“Please don’t prejudge him. That wicked old man is at the back of all.”
“Well, that is just what we have now to find out.”
Laura assented; yet then arose the question as to the means by which the truth could be won. It was likely to resolve itself into an affair of William’s word against the word of his master. Whoever could tell the more plausible tale would be believed; and William’s friend saw from the outset that Circumstance had already weighted the scales heavily against him. On the face of it, the story as disclosed by the poor girl who was now in the Hospital, was frankly incredible.
Recollection of the pitiful scene of the previous night brought to Laura Babraham’s mind her own urgent duty in the matter. The girl had begged her not on any account to give up the picture. So long as sense and coherence remained the unlucky creature had declared it to be her own lawful property. Laura had solemnly promised to see justice done, and it behooved her now to be as good as her word.
“I suppose, papa, you have telephoned already to Mr. Gedge?”
“The Hospital has, I believe,” said Sir Arthur. “I particularly asked them to do so. The old fellow must be very anxious about the girl, and perhaps even more anxious about his Van Roon.”
“Please don’t say ‘his Van Roon’ before he’s proved the ownership.”
“That won’t be difficult, I fear.”
“We must make it as difficult for him as we can,” said the tenacious Laura.
Sir Arthur shook his head. As a man of the world, he had but scant hope that the mystery would be cleared up in the way Laura desired.