As he grew in years and developed in strength and good looks, Lady Farrington’s affectionate admiration knew no bounds. She lavished caresses on him without ceasing, declaring that he was daily becoming more and more fitted for the station which would some day be his.
‘Yes, yes, the end cannot be far off now,’ she said one day as she sat in the headmaster’s drawing-room, holding Herbert’s hand in hers and patting it from time to time in the fulness of her contentment. ‘Who shall gainsay your claim when they see you thus, my Herbert’s living image? my son! My son, my lost unhappy son!’ and in a moment she was in a paroxysm of tears.
Herbert was quite accustomed to her now. At first he had been dismayed by her sudden outbursts. The rapid transition from joy to sorrow, from smiles to hysterical tears, were sufficient to frighten him, and when to these were added her wild talk, her bitter self-reproaches, her mysterious hints of his coming greatness, he scarcely knew what to do or say. But by degrees he became familiar with her eccentricities, and he felt that although she might be queer, she was certainly uncommonly kind.
‘I cannot control myself when I think of the miserable past. But, please God, in you I shall make some atonement for my sins, and soon, soon—for the time draws nigh. You are equal, Herbert, I trust, to a great and arduous trial?’
He was now nearly seventeen, tall and well-built for his age; and as he shook his light curls and looked steadily at her with his clear, honest eyes, he seemed the incarnation of youth and hope.
‘I am game for anything, Lady Farrington, only try me. I’d face the whole world if you asked me.’
‘My own brave boy! The struggle may be sharp, but with such a spirit the victory is certain to be ours.’
‘When may I know what it is that I have to do?’
‘The time draws nigh. It depends only on you and your fitness to play your part. You have not neglected your opportunities I know. Dr. Jiggs gives you a high character. You have profited by his studies, you have learnt to ride and shoot, and when you come to your own you will comport yourself as an English gentleman should.’
‘I am a gentleman born, then?’
‘Of the best,’ she replied proudly. ‘You are—why conceal it longer? Here you have for reasons been still known as Herbert Larkins, my ward, but you are really my grandson, the only child of Herbert, my second boy. You are Sir Herbert Farrington, the rightful heir of the family honours of an old name and wide estates.’
‘Is this certain, quite certain?’
‘Absolutely—at least to me. I have never doubted from the first. My instinct assured me I was right when I recognised you in Triggertown. But as the world needs more material proof I have sought them out, and hold them now all but one. This also I should have possessed had not one person failed me.’
‘Who was that?’
‘Mrs. Larkins. She alone can tell us what we want to know, and she has most unaccountably hesitated or refused to speak. This is why I have broken with her—why I have forbidden them to come and see you again.’
These honest people had paid several visits to Herbert at school, visits he had received with delight. They had ceased suddenly, and he had wondered greatly thereat.
‘But if my mother—if Mrs. Larkins—’
‘Mrs. Larkins is not your mother, Herbert, of that you may rest assured.’
‘She was as good as one to me always, I know that. But if she is the only person who can help us in this matter, was it prudent to break with her altogether?’ Herbert asked very pertinently.
‘I was annoyed, angry, and they were proud—I will seek them out again. They are necessary to us. Mrs. Larkins shall speak, and we will proceed at once to establish your claim. My patience is exhausted and Rupert’s cup is full.’
This conversation occurred at a time mentioned in a previous chapter when her relations with Sir Rupert had become more and more constrained. War had long been imminent between them, but a rupture had been precipitated by the overbearing harshness of his ways. She had spoken, therefore, a little rashly and prematurely perhaps, and in doing so had shown her hand. She had practically thrown down the glove, daring him to do his worst. He accepted the challenge, and acted with a promptitude and determination for which the poor cracked-brained old lady was certainly no match.
His first step was to put a watch upon Lady Farrington’s movements. Mr. Oozenam, the well-known private detective, was employed, who set about his task with his usual skill and despatch. Within a week or two he came with his first report.
‘Lady Farrington goes once every month, often twice, to Deadham School, in Essex. She has done so these five years past and more.’
‘Of course. The cub, her protégé, is there. Well?’
‘A ward of her ladyship’s, Herbert Larkins, is at school there. He is now seventeen years of age, is tall and well grown, has fair curly hair and greyish blue eyes. Her ladyship is said to take an immense interest in him. Their interviews are long. She must be very liberal to him; the lad is always well provided with money which he spends freely. He is a fair scholar, has been taught especially to ride and shoot, has learnt foreign languages and all extras.’
‘That is enough, Mr. Oozenam. You have handsomely earned your fee.’
‘It has gone very far,’ Sir Rupert said to himself as soon as he was alone. ‘What an idiot I have been not to have observed her more closely! But let us hope it is not too late even now.’
And then, after a long cogitation, he called for his carriage, and driving first into the neighbouring country town, where he made one or two calls, he bade the coachman next proceed to Farrington Court.
He asked for Lady Farrington, and was in due course ushered into her private boudoir.
‘The time has come, Lady Farrington, as you were good enough to say some time back—the time for plain speaking. I mean to put an end to your tomfooleries once for all. So long as they merely made you appear ridiculous I could have borne with you, although you scandalized our name. But I cannot permit you to plot against me and mine without protest and something more.’
‘Plot?’ she asked, in a voice which anger and agitation combined to make nearly inarticulate.
‘I have discovered all. You have kept your secret well, but I have found it out. This base-born pretender—’
‘He is my own grandson. I have the proofs.’
‘They will not bear the test of legal scrutiny, you know that. On the contrary, I can show that the whole affair is a conspiracy from beginning to end. That this Larkins is an adventurer—’
‘You will not harm him, surely? It is I, only I, who am to blame.’
‘I shall hand him over to the police, prosecute him, and make him pay dearly for his attempt to defraud.’
‘You would not dare,’ she cried aghast. Surprise and indignation combined to confuse her mind, and she did not pause to consider that he had no grounds of procedure; that his threats were vain, and could never be put into execution.
‘I shall not spare him nor you.’
‘Then you shall take the consequences. I will proclaim you to be the villain that you are; will tear you from your present exalted station, and will send you back to your former poverty and rags. You shall be dispossessed. You shall disgorge the