The parish church stood back from the street, protected by gates and railings, and surrounded by a space of open ground. Shaking off his father's hold, Bashwood the younger made straight for the vestry. The clerk, putting away the books, and the clerk's assistant, hanging up a surplice, were the only persons in the room when he entered it and asked leave to look at the marriage register for the day.
The clerk gravely opened the book, and stood aside from the desk on which it lay.
The day's register comprised three marriages solemnized that morning; and the first two signatures on the page were "Allan Armadale" and "Lydia Gwilt!"Even the spy--ignorant as he was of the truth, unsuspicious as he was of the terrible future consequences to which the act of that morning might lead--even the spy started, when his eye first fell on the page. It was done! Come what might of it, it was done now.
There, in black and white, was the registered evidence of the marriage, which was at once a truth in itself, and a lie in the conclusion to which it led! There--through the fatal similarity in the names--there, in Midwinter's own signature, was the proof to persuade everybody that, not Midwinter, but Allan, was the husband of Miss Gwilt!
Bashwood the younger closed the book, and returned it to the clerk. He descended the vestry steps, with his hands thrust doggedly into his pockets, and with a serious shock inflicted on his professional self-esteem.
The beadle met him under the church wall. He considered for a moment whether it was worth while to spend a shilling in questioning the man, and decided in the affirmative. If they could be traced and overtaken, there might be a chance of seeing the color of Mr. Armadale's money even yet.
"How long is it," he asked, "since the first couple married here this morning left the church?""About an hour," said the beadle.
"How did they go away?"
The beadle deferred answering that second question until he had first pocketed his fee.
"You won't trace them from here, sir," he said, when he had got his shilling. "They went away on foot.""And that is all you know about it?"
"That, sir, is all I know about it."
Left by himself, even the Detective of the Private Inquiry Office paused for a moment before he returned to his father at the gate.
He was roused from his hesitation by the sudden appearance, within the church inclosure, of the driver of the cab.
"I'm afraid the old gentleman is going to be taken ill, sir,"said the man.
Bashwood the younger frowned angrily, and walked back to the cab.
As he opened the door and looked in, his father leaned forward and confronted him, with lips that moved speechlessly, and with a white stillness over all the rest of his face.
