“Yes, I know. Mr Pelham, his counsel, called on me just after lunch, and told me so,” said the girl tearfully. “But oh! he seemed so hopeless of the result. The prosecution, he said, would bring forward the most damning evidence against him. Can it be true, Sir Houston? Do you really think it is true?”
“No, I don’t,” was the prompt, straightforward answer. “Nothing will ever cause me to suspect Sainsbury to be guilty of espionage. He’s far too good an Englishman to accept German gold.”
“Then you believe him to be innocent!” cried the girl, her fair countenance brightening with a ray of hope.
“Yes, I do. He’s the victim of some dastardly plot. That’s my firm belief. And yet it is so strange that his friend Jerrold committed suicide.”
“But was Dr Jerrold a spy? That is the question!”
“It seems quite true that a warrant had been issued for his arrest upon a charge of war-treason,” Sir Houston replied. “Why didn’t he try and face it?”
The girl, pale and agitated, sat in silence, her gloved hands lying idly on her lap before her. Those awful weeks of anxiety had left traces upon her face, now thin and worn. And she felt that her lover’s fate was sealed unless he could clear himself. In desperation she had sought the great doctor, and he had been most thoughtful and sympathetic.
“I think,” he went on in a kindly voice, “I think it would be best, Miss Shearman, if you went home, and remained there in patience. You know that Mr Pelham is a sharp lawyer, and, being quite alive to the seriousness of the situation, he will do his very utmost for his client. Go quietly home, and await the result of our combined efforts,” he urged sympathetically. “I am meeting Mr Trustram again at five o’clock. Believe me, Mr Trustram is not inactive, while I, too, am doing my level best in your lover’s interests.”
“Oh! thank you,” cried the girl, tears standing in her fine blue eyes. “You are both so good! I—I don’t know how to thank you both,” and, unable to further restrain her emotion, she suddenly burst into tears.
Quickly he rose and, placing his hand tenderly upon her shoulder, he uttered kind and sympathetic words, by which she was at length calmed; and presently she rose and left the room, Sir Houston promising to report to her on the morrow.