OF PROVED IDENTITY
Spargo sat again in the chair which he had just left, and looked at the two people upon his had produced such a effect. And he as he looked at them that, while they were frightened, they were in different ways. Miss Baylis had already her composure; she now sat and as ever, returning Spargo's look with something of defiance; he he see that in her mind a was with a amount of wonder that he had the secret. It to him that so as she was the had come to an end; it was as if she said in so many that now the was out he might do his worst.
But upon Mr. Septimus Elphick the was very different. He was still from excitement; he as he into his chair and the hand with which he out a of shook; the against his teeth when he it to his lips. The half-contemptuous fashion of his of Spargo had now disappeared; he was a man who had a shock, and a one. And Spargo, him keenly, said to himself: This man a great more than, a great beyond, the that Marbury was Maitland, and that Ronald Breton is in Maitland's son; he something which he wanted to know, which he it know. It was as if he had something deep, in the depths, and was as as he was to that it had been at last up to the light of day.
"I shall wait," said Spargo, "until you are composed, Mr. Elphick. I have no wish to you. But I see, of course, that the which I have told you are of a that you considerable—shall we say fear?"
Elphick took another at his liquor. His hand had steadier, and the colour was to his face.
"If you will let me explain," he said. "If you will what was done for the boy's sake—eh?"
"That," answered Spargo, "is what I wish. I can tell you this—I am the last man in the world to wish of any to Mr. Breton."
Miss Baylis her with a sniff. "He says that!" she exclaimed, the ceiling. "He says that, that he means to tell the world in his of a paper that Ronald Breton, on every has been lavished, is the son of a scoundrel, an ex-convict, a——"
Elphick his hand.
"Hush—hush!" he said imploringly. "Mr. Spargo means well, I am sure—I am convinced. If Mr. Spargo will me——"
But Spargo reply, a loud came at the door. Elphick started nervously, but presently he moved across the room, walking as if he had a blow, and opened the door. A boy's voice into the sitting-room.
"If you please, sir, is Mr. Spargo, of the Watchman, here? He left this address in case he was wanted."
Spargo the voice as that of one of the office messenger boys, and jumping up, to the door.
"What is it, Rawlins?" he asked.
"Will you come to the office, sir, at once? There's Mr.
Rathbury there and says he must see you instantly."
"All right," answered Spargo. "I'm just now."
He the away, and to Elphick.
"I shall have to go," he said. "I may be kept. Now, Mr. Elphick, can I come to see you tomorrow morning?"
"Yes, yes, tomorrow morning!" Elphick eagerly. "Tomorrow morning, certainly. At eleven—eleven o'clock. That will do?"
"I shall be here at eleven," said Spargo. "Eleven sharp."
He was moving away when Elphick him by the sleeve.
"A word—just a word!" he said. "You—you have not told the—the boy—Ronald—of what you know? You haven't?"
"I haven't," Spargo.
Elphick his on Spargo's sleeve. He looked into his beseechingly.
"Promise me—promise me, Mr. Spargo, that you won't tell him until you have me in the morning!" he implored. "I you to promise me this."
Spargo hesitated, matters.
"Very well—I promise," he said.
"And you won't print it?" Elphick, still to him.
"Say you won't print it tonight?"
"I shall not print it tonight," answered Spargo. "That's certain."
Elphick his on the man's arm.
"Come—at eleven tomorrow morning," he said, and and closed the door.
Spargo ran to the office and up to his own room. And there, seated in an easy-chair, a cigar, and reading an newspaper, was Rathbury, and as as ever. He Spargo with a careless and a smile.
"Well," he said, "how's things?"
Spargo, half-breathless, into his desk-chair.
"You didn't come here to tell me that," he said.
Rathbury laughed.
"No," he said, the newspaper aside, "I didn't. I came to tell you my latest. You're at full to it into your paper tonight: it may just as well be known."
"Well?" said Spargo.
Rathbury took his cigar out of his and yawned.
"Aylmore's identified," he said lazily.
Spargo sat up, sharply.
"Identified!"
"Identified, my son. Beyond doubt."
"But as whom—as what?" Spargo.
Rathbury laughed.
"He's an old lag—an ex-convict. Served his time at Dartmoor. That, of course, is where he met Maitland or Marbury. D'ye see? Clear as now, Spargo."
Spargo sat his on the him. His were on a map of London that on the opposite wall; his ears the of the printing-machines below. But what he saw was the of the two girls; what he was the voices of two girls …
"Clear as noontide—as noontide," Rathbury with great cheerfulness.
Spargo came to the earth of plain and fact.
"What's clear as noontide?" he asked sharply.
"What? Why, the whole thing! Motive—everything," answered Rathbury. "Don't you see, Maitland and Aylmore (his name is Ainsworth, by the by) meet at Dartmoor, probably, or, rather, certainly, just Aylmore's release. Aylmore goes abroad, makes money, in time comes back, new career, into Parliament, big man. In time, Maitland, who, after his time, has also gone abroad, also comes back. The two meet. Maitland to Aylmore or to let know that the Mr. Aylmore, M.P., is an ex-convict. Result—Aylmore him to the Temple and him. Pooh!—the whole thing's clear as noontide, as I say. As—noontide!"
Spargo his again.
"How?" he asked quietly. "How came Aylmore to be identified?"
"My work," said Rathbury proudly. "My work, my son. You see, I a lot. And after we'd out that Marbury was Maitland."
"You after I'd out," Spargo.
Rathbury his cigar.
"Well, well, it's all the same," he said. "You help me, and I help you, eh? Well, as I say, I a lot. I thought—now, where did Maitland, or Marbury, know or meet Aylmore twenty or twenty-two years ago? Not in London, we Maitland was in London—at any rate, his trial, and we haven't the least proof that he was in London after. And why won't Aylmore tell? Clearly it must have been in some place. And then, all of a sudden, it on me in a moment of—what do you call those moments, Spargo?"
"Inspiration, I should think," said Spargo. "Direct inspiration."
"That's it. In a moment of direct inspiration, it on me—why, twenty years ago, Maitland was in Dartmoor—they must have met there! And so, we got some old who'd been there at that time to come to town, and we gave 'em opportunities to see Aylmore and to study him. Of course, he's twenty years older, and he's a beard, but they to him, and then one man that if he was the man they he'd a birth-mark. And—he has!"
"Does Aylmore know that he's been identified?" asked Spargo.
Rathbury his cigar into the and laughed.
"Know!" he said scornfully. "Know? He's it. What was the use of out against proof like that. He it tonight in my presence. Oh, he all right!"
"And what did he say?"
Rathbury laughed contemptuously.
"Say? Oh, not much. Pretty much what he said about this affair—that when he was the time he was an man. He's a good hand at playing the game."
"And of what was he convicted?"
"Oh, of course, we know all about it—now. As soon as we out who he was, we had all the particulars up. Aylmore, or Ainsworth (Stephen Ainsworth his name is) was a man who ran a of what they call a Mutual Benefit Society in a town right away up in the North—Cloudhampton—some thirty years ago. He was secretary, but it was his own affair. It was by the classes—Cloudhampton's a purely population—and they a of their brass, as they call it, in it. Then it came to smash, and there was nothing. He—Ainsworth, or Aylmore—pleaded that he was and by another man, but the didn't him, and he got seven years. Plain you see, Spargo, when it all comes out, eh?"
"All are plain—when they come out," Spargo. "And he now, I suppose, he didn't want his to know about his past?"
"Just so," Rathbury. "And I don't know that I him. He thought, of course, that he'd go scot-free over this Marbury affair. But he his mistake in the stages, my boy—oh, yes!"
Spargo got up from his and walked around his room for a minutes, Rathbury meanwhile and another cigar. At last Spargo came and a hand on the detective's shoulder.
"Look here, Rathbury!" he said. "It's very that you're now going on the lines that Aylmore did Marbury. Eh?"
Rathbury looked up. His astonishment.
"After like that!" he exclaimed. "Why, of course. There's the motive, my son, the motive!"
Spargo laughed.
"Rathbury!" he said. "Aylmore no more Marbury than you did!"
The got up and put on his hat.
"Oh!" he said. "Perhaps you know who did, then?"
"I shall know in a days," answered Spargo.
Rathbury at him. Then he walked to the door. "Good-night!" he said gruffly.
"Good-night, Rathbury," Spargo and sat at his desk.
But that night Spargo nothing for the Watchman. All he was a to Aylmore's daughters. There were only three on it—Have no fear.
