d.i.c.k'S ACCUSATION

The party in the gun-room were silent while they waited for Jim. Mrs.

Halliday glanced at the others curiously and got a sense of strain.

d.i.c.k, looking disturbed but resolute, leaned against the table opposite Mordaunt, whose face was rather white; Bernard occupied the bench by the wall and his look was inscrutable. All was very quiet except for the snapping of the stove and the occasional rattle of a cinder falling through the bars. It was something of a relief when Jim came in and Bernard turned on the light.

"Sit down, Jim," he said. "d.i.c.k has something to tell us that he thinks you ought to hear. He hints that it is important."

"It is important," d.i.c.k replied. "The thing has weighed on me for some time. In fact, the load is too heavy and I feel I must get rid of it.

I want to hand over my responsibility, and you are the head of the house, sir."

"Very well," said Bernard. "The post has drawbacks. You had better go on."

"Then I'll begin some time since; the night Lance and I met Jim at the telegraph shack. We talked about England and Jim asked if we knew Langrigg. There was an old French romance on a shelf and Lance read a pa.s.sage. He studied the book when Jim left the shack, and I found out afterwards that Franklin Dearham's name was written across the front page. You see what this implies, sir?"

"You mean Lance knew who Jim was, although you did not. When did you find out?"

"I picked up the book one day at Langrigg. Lance was there. He admitted that he had seen the writing at the telegraph shack."

Jim turned to Mordaunt sharply. "Then, you meant to let me stay in Canada!"

"I did," said Mordaunt, who addressed Bernard. "I thought it would be better for Jim and us if he did not know Langrigg was his. I have not changed my views about it since."

"That has been rather obvious," Bernard remarked and asked d.i.c.k: "Why did you keep the thing dark?"

"I was afraid to meddle; the matter was awkward. Besides, until recently, I trusted Lance. I thought his antagonism sprang from an honest prejudice."

"Perhaps it was honest! Are you willing to state the grounds you had for trying to keep Jim out of the country, Lance?"

"No grounds would justify his robbing Jim of his inheritance," Mrs.

Halliday interposed.

Mordaunt smiled. "I was not scrupulous but imagine my plot is condemned mainly because it failed. I did not think Jim was the man to own Langrigg. His education, character, and the life he had led, did not fit him for the position; it was plain that he would rule Langrigg like a Canadian industrialist and break all our traditions. Right or wrong, I took some thought for the honor of the house."

"I am the head of the house and was an industrialist," said Bernard dryly. "You talk as if you belonged to the old school, but you do not go far enough back. The men who built Langrigg were plain fighting farmers." He signed to d.i.c.k. "Go on!"

"When Jim's car was upset I suspected Shanks was somehow accountable for the accident."

"He was accountable," Jim said grimly; "I didn't know you knew this.

But one must be just. Lance lifted the wheel off my body at some risk to himself."

"That is so," d.i.c.k agreed. "I think he took advantage of it afterwards; I mean he knew we would remember he had saved your life.

It was a generous impulse, but that was all."

"I imagine Lance's character is too complex for your study," Bernard remarked. "Tell us about his deeds."

"Not long since, I was coming home in the dark when I found Lance talking to Tom Shanks in the wood. Lance said he had caught the fellow poaching, and I thought it strange they should talk quietly. I suspected he wanted me to tell Jim, but I did not. His grudge against Jim had been getting worse."

"When did you find Lance talking to Shanks?" Bernard asked, and smiled rather curiously when d.i.c.k replied, for he remembered his visit to the lawyer. Lance had known about the visit.

"Ah," he said, "I begin to see a light! But go on, d.i.c.k; I expect you have now cleared the ground."

"d.i.c.k has missed his vocation; he ought to have been a barrister,"

Mordaunt remarked.

"I'm trying to be just to you and Jim," d.i.c.k resumed. "I have shirked my duty; I trusted you, Lance, and when I found you out it hurt."

"You trusted me until you found Jim was the better man! Well, it looks as if others had copied your example," Mordaunt rejoined.

Bernard made an impatient sign and d.i.c.k resumed: "I've been leading to the night Jim and Carrie were nearly drowned. You all know I was on the sands. Well, I came to Jim's punt when he had left her and gone to look for the geese." d.i.c.k paused and taking out a plan that he put on the table, addressed Jim: "You dragged the punt up the bank and carried out the anchor. Is this sketch of the spot accurate?"

Mordaunt moved abruptly, but controlled himself and stood very quiet; Jim picked up the paper and his face got dark.

"So far as I remember, it is accurate."

"Did you pull the punt down again, or move the anchor?"

"I did not. I was puzzled when I found her floating and the anchor covered."

d.i.c.k gave Bernard the plan. "The punt ought not to have floated before Jim got back. You will note the rows of dots. They stand for footsteps. The first was Jim's; then Shanks came and pulled the punt back into the channel--I saw the mark of the rollers, leading up and down. It is plain he wanted to leave Jim on the middle sand when the tide rose."

"How did you know the steps were Shanks'?" Bernard asked.

"The night was very cold, sir, but he was bare-footed."

"Your surmise is, no doubt, right. Anybody else would have worn boots or waders. But there are three rows of tracks."

d.i.c.k hesitated, then answered quietly: "The last were Lance's. He pa.s.sed the punt close; I don't know if he touched her, but it was plain that she would soon float and Jim was not about."

"This is frankly unthinkable, d.i.c.k!" Mrs. Halliday exclaimed.

For a moment or two the others were silent and their att.i.tudes indicated that the strain was heavy. Mrs. Halliday's face was flushed, Jim's was very stern, and Bernard knitted his brows. d.i.c.k and Mordaunt stood motionless but tense at opposite ends of the table.

"Your statement is very grave, d.i.c.k," Bernard remarked. "Are you persuaded the steps were Lance's?"

"I knew the marks of his fishing brogues, and saw him a short distance off. I think he saw me, because he vanished; he went down into the hollow of the creek, where I have drawn a ring. I went afterwards and carefully examined the ground. I think that is all, sir."

"It is enough," said Bernard, very dryly. "You imply that Lance knew Jim might be cut off by the tide and refused to meddle? But you take something for granted. Why do you imagine Jim's danger was plain to Lance, if it was not then plain to you? You went away."

"I knew Carrie and Jake were farther out on the sands, and came back as soon as possible. I fired my gun to warn Jim. Lance did nothing but went off; he tried to hide from me."

Bernard made a sign of agreement and then inquired: "Why have you been frank about it now, after saying nothing for some time?"

"I'd sooner not reply, sir. The thing mainly touches Lance and me."

"His horrible treachery touches us all," Mrs. Halliday declared. "If it were known, we should be forced to leave the neighborhood. We could not face a scandal like this."

"I imagine it will not be known," Bernard remarked with an ironical smile, and turned to Mordaunt. "Have you anything to state?"