My feelings were rather queerly mingled. I had not been in the least successful in conveying to Dave my discovery of his innocence—or rather my belief, for it was not yet quite so much a discovery as I was forced to acknowledge to myself, and it did not seem an opportune time for imparting the good news of the telegram.
But I decided to share my delight with Cyrus; it might be cheering, in the midst of the business troubles, to know that Dave had had some success.
“A design?” repeated Cyrus dubiously, after I had explained all the circumstances of my discovery. “O dear, has he gone to drawing again? I hoped that was all over!” I don’t think that Cyrus really understood so clearly as he might have done if Alice Yorke’s soft voice, mingled with Dave’s manly tones, had not come floating constantly to our ears.
“But it is a real triumph to have his design chosen from among so many!” I insisted. “And he will be paid for it—perhaps a great deal.”
“I hope he will,” said Cyrus, with a doubtful accent. “I hoped he might develop some business talent, but I’m afraid there is no chance of that. Probably he has been doing that sort of thing and giving his mind to it all the time. But he has behaved well!”
There was no grudging in Cyrus’ tone; it was said heartily. He looked at his watch.
“I have some letters to write. I really ought to go back to the counting-room,” he said, and gathered his long length up decidedly from the pile of boards. I was vexed with what I thought his stupidity and yet I longed to offer him a little comfort.
“Cyrus, he didn’t do it! Dave didn’t do that dreadful thing!” I whispered hoarsely. “I almost know the whole mystery.”
Cyrus looked at me in an absent, bewildered way. “If he did do it, he is in a fair way to live it down,” he replied. “Everything must be done to help him, everything!” There was an accent that seemed as if the man’s whole soul were in it and his voice actually trembled. “But I wish he would give up that drawing.”
Cyrus, despairing of his own business capacity, had been indulging in a stronger hope than he would own, or perhaps had even been conscious of, that Dave would develop something of the kind. Perhaps it was not to be expected that he should be elated as I was over the success of the design.