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."