CHAPTER IX
What was the explanation? Kitty wondered, much perplexed.
Her father had left Vancouver and had gone to New York--so she gatheredfrom the cablegram. And as he had not been to see her she concluded thathe could not be in England, and that meant in the circumstances that hehad not sailed from New York on the 21st of July as he had intended.Gilbert had suggested to her that her father had been unexpectedlydetained, and at first, as this seemed a probable solution of theproblem, she was inclined to think this was what had occurred.
But, as she reflected further, it did not seem so likely. For supposinghe had been forced to delay his journey for a whole week, and hadexchanged his berth on the _St. Louis_ for one on the boat of the sameline sailing a week later, that is, on the 28th, there would still havebeen plenty of time for him to have arrived in England and to have seenher, as he would have reached Southampton by the 3rd of August, or bythe 4th at latest. And it was now the 9th!
As Kitty tried to puzzle the matter out, her fears, vague, but none theless distressing, were greatly increased, and she began to suspect thatsomething, she knew not what, had happened to her father.
Gilbert, now as anxious as Kitty was, was at Surbiton in the evening tohear what news she had received from Vancouver, and he was as muchbewildered as she by the cablegram from Wallace, Morris Thornton'sagent. All he could do was to remind her, as he had done before, thatthe delay in her father's coming, as well as his silence, might all bepart of his scheme to "surprise" her. But Kitty replied that this madeher father out as unkind in the extreme; she was sure he would neverwillingly put such a strain upon her affection.
"I can't make it out at all," she said, wrinkling her pretty brows. "Itseems very singular that he does not write."
Then an idea struck her. It was that there might be, on a carefulre-reading of the letter she had received from her father, in which hehad said he was returning to England, some words which would afford aclue.
"I shall look at his letter again," she said to Gilbert, and went up toher room to fetch it.
"He writes," remarked the girl, when she had brought it down, "quitepositively 'I will come in a few days after you receive this.' 'A fewdays,' he says. If he had sailed on the 21st of July and came hereto-morrow--why, it would be nearly three weeks, and you can't call thata few days."
"No," assented Gilbert; "but, Kitty, it's hardly three weeks. If he hadsailed on the 21st he would have been here about the 28th or the 29th.You see what's left is more like ten days than three weeks. But what isthe date of your father's letter?"
"July 11th."
"And when did you get it, dear?"
"Oh, Gilbert, don't you know, don't you remember?" asked Kitty, withsome reproach in her voice. "Surely, you cannot have forgotten that Igot it on the very day you told me that you loved me!"
"Ah, sweetheart," quickly replied Gilbert, taking her hand and pressingit tenderly, "I've been so happy that I have lost all count of time--Iforget everything but you, my darling!"
"A pretty speech," exclaimed Kitty, smiling upon him while her handreturned the pressure of his, "and I suppose I must forgive you,Gilbert. But about this letter of father's. Well, it came just sixteendays ago to-day. Now, sixteen days are not exactly a few days, arethey?" she asked, sticking to her point.
"It was on the 24th that his letter came," said Gilbert.
"So you have remembered the date, sir?" cried Kitty.
"I had not really forgotten, dear; but thinking about your father had,for the moment, put it out of mind."
"Oh, yes, I know, Gilbert," she said, a little absently.
He devoured her with eyes of love, but he noticed that her thoughts werenot with him. They had reverted to her father.
"I think I see how it all fits in," she said, after a long pause, "forhis sailing on the 21st. He wrote me on the 11th; that gave him ten daysto wind up his business in Vancouver, so far as he could wind it up, andto get to New York in--five days in Vancouver, and five days for thejourney to New York. If he had sailed on the 21st, as he said to hisagent he would, he would have been here on the 28th or 29th, that is, inthree or four days after his letter. Now three, four, or even let us sayfive days, would be a few days--just as he says in his letter. I cansee he had planned it all out, so as to fit everything in. Don't you seethat, Gilbert?"
"It certainly looks like it, dear."
"Yes, it does. It is very strange that he did not carry out hisintention. I cannot understand it. There is some mystery about it Icannot fathom."
"It seems singular," observed Gilbert; "but I dare say that, if we knewall the circumstances, there would be a perfectly natural explanation,sweetheart. Pray do not give way, my darling," he besought her, but hisown manner was not reassuring.
"I cannot help being anxious," replied Kitty. Then she looked again atthe cablegram from Wallace, and said, "The agent wires, 'Your fathersailed from New York by _St. Louis_ on 21st.' That is quite definite, isit not? And he adds, 'No further advices.' Does that mean that fatherhad advised Mr. Wallace that he had sailed? Oh, Gilbert, I am afraid, Iam afraid! We imagine that the agent knew only of father's intention--anintention, we suppose, he was prevented from carrying out. But thinkwhat it means if we are wrong in imagining this altogether! Suppose thatfather did sail on the 21st! Gilbert, I am afraid," said Kitty, in a lowtone; "I am afraid," she repeated, and the girl's voice suddenly fellinto a whisper. She shivered slightly, and the tears stood in her eyesas she clung to her lover.
Gilbert took her in his arms, soothed and caressed her. In the course oftheir conversation he had tried to put the best construction on MorrisThornton's non-appearance, but at heart he felt, like Kitty, that therewas good ground for misgiving. And to have told the girl what he knew,but she did not know, of the serious condition of her father, would beonly to add to her trouble. As for himself, that knowledge made himappreciate the gravity of the matter even more than she did. Heresolved, therefore, to set inquiries on foot at once, and furthermoreto set to work vigorously himself to probe the thing to the bottom.
Next morning, accordingly, he went to the office of the American Line inLondon--the line of steamships to which the _St. Louis_ belonged--andasked the clerk who waited on him for a list of the passengers who hadsailed from New York by that vessel, on July 21st.
The list was handed to him immediately. A cursory glance showed him thatthe name of Morris Thornton was on it.
Dumfounded, he stared at the list, saying nothing. His surprise was somarked that the clerk could not help noticing it, and was surprised inhis turn.
"It does not mean," said Gilbert at length, "at least, always, Isuppose, that because an individual's name is on the steamer list hemust necessarily have sailed, does it? I mean that he might be detainedat the last moment."
"That, of course, is possible," replied the clerk. "The list is printedsome little while before the ship sails. But I can tell you if there wasany one on the list who in the end did not sail, if that is what youwish to know."
"That is very kind of you," said Gilbert, but he paused, reflecting thata question of this kind was a somewhat delicate one. And he was awarethat the clerk was eyeing him curiously, almost suspiciously.
"Perhaps," said the clerk, "it would be simpler and better if you toldme about whom you desire to ask. Is there any name on the list in whichyou are particularly interested?"
Gilbert noticed that the clerk was studying his face with markedintentness, and he wondered why; he understood later.
"I see on the list," said Gilbert at length, "the name of Mr. MorrisThornton."
"Mr. Morris Thornton!" exclaimed the clerk, whose tone was such asshowed there was something out of the common attaching to the name.
"Yes, Mr. Thornton," Gilbert went on. "Can you tell me if he sailed bythe _St. Louis_ on the 21st?"
"Are you a friend of Mr. Thornton's?" inquired the clerk, in an eagervoice.
"In a sense, yes," replied Gilbert. "But you have not answered myquestion."
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"In a sense," said the clerk, repeating Gilbert's first words; then hecontinued, "I have a most special reason for asking if you are a friendof his. What do you mean, sir, by saying that you are a friend of his ina sense?"
"Well, I am engaged to his daughter. She expected to see her father somedays ago, but he has not arrived. She knew he intended sailing from NewYork on the 21st, though she only knew of it yesterday. She becamealarmed on not seeing him or hearing from him, and she cabled to hisagent in Vancouver, and in that way learned that her father was to havesailed on the 21st. She asked me to make inquiries. I shall be glad ifyou can help me. Can you tell me if Mr. Thornton sailed on the _St.Louis_ or not?"
"Mr. Thornton," answered the clerk, in a queer, half-frightened voice,"did sail by the _St. Louis_!"
"What! Are you sure of that?"
"Absolutely."
Gilbert had a staggering sense that he was on the edge of someextraordinary affair, and he gazed earnestly at the clerk, who looked athim with corresponding intentness.
"Have you anything more to tell me?" asked Gilbert.
"I think it would be better if you spoke to the manager," said theclerk. "Would you mind coming in to see him?"
"Not at all; but why?"
"Well, you are not the only one who has been making inquiries about Mr.Thornton--I may tell you that; but, please come into the manager'sroom."
Gilbert saw the manager, and explained his errand.
"I am afraid," said the manager, speaking in an impressive voice, "thatsomething may have happened to Mr. Thornton; indeed, I have very littledoubt of it."
"Why?"
"Mr. Thornton did sail from New York as he intended; not only so, helanded at Southampton in due course, and came on to London on the 29thof last month. On that day he took a room at the Law Courts Hotel inHolborn. These are the facts."
"How do you know he went to the Law Courts Hotel, may I ask?"
"I have it from the hotel people themselves, and why they told me of ityou will presently understand. It appears that Mr. Thornton was a gooddeal of an invalid; at any rate, shortly after he got to his hotel hewas taken very seriously ill--he had a violent heart-attack of the mostalarming character. He fell down in the hall of the hotel and becameunconscious. He was immediately conveyed to his bed and a doctor wassummoned."
"Ah," said Gilbert, interrupting him, "I knew that he had a weak heart.But, pardon me, pray continue."
"Mr. Thornton was successfully treated by the doctor, and after somehours recovered, but he remained in bed for the rest of that day andmost of the next."
"He got better," said Gilbert, beginning to breathe more freely. "Thatis good news."
"Oh, but wait," said the manager. "I have not finished yet. He stoppedin bed at his hotel most of the next day, as I have already toldyou--that was the 30th, you will remember. He improved so much that hetold the attendant who had been detailed to look after his comfort, thathe felt quite equal to getting up, and though the attendant remonstratedwith him he persisted and did get up. You follow me, Mr. Eversleigh?"
"Perfectly," replied Gilbert, who saw that something very unusual wascoming, and was most eager to hear the end of the story.
"Mr. Thornton had dinner at the _table d'hote_--he was as well as that,you understand. After dinner he sat for quite a time chatting with twoor three of the other guests, and, rather late in the evening, heannounced his intention of going out for a short stroll; he said thefresh air would do him good. And he did go out."
The manager paused, and looked at Gilbert significantly.
"He went out," he resumed, "but he has never returned."