CHAPTER VI
OLD FRICK AGAIN
As Monk had told us, old Frick had been for many years lame, and a prisoner to his invalid chair.
Imagine, then, Monk's and my surprise when we, on entering Villa Ballarat, after having been sent for from our post outside, found the master of the house standing in the middle of the room, and Clara sitting smiling in a chair.
It is not necessary to describe the meeting between him and Clara, although my wife, at the time, gave a full account of it.
Suffice it to say that she boldly entered the lion's den and, without much ceremony, began upbraiding old Frick with his hard treatment of his brother's children.
"If your nephew has erred," she said, "he was young at the time, and in bad company—that I can vouch for." She was thinking, no doubt, of Mr. Howell. "As far as your niece is concerned, you have judged her, as the whole world has judged her, on suspicion, without taking into consideration her character."
Old Frick had got red in the face at these words, and his arms and legs had begun twitching violently.
Clara was a little afraid the old man would have a fit, but remembering the old saying, "Joy does not kill," she continued, quite undisturbed: "Something has, however, happened, which you have not deserved, Mr. Frick. Monk and two friends, my husband and myself, have discovered, as we shall prove, that she has had nothing whatever to do with the disappearance of the diamond; it is the scoundrel Mr. Howell who is at the bottom of it all. In fact, in a short time you may have your niece back again, and for the remainder of your life you'll have an opportunity of making amends for your mistake."
There is no doubt Clara was most successful in her appeal; for instead of old Frick having a fit, he suddenly rose from his chair, stumbled across to Clara, and in a trembling voice asked her for a fuller explanation. The excitement had cured his lameness; and though he never entirely regained the full use of his legs, yet from that moment he was, at any rate, able to move about by himself.