CHAPTER XIX.
A SHOCK FOR SIR LUCIUS.
They lingered but a moment at the house, standing irresolutely by thesteps. Madge did not invite Nevill to stop, which suited him in hispresent mood. He pressed the girl's cold hand and strode away into thedarkness. His thoughts were not pleasant, and there was a sneering smileon his face.
"I have won her," he reflected. "Won her at last! She will be my wife.But it is not a victory to be proud of--not worth the infamy I've wadedthrough. She consented because she has been hard driven--because Icompelled her father to put the screws on. How calmly she told me thatshe did not love me! I can read her like a book. I hoped she hadforgotten Jack, but I see now that she cares for him as much as ever.Oh, how I hate him! Is his influence to ruin my life? I ought to besatisfied with the blow I have dealt him, but if I get a chance tostrike another--"
A harsh laugh finished the sentence, and he hit out viciously with hisstick at a cat perched on a garden wall.
A Waterloo train conveyed him cityward, and, avoiding the haunts of hisassociates, he dined at a restaurant in the Strand. It was eight o'clockwhen he went to his rooms in Jermyn street, intending to change hisclothes and go to a theatre. A card lay inside the door. It bore SirLucius Chesney's name, and Morley's Hotel was scribbled on the corner ofit. Nevill scowled, and a look that was closely akin to fear came intohis eyes.
"So my uncle is back!" he muttered. "I knew he would be turning up sometime, but it's rather a surprise all the same. He wants to see me, ofcourse, and I don't fancy the interview will be a very pleasant one.Well, the sooner it is over the better. It will spoil my sleep to-nightif I put it off till to-morrow."
He dressed hurriedly and went down to Trafalgar Square. Sir Lucius hadjust finished dinner, and uncle and nephew met near the hotel office.They greeted each other heartily, and Sir Lucius invited the young manupstairs to his room. He was in a good humor, and expressed hisgratification that Nevill had come so promptly.
"I want a long chat with you, my boy," he said. "Have you dined?"
"Yes."
Sir Lucius lighted a cigar, and handed his case to Nevill.
"Been out of town this summer?" he asked.
"The usual thing, that's all--an occasional run down to Brighton, amonth at country houses, and a week's shooting on the Earl of Runnymede'sScotch moor."
"London agrees with you. I believe you are a little stouter."
"And you are looking half a dozen years younger, my dear uncle. How isthe liver?"
"It ought to be pretty well shaken to pieces, from the way I've trottedit about. It hasn't troubled me for months, I am glad to say. I've hada most enjoyable holiday, and a longer one than I intended to take. Istopped in Norway seven weeks, and then went to the Continent. I did theGerman baths, Vienna and a lot of other big cities, and came to Paris.There I met an old Anglo-Indian friend, and he dragged me down to theRiviera for a month. But there is no place like home. I've been in townonly a couple of hours--crossed this morning. And to-morrow I'm off toPriory Court."
"So soon?"
"Yes; I can't endure your fogs."
There was an awkward pause. Nevill struck a match and put it to hiscigar, though it did not need relighting. Sir Lucius coughed, andstirred nervously in his chair.
"You remember that little matter I wrote you about," he began. "Have youdone anything?"
"My dear uncle, I have left nothing undone that I could think of,"Nevill replied; "but I am sorry to say that I have met with no successwhatever. It was a most difficult undertaking, after so many years."
"I feared it would be. You didn't advertise?"
"No; you told me not to do that."
"Quite right. I wished to avoid all publicity. But what steps did youtake?"
"I made careful inquiries, interviewed some of the older school ofartists, and searched London and provincial directories for some yearsback. Then I consulted a private detective. I put the matter in hishands. He worked on it for a couple of months, and finally said thatit was too much for him. He could not discover a trace of either yoursister or her husband, and he suggested that they probably emigratedto America or Australia years ago."
"That is more than possible," assented Sir Lucius; "and it is likelythat they are both dead. But they may have left children, and for theirsakes--". He broke off abruptly, and sighed. "I should like to have atalk with your private detective, if he is a clever fellow," he added.
"He is clever enough," Nevill replied slowly, "but I am afraid youwould have to go a long distance to find him. He went to America a weekago to collect evidence for a divorce case in one of the Western States."
"Then he will hardly be back for months," said Sir Lucius. "No matter.I think sometimes that it is foolish of me to take the thing up. But whena man gets to my age, my boy, he is apt to regret many episodes in hispast life that seemed proper and well-advised at the time. I am convincedthat I was too harsh with your aunt. Poor Mary, she was my favoritesister until--"
He stopped, and his face hardened a little at the recollection.
"I wish I could find her," said Nevill.
"I am sure you do, my boy. I am undecided what steps to take next. Itwould be a good idea to stop in town for a couple of days and consulta private inquiry bureau. But no, not in this weather. I will let thematter rest for the present, and run up later on, when we get a spellof sunshine and cold."
"I think that is wise. Meanwhile I am at your service."
"Thank you. Oh, by the way, Victor, you must have incurred someconsiderable expense in my behalf. Let me write you a check."
"There is no hurry--I don't need the money," Nevill answered,carelessly. "I will look up the account and send it to you."
"Or bring it with you when you come down to Priory Court for Christmas,if I can induce you to leave town."
"I shall be delighted to come, I assure you."
"Then we'll consider it settled."
Sir Lucius lighted a fresh cigar and rose. His whole manner had changed;he chuckled softly, and his smile was pleasant to see.
"I have something to show you, my boy," he said. "It is the richestfind that ever came my way. Ha, ha! not many collectors have ever beenso fortunate. I know where to pry about on the Continent, and I havemade good use of my holidays. I sent home a couple of boxes filled withrare bargains; but this one--"
"You will be rousing the envy of the South Kensington Museum if youkeep on," Nevill interrupted, gaily; he was in high spirits because therecent disagreeable topic had been shelved indefinitely. "What is it?"he added.
"I'll show you in a moment, my boy. It will open your eyes when you seeit. You will agree that I am a lucky dog. By gad, what a stir it willcause in art circles!"
Sir Lucius crossed the room, and from behind a trunk he took a flatleather case. He unlocked and opened it, his back screening theoperation, and when he turned around he held in one hand a canvas,unframed, about twenty inches square; the rich coloring and the outlinesof a massive head were brought out by the gaslight.
"What do you think of that?" he cried.
Nevill approached and stared at it. His eyes were dilated, his lipsparted, and the color was half-driven from his cheeks, as if by a suddenshock. He had expected to see a bit of Saracenic armor, made inBirmingham, or a cleverly forged Corot. But this--
"I don't wonder you are surprised," exclaimed Sir Lucius. "Congratulateme, my dear boy."
"Where did you get it?" Nevill asked, sharply.
"In Munich--in a wretched, squalid by-street of the town, with as manysmells as Cologne. I found the place when I was poking about oneafternoon--a dingy little shop kept by a Jew who marvelously resembledCruikshank's Fagin. He resurrected this picture from a rusty old safe,and I saw its value at once. It had been in his possession for severalyears, he told me; he had taken it in payment of a debt. The Jew waspretty keen on it--he knew whose work it was--but in the end I got itfor eleven hundred pounds. You know what it is?"
"An undoubted Rembrandt!"
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"Yes, the finest Rembrandt in existence. No others can compare with it.Look at the brilliancy of the pigments. Observe the masterful drawing.See how well it is preserved. It is a prize, indeed, my boy, and worthdouble what I paid for it. It will make a sensation, and the NationalGallery will want to buy it. But I wouldn't accept five thousand poundsfor it. I shall give it the place of honor in my collection."
Sir Lucius paused to get his breath.
"You don't seem to appreciate it," he added. "Remember, it is absolutelyunknown. Victor, what is the matter with you? Your actions are verystrange, and the expression of your face is almost insulting. Do youdare to insinuate--"
"My dear uncle, will you listen to me for a moment?" said Nevill."Prepare yourself for a shock. I fear that the picture is far betterknown than you think. Indeed, it is notorious."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that this Rembrandt, which you purchased in Munich, is theidentical one that was stolen some months ago from Lamb and Drummond,the Pall Mall dealers. The affair made a big stir."
"Impossible!"
"It is only too true. Did you read the papers while you were away?"
"No; I scarcely glanced at them. But I can't believe--"
"Wait," said Nevill. From a pocket-book he produced a newspaperclipping, which he handed silently to his uncle. It contained an accountof the robbery.
Sir Lucius read to the end. Then his cheeks swelled out, and turned fromred to purple; his eyes blazed with a hot anger.
"Good God!" he exclaimed, "was ever a man so cruelly imposed upon? It isa d--nable shame! You are right, Victor. This is the stolen Rembrandt!"
"Undoubtedly. I can't tell you how sorry I feel for you." Nevill'sexpression was most peculiar as he spoke, and the semblance of a smilehovered about his lips.
"What is to be done?" gasped his uncle, who had flung the canvas ona chair, and was stamping savagely about the room. "It is clear asdaylight. The thieves disposed of the painting in Munich, to my lyingrascal of a Jew. Damn him, I wish I had him here!"
"Under the peculiar circumstances, my dear uncle, I should venture tosuggest--"
"There is only one course open. This very night--no, the first thingto-morrow morning--I will take the picture to Lamb and Drummond's andtell them the whole story. I can't honorably do less."
"Certainly not," assented Nevill; it was not exactly what he had beenon the point of proposing, but he was glad that he had not spoken.
"I won't feel easy until it is out of my hands," cried Sir Lucius. "Goodheavens, suppose I should be suspected of the theft! Ah, that infamousscoundrel of a Jew! The law shall punish him as he deserves!"
Rage overpowered him, and he seemed in danger of apoplexy. There wasbrandy on the table, and he poured out a glass with a shaking hand.Nevill watched him anxiously.