CHAPTER LV.
ARTHUR WARDLAW was thunderstruck; and for some time sat stupidly staringat her. And to this blank gaze succeeded a look of abject terror, whichseemed to her strange and beyond the occasion. But this was not all; for,after glaring at her with scared eyes and ashy cheeks a moment or two, hegot up and literally staggered out of the room without a word.
He had been taken by surprise, and, for once, all his arts had failedhim.
Helen, whose eyes had never left his face, and had followed his retiringfigure, was frightened at the weight of the blow she had struck; andstrange thoughts and conjectures filled her mind. Hitherto, she had feltsure Robert Penfold was under a delusion as to Arthur Wardlaw, and thathis suspicions were as unjust as they certainly were vague. Yet now, atthe name of Robert Penfold, Arthur turned pale, and fled like a guiltything. This was a coincidence that confirmed her good opinion of RobertPenfold, and gave her ugly thoughts of Arthur. Still, she was one veryslow to condemn a friend, and too generous and candid to condemn onsuspicion; so she resolved as far as possible to suspend her unfavorablejudgment of Arthur, until she should have asked him why this greatemotion, and heard his reply.
Moreover, she was no female detective, but a pure creature bent onclearing innocence. The object of her life was, not to discover thefaults of Arthur Wardlaw, or any other person, but to clear RobertPenfold of a crime. Yet Arthur's strange behavior was a great shock toher; for here, at the very outset, he had somehow made her feel she musthope for no assistance from him. She sighed at this check, and askedherself to whom she should apply first for aid. Robert had told her tosee his counsel, his solicitor, his father, and Mr. Undercliff, anexpert, and to sift the whole matter.
Not knowing exactly where to begin, she thought she would, after all,wait a day or two to give Arthur time to recover himself, and decidecalmly whether he would co-operate with her or not.
In this trying interval, she set up a diary--for the first time in herlife; for she was no egotist. And she noted down what we have justrelated, only in a very condensed form, and wrote at the margin:_Mysterious._
Arthur never came near her for two whole days. This looked grave. On thethird day she said to General Rolleston:
"Papa, _you_ will help me in the good cause--will you not?"
He replied that he would do what he could, but feared that would belittle.
"Will you take me down to Elmtrees, this morning?"
"With all my heart."
He took her down to Elmtrees. On the way she said: "Papa, you must let meget a word with Mr. Wardlaw alone."
"Oh, certainly. But, of course, you will not say a word to hurt hisfeelings."
"Oh, papa!"
"Excuse me. But, when a person of your age is absorbed with one idea, shesometimes forgets that other people have any feelings at all."
Helen kissed him meekly, and said that was too true; and she would beupon her guard.
To General Rolleston's surprise, his daughter no sooner saw old Wardlawthan she went--or seemed to go--into high spirits, and was infinitelyagreeable.
But at last she got him all to herself, and then she turned suddenlygrave, and said:
"Mr. Wardlaw, I want to ask you a question. It is something about RobertPenfold."
Wardlaw shook his head. "That is a painful subject, my dear. But what doyou wish to know about that unhappy young man?"
"Can you tell me the name of the counsel who defended him at the trial?"
"No, indeed, I cannot."
"But perhaps you can tell me where I could learn that."
"His father is in our office still; no doubt he could tell you."
Now, for obvious reasons, Helen did not like to go to the office; so sheasked faintly if there was nobody else who could tell her.
"I suppose the solicitor could."
"But I don't know who was the solicitor," said Helen, with a sigh.
"Hum!" said the merchant. "Try the bill-broker. I'll give you hisaddress;" and he wrote it down for her.
Helen did not like to be too importunate, and she could not bear to letWardlaw senior know she loved anybody better than his son; and yet someexplanation was necessary. So she told him, as calmly as she could, thather father and herself were both well acquainted with Robert Penfold, andknew many things to his credit.
"I am glad to hear that," said Wardlaw; "and I can believe it. He bore anexcellent character here, till, in an evil hour, a strong temptationcame, and he fell."
"What! You think he was guilty?"
"I do. Arthur, I believe, has his doubts still. But he is naturallyprejudiced in his friend's favor. And, besides, he was not at the trial;I was."
"Thank you, Mr. Wardlaw," said Helen, coldly; and within five minutes shewas on her way home.
"Arthur prejudiced in Robert Penfold's favor!" That puzzled herextremely.
She put down the whole conversation while her memory was fresh. She addedthis comment: "What darkness I am groping in!"
Next day she went to the bill-broker, and told him Mr. Wardlaw senior hadreferred her to him for certain information.
Wardlaw's name was evidently a passport. Mr. Adams said obsequiously,"Anything in the world I can do, madam."
"It is about Mr. Robert Penfold. I wish to know the name of the counselhe had at his trial."
"Robert Penfold! What, the forger?"
"He was accused of that crime," said Helen, turning red.
"Accused, madam! He was convicted. I ought to know; for it was my partnerhe tried the game on. But I was too sharp for him. I had him arrestedbefore he had time to melt the notes; indicted him, and sent him acrossthe herring pond, in spite of his parson's coat, the rascal!"
Helen drew back as if a serpent had stung her.
"It was you who had him transported!" cried she, turning her eyes on himwith horror.
"Of course it was me," said Mr. Adams, firing up; "and I did the countrygood service. I look upon a forger as worse than a murderer. What is thematter? You are ill."
The poor girl was half fainting at the sight of the man who had destroyedher Robert, and owned it.
"No, no," she cried, hastily; "let me get away--let me get away fromhere-you cruel, cruel man!"
She tottered to the door, and got to her carriage, she scarcely knew how,without the information she went for.
The bill-broker was no fool; he saw now how the land lay; he followed herdown the stairs, and tried to stammer excuses.
"Charing Cross Hotel," said she faintly, and laid her face against thecushion to avoid the sight of him.
When she got home, she cried bitterly at her feminine weakness and herincapacity; and she entered this pitiable failure in her journal with aseverity our male readers will hardly, we think, be disposed to imitate;and she added, by way of comment: "Is this how I carry out my poorRobert's precept: Be obstinate as a man; be supple as a woman?"
That night she consulted her father on this difficulty, so slight to anybut an inexperienced girl. He told her there must be a report of thetrial in the newspapers, and the report would probably mention thecounsel; she had better consult a file.
Then the thing was where to find a file. After one or two failures, theBritish Museum was suggested. She went thither, and could not get in toread without certain formalities. While these were being complied with,she was at a stand-still.
That same evening came a line from Arthur Wardlaw:
"DEAREST HELEN--I hear from Mr. Adams that you desire to know the nameof the counsel who defended Robert Penfold. It was Mr. Tollemache. He haschambers in Lincoln's Inn.
"Ever devotedly yours,
"ARTHUR WARDLAW."
Helen was touched with this letter, and put it away indorsed with a fewwords of gratitude and esteem; and copied it into her diary, andremarked: "This is one more warning not to judge hastily. Arthur'sagitation was probably only great emotion at the sudden mention of onewhose innocence he believes, and whose sad fate distresses him." Shewrote back and thanked him sweetly, and in ter
ms that encouraged a visit.Next day she went to Mr. Tollemache. A seedy man followed her at adistance. Mr. Tollemache was not at his chambers, nor expected till fouro'clock. He was in court. She left her card, and wrote on it in pencilthat she would call at four.
She went at ten minutes after four. Mr. Tollemache declined, through hisclerk, to see her if she was a client; he could only be approached by hersolicitor. She felt inclined to go away and cry; but this time sheremembered she was to be obstinate as a man and supple as a woman. Shewrote on a card: "I am not a client of Mr. Tollemache, but a lady deeplyinterested in obtaining some information, which Mr. Tollemache can withperfect propriety give me. I trust to his courtesy as a gentleman not torefuse me a short interview."
"Admit the lady," said a sharp little voice.
She was ushered in, and found Mr. Tollemache standing before the fire.
"Now, madam, what can I do for you?"
"Some years ago you defended Mr. Robert Penfold; he was accused offorgery."
"Oh, was he? I think I remember something about it. A banker'sclerk--wasn't he?"
"Oh, no, sir. A clergyman."
"A clergyman? I remember it perfectly. He was convicted."
"Do you think he was guilty, sir?"
"There was a strong case against him."
"I wish to sift that case."
"Indeed. And you want to go through the papers."
"What papers, sir?"
"The brief for the defense."
"Yes," said Helen, boldly, "would you trust me with that, sir? Oh, if youknew how deeply I am interested!" The tears were in her lovely eyes.
"The brief has gone back to the solicitor, of course. I dare say he willlet you read it upon a proper representation."
"Thank you, sir. Will you tell me who is the solicitor, and where helives?"
"Oh, I can't remember who was the solicitor. That is the very first thingyou ought to have ascertained. It was no use coming to me."
"Forgive me for troubling you, sir," said Helen, with a deep sigh.
"Not at all, madam; I am only sorry I cannot be of more service. But dolet me advise you to employ your solicitor to make these preliminaryinquiries. Happy to consult with him, and re-open the matter should hediscover any fresh evidence." He bowed her out, and sat down to a briefwhile she was yet in sight.
She turned away heart-sick. The advice she had received was good; but sheshrank from baring her heart to her father's solicitor.
She sat disconsolate awhile, then ordered another cab, and drove toWardlaw's office. It was late, and Arthur was gone home; so, indeed, waseverybody, except one young subordinate, who was putting up the shutters."Sir," said she, "can you tell me where old Mr. Penfold lives?"
"Somewhere in the subbubs, miss."
"Yes, sir; but where?"
"I think it is out Pimlico way."
"Could you not give me the street? I would beg you to accept a present ifyou could."
This sharpened the young gentleman's wits; he went in and groped here andthere till he found the address, and gave it her: No. 3, FairfieldCottages, Primrose Lane, Pimlico. She gave him a sovereign, to hisinfinite surprise and delight, and told the cabman to drive to the hotel.
The next moment the man who had followed her was chatting familiarly withthe subordinate, and helping him to put up the shutters.
"I say, Dick," said the youngster, "Penfolds is up in the market; aduchess was here just now, and gave me a soy, to tell her where he lived.Wait a moment till I spit on it for luck."
The agent, however, did not wait to witness that interesting ceremony. Hewent back to his hansom round the corner, and drove at once to ArthurWardlaw's house with the information.
Helen noted down Michael Penfold's address in her diary, and would havegone to him that evening, but she was to dine _tete-a-tete_ with herfather.
Next day she went down to 3 Fairfield Cottages at half past four. On theway her heart palpitated, for this was a very important interview. Hereat least she might hope to find some clew, by following out which shewould sooner or later establish Robert's innocence. But then came afearful thought: "Why had not his father done this already, if it waspossible to do it? His father must love him. His father must have heardhis own story, and tested it in every way. Yet his father remained theservant of a firm, the senior partner of which had told her to her faceRobert was guilty."
It was a strange and terrible enigma. Yet she clung to the belief thatsome new light would come to her from Michael Penfold. Then came bashfulfears. "How should she account to Mr. Penfold for the interest she tookin his own son, she who was affianced to Mr. Penfold's employer." Shearrived at 3 Fairfield Cottages with her cheeks burning, and repeating toherself: "Now is the time to be supple as a woman but obstinate as aman."
She sent the cabman in to inquire for Mr. Penfold; a sharp girl of aboutthirteen came out to her, and told her Mr. Penfold was not at home.
"Can you tell me when he will be at home?"
"No, miss. He have gone to Scotland. A telegraphum came from Wardlaws'last night, as he was to go to Scotland first thing this morning; and hewent at six o'clock."
"Oh, dear! How unfortunate!"
"Who shall I say called, miss?"
"Thank you, I will write. What time did the telegram come?"
"Between five and six last evening, miss."
She returned to the hotel. Fate seemed to be against her. Baffled at thevery threshold! At the hotel she found Arthur Wardlaw's card and abeautiful bouquet.
She sat down directly, and wrote to him affectionately, and asked him inthe postscript if he could send her a report of the trial. She received areply directly, that he had inquired in the office, for one of the clerkshad reports of it; but this clerk was unfortunately out, and had lockedup his desk.
Helen sighed. Her feet seemed to be clogged at every step in thisinquiry.
Next morning, however, a large envelope came for her, and a Mr. Handwrote to her thus:
"MADAM--Having been requested by Mr. Arthur Wardlaw to send you myextracts of a trial, the Queen _v._ Penfold, I herewith forward the same,and would feel obliged by your returning them at your convenience.
"Your obedient servant,
"JAMES HAND."
Helen took the inclosed extracts to her bedroom, and there read them bothover many times.
In both these reports the case for the Crown was neat, clear, cogent,straight-forward, and supported by evidence. The defense was chieflyargument of counsel to prove the improbability of a clergyman and a manof good character passing a forged note. One of the reports stated thatMr. Arthur Wardlaw, a son of the principal witness, had taken theaccusation so much to heart that he was now dangerously ill at Oxford.The other report did not contain this, but, on the other hand, it statedthat the prisoner, after conviction, had endeavored to lay the blame onMr. Arthur Wardlaw, but that the judge had stopped him, and said he couldonly aggravate his offense by endeavoring to cast a slur upon theWardlaws, who had both shown a manifest desire to shield him, but werepowerless for want of evidence.
In both reports the summing up of the judge was moderate in expression,but leaned against the prisoner on every point, and corrected thesophistical reasoning of his counsel very sensibly. Both reports said anexpert was called for the prisoner, whose ingenuity made the court smile,but did not counterbalance the evidence. Helen sat cold as ice with theextracts in her hand.
Not that her sublime faith was shaken, but that poor Robert appeared tohave been so calmly and fairly dealt with by everybody. Even Mr.Hennessy, the counsel for the Crown, had opened the case with humaneregret, and confined himself to facts, and said nobody would be morepleased than he would, if this evidence could be contradicted, orexplained in a manner consistent with the prisoner's innocence.
What a stone she had undertaken to roll--up what a hill!
What was to be her next step? Go to the Museum, which was now open toher, and read more reports? She shrank from that.
"The newspapers are all
against him," said she; "and I don't want to betold he is guilty, when I know he is innocent."
She now re-examined the extracts with a view to names, and found the onlynames mentioned were those of the counsel. The expert's name was notgiven in either. However, she knew that from Robert. She resolved tospeak to Mr. Hennessy first, and try and get at the defendant's solicitorthrough him.
She found him out by the Law Directory, and called at a few minutes pastfour.
Hennessy was almost the opposite to Tollemache. He was about the size ofa gentleman's wardrobe; and, like most enormous men, good-natured. Hereceived her, saw with his practiced eye that she was no common person,and, after a slight hesitation on professional grounds, heard herrequest. He sent for his note-book, found the case in one moment,remastered it in another, and told her the solicitor for the Crown inthat case was Freshfleld.
"Now," said he, "you want to know who was the defendant's solicitor?Jenkins, a stamped envelope. Write your name and address on that."
While she was doing it, he scratched a line to Mr. Freshfield, asking himto send the required information to the inclosed address.
She thanked Mr. Hennessy with the tears in her eyes.
"I dare not ask you whether you think him guilty," she said.
Hennessy shook his head with an air of good-natured rebuke.
"You must not cross-examine counsel," said he. "But, if it will be anycomfort to you, I'll say this much, there was just a shadow of doubt, andTollemache certainly let a chance slip. If I had defended your friend, Iwould have insisted on a postponement of the trial until this ArthurWardlaw" (looking at his note-book) "could be examined, either in courtor otherwise, if he was really dying. Is he dead, do you know?"
"No."
"I thought not. Sick witnesses are often at death's door; but I neverknew one pass the threshold. Ha! ha! The trial ought to have beenpostponed till he got well. If a judge refused me a postponement in sucha case, I would make him so odious to the jury that the prisoner wouldget a verdict in spite of his teeth."
"Then you think he was badly defended?"
"No; that is saying a great deal more than I could justify. But there arecounsel who trust too much to their powers of reasoning, and underrate achink in the evidence pro or con. Practice, and a few back-falls, curethem of that."
Mr. Hennessy uttered this general observation with a certain change oftone, which showed he thought he had said as much or more than hisvisitor had any right to expect from him; and she therefore left him,repeating her thanks. She went home, pondering on every word he had said,and entered it all in her journal, with the remark: "How strange! thefirst doubt of Robert's guilt comes to me from the lawyer who caused himto be found guilty. He calls it the shadow of a doubt."
That very evening, Mr. Freshfield had the courtesy to send her bymessenger the name and address of the solicitor who had defended RobertPenfold, Lovejoy & James, Lincoln's Inn Fields. She called on them, andsent in her card. She was kept waiting a long time in the outer office,and felt ashamed, and sick at heart, seated among young clerks. At lastshe was admitted, and told Mr. Lovejoy she and her father, GeneralRolleston, were much interested in a late client of his, Mr. RobertPenfold; and would he be kind enough to let her see the brief for thedefense?
"Are you a relation of the Penfolds, madam?"
"No, sir," said Helen blushing.
"Humph!" said Lovejoy. He touched a hand-bell. A clerk appeared.
"Ask Mr. Upton to come to me." Mr. Upton, the managing clerk, came in duecourse, and Mr. Lovejoy asked him:
"Who instructed us in the Queen _v._ Penfold?"
"It was Mr. Michael Penfold, sir." Mr. Lovejoy then told Helen that shemust just get a line from Mr. Michael Penfold, and then the papers shouldbe submitted to her.
"Yes; but, sir," said Helen, "Mr. Penfold is in Scotland."
"Well, but you can write to him."
"No; I don't know in what part of Scotland he is."
"Then you are not very intimate with him."
"No, sir; my acquaintance is with Mr. Robert Penfold."
"Have you a line from _him?"_
"I have no _written_ authority from him; but will you not take my wordthat I act by his desire?"
"My dear madam," said the lawyer, "we go by rule. There are certain formsto be observed in these things. I am sure your own good sense will tellyou it would be cruel and improper of me to submit those papers withoutan order from Robert or Michael Penfold. Pray consider this as a delay,not a refusal."
"Yes, sir," said Helen; "but I meet with nothing but delays, and my heartis breaking under them."
The solicitor looked sorry, but would not act irregularly. She went homesighing, and condemned to wait the return of Michael Penfold.
The cab door was opened for her by a seedy man she fancied she had seenbefore.
Baffled thus, and crippled in every movement she made, however slight, infavor of Robert Penfold, she was seduced on the other hand into all theinnocent pleasures of the town. Her adventure had transpired somehow orother, and all General Rolleston's acquaintances hunted him up; and bothfather and daughter were courted by people of ton as lions. A shipwreckedbeauty is not offered to society every day. Even her own sex raved abouther, and about the chain of beautiful pearls she had picked up somehow onher desolate island. She always wore them; they linked her to that sacredpurpose she seemed to be forgetting. Her father drew her with him intothe vortex, hiding from her that he embarked in it principally for hersake, and she went down the current with him out of filial duty. Thusunfathomable difficulties thrust her back from her up-hill task. And theworld, with soft but powerful hand, drew her away to it. Arthur broughther a choice bouquet, or sent her a choice bouquet, every evening, butotherwise did not intrude much upon her; and though she was sure he wouldassist her, if she asked him, gratitude and delicacy forbade her to callhim again to her assistance. She preferred to await the return of MichaelPenfold. She had written to him at the office to tell him she had news ofhis son, and begged him to give her instant notice of his return fromScotland.
Day after day passed, and he did not write to her. She began to chafe,and then to pine. Her father saw, and came to a conclusion that hermarriage with Arthur ought to be hastened. He resolved to act quietly butfirmly toward that end.
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