all +through by jealousy, but I swear she had no reason. I loved Mona, not +Mrs. Larcher, nor her. I saved her life because she committed the crime +for my sake; I married her because I was on the verge of pecuniary ruin. +I have nothing more to add. You can blame me if you like, but I consider +I have acted all through as I was forced by circumstances." + + + + + CHAPTER XLV. + + A FEW WORDS BY SPENSER TAIT. + + +WHEN the case has been stated, when the witnesses for and against have +given their evidence, when the counsel on both sides have delivered +their speeches, it is then customary for the judge to sum up the entire +matter for the direction of the jury. In this instance I am the judge, +and here is the Larcher affair summed up for the understanding of the +public. It has fallen to my share to wind up the story, so here I set +down such results as happened from the confession of Mrs. Hilliston. + +The immediate result of her death was the marriage of the widower to +Mrs. Bezel, which took place, so to speak, when the latter was on her +deathbed. She lingered out another two months, and died in the arms of +her husband, at peace with all the world. Denis heartily forgave her, +and the only bitter drop in her cup was the absence of her child. Yet +when Captain Larcher suggested that Jenny should be told the truth, and +brought to say good-by to her mother, Mrs. Bezel, with a self-denial for +which I hardly gave her credit, refused to permit such a thing. She +thought that Jenny would be happier if she was ignorant of the truth, +and moreover, Mrs. Bezel shrank from letting her child know how she had +lived during these many years. At all events Jenny never learned the +truth, and Mrs. Bezel died without seeing her daughter. That she forgave +Hilliston for having deprived her of the child is, I think, a proof of +her goodness of heart, for there is no doubt that he acted selfishly and +cruelly in doing so. But enough of Mrs. Bezel, her faults and virtues. +She lies in Hampstead Cemetery under a plain stone of rose-colored +granite, inscribed "To the memory of Mona Hilliston." So she had her +wish at last, and died an honest woman. + +Captain Larcher returned with Kerry to the cottage in Nightingale Lane, +as he could not make up his mind to resume his own name, or tear himself +away from the bookworm life of twenty-five years. No one knew the truth +save Claude, Jenny, and myself, for Hilliston being absent from England +does not count. The vicar was also enlightened on the subject, and +expressed much astonishment at the strange series of events which had +culminated in the death and confession of Mrs. Hilliston. Unwilling to +lose his old crony he heartily approved of Larcher's determination to +resume his usual life, and so the matter was settled. Captain Larcher +will remain Mr. Ferdinand Paynton to the end of his days, and will still +be a mystery to the gossips of Thorston; how great a one they can never +guess. + +But a notable change has taken place in his habits. He is no longer a +recluse, a misanthrope. When I am at the Manor House he visits me there; +he is a constant guest at the vicarage, and may be seen frequently +fishing beside Kerry on the banks of the Lax. Following the example of +his master, Denis Bantry also renounced his name, which he +superstitiously regarded as one of ill-omen, and called himself Kerry +for the rest of his life. If he was grieved for his unhappy sister, her +life and her death, he finds consolation in the society of Mrs. Claude +Larcher, who conducts herself toward him as a niece should do. But the +relationship is not known beyond the walls of Rose Cottage, lest it +might lead to inquiries, and Jenny is still known as the daughter of Mr. +Paynton. + +That Claude should call Mr. Paynton "father" is of course only regarded +as natural by the village. Has he not married Jenny, and does he not +stand in the relation of a son to the old man? Thorston gossips think he +is a most perfect son-in-law, and never guess that any nearer +relationship exists between them. + +Of course Jenny and Claude were married as speedily as possible, and I +do not know a happier couple. Mrs. Larcher has quite converted me with +regard to the fair sex, and plumes herself on her victory. She has the +audacity to say that she will yet succeed in getting me married, but I +think that is beyond her powers. Mr. Linton married them, and they spent +their honeymoon at the Manor House, which I lent them for the occasion. +Indeed, while at Thorston they invariably live with me, and I should be +offended did they take up their quarters anywhere else. Not that they +have any desire to do so, for Rose Cottage is rather small, and, +besides, the Manor is within easy distance of it, so that Jenny can see +her father--or, rather, her father-in-law--as often as she chooses. + +Claude still goes to different parts of the world to build bridges and +construct railways. Sometimes his wife goes with him, but she does not +like to be so long away from Thorston. Paynton is now an old man, and +cannot live long, so Mrs. Larcher wishes to be near him as much as +possible. Besides, the cares of the nursery take up her attention, so I +think that in a few months Claude will settle down to business in +London, and make his home at Thorston, as he always intended to do. +There is a pleasant little place not far from the Manor which I have +been commissioned to buy for him, so I really think that next year +Claude and Jenny will take up their residence among us. + +The only person who disapproved of the marriage was Frank Linton, who +accused Jenny of jilting him. This was utter nonsense, as she never had +any intention of becoming his wife. However, the author considers +himself badly treated, and has taken up his quarters in London, where he +writes books, and poses in Chelsea circles. But I do not think he will +ever write so excellent a book as "A Whim of Fate," perhaps because Mrs. +Claude Larcher refuses to tell him any more plots. She has a good reason +for so doing, as the troubles which arose out of her finding the murder +papers in the garret of Rose Cottage have startled her in no small +degree. Still, as I tell her, she must look on such troubles as a +blessing in disguise, for, after all, they led to her marriage and +present happiness. But Mrs. Claude does not see the matter in so amiable +a light. + +Finally, Hilliston! It is hard to say what has become of that gentleman. +After the death of his second wife, he withdrew from business and went +abroad. There I believe he is still, and from what I hear of him at odd +times he seems to have developed into a kind of Wandering Jew. France, +Italy, Austria, Germany, Russia, he has seen all these places, and is +constantly traveling about, no doubt trying to live down the past. +Whether he will succeed in doing so it is hard to say. + +After some consideration I have come to the conclusion that we have been +rather hard on Hilliston. He did not love Mrs. Larcher, in spite of his +wife's insane jealousy on the point, and I believe he was sincerely +attached to Mona Bantry. The blot on his character is that he did not +marry her when she first came to London, and seeing that he was in love +with her, I profess my inability to explain why he did not do so. +Perhaps it was on account of her low birth, or the circumstances which +connected her with Jeringham, but at all events he did not marry her +till it was too late for the poor creature's happiness. Otherwise I do +not see how he could have acted differently. Louisa Sinclair was guilty +of the murder, but as she did it on his account, and was wildly in love +with him, it was to his honor that he protected her as he did. Whether +he would have told the truth had Mrs. Larcher been convicted I do not +know, but as Louisa Sinclair did not leave for America till Mrs. Larcher +was released, I think Hilliston would have persuaded her to confess +openly in the event of a conviction. + +It is true that he married her for her money, but I think he was touched +by her devotion, and gave her some love. No doubt it was Mrs. +Hilliston's remorse for condemning his father to lifelong seclusion that +made her so kind to Claude when he was a lad. Now it is easy to see why +Hilliston was reluctant that Claude and I should investigate the case. +He was afraid lest the truth should be found out, and his wife arrested. +I was wrong in my surmise. Hilliston was not afraid for himself, but for +the unhappy woman who had killed Jeringham in mistake for him. The whole +mystery would have been solved years ago had Dicky Pental spoken out as +he should have done. But the fear of being shut up in an asylum closed +his mouth, and so the case was at a standstill for five-and-twenty long +years. + +It was strange that Jenny, who set the ball rolling, should have been +the indirect means of avenging her father's murder--or rather of solving +the mystery which concealed it. Had she not discovered those papers in +the garret, she would not have been able to give Frank Linton the plot +of "A Whim of Fate." Had that novel not been written and published, Mrs. +Bezel would not have read it, and thereby have been induced to write to +Claude. Had she not done so, Hilliston would not have told Claude the +truth, thence we would not have taken up the investigation and solved +the mystery. It was Jenny who was responsible for the whole. After +five-and-twenty years the child of the murdered man unconsciously +enlightened us as to the person who had slain him. Fate works in strange +ways. + +But I do not wish to figure further as a detective. This one experience +has been quite enough for me. The thought, the anguish, the trouble is +too worrying. The next criminal case in the Larcher family can look +after itself. I abandon the rôle of detective, and thus put the last +word to my only criminal case. + + + THE END. + + + + + A SELECTED LIST OF + NOVELS AND TALES + PUBLISHED BY + THE CASSELL PUBLISHING CO., + _31 E. 17th St._ (_Union Square_), _New York_. + Alphabetically arranged by Authors. + + + Cloth Paper + +ABOUT, EDMOND. Mother of a Marquise $0 75 $0 50 +ADEE, DAVID G. No. 19 State Street 75 50 +ALARÇON, P. A. DE. Moors and Christians 75 50 + " " The Child of the Ball 75 50 + " " The Three-Cornered Hat 75 50 +ALLEN, GRANT. Blood Royal 75 50 + " The Scallywag 1 00 .. +ALEXANDER, MRS. Broken Links. A Love Story 1 00 .. + " The Snare of the Fowler 1 00 50 +BAIN, R. N. Pretty Michal 75 50 +BARR, ROBT. In a Steamer Chair 75 50 +BARRETT, FRANK. Out of the Jaws of Death 1 00 50 + " The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane 75 50 +BARRIE, J. M. Auld Licht Idylls 1 00 .. + " A Window in Thrums 1 00 25 + " My Lady Nicotine 1 00 25 +BAZÁN, EMILIA PARDO. A Christian Woman 75 50 + " " A Wedding Trip 75 50 + " " Morriña 1 00 .. + " " Swan of Vilamorta 75 50 + " " The Angular Stone 75 50 +BAZIN, RENÉ. A Blot of Ink 75 50 +BECKETT, C. H. Who is John Noman? 75 50 +BETHUNE, J. G. The Third Man 75 50 +BIERCE, AMBROSE. Can Such Things Be? 75 50 +BRADDON, M. E. All Along the River 1 00 .. +BREHET, ALFRED. Bras d'Acier 75 50 +BRYCE, LLOYD. Friends in Exile 1 00 .. +BUCHANAN, ROBERT. The Wedding Ring 75 50 +CLIFFORD, MRS. W. K. A Wild Proxy 1 00 .. +COBB, JR., SYLVANUS. Bion, the Wanderer 75 50 + " " Gunmaker of Moscow 75 50 + " " Karmel, the Scout 75 50 + " " Orion, the Goldbeater 75 50 + " " Painter of Parma 75 50 + " " Smuggler of King's Cove 75 50 +DAUDET, ALPHONSE. Rose and Ninette 75 50 +DALE, DARLEY. Lottie's Wooing 1 00 .. +DANE, DANIEL. Vengeance is Mine 1 00 50 +DEBANS, CAMILLE. Gabriel's Vocation 75 50 +ELIOT, ANNIE. An Hour's Promise 75 50 +FARJEON, B. L. A Fair Jewess 1 00 .. + " The Last Tenant 1 00 .. +FAWCETT, EDGAR. A New York Family 1 00 50 +FENN, G. MANVILLE. Commodore Junk 75 50 + " Nurse Elisia 1 00 .. + " Witness to the Deed 1 00 .. +FEUILLET, OCTAVE. An Artist's Honor 75 50 +FLAMMARION, CAMILLE. Lumen 75 50 + " " Uranie 75 50 +FLOYD, ISOBEL HENDERSON. Stolen America 75 50 +FRANCKE, PAUL M. A Blot of Ink 75 50 +GAUTIER, THÉOPHILE. Juancho the Bull-Fighter 75 50 +GORDON, JULIEN. His Letters 1 00 .. + " Marionettes 1 00 50 +GRAND, SARAH. The Heavenly Twins 1 00 .. +GRÉVILLE, MME. HENRI. A Mystery 75 50 +GRIGOROVITCH, DIMITRY. The Cruel City 75 50 +HAKE, THOS. ST. E. Within Sound of the Weir 75 50 +HALE, EDWARD EVERETT. A New England Boyhood 1 00 .. + " " East and West 1 00 .. + " " Sybil Knox 1 00 .. +HANNAN, CHARLES. A Swallow's Wing 75 50 +HARBEN, W. N. White Marie 75 50 +HARLAND, HENRY. As it was Written 1 00 50 + " Grandison Mather 1 25 50 + " Latin-Quarter Courtship 75 50 + " Mrs. Peixada 1 00 50 + " The Two Voices 50 .. + " Two Women or One? 75 .. + " Yoke of the Thorah 1 00 50 +HARLAND, MARION. Mr. Wayt's Wife's Sister 1 00 .. +HARRIS, A. L. The Fatal Request 75 50 +HARRISON, MRS. BURTON. A Daughter of the South 1 00 .. + " Flower de Hundred 1 00 50 + " The Anglomaniacs 1 00 50 +HATTON, JOSEPH. Under the Great Seal 1 00 .. +HAWTHORNE, JULIAN. John Parmelee's Curse 75 50 +HOPE, ANTHONY. Father Stafford 75 50 +HORNUNG, E. Tiny Luttrell 1 00 .. +HUDSON, W. C. Jack Gordon, Knight-Errant 75 50 + " On the Rack 75 50 + " The Diamond Button 75 50 + " The Dugdale Millions 75 50 + " The Man with a Thumb 75 50 + " Vivier 75 50 +INCA-PANCHA-OZOLLO. The Lost Inca 75 50 +JOKAI, MAURUS. Dr. Dumány's Wife 75 50 + " Pretty Michal 75 50 +KEELING, ELSA D'ESTERRE. Orchardscroft 1 00 .. +KEENAN, HENRY F. Trajan 1 50 50 +KEITH, LESLIE. 'Lisbeth 1 00 .. +LA FOREST, DEBUT. Renée and Colette 75 50 +LANDON, MELVILLE D. Thirty Years of Wit, etc 1 50 50 +LATHROP, GEO. PARSONS. Two Sides of a Story 75 50 +LEMAÎTRE, JULES. Prince Hermann, Regent 75 50 +LE QUEUX, WM. Strange Tales of a Nihilist 75 50 +LOTI, PIERRE. The Book of Pity and of Death 75 50 + " Jean Berny, Sailor 1 00 .. +MAIRET, MME. JEANNE. An Artist 75 50 +MALLOCK, W. H. A Human Document 75 50 +MARRYAT, FLORENCE. Parson Jones 1 00 .. +MARY, JULES. The Shadow of Roger Laroque 75 50 +MCCLELLAND, M. G. Burkett's Lock 75 50 +MCCLELLAND, M. G. Madame Silva 75 50 +MCDOUGALL, W. H. The Hidden City 75 50 +MEADE, L. T. Out of the Fashion 1 00 .. + " The Medicine Lady 1 00 .. +MEREDITH, WM. T. Not of Her Father's Race 75 50 +MITFORD, BERTRAND. 'Tween Snow and Fire 75 50 +MOLESWORTH, MRS. Leona 1 00 .. +MONTAGUE, C. H., and C. W. DYAR. Written in Red 75 50 +MOORE, FRANK F. I Forbid the Banns 1 00 .. +MOURIOT, MLLE. V. Madame Rosély 1 00 .. +OHNET, GEORGES. A Debt of Hatred 75 50 + " Nimrod & Co 75 50 + " The Soul of Pierre 75 50 +PAGE, ANNA DYER. An Artist 75 50 + " " A Mystery 75 50 +PARR, MRS. The Squire 1 00 50 +POTAPEEKO, N. E. A Russian Priest 75 50 + " The General's Daughter 75 50 +QUILLER-COUCH, A. T. ("Q"). A Blot of Ink 75 50 + " " Blue Pavilions 75 50 +QUILLER-COUCH, A. T. ("Q"). Dead Man's Rock 75 50 + " " I Saw Three Ships 75 50 + " " Noughts and Crosses 75 50 + " " The Splendid Spur 75 50 + " " The Astonishing History + of Troy Town 75 50 +QUIGG, L. E. Tin Types 1 50 50 +RICKETT, J. COMPTON. The Quickening of Caliban 1 00 .. +RICHEBOURG, ÉMILE. Old Raclot's Million 75 50 +ROBERTS, MORLEY. Mate of the Vancouver 75 50 +RUSSELL, W. CLARK. List, Ye Landsmen 1 00 .. + " Romance of a Transport 1 00 .. + " The Emigrant Ship 1 00 .. +SACHER-MASOCH, L. VON. The New Job 75 50 +SALE, PIERRE. The Price of a Coronet 75 50 +SHAPCOTT, REUBEN. Auto. of Mark Rutherford 1 00 .. + " Mark Rutherford's Deliverance 1 00 .. + " Revolution in Tanner's Lane 1 00 .. +SHERARD, R. H. By Right, Not Law 75 50 +SOUVESTRE, ÉMILE. Man and Money 75 50 +SPENCER, MRS. G. E. A Plucky One 75 50 +STERNE, STUART. The Story of Two Lives 75 50 +STODDARD, ELIZABETH. Two Men 75 50 + " Temple House 75 50 + " The Morgesons 75 50 +STRETTON, HESBA. Half-Brothers 1 00 .. +SYLVA, CARMEN. Edleen Vaughan 75 .. +THOMAS, ANNIE. Utterly Mistaken 1 00 .. +THOMPSON, MAURICE. At Love's Extremes 75 50 + " A Banker of Bankersville 75 50 +TOMPKINS, E. S. DE G. An Honest Hypocrite 75 50 +VALDES, A. P. Faith 75 50 +VALENTINE, JANE. Time's Scythe 75 50 +VAN ZILE, EDWARD S. Last of the Van Slacks 75 50 + " " Don Miguel, etc. 75 50 +VERNE, JULES. Cæsar Cascabel 1 00 50 + " Mistress Branican 1 00 50 +WALWORTH, MRS. J. H. Baldy's Point 75 50 + " " Bar Sinister 75 50 + " " New Man at Rossmere 75 50 + " " Without Blemish 75 50 +WEYMAN, S. J. Story of Francis Cludde 1 00 50 + " The Man in Black 1 00 .. +WOOLF, PHILIP, M. D. Who is Guilty? 75 50 +WOOD, J. S. An Old Beau 1 00 .. +ZOLA, ÉMILE. Doctor Pascal 1 00 50 + " The Downfall 1 50 50 + + + + + Transcriber Notes: + +Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_. + +Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=. + +Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS. + +Throughout the document, the oe ligature was replaced with "oe". + +Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the +speakers. Those words were retained as-is. + +Errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected +unless otherwise noted. + +On page 31, "Nevertheles" was replaced with "Nevertheless". + +On page 51, the comma after "John Parver herself" was replaced with a +period. + +On page 53, "Hillison" was replaced with "Hilliston". + +On page 73, the period after "valued this spendor" was replaced with a +question mark. + +On page 82, "fufilled" was replaced with "fulfilled/". + +On page 102, "CHAPER" was replaced with "CHAPTER". + +On page 107, "the the" was replaced with "the". + +On page 116, "was" was added before "by no means". + +On page 122, "Jerringham" was replaced with "Jeringham". + +On page 125, a quotation mark as added after "That's strange.". + +On page 127, "Hillston" was replaced with "Hilliston". + +On page 136, "was" was added before "now perfectly composed". + +On page 145, the period after "description of the scarfpin" was replaced +with a question mark. + +On page 150, "bundle old newspapers" was replaced with "bundle of old +newspapers". + +On page 162, "clever conversation that" was replaced with "clever +conversation than". + +On page 162, "and like to" was replaced with "and liked to". + +On page 208, "idylic" was replaced with "idyllic". + +On page 210, the quotation mark was removed after "to their +accomplishment.". + +On page 212, a comma was added after "he said". + +On page 224, the period after "only be Jeringham" was replaced with a +comma. + +On page 267, "Jerringham" was replaced with "Jeringham". + +On page 280, the period after "with the case" was replaced with a comma. + +On page 284, a comma was added after "into the garden". + +On page 311, the period after "we ought to proceed" was replaced with a +question mark. + +On page 323, the quotation mark after "not tended to improve it." was +removed. + +On the first page of Selected List of Novels and Tales, a period was +added after "Edmond". + +On the second page of Selected List of Novels and Tales, ".." was added +in the line for "Farjeon, B. L." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Third Volume, by Fergus Hume + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43288 *** |