CHAPTER XXIII.
LESLIE'S STORY.
"I shall not weary you with a long story," began Leslie Warburton; "thisis not the time for it, and I am not in the mood. My husband lies aboveus, hopelessly ill. My little step-daughter is lost, and in Heaven onlyknows what danger. My brother-in-law is a hunted man, accused of themost atrocious of crimes. And I feel that I am the unhappy cause of allthese calamities. If I have erred, I am doubly punished. Let me give youthe bare facts, Mr. Stanhope; such details as you may wish can besupplied hereafter.
"I am, as you have been told, the adopted child of Thomas Uliman, of thelate firm of Uliman & French. Until his death, I had supposed myself tobe his own child. During the last year of my adopted father's life, itwas his dearest wish that I should marry his friend, ArchibaldWarburton, and we became affianced. After the death of my adoptedfather, Mr. Warburton urged a speedy marriage, and we fixed a day forthe ceremony.
"Less than a week later, it became necessary to overlook my father'spapers, in the search for some missing document. After looking throughhis secretary, and examining a great many papers without finding the onefor which I searched, I remembered that my mother's desk contained manypapers. As the missing document referred to some property held by themjointly, I made a search there. She had been dead for more than a year,and all her keys were in my possession, but until that day I had neverhad the courage to approach her desk.
"Searching among her papers, I found one which had never been intendedfor my eyes. It was folded tightly, and crowded into a tiny space behinda little drawer. My mother's death was quite sudden; had she died of alingering sickness, the paper would doubtless have been destroyed, forit furnished proof that I was not the child of Thomas Uliman and hiswife, Mathilde, but an adopted daughter, while I was represented in thewill as their only child. The paper I found was in my father's writing,and by it, Franz Francoise and his wife, Martha--"
"What!" The exclamation fell involuntarily from Stanhope's lips. Thenchecking himself, he said quietly: "I beg your pardon; proceed."
"Franz Francoise and his wife, Martha, by this paper resigned all claimto the child, Leschen, for a pecuniary consideration. The child was tobe rechristened Leslie Uliman, and legally adopted by the Ulimans, thetwo Francoises agreeing never to approach or claim her.
"Imagine my consternation and grief! With this paper in my hand, I wentstraight to Mr. Follingsbee. He had known the truth from the first, butassured me that the Ulimans had never intended that I should learn it. Ihad been legally adopted, and the little fortune they had left me waslawfully mine.
"Then I told the story to my intended husband, and, knowing his pride,offered him a release. He only laughed at my Quixotism, and hastened themarriage preparations, bidding me never, under any circumstances, alludeto the subject again. Soon after that, I was approached by theFrancoises--you have seen them?" lifting her eyes to his face.
"Yes."
"Then I need not tell you the miseries of my various interviews withthem. They had learned that I was alone in the world, and they came toclaim me; I was their child. Holding, as I did, the proofs of adoption,many women would have accepted their claim; I could not. My soul arosein revolt; every throb of my heart beat against them. If nature's voiceever speaks, it spoke in me against their claim. Not against their age,their poverty, or their ignorance; but against the greed, theselfishness, the vileness that was too much a part of them to remainhidden. Sooner than acknowledge their claim, I would have died by my ownhand. They wanted money, and with that I purchased a respite. Then mygreat temptation came.
"Archibald Warburton had bidden me never to speak again on the subjectof my parentage--why not take him at his word? If I broke off mymarriage with him, I must give a reason; and the true reason I wouldnever give. Not even to Mr. Follingsbee would I tell the truth. I keptmy secret; and after much hesitation, the Francoises accepted the largershare of my little fortune, and swore never to approach me again,--toleave the city forever. I believed myself safe then, and married Mr.Warburton.
"The rest you can guess. Finding that I had married a wealthy man,disregarding their oaths, the Francoises came back, and renewed theirpersecutions. And I was more than ever in their power. They forced me tovisit them when they would. Their demands for money increased. I grewdesperate at last, and on the night of the masquerade, I went inobedience to an imperative summons, resolved that it should be the lasttime."
She paused here and looked, for the first time since the beginning ofher recital, straight into the face of the detective, who, sitting withhis body bent forward and his eyes fixed upon her, seemed yet to belistening after her words had ceased, so intent was his gaze, soabsorbed his manner.
Thus a moment of silence passed. Then Stanhope, withdrawing his eyes,and leaning back in his seat, asked suddenly:
"Is that all?"
"It is not all, Mr. Stanhope. On the night of the masquerade, while Iwas absent from the house no doubt, my little step-daughterdisappeared."
"I know."
"You have heard it, of course. I believe that I know why, and by whom,she was abducted."
"Ah!"
"I suspect the Francoises."
"Why?"
"I love the child, and they know it. She will be another weapon in theirhands. Besides, if I cannot, or will not reclaim her, there is thereward."
Richard Stanhope leaned forward, and slightly lifted his right hand.
"Is there any one else who would be benefited by the death ordisappearance of the child?" he asked.
Leslie started, and the hot blood rushed to her face.
"I--I don't understand," she faltered.
"Do you know the purport of your husband's will."
"Yes."
"How does he dispose of his large property?"
"One third to me; the rest to little Daisy."
"And his brother?"
"Alan possesses an independent fortune."
"Are there no contingencies?"
"In case of my death, all comes to Daisy, Alan becoming her guardian. Incase of Daisy's death, Alan and I share equally."
"Then by the loss of this child, both you and the young man becomericher."
"Ah!" she gasped, "I had never thought of _that_!"
"Mrs. Warburton, beginning at the moment when you left this house tovisit the Francoises, will you tell me all that transpired, up to thetime of your escape from their house?"
With cheeks flushing and paling, and voice tremulous with the excitementof some new, strange thought, she described to him the scene in theFrancoises' house.
"So," thought Stanhope, when all was told, "Mr. Alan Warburton'spresence at that special moment was strangely opportune. Why was hethere? What does he know of the Francoises? The plot thickens, and Iwould not be in Alan Warburton's shoes for all the Warburton wealth."
But, aloud, he only said:
"Thanks, Mrs. Warburton. If you are correct in your suspicions, and theFrancoises have stolen the child, they will approach you sooner orlater. Should they do so, make no terms with them, but communicate withme at once."
"By letter?"
"No; through the morning papers. Use this form."
Taking from his pocket a note-book, he wrote upon a leaf a few words,tore it from the book, and put it into her hand.
"That is safer than a letter," he said, rising. "One word more, madam.Tell Alan Warburton to be doubly guarded against Van Vernet. His dangerincreases at every step. Now we will call Mr. Follingsbee."
"One moment, Mr. Stanhope. Alan has employed detectives to search forDaisy, but none of them know what you know. Will _you_ find her for me?"She held out her hands appealingly.
The detective looked at her in silence for a moment, then, stridingforward, he took the outstretched hands in both his own, and gazing downinto her face said, gently:
"I will serve you to the extent of my power, dear lady. I will find thelittle one, if I can."
Mr. Follingsbee had passed his hour of waiting in the mos
t comfortablemanner possible, fast asleep in a big lounging-chair. Being aroused, hedeparted with Stanhope, manifesting no curiosity concerning the outcomeof the detective's visit.
While their footsteps yet lingered on the outer threshold, Winnie Frenchcame flying down the stairway.
"Come quick!" she cried to Leslie. "Archibald is worse; he is dying!"
* * * * *
"I will serve you to the extent of my power," Richard Stanhope had said,holding Leslie Warburton's hands in his, and looking straight into herappealing eyes. "I will find the little one, if I can."
Nevertheless he went straight to the Agency, and, standing before hisChief, said:
"I am ready to begin work for Mr. Parks, sir. I shall quit the Agencyto-day. Give Vernet my compliments, and tell him I wish him success. Itmay be a matter of days, weeks, or months, but you will not see me hereagain until I can tell you _who killed Arthur Pearson_."