r OF THE U N I VERS ITY Of ILLINOIS &23 H752t v.3 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/lostlinknovel03hood THE LOST LINK % Intel. BY TOM HOOD, ACIHOB OP “A GOLDEN HEABT,” ETC. ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. YOL. III. LONDON: TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18, CATHERINE ST., STRAND. 1868. ( All rights reserved.) LONDON WYMAN AND SONS, PBINTEBS, GBEAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN’S INN FIELDS, W.C. %2S H1SZL v. % CONTENTS OF VOLUME III. CHAP. PAGE 1. WHEREIN GERVASE LOSES A FRIEND AND WINS A FORTUNE 5 2. WHEREIN A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED 23 3. COMMITTED FOR TRIAL 39 4. RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE 56 5. HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED 72 6. JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE 90 7. SHATTERED HOPES 106 8. A RENT IN THE CLOUDS 124 9. WHEREIN DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. . . 139 10. THE STORY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS 158 11. WHEREIN SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED 174 12. WHEREIN MOLEWARP IS MELTED BY MISERY... 192 13. THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR 208 14. THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS 225 IV CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE 15. WHEREIN THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED... 241 16. ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED UP 263 17. IN WHICH A LITTLE PERSON CALLED POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE 273 18. WHICH WINDS UP A GOOD MANY HISTORIES ... 289 19. WHICH IS SHORT 301 THE LOST LINK. CHAPTER I. WHEREIN GERVASE LOSES A FRIEND AND WINS A FORTUNE. TJTUMN iiad come again, with her fruits and her fading leaves. The vineyards on the hills about Yieuxville were stripped of their purple clusters, and the vintage was wellnigh over. The swallows had assembled in noisy Parliament among the chimney-pots, and having duly proposed and carried the motion for an adjournment, were off in search of warmer climes. The woodland was beginning to assume that fatal brilliancy of decay which is like the hectic tinge on a III. B 6 THE LOST LINK. human cheek. Gold, crimson, and purple patches showed among the sombre greens, browns, and russets ; and whenever the wind swept the boughs, the solemn trees, bending before its majesty, shook down a largesse of leaves to swell the rustling riches of the woodland paths, with here and there a prickly chestnut-ball bursting to show the mahogany fruit within. Familiar acorns pattered down on the hat of the wanderer in coppice or glade, and bright fungi, like fairy banqueting tables, sprang up thickly under the waning shade of the avenue, or among the brown fir-needles so thickly shed in the plantations. Day by day the glowing chariot of the sun shortened its course across the heaven, and quenched its splendour earlier and yet earlier among the purple evening mists along the horizon. A broad, bright moon looked down on the stubble or the stooks, and scattered its silver on the fast-swelling streams ; for the rains came sobbing among the fading beauties of wood and wold, of hill and plain ; and the brooks grew A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 7 garrulous, running with clouded currents, in which the hungry fish darted and flashed at feed. The hedgerows were hung with tears, and a plentiful moisture frosted the silver loops and tissues of cobweb in path and woodland drive, where the winds piped while the fallen leaves danced a mocking dance like palsied age capering on the verge of the tomb. It was the time of harvesting and gar- nering. The broad-wheeled, heavy-laden wains were toiling along the country roads or narrow lanes, whose hedgerow elms snatched wisps of ripe corn from the loads that went creaking by, and decked them- selves thus with fantastic leaves as though they had gone frenzied for the loss of sweet summer, who had clothed and tended them so lovingly. In the orchards, on the bright green grass — the long rich grass ankle-deep under the trees — were lying heaps of ruddy apples — apples with golden streaks and crimson stains, blood-red cider apples and tempting russet pippins. And in the vine- b 2 8 THE LOST LINK. yards the presses were purple with the blood of a gallant knight, Sir John of the Vines, whom the French peasants were treating as barbarously as their English brethren treated Sir John Barleycorn, if the old song is to be believed. It was the season of the vintage, the time of harvesting and garnering, when a man in the ripeness of his age, if he be not as careless as the brutes that perish, falls a-thinking of the season when the reaper shall come for him, and the angels shall garner his soul. As old Mark Lane gazed from the window of his desolate chateau upon the falling leaf, the fast closing day, the silent decay of autumn, he felt by some inner prescience that the evening of his life was drawing to an end. It was as though the veil of the future were lifted for one brief instant to show him how nearly the sands in his glass had run out. There is a moment in the life of every man from which his memory dates, and when consciousness seems to have started into existence. Can you not date A PEI END LOST, A FOETUNE WON. 9 back your life to some particular minute when you awoke, as it were, to the know- ledge that you were alive — the minute which even in your childhood seemed the farthest point to which memory could retrace your life ? There is also in the lives of most men a time when the knowledge of death starts into existence in this same way. The pendulum of the gilt clock on the mantelpiece ticked off the minutes audibly, and between the click which marked one limit of its swing and that which recorded its reaching the other extremity of the arc, there had flashed an inner light upon Mark’s mind, and he knew that he was not to see the view on which he was then gazing adorned with the tender beauty of another spring. The knowledge w r as not pain, but rather peace. He sat down calmly at his writing- table, and summoned Gervase to his side in a few brief words. “ My dear Gervase,” he wrote, “ some- thing tells me I am not long for this world. I am not ill, but I have a foreknowledge 10 THE LOST LINK. that my release is at hand. My only regret in the world is that you and I must part for a while. You are the only tie that connects me with life. Let me see as much of you as may be in my short time. I shall expect you at once. — Yours affectionately, “Mark.” Gervase hardly knew what to think when he received this letter. Bartlett and he were breakfasting together, so he sought counsel of his friend, as he always did in his perplexities. “ Look here, old boy,” he said, passing the letter across the table to Bartlett, “ Just read that, and tell me what you think of it.” “ Oh, my prophetic soul, my uncle ! ” said Bartlett, laughing as he recognised the writing. But the smile died out the mo- ment he began to read, and a grave ex- pression took its place. “ What do you fancy ? Is this a mere whim?” asked Gervase. “ I think not. Some men have a sort of second- sight as far as concerns their own A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 11 death, and this letter somehow impresses me with a feeling that it is not to be trifled with.” “ But he says he is well.” “ True ; and that only confirms my belief the more. The distempered fancies of a brain influenced by disease — that idle aristo- crat, Stomach, lords it over your worker, Brain — might be disregarded, because their origin can be accounted for. But the deli- berate conclusion of a healthy mind in a healthy body, that the flame which is burning so brightly and clearly is to be extinguished almost immediately, springs from something more strange than a disordered system.” “ From what ? ” “ Ah, from what ? Who can tell ? Have you never been conscious suddenly, when you were doing or saying something amid a combination of circumstances, that you had said or done it in that very combination before — although it may be absolutely im- possible that you could really have done so ? When you argue the matter with yourself calmly, you feel that you have not actually 12 THE LOST LINK. done it, but that you have had the foreknow- ledge that you would, in some dim state of existence — a dreamland that lies between life and sleep, but is not the wild dreamland of unfettered fancy. ‘ Is all we do or seem But a dream within a dream ? ’ asks Edgar Allan Poe ; and we have all asked ourselves the same sort of question. Have we not, we inquire of our hearts, forelived our lives in some way, or foreseen their events ? It is a mystery — like every- thing else in the world except the law, and eggs and bacon, and the Daily Telegraph of a morning.” And Bartlett gave a little laugh, as if he tried to shake off the sense of gloom which his own speculations brought. “ I have felt the sensation. And you think this impression on my uncle’s mind may be in some way connected with the mysterious extra-sense ? ” “ Undoubtedly. If I were in your case, I should go at once.” “ I’ll start this afternoon. I must get you A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 13 - to take my place in a suit or two ; do you mind ? ” “Not a bit. I liope you may find that- there is no ground for our apprehensions when you reach the chateau. But I fear not — I fear not. Hand me the tobacco jar. I’ll just fill a pipe and be off, for you’ll have packing and all that sort of thing to do ; and one’s dearest friend is a nuisance when he is packing, and Ms dearest friend is ditto to him — don’t mention it, the feeling is mutual. Goodbye.” With that Bartlett departed for his own chambers, and Gervase sat down to study Bradshaw — a difficult study, for which, how- ever, it is to be presumed his acquaintance with the intricacies of briefs had in some degree the effect of preparing him. There was a new route open now, by which he was enabled to avoid his old friend, Seamouth. A patriotic body of free Britons had combined to make a line from London to the South Coast, to be entitled the London, Medworth, and Chalkham Railway. It was so admi- rably constructed with a view to the con- 14 THE LOST LINK. venience, not to say luxury, of the travelling public, with such palatial stations and such commodious carriages ; and it ran for so considerable a distance over lands which, the company had purchased at something under a thousand pounds per square foot ; that it was absolutely impossible that the share- holders could ever entertain the idea of getting any profits out of it ; on which ac- count I have ventured to call them a pa- triotic body. Glervase found that the London, Medwortli, and Chalkham Railway would suit his pur- pose admirably. From Chalkham there was a line of packets to St. Mauban, and from that town there was a railway which would convey you — almost more quickly than you could walk the distance — to Yivogne, whence he could drive to Yieuxville. So he deter- mined to go by that route, and accomplished his journey in due course of time, nothing eventful happening by the way, unless I may dignify by the name of an event his recog- nising an old friend as he looked from the carriage while travelling through Kent. The A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 15 old friend was John Marks, whose little tilt- cart was drawn up by the hedgeside, in a quiet lane. As he whizzed by, Gervase saw the old man at work on a chair, and caught a glimpse of the old woman’s cotton gown inside the vehicle. The London, Medworth, and Chalkham was not a very punctual line, but the packets were used to that, and did not mind waiting a bit ; so, though he was an hour behind time when he reached Chalkham, Gervase found the boat had not started, and went on board, had a short and good passage to St. Mauban, whence he proceeded by rail to Yivogne, and by chaise to Vieuxville. When he saw his uncle he felt that the old man was indeed fast approaching his end. A feeble- ness, which was not the feebleness of sick- ness, was apparent in his every movement, and on his face was written the unmistake- able, irrevocable sentence. “Yes, it will soon be all over, Gervase ! ’ ’ said his uncle, interpreting the look on the younger face ; “you won’t have me long with you, my boy,” — and he pressed his hand warmly. 16 THE LOST LINK. “ Oli ! I hope ” stammered out Ger- vase, and then speech failed him, and his eyes filled. “ No, no ! Don’t think to flatter me with the hope of recovery. I know it can’t be, and I don’t wish for it, though I hope I should have patience and resignation enough to carry me on, if needful. But life has not been so happy, Gervase, that I should cling to it when I am called away in God’s good time.” “ His will be done ! ” murmured Gervase, clasping the thin hand that lay in his. It was more bitter for Gervase than for Mark. The younger man, who already knew what it was to have life and its happiness narrowed around him, felt that a loneliness and a loss were coming for him which would make the world colder and darker than ever. To the old man, the news of his coming re- lease from care and sorrow was welcome. It was like the sight of a distant, peaceful home to a weary wayfarer who had wandered foot- sore and faint over long leagues of an inhos- pitable land to reach this wished-for goal at last. A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 17 “ Now, come and sit down here by the fire, opposite me,” said Mark at last, after a silence of some minutes, in which Gervase had wrestled with the sorrow that threatened to unman him. “ Come, sit down, and tell me how you have been doing, and then we can talk over my arrangements.” Gervase sat down, and told his uncle of his doings since they last met, of his increasing business at the bar, of his meeting with Mary, and of the evil news which her letter had told him. And then the old man ex- plained how he had settled his affairs, and gave Gervase the key of an old ebony cabinet in which he had deposited his will. “ There’s no knowing how soon you may want it, my boy,” he said, kindly, as Gervase hesitated to take it. In the same cabinet there is a little sealed packet, tied with some green silk twine. It contains a few relics of the past that I have not the heart myself to destroy. Burn them for me, there’s a good boy, when I’m gone.” “ I will,” said Gervase, solemnly. “ Thank you, Gervase. You’ll see that 18 THE LOST LINK. the old servants are well cared for, and carry out a few instructions I have left about some gifts and legacies among the good people about here who have been so kind and con- siderate to the eccentric Englishman who was thrown amongst them.” “ Every wish shall be attended to — but may it be many years first!” “Not many weeks, my boy. And you’ll bury me here, Gervase. I’m not unfaithful to Old England, but I will lay down my weary bones in the land of my adoption. Let me sleep in the little churchyard below. I have pointed out the exact spot to that worthy pastor, the Cure. And now I’ll go to bed, my boy. I get very weak now-a- days, and have to turn in early. Good-night — God bless you.” A shake of the hand and he was gone. Gervase sat meditating for an hour or more over the fire, before following his uncle’s example. Once in bed, he was not long in falling asleep — his journey had wearied him out, and though the excitement of his interview with his uncle had roused A FRIEND LOST, A FORTUNE AVON. 19 and sustained him for a Avhile, Avhen the strain was over tired nature asserted herself, and before his head had been on the pillow many minutes he was sleeping heavily but quietly. It seemed to him that he had barely closed his eyes — although in truth his slumbers had lasted until morning — when he heard a knock at the door. “ Come in ! ” he cried drowsily, without turning over. “ Oh, Master Gervase ! Master Gervase ! ” The voice was Joanna’s, and its tone at once drove all feeling of drowsiness away. “ What is it ? — My uncle ” — he gasped, sitting up in bed, thoroughly awake in an instant. “ Gone, sir ! ” And then Joanna sank into a chair, and sobbed as if her heart would break. Nor was Gervase ashamed to share her sorrow. “ So peaceful and happy, Master Gervase !” sobbed Joanna at last. “ As he lies there he looks like he was when I remember him first as a boy. He looks quite young again 20 THE LOST LINK. — there is not a wrinkle on his face, and but for the grey hair he might be a lad again, as he was when I recollect him— oh, so many years ago. My master ! my poor, dear master ! ” “ When did you discover this ? ” “ Only a few' minutes ago. I went in as usual with a cup of chocolate for him. He always took one the first thing in the morn- ing, poor dear. And he was sleeping so very quietly, I thought, that I wouldn’t dis- turb him, so I set the cup by his bedside. But when I came to look closer there was something happier and better than sleep in his face, and when I touched his hand it was cold — and he’s gone ” — here poor old Joanna broke down utterly again — “ Gone — my dear master ! What shall I do — what shall I do !” “ Thank heaven I was in time to see him alive,” said Gervase, as there suddenly flashed on him the thought of how nearly he had missed seeing him for the last time. The feeling made him draw a long breath, just as one does who has escaped a great danger unexpectedly. A FEIEND LOST, A FORTUNE WON. 21 “ All, it’s glad I am you came, sir, for lie’s been looking for you very anxiously.” “ He wdslied to tell me what arrangements he had made. How little I thought last night when he was telling me of them how very near he was to the brink of the grave ! — though I felt, Joanna, the moment I saw him that he ivas not to be long with us.” “ Heaven rest him, poor dear ! for he had not much rest in this world, Master Her vase.” “ Amen ! ” ***** Mark Lane was buried as he had desired, in a quiet corner of the little graveyard on the slope of the hill above Yieuxville. Gervase saw that the directions of his uncle’s will were duly carried out. The chateau was to be converted into a hospital. The old servants were to be discharged with a sufficient sum of money apiece to make them independent. Joanna was to have eighty pounds a year, and a cottage, which was to be furnished for her in France or England, as she preferred. Several small legacies and hi. c 22 THE LOST LINK. memorial gifts were named for various in- habitants of Vieuxville. The yacht was to be presented to the club which had been founded at Barsat. The rest of the pro- perty was to go to Gervase. Joanna had never liked Normandy — in- deed, nothing but her attachment to her old master would have kept her there at all, so she chose England as her future home, and asked Gervase to buy her a cottage in her native county of Kent. When Gervase returned to England he was a wealthy man. But riches were of little value to him since the happiness he desired was not purchasable with all the wealth of the Indies. “ Work ! ” said he, in answer to Bartlett’s inquiry what he meant to do now that he was a man of means — “ Work ! It’s the only thing to keep a man from thinking about himself ! ” So he settled down to his profession again as if he had to earn his bread. ( 23 ) CHAPTER II. WHEREIN A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. T HE William and Mary finished her tedious voyage, and duly discharged her cargo at the chemical works. Then she turned her blunt nose down-stream, and re- traversed the windings of the canal through the pastoral region, and through the busy region of factories, back again to the Thames. On the afternoon of the day of his arrival, the captain took boat and went over to the wharf, to report the capture of Lewis. „ He found the old man taking his tea. Betty was sitting by the fire darning her grandfather’s stockings. “ Where’s Jim ? ” asked the captain of the William and Mary, putting his head in at the c 2 24 THE LOST LINK. door of the cabin, after haying knocked, and been told to enter. “Jim’s off to the Borough for his father,” said the old man. “ What d’ye want with him ? I ’spect he’ll not be back just yet.” “ Why, ye see — I suppose you’re his grandfather, eh P — ah ! I thought so. Well, then, I ’spose I may tell you. Why, you see, I took a mate of his aboard my barge last turn, as the police was on to. I’m sorry to say he were took.” “ Took ! ” gasped the old man. “Oh, dear! oh, dear!” cried Betty, bursting into tears, like a brave little woman as she was, not ashamed to shed them for a man who had saved her life. “Yes, took ! ” said the captain. “ How ? ” asked the old man. “ That’s just what puzzles me. I’ll tell ye how it were. You see we got away all snug, and not a soul see him go aboard, nor not a soul didn’t see him all along through the populous parts, ’cos he didn’t show his nose on deck till we was right in the fields and that. Well, at last we comes to Long- A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 25 water Lock, and tliere me and my mate we gets out, along of haying to wait, and got a- talking with the other chaps as were going through the lock, as is a downright rotten old consarn. What’s the use of building a lock as won’t hardly hold one barge at a time, let alone two ? But that ain’t what I was a-saying. You see we was a-talking, when all of a sudden I looks up, and there goes Jim’s friend along o’ three chaps, as one of ’em at least was a peeler, and so was another, I fancy, from his walk, though he were in plain togs.” Betty and her father exchanged glances. “ What was he like ? ” asked the girl. “ Well, for all the world like a soger-ser- geant out o’ uniform.” “ A burlyish chap, pretty stout built ? ” “ That’s him to a ’air ! ” “ Then, grant’her, that’s him that was here asking about him.” “ Like enough. But how could he have knowed he’d gone away along the canal — it’s so out o’ the way.” “ Ah, that’s what reg’lar knocks me over,” 26 THE LOST LINK. said the skipper of the William and Mary. “ Only, ye know, them Bobbies is blessed sharp.” “ He’s a detective, he is,” said the old man. “ Ah, that’s it, then. I might ha’ guessed it. Lor’ bless ye, them ’tectives is the werry dickens. Knows everythink, they does. I wouldn’t have one o’ them arter me if I’d done anythink off the square — no, not for twenty thousand pounds, I wouldn’t.” “ They must be sharp,” said Betty ; “ why there wasn’t a soul excepting you, and me, and Jim, as knew of his going with you.” “ Well, anyhow lie’s nabbed.” “ What’s to be done, grand’ tlier ? ” “ Ah, what’s to be done ? ” “Well, if he’s anythink to you,” said the skipper, “ I’ll tell ye what’s best to be done. But it’ll cost money — lor bless ye, it’ll cost a si glit o’ money.” “Hang money,” said the old man. “Well, if that’s your views, all right. But the best thing you can do is to go right off to a lawyer, and get him defended.” A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 27 “ What lawyer ’d I best go to ? There’s yon chap up the street there as did our job in the County Court, Betty. He weren’t dear, now I come to think on it.” “ He won’t do, bless ye,” said the skipper ; “ he’s all right enough, I dare say, for those there little jobs, but you want a right-down good ’un for this. Tell ye what, there’s the chap as I employed when I was had up about a c’lision with a sailing-boat as belonged to some swell at Blackwall. He just were a clever chap — he’ll do the trick, depend on it.” “ What’s his name?” asked Betty. “Why, if ye come to that, blest if I don’t forget. ’Twas Scripsher, though. P’raps you knows Scripsher names better ’an me — just put a name to a few of ’em.” “ What sort o’names ? ” Betty asked. “ Why, Moses, and such, of course.” Betty rehearsed some of the Jewish names — Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, among others. “ ’Twain’t Jacob, and yet I fancy ’twas something of the sort — something beginning w r itli a Gl.” 28 THE LOST LINK. “ Joseph ” — suggested Betty. “ No, ’twasn’t that.” “ Jeremiah.” The skipper shook his head. Betty’s store of Biblical history had run dry. There was a pause. At last the skipper slapped his thigh, heartily. “I’ve got it,” he shouted. “Levinson.” “ There’s no G in that,” said Betty. “Well, no, there ain’t,” said the skipper, meditatively ; “ but there’s a We in it, which accounts.” This explanation quite satisfied two such learned philologists as Betty and her grand- father. The skipper gave them the best directions he could where to find the legal luminary, and then, having accomplished his mission, took his leave. “ I wonder where they’ve took him,” said Betty. “ Oh, the lawyer will be able to tell us,” said the old man. “ D’ye think so, grand’ ther ? When shall we go to see him ? ” “ Oh, I’ll be off there to-morrow.” A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 29 “ I may go with ye, mayn’t I ? ” “ Yes, if ye like, lass. I am terrible afraid we can’t do much for him, poor chap. Ye see, it’s fighting again’ the police, and that’s no easy matter. To think o’ their finding him out right away in Essex there — why it’s like ’ounds after a fox.” “ Poor fellow ! What a state o’ mind he must be in. Look here, gran’ther — wouldn’t it be a good notion to step round to our police station and see if he mightn’t be there.” “ Lor’ bless ye, not a chance. He’ll be took to prison up yonder in town somewhere. But the lawyer ’ull be able to tell us all that to-morrow.” “ When shall we go ? ” “ Don’t I tell ’ee — to-morrow ! ” “ I mean at what time ? Early, I s’pose.” “ As early as ye like ; but I don’t suppose lawyers is early risers, my dear. You see, they’re gentlemen, and have no call to be up.” “ Well, if we start from here by eight, we shan’t be too early.” 30 THE LOST LINK. “ Well, I should think not, Betty.” “ Very well ; then I’ll have breakfast ready at seven.” “ All right, my dear.” With that the old man went out on the wharf to look after some unloading, and Betty sat down to the stockings again. But I’m afraid the men who were doing the job found it hard to please the old man ; and as for the stockings, they were darned so badly, that when Betty returned to them some time afterwards in a better frame of mind, she felt the best thing to be done was to cut the work out bodily and mend them afresh. The old man and Betty were, in fact, im- patient for night, as the next best thing to the morrow morning ; and as the longest day comes to an end, and as the longest night does the same, in due course bedtime came, and dawn came, and Betty was up at the first light, preparing breakfast for herself and her grandfather. It was a nice enough breakfast — tea and a finely crisped curly rasher or two of bacon, with some poached eggs cooked to a nicety, A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 31 and looking like gold medals on cushions of white satin ; but neither Betty nor the old man did justice to the meal. As eight o’clock was striking, the pair sallied out of the wharf, and turning their faces westward, set out briskly on their journey. It was a dim, damp, drizzly morn- ing ; but they did not seem to mind that. It is astonishing how little one cares for the weather when one’s mind is occupied with affairs of moment. * * * * -Si- Lawyers’ offices are never Halls of Spark- ling Delight. I never met with anybody who cared to make them his favourite lounging-places. They are seldom savoury, and never cheerful. Law-calf is not decora- tive, and the Statutes at Large acquire a musty odour from being kept ; and however lovely a flock of sheep may be reposing in a landscape, their skins reduced to parchment are not beautiful. But if lawyers’ offices as a rule are not tempting spots to visit, that of Mr. Levinson was simply abhorrent. It was like a spider’s 82 THE LOST LINK. web in brick and mortar, for it stood at the corner of a street, with courts running round it, so that it was full of entrances and exits, whereby the legal spider’s prey might fall unnoticed into his clutches, and struggle away unobserved when that blood-sucker had finished with it. There were many entrances, I repeat, to Levinson’s office, and they were needed, for there was a continual tide of business flowing through his hands — not lucrative business, but business of one sort or another. Levin- son loved the law for the law’s sake, and was for ever undertaking “ speculative actions ” — by which I mean actions which were such valueless speculations that no man in his senses would have changed even a London, Chatham, and Dover Debenture for a hundred of them. Levinson was knoAvn and beloved to the great fraternity of thief- dom. He undertook hopeless defences for nominal sums, and worked hard for his ill- paying clients, which made him popular with the dangerous classes ; for the dangerous classes have their ideas of etiquette and pro- A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 33 - priety just as the upper classes have, and a “respectable” thief feels it to b e infra dig. not to employ a lawyer when he is in trouble, just as a respectable man of business likes to have a banking account, though his balance is the slightest possible. Weeping women, with black eyes occasion- ally, were for ever besieging our Hebrew lawyer, beseeching him to do what he could for Bill, who was “lagged for a wipe.” And the Hebrew undertook these jobs, though his charges were of necessity dwindled down to shillings. At the first glance, this accommodating system of charges seems to be a noble trait in our lawyer’s character. But if you will take- the trouble to reflect an instant, you will think differently. You see it would have been absurd of him to ask sums which he would not get, and could not get, if he sold his clients by the pound, like his tribe’ s-man of Venice. The only chance of getting paid at all was to place his prices as low as pos- sible — and then exact them rigorously. He took all he could get ; and that means, prac- 34 THE LOST LINK. tically, all liis clients had to give. What could he do more ? He stripped them to the skin, and ingenuity and avarice could go no farther. It was to this amiable ogre that Betty and her father — poor, innocent souls ! — directed their steps. “ Come in,” said Levinson, as they tapped at the door. They came in with fear and trembling, for they had a proper awe of things legal. “ Now, now — vat ’sh ye want ? ” asked Levinson, for it was a busy day with him. The old wharfman explained. “Va’antsh a friend defended? Who’sh goin 5 to pay ? ” “ I am, sir — as far as I’m able.” “ Yat’sli ye got to pay with ? ” The old man explained that he had saved up a little money ; that he was part proprie- tor of certain barges, and owner of a wharf. It was astonishing how rapidly Levinson smoothed down. All the corrugations that made him look like a sick vulture, as he sat perched on his high stool, disappeared as he A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 35 hopped down and offered the old man and Betty chairs. “Aha, ah! ah!” he chuckled. “Now you meansh bishnish. Take a share — there, ma tear — take a share ; and ve’ll shee vat it’sh all about.” The two poor, frightened foolish folk sat down with a feeling of awe, and hung trem- bling on the lips of this great legal luminary. Levinson felt that he had got a prey worth plucking, so he was civility itself. By some blessed chance he had that day to discount a bill for a soft-headed ensign who had fallen into his clutches ; and there were, besides an “ old master ” or two and some boxes of real (British) cigars, a few dozen of wine in the office. One bottle more or less wouldn’t count. He would open one for these new clients, and they should drink of it — but lie wouldn’t. Oh, dear, no. He was too shrewd for that. “Vere’sh yer friend?” he asked, as he poured out a glass of the slow poison, and placed it beside the old man. “ Took up.” 36 THE LOST LINK. “ Alia — in cushtody. But vere ish he ? ” “We thought you could tell us, sir.” “ Blesh me — blesli me ! Yy, anybody’ d think you believed ash I knowned everythin’. But I can find out, I dareshay. It’ll cosht money — it’ll cosht money, ma tear ; but it’sh to be done if it’sh va’ anted.” The old man declared himself prepared to spend his last shilling. “Very goot. Dat’sh handsome, I slivare! Yell, veil, ve’ll sliee. How vasli he took ? ” The old man related the story of Lewis’s capture, and the name of the detective who had taken him. “ Molevarp ! Oh, I knowsli him very veil — very veil. I’ll find it out. But it vill cosht money — cosht money. Yat money have ye got vith yer ? ” The old man had brought twenty pounds, in case of accidents. “Yery veil; give it me. It will do to begin with. Oh, I’ll give you a resheipt.” He fancied the old man hesitated ; and so he did, but not because he mistrusted the law- yer. He was taken aback at the money it A LAWYER IS EMPLOYED. 37 was going to cost, for lie doubted if his means would be sufficient. So the four five-pound notes were handed over, and Levinson clutched them fondly, rustling and rumpling them in his hands, — toying with them greedily. He was oil itself after this. He would procure the best counsel, and spare no ex- pense. Oh, he’d advance any further sums wanted out of his own pocket. Nothing should be spared to make the defence strong. The old man and Betty went away in high spirits. They fully believed that Levin- son was infallible, and that at a word from him the Bench ■ of Judges would acquit Lewis. For Levinson had so craftily ex- plained what his defence was to be, and what course he should adopt, that, while these simple folks felt their opinion of the purity of English justice somewhat lowered, they had the fullest confidence in their ultimate success in liberating Lewis. As they went away, Betty begged the lawyer to let her know where Lewis was iii. D 38 THE LOST LINK. as soon as he had found out ; and Levinson promptly promised, for he saw a six-and- eightpence additional in the notion ; and though he had pocketed twenty pounds in crisp Bank of England notes, he was too shrewd to neglect a modest six-and-eight- pence. ( 39 ) CHAPTER III. COMMITTED FOB TRIAL. T EVINSON was a shrewd man of business, and lost no time in seeking for his client. He had no great difficulty in finding him. His modus operandi was simple enough. He went straight to Molewarp and asked him where Lewis was, telling him why he wanted to know. He and Molewarp had known, if not exactly respected, each other for years, and in matters of business were quite ready to assist one another. The de- tective at once told the lawyer what he wanted to know, and even went so far as to recommend him to make sure of the money before he undertook the case. Levinson candidly explained that the expenses were guaranteed, and stated by whom, so that D 2 40 THE LOST LINK. Molewarp found his opinion of the old wharfman’s complicity in Lewis’s escape confirmed. Molewarp had called upon Mrs. Gafly, and had paid that worthy woman the balance of Lewis’s account. He wanted her testimony in behalf of the prosecution, and so wished to conciliate her in every possible way. She was pleased enough to get her money, and congratulated the detective on his capture, the accidental nature of which he did not think it necessary to explain to her. “ Well, you are a sharp chap, Moley, and no mistake about it ! To think o’ your run- ning him down that far away from town. What’ll he get?” “ Why, there’s no saying exactly, — you see, I have two or three scores against my gentleman. One of ’em I can’t go into, ’cause I’ve lost sight o’ the principal wit- nesses — bigamy that was. But there’s breaking out o’ prison and burglary any- how ! ” “ Lor, what a radical he must be, to be sure ! ” COMMITTED FOE TEIAL. 41 “ I shall want your evidence, Mrs. G. ! ” “ Whatever for, Moley ? ” “ Why, you can swear to that handkercher I showed you of his, can’t ye ? ” “ To be sure I can. Ain’t I got some of the fellows of it ? ” “ Have you ? By Jove, that’s lucky ! Look ’em out sharp, there’s a good old gal.” Mrs. Gaffy explained that no looking-out was required. The handkerchiefs were rather good ones, and she had adopted them for her Sunday’s best — a proceeding which had aided in preserving them. For Mrs. Gaffy was a zealous church-goer, knowing that there were benefits to be derived from the profession. Every Sunday, twice a day, she was to be seen in one of the most con- spicuous of the free seats in her parochial establishment. She was attired in the most respectable weeds, and carried a little black prayer-book, and a neatly-folded clean pocket- handkerchief, of neither of which articles she ever made the slightest use — they were for show merely. Armed with these, she would 42 THE LOST LIKE. go through her devotions with intense pro- priety, and sit out the sermon afterwards with exemplary patience, flapping her hands and nodding her head at the affecting pas- sages with a fervour which not even sleep could affect, for she had a wonderful knack of sleeping without becoming so far oblivious as to omit these signals of attention. Alto- gether she was considered by the vicar a very worthy and pious person, and she in- variably dropped in for any little benefits connected with the church charities. She knew, therefore, where to put her hand on the required handkerchiefs at once. They were in the top corner drawer of her chest of drawers, along with the black prayer book, her green cotton gloves, and her best fall. Molewarp’s plan was to proceed against Lewis first of all for the burglary, and to produce the evidence of his escape from Dartmoor afterwards. He explained his intentions to Mrs. Gaffy, and told her he should want her to swear to Lewis as her lodger, and identify the pocket-handkerchief produced by Molewarp as his, adding weight COMMITTED FOE TEIAL 43 to the identification by showing one or two of the handkerchiefs left with her by her lodger when he disappeared. Molewarp’s object in adopting this line was of course his own glorification as an acute and active officer. He had his man safe enough as an escaped convict. But to have gone into that charge would have been to show that Lewis had given him the slip for many years in spite of his attempts to capture him ; whereas if he brought him up for the burglary, which had been committed comparatively recently, there -would be all the credit of his pursuit and capture, with additional kudos for recognising an old of- fender after the lapse of a long time. I have no doubt if Molewarp could have found Mrs. Bellisham, he would have tried to get up a case of bigamy against his pri- soner too. Levinson having ascertained Lewis’s whereabouts, at once visited him, and told him that he was employed to defend him. Lewis guessed at once who was the friend that had taken this interest in him. 44 THE LOST LINK. “ It’s no use, sir ! I’d rather not let the old man waste his money on me.” “ Come, come ! Yat, ye ain’t a-goin’ to give up ? ” said the lawyer, rather startled to find his chance of a good stroke of busi- ness knocked on the head by opposition in this unexpected quarter. Lewis told him that he felt it was useless to struggle against Molewarp, who had so much the advantage of him. It would be better to plead guilty, and have done with, it at once. Levinson protested strongly. What was the use of the law at all, if it wasn’t to get men off when cases were strong against them ? An innocent man, as he candidly and ingenuously pointed out, ought to have no difficulty in getting off ; it was for the guilty man that the law was useful. Lewis declared that he was innocent enough, and therefore, according to Levin- son’s own showing, stood in no need of legal aid. This rather offended Levinson, who de- clared that “ it was all verv well for fellows «/ to protest they were innocent, and that sort COMMITTED FOB TRIAL. 45 ' of tiling, but that a client ought not to come that sort of dodge with his legal adviser.” It was useless, therefore, for Lewis to insist on innocence, for the lawyer evidently be- lieved that that virtue did not exist, except as a legal fiction — a title to be won by a clever defence. Hope is strong while life remains, and so, after a while, Lewis began to listen to the specious utterances of the Jew. There might be some loophole, he argued, by which he could escape. If he had been condemned when he was innocent, why might he not be acquitted when he was, to some extent, guilty, for he had certainly broken out of prison ? The lawyer did not scruple to tell his client that he had undertaken his defence for a mere nominal sum, and that he had the fullest confidence in his ability to secure his acquittal. It would be worse than folly to refuse such a chance, to say nothing of the pain he would cause his worthy old friend, who would lose his money all the same, but without the gratification of having benefited Lewis. Lewis was not obstinate, nor was he givea 46 THE LOST LINK. to despairing, so lie finally gave up liis posi- tion, and agreed to avail himself of Levin- son’s services. The two laid their heads to- gether to consider what was the best course to pursue in the defence. Lewis supplied all the facts he could, and Levinson supplied the law, and after a long consultation they agreed that under all circumstances it would be best for Lewis to reserve his defence, and allow himself to be committed, and then they would have ample time to make their case as strong as possible without allowing the opposite side to see the course they in- tended to take. This line was bv no means €/ injudicious, but it is only honest to admit that Levinson was not altogether disin- terested in proposing it. He had an eye to business, and saw his bill benefited by the arrangement. It was with an eye to this important con- sideration that the acute Hebrew kept his promise to Betty, and despatched a letter informing her of Lewis’s whereabouts. You may be sure Betty and her grand- father lost no time in going to see him. COMMITTED FOR TRIAL. 47 Levinson accompanied them, as he suggested in his letter that he should, for two reasons, one expressed and the other concealed. The latter was the simple reason that it would enable him to charge for a consultation, the former that he might perhaps facilitate mat- ters for them with regard to their being allowed to see the prisoner. Poor Lewis ! He could not repress a blush, or shake off the feeling of humiliation when his friends visited him. The prison- stain clings to a man terribly, and, if it blights his career among his fellow-men, blights his self-respect no less. “It’s very good of you to come,” he said, “ very good of you to help a poor fellow in trouble.” The old man shook him warmly by the hand, and Betty gave a little gasp or two to try and prevent herself from crying. “ It’s all right, Lewis, old fellow,” said the old man, with an effort to be cheery ; “ this gentleman here, he’s one of the best lawyers in London, and he’ll put it all right, bless you.” 48 THE LOST LINK. <£ Easier said than done, friend. I almost despair of my own luck. Fortune has been against me all my life. I was honest ” — here his voice rose a little, and he drew him- self up, as if he were protesting against Fate and the world — “ I was honest, and served my master well. And what was the reward ? I have had my good name blasted. I have been driven to do acts for which I blush. I have led the life of a dog. A dog ! Say, rather, of the miserable prey which the dog hunts down, unwearyingly, pitilessly. I have not deserved it — indeed I have not ! Let come what will of the trial, I want you, my two kind friends, to hear this and believe it.” Levinson was quite charmed with the solemnity of his client’s manner. He did not believe him, because he never believed in anybody’s innocence, but he looked at the protest as * an artistic performance, and cal- culated its effect on a Jury. “ He ! he ! ” chuckled he, “ S’lielp me, if you vash to do that in Court, if you vouldn’t impresh the Jury.” COMMITTED FOR TRIAL. 49 Lewis winced. He saw the lawyer thought he was acting. But a glance at Betty and her grandfather reassured him. There was trust and belief in their faces ; and, after all, what did it matter to him what the lawyer thought ? He was too sadly accustomed to being disbelieved and set down as guilty to care for the opinion of one stranger more or less. But he wished the old man and Betty to know him in his true character, and it comforted him to know that they believed him innocent. Still the lawyer’s remark jarred upon him, and he did not care to say more in his presence. He changed the subject. “I’ve lost poor old Rough.” “ No ! he came to the wharf last night,” said Betty. “ He was looking terribly thin and wretched, as if he had been wandering about in a state of starvation, but we gave him a good meal. He sits by the fire watching the door, as if he expected to see you come in every minute.” “ Poor old boy ! I’m glad he’s all right. I’ve thought on him oftener than you’d sup- 50 THE LOST LINK. pose I should with all these troubles of my own. We have been fast friends and in- separable companions these many years.” “ Couldn’t he give some evidence in your favour, then ? ” asked Levinson, who was sharp enough in his way, and never missed a point that might tell. Lewis laughed. “ Aye, that he could. But, unfortunately, he can’t speak ! ” “ Yat ? Ish he dumb ? ” “ He’s a dog ; that’s all ! ” said Lewis. “Pah!” said the lawyer in disgust. He could not understand a man making a fuss about a dog under such circumstances. “ He’s been my only friend, sir,” explained Lewis, “ and I can’t be so ungrateful as to forget him.” But the lawyer was not to be brought to appreciate a man’s affection for his dog. Why, he got nothing out of his friendship for the dog; and friendship, as Levinson held, was a thing a man ought to turn to profit. What was the use of a friend who couldn’t even speak to character ? COMMITTED TOR TRIAL. 51 “ If ye va’ants to talk about bishnesli, talk avay and look sharp,” said Levinson : “ ma time’s precious, and I’ve clients to meet vith. Can’t come here to talk about dogsli. Tishn’t bisbnisli — tishn’t bishnisli, ye know.” The old man was a little alarmed at the lawyer’s irritability, and endeavoured to pacify him. “ If so be as you want a friend to speak for Lewis’s character, you can come to me, sir. Didn’t he save my Betty’s life here, and helped me at the wharf?” “All right — all right, very good!” said Levinson. “ But, ma tear shir, ye forgetsh that Molevarp knowsh as ye helped him to get away ! You vash aidin’ and abettin’ — you vash helpin’ an escaped convic’ to evade justice. It vouldn’t do him much good for you to speak for him. Oh, no ! oh, no ! ” And the acute practitioner shook his head very knowingly. “ Don’t you know any one as can do it for you, Lewis ? ” asked the old man, who seemed to think that Levinson really wanted lipraiw '*** 52 THE LOST LINK. witnesses to character, and was quite earnest and troubled about it. “ Pali ! lie can get some of the Dartmoor peoplesh to speak for him, eli? be, lie!” chuckled the lawyer. “Ve don’t va’ant vitneshes to character. No, no ! ve must try something better than that ! Leave it to me, ma tear, leave it to me ! ” “We have determined to reserve the defence before the Magistrate. I shall be committed for trial, and then there will be time to get up the defence. At present we really don’t know — at all events, I don’t — what I am charged with,” said Lewis to Betty. “ By this plan we see what they’re at, without showing our line.” “ And what happens then ? ” asked Betty. “ Why, I shall be tried by a jury when the sessions or assizes, or whatever they are, come on.” “ Will they let you out till then ? ” “ Oh, no ! I shall be in gaol. But I’m used to that. It was a terrible feeling at first, Betty, but a man gets used to it before long. As for me, it’s not much use for me COMMITTED FOE TEIAL. 53 to mind about it, for I’m afraid I have a poor chance of any other home for many years.” “ Oh, it’s a shame,” said Betty, “ it’s a shame, that it is, for a man to be put in prison for nothing ! ” Levinson smiled at her credulity, but it comforted poor Lewis to see that she and the old man were assured of his innocence. “ There is no help for it, Betty.” “ Oh, but they can’t be so wicked as to send you to prison now — you mustn’t think they will, or it will make you give up.” “ Not I ! I did think of giving in till the other day. It has been such a long fight, and they have hunted me so hard. But now I have made up my mind, for your sake as much as my own, to fight it to the death. Your kindness, my good friends, has given me courage. You are too, too generous,” said Lewis, turning from Betty to the old man, and grasping his hand warmly. “ I should be ashamed of myself if I didn’t do all I could for one as saved our Betty.” But here Levinson interfered. He did not hi. E 54 THE LOST LINK. appreciate sentiment, except as a thing to be bought of a barrister when needed to impress a Jury. So he brought the interview to a termination by declaring that he should be ruined if they kept him there all day talking about things that had nothing to do with the case. So Lewis and his friends separated, and Betty and the old man returned home, while Levinson went back to his spider’s web, to prepare snares for fresh prey, and to enter up his charges against the old man for at- tendance, consultation, letters and advice, and those items generally which are artfully devised to swell a lawyer’s bill. In due course of time Lewis was brought before the magistrate on the charge of bur- glary ; and Molewarp having produced his evidence, was committed for trial, Levin- son telling the worthy on the Bench that he felt it would be mere waste of time to put in any defence, as he felt his worship would commit. And his worship did com- mit, and Lewis was removed in the van. He caught a glimpse of Betty and the old COMMITTED FOR TRIAL. 55 man as he entered it, and was locked into his cell. Levinson lost no time in preparing his brief, and determined to retain counsel of some eminence, for he felt such a course would reflect credit on him, and the old man was able and willing to pay. ( 56 ) CHAPTER IV. RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. “ TTAVE you lunched, young ’un ? ” asked Bartlett, meeting Gervase in Pump Court. “No; I’d forgotten all about it. Where are you going ? ” “ I have invested a portion of my earnings, Mr. Lane, in the purchase of some brawn which looked very tempting at Prosser’s, and if you’re a good boy you shall have some.” “ Oh, then, that is the meaning of the paper parcel, eh ? ” “ What superhuman sagacity — he actually guessed it because the paper wasn’t at all greasy ! This comes of being a rising bar- rister,” said Bartlett, laughing. “I respect grey hairs, Bartlett; and I RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 57 observe several in your whiskers, otherwise I should punch your head.” “And give employment, in a case of as- sault and battery, to the gentlemen of the long robe, as you literary gents are in the habit of calling lawyers.” “ Literary gent yourself ! Who wrote that notice of Wliat’s-his-name on International Law in the last Westminster ? ” “ Oh, you twigged it, did you, young ’un ? ” “ Of course. Hadn’t I heard you express exactly the same opinions ? What on earth ever induced you to study international law?” “ Well, I don’t know. I used to read pretty extensively before I had to look after a young fellow of the name of Lane. How, he’s such a deal of trouble, I never get time to read.” “You’re a humbug, B. You never knew any law at all until I taught you ; and if you’re cheeky, I’ll do a slashing notice of that feeble paper of yours in the Westminster for the Whinger. So look out.” “Do you still write for that ? ” 58 THE LOST LINK. “ Yes, sometimes. Jack Ormond is tlie editor now, and he has asked me to stick by him.” “ How is it doing ? ” “ Pretty well, I believe. He talks of it most sanguinely, and seems to get well paid. They don’t pay their contributors badly either.” “ What, does a gentleman of independent means, like Gervase Lane, Esq., condescend to accept a small screw for literary work ? ” “ I believe you. Why, it wouldn’t be honest to work for nothing. It would be unfair to men who have to live by their pens. What would you say to a fellow who took briefs for nothing ? ” “ That’s a practical view, Gervase. Upon my word, it did not occur to me. Of course it would be unfair to lower the market in that style.” By this time the two had reached Bartlett’s chambers. Bartlett opened the door and let himself and Gervase in. “ I’ll sport the oak while we’re at luncheon, for fear of attorneys,” said he, RETAINED FOE THE DEFENCE. 59 laughing, as he began to lay the table for lunch. Where’s your clerk ? ” asked Gervase. “ Gone home ill — either from over-study of Blackstone, which is the only light litera- ture I allow him, or from over-eating. I have observed he is very fond of pastry — the dough seems to have flown to his complexion. Here, make yourself useful. There’s a dish ; put the brawn out.” Gervase took the parcel, and began to open the paper. It was a portion of the Times supplement, and as he was unfolding it, his attention was arrested by a well- known name. He paused to read. “ Hullo ! ” said Bartlett, turning round and seeing him regarding the scrap of paper so attentively. “ I say, has some audacious wretch had the impudence to wrap up brawn in the Weekly Whinger ? Have they greased one of our smartest-written articles ? If so, farewell, a long farewell to the prosperity of Prosser ! The Temple shall cease to deal with him to a man.” Gervase burst out laughing. GO THE LOST LINE. “ I say, Bartlett, what do you tliink ? ” “ I never think more than I can help — it only confuses one.” “ You remember Mrs. Bellisham, old boy ? ” “ Yes, to be sure. What of her? ” “ Why, she’s married.” “ Nonsense.” “ If you mean on her part, decidedly so.” “ Who’s the happy man ? ” “ Somebody of the name of Flossett.” “ Flossett — Flossett. Let me see.” Ger- vase handed him the paper. “ Yes, by Jove, I know him, Gervase. He was the agent of some property that I held a brief about some years since. He’s a queer old stick — a regular tuft-hunter and toady. He was a sort of lawyer. £ Old Formality ’ we used to call him, he was so dead on technicalities. Well, I wish him joy.” “ Is he an old man ? ” “ Bather. He was a widower ; but I don’t remember if he had a family.” “Rich?” “ He ought to be, for he had the charge of RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. Cl a good many fine estates. I fancy lie lias given up liis business to liis partner and re- tired now.” “ I hope lie’ll tyrannise over lier as she used to tyrannise over poor Mary.” “ That, I am afraid, is not likely. It’s more likely to be the other way.” “ Then he will have a pleasant time of it. But I wonder what Mary does under these circumstances.” “ Lives with them, I expect.” “ I suppose so. Poor girl, it must be miserable work. Fancy her being dependent on this old fellow.” “ It may be all for the best, my boy. She may at last be driven to reconsider her de- cision, and let you see what you can do to release her.” “ Too good to be probable. Heiglio ! Have you any tobacco, B. ? ” “ By Jove, I’ve forgotten it. It was all that brawn ! I went out on purpose for the tobacco, but the brawn put it out of my head.” “ Send your clerk out for some.” 62 THE LOST LINK. “ What a chap it is. Didn’t I tell you my clerk was laid up with Blackstone on the brain.” “ Well, I want a pipe. Come over to my rooms and have a smoke.” “ Agreeable. But I’ll put away the brawn first. Mrs. Cliiffen is an estimable woman, but I have an idea that we have both a pre- dilection for brawn. There, now that’s put the temptation out of her way ; so come along.” The friends crossed over to Gervase’s rooms. “Anybody been?” asked Gervase of his lad. “Yes, sir. Some one from Levinson’s, with a brief.” “Acute lad, that!” said Bartlett; “I suppose, whenever you come in with a friend, he does that ! But you should tell him to name a more respectable attorney.” “ Don’t be a donkey, B. Look here ! That’s the real article — perhaps you don’t know a brief when you sec it.” “ None of your impudence, young ’un. 1 RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 63 held briefs before you had cut your wisdom teeth.” “ I hope you had cut yours, then.” “ That’s a mild form of tu quoque. Don’t repeat the offence. But, joking apart, what has that Hebrew scoundrel sent you? ” “A brief in the case of Beg. v. Griffin — instructions for the defence.” “ I have no doubt you’ll find your client a very respectable person, and guiltless as the babe unborn. Levinson has a way of picking- up innocent and injured clients. I had the honour of getting a sentence of transporta- tion for life for one of his lambs last assizes at Kingston.” “ Oh, it’s a burglary case, I see,” said Gervase, tossing the brief away on to his working table. “ Here’s the baccy — fill — smoke — and behave yourself. Will you have some beer ? ” “ I will. Thank you.” So the pair smoked their afternoon pipe, after which ceremony they separated, Bartlett having promised to dine with his mother and sisters at Twickenham. •64 THE LOST LINK. When lie was gone, Gervase fell a-thinking of Mary, which soon produced so much depression of spirits that he was fain to snatch up the brief he had flung aside, and plunge headlong into its intricacies, to divert his thoughts from the melancholy channel into which they had fallen. As he read, he gradually became absorbed in his work. The instructions were not very promising, and Gervase shook his head as he perused them. The whole strength of the defence rested on the testimony of one wit- ness, who, so his client instructed the attor- ney, would be able to prove an alibi most distinctly. This witness, it was stated, had been advertised for in all the principal papers for several weeks without success ; so that his production was despaired of. The evi- dence against the prisoner was purely cir- cumstantial, but the chain of events was pretty strong and conclusive. “ If they can’t make out better instruc- tions than those, I don’t think there is the slightest doubt about the result of the trial,” said Gervase to himself. “ I wonder RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 65. if tliat material witness is a fabrication of the prisoner’s, or is he being kept out of the way by the police ? I see Molewarp is the' principal witness against him, and is likely to produce evidence of his having escaped from Dartmoor while under sentence for em- bezzlement. Molewarp’s a sharp and not very scrupulous fellow. He may be keeping this witness back.” Gervase turned once more to that part of the brief which referred to the witness. “ He’s a hawker, or something of that sort. It’s a class that is not very likely to^ study the papers, so that one might adver- tise for ever without doing any good. It may be true — and besides, it never struck me, but chances arp, Molewarp does not know the line of defence, as Levinson re- served it when his man was committed. I wish Levinson was not such an utter scamp — he’s enough to damage the most innocent client; and when the case is as ticklish as this, he’s an almost fatal impediment. I should like to consult him, too, if he were not such a black sheep. Let’s see- 66 THE LOST LINK. — time is getting short, and if this witness is to be found it must be done soon. Bart- lett would tell me, perhaps, I have no busi- ness to trouble my head about the matter — that I ought simply to go by my instructions. But the very difficulties of a case like this — the chances against me being so great — make me inclined to go into it more keenly, out of mere enterprise. A winning game is satisfactory enough, but give me a losing one to bring out a fellow’s muscle.” After meditating for some in this strain, Gervase remembered that he had promised his friend Ormond to call at his chambers in Gray’s Inn, and go to the theatre with him. So he had to lay aside the brief, and make all haste he could to get dressed ; for it was the first night of a new comedy, and he and Ormond were to dine together at the Athenaeum, and then go to the theatre, where they had stalls. In this way the difficulties of the case of “Reg. v. Griffin” were dismissed from his mind, and he thought no more about it that night. But the next morning, when RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 67 lie got up to breakfast, liis eye rested on the brief, and all its difficulties came back to him again. “ Confound the thing — what a strange affair it is ! I can’t get it out of my head somehow. I’ll go and see what Bartlett says to it after breakfast.” The case seemed to haunt Gervase. It worried him so that he did not do the usual justice to his breakfast. He pushed away his plate after his third kidney, and did not take his second cup of chocolate. So he lit his pipe, and set out with the intention of going across to Bartlett’s. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he encountered Molewarp, who had come to have a word or two with Mrs. Gaffy. “ Good morning, Mr. Lane,” said the de- tective, drawing himself up, and giving a semi-military salute. “ Good morning, Mr. Molewarp. A fine day for the time of year.” “ It is so, sir.” Here there was a pause. Gervase, instead of going on, stopped ; and of course the 68 THE LOST LINK. detective stopped too, seeing that after the ordinary greeting Mr. Lane did not pass on. “ I have just been reading about you, Molewarp,” he said at last. “ Ah, sir ; them papers, I suppose. It’s about taking that cobbler that killed his wife, I suppose, sir ? ” “No, it was not in the papers ; it was in a brief.” “You are retained in that case, sir. For the Crown, I hope, sir, if I may make so bold.” “ No, it’s not the murder case. I saw the report of that, though.” “ What case is it, sir, if I may ask ? ” “A charge of burglary ” “ Oh, that chap Griffin, or Lewis, or what- ever he calls himself. I suppose you’re for the Crown, sir ? ” “ No, I’m not.” “ I am sorry to hear it, sir, for I should have liked to have you our side. Besides, sir, you’ll excuse me, but it ain’t a case as you can get any credit from. It’s dead again RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 69 him as safe as coffin-nails. Nothing can’t save him.” “ You’re not very encouraging, Mr. Mole- warp.” “ Oh, sir, it’s all business between you and me. You see, I know this chap Griffin well. He was an old prisoner of mine. I took him long ago for robbing his employer. He’s a sharp chap, too, I can tell you — one of the deepest I have ever had to do with, and I’ve had a-many in my time. But, lor, I’ve got him fast on both scores. He can’t wriggle out — and you know it, sir, I’m cer- tain. It’s no case. I do wish you was our side, because, having the honour of knowing you, I could put you up to a good deal ; and, besides, I shall be sorry to see you lose, sir.” “ Come, I’m not going to give in with- out a fight, Mr. Molewarp. I shall cross- examine you severely, I can promise.” And Gervase laughed. “ Don’t you ask me to tell all I know about him, sir, or I might tell you a few things as ain’t in the brief, and wouldn’t go for cba- F hi. 70 THE LOST LINK. racter. Why, bless you, burglary ain’t the worst. He’s bigamy, too, he is.” “ Indeed ! He’s a bad lot, according to your account.” “ Look here, Mr. Lane, sir ; you and me are friends, if I may be so bold, and so I’ll tell you, because it won’t be brought up in the trial, only it’ll show you what a chap he is. When I was looking for him after he got out of Dartmoor, I’m blest if I didn’t find him a-living like a fighting-cock, with lots of money in the bank, and a villa and servants. Oh, he was a knight or a barrow- knight, or something of that sort, then. But I spoilt his little game. Would you believe it, sir, he had the owdaciousness to make love to a young lady and marry her, and his wife living in foreign parts ? But some- how he got the office that I was after him, and on the very day he was mar- ried, as they was coming from church, he bolted.” Gervase was struck dumb with astonish- ment. “ Where did this happen ? ” he asked. RETAINED FOR THE DEFENCE. 71 “ Down in Beaveshire, sir, at a little watering-place called Southstone.” “ And the lady’s name?” “ Bellingham, or something o’ the sort.” “ Bellisliam, perhaps?” “ That was it, sir. Do you know anything of her, sir ? ” “ I know her very well indeed.” “ Then, sir, perhaps yon wouldn’t mind telling the old lady — her mother, I believe — that I think she didn’t treat me quite square. She slipped away on the quiet, and I’ve never been able to find a trace of her since.” “ And you’re sure this Griffin is the man ? ” “ As certain as I’m standing here.” “ How strange ! But I’m detaining you, Mr. Molewarp. Good morning. Mind, I shall do my best.” “All right, sir. Good morning.” But Gervase did not go to consult Bartlett. He returned to his own chambers, and sported his oak after him. V 72 ) CHAPTER Y. HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. p ERVASE LANE was completely stunned for a time by the information he had unexpectedly received from Molewarp. When he reached his rooms, he instinctively shut himself in, that he might give his uninter- rupted consideration to the new and strange position in which he was placed. He could scarcely believe that he was not the victim of some dream — some extraordinary delu- sion. He flung himself into his chair, and gave himself up entirely to the wild fancies and terrible suggestions which filled his brain. Here was the worst enemy he had ever had in his life flung into his power — depen- dent on his exertions. If he had striven and HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 73 struggled to bring it about, it could not have happened better. Chance had worked all for him, and in chance he seemed to recognize a supernatural justice bringing him the means of retribution. It was this feeling which made him accept the part of an avenger with so "little hesitation. He persuaded himself that the fact of the opportunity presenting itself unsought was a species of divine warrant. He was only, as it were, the instrument of a higher power. Human nature is, alas ! desperately deceitful — so deceitful that, like the scorpion, it turns its venom on itself for lack of another object. Ho stirrings of com- punction, no consciousness of meanness, no awakening of his better self, came to divest Gervase’s mind of the belief that he was but a blind instrument : for the worst feelings of his heart silenced the whispers of conscience, and cheated him into the conviction that he was not an active agent. For his mind was full of dark thoughts and designs. He brooded over his wrongs, and conceived plans of revenge to be worked out by treachery, cruelty, and utter unscrupu- 74 THE LOST LINK. lousness. For a time lie was possessed of a devil, as the old Jews were wont to say of those who were the prey to the unbridled passion for evil and mischief which stifles the voice of honour and compunction, and converts its victim into a fiend in human shape. He set himself steadily to master all the details of the brief, that he might the more completely map out the scheme of revenge — that he might close every avenue of escape, and ensure to his foe the fullest and surest punishment. To do this he would have to be guilty of the vilest treachery — he would have to play Judas — to adopt a line of defence which should only the more surely deprive the man whose liberty was entrusted to his care of any possible chance of escape. Such a plan was simply diabolical, and one might at first be inclined to doubt whether Gervase’s na- ture could have become so warped and em- bittered as to entertain it for an instant. But we must remember the provocation. He had loved, and was beloved in return — still HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 75 loved and was still beloved. But between him and the woman, for whom lie would have gladly died, was interposed the cold shadow which had been cast on her path by the man who was now so completely in his power. It was less his own wrong than the deep and irreparable injury to Mary that Gervase was bent upon avenging, and pre- pared to avenge, let the cost be what it might. He could not avoid a sort of con- sciousness of the ignominious nature of his plot against the liberty of a man who con- fided in him — but wdiat did it matter ? He would have given his life for Mary — but what was life now ? A thing of no value. He would sacrifice more precious things, the repose of a good conscience, his fair name, his honour — everything, anything for her sake. We are told that anger is a brief frenzy. What a terrible madness is born of the implacable rage and hate of a disap- pointed love ! It is nothing more nor less than demoniac possession, as I have already said. It may be as well to glance over Gervase’ s 76 THE LOST LINK. shoulder just at this time, and scan the case which is sketched out in the brief. The charge of burglary against Charles Lewis, alias Edward Griffin, was this : In the month of November, on a certain date, in a certain year, the house of a gentleman residing a short way out of Dover, on the London Eoad, was broken into, and plate to the value of some hundreds of pounds carried off. The thief, or thieves — but the probability was that it was the former — had removed a pane from a window at the back of the house, and having thus effected an entrance, easily obtained access to the but- ler’s pantry. There had been a dinner-party that evening, as it happened, and the butler had left the plate in his pantry in order to clean it, instead of carrying it upstairs with him. Suspicion at first pointed to him as an accomplice, if not the actual robber, but he was enabled to establish his innocence. The thief having, as it was conjectured, to work single-handed, was a long time removing the plate, and the operation occupied him until nearly daylight, when he must have been HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 77 disturbed by somebody moving about tbe bouse, for he seemed to have taken to flight suddenly, leaving some small silver articles tied up in a pocket-handkerchief. It was this pocket-handkerchief which was the only clue to the robber. It bore the name of “ C. Lewis ” in the corner, and though rather old, was fine cambric. The local constabulary did all in their power to trace the offender, but there was much about the robbery to point to an experienced Lon- don thief as its author, so the aid of the authorities at Scotland Yard was invoked. Molewarp, most active and intelligent of de- fectives, was sent down to investigate the matter. He at once connected the handker- chief with his former prisoner, and agreeing that the burglary was the work of a London hand, set himself to find out all he could about suspicious characters that had been seen in the neighbourhood. Before long his inquiries brought him in contact with a constable, who having been on duty on the London Road, a few days before the robbery, had stopped and questioned a 78 THE LOST LINK. tramp wlio had not given a very satisfactory account of himself, and who looked a sus- picious customer. Mole warp elicited from this acute officer’s description enough to make him pretty sure .of his man. He was able to pick up a few traces of him after his arrival at Dover, but lost all signs of him on the [day before the burglary. All this in- duced him to believe that the robber was an old friend of his, who, having been sent to Dartmoor for embezzlement, had contrived to escape from prison, and had ever since eluded pursuit. In confirmation of the detective’s theory, there appeared Mrs. Gaffy, who swore to Lewis as having lodged with her up to within a week of the robbery, when he sud- denly disappeared. She identified the hand- kerchief found on the scene of the burglary, and produced others which her lodger had left behind him at the time of his unexpected departure, and which exactly corresponded in texture and quality with that produced by Molewarp, and were, moreover, marked in exactly the same way. I10W THE BEIEF WAS CONNED. 79 The Dover constable was also called. He alleged that he had picked out the prisoner from among a crowd of others at the police station. He had taken particular notice of him, not having felt at all satisfied with the account he gave of himself, and he was per- fectly certain that he was not mistaken. The line of defence set up to meet this was simple enough. The prisoner had in- structed his lawyer that on the day of the robbery — for two days, in short — he had been laid up with a fever. He was at the time in company with a travelling basket- maker and his wife, who had nursed him through the sickness, and could therefore prove a most complete alibi. Unfortunately (Mr. Levinson added in a note), all efforts to find' these people had hitherto proved una- vailing ; and as those efforts had been most strenuous, there seemed little hope that these very necessary witnesses Avould be forth- coming on the trial. How without this evidence the defence was positively nothing. The only thing to be done was to try and show a flaw in the 80 THE LOST LINK. chain of circumstances arranged against the prisoner. It is easy enough, however, to deprecate too great a belief in circumstantial evidence, but it is another thing to set it aside altogether, especially where step by step it is as complete as it was in this case. Gervase saw that however ingenious he might have been he could not have won a verdict, and he equally perceived that he should not really contribute in the slightest to his enemy’s (and client’s) conviction. This did not satisfy the hunger for revenge which had taken possession of him. He wished to be able to feel that he had con- tributed to his overthrow. Presently he was aware of a growing desire to see the man who had crushed all the sweetness out of his life for him. He would see him, and endeavour to discover how he had deceived Mary, for that she was so far impressed by him as to have regarded him as a friend until she had perceived he was a lover, Gervase knew only too well. Then came the question how could he HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 81 contrive to see Mm. He must act cau- tiously, or lie might alarm the scoundrel. After due deliberation, he came to the determination of calling in Levinson. It was a sacrifice of dignity to send for such a disreputable scamp, but he had made up his mind to sacrifice everything for revenge, so he conquered his disgust. He wrote a note to the lawyer informing him that he wished to have a consultation with him on some points in the brief he had sent him, in the case of Reg. v. Griffin. In order to ensure Levinson’s silence, he headed his note, “ Strictly private and confidential.” Levinson called the next day, considerably surprised and puzzled. At first he was under the impression that Gervase was in doubt about his fees, but the latter soon undeceived him. “ I have taken an interest in this case, Mr. Levinson, on account of its difficulty. The odds are so heavy against us, that I should take a pride in fighting it to a suc- cessful issue. I believe my client is no better than he need be.” 82 THE LOST LINK. Levinson gave a shrug, as much as to say that all clients were much the same. “ What is he like ? Do you think that story of the witnesses to the alibi is true or trumped-up ? ” Levinson expressed a belief that there was something in it, but that there was no hope of the witnesses turning up. “ I should like to see and hear the fellow. I wish you would take me with you to see him, without letting him know who I am. You can pass me off as your partner.” The Hebrew consented readily, and an appointment was made for that afternoon. Gervase had sufficient grace in him to be ashamed of his task. He felt that his being on any terms, save those of the most dis- tant business character, with Mr. Levinson, was an abasement. He felt this so tho- roughly that, when he saw, as he was going out to keep his appointment, that he was likely to meet Bartlett, who was coming to- wards him down Middle Temple Lane, he fairly turned back, stept aside through Essex Court, and so made his way into the HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 83 Strand. Luckily for him, his friend did not notice the manoeuvre ; for Bartlett would have had no scruple in questioning him about the reason for such strange behaviour, and I think Gervase would have made a clean breast of it, being racked by various con- flicting emotions, and longing for sympathy and advice. He met Levinson at the appointed spot, and they at once set out to see Griffin. Gervase insisted on their taking a cab, and, when the four-wheeler was hailed and they got in, sank back into a corner as much out of sight as possible. Levinson saw that the other was ashamed of him, and submitted with Shylockian gentleness and humility. But I think it probable, if we could have analysed Gervase’ s feelings, we should have found he was scarcely less ashamed of himself. When they reached their destination, Levinson, though he was nearest the door, insisted with the greatest politeness on Gervase getting out first. But his reason for doing so was evident. It was not eti- quette but meanness that dictated the course 84 THE LOST LINK. he pursued ; lie was afraid if lie got out first lie would be called on to pay. Gervase detected the petty scamp, and could not repress a smile, though he had never in- tended of course that Levinson should pay for the cab which he had taken, because he was ashamed to be seen with a pettifogging attorney. The Jew having, as he thought, done a smart thing, was oil itself to his supposed dupe. He never for an instant imagined that a gentleman — especially one who was connected in any way with the law — would by any possibility neglect an opportunity of saving a few shilling at the expense of some- body else. He therefore congratulated himself on outwitting Gervase, and having done so was so pleased that he was abundantly civil. Levinson was sufficiently well known at the prison to be admitted without question. “Who’s that a-comin’ in?” asked one of the jailers at the portal of another, when the cab drew up. The second jailer peeped through the barred wicket. HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 85 “Oh, old Bloodsucker, that’s all.” And the first speaker did not ask for an explanation, which proves that the nickname was well established. I cannot tell whether Levinson knew the appellation by which he went among the warders ; but it is more than probable that he did. A man seldom gets an honorary title without hearing of it some time or other. What on earth does a man have friends for if they can’t tell him when any- thing unpleasant is said about him ? That may sound cynical, but it is not written in that spirit, I assure you. They found Griffin, or Lewis, whichever you please to call him, seated in a despond- ing attitude on the side of his hard bed. Such a bed ! Innocence could hardly have slept on it, guilt must have had a bad time of it — though for guilt to escape sleep, and, by escaping sleep, avoid dreams, is perhaps rather an advantage. Levinson assumed a chirpy air of im- portance, and began to recount to his client the superhuman efforts he — and his friend ii r. G 86 THE LOST LINK. here — were making on behalf of their in- teresting acquaintance, at present committed to prison on a charge of burglary, not to mention other trifles. Gervase Lane met his foe for the first time. He stood for a few minutes silently re- garding bim, taking an estimate of him mentally. The result of his scrutiny was far from satisfactory. The fellow was a decent enough man for his class, had indeed a refinement — due most probably to his long- anxiety and suffering — which was not what one usually meets with in such cases. But there was no trace that Gervase could detect of the superiority and intellectual power Mary had attributed to the villain who had inflicted so grievous a wrong upon her. Was it possible that she was trying to invest a fatal folly — a degrading error — with a fic- titious air of romance? He dismissed the thought at once, but there remained a mystery which he could not penetrate. There was nothing to fascinate a girl like Mary in either the looks, the manner, or, as far as he could judge, the mind of this man. HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 87 Then he remembered what Mrs. Bellisham’s nature was, and he fancied he could find some clue to the secret there. This man had been rich, so Molewarp said, and the glitter of his wealth no doubt blinded Mrs. Bellisham’s eyes to his other defects. Her influence oyer her daughter had always been great, as Gervase well knew from the con- flict that had always gone on in Mary’s mind between the desire to obey her mother and her devotion to him. While Gervase remained thus lost in thought, Levinson and Griffin had been talking unnoticed. Levinson was protesting his utter inability to discover the missing witness, while Griffin was urging him to make further efforts. “It’s the only chance,” he repeated. “ If you can’t get him, I had better give up at once, and let them do what they like with me. It would be only robbing my kind old friend at the wharf to let you waste money on the struggle.” “Ye ain’t a goin’ to give up ? Yat a chap you are ! ” expostulated the Jew. 88 THE LOST LINK. “What’s the good? I have not the shadow of a hope if you don’t find John Marks.” The name arrested Gervase’s attention. It was familiar to him. He shook off his abstraction. “ John Marks,” he said, “ what is he ? ” “ A travelling basket-maker, sir ! ” “ Oh, of course, the witness you want to prove an alibi. Is John Marks the man ? I know him well, and I have no doubt, from what I know of him, that I can find him easily ! ” “ Aha ! that’sh very good — very good, in- deed. Ye see I told ye ve vash doin’ all in our power.” “ This gentleman was your partner, I un- derstood, and yet he does not know about this, which you profess to have taken such trouble about.” “ I am only occasionally at the business,” interposed Gervase. “ Mr. Levinson does everything without me ; but it chances that in this case I can be useful.” “ Yy, he’s a shleepin’ partner, of course,” HOW THE BRIEF WAS CONNED. 80 said Levinson, taking Lis cue, “ but it’s all in our bishness, ye know.” “ Oh, of course,” said Griffin, turning from the Jew to Gervase, of whom he had previously taken but little notice. “ You’d see to this at once, won’t you, sir ? ” “ I’ll go and look for the man myself to- morrow, and leave no stone unturned till I find him.” “ I am very grateful, sir.” “Never be grateful before you have got the object for which you express the grati- tude.” With this remark Gervase turned and left the room. He could not stay there longer. Levinson followed him, profuse in his ex- pressions of joy at the good luck arising from Gervase’s visit ; but Gervase was too full of thought to take any notice of him. That night Griffin slept as he had not slept for weeks, for months. But he did not dream, or at all events did not dream of coming evil, for his sleep was undisturbed. ( 00 ) CHAPTER VI. JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. HEN Gervase Lane reached his cham- bers after his first interview with Griffin, he sported his oak, and shut himself out from the world to meditate over his position. “ Hang it ! ” said Bartlett, coming over oresently to see him, and finding the blank black door closed for the second or third time within the last few days. “ Hang it ! He must be working very hard at something, or else he has gone off suddenly into the country. Pie might as well have let a fellow know. I shan’t come up these confounded stairs again, wasting health and patience, until I hear from him.” There always is something trying to the JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 91 temper in finding a sported oak. I suppose I need hardly explain what a sported oak is — the closed outer door of a man’s chambers in the Inns of Court or of his rooms in College. It has a stolid defiance about it that is especially provoking. It is not pleasant to call anywhere and be told that somebody whom you particularly wish to see is not at home. But in that case you can ask the servant when he is expected in, how long he has been gone, where he has gone — and, in short, a host of questions to break your fall, and enable you to make a graceful exit. Besides, however stupid the servant may be, you have at least a fellow- creature, a human being, to deal with, who will give you the rebuff as courteously as possible. But when, after having threaded the intri- cacies of the Temple or some of the other labyrinthine barracks where the Law, ever delighting in what is intricate, has taken up its abode — when, after having toiled up several dark and depressing flights of steep stairs to the production of palpitation of the heart and disturbance of the respiratory 92 THE LOST LINK. functions — when, after all these sacrifices of dignity and comfort, you come to the stolid, solid, impenetrable, uncommunicative “Not at home ” expressed by the closed door, which is handleless and knockerless, and which generally has a confusing pro- fusion of keyhole, practical and dummy, through which you can see nothing — then I must admit that a momentary impatience and disgust may be fairly pardoned. Your feelings are outraged just as the clown’s are when the tradesman, to whom he is desirous of paying a call — his previous visits having been highly profitable — has the cruelty to slam the door in his face with such abrupt- ness that he slams it literally “ to his nose,” as the French would say. The most even- tempered man cannot help for a moment fancying the oak has been closed against him personally, and of malice prepense. You may kick at it, or, taking the chance of hitting on the right one, you may whistle through any of the many keyholes, but you get nothing by your motion. You feel hoaxed — duped ; and the consciousness of this is JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 93 so absurdly present to your mind, that you will admit, if you have any honesty about you, that if you hear anyone coming up the stairs when you are thus rebuffed, you in- variably assume an air of gaiety and a sub- dued whistle, and go away as if you had not been turned back by a two-inch door, but were coming down from a successful visit on some other floor. Bartlett ought to have known better per- haps than to take offence at such a trifle, but he most certainly felt huffed at his want of success in finding Gervase in. You see, he had been always accustomed to drop in on “the young ’un,” as he called him, at all hours, and the exclusion was new and un- pleasant. But whether he ought to have known better or no, this one thing is certain — he kept his word, and did not call at King’s Bench Walk, determining to wait till he heard from or saw Gervase before putting himself to the trouble of another visit. A two-inch door is not much in reality when you come to consider it, but it means 94 THE LOST LINK. a great deal. It means solitude ; it means self-dependence ; it means isolation ; and these are not always good for a man. Ger- vase was none the better that he had kept himself aloof from the converse, the advice, the influence of Bartlett, during these few days of his great trouble. He became self- reliant, self-contained, self-counselled, self- judged — in a word, selfish altogether — Lord of liimself, that heritage of ill. When a man is lord of himself he has an obsequious and blind vassal, and to be so served is to be spoiled. Gervase mused over his wrongs, and re- fined upon his scheme of vengeance. He sat like Saul in the solitary silence of his tent, with only an evil spirit for his companion. Bartlett would have scared away this ugly influence. In liis absence it deepened and grew more powerful, taking a stronger hold every minute of poor Gervase’ s much- tortured heart and mind. When he was first entrapped unwarily into saying that lie knew John Marks, Gervase JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 95 had no ulterior design. The confession of his acquaintance was made in an unguarded moment, and the worst he intended, when Griffin asked him to seek for the basket- maker, was simple inaction in the matter. But as he sat alone in his silent chambers, brooding oyer his wrongs and the wrongs of the woman he loved, he elaborated a cruel design. It was not enough that he should allow his foeman’s case to be lost by simple in- action : such passive retribution was not enough for his vengeance. He would seek John Marks, and, what is more, he would seek him until he found him ; and then, with the means of rescue in his power, he would let the wretch suffer. This idea took strong possession of his mind. He gloated over it with vindictive joy and satisfaction. It was the pleasant reflection of his waking hours. It haunted him in his dreams. He dreamt that he was in the desert — he and Griffin alone. They had wandered from the caravan, and were lost. The pitiless sun 96 THE LOST LINK. scorched them, until the pangs of hunger were lost in the terrible thirst which con- sumed them, and he held in his hand a cup of water. Griffin, as he lay panting, almost dead, on the hot sand, stretched forth his hand for it. But just as the poor wretch’s hand touched it, he tilted the vessel, and smiled as the precious moisture sank into the dry sand and was lost. Again he dreamt. He stood on the verge of some lofty precipice. Griffin was clinging for dear life to the edge, which crumbled at his touch. He cried for aid, and Gervase, bending over the giddy verge, clasped him by the wrist. The unhappy creature gave a smile of relief, and loosened the agonized grasp he had maintained on the tufts of grass — the yielding soil — the mere straws which drowning men clutch ; and then, as Griffin relied entirely on his aid, Gervase shook him loose, and shrieked with fiendish enjoyment as he saw the miserable wretch fall headlong down. He dreamt of him another time. Gervase was on the deck of a large vessel, and Griffin JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 97 was in a tiny boat, which, striking against the ship, was stove, and began to sink. He heard Griffin’s cry for help, he saw his agonized white face turned up to him, and he flung a rope to the drowning man ; but, as the frail shallop sank from under him and he was about to climb the tall ship’s side, Gervase leant over and severed the rope, and there was a cry of anguish, and then came silence. He rose feverish and unrested from such sleep as this, and the evil influence had stronger power than ever. He would refine on his vengeance. He would hold the cup to Griffin’s lips — only to dash it away. He would hold forth his hand to him — only to make his destruction the more bitter, the more certain. He would fling out a rope to him — only to see how much anguish might be intensified by a phantom hope. In this way it came about that Gervase finally determined to find John Marks; but only that he might ensure his non-appear- ance at the trial. He had not as yet so 98 THE LOST LINE. hardened his heart as to contemplate telling Griffin of what he had done, and the reason of it. The savage delight of assuring his hated enemy that he had the means of rescue, but would withhold it, was a cruelty which as yet he had not fully realised. He knew that the difficulty of finding John Marks was not an insuperable one. It is no easy matter, of course, to find a needle in a bottle of hay ; but if a man have suffi- cient reason for his search, he will separate the hay blade by blade until he finds the object of his search. A vindictive motive would supply him with patience enough — and to spare — for a task so congenial. So Gervase set out on his quest without the slightest fear of failure. He would have quartered all Kent inch by inch, as a pointer quarters a turnip field, sooner than lose the opportunity of intensifying his vengeance. He would have gone over every foot of ground in the county — if the county had been twenty times the size — rather than miss such a chance. Having once come to this fixed determina- JOHN MAKES MAKES A PROMISE. 99 tion, lie settled on a plan of action that was simple enough. He made Canterbury his head-quarters to begin with, and hiring a horse, rode off every day on an excursion, making enquiries of the rural police and at village ale-houses. He found that the yokels misled him terribly, without any intention. They seem- ed to have no care for the lapse of time, which, to an inhabitant of a busy town, is so valuable a commodity. “ Had they seen a travelling basket maker and chair mender, named Marks ? ” he would ask of all he met ; and the reply was often, “Yes, he was here in the village two or three weeks since, on his way to this place or that place.” Whereupon, Gervase would conclude that he was close upon John’s heels; but he would speedily discover that “ three weeks ” was the boorish for “ three months” — it was all the same to Hodge, who only recognized the seedtime and the harvest as important divisions of time, and cared little for months or weeks. Gervase spent four days in this fruitless 100 THE LOST LINK. toil, but on the fifth he gained a clue which gave him fresh hope. He was riding along a quiet lane near Sevenoaks, when he came upon the traces of a recent encampment. The ashes of an extinct fire were yet lying white by the roadside. He saw a few slivers of cane and bits of withe lying about, and he guessed that John Marks had been there. o The signs were evidently fresh, he agreed within himself, after a minute scrutiny that would have done credit to an Indian chief on the war trail. He looked carefully to see in which direction the cart had gone on the breaking up of the camp, and, having settled its course to his satisfaction, he pushed on, feeling certain he was not far from the object of his search. The next day he met with John Marks. It was in a secluded and pleasant lane on the Tonbridge Road, that he came upon the little caravan.’ A broad stretch of turf bordered the road for some distance, while a belt of woodland on either side sheltered the spot from wind and weather. It was a scene such as an JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 101 artist would select. The bright green of the turf, the rich red of the gravelly soil, and the sombre foliage of the oaks, contrasted well. The little house-upon-wheels, freshly painted, stood out against the hawthorn hedge, and the blue smoke of the fire wavered up, clearly defined, against the dark wood. A blue sky, with only an occasional white fleece of vapour, hung over all. Gervase could not choose but draw rein and contemplate the picture for a moment. But the desire for revenge soon banished the love of the pic- turesque. He rode up to the miniature camp, and gave a hail. “ Hallo, John Marks !” Mrs. Marks came to the door of the cart. “ What is it you want with him ? Oh, it’s you, sir. I mind your coming to see him before. He’ll be back in a minute or two, for he’s only gone to fetch some water.” And sure enough in a short time John made his appearance from the wood, bearing the kettle in his hand. He recognized Ger- vase, and touched his hat. “ Good day t’ye, sir. Fine weather, thank hi. H 102 THE LOST LINK. God ! And liow are you, sir, if I may be so bold?” “Very well, indeed, thank you, Marks. Where have you been all this time ? ” “ Oh, sir, at the old work — up and down the country.” “ Do you never see a paper, Marks ? ” “ I see ’em often enough, sir, but I don’t read ’em. I’ve no call to read ’em. I don’t care about anything in ’em, as is mostly lies, to my thinking.” “ I have been advertising for you for weeks past.” “ For me, sir ? Lord bless ye, you might ha’ gone on doing that a long time afore I should hear of it. But what might you want wi’ me, sir ? ” “ When I last saw you, you told me — you and your wife — of your having taken care of a poor tramp who was struck down by fever.” “ That’s so, sir,” said Marks ; his wife confirming him by an assenting gesture. “ He’s taken up, and is like to be punished for a robbery committed during the time he JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 103 was lying ill in your cart. You alone can prove him to be innocent. Do yon remember the date of his stay ? ” “ Ay, sir, that I do. He was took the very day twelvemonth after our poor Jack died. Wasn’t he, Jane ? ” “Yes, that he was, sure-ly,” said Mrs. Marks, and named the date. “ That is the very evidence to prove him innocent,” said Gervase. “ I suppose you won’t mind coming and saying that much ? ” “ Lord help us all in trouble, sir ! Why, I’d walk the length of the county barefoot sooner than miss helping a poor chap in dis- tress.” “ Well, then, look here, Marks. I’m the lawyer who must defend him. It is neces- sary that we should not let it be known that we have found you. So I want you to come up to some place handy to town where I can send for you at a moment’s notice. And I want you to stay there quite quietly — you must not stir an inch until you hear from me.” ii 2 “ I’ll do it, sir.” 104 THE LOST LINK. “ But, Jolin” — interposed Mrs. Marks. “ All right, Mrs. Marks. I anticipate your objection,” said Gervase; “the ex- penses of your stay will be paid. Here is money” — he took out five sovereigns and gave her — “ when that is exhausted you shall have more.” Mrs. Marks thanked him, and gave a satisfied curtsey. “ Promise me you won’t move a step — no matter who tries to urge you, and upon no pretence until I tell you.” “ With all my heart, sir.” “ Good ; and now, where are the quietest and most secluded corners to be found near London ? ” John Marks told him, and he and Gervase then arranged the minor details. In about lialf-an-hour all was settled to Gervase’ s complete satisfaction. “You promise solemnly, Marks, not to be induced by any representations to stir a finger except at my bidding.” “ To be sure, sir. I know you’ll want to do the best for him.” JOHN MARKS MAKES A PROMISE. 105 “ Yes — even if I seem not to be doing it, which is why I am so particular on this point.” “ All right, sir, you can trust me, and I know I can trust you.” Gervase rode off, fully satisfied that he had accomplished his scheme of retribution. ( 106 ) CHAPTER VII. SHATTERED HOPES. TT7.HEN he had so far achieved his end as ' ' to have John Marks in his power, Gervase intended to sit down quietly and watch the progress of events — to enjoy his revenge peacefully. But something — I hope an uneasiness of conscience — made him rest- less and unsatisfied. He felt he could not be content, after setting in motion the ma- chinery that was to crush his enemy, to sit by in silence and see the blow fall. The man on whom he wished to wreak this re- tribution must know who it was that struck the blow, and why he struck it. That would lend additional bitterness to his sufferings, and Gervase did not wish to spare him one pang ! SHATTERED HOPES. 107 But the question was how to reveal to Griffin the vengeance he meditated without endangering its success. After much con- sideration he became convinced that the best way to do this was to tell him with his own lips — and so enjoy the triumph most tho- roughly without running any risk ; for if Griffin spoke of it to Levinson, it would be easy to laugh the matter down as a fable — the figment of an overwrought brain, or the invention of a guilty conscience. He determined to visit Griffin in prison. He would go by himself, and put the wretch to torture — he would tantalise him with a prospect of escape, and then reveal the scheme of revenge. Before he went to see the prisoner, how- ever, he wrote to Mary and told her all that had taken place since he saw her, and showed how fate had flung her betrayer, bound hand and foot, into his power. “ There is but one loop-hole for him to escape,” he wrote — “ the evidence of an old man and his wife, which would establish at once the impossibility of his having com- 108 THE LOST LINK. mitted tlie crime with which he is charged. I happen to know this old man well, and was able to find him wdien the attorney, who is a thorough old scamp, altogether failed to do so. “ From what the old man says, I am con- vinced that this villain, whatever else he may have done, is not guilty in this particular instance. But what then ? I have secured the evidence, and I intend to tell him so, and finally, when he is rejoicing in the hope of escape, I will tell him your story and mine, and reveal the vengeance I mean to take. For, as I am a living man, he shall not have that old man’s evidence to save him; he shall be sentenced for a crime he has not committed, as some faint retribution for the evil he has done, for which we cannot punish him. I have sworn to avenge your wrongs upon him.” There was much more to this same pur- pose in the letter which he addressed to Mary, sending it under cover to her mother, at Brighton, directed to the lodgings which she occupied there when he last wrote. Mrs. SHATTERED HOPES. 109 Flossett had, of course, quitted those humble apartments, and was staying with her hus- band at the first hotel in the place until the house they had taken was furnished. For- tunately, her old landlady knew where she was, and forwarded the letter. You can easily imagine poor Mary’s feelings when she read it. In the meantime Gervase paid his visit to the prisoner, as he had planned. He found Griffin nervous and anxious. The gleam of hope which had broken into the cell at Gervase’ s last visit had dispelled the gloom and apathy to which the prisoner had begun to give way. But in their place it produced a feverish restlessness that made the confinement doubly tedious. Gervase noted with inward satisfaction the dry, hot, hollow cheek, the white lips, the glittering eye of his enemy, for he guessed the cause of this change in him. The wretch was panting for liberty — athirst for the cup which Gervase only held to his lips that he might the more agonise him when he dashed it to the ground. 110 THE LOST LINK. “ Have you found liim ? ” asked Griffin, as soon as he saw who his visitor was. “ Yes, I knew exactly where to meet with him. I have known John Marks for a long time.” “ What does he say ? ” “ He can swear positively to your being ill of a fever at the time of the robbery — swear to the very day.” “ How fortunate. Good old John ! ” “ It happens that he has reason to re- member the date very exactly, as the anni- versary of his son’s death.” “You think, this will be sufficient?” “I am certain it would be if produced. The evidence against you is purely circum- stantial. It is a mere chain of probabilities, which is shattered at once by the estab- lishing of such positive facts as Marks can prove.” “ I understand you, sir. But the evi- dence they have is strong. That handker- chief” — “ What do you know about the compara- tive value of evidence?” asked Gervase SHATTERED HOPES. Ill sharply. “ You seem to have had experience in these matters.” Griffin blushed and hesitated. “ I was in a lawyer’s office once — besides, sir, I have had sad experience of courts of justice. I have been tried and convicted before now — though I was innocent.” Gervase smiled. “I see you don’t believe me, sir; but I speak the truth, so help me Heaven ! ” “ Oh, of course ! You were never guilty of any wrong — never harmed a fellow-crea- ture in your life.” There was a sneer in this. Griffin winced, and looked very hard at Gervase, puzzled to understand his drift. “ No, sir. None of us can say that. I have done many a wrong action — but the worst thing I ever did in my life was done in self-defence — for self-preservation. I have always repented it since ; but then I was almost beside myself with terror at the time and wished to conceal my identity, and thought, moreover, that the person I wronged — but why should I weary you with all this ? 112 THE LOST LINK. I have committed a crime for which I deserve punishment, but that crime has never been charged to me.” “ Are you sure ? It may rise against you yet. It will do so, rest assured.” “ It may be, sir. If so, I will suffer for it willingly. But of this robbery I know no- thing.” “ Can you explain the mystery about the handkerchief ? Is it yours, or is the evidence which proves it to be yours an artful device of the police ? ” “ I believe it is mine, sir. The woman who swears to it was my landlady, and there can be no reason why she should swear falsely to injure me. I never wronged her.” “ You were at Dover about the time of the robbery ? ” “ I was, sir. I left London, suddenly — took alarm at meeting my old employer, and ran away to Dover to take ship. But some- how I did not go, and when the alarm was worked off a bit, I returned to Lon- don.” “ Did you lose a handkerchief there ? But SHATTERED HOPES. 113 I suppose you would hardly remember so trivial a circumstance ? ” “ Yes, I do. For after 1 had recovered from the fever, and had left the Marks’s, and was coming back to town, I missed the hand- kerchief, and I was so down-hearted and wretched, that it seemed another proof of everything’s going against me. I am almost ashamed to think how near I was to crying at such trifle. But you see I was weak from the fever, and weary, and worn out.” “You missed it. Where had you stayed at Dover? ” “ One night, at a cheap lodging house. I didn’t lose it there, though. The other nights I slept under the hedges, where I could. Oh, it was bitter cold, sir.” “ Then you cannot guess how you lost it?” “ I have puzzled over it a good deal, and there’s only one way I can see out of the difficulty. As I was on the tramp — -just before I fell in with the country policeman who swears to me — I was in company with a man who asked me to join him in a robbery. 114 THE LOST LINK. When we met the constable, we parted company, and I believe he took it.” “Did the constable stop him as well as you?” “ Yes, sir. But he was an old hand, and had a story all cut and dried, about being a travelling glazier on the look out for a job Ah ! I never thought of that before, sir. He had a diamond with him — a glazier’s dia- mond. I remember his showing it to the policeman, and saying he was glad he had not lost it through being in my company, when the policeman stopped me.” “ What about that ? ” “ Don’t you see, sir ? This robbery I am accused of was done by a man who took out a pane of glass — ‘ starred the glaze,’ as thieves call it. He took my handkerchief, I’ll wager.” “Very likely. It would be well to elicit what that country constable can say on that point, by asking him if you were alone, and, if not, who was with you, and what conver- sation passed at the time. That would be in your favour.” SHATTERED HOPES. 115 “ He wouldn’t find it convenient to re- member it.” “ I’m not sure of that. If lie could see how it would benefit you he might evade it, but he won’t see that, so the chances are he will speak the truth.” Griffin was quite excited at this further gleam of hope. He walked restlessly up and down the cell, watched by Gervase, who smiled quietly to see the effect his words had produced. “ I think that admission, strengthening John Marks’s evidence, would ensure your acquittal. It is a pity we do not know this fellow’s name.” “ The policeman’s ? ” “ No ; the burglar’s.” “ Stop a momept, sir. He told me his name. Let me think for a bit, and I daresay I shall remember it. I don’t mean his proper name, you know, but the name he went by.” Griffin sat down and buried his face in his hands, trying to recall what the burglar had told him. 116 THE LOST LINK. Gervase sat watching him with a cruel smile on his face. The conversation had turned by chance upon a line which re- vealed new means of torture. He would let Griffin elaborate his hope of escape as much as possible, in order that the disap- pointment might be the more bitter when it came. “ I have it, sir. Sucker Sam. That was the name, and it was given to him on this very account, because he did his work by cutting out a pane of glass, fixing a sucker — you know the thing, sir, a round bit of leather at the end of a string — well, he fixes that against the glass, draws a circle round the pane with his diamond, and out it comes.” “ I suppose the police know him, and I can employ a detective to look after him. He wouldn’t give evidence, though, of course. But he may be made useful some- how. Every little helps with so ticklish a defence.” “ But it seems to be getting a strong defence now, sir, thanks to you.” SHATTERED HOPES. 117 “ Don’t thank me ! I have little to do with it.” “ But you have everything to do with it, sir. You found Marks, and it’s through your coming to see me now that we’ve had a conversation leading to our getting fresh strength. It’s all due to you, sir, for your partner has done nothing.” “ Nonsense. He’ll have done more for you than I have, you’ll see by and by.” Gervase paused a minute. A sudden thought flashed through his mind. He could still further elaborate his scheme of vengeance. “ Look here ! I am rather pleased at hav- ing done all this, and shall be proud to show my partner that I can be of service, which he rather doubts. If he comes to see you, say nothing to him about this interview, or what we have discovered. I’ll go at once and see a detective. I think I shall be able to work you up a complete defence which must ensure an acquittal — if your counsel will adopt it.” “ He’ll have instructions, and of course he must go by them.” in. i 116 THE LOST LINK. “ Ob, yes ; of course, of course. He must go by liis instructions, as you say. I’ll see you again as soon as I have learnt all I can about tbis fellow you mention — Sucker Sam. I shall be sure not to forget tlie name.” Gervase put off tlie revelation be bad in- tended to make. He took a morbid delight in watching tlie growth of hope in bis enemy’s mind, and procrastinated. He went to bis chambers, and sent a note to Wigley, the detective. Wigley was a very sharp fellow, who was rather jealous of the position Mole warp held. He was keen enough to see that fortune bad been a good friend to bis rival, and that be himself deserved the reputation as much as Molewarp. When, therefore, Gervase told him that be wanted him to fish up some evidence for him in a case in which Mole- warp was engaged on the opposite side, be took to the job with great readiness. Gervase, without letting him know what the particu- lar case was, told him that be wanted to get bold of “ Sucker Sam.” It happened that SHATTERED HOPES. 119 Wigley knew exactly where to lay hands on him, and offered to take him at once. But this was not what Gervase wanted. He wished to see the fellow, and Wigley, on having this explained to him, undertook to arrange an interview. “ Where will you meet him ? ” asked Wigley. “ Send him here some evening,” said Gervase. “As you please, sir. But I wouldn’t let him beyond the door, if I was you. He’s sure to inspect the premises with an eye to business.” “ Oh, he wouldn’t find it answer his pur- pose here.” The detective laughed and went away. The next evening “Sucker Sam” presented himself at Gervase’s chambers, accompanied by Wigley. Gervase had so far profited by Wigley’ s hint that he had intended to parley with the burglar on the landing outside his chambers. But the presence of the detective prevented his carrying the idea into opera- tion. He did not want Wigley to overhear i 2 120 THE LOST LINK. the conversation, so lie liad to leave him in the outer room, while he and “ Sucker Sam ” had their talk out in the inner one. Gervase did not get much by his motion. “ The Sucker ” was not to be prevailed on to criminate himself, but he admitted enough when Gervase took him by surprise with the charge of burglary, to convince him that what Griffin had conjectured was correct. After all, this was what Gervase wanted ; so he was satisfied, without attempting to en- trap the burglar into a confession. He gave him five shillings and sent him off, and Sam and Wigley retired to a neighbouring public, where they drank a glass of ale to- gether amicably and separated. There was no animosity between them. Sam was not “ wanted ” just then, and Wigley knew he could find him if he wished ; so they were both pretty comfortable, and had no reason for quarrelling because their professions ivere of a conflicting character. The day after his interview with the burglar, Gervase went to see Griffin again. SHATTERED HOPES. 121 “ I have seen the man you spoke of, and he admits that he was the burglar.” “Can we bring him as a witness?” “No. But I think we may be able to make a point out of the evidence of the Dover constable by dovetailing it with the evidence of the detective I employed, who knows all about this fellow.” “Will he go against the other police- man ? ” “ Yes ; there is no love lost between them. Besides, we could subpoena him to extort what we wanted.” “What trouble you have taken about this, sir ! I don’t know how to thank you.” Gervase rose and stood before Griffin. “ Don’t thank me. You’ll repent if you do.” “What do you mean, sir?” “ You see how I have got this defence together. You see how well it is adapted to procure your acquittal. You see I have Marks where I can bring him forward. You see all this, don’t you ? ” “ I do, sir.” 122 THE LOST LIKE. “ Then I tell you not one word of this shall appear at the trial. I have secured Marks in order to prevent his appearing to help you ; I have raised your hopes in order to make your disappointment more bitter, your condemnation more sure.” Griffin stared aghast for a minute. Then he turned pale as a sheet, and sprang up. “ Why, sir ? What have I done ? Why is this?” Gervase smiled. “ I have a wrong to avenge.” “ I never did you a wrong knowingly, sir. For God’s sake explain But, pshaw ! I will speak to your partner and ” “ He will not listen to you. What does your fate matter to him so long as he is paid ? ” “ I will appeal to the Judge — the Jury — ” “ They would not believe you ! ” “ At least, tell me what I have done to cause this cruel hatred ? ” “ Ask your conscience ! You have done an irreparable wrong to one who was dearer to me than life ; and by Heaven you shall SHATTERED HOPES. 123 pay for it to the very uttermost. If you could be hung for it, I would twist the rope myself! ” With that Gervase stalked out of the cell, leaving Griffin utterly prostrated with as- tonishment and disappointment. ( 124 ) CHAPTER VIII. A BENT IN THE CLOUDS. “ T)ETTY, my dear,” said the old man, looking up from the letter he was spelling out as he sat at breakfast, “ Betty, my dear, Mr. Levinson writes to say as Lewis wants to see me partickler. I’ll go at once.” “ I can come, too, can’t I, gran’tlier ? ” “ Yes, if ye like. In fact, it’ll be better you should, for you’re a better schollard than me, and see things quicker. Go and put on your bonnet as quick as you can, my dear.” Betty was a true woman, and on most occasions took as long to put on her bonnet as most ladies ; but she was hardly a minute about the operation now, and she and her grandfather were speedily on their road. A RENT IN THE CLOUDS. 125 They were to go to Levinson’s office and call for him. They reached that cheerful den before the old spider himself had ar- rived, and so they had to wait. Levinson turned up in due course, and having read his letters and given instructions to his clerks, professed himself ready to accompany them. It was a terrible shock to poor Betty to see how ill Griffin looked. He was worn to a skeleton, and was as white as a ghost, save for two feverish spots of red on his hollow cheeks. It would have done Gervase’s heart good to see how his enemy had suffered. He had suffered sorely. At first he could not realise the truth of Gervase’s words. He thought that he must have dreamt the interview ; but when the conviction dawned upon him that the man who had it in his power to save him was bent upon his de- struction, the trial was too great, and he sickened and lay half unconscious with fever for a day or two. When he recovered he determined to send for Betty and her grand- father, and tell them all. They would believe 126 THE LOST LINK. him, and might be able to advise or aid him. So, the next time Levinson came, he asked him to write to the wharf, and Levinson cheerfully earned his 6s. 8d. like a man. I don’t think Levinson was pleased when Griffin expressed a wish to have a word or two with his friends in private ; but he with- drew as desired. “ What’s the trouble, Lewis, my boy ? ” asked the old man, cheerily. “Don’t call me Lewis any more, for Heaven’s sake. I have had nothing but misfortune since the day I took that name. I’m Edward Griffin. Call me so always in future.” “ Ay, whatever you like, lad. But what’s the trouble ? ” “ Trouble enough, trouble enough.” “ Why, Mr. Levinson tells me that every- thing is going on brave.” “ So he thinks ; but I know better. His partner is deceiving us both. I can’t tell why, but he means to ruin me.” “ I never knew as he had a partner.” “ He brought him here the other day, and A RENT IN THE CLOUDS. 127 he said he knew Marks, the witness we want, and he has found him and got together a mass of evidence. But he came here the other day and told me he should suppress it all. I don’t know why ; but he was in downright earnest.” “ Let’s have Mr. Levinson in and tell him ! ” “ Not for the world ! ” “ Why not r ” “Don’t you see, Levinson wouldn’t believe me, and it would make him savage. I sent for you, because I knew you and Betty would believe me, and I wanted your advice.” “ What can be the meaning of this ?” said Betty. “ Have you ever seen him before ? ” “ Never to mv knowledge.” vf O “ What did he say he was going to do it for ? ” “ He would not tell me. When I asked him — implored him to give me a reason, he told me to ask my own conscience, and said some- thing about my having injured some one who was very dear to him.” 128 THE LOST LINK. “ Cannot you guess at all ? ” “ No ; I cannot think of anything that could make him feel such a bitter vengeance against me.” The three sat silent for a while trying to devise some plan to meet the new difficulty ; but it was all in vain. They could hit upon nothing practicable. But Betty could not bear to see her preserver so cast down, and determined to do something to relieve his distress. “ I think,” she said, “that father and I had better go away, and we can think this all over quietly at home, and we’ll come again on Monday and let you know what we think ; and I’ll tell you what we’ll do — we’ll ask Mr. Levinson all about this partner of his.” “Ay, that’s a good thought o’ yours, Betty, my lass,” said the old man. “ We’ll try and find out about him, and come back again.” So the old man and his granddaughter bade good-bye for a time to their friend, and joined Mr. Levinson. A KENT IN THE CLOUDS. 120 On questioning that legal luminary, they were met with evasions and misstatements ; but he was shrewd enough to see that the old man was in earnest, and might throw up his case, or employ another lawyer, if he still kept Gervase’s secret. So he deter- mined to reveal it — more especially as it was not, as far as he knew, of the least im- portance ; for he supposed the incognito was assumed merely to satisfy the young bar- rister’s scruples as to the want of dignity in consulting a client in person. He accord- ingly explained to the old man that his sup- posed partner was no partner at all, but a very clever young barrister, who was to con- duct the defence, and who was taking im- mense interest in the case. “ Who is he ?” asked Betty. “ I hope he is one of the first barristers of the day.” “ Vy, he’sh the most risin’ young chap at the bar — he ish, indeed. Everybody knows Mr. Gervase Lane, blesh ye !” That was enough for Betty, who had a clue to the matter now, and could follow it up. The next morning, therefore, after break- 130 THE LOST LINK. fast, slie told lier grandfather she was going out for a few hours, and set forth on a pil- grimage, determined not to return home until she had accomplished her object, which was to find Gervase Lane, and ask him why he was so cruelly bent on ruining Edward Griffin. Poor little woman, she had a difficult task before her. Hunting for a needle in a bottle of hay is generally thought to be a confusing undertaking, and one that holds out but slight promise of success. But it would be a positively easy matter, compared with that which Betty undertook. She had to find Mr. Gervase Lane in London — and she had not the faintest idea in the world how to set about it. She was not versed in history, so that she had not even so wild and hopeless a scheme as the history of Gilbert a Beckett and the Moorish maiden would have suggested. Fortune, however, favours the brave, and it was with a brave heart that Betty set out. She had a notion that law somehow dwelt in the neighbour- hood of Chancery Lane, and thither accord- A BENT IN THE CLOUDS. 131 ingly she bent her steps. She wandered about, looking at names on the doorposts of sets of chambers for some time ; but at last a lucky thought struck her. She would try a directory. So she went into a law- stationer’s, and asked to be allowed to look at one. They gave her the “Post Office Directory,” which I fear only confused her. Fortunately the stationer was not a creature of pounce and parchment only, and seeing her difficulty he offered to help her. When she explained what she desired, he at once turned to a law directory, and found out what was wanted. He was a fatherly old gentleman, and was by no means satisfied that this young girl should be hunting about for a young barrister’s chambers, and he told her as much. Betty had not thought of this, but she did not shrink from her self- imposed task. She told the old stationer that Mr. Lane was engaged to defend a very dear friend, and she wanted to speak to him about something very important. The old man shook his head, and told her that he thought it was not very likely that Mr. Lane 132 THE LOST LINK. would see her, which you may be sure made the little woman very sad. But she would not give it up without a fight, so she got the stationer to direct her to King’s Bench Walk, and hurried off. She was not long in finding her destination. But, alas, when she reached the door of Gervase’s chambers, she found the oak sported, and her heart sank within her when she saw there was neither bell nor knocker. She was not to be discouraged easily, however. She sat down on a coal-bunk, and made up her mind to wait for her chance of seeing Ger- vase. Gervase had gone out to lunch, and was away some two or three hours. Betty waited with exemplary patience, not a little to the amusement of those residents on the staircase who happened to pass and see a young and not uninteresting girl sitting so quietly by Lane’s door. Betty had had a longisli walk, and was rather tired ; the silence and monotony of the place soon overpowered her, and she dropped off asleep. A RENT IN THE CLOUDS. 133 She was in the middle of some terrible confused dream, in which Edward Griffin figured largely as the victim of all sorts of injustice and misfortune, when a voice sud- denly woke her. It was Gervase, who, returning from lunch, was not a little surprised to find such a sen- tinel posted by his oak. “What do you want here?” he asked, rather stiffly. “I’m waiting to see the gentleman who lives here, sir.” “ Mr. Lane ? ” “Yes, sir.” Gervase looked puzzled. The situation was rather awkward. At last he broke silence. “ If you want Mr. Lane, I am he ; but I don’t know what you can want with me.” “ Oh, please sir. May I have a few words with you — it’s a matter of life and death, sir — it is, indeed. Oh, please let me speak to you, sir ! ” There was earnestness in her tone that Gervase could not refuse. He flung open the door. hi. K 134 THE LOST LINK. “Step in here, please. We can talk here without being interrupted.” For, sooth to say, Gervase did not care to be caught talking with Betty on the stairs. “ Take a chair,” he said, “ and then you can tell me what you wish.” Betty sat down; but now that she had attained her object, she did not know how to proceed. There was an awkward pause. At last she managed to muster courage to speak. “ Oh, sir, you’re going to defend a very dear friend of mine — my preserver — Edward Griffin.” Gervase chilled in a moment. “ What are you to him — his wife ? ” “ ISTo, sir. He’s married, but his Avife is aAvay from him. I’ve neA r er seen her, but he used to speak of her.” “ Then how are you interested in him ? ” “ Why, sir, lie saved my life, and I ought to bo grateful to him.” And thereupon Betty related the whole story of her falling into the Avater and her preservation. A BENT IN THE CLOUDS. 135 When she had finished, Gervase coldly- asked her what she wished of him. “ Oh, sir, he’s told me what you’ve said to him, and I thought I would come and beg you to spare him. He cannot have done you any wrong — not intentionally, I am sure.” “ My good girl, you can know nothing about this ” “ But I do, sir; I know all about him.” “It is useless to discuss the question. You are talking at random. You only waste time in staying here.” “Ho, sir. Don’t say so. Only hear me. Don’t turn me away. Oh, sir — I owe him my life. Let me speak for him ! ” The girl’s earnest feeling, and her deter- mination, stirred the inner deeps of Gervase’ s nature. “ If he has saved one life,” he said, with a softened voice, “it is no more than he should. He has made two other lives mise- rable.” “ Oh, no, sir. There is some terrible mis- take somewhere — there is, indeed.” Gervase shook his head. His imperturb- k 2 136 THE LOST LINK. able coldness broke down poor Betty’s last hope. She burst into tears, and threw her- self on her knees before him. “ Oh, sir, in pity tell me what it is. I lcnow there is some dreadful mistake.” “ Rise, my poor girl. I am not mistaken ; but I fear you are. You are another of the women of whom he has made dupes.” Betty rose with a dignity you would hardly have supposed her capable of. “You do me an injustice, sir, as well as him,” she said proudly. And then her re- serve gave way, and, in defence of the man she loved, she poured out the whole of her poor love-story. She spoke in a low but distinct voice, and told how her gratitude had ripened into love ; and how kindly and tenderly this man, whom Gervase hated, and who might have deceived her had he chosen, had saved her from a false position, and had checked the foolish passion she had enter- tained. They were homely and simple words she used, but they impressed Gervase with their truthfulness none the less for that. One confidence deserved another. Gervase A BENT IN THE CLOUDS. 137 told Betty so much of his story as to let her see that he supposed Edward Griffin guilty of cruelly wronging a woman ; and at that Betty fired up. “ No, sir. What you tell me makes Inc sure you are mistaken. I don’t think Ed- ward Griffin would do an injury to a man ; I know he would not to a woman.” Gervase shook his head. “ Does she say so ? ” Gervase shook his head again. “ Oh, sir, I wish you would tell me all. I know there is some mistake. Think what a wretched reflection it would be to know you had done him a wrong never to be atoned for when he did not deserve it of you.” Gervase was beginning to melt, and Betty could see it. “ Will you go and see him again, sir, and tell him why you mean to be revenged on him ? I’m sure he will be able to clear it up. Or — do you know where she is ? — let her see him, and say if he is the man.” “ I will go and see him again,” said Gervase at last. 138 THE LOST LINE. “ Thank you, sir. Thank you from my heart ! ” And before Geryase knew what she was doing, Betty had seized his hand, and covered it with kisses. Betty went home radiant now. But she did not go home before she had called on old Levinson, and made him take her to see Griffin. In a few hurried words she ex- plained what she had done, and what Gervase Lane’s hatred rose from. “ I know nothing about it, Betty. You are right ; there is some fatal mistake, and I believe I can clear it up. How can I thank yon?" “ You saved my life.” “And you give me back hope and life, too, Betty.” ( 139 ) CHAPTER IX. WHEREIN DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. T)ETTY’S visit disturbed the serenity of ^ Gervase’s mind, and made him spend an uncomfortable night. She was like an awakening of conscience to him, and in- duced him to reflect on the course he was taking. And when he calmly reviewed it he did not feel quite so satisfied with himself as he had done before. He could no longer close his eyes to the fact that in his scheme of vengeance he had not scrupled to descend to conduct of the very meanest description. If Griffin had done all of which he suspected him, there was no justification for the adop- tion of such unworthy means to punish him. All this forced itself upon Gervase now, and he could no longer evade the conviction 140 THE LOST LINK. that he was acting dishonourably. Hatred of the very deepest had possessed his heart, and filled it with all evil passions ; but he had never been able to still the voice of conscience entirely, though he had refused to listen to it. He had avoided Bartlett for the same reason that he had avoided reflection. How, however, when Betty’s earnestness had someivhat shaken his confidence, he awoke to the full perception of the cruel injustice and treachery into which he had allowed himself to be betrayed. Her warning voice echoed and re-echoed — what atonement could he make, supposing he should discover, when too late, that he had suffered this man to be punished unjustly, a man who had done nothing to deserve his vengeance — when, moreover, it was his duty to do all he could to save him ? Gervase had a high and honourable esti- mate of the duties of his profession. It had been his comfort and consolation in very dark and dreary hours, and out of gratitude, if not for love of it, he devoted DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAE. 141 liimself to it zealously, and delighted to do it honour. He would not admit that it was a whit less solemn or serious than the sister professions of divinity and medicine. Like the priest and the doctor, the barrister — so Gervase asserted, and Bartlett, though he smiled at his eagerness of assertion, ad- mitted he was right— the barrister has an important trust confided to him, which he should endeavour to perform as conscien- tiously and completely as if it were the cure of soul or body. He had felt that he was betraying this trust, and proving himself unworthy of his profession. But he had stifled all remorse, so bent was lie upon avenging Mary’s wrongs. There was nothing that he would not sacrifice for her, and the more precious the sacrifice the more pleasing to the self- torturing, despairing love which consumed him. But now when he began to doubt whether he was correct in his surmises as to Grif- fin’s guilt, he had time to look around him and to estimate his own position. He shud- 142 THE LOST LINK. dered to think whither his vengeful frenzy had hurried him, and he formed a truer esti- mate of his own conduct. It was calculated to stain the purity of poor Mary’s cause in- stead of avenging her wrongs, and she would feel that he had paid her but an ill compli- ment in sacrificing honour and justice to her. He must do nothing to disgrace her champion. Perplexed by a thousand conflicting thoughts and emotions, poor Gervase spent but a troubled night. He tossed from side to side, staring at the darkness with weary but sleepless eyes. Hour after hour he counted the chimes — the sonorous clangour of St. Paul’s and the myriad voices of all the steeples of London distinctly heard amid the silence of night. Slowly the darkness faded, and as the grey of dawn crept im- perceptibly through the sky, the window shaped itself out of the gloom, and by and by the tall buildings became visible across the Walk. And then, when morning at last came, waking a faint stir of life — the fall of footsteps, and the early cries of London — DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 143 Gervase fell into an uneasy slumber. His physical powers needed rest, but bis mind still continued to busv itself with the diffi- fJ culties that had made sleep a stranger, and the result was that he awoke feverish and unrefreshed when Mrs. Gaffy came to call him. He rose from his bed at once, as a man would escape from a prison, and no wonder, for it had been a place of torture to him. When he went into his sitting room he found a letter from Mary. He opened it eagerly. “ My dear friend,” it said, “ the news you tell me is very, very strange. I can hardly believe it is not a dream, it seems so extra- ordinary a coincidence that he should have been thrown in your way thus. But your letter makes me tremble. You cannot surely mean to carry out your threat. Vengeance is not ours — poor fallible mortals that we are ! — and least of all should we seek it at the cost of truth and justice. Oh, Gervase, he has done us both a bitter wrong, but it would only make me more wretched, would only intensify the desolation I feel, to 144 THE LOST LINK. think that, owing to him, you had swerved even a hair’s breadth from the path of honour and rectitude. “But I believe I need not* say this. I know you so well that I feel sure the bitter animosity which made you write as you did has long since given way to calm reflection, and you have dismissed, as unworthy of you, the thoughts which your anger suggested. “ I wish it were possible to clear up some of the mystery which hangs about him. But of course that is out of the question. He would not tell you — do you think lie would ? One thing at least you might discover — whether he was married, as the detective seemed to hint. It would be a great relief to my mind if you could learn that for me. Do you mind ? I hardly like to ask you, for I know you must wish to avoid him all you can — but you have offered to make a greater sacrifice for my sake, so I take courage to ask this of your friendship. “ I still seem to be in a dream. It is so strange — so very strange. “ But whatever you do, do not, I implore DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 145 you, carry out tlie plan of vengeance you propose. I should never forgive myself if I thought that for my sake you had even for a moment done yourself so great a wrong. — Yours ever, “ Mary.” Mary’s letter lent additional weight to the arguments of Betty and the voice of Ger- vase’s own conscience. “ Poor girl, you love me still as I love you, and you are thinking only of me. But your tender nature could never entertain the bitter passion of revenge. Poor dear Mary ! ” And with that Gervase kissed the letter and locked it away in his desk. Then, with a lighter heart than he had known for some time, he sat down to breakfast. A better appetite than usual waited on a better con- science, and he did justice to the meal. It may seem sadly unromantic to record that one’s hero had recovered his power of consuming eggs and bacon ; that his choco- late had an unaccustomed relish, and that he “ crowned the edifice ” with some marma- lade. But truth, you see, is unromantic. 146 THE LOST LINK. Tlie most fond of lovers must eat. If men have died and worms have eaten them, but not for love, still less for love have men died by starvation. I don’t say that affection does not play tricks with appetite ; but only that it does not influence it seriously. Ger- vase did not leave off eating on account of disappointed love, any more than he left off washing his face or pulling on his boots. But he certainly did his breakfast more jus- tice when his mind was more at rest. Breakfast over, he filled his pipe, and sat down to smoke and meditate. He had to map out his course afresh, and he was anxious to do it carefully, for there were many difficulties before him. His first step of course would be to visit Griffin again. All would depend, to a very great extent, on the result of his interview with him. If he should turn out not to be the husband of Mary, the whole aspect of affairs was changed ; but if he should confess that he was, a very difficult course lay before him, with strong temptations and severe trials. DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 147 The sooner lie set this question to rest the better. So he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, took his hat, and set forth to visit his client. Edward Griffin had scarcely had more sleep than Gervase, but it was not because he was troubled. The dawn of a new hope made the night like day for him. He longed for morning, and waited with feverish im- patience for Gervase’ s arrival. The two met as men meet who may have to cross swords in mortal combat the next moment. They eyed each other eagerly and curiously. Gervase broke silence first. “ I come to see you at the earnest en- treaty of a friend of yours.” “ Betty. I know it, sir. She came here yesterday, and she gave me reason to hope ” “ Hope nothing ! Let us be plain. I believed — and as yet I scarce know how to disbelieve it, in spite of your friend’s pro- testations — that you have done to me, and what is worse, to a dear friend of mine, a 148 THE LOST LINK. wrong that you can never atone for. I in- tended to make you drink to the very dregs the bitterest cup of revenge I could prepare for you. But the woman you wronged — if you are the man I believe you to be — has interceded for you. I shall at least do nothing to injure you.” Griffin gave a sigh of relief. “ But,” continued Gervase, “ I expect, in return for this mercy, that you will not con- ceal the truth ” “ There is nothing to conceal, sir. You are labouring under some mistake. Tell me what it is that you believe I have done.” “ Ask your own conscience. Is there no woman whom you have deeply wronged — irretrievably wronged ? ” “ None, that I have wilfully wronged. My poor wife ” “ Your wife ! You were married, then ? ” “Yes, sir. I was married years ago — poor soul ! she has suffered, no doubt ; but I never wronged her wilfully ; though, as the wife of a convict, she must have had a hard fate to struggle with.” DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 149 “ You never married — or went, rather, through the form of marrying another woman ? ” “ Never, sir ! ” Gervase looked at him searcliingly. The man seemed to be speaking the truth. “ Do you know Southstone-on-the-Sea ? ” “ Yes, I do.” “ You have been there ? ” “ I have been near it, but I have never been there. I have never been nearer than a place called Bartle, some miles from there.” “ Do you know a lady of the name of Bellisham ? ” “ I have never heard the name, that I am aware of, sir.” This was strange. Griffin seemed to be speaking the truth ; and yet the story which Mole warp had related, as well as what Ger- vase had learnt from Mary herself, tallied exactly and seemed to point to this man. Could he be deceiving him ? “ Look you here, Griffin ; this is a question of life and death to me. I have told you I will not raise a finger against you under any hi. L 150 THE LOST LINK. circumstances. I will go further still. I cannot undertake your defence if you are the man I suppose ; it will be better for you I should not, for I should not conduct it with the spirit and will necessary for it ; I could not. But I will place all the evidence I have collected in Levinson’s hands for you. But in return for this you must speak the truth without reservation.” “ I have told you the truth. If you pro- mised me my freedom this very instant I could not tell you more.” “ The evidence I have is strong against you.” “ For God’s sake ! sir, don’t talk to me about evidence being strong against me. It always has been, though, as I hope to be saved, I am innocent of the crimes brought against me. I have been a victim all my life, sir, to evidence that has been strong against me. What is this evidence ? ” “ Evidence that you, under an assumed name and title, while residing at Southstone, married a young lady of the name of Bel- lisham ; but that, on the morning of the DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 151 wedding, having in some way learned that the police were on your track (you managed to escape from Dartmoor), you disappeared.” “ There’s not a word of truth in it, sir. Who told you this ? ” “ Mole warp.” “ That man ! He has been my bitter enemy all my life, sir. It was he who got up the evidence by which I was convicted of a robbery of which I was as innocent as you are. I can’t tell why he does it, but he has hunted me down ever since. It is false, sir, every word of what he has told you. When did this happen ? ” Gervase gave him the date. “ It is impossible, sir. I was living in London then. The woman I lodged with could prove that — if she would,” he added, despondingly. “ Why shouldn’t she ? ” “ Because this Molewarp has got hold of her. She came down to a place where I was at work, in order to identify me for him. She is one of his witnesses — the one that swears to the handkerchief.” l 2 152 THE LOST LINK. “ I will question her, at any rate. What is she?” cc A Mrs. Gaffy, a widow woman ” “ Gaffy ! I wonder whether she is my laundress. I did not notice the name in the brief, but if she is, I can learn the truth from her.” “ Then she will tell you I was lodging with her at the time you name, sir.” Gervase went back to his chambers at once, promising to see Griffin again as soon as he had made the necessary inquiries. It so happened that on his return to his cham- bers he found Molewarp waiting to see him with reference to the murder case in which Gervase held a brief for the Crown. Molewarp was desirous to show an in- timate knowledge of law whenever he ap- peared in court, and he was anxious to get posted up on one or two important points in this case. He was particularly civil and cringing, therefore, in order to induce Ger- vase to give him the necessary information. Gervase told him what he wanted to know, ana then, offering him a glass of sherry, began DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 153 to chat upon indifferent matters, coming round, at last, to Griffin’s case. “ By the way, Molewarp, I have heard from my friends, the Bellisliams, who are naturally anxious, if possible, to get clear of this fellow. They want me to see how it can be done. You’re sure this is the man ? ” “ Oh, quite sure, sir.” “Ah, I thought so. You had traced him down to the place. What place was it, by the way ? ” “ Southstone, sir, in Beaveshire. Oh, yes, I’d traced him down there. I’d found out that after he got out of Dartmoor he took the name of Lewis — Charles Lewis. I knew that for certain. I needn’t tell you how I came to be certain. Well, I missed him not very far from Southstone. I kept my eyes and ears open, for he regularly threw me off the scent there — oh, an artful cove, if ever there was one! Well, sir, keeping my eyes open, it fell permiscuous on a county paper, and there I saw, under tlie head of Southstone-on-tlie-Sea, a little paragraph about ‘ the approaching nufshalls of Sir 154 THE LOST LINK. Charles Lewis and a young lady who, etcet- terer.’ That’s my man, says I, and down I goes. But, lo and behold ! my bird was flown — the Rogue’s Telegraph was too sharp for me for once.” “ Then, you did not see him — you only surmised he was the man ? ” “ Only surmised ? Well, sir, the evidence, as you see, both before and after, left no room for surmising.” “ True. Well, I’m obliged to you, Mr. Mole- warp. We shall fight this case, you know, you and I — I mean the Dover business. But when he’s acquitted on that score — ah, I’m determined he shall be, so don’t shake your head — I shall want your help to set this marriage aside for my friend.” “ With pleasure, sir. Good morning. But he’ll get it hot for that Dover business, sir. You can’t save him.” “ We’ll see. Good morning.” When Molewarp was gone, Gervase turned over in his mind the information he had just gathered. Molewarp’s assertion, sifted down, did not. amount to anything more than DIFFICULTIES BEGIN TO DISAPPEAR. 155 guesses and random conclusions ; drawn, to be sure, in some instances, fairly enough, but only conjectures at best. His next object was to see Mrs. Gaffy. He had looked at the brief, and saw the name was the same, and thought it well to ask his laundress before going off to the address given in the evidence. So when Mrs. Gaffy came in during the afternoon, she found Gervase reading before the fire. “ Curious coincidence, Mrs. Gaffy. I was just reading a name like yours when you came in.” “ Lor, sir. Well, that’s curus, too ! ” “ Yes, it is. Here you are in this brief — £ Jane Gaffy, widow, deposes ’ — is that you? ” ££ Why, lor, sir — it might be, for sure enough I am in a case, sir, as hevidence through letting lodgings.” ££ To a man called Lewis ? ” ££ That’s him, sir. Dear now, to think as you’re engaged in it, too ! ” ££ Yes, it is odd. How long did he lodge with you ? ” 156 THE LOST LINK. “ 01), a long time, sir.” “You never thought he was going to turn out in this style ? ” “ Never, sir. Blesh yer, he was werry steady and reglar, and paid punkshal down, to within a week as he owed, when he bolted.” Gervase put a few more questions, and then quietly asked if Lewis was at her lodgings on a certain date — the date of Mary’s marriage. “ Oh, yes, sir. Never was away from ’ome a night, nor yet for more than working hours during the day — partikler steady he was — all the time he was with me.” Gervase was beginning to believe Griffin’s story now. He saw the weakness of the chain of evidence Molewarp had forged, and he saw the force of Mrs. Gaffy’s testimony. The evidence proved that Griffin was the man who had escaped from Dartmoor, that he was the man who was suspected of having committed the burglary at Dover, that he was the man who had lodged with Mrs. Gaffy. But it failed to prove — indeed, on DIFFICULTIES BECFST TO DISAFPEAR. 157 the contrary, it disproved Molewarp’s theory that this was the man who had married Mary. The very witness who established the identity of Molewarp’s escaped convict with Griffin, by swearing to the handkerchief and to him, proved with equal certainty that he could not have been at Soutlistone at the time when Mary was married. There was some complication here that needed a little investigation. He meditated for a while, and then the solution began to shape itself. If it was not hopeful for him, at least it would be a great relief for Mary. For he saw now that the only ground for supposing she was the wife of an escaped convict was Molewarp’s assertion, and that was disproved at once. Who her husband really was, and why and how he had so sud- denly disappeared, remained a mystery still ; but a mystery was better than the belief that she was Griffin’s wife. He determined to go at once to Brighton and tell the better tidings to Mary with his own lips. ( 158 ) CHAPTER X. THE STOKY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. B EFORE lie started for Brighton, Gervase paid a visit to his friend Bartlett. “ Come at last, eh, young ’un ? ” said the latter, looking up from his papers. “ I thought you had retired altogether.” “ I have been very busy, old boy, puzzling over a most difficult matter.” “ I came over once or twice, but as the oak was perpetually sported, I thought you’d gone into the country.” “ No, I haven’t been away, but I wanted to be quiet.” “ What’s the matter ? — have you been offered a seat on the Woolsack, or has some enterprising publisher engaged you to write a book upon the statutes at large ? ” THE STORY OF A THOUSAND FOUNDS. 159 “ Neither ; hut chance has thrown a case into my way, and it turned out, as I at first thought, that my client was the fellow who entrapped Mary into a marriage. But, on inquiry and investigation, this does not seem to be the case. What is more, I begin to think that the whole story of her having married an escaped convict is some curious blunder of Molewarp’s.” “ Why curious ? Don’t you know that those ingenious fellows, the detectives, have a fatal weakness for constructing booby- traps for themselves ? Your over-ingenious people are always blundering elaborately.” “Very likely. However, in order to satisfy my doubts on the point, I’m off to Brighton, to see Mary.” “Well, it will be good news for her; for it must have been a disagreeable delusion to think she was the wife of a felon. But I suppose she is still married — so you don’t take much by your discovery.” “ She is still married — and, what is more strange, her husband has disappeared, and has never been heard of since the wedding- 1G0 THE LOST LINK. day. That’s a mystery that will still need solving. But the fact that she is not the wife of an escaped convict is something ! ” “ When do you start for Brighton ? ” “ This afternoon.” “ London Bridge ? ” “ Yes.” “ I’ll go with you. I want to go ‘ East- ward ho ! ’ My sister is seized with a desire for a parrot, and I’m going down to see if I can pick one up for her about the docks.” “ Well, I’ll call for you when I’m ready to start. I have one or two things to see to first.” Gervase paid a hurried visit to Griffin, and told him that so far he had found his story confirmed. He was going to Brighton to obtain further information, and would return in a day or so. In the meantime, if Griffin’s conscience could assure him he was not guilty of the act with which he had charged him, he might rest assured that his defence should be conducted with all the skill and care that could be bestowed on it. Returning to the Temple, Gervase packed THE STORY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. 161 a few tilings in a carpet-bag, and calling for Bartlett, set out for London Bridge. On the 1 way lie explained more at length to his friend all the circumstances of the case, which so interested Bartlett that he wanted to see the brief. “ You haven’t got it in that bag, have you ? ” he asked. “ No ; I’ve left it at my chambers. But look here, I’ll give you the key of my oak, and you can go over and find it.” “ All right, I will ; and if I see any points. I’ll take a note of ’em for you.” “ Thanks. Here we part, I suppose. You don’t want to cross the bridge ? ” “ No. Good-bye, young ’un. All success.” “ Thanks, old boy. Good-bye.” In a few minutes Gervase was being whisked towards Brighton at express speed. It seemed slow to him, for he was longing to see Mary once more. It was not without a feeling of nervousness that he sent in his name when he reached the hotel, and you may rest assured that Mary was seized with a tremor of mixed 162 THE LOST LINK. emotions wlien she heard who it was that wished to see her. The meeting was a painful one at first ; for each could see how the other had suf- fered. But in a short time the feeling wore off, and they were more at ease. It was like a return to old times again. “ I have good news for you, Mary.” She shook her head, doubtingly. “ No. It is no mistake. I have good news for you. Can you bear a surprise?” “ Oh, yes. What is it ? Is it about — about him ? ” “Yes, about the man whom you suppose to be your husband.” “ Suppose ? Oh, then this is not the same ” “ The same that the detective believed him to be ? Yes, he is.” “ But not my — husband.” “ No. Be prepared, Mary. Molewarp has fallen into some confusion. As far as I can discover, there is no ground for sup- posing your husband to be an escaped convict at all ! ” THE STORY OE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 168 “ Impossible. Ob, that is too good news ! How did vou learn this ? ” •/ “ I have questioned Molewarp. Griffin is beyond a doubt the man lie is in search of — the man who escaped from Dartmoor ; and he is the man who, he believes, married you. But the evidence of one of Molewarp’ s own witnesses places it beyond a doubt that at the time when you were married, Griffin was living in London, and never quitted it for a day even.” “ Then all this was based upon the mere conjecture of the policeman. Good Heavens, what have I suffered ! and all for a mere fancy.” “ Oh, he shall pay for it, take my word for it. I will set him in the right light — this active and intelligent officer ! ” “ Oh, Gervase, what a lucky discovery ! Think how terribly you would have suffered if you had done as you proposed, and wronged an innocent man ! ” “ It is, indeed, fortunate ; but there still remains a mystery to clear up. It is not a mere conjecture of Molewarp’s that you were 164 THE LOST LINK. married, and tliat your liusband disappeared on your wedding-day.” “Alas! no. It is too sadly true.” “ That mystery must be solved. Do you know that you never told me what your name is ? ” “ I did not know myself — at least I sup- posed I did not, for the detective told mamma that the name under which my husband married me was a false one, so I took her maiden name. But he was Sir Charles Lewis — or at least he passed as Sir Charles Lewis.” “ I cannot think why, but there is some- thing* very familiar to me in that name — at least I seem to recall it in connection with something peculiar ; but perhaps after all I may have been told at some time or other what your husband’s name was. Have you a likeness ? ” “Mamma has one in a bracelet.” “ I must borrow it of her for a time. How is she ? I hope her marriage is a happy one — for her husband, at all events.” “ Gervase, you are too severe. Poor THE STORY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. 165 mamma has repented bitterly of the past, and is quite an altered woman. She is an excellent wife.” “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I feared that she had married for money or position — love was out of the question.” “ Perhaps ; but mutual regard and esteem are not impossible, Gervase.” “You are right, Mary. Are they in ? ” “ Yes. Would you like to see them ? Mr. Flossett knows the circumstances of my un- happy marriage, so you can speak unre- servedly before him.” Mr. and Mrs. Flossett] were in the act of taking lunch when Mary introduced Gervase. They insisted on his sitting down, and as he had tasted nothing since breakfast, he was not slow in doing so. Mrs. Flossett was amiability itself, and seemed determined to overcome Gervase’ s dislike. He saw she was much improved, and was, especially after what Mary had told him, not disinclined to be reconciled and shake hands. Old Flossett was hospitable and chirpy. ITI. M 166 THE LOST LINK. He was full of anecdotes of distinguished lawyers, which he produced as a compliment to Gervase. "When luncheon was over, Gervase repeated to Mrs. Flossett the good news he had al- ready told to Mary. “ Mrs. Flossett, I am glad to tell you that I have had the good fortune to obtain an opportunity of investigating the story about Mary’s marriage. I have by chance been engaged to defend the man who you thought had married her. It turns out to be a mis- take. The detective who came to see you was in search of the man I am to defend. He judged him to be the man who married Mary, only on circumstantial evidence, which, I must admit, was pretty strong. But I have found out, and can prove beyond a doubt, that my client was never out of London at that time.” “Oh, Mr. Lane, what a load you have taken off my mind ! I don’t know how I shall thank you.” “ You can help me to clear up the mystery still further. We have yet to discover who THE STORY OP A THOUSAND POUNDS. 167 Mary’s husband really was, or is, and why be so strangely disappeared. Mary tells me you have a portrait. Will you lend it me ? ” “ To be sure. Do you think you’ll be able to find out ? ” “Have you anything else that will help us?” “ Nothing that I can think of.” ' “ How did you become acquainted with him ? ” “ By accident,” said Mrs. Flossett, blush- ing, as my readers will possibly remember she had some cause to do. “ But — pardon me — surely you did not consent to your daughter marrying a chance acquaintance. Did you know nothing further about him ? ” “No, Mr. Lane; foolish and wicked as I was, I was not so bad as that. He referred me to his bankers.” “ And they were ? ” “ Winslow and Jones.” “ And you did not write to them after you heard from the detective what he was ? ” “ I wished to avoid all exposure and m 2 168 THE LOST LINK. scandal. Besides, the detective told me he had probably forged the letter. You see, appearances were so strong that I could not help believing the policeman.” “We can soon see whether the letter is a forgery. I know old Jones, and will enquire of him.” “ Dear, dear ! How soon a mystery clears up when a clever man takes it in hand ? We women believe things too readily. That de- tective completely deceived me. He seemed so certain, that I never suspected it was only guess work.” “ Oh, Molewarp would impose upon any one, he assumes such an air of superior intelligence.” “ Molewarp ! ” broke in Mr. Flossett. “ Oh, come ! Molewarp, Mr. Lane, is a very smart officer. I had a good deal to do with him at one time, and I could not but admire his acuteness ; though to be sure, as it has turned out since, we were all of us wrong. But he was a clever fellow.” “ Too clever, Mr. Flossett. It’s a mis- fortune that very often befalls such men. THE STOEY OE A THOUSAND POUNDS. 169 For instance, in this very case I have to de- fend he has brought a wonderful string of circumstances to convict my man ; but there is just one link wanting — and I can supply it — and it will acquit my man.” “ Yes, yes. But we are all liable to mistakes.” “ But it is hard for those who have to suffer for them. This poor fellow might be condemned for an offence of which he is innocent — ” “ Will you change the subject, please ? ” broke in sharply Mr. Flossett, who had evidently not relished the latter part of the conversation. “ Certainly, sir. I did not wish to argue with you, but was rather aiming my con- demnation at myself. I have but escaped by a hair’s breadth from doing the very thing I was deprecating. I was nearly letting an innocent man suffer in this way. Poor Griffin has had a narrow escape.” Mr. Flossett jumped as if he had been electrified. “ What is the meaning of this, Mr. Lane ? 170 THE LOST LINK. Is this a plot to surprise me into admissions damaging to myself? I won’t submit to it. Be good enough to say no more.” “ Mr. Flossett, I am quite at a loss to understand you.” “ My dear F.,” expostulated Mrs. Flossett. “ What have you got to do with Griffin ? ” asked the old man. “ He is my client, sir — the man erro- neously believed to have married Mary, and now accused of committing a burglary of which he is innocent.” “ God bless me ! It’s .very strange. What is his Christian name ? ” “ Edward.” “ Good Heavens ! Tell me, do you know anything of his previous history ? ” “ He is stated to be an escaped convict from Dartmoor. He says he was not guilty of the robbery he was then condemned for, and declares Molewarp has been his implacable foe throughout.” “ A robbery — Molewarp ! ” “ I’m half inclined to believe him, seeing how this fellow Molewarp seems to blunder.” THE STORY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. 171 “ Mr. Lane, on your honour as a gentle- man, you will not repeat what I am going to tell you ? ” “ I will not.” “ If this Griffin be the man I suppose him to be, speaking the truth — he is in- nocent.” “ How ? ” “ I know all about it. He was my clerk, and was found guilty of robbing me. He was my confidential clerk, and served me well and faithfully. At last I found on several occasions that I lost money, which I had locked away in a drawer of my desk. The safe was downstairs ; and I was — I con- fess to my shame — not a very business-like man. I used to put notes away in my drawer. They disappeared. At last I lost a thousand pounds at once. This was se- rious ; so I called in Molewarp, who, after some enquiry, took Griffin into custody. He was tried and found guilty, protesting his innocence to the last. I was sorry to think how I had been deceived in him, but in time had almost forgotten all about it, when 172 THE LOST LINK. that confounded railway came and took my offices. I had to turn out bag and baggage. Imagine my horror when I found that, after all, the notes were not lost ; they were in my desk. It was one of those pedestal desks ; the drawer in which I put the notes was the top one. The desk had seen long service, and was much knocked about. The notes must have got caught at the back of the drawer, and had slipped down behind, be- tween a sort of false back there was to the side containing the drawers and the back of the cupboard on the other side. In moving the ramshackle old thing, the false back came out ; and there, with a number of other documents and papers that I had lost for years, was the missing note for a thousand pounds, with one or two others. Of course, I was terribly distressed. I was afraid to let the discovery be known, for fear of Griffin’s taking proceedings against me for perjury or false imprisonment. I tried to place myself in communication with him, but I found he had escaped from Dartmoor. And that’s all I know about him, except that I met him T1IE STORY OF A THOUSAND POUNDS. 173 once on Blackfriars Bridge, wlien he ran away from me.” “ That man must be saved, Mr. Flossett. You won’t allow him to suffer any longer unjustly ? ” “ If you’re quite sure it’s safe. You must get an undertaking from him that he won’t do anything ” “ Pshaw ! This is childish, sir. Leave it in my hands.” “Very well; very well.” In an hour’s time Gervase was speeding back to London. ( 174 ) CHAPTER XI. WHEREIN SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. G ERYASE reached town late in the even- ing, and proceeded at once to his chambers, in King’s Bench Walk, utterly oblivious — in the bewilderment of his latest discovery — that he had given Bartlett the key of his oak when he left him in the morn- ing. He had nearly reached his door when the thought occurred to him. “ By Jove, I’d forgotten old B. has my key. I must go over to his rooms and get it — I suppose Mrs. Gaffy isn’t about.” As he turned the corner of the stairs he saw the oak was not shut close. Either Bartlett was there now, or had been there, and had forgotten to shut the oak after him ; or Mrs. Gaffy was within. He pushed the door open, and walked in. SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 175 It so chanced, however, that Bartlett had not been to Gervase’s rooms. He had found a desirable parrot in his wanderings, and had purchased it, and taken it away to his sister. He was so seldom a visitor at home now- a- days, that his mother and sisters made him stay for the day. "When he returned to his chambers in the evening he put his hand into his pocket for his latch-key, and found Gervase’s there. Then he recalled his talk with his friend, and as he did not feel in- clined to settle down to any hard work of his own after the day’s holiday, he thought he would step over to Gervase’s room, fetch the brief he spoke of, and read it over with his cigar. He could see, as he crossed the quadrangle, that Gervase had not returned, for there was no light in the windows ; in- deed he did not expect him home for a day or so. As he approached the oak, to his surprise he found it standing open. There was no light within. Before he had time to think what could be the meaning of this, he heard an exclamation — the sound of a blow and a 176 THE LOST LINK. fall — and then somebody came hurriedly out of the rooms. Bartlett stood aside, until he saw, by the dim light of the staircase lamp, that the person who made this hasty exit from Gervase’s rooms was a person who clearly had no right in them. He was a short, wiry-looking fellow, with a corduroy suit, and yellow belcher neckerchief, a flash, know- ing-looking cap, and two sleek curls, one on either cheek. He was, in fact, a rough, and Bartlett knew a rough by sight well enough, thanks to his experience at the bar. Bartlett was standing a little in the shade of the door, so that the rough did not see him. He was not long in deciding on what course to pursue. As the fellow passed, he let out a straight one from his left shoulder, which, coming with considerable force on the ruffian’s organ of combativeness, knocked all the fight out of him in a second. The rascal dropped as if he had been shot. Bart- lett bent over him, and saw he was not likely to recover his senses for a minute, so he stepped to the staircase window, opened it, SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 177 and called “ Police ” vigorously. He had the satisfaction of seeing a figure almost immediately cross from one of the passages opposite — a figure with a shiny-top to its hat and a cape. In another minute a policeman made his appearance on the landing. Bartlett hastily recounted to him what had happened. The constable turned the prostrate ruffian over with his foot. “ Oh, I’ve seen ’im before. He’s well known, he is, sir!” he said with an air of great confidence, as he slipped the hand- cuffs on. “ Lend me your lantern — I heard some one fall inside — he may have injured Mr. Lane,” said Bartlett. The policeman handed him his bull’s-eye, and Bartlett entered the chambers. And there sure enough lay Gfervase just inside the door. He was recovering consciousness, so Bartlett lifted him on to the sofa and lit the gas. “ Hullo, Gervase, my boy, much hurt ? What’s all this about?” 178 THE LOST LINK. “Yes,” said Gervase, in a faint voice, and with a confused air, “What’s all this about ? ” Bartlett fetched some water and bathed his friend’s face, and presently Gervase began to recover himself. “ Have I been like this long ? ” he asked. “ Ho, not very. How did it happen ? ” “Why, I came here and found the oak unsported, and thought yon were inside, so I walked in and found it was dark — and be- fore I knew where I was, somebody jumped up from behind the table and gave me a blow on the head — that’s all I know.” “ Then, I’ll tell you the rest. By good luck, I happened to come up just as you were knocked down, and as your assailant was bolting, I met him on the stairs and gave him a scientific tap behind the ear, that effectually quieted him for some minutes.” By this time the rascal outside had begun to come to himself again, and the policeman was heard explaining matters to him, and recommending him to “ go quietly .” The advice seemed to make an impression on the SUCKER SAM PATS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 179 fellow, for, after a good deal of growling and swearing, lie became so far obedient as to allow himself to be led into Gervase’ s rooms. “Gent not hinjured much, I ’ope, sir?” said the constable. “ No, thank you, not much — just a bit shaken,” said Gervase, turning on his elbow. Then, recognising the prisoner, he said, “ Oh, it’s you, is it? Very well, my friend, you’ve only saved Wigley the trouble of fetching you.” The burglar growled out something un- intelligible. “ He says it’s your fault, sir ; you shouldn’t ’ave ’ad ’im ’ere, ’e says, sir,” explained the constable. “ This is the fellow who committed the burglary Griffin stands charged with. I got Wigley the detective to bring him here the other day, because I wished to ask him a few questions, and I suppose he thought he’d pay me another visit with some more in- formation, eh ? ” said Gervase to Bartlett. Another growl from the prisoner, trans- lated by the constable to mean that he would 180 THE LOST LINK. see Gervase in a very tropical clime before he’d tell him anything that would criminate himself. “ Thank you,” said Gervase, and then feeling a chilly draught he added, “ Shut the door, policeman, will you please ? ” “ Door is shut, sir ! ” “ Then where the deuce does the draught come from ? — oh ! I see. Your old game, Mr. Sucker Sam ! ” and Gervase pointed to the window. A pane had been removed. The constable walked to the window, opened it and looked out. There was a pipe running under it and also under the stair- case window. It was evident that the burglar had got out of the latter — made his way along the pipe, and effected an entry. “ You’ll find a glazier’s diamond in his pocket, constable,” said Gervase. The constable searched, and found the article. “ All right, sir. I’ll take and lock ’im up, and I dessay you’ll call round in the mornin’, sir, when you’re a bit better o’ that rap o’ the head, and sign the sheet.” SUCKED SAM I>AYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 181 “ Yes ; but come back here when you’ve locked him up.” And the constable as- sented, for he knew it was to get his reward. “ Lucky it was no worse, young ’un,” said Bartlett, when the constable and his prisoner were gone. “ Well, I’ve only got a bump as big as an egg on the top of my head, B. But it might have been a hole instead ; so, perhaps, it is better as it is. I’m very glad the rogue’s caught, for I can turn him to good account now.” “ He was tempted by these things,” said Bartlett, who had found a bundle in the staircase window, had brought it in, and, opening it, had found in it two or three pewters and a silver cup that used to stand upon Gervase’s mantelpiece. “ Very likely,” said Gervase. “I re- member he stared about him a good deal, but I did not think at the time it was any worse vice than curiosity.” Bartlett looked to see if anything else was missing. He found that the fellow had also made up a bundle of spoons and forks, and in. N 182 THE LOST LINK. a little clock. This bundle, with a dark lantern, and a life-preserver, was found lying on the further side of the table. “ I fancy he had taken his first bundle out, and was returning for the second when you came and disturbed him. It’s lucky he didn’t hit you with this thing ! I wonder how he came not to use it. Perhaps he knocked you down with your own spoons.” Gervase soon shook off the effects of the blow, and he and Barlett, after discussing the burglary, drifted into a chat about Griffin’s case and the new light thrown on his story by Mr. Plossett. “ He was always an ass, that old Plossett. Fancy his letting an innocent man suffer — rot in jail for all he knows — because he’s afraid to tell the truth unless he has an in- demnity, and a discharge in full, and heaven only knows w r kat other documents to protect him from a punishment which he deserves only too richly.” “ He is rather an old fool. But he seems to be a good husband, and his wife is quite another being. So, after all, as his was an SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 183 error, not an intentional injustice, we must forgive him — he’s a nervous old woman, that’s all. He will come to town to-morrow, and in the meantime I’m to see Griffin to get him to promise he’ll take no steps, and then tell him all.” “ Well, if I were he, I’d make the old idiot pay for all the years of suffering he has caused me.” “ If you would not promise, I shouldn’t be allowed to tell you. Now then, old Can- tankerous, how do you feel ? ” “ That you’ve no business to withhold the truth — and would be compelled to tell it. Besides, I’d punch your head, young ’un.” “ It’s had quite enough of that for the present, old boy ; much obliged to you all the same.” “ True — and the sooner you get to bed the better it will be for you, so I’ll be off. Good night.” “ Good night, old boy ! ” “ I’ll come over to see if you’re all right in the morning,” said Bartlett, as he left. The next morning Gervase and Bartlett n 2 184 THE LOST LINK. went to the Police Court, where they had the pleasure of assisting at the examination of Sucker Sam. The evidence was so clear against him, that there was no hope for him, so that he was not surprised, though he was evidently disgusted to find that his protesta- tions of innocence were completely useless. He was removed to the cells in a high state of profanity and violence. Gervase’s next duty was to visit Griffin, whom he found anxiously awaiting him. “ I have better news for you than you could have ever expected, Griffin,” said Ger- vase. “ I’ve got to give over expecting good news, sir. What is it?” said the other. “ What was your employer’s name — the man whom you were accused of robbing? ” “ Mr. Plossett, sir. He was a lawyer.” “He was not a very clever lawyer, was he?” “ I don’t know, sir. He had plenty of business — agencies for people of property, and that sort of thing.” “Yes, I understand. But he was a queer customer.” SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 185 “ He was always very kind to me, and I don’t believe he would have wronged me as he did but for this fellow Molewarp.” “ Ah ! Then you bear him no malice ? ” “ No, sir. I believe he thought I had robbed him, and as I was his confidential clerk, to whom he had been always kind and generous, he was right in being strict and severe, I suppose.” “You think he was mistaken ? ” “Yes, sir.” “ And you forgive him ? ” “With all my heart.” “ He had, for a lawyer, a very curious terror of the law, had he not — was almost afraid to stir for fear of some action ? ” “ Then you know him, sir ? ” “ Well, slightly.” “ I should like him to know that I still declare I am innocent — now, when it cannot serve me to deceive him any more.” “ But, supposing he were to believe you, and was willing to assist in proving your innocence, don’t you know him well enough to feel assured he would not do anything 186 THE LOST LINK. until lie had received an understanding from you in writing not to take any steps against him for any wrong he may unintentionally have done you ? ” “ I dare say he would want something of the sort.” “ Would you sign it ? ” <£ Yes ; at once, if I thought he would ^establish my innocence.” “ Very well, then ; suppose you sign this, just as a step towards my seeing him, and asking him if he cannot help you.” Griffin looked at Gervase with curiosity. He could not understand his drift. “ Won’t you sign ? ” asked Gervase. “ Oh, yes ! I was only wondering what you mean by all this.” With that he bent down over the paper and signed it. “ Good ! ” said Gervase, “ and now I’ll tell you what I mean by all this. I mean that your old employer, Mr. Flossett, has reason to believe — indeed to be certain — that you are innocent.” Griffin gave a great gasp, as if he had just SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 187 begun to breathe after being under water for a long period. “ More than this,” continued Gervase, “he is prepared with proofs of your innocence. He will be here to-day to see you.” Poor Griffin sank down overpowered. Plinging himself on his bed, he gave way altogether, and sobbed like a child. Gervase left him to himself, which was the kindest thing that could be done. And the poor fellow sobbed himself to sleep like a tired child. In the afternoon Gervase returned with Mr. Flossett. The meeting between the old man and his former clerk was very touching, for Flossett had a heart after all — and as he had, besides, got the indemnity safe in his pocket, he could have no reason to be re- served. He asked pardon of his old servant very humbly, and explained the curious way in which the money had been lost, and the manner of its discovery. “ Why did you run away, Griffin, when I met you on Blackfriars Bridge?” he asked, 188 THE LOST LINK. when the first part of the business had been settled. “ You remember, sir, I was an escaped convict. When I saw you wanted to stop me I at once suspected that you intended to deliver me up to the nearest police- man, and freedom was precious, so I ran away.” “Ah, I see. Well, it was curious ! I had been down to see an old friend who lay dying — I’d retired from my business, you know, Griffin, but I still looked after his affairs. I had been to see about his will and some deeds. Well, his son had behaved very badly to him — very badly. And yet he had spoken of him with warm affection and forgiveness, and made provision for him if he ever turned up to need it. This had set me thinking, Griffin, and made me heartily ashamed of myself for my conduct towards you — you, who had not behaved ill. Well, when I met you I forgot my usual caution, and was going to tell you all. I was very reckless, for do you know when you ran away I so far forgot what was prudent — SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 189 this is in confidence, remember — I was so rash as to call out ‘stop thief!’ Why, it was almost libellous. However, I could not catch you, so there was an end of it.” “ I ran away to Dover then, and that,” turning to Gervase, “ was just before the burglary.” “ Ah, by the way,” said Gervase, “ talking of burglaries, your friend Sucker Sam broke into my chambers last night while I was away. I returned before he had time to make good his escape — went into the room in the dark, and he knocked me down ; but he was luckily caught on the stairs, and he is now making himself generally pleasant in the cells. He had been tempted by some plate he saw when I sent Wigley to find him and bring him to me at my rooms.” “ God bless me ! ” said Mr. Flossett, “ I hope he hasn’t hurt you.” “ I’m sorry, sir, you should have come by this on my account,” said Griffin. “ Don’t say a word about it — it’s just what we wanted. Here’s the Simon Pure. We 190 THE LOST LINK. shall be able to put the saddle on the right horse without any difficulty.” “ We’ll see you through it safely, Griffin !” added old Flossett, as if he were also en- gaged for the defence. “ Thank you both, gentlemen,” said Griffin. “Not at all,” said Gervase, “we have both a wrong to repair.” At which Mr. Flossett appeared to be a little puzzled, but he said “Yes,” with great fervour, on his own behalf. “ Ah, sir, you can’t think what a blessing it seems to have this hope of freedom.” “ We’ll establish your innocence, Griffin, and show that there is not a spot on your character ! ” At this Griffin coloured slightly, and shook his head. “Alas, sir, that can’t be done. I was once driven to commit a small theft — be- trayed into it by my fears and my necessity when I first made my escape from prison. But I’ll tell you all about it some day, sir, and I think you’ll say it was not unpar- SUCKER SAM PAYS A VISIT, UNINVITED. 191 donable. It was nothing very serious — only some clothes.” “ For a disguise,” said Flossett, and then, quite delighted at his guess, he added, c< Oh, very natural — quite right.” ( 192 ) CHAPTER XII. WHEREIN MOLEWARP IS MELTED BY MISERY. 'll THEN Gervase and Mr. Flossett quitted ' * Griffin, they adjourned to King’s Bench Walk to discuss what step they should next take. Mr. Flossett was inclined to think that the very best thing to be done was to send for Molewarp, and explain to him that Griffin was innocent of the offence for which he was originally sentenced, and also to shew him where the evidence to be brought against the unlucky man touching the Dover burglary would also be set aside. Mr. Flossett was of opinion that when this was laid before him, Molewarp would at once drop the matter. Gervasewasnot quite so sanguine ontliis point. He knew the tenacity of the detective, and thought it more than possible they would MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 193 have some difficulty with him. For the re- velation they were about to make to him was neither more nor less than a death-blow to his reputation for acuteness and intelli- gence. Nevertheless, Gervase felt it was only right to give him the chance of retiring from his false position gracefully, so he agreed with Mr. Flossett that Molewarp should be enlightened. Gervase’s clerk was despatched in search of the detective. There was apparently little stirring in the way of crime just then, for he found Molewarp enjoying his otium cum dignitate, reading the Times, and eating walnuts. The latter is one of the occupa- tions in which the police force generally appear to take a special pride and delight. Whenever one conjures up in one’s mind the familiar idea of a policeman, it will be noticed that, as a rule, he will present himself to the mind’s eye in the act of picking and eating walnuts. The taste for this fruit may spring from the advantages it offers — it gives em- ployment for the mind as well as the body. It combines, in fact, recreation and exercise, 194 THE LOST LINK. and interests the mind while it engages the fingers. We know what Dr. Watts says about the amount of work which a nameless personage finds for idle hands to do, and I have no doubt walnut picking has a whole- some influence. It is more than possible that statistics would prove that fewer false charges, fewer cases of mistaken identity, fewer cooked-up prosecutions will be found to occur in the walnut season on this very ground ; and I beg to recommend the suggestion to the consideration of some spirited M.P. who is fond of calling for “ returns.” If my conjecture should be borne out by the facts, it might possibly be worth while to find some substitute for walnuts when they are not in, with a view to prevent scandals in the force. Perhaps the Editor of Notes and Queries, some hundred years or so hence, may have to open his columns to a learned discussion as to whether a policeman owes his slang name of “ Peeler,” to the fact that the force was founded by Sir Robert Peel, or to the walnut-picking habits of his race. I must now, however, dismiss the MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 195 question — which lies in a nutshell — and re- turn to our] friend Molewarp. On learning who it was that wished to see him, he consented with alacrity, and pro- mised to be with Mr. Lane in half an hour. And in half an hour — to the minute almost, for Molewarp was fully sensible of the value of humbug, and knew how punctuality im- poses upon people — he made his appearance at Gervase’s chambers, very rosy and shiny, having devoted his spare time to ablutions, performed in a tub, finished off with a rough towel, and conducted throughout with a great deal of hissing and blowing, as if he had been grooming a horse, instead of simply washing his own face. “ Mr. Molewarp’s come, sir,” announced the clerk to Gervase. “ Show Mr. Molewarp in,” was the an- swer ; and Mr. Molewarp was shown in accordingly. He took a rapid survey of the company, while saluting in a brisk military style, and then stood in an attitude of attention, with a benignant smile of recognition playing over 196 THE LOST LINK. liis countenance whenever his eyes met those of Mr. Flossett. He was not going to speak until he was addressed, like the active and intelligent officer he was. “ The least said the soonest mended,” and “ Before you speak it is my duty to inform you that whatever you say will be taken down in writing, and may be used against you.” These were the two measures that guided Molewarp’s life. “ You know this gentleman, eh, Mr. Mole- warp ? ” said Gervase, indicating his com- panion. “ Yes, sir, immediate ! Never forget a face I’ve once seen, Mr. Lane. Ask any one o’ my jail-birds, and they’ll tell you that.” Then turning to Mr. Flossett — “ How might you be, sir ? Hope I see you well, Mr. Flossett. Ain’t had the honour of seein’ you these many years, sir. Look very well, you do, sir, if I may take the liberty to say so.” “ I’m quite well, thank you, Mr. Mole- warp,” said Mr. Flossett. “ Mr. Flossett wants to speak to you about the conviction of his confidential clerk some MOLE WARP MELTED BY MISERY. 197 years since,” said Gervase, seeing his friend did not quite know liow to begin. “ Yes, sir. You know, sir, of course, tliat your client’s the man, I suppose ? ” “ Yes, Mr. Flossett and I have been to see him, in order to make quite sure.” Molewarp gave an inaudible whistle behind his hat, which he held up before his mouth when he was not speaking, a graceful action acquired in early years, when he was in the habit of giving his evidence in a wit- ness-box where there was no place to put a hat down on save the floor. “ Indeed, sir ! ” was the only remark he ventured on. “Yes, Mr. Molewarp, we — Mr. Lane and myself — have had an interview with that un- fortunate young man.” “ Unfort’net young man ! ” echoed Mole- warp, in a low tone, with an ironical in- tonation. “Ill-used young man,” added Mr. Flos- sett, in recognition of the interruption. “You and I, Mr. Molewarp, have much to answer for in his case.” in. o 198 THE LOST LINK. Molewarp gave a slirug of the shoulder, as much as to say he was quite equal to bearing his share of the responsibility of sending a rogue to gaol. “ I have discovered, Mr. Molewarp, that we have done him a deep and irremediable wrong. The money which he was accused of stealing, and was sentenced for, was not stolen by him. It was lost — slipt down at the back of my desk, where I found it some years after the trial.” “ That’s odd, sir,” said Molewarp, with an incredulous air ; “ for you see I remember having all the drawers out myself, and searching it all over.” “ It was not until the desk was acci- dentally broken in moving that I dis- covered the note. It had slipped out at the back of the drawer, and had been worked down, by its shutting and opening, between two boards at the back.” Molewarp still doubted. He suspected that Gervase and old Flossett, for some reason or another, wished to shield Griffin. MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 199 They were plotting, he fancied, so he de- termined to out-manoenvre them. “ Well, it’s uncommon curious, Mr. Flos- set, sir, — uncommon. But perhaps you don’t happen to recollect as we had the number of that note. You’re sure it’s the same ? ” “ Quite sure. I have it in my possession still ; for, as it was stopped, I could not put it in circulation Avitliout explaining the state of the case ; Avhicli — for reasons of my own — I didn’t wish to do ; at least, I didn’t care just then.” “ So you’ve really found the money. Well, I’m precious glad of it, sir, for your sake. As for the getting of the note changed at the Bank of England, I can square all that for you without any bother or exposure. I’ll bet; so we needn’t say a word about it.” There was a pause. Gervase and Mr. Flossett were waiting to hear what more Molewarp had to say. “ Well ? ” asked Gervase at last. “Well, sir,” answered the detective. “ Have you nothing to suggest about Griffin ? ” 200 THE LOST LINK. “Well, I think it u’d be as well to say- nothing to him about it; it might unsettle him.” “ Unsettle him ! What do you mean ? ” “ Make him discontented with his way o’ life. He might be wanting to have his cha- racter cleared, or some rubbish of that sort. It wouldn’t do to unsettle him ; there’s no- thing so good for a chap when lie’s in prison as a quiet mind — no unsettling thoughts, you see.” “ Do you mean that you think we are going to allow him to suffer unjustly any longer ? ” asked Mr. Flossett. Molewarp stared at the two. This took him quite by surprise. “ Why, ye wouldn’t go and say anything about it, sure-ly. What does it matter? He’s been sentenced, and lie’s got used to it. It’s no good to him to have his character cleared ; he’s got none to clear, in fact. Just think how you’d be a-shaking the wery foundations of law and justice to come pitching a story like that ! Why, it ’ud be the ruin o’ my professhnal reputation, to say nothing of MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 201 destroying confidence in the force. Lor, it wouldn’t do at no price ! ” It was the turn of Gervase and Mr. Flossett to stare now. They could hardly believe their ears. The spectacle of such cold-blooded and selfish injustice took their breath away. At last Gervase recovered his speech. “Well, Mr. Molewarp, you do indeed sur- prise me by this callousness. But we need not discuss the question. Mr. Flossett and I do not regard the matter in the same way as you do, and we are determined to clear this poor fellow’s character. He knows the truth now.” “Well, then, it’s a burnin’ shame — and that’s all about it ! What call have you to go meddling with the matter ? What do ye want to shake the public confidence in the force for ? But I’ll have the chap in spite o’ that, and he shall suffer for bein’ innocent in this here uncalled-for way. What business had he to go and deceive me with such an appearance of guilt ? But I’ll be even with him. I’ll work him for that burglary.” 202 THE LOST LINK. “ Stop a moment, Mr. Molewarp. Not so fast. I tliink it right to tell you also that I have evidence which most triumphantly clears him. I can establish an alibi; and not only that, I have got the man who really did commit the burglary.” Molewarp gave an incredulous smile, and shook his head. “ I tell you, Mr. Molewarp, I have evidence to prove that Griffin did not commit that burglary. I shall prove it with your own witnesses chiefly, and I shall bring up the man who did do it.” “ Well, then, all I can say is as it’s pretty conduct for a gentleman as is sup- posed to make it his business to uphold the majesty of the law — and no mistake, sir. There ! ” And Molewarp snapped his fingers. “ Don’t lose your temper, Mr. Molewarp. We have sent for you in order to tell you this, that we might give you an opportunity of retiring from a false position. We have no wish to do more than establish this poor fellow’s innocence, and the less you resist MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 203 our efforts, tlie less will be tlie exposure of your mistakes.” “ Thank ye for nothin’, sir ! But I never retires from a position. And let me tell you this much more, sir — you won’t get much out o’ my witnesses, let me tell you ! I know what a witness ought to be too well for that. I’ll work him — by Jove, sir ; I’ll make him wish he’d never had the cheek to be innocent when I said he wasn’t. How about that bigamy job, sir? You wouldn’t like that hawked up in Court.” This was Molewarp’s last despairing shot. He knew Gervase wished that kept in the background, for he had told him he might need his services to manage the case quietly and without exposure. He thought he might frighten Gervase with the threat of giving publicity to the story. “Well, Mr. Molewarp, you will only put the lady to the trouble of getting into the box and swearing that she has never seen Griffin before in all her life. You were mis- taken there also. The husband who disap- peared was a Charles Lewis ; but Edward 204 THE LOST LINK. Griffin — or Lewis, as you call him — was not the man.” Molewarp saw that his shot had been fired without effect, and he began to despair. “Look at this quietly, Mr. Molewarp,” resumed Gervase. “Your case against this poor fellow fails at every point. He is not the man who married Miss Bellisliam ; he is not the man who committed the Dover burglary ; and he had not robbed his em- ployer ! ” “ Ho, but he broke out of prison,” said Molewarp, suddenly flashing into triumph again as Gervase’ s last words suggested this new charge. “ You can prove that, if you like ; but it would only necessitate our going at greater length into the story of his unjust imprison- ment, owing to the bungling of a well-known detective, and then we should have no diffi- culty in getting him off without punish- ment.” Molewarp sat very still for a while after this, with his face shrouded behind his hand. They thought he was meditating ; but pre- MOLEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 205 . sently were surprised to see a spasmodic heaving of his shoulders, only to he accounted for in one way. He was crying ! The active and intelligent officer — the energetic detective, who was the admiration of Scotland Yard, the envy of the rest of the force, the terror of Rascaldom — had broken down, and was blubbering like a whipped schoolboy. “It is hard ! ’Ron my soul and life, gentlemen,” he began to say, in a voice broken with sobs. “ You are too many for me, and no mistake. Don’t be too hard on me. Just consider what it is to see the reputation of a lifetime slipping through your fingers ! Just consider that, sir. I am sure you won’t ruin a fellow as heartless as this. It ain’t much odds to Griffin ; he’s used to it now, and would feel very comfort- able. I’m sure, if you was to put my case to him, he might be indoosed to listen to you, and let it go on quiet. Just think of the interests of justice, gentlemen. It’ll destroy all faith in the force. It don’t matter much to anybody but me ! It don’t, really. 206 THE LOST LINK. It wouldn’t matter to him to go on as lie is. If he’s innocent, he must see, as a respect- able member o’ society, that he ought to submit to a little sufferin’ for the sake of society. It’s to the advantage of the com- munity that he should put up with this little misfortune ; indiwidules must suffer at times for the benefit of others. Oh, you won’t go and destroy my reputation in the force, will you, gentlemen ? — kind gentlemen ! Here have I been a-slaving and working all my life for the good of society, and then you go and spile my position just for a trifle like this here. What’s Griffin, after all, gentlemen ? Ho kindly consider that. Why, he’s only a private indiwidule, and I’m a public cha- racter. It ain’t for my own sake ; it ain’t indeed ; it’s for the credit of the force, Mr. Lane, sir, — Mr. Flossett, sir — you’re both gents connected with the law. Think o’ the dignity of the law, gentlemen ; think of the injury to the majesty of the law, if this here’s all shown up.” In this pitiable manner the despicable wretch besought them to spare him exposure. M0LEWARP MELTED BY MISERY. 207 He went on crying and talking in this selfish silly strain, until he exhausted Gervase’ s patience utterly. “ You’re behaving in a way unworthy of a man, fellow. Stop that blubbering, and try to see what a selfish brute you are — ready and anxious to sacrifice every principle or any person to your own miserable, selfish ends. Get out of this place, and come back again when you have conquered this cowardly weakness.” With that Gervase rang the bell. Mole- warp had to disguise his emotion on the entrance of the clerk, who was directed to show him out. He sneaked off like a beaten cur, his bosom crammed to bursting with evil passions, with disappointment, and selfish fear. “ Pah ! Open the window,” said Gervase. “ Let’s air the room after that exhibition of the grovelling degradation to which selfish- ness can bring a man ! ” ( 208 ) CHAPTER XIII. THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. DIM and, perhaps, I may say dismal building was the edifice wherein the famous firm of Winslow, Jones, and Company conducted their business. Be kind enough to observe that I say “ Winslow, Jones, and Company,” not “Winslow, Jones, and Co.” I do so advisedly. The firm was so described in the firm’s book, on the firm’s brassplates, and by the firm’s letters. It was so described not so much out of respect for the social position of the wealthy aristocrat who formed “ The Company,” as because the business was a slow, sure, and steady one, which never clipped a coin or a word. It was not rushing headlong to ruin at such a rapid pace that it could only afford time to give THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 209 you half a word — to discount the English language at a rush. It had time to give names as well as persons their full due, and you might as well have expected to get short of the proper sum in exchange for a cheque as to suppose you would find the firm giving you the short for its full title. It was a Bank wherein money was made, and since time is money, it could afford the few odd seconds needed to give full expres- sion to the name it bore — “ Winslow, Jones, and Company.” Sir Bernard Winslow was still an influ- ential and revered member of the House of Commons. He sat on the Conservative side of the House, as became a man of his birth and position. But he was not a blind adherent of the party. Neither side of the House could count on his support unless the measure, for which it sought it, was a really sound and wise measure. A tall, stately old gentleman was Sir Bernard, with a white frill to his white shirt, white hands with white wristbands about their white wrists, and white hair brushed back from a high, white 210 THE LOST LINK. forehead. Such a man could not be suspected of dabbling in dirty work — and, though the term “ financing ” was not then invented, many bankers knew in those days what dirty hands were. A large bunch of seals dangled from a broad, black ribbon at his waist. He was the very model of nicety and neatness in the colour and cut of his clothes. Mr. Jones, the highest financial authority in England, was a prim, precise little man. He was as neatly dressed as his senior part- ner, but the cut of his garments was more business-like and practical. Sir Bernard was the ornamental partner, Mr. Jones the useful. The former made the firm admired in the House, the latter made it respected in the Money Market. Mr. Jones’ position was one of great anxiety and responsibility. His whole being night and day was steeped in the business. Ho wonder that his dry skin had a bilious hue, that a yellow tinge suffused the white of the eye he kept so constantly on the main chance. “Familiarity breeds contempt,” says the proverb; and the clerks of Messrs. Winslow, THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 211 Jones, and Company were no exception to the rule. It would be too strong an expres- sion to say that their familiarity with the inner workings of the great banking firm bred in them any contempt for it ! Oh dear, no ! they were too grave, and solemn, and steady, the handful of clerks who shovelled about sovereigns and crumpled crisp notes behind the counter of that gigantic business. But they had their quiet jokes — an elephan- tine and grandiose humour ; and they styled Mr. Jones and Sir Bernard, respectively, “Gold” and “Notes,” the former they christened on account of his yellow com- plexion, the latter because of his snowy cambric and silvery hair. As for “the Company,” that distinguished nobleman seldom appeared at the Bank. When any great conclave was called to con- sider affairs of moment, his yellow chariot rolled up to the doors, and the man of many quarterings and a hereditary gout hobbled into the mysterious parlour, where the mys- teries of Plutus were celebrated. It was into this Mammonium — as he called 212 THE LOST LINK. it in describing bis interview afterwards to Bartlett — that our friend Gervase was ushered when he called at the bank by appointment to see Mr. Jones. He was led to it through a long, chilly passage, with rows of fire buckets on either hand, and an echo somewhere in the roof. The inner chamber was as hushed as the grave. The swinging of the doors, the rattle of the sovereigns, the shuffling of the feet in the outer office could not penetrate to this still retreat. The windows looked out into a city graveyard. The walls were adorned with some six or eight pictures, portraits of de- funct Winslows, and Joneses, and Com- panies, who had founded, enlarged, and es- tablished the firm. Each figure stood in a graceful and solvent attitude — by which I mean that they all had the air of men who could write a cheque for the purchase money of Golconda, — and knew it. Behind each figure were a curtain and a pillar, which were introduced either because portrait painters are prone to pillars and drapery, or because the column represented the stability THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 213 of tlie banking house, and the curtain the mystery which involves the manufacture of money on a gigantic scale, and conceals its operations from the vulgar ken. By the time Gervase had finished his sur- vey of the apartment a door opened, and Mr. Jones came gliding in. He motioned to Gervase to be seated, and then, taking a chair, crossed his legs — his trousers were tightly strapped down — put an elbow on each arm of the chair, and interlaced his fingers as if he wished to say W, for “ warm,” in the Deaf and Dumb Alphabet. Then he raised his chin so as to allow himself to peep under the gold rim of his spectacles and along the sides of his nose at his visitor. “ May I enquire, sir,” he asked, “ to what I owe the honour of the interview you have been good enough to seek ? ” “ Some time ago, sir, you had a brief cor- respondence with a lady of my acquaintance about the marriage of her daughter with a gentleman who banked with you. The lady’s name was Bellisham ” Mr. Jones unlaced his fingers and placed hi. p 214 THE LOST LINK. the index tenderly on his forehead, as if he were touching the key-note of memory. “ I cannot exactly recall that name.” “ She wrote to the firm to enquire about the position, and — and that sort of thing” — added Gervase, giving up in despair the notion of being able to keep at the same pitch of gentility as Mr. Jones in the tone of his remarks. “ She had made his ac- quaintance at Southstone-on-the-Sea.” Here Mr. Jones exhibited an air of increas- ing attention and interest. “ The gentleman described himself as Sir Charles Lewis.” “ I recall the correspondence, sir. And then ? ” “ Well, the lady’s daughter accepted the gentleman for whom you vouched, and was married to him. But on the day of the wedding — within a short time after leaving the church, he disappeared, and his wife has never since heard from him or of him.” Mr. Jones threw his head a little further back, and took an entirely uninterrupted view of Gervase from beneath his gold spectacles. THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK TARLOUR. 215 “ Most extraordinary circumstances! ” was all lie said. “ Most extraordinary!” emphasised Ger- vase. There was a pause. Mr. Jones had pursed up his mouth as if to show he had nothing to add. “Have you heard anything of him?” asked Gervase after a minute or so. “ We have, sir.” “Can you tell me where he is ? ” “ No, sir, I cannot.” The banker was evidently on his guard. He did not know Gervase’ s object in making these enquiries, and he took it for granted that it was not a good one. Gervase felt that he was foiled, and could not quite see how he was to overcome Jones’s reserve. But he resolved not to be beaten off easily. “ I have no sinister motive for making these enquiries, I assure you.” Mr. Jones gave just as much of an acqui- escent bow as politeness required — not a bit p 2 more. 216 THE LOST LINK. “ I may as well tell you the whole story.” Mr. Jones sank back into his chair, placed his elbows on the arms again, once more interlaced his fingers, as if he wished to say W, for “Wary” in the Deaf and Dumb Alphabet, and looked at Gervase, this time burying his chin in his shirt-frill, and sur- veying his visitor over the top of his gold- rimmed glasses. “ Mrs. Bellisham made Sir Charles Lewis’s acquaintance by accident at the sea-side. He became attached to her daughter, and proposed for her hand. The young lady had trustees, for whose satisfaction Sir Charles referred Mrs. Bellisham to you. She re- ceived a letter in reply to her application, and considered it of so satisfactory a nature that the marriasre was fixed. In due time it o took place, but after the ceremony, as I have said, the gentleman disappeared, and has not since been heard of. You know him, and admit that you have heard from him lately.” Mr. Jones shook his head. “I so understood you, sir,” said Gervase,. THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 217 a little nettled at the mystery of the old gentleman’s manner. “ I did not intend to convey any such im- pression, sir,” said Jones, guardedly. “ I said we had heard of him. I did not com- mit myself to any further statement, save that I do not know where he now is.” “ Surely, sir, you will not object to relieve the very natural anxiety of Mrs. Bellisham and her daughter, whose position is most anomalous and wretched.” “ The marriage of which you speak took place soon after our letter ? ” “ Within a week or so.” “ And that was some years since ? ” “ It was.” “ Then, sir, can you explain, pray, why the lady herself, or her mother, has never before applied to us for a solution of the mystery ?” “ Oh, yes ! A detective policeman came to the house a day or so after the bride- groom’s disappearance, and he stated that he was in pursuit of an escaped convict, going about under the assumed name of 218 THE LOST LINK. Lewis ; lie had traced him to Southstone- on-the-Sea, and expected to capture him ; but supposed that the news of his approach had been signalled to the man he was after, and that he had made off. The circum- stantial evidence was strong, and the detec- tive’s conclusion that the escaped convict and the husband of Miss Bellisham were the same person seemed inevitable. Under these circumstances, you will hardly suppose that the ladies desired to create any scandal about their terrible misfortune.” “And they never wrote to us? A private and confidential communication to this firm, sir, is — it is as well known as St. Paul’s — entrusted to an inviolable secresy” — “ The ladies could hardly be expected to know much of business, or the high repute in such matters which belongs to your house, sir. Besides, the detective, on hearing of the letter, at once pronounced it a forgery.” “ It was no forgery, however, for I wrote it myself.” “So I have reason to suppose. I have little ' more to tell you. The ladies kept THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 219 their unhappy secret until lately, when it was confided to me” — • “You are a relative ? ” “ No — not exactly. I have known them for many years — very many. I am much interested in them, and they were good enough to take me into their counsels. 1 have ascertained that the escaped convict, for whom the detective was seeking, and who is now in prison on another charge, is not the man who married my friend’s daughter. The detective therefore was evi- dently on the wrong track. But there still remains a mystery to be cleared up. The lady was married to Sir Charles Lewis, and Sir Charles Lewis has disappeared. Now, sir, I think you can see I have very right and proper grounds for making this en- quiry.” “ Quite so, sir.” “ Will you assist me ? ” Mr. Jones looked at Gervase steadily over his spectacles for some half minute or so. “ I can perhaps point out to you where you may be able to obtain the information 220 THE LOST LINK. you seek, sir. I cannot consider myself in a position to do more than that. A banker, like a lawyer, sir, has possession of very many family secrets which must no more be divulged than communications made under the seal of confession.” “ I can quite appreciate your position, sir, and understand the propriety — the necessity of your reserve.” “ Thank you, sir,” said Mr. Jones, bowing graciously, as a monarch might acknowledge a cheer from a mob. “ The obligation is on my side, sir,” said Gervase, not to be outdone in politeness, “ or will be when you have kindly indicated the source whence I can obtain the information I need.” “ Then, sir, I may inform you that we have not heard from Sir Charles, but that we have been in frequent communication with his steward ” “ Pardon me, a moment. You were aware of Sir Charles’s marriage ? ” “ From what we have learnt from the gentleman of whom I just spoke we have THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 221 reason to believe that he was married. Further than that we cannot say. To be candid with you — and this being a matter purely relating to the firm, I may use my own discretion in mentioning it — we wrote to Mrs. Bellisham — I think you said that was the lady’s name — but after waiting for some time for an answer, received our letter again endorsed by the postmaster at Southstone to the effect that the lady had gone away, and left no trace of her whereabouts.” “ Most unfortunate ! But, you see, ladies are not always to be trusted to take the best course in cases of difficulty when they have no man to advise them.” “ Quite so, sir. A banker’s experience of his female customers is quite in accordance with what you state. To return to what I was saying ; we did our best to discover Mrs. Bellisham, and place her in communication with — with the proper parties. When our efforts proved unavailing, we had only one course left. We, as it were, wrote the matter off as a bad debt, to use a com- mercial phrase.” 222 THE LOST LINK. “ I perfectly understand. But what do you recommend me to do ? May I put one question to you?” “ What may be the nature of it ? ” “ I will put the question, and you can answer it or not, as you please.” “ You must remember that my refusal to answer must not be misconstrued. I may have to be silent by force of our rules of secrecy, not because the answer would damage any one.” “ I can understand the position. What I wish to know is this — are you aware of any desire on the part of Sir Charles Lewis to ignore, or set aside this marriage?” “ I am not — on the contrary, I may go so far as to say that, as far as our knowledge goes — that is, when we last were informed of his wishes and opinions, the marriage ap- peared to be — to bo ” — Mr. Jones seemed at a loss to express himself. “ A happy one ! ” said Gervase, bitterly. “ No ; not exactly,” said Mr. Jones, looking over the top of his spectacles at Gervase, at- tracted by his tone, “ but he seemed to be THE INTERVIEW IN THE BANK PARLOUR. 223 perfectly satisfied with the — with — ” here there was another hitch. It was Gervase’ s turn to look at Mr. Jones with some curiosity. €/ “ With the lady — or the arrangement,” he suggested. “ Quite so,” said Mr. Jones with a gasp, as if he had got out of a difficulty more easily than he had expected. “ But that was before the marriage,” said Gervase. The shot told. Mr. Jones was off his guard. “ Oh, yes ; but then — but — well, we know from Sir Charles’s steward — and besides he But you had better ask no more questions. I will give you the address of the steward, and you can write to him ; and he can use his own discretion as to what he shall communicate to you.” Gervase took out his note-book. “James Lloyd, Esq.,” said Mr. Jones, slowly, watching while Gervase wrote, “ Clanellyn, Glamorganshire.” “ Thank you,” said Gervase, closing the book, and replacing it in his pocket. •224 THE LOST LINK. “ I have no doubt tliat be will supply you with the information you need, provided you can satisfy him that the lady is the wi — wife of Sir Charles.” •'*' Surely Sir Charles will be able to tell whether she is the wife he married or not.” “ It may not be possible to consult him on the point just now.” “ I can forward a miniature which he gave to Mrs. Bellisham.” “I do not suppose you will have any difficulty.” “ Thank you. I am much obliged to you for the address, and must apologise for the trouble I have given, and the valuable time I have taken up.” “ Don’t mention it, sir. Good morning ! ” “ Good morning to you ! ” Mr. Jones returned to his own little den, where, after, for a short space, pondering over Gervase’s story, and other facts in con- nection with it of which he had knowledge, he once more turned his attention to the more congenial employment of money-making. Gervase returned to his own chambers. ( 225 ) CHAPTER XIV. THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. G ERVASE lost no time in writing to Mr. Lloyd. He detailed the story he had told to Mr. Jones, and added an account of his interview with that gentleman. By return of post he received a letter to say that Mr. Lloyd was on his way to town to see him. The writer, in conclusion, begged that Mrs. Flossett and Lady Charles Lewis might be summoned to town to meet him. He named] the time at which he ex- pected to reach London, and fixed an hour for his visit to Gervase’s chambers. Gervase at once wrote to Mary, and told her that he was, he hoped, in a fair way to clear up the mystery about her marriage, begging her to come up to town without delay. 226 THE LOST LINK. Mary and lier mother, overjoyed at the prospect of some solution, good or evil, of this long perplexity, obeyed the summons, and took the earliest train to town. They were at Gervase’ s chamber an hour before the time fixed by Mr. Lloyd. “My dear Mary,” said Gervase, shaking her warmly by the hand, “ I believe we are about to find a satisfactory end for our doubts and difficulties.” “You are so kind! What trouble have you not taken ! ” “It is no trouble when I know it can bring you back peace of mind.” “ Oh, Mr. Lane, if I had only known how to value your worth rightly, this misery would have been avoided,” sighed the peni- tent Mrs. Flossett. “ Don’t say a word. We are not masters of our fates,” said Gervase. Mary kissed her mother ; and conveyed by that means a fuller impression of her forgive- ness than all Gervase had said was able to express. THE HISTORY OE SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 227 “ Do tell us what you have heard,” said Mrs. Flossett. “ I went to Winslow, Jones, and Com- pany’s, and had an interview with Jones. The old fellow was very reserved at first, but I contrived to convince him of the bona fides of my application ; and then, though he was still somewhat reticent about Sir Charles’s affairs, he softened so far as to give me the name and address of Sir Charles’s steward. It seems to me that Sir Charles is keeping out of the way for some reason or other. At any rate, he has not been in communi- cation with his "bankers for a long time, and they seem to hear of him only through this steward, Lloyd. Jones said they were aware of his marriage, and knew that he had no desire to repudiate it. But there was some hitch about this part, for the old fellow stut- tered and stammered in a most suspicious way.” “ What do you suspect ? ” asked Mary. “ Do you think he was already married ? ” asked Mrs. Flossett. “ I cannot tell. It looks not unlike it. 228 THE LOST LINK. At any rate, lie could not — or would not — explain liow it was that, if Sir Charles did not wish to repudiate it, he had taken no steps to acknowledge his wife, or even to discover where she was. By the way, it appears, Mrs. Flossett, that, though he took no such steps, Messrs. Winslow, Jones, and Company did. They wrote to you at South- stone, but had their letter returned to them with an endorsement stating you had gone away and left no address.” “ I wonder what it was about ! ” said Mrs. Flossett. “Well, I think — as he said, it was purely a matter of business connected with the firm — that it was very likely a note in defence of their first letter of recommendation, or about some money Sir Charles may have paid in for you or Mary.” “ 0, dear, no ! Not at all likely,” said Mrs. F., with a blush, for she remembered that Sir Charles had placed a fair amount of funds at her disposal in the Soutlistone Bank. “ Well, there’s no need to waste time in THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 229 conjecture ; for that knock at the outer door must, I fancy, be Mr. Lloyd’s,” said Gervase. And Mr. Lloyd it was. “ A gentleman outside, sir, wants a few words with you,” said Gervase’s clerk, bring- ing in a card. Gervase glanced at it, and saw “Mr. James Lloyd” on it. “ Show the gentleman in,” said he. So the clerk threw open the door, and the stranger entered. He was a little withered old gentleman, bowed with the weight of something heavier even than years. He had a benevolent face, but the smile was a melancholy one. His long silver hair flowed down almost to his shoulders, but on the top his head was quite bald. His clothes were old-fashioned in make, and were deep black. He wore black cloth gaiters and breeches, and carried an antique-looking crutch-handled stick. He could not see very well, for he gazed about him in a confused way as if unable to make out where Gervase was ; who, seeing a venerable man in so pitiable a plight, went to him, and led him to a chair. hi. Q 230 TIIE LOST LINK. “ You must forgive my infirmities,” said the old man, leaning on Gervase’s arm : “ I’m very blind. Thank you — thank you very much, sir.” He sat down with difficulty. “I fear your journey has tired you,” said Gervase. “ Ah, sir, not the journey from Clanellyn — the journey of ninety-four years through the wilderness of life. It is that, sir — that ! It is enough to wear)' most ; but we must walk, sir, till we are called.” “ May I offer you anything ? ” asked Gervase. “ The stairs up to my rooms are tiring. A glass of wine ? ” “ Nay, sir. I’ll not take bit or sup just yet. We have much to talk of.” “ But I shall not permit you to talk till you have taken a few minutes’ rest.” The old man shook his head deprecatingly; but he sat still while Gervase fetched a wine- glass and poured him out some sherry. The old man drank it, and seemed much re- freshed. “There, sir!” he said. “ You see I’m THE IltSTOltr OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 231 quite strong again ” — and lie held out one shaking, thin hand, as if to show how firm it was — “ so now let us get to business. Have you written to the ladies, sir ? ” “ Yes. They are here,” said Gervase, in- dicating with a wave of his hand the place where Mary and her mother were sitting. It was a little out of the direct light of the window, and the old man’s feeble sight had not detected them. “Ah, sir,” said he, getting on his feet, painfully and slowly ; “ ah, sir, lead me to my Lady. Let me do her obeisance and duty.” “ Don’t move, sir ; don’t rise,” said gentle Mary, coming to the old gentleman. He took her by the hand, and looked at her long and earnestly, shading his eyes to see her better. There was nothing rude in the action or in the steady gaze, for he”was so earnest and respectful that both sat on him with a natural grace. “ And you’re my Lady, then — my bonny Lady ! Ah, many’s the long, long day I have wished and waited, and prayed to see you ! ” q 2 232 TEE LOST LINK. With that he bent down over Mary’s hand, and kissed it respectfully. Gervase and Mrs. Flossett looked on in astonishment, waiting to see what would come next. Mary stood, blushing a little at the novelty of the situation, but full of won- der, like the others. “ You’ll sit near me, my Lady, while I’m telling you what I have come to tell, won’t ye?” Mary nodded ; and helping the old man back into his chair, drew another chair close to his, and sat down. “Thank you — God bless you!” he mur- mured. And then, leaning his head on his hand, he became lost in thought for a minute or so. At length he looked up. “ It’s a long and a sore story ! I have been steward at Clanellyn since I was thirty, and I have seen three Lewises of Clanellyn laid in their last homes — woe’s me for the short-lived race ! Sir Geoffrey, my first master, was killed out hunting. Sir Henry died of a broken heart ; and enough trouble THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 233 he had — more than enough trouble — to break such a kindly heart as his. And now poor Sir Charles is gone” “Is he dead ? ” gasped Mary. “ Ay, my Lady. Dead. The last of the Lewises — the last of the long, long line. Dead ! Heaven rest his soul ! ” There was a pause. The old man could not restrain his tears. The others were struck dumb with wonder and surprise. “ I must tell you that Sir Henry married a beautiful foreign lady — ah, she was beautiful indeed. But after the birth of her first babe there came a darkness over her, and they found that the madness was here- ditary, and, alas ! incurable. Ah, there was sorrow for poor Sir Henry. They took her away from him, and shut her up, for they said it was not safe she should be left at large. He begged and prayed of them to let her stay at the old house, and promised to watch her night and day ; but they would not listen to him, for they said that the long darkness that hung over her only concealed a terrible smouldering fire of fierce madness 234 THE LOST LINK. that must break out some day — and they dared not answer for the consequences” “ Homicidal mania ? ” asked Gervase. The old man nodded. “ Well, sir, the child — poor little Charles — was very sickly and ailing. He needed great care and nursing, and his father’s whole thoughts were centred in him. He never parted from the little thing a moment. And the employment the child gave to his mind weaned it somewhat from the great sorrow. But for the child, the doctors said, they feared he might have followed his wife, for his brain was near giving way. God be praised, the child saved him from that. But, by-and-by, the poor innocent became the source of the most terrible anguish to him. The doctors, who came to see Sir Henry, used to watch the little one very narrowly, for they feared that it was likely to prove an idiot, if not absolutely insane. My poor master was ignorant of this until one day he caught some tell-tale look in one of their faces ; — or else some unguarded expression betrayed their anxiety. I cannot tell what THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 235 it was, but at any rate it flashed upon him suddenly that they thought the child’s mind wrong. “ I should have told you before this what became of the poor lady. She was, as I have said, taken to a madhouse against my mas- ter’s wishes. For some time she went on quietly enough, and had disarmed all sus- picion by the mild melancholy of her ways. But the terrible day came at last, and found them unprepared. She broke into a frenzy of the most terrible kind, and during the paroxysm she attacked and nearly murdered one of her keepers. He was found by some of the other attendants terribly mangled, and when they sought for her she was found dead — she had strangled herself with her own hair, which was very long, and dark, and beautiful. “ My poor master was nigh distracted now ! He reproached himself for allowing her to be taken away from his care to be murdered by strangers. He refused to see any of the doctors who had ordered her to be removed to the madhouse, and shut him- 236 THE LOST LINK. self up entirely, seeing nobody, and never going into society. All his time was given up to the child; and, poor little thing, it was only too clear that it had not escaped the terrible affliction that had fallen on its mother. This was a new terror for Sir Henry. He feared that the doctors would discover it, and send the child to a mad- house, too. He became gloomy and silent, and shut himself up in one wing, to which nobody was allowed access but me, to whom he had confided the terrible secret under the most solemn vows of silence. We brought the child up between us. He grew up an affectionate, good, noble boy, very fond of reading, and very studious about his lessons, for his father gave up his time to educate him himself. But at intervals the madness would come upon him, and then there were weeks of anguish for his father and me, until reason returned. “ We kept the secret well. No one sus- pected — much less knew — that the young heir of Clanellyn was a lunatic. We had come to calculate pretty closely when the THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 237 fits would come ; and in the intervals tlie lad — almost a young man now — was allowed to get out and about, and enjoy himself. “ But at length all the harass and wrong he had gone through began to tell on Sir Henry. He gave way all at once, and, after a week’s illness, died. Before he died he made me promise to watch over the poor lad, but, above all things, not to breathe to a living soul that the poor fellow was subject to fits of madness. He made me swear this in the most solemn and awful manner. His will left me trustee and sole executor — the property going to Charles. If he died un- married and without issue, it was to come to me for my lifetime ; after that it was to re- vert to the next of kin. “ Well, sir, unfortunately, it had always been my place to check the poor lad. His father had not the heart, so it was my duty to keep him in when the fit was coming, or to bring him home if we were out on a trip. He seemed — much as he loved me — to think that I was a sort of keeper or watch over him, and that I curtailed his liberty. The 238 THE LOST LINK. first tiling lie did after his father’s funeral was to break out and run away for a time. I searched for him, and at last found him, but I had great difficulty in getting him home. From that time my life was one of constant nervous apprehension. He was un- settled — the books he had read had filled him Avitli a desire to travel and see the world. At last he reached his twenty-first birthday, and then he announced to me that, as he Avas of age, he should thenceforth act as he chose. What was I to do ? I could not put any re- straint on him without revealing the secret of his madness, and I had lost all influence over him. I determined to hold out a show of restraint as long as I could, and at last had to threaten to send for the keepers and have him confined. It Avas a desperate step, but it proved to bo a mistaken one. The next morning he had disappeared. What could I do ? I told the servants he was gone off on a tour on the Continent, and then, pretending a mission to London, set out in search of him. It was a fruitless search. I never heard or saw him more THE HISTORY OF SIR CHARLES LEWIS. 239 until some time afterwards, when I received a note from the Coroner of Seamouth.” Gervase started. “ My poor master had been found drowned on the beach. In his pocket was a packet ad- dressed to me, and a letter. In the letter he told me of his marriage (it was written on the morning of the wedding), and gave me all his history since he left Clanellyn. The packet contained his diary. From that I learned that his doubts and anxieties about his marriage, and his fear that the lady would not marry him after all, must have disordered his brain, for the latter part of the diary was full of incoherent, wild remarks all about it. “ I had no doubt he committed suicide in a fit of madness. But I said nothing, and luckily some local doctor who got the Coroner to call him in for the sake of the fee for attendance, pronounced the cause of death to be apoplexy. The verdict returned by the Jury was, “ Died by visitation of God ” — and surely madness is the most terrible of God’s visitations ; so I felt I 240 THE LOST LINK. need say nothing. He is buried at Sea- mouth.” “ This is very strange, Mr. Lloyd. I was present when the body was found. I had been out bathing, and met the searchers just as they came upon it.” It was only natural that poor Mary and her mother should shed tears to hear the sad fate of one who had been so much to them ; and poor old Lloyd joined them in their grief. When they were a little more composed, he told them that he intended to give up the property to Mary, but she would not listen to anything of the sort. “ Nay, my Lady, it is my duty. It’s no doing of mine. It is what I am bidden do by my dead master’s letter. He says there that if aught happen to him, you are to have all his property. By doing this, my Lady, I shall end the long stewardship I have held. My task is finished. 1 Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace ! ’ I am pre- pared, 0 Lord ! ” ( 241 ) CHAPTER XY. WHEREIN THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. E have spent a little too much of our time of late in London. The Temple is certainly one of the pleasantest parts of the great city — an oasis in the Sahara of smoke ; but still it is not the country, let them strive as much as they will to make it look bright and cheery with hyacinths or chrysanthemums, and other flowers in their seasons. Let us turn our backs upon the lurid canopy of smoke, the hundred spires, the roar, the midnight glare, the ceaseless bustle. We must get a gasp of fresh, pure air. We will set our faces towards the west, if you please, and seek the quiet and retirement of Beaveshire. 242 THE LOST LINK. A warm spring has clothed the Black Level with a bright green. The floods of winter have retired, and the grass is the richer and ranker for the visitation. The fringes of the broad dykes are bright with flowering rush, and the big blue forget-me-not, with adder’ s- tongue, and frog-bit, and the other flowers that love the swamp and win their names from it, or its inhabitants. In the higher pastures the lambs are frisking, and the red kine, the Beaveshire breed, are contentedly chewing the cud, grouping picturesquely as they do when they sit to Mr. Davis, with the warm sunlight on their flanks. There have been changes in the Black Level since we last visited it — very great changes for a tranquil and remote district. The rail- way has been continued from Braxted, through Smugbury, away westward. There was a Southstone Junction now, with an engine of its own, to the great glory of that watering-place. For Yatdown, another over- grown seaside hamlet, had a junction also, but no engine — the trains being drawn by horses. So you may suppose that, the two THE KING OF KELLS IS REVISITED. 243 places having a fierce rivalry, such as always exists between small would-be watering- places, Southstone was immoderately puffed up at the notion of having a real practicable engine, instead of the gaunt stumbling horses that dragged the trains to Yatdown. Brant - under-the-Head had its station on this line, a busy station, where the passengers are few, and the goods traffic is large : for the scour - ing-brick trade, and the fish trade, and the half-dozen other branches of commerce that once sought Brant for the sake of the coasters that came to an anchor there, have been diverted to the railway, and make a brisk business for Brant Station. When I said the passengers were few at Brant, I meant only that few people stopped there. Plenty got out and changed to the branch line, which, starting from Brant, goes straight across the county, through the Black Level, to the Cathedral town of Pools — a town whose inhabitants, as always hap- pens in Cathedral towns, were split up into cliques and factions, that regarded one another with pride, envy, hatred, malice, 244 THE LOST LINK. and all uncharitableness. It is one of the things that I have never been able to explain to myself satisfactorily that these evil pas- sions flourish best in Cathedral towns, the head-quarters of the professors of Chris- tianity, the most humble, brotherly, benefi- cent, and charitable religion in all the history of the faiths ! From Pools there had always been a rail- way to Seamouth — at least ever since rail- ways became common ; for the dignity of the ecclesiastical city and of the seaport which had once been visited by Royalty required that a railway should be established — and established it was accordingly. So, you see, now there was a line of railway right across the county connecting Brant, the commercial, on the north, and Seamouth, the fashionable, on the south, and touching at many places of minor im- portance on the road. The line through the Black Level was an expensive one to con- struct. There was no finding a sound foun- dation in the juicy, peaty soil. Fascines, brushwood, stones were laid down, and sank THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 245 into the swamp, over and over again, until the simple country folk, who were watching the making of the line, thought the Black Level could be nothing better than a sort of film on the surface of the bottomless pit. Even the better- informed people there- abouts, who read the newspapers, and were much in advance of their neighbours in learning consequently, would never have been surprised to learn that there had been a sudden eruption of stones, brushwood, and fascines somewhere at the Antipodes. The line swallowed up money and time just as the Level absorbed cartloads of these un- considered trifles. It would never have been made at all had not the main line, of which it was an offshot, been so irretrievably in debt that the shareholders never dreamed of a dividend, and the directors did not care how much they increased the liabilities, so long as they could only hold out hopes of an immense and prosperous increase of traffic which would follow “ the completion of the system,” and of course the system was never completed so long as there was a hi. R 246 THE LOST LINK. branch in course of construction. I believe to this day the system remains in an uncom- pleted state, and the only prosperity that has ever been derived from it has been shared among the contractors, two of whom have risen to a high position, and have been re- turned to Parliament, where, of course, they discourage any foolish project for a new line that might bring money to their firms — of course they do ! We all know that integrity and disinterestedness are the distinguishing characteristics of members of Parliament, and most especially of those of them who have acquired lofty principles and eminent virtues in the share market, in the board- room, or at the railway works. Among the small places at which the costly line I have mentioned touches, on its way between Brant and Pools, is our old friend the village of Bartle. Bartlo was still the same quiet agricultural village as ever. As the central spot of a district abounding in little towns and large villages, it was still the head-quarters of commercial travellers, and it had become a THE RING OP BELLS IS REVISITED. 247 sort of depot for receiving the produce of the surrounding country and despatching it by rail. It had in other respects been but little awakened by the advent of the smoky, snorting steeds of progress that rattled to and fro, making the spongy Level tremble for a hundred yards to right and left. There had been a stray gleam of enterprise at Bartle, but it had gone out, and left the repose undisturbed. Some restless inventive genius had set up works there, in which he meant to compress the turf mould into a species of ebonite, or an imitation of bog oak. He was fairly successful, but the article never got into circulation, and the enervating influences of this low-lying lotos land overpowered him. He turned his works into a cheese farm, and relapsed into a stolid solid agriculturist, and a very happy life he led. The “ Ring of Bells ” is still the inn of the place. It has so far gone ahead as to have the red triangle of Bass and the couped hand of Allsopp displayed in frames in the com- mercial room, and to have the beer of those T» O 248 THE LOST LINK. firms in its cellar. In other respects it is little changed. It is true that when first the line was opened, the landlord, incited thereto by some Mephistopheles “ travelling in the hardware,” set up a perambulating refresh- ment room on the platform — in other words, a boy with a basket containing lemonade, ginger beer, biscuits, cakes, and oranges. But there was no sale, so the boy was dis- charged, and the basket relegated to an out- house, and adopted by a speckled hen that was a regular layer. My readers will be perhaps surprised to find that at the time of our present visit the landlord and landlady are no other than our old friends John and Mercy. When the old people died, these worthies having saved up their wages — most likely because they had no earthly opportunity of spending them — de- termined to cast their money and their lives together. They married, bought the good- will and fixtures cheap, and carried on the business as before. They moved out of their attics into the best bedroom, and installed a youth and a maiden in their vacated apart- THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 249 ments, and that was all the change they made. Outwardly the “ Ring of Bells ” was little changed, except by age. The white horse was dead, and in its place a tall ungainly roan munched the hay, and the occasional handful of corn. The yellow gig was still a joy for ever, and had not been fresh painted. You see yellow is such a durable colour ! There were, perhaps, more wisps of straw blowing about, for the fowls to inspect list- lessly, and of course the fowls were of a new generation. I am informed that when first the line was opened through Bartle several of the inn fowls, conservative chickens of a game breed, were so shocked at the innova- tion that they got on the line and perished ; though whether we are to -consider them obstructive suicides or glorious martyrs for principle I won’t pretend to say. There is little or no change in John — I must still call him John, for he seldom went by his surname, and indeed had some diffi- culty I believe in remembering it when it became necessary to confer it upon Mercy at 250 THE LOST LINK. the parish church. He is called “Mr. John” now by the village folks of the lower order, “ lan’l’d John ” by the farmers. The commer- cials call him “ landlord ” — some of the older customers styling him “ Wilkins,” as if he had taken his wife’s name. You see she had been as often called “ Wilkins ” as “ Mercy ” in the old days — perhaps oftener ; and as John never had anything but “ Jan,” when it became necessary to find him a surname, Wilkins presented itself as the most eligible. Mercy had brought to the united stock some table linen, a dozen silver spoons, and some other useful articles, which John did not possess, so why should she not have brought a sur- name ? John was smoking his pipe by the parlour fireplace. There was no fire, but there was a fender, and John enjoyed his pipe better when he had one foot on a fender, so that he could rest the hand, between the first and third and the middle finger of which he held the pipe stem, upon his knee, and stop down the tobacco, when necessary, with his little finger. The creaking of the front door announced THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 251 a visitor. The 2.25 train had just stopped at Bartle, on its way to Pools, so that John concluded the visitor had come by rail. He turned round to inspect him, and beheld a tliick-built, common-looking man, set up in somewhat soldierly style, with a cunning look in his eye, a compression about his mouth, and a general expression of assumed supe- riority and authority about him. The new comer looked very hard at John for a few seconds, cast his eye round the parlour, did that rapid sum in mental arith- metic called “ putting two and two together,” and gave a whistle. “ Up in the world a bit, eh, friend ? ” said he. “ ’D aft’noon,” said John, who having no answer to the other’s remark, evaded it by a compressed form of a common greeting. “ Ah, you don’t remember me ? ” said the other. “ Don’t mind ’s ever I see you before.” “No? That’s odd. Ye see I recollect you like a shot, and I have a deal to think of, and I don’t suppose as you’re much 252 THE LOST LINK. troubled in that way. Don’t remember me, eh ? Why, I remember you — name, John — occupation, ostler.” “ Me an’ my wife’s took the place now,” said John. “ Do ye mind her ? — she were chammermaid here, Mercy by name.” “ No, I never saw her.” “ What, know the Ring o’ Bells, and not mind her ? That’s rum, anyhow ! ” and John chuckled. “ Do you remember the 28th of October, 18 — ? ” asked the stranger. “ No more nor no other day of any year in particular, ’cept my weddin’ day, my birthday, and the day as they opened the railway.” His duties as landlord had made John garrulous, as compared with what he had been in his ostler-days. “ Do you remember Mole warp, the detec- tive from London ? ” asked the stranger. “ Ah, to be sure, I mind his coming well. That were a rum affair anyhow ! ” Molewarp — for it was he who had just come to the Ring of Bells — smiled. His fame was THE RING OE BELLS IS REVISITED. 253 so great as even to impress a yokel like this. But then his face became clouded as he thought of the peril in which that reputation now stood — the very cause of his visit. “ You remember Molewarp. D’ye recollect what he came about ? ” “ Ah — and so do you, for I mind ye now. You’m Moulwaarp liisself, I reck’n.” “ Right you are ! You remember that fellow Lewis coming here, and about my coming in the morning, and finding he’d bolted.” “ Yes, sure. And a’ hadn’t stole nowt ! That were rum anyhow. Oh, there was a mighty noise about it next day, and me and my missus were pretty nigh turned away ! ” “What for? There was nothing lost.” “ No — on’y a bill for sooper, and woine, an’ a bed wasn’t paid vor.” “ Oh, so Master Lewis bilked you, did he?” “No, ’twere t’other chap.” “ T’other chap — what other chap ? ” “ Chap as corned here saam evenin’ ? ” Molewarp took out a little greasy black 254 THE LOST LINK. pocket-book, and after turning over the leaves for some time, found an entry from which lie read aloud the folloiving passage : — “ Bing of Bells, Bartle, Beaveshire, 28 th October. Had been there. Only one person stopping at the house. Had escaped by his bedroom window. Nothing stolen. — P.S. Came on horseback, left the horse, had a small valise that he took away with him. Informant’s name, John, the ostler of the inn.” John nodded his head at the particulars — all save one. “ Well,” said Molewarp, as he closed the book again. “ There you are — what I wrote down at tlie time. John, the ostler, in- formant, says there was only one person stopping at the house. Now, then, how do you square that ?” John did not answer, but lie rang the bell, and then gave a wave of his disengaged hand, as much as to say, “ Wait a bit ! ” Mrs. John shortly made her appearance at the door. She was turning down her sleeves as she came in, so it may be conjectured she THE KING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 255 was engaged in washing, or some other do- mestic employment in the kitchen, when she was summoned. “ What’s wanted ? ” she asked, briskly, for she was evidently not over-pleased at being called away. ‘'Mercy,” said her husband, “d’ye mind the time as there was a row here ’bout a chap havin’ sooper, and woine, and bed, and goin’ away ’ithout payin’ ? ” “ Ay ! ” said Mrs. John, turning to Mole- warp, and darting a keen look of inquiry at him, “Ay ! I do ; and if any of ’em’s here- abouts, they’m best pay the bill as were stopped out of my waages.” “ That’s true enough,” said John. Mrs. John gave her husband an inquiring look. “ Oh, no ! ” said John, ingenuously re- plying to the question aloud, “ he bain’t the chap. He’s a pleeceman, Muster Moule- waarp, fro’ Lunnun. He’s axin’ a few ques’ns about that there ’cashun. D’ye mind how many there was in the house that night ? Tell mun all about it.” 256 THE LOST LINK. With that John gave himself up entirely to his pipe, and left his wife to explain. Al- though he was infinitely more communicative than he had been in earlier days, he did not enjoy a conversation so sustained as this had been. Mrs. John, thus exhorted by her husband, sat herself down on the edge of a chair — as if to symbolize that she could only stop a minute or two — and then taking up the hem of her apron, and passing it backwards and forwards between the thumb and forefinger of either hand alternately from corner to corner, as if she were measuring off inter- minable calico, she began her story. “ There was two in the house that night. I’d been down the village, and were detained to shop when the first come, as John showed to his room. Another come just as I got back. I got ’em both supper, and then showed ’em to their rooms. Next mornin’ there wasn’t neither on ’em to be found. Missus thought thcre’d a-been a robbery, but there Avasn’t nothin’ missin’, bless ye. On’y one o’ the parties, him as John showed THE RING OF BELLS IS KEVISITED. 257 in, he’d paid liis bill. He’d had it made out ’cause he wanted to leave early — but no one didn’t suppose as he meant to jump out o’ winder. But the other party he hadn’t paid. Chops, sherry, and two threepenny cigars, besides the bed, not to mention servants.” “ What was he like ? ” “ Oh, nothin’ particular. Hot o’ much account — hadn’t no luggage with him, he hadn’t — as missus said I didn’t ought to have took him in, as is a good rule for a house, but what was the good — t’other’d got a small portmantle, and took it away with him.” “ What was his name ? ” “ Him with the portmantle? Lewis. ’Twere on the portmantle.” “ I mean the other’s name.” “ I don’t know — as I tell ye, he hadn’t no luggage.” Molewarp gave a dissatisfied grunt. He saw where he had probably gone off on a wrong scent. He was baffled and puzzled. “ What a donkey you were to tell me there was only one in the house!” he said to John, 258 THE LOST LINK. rudely. He wanted an outlet for liis ill- temper. “ I knew nowt of t’other,” said John. “ How should he ? ” asked Mrs. John, standing up for her husband. “ You did ought to have axed chambermaid, not go axin’ at the stables.” Molewarp felt there was some truth in that. His caution had been excessive. His rule never to trust a woman had been proved in this case — by an exception. He saw that if he had applied to Mercy he might have been saved from a fatal error. For although Griffin had gone by the name of Lewis, he felt that it was at this point that he had assumed the name, and that there was a real Lewis here, who had confused the pursuit, and hopelessly entangled the evidence. “ Did these two meet here ? ” he asked, after a pause. “ Did they know one an- other ? ” “ I reck’n they didn’t know each other — they had separate sittin’ rooms. But the one chap — him as came last — got into t’ other’s room by mistake, and they had THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 259 some words, an’ I believe, a bit o’ scuffle about it.” Here was another complication ! “ Were they alike at all ? ” “ No more nor you and him ! ” said Mrs. John, indicating her husband with a jerk of her elbow. “ What was Lewis like ? ” “ A fair-sized chap — a real gen’lman he were, with black hair, and a bit o’ mous- tache, and a rollin’ eye.” “ That’s not my man — nor yet like your description of Lewis,” said Molewarp, turn- ing to John. John only shrugged his shoulders. “ His description!” said Mrs. John, scorn- fully ; “ did ye ever know a man as could describe anybody owt better than as he’d a head, two arms, and two legs ? Women is the ones to describe a man.” Molewarp was obliged to admit the truth of this, though it showed another blot in his system, in his rule never to take a woman into his counsels. “ What was the other chap like ? ” 260 THE LOST LINK. “ Looked a decenter chap nor he proved to be. Brownish curly hair, on’y terrible short, an’ he’d a stooble o’ beard ’sif he hadn’t shaved, and ill-fittin’ clothes.” “ Wasn’t a gentleman like the other, eh ?” “No, not one for the commercial room — sort of better than the tap, a bit. Kind of a parlour chap.” This barmaid-definition satisfied Molewarp that this second stranger had been his man. He drew a photograph of Griffin from the little black pocket-book. “ Is that like him ? ” “Aye,” said Mrs. John. “He’s better dressed, and his hair’s a bit longer ; but I believe that’s like him, only darker.” “ Photographs make one darker ! ” ex- plained Molewarp, “ but he ain’t fair, surely ! ” Mrs. John gave a scornful sniff*. “ You men ain’t judges o’ dark and vair. Anything that ain’t downright white or yal- ler’s dark with you. I’d s’pose now you’d call me dark ! ’ ’ Mrs. John’s hair was a dull frizzly brick THE RING OF BELLS IS REVISITED. 261 colour. Strictly speaking it was not dark, but it was so far from being decidedly light that in Molewarp’s inexact estimate of shades and colours it would have gone under the heading of dark, and he confessed as much. “Oh, indeed ! ” said Mrs. John. “Well, then, let me tell ye, I’m vair ! ” And, then, as if he had been doubting her beauty instead of her complexion, she tossed her head angrily, and retreated into the kitchen. Molewarp returned to Brant by the next train, and took a ticket to Southstone. He made inquiries at the hotel where he had stayed on his previous visit, and was directed to Mr. Cadgeby. He visited that gentleman, now a well-to-do gentleman, retired from business, with a large income from house property. In answer to Mr. Molewarp’s inquiries about Sir Charles Lewis, Mr. Cadgeby told the story of Mary’s wedding, and the mys- terious disappearance of bridegroom and bride. His description of Sir Charles at hi. s 262 THE LOST LINK. once told Molewarp that here again he had been on the track of the wrong man. Molewarp went back to town in anything but a high state of delight. The more he harked back, the less reason had he for congratulating himself on his skill in hunting. ( 263 ) CHAPTER XVI. ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED HP. T HE difficulty which presented itself to Molewarp in the solution of the Ring of Bells mystery, could only be cleared up by one man. When Gervase, who from time to time visited Griffin, called and explained to him how the real husband of Mary had been dis- covered, the revelation was made. After having related the unhappy end of Sir Charles Lewis, Gervase paused a moment and meditated. “It is evident from this that you were confounded by Molewarp with Sir Charles, who seems to have been in that part of the country in which you were lost sight of. How came you to take the name of Charles Lewis ? ” s 2 264 THE LOST LINK. “ By chance — or by fate. It was forced upon me ; and much of the misery I have suffered through bearing that name — nay, all of it — is due to my having committed one dishonest action.” “ The one you spoke of when Mr. Flossett and I were here the other day ? ” “ The same, sir.” “ You then said you would tell me all about it some day. Will you do so now ? If you do not mind telling me, I think it possible it may throw some light on this dark matter.” “ I will tell you, sir. It is rather a long story, but I’ll only give you the heads. When I reached Dartmoor, I found that one of the warders was a young fellow who had been engaged to my sister — she died of con- sumption, poor girl ! Well, sir, this good fel- low believed in my innocence. We often talked over the story, and it seemed to me very easy then to have cleared up the suspicions if I could only get my liberty. He agreed to assist me to escape. He gave me an old suit of clothes of his, and managed to ar- ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED UP. 265 range tlie time and means so well that I managed to get off unobserved. There was, however, one thing I was to do without loss of time as soon as I got out of prison — I was to get other clothes, and destroy his, or they might have got him into trouble. He had somehow arranged that I was to find a sum of money at a certain cottage on the Moor ; but, on reaching it, I found the man to whom he had given it was away — possibly on purpose — so I had to push on without it, for every moment was precious. And I had not been gone long before my absence was discovered, and pursuit began. I had to strike into the Black Level, in Beaveshire, where I was less likely to be taken. I dis- covered that Molewarp was after me from a paragraph in a local paper, and the news added wings to my flight. I forgot all my schemes for establishing my innocence ; all I could think of was freedom — blessed free- dom. I had some narrow escapes : once I hid in a hedge while Molewarp rode past me. I managed to keep away and got on to Beaveshire, and into the Level. But he 266 THE LOST LINK. was still in pursuit, and managed to keep near me. I suppose there was something about me that betrayed me, for he seemed to hear of me often. “ At last I got to Bartle, and then I began to survey my position. I was absolutely penniless now ; and my pursuers — for Mole- warp was not of course the only officer who was after me — were close on my track. And I had still the clothes that my friend the warder had given me — that would inevitably compromise him, if I was found wearing them. “ What was I to do ? “ Fortune conducted me to a small inn at Bartle, called the Bing of Bells. It did not seem to have any customers — for I inspected it carefully before I ventured in. But when I went upstairs, I turned into a wrong room, and found a figure seated by the fire. I stole up gently to reconnoitre ; but the stranger heard me — turned round suddenly, and grappled with me. Of course I thought he was one of my pursuers, and struggled hard. I felt I could master him; and he ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED ITP. 267 was probably conscious of the fact, for lie allowed some one wlio came upstairs, at- tracted by tbe noise, to part us. He meant to wait for additional aid before lie attempted my capture. I watched him very closely ; and my suspicions were confirmed, for I found he, too, was watching. At last, we both retired to bed ; and still we were keeping a wary watch on each other. “When I got into my own room, I sat down on the edge of the bed and surveyed my position. This man was evidently an enemy. It was a struggle for freedom, dearer than life. I determined to appeal to force — violence if need be. I went to his door. He was on the watch ; so I retired for a while. The next time I went I forced my way in. He was gone — gone to seek aid. It had been my intention to secure him and gag him, and then to make off with his clothes, which would enable me to get rid of those I was wearing, to the peril of my friend and liberator. “He was gone ! But he had left a small valise behind him, containing clothes. I 268 THE LOST LINK. secured this, and made my escape as he had done — by the window. I determined to retrace my steps, thinking, with a change of dress, I might continue to throw my pur- suers off the scent. When I came to examine the valise, I had reason to suppose I had mistaken the character of the stranger. The articles in it were all of good material and make — evidently they belonged to a gentleman. I repented the deed then ! It has brought bitter fruit since — my one theft ! “ I was at a loss to conceive why he ran away, and why he had watched me. He might have thought I was a robber, but then he would have surely told the landlord. At any rate I could not restore the valise, so I made the best of my position. I stripped off the clothes I had been wearing, and sunk them in one of the wide ditches of the Black Level, and I assumed the suit that I had taken in the valise. All the linen was marked with the name ‘ Charles Lewis so I was compelled to take that name, for it would have been too suspicious if I had ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED HP. 269 gone by one name and had another on my things.” “What sort of a man was this stran- ger ? ” “A dark, handsomeish fellow.” “Was he like this ? ” Gervase produced Mary’s locket, which he had carried in his pocket of late. “Yes, I think he was rather.” “ That is the Sir Charles Lewis I spoke of just now.” “ Oh, it could not have been him, sir ! ” “ I think it was he.” “ Why should he have run away in that strange way ?” “ Why does a man who is mad do half- a-dozen other silly things ?” “ But, sir, I feel assured he was not mad. There was no frenzy in the way in which he attacked me. It was done quickly — firmly — but not madly.” “Well, we’ll see what Mr. Lloyd says.” With that Gervase quitted Griffin, and went off to the hotel where Mr. Lloyd was staying. The old gentleman was glad to see 270 THE LOST LINK. him, and listened to the story he had to tell with great patience. “ My poor dear master kept a diary, Mr. Lane. It is a terrible diary — with great blanks where madness suspended his rea- soning life. But it contains brief notes of all his movements during his flight.” “ What an odd thing for a man in his position to do ! A madman’s diary must, indeed, be a strange book.” “ Poor fellow, he had been a great student as a lad, and had a longing to be literary, and this taste induced him to keep a diary. I will examine and see if it contains any reference to this Bartle incident.” The book was found, and the old gentle- man turned to the date. “ It is true ! ” he said, after reading a few lines. “ He mentions here that he was at Bartle, and that he fell in with one of the keepers I had sent after him. He was always in apprehension that I should try and throw him into a madhouse, for he knew nothing of my promise to his father. He says the fellow kept a close watch on him. ANOTHER MYSTERY CLEARED UP. 271 and tried to get into his bedroom when he fancied he was asleep. But, he adds, he gave him the slip by dropping out of window, and making away across country ! ” “ How strange ! But I can see it all now. Each took the other for some one who was trying to take him, and each desired to keep his liberty. How extraordinarily fear in- fluences us ! Here were two men frightening each other terribly all about nothing ! ” So another mystery was cleared away, and, all the links in the chain being found, it only remained for Gervase to put them together. ( 272 ) CHAPTER XVII. IN WHICH A LITTLE PERSON CALLED POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. ERVASE had worked hard for Griffin, ^ and fortune had favoured him. Step by step he had traced out the mystery— link by link he had put together the chain of evidence, and now at length it was com- pleted ! It seemed almost impossible to poor Griffin that he should at last be so near freedom and a restoration to his former position. His first knowledge of Gervase had not been a pleasant one. He had seen in him only another enemy — another of his fellows who, for no apparent reason, had turned against him, and sought to crush his innocence, and destroy him. It all seemed like a dream, FOLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 273 and as lie sat listening to Gervase’s voice while the latter was repeating to him the outline of the defence, he half expected to wake up and find the cold grey dawn peering in through the barred window of his prison. He almost feared to speak lest he should break the spell, and scatter the happy vision. And yet, when he looked out upon his life, it was not all so very bright. He would have to begin the struggle over again, and with the cloud over him which even a false accusation leaves behind it. Then came the memory of the humble but happy little home he had had in those early days. It was not so very long in reality, but his prison life seemed to be so many years, that his old innocent days appeared to be far, far back in the past. And yet his babe could barely have learnt to lisp — his name ! Ah, that was the question that wrung his heart ! “You are married, I think?” asked Gervase. “Had you not better tell your wife the good news?” 274 THE LOST LINK. Griffin shook his head sorrowfully. “ I do not know where she is ! When I was sent to prison she went to her relatives in Belgium, and I have never heard from her since.” “ Has she not written to you ?” “ No. I told her not to write. Her people would have been disgraced by her writing to a felon, and her people were very proud. Her brothers had set up in business abroad, and had made a great deal of money, so they settled down in the land of their adoption, and were great people in their way. They always felt that I was no fit husband for their sister — I, a poor law clerk ! To be sure, their father had been nothing but a corn-dealer, who had prospered in the days of the corn laws. But as they were great people now, they chose to forget that, and always looked down on me, and told their sister she had married beneath her. Poor girl, she was very, very fond of me, and cared little for what they said. But then the great trouble came. The prospects of prison and shame were not able to inflict POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 275 on me such anguish as I felt when I saw that she believed me guilty. Yes ! She could not disguise from me that she believed me guilty. It made no difference in her affection — she would have clung to me and loved me the same as ever, but I could read in her eyes that she thought I was guilty. It nearly broke my heart. It deprived her love of its sweetness, and turned it to gall and bitterness in my heart.” “ What could have made her doubt your innocence ? A woman seldom believes in the guilt of those she loves, though the guilt cries aloud.” “ So they say. Women may conceal their suspicions, but they feel them nevertheless. My poor girl had not the art to hide her secret from my eyes — mine that sought every face with a terrible hunger to learn what was the belief as to my guilt or in- nocence. I can, I think, see now what made her suspect. To eke out our little income, I had undertaken to keep the books of a tradesman who lived near the office, and I used to go to his shop some- 276 THE LOST LINK. times as I returned from the office, and sometimes of an evening when my wife thought I was going to a club I belonged to. And I used to do copying in my lunch and dinner time, so that I brought a fair amount of money home sometimes over and above my salary. I did not tell her how I earned it, for she knew I worked hard enough at the office, and would have only been troubled to think of my extra labour. But I believe now she thought the money I thus earned was money I had robbed my employer of.” “ Very likely.” “Yes, sir. And as I had always spent the greater part of these extra earnings on little comforts for her, she felt the more pain, I could see, to think I had done wrong for her. I assured her over and over again that I was innocent, but I saw that in her heart she still doubted me, and then my agony drove me half mad — made me angry with her. I would not let her see it, but I urged her to go abroad at once to her brothers, and forbade her to write to me, POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 277 lest I should bring shame on her and them. She was a gentle, obedient little soul, always — she went away as I told her, and I have never seen or heard from her since.” “ And you don’t know where she is ? ” “ I might discover if I felt sure all this is true, that it is no dream to vanish presently and leave me as miserable as ever.” “ It’s no dream, man ! Have courage — pluck up heart. You’ve borne adversity boldly enough. Is good fortune too difficult for you ? ” “ Almost, sir ! But even if it isn’t all a dream, I am so used to have the luck turn against me, I can hardly believe I am safe now.” “ Tut, nonsense ! It’s all clear sailing now. Take heart of grace. You shall see your wife again soon.” “ I wish I could think so, but I have an inward conviction that I shall not see her.” “ Your trouble makes you nervous. Tell me where her brothers are to be heard of, and I will write and learn where she is.” Griffin gave him the names of several nr. T 278 THE LOST LINK. people in London who would probably know where his wife’s brothers were ; so Gervase set out to learn what he could. He felt he owed Griffin some reparation, and he hoped to earn his gratitude by restoring his wife to him. To establish the poor fellow’s in- nocence was his duty, Gervase felt, but if he could restore his wife it was something which would satisfy his conscience for the injustice he had once meditated. After pursuing his inquiry some time in vain, he found a clue. Most of the people to whom Griffin referred him had long ceased to do business with the Markleys — for that was the name of Griffin’s brothers-in-law. The Markleys had retired long since. But one of the men to whom Gervase applied chanced to have heard of them recently through a common acquaintance. With so much clue Gervase soon managed to find his way. He discovered the whereabouts of the Markleys, and wrote to them, explaining his reasons for doing so, telling them of Griffin’s innocence, and approaching liberation, and TOLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 279 asking them to send their sister over at once. The answer was almost as great a shock to Gervase as it was likely to be to Griffin. The elder Markley wrote to say that his sister had never recovered the shock — had sunk gradually and pined away — had died, in fact, two years after Griffin’s trial. The child was doing well, and Markley hinted that as he was married, and had no family, it would be better the little one should stay with him, as Griffin had no home to give it, and promised if it stayed with him his wife would be a second mother to it. There was a word of consolation for Griffin at the end of the letter. His wife on her death-bed had solemnly adjured her brothers to tell her husband that she knew he was innocent, and that she died asking his for- giveness for having doubted him. “ He did not know it,” she said, “ but I thought he was guilty. But I am wiser now ! ” Markley said that he had always believed Griffin guilty, and that though he had pro- mised his sister to convey her message, he 280 THE LOST LINK. liad done so only to pacify her, and had not thought of writing to Griffin. Gervase was sadly at a loss what to do now. He did not know how to convey this terrible news to Griffin. He had sought to do him a kindness, and instead had to inflict this blow upon him. How could he do it so as to give as little pain as possible ? Luckily he bethought him of Betty. That poor little woman’s pitiful love-story had escaped his mind amid the whirl of strange events and discoveries. Now it came back to him, and he saw at once that the best thing he could do was to go and take her advice. He went down to the wharf next morning, and found Betty singing cheerfully over her household duties. For Betty’s unselfish love was thoroughly happy now, since she had aided so materially in releasing her friend, her preserver, — her beloved, why not say so, for the love was honest and pure ? She wept as for a sister when she heard of Mrs. Griffin’s death. She had not known her — but they had loved the same man, and POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 281 that was a close tie. Yet, though she wept, the little woman thought, too, and she very soon thought out a way of breaking the news gently to poor G-riffin. Gervase and she agreed that it Avould be best to let her tell Griffin. She could do so more tenderly than he would, and Gervase was not sorry to have an excuse for avoid- ing so painful a task. But Betty’s further suggestion was that the child should be sent for, and that when she broke the news to Griffin she should have the child with her to distract his thoughts from his great sorrow. Gervase approved of the suggestion, and determined to act upon it without loss of time. He once more placed himself in communication with Markley, and, not without a great deal of trouble and much epistolary argument, he at last prevailed on the uncle to let the child come. Then came another difficulty. Gervase could not leave London, for he had still much to do on Griffin’s behalf. Molewarp was still moving heaven and earth to find some means of upsetting the defence ; and 282 THE LOST LINE. as he was both active and unscrupulous, Gervase felt it would not do to be off guard a minute. But Markley would only let the child go on condition that some one came over to fetch it. What was to be done ? Poor Betty volunteered ; but she was not used to any other sort of travelling than being towed along a canal in a barge, so she would need some one to look after her, and there- fore the difficulty still remained unsolved even if she went. At this juncture, who should come forward and ask for the situation of nurse, but that worthy old bachelor Bartlett ! And why not ? Who has not read the stories — they are, I believe, well authenticated in more than one instance — of men who, having lost their wives in some wilderness or desert island, were left with a helpless babe to support, and in whom love and pity, making them wo- manly, wrought a miracle, and enabled them to suckle the little ones and preserve their lives. And if the tender instincts can do this, is it strange that there should be old POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 283 bachelors (who are not voluntarily old bachelors, but have been doomed to celibacy by force of circumstances) who love the little folk, and are beloved by them in return ? The paternal instinct is strong in them, and the love which is stored in their hearts lavishes itself upon all children, instead of being be- stowed on a few. Children have that addi- tional sense which is observable in clogs — they know at a glance those who are fond of them, and come to them frankly. And if you will take the trouble to think, my dear reader, instead of resting satisfied with the proverbial remark (almost all proverbs are libels) that “ old bachelors always hate children,” you will be able, I feel sure, to count several bachelors of your acquaint- ance who are “free and accepted” mem- bers of the mystery of childhood — are always welcome, and always at home with the little folk. Bartlett was such an old bachelor, and Gervase knew it, so he was thoroughly satis- fied to hear that Bartlett would go and fetch Griffin’s child over. All was arranged, and 284 THE LOST LINK. Bartlett started the next day, and by the end of the week came back, and presented himself at Gervase’s chamber with a pretty little girl seated on his shoulder, as happy as a Queen on her throne. “ Here we are, Polly and I ! ” he said, cheerily, as he marched into Gervase’s room. “ How, Mr. Lane, can you guess which is Polly and which is I?” Polly chuckled with great glee at this witticism, and clap- ped a pair of fat palms together approvingly, letting go her hold round Bartlett’s neck to do so, but feeling quite confident he would not drop her. She had taken to him at once, and was hardly to be pre- vailed on to allow herself to be transferred to the care of the stewardess on board the steamer. She dropped a tear or two when she was handed over, according to arrange- ment, to Betty, who was to have her home for a day or two before taking her to her father. Betty had specially^ bargained for this, that, as she said, the child might get accustomed to her, but really to have the secret satisfaction of kissing and hugging POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 285 and petting lier. But this bit of clandes- tine enjoyment was not allowed to last long. One morning Gervase and Bartlett drove down to fetch Betty and her little charge, and take them to Griffin. Betty’s heart was full of sorrow and trouble, anguish and anxiety, for there Avas a cruel task before her. But Polly was in high glee at having “ my missa Barlett again,” and crowed and prat- tled all the Avay until she made Gervase’s head and Betty’s heart ache. It was arranged that Gervase and Bartlett should wait outside while Betty broke the sad news of his wife’s death to poor Griffin. The child must stay with them till Betty called for her. As I must humbly admit my inability to describe at all adequately the interview be- tween Griffin and Betty, my readers must be content to remain on the same side of the door as Gervase and Bartlett. That door opens presently, and then we see Griffin with his face buried in his hands, and his shoulders heaving with the sobs he cannot choke back. 286 TEE LOST LINK. “ Come liere,” whispers Betty, beckoning Polly, “ that’s poor papa ! ” Thereupon Polly, who has been prepared for meeting papa, toddles forward, and tries to pull away Griffin’s hands with her little fat fingers. “ Do’n oo ty, pappa ! ” The child’s voice recalls him. He flings his arms round her, and lets his sorrow take its course, struggling with it no longer. And so the first anguish exhausts itself in a flood of tears. Meanwhile Polly, after making a few in- effectual efforts to stop her father’s tears, becomes embarrassed, and finds herself at a loss for some means of attracting his atten- tion. As she stands clasped in his arms she looks about her as if to find something to talk about. Whenever she was hurt and cried, people tried to distract her attention to other objects than her own pains and griefs, so it was natural she should apply the same remedy to her father’s tears. But there was nothing in the bare cell that offered a subject. And yet, no ! There was Betty ! POLLY COMES ON THE SCENE. 287 Now, Polly liad been taught by the Markleys to look upon Mrs. Markley as her second mother. That poor childless woman had shown the tenderest regard for the little thing, and loved to hear herself called mother, though she did not forget to teach Polly that her real mother was dead. And it was owing to this that Polly looking at Betty and finding a theme for conversation in her, made the following remark. “ Pappa ! Look dere — dere my nunny mamma ! ” by which Polly meant “ there is my other mamma,” having been always used to call her aunt her “ other mother ” and conferring the title on Betty in acknowledg- ment of the love and kindness she had showered upon her. It was an embarrassing remark — or at least it would have been under some cir- cumstances. But Betty, if she blushed at all, blushed for pleasure, to think Polly loved her ; while Griffin seemed to recognise the voice of nature, and of heaven, in Polly’s lisping utterance. “You’ll be a mother to Polly?” he said, 288 THE LOST LINK. stretching out a hand beseechingly to Betty. And Betty did not hesitate an instant. She sank on her knees beside Griffin, folded Polly to her heart, and laid her hand in his. Gervase and Bartlett had been waiting some time for a signal from Betty, who had promised to call them in. The silence puzzled them — perhaps slightly alarmed them. Gervase opened the door quietly. When he saw the group he drew back, unnoticed by all save Polly, who supposing from Betty’s attitude that she was saying her prayers, assumed a childish look of solemnity, and put up her finger, as much as to say “hush! ” Gervase understood all at a glance. He drew back and closed the door quietly. He then gave a sigh of relief, as he thrust his arm into Bartlett’s, and said, “ Come along, old boy — they’re best left alone. And now let’s go and have some lunch.” ( 289 ) CHAPTER XVIII. WHICH WINDS HP A GOOD MANY HISTORIES. fTlHERE is no necessity for my troubling my readers with the details of the legal proceedings by which Griffin’s innocence was established. A very brief outline of them will answer our purpose. The learned Judge, in commenting upon the case in his charge to the Grand Jury, took occasion to point out how dan- gerous a thing circumstantial evidence is. The Grand Jury returned “ no true bill.” And Molewarp having by this time dis- covered that his game was played out, made no opposition to the subsequent proceedings, by which Griffin obtained a pardon. It is one of the beauties of Justice — by which, of course, I mean human justice — that when a 290 THE LOST LINK. man has been condemned and punished for a crime which he has not committed, all the satisfaction he will get when he has esta- blished his innocence will be a “pardon.” Civil justice ! It knocks a man down, and robs him of his peace of mind, and then adds insult to injury by saying “ I forgive you ! ” And this worse than folly is persisted in with the vain idea that it will persuade people that human justice is infallible. Let us hope that the progress of common sense will sweep this fiction from the face of the earth, for it is as cruel as only a folly can be. Merciful heaven ! a false charge, however triumph- antly rebutted, leaves a sting and a stain behind it. To be accused is to be half con- demned. For the world is not careful as to terms, and though a trumpet-tongue should declare the charge a lie, by-and-by, when the echoes have died out, people will fall into the way of speaking of “ so and so, who was tried for felony,” and will not remember whether he was guilty or not, but will recall the fact that it was an ugly affair. And if a false accusation thus hangs about WINDING UP MANY HISTORIES. 291 a man’s neck, surely it needs something very clear and unmistakeable to reverse a wrong condemnation ; it should not be a pardon, but an acknowledgment of error. Griffin, however, was glad enough to get the pardon, without quarrelling about the justice of forgiving a man for something he has not done. He behaved very sensibly, to my thinking, in accepting the money which Mr. Flossett offered him, as an indemnity for the unmerited sufferings he had undergone. Of course, it would have been more high- minded and romantic if he had indignantly refused the offer. But Griffin was merely a man, and not a hero of romance. He saw that the proposal was a reasonable and busi- ness-like proposal, and he accepted it frankly, but without any great flourish of gratitude. What money could ever buy back the last years of his life — his lost happiness ? Not all the wealth of the Indies ! But a sum which Mr. Flossett could well spare would retrieve for him the position he had lost by no fault of his own, and he accepted that sum, as he felt it his duty to do for Polly’s sake, and for 292 THE LOST LINK. tlie sake of his wife. For Betty became Polly’s “ nunny mamma ” in reality. With the money thus received, Griffin bought an interest in the wharf. The old man wanted to take him into partnership for nothing, but Griffin very sensibly pointed out that anyhow he must invest his money, and, as a matter of course, if he were a partner he would invest it in the business, as it would come to the same thing in the end. The law expenses for which the old man had made himself responsible were also paid by Mr. Flossett — not much to the satisfaction of old Levinson, for Flossett had his bill taxed, and that was a thing that Levinson hated worse than he hated roast-pig. Levin- son has been rather unlucky of late years. His name has figured in the papers in an unpleasant way, and there have been severe leaders upon him in the daily papers, and all because he was kind and weak enough to lend money to a young sprig of the nobility, and only charge him about two hundred per cent. The ancestors of the youthful aris- tocrat had no doubt extracted money — not WINDING UP MANY HISTORIES. 293 to mention teeth — from Levinson’s fore- fathers, and had paid neither interest nor principal ; so surely our friend was not to blame if he tried to recover debts due to his tribe. But a British Jury failed to see the affair in this light — they don’t care much for history, as a rule — so Levinson lost his case, and won an undesirable notoriety. Molewarp was so disgusted with the failure of his plans and the damaged state of his reputation for acuteness, that he retired from the force, and having a pension, took a small cottage, and turned his attention to garden- ing. But he was not happy. He wanted occupation ; so, after a few years of retire- ment, he suddenly budded out as the head of a Secret Inquiry Office, and has been on more than one occasion spoken of in the Divorce Court — but not always in a com- plimentary manner. Mrs. Gaffy still sheds the blessing of her presence on No. 71 Staircase, King’s Bench Walk. That favoured region still flourishes under her auspices. The dust accumulates there, and the dirt deepens. While small in. u 294 THE LOST LINK. leaping tilings hop in her honour, other things that don’t leap make sacrifice to her with the blood of unconscious victims — for dusters and scrubbing brushes, mops and pails, are things she cares not for, and there- fore Cleanliness is a stranger to these quarters, and Dirt reigns in dignity. One peculiarity of the climate of the Staircase appears to become more marked as time goes on, and must be noted for the benefit of the scientific. The atmosphere has the strange property of taking up alcohol in large quantities. The way in which spirits evaporate has been, and still is, frequently noticed by the inhabitants — the enviable in- habitants of Mrs. G.’s Staircase. John Marks and his wife have settled down at last. The caravan has come to a final anchor. Gervase, on going down to pay his an- nual visit to Joanna, found her getting very old and feeble. She wanted some one to look after her. It happened that he had not long before heard from John Marks, so he bethought him of Mrs. Marks’s knowledge WINDING UP MANY HISTORIES. 295 of the “ virtue of harbs.” There was a cottage to let next door to Joanna’s ; he would take it for John and his wife, and they could look after Joanna, and nurse her when she was ill. He hunted up the worthy folk, who undertook the charge gladly. They were getting a little tired of their nomadic life, so they drew up the caravan at the end of the garden, and took the horse out of the shafts for the last time, turning him out to grass for the rest of his natural life. They opened a shop, which gave them employ- ment ; and as Gervase paid their rent for them, they lived very comfortably. But they always took their meals in the caravan, for John vowed he never had an appetite anywhere else. Joanna and Mrs. Marks got on admirably, and had one especial amusement and enjoy- ment in common — the singing of the praises of Gervase. Miss Blink — I speak it to the shame of the male sex — is still unmarried. She has withered up into a little shred, like a piece of bitter lemon-peel, very dry. And her u 2 296 THE LOST LINK. amiability has not deserted her, for she still hops about from house to house at South- stone, like a bird of ill omen. And as surely as Miss Blink makes a round of calls, so surely is there ill-feeling — so surely are there bickerings and misunderstandings, rumours and contradictions, until the whole town is in convulsions. By-and-by there’s a grand scene — an explanation and clearing up ensue, and all the mischief is traced to Miss Blink ; whereupon the aggrieved parties all vow they’ll have nothing more to say to her, and won’t go near her, and deny themselves when she calls. But Miss Blink is a philo- sopher. She doesn’t mind. She stops at home for a little while, and, being flung on her own resources for amusement, she seeks diversion in the exercise of her imagination. When she has thought out a few pleasantly - scandalous pictures, she fits names to them, and the recent explosion having been by that time forgotten, she sallies out for another round of calls ; and so on, da capo, till some day, when, during the prevalence of a strong easterly wind, Miss Blink shall WINDING UP MANY HISTORIES. 297 dry up into a crooked, crabbed stick, to be flung, unrecognised, behind the fire. That is the nearest approach to death possible for her. She is not alive, and therefore cannot die ; she is a simple case of parchment, in- flated with ill -humours, and fated to shrivel into nothing. It is so short a time since we visited the “ Ring of Bells,” that there is nothing new to tell about that. It still flourishes, and Bartle is an improving place. The railway brings prosperity with it wherever it goes — if it does not bring invariable prosperity to its shareholders. It seems rather an unfair arrangement that it should benefit everybody except them — should even benefit opponents. For did not the Canal Company at Bartle, which it was supposed had been ruined by the competition of the rail, make a handsome penny during that very dry summer we had a few years since — by selling water to the railway ? Yes, Bartle is an improving place, and so is Southstone. As for Seamouth — why, there’s no room for improvement there, of 298 THE LOST LINK. course ! When a seaport has actually been honoured with a visit from Royalty, it has reached the acme of bliss, prosperity, and perfection. Mr. and Mrs. Flossett were now comfort- ably settled in their house at Brighton. It was a very splendid mansion, furnished luxuriantly, and admirably appointed. Mrs. Flossett was happy. She had a carriage that was the wonder of Brighton, as it flashed along the Parade with its gorgeous footmen, its magnificent horses, and its un- surpassable coachman, who sat like a statue on the box, with his chin in a bouquet of choice flowers, and with a spun glass wig on his head. Her Majesty cannot boast such a coachman ! When next you’re at Brighton keep your eyes open, and I’ll bet you’ll see him and recognise him. He is really worth seeing. He is the pride of Mrs. Flossett’s heart. She has reached the summit of her old ambition — the best of dresses, the rarest of jewels are hers. She gives capital parties, and is universally esteemed in the very first society. But she had a better ambition to WINDING UP MANY HISTORIES. 299 satisfy now ; she is happy in her home and her husband. She anticipates his little wishes and fancies, and misses no opportu- nity of pleasing him ; so that Flossett is one of the jolliest old boys under the sun. His old liking for good company and swells is gratified to the fullest, and his little harmless selfishnesses are petted. He, in his turn, attends to his wife’s wishes, and is for ever loading her with handsome presents. Upon my word, I think these two old fools, as their friends called them when they married, made a very sensible match, and lead as happy a life as Corydon and Phyllis, who were married the other day; happier it may be, for Corydon’s means are limited, and Phyllis’s tastes are not, and the warmest affection is a little checked when the supplies are short and Beauty must forego a new bonnet. It’s all very well for Corydon to tell her he likes her best in the old one ; but Phyllis is not to be deceived, and thinks him shabby. And when once a man seems to be mean in money matters in a woman’s eyes, there’s an end of all love. 300 THE LOST LINK. So, in the end, Mr. and Mrs. Flossett are not such old fools as people supposed. They married for their own happiness, not that of our friends ; and, after all, the former is what people ought to marry for. So here is “ Mr. and Mrs. Flossett’s good health,” who married, and lived happily ever after. ( 301 ) CHAPTER XIX. WHICH IS SHORT. mHERE is little more to tell. The last 1 chapter has disposed of the greater part of the characters who have occupied the stage at different times. Bartlett is now a Q.C. — for several years have elapsed since he volunteered for the post of “ Polly’s nurse.” Polly is a great girl now, but she hasn’t forgotten Bartlett’s kindness. The pair of gorgeous slippers which he wears at this moment as he sits by the fire conning a brief, are her work. He looks a little older and more careworn than he used to do. He’s not likely to look younger or freer from care, for they say he is likely to be elected for Braxted at the next election. The worthy electors of 302 THE LOST LINK. Braxted have hitherto been represented by Sir Benjamin Brassiface ; but in consequence of his connection with the London, Med- worth, and Chalkham scandals, he has not been quite so popular of late, and it has been suggested to him that he would best benefit his party by withdrawing. Should he listen to this excellent council, it is con- fidently stated that Bartlett will be returned. He is wanted in Parliament : for, when next his party comes into power, an Attorney- General and a Solicitor- General will be re- quired, and there is a lack of legal strength on that side of the House. He will probably be very successful in Parliament, for he is a good lawyer, and can speak fluently, and, what is more important, argue logically. There is a great and brilliant career before him, and I am glad he has made up his mind to enter the House : for he and Gervase (for reasons to be shortly mentioned) are not so much to- gether as of old, and he has been in danger of sinking into a solitary melancholy exist- ence. The House of Commons, the best of CONCLUSION. 303 all the Clubs, will give him a new purpose, fresh associations, and pleasant society. It will do this at least, if it does not awake in him, as I fancy it will, higher aspirations and a nobler ambition. He has the making of a statesman in him, and, as his model states- man is Mr. Gladstone, he goes to a good school, and may carry off a high prize yet. As for Gervase, he has carried off a prize that will satisfy him for life. He and Mary are married, and in the complete sunshine of their happiness can look back on the gloomy past, not perhaps without a feeling of sad- ness, but at all events without pain. Gervase has, with his wife’s consent, sold the estate in Wales, and has bought a fine property in Hertfordshire, where there’s a noble park, with a grand old Elizabethan mansion standing in the midst of it, led up to by a majestic avenue of beeches. Mary has presented her lord with three children — two boys and a girl. You may be sure both parents are mighty proud of the little ones. Bartlett and I are sufficiently wise in our generation to tell both father 304 THE LOST LINK. and mother that theirs are undoubtedly the most wonderful children we ever saw — and "of a truth they are pretty little creatures. Gervase makes a capital country gentle- man. Bartlett vows that he is becoming a Tory in his old age, and threatens to oppose him if he stands for the county ; for there is some talk of a requisition to ask him to stand for it at the next election. But, if Gervase is wise, Gervase won’t do anything of the sort. Parliament is just the thing for lonely old Bartlett; but Gervase has a wife and family, and Home is better than the House. THE END. WYMAN ANT) SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONDON, W.C. CoDBri Hade in Italy 09-10 MIN wwwxoUbnsystJBmxom