Mr. Carless read this passage aloud, and then smote the desk heavily with his hand.
“There’s the secret of the murder!” he exclaimed. “You see, gentlemen, Ashton, one holder of the secret, was honest; the other, Cortelyon, was a rogue. Ashton wanted nothing for himself; Cortelyon wanted to profit. Cortelyon saw that by killing Ashton he alone would have the secret; he evidently got two accomplices who were necessary to him, and he meant, by suppressing certain facts and enlarging on others, to palm off an impostor who—mark this!—could be squared by one hundred thousand pounds! Oh, a bad fellow! Keep him tight, Mr. Inspector, keep him tight!”
“You needn’t bother yourself, Mr. Carless,” answered Drillford laconically. “We’ll see to that!”
Mr. Carless again cast an eye on the passage he had just read, and then, touching Lord Ellingham’s arm, drew his attention to it again, whispering something in his ear at which the young man’s cheek reddened. Then he gathered up the papers, carefully replaced them in their linen-lined envelope, and handed them to Drillford.
“Much obliged to you,” he said. “Now, at what time are these miscreants to be put in the dock tomorrow? Ten sharp? Then,” he declared, with a shrewd glance, “I shall be there—and in all my experience I shall never have set eyes on a worse scoundrel than the chief one of ’em! Now, gentlemen, shall we go?”
Outside, Mr. Carless took Lord Ellingham’s arm.
“You know what this really means—to you?” he said.
Lord Ellingham laughed.
“Of course!” he answered.
“Remember,” continued Mr. Carless, with a knowing glance at Mr. Pawle, “you needn’t give in without a struggle! You can make a big fight. You’re in possession; it would take a long time to turn you out. You can have litigation—as much as ever you wish. But—I don’t think there’s the least doubt that the young woman we’re going back to is your cousin, and therefore Countess of Ellingham.”
“Neither do I!” said his client with a smile. “Nor, I think, does Mr. Pawle?”
“Not a doubt of it!” affirmed Mr. Pawle.
“Very well,” said Mr. Carless, and pulled his companions to a halt. “Then—the question now is—who is to tell her?”
The two lawyers and Viner looked from one another to Lord Ellingham—but Lord Ellingham was already eager and responsive.
“Gentlemen,” he said quickly, “I claim that right! If I am to abdicate in favour of another, let me have at any rate the privilege of first greeting the new sovereign! Besides, as I have already said to you—”
Mr. Carless interrupted him by pointing toward Viner’s house, of which they were now in sight.
“I dare say our friend Viner, who has, as he says, been strangely mixed up in this strange affair, can manage matters,” he said dryly. “And as things are, nothing could be better!”
Viner took his companions back into his library, and opening a door, showed Lord Ellingham a small study which lay beyond.
“I’ll bring Miss Wickham to you at once,” he said. Then, with a glance at the two lawyers, which went round again to Lord Ellingham, he added quietly, “When you have told her, you’ll let us know what she says?”
“Aye, aye!” muttered Mr. Pawle. “Good—we must know that!”
Viner went away to the drawing-room and presently brought Miss Wickham back with him. She looked from one solicitor to the other with something of a smile.
“More mystery?” she asked.
Mr. Carless, with a courtly bow, took the girl’s hand.
“My dear young lady,” he said, “there is, this time, a mystery to be explained. And—allow me to hand you into this room—there is a young gentleman in here who will explain it, all of it, a thousand times better than we old fogies possibly could!”
He closed the door on her, and turned to Mr. Pawle.
“I’ll trouble you for a pinch of that old snuff of yours, Pawle!” he said. “Um—dear me! What extraordinary moments we do pass through! Viner, my dear fellow, you’re a book-collector, I know. To—er—pass the time, show me some of your treasures.”
Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, went by, while Viner showed some of his most treasured possessions in the way of print and binding to the two old lawyers. They were both past masters in the art of make-believe, and they contrived to show great interest in what was exhibited to them, but Viner knew very well that when Mr. Pawle was expatiating on the merits of an Elzevir or Mr. Carless on the beauties of a Grolier, they were really wondering what the two young people in the next room, so strangely thrown together, were saying to each other. And then, as he was about to unlock a cabinet, and bring out a collection of autograph letters, the door of the inner room was opened, and the two appeared on the threshold, one looking extremely confident, and the other full of blushes and surprise. And—they were holding each other’s hands.
“Gentlemen—our very good friends,” said Lord Ellingham, “it is only right that we should take you into our confidence at once. There will be no litigation, Mr. Carless—no difficulties, Mr. Pawle. I absolutely insist on resigning—what is not mine—to my cousin, the Countess of Ellingham. And—not in any return, gentlemen!—she has promised to give me something which I shall prize far more than any title or any estate—you understand? And now, if Mr. Viner will excuse me, there are just a few more things we have to say to each other, and then—”
He drew the girl back into the room and closed the door, and the three men, once more left to themselves, solemnly shook hands with each other, heaving sighs of infinite delight and gratification.
Colophon
The Middle of Things
was published in 1922 by
J. S. Fletcher.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
David Reimer,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2006 by
Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans from the
Internet Archive.
The cover page
