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Vrain should marry you; and as I was told by Mr. Clyne that has pretty well been arranged." "Do you think, then, that Clyne would let his daughter marry a man who has done all this?" said Ferruci, who was now very pale. "I don't believe Clyne knows anything about it," replied Lucian coldly. "You and Mrs. Vrain made up this pretty plot between you.
From his resemblance to Mrs. Vrain for he had the same blue eyes and pink-and-white complexion Lucian guessed that he was her father, and such, indeed, proved to be the case. Link, on Lucian's entrance, introduced him to the sylph in black, who in her turn presented him to the silvery-haired, benevolent old man, whom she called Mr. Jabez Clyne.
"Lyddy," interposed Clyne, hastening to obliterate, if possible, the impression made on the two men by this foolish speech, "how you do go on. But you know your heart is better than your tongue." "It was, to put up so long with Mr. Vrain," said Lydia resentfully; "but I'm honest, if I'm nothing else.
"Very little, and that bad," replied Denzil shortly. "Do you refer to the horrible death of my son-in-law?" "Yes, I do, Mr. Clyne. I believe Ferruci had a hand in it, and if you bring him here I'll tell him so." "Can you prove it?" asked Clyne eagerly. "No.
Clyne had no other desire than to see his beloved Lydia happy, and would willingly have sacrificed everything in his power to gain such an end; but as he did not like Ferruci himself, and saw that Lydia's affections towards him had cooled greatly, he did not encourage the idea of a match between them.
"I wish for all details, then I shall be in a better position to judge." "What you say is only reasonable, Mr. Denzil. I shall tell you my father's history from the time he went to Italy some three years ago. It was in Italy to be precise, in Florence that he met with Lydia Clyne and her father." "One moment," said Denzil. "Before you begin, will you tell me what you think of the couple?"
"With you I am sure to be happy, Lucian, but other people, poor souls, are not so well off." "What other people?" "Jabez Clyne, for one." "My dear," said Lucian, seriously, "I hope I am not a hard man, but I really cannot find it in my heart to pity Clyne. He was and I dare say is a scoundrel!" "I don't deny that he acted badly," sighed Diana, "but it was for his daughter's sake, you know."
I tell you, gentlemen, that Vrain had a chip out of his head. He fancied things, he did; but no one wanted to harm him that I know of." "Yet he died a violent death," said Denzil gravely. "That's a frozen fact, sir," cried Clyne, "and both Lyddy and I want to lynch the reptile as did it; but we neither of us know who laid him out." "I'm sure I don't," said Mrs. Vrain in a weeping voice.
Later on we can discuss these matters, when I am in possession of the facts. You say it was an evil hour when you went to Italy." "It was indeed," said Diana sorrowfully, "for in Florence, at the Pension Donizetti, on the Lung Arno, we met with Lydia Clyne and her father.
"Very queer, Link. I thought everybody was guilty but Rhoda." "Ah!" said the detective, significantly, "it is always the least suspected person who is guilty. I could have sworn that Clyne was the man. Now it seems that he is innocent, so instead of hanging he will only be imprisoned for his share in the conspiracy."
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