Basil and Annette: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

Some three weeks afterwards, when Mr. Chaytor had resolved to take the forged cheque to the bank with the intention of enlisting its services in the discovery of the criminal, he went to his desk to obtain the document. It was gone, and other papers with it. He was confounded; without the cheque he could do nothing.

"Have I a thief in my house," he asked of himself, "as well as a forger at my elbow."

The man he had suspected was in the habit of coming to his private house once a week for clerking purposes. Without considering what he was laying himself open to, he accused his clerk of robbing him, and the result was that the man left his service and brought an action for slander against him, which he was compelled to compromise by an apology and the payment of a sum of money.

"It is father's own fault," said Chaytor to his mother; "had he waited and watched, he would have brought the guilt home to the fellow. But don't say anything more to him about it; let the matter rest."

It did rest, but Mr. Chaytor did not forget it.

Being in pursuit of pleasure Chaytor found himself in continual need of money, and he raised and procured it in many discreditable ways, but still he managed to keep his secret. Then came another crime. Some valuable jewels belonging to his mother were stolen. By whom?

"By one of the female servants, of course," said Chaytor.

He was not only without conscience, he was without heart.

Mr. Chaytor proposed to call in a detective. Mrs. Chaytor, acting upon the secret advice of her son, would not hear of it. The father had, therefore, two forces working against him, his wife, whom he could answer, because she was in the light, and his son, with whom he could not cope, because he was in the dark.

"It would be a dreadful scandal," said young Chaytor to his mother. "If nothing is discovered--and thieves are very cunning, you know--we shall be in worse trouble than father got into with the clerk who forged his name to the cheque. We should be the laughing-stock of everyone who knows us, and should hardly be able to raise our heads."