MURIEL RELIEVES HER MIND
On the Monday morning, Jernyngham was shown into the parlor of the hotel
where a commissioned officer of the police sat waiting for him. He had
keen, observant eyes, but his manner was quiet, and Jernyngham endeavored
to control his impatience.
"I suppose you know that Prescott has returned to his farm?" he said,
taking the chair the other pointed to.
"I have been informed so," the officer replied.
"Then may I ask what you mean to do?"
"We have come to no decision."
"But your men have a warrant for him!"
The officer changed his position and his expression hinted at
forbearance.
"That is so. On the whole, I think it should not have been issued."
"You must not let the fellow's return influence you unduly."
"Very true," said the other with a calm which Jernyngham found maddening.
"It would be unwise to infer too much from that."
"He is a bold man; he has, no doubt, counted on the effect his coming
back would have," Jernyngham urged.
"It's possible," the officer agreed.
Jernyngham's nerves had given way beneath the strain he had borne, and he
now stood up, trembling with anger.
"Am I to understand that you intend to leave the fellow alone? Now, when
he is within your reach, you will not arrest him? The scoundrel killed my
son!"
"Might I suggest your sitting down again?" said the officer calmly. "Let
me try to put the matter before you as we look at it. To begin with, we
can't very well press the charge you make against Prescott without some
proof of the victim's death, which has not been discovered yet. The
muskeg, I must remind you, was drained and nothing found. The handsome
reward you offered led to no result, though every man in the district who
had any time to spare spent it in searching the bluffs. Corporal Curtis
has made systematic investigations, but they have been fruitless."
"Corporal Curtis is a man of whose intelligence I have a very poor
opinion!" said Jernyngham hotly.
His companion smiled.
"That's a point upon which I don't altogether share your views."
"In short, you intend to let the matter drop! I must protest against such
a scandalous failure of justice! But you shall not let it drop; I warn
you that I shall apply to Ottawa, where there are people who can put upon
you the pressure that seems to be needed!"
A look of weariness crept into the officer's face.
"You have my sympathy, Mr. Jernyngham, but you can't be allowed to
interfere with the Northwest Police."
Jernyngham pulled himself together.
"I had no wish to be offensive, though I meant what I said. Suppose this
fellow goes off again--for good--as soon as he has sold his wheat?"
"That will have to be guarded against. He will be watched; if he leaves
his farm, he will be followed."
"He gave you the slip neatly on a previous occasion."
"Quite true," said the officer. "Our men are not infallible. I think I
can promise that it will not happen again." Then he rose. "I have some
business waiting and you must excuse me. I can assure you that nothing
which promises to throw any light upon the matter will be neglected."
He opened the door and politely but firmly bowed out his visitor. Then he
called Curtis, who was waiting below.
"I dare say you can guess Mr. Jernyngham's errand," he said. "Unless we
can hit on the truth before long, you'll have that gentleman in the
guard-room."
Curtis looked astonished and his superior smiled compassionately.
"I mean as a sufferer from mental derangement. Don't be communicative,
and confine yourself to reassuring generalities, if you come across him.
His mind's morbidly fixed on punishing Prescott. I don't think he can be
convinced that the man is innocent."
"I can't help meeting him, sir. He spends his time following me about. In
a way, one can't blame him for what he thinks."
"Though it doesn't agree with your conclusions? Sit down; we have a
number of things to talk about."
"Well, sir," said Curtis, "this is certainly a mixed-up case. I've said
nothing all along to disturb people's belief that it was Prescott we were
after, but if I had to corral one of the two, I'd get Wandle. The land
agency man gave us a good description of him."
His superior nodded thoughtfully.
"Prescott impersonated Cyril Jernyngham before his supposed death, and
Wandle personated him afterward; the latter with the more obvious motive.
The point is that there's no evidence of collusion, but rather
disagreement, between the two. Of course, we could arrest Wandle now."
"Yes, sir. As soon as the agent identified him, we could prove forgery
and falsification of the land sale record. He'd be safe in the guard-room
or a penitentiary."
"Just so; we will have him there sooner or later, but if he's guilty of
the more serious charge, he'd have no opportunity for giving himself
away. I'd rather he was left at large and you kept your eye on him. The
same applies to Prescott. Now I've been making a fresh study of the
diagram of the footsteps near the muskeg, and I can see no fault in the
conclusions you arrived at--only the remains can't be found."
"Sure, that's a weak point, sir. But I might mention the case of the
person who was found in a bluff a few miles from home after they'd
searched the district for six months."
"It has been in my mind. But you have other matters to report on. What
about the disturbance on the Indian reservation?"
While they discussed it, Jernyngham set out for the Leslie homestead and
on his arrival found Gertrude alone. Sitting down with a shiver, he
looked at her dejectedly.
"I have failed again. They will do nothing; there's no satisfaction to be
had," he said. "I drove out my son by arbitrary harshness, and now the
only reparation I might have made is denied me."
"You were harsh," assented Gertrude. "I have begun to realize it since we
came to Canada--one sees things differently here. But, in a sense, I
think you were not to be blamed; you acted in the belief that you were
right."
She had seldom ventured to address him with so much candor and she was
surprised at his calmness.
"Yes," he said, "it is some relief to remember that; but I was wrong."
"Then shouldn't it make you more careful not to fall into a similar error
again? You have a fixed idea in your mind and the way you dwell on it is
breaking you down; seeing you suffer is wearing me. Can't you believe
that there is room for doubt?"
"I wish I could," he said with some gentleness, recognizing the anxious
appeal in her voice. "But I imagined you were as convinced as I am of
Prescott's guilt."
"Oh," she replied miserably, "I believed I was; but I don't know what to
think!"
He noticed the distress in her face with uncomprehending sympathy. He was
fond of her, in his stern, reserved fashion, and knew she must deeply
feel the loss of her brother.
"As soon as he saw he was suspected, Prescott ran away," he continued.
"That must count against him. If he had had any motive except the wish to
escape, he would have mentioned it."
Gertrude sat silent, tormented by confused emotions. Prescott had told
her he was going to hunt for Cyril, and until she had seen his devotion
to Muriel she had felt that she must believe in him; then her mind had
been filled with jealousy and doubt. She thought she hated him; after
all, he might be guilty. It was not her part to speak in his defense;
though she felt she was acting treacherously, she could not stand up for
him.
"It is possible that the police were wrong about Cyril," she said at
length.
"I'm afraid not," said Jernyngham. "It might be urged that Prescott has
come back; but I believe that was only to sell his wheat." He broke into
a harsh laugh. "One must admit that the fellow has courage; but he won't
find it easy to escape again. Every move of his will be watched."
Gertrude sat very still for a few moments, her lips tightly pressed
together. Then she made a gesture of weariness.
"Oh," she said, "it's all so hard to bear! There's nothing but doubt and
suspense; not a ray of comfort!"
Getting up languidly she went out and left her father lost in thought.
An hour or two afterward, Prescott sat near the stove in his homestead,
moodily making entries in an account-book, when he heard voices in the
passage and looked up with a start. The next moment the door opened and
Muriel Hurst came in. His heart throbbed furiously at the sight of her;
she looked excited and eager; her rich furs enhanced her charm. He
thought she made a wonderfully attractive picture in the small, simply
furnished room, but he laid a strong restraint upon himself as he rose.
"I felt that I had to come; I wanted to show that your friends still
trusted you," she said impulsively.
He made no move to bring her a chair.
"It was a generous thought, but, considering everything, I don't know
that it was wise. Did you tell Colston or your sister that you were
coming?"
"No," she answered with a trace of confusion; "I left rather in a hurry."
Then she broke into a forced laugh. "This isn't the welcome I expected!"
Prescott's eyes gleamed.
"You know I'm glad to see you."
"Well," she said, sitting down with a hint of defiance in her air,
"that's the most important thing; though the confession had to be
extorted from you. It looked as if you wanted to get rid of me."
"I felt I ought to."
Muriel looked at him with amusement.
"Duty against inclination! It's a pity the former was beaten. But aren't
you falling into our way of thinking rather fast?"
"That isn't strange. I've had English ideas impressed on me pretty
forcibly during the last few months. But you made a statement that
surprised me. Does Colston trust me?"
"He wants to."
"That implies a doubt. And your sister; is she on my side?"
"She's reserving her opinion."
"You can't say that the Jernynghams are convinced of my innocence."
"No," said Muriel. "I think they're cruelly and unreasonably bitter."
"Then that leaves only one person with unshaken faith." His eyes rested
on the girl with deep gratitude and tenderness. "Miss Hurst, I think I
may say it's quite enough."
She looked up fearlessly, with heightened color.
"We won't pay each other compliments. Will you tell me why you went
away?"
"Yes; I went to look for Cyril Jernyngham."
Muriel made an abrupt movement and her eyes sparkled with relief which
she did not try to hide.
"Oh," she said, "that's such a complete explanation; it answers
everything! But why didn't you tell people the reason you were going? You
must have known that stealing away, as you did, would count against you!"
"I told Miss Jernyngham."
"Gertrude knew?" Muriel started. Then her face hardened. "After all, that
doesn't matter; there are much more important things. You didn't find
Cyril?"
"I followed him across three provinces and lost him in the end."
"Ah!" she said. "How unfortunate, how terribly disappointing! But tell me
all you did; I'm not asking from mere curiosity." She hesitated. "I think
you owe me that."
He told her the story of his wanderings and what he had learned about
Kermode's adventures. She listened with eager attention, and laughed now
and then.
"It's convincing on the face of it," she declared. "One feels that
everything is exactly what Cyril Jernyngham must have done. Will you tell
his father?"
"No," Prescott answered gravely. "He wouldn't believe the tale."
"But I feel it can't be doubted, after what I have heard of Cyril's
character and his conduct in England."
"You have an open mind. I think you hate injustice; you try to be fair.
That, I guess, is why you came to see me."
Muriel glanced at him sharply, and then smiled.
"I suppose it was; I felt that you have been badly treated. But I only
meant to stay a minute or two, and you seem to be busy."
He did not deny it. Conscious as he was of her charm and his longing for
her, he feared to detain her lest he should be driven into some rash
avowal.
"I'm very grateful for your confidence," he answered slowly.
"Well," said Muriel, "I must go." She rose, but stood still a moment.
"Mr. Prescott, it hurts me to see suspicion fall on my friends. You must
clear yourself somehow."
"Ah," he said moodily, "how am I to set about it?"
"For one thing, you must not go away again. That would look bad." She
hesitated. "And, from a few words I heard, I fear it would bring the
police after you."
"It seems very probable; I'll stay while I'm allowed," he said with some
bitterness and turned toward the door with her. Then a little color crept
into his face as she held out her hand. "Miss Hurst," he added, "you are
a very staunch friend."
Muriel smiled.
"It really looks as if staunchness were one of my virtues; but you see I
venture to act on my opinions without paying much attention to what other
people think. After all, that would be foolish, wouldn't it?"
Then she got into the sleigh and left him wondering what she could have
meant. He knew her friends regarded him as a man of inferior station,
who, if cleared from suspicion, might perhaps be tolerated so long as he
recognized his limitations and did not presume. Had Muriel wished to hint
that she differed from them in this respect? The thought of it set his
heart to beating fast and when he went back to his books he found it
singularly difficult to fix his mind on them.
Muriel drove rapidly to the Leslie homestead and, reaching it after dark,
joined the others at supper. During the meal, a reference to Jernyngham's
interview with the police officer gave her the opportunity she was
waiting for.
"When Mr. Prescott went away it told badly against him, because people
didn't know what his object was," she said.
She fixed her eyes on Gertrude, but the latter's face was expressionless
as she moved her plate.
"He went to find Cyril," she added.
Mrs. Colston looked up sharply; her husband started.
"If true, it's a strong point in his favor," Colston declared.
Gertrude still made no sign; but her father broke into an incredulous
smile.
"An excellent motive! It's a pity he didn't mention it before he went! It
would have carried more weight then!"
There was an awkward silence; and then Muriel said firmly:
"Still, that was why he went away."
Jernyngham looked hard at her and made a gesture which suggested that the
matter would not bear discussion. Then Colston began to talk to her, and
he was glad when the meal was finished. Muriel waited until she found
Gertrude alone in her room.
"You knew Mr. Prescott went to look for your brother, and yet you would
not say a word," she said.
"Ah!" exclaimed Gertrude sharply. "So you have seen him! You drove over
this afternoon--one might have expected that."
Muriel's eyes sparkled, but she answered calmly:
"Yes, I went to see him; but you're evading the point. What reason could
you have had for trying to injure an innocent man?"
Gertrude made an uneasy movement.
"Aren't you taking too much for granted? To begin with, his innocence is
very doubtful."
"Yet, I think you must have been convinced of it. That he told you why he
was going proves that you were on friendly terms, which would have been
impossible if you had thought him guilty. What has made you change?"
The girl's voice was stingingly scornful. It looked as if she suspected
something, and Gertrude broke into a cold smile.
"Oh," she said, "the man is clever; he has a way of creeping into one's
confidence. He appears to have had no trouble in gaining yours. After
all, however, if my father is right, I have a duty to my brother's
memory."
"Your father is so possessed and carried away by an idea that one can
almost forgive him his injustice and cruelty. You have not the same
excuse!"
Gertrude turned toward her with a formal manner.
"I think you have gone far enough. Do you intend to tell the others what
you have said to me?"
"Oh, no," answered Muriel. "It would serve no purpose. But I feel that
sooner or later you will be sorry for what you have done."
Then she went out, leaving Gertrude alone with her reflections.