"Yes," said Mr. Clendon, quietly, "I am convinced. I could not tell you why; let us say that it is because your lover's face is not that of a guilty man. Besides," he added, with the ghost of a smile, "a man does not walk about a wood with a stolen jewel-case under his arm--if he himself is the thief."

"Of course!" cried Celia, stopping short, her face lighting up. "No one would be such a fool--least of all Sydney," she added, more to herself than to him, "who is so clever."

"Exactly," said Mr. Clendon. "So you see, my child, you have nothing to be alarmed about. Here is the Hall!" He looked up at the n.o.ble facade with a curious expression in his face. "It is years since I have been here," he added, musingly.

"You have been here before, you know the Marquess?" said Celia. "Yes, you said so. How strange! Why, Mr. Clendon," she broke off, turning upon him, with a flush of grat.i.tude, "I see now, I see now! It was _you_ who got me the place here. And I never guessed it! Oh, how good you have been to me! And you hid it." Her hand pressed his.

The old man frowned slightly. "You have caught me, my dear," he said.

"It was a great pleasure to me to be of a.s.sistance to you. But we have other things to think of," he added, as they pa.s.sed up the steps into the hall.

The butler met them, suppressing the astonishment he felt at sight of the poorly-dressed old man in Miss Grant's company, suppressing it not only from the instincts of a well-trained servant, but because he knew, at a glance, that shabby as the bent figure was, the stranger was a gentleman.

"My name is Clendon," said Mr. Clendon. "I am an old friend of Lord Sutcombe's; and I have come down to inquire after him, to see him if it is possible."

"Certainly, sir," said the butler; and he led the way to the drawing-room. But Celia drew Mr. Clendon into the library.

"Stay with me here," she begged him. "I will go up to the Marquess's room and see if he is well enough to be told that you are here. I fear that you will not be able to see him. And you must have something to eat," she said, with womanly consideration.

"Thank you, my dear, I need nothing," he said.

As he spoke, the door was opened, none too gently, and Heyton stood on the threshold. He looked from Celia to the old man with what was intended to be a stare of haughty surprise; but was, in reality, a kind of sullen insolence.

"Oh? Who is this?" he demanded.

"A friend of your father's, Lord Heyton," said Mr. Clendon, before Celia could speak. "So old and so dear a friend that he is warranted in intruding, even at such a moment."

"Well, you are intruding, right enough, though you may be an old friend," said Heyton, thickly. "My father is very ill, dangerously ill, as you may have heard. This is no time for--for visitors."

"Forgive me," said Mr. Clendon gently, but with a calmness and dignity that impressed even the only half-sober Heyton, "but my intrusion is justified, as Lord Sutcombe will bear me out, when he knows I am here."

"Oh, well," said Heyton, with an insolent shrug of his shoulders. "I can't speak any more plainly. If you can't take a hint--but it doesn't matter; I'm quite certain that you can't see my father, even if he can be told that you are here."

"We will see," said Mr. Clendon.

Heyton looked at him for a moment, angrily and a trifle suspiciously; then he swung on his heel and went out.

"You must not mind," said Celia. "Lord Heyton is, naturally, very much upset. I should think he scarcely knows what he is saying to you."

"Very likely," a.s.sented Mr. Clendon gravely, and without any sign of resentment.

"I will go up now," said Celia; "and I will come down again to you directly."

"One moment," he said, staying her with a gesture. "Will you give me a sheet of paper and a pen and ink?"

Celia did so. Mr. Clendon wrote the letter "W" on the paper, folded it and handed it to her.

"Will you give him this, my dear? If he cannot read it, you may open it and tell him what is written on it."

CHAPTER XXIX

Celia went up to the sick-room. She saw at a glance that the Marquess's condition had improved; he was, of course, still dangerously ill, and very weak; but his eyes, as they rested on her, were perfectly intelligent and he smiled slightly as she bent over him. Then she turned away to Doctor Scott and told him of Mr. Clendon's arrival and desire to see the Marquess.

"I don't think he can do any harm, if he'll be quiet," said the doctor.

"At any rate, there is not sufficient reason for refusing to show the paper to the Marquess."

Celia knelt beside the bed and conveyed gently Mr. Clendon's request for an interview.

"Mr. Clendon?" repeated the Marquess, knitting his brows. "I don't know him, my dear."

Then, slowly, she showed him the paper; but he could not read the letter on it and she told him what it was. A flush rose to the white face, and he nodded once or twice; and it seemed to Celia that the inclination of the head had in it something more than a consent to receive the visitor, an indication of some resolution, decision. She went downstairs, and told Mr. Clendon the Marquess would see him.

The old man rose, with the aid of a stick, and followed her through the hall; he looked about him, not curiously, but musingly; and he paused for a second or two before the portrait of the young man in hunting kit, the Marquess's elder brother; the pause was almost imperceptible, but Celia, remembering the scene between herself and the Marquess on the night of his arrival, noticed the pause; but the old man's face conveyed nothing and was as impa.s.sive as usual. She took him to the Marquess's room. Lord Sutcombe, at sight of his visitor, tried to rise; but fell back, stretching out his hand, murmuring,

"Wilfred!" Then he looked at the nurse and doctor. "Will you please leave us alone for a little while. This gentleman is----"

Mr. Clendon laid his hand upon his brother's arm and stopped him.

Celia went downstairs, and found Mr. Jacobs standing before the portrait of the Marquess's brother.

"Fine picture that, Miss Grant," he said. "He must have been a splendid fellow: great pity he died. Oh, yes, I know who it is," he went on, answering the question in Celia's eyes. "I've been making acquaintance with the family portraits: very fond of pictures; almost as fond as I am of cattle; but as I shan't be able to afford both, why----!"

At this moment Inspector Brown came hurriedly through the back hall; he was very hot and wiped the perspiration from his sunburnt face with a red bandana.

"I've news for you, Mr. Jacobs," he cried, as calmly as he could. "Will you come into the sitting-room; will you come at once, please: most important!"

Mr. Jacobs looked at him curiously; then beckoned to Celia.

"You come too, Miss Grant," he said. "You know shorthand--I saw some sc.r.a.ps of paper in your waste-paper basket. You can take any notes we want. Splendid thing, shorthand. Wish I could do it. Now then, Mr.

Brown!"--as he closed the door.

"Well, to put it in a word, Mr. Jacobs, _I've got our man_!"

Mr. Jacobs did not start or show any glad surprise, but looked steadily at Inspector Smith, and at the same time, seemed to be listening; they could all hear Lord Heyton pacing up and down the hall.

"Mind! I don't take any great credit for it, Mr. Jacobs. It was a fluke: just a fluke. I caught him red-handed; found him in the wood with the jewel-case in his hand. Yes, actually in his hand! He must have hidden it and dug it up."

Mr. Jacobs nodded, but said nothing.

"I've got him in the lock-up," said the Inspector, with an air of satisfaction which was pardonable in the circ.u.mstances. "He went very quietly--declared his innocence, of course--well, implied it. I've got notes of what he said. And I searched him."

Mr. Jacobs nodded again, and the Inspector drew from his pocket sundry articles.

"Not much money on him--there's some loose change and this five-pound note. Strange to say--a bit curious and suspicious!--he objected strongly to my taking the note: said that it was worth more than five pounds to him; in fact, he declared that he wouldn't part with it for five thousand and begged me to take care of it and let him change it back for gold." He smiled. Celia flushed hotly, her eyes glowed as they dwelt on the note, and she stifled an exclamation. She listened with parted lips, her breath coming fast. "Something in that, eh, Mr. Jacobs?

Then there are some various letters; several of them from a lady in South America, invoices and letters about engineering. Seems to have come from abroad. And here's this packet. It's sealed, as you see; and I didn't care to open it by myself; thought you and I would open it together. May be important evidence, you know."