The Third Volume

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER XIII.

  ON THE TRACK.

  IT was nearly six o'clock when Claude returned to Earls Street, andTait, already dressed for the evening, was waiting his arrival withconsiderable impatience. His usual imperturbability had given place to aself-satisfied air, as though he had succeeded in accomplishing adifficult undertaking. He uttered a joyful exclamation when he sawClaude enter, but a look of apprehension passed over his face when henoted the altered appearance of his friend.

  "What is wrong?" he asked, as Claude threw himself into a chair, with asigh of fatigue. "Do you bring bad news? My dear fellow, you arecompletely worn out. Here, Dormer, a glass of sherry for Mr. Larcher."

  The servant, who was putting the finishing touches to the dinner-table,speedily obeyed this order, and Tait made his friend drink the winewithout delay. Then he proceeded to question him regarding the reason ofhis pallor, but with his usual caution first sent Dormer out of theroom. Only when they were alone did he venture to speak on the subjectabout which both were thinking.

  "Well!" he demanded anxiously, "you saw Mrs. Bezel?"

  "Yes; I was with her for two hours."

  "Ah!" said Tait, with great satisfaction; "she must have told you a gooddeal in that time."

  "She did. She told me more than I expected."

  "Did it concern your parents?"

  "It did."

  "Good! Then you no doubt heard her version of the crime."

  "Yes!"

  These unsatisfactory replies, which dropped so strangely from Larcher'slips, at once puzzled and irritated the questioner.

  "You don't seem anxious to confide in me," he said, in a piqued tone.

  "I will tell you all. I am anxious to tell you all," replied Larcher,finding his tongue, "but I do not know how to begin."

  "Oh, I shall save you that trouble by asking you questions. In the firstplace, who is Mrs. Bezel?"

  "My mother!"

  Tait bounded from his chair with an expression of incredulity. Thisunexpected information, so abruptly conveyed, was too much for hisself-control.

  "Your mother!" he stammered, hardly thinking he had heard aright. "Areyou in earnest? I cannot believe it. According to the notice in thenewspapers, according to Hilliston, your mother died in London in 1867."

  "She did not die. Her death was a feigned one, to escape the notorietygained by her trial at Canterbury."

  "Did Mr. Hilliston know she was alive?"

  "Yes. It was by his advice that she changed her name."

  "Oh! Oh!" said Tait, with marked significance; "Hilliston knew,Hilliston advised. Humph! John Parver may be right, after all."

  "Tait, be silent! You are speaking of my mother."

  "I beg your pardon, my dear fellow, but I really do not understand."

  "You will shortly. I will tell you the story of my mother's troubles,and Hilliston's kindness."

  "Hilliston's kindness," repeated Tait, in a skeptical tone. Neverthelesshe resumed his seat, and signified his willingness to hear thenarrative.

  The wine had done Claude good, and restored his self-possession; so, nowmaster of himself, he related all that had passed between himself andMrs. Bezel. Gifted with a retentive memory, and no mean powers as anarrator, he succeeded in giving Tait a vivid impression of theconversation. The little man, with his head slightly on one side, like abright-eyed sparrow, listened attentively, and not till the story wasfinished did he make an observation thereon. To this capability oflistening without interruption Tait owed a great deal of his popularity.

  "Truth is stranger than fiction, after all," said he, when Claude ended;"and the novel is less dramatic than the episode of real life. JohnParver did not dare to insinuate that the supposed dead widow of themurdered man was alive. Humph! this complicates matters more than ever."

  "At least it clears the character of Hilliston."

  "Yes," assented Tait doubtfully; "I suppose it does."

  "Can you doubt it?" said Larcher, dissatisfied with this grudgingconsent. "You can now see why Hilliston was agitated at our interview;why he asked me not to see Mrs. Bezel, so-called; why he called here thesame evening to find out if I had gone; and finally why he wished toprepare me before seeing her, by telling of the tragedy."

  "Oh, I see all that," said Tait quietly. "Nine men out of ten wouldconsider Hilliston a most disinterested person. But I am the tenth man,and am therefore skeptical of his motive."

  "But what motive can he have for----"

  "That is just it," interrupted Tait vivaciously. "I can't see hismotive, but I will find it out some day."

  "Well, you can speak for yourself," said Claude, frowning. "After whatmy mother has told me, I believe Hilliston to be an upright andhonorable man."

  "You are quite right to do so on the evidence. Still, if I were you Iwould not keep him informed of all our movements, unless----Do youintend to go on with the matter?" he asked abruptly.

  "Assuredly! I am determined to find out who killed my father."

  Tait walked to the fireplace and took up his position on the hearth-rug.An idea had entered his mind, which he did not intend to put into words.Nevertheless it was indirectly the reason for his next speech.

  "I think, after all, it would be best to take Hilliston's advice, andlet sleeping dogs lie."

  He had not calculated the effect of these words on his hearer, forClaude also arose from his chair, and looked at him with angry surprise.

  "I don't understand you," he said coldly. "Some hours back, and you weremore eager than I to pursue this unknown criminal. Now you wish towithdraw. May I ask the reason of this sudden change."

  "It seems to be useless to hope to find the assassin," replied Tait,shrugging his shoulders. "One cannot discover a needle in a haystack."

  "Oh, yes you can--by patient research."

  "Well, even that would be easier than to hope to solve a mystery whichhas been impenetrable for five-and-twenty years."

  "It has been impenetrable for that time because no one has tried tosolve it. This is not your real reason for wishing to end the case. Whatis your reason? Speak! I insist upon knowing the truth."

  The other did not reply, but thrust his hands deeper into his pockets,and maintained a masterly silence. Irritated by this negative attitude,Claude placed his hands on the little man's shoulders and looked at himindignantly.

  "I know what your reason is, Tait," he said rapidly; "it is not that youfear we may learn too little, but that you expect we will learn toomuch."

  "Yes," replied Tait simply, "that is the reason. Is it not anall-sufficient one for you to pause?"

  "No!" shouted Claude savagely; "it is all-sufficient for me to go on.You think that I may discover that Hilliston is the criminal, or learnthat my mother is accountable for the crime. I tell you no such thingwill happen. Hilliston was not near The Laurels on the fatal morning. Mymother--I have told you how she exonerated herself, and the exonerationwas substantiated by Denis Bantry. Both are innocent."

  "It may be so. But who is guilty?"

  "Jeringham. I believe that he discovered that my father had returned,and perhaps knowing of this intrigue between him and Mona Bantry,remained at The Laurels, unknown to my mother, in order to assist her asa friend."

  "How did Jeringham obtain possession of the dagger?"

  "I cannot say. We must find out. But he did obtain possession of thedagger, and during a quarrel with my father killed him with it. He fledto avoid the consequences. Oh, yes! I swear that Jeringham is guilty.But I will hunt him down, if I have to do it alone."

  "You will not do it alone," said Tait quietly. "I am with you still."

  "But you said----"

  "I know what I said! I think it is best to leave well alone. But sinceyou are set on learning the truth, I will help you to the best of myability. Only," added Tait explicitly, "should you discover the truth tobe unpalatable, do not blame me."

  "I won't blame you. I am certain that you will find that
I am right, andthat Hilliston and my mother had nothing to do with the affair. Help me,that is all I ask. I will bear the consequences."

  "Very good! Then we had better get to work," said Tait dryly. "Just goand dress, my dear fellow, or you'll keep dinner waiting."

  "Why should I dress? I am not going out to-night."

  "Indeed you are! We are due at Mrs. Durham's 'At Home' at ten o'clock."

  "I shan't go. I am in no mood for frivolity. I would rather stay at homeand think over the case. It is only by hard work that we can hope tolearn the truth."

  "Very true. At the same time it is necessary for you to go out to-night,if only to meet with John Parver."

  "The author of 'A Whim of Fate,'" asked Claude eagerly, "is he in town?"

  "Yes. And he will be at Mrs. Durham's to-night. We must see him, andfind out where he obtained the materials for his novel."

  "Do you think such information will lead to any result?" asked Claudedubiously.

  "I don't think. I am sure of it," retorted Tait impatiently. "Now go anddress."

  Larcher departed without a word.