“I have decided,” said his father, “not to give you into custody until to-morrow morning. I wish you to accompany me to Buckholme. Mr. Lake will go with us and keep you under surveillance.”
Clarence did not wish to sit and look at the stern face of his father, nor the enigmatical one of Mr. Lake; nor did he wish to feel that their eyes were fastened upon him, reading, perhaps, his inmost thoughts. He sank into a corner of the carriage and closed his eyes, to all appearances in a state of apathetic indifference. But his mind was busy. What was his father about to do? Would he throw him out of the business? Well, if he did, he made up his mind that he could make a living some way. To be sure, he had been provided with everything that he needed at Buckholme, but his personal share of the profits of the firm of Walmonth & Company had been very small. It was for that reason that his wife had obtained employment. As to his arrest for kidnapping, he cared but little.
Before they reached Maidenhead the tumult of his feelings had subsided, and when they entered the house the servants could not have told from his appearance that anything had happened.
His father shut himself in the library. Clarence went to the billiard room to play a game of pool solitaire, but when he found that he was closely followed by Mr. Lake, he invited him to join in the game and found him no mean antagonist. But while he played, outwardly calm, his thoughts were busy, and during the evening he asked himself a hundred times: “Have they reached Paris in safety?”
CHAPTER VIII.
A SORROW AND A SOLACE.
The next morning after breakfast, during which not a word was spoken by either of the three gentlemen, Clarence was commanded by his father to follow him into the library. He saw by the look on his parent’s face that he was implacable. He would, naturally, have objected to the mandatory tone used by his father, but decided that it was useless to quarrel about trifles when there were such important matters to be settled.
Mr. Glynne, Sr., sat at the library table and Clarence sank into a chair a few feet distant.
“Turn your face around so that the light may fall upon it,” said his father. “I propose to ask you a few questions and I expect you to tell me the truth. If you lie to me, I think the light will help me to ascertain that fact.”
Clarence did as he was bidden.
“Now, who is your wife and what is she?”