"If it had not been for Walter being missing, aunt, I should have thought nothing of uncle's appointing Mr. Simcoe as heir to his property if anything should happen to him. This man had obtained an extraordinary influence over him, and there can be no doubt from uncle's statement to me that he owed his life solely to him, and that Simcoe indeed was seriously injured in saving him. He knew that I had no occasion for the money, and have already more than is good for a girl to have at her absolute disposal; therefore I am in no way surprised that he should have left him his estate in the event of Walter's death. All that is quite right, and I have nothing to say against it, except that I have always disliked the man. It is only the extraordinary disappearance of Walter, just at this moment, that seems to me to render it certain that Simcoe is at the bottom of it. No one else could have had any motive for stealing Walter, more than any other rich man's child. His interest in his disappearance is immense. I have no doubt uncle had told him what he had done, and the man must have seen that his chance of getting the estate was very small unless the child could be put out of the way."
"You don't think," Netta began, "that any harm can have happened to him?"
"No, I don't think that. Whether this man would have shrunk from it if there were no other way, I need not ask myself; but there could have been no occasion for it. Walter is so young that he will very soon forget the past; he might be handed over to a gypsy and grow up a little vagrant, and as there is no mark on him by which he might be identified, he would be lost to us forever. You see the man can afford to wait. He has doubtless means of his own—how large I do not know, but I have heard my uncle say that he had handsome chambers, and certainly he lived in good style. Now he will have this legacy of ten thousand pounds, and if the court keeps him waiting ten or fifteen years before pronouncing Walter dead, he can afford to wait. Anyhow, I shall have plenty of time in which to act, and it will require a lot of thinking over before I decide what I had best do."
She lost no time, however, in beginning to work. Posters offering the reward of five hundred pounds for information of the missing boy were at once issued, and stuck up not only in London, but in every town and village within thirty miles. Then she obtained from Mr. Pettigrew the name of a firm of trustworthy private detectives and set them to make inquiries, in the first place at all the institutions where a lost child would be likely to be taken if found, or where it might have been left by a tramp. Two days after the reading of the will she received the following letter from John Simcoe:
"Dear Miss Covington: I have learned from Messrs. Farmer & Pettigrew the liberal and I may say extraordinary generosity shown towards myself by the late General Mathieson, whose loss I most deeply deplore. My feelings of gratitude are at the present moment overwhelmed by the very painful position in which I find myself. I had, of course, heard, upon calling at your door to make inquiries, that little Walter was missing, and was deeply grieved at the news, though not at the time dreaming that it could affect me personally. Now, however, the circumstances of the case are completely changed, for, by the provisions of the will, I should benefit pecuniarily by the poor child's death. I will not for a moment permit myself to believe that he is not alive and well, and do not doubt that you will speedily recover him; but, until this occurs, I feel that some sort of suspicion must attach to me, who am the only person having an interest in his disappearance. The thought that this may be so is distressing to me in the extreme. Since I heard of his disappearance I have spent the greater part of my time in traversing the slums of London in hopes of lighting upon him. I shall now undertake wider researches, and shall to-day insert advertisements in all the daily papers, offering one thousand pounds for his recovery. I feel sure that you at least will not for a moment entertain unjust suspicions concerning me, but those who do not know me well may do so, and although at present none of the facts have been made public, I feel as if I were already under a cloud, and that men in the club look askance at me, and unless the child is found my position will speedily become intolerable. My only support in this trial is my consciousness of innocence. You will excuse me for intruding upon your sorrow at the present moment, but I felt compelled to write as I have done, and to assure you that I will use every effort in my power to discover the child, not only for his own sake and yours, but because I feel that until he is discovered I must continue to rest under the terrible, if unspoken, suspicion of being concerned in his disappearance.
"Believe me, yours very truly,
"John Simcoe."
CHAPTER XII.
DR. LEEDS SPEAKS.
After reading John Simcoe's letter, Hilda threw it down with an exclamation of contempt.