MISGIVINGS.
Meantime, James Semple’s conscience had been making him very miserable.
It was not the fraud that troubled him. He had long since made up
his mind that to prevent his uncle’s unnatural intentions from being
carried out was a very venial offence. Nor was it merely Alec’s
incarceration. That, he thought, would be amply compensated by the
quarter of a million which would fall to his share as one of the
residuary legatees. Alec’s fortune, in fact, would be twice as large
as his own; and it was only fair that he should take his share of the
inconveniences which were inseparable from the securing of it.
But if his cousin should be convicted, and sentenced to a long term
of penal servitude, Semple knew that he would feel very uncomfortable
indeed. Yet, he argued, Alec would certainly have himself to thank
if that was the result. If he had chosen to take Beattie’s hint, and
declare that his uncle, before he died, had privately told him that he
had changed his mind, and wished to leave the bulk of his money to his
two nephews, all would have been well, and Dr. Mackenzie might have
raged as much as he pleased, without being able to do any harm. It was
Alec’s inability to explain the discrepancy between the will as it
stood and his uncle’s known intentions which formed the real strength
of the prosecution.
It would be very sad if Alec were convicted in consequence of his
own obstinacy, but it would be still more sad, it would be a quite
intolerable calamity, if anything should happen to Mr. James Semple.
And in spite of Beattie’s assurances, he felt far from secure. He
was horrified to find that Alec was actually in prison before he had
heard that criminal proceedings had been thought of. If the fraud were
discovered, what would be his fate?
‘I say, Beattie,’ he said to his friend one day, ‘I almost think I’ll
take a voyage to California, or somewhere, and stay there till this
affair has been thoroughly forgotten. You could remit my share of the
proceeds, couldn’t you?’
Beattie looked at him curiously.
‘I might. But I should be much more likely to remit a detective
officer.’
‘What!’ cried the other with a white, scared face. ‘You don’t mean that
you would turn traitor, do you?’
‘I mean that you would turn traitor if you bolted just now. Don’t you
see that it would make everybody believe that you had done something,
and that you were afraid you would be found out? Besides, we need your
evidence for your cousin’s trial.’
Semple muttered something to the effect that Alec’s trial could get on
very well without him.
‘But you don’t think they can convict him?’ he said aloud.
‘Corker says he thinks he can get him off, and he’s the best criminal
lawyer in the country,’ answered Beattie tranquilly. ‘But you mustn’t
talk of a trip to America,’ he added, with a meaning look. ‘If you do,
you will never see one penny of your uncle’s money. I’ll see to that.’
‘Oh; I was only joking, of course,’ said the other, as he took his
leave.
Semple was still living at Claremont Gardens, and he made his way
thither that day, after parting from his companion.
As he opened the door with his latch-key, Laura met him in the hall.
‘Oh, James,’ she whispered to him, ‘Margaret Lindsay has come up to
town; and she is in the drawing-room now, with your aunt. She is
waiting on purpose to see you.’
Semple muttered an oath between his teeth, as he very deliberately took
off his overcoat; and Laura glided back to the drawing-room.
‘No, my dear,’ Miss Lindsay was saying when she entered; ‘nothing will
ever make me believe such a thing o’ Alec. If your feyther has his
doots, as ye seem to think, he has less gumption than I gied him credit
for. Hoots! The thing’s perfeckly ridiculous!’ exclaimed the old lady,
smoothing away imaginary crumbs from her lap as she spoke.
Margaret felt more cheered by this speech than she had been since the
blow had fallen; and at that moment Semple entered the room.
‘How do you do, Maggie?’ he said, going up to her in a hurried way, and
shaking her by the hand. ‘I didn’t know you had come up. Almost a pity,
I think; for this scrape, I mean this ridiculous accusation they have
made against your brother, is a matter of no real moment. It is only a
temporary--inconvenience, you know.’
The three women were listening to him in silence, and somehow his words
sounded hollow and unreal, even to himself.
Margaret felt hurt that her wound should thus be openly probed and
commented on, and she made no reply.
‘Then you think that Mr. Alec Lindsay is in no real--danger?’ asked
Laura timidly.
Semple turned to her almost gratefully.
‘Not the least in the world,’ he said eagerly. ‘I have just seen B----
Mr.--a--the lawyer, you know, and he feels quite sure about it.’
‘Oh, I am so glad!’ exclaimed Laura.
Then there was a pause.
‘There is just one question I should like to ask you, James,’ said
Margaret.
Semple’s heart sank within him.
‘When Alec read over the will, did he read the bequest “five thousand”
or “five _hundred_ thousand” pounds?’
‘Five thousand,’ said Semple promptly.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Margaret, her large eyes steadily regarding him.
‘I’ll take my oath of it.’
‘But Alec says, I understand, that he either said, or meant to say,
“five _hundred_ thousand.”’
‘There’s no doubt he read it as it stands--five thousand--and I heard
him,’ persisted Semple. ‘But there seems to have been a mistake of
some sort. I don’t profess to understand it myself.’
‘Umph,’ said Miss Lindsay.
‘Let us hope for the best, dear Margaret--I may call you Margaret, as I
did in the old days, mayn’t I?’ said Laura, when Margaret rose to go.
‘And you will let me help you to look for rooms, won’t you?’
But Margaret was in no mood to accept civilities. She thanked Laura
rather coolly, and went away, declining her cousin’s offer to escort
her to Highgate.
‘Have you been to see Alec, James?’ asked Miss Lindsay, when Margaret
had gone.
Now this was what Semple had not been able to bring himself to do.
‘Not yet,’ he said sullenly. ‘He doesn’t want a lot of people bothering
round him. At least, if I were in his place I wouldn’t.’
‘If you were in his place----’ repeated the old lady, as if she were
not thinking of her words, as she turned and slowly left the room.
Semple shuddered, and watched her curiously till the door closed behind
her.
‘James,’ said Laura suddenly, ‘you remember one night, before my uncle
died, you asked me to watch what he did with a paper that had come from
the lawyers. What was in that paper? Had it anything to do with the
will?’
‘What paper? Oh, I remember now. No; nothing in the world.’
Laura had purposely put her question in this shape.
‘James, you are not telling me the truth,’ she said, looking at him
steadily. ‘You gave me to understand at the time that it had to do with
it.’
‘You are quite mistaken,’ cried Semple, greatly alarmed.
It was the manner of his denial which the clever girl had wished to
observe; and what she saw satisfied her that she had been right in her
guess about the paper.
‘My uncle put it in his desk,’ she said slowly, ‘and I told you how to
take the desk out of the room. Did you get the paper? What did you do
with it? Did you burn it?’
‘No--no! What makes you imagine such things?’
‘I believe you did burn it. Come now!’ she said, laughing.
Semple laughed a little too, and looked furtively at his companion, as
she sat looking into the fire. Laura turned round sharply, and caught
his glance, smiled to herself, and gracefully changed the subject.
Seeing that the danger had gone by, Semple ventured to take her hand.
Laura quietly withdrew it.
‘What’s the matter, Laura?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Why do you treat me like that?’
‘How else should I treat you?’
‘Aren’t we two engaged?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘But we are,’ cried Semple, catching her wrist.
‘Indeed you are mistaken,’ said the girl, throwing off his grasp. ‘You
asked me, I know.’
‘And you accepted me.’
‘I have not made up my mind about it yet.’
‘Upon my word!’
His astonishment prevented his saying more. Suddenly a thought occurred
to him, which stung him like a serpent.
‘Oh, I suppose that means that you have heard.’
‘Heard what?’
‘That Alec Lindsay is a residuary legatee as well as I.’ In a moment
he saw that he had made a great mistake. She had not known it before.
But he was too angry to think of what he said. ‘If the poor fellow
escapes penal servitude, that is,’ said he, with a sneer.
Laura Meredith rose and drew a step nearer to the smiling, mocking face
before her. She could gladly have struck it. Then she moved away again,
while the smile died from Semple’s face; and without uttering another
word, she walked out of the room.
Semple, in a rage, went off to his club, banging the door behind him;
and Laura, as soon as she saw that the coast was clear, slipped back to
the drawing-room fire (for, cat-like, she dearly loved a good blaze),
and sat down to think.
‘So Alec, if he was not found guilty, was to be rich after all--as rich
as his cousin! What a good thing it was that she had not committed
herself definitely to Semple! But Alec--would he ever come back to
her? She remembered only too well the look in his face when he met her
outside Mr. Lindsay’s bedroom door with the will in her hand.
Yet, if he were the victim of a plot, and if she were to deliver him
from the snare in which he had been taken, surely gratitude would make
him turn to her then! And she would be a good wife to him; faithful,
and true, and loving. How happy they might be! And the girl’s eyes
softened as the idea crossed her mind.
He must be set free, and she must do it. He was innocent. She had never
doubted that. (Curiously enough, this girl had judged Alec better than
his own father had done.) How had he been involved? Had he really made
a mistake? Or was there some conspiracy on foot?
Laura went the right way to work. She did not stop to consider the
difficulties of the case, but went straight to motives. If there was a
plot on foot, Semple was concerned in it. She felt sure of that.
Why had he been so anxious to get hold of that paper? She believed he
had burned it.
Then, why had he wanted to see the will, when (as she afterwards
learned) he had been in the room while it was read? Had he made any
alteration in it? No. She felt certain there had been no time for
anything of that kind. If he had even bent down to write in it, she
must have seen him doing it. He had only stood at the window with it in
his hand reading it. Besides, if he had altered the writing in any way,
the alteration must have been noticed.
The girl’s subtle mind was at fault. She could see no clue to the plot
which, she felt certain, existed.
Suddenly she remembered the conversation between Semple and a stranger,
which she had partly overheard at the railway-station. ‘We are not out
of the wood yet,’ the stranger had said; and ‘he must not be there when
the will is read, on any account.’ Who must not be there? Not Alec,
surely. Dr. Mackenzie? Why? Clearly, that he might not be able to say
what Alec had read.
So much seemed clear; but still there was no explanation of the fact
that Alec had failed to carry out his uncle’s instructions. Ponder over
it as she might, the girl could not solve the mystery.
‘But suppose I were to write to Alec and tell him all this,’ she said
to herself, ‘or tell some friend of his, Mr. Blake, for example, and
get him to tell the lawyer; he might be able to put the pieces of the
puzzle together. If they have made up some plot and allowed the blame
to fall on Alec, what a shame!’ And again a pleased look came into
her face as she remembered how Alec’s gratitude, if she were the means
of establishing his innocence, would surely bring him once more to her
side.
But--how could she have overlooked it? She could never tell this. She
had made herself one of the conspirators. How could she confess that
she had kept a watch on the old man, and told his nephew where his
private papers were to be found? Could she tell openly that she had
smuggled his will out of his room before it was signed, and had given
it to Semple to read? She might find herself in the dock instead of
Alec, accused of--she knew not what. Who would believe that she had
done these things innocently, when she could give no good reason for
doing them at all?
Was she going to risk standing her trial with Semple, and----? She
shuddered, shook her head, and crept upstairs to her own room. She
dared not tell.