How it distressed her, to tell again this story which might take away a human life, was manifest from the trembling of her sweet voice, the painful twitching of her tender mouth, and the tears that rose so readily to her soft eyes.
“Oh, Mr. Headland, I can hardly reconcile myself to having done it even yet,” she said pathetically. “I do not know this Mr. Barrington-Edwards but by sight, and it seems such a horrible thing to rise up against a stranger like that. But I couldn’t keep it any longer; I felt that to do so would be equivalent to sharing his guilt, and the thought that if I kept silent I might possibly be paving the way to the sacrifice of other innocent lives almost drove me out of my mind.”
“I can quite understand your feelings, Miss Valmond,” said Cleek, touched to the very heart by the deep distress of her. “But may I say I think you have done right? I never yet knew Heaven to be anything but tender to those who do their duty, and you certainly have done yours—to yourself, to your fellow creatures, and to God!”
Before she could make any response to this, footsteps sounded from the outer passage, and a deep, rich, masculine voice said, “Rose, Rose dear, I am ready now,” and almost in the same moment a tall, well-set-up man in priestly clothing crossed the threshold and entered the room. He stopped short as he saw the others and made a hasty apology.
“Oh, pardon me,” he said. “I did not know that you had visitors, dear, otherwise——Eh, what? Mr. Narkom, is it not?”
“Yes, Mr. Valmond,” replied the superintendent, holding out a welcoming hand. “It is I, and this is my friend and assistant, Mr. George Headland. We have just been talking with your sister over her trying experience.”
“Terrible—terrible is the proper word, Mr. Narkom. Like you, I never heard of it until to-day. It shocked me to the very soul, you may believe. Delighted to meet you, Mr. Headland. A new disciple, eh, Mr. Narkom? Another follower in the footsteps of the great Cleek? By the way, I see you have lost touch with that amazing man. I saw your advertisement in the paper the other day. Any clue to his whereabouts as yet?”
“Not the slightest!”
“Ah, that’s too bad. From what I have heard of him he would have made short work of this present case had he been available. But pray pardon me if I rush off, my time is very limited. Rose, dear, I am going to visit Father Burns this evening and shall stop at the orphanage on the way, so if you have the customary parcel for the children——”
“It is upstairs, in my oratory, dear,” she interposed. “Come with me—if the gentlemen will excuse us for a moment—and I will get it for you.”