JANE GILMAN.
The visitor took a seat in the rocking-chair offered her by Mrs. Avery.
"Do you remember me?" she asked, throwing back her veil so as to give an
unobstructed view of her full, florid face.
"Are you the girl who brought the boy Jed to me fourteen years ago?"
"The same. I don't find you in your old place."
"No; we--my husband and I--left the poor farm about a year since. Have
you been there?"
"Yes, I saw the new woman, and a spiteful piece she is, I'll be bound."
Mrs. Avery smiled.
"I don't admire Mrs. Fogson," she said, "but I suppose that is natural."
"She tells me the boy is no longer in the poorhouse."
"No."
"Can you tell me why he left?"
"He was ill-treated by Mr. and Mrs. Fogson."
"That woman tells me he was very troublesome."
"We never found him so, and up to a year ago he was under our charge."
"I surmised as much. Then he has grown up a good boy?"
"Excellent. I feel great affection for Jed."
"That is gratifying to my feelings, seeing I am his aunt."
Mrs. Avery regarded her visitor with surprise.
"Do you claim Jed as your nephew?" she asked.
"Certainly. He is the son of my only brother."
But for her interview with the detective Mrs. Avery would have believed
this story. As it was, she did not choose to dispute it. She only sought
to draw out her visitor so as to understand better her object in
calling.
"Are you willing to explain why it was that you were led to place your
nephew under my care?"
"Certainly. There is no secret about that _now_. My brother, who was a
blacksmith, failed, and was unable to support the boy."
"What was your brother's name?"
"Jedediah Gilman. That is why I desired to have the boy called Jed
Gilman, after his father. My name is Jane Gilman."
"Then you are not married?"
"No," said Miss Gilman. "Not but I might have been married half a dozen
times if I had wanted to. But the men are a shiftless lot, in my
opinion."
"Not all of them. I never charged my husband with being shiftless."
"Oh, well, there are exceptions. But I liked my freedom, so I am Jane
Gilman still. I may change my mind yet, and get married. There's a many
after me, and I am only thirty-two."
Mrs. Avery was too polite to question her statement, but privately
decided that the other was ten years older.
"Are you an American?" she asked.
"No, I'm English, and I'm proud to own it."
"Was Jed born in England?"
Jane Gilman hesitated, but finally answered in the affirmative.
"In what English town or village was he born?"
"Oh, lor, you wouldn't know any better if I should tell you. My brother
came over here with Jed when he was a baby, to better his fortunes. He
went out to Iowa, leaving the baby with me. But I found I couldn't get a
place with a baby on my hands, and so I took it to the Scranton
poorhouse."
"And where have you been since?"
"I went to Philadelphia and got a position there. Since then I've been
in a many places."
"I wonder you didn't write to me for some news of the baby."
"I got news of him from time to time, though I don't mean to tell you
how," answered Jane Gilman with a cunning smile. "But I've been away for
the last three years, and so I didn't know that Jed had gone off."
"You must be disappointed not to find him."
"So I am. It seems so long since I've seen the dear child," and Jane
drew out a handkerchief of ample size and pressed it to her tearless
eyes. "Is he a nice-looking boy?"
"He has a fine, frank, open face, but you'll excuse my saying that he
doesn't resemble you in the least."
"No," answered Jane, not the least bit disconcerted. "He didn't look
like the Gilmans, but like his ma's family."
"What was his mother's maiden name?"
"Fenwick," responded Jane Gilman, having no suspicion that Mrs. Avery
had heard the name before.
Mrs. Avery started.
"I've heard that name before," she said.
"Have you?" asked Jane, momentarily uneasy, but quickly recovering her
self-possession she reflected that the Averys could not possibly know
anything of Jed's real history. "I suppose there's a many Fenwicks in
the world and some of 'em in America. My brother's wife was a
good-looking woman, and the boy takes after her."
"She died young, I suppose?"
"Only three months after he was born."
"Is your brother still living?"
"No; he was killed in a railroad accident out in Iowa six months since.
He was a brakeman on the railroad. He left me a tidy sum of money, and
said that I was to look up Jed."
"This accounts for your visit, then?"
"Yes; I want to take my nephew with me and see to his education, as my
brother wished me to."
"Did Mrs. Fogson give you any idea where he was?"
"She said he had run away, but she had information that he was at Bar
Harbor, wherever that is, in the service of some rich gentleman."
"We have heard the same thing. What do you propose to do?"
"I'll have to go there, I suppose. But there is one thing I want to ask
you about."
"What is that?"
"When I left the baby with you there was a gold locket suspended from
his neck. Did you find it?"
"Yes, I found it."
"I'll thank you if you'll give it to me. I meant to take it at the time,
but I went away in a hurry, as you know, and I thought it would be safe
in your hands."
"I can't let you have it to-day, Miss Gilman."
"And why not?" demanded Jane suspiciously.
"I deposited it with a party I had confidence in, for safe keeping,"
replied Mrs. Avery.
"Then I'll be glad to have you get it as soon as you can. I want it,"
rejoined Jane Gilman sharply.
"How am I to feel sure you are entitled to it?" asked Mrs. Avery.
"If I am not, who is, I'd like to know? I'm the one that left the boy
with you at the poorhouse."
"I presume this is true."
"Of course it's true. I'll tell you what, Mrs. Avery, I'm not much
pleased with your trying to keep the locket. Are you sure you haven't
sold or pawned it?"
"Yes, I am sure of that. But perhaps I shall not have to make you wait
long for it. The gentleman in whose hands I placed it is in this house
at this very minute."
Jane Gilman looked very much surprised.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Detective Peake answered for himself. He stepped into the room from the
small bedroom and held up the locket.
"Is this the one?" he asked.
"Yes," answered the woman eagerly. "Give it to me."
Mr. Peake quietly put it back into his pocket.
"Not till I have asked you a few questions," he answered.
"What right have you to ask me questions?" asked Jane defiantly.
"I will assume that I have the right," the detective answered. "Whose
miniatures are those in the locket?"
"They are my brother and his wife."
"Your brother doesn't seem to look like you, Miss Gilman."
"Perhaps you know better than I who it is," said Jane sullenly.
"Well, perhaps so."
"And who do you say they are?"
"Sir Charles and Laura Fenwick of Fenwick Hall, England."
Jane Gilman started to her feet in astonishment.
"Who told you?" she asked hoarsely.
"It is not necessary for me to tell you. It is enough that I am
commissioned by the boy's mother to find him and restore him to her.
There may be trouble in store for you, Miss Jane Gilman," he added
significantly.
Jane Gilman fanned herself vigorously and seemed very ill at ease.
"However," continued the detective, "you can save yourself and secure a
handsome reward by giving me all the help you can, and making full
confession of your stealing the child, and telling who instigated you to
do it."
The woman hesitated, but her hesitation was brief.
"Will you promise this?" she asked.
"Yes. I am the confidential agent of Lady Fenwick, who is now in
America."
"Then I'll do it. Guy Fenwick hasn't treated me right, and I don't mind
if I do go back on him. It was he that hired me to make off with little
Robert, though I didn't let him know what I did with him."
"And what was your present object?"
"To take the boy away and make Sir Guy pay a good round sum for my
keeping the secret."