“Not unless it was about that stewardship,” replied Nesta. “But—how could that frighten her? Besides, all that’s over. Normandale is mine!—and if I have a steward, or an estate agent, I shall see to the appointment myself. No!—I do not know why he should have come here! But—there’s some mystery. The curious thing is—”
“What?” asked Collingwood, as she paused.
“Why,” she said, shaking her head wonderingly, “that I’m absolutely certain that my mother never even knew this man Pratt—I don’t I think she even knew his name—until quite recently. I know when she got to know him, too. It was just about the time that you first called here—at the time of Mr. Bartle’s death. Our butler told me this morning that Pratt came here late one evening—just about that time!—and asked to see my mother, and was with her for some time in the study. Oh! what is it all about?—and why doesn’t she tell me?”
Collingwood stood silently staring out of the window. At the time of Antony Bartle’s death? An evening visit?—evidently of a secret nature. And why paid to Mrs. Mallathorpe at that particular time? He suddenly turned to Nesta.
“What do you wish me to do?” he asked.
“Will you speak to Mr. Eldrick?” she said. “Tell him that his clerk must not call upon, or attempt to see, my mother. I will not have it!”
Collingwood went off to Barford, and straight to Eldrick’s office. He noticed as he passed through the outer rooms that Pratt was not in his accustomed place—as a rule, it was impossible to get at either Eldrick or Pascoe without first seeing Pratt.
“Hullo!” said Eldrick. “Just got in from town? That’s lucky—I’ve got a big case for you.”
“I got in last night,” replied Collingwood. “But I went out to Normandale first thing this morning: I’ve just come back from there. I say, Eldrick, here’s an unpleasant matter to tell you of”; and he told the solicitor all that Nesta had just told him, and also of Pratt’s visit to Mrs. Mallathorpe about the time of Antony Bartle’s death. “Whatever it is,” he concluded sternly, “it’s got to stop! If you’ve any influence over your clerk—”
Eldrick made a grimace and waved his hand.
“He’s our clerk no longer!” he said. “He left us the week after you went up to town, Collingwood. He was only a weekly servant, and he took advantage of that to give me a week’s notice. Now, what game is Master Pratt playing? He’s smart, and he’s deep, too. He—”
Just then an office-boy announced Mr. Robson, the Mallathorpe family solicitor, a bustling, rather rough-and-ready type of man, who came into Eldrick’s room looking not only angry but astonished. He nodded to Collingwood, and flung himself into a chair at the side of Eldrick’s desk.
“Look here, Eldrick!” he exclaimed. “What on earth has that clerk of yours, Pratt, got to do with Mrs. Mallathorpe? Do you know what Mrs. Mallathorpe has done? Hang it, she must be out of her senses—or—or there’s something I can’t fathom. She’s given your clerk, Linford Pratt, a power of attorney to deal with all her affairs and all her property! Oh, it’s all right, I tell you! Pratt’s been to my office, and exhibited it to me as if—as if he were the Lord Chancellor!”
Eldrick turned to Collingwood, and Collingwood to Eldrick—and then both turned to Robson.
XIII
The First Trick
The Mallathorpe family solicitor shook his head impatiently under those questioning glances.
“It’s not a bit of use appealing to me to know what it means!” he exclaimed. “I know no more than what I’ve told you. That chap walked into my office as bold as brass, half an hour ago, and exhibited to me a power of attorney, all duly drawn up and stamped, executed in his favour by Mrs. Mallathorpe yesterday. And as Mrs. Mallathorpe is, as far as I know, in her senses—why—there you are!”
“What is it?” asked Eldrick. “A general power? Or a special?”
“General!” answered Robson, with an air of disgust. “Authorizes him to act for her in all business matters. It means, of course, that that fellow now has full control over—why, a tremendous amount of money! The estate, of course, is Miss Mallathorpe’s—he can’t interfere with that. But Mrs. Mallathorpe shares equally with her daughter as regards the personal property of Harper Mallathorpe—his share in the business, and all that he left, and what’s more, Mrs. Mallathorpe is administratrix of the personal property. She’s simply placed in Pratt’s hands an enormous power! And—for what reason? Who on earth is Pratt—what right, title, age, or qualification, has he to be entrusted with such a big affair? I never knew of such a business in the whole course of my professional experiences!”
“Nor I!” agreed Eldrick. “But there’s one thing in which you’re mistaken, Robson. You ask what qualification Pratt has for a post of that sort? Pratt’s a very smart, clever, managing chap!”
“Oh, of course! He’s your clerk!” retorted Robson, a little sneeringly. “Naturally, you’ve a big idea of his abilities. But—”
“He’s not our clerk any longer,” said Eldrick. “He left us about a week ago. I heard this morning that he’s set up an office in Market Street—in the Atlas Building—and I wondered for what purpose.”
“Purpose of fleecing Mrs. Mallathorpe, I should say!” grumbled Robson. “Of course, everything of hers must pass through his hands. What on earth can her daughter have been thinking of to allow—”
“Stop a bit!” interrupted Eldrick. “Collingwood came in to tell me about that—he’s just come from Normandale Grange. Miss Mallathorpe complains that Pratt called there yesterday in her absence. That’s probably when this power of attorney was signed. But Miss Mallathorpe doesn’t know anything of it—she insists that Pratt shall not visit her mother.”
Robson stirred impatiently in his chair.
“That’s all bosh!” he said. “She can’t prevent it. I saw Mrs. Mallathorpe myself three days ago—she’s recovering very well, and she’s in her right senses, and she’s capable of
