“He escaped, and no search was ever made for him?” cried Mr. Bradbury. “Do you expect us to believe that, Roger Galt? Why, man, it’s unbelievable!”
Galt muttered, “I’ve heard tell—Mother Mag’s cackled over it when in drink—another was put aboard in his place; another went overseas as Adam Baynes—someone they wanted to get out of England.”
“How long,” asked Mr. Bradbury, “since Captain Phillip sailed?”
“Ten years since, to my thinking,” the justice answered reflectively.
“Ten years since!” repeated Mr. Bradbury; and, as understanding of his theory came upon me, I gasped, and stared wildly at him,—he cried out sharply, “Sir Gavin! Bid a couple of fellows go with my men from Bow Street, and seek Charles Craike. His rooms are immediately above us! Bid them seek him there, and, if he have not fled yet, bring him here! That will do, Galt. Go!”
I caught at Mr. Bradbury’s arm, and would have sought an answer of him to my thoughts and terrors; he did not heed me, but, speaking swiftly and with agitation growing upon him, he burst out, “Sir Gavin, at whatever risk of falling in with Blunt’s men, and being worsted by them and the rogues of this place and the Stone House—for surely they’ve all gone scurrying for the Stone House this night—we must ride for the Stone House. I’ve sent for Charles Craike here, to question him; for surely he’ll lie to us—and to delay him, if he think to go thither this night. For, ten years since, Mr. Richard Craike disappeared from home and wife and son in London; and for ten years has not been heard of. If, Sir Gavin, it should be—it is the wildest fancy—that Richard Craike went overseas in place of Adam Baynes? If this should be?”
“Bradbury—surely!” gasped Sir Gavin. “It could not be!”
“Ay, ay; but if it should be, and if Richard Craike’s escaped—come home to England; if Richard Craike was on his road to Craike House yesterday; and Martin Baynes, Blunt’s men—came upon him? For, surely, Richard Craike coming home, and seeking wife and son in London, and finding no trace of them, would hurry hither. And if Richard Craike’s again in the hands of his enemies at the Stone House?”
“If! If!” cried the justice. “The maddest of fancies, Bradbury!”
“No! For the woman comes in the night to Charles Craike. And the woman says ‘Adam Baynes’ come home again!’ And Charles Craike—looks like death—at the very words!”