CHAPTER LXXIV.
Ada’s Home.—A Happy Scene.—The Serenity of Goodness.
Sir Francis Hartleton on that same evening was immersed in deep though on Ada’s prospects and affairs. So multifarious and complex had even what he knew concerning her and her fortunes become, putting aside all that he surmised, that now he had repaired to his own quiet little room, in which he was never interrupted and sat down, as much for the clearing of his own mind upon the subject, as for any other considerations, to write in detail all the various circumstances connected with the history and fortunes of Ada.
When he came fairly to separate what he knew from what he only surmised he felt much disappointed at the limited facts that really appeared upon paper, and as we have before intimated, he found himself in the disagreeable position of suspecting much and knowing little—able to surmise much more than he could prove, and morally certain of many things which he despaired of ever finding the means of making clear by proof.
The connection of Learmont with the same crimes in which Gray and Britton had been participators was very clear, but could he specify those crimes? It was not enough to say—“So and so is a criminal,” but it was necessary to tell and define such a charge; and Sir Francis Hartleton felt keenly all the advantage which such a man as Learmont would have over him, were he to make a loose and unsupported attack against him.
Having finished his narrative, Sir Francis sat in deep thought for more than an hour, but yet could not form any satisfactory conclusion, nor determine upon any course of action which would not be attended with what he considered the worst consequence of all, namely, putting Learmont thoroughly upon his guard.
He foresaw that he could not persevere, for a very long period of time, upon the unwilling and rather unprecedented power given to him by the Secretary of State, but that Jacob Gray must shortly be apprehended for the murder of Vaughan, when it was more than probable that all chance of discovering Ada’s real history through him would be lost; for what inducement could be offered to such a man as Gray to do an act of justice, when his own life could not by any possibility be spared, but must be taken by the hands of the law for a clear and distinct murder,—not to take into consideration the assassination of Elias, in the lone house at Battersea.
It had more than once occurred to the mind of the magistrate to search the ruins of the house in which Gray had resided, but then, as often, the extreme improbability of such a man leaving anything behind him of a character to criminate him in any way, saving the dead body of the murdered officer, came so strongly across him that he rejected as useless the attempt.
The smithy, too, at Learmont he longed to search effectually, but how could he do so without observation in such a place; and should such a proceeding come to the ears of Learmont, he might well complain of a trespass upon his own premises, for the purpose of endeavouring to get up some charge against him of a secret and undeclared nature.
“No,” exclaimed Hartleton, with disappointment, as he rose from his chair, “I must not. There is no resource but patience, and, for a short time, this man Gray, with all his crimes upon his head, must be suffered to remain at large, unless some meddling person apprehends him upon suspicion merely, in which case the law must take its course; for although I can and may take no steps to make him a prisoner, I dare not discharge him if once taken.”