"Upon report of these incidents reaching the office, double watches are a.s.signed to shadow both cellar and cabin occupants. It becomes evident that the cabin tenant is simply spying upon conduct of the others.

Fearing that any decisive attempt to learn his 'lay' may work unnecessary complications, he has not been molested.

"This same Thames programme and tableau were enacted each of the two succeeding nights. On last afternoon, shortly before dusk, both men came up the stairs. They walk along together for a while, when the elder stops at a stall where loaves of bread are exhibited. One of our agency men is just ahead, lounging along lazily, but intently listening. The elder, who slightly limps, softly says:

"'Get back early, Paul!' then glances nervously ahead. In subdued whisper comes the reply, 'Yes, father.'

"That evening former performance is repeated. This important clew was reported at headquarters shortly before your call.

"It cannot be otherwise than that Pierre and Paul Lanier are in London, occupying the bas.e.m.e.nt room down those old stairs. Paul makes these night trips up the Thames to scene of his crimes. His conduct stamps him as the murderer of Alice Webster and Oswald Langdon."

Sir Donald holds his peace while shrewd guesses are made as to causes of such suggestive actions.

Still referring to his memoranda, the chief continues:

"Paul is partially deranged. The bodies pitched over the steep bank, and he imagines will escape. Knowing that Alice Webster had been rescued from the lake, he fears she may rise from Thames depths. Pausing at shrubbery along the sh.o.r.e and scrutinizing of projecting branches is through knowledge of how she was saved from that lake immersion. Perhaps Paul is sane on all subjects except the murders. Even as to these he may manifest much craft. Such crazed freaks sooner or later will lead to sure exposure. Pierre knows his son's disordered mental state. It is only necessary that both be well watched. Paul's irresponsible craze will do the rest. The 'lay' of this spy can only be surmised. Perhaps these villains are suspected of other crimes. It is improbable that any self-const.i.tuted detective is on their trails. However, this sleuth will be persistently shadowed. It is possible that thereby some important 'find' may occur. By such course our bureau will hedge against all interference."

Sir Donald is greatly encouraged. That the agency fully believes in murder of Oswald Langdon by Paul Lanier is immaterial. The death of Alice Webster is only too certain. Paul thinks he has slain both. It is not strange if thoughts of his awful crimes have caused at least partial madness. Sir Donald says: "This homicidal mania may lead to queer freaks. There are no reliable rules to follow in treatment of such a man. It will be necessary to guard against every possible surprise. Paul must be so carefully and constantly watched as to render his being at large harmless. Otherwise, more deaths may be chargeable to his account."

The chief agrees, and replies:

"It will not do for you or your daughter to remain in London. Sight of either of you might cause the Laniers to leave. Stay of these villains in London will promote exposure of their crimes through Paul's mad infatuation. It is possible Paul sometimes may appear in vicinity of Northfield. There is no telling but that his disordered fancy may find material in former lake memories."

Sir Donald sees the force of these suggestions. He will employ guards at Northfield and along sh.o.r.es of the lake. Father and daughter go home that afternoon. As if in reverie, he says:

"I feel renewed confidence in the London agency. There have been many obstacles. The system employed was faultless. It is unreasonable to judge by the results. Have not my own most subtle, well-matured plans proved unavailing? You never thought of taking part in this scheming for man-capture, yet every important link discovered should be credited to your sweet infatuation. I hardly have treated this agency with proper consideration.

"While kept posted by it, I have concealed much. Neither Paris hospital confession, nor Mary Dodge's story, nor strange romance of Oswald Langdon has been hinted at by me.

"There is no telling how much such information, promptly communicated, might have affected plans of these sleuths in unraveling such complicated villainies.

"It is true this agency might not have respected my scruples as to possible effects of such disclosures upon the fate of William Dodge or of Oswald Langdon. Such confidences still shall remain inviolate."

Thus cogitating and talking, Sir Donald pa.s.ses the time between London and Northfield. Esther intently listens, but is silent. They pa.s.s up the flower-fringed path to front porch. Then there are joyful recognitions, e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed questions, and happy, tearful welcomes.

Long-absent son and brother is home again. Charles has been around the world. Though sending and receiving frequent letters, he had not written about his proposed return.

This surprise drives from the minds of Sir Donald and Esther all unpleasant memories of recent years. Return of this handsome young man, safe, sound, and joyous, to his childhood home after such long absence is happiness enough for the present. Many days pa.s.s before Sir Donald can fix his thoughts upon the Lanier affair. However, two servants have been detailed to watch along sh.o.r.es of the lake and to report any strange actions they may see. One is on day and the other on night duty.

Similar precautions are taken about the mansion grounds.

Sir Donald hesitates to say anything to his son about these strange experiences. Still it is unwise to withhold such confidences. Charles is energetic, quick-witted, discreet, and decisive. He may prove a most valuable ally, and must be on guard against Lanier plots.

After hearing the story, Charles Randolph makes numberless inquiries and suggestions, but finds that his father has considered every phase of this entangled affair. The son talks most about that other spy who trailed the Laniers. He is greatly interested in those strange shadowings by mysterious person in Calcutta, and in disconnected dream-lines so dramatically declaimed by some wood-concealed orator along the lake sh.o.r.e. Charles is anxious to solve these mysteries. He suggests some decisive plans.

Sir Donald listens patiently, and quietly refers to the many hazards.

Charles is disposed to criticise the conduct of Oswald Langdon. "This man acted unwisely. He should have faced all with manly courage, and accepted the consequences."

His father so minutely elaborates each mitigating circ.u.mstance, with such profound array of all interests to be promoted by Oswald's whole course, that Charles feels an accusing sense. He frankly admits his error.

Esther's troubled face grows radiant. Sir Donald and Charles exchange looks. Their talk drifts to lighter subjects.

Esther and Charles are much together. Enthusiastic reminiscences often are followed by irrelevant questions and vague comments. From pensive moods Esther rallies with pretty, dissembling, sisterly interest.

All this has a charming pathos for Charles. He shrewdly diagnoses these symptoms. With much brotherly craft Charles approves of Oswald Langdon's erratic courses, speaking hopefully about prospects of full vindication.

Such references electrify Esther. She makes little effort to hide her glad appreciation. After these sage comments, Esther gazes admiringly into her brother's face. This ermineless expounder counterfeits much gowned gravity, looking wisely impartial.

To dispel moody, pensive abstractions requires that oft and anew this "Daniel come to judgment."

CHAPTER XXI

PIERRE'S SEARCH FOR PAUL

Paul Lanier's crazed caprices grow more frequent. Tractable moods are now exceptional. Occasional lapses from petulant, domineering tempers to childish penitence and a.s.surance of future amends greatly relieve Pierre's hara.s.sed mind, but such are rare.

The worried father is powerless to provide against any dreaded disclosures or notoriety. All disguises and secretive craft seem void of availing use, subject to such irresponsible, persistent crazes.

Pierre may not flee. Distracted by his son's emotional outlawry and fearful infatuation, Pierre Lanier has no desire to forsake the crazed Paul. He will risk ignominious arrest and gallows' accounting rather than leave this insane youth to his fate.

At times is felt a certain sense of dogged resignation. This cautious, crafty, resourceful schemer becomes strangely quiescent. With this stoical temper come moods of questioning reflection. He mutters:

"How fearfully void have been my plans and dubious courses! To what purpose was a trusting partner duped by hypocritical sympathy, lured to bankrupt's expedients and goaded to self-murder? Wherein consisted worth of embezzled funds? For whose advantage was the guileless ward defrauded out of princely inheritance? That villainous sham suit and those Thames murders, of what avail were such crimes? To what end was that subservient tool suborned, and afterward, with trusting wife, murderously a.s.saulted in deserted Calcutta suburb?

"That these should be followed by such terribly hara.s.sing flights, culminating in purposeless return to London, Paul's dreadful disorder and present helpless mazes seems direct sentence execution upon Pierre Lanier. Are not all these fateful perversities c.u.mulative wrath upon my own guilty head?

"Such remorseless avenging!"

It seems to Pierre Lanier that Nemesis has found the most susceptible joint in his conscious being, and with relentless persistence is testing its capacity for torture.

Attempts at stoical endurance are but briefly availing. The dreadful presence of Paul's craze will not avaunt. This haunting incarnation of Lanier guilt and accounting shifts its boding menace but to appear more real at each altered view.

Helpless to provide against any of the dreaded contingents hedging them about, Pierre's whole care is absorbed in avoiding Paul's capricious displeasure. He studies his son's crazed peculiarities. Childhood memories seem to exert most potent control over Paul's unfilial tendencies. However, such influences are uncertain, partaking of childish perverseness.

Since that time when Pierre learned his son's horrible Thames infatuation, he had not spied upon Paul's night vigils. Months have dragged their slow tortures.

At length there is a variation in daily worries at the Lanier room. Paul is missing. In fearful suspense the startled father waits all the first day and night. Doubtless Paul has made some bad break. Perhaps this insane boy has committed an a.s.sault on some real or imaginary foe.

Possibly he is in need or in custody!

Pierre waits until the second morning, then, thoroughly disguised, goes out to look for Paul. Up and down the Thames, from the boathouse to a point miles above the rustic seat, this search is continued that day and the following night without avail. Guarded inquiry at police headquarters fails to disclose any clew.

Pierre's anxiety becomes so great that he relaxes habitual craft of a lifetime in his solicitude for Paul's safety. Pierre sees this poor, helpless, disordered child in want, bruised, and bleeding, calling in vain for his father's help. Paul is a little, trusting, crying, helpless lad again, but without that father's providing or protecting care.

Just before day of the fourth night after Paul's strange disappearance Pierre is aroused from sleep by deep, guttural sounds. He is petrified at the sight!

Black, uncombed hair in tangled disorder, blood-stains on face, hands, and bedraggled clothing, brandishing a new long-bladed dagger, stands Paul, staring into vacancy, incoherently muttering.