"What, gone?"
"Yes, but she told us of his haunts--haunts that he thought she did not
know--a fancy shop, kept by a Mrs. Dench at Bristol, where it seems that
he plays the philanthropical lecturer, and probably has been trying to
secure a snug berth for himself unknown, as he thought, to Maria; but
she pried into his letters, and kept a keen watch upon him. He was to
be inquired for there by his Mauleverer name, and, I have little doubt,
will be captured."
"And then?"
"He will be committed for trial at the sessions; and, in the meantime,
I must see Beauchamp and Dr. Long, and arrange that he should be
prosecuted for the forgery, even though he should slip through our
fingers at the sessions."
"Oh, could that be?"
"This Clever Woman has managed matters so sweetly, that they might just
as well try her as him for obtaining money on false pretences; and the
man seems to have been wonderfully sharp in avoiding committing himself.
Mrs. Curtis's man of business has been trying all day to get up the
case, but he has made out nothing but a few more debts such as that
which turned up yesterday; and it is very doubtful how far a case can be
made out against him."
"And then we should lose him."
"That is exactly what I wish to avoid. I want to bring up my forces at
once, and have him laid hold of at once for the forgery of those letters
of Edward's. How long would it take to hear from Ekaterinburg? I suppose
Edward could travel as fast as a letter."
Alison fairly sprang to her feet.
"O, Colin, Colin! you do not think that Edward would be here by the next
sessions."
"He ought," said Colin. "I hope to induce Dr. Long and Harry to write
him such letters as to bring him home at once."
Self-restrained Alison was fairly overcome. She stretched out both
hands, pressed Colin's convulsively, then turned away her face, and,
bursting into tears, ran out of the room.
"Poor dear Ailie," said Ermine; "she has suffered terribly. Her heart is
full of Edward. Oh, I hope he will come."
"He must. He cannot be so senseless as to stay away."
"There is that unfortunate promise to his wife; and I fear that he is
become so much estranged from English ways that he will hardly care to
set himself straight here, after the pain that the universal suspicion
gave him."
"He cannot but care. For the sake of all he must care," vehemently
repeated Colin, with the punctilious honour of the nobly-born soldier.
"For his child's sake, this would be enough to bring him from his grave.
If he refused to return to the investigation, it would be almost enough
to make me doubt him."