CHAPTER XXIII
BLAKE’S CONFESSION
Evelyn went to the musical comedy and the excursion carried a thrill. She was young, and to steal off with Ledward was something of an adventure. Ledward knew Evelyn better than she imagined and he humored her cleverly. Although he declared her going was justified, he contrived to give the excursion a touch of intimate secrecy. Evelyn had inherited some skill for intrigue, and she rather liked to feel she and Harry were conspirators. In fact, she admitted that for all to know she went with him would rob the evening of its charm.
Three or four days afterwards Evelyn and a young relation started for the post-office at a Surrey village. A long row of red-roofed houses began by the railway and stopped at the wide heath; the tarred road and high telegraph posts went on to London. Mrs. Haigh had not gone back to town, and Evelyn began to feel that she was bored. Her hosts were not fashionable, and the people she met did not interest her. Then Hannah Grant was recently from school, and a raw girl’s society had not much charm.
By and by a car crossed the heath and stopped by the post-office. The driver called a telegraph boy and then went slowly up the street as if he looked for a house. After a few moments Evelyn’s dulness vanished; the man was Harry Ledward and she knew he looked for Mrs. Grant’s. She waved and he stopped by the path.
“The weather’s good and when I got to the office Jasper stated I might take a holiday,” he said. “I thought I’d look you up and risk your being occupied. What does one do here on a fine afternoon?”
“We play golf,” Evelyn replied. “Sometimes we go for a walk.”
Ledward smiled and Hannah Grant gave him an approving look.
“Sometimes one gets deadly bored,” she remarked. “Well, we can give you tea and polite conversation, but perhaps you’d like a round of golf? My handicap’s thirty and Evelyn foozles.”
“I’ve another plan,” said Ledward. “I wonder whether you and Evelyn would like to run to town? But perhaps you go often and it does not attract you much?”
“I go when return tickets are cheap,” Hannah replied. “If you want to take Evelyn, you must take me. Mother and Mrs. Haigh are very proper, but I don’t mind admitting I am not. Besides I’d love to go!”
“Then, jump up. Where’s your house?”
“At the end of the row; the pond is in front. Father declares it gives the spot a rural touch and he likes the white ducks. The drawback is the ducks are not its only occupants.... But get in, Evelyn. Your part’s to persuade mother.”
“To begin with, we must persuade Evelyn,” said Ledward and started the car.
Hannah smiled, but she said nothing, and when they stopped at a new rough-cast house Ledward was not forced to use much persuasion.
“I wonder whether you would like to see a play,” he said to Mrs. Haigh. “There’s a rather good matinee, and I would drive you down in the evening. The car carries four passengers.”
Mrs. Haigh and Mrs. Grant refused politely, but they agreed for Evelyn and Hannah to go. The girls went off to get other clothes, and Hannah stopped for a moment at Evelyn’s room.
“I like the lean, dark type, and Mr. Ledward’s rather fat; otherwise I think him top-hole,” she said. “You feel he knows something; and for the most part very young men are fools. Your mother’s a sport, but since you have a lover in Canada, perhaps her letting you go was strange.”
“Harry’s an old friend and almost like a relation,” Evelyn replied and sent Hannah off, but when she shut the door she pondered.
Kit was in Canada. There was the trouble, because Evelyn felt he need not have gone. She knew he had not cheated the shipyard company. Kit did not cheat, but he was ridiculously proud and he ought not to be generous where his generosity cost her much. Harry, of course, was another sort, and Evelyn knew him selfish, but she approved his cleverness, and to some extent he attracted her. Anyhow, she liked excitement, and in a few days she would be back at Netherdale. She got up and thoughtfully studied her clothes and hats.
A week or two afterward, Jasper, going to a Cumberland ironworks, stopped for the week-end at Netherhall. The evening he arrived was cold and a savage wind beat the thick walls. After dinner the party went to the drawing-room fire, and by and by a servant carried in a card.
“The gentleman is in the hall.”
Alan Carson took the card and turned to Jasper. “Thomas Blake; a Glasgow address! Looks like a business card. I don’t know the fellow. Perhaps a shipbuilding customer has got on your track.”
“I’ll see what he wants,” said Jasper and went off with the servant.
A fire burned in the big hall, but only one lamp was lighted and the illumination did not carry far. A young man and woman waited by the fireplace and got up when Jasper advanced. The girl’s look was embarrassing and her face was pinched by cold. Her clothes were ordinary outdoor clothes, and Jasper thought them cheap. The young man’s look was resolute.
“Mr. Carson? Christopher Carson’s uncle?” he inquired.
Jasper was interested. He thought Blake wanted Alan, but he did not yet know if the young fellow ought to see him.
“Christopher is my nephew. Perhaps you were his friend at the shipyard?”
“He thought me his friend,” the other replied and indicated Mrs. Blake. “I could not leave my wife in the car; when we were on the moors the wind broke the hood. Besides, I rather wanted her support.”
Jasper turned and pointed to a seat in the corner by the big grate.
“When the Hellan wind blows down the fells the cold is keen,” he said, and rang for a servant. “Bring some wine and sandwiches, and let Mrs. Carson know I’ll be engaged for a time.”
Mrs. Blake drained her glass and went to the fire, for she was very cold and bore some strain. Jasper knitted his brows and waited. Mabel thought he harmonized with the big austere hall and dark panelling, but somehow he was like Kit, and she was vaguely comforted. Blake pushed back his glass.
“I thank you for your kindness to my wife, but I mustn’t take your hospitality. Well, I was at Newcastle and I resolved to see you. To begin with, do you know where Kit Carson is?”
“Kit is in Canada. Perhaps I could find him, but I don’t know.”
“You imply that you were willing to leave him alone?” said Mrs. Blake. “Well, Kit need not have gone! You must tell him he need not and you must try to bring him back——”
Jasper had begun to see a light, and he gave Mrs. Blake a smile. “It looks as if my nephew had a strong champion; but I doubt if he would come back. He is independent, and I understand he’s satisfied in Canada. You might, however, state your grounds for thinking he need not have gone, unless, perhaps, your husband feels he ought to do so.”
Mrs. Blake was puzzled. When Kit talked about his uncle he said Alan was a kind old fellow and a good sort, but somehow Mabel had pictured a rather futile country sportsman. Carson, however, was not at all like the portrait Kit had unconsciously drawn. Jasper saw she was puzzled and thought he could account for it. Then Blake faced him as if he tried to brace up.
“If you will give me a few minutes, I’ll try to enlighten you. When Kit was at the shipyard he was our friend and was often at our flat. Perhaps you know about the small, fast steamer we built for a foreign government?”
Jasper nodded. “Your boat was beaten. The opposition yard used a better boiler.”
“They used our boiler. You see, the head draftsman and Kit had worked out improvements we could not patent. The opposition people bought the plans.”
“The company is large and important. I doubt if the directors would agree to bribe a competitor’s servant.”
“It’s possible the directors did not know. Managers and secretaries transact the business, and perhaps you can picture an ambitious head draftsman’s saying nothing. Then, the bribe was not very large, and might be charged to an account. As a rule directors don’t investigate——”
“All are not confiding,” Jasper remarked dryly. “However, your employers believed somebody did sell the plans, and Kit was implicated.”
“That is so, sir,” said Blake, and his face got red. “Kit had nothing to do with it. I stole the plans!”
“Ah!” said Jasper. “Now I begin to see why you wanted Mrs. Blake’s support! I suppose she urged you to make your rather late confession?”
“Tom was slow, Mr. Carson, but it was for my sake he took the bribe,” said Mrs. Blake. “His pay was small and he had debts he did not want me to bother about. All the same, I cannot justify him; there is no proper apology.”
“How long have you known your husband’s part?” Jasper inquired.
Mrs. Blake blushed, but she faced the stern old man. Although his look was daunting, somehow she was not afraid.
“I think I knew for some time. At all events, I knew Kit did not steal the plans, but I hated to think Tom did so. Then to inquire got harder; I dared not run the risk. All the same, I was bothered about Kit. He did not write and we could get no news, but we knew he had not much money.”
Jasper nodded. A woman’s habit was to fight for her child, and perhaps she was justified.
“Kit, no doubt, intimated that his relations were not poor.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Blake, “so long as you thought him dishonest, we knew he would not take your help!”
“I rather think you know my nephew,” Jasper remarked, and turned to Blake. “Well, at length you allowed your wife to persuade you to be honest! Since the company could not send you to jail, frankness would not have cost you very much at the beginning.”
“I was afraid for my post, sir. Had the company sent me off, I was done for. Then my luck began to turn. I patented an invention, a manufacturer was interested. The thing began to go, and now we have started a workshop——”
“You are not rash,” said Jasper dryly. “When you no longer wanted your post, you resolved to vindicate your pal! Have you informed the shipyard manager that Kit is innocent?”
“When I get to Glasgow I’ll write a letter,” Blake replied with some embarrassment. “I thought I’d first see you and find out where Kit was.”
Jasper knitted his brows. Blake obviously thought him Alan, but Alan must not meet the fellow. For a time he would sooner the others did not know Kit was vindicated. Jasper was sorry for Mrs. Blake; the car’s hood was broken and she had not proper clothes. For all that, he must let her go.
“You must write to Mr. Colvin; but you had better state you have informed me,” he said to Blake. “I doubt if you can cross the moors, but there is an inn not far aff.”
“We must get back to the main road; we telegraphed for a room at a Carlisle hotel.”
“It will be some time before you get to Carlisle, and Mrs. Blake will need food,” said Jasper.
Mabel ate some sandwiches and forced one or two on Blake, and then Jasper let them go. When they started he went back to the drawing-room.
“The fellow was an engineer and his wife was with him,” he said to Mrs. Carson. “I gave them some wine and sandwiches.”
“Of course,” said Mrs. Carson. “Since he did not stop for the storm, I expect his business was important.”
“In a way it was important,” Jasper agreed.