"It is true, then," snarled the millionaire, "that you have been meddling with affairs that in no wise concern you. I warn you that your case in court will not have a leg to stand on."
"I prefer not to discuss the merits of the case," said Carrington quietly.
"I have been your host, sir; you have eaten at my table." Cavenaugh, as he spoke, was not without a certain dignity.
"All of which, recognizing the present situation, I profoundly regret."
"Good!" said grandpa. "Henry, if you had been the general they give you credit for, you would have offered Mr. Carrington that seventeen thousand two or three years ago. There is nothing so menacing to dishonesty as the free lance. Now, listen to me for a space. We'll come to the documentary evidence all in good time. I spoke of Caliban uplifted," ironically. "For years I have been treated as a pariah, as a beast of burden, as a messenger boy, as a go-between to take tricks that might have soiled my son's delicate hands. Father and son, yes; but in name only. Blood is thicker than water only when riches and ambition are not touched in the quick. This dutiful son of mine could easily have elevated me along with himself; but he would not do so. He was afraid that people might learn something of my past, which would greatly hinder his advancement. He prospered, he grew rich and arrogant; he put his heel on my neck, and I dared not revolt. You wouldn't believe it, would you, Mr. Carrington, that I was graduated with honors from Oxford University. I speak three tongues fluently, and have a smattering of a dozen others; am a doctor of philosophy, an Egyptologist. But I was indolent and loved good times, and so, you see, it came about that I fell into evil ways. Formerly, I was a burglar by profession."
He stopped, eying Carrington's stupefaction. The son gnawed his lips impotently.
"I was a master, after a fashion," resumed the old man, satisfied with his dénouement. "I committed a dozen splendid burglaries. I never left a trail behind. The police sought for me, but did not know me either by name or by sight. This was the sword my son kept over my neck. The slightest rebellion, and he threatened to expose me. Oh, I know the boy well enough; he would have done it in those days. Once extradited to England, thirty years ago, no one would have connected our names. Yet he was afraid of me; he wasn't sure that at any time the old desire would spring up renewed. I robbed to gratify my craving for excitement rather than to fill my purse. I made an unhappy marriage; something Kate nor Norah shall do while I live. Henry was clever. He made me an allowance of two hundred a month. And how do you suppose he arranged the payment? On the first day of the month he placed the cash in a safe in the house, and changed the combination. If I got the money without being caught it was mine; otherwise I went hungry. Ingenious idea, wasn't it? For I had all the excitement, and none of the peril of a real burglary. Henry forgot, yesterday, that it was the first of the month."
The millionaire found it impossible to remain seated. He rose and paced the floor, his brows knit, his hands clenched. He was at bay. Carrington felt as if he were in the midst of some mad dream.
"Sometimes I succeeded in opening the safe; and sometimes, when luck went against me for two or three months, Norah tipped me the combination. She dared not do it too often. So the months went on. Once a month I was permitted to visit my grandchildren. My son grew richer and richer; for myself, I remained in the valley of humiliation. I had no chance. I had never met any of my son's friends; he took good care that I did not; so they were in total darkness as to my existence. But the ball and chain were knocked off last night. Your papers are, after all, only an incident. Caliban revolts. Mr. Carrington, my son! Oh, I am proud of him. I believed the genius for robbery was mine. I am a veritable tyro beside Henry. Half a dozen millions from the pockets of the poor at one fell swoop! Where's your Robin Hood and his ilk? But it isn't called robbery; it is called high finance."
He applied a match to his dead cigar and thoughtfully eyed his son.