"I do want that, also," said Richard. "Not much. My illness has run me into debt, and if my mother can let me have a little, I shall be thankful."
"I am sure she will," answered Mr. Carlyle. "You shall have it from me to-night. What has been the matter with you?"
"The beginning of it was a kick from a horse, sir. That was last winter, and it laid me up for six weeks. Then, in the spring, after I got well and was at work again, I caught some sort of fever, and down again I was for six weeks. I have not been to say well since."
"How is it you have never written or sent me your address?"
"Because I dared not," answered Richard, timorously, "I should always be in fear; not of you, Mr. Carlyle, but of its becoming known some way or other. The time is getting on, sir; is that Thorn sure to come?"
"He sent me word that he would, in reply to my note. And--there he is!" uttered Mr. Carlyle, as a ring was heard at the bell. "Now, Richard, come this way. Bring your hat."
Richard complied by putting his hat on his head, pulling it so low that it touched his nose. He felt himself safer in it. Mr. Carlyle showed him into Mr. Dill's room, and then turned the key upon him, and put it in his pocket. Whether this precautionary measure was intended to prevent any possibility of Captain Thorn's finding his way in, or of Richard's finding his way out, was best known to himself.
Mr. Carlyle came to the front door, opened it, and admitted Captain Thorn. He brought him into the clerk's office, which was bright with gas, keeping him in conversation for a few minutes standing, and then asking him to be seated--all in full view of the little window.
"I must beg your pardon, for being late," Captain Thorn observed. "I am half an hour beyond the time you mentioned, but the Herberts had two or three friends at dinner, and I could not get away. I hope, Mr. Carlyle, you have not come to your office to-night purposely for me."
"Business must be attended to," somewhat evasively answered Mr. Carlyle; "I have been out myself nearly all day. We received a communication from London this morning, relative to your affair, and I am sorry to say anything but satisfactory. They will not wait."
"But I am not liable, Mr. Carlyle, not liable in justice."
"No--if what you tell me be correct. But justice and law are sometimes in opposition, Captain Thorn."
Captain Thorn sat in perplexity. "They will not get me arrested here, will they?"
"They would have done it, beyond doubt; but I have caused a letter to be written and dispatched to them, which must bring forth an answer before any violent proceedings are taken. That answer will be here the morning after to-morrow."
"And what am I do to then?"
"I think it is probable there may be a way of checkmating them. But I am not sure, Captain Thorn, that I can give my attention further to this affair."
"I hope and trust you will," was the reply.
"You have not forgotten that I told you at first I could not promise to do so," rejoined Mr. Carlyle. "You shall hear from me to-morrow. If I carry it on for you, I will then appoint an hour for you to be here on the following day; if not--why, I dare say you will find a solicitor as capable of assisting you as I am."
"But why will you not? What is the reason?"
"I cannot always give reasons for what I do," was the response. "You will hear from me to-morrow."
He rose as he spoke; Captain Thorn also rose. Mr. Carlyle detained him yet a few moments, and then saw him out at the front door and fastened it.
He returned and released Richard. The latter took off his hat as he advanced into the blaze of light.
"Well, Richard, is it the same man?"
"No, sir. Not in the least like him."
Mr. Carlyle, though little given to emotion, felt a strange relief--relief for Captain Thorn's sake. He had rarely seen one whom he could so little associate with the notion of a murderer as Captain Thorn, and he was a man who exceedingly won upon the regard. He would heartily help him out of his dilemma now.
"Excepting that they are both tall, with nearly the same color of hair, there is no resemblance whatever between them," proceeded Richard. "Their faces, their figures, are as opposite as light is from dark. That other, in spite of his handsome features, had the expression at times of a demon, but this one's expression is the best part of his face. Hallijohn's murderer had a curious look here, sir."
"Where?" questioned Mr. Carlyle, for Richard had only pointed to his face generally.
"Well--I cannot say precisely where it lay, whether in the eyebrows or the eyes; I could not tell when I used to have him before me; but it was in one of them. Ah, Mr. Carlyle, I thought, when Barbara told me Thorn was here, it was too good news to be true; depend upon it, he won't venture to West Lynne again. This man is no more like that other villain than you are like him."
"Then--as that is set at rest--we had better be going, Richard. You have to see your mother, and she must be waiting in anxiety. How much money do you want?"
"Twenty-five pounds would do, but----" Richard stopped in hesitation.
"But what?" asked Mr. Carlyle. "Speak out, Richard."
"Thirty would be more welcome. Thirty would put me at ease."
"You shall take thirty," said Mr. Carlyle, counting out the notes to him. "Now--will you walk with me to the grove, or will you walk alone?
I mean to see you there in safety."
Richard thought he would prefer to walk alone; everybody they met might be speaking to Mr. Carlyle. The latter inquired why he chose moonlight nights for his visits.
"It is pleasanter for travelling. And had I chosen dark nights, Barbara could not have seen my signal from the trees," was the answer of Richard.
They went out and proceeded unmolested to the house of Justice Hare.
It was past nine, then. "I am so much obliged to you Mr. Carlyle," whispered Richard, as they walked up the path.
"I wish I could help you more effectually, Richard, and clear up the mystery. Is Barbara on the watch? Yes; there's the door slowly opening."
Richard stole across the hall and into the parlor to his mother.
