CHAPTER XXII

THE PLOT

But that Canning fairly ran away, George would have stopped him to ask further questions. He had told much which was new and strange and explained a great deal: but his last remark hinted at further difficulties.

Apparently, Hale had not yet given up all idea of procuring the money, although how he hoped to do so in the absence of the child, George could not understand. Of course, Walker felt very certain that Hale had kept back the amethyst cross when sending the jewels to Lord Charvington, but its production by Hale would have no effect on Mr. Jabez. The lawyer wanted the cross to be produced by the child of Katherine Morse--whatever her married name might be and, according to Hale himself, the dying woman had no child. Mrs. Walker, indeed, had stated that her sister had written about a sick child, but this had probably died. If not, surely during all these twenty years the child would have come forward to recover its inheritance.

George was naturally puzzled with this new development, and decided that to learn the truth it would be best to go to the fountain head. That is, if Hale intended to use the cross to procure the money he would have to produce it to Mr. Jabez in his office in Lincoln's Inn Fields. It was thus best to go at once to Mr. Jabez and inform him of what Canning had said about this new plot. What Maud Ellis had to do with the matter it was impossible to say; George could no more understand her connection with the matter than he could understand why Lady Charvington had employed Captain Sargent to get her the cross. What possible interest could she have in the amethyst cross? And why had she told a deliberate lie about its being in the library?

George was quite bewildered with the complicated state of affairs. And Jabez, as he believed, alone could solve the mystery.

George duly gave his mother Lord Charvington's message. She received it in silence, but with a change of colour, which did not escape his notice.

"Mother," he asked abruptly, "what do you know about Lord Charvington?"

"He was not Lord Charvington when I knew him," confessed Mrs. Walker, after a pause, "but Philip Hale. Hale, you know, is the family name and Lesbia's father bears it as a cousin. Charvington had not come into the title some twenty and more years ago. I knew him very well and liked him," she sighed, "but he was always weak."

George looked incredulous. "Weak," he echoed, "he seems to me to be a very strong man and one who knows his own mind."

"He has no doubt learned by experience," replied Mrs. Walker, "and heaven only knows how badly he needed to learn. So he is going to speak at last. He should have done so long ago."

"About what, mother?"

Mrs. Walker pursed up her mouth. "Never mind, George, I prefer that Lord Charvington should tell his own story. If he does, Walter Hale will find himself in trouble, and I shall be glad of that. I have waited long to see him punished: soon I shall be satisfied."

"Why do you hate Hale so, mother?"

"I have every cause to hate him," cried Mrs. Walker vindictively, and her eyes glittered. "Years ago I loved Walter Hale."

"You--loved--that--man?" said her son slowly.

"What is there strange in that?" snapped his mother, trying to keep her restless hands still. "He was handsome and clever and rich. I loved him and I thought that he loved me. I gave him my heart and found out only too late that he was playing with me. He was always cruel and wicked and hard, selfish to the core and thinking only of himself. We were engaged," added Mrs. Walker, drooping her head, and in a lower tone, "and he confessed then that he had very little money. He believed that I was an heiress, and so I was to the extent of fifty thousand pounds. My father did not like him and declared that if I married Walter he would cut me off with a shilling. I did not care, for I loved the man for himself: but he loved me for my money, and when he learned my father's decision he threw me over, and went after some other woman who was rich."

"Lesbia's mother?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Walker, pretending indifference; "but he vanished out of my life, and I heard that he was courting this heiress, in the hope of making a good marriage for his pocket. I was left alone, and I married your father Aylmer Walker, not because I loved him, but because he was kind and sympathetic. Aylmer was a spendthrift and wasted all my money; all the same he was kind-hearted and not a scoundrel like Walter Hale. Then you were born and shortly afterwards misfortunes came. I was only married four years when your father broke his neck leaving me penniless. Then Kate eloped with"--Mrs. Walker paused--"she eloped, that is all I can say. I saw Walter Hale again and learned, and learned--oh!" he rose and wrung out her hands, "what a villain the man is. But he shall be punished now. I swear if Charvington will not punish him, I shall punish him myself."

"But mother----"

"Not a word," cried Mrs. Walker passionately, "I can't bear to discuss the matter. When we meet at Charvington's place, the long-hidden truth will come to light. Until then----" she stopped, closed her mouth, shook her head, and left the room hastily.

George wondered what could be the hidden truth she referred to, but could come to no conclusion. He wrote a letter to Lesbia saying that she was to come to Lord Charvington's place, and stating that he would call to take her over. Then he smoked a pipe and retired to bed, intending the next day to go to London and see Mr. Jabez in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Mrs. Walker did not put in an appearance again on that evening. Of course George, as a lover, lay awake and thought of Lesbia. He was sorely inclined to postpone his visit to Mr. Jabez, and go over to Marlow on the morrow, but it was necessary to execute business before indulging in pleasure, since, when everything was settled, he would have Lesbia beside him always as his dear wife. He therefore restrained his longing for a sight of her face, and gradually dropped off to sleep.

Next morning Mrs. Walker had her breakfast in bed and did not see her son. George left a message that he would return in the evening, and went to Henley in his boat to catch the mid-day train. He soon arrived in London, and without wasting time went to see Mr. Jabez.

The old lawyer had a large and expensive office in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and from the number of clerks was apparently much sought after as a solicitor. He received Walker as soon as the young man sent in his card, as it seemed that George had luckily arrived during the slack season. "A week ago," said Mr. Jabez, in his precise way, "I should have had to keep you waiting for some hours."

The room in which Jabez received his client--as George was--was a large apartment with a painted ceiling and three long windows looking out on to the gardens of the square. Probably in Georgian days it had held brilliant company, but now, since the tide of fashion had rolled farther to the west, it was given over to the dry-as-dust details of the law. Jabez looked as hatchet-faced as ever, and still wore his large blue spectacles to aid his weak eyes. He welcomed George politely in his dry way, and waited to hear what the young man had to say.

"Lord Charvington wants you to come down to The Court the day after to-morrow at three o'clock," said George abruptly.

"Why?" demanded Jabez quietly, and more puzzled than he chose to admit.

"I can only answer you by telling you all that has taken place," answered the young man, and forthwith related what he knew.

Nursing his chin in the hollow of his hand, Jabez crossed his lean legs and listened quietly enough, nodding at intervals. "I thought it would come to this," he observed, when the young man ended.

"Come to what?"

"An explanation."

"Of what?"

"Of many things which will astonish you," said Jabez drily. "Of course I was acquainted with Lord Charvington when he was merely the Honourable Philip Hale. Then----" Jabez suspended further confidences. "It is best to allow Lord Charvington to speak for himself."

"Do you know what he intends to say?"

"Partly. And yet," mused the solicitor, looking at his neat shoes, "there may be something interesting which I do not know. However, the main point is that I shall arrange to be there at the stated time. The gathering promises to be interesting. The cross," Jabez stopped, "h'm! yes, the cross. I see now how Hale got it."

"He stole it from Lady Charvington, who procured it from Sargent, who employed Canning to thieve it from me," explained George.

"So you said before, and I am not so stupid as to require a double explanation," said Jabez crustily, "but I am wondering how Hale hopes to get the money by means of this cross. Certainly he declares that he has found the child, and----"

"What!" cried George, starting to his feet in amazement.

Jabez looked up and raised a hand. "Don't speak so loud, your voice goes through my head," he said in his testy manner. "Yes," he searched amongst some papers, "here is a letter from Walter Hale saying that he will call to-morrow at noon with the child of Katherine Morse----"

"Doesn't he mention my aunt's married name?"

"No," answered Jabez, sucking in his cheeks, "and that is what makes me suspicious of the affair. However, what you have told me to-day about Lady Charvington's share in the business, and her husband's attitude gives me an idea. Send a wire to Lord Charvington asking him to meet you here to-morrow. Then you can both see Mr. Hale and this child."

"I should like to, but what use----"

"There! There. I have no time to waste. Go and do what you are told," said Jabez, rising with an angry gesture. "I may be wrong and I may be right. But putting two and two together----" he stopped and walked to the window, musingly, "yes, I believe it may be so."

"What may be so?" questioned George, picking up his hat.

Jabez wheeled crossly. "Oh, you are there still. Go away and send that wire. At noon to-morrow, bring Lord Charvington here. Good-day," he rang the bell, "get out, young Walker, you are taking up my time."

Wondering at the behaviour of the lawyer, George departed and forthwith sent a prepaid wire to Charvington, asking him to come to the Lincoln's Inn Fields office. He had half a mind to go down and explain personally, but as he could not explain very much he relied on the wire, hoping that Charvington's curiosity would be sufficiently aroused to make him obey the summons. Late in the afternoon an answer came intimating that Charvington would be at Jabez's office at the appointed time. George was greatly pleased, as he foresaw that Hale's little plot would in some way be frustrated, Charvington apparently knew of much to Hale's disadvantage; hence the wily old lawyer had induced him to be present. Having come to this conclusion Walker wired to his mother saying that he would remain in London, and employed his evening in going to a music hall. He positively had to do so, for if he had remained alone in his hotel brooding over riddles which he could by no means solve, he felt that his brain would not bear the strain. Still, in a vague way, he felt that all things were being shaped to a happy end and that light was coming out of the darkness which had enshrouded things for so long.

At a quarter to twelve in the morning George met Charvington in the semi-courtyard in front of the mansion, wherein Jabez had his office. The elder man jumped out of the hansom, in which he had driven from the railway station, and walked towards the young one with an elastic step, after he had paid his fare.

"What's all this, Walker?" he demanded abruptly. "Why did you wire for me to come up on this day, and at this hour, and to this place?"

"Come upstairs to Mr. Jabez and he'll explain," said George, leading the way up the steps, "we cannot linger here. Hale may see us."

"Hale," Charvington followed hurriedly and caught the young man's arm, "and why is Hale coming here?"

"He has found--so he says--my cousin."

"Your--cousin?"

"My aunt's child--the heir to the property which Mr. Jabez has held for so long."

Charvington stopped on the landing. "So Hale is going to anticipate me," he muttered, and without waiting to be announced he opened the door of Jabez's private room and strode in. The lawyer looked up irritably.

"I'm engaged. You, Lord Charvington? Well, I might have guessed as much from your abrupt entry. You haven't changed much in your impulsive ways."

Lord Charvington threw down his hat and stick and gloves and flung himself into a chair. "I have changed very much in looks," he retorted; "however there is no time for these personalities. Walker," he indicated the young man who had followed him closely, "tells me that Hale intends to produce the heiress to his aunt's property."

Jabez looked inquisitively at Charvington through his blue spectacles. "I believe so," he said quietly and cautiously, with a glance at his watch. "Hale will bring the girl here in a few minutes."

"It's a girl then," sneered Charvington.

"You mentioned the word 'heiress' yourself," remarked Jabez, with emphasis.

"A mere guess. And what of the cross?"

"Hale says that the girl will produce it."

"Humph! I don't believe that the girl will produce stolen property. You know that the cross was stolen from my house?"

"So I believe," said Jabez politely.

"Yes, Walker here told me, though how it got into my library----"

"I can tell you that now, Lord Charvington," interposed George, "as I heard the truth from Canning the other day. Sargent employed Canning to steal the cross in order to pass it over to your wife."

Charvington bounded from his chair. "What did she want with it?"

"I can't say--I don't----"

"Hush," said Jabez, who, at the sound of wheels in the courtyard, had gone to one of the tall windows; "here come Hale and his heiress. Go into the next room with Walker, Lord Charvington. When I require you I shall summon you."

"But why do you bring me here at all?" demanded Charvington brusquely.

Jabez looked straight at him and his long fingers played a tune on the table. "I have an idea," he said gravely; "you may be able to tell me if that idea is correct."

"What is the idea?"

"I cannot tell it to you, until I see this heiress."

"Very good." Charvington sat down again. "Introduce her and Hale."

"No! No!" said Jabez anxiously, "that would never do. Wait until I hear Hale's story and then----"

"Hale will only tell you a pack of lies," interrupted Charvington violently. "And besides he stole the cross and----"

Jabez put his hand against the breast of the angry speaker and pushed him gently towards a side door. "Go in there and wait," he said insistently. "You also, Walker."

"No," cried Charvington, "I shan't."

"If you don't," said the solicitor very quietly, "I shall wash my hands of this matter. Already Hale and his heiress are waiting in the ante-chamber, and if your voice is recognised, they will not come in."

"Why not?"

"Because I believe that this is another of Hale's wicked schemes. Let me hear the whole invention he has made up, and then I can call upon you to substantiate the story."

"But I can't wait. I want to know who this girl is."

"Can't you guess?" demanded Jabez, leading him deftly to the door of the inner room where he wished him to wait.

"I can do more than guess, I know."

"Humph," muttered Jabez, "I thought so."

"You thought what?"

"Never mind. If you know rightly, you will be able to help me."

Charvington stamped. "I believe it's all lies. I want to see this girl."

"Well," said Jabez resignedly. "I shall do a thing I have never done before since you will not be quiet otherwise. In the panel of this door there is a small knot-hole. Look in and see if----"

Charvington rushed into the room, dragging Walker after him, and closed the door. Shortly afterwards they heard the entrance of two people. The old man applied an eye to the knot-hole. Then he laughed silently and made George apply his eye. "Look at the heiress," he said sneeringly.

Walker looked eagerly and saw--Maud Ellis.