Studies in Wives Part 5

"Did you not tell me this morning that you had never met Jarvice?"

The one onlooker, hatchet-faced Major Lane, suddenly leaned a little forward.

He was astonished at his old friend's extraordinary and uncalled-for courage, and it was with an effort, with the feeling that he was bracing himself to see something terrible take place, that he looked straight at the tall, fine-looking man who had now advanced into the circle of light thrown by the ma.s.sive Argand lamps.

But Theodore Carden appeared quite unmoved, nay more, quite unconcerned, by his father's question.

"Yes," he said, "I did tell you so. I suppose I knew the old fellow by sight, but I certainly was never introduced to him. Are there any new developments?"

He turned to Major Lane with a certain curiosity, and then quite composedly handed him the cup of tea he held in his right hand.

"Well, yes," answered the other coldly, "there are several new developments. We arrested Mrs. Jarvice this morning."

"That seems rather a strong step to have taken, unless new evidence has turned up since Sat.u.r.day," said Theodore thoughtfully.

"Such new evidence has come to hand since Sat.u.r.day," observed Major Lane drily.

There was a pause, and again Thomas Carden addressed his son with that strange touch of solemnity, and again Major Lane, with an inward wincing, stared fixedly at the young man now standing on the hearth-rug, a stalwart, _debonair_ figure, between himself and his old friend.

"Can you a.s.sure me--can you a.s.sure us both--that you never met Mrs.

Jarvice?"

Carden looked down at his father with a puzzled expression.

"Of course I can't a.s.sure you of anything of the kind," he said, still speaking quite placidly. "I may have met her somewhere or other, but I can't remember having done so; and I think I should have remembered it, both because the name is an uncommon one, and because"--he turned to Major Lane--"isn't she said to be an extraordinarily pretty woman?"

As the last words were being uttered an odd thing happened. Thomas Carden suddenly dropped the cup he was holding in his hand; it rang against the bra.s.s fender and broke in several pieces, while the spoon went clattering into the fireplace.

"Father!" exclaimed Theodore, and then quickly he added, "Don't trouble to do that," for the old man was stooping over the rug, and fumbling with the broken pieces. But Thomas Carden shook his head; it was evident that he was, for the moment, physically incapable of speech.

A great fear came into the son's mind; he turned to Major Lane, and muttered in an urgent, agonised whisper, "Is it--can it be a seizure?

Hadn't I better go and try to find Dr. Curle?"

But the other, with a dubious expression on his face, shook his head.

"No, no," he said; "it's nothing of the kind. Your father's getting older, Carden, as we all are, and I've had to speak to him to-day about a very disagreeable matter."

He looked fixedly, probingly, at the young man.

"I think it's thoroughly upset him." The speaker hesitated, and then added: "I daresay he'll tell you about it; in any case, I'd better go now and come back later. If you can spare me half an hour this evening, I should like to have a talk with you--about the same matter."

During the last few moments Major Lane had made up his mind to take a certain course, even to run a certain risk, and that not for the first time that day, for he had already set his own intimate knowledge of Thomas Carden, the lifelong friend whose condition now wrung him with pity, against what was, perhaps, his official duty.

Some two hours before, the Head Constable had entered the house where he had been so constantly and so hospitably entertained, with the firm conviction that Theodore Carden had been the catspaw of a clever, unscrupulous woman; in fact that there had come a repet.i.tion, but a hundred times more serious, of that now half-forgotten entanglement which had so nearly brought Carden to grief some seven or eight years before. Once more he had come prepared to do his best to save his friend's son, so far as might be possible, from the consequences of his folly.

But now? Ah, now, the experienced, alert official had to admit to himself that the incidents of the last ten minutes had completely altered his view of the matter. He realised that in any case Theodore Carden was no fool; for the first time that day the terrible suspicion came into Major Lane's mind that the man before him might, after all, be more closely connected with the Jarvice mystery than had seemed possible.

Never, during his long connection with crime, had the Head Constable come across as good an actor, as cool a liar, as he now believed this man of business to be.

Well, he would give Theodore Carden one more chance to tell the truth; Theodore was devoted to his father, so much was certainly true, and perhaps his father would be able to make him understand the gravity of the case. Major Lane felt bitterly sorry that he had come first to the old man--but then, he had so completely believed in the "sc.r.a.pe"

theory; and now he hardly knew what to believe!

For the moment, at any rate, so the Head Constable told himself, the mask had fallen; Theodore Carden could not conceal his relief at the other's approaching departure.

"Certainly," he said hastily, "come in this evening by all means; I won't ask you to stay to dinner, for I mean to try and make father go to bed, but later I shall be quite free. If, however, you want to ask me anything about the Jarvice affair, I'm afraid I can't help you much; I've not even read the case with any care."

The old man, still sitting by the fire, had caught a few of the muttered words, and before Major Lane could leave the room Thomas Carden had risen from his chair, his face paler, perhaps, than usual, but once more his collected, dignified self.

"Stay," he said firmly; "having gone so far, I think we should now thresh the matter out."

He walked over to where his son and his friend were standing, and he put his hand on the older man's arm.

"Perhaps I cannot expect you, Lane, to be convinced, as I, of course, have been convinced, by my son's denials. It is, as I told you this afternoon, either a plot on the part of someone who bears a grudge against us, or else--what I think more likely--there are two men in this great town each bearing the name of Theodore Carden. But I appreciate, I deeply appreciate, the generous kindness which made you come and warn us of this impending calamity; but you need not fear that we shall fail to meet it with a complete answer."

"Father! Major Lane! What does this mean?"

For the first time a feeling of misgiving, of sudden fear, swept over Theodore Carden's mind. Without waiting for an answer, he led the way back to the fireplace, and, deliberately drawing forward a chair, motioned to Major Lane to sit down likewise.

"Now then," he said, speaking with considerable authority and decision, "I think I have a right to ask what this is all about! In what way are we, my father and myself, concerned in the Jarvice affair? For my part, Major Lane, I can a.s.sure you, and that, if you wish it, on oath, that I did not know Mr. Jarvice, and, to the best of my belief, I have never seen, still less spoken to, Mrs. Jarvice----"

"If that be indeed so," said the man whom he addressed, and who, for the first time, was beginning to feel himself shaken in his belief, nay, in his absolute knowledge, that the young man was perjuring himself, "can you, and will you, explain these letters?" and he drew out of his pocket a folded sheet of foolscap.

Carden bent forward eagerly; there was no doubt, so the Head Constable admitted to himself, as to his eagerness to be brought face to face with the accusation--and yet, at that moment, a strong misgiving came over Major Lane.

Even if Theodore Carden could continue to be the consummate actor he had already proved himself, was it right, was it humane, to subject him to this terrible test, and that, too, before his old father? Whatever the young man's past relation to Mrs. Jarvice, nay, whatever his connection might be with the crime which Major Lane now knew to have been committed, Carden was certainly ignorant of the existence of these terrible, these d.a.m.natory doc.u.ments, and they const.i.tuted so far the only proof that Carden had been lying when he denied any knowledge of Mrs. Jarvice. But then, alas! they const.i.tuted an irrefutable proof.

With a sudden movement Major Lane withdrew his right hand, that which held the piece of paper.

"Stop a moment, Theodore; do you really wish this discussion to take place before your father? I wonder if you remember"--he paused, and then went on firmly, "an interview you and I had many years ago?"

For the first time the younger man's whole manner changed; a look of fear, of guilt, came over his strong, intelligent face.

"Father," he said imploringly, "I beg you not to listen to Major Lane.

He is alluding to a matter which he gave me his word--his word of honour--should never be mentioned to anyone, least of all to you;" then, turning with an angry gesture to the Head Constable, "Was that not so?"

he asked imperiously.

"Yes, I admit that by asking you this question I have broken my word, but good G.o.d! man, this is no pa.s.sing sc.r.a.pe that we have to consider now; to-morrow morning all Birmingham will be ringing with your name--with your father's name, Theodore--for by some horrible mischance the papers have got hold of the letters in question. I did my best, but I found I was powerless."

He turned and deliberately looked away, as he added in a low, hesitating voice: "And now, once more I ask you whether we had not better delay this painful discussion until you and I are alone?"

"No!" cried Carden, now thoroughly roused, "certainly not! You have chosen to come and tell my father something about me, and I insist that you tell me here, and at once, what it is of which I am accused."

He instinctively looked at his father for support, and received it in full measure, for at once the old man spoke.

"Yes, Lane, I think my son is right; there's no use in making any more mystery about the matter. I'm sure that the letters you have brought to show Theodore will puzzle him as much as they have me, and that he will be able to a.s.sure you that he has no clue either to their contents or to their writer."

Very slowly, with a feeling of genuine grief and shame for the man who seemed incapable of either sorrow or shame, Major Lane held out the folded paper; and then in very pity he looked away as his old friend's son eagerly unrolled the piece of foolscap, placing it close under the lamp-shade in order that he might thoroughly master its contents.

As Theodore Carden completed the trifling action, that of unrolling the piece of paper which was to solve the mystery, he noted, with a curious feeling of relief, that the doc.u.ments (or were they letters?) regarded by the Head Constable as so d.a.m.natory, were but two, the first of some length, the second consisting of a very few lines, and both copied in the fair round hand of Major Lane's confidential clerk.