The Wharf by the Docks | Page 3

time, and
things went on straight enough for eight or nine years, by which time
he had done very well--made a lot of money by speculation--and was
thinking of retiring from business altogether. Then, perhaps it was the
extra pressure of his increased business, but, at any rate, he broke out
again, tried to murder his wife that time, and did, in fact, injure her so
much that she died shortly afterward. Of course, he had to be shut up
again; and a man named Edward Jacobs, a shrewd Jew, who was his
confidential clerk, carried on the business in his absence. Now, both
Horne and his wife had had the fullest confidence in this Jacobs, but he
turned out all wrong. As soon as he learned, at the end of about twelve
months, that Horne was coming out again, he decamped with
everything he could lay his hands on; and from the position of affairs
you may guess that he made a very good haul. Well, poor Horne found
himself in a maze of difficulties; in fact, his clerk's fraud ruined him.
Everything that could be sold or mortgaged had to go to the settlement,
and when his affairs had been finally put straight, there was only a little
bit left, that had been so settled upon his wife that no one could touch it.
He made a good fight of it for a little while, with the help of a few old
friends, but, in the end, he broke down again for the third time. But he
escaped out of the asylum and went abroad, without seeing his friends
or his child, and a few months afterward the announcement of his death
in an American asylum was sent by a correspondent out there. Happily

there were no difficulties about securing the mother's money for the son,
and it was enough to educate the boy and to give him a start; but, of
course, he had to begin the world as a poor man instead of a rich one.
Perhaps that was all the better for him--or so I thought until lately."
"And what are these signs of a morbid tendency that you spoke of?"
asked the doctor.
"Well, in the first place, after being almost extravagant in his devotion
to my daughter, Doreen, he now neglects her outrageously--comes
down very seldom, writes short letters or none. Now, my daughter is
not the sort of girl that a sane man would neglect," added Doctor
Wedmore, proudly.
"Certainly not," assented the doctor, inwardly thinking that it was much
less surprising than it would have been in the case of one of his own
girls.
"In the second place, he is always harping upon the subject of Jacobs
and his peculations--an old subject, which he might well let rest. And,
in the third place, he has become moody, morose and absent-minded;
and my son, Max, who often visits him at his chambers in Lincoln's Inn,
has noticed the change even more than I, who have fewer opportunities
of seeing him."
The doctor was puffing stolidly at his pipe and looking at the fire.
"It is very difficult to form an opinion upon report only," said he.
"Frankly, I can see nothing in what you have told me about the young
man which could not be explained in other and likelier ways. He may
have got entangled, for instance, with some woman in London."
Mr. Wedmore took fire at this suggestion.
"In that case, the sooner Doreen forgets all about him the better."
"Mind, I'm only suggesting!" put in the doctor, hastily. "There may be a
dozen more reasons--"

"I shall not wait to find them out," said Mr. Wedmore, decisively. "He
and Max are coming down together this evening. My wife would have
them to help in organizing some affair they're getting up for Christmas.
I'll send him to the right-about without any more nonsense."
"But surely that is hardly--"
"Hardly what?" snapped out Mr. Wedmore, as he poked the fire
viciously.
"Well, hardly fair to either of the young people. Put a few questions to
him yourself, or better still, let your wife do it. It may be only a storm
in a teacup, after all. Remember, he is the son of your old friend. And
you wouldn't like to have it on your conscience that you had treated
him harshly."
The doctor's advice was sane and sound enough, but Mr. Wedmore was
not in the mood to listen to it. That notion of an entanglement with
another woman rankled in his proud mind, and made him still less
inclined to be patient and forbearing.
"I shall give Doreen warning of what I am going to do at once," said he,
"before Horne turns up."
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. He was