In Friendship's Guise

by William Murray Graydon

  CHAPTER XXX.

  RUN TO EARTH.

  The vicar hesitated for a moment, and then looked his companion straightin the face.

  "That unhappy man, Gilbert Morris, was spared by the sea," he answeredin a low voice. "The ship was lost, as reported, but he and two of thecrew were picked up by a sailing vessel and carried to South America.Months elapsed before they were heard of, and Diane had been gone fora year when Gilbert Morris returned to Dunwold. The news was a terribleshock to him, for he had loved his wife with all the depth of a fierceand fiery nature. His affection seemed to turn to rage, and it wasthought best to keep him in ignorance of the fact that Diane had beenseen in Paris. Brain fever prostrated him, and when he recoveredphysically from that his mind was affected--in other words, he wasa homicidal lunatic, with a fixed determination to find and kill hiswife."

  "By heavens!" exclaimed Jimmie. "The scent is getting warm! What wasdone with the man?"

  "He was sent to a private madhouse in Surrey."

  "And is he there still?"

  "No, he is not," the vicar replied agitatedly. "He succeeded in makinghis escape more than a week ago. The matter was hushed up, because itwas hoped that he would come back to Dunwold, and that he could bequietly captured here. But, in spite of the utmost vigilance, he wasnot found or traced; and this very morning I received a letter fromDoctor Bent, the proprietor of the madhouse, stating that he hadfurnished the London police with a description of his missing patient."

  "That settles it!" cried Jimmie, jumping up in excitement. "GilbertMorris is the man!"

  "Yes, I fear he is the murderer," assented the vicar. "But, pray sitdown, Mr. Drexell, and we will talk further of the sad affair. Lunchwill be ready in a few minutes, and I shall be glad to have you--"

  "Thanks, but I can't stop," Jimmie interrupted, as he put on his hat."I'm off to town to help the police to find the guilty man."

  "But surely, my dear sir, this is a very hasty conclusion--"

  "Can you doubt for one moment, in your heart, that Gilbert Morris killedthat unfortunate woman?"

  "The circumstances all point that way," admitted Mr. Chalfont. "Yes, itis a pretty clear case. It is distressing to think that the crime mighthave been prevented, had the police been promptly informed of themadman's escape. But only Doctor Bent and myself were aware of thefact--excepting the attendants of the institution. As I told you, I knewnothing of the murder until you informed me, and it was unlikely thatthe doctor--though he must have read the papers--should have associatedthe deed with Morris; he took charge of the place quite recently, andcould not have been well posted regarding the history of his patient."

  "He ought to be arrested for criminal neglect," Jimmie said,indignantly. "He is in a measure responsible for the murder. GilbertMorris might have been retaken almost at once had the police beeninformed at the time of the escape."

  "Just so!" the vicar agreed.

  "I'm off now," continued Jimmie. "I can't thank you enough, Mr.Chalfont, for the information you have given me. I shall never forgetit, nor will my friend."

  "It was Providence that guided you here," replied the vicar. "His waysare indeed marvelous. I wish you every success, Mr. Drexell. I trustthat your friend will speedily be at liberty, and if I can be of anyfurther service, count upon me."

  "I'll do that, sir," Jimmie assured him.

  The next minute he was striding away from the vicarage, and it was avery perspiring and foam-flecked horse that pulled up outside theRailway Arms at Pevensey half an hour later. Jimmie jumped out of thetrap, paid the account, and dashed over to the station. His arrivalwas timely, for he learned that a through London train was due in tenminutes. During the interval he found some vent for his impatience insending a wire to Sir Lucius Chesney, as follows:

  "Success! Back in town at three o'clock."

  Never had a railway journey seemed so long and tiresome to Jimmie asthat comparatively short one, in a fast train, from Pevensey to London.He had a book and a newspaper, but he could not read; he smoked like afurnace, and glared from the window at the flying landscape. He reachedVictoria station at five minutes past three, and just outside the gateshe met Sir Lucius.

  "I barely got here--I was afraid I'd miss you," the latter exclaimedbreathlessly; his face was a more ruddy color than usual. "I havesomething to tell you," he went on; "something that happened--"

  "It's a jolly good thing, sir, that I went down to Pevensey," Jimmieinterrupted, as he drew his companion aside to a quieter spot. "You'llscarcely believe what I have found out. The vicar told me a most amazingstory, and we spotted the murderer at once. He is Diane's realhusband--Jack was never legally married to her--and his name is GilbertMorris. He is an escaped lunatic--"

  "Gad, sir, the man is arrested!" gasped Sir Lucius. "He is in custody!"

  "Arrested?" cried Jimmie.

  "Yes; the afternoon papers are full of it. The police, furnished witha description of the man and other information, apprehended him thismorning early in a Lambeth lodging-house. There were blood-spots on hisclothing, and in his pocket they found a bloodstained knife. He becameviolent the moment he was arrested, and raved about his wife Diane, whohad deserted him, and how he had killed her to avenge his honor."

  "That's the man!" said Jimmie. "He's as mad as a March hare. Thank God,they have got him!"

  "We'll soon have Mr. Vernon out," Sir Lucius replied, cheerfully.

  Jimmie told the rest of the story in the privacy of a cab, which drovethe two rapidly from Victoria station to Bedford street, Strand. Theyfound Mr. Tenby in his office, and had a long interview with him. Thesolicitor had read the papers, and when he was put in possession ofthe further important facts bearing on the case, he promised to secureJack's release as soon as the necessary legal formalities could becomplied with. Moreover, he promised to go to Holloway within the courseof an hour or two, and communicate the good news to the prisoner. Jimmiewas anxious to go with him, but he reluctantly abandoned the projectwhen the solicitor assured him that it would be most difficult toarrange.

  "Be patient, gentlemen, and leave the matter in my hands," said Mr.Tenby. "I think we shall have Mr. Vernon out of Holloway to-morrow, andwithout a stain on his character."

  Sir Lucius and Jimmie walked to Morley's and separated. The former wentinto the hotel, half resolved to pack up his luggage and take an earlytrain in the morning to Priory Court; he was tired of London and therecent excitement he had passed through, and longed for his countryhome. But, on second thought, he altered his mind, and concluded to waituntil Jack Vernon was a free man again; he was strangely interested inthe unfortunate young artist, and was as anxious as ever to have a talkwith him on matters of a private nature.

  Jimmie went to his chambers in the Albany, where he removed the dust oftravel and changed his clothes. He did not at once go out to dinner,though he was exceedingly hungry. He was impulsive and impatient, and hehad conceived a plan whereby he might punish Victor Nevill's perfidywithout a public exposure, and at the same time, he fondly hoped, doJack a good turn.

  "It will hardly be safe to wait longer," he reflected, "for all I knowto the contrary, the girl may be married to-morrow. She will be glad tohave her eyes opened--I can't believe that she is in love with thatblackguard. As for Sir Lucius, I would rather face a battery of gunsthan tell the dear old chap the shameful story to his face. But it mustbe told somehow."

  Jimmie proceeded to carry out his plans. He took Diane's last letterfrom its hiding-place, and sitting down to his desk he made two copiesof it, prefacing each with a brief explanation of how the statement hadcome into his hands. It was a laborious task, and it kept him busy fortwo hours. At nine o'clock he went out to dinner, and on the way to theCafe Royal he dropped two bulky letters into a street-box. One wasaddressed to "Miss Madge Foster, Strand-on-the-Green, Chiswick, W." Theother to "Sir Lucius Chesney, Morley's Hotel."

  * * * * *

  It was ten o'clock in the morning, and the phenomenal November weather
showed no signs of breaking up. The sun shone brightly in TrafalgarSquare, and the people and busses, the hoary old Nelson Column and itsguardian lions, made a picture more Continental than English in itscoloring.

  But to Sir Lucius Chesney the world looked as black as midnight. Hepaced the floor of his room, purple of countenance and savage of eye,letting slip an occasional oath as he glanced at the sheets of Jimmie'sletter scattered over the table. The blow had hit him hard; it hadwounded him in his most tender spot--his family honor. His firstparoxysm of rage had passed, but he could not think calmly. His brainwas on fire with pent-up emotions--shame and indignation, bitter griefand despair, a sense of everlasting disgrace. One moment he doubted;the next the damning truth overwhelmed him and defied denial.

  "I can't believe it!" he muttered hoarsely. "It is too terrible! Howblindly I trusted that boy! I heard rumors about him, and turned a deafear to them. I knew he was inclined to be dissolute and extravagant, butI never dreamed of this! To drag the name of Chesney in the dirt! Mynephew a liar and a traitor, a scoundrel of the blackest dye to aconfiding friend, a seducer, a tout for money-lenders, a consort ofblood-sucking Jews! By heavens, I will confront him and hear the truthfrom his own lips! How do I know that this letter is not a forgery?Perhaps young Drexell never saw it."

  It was a slim ray of hope, but Sir Lucius took some comfort from it. Heput on his hat, took his stick, and marched down stairs. As he passedthrough the office, a clerk handed him a letter that had just beenbrought in. He waited until he was outside to open it, and with theutmost amazement he read the contents:

  "Pentonville Prison.

  "My Dear Sir Lucius--I see by the papers that you are in towntemporarily, so I address you at Morley's instead of Priory Court. A verycurious thing has happened. A few days ago a prisoner who was arrestedfor a breach of the police-supervision rules, but who was really wantedfor a much more serious affair, was put in my charge. This man, NoahHawker by name, sent for me and made a secret communication. He statedthat in his room in Kentish Town, where he was arrested, he had hiddensome papers of the greatest importance to yourself. He told me how tofind them, and yesterday I got them and brought them here. They are in asealed parcel, and the prisoner begs that they shall not be opened exceptin your presence, as he wishes to tell you the whole story. So I thoughtit best to send for you, and if convenient I should like to see you aboutnoon to-day. I am posting this early in the morning, and hope you willreceive it in good time.

  "Sincerely your old friend,

  "Major Hugh Wyatt."

  "I don't understand it," thought Sir Lucius. "It is certainly mostperplexing. What can it mean? I haven't seen Wyatt for years, but Iremember now that he was appointed Governor of Pentonville some timeago. But who the deuce is the man Hawker? I never heard the name. Papersof importance to me? What could they be, and how did the fellow getthem? There must be some mistake. And yet--"

  He read the letter a second time, and it turned his curiosity into adesire to probe the mystery. He concluded to put off the interview withhis nephew, and see him later in the day. He hailed a cab, and told thedriver to take him to Pentonville.