Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of AlternativesMoore, Frank Frankfort
General
Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of Alternatives
Moore, Frank Frankfort
Fiction
“That is so much, at any rate,” said Jack; “and now if you can give
us any clue as to how it would be possible to be brought in touch with
Horace Lyman, we will be evermore indebted to you.”
“The woman is his sister--so much I gathered,” said the Governor. “And I
learned that he was waiting for Blaydon at the prison gate when Blaydon
was released. That is all I know. But the sister’s address is, as I
mentioned just now, London, in Canada--at least, that was her address
when she was in communication with Blaydon. Her letters were not
illiterate, though of course they were not carefully written. They
showed what critics would possibly call an ill-balanced mind--extremes
of blandishments on one page, and threats of the wildest nature on the
next. I can give you copies if you would care to see them.”
Priscilla shook her head. She could not see herself sitting down to read
the confidential letters of the poor woman.
“I am quite willing to accept your judgment on them, Major Crosbie,” she
said.
“I think that you are right to do so,” said he. “If you were to, read
them they would certainly convey more to you, who have fortunately had
no experience of this form of correspondence, than would be good for
your future peace of mind. You would say at once when you saw the
address ‘My dearest husband,’ and the reiteration of the same word,
‘husband’ with various vehement adjectives--you would undoubtedly
feel confident that the pair were married, but you must think of that
possibility with great suspicion.”
“You have suggested it, at any rate, and for that you have our heartiest
thanks,” said Jack. “Why, only to be able to put that name ‘Lucy Lyman’
on Sir Edward’s brief means an enormous gain to us.”
“But you will, of course, send someone out to Canada to make the thing
sure,” said Crosbie. “You may be able to find the woman herself, and to
bring her to England to confront the man. Whether she’s his wife or not,
that will be a help to your case.”
“I should rather think that it will be a help,” cried Jack. “If it can
be shown that the man went straight from this place to the side of that
woman in Canada, I don’t see how any judge could refuse us a verdict. I
shall start for Canada to-morrow.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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