Part 52 (1/2)
”Not at all, Mr. O'Meara. I expect that this young man can give us all the help we need.”
”I,” burst out Ray. ”You mistake, sir; I can not help you.”
”Softly, sir; softly; reflect a little, this is no time for over-nice scruples; besides, I know too much already. We three are here to help Clifford Heath. Mr. Vandyck, can you not trust to our discretion; you may be able, unknown to yourself, to speak the word that will free your friend from the foulest charge that was ever preferred against a man.
Will you answer my questions frankly, or--must we set detectives to hunt for the information you could so easily give?”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Softly, Sir; softly; reflect a little.”]
The calm, resolute tones of the stranger have their weight with the mystified Ray. Instinctively he feels the power of the man, and the weight of the argument.
”What do you wish to know, sir?” he says, quietly. ”I am ready to serve Clifford Heath.”
”Ah, very good;” signing to O'Meara. ”First, sir, as a friend of Doctor Heath, do you know if he has recently had any trouble, any disappointment? He is a young man. Has he been jilted, or--”
”Ah-h-h!” breaks in O'Meara; ”why didn't you ask _me_ that, Wedron? Upon my soul, I have heard plenty about this same business.”
”Then take the witness stand, sir. What do you know? _You_ won't be over delicate in bringing facts to the surface.”
”Why,” rubbing his hands serenely, ”I can't see your drift, Wedron, any more than can Vandyck here; but I have heard Mrs. O'Meara discuss the probable future of Clifford Heath, until I have it by heart. Not long ago she was sure he, Heath, was in love with Miss Wardour, and we all thought she rather favored him, although it's hard to guess at a woman's real feelings. Later, quite lately, in fact, the thing seemed to be all off, and my wife has commented on it not a little.”
”Oh!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.es Mr. Wedron. ”And--had Doctor Heath any rivals?”
”Miss Wardour has always plenty of lovers; but I believe that Mr. Frank Lamotte was the only rival he ever had any reason to fear.”
”Ah! so Mr. Frank Lamotte has been Heath's rival? Handsome fellow, that Lamotte! Mr. Vandyck,” turning suddenly upon Ray, ”the ice is now broken. What do you know, or think, or believe, about this attachment to Miss Wardour?”
”I think that Heath really hoped to win her at one time, and I believed his chances were good. Something, I don't know what, has come between them.”
”Do you think she has refused him?”
”Honestly, I don't, sir. I think there is a misunderstanding.”
”And young Lamotte, what of him?”
”I suppose he has come in ahead; in fact, have very good cause for thinking him engaged to Miss Wardour.”
”Bah!” cries O'Meara, contemptuously, ”I don't believe it. There's nothing sly about Constance. She would have told me or my wife.”
”I'll tell you my reasons for saying this, gentlemen,” says Ray, after a moment's hesitation. ”I'll tell you all I can about the business. Some time ago, shortly after Heath's last encounter with Burrill, I came into town one day to keep an appointment with him.”
”Stay! Can you recall the date?”
”It was on Monday, I believe, and early in the month.”
”Go on.”
”I met one of the Wardour servants, who gave me a note. It was a request that I wait upon Miss Wardour at once; she wished to consult me on some private matters. Miss Wardour and I, you must understand, are very old friends.”
”Yes, yes; go on.”