The Wrong that was done

Front matter

VOL. Ill BY F. W. ROBINSON AUTHOR OF ' GRANDMOTHER'S MONEY,' ' THE YOUNGEST MISS GREEN,' ' THE COURTING OF MARY SMITH,' ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON : HURST AND BLACKETT, LIMITED, 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1892. AH Higkts Reserved. CONTENTS OF THE THIRD VOLUME. :h \ .PTEK PAGE

BOOK V

. CCONTEiUKO.) THE NEW LIFE. II. Martin's Letter 3 III. Stormy 17 IV. Shadows Before 25 V. On the Fells 37 VI. In the Trap 53 VII. Escorted Home 61 VIII. Precaution 71 I X. The Man in Hiding .... 80 X. The Author of my Being ! ... 89 XI. In the Small Hours .... 99 XII. The Truth of It ! 112 XIII. Like a Madhouse ! VI CONTENTS. XIV. The AVolf's Mouth 133 XV. Caged 115 XVI. Under Lock and Key . . . .157 XVII. An Attempt at Briberi .... 167 XVIII. A Crisis 178 XIX. Struck Down 191 XX. The Curtain Falls . . .203 XXI. Desperation 213 XXII. The First Visitor 224 XXIII. Almost Stormy 234 XXIV. Taking Care 244 XXV. Confession 258 XXVI. After the Storms

Chapter II. Martin's Letter

Eric Dubberley received the news at dinner that his sister had made up her mind to quit Leith. He listened with a complacent satis faction, which it was impossible wholly to disguise. He 'kept his countenance,' as the phrase runs; but there was a beaming light in his eyes, for all the profundity of expression on his face. He feigned surprise, or he was legiti mately surprised; and, after reflecting on the new position which Miranda's announcement had created in his mind, he said, ' Well — change will certainly be beneficial to you, Miranda ; it is what everybody has advised. You and Deborah can look about you thoroughly ; there is no hurry ; time is your own ; money is of no consideration ; and you will be B able to settle in some pleasant part of the king dom at your own convenience. I am sure Harvey and I will be only too happy to assist you with our advice, or promote your comfort in any way.' This was a long speech for Eric, and rather out of his line ; but his heart was full, and he was completely satisfied.

He had had grave doubts of the effect of bringing his wife home ; she had had grave doubts herself, and had exhibited no haste to take up her rightful position in her husband's house. She was a nervous young woman, and exaggerated rumours of Miranda's condition of mind had reached her ears, and rendered her doubtful of the advisability of assuming the reins of government too hastily, and she had consented, even reluctantly at last, to attempt the experiment. And here it was all settled by Miranda's new intention to depart, and set up a home of her own, or, at least, to set out in search of a home. Nothing could have happened more fortunately or oppor tunely, and Eric was content. ' Next week we begin our new life then,' said Miranda. ' Mine beginning at the same time,' replied Eric. • It will be strange at first without you, and Deborah, and Harvey.

Altogether a new home.' ' Is Harvey going also V asked his sister. ' Hasn't he told you V ' Oh, no ; he doesn't tell me anything,' said Miranda. Harvey looked across at her gravely and observantly, but did uot reply ; he left all the explanation to Eric, who was absolutely garru lous that evening. He sat in his father's chair at the head of the table, and played the part of Sir Oracle very well. With no one to cross or to contradict him, Eric appeared to have improved a little of late days. ' Yes, of course, Harvey sees the desirability of changing his quarters,' said Eric. ' A family man like me is better with the house to himself, aud with no relations hanging about, or turn ing up at the wrong lime, and getting in the way generally. At least, that is the conclusion at which he and I have arrived, and I don't think it is a bad one.' ' Yes, you are better apart,' responded Miranda, thoughtfully, or absently — it was doubtful which. ' Ah ! we have had a good many little spars in the house,' said Eric ; ' but w*e shall hit it better when we see less of each other.

That is your impression also, I think, Harvey?' ' I will give you my opinion after dinner,' replied his brother. ' Have you not made up your mind concerning it?' asked Eric, with a laugh. 'Oh, yes! I have made up my mind,' was Harvey's answer ; and in so hard a tone that we all looked in his direction, but he did not speak again till dinner was concluded. Then he sur prised us by saying, ' I think of leaving for Corazo in a few weeks' time.' ' Corazo !' exclaimed Miranda. ' Corazo,' repeated Eric. ' Why, you have not mentioned this before. AVhat new freak is this — and with the business ' ' The business will get on very well without me ; and will be in business-like hands,' he said,. drily. ' What has put Corazo into your head again ?' asked Eric. ' There is trouble coming on ; and I shall be glad to be at Martin Reisdale's side when it comes,' he replied. ' Just the time when I should be glad to be out of the way,' observed Eric. ' What trouble is it V was my own eager question. ' The newspapers are speaking of Corazo, and prophesying disaster.' ' They are quickly tired of their new president,' commented Eric. ' They are not tired of him at present,' said Harvey. ' but that will follow.

The troubles are monev troubles.' ' They are an ungrateful lot at Corazo.' 'Ingratitude is peculiar to South America,' said Harvey, satirically. Eric winced at this, as if some hidden meaning were implied. ' I don't see, Harvey, why you should dart off in that direction,' said Eric, ' and neglect the business for republican politics.' ' I do not neglect the business, Eric,' was the reply, ' I give it up entirely.' 'Give it up?' ' Yes — it is all yours ; I am sick of it. It was never congenial to me, and I do not care to work with you any longer.' Eric stared for a moment at Harvey, and then his eyes shifted from a steadier gaze than his own. ' 1 know there is no reasoning with you if you have made up your mind,' said the elder brother, ' but it is a deuced awkward time to go away.' ' You will find things straight before I go,' said Harvey. ' Very well — very well,' said Eric, as though anxious to put an end to the discussion : and Harvey did not attempt to prolong it.

Half-an-hour afterwards, Harvey was in the drawing-room. He went to the piano, opened it, looked down at the keys, and then closed the lid over them. ' Were you thinking of playing V I asked. ' No. Where is Eric V ' Eric has gone out,' I said. ' That is well. I can talk better when he is away,' he said, sitting down. He looked from Miranda to me. There was au embarrassed air with him which was not natural to Harvey Dubberley. There was much to explain, I thought at once. ' You must not imagine,' he continued, ' that I am anxious to get away from you both, or that I intend to start for Corazo until I am sure that you and Miranda are settled fairly and safely. But the question came uppermost to night, and I thought it as well to break the ice.' ' Why had you not mentioned it to Eric before V asked Miranda. ' It was not necessary.' ' You are partners, are you not ?' ' The law has made us partners in a kind of a way,' said Harvey ; ' it can never make us fellow-workers, or — friends.' ' That is a poor confession, Harvey,' I ven tured to reply. ' It is,' he affirmed ; ' but I despise him, and I cannot work with him.' ' Despise him,' I repeated, iu a low tone. ' Utterly.' I shivered at the intensity of Harvey Dub berley's reply : aud Miranda said, ' I did not think you hated him so very much ; but, of course, I knew there was not much love lost between you.' ' Hate him I do not,' I was glad to hear Harvey reply. ' He is my brother ; and blood counts.

Love him I do not either,' he added. ' There is nothing in him to love that I have ever seen. Pity him I may a little ; but I am not quite certain of that.' ' Why should you pity him ?' Miranda asked. • One should pity a man tied to such a life as his — and for all his life. He will never escape from it; it will surround him, hem him in, sub merge him presently,' Harvey went on. 'Money is his one god. He thinks more of money at bis age, than even my father did in his latest and worst days. I cnnnot share my life with such a man. Life has higher duties for me ; and, when it has not, I will escape it altogether.' He spoke warmly, almost indignantly. I was conviuced in my own mind that there was a reason for it. He, was disturbed ; something had occurred to ruffle the placidity, the im passibility, of his customary demeanour.

If he were less grave than his wont, he was sterner,. more inclined to deliver his utterances with a force, and even passion, which were foreign to his nature in the house of Dubberley. ' I thought 3*011 had relinquished the idea of going to Corazo,' said Miranda, regarding him also with more attention than she was in the habit of doing. ' Is there any reason which you have not told us ? anything save the money affairs of Corazo, which tends to lure you from the money affairs of the Dubberleys ?' Harvey regarded his sister intently, and seemed a long time in replying to her. ' There is another reason, but it would not interest you,' he said at last. ' A secret ?' 'Not much of a secret. You will know it before I go,' he answered. ' I know it already.' Harvey looked hard at his sister again, but she did not return his glance.

She went out of the drawing-room, leaving Harvey and me together. ' Don't leave Deborah alone,' she said to him before she went. ' I wish to see Mary Cannon for an instant.' AVhen the door had closed, he turned to me quickly. ' Miranda is more like her old self to-night, is she not ?' ' Yes, I think so.' ' It is a good sign when she grows satirical and — aggravating,' Harvey said, with a faint smile, 'and becomes curious concerning the future — mine even, as well as her own. Yes, she has improved.' 'She is brighter,' I said; 'the thought of leaving Leith is pleasant even to her.' 'She hates it more than I do,' he replied. ' She has always been beset with the wish to get away. Even the poor father had that im pulse at last, and after all the weary, purposeless years which he devoted to making mouey in it.' ' Money again !' He looked at me inquiringly, and I said, ' How you talk of money to-night !

And scoff at it.' ' I have seen monej* make such brutes of men,' he answered, with a frown settling on his face, ' such cowards and thieves.' ' You have?' ' Oh, yes, many times. But there,' he said, ' we were talking of Miranda a minute or two ago. AA'hat is her plan — her future course of action ? Do you know f I shook my head. • Has she no wishes V ' I have suggested London. I thought the change, even the excitement, might do her good, and put her thoughts into a fresh channel — as they may,' I answered. ' Yes — as they may,' he murmured. ' I should have been better pleased to hear of the country — of the mountains, and moors, and lochs of our own Scotland ; and where 1 could have run down to you easily, and made sure that you ■were both well.' ' That may follow presently.' ' Ah ! presently !' ' Meaning that presently you will be with Martin Reisdale?' ' My mission lies there,' he said, without responding directly to my question. ' My one friend is there, who will be glad to see me, and to whom I can be of service.' ' Is he in danger — so soon as this, and after all that I have read of his reception at Corazo ?' • You read the papers ; you follow news of him ?' he rejoined. ■ Yes.

But I have read of nothing to suggest stormy times — danger to him — anything.' ' Storms rise suddenly in South America. But this may be my fancy, after all.' ' You clo not know for certain ?' ' No.' * Have you heard from him lately ?' To my astonishment, his face flushed like a startled girl. < Yes yes — I have heard,' he replied, hurriedly, — ' oh, yes.' 'Lately?' ' Two days since I received a letter from him.' • Then why ' I paused. I found I was speaking in a sharp, indignant tone, as though I resented his reserve, or it was my right to hear from Martin Reisdale first of all of them, just as if he had been really that father I had thought he was till the summer of last year ; as if his first thoughts should have been for me, and not for Harvey Dubberley. ' Why have I not told you V he concluded for me. ' AArell, there are reasons even for that.

I am full of mysteries and little secrets, like a seusational novel ; but I did not intend to keep you in the dark. Quite the contrary.' ' He asks you to come to Corazo V Harvey shook his head. 'Oh, no — quite the contrary also,' he said; ' he begs me to remain here. For twelve months longer; he Shall I show you the letter?' ' I cannot intrude upon your confidence, Har vey,' I said. ' I have no wish to see it. He would have written to me direct had he any wish to — to keep me in remembrance.' ' He mentions you more than once. Do you think he is a man likely to forget any one whom he esteems V ' Why should he esteem me ? AA'hat have I done save distrust him, and — and take his money ?' ' It is you who are speaking of money now,' Harvey remarked. ' Yes — it is difficult to escape the subject after all,' I said, smiling at his quick reminder.

He put his hand in the breast-pocket of his coat, and slowly produced a letter therefrom, which he held towards me in a half-hesitating, half-embarrassed way that aroused my woman's curiosity. ' There is Martin's letter, if you care to read it,' he said. And once more his face deepened very much in colour. 'I said just now that I had no wish to read it, — to intrude upon the confidence between you,' I said ; ' and I have no right.' ' There is nothing one need be ashamed of; there is even a little to be proud of. He speaks of you herein.' ' Indeed !' ' More than once, as I have already said. And I daresay he would be pleased — if — you would read it,' said Harvey, still with his hand out stretched towards me, and the letter shaking in his hand. 1 was surprised, perplexed, and, in a half hesitating, half-absent way, I took the letter from him.

It was making too much of a fuss to decline to read it ; it was standing too much on my dignity ; it was as if I had guessed the contents, and was afraid of them, instead of being completely in the clouds. The letter was on thin, foreign paper; but the envelope had been sealed very carefully at one time, and stamped with official arms ; and, when it was in my hands, I looked with some interest at the blazonry of office — the heraldry of Corazo — before I drew the letter forth slowly, reluctantly at the last moment, fearing the nature of its contents, or of approaching more closely to the reason which Harvey Dubberley hadhad for keeping it back from me. I dreaded this from Harvey's manner — his suppressed ex citement, his intense watchfulness of me, his own great fear of what was to follow the perusal. As I glanced at him again, I saw that he was as white as death.

Chapter III. Stormy

The letter of Martin Reisdale was scarcely open in my hands, when it was suddenly snatched away from me by Harvey Dubberley. -How — how dare you do that !' I exclaimed, as indignantly as my astonishment would allow. But Harvey did not heed me. He was tear ing the letter into a hundred pieces ; his hands trembling, his face still very white, his dark eyes ablaze. I had not seen him like this be fore ; he was off his guard, strangely excited, altogether a strange man to me. He caught my glance. ' You must not read it, Deborah ; no, no, you must not read it. I have been a fool. I did not think. You would despise me and him together, reading that. I see it now : the whole thing is VOL. III. C an insult to you,' he raved. ' I must have been mad — as mad as the rest of them — to give you the letter.

Pray forget it ; for God's sake, forget it !' ' You are very mysterious, Harvey.' ' No, no ! only a fool. I have just said so.; He thrust the torn fragments into the breast pocket of his coat, as though it was not safe to toss the pieces even into the empty fire-grate, and then, for the first time, he seemed to breathe more freely. ' I am very glad you did not read it,' he mur mured. ' I see now, very clearly, that it is so much the best.' ' AVas the news in it so very terrible ?' I said, piqued at his unceremonious behaviour. ' Terrible to me, that is all.' ' And insulting to me.' ' AVhat is it you say, Deborah ? Why ' 'You told me that the letter was an insult to j me. ' Not the letter exactly. Not at all that,' he ran on, in a confused Avay ; ' but asking you to read the letter might have been in your esti mation a liberty — a gross affront.

And it was Martin's letter, written in confidence. I had no right to ask you to read it. But I did not think STORMY. of— of the consequences until I saw it in your hands. Forgive me, Deborah ; I was rude, crude ; I did not take into consideration that I had no right. I did not consider your feelings in the matter, not for one instant. Did I say I was a fool ?' ' Yes. It is the third time you have expressed that opinion within the last five minutes.' ' I cannot repeat it too often, it is so em phatically the truth,' he answered. ' Ah ! you are smiling; you are not offended with me?' ' No. If there were anything in Martin's letter which I had no right to read — which it would have shocked or pained me to read — I have to thank you for seeing its impropriety at the last minute.' ' You are satirical.

You are not often like that,' he said, a faint ring of reproach in his voice. ' I am not often treated like that,' I replied ; - you brought my heart into my mouth by so sudden an attack.' ' I am very sorry,' he said, contritely ; ' don't think of it any further. Don't say anything to Miranda ; let it be completely forgotten, if you will.' He looked so utterly crest-fallen that I could c2 not retain any resentment again sthim. I was glad even that I had not seen the contents of the letter. I had a faint impression — a dim fear myself — of what he was afraid, at last, that I should see ; but I put the thought far away back in my mind, and was glad that I could do so. ' Yes, let it be completely forgotten, Harvey,' I said, extending my hand towards him as a token of forgiveness as well. He took my hand in his own, and bowed over it in an odd, reverential kind of way that made my cheeks hot again, released it slowly, and said, ' You are very kind.

I did not deserve to be so readily forgiven. But then you are always kind.' ' Oh ! no, I am not. Quite the contrary,' 1 said, a little sharply, as if to stop any further compliments on their way towards me. He smiled, shook his head in protest, and went out of the room, much relieved in mind as to the sequel of the interview between us. Miranda stole in the instant afterwards, and took her place at my side. ' AA7hat has he said ?' she asked, very coolly, if very eagerly. STORMY. '^AVhat has who said ?' ' AA'ho ! Why, Harvey, to be sure. I thought that he ' and then she came to a full stop, and waited for me to continue. ' Harvey was only anxious to show me a letter from Mr. Reisdale ; and then, on second thoughts, he was just as anxious that I should not see it.' ' Nothing else ?' * Nothing else.' ' He is very unsettled.

He does not seem to know his own mind for five minutes together ; and he has always been so hard and obstinate,' said Miranda ;' but,' she added, with a wistful glance towards me, - perhaps you can make him out better than I can.' ' I cannot make him out at all.' 'Have you any idea concerning him? Any doubt ?' ' AA'hat should I suspect V ' Oh ! I don't know — that is, not exactly. When we are away together, I will tell you what I think, unless you press me now.' ' Yes, yes — when we are away,' I said, anxious to change the subject ; indeed, very much afraid of it. To my surprise, she said, suddenly and irrelevantly, 'Have you any suspicion concerning my brother Eric V ' Suspicion — no.' 'It has not struck you that there is any reason for Harvey's sudden determination to leave him ?' ' No.' ' You are not deeply interested in poor Har vey, 1 see.

Still, why should you be ?' ' You were speaking of Eric' ' Of Eric and him together, yes,' she replied. ' AArell, they were at high words last night, after you and I had gone to our rooms.' ' How do you know ?' ' Mary Cannon told me they were quarrelling in the office ; and I crept downstairs to listen to them,' replied Miranda, very coolly. ' Oh !' ' I was afraid. I did not know why they should quarrel ; and I thought that perhaps some news of Polydore had reached them,' she explained, hurriedly; 'and, at all events, I listened. AA'hy not ?' ' They might have seen you.' ' Eric used to be very fond of listening, per- STORMY. 23 haps I take after him,' she said, shrugging her shoulders ; ' but it has been always necessary to be watchful, and on the alert, in this house. It has not been easy to tell enemies from friends without.

Well, I heard ' ' Do not tell me. I have no right to know,' I cried, interrupting her. ' Oh ! I did not hear much. The quarrel was over when I was outside the door ; there were only the mutterings of the storm left.' ' No matter ; it is no business of mine.' Miranda was silent, and 1 had a hope that my protest had been sufficient to arrest her proposed outburst of confidence. I did not wish to learn any news from Miranda's eaves-droppiug ; I shrank from it, in fact. But my companion was not so quickly silenced, or so easily turned from her determination to constitute me her confidante in the discovery which she had made. She had turned away her head petulantly, as though the subject was dismissed ; but, before I was aware of it, she had veered round again, told me all the truth, and in despite of me. 'Deborah, my brother Eric is a thief!' she exclaimed. ' Oh, don't tell me — don't tell me I 'I heard enough to know that Harvey had charged him with a long course of peculation — Deborah, I will speak !— of theft during my father's time, of falsification of accounts, of for gery, of everything that was mean and vile ; and Eric had no defence or excuse to urge,' said Miranda. ' "It was easy enough to make it all right now," was only Eric's answer. ' He ' ' I will hear no more,' I cried, putting my hands to my ears, and running from the room.

I did not admire Eric Dubberley, but I did not wish to hear anything to his grave discredit and against his honour. It was so base a story; and, if it were true, I had no right to listen to its miserable recital. Hero or thief, Eric Dub berley was nothing to me, and belonged not to my life in any degree. I flew upstairs to my own room, away from all the bad news which had been hurled at me. Three days afterwards, Miranda and I had left the big house at Leith ; and Mr. and Mrs. Eric Dubberley reigned in our stead.

Chapter IV. Shadows Before

It was not so easy to settle down as Miranda Dubberley and I had imagined that it might be. *Easy circumstances' had no power to effect that object, and I had the humiliation of dis covering that I had little power either to bring about the end in view. If I had been vain of my influence over Miranda, it was a fancy very quickly dispelled when I had her all to myself. There was too much of the Dubberley character in her to render any of my experiments particu larly successful — too much of that self-will which leads a man to success or an utter collapse, according to the brains with which he may be ballasted. Miranda Dubberley was hard to manage, hard to please, only saved from being a disagreeable young woman by a depth of affection which is generally rare in characters like unto hers. AA7hen argument would not turn hei-, or common-sense set her in the right direction, a kind word often would — kind words having been scarce with her, and loving, gentle folk about her never.

She had known no mother, and had had no sister to share her sorrows and joys; it had been no one's business to look after her when she had returned from a foreign school, full of foreign fancies and sham sentimentalities, and been allowed to drift her own way — to drift into the power of Poly dore De Lara, who was the first good-looking adventurer to cross her path, and pose as a hero to her excited fancy. Her father had exercised authority over her, but it had been fitfully done, and, more frequently than not, done unjustly and harshly, bringing about more harm than good, after the general rule governing clumsy at tempts to be rigorous. And Miranda had given trouble, as might have been expected from the first ; and it said something for the real good ness of her nature that, after all, she had not been wholly spoiled — that there were times when she was very winning and lovable.

Miranda and I started for London to begin with. It had been my own suggestion, and I did not desire to relinquish the project at a hint from Harvey that Scotch scenery — its lochs and hills, canals and coast-line — would be more beneficial, and — odd suggestion as it was — handier for him to see after us ! There was a compliment conveyed in the suggestion, but Miranda took alarm at it. There were times when she was as distrustful of Harvey as of Eric; regarded him as dubiously, and saw hidden meanings and secret projects in his simplest actions. She had lived too long in a suspicious atmosphere to believe in those by whom she was surrounded ; and occasionally she was doubtful of my intentions, and asked me many questions concerning them. Those days were rare, but they were not wholly gone.