CHAPTER XXXIV
"James Russell! I thought so," said Gilbert, tingling with excitement.
"Is this of importance to you?" the Deputy asked Gilbert.
"Of the utmost importance."
The Deputy smiled, and showed he was well pleased; but he asked no morequestions, save one only.
"Is there anything else about which you wish to interrogate Ucelli?" heinquired.
"Yes. I should like to know if he is aware where Silwood, _alias_Russell, went to in England?"
"London," said the Syndic; "but he intended going to Americaeventually."
"That is all, I think, at present," said Gilbert to Signor Vinci.
"Should some other point occur to you later," suggested the Deputy, "youwill have an opportunity of putting it to him in Rome, whither we mustproceed with all speed."
"I had thought of setting out for London at once," said Gilbert. "Theinformation I have obtained should be acted on without delay. Besides,my father is very ill."
"If you could spare one day! You are a witness to the confession ofUcelli, and I desire you to make a deposition with respect to it beforethe Minister of Justice himself."
"I certainly owe you as much as that," acquiesced Gilbert.
Thereafter, the Deputy, leaving the bound man in Gilbert's charge, wentout of the Syndic's house, to return in a short time with a couple ofcivil officers, who took Ucelli to prison. The Deputy now informedGilbert that he had given orders to open up the reputed grave ofSilwood, and late that evening they heard a coffin had been taken up andfound to be filled with stones.
Next day the Deputy and Gilbert were in Rome, recounting to the Ministerof Justice what had taken place. A deposition was drawn up and signed byGilbert; at the same time, he acknowledged very heartily his greatobligations to the Minister and the Deputy.
"Not at all," said the Minister; "you have really conferred a greatfavour on us. But there is one thing I should like to ask you, if it isnot indiscreet."
"And that is, signor?"
"We know why Ucelli entered into this conspiracy with Silwood; it wasbecause of the fifty thousand liras Silwood gave him. But we do not knowwhat induced or compelled Silwood to act as he did. I can see, ofcourse, that in all probability he is a great criminal. For that matter,the conspiracy itself was a crime of the gravest character. If I couldarrest this Silwood, he would receive a heavy sentence, you may besure."
While his superior was speaking, the Deputy had a little smile on hisgrim face. He had wished to ask Gilbert the question now put to him bythe Minister, but, feeling tolerably certain of the truth, hadrefrained. Still, he listened eagerly to Gilbert's reply.
"Silwood is an absconder and a forger," said Gilbert. "To conceal hiscrimes, to cover up his tracks, he planned and carried out, withUcelli's help, this infamous plot. There, that is all."
"And more than enough!" exclaimed the Minister. "You will, as soon asyou return to England, proceed to have this man hunted down?"
"It will be the one object of my life until it is accomplished," saidGilbert, emphatically.
On his way back to London, Gilbert pondered what he should next do, andreflected on the occurrences of the last two or three days. The wholescheme of Silwood was now tolerably plain. To begin with, it was evidentSilwood had long been leading a double life. There were the wife andchild and the house at Stepney on the one hand; and, on the other, theprivate chambers in Lincoln's Inn. In the latter he was Cooper Silwood,solicitor; in Stepney he was James Russell, workman. And now Gilbertrecalled very vividly the story told by the waster, the poor human wreckwho spoke like a gentleman, the story of the workman seen issuing in thedead of night from the iron gate of the Stone Buildings' end of ChanceryLane.
"Of course, it was Silwood," argued Gilbert; "it must have been he. Thewaster said the workman was flurried, went away hurriedly, but returnedin half an hour. What does that mean, taken in connection with the factthat next morning Silwood left London? It must have been no light thingwhich made _him_ flurried. He intended going to Stepney, started, andthen changed his mind. Not like _him_ either, to change his mind inthat way. Something must have happened."
Then the thought came leaping into his mind which explained everything.
"It must have been because Morris Thornton was lying dead in Silwood'sroom--that accounts for his agitation and indecision."
After that he asked himself the inevitable question--
"Had Silwood said or done anything to cause such a shock to Thornton askilled him? If so, what?"
But this was a question he could not answer now. The key to the mysterylay with Silwood, and it was possible, even probable, he had made goodhis escape to America, if it was to America he was gone. America was awide word, Gilbert mused, but the arm of Justice was long. Yet thesearch all over America--was that not like looking for a needle in ahaystack? And the time which would almost certainly be occupied in thequest--what might not happen in the interim?
With these questions, and such as these, Gilbert was distracted duringhis journey, and the news which met him on his arrival in London madehis heart heavy as lead.
His brother Ernest was at the station when his train steamed in. Gilbertobserved he looked pale and sad.
"How is father?" were Gilbert's first words.
"Oh, it is terrible!" exclaimed Ernest.
"Is he worse?"
"Yes, he is worse. He will never be himself again, I fear. He is out ofhis mind."
"Out of his mind!" cried Gilbert, but in his heart he was saying it wasno wonder that his father had become insane, considering all he hadborne during the past two months.
"Isn't it dreadful?"
"It may be only temporary," Gilbert suggested.
"The doctors who have seen him do not give us much hope."
"You have had specialists called in?"
"Certainly."
"What form does his trouble take?"
"He is not at all violent; indeed, he is gentleness itself. But hismemory seems a blank, and he does not speak except to say one sentence,and it breaks one's heart to hear him say it."
"What does he say?"
"He asks, 'What o'clock is it?' but he does not know what he says. Ifyou tell him the time, he does not comprehend you. That was how motherfound his trouble out. One night he had a sort of fit in bed; when itpassed he asked, 'What o'clock is it?' and mother told him. He askedagain, 'What o'clock is it?' and mother again told him. But heimmediately inquired once more, 'What o'clock is it?' and then she beganto surmise something was very wrong with him."
"Poor mother!" exclaimed Gilbert. "How is she?"
"She is a brave woman, and is bearing up wonderfully. Well, she waitedtill morning, and then sent me for a doctor, who, after seeing father,said his brain was affected. I got the best specialists to see him, andthey declared his mind had given way, so far as they could judge, fromoverstrain. It seems that the gentle kind of melancholy madness whichafflicts him is incurable. Isn't it sad?"
"Very sad; but doctors are sometimes wrong, and we must hope for thebest. Is he at Ivydene?"
"Yes; with a nurse. The doctors thought it was prudent to have a nurse,though, really, he does not require one. He is just like a child. I havenot allowed news of his trouble to get about."
The brothers now got into a hansom, and drove to Gilbert's chambers inthe Temple. Gilbert could see that Ernest had more to tell him, and halfguessed what it was. In the circumstances, too, Gilbert thought Ernestmust now be told the true position of the firm of Eversleigh, Silwoodand Eversleigh.
"When your letter to father came," continued Ernest, "he was already inthe condition he now is, so I opened and read it. As I wired you, I wascompletely bewildered by what you wrote, but tried to puzzle out yourmeaning. Without the key, however, I could not succeed."
"I'll disclose everything to you, Ernie," said Gilbert.
"And, Gilbert, there is something more. The doctors said father'strouble came from his brain having been overstrained. I believe
they areright, and I'll tell you why. I had to make out the position of our firmwith respect to the securities of one of our clients, Mr. ArchibaldJohnstone, and, so far as I can see, we have not got these securities;at any rate, I cannot lay my hands on them anywhere in the office. Iwent to Archer Martin, the accountant, hoping he might throw some lighton the subject; but he said I had better ask you, as you would know.Gilbert, Gilbert, I don't know what to think, but it looks to me as ifthere's something very serious in this business."
"Yes, Ernie, there is," said Gilbert; "it is as serious as it can be.It is so serious that I can almost feel glad father is not in his rightmind."
"Gilbert!"
"It is true. Now let me tell you all I know. The main thing is thatCooper Silwood robbed the firm of a large sum of money. He absconded toCamajore, in Italy, where, in collusion with the Syndic of the place hegave out that he was dead."
Ernest stared at his brother wildly.
"What are you saying?" he cried. "Silwood robbed the firm! absconded toItaly! pretended he was dead!"
"Exactly. But I must begin at the beginning, and tell you the wholestory in detail."
When he had heard it all, Ernest was thunderstruck.
"This Silwood must be a devil!" he cried.
"Ay, a devil in cleverness, in ingenuity, in resource, in cunning, andwe have to encounter and defeat these qualities in him. He must befound."
"The police?"
"Can we afford to let them know our affairs?"
"No; I suppose not. Would you employ private detectives?"
"Yes; there are very excellent private detective agencies in America,such as Pinkerton's. As I have already told you, I have a man in Englandfollowing up the trail of Silwood, whom he knows only as James Russell.He may have something to report."
There were several letters lying on Gilbert's table. Owing to theurgency of his talk with Ernest, he had not looked at them; he now didso, hoping that one of them was from the detective, and this hope provedwell-founded.
The detective wrote that he had discovered in the list of steeragepassengers, kept by one of the Liverpool shipping firms, an entry of"James Russell, wife, and child." From inquiries he had made, he hadlearned that the child was a cripple; this fact, together with the name,James Russell, and the numbers in the party, agreed with what he hadbeen told of the Russells who had lived in No. 99, Douglas Street,Stepney, so that he had very little doubt that he was on the righttrail. He went on to state that the Russells had sailed for New York andhad arrived there, as he had ascertained from his correspondent in thatcity. On landing, Russell had declared he was an immigrant, and havingbeen informed that by American law it was necessary to show he waspossessed of a certain stipulated sum of money, had produced it, and wasallowed to enter the country. Russell had also declared his intention togo West, mentioning St. Paul in the State of Minnesota as his probabledestination. These facts, the detective added, were communicated to himby cable, and he asked for further instructions.
Gilbert handed the letter to Ernest, remarking here was some good news.
"Oh, if we can only catch Silwood soon!" cried Ernest, after perusingthe letter.