Those red-handed villains continue their insolent defiance of outraged law. For more than a generation one victim has been waiting avenging. Still the murdered ward lifts unavailing hands toward brassy heavens, imploring just reckoning upon her brutal slayer. Over earth and sea, in unmerited exile, wanders an unfortunate victim of lying circumstance, fearless to a fault of personal harm, yet bound by filial fetters in unswerving fealty to family prestige and parental name. Doting father and mother sit around a desolate hearth, helpless to help, powerless to temper or withdraw the barbed arrow which has transfixed their souls. Tenderly fostered, idolized daughter, modestly brilliant, grandly human, with strong, sweet penchant toward self-sacrifice and for lowly, unassuming ministry, yet love-loyal to banished suitor, must bide uncertain issues, enduring that heartsickness which may find no specific.
These rasping human paradoxes are warrant for much bewildering thought. At such even Sir Donald Randolph's speculative, complacent optimism well may stagger.
How ironical seems talk of "time's compensation"! Who now may prate, "Evil is good misunderstood"? Surely such cogent blending requires some powerfully focalized far observatory height!
As to London detective tactics, Sir Donald is becoming pessimistic. To Esther he says: "Indeed, there is little in results to justify further employment of this much vaunted agency. That there have been perplexities I am fully aware. Having given the subject such careful thought, I am not disposed either to minimize obstacles or to cavil at well-meant efforts.
"Upon review of incidents in this fruitless pursuit, I am impressed with the fact that all clews obtained came from your infatuation for hungry or sick people. The Paris hospital confession, finding of Mary Dodge in Calcutta suburb seclusion, revelations of this unhappy sufferer from Lanier subornation, and saving of both intended victims through timely intervention at that deserted house—all are due to your unconscious coöperation.
"I fail to see that I have directly contributed to these discoveries. It is not apparent that any of my well-matured plans even promised success. Every subtly framed purpose has failed.
"London sleuths are camping on cold trails, tracing misleading clews, poising for unavailing swoop upon flown quarry, densely ignorant of real Lanier purposes. These highly paid pursuers of ever-eluding outlaws knew nothing of that murderous assault upon William and Mary Dodge until after I had cabled the news to London. Their shifts had been so ineffective that no plausible theory could be advanced for farcical arrests, unwarranted detentions, failure to prosecute for undisputed felonious assaults, strange releases, or continued custody of the intended victim.
"But for my promise made to Oswald Langdon, I now might abandon this search. There seems no justification for further employment of detectives. The expense has been large. Results are unimportant.
"That fellow so trustingly followed my advice, and promptly sailed without purposed haven on the tramp steamer, it now would be heartless desertion not to continue even doubtful agencies in solution of this most vexing problem."
Sir Donald well knows that his daughter feels interest in the success of this pursuit. Though mute as to proposed tactics, her startled mien, hopeful inquiring glances, close attention, quivering lips, turned-away, drooping eyelids, reserved silences, and far-off looks, cannot dissemble. Sir Donald sees these signs and interprets them aright. To Esther he says: "I will continue this undertaking. Loyalty to human duty shall be my concern. Results may owe other allegiance. There may be accounting for those interlopers who, crossing boundaries of warranted care, trespass upon exclusive 'preserves' of more imperious power. Such presumption may be 'les majeste' against Providence."