“Bruce, dearest, you are utterly unable to attempt to take such a journey,” said Emmie soothingly. She feared that her brother’s mind was beginning to wander. Bruce perhaps guessed her suspicion, for calmly meeting her anxious gaze he reiterated his question, “Only tell me, when does the next train start for London?”
“Not till after dark,” replied Emmie.
“Then after dark I go up to London, unless Vibert return,” said Bruce. “I must warn him—I must give notice to the police—I must telegraph at once,” and with an effort the young man rose to his feet. At that moment the superintendent of police entered the hall, not a little surprised to see before him, living, the man for whose corpse he and his companions had been making most diligent search. The appearance of Bruce showed but too plainly how narrowly he had escaped the fate to which he had been supposed to have fallen a victim.
“What brought him here?” cried Bruce, glancing at the official, and then turning his inquiring eyes on his sister.
Concealment was no longer possible; Emmie began to break gently the evil tidings which had come that morning from London, but had scarcely uttered a sentence before Bruce anticipated all that she was about to tell him.
“Vibert has been arrested,” he cried, “the dupe of the villany of a forger. Emmie, I must go to the study with this officer; I can give him information of the greatest importance. He will send telegraphs to London and to Liverpool, and he and I will go up to town by the next train. There is a nefarious plot to be unravelled, and the events of last night have placed the end of the clue in my hand.”
His sister saw at once that opposition would be useless. The more ill Bruce felt himself to be, the more resolved he was to speak and act while the power to do so remained. Till he had had his conference with the superintendent, the sufferer would take neither rest nor refreshment, save copious draughts of water, eagerly swallowed to quench his feverish thirst. Bruce’s hand trembled violently as he replenished the tumbler again and again; but this was but the weakness of the nerves,—the will of the soul was as strong as ever.
“Will you not suffer us first to bathe and bind your poor head?” suggested Emmie, who could not look on the injured brow without a thrill of pain.
“There will be time for all that,” exclaimed Bruce with impatient gesture; “more important matters press,—is not our brother’s honour at stake?”
The condition in which Bruce Trevor appeared, and the circumstances under which he had been found, had removed from the mind of the police official all suspicion that he could ever have been leagued with the forgers. He had evidently barely escaped with life from the hands of the ruffians, and their shallow device for implicating him in their guilt was transparent to all. The superintendent eagerly received from Bruce such information regarding the forgers as was likely to lead to their apprehension before they should have time to make their escape from the shores of Britain.