My Lady's Money

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  SHARON'S news was not of an encouraging character. He had met withserious difficulties, and had spent the last farthing of Moody's moneyin attempting to overcome them.

  One discovery of importance he had certainly made. A horse withdrawnfrom the sale was the only horse that had met with Hardyman's approval.He had secured the animal at the high reserved price of twelve thousandfrancs--being four hundred and eighty pounds in English money; and hehad paid with an English bank-note. The seller (a French horse-dealerresident in Brussels) had returned to Belgium immediately on completingthe negotiations. Sharon had ascertained his address, and had written tohim at Brussels, inclosing the number of the lost banknote. In two dayshe had received an answer, informing him that the horse-dealer had beencalled to England by the illness of a relative, and that he had hithertofailed to send any address to which his letters could be forwarded.Hearing this, and having exhausted his funds, Sharon had returned toLondon. It now rested with Moody to decide whether the course of theinquiry should follow the horse-dealer next. Here was the cash account,showing how the money had been spent. And there was Sharon, with hispipe in his mouth and his dog on his lap, waiting for orders.

  Moody wisely took time to consider before he committed himself to adecision. In the meanwhile, he ventured to recommend a new course ofproceeding which Sharon's report had suggested to his mind.

  "It seems to me," he said, "that we have taken the roundabout way ofgetting to our end in view, when the straight road lay before us. If Mr.Hardyman has passed the stolen note, you know, as well as I do, that hehas passed it innocently. Instead of wasting time and money in trying totrace a stranger, why not tell Mr. Hardyman what has happened, and askhim to give us the number of the note? You can't think of everything, Iknow; but it does seem strange that this idea didn't occur to you beforeyou went to France."

  "Mr. Moody," said Old Sharon, "I shall have to cut your acquaintance.You are a man without faith; I don't like you. As if I hadn't thought ofHardyman weeks since!" he exclaimed contemptuously. "Are you really softenough to suppose that a gentleman in his position would talk abouthis money affairs to me? You know mighty little of him if you do. Afortnight since I sent one of my men (most respectably dressed) to hangabout his farm, and see what information he could pick up. My man becamepainfully acquainted with the toe of a boot. It was thick, sir; and itwas Hardyman's."

  "I will run the risk of the boot," Moody replied, in his quiet way.

  "And put the question to Hardyman?"

  "Yes."

  "Very good," said Sharon. "If you get your answer from his tongue,instead of his boot, the case is cleared up--unless I have made acomplete mess of it. Look here, Moody! If you want to do me a good turn,tell the lawyer that the guinea-opinion was the right one. Let him knowthat _he_ was the fool, not you, when he buttoned up his pockets andrefused to trust me. And, I say," pursued Old Sharon, relapsing into hiscustomary impudence, "you're in love, you know, with that nice girl. Ilike her myself. When you marry her invite me to the wedding. I'llmake a sacrifice; I'll brush my hair and wash my face in honor of theoccasion."

  Returning to his lodgings, Moody found two letters waiting on the table.One of them bore the South Morden postmark. He opened that letter first.

  It was written by Miss Pink. The first lines contained an urgententreaty to keep the circumstances connected with the loss of the fivehundred pounds the strictest secret from everyone in general, and fromHardyman in particular. The reasons assigned for making the strangerequest were next expressed in these terms: "My niece Isabel is, Iam happy to inform you, engaged to be married to Mr. Hardyman. If theslightest hint reached him of her having been associated, no matter howcruelly and unjustly, with a suspicion of theft, the marriage would bebroken off, and the result to herself and to everybody connected withher, would be disgrace for the rest of our lives."

  On the blank space at the foot of the page a few words were added inIsabel's writing: "Whatever changes there may be in my life, your placein my heart is one that no other person can fill: it is the place of mydearest friend. Pray write and tell me that you are not distressed andnot angry. My one anxiety is that you should remember what I have alwaystold you about the state of my own feelings. My one wish is that youwill still let me love you and value you, as I might have loved andvalued a brother."

  The letter dropped from Moody's hand. Not a word--not even asigh--passed his lips. In tearless silence he submitted to the pang thatwrung him. In tearless silence he contemplated the wreck of his life.