Then again, George wished to do something for Canning. The man was a wastrel and a ne'er-do-weel and had no one to take an interest in him: but he had done Lesbia a service at considerable risk, and it was only fair that he should be rewarded. Undoubtedly he belonged to the gang of clever thieves, but he had repented sufficiently of his wickedness to help the lovers, whom the gang--or at least three members of it--had desired to destroy. This service should be recompensed, especially as Canning could not remain in England without being exposed to the vengeance of his former associates. George determined to lay the case before Lord Charvington, and ask him to help. Failing any aid being forthcoming in this quarter, George intended to take Canning to Australia or Canada with him, and there start the man on a new career. Canning was not an old man and there was ample time for him to redeem the shortcomings of his youth. He was not inherently wicked as were his brother and Hale, but merely weak.
On arriving at The Court, George was at once shown into the library wherein Lord Charvington was waiting for him. The old man arose courteously and came forward with outstretched hand. He appeared to be pleased that George had kept his appointment so punctually, and expressed himself with great cordiality. "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Walker," he said, when the two were again seated. "I knew your father."
"My mother also, I believe, sir," said George.
Charvington's face changed. "I have not seen Mrs. Walker for many a long day," he remarked in a low voice, "perhaps we may meet again, but----" he paused to ask an abrupt and extraordinary question. "Does your mother ever speak ill of me?" he demanded, his eyes eagerly searching the young man's face.
"No," answered George, much astonished. "She has scarcely mentioned your name. Why should she speak ill of you?"
"I thought that Hale might have--but that is neither here nor there. It is enough for you to know, Mr. Walker, that I knew your mother and her sister over thirty years ago. We all three knew Hale also, and he caused trouble. He would cause trouble still if he could, but I think this last escapade of his will keep him quiet."
"Did you know my aunt Miss Katherine Morse?" asked George, astonished.
"Yes," Charvington rested his head on his hand and drew figures on the blotting-paper, "but why do you speak of her by her maiden name? She was married, you know."
"I don't know her married name. My mother never mentions it. Perhaps," George hesitated, "perhaps she doesn't know it."
"Yes, she does," answered Charvington, still drawing, "so does Hale. Your aunt died in his house at Wimbledon remember. I understood from Jabez that Hale had admitted as much."