CHAPTERXXXI.MISGIVINGS.
Meantime,James Semple’s conscience had been making him very miserable. It was not the fraud that troubled him. He had long since made up his mind that to prevent his uncle’s unnatural intentions from being carried out was a very venial offence. Nor was it merely Alec’s incarceration. That, he thought, would be amply compensated by the quarter of a million which would fall to his share as one of the residuary legatees. Alec’s fortune, in fact, would be twice as large as his own; and it was only fair that he should take his share of the inconveniences which were inseparable from the securing of it.
But if his cousin should be convicted, and sentenced to a long term of penal servitude, Semple knew that he would feel very uncomfortable indeed. Yet, he argued, Alec would certainly have himself to thank if that was the result. If he had chosen to take Beattie’s hint, and declare that his uncle, before he died, had privately told him that he had changed his mind, and wished to leave the bulk of his money to his two nephews, all would have been well, and Dr. Mackenzie might have raged as much as he pleased, without being able to do any harm. It was Alec’s inability to explain the discrepancy between the will as it stood and his uncle’s known intentions which formed the real strength of the prosecution.
It would be very sad if Alec were convicted in consequence of his own obstinacy, but it would be still more sad, it would be a quite intolerable calamity, if anything should happento Mr. James Semple. And in spite of Beattie’s assurances, he felt far from secure. He was horrified to find that Alec was actually in prison before he had heard that criminal proceedings had been thought of. If the fraud were discovered, what would be his fate?
‘I say, Beattie,’ he said to his friend one day, ‘I almost think I’ll take a voyage to California, or somewhere, and stay there till this affair has been thoroughly forgotten. You could remit my share of the proceeds, couldn’t you?’
Beattie looked at him curiously.
‘I might. But I should be much more likely to remit a detective officer.’
‘What!’ cried the other with a white, scared face. ‘You don’t mean that you would turn traitor, do you?’
‘I mean that you would turn traitor if you bolted just now. Don’t you see that it wouldmake everybody believe that you had done something, and that you were afraid you would be found out? Besides, we need your evidence for your cousin’s trial.’
Semple muttered something to the effect that Alec’s trial could get on very well without him.
‘But you don’t think they can convict him?’ he said aloud.
‘Corker says he thinks he can get him off, and he’s the best criminal lawyer in the country,’ answered Beattie tranquilly. ‘But you mustn’t talk of a trip to America,’ he added, with a meaning look. ‘If you do, you will never see one penny of your uncle’s money. I’ll see to that.’
‘Oh; I was only joking, of course,’ said the other, as he took his leave.
Semple was still living at Claremont Gardens, and he made his way thither that day, after parting from his companion.
As he opened the door with his latch-key, Laura met him in the hall.
‘Oh, James,’ she whispered to him, ‘Margaret Lindsay has come up to town; and she is in the drawing-room now, with your aunt. She is waiting on purpose to see you.’
Semple muttered an oath between his teeth, as he very deliberately took off his overcoat; and Laura glided back to the drawing-room.
‘No, my dear,’ Miss Lindsay was saying when she entered; ‘nothing will ever make me believe such a thing o’ Alec. If your feyther has his doots, as ye seem to think, he has less gumption than I gied him credit for. Hoots! The thing’s perfeckly ridiculous!’ exclaimed the old lady, smoothing away imaginary crumbs from her lap as she spoke.
Margaret felt more cheered by this speechthan she had been since the blow had fallen; and at that moment Semple entered the room.
‘How do you do, Maggie?’ he said, going up to her in a hurried way, and shaking her by the hand. ‘I didn’t know you had come up. Almost a pity, I think; for this scrape, I mean this ridiculous accusation they have made against your brother, is a matter of no real moment. It is only a temporary—inconvenience, you know.’
The three women were listening to him in silence, and somehow his words sounded hollow and unreal, even to himself.
Margaret felt hurt that her wound should thus be openly probed and commented on, and she made no reply.
‘Then you think that Mr. Alec Lindsay is in no real—danger?’ asked Laura timidly.
Semple turned to her almost gratefully.
‘Not the least in the world,’ he saideagerly. ‘I have just seen B—— Mr.—a—the lawyer, you know, and he feels quite sure about it.’
‘Oh, I am so glad!’ exclaimed Laura.
Then there was a pause.
‘There is just one question I should like to ask you, James,’ said Margaret.
Semple’s heart sank within him.
‘When Alec read over the will, did he read the bequest “five thousand” or “fivehundredthousand” pounds?’
‘Five thousand,’ said Semple promptly.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Margaret, her large eyes steadily regarding him.
‘I’ll take my oath of it.’
‘But Alec says, I understand, that he either said, or meant to say, “fivehundredthousand.”’
‘There’s no doubt he read it as it stands—five thousand—and I heard him,’ persisted Semple. ‘But there seems to have been amistake of some sort. I don’t profess to understand it myself.’
‘Umph,’ said Miss Lindsay.
‘Let us hope for the best, dear Margaret—I may call you Margaret, as I did in the old days, mayn’t I?’ said Laura, when Margaret rose to go. ‘And you will let me help you to look for rooms, won’t you?’
But Margaret was in no mood to accept civilities. She thanked Laura rather coolly, and went away, declining her cousin’s offer to escort her to Highgate.
‘Have you been to see Alec, James?’ asked Miss Lindsay, when Margaret had gone.
Now this was what Semple had not been able to bring himself to do.
‘Not yet,’ he said sullenly. ‘He doesn’t want a lot of people bothering round him. At least, if I were in his place I wouldn’t.’
‘If you were in his place——’ repeated the old lady, as if she were not thinking of herwords, as she turned and slowly left the room.
Semple shuddered, and watched her curiously till the door closed behind her.
‘James,’ said Laura suddenly, ‘you remember one night, before my uncle died, you asked me to watch what he did with a paper that had come from the lawyers. What was in that paper? Had it anything to do with the will?’
‘What paper? Oh, I remember now. No; nothing in the world.’
Laura had purposely put her question in this shape.
‘James, you are not telling me the truth,’ she said, looking at him steadily. ‘You gave me to understand at the time that it had to do with it.’
‘You are quite mistaken,’ cried Semple, greatly alarmed.
It was the manner of his denial which theclever girl had wished to observe; and what she saw satisfied her that she had been right in her guess about the paper.
‘My uncle put it in his desk,’ she said slowly, ‘and I told you how to take the desk out of the room. Did you get the paper? What did you do with it? Did you burn it?’
‘No—no! What makes you imagine such things?’
‘I believe you did burn it. Come now!’ she said, laughing.
Semple laughed a little too, and looked furtively at his companion, as she sat looking into the fire. Laura turned round sharply, and caught his glance, smiled to herself, and gracefully changed the subject.
Seeing that the danger had gone by, Semple ventured to take her hand. Laura quietly withdrew it.
‘What’s the matter, Laura?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Why do you treat me like that?’
‘How else should I treat you?’
‘Aren’t we two engaged?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘But we are,’ cried Semple, catching her wrist.
‘Indeed you are mistaken,’ said the girl, throwing off his grasp. ‘You asked me, I know.’
‘And you accepted me.’
‘I have not made up my mind about it yet.’
‘Upon my word!’
His astonishment prevented his saying more. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, which stung him like a serpent.
‘Oh, I suppose that means that you have heard.’
‘Heard what?’
‘That Alec Lindsay is a residuary legateeas well as I.’ In a moment he saw that he had made a great mistake. She had not known it before. But he was too angry to think of what he said. ‘If the poor fellow escapes penal servitude, that is,’ said he, with a sneer.
Laura Meredith rose and drew a step nearer to the smiling, mocking face before her. She could gladly have struck it. Then she moved away again, while the smile died from Semple’s face; and without uttering another word, she walked out of the room.
Semple, in a rage, went off to his club, banging the door behind him; and Laura, as soon as she saw that the coast was clear, slipped back to the drawing-room fire (for, cat-like, she dearly loved a good blaze), and sat down to think.
‘So Alec, if he was not found guilty, was to be rich after all—as rich as his cousin! What a good thing it was that she had not committedherself definitely to Semple! But Alec—would he ever come back to her? She remembered only too well the look in his face when he met her outside Mr. Lindsay’s bedroom door with the will in her hand.
Yet, if he were the victim of a plot, and if she were to deliver him from the snare in which he had been taken, surely gratitude would make him turn to her then! And she would be a good wife to him; faithful, and true, and loving. How happy they might be! And the girl’s eyes softened as the idea crossed her mind.
He must be set free, and she must do it. He was innocent. She had never doubted that. (Curiously enough, this girl had judged Alec better than his own father had done.) How had he been involved? Had he really made a mistake? Or was there some conspiracy on foot?
Laura went the right way to work. Shedid not stop to consider the difficulties of the case, but went straight to motives. If there was a plot on foot, Semple was concerned in it. She felt sure of that.
Why had he been so anxious to get hold of that paper? She believed he had burned it.
Then, why had he wanted to see the will, when (as she afterwards learned) he had been in the room while it was read? Had he made any alteration in it? No. She felt certain there had been no time for anything of that kind. If he had even bent down to write in it, she must have seen him doing it. He had only stood at the window with it in his hand reading it. Besides, if he had altered the writing in any way, the alteration must have been noticed.
The girl’s subtle mind was at fault. She could see no clue to the plot which, she felt certain, existed.
Suddenly she remembered the conversation between Semple and a stranger, which she had partly overheard at the railway-station. ‘We are not out of the wood yet,’ the stranger had said; and ‘he must not be there when the will is read, on any account.’ Who must not be there? Not Alec, surely. Dr. Mackenzie? Why? Clearly, that he might not be able to say what Alec had read.
So much seemed clear; but still there was no explanation of the fact that Alec had failed to carry out his uncle’s instructions. Ponder over it as she might, the girl could not solve the mystery.
‘But suppose I were to write to Alec and tell him all this,’ she said to herself, ‘or tell some friend of his, Mr. Blake, for example, and get him to tell the lawyer; he might be able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. If they have made up some plot and allowed the blame to fall on Alec, what a shame!’ Andagain a pleased look came into her face as she remembered how Alec’s gratitude, if she were the means of establishing his innocence, would surely bring him once more to her side.
But—how could she have overlooked it? She could never tell this. She had made herself one of the conspirators. How could she confess that she had kept a watch on the old man, and told his nephew where his private papers were to be found? Could she tell openly that she had smuggled his will out of his room before it was signed, and had given it to Semple to read? She might find herself in the dock instead of Alec, accused of—she knew not what. Who would believe that she had done these things innocently, when she could give no good reason for doing them at all?
Was she going to risk standing her trial with Semple, and——? She shuddered, shook her head, and crept upstairs to her own room. She dared not tell.