The famous trial was over; the "sensation" was at an end. The accused
Claude Lennox stood once more free among his fellow-men. Loud cheers
greeted him, loud acclamations followed him. He was the popular idol.
His friends surrounded him. "Bravo, Claude, old friend! I thought it
would come right. We knew you were innocent. But what a terrible thing
circumstantial evidence is!" Claude stood in the midst of a large circle
of well-wishers. Colonel Lennox, whose anger had all vanished when he
found his nephew in real danger, stood by his side. He seemed to have
grown older and grayer.
"It was a narrow escape for you, Claude," he said, and his voice
trembled and his limbs shook.
"My thanks are due to Heaven," said the young man, reverently. "Humanly
speaking, I owe my life to that brave girl who has risked everything to
save me. Oh, uncle, where is she? We are talking idly here when I owe my
life to her; and I know all she has suffered and lost to save me."
They went back hurriedly to the court, but there was no trace of
Hyacinth. People stood in little groups in the street, and of every
group she was the subject of conversation.
"I shall never forget her," said one woman, "if I live to be a hundred
years old. They may talk of heroines if they like, but I never heard of
one braver than she has been."
"Did you hear that, uncle?" cried Claude. "How they admire her! She is
noble, good, and true. I know what it has cost her to come forward; I
know what a home she has had--her people all so rigid, so cold, so
formal. How am I to thank her?"
"Marry her at once, Claude," said Colonel Lennox.
"She would not have me. You do not know her, uncle; she is truth itself.
How many girls do you think would have had the resolution to turn back
on such a journey as she had begun? She does not love me, I am sure; but
after what has happened to-day, I would die for her. Where is she? My
mother must take her home at once."
They made inquiries, but there was no trace of her. In the general
confusion that ensued, amid the crowding of friends to congratulate
Claude, and the hurrying of witnesses, no one had noticed her. She had
been the centre of observation for a brief interval, and then she had
disappeared, and no one had noticed which way she went. Colonel Lennox
and Claude were both deeply grieved; they sought Hyacinth everywhere,
they sent messengers all over the town, but no trace of her could be
found. Claude was almost desperate; he had made every arrangement--his
mother was to take her back to Belgrave Square, and he himself was to go
at once to Bergheim to win Hyacinth's pardon from her relatives there.
"There is nothing," he said to himself, over and over again, "that I
would not do for her."
He was bitterly disappointed; he would not leave Loadstone until every
instruction had been given for communication with him or with Colonel
Lennox, if any news should be heard of her. When this was done, he
complied with his mother's anxious entreaty and returned with her to
London.
"It has been a narrow escape," she said, with a shudder, "and a terrible
disgrace. I cannot bear to think of it. You, with your unblemished name,
your high position and prospects in life, to be accused of wilful
murder! I do not believe you will ever live it down, Claude!"
"Yes, he will," cried the colonel, heartily; "whoever remembers his
disgrace, as you term it, will remember also that he was saved by the
truth and bravery of the finest and noblest girl in England."
"I will redeem my character, mother," said Claude, earnestly; "this has
made a true man of me. I was not very earnest before, but I have paid a
terrible price for my boyish escapade. The future with me shall atone
for the past."
"The boy is right enough," cried the colonel; "what he says is perfectly
true. He wanted more of earnest purpose, and the ordeal that he has just
undergone will give it to him. He shall not suffer for the mistake. I
will say now what I have never said before--Claude shall be my heir;
and," added the colonel, with unconscious egotism, "the world will
easily pardon the youthful escapades of the master of Oakton Park."
So Claude's mother did not return quite broken-hearted to London. The
trial had been a nine days' wonder--a great sensation; but people seemed
more inclined to blame the stupidity of Hyacinth's relatives than the
young man, whose fault had been simply that of loving a lovely girl too
well. Mrs. Lennox watched anxiously to see if her son had lost caste;
but she could not perceive that he had. He was heir of the rich old
Indian colonel--heir of Oakton Park. The Duchess of Grandecourt invited
him to Rummere Park, and Lady Ansley gave him pretty clearly to
understand that her daughter knew how to appreciate him.
"No great harm has been done," sighed the anxious mother, "and I may
thank that brave young girl for matters being no worse."
* * * * *
On the third day after the assizes had begun a gentleman--a
stranger--drove up hurriedly to the Loadstone court-house. His handsome
face was white and haggard, his eyes were dim with fear. He looked as
though he had been travelling night and day, and had known neither sleep
nor rest. He sprung impatiently from the carriage and hurried up the
steps of the court-house. He saw one of the officers standing inside,
and he went up to him eagerly.
"Has the trial for murder commenced?" he asked.
"It is over, sir. It was finished the day that it was begun."
"Tell me all about it, please. Make haste--my time is precious. Was
there a young lady--did a young lady come to give evidence?"
"Yes; and her evidence saved the prisoner's life, sir. I will tell you
as briefly as I can."
He repeated what had taken place, and as he spoke, an expression of pity
came over the handsome face of the listener.
"Poor child," he murmured to himself--"my brave, noble love! What was
the young lady's name?" he asked, aloud.
"Vaughan, sir--I remember it well--Hyacinth Vaughan."
"Thank you," said the gentleman, remunerating his informant. "And now
can you tell me where she is? Where did she go after the trial?"
"There are many who would like to know that, sir. Colonel Lennox has
offered a hundred pounds to anyone who will bring him news of her. I
should say every inch of ground in Loadstone had been searched over and
over again."
Adrian Darcy--for it was he--looked at the man in bewildered surprise.
"You don't mean to tell me that she is lost?" he cried.
"She is indeed, sir. There have been advertisements, and rewards have
been offered; but all has been in vain. The gentleman whose life she
saved--Mr. Lennox--is almost wild about her disappearance. But, if you
are interested in the case, read the report in the _Loadstone Journal_.
It is a splendid one."
"Lost one!" repeated Adrian. "It is impossible! Oh, my darling, my
child-like, innocent love, what terrible fate has befallen you?"