“Did you know who it was?” she asked in a whisper, after a pause.
“I guessed—and guessed correctly.”
“Who was it?”
“Bob Heritage.”
“And they have caught him?”
“Last night, hiding about the old farm-house. I went away yesterday in my yacht, because I had got wind of the search, and thought they were after me. This morning I came sneaking back to find out whether you were safe, and Crispin was on the scaur with the news.”
Freda listened to these details, conscious, though she would not have owned it, of a secret disappointment in the midst of her joy at learning her father’s innocence. In spite of the kindness he showed when he was with her, she was to him only an afterthought. He had made no provision for her safety yesterday, left her no directions for her protection in the time of trouble which was coming. One other consideration grieved her deeply: the shame and distress which had been lifted from her shoulders now fell upon those of poor Dick. These thoughts caused her to drop into a silence which her father made no attempt to break. While they were still sitting side by side without exchanging a word, they heard the click of the gate behind, and a man’s voice saying “Thank you” to the lodge-keeper. It was John Thurley.
Captain Mulgrave and he caught sight of each other at the same moment, and the former at once came down. The meeting between the two men was a strange one. Each held out his hand, but with diffidence. Thurley spoke first.
“Captain Mulgrave,” said he, “I am indeed sorry that I should have been the means of bringing justice down upon you. At the same time I must say I should have thought that a man who had served his country so well would be the last to have any hand in defrauding her.”
Captain Mulgrave laughed harshly.