Dangerous Ground Part 62

"Oh!"

"You look incredulous; very well. Still, I intend, from this moment, to take an active part in this mysterious complication which has woven itself about me."

"Have you forgotten Vernet?"

"Not at all; yet it is my duty to make active search for Leslie. Be the consequences to myself what they may, I can remain pa.s.sive no longer."

"Alan, you are talking nonsense. Do you suppose Vernet will let you slip now? Don't you realize that if you are to be found twenty-four hours from this moment, you will be under arrest."

"Nevertheless--"

"Nevertheless, you will persist in being a fool! Sit down there, young man, and tell me, haven't you been playing that _role_ long enough?"

A hot flush rises to Alan's brow, and an angry light leaps for a moment to his eyes; but he resumes his seat in silence, and turns an expectant gaze upon Mr. Follingsbee.

"Now, Warburton," resumes the little lawyer in a more kindly tone, "listen to reason. I had a long talk with our unknown friend to-day; not so long as I could have wished, but enough to convince me that he knows what he is about, and that if you follow his advice, he will pull you through. Twice he has saved you from the clutches of this Vernet; leave all to him, and he will rescue you again, and finally."

"He has, then, mapped out my course for me?" queries Alan haughtily.

"He has, if it suits you to put it so. Good heavens! man, it needed somebody to plan for you. _You_ have done nothing but blunder, blunder, blunder. And your stupid mistakes have recoiled upon others. I tell you, sir--" bringing his fist down upon the table with noisy emphasis--"that unless you accept the advice and a.s.sistance of this man, whom you seem to dislike without cause, you are lost, ruined, at least in your own estimation. Confound your Warburton pride! It has brought you into a pretty sc.r.a.pe; and all your Warburton wit won't extricate you from it.

Confound _you_! I'm sick of you, sir! If it were not for Leslie, and little Daisy, Van Vernet might have you, and the Warburton honor might go to the dogs, for all my interference!"

The mention of little Daisy had its effect upon Alan. As his companion waxed wrathful, his own mind became calmer; for a moment he seemed to see himself through Mr. Follingsbee's spectacles. And then he said:

"I accept your rebuke, for I may have deserved it; certainly I have sufficient reason to feel humble. My unknown champion took pains to inform me that he did not serve me for my own sake; and now you proffer me the same a.s.surance. I have blundered fearfully, but I fail to see what influence my conduct could have upon poor Daisy's fate."

"Oh, you do!" Mr. Follingsbee is not quite mollified. "Then you don't see that Leslie was sorely in need of a friend in whom she could confide--just such a friend as she might have found in you, had you been, or tried to be, a brother to her, instead of a suspicious, egotistical enemy. She could not take her troubles to Archibald, but she might have trusted you--she would have trusted you, had your conduct been what it should."

"I had not thought of that." Alan becomes more humble as his accuser continues to ply the lash. "What you say may be true. Be sure, sir, if we ever find Daisy and Leslie, I shall try to make amends."

"Umph! Then you had better begin now, by taking good advice when it is offered."

"What do you advise, then?"

"I? nothing, except at second hand. It is this champion of yours who advises."

"Then what is his advice?"

"He says that you must quit the country at once."

"Impossible!"

"Nothing of the sort. The _Clytie_ sails for Liverpool to-morrow. You and Leslie have taken pa.s.sage--"

"Taken pa.s.sage! Leslie!"

"Just so; everything has been arranged by--" He pauses, then says: "The 'Organ-grinder.'"

"I repeat, it is impossible. Do you think I will leave the country while little Daisy's fate remains--"

"Oh, stop! _stop!_ STOP! Man, are you determined to be an idiot? Will you hold your tongue and listen?"

"I will listen, yes; but--"

"But--bos.h.!.+ Listen, then, and don't interrupt."

He lowers his voice, not from fear of an eavesdropper but because, having gained this point, his impatience begins to subside. And Alan listens, while for more than an hour the little lawyer talks and gesticulates, smiles and frowns. He listens intently, with growing interest, until at last Mr. Follingsbee leans back in his chair, seeming to relax every muscle in so doing, and says:

"Well, what do you think of it?"

Then Alan Warburton rises and extends his hand impulsively.

"I thank you with all my heart, sir, and I will be guided by you, and by our unknown friend. From this moment, I am at your disposal."

"Umph!" grunts the lawyer, as he grasps the proffered hand, "I thought your senses would come back."

CHAPTER XLV.

A TRIP TO EUROPE.

While Alan Warburton, closeted with Mr. Follingsbee, was slowly lowering the crest of the Warburton pride, and reluctantly submitting himself to the mysterious guidance of an unseen hand,--Winnie French, sitting beside her mother, was perusing Leslie's note.

It was brief and pathetic, beseeching Mrs. French to go at once to Warburton Place; to dwell there as its mistress; to look upon it as her home, and Winnie's, until such time as Leslie should return, or Mr.

Follingsbee should indicate to her a change of plan. Would Mrs. French forgive this appearance of mystery, and believe and trust in her still?

Would she keep her home open for Alan, and a welcome ever ready for the lost Daisy, who must surely return some day? Everything could be arranged with Mr. Follingsbee; and Leslie's love and grat.i.tude would be always hers.

This note was somewhat incoherent, for it was the last written by Leslie, and her nerves had been taxed, perhaps, in the writing of the longer epistle to Mr. Follingsbee.

Brief and fragmentary as it was, it furnished to Winnie and her mother food for much wonderment, long discussion, and sincere sorrow.

"Oh, Mamma!" cried Winnie, choking back a sob, "some terrible trouble has come upon Leslie; and Alan Warburton is at the bottom of it!"

"My child!"

"I tell you he _is_!" vehemently. "And only yesterday Leslie would have told me all, but for him."

"Winnie, compose yourself; try and be calm," said Mrs. French soothingly.

"I _can't_ compose myself! I _won't_ be calm! I _want_ to be so angry when Alan Warburton returns for me, that I can fairly scorch him with my contempt! I want to _annihilate_ him!" And Winnie flung herself upon her mother's breast, and burst into a fit of hysterical sobbing.

Sorely puzzled, and very anxious, Mrs. French soothed her daughter with gentle, motherly words, and gradually drew from her an account of the events of the past two days, as they were known to Winnie.

"And so, between his interruption and your refusal to listen to him afterward, you are quite in the dark as to this strange misunderstanding between Leslie and Mr. Warburton?" said Mrs. French musingly.

"Misunderstanding! You give it a mild name, Mamma. Would a mere misunderstanding with any one, bring such a look to Leslie's face as I saw there when I left her alone with him? Would it leave her in a deathly faint at its close? Would it drive her from her home, secretly, like a fugitive? Would it cause Alan Warburton to address such words to me as those he uttered in his study? Because of a simple misunderstanding, would he implore me to judge between them? Mamma, there is more than a _misunderstanding_ at the bottom of all this mystery. Somewhere, there is a monstrous _wrong_!"