The Ponson case

by Freeman Wills Crofts

‘Yes.’

‘And has he made no statement about what took place in the boathouse?’

‘None. But, Mr Ponson, that remark implies to me that you were there yourself and know.’

Austin looked sharply at the speaker.

‘I didn’t say so,’ he answered dryly, ‘but—stop, let me think a moment.’

For some minutes silence reigned in the gloomy cell. To Daunt it had seemed as if his client was on the verge of a confession, and he wondered if one more sordid story was to be added to the list of those to which the grey walls of this grim apartment had in all probability listened. Austin sat motionless, his mind evidently engrossed with some problem, the solution of which eluded him. But at last he seemed to find it. Straightening himself up, he faced the solicitor.

‘This news you have brought makes a tremendous difference to me,’ he said. ‘From my point of view there is no longer any reason why the events of that tragic night should not be known. I have remained silent for two reasons. First, because of my mother. The thought of her learning that she was still the wife of that drunken scoundrel was more than I could bear. You’ll understand my feelings—the whole thing is so painful I hate to speak of it. Then there was another reason. I made the unforgivable blunder of being afraid to tell Miss Drew. I have paid for that already, and every bit of that payment I deserve ten times over. I distrusted her. I thought if the circumstances of my birth came out she might have nothing more to do with me. And I just couldn’t risk that. You see, it was not as if there had been any deliberate evil on my parents’ part. Both were utterly innocent, and even ignorant that anything was wrong. Therefore I could not see that I was called upon to chance the wrecking of my happiness on what was after all a mere technical matter only. God forgive me, I did not intend to tell that angel. I feared the stigma would remain. Well, I have suffered for it. As I ought to have known, she was above a petty feeling of that sort. I should have told her the moment I knew of the matter myself. I should have told Tanner everything at the start. Much trouble would have been saved. And now it may be too late. I may not be believed.’

‘I don’t know, of course, what you propose to tell,’ said Daunt as the other paused, ‘but as your legal adviser I should warn you to be very careful of what you say to anyone. If you care to tell your story to me, I shall be pleased to advise you as to what, if any of it, should be made public.’

‘I suppose that would be wisest,’ Austin returned, ‘but I have quite made up my mind. From the first I decided to tell all I knew if the secret of my parentage came out. That was the only reason for my silence. Indeed, I was coming to the conclusion I must tell in any case, even if I myself had to reveal it. I appreciate your offer and under other circumstances would gladly avail myself of your advice, but whatever the consequences, I am going to tell. But I by no means wish the affair to be made public. I want most of all to tell Miss Drew, I would like to tell you, and I must tell Tanner. If you will help me by making this possible, I will be for ever your debtor. One other thing, I should like Cosgrove to know my decision. It is only due to him. Can you arrange these matters?’

‘I think so. But I cannot but feel you may be making a mistake in not first taking, I don’t say my advice, but the advice of some legal man. I cannot move you on that point?’