Witness to the Deed Part 23

Sir Mark sat silent and thoughtful in the corner of his carriage as he and Guest were driven back, till they were near the house, when he turned suddenly to his companion.

"Thank you, Guest," he said warmly. "Nothing like a friend in need.

Hang it, sir, I'd sooner take my s.h.i.+ps into action again than meet my guests here at home. But it has to be done," he said, "and our side beaten. I will not believe that Mr Barron is guilty, nor yet that I could have been made a fool. The man is a gentleman, and I'll stand by him to the last in spite of all that is said against him. What do you say, sir--what do you say?"

"Do you wish me to speak, Sir Mark?"

"Of course."

"Then I say that the man is an utter scoundrel; that you have been horribly deceived; and that--there, I am making you angry."

"Not a bit, Guest; not a bit. I'm afraid you are right, but I must fight this out."

The door was reached and Sir Mark uttered a sigh of relief, for there was no crowd--not a carriage to be seen; and, upon entering the house, it was to find that every friend and visitor had departed.

Sir Mark strode in upright and firm, and Guest stopped to say good-bye.

"No, no, my lad; don't leave me yet," said the old man. "Come up and face the ladies first."

He led the way up into the drawing room, expecting to find Myra prostrate; but there was only one figure to greet him--his sister. The door, however, had hardly closed before Edie, who had been with her cousin, ran into the room flushed and eager.

"Where is Myra?"

"Lying down, uncle. We--auntie and I--persuaded her to go to her room."

"Is she much broken down--much--"

"My dear Mark!" cried his sister sharply, "Myra is a sensible girl.

Now, then, don't keep us in suspense. Tell me: is it all true about that man?"

"Yes, Rebecca--I mean no," cried Sir Mark furiously; "of course not, and I'm going to instruct counsel and--damme, it's some enemy's work. I'll pour such a broadside into him! Why, confound it all!" he cried, as a sudden thought struck him, and he turned to Guest, "this must be some of your friend's work."

"Sir Mark!"

"Oh, uncle!"

"Don't talk stuff, Mark," cried his sister almost at the same moment.

"Is it likely? Then it is all true. What an escape! Well, I'm glad it happened when it did."

Sir Mark gave a furious stamp on the floor, but turned calmly enough on Guest offering his hand.

"You will excuse me now, Sir Mark."

"Eh? What? Going? Well, if you must. But don't leave me in the lurch, my lad. Come back and have a bit of dinner with me. I shall be very dull. No; I won't ask you here. It will be miserable. Meet me at the club."

Guest promised, and then shook hands with Miss Jerrold, who pressed his fingers warmly; but when he turned to say good-bye to Edie she was not in the room.

"Too upset," he muttered as he went down. "Might have said good-bye, though."

"Good-bye, Mr Guest," came from the little conservatory half-way down to the hall; and there was Edie waiting. "No, no; don't stop me. I must run up to Myra. Good-bye, Percy. Oh, I am so glad."

"Good-bye, _Percy_--good-bye, _Percy_," Guest kept on saying to himself as he walked slowly along one side of the square. "_Percy_, for the first time. Good Heavens, Mal!" he cried, starting as a hand was thrust under his arm--"you? I was coming on. I've something particular to tell you."

"Thank you," said Stratton quietly. "I know everything."

"What? I did not see you at the church."

"No; I had not the heart to come. I said I would, but I stayed away."

"Good. Right," said Guest.

"But I was obliged to come to see her go--for one glance unseen."

"And you saw the arrest?"

"I saw the struggle in the crowd. A man hurried into a cab, which was driven off. I was some distance away--in the square."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Guest, and then there was a pause, broken at last by Stratton, who said solemnly:

"Saved from a life of misery and despair. Thank G.o.d! thank G.o.d!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

WIFE TO A CONVICT.

Sir Mark awoke the next morning thoroughly convinced that he had been the victim of a scoundrel, but he kept his word, and did everything possible in the way of providing able legal a.s.sistance for his son-in-law. He had taken Myra and her cousin at once to a retired seaside place within easy reach of town, and made James Dale's case the sole business of his life.

It was a two days' business, that trial, owing to the efforts made by the counsel for the defence, who fought their client's cause gallantly.

But it was a losing game from beginning to end; the proofs were utterly crus.h.i.+ng. James Dale had obtained a large income from the forgeries for years, and his companion in the iniquity had purchased property extensively. The West Indian estates were certainly in existence, and belonged to a family named Barron, but in the prisoner's case the name was a.s.sumed, and in his real patronymic he, with his confederate, was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude.

"Deserved it, every hour," said Sir Mark, with a sigh of relief, as he drove away from the court with Guest. "Now for a few months of quiet abroad, and then I shall have to see the lawyers again."

Guest looked at him inquiringly.

"Eh? What do I mean? Well, I don't understand much about such matters, but surely under the circ.u.mstances the laws of England will not keep my child tied to such a rascal as that."

Guest was about to speak, but the old man interrupted him.

"Fancy, my lad, after an apprentices.h.i.+p of seven years to a convict's life that fellow knocking at my door, and Andrews coming up to say that he had called for his wife."

Guest shuddered: the idea was horrible.

"No, no, my lad; that would not do at all. But there, say no more about it now. By and by I shall hear what the lawyers think about a divorce."

They shook hands and parted, the admiral going home, and Guest straight to his friend's chambers, where he knocked, but there was no answer.

Brettison came out, though, from the adjoining room.