Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter

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Madeline Payne, the Detective's Daughter Page 12

by Lawrence L. Lynch


  CHAPTER XI.

  A GLEAM OF LIGHT.

  A few moments after Claire's door had closed for the last time,Madeline came cautiously from her room, her slippered feet making nosound on the softly carpeted floor. Passing Claire's door, she pausedbefore another, opened it gently, and stood in Olive Girard'sbed-chamber.

  Evidently she was expected, for a light was burning softly and Olivesat near it with a book in her hand, in an attitude of waiting.

  Madeline seated herself at the little table as if quite accustomed tosuch interviews, and said in a low tone:

  "I am so glad you came to-night; are you too tired for a long talk?"

  "No; tell me all that has happened since I have been absent."

  "Olive, I must go away; back to Bellair," said Madeline, abruptly.

  "Madeline, you are mad! To Bellair? Why, _he_ is there often now."

  "He will not find me out, never fear. I _must_ go to Bellair withinthe week."

  Olive leaned forward and scanned the girl's face closely and long. Atlast, she said: "Madeline, what is it you meditate? tell me."

  "Going back to Bellair; keeping an eye upon the proceedings of Mr.Arthur; finding out what game that man and woman are playing there;and baffling and punishing them all."

  She had been kept informed, through Henry, into whose hands had fallena letter in Cora's handwriting, bearing the Bellair postmark, andaddressed to Lucian Davlin, who, so Henry said, "went down, on andoff," and always appeared satisfied with the result of his journey.

  Olive argued long against this resolution, but found it impossible todissuade Madeline.

  "It is useless," the girl said, firmly. "I should have died but forthe expectation of a time when I could be avenged, and this time Imust bring about. All through my convalescence I have pondered how Icould best avenge my mother's wrongs, and my own. Now Providence hasthrown together the two men who are my enemies; why, I do not yetknow, but perhaps it is that I may make the one a weapon against theother. And now I want to ask you some questions."

  "Olive knows nothing of Edward Percy, and--I don't wantto tell her just yet."--page 121.]

  "Ask, then."

  "I shall touch upon a painful subject, and I will tell you why. Afteryou went away, the story of your sorrow remained with me. So I thoughtthe ground all over, and formed some conclusions. Do you wish to hearthem?"

  Olive nodded, wearily.

  "You have told me," said Madeline, assuming a calm, business-liketone, "that Lucian Davlin testified against your husband at his trial.Now the wounded man, Percy, stated that he recognized the man whostruck him?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, what was Davlin's testimony?"

  "That he saw my husband stealing in the direction of the place wherethe wounded man was found, but a few moments before he was struck,wearing the same hat and hunting-jacket that the injured man testifiedwas worn by his would-be assassin."

  "Oh!" Madeline knitted her brows in thought a moment; then--"Was thecoat and hat Mr. Girard's?"

  "Yes; he had thrown them off in the afternoon, while the heat wasintense, and had fallen asleep. When he awoke, he heard them callinghim to supper. It was late in the evening when he remembered his coatand hat, and went back to look for them. He went just at the time whenthe man must have been struck, and his absence told against him in theevidence."

  "Did he find his garments?"

  "No; they were found by others, not where he had left them, but nearerthe scene of the crime."

  "Ah! And who was the first to discover the injured man?"

  "Why, I believe it was Mr. Davlin." Olive looked more and moresurprised at each question. "Why do you ask these things, Madeline?"

  The girl made a gesture of impatience. "Wait," she said, "I willexplain in good time." Again she considered. "Was there anyill-feeling between your husband and Davlin?"

  "There was no open misunderstanding, but I know there was mutualdislike. Philip saw that Davlin was making systematic efforts to winmoney from the party, and had therefore persuaded one or two of hisfriends to give gaming little countenance. No doubt he kept money outof the man's pocket."

  "And what was the standing of that man and the victim, this Percy?"

  "They were much together, and Philip tells me he had sometimes fanciedthat Davlin held some power over Percy. Davlin had won largely fromhim, and the man seemed much annoyed, but paid over the money withoutdemur."

  "And now, how did your husband stand toward the injured man?"

  "That is the worst part of the story. They had had high words onlythat very day. Philip had been acquainted with Percy at school, and heknew so much that was not in his favor, that he was unable to concealhis real opinion of the man at all times. One day high words arose,and Philip uttered a threat, which was misconstrued, after the attackupon Percy. They said he threatened his life. But Percy knew that onlyhis honor was meant. Davlin knew this, too; must have known it, for hewas aware that the two had met before they came together with theparty."

  "I can not see why Lucian Davlin should be your husband's enemy."

  "I can understand that he hated Philip for the same reason that athief hates the light, and Philip had balked his plans."

  "True; and yet--"

  "And yet?" inquiringly.

  "Bad as the man is, I can see but one motive that could induce evenhim to swear away the liberty, almost the life, of a man who neverwronged him."

  "Still, he did it," said Olive, with a weary sigh.

  "True; and he did it for a motive."

  "And that motive--"

  "Was the strongest instinct of the human race."

  "What?" eagerly.

  "Self-preservation."

  Olive started up with a half cry. "Madeline, in heaven's name, _what_do you mean!"

  "That Lucian Davlin threw suspicion upon the innocent to screen theguilty," said the girl, in a low, firm tone.

  "And the guilty one, then?"

  "Himself. Do you think him too good for it?" sneeringly.

  "No, no! oh, no! But this I had never thought of--yet it may be true."

  She fell into deep thought; after a time she started up. "I mustconsult a detective immediately," she said.

  "You must do no such thing," cried Madeline, springing to her feet;"why did not the detectives find this out before? Because they havenot my reasons for hunting that man down. _I_ found this clue, if itbe one. I claim it; it is my right, and I will have it. If he is to beundone, it shall be by my hands. I swear it!"

  They faced each other in silence.

  Slowly Olive recalled to her countenance and voice its usual sweetcalm, and then seated herself and talked long and earnestly withMadeline.

  The little bronze clock on the mantel was on the stroke of two whenthe conference ended, and Madeline retired to her own room, but not tosleep. She sat and thought until the dawn shone in at her window.

  One link was missing from the chain; no motive had been discovered foran attack on Percy by Davlin.

  "But I will find it," she muttered. Then, as a new thought occurred toher, she caught her breath. "Claire's lover is named Percy; can it bethe same? Why did not this occur to me sooner? Why did I not ask forhis first name, and a description of him? If this man and Edward Percyshould be one and the same! Pshaw! the name is not an uncommon one,and it may be only a coincidence. But your face is a bad one, EdwardPercy, and I shall know it when I see it again."

  The sun was not high in the heavens ere Madeline was astir, for hernature was such that strong excitement rendered rest impossible.Moving impatiently about the grounds, she saw a familiar formapproaching through the shrubbery, and hastened to meet it.

  The black visage of Henry beamed with satisfaction as he made ahurried obeisance and placed in her hand a letter, saying:

  "Master was preparing for a two days' journey when this letter came.He threw it into his desk, and bade me lock it, and bring him the key.His back was turned, and I took the letter before I locked the desk.It was a long one,
and from _her_; I thought you might want to seeit."

  "Right, Henry," said the girl, quietly, as she opened the letter. "Youwill wait for it?"

  "Yes, miss; it must not be missing when he comes."

  "Certainly not."

  She returned to the letter, and this is what she read:

  OAKLEY, October 11.

  LUCIAN, _Mon Brave_:

  I am in a fine predicament--have made a startling discovery. Mr. A----has been sick, and the mischief is to pay; and his sickness has brought some ugly facts to light.

  The old man is _not_ the sole proprietor of the Oakley wealth. That girl who ran away so mysteriously, and has never been heard of, will inherit at his death. He can bequeath his widow nothing. Oh, to know where that girl is! If she is alive, my work is useless, my time is wasted. I think the old chap must have driven her to desperation, for he raved in his delirium of her and her words at parting. They must have been "searchers."

  Well, to add to the general interest, Miss Arthur, aged fifty or so, is here. She is a juvenile old maid, who has a fortune in her own right, and so must be cultivated. She dresses like a sixteen-year-old, and talks like a fool, principally about a certain admirer, a "blonde demi-god"--her words--named Percy.

  Something must be done: things must be talked over. Come down and make love to Miss Arthur. _Her_ money is not entailed.

  Bring me some Periques and a box of Alexis gloves--you know the number. Yours in disgust,

  CORA MME. ARTHUR.

  Madeline dropped the letter, and stood amazed. What did it mean? "Cora_Mme._ Arthur!"

  Henry stooped for the letter, and the act recalled her to herself. Shethanked him for the service he had done her; told him of her intendeddeparture; gave him some last instructions, and dismissed him with akind good-by.

  "I took the letter before I locked the desk."--page127.]

  "It is time to act," she muttered. "Good heavens! the audacity of thatman and woman! She is married to my step-father, if that letter doesnot lie; has married him for money, and is baffled there. She hoped tobecome _his widow_, aha! The plot thickens, indeed! Goodness! what ahousehold! That bad old man, the still viler woman, dangerous LucianDavlin, and that funny, youthful, cross, 'conceited spinster,' EllenArthur, who has a lover, and his name is--heaven save us--Percy! Thatname _will_ mix itself up with my fate web, and why? Percy beloved ofClaire; Percy who brought Philip Girard to his doom; Percy the loverof a rich old maid, are ye one and the same? Percy! Percy! Percy! Imust cultivate the Percys at any cost."

  She turned and entered the house, her head bent, thinking, thinking,thinking.

 

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