“It is hers!” he cried. “The poor little fool has undoubtedly fallen into the water, and is drowned. Well, since I could not conquer her and make her my wife—or my slave—to do my will blindly, through fear of me, the next best thing will be to manage the daughter. I think, with my hold over Violet (she is a high-strung, honorable little creature), I may hope to handle the Arleigh fortune yet. ‘It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good,’ and I intend to make the best of existing circumstances. There is no doubt in my mind (how could any one doubt it?) that Rosamond is drowned. She has certainly fallen down the bank to the stream below, and how could it be possible for her to escape from that cold, black flood in the gloom and darkness of the night? It is just impossible. Why, a strong man and a good swimmer would have great difficulty in getting out of that black flood. I think there is no doubt that I am safe; I feel sure of it. Her escape is just impossible.”
Just impossible! Ah, Gilbert Warrington, you forget that there is One who watches over the helpless and unprotected, and that “there is nothing impossible with God.”
At last, tired out by his fruitless search, he crept slowly and with difficulty up the bank, and in the early morning, which was just beginning to dawn, he stood once more beside the carriage with a disappointed look upon his sullen face.
“Curse her!” he panted, harshly; “that woman has been the bane of my life. She has led me a fine chase from first to last. But she is dead now; I am sure of that. How could she survive such a fall? and the water is very deep; and I happen to know that she can not swim a stroke. Well, well! I’ve had a hard night’s work, and all for nothing. Now I must get back and dispose of the team and carriage in some way to avert suspicion from myself.”
He sprung upon the box once more and drove rapidly away, satisfied that his prisoner must have perished in the black waters of the stream, yet keeping a sharp lookout all the time, from his position upon the box, lest something might have happened to save her from the fate to which he had mentally consigned her.
But all search was vain. He found nothing; saw no trace of anything which reminded him of the missing woman. He drove rapidly back, not to The Oaks, but to the adjacent village—to Doctor Danton’s house. There he left the carriage and horses as though they had simply run away, only to bring up at last at their own stable. And so indeed Doctor Danton believed when late in the day, tired and disappointed, chagrined and angry with himself and the whole world at large, he returned home and found the tired and hungry horses, with the carriage looking none the worse for wear, standing at the open door of the stable, demurely waiting for some one to attend to their wants. Tom’s story of the assault upon him while seated upon the carriage box, patiently awaiting the coming of his master, was set down to the phantasies of his own brain overpowered by sleep; and then he must have fallen from the high box of the carriage to the ground below, where, striking his head against the gnarled roots of a huge oak-tree, he had been stunned and lost consciousness. After which, no doubt, the horses, finding themselves without a driver, had coolly run away. This was Doctor Danton’s solution of the mystery, though that greater mystery, the strange disappearance of his patient, he could not possibly account for; yet there was no one to contradict his theory or set it right. So this was the story that he repeated to Dunbar, the detective. That gentleman listened in silence, and his face grew very thoughtful and grave.
“Let me see the carriage,” he said, breaking the pause of silence which had fallen suddenly upon the close of the physician’s speech.
Without a word, Doctor Danton led the way to the stable. It was useless to talk over the matter. To him it was as plain as possible.
Dunbar made a thorough examination of the interior of the carriage, while the physician stood quietly by, watching him with a slight smile. It all seemed so foolish.
But, at length, with a low cry of triumph, the detective emerged from the vehicle, where he had been half-hidden, and held up in one hand before the doctor’s astonished eyes a small object.