So said the irate clergyman, to whom the detective replied—
“My dear sir, when you have lived a little longer, you will perhaps have a better understanding of the difficulties of my profession. The man whom I did watch tallied exactly with the description of the man I was instructed to watch, and it is not my fault that it turns out to be the brother-in-law whom I have shadowed. I do not believe Cochrane has been near the house.”
“Perhaps you are right. But my vexation is none the less, for, somehow, every effort I have made, so far, has resulted in nothing but disappointment.”
“Well, it’s a long lane that never has a turning, and Cochrane is evidently dubious as to his safety and has chosen to obliterate himself for a while. We may take it for granted that he won’t join the ‘Merry Maid’ again. Nor will the share of the stolen diamonds which he was seen with at Valetta be enough to support him permanently. I should imagine he will change his name and set up in some other line of business in London or its vicinity. If you care to empower me to do so, I will employ one of my men to investigate, and report the appearance of the proprietors of new enterprises, preferably those of a quiet, shady nature.”
“London is such a big place, that we are as likely to stumble across our man in the street, as to discover him in the way you suggest. But I suppose it will be as well to be watchful.”
It was only too true. Once more, when apparently on the eve of success, our friends had been most bitterly disappointed by the discovery that their quarry had escaped them. For a week his whilom home was carefully watched, but he did not put in an appearance there, and, after awhile, it was discovered that his relatives were greatly distressed about him, as he had neither visited them nor acquainted them with his place of abode for some time past.
All things considered, Harley’s prospects of release seemed no better than they were at the time of his conviction. But it was at least a little satisfactory to learn that his health had so far not suffered quite so much as had been feared. His mother, too, bore up wonderfully under all her trials, and expressed her firm faith in the ultimate restoration of her son’s liberty and reputation. Hilton’s fate had been a great blow to her at first. Then, much to the surprise of friends, she declined to believe that he was really dead, in spite of the evidence that was forthcoming to that effect.
“Depend upon it,” she said, “God wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive me of both my boys. I shall yet see them happy and well.”
After a time nobody tried to argue her out of this belief, for it comforted her, and kept her from sinking into the despondency that would otherwise have overwhelmed her. Miss Margaret Cory was, as usual, a comfort and a consolation to everybody. Mr. Cory was glad to be at home again, but was as determined as ever to pursue his investigations further. Annie—quiet, subdued, and sad—was yet unremittent in her efforts to gain information likely to be useful. As time wore on, she became more brave, nay, positively daring, and showed such skill in safely following up clues that her father no longer felt any uneasiness about her, even though her absences from home were often unexpectedly lengthened.
The family had removed to a new house in a neighbourhood to which they were strange, and none but themselves knew that she was a daughter of the house, since, for prudential reasons, she had retained her masculine clothing, without which it would not have been so easy for her to penetrate unobserved into all sorts of places. Of course the case had been put into the hands of an official detective, who, however, was as much at a standstill as they were.