Had Eversleigh been a strong man, he would have made the death of his partner an excuse for this examination--so natural an excuse, in truth, that Williamson would have thought nothing of it. But he had not got very far in examining the books when he became aware that the head-clerk was following all he did with suspicious interest. The mere fact that Eversleigh was manifesting unusual activity was enough to excite surprise in Williamson. The first shock which the returning complacency of the solicitor received came from the thought that perhaps Williamson had a glimmering of the truth.

Then Eversleigh could not do much in the way of investigation without referring to Williamson for information. In any case, Eversleigh saw with fatal distinctness, that if this process were continued, the result could be no other than to put Williamson in possession of the whole circ.u.mstances of the firm. Conscious of this, his good resolves suffered eclipse, and he once more fell back on the desperate policy of letting things drift whither they would. But, for a week or two, matters at 176, New Square, Lincoln's Inn, went on as if nothing out of the common had happened, or was likely to happen. Francis Eversleigh, his son Ernest, the head-clerk Williamson, and the other clerks, occupied their accustomed seats in their accustomed rooms. People came and went as usual; deeds were prepared, doc.u.ments drawn up, and all the machinery of the office seemed to be in excellent running order. No shadow of approaching doom darkened the firm's doors.

Still, Eversleigh knew that he could not continue his policy of drifting beyond a certain point. It was part of his unescapable misfortune that the severest pressure on him came in one way or another from members of his own unsuspecting family.

In the first place, it was necessary to get another partner in place of Silwood. This, on various pretexts, which gave him delay, he put off. He knew that Ernest must expect to be taken into partnership at this juncture when a suitable opportunity presented itself. But to make Ernest a partner meant involving the young man in the ruin of the firm--if ruin came, and Eversleigh in his heart now believed that it was inevitable--and he was minded not to do this if it could be helped. But it was difficult for him to resist the pressure brought to bear upon him. His wife spoke to him of Ernest, but he managed to quiet her with the promise that before long the matter would be satisfactorily arranged. And this was the easier, inasmuch as the poor lady, who had seen the improvement in her husband's state of health after the verdict, believed Ernest had only to wait a few weeks and all would be well.

But the improvement in Francis Eversleigh's bodily and mental health was only, could be only temporary. Already drifting like a rudderless ship, he might any moment founder on the rocks. Deeply involved in a course of equivocation and deceit, to which there could be but one end, unless some miracle occurred, the necessity of continuing in it, added to the other circ.u.mstances of his situation, soon changed the transient brightness of his spirits into the gloom of that settled and terrible melancholy which had descended upon him before. In vain he strove to fight against it, to overcome it; his efforts were utterly useless.

The most serious things he had to consider were the Thornton Estate and the Silwood Estate.

With regard to the latter, he well knew there was no such thing as a Silwood Estate at all, but he deemed it essential for the sake of keeping up appearances to make a pretence that there was such an estate--at least, until it became evident there was none. Here the "law's delays," of which he took full advantage, a.s.sisted him; but then there was Williamson endlessly curious and prying. Some of the questions he put to his princ.i.p.al were hard to answer, and drove Eversleigh to the verge of madness.

Silwood's room in the office, the j.a.panned box--always excepting the secret cavity of which no one knew--the whole office, and finally Silwood's chambers in Stone Buildings, now free from the embargo of the law, had been carefully searched for the will of the dead solicitor; but no will had been found. Williamson openly said that the absence of a will in the case of a man who must have been rich, and who was a lawyer to boot, was a most singular thing. Undoubtedly it was this that suggested to the head-clerk something of the actual fact, namely, that there was a screw loose with respect to the financial position of the firm. But, as before, he had nothing definite to go on, and he never dreamed that the affairs of the house were in the desperate condition they really were.

But it was the Thornton Estate which troubled Eversleigh most of all.

Gilbert, as the affianced husband of Kitty, spoke to his father soon after the inquest about Morris Thornton's property, and asked him if Thornton's will was deposited in the office, or if the agents in Canada had it.

Francis knew there was a will in the office, and was tolerably sure no other was in existence, but Gilbert's query gave him a chance of standing him off on the whole subject for a considerable time. He s.n.a.t.c.hed at it eagerly.

"We have a will of his," he said to his son, "but it was executed a good many years ago. I am, in the circ.u.mstances in which you stand towards Kitty, betraying no confidence when I tell you that by that will he left everything of which he was possessed to her. But it is quite possible there may be a later will. That is a matter for inquiry. It will certainly be necessary for us to wait till we hear from the agents in British Columbia. They have been apprized by cable and by letter of Mr. Thornton's death, and they must have seen something of it in the papers--the noise of it has gone round the world. But we must not move until we have heard from them. In the event of its being reasonably sure that there is no other will, we will, of course, submit the one we have to probate as soon as may be. I don't think we can do more at present."

"I understand," said Gilbert; "you will just observe the usual routine.

I suppose it will be some weeks, perhaps a month or two, before anything further can be done. Still, I imagine you can get all the affairs of his that are in your hands into the best order."

"Oh," said Eversleigh, with an attempt at lightness, "that is all right.

Mr. Silwood had charge of them, and now I have."

"I have no doubt, sir, they are all right," said Gilbert, unsuspiciously.

"Yes, yes. I should say in a month or six weeks we can go to probate, but it will depend, of course, upon what we hear from Vancouver. You may be sure there will be no unnecessary delay."

"I am certain of that," a.s.sented Gilbert, readily, unvisited by the slightest inkling of his father's state of mind.

Similar pretexts were used by Eversleigh in dealing with Ernest and Williamson. And so a little time was gained, but it was to very small purpose. Once more the strain on him was fast becoming past endurance.

A fortnight, three weeks, went by, and Eversleigh had relapsed altogether into his former condition of deepest dejection, to the alarm of his wife and relatives, who wondered what in the world could account for it. But though he had gained respites in the matters that disquieted him most seriously, he knew that at most and best they were but respites, and likely to be short ones. He saw the day of reckoning drawing nearer and nearer; that it should come in all probability through his son Gilbert and Kitty, whom he loved as his own child, was an aggravation of his sufferings.

It had been the custom of the Eversleighs to betake themselves to the seaside during the month of August, but this year, because of all that had happened, it had not been observed. Francis Eversleigh was entreated by his family to take a brief holiday, but he declined on the plea there was too much work at the office. He, on the other hand, besought his wife to go away for a change, but she would not, with the result that the Eversleighs and Kitty stayed on at Surbiton.

It was now that Kitty, more than all the rest, showed her affection for him by devoting herself a.s.siduously to his comfort in the most marked manner. The girl was fond of him for his own sake, and was he not Gilbert's father? In many little ways she tried to cheer him, and to drive away the dark shadow that enveloped him. And all these loving attentions were so many fresh stabs to the miserable man.

As the days ran on, Eversleigh was a prey to constant apprehensions; he was haunted by the dread, from moment to moment, of something happening which would lead to exposure.

And come it did, but from an unexpected quarter.

It came in the form of a demand for a large sum of money, and it came from Harry Bennet, a man whom Eversleigh had almost forgotten, particularly as Harry had for some time been a stranger at Ivydene.

This demand meant ruin.

CHAPTER XIX

The demand from Bennet was contained in a short letter, and the sum he asked for was ten thousand pounds.

With a curt explanation that a horse on which he had put a great deal of money had disappointed him, he said it was now necessary for him to have this amount immediately. He went on to say that he knew they, his solicitors, had no ready money of his in their hands, but they would undoubtedly be able to advance it on the security of Beauclerk Mansions, which he directed them to sell. However, to sell them to the best advantage might take some time. Would they, therefore, antic.i.p.ate the proceeds of the sale to the extent of the sum asked for, and repay themselves afterwards when the sale was effected? He was sure that the Mansions would fetch far more than ten thousand pounds.

Though the period had been marked by events so important as to cause it to seem of considerable length, but a few weeks in reality had elapsed since Harry Bennet had proposed to and been rejected by Kitty Thornton.

Like all the world, Bennet was not ignorant of what had happened in the Eversleigh circle, but he was completely absorbed by his turf speculations. He had not quite forgotten his purpose of being revenged on Gilbert, but for the time it slumbered.

After Goodwood, all through the month of August, Bennet followed the round of race-meetings with unimpaired zest; sometimes he was successful in his bets, but far more frequently he was a heavy loser. He had soon spent the considerable sum he had made during his Goodwood campaign, and now was hard pressed for funds. He had already managed to dissipate the whole of his once extensive patrimony, with the exception of the large block of flats called Beauclerk Mansions, which he now told his solicitors to put on the market.

In ordinary circ.u.mstances there would have been no difficulty in getting an immediate advance on the property, which was worth far more than ten thousand pounds, as Bennet said. But Cooper Silwood had changed all that.

Williamson, who now watched, as a cat a mouse, Eversleigh as he had watched Silwood, had put the letter into his princ.i.p.al's hand with the remark that it was such a pity Mr. Bennet was ruining himself; he seemed bent on going headlong to destruction!

Francis Eversleigh merely nodded, read the letter, and said dully that he would attend to the matter himself presently.

At first he was not without hope that all was well, and that the advance could be procured. But a brief examination showed him that Beauclerk Mansions no longer stood in Bennet's name--they had been sold during the preceding year, as he shortly discovered, by Silwood. Amongst other things, this of course meant that Silwood had forged Bennet's signature.

But, at the moment, Eversleigh did not stop to think of it; the one d.a.m.ning fact which stood forth with frightful distinctness was that Beauclerk Mansions were already sold.

"What am I to do?" groaned Eversleigh.

He considered if there was any way by which he could raise the money; but ten thousand pounds is a large sum, even to a rich man, when it has to be put down in cold cash. Still, the credit of the firm was unimpaired, and for a few brief moments Eversleigh permitted himself the luxury of imagining his bankers would advance the amount. But he knew they would not do so without security, and he was certain he had none to offer. Silwood had taken care of that.

"What am I to do? In Heavens name, what am I to do?" Eversleigh asked himself, while his heart seemed to be contracting under the unrelenting grip of a hand of iron.

Ruin, black ruin!

It was coming very near, very near!

And worse than ruin.

Infamy!

Again, as often before, he saw the convict's cell, the desolate home, the wife and children whom he loved for ever disgraced.

The cold sweat of terror, of despair, stood on the brows of the wretched man, who shook and trembled as with palsy. He had a swooning sense that he was standing in the midst of a dissolving world, a wreck amidst a myriad of wrecks all whirling on to some dark abyss. He felt as if his brain were giving way under these repeated shocks; then a merciful blankness and vacuity of thought and impression suddenly descended upon him.

Williamson, coming into the room later, found Eversleigh in a faint stretched across the table.

The head-clerk regarded his princ.i.p.al curiously; then he proceeded, before attempting to resuscitate Eversleigh, to look carefully over the papers lying on the table. Amongst them, however, he saw nothing that was of a specially suspicious character, unless it was Bennet's letter.

Having satisfied himself on this point, Williamson next endeavoured to revive his master.