saw an expression of deep grief upon the face of his friend.
Arthur returned, took his hand, and clasped it warmly.
“You do not understand me, Charles,” he said, “but do not doubt that I understand you, and all your affection.”
Hawkesley made no answer, but when Lygon released his hand, withdrew it, and rose to go to his own room.
He walked towards it slowly, and Lygon hastened away.
But as soon as Arthur had left the hotel, Hawkesley put on his hat.
“Then I, too, have a duty,” he said, in a low voice.
And he returned as speedily as he could to the bureau he had so lately quitted.
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
“You have decided, I perceive, Mr. Hawkesley,” said M. , receiving him with gravity, and at once resuming the conversation, as if it had been interrupted for a moment only.
“How do you know, M. ?”
“Your manner tells me that you have done so. I may almost go further, and believe that the suggestions which I made on the side of forbearance have had their weight with Mr. Lygon and yourself.”
“With myself only.”
“Ah! I regret that. I am sure that you did every justice to the arguments.”
“You would imply that I did not. But, had my brother-in-law been here, you would have found that the strongest reason which we could urge was idle against his conviction of what his duty demands.”
“And that is—”
“That, as the nearest relatives of Mr. Urquhart, we claim all the assistance the police can afford us in tracing the assassin.”
“Such, then, is your demand of me? I have told you that I will be guided by your wishes, but I had hoped a different decision.”
“Such would be Mr. Lygon’s demand, but he has hurried off to Versailles in the hope of being himself able to afford aid in the detection of Adair.”
M. , notwithstanding the gravity of the occasion, could scarcely repress a smile, but it was momentary.
“I cannot, I fear, flatter you with the idea that he will effect anything which the officers themselves fail in achieving. If Ernest Adair is wanted,” he continued, resuming all his habitual composure, “he will be in their hands in a quarter of an hour from my signalling that he is to be taken.”
“He has been discovered, then,” said Hawkesley. And the feeling that came over him was a mixture of gratification and repugnance—the prey was marked down, and it required an effort to let it escape. There was something of natural indignation at the crime, something of the hunter’s fierce instinct, and reluctance to spare. There is more of this in many a sacrifice to justice than we may all care to allow.
“In truth, he can hardly be said to have been well lost sight of. The officers are intelligent, and they were assisted with great zeal by several persons whose enmity Adair had successfully cultivated. Specially foremost in the chase was the mechanic ****, at whose house Urquhart was in the habit of trying certain experiments, and who, with his wife, seems to have been idolatrously devoted to your friend. It is rare for our inferior classes to show such attachment to a foreigner, but Mr. Urquhart’s character was of the kind that inspires the respect of the uneducated.”
“He is in our hands, then?” repeated Hawkesley.
“When you will. I do not press you for any immediate answer—you have not taken half the time which I ventured to offer, nor, I suppose, have you seen the person whom I desired to visit you?”
“No. But it seemed to me that time was important. M. , I wish that Adair may be allowed to escape.”
“No doubt. I could not suppose that you would come to any other decision. But you have surrendered your views in deference to those of your friend?”
“I have not. He has taken his own course, independently of me, and I claim the same liberty. In the interest of all who are concerned, I believe that I am acting best in requesting you to set the miscreant at liberty.”
“We must not put it quite in that way,” said M. , with the faintest curl of the lip. “He is not, in fact, in custody. But we understand one another.”
Hawkesley then repeated a portion of the conversation he had had with Lygon, reserving, however, the threat of the latter to appeal to the Minister.
“I may save you some consideration,” said M , “by remarking that Mr. Lygon’s idea that circumstances have given him any special right to interfere, is not worth discussion. Assuredly, it would have no weight with me. And I may be forgiven if I say that I seem to recognise a sort of vindictiveness towards his wife in his extreme readiness to connect her with the crime that has been committed. The accident which brought the two men together arose but partially from anything bearing on Mrs. Lygon’s history—Mr. Urquhart was bent upon meeting the other, and would have succeeded, unless prevented, whether those documents had been in existence or not.”
“I did not combat his view—I felt it over-strained,” said Hawkesley, “but that matters little. You will, then, ensure Adair’s escape?”
“I almost think that you believe him in increased danger from the efforts of your brother-in-law.”
“Mr. Lygon is a shrewd and resolute man, and I cannot say that he may not obtain such clues as may make it difficult for your officers to hold back.”
“There will be no holding back. But now, Mr. Hawkesley, do you desire to impose any terms upon the man whom you are releasing? They are easily made under such circumstances.”
