“ ‘Sure?’ the other asked.
“ ‘Has a child, anyway, if not the child, for though I couldn’t hear much distinctly, I distinctly heard a child say, Now that I am seven years of age—’
“ ‘Let’s pounce upon him sharp!’ Upon which the two men, running up, pressed Aubrey’s electric bell.
“Aubrey did not answer it at once, and Barker, his ear at the keyhole, could clearly hear a scurry and whispering within; fully two minutes passed, and then Aubrey appeared.
“ ‘Your name, I think, is Mr. Aubrey Smith?’ Barker asked.
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘We may mention that we are police officers. Are you living alone in this flat, may I ask?’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘You haven’t a child of seven now with you, for example?’
“ ‘No, I’m not married.’
“ ‘There are more ways of having a child of seven than by being married. We should like to look through the flat.’
“ ‘My good sir, what is it all about? I am engaged...’
“ ‘Listen, sir.’ Barker said, ‘we have with us no warrant to force a search; but, take my tip, it will be better for you to consent, whether you are innocent or guilty.’
“ ‘Of what?’
“ ‘You are believed to have in your custody the child Ada Price, abducted from the village of Clanning, Gloucestershire, on the 3rd instant. You were seen talking to the child on a road—’
“ ‘I!’ Aubrey cried, with a breath of laughter.
“ ‘Look here, quick, is it yes or no?’
“ ‘Well, if you insist, you can search, since that will comfort you,’ Aubrey now said; ‘but do get it over, officers.’
“The men, now coming in, went first into the newly-furnished drawing-room, and were looking round it when Aubrey did what certainly appeared a suspicious thing — ran down the hall passage, and turned the door key of his new studio. The officers, peeping, of course saw what he did; and when, after looking through the other rooms, they came near to the studio door, Aubrey made a halt.
“ ‘Not in there,’ he whispered to them with shy eyes.
“ ‘How is that?’ Barker wished to know.
“ ‘Oh, I say, don’t raise your voice,’ he whispered, blushing; ‘there s someone in there.’
“ ‘We are well aware of that: let’s have a look at her’ — now Barker pounded upon the door.
“ ‘My good sir, Will you be so good as to go to the devil,’ Aubrey now said in an agonized low tone. ‘Come, go out of my flat.’
“The detective scribbled something in his notebook, and without any other word the two turned, went away.
“They did not, however, go far — one of them, at least — for when Aubrey went out afterwards to go down to Hylda’s, he saw that he was watched, and understood that he would soon hear from them anew.
“Down there at Clapham the dining-room table was aglitter with wedding gifts, for many were the girl friends of Hylda, many were coming to the wedding, and bright that day were Hylda’s eyes to the moment when she opened the door to Aubrey; but instantly now, though he put on his bravest looks, her face clouded.
“ ‘All not well?’ she asked him presently, with a look.
“He could not utterly kill his bride’s brightness, and replied: ‘Why not?’
“The next morning, his wedding day, he discovered that all his wealth was seventeen-and-sixpence; and having with the sixpence sent a ‘good morning’ telegram to Hylda, at a loss now how to spend the time till one o’clock, he took his gun and went down to Grange House, a friend’s place in Surrey, where there was some shooting, thinking that he would at least shoot his bride’s dinner and borrow a five-pound note. He came back rather in a haste, a little late, with a hare and a rabbit, but without the five-pound note, since his friend was away from home, and three at a time he stormed up the flights of stairs to dress: for already it was a quarter to one. On the other hand, the church was hardly three hundred yards away up the street, so that he had no journey to make.
“At three minutes to one Hylda’s bridesmaids were there, ready, waiting in the church porch for her; a knot of people, and a policeman, stood in the street to see; inside, the organist, a personal friend of Hylda’s, was amusing his fingers with the tune of O Perfect Love; the clergyman stood ready. As the church clock struck one, a carriage bearing the bride, all in heliotrope voile with white orchids, bearing also the bride’s father, drove round a corner; and one minute afterwards Aubrey, a late and troubled bridegroom, flew down his stairs and out upon the pavement.
“It was just then that at a window above him a girl-child, looking out, cried gleefully aloud in French to some person behind her: ‘O, monsieur! look! a wedding!’ and upon this, the person popped his head out, to look.
Hylda, at the moment, was being handed out of her carriage, but her eyes were on Aubrey coming: and she stood hesitant, one foot on the carriage step, in wonderment at what she saw.
“For, as the child cried ‘O, monsieur, look!’ Hylda saw that Aubrey heard and glanced up, and as the man above popped out his head, she saw that Aubrey saw him, although the man instantly pulled himself back; at which Aubrey seemed to become possessed, for, immediately stopping in his career toward the church, he darted back into the house.
“She was so amazed that there, with her slipper on the carriage step, she remained, staring at the building into which Aubrey had vanished; the eyes of everyone, in fact, had turned from the bride, everyone awaiting in silence what the next instant would bring with it; till in about two minutes, or less, the sound of a gun-shot rang out of the house; from the window at which the child had cried out a cloud of smoke was seen to drift; and now the policeman in the crowd began running...
“He had not, however, run halfway to the house, when out of it darted a dark-haired child, howling, washed in blood, staring, staggering; ten yards from the building she dropped to the ground and lay silent; and as the policeman approached her, out of the door dashed two men, one in a dressing-gown, the other Aubrey, his coat bellying behind him — pelting, both of them, with white, wild faces, the man flying, Aubrey chasing — away from the church; and without delay, leaving the wounded girl on the ground, the policeman, too, blowing his whistle, was pursuing the two, and a fourth man, who had been watching the place on Detective-Sergeant Barker’s behalf, joined in.
“The two, however, in their agony of eagerness, easily distanced the two policemen.
At the same moment, Hylda felt her senses almost fail her, and in a sort of vision saw her hither prostrate, half on the carriage step, halt on the street, breathing hard in a rather queer way...
“It was nearly two weeks after that distracted wedding day of hers, when, one morning, Hylda Hood presented herself before Laura in Brook Street.
“ ‘I do hope I don’t come too early—’ Hylda began.
“ ‘Not even a little. Sit down. I am glad — I am very glad — that you have come. Do you know, I know you quite well — for years, it seems — I could have drawn your face just from Aubrey’s chatter of you, and here you are exactly as I conceived you. Only — in black. Why in black?’
“Hylda, looking downwards, after a moment said: ‘My father was buried yesterday, Miss O’Donague.’
“ ‘Oh! poor—’ Laura breathed, shrinking, then in an impulse ran and knelt and kissed Hylda’s hands.
“ ‘He had not been strong for some time,’ Hylda remarked, ‘and what has happened was all too much for him. I should have come to you before, but have been ill myself; now I feel called upon to make some sort of effort to confront all this mystery, though I’m afraid—’