CHAPTER XII

  THE APPROACH OF A MAN NAMED SMITH

  Mr. Redmond Wrandall, grey and gaunt and somewhat wistful, rodeslowly through the leafy lane, attended some little distance behindby Griggs the groom, who slumped in the saddle and thought only ofthe sylvan dell to curse it with poetic license. (Ever since Mr.Wrandall had been thrown by his horse in the Park a few yearsbefore his wife had insisted on having a groom handy in case he losthis seat again: hence Griggs.) It sometimes got on Mr. Wrandall'snerves, having Griggs lopping along like that, but there didn'tseem to be any way out of it, nor was there the remotest likelihoodthat the groom himself might one day be spilled and broken in manyplaces while engaged in this obnoxious espionage.

  Mr. Wrandall was grey because he was old, he was gaunt because hewas old, and he usually was somewhat wistful for the same reason.He nourished the lament that he had grown old before his time,despite the sixty odd years that lay behind him. He was alwaysa trifle annoyed with himself for not having demanded more ofhis youth. Griggs, therefore, was a physical insult, any way youlooked at him: his very presence in the road behind was a blatant,house-top sort of proclamation that he, Redmond Wrandall, was inhis dotage, and that was something Mr. Wrandall would never haveadmitted if he had had anything to say about it.

  To-day he was riding over to Southlook to visit his daughter-in-lawand one whom he looked upon as a prospective daughter-in-law. Itwas Wednesday and the family had been in the country since Monday.His wife and Vivian had motored over on Tuesday. They were lettingno grass grow under their feet, notwithstanding a sudden andunexplained period of procrastination on the part of Leslie, whohad gone off for a fortnight's fishing in Maine. Moreover, so faras they knew, he had departed without proposing to Miss Castleton:an oversight which deprived his mother of at least two weeks ofactivity along obvious lines. Naturally, it was quite impossibleto discuss the future with Miss Castleton under the circumstances,and it was equally out of the question to discuss it with securityin the very constricted circle that Mrs. Wrandall affected in thecountry. It really was too bad of Leslie! He should have knownbetter.

  Half way to Southlook, Mr. Wrandall, turning a bend in the road,caught sight of two people walking some distance ahead: a man anda woman. They were several hundred yards away, and travelling inthe direction he was going. He pulled his horse down to a walk, acircumstance that for the moment escaped the attention of Griggs,who rode alongside before he quite realised what had happened.

  "Griggs," said his master, staring at the pedestrians, "when didmy son return?"

  Griggs grasped the situation at a glance--a rather vague and imperfectglance, however. "This morning, sir," he replied promptly, althoughhe was as much at sea as his master.

  "I understood Mrs. Wrandall to say he was not expected beforeSaturday."

  "Yes, sir. He came unexpected, sir."

  "Well," said Mr. Wrandall, with an indulgent smile, "we will notride them down."

  "No, indeed, sir," consented Griggs, with a wink that Mr. Wrandalldid not see.

  The pleased, satisfied smile grew on Redmond Wrandall's gaunt oldface: not reminiscent, I am bound to say, yet reflective.

  The tall young man and the girl far ahead apparently were not awareof the scrutiny. They appeared to be completely absorbed in eachother. At last, coming to a footpath diverging from the macadam, theystopped and parleyed. Then they turned into this narrow, tortuouspath over the hillside and were lost to view.

  Mr. Wrandall's smile broadened as he touched his horse lightlywith the crop. Coming to the obscure little bypath, he shot asurreptitious glance into the fastnesses of the wood, but did notslacken his speed. No one was in sight.

  "I dare say the danger is past, Griggs," he said humorously. "Theyare safe."

  "I believe you, sir," said Griggs, also forgetting himself so faras to steal a look over his right shoulder.

  It was Mr. Wrandall's design to ride on to Southlook and surpriseLeslie and his inamorata at the lodge gates, where he would waitfor them. Arriving there, he dismounted and turned his steed overto Griggs, with instructions to ride on. He would join Mr. Leslieand Miss Castleton and walk with them for the remainder of thedistance.

  He sat down on the rustic bench and lighted a cigar. The lodge-keepersaluted him from the garden below. Later the keeper's small soncame up and from the opposite side of the roadway regarded him withthe wide, curious gaze of a four-year-old. Mr. Wrandall dislikedchildren. He made no friendly overtures. The child stood hisground, which was in a sense disconcerting, although he couldn'ttell why. He felt like saying "shoo!" Presently the keeper's colliecame up and sniffed his puttees, all the while looking askance.Mr. Wrandall said: "Away with you," and the dog retreated with somedignity to the steps where he laid down and fixed his eyes on thestranger.

  Half-an-hour passed. Mr. Wrandall frowned as he looked at his watch.Another quarter of an hour went by. He changed his position, andthe dog lifted his head, without wagging his tail.

  "'Pon my soul," said Mr. Wrandall in some annoyance.

  Just then the dog and the child deflected their common stare. Hewas at first grateful, then interested. The child was beaming, thedog's tail was thumping a merry tattoo on the wooden step. Footstepscrunched on the gravel and he turned to look, although it was notthe direction from which he expected his son and Miss Castleton.

  He came to his feet, plainly perplexed. Miss Castleton approached,but the fellow beside her was not Leslie.

  "How are you, Mr. Wrandall?" called out the young man cheerily,crossing the road.

  "Good afternoon, Brandon," said Mr. Wrandall, nonplussed. "How doyou do, Miss Castleton? Delighted to see you looking so well. Wheredid you leave my son?"

  "Haven't seen him," said Booth. "Is he back?"

  Mr. Redmond Wrandall swallowed hard.

  "I was so informed," he replied, with an effort.

  "Are you not coming up to the house, Mr. Wrandall?" inquired MissCastleton, and he thought he detected a note of appeal in her voice.

  "Certainly," he announced, taking his place beside her. To himselfhe was saying: "This young blade has been annoying her, confoundhim."

  "Miss Castleton had a note from Leslie this morning, saying hewouldn't start home till Friday," said Booth, puzzled. "You don'tmind my saying so, Miss Castleton?"

  "Not at all. I am sure he said Friday."

  "I fancy he did say Friday," said Mr. Wrandall. "I think Griggshad been drinking."

  "Griggs?" inquired the two in unison.

  He volunteered no more than that. He was too busily engaged in wonderingwhat his son could be thinking of, to leave this delightful girlto the tender mercies of a handsome, fascinating chap like BrandonBooth. He didn't relish the look of things. She was agitated,suspiciously so; and Booth wasn't what one would describe as perfectlyat ease. There was something in the air, concluded Leslie's father.

  "I hear you are coming over to spend a fortnight with us, MissCastleton," said he pleasantly.

  Hetty started. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Wrandall," she said, althoughhe had spoken very distinctly.

  "Leslie mentioned it a--oh, some time ago, my dear. This is thefirst time I have seen you, otherwise I should have added my warmestappeal for you to come early and to stay late. Ha-ha! Hope you willfind your way to our place, Brandon. You are always a most welcomevisitor."

  The girl walked on in silence, her lips set with curious firmness.Booth looked at her and indulged in a queer little smile, to whichshe responded with a painful flush.

  "Vivian expects to have a few friends out at the same time--veryquietly, you know, and without much of a hurrah. Young ladies youought to know in New York, my dear Miss Castleton. I dare say youwill remember all of them, Brandon."

  "I dare say," said Booth, without interest.

  "I understand the portrait is finished," went on the old gentleman,blissfully oblivious to the disturbance he had created. "Mrs.Wrandall says it is wonderful, Brandon. You won't mind showing itto me? I am very much interested."


  "Glad to have you see it, sir."

  "Thanks."

  He slackened his pace, an uneasy frown appearing between his eyes.

  "I am almost afraid to tell Sara the news we have had from townthis morning. She is so opposed to notoriety and all that sort ofthing. Poor girl, she's had enough to drive one mad, I fear, withall that wretched business of a year ago."

  Hetty stopped in her tracks. She went very white.

  "What news, Mr. Wrandall?"

  "They say they have stumbled upon a clew,--an absolutely indisputableclew. Smith had me on the wire this morning. He is the chief operative,you understand, Miss Castleton. He informs me that his originaltheory is quite fully substantiated by this recent discovery. Ifyou remember, he gave it as his opinion a year ago that the womanwas not--er--I may say, of the class catalogued as fast. He iscoming out to-morrow to see me."

  Things went suddenly black before her eyes, but in an instant sheregained control of herself.

  "They have had many clews, Mr. Wrandall," she complained, shakingher head.

  "I know," he replied; "and this one may be as futile as the rest.Smith appears to be absolutely certain this time, however."

  "I understood that Mrs. Wrandall--I mean Mrs. Challis Wrandall--refusedto offer a reward," said Booth. "These big detective agencies arenot keen about--"

  "There is a ten thousand dollar reward still standing, Brandon,"said Mr. Wrandall.

  Again the girl started.

  "That isn't generally known, sir," observed the painter. "Leslietold me there was no reward."

  "It was privately arranged," explained Leslie's father.

  They came in sight of the house at that moment, and the subjectwas dropped, for Sara was approaching them in earnest conversationwith Mr. Carroll, her lawyer.

  They met at the edge of the lower basin, where the waters trickleddown from an imposing Italian fountain on the level above, forminga deep, clear pool to which the lofty sky lent unfathomable depths.To the left of the basin there was a small tea-house, snug in theshadow of the cypresses that lined the crest of the hill. A seriesof rough stone steps wound down to the water's edge and the boathouse.

  "Mr. Carroll is the bearer of startling news, Mr. Wrandall," saidSara, after the greetings. There was a trace of the sardonic inher voice.

  "Indeed?" said Mr. Wrandall gravely.

  "I was not aware, sir," said the old lawyer stiffly, and with apositive glare, "that your detectives were such unmitigated assesas they now appear to be."

  "I fail to understand, Mr. Carroll," with considerable loftiness.

  "That confounded rascal Smith called to see me this morning, sir.He is a rogue, sir. He--"

  "I beg your pardon, Mr. Carroll," protested Mr. Wrandall, in a farfrom conciliatory manner.

  "It seems, in short, that he has been working on a very intimateclew," said Sara, staring fixedly at her father-in-law's face.

  "So he informed me over the 'phone this morning," said he, rathertaken a-back. "However, he did not go into the details. I am here,Sara, to tell you that he is coming out to-morrow. I want to askyou to come over to my place at--"

  "That is out of the question, sir," exclaimed Mr. Carroll vehemently.

  "My dear Mr. Carroll--" began Wrandall angrily, but Sara interruptedhim to suggest that they talk it over in the tea-house. She wouldring for tea.

  "If you will excuse me, Mrs. Wrandall, I think I will be off," saidBooth.

  "Please stay, Mr. Booth," she urged. "I would like to have youhere."

  She fell behind with Hetty. The girl's eyes were glassy.

  "Don't be alarmed," she whispered.

  Booth pressed the button for her. "Thank you. You will be surprised,Mr. Wrandall, to hear that the new clew leads to a member of yourown family."

  Mr. Wrandall was in the act of sitting down. At her words he dropped.His eyes bulged.

  "Good God!"

  "It appears that Mr. Smith suspects--ME!" said she coolly.

  Her father-in-law's lips moved, but no sound issued. His face waslivid.

  "The stupid fool!" hissed the irate Mr. Carroll.

  There was deathly silence for a moment following this outburst.Every face was pale. In Hetty's there was an expression of utterhorror. Her lips too were moving.

  "He has, it seems, put one thing and another together, as if itwere a picture puzzle," went on Sara. "His visit to Mr. Carrollthis morning was for the purpose of ascertaining how much it wouldbe worth to me if he dropped the case--NOW."

  "The infernal blackmailer!" gasped Mr. Wrandall, finding his voice."I will have him kicked off the place if he comes to me with--Mydear, my dear! You cannot mean what you say."

  He was in a shocking state of bewilderment.

  "I'd advise you to call off your infernal blackmailer, Mr. RedmondWrandall," snarled Mr. Carroll, pacing back and forth.

  "My dear sir," stammered the other, "I--I--do you mean to implythat I know anything about this infamous business?"

  "He is your dog, not ours," declared the lawyer, pacing the brickfloor.

  "Peace, gentlemen," admonished Sara. "Let us discuss it calmly."

  "Calmly?" gasped Mr. Wrandall.

  "Calmly!" snapped the lawyer.

  "At least deliberately. It appears, Mr. Wrandall, that Smith hasbeen working on the theory all along that it was I who went to theinn with Challis. You recall the description given of the woman? Shewas of my size and figure, they said at the time. Well, he has--"

  "It is infamous!" shouted Mr. Wrandall, springing to his feet."He shall hear from me to-night. I shall have him lodged in jailbefore--"

  "You will do nothing of the sort," interrupted Sara firmly. "I thinkyou will do well to hear his side of the story. And remember, sir,that it would be very difficult for me to establish an alibi."

  "Bless me!" groaned the old man. Then his eyes brightened. "ButMiss Castleton can prove that for you, my dear. Don't forget MissCastleton."

  "Miss Castleton did not come to me, you should remember, until afterthe--the trouble. It occurred the second night after my arrivalfrom Europe. Mr. Smith has discovered that I was not in my roomsat the hotel that night."

  "You were not?" fell from Mr. Wrandall's lips. "Where were you?"

  "I spent the night in our apartment--alone." She shivered as witha chill as she uttered these words.

  "What!"

  "Leslie met me at the dock. He said that Challis had gone awayfrom town for a day or two. The next day I telephoned to the garageand asked them to send the big car to me as I wanted to make somecalls. They said that Mr. Wrandall had discharged the chauffeura week or two before and had been using my little French runaboutfor a few days, driving it himself. I then instructed them to sendthe runabout around with one of their own drivers. You can imaginemy surprise when I was told that Mr. Wrandall had taken the carout that morning and had not returned with it."

  "I see," said Mr. Wrandall, beads of perspiration standing on hisforehead.

  "He had not left town. I will not try to describe my feelings. Latein the afternoon, I called them up again. He had not returned. Itwas then that I thought of going to the apartment, which had beenclosed all winter. Watson and his wife were to go in the next dayby my instructions. Challis had been living at a club, I believe.Somehow, I had the feeling that during the night my husband wouldcome to the apartment--perhaps not alone. You understand. I wentthere and waited all night. That is the story. Of course, it is knownthat I did not spend the night at the hotel. Mr. Smith evidentlyhas learned as much. It is on this circumstance that he bases hisbelief."

  Booth was leaning forward, breathless with interest.

  "May I enquire, Mr. Carroll, how the clever Mr. Smith accounts forthe secrecy observed by Mr. Wrandall and his companion, if, as heproclaims, you were the woman? Is it probable that husband and wifewould have been so mysterious?"

  Mr. Carroll answered. "He is rather ingenious as to that, Mr.Booth. You must understand that he does not specifically chargemy cli--Mrs. Wr
andall with the murder of her husband. He merelyarranges his theories so that they may be applied to her witha reasonable degree of assurance. He only goes this far in hisdeductions: If, as he has gleaned, Challis Wrandall was engagedin an illicit--er--we'll say distraction--with some one unknown toSara his wife, what could be more spectacular than her discoveryof the fact and the subsequently inspired decision to lay a trapfor him? Of course, it is perfect nonsense, but it is the way hegoes about it. It has been established beyond a doubt that Wrandallmet the woman at a station four miles down the line from Burton'sInn. She came out on one of the local trains, got off at thisstation as prearranged, and found him waiting for her. Two men,you will recall, testified to that effect at the inquest sixteenmonths ago. She was heavily veiled. She got in the motor and droveoff with him. This was at half past eight o'clock in the evening.Smith makes this astounding guess; the woman instead of being theperson expected, was in reality his wife, who had by some meansintercepted a letter. Our speculative friend Smith is not preparedto suggest an arrest on these flimsy claims, but he believes it tobe worth Mrs. Wrandall's while to have the case permanently closed,rather than allow these nasty conclusions to get abroad. They wouldspread like wildfire. Do you see what I mean?"

  "It is abominable!" cried Hetty, standing before them with flashingeyes. "I KNOW she did not--"

  "Hetty, my dear!" cried Sara sharply.

  The girl looked at her for a moment in a frenzied way, and thenturned aside, biting her lips to keep back the actual confessionthat had rushed up to them.

  "It is blackmail," repeated Mr. Wrandall miserably.

  "In the most diabolical form," augmented Carroll. "The worst of itis, Wrandall, we can't stop his tongue unless we fairly choke himwith greenbacks. All he has to do is to give the confounded yellowjournals an inkling of his suspicions, and the job is done. It seemsto be pretty well understood that the crime was not committed by aperson in the ordinary walks of life, but by one who is secure inthe protection of mighty influences. There are those who believethat his companion was one of the well-known and prominent youngmatrons in the city, many of whom were at one time or another interestedin him in a manner not at all complimentary. Smith suggests--mindyou, he merely suggests--that the person who was to have met Wrandallin the country that night was so highly connected that she doesnot dare reveal herself, although absolutely innocent of the crime.Or, it is possible on the other hand, he says, that she may considerherself extremely lucky in failing to keep her appointment andthereby alluring him to take up with another, after she had writtenthe letter breaking off the engagement,--said letter not havingbeen received by him because it had fallen into the hands of hiswife. Do you see? It is ingenious, isn't it?"

  "What is to be done?" groaned Mr. Wrandall, in a state of collapse.He was sitting limply back in the chair, crumpled to the chin.

  "The sanest thing, I'd suggest," said Booth sarcastically, "is thecapture of the actual perpetrator of the deed."

  "But, confound them," growled Carroll, "they say they can't."

  "I shall withdraw my offer of reward," proclaimed the unhappyfather, struggling to his feet. "I never dreamed it could come tosuch a pass as this. You DO believe me, don't you, Sara, my child--mydaughter? God hear me, I never--"

  "Oh," said she cuttingly, "you, at least, are innocent, Mr.Wrandall."

  He looked at her rather sharply.

  "The confounded fellow is coming to see me to-morrow," he went onafter a moment of indecision. "I shall be obliged to telephone tothe city for my attorney to come out also. I don't believe in takingchances with these scoundrels. They--"

  "May I enquire, sir, why you entrusted the matter to a third ratedetective agency when there are such reputable concerns as thePinkertons or--" began Mr. Carroll bitingly.

  Mr. Wrandall held up his hand deprecatingly.

  "We had an idea that an unheard of agency might accomplish morethan one of the famous organisations."

  "Well, you see what has come of it," growled the other.

  "I was opposed to the reward, sir," declared Mr. Wrandall with someheat. "Not that I was content to give up the search, but because Ifelt sure that the guilty person would eventually reveal herself.They always do, sir. It is the fundamental principle of criminology.Soon or late they falter. My son Leslie is of a like opinion. Hehas declared all along that the mystery will be cleared up if weare quiescent. A guilty conscience takes its own way to relieveitself. If you keep prodding it with sharp sticks you encouragefear, and stealth, and all that sort of thing, without reallygetting anywhere in the end. Give a murderer a free rope and he'llhang himself, is my belief. Threaten him with that self-same rope,and he'll pay more attention to dread than to conscience, and yourends are defeated."

  Sara was inwardly nervous. She stole a glance at the white, emotionlessface of the girl across the table, and was filled with apprehension.

  "Can you be sure, Mr. Wrandall," she began earnestly, "that justiceisn't the antidote for the poisonous thing we call a conscience?Suppose this woman to have been fully justified in doing what shedid, does it follow that conscience can force her to admit, evento herself, that she is morally guilty of a crime against man? Idoubt it, sir."

  She was prepared for a subtle change in Hetty's countenance and wasnot surprised to see the light of hope steal back into her eyes.

  "Fully justified?" murmured the old gentleman painfully.

  "Perhaps we would better not go into that question too intimately,"suggested Mr. Carroll.

  "My son Leslie has peculiar views along the very line--" began Mr.Wrandall, in great distress of mind. He fell into a reflective moodand did not finish the sentence.

  "I shall see this man Smith," announced Sara calmly.

  Her father-in-law stood over her, his face working. "My dear,"he said, "I promise you this absurd business shall go no farther.Don't let it trouble you in the least. I will attend to Smith. Ifthere is no other way to check his vile insinuations, I will payhis price. You are not to be submitted to these dreadful--"

  She interrupted him. "You will do nothing of the kind, Mr. Wrandall,"she said levelly. "Do you want to convince him that I AM guilty?"

  "God in heaven, no!"

  "Then why pay him the reward you have offered for the person whois guilty?"

  "It is an entirely different propo--"

  "It amounts to the same thing, sir. He tells you he has discoveredthe woman you want and you fulfil your part of the bargain bypaying him for his services. That closes the transaction, so faras he is concerned. He goes his way fully convinced that he hasput his hands on the criminal, and then proceeds to wash them inprivate instead of in public. No. Let me see this man. I insist."

  "He will be at my place to-morrow at eleven," said Wrandallresignedly. "I wish Leslie were here. He is so level-headed."

  Sara laid her hand on his arm. He looked up and found her regardinghim rather fixedly.

  "It would be just as well as to keep this from Mrs. Wrandall andVivian," she said meaningly.

  "You are right, Sara. It would distress them beyond words."

  She smiled faintly. "May I enquire whether Mr. Smith is to reportto you or to Mrs. Wrandall?"

  He flushed. "My wife--er--made the arrangements with him, Sara," hesaid, but added quickly: "With my sanction, of course. He reportsto me. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, he advised meto say nothing to my wife until he had talked with me."

  "Inasmuch as he has already talked it over with me, through counsel,I don't see any reason why we should betray his gentle confidence,do you?"

  "I--I suppose not," said he uncomfortably.

  "Then, bring him here at eleven, Mr. Wrandall," said she serenely."He has already paved the way. I imagine he expects to find me athome. Put the things here, Watson."

  Watson had appeared with the tray. It being a very hot day, he didnot bring tea.