Part 31 (1/2)
The next morning when Cuthbert came Mary had her things on in readiness to go out with him, and after a short delay to admire and try on the ring, they set out together.
”I did not tell you yesterday, Mary,” Cuthbert said, after they had walked a short distance, ”that as soon as the arrangements for foreigners to leave the town are settled, I am going to Brussels with c.u.mming. He is going to make an affidavit, and this he cannot do here, as, if I should have occasion to use the doc.u.ment, it would be the means of enabling the police to trace him here and to demand his extradition.
After that I shall go on to England to make some inquiries that are essential. I will give you all particulars if you wish it, but I think it will be very much better that you shall know nothing about the matter; it may turn out to be nothing at all; it may on the other hand be extremely important. It is a painful business anyhow, but in any case I think it will be much the best that you should know nothing about it.
You can trust me, can you not?”
”Altogether,” she said, ”and certainly I would rather know nothing about it. But mind, Cuthbert, you must do what you think is right and best without any question about me. If you have been wronged you must right yourself, and I am sure that in doing so you will do it as gently and kindly as possible.”
”I will try to do so,” he said. ”At present, as I told you, the suspicions are very vague and rest entirely upon the statement c.u.mming has made. If those suspicions should be verified, a great wrong has been done and that wrong must be righted, but that can no doubt be arranged without publicity or scandal. The reason why I do not wish you to say a word about our engagement is, that were it known it would tie my hands terribly and render it so impossible for me to take any strong ground, that I should be altogether powerless.”
”Do entirely as you think best, Cuthbert. Of course, beyond the fact that perhaps something wrong may have been done, I have not an idea what it can be, and I do not want to know, unless it must be told me. How long are you likely to be away and do you think you are fit to travel?”
”There is no great fatigue in travelling,” he said. ”I can't say how long I shall be, not long I hope. You may be sure that I shall not be longer than I can possibly help.”
”I shall miss you dreadfully, but of course if you think it necessary, you must go. Besides,” she said, saucily, ”if you are in no hurry about me I know you will be anxious to get back to finish your pictures. No, Cuthbert, I really can't have that. There are people in sight.”
”I don't care if there are,” he laughed.
”I do, very much. Whoever heard of such a thing? What would they think of me?”
”I did not know that you cared what people thought of you, Mary.”
”Not about some things, perhaps, but there are limits, you know.”
A week later, duly provided with pa.s.ses, Cuthbert and c.u.mming made their way in a carriage to the Belgian frontier, and then went on by train to Brussels, where, on the day after their arrival, c.u.mming drew up and signed a statement with reference to the details of his transference of the shares to Mr. Hartington, and swore to its contents before a Belgian legal official.
”I shall stay here for a few days,” he said to Cuthbert, as the latter started the next morning for England. ”I am quite safe for the present, and after a long course of horse-flesh I really cannot tear myself away from decent living, until Paris is re-victualled, and one can live there in comfort again. I wish you every success in your search. The more I think of it the more convinced I am that we are not far wrong as to the manner in which Brander has got hold of your estate.”
Cuthbert, on arriving in London, took up his quarters at the Charing Cross Hotel. On the morning after his arrival he wrote a letter to Dr.
Edwardes, at Abchester.
”MY DEAR DOCTOR,--I have just returned from Paris, where I have been shut up for the last four months. I do not care about coming down to Abchester at present. I suppose I have not quite got over my soreness over matters in general, but for reasons which I need not enter into, I want to know if Brander's clerks, who were with him when I was last there, are still with him in his office, and, if not, where they are employed. I do not know anyone else to write to on the subject, and I am sure you will not mind taking the trouble in the matter for me.”
The answer came back by return of post.
”MY DEAR CUTHBERT--I was very glad to hear of you again. I have asked Brander from time to time about you, and he always says that he has not heard from you for months, and though your letter says nothing beyond the fact that you are alive, I was glad to get it. I hope next time you write you will give me full details about yourself, and that ere long you will make up your mind to come down. I need not say that we shall be delighted to put you up when you do come. I should imagine you would not care to go to Fairclose. Now as to your question. Harford, the elder of the two clerks, left the office here very shortly after you went away.
Levison, the younger, is still here. I put myself in the way of meeting him as he went to the office this morning. I stopped and chatted with him for a minute or two, and asked him carelessly how Mr. Harford was and whether he ever heard from him. He said he heard occasionally and that he was well. 'By the way, where is he working now?' I asked, 'I know he went up to a firm in town.' 'Oh, yes, he is with Barrington and Smiles, of Ess.e.x Street. He is getting on very well there, I believe. He is head of their conveyancing branch. I wish I could drop into as good a billet, Doctor. I should be very glad of a change.' So much for that business. Things are getting on pretty much the same up at the old place. Brander still comes up to his office for an hour or so every day. I don't think he cares much for the county gentleman's life. I fancy Mrs. B. is rather a disappointed woman. The fact is there was a good deal of feeling in the county as to Brander's connection with the bank. Almost everyone was let in more or less, you know, for the depositors have only got eight s.h.i.+llings in the pound so far, and I don't suppose they will ever get much more. There is an idea that Brander ought to have found out what was going on, and indeed that he must have known a good deal about it, and that at any rate what he did know should have been ample to have rendered it his duty to warn your father against taking shares so short a time before the smash. His purchase of Fairclose did not improve matters, and so far from their taking your father's place in the county, I may say without being absolutely cut they are much more out of it than they were before. However, when you come down I will give you all the local gossip.”
It was late in the afternoon when Cuthbert received the letter and he at once went to Ess.e.x Street. Several clerks were writing in the office. A lad came forward to ask him his business.
”I want to speak for a moment to Mr. Harford.”
The lad went up to one of the desks and the clerk came forward.
”I don't know whether you remember me,” Cuthbert said, ”my name is Hartington.”
”I remember you very well, Mr. Hartington, though you are changed a good deal.”
”I have had a sharp illness, but I am getting over it now. I particularly wished to speak to you about a matter in connection with my father's affairs. I am staying at the Charing Cross Hotel and should feel very much obliged if, when you leave here, you would come round for a few minutes.”
”With pleasure, sir, but I shall not get away till seven.”