Oswald Langdon Part 20

This was the substance of London advices previous to the arrests.

That these are honest reports Sir Donald has no doubt. There has been time for both Paul and William Dodge to have sailed from Bombay, but Sir Donald is sure that a mistake has been made. The only evidence of Dodge ever having been in Bombay is that his wife wrote him there, while her husband was actually at Paris. Too, he had learned from Mrs. Dodge that for many weeks Paul has been disguised in Calcutta.

The whole matter is much tangled, and Sir Donald doubts the efficiency of those employed to unravel this web.

The Laniers are puzzled and greatly alarmed. Their captors do not deign to explain. To all indignant protests these reserved officials are evasive. Threats are jokingly parried.

The prisoners are separately jailed. No communication is permitted between them. Days pa.s.s without any visits, except for bringing of meals. There is manifested no disposition to engage any of the three in talk upon the subject of their arrests.

William Dodge doubts not that Sir Donald Randolph has betrayed his trust. Though neither of the Laniers nor Dodge had seen him on the day of the arrests, yet all knew he was in Calcutta. The Laniers in disguise frequently had pa.s.sed him and Esther on the streets.

This indefinite waiting is most trying to the nerves of all. Neither Pierre nor Paul knew what action was taken with Dodge. Both imagined that he was being pumped. Neither knew but that the other was undergoing some sort of prying ordeal.

William Dodge wondered that no one talked to him. Perhaps the Laniers had accused him of the Thames murders. The bringing of that suit in his name, death of Alice Webster, dismissal of the case, with subsequent skulking, aliases and disguises, would make a strong circ.u.mstantial chain. Against the charge of murder he could oppose only his own word.

His admitted actions, confession, and motive would be conclusive.

William Dodge sees himself on trial for the murder of Alice Webster, with Pierre and Paul Lanier posing as friends of justice, aiding its commissioned officers in vindication of an outraged law.

His weak impulses of fear and self-preservation settled down into a sort of despairing stupor. He had sent for Sir Donald, but either the message was not delivered, or that aristocrat declined to come. Possibly Sir Donald had been refused admittance to the prison. Mary Dodge had not visited her husband in custody, but perhaps such absence was discreet.

Still, an almost frantic desire to see his family, at times affected him. Then followed brief stoical relapses, again replaced by fitful determination to tell the whole tale, regardless of results.

As weeks pa.s.sed without any formal arraignment or attempt to engage them in talk on the subject of their arrests, neither being permitted to see the other or William Dodge, all inquiries for cause of imprisonment smilingly evaded, the strain on both Pierre and Paul became almost unbearable. Either could face definite crises with resourceful, audacious craft, but how meet indefinitely such waiting, obscure, elusive tactics?

All knew they were ent.i.tled to speedy arraignment, and that such extended custody without criminal charge, aid of counsel, or confronting of witnesses was a serious abridgment of their rights, but why protest?

They were guilty of felonious crimes. Could it advantage these villains to have speedy trials? William Dodge dreaded arraignment. Both Laniers feared the worst. Over against consuming, chafing, hara.s.sing uncertainty, is hesitating, cowering dread.

What could be the object of Calcutta police officials in this queer procedure? Why should these sworn conservators of public rights, ruthlessly trample upon statutory prerogatives? Were their oaths mere formal blasphemies?

There is said to be both letter and spirit in statutes. This is an elastic shift. Affirmative rights may be negatived by inadequate remedies. Police supervision is paradoxical. While not versed in subtle interpretations, it is alive to the right of a little wrong.

At length the reserve of jail officials slightly relaxes. There are vague hints that confessions have been made. The prisoners become wildly curious, but replies to their questions are evasive.

Dodge is frantic. Suggestions that could come only from Lanier treachery startle him. His worst fears are to be realized. Doubtless Pierre and Paul have charged him with the Thames murders. Thoroughly convinced of their perfidy, he sends for head of the police department, and confesses all.

Like tactics have been employed with Pierre and Paul. Much disposed as each feels to seek personal safety in charging guilt upon Dodge, neither knows what the other has divulged. Natural secretiveness and craft make each alertly suspicious. Neither Lanier suspects the other of double dealing as to interests of either. Both take refuge in stoical silence.

Finally father and son are brought together in presence of police officials, and jointly informed as to certain parts of the Dodge confession. They look questioningly at each other, neither making any reply. Both seem to see that this meeting was had to remove any hesitation either may have felt, through ignorance of possible admissions or denials of the other.

For days, varying tactics are employed with these astute criminals, but all such fail to elicit from either even a response. At last this inquisition ceases. One day Pierre and Paul Lanier were discharged.

Greatly mystified at this unexpected move, neither cares to press for explanations.

Without arraignment upon any formal charge, William Dodge still chafes in Calcutta prison.

CHAPTER XIII

THE GREAT SURPRISE

For many weeks, journeying from camp on slope of the Himalayas, without much to vary monotonous daily routine, the survey party arrives at Calcutta. All are paid, and the expedition is disbanded.

To Oswald Langdon, choosing some congenial life pursuit now is a serious problem. Liberal pay for service just ended places him beyond the necessity of immediate employment. His faculties might find agreeable exercise in the legal forum, but this seems interdicted by menacing voices and spectral beckonings. Whichever way he turns there loom past wraiths, restless as ghosts of unburied Grecian slain. These must find soothing specific, ere he tastes elixir of life's destiny.

But how proceed to lay these menacing forms? What has been done to ferret out this crime? Who is suspected? Has the body of Alice Webster been discovered? Possibly the strange disappearances have ceased to excite comment. Even Sir Donald Randolph and Esther may remember these only as unpleasant reminiscences.

Father and mother! What of them?

An unutterable homesickness overwhelms him. Looking with mute appeal toward the sky, a star twinkles with softened light. Blending with ominous shadows of a receding cloud, this tender radiance seems prophetic. Oswald feels a chastened sense, but strange a.s.surance.

Two persons pa.s.s the hotel. The walk and general appearance of both seem familiar. They are engaged in hurried conversation. No other two men ever duplicated such combinations of voice, walk, gesture, and general appearance. His Northfield and London foes are near.

Pierre and Paul did not see Oswald, but hurried by. On the previous day they had quit the prison. The Calcutta press contained no reference to their release. Having arrived in Calcutta only three days ago, Oswald knows nothing of the arrests. He has no desire to meet either of these rascals, but will go about his own affairs. He feels tempted to a.s.sume a disguise and learn something of their purposes, but recoils at such practices.

With all this uncertainty checking and thwarting his aspirations, Oswald cannot easily a.s.sume a false guise. True, at d.i.c.k Bray's, he donned an old hat and duster, but these were expedients of hunted self-defense, discarded soon as aboard ship.

Upon the following day, still undecided what course to pursue, wondering at the Lanier coincidence of the previous evening, Oswald turns a street-corner, where a great surprise meets his gaze.

Standing on the threshold of a business house, facing the street, is Esther Randolph.

The looks of recognition are mutual. Esther steps slightly forward, but suddenly recoils with a look of scared embarra.s.sment.

Controlling all emotion, Oswald pa.s.ses on as if nothing had happened.

Crossing at the next corner to opposite sidewalk, he sees Esther still staring.

Sir Donald joins his daughter, and noting her agitated look, inquires if she is not well.

Esther then relates her strange impression, clinging hard to her father's arm.

Sir Donald a.s.sures his daughter that such queer freaks of imaginary recognition often occur.

She still is nervously uncertain.

Even Sir Donald is not fully satisfied with his own theory.

Without suggestion to Esther, he consults registers of several hotels, but sees nothing to satisfy his curiosity. Concluding that this queer impression of Esther is through some striking similarity between the looks of a pa.s.ser-by and those of that unfortunate youth now no more, Sir Donald dismisses the subject.

Oswald controlled outward show of emotion at sight of the girl whose image had been in view every waking hour since their first meeting at Northfield. That this was Esther Randolph, her look of recognition fully confirmed. Why is she in Calcutta, and where is Sir Donald?

The young man hardly can prevent retracing his steps and again meeting the girl. But his conduct will not permit of such course. Possibly something happened in London to clear the Thames tragedy of all its mystery and to relieve him of any suspicion as being the murderer. But this cannot be. The presence of both Laniers undisguised upon the public streets of Calcutta is proof that justice has been laggard.

Gladly would he face all and end this horrible perplexity but for Langdon honor.

On the following day, Sir Donald and Esther take a drive. Esther excitedly points toward two men pa.s.sing up the side of the street, slightly in advance of the horses. Sir Donald is struck with the appearance of the taller youth.

Just opposite the men, Sir Donald and Esther amazedly look at Oswald.

Their astonished gaze meets his, and he colors perceptibly. Karl Ludwig notices the looks of recognition, and turns around. Oswald impulsively raises his hat, and the conveyance stops.