Telling Karl Ludwig that he has some business with these people and will join him soon, Oswald steps out into the street. To the apparently self-composed greetings of Sir Donald and Esther, Oswald quietly responds. Asking them their number, it is arranged that he shall call that evening. With habitual courtesy they separate, Sir Donald and Esther riding up the street, and Oswald joining Karl Ludwig at the next street-crossing.

Each actor perceived the embarra.s.sment of the situation, and prevented any public display.

Sir Donald and Esther have no further interest in Calcutta drives. They soon return to their hotel, there to await the appearance of Oswald Langdon.

Esther is all suppressed excitement, and Sir Donald tries to divert her by little fatherly expedients.

Now that there is no longer possibility of concealment, Oswald feels a sense of relief, and is eager for the meeting. To these friends he will tell all, and of them learn the whole news about the mysteries of the past.

Karl Ludwig jollies Oswald about those friends who seemed so surprised to see him.

"Der voman vas luffly, und dot chentlemans vas bedder looging den mosd mens."

At appointed time Oswald enters the hotel and sends up his card. An invitation to call at the Randolph rooms promptly follows. Conducted there, he is admitted.

The gracious, kindly greetings do much to relieve his embarra.s.sment, but Oswald knows that a frank statement should be made, as preliminary to any further courtesies. On his part have been many strange acts. This is a fateful emergency, but he will meet it manfully and without dissimulation or deceit.

His opening is characteristic.

"My conduct has been inconsistent and contradictory, unsatisfactory to myself, and, I have often suspected, cowardly, yet there was no consciousness at any time of intentionally having wronged any human being."

Esther's quick sympathies prompt the reply:

"Father and I both believe you innocent, Mr. Langdon!"

This burst of compa.s.sionate confidence pleases yet slightly disconcerts Oswald.

Giving his daughter a look of mildest remonstrance, Sir Donald mutely invites Oswald to continue.

Looking into the loyally expressive eyes of Esther, Oswald says:

"Often I have longed for a chance to explain to you both my strange conduct, but many things prevented. Every succeeding act in the whole miserable series made telling harder. I saw Miss Randolph yesterday, but pretended not to recognize her, fearing the result of being identified."

"But you ought not to have doubted us, Mr. Langdon!"

Not knowing just how to explain this unwarranted, agnostic caprice, Oswald discreetly proceeds with his general line of defense.

"After meeting Miss Randolph yesterday, and through fear of being known, so rudely pa.s.sing her by, I felt an impulse to go back, apologize, and tell the whole story, but was restrained by motives which were honest, but difficult to understand. Hard as it was to know that friends were within easy reach who could explain much I longed to hear, and possibly aid me to clear a horrible mystery, yet I determined to continue as before, until the Langdon name bears no stain."

"But, Mr. Langdon, your family name is stainless!"

Sympathizing with this earnest youth trying so hard to explain apparent misconduct, yet hedging against unfavorable impressions until all be told, nervously amplifying preliminaries through evident dread of more startling revelations, Sir Donald refrained from comment.

After other preambles, seconded by Esther's eager sympathy and by Sir Donald's grave, kindly reserve, Oswald tells all.

There was no attempt to palliate a single inconsistency or to deny one dubious act. Antic.i.p.ating surprise at numerous apparently weak performances, he neither minimized nor evaded, urging, however:

"My flight was responsible for all subsequent acts. My own judgment and conscience did not always approve these actions, neither did they condemn them. These eccentric courses were unhappy, immature shifts, concerning which I was never at ease. You have heard all, and I hope will not unduly censure."

With flushed cheeks, Esther inquiringly looked at her father, who during the whole recital had not spoken.

Deliberately rising, Sir Donald took Oswald's hand, and looking into those unflinching eyes, said:

"Mr. Langdon, I believe you fully and censure nothing. Possibly at times you may have acted indiscreetly, but of this I have doubts."

Here Esther, with happy, beaming face, extended her hand, and Oswald listened to congratulations, mutely acknowledging his great sense of happiness.

Placed in proper light before these friends, he soon asks about father and mother.

Neither Sir Donald nor Esther had heard anything of Oswald's parents.

Oswald again experiences some unaccountable feeling. It is now growing late, and he rises to go. Promising to call upon the following evening, the young man pa.s.ses out into the moonlight and soon reaches his hotel.

Oswald is desirous to hear more of the Thames tragedy. At his next call this matter is discussed quite fully.

The failure of Oswald and Alice to return from night row on the Thames; search for them next day; finding of his hat and her handkerchief; comments of London press; persecutions of detectives; persistent impertinence of reporters; trip of Sir Donald and Esther to Paris; sailing of father and daughter for Calcutta; attempts to locate Mrs.

Dodge; being shadowed by strangely disguised man, with all pertaining incidents; visits to poor family, and clew thereby obtained; call upon Mrs. Dodge, her statement, and matters culminating in arrest of the three conspirators; queer, unwarranted proceedings of Calcutta officials in detention without warrant, charge, or arraignment of three men, resulting in discharge of the Laniers and continued imprisonment of William Dodge--all were graphically narrated by Sir Donald.

Oswald asks many questions as to matters that have puzzled his mind while pondering over this tangled web. Some of these are cleared, but many remain unanswered.

What can be the meaning of these arrests? Why were the Laniers discharged and William Dodge detained? Could it be possible that the Laniers procured the arrests, their own being only a blind? Was there collusion between officials and the Laniers? How account for their strange acquiescence in this lawless imprisonment? Had all or any of the three villains confessed? Were the submission of the Laniers to such long, unwarranted custody and their final discharge in accord with an arrangement whereby they had charged William Dodge with murder? Upon what theory did William Dodge submit to continued detention without arraignment?

These and similar questions were discussed by Sir Donald and Oswald, but no satisfactory answers could be given.

Oswald said to Sir Donald: "Perhaps your detective employes effected the arrests upon insufficient evidence, and seeing that there was no possibility of convicting the Laniers, had them released. This possibly might account for their part in the farce, but does not throw any light on the Dodge episode."

Sir Donald scouted such theory, replying: "I have unbounded faith in the London bureau, and am fully a.s.sured that these arrests were neither planned nor acquiesced in by that office."

After explanations of the reasons for this belief, Oswald felt sure Sir Donald was right.

Esther is now happy. This fascinating suitor of former years, whom she had mourned as dead, is alive and more interesting than ever. His sorrowful experiences and open avowal of all strange conduct encircle that brow with a romantic halo. How Oswald Langdon has suffered! She is sure there is not one blamable act in his whole course of conduct. If Oswald should renew that proposal--well, her ideas have undergone a change. She will reconsider the whole matter, and--do what her--well--perhaps--yes, that is so!

All Oswald's former love for Esther Randolph, intensified by pensive memories and lonely wandering, now pulses anew. He sees in Esther's changed manners most encouraging incentives to his reviving hopes. He believes she now would accept a proposal and become his bride.

There has been a noticeable tendency in her talks toward former a.s.sociations, with delicately worded hints at changed views, resulting from more mature knowledge.

But there has been a change in Oswald Langdon. The alchemy worked capriciously, but the product has been trans.m.u.ted. That impetuous, masterful will is less persistent. There is a more refined, discriminating sense of subtle distinctions.

Oswald Langdon will not renew former suit. Not yet may he face the world an unsuspected man. The death of Alice Webster still remains a mystery.

Her murderer, escaping farcical arrest, is now at large. The agencies employed to unravel this triple conspiracy seem ineffective. He will not pose as suspected murderer of an innocent girl. Until this mystery is cleared, he will not think of marriage with Esther Randolph. This grand, pure-minded, cultured girl shall not blush as wife of a supposed villain whose hands seem crimson with human blood. He can live and wait and plan and suffer, if need be, to the end of life, a lone wanderer, but no woman shall blush for his reputation.

Oswald feels no sense of present concern for maternal solicitude, but wonders at such marked indifference.

While much pleased at knowledge that Oswald Langdon escaped the murderous a.s.sault by Paul Lanier, and fully believing in Oswald's absolute innocence of crime, Sir Donald is alive to the situation. There can be no possible doubt as to the mutual sentiments of Esther and Oswald. That now these would grow stronger is the inevitable logic of events.

Oswald's supposed death under such mysterious circ.u.mstances tends to intensify Esther's memories of the past. That all such tender recollections, augmented by romance of last few days and renewed a.s.sociations, would be an irresistible magnet between these two dissimilar, yet mutually attracting souls, Sir Donald cannot doubt.

Nor does his mature judgment recoil at the issue. All fatherly intuitions approve of such choice. Every physical, ethical, and domestic consideration favors this union. Under other circ.u.mstances, this discreetly indulgent father could tenderly yield his beloved child to such a suitor.