XIV
Sir John Maxton stayed to dinner. Beryl did not put in an appearance until just before eight.
"Already, Beryl?"
Dr. Merville scrambled up. His face was gray, his eyes sunken, the hands that took her by the shoulders shook.
"My dear—I hope I have done right. I hope I have done right, my little girl."
She tried to smile as she kissed him.
"Can't I take you to Berkeley Square, Beryl?" asked Sir John.
She shook her head.
"No, thank you, John—goodbye."
They stood together, bareheaded, on the pavement, and saw her go. A drizzle of rain was falling, the dull red furnace glow of London was in the sky.
Together they walked back to the dining room and Maxton did not break in upon the doctor's thoughts.
"Thank God she's gone," he whispered at last, "John, I'm at the end, I know it. Perhaps he'll help after—I'll be satisfied if he makes Beryl happy."
"He could help now," said John Maxton. "Why do you deceive yourself? How can you hope for anything from Steppe? I wish to God I had known that this infernal marriage was for today."
"She wished it," said the doctor, "I should not have insisted, but she wished it. Steppe isn't a bad fellow—"
"Steppe is a scoundrel and nobody knows that better than yourself. Why are you in any danger from the law? Because you copied a draft prospectus which Steppe drew up and issued it in your own name. Steppe has only to appear as a witness and tell the truth, and he would find himself in your place—supposing this comes to a prosecution. But he won't. He could have saved—"
He stopped.
"Ambrose Sault?"
"He could have saved the body of Ambrose Sault from annihilation by a word! The draft of the prospectus is in existence. It is in the safe that Sault made. Steppe could open it and ninety-nine hundredths of your responsibility would be wiped out. But he won't risk his own skin."
"You think they will prosecute, John?"
Maxton considered. There was nothing to be gained by evasion.
"I am sure they will," he said quietly, "if I were the Public Prosecutor I should apply for a warrant on the facts as I know them."
The door opened.
"Will you see two gentlemen from Whitehall?" the maid asked.
It was Maxton who nodded.
"Bertram—you have to meet this ordeal—courageously."
The doctor got up as the detectives entered.
"I am Detective Inspector Lord, from Scotland Yard," said the first of them, "you are Dr. Bertram Merville? I have to take you into custody on a charge of misrepresentation under the Companies Act."
"Very good," said Dr. Merville, "may I go to my room for a moment?"
"No sir," said the inspector. "I understand you keep a medicine chest in your room."
Maxton nodded approvingly.
He did not go to the police station with the prisoner. He went in search of Beryl—and Jan Steppe.