"I am quite aware of it. But let me explain why I have preferred it." She drew a long breath. Without she was prepared to tell a lie--nay, more than one--she felt sure that her request would run the risk of a refusal. Lies to her had ever been an abomination, but the aim she had set before herself was such as to leave her no option in the matter. When a man's life is at stake, and that the life of the person you love best in the world, the ordinary rules of conduct are apt to get mixed and blurred, and much may be forgiven. In such extreme cases black is liable to be regarded as white, and white as any color you please.
Miss Baynard had come prepared to answer objections, and she went on after a hardly observable pause.
"The fact of the matter is, Sir James, that Mr. Dare, in his more prosperous days, was the bosom friend of my late cousin, Dick Cortelyon, whose young son, as you are aware, has just inherited his grandfather's property. Well, it so happens that a couple of days ago, in turning over some letters and other effects which had belonged to my cousin, I came across a sort of rough diary which had been kept by him during the last year of his life. In it there is a passage in which he makes mention of a batch of rather important family papers which, after he had fallen into disgrace at home, he had entrusted to the keeping of Mr. Dare. Now, although I have sought for them high and low, I have failed to find any trace of the papers in question, and am consequently most anxious to ascertain from Mr. Dare what has become of them; indeed, I think it most likely that they are still somewhere in his keeping. Such is my reason, Sir James, for desiring an interview with him. If it could be arranged for to-day I should esteem it a great favor, as some very special business will take me from home to-morrow, and the date of my return is altogether uncertain."
"My dear Miss Baynard, not a word more is needed. I will at once write and give you a note, addressed to Captain Jeffs, the governor of the jail, authorizing him to permit you to have a private interview with the prisoner Dare. What a pity, what a damnable pity it is (begging your pardon) that a young fellow with good family and with the brilliant prospects which, I am given to understand, were once his, should have brought his kettle of fish to such a market as he seems to have done! But, as we make our bed, so must we lie on it. And now---- But, dear me! dear me! here am I running on without ever thinking to ask you what you will take in the way of refreshment. That's one of the fruits of being an old bachelor, and of having no womenfolk to keep me up to the mark and teach me not to forget the minor courtesies of life."
In the result, Nell agreed to accept a glass of the baronet's "particular old Madeira" and a biscuit. Not to have done as much as that would have been to infringe the unwritten laws of north-country hospitality.
Then said Sir James: "I had Lawyer Piljoy here t'other day. His purpose in coming was to tell me all about the lost child and its recovery, and a most amazing story it is; and, further, to consult with me as to what steps, if any, it is advisable to take in the affair. The first thing I did was to send for Staniforth, who was to have been your uncle's other trustee, and then we three laid our heads together. I need not bother you with reciting any of our arguments pro and con, but in the end we agreed that it would not, for various reasons, be advisable that any further proceedings should be taken in the matter. The child has been restored, which is the main thing to be borne in mind, and we felt pretty sure that no attempt would be made to abduct him a second time."
"You say, Sir James, that the child has been restored, which is quite true, but do you know whom we have to thank for it?"
"Haven't the remotest notion. I asked Piljoy how it came about, but he couldn't tell me. He said that if anybody knew, you did, but that beyond telling him it was the Honorable Mrs. B. who had abducted the youngster (what a she-cat that woman must be!) you had favored him with no particulars."
"It is to Mr. Geoffrey Dare, now a prisoner in Lanchester jail, that the child's recovery is due. It had been arranged that he--the boy--should be secretly transported to America, where we should never have heard of him more, when Mr. Dare, having discovered what was afoot, in the guise of a highwayman stopped the carriage in which he was being carried off, and rescued him from the wretches to whose charge he had been committed."
"Never heard of such a thing in my life, damme if I did! Um--um! I crave your pardon, my dear, but strong feelings have a way of finding their vent in strong language. And young Dare did that, did he? Well, well, we must see what can be done for him when his trial comes on. Such stuff as he seems made of is too good for the gallows. And now I will write you the promised note. I'm afraid you'll be a little later than the regulation hour for seeing prisoners, but maybe Jeffs will strain a point for once in a way. At any rate, I'll ask him to do so."