wilfrid walked slowly back to bloomsbury, his own affairs uppermost in his mind. his morning had not been wasted. he had found out several things likely to be of use to him, but, on the other hand, the time was so short that it seemed almost impossible to save the situation. there was an outside chance that his friend vardon might have been able to raise the money, but no information had come from him, and in such cases no news is bad news. the security had undoubtedly found its way into cotter's hands and no time would be lost in making use of the weapon. the mere thought was maddening. here was a man lying on his death-bed, yet ready to strike at another man, who, on two occasions had risked his life for him. it would have been better to allow those poisonous little easterns to have their own way and remove a scoundrel like flower altogether. still, there was a chance yet, and wilfrid meant to take advantage of it if he had the opportunity. he was not beaten.
beatrice's pale white face glancing wearily through the drawing-room window recalled him to himself. there was better news, on the whole, than wilfrid had expected. shelton's operation had been partially successful, and he and his colleague were waiting for wilfrid's return.
"you haven't very much to do," shelton explained. "the nurse i have chosen will be here at any moment and she will take your place. you will find certain medicines upstairs which you will know what to do with."
shelton departed hurriedly, after the manner of his kind, and wilfrid made his way to the sick room. beatrice followed him fearfully with a whispered request to be permitted to see how the injured man was, and wilfrid had not the heart to refuse.
"it must be only a moment, then," he said. "i have no right to have stayed here so long. i ought to have been back in oldborough hours ago. you must promise to be quiet and not speak a single word if i admit you into the sick room."
beatrice gave the assurance and they crept into the bedroom silently together. flower lay with his eyes wide open, gazing about the room in a strange, lack-lustre fashion. evidently he had not the remotest notion where he was or what was taking place around him. he murmured from time to time a medley of things in which the shrewdness of a man and the innocence of a child were curiously mingled. wilfrid seemed to hear sounds of some one moving in the dressing-room beyond, and he looked into the room, where he saw cotter in the act of placing some papers in a desk. flower's confidential clerk looked up guiltily as his glance met wilfrid's eye.
"what are you doing here?" wilfrid asked sternly. "don't you know that nobody but the doctor and the nurse are allowed here? and why are you tampering with those papers?"
"i am not," cotter stammered. "i swear i am not. i am only putting away a few documents which my master told me to fetch from the city this morning. i am very sorry, sir, but i won't come back again. is he better?"
wilfrid turned on his heel without reply. no sooner had cotter left the dressing-room than wilfrid was back in the bedroom intent on getting rid of beatrice also. it was useless for the girl to stay, for she could do nothing except stand there with eyes full of tears of pity and sorrow. wilfrid led her out to the landing.
"you must not come here again," he said. "i will leave directly the nurse arrives. i have to call upon a friend and then i must get back to oldborough without delay."
"is there any hope?" beatrice asked.
"i cannot say," wilfrid replied. "it may be days before we are sure of that, and whatever happens, remember that you are safe. these people who come and go in this mysterious fashion have no feeling against you. it is only your uncle who is the object of their vengeance."
"but, surely, the police ought to know," beatrice protested.
"i am not sure of that," wilfrid said. "if your uncle were well and we suggested calling the police, i am certain that he would oppose the idea strongly."
a little colour crept into beatrice's face.
"you speak so strangely," she said. "you hint at such dark things. do you know that all the years i have lived with my uncle i have never found him anything but the best of men? it is only latterly that this cloud has come between us. there was none of it until you came into my life again."
the words were quietly spoken, yet they stung wilfrid to the core.
"that is easily remedied," he said bitterly. "i can take myself out of your life as i brought myself into it. i could school myself to forget you in time. but do not forget that i have saved your uncle's life twice, though, in so doing, i have rendered a very doubtful service to humanity."
"what do you mean?" beatrice asked hotly.
wilfrid advanced a step or two closer and took the girl's hands in his. his face was grave and set.
"then i will tell you," he said. "samuel flower might have been even more to you than you say he has, but that does not prevent him from being a great scoundrel. you may bridle and colour, but i ask you to hear me to the finish. you may say, quite sincerely, you have never heard anything of this before. but if you could go amongst business men who knew nothing of your relationship to samuel flower, and ask them what they thought of him and his methods, you would learn some startling things. do you know that for over two years i was a servant of your uncle's on board one of his ships? have you ever heard him mention a boat called the guelder rose?"
"i have heard of it," beatrice murmured. "there was a mutiny on board and a great loss of life. it was a shameful thing altogether, and if my uncle had cared to bring the mutineers to justice most of them would have suffered long terms of imprisonment, but he refrained from doing so——"
"because he was afraid," wilfrid said sternly. "he dared not face the ordeal of a court of justice. i was the doctor on board that ill-fated boat and could tell you all about it. if i could only put my hand upon one other survivor, poor and friendless as i am, i would fight your uncle to the last gasp. i hesitated to come to maldon grange the day i was sent for, because i was afraid i might be recognized and have to pay the penalty of my interference in that mutiny. and i was recognized—i realized that almost as soon as i entered the house."
"my uncle said nothing to me," beatrice protested.
"oh, no, he would not," wilfrid said bitterly. "that is not the way in which he works, but he has lost no time in trying to ruin me. he lost no time in getting into communication with the people from whom i borrowed money to buy my practice. he bought the security i gave, and if the money is not forthcoming to-morrow, i shall be a ruined man without a house over my head. i daresay you wonder why i tell you this, but sooner or later you are bound to know, and if it happens that somebody else——"
what more wilfrid might have said was cut short by a sudden moan from the bedroom. without another word wilfrid turned and beatrice crept silently down the stairs.
it was only for a moment or two, however, and the patient lapsed into the absent stage again. the minutes were creeping along; the nurse would be here soon and wilfrid would be glad to turn his back upon that house of mystery. his mind was full of his own troubles; he found his thoughts wandering to the desk in the dressing-room where he had seen cotter arranging those papers. then it suddenly struck him that the security he was in search of was actually within his grasp. as far as he could see, cotter had not even turned the key in the desk. overwhelming curiosity drew wilfrid from his seat and impelled his lingering footsteps towards the dressing-room.
here was the desk with the key still in it. there was the heap of papers in the top drawer. a long, pale blue slip with a red stamp in the corner caught his eye. there was no occasion for him to ask what it was. he could see his own bold handwriting across it. here was the precious document that meant so much to him, so little for the man in the next room. he had only to tear it in two and throw the fragments in the fire and he would be free from all anxiety for ever. it was only for a moment, but that moment was long enough, for the dressing-room door stood open and the shadow of beatrice blocked the light.
"the nurse is here," she said coldly. her eyes were fixed upon the paper which wilfrid held in his hand. "i thought i would bring her this way. and now, dr. mercer, don't you think that we shall be able to dispense with your services?"
