CHAPTER XXVI.
A MASTERSTROKE.
"Well, Ringrose!"
Gordon Lowndes did not look a day older since Harry had seen him last.He wore a light cape over his evening dress, a crush-hat on his head,and behind and below the same gold-rimmed glasses there twinkled andtrembled the shrewd eyes and the singular sharp-pointed nose. The eyeswere as full of friendship as in the earliest days of the intimacy thathad come to a violent end nearly four years ago. And they had lost theold furtive look which had inspired vague suspicion from the first;nothing could have been franker or kindlier than their glance; butHarry recoiled with a ghastly face.
The story he had just heard was still ringing in his ears. It might notbe true in every detail, but it was circumstantial, there was the proofof the letter, and much of the rest bore the stamp of truth. Certain itwas that a foul crime had been committed, and that one of these two menhad been the other's accomplice, if not in its commission then afterthe fact. And what was Lowndes doing here, and what was Scrafton doingupstairs, unless they were accomplices still?
A vague feeling that he had been tricked and trapped, to what end hecould not conceive, made Harry put his back to the railings, clench hisfists, and set his teeth; yet there was nothing in the other's look tosupport such a theory.
"Come, Ringrose," said he, "I think I know what's the matter! I knowwhom you've got upstairs. I can guess what he's been telling you."
"You can?"
"Certainly I can. In point of fact, it's not guesswork at all. He wasgood enough to warn me of his intention."
"Well?"
"He's been telling you that I did what he did himself."
"Which of you am I to believe?" cried Harry in a frenzy. "You arevillains both! I believe you did it between you!"
"Steady, Ringrose, steady. I have given you provocation in the past,but I am not provoking you now. That your father's fate was differentfrom what I led you to believe it would be idle to deny any longer,especially as I am here to clear up the mystery once and for all. Takeme upstairs and you shall know the truth."
"What! Trust myself to the two of you?"
Lowndes pointed to the shadowy figure across the road.
"And to the man who is with me."
"Who is he?"
"The first detective in London," whispered Lowndes, in his pat,decisive way. "Now, will you take me up to bowl out Scrafton, or shallI call to him to come down, and make a scene here in the street? Mydear Ringrose, I may have my faults, but do you seriously mean to takehis word before mine?"
"Come up if you like," said Harry, shortly; and Lowndes turned to theman in the shadow.
"When I throw up a window," Harry heard him say, and he led the wayupstairs, feeling once more as though he were walking into a trap withhis eyes open.
"Leave the key in the door," whispered Lowndes again as they stood onthe mat. "Then he will be able to come and help us if necessary."
There was something strangely trustworthy in his face and his voice;something new in Harry's knowledge of the man. He left the key in thedoor, and he felt next moment that he had done right. Scrafton hadleapt to his feet with fear and ferocity in his face, and the emptyspirit-bottle caught up in his hand.
"What do _you_ want?" he roared. "What are _you_ doing here? You fool,I've told him everything! Shut the door, you, young fellow; now he'scome we won't let him slip."
Harry humoured him by shutting it. He had only to look on their twofaces to see which was the villain now.
"I've told him!" repeated Scrafton, in a loud, jeering voice. "I toldyou I'd round on you if ever you went back on me, and I've been as goodas my word. He knows now who persuaded his father to go abroad, and heknows why. He knows who went with him. He knows who pushed himoverboard and took the money."
"It's pretty plain, isn't it?" said Lowndes to Harry. "Be prepared toclose with him the moment he lifts that bottle higher than hisshoulder, and I'll tell you honestly what I did do. It will save time,however, if you first tell me what this fellow says I did."
Harry did so in the fewest words, while they both stood watchingScrafton, grinning in their faces as he held the empty bottle in rest.His grin broadened as the tale proceeded. And so strange was thegrowing triumph in the fierce blue eyes, if it were all untrue, that atthe end Harry turned to Lowndes and asked him point-blank whether therewas any truth in it at all.
"Heaps," was the reply. "It's nothing but the truth up to a certainpoint. I am not here to exonerate myself from fault, Ringrose, and noteven altogether from crime. It is perfectly true that it was at myinstigation your father consented to go abroad and put his faith inthis fellow's system. It was a wild scheme, if you like, but it waseither that or certain ruin, and I'd have risked it myself without theslightest hesitation. I firmly believe, too, that it would have comeoff if we'd kept cool and played well together--for make no mistakeabout the mere ability of our friend with the bottle--but it never cameto that. Your father weakened on it halfway across the Channel, andvowed he'd go back by the next boat and fail like a man. That's trueenough, and it's also true that after reasoning with him in vain I wentto send Scrafton to reassure him about the system; and here's where thelies begin. I didn't go back with him to the empty cabin. I followedhim in a few minutes, and there he was alone, and there and then hestarted accusing me of what he'd obviously done himself."
"Obviously!" jeered Scrafton. "So obviously that he made no attempt toprove it at the time!"
"I stood no chance of doing so. It would have been oath against oath.And meanwhile, Ringrose, there were the two of us in a tight placetogether--and the French lights in sight! There was nothing for it butto pull together for the time being, and to avoid discovery of yourfather's disappearance at all costs. What was done couldn't be undone;and discovery would have meant destruction to us both, without anybodyelse being a bit the better. So Scrafton went ashore muffled up in yourfather's ulster, as he has told you himself; and, indeed, the rest ofhis story is--only too true."
"You consented to this?" cried Harry, recoiling from both men, as onestood shamefaced and the other took snuff with a triumphant flourish.
"Consented to it?" roared Scrafton. "He proposed it, bless you!"
"That's not true, Lowndes?"
"I'm ashamed to say it is, Ringrose. We were in a frightful hole.Something had to be done right there and then."
"So you went ashore together?"
"No; we arranged to meet."
"To concoct the forgery I've been shown to-night? You had a hand inthat, had you?"
"I had a voice."
"Yet none of the guilt is yours!"
The tone cut like a knife. Lowndes had been hanging his head, but hisspectacles flashed as he raised it now.
"I never said that!" cried he. "God knows I was guilty enough after theevent; and God knows, also, that I did what I could to make it up toyou and yours in every other way later on. You may smile in my face--Ideserve it--but what would you have gained if I had blown the gaff?Nothing at all; whereas I should have been bowled out in getting yourfather abroad with the very money I'd raised to save the ship; and thatalone would have been the very devil for me. No Crofter Fisheries! Verylikely Wormwood Scrubs instead! I couldn't face it; so I held mytongue, and I've been paying for it to this ruffian ever since."
"Paying for it!" echoed Scrafton. "Paying _me_ to hold _my_ tongue;that's what he means!"
"It is true enough," said Lowndes quietly, in answer to a look fromHarry.
"He admits it!" cried Scrafton, snuffing horribly in his exultation;"he might just as well admit the whole thing. Who but a guilty man paysanother to hold his tongue?"
"I have confessed the full extent of my guilt," said Lowndes, in thesame quiet voice.
"Then why were you such a blockhead as to put yourself at my mercyto-night?" roared the other, his bloodshot eyes breaking into a suddenblaze of fury.
Lowndes stood a little without replying; and Harry Ringrose, stillwavering between the two men, and as yet
distrusting and condemningthem equally in his heart, saw all at once a twinkle in the spectacledeyes which weighed more with him than words. A twitch of the sharp nosecompleted a characteristic look which Harry could neither forget normisunderstand; it was not that of the losing side; and now, for thefirst time, the lad could believe it was a real detective, and not athird accomplice, who was waiting in the street below.
"Do you think I am the man to put myself at your mercy?" asked Lowndesat length, and with increased serenity.
"You've done so, you blockhead! You've put the rope round your ownneck!"
"On the contrary, my good Scrafton, I've simply waited until I wascertain of slipping it round yours. You would see that for yourself ifyou hadn't drunk your brain to a pulp. You would have seen it by theway I sent you to the devil this evening. However, I think you'rebeginning to see it now!"
"I see nothing," snarled Scrafton; "and you can prove nothing! But if Ican't hang you, I can tell enough to make you glad to go out and hangyourself. It doesn't much matter what happens to me. I'm old and poor,and about done for in any case, or I might think more of my own skin.But you're on the top of the wave--and I'll have you back in thetrough! You're living on the fat of the land--you shall see how youlike skilly! Never mind who did the trick; who took the money when itwas done?"
Harry turned once more to Lowndes, and, despite his late convictions,the question was reflected in his face.
"The notes went overboard with your father," said Lowndes. "The gold wefound in his bag in the cabin."
"And what did you do with the gold?"
Scrafton echoed the question with his jeering laugh.
"Ringrose," said Lowndes, "it didn't amount to very much; what Iconsented to take I used for your mother and you, so help me God!"
"Your mother and my eye!" cried Scrafton. "A likely yarn!"
"I believe it," said Harry, after a pause.
"You believe him?" screamed Scrafton.
"Certainly--before you."
"After all the lies he's owned up to?"
"After everything!"
Scrafton gnashed his teeth, and his bloodshot eyes blazed again.
"You had my version first, you blockhead!" he burst out. "You neverwould have had his otherwise. Can't you see he's only trying to turnthe tables on me? I tell you he threw your father into the sea, so heturns round and says I did it! Let him prove a word of it. Do you hear,you lying devil? Prove it; prove it if you can!"
Lowndes stepped over to the window and threw up the centre sash verycasually.
"It's a warm night for this sort of thing," he remarked. "Prove it, doyou say? That's exactly what I'm going to do, if you'll give me time.Steady with that bottle, though--watch him, Ringrose--that's better! Soyou still insist on having a proof, eh? Do you think I'd have refusedyour demands this evening if I hadn't had one? My good fellow, therewas a man in my house at the time who is in a position to convict youat last. He has been on your track for years--and here he is!"
As the door opened, Harry kept his eyes on Scrafton, and on the emptybottle he still gripped by the neck. Instead of being raised, itslipped through his slackened fingers and fell upon the hearthrug. Amoment later Scrafton himself crashed in a heap where he stood.
Harry turned round; a bronzed gentleman with snow-white whiskers hadentered the room and was holding out his arms to him, the tearsstanding thick in his eyes.
"My son--my son!"
* * * * *
The mist was clearing from Harry's eyes; a trembling hand held each ofhis; trembling lips had touched his forehead.
"Father--father--is it really you?"
"By God's mercy--only."
"They said you were drowned!"
"I was saved by a miracle."
"Yet you have kept away from us all these years!"
"It was the least I could do, Harry. The slur was on you and yourmother. I had cast it on you; it was for me to remove it; or never toshow my face again. God has been very good to me. I will tell you all.I am only sorry I consented to this scene."
Lowndes was kneeling over the prostrate Scrafton, loosening the snuffyraiment, feeling the feeble heart, pouring more whisky into the fallenmouth that reeked of it already.
"Is there nothing we can do?" said Mr. Ringrose.
"He will be all right in a minute or two."
"I am sorry I was a party to this business!"
"Not a bit of it, my dear sir! It was what he deserved. Sorry I toldyou your father was a detective, Ringrose. I wanted you to believe mefor once before you saw him, that was all. You'll never believe meagain--and that's what _I_ deserve."
He had looked round for a moment from the senseless man; now he bentover him once more; and father and son stepped forward anxiously. Thehigh forehead, the dirty, iron-grey hair, and the long lean nose, wereall that they could see; the glistening skin was of a leaden pallor.
"Is it more than a faint?" asked Mr. Ringrose. "Ah! I am thankful."
The blue eyes had opened; the flowing beard was moving from side toside; a feeble hand feeling for a waistcoat pocket.
"My snuff-box," he whined. "I want my snuff-box."
Harry found it and gave it to him; and after the first pinch Scraftonwas sitting upright; after the second he was struggling to his feetwith their help, and scowling at them all in turn. He shook off theirhands as soon as he felt his feet under him; and with a fine effort hetried to stalk, but could only totter, to the door. Harry was very lothto let him go, but it was his father who held the door open, whileLowndes nodded his approval of the course.
But in the doorway Scrafton turned and glared at the trio like a sickgrey wolf, and shook an unclean fist in their faces before he went.
They heard him taking snuff upon the stairs.
Young Blood Page 27