CHAPTER XXI
TWO MONTHS PASS
Unwilling to give up prosecuting the Vrain case while the slightest hoperemained of solving its mystery, Lucian sought out Link, the detective,and detailed all the evidence he had collected since the constitutedauthorities had abandoned the matter. Although Mrs. Vrain and Ferrucihad exculpated themselves entirely, Denzil thought that Link, with hisprofessional distrust and trained sense of ferreting out secrets, mightdiscern better than himself whether such exculpations were warranted bycircumstances.
Link heard all that Denzil had to tell him with outward indifference andinward surprise; for while unwilling, through jealousy of an amateur, toflatter the barrister by a visible compliment, yet he silently admittedthat Denzil had made his discoveries and profited by them with muchacuteness. What annoyed him, however, was that the young man had pushedhis inquiries to the uttermost limit; and that there was no chance ofany glory accruing to himself by prosecuting them further. Still, on thepossibility that something might come of it, he went over the groundalready traversed by the amateur detective.
"You should have told me of your intentions when Miss Vrain spoke to youin the first instance," he said to Lucian by way of rebuke. "As it is,you have confused the clues so much that I do not know which one totake."
"It seems to me that I have pursued each clue until fate or circumstanceclipped it short," retorted Lucian, nettled by this injustice. "Mrs.Vrain has defended herself successfully, much in the same way as CountFerruci has done. Your only chance of getting at the truth lies indiscovering Wrent; and unless Rhoda helps you there, I do not see howyou can trace the man."
"I am of a different opinion," said Link, lying freely to conceal hisdoubts of success in the matter. "As you have failed through lack ofexperience, I shall attempt to unravel this skein."
"You attempted to do so before, and gave it up because of the tangle,"said Lucian with quiet irony. "And unless you discover more than I havedone, you will dismiss the matter again as impossible. So far as I cansee, the mystery of Vrain's death is more of a mystery than ever, andwill never be solved."
"I'll make one last attempt to unriddle it, however," answered Link,with a confidence he was far from feeling, "but, of course--not beingone of your impossible detectives of fiction--I may fail."
"You are certain to fail," said Lucian decisively, and with thisdisheartening prophecy he left Link to his task of--apparently--spinningropes of sand.
Whether it was that Link was so doubtful of the result as to extendlittle energy in the search, or whether he really found the taskimpossible of accomplishment, it is difficult to say, but assuredly hefailed as completely as Lucian predicted. With outward zeal he set towork; interviewed Lydia and the Italian, to make certain that theirdefence was genuine; examined the Pegall family, who were dreadfullyalarmed by their respectability being intruded upon by a commondetective, and obtained a fresh denial from Baxter & Co.'s saleswomanthat Ferruci was the purchaser of the cloak. Also he cross-questionedMrs. Bensusan and her sharp handmaid in the most exhaustive manner, anddid his best to trace out the mysterious Wrent who had so much to dowith the matter. He even called on Dr. Jorce at Hampstead, to satisfyhimself as to the actual time of Ferruci's arrival in that neighbourhoodon Christmas Eve. But here he received a check, for Jorce had goneabroad on his annual holiday, and was not expected back for a month.
In fact, Link did all that a man could do to arrive at the truth, onlyto find himself, at the end of his labours, in the same position asLucian had been. Disgusted at this result, he threw up his brief, andcalled upon Diana and Denzil, with whom he had previously made anappointment, to notify them of his inability to bring the matter to asatisfactory conclusion.
"There is not the slightest chance of finding the assassin of Mr.Vrain," said Link, after he had set forth at length his late failures."The more I go into the matter the more I see it."
"Yet you were so confident of doing more than I," said Lucian quietly.
Link turned sulkily, after the fashion of a bad loser.
"I did my best," he retorted gloomily. "No man can do more. Some crimesare beyond the power of the law to punish for sheer lack of proof. Thisis one of them; and, so far as I can see, this unknown assassin will bepunished on Judgment Day--not before."
"Then you don't think that Signor Ferruci is guilty?" said Diana.
"No. He has had nothing to do with the matter; nor has Mrs. Vrainbrought about the death in any way."
"You cannot say who killed my father?"
"Not for certain, but I suspect Wrent."
"Then why not find Wrent?" asked Diana bluntly.
"He has hidden his trail too well," began Link, "and--and----"
"And if you did find him," finished Denzil coolly, "he might provehimself guiltless, after the fashion of Mrs. Vrain and Ferruci."
"He might, sir; there is no knowing. But since you think I have done solittle, Mr. Denzil, let me ask you who it is you suspect?"
"Dr. Jorce of Hampstead."
"Pooh! pooh!" cried Link, with contempt. "He didn't kill the man--howcould he, seeing he was at Hampstead on that Christmas Eve midnight, asI found out from his servants?"
"I don't suspect him of actually striking the blow," replied Lucian,"but I believe he knows who did."
"Not he! Dr. Jorce has too responsible a position to mix himself up in acrime from which he gains no benefit."
"Why! what position does he hold?"
"He is the owner of a private lunatic asylum. Is it likely that a manlike him would commit a murder?"
"Again I deny that he did commit the crime; but I am certain, from thevery fact of his friendship with Ferruci, that he knows more than hechooses to tell. Why should the Italian be intimate with the owner of aprivate asylum--with a man so much beneath him in rank?"
"I don't know, sir. But if you suspect Dr. Jorce you had better see himwhen he comes back from his holidays--in a month."
"Where is he now?"
"In Italy, and the Count has gone with him."
Diana and Lucian looked at one another, and the former spoke: "That isstrange," she said. "I agree with Mr. Denzil, it is peculiar, to say theleast of it, that an Italian noble should make a bosom friend of a manso far inferior to him in position. Don't you think so yourself, Mr.Link?"
"Madam," said Link gravely, "I think nothing about it, save that youwill never find out the truth. I have tried my best, and failed; and Iam confident enough in my own power to say that where I have failed noone else will succeed. Miss Vrain, Mr. Denzil, I wish you good-day."
And with this bragging speech, which revealed the hurt vanity of theman, Mr. Link took his departure. Lucian held his peace, for in the faceof this desertion of a powerful ally he did not know what to say. Dianawalked to the sitting-room window and watched Link disappear into thecrowd of passers-by. At that she heaved a sigh, for with him--shethought--went every chance of learning the truth, since if he, anexperienced person in such matters, turned back from the quest, therecould assuredly be no help in any one not professional, and with lesstrained abilities.
Then she turned to Lucian.
"There is nothing more to be done, I suppose," said she, sighing again.
"I am afraid not," replied Lucian dismally, for he was quite of heropinion regarding the desertion of the detective.
"Then I must leave this unknown assassin to the punishment of God!" saidDiana quietly. "And I can only thank you for all you have done for me,Mr. Denzil, and say"--she hesitated and blushed, then added, with someemphasis--"say _au revoir_."
"Ah!" ejaculated Denzil, with an indrawn breath of relief, "I am gladyou did not say good-bye."
"I don't wish to say it, Mr. Denzil. I have not so many friends in theworld that I can afford to lose so good a one as yourself."
"I am content," said Lucian softly, "that you should think of me as yourfriend--for the present."
His meaning was so unmistakable that Diana, still blushing, and somewhatconfused, hastened to prev
ent his saying more at so awkward a moment."Then as my friend I hope you will come and see me at Berwin Manor."
"I shall be delighted. When do you go down?"
"Within a fortnight. I must remain that time in town to see my lawyerabout the estate left by my poor father."
"And see Mrs. Vrain?"
"No," replied Diana coldly. "Now that my father is dead, Mrs. Vrain isnothing to me. Indirectly, I look upon her as the cause of his death,for if she had not driven both of us out of our own home, my fathermight have been alive still. I shall not call on Mrs. Vrain, and I donot think she will dare to call on me."
"I'm not so sure of that," rejoined Lucian, who was well acquainted withthe lengths to which Mrs. Vrain's audacity would carry her; "but let usdismiss her, with all your other troubles. May I call on you againbefore you leave town?"
"Occasionally," replied Diana, smiling and blushing; "and you will comedown to Berwin Manor when I send you an invitation?"
"I should think so," said Denzil, in high glee, as he rose to depart;"and now I will say----"
"Good-bye?" said Miss Vrain, holding out her hand.
"No. I will use your own form of farewell--_au revoir_."
Then Lucian went out from the presence of his beloved, exulting that shehad proved so kind as not to dismiss him when she no longer required hisservices. In another woman he would not have minded such ingratitude,but had Diana banished him thus he would have been miserable beyondwords. Also, as Lucian joyfully reflected, her invitation to BerwinManor showed that, far from wishing to lose sight of him, she desired todraw him into yet closer intimacy. There could be nothing but goodresulting from her invitation and his acceptance, and already Denzillooked forward to some bright summer's day in the green and leafycountry, when he should ask this goddess among women to be his wife. Ifencouragement and looks and blushes went for anything, he hardly doubtedthe happy result.
In the meantime, while Lucian dreamed his dreams, Diana, also dreamingin her own way, remained in town and attended to business. She saw herlawyers, and had her affairs looked into, so that when she went to Bathshe was legally installed as the mistress of Berwin Manor and itssurrounding acres. As Lucian hinted, Lydia did indeed try to see herstepdaughter. She called twice, and was refused admission into Diana'spresence. She wrote three times, and received no reply to her letters;so the consequence was that, finding Diana declined to have anything todo with her in any way whatsoever, she became very bitter. This feelingshe expressed to Lucian, whom she one day met in Piccadilly.
"As if I had done anything," finished Lydia, after a recital of all hergrievances. "I call it real mean. Don't you think so, Mr. Denzil?"
"If you ask me, Mrs. Vrain," said Lucian stiffly, "I think you and MissVrain are better apart."
"Of course you defend her. But I guess I can't blame you, as I know whatyou are driving at."
"What about Signor Ferruci?" asked Denzil, parrying.
"Oh, we are good friends still, but nothing more. As he proved that hedid not kill Mark, I've no reason to give him his walking-ticket. But,"added Mrs. Vrain drily, "I guess you'll be married to Diana before Ihitch up 'longside Ercole."
"How do you know I shall marry Miss Vrain?" asked Lucian, flushing.
"If you saw your face in a glass, you wouldn't ask, I guess. Tomatoesain't in it for redness. I won't dance at your wedding, and I won'tbreak my heart, either," and with a gay nod Mrs. Lydia Vrain trippedaway, evidently quite forgetful of the late tragedy in her life.