This announcement of Lionel Crawford head an electrical effect upon
Dominique Lavirotte. Notwithstanding Dr. O'Malley's strict orders to
the contrary, the Frenchman sat bolt upright in the bed, looking
ghastly in his bandages, and stared at the old man.
"_You_, Dora's grandfather!" he cried. His eyes starting in their
sockets, and bloodless lips remaining open when he had spoken. "_You_,
Dora's grandfather! You are telling me a hideous lie. For what purpose
are you telling me this hideous lie?"
"Hush!" cried the old man, alarmed lest Lavirotte in his excitement
should make allusion in similarly loud tones to his great secret. "You
must not excite yourself. Someone may hear you, and then how should we
be?"
Lavirotte stared still, but uttered no word. The power of speech was
taken from him by the nature of the statement made by the other man.
Had this dark-visaged ogre come here to worm the history of his
perfidy to Dora from him, in order to be avenged on him out of a
confession from his own mouth? Was this man about to add to his mental
tortures a storm of intolerable abuse, or, taking advantage of his
helpless state, finish the work which the night of that encounter had
left undone?
"You seem to misunderstand my intention altogether. I assure you all I
have said and have to say is for your good, for our good, for the good
of our great object." Like all other men who have ever been possessed
by the idea of discovering hidden treasure, all pursuits and
considerations seemed of comparatively little moment compared with the
thought which possessed him. Like all other such men, he dreaded more
than anything else the chance that his secret might become known to
anyone not absolutely essential to success.
Lavirotte fell back, relieved and exhausted. There was no mistaking
the wild earnestness of this strange-eyed enthusiast. "Go on," he said
faintly.
"There can be nothing simpler or, I think, better, than I suggest,"
continued Lionel Crawford. "I cannot say, I do not know, how long yet
it may take me to get down to where the plate and jewels lie buried.
It may be a year, it may be more or less, six months at least, and not
farther off than a year-and-a-half. You are, unfortunately, sceptical
of the existence of any such treasure. I am as sure it is there as
though I myself had buried it."
"Why not then use the money you speak of in employing men to dig for
it under your superintendence?" asked Lavirotte, peevishly.
"Do not talk so loud." Lavirotte had, because of his weakness, spoken
almost in a whisper. "Do not talk such nonsense. Employ men to dig,
and have the whole thing town-talk in twenty-four hours! Let a lot of
mere day labourers within the magic spell, within touch of the thing I
have brooded over and kept secretly apart from all the rest of the
world for years and years! What profanation! I would rather forego all
hope of ever enjoying final triumph than let the shrine of my dreams
be defiled by unsympathetic hands!"
The old man was once again back in dreamland, and unconscious that the
present had any real existence, save that it was the roadway to the
future.
"But if there is any likelihood of long delay in--in finding this
treasure" (Lavirotte believed his visitor would come on the chests of
precious articles belonging to the great Lord Tuscar on the same day
that someone else found the philosopher's stone), "you will want all
the money you have, and cannot afford to give it to me for the purpose
of spending it on a speculation which may be as likely to succeed
as----," he was about to say "your own," but substituted, "the search
for the North Pole. It seems to me that there is no earthly use in my
even thinking of such a thing. I am beaten by fate, and the best thing
I can do is to give in."
This speech instantly recalled the old man to the subject in hand
and the immediate surroundings of the case. Apart from his ruling
passion--the hidden gold and stones--he was simple, almost childlike.
But anything which touched his darling project roused up in him a
fiery spirit of intelligence no one under ordinary circumstances could
anticipate.
"No, no!" cried he. "You must not even think of giving in. You must
make up your mind to succeed. You must succeed, not only for your own
sake, but for the sake of Dora as well."
A faint smile came over Lavirotte's face. "Tell me more. Tell me more.
You give me hope. You make me aspire." The peevishness was fading out
of Lavirotte's manner and face. "It may be possible for me to redeem
my character and my credit yet."
"Of course it is quite possible, quite easy for you to do so. There is
not the least difficulty about the matter. Is it a bargain?"
After a little more talk it was arranged that Lavirotte should take
the money as an advance on his share of the great Tuscar hoard.
"And now," said Lavirotte, "dear Mr. Crawford, don't you think that in
this matter of making love to one girl while I was engaged to another,
I deserved the very severest instead of the most merciful treatment at
your hands?"
"Well," said the old man, "that's all past and gone now, and we all
grow wiser as we grow older. It will, I suppose, be some days before
you are up and about again. The landlord of this place has been very
wise, and by his aid I have been able to keep all knowledge of the
circumstances of your case from Dora. There is no need why she should
hear anything about it now, and as you are on the way to recovery, and
we need not be anxious about your health, I fancy the best thing we
can do is to get her away as quickly as possible from this. What do
you think?"
"I don't know," said Lavirotte, gloomily. "You see, if she does not
hear the truth now it will be like practising another deceit upon her.
I shall have to act a part, and not a very creditable one."
Crawford became uneasy. He knew too little of Dora to be able to judge
how she would receive the whole story, and it seemed now to him a
matter of the first importance that he should lose no possible hold of
Lavirotte. "You see," said he, "she will be shocked to learn that you
have been hurt in an encounter, and are not ill in a natural way as
she supposes. Then you will have to explain almost everything, and it
might be better that portion of the explanation should be postponed."
Lavirotte moved restlessly. "It is very difficult," he said. "I own it
is very difficult. One hardly can know what to do. I want to spare
her, of course, if I can; and I want to put myself right with her if I
can."
"Then," said the old man, with a sudden gleam of intelligence in his
eyes, "let mercy for her prevail. You see you have been in fault.
Suffer your own explanation to lie over for the present in order to
spare her feelings. Later on you can put yourself right with her."
Lavirotte sighed, and then asked, languidly:
"What do you propose?"
"That I should take her back with me to London at once, telling her
that you are not allowed to see her in your present state of health;
but that immediately on your recovery you will follow us to London,
and that, in the meantime, I will take care of her."
"Perhaps, after all," said the injured man, "that is the best plan."
Now that the prospect of an immediate meeting between him and Dora
grew dim, he lost interest in the conversation, and the excitement of
anticipation being withdrawn, the weakness of his condition asserted
itself.
After some more talk, it was finally agreed between the two men that
Lionel Crawford's suggestion should be carried out. Then it became the
duty of the latter to inform Dora of this decision.
He found the girl in a state of the greatest excitement and anxiety.
"Oh!" she cried, "I thought you would never come. May I not see him
now?"
The old man took her by the hands and led her back to the seat she had
risen from on his entrance. "My dear child," he said, "there is not
the least cause for your anxiety about Dominique's health. He is
progressing most favourably. But it would be exceedingly unwise that
he should see you now."
"But you said I might see him. You promised I might see him!"
"Since I told you so I have been with him and learned more of his
case. Although he is most anxious to see you, he is persuaded that
doing so would be injurious now. He will be all right in a few days.
We have talked the whole matter over. I intend assisting him to a much
better position than he now holds. I am authorised by him to make all
preparations for your marriage."
The young girl coloured, partly by surprise and partly by bashfulness.
Lionel Crawford saw that these words had made an impression favourable
to his views. "If we want to get him well and make him happy soon," he
continued, "he and I agree that the best thing to be done is that you
and I should instantly set out for London."
"But it is very hard to have to go without seeing him," said the girl,
confused by the new and unexpected turn affairs had taken, and elated
by the assurance that the difficulties of her lover's worldly position
were at an end, and that when next they met it would be to part no
more.
The old man saw that he had carried his point. He rose briskly, and
said: "The sooner we are off the better. There is no use in our
staying here an hour. Being so near him when you may not see him would
only add to your uncomfortableness. I will go and see at once how and
when we are to get back. Wait for me here."
As he reached the bar, he found two young men there. One was in the
employment of the railway at Rathclare, the other in the post-office
of that town. Their backs were towards him, and they did not hear him
entering the room.
"Maher told me," said the Railway, "that an old man and a young girl
have come to see Lavirotte. That's the girl, no doubt, he made love to
in London. Maher wouldn't tell me their names; but I'll find out all
about them when I get to London."
"You may not find it so easy, my young man," thought Lionel Crawford.
"I have kept a secret for years."