CHAPTER XXXVII
Old Mrs. Hutchinson's letter had supplied much detail, but when her
son and grand-daughter arrived in the village of Temple Barholm they
heard much more, the greater part of it not in the least to be relied
upon.
"The most of it's lies, as folks enjoys theirsels pretendin' to
believe," the grand- mother commented. "It's servants'-hall talk and
cottage gossip, and plenty made itself up out o' beer drunk in th'
tap-room at th' Wool Park. In a place where naught much happens,
people get into th' way 'o springin' on a bit o' news, and shakin' and
worryin' it like a terrier does a rat. It's nature. That lad's given
'em lots to talk about ever since he coom. He's been a blessin' to
'em. If he'd been gentry, he'd not ha' been nigh as lively. Th'
village lads tries to talk through their noses like him. Little Tummas
Hibblethwaite does it i' broad Lancashire."
The only facts fairly authenticated were that the mysterious stranger
had been taken away very late one night, some time before the
interview between Mr. Temple Barholm and Captain Palliser, of which
Burrill knew so much because he had "happened to be about." When a
domestic magnate of Burrill's type "happens to be about" at a crisis,
he is not unlikely to hear a great deal. Burrill, it was believed,
knew much more than he deigned to make public. The entire truth was
that Captain Palliser himself, in one of his hasty appearances in the
neighborhood of Temple Barholm, had bestowed a few words of cold
caution on him.
"Don't talk too much," he had said. "Proof is required before talk is
safe. The American was sharp enough to say that to me himself. He was
sharp enough, too, to keep his man hidden. I was the only person that
saw him who could have recognized him, and I saw him by chance.
Palford & Grimby require proof. We are in search of it. Servants will
talk; but if you don't want to run the risk of getting yourself into
trouble, don't make absolute statements."
This had been a disappointment to Burrill, who had seen himself
developing in magnitude; but he was a timid man, and therefore felt it
wise to convey his knowledge merely through the conviction carried by
a dignified silence after his first indiscreet revelation of having
"happened to be about" had been made. It would have been some solace
to him to intimate to Miss Alicia by his bearing and the manner of his
services that she had been discovered, so to speak, in the character
of a sort of accomplice; that her position was a perilously uncertain
one, which would probably end in utter downfall, leaving her in her
old and proper place as an elderly, insignificant, and unattractive
poor relation, without a feature to recommend her. But being, as
before remarked, a timid man, and recalling the interview between
himself and his employer held outside the dining-room door, and having
also a disturbing memory of the sharp, cool, boyish eye and the tone
of the casual remark that he had "a head on his shoulders" and that it
was "up to him to make the others understand," it seemed as well to
restrain his inclinations until the proof Palford & Grimby required
was forthcoming.
It was perhaps the moderate and precautionary attitude of Palford &
Grimby, during their first somewhat startled though reserved interview
with Captain Palliser, which had prevented the vaguely wild rumors
from being regarded as more than villagers' exaggerated talk among
themselves. The "gentry," indeed, knew much less of the cottagers than
the cottagers knew of the gentry; consequently events furnishing much
excitement among the village people not infrequently remained unheard-
of by those in the class above them. A story less incredible might
have been more considered; but the highly colored reasons given for
the absence of the owner of Temple Barholm would, if heard of, have
been more than likely to be received and passed over with a smile.
The manner of Mr. Palford and also of Mr. Grimby during the
deliberately unmelodramatic and carefully connected relation of
Captain Palliser's singular story, was that of professional gentlemen
who for reasons of good breeding were engaged in restraining outward
expression of conviction that they were listening to utter nonsense.
Palliser himself was aware of this, and upon the whole did not wonder
at it in entirely unimaginative persons of extremely sober lives. In
fact, he had begun by giving them some warning as to what they might
expect in the way of unusualness.
"You will, no doubt, think what I am about to tell you absurd and
incredible," he had prefaced his statements. "I thought the same
myself when my first suspicions were aroused. I was, in fact, inclined
to laugh at my own idea until one link connected itself with another."
Neither Mr. Grimby nor Mr. Palford was inclined to laugh. On the
contrary, they were extremely grave, and continued to find it
necessary to restrain their united tendency to indicate facially that
the thing must be nonsense. It transcended all bounds, as it were. The
delicacy with which they managed to convey this did them much credit.
This delicacy was equaled by the moderation with which Captain
Palliser drew their attention to the fact that it was not the thing
likely-to-happen on which were founded the celebrated criminal cases
of legal history; it was the incredible and almost impossible events,
the ordinarily unbelievable duplicities, moral obliquities and
coincidences, which made them what they were and attracted the
attention of the world. This, Mr. Palford and his partner were
obviously obliged to admit. What they did not admit was that such
things never having occurred in one's own world, they had been
mentally relegated to the world of newspaper and criminal record as
things that could not happen to oneself. Mr. Palford cleared his
throat in a seriously cautionary way.
"This is, of course, a matter suggesting too serious an accusation not
to be approached in the most conservative manner," he remarked.
"Most serious consequences have resulted in cases implying libelous
assertions which have been made rashly," added Mr. Grimby. "As Mr.
Temple Barholm intimated to you, a man of almost unlimited means has
command of resources which it might not be easy to contend with if he
had reason to feel himself injured."
The fact that Captain Palliser had in a bitterly frustrated moment
allowed himself to be goaded into losing his temper, and "giving away"
to Tembarom the discovery on which he had felt that he could rely as a
lever, did not argue that a like weakness would lead him into more
dangerous indiscretion. He had always regarded himself as a careful
man whose defenses were well built about him at such crises in his
career as rendered entrenchment necessary. There would, of course, be
some pleasure in following the matter up and getting more than even
with a man who had been insolent to him; but a more practical feature
of the case was that if, through his alert observation and shrewd aid,
Jem Temple Barholm was restored to his much-to-be-envied place in the
world, a far from unnatural result would be that he might feel
suitable gratitude and indebted-ness to the man who, not from actual
personal liking but from a mere sense of justice, had rescued him. As
for the fears of Messrs. Palford & Grimby, he had put himself on
record with Burrill by commanding him to hold his tongue and stating
clearly that proof was both necessary and lacking. No man could be
regarded as taking risks whose attitude was so wholly conservative and
non-accusing. Servants will gossip. A superior who reproves such
gossip holds an unattackable position. In the private room of Palford
& Grimby, however, he could confidently express his opinions without
risk.
"The recognition of a man lost sight of for years, and seen only for a
moment through a window, is not substantial evidence," Mr. Grimby had
proceeded. "The incident was startling, but not greatly to be relied
upon."
"I knew him." Palliser was slightly grim in his air of finality. "He
was a man most men either liked or hated. I didn't like him. I
detested a trick he had of staring at you under his drooping lids. By
the way, do you remember the portrait of Miles Hugo which was so like
him?"
Mr. Palford remembered having heard that there was a certain portrait
in the gallery which Mr. James Temple Barholm had been said to
resemble. He had no distinct recollection of the ancestor it
represented.
"It was a certain youngster who was a page in the court of Charles the
Second and who died young. Miles Hugo Charles James was his name. He
is my strongest clue. The American seemed rather keen the first time
we talked together. He was equally keen about Jem Temple Barholm. He
wanted to know what he looked like, and whether it was true that he
was like the portrait."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Palford and Grimby, simultaneously.
"It struck me that there was something more than mere curiosity in his
manner," Palliser enlarged. "I couldn't make him out then. Later, I
began to see that he was remarkably anxious to keep every one from
Strangeways. It was a sort of Man in the Iron Mask affair. Strangeways
was apparently not only too excitable to be looked at or spoken to,
but too excitable to be spoken of. He wouldn't talk about him."
"That is exceedingly curious," remarked Mr. Palford, but it was not in
response to Palliser. A few moments before he had suddenly looked
thoughtful. He wore now the aspect of a man trying to recall something
as Palliser continued.
"One day, after I had been to look at a sunset through a particular
window in the wing where Strangeways was kept, I passed the door of
his sitting-room, and heard the American arguing with him. He was
evidently telling him he was to be taken elsewhere, and the poor devil
was terrified. I heard him beg him for God's sake not to send him
away. There was panic in his voice. In connection with the fact that
he has got him away secretly--at midnight-it's an ugly thing to
recall."
"It would seem to have significance." Grimby said it uneasily.
"It set me thinking and looking into things," Palliser went on.
"Pearson was secretive, but the head man, Burrill, made casual
enlightening remarks. I gathered some curious details, which might or
might not have meant a good deal. When Strangeways suddenly appeared
at his window one evening a number of things fitted themselves
together. My theory is that the American--Tembarom, as he used to call
himself --may not have been certain of the identity at first, but he
wouldn't have brought Strangeways with him if he had not had some
reason to suspect who he was. He daren't lose sight of him, and he
wanted time to make sure and to lay his plans. The portrait of Miles
Hugo was a clue which alarmed him, and no doubt he has been following
it. If he found it led to nothing, he could easily turn Strangeways
over to the public charge and let him be put into a lunatic asylum. If
he found it led to a revelation which would make him a pauper again,
it would be easy to dispose of him."
"Come! Come! Captain Palliser! We mustn't go too far!" ejaculated Mr.
Grimby, alarmedly. It shocked him to think of the firm being dragged
into a case dealing with capital crime and possible hangmen! That was
not its line of the profession.
Captain Palliser's slight laugh contained no hint of being shocked by
any possibilities whatever.
"There are extremely private asylums and so-called sanatoriums where
the discipline is strict, and no questions are asked. One sometimes
reads in the papers of cases in which mild-mannered keepers in
defending themselves against the attacks of violent patients are
obliged to use force--with disastrous results. It is in such places
that our investigations should begin."
"Dear me! Dear me!" Mr. Grimby broke out. "Isn't that going rather
far? You surely don't think--"
"Mr. Tembarom's chief characteristic was that he was a practical and
direct person. He would do what he had to do in exactly that
businesslike manner. The inquiries I have been making have been as to
the whereabouts of places in which a superfluous relative might be
placed without attracting attention."
"That is really astute, but--but--what do you think, Palford?" Mr.
Grimby turned to his partner, still wearing the shocked and disturbed
expression.
"I have been recalling to mind a circumstance which probably bears
upon the case," said Mr. Palford. "Captain Palliser's mention of the
portrait reminded me of it. I remember now that on Mr. Temple
Barholm's first visit to the picture-gallery he seemed much attracted
by the portrait of Miles Hugo. He stopped and examined it curiously.
He said he felt as if he had seen it before. He turned to it once or
twice; and finally remarked that he might have seen some one like it
at a great fancy-dress ball which had taken place in New York."
"Had he been invited to the ball?" laughed Palliser.
"I did not gather that," replied Mr. Palford gravely. "He had
apparently watched the arriving guests from some railings near by--or
perhaps it was a lamp-post--with other news-boys."
"He recognized the likeness to Strangeways, no doubt, and it gave him
what he calls a 'jolt,'" said Captain Palliser. "He must have
experienced a number of jolts during the last few months."
Palford & Grimby's view of the matter continued to be marked by
extreme distaste for the whole situation and its disturbing and
irritating possibilities. The coming of the American heir to the
estate of Temple Barholm had been trying to the verge of extreme
painfulness; but, sufficient time having lapsed and their client
having troubled them but little, they had outlived the shock of his
first appearance and settled once more into the calm of their
accustomed atmosphere and routine. That he should suddenly reappear
upon their dignified horizon as a probable melodramatic criminal was a
fault of taste and a lack of consideration beyond expression. To be
dragged-into vulgar detective work, to be referred to in news-papers
in a connection which would lead to confusing the firm with the
representatives of such branches of the profession as dealt with
persons who had committed acts for which in vulgar parlance they might
possibly "swing," if their legal defenders did not "get them off," to
a firm whose sole affairs had been the dealing with noble and ancient
estates, with advising and supporting personages of stately name, and
with private and weighty family confidences. If the worst came to the
worst, the affair would surely end in the most glaring and odious
notoriety: in head-lines and daily reports even in London, in
appalling pictures of every one concerned in every New York newspaper,
even in baffled struggles to keep abominable woodcuts of themselves--
Mr. Edward James Palford and Mr. James Matthew Grimby--from being
published in sensational journalistic sheets! Professional duty
demanded that the situation should be dealt with, that investigation
should be entered into, that the most serious even if conservative
steps should be taken at once. With regard to the accepted report of
Mr. James Temple Barholm's tragic death, it could not be denied that
Captain Palliser's view of the naturalness of the origin of the
mistake that had been made had a logical air.
"In a region full of rioting derelicts crazed with the lawless
excitement of their dash after gold," he had said, "identities and
names are easily lost. Temple Barholm himself was a derelict and in a
desperate state. He was in no mood to speak of himself or try to make
friends. He no doubt came and went to such work as he did scarcely
speaking to any one. A mass of earth and debris of all sorts suddenly
gives way, burying half-a-dozen men. Two or three are dug out dead,
the others not reached. There was no time to spare to dig for dead
men. Some one had seen Temple Barholm near the place; he was seen no
more. Ergo, he was buried with the rest. At that time, those who knew
him in England felt it was the best thing that could have happened to
him. It would have been if his valet had not confessed his trick, and
old Temple Barholm had not died. My theory is that he may have left
the place days before the accident without being missed. His mental
torment caused some mental illness, it does not matter what. He lost
his memory and wandered about--the Lord knows how or where he lived;
he probably never knew himself. The American picked him up and found
that he had money. For reasons of his own, he professed to take care
of him. He must have come on some clue just when he heard of his new
fortune. He was naturally panic-stricken; it must have been a big blow
at that particular moment. He was sharp enough to see what it might
mean, and held on to the poor chap like grim death, and has been
holding on ever since."
"We must begin to take steps," decided Palford & Grimby. "We must of
course take steps at once, but we must begin with discretion."
After grave private discussion, they began to take the steps in
question and with the caution that it seemed necessary to observe
until they felt solid ground under their feet. Captain Palliser was
willing to assist them. He had been going into the matter himself. He
went down to the neighborhood of Temple Barholm and quietly looked up
data which might prove illuminating when regarded from one point or
another. It was on the first of these occasions that he saw and warned
Burrill. It was from Burrill he heard of Tummas Hibblethwaite.
"There's an impident little vagabond in the village, sir," he said,
"that Mr. Temple Barholm used to go and see and take New York
newspapers to. A cripple the lad is, and he's got a kind of craze for
talking about Mr. James Temple Barholm. He had a map of the place
where he was said to be killed. If I may presume to mention it, sir,"
he added with great dignity, "it is my opinion that the two had a good
deal of talk together on the subject."
"I dare say," Captain Palliser admitted indifferently, and made no
further inquiry or remark.
He sauntered into the Hibblethwaite cottage, however, late the next
afternoon.
Tummas was in a bad temper, for reasons quite sufficient for himself,
and he regarded him sourly.
"What has tha coom for?" he demanded. "I did na ask thee."
"Don't be cheeky!" said Captain Palliser. "I will give you a sovereign
if you'll let me see the map you and Mr. Temple Barholm used to look
at and talk so much about."
He laid the sovereign down on the small table by Tummas's sofa, but
Tummas did not pick it up.
"I know who tha art. Tha'rt Palliser, an' tha wast th' one as said as
him as was killed in th' Klondike had coom back alive."
"You've been listening to that servants' story, have you?" remarked
Palliser. "You had better be careful as to what you say. I suppose you
never heard of libel suits. Where would you find yourself if you were
called upon to pay Mr. Temple Barholm ten thousand pounds' damages?
You'd be obliged to sell your atlas."
"Burrill towd as he heard thee say tha'd swear in court as it was th'
one as was killed as tha'd seen."
"That's Burrill's story, not mine. And Burrill had better keep his
mouth shut," said Palliser. "If it were true, how would you like it?
I've heard you were interested in 'th' one as was killed.'"
Tummas's eyes burned troublously.
"I've got reet down taken wi' th' other un," he answered. "He's noan
gentry, but he's th' reet mak'. I--I dunnot believe as him as was
killed has coom back."
"Neither do I," Palliser answered, with amiable tolerance. "The
American gentleman had better come back himself and disprove it. When
you used to talk about the Klondike, he never said anything to make
you feel as if he doubted that the other man was dead?"
"Not him," answered Tummas.
"Eh! Tummas, what art tha talkin' about?" exclaimed Mrs.
Hibblethwaite, who was mending at the other end of the room. "I heerd
him say mysel, `Suppose th' story hadn't been true an' he was alive
somewhere now, it'd make a big change, would na' it?' An' he laughed."
"I never heerd him," said Tummas, in stout denial.
"Tha's losin' tha moind," commented his mother. "As soon as I heerd
th' talk about him runnin' away an' takin' th' mad gentleman wi' him I
remembered it. An' I remembered as he sat still after it and said nowt
for a minute or so, same as if he was thinkin' things over. Theer was
summat a bit queer about it."
"I never heerd him," Tummas asserted, obstinately, and shut his mouth.
"He were as ready to talk about th' poor gentleman as met with th'
accident as tha wert thysel', Tummas," Mrs. Hibblethwaite proceeded,
moved by the opportunity offered for presenting her views on the
exciting topic. "He'd ax thee aw sorts o' questions about what tha'd
found out wi' pumpin' foak. He'd ax me questions now an' agen about
what he was loike to look at, an' how tall he wur. Onct he axed me if
I remembered what soart o' chin he had an' how he spoke."
"It wur to set thee goin' an' please me," volunteered Tummas,
grudgingly. "He did it same as he'd look at th' map to please me an'
tell me tales about th' news-lads i' New York."
It had not seemed improbable that a village cripple tied to a sofa
would be ready enough to relate all he knew, and perhaps so much more
that it would be necessary to use discretion in selecting statements
of value. To drop in and give him a sovereign and let him talk had
appeared simple. Lads of his class liked to be listened to, enjoyed
enlarging upon and rendering dramatic such material as had fallen into
their hands. But Tummas was an eccentric, and instinct led him to
close like an oyster before a remote sense of subtly approaching
attack. It was his mother, not he, who had provided information; but
it was not sufficiently specialized to be worth much.
"What did tha say he'd run away fur?" Tummas said to his parent later.
"He's not one o' th' runnin' away soart."
"He has probably been called away by business," remarked Captain
Palliser, as he rose to go after a few minutes' casual talk with Mrs.
Hibblethwaite. "It was a mistake not to leave an address behind him.
Your mother is mistaken in saying that he took the mad gentleman with
him. He had him removed late at night some time before he went
himself."
"Tak tha sov'rin'," said Tummas, as Palliser moved away. "I did na
show thee th' atlas. Tha did na want to see it."
"I will leave the sovereign for your mother," said Palliser. "I'm
sorry you are not in a better humor."
His interest in the atlas had indeed been limited to his idea that it
would lead to subjects of talk which might cast illuminating side-
lights and possibly open up avenues and vistas. Tummas, however,
having instinctively found him displeasing, he had gained but little.
Avenues and vistas were necessary --avenues through which the steps of
Palford and Grimby might wander, vistas which they might explore with
hesitating, investigating glances. So far, the scene remained
unpromisingly blank. The American Temple Barholm had simply
disappeared, as had his mysterious charge. Steps likely to lead to
definite results can scarcely be taken hopefully in the case of a
person who has seemed temporarily to cease to exist. You cannot
interrogate him, you cannot demand information, whatsoever the
foundations upon which rest your accusations, if such accusation can
be launched only into thin air and the fact that there is nobody to
reply to --to acknowledge or indignantly refute them--is in itself a
serious barrier to accomplishment. It was also true that only a few
weeks had elapsed since the accused had, so to speak, dematerialized.
It was also impossible to calculate upon what an American of his class
and peculiarities would be likely to do in any circumstances whatever.
In private conference, Palford and Grimby frankly admitted to each
other that they would almost have preferred that Captain Palliser
should have kept his remarkable suspicions to himself, for the time
being at least. Yet when they had admitted this they were confronted
by the disturbing possibility--suggested by Palliser--that actual
crime had been or might be committed. They had heard unpleasant
stories of private lunatic asylums and their like. Things to shudder
at might be going on at the very moment they spoke to each other.
Under this possibility, no supineness would be excusable. Efforts to
trace the missing man must at least be made. Efforts were made, but
with no result. Painful as it was to reflect on the subject of the
asylums, careful private inquiry was made, information was quietly
collected, there were even visits to gruesomely quiet places on
various polite pretexts.
"If a longer period of time had elapsed," Mr. Palford remarked several
times, with some stiffness of manner, "we should feel that we had more
solid foundation for our premises."
"Perfectly right," Captain Palliser agreed with him, "but it is lapse
of time which may mean life or death to Jem Temple Barholm; so it's
perhaps as well to be on the safe side and go on quietly following
small clues. I dare say you would feel more comfortable yourselves."
Both Mr. Palford and Mr. Grimby, having made an appointment with Miss
Alicia, arrived one afternoon at Temple Barholm to talk to her
privately, thereby casting her into a state of agonized anxiety which
reduced her to pallor.
"Our visit is merely one of inquiry, Miss Temple Barholm," Mr. Palford
began. "There is perhaps nothing alarming in our client's absence."
"In the note which he left me he asked me to--feel no anxiety," Miss
Alicia said.
"He left you a note of explanation? I wish we had known this earlier!"
Mr. Palford's tone had the note of relieved exclamation. Perhaps there
was an entirely simple solution of the painful difficulty.
But his hope had been too sanguine.
"It was not a note of explanation, exactly. He went away too suddenly
to have time to explain."
The two men looked at each other disturbedly.
"He had not mentioned to you his intention of going?" asked Mr.
Grimby.
"I feel sure he did not know he was going when he said good-night. He
remained with Captain Palliser talking for some time." Miss Alicia's
eyes held wavering and anxious question as she looked from one to the
other. She wondered how much more than herself her visitors knew. "He
found a telegram when he went to his room. It contained most
disquieting news about Mr. Strangeways. He--he had got away from the
place where--"
"Got away!" Mr. Palford was again exclamatory. "Was he in some
institution where he was kept under restraint?"
Miss Alicia was wholly unable to explain to herself why some quality
in his manner filled her with sudden distress.
"Oh, I think not! Surely not! Surely nothing of that sort was
necessary. He was very quiet always, and he was getting better every
day. But it was important that he should be watched over. He was no
doubt under the care of a physician in some quiet sanatorium."
"Some quiet sanatorium!" Mr. Palford's disturbance of mind was
manifest. "But you did not know where?"
"No. Indeed, Mr. Temple Barholm talked very little of Mr. Strangeways.
I believe he knew that it distressed me to feel that I could be of no
real assistance as--as the case was so peculiar."
Each perturbed solicitor looked again with rapid question at the
other. Miss Alicia saw the exchange of glances and, so to speak, broke
down under the pressure of their unconcealed anxiety. The last few
weeks with their suggestion of accusation too vague to be met had been
too much for her.
"I am afraid--I feel sure you know something I do not," she began. "I
am most anxious and unhappy. I have not liked to ask questions,
because that would have seemed to imply a doubt of Mr. Temple Barholm.
I have even remained at home because I did not wish to hear things I
could not understand. I do not know what has been said. Pearson, in
whom I have the greatest confidence, felt that Mr. Temple Barholm
would prefer that I should wait until he returned."
"Do you think he will return?" said Mr. Grimby, amazedly.
"Oh!" the gentle creature ejaculated. "Can you possibly think he will
not? Why? Why?"
Mr. Palford had shared his partner's amazement. It was obvious that
she was as ignorant as a babe of the details of Palliser's
extraordinary story. In her affectionate consideration for Temple
Barholm she had actually shut herself up lest she should hear anything
said against him which she could not refute. She stood innocently
obedient to his wishes, like the boy upon the burning deck, awaiting
his return and his version of whatsoever he had been accused of. There
was something delicately heroic in the little, slender old thing, with
her troubled eyes and her cap and her quivering sideringlets.
"You," she appealed, "are his legal advisers, and will be able to tell
me if there is anything he would wish me to know. I could not allow
myself to listen to villagers or servants; but I may ask you."
"We are far from knowing as much as we desire to know," Mr. Palford
replied.
"We came here, in fact," added Grimby, "to ask questions of you, Miss
Temple Barholm."
"The fact that Miss Temple Barholm has not allowed herself to be
prejudiced by village gossip, which is invariably largely unreliable,
will make her an excellent witness," Mr. Palford said to his partner,
with a deliberation which held suggestive significance. Each man, in
fact, had suddenly realized that her ignorance would leave her
absolutely unbiased in her answers to any questions they might put,
and that it was much better in cross-examining an emotional elderly
lady that such should be the case.
"Witness!" Miss Alicia found the word alarming. Mr. Palford's bow was
apologetically palliative.
"A mere figure of speech, madam," he said.
"I really know so little every one else doesn't know." Miss Alicia's
protest had a touch of bewilderment in it. What could they wish to ask
her?
"But, as we understand it, your relations with Mr. Temple Barholm were
most affectionate and confidential."
"We were very fond of each other," she answered.
"For that reason he no doubt talked to you more freely than to other
people," Mr. Grimby put it. "Perhaps, Palford, it would be as well to
explain to Miss Temple Barholm that a curious feature of this matter
is that it--in a way--involves certain points concerning the late Mr.
Temple Barholm."
Miss Alicia uttered a pathetic exclamation.
"Poor Jem--who died so cruelly!"
Mr. Palford bent his head in acquiescence.
"Perhaps you can tell me what the present Mr. Temple Barholm knew of
him--how much he knew?"
"I told him the whole story the first time we took tea together," Miss
Alicia replied; and, between her recollection of that strangely happy
afternoon and her wonder at its connection with the present moment,
she began to feel timid and uncertain.
"How did it seem to impress him?"
She remembered it all so well--his queer, dear New York way of
expressing his warm-hearted indignation at the cruelty of what had
happened.
"Oh, he was very much excited. He was so sorry for him. He wanted to
know everything about him. He asked me what he looked like."
"Oh!" said Palford. "He wanted to know that?"
"He was so full of sympathy," she replied, her explanation gaining
warmth. "When I told him that the picture of Miles Hugo in the gallery
was said to look like Jem as a boy, he wanted very much to see it.
Afterward we went and saw it together. I shall always remember how he
stood and looked at it. Most young men would not have cared. But he
always had such a touching interest in poor Jem."
"You mean that he asked questions about him--about his death, and so
forth?" was Mr. Palford's inquiry.
"About all that concerned him. He was interested especially in his
looks and manner of speaking and personality, so to speak. And in the
awful accident which ended his life, though he would not let me talk
about that after he had asked his first questions."
"What kind of questions?" suggested Grimby.
"Only about what was known of the time and place, and how the sad
story reached England. It used to touch me to think that the only
person who seemed to care was the one who --might have been expected
to be almost glad the tragic thing had happened. But he was not."
Mr. Palford watched Mr. Grimby, and Mr. Grimby gave more than one
dubious and distressed glance at Palford.
"His interest was evident," remarked Palford, thoughtfully. "And
unusual under the circumstances."
For a moment he hesitated, then put another question: "Did he ever
seem--I should say, do you remember any occasion when he appeared to
think that--there might be any reason to doubt that Mr. James Temple
Barholm was one of the men who died in the Klondike?"
He felt that through this wild questioning they had at least reached a
certain testimony supporting Captain Palliser's views; and his
interest reluctantly increased. It was reluctant because there could
be no shadow of a question that this innocent spinster lady told the
absolute truth; and, this being the case, one seemed to be dragged to
the verge of depths which must inevitably be explored. Miss Alicia's
expression was that of one who conscientiously searched memory.
"I do not remember that he really expressed doubt," she answered,
carefully. "Not exactly that, but--"
"But what?" prompted Palford as she hesitated. "Please try to recall
exactly what he said. It is most important."
The fact that his manner was almost eager, and that eagerness was not
his habit, made her catch her breath and look more questioning and
puzzled than before.
"One day he came to my sitting-room when he seemed rather excited,"
she explained. "He had been with Mr. Strangeways, who had been worse
than usual. Perhaps he wanted to distract himself and forget about it.
He asked me questions and talked about poor Jem for about an hour. And
at last he said, `Do you suppose there's any sort of chance that it
mightn't be true--that story that came from the Klondike?' He said it
so thoughtfully that I was startled and said, `Do you think there
could be such a chance--do you?' And he drew a long breath and
answered, `You want to be sure about things like that; you've got to
be sure.' I was a little excited, so he changed the subject very soon
afterward, and I never felt quite certain of what he was really
thinking. You see what he said was not so much an expression of doubt
as a sort of question."
A touch of the lofty condemnatory made Mr. Palford impressive.
"I am compelled to admit that I fear that it was a question of which
he had already guessed the answer," he said.
At this point Miss Alicia clasped her hands quite tightly together
upon her knees.
"If you please," she exclaimed, "I must ask you to make things a
little clear to me. What dreadful thing has happened? I will regard
any communication as a most sacred confidence."
"I think we may as well, Palford?" Mr. Grimby suggested to his
partner.
"Yes," Palford acquiesced. He felt the difficulty of a blank
explanation. "We are involved in a most trying position," he said. "We
feel that great discretion must be used until we have reached more
definite certainty. An extraordinary--in fact, a startling thing has
occurred. We are beginning, as a result of cumulative evidence, to
feel that there was reason to believe that the Klondike story was to
be doubted--"
"That poor Jem--!" cried Miss Alicia.
"One begins to be gravely uncertain as to whether he has not been in
this house for months, whether he was not the mysterious Mr.
Strangeways!"
"Jem! Jem!" gasped poor little Miss Temple Barholm, quite white with
shock.
"And if he was the mysterious Strangeways," Mr. Grimby assisted to
shorten the matter, "the American Temple Barholm apparently knew the
fact, brought him here for that reason, and for the same reason kept
him secreted and under restraint."
"No! No!" cried Miss Alicia. "Never! Never! I beg you not to say such
a thing. Excuse me--I cannot listen! It would be wrong--ungrateful.
Excuse me!" She got up from her seat, trembling with actual anger in
her sense of outrage. It was a remarkable thing to see the small,
elderly creature angry, but this remarkable thing had happened. It was
as though she were a mother defending her young.
"I loved poor Jem and I love Temple, and, though I am only a woman who
never has been the least clever, I know them both. I know neither of
them could lie or do a wicked, cunning thing. Temple is the soul of
honor."
It was quite an inspirational outburst. She had never before in her
life said so much at one time. Of course tears began to stream down
her face, while Mr. Palford and Mr. Grimby gazed at her in great
embarrassment.
"If Mr. Strangeways was poor Jem come back alive, Temple did not know-
-he never knew. All he did for him was done for kindness' sake. I--I--
" It was inevitable that she should stammer before going to this
length of violence, and that the words should burst from her: "I would
swear it!"
It was really a shock to both Palford and Grimby. That a lady of Miss
Temple Barholm's age and training should volunteer to swear to a thing
was almost alarming. It was also in rather unpleasing taste.
"Captain Palliser obliged Mr. Temple Temple Barholm to confess that he
had known for some time," Mr. Palford said with cold regret. "He also
informed him that he should communicate with us without delay."
"Captain Palliser is a bad man." Miss Alicia choked back a gasp to
make the protest.
"It was after their interview that Mr. Temple Barholm almost
immediately left the house."
"Without any explanation whatever," added Grimby.
"He left a few lines for me," defended Miss Alicia.
"We have not seen them." Mr. Palford was still as well as cold. Poor
little Miss Alicia took them out of her pocket with an unsteady hand.
They were always with her, and she could not on such a challenge seem
afraid to allow them to be read. Mr. Palford took them from her with a
slight bow of thanks. He adjusted his glasses and read aloud, with
pauses between phrases which seemed somewhat to puzzle him.
"Dear little Miss Alicia:
"I've got to light out of here as quick as I can make it. I can't even
stop to tell you why. There's just one thing--don't get rattled, Miss
Alicia. Whatever any one says or does, don't get rattled.
"Yours affectionately,
"T. TEMBAROM."
There was a silence, Mr. Palford passed the paper to his partner, who
gave it careful study. Afterward he refolded it and handed it back to
Miss Alicia.
"In a court of law," was Mr. Palford's sole remark, "it would not be
regarded as evidence for the defendant."
Miss Alicia's tears were still streaming, but she held her ringleted
head well up.
"I cannot stay! I beg your pardon, I do indeed!" she said. "But I must
leave you. You see," she added, with her fine little touch of dignity,
"as yet this house is still Mr. Temple Barholm's home, and I am the
grateful recipient of his bounty. Burrill will attend you and make you
quite comfortable." With an obeisance which was like a slight curtsey,
she turned and fled.
In less than an hour she walked up the neat bricked path, and old Mrs.
Hutchinson, looking out, saw her through the tiers of flower-pots in
the window. Hutchinson himself was in London, but Ann was reading at
the other side of the room.
"Here's poor little owd Miss Temple Barholm aw in a flutter," remarked
her grandmother. "Tha's got some work cut out for thee if tha's going
to quiet her. Oppen th' door, lass."
Ann opened the door, and stood by it with calm though welcoming
dimples.
"Miss Hutchinson "--Miss Alicia began all at once to realize that they
did not know each other, and that she had flown to the refuge of her
youth without being at all aware of what she was about to say. "Oh!
Little Ann!" she broke down with frank tears. "My poor boy! My poor
boy!"
Little Ann drew her inside and closed the door.
"There, Miss Temple Barholm," she said. "There now Just come in and
sit down. I'll get you a good cup of tea. You need one."
