ofa
large
trunk
,
and
kneeling
down
before
it
with
a
lighted
candle
in
his
hand
,
carefully
examined
the
lock
.
To
all
appearance
it
was
exactly
in
the
same
condition
in
which
George
had
left
it
,
when
he
laid
his
mourning
garments
aside
and
placed
them
in
this
shabby
repository
with
all
other
memorials
of
his
dead
wife
.
Robert
brushed
his
coat
sleeve
across
the
worn
,
leather-covered
lid
,
upon
which
the
initials
G
.
T
.
were
inscribed
with
big
brass-headed
nails
;
but
Mrs.
Maloney
,
the
laundress
,
must
have
been
the
most
precise
of
housewives
,
for
neither
the
portmanteau
nor
the
trunk
were
dusty
.
Mr.
Audley
dispatched
a
boy
to
fetch
his
Irish
attendant
,
and
paced
up
and
down
his
sitting-room
waiting
anxiously
for
her
arrival
.
She
came
in
about
ten
minutes
,
and
,
after
expressing
her
delight
in
the
return
of
"
the
master
,
"
humbly
awaited
his
orders
.
"
I
only
sent
for
you
to
ask
if
anybody
has
been
here
;
that
is
to
say
,
if
anybody
has
applied
to
you
for
the
key
of
my
rooms
to-day
—
any
lady
?
"
"
Lady
?
No
,
indeed
,
yer
honor
;
there
's
been
no
lady
for
the
kay
;
barrin
'
it
's
the
blacksmith
.
"
"
The
blacksmith
!
"
"
Yes
;
the
blacksmith
your
honor
ordered
to
come
to-day
.
"
"
I
order
a
blacksmith
!
"
exclaimed
Robert
.
"
I
left
a
bottle
of
French
brandy
in
the
cupboard
,
"
he
thought
,
"
and
Mrs.
M
.
has
been
evidently
enjoying
herself
.
"
"
Sure
,
and
the
blacksmith
your
honor
tould
to
see
to
the
locks
,
"
replied
Mrs.
Maloney
.
"
It
's
him
that
lives
down
in
one
of
the
little
streets
by
the
bridge
,
"
she
added
,
giving
a
very
lucid
description
of
the
man
's
whereabouts
.
Robert
lifted
his
eyebrows
in
mute
despair
.
"
If
you
'll
sit
down
and
compose
yourself
,
Mrs.
M
.
,
"
he
said
—
he
abbreviated
her
name
thus
on
principle
,
for
the
avoidance
of
unnecessary
labor
—
"
perhaps
we
shall
be
able
by
and
by
to
understand
each
other
.
You
say
a
blacksmith
has
been
here
?
"
"
Sure
and
I
did
,
sir
.
"
"
To-day
?
"
"
Quite
correct
,
sir
.
"
Step
by
step
Mr.
Audley
elicited
the
following
information
.
A
locksmith
had
called
upon
Mrs.
Maloney
that
afternoon
at
three
o'clock
,
and
had
asked
for
the
key
of
Mr.
Audley
's
chambers
,
in
order
that
he
might
look
to
the
locks
of
the
doors
,
which
he
stated
were
all
out
of
repair
.
He
declared
that
he
was
acting
upon
Mr.
Audley
's
own
orders
,
conveyed
to
him
by
a
letter
from
the
country
,
where
the
gentleman
was
spending
his
Christmas
.
Mrs.
Maloney
,
believing
in
the
truth
of
this
statement
,
had
admitted
the
man
to
the
chambers
,
where
he
stayed
about
half
an
hour
.
"
But
you
were
with
him
while
he
examined
the
locks
,
I
suppose
?
"
Mr.
Audley
asked
.
"
Sure
I
was
,
sir
,
in
and
out
,
as
you
may
say
,
all
the
time
,
for
I
've
been
cleaning
the
stairs
this
afternoon
,
and
I
took
the
opportunity
to
begin
my
scouring
while
the
man
was
at
work
.
"
"
Oh
,
you
were
in
and
out
all
the
time
.
If
you
could
conveniently
give
me
a
plain
answer
,
Mrs.
M
.
,
I
should
be
glad
to
know
what
was
the
longest
time
that
you
were
out
while
the
locksmith
was
in
my
chambers
?
"
But
Mrs.
Maloney
could
not
give
a
plain
answer
.
It
might
have
been
ten
minutes
;
though
she
did
n't
think
it
was
as
much
.
It
might
have
been
a
quarter
of
an
hour
;
but
she
was
sure
it
was
n't
more
.
It
did
n't
seem
to
her
more
than
five
minutes
,
but
"
thim
stairs
,
your
honor
;
"
and
here
she
rambled
off
into
a
disquisition
upon
the
scouring
of
stairs
in
general
,
and
the
stairs
outside
Robert
's
chambers
in
particular
.
Mr.
Audley
sighed
the
weary
sigh
of
mournful
resignation
.
"
Never
mind
,
Mrs.
M
.
,
"
he
said
;
"
the
locksmith
had
plenty
of
time
to
do
anything
he
wanted
to
do
,
I
dare
say
,
without
your
being
any
the
wiser
.
"
Mrs.
Maloney
stared
at
her
employer
with
mingled
surprise
and
alarm
.
"
Sure
,
there
was
n't
anything
for
him
to
stale
,
your
honor
,
barrin
'
the
birds
and
the
geran'ums
,
and
—
"
"
No
,
no
,
I
understand
.
There
,
that
'll
do
,
Mrs.
M
.
Tell
me
where
the
man
lives
,
and
I
'll
go
and
see
him
.
"
"
But
you
'll
have
a
bit
of
dinner
first
,
sir
?
"
"
I
'll
go
and
see
the
locksmith
before
I
have
my
dinner
.
"
He
took
up
his
hat
as
he
announced
his
determination
,
and
walked
toward
the
door
.
"
The
man
's
address
,
Mrs.
M
?
"
The
Irishwoman
directed
him
to
a
small
street
at
the
back
of
St.
Bride
's
Church
,
and
thither
Mr.
Robert
Audley
quietly
strolled
,
through
the
miry
slush
which
simple
Londoners
call
snow
.
He
found
the
locksmith
,
and
,
at
the
sacrifice
of
the
crown
of
his
hat
,
contrived
to
enter
the
low
,
narrow
doorway
of
a
little
open
shop
.
A
jet
of
gas
was
flaring
in
the
unglazed
window
,
and
there
was
a
very
merry
party
in
the
little
room
behind
the
shop
;
but
no
one
responded
to
Robert
's
"
Hulloa
!
"
The
reason
of
this
was
sufficiently
obvious
.
The
merry
party
was
so
much
absorbed
in
its
own
merriment
as
to
be
deaf
to
all
commonplace
summonses
from
the
outer
world
;
and
it
was
only
when
Robert
,
advancing
further
into
the
cavernous
little
shop
,
made
so
bold
as
to
open
the
half-glass
door
which
separated
him
from
the
merry-makers
,
that
he
succeeded
in
obtaining
their
attention
.
A
very
jovial
picture
of
the
Teniers
school
was
presented
to
Mr.
Robert
Audley
upon
the
opening
of
this
door
.
The
locksmith
,
with
his
wife
and
family
,
and
two
or
three
droppers-in
of
the
female
sex
,
were
clustered
about
a
table
,
which
was
adorned
by
two
bottles
;
not
vulgar
bottles
of
that
colorless
extract
of
the
juniper
berry
,
much
affected
by
the
masses
;
but
of
bona
fide
port
and
sherry
—
fiercely
strong
sherry
,
which
left
a
fiery
taste
in
the
mouth
,
nut-brown
sherry
—
rather
unnaturally
brown
,
if
anything
—
and
fine
old
port
;
no
sickly
vintage
,
faded
and
thin
from
excessive
age
:
but
a
rich
,
full-bodied
wine
,
sweet
and
substantial
and
high
colored
.
The
locksmith
was
speaking
as
Robert
Audley
opened
the
door
.
"
And
with
that
,
"
he
said
,
"
she
walked
off
,
as
graceful
as
you
please
.
"
The
whole
party
was
thrown
into
confusion
by
the
appearance
of
Mr.
Audley
,
but
it
was
to
be
observed
that
the
locksmith
was
more
embarrassed
than
his
companions
.
He
set
down
his
glass
so
hurriedly
,
that
he
spilt
his
wine
,
and
wiped
his
mouth
nervously
with
the
back
of
his
dirty
hand
.
"
You
called
at
my
chambers
to-day
,
"
Robert
said
,
quietly
.
"
Do
n't
let
me
disturb
you
,
ladies
.
"
This
to
the
droppers-in
.
"
You
called
at
my
chambers
to-day
,
Mr.
White
,
and
—
"
The
man
interrupted
him
.
"
I
hope
,
sir
,
you
will
be
so
good
as
to
look
over
the
mistake
,
"
he
stammered
.
"
I
'm
sure
,
sir
,
I
'm
very
sorry
it
should
have
occurred
.
I
was
sent
for
to
another
gentleman
's
chambers
,
Mr.
Aulwin
,
in
Garden
Court
;
and
the
name
slipped
my
memory
;
and
havin
'
done
odd
jobs
before
for
you
,
I
thought
it
must
be
you
as
wanted
me
to-day
;
and
I
called
at
Mrs.
Maloney
's
for
the
key
accordin
'
;
but
directly
I
see
the
locks
in
your
chambers
,
I
says
to
myself
,
the
gentleman
's
locks
ai
n't
out
of
order
;
the
gentleman
do
n't
want
all
his
locks
repaired
.
"
"
But
you
stayed
half
an
hour
.
"
"
Yes
,
sir
;
for
there
was
one
lock
out
of
order
—
the
door
nighest
the
staircase
—
and
I
took
it
off
and
cleaned
it
and
put
it
on
again
.
I
wo
n't
charge
you
nothin
'
for
the
job
,
and
I
hope
as
you
'll
be
as
good
as
to
look
over
the
mistake
as
has
occurred
,
which
I
've
been
in
business
thirteen
years
come
July
,
and
—
"
"
Nothing
of
this
kind
ever
happened
before
,
I
suppose
,
"
said
Robert
,
gravely
.
"
No
,
it
's
altogether
a
singular
kind
of
business
,
not
likely
to
come
about
every
day
.
You
've
been
enjoying
yourself
this
evening
I
see
,
Mr.
White
.
You
've
done
a
good
stroke
of
work
to-day
,
I
'll
wager
—
made
a
lucky
hit
,
and
you
're
what
you
call
'
standing
treat
,
'
eh
?
"
Robert
Audley
looked
straight
into
the
man
's
dingy
face
as
he
spoke
.
The
locksmith
was
not
a
bad-looking
fellow
,
and
there
was
nothing
that
he
need
have
been
ashamed
of
in
his
face
,
except
the
dirt
,
and
that
,
as
Hamlet
's
mother
says
,
"
is
common
;
"
but
in
spite
of
this
,
Mr.
White
's
eyelids
dropped
under
the
young
barrister
's
calm
scrutiny
,
and
he
stammered
out
some
apologetic
sort
of
speech
about
his
"
missus
,
"
and
his
missus
'
neighbors
,
and
port
wine
and
sherry
wine
,
with
as
much
confusion
as
if
he
,
an
honest
mechanic
in
a
free
country
,
were
called
upon
to
excuse
himself
to
Robert
Audley
for
being
caught
in
the
act
of
enjoying
himself
in
his
own
parlor
.
Robert
cut
him
short
with
a
careless
nod
.
"
Pray
do
n't
apologize
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
like
to
see
people
enjoy
themselves
.
Good-night
,
Mr.
White
good-night
,
ladies
.
"
He
lifted
his
hat
to
"
the
missus
,
"
and
the
missus
'
neighbors
,
who
were
much
fascinated
by
his
easy
manner
and
his
handsome
face
,
and
left
the
shop
.
"
And
so
,
"
he
muttered
to
himself
as
he
went
back
to
his
chambers
,
"
'
with
that
she
walked
off
as
graceful
as
you
please.'Who
was
it
that
walked
off
;
and
what
was
the
story
which
the
locksmith
was
telling
when
I
interrupted
him
at
that
sentence
?
Oh
,
George
Talboys
,
George
Talboys
,
am
I
ever
to
come
any
nearer
to
the
secret
of
your
fate
?
Am
I
coming
nearer
to
it
now
,
slowly
but
surely
?
Is
the
radius
to
grow
narrower
day
by
day
until
it
draws
a
dark
circle
around
the
home
of
those
I
love
?
How
is
it
all
to
end
?
"
He
sighed
wearily
as
he
walked
slowly
back
across
the
flagged
quadrangles
in
the
Temple
to
his
own
solitary
chambers
.
Mrs.
Maloney
had
prepared
for
him
that
bachelor
's
dinner
,
which
,
however
excellent
and
nutritious
in
itself
,
has
no
claim
to
the
special
charm
of
novelty
.
She
had
cooked
for
him
a
mutton-chop
,
which
was
soddening
itself
between
two
plates
upon
the
little
table
near
the
fire
.
Robert
Audley
sighed
as
he
sat
down
to
the
familiar
meal
,
remembering
his
uncle
's
cook
with
a
fond
,
regretful
sorrow
.
"
Her
cutlets
a
la
Maintenon
made
mutton
seem
more
than
mutton
;
a
sublimated
meat
that
could
scarcely
have
grown
upon
any
mundane
sheep
,
"
he
murmured
sentimentally
,
"
and
Mrs.
Maloney
's
chops
are
apt
to
be
tough
;
but
such
is
life
—
what
does
it
matter
?
"
He
pushed
away
his
plate
impatiently
after
eating
a
few
mouthfuls
.
"
I
have
never
eaten
a
good
dinner
at
this
table
since
I
lost
George
Talboys
,
"
he
said
.
"
The
place
seems
as
gloomy
as
if
the
poor
fellow
had
died
in
the
next
room
,
and
had
never
been
taken
away
to
be
buried
.
How
long
ago
that
September
afternoon
appears
as
I
look
back
at
it
—
that
September
afternoon
upon
which
I
parted
with
him
alive
and
well
;
and
lost
him
as
suddenly
and
unaccountably
as
if
a
trap-door
had
opened
in
the
solid
earth
and
let
him
through
to
the
antipodes
!
"
The
writing
in
the
book
Mr.
Audley
rose
from
the
dinner-table
and
walked
over
to
the
cabinet
in
which
he
kept
the
document
he
had
drawn
up
relating
to
George
Talboys
.
He
unlocked
the
doors
of
his
cabinet
,
took
the
paper
from
the
pigeon-hole
marked
important
,
and
seated
himself
at
his
desk
to
write
.
He
added
several
paragraphs
to
those
in
the
document
,
numbering
the
fresh
paragraphs
as
carefully
as
he
had
numbered
the
old
ones
.
"
Heaven
help
us
all
,
"
he
muttered
once
;
"
is
this
paper
with
which
no
attorney
has
had
any
hand
to
be
my
first
brief
?
"
He
wrote
for
about
half
an
hour
,
then
replaced
the
document
in
the
pigeon-hole
,
and
locked
the
cabinet
.
When
he
had
done
this
,
he
took
a
candle
in
his
hand
,
and
went
into
the
room
in
which
were
his
own
portmanteaus
and
the
trunk
belonging
to
George
Talboys
.
He
took
a
bunch
of
keys
from
his
pocket
,
and
tried
them
one
by
one
.
The
lock
of
the
shabby
old
trunk
was
a
common
one
,
and
at
the
fifth
trial
the
key
turned
easily
.
"
There
'd
be
no
need
for
any
one
to
break
open
such
a
lock
as
this
,
"
muttered
Robert
,
as
he
lifted
the
lid
of
the
trunk
.
He
slowly
emptied
it
of
its
contents
,
taking
out
each
article
separately
,
and
laying
it
carefully
upon
a
chair
by
his
side
.
He
handled
the
things
with
a
respectful
tenderness
,
as
if
he
had
been
lifting
the
dead
body
of
his
lost
friend
.
One
by
one
he
laid
the
neatly
folded
mourning
garments
on
the
chair
.
He
found
old
meerschaum
pipes
,
and
soiled
,
crumpled
gloves
that
had
once
been
fresh
from
the
Parisian
maker
;
old
play-bills
,
whose
biggest
letters
spelled
the
names
of
actors
who
were
dead
and
gone
;
old
perfume-bottles
,
fragrant
with
essences
,
whose
fashion
had
passed
away
;
neat
little
parcels
of
letters
,
each
carefully
labeled
with
the
name
of
the
writer
;
fragments
of
old
newspapers
;
and
a
little
heap
of
shabby
,
dilapidated
books
,
each
of
which
tumbled
into
as
many
pieces
as
a
pack
of
cards
in
Robert
's
incautious
hand
.
But
among
all
the
mass
of
worthless
litter
,
each
scrap
of
which
had
once
had
its
separate
purpose
,
Robert
Audley
looked
in
vain
for
that
which
he
sought
—
the
packet
of
letters
written
to
the
missing
man
by
his
dead
wife
Helen
Talboys
.
He
had
heard
George
allude
more
than
once
to
the
existence
of
these
letters
.
He
had
seen
him
once
sorting
the
faded
papers
with
a
reverent
hand
;
and
he
had
seen
him
replace
them
,
carefully
tied
together
with
a
faded
ribbon
which
had
once
been
Helen
's
,
among
the
mourning
garments
in
the
trunk
.
Whether
he
had
afterward
removed
them
,
or
whether
they
had
been
removed
since
his
disappearance
by
some
other
hand
,
it
was
not
easy
to
say
;
but
they
were
gone
.
Robert
Audley
sighed
wearily
as
he
replaced
the
things
in
the
empty
box
,
one
by
one
,
as
he
had
taken
them
out
.
He
stopped
with
the
little
heap
of
tattered
books
in
his
hand
,
and
hesitated
for
a
moment
.
"
I
will
keep
these
out
,
"
he
muttered
,
"
there
may
be
something
to
help
me
in
one
of
them
.
"
George
's
library
was
no
very
brilliant
collection
of
literature
.
There
was
an
old
Greek
Testament
and
the
Eton
Latin
Grammar
;
a
French
pamphlet
on
the
cavalry
sword-exercise
;
an
odd
volume
of
Tom
Jones
with
one
half
of
its
stiff
leather
cover
hanging
to
it
by
a
thread
;
Byron
's
Don
Juan
,
printed
in
a
murderous
type
,
which
must
have
been
invented
for
the
special
advantage
of
oculists
and
opticians
;
and
a
fat
book
in
a
faded
gilt
and
crimson
cover
.
Robert
Audley
locked
the
trunk
and
took
the
books
under
his
arm
.
Mrs.
Maloney
was
clearing
away
the
remains
of
his
repast
when
he
returned
to
the
sitting-room
.
He
put
the
books
aside
on
a
little
table
in
a
corner
of
the
fire-place
,
and
waited
patiently
while
the
laundress
finished
her
work
.
He
was
in
no
humor
even
for
his
meerschaum
consoler
;
the
yellow-papered
fictions
on
the
shelves
above
his
head
seemed
stale
and
profitless
—
he
opened
a
volume
of
Balzac
,
but
his
uncle
's
wife
's
golden
curls
danced
and
trembled
in
a
glittering
haze
,
alike
upon
the
metaphysical
diablerie
of
the
Peau
de
Chagrin
,
and
the
hideous
social
horrors
of
"
Cousine
Bette
.
"
The
volume
dropped
from
his
hand
,
and
he
sat
wearily
watching
Mrs.
Maloney
as
she
swept
up
the
ashes
on
the
hearth
,
replenished
the
fire
,
drew
the
dark
damask
curtains
,
supplied
the
simple
wants
of
the
canaries
,
and
put
on
her
bonnet
in
the
disused
clerk
's
office
,
prior
to
bidding
her
employer
good-night
.
As
the
door
closed
upon
the
Irishwoman
,
he
arose
impatiently
from
his
chair
,
and
paced
up
and
down
the
room
.
"
Why
do
I
go
on
with
this
,
"
he
said
,
"
when
I
know
that
it
is
leading
me
,
step
by
step
,
day
by
day
,
hour
by
hour
,
nearer
to
that
conclusion
which
,
of
all
others
,
I
should
avoid
?
Am
I
tied
to
a
wheel
,
and
must
I
go
with
its
every
revolution
,
let
it
take
me
where
it
will
?
Or
can
I
sit
down
here
to-night
and
say
I
have
done
my
duty
to
my
missing
friend
,
I
have
searched
for
him
patiently
,
but
I
have
searched
in
vain
?
Should
I
be
justified
in
doing
this
?
Should
I
be
justified
in
letting
the
chain
which
I
have
slowly
put
together
,
link
by
link
,
drop
at
this
point
,
or
must
I
go
on
adding
fresh
links
to
that
fatal
chain
until
the
last
rivet
drops
into
its
place
and
the
circle
is
complete
?
I
think
,
and
I
believe
,
that
I
shall
never
see
my
friend
's
face
again
;
and
that
no
exertion
of
mine
can
ever
be
of
any
benefit
to
him
.
In
plainer
,
crueler
words
I
believe
him
to
be
dead
.
Am
I
bound
to
discover
how
and
where
he
died
?
or
being
,
as
I
think
,
on
the
road
to
that
discovery
,
shall
I
do
a
wrong
to
the
memory
of
George
Talboys
by
turning
back
or
stopping
still
?
What
am
I
to
do
?
—
what
am
I
to
do
?
"
He
rested
his
elbows
on
his
knees
,
and
buried
his
face
in
his
hands
.
The
one
purpose
which
had
slowly
grown
up
in
his
careless
nature
until
it
had
become
powerful
enough
to
work
a
change
in
that
very
nature
,
made
him
what
he
had
never
been
before
—
a
Christian
;
conscious
of
his
own
weakness
;
anxious
to
keep
to
the
strict
line
of
duty
;
fearful
to
swerve
from
the
conscientious
discharge
of
the
strange
task
that
had
been
forced
upon
him
;
and
reliant
on
a
stronger
hand
than
his
own
to
point
the
way
which
he
was
to
go
.
Perhaps
he
uttered
his
first
earnest
prayer
that
night
,
seated
by
his
lonely
fireside
,
thinking
of
George
Talboys
.
When
he
raised
his
head
from
that
long
and
silent
revery
,
his
eyes
had
a
bright
,
determined
glance
,
and
every
feature
in
his
face
seemed
to
wear
a
new
expression
.
"
Justice
to
the
dead
first
,
"
he
said
;
"
mercy
to
the
living
afterward
.
"
He
wheeled
his
easy-chair
to
the
table
,
trimmed
the
lamp
,
and
settled
himself
to
the
examination
of
the
books
.
He
took
them
up
,
one
by
one
,
and
looked
carefully
through
them
,
first
looking
at
the
page
on
which
the
name
of
the
owner
is
ordinarily
written
,
and
then
searching
for
any
scrap
of
paper
which
might
have
been
left
within
the
leaves
.
On
the
first
page
of
the
Eton
Latin
Grammar
the
name
of
Master
Talboys
was
written
in
a
prim
,
scholastic
hand
;
the
French
pamphlet
had
a
careless
G.T.
scrawled
on
the
cover
in
pencil
,
in
George
's
big
,
slovenly
calligraphy
:
the
Tom
Jones
had
evidently
been
bought
at
a
book-stall
,
and
bore
an
inscription
,
dated
March
14th
,
1788
,
setting
forth
that
the
book
was
a
tribute
of
respect
to
Mr.
Thos
.
Scrowton
,
from
his
obedient
servant
,
James
Anderley
;
the
Don
Juan
and
the
Testament
were
blank
.
Robert
Audley
breathed
more
freely
;
he
had
arrived
at
the
last
but
one
of
the
books
without
any
result
whatever
,
and
there
only
remained
the
fat
gilt-and-crimson-bound
volume
to
be
examined
before
his
task
was
finished
.
It
was
an
annual
of
the
year
1845.
The
copper-plate
engravings
of
lovely
ladies
,
who
had
flourished
in
that
day
,
were
yellow
and
spotted
with
mildew
;
the
costumes
grotesque
and
outlandish
;
the
simpering
beauties
faded
and
commonplace
.
Even
the
little
clusters
of
verses
(
in
which
the
poet
's
feeble
candle
shed
its
sickly
light
upon
the
obscurities
of
the
artist
's
meaning
)
had
an
old-fashioned
twang
;
like
music
on
a
lyre
,
whose
strings
are
slackened
by
the
damps
of
time
.
Robert
Audley
did
not
stop
to
read
any
of
the
mild
productions
.
He
ran
rapidly
through
the
leaves
,
looking
for
any
scrap
of
writing
or
fragment
of
a
letter
which
might
have
been
used
to
mark
a
place
.
He
found
nothing
but
a
bright
ring
of
golden
hair
,
of
that
glittering
hue
which
is
so
rarely
seen
except
upon
the
head
of
a
child
—
a
sunny
lock
,
which
curled
as
naturally
as
the
tendril
of
a
vine
;
and
was
very
opposite
in
texture
,
if
not
different
in
hue
,
to
the
soft
,
smooth
tresses
which
the
landlady
at
Ventnor
had
given
to
George
Talboys
after
his
wife
's
death
.
Robert
Audley
suspended
his
examination
of
the
book
,
and
folded
this
yellow
lock
in
a
sheet
of
letter
paper
,
which
he
sealed
with
his
signet-ring
,
and
laid
aside
,
with
the
memorandum
about
George
Talboys
and
Alicia
's
letter
,
in
the
pigeon-hole
marked
important
.
He
was
going
to
replace
the
fat
annual
among
the
other
books
,
when
he
discovered
that
the
two
blank
leaves
at
the
beginning
were
stuck
together
.
He
was
so
determined
to
prosecute
his
search
to
the
very
uttermost
,
that
he
took
the
trouble
to
part
these
leaves
with
the
sharp
end
of
his
paper-knife
,
and
he
was
rewarded
for
his
perseverance
by
finding
an
inscription
upon
one
of
them
.
This
inscription
was
in
three
parts
,
and
in
three
different
hands
.
The
first
paragraph
was
dated
as
far
back
as
the
year
in
which
the
annual
had
been
published
,
and
set
forth
that
the
book
was
the
property
of
a
certain
Miss
Elizabeth
Ann
Bince
,
who
had
obtained
the
precious
volume
as
a
reward
for
habits
of
order
,
and
for
obedience
to
the
authorities
of
Camford
House
Seminary
,
Torquay
.
The
second
paragraph
was
dated
five
years
later
,
and
was
in
the
handwriting
of
Miss
Bince
herself
,
who
presented
the
book
,
as
a
mark
of
undying
affection
and
unfading
esteem
(
Miss
Bince
was
evidently
of
a
romantic
temperament
)
to
her
beloved
friend
,
Helen
Maldon
.
The
third
paragraph
was
dated
September
,
1853
,
and
was
in
the
hand
of
Helen
Maldon
,
who
gave
the
annual
to
George
Talboys
;
and
it
was
at
the
sight
of
this
third
paragraph
that
Mr.
Robert
Audley
's
face
changed
from
its
natural
hue
to
a
sickly
,
leaden
pallor
.
"
I
thought
it
would
be
so
,
"
said
the
young
man
,
shutting
the
book
with
a
weary
sigh
.
"
God
knows
I
was
prepared
for
the
worst
,
and
the
worst
has
come
.
I
can
understand
all
now
.
My
next
visit
must
be
to
Southampton
.
I
must
place
the
boy
in
better
hands
.
"
CHAPTER
XX
.
MRS.
PLOWSON
.
Among
the
packet
of
letters
which
Robert
Audley
had
found
in
George
's
trunk
,
there
was
one
labeled
with
the
name
of
the
missing
man
's
father
—
the
father
,
who
had
never
been
too
indulgent
a
friend
to
his
younger
son
,
and
who
had
gladly
availed
himself
of
the
excuse
afforded
by
George
's
imprudent
marriage
to
abandon
the
young
man
to
his
own
resources
.
Robert
Audley
had
never
seen
Mr.
Harcourt
Talboys
;
but
George
's
careless
talk
of
his
father
had
given
his
friend
some
notion
of
that
gentleman
's
character
.
He
had
written
to
Mr.
Talboys
immediately
after
the
disappearance
of
George
,
carefully
wording
his
letter
,
which
vaguely
hinted
at
the
writer
's
fear
of
some
foul
play
in
the
mysterious
business
;
and
,
after
the
lapse
of
several
weeks
,
he
had
received
a
formal
epistle
,
in
which
Mr.
Harcourt
Talboys
expressly
declared
that
he
had
washed
his
hands
of
all
responsibility
in
his
son
George
's
affairs
upon
the
young
man
's
wedding-day
;
and
that
his
absurd
disappearance
was
only
in
character
with
his
preposterous
marriage
.
The
writer
of
this
fatherly
letter
added
in
a
postscript
that
if
George
Talboys
had
any
low
design
of
alarming
his
friends
by
this
pretended
disappearance
,
and
thereby
playing
on
their
feelings
with
a
view
to
pecuniary
advantage
,
he
was
most
egregiously
deceived
in
the
character
of
those
persons
with
whom
he
had
to
deal
.
Robert
Audley
had
answered
this
letter
by
a
few
indignant
lines
,
informing
Mr.
Talboys
that
his
son
was
scarcely
likely
to
hide
himself
for
the
furtherance
of
any
deep-laid
design
on
the
pockets
of
his
relatives
,
as
he
had
left
twenty
thousand
pounds
in
his
bankers
'
hands
at
the
time
of
his
disappearance
.
After
dispatching
this
letter
,
Robert
had
abandoned
all
thought
of
assistance
from
the
man
who
,
in
the
natural
course
of
things
,
should
have
been
most
interested
in
George
's
fate
;
but
now
that
he
found
himself
advancing
every
day
some
step
nearer
to
the
end
that
lay
so
darkly
before
him
,
his
mind
reverted
to
this
heartlessly
indifferent
Mr.
Harcourt
Talboys
.
"
I
will
run
into
Dorsetshire
after
I
leave
Southampton
,
"
he
said
,
"
and
see
this
man
.
If
he
is
content
to
let
his
son
's
fate
rest
a
dark
and
cruel
mystery
to
all
who
knew
him
—
if
he
is
content
to
go
down
to
his
grave
uncertain
to
the
last
of
this
poor
fellow
's
end
—
why
should
I
try
to
unravel
the
tangled
skein
,
to
fit
the
pieces
of
the
terrible
puzzle
,
and
gather
together
the
stray
fragments
which
,
when
collected
,
may
make
such
a
hideous
whole
?
I
will
go
to
him
and
lay
my
darkest
doubts
freely
before
him
.
It
will
be
for
him
to
say
what
I
am
to
do
.
"
Robert
Audley
started
by
an
early
express
for
Southampton
.
The
snow
lay
thick
and
white
upon
the
pleasant
country
through
which
he
went
;
and
the
young
barrister
had
wrapped
himself
in
so
many
comforters
and
railway
rugs
as
to
appear
a
perambulating
mass
of
woollen
goods
,
rather
than
a
living
member
of
a
learned
profession
.
He
looked
gloomily
out
of
the
misty
window
,
opaque
with
the
breath
of
himself
and
an
elderly
Indian
officer
,
who
was
his
only
companion
,
and
watched
the
fleeting
landscape
,
which
had
a
certain
phantom-like
appearance
in
its
shroud
of
snow
.
He
wrapped
himself
in
the
vast
folds
of
his
railway
rug
,
with
a
peevish
shiver
,
and
felt
inclined
to
quarrel
with
the
destiny
which
compelled
him
to
travel
by
an
early
train
upon
a
pitiless
winter
's
day
.
"
Who
would
have
thought
that
I
could
have
grown
so
fond
of
the
fellow
,
"
he
muttered
,
"
or
feel
so
lonely
without
him
?
I
've
a
comfortable
little
fortune
in
the
three
per
cents
.
;
I
'm
heir
presumptive
to
my
uncle
's
title
;
and
I
know
of
a
certain
dear
little
girl
who
,
as
I
think
,
would
do
her
best
to
make
me
happy
;
but
I
declare
that
I
would
freely
give
up
all
,
and
stand
penniless
in
the
world
to-morrow
,
if
this
mystery
could
be
satisfactorily
cleared
away
,
and
George
Talboys
could
stand
by
my
side
.
"
He
reached
Southampton
between
eleven
and
twelve
o'clock
,
and
walked
across
the
platform
,
with
the
snow
drifting
in
his
face
,
toward
the
pier
and
the
lower
end
of
the
town
.
The
clock
of
St.
Michael
's
Church
was
striking
twelve
as
he
crossed
the
quaint
old
square
in
which
that
edifice
stands
,
and
groped
his
way
through
the
narrow
streets
leading
down
to
the
water
.
Mr.
Maldon
had
established
his
slovenly
household
gods
in
one
of
those
dreary
thoroughfares
which
speculative
builders
love
to
raise
upon
some
miserable
fragment
of
waste
ground
hanging
to
the
skirts
of
a
prosperous
town
.
Brigsome
's
Terrace
was
,
perhaps
,
one
of
the
most
dismal
blocks
of
building
that
was
ever
composed
of
brick
and
mortar
since
the
first
mason
plied
his
trowel
and
the
first
architect
drew
his
plan
.
The
builder
who
had
speculated
in
the
ten
dreary
eight-roomed
prison-houses
had
hung
himself
behind
the
parlor
door
of
an
adjacent
tavern
while
the
carcases
were
yet
unfinished
.
The
man
who
had
bought
the
brick
and
mortar
skeletons
had
gone
through
the
bankruptcy
court
while
the
paper-hangers
were
still
busy
in
Brigsome
's
Terrace
,
and
had
whitewashed
his
ceilings
and
himself
simultaneously
.
Ill
luck
and
insolvency
clung
to
the
wretched
habitations
.
The
bailiff
and
the
broker
's
man
were
as
well
known
as
the
butcher
and
the
baker
to
the
noisy
children
who
played
upon
the
waste
ground
in
front
of
the
parlor
windows
.
Solvent
tenants
were
disturbed
at
unhallowed
hours
by
the
noise
of
ghostly
furniture
vans
creeping
stealthily
away
in
the
moonless
night
.
Insolvent
tenants
openly
defied
the
collector
of
the
water-rate
from
their
ten-roomed
strongholds
,
and
existed
for
weeks
without
any
visible
means
of
procuring
that
necessary
fluid
.
Robert
Audley
looked
about
him
with
a
shudder
as
he
turned
from
the
waterside
into
this
poverty-stricken
locality
.
A
child
's
funeral
was
leaving
one
of
the
houses
as
he
approached
,
and
he
thought
with
a
thrill
of
horror
that
if
the
little
coffin
had
held
George
's
son
,
he
would
have
been
in
some
measure
responsible
for
the
boy
's
death
.
"
The
poor
child
shall
not
sleep
another
night
in
this
wretched
hovel
,
"
he
thought
,
as
he
knocked
at
the
door
of
Mr.
Maldon
's
house
.
"
He
is
the
legacy
of
my
best
friend
,
and
it
shall
be
my
business
to
secure
his
safety
.
"
A
slipshod
servant
girl
opened
the
door
and
looked
at
Mr.
Audley
rather
suspiciously
as
she
asked
him
,
very
much
through
her
nose
,
what
he
pleased
to
want
.
The
door
of
the
little
sitting
room
was
ajar
,
and
Robert
could
hear
the
clattering
of
knives
and
forks
and
the
childish
voice
of
little
George
prattling
gayly
.
He
told
the
servant
that
he
had
come
from
London
,
that
he
wanted
to
see
Master
Talboys
,
and
that
he
would
announce
himself
;
and
walking
past
her
,
without
further
ceremony
he
opened
the
door
of
the
parlor
.
The
girl
stared
at
him
aghast
as
he
did
this
;
and
as
if
struck
by
some
sudden
and
terrible
conviction
,
threw
her
apron
over
her
head
and
ran
out
into
the
snow
.
She
darted
across
the
waste
ground
,
plunged
into
a
narrow
alley
,
and
never
drew
breath
till
she
found
herself
upon
the
threshold
of
a
certain
tavern
called
the
Coach
and
Horses
,
and
much
affected
by
Mr.
Maldon
.
The
lieutenant
's
faithful
retainer
had
taken
Robert
Audley
for
some
new
and
determined
collector
of
poor
's
rates
—
rejecting
that
gentleman
's
account
of
himself
as
an
artful
fiction
devised
for
the
destruction
of
parochial
defaulters
—
and
had
hurried
off
to
give
her
master
timely
warning
of
the
enemy
's
approach
.
When
Robert
entered
the
sitting-room
he
was
surprised
to
find
little
George
seated
opposite
to
a
woman
who
was
doing
the
honors
of
a
shabby
repast
,
spread
upon
a
dirty
table-cloth
,
and
flanked
by
a
pewter
beer
measure
.
The
woman
rose
as
Robert
entered
,
and
courtesied
very
humbly
to
the
young
barrister
.
She
looked
about
fifty
years
of
age
,
and
was
dressed
in
rusty
widow
's
weeds
.
Her
complexion
was
insipidly
fair
,
and
the
two
smooth
bands
of
hair
beneath
her
cap
were
of
that
sunless
,
flaxen
hue
which
generally
accompanies
pink
cheeks
and
white
eyelashes
.
She
had
been
a
rustic
beauty
,
perhaps
,
in
her
time
,
but
her
features
,
although
tolerably
regular
in
their
shape
,
had
a
mean
,
pinched
look
,
as
if
they
had
been
made
too
small
for
her
face
.
This
defect
was
peculiarly
noticeable
in
her
mouth
,
which
was
an
obvious
misfit
for
the
set
of
teeth
it
contained
.
She
smiled
as
she
courtesied
to
Mr.
Robert
Audley
,
and
her
smile
,
which
laid
bare
the
greater
part
of
this
set
of
square
,
hungry-looking
teeth
,
by
no
means
added
to
the
beauty
of
her
personal
appearance
.
"
Mr.
Maldon
is
not
at
home
,
sir
,
"
she
said
,
with
insinuating
civility
;
"
but
if
it
's
for
the
water-rate
,
he
requested
me
to
say
that
—
"
She
was
interrupted
by
little
George
Talboys
,
who
scrambled
down
from
the
high
chair
upon
which
he
had
been
perched
,
and
ran
to
Robert
Audley
.
"
I
know
you
,
"
he
said
;
"
you
came
to
Ventnor
with
the
big
gentleman
,
and
you
came
here
once
,
and
you
gave
me
some
money
,
and
I
gave
it
to
gran'pa
to
take
care
of
,
and
gran'pa
kept
it
,
and
he
always
does
.
"
Robert
Audley
took
the
boy
in
his
arms
,
and
carried
him
to
a
little
table
in
the
window
.
"
Stand
there
,
Georgey
,
"
he
said
,
"
I
want
to
have
a
good
look
at
you
.
"
He
turned
the
boy
's
face
to
the
light
,
and
pushed
the
brown
curls
off
his
forehead
with
both
hands
.
"
You
are
growing
more
like
your
father
every
day
,
Georgey
;
and
you
're
growing
quite
a
man
,
too
,
"
he
said
;
"
would
you
like
to
go
to
school
?
"
"
Oh
,
yes
,
please
,
I
should
like
it
very
much
,
"
the
boy
answered
,
eagerly
.
"
I
went
to
school
at
Miss
Pevins
'
once
—
day-school
,
you
know
—
round
the
corner
in
the
next
street
;
but
I
caught
the
measles
,
and
gran'pa
would
n't
let
me
go
any
more
,
for
fear
I
should
catch
the
measles
again
;
and
gran'pa
wo
n't
let
me
play
with
the
little
boys
in
the
street
,
because
they
're
rude
boys
;
he
said
blackguard
boys
;
but
he
said
I
must
n't
say
blackguard
boys
,
because
it
's
naughty
.
He
says
damn
and
devil
,
but
he
says
he
may
because
he
's
old
.
I
shall
say
damn
and
devil
when
I
'm
old
;
and
I
should
like
to
go
to
school
,
please
,
and
I
can
go
to-day
,
if
you
like
;
Mrs.
Plowson
will
get
my
frocks
ready
,
wo
n't
you
,
Mrs.
Plowson
?
"
"
Certainly
,
Master
Georgey
,
if
your
grandpapa
wishes
it
,
"
the
woman
answered
,
looking
rather
uneasily
at
Mr.
Robert
Audley
.
"
What
on
earth
is
the
matter
with
this
woman
,
"
thought
Robert
as
he
turned
from
the
boy
to
the
fair-haired
widow
,
who
was
edging
herself
slowly
toward
the
table
upon
which
little
George
Talboys
stood
talking
to
his
guardian
.
"
Does
she
still
take
me
for
a
tax-collector
with
inimical
intentions
toward
these
wretched
goods
and
chattels
;
or
can
the
cause
of
her
fidgety
manner
lie
deeper
still
.
That
's
scarcely
likely
,
though
;
for
whatever
secrets
Lieutenant
Maldon
may
have
,
it
's
not
very
probable
that
this
woman
has
any
knowledge
of
them
.
"
Mrs.
Plowson
had
edged
herself
close
to
the
little
table
by
this
time
,
and
was
making
a
stealthy
descent
upon
the
boy
,
when
Robert
turned
sharply
round
.
"
What
are
you
going
to
do
with
the
child
?
"
he
said
.
"
I
was
only
going
to
take
him
away
to
wash
his
pretty
face
,
sir
,
and
smooth
his
hair
,
"
answered
the
woman
,
in
the
most
insinuating
tone
in
which
she
had
spoken
of
the
water-rate
.
"
You
do
n't
see
him
to
any
advantage
,
sir
,
while
his
precious
face
is
dirty
.
I
wo
n't
be
five
minutes
making
him
as
neat
as
a
new
pin
.
"
She
had
her
long
,
thin
arms
about
the
boy
as
she
spoke
,
and
she
was
evidently
going
to
carry
him
off
bodily
,
when
Robert
stopped
her
.
"
I
'd
rather
see
him
as
he
is
,
thank
you
,
"
he
said
.
"
My
time
in
Southampton
is
n't
very
long
,
and
I
want
to
hear
all
that
the
little
man
can
tell
me
.
"
The
little
man
crept
closer
to
Robert
,
and
looked
confidingly
into
the
barrister
's
gray
eyes
.
"
I
like
you
very
much
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
was
frightened
of
you
when
you
came
before
,
because
I
was
shy
.
I
am
not
shy
now
—
I
am
nearly
six
years
old
.
"
Robert
patted
the
boy
's
head
encouragingly
,
but
he
was
not
looking
at
little
George
;
he
was
watching
the
fair-haired
widow
,
who
had
moved
to
the
window
,
and
was
looking
out
at
the
patch
of
waste
ground
.
"
You
're
rather
fidgety
about
some
one
,
ma'am
,
I
'm
afraid
,
"
said
Robert
.
She
colored
violently
as
the
barrister
made
this
remark
,
and
answered
him
in
a
confused
manner
.
"
I
was
looking
for
Mr.
Maldon
,
sir
,
"
she
said
;
"
he
'll
be
so
disappointed
if
he
does
n't
see
you
.
"
"
You
know
who
I
am
,
then
?
"
"
No
,
sir
,
but
—
"
The
boy
interrupted
her
by
dragging
a
little
jeweled
watch
from
his
bosom
and
showing
it
to
Robert
.
"
This
is
the
watch
the
pretty
lady
gave
me
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
've
got
it
now
—
but
I
have
n't
had
it
long
,
because
the
jeweler
who
cleans
it
is
an
idle
man
,
gran'pa
says
,
and
always
keeps
it
such
a
long
time
;
and
gran'pa
says
it
will
have
to
be
cleaned
again
,
because
of
the
taxes
.
He
always
takes
it
to
be
cleaned
when
there
's
taxes
—
but
he
says
if
he
were
to
lose
it
the
pretty
lady
would
give
me
another
.
Do
you
know
the
pretty
lady
?
"
"
No
,
Georgey
,
but
tell
me
about
her
.
"
Mrs.
Plowson
made
another
descent
upon
the
boy
.
She
was
armed
with
a
pocket-handkerchief
this
time
,
and
displayed
great
anxiety
about
the
state
of
little
George
's
nose
,
but
Robert
warded
off
the
dreaded
weapon
,
and
drew
the
child
away
from
his
tormentor
.
"
The
boy
will
do
very
well
,
ma'am
,
"
he
said
,
"
if
you
'll
be
good
enough
to
let
him
alone
for
five
minutes
.
Now
,
Georgey
,
suppose
you
sit
on
my
knee
,
and
tell
me
all
about
the
pretty
lady
.
"
The
child
clambered
from
the
table
onto
Mr.
Audley
's
knees
,
assisting
his
descent
by
a
very
unceremonious
manipulation
of
his
guardian
's
coat-collar
.
"
I
'll
tell
you
all
about
the
pretty
lady
,
"
he
said
,
"
because
I
like
you
very
much
.
Gran'pa
told
me
not
to
tell
anybody
,
but
I
'll
tell
you
,
you
know
,
because
I
like
you
,
and
because
you
're
going
to
take
me
to
school
.
The
pretty
lady
came
here
one
night
—
long
ago
—
oh
,
so
long
ago
,
"
said
the
boy
,
shaking
his
head
,
with
a
face
whose
solemnity
was
expressive
of
some
prodigious
lapse
of
time
.
"
She
came
when
I
was
not
nearly
so
big
as
I
am
now
—
and
she
came
at
night
—
after
I
'd
gone
to
bed
,
and
she
came
up
into
my
room
,
and
sat
upon
the
bed
,
and
cried
—
and
she
left
the
watch
under
my
pillow
,
and
she
—
Why
do
you
make
faces
at
me
,
Mrs.
Plowson
?
I
may
tell
this
gentleman
,
"
Georgey
added
,
suddenly
addressing
the
widow
,
who
was
standing
behind
Robert
's
shoulder
.
Mrs.
Plowson
mumbled
some
confused
apology
to
the
effect
that
she
was
afraid
Master
George
was
troublesome
.
"
Suppose
you
wait
till
I
say
so
,
ma'am
,
before
you
stop
the
little
fellow
's
mouth
,
"
said
Robert
Audley
,
sharply
.
"
A
suspicious
person
might
think
from
your
manner
that
Mr.
Maldon
and
you
had
some
conspiracy
between
you
,
and
that
you
were
afraid
of
what
the
boy
's
talk
may
let
slip
.
"
He
rose
from
his
chair
,
and
looked
full
at
Mrs.
Plowson
as
he
said
this
.
The
fair-haired
widow
's
face
was
as
white
as
her
cap
when
she
tried
to
answer
him
,
and
her
pale
lips
were
so
dry
that
she
was
compelled
to
wet
them
with
her
tongue
before
the
words
would
come
.
The
little
boy
relieved
her
embarrassment
.
"
Do
n't
be
cross
to
Mrs.
Plowson
,
"
he
said
.
"
Mrs.
Plowson
is
very
kind
to
me
.
Mrs.
Plowson
is
Matilda
's
mother
.
You
do
n't
know
Matilda
.
Poor
Matilda
was
always
crying
;
she
was
ill
,
she
—
"
The
boy
was
stopped
by
the
sudden
appearance
of
Mr.
Maldon
,
who
stood
on
the
threshold
of
the
parlor
door
staring
at
Robert
Audley
with
a
half-drunken
,
half-terrified
aspect
,
scarcely
consistent
with
the
dignity
of
a
retired
naval
officer
.
The
servant
girl
,
breathless
and
panting
,
stood
close
behind
her
master
.
Early
in
the
day
though
it
was
,
the
old
man
's
speech
was
thick
and
confused
,
as
he
addressed
himself
fiercely
to
Mrs.
Plowson
.
"
You
're
a
prett
'
creature
to
call
yoursel
'
sensible
woman
?
"
he
said
.
"
Why
do
n't
you
take
th
'
chile
'
way
,
er
wash
'
s
face
?
D'yer
want
to
ruin
me
?
D'yer
want
to
'
stroy
me
?
Take
th
'
chile
'
way
!
Mr.
Audley
,
sir
,
I
'm
ver
'
glad
to
see
yer
;
ver
'
'
appy
to
'
ceive
yer
in
m
'
humbl
'
'
bode
,
"
the
old
man
added
with
tipsy
politeness
,
dropping
into
a
chair
as
he
spoke
,
and
trying
to
look
steadily
at
his
unexpected
visitor
.
"
Whatever
this
man
's
secrets
are
,
"
thought
Robert
,
as
Mrs.
Plowson
hustled
little
George
Talboys
out
of
the
room
,
"
that
woman
has
no
unimportant
share
of
them
.
Whatever
the
mystery
may
be
,
it
grows
darker
and
thicker
at
every
step
;
but
I
try
in
vain
to
draw
back
or
to
stop
short
upon
the
road
,
for
a
stronger
hand
than
my
own
is
pointing
the
way
to
my
lost
friend
's
unknown
grave
.
"
CHAPTER
XXI
.
LITTLE
GEORGEY
LEAVES
HIS
OLD
HOME
.
"
I
am
going
to
take
your
grandson
away
with
me
,
Mr.
Maldon
,
"
Robert
said
gravely
,
as
Mrs.
Plowson
retired
with
her
young
charge
.
The
old
man
's
drunken
imbecility
was
slowly
clearing
away
like
the
heavy
mists
of
a
London
fog
,
through
which
the
feeble
sunshine
struggles
dimly
to
appear
.
The
very
uncertain
radiance
of
Lieutenant
Maldon
's
intellect
took
a
considerable
time
in
piercing
the
hazy
vapors
of
rum-and-water
;
but
the
flickering
light
at
last
faintly
glimmered
athwart
the
clouds
,
and
the
old
man
screwed
his
poor
wits
to
the
sticking-point
.
"
Yes
,
yes
,
"
he
said
,
feebly
;
"
take
the
boy
away
from
his
poor
old
grandfather
;
I
always
thought
so
.
"
"
You
always
thought
that
I
should
take
him
away
?
"
scrutinizing
the
half-drunken
countenance
with
a
searching
glance
.
"
Why
did
you
think
so
,
Mr.
Maldon
?
"
The
fogs
of
intoxication
got
the
better
of
the
light
of
sobriety
for
a
moment
,
and
the
lieutenant
answered
vaguely
:
"
Thought
so
—
'
cause
I
thought
so
.
"
Meeting
the
young
barrister
's
impatient
frown
,
he
made
another
effort
,
and
the
light
glimmered
again
.
"
Because
I
thought
you
or
his
father
would
fetch
'
m
away
.
"
"
When
I
was
last
in
this
house
,
Mr.
Maldon
,
you
told
me
that
George
Talboys
had
sailed
for
Australia
.
"
"
Yes
,
yes
—
I
know
,
I
know
,
"
the
old
man
answered
,
confusedly
,
shuffling
his
scanty
limp
gray
hairs
with
his
two
wandering
hands
—
"
I
know
;
but
he
might
have
come
back
—
might
n't
he
?
He
was
restless
,
and
—
and
—
queer
in
his
mind
,
perhaps
,
sometimes
.
He
might
have
come
back
.
"
He
repeated
this
two
or
three
times
in
feeble
,
muttering
tones
;
groping
about
on
the
littered
mantle-piece
for
a
dirty-looking
clay
pipe
,
and
filling
and
lighting
it
with
hands
that
trembled
violently
.
Robert
Audley
watched
those
poor
,
withered
,
tremulous
fingers
dropping
shreds
of
tobacco
upon
the
hearth
rug
,
and
scarcely
able
to
kindle
a
lucifer
for
their
unsteadiness
.
Then
walking
once
or
twice
up
and
down
the
little
room
,
he
left
the
old
man
to
take
a
few
puffs
from
the
great
consoler
.
Presently
he
turned
suddenly
upon
the
half-pay
lieutenant
with
a
dark
solemnity
in
his
handsome
face
.
"
Mr.
Maldon
,
"
he
said
,
slowly
watching
the
effect
of
every
syllable
as
he
spoke
,
"
George
Talboys
never
sailed
for
Australia
—
that
I
know
.
More
than
this
,
he
never
came
to
Southampton
;
and
the
lie
you
told
me
on
the
8th
of
last
September
was
dictated
to
you
by
the
telegraphic
message
which
you
received
on
that
day
.
"
The
dirty
clay
pipe
dropped
from
the
tremulous
hand
,
and
shivered
against
the
iron
fender
,
but
the
old
man
made
no
effort
to
find
a
fresh
one
;
he
sat
trembling
in
every
limb
,
and
looking
,
Heaven
knows
how
piteously
,
at
Robert
Audley
.
"
The
lie
was
dictated
to
you
,
and
you
repeated
your
lesson
.
But
you
no
more
saw
George
Talboys
here
on
the
7th
of
September
than
I
see
him
in
this
room
now
.
You
thought
you
had
burnt
the
telegraphic
message
,
but
you
had
only
burnt
a
part
of
it
—
the
remainder
is
in
my
possession
.
"
Lieutenant
Maldon
was
quite
sober
now
.
"
What
have
I
done
?
"
he
murmured
,
hopelessly
.
"
Oh
,
my
God
!
what
have
I
done
?
"
"
At
two
o'clock
on
the
7th
of
September
last
,
"
continued
the
pitiless
,
accusing
voice
,
"
George
Talboys
was
seen
alive
and
well
at
a
house
in
Essex
.
"
Robert
paused
to
see
the
effect
of
these
words
.
They
had
produced
no
change
in
the
old
man
.
He
still
sat
trembling
from
head
to
foot
,
and
staring
with
the
fixed
and
solid
gaze
of
some
helpless
wretch
whose
every
sense
is
gradually
becoming
numbed
by
terror
.
"
At
two
o'clock
on
that
day
,
"
remarked
Robert
Audley
,
"
my
poor
friend
was
seen
alive
and
well
at
—
—
,
at
the
house
of
which
I
speak
.
From
that
hour
to
this
I
have
never
been
able
to
hear
that
he
has
been
seen
by
any
living
creature
.
I
have
taken
such
steps
as
must
have
resulted
in
procuring
the
information
of
his
whereabouts
,
were
he
alive
.
I
have
done
this
patiently
and
carefully
—
at
first
,
even
hopefully
.
Now
I
know
that
he
is
dead
.
"
Robert
Audley
had
been
prepared
to
witness
some
considerable
agitation
in
the
old
man
's
manner
,
but
he
was
not
prepared
for
the
terrible
anguish
,
the
ghastly
terror
,
which
convulsed
Mr.
Maldon
's
haggard
face
as
he
uttered
the
last
word
.
"
No
,
no
,
no
,
no
,
"
reiterated
the
lieutenant
,
in
a
shrill
,
half-screaming
voice
;
"
no
,
no
!
For
God
's
sake
,
do
n't
say
that
!
Do
n't
think
it
—
do
n't
let
me
think
it
—
do
n't
let
me
dream
of
it
!
Not
dead
—
anything
but
dead
!
Hidden
away
,
perhaps
—
bribed
to
keep
out
of
the
way
,
perhaps
;
but
not
dead
—
not
dead
—
not
dead
!
"
He
cried
these
words
aloud
,
like
one
beside
himself
,
beating
his
hands
upon
his
gray
head
,
and
rocking
backward
and
forward
in
his
chair
.
His
feeble
hands
trembled
no
longer
—
they
were
strengthened
by
some
convulsive
force
that
gave
them
a
new
power
.
"
I
believe
,
"
said
Robert
,
in
the
same
solemn
,
relentless
voice
,
"
that
my
friend
left
Essex
;
and
I
believe
he
died
on
the
7th
of
September
last
.
"
The
wretched
old
man
,
still
beating
his
hands
among
his
thin
gray
hair
,
slid
from
his
chair
to
the
ground
,
and
groveled
at
Robert
's
feet
.
"
Oh
!
no
,
no
—
for
God
's
,
no
!
"
he
shrieked
hoarsely
.
"
No
!
you
do
n't
know
what
you
say
—
you
do
n't
know
what
your
words
mean
!
"
"
I
know
their
weight
and
value
only
too
well
—
as
well
as
I
see
you
do
,
Mr.
Maldon
.
God
help
us
!
"
"
Oh
,
what
am
I
doing
?
what
am
I
doing
?
"
muttered
the
old
man
,
feebly
;
then
raising
himself
from
the
ground
with
an
effort
,
he
drew
himself
to
his
full
height
,
and
said
,
in
a
manner
which
was
new
to
him
,
and
which
was
not
without
a
certain
dignity
of
his
own
—
that
dignity
which
must
be
always
attached
to
unutterable
misery
,
in
whatever
form
it
may
appear
—
he
said
,
gravely
:
"
You
have
no
right
to
come
here
and
terrify
a
man
who
has
been
drinking
,
and
who
is
not
quite
himself
.
You
have
no
right
to
do
it
,
Mr.
Audley
.
Even
the
—
the
officer
,
sir
,
who
—
who
—
.
"
He
did
not
stammer
,
but
his
lips
trembled
so
violently
that
his
words
seemed
to
be
shaken
into
pieces
by
their
motion
.
"
The
officer
,
I
repeat
,
sir
,
who
arrests
a
—
thief
,
or
a
—
.
"
He
stopped
to
wipe
his
lips
,
and
to
still
them
if
he
could
by
doing
so
,
which
he
could
not
.
"
A
thief
or
a
murderer
—
"
His
voice
died
suddenly
away
upon
the
last
word
,
and
it
was
only
by
the
motion
of
those
trembling
lips
that
Robert
knew
what
he
meant
.
"
Gives
him
warning
,
sir
,
fair
warning
,
that
he
may
say
nothing
which
shall
commit
himself
—
or
—
or
—
other
people
.
The
—
the
—
law
,
sir
,
has
that
amount
of
mercy
for
a
—
a
—
suspected
criminal
.
But
you
,
sir
,
—
you
come
to
my
house
,
and
you
come
at
a
time
when
—
when
—
contrary
to
my
usual
habits
—
which
,
as
people
will
tell
you
,
are
sober
—
you
take
the
opportunity
to
—
terrify
me
—
and
it
is
not
right
,
sir
—
it
is
—
"
Whatever
he
would
have
said
died
away
into
inarticulate
gasps
,
which
seemed
to
choke
him
,
and
sinking
into
a
chair
,
he
dropped
his
face
upon
the
table
,
and
wept
aloud
.
Perhaps
in
all
the
dismal
scenes
of
domestic
misery
which
had
been
acted
in
those
spare
and
dreary
houses
—
in
all
the
petty
miseries
,
the
burning
shames
,
the
cruel
sorrows
,
the
bitter
disgraces
which
own
poverty
for
their
father
—
there
had
never
been
such
a
scene
as
this
.
An
old
man
hiding
his
face
from
the
light
of
day
,
and
sobbing
aloud
in
his
wretchedness
.
Robert
Audley
contemplated
the
painful
picture
with
a
hopeless
and
pitying
face
.
"
If
I
had
known
this
,
"
he
thought
,
"
I
might
have
spared
him
.
It
would
have
been
better
,
perhaps
,
to
have
spared
him
.
"
The
shabby
room
,
the
dirt
,
the
confusion
,
the
figure
of
the
old
man
,
with
his
gray
head
upon
the
soiled
tablecloth
,
amid
the
muddled
débris
of
a
wretched
dinner
,
grew
blurred
before
the
sight
of
Robert
Audley
as
he
thought
of
another
man
,
as
old
as
this
one
,
but
,
ah
!
how
widely
different
in
every
other
quality
!
who
might
come
by
and
by
to
feel
the
same
,
or
even
a
worse
anguish
,
and
to
shed
,
perhaps
,
yet
bitterer
tears
.
The
moment
in
which
the
tears
rose
to
his
eyes
and
dimmed
the
piteous
scene
before
him
,
was
long
enough
to
take
him
back
to
Essex
,
and
to
show
him
the
image
of
his
uncle
,
stricken
by
agony
and
shame
.
"
Why
do
I
go
on
with
this
?
"
he
thought
;
"
how
pitiless
I
am
,
and
how
relentlessly
I
am
carried
on
.
It
is
not
myself
;
it
is
the
hand
which
is
beckoning
me
further
and
further
upon
the
dark
road
,
whose
end
I
dare
not
dream
of
.
"
He
thought
this
,
and
a
hundred
times
more
than
this
,
while
the
old
man
sat
with
his
face
still
hidden
,
wrestling
with
his
anguish
,
but
without
power
to
keep
it
down
.
"
Mr.
Maldon
,
"
Robert
Audley
said
,
after
a
pause
,
"
I
do
not
ask
you
to
forgive
me
for
what
I
have
brought
upon
you
,
for
the
feeling
is
strong
within
me
that
it
must
have
come
to
you
sooner
or
later
—
if
not
through
me
,
through
some
one
else
.
There
are
—
"
he
stopped
for
a
moment
hesitating
.
The
sobbing
did
not
cease
;
it
was
sometimes
low
,
sometimes
loud
,
bursting
out
with
fresh
violence
,
or
dying
away
for
an
instant
,
but
never
ceasing
.
"
There
are
some
things
which
,
as
people
say
,
cannot
be
hidden
.
I
think
there
is
truth
in
that
common
saying
which
had
its
origin
in
that
old
worldly
wisdom
which
people
gathered
from
experience
and
not
from
books
.
If
—
if
I
were
content
to
let
my
friend
rest
in
his
hidden
grave
,
it
is
but
likely
that
some
stranger
who
had
never
heard
the
name
of
George
Talboys
,
might
fall
by
the
remotest
accident
upon
the
secret
of
his
death
.
To-morrow
,
perhaps
;
or
ten
years
hence
,
or
in
another
generation
,
when
the
—
the
hand
that
wronged
him
is
as
cold
as
his
own
.
If
I
could
let
the
matter
rest
;
if
—
if
I
could
leave
England
forever
,
and
purposely
fly
from
the
possibility
of
ever
coming
across
another
clew
to
the
secret
