At those dreadful words, spoken in a low, vibrating voice, a shudder ran
through the listeners. Sheila laid her head upon her father's shoulder,
and sobbed unrestrainedly. Wingate uttered a cry of horror.
"And whose was the devilish mind that conceived this awful thing, and
what was the motive?" he cried, when he had recovered from his
stupefaction.
"You will know directly, but it is best I should tell the story in my
own way, and in proper sequence. Well, I went to Forest View, to look
after Mr Monkton. I may say that Stent never went near him himself,
for fear of recognition. I found that he was being treated with drugs,
so as to keep him more or less in a state of torpor. When I saw what
was being done, I was horrified, and remonstrated. But Stent was always
plausible, told me the effect was temporary, and that as soon as he
could fix the time for his release, he would give him antidotes that
would speedily restore him to his normal state.
"I very shortly conceived the idea of liberating him, but the means were
hard to discover. Stent distrusted everybody, and it was only by
acceding to all his humours that I was able to worm anything out of him.
Half-a-dozen times he permitted me to administer the drug during his
absence. It was one of his own preparation--for he was among other
things a most skilled chemist. On these occasions I gave your father
but a small portion of the dose intended for him. By these means I
revived his benumbed faculties, and was able to assure him that I was
his friend, and was eagerly seeking the means of restoring him to
freedom.
"Then one day, when Stent was in an unusually good temper, he came to
me, with that evil smile on his face which I had learned to know and
dread. `A curious thing is going to happen to-morrow. A man is coming
here to stay for a little time. Can you guess what he is coming for?'
Of course, I answered I could not.
"`He will stay here under an assumed name, but he is rather a great
personage in his own world. He will want, if I know him aright, to go
to Monkton's room every day, and gloat over his handiwork.'
"It was imprudent of me, but I could not help blurting out, `Yours as
well as his.'
"His smile grew more evil as he said, `I am afraid you are a little too
tender-hearted for this world, my dear. Anyway, I am paid a big price
for the job, and you know I never refuse money.'
"I saw my mistake, and pretended to fall in with his mood, and succeeded
in winning him back to amiability. I expressed great curiosity to know
the real name of the man who, to use his own expression, was coming down
`to gloat over his handiwork.' To this day I shall never know what
caused him to satisfy it. But at last he told me."
Sheila and her lover gazed at the pale-faced woman intently. In their
eagerness they almost forgot their loathing.
"The instigator of his abduction, the man who hired this fiend to carry
out his deadly, malignant revenge, is a man well-known, wealthy, a peer
of the realm. I daresay you have heard of him. He is called Lord
Wrenwyck."
Sheila gasped at this astounding revelation. "The husband of the
popular Lady Wrenwyck, who in her youth was a celebrated beauty?"
Then she turned to her father, whose pale, worn face cut her to the
heart. "But, dearest, what was his motive for such a dastardly deed?"
Monkton spoke in a low voice, but he did not meet his daughter's eyes.
"A fancied wrong, my child. We crossed each other many years ago, and
he has brooded over it till he grew half insane, and thought of this
scheme of vengeance."
"But you will have him punished," cried his daughter loudly. "You must!
You cannot mete out to him what he has done to you, but you will deal
with him as the law allows you."
Monkton turned uneasily in his chair. "It is the dearest wish of my
heart to bring him low, but, in my position, one cannot afford scandal.
In a few weeks I shall be restored to my old place, to my old strength.
That there has been a mystery is only known to a few. To the public,
Reginald Monkton has recovered from a brief illness induced by
overstrain and over-work. It is better so."
Sheila gazed at him almost wildly. "That is your resolve. But it seems
to me folly; forgive me if I question your decision, if I criticise
you."
For a moment the glances of Wingate and Mrs Saxton met, and they read
each other's thoughts. Monkton must let Lord Wrenwyck go unpunished; it
would be political death to him to have that old folly brought into
public gaze.
He interposed hastily. "Dearest Sheila, your father is right. I
understand his reasons perfectly. He is not an ordinary man. If he is
to keep his position, he must forgo the revenge to which he is so justly
entitled."
Sheila looked at him with puzzled eyes. Austin was wise beyond his
years, but surely he was wrong in this. She pressed her hand to her
head, and murmured faintly, "I do not understand. But I suppose it must
be as you say."
Mrs Saxton went on swiftly with her story.
"According to all accounts. Lord Wrenwyck is half insane. He had been
mixed up with some financial transactions with Stent, and had taken the
man's measure, had satisfied himself that he would carry out any
villainous scheme, so long as he was well paid for the risk. He it was
who suggested the abduction of Mr Monkton, the systematic drugging at
Forest View, where he would come in while his unhappy prisoner was
asleep, and watch him with a fiendish smile spreading over his repulsive
countenance."
At this point Sheila raised her hands with a gesture of despair. "And
yet this fiend is to go scot-free, and live to work further evil."
"He will not do that," said Mrs Saxton quickly. "Smeaton, after our
interview, compelled him to go to Scotland Yard. Depend upon it. Lord
Wrenwyck will not risk his fate a second time. He will be rendered
powerless by the fact that his cunningly laid scheme was frustrated, and
also that it is known to those who could set the law in motion at any
moment they chose."