THE PLOT
But that Canning fairly ran away, George would have stopped him to ask
further questions. He had told much which was new and strange and
explained a great deal: but his last remark hinted at further
difficulties.
Apparently, Hale had not yet given up all idea of procuring the money,
although how he hoped to do so in the absence of the child, George
could not understand. Of course, Walker felt very certain that Hale
had kept back the amethyst cross when sending the jewels to Lord
Charvington, but its production by Hale would have no effect on Mr.
Jabez. The lawyer wanted the cross to be produced by the child of
Katherine Morse--whatever her married name might be and, according to
Hale himself, the dying woman had no child. Mrs. Walker, indeed, had
stated that her sister had written about a sick child, but this had
probably died. If not, surely during all these twenty years the child
would have come forward to recover its inheritance.
George was naturally puzzled with this new development, and decided
that to learn the truth it would be best to go to the fountain head.
That is, if Hale intended to use the cross to procure the money he
would have to produce it to Mr. Jabez in his office in Lincoln's Inn
Fields. It was thus best to go at once to Mr. Jabez and inform him of
what Canning had said about this new plot. What Maud Ellis had to do
with the matter it was impossible to say; George could no more
understand her connection with the matter than he could understand why
Lady Charvington had employed Captain Sargent to get her the cross.
What possible interest could she have in the amethyst cross? And why
had she told a deliberate lie about its being in the library?
George was quite bewildered with the complicated state of affairs. And
Jabez, as he believed, alone could solve the mystery.
George duly gave his mother Lord Charvington's message. She received
it in silence, but with a change of colour, which did not escape his
notice.
"Mother," he asked abruptly, "what do you know about Lord
Charvington?"
"He was not Lord Charvington when I knew him," confessed Mrs. Walker,
after a pause, "but Philip Hale. Hale, you know, is the family name
and Lesbia's father bears it as a cousin. Charvington had not come
into the title some twenty and more years ago. I knew him very well
and liked him," she sighed, "but he was always weak."
George looked incredulous. "Weak," he echoed, "he seems to me to be a
very strong man and one who knows his own mind."
"He has no doubt learned by experience," replied Mrs. Walker, "and
heaven only knows how badly he needed to learn. So he is going to
speak at last. He should have done so long ago."
"About what, mother?"
Mrs. Walker pursed up her mouth. "Never mind, George, I prefer that
Lord Charvington should tell his own story. If he does, Walter Hale
will find himself in trouble, and I shall be glad of that. I have
waited long to see him punished: soon I shall be satisfied."
"Why do you hate Hale so, mother?"
"I have every cause to hate him," cried Mrs. Walker vindictively, and
her eyes glittered. "Years ago I loved Walter Hale."
"You--loved--that--man?" said her son slowly.
"What is there strange in that?" snapped his mother, trying to keep
her restless hands still. "He was handsome and clever and rich. I
loved him and I thought that he loved me. I gave him my heart and
found out only too late that he was playing with me. He was always
cruel and wicked and hard, selfish to the core and thinking only of
himself. We were engaged," added Mrs. Walker, drooping her head, and
in a lower tone, "and he confessed then that he had very little money.
He believed that I was an heiress, and so I was to the extent of fifty
thousand pounds. My father did not like him and declared that if I
married Walter he would cut me off with a shilling. I did not care,
for I loved the man for himself: but he loved me for my money, and
when he learned my father's decision he threw me over, and went after
some other woman who was rich."
"Lesbia's mother?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Walker, pretending indifference; "but he
vanished out of my life, and I heard that he was courting this
heiress, in the hope of making a good marriage for his pocket. I was
left alone, and I married your father Aylmer Walker, not because I
loved him, but because he was kind and sympathetic. Aylmer was a
spendthrift and wasted all my money; all the same he was kind-hearted
and not a scoundrel like Walter Hale. Then you were born and shortly
afterwards misfortunes came. I was only married four years when
your father broke his neck leaving me penniless. Then Kate eloped
with"--Mrs. Walker paused--"she eloped, that is all I can say. I saw
Walter Hale again and learned, and learned--oh!" he rose and wrung out
her hands, "what a villain the man is. But he shall be punished now. I
swear if Charvington will not punish him, I shall punish him myself."
"But mother----"
"Not a word," cried Mrs. Walker passionately, "I can't bear to discuss
the matter. When we meet at Charvington's place, the long-hidden truth
will come to light. Until then----" she stopped, closed her mouth,
shook her head, and left the room hastily.
George wondered what could be the hidden truth she referred to, but
could come to no conclusion. He wrote a letter to Lesbia saying that
she was to come to Lord Charvington's place, and stating that he would
call to take her over. Then he smoked a pipe and retired to bed,
intending the next day to go to London and see Mr. Jabez in Lincoln's
Inn Fields. Mrs. Walker did not put in an appearance again on that
evening. Of course George, as a lover, lay awake and thought of
Lesbia. He was sorely inclined to postpone his visit to Mr. Jabez, and
go over to Marlow on the morrow, but it was necessary to execute
business before indulging in pleasure, since, when everything was
settled, he would have Lesbia beside him always as his dear wife. He
therefore restrained his longing for a sight of her face, and
gradually dropped off to sleep.
Next morning Mrs. Walker had her breakfast in bed and did not see her
son. George left a message that he would return in the evening, and
went to Henley in his boat to catch the mid-day train. He soon arrived
in London, and without wasting time went to see Mr. Jabez.
The old lawyer had a large and expensive office in Lincoln's Inn
Fields, and from the number of clerks was apparently much sought after
as a solicitor. He received Walker as soon as the young man sent in
his card, as it seemed that George had luckily arrived during the
slack season. "A week ago," said Mr. Jabez, in his precise way, "I
should have had to keep you waiting for some hours."
The room in which Jabez received his client--as George was--was a
large apartment with a painted ceiling and three long windows looking
out on to the gardens of the square. Probably in Georgian days it had
held brilliant company, but now, since the tide of fashion had rolled
farther to the west, it was given over to the dry-as-dust details of
the law. Jabez looked as hatchet-faced as ever, and still wore his
large blue spectacles to aid his weak eyes. He welcomed George
politely in his dry way, and waited to hear what the young man had to
say.
"Lord Charvington wants you to come down to The Court the day after
to-morrow at three o'clock," said George abruptly.
"Why?" demanded Jabez quietly, and more puzzled than he chose to
admit.
"I can only answer you by telling you all that has taken place,"
answered the young man, and forthwith related what he knew.
Nursing his chin in the hollow of his hand, Jabez crossed his lean
legs and listened quietly enough, nodding at intervals. "I thought it
would come to this," he observed, when the young man ended.
"Come to what?"
"An explanation."
"Of what?"
"Of many things which will astonish you," said Jabez drily. "Of course
I was acquainted with Lord Charvington when he was merely the
Honourable Philip Hale. Then----" Jabez suspended further confidences.
"It is best to allow Lord Charvington to speak for himself."
"Do you know what he intends to say?"
"Partly. And yet," mused the solicitor, looking at his neat shoes,
"there may be something interesting which I do not know. However, the
main point is that I shall arrange to be there at the stated time. The
gathering promises to be interesting. The cross," Jabez stopped, "h'm!
yes, the cross. I see now how Hale got it."
"He stole it from Lady Charvington, who procured it from Sargent, who
employed Canning to thieve it from me," explained George.
"So you said before, and I am not so stupid as to require a double
explanation," said Jabez crustily, "but I am wondering how Hale hopes
to get the money by means of this cross. Certainly he declares that he
has found the child, and----"
"What!" cried George, starting to his feet in amazement.
Jabez looked up and raised a hand. "Don't speak so loud, your voice
goes through my head," he said in his testy manner. "Yes," he searched
amongst some papers, "here is a letter from Walter Hale saying that he
will call to-morrow at noon with the child of Katherine Morse----"
"Doesn't he mention my aunt's married name?"
"No," answered Jabez, sucking in his cheeks, "and that is what makes
me suspicious of the affair. However, what you have told me to-day
about Lady Charvington's share in the business, and her husband's
attitude gives me an idea. Send a wire to Lord Charvington asking him
to meet you here to-morrow. Then you can both see Mr. Hale and this
child."
"I should like to, but what use----"
"There! There. I have no time to waste. Go and do what you are told,"
said Jabez, rising with an angry gesture. "I may be wrong and I may be
right. But putting two and two together----" he stopped and walked to
the window, musingly, "yes, I believe it may be so."
"What may be so?" questioned George, picking up his hat.
Jabez wheeled crossly. "Oh, you are there still. Go away and send that
wire. At noon to-morrow, bring Lord Charvington here. Good-day," he
rang the bell, "get out, young Walker, you are taking up my time."
Wondering at the behaviour of the lawyer, George departed and
forthwith sent a prepaid wire to Charvington, asking him to come to
the Lincoln's Inn Fields office. He had half a mind to go down and
explain personally, but as he could not explain very much he relied on
the wire, hoping that Charvington's curiosity would be sufficiently
aroused to make him obey the summons. Late in the afternoon an answer
came intimating that Charvington would be at Jabez's office at the
appointed time. George was greatly pleased, as he foresaw that Hale's
little plot would in some way be frustrated, Charvington apparently
knew of much to Hale's disadvantage; hence the wily old lawyer had
induced him to be present. Having come to this conclusion Walker wired
to his mother saying that he would remain in London, and employed his
evening in going to a music hall. He positively had to do so, for if
he had remained alone in his hotel brooding over riddles which he
could by no means solve, he felt that his brain would not bear the
strain. Still, in a vague way, he felt that all things were being
shaped to a happy end and that light was coming out of the darkness
which had enshrouded things for so long.
At a quarter to twelve in the morning George met Charvington in the
semi-courtyard in front of the mansion, wherein Jabez had his office.
The elder man jumped out of the hansom, in which he had driven from
the railway station, and walked towards the young one with an elastic
step, after he had paid his fare.
"What's all this, Walker?" he demanded abruptly. "Why did you wire for
me to come up on this day, and at this hour, and to this place?"
"Come upstairs to Mr. Jabez and he'll explain," said George, leading
the way up the steps, "we cannot linger here. Hale may see us."
"Hale," Charvington followed hurriedly and caught the young man's arm,
"and why is Hale coming here?"
"He has found--so he says--my cousin."
"Your--cousin?"
"My aunt's child--the heir to the property which Mr. Jabez has held
for so long."
Charvington stopped on the landing. "So Hale is going to anticipate
me," he muttered, and without waiting to be announced he opened the
door of Jabez's private room and strode in. The lawyer looked up
irritably.
"I'm engaged. You, Lord Charvington? Well, I might have guessed as
much from your abrupt entry. You haven't changed much in your
impulsive ways."
Lord Charvington threw down his hat and stick and gloves and flung
himself into a chair. "I have changed very much in looks," he
retorted; "however there is no time for these personalities. Walker,"
he indicated the young man who had followed him closely, "tells me
that Hale intends to produce the heiress to his aunt's property."
Jabez looked inquisitively at Charvington through his blue spectacles.
"I believe so," he said quietly and cautiously, with a glance at his
watch. "Hale will bring the girl here in a few minutes."
"It's a girl then," sneered Charvington.
"You mentioned the word 'heiress' yourself," remarked Jabez, with
emphasis.
"A mere guess. And what of the cross?"
"Hale says that the girl will produce it."
"Humph! I don't believe that the girl will produce stolen property.
You know that the cross was stolen from my house?"
"So I believe," said Jabez politely.
"Yes, Walker here told me, though how it got into my library----"
"I can tell you that now, Lord Charvington," interposed George, "as I
heard the truth from Canning the other day. Sargent employed Canning
to steal the cross in order to pass it over to your wife."
Charvington bounded from his chair. "What did she want with it?"
"I can't say--I don't----"
"Hush," said Jabez, who, at the sound of wheels in the courtyard, had
gone to one of the tall windows; "here come Hale and his heiress. Go
into the next room with Walker, Lord Charvington. When I require you I
shall summon you."
"But why do you bring me here at all?" demanded Charvington brusquely.
Jabez looked straight at him and his long fingers played a tune on the
table. "I have an idea," he said gravely; "you may be able to tell me
if that idea is correct."
"What is the idea?"
"I cannot tell it to you, until I see this heiress."
"Very good." Charvington sat down again. "Introduce her and Hale."
"No! No!" said Jabez anxiously, "that would never do. Wait until I
hear Hale's story and then----"
"Hale will only tell you a pack of lies," interrupted Charvington
violently. "And besides he stole the cross and----"
Jabez put his hand against the breast of the angry speaker and pushed
him gently towards a side door. "Go in there and wait," he said
insistently. "You also, Walker."
"No," cried Charvington, "I shan't."
"If you don't," said the solicitor very quietly, "I shall wash my
hands of this matter. Already Hale and his heiress are waiting in the
ante-chamber, and if your voice is recognised, they will not come in."
"Why not?"
"Because I believe that this is another of Hale's wicked schemes. Let
me hear the whole invention he has made up, and then I can call upon
you to substantiate the story."
"But I can't wait. I want to know who this girl is."
"Can't you guess?" demanded Jabez, leading him deftly to the door of
the inner room where he wished him to wait.
"I can do more than guess, I know."
"Humph," muttered Jabez, "I thought so."
"You thought what?"
"Never mind. If you know rightly, you will be able to help me."
Charvington stamped. "I believe it's all lies. I want to see this
girl."
"Well," said Jabez resignedly. "I shall do a thing I have never done
before since you will not be quiet otherwise. In the panel of this
door there is a small knot-hole. Look in and see if----"
Charvington rushed into the room, dragging Walker after him, and
closed the door. Shortly afterwards they heard the entrance of two
people. The old man applied an eye to the knot-hole. Then he laughed
silently and made George apply his eye. "Look at the heiress," he said
sneeringly.
Walker looked eagerly and saw--Maud Ellis.