by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER VI
Captain Hampton had spoken harshly of Lord Halliburn, but then he wasscarcely able to appreciate the difficulties of the young nobleman. LordHalliburn was in many respects a model peer. His talents were more thanrespectable, his life was irreproachable, he was wealthy and yet not aspendthrift. The title was of recent creation, his father being thefirst holder of the earldom, having been raised to that rank for hispolitical services to the Whig party, just as his grandfather, a wealthymanufacturer, had been rewarded for the bestowal of a park, a publiclibrary, and other benefactions to his native town, by a baronetcy. Andyet Lord Halliburn supported his position as worthily as if the earldomhad come down in an unbroken line from the days of the Henrys, and washeld up as an example to less tranquil and studious spirits.
He had scarcely been popular at Eton, for he avoided both the river andthe playing fields, and was one of a set who kept aloof from the rest,talked together upon politics, philosophy, and poetry, held mildlydemocratic opinions as to the improvement of the existing state ofthings, were particular about their dress, and subdued in their talk.That they were looked upon with something like contempt by those whoregarded a place in the eight or the eleven as conferring the proudestdistinction that could be aimed at, they regarded not only withcomplacency, but almost with pride, and privately considered themselvesto belong to a far higher order than these rough athletes. At college,his mode of life was but little altered. He belonged to a small coteriewho lived apart from the rest, held academic discussions in each others'rooms upon many abstruse subjects, were familiar with Kant, regarded theGerman thinkers with respectful admiration, quoted John Stuart Mill andSpencer as the masters of English thought, were mildly enthusiastic overCarlyle and Ruskin, and had leanings towards Comte and Swedenborg.
It was only at the Union that Lord Everington, as he then was, came incontact with those outside his own set, and here he quite held his own,for he was a neat and polished speaker, never diverging into flights offancy, but precise as to his facts and close in his reasoning. Hisspeeches were always listened to with attention, and though far frombeing one of the most popular, he was regarded as being one of thecleverest and most promising debaters at the Union. Just as he wasleaving college a terrible blow fell upon him, for at the sudden deathof his father, he succeeded to the title. To some men the loss would nothave been without its consolations. To him it meant the destruction ofthe scheme on which he had laid out his life. He had intended to enterParliament as soon as possible, and had sufficient confidence in himselfto feel sure that he should succeed in political life, and would eremany years become an Under-Secretary, and in due course of time a memberof the Cabinet.
Now all this prospect seemed shattered. In the Peers he would have butslight opportunity of distinguishing himself, and would simply be theEarl of Halliburn, and nothing more. It was, however, to his credit thateven in the dull atmosphere of the Gilded Chamber he had, to someextent, made his mark. He studied diligently every question that cameup, and, while clever enough not to bore the House by long speeches, hecame, ere long, to be considered a very well-informed and useful youngmember of it, and had now the honour of being Under-Secretary for theColonies. It was a recognition of his work that he enjoyed keenly,although he felt bitterly how few were his opportunities in comparisonto what they would have been had his chief been in the Peers and he inthe Commons.
As it was, his fellow peers evinced no curiosity whatever in regard tocolonial matters, and it was of rare occurrence that any question wasasked upon the affairs of which he had charge. Nevertheless, it was agreat step. It brought him within the official circle, and more thanonce the mastery of the subject shown in his answers had won for him afew words of warm commendation from the Leader of the House.
Then came, as he now thought it, the unfortunate idea of marriage. Itwould add to his weight, he had considered. As a bachelor his house inPark Lane, his place in the country, and his wealth, were but of slightadvantage to him, but, as his chief one day hinted to him, he would beable to be of far more use to his party were he in a position toentertain largely.
'We are rather behindhand in that respect, Halliburn. Four-fifths of thegood houses are Tory. These things count for a good deal. You may saythat it is absurd that it should be so, but that does not alter the factthat it gratifies the wives and daughters of the country members to havesuch houses open to them. You have plenty of money, and you don't throwit away, so that you can afford to do things well. If I were you, Ishould certainly look out for a wife.
'She need not be a politician. She need not even belong to one of ourfamilies. Whatever her people's politics she will naturally, as yourwife, come in time to take your views; and besides, there is no harm,rather the reverse, in keeping up a connection with that side. You mustsee as well as I do that the time is fast coming when there will be aconsiderable change in politics. Even now we are far nearer, upon allimportant points, to the Tories than we are to these Radical fellows whoat present vote with us, but who in time will want to control us. TheTories have come much nearer to us, and we to them. Already we arescarcely in a majority on our own side of the house, and it will not bemany years before we shall have to concede the demand to give a largeshare of ministerial appointments to Radicals. We shall then perceivethat we must choose between becoming the followers of men whose ways andpolitics we hate, or the allies of men of our own stamp, whose way oflooking at things differs but very little from our own. Therefore, Ishould say it would be just as well for you to choose a wife from theirranks as from your own.'
Lord Halliburn had, as was his custom, thought the matter over coollyand carefully, and had come to the conclusion that it would be well forhim to marry. He was by no means blind to the fact that there would beno great difficulty in his doing so. He was not unobservant of thefrequency of invitations to houses where there were daughters ofmarriageable age, and had often smiled quietly at the innocentmanoeuvres upon the part both of mothers and daughters. He had,however, never seriously given the matter a thought, being rather ofopinion that a wife would interfere with his work, would compel him totake a more prominent part in society, and would expect him to devote aconsiderable proportion of his time to her. Now that the matter wasplaced before him in another light, he saw that there was a good deal tobe said on the other side. The fact that the suggestion came from hischief was not without weight, and he decided accordingly to marry.
He proceeded about the matter in the same methodical manner in which hecarried out the other work of his life, and was not very long indeciding in favour of Miss Hawtrey. She was one of the belles of theseason, and, as was no secret, had refused two or three excellentoffers. There would, therefore, be a certain _eclat_ in carrying heroff. She belonged to an old county family. Her father, although aConservative, had taken no prominent part in politics, and his daughterwould no doubt soon prove amenable to his own opinions and wishes. Aboveall, she would make a charming hostess. Having once made up his mind, heset to work seriously, and soon became interested in it to a degree thatsurprised him.
To his rank and his position in the Ministry he speedily found that shewas absolutely indifferent, and was as ready to dance and laugh with animpecunious younger son as with himself. This indifference stimulatedhis efforts, and as a man, as well as a peer and politician, he wasgratified when he received an affirmative reply to his proposal. Hischief himself congratulated him upon his engagement, and he knew that hewas an object of envy to many, for in addition to being a belle, MissHawtrey was also an heiress, and for a short time he was highlygratified at the course of events. It was thus he felt cruelly hardwhen, within a fortnight of his engagement, this unpleasant affair tookplace.
It seemed intolerable to him that the lady whom he had chosen should bethe subject of these libellous attacks. He did not for an instant doubtthat she was, as she said, wholly ignorant of the author of theseletters, and that there was nothing whatever on which these demands formoney could be based. Still, the business was no
ne the less annoying,and in his irritation he had taken the step that had unfortunatelyresulted in the matter becoming public. He was angry with himself;angry, although he could have given no reason for the feeling, withDorothy; very angry with society in general, for entertaining theslightest suspicion of the lady whom he had selected to be his wife.That such suspicion should, even in the vaguest manner, exist, was initself wholly at variance with his object in entering upon matrimony.The wife of the Earl of Halliburn should not be spoken of except interms of admiration; that the finger of suspicion should be pointed ather was intolerable.
His house might even be shunned, instead of the entry there being soexclusive as to be eagerly sought for. Of course, it was not her fault,and it should make no difference as to his course. Still, the affairwas, he freely owned, annoying in the extreme. He had had but fewtroubles, and bore this badly. The belief that the clerks in his officewere talking of his affairs kept him in a state of constant irritation,and he fancied that even the impassive door-keeper smiled furtively ashe passed him on his way in and out. Being in the habit of attaching agood deal of importance to his personality he believed that anythingthat affected him was a matter of much interest to the world at large,and that it occupied the thoughts of other people almost as much as itdid his own. For the first time he felt that there were some advantagesin a seat in the Upper House. In that grave, and for the most partscanty, gathering of men, generally much older than himself, he couldfeel that his troubles elicited but little more than a passing remark,and, indeed, the only sign of their knowledge of them that even hisirritated self-love could detect was a slightly added warmth andkindness on the part of two or three of his leaders.
With the younger men it was different. 'I never thought much of thatfellow Halliburn,' said Frank Delancey, who had been in his form atEton, and was now, like himself, an under secretary, but in the Commons.'I never believe in fellows who moon their time away instead of going infor the water or fields, and Halliburn is showing now that he is not ofgood stuff. He has not got the cotton out of his veins yet. Of course,it is not pleasant for a girl you are engaged to, to be talked about;but a man with any pluck and honour would not show it as he does.Instead of going about looking bright and pleasant, as if such a paltryaccusation was too contemptible to give him a moment's thought, he giveshimself the airs of Hamlet when he begins to suspect his uncle, andwalks about looking as irritable as a bear with a sore head. He hasn'teven the decency to behave like a gentleman when he is with her, I hear.Young Vaux, of the Foreign Office, told me yesterday that he met themboth at dinner the day before, and the fellow looked downright cross,instead of being, as he ought to have been, more courteous and devotedthan usual. I fancy that you will hear that it is broken off beforelong. I don't think Dorothy Hawtrey is the sort of girl to stand anynonsense.'
'No, I quite agree with you, Delancey,' his companion--Fitzhurst, memberfor an Irish constituency--said. 'Still, I should say it would lastuntil this blows over. As long as the engagement goes on it is in itselfa sort of proof that everything is all right, and that these reports arebut a parcel of lies. The girl would feel that if she broke it off freshstories would get about, and that half the people would say that it washis doing and that the stories were true, after all.'
'I will bet you a fiver that it does not come off, Tom.'
'No, I would not take that, but I would not mind betting evens that itlasts three months.'
'Well, I will go five pounds even with you, and I will take five to one,if you like, that it does not last another month.'
'No, I will take the even bet, but not the other. There is no sayingwhat developments may turn up.'
But Dorothy had even before this offered to release Lord Halliburn fromthe engagement; he had refused the offer with vehemence, declaringhimself absolutely unaffected by the story, and, indeed, taking aninjured tone and accusing her of doubting his love for her.
'I am not doubting your love, Algernon,' she replied, 'but it isimpossible for me to avoid seeing that the matter is a great annoyanceto you, and that it is troubling you very much. You have several timesspoken quite crossly to me, and I am not in the habit of being spokencrossly to. My father is naturally quite as annoyed as you are, but ashe believes, as you do, that the accusations are entirely false, he isnot in any way vexed with me.'
'Nor am I, Dorothy; not in the slightest degree, though I own that theknowledge that people are talking about us does irritate me; butcertainly I did not mean to speak crossly to you, and am very sorry if Idid so.'
And so the matter had dropped, but Dorothy had none the less felt thatat a time when Halliburn ought to have been kinder than usual, and tohave helped her to show a brave front in the face of these rumours, hehad added to instead of lightening her troubles.
One morning at breakfast Dorothy gave an exclamation of surprise uponopening one of her letters.
'What is it, my dear?'
'I don't understand it, father. Here is a letter from Gilliat, saying hewould be obliged if I will hand over to an assistant who will call forit to-day, whichever of the two diamond tiaras I may have decided not toretain, as he expects a customer this afternoon whom it might suit. Idon't know what he means. Of course I have not been choosing any jewels.I should not think of such a thing without consulting you, even if I hadhad money enough in my pocket to indulge in such adornments.'
She handed the letter to her father.
'It must be some mistake,' he said, after glancing it through; 'theletter must have been meant for some one else. It must be some stupidblunder on the part of a clerk. We will go round there together afterbreakfast. I have not bought you anything of the sort yet, dear, and wasnot intending to do so until the time came nearer; indeed, I hadintended to get your mother's diamonds re-set for you. Of course, Ishould have gone to Gilliat's, as we have always dealt with his firm.'
After breakfast they drove to Bond Street.
'I want to see Mr. Gilliat himself, if he is in,' Mr. Hawtrey said.
Mr. Gilliat was in.
'My daughter has received a letter which is evidently meant for some oneelse, Mr. Gilliat. It is about two diamond tiaras, which, it seems,somebody has taken in order to choose one of them. Of course it was notintended for her.'
Gilliat took the letter, glanced at it, and then at Dorothy. 'I do notquite understand,' he said doubtfully.
'Not understand?' Mr. Hawtrey repeated with some irritation. 'Do youmean to say that Miss Hawtrey has been supplied with two diamondtiaras?'
'Would you mind stepping into my room behind, Mr. Hawtrey?' the jewellerreplied, leading the way into an inner room. As he closed the door hiseye met Dorothy's with a look of inquiry, as if asking for instructions.Hers expressed nothing but surprise. 'Am I to understand, Mr. Hawtrey,'he asked gravely, after a pause, 'that Miss Hawtrey denies havingreceived the tiaras?'
'Certainly you are,' Mr. Hawtrey said hotly, 'she knows nothing whateverabout them.'
The jeweller pressed his lips tightly together, thought for a moment,and then touched a bell on the table. An assistant entered. 'Ask Mr.Williams to step here for a moment.'
The principal assistant entered: 'Mr. Williams, do you remember on whatday it was that Miss Hawtrey selected the two tiaras?'
'It was about three weeks ago, sir; I cannot tell you the exact daywithout consulting the sales book.'
'Do so at once, if you please.'
Mr. Williams went out and returned in a moment with the book.
'It was the 15th of last month, sir--July.'
'You served her yourself, I think, Mr. Williams, or, rather, perhaps youassisted me in doing so?'
'Certainly, sir.'
'What was the value of the tiaras, Mr. Williams?'
'One was twelve hundred, the other was twelve hundred and fifty, sir.'
'She took them away herself?'
'Certainly, sir; I offered to place them in the carriage for her, butshe said it was a few doors up the street, and she would take themherself.'
/> 'You have not a shadow of doubt about the facts, Mr. Williams?'
'None whatever, sir,' the assistant said, in some surprise.
'You know Miss Hawtrey well by sight?'
'Certainly, sir; she has been here many times, both by herself, forrepairs or alterations to her watch or jewellery, and with otherladies.'
'Thank you, Mr. Williams, that will do at present.'
The door closed and the jeweller turned to his customers.
Mr. Hawtrey looked confounded, his daughter bewildered.
'I do not understand it,' she said. 'I have not been here, Mr. Gilliat,since the beginning of May, when I came to you about replacing a pearlthat had become discoloured in my necklace.'
'I remember that visit perfectly, Miss Hawtrey,' the jeweller saidgravely, 'but I must confirm what my assistant has said. Allow me torecall to you that, in the first place, you told me that in view of anapproaching event you required a tiara of diamonds, and of course,having heard of your engagement to Lord Halliburn, I understood yourallusion, and came in here with you, and had the honour of showing youfive or six tiaras. Of these you selected two, and said that you shouldlike to show them to Mr. Hawtrey before choosing. I offered to send anassistant with them, but you said that your carriage was standing a fewdoors off and that you would rather take them yourself. Our firm havinghad the honour of serving Mr. Hawtrey and his family for severalgenerations, and knowing you perfectly, I had, of course, no hesitationin complying with your request. I may say, as an evidence of theexactness of my memory, that Miss Hawtrey was dressed exactly as she isat present. I had, of course, an opportunity of noticing her dress asshe was examining the goods. She had on that blue walking dress withsmall red spots, and the bonnet with blue feathers with red tips.'
'Will you give me the hour as well as the day at which you say mydaughter called here?' Mr. Hawtrey said sternly.
'My own impression is that it was about three o'clock,' the jewellersaid, after a moment's thought.
'Will you call your assistant and ask him?'
Mr. Williams being summoned said that he had no distinct recollection asto the precise time, but that it was certainly somewhat early in theafternoon. He had returned from lunch about two, and it was not for somelittle time after that that Miss Hawtrey called; he should say it wasbetween three and half past three.
'That will be near enough,' Mr. Hawtrey said. 'You shall hear from meagain shortly, Mr. Gilliat; I know that I can rely upon you to saynothing in the meantime to anyone on the subject.'
'Certainly, Mr. Hawtrey.'
'Now, Dorothy, let us be going.'
Dorothy at the moment was unable to follow her father; she had sunk downin a chair, pale and trembling; her look of intense surprise had givenway to one of alarm and horror, and it was not until she had drunk somewater that the jeweller brought her, that she recovered sufficiently totake her father's arm and walk through the shop to the carriage.
'Well, Dorothy,' Mr. Hawtrey said, as they drove off, 'what does allthis mean?'
'I have not the least idea, father; I am utterly bewildered.'
'You still say that you did not go to the shop--that you did not examinethose tiaras and choose two of them?'
'Of course I say so, father. I have never been in the shop since I wentabout that pearl. Surely, father, you cannot suspect me of having stolenthose things.'
'I am the last man in the world to suspect you of anythingdishonourable, Dorothy, but this evidence is staggering. Here are twomen ready to swear to the whole particulars of the incident. They areboth sufficiently acquainted with your appearance to be able torecognise you readily. They can even swear to your dress. That youshould do such a thing seems to be incredible and impossible, but whatam I to think? You could not have done such a thing in your senses; itwould be the act of a madwoman, especially to go to a shop where you areso well known.'
'But why should I have done it, father? I could not have worn themwithout being detected at once.'
'You could not have worn them,' her father agreed, 'but they might havebeen turned into money had you great occasion for it.'
Dorothy started.
'Do you mean, father--oh, surely, you never can mean that I could havestolen those things to turn them into money in order to satisfy the manwho has been writing those letters?'
'No, my dear. I don't mean that myself, but that is certainly whatanyone who did not know you would say. There, don't cry so, child,' forDorothy was sobbing hysterically now; 'do not let us talk any more untilwe get home. We have got the day and hour at which you were supposed tohave been at Gilliat's. Perhaps we may be able to prove that you wereengaged somewhere else, and that it was impossible you could have beenat Gilliat's about that time.'
Nothing more was said until they reached home.
'You had better come into my study, Dorothy; we shall not be disturbedthere. Now, dear,' he said, 'let us have the matter out. I can only saythis, that if you again give me your assurance that you are absolutelyignorant of all this, and that you never went to Gilliat's on the daythey say you did, I shall accept your assurance as implicitly as I didbefore; but before you speak, remember, dear, what that entails. Thesepeople are prepared to swear to you, and will, of course, take steps toobtain payment for these things. If such steps are taken the wholematter will be gone into to the bottom. Remember everything depends onyour frankness. It will be terribly painful for you to acknowledge that,after all, you had got into some entanglement, and that you did in amoment of madness take these things in order to free yourself from it.It would be terribly painful for me to hear this, but upon hearing it Ishould of course take steps to raise this twenty-five hundred pounds,for at present I do not happen to have so much at my bankers, and tosettle Gilliat's claim. But even painful as this would be it would be athousand times better than to have all this gone into in public. On theother hand, if you still assure me that you know nothing of it I mustrefuse to pay the money, both because to do so would be to admit thatyou took the things, and because, in the second place, whoever has takenthese tiaras--for that some one has done so we cannot doubt--may againpersonate you and involve us in fresh trouble and difficulties.'
'I did not do it, father; indeed I did not do it. I have had noentanglement; I was in no need of money; I have never been nearGilliat's shop, unless, indeed, I was altogether out of my mind and didit in a state of unconsciousness, which I cannot think for a moment. Ihave worried over this until I hardly knew what I was doing, but I nevercould have gone to that shop and done as they say without having aremembrance of it. Why, the last place I should choose if I had everthought of stealing would be a place where I was perfectly known.Indeed, father, I am altogether innocent. I cannot account for it, notin the least, but I am sure that I had nothing to do with it.'
'Then, my dear, I will not doubt you for another moment,' Mr. Hawtreysaid, kissing her tenderly. 'Now we just stand in the same position aswe did in regard to the other affair; we have got to find out all aboutit. In the first place, get your book of engagements, and let us seewhat you were doing on the afternoon of the 15th.'
Dorothy went out of the room and soon returned with a pocket book.
'Not satisfactory, I can see,' Mr. Hawtrey said, as he glanced at herface.
'No, father; here it is, you see--"Lunch with Mrs. Milford;" nothingelse. I remember about that afternoon now. I drove in the carriage toMrs. Milford's, and had lunch at half-past one; there was one other ladythere. Mrs. Milford had tickets for a concert, at St. James's Hall Ithink it was, but I am not sure about that. I had a headache, and wouldnot go with them; and, besides, I had some shopping to do. I got out ofher brougham in Hanover Square. I went into Bond Street certainly, and Igot some gloves and scent; then I went into Cocks' and looked throughthe new music and chose one or two pieces, then I went into the FrenchGallery. Mrs. Milford had been talking about it at lunch, so I thought Iwould drop in. There were very few people there, so I sauntered roundand sat down and looked at those I liked best. It
was quiet andpleasant. I must have been in there a long time. When I came out I tooka cab and drove straight home. It was six o'clock when I got back, and Iremember I went straight up to my room and had a cup of tea there, thenI took off my gown and my maid combed my hair, as it was time for me todress for dinner. My head was aching a good deal and it did me good. Wedined at the Livingstones' that evening.'
'It is unfortunate, certainly, Dorothy. I had hoped we might have beenable to have fixed you somewhere that would have proved conclusivelythat you could not possibly have been at Gilliat's that afternoon. As itis, your recollections do not help us at all, for your time fromsomewhere about three till six is practically unaccounted for. Thepeople you bought the gloves and scent from could prove that you werethere, but you probably would not have been many minutes in their shop.Cocks' may remember that you were there a quarter of an hour or so.'
'I think I was there half-an-hour, father.'
'Well, say half-an-hour; the rest of the time you were really in thepicture gallery, but it is scarcely likely that, even if the man whotook your money at the door or the attendant inside noticed yousufficiently to swear to your face, they would be able to fix the day,still less have noticed how long you stayed. At any rate it is clearthat it would be possible for you to have done all you say you did thatafternoon and still to have spared time for that visit to Gilliat's.'
'I see that it is all terrible, father, but what can it all mean?'
'That is more than I can understand, Dorothy. At present we are face toface with what seems to me two impossibilities. I mean looking at themfrom an outsider's point of view. The one is that these shopmen shouldhave taken any one else for you when they are so well acquainted withyour face, and are able to swear even to the dress. No less difficult isit to believe that did you require money so urgently that you were readyto commit a crime to obtain it, you would go to the people to whom youwere perfectly well known, and so destroy every hope and even everypossibility of the crime passing undetected. One theory is as difficultto believe as the other. Those letters were a mystery, but this affairis infinitely more puzzling. I really do not know what to do. I musttake advice in the matter, of course. I would rather pay the money fivetimes over than permit it to become public, but who is to know what formthis strange persecution is to take next?'
'Do you think there is any connection between this and the other,father?'
Mr. Hawtrey shook his head. 'I do not see the most remote connectionbetween the two things. But there may be; who can say?'
'I would rather face it out,' Dorothy said, passionately. 'I wouldrather be imprisoned as a thief than go on as I have been doing for thelast six weeks; anything would be better. Even if you were to pay themoney the story might get about somehow, just as the other did. Then thefact that you paid it would be looked upon as a proof that I had takenthe diamonds. Who will you consult, father?'
'My lawyers would be the proper people to consult, undoubtedly; but theywere quite useless before, and this is wholly out of their line, Ithink. I will take a hansom and go across to Jermyn Street, and see if Ican find Ned Hampton in. I have great faith in his judgment, and no onecould be kinder than he has been in the matter. You don't mind myspeaking to him?'
'Oh, no, father. I would rather that you should speak to him than to anyone.'
Captain Hampton was in and listened in silent consternation to Mr.Hawtrey's story, and for a long time made no answer to the question.
'I can make neither head nor tail of it, Ned. What do you think?'
At first sight it seemed to him that this story explained the meeting hehad seen opposite the Agricultural Hall. She had either turned thediamonds into money or had handed them over to this man to buy hissilence. Then his faith in Dorothy rose again. It was absolutely absurdto suppose for a moment that she should have thus committed a crimewhich must be certainly brought home to her, and which would ruin herfar more than any revelations this man might make could do.
'It is an extraordinary story, Mr. Hawtrey,' he said, at last; 'evenputting our knowledge of your daughter's character out of the question,is it possible to believe that any young lady possessed of ordinaryshrewdness would go to a place where she was well known, and, have actedin the way that she is reported to have done?'
'It would certainly seem incredible, Ned, but here are two or threepeople prepared to swear that she did do so, and that they identifiedher by her dress as well as by herself.'
'We must look at the matter in every light, Mr. Hawtrey; howeverconfident you may feel of her innocence, we must look at it from thelight in which other people will regard it. They will say, of course,that Miss Hawtrey had urgent need of money for some purpose or other,and will naturally suppose that reason to be her desire to silence theauthor of those letters. They will say, that although she would ofcourse know that the bill would be sent in to her father, she would besure that he would rather pay the money than betray her sin to theworld.'
'I quite see that,' Mr. Hawtrey agreed, 'but if she had been driven todesperation by this fellow, why did she not come direct to me in thefirst place, instead of committing a theft to drive me to pay, when shemight be pretty sure in some way or other the facts would leak out, anddo her infinitely more harm with the world than any indiscretioncommitted years ago could do? Besides, had she done it for this purpose,would she not have carried through that course of action, and when thebill came in have implored me to pay it without question, and so saveher from disgrace and ruin?'
'That certainly is so,' Captain Hampton said, as his face brightenedvisibly; 'the more one thinks of it the more mysterious the affairseems. I should like to think it all over quietly. I suppose you willnot go out this evening?'
'Certainly not. There will be no more going out until this mystery hasbeen cleared up. It has been hard enough for Dorothy to bear up over herlast trouble, but it would be out of the question for her to go intosociety with this terrible thing hanging over her.'
'Then I will come round about nine o'clock. I shall have had time tothink it over before that.'
Captain Hampton's cogitations came to nothing. He walked up and down hislittle room until the lodger in the parlour below went out in despair tohis club. He tried the effect of an hour's stroll in the leastfrequented part of Kensington Gardens. He drove to Mr. Slippen's toinquire if any clue had been obtained as to Truscott's movements. He atea solitary dinner at his lodgings and smoked an enormous quantity oftobacco, but could see no clue whatever to the mystery. The meeting hehad witnessed was to him a piece of evidence far more damning than thatof the jeweller and his assistants. If she could explain that, the othermatter might be got over, though he could not see how. If she could notexplain it, it was evident that he had nothing to do but to advise herfather to settle the business at any cost.