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Christopher Lisle! Bah! This was the man!
"No, no; I'm growing wild--I must be calm."
He caught a gla.s.s, and poured out some water from a table-filter, drank it hastily, and began to walk up and down the room for a time, till, feeling more himself, he took a seat to try and think the matter out, raising up every point strongly in Glyddyr's favour.
"No man could be such a wretch as to murder another, and then marry his child," he said at last firmly; but the accusation came more strongly, and with supporting evidence, as something began to whisper to him, "But what was the meaning of all that drinking--of that conduct on the wedding-day--of the abject dread of Gartram's picture, and of the delirious wanderings about being haunted?
"He is the man!" cried Trevithick at last, as he brought his fist down heavily into his left palm. "Gartram was murdered--accidentally, perhaps--but murdered, and--Great Heavens! what shall I--what ought I to do?"
He sat long, turning the matter over and over, viewing it from every point, and at last coldly and clearly it all seemed to stand out before him.
"No," he said, "I cannot keep silence. He is a curse to that poor girl.
Poor blind old Gartram favoured him, and the fiend played upon the poor girls filial duty. Yes, I know that well enough. Poor Claude would almost give her life to be free from the wretch who is dissipating her property to clear off debts to Gellow. And is he an accomplice?
"Accomplice in forcing on the marriage; but that wretch must have done the deed, and, Heaven helping me, I'll bring it home to him, and set the poor girl free.
"Stop. I'm going on too fast. It may be remorse and horror for the robbery. He could not have murdered Gartram. Poor fellow, he did indulge in chloral, and the doctor said it was an overdose. No, Gartram was too clever and experienced in his treatment of himself for that. I can't help it; something seems to impel me. I must go.
"And Claude!
"I can't help it. I feel so sure. Better the shock and be free, than be slowly tortured to death by a man who is little better than a devil.
"Yes," he cried finally, "I am sure, but I'll take other advice before I proceed very much further."
The consequence was that poor Mrs Sarson was horrified at not receiving her mortgage deed to hide away, and s.h.i.+vered as she credited the lawyer with going off to London to spend her savings of a life, for she could only obtain from his office the news that he was out on business.
As shown, Mrs Sarson was not the only one who had misjudged Trevithick, for, in his abstraction and earnest following of the quest upon which he was now engaged, there were no more meetings with Mary; and his avoidance of her when they met was for very special reasons of his own.
"I can save her from the scene," he had said, "though I cannot save poor Claude."
He was wrong, for he found her hurrying back with Sarah Woodham, and when he hurriedly tried to stay her, she turned upon him angrily, and refused to hear.
And so it was that Claude was seated alone in the library that day, sick at heart, as she thought of her future, and asking herself what she could do to win her husband's love and bring herself to love him, when one of the maids announced that a gentleman wanted to see master.
"Yes, Mr Glyddyr," said a quiet, firm voice, and the man, who had followed the servant, stepped in, signed to the girl to go, closed the door after her, and then turned to face Claude, who had risen and was standing trembling, as if from a suspicion of some terrible trouble to come.
The visitor took in her agitation directly.
"Sort of body who will try to screen him," he said to himself.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" said Claude, trying to be calm.
"Business, ma'am. Sorry to trouble you. Where's Mr Glyddyr?"
"Mr Glyddyr is out."
The man smiled pityingly.
"You will excuse me, ma'am--Mrs Glyddyr?"
"Yes; I'm Mrs Glyddyr."
"Servant did not say he was out. Too ill to go out. Where is he, please? You see I know."
"I told you Mr Glyddyr was out. What do you want?"
"Business, ma'am--important business. Must see him at once."
"You must call when he is at home."
"Sorry to be rude to a lady, but your face, ma'am, says he is at home, and will not show up."
"What do you want?"
The man looked sharply round, and his eyes rested on the ajar door of the safe, with its casing of books, its old purpose being now at an end.
"Way into another room," he said to himself; "he's there.--I want Mr Glyddyr," he continued firmly. "Now, look here, ma'am; I can feel for you, though I am a police officer, but I have my duty to do."
"Your duty?"
"Yes, ma'am, my duty; and Mr Glyddyr is in there; he may as well come out like a gentleman, and let it all be quietly done. He must know that the game is up, and that any attempt at getting away from me is worse than folly. Will you let me pa.s.s?"
"Stop!" cried Claude excitedly, as, like lightning, thought after thought flashed through her mind; for at that moment she heard a cough and a step that she recognised only too well. And this man--police--it must be to arrest.
"Tell me," she cried quickly, "what is it? Why have you come?"
"I'll tell Mr Glyddyr himself, ma'am, please. Stand aside. I don't want to be rude, but I've got my duty to do, and do it I will."
He pa.s.sed Claude sharply, brus.h.i.+ng against her arm, and seized the thick door to draw it open, while the thought flashed through her brain--
"I am his wife. I prayed for a way to win his love--to give him mine.
This man will arrest him, and I must save him if I can."
Without pausing to consider as to the folly of her impulse, she turned on the man as he threw open the door and bent forward, and, thrusting with all her might, she sent him staggering in.
The door closed upon him with a loud clang.
"He is my husband," panted Claude, mad with dread and excitement. "O Heaven help me! what has he done?"
At that moment, wild with jealous rage and doubt, Glyddyr came into the room, and ended, as she clung to him, speechless with emotion, by striking her savagely with such force as he possessed.
Claude uttered a low moan, and fell insensible across the entrance to the safe; while, after wrenching out the key, Glyddyr hurried panting from the library, closed and locked the door, and stood thinking.
"Yes," he said, with a malignant look; "I'll do that. Witnesses-- witnesses! They shall all know."
He crossed the hall to the drawing-room, and dragged at the bell so violently that, as he returned, the servants came hurrying through the swing-door.
"Here, quick, I want you," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "Ah, just in time," he cried, as at that moment the entrance door was darkened, and Mary Dillon entered, with Trevithick trying to detain her, and closely followed by Sarah Woodham. "Better and better," he said, with a grin. "This way-- this way, witnesses, please."