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With scarcely an effort he threw off the old mask of reserve, with all the little awkwardnesses and gaucheries which it had entailed, and appeared as the shadow of the self of former days a cultured, polished man of the world. Even Mr. Thurwell's good breeding was scarcely sufficient to conceal his surprise at the metamorphosis.
He was expecting every moment to be arrested for murder, and he was going out to dine. Mr. Maddison to drop at this point the name under which he had chosen to become the tenant of Falcon's Nest was a member of a well-known London club, chiefly affected by literary men, and after his acceptance of Lady Thurwell's invitation, he hastened there at once and went to his room to dress.
"To the Home Secretary, to a party of us as we sat at supper, his guests at the club. Helen, be prepared for a great surprise. The murderer was Sir Allan Beaumerville." "I know it," Helen whispered hoarsely across the room. "Have they arrested Sir Allan?" Mr. Thurwell's surprise at his daughter's knowledge was forgotten in the horror of the scene which her words had called up.
Morton stood respectfully at the door, and the two ladies were already on the threshold. "My dear Sir Allan" in Lady Thurwell's silvery voice "what will you think of such a late visit? I felt ashamed to ask for you, only we have been at the Countess of Applecorn's in the next square, and I could positively not pass your door when I remembered that it was your afternoon.
What passed between us I need not mention. I took up my botanizing case and hurried away along the cliffs, and afterward was met by Mr. Thurwell's servant, with whom I returned once more to look upon my work. Then came the time when suspicion commenced to fall upon my son. I implored him to leave the country. He refused. At last he was arrested.
He withdrew the key with trembling fingers. All his relief at the dismantled appearance of the cottage had disappeared. A strange unquiet look shone in his eyes, and his manner suddenly became nervous and hurried. He had locked the gate on his departure, he was sure, and Mr. Thurwell's steward had told him that there was no duplicate set of keys.
"Especially considering your aversion to our society," put in Helen. "Are not you really thinking it a shocking waste of time to be here talking to two very unlearned women instead of seeking inspiration in your study?" He looked at her reproachfully. "I know nothing of Lady Thurwell's tastes," he said; "but you can scarcely call yourself unlearned. You have read much, and you have thought."
The man took it, and, somewhat impressed by the bearing and manner of speech of the unknown lady, he showed her into the morning-room, and ringing for Miss Thurwell's maid, handed her the note and awaited the decision. It was speedily given. The lady was to be shown to her room at once. The agonizing suspense in which Helen had been living for the last few days had laid a heavy hand upon her.
The high sheriff's a friend of mine, so I got him to pass me in at the same time; but if you'd rather see Dewes alone, you'll say so, won't you?" There had been an acute nervous force working in Bernard Maddison's face during that brief silence. At Mr. Thurwell's words, a change came.
For the first time Bernard Maddison showed some slight sign of emotion. He took Mr. Thurwell's hand, but did not speak for a moment. Then, as they stood there in a little group, Helen glided up to them with a faint smile on her lips, and a strange look in her white face. "Father," she said, "thank God for those words!"
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