Witness to the Deed Part 46

A faint smile dawned upon her lips, and she glanced from him to Edie and back--a look which made the crimson on Edie's cheeks grow deeper, as the girl said quickly:

"Mr Guest came to tell me how hard he is trying to get some news, and what he has done."

"News!" cried Myra excitedly, and her hands were raised toward their visitor, but she let them drop to her sides as her brows contracted.

"He has been telling me that he has--"

"Where is papa--has he come back?" said Myra, coldly ignoring her cousin's proffered information, and a few minutes later Guest shook hands and went away.

"Her pride keeps her silent," he said thoughtfully. "No wonder, but she'd give the world to hear the least bit of news. Poor girl! She'd forgive him almost anything. I must, and will, find it all out before I've done."

But the days grew into weeks, and Guest's visits to Bourne Square were always barren of news, save that he was able to announce that Stratton certainly did go to his chambers now and then. This he found out from the porter's wife, who bitterly bewailed the state into which they were falling.

"You may shake your head at me, Mr Guest," she said, "and it's our secret, for not a word shall ever leave my lips, but let me ask you, is it in the behaviour of a gentleman as has got all his change--"

"Got all his--Oh, I see, you mean his senses."

"Why, of course, sir, to keep his rooms shut up as he does, and never a duster or a brush put inside the door."

"He is afraid of his specimens being disturbed, Mrs Brade."

"Oh, dear, no, sir. It never was his way. I'd got used to his manners and customs--we understood each other, and if I lifted up a bottle or a specimen, whether it was a bird or only a bone, down it went in the same place again, so exact that you couldn't tell it had been moved."

"But Mr Brettison does the same, Mrs Brade."

"Him, sir?" said the woman contemptuously; "that's different. One knows he's a little bit queer. It's nothing new for him to be away months together, and then come back loaded with rubbidge."

"When did you say Mr Stratton came here last?"

"Four days ago, sir, and I went after him, and begged and prayed of him, with a pail and broom in my hand, to let me do him up, but he only pynted downward like a man in a play; and there's his place going to rack and ruin."

"Next time he comes, Mrs Brade," said Guest, slipping a sovereign into her hand, "send your husband on to me directly and try and keep Mr Stratton till he comes back."

"That I will, sir," she cried eagerly; and she kept her word over and over again, but to Guest's intense chagrin always too late.

"Just comes in quickly, sir, runs up to his rooms and gets his letters, and goes out the other way."

This occurred till Guest grew damped, then angry, then damped again; but, in spite of his disheartened state, he manfully resumed his search, for whenever he was disposed to give it up as what he called a bad job, he was forced on by Edie with the greatest eagerness--"to save _her_ life."

There was a time when Guest thought of getting professional help, but a strange dread of something terrible being wrong kept him back from this, and he spent every spare hour in seeking for his friend in every resort, but all in vain. Still he heard of him again and again, and of his calling at the inst.i.tution, where he had a fresh release from duty granted him for a month; and feeling that he was bound to run against his friend sooner or later, Guest relaxed his efforts, and the very next day caught sight of Stratton in a cab, followed it till it turned down one of the Strand _culs-de-sac_, saw him alight at a great house overlooking the river and pay the cabman; and then followed him in, and up a great winding stone staircase to a door on the upper floor.

"She lives there," thought Guest with a feeling of rage in his breast, and, running lightly up the last few steps, he crept un.o.bserved behind Stratton, and laid a hand upon his shoulder just as he was thrusting a latchkey into the lock.

Stratton gave a violent start, but did not turn round. He only uttered a low sigh.

"Very well," he said. "I have been expecting you for weeks."

"Stratton!" cried Guest reproachfully, and his friend turned slowly round so haggard and aged a countenance that Guest was startled.

"You?" said Stratton, with a curious, dazed look around, as if for someone else whom he had expected to see there.

"I thought--I thought--" He paused, and then after an interval: "Well, you have found me. What do you want?"

Guest did not reply for the moment, but looked sharply from his friend to the door and back.

"There is someone in there!" he said to himself; "and for Myra's sake I will know the truth."

Then aloud:

"Take me into your room; we can't talk here."

Stratton made a quick movement before the door as if to keep him back.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

ARCH PLOTTERS.

Stratton opened the door without a word. Guest followed him in, to find himself in a plainly furnished sitting room, beyond which seemed to be the bedroom, while the two windows looked out westward over the Thames.

There was no sign of feminine occupation, and Guest felt staggered.

"Well," said Stratton bitterly, "you do not answer me. What do you want?"

"You to be the same fellow I always knew. Why have you come here?"

"You are inquisitorial, but I'll answer: Because it suits me. My rooms yonder are dark and depressing. I am ill, and want to sit here and breathe the fresh air and think. Is there anything wonderful in that?"

"No; but you need not play hide-and-seek with your friends."

"I have no friends," said Stratton coldly. "I am not the first man who ever took to a solitary life. It suits my whim. Now, please go and leave me to myself."

"Very well," said Guest, after a momentary hesitation; and he rose.

"You have no friends?" he said.

"None."

"Well, I have," said Guest. "You are one of them, and you'll tell me I'm right some day."

Stratton did not take the hand extended to him, and Guest went out by no means disconcerted, but contented and pleased with his day's work.

"Something to tell Edie," he said to himself joyously; and he hurried up to the admiral's to communicate his news.

"That's a step forward," the girl cried eagerly; "now you must go on.

Persevere."

"I will," he said, catching her enthusiasm.