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Page 57
"I agree entirely," answered Collingwood. "Let Pratt rest in his fancied
security. The thing is, certainly, to go back. But--to what point?"
"That we must consider later," said Eldrick. "Now--for the present, Miss
Mallathorpe,--you are, I suppose, going back home?"
"Yes, at once," answered Nesta. "I have my car at the _Crown Hotel_."
"I should just like to know something," continued Eldrick again, looking
at Collingwood as if for approval. "That is--Mrs. Mallathorpe's present
disposition towards affairs in general and Pratt in particular. Miss
Mallathorpe!--just do something which I will now suggest to you. When
you reach home, see your mother--she is still, I understand, an invalid,
though evidently able to transact business. Just approach her gently and
kindly, and tell her that you are a little--should we say
uncomfortable?--about certain business arrangements which you hear she
has made with Mr. Pratt, and ask her, if she won't talk them over with
you, and give you her full confidence. It's now half-past twelve,"
continued Eldrick, looking at his watch. "You'll be home before lunch.
See your mother early in the afternoon, and then telephone, briefly, the
result to me, here, at four o'clock. Then--Mr. Collingwood and I will
have a consultation."
He motioned Collingwood to remain where he was, and himself saw Nesta
down to the street. When he came back to his room he shook his head at
the young barrister.
"Collingwood!" he said. "There's some dreadful business afloat in all
this! And it's all the worse because of the fashion in which Pratt
talked to that girl. She's evidently a very good memory--she narrated
that conversation clearly and fully. Pratt must be very sure of his hand
if he showed her his cards in that way--his very confidence in himself
shows what a subtle network he's either made or is making. I question if
he'd very much care if he knew that we know. But he mustn't know
that--yet. We must reply to his mine with a counter-mine!"
"What do you think of Pratt's charge against Mrs. Mallathorpe?" asked
Collingwood.
Eldrick made a wry face.
"Looks bad!--very, very bad, Collingwood!" he answered. "Art and scheme
of a desperate woman, of course. But--we mustn't let her daughter think
we believe it. Let her stick to the suggestion I made--which, as you
remarked, would certainly make a very good line of defence, supposing
Pratt even did accuse her. But now--what on earth is this document
that's been mentioned--this paper of which Pratt has possession? Has
Mrs. Mallathorpe at some time committed forgery--or bigamy--or--what is
it? One thing's sure, however--we've got to work quietly. We mustn't let
Pratt know that we're working. I hope he doesn't know that Miss
Mallathorpe came here. Will you come back about four and hear what
message she sends me? After that, we could consult."
Collingwood went away to his chambers. He was much occupied just then,
and had little time to think of anything but the work in hand. But as he
ate his lunch at the club which he had joined on settling in Barford, he
tried to get at some notion of the state of things, and once more his
mind reverted to the time of his grandfather's death, and his own
suspicions about Pratt at that period. Clearly that was a point to which
they must hark back--he himself must make more inquiries about the
circumstances of Antony Bartle's last hours. For this affair would not
have to rest where it was--it was intolerable that Nesta Mallathorpe
should in any way be under Pratt's power. He went back to Eldrick at
four o'clock with a suggestion or two in his mind. And at the sight of
him Eldrick shook his head.
"I've had that telephone message from Normandale," he said, "five
minutes ago. Pretty much what I expected--at this juncture, anyway. Mrs.
Mallathorpe absolutely declines to talk business with even her daughter
at present--and earnestly desires that Mr. Linford Pratt may be left
alone."
"Well?" asked Collingwood after a pause. "What now?"
"We must do what we can--secretly, privately, for the daughter's sake,"
said Eldrick. "I confess I don't quite see a beginning, but----"
Just then the private door opened, and Pascoe, a somewhat
lackadaisical-mannered man, who always looked half-asleep, and was in
reality remarkably wide-awake, lounged in, nodded to Collingwood, and
threw a newspaper in front of his partner.
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