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Page 94
"No fear!" replied Jimmie. "His retribution has come. I hope you will
pay him with interest, old chap."
"I should like to confront him," Jack answered, "but it is wiser
not to; my passion would get the better of me. No, his punishment is
sufficient--you have avenged me, Jimmie. Think of what it means! Public
exposure, perhaps, exile from England, and the loss of his uncle's
fortune. He will suffer more keenly than any low-born criminal who goes
to the gallows. I will leave him to his conscience and his God."
"You are too merciful--too kind-hearted," said Jimmie. "But it is
useless to argue with you. Come, we'll talk of something more cheerful
and forget the past. What are you going to do with yourself? Go back
to the art?"
"I have no plans," Jack replied, bitterly, "except that I shall get away
from London as speedily as possible. I can't live down my disgrace here.
I shall probably return to India. I have lost faith in human nature,
Jimmie, and learned the mockery of friendship--no, by heavens, I
shouldn't say that! I have found out what true friendship is. I can
never forget what you did for me--how you worked to prove my innocence!"
"It was a pleasure, old fellow. I would have done a hundred times as
much. But don't talk blooming nonsense about leaving London. Many an
innocent man falls under suspicion--there is not a shadow of disgrace
attached to it. Stay here and work! Go back to your studio! And marry
the woman you love. Why shouldn't you, now that you are free in every
sense? I'll bet anything you like that she cares for you as much as
ever--"
"Stop; don't speak of _her_!" cried Jack. "I can't bear it!--the memory
of Madge brings torments! It is too late, too late! She can never be
mine!"
"That's where you're wrong, old chap," said Jimmie. "I know how you feel
about it, but do listen to reason--"
He broke off at the sound of a couple of sharp raps, and jumping up
he opened the door. Into the room strode Sir Lucius Chesney, with a
bewildered, agitated look on his face that had been there when he drove
away from Pentonville Prison an hour before, after a lengthy and most
startling interview with Major Wyatt and Noah Hawker.
"I hope you will excuse my abrupt intrusion," he said quickly. "I went
to Tenby's office, and he told me where you had gone. I have something
very important to say--I will come to it presently. Mr. Vernon, I
congratulate you! No one can rejoice more sincerely than myself that
this black cloud has passed away from your life. You have paid dearly
for your youthful folly--your boyish infatuation with a French dancer."
"You are very kind, sir," said Jack, as he accepted the proffered hand.
"I hear that I owe very much to you."
"Thank God that I have found you--that I am not left desolate in my old
age!" exclaimed Sir Lucius, to the wonder of his companions. "Prepare
for a great surprise! Your name is not Vernon, but Clare?"
"John Clare is my real name, sir."
"And your father was Ralph Vernon Clare?"
"Yes!"
"I knew as much--it was needless to ask," replied Sir Lucius, in
tremulous tones; something glistened in his eye. He rested an arm on
Jack's shoulder and looked into his face. "My dear boy, your mother was
my youngest sister," he added. "And you are my nephew!"
A rush of color dyed Jack's cheeks, and he stared in amazement; he could
not grasp the meaning of what he had just heard.
"You my uncle, Sir Lucius?" he asked, hoarsely.
"Yes, your uncle!"
"By Jove, another mystery!" gasped Jimmie. "It knocks me breathless! I
don't know what to make of it--it beats the novels that wind up with the
discovery of the lost heir. At all events, Jack, you seem to be in luck.
I'm awfully glad!"
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