without a happy result. That boy must not be put to death. Iwould go through anything to save him."
By this time they had reached the confines of the forest. CaptainRochard said he must go back to his companions. He bade Mabel a kindfarewell, when she and Paul continued their journey towards London.Beauty seemed to understand that he was on an important journey, fornever had he trotted so swiftly over the ground. Mabel knew theimportance of reserving his strength too much to allow him to break intoa canter, or to push him on in a gallop, though her own feelings mighthave prompted her to do so. It was absolutely necessary during the heatof the day to rest. A small inn appeared close to the road. Mabelthrew herself down on a little sofa in the room appropriated to her, atthe door of which Paul kept ward and watch till it was time again tostart. The horses, well groomed and fed, were then led forth, lookingalmost as fresh as when they started in the morning. Thus, beforenightfall a large portion of the distance to London had beenaccomplished.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
IN MR. COPPINGER'S COUNTING-HOUSE.
Mr. Stephen Coppinger had been for some time in town, leaving his familyat Lynderton. It was not a time when a mercantile man could neglect hisbusiness. There was a great deal to do, for confidence had beenrestored in the mercantile world after the mutiny of the fleet had beencompletely put down.
Silas Sleech was at his desk, and, like the rest of his companions,busily employed.
Mr. Kyffin did his best to attend to business, but his mind was greatlydisturbed. He could gain no tidings of his ward. All he could learnwas that he had left the ship in which he had returned to England, andhad gone on board another man-of-war. Too probably she was one of themutinous fleet. Mr. Kyffin heard of many men losing their lives in thescuffles which ensued on board the ships when the loyal part of the crewwere struggling to restore the power into the hands of their officers.Too probably Harry, on one side or the other--he hoped on the loyalside--might have lost his life in one of these scuffles. He was sureotherwise that the lad would have written to him. One letter mightpossibly have miscarried, but he would not have gone so long withoutwriting a second or a third time. He was instituting, in the meantime,all the inquiries in his power, but he could not hear the name of HarryTryon on board any of the ships. He was not aware, of course, thatHarry had changed his name, nor that it was a common custom with seamenin those days to do so, for various reasons. Had he known of theexistence of Jacob Tuttle he might have applied to him, and he thereforehad not the same means of learning about him which Mabel possessed.
On the arrival of the post one morning at Idol Lane Mr. Sleech receiveda letter from his "respected father." The ordinary observer would havediscovered nothing in the countenance of Silas to indicate its contents.He, however, folding it up, put it in his pocket, and forthwith betookhimself to the door of Mr. Coppinger's private room, at which he humblyknocked. On being admitted, he explained to his principal that he hadreceived notice of the illness of his father and one of his sisters, andthat his presence, as the eldest son of the family, would be greatlyrequired. He therefore entreated that Mr. Coppinger would allow him toset forth without delay for Stanmore.
Mr. Coppinger was a kind-hearted man, and would on no account detain himif Mr. Kyffin could manage to have his duties performed during hisabsence.
Silas, thanking his principal, withdrew, and in a humble tone of voiceentreated Mr. Kyffin to make the necessary arrangements. The head clerklooked hard at Silas, who, though not easily abashed, let his eyes dropbefore him.
"Yes; if Mr. Coppinger gives you leave, I will certainly not detainyou," answered Mr. Kyffin.
Silas was in a great hurry to be off. Quickly putting the books atwhich he had been working in their places, he closed his desk andhurried out of the office. Mr. Kyffin looked after him.
"So great a villain never darkened that door before," he said tohimself. "May it be the last time he ever passes through it!"
Under where Silas Sleech's hat and cloak had hung Mr. Kyffin saw a bunchof keys. He had evidently dropped them in his hurry to leave the house.
"I am the fittest person to take charge of these," said Mr. Kyffin tohimself, and he forthwith retired with them into Mr. Coppinger's room.He there held a consultation of some length; then once more entering theoffice, he waited till the hour of closing. The clerks were dismissed.He and Mr. Coppinger alone remained in the office. Mr. Sleech's deskwas opened with one of the keys. Within was a strange assortment ofarticles, and among others a small iron box, with Mr. Silas Sleech'sname painted outside. There were lottery tickets, and pawnbrokers'duplicates, and packs of cards--some curiously marked--and dice whichhad a suspicious tendency to fall with the higher numbers uppermost, andletters from dames of scarcely doubtful character.
"I have suspected as much for long," said Mr. Kyffin, "but I could notwell bring the proof home. This, however, will convince you that SilasSleech is not a trustworthy person."
"Indeed it does," exclaimed Mr. Coppinger; "but see what this strong boxcontains. Probably if he leaves such articles as this scattered about,without thinking it necessary to conceal them, the contents of that boxare of a more damaging character."
The box was opened by one of the keys of the bunch.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Kyffin, "here is a letter directed to me. It is theone I have long missed from my unfortunate young ward, Harry Tryon.Excuse me, sir, while I read its contents."
Mr. Kyffin ran his eye over the letter.
"The poor lad here gives an explanation of his conduct, and his reasonsfor quitting London. He weakly yielded to the temptation thrown in hisway by Silas Sleech, that is very evident, but in no other respect do Ibelieve that he was criminal. However, we will look over the remainderof these papers, and I trust then we shall have the means of exoneratinghim still further. What do you think of these papers?" asked Mr.Kyffin, holding a sheet up to Mr. Coppinger.
On it was written over and over again the name of the firm, as signed byMr. Coppinger himself. Evidently the writer had been endeavouring toimitate Mr. Coppinger's signature. He had done so very successfully.Indeed, another paper was found containing a signature which Mr.Coppinger declared to be genuine. It was clearly the copy for theothers.
"Now I feel sure," said Mr. Kyffin, "that Silas Sleech forged that paperwhich he wished it to be supposed Harry had forged, while it's verypossible that he may also have forged Harry's signature to some of thebills which he showed us when he endeavoured to prove Harry's guilt."
"I indeed think your account very likely to be true," said Mr.Coppinger. "I am ashamed at having allowed such a scoundrel as Mr.Sleech undoubtedly is, to have remained so long in my office undetected;yet so plausible are his manners, that had this evidence against him notbeen discovered, I should have been unwilling to believe him guilty."
"You will not let him escape, surely, sir," said Mr. Kyffin; "justicedemands that he should be brought to trial, so that the character ofyour nephew may be vindicated."
The two gentlemen examined all the papers thoroughly, making notes oftheir contents, and then locked them carefully up in the safe in Mr.Coppinger's room. Mr. Kyffin having accompanied Mr. Coppinger to BroadStreet, and supped with him, returned at night to the office, where heoccasionally occupied a bedroom. He had been in bed for some time,though not asleep, thinking over Harry's affairs, when he was aroused bya knocking at the door. He heard the porter go out of his room andadmit some one. It immediately struck him that it was Silas Sleech; foras the porter knew nothing of his proceedings, he would naturally,without hesitation, admit him. Rapidly dressing, therefore, he struck alight, and putting the pistol, which he usually carried to and fromHampstead, in his pocket, he proceeded down-stairs. The person who hadcome in did not go to Mr. Sleech's room; but after a few minutes'conversation entered the counting-house. Mr. Kyffin heard him wish theporter good-night, and say that he should not be long.
"Call me at an early hour, there's a good fellow, for I have to be offbet
imes," he added.
Mr. Kyffin waited a minute, and then proceeded down-stairs into theoffice. A light was burning on the desk. By it he saw Mr. Sleechhunting about in all directions, evidently looking for his keys. Thesearch was, of course, in vain. He seemed to think so, for producing acold iron from his pocket, with as little noise as possible he wrenchedopen the desk. He seized the light and looked in. Dismay was depictedon his countenance. At that instant Mr. Kyffin entered the room.
"Wretched scoundrel, confess your villainies!" he exclaimed. "Was it tobetray an honest youth, and to blast his character through a miserablefeeling of jealousy and revenge, that you pretended to be his friend?Confess what you have done, or prepare to be given over into the handsof justice."
On hearing Mr. Kyffin's
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