"Yes."
I paused. Truth to tell, I was overwhelmed by these disclosures.
"Bear this steadfastly in mind," I said, presently, in a calm, judicial tone. "You are in the presence of a man who has sworn to rescue the innocent. You are in the presence of a man who has sworn to bring the guilty to justice. Upon me depends your fate. I can save or destroy you. If by a hair's-breadth of duplicity and evasion you attempt to deceive me, your destruction is certain. This is the turning-point of your life. Upon your truthfulness rests your fate. Open your heart to me, not as to your enemy, but as to your friend, and relate to me, without equivocation, the true story of your life, from the time you commenced to plunge into dissipation and disgrace."
Awed and conscience-stricken, he told me the story. In the course of his narration I was compelled frequently to prompt and encourage him, but that, in the result, it was truthfully told I have not a shadow of doubt.
His career at college ended, he came to London. There he made the acquaintance of Edward Layton's father, a man who, although well on in years, was as weak-minded as he was himself. They entered into a kind of partnership, in which, no doubt, the elder man, now in his grave, was the leader and prompter. From Eustace's description of Edward Layton's father I recognized a man weak-minded as Eustace himself was, and whose inherent honor and honesty were warped by his fatal passion for gambling. Old Mr. Layton, for a long time, kept his infatuation from the knowledge of his son, and it was not until he was actually involved in crime and disgrace that Edward became aware of it. Long before this Edward had, through his engagement with Mabel Rutland, been employed in the helpless task of endeavoring to save her beloved brother, but when the knowledge of his own father's disgrace was forced upon him, he knew that all hope of Mabel's father consenting to his marriage was irretrievably gone. It was not only that the young and the old man had lost money in betting--it was that they had actually been guilty of forging bills, which Mr. Beach, the father of the woman whom Edward Layton afterwards married, held in his possession. It was this that first took Edward Layton to Mr. Beach's house. Mabel had implored him to save her darling brother, against whom Mr. Beach had threatened to take criminal proceedings. I do not at this moment know whether Edward Layton had revealed to Mabel the disgrace which hung also above his father but that is immaterial. Agnes Beach, Mr. Beach's only child, saw and fell in love with Edward Layton, and her father, disreputable as he was, being devoted to his daughter, was guided by her in all that subsequently transpired. The bills he held he determinedly refused to part with, unless Edward Layton married his child.
In the terrible position in which he was placed, knowing that Mabel Rutland was lost to him forever--knowing how deeply and devotedly she loved her brother Eustace--knowing the disgrace which hung over his own name, he saw no other way to prevent utter ruin than to enter into this fatal engagement, and to marry a woman whom he did not love. But, with a full consciousness of the disreputable connection he was about to form, he laid no pressing injunction upon his father to recognize the unhappy union; and, indeed, old Mr. Layton, aware that he was in Mr. Beach's power, was by no means desirous to meet him. Love lost, honor lost, the sword hanging over his head, Edward Layton submitted to the sacrifice. There was no duplicity on his part. Agnes Beach knew full well that he did not love her. He received, as he believed, the whole of the forged bills which Mr. Beach held, and it was not until some time after his marriage that he discovered that three of these fatal acceptances had been withheld from him. At the time he made this discovery he was leading a most unhappy life with his wife, and on more than one occasion she taunted him with the power she held over him.
It was shortly after the marriage that weak-minded Eustace made the acquaintance of Ida White. She was an attractive woman, well versed in the wiles of her sex, and she played upon him and entangled him to such an extent that there was no escape for him. It is unnecessary here to enter into the details of this connection. It is sufficient to say that Ida White held Eustace Rutland completely in her power, with a firm conviction that if she could induce him to marry her, she could, after the marriage, obtain the forgiveness of Eustace's father--which would insure her a life of ease and luxury. But there was still a certain firmness in the young man.
"Marry me," she said.
"I will marry you," Eustace replied, "when I get back the forged acceptances."
Where were they? In Mrs. Layton's possession.