“I can’t fit North in,—unless he is in league with the criminal.”
“That’s too absurd. He and my brother weren’t even acquaintances.”
“Oh, I know it’s absurd! But, what isn’t? I can’t see a ray of light! And, then, there’s that awful matter of the maid, Martha!”
“I think, Mr Wise, that since you admit failure, there is nothing for it, but to take Mrs Varian away and give up the case.”
“Leaving Betty to her fate!”
“We can search for the child just as well from Boston or New York as from here.”
“I don’t think so, Doctor. Take Mrs Varian away, if you wish,—and if she will go. I shall stay here and solve this mystery. Because I have failed thus far, is no proof I shall continue to be unsuccessful. Mrs Varian is a rich woman,—I am not a poor man. I shall use such funds as she provides, supplementing them, if necessary, with my own, but I shall find Betty Varian, if she’s alive,—I shall find Lawrence North,—if he is alive,—and I shall discover the murderer or murderers of Frederick Varian and of Martha.”
“You speak confidently, Mr Wise.”
“I do; because I mean to devote my whole soul to this thing. I can’t fail, ultimately,—I can’t!”
The man was so desperate in his determination, so sincere in his intent, that Doctor Varian was impressed, and said heartily, “I believe you will. Now, here’s something I’ve found out. I’ve talked with my brother’s lawyer, and I find there was something in Frederick’s life that he kept secret. I don’t for one minute believe it was anything disgraceful or dishonorable, for I knew my brother too well for that. But it may have been some misfortune,—or even some youthful error,—but whatever it was, it had an effect on his later years. And, there’s that strange matter of the Varian pearls. Those pearls, Mr Wise, are historic. They have never been bequeathed to any one save the oldest son or daughter of a Varian. Now, the fact that Betty and her father sometimes squabbled, is not enough to make my brother leave them to my daughter instead of to his own. Yet I can form no theory to explain the fact that he did do so. I’ve tried to think he was temporarily or hypochondriacally insane, but I can’t reconcile that belief with my knowledge of his physical health and well-being. Then, I’ve wondered if he ever did me a wrong in the past, that I never learned of, and if this was by way of reparation. But that is too unlikely. Again, I’ve thought that there might be some error in the family records, and that I might be the elder son instead of Fred. But I checked it all up, and he was two years my senior. Yet, he told the lawyer, who drew up his will, that justice demanded that the pearls be left to his niece instead of to his daughter. Now, what could he have meant by that?”