“In fact, it was to this very end that I despatched my son---to the place where the capture is said to have occurred---to secure further details. I’m sorry I could not have been more forthcoming with you on this. Perhaps you will understand if an old soldier, far from his native soil, feels a certain loyalty to the men who help him defend an often hostile frontier? I did not wish to hold one or more of them before you as criminal, until there was conclusive evidence against him.”
He touched his fingertips lightly together, continued.
“As to the second charge---that of an illegitimate daughter---I must confess that I myself am bewildered. There is in fact a young woman here who claims that title---or rather, her guardian claims it for her. And though the evidence is quite clearly against them, still the woman persists. She has asked for a rather large sum as recompense, which I can only interpret as outright blackmail. But I assure you, they are not under lock and key. If it will ease your mind, I will take you to them after supper. In fact, I insist.”
So convincing had the performance been, the casual air and supreme confidence, that Earl Arthur experienced a moment of doubt. What if Purceville had spoken the truth, and the charges against him proved groundless? But his stubborn anger rallied, and he remembered with whom he was dealing.
“Yes, we will pay a call on them, immediately---and I mean just
that!---after the evening meal.” Which was, of course, exactly what Purceville wanted.
The old man started to leave, then paused in the doorway. “And when shall I have the pleasure of speaking to your son?”
The master never batted an eye. “Will tomorrow noon be acceptable? That is when he is scheduled to return to me with his report.” Arthur grunted, presumably in assent, and left the room.
The stage was set. Alone in her chambers, the old woman smiled.