Corner House — Chapter L, Threatened Ruin; Chapter LI, The Wolf is Unchained
CHAPTER L. THREATENED RUIN.
If there was a dark mystery any longer it was confined to the Corner House now.
Hetty was not likely to see any more of Lytton Avenue.
It was fortunate for her that Mamie was so much better in the morning, for as soon as the business of the day had commenced there was a rush of people to Lytton Avenue.
They poured in thick and fast till the law intervened in the person of a posse of officials who represented the Sheriff of London, and then Hetty was permitted to pack up her belongings and those of the child and depart.
Gilbert Lawrence received them with open arms.
Bruce was there, pleased enough to get Hetty from the house where she had suffered so much.
But there was a white despairing look that caused Hetty to forget her own troubles.
The white look did not even vanish when Hetty spoke of her previous night's adventure.
"It was part of a plot to ruin us both," Bruce said moodily.
"I should have been charged with criminal carelessness, which is fatal to a doctor, and you would have been guilty of administering an overdose.
That woman, we know who she was, changed the bottles once and would have changed them again, in fact that is why she returned--the Countess."
"Oh, no," Hetty cried.
"She never could have done that.
Her own child, Bruce?
Fancy a mother sacrificing the life of her own child to gratify a vengeance!
I could not think as badly of her as that."
Bruce smiled wearily.
"Are you quite sure," he asked, "that Mamie is her own child?"
Hetty had no reply for the moment.
That idea had never occurred to her before.
Certainly she had never looked upon the Countess as a model mother; indeed, she had never seen her display what might be called natural affection.
"We shall probably never know," she said after a pause.
"But as to your own trouble, Gordon, dear Gordon, why don't you confide in me?"
The appeal in the thrilling tender voice touched him.
He took the slim figure in his arms and kissed the red lips.
"It's ruin," he said simply, "nothing else.
A little time ago it looked to me as if all my ambitions were to be realised.
And then this crushing misfortune comes upon me.
My practice falls away, and I could not get my money in.
Of course I can't dun patients like mine.
It didn't matter till lately, because the guineas I got from consultations were keeping me going.
But these morning callers call no more.
I was pressed here and there, and I borrowed money."
"Not from those people who advertise, Gordon?"
"I am afraid I was as foolish as that," Bruce said, with a faint smile.
"That sort of people seem to know when one is under the weather.
And there was one very plausible fellow who sent me a confidential letter.
I fell into the trap, and if I can't find £500 tomorrow I am ruined."
Hetty turned pale.
But no word of reproach passed her lips.
It was no time for that.
And she knew by repute the kind of creditor that Gordon had.
She merely asked the name of the obdurate creditor.
"I shall find some way out of it," she said.
"Now go back to your work.
Courage, dearest."
She kissed him tenderly, and pushed him from the room.
Already she had made up her mind exactly what to do.
Mamie must sit down and be good till teatime, after which she should go in the park and feed the swans.
Half an hour later and Hetty was calling upon Izaac Isidore to ask his advice.
Isidore received his visitor warmly.
He had taken a great fancy in his calm way to the pretty, plucky girl who had played so fine a part in the elucidation of a great mystery and a cruel wrong.
He listened to what Hetty had to say.
"I thought you would find a way out," she suggested.
"Well, so I can," Isidore smiled.
"I am not going to offer to lend that young man money, because that would wound his pride.
Besides, there will be no occasion.
Now, can you let me know the name of Bruce's creditor."
Hetty gave the desired information.
There was a peculiar smile on the face of her companion.
"I fancy I can see my way to settle this business," he said.
"In my early days I saw a deal of the shady side of finance--as a lad I was in the office of one of the very worst of them.
I know all about this fellow.
He is going to climb down, he is going to take a reasonable rate of interest, and he is going to give your lover time.
You can make your mind easy about that."
And Isidore pulled at his cigar thoughtfully.
He seemed so strong and confident that Hetty was strangely comforted.
"I thought I could rely upon you," she said gratefully.
"Mr. Isidore, you have taken a great load from my mind."
Isidore finished his cigar, after which he took a frugal omnibus to the City, getting down in the neighbourhood of Cheapside.
He found himself presently in a dingy office off Ironmonger Lane, and face to face with a fat, oily man, who recognized him with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.
"It's about that business of Dr. Gordon Bruce," Isidore said curtly.
"Now, my friend Wolffman, you know me and I know you.
I don't want to ruin you body and bones, but I shall do so unless you listen to reason.
You are going to write to Dr. Bruce, and tell him the matter shall stand over for the present----" "But my principal!"
gasped Wolffman.
"The lady who is paying me----" "To ruin Dr. Bruce," Isidore said, as coolly as if a great light had not suddenly broken in upon him.
"So your friend is in London?"
Wolffman wriggled uneasily.
He wanted to lie badly, but with those eyes upon him he could not do so.
"She was yesterday," he stammered.
"Ah, then, you must dissemble with her.
Tell her any lie you like so long as you let Dr. Bruce alone.
I guessed there was some scheme on hand when I heard that you had written to the Doctor.
Goodbye, Wolffman, and recollect that your ruin or otherwise depends upon yourself."
Isidore went out smiling blandly.
He had made a great discovery.
"The Countess again," he murmured.
"She's in this, as I thought.
And so she is still in London, after all.
How interested Prout will be!"
CHAPTER LI. THE WOLF IS UNCHAINED.
Prout was not surprised to receive the information that his quarry was still in London; indeed, he would have been astonished to know the contrary.
Every port and every outgoing vessel had been carefully watched.
Still, the woman had accomplices somewhere.
It was absurd to believe that in the simple guise of a maid she could have found a hiding place where she would be safe from the grip of the law.
"Find Balmayne, and you'll find her," Prout said.
"If we get on the track this week we shall catch her, if not, she may get away.
Vigilance is bound to be relaxed sooner or later.
That is why delay is on the side of the prisoner."
"And if she does get away?"
Isidore asked.
"Then she will go to some of her earlier haunts on the Continent," said Prout.
"They always do.
We can count upon that with absolute certainty."
"And you know all about her early haunts?"
Prout confessed that up to the present he had but the sketchiest idea of the past of the brilliant adventuress who called herself Countess Lalage.
He was just a little piqued that he should have been so easily gulled, especially as the case was exciting so ominous an amount of public attention.
From all parts of the Continent stories were coming in telling of this and that swindled capitalist.
The woman had flaunted for years with the money she had obtained by fraud.
It was calculated that besides her debts she had got away with nearly a million of money.
It seemed incredible, but there it was, and there it will be again so long as human cupidity and human greed exist.
Maitrank was the only man who was silent over his losses.
He had been a fool, but the money was gone, and there was no reason why he should betray his folly aloud to the world.
"I think I'll go down to Holloway and see René Lalage," Prout said thoughtfully.
"I dare say I shall be able to advise him to tell me something as to the past of the Countess.
If only he were not secure, that woman would have to look to herself.
He believes that the woman betrayed and murdered his brother, and he is a Corsican.
Give him a few hours' start, and the law would be rid of Leona Lalage."
In his cell at Holloway René Lalage was disposed to be communicative.
He spat furiously, his dark eyes gleamed at the mention of the woman.
"She was bad, utterly bad from a child," he said.
"She was a distant connexion of the family.
As a girl she set us all aflame with her beauty.
She was the vainest and most cruel girl in the village.
If she could rob another girl of her lover she was happy, and happier still in flinging him aside after.
She was delighted when she could breed a quarrel between two friends and get them to fight.
"Why she married Leon I cannot say.
Perhaps it was because he bullied her.
But Leon was no saint, and he drank, and he got into gaol, and Leona left him.
For a long time we did not hear what had become of her.
Then I saw her in Paris at a circus.
A little time later and she was mixed up in politics in Rome.
But she got steadily on, living in a more luxurious way till I lost sight of her altogether.
"We heard afterwards that she had gone through a form of marriage with a great nobleman, and that she was living in much splendour in England.
But we know better.
Leon and I had spent our little fortune long ago and sold the farm.
After that we had to live by our wits, as you are aware, Signor Prout.
"Then we both drifted to England, neither of us knowing where the other was.
I met Leon quite by accident.
He said he had found his wife, and that she seemed to be rolling in money.
She managed to lure him to the Corner House, where she kept him prisoner.
But he got some money from her, and part of that he promised me.
I never got it, as you know, and you can guess the reason why.
"Leon was in the way; he had to be got rid of.
If it had to be murder, why that woman would never have hesitated.
We shall find out that it was done some way.
And if ever I get out of this I will track her day by day and hour by hour.
I will lure her into some quiet place, and then I shall plunge my knife into her as she plunged hers into my brother as he lay helpless.
I tell you this, policeman as you are, because I am reckless, and there is blood in my eyes.
Once I am free, my vengeance shall be complete.
You may hang me, but you can't deprive me of that."
He spoke furiously under his breath, with the veins standing out on his forehead.
He seemed to have almost forgotten the presence of Prout.
The next moment he was quiet and smiling again, but Prout was not deceived.
Once that man was free he would never go back on his word.
On the whole, the interview produced nothing of importance.
Nor was Lawrence subsequently able to deduce anything from it.
"The fellow told you really nothing," he said thoughtfully, "at least, nothing that we can put to any practical use.
He has his own vengeance to gratify, and therefore he is not in the least anxious to assist the law."
"He knew more than he would tell," said Prout.
"Of course he did.
I shouldn't wonder if he knew where that woman is hiding.
I am still of opinion that if you can find Balmayne you can find the chief culprit.
If you come to me tomorrow evening I may manage to hammer out something, but my brain is addled for the present.
I have a theory of my own, but it sounds a little too cold at present."
Prout dutifully returned the following evening, but Lawrence had nothing fresh to offer.
He still clung to his new theory, but it was not sufficiently developed for practical use.
And he didn't want to be laughed at, he said.
"I never laugh at your suggestions," Prout replied.
"Well, you're not going to have the chance over this now," said Lawrence.
"If I had my own way----what a row those newsboys are making!"
There were yelling in the street below.
As they passed their raucous cries uprose so that from the babel some sense could be made-- "The Corner House Mystery!
Startling Developments!
René Lalage's Escape From Holloway!
A Warder Seriously Injured!
The Culprit Succeeds In Getting Clear Away!"
