An hour and a half after that Larry was leading her to a bench inthe scented darkness of the Sherwoods' lawn. She had telephoned "Mr.Brandon" from a drug-store booth in Flushing, and Larry had been waitingfor her near the entrance to Cedar Crest.
"What brought you out here like this, grandmother?" Larry whispered inamazement as he sat down beside her.
"To tell you that the police are after you," she whispered back.
"I knew that already."
"Yes, I knew that you would."
"But how did you find out?"
"Maggie told me."
"Maggie!"
"She came down to see me, told me what had just happened at her place,told me about Barney hurrying away to slip the news to that Gavegan, andbegged me to warn you at once. She was terribly nervous and wrought up."
"Maggie did that!" he breathed. His heart leaped at her unexpectedconcern for him. "Maggie did that!" And then: "There wasn't any need;she should have known that I would know."
"It was rather foolish in a way--but Maggie was too excited to use coolreason."
His grandmother did not speak for a moment. "Her losing her head andcoming shows that she cares for you, Larry."
He could make no response. This was indeed the clearest evidence Maggiehad yet given that possibly she might care.
"Maggie may have lost her head in her excitement," he managed to say;"but, grandmother, there was no reason for you to lose your head so faras to come away out here to tell me about the police."
"I didn't come away out here to tell you about the police," she replied."I came to tell you something else."
"Yes?"
"You're sure you really care for Maggie?"
"I told you that when I was down to see you this evening."
Though the Duchess had decided, the desire to protect Larry remainedtenaciously in her and made it hard for her jealous love to take arisk. "You're sure she might turn out all right--that is, under betterinfluences?"
"I'm sure, grandmother." He recalled how a few hours earlier at theGrantham the demand of Old Jimmie that she remain with him had seemedthe force that had controlled her decision. "There would be no doubt ofit if it were not for Old Jimmie, and the people he's kept her among,and the ideas he's been feeding her since she was a baby. I don't thinkshe has any love for her father; but they say blood is mighty thick andI guess with her it's just the usual instinct of a child to stand withher father and do what he says. Yes, if she were not held back and helddown by having Old Jimmie for a father, I'm sure she'd be all right."
The Duchess felt that the moment had now arrived for her to unlooseher secret. But despite her fixed purpose to tell, her words had to beforced out, and were halting, bald.
"Jimmie Carlisle--is not her father."
"What's that?" exclaimed Larry.
"Not so loud. I said Jimmie Carlisle is not her father."
"Grandmother!"
"Her father is Joe Ellison."
"Grandmother!" He caught her hands. "Why--why--" But for a moment hisutter dumbfoundment paralyzed his speech. "You're--you're sure of that?"he finally got out.
"Yes." She went on and told of how her suspicion had been aroused,of her interview with Joe Ellison which had transmuted suspicion intocertainty, of her theory of the motives which had actuated JimmieCarlisle in so perverting the directions of the man who had held Jimmieas his most trusted friend.
Larry was fairly stunned by this recital of what had been done. And hewas further stunned as he realized the fullness of what now seemed to bethe circumstances.
"God, think of it!" he breathed. "Maggie trying to be a greatadventuress because she was brought up that way, because she thinks herfather wants her to be that--and having never a guess of the truth! AndJoe Ellison believing that his daughter is a nice, simple girl, happilyignorant of the life he tried to shield her from--and having nevera guess of the truth! What a situation! And if they should ever findout--"
He broke off, appalled by the power and magnitude of what he vaguelysaw. Presently he said in a numbed, awed voice:
"They should know the truth. But how are they to find out?"
"I'm leaving all that to you, Larry. Maggie and Joe Ellison are youraffair. It's up to you to decide what you think best to do."
Larry was silent for several moments. "You've known this for some time,grandmother?"
"For several weeks."
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I was afraid it might somehow bring you closer to Maggie, and I didn'twant that," she answered honestly. "Now I think a little better ofMaggie. And you've proved to me I can trust a great deal more to yourjudgment. Yes, I guess that's the chief reason I've come out here totell you this: you've proved to me I've got to respect your judgment.And so whatever you may do--about Maggie or anything else--will be allright with me."
She did not wait for a response, but stood up. Her voice which had beenshot through with emotion these last few minutes was now that flat,mechanical monotone to which the habitants of her little street wereaccustomed.
"I must be getting back to the city. Good-night."
He started to accompany her to her car, but she forbade him, saying thatit would not help matters to have him seen and possibly recognized bythe taxicab driver; and so she went out of the grounds alone. Withinanother hour and a half she was set down unobserved in a dim side streetin Brooklyn. Thence she made her way on foot to the Subway and rodehome. If the police had noticed her absence and should question her, shecould refuse to answer, or say that she had been visiting late with afriend in Brooklyn.
Larry sat long out in the night after his grandmother had left him. Whatshould he do with this amazing information placed at his disposal? TellJoe Ellison? Or tell Maggie? Or tell both? Or himself try to meet JimmieCarlisle and pay that traitor to Joe Ellison and that malformer ofMaggie the coin he had earned?
But for hours the situation itself was still too bewildering in itsmany phases for Larry to give concentrated thought to what should beits attempted solution. Not until dawn was beginning to awaken dully, aswith a protracted yawn, out of the shadowy Sound, was he able really tohold his mind with clearness upon the problem of what use he shouldmake of these facts of which he had been appointed guardian. He decidedagainst telling Joe Ellison--at least he would not tell him yet. Herecalled the rumors of Joe Ellison's repressed volcano of a temper; ifJoe Ellison should learn how he had been defrauded, all the man's vitalforces would be instantly transformed into destructive, vengeful ragethat would spare no one and count no cost. The result would doubtlessbe tragedy, with no one greatly served, and with Joe very likely back inprison. If he himself should go out to give Old Jimmie his deserts,his action would be just good powder wasted--it likewise would serve noconstructive purpose. Larry realized that it is only human nature for awronged man to wish for and attempt revenge; but that in the economy oflife revenge has no value, serves no purpose; that it usually only makesa bad situation worse.
A tremendous wrong had been done here, a wrong which showed a malignant,cunning, patient mind. But as Larry finally saw the matter, the pointfor first consideration was not the valueless satisfaction of making theguilty man suffer, but was to try to restore to the victims some part ofthose precious things of which they had been unconsciously robbed.
And then Larry had what seemed to him an inspiration: his inspirationbeing only a sane thought, and what the Duchess, though she hadnot pointed the way to him, had thought he would do. Maggie wasthe important person in this situation!--Maggie whose life was justbeginning, and whose nature he still believed to be plastic! Not JoeEllison or Old Jimmie Carlisle, who had almost lived out their lives andwhose natures were now settled into what they would be until the end.By playing upon the finer elements in Maggie's character he had all butsucceeded in rousing to dominance that best nature which existed withinher. He would privately tell Maggie the truth, and tell only her andleave the using of that knowledge to her alone. The shock of thatknowledge, the effect of its
revelations upon her, together with theresponsibility of what she should do with this information, might bejust the final forces necessary to make Maggie break away from all thatshe had been and swing over to all that he believed she might be.
Yes, that was the thing to do! And he would do it within the next twelvehours; for Dick had told him that Maggie was coming out again to CedarCrest on the afternoon of the day which was now rousing from its sleep.That is, he would do it if the police or the allies of his one-timefriends did not locate him before Maggie came. But of that he had noserious fear; he knew he had made a clean get-away from the Grantham,and that the shrewd Duchess had left no scent by which those bloodhoundsof the Police Department could trail her.
Larry did not even try to sleep; he knew it would be of no avail. Backin his own room he sat going over the situation, and his decision. Hetingled with the sense of the tremendous power which had been deliveredinto his hands. Yes, tremendous! But what were going to be Maggie'sreactions the moment he told her?--just what would be her course aftershe knew the truth?