The Lost Heir

by G. A. Henty

"I had now nothing to do but to wait until the right moment came. It came last night. The man arrived about seven o'clock. Johnstone was out, and I showed him upstairs. Simcoe was already dressed, and was in the sitting room. I lost no time, but went into the bedroom, where the gas was burning, turned down the bed on the side nearest to the door, and then went round, and with another corkscrew I had ready in my pocket took out the inner cork, got hold of the loop, and pulled the other one out also. Even had I had my hearing, I could have heard nothing of what was said inside, for the doors were of mahogany, and very well fitted, and Johnstone had said one day that even if a man shouted in one room he would hardly be heard in the next, or on the landing. I pushed a wedge under the door so as to prevent its being opened suddenly. That was the thing that I was most afraid of. I thought that Simcoe could hardly move without coming within my line of sight, and that I should have time to jump up and be busy at the bed before he could open the door. But I was not sure of this, so I used the wedge. If he tried the door and could not open it, he would only suppose that the door had stuck and I could snatch out the wedge and kick it under the bed by the time he made a second effort.

"Kneeling down, I saw to my delight that my calculations had been perfectly right. I could see the man's face well, for the light of the candles fell full upon it. They talked for a time about the club and the men they were going to dine with, and I began to be afraid that there was going to be nothing more, when the man said, 'By the way, Simcoe, I went down to Tilbury yesterday.' What Simcoe said, of course, I could not hear; but the other answered, 'Oh, yes, he is all right, getting quite at home, the man said; and has almost ceased to talk about his friends.' Then I saw him rise, and at once jumped up and went on turning down the bed, lest Simcoe should have forgotten something and come in for it. However, he did not, and two or three minutes later I peeped in again. The room was all dark, and I knew that they had gone. Then I put my corks in again, saw that the paint was all right, and went downstairs. I told Mrs. Johnstone that, if I could be spared, I should like to go out for two or three hours this morning to see a friend in service. It was the time that I could best be spared. I should have finished the sitting rooms by eight o'clock, and as none of the men have breakfast until about eleven, there was plenty of time for me to make the beds after I got back."

Hilda was crying now. Her relief that hearing that Walter was alive and well was unbounded. She had absolutely refused to recognize the body found in the canal, but she could not but admit that the probabilities were all against her. It was certain that the clothes were his, the child's age was about the same, the body must have been in the water the right length of time, the only shadow of evidence to support her was the hair. She had taken the trouble to go to two or three workhouses, and found that the coroner's assertion that soft hair when cut quite close will, in a very short time, stand upright, was a correct one. She kept on hoping against hope, but her faith had been yielding, especially since Netta's absence had deprived her of the support that she obtained from her when inclined to look at matters from a dark point of view.

"Oh, Netta," she cried, "how can I thank you enough! How happy the news has made me! And to think that I have been blaming you, while you have been doing all this. You cannot tell what a relief it is to me. I have thought so much of that poor little body, and the dread that it was Walter's after all has been growing upon me. I have scarcely slept for a long time."

"I know, dear. It was because I saw that though you still kept up an appearance of hope, you were really in despair, and could tell from your heavy eyes when you came down of a morning that you had hardly slept, that I made up my mind something must be done. There was no hardship whatever in my acting as a servant for a month or two. I can assure you that I regarded it rather as fun, and was quite proud of the credit that my master gave me. Now, the question is, shall I go back again?"

"Certainly not, Netta. You might be months there without having such a piece of luck again. At any moment you might be caught listening, or they might notice the hole that you made so cleverly. Besides, we have gained a clew now to Walter's hiding place. But even that is as nothing to me in comparison with having learned that he is alive and well, and that he has ceased to fret and is becoming contented in his new home. We can afford to wait now. Sooner or later we are sure to find him. Before, I pictured him, if still alive, as shut up in some horrible cellar. Now I can be patient. I think that we are sure to find him before long."

"Well, I think, dear," Miss Purcell said quietly, "that we had better ring the bell and have some fresh tea made. Everything is perfectly cold, for it is three-quarters of an hour since it came up."

Hilda rang the bell and gave the necessary orders.

"Let Janet bring the things up, Roberts, and come back yourself when you have given the order. I want to send a line to Dr. Leeds. You will be delighted to hear that Miss Purcell has learned, at least, that Walter is alive and well; but mind," she went on, as the old soldier was about to burst out into exclamations of delight, "you must keep this altogether to yourself. It is quite possible that we have been watched as closely as we have been watching this man, and that he may in some way learn everything that passes here; therefore it must not be whispered outside this room that we have obtained any news."

"I understand, miss. I won't say a word about it downstairs."