CHAPTER XLII.
A FAMILY COUNCIL.
On the following morning Aunt and Uncle Rob and Florence and Reginaldsat at the breakfast table, waiting for Dick, who had not been homeall night. Although they had had no word from him since he left themon the previous evening, they knew that he would join them at theearliest possible moment. It had been an anxious night with them, andthey had had but little sleep. There were dark rims round Aunt Rob'seyes, and signs of unrest were on Uncle Rob's countenance. Singularlyenough, the invalid of the party, Reginald, had gathered strength; hisvoice was firmer, his step more confident, and there was an expressionon his face which denoted that he had prepared himself to meet theworst that fortune had in store for him.
"Florence and I have been considering the straight and honest courseto pursue," he said, "and we have decided. She wished me at first tobe guided by your advice; but she is beginning to find out that shehas married a wilful man."
She gave him a tender smile, and put her hand in his.
"It is not that I don't value your advice; but what would be the useof asking for it if I hadn't made up my mind to take it?"
"No use, my dear," said Aunt Rob. "What have you decided to do?"
"To offer a reward for the discovery of the murderer of my father."
Aunt Rob nodded her approval, and would have expressed it had she notobserved the grave look on her husband's face. So she held her tongue,and waited for him to speak.
"It is not a plan we generally approve of," he remarked, after apause, "and it seldom meets with success."
"Has it ever?" asked Reginald.
"Yes. A fifty to one chance."
"If it were a thousand to one chance it would be wrong to throw itaway. Much of the evidence that has been given can be so construed asto cast suspicion upon me. How shall I protect myself except byshowing the world that I court the most searching inquiry? LadyWharton's story is true, and some villain, personating my father,succeeded in imposing upon and robbing her. The offer of a substantialreward will not only quicken the efforts of the police, but will set ahundred people on the hunt. God forbid that I should do anyone aninjustice. I cannot conceive that Abel Death is the murderer, and yetin the eyes of the public it lies between him and me. It would be theheight of folly to ignore that fact. Here in this paper"--he took up anewspaper, glanced at it, and flung it indignantly aside--"is a veiledallusion to Abel Death and me as accomplices. No names are mentioned,but the inference can hardly be missed. On my way home from thefuneral on Tuesday, and yesterday from the Coroner's Court, I saw someof the newspaper bills with their cruel headlines accusing _me!_ I sawthe silent accusation in the eyes of the people as I passed. Is it innature that I should sit idly down under such imputations? They areenough to drive a man mad, and I shall go mad if I do not do somethingquickly to repel them. The wretch who went down to Bournemouth musthave purchased a railway ticket; the clerk who sold it him may haveseen his face; passengers travelling the same way must have seen him:he must have been seen by other persons in Bournemouth; he may havetaken a carriage there to drive to the Gables; if he went on foot hemay have asked his way to the house; when he left Lady Wharton hecould scarcely have walked about the town till the trains started inthe morning; he must have slept somewhere; a waiter or a chambermaidmay have noticed him; there may have been something in his speech ormanner to attract attention, however slight. There are a thousandthings from which a clue may be obtained and which may be brought tothe recollection by the hope of earning money. The offer of a rewardwill stir people's memories, will cause them to come forward withscraps of information which otherwise would be thought of noimportance. Uncle Rob, Aunt Rob--I dare not, and will not, call youfather and mother till I am cleared of these vile suspicions--do younot see that I _must_ do this for dear Florence's sake, that it is myduty to make her less ashamed of the name I gave her?"
The sobs in his throat prevented him from continuing. Trembling inevery limb, shaking with passion and excitement, he turned appealinglyto his wife.
She clasped him in her loving arms, crying, "I am not ashamed of it; Iam proud of it, and of you, my dear, dear husband! If there is a stainupon our name you shall wipe it away; you shall make it bright andclean and pure, and men and women shall say, 'The son has atoned forhis father's faults, and stands before the world an honourablegentleman who has met misfortune bravely, and silenced the slandererswho dared to breathe a word against him.' Oh, my dear, my dear! Inever loved you as I love you now, I never honoured you as I honouryou now. Mother, father, stand by us--comfort him, strengthen him!"
She glowed with heavenly pity, with indignant pride, with devotedlove. The type of a true, brave, honest English girl, she stoodembracing the man whose heart, whose life, were linked with hers,ready to defend him, to suffer for him, to fling back the words ofscorn flung at him--if need were, to die for him. It is beneath thestress of a heavy stroke of misfortune that men and women such as sheshow their noblest qualities.
A great peace stole into Reginald's heart; the sobs in his throat diedaway.
"I will try to prove myself worthy of you," he said huskily. "I prayto God that I may live to prove it."
Aunt Rob's heart throbbed with exultation.
"Our daughter, father, that I nursed at my breast," she murmured toher husband. "God love and preserve her!"
"Amen!" he answered.
So in that humble home those sweet flowers bloomed in the midst of thedarkness, and through the lowering clouds one bright star shone--thestar of love and hope and mutual faith.
When the excitement had subsided, and they were all seated again,Uncle Rob said,
"Let it be as you have decided, Reginald, my lad. As an inspector ofpolice I might argue with you; as a man and a father I agree with you.And in the nick of time, here comes Dick."
To Dick, with his cheerful face and voice, that bore no traces of hisnight's anxious vigil, all was explained. He shook hands withReginald, and said,
"A good move. I'll go a step farther. Let there be two bills put outand posted all over England, one offering a reward for the discoveryof the murderer, the other for giving such information of Abel Deathas will lead to his being found. You can tell us, perhaps, UncleRob--would that be against the law?"
"I don't think the law can touch it," he replied. "It might not beapproved of in some quarters, but the law don't apply, so far as Iknow anything of it."
"If the law," said Aunt Rob, with fine disdain, "can prevent a sonfrom offering a reward for the discovery of his father's murderer theless we have of it the better. Why, instead of one man looking for themonster, there 'll be a hundred! Dick, you must see to the printing ofthe bills, and they should be got out at once."
"I will attend to everything; but before we go into details I'vesomething to tell you. I should have been here earlier if I hadn't metlittle Gracie Death. What a brick that mite is! Just listen to whatshe discovered yesterday, Reginald--that there's a way of getting intoyour father's house without getting through the front or the backdoor. You may well look startled; it nearly took _my_ breath away. Doyou remember that pitiful hoarse voice of hers, uncle, on the night ofthe fog, when she said, 'You _will_ find father, won't you, sir?'"Uncle Rob nodded. "Well, as nobody has been able to find him, she hasmade up her mind to find him herself, heaven knows how, but somehow.She thinks of nothing else, she dreams of nothing else, and she's gotit into that clever little head of hers that he's to be found inCatchpole Square, the very place, one would imagine, that he'd belikely to avoid. If faith can move mountains, as they say it can, thething is as good as done. There is such magnetism in her little bodythat when she speaks she almost makes you believe what she believes.Now, I'm not going to tell you how she got into the house while UncleRob is here. As inspector of police he would consider it his duty tomake use of the information."
"I certainly should," said Uncle Rob. "I'd best make myself scarce."
"Don't go yet, uncle.
I want you to hear something you ought to know.Gracie, talking to me this morning, tells me of a man she saw Dr.Vinsen speaking to last night. She hates that doctor--so do I; andit's because she hates him that she creeps behind them without theirseeing her, and hears Dr. Vinsen say, 'You act up to yourinstructions, and I'll keep my promise.' That's all she does hear,because the doctor, turning his head over his shoulder, sends herscuttling away; but she's certain he doesn't suspect that he'd beenfollowed and overheard. There isn't much in that, you'll say; butlisten to what follows. Gracie had just finished telling me this whena man passes us. 'There,' she says, 'that's the man.' I catch sight ofhis face, and who do you think it was?"
"Out with it, Dick," said Uncle Rob.
"It was the juryman that's been putting all those questions at theinquest about our private affairs, and that's been doing his best tothrow suspicion upon Reginald and me and all of us. Queer start, isn'tit?"
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 43