Apparently Major Dundas was the only member of the house of Barton for whom Mrs. Perks had even comparative approval. And Miriam had little doubt but that she was correct in her judgment, if not in her prognostications. At least she had had a lengthy experience of the family. An hereditary weakness had undoubtedly exhibited itself in various manners, none of which was either trivial or attractive. Theft, or to give it the more scientific name, kleptomania, uncontrollable rage, alcoholism, and—in the Squire—distinct and avowed homicidal mania, which characteristics left little ground for doubt as to there being decided mental aberration in the Barton family. But of the last, and more serious failing on the part of the late Squire, Mrs. Perks seemed to be wholly in ignorance. To her he was an eccentric, and a dilettante in crime—a seeker after the lower strata of humanity, but nothing more.
As soon as she arrived in town Miriam had at once proceeded to investigate the fact of Jabez' being in England. Her first visit was to the hovel of Mother Mandarin, for there she knew he was wont to take refuge when in London. But to her surprise Mother Mandarin knew nothing of his present whereabouts. She had not seen him indeed since he had left for Lesser Thorpe. Shorty, too, although he looked knowingly at her and seemed once or twice on the point of being confidential, denied all knowledge of him. For Jabez' own sake she inserted a cypher advertisement in several of the daily papers, warning him of the great danger he was running by remaining in England. But he made no sign of any kind, and Miriam gave up in despair.
She heard from Inspector Prince that in spite of the thorough search of all outgoing steamers for America, both at Southampton and at Liverpool, no trace had been found of the man she had described. And from the mere fact of the inspector writing to her thus ex-officio, she gathered—and rightly—that she had not failed so far as he was concerned. So she was forced to rest content with the knowledge that for the present, at least, Jabez, wherever he was, was safe.
Then one morning Gerald Arkel made his appearance at the Pitt Hotel. He was very much changed. His former expression of light-hearted gaiety had given way to one of dejection, even sullenness. His dress, usually so irreproachable, was conspicuous now by his untidy carelessness; and the springy gait, which had always been so characteristic of him, was gone. It was almost as if the breath of old age had passed over him, and in the passing had roughed the outlines of his youth.
"My! you do look bad, Mr. Arkel!" was Mrs. Perks' greeting. "Wot 'ave you been doin'?"
"Mourning for my uncle," retorted Gerald with a discordant laugh. "Having lost my benefactor, Mrs. Perks, you can't expect me to be very sprightly, eh? Is Miss Crane in?"
"Yes, sir, she is—you'll find 'er first door on the right there. I wonder what 'e wants with 'er," she mumbled, as Gerald made his way along the passage. "No good, I'll be bound. You've been drinkin' 'ard, young man, and wot's more, you'll come to no 'appy end, unless I'm much mistaken."
A knock at the door of the room in which Miriam was occupied at her morning's work caused her to bid her visitor to enter. She did not raise her eyes from her work. She was accustomed to be thus disturbed for some trivial matter or other in the morning. For half a minute Gerald stood there looking at her. How beautiful and composed her expression was! He faltered out her name. She paled at the sound of his voice, and rose slowly to her feet, repeating his name in a tone hardly less faltering. In silence their eyes met.
"You are surprised to see me?" said Gerald, throwing his hat on a chair and sitting down. "I got your address from Dundas. I thought you would not mind if I came and saw you."
A more serious expression came over her face as she looked at him.