Appledore was put up for sale and bought in by Mr. Philip Baddock, who took up his residence there and gradually gained for himself a position in the county as one of the most wealthy magnates in the north of England. Thus he became acquainted with the present Lord Flintshire, and, later on, met my dear lady. She neither sought nor avoided his acquaintance, and even went once to a dinner party at Appledore Castle.
That was lately, on the occasion of our last stay at Kirk. I had gone up to the Castle in the brougham so that I might accompany Lady Molly home, and had been shown into the library, whither my dear lady came in order to put on her cloak.
While she was doing so Mr. Philip Baddock came in. He had a newspaper in his hand and seemed greatly agitated.
“Such extraordinary news, Lady Molly,” he said, pointing to a head-line in the paper. “You know, of course, that the other day a convict succeeded in effecting his escape from Dartmoor?”
“Yes, I knew that,” said my dear lady, quietly.
“Well, I have reason to—to suppose,” continued Mr. Baddock, “that that convict was none other than my unfortunate nephew, De Mazareen.”
“Yes?” rejoined Lady Molly, whose perfect calm and serene expression of face contrasted strangely with the obvious agitation of Philip Baddock.
“Heaven knows that he tried to do me an evil turn,” rejoined the latter after a while; “but of course I bear him no grudge, now that the law has given me that which he tried to wrench from me—a just share of my father’s possessions. Since he has thrown himself on my mercy——”
“Thrown himself on your mercy!” ejaculated my dear lady, whose face had become almost grey with a sudden fear. “What do you mean?”
“De Mazareen is in my house at the present moment,” replied Mr. Baddock, quietly.