The Mynns' Mystery Part 52

"No, you are not in the enemy's camp, sir," said the old lawyer sharply.

"You are with those friends who are going to find you in the sinews of war to carry on your campaign."

"True. Well, then, I'll speak out: I am going to run down this man who called himself George Harrington. We must meet."

"Good."

"He has disappeared for one of two reasons."

"Yes, sir; go on."

"He is an impostor."

"Not proven," said the doctor.

"Not yet. But his actions show it. He has disappeared with all the money he could get together, because, by some means, he heard that I was alive."

"Yes, that seems probable," said the doctor, as Mr Hampton turned the table into a piano and played upon it dumb tunes.

"Probable, but only my first idea, and I don't think it is the true solution."

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe he could have had a suspicion that I was alive."

"Then why did he go away?" said the lawyer sharply.

"That we must find out through Saul Harrington."

"Mr Saul Harrington is seriously ill," said Doctor Lawrence. "I saw him this morning at his request."

"What's the matter?"

"The injury to his arm. It seems he had a nasty fall upon one of the ice slopes in Switzerland, and the doctors there treated it wrongly.

It's a nasty case, and is giving me a deal of anxiety."

"He'll get well soon enough," said the lawyer roughly. "Go on, Mr Blank. Let's have the rest of your theory."

"My theory is, sir, that during one or other of the drinking bouts they had together the pseudo George Harrington let his tongue run rather fast, and Saul Harrington was too clever for him; he nailed him at once."

"He would have denounced him."

"He either would had I not come forward, or he has some reason for keeping it back."

"Not plausible, Mr Blank," said the lawyer shortly. "You are spoiling your own case."

"Perhaps so, sir, but I shall work it out my own way. What I feel sure of is this: my impersonator has gone never to return. Saul knew of his departure--of that I feel sure; and he was satisfied that he was all right as successor to the estate, when, to his dismay, he found me in the field."

"Humph?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Doctor Lawrence, patting the young man on the arm.

"I don't think we shall want a detective."

"Don't flatter him, Lawrence," said the lawyer tartly. "It's all moons.h.i.+ne. I don't like Saul Harrington; never did. But he would not have acted as our young frien--as young Mr Blank suggests."

"Perhaps not, sir. But I can say no more. My ideas are in a state of chaos at present. Still I am sure the case is somewhere in his tangle, and I mean to find it out."

"When do you begin?" said the doctor.

"I have begun, sir; and I am going on now."

"Down to The Mynns?"

"Perhaps. But I shall not try to see Miss Bellwood. I devote myself from this hour to the discovery of the mystery which means so much to me."

"Then you want money. How much do you require?" said the lawyer, the corners of whose mouth dropped as he spoke--"a hundred?"

"A hundred! No. I only want ten or fifteen pounds for the present. If that is not enough, I can ask for more. Give me ten."

The old man's mouth a.s.sumed its natural curve as he unlocked his table-drawer, exchanging glances with the doctor before taking out a little canvas bag, part of whose contents he counted into his hand.

"This is not the lawyer acting," he said drily; "but the--no I won't say friend--the seeker for justice. I would not do such a thing as this from the legal point of view, for the world. There, sir, twenty-five pounds in sovereigns. If you want more when that is gone come, or write."

"Thanks," said the young man, rising and taking the money, which he carefully counted as far as ten, returned the fifteen pounds, and took up his hat. "I'll send if I want more. Good-day, gentlemen; I shall wire or write."

The door closed; they saw him pa.s.s the window, and then the eyes of the two old men met.

"That's the man, Lawrence," said the lawyer, replacing the fifteen pounds.

"I haven't a doubt about it," was the reply.

"But he has only found a mare's nest yet."

"Humph! I don't quite know," said the doctor. "Well, I'll be off."

"Going?"

"Yes, to see Saul Harrington again. I don't like his condition."

"I never liked anything about him, Lawrence. But this is the man."

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

A LATE ARRIVAL.

The same questions were asked day by day, on either side, when Mr Hampton returned to The Mynns from his daily visits to town.

"Any news?"

"No."