CHAPTER XI

THE SEAMY SIDE

When Mr. Hale returned in three days from London, he was surprised to find Lesbia extremely cheerful. She had every right to be, since she had given the fifty-pound cheque to Canning, and he was now in town looking into the matter of the Henley burglary. How Canning managed to get away from his master so expeditiously, Lesbia could not tell, nor did she inquire. It was quite enough for her to know that The Shadow was searching into the case. To Lord Charvington she had sent a letter thanking him for the money, and promising to come over and tell him everything as soon as she could. These things made her hopeful and bright in spite of her enforced severance from George, and she managed, by looking towards a bright future, to possess her soul in patience. But Hale was ignorant of what she was doing, and her behaviour puzzled him.

"I thought you loved Walker," he said abruptly, and with suspicion.

"Of course I do," rejoined the girl cheerfully.

"It does not seem like it."

Lesbia shrugged her shoulders. "What is the use of crying over spilt milk?" she asked. "My going about with a long face will not make George's position any the more endurable. Some day when his character has been cleared things will change."

"They will never change," said Mr. Hale coldly and severely. "Walker has committed a sordid crime, and can never marry you."

"I don't believe that he is guilty," retorted Lesbia deliberately. "And even if I grant for the sake of argument that he is, Miss Ellis does not seem to think that his guilt is a bar to his marriage with her."

"She's a love-sick fool."

"So am I."

"With this difference, that she can marry him and you can't. And talking of Miss Ellis," went on Hale, becoming more stern than ever; "I saw her in London and she told me that you had actually been to see her."

"Why not?" asked Lesbia defiantly. "That is no crime."

"It is an impertinence to see her and to talk to her as you did. Why did you go, Lesbia?"

"I wished to find out how she proposed to force George to become her husband. I have learned that much. She intends to force him by telling a lie."

"How do you know that what she says is a lie?" demanded Hale angrily.

"Because I read it in her eyes. A man would not have done so, but I am a woman, and you can trust one woman to learn everything another woman leaves unsaid, especially when a man is the stake between them."

"You should have more modesty," snapped her father uncomfortably.

Lesbia coloured. "I have behaved properly in every way," she said, in a wounded voice; "and, as I love George, I had every right to learn how this woman proposed to take him from me."

"Well, you know now that she can."

"She _thinks_ she can," said Lesbia, with emphasis; "that is different."

"Nonsense! She can prove that he took the key from her neck and stole the jewels," insisted Mr. Hale.

"It is her word against his," rejoined Lesbia drily; "and until Miss Ellis proves the truth of her statement I believe in George's innocence."

"Lesbia," cried her father, rising, "what has come to you? Formerly you used to be quiet and well-behaved and did as you were told; now----"

"Now," said the girl, getting on her feet and looking very straight at her father; "now I am a woman, fighting for her happiness, and so will do my best to hold my own against your tyranny."

Hale did not like the word, and said so. "I am your father and no tyrant."

"You are both, and much more the latter than the former. I don't know how it is," said Lesbia, pondering, "but I have an idea that you are using me as a pawn in some game you are playing. Miss Ellis is in the game also, and so is Captain Sargent. What the game may be I don't know, and I decline to be pushed about a chess-board without knowing why I move."

"You shall do as you are told," said Hale, livid with secret rage, but not daring to show it openly, lest he should lose more of his already waning influence.

"I shall do as I think fit," retorted the girl, her spirit up in arms. "I don't care if you are fifty times my father, you shall not treat me in this way any longer. If I can clear George's character, I shall see him and marry him, and if you dare to bring in Mrs. Petty to spy on me, I shall appeal to my godfather."

"Your godfather. And who may he be?"

"You told me once and I have never forgotten. Lord Charvington is my----"

"I spoke at random," broke in Hale hastily. "He is not your godfather. He is nothing more than my cousin and my friend."

"And your benefactor," said Lesbia, unable to resist the shaft. "And being so, what will he say if he learns how unkindly you are behaving?"

"Lesbia, you are mad!"

"No! For years I have been your puppet. Lately I have discovered that I am a human being with a will of my own. So long as you leave me alone I am content to behave as your daughter. But I decline to endure tyranny, and I decline to be made use of in this mysterious game you are playing. I am very glad you spoke to me this morning, father, as it was time that we came to an understanding;" and Lesbia, with her head up, marched out of the room. But she would have been scared had she looked back and seen the expression on her father's face. It was little less than devilish with rage and baffled cunning.

The worm had been obedient for so long that Hale had never expected the turning and it came upon him with a shock. He could not afford to let Lesbia appeal for protection to his noble relative, as he knew that Lord Charvington was the kindest of men and would, undoubtedly, interfere.

Of course in an ordinary case, Hale could have prevented such interference between a father and daughter. But with Charvington, who allowed him an annuity, it was different. If Hale did not behave well to Lesbia, he felt very certain that Charvington would punish him by taking away the quarterly sum. And in spite of his business in the City, and his boast that he could give Lesbia two thousand a year, Hale could not afford to lose so certain an income.

He therefore said no more to Lesbia on the subjects of George and Miss Ellis and the burglary. Nor did he bring back The Shadow and Mrs. Petty. Indeed, he could not bring back the former, as he had heard from Sargent that the man had thrown up his situation, and had gone to London.

This being the case, if Lesbia chose to see George it was impossible to prevent her from having her own way. But Hale trusted that after the letter of dismissal George would refuse to have anything to do with the girl who had apparently thrown him over. Meanwhile he asked Sargent to the cottage frequently, and advised him to prosecute his wooing with all zeal. "If you don't secure the girl soon, you will lose her," said Hale emphatically.

"I shall do so as soon as I can get a chance of seeing her alone," said Sargent, and strove to look the handsome, gallant lover.

It was after dinner that he spoke thus; and in the light which came through the rosy shades of the candles he seemed wonderfully young, and not at all bad-looking. As usual, he was perfectly dressed in evening array, and yet had that ultra-fashionable air, which is such a mark of inferior breeding. Captain Alfred Sargent looked like a gentleman, and yet there was something lacking in manner to complete the dress and pretensions. The rosy lights made him look less colourless for the moment; but when in pursuance of his object he strolled into the garden to meet Lesbia, he became quite wan, white and worn-looking in the warm summer moonlight.

Miss Hale, in a simple white dress, looking sweet and girlish and remarkably pretty, sat on the bench under the chestnut--in the very place where George had made his memorable proposal. Disliking Sargent as she did, and the more so since her father wished her to marry him, she had early left the dinner-table to take refuge in this love-haunted spot, and dream of George.

With the inconsequence of a woman, she rather resented the fact that her lover had not replied to his letter of dismissal. She had not thought that he would accept her decision so readily, and in her heart she desired that he should come along to take her by storm. At times she fancied, indeed, that he would suddenly appear to carry her off to the nearest church, and so frequently sought the garden to afford him an opportunity to play "Young Lochinvar."

There was also another reason. In the garden she hoped to meet The Shadow. Lately, he had sent her a line--through Tim--stating that he had discovered a clue to the robbery, and that he would come down to tell her about it. Lesbia appointed the bottom of the garden as the best place of meeting as her father rarely came there, and Canning could easily row up to the landing-stage in the twilight. Every evening she expected him, but as yet he had not appeared. Thus, she was much annoyed when she beheld the slender form of the ex-captain in the distance.

With a cigarette in his mouth, which he was languidly smoking, Sargent strolled pensively down the path, and finally came to a halt before the pretty figure on the garden-seat. Lesbia looked at him blankly, and gave him no encouragement.

"A penny for your thoughts, Miss Hale," said the gallant captain, forced by her silence to utter the first word.

"They are worth the Bank of England," replied Lesbia, resolving to make the best of this bore, since to get rid of him by plain speaking only meant unnecessary trouble with her father.

"In that case," said Sargent softly, and advancing nearer, "may I hope they were of me?"

"If you are so very egotistic," said the girl bitingly, "you can think so."

"You are cruel," muttered Sargent, somewhat disconcerted. He had not expected so cutting a speech from so apparently timid a girl. "Why are you so cruel to me, Lesbia--I may call you Lesbia, may I not?"

"No," said Lesbia coldly, "I see no reason why you should. As to being cruel, Captain Sargent, I am not aware that I am."

"Surely," fenced the captain, "you are aware that I love you."

Lesbia laughed, and he was more disconcerted than ever. "I am aware that my father wishes me to marry you; but he said nothing of love."

"He left it for me to say."

"Well, then, say it," remarked Miss Hale cruelly.

Sargent had met plenty of women and, with his good looks and reputation for wealth, had usually scored an easy victory. But this girl was so straightforward and so absolutely calm that he did not know how to proceed. With an uneasy laugh he strove to fall into her humour. "I love you," he stammered.

"Why?" asked Lesbia, still calm and exasperating.

"Look in the glass, and ask me why," he said ardently. "Can I behold such loveliness and----"

"Captain Sargent," she broke in, smiling broadly, "you speak just like a lover of the mid-Victorian epoch. I have read such speeches in books, and I have always thought them exceedingly silly. Be more original!"

Don Giovanni himself would have turned restive when advised to alter his style of love-making, and Captain Sargent's waxen face grew red with wrath. He was a bloodless person, so his anger was more like that of a fretful child than that of a man.

Lesbia looked at him with a contempt which he found hard to bear. She wanted a man to master her as all women do, and she saw that this wooer could never dominate.

"You are very unkind, Lesbia," was all that Sargent could find to say.

"In that case, why not leave me and go back to my father?"

"Because I came from your father. He wants you to marry me. I want it also. Come," he went on coaxingly, "be my wife, Lesbia, and you shall have everything that the world can give you."

"I daresay. Everything but a husband."

"I shall be your husband."

"You!" she looked him up and down until he reddened to the roots of his straw-coloured hair. "I would rather be excused."

"You won't marry me."

"Certainly not."

Sargent grew childish with rage. "If you do not there will be trouble. I can ruin that man you love--that bounder Walker!"

"He is not a bounder; he is a man, and it will take a stronger man than you, Captain Sargent, to harm him."

"But I _can_ harm him, and I shall do so," cried the captain, and his delicate face took on an expression of cunning. Weak as he was, Lesbia could see that wounded vanity might make him dangerous. "This burglary----"

"What do you know about it?" demanded Lesbia imperiously.

"Walker is guilty. Miss Ellis says so."

"For her own ends she says so, and you act in the same way. She wants to marry George, and you want to marry me. It won't do, Captain Sargent. Things are not to be settled in that fashion. You had better," she laughed, "marry Miss Ellis yourself."

"I love you; I want to marry you."

"I am sorry," said Lesbia sedately, "but I decline."

"For your father's sake," urged Sargent weakly, angry, and looking more dangerously cunning than ever. "I can harm him also. I can----" He saw from the startled expression on the girl's face that he was saying too much, and abruptly turned on his heel. "I shall come for my answer to-morrow, Lesbia," he called out, as he walked swiftly towards the house.

The girl remained where she was, wondering what this new threat meant. She could understand how he could support her father and Maud in harming George, but it was difficult to understand how he could harm Mr. Hale.

In a flash the old unrest came over Lesbia, and she again pondered her father's unaccountable secrecy, and recalled his shady acquaintances. Then again, there was Canning, who was a gentleman and had been to school with Mr. Hale, only to degenerate into Sargent's valet. It was all very singular and somewhat startling, and Lesbia puzzled over it hopelessly, until she was aroused from a somewhat painful brown study by a low whistle.

She looked up and around, to see a boat by the landing-stage, and in the boat Mr. Canning, apparently more frail than ever. Sargent was also shadowy, and it dawned upon Lesbia that the two might be related.

"Captain Sargent has just left me," she said, running down to the landing-stage. "He wanted to marry me and I refused."

"You were quite right, Miss Hale. If you married Sargent, you would be ruined for ever."

"He threatened to harm my father if I did not, and George also."

Mr. Canning threw back his head and laughed silently. "He can do his best to harm Walker by supporting Miss Ellis in her lie, but it will take a much stronger man than Alfred to----" here he became aware that he had appeared unduly familiar with his late master's name.

"I thought so," said Lesbia, recalling how like the two men were in looks and fragility; "you are related to Captain Sargent; you are his brother."

"Yes," said Mr. Canning, looking very pale. "Since you have guessed so cleverly I may as well admit it. But I shall not tell you my story now. Later will be time enough. Meanwhile, say nothing to your father about having guessed that Alfred is my brother. How did you----"

"Oh," said Lesbia smiling, "you are exactly alike. Both pale and both slender, with the same cast of face and the same colour of hair, and--oh, it's wonderful!--I believe you are twins."

Mr. Canning shirked this question. He came ashore and passed with Lesbia under the chestnut tree, behind the trunk, in fact, so that they might not be seen from the cottage windows.

"I have discovered the truth," he said, in his usual whisper, "but at present you must not ask me how I came to learn it. But George Walker is innocent. Mr. Tait had the jewels stolen so as to get the insurance money."

Lesbia gasped with amazement. "Are you certain?" she demanded, and when he nodded, asked another question. "How did you learn so quickly?"

"That is a secret just now," said Canning equably. "Remember that I warned you before, that you must not ask that question. It is sufficient to say that I found out how Mr. Tait insured these jewels for a large sum of money, and then employed two clever London thieves to steal them. Tait will get the insurance money, and he will also unset the jewels and sell them in India and America. Of course, the thieves will have to be paid for the risk they took, though it was not a great one, as Tait left the gallery doors open, and gave them the key which he had on his watch-chain to open the safe. If Miss Ellis had not come down; if Walker had not followed, there would have been no scandal."

"Mr. Canning," said Lesbia, after a moment's thought, "did Miss Ellis know that this robbery was about to take place? From all that I have heard of her she is deep in her uncle's confidence."

"I cannot be sure if she is an accessory before the fact," replied Canning, speaking in legal phraseology.

"But I can," cried the girl, leaping to a conclusion with the intuitive certainty of a woman. "I see the whole scheme. Miss Ellis knew that the jewels would be stolen somewhere about three o'clock in the morning, and so appointed that hour to meet George, and implicate him in the crime. It was a carefully arranged trap into which he walked wholly unconsciously."

"But her reason?" asked Canning, somewhat perplexed.

Lesbia laughed. "You are a mere man, Mr. Canning, and cannot understand. It takes a woman to fathom the duplicity of another woman. Miss Ellis loved George, and as he would not marry her willingly, she lured him into this trap, so as to--oh!" Lesbia broke off, clenching her little fists and stamping with anger. "But she shall not! she shall not! I shall see her and defy her. And you, Mr. Canning--you?"

"I am returning to London, to hide," said the man quietly; "but I can come down here when it is necessary. I shall send you my address as soon as I arrange where to conceal myself."

"But why should you conceal yourself?"

"That is too long a story to tell you at present. It is enough for you to know that what I have discovered about Tait--what I have told you--is dangerous to me. No, Miss Hale, do not ask me further questions, for I dare not answer. I have jeopardised my liberty, and perhaps my life, by what I have done for you."

"I do not understand," said Lesbia, somewhat scared.

"It is as well that you do not," said Canning, sombrely. "Bluebeard's chamber is a dangerous room to look into. When it is necessary--if it ever is--you shall know what I am concealing now. Meanwhile, I shall go into hiding in London."

"What am I to do?"

"See Miss Ellis," rejoined The Shadow promptly. "Tell her what I have discovered, and give my name as your authority--that is, say how Captain Sargent's servant looked into the matter. You can suppress the fact of my being a gentleman and Sargent's brother. Tell Miss Ellis also that when the time comes I can prove that her uncle had the jewels stolen so as to get the insurance money, in addition to the money from the sale of the jewels in order to tide over a financial crisis. Twenty thousand from the jewels and a like amount from Lloyd's," ended Canning cynically, "will give Mr. Tait ample funds with which to retrieve his position. He was in danger of bankruptcy, but this crime, engineered by himself, has saved his credit."

"What wickedness!" murmured Lesbia, as Canning moved towards his boat.

"Oh, such doings are classed under the head of business by people like Tait. But I must get away before my brother or your father sees me;" and Canning loosened the painter, slipped into the boat, and took the oars, not without an anxious glance at the cottage.

"Thank you for what you have done," cried Lesbia softly, remaining, for obvious reasons, behind the tree-trunk.

"Not at all. I have only repaid my debt--that is, if such a debt can ever be paid. Au revoir, Miss Hale!" and raising his shabby cap with all the good breeding of a gentleman, Canning pulled away with an easy, clean stroke, which could only have been learned at a public school.