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They separated, Edith taking the car. As soon as she was alone Mrs.
Dinneford quickened her steps, like a person who had been held back from some engagement. A walk of ten minutes brought her to one of the princ.i.p.al hotels of the city. Pa.s.sing in, she went up to a reception-parlor, where she was met by a man who rose from a seat near the windows and advanced to the middle of the room. He was of low stature, with quick, rather nervous movements, had dark, restless eyes, and wore a heavy black moustache that was liberally sprinkled with gray. The lower part of his face was shaved clean. He showed some embarra.s.sment as he came forward to meet Mrs. Dinneford.
"Mr. Feeling," she said, coldly.
The man bowed with a mixture of obsequiousness and familiarity, and tried to look steadily into Mrs. Dinneford's face, but was not able to do so. There was a steadiness and power in her eyes that his could not bear.
"What do you want with me, sir?" she demanded, a little sharply.
"Take a chair, and I will tell you," replied Freeling, and he turned, moving toward a corner of the room, she following. They sat down, taking chairs near each other.
"There's trouble brewing," said the man, his face growing dark and anxious.
"What kind of trouble?"
"I had a letter from George Granger yesterday."
"What!" The color went out of the lady's face.
"A letter from George Granger. He wished to see me."
"Did you go?"
"Yes."
"What did he want?"
Freeling took a deep breath, and sighed. His manner was troubled.
"What did he want?" Mrs. Dinneford repeated the question.
"He's as sane as you or I," said Freeling.
"Is he? Oh, very well! Then let him go to the State's prison." Mrs.
Dinneford said this with some bravado in her manner. But the color did not come back to her face.
"He has no idea of that," was replied.
"What then?" The lady leaned toward Freeling. Her hands moved nervously.
"He means to have the case in court again, but on a new issue."
"He does!"
"Yes; says that he's innocent, and that you and I know it--that he's the victim of a conspiracy, and that we are the conspirators!"
"Talk!--amounts to nothing," returned Mrs. Dinneford, with a faint little laugh.
"I don't know about that. It's ugly talk, and especially so, seeing that it's true."
"No one will give credence to the ravings of an insane criminal."
"People are quick to credit an evil report. They will pity and believe him, now that the worst is reached. A reaction in public feeling has already taken place. He has one or two friends left who do not hesitate to affirm that there has been foul play. One of these has been tampering with a clerk of mine, and I came upon them with their heads together on the street a few days ago, and had my suspicions aroused by their startled look when they saw me."
"'What did that man want with you?' I inquired, when the clerk came in.
"He hesitated a moment, and then replied, 'He was asking me something about Mr. Granger.'
"'What about him?' I queried. 'He asked me if I knew anything in regard to the forgery,' he returned.
"I pressed him with questions, and found that suspicion was on the right track. This friend of Granger's asked particularly about your visits to the store, and whether he had ever noticed anything peculiar in our intercourse--anything that showed a familiarity beyond what would naturally arise between a customer and salesman."
"There's nothing in that," said Mrs. Dinneford. "If you and I keep our own counsel, we are safe. The testimony of a condemned criminal goes for nothing. People may surmise and talk as much as they please, but no one knows anything about those notes but you and I and George."
"A pardon from the governor may put a new aspect on the case."
"A pardon!" There was a tremor of alarm in Mrs. Dinneford's voice.
"Yes; that, no doubt, will be the first move."
"The first move! Why, Mr. Freeling, you don't think anything like this is in contemplation?"
"I'm afraid so. George, as I have said, is no more crazy than you or I.
But he cannot come out of the asylum, as the case now stands, without going to the penitentiary. So the first move of his friends will be to get a pardon. Then he is our equal in the eyes of the law. It would be an ugly thing for you and me to be sued for a conspiracy to ruin this young man, and have the charge of forgery added to the count."
Mrs. Dinneford gave a low cry, and s.h.i.+vered.
"But it may come to that."
"Impossible!"
"The prudent man foreseeth the evil and hideth himself, but the simple pa.s.s on and are punished," said Freeling. "It is for this that I have sent for you. It's an ugly business, and I was a weak fool ever to have engaged in it."
"You were a free agent."
"I was a weak fool."
"As you please," returned Mrs. Dinneford, coldly, and drawing herself away from him.
It was some moments before either of them spoke again. Then Freeling said,
"I was awake all night, thinking over this matter, and it looks uglier the more I think of it. It isn't likely that enough evidence could be found to convict either of us, but to be tried on such an accusation would be horrible."
"Horrible! horrible!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Dinneford. "What is to be done?"
She gave signs of weakness and terror. Freeling observed her closely, then felt his way onward.
"We are in great peril," he said. "There is no knowing what turn affairs will take. I only wish I were a thousand miles from here. It would be safer for us both." Then, after a pause, he added, "If I were foot-free, I would be off to-morrow."
He watched Mrs. Dinneford closely, and saw a change creep over her face.