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."