 CHAPTER XIII. THEORIES, WISE AND OTHERWISE. Half an hour later, having excused himself to Miss Carlton, Mr. Whitney hastened to the grove, where he found the detective sauntering up and down the winding walk, his hands behind him in a reflective mood, absorbed in thought, and in the enjoyment of a fine cigar. He nodded pleasantly as the attorney approached. Going to be at liberty for some time, he inquired, at the same time extending his cigar case. Yes, for any length of time you please, it's a relief to get away from those egotists. Hmm! said Merrick as he returned the cigar case to his pocket after the attorney had helped himself. I didn't think that you looked particularly anxious to be relieved of your company when I saw you. I really felt considerable delicacy about speaking as I did. Oh, the deuce with your nonsense! The attorney replied, his cheek flushing as he lighted his cigar. If you had listened to the twaddle that I have all day, you would be glad to talk to almost anyone for a change. In that event, perhaps you won't mind talking to me for a while. Well, suppose we go down to the stables to the coachman's room. He is probably with his best girl by this time, and we will be safe from interruption or eavesdroppers. That suits me all right, so long as Ralph Mainwearing doesn't think of looking for me there, that man makes me exceedingly weary. Anxious to secure the property according to the terms of that will, I suppose. Anxious! He is perfectly insane on the subject. He can't talk of anything else, and he'll move heaven and earth to accomplish it too, if necessary. Don't anticipate any difficulty, do you? On whatever, unless from that woman, there's no knowing to what she may resort. It will only be necessary to prove that the will, if not in existence at the death of the testitor, was fraudulently destroyed prior there too, and I think we have a pretty clear case. By George Merrick, suddenly exclaimed the attorney in a different tone, as he paused on the way to the stables. I hadn't thought of it before, but there's one thing ought to be done. We should have this lake dragged at once. Merrick raised his eyebrows in mute inquiry. To find whatever brown threw in there. You know it might furnish us with an almighty important clue. Hmm, might be a good idea, Merrick remarked thoughtfully. Of course it would. I tell you, Merrick, I was cut out for a detective myself, and I'm pretty good for an amateur now. Haven't a doubt of it, was the quiet response, and the pair resumed their walk. Both were soon comfortably seated in the coachman's room. Their chairs tilted at just the right angle before a large double window facing the sunset. Both smoked in silence for a few moments, each waiting for the other to speak. Well, my friend, what do you know? inquired the detective, while he watched the delicate spirals of blue smoke as they diffused themselves in the golden haze of the sunlight. Just what I was about to ask you, said his companion. Oh, time enough for that later. You have been looking into this case, and as you are a born detective, I naturally would like to compare notes with you. Mr. Whitney glanced sharply at the detective, as those suspicious of some sarcasm lurking in those words. But the serious face of the latter reassured him, and he replied, Well, I've not had much experience in that line, but I've made quite a study of character, and can tell pretty correctly what a person of such and such evident characteristics will do under such and such conditions. As I have already stated to you, I know both from observation and from hints dropped by humane wearing, that if ever a dangerous woman existed, artful, designing, absolutely devoid of the first principles of truth, honor, or virtue, that woman is Mrs. Lagrange. I know that main wearing stood in fear of her to a certain extent, and that she was constantly seeking, by threats, to compel him to either marry her, or secure the property to her and her son, and I also know that he was anxious to have the will drawn in favor of his namesake as quickly and as secretly as possible. Now knowing all these circumstances, what is more reasonable than to suppose that she, learning in some way of his intentions, would resort to desperate measures to thwart them? Her first impulse would be to destroy the will, then to make one final effort to bring him, by threats, to her terms, and failing in that, her fury would no no bounce. Now what does she do? Since for Hobson, the one man whom humane wearing feared, who knew his secret and stood ready to betray it, between them the plot was formed. They have another interview in the evening, to which Hobson brings one of his co-agitors, the two coming by different ways like the vile conspirators they were, and in all probability, when humane wearing bade his guests good night, every detail of his death was planned and ready to be carried into execution in the event of his refusing to comply with that woman's demands made by herself personally and later through Hobson. We know from the Darkies' testimony that Hobson and his companion appeared in the doorway together, that the man suddenly vanished, probably concealing himself in the shrubbery, as Hobson went back into the house, that a few moments later the latter reappeared with Mrs. Lagrange, and the Darkie tells me that he, supposing all was right, slunk away in the bushes and left them standing there. We know that the valet, going upstairs a while after, found Mrs. Lagrange in the private library, and at the same time detected the smell of burning paper. You found the burnt fragments of the will in the grate in the tower room. Now, to my mind, it is perfectly clear that Mrs. Lagrange and Hobson proceeded together to the library and tower room, where they first destroyed the will, and where she secreted him to await the result of her interview with main wearing, at the same time providing him with the private keys by which he could affect his escape, and with humane wearing's own revolver with which the terrible deed was done. Later, finding that main wearing would not accede to her demands, I believe she left that room, knowing to a certainty what his fate would be, in case Hobson could not succeed in making terms with him, and I believe her object in coming down the corridor afterwards was simply to ascertain that her plans were being carried into execution. Now there is my theory of this whole affair. What do you think of it? Very ingeniously put together. What about the jewels? Do you think Hobson took them? No, I think Mrs. Lagrange got possession of them in some way. She has no means of her own to hire that scoundrel, yet the darkie hurt her promise to pay him liberally, and you see her very first attempt to pay him was the sale of some of those jewels. I'll acknowledge, I'm not prepared to say how or when she secured them. Could she open the safe? That I cannot say, main wearing told me some months ago that he found her one day attempting to open it, and he immediately changed the combination. Whether she had discovered the new combination I am unable to say, but she is a deep woman, and usually finds some way of accomplishing her designs. Brown, the coachman, seems to have no place in this theory of yours. Well, of course, we none of us thought of him in connection with this affair, until since his sudden disappearance yesterday. But I am inclined to think that he is to be regarded in the light of an accessory after the fact. I think it very probable that Mrs. Lagrange has employed him since the murder to assist her in concealing evidences of the crime, and that is why I suggested dragging the lake in search of what may be hidden there. But according to his own story he was in the city that night until some time after the murder was committed. Yes, according to his own story, but in reality he did not go to the city at all that night. More than that, he was seen in this vicinity about midnight with a couple of suspicious-looking characters. By George! When did you learn that? I knew it when Brown gave his testimony at the inquest. The douche you did! And then let the rascal give you the slip, after all. Don't give yourself any anxiety on that score. I can produce Brown any hour he's wanted. One of my subordinates has his eye on him day and night. In the last reports, he and Brown were occupying the same room in a third-class lodging-house. I'll wager they're having a game of cards together this evening. Well, well, you have still in a march on us. But if I may ask, why don't you bag your game? I am using him as a decoy for larger game. Whatever Brown is mixed up in, he is only a tool in the hands of older and shrewder rascals. Before the attorney could say anything further, Merrick rose abruptly and stepped to a table nearby, returning with a package. What do you think of that? He asked, removing the wrappings and holding up the rusty metallic box. Great heavens, ejaculated Mr. Whitney, springing forward excitedly. Why, man alive! You don't mean to say you have found the jewels. No such good fortune as that yet, the detective answered quietly. Only the empty casket. And having opened the box, he handed it to the attorney. Where did you find this? The latter inquired, fished it out of the lake. Ah, I should like to know when. While you were snoring this morning. Great Scott, they'll catch a weasel asleep when they find you napping. But by George, this rather confirms my theory about that woman getting possession of the jewels and hiring Brown to help her, doesn't it? Without replying, Merrick handed over the revolver which had been brought to light that morning. Where did you get this rusty thing? Was it in the lake also? The detective nodded affirmatively, and Mr. Whitney examined the weapon in some perplexity. Well, I must say, he remarked at length. I don't see what connection this has with the case. The shooting was done with Hugh Mainwearing's own revolver. That was settled at the inquest. Pardon me, it was only settled that the revolver found lying beside him was his own. The attorney stared as Merrick continued, at the same time producing from his pocket the revolver in question. This, as you are doubtless aware, is a Smith and Wesson .32 caliber, while that, pointing to the rusty weapon in Mr. Whitney's hands, is an old Colts revolver, a .38. On the morning of the murder after you and the coroner had gone, I found the bullet for which we had searched unsuccessfully, and from that hour to this I have known what before I had suspected, that this dainty little weapon of Mr. Mainwearing has played no part in the shooting. Here is the bullet you can see for yourself. Mr. Whitney gazed in silent astonishment as the detective compared the bullet with the two weapons, showing conclusively that it could never have been discharged from the familiar .32 caliber revolver. Well, I'll be blessed if I can see what in the dickens that revolver of Mainwearing's had to do with the affair anyway. Very easily explained when you take into consideration the fact that the whole thing was an elaborately arranged plan on the part of the murderer to give the affair an appearance of suicide. One glance at the murdered man convinced me that the wound had never been produced by the weapon lying at his side. That clue led to others, and when I left that room with you to attend the inquest, I knew that Hugh Mainwearing had been shot with a .38 caliber revolver in his library near the center of the room, and that the body had afterwards been so arranged in the tower room as to give the appearance of his having deliberately shot himself beside his desk and with his own revolver. By George, I believe you're right, said the attorney, and I recall now your statement that day that the shooting had occurred in the library. I wondered then what reason you had for such an opinion. A small stain on the library carpet and the bullet told me that much. Another thing which at first puzzled me was the marked absence of blood stains. There was a small pool of blood underneath the head, a slight stain on the carpet in the adjoining room, but none on the clothing or elsewhere. The solution to this I found on further investigation. The wound had been firmly and skillfully bandaged by an expert hand, the imprint of the bandage being plainly visible in the hair on the temples. Here is the proof that I was correct, and Merrick held up to the attorney's astonished view, the stained and knotted handkerchief. This, with the private keys belonging to Mr. Mainwearing's library, was in that box at the bottom of the lake. Do you consider Mrs. Lagrange or Hobson capable of planning and carrying out an affair so adroitly as that? You've got me floored, the attorney answered, gazing at the proofs before him. Hobson I know nothing about, but that woman I believe could scheme to beat the very devil himself, and yet, Merrick, when you think of it, it must have taken time, considerable time, to plan a thing like that. Or else, Merrick suggested, it was the performance of an expert criminal, no bungling, no work of a green hand. Mr. Whitney stared slightly, but the detective continued. Another point, Hobson, as you say, was the one man whom Hugh Mainwearing feared and who evidently had some hold upon him. Would he then have dared to announce him as a liar and an imposter? Would not his use of such terms imply that he was addressing one whom he considered a stranger and unacquainted with the facts in the case? I see, the attorney replied quickly. You have in mind Hobson's accomplice, the tall man with the dark glasses. Merrick smiled. You are then inclined to the opinion that J. Henry Carruthers, who called in the afternoon, is identical with the so-called Jack Carroll who accompanied Hobson in the evening. Certainly that is a reasonable supposition. The descriptions of the two men agree remarkably, and the darkie was positive, both in his testimony at the inquest and in conversation with me, that they were one and the same person. Their general appearance seems to have been much the same, but their conduct and actions were totally unlike. Carruthers acted fearlessly, with no attempt at concealment, while, if you stop to think of it, of all the witnesses who tried to give a description of Carroll, not one had seen his face, he always remained in the background, as much concealed as possible. I don't deny that you are correct, the attorney said musingly, and they may have been two distinct individuals. Carroll evidently being the guilty party, but even in that event, in my opinion, he was only carrying out with a skilful hand the plans already arranged by that woman and Hobson. Whatever part Carroll took in the affair, he was undoubtedly Hobson's agent, and you will find that Hobson and Mrs. Lagrange have been more intimately associated and for a much longer time than you suspect, and Merrick repeated what he had overheard of the interview in Mrs. Lagrange's parlor just after the close of the inquest. Mr. Whitney listened with deep interest. Well, well, and you heard her accuse him of being a necessary? Of course you refer to the murder. By George, I should have wanted them arrested on the spot. After a slight pause, he continued, there's one thing, Merrick, in the conduct of Carruthers, which I don't understand. Why, after telling the secretary that he would remain at the Arlington for the next two or three days, should he return to the city the next morning on the 310 train? He seems to have been an impulsive man who acted on the spur of the moment, Merrick answered, but the strangest part of that is that he did not return to the city at all. He bought a ticket for New York, but the conductor informs me there was no such man on board, while the northbound train, which pulls out about five minutes later, had a passenger answering exactly to his description. The conductor on the latter train also informed me that, just as they were pulling out of the station, a man, tall and dark, rather good-looking, he should judge, though he could not see his face, and wearing a long, light overcoat, sprang aboard, decidedly winded, as though from running, and immediately steered for the darkest corner of the smoking car, where he sat with his hat, well drawn down over his face. Carol, again, by George, exclaimed the attorney, here is a problem for you to solve, Merrick continued, pointing to the revolver and box lying side by side. You think Brown threw those in the lake. Who was the man that Brown saw, standing beside the lake just before three o'clock in the morning, and what was he doing? He was tall and dark, and wore a long coat or ulster. Was that Carol, or her others? Did he throw anything into the lake? And if so, what? Mr. Whitney gazed dubiously at the detective for a moment, then began to whistle softly, while he slowly shook his head. No, Merrick, you've got me there. I never have had enough experience in this line that I could go into the detail work. I have to be guided by the main points in the case. Then again, I gave Brown's testimony very little thought, as I considered him unreliable and irresponsible. Well, to come back to the main points then, what reasons have you for connecting Mrs. LaGrange and Hobson with his affair that might not apply equally well in the cases of certain other people? What reason? Why, man alive, there is every reason to consider Mrs. LaGrange the instigator of the whole affair. In the first place, her one object and name for the past 17 or 18 years has been to get hold of humane wearing's property to secure for herself and her son what she calls their rights. That is the point, Merrick interrupted. You consider her guilty because she would be interested in securing a hold upon the property, although she personally has no claim whatever. Has it never occurred to you that there might be others more deeply interested than she in as much as they have valid claims being the rightful heirs? I never thought of such a possibility, said the astonished attorney, and I don't know that I understand now to whom you refer. I have learned from various reliable sources, the detective replied, that Ralph Mainwearing has a younger brother, Harold, who is as much of a money-lover as himself, though too indolent to take the same measures for acquiring it. He is a reckless unprincipled fellow and having about run through his own property, I understand, he had great expectations regarding this American estate depending upon his share of the same to retrieve his wasted fortune. I learned yesterday by cable that since the departure of Ralph Mainwearing and his family for this country, his brother has been missing, and it is supposed among his associates in London that he took the next steamer for America, intending to assert his own claims. And you think, the attorney interrupted breathlessly, but Merrick shook his head and continued. I have also, in the course of my investigations, incidentally discovered you Mainwearing's secret and consequently Hobson's secret, only that I know the real facts in the case, which Hobson does not know. You, as Mainwearing's friend, will not care to learn the details, and I shall not speak of them now, but I will say this much. There are probably in existence today, and perhaps not very far distant, heirs to this property, having a claim proceeding not only that of Ralph Mainwearing or his son, but of Hugh Mainwearing himself. There was a silence for a few moments as the detective paused. Mr. Whitney's surprise rendering him speechless. At last, he said, well, you are a truthful fellow, Merrick, and you never jump at conclusions, so I know your statements can be relied upon, but I'll be blessed if I understand how or when you have gathered all this information together. I suppose it would be useless to ask your deductions from all this, but I wish you would answer one or two questions. Do you think that this Harold Mainwearing, or those possible heirs you mentioned, would put in an appearance personally, or that they would work through agents and amissaries? Depends altogether upon circumstances. Harold Mainwearing would not be likely to appear on the scene unless he were pretty effectually disguised. As to the others, if they were to assert their claim, it would be difficult to say just what course they might take. I have made these statements merely to give you a hint of the possibilities involved in the case. It is now getting rather late, but I will give you one or two pointers to ruminate upon. Don't think that Hopson will run any risk or put himself to any personal inconvenience for Mrs. LaGrange. He is working first and foremost for Richard Hopson, after that for whoever will pay him best. Another thing, don't ever for a moment imagine that Hugh Mainwearing's private secretary is looking for a job. It's my opinion, he'll give you fellows one of the hardest jobs you ever tackled. And unless I'm greatly mistaken, he's got brains enough and backing enough to carry through whatever he undertakes. Say, I don't know as I exactly catch your meaning, but that's one thing I wanted to ask you. What do you think of that young man anyway? I can't make him out. I noticed that you had not assigned him any place in that theory of yours. No, he's been a mystery to me, a perfect mystery, but this evening a new idea has occurred to me and I would like your judgment on it. Has he ever reminded you of anyone? That is, can you recall anyone whom he resembles? Well, I should say there was a marked resemblance. I've often wondered where your eyes were that you had not seen it. You have noticed it then? Well, so have I, but it has puzzled me. For though the look was familiar, I was unable to recall who's it was until tonight. Now that I have recalled it, that, taken in connection with some other things I have observed, has led me to wonder whether it were possible that he is a son of humane wearings, of whose existence no one in this country has ever known. Humane wearing? I don't understand you. Why, you just acknowledged you had noticed the resemblance between them. I beg your pardon, but you must recollect that I have never seen humane wearing living and have little idea how he looked. By George, that's a fact. Well then, who in the dickens do you think he resembles? The coachman's step was heard at that instant on the stairs and Merrick's reply was necessarily brief. Laying aside expression, take feature for feature, and you have the face of Mrs. Lagrange. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of that main wearing affair. This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. That main wearing affair by A. Maynard Barber. Chapter 14. The Exit of Scott, the Secretary. One of the first duties which the Secretary was called upon to perform during his brief stay at Faroaks was to make a copy of The Lost Will. He still retained in his possession the stenographic notes of the original document as it had been dictated by Hugh Mainwearing on that last morning of his life, and it was but the work of an hour or two to again transcribe them in his clear chirrography. Engaged in this work, he was seated at the large desk in the Tower Room, which had that morning been open for use for the first time since the death of its owner. He wrote rapidly, and the document was nearly completed, when Mr. Whitney and Ralph Mainwearing together entered the adjoining room. He gad! He heard the latter exclaim angrily, If that blasted scoundrel thinks he has any hold on me, or that he can keep me on the rack as he did Hugh, he'll find that he has made the biggest mistake of his life. It is nothing but a blackmailing scheme, and I have more than half a mind to sift the whole matter to the bottom, and land that beggarly imposter where he belongs. I hardly know just what to advise under the circumstances, Mr. Whitney answered quietly, for I naturally have some personal feeling in this matter, and I am forced to believe, Mr. Mainwearing, that there is something back of all this, which neither you nor I would care to have given publicity. But laying aside that consideration, I am of the opinion that it might not be to your interest to push this matter too closely. On what grounds, sir, do you base your opinion? Mr. Mainwearing demanded. The attorney's reply, however, was lost upon Scott, whose attention had been suddenly arrested by the imprint of a peculiar signature across one corner of the blotter upon which he was drawing his work, now completed. Instantly, oblivious to everything else, he carefully examined the blotter. It was a large one, fastened to the top of the desk, and had been in use for a comparatively short time. It bore traces of both Hugh Mainwearing's writing and of his own, but this name, standing out boldly on one corner, was utterly unlike either, nor did it resemble any of the signatures attached to the wheel on that memorable day when the desk and its paraphernalia had been last used. Considerably perplexed, Scott suddenly recalled a small pocket mirror which he had seen in the desk. This he speedily found, and having placed it at the right angle, leaned over to get a view of the name as it had been originally written. As he did so, he caught sight of some faint lines above the signature, which he had not observed, but which were plainly visible in the mirror. It was well for the secretary that he was alone, for as he read the signature with the words outlined above, he was spellbound. For a moment he seemed almost paralyzed, unable to move. His brain whirled, and when at last he sank back in his chair, his face was blanched, and he felt giddy and faint from the discovery which he had made. Gradually he became conscious of his surroundings. Again he heard, as in a dream, the conversation in the adjoining room. The attorney was speaking. I do not at present feel at liberty to give the source of my information, but I can assure you it is perfectly reliable, and my informant would never have made such an assertion unless he had ample authority to back it up. I don't care a wrap for your information or its source," the other interrupted impatiently. The whole thing is simply preposterous. The estate descended regularly to Hugh Mainwearing, and from him to our own family as next of kin. You can see for yourself that to talk of any other claimants having prior rights is an utter absurdity. Had not Hugh Mainwearing an elder brother, he had, but you must be aware that he died a great many years ago. But had that elder brother no issue, none living, Mr. Mainwearing replied coldly, then added in the same tone, even had there been the fact would have no bearing on this case, Mr. Whitney. The entire estate was transferred to Hugh Mainwearing by legal process before the death of his brother. He and his heirs having been forever disinherited, so that it is the same as though he had never existed. While he was speaking the secretary entered the library, his pallor and unusual expression attracting Mr. Whitney's attention. In response to a glance of inquiry from the latter, however, he merely said, the copy is completed, you will find it on the desk, and pass from the library into the hall. Still wondering at his appearance, Mr. Whitney proceeded to the tower room, and a moment later both gentlemen were absorbed in the perusal of the duplicate of the lost will. But afterwards the attorney recalled that, on taking the document from the desk, he had noted that the large blotter covering the top had been removed and replaced by a new one. There was no perceptible change in Scott's appearance during the remainder of the day, except that he seemed more than usually thoughtful, sometimes to the verge of abstraction. But in reality his mind was so preoccupied with endless doubts and surmises regarding his recent discovery that he found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate his attention upon the work required of him. That afternoon, however, while engaged in looking through some important documents belonging to Hugh Mainwearing kept at the city offices, a cablegram was handed him, addressed to himself personally, from Barton & Barton, a well-known legal firm in London. The dispatch itself cost him little surprise, as he had been in correspondence with this firm for more than a year, but the contents of the message were altogether unexpected, and left him in a state of bewilderment. It read, Have you met J. Henry Carruthers of London supposed to have sailed ten days since, or can you give us his whereabouts? Fortunately, Scott was alone, Ralph Mainwearing and the attorney being in the private offices, and he had plenty of opportunity to recover from his surprise. For half an hour he revolved the matter in his thoughts, wondering whether this had any bearing upon the question which for the last few hours he had been trying to solve. A little later he sent the following reply. Person mentioned seen on Seventh Instant. No trace since. You have my letter of Eighth Instant. Cable Instructions. As the Mainwearing carriage appeared at the offices at four o'clock, to convey the gentleman to Fair Oaks, Mr. Whitney was surprised to find the Secretary still engaged at his desk. If you will excuse me, the latter said pleasantly, I will not go out to Fair Oaks this evening. I have some unfinished work here, and I will remain in the city tonight. Upon entering the offices the next day, however, the attorney found the following note addressed to himself. Mr. Whitney, dear sir, I regret to be compelled to inform you that you will have to look for another assistant, as important business calls me away for an indefinite period. Do not give yourself any trouble concerning the salary which you kindly offered me. I am not in need of it, and I have only been too glad to render you the little assistance within my power, knowing, as I do, that you have no easy case on your hands. Trusting we shall meet in the future, I am, with great esteem, very truly yours, H. Scott. As Mr. Whitney read and reread this note, the words of the detective regarding the private secretary were recalled to his mind, and he muttered, Yes, Merrick was right. It is very evident the young man is not looking for a job, but I'll be blessed if I know what to think of him. Upon Mr. Whitney's return to Fair Oaks, he found the guests assembled on the veranda, overlooking the river. Mr. Merrick, who had just returned from a few days absence, being also included in the company. There were many exclamations of surprise and considerable comment when Mr. Whitney told of the sudden disappearance of the secretary. Now that's too bad, cried Edith Thornton. He was so interesting, and we were all beginning to like him so much. I don't know that any of us were so charmed with him as one might be led to suppose from your remark, Edith, said Isabelle Mainwearing, with a disdainful glance towards the attorney who had seated himself beside Miss Carlton, but here almost anyone will answer for a diversion, and he was really quite entertaining. It is not to be expected that you would see or appreciate his good points, said her brother with half a sneer. But Scott is a fine fellow and a gentleman, and I shall miss him awfully. Miss Carlton remained silent, but for some reason, unexplainable to herself, she was conscious of a vague sense of disappointment and injury. She would not admit to herself that she was troubled because Scott had gone. It was the manner of his departure. Surely after the friendship and confidence she had shown him, he might at least have sent some word of farewell instead of leaving as he had, apparently without a thought of her. However she chatted graciously with Mr. Whitney, though all the while a proud, dark face with strange, beautiful eyes persistently forced itself before her mental vision, nearly obliterating the smiling face of the attorney. Meanwhile, Ralph Mainwearing was giving the detective his views on the subject. I, for one, am not sorry that he has followed the example of the coachman and taken himself off. It is my opinion, he continued in impressive tones, that we may yet find he had reasons for leaving in this manner. Undoubtedly, Merrick remarked with equal emphasis. Now that's just where you're wrong, Governor," said young Mainwearing. Scott is as good as gold. There's no sneak about him, either, and if he had reasons for leaving as he has, there were nothing to his discredit. You can stake your last shilling on that. Oh, I know he has pulled the wool over your eyes," said his father. But he has never tried his smooth games on me. He knows I can see through him. I did test him. One of your typical American swells. Just what one would expect to find in a country where a common clerk is allowed to associate with gentlemen. But begging your pardon, Mr. Mainwearing, the detective interposed quietly, Mr. Scott is not an American. He has lived less than two years in this country. A chorus of exclamations followed this statement. Not an American? Then he must be an Englishman, cried Miss Carlton, her sparkling eyes unconsciously betraying her pleasure at the discovery. Merrick, are you sure of that? inquired Mr. Whitney in astonishment. Certainly or I would never have made the assertion I did. Ralph Mainwearing suddenly turned the conversation. How about that wheel business, Mr. Whitney? When will that come off? The petition was filed this afternoon, and will be granted a hearing sometime next week. I have not yet learned the day. And then will you gentlemen be ready to start for home? Mrs. Mainwearing inquired, a touch of impatience in her voice. Well, by my soul, I should say not, laughed Mr. Thornton, before her husband could reply. It will probably take a number of months, my dear madam, to settle up this estate, even if there should be no contest. And if the case is contested, it may drag on for years, eh, Mr. Whitney? That will depend upon circumstances. A contest would, of course, delay the case, perhaps for several months. But I am not aware of any contestants with sufficient means for continuing at the length of time you mentioned. Mercy, me, exclaimed Mrs. Mainwearing, addressing her husband. Do you and Hugh intend to remain here all that time? Our stay will probably be somewhat indefinite, he replied evasively. But that is no reason why you and the young ladies need remain against your will. Indeed. Why could you not have said this much before? Neither Isabel nor I care to remain here a day longer than is necessary. We have simply been awaiting your pleasure. Wilson, bring me the morning papers. I want to see what boats are expected. We will take the first steamer home. Mr. Thornton, will you and the young ladies accompany us, or do you prefer to remain in exile a while longer? Well, replied that gentleman, smiling genially, speaking for myself, I would more than half like to stay and see this thing through. But the ladies are in the majority, and I will abide by their decision. How is it, Edith? I suppose, as the novelists say, you will be torn by conflicting emotions. You hard old papa! Of course, if Auntie is going back, I shall go with her. What do you say, Winifred? I have very little choice, one way or the other, Miss Carleton replied, more quietly than was usual for her. Whatever you and Uncle William decide will suit me. Ah, here are the papers, said Mrs. Mainwaring, adjusting her eyeglasses. These dreadful American dailies, she exclaimed, as she scanned the pages. One never knows where to find anything. Ah, here it is. That's what we want. The campania sails Thursday at three o'clock. That will suit us exactly. Tomorrow, so soon, exclaimed two or three voices. Certainly, she replied, rising, I shall have the maids begin pecking at once, and Mr. Thornton, I shall instruct Wilson to attend directly to your luggage, for you would never think of it until within an hour of sailing. Her departure seemed the signal for the breaking up of the little company. After Whitney lingered a few moments at Miss Carleton's side, with a few murmured words of regret that she was to leave so soon, to which she listened courteously, though making little response. After he had gone, she remained standing where he had left her, gazing dreamily out on the river and the distant bluffs. Merrick, slowly sauntering up and down the veranda, had observed the whole scene, and now watched the fair young face with a suggestion of a smile in his kindly eyes. Hmm, he soliloquized. Whitney is a bigger fool than I've given him credit for if he thinks he stands any show in that direction. If I'm not mistaken, I know which way the wind blows, and it's dollars to doughnuts. She'll lose that faraway expression of hers before she's been aboard the Campania many hours. I'd like to be aboard myself and watch the transformation scene. The attorney's voice here broke in upon his cogitations. I say, Merrick, that was a regular bomb you threw at main-wearing with regard to young Scott. How did you discover he was an Englishman? I very easily ascertain that he was not an American, that he was of English descent followed as a matter of course. I am not sure whether he is of English birth. You seem to be keeping an eye on him. It is my business just now to be posted regarding everyone associated with this place. I've been keeping an eye on you for the last thirty minutes. The attorney colored, and hastily reverted to the original topic of conversation. Have you seen anything of him since he left us? Since his resignation of the salary as well as the position of private secretary, queried the detective, half to himself, with a tone of amusement, which Mr. Whitney failed to comprehend. Yes, I met him today at the Murray Hill. At the Murray Hill, is he stopping there? He evidently was this morning. So was I. Possibly we were both stopping on the same business, I cannot say. The detective's face was a study, as was also the attorney's. I supposed, said the latter after a pause, from the tenor of his note that he intended to leave the city at once. Possibly he does, replied the other enigmatically, and having consulted his watch turned abruptly in another direction. Say, what will you do about him? Shall you watch him? Mr. Whitney called after the vanishing figure. Merrick looked back over his shoulder with a peculiar smile. I shall not lose track of him, he said slowly. He is too interesting. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of that Main Wearing Affair The Main Wearing Party was among the latest arrivals at the pier on the following day. Owing to the dilatoriness of Mr. Thornton, Mrs. Main Wearing's efforts to the contrary notwithstanding. At the last moment he appeared, serenely and smilingly unconscious of that lady's frowns of displeasure, to the infinite amusement of his daughter, who whispered to Ms. Carlton, Poor Papa! See how anti-glairs at him, and he does not even know it. But even Mrs. Main Wearing's facial muscles relaxed slightly at the sight of the beautiful ocean gray hand lying in the harbor. Her flags waving and streamers fluttering in the breeze, awaiting only the captain's orders to start her on her homeward course. The decks were crowded with humanity, for the most part laughing and chatting gaily, and singing bits of song, though here and there were sad, tear-stained faces, where long farewells, some of them perhaps the last farewells, were being spoken. Thank heaven there will be no tear shed on this occasion, said Isabelle Main Wearing, unless, she added, with a glance of scorn towards Ms. Carlton's escort, Mr. Whitney should contribute a few. I detest such vulgar demonstrations in public. The attorney certainly did not look very cheerful, and even Ms. Carlton's sunny face was somewhat overcast, though why it would seem difficult to determine, since she seemed to have no regrets at leaving America. Mercy me, ejaculated Mrs. Main Wearing. What a dreadful crowd! It is far worse than when we came over. Phew! I wonder if your father examined the ship's list. I particularly requested him to do so. I wished to ascertain whether there would be any friends of ours on board. One does not care to make acquaintances promiscuously, you know. I don't think the governor investigated the subject very thoroughly. Young Main Wearing replied with a laugh. I noticed when we registered there were three or four pages of names preceding ours, and I don't think he gave the matter much attention. If I had time I would look it up for you, mother, but we must go ashore in a few moments. If I'm not mistaken, my dear lady, said Mr. Thornton, who had overheard the conversation, you will have little time or inclination for looking up acquaintances on this trip. May I ask why Mrs. Main Wearing demanded? I think, he replied maliciously, that you and Isabel will be too much occupied in cultivating the acquaintance of Mal-the-Mare to care for your best friends. How's that, Thornton? Think it will be rough, inquired Routh Main Wearing? The captain tells me the wind is freshening every moment, and will have a decidedly choppy sea before night. I'm thinking we'll have a nasty trip. In that case, perhaps mama and I will not be the only victims, said Isabel Main Wearing. I fear not, responded Mr. Thornton. Were it not for my inherent chivalry, I should turn back, but I cannot leave you ladies to meet your fate alone. Amid the general confusion of leaf-taking, Mr. Whitney turned towards Miss Carlton, saying in a low tone as he took her hand. You received cordial invitations both from yourself and Mr. Thornton to visit your home, and I feel assured of a welcome should I accept your courtesy. But pardon me, Miss Carlton, if, after so brief an acquaintance as ours, I inquire whether I might ever hope for a welcome from you other than that of a friend. The beautiful brown eyes met his own, frankly, but all the laughter and sunshine had gone out of them. They were serious, and had almost a look of pain. I am sorry, Mr. Whitney, she said simply, but it would be very unjust if I led you to hope that I could ever regard you other than as an esteemed friend. Pardon me for troubling you, he said gently. Believe me always, your friend, and forget that I ever asked for more than friendship. And releasing her hand he passed on to the others. The final adduce were spoken. Ralph Main Wearing and his son, accompanied by the attorney, went ashore, and Miss Carlton, not caring just then to meet the curious glances of her companions, walked slowly towards the forward part of the deck. She had gone but a few steps, however, when she caught sight of the familiar figure of Mr. Merrick at a little distance, in conversation with a tall, slender man with dark, piercing eyes. He was speaking rapidly in low tones, but his usual noncommittal face wore an expression of unmistakable satisfaction. Suddenly he turned and walked swiftly in Miss Carlton's direction. Their eyes met, and in response to her glance of recognition he quickly crossed to where she was standing. I have but a few seconds left, Miss Carlton, he said, a genial smile lighting up his face. But I am glad of an opportunity to wish you a pleasant trip. Are you a good sailor?" I hardly know, she answered. I have had so little experience on the sea. Why? Shall we have a stormy passage, do you think? Nothing dangerous, a little rough perhaps. But with congenial company, such as I trust you will find, and his eyes gleamed with kindly merriment, you will hardly mind that. Good-bye, Miss Carlton. Bon voyage. And if I ever in any way can serve you as a friend, do not fail to command me. And before she could reply, he had vanished in the crowd. She looked in vain for any trace of him, then turning to glance at his companion of a moment before, discovered that he had disappeared also. A moment later the great ocean liner glided majestically out of the harbor, amid prolonged cheers, and a final flutter of farewells. But she was well out upon the tossing waves, ere Miss Carlton turned from watching the receding shore to join her friends, as yet having found no solution of the problem perplexing her, nor even the meaning which she felt must be concealed in the words of the detective. They had not been out many hours before it became evident that Mr. Thornton's unfavorable predictions regarding their journey were likely to be fulfilled. The sea was decidedly choppy, and the motion of the boat anything but exhilarating. When the hour for dinner arrived, Mr. Thornton, his daughter and Miss Carlton, were the only members of their party to venture forth to the dining saloon, the others preferring to have a light repasse served in their own apartments. The captain, having discovered in Mr. Thornton an old-time friend, had ordered seats for him and his party at his own table, and the young ladies, finding their appetites rather an uncertain quantity, had plenty of opportunity for observing their fellow passengers, particularly an anglomaniac of the most pronounced type, in the person of a callow youth seated opposite them, whose monocle, exaggerated collar, and affected drawl afforded them considerable amusement. "'Winefred,' said Miss Thornton, as they were leaving the dining saloon, "'do you see that young Englishman at the farther table?' Her cousin glanced carelessly in the direction indicated, noting the fine athletic figure seated back towards them at some distance, a tired and heavy English tweed. Yes, what of him?' "'Nothing in particular, only the sight of him is such a relief, you know, after that wretched caricature at our table.'" Poor little harmless doodlet mused Winefred with a smile. His self-complacency will be short-lived whenever he meets Isabel. She will simply annihilate him with one of those glances of hers. At Miss Carlton's suggestion they went on deck, but Edith grew so rapidly ill that her cousin assisted her below to their own elegant suite of apartments, which adjoined on one side those occupied by Mrs. Mainwearing and her daughter, while on the other was the comfortable stateroom belonging to Mrs. Hogarth. Finding Mrs. Mainwearing and Isabel already reduced to a state of abject helplessness, which required the attendance of both maids as well as of the stewardess, Miss Carlton left Edith in Mrs. Hogarth's care, and wrapping herself warmly, again went on deck. The wind was increasing and she found the decks nearly deserted, but the solitude and the storm suited her mood just then, and wrapping her rug closely about her, she seated herself in a comparatively sheltered place alone with her own thoughts. As she recalled a parting interview with Mr. Whitney, another face seemed to flash before her vision, and a half-formed query, which had been persistently haunting her for the last few hours, now took definite shape and demanded a reply. What would have been the result if that other, instead of leaving without one word of farewell, had asked for the hope of something better and deeper than friendship? What would her answer have been? Even in the friendly shadow of the deepening twilight she shrank from facing the truth gradually forcing itself upon her. A solitary figure pacing the deck aroused her from her reverie. As he approached she recognized the young Englishman of whom Edith had spoken. Dressed in a warm jacket, with cap well pulled down over his eyes and hands clasped behind him, he strode the rolling deck with step as firm and free as the walking the streets of his native city. She watched him with admiration till something in his carriage reminded her of the young secretary at Fair Oaks, and in the sudden thrill of pleasure produced by that reminder there was reveal to her inner consciousness a confirmation of the truth she sought to evade. She watched the retreating figure with flashing eyes and burning cheeks. It is not true, she exclaimed to herself passionately, I do not care for him. It was only a fancy, a foolish infatuation of which thank heaven neither he nor anyone else shall ever know. But the monarch who had taken possession of her heart, call him by what name she chose, was not so easily dethroned. Meanwhile the young English stranger passed and repast, unconscious of the figure in the shadow, unconscious of the aversion with which one of his country women regarded him because of his resemblance to another. He too was vainly seeking the solution of problems which baffled him at every turn and waging an ineffectual warfare against the invisible but potent sovereign love. All that night the storm raged with increasing fury, and morning found the entire main-wearing party on the retired list as Miss Carleton expressed it. She herself was the last to succumb, but finally forced to an ignomonia's surrender she submitted to the inevitable with as good grace as possible, only stipulating that she be left entirely to herself. Towards night the storm abated slightly and weary of her own thoughts which had been anything but agreeable, and bored by the society of her companions in misery she wrapped her rug warmly about her and ventured out on deck. The air laden with salt spray seemed invigorating, and without much difficulty she found her way to her sheltered corner of the preceding evening. She had been seated but a few moments, however, when the young Englishman made his appearance, as preoccupied in unconscious of his surroundings and as free from any symptoms of discomfort as when she had last seen him. The sight of him was the signal for the return of the thoughts which had that day kept her company. She cast a wrathful glance upon the unconscious young stranger just then passing, his perfect health and evident good humor, under existing circumstances, adding to her sense of injury and exasperation. She grew ill and determined to return it once to her apartments, but found her progress against the gale slower and more difficult than she had anticipated. Dizzy in faint she had just reached the stairs when a sudden lurch threw her violently to one side. She staggered helplessly and would have fallen, but at that instant a strong arm was thrown about her and she felt herself lifted bodily. With a sigh of relief she turned her head towards her rescuer, supposing him one of the officers of the ship, only to discover to her horror that she was in the arms of the young Englishman. His face was in the shadow, but the light falling on her own face revealed her features, and at that instant she heard a smothered exclamation. Great heavens, can it be possible? Something in the tone startled her and she listened, hoping he would speak again. He did not, but she noted the tenderness with which she was borne down the stairs and put in the care of the stewardess. Again she listened eagerly for his voice, but his words were brief and in an altered tone. During the succeeding twenty-four hours in which Miss Carlton tossed in misery one thought was uppermost in her mind, to discover, if possible, the identity of the stranger who had come to her assistance. The only information obtainable, however, was that he was evidently a gentleman of wealth, traveling alone, and apparently with no acquaintance on board, with the exception of a young English officer. She determined at the earliest possible moment to meet her mysterious rescuer and thank him for his kindness, but was unable to carry her plan into immediate execution. In the meantime, she learned that he had twice inquired for her. On Sunday afternoon, their fourth day out, the storm had ceased and the weather was gradually clearing, and Miss Carlton, somewhat pale but quite herself again, came out for a promenade. She found quite a number of passengers on deck, but for some time she looked in vain for her unknown friend. At last, after several brisk turns, she saw him standing at a little distance, talking with the tall, dark-eyed man whom she had seen in conversation with Mr. Merrick. The younger man's cap was thrown back, revealing to Miss Carlton the fine profile, almost classical in its beauty, of the secretary at Faroaks. For a moment her pulse throbbed wildly. She felt a thrill of pleasure, not unmingled with a twinge of the resentment which she had been nursing for the last few days. Then she calmly walked in his direction, saying to herself, At least I will thank him for his kindness. I am no lovelorn peasant maid, wearing my heart upon my sleeve. She had nearly reached his side, though he was unaware of her presence, when the young English officer approached from the other side and slapping him familiarly upon the shoulder exclaimed, Well, main-wearing my boy, you've got your sea legs well on this trip! The tall, dark-eyed man withdrew, and Miss Carlton, utterly bewildered, turned and slowly retraced her steps. Main-wearing? What did it mean? She heard the name distinctly, and he had taken it as a matter of course, replying pleasantly and quietly, as though he had known no other name. The mystery which she had thought to solve had only deepened tenfold. She was aroused by the cheery voice of the captain. Well, well, Miss Carlton, glad to see you out. I congratulate you on your speedy recovery. How are the ladies? And how is my old friend, Thornton? They took a few turns up and down, chatting pleasantly, till Miss Carlton, looking into the face overflowing with kindness and good humor, said, Captain, I have a great favor to ask of you. Did my dear young lady, to the half of my kingdom, may I have your permission to examine the list of cabin passengers? The captain elevated his shaggy eyebrows and his eyes twinkled with merriment. Ah, anxious to learn of some particular friend is on board, I suppose. Someone was inquiring of me the other night regarding your identity. Indeed, said Miss Carlton, a world of inquiry in her eyes. Yes, Mr. Main-wearing, the gentleman conversing with Lieutenant Cohen over there. He and I both went to your assistance the other evening, but much to my regret he was quicker than I. He remarked to me after he came back on deck that he had supposed you were a stranger, but that your face looked familiar. He asked your name, and whether you were with Mr. Thornton and his daughter, stating that he had met you. Correct, I presume? Quite so, said Miss Carlton quietly. And now about that passenger list, Miss Carlton, you have my permission to examine it and I will accompany you myself. She thanked him. Are you acquainted with Mr. Main-wearing? She inquired carelessly. Never met him until this trip. On first learning his name I supposed him to be a member of your party, as he is evidently a gentleman, but I soon learned that he was alone. A few moments later the register was open for Miss Carlton's inspection, but she did not have to search long. Halfway down the first page she found, in the familiar writing of the Secretary, the name which she sought, Harold Scott Main-wearing. CHAPTER XVI Being the captain for his courtesy, Miss Carlton returned to her custom seat on deck, and since one is never more alone than when surrounded by a crowd of utter strangers, she felt at liberty to pursue her own thoughts without interruption. She could scarcely credit what her own ears had heard or her eyes had seen. Harold Scott Main-wearing? What could it mean? Could it be possible that the Secretary, having familiarized himself with the family history of the Main-wearing, was now masquerading under an assumed name for some object of his own? But she dismissed this idea at once. She had assured him at Faroaks that she believed him incapable of anything false or dishonorable, and she would abide by that belief until convinced otherwise. But if this were indeed his name, what had been his object in assuming the role of Scott the Secretary? Which was genuine and which assumed? Who could tell? As if in answer to her thoughts she saw the subject of them approaching. He was alone, and looking in her direction, and on reading the recognition in her glance, his own face lighted with a smile that banished the last shade of resentment and suspicion from her mind, albeit there was a question in her eyes which prepared him in a measure for her first words. With a smile as bright as those with which she had been accustomed to greet him at Faroaks, she extended her hand, saying slowly, Mr. Main-wearing, this is indeed a surprise. She watched him closely, but there was not the quiver of an eyelash, only a slow, inscrutable smile as he replied, Ms. Carleton, I will add to that, and say that this is the pleasantest surprise of my life. She blushed at the implied meaning of his words, and he added, I have not seen you on deck until today. Not last Friday evening, she inquired archly. His smile deepened. I did not know that it was you at that time until after I had started below. Did you recognize me? I thought I recognized your voice, and I have often wished to thank you for your kindness, but this is my first opportunity, as I have not been out since until today. Please do not mention it. Had I dreamed who it was thus braving the storm, I would have offered my assistance earlier. I have not yet recovered from my surprise on discovering the identity of my fellow passenger that evening. Indeed, laughed Ms. Carleton, my presence here is very easily explained. Only the result of one of Mrs. Mainwearing's numerous whims, as she suddenly decided upon an immediate return to England, I think, however, that the surprise was mutual. Accordingly, I suppose that mutual explanations should follow, he answered lightly, then added more seriously. Ms. Carleton, I am aware that there is much in my conduct that must seem inexplicable to you. In a few weeks everything will have been made clear, in the natural course of events, but if you will be at all interested to hear, I would greatly prefer that you should have a perfect understanding of the situation, before the facts become generally known. I should greatly appreciate such a mark of confidence, she replied. If agreeable to you, Ms. Carleton, let us pass around to the other side. It is less crowded there. My friend and I have two chairs, and as he has gone to his stateroom to do some writing, we shall be in no danger of interruption. When comfortably seated, the young man said, it is a strange story which I have to tell, but I will try not to tax your patience too severely. One week ago this afternoon, Ms. Carleton, in passing through the hall at Fair Oaks, I accidentally overheard a portion of your conversation with Mr. Whitney, as she related to him the story of the unfortunate love and death of my father, Harold Scott Mainwearing. Ms. Carleton started violently, but said nothing, and after a slight pause the speaker continued. My earliest recollections are of a home in Australia with foster parents, whose name it is unnecessary to mention, but whose care and love for me seem, as I now look back, to have equaled that bestowed by natural parents upon their own child. Not until I had reached the age of fifteen years did I ever hear of my own father. I then learned that he had given me at birth into the keeping of my foster parents, with instructions that, unless he himself should call for me, I was not even to know of his existence until within five or six years of my majority. I learned further that his action and thus placing me in the hands of others had been solely on account of deep trouble and sorrow, of which he wished me to know nothing, until I had reached the years of manhood. When giving me into their keeping he had also given them a small packet, containing a sealed letter, which was to be read by me on my twenty-first birthday, if he had not himself claimed me before that time. I was told that, while I was too young to retain any remembrance of him, he frequently visited me, and manifested the greatest devotion to his child, but as I grew older he remained away, writing occasionally to my foster father. In the last letter received from him, when I was about five years of age, he stated that he was going to Africa to make a fortune for his son. Nothing further was heard from him, until there came tidings of his death at sea, in the manner which you recently related. Of all this I, of course, knew nothing until ten years later, but what was told me at that time made a deep impression upon me. Of my mother I could learn absolutely nothing, but for my father, of whom I had no personal knowledge, and concerning whom there seemed so much that was mysterious, I felt a love and reverence almost akin to adoration, and I longed for the day to come when I could read the letter he had left from me, and learn the whole secret of that sad life. My twenty-first birthday arrived, and the mysterious little packet was placed in my hands. He contained a few valuable keepsakes and my father's letter, written out of the bitter anguish of a broken heart. He told the story of his disinheritance, with which you are familiar, but the loss of the property he cared little for in comparison with the loss of his father's love, but even that was as nothing to the sorrow which followed swiftly and which broke his heart. He stated that, because of this great sorrow, he had placed me in the hands of trusted friends, that I should be banished from the false-hearted woman who had borne me and who believed me dead, as it was his wish that neither of us should ever know of the existence of the other. Old main-wearing pause for a moment, and Miss Carlton, who had been listening with great interest, exclaimed, "'And is it possible, Mr. Main-wearing, that in all these years you have had no knowledge concerning your mother?' It is the fact, Miss Carlton, that I do not even know her name, or whether or not she is living. I only hope and pray that I may never knowingly meet her, for her heart and life must be, pardon the expression, as false and as black as hell itself.' There was a look on his face which Miss Carlton had never seen. Gradually, however, his features softened, and he continued, "'In accordance with my father's wish, expressed in the letter, that I should complete my studies in England, I sailed for that country within a few weeks of my twenty-first birthday, and while there I learned that part of my story, which is of more a special interest to all parties concerned at the present time. I had been but a few months in England when I felt a great desire to visit, incognito, the old Main-wearing estate. Accordingly, under the name by which you have known me, I arrived at the estate only to learn that the home of my father's boyhood, and of the Main-wearing's for several generations, had passed into the hands of strangers. My grandfather had died within two years of my father's marriage, and the younger son had sold the estate and gone to America. Incidentally, I was directed to an old servant of my grandfather's, who yet remained on the place, and who could give me its whole history. That servant, Miss Carleton, was old James Wilson, the father of John Wilson, Ralph Main-wearing's present valet. Ah! ejaculated Miss Carleton, her face lighting with pleasure. I have seen the trusty old fellow hundreds of times, you know. Indeed, he could give you the history of all the Main-wearing's for the last three hundred years. He gave me one very important bit of history. Harold Main-wearing replied with a smile. He told me that old Ralph Main-wearing, after the departure of his son for Australia, failed rapidly. He was slowly, but surely dying of a broken heart, and though he never mentioned the name of his elder son, it was evident that he regretted his own harshness and severity towards him. On the night before his death he suddenly gave orders for an attorney to be summoned, and was so insistent in his demand that when it was ascertained that his old solicitor, Alfred Barton, the father of the present firm of Barton and Barton, had been called out of the city. A young lawyer, Richard Hobson by name, who had formerly been an article clerk in Barton's office, was called in in his stead. A little before the hour of midnight, in the presence of his son, Hugh Main-wearing, Robert Hobson the attorney, and Alexander McPherson, an old and trusted Scotch friend, Ralph Main-wearing caused to be drawn and executed at will, completely revoking and setting aside the process of law by which Harold Scott Main-wearing had been disinherited, and restoring to him his full rights as the elder son, McPherson and the attorney, signing the will as witnesses. Miss Carleton's eyes dilated, and her breath came and went swiftly, but she spoke no word save a single quick exclamation. James Wilson the servant was also present, but in an obscure corner, and his presence seems to have been unnoticed. The next morning at five o'clock Ralph Main-wearing passed away, happy in the thought that he had at last made reparation for his injustice to his elder son. In two months the old Scotchman died, and Richard Hobson was then the sole surviving witness of the last will and testament of Ralph Maxwell Main-wearing. This was all the direct information I could obtain from Wilson, but from other sources I learned that Hugh Main-wearing was never the same after his father's death. He grew stern and taciturn, and would allow no mention of his brother's name, and within two years he had disposed of the estate and left England for ever. While a few years later tidings were received at the death of Harold Scott Main-wearing at sea, I also learned that about this time Richard Hobson suddenly rose from the position of a penilice pedophogger to that of an affluent attorney, though he was engaged in questionable speculations far more than in the practice of law. I visited the chambers of Barton and Barton, and learned through them that everything had been adjusted in accordance with the terms of the will in their possession, which disinherited the elder son, but Hugh Main-wearing's action in disposing of the estate had excited considerable comment. Having pledged them to secrecy, I disclosed my identity and related to them the story of the old servant. To my surprise, they were inclined to give the story credence, and acting upon their advice, I obtained all possible information regarding Hugh Main-wearing, and when my studies were completed sailed for America, with the express determination to secure proof and verification of the facts which I had already gathered, and to establish my claim as the legal heir of the Main-wearing estate. I was not without means to do this, as my father had accumulated considerable property during the few years he lived in Australia, and my foster parents are people of wealth. You will understand now, Miss Carlton, why I took the position of private secretary to Hugh Main-wearing. You will realize how eagerly I studied the correspondence between him and Richard Hobson, from which I learned that the latter was extorting large sums of money as the price of his silence regarding some fraudulent transaction, presumably the destruction of the will, and perhaps you can imagine my feelings on discovering one day, among Hugh Main-wearing's private papers, a memorandum to the effect that the will had never been destroyed but was still in existence and in his possession. I knew that to make any demand upon him for the document would be worse than useless, as he would never admit my claim. I must find it for myself. I searched for that will as for hidden treasure, and, Miss Carlton, I found it. Oh! she exclaimed, unable to repress her emotion. I am so glad. Do tell me how and when. I found it on the last day of Hugh Main-wearing's life, within two hours after he had signed his own last will and testament. What a strange coincidence! It was strange, and it was my discovery on that day which formed the subject of my thoughts on the following night, the night of the murder, and which kept me pacing my room until three o'clock in the morning. Did Mr. Main-wearing know of your discovery? No, I had no opportunity to see him that evening until too late, even if I had chosen to broach the subject to him at that time. Might he not have discovered in some way that you had found the will? I think not. Why do you inquire? It only occurred to me, if it might not be possible, that he had reason to think his secret had at last been discovered, and rather than face the consequences committed suicide, but it seems improbable. But to think that you are the son of the one whom I have always considered the noblest of all the Main-wearing's, and that you, and not Hugh, are the rightful heir to the old Main-wearing estate. I am more than glad, and Hugh will be glad also. He will not begrudge you one shilling or have one unkind thought towards you, though I cannot say the same for his father. Hugh is a noble-hearted fellow, said Harold warmly. He has promised me his friendship, and I believe he will stand by it. He spoke briefly of his plans, of his business in London for a few days, and when the will should have been probated in the English court of his return to America to establish his claim there. Mr. Main-wearing, said Miss Carleton after a pause, I am inexpressibly glad to learn what you have told me, and you have my sincerest wishes for your immediate success. I appreciate more than I can tell, your confidence in permitting me to be the first to know of your good fortune. May I be the first to congratulate you? He took the proffered hand, but looking into the beautiful eyes sparkling with happiness, his own face grew serious, as he replied. I thank you for your congratulations and your good wishes, Miss Carleton, but I sometimes question whether my discovery on that particular day of the will, the last link in the chain of evidence against Hugh Main-wearing, was a matter for congratulation. How is that? She inquired quickly. Do you not see that when all these facts become known, they may be used by my enemies to direct suspicion against me as the possible murderer of Hugh Main-wearing? Who would think of such a thing? She exclaimed indignantly. Ralph Main-wearing will, was his prompt reply. He might try to incite the suspicions of others against you, but he would know in his own heart that his insinuations were unfounded. I have no fear of him, said Harold with a smile. I only mention it to show that I do not anticipate upon my return to America, that my pathway will be strewn with roses. He paused a moment, then added, I had this in mind, Miss Carleton, when I asked you once whether your confidence in me were strong enough to stand a heavy strain, if necessary. She blushed slightly at the reminder, and a look of quick comprehension flashed across her face, as for an instant. She dropped her eyes before his earnest gaze. When she again looked up the luminous eyes met his own unwaveringly, as she replied, in firm, low tones, I will believe in you and trust you to the fullest extent whatever happens. I thank you more than I can express, he answered gravely. For believe me, Miss Carleton, I value your confidence in friendship far above any in every other. I did not suppose you needed any assurance of my friendship, though after your sudden departure from Fair Oaks I felt somewhat doubtful whether you cared for it. He did not reply at once, and when he did, it was evident he was repressing some strong emotion. I feel that there is an explanation due you for my manner of leaving Fair Oaks. I am aware that it had the appearance of rudeness, but I can only say that it was from necessity and not from choice. There is something more which I hope someday to tell you, Miss Carleton, but until I can speak as I wish to speak, it is best to remain silent. Meanwhile, I will trust to your friendship to pardon whatever in my conduct may seem abrupt or inexplicable. The conversation was terminated at this point by the appearance of Lieutenant Cohen, whom Harold Mainwearing introduced as an old classmate, and presently all three adjourned to the dining saloon. To Harold Mainwearing and Miss Carleton, the remainder of the voyage passed swiftly and pleasantly, and the friendship begun at Fair Oaks deepened with each succeeding day. Though no word of love passed between them, and though Miss Carleton sometimes detected on the part of her companion a studied avoidance of personal subjects, yet, while wondering slightly at his self-imposed silence, she often read in his dark eyes a language more eloquent than words, and was content to wait. It was his desire that the other members of her party should remain in ignorance of his real identity, and as the greater part of the voyage proved somewhat rough, he had little difficulty in preserving his secret. Mr. Thornton and daughter soon made their appearance and greeted the quantum secretary with unaffected cordiality. But Mr. Thornton was too deeply engrossed in renewing acquaintance with one or two old friends to pay much attention to the younger man, while Edith felt in duty bound to devote herself to the entertainment of Mrs. Mainwearing and Isabelle, a task which Miss Carleton was not at all disposed to share. Not until the last few hours of the trip, when fair weather had become an established fact and land had been sited, did Mrs. Mainwearing and her daughter appear on deck, and in the general excitement Harold Mainwearing escaped their observation. The parting between himself and Miss Carleton was necessarily brief. She gave him her address, saying, I would be delighted if you would consider yourself our guest while in London, and I hope at least that I may see you often before your return. I thank you, Miss Carleton, he replied, if present circumstances would admit of it, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to accept your invitation. But under existing conditions it is, of course, impracticable. I cannot now say how long I will remain in London, but I wish to make my stay as brief as possible, and to that end shall devote almost my entire time to business. But, he added, with a peculiar smile, I shall not repeat the offence committed at Fair Oaks. You may rest assured, I shall not return to America without seeing you, and I hope at that time to be able to speak more definitely regarding my future. There was that in his eyes as he spoke, that suffused the fair English face with lovely color, and caused a tender, wistful smile to linger about the sweet mouth long after he had left her side. He was one of the first to land, and Miss Carleton, watching from the deck, saw almost as soon as he had reached the pier, a fine-looking gentleman in the prime of life stepped quickly out from the crowd, and grasping him cordially by the hand, entered at once into earnest conversation. Most main-wearing turned towards the steamer for a parting salute, and as both gentlemen raised their hats, she recognized in the newcomer Alfred Barton, the junior member of the firm of Barton and Barton. She watched them until they disappeared in the crowd, then turning to rejoin her companions. She noted, standing at a little distance, the slender, dark-eyed individual whom she had observed on previous occasions, also watching the scene with a smile of quiet satisfaction, much like that which Mr. Merrick's face had worn at the beginning of the voyage. Less than three weeks later Harold Mainwearing entered Miss Carleton's private drawing-room in Mr. Thornton's London home. Soon after her arrival in the city she had received from him a brief note of apology, stating that unexpected business of the greatest importance would render it impossible for him to call as early as he had anticipated. Hence, this was their first meeting since the leave-taking on board the Campania. As Miss Carleton stepped forward with a cordial smile and hand extended to welcome her visitor, she was shocked at the change in his appearance. He was pale, almost taggered, and deep lines about the mouth and eyes told of some intense mental strain. She gave a low cry of astonishment, for it seemed as though years, instead of only a few weeks, had intervened since she had seen that face. Mr. Mainwearing, you have been ill, she exclaimed. No, Miss Carleton, he replied, his face lighting with a rare smile. I have been perfectly well, but loss of sleep and constant care and anxiety have told rather severely on me. Nothing more serious, I assure you. Anxiety, she repeated at the same time motioning him to a seat by her side. Surely you do not anticipate any difficulty in establishing your claim. No difficulty so far as its validity is concerned. My attorneys assure me that there can be no question as to that, with such irrefutable proofs in my possession, but some unlooked-for complications have arisen, and we have had to prepare ourselves to meet them. But I did not call to burden you with my perplexities, Miss Carleton. Tell me of yourself. I trust you have been well since I last saw you. Yes, I am usually well, said Miss Carleton, who thought she detected on the part of her visitor an avoidance of any details concerning himself. But I have been rather bored of late. Then in answer to his look of inquiry she continued, Of course, on account of Hugh Mainwearing's death, we have been living very quietly since our return. But, notwithstanding that fact, society has been paying due homage to the prospective increase of fortune and added social position of the Mainwearing's. I am not particularly fond of society in the ordinary sense of the world, you know, and I have found it exceedingly tiresome. From reports I should judge society to be very fond of yourself, he remarked with a smile. After its own fashion, she replied, smiling in return. But it becomes very monotonous. It's the same old round, you know, only that just now it bows a little lower than formally, while it mingles condolences and congratulations in the most absurd manner. One hears such a dreadful affair, so shocking, don't you know, and such delightful fortune I quite envy you, my dear, all in the same breath. I am only awaiting what society will say when the real facts become known. Harold Mainwearing made no reply, but a strange pallor overspread his already pale face, at which Miss Carlton wondered. I have thought very often of you during these past weeks, she continued, and felt quite impatient to learn how you were progressing, and your note was so brief, you know. It left so much unsaid. I fear you forget how interested I am in all that concerns yourself. No, he replied slowly, I do not forget, and I appreciate your interest in me even though I may not seem to, even though I am forced, as you say, to leave so much unsaid which I had hoped to say. Something in his manner, more than in what he said, thrilled her with a vague, undefinable sense of impending evil, and during the slight pause which followed she dreaded his next words, lest they should in some way confirm her apprehensions. He said nothing further, however, and when she spoke it was with an assumed lightness and cheerfulness which she was far from feeling. I had hoped to have the pleasure of meeting you often ere this, and my uncle and cousin would have been so glad to welcome you to their home during your stay in London, but they have just gone out of town for a few days. Ordinarily, Miss Carlton, he replied quietly, I should be so pleased to meet them, but on the present occasion as I sail to-morrow, I naturally care to see no one but yourself. To-morrow! she exclaimed, while her own cheek suddenly paled. Do you return so soon? Yes, he replied, observing her emotion, and speaking rapidly to conceal his own feelings. My business is at last completed. I have been detained longer than I expected, and I found the situation more complex than I anticipated, but I shall return well equipped for the battle. And you will win, I am sure. Tell me something regarding your plans, she added, with a wistful smile that touched her companion for more than he cared to betray. Mr. Alfred Barton goes with me to America, he said speaking cheerfully, and we have already cabled instructions to Mr. Sutherland, my New York attorney, regarding the initiatory steps. Mr. Barton and myself will be accompanied by James Wilson, the old servant who witnessed the execution of the will, Miss Carlton's eyes brightened, and also by a thoroughly competent first-class Scotland Yard officer. She gave a low exclamation. I see what a powerful witness old Wilson will make, but the detective, what will you do with him? We are going to investigate the murder of humane wearing, he said calmly. Why, surely, you cannot mean—she hesitated. You do not think that suspicion will be directed against any of the guests at Fair Oaks, do you? My dear Miss Carlton, I cannot say at present. Perhaps, he added slowly, looking steadily into her eyes. Perhaps, when all is over, suspicion will be directed against myself so unmistakably that public opinion will pronounce me guilty. I cannot believe that, she cried, and even were it so, should the whole world pronounce you guilty, I would still believe you innocent, and I think, she added quickly, that is your object in employing a detective. By finding the real murderer you will establish your own entire innocence. May God grant it, he replied, with a fervor she could not understand. I thank you, Miss Carlton, for your kind words. I shall never forget them. And, however the battle goes, I can feel there is one, at least, whose friendship and confidence are mine, can I not? Most assuredly, Mr. Mainwearing. But why do you speak as though there were a possibility of defeat or failure? I am so confident that you will win, after the story of your life that you have given me, that I am all impatient to learn the outcome of the contest. Just as having read one chapter in some thrilling romance, I am eager for the next. He smiled at her comparison. Real life as well as romance sometimes contains startling surprises, Miss Carlton. The next chapter may prove less pleasant. She looked keenly into his face for a moment, and her manner became as serious as his own. There must be something, she said, of which you have not told me. If so, I will not ask your confidence until you choose to bestow it, nor do I trust you personally, any the less. It only seemed to me, with your prospects of success, and the great wealth and enviable position so soon to become yours, there could be no unpleasant anticipations for the future. A bitter smile crossed his face as he inquired in low, tense tones, of what avail are wealth and position to one who finds an insurmountable barrier placed between himself and all that he holds most precious on earth. I fear I do not understand you, she replied. I cannot imagine any barrier surrounding you, and did they exist? My judgment of you would be that you would find some way to surmount or destroy them. There are some barriers, some fetters, he said gently, against which humanity, even at its best, is powerless. Yes, she answered, a touch of sadness in her voice, and there are sometimes sorrows and troubles in which even the closest and warmest friendship is powerless to aid or comfort. Don't allow yourself to think that of your friendship for me, he said quickly. Assured of your confidence and sympathy, I shall be ten times stronger to face whatever the future may bring. If I succeed in what I am about to undertake, I shall one day tell you all that your friendship has been worth to me. If I fail, the thought that you believe in me and trust me, while it will not be all that I could wish, may be all that I can ask. And if you should fail, she queried slowly, would you give me no opportunity to show you, and others, my confidence in you, even then? My dear Miss Carlton, he replied, in tones tremulous with suppressed feeling, much as I appreciate your kindness, I would never, now or at any future time, willingly mar your life or your happiness by asking you to share any burden which might be laid upon me. I would at least leave you to go your way in peace, while I went mine. And I, she asked reproachfully, would it contribute to my happiness, do you think, to remember the sorrow and suffering which I was not allowed to share? Could you not forget? Never! The young man sprang to his feet abruptly, his face working with emotion, and took two or three turns about the room. At last he paused, directly in front of her, and folding his arms, stood looking down into the beautiful eyes that met his own so unflinchingly. He was outwardly calm, but the smouldering fire which seemed to gleam in his dark eyes told of intense mental excitement. Miss Carleton, he said slowly, in low tones, but yet which vibrated through her whole being, you are almost cruel in your kindness. You will yet make a coward of me. I have no fear of that, she answered quietly. Yes, a coward. Instead of remaining silent as I intended, and keeping my trouble within my own breast, you will compel me in self-defense, to say that which will only give you pain to hear, thereby adding to my own suffering. Perhaps you misjudge, she replied, and her voice had a ring of pathos in it. Any word of explanation, no matter what, would be less hard for me to endure than this suspense. God knows I would make full explanation if I could, but I cannot, and I fear there is nothing I can say that will not add to your suspense. Miss Carleton, you must need no words for me, to tell you that I love you. I have loved you almost from the first day of our meeting, and whatever life may have in store for me, you, and you alone, will have my love. But, loving you as I do, could I have looked forward to the present time? Could I have for one moment have foreseen what was awaiting me? Believe me, you should never have known by word or look or any other sign of my love. He paused a moment, then continued. If that were all, I might have borne it. I could have locked my love for ever within my own heart, and suffered in silence. But the fact that you have given me some reason to believe that you were not holy and different to me, the thought that I might in time have won your love, makes the possibilities of the future a thousand times harder to bear. It is harder to forego the joys of paradise, when once you have had a glimpse within. It is to this I alluded when I spoke of the insurmountable barrier placed between myself and all that I hold holiest and best on earth. But I do not understand, she cried, her lovely color deepening, and her eyes glowing with a new light, until Harold Mainwearing confessed to himself that never had he seen her so beautiful. What barrier could ever exist between you and me? For an instant he looked at her in silence, an agony of love and longing in his eyes, then drawing himself up to his full height, he said slowly, Not until I can stand before you, free and clear from the faintest shadow of the murder of Hugh Mainwearing, will I ever ask for that most precious gift of your love? Her face blanched at the mere possibility suggested by his words. But you are innocent, she cried in swift protest, and you could prove it. Even were suspicion directed against you for a time? Even admitting that I were, the taint of suspicion is sometimes as lasting as the stain of crime itself. She arose and stood proudly facing him. Do you think I would fear suspicion to hear from your own lips that you love me, and that you are innocent would be enough for me? I would defy the whole world. He did not at once reply, and when he spoke it was slowly and reluctantly, as though each word were rung from him by torture. My dear Miss Carlton, even to you I cannot say that I am innocent. There was a moment's pause, during which she gazed at him, speechless with astonishment, a moment of intense agony to Harold Mainwearing as he watched whether her faith in him would waver. But she gave no sign, though she scanned his face, as the condemned criminal scans the document hinted him as the fateful day approaches to ascertain whether it contains his pardon or his death sentence. Understand me, he said at last, gently, unable longer to endure the terrible silence. I do not admit that I am in any way guilty, but until I am fully acquitted of any share in or knowledge of the death of Mainwearing I can make neither denial nor admission one way or the other. But you still love me? she inquired calmly. Miss Carlton, Winifred, how can you ask? You are and always will be to me the one only woman upon earth. That is sufficient, she answered, with a strange, bright smile. My faith in you is perfect, and faith and love can wait. Wait my love until when, he cried, if needful, until eternity's sunlight dispels earth's shadows. Eternity holds ample compensation for all of earth's waiting. But my darling, he said half protesting, while he folded her to his breast. You know not the risk you may be running. I cannot accept the sacrifice that may be involved. My decision is taken and it is irrevocable, she answered, with an arched smile, then added, there can be no barriers between us, Harold, for love will find a way. End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of that Mainwearing Affair This is LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. That Mainwearing Affair by A. Maynard Barber Chapter 18 An Unforeseen Foe Though nearly six weeks had elapsed since the death of the Master of Fair Oaks, and as yet no light had been shed on that mysterious event, the interest of the public mind in the affair had in no wise abated during this brief interim. On the contrary, its curiosity had been so wedded by the partial revelations of the inquest that it had eagerly followed each step of the legal proceedings, leading toward the inevitable contest over the property, ready to hail with delight the appearance of the Mainwearing Skeleton when it should step forth from its long hiding to disclose the secrets of the past. As early as possible, a petition setting forth the terms and conditions of the Last Will and Testament of Hugh Mainwearing, and praying for letters of administration in accordance therewith to be issued to William H. Whitney, the executor named in said Will, had been filed in the district court. A few days thereafter, the petition of Eleanor Houghton Mainwearing, for letters to be issued to Richard Hobson, was also filed. The hearing and the application for letters of administration occupied several days. Very little evidence was adduced, however, which had not already been given at the inquest, and in due time an order was issued by the court appointing Mr. Whitney, administrator of the estate, with instructions that the same be adjusted according to the terms of the Lost Will. From this order, Eleanor Houghton Mainwearing, through her attorney, Hobson, had appealed, and the contest had at last begun. For greater convenience during the legal proceedings, Ralph Mainwearing had closed the suburban residence, dismissing what servants were no longer needed, though still retaining the new coachman, and had removed a Hugh Mainwearing city residence, where he and his son made themselves perfectly at home, dining with Mr. Whitney at his club. Mrs. Lagrange, having been compelled to resign her position at Fair Oaks, had also removed to the city, and taken apartments in a convenient hotel until the termination of her suit. The afternoon of the second day since the opening of the case was drawing to a close, the testimony on the appellant side had been taken, and it was expected that the respondent would be heard on the following day, when an event transpired which completely overthrew all proceedings thus far, and which promised the waiting public developments as startling as could be desired. This event was none other than the filing in the district court of a document purporting to be the last will and testament of the father of the deceased Hugh Mainwearing, by the terms of which the Mainwearing estate, as it then existed, together with the bulk of his other property, passed to Harold Scott Mainwearing, an elder son who had been previously disinherited, but was by this will restored to his full rights. With this document, worn and yellow with age, was filed to petition, setting forth the claims of one Harold Scott Mainwearing, the lawful living and only son of the said Harold Scott Mainwearing named in the will, but since deceased, and sole heir of the Mainwearing estate, and praying for letters of administration to be issued to George D. Sutherland, attorney for the said lawful heir. The court adjourned amid intense excitement, just as the newsboys were crying the headlines of the evening papers. A new heir to the Mainwearing property, discovery of will secreted more than twenty-five years, millions wrongfully withheld from the rightful owner. Strangely enough, the two most interested in this unexpected turn of affairs were among the latest to learn the surprising news. Ralph Mainwearing, having felt slightly indisposed, and knowing that his side would not come up for hearing until the following day, had made himself as comfortable as possible in the elegant apartments which he had appropriated to his own use, while his son had left the courtroom at an early hour to devote the remainder of the afternoon to letter-writing. The latter glanced up from his writing and nodded pleasantly, as Mr. Whitney, pale with excitement, was ushered by the butler into the library. Mr. Mainwearing, is your father in? the attorney inquired hastily. I believe so, replied the young man, smiling broadly. The last I knew, the governor was luxuriating in his rooms upstairs. I think you will find him there now. How's the case coming on, sir? he added, as the attorney turned quickly towards the hall. Anything new developed? Yes, decidedly new. Mr. Whitney answered rather brusquely. You had better join us upstairs. And he disappeared. The young man's face grew suddenly serious, and springing from his chair he swiftly followed the retreating figure of the attorney, arriving just in time to hear the latter exclaim and reply to some question from his father. Well, sir, the storm has burst. Ralph Mainwearing was, as his son had said, luxuriating in a superb reclining chair, his eyes half closed, enjoying a fine Havana, but the attorney's words seemed to produce the effect of an electric shock. Let do, sir. What do you mean? he demanded, instantly assuming an upright position. I simply mean that what I have expected and dreaded all along has at last come to pass. Then, since it was not unexpected, it is to be presumed that you were at least prepared for it. That shyster in his designing client must, at the last moment, have exerted their inventive faculties to a remarkable degree. On the contrary, said the attorney, quietly ignoring the other sarcasm and handing copies of the evening papers to father and son, I am satisfied that neither Hobson nor his client has any part in the developments of this afternoon. A brief silence followed, during which the attorney watched the two men before him, noting the strange contrast between them, never until that moment so apparent. Young Mainwearing's boyish face grew pale as he read, and he occasionally glanced at Mr. Whitney, as though seeking in his face either confirmation or contradiction of the report. But he remained calm and self-possessed, preserving his gentlemanly bearing to the close of the interview. The face of the elder man, however, rapidly assumed an almost apoplectic hue, the vein standing out from his temples like whip-cords, and when he spoke his voice trembled with rage. He was the first to break the silence, as was an oath he flung the papers upon the floor, exclaiming, It's a lie, from beginning to end, the most preposterous fabrication of falsehood that could be devised. The will, as it is called, is nothing but a rank forgery, and the man who dares assert any claim to the estate is a damned imposter, and I'll tell him so, to his face. I examined the document very carefully, Mr. Main-wearing, said the attorney, and I shall have to admit that it certainly has every appearance of genuineness. If it is a forgery, it is an exceedingly clever one. Do you mean to tell me that you believe for one moment in this balder-dash, demanded Ralph Main-wearing, at the same time rising and striding about the room in his wrath, the utter absurdity of the thing that such a will ever existed in the first place, and that it would be secreted all these years only to be discovered just at this critical moment. It is the most transparent invention I ever heard of, and it is a disgrace to your American courts that that thing was not quashed at once. That could not very well be done, said Mr. Whitney with a quiet smile, and as the matter now stands, the only course left open to us is to prepare ourselves for a thorough investigation of the case. Investigation be damned! interrupted the other. But before he could proceed further, he was in turn interrupted by young Main-wearing. I say, Governor, he'd best cool down a bit and listen to what Mr. Whitney has to say. If this thing is a forgery, we surely can prove it so, and if it isn't, why all the bluster in the world won't help it, you know. His father faced him with a look of withering contempt. If it is a forgery, I tell you there are no ifs about it. I suppose, though, you are just full enough that, if any man made a pretense of a claim to the estate, he would simply hand it over to him, and thank him for taking it off your hands. That's just where you are, wrong, Governor. I would fight him fair and square, and he would have to prove a better claim than mine before he could win. But the point is this, don't you know? You can fight better with your head cool, and your plans well laid beforehand. The young man is right, said Mr. Whitney quickly. There is every indication that our opponent, whoever or whatever he may be, is well prepared for contesting the case. I understand he has plenty of evidence on his side, and the best of legal counsel. Evidence, I suppose, interposed Ralph Mainwearing with a sneer, in support of a document that never existed, and a man that never lived on the face of the earth, for Harold Mainwearing never had a living son. Have you seen this remarkable individual? I believe no one in this country has seen him as yet, sir. He is expected to arrive on the Umbria, which I understand is due the early part of next week. The face of the other showed slight surprise at this statement, but before he could speak, the young man inquired. I say, Mr. Whitney, what sort of man is this attorney, Sutherland? Is he another Hobson? Mr. Whitney shook his head significantly. Mr. Sutherland is one of the ablest men in his profession. I consider him a fine jurist, an eloquent pleader, and a perfect gentleman. I had some conversation with him after court adjourned, and while he, of course, stated no details, he gave me to understand that his client had a strong case. He also informed me that Barton and Barton of London had been retained in the case, and that his client would be accompanied to this country by the junior member of the firm, Alfred Barton. By Jove, that looks bad for us, ejaculated young Mainwearing, while his father exclaimed impatiently, Barton and Barton, impossible! This is mere bombast. Why, man! The Barton's father and sons have been the family solicitors of the Mainwearing's for the past fifty years. The old firm of Barton and Son's had charged of the settlement of the estate, when it passed into Humanwearing's possession at the death of his father. So I had understood, said the attorney. I have heard Mr. Mainwearing himself speak of them. And, continued the other, only a few days before sailing for America, I called at their chambers in London, and told them a few's intentions regarding my son, and received their congratulations. Now, sir. Do you mean to tell me, in the face of all this, that Barton and Barton are retained by this mushroom claimant, whoever he is? Poo! Perposterous! Mr. Whitney shook his head slowly. Mr. Sutherland is not the man to make any misstatements, or allow himself to be misinformed. All I have to say is, if those attorneys are retained in the case, it certainly looks as though our opponent must have some tenable ground in support of his claim. I am inclined to think they will make us a hard fight, but I am confident that we will win in the end. The main point is this. We must be prepared to meet them on whatever ground they may take, and after hearing their side in the proof they set up, we can easily determine our line of defence. To the deuce with your line of defence, I tell you, Whitney, there is just one point to be maintained, and by my soul it shall be maintained at any cost. And the speaker emphasised his words by bringing his clenched hand down upon a table beside him with terrific force. That de point is this. Harold Scott Mainwearing never had a living, lawful son, no such person exists, or has ever existed on the face of the earth, and I can prove what I say. Have you absolute proof of that? Mr. Whitney inquired quickly. I have, replied Ralph Mainwearing triumphantly, while his cold, calculating grey eyes glittered like burnish steel. If any man thinks I have been asleep for the past twenty-one years, he is ducidly mistaken. Mr. Whitney, since the day of that boy's birth, pointing to his son, I have had but one fixed resolve, which has been paramount to everything else, to which everything else has had to subserve. The Mainwearing estate with its millions should one day be his. Not a day has passed in which this was not uppermost in my mind, not a day in which I have not scanned the horizon in every direction to detect the least shadow likely to intervene between me and the attainment of the dearest object of my life, when the news of Harold Mainwearing's death reached England in order to guard against the possibility of a claim ever being asserted in that direction. I set myself at once to the task of finding for a certainty whether or not he had left any issue. I never rested day or night until, after infinite labour and pains, I had secured the certificate of the attendant physician to the effect that the only child of Harold Mainwearing died within an hour from its birth. Have you that certificate now? inquired the attorney. Not here. It is among my private papers at home. Cable for it at once. With the death of Harold Mainwearing's child fully established, the will would cut no figure, one way or another. That will, said Ralph Mainwearing fiercely, turning upon Mr. Whitney with an expression which the latter had never seen. Let me tell you, we'll cut no figure, one way or another, in any event. That will, remember, is a forgery, and if necessary I will prove it so. If it takes my last chilling, and the last drop of my heart's blood to do it, do you understand? The attorney understood, and was more than ever convinced in his own mind that the old will filed that day was genuine. Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Mrs. LaGrange sat alone in her apartments, awaiting the coming of Richard Hobson. It was considerably past the hour which he had set, and daylight was slowly merging into dusk. Yet enough light still remained to show the changes which the last few weeks had wrought in her face. Her features looked pinched and drawn, and a strange pallor had replaced the rich coloring of the olive skin, while her dark eyes, cold and brilliant as ever, had the look of some wild creature suddenly brought to bay. She shuddered now, as from her window. She saw the cringing former Hobson approaching the window. To think, she exclaimed to herself passionately, that that creature is the only one to whom I can go for counsel or advice. I loathe the very sight of him, fool that I was ever to place myself within his power. I thought I could use him as a tool like the rest, but it is like playing with edged tools. Yet I dare not let him go. A moment later she heard a stealthy, cat-like tread in the corridor outside, followed by a low, peculiar tap at the door, and Hobson entered. She crossed the room slowly, keeping her face in the shadow, and motioning him to a chair, seated herself opposite, watching him narrowly. You are late, she said coldly, in response to his greeting. I admitted, my lady, he replied in his usual, unctuous tones. But I naturally wished to ascertain all the facts possible regarding this new deal, and seeing Whitney nosing about on the trail, I decided to remain with an earshot and pick up what information I could secondhand. What did you learn? Nothing very definite, and yet enough, perhaps, to give us our clue until further developments. My dear lady, what do you think of this new turn of affairs? The whole thing is simply preposterous, a piece of the most consummate audacity I ever dreamed of. Ha! I thought it would strike you as particularly nervy. It is the most daring bit of invention I have seen for some time, and it must be a pretty cleverly concocted scheme and pretty well backed with the do-cats also, for I learned tonight that the heir, laying special emphasis on the word, has secured the services of Barton and Barton, and those birds are too old to be caught with chaff. Besides, you know as well as I the part that firm has taken in the main-wearing affairs. Barton and Barton? Incredible! The case is hopeless then for Ralph main-wearing. He is a fool if he expects to win. Just what I was leading up to, Whitney is no match even for this man's Sutherland, and he will be a mere child in the hands of the Bartons. Now, the question is, where do we come in? As you say, Ralph main-wearing's case is hopeless, unless—and he looked significantly at his client. I do not think I quite catch the drift of your meaning, she answers slowly. Has it not occurred to you that there are not two people in existence who can so quickly tear to shreds the scheme of this imposter as you and I? There is not a human being living outside of myself who knows the real facts concerning that will, and who could give such effective and convincing testimony regarding Harold main-wearing's son as yourself? Admitting all this, what do you propose? When Ralph main-wearing has staked his highest card and finds that the game is irrevocably lost, what will he not give at the last critical moment for assistance, such as we can then furnish him? And which course would you pursue in that event? She asked, a tinge of irony in her tone. Would you deny that such a will ever existed in face of whatever evidence may be brought forward in its support, or would you admit being party to the destruction of the will? My dear madam, I am perfectly capable of conducting this fair to our mutual satisfaction, and without running my head into any trap as you so pleasantly suggest. And right here allow me to say that it would be just as well for you, not to make those insinuations which you are so fond of throwing out at random. As I said before, no living person outside of myself, including even yourself, knows the facts regarding that will. You have your own surmises, but they are only surmises, and you head best keep them to yourself. As you know enough of me by this time to know, it will be to your interest to accept my suggestions and fall in line with my plans. Her face was in the shadow, and he did not see this scornful curl of her lip or her peculiar expression as she remarked coldly. You are only wasting words and time in your efforts to intimidate me. You have not yet made any suggestions or outlined any plans. I have asked you what you propose to do. I have not time to go into the details, but briefly stated I propose, when the right opportunity presents itself, to prove, first, that this document filed today is a forgery. If I can show conclusively that the original will was accidentally lost, or intentionally destroyed, or if I happen to have the original in my possession, under any of these conditions I gain my first point. Then, through your testimony, I shall demonstrate unequivocally a still more important point, that this so-called air is a gross imposter, that no such individual exists. And for this you expect what? For this I shall demand a handsome remuneration, to be divided of course between yourself and myself, and Ralph Mainwearing will only to gladly give the half of his kingdom for such services. And your testimony would have so much weight with Ralph Mainwearing and the Bartons, and with everyone else who has any knowledge of your London history? Hobson winced visibly, but before he could reply, she continued, You are talking the most arant foolishness. You know that those men would not allow your testimony in court. They would very quickly procure evidence to show that your word, even under oath, is worthless, that you are a liar, a perjurer, and a not-so-fast, my lady. If past histories are to be raked up, I know of one which embraces a much wider area than London alone, Melbourne, for instance, and Paris and Vienna, to say nothing of more recent events. Do your worst, and I will do mine," she replied defiantly. That is nothing to the point, however. What I have to say is this. You are a fool. If you think that you or I can ever extort money from Ralph Mainwearing, he would give no credence whatever to anything that you might say, and if once my identity were revealed to him, he would go through fire and blood rather than that one shilling of his should ever become mine. And what do you propose to do? he asked subtly. Do you intend to give up the game? Give up? Never. I would give my life first. I will yet have my revenge on the Mainwearing's, one at all, and I will repay them double, for all the insult and ignomy they have heaped upon me. That is to the point, but how will you accomplish it? said Hobson, in a more conciliatory tone. For each feared the other, and he thoroughly understood the spirit of his client. Let us be reasonable about this. You and I have too much at stake, and too many interests in common, for us to quarrel like children. If I were differently situated, I can assure you, we would then have very few interests in common, she replied bitterly. Well, supposing you were, what would you do in this case? he inquired softly, apparently taking no notice of her remark, but in reality making a mental note of it for future reckoning. Defeat Ralph Mainwearing, by all means. If necessary, produce testimony to show that this will is genuine, if he spends his last shilling to fight the case so much the better. Then, when the case is settled, and this so-called heir is master of the situation, or supposes himself so, bring suit to show that he is an imposter, and assert my own claim as the nearest living heir. Hobson whistled softly, a plan worthy of your ambition, my lady, but hardly feasible. It is one thing to assert a claim, and another to be able to establish it. Through your over-ambition you would lose in the end, for, should you succeed in dispossessing this stranger, Ralph Mainwearing would surely come forward with his claim, and you would be beaten. When I lay down arms to a Mainwearing, I will lay down my life also, she said proudly. You think so, perhaps, but let me tell you, the best course for you to pursue is to make terms, either with Ralph Mainwearing, as I first suggested, or else with this newcomer, should he prove victorious, by threatening to expose his whole scheme. Mrs. Lagrange made no reply, and Hobson, rising to leave, saw her face for the first time and paused, surprised at its strange expression. Well, he said with a look of inquiry. My thoughts were wandering just then, she said with a faint smile, and her tone was so changed, the voice scarcely seemed her own. I was wishing, just for the moment, that this stranger, whoever he may be, was in reality the one he claims to be. I would need no attorney to make terms with him then. You forget he would be a Mainwearing. Yes, but he would be the only Mainwearing and the only human being I could ever have loved, and I would have loved him better than my whole life. Love, repeated Hobson with a sneer, who would ever have thought to hear that word from your lips. But how about your son Walter, do you not love him? Him, she exclaimed passionately, the price I paid, hoping to win humane wearing. I am proud of him as my own flesh and blood, but love him, never. But you have not told me what you think of my last suggestion, he said tentatively, watching her closely. Her manner changed instantly. Rising with all her accustomed torture, and turning from him with a gesture of dismissal, she replied, come to me later, when I shall have measured lances with our new opponent, and you shall have your answer. He would have spoken, but her dismissal was final, and with darkening face he left the room.