CHAPTER XLIV.
MR. FOLLINGSBEE'S VICTORY.
When Alan Warburton reached the residence of Mr. Follingsbee, he foundthat legal gentleman sitting alone in his cosy library, very much, soAlan thought, as if expecting him. And the first words that the lawyeruttered confirmed this opinion.
Rising quickly, Mr. Follingsbee came forward to meet his guest, sayingbriskly:
"Ah, Warburton, good evening. I've been expecting you; sit down, sitdown."
As Alan placed his hat upon the table beside him, and took the seatindicated, he said, with a well-bred stare of surprise:
"You expected me, Mr. Follingsbee? Then possibly you know my errand?"
"Well, yes; in part, at least." The lawyer took up a folded note, andpassed it across the table to his visitor, saying: "It was left in mycare about two hours ago."
Alan glanced up at him quickly, and then turned his attention to theperusal of the note. It ran thus:
ALAN WARBURTON:
The time has come, or will soon come, when Mrs. W--will find it necessary to confide her troubles to Mr. Follingsbee. The time is also near when you will have to fight Van Vernet face to face. You will do well to trust your case to Mr. Follingsbee, relying upon him in every particular. You will have to meet strategy with strategy, if you would outwit Vernet.
A FRIEND.
Alan perused this slowly, noting that the handwriting was identical withthat of the scrap left by the "organ-grinder," and then he refolded it,saying:
"I am the bearer of a missive for you, Mr. Follingsbee; but first, letme ask if I may know who sent me this message?"
"It was left in my hands," replied the lawyer, smiling slightly, "by--bya person with ragged garments, and a dirty face. He appeared to be adeaf mute, and looked like--"
"Like an organ-grinder minus his organ?" finished Alan.
"Just so."
"I trust that _this_ will explain itself," said Alan, drawing forth froman inner pocket Leslie's letter, and giving it into the lawyer's hand."Read it, Mr. Follingsbee. This day has been steeped in mystery; let usclear away such clouds as we can."
"From Leslie!" Mr. Follingsbee said, elevating his eyebrows. "This is anunexpected part of the programme."
"Indeed? And yet this,--" and Alan tapped the note he had just received,with one long, white forefinger,--"this foretells it."
"Ah!" Only this monosyllable; then Mr. Follingsbee broke the seal ofLeslie's letter and began its perusal, his face growing graver and moretroubled as he read.
It was a long letter, and he read it slowly, turning back a pagesometimes to re-read a certain passage. Finally he laid the letter uponhis knee, and sat quite still, with his hands working togethernervously and his brow wrinkled in thought. At last he lifted his eyestoward Alan.
"Do you know what this letter contains?" he asked slowly.
"I know that my sister-in-law has left her home," Alan replied gravely;"nothing more."
"Nothing more?"
"Nothing; really. She left three letters: one for Mrs. French, anotherfor Miss French, and the third for yourself."
"And you.... She left you some message?"
"Not a word, verbal or written."
"Strange," mused the lawyer, taking up his letter and again glancingthrough its pages. "I can't understand it. Mr. Warburton--pardon thequestion--was there any difference, any misunderstanding, between youand Leslie?"
"Does not the letter itself explain?"
"That is what puzzles me. The letter tells her own story--a story that Iknew before, in part at least; a sad story, proving to me that the girlhas been made to suffer bitterly; but it does not, from first to last,mention your name."
Alan sat silent for a moment. Then he turned his face toward the lawyer,as if acting upon some resolve.
"Yesterday," he began quietly, "I held an interview with mysister-in-law. It was not an amicable interview; we have been onunfriendly terms since--since the night of the masquerade."
"Since the masquerade?"
"During that interview," continued Alan, "Mrs. Warburton gave me thebrief outline of what seemed to me a very improbable story."
"Ah!" There was a new shade in the lawyer's voice.
"And I am wondering," Alan goes on, "if your letter contains that samestory."
"Possibly," said Mr. Follingsbee dryly.
"This note which you have given me, and which bears no signature, seemsto indicate as much. Are you acquainted with its contents, sir?"
"I am not." There is a growing crispness in the lawyer's tone, whichAlan is not slow to note.
"Then oblige me by reading it."
Mr. Follingsbee took the note and read it slowly.
"Don't you think," he said, looking up from its perusal, "that we hadbetter begin by understanding each other?"
"I do."
"Very good: this note was left with me by--by such a man as I describedto you."
"By a man in disguise?"
"Just so. This--this man in disguise, came to me in your behalf."
"In my behalf!" exclaimed Alan, in amazement.
"In your behalf. He told me you were in danger, and that the man you hadmost cause to fear was a certain detective: Van Vernet."
Alan Warburton stirred uneasily in his chair, and the old haughty lookcame slowly into his face.
"He said," went on the lawyer slowly, "that because of your pride, andyour obstinacy, you were involving not only yourself but others, in anet that might, if your present course continued, ruin you utterly, andbring upon your cherished family honor a disagreeable blot, if notabsolute disgrace. He did not give me an idea of the nature of thedifference between yourself and this Vernet, but he laid out a verypretty plan by which to baffle him. And he said, as he went away: 'IfAlan Warburton, under all his pride and obstinate clinging to a wrongidea, possesses the sound judgment that I believe him to have--and it'sa pity he has not made better use of it,--he will confide in you, andact upon your advice, if not upon mine. Let him do this and we willbaffle Vernet, and his precious secret will not be dragged to the light.Let him continue in his present course, and Van Vernet will have hishand upon him within a week; the affair of this afternoon shouldconvince him of this.'"
During this remarkable speech, Alan's face had taken on a variety ofexpressions. At the closing sentence he gave a quick start, and then satperfectly still, with his profile toward his companion. After a time heturned his face toward the lawyer; and that personage, looking anxiouslyfor a reply or comment, could read upon the handsome countenance onlycalm resolve and perfect self-control.
"Mr. Follingsbee," he began gravely, "do you understand this allusion tothe events of the afternoon?"
"I do not."
"And yet you have confidence in this disguised stranger?"
"Have I alluded to him as a _stranger_, sir?"
Alan passed his hand across his brow, and said slowly:
"He is not a stranger to you and, evidently, he knows me remarkablywell; I might say too well."
"Ahem! You would be likely to recall your words, if you did."
"Mr. Follingsbee, _who_ is this man?"
"I am not at liberty to speak his name."
"_What_ is he, then?"
"First of all, a gentleman; a man whose championship does you honor,for it proves that he believes in you, in spite of this Van Vernet."
"Was it not a strange freak for this _gentleman_, disguised just as heafterward came to you, to enter my study window, and conceal himself inmy cabinet?"
Mr. Follingsbee looked up with lively interest. "Did he do that?" heasked quickly.
"He did that."
"Well," said Mr. Follingsbee slowly, "I should say that it was quitelike him. He did not talk of his own exploits when he came to me; Ifancy his time was limited."
"Probably; now, Mr. Follingsbee, I think I see things, some things, in aclearer light. This organ-grinder of mine, this gentleman
of yours, thisanonymous friend, is a _detective_!"
"Umph!" mutters the lawyer, half to himself, "we are beginning to useour wits." Then in a louder tone: "Ah, so we are no longer lawyer andwitness?"
"No," with a quiet smile; "we are two lawyers. Let us remain such."
"With all my heart," cries Mr. Follingsbee, extending his hand; "let usremain such."
Alan takes the proffered hand, and begins again.
"This champion of mine, then, is a detective; you admit that?"
"Well--yes."
"In espousing my cause, he is making active war upon Van Vernet?"
"So it appears."
"Then it is safe to say that aside from the interest he has seen fit totake in--in my family and family affairs, he has some personal issuewith Mr. Vernet."
"Possibly."
"Then,--how fast we progress--our detective friend must be a remarkablyclever fellow, or our chances are very slender. Mr. Vernet is called oneof the ablest detectives on the city force."
"True."
"Mr. Follingsbee, have you faith in the ability of thischampion-detective to cope with such a man as Vernet?"
"Well," says the elder gentleman slowly, "if you play your part, I'llvouch for my friend. He is at least a match for Vernet."
"Then I think it would not be a difficult matter to identify him."
"Don't waste your time," interrupts Mr. Follingsbee quickly; "I havetold you all that I am at liberty to tell."
"As you please; but before I begin my story, I must be sure that it is_the_ story. Yesterday, as I told you, I had an interview with mysister-in-law."
"Yes."
"I had observed some things that puzzled me, and--does that letter ofLeslie's contain any statements concerning her early life?" He breaksoff abruptly.
"It does; many statements."
"Do you know anything of her early history?"
"Yes."
"Is she the daughter of Thomas Uliman?"
"His adopted daughter; yes."
"And are her parents living?"
"Two people who claim to be her parents are in this city. I may as wellsay to you now, Mr. Warburton, that Leslie never knew herself to be anadopted child until shortly before her marriage; that she discovered itby accident, and came straight to me with the news, which I had knownall along. Then she told the truth to your brother, and knowing theheight, depth, and absurdity of the Warburton pride, offered to releasehim from his engagement. He refused this release and bade her nevermention the subject again."
He paused a moment, and seeing that Alan was regarding him withsteadfast earnestness, resumed:
"I supposed that the end of the affair, and from that day to this havenever heard a word on the subject from Leslie, or from any one, untilyou brought me this letter. And now, as I have gone thus far into thematter, let me tell you what I have learned from this letter--not asLeslie has written it, but briefly as possible. Shortly before hermarriage, two people, asserting themselves to be the two who gave Leslieto the Ulimans, came and claimed her as their child. They were sorepulsive, clamorous, and so evidently greedy for money, that Lesliecould not, would not, credit their story. Here she made her firstmistake. She bribed these old wretches with a good slice of her littlefortune, instead of turning them and their claim over to me. Theypromised to go away, of course, and never trouble her again, and also ofcourse, they did not keep their word. As soon as she was married to yourbrother, they became bolder; and she was more than ever in their power.She dared not confide in her husband; first, because of his pride, whichwas only a little less than yours, and next, because she feared theeffect of such a revelation upon a constitution so frail, and a mind sosensitive. It was too late, she thought, to come to me; and so it wenton. They drained her private purse to the last dollar; they compelledher to come at their summons at any time, and she had to creep from herhome like a guilty thing to carry hush-money to these wretches. And sothings continued until, in order to satisfy their greed, she must beginto fee them with her husband's money. Think of _that_, sir," casting anironical glance at his _vis-a-vis_; "feeing those common clods with theWarburton gold."
But Alan never noted this home-thrust. He sat quite still, with atroubled look upon his face; seeing which, Mr. Follingsbee continued:
"This she firmly resolved that she would never do; and then came thatmasquerade."
"Ah!" Alan starts as he involuntarily utters the ejaculation, butcontrols himself instantly, and says: "Go on, please."
"That night they sent her a note," continues Mr. Follingsbee. "It camewhen she was in the midst of her guests; and it was so urgent in itsdemands that she grew desperate, threw off her festive garments, andwent, alone, in the night, to the hovel where these old impostors lived.She went to defy them, and she found herself entrapped."
"Entrapped?"
"Yes; while she talked, she was seized by two persons who crept upon herfrom behind. She does not understand their actual object; they seemedtrying to secure the jewels which she had forgotten to remove from herears. Just here she is not very definite; I will read the passage toyou."
He takes up the letter, searches out the lines referred to, and reads:
I can scarcely describe the rest. It is sufficient that a brave man rescued me--at what a fearful cost to himself, I only learned afterward. I escaped from the hovel, and reached my home. You know the rest: how Daisy vanished, and all the sorrow since. And now I tell you that I believe these two have stolen Daisy.
Here he breaks off abruptly. "The rest is a mixture of business affairsand hurried directions how to dispose of her property should she be longabsent, or should she never return, etc. At the close she says, that onthe night of her adventure at the hovel, and during the affray, a manwas killed; and that either herself or her brave rescuer, she isinformed, is likely to be arrested for that crime; and in case of thearrest of either, the other will be compelled to testify _for oragainst_."
"And her motive for now quitting her home so suddenly?"
"Of that she says very little; merely that she is leaving, and that shehopes I will continue my confidence in her."
"Which you do?"
"Which I do."
For many moments Alan Warburton sat with his head bowed, and his facepale and troubled, saying nothing. Then he roused himself, and turnedtowards his companion.
"Mr. Follingsbee," he said, very gravely, "if this story--a part ofwhich you have told me, the rest being contained in that letter--istrue; if Leslie Warburton has been a martyr throughout this affair, thenI am a most contemptible scoundrel!"
"You!" ejaculated the old gentleman testily; "you a scoundrel! Goodheavens, has everybody gone into high dramatics? What have you done?"
"I have accused Leslie of receiving a lover in her own house; of goingfrom her home to meet him; I have heaped upon her insult after insult; Ihave driven her from her home by my cruel accusations!"
A moment Mr. Follingsbee sat looking as if about to pour forth a volumeof wrath, upon the head of his self-accusing visitor; then he said, asif controlling himself by an effort:
"You had better tell the whole story, young man, having begun it."
And Alan did tell the whole story; honestly, frankly and without sparinghimself. He began at the beginning, telling how, at the first, Leslie'syouth, beauty and vivacity, together with a certain disparity of yearsbetween herself and husband, had caused him to doubt her affection forhis brother, and to suspect a mercenary marriage; how he had discoveredher sending away notes by stealth; how his suspicions had grown andstrengthened until, on the night of the masquerade, he had set VanVernet to watch her movements; and how Vernet had discovered, or claimedto discover, a lover in the person of a certain Goddess of Liberty.
At this point in his narrative, Alan was surprised to note certainunmistakable signs of levity in the face and manner of Mr. Follingsbee;and presently that gentleman broke in:
"Wait; just wait. Let's clear up that point, once and for all. That'Godd
ess' was introduced into your house by me, and for a purpose which,to me, seemed good. Until that night he had never seen LeslieWarburton."
"He! then it was a man?"
"It was; and Van Vernet, as I have since learned, knew him and laid atrap for him. Their feud dates from that night."
"Ah, then our detective and the 'Goddess of Liberty'--"
"Are the same. Now resume, please."
Going back to his story, Alan tells how he had followed Leslie; how hehad rushed in, in answer to her cry for aid; how he had rescued her, andhad himself been rescued in turn by a pretended idiot. He told of hisreturn home; his interview with Leslie after the masquerade, and theirlast interview; ending with the scene with Vernet and theorgan-grinder.
"That fellow is the mischief!" said Mr. Follingsbee, rubbing his palmssoftly together. "He's the very mischief!"
"By which I infer that my 'Organ-grinder,' my 'Idiot,' and the 'Goddessof Liberty,' are one and the same?"
"_Pre_cisely; I haven't a doubt of it."
"And that the three are identical with this 'gentleman detective,' who,in making war upon Van Vernet, has espoused my cause, or rather that ofmy sister-in-law."
"Just so."
Alan leans back in his chair, and clutches his two hands upon its eitherarm, fixing his eyes on vacancy. Seeming to forget the presence of his_vis-a-vis_, he loses himself in a maze of thoughts. Evidently they arenot pleasant thoughts, for his face expresses much of perplexity, doubtand disgust, finally settling into a look of stern resolve.
He is silent so long that Mr. Follingsbee grows impatient, and by and bythis uneasiness manifests itself in a series of restless movements. Atlast Alan turns his face toward the lawyer, and then that gentlemanbursts out:
"Well, are you going to sit there all night? What shall you do next?"
Alan Warburton rises from his chair and faces his questioner. "First,"he says slowly, "I am going to find Leslie, and bring her back."
"Oh!"
"You look incredulous; very well. Still, I intend, from this moment, totake an active part in this mysterious complication which has wovenitself about me."
"Have you forgotten Vernet?"
"Not at all; yet it is my duty to make active search for Leslie. Be theconsequences to myself what they may, I can remain passive no longer."
"Alan, you are talking nonsense. Do you suppose Vernet will let you slipnow? Don't you realize that if you are to be found twenty-four hoursfrom this moment, you will be under arrest."
"Nevertheless--"
"Nevertheless, you will persist in being a fool! Sit down there, youngman, and tell me, haven't you been playing that _role_ long enough?"
A hot flush rises to Alan's brow, and an angry light leaps for a momentto his eyes; but he resumes his seat in silence, and turns an expectantgaze upon Mr. Follingsbee.
"Now, Warburton," resumes the little lawyer in a more kindly tone,"listen to reason. I had a long talk with our unknown friend to-day; notso long as I could have wished, but enough to convince me that he knowswhat he is about, and that if you follow his advice, he will pull youthrough. Twice he has saved you from the clutches of this Vernet; leaveall to him, and he will rescue you again, and finally."
"He has, then, mapped out my course for me?" queries Alan haughtily.
"He has, if it suits you to put it so. Good heavens! man, it neededsomebody to plan for you. _You_ have done nothing but blunder, blunder,blunder. And your stupid mistakes have recoiled upon others. I tell you,sir--" bringing his fist down upon the table with noisy emphasis--"thatunless you accept the advice and assistance of this man, whom you seemto dislike without cause, you are lost, ruined, at least in your ownestimation. Confound your Warburton pride! It has brought you into apretty scrape; and all your Warburton wit won't extricate you from it.Confound _you_! I'm sick of you, sir! If it were not for Leslie, andlittle Daisy, Van Vernet might have you, and the Warburton honor mightgo to the dogs, for all my interference!"
The mention of little Daisy had its effect upon Alan. As his companionwaxed wrathful, his own mind became calmer; for a moment he seemed tosee himself through Mr. Follingsbee's spectacles. And then he said:
"I accept your rebuke, for I may have deserved it; certainly I havesufficient reason to feel humble. My unknown champion took pains toinform me that he did not serve me for my own sake; and now you profferme the same assurance. I have blundered fearfully, but I fail to seewhat influence my conduct could have upon poor Daisy's fate."
"Oh, you do!" Mr. Follingsbee is not quite mollified. "Then you don'tsee that Leslie was sorely in need of a friend in whom she couldconfide--just such a friend as she might have found in you, had youbeen, or tried to be, a brother to her, instead of a suspicious,egotistical enemy. She could not take her troubles to Archibald, but shemight have trusted you--she would have trusted you, had your conductbeen what it should."
"I had not thought of that." Alan becomes more humble as his accusercontinues to ply the lash. "What you say may be true. Be sure, sir, ifwe ever find Daisy and Leslie, I shall try to make amends."
"Umph! Then you had better begin now, by taking good advice when it isoffered."
"What do you advise, then?"
"I? nothing, except at second hand. It is this champion of yours whoadvises."
"Then what is his advice?"
"He says that you must quit the country at once."
"Impossible!"
"Nothing of the sort. The _Clytie_ sails for Liverpool to-morrow. Youand Leslie have taken passage--"
"Taken passage! Leslie!"
"Just so; everything has been arranged by--" He pauses, then says: "The'Organ-grinder.'"
"I repeat, it is impossible. Do you think I will leave the country whilelittle Daisy's fate remains--"
"Oh, stop! _stop!_ STOP! Man, are you determined to be an idiot? Willyou hold your tongue and listen?"
"I will listen, yes; but--"
"But--bosh! Listen, then, and don't interrupt."
He lowers his voice, not from fear of an eavesdropper but because,having gained this point, his impatience begins to subside. And Alanlistens, while for more than an hour the little lawyer talks andgesticulates, smiles and frowns. He listens intently, with growinginterest, until at last Mr. Follingsbee leans back in his chair, seemingto relax every muscle in so doing, and says:
"Well, what do you think of it?"
Then Alan Warburton rises and extends his hand impulsively.
"I thank you with all my heart, sir, and I will be guided by you, and byour unknown friend. From this moment, I am at your disposal."
"Umph!" grunts the lawyer, as he grasps the proffered hand, "I thoughtyour senses would come back."