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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The New Tenant
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Release Date: February 4, 2009 [EBook #27998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NEW TENANT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D. Alexander, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                             THE NEW TENANT
+
+                        BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
+
+AUTHOR OF "THE YELLOW HOUSE," "TO WIN THE LOVE HE SOUGHT," "A DAUGHTER
+OF ASTREA," ETC.
+
+
+DONALD W. NEWTON
+156 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY
+C. H. DOSCHER & CO.
+
+THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+       I. FALCON'S NEST
+
+      II. THE MURDER NEAR THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+     III. MR. BERNARD BROWN
+
+      IV. AN EVIL END TO AN EVIL LIFE
+
+       V. THE INNER ROOM AT THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+      VI. A TERRIBLE ENEMY
+
+     VII. HELEN THURWELL'S SUSPICIONS
+
+    VIII. DID YOU KILL SIR GEOFFREY KYNASTON?
+
+      IX. MR. BROWN DINES AT THE COURT
+
+       X. THE TRAGEDY OF RACHEL KYNASTON
+
+      XI. LEVY & SON, PRIVATE AGENTS
+
+     XII. A JEWEL OF A SON
+
+    XIII. A STRANGE MEETING
+
+     XIV. HELEN THURWELL ASKS A DIRECT QUESTION
+
+      XV. A LITERARY CELEBRITY
+
+     XVI. A SNUB FOR A BARONET
+
+    XVII. BERNARD MADDISON AND HELEN THURWELL
+
+   XVIII. A CHEQUE FOR £1,000
+
+     XIX. AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY FOR BERNARD BROWN
+
+      XX. GOD! THAT I MAY DIE!
+
+     XXI. SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE HAS A CALLER
+
+    XXII. "GOD FORBID IT!"
+
+   XXIII. LOVERS
+
+    XXIV. A WOMAN'S LOVE
+
+     XXV. MR. LEVY, JUNIOR, GOES ON THE CONTINENT
+
+    XXVI. HELEN DECIDES TO GO HOME
+
+   XXVII. MR. THURWELL MAKES SOME INQUIRIES
+
+  XXVIII. SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE VISITS THE COURT
+
+    XXIX. THE SCENE CHANGES
+
+     XXX. BENJAMIN LEVY RUNS HIS QUARRY TO EARTH
+
+    XXXI. BENJAMIN LEVY WRITES HOME
+
+   XXXII. A STRANGE TRIO OF PASSENGERS
+
+  XXXIII. VISITORS FOR MR. BERNARD MADDISON
+
+   XXXIV. ARRESTED
+
+    XXXV. COMMITTED FOR TRIAL
+
+   XXXVI. MR. LEVY PROMISES TO DO HIS BEST
+
+  XXXVII. BERNARD A PRISONER
+
+ XXXVIII. "THERE IS MY HAND. DARE YOU TAKE IT?"
+
+   XXXIX. MR. BENJAMIN LEVY IS BUSY
+
+      XL. A STRANGE BIRTHDAY PARTY
+
+     XLI. INNOCENT
+
+    XLII. AT LAST
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW TENANT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+Thurwell Court, by Thurwell-on-the-Sea, lay bathed in the quiet
+freshness of an early morning. The dewdrops were still sparkling upon
+the terraced lawns like little globules of flashing silver, and the
+tumult of noisy songsters from the thick shrubberies alone broke the
+sweet silence. The peacocks strutting about the grey stone balcony and
+perched upon the worn balustrade were in deshabille, not being
+accustomed to display their splendors to an empty paradise, and the few
+fat blackbirds who were hopping about on the lawn did so in a desultory
+manner, as though they were only half awake and had turned out under
+protest. Stillness reigned everywhere, but it was the sweet hush of
+slowly awakening day rather than the drowsy, languorous quiet of
+exhausted afternoon. With one's eyes shut one could tell that the pulse
+of day was only just beginning to beat. The pure atmosphere was buoyant
+with the vigorous promise of morning, and gently laden with the mingled
+perfumes of slowly opening flowers. There was life in the breathless
+air.
+
+The sunlight was everywhere. In the distance it lay upon the dark
+hillside, played upon the deep yellow gorse and purple heather of the
+moorland, and, further away still, flashed upon a long silver streak of
+the German Ocean. In the old-fashioned gardens of the court it shone
+upon luscious peaches hanging on the time-mellowed red-brick walls; lit
+up the face and gleamed upon the hands of the stable clock, and warmed
+the ancient heart of the stooping, grey-haired old gardener's help who,
+with blinking eyes and hands tucked in his trousers pockets, was smoking
+a matutinal pipe, seated on the wheelbarrow outside the tool shed.
+
+Around the mansion itself it was very busy, casting a thousand sunbeams
+upon its long line of oriel windows, and many quaint shadows of its
+begabled roof upon the lawns and bright flower-beds below. On one of the
+terraces a breakfast-table was laid for two, and here its splendour was
+absolutely dazzling. It gleamed upon the sparkling silver, and the
+snow-white tablecloth; shone with a delicate softness upon the
+freshly-gathered fruit and brilliant flowers, and seemed to hover with a
+gentle burnished light upon the ruddy golden hair of a girl who sat
+there waiting, with her arm resting lightly upon the stone balustrade,
+and her eyes straying over the quaint well-kept gardens to the open
+moorland and dark patches of wooded country beyond.
+
+"Good morning, Helen! First, as usual."
+
+She turned round with a somewhat languid greeting. A tall, well-made
+man, a little past middle-age, in gaiters and light tweed coat, had
+stepped out on to the balcony from one of the open windows. In his right
+hand he was swinging carelessly backwards and forwards by a long strap a
+well-worn letter-bag.
+
+"Is breakfast ready?" he inquired.
+
+"Waiting for you, father," she answered, touching a small handbell by
+her side. "Try one of those peaches. Burdett says they are the finest he
+ever raised."
+
+He stretched out his hand for one, and sinking into a low basket chair,
+commenced lazily to peel it, with his eyes wandering over the sunny
+landscape. A footman brought out the tea equipage and some
+silver-covered dishes, and, after silently arranging them upon the
+table, withdrew.
+
+"What an exquisite morning!" Mr. Thurwell remarked, looking up at the
+blue cloudless sky, and pulling his cap a little closer over his eyes to
+protect them from the sun. "We might be in Italy again."
+
+"Indeed we might," she answered. "I am going to imagine that we are, and
+make my breakfast of peaches and cream and chocolate! Shall I give you
+some?"
+
+He shook his head, with a little grimace.
+
+"No, thanks. I'm Philistine enough to prefer devilled kidneys and tea. I
+wonder if there is anything in the letters."
+
+He drew a key from his waistcoat pocket, and, unlocking the bag, shook
+its contents upon the tablecloth. His daughter looked at the pile with a
+faint show of interest. There were one or two invitations, which he
+tossed over to her, a few business letters, which he put on one side for
+more leisurely perusal later on, and a little packet from his agent
+which he opened at once, and the contents of which brought a slight
+frown into his handsome face.
+
+Helen Thurwell glanced through her share without finding anything
+interesting. Tennis parties, archery meetings, a bazaar fête;
+absolutely nothing fresh. She was so tired of all that sort of
+thing--tired of eternally meeting the same little set of people, and
+joining in the same round of so-called amusements. There was nothing in
+Northshire society which attracted her. It was all very stupid, and she
+was very much bored.
+
+"Some news here that will interest you, Helen," her father remarked
+suddenly. "Who do you think is coming home?"
+
+She shook her head. She was not in the least curious.
+
+"I don't remember any one going away lately," she remarked. "How warm it
+is!"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is coming back."
+
+After all, she was a little interested. She looked away from the sunny
+gardens and into her father's face.
+
+"Really!"
+
+"It is a fact!" he declared. "Douglas says that he will be here to-day
+or to-morrow. Let me see, it must be nearly fifteen years since he was
+in England. Time he settled down, if he means to at all."
+
+"Was he very wild, then?" she asked.
+
+The squire nodded.
+
+"Rather!" he answered dryly. "I dare say people will have forgotten all
+about it by now, though. Forty thousand a year covers a multitude of
+sins, especially in a tenth baronet!"
+
+She asked no more questions, but leaned back in her chair, and looked
+thoughtfully across the open country towards the grey turrets of
+Kynaston Towers, from which a flag was flying. Mr. Thurwell re-read his
+agent's letter with a slight frown upon his forehead.
+
+"I don't know what to do here," he remarked.
+
+"What is it?" she asked absently. She was watching the flag slowly
+unfurling itself in the breeze, and fluttering languidly above the
+tree-tops. It was odd to think that a master was coming to rule there.
+
+"It's about Falcon's Nest. I wish I'd never thought of letting it!"
+
+"Why? It would be a great deal better occupied, surely!"
+
+"If I could let it to a decent tenant, of course it would. But, you know
+that fellow Chapman, of Mallory? He wants it!"
+
+She looked up at him quickly.
+
+"You surely would not let it to a man like that?"
+
+"Certainly not. But, on the other hand, I don't want to offend him. If I
+were to decide to stand for the county at the next election, he would be
+my most useful man in Mallory, or my worst enemy. He's just the sort of
+fellow to take offence--quickly, too."
+
+"Can't you tell him it's let?"
+
+"Not unless I do let it to some one. Of course not!"
+
+"But are there no other applications?"
+
+"Yes, there is one other," he answered; "but the most awkward part of it
+is that it's from a complete stranger. Fellow who calls himself
+'Brown.'"
+
+"Let me see the letter," she said.
+
+He passed it over the table to her. It was written on plain notepaper,
+in a peculiar, cramped handwriting.
+
+     "_London_, May 30.
+
+     "DEAR SIR,--I understand, from an advertisement in this week's
+     _Field_, that you are willing to let 'Falcon's Nest,' situated on
+     your estate. I shall be happy to take it at the rent you quote, if
+     not already disposed of. My solicitors are Messrs. Cuthbert, of
+     Lincoln's Inn; and my bankers, Gregsons. I may add that I am a
+     bachelor, living alone. The favor of your immediate reply will much
+     oblige,
+
+     "Yours faithfully,
+
+     "BERNARD BROWN."
+
+She folded the letter up, and returned it to her father without remark.
+
+"You see," Mr. Thurwell said, "my only chance of escaping from Chapman,
+without offending him, is to say that it is already let, and to accept
+this fellow's offer straight off. But it's an awful risk. How do I know
+that Brown isn't a retired tallow-chandler or something of that sort?"
+
+"Why not telegraph to his solicitors?" she suggested; "they would know
+who he was, I suppose."
+
+"That's not a bad idea!" he declared. "Morton shall ride over to Mallory
+at once. I'm glad you thought of it, Helen."
+
+Having come to this decision, Mr. Thurwell turned round and made an
+excellent breakfast, after which he and his daughter spent the day very
+much in the same manner as any other English country gentleman and young
+lady are in the habit of doing. He made a pretense of writing some
+letters and arranging some business affairs with his agent in the
+library for an hour, and, later on in the morning, he drove over to
+Mallory, and took his seat on the magistrates' bench during the hearing
+of a poaching case. After lunch, he rode to an outlying farm to inspect
+a new system of drainage, and when he returned, about an hour before
+dinner-time, he considered that he had done a good day's work.
+
+Helen spent the early part of the morning in the garden, and arranging
+freshly cut flowers about the house. Then she practised for an hour,
+solely out of a sense of duty, for she was no musician. Directly the
+time was up, she closed the piano with a sigh of relief, and spent the
+rest of the time before two o'clock reading a rather stupid novel. After
+luncheon she made a call several miles off, driving herself in a
+light-brown cart, and played several sets of tennis, having for her
+partner a very mild and brainless young curate. At dinner-time she and
+her father met again, and when he entered the room he had two slips of
+orange-colored paper in his hand.
+
+"Well, what news?" she inquired.
+
+He handed the telegrams to her without a word, and she glanced them
+through. The first was from the bankers.
+
+     "To Guy Davenant Thurwell, Esq.,
+     Thurwell Court, Northshire.
+
+     "We consider Mr. Brown a desirable tenant for you from a pecuniary
+     point of view. We know nothing of his family."
+
+The other one was from his lawyers.
+
+     "To Guy D. Thurwell, Esq.,
+     Thurwell Court, Northshire.
+
+     "Mr. Brown is a gentleman of means, and quite in a position to rent
+     'Falcon's Nest.' We are not at liberty to say anything as to his
+     antecedents or family."
+
+"What am I to do?" asked Mr. Thurwell, undecidedly. "I don't like the
+end of this last telegram. A solicitor ought to be able to say a little
+more about a client than that."
+
+Helen considered for a moment. She was so little interested in the
+matter that she found it difficult to make up her mind either way.
+Afterwards she scarcely dared think of that moment's indecision.
+
+"Perhaps so," she said. "All the same, I detest Mr. Chapman. I should
+vote for Mr. Brown."
+
+"Mr. Brown it shall be, then!" he answered. "Douglas shall write him
+to-morrow."
+
+A fortnight later Mr. Bernard Brown took up his quarters at Falcon's
+Nest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE MURDER NEAR THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+"I call it perfectly dreadful of those men!" Helen Thurwell exclaimed
+suddenly. "They're more than an hour late, and I'm desperately hungry!"
+
+"It is rank ingratitude!" Rachel Kynaston sighed. "I positively cannot
+sit still and look at that luncheon any longer. Groves, give me a
+biscuit."
+
+They were both seated on low folding-chairs out on the open moorland,
+only a few yards away from the edge of the rugged line of cliffs against
+which, many hundreds of feet below, the sea was breaking with a low
+monotonous murmur. Close behind them, on a level stretch of springy
+turf, a roughly improvised table, covered with a cloth of dazzling
+whiteness, was laden with deep bowls of lobster salad, _pâtes de foie
+gras_, chickens, truffled turkeys, piles of hothouse fruit, and many
+other delicacies peculiarly appreciated at _al fresco_ symposia; and, a
+little further away still, under the shade of a huge yellow gorse bush,
+were several ice-pails, in which were reposing many rows of gold-foiled
+bottles. The warm sun was just sufficiently tempered by a mild
+heather-scented breeze, and though it flashed gayly upon the glass and
+silver, and danced across the bosom of the blue water below, its heat
+was more pleasant than oppressive. The two women who sat there looked
+delightfully cool. Helen Thurwell especially, in her white holland gown,
+with a great bunch of heather stuck in her belt, and a faint healthy
+glow in her cheeks, looked as only an English country girl of good birth
+can look--the very personification of dainty freshness.
+
+"There go the guns again!" she exclaimed. "Listen to the echoes. They
+can't be far away now."
+
+There was a little murmur of satisfaction. Every allowance is to be made
+for such a keen sportsman as Mr. Thurwell on the glorious twelfth, but
+the time fixed for the rendezvous had been exceeded by more than an
+hour.
+
+"I have reached the limit of my endurance!" Rachel Kynaston declared,
+getting up from her seat. "I must either lunch or faint! As a matter of
+choice, I prefer the former."
+
+"They will be here directly, miss," Groves remarked, as he completed the
+finishing touches which he had been putting to the table, and stepped
+back a little to view the effect. So far as he was concerned they might
+come any time now. For once his subordinates had not failed him. Nothing
+had been forgotten; and, on the whole, he felt that he had reason to be
+proud of his handiwork.
+
+He glanced away inland again, shading his eyes with his hand.
+
+"They'll be coming round the Black Copse in five minutes," he said, half
+to himself. "James, get the other chairs out of the wagon."
+
+Rachel Kynaston was still standing up looking around her. Suddenly her
+eyes fell upon a quaintly built cottage, perched upon the edge of the
+cliff about a mile away.
+
+"I meant to ask you before, Helen," she exclaimed. "Who lives in that
+extraordinary-looking building--Falcon's Nest, I think you call it?"
+
+She moved her parasol in its direction, and looked at it curiously. A
+strange-looking abode it certainly was; built of yellow stone, with a
+background of stunted fir trees which stretched half way down the cliff
+side.
+
+Helen Thurwell looked across at it indifferently.
+
+"I can tell you his name, and that is all," she answered. "He calls
+himself Mr. Brown--Mr. Bernard Brown."
+
+"Well, who is he? What does he do?"
+
+Helen shook her head.
+
+"Really, I haven't the least idea," she declared. "I do not even know
+what he is like. He has been there for two months, and we haven't seen
+him yet. Papa called upon him, but he was out. He has not returned the
+call! He--oh, bother Mr. Brown, here they come! I'm so glad!"
+
+They both got up and looked. Rounding the corner of a long plantation,
+about half a mile away, were several men in broken line, with their guns
+under their arms; and a little way behind came three keepers, carrying
+bags.
+
+Rachel Kynaston looked at them fixedly.
+
+"One, two, three, four, five," she counted. "One short. I don't see
+Geoffrey."
+
+Helen moved to her side, and shaded her eyes with her hand. On the
+fourth finger a half hoop of diamonds, which had not been there three
+months ago, was flashing in the sunlight.
+
+"Neither do I," she said. "I wonder where he is."
+
+Her tone was a little indifferent, considering that it was her _fiancé_
+who was missing. But no one ever looked for much display of feeling from
+Helen Thurwell, not even the man who called himself her lover. Indeed,
+her unresponsiveness to his advances--a sort of delicate composure which
+he was powerless in any way to break through--had been her strongest
+attraction to Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, who was quite unused to anything of
+the sort.
+
+The men quickened their pace, and emptying their guns into the air, soon
+came within hailing distance. On that particular day of the year there
+was only one possible greeting, and Helen and her companion contented
+themselves with a monosyllable.
+
+"Well?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell was in the front rank, and evidently in the best of
+spirits. It was he who answered them.
+
+"Capital sport!" he declared heartily. "Birds a little wild, but strong,
+and plenty of them. We've made a big bag for only three guns. Sir
+Geoffrey was in capital form. Groves, open a bottle of Heidseck."
+
+"Where is Geoffrey?" asked Rachel--his sister.
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked round and discovered his absence for the first time.
+
+"I really don't know," he answered, a little bewildered; "He was with us
+a few minutes ago. What's become of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, Heggs?" he
+asked, turning round to one of the gamekeepers.
+
+"He left us at the top of the Black Copse, sir," the man answered. "He
+was coming round by the other side--shot a woodcock there once, sir," he
+said.
+
+They glanced across the moor toward Falcon's Nest. There was no one in
+sight.
+
+"He's had plenty of time to get round," remarked Lord Lathon, throwing
+down his gun. "Perhaps he's resting."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"No; he wouldn't do that," he said. "He was as keen about getting here
+as any of us. Hark! what was that?"
+
+A faint sound was borne across the moor on the lazily stirring breeze.
+Helen, whose hearing was very keen, started, and the little party
+exchanged uneasy glances.
+
+"It must have been a sea-gull," remarked Lord Lathon, who wanted his
+luncheon very badly indeed. "We'd better not wait for him. He'll turn up
+all right; Geoffrey always does. Come----"
+
+He broke off suddenly in his speech and listened. There was another
+sound, and this time there was no mistake about it. It was the low,
+prolonged howl of a spaniel--a mournful sound which struck a strange
+note in the afternoon stillness. There was breathless silence for a
+moment amongst the little group, and the becoming glow died out of
+Helen's cheek.
+
+Rachel Kynaston was the first to recover herself.
+
+"Had Sir Geoffrey a dog with him, Heggs?" she asked quickly.
+
+"Yes, miss," the man answered. "His favorite spaniel had got unchained
+somehow, and found us on the moor. I saw her at heel when he left us.
+She was very quiet, and Sir Geoffrey wouldn't have her sent back."
+
+"Then something has happened to him!" she cried. "That was Fido's howl."
+
+"Has anyone heard his gun?" Mr. Thurwell asked.
+
+There was no one left to answer him. They had all started across the
+moor toward the black patch of spinneys around which Sir Geoffrey should
+have come. Mr. Thurwell, forgetting his fatigue, hurried after them;
+and Helen, after a moment's hesitation, followed too, some distance
+behind.
+
+She ran swiftly, but her dress caught often in the prickly gorse, and
+she had to pause each time to release herself. Soon she found herself
+alone, for the others had all turned the corner of the plantation before
+she reached it. There was a strong, sickly sense of coming disaster
+swelling in her heart, and her knees were tottering. Still she held on
+her way bravely. A few yards before she reached the corner of the
+plantation, she almost ran into the arms of Lord Lathon, who was
+hurrying back to meet her. There was a ghastly shade in his pale face,
+and his voice trembled.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," he exclaimed in an agitated tone, "you must not come!
+Let me take you back. Something--has happened! I am going to Rachel.
+Come with me."
+
+She drew away from him, and threw off his restraining arm.
+
+"No; I must see for myself. Let me pass, please--at once."
+
+He tried again to prevent her, but she eluded him. A few rapid steps and
+she had gained the corner. There they all were in a little group
+scarcely a dozen yards away. A mist floated before her eyes, but she
+would see; she was determined that she would see this thing for herself.
+She struggled on a few steps nearer. There was something lying on the
+grass around which they were all gathered; something very much like a
+human shape. Ah! she could see more plainly now. It was Sir
+Geoffrey--Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. He was lying half on the grass and half
+in the dry ditch. His white face was upturned to the cloudless sky; by
+his side, and discoloring his brown tweed shooting coat, was a dark wet
+stain. In the midst of it something bright was flashing in the sunlight.
+
+She stood still, rooted to the spot with a great horror. Her pulses had
+ceased to beat. The warm summer day seemed suddenly to have closed in
+around her. There was a singing in her ears, and she found herself
+battling hard with a deadly faintness. Yet she found words.
+
+"Has he--shot himself?" she cried. "Is it an accident?"
+
+Her father turned round with a little cry, and hastened to her side.
+
+"Helen!" he gasped. "You should not be here! Come away, child! I sent
+Lathon----"
+
+"I will know--what it is. Is it an accident? Is he--dead?"
+
+He shook his head. The healthy sunburnt tan had left his face, and he
+was white to the lips.
+
+"He has been murdered!" he faltered. "Foully, brutally murdered!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+MR. BERNARD BROWN
+
+
+Murder is generally associated in one's mind with darkness, the still
+hours of night, and bestiality. It is the outcome of the fierce animal
+lust for blood, provoked by low passions working in low minds. De
+Quincey's brilliant attempt to elevate it to a place among the fine arts
+has only enriched its horrors as an abstract idea. Even detached from
+its usual environment of darkness, and ignorance, and vice, it is an
+ugly thing.
+
+But here was something quite different. Such a tragedy as this which had
+just occurred was possessed of a peculiar hideousness of its own. It
+seemed to have completely laid hold of the little group of men gathered
+round the body of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston; to have bereft them of all
+reasoning power and thought, to have numbed even their limbs and
+physical instincts. It was only a few minutes ago since they had left
+him, careless and debonair, with his thoughts intent upon the business,
+or rather the sport, of the hour. His laugh had been the loudest, his
+enjoyment the keenest, and his gun the most deadly of them all. But now
+he lay there cold and lifeless, with his heart's blood staining the
+green turf, and his sightless eyes dull and glazed. It was an awful
+thing!
+
+Physically, he had been the very model of an English country gentleman,
+tall and powerful, with great broad shoulders, and strikingly upright
+carriage, full of vigorous animal life, with the slight restlessness of
+the constant traveler banished by his sudden passion for the girl who
+had so lately promised to be his wife.
+
+She drew a little nearer--they were all too much overcome by the shock
+of this thing to prevent her--and stood with glazed eyes looking down
+upon him. Everything, even the minutest article of his dress, seemed to
+appeal to her with a strange vividness. She found herself even studying
+the large check of his shooting-coat and the stockings which she had
+once laughingly admired, and which he had ever since worn. Her eyes
+rested upon the sprig of heliotrope which, with her own fingers, she had
+arranged in his button hole, as they had strolled down the garden
+together just before the start; and the faint perfume which reached her
+where she stood, helped her to realize that she was in the thrall of no
+nightmare, but that this thing had really happened. She had never loved
+him, she had never even pretended to love him, and it was less any sense
+of personal loss than the hideous sin of it which swept in upon her as
+she stood there looking down upon him. She recognized, as she could
+never have done had he been personally dear to her, the ethical horror
+of the thing. The faintness which had almost numbed her senses passed
+away. In that swift battle of many sensations it was anger which
+survived.
+
+Her voice first broke the deep, awed stillness.
+
+"Who has done this?" she cried, pointing downward.
+
+Her words were like a sudden awakening to them all. They had been
+standing like figures in a silent tableau, stricken dumb and motionless.
+Now there was a stir. The fire in her tone had dissolved their torpor.
+She was standing on rising ground a little above the rest of them, and
+her attitude, together with the gesture by which she enforced her words,
+was full of intense dramatic force. The slim undulating beauty of her
+form was enhanced by the slight disorder of her dress, and her red-gold
+hair--she had lost her hat--shone and glistened in the sunlight till
+every thread was shining like burnished gold. They themselves were in
+the shade of the dark pine trees, and she standing upon the margin of
+the moor with the warm sunlight glowing around her, seemed like a being
+of another world. Afterwards when they recalled that scene--and there
+was no one there who ever forgot it--they could scarcely tell which
+seemed the most terrible part to them--the lifeless body of the murdered
+man with the terrible writing of death in his white face, or the tragic
+figure of Helen Thurwell, the squire's cold, graceful daughter, with her
+placid features and whole being suddenly transformed with this wave of
+passion.
+
+Mr. Thurwell drew a few steps backward, and his keen gray eyes swept the
+open country round.
+
+"There was no one in sight when we got here; but the blackguard can't be
+far away!" he said. "Heggs, and you, Smith, and you, Cook, go through
+the spinney as fast as you can, one in the middle and one on each side,
+mind! I will go up Falcon's Hill and look round. Jem, run to Mallory as
+fast as you can for Dr. Holmes, and on to the police station. Quick! all
+of you. There's not a moment to lose!"
+
+The desire for action was as strong in them now as had been their former
+torpor. Mr. Thurwell and his daughter were alone in less than a minute.
+
+"Helen, I forgot you!" he exclaimed. "I can't leave you alone, and some
+one must stay here. Where is Lathon?"
+
+"He has gone on to take Rachel home," she answered. "I will stay here. I
+am not afraid. Quick! you can see for miles from the top of the hill and
+you have your field glass. Oh, do go. Go!"
+
+He hesitated, but she was evidently very much in earnest.
+
+"I will just climb the hill and hurry down again," he said. "I cannot
+leave you here for more than a few minutes. If only we had more men with
+us!"
+
+He turned away, and walked swiftly across the moor toward the hill. For
+a minute or two she stood watching his departing figure. Then she turned
+round with a shudder and buried her face in her clasped hands. Her
+appearance was less hard now and more natural, for a sickly sense of
+horror at the sight of his body was commencing to assert itself over
+that first strange instinct of passionate anger. It was none the less
+dreadful to her because in a certain way his removal was a release. She
+had promised to marry this man, but there had been scarcely a moment
+since when she had not found herself regretting it. Now the sense of
+freedom, which she could not altogether evade, was like torture to her.
+She dropped on her knees by his side, and took his cold hand in hers. A
+few hours ago she dared not have done this, knowing very well that at
+the caressing touch of her fingers, she would have felt his strong arms
+around her in a passionate and distasteful embrace. But there was no
+fear of this now. She would never have to shrink away from him again. He
+was dead!
+
+The warm sunlight was glancing among the thickly growing pine trees in
+the plantation by her side, casting quaint shadows on the cone-strewn
+ground, across the little piece of broken paling in the bottom of the
+dry ditch, and upon the mossy bank where his head was resting upon a
+sweet-smelling tuft of heather. Most of all it flashed and glittered
+upon the inch or two of steel which still lay buried in his side--a
+curiously shaped little dagger which, although she strove to keep her
+eyes away from it, seemed to have a sort of fascination for her. Every
+time her eyes fell upon it, she turned away quickly with a little
+shudder; but, nevertheless, she looked at it more than once--and she
+remembered it.
+
+The deep stillness of the autumn afternoon presently became almost
+oppressive to her. There was the far-off, sweet low murmur of a placid
+sea rolling in upon the base of the cliffs, the constant chirping of
+ground insects, and the occasional scurrying of a rabbit through the
+undergrowth. Once a great lean rat stole up from the ditch,
+and--horrible--ran across his body; but at the sound of her startled
+movement it paused, sat for a moment quite still, with its wide-open
+black eyes blinking at her, and then to her inexpressible relief
+scampered away. She was used to the country, with its intense unbroken
+silence, but she had never felt it so hard to bear as on that afternoon.
+Time became purely relative to her. As a matter of fact, she knew
+afterwards that she could not have been alone more than five minutes. It
+was like an eternity. She listened in vain for any human sound, even for
+the far-off sweep of the scythe in the bracken, or the call of the
+laborer to his horses. The tension of those moments was horrible.
+
+She plucked a handful of bay leaves from the ditch, and strove, by
+pressing them against her temple, to cool the fever in her blood. Then
+she took up once more her position by his side, for horrible though the
+sight of it was, his body seemed to have a sort of fascination for her,
+and she could not wander far away from it. Once or twice she had looked
+round, but there had been no human figure in sight, nor any sign of any.
+But as she knelt there on the short turf, pressing the cool leaves to
+her aching forehead, she was suddenly conscious of a new sensation.
+Without hearing or seeing anything, she knew that some one was
+approaching, and, stranger still, she was conscious of a distinct
+reluctance to turn her head and see who it was. She heard no footsteps;
+the soft stillness was broken by the sound of no human voice. She wished
+to turn round, and yet she shrank from it. Something fresh was going to
+happen--something was at hand to trouble her. She made a great effort,
+and rose to her feet. Then, breaking through her conscious reluctance,
+she turned round.
+
+A single figure, at that moment on a slightly elevated ridge of the bare
+moor, stood out against the sky. He was walking swiftly toward her, and
+yet without any appearance of hurry; and from the direction in which he
+was coming, it was evident that he had just left Falcon's Nest. This
+fact and his being unknown to her sufficiently established his identity.
+It was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AN EVIL END TO AN EVIL LIFE
+
+
+They say that, as a rule, the most grotesquely unimportant trifles flash
+into the mind and engage the last thoughts of a drowning man. Regarding
+this in the light of an analogy, something of the same sort was now
+happening to Helen Thurwell.
+
+With her mind steeped in the horror of the last few hours, she yet found
+that she was able afterwards to recall every slight particular with
+regard to this man's appearance, and even his dress. She remembered the
+firm evenness of his movements, swift, yet free from all ungraceful
+haste; the extreme shabbiness of his coat, his ill-arranged neck-tie,
+escaped from all restraint of collar and waistcoat, and flying loosely
+behind him; his trousers very much turned up, and very much frayed, and
+the almost singular height of his loose angular figure. His face,
+too--she remembered that better than anything--with its pale hollow
+cheeks and delicate outline, deep-set dark blue eyes, black eyebrows,
+and long, unkempt hair, which would have looked very much the better for
+a little trimming. A man utterly regardless of his appearance, untidy,
+almost slovenly in his attire, yet with something about him different
+from other men.
+
+He was within a few yards of her when she saw a sudden change flash into
+his face as their eyes met. He hesitated and a faint color came into his
+cheeks, only to fade away again immediately, leaving them whiter than
+ever. There was something in his intense gaze which at that time she had
+no means of understanding. But it was over in a moment. He advanced
+rapidly, and stood by her side.
+
+She still watched him. She could see that his whole frame was vibrating
+with strong internal emotion as he looked downward on the glazed eyes
+and motionless form of the murdered man. His lips were pallid, and his
+hands were tightly clasped together. There was one thing which seemed to
+her very strange. He had not started, or exhibited the least sign of
+surprise at the dreadful sight. It was almost as though he had known all
+about it.
+
+"This is a terrible thing," she said in a low tone, breaking the silence
+between them for the first time. "You have heard of it, I suppose?"
+
+He dropped down on one knee, and bent close over the dead man, feeling
+his heart and pulse. In that position his face was hidden from her.
+
+"No; I knew nothing. He has been killed--like this?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did anyone see it? Is the man caught?"
+
+"We know nothing," she answered. "We found him like this. There was no
+one in sight."
+
+He rose deliberately to his feet. Her heart was beating fast now, and
+she looked searchingly into his face. It told her little. He was grave,
+but perfectly composed.
+
+"How is it that you are alone here?" he asked. "Does no one else know of
+this?"
+
+She moved her head in assent.
+
+"Yes; but they have all gone to hunt for the murderer. If only you had
+been looking from your window, you would have seen it all!"
+
+He did not look as though he shared her regret. He was standing on the
+other side of the dead man, with his arms folded and his eyes fixed
+steadily upon the cold white face. He seemed to have forgotten her
+presence.
+
+"An evil end to an evil life," he said slowly to himself, and then he
+added something which she did not hear.
+
+"You knew him, then?"
+
+He looked at her for a moment fixedly, and then down again into the dead
+man's face.
+
+"I have heard of him abroad," he said. "Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was a man
+with a reputation."
+
+"You will remember that he is dead," she said slowly, for the scorn in
+his words troubled her.
+
+He bowed his head, and was silent. Watching him closely, she could see
+that he was far more deeply moved than appeared on the surface. His
+teeth were set together, and there was a curious faint flush of color in
+his livid cheeks. She followed his eyes, wondering. They were fixed, not
+upon the dead man's face, but on the dagger which lay buried in his
+heart, and the handle of which was still visible.
+
+"That should be a clue," he remarked, breaking a short silence.
+
+"Yes. I hope to God that they will find the wretch!" she answered
+passionately.
+
+She looked up at him as she spoke. His eyes were traveling over the
+moor, and his hand was shading them.
+
+"There is some one coming," he said. "We shall know very soon."
+
+She followed his rapt gaze, and saw three men coming toward them. One
+was her father, another the underkeeper, and the third was a stranger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE INNER ROOM AT THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+Together they watched the approaching figures. Helen, standing a little
+apart, had the better view.
+
+"There is my father, and Heggs, and some one whom I do not know," she
+announced quietly. "I wonder if it is a doctor."
+
+He did not answer her. She glanced toward him, wondering at his silence
+and rigid attitude. His eyes were still bent upon the three men, and
+there was a hard, strained look in his white face. While she was
+watching him she saw a spasm of what seemed almost like physical pain
+pass across his countenance. Certainly this was no unfeeling man. In his
+way he seemed as deeply moved as she herself was.
+
+They were quite close now, and she had a good view of the stranger. He
+did not look, by any means, a person to be afraid of. In all her life
+she thought she had never seen such a handsome old gentleman--and
+gentleman he most assuredly was. His hair was quite white, and his
+beard--carefully trimmed and pointed after the fashion of one of
+Velasquez' pictures--was of the same color. Yet his walk was upright and
+vigorous, and he carried himself with dignity. His high forehead, and
+rather long, oval face, with its delicate, clearly cut features, had at
+once the stamp of intellect and benevolence, and, as though preserved by
+careful and refined living, had still much of the freshness of youth.
+He was dressed in a rough tweed walking-suit, with gaiters and thick
+boots, and carried under his arm a somewhat ponderous book, and a
+botanical specimen case. Helen felt a woman's instinctive liking for him
+before she had even heard him speak.
+
+"Have you thought us long, Helen?" her father exclaimed anxiously. "We
+haven't seen anything of the scoundrel, but Heggs was fortunate enough
+to meet Sir Allan Beaumerville on the moor, and he very kindly offered
+to return."
+
+Sir Allan was on his knees by the body before Mr. Thurwell had finished
+his sentence. They all watched his brief examination.
+
+"Poor fellow! poor fellow!" he exclaimed in a shocked tone. "That
+wretched thing"--lightly touching the handle of the dagger--"is clean
+through his heart. It was a strong, cruel arm that drove that home.
+Nothing can be done, of course. He must have died within a few seconds!"
+He rose from his knees and looked around. "What is to be done with the
+body?" he asked. "It must be removed somewhere. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+did you say it was? Dear me! dear me! I knew his sister quite well."
+
+"She is not far away," Mr. Thurwell said. "She and my daughter were
+awaiting luncheon for us on the cliffs yonder, when this horrible thing
+occurred. Lathon went back to look for her. We were afraid that she
+might follow us here. She was very fond of her brother, and he had only
+just returned home after many years' traveling."
+
+"Poor fellow!" Sir Allan said softly. "But about moving him. Who lives
+in that queer-looking place yonder?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell, who knew his tenant by sight, although they had never
+spoken, looked at him and hesitated. Sir Allan did the same.
+
+"That is where I live," Mr. Brown said slowly. "If Mr. Thurwell thinks
+well, let him be taken there."
+
+He spoke without looking round or addressing any one in particular. His
+back was turned upon the celebrated physician.
+
+"The nearest place would be best, in a case like this," Sir Allan
+remarked. "Have you sent for any help?"
+
+"Some of my men are coming across the moor there," Mr. Thurwell said,
+pointing them out. "They can take a gate off the hinges to carry him on."
+
+A little troop of awed servants, whom Lord Lathon had sent down from the
+Court, together with some farm laborers whom they had picked up on the
+way, were soon on the spot.
+
+Mr. Thurwell gave some brief directions, and in a few minutes the high
+five-barred gate, with "private" painted across it in white letters, was
+taken from its hinges, and the body carefully laid upon it. Then Mr.
+Thurwell turned resolutely to his daughter.
+
+"Helen, you must go home now," he said firmly. "Jackson will take you.
+We can spare him easily."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I would rather stay," she said quietly. "I shall not faint, or do
+anything stupid, I promise you."
+
+Sir Allan Beaumerville looked at her curiously. It was a strange thing
+to him, notwithstanding his wide experience, to find a girl of her years
+so little outwardly moved by so terrible a tragedy. Mr. Thurwell, too,
+was surprised. He knew that she had never loved Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+but, nevertheless, he had expected her to show more emotion than this,
+if only for the horror of it all. And yet, looking at her more closely,
+he began to understand--to realize that her calmness was only attained
+by a strenuous repression of feeling, and that underneath it all was
+something very different. Though her voice was firm, her cheeks were
+deadly pale, and there was a peculiar tightening of the lips and light
+in her eyes which puzzled him. Her expression seemed to speak less of
+passive grief, than of some active determination--some strong desire.
+She had all the appearance of a woman who was bracing herself up for
+some ordeal, nerving herself with all the stimulus of a firm will to
+triumph over her natural feelings, and follow out a difficult purpose.
+Mr. Thurwell scarcely recognized his own daughter. She was no longer a
+somewhat languid, beautiful girl, looking out upon the world with a sort
+of petulant indifference--petulant, because, with all the high
+aspirations of a somewhat romantic disposition, she could see nothing in
+it to interest her. All that had passed away. The warm breath of some
+awakening force in her nature seemed to have swept before it all her
+languor, and all her petulance. They were gone, and in their place was a
+certain air of reserve and thoughtful strength which seems always to
+cling to those men and women who face the world with a definite purpose
+before them. Mr. Thurwell knitted his brows, and had nothing to say.
+
+A sad little procession was formed, and started slowly for the cottage
+on the cliff side, the four stalwart men stooping beneath their heavy
+burden, and somehow falling into the measured steady tramp common to
+corpse bearers. None of them ever forgot that walk. Slowly they wound
+their way around many brilliant patches of deep yellow gorse and purple
+heather, and the warm sunlight glancing across the moor and glittering
+away over the water threw a strange glow upon the still, cold face of
+their ghastly burden. A soft breeze sprung from the sea, herald of the
+advancing eventide, following the drowsy languor of the perfect autumnal
+day. The faintly stirred air was full of its quickening exhilaration,
+but it found no human response in their heavy hearts. Solemn thoughts
+and silence came over all of them. Scarcely a word was spoken on the way
+to their destination.
+
+By some chance, or at least it seemed like chance, Helen found herself a
+few steps behind the others, with Mr. Brown by her side. They, too,
+walked along in unbroken silence. His eyes were steadily fixed upon the
+ground, hers were wandering idly across the sparkling blue sea with its
+foam-crested furrows to the horizon. Whatever her thoughts were, they
+had changed her expression for the time; to a certain extent its late
+definiteness was gone, and a dreamy, refined abstraction had taken its
+place.
+
+"If I had to die," she said, half to herself, "I would choose to die on
+such a day as this."
+
+He raised his dark eyes and looked at her.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I scarcely know," she said hesitatingly. "And yet, in my own mind, I
+do. It is so beautiful! It seems to give one a sense of peace and
+hope--I cannot explain it. It is the sort of thing one feels, and feels
+only."
+
+He looked down again.
+
+"I know what you mean. You would fear annihilation less?"
+
+"Annihilation! Is that your creed?"
+
+"Sometimes, if it were not for scenes like this, I might believe it
+possible," he answered slowly. "As it is, I do not! The exquisite beauty
+of the earth denies it! I pin my faith to a great analogy. The natural
+world is a reflex of the spiritual, and in the natural world there is no
+annihilation. Nothing can ever die. Nor can our souls ever die."
+
+She looked at him keenly. The dreamy speculation had gone from her eyes.
+The fire of her former purpose had returned.
+
+"It is well to feel like that. You would rather be Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, then, than his murderer, even now?"
+
+He raised his hand quickly to his forehead, as though in pain. It was
+gone in an instant, but she had been watching.
+
+"Yes, I would," he answered fervently. "Sir Geoffrey was a wicked man,
+but he may have repented. He had his opportunities."
+
+"How do you know that he was wicked?" she asked quickly.
+
+"I heard of him abroad--many years ago. Will you excuse me, Miss
+Thurwell. I must hurry on and open the door for them."
+
+He walked swiftly on, leaving her alone. When they reached their
+destination, he was there waiting for them.
+
+It was a strangely situated and strangely built abode. A long low
+building of deep yellow stone, half hidden by various creepers, and
+inaccessible on the side from which they approached it save to foot
+passengers. From the bottom of the winding path which they had to climb
+it seemed to hang almost sheer over the cliff side. A thickly growing
+patch of stunted pine trees rising abruptly in the background literally
+overtopped the tiled roof. From the summit of this plantation to the sea
+was one abrupt precipice, thickly overgrown for the first hundred feet
+or so by pine trees growing out from the side of the cliff in strange
+huddled fashion, the haunt of sea birds and a few daring rabbits.
+
+They passed in at the hand-gate, and toiled up the steep path, threading
+their way among a wilderness of overgrown box shrubs, long dank grass
+and strange weeds. Helen, with her eyes fixed upon an open window on the
+right wing of the cottage, fell a little behind. The others came to a
+halt before the open door.
+
+Mr. Brown met them and preceded them along the passage.
+
+"I think he had better be carried in here," he said, motioning toward
+the room on the left-hand side, the side remote from the sea. "I have
+brought a sofa."
+
+They stood on the threshold and looked in. The room was absolutely
+unfurnished, and the shutters had only just been thrown back, letting in
+long level gleams of sunlight, which fell upon the bare floor and damp
+walls, from which the discolored paper was commencing to peel off. Long
+cobwebs hung from the ceiling, waving slowly backward and forward in the
+unaccustomed draught. Helen Thurwell, who had just joined the little
+group, with a curious light in her eyes, and a deep spot of color in her
+pale cheeks, looked around and shivered. Mr. Thurwell, with a landlord's
+instinct, began to wonder who was at fault, his agent or his tenant.
+
+The four men tramped in, their footsteps sounding dreary and mournful on
+the uncarpeted floor, and awakening strange rumbling echoes. Helen
+looked at them for a moment, all clustered round the single sofa which
+stood in the middle of the apartment, and then stepped softly back again
+into the hall. She looked around her eagerly, yet with no idle
+curiosity.
+
+The whole interior of the place appeared bare and comfortless. There
+were no rugs in the hall, no carpet on the stairs, nor a single sign of
+habitation. Nor was there any servant about. She looked again into the
+room out of which she had just stepped. They were preparing to lift the
+body from the gate, which they had laid upon the floor, on to the sofa.
+She stepped back into the hall, and listened. There was no sound from
+any other part of the house. They were all too deeply engrossed to think
+of her. It was her chance!
+
+She was very pale, and very resolute. The look which had come into her
+face for so short a time ago had had its meaning. The time for action
+had come. It was sooner than she had expected; but she was ready.
+
+With swift noiseless step she crossed the hall and softly turned the
+handle of the door on the opposite side. It opened at once, and she
+stepped inside. She listened again. As yet she was undetected. She drew
+a little breath and glanced searchingly around her.
+
+This room, too, was unfurnished, save that the floor was covered with
+cases full of books. Straight in front of her was another door, leading,
+as she knew, into a smaller apartment. Dare she go forward? She listened
+for a moment. There was no sound save the low muffled voices of the men
+who were lifting Sir Geoffrey on to the couch. Supposing she were
+discovered here? At the most, she would be suspected of a vulgar
+curiosity. It all flashed through her mind in a moment, and her decision
+was taken. Gathering her skirts in her hand lest they should catch
+against the edges of the cases, she threaded her way through them, and
+stood before the door of the inner room. She tried the handle. It
+yielded easily to her touch. She had gone too far to draw back now. In a
+moment she had passed the threshold, and the whole contents of the
+little room were disclosed to her.
+
+Of all the senses, the eyes seem to carry the most lasting impression to
+the brain. One eager glance around, and the whole seemed photographed
+into her memory. A little strip of faded carpet only half covering the
+floor, piles upon piles of books, and a small table littered all over
+with foolscap, a few fine prints and etchings roughly hung upon the
+walls, a group of exquisite statuettes all huddled together, and an oak
+cabinet strongly bound with brass clasps--they were the things she
+chiefly remembered. The whole room was in the wildest disorder, as
+though the contents had been just shot inside and left to arrange
+themselves.
+
+After that single cursory glance, Helen looked no more around her. Her
+whole attention was riveted upon the window exactly opposite. As she had
+seen from the outside, it was wide open, and several branches of a shrub
+growing up against it were broken off. From the leaves of the same shrub
+several drops of water were hanging, and on the ground below was a wet
+patch. She looked back into the room again. In one corner was an empty
+basin, and by its side, rolled up tightly, was a rough towel.
+
+Before she could make any movement in that direction, another thing
+struck her. On a certain spot close by the side of the basin a pile of
+books was arranged in disorderly fashion enough, but with some little
+method. An idea flashed in upon her. They were arranged in that manner
+to hide something upon the floor.
+
+She made a quick motion forward. Then she stopped short, and lifted her
+eyes to the door. Her cheeks burned, and her heart beat fast. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was standing on the threshold, looking at her in mute
+amazement, and over his shoulder was the pale stern face of Mr. Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A TERRIBLE ENEMY
+
+
+Afterwards Helen looked back upon those few moments as the most
+uncomfortable of her life. She was caught in the very act of a most
+unwarrantable and even immodest intrusion, which in the eyes of these
+two men could only appear like the attempted gratification of a
+reprehensible and vulgar curiosity. She made one spasmodic attempt to
+kindle her suspicions into a definite accusation, to stand upon her
+dignity, and demand an explanation of what she had seen. But she failed
+utterly. Directly she tried to clothe the shreds of this idea of hers
+with words, and to express them, she seemed to vividly realize the
+almost ludicrous improbability of the whole thing. One glance into the
+pale, dignified face which was bent upon her full of unconcerned
+surprise--and hateful to her with a gentle shade of pity at her
+confusion already creeping into it--and her attempt collapsed. She felt
+her cheeks burn with shame, and her eyes drooped before his steady gaze.
+She began to long feverishly for something to dissolve the situation.
+The silence was dreadful to her, but she could think of nothing to say.
+It was Mr. Brown, at last, who spoke.
+
+"I was afraid you would not be able to find your way, Miss Thurwell," he
+said quietly. "I must apologize for asking you to come into such a den.
+The small engraving on the wall is the proof 'Bartolozzi' I spoke to you
+about. The head is perfect, is it not? Some day I should like to show
+you my 'Guido.' I am afraid, just now, I could not expect you to
+appreciate them."
+
+She murmured something--what, she scarcely knew, and he did not appear
+to hear. The cold surprise disappeared from Sir Allan's face. Evidently
+he believed in Mr. Brown's mercifully offered explanation of her
+presence here.
+
+"What! are you an enthusiast, Miss Thurwell?" he exclaimed. "Well, well,
+I was worse myself once in my younger days, before my profession made a
+slave of me. Surely, that is a genuine 'Velasquez,' Mr. Brown. Upon my
+word! Fancy coming across such a treasure here!"
+
+He picked his way across the disorderly chamber, and, adjusting his
+eyeglass, stood looking at the picture. Helen made a hasty movement
+towards the door, and Mr. Brown followed her into the adjoining room.
+
+"If I had known that I was to be honored by a visit from a lady," he
+said, "I would have endeavored----"
+
+She turned suddenly round upon him with flaming cheeks.
+
+"Don't," she interrupted, almost beseechingly. "Mr. Brown, you were very
+good to me just then. Thank you! I was most abominably rude to go into
+that room without your permission."
+
+Her eyes were fixed upon the floor, and her distress was evident. It was
+clear that she felt her position acutely.
+
+"Pray say no more about it," he begged earnestly. "It isn't worth a
+second thought."
+
+She stopped with her back to one of the great cases filled with books,
+and hesitated. Should she confess to him frankly why she had gone
+there, and ask his pardon for such a wild thought? She raised her eyes
+slowly, and looked at him. Of course it was absurd. She has been out of
+her mind, she knew that now; and yet----
+
+She looked at him more closely still. He had not seemed in any way
+disturbed when they had found her in that room--only a little surprised
+and bewildered. And yet, after all, supposing his composed demeanor had
+been only assumed. He was certainly very pale, very pale indeed, and
+there was a slight twitching of his hands which was out of character
+with his absolute impassiveness. Supposing it should be a forced
+composure. He looked like a man capable of exercising a strong control
+over his feelings. Supposing it should be so. Was there not, after all,
+just a chance that her former suspicions were correct?
+
+The action of the mind is instantaneous. All these thoughts and doubts
+merely flashed through it, and they left her very confused and
+undecided. Her sense of gratitude towards him for shielding her before
+Sir Allan Beaumerville, and the intuitive sympathy of her nature with
+the delicacy and tact which he had shown in his manner of doing so, were
+on the whole stronger than her shadowy suspicions. And yet these latter
+had just sufficient strength to check the impulse of generosity which
+prompted her to confess everything to him. She did not tell him why she
+had started on the quest which had come to such an ignominious
+conclusion. She offered him no explanation whatever.
+
+"It was very good of you," she repeated. "I did not deserve it at all.
+And now I must go and look for my father."
+
+Mr. Thurwell was waiting in the hall, somewhat surprised at her
+absence. But he asked no questions. His thoughts were too full of the
+terrible thing which had happened to his friend and neighbor--and withal
+his daughter's betrothed.
+
+They walked back across the moor together, saying very little, for there
+was only one possible subject for conversation, and both of them shrank
+a little from speaking about it. But when they were more than half-way
+to their destination, she asked a question.
+
+"Nothing has been discovered, I suppose, of the murderer?"
+
+Her father shook his head.
+
+"Nothing. The dagger is our only clue as yet--except this."
+
+He drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and touched it lightly
+with his finger.
+
+"What is it? May I see?"
+
+He handed it to her at once.
+
+"It was in his pocket," he said. "I am keeping it to hand over to the
+proper authorities. Mr. Brown offered to take care of it, but I felt
+that, as a magistrate, I was in a measure responsible for everything in
+the shape of a clue, so I brought it away with me. Read it."
+
+She opened the half sheet of notepaper and glanced down it. It was
+written in a queer cramped handwriting--evidently disguised.
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, you are doing a very rash and foolish thing in
+coming back to your own country, and thereby publishing your whereabouts
+to the world. Have you forgotten what hangs over you--or can you be so
+mad as to think that he has forgiven? Read this as a warning; and if
+life is in any way dear to you, go back to that hiding which alone has
+kept you safe for so many years. Do not hesitate or delay for one
+half-hour--one minute may be too long. If, after reading this, you
+linger in England, and disregard my warning, take care that you look
+into your life and hold yourself prepared to die."
+
+She gave it back to him. There was some one, then, whom he had injured
+very deeply. It was like an echo from that stormy past of which many
+people had spoken.
+
+"He had an enemy," she murmured, passing her arm through her father's.
+
+"It seems so," he answered. "A terrible enemy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+HELEN THURWELL'S SUSPICIONS
+
+
+On a certain September day, about six weeks after the funeral of Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, Mr. Brown was spending what appeared to be a very
+pleasant afternoon. He was lying stretched out at full length on a dry
+mossy bank, with a volume of Shelley in his hand, and a case of thick
+Egyptian cigarettes by his side. In his ears was the whispering of the
+faint breeze amongst the pines, and the soft murmuring of the sea,
+hundreds of feet below, seen like a brilliant piece of patchwork through
+the fluttering leaves and dark tree-trunks which surrounded him. There
+was nothing to disturb the sweet silence of the drowsy afternoon. It was
+a charming spot which he had chosen, and he was quite alone. People,
+amongst whom for the last few weeks his name had become a fruitful
+source of conversation, were already beginning to fancy him flying
+across the country in an express train, or loitering on the docks at
+Liverpool, waiting for an Atlantic liner, or sitting at home trembling
+and fearful, struggling to hide his guilt beneath a calm exterior. But,
+as a matter of fact, he was doing none of these things. The harsh
+excitement of the busy gossips, and their stern judgment, troubled him
+nothing, for he was unconscious of them. He was away in thoughtland,
+dreaming of a fair, proud young face seen first on the rude pavement of
+an old Italian town, where its sweet composed freshness, amongst a pile
+of magnificent ruins, had captivated his artist's sense almost before it
+had touched his man's heart. He thought of the narrow street shutting in
+the sky till, looking upwards, it seemed like one deep band of glorious
+blue--of the ruined grey palace, with still some traces left of its
+former stately grace, and of the fountain playing in the moss-encrusted
+courtyard, gleaming like silver in the sunlight as it rose and fell into
+the worn stone basin. Here, where the very air seemed full of the
+records of a magnificent decay, everything seemed to form a fitting
+framework in his memory for that one face. It had been an artist's
+dream--or had it been the man's? Never the latter; he told himself
+sadly. Such were not for him. It had been better far that he had never
+seen her again. Before, the memory had been a very sweet one, stored
+away in his mind amongst all the great and beautiful things he had seen
+in his wanderings, always with a dainty freshness clinging to it, as
+though it had lain carefully preserved in perfume and spices. Was this
+new joy, of having seen and spoken to her, a better thing? this vague
+unsettlement of his being, which played havoc with his thoughts, and
+stirred up a whole host of strange new feelings in his heart? Surely
+not! It seemed to him like the breathing of warm new life into what had
+been a crystallized emotion--the humanizing of something spiritual.
+Surely, for him, it had better have remained in that first stage.
+
+There was the sound of a light footstep on the springy turf. He started
+to his feet. A girl, tall and slim, was coming swiftly along the winding
+path through the plantation towards him. He knew at once that it was
+Helen Thurwell.
+
+They were both equally surprised. As she looked up and saw him standing
+upright in the narrow path, tall, thin, and unnaturally pale, with the
+cigarette still burning between his fingers, and his book in his other
+hand, she felt strangely stirred. Neither was he unmoved by her sudden
+appearance, for though not a feature twitched, not a single gleam of
+color relieved the still pallor of his face, there was a new light in
+his dry brilliant eyes. But there was a vast difference between the
+thoughts which flashed into his mind and those which filled hers. To him
+there had stolen a sweetness into the summer's day surpassing the soft
+sunlight, and a presence which moved every pulse in his being, and crept
+like maddening fire through every sense. And to her, the sight of him
+was simply a signal to brace up all her powers of perception; to watch
+with suspicion every change of his features, and every tone of his
+voice. Had he shown any emotion at the sight of her, she would have
+attributed it to a guilty conscience, and would have made note of it in
+her mind against him. And as he showed none--none, at least, that she
+could detect--she put it down to the exercise of a strong will, and was
+a little disappointed. For she had gone with the tide, and, womanlike,
+having embraced an idea, it had already become as truth to her. Mr.
+Brown was the man who had murdered Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. It was a
+murderer with whom she was standing side by side among the glancing
+shadows of the rustling pine groves. It must be so!
+
+Yet she did not shrink from him. After her first hesitation at the sight
+of a man's figure standing up amongst the dark tree-trunks, she had
+walked steadily on until she had reached him. And he, without any change
+of countenance, had simply stood and watched her. God! how beautiful
+she was! The sunlight, gleaming through the tops of the trees in long
+slanting rays, played like fire upon her red-gold hair; and the plain
+black gown, which yielded easily to her graceful movements, seemed to
+show every line of her supple yet delicate figure. She came nearer
+still, so near that he could trace the faint blue veins in her forehead,
+and once more recall the peculiar color of her eyes. Then he spoke to
+her, raising his hand with a suddenly returning instinct of
+conventionality for his cap; but he had risen without it, and was
+standing before her bare-headed.
+
+"I am a trespasser, I fear," he said hesitatingly.
+
+She came to a standstill by his side, and shook her head slowly.
+
+"No, this is common land. There is a footpath, you see, although it is
+seldom used. It leads nowhere but to the Court."
+
+"It is a favorite walk of mine," he said.
+
+"Yes, it is pleasant. You bring a companion with you," she remarked,
+pointing to his book.
+
+He glanced down at it, and then up at her again.
+
+"Yes; a faithful friend, too. We spend a good deal of time out of doors
+together."
+
+She read the title, and glanced up at him with a shade of interest in
+her face.
+
+"Shelley was a great poet, I suppose," she said; "but I do not
+understand him."
+
+For the first time his expression changed. A sudden light swept across
+his face, and in a moment it was glowing with sensibility and
+enthusiasm. She looked at him astonished. He stood before her revealed
+in a new light, and, although unwillingly, she saw him with different
+eyes.
+
+"Not understand Shelley! Ah! but that is because you have not tried,
+then. If you had, you would not only understand, but you would love
+him."
+
+She shook her head. In reality she felt that he was right, that her
+languid attempts to read him by a drawing-room fire, with the _Queen_
+beside her, and her mind very full of very little things, had not been
+the spirit in which to approach a great poet. But, partly out of womanly
+perversity, and partly out of curiosity to hear what he would say, she
+chose to dissent from him.
+
+"I find him too mystical," she said; "too incomprehensible."
+
+He looked down at her from his superior height with kindling eyes. It
+was odd how greatly she was surprised in him. She had imagined him to be
+a cynic.
+
+"Mystical!" he repeated. "Yes, in a certain sense, he is so; and it is
+his greatest charm. But incomprehensible!--no. The essence of all
+artistic poetry is in the perfect blending of matter and form, so that
+the meaning creeps in upon us, but with a certain vagueness, a certain
+indefiniteness, which reaches us more in the shade of a dreamy
+consciousness than through the understanding. May I give you an
+illustration? We stand upon a low plain and gaze upon a far-off range of
+hills, from the sides of which thick clouds of white mist are hanging.
+Gradually, as the sun rises higher in the heavens, they float away, and
+we begin dimly to see through a clearer atmosphere the yellow corn
+waving on the brown hillside, the smoke rising from the lonely
+farmhouse, and, if we have patience and wait still, by-and-by we can
+even distinguish the brilliant patches of wild flowers, the poppies and
+the cornflowers in the golden fields, and the marsh marigolds in the
+meadows at the foot of the hill. It is a question of waiting long
+enough. So it is with what people call mysticism in poetry."
+
+For the first time for many months a faint color had found its way into
+his wan cheeks. His face was alight with interest, and his dark eyes
+shone from their deep hollows with a new, soft fire. From that moment he
+assumed a new place in her thoughts. She was loath to grant it to him,
+but she had no alternative. Guilty or innocent, this man had something
+in him which placed him high above other men in her estimation. She felt
+stirred in a manner peculiarly grateful to her. It was as though every
+chord of her being had been tuned into fresh harmony; as though the hand
+of a magician had lifted the curtain which had enclosed her too narrow
+life, and had shown her a new world glowing with beauty and promise.
+She, too, wanted to feel like that; to taste the pleasures which this
+man tasted, and to feel the enthusiasm which had lit up his pale
+scholarly face.
+
+At that moment her mind was too full to harbor those dark suspicions.
+With a sudden effort she threw them overboard, trampled on them, scouted
+them. Was this the face and the tongue of a murderer? Surely not!
+
+"Thank you," she said softly. "I shall like to think over what you have
+said. Now I must go."
+
+Her words seemed to bring him back to his old self. He stooped down and
+picked up his cap.
+
+"You are going back to the Court?" he asked. "Let me walk to the end of
+the plantation with you."
+
+She assented silently, and they turned along the narrow path side by
+side. Below them a bracken-covered cliff, studded with dwarfed trees,
+ran down to the sea; and on their left hand the black firs, larger and
+growing more thickly together, shut out completely the open moorland
+beyond. He had walked there before beneath a sky of darker blue, and
+when there had been only stray gleams of moonlight shining through the
+cone-laden boughs to show him the rough path; and he had been there when
+the tree-tops had bent beneath the shrieking wind, when the black clouds
+had been flying over his head, and the roar of the angry sea had filled
+the air with thunder. And these things had stirred him--one of nature's
+sons--in many ways. Yet none of them had sent the warm blood coursing
+through his veins like quicksilver, or had stolen through his senses
+with such sweet heart-stirring impetuosity as did the presence of this
+tall, fair girl, walking serenely by his side in thoughtful silence.
+Once, when too near the edge of the cliff, she put her foot on a
+fir-cone and stumbled, and the touch of her hand, as he caught hold of
+it to steady her, sent a thrill of keen, exquisite pleasure through his
+whole frame. He held it perhaps a little longer than necessary, and she
+let him. For the moment she had lost the sense of physical touch, and
+the firm grasp of his fingers upon hers seemed to her, in a certain
+sense, only an analogy to the sudden sympathy which had sprung up
+between them. Even when realization came, she drew her hand away gently,
+without anger, without undue haste even. One glance into his face at
+that moment would have told her everything; the whole horror of the
+situation would have flashed in upon her, and she would have been
+overwhelmed. But she did not look, and long before they had come to the
+end of the path the passionate light had died out from his eyes, and had
+left no trace behind. Once more he was only a plain, sad-looking man,
+hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked, with bent head and stooping frame.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DID YOU KILL SIR GEOFFREY KYNASTON?
+
+
+At the extremity of the plantation they came to a small wicket-gate
+opening out on to the cliff top. From here there was a path inland to
+the Court, whilst Falcon's Nest was straight in front of them. At the
+parting of the ways they hesitated, for it seemed necessary that they
+should part.
+
+And whilst they looked around a little dazzled, having just emerged from
+the darkness of the plantation, they were conscious of a new glory in
+the heavens. Far away across the moorland the autumn sun had shot its
+last rays over the level plain and sea, and had sunk quietly to rest. It
+was not one of Turner's wild sunsets. There were no banks of angry
+clouds full of lurid coloring, flashing their glory all over the western
+sky. But in a different fashion it was equally beautiful. Long level
+streaks of transparent light, emerging from an ethereal green to a deep
+orange, lay stretched across the heavens, and a faint golden haze rising
+from the land seemed to mingle with them, and form one harmonious mass
+of coloring. And the air too was different--purer and rarer than the
+enervating atmosphere of the drowsy afternoon. Together they stood and
+became subject to the subtle charm of their environment. It seemed to
+Helen Thurwell then that a change was creeping into her life. Impersonal
+thought had attained a new strength and a new sweetness. But at that
+time she had no knowledge of what it meant.
+
+"See!" he exclaimed softly, pointly westward, "there is what Coleridge
+made dear to us for ever, and Byron vainly scoffed at--the 'green light
+that lingers in the west.'"
+
+He repeated the stanza absently, and half to himself, with a sudden
+oblivion of her presence--
+
+    "It were a vain endeavor,
+     Though I should gaze for ever
+     On that green light that lingers in the west.
+     I may not hope from outward forms to win
+     The passion and the life whose fountains are within."
+
+She watched him as his voice sank lower and lower, and though his eyes
+were dry and bright, she saw a look of intense sadness sweep across his
+face. Almost she felt inclined to let her natural sympathy escape
+her--to let loose the kind and tender words which had leapt up from her
+heart, and even trembled upon her lips. But a rush of consciousness
+came, and she choked them back. Thus much she could do, but no more. She
+could not at that moment look upon him as the man already suspected in
+many quarters of a most brutal murder. For the instant, all was blotted
+out. Had she tried she could not at that moment have revived her own
+suspicions. They seemed to her like some grotesque fungi of the
+mind--poisonous weeds to be crushed and destroyed. But the seed was
+there.
+
+"Those are the saddest lines I ever read," she said quietly. "It is a
+true ode to dejection."
+
+"And therefore they are very precious," he answered. "It is always sweet
+to find your own emotions so exquisitely expressed. It is like a
+spiritual narcotic."
+
+"And yet--yet such poems encourage sadness, and that is morbid."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"To be sad is not necessarily to be unhappy," he answered. "That sounds
+like a paradox, but it isn't! You remember the 'gentle melancholy' which
+Milton loved. There is something sweet in that, is there not?"
+
+"But it is not like that with you," she said quickly.
+
+He threw his arms up into the air with a sudden wild gesture of absolute
+despair. She had touched a chord in his nature too roughly, and it had
+not stood the strain. For a moment he had thrown off his mask. His white
+face was ghastly, and his eyes were burning with a hopeless passion.
+
+"My God! No!" he cried. "I am in the depths of hell, with never a gleam
+of hope to lead me on. And the sin--the sin----"
+
+He stopped suddenly, and his hands fell to his side. Slowly he turned
+round and looked at her, half doubtfully, half fearfully. What had he
+said? What had she heard? What did that look in her face mean--that look
+of anguish, of fear, of horror? Why did she not speak, even though it
+were to accuse him? Anything rather than that awful silence.
+
+Twice she moved her white lips, but no sound came. The power of
+articulation seemed gone. Then she caught him by the arm, and turned him
+slowly round so that he faced his cottage. Only a few yards below them
+was the spot where she and her sister-in-law that was to have been had
+lolled in their low chairs by the luncheon-table, and had begun to feel
+impatient for the coming of one who had never come. Further away still,
+across the moor, was that dark circular patch of plantation behind which
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston had been found, and away upon the cliffs
+overlooking the scene of the murder was Falcon's Nest.
+
+The grasp on his arm tightened. Then she stretched out her other hand,
+and with shaking fingers pointed downwards--pointed to the very spot
+where the deed had been done. The memory of it all came back to her, and
+hardened her set white face. She looked him straight in the eyes without
+a quiver, and clenched her teeth.
+
+"Did you--do that?" she asked in a firm, hard tone.
+
+A curious mind slumber seemed to have crept over him. His eyes followed
+her outstretched hand, and his lips idly repeated her words.
+
+"Did you kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"
+
+Her words fell sharp and clear upon the still air. A tremor passed
+through his whole frame, and the light of a sudden understanding flashed
+across his face. He was his old self again, and more than his old self.
+
+"You are joking, of course, Miss Thurwell?" he said quietly. "You do not
+mean that seriously?"
+
+She caught her breath, and looked at him. After all, it is only a step
+from tragedy to commonplace. He was deathly pale, but calm and composed.
+He had conquered himself just in time. Another moment, and she felt
+assured that she would have known all. Never mind! it should come, she
+told herself. The end was not yet.
+
+"No; of course I did not mean it seriously," she repeated slowly. "Who
+are those men coming up the hill? Can you see?"
+
+He moved a little nearer to her, and looked downward. On the slope of
+the hill were three men. She had recognized them already, and she
+watched him steadily.
+
+"Your father is one," he said quietly. "The other two are strangers to
+me."
+
+"Perhaps I can tell you something about them," she said, still watching
+him intently. "One is the constable from Mallory, and the other is a
+detective."
+
+There was a slight hardening of his face, and she fancied that she saw
+his under lip quiver for a moment. Had he shown any guilty fear, had he
+shrunk back, or uttered a single moan, her sympathy would never have
+been aroused. But as it was, she was a woman, and her face softened,
+and the tears stood in her eyes. There was something almost grand
+in the composure with which he was waiting for what seemed
+inevitable--something of the magnificent resignation with which the
+noblemen of France one by one took their place at the block, and the
+simile was heightened by the slightly contemptuous, slightly defiant
+poise of his finely shaped head. She saw him cast one lingering glance
+around at the still sea, with its far-off motionless sails; at the clear
+sky, from which the brilliancy of coloring was fading away, and at the
+long sweep of moorland with its brilliant patches of heather and gorse,
+now slightly blurred by the mists rising from the earth. It was as
+though he were saying a last farewell to things which he had loved, and
+which he would see no more--and it had a strange effect upon her. The
+memory of that hideous crime left her. She could think only of the
+abstract pathos of the present situation, and she felt very miserable.
+It was wrong, unnatural of her; but at that moment, if she could have
+helped him to escape, she would have done her best in the face of them
+all.
+
+They were almost at hand now, and she lifted her eyes, in which the
+tears were fast gathering. She thought nothing of her own situation--of
+their finding her alone with the murderer. With characteristic
+unselfishness she thought only of him.
+
+She met her father's surprised gaze with indifference. She had a sort of
+feeling that nothing mattered much. What was going to happen eclipsed
+everything else.
+
+And so it did. Her apathy changed in a moment to amazement, and her
+heart stood still. Her father had raised his hat to Mr. Brown with even
+more than the usual courtesy of his salute, and the two officials had
+saluted in the most correct fashion.
+
+"Mr. Brown," he said, "we have all come in search of you to tender our
+most sincere apologies for an unfortunate mistake. Police Constable
+Chopping here is mostly to blame, and next to him, I am."
+
+She glanced at the man by her side. His face was absolutely
+impenetrable. It showed no signs of the relief which was creeping into
+hers. His composure was simply wonderful.
+
+"The fact is," her father continued, "Chopping came to see me with a
+long tale and a certain request which, under the circumstances--which I
+will explain to you afterwards--I could not as a magistrate refuse. I
+was compelled to sign a search warrant for him to go over Falcon's Nest.
+It was against my inclination, and a most unpleasant duty for me to
+perform. But I considered it my duty, and I attended there myself in
+order that it might not be abused. I hope to have your forgiveness for
+the liberty which we were compelled to take."
+
+There was still no change in Mr. Brown's face, but, standing close to
+him, she heard him take a quick deep breath. Curiously enough, it was a
+relief to her to hear it. Such great self-restraint was almost
+unnatural.
+
+"You only did your duty, Mr. Thurwell," he answered quietly. "You owe me
+no apology."
+
+"I am very glad that you see it in that light," Mr. Thurwell said, "very
+glad indeed. But I have a further confession to make."
+
+He drew Mr. Brown a little on one side, out of hearing of the others,
+but nearer to her than any of them, and commenced talking earnestly to
+him. This time she could tell that he was disturbed and uneasy, but she
+could not follow connectedly all her father said. Only a few stray words
+reached her.
+
+"Very sorry indeed.... Quite accidental.... Will preserve ...
+discovery."
+
+"Then I may rely upon you to keep this absolutely to yourself?" she
+heard Mr. Brown say earnestly.
+
+"I give you my word, sir!" her father answered. Then they turned round,
+and she saw that Mr. Brown looked distinctly annoyed.
+
+"However did you come here, Helen?" her father asked, suddenly
+remembering her presence.
+
+"I came for a walk, and met Mr. Brown in the plantation," she explained.
+
+"Well, since you are here," he remarked good humoredly, "you must help
+me to induce Mr. Brown to come back to the Court. So far, we have been
+wretched neighbors. We shall insist upon his dining with us, just to
+show that there's no ill-feeling," he added, smiling. "Now, no excuses."
+
+"Thank you, but I never go out," Mr. Brown answered. "I have not even
+any clothes here. So----"
+
+"Please come, Mr. Brown," she said softly.
+
+He flashed a sudden glance at her from his dark eyes, which brought the
+color streaming into her cheeks. Fortunately, twilight was commencing to
+fall, and she was standing a little back in the shadow of the
+plantation.
+
+"If Miss Thurwell wishes it," he said, in a tone of a man who offers
+himself to lead a forlorn hope, "it is settled. I will come."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+MR. BROWN DINES AT THE COURT
+
+
+Both to him and to her there was something strangely unreal in the
+little banquet to which they three--Mr. Thurwell, his daughter, and his
+tenant--sat down that evening. For many months afterwards, until,
+indeed, after the culmination of the tragedy in which she was the
+principal moving figure, Helen Thurwell looked back upon that night with
+strangely mingled feelings. It was the dawn of a new era in her
+existence, a fact which she never doubted, although she struggled vainly
+against it. And to him it was like a sudden transition into fairyland.
+The long years of lonely life and rigorous asceticism through which he
+had passed had been a period of no ordinary self-denial. Instinctively
+and with his whole nature the man was an artist. His homely fare,
+ill-cooked and ill-served among dreary surroundings, had for long been a
+horror to him. Whatever his reasons for such absolute isolation had
+been, they had sprung from no actual delight in rough living or
+non-appreciation of the refinements of civilized society. He realized to
+the full extent the sybaritic pleasures which now surrounded him. The
+white tablecloth flaming with daintily modeled plate and cut glass, the
+brilliant coloring of the scarlet and yellow flowers, the aromatic
+perfume of the chrysanthemums mingling with the faint scent of exotics,
+the luscious fruits, and the softly shaded table lights which threw a
+rich glow over the lovely face opposite to him--all these things had
+their own peculiar effect in the shape of a certain subtle exhilaration
+which was not slow to show itself. With scarcely an effort he threw off
+the old mask of reserve, with all the little awkwardnesses and
+gaucheries which it had entailed, and appeared as the shadow of the self
+of former days--a cultured, polished man of the world. Even Mr.
+Thurwell's good breeding was scarcely sufficient to conceal his surprise
+at the metamorphosis. Never before, at his table, had there been such a
+brilliant flow of conversation--conversation which had all the rare art
+of appearing general, whereas it was indeed nothing less than a
+monologue on the part of this strange guest. He had traveled far, he had
+seen great things in many countries, and he had known great men; and he
+talked lightly about them all, with the keen appreciation of the artist,
+and the graceful diction of the scholar. He was a man who had lived in
+the world--every little action and turn of speech denoted it. The French
+dishes--Mr. Thurwell was proud of his chef--were no secret to him, and
+he knew all about the vintages of the wines he was drinking. In the
+whole course of his experience, Mr. Thurwell had never entertained such
+a guest as this, and it was a sore trial to his good manners to abstain
+from any astonished comment on the lonely life his tenant had been
+lately leading.
+
+And Helen sat listening to it all with a sort of dreamy content stealing
+over her, out of which she was stirred every now and then into
+enthusiasm by some brilliant criticism or fresh turn to the
+conversation. At such times her gray luminous eyes, with their strange
+dash of foreign color, would light up and flash their sympathetic
+approval across the few feet of tablecloth blazing with many-colored
+flowers and fruits and glittering silver. And he grew to look for this,
+and to receive it with an answering glance from his own dark eyes, full
+of a strange light and power. She, watching him more keenly than her
+father could, was conscious of something that altogether escaped him, a
+sort of undercurrent of suppressed excitement which never rose to the
+surface, and revealed itself in none of his mannerisms or his tone. But
+it was there, and she felt it--felt it more than ever when their eyes
+met, and hers were forced to droop before the steady fire in his, which
+more than once brought the faint color into her cheeks, and sent a new
+sensation quivering through her being.
+
+Dinner came to an end at last, but when she rose to go her father
+protested. She generally sat with him while he smoked a cigarette and
+drank his coffee. Why should she go away now? They were making no
+stranger of Mr. Brown. And so she stayed.
+
+Presently she found herself strolling round the room by his side,
+showing him the pictures which hung lightly upon the high oak panels,
+and the foreign bric-à-brac and Italian vases ranged along the wide
+black ledge a little below. Her father had been obliged to go out and
+speak to the head gamekeeper about some suspected poaching, and they
+were alone.
+
+"This is where I like to sit after dinner, when we are alone," she said;
+and, lifting some heavy drooping curtains, she led him into a quaint
+recess, almost as large as an ordinary room. A shaded lamp was burning
+on a small Burmese table, and the faint fragrance of burning pine logs
+stole up from the open hearth and floated about on the air, already
+slightly perfumed with the odor of chrysanthemums clustered together in
+quaint blue china bowls, little patches of gold-and-white coloring,
+where everything else was somber and subdued. She sank into a low basket
+chair before the fire, and, obeying her gesture, he seated himself
+opposite to her.
+
+"Now, talk to me, please," she said, half hiding her face with a feather
+screen to protect it from the fire. "No commonplacisms, mind! I have
+heard nothing else all my life, and I am weary of them. And, first,
+please to light a cigarette. You will find some in the silver box by
+your side. I like the perfume."
+
+He did as he was bidden in silence. For a moment he watched the faint
+blue smoke curl upward, stole a glance around him, and drew a long
+breath as though he were drinking in to the full the artistic content of
+the exquisite harmony and coloring, of his surroundings. Then he threw a
+sudden, swift look upon the beautiful girl who was leaning back in her
+low chair, with her fair head resting upon a cushion of deep olive
+green, and her eyes fixed expectantly upon him. She was so near that, by
+stretching out his hand, he could have seized her small shapely fingers;
+so near, that he could even detect the delicate scent of lavender from
+the lace of her black dinner gown. He took in every detail of her dainty
+toilette from the single diamond which sparkled in the black velvet
+around her throat, to the exquisitely slippered feet resting lightly
+upon a tiny sage-green footstool, and just visible through the
+gossamerlike draperies which bordered her skirts. In the world of her
+sex she had become an era to him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE TRAGEDY OF RACHEL KYNASTON.
+
+
+"I wonder whether you know that we have met before, Miss Thurwell?" he
+asked her suddenly.
+
+She moved her screen and looked at him.
+
+"Surely not! Where?"
+
+In a few words he reminded her of that quaint street in the old Italian
+town, and of the half-ruined Palazzo di Vechi. He had seen her only for
+a few minutes, but her face had never been forgotten; the way in which
+he told her so, although he did not dwell upon it, told her also that it
+had been no ordinary memory--that it had held a separate place in his
+thoughts, as was indeed the case. Something in the manner of his
+allusion to it showed her too, as though he had laid his whole mind
+bare, with what interest, almost reverence, he had guarded it, and all
+that it had meant to him; and as she listened a faint color stole into
+her cheeks, with which the fire had nothing to do. She held her screen
+the closer, and bent her head lest he should see it.
+
+But there was no fear of that; indeed, he had no thought of the kind.
+Leaving the dangerous ground behind him, he glided easily and naturally
+into impersonal subjects. From Italy he began to talk of Florence, of
+Pico della Mirandola, and the painters of the Renaissance. He strove his
+utmost to interest her, and with his vast stock of acquired knowledge,
+and his wonderfully artistic felicity of expression, he talked on and
+on, wandering from country to country, and age to age, till it all
+seemed to her like a strangely beautiful poem, full of yellow light and
+gleaming shadow, sometimes passionate and intense, at others fantastic
+and almost ethereal. Now and then she half closed her eyes, and his
+words, and their meaning, the form and the substance, seemed to come to
+her like richly blended music, stirring all her senses and quickening
+all her dormant faculties. Then she opened them again, and looked
+steadily upon the dark, wan face, with its sharp thin outline and
+strange poetic abstraction. By chance he spoke for a moment of De
+Quincey, and a shudder passed through all her being. Could such a face
+as that be a murderer's face? The utter morbidness of such a thought
+oppressed her only for a moment. If to-morrow it was to be her duty to
+loathe this man, then it should be so; but those few minutes were too
+precious to be disturbed by such thoughts. A new life was stirring
+within her, and its first breath was too sweet to be crushed on the
+threshold. After to-night--anything! But to-night she would have for her
+own.
+
+And so the time passed on, and the evening slipped away. Mr. Thurwell
+had looked in, but seeing them so engrossed he had quietly retreated and
+indulged in his usual nap. A dainty tea equipage had been brought in,
+and she had roused herself to prepare it with her own hands, and it
+seemed to him that this little touch of domesticity had been the one
+thing wanted to make the picture perfect. There had been a momentary
+silence then, and she had found herself asking him questions.
+
+"Do you never feel that you would like to be back in the world again?"
+she asked. "Yours is a very lonely life!"
+
+"I do not often find it so," he answered, with his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. "One's books, and the thoughts one gets from them, are sufficient
+companions."
+
+"But they are not human ones, and man is human. Do you think a lonely
+life quite healthy--mentally healthy, I mean?"
+
+"It should be the healthiest of all lives. It is only in theory that
+solitude is morbid. If you knew more of the world, Miss Thurwell, you
+would understand something of its cramping influence upon all
+independent thought. I am not a pessimist--at least, I try not to be. I
+do not wish to say that there is more badness than goodness in the
+world, but there is certainly more littleness than greatness. To live in
+any manner of society without imbibing a certain form of selfishness is
+difficult; to do so and to taste the full sweetness of the life that
+never dies is impossible!"
+
+"But there must be some exceptions!" she said hesitatingly. "If people
+care for one another, and care for the same things----"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"People never do care for one another. Life is so full nowadays, there
+are so many things to care about, that any concentration of the
+affections is impossible. Love is the derision of the modern world. It
+has not even the respect one pays to the antique."
+
+For several minutes there was deep silence. A piece of burning wood
+tumbled off from the log and fell upon the tiles, where it lay with its
+delicate blue smoke curling upward into the room, laden with the pungent
+odor of the pine. She moved her feet, and there was the slight rustling
+of her skirts. No other sound broke the stillness which they both
+remembered for long afterwards--the stillness before the storm.
+
+Suddenly it came to an end. There was a sound of doors being quickly
+opened and shut, voices in the hall, and then a light, firm tread,
+crossing the main portion of the room. They both glanced toward the
+curtains, and there was a second's expectancy. Then they were thrown on
+one side with a hasty movement, and a tall dark woman in a long
+traveling cloak swept through them.
+
+She paused for a moment on the threshold, and her flashing black eyes
+seemed to take in every detail of the little scene. She saw Helen, fair
+and comely, with an added beauty in her soft, animated expression, and
+she saw her companion, his face alight with intelligence and
+sensibility, and with the glow of a new life in his brilliant eyes. The
+perfume of the Egyptian tobacco which hung about the room, the tea tray,
+their two chairs drawn up before the fire--nothing escaped her. It all
+seemed to increase her wrath.
+
+For she was very angry. Her form was dilated with passion, and her
+voice, when she spoke, shook with it. But it was not her anger, nor her
+threatening gestures, before which they both shrank back for a moment,
+appalled. It was her awful likeness to the murdered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston.
+
+"Helen!" she cried, "they told me of this; but if I had not seen it with
+my own eyes, I would never have believed it."
+
+Helen rose to her feet, pale, but with a kindling light in her eyes, and
+a haughty poise of her fair shapely head.
+
+"You speak in riddles, Rachel," she said quietly. "I do not understand
+you."
+
+A very storm of hysterical passion seemed to shake the woman, who had
+approached a little further into the room.
+
+"Not understand me! Listen, and I will make it plain. You were engaged
+to marry my brother. I come here, almost from his funeral, and I find
+you thus--with his murderer! Girl, I wonder that you do not die of
+shame!"
+
+His murderer! For a moment the color fled from cheeks and lips, and the
+room seemed whirling around her. But one glance at him brought back her
+drooping courage. He was standing close to her side, erect and firm as a
+statue, with his head thrown back, and his eyes fixed upon Rachel
+Kynaston. Blanched and colorless as his face was, there was no flinching
+in it.
+
+"It is false!" she said proudly. "Ask him yourself."
+
+"Ask him!" She turned upon him like a tigress, her eyes blazing with
+fury. "Let him hear what I have to say, and deny it. Is it not you who
+followed him from city to city all over the world, seeking always his
+life? Is it not you who kept him for many years from his native land for
+fear of blood-shed--yours or his? Is it not you who have fought with him
+and been worsted, and sworn to carry your enmity with you through life,
+and bury it only in his grave? Look at me, man, if you dare, look me in
+the face and tell me whether you did not seek his life in Vienna, and
+whether you did not fight with him on the sands at Boulogne. Oh, I know
+you! It is you! It is you! And then you come down here and live alone,
+waiting your chance. He is found foully murdered, and you are the only
+man who could have done it. Ask you whether you be guilty? There is no
+need, no need. Can anyone in their senses, knowing the story of your
+past hate, doubt it for one moment? And yet, answer me if you can. Look
+me in the face, and let me hear you lie, if you dare. Tell me that you
+know nothing of my brother's death!"
+
+He had stood like marble, with never a change in his face, while she had
+poured out her passionate accusation. But when silence came, and she
+waited for him to speak, he could not. A seal seemed set upon his lips.
+He could not open them. He was silent.
+
+A fearful glare of triumph blazed up in her eyes. She staggered back a
+little, and leaned upon the table, with her hand clasped to her side.
+
+"See, Helen," she cried, "is that innocence? O God! give me strength to
+go on. I will see Mr. Thurwell. I will tell him everything. He shall
+sign a warrant. Ah!"
+
+A terrible scream rang through the room, and echoed through the house.
+Mr. Thurwell and several of the servants came hurrying in. In the middle
+of the floor Rachel Kynaston lay prostrate, her fingers grasping
+convulsively at the empty air, and an awful look in her face. Helen was
+on her knees by her side, and Mr. Brown stood in the background,
+irresolute whether to stay or leave.
+
+They crowded round her, but she waved them off, and grasping Helen's
+wrist, dragged her down till their heads nearly touched.
+
+"Helen," she moaned, "I am dying. Swear to me that you will avenge
+Geoffrey's murder. That man did it. His name--his name----"
+
+Suddenly her grasp relaxed, and Helen reeled back fainting into her
+father's arms.
+
+"It is a fit," some one murmured.
+
+But it was death.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+LEVY & SON, PRIVATE AGENTS
+
+
+"Anything in the letters, guv'nor?"
+
+"Nothing so far, Ben, my boy," answered a little old gentleman, who was
+methodically opening a pile of envelopes, and carefully scrutinizing the
+contents of each before arranging them in separate heaps. "Nothing much
+yet. A letter from a despairing mother, entreating us to find her lost
+son. Description given, payment--tick! Won't do. Here's a note from Mr.
+Wallis about his wife's being at the theater the other night, and a line
+from Jack Simpson about that woman down St. John's Wood way. Seems he's
+found her, so that's off."
+
+"Humph! business is slack," remarked a younger edition of the old
+gentleman, who was standing on the hearth rug, with his silk hat on the
+back of his head, in an attitude of unstudied grace.
+
+"Say, guv'nor, you couldn't let me have a fiver, could you? Must keep up
+the credit of the firm, don't you know, and I'm awfully hard up. 'Pon my
+word, I am."
+
+"I couldn't do anything of the sort!" exclaimed the old gentleman
+testily. "Certainly not. The way you spend money is grievous to me,
+Benjamin, positively grievous!"
+
+He turned round in his chair, and with his spectacles on the top of his
+head surveyed his son and heir with a sorrowful interest.
+
+"Oh, hang it all, some one must spend the money if we're to keep the
+business at all!" retorted Mr. Benjamin testily. "I can't live as I do
+without it, you know; and how are we to get the information we want?
+Look at the company I keep, too."
+
+The old gentleman seemed mollified.
+
+"There's something in that, Ben," he remarked, slowly wagging his head.
+"There's something in that, of course. Bless me, your mother was telling
+me you was with a lord the other day!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin expanded a little with the recollection, and smiled gently.
+
+"That was quite true, dad," he remarked with a grandiloquent air. "I was
+just going into the Cri--let me see, on Tuesday night it was--when whom
+should I run up against but little Tommy Soampton with a pal, and we all
+had drinks together. He was a quiet-looking chap, not dressed half so
+well as--er----"
+
+"As you, Ben," interposed his father proudly.
+
+"Well, I wasn't thinking of myself particularly," Mr. Benjamin
+continued, twirling an incipient mustache, and looking pleased. "But
+when Tommy introduced him as Lord Mossford, I was that surprised I
+nearly dropped my glass."
+
+"What did you say to him, Ben?" asked the little old gentleman in an
+awed tone.
+
+Ben drew himself up and smiled.
+
+"I asked him how his lordship was, and whether his lordship'd take
+anything."
+
+"And did he, Ben?" asked his father eagerly.
+
+"Rather! He was just as affable as you like. I got on with him no end."
+
+The little old gentleman turned away to his letters again to hide a
+gratified smile.
+
+"Well, well, Ben, I suppose you must have it," he said leniently. "Young
+men will be young men. Only remember this, my boy--wherever you are,
+always keep an eye open for business. Never forget that."
+
+Benjamin, junior, slapped his trousers pocket and grinned.
+
+"No fear, dad. I don't forget the biz."
+
+"Well, well; just wait till I've gone through the letters, and we'll see
+what we can do. We'll see. Ha! this reads well. I like this. Ben, we're
+in luck this morning. In luck, my boy!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin abandoned his negligent attitude, and, drawing close to his
+father, peered over his shoulder. The letter which lay upon the desk was
+not a long one, but it was to the point.
+
+     "THURWELL COURT,
+     "_Thursday_.
+
+     "DEAR SIRS,
+
+     "I am recommended to consult your firm on a matter which requires
+     the services of a skilled detective and the utmost secrecy. I am
+     coming to London to-morrow, and will call at your office at about
+     half-past ten. Please arrange to be in at that time.
+
+    "Yours truly,
+    "HELEN THURWELL.
+
+    "To Messrs. Levy & Son,
+    "Private Agents,
+    ---- Street, Strand, London."
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, drew his hand meditatively down the lower part of his
+face once or twice, and looked up at his son.
+
+"Something in it, I think, Benjamin, eh? Thurwell Court! Coat of Arms!
+Lady signs herself Miss Thurwell! Money there, eh?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin was looking thoughtfully down at the signature.
+
+"Thurwell, Thurwell! Where the mischief have I heard that name lately.
+Holy Moses! I know," he suddenly exclaimed, starting up with glistening
+eyes. "Dad, our fortune's made. Our chance has come at last!"
+
+In the exuberance of his spirits he forgot the infirmities of age, and
+brought his hand down upon his father's back with such vehemence that
+the tears started into the little old gentleman's eyes, and his
+spectacles rattled upon his nose.
+
+"Don't do that again, Benjamin," he exclaimed nervously. "I don't like
+it; I don't like it at all. You nearly dislocated my shoulder, and if
+you had, I'd have stopped the doctor's bill out of your allowance. I
+would, indeed! And now, what have you got to say?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin had been walking up and down the office with his hands in
+his trousers' pockets whistling softly to himself. At the conclusion of
+his father's complaint he came to a standstill.
+
+"All right, guv'nor. Sorry I hurt you. I was a bit excited. Don't you
+remember having heard that name Thurwell lately?"
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, shook his head doubtfully.
+
+"I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be, Benjamin. The name
+sounds a bit familiar, and yet--no, I can't remember," he wound up
+suddenly. "Tell me about it, my boy."
+
+"Why, the Kynaston murder, of course. That was at Thurwell Court. Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston was engaged to Miss Thurwell, you know, and she was
+one of the first to find him."
+
+"Dear me! Dear me! I remember all about it now, to be sure," Mr. Levy
+exclaimed. "The murderer was never found, was he? Got clean off?"
+
+"That's so," assented Mr. Benjamin. "Dad, it's a rum thing, but I was
+interested in that case. There was something queer about it. I read it
+every bit. I could stand a cross-examination in it now. Dad, it's a
+lucky thing. She's coming here to consult us about it, as sure as my
+name is Ben Levy. And, by jabers, here she is!"
+
+There was the sound of a cab stopping at the door, and through a chink
+in the blinds Mr. Benjamin had seen a lady descend from it. In a moment
+his hat was off and on the peg, and he commenced writing a letter at the
+desk.
+
+"Dad," he said quickly, without looking up, "leave this matter to me,
+will you? I'm up in the case. A lady, did you say, Morrison?"--turning
+toward the door. "Very good. Show her in at once."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+A JEWEL OF A SON
+
+
+For the first time in her life Helen was taking a definite and important
+step without her father's knowledge. The matter was one which had caused
+her infinite thought and many heart searchings. The burden of Rachel
+Kynaston's dying words had fallen upon her alone. There seemed to be no
+escape from it. She must act, and must act for herself. Any sort of
+appeal to her father for help was out of the question. She knew
+beforehand exactly what his view of the matter would be. In all things
+concerning her sex he was of that ancient school which reckoned
+helplessness and inaction the chief and necessary qualities of women
+outside the domestic circle. He might himself have made some move in the
+matter, but it would have been half hearted and under protest. She knew
+exactly what his point of view would be. Rachel Kynaston had been
+excited by a fancied wrong--her last words were uttered in a veritable
+delirium! She could not part with the responsibility. The shadow of it
+lay upon her, and her alone. She must act herself or not at all. She
+must act herself, and without her father's knowledge, or be false to the
+charge laid upon her by a dying woman. So with a heavy heart she had
+accepted what seemed to her to be the inevitable.
+
+She was shown at once into the inner sanctuary of Messrs. Levy & Son.
+Her first glance around, nervous though she was, was comprehensive. She
+saw a plainly but not ill-furnished office, the chief feature of which
+was its gloom. Seated in an easy chair was a little old gentleman with
+white hair, who rose to receive her, and a little farther away was a
+younger man who was writing busily, and who did not even glance up at
+her entrance. Although it was not a particularly dark morning, the
+narrowness of the street and the small dusty windows seemed effectually
+to keep out the light, and a jet of gas was burning.
+
+Mr. Levy bowed to his visitor, and offered her a chair.
+
+"Miss Thurwell, I presume," he said in his best manner.
+
+The lady bowed without lifting her veil, which, though short, was a
+thick one.
+
+"We received a letter from you this morning," he continued.
+
+"Yes; I have called about it."
+
+She hesitated. The commencement was very difficult. After all, had she
+done wisely in coming here? Was it not all a mistake? Had she not better
+leave the thing to the proper authorities, and content herself with
+offering a reward? She had half a mind to declare that her visit was an
+error, and make her escape.
+
+It was at this point that the tact of the junior member of the firm
+asserted itself. Quietly laying down his pen, he turned toward her, and
+spoke for the first time.
+
+"We gathered from your letter, Miss Thurwell, that you desired to
+consult us concerning the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."
+
+Helen was surprised into assenting, and before she could qualify her
+words, Mr. Benjamin had taken the case in hand.
+
+"Exactly. Now, Miss Thurwell, we have had some very delicate and very
+difficult business confided to us at different times, and I may say,
+without boasting, that we have been remarkably successful. I may so,
+father, may I not?"
+
+"Most decidedly, Benjamin. There was Mr. Morris's jewels, you know."
+
+"And Mr. Hadson's son."
+
+"And that little affair with Captain Trescott and Bella B----"
+
+Mr. Benjamin dropped the ruler, which he had been idly balancing on his
+forefinger, with a crash, and shot a warning glance across at his
+father.
+
+"Miss Thurwell will not be interested in the details of our business,"
+he remarked. "Our reputation is doubtless known to her."
+
+Considering what the reputation of Messrs. Levy & Son really was, this
+last remark was a magnificent piece of cool impudence. Even Mr. Levy
+could not refrain from casting a quick glance of admiration at his
+junior, who remained perfectly unmoved.
+
+"What I was about to remark, Miss Thurwell, was simply this. The chief
+cause of our success has been that we have induced our clients at the
+outset to give us their whole confidence. We lay great stress on this.
+Everything that we are told in the way of business we consider
+absolutely secret. But we like to know everything."
+
+"I shall keep nothing back from you," she said quietly. "I have nothing
+to conceal."
+
+Mr. Benjamin nodded approval.
+
+"Then, in order that the confidence between us may be complete, let me
+ask you this question, Why have you brought this matter to us, instead
+of leaving it to the ordinary authorities?"
+
+Helen Thurwell lifted her veil for the first time, and looked at the
+young man who was questioning her. Mr. Benjamin Levy, as a young man of
+fashion, was an ape and a fool. Mr. Benjamin Levy, taking the lead in a
+piece of business after his own heart, was as shrewd a young man as you
+could meet with. Looking him steadily in the face, and noticing his keen
+dark eyes and closely drawn lips, she began for the first time to think
+that, after all, she might have done a wise thing in coming here.
+
+"The ordinary authorities have had the matter in hand two months, and
+they have done nothing," she answered. "I am very anxious that it should
+be cleared up, and I am naturally beginning to lose faith in them. They
+have so many other things to attend to. Now, if I paid you well, I
+suppose you would give your whole time to the matter."
+
+"Undoubtedly," assented Mr. Levy, senior, gravely.
+
+"Undoubtedly," echoed his son. "I am quite satisfied, Miss Thurwell, and
+I thank you for your candor."
+
+"I suppose you will want me to tell you all about it," she said, with a
+faint shudder.
+
+"Not unless you know something fresh. I have every particular in my head
+that has been published."
+
+Helen looked surprised.
+
+"You read all about it, I suppose?" she asked.
+
+"Yes; such things interest us, naturally. This one did me particularly,
+because, from the first, I saw that the police were on the wrong tack."
+
+"What is your idea about it, then?" she asked.
+
+"Simply this," he answered, turning round and facing her for the first
+time. "All the time and trouble spent in scouring the country and
+watching the ports and railway stations was completely wasted. The
+murder was not committed by an outsider at all. The first thing I shall
+want, when we begin to work this, is the name and address of all the
+people living within a mile or two of the scene of the murder, and then
+every possible particular concerning Mr. Bernard Brown, of Falcon's
+Nest."
+
+She could not help a slight start. And from his looking at her now for
+the first time so fixedly, and from the abrupt manner in which he had
+brought out the latter part of his sentence, she knew that he was trying
+her.
+
+"There is one more question, too, Miss Thurwell, which I must ask you,
+and it is a very important one," he continued, still looking at her. "Do
+you suspect any one?"
+
+She answered him without hesitation.
+
+"I do."
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, stirred in his chair, and leaned forward eagerly. Mr.
+Benjamin remained perfectly unmoved.
+
+"And who is it?" he asked.
+
+"Mr. Brown."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked away and made a note. If she could have seen it,
+Helen would certainly have been surprised. For, though her voice was
+low, she had schooled herself to go through her task without agitation.
+Yet, here was the note.
+
+"Query: Connection between Mr. Brown and Miss T. Showed great agitation
+in announcing suspicion."
+
+"Do you mind telling us your reasons?" he went on.
+
+She repeated them after the manner of one who has learned a lesson.
+
+"Mr. Brown came to our part of the country just at the time that Sir
+Geoffrey came from abroad. They had met before, and there was some cause
+of enmity between them----"
+
+"Stop! How do you know that?" Mr. Benjamin interrupted quickly.
+
+She told him of Mr. Brown's admission to her, and of the tragedy of
+Rachel Kynaston's last words. He seemed to know something of this too.
+
+"Any other reason?"
+
+"He seemed agitated when he came out from the cottage, after the crime
+was discovered. From its situation he could easily have committed the
+murder and regained it unseen. It would have been infinitely easier for
+him to have done it than anyone else."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at his father, and his father looked at him.
+
+"Can you tell me anything at all of his antecedents?" he continued.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"We knew nothing about him when he came. He never talked about himself."
+
+"But he was your father's tenant, was he not?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then he gave you some references, I suppose?"
+
+"Only his bankers and his lawyers."
+
+"Do you remember those?"
+
+"Yes. The bankers were Gregsons, and the lawyer's name was Cuthbert."
+
+Mr. Benjamin made a note of both.
+
+"There is nothing more which it occurs to you to tell us, Miss
+Thurwell?" he asked.
+
+"There is one circumstance which seemed to me at the time suspicious,"
+she said slowly. "It was after the body had been carried to Mr. Brown's
+house, and I was waiting for my father there. I think I must have
+suspected Mr. Brown then, in a lesser degree, for I took the opportunity
+of being alone to look into his sitting room. It was rather a mean thing
+to do," she added hurriedly, "but I was a little excited at the notion
+of his guilt, and I felt that I would do anything to help to bring the
+truth to light."
+
+"It was very natural," interposed Mr. Levy, senior, who had been
+watching for some time for the opportunity of getting a word in. "Very
+natural, indeed."
+
+His son took no notice of the interruption, and Helen continued.
+
+"What I saw may be of no consequence, but I will just tell you what it
+was, and what it suggested to me. The window was open, and the leaves of
+a laurel shrub just outside were dripping with wet. A little way in the
+room was an empty basin, and on the floor by the side was a pile of
+books. They might have been there by accident, but it seemed to me as if
+they had been purposely placed there to hide something--possibly a stain
+on the floor. Before I could move any of them to see, I was disturbed."
+
+"By Mr. Brown?"
+
+"By Mr. Brown and Sir Allan Beaumerville."
+
+"Did you gather from his appearance that he was alarmed at finding you
+there?"
+
+Helen shook her head.
+
+"No. He was surprised, certainly, but that was natural. I cannot say
+that he looked alarmed."
+
+Mr. Benjamin put away his notes and turned round on his stool.
+
+"A word or two with regard to the business part of this matter, Miss
+Thurwell. Are you prepared to spend a good deal of money?"
+
+"If it is necessary, yes."
+
+"Very good. Then I will give you a sketch of my plans. We have agents in
+Paris, Vienna, Venice, and other towns, whom I shall at once employ in
+tracing out Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's life abroad, concerning which I
+already have some useful information. During the rest of the day I shall
+make inquiries about Mr. Brown in London. To-morrow I shall be prepared
+to come down to Thurwell in any capacity you suggest."
+
+"If you know anything of auditing," she said, "you can come down and go
+through the books of the estate at the Court. I can arrange that."
+
+"It will do admirably. These are my plans, then. We shall require from
+you, Miss Thurwell, two hundred guineas to send abroad, and forty
+guineas a week for the services of my father and myself and our staff.
+If in twelve months we have not succeeded, we will engage to return you
+twenty-five per cent of this amount. If, on the other hand, we have
+brought home the crime to the murderer, we shall ask you for a further
+five hundred. Will you agree to these terms?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Benjamin stretched out his hand for a piece of writing paper, and
+made a memorandum.
+
+"Perhaps you would be so good as to sign this, then?" he said, passing
+it to her.
+
+She took the pen, and wrote her name at the bottom. Then she rose to go.
+
+"There is nothing more?" she said.
+
+"Nothing except your London address," he reminded her.
+
+"I am staying with my aunt, Lady Thurwell, at No. 8, Cadogan Square."
+
+"Can I call and see you to-morrow morning there?"
+
+She hesitated. After all, why not. She had put her hand to the plow, and
+she must go on with it.
+
+"Yes," she answered; "as the auditor who is going to Thurwell Court."
+
+He bowed, and held the door open for her.
+
+"That is understood, of course. Good morning, Miss Thurwell."
+
+She was standing quite still on the threshold, as if lost in thought for
+a moment. Suddenly she looked up at him with a bright spot of color
+glowing in her cheeks.
+
+"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Levy."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"You have read the account of this--terrible thing, and you have heard
+all I can tell you. Doubtless you have formed some idea concerning it.
+Would you mind telling it to me?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin kept his keen black eyes fixed steadily upon her while he
+answered the question, as though he were curious to see what effect it
+would have on her.
+
+"Certainly, Miss Thurwell. I think that the gentleman calling himself
+Mr. Brown will find himself in the murderer's dock before a month is
+out."
+
+She shuddered slightly, and turned away.
+
+"Thank you. Good morning."
+
+"Good morning, Miss Thurwell."
+
+She was gone, and as the sound of her departing cab became lost in the
+din of the traffic outside, a remarkable change took place in the
+demeanor of Mr. Benjamin Levy. His constrained, almost polished manner
+disappeared. His small, deep-set eyes sparkled with exultation, and all
+his natural vulgarity reasserted itself.
+
+"What do you think of that, guv'nor, eh?" he cried, patting him gently
+on the shoulder. "Good biz, eh?"
+
+"Benjamin, my son," returned the old man, with emotion, "our fortune is
+made. You are a jewel of a son."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A STRANGE MEETING
+
+
+Grayness reigned everywhere--in the sky, on the hillside, and on the
+bare moor, no longer made resplendent by the gleaming beauty of the
+purple heather and fainter flashes of yellow gorse. The dry, springy
+turf had become a swamp, and phantom-like wreaths of mist blurred and
+saddened the landscape. The sweet stirring of the summer wind amongst
+the pine trees had given place to the melancholy drip of raindrops
+falling from their heavy, drooping branches on to the soddened ground.
+Every vestige of coloring had died out of the landscape--from the sea,
+the clouds, and the heath. It was the earth's mourning season, when the
+air has neither the keen freshness of winter, the buoyancy of spring,
+the sweet drowsy languor of summer, or the bracing exhilaration of
+autumn. It was November.
+
+Daylight was fast fading away; but the reign of twilight had not yet
+commenced. After a blustering morning, a sudden stillness had fallen
+upon the earth. The wild north wind had ceased its moaning in the pine
+trees, and no longer came booming across the level moorland. The dull
+gray clouds which all day long had been driven across the leaden sky in
+flying haste, hung low down upon the sad earth, and from over the water
+a sea fog rose to meet them. Nature had nothing more cheerful to offer
+than silence, a dim light, and indescribable desolation.
+
+A solitary man, with his figure carved out in sharp relief against the
+vaporous sky, stood on the highest point of the cliff. Everything in his
+attitude betokened the deepest dejection--in which at least he was in
+sympathy with his surroundings. His head drooped upon his bent
+shoulders, and his dark, weary eyes were fixed upon the rising sea fog
+in a vacant gaze. Warmly clad as he was, he seemed chilled through his
+whole being by the raw lifelessness of the air. Yet he did not move.
+
+The utter silence was suddenly broken by the rising of a little flock of
+gulls from among the stunted firs hanging down over the cliff. Almost
+immediately afterwards there came another sound, denoting the advance of
+a human being. The little hand gate leading out of the plantation was
+opened and shut, and light footsteps began to ascend the ridge of the
+cliffs on which he was standing, hesitating now and then, but always
+advancing. As soon as he became sure of this, he turned his head in the
+direction from which they came, and found himself face to face with
+Helen Thurwell.
+
+It was the first time they had come together since the terrible night at
+Thurwell Court, when their eyes had met for an awful moment over the
+dead body of Rachel Kynaston. The memory of that scene flashed into the
+minds of both of them; from hers, indeed, it had seldom been absent. She
+stood face to face with the man whom she had been charged, by the
+passionate prayers of a dying woman, to hunt down and denounce as a
+murderer. They looked at one another with the same thoughts in the minds
+of both. The first step she had already taken. Henceforth he would be
+watched and dogged, his past life raked up, and his every action
+recorded. And she it was who had set the underhand machinery at work,
+she it was whom he, guilty or innocent, would think of as the woman who
+had hunted him down. If he should be innocent, and the time should come
+when he discovered all, what would he think of her? If he could have
+seen her a few days back in the office of Messrs. Levy & Son, would he
+look at her as he was doing now? The thought sent a shiver through her.
+At that moment she hated herself.
+
+It was no ordinary meeting this, for him or for her. Had she been able
+to look him steadily in the face, she might have seen something of her
+own nervousness reflected there. But that was just what at first she was
+unable to do. One rapid glance into his pale features, which suffering
+and intellectual labor seemed in some measure to have etherealized, was
+sufficient. She had all the poignant sense of a culprit before an
+injured but merciful judge, and at that moment the memory of those dying
+words was faint within her. And so, though it is not usually the case,
+it was he who appeared the least disturbed, and he it was who broke that
+strange silence which had lasted several moments after she had come to a
+standstill before him.
+
+"You do not mind speaking to me, Miss Thurwell?"
+
+"No; I do not mind," she answered in a low, hesitating tone.
+
+"Then may I take it that Miss Kynaston's words have not--damaged me in
+your esteem?" he went on, his voice quivering a little with suppressed
+anxiety. "You do not--believe--that----"
+
+"I neither believe nor disbelieve!" she interrupted. "Remember that you
+had an opportunity of denying it which you did not accept!"
+
+"That is true!" he answered slowly. "Let it remain like that, then. It
+is best."
+
+She had turned a little away as though to watch a screaming curlew fly
+low down and vanish in the fog. From where he stood on slightly higher
+ground he looked down at her curiously, for in more than one sense she
+was a puzzle to him. There was a certain indefiniteness in her manner
+toward him which he felt a passionate desire to construe. She seemed at
+once merciful and merciless, sympathetic and hard. Then, as he looked at
+her, he almost forgot all this wilderness of suffering and doubt. All
+his intense love for physical beauty, ministered to by the whole manner
+of his life, seemed rekindled in her presence. The tragedy of the
+present seemed to pass away into the background. From the moment when he
+had first caught a glimpse of her in the courtyard of the Palazzo Vechi,
+he had chosen her face and presence with which to endow his artist's
+ideal--and, since that time, what change there had been in her had been
+for the better. The animal spirits of light-hearted girlhood had become
+toned down into the more refined and delicate softness of thoughtful
+womanhood. In her thin supple figure there was still just the suspicion
+of incomplete development, which is in itself a fascination; and her
+country attire, the well-cut brown tweed ulster, the cloth cap from
+beneath which many little waves of fair silky hair had escaped, the trim
+gloves and short skirts--the most insignificant article of her
+attire--all seemed to bespeak that peculiar and subtle daintiness which
+is at the same time the sweetest and the hardest to define of nature's
+gifts to women.
+
+Even in the most acute crisis, woman's care for the physical welfare of
+man seems almost an instinct with her. Suddenly turning round, she saw
+how ill-protected he was against the weather, and a look of concern
+stole into her face.
+
+"How ridiculous of you to come out without an overcoat or anything on
+such a day as this!" she exclaimed. "Why, you must be wet through!--and
+how cold you look!"
+
+He smiled grimly. That she should think of such a thing just at that
+moment, seemed to him to be a peculiar satire upon what had been passing
+through his mind concerning her. Then a sudden thrill shook every limb
+in his body--his very pulses quickened. She had laid her gloved hand
+upon his arm, and, having withdrawn it, was regarding it ruefully. It
+was stained with wet.
+
+"You must go home at once!" she said, with a decision in her tone which
+was almost suggestive of authority. "You must change all your things,
+and get before a warm fire. Come, I will walk with you as far as
+Falcon's Nest. I am going round that way, and home by the footpath."
+
+They started off side by side. The first emotion of their meeting having
+passed away, he found it easier to talk to her, and he did so in an odd
+monosyllabic way which she yet found interesting. All her life she had
+been somewhat peculiarly situated with regard to companionship. Her
+father, having once taken her abroad and once to London for the season,
+considered that he had done his duty to her, and having himself long ago
+settled down to the life of a country squire, had expected her to be
+content with her position as his daughter and the mistress of his
+establishment. There was nothing particularly revolting to her in the
+prospect. She was not by any means emancipated. The "new woman" would
+have been a horror to her. But, unfortunately, although she was content
+to accept a comparatively narrow view of life, she was slightly
+epicurean in her tastes. She would have been quite willing to give up
+her life to a round of such pleasures as society and wealth can procure,
+but the society must be good and entertaining, and its pleasures must be
+refined and free from monotony. In some parts of England she might have
+found what would have satisfied her, and under the influence of a
+pleasure-seeking life, she would in due course have become the woman of
+a type. As she grew older the horizon of her life would have become more
+limited and her ideas narrower. She would have lived without tasting
+either the full sweetness or the full bitterness of life. She would have
+filled her place in society admirably, and there would have been nothing
+to distinguish her either for better or worse from other women in a
+similar position. But it happened that round Thurwell Court the people
+were singularly uninteresting. The girls were dull, and the men bucolic.
+Before she had spent two years in the country, Helen was intensely
+bored. A sort of chronic languor seemed to creep over her, and in a fit
+of desperation she had permitted herself to become engaged to Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, for the simple reason that he was different from the
+other men. Then, just as she was beginning to tremble at the idea of
+marriage with a man for whom she had never felt a single spark of love,
+there had come this tragedy, and, following close upon it, the vague
+consciousness of an utter change hovering over her life. What that
+change meant she was slow to discover. She was still unconscious of it
+as she walked over the cliffs with the grey mists hanging around them,
+side by side with her father's tenant. She knew that life had somehow
+become a fairer thing to her, and that for many years she had been
+living in darkness. And it was her companion, this mysterious stranger
+with his wan young face and sad thoughtful eyes, who had brought the
+light. She could see it flashing across the whole landscape of her
+future, revealing the promise of a larger life than any she had ever
+dreamed of, full of brilliant possibilities and more perfect happiness
+than any she had ever imagined. She told herself that he was the
+Columbus who had shown her the new land of culture, with all its fair
+places, intellectual and artistic. This was the whole meaning of the
+change in her. There could be nothing else.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HELEN THURWELL ASKS A DIRECT QUESTION
+
+
+At the summit of the little spur of cliff they paused. Close on one side
+were the windows of Falcon's Nest, and on the other the batch of black
+firs which formed the background to it ran down the steep cliff side to
+the sea. The path which they were following curved round the cottage,
+and crossed the moor within a few yards of the spot where Sir Geoffrey
+had been found. As they stood together for a moment before parting, she
+noticed, with a sudden cold dismay, that thick shutters had recently
+been fitted to the windows of the little room into which she had stolen
+on the day of Sir Geoffrey's murder.
+
+"Are you afraid of being robbed?" she asked. "One would imagine that
+your room there held a secret."
+
+She was watching him, and she told herself the shot had gone to its
+mark.
+
+He followed her finger with his eyes, and kept his face turned away from
+her.
+
+"Yes, that is so," he answered quietly. "That little room holds its
+secret and its ghost for me. Would to God," he cried, with a sudden
+passion trembling in his tones, "that I had never seen it--that I had
+never come here!"
+
+Her heart beat fast. Could it be that he was going to confess to her?
+Then he turned suddenly round, and in the twilight his white face and
+dark luminous eyes seemed to her like mute emblems of an anguish which
+moved her woman's heart to pity. There was none of the cowardice of
+guilt there, nothing of the criminal in the deep melancholy which seemed
+to have set its mark upon his whole being. And yet he must be very
+guilty--very much a criminal.
+
+Her eyes strayed from his face back to the window again. There was no
+light anywhere in the house. It had a cold desolate look which chilled
+her.
+
+"Is that the room where you sit?" she asked, pointing to it.
+
+"Yes. There is no other furnished, except my housekeeper's, and she is
+away now."
+
+"Away! Then who is with you in the house?"
+
+"At present, no one," he answered. "She was taken ill, and went home
+this morning. She is generally ill."
+
+She looked at him perplexed.
+
+"But who does your cooking for you, and light the fires, and that sort
+of thing?"
+
+"I haven't thought about it yet," he answered. "I did try to light the
+fire this afternoon, but I couldn't quite manage it. I--I think the
+sticks must have been damp," he added hesitatingly.
+
+She looked at him, wet through and almost blue with cold, and at the
+dull cheerless-looking cottage. Again the woman in her triumphed, and
+her eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I never heard anything so preposterous," she exclaimed almost angrily.
+"You must be out of your senses, Mr. Brown. Now, be so good as to obey
+me at once. Go into the house and get a thick overcoat, the thickest you
+have, and then come home with me, and I will give you some tea."
+
+He hesitated, and stood quite still for a moment, with his face turned
+steadily away from her. All the subtle sweetness of that last visit of
+his to her home had come back to him, and his heart was sick with a
+great longing. Was he not a fool to refuse to enter into paradise, when
+the gates stood open for him? No words could describe the craving which
+he felt to escape, just for a brief while, from the lashings of his
+thoughts and the icy misery of his great loneliness. What though he were
+courting another sorrow! Could his state be worse than it was? Could any
+agony be keener than that which he had already tasted? Were there lower
+depths still in the hell of remorse? If so, he would sound them. Though
+he died for it, he would not deny himself this one taste of heaven. He
+turned suddenly round, with a glow in his eyes which had a strange
+effect upon her.
+
+"You are very good to me, Miss Thurwell," he said. "I will come."
+
+"That is sensible of you," she answered. "Get your coat, and you can
+catch me up. I think we had better go back the same way, as it is
+getting late."
+
+She walked slowly down the path, and he hurried into the cottage. In a
+few minutes he overtook her, wrapped in a long Inverness cape from head
+to foot, and they walked on side by side.
+
+The grey afternoon had suddenly faded into twilight. Overhead several
+stars were already visible, dimly shining through a gauze-like veil of
+mist stretched all over the sky, and from behind a black line of firs on
+the top of a distant hill the moon had slowly risen, and was casting a
+soft weird light upon the saddened landscape. Grey wreaths of
+phantom-like mist were floating away across the moor, and a faint breeze
+had sprung up, and was moaning in the pine plantation when they reached
+the hand-gate. They paused for a moment to listen, and the dull roar of
+the sea from below mingled with it in their ears. She turned away with a
+shudder.
+
+"Come!" she said; "that sound makes me melancholy."
+
+"I like it," he answered. "Nature is an exquisite musician. I never yet
+heard the sea speak in a tone which I did not love to hear. Listen to
+that slow mournful rise of sound, reaching almost to intensity, and then
+dying away so sadly--with the sadness that thrills. Ah! did you hear
+that? The shrieking of those pebbles dragged down to the sea, and crying
+out in almost human agony. I love the sea."
+
+"Is that why you came to this desolate part of the world?" she asked.
+
+"Partly."
+
+"Tell me the whole reason," she said abruptly. "Was there anything
+special which made you fix on this neighborhood? You may think me
+curious, if you like--but I want to know."
+
+"I had a vow to keep," he answered hoarsely. "You must ask me no more. I
+cannot tell you."
+
+Her heart sank like lead. A vow to keep. There was something ominous in
+the sound of those words. She stole a glance at him as they walked on in
+silence, and again her judgments seemed put to confusion and her hopes
+revived. His face, dimly seen in the shadows of the plantation, was
+suddenly illuminated by a pale quivering moonbeam, as they passed
+through a slight opening. Could these be the features of a murderer? Her
+whole heart rebelled against her understanding, and cried out "No!" For
+the first time she realized the æsthetic beauty of his face, scarred and
+wasted though it was by the deep lines of intellectual toil and
+consuming sorrow. There was not a line out of place, save where his
+cheek-bones projected slightly, owing to his extreme thinness, and left
+deep hollows under his eyes. Nor was his expression the expression of a
+guilty man, for, notwithstanding the intense melancholy which dwelt
+always in his dark eyes, and seemed written into every feature, there
+was blended with it a strange pride, the slight yet wholesome contempt
+of a man conscious of a certain superiority in himself, neither physical
+nor in any way connected with material circumstances, over the majority
+of his fellows. And as the realization of this swept in upon her, and
+her faith in him suddenly leaped up with a new-born strength, there came
+with it a passionate desire to hear him proclaim his innocence with his
+own lips, and, having heard it, to banish for ever doubts and
+suspicions, and give herself up to this new sweetness which was hovering
+around her life. She caught hold of his hand, but dropped it almost at
+once, for the fire which flashed into his face at the touch of her
+fingers half frightened her. He had come to a sudden standstill, and
+before his eyes she felt hers droop and the hot color burn her cheeks.
+What had come to her? She could not tell. She was nervous, almost faint,
+with the dawning promise of a bewildering happiness. Yet her desire
+still clung to her, and she found words to express it.
+
+"I cannot bear this any longer," she cried. "I must ask you a question,
+and you must answer it. The thought of it all is driving me mad."
+
+"For God's sake, ask me nothing!" he said in a deep hollow tone. "Let me
+go back. I should not be here with you."
+
+"You shall not go," she answered. "Stand there where the light falls
+upon your face, and answer me. Was it you who killed Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston? Tell me, for I will know."
+
+There was a dead silence, which seemed to her fevered nerves
+intolerable. From all around them came the quiet drip, drip, of the
+rain, from the bending boughs on to the damp soaked ground, and at that
+moment a slight breeze from over the moorland stirred amongst the
+branches, and the moisture which hung upon them descended in little
+showers. From below, the dull roar of the sea came up to them in a
+muffled undertone, like a melancholy background to the slighter sound.
+There was an indescribable dreariness about it all which quickened the
+acute agony of those few moments.
+
+More awful than anything to her was the struggle which she saw in that
+white strained face half hidden in his clasped hands. What could
+hesitation mean but guilt? What need was there for it? Her feet seemed
+turned to stone upon the cold ground, and her heart almost stopped
+beating. There was a film before her eyes, and yet she saw his face
+still, though dimly, and as if it were far off. She saw his hands
+withdrawn, and she saw his ashen lips part slowly.
+
+"I did not kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," he said in a low constrained
+voice. "If my life could have saved his, I would have given it."
+
+A warm golden light seemed suddenly to banish the misty gloom of the
+damp plantation. The color rushed into her cheeks, and her heart leaped
+for joy. She heard, and she believed.
+
+"Thank God!" she cried, holding out both her hands to him with a sudden
+impulsive gesture. "Come! let us go now."
+
+She was smiling softly up at him, and her eyes were wet with tears. He
+took one quick passionate step towards her, seizing her hands, and
+drawing her unresistingly towards him. In a moment she would have been
+in his arms--already a great trembling had seized her, and her will had
+fled. But that moment was not yet.
+
+Something seemed to have turned him to stone. He dropped her fingers as
+though they were burning him. A vacant light eclipsed the passion which
+had shone a moment before in his eyes. Suddenly he raised his hands to
+the sky in a despairing gesture.
+
+"God forgive me!" he cried. "God forgive me!"
+
+For very shame at his touch, and her ready yielding to it, her eyes had
+fallen to the ground. When she raised them he was gone. There was the
+sound of his retreating footsteps, the quick opening and closing of the
+hand-gate, and through the trees she saw him walking swiftly over the
+cliffs. Then she turned away, with her face half hidden in her hands,
+and the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
+
+Again there was silence, only broken by the louder roar of the incoming
+tide, and the faint rustling of the leaves. Suddenly it was broken by a
+human voice, and a human figure slowly arose from a cramped posture
+behind a clump of shrubs.
+
+"Holy Moses! if this ain't a queer start," remarked Mr. Benjamin Levy,
+shaking the wet from his clothes, and slowly filling a pipe. "Wants him
+copped for murder, and yet tries to get him to make up to her. She's a
+deep un, she is. I wonder if she was in earnest! If only she was, I
+think I see my way to a real good thing--a real good thing," he
+repeated, meditatively.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+A LITERARY CELEBRITY
+
+
+It was Tuesday afternoon, and the Countess of Meltoun was at home to the
+world--that is to say, her world. The usual throng of men of fashion,
+guardsmen, literary men, and budding politicians were bending over the
+chairs of their feminine acquaintances, or standing about in little
+groups talking amongst themselves. The clatter of teacups was mingled
+with the soft hum of voices; the pleasantly shaded room was heavy with
+the perfume of many flowers. People said that Lady Meltoun was the only
+woman in London who knew how to keep her rooms cool. It was hard to
+believe that outside the streets and pavements were hot with the
+afternoon sun.
+
+Helen Thurwell, who had come late with her aunt, was sitting on a low
+couch near one of the windows. By her side was Sir Allan Beaumerville,
+and directly in front of her the Earl of Meltoun, with a teacup in his
+hand, was telling her stories of his college days with her father. There
+had been a great change in her during the last six months. Looking
+closely into her face, it seemed as though she had felt the touch of a
+deep sorrow--a sorrow which had left all its refining influences upon
+her without any of the ravages of acute grief. Those few minutes in the
+pine grove by the sea had left their indelible mark upon her life, and
+it was only the stimulating memory of his own words to her concerning
+the weakness of idle yielding to regret, and the abstract beauty of
+sorrow which had been her salvation. They had come back to her in the
+time of her suffering fresh and glowing with truth; she had found a
+peculiar comfort in them, and they had become her religion. Thus she had
+set herself to conquer grief in the highest possible manner--not by
+steeping herself in false excitement, or rushing away for a change of
+scene, but by a deliberate series of intellectual and artistic
+abstractions, out of which she had come, still in a manner sorrowful,
+but with all her higher perceptions quickened and strengthened until the
+consciousness of their evolution, gradually growing within her, gave a
+new power and a new sweetness to her life.
+
+And of this victory she showed some traces in her face, which had indeed
+lost none of its physical beauty, but which had now gained a new
+strength and a new sweetness. She was more admired than ever, but there
+were men who called her difficult--even a little fastidious, and others
+who found her very hard to get on with. The great artist who had just
+taken Sir Allan Beaumerville's place by her side was not one of these.
+
+"I am so glad that you are here to-day, Miss Thurwell," he said, holding
+her grey-gloved hand in his for a moment. "I have been looking for you
+everywhere."
+
+"That is very nice of you," she answered, smiling up at him.
+
+"Ah! but I didn't mean only for my own sake. I know that you like
+meeting interesting people, and to-day there is an opportunity for you."
+
+"Really! and who is it, Mr. Carlyon? How good of you to think of me!"
+
+"You remember telling me how much you admire Maddison's work."
+
+"Why, yes! But he is not here, surely?" she exclaimed. "It cannot be
+he!"
+
+Mr. Carlyon smiled at her sudden enthusiasm. After all, this woman had
+fire. She was too much of the artist to be without it.
+
+"He is not here now, but he will be. I could not believe it myself at
+first, for I know that he is a perfect recluse. But I have just asked
+Lady Meltoun, and there is no doubt about it. It seems that they came
+across him in a lonely part of Spain, and he saved the life of Lady
+Meltoun's only child--a little boy. It is quite a romantic story. He
+promised to come and seem them directly he returned to England, and he
+is expected here to-day."
+
+"I shall like to see him very much," she said thoughtfully. "Lately I
+have been reading him a great deal. It is strange, but the tone of his
+writings seems always to remind me of some one I once knew."
+
+"There is no one of to-day who writes such prose," the artist answered.
+"To me, his work seems to have reached that exquisite blending of matter
+and form which is the essence of all true art."
+
+"All his ideas of culture and the inner life are so simple and yet so
+beautiful."
+
+"And the language with which he clothes them is divine. His work appeals
+everywhere to the purest and most artistic side of our emotional
+natures; and it is always on the same level. It has only one
+fault--there is so little of it."
+
+"Do you know him?" she asked, deeply interested.
+
+"I do. I met him in Pisa some years ago, and, although he is a
+strangely reserved man, we became almost intimate. I am looking forward
+to introducing him to you."
+
+"I shall like it very much," she answered simply.
+
+"Who is the fortunate individual to be so highly favored?" asked a
+pleasant voice close to her side.
+
+"You have returned, then, Sir Allan?" she said, looking up at him with a
+smile. "Have you heard the news? Do you know who is expected?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I have heard nothing," he said. "If I am to have a sensation, it will
+be you who will impart it to me. Don't tell me all at once. I like
+expectancy."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"What an epicure you are, Sir Allan! Come, prepare for something very
+delightful, and I will tell you."
+
+"Is it the prince?" he asked.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"The Mikado in disguise? The Khedive incognito? Mr. Gladstone?"
+
+She shook her head again.
+
+"The sensation will be more delightful than you imagine, evidently.
+There have been many Khedives, and many Mikados, but there can never be
+another Bernard Maddison."
+
+A disturbed shade seemed to fall upon the baronet's face. She followed
+his eyes, riveted upon the door. The hum of conversation had suddenly
+ceased, and every one was looking in the same direction. On the
+threshold stood a tall, gaunt man, gazing in upon the scene before him
+with an expression of distinct aversion, mingled with indifference. He
+was dressed just like the other men, in a long frock coat, and he had a
+white gardenia in his buttonhole. But there was something about him
+distinct and noticeable--something in the quiet easy manner with which
+he at last moved forward to greet his hostess, which seemed to thrill
+her through and through with a sense of sweet familiarity. And then she
+caught a turn of his head as he stooped down over Lady Meltoun's hand,
+and a great wave of bewilderment, mingled with an acute throbbing joy,
+swept in upon her. This man, whom every one was gazing at with such
+eager interest, was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A SNUB FOR A BARONET
+
+
+Those few moments were full of a strange, intense interest to the three
+persons who side by side had watched the entrance of Mr. Bernard
+Maddison. To Helen Thurwell, whose whole being was throbbing with a
+great quickening joy, they were passed in a strenuous effort to struggle
+against the faintness which the shock of this great tumult of feeling
+had brought with it. To the artist, who loved her, they brought their
+own peculiar despair as he watched the light playing upon her features,
+and the new glow of happiness which shone in those sweet, sad eyes. And
+to Sir Allan Beaumerville, who had reasons of his own for surprise at
+this meeting, they brought a distinct sensation of annoyance.
+
+The artist was the first to recover himself. He knew that the battle was
+over for him, that this woman already loved, and that his cause was
+hopeless. And with little of man's ordinary selfishness on such
+occasions, his first thought was for her.
+
+"You would like to change your seat," he whispered. "Come with me into
+the recess yonder. I will show you some engravings."
+
+She flashed a grateful look up at him, and saw that he knew her secret.
+
+"I should like it," she said. "Walk that side of me, please."
+
+They rose and made their way to one of the little screened recesses
+which people--especially young people--said made Lady Meltoun's rooms so
+delightful. He placed a chair for her, and taking up a book of
+engravings buried himself in it.
+
+"Don't speak to me for five minutes, please," he said. "I am looking for
+a design."
+
+At the end of that time he closed the book, and looked up at her. There
+was no fear of her fainting now. She was very pale, but she seemed quite
+calm.
+
+"I am going to speak to Maddison," he said quietly. "Do you--may I bring
+him and introduce him to you?"
+
+She looked up at him with luminous eyes.
+
+"If you please. Don't tell him my name, though."
+
+"It shall be as you wish," he answered.
+
+By moving her chair a few inches she could see into the room. He was
+still standing by Lady Meltoun's side, listening with an absent smile to
+her chatter, and every now and then bowing gravely to the people whom
+she introduced to him. The hum of conversation had been renewed, but
+many curious glances were cast in his direction, of which he seemed
+altogether unconscious. Even had there not been his great fame as a
+critic and a writer, and the romance of his strange manner of life to
+interest people, his personal appearance alone was sufficient to attract
+attention. He was taller by several inches than any man in the room, and
+his thin oval face, refined yet strong and full of a subtle artistic
+sensibility, was in itself a deeply interesting study. How different he
+appeared here in his well-fitting, fashionable clothes, and calm
+distinctive manner, and with just that essence of wearied languor in his
+dark eyes which men of the world can only imitate! He had changed, and
+yet he had not changed, she thought. He was the same, and yet there was
+a difference. Presently she saw Mr. Carlyon reach his side, and the
+greeting which passed between the two men was marked with a certain
+quiet cordiality which bore out Mr. Carlyon's words, that they had once
+been fellow-workers. Watching his opportunity, the artist drew him a
+little on one side, and made his request. Helen drew back trembling with
+expectancy. But a few minutes later Mr. Carlyon came back to her alone.
+
+"I am sorry," he said simply, "but, even to oblige me, Maddison won't
+come. I had no idea he was such a misogynist. He is here, he says, to
+keep a promise, but he wishes for no acquaintances, and he absolutely
+declines to be introduced to any woman, unless it is forced upon him.
+What shall I do? Shall I tell him your name?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"No, don't tell him that," she said. "Do you remember a few lines of
+poetry of his at the end of his last volume of criticisms? There is a
+little clump of firs on the top of a bare wind-swept hill, with the moon
+shining faintly through a veil of mist, and a man and woman standing
+together like carved figures against the sky, listening to the far-off
+murmur of the sea."
+
+"Yes, I remember it," he said slowly.
+
+"Then will you tell him that some one--some one who has seen such a
+place as he describes, is----?"
+
+"I will tell him," Mr. Carlyon answered. "I think that he will come
+now."
+
+He left her again, and went back towards Mr. Maddison. Just as he got
+within speaking distance he saw a slight quiver pass across the white
+face, as though he had recognized some one in the crowd. Mr. Carlyon
+hesitated, and decided to wait for a moment.
+
+They were standing face to face, Sir Allan Beaumerville, the
+distinguished baronet, who had added to the dignity of an ancient family
+and vast wealth, a great reputation as a savant and a _dilettante_
+physician, and Mr. Bernard Maddison, whose name alone was sufficient to
+bespeak his greatness. In Sir Allan's quiet, courteous look, there was a
+slightly puzzled air as though there were something in the other's face
+which he only half remembered. In Mr. Maddison's fixed gaze there was a
+far greater intensity--something even of anxiety.
+
+"Surely we have met before, Mr. Maddison," the baronet said easily.
+"Your face seems quite familiar to me. Ah! I remember now, it was near
+that place of Lord Lathon's, Mallory Grange, upon the coast. A terrible
+affair, that."
+
+"Yes, a terrible affair," Mr. Maddison repeated.
+
+"And have you just come from ----shire?" Sir Allan asked.
+
+"No; I have been abroad for several months," Mr. Maddison answered.
+
+"Abroad!" Sir Allan appeared a little more interested. "In what part?"
+he asked civilly.
+
+"I have been in Spain, and the south of France, across the Hartz
+mountains, and through the Black Forest."
+
+"Not in Italy?" Sir Allan inquired.
+
+There was a short silence, and Sir Allan seemed really anxious for the
+reply. It came at last.
+
+"No; not in Italy."
+
+Sir Allan seemed positively pleased to think that Mr. Maddison had not
+extended his travels to Italy. There was a quiet gleam in his eyes which
+seemed almost like relief. Doubtless he had his reasons, but they were
+a little obscure.
+
+"Ah! Shall you call upon me while you are in town, Mr. Maddison?" he
+asked, in a tone from which all invitation was curiously lacking.
+
+"I think not," Mr. Maddison answered. "My stay here will be brief. I
+dislike London."
+
+Sir Allan laughed gently.
+
+"It is the only place in the world fit to live in," he answered.
+
+"My work and my tastes demand a quieter life," Mr. Maddison remarked.
+
+"You will go into the country then, I suppose."
+
+"That is my intention," was the quiet reply.
+
+"Back to the same neighborhood."
+
+"It is possible."
+
+Sir Allan looked searchingly into the other's calm, expressionless face.
+
+"I should have thought that the associations----"
+
+Mr. Maddison was evidently not used to society. Several people said so
+who saw him suddenly turn his back on that charming old gentleman, Sir
+Allan Beaumerville, and leave him in the middle of a sentence. Lady
+Meltoun, who happened to notice it, was quite distressed at seeing an
+old friend treated in such a manner. But Sir Allan took it very nicely,
+everybody said. There had been a flush in his face just for a moment,
+but it soon died away. It was his own fault, he declared. He had
+certainly made an unfortunate remark, and these artists and literary men
+were all so sensitive. He hoped that Lady Meltoun would think no more of
+it, and accordingly Lady Meltoun promised not to. But though, of course,
+she and every one else who had seen it sympathized with Sir Allan, there
+were one or two, with whom Sir Allan was not quite such a favorite, who
+could not help remarking upon the grand air with which Mr. Maddison had
+turned his back upon the baronet, and the dignity with which he had left
+him.
+
+Mr. Carlyon, who had been watching for his opportunity, buttonholed
+Maddison, and led him into a corner.
+
+"I've got you now," he said triumphantly. "My dear fellow, whatever made
+you snub poor Sir Allan like that?"
+
+"Never mind. Come and make your adieux to Lady Meltoun, and let us go. I
+should not have come here."
+
+"One moment first, Maddison," the artist said seriously. "Do you
+remember those lines of yours in which a man and woman stand on a bare
+hill by a clump of pines, and watch the misty moonlight cast weird
+shadows upon the hillside and over the quivering sea? 'A Farewell,' you
+called it, I think?"
+
+"Yes; I remember them."
+
+"Maddison, the woman to whom I wished to introduce you bids you to go to
+her by the memory of those lines."
+
+There was very little change in his face. It only grew a little more
+rigid, and a strange light gleamed in his eyes. But the hand which he
+had laid on Carlyon's arm to draw him towards Lady Meltoun suddenly
+tightened like a band of iron, till the artist nearly cried out with
+pain.
+
+"Let go my arm, for God's sake, man!" he said in a low tone, "and I will
+take you to her."
+
+"I am ready," Mr. Maddison answered quietly. "Ah! I see where she is.
+You need not come."
+
+He crossed the room, absolutely heedless of more than one attempt to
+stop him. Mr. Carlyon watched him, and then with a sore heart bade his
+hostess farewell, and hurried away. He was generous enough to help
+another man to his happiness, but he could not stay and watch it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+BERNARD MADDISON AND HELEN THURWELL
+
+
+And so it was in Lady Meltoun's drawing-room that they met again, after
+those few minutes in the pine plantation which had given color and
+passion to her life, and which had formed an epoch in his. Neither were
+unmindful of the fact that if they were not exactly the centre of
+observation, they were still liable to it in some degree, and their
+greeting was as conventional as it well could have been. After all, she
+thought, why should it be otherwise? There had never a word of love
+passed between them--only those few fateful moments of tragic intensity,
+when all words and thoughts had been merged in a deep reciprocal
+consciousness which nothing could have expressed.
+
+He stood before her, holding her hand in his for a moment longer than
+was absolutely necessary, and looking at her intently. It was a gaze
+from which she did not shrink, more critical than passionate, and when
+he withdrew his eyes he looked away from her with a sigh.
+
+"You have been living!" he said. "Tell me all about it!"
+
+She moved her skirts to make room for him by her side.
+
+"Sit down!" she said, "and I will try."
+
+He obeyed, but when she tried to commence and tell him all that she had
+felt and thought, she could not. Until that moment she scarcely
+realized how completely her life had been moulded by his influence. It
+was he who had first given her a glimpse of that new world of thought
+and art, and almost epicurean culture into which she had made some
+slight advance during his absence, and it was certain vague but sweet
+recollections of him which had lived with her and flowed through her
+life--a deep undercurrent of passion and poetry, throwing a golden halo
+over all those new sensations--which had raised her existence, and her
+ideals of existence on to a higher level. How could she tell him this?
+The time might come when she could do so, and if ever it did come, she
+knew that it would be the happiest moment of her life. But it was not
+yet.
+
+"Tell me a little of yourself," she said evasively. "You have been
+traveling, have you not?"
+
+"Yes, I have been traveling a little!" he answered. "In Spain I was
+taken ill, and Lady Meltoun was kind to me. That is why I am here."
+
+"But you do not say how it was that you were taken ill," she said, her
+cheeks suddenly glowing. "You saved her son's life. We saw all about it
+in the papers, but of course we did not know that it was you. It was
+splendid!"
+
+"If you saw it in the papers at all, depend upon it, it was very much
+exaggerated!" he answered quietly. "Your father received my letter, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Yes; the cottage has been shut up, just as you desired. Are you ever
+coming to take possession again?"
+
+"I hope so--some day--and yet I do not know. There are strange things in
+my life, Miss Thurwell, which every now and then rise up and drive me
+away into aimless wanderings. Life has no goal for me--it cannot have.
+I stand for ever on the brink of a precipice."
+
+There was a sadness in his voice which almost brought the tears into her
+eyes--mostly for his sake, partly for her own. For, though he might
+never know it, were not his sorrows her sorrows?
+
+"Are they sorrows which you can tell to no one?" she asked softly. "Can
+no one help you?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No one."
+
+"And yet no sorrow can last for ever that has not guilt at its root,"
+she said.
+
+"Mine will last while life lasts," he answered; "and there is--no guilt
+at the root."
+
+"You have taken up another's burden," she said. "Is it well? Do you owe
+nothing to yourself, and your own genius? Sorrow may shorten your life,
+and the world can ill spare your work."
+
+"There are others who can do my work," he said. "No other can----But
+forgive me. I wish to talk of this no more. Tell me of your life since I
+left you. Something in your face tells me that it has been well spent.
+Let me hear of it."
+
+And, gathering up all her courage, she told him. Piece by piece she took
+up the disconnected thoughts and ideas which had come to her, and wove
+them together after the pattern of her life--to which he listened with a
+calm approval, in which was sometimes mingled a deeper enthusiasm, as
+she touched a chord which in his own being had often been struck to deep
+tremulous music. And as she went on he grew sad. With such a companion
+as this woman, whose sensibilities were his sensibilities, and whose
+instincts so naturally cultured, so capable of the deeper coloring and
+emotional passion which his influence could speedily develop--with such
+a woman as this--whom already he loved, what might not life mean for
+him? Well, it must pass. Another of those bright butterfly visions of
+his fancy, gorgeous with hope and brilliancy--another one to be crushed
+by the iron hand of necessity. He had gone away wounded, and he had come
+back to find the wound still bleeding.
+
+Gradually the rooms were thinning, and at last Lady Thurwell, impatient
+of her niece's long absence, came to fetch her. When she found her
+_tête-à-tête_ with the lion of the day, however, her manner was most
+gracious.
+
+"I hope you have been able to persuade Mr. Maddison to come and see us,"
+she said to her niece. "We are at home on Thursdays at Cadogan Square,
+and we lunch every day at two," she added, turning towards him. "Come
+whenever you like."
+
+"You are very good, Lady Thurwell," he said, accepting her offered hand.
+"I am only passing through London, but if I have the opportunity I shall
+avail myself of your kindness."
+
+She left them together for a moment while she made her adieux to her
+hostess. In that moment Helen found courage to yield to a sudden
+impulse.
+
+"Please come," she said softly.
+
+He had no time to answer, for Lady Meltoun had come up to them.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," she said good-naturedly, "I don't know when I shall
+forgive you for monopolizing Mr. Maddison in this shameful manner. Why,
+there were quite a crowd of people came this afternoon only to catch a
+glimpse of him, and there was nothing to be seen but his boots behind
+that screen. I am in terrible disgrace, I can assure you!"
+
+"The fault was mine," he interposed, "altogether mine. In an
+ungovernable fit of shyness, I took refuge with the only person except
+yourself, Lady Meltoun, whom I was fortunate enough to know. I simply
+refused to come away."
+
+"Well, I suppose I must forgive you, or you won't come again," Lady
+Meltoun said. "But now you are here, you must really stop and see Edgar.
+When every one has gone we will go up to the nursery, and in the
+meantime you may make yourself useful by taking Lady Thurwell out to her
+carriage. I'm afraid there's rather a crush."
+
+So they all three went out together, and while they stood waiting for
+Lady Thurwell's victoria, he managed to say a word to her alone.
+
+"I will come and see you," he whispered.
+
+She looked up at him a little shyly, for in handing her into the
+carriage he had assumed a certain air of proprietorship which had
+brought a faint color into her cheeks.
+
+"Come soon," she whispered. "Good-bye!"
+
+She nodded brightly, and Lady Thurwell smiled as the horses started
+forward, and the carriage drove away.
+
+"I wonder who Mr. Maddison really is?" she said, half to herself, just
+as they reached home.
+
+Lady Thurwell shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Do you mean who his family are?" she asked. "My dear, it isn't of the
+slightest consequence. Bernard Maddison is Bernard Maddison, and his
+position would be just what it is, even though his father were a coal
+heaver."
+
+Which remark showed that Lady Thurwell, as well as being a woman of
+society, was also a woman of sense. But Helen was not thinking of his
+family.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+A CHEQUE FOR £1,000
+
+
+It was ten o'clock in the morning, and the usual routine of business had
+commenced in the office of Messrs. Levy & Son. Mr. Levy, senior, was
+sitting at his desk opening his letters, and Mr. Benjamin, who had only
+just returned from a long journey on business of the firm, and did not
+feel inclined for office work, was leaning back in the client's chair,
+with his feet up against the mantelpiece, and a partly smoked cigar in
+his mouth. He had just finished a long account of his adventures, and
+was by no means inclined to quit the subject.
+
+"Altogether, dad," he was saying, "it's about the prettiest piece of
+business we ever struck. But one thing is very certain. We must get some
+more tin from Miss Thurwell. Why, I've been at it five months now, and
+the expenses at some of those foreign hotels were positively awful. Not
+knowing the confounded lingo, you see, I was forced to stump up, without
+trying the knocking-off game."
+
+"Yes, Benjamin. Yes, my son. We must certainly have some more of the
+rhino. Your expenses have been positively e-normous, e-normous,"
+declared the old man, with uplifted hands and eyes. "Some of your drafts
+have brought tears into my eyes. Positively tears," he echoed
+mournfully.
+
+"Couldn't be helped, guv'nor. The thing had to be done."
+
+"And you have got it nearly all in order now, Benjamin, eh? You've got
+him under your thumb, eh? He can't escape?"
+
+"Not he! Mark my words, dad. The rope's already woven that'll go round
+his neck."
+
+The old man looked doubtful.
+
+"If he's such a learned, clever man as you say--writes books and such
+like--they'll never hang him, my son. They'll reprieve him. That's what
+they'll do."
+
+"I don't care a blooming fig which it is, so long as it comes off. Do
+you remember what I told you when Miss Thurwell first came here, dad?"
+
+"Perfectly, my son, perfectly. You said that our fortune was made. Those
+were your very words," he added, with glistening eyes. "Our fortune is
+made."
+
+"And what I said I'll stick to," Mr. Benjamin declared. "When this case
+comes off, it'll be the biggest thundering sensation of the day. And
+who'll get the credit of it all? Who tracked him down for all his false
+name and sly ways; hunted him all over Europe, found out who he really
+was, and why he hated Sir Geoffrey Kynaston so much that he murdered
+him? Why, I did, dad--Benjamin Levy, of Levy & Son, Carle Street,
+Strand. Ain't it glorious, guv'nor? Ain't it proud?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin's enthusiasm was catching. It was reflected in his father's
+face, and something glistened in his eyes. He removed his spectacles,
+and carefully wiped them. After all, he was a father, and he had a
+father's feelings.
+
+"When will the time come, Benjamin?" he inquired.
+
+"A month to-day, I hope," was the prompt reply. "I have one more
+journey to take, and it will be all square."
+
+"Where to? How far?" inquired the old gentleman uneasily.
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at him, and shook his head. "Come, dad, I know what
+you are thinking of," he said. "It's the expense, ain't it?"
+
+"It is, Benjamin," his father groaned. "I hate parting with hard-earned
+money for exorbitant bills and these long journeys. Couldn't it be done
+without it, Ben?" he inquired, in a wheedling tone. "There's piles of
+money gone already in expenses. Piles and piles."
+
+"And if there is, ain't it Miss Thurwell's, you old stupid?" remarked
+Mr. Benjamin. "'Tain't likely that we should find the money ourselves."
+
+"Of course, of course. But, Benjamin, my son, the money is thrown away
+for all that. We could charge it, you know--charge it always. We must
+have a margin--we must positively have a margin to work with."
+
+"Dad, dad, what an old sinner you are!" exclaimed his hopeful son,
+leaning back in his chair and laughing. "A margin to work with. Ha! ha!
+ha!"
+
+Mr. Levy looked uncertain whether to regard his son's merriment as a
+compliment, or to resent it. Eventually, the former appeared to him the
+wisest course, and he smiled feebly.
+
+"Dad, just you leave this matter with me," Mr. Benjamin said at last. "I
+know what I'm doing, and unless I'm very much mistaken, I see my way to
+make this a bigger thing, even as regards the cash, than you and I ever
+dreamed of. Leave it to me. Hullo! who's that?"
+
+He peered up over the office blind, and sat down again at once. In a
+moment his cigar was behind the grate, and his expression completely
+changed.
+
+"Ah! Miss Thurwell, dad," he said coolly, "and I'll bet ten to one I
+know what she wants. Mind you leave it all to me. I've no time to
+explain, but you'll spoil it if you interfere. Come in. Why, Miss
+Thurwell, we were this moment talking of you," he continued, springing
+to his feet and offering her a chair. "Please come in."
+
+Helen advanced into the room, and lifted her veil. One swift glance into
+her flushed face confirmed Mr. Benjamin's idea as to the reason of her
+visit, and he commenced talking rapidly.
+
+"I'm glad you've come this morning, Miss Thurwell. I only got back from
+Spain yesterday, and I'm thankful to tell you our case is nearly
+complete. Thankful for your sake, because you will have the satisfaction
+of seeing the murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston brought to book, and
+thankful for ours, because we shall at one stroke establish our
+reputation. I need not tell you that that is far more to us than the
+reward will be, for our expenses have been enormous."
+
+"Enormous!" groaned Mr. Levy, senior.
+
+"However, we have decided not to take another penny of money from you,
+Miss Thurwell," he continued, casting a warning glance at his father.
+"After all, the money is not so much to us as our reputation, and this
+will be made for ever, now."
+
+Mr. Benjamin paused, a little out of breath, but quite satisfied with
+himself. Opposite, his father was purple with anger, and almost choking
+at his son's folly. Take no more money from Miss Thurwell! Was the boy
+mad?
+
+"I'm afraid, from what you say, Mr. Levy," Helen said hesitatingly,
+"that you will be rather disappointed when I tell you the reason of my
+visit."
+
+Mr. Benjamin, who knew perfectly well what she was going to say, assumed
+an expression of deep concern.
+
+"I find," she continued, "that we must have been making a mistake all
+along, and you have evidently been misled. This Mr. Brown, who appeared
+such a mysterious personage to us, and whom we therefore suspected, is
+no other than Bernard Maddison."
+
+"Yes. I knew that," Mr. Benjamin remarked quietly. "I found that out
+very soon, of course. Author, and all that sort of thing, isn't he?
+Well, go on, Miss Thurwell, please. I am anxious."
+
+She looked surprised.
+
+"Don't you see that this does away with our theory at once? It is quite
+impossible that a man like Bernard Maddison could have committed a
+horrible crime like this."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked ingenuously perplexed.
+
+"I can't say that I follow you, Miss Thurwell," he said, shaking his
+head. "All I know is that I can prove this Mr. Bernard Brown, or Bernard
+Maddison, or whatever else he chooses to call himself, guilty of that
+murder. That's what we want, isn't it?"
+
+A cold chill passed over her, and she was compelled to sink into the
+chair which stood by her side. Like a flash she suddenly realized the
+impossibility of convincing such men as these of his innocence. Yet,
+even then, the worst side of the situation did not occur to her.
+
+"Perhaps we had better put it in this way, Mr. Levy," she said. "I gave
+you certain instructions to follow out, which I now rescind. I wish
+nothing further done in the matter."
+
+Mr. Benjamin's face was a study. He had contrived to conjure up an
+expression which combined the blankest surprise with the keenest
+disappointment. Helen began to feel still more uncomfortable.
+
+"Under the circumstances," she said, "and as you seem rather
+disappointed, I will pay you the reward just as though the thing had
+gone on."
+
+Mr. Benjamin shook his head slowly.
+
+"Do you know, Miss Thurwell, that you are proposing a conspiracy to me?"
+
+"A conspiracy!" she repeated. "I don't understand."
+
+"It's very simple," he went on gravely. "I have in my possession, or
+shortly shall have, every particular of this Mr. Maddison's life. I can
+show the connection between him and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, and, in
+short, I can prove him guilty of murder. What you ask me to do is to
+suppress this. That is the moral side of the question. Then, with regard
+to the practical side, if this thing is gone on with, we shall get the
+reward you promised and, what is far more important to us, a reputation
+which we have looked forward to as a certain foundation for a great
+extension of our business. If, on the other hand, we drop it, we get
+simply the reward, which, pardon my saying so, would be a miserable
+return for all our labor. That is how the matter stands from our point
+of view. I think I've expressed it fairly, father?"
+
+Mr. Levy, who had assumed a far more contented expression, solemnly
+assented. What a son this was of his, he thought. Bless him!
+
+Helen was very pale, and her heart was beating fast. Why had she come to
+this place, and put herself in the power of these men? It was too
+dreadful.
+
+"I do not desire to hear a word of Mr. Maddison's history," she said.
+"This thing must be stopped. I have my cheque book with me. Cannot you
+take money to withdraw from it?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at his father gravely, and Mr. Levy shook his head.
+
+"My dear young lady," he said, "this is a very serious thing, a very
+serious thing."
+
+"The fact is," said Mr. Benjamin, "I was going to Scotland Yard for a
+warrant this morning."
+
+Helen looked from one to the other appealingly, with tears in her eyes.
+Mr. Benjamin appeared to be somewhat moved thereby.
+
+"Look here, dad," he said, "suppose we go into the other room and talk
+this thing over for a few minutes. Miss Thurwell will not mind excusing
+us."
+
+"Oh, no. Only don't be long!" she pleaded.
+
+They left her for barely five minutes, although to her, waiting in an
+agony of impatience, it seemed much longer. When they returned, they
+both looked very solemn.
+
+"We have talked this matter over thoroughly, Miss Thurwell," said Mr.
+Benjamin, taking up his old position at the desk, "and we cannot help
+seeing that it is a great risk for us to run to suppress our
+information, and a great disappointment."
+
+"Quite so, quite so," interrupted Mr. Levy. "A great risk, and a great
+disappointment!"
+
+"Still, we are willing and anxious to help you," Mr. Benjamin continued,
+"and, if you like, we will do so on these terms. If you like to give us
+a cheque for a thousand pounds, we will agree to let the matter stand
+over for the present. We cannot give you any undertaking to absolutely
+destroy or suppress any evidence we may have against Mr. Maddison, as
+that would be a distinct conspiracy, but we will agree to suspend our
+present action, and to do nothing without communicating with you."
+
+She moved to the desk, and drew out her cheque book.
+
+"I will do it," she said. "Give me a pen, please."
+
+There was not the slightest sign of emotion on either of their faces.
+They received the cheque, bowed her out, and watched her disappear into
+the street without making any sign. Then Mr. Benjamin's exultation broke
+out.
+
+"Dad, I told you that our fortune was made, didn't I. Was I right or
+wrong?"
+
+Mr. Levy was so overcome with parental affection, that he could scarcely
+command his voice. But he did so with an effort.
+
+"You were right, my son," he exclaimed. "You were right, Benjamin. We
+will go together and cash the cheque."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY FOR BERNARD BROWN
+
+
+A March wind was roaring over the open moorland, driving huge masses of
+black clouds across the angry sky, and whistling amongst the dark
+patches of pine trees, until it seemed as though their slender stems
+must snap before the strain. All around Falcon's Nest the country, not
+yet released from the iron grip of a late winter, lay wasted and
+desolate; and the heath, which had lost all the glowing touch of autumn,
+faded into the horizon bare and colorless. Nowhere was there any relief
+of outline, save where the white front of Thurwell Court stretched
+plainly visible through a park of leafless trees.
+
+And of all the hours of the day it was at such a season the most
+depressing. Faint gleams of the lingering day still hung over the
+country, struggling with the stormy twilight, and a pale, wan glare,
+varied with long black shadows, moved swiftly across the sea and the
+moor--the reflection of the flying clouds overhead.
+
+A single human being, the figure of a tall man clad in an ulster
+buttoned up to the throat, was making his way across the open country.
+He walked rapidly--and, indeed, there was nothing to tempt any one to
+linger--and his destination was obvious. He was on his way to Falcon's
+Nest.
+
+A drearier abode than it appeared that afternoon never raised its four
+walls to the sky. The grounds which surrounded it had been swept bare
+by the storms of winter, and nothing had been done to repair the
+destruction which they had accomplished. Uprooted shrubs lay dead and
+dying upon the long dank grass, and the creepers torn from the walls
+hung down in pitiful confusion. Every window reflected back the same
+blank uninviting gloom. There was no light, no single sign of
+habitation. Mr. Thurwell had evidently respected his tenant's wish to
+the letter. The place had not been touched or entered during his
+absence.
+
+The pedestrian, Mr. Bernard Brown himself, leaned over the gate for a
+moment, silently contemplating the uninviting scene with a grim smile.
+He had reasons of his own for being satisfied that the place had not
+been interfered with, and it certainly seemed as though such were the
+case.
+
+After a few minutes' hesitation he drew a key from his pocket and fitted
+it in the lock. There was a resistance when he tried to turn it that he
+did not understand. Stooping down, he suddenly tried the handle. It
+opened smoothly. The gate was unlocked. He withdrew the key with
+trembling fingers. All his relief at the dismantled appearance of the
+cottage had disappeared. A strange unquiet look shone in his eyes, and
+his manner suddenly became nervous and hurried. He had locked the gate
+on his departure, he was sure, and Mr. Thurwell's steward had told him
+that there was no duplicate set of keys. How could it have been opened
+save with a skeleton key.
+
+He walked quickly up the path to the front door. Here a greater shock
+still awaited him. The latch-key which he held ready in his hand was not
+needed. He tried the handle, and the door opened.
+
+Mr. Brown grew white to the lips, and he shrank back as though afraid
+or reluctant to enter the house. The door stood ajar. He pushed it open
+with his stick, and peered in upon the darkness. Everything was silent
+as the grave. He listened for a moment, and then, his natural courage
+returning, he stepped inside, and closed the door after him. The
+shutting out of the few gleams of daylight which lingered in the sky
+left him in utter darkness. Fumbling in his pocket, he produced a wax
+candle wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and a box of matches, one of
+which he carefully struck.
+
+At first the gloom seemed too profound to be dispersed by the feeble
+flickering light, but gradually, as his eyes became accustomed to it, he
+began to distinguish the more familiar objects. Half fearfully he
+glanced towards the door on the right-hand side. It stood half open.
+There was no longer room for any doubt. The house had been opened during
+his absence.
+
+The full realization of any disaster often brings with it a calm which,
+to all outward appearance, contrasts favorably with the prior state of
+anxiety. This appeared to be the case with Mr. Bernard Brown. His
+entrance to the house had been hesitating and anxious, but as soon as he
+was convinced that what he dreamed had really come to pass, his
+nervousness seemed to fall away from him, and he was his old self again,
+calm and resolute. Holding the flickering candle high above his head, he
+moved steadily forward into the room on the right-hand side of the
+entrance.
+
+Everything here was exactly as he had left it. The cases filled with
+books, some half emptied, some untouched, still lay about the floor,
+with the dust thick upon them. He cast one swift glance around, and then
+walked across and opened the door of the small inner room. The sudden
+draught extinguished his candle, and he found himself suddenly in total
+darkness. The closely barred shutters, which protected the low window,
+were securely fastened, and effectually shut out the lingering remnants
+of daylight. Stooping down, he re-lit the candle which he was still
+carrying, and holding it high over his head, looked anxiously around.
+One glance was sufficient. In the corner of the room opposite to him was
+a small table, where he always kept a basin of cold water and some clean
+towels. Round here the carpet had been torn up, and rearranged, with
+little pretence at concealment. Nearer the window stood a large oak
+cabinet, the most important piece of furniture in the room, and this he
+saw again in a moment had been tampered with. It had been moved a little
+out of its position, and one of the lower drawers stood partly open.
+
+Like a man in a dream he slowly walked across to it and drew out a bunch
+of keys from his pocket. The final test had yet to be applied, and the
+final blow to fall.
+
+He unlocked the topmost partition, and revealed a number of small
+drawers. Eagerly he drew out the topmost one, and looked inside. Then he
+knew the worst. It was empty. There was no longer any doubt whatever.
+His cottage had been entered by no ordinary housebreaker, for the
+purpose of plunder, but with a set of false keys, and with a far more
+serious object. The secret on which more than his life depended was
+gone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+GOD! THAT I MAY DIE!
+
+
+For a certain space of time, which seemed to him indefinite, but which
+was indeed of no great length, he stood there stunned, gazing at the
+rifled cabinet. Then, as consciousness returned to him, the roar of the
+storm without fell upon his ears, and struck some strange note of accord
+with the tumult in his brain. Turning round, he unbarred the shutters,
+and, opening the window, stepped outside. With slow, uncertain steps he
+made his way through the dense black plantation of shrieking fir trees,
+and out on to the cliffs. Here he paused, and stood quite still, looking
+across the sea. There was no light in the sky, but the veil of absolute
+darkness had not yet fallen upon the earth. Far away on the horizon was
+a lurid patch of deep yellow storm-clouds, casting a faint glimmer upon
+the foaming sea, which seemed to leap up in a weird monotonous joy to
+catch the unearthly light. From inland, rolling across the moorland,
+came phantom-like masses of vaporous cloud, driven on by the fierce wind
+which boomed across the open country, and shrieked and yelled amongst
+the pine plantations as though mad with a sudden hellish joy. On the
+verge of the cliff he stretched out his arms, as though to welcome the
+wild din of the night. The thunder of the ocean, seething and leaping
+against the rocks below, shook the air around him. The salt spray leaped
+up into his white face, and the winds blew against him, and the
+passionate cry of saddened nature rang in his deafened ears. At that
+moment those things were a joy to him.
+
+And there came to him then something of that strange sweet calm which
+lays its soothing hand for a moment upon those who stand face to face
+with death, or any other mighty crisis. Looking steadfastly far away,
+beyond the foaming waste of waters to where one faint streak of
+stormlight shone on the horizon, pictures of the past began to rise up
+before his eyes. He saw himself again a happy, light-hearted child,
+riding gaily upon his father's shoulder, and laughing up into the
+beautiful face of his youthful mother. The memories of that time, and of
+his first home, came back to him with a peculiar freshness and
+fragrance, like a painting by one of the old masters, perfect in design,
+and with its deep rich coloring softened and mellowed by age. He
+remembered the bright beauty of those sunny southern gardens, where he
+had passed long hours listening to the gentle splashing of the water in
+the worn grey fountain bowl, and breathing in the soft spring-like air,
+faint with the sweetness of Roman violets. And, half unconsciously, his
+thoughts travelled on to the time when all the pure beauty of his
+surroundings--for his had been an artist's home--had begun to have a
+distinct meaning for him, and in the fervor of an esthetic and unusually
+thoughtful youth, he had dreamed, and felt, and tasted deep of pleasures
+which the world yields only to those who stoop to listen to her secrets,
+with the quickened sensibilities and glowing imagination of the
+artist--one of her own children. He had read her in such a way that he
+found himself struggling, even in early boyhood, for some means of
+expression--but at that time none had come to him. The fruits of his
+later life had been the result of his early experience, but how
+embittered, how saddened by the unchanging gloom, which, at one period,
+had seemed as though it must dry up for ever all enthusiasm from his
+boyish heart. What a fire of passions had blazed up and died away within
+him; and as he thought of that sudden dying away, he thought of the
+moment when they had been quenched for ever, and of the voice which had
+quenched them. Again he crouched on his knees by the side of the sofa
+drawn up close to the high open windows of the Italian villa, and felt
+that thin white hand laid gently upon his trembling lips, checking in a
+moment the flood of angry words which in his heart had been but the
+prelude to a curse. The calm of that death-white face, with its marble
+passionless pallor and saint-like beauty, lingered still, faithfully
+treasured up in the rich store-house of his memory. Death alone would
+wipe it out. It was one of the experiences of his life, written alike
+into his undying recollection, and into his heart.
+
+And then had come that period of severe struggle with himself, out of
+which he had emerged not only a conqueror, but with all the spoils of
+conquest. For he had found himself, after the battle was fought out and
+won, possessed of a more triumphant self-control, and a complete mastery
+over those fierce earthly passions which, had they held sway for long,
+would in time most surely have weakened that higher and purer part of
+his nature from which all the good of his life had come. It was, indeed,
+in some measure owing to the wholesome discipline of this struggle that
+he had found at last the long-sought-for gift of expression, and,
+taking up the pen, had sent forth golden words and thoughts into an age
+where such metal was rare indeed. Always there had been this dark cloud
+of anxiety looming over him, and leading him into many countries and
+constantly denying him the peace for which he longed. Then had come the
+climax of it all, the tragedy which had thrown over him the lowering
+cloud of a hideous danger. Failure was his. The moment of trial had
+come, and he had been unequal to it; and day and night there rang ever
+in his ears the faint far-off whisper of those tremulous lips, and the
+pleading light in those burning eyes seemed ever before him. Again he
+felt the touch of that icy cold hand, and again he remembered the words
+of the oath which, alas! he had not kept. Oh, it was horrible!
+
+Once more his thoughts moved on a stage, and this time they reached
+their climax. Before his fixed eyes there floated the image of a sweet,
+wistful face glowing with healthy physical life, and yet with all that
+delicate refinement of coloring and feature which had made her face
+linger in his artist's memory for years before she had dwelt in his
+man's heart. It was a torture of hell, this, that the fairest and
+sweetest part of a man's life--his love--should come to him at such a
+time. And then for one brief moment all memory of his misery passed away
+from him, and his whole being became absorbed in a luxury of
+recollection. He thought of the change which his love had wrought in
+him. What had life been before? A long series of artistic and
+philosophical abstractions, bringing their own peculiar content, but a
+content never free from disquieting thought and restless doubts. How
+could it be otherwise? Was he not human like other men? Asceticism and
+intellect, and a certain purity of life which an almost epicurean
+refinement had rendered beautiful to him, these, easily keeping in sway
+his passionate temperament through all the long years of his life, now
+only served to fan the flame of that great pure love which had suddenly
+leaped up within him, a blazing, unquenchable fire. Human emotion once
+aroused, had thrilled through all his being with a sweet, heart-stirring
+music, and his whole nature was shaking from its very foundation. To him
+such a love seemed like the rounding of his life, the panacea for all
+that vague disquiet which, even in the moments of most perfect
+intellectual serenity, had sometimes disturbed him. The love of such a
+man was no light thing. It had mingled with his heart's blood, with the
+very essence of all his being. No death, no annihilation was possible
+for it. It was a part of himself, woven unchangeably into his life in a
+glowing skein, the brilliant colors of which could never fade. He looked
+into the future, golden with the light of such a love, and he saw a
+vision of perfect happiness, of joy beyond all expression, of deep, calm
+content, surpassing anything which he had known. Hand in hand he saw two
+figures, himself and her, gliding through the years with a sort of
+effortless energy, tasting together of everything in life that was
+sweet, and pure, and beautiful; scattering all trouble and worldly
+vexation to the winds, by the touchstone of their undying love. There
+was intoxication--ethereal intoxication in such a vision. The winds blew
+against him, and the torrents of driven rain, cold and stinging, dashed
+themselves against his pale, steadfast face. Down on the beach below the
+mad sea was thundering upon the cliffs, flinging its white spray so high
+that it glittered like specks of luminous white light against the black
+waters. Yet he noticed none of it. Until the brilliancy of that vision
+which glowed before him faded, nothing external could withdraw his
+thoughts.
+
+And fade away it did at last, and neither the cold rain nor the howling
+wind had given him such a chill as crept through all his body, when
+memory and realization drove forth this sweet flower of his imagination.
+All the cruel hopelessness, the horror of his position, rushed in upon
+him like a foul nightmare. He saw himself shunned and despised, the
+faces of all men averted from him; all that had gone to make his life
+worthy, and even famous, forgotten in the stigma of an awful crime. He
+saw her eager, beautiful face, white and convulsed with horror,
+shrinking away from him as from some loathsome object. God! it was
+madness to think of it! Let this thought go from him, fade away from his
+reeling brain, or he would surely go mad.
+
+Heedless of the fury of the winds that roared over the moorland, and
+sobbed and shrieked in the pine grove, he threw himself upon his knees
+close to the very verge of the cliff, and stretched out his hands to the
+darkened heavens in a passionate gesture of despair. It was the first
+time during all the fierce troubles of a stormy life that he had shrunk
+down, beaten for the moment by the utter hopelessness of the struggle
+which seemed to him now fast drawing toward its end.
+
+"God! that I may die!" he moaned. "That I may die!"
+
+And, as though in answer to his prayer, life for him suddenly became a
+doubtful thing. A wild gust of wind had uprooted a young fir tree from
+the plantation, and bearing it with a savage glee toward the cliff side,
+dashed it against the kneeling man. There was no chance for him against
+it. Over they went, man and tree together, to all appearance bound for
+inevitable destruction.
+
+Even in that second, when he felt himself being hurled over the cliff,
+by what force he knew not, the consciousness of the sudden granting of
+his prayer flashed across his mind, and, strange though it may seem,
+brought with it a deep content. It was as he would have it be, death
+sudden and unfelt. But following close upon it came another thought, so
+swiftly works the brain in the time of a great crisis. He would be found
+dead, and everyone, in the light of what would soon be made known, would
+surely call it suicide. She would think so, too. Death on such terms he
+would not willingly have.
+
+Effort followed swiftly upon thought. He clutched wildly at the cliff
+side during the first second of that flying descent, and the wind
+bending it almost double, brought a stunted fir tree sapling within his
+reach. He grasped it, and he was saved. Only a yard or two away, the
+cliff side was black with them growing so closely together that he
+pulled himself with ease from one to another till he climbed over the
+cliff top, and stood again upright on the ground.
+
+His hands were bleeding, and his clothes were hanging round him in rags.
+Yet, in a certain sense, his narrow escape had done him good, for it had
+brought very vividly before him the impiety of his prayer. He had given
+way too long to maddening thoughts, and they had unnerved him. With the
+consciousness of his escape, all the manliness of his nature reasserted
+itself. He had faced this thing so long that he would face it now to the
+end. Let it come when it would, he would summon up all his strength, and
+meet it like a man. After death was peace for everlasting. God keep him
+in that faith!
+
+He turned away from the cliff, and walked quickly back to the cottage,
+making his plans as he went. First he changed all his clothes, and then
+opening again his rifled cabinet, he transferred the remaining papers to
+a small handbag. These were all his preparations, but when he stepped
+out again and walked down the path of his garden, a change had fallen
+upon the earth. Faint gleams of dawn were breaking through the eastern
+sky, and though the sea was still troubled and crested with white-foamed
+breakers, the wind had gone down. Compared with the violence of the
+storm a few hours back, the stillness of the gray twilight was full of a
+peculiar impressiveness. Peace after the storm. Rest after trouble.
+
+And something of this saddened peace crept into the heart of the
+solitary figure crossing the moorland--on his way back to face a doom
+which seemed closing in fast around him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE HAS A CALLER
+
+
+Sir Allan Beaumerville, Bart., _dilettante_ physician and man of
+fashion, was, on the whole, one of the most popular men in London
+society. He was rich, of distinguished appearance, had charming manners,
+and was a bachelor, which combination might possibly account in some
+measure for the high esteem in which he was held amongst the opposite
+sex. He had made his _début_ in society quite late in life, for he had
+succeeded to the baronetcy, which was one of the oldest and richest in
+the country, unexpectedly; and, as a young man, London--fashionable
+London, at any rate--had seen or known nothing of him. Nor, indeed, had
+he at any time had much to say to anyone about the earlier period of his
+life. It was generally understood that he had lived abroad, and that he
+had been in some sort of practice, or how else could he have acquired
+his knowledge of the technical part of his profession? Beyond this,
+nothing was known; and although he was evidently a traveled man, having
+much to say at times about all the interesting parts of Southern Europe,
+no one ever remembered meeting him anywhere. For the rest, he had passed
+through none of the curriculum of English youth. No public school had
+had his name upon its books, nor had he even graduated in his own
+country. But he had taken a very high degree indeed at Heidelberg,
+which had won him considerable respect among those who knew anything
+about such matters, and his diplomas included half the letters of the
+alphabet, and were undeniable. And so when he had suddenly appeared in
+London on the death of his uncle and cousin, a middle-aged,
+distinguished gentleman, with manners a little foreign, but in their way
+perfect, society had voted him a great improvement on the former
+baronet, and had taken him by the hand at once. That was a good many
+years ago, and very soon after his first introduction to the London
+world he had become a notable figure in it. He had never missed a town
+season, and at all its chief functions was a well-known and popular
+figure, always among the best and most exclusive set, and always welcome
+there. He had a yacht at Cowes, a share in a Scotch moor, a dozen or so
+hunters at his little place near Melton, a shooting box in Derbyshire,
+and a fine old mansion and estate in Kent, where everyone liked to be
+asked; and where he had more than once had the honor of entertaining
+royalty. There was only one thing in the world wanted to make Sir Allan
+Beaumerville perfect, women declared, and that one thing was a wife. But
+although no one appeared to appreciate more highly the charms of
+feminine society--as he showed in more ways than one, both in St. John's
+Wood and in Belgravia--he had never shown the least inclination to
+perform his duty to society in this respect. How he managed to steer
+clear of the many snares and pitfalls laid for him in the course of his
+career puzzled a good many men. But he did it, and what was more
+remarkable still, he made no enemies. He had friendships among the other
+sex such as no man save he dared have indulged in to a like extent; but
+with infinite skill he always seemed to be able to drop some delicate
+insinuation as to the utter absence of any matrimonial intention on his
+part, which left no room for doubt or hope. He was, in short, possessed
+of admirable powers of diplomacy which never failed him.
+
+Of course his impregnability gave rise to all manner of stories. He had
+been jilted in his youth, he had a wife alive, or he had had one, and
+she was dead, none of which rumors met any large amount of credence. As
+to the first, the idea of anyone jilting Sir Allan Beaumerville, even
+before his coming into the baronetcy, found no favor in the feminine
+world. No woman could have shown such ill judgment as that; and,
+besides, he had very little of the melancholy which is generally
+supposed to attend upon such a disappointment. As to the second, it was
+never seriously entertained, for if any woman had once claimed Sir Allan
+Beaumerville as a husband, she was scarcely likely to keep away from
+him, especially now that he was occupying such a distinguished position.
+The third was quite out of the question, for even had he ever been
+married--which nobody believed--he was scarcely the sort of man to wear
+the willow all his life, and, indeed, it was very evident that he was
+not doing anything of the sort. Everyone knew of a certain little
+establishment beyond Kensington way, where Sir Allan's brougham was
+often seen, but of course no one thought the worse of him for that. And
+without a doubt, if Sir Allan had yielded to that gentle wish so often
+expressed, and commenced domestic life in a more conventional manner in
+the great house at Grosvenor Square, he would have forfeited at once a
+great deal of his popularity, at any rate among the feminine part of his
+acquaintance. As it was, there was always a faint hope of winning him to
+add a zest to his delightful companionship, and Sir Allan, who was a
+very shrewd man, was perfectly aware of this. He was a sybarite of
+refined taste, with an exquisite appreciation of the finer and more
+artistic pleasures of life; and the society of educated and well-bred
+women was one of the chief of them. Rather than run any risk of
+deterioration in its quality he preferred to let things remain as they
+were, and that he might enjoy it the more thoroughly without the
+restraint placed upon other men, was the sole reason that he had not
+altogether abandoned his profession. He never took any fee, nor did he
+ever accept any casual patient. But on certain days of the week, at
+certain hours, he was at home as a physician to certain of his lady
+acquaintances to whom he had already offered his services. The number
+was always few, for the invitations were rarely given, and the patients
+generally remained upon the sick list for an indefinite period. But
+there were few invitations more sought after. Something--perhaps the
+very slight spice of impropriety which certain prudes, who had not been
+asked, affected to see in such an arrangement--had made them the
+fashion; and, then, Sir Allan was undeniably clever. Altogether, the
+idea was a great success for him.
+
+It had been one of Sir Allan's afternoon receptions, and, as usual,
+every patient on his list had paid him a visit. Having seen the last and
+most favored to her carriage, Sir Allan returned to his study with a
+slight smile on his handsome face, and the recollection of some
+delightfully confidential little speeches still tingling in his ears.
+For a moment he stood on the hearth rug recalling them, then he looked
+round the room and rang the bell. A servant appeared almost
+immediately.
+
+"Clear these things away, Morton," Sir Allan said, pointing to some
+dainty marvels of china and a Japanese teapot, which stood on a little
+round table between two chairs, "and bring me a loose jacket from my
+room. I am dining in Downing Street to-night, and shall not want to
+dress before eight."
+
+The man obeyed, and Sir Allan, lighting a thick Egyptian cigarette, took
+up a French novel, and stretched himself out in his easy chair.
+
+"You are not at home to anyone else this afternoon, sir?" the servant
+inquired before quitting the room.
+
+"Certainly not," Sir Allan answered, yawning. "Has anyone been inquiring
+for me?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lady or gentleman?"
+
+"Gentleman, sir--at least, I think so. He looks like one."
+
+"Any name?"
+
+"I didn't inquire, sir. I said that you were not at home; but, as he
+seemed very pressing, I promised to try and ascertain when you would be
+at liberty."
+
+"Ask him his name," Sir Allan directed.
+
+The man withdrew, and returned in a moment or two looking a little
+puzzled.
+
+"His name is Brown, sir--Mr. Bernard Brown."
+
+Sir Allan was seldom clumsy in little things, but at that moment he
+dropped the book which he had been reading upon the floor. The servant
+hastened toward it, but Sir Allan waved him away. He preferred to pick
+it up himself.
+
+"I'm afraid I've lost my place," he remarked, turning over the leaves.
+"You can show Mr. Brown in here, Morton," he added. "I may as well see
+what he wants."
+
+The man withdrew, and Sir Allan recommenced the chapter. Then the door
+was opened again, and the visitor was admitted. Sir Allan laid the paper
+knife carefully in his place, and shutting the book, rose from his
+chair.
+
+"Mr. Brown," he said, "I am very pleased to see you. Come and take a
+seat here."
+
+He stood up in an easy attitude upon the hearthrug, and pointed with a
+smile to the chair which his last visitor had occupied. But he did not
+offer his hand to Mr. Brown, nor did Mr. Brown appear to expect it.
+
+The apartment was in the semi-gloom of twilight, for the silver lamp
+burning on the bracket by Sir Allan's side was covered with a
+rose-colored shade, and threw all its light downward. The art treasures
+with which the room was crowded, and the almost voluptuous grace of its
+adornment and coloring, were more suggested than seen. Mr. Brown, who
+had advanced only a few steps from the closed door, covered his eyes
+with his hand, and looked a little dazed.
+
+"Do you live in darkness?" he said in a low tone. "I want to see your
+face."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders, and turned up the lamp a little higher
+than it was. The faces of the two men were now distinctly visible to
+each other, and the contrast between them was rather startling. Sir
+Allan's was placid, courteous, and inquiring. Mr. Brown's was white
+almost to ghastliness, and his eyes were burning with a strange light.
+
+"I wish you'd sit down, my dear fellow!" Sir Allan remarked in a tone of
+good-natured remonstrance. "It worries me to see you standing there, and
+I'm sure you look tired enough."
+
+Mr. Brown took no notice whatever of the invitation.
+
+"I have come to see you, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said slowly, "to
+lay certain facts before you, and to ask your advice concerning them--as
+a disinterested party."
+
+"Very happy, I'm sure, to do the best I can," Sir Allan murmured,
+lighting a fresh cigarette. "I wish you'd sit down to it, though. I
+suppose it's about that murder we were mixed up in? Horrid affair it
+was."
+
+"Yes, it was a very horrid affair," Mr. Brown repeated slowly.
+
+"They haven't caught the man yet, I suppose?"
+
+"They have not--yet."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his fine shoulders.
+
+"I fancy their chance is a poor one now, then," he remarked, emitting a
+little cloud of smoke from his lips, and watching it curl upward in a
+faint blue wreath to the ceiling. "How differently they manage affairs
+on the Continent! Such a crime would not go undetected a day there."
+
+"It will not be undetected here many more days," Mr. Brown said. "My own
+belief is that a warrant is already issued for the apprehension of the
+supposed murderer, and I should not be surprised to hear that at this
+very moment the police were watching this house."
+
+Sir Allan looked hard at his guest, and elevated his eyebrows.
+
+"This is a very serious matter, Mr. Brown," he said, looking at him
+steadily in the face. "Do I understand----?"
+
+"I will explain," Mr. Brown interrupted quietly. "On my return to
+Falcon's Nest yesterday, I find that during my absence the cottage has
+been entered, apparently by some one in authority, for keys have been
+used. My cabinet has been forced open, and a number of my private
+letters and papers have been taken away. Certain other investigations
+have also been made, obviously with the same object."
+
+Sir Allan maintained his attitude of polite attention, but he had
+stopped smoking, and his cigarette was burning unnoticed between his
+fingers.
+
+"I scarcely see the connection yet," he said suavely. "No doubt I am a
+little dense. You speak about a number of private papers having been
+abstracted from your cabinet. Do I understand--is it possible that
+anything in those papers could lead people to fix upon you as the
+murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"
+
+The two men looked steadily into each other's faces. There was nothing
+in Sir Allan's expression beyond a slightly shocked surprise; in Mr.
+Brown's there was a very curious mixture indeed.
+
+"Most certainly!" was the quiet reply. "Those letters plainly point out
+a motive for my having committed the crime."
+
+"They are from----"
+
+"Stop!"
+
+Sir Allan started. The word had burst from Mr. Brown's lips with a
+passion which his former quietude rendered the more remarkable. There
+was a dead silence between them for fully a minute. Then Mr. Brown,
+having resumed his former manner, spoke again.
+
+"Those letters," he said, "tell the story of a certain episode in the
+life of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. No other person is mentioned or alluded
+to in them. Yet the fact of their having been found in my possession
+makes them strong evidence against me."
+
+Sir Allan nodded.
+
+"I don't know why on earth you've come to me for advice," he remarked.
+"I'm not a lawyer."
+
+"Neither do I quite know. Still, I have come; and, as I am here, give it
+me."
+
+"In a word, then--bolt," said Sir Allan laconically.
+
+"That is your advice, is it?"
+
+"I don't see anything else to do. I don't ask you whether you are guilty
+or not, and I do ask myself whether I am doing my duty in giving you any
+advice calculated to defeat the ends of justice. I simply consider the
+facts, and tell you what I should do if I were in your unfortunate
+position. I should bolt."
+
+"Thank you, Sir Allan, for your advice so far," Mr. Brown said quietly.
+"There is just one little complication, however, which I wish to tell
+you of."
+
+"Yes. Might I trouble you to put the matter in as short a form as
+possible, then?" Sir Allan remarked, looking at his watch. "I am dining
+with the Prime Minister to-night, and it is time I commenced to dress."
+
+"I will not detain you much longer," Mr. Brown said. "The complication,
+I fear, will scarcely interest you, for it is a sentimental one. If I
+fled from England to-night, I should leave behind me the woman I love."
+
+"Then why the devil don't you take her with you?" asked Sir Allan, with
+a shrug of the shoulders. "She'll go right enough if you ask her. Women
+like a little mystery."
+
+"The woman whom I love appears to be of a different class to those from
+whom you have drawn your experience," Mr. Brown answered quietly. "I am
+not married to her."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders lightly.
+
+"Well, if she's a prude, and won't go, and you haven't pluck enough to
+run away with her, I don't know how to advise you," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Brown looked steadily into the other's face. Sir Allan met his gaze
+blandly.
+
+"Your speech, Sir Allan, betrays a cynicism which I believe is greatly
+in fashion just now," Mr. Brown said slowly. "Sometimes it is altogether
+assumed, sometimes it is only a thin veneer adopted in obedience to the
+decree of fashion. Believing that, so far as you are concerned, the
+latter is the case, I beg you to look back into your past life, and
+recall, if possible, some of its emotions. Again I tell you that if I
+fly from England, I shall leave behind me the woman I dearly love. I
+have come to you, Sir Allan Beaumerville, with an effort. I lay all
+these facts before you, and I ask you to decide for me. What shall I
+do?"
+
+"And I repeat, my dear fellow," answered Sir Allan suavely, "that the
+only advice I can give you is, to leave England to-night!"
+
+Mr. Brown hesitated for a moment. Then he turned away toward the door
+without a word or gesture of farewell.
+
+"By the by," Sir Allan remarked, "one moment, Mr. Brown! Have you any
+objection to telling me the name of the lady who has been honored with
+your affection. Do I know her?"
+
+"You do. Her name is no concern of yours, though."
+
+Suddenly an unpleasant idea seemed to flash across Sir Allan's mind. He
+was more disturbed than he had been during the whole of the interview.
+
+"Of course you don't mean that charming Miss Thurwell?" he said quickly.
+
+The limits of Mr. Brown's endurance seemed to have been passed. He
+turned suddenly round, his eyes blazing with passion, and walked across
+the room to within a few feet of Sir Allan. He stood there with one hand
+grasping the back of a chair, and looked at him.
+
+"And if I did mean her, sir, what is that to you? By what right do you
+dare to----"
+
+Suddenly his upraised hand fell. Both men stood as though turned to
+stone, listening, yet scarcely daring to glance toward the door. It was
+the sound of Morton's quiet voice and the trailing of skirts which had
+checked Mr. Brown's passionate speech.
+
+"Lady and Miss Thurwell!"
+
+There was no time to move, scarcely time for thought. Morton stood
+respectfully at the door, and the two ladies were already on the
+threshold.
+
+"My dear Sir Allan"--in Lady Thurwell's silvery voice--"what will you
+think of such a late visit? I felt ashamed to ask for you, only we have
+been at the Countess of Applecorn's in the next square, and I could
+positively not pass your door when I remembered that it was your
+afternoon. But you are all in darkness; and you have a visitor, haven't
+you?"
+
+The figures of the two men were barely visible in the deep gloom of the
+apartment, for the lamp had burned low, and gave little light. Lady
+Thurwell had stopped just inside the room, surprised.
+
+If only Sir Allan's companion had been a patient! What a delightful
+piece of scandal it would have been!
+
+"Lady Thurwell! Ah, how good of you!" exclaimed Sir Allan, coming
+forward out of the shadow; "and you, too, Miss Helen. I am honored
+indeed. Morton, lights at once!"
+
+"We must not stay a moment," declared Lady Thurwell, shaking hands.
+"No, we won't sit down, thanks! You know why we've called? It's about
+the opera to-night. You got my note?"
+
+"I did, Lady Thurwell, and I can trustfully say that I never read one
+from you with more regret."
+
+"Then you have an engagement?"
+
+"Unfortunately, yes! I am dining at Downing Street."
+
+"Well, we must send for that schoolboy cousin of yours, Helen!" said
+Lady Thurwell, laughing. "You see how dependent we are upon your sex,
+after all. Why, is that really you, Mr. Maddison!" she broke off
+suddenly, as a tall figure emerged a little out of the gloom. "Fancy
+meeting you here! I had no idea that you and Sir Allan Beaumerville were
+friends. Helen, do you see Mr. Maddison?"
+
+"I can't say that I do," she answered, with a low happy laugh; "but I'm
+very glad he's here!"
+
+The lights were brought in as she finished her little speech, and they
+all looked at one another. Lady Thurwell broke into a little laugh.
+
+"Really, this is a singular meeting," she said, "but we mustn't stop a
+moment. Mr. Maddison, we were hoping to see you yesterday afternoon. Do
+come soon!"
+
+He bowed with a faint smile upon his lips.
+
+"Come out to the carriage with us, please, Mr. Maddison," Helen said to
+him in a low tone as Lady Thurwell turned to go; and he walked down the
+hall between them and out on to the pavement, leaving Sir Allan on the
+steps.
+
+"You will come and dine with me soon, won't you, Mr. Maddison?" Lady
+Thurwell asked him, as she touched his hand stepping into the brougham.
+
+"I will come whenever you ask me!" he answered rashly.
+
+"Then come now!" said Helen quickly. "We are all alone for the evening,
+fancy that, and we can't go out anywhere because we haven't an escort.
+Do come!"
+
+He looked at Lady Thurwell.
+
+"It will be a real charity if you will," she said, smiling graciously.
+"We shall be bored to death alone."
+
+"I shall be delighted," he answered at once. "About eight o'clock, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Half-past seven, please, and we'll have a long evening," said Helen.
+"That will give you time to get to your club and dress. Good-by!"
+
+They drove off, and Mr. Bernard Brown walked swiftly away toward Pall
+Mall. Once he stopped in the middle of the pavement and broke into an
+odd little laugh. It was a curious position to be in. He was expecting
+every moment to be arrested for murder, and he was going out to dine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"GOD FORBID IT!"
+
+
+Mr. Maddison--to drop at this point the name under which he had chosen
+to become the tenant of Falcon's Nest--was a member of a well-known
+London club, chiefly affected by literary men, and after his acceptance
+of Lady Thurwell's invitation, he hastened there at once and went to his
+room to dress. As a rule a man does not indulge in any very profound
+meditation during the somewhat tedious process of changing his morning
+clothes for the monotonous garb of Western civilization. His attention
+is generally fully claimed by the satisfactory adjusting of his tie and
+the precaution he has to use to avoid anything so lamentable as a crease
+in his shirt, and if his thoughts stray at all, it is seldom beyond the
+immediate matter of his toilet, or at most a little anticipation with
+regard to the forthcoming evening. If on the right side of thirty, a
+pair of bright eyes may sometimes make him pause for a moment, even with
+the hair brushes in his hands, to wonder if she will be there to-night,
+and if by any fortunate chance he will be able to take her in to dinner.
+And if the reign of the forties has commenced, it is just possible that
+a little mild speculation as to the _entrées_ may be admitted. But, as a
+rule, a man's thoughts do not on such an occasion strike deep beneath
+the surface, and there is no record of an author having laid the plan of
+his next work, or a soldier having marked out a campaign, while
+struggling with a refractory tie, or obstinate parting. Even if such had
+ever happened to be the case, we should not have cared to hear about it.
+We prefer to think of a Napoleon planning great conquests in the serene
+stillness of night among a sleeping camp and beneath a starlit sky, or
+of a Wordsworth writing his poetry in his cottage home among the
+mountains.
+
+But Mr. Bernard Maddison, before he left his room that evening, had come
+to a great decision--a decision which made his step the firmer, and
+which asserted itself in the carriage of his head and the increased
+brightness of his eyes, as he slowly descended the wide, luxurious
+staircase. And he felt calmer, even happier, from having at least passed
+from amid the shoals of doubt and uncertainty. The slight nervousness
+had quite left him. He was still more than ordinarily pale, and there
+was a look of calm resignation in his thoughtful æsthetic face which
+gave to its intellectuality a touch of spirituality. One of the members
+of the club said, later on in the smoking room, that Maddison seemed to
+him to realize one's idea of St. Augustine in evening clothes. So far as
+appearance went the comparison was not inapt.
+
+As he reached the hall the porter came up to him with his cloak.
+
+"There is a gentleman waiting for you in the strangers' room, sir," he
+said.
+
+Mr. Maddison turned away that the man might not see the sudden dread in
+his face. It was not a long respite he craved for--only one evening. Was
+even this to be denied him?
+
+"Any name?" he asked quietly.
+
+"He gave none," the man answered; "but I think it is Sir Allan
+Beaumerville."
+
+"Ah!" Mr. Maddison felt a sudden relief which escaped him in that brief
+interjection. He was scarcely surprised at this visit. "I will go to
+him," he said. "Call me a hansom, Grey, will you?"
+
+The porter went outside, and Mr. Maddison crossed the hall and in a
+small, dimly-lit room, found himself face to face with his visitor.
+
+Sir Allan wore the brilliant uniform of a colonel in the yeomanry, for
+the dinner to which he was going was to be followed by an official
+reception. But he was very pale, and his manner had lost much of its
+studied nonchalance.
+
+"I followed you here," he began at once, "because, after your departure,
+I began to realize more fully the seriousness of what you told me."
+
+"Yes. I thought at the time that your indifference was a little
+remarkable," Mr. Maddison said quietly. The positions between them were
+entirely reversed. It was Sir Allan Beaumerville now who was placing a
+great restraint upon himself, and Mr. Maddison who was collected and at
+his ease.
+
+"I was taken by surprise," Sir Allan continued. "Since you left me I
+have been picturing all manner of horrible things. Have you fully
+realized that you may be arrested at any moment on this frightful
+charge?"
+
+"I have fully realized it," Mr. Maddison answered calmly. "In fact, when
+the porter told me that a gentleman wished to see me, I imagined at once
+that it had come."
+
+"And have you considered, too," Sir Allan continued, "how overwhelming
+the evidence is against you?"
+
+"I have considered it."
+
+"Then why do you linger here for one moment? Why don't you escape while
+you have the chance?"
+
+"Why should I?" Mr. Maddison answered. "I shall make no attempt to
+escape."
+
+Sir Allan's face grew a shade more pallid, and betrayed an agitation
+which he strove in vain to conceal.
+
+"But supposing you are arrested," he said quickly, "everything will go
+against you. What shall you do?"
+
+"I shall accept my fate, whatever it may be," was the quiet reply. "I
+prefer this to flight. Life would not be very valuable to me as a
+skulking criminal in a foreign country. If it be declared forfeit to the
+law, the law shall have it."
+
+There was a sudden choking in Sir Allan's voice, and an almost piteous
+look in his face.
+
+"God forbid it!" he cried; "God forbid it!"
+
+And suddenly this hardened man of the world, this professed cynic in an
+age of cynicism, sank down in a chair and buried his head in his arms on
+the green baize writing table, crushing the gold lace of his glittering
+uniform, and the immaculate shirt front, with its single diamond stud.
+It was only for a moment that a sudden rush of feeling overcame him. But
+when he looked up his face was haggard and he looked years older.
+
+"Does anyone--know of this?" he asked in a hoarse tone.
+
+Mr. Maddison shook his head.
+
+"No one whatever as yet," he said shortly. "If I am free to-morrow, I
+shall go to Italy."
+
+A sudden change swept into Sir Allan's face. He rose from his chair,
+drawing himself up to his full height. Again he was the stately,
+distinguished man of the world, with little feeling in his voice or
+looks. Between him and this other man in his sober black, with wasted
+face and thin stooping frame, there was a startling difference.
+
+"I have no doubt that you will do your duty, Mr. Maddison," he said
+coldly; "although, if I may be forgiven for saying so, your method
+appears to me a little quixotic, and, in a certain sense, singularly
+devoid of consideration for others. I will not detain you any longer."
+
+He wrapped his long cloak around him and left the room in dignified
+silence. Mr. Maddison followed him to the steps, and saw him get into
+his carriage. They parted without another word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+LOVERS
+
+
+Bernard Maddison kept his engagement that evening, and dined alone with
+Lady Thurwell and Helen. There had been some talk of going to the opera
+afterwards, but no one seemed to care about it, and so it dropped
+through.
+
+"For my part," Lady Thurwell said, as they sat lingering over their
+dessert, "I shall quite enjoy an evening's rest. You literary men, Mr.
+Maddison, talk a good deal about being overworked, but you know nothing
+of the life of a chaperon in the season. I tell Helen that she is sadly
+wanting in gratitude. We do everything worth doing--picture galleries,
+matinées, shopping, afternoon calls, dinners, dances, receptions--why,
+there's no slavery like it."
+
+Helen laughed softly.
+
+"We do a great deal too much, aunt," she said. "I am almost coming round
+to my father's opinion. You know, Mr. Maddison, he very seldom comes to
+London, and then only when he wants to pay a visit to his gunmaker, or
+to renew his hunting kit, or something of that sort. London life does
+not suit him at all."
+
+"I think your father a very wise man," he answered. "He seeks his
+pleasures in a more wholesome manner."
+
+She looked thoughtful.
+
+"Yes, I suppose, ethically, the life of a man about town is on a very
+low level. That is why one meets so few who interest one, as a rule.
+Don't you think all this society life very frivolous, Mr. Maddison?"
+
+"I am not willing to be its judge," he answered. "Yet it is a moral
+axiom that the higher we seek for our pleasures the greater happiness we
+attain to. I am an uncompromising enemy to what is known as fashionable
+society, so I will draw no conclusions."
+
+"It is intellect and artistic sensibility _versus_ sensuousness," yawned
+Lady Thurwell. "I'm a weak woman, and I'm afraid I'm too old to change
+my ways. But I'm on the wrong side of the argument all the same; at
+least, I should be if I took up the cudgels."
+
+"Which are the greater sinners, Mr. Maddison?" asked Helen, smiling,
+"men of the world or women of the world?"
+
+"Without doubt, men," he answered quickly. "However we may talk about
+the equality of the sexes, the fact remains that women are born into the
+world with lighter natures than men. They have at once a greater
+capacity, and more desire for amusement pure and simple. They wear
+themselves out in search of it, more especially the women of other
+nations. And after all, when their life has passed, they have never
+known the meaning of real happiness, of the pleasures that have no
+reaction, and that sweet elevation of mind that is only won by thought
+and study."
+
+"Poor women!" murmured Lady Thurwell. "Mr. Maddison, you are making me
+quite uncomfortable. Paint my sex in more glowing colors, please, or
+leave them alone. Remember that I am the only middle-aged woman here. I
+don't count Helen at all. I see that she is something of your way of
+thinking already. Traitress! Do light a cigarette, Mr. Maddison. I adore
+the perfume of them, and so does Helen."
+
+He took one from the box she passed him, and gravely lit it. They were
+doing everything in a very informal manner. Dinner had been served in
+the library, a cozy little apartment with a large open grate in which a
+cheerful fire had been lit. The ordinary table had been dispensed with
+in favor of a small round one just large enough for them, and now, with
+dessert on the table, they had turned their chairs round to the fire in
+very homelike fashion.
+
+"Do you know, I like this," Helen said softly. "I think it is so much
+better than a dinner party, or going out anywhere."
+
+"See what a difference the presence of a distinguished man of letters
+makes," laughed Lady Thurwell. "Now, only a few hours ago, we were
+dreading a very dull evening--Helen as well as myself. How nice it was
+of you to take pity on us, Mr. Maddison!"
+
+"Especially considering your aversion to our society," put in Helen.
+"Are not you really thinking it a shocking waste of time to be here
+talking to two very unlearned women instead of seeking inspiration in
+your study?"
+
+He looked at her reproachfully.
+
+"I know nothing of Lady Thurwell's tastes," he said; "but you can
+scarcely call yourself unlearned. You have read much, and you have
+thought."
+
+"A pure accident--I mean the thinking," she answered lightly. "If I had
+not been a country girl, with a mind above my station, intellectually,
+there's no telling what might have happened. Town life is very
+distracting, if you once get into the groove. Isn't it, aunt?"
+
+Lady Thurwell, who was a thorough little _dame de société_, rose with a
+pout and shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I'm not going to be hauled over the coals by you superior people any
+longer," she answered. "I shall leave you to form a mutual improvement
+society, and go and write some letters. When you want me, come into the
+drawing room, but don't come yet. Thank you, Mr. Maddison," she added,
+as he held the door open for her; "be merciful to the absent, won't
+you?"
+
+And so they were alone! As he closed the door and walked across the room
+to his seat, there came back to him, with a faint bewildering sweetness,
+something of the passionate emotion of their farewell in the pine grove
+on the cliff. He felt his pulses quicken, and his heart beat fast. It
+was in vain that the dying tenets of his old life, a life of
+renunciation and solitude, feebly reasserted themselves. At that moment,
+if never before, he knew the truth. The warm fresh sunlight lay across
+his barren life, brightening with a marvelous glow its gloomiest
+corners. The old passionless serenity, in which the human had been
+crushed out by the intellectual, was gone forever. He loved this woman.
+
+And she was very fair. He stole a long glance at her as she leaned back
+in her low wicker chair--the fond glance of a lover--and he felt his
+keenly artistic sense stirred from its very depths by her purely
+physical beauty. The firelight was casting strange gleams upon the deep
+golden hair which waved about her oval face and shapely forehead in
+picturesque unrestraint, and there was an ethereal glow in her exquisite
+complexion, a light in her eyes, which seemed called up by some unusual
+excitement.
+
+The setting of the picture, too, was perfect. Her ivory satin gown hung
+in long straight lines about her slim perfect outline with all the grace
+of Greek drapery, unrelieved save by one large bunch of Neapolitan
+violets nestling amongst the folds of old lace which filled up the open
+space of her bodice. He stood and looked at her with a strange confusion
+of feelings. A new life was burning in his veins, and for the first time
+since his boyhood he doubted his absolute self-mastery. Dared he stay
+there? Could he sit by her side, and bandy idle words with her?
+
+The silence had lasted for several minutes, and was beginning to possess
+something of that peculiar eloquence which such silences usually have.
+At last she raised her eyes, and looked at him standing motionless and
+thoughtful amongst the shadows of the room, and at the first glance he
+felt his strength grow weak, and his passionate love rising up like a
+living force. For there was in her eyes, and in her face, and in her
+voice when she spoke, something of that softening change which
+transfuses a woman's being when she loves, and lets the secret go from
+her--a sort of mute yielding, an abandonment, having in it a subtle
+essence of unconscious invitation.
+
+"Come and talk to me," she said softly. "Why do you stand out there?"
+
+He made one last despairing effort. With a strangely unnatural laugh, he
+drew a chair to her side and began to talk rapidly, never once letting
+his eyes rest upon her loveliness, striving to keep his thoughts fixed
+upon his subject, but all the time acutely conscious of her presence. He
+talked of many things with a restless energy which more than once caused
+her to look up at him in wonderment. He strove even to keep her from
+answering him, lest the magic of her voice should turn the trembling
+scale. For her sake he unlocked the inmost recesses of his mind, and all
+the rich store of artistic sensations, of jealously preserved memories,
+came flooding out, clothed with all that eloquence of jeweled phrase and
+daintily turned sentence which had made his writings so famous. For her
+sake, too, he sent his imagination traveling through almost untrodden
+fields, bringing back exquisite word pictures, and lifting the curtain
+before many a landscape of sun-smitten thought. All the music of sweet
+imagery and pure bracing idealism thrilled through her whole being. This
+was indeed a man to love! And as his speech grew slower, and she heard
+again that peculiar trembling in his tone, the meaning of which her
+woman's heart so easily interpreted, she began to long for those few
+words from him which she felt would be the awakening of a new life in
+her. He could not fail to notice even that slight change, and wondering
+whether her attention was commencing to flag, he paused and their eyes
+met in a gaze full of that deep tragical intensity which marks the birth
+between man and woman of any new sensation. The fire which glowed in his
+eyes told her of his love as plainly as the dreamy yet expressive light
+which gleamed in hers spoke also to him, and when her head drooped
+before the gathering passion in his face, and the faint color streamed
+into her cheeks, no will of his could keep the words back any longer. He
+felt his breath come quickly, and his heart almost stop beating. His
+pulses were quickening, and a strange new delight stole through him.
+Surely this was the end. He could bear no more.
+
+And it seemed as though it were indeed so, for with a sudden impulse he
+caught hold of her white, ringless hand, and drew it gently toward him.
+There was a slight instinctive resistance which came and went in a
+space of time only a thought could measure. Then she yielded it to him,
+and the sense of her touch stole through his veins with a sort of dreamy
+fascination, to give place in a moment to the overmastering fire of his
+great passion.
+
+Her face was turned away from him, but he saw the faint color deepen in
+her cheeks and the light quivering of the lip. And then a torrent of
+feeling, before which his last shaking barriers of resistance crumbled
+away like dust, swept from his heart, striking every chord of his nature
+with a crash of wild music.
+
+"Helen, my love, my love!" he cried.
+
+And she turned round, her eyes dim with trembling tears, yet glowing
+with a great happiness--turned around to feel his arms steal around her
+and hold her clasped to his heart in a mad sweet embrace. And it seemed
+to her that it was for this that she had lived.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A WOMAN'S LOVE
+
+
+It seemed to him in those few golden moments of his life that memory
+died away and time stood still. The past with its hideous sorrows, and
+the future over which it stretched its chilling hand, were merged in the
+present. Life had neither background nor prospect. The overpowering
+realization of the elysium into which he had stepped had absorbed all
+sense and all knowledge. They were together, and words were passing
+between them which would live to eternity in his heart.
+
+But the fairest summer sky will not be fair forever. Clouds will gather,
+and drive before them the sweetness and joy from the smiling heavens,
+and memory is a mistress who may slumber but who never sleeps. Those
+moments of entrancing happiness, although in one sense they lasted a
+lifetime, were in the ordinary measure of time but of brief duration.
+For with something of the overmastering suddenness with which his
+passion had found expression, there swept back into his heart all the
+still cold flow of icy reminiscence. She felt his arms loosen around
+her, and she raised her head, wondering, from his shoulder, wonder that
+turned soon to fear, for he rose up and stood before her white, and with
+a great agony in his dark eyes.
+
+"I have been mad!" he muttered hoarsely. "Forgive me! I must go!"
+
+She stood up by his side, pale, but with no fear or weakness in her
+look. She, too, had begun to realize.
+
+"Tell me one thing," she said softly. "You do--love me!"
+
+"God knows I do!" he answered. The words came from his heart with a
+nervous intensity which showed itself in his quivering lips, and the
+vibration of his tone. She knew their truth as surely as though she had
+seen them written in letters of fire, and that knowledge, or rather her
+absolute confidence in it, made her in a measure bold. The dainty
+exclusiveness which had half repelled, half attracted other men had
+fallen away from her. She stood before him a loving tearful woman, with
+something of that gentle shame which is twin sister to modesty burning
+in her cheeks.
+
+"Then I will not let you go," she said softly, taking both his hands in
+hers, and holding him tightly. "Nothing shall come between us."
+
+He looked into the love light which gleamed in her wet eyes, and
+stooping down he took her again into his arms and kissed her.
+
+"My darling!" he whispered passionately, "my darling! But you do not
+know."
+
+"Yes, I do," she answered, drawing him gently back to their old place.
+"You mean about what Rachel Kynaston said that awful night, don't you?"
+
+"More than that, alas!" he answered in a low tone. "Other people besides
+Rachel Kynaston have had suspicions about me. I have been watched, and
+while I was away, Falcon's Nest has been entered, and papers have been
+taken away."
+
+She was white with fear. This was Benjamin Levy's doing, and it was
+through her. Ought she to tell him? She could not! She could not!
+
+"But they do not--the papers, I mean--make it appear that----"
+
+"Helen," he interrupted, with his face turned away from her, "it is best
+that you should know the truth. Those papers reveal the story of a
+bitter enmity between myself and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. When you
+consider that and the other things, you will see that I may at any
+moment be arrested."
+
+A spasm of pain passed across her face. At that moment her thoughts were
+only concerned with his safety. The terrible suggestiveness of what he
+had told her had very little real meaning for her then. Her one thought
+was, could she buy those papers? If all her fortune could do it, it
+should be given. Only let him never know, and let him be safe!
+
+"Bernard," she whispered softly, "I am not afraid. It is very terrible,
+but it cannot alter anything. Love cannot come and go at our bidding. It
+is forever. Nothing can change that."
+
+He stopped her lips with passionate kisses, and then he tried to tear
+himself away. But she would not let him go. A touch of that complete
+self-surrender which comes even to the proudest woman when she loves had
+made her bold.
+
+"Have I not told you, Bernard," she whispered, "that I will not let you
+go?"
+
+"Helen, you must," he said hoarsely. "Who knows but that to-morrow I may
+stand in the dock, charged with that hideous crime?"
+
+"If they will let me, I shall gladly stand by your side," she answered.
+
+He turned away, and his shaking fingers hid his face from her.
+
+"Oh, this is too much for a man to bear!" he moaned. "Helen, Helen,
+there must be nothing of this between you and me."
+
+"Nothing between you and me!" she repeated with a ring of gentle scorn
+in her voice. "Bernard, do you know so little of women, after all? Do
+you think that they can play at love in this give-and-take fashion?"
+
+He did not answer. She stood up and passed one of her arms around his
+neck, and with the other hand gently disengaged his fingers from before
+his face.
+
+"Bernard, dearest, look at me. All things can be changed by fashion or
+expediency save a woman's love, and that is eternal. Don't think,
+please, of any of these terrible things that may be in store for us, or
+what other people would think or say. I want you to remember that love,
+even though it be personal love, is far above all circumstance. No power
+in this world can alter or change it. It belongs to that better part of
+ourselves which lifts us above all misfortune and trouble. You have
+given me a great happiness, Bernard, and you shall not take it away from
+me. Whatever happens to you, it is my right to share it. Remember, for
+the future, it is 'we,' not 'I.' You must not think of yourself alone in
+anything, for I belong now to everything that concerns you."
+
+And so it was that for the first time in his life Bernard Maddison, who
+had written much concerning them, much that was both faithful and
+beautiful, saw into the inner life of a true woman. Only for the man
+whom she loves will she thus lift the curtain from before that sweet
+depth of unselfishness which makes even the homeliest of her sex one of
+the most beautiful of God's creations; and he, if he be in any way a man
+of human sensibility and capacity, must feel something of that wondering
+awe, that reverence with which Bernard Maddison drank in the meaning of
+her words. The mute anxiety of her tearful gaze, the color which came
+and fled from her face--he understood all these signs. They were to him
+the physical, the material covering for her appeal. A life of grand
+thoughts, of ever-climbing ideas, of pure and lofty aims, had revealed
+to him nothing so noble and yet so sweetly human as this; had filled his
+being with no such heart-shattering emotion as swept through him at that
+moment. A woman's hand had lifted him out from his despair into a higher
+state, and there was a great humility in the silent gesture with which
+he yielded his will to hers.
+
+And then again there were spoken words between them which no chronicles
+should report, and a certain calm happiness took up its settled place in
+his heart, defiant of that despair which could not be driven out. Then
+came that reawakening to mundane things which seems like a very great
+step indeed in such cases. She looked at the clock, and gave a little
+start.
+
+"Bernard, it is nearly eleven o'clock," she cried. "We must go into the
+drawing-room at once. What will aunt think of us? You must come with me,
+of course; but you'd better say good night now. There, that will do,
+sir!"
+
+She drew away and smoothed her ruffled hair back from her forehead,
+looking ruefully in the glass at her tear-stained cheeks, and down at
+the crushed violets in her corsage.
+
+"May I have them?" he asked.
+
+She drew them out and placed them in his hand.
+
+"To-morrow----" she said.
+
+"To-morrow I must go into the land of violets," he interrupted.
+
+She turned round quickly.
+
+"What do you mean? You are not going away without my permission, sir?"
+
+"Then I must seek it," he answered, smiling. "You have given life such
+an exquisite sweetness for me, that I am making plans already to
+preserve it. My one hope lies in Italy."
+
+"How long should you be away?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Not a week," he answered. "If I am permitted to leave England, which I
+fear is doubtful, to-morrow, I can be back perhaps in five days."
+
+"Then you may go, Bernard," she whispered. "Take this with you, and
+think of me sometimes."
+
+She had drawn out a photograph of herself from a folding case on the
+mantelpiece, and he took it from her eagerly.
+
+"Nothing in the world could be so precious to me," he said.
+
+"For a novice you say some very nice things," she answered, laughing
+softly. "And now you must go, sir. No, you needn't come into the
+drawing-room; I really couldn't show myself with you. I'll make your
+excuses to my aunt. Farewell--love!"
+
+"Farewell--sweetheart!" he answered, hesitating for a moment over the
+words which seemed so strange to him. Then, as though loth to leave him,
+she walked down the hall by his side, and they looked out for a moment
+into the square. A footman was standing prepared to open the door, but
+Helen sent him away with a message to her maid.
+
+"Do you know why I did that?" she asked, her clasp tightening upon his
+arm.
+
+He shook his head, and looked down at her fondly.
+
+"I can't imagine, unless----"
+
+She glanced half fearfully behind and then up into his face again, with
+a faint blush stealing into her cheeks.
+
+"I want one more kiss, please."
+
+He looked into her soft trustful face, and he felt, with a sense almost
+of awe, the preciousness of such a love as this, a love which,
+comprehending the terrible period of anxiety through which he had to
+pass, was not ashamed to seek to sweeten it for him by the simple charm
+of such an offering. Then, at the sound of returning footsteps in the
+hall, he let go her hands, and with her fond farewell still lingering in
+his ears, he hurried out into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR. LEVY, JUNIOR, GOES ON THE CONTINENT
+
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy was standing in his favorite position before the
+office fireplace, with his legs a little apart, and his small keen eyes
+fixed upon vacancy. It was thus, in that very pose, and on that very
+hearthrug, that he had thought out more than one of those deep-laid
+schemes which had brought a certain measure of notoriety to the firm of
+which he was a shining light, and at that very moment he was engaged in
+deep consideration concerning the case in which his energies were at
+present absorbed.
+
+A few feet away, his father was carefully calculating, with the aid of a
+ready reckoner, the compound interest on a little pile of bills of
+exchange which lay before him. Every now and then he paused, and,
+looking up from his task, glanced cautiously into his son's perplexed
+face. Curiosity at length culminated in speech.
+
+"What was you thinking, Benjamin, my son?" he said softly. "The Miss
+Thurwell case is plain before us, is it not? There is nothing fresh, is
+there? No fresh business, eh, my son?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin started, and abandoned his reflections.
+
+"No; nothing fresh, dad. It was the Thurwell affair I was thinking of.
+Give me the keys, will you?"
+
+Mr. Levy leaned back in his chair and produced from his trousers pocket
+a jingling bunch of keys.
+
+Mr. Benjamin took them in thoughtful silence, and, opening the safe,
+drew out a packet of faded letters tied up with ribbon. From these he
+selected one, and carefully replaced the rest.
+
+"Those letters again," remarked his fond parent, chuckling. "Take care
+of them, Benjamin, take care of them. They was worth their weight in
+gold to us."
+
+"They're worth a great deal more than that," remarked Mr. Benjamin
+carelessly. "There's only one thing, dad, that puzzles me a bit."
+
+"It must be a rum thing, my boy, that does that," his fond parent
+remarked admiringly. "I never praise undeservedly, but I must say this,
+Benjamin, you've managed this Thurwell affair marvelously--marvelously!
+Come, let me see what it is that is too deep for you."
+
+He rose and looked over his son's shoulder at the letter which he was
+reading--one thin sheet of foreign note paper, covered with closely
+written lines of faint, angular writing, and emitting even now a
+delicate musky scent.
+
+"What is it, Benjamin--what is it?"
+
+His son laid his finger on a sentence toward the close of the letter,
+and read it aloud:--
+
+     "What that fear has been to me, and what it has grown into during my
+     sad lonely life, I cannot hope to make you understand. Always those
+     terrible words of vengeance ring in my ears as I heard them last.
+     They seem to roll over sea and land, and in the middle of the night,
+     and out in the sunlit street, I seem to hear them still. It is not
+     you I fear, Bernard, so much as him!"
+
+Mr. Levy listened, and nodded approvingly.
+
+"All is plain there, Benjamin, I think. The meaning is quite clear."
+
+Mr. Benjamin laid his finger upon the last sentence.
+
+"What do you make of that, dad?" he asked.
+
+Mr. Levy adjusted his spectacles and read it slowly.
+
+"'It is not for you I fear, Bernard, so much as him.' Tut, tut, that's
+simple enough," he declared. "This woman, whoever she may be, is afraid
+of a meeting between Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and Mr. Bernard Maddison, to
+give him his right name, and she remarks that it is for him she fears,
+and not for Sir Geoffrey. Quite right, too, considering the affectionate
+tone of these letters."
+
+"Yes, I suppose that's it," Mr. Benjamin remarked in an absent tone,
+folding up the letter, and putting it back amongst the rest.
+
+Mr. Levy watched him narrowly, and returned to his desk with a sense of
+injury. His son--his Benjamin--had discovered something which he was not
+going to confide to the parental ear. It was a blow.
+
+He was wondering whether it might have the desired effect if he were to
+produce a scrap of old yellow pocket handkerchief, and affect to be
+overcome, when they heard a hurried footstep outside. Both looked up
+anxiously. There was a quick knocking at the door, and a shabby-looking
+man dressed in black entered.
+
+"Well, Leekson, what news?" Mr. Benjamin asked quickly.
+
+"He's off," was the prompt reply. "Continent. Afternoon train. Waterloo,
+three o'clock."
+
+Mr. Benjamin's eyes sparkled.
+
+"I knew it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Job's over, Leekson. Get me a
+cab, and go to the office for your money."
+
+"You're going to let him go!" cried Mr. Levy piteously.
+
+"Not I. I'm going with him, dad. A fifty-pound note from the safe,
+quick."
+
+Mr. Levy gave it to him with trembling fingers.
+
+"Now, dad, listen to me," Benjamin said earnestly, reaching down his
+overcoat from the peg. "Miss Thurwell will be here some time to-day, I'm
+certain, to try and buy those letters. I've changed my mind about them.
+Sell."
+
+"Sell," repeated Mr. Levy, surprised. "I thought that that was what we
+were not to do."
+
+"Never mind, never mind. I'm playing a better game than that now,"
+continued Mr. Benjamin. "I'll leave it to you to make the bargain.
+There's no one can beat you at that, you know, dad."
+
+Mr. Levy acknowledged his son's compliment with a gratified smile.
+
+"Well, well, Benjamin, we'll say nothing about that. I'll do my best,
+you may be sure," he declared fervently.
+
+"I may as well just mention that I have ascertained how much money she
+has got," Mr. Benjamin went on. "She's worth, until her father dies,
+about fifteen thousand pounds. We won't be hard on her. Suppose we say
+five thousand the lowest, eh?"
+
+"All right, Benjamin, all right," the old man murmured, rubbing his
+hands softly together. "Five thousand pounds! My eye! And how long shall
+you be away?"
+
+"I can't quite tell, dad. Just keep your pecker up, and stick to the
+biz."
+
+"Yes, Ben, yes. And of course you can't stop to tell me about it now,
+but won't this five thousand pounds from the young lady about put an end
+to this little game, eh? And, if so, need you go following this Mr.
+Maddison all over the country, eh? An expensive journey, Ben. You've got
+that fifty-pound note, you know."
+
+Mr. Benjamin laughed contemptuously.
+
+"You'll never make a pile, you won't, dad," he exclaimed. "You're so
+plaguedly narrow minded. Listen here," he added, drawing a little closer
+to him, and looking round over his shoulder to be sure that no one was
+listening to him. "When I come back, I'll make you open your eyes. You
+think this thing played out, do you? Bah! The letters aren't worth
+twopence to us. When I come back from abroad, I'm going to commence to
+play this game in a manner that'll rather astonish you, and a certain
+other person. Ta-ta, guv'nor."
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy was a smart young man, but he had a narrow escape that
+afternoon, for as he was sauntering up and down the platform at
+Waterloo, whom should he see within a dozen yards of him but Mr.
+Maddison and Miss Thurwell. He had just time to jump into a third-class
+carriage, and spread a paper out before his face, before they were upon
+him.
+
+"Jove, that was a shave!" he muttered to himself. "Blest if I thought
+they were as thick as that. I wonder if she's going with him. No,
+there's no female luggage, and that's her maid hanging about behind
+there. Moses, ain't she a slap-up girl, and ain't they just spooney!
+D--d if he ain't kissed her!" he wound up as the train glided out of the
+station, leaving Helen Thurwell on the platform waving her handkerchief.
+"Well, we're off. So far, so good. I feel like winning."
+
+But, unfortunately for Mr. Benjamin, there was a third person in that
+train whom neither he nor Mr. Maddison knew of, who was very much
+interested in the latter. Had he only mentioned his name, or referred in
+the slightest possible way to his business abroad before Mr. Benjamin,
+that young gentleman would have promptly abandoned his expedition and
+returned to town. But, as he did not, all three traveled on together in
+a happy state of ignorance concerning each other; and Mr. Benjamin Levy
+was very near experiencing the greatest disappointment of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+HELEN DECIDES TO GO HOME
+
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy's surmise had been an accurate one. Late in the
+afternoon of that day, Helen Thurwell called at the little office off
+the Strand, and when she left it an hour later, she had in her pocket a
+packet of letters, and Mr. Levy had in his safe a check and promissory
+note for five thousand pounds. Both were very well satisfied--Mr. Levy
+with his money, and Helen with the consciousness that she had saved her
+lover from the consequences of what she now regarded as her great folly.
+
+She was to have dined out that evening with her aunt, but when the time
+to dress came, she pleaded a violent headache, and persuaded Lady
+Thurwell, who was a good-natured little woman, to take an excuse.
+
+"But, my dear Helen, you don't look one bit ill," she had ventured to
+protest, "and the Cullhamptons are such nice people. Are you sure that
+you won't come?"
+
+"If you please, aunt," she had begged, "I really do want to stay at home
+this evening;" and Lady Thurwell had not been able to withstand her
+niece's imploring tone, so she had gone alone.
+
+Helen spent the evening as she had planned to. She took her work down
+into the room where they had been the night before, and where this
+wonderful thing had happened to her. Then she leaned back in her low
+chair--the same chair--and gave herself up to the luxury of thought; and
+when a young woman does that she is very far gone indeed. It was all so
+strange to her, so bewildering, that she needed time to realize it.
+
+And as she sat there, her eyes, full of a soft dreamy light, fixed upon
+vacancy, and her lips parted in a happy smile, she felt a sudden longing
+to be back again upon the moorland cliffs round Thurwell Court, out in
+the open country with her thoughts. This town season with its monotonous
+round of gayety was nothing to her now. More than ever, in the enlarged
+and sweeter life which seemed opening up before her, she saw the
+littleness and enervating insipidity of it all. She would go down home,
+and take some books--the books he was fond of--and sit out on the cliffs
+by the sea and read and dream, and think over all he had said to her,
+and look forward to his coming; it should be there he would find her.
+They two alone would stand together under the blue sky, and wander about
+in the sunshine over the blossoming moors. Would not this be better than
+meeting him again in a crowded London drawing-room? She knew that he
+would like it best.
+
+So when Lady Thurwell returned from her party, and was sitting in her
+room in a very becoming dressing gown, yawning and thinking over the
+events of the evening, there was a little tap at the door, and Helen
+entered, similarly attired.
+
+"Please tell me all about it," she begged, drawing up a chair to the
+fire. "My headache is quite gone."
+
+"So I should imagine," remarked Lady Thurwell. "I never saw you look
+better. What have you been doing to yourself, child? You look like
+Aphrodite 'new bathed in Paphian wells.'"
+
+"If you mean to insinuate that I've had a bath," laughed Helen, "I admit
+it. Now, tell me all about this evening."
+
+Which of course Lady Thurwell did, and found a good deal to say about
+the dresses and the menu.
+
+"By the bye," she wound up, with a curious look at her niece, "Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was there, and seemed a good deal disappointed at the
+absence of a certain young lady."
+
+"Indeed!" answered Helen. "That was very nice of him. And now, aunt, do
+you know what I came in to say to you?"
+
+Lady Thurwell shook her head.
+
+"Haven't any idea, Helen. Has anyone been making love to you?"
+
+Helen shook her head, but the color gathered in her cheeks, and she took
+up a screen, as though to protect her face from the fire.
+
+"I want to go home, aunt. Don't look so startled, please. I heard from
+papa this morning, and he's not very well, and Lord Thurwell comes back
+to-morrow, so you won't be lonely, and I've really quite made my mind
+up. Town is very nice, but I like the country best."
+
+"Like the country best in May!" Lady Thurwell gasped. "My dear child,
+have you taken leave of your senses?"
+
+"Not quite, aunt," Helen answered, smiling. "Only it is as I say. I like
+the country best, and I would really rather go home."
+
+Lady Thurwell considered for a full minute. Being a very juvenile
+matron, she had by no means enjoyed her _rôle_ as chaperon to an
+acknowledged beauty. She had offered it purely out of good nature, and
+because, although only related by marriage--Lord Thurwell was the elder
+brother of Mr. Thurwell, of Thurwell Court, and the head of the
+family--still there was no one else to perform such a service for Helen.
+But if Helen did really not care for it, and wished to return to her
+country life, why there was no necessity for her to make a martyr of
+herself any longer.
+
+"You really mean this, Helen?"
+
+"I do indeed, aunt."
+
+"Then it is settled. Make your own arrangements. I have liked having
+you, child, and whenever you choose to come to me again you will be
+welcome. But of course, it is not everyone who cares for town life, and
+if you do not, you are quite right to detach yourself from it. I'm
+afraid I know several young men who'll take your sudden flight very much
+to heart; and one who isn't particularly young."
+
+"Nonsense!" laughed her niece. "There'll be no mourning on my account."
+
+"We shall see," remarked Lady Thurwell, sententiously. "If one person
+does not find his way down to Thurwell Court after you before long, I
+shall be surprised."
+
+"Please don't let anyone do anything so stupid, aunt," pleaded Helen
+with sudden warmth. "It would be--no good."
+
+Lady Thurwell lifted her eyebrows, and looked at her niece with a
+curious little smile.
+
+"Who is it?" she asked quietly.
+
+But Helen only laughed. Her secret was too precious to part with--yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+MR. THURWELL MAKES SOME INQUIRIES
+
+
+And so Helen had her own way, and went back to her home on the moors,
+where Mr. Thurwell, who had just finished his hunting season, was very
+glad to see her, although not a little surprised. But she told him no
+more than she had told her aunt, that she had no taste for London life.
+The time would soon come when he would know the whole truth, but until
+her lover's return the secret was her own.
+
+She had one hasty note from him, posted in Paris on his way to Italy,
+and though there were only a few lines in it, she treasured up the
+little scrap of paper very tenderly, for, such as it was, it was her
+first love letter. He had given her an address in the small town to
+which he was bound, and she noticed, with a slight wonder at the
+coincidence, that it was the same place where he had first seen her. She
+had written to him, and now there had come a pause. She had nothing to
+do but to wait.
+
+But though such waiting is at best but a tedious matter, those few days
+brought their own peculiar happiness to her. She would have found it
+impossible to have confided her secret to any human being; she had no
+bosom friend to whom she could go for sympathy. But her healthy,
+open-air life, her long solitary walks, and a certain vein of poetry
+which she undoubtedly possessed, had given her some of that passionate,
+almost personal, love of nature which is sweeter by far than any human
+friendship. For her those long stretches of wild moorland, with the dark
+silent tarns and far-distant line of blue hills, the high cliffs where
+the sea wind roared with all the bluster and fury of a late March, the
+sea itself with its ever-changing face, the faint streaks of brilliant
+color in the evening sky, or the wan glare of a stormy morning--all
+these things had their own peculiar meaning to her, and awoke always
+some echo of response in her heart. And it chanced that at that time all
+the sweet breezy freshness of a late spring was making glad the country
+which she loved, and the perfect sympathy of the season with her own
+happiness seemed to her very sweet, for it was springtime too in her
+heart. A new life glowed in her veins, and sometimes it seemed to her
+that she could see the vista of her whole future bathed in the warm
+sunlight of a new-born happiness. The murmuring pine groves, the gay
+reveling of the birds, the budding flowers and heath--all these things
+appealed to her with a strange sympathetic force. So she took long
+walks, and came home with sparkling eyes, and her cheeks full of a rich
+color, till her father wondered what had come to his proud silent
+daughter to give this new buoyancy to her frame, and added physical
+beauty to her face, which had once seemed to him a little too
+_spirituelle_ and ethereal.
+
+Once more Helen and her father sat at breakfast out on the sheltered
+balcony of Thurwell Court. Below them the gardens, still slightly coated
+with the early morning dew, were bathed in the glittering sunshine, and
+in the distance, and over the tops of the trees in the park, a slight
+feathery mist was curling upward. The sweet, fresh air, still a little
+keen, was buoyant with all the joyous exhilaration of spring, and
+nature, free at last from the saddened grip of winter, was reasserting
+itself in one glad triumphant chorus. Down in the park the slumberous
+cawing of the rooks triumphed over the lighter-voiced caroling of
+innumerable thrushes and blackbirds, and mingled with the faint humming
+of a few early bees, seemed to fill the air with a sweetly blended
+strain of glad music. It was one of those mornings typical of its own
+season, in which the whole atmosphere seems charged with quickening
+life. Summer with its warm luscious glow, and autumn with its clear calm
+repose, have their own special charms. But a spring morning, coming
+after the deep sadness of a hard winter, gains much by the contrast.
+There is overflowing energy and passionate joy in its newly beating
+pulses, the warm delight of reawakening life, happy to find the earth so
+fair a place, which the staider charms of a more developed season
+altogether lack.
+
+It was in some measure owing to this influence, and also to the fact
+that she held in her hand a letter from her lover, which her father had
+handed her without remark, but with a somewhat curious glance, that
+Helen was feeling very happy that morning. The last year had dealt
+strangely with her. Tragedy had thrown its startling, gloomy shadow
+across her life, and had left traces which could never be altogether
+wiped out. Anxieties of another sort had come, perplexities and strange
+unhappy doubts, although these last had burned with a fitful, uncertain
+flame and now seemed stilled for ever. But triumphing over all these was
+this new-born love, the great deep joy of a woman's life, so vast, so
+sweet and beautiful, that it transfuses her whole being, and seems to
+lift her into another world.
+
+And so Helen, leaning back in her chair, with her eyes wandering idly
+over the pleasant gardens and park below, to where, through a deep gap
+in the trees, was just visible a faint blue line of sea, was wrapped up
+very much in her own thoughts, and scarcely doing her duty toward
+entertaining her father. Indeed, she seemed almost unconscious of his
+presence until he looked up suddenly from a letter he was reading and
+asked her a question.
+
+"By the bye, Helen," he said, "I've meant to ask you something every day
+since you've been home, but I have always forgotten it. Who was that
+young man who came down here to help Johnson with the auditing, and who
+went away so suddenly? A _protégé_ of yours, I suppose, as he came here
+on your recommendation?"
+
+"Yes, I was interested in him," she answered, looking steadily away, and
+with a faint color in her cheeks. "Why do you ask? Did he not do his
+work properly?"
+
+"Oh, yes, he did his work very well, I believe," Mr. Thurwell said
+impatiently. "It was what he did after working hours, and which has just
+come to my notice, which makes me ask you. It seems he spent the whole
+of his spare time making covert, but I must say ingenious, inquiries
+respecting Sir Geoffrey's murder, and I am also given to understand that
+he paid Falcon's Nest an uninvited visit in the middle of the night.
+What does it all mean? Was it merely curiosity, or had he any object in
+it?"
+
+"I think--he had an object," she answered slowly.
+
+"Indeed!" Mr. Thurwell raised his eyebrows and waited for an
+explanation.
+
+"You remember, papa, that awful scene here when Rachel Kynaston died,
+and what her last words to me were?"
+
+"Yes, I remember perfectly," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely.
+
+"Well, at that time I could not help having just a suspicion that Mr.
+Brown must be mixed up in it in some way, and it seemed to me that I
+should not be quite at ease if I let matters go on without doing
+anything, so I--well, this young man came down here to see whether he
+could find out anything."
+
+Mr. Thurwell seldom frowned at his daughter, of whom he was secretly a
+little afraid, but he did so now. He was seriously angry.
+
+"It was not a matter for you to have concerned yourself in at all," he
+said, rising from his seat. "At least, I should have been consulted."
+
+"It was all very foolish, I know," she admitted humbly.
+
+"It was worse than foolish; it was wrong and undutiful," he declared. "I
+am astonished that my daughter should have mixed herself up with such
+underhand work. And may I ask why I was kept in ignorance?"
+
+"Because you would not have allowed me to do what I did," she said
+quietly, with downcast eyes. "I thought it was my duty. I have been
+punished--punished severely."
+
+He softened a little, and resumed his seat. She was certainly very
+contrite. He was silent for a moment or two, and then asked her a
+question.
+
+"Did this young man--detective, I suppose he was--find out anything
+about Mr. Brown?"
+
+She looked up, a little surprised at the curiosity in his tone.
+
+"Why, papa, it was I who found out how stupid I had been," she said.
+"When I discovered that our mysterious tenant was Bernard Maddison, of
+course I saw the absurdity of suspecting him at once."
+
+Mr. Thurwell moved a little uneasily in his chair.
+
+"He did not find out anything, then?" he asked.
+
+She was silent. She had not expected this, and she scarcely knew how to
+answer.
+
+"He found out what Mr. Brown--I mean Mr. Maddison--himself told me, that
+he had known Sir Geoffrey abroad."
+
+"Nothing more?"
+
+"I did not ask. To tell the truth, I was not interested. The idea of Mr.
+Maddison being connected with such a crime is simply ridiculous. I was
+heartily sorry that I had ever taken any steps at all."
+
+Mr. Thurwell lit a cigarette, and drew his remaining letters toward him.
+
+"I must confess," he said slowly, "that when his house was searched in
+my presence, and all that we discovered was that Mr. Brown was really
+Bernard Maddison, I felt very much as you feel; and, as you no doubt
+remember, I went out of my way to be civil to the man, and brought him
+up here to dine. But since then things have cropped up, and I'm bound to
+say that it looks a little queer. I hear that young man of yours told
+several people that he had in his pocket what would bring Mr. Brown to
+the scaffold any day."
+
+"It is not true," she answered in a low firm tone. "I know that it is
+not true."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I hope not, I'm sure. Still, I'd rather he did not come back here
+again. Some one must have done it, you see, and if it was a stranger,
+he must have been a marvelous sort of fellow to come into this lonely
+part of the country, and go away again without leaving a single trace."
+
+"Criminals are all clever at disguises," she interposed.
+
+"Doubtless; but they have yet to learn the art of becoming invisible,"
+he went on drily. "I'm afraid it's no use concealing the fact that
+things look black against Maddison, and there is more than a whisper in
+the county about it. If he's a wise fellow, he'll keep away from here."
+
+"He will not," she answered. "He will come back. He is innocent!"
+
+Mr. Thurwell saw the rising flush in his daughter's face, but he had no
+suspicion as to its real cause. He knew that Bernard Maddison was one of
+her favorite authors, and he put her defence of him down to that fact.
+He was not a particularly warm advocate on either side, and suddenly
+remembering his unopened letters, he abandoned the discussion.
+
+Helen, whose calm happiness had been altogether disturbed, rose in a few
+minutes with the intention of making her escape. But her father, with an
+open letter in his hand, checked her.
+
+"Have you been seeing much of Sir Allen Beaumerville in town, Helen?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes, a great deal. Why?" she asked.
+
+"He's coming down here," Mr. Thurwell said. "He asks whether we can put
+him up for a night or two, as he wants to do some botanizing. Of course
+we shall be very pleased. I did give him a general invitation, I
+remember, but I never thought he'd come. You'll see about having some
+rooms got ready, Helen!"
+
+"Yes, papa, I'll see to it," she answered, moving slowly away.
+
+What could this visit in the middle of the season mean? she wondered
+uneasily. It was so unlike Sir Allan to leave town in May. Could it be
+that what her aunt had once laughingly hinted at was really going to
+happen? Her cheeks burned at the very thought. She liked Sir Allan, and
+she had found him a delightful companion, but even to think of any other
+man now in such a connection seemed unreal and grotesque. After all, it
+was most improbable. Sir Allan had only shown her the attention he
+showed every woman who pleased his fastidious taste.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE VISITS THE COURT
+
+
+On the following day Sir Allan duly arrived, and in a very short space
+of time Helen's fears had altogether vanished. His appearance was
+certainly not that of an anxious wooer. He was pale and haggard and
+thin, altogether a different person to the brilliant man about town who
+was such a popular figure in society. Something seemed to have aged him.
+There were lines and wrinkles in his face which had never appeared there
+before, and an air of restless depression in his manner and bearing
+quite foreign to his former self.
+
+On the first evening Mr. Thurwell broached some plans for his
+entertainment, but Sir Allan stopped him at once.
+
+"If I may be allowed to choose," he said, "I should like to be
+absolutely quiet for a few days. London life is not the easiest in the
+world, and I'm afraid I must be getting an old man. At any rate I am
+knocked up, and I want a rest."
+
+"You have come to the right place for that," Mr. Thurwell laughed. "You
+could live here for months and never see a soul if you chose. But I'm
+afraid you'll soon be bored."
+
+"I'm not afraid of that," Sir Allan answered quietly. "Besides, my
+excuse was not altogether a fiction. I really am an enthusiastic
+botanist, and I want to take up my researches here just where I was
+obliged to leave them off so suddenly last year."
+
+Mr. Thurwell nodded.
+
+"I remember," he said; "you were staying at Mallory, weren't you, when
+that sad affair to poor Kynaston happened?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Sir Allan moved his chair a little, as though to escape from the warmth
+of the fire, and sat where the heavily shaded lamp left his face in the
+shadow.
+
+"Yes, that was a terrible affair," he said in a low tone; "and a very
+mysterious one. Nothing has ever been heard of the murderer, I suppose?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"And there are no rumors, no suspicions?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked uneasily around, as though to satisfy himself that
+there were no servants lingering in the room.
+
+"It is scarcely a thing to be talked about," he said slowly; "but there
+have been things said."
+
+"About whom?"
+
+"About my tenant at Falcon's Nest--Bernard Maddison, as he turned out to
+be."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked at his guest wonderingly. He could not quite make up
+his mind whether he was profoundly indifferent or equally interested.
+His tone sounded a little cold.
+
+"There was a fellow down here in my employ," continued Mr. Thurwell,
+lighting a fresh cigar, "who turns out to have been a spy or detective
+of some sort. Of course I knew nothing of it at the time--in fact, I've
+only just found it out; but it seems he ransacked Falcon's Nest and
+discovered some papers which he avowed quite openly would hang Mr.
+Maddison. But what's become of him I don't know."
+
+"I suppose he didn't disclose the nature of the papers?" Sir Allan asked
+quietly.
+
+"No, he didn't go as far as that. By the bye, you know every one,
+Beaumerville. Who is this Bernard Maddison? Of course I know all about
+his writing and that; but what family is he of? He is certainly a
+gentleman."
+
+Sir Allan threw away his cigarette, and rose.
+
+"I think I have heard once, but I don't remember for the moment. Miss
+Helen promised us a little music, didn't she?" he added. "If you are
+ready, shall we go and remind her?"
+
+Sir Allan brought the conversation to an end with a shrug of his
+shoulders, and during the remainder of his stay Mr. Thurwell noticed
+that he carefully avoided any reopening of it. Evidently his guest has
+no taste for horrors.
+
+Sir Allan rose late on the following morning, and until lunch-time
+begged for the use of the library, where he remained writing letters and
+reading up the flora of the neighborhood. Early in the afternoon he
+appeared equipped for his botanizing expedition.
+
+"Helen shall go with you and show you the most likely places," Mr.
+Thurwell had said at luncheon. But though Sir Allan had bowed
+courteously, and had expressed himself as charmed, he had not said
+another word about it, so when the time came he started alone. On the
+whole Helen, although she was by no means ill-pleased, was not a little
+puzzled. In London, when it was sometimes difficult to obtain a place by
+her side at all, Sir Allan had been the most assiduous and attentive of
+cavaliers; but now that they were quite alone in the country, and her
+company was even offered to him, he showed himself by no means eager to
+avail himself of it. On the contrary, he had deliberately preferred
+doing his botanizing alone. Well, she was quite satisfied, she thought,
+with a little laugh. It was far better this way than the other. Still
+she was puzzled.
+
+Later in the afternoon she started for her favorite walk alone. She
+nearly always chose the same way along the cliffs, through the fir
+plantation, and sometimes as far as the hill by the side of which was
+Falcon's Nest. It was a walk full of associations for her, associations
+which had become so dear a part of her life that she always strove to
+heighten them even by choosing the same hour of the day for her walk as
+that well-remembered one when they had stood hand-in-hand for a single
+moment in the shadows of the darkening plantation. And again, as it had
+done many times before, her heart beat fast, and sweet memories began to
+steal back to her as she passed under those black waving branches
+moaning slightly in the evening breeze, and pressed under foot the brown
+leaves which in a sodden mass carpeted the winding path. Yes, it was
+here by that tall slender fir that they had stood for that one moment of
+intense happiness, when the thunder of the sea filling the air around
+them had almost forbidden speech, and the strange light had flashed in
+his dark eyes. She passed the spot with slow, lingering steps and
+quickening pulses, and opening the little hand-gate, climbed slowly up
+the cliff.
+
+At the summit she paused and looked around. A low grey mist hung over
+the moor, and twilight had cast its mantle of half-veiled obscurity over
+sea and land. A wind too had sprung up, blowing her ulster and skirts
+around her, and driving the mist across the moor in clouds of small,
+fine rain. Before her she could just see the dim outline of the opposite
+hill, with its dark patch of firs, and Falcon's Nest, bare and distinct,
+close up against its side. The wind and the rain blew against her, but
+she took no heed. All personal discomforts seemed so little beside these
+memories tinged with such a peculiar sweetness. It is a fact that a
+woman is able to extract far more pleasure from memories than a man, for
+there is in his nature a certain impatience which makes it impossible
+for him to keep his thought fixed steadfastly upon the past. The vivid
+flashes of memory which do come to him only incite a great restlessness
+for its renewal, which, if it be for the time impossible, is only
+disquieting and discontenting. But for a woman, her love itself, even
+though it be for the time detached from its object, is a sweet and
+precious thing. She can yield herself up to its influence, can steep her
+mind and soul in it, till a glow of intense happiness steals through her
+whole frame; and hence her patience during separation is so much greater
+than a man's.
+
+And it was so to a certain extent with Helen. Those few moments of
+intense abstraction had their own peculiar pleasure for her, and it was
+only the sound of the far-off clock borne by the wind across the moor
+from Thurwell Court which recalled her to herself. Then she started, and
+in a moment more would have been on her way home.
+
+But that lingering farewell glance toward Falcon's Nest suddenly changed
+into a startled fearful gaze. Her heart beat fast, and she took an
+involuntary step forward. There was no doubt about it. A dim moving
+light shone from the lower windows of the cottage.
+
+Her first wild thought was that her lover had himself returned, and a
+thrill of intense joy passed through her whole being, only to die away
+before the cold chill of a heart-sickening dread. Was it not far more
+likely to be an intruder of the type of Benjamin Levy, a spy or emissary
+of the law, searching amongst his papers as Benjamin Levy had done, for
+the same hideous reason. Her heart sank with fear, and then leaped up
+with the fierce defensive instinct of a woman who sees her lover's
+enemies working for his ruin. She did not hesitate for an instant, but
+walked swiftly along the cliff-side towards that tremulous light.
+
+The twilight was fast deepening, and the cold grey tint of the dull
+afternoon was gradually becoming blotted out into darkness. As she drew
+nearer to her destination, the low moaning of the sea below became
+mingled with the melancholy sighing of the wind amongst the thick fir
+trees which overhung the cottage. The misty rain blew in her face and
+penetrated her thick ulster. Everything around was as dreary and lonely
+as it could be. The only sign of any human life was that faint
+glimmering light now stationary, as though the searcher whoever he might
+be, had found what he wanted, and had settled down in one of the rooms.
+
+As she drew nearer she saw which it was, and trembled. All the rest of
+the cottage was in black darkness. The light shone only from the window
+of that little inner study on the ground floor.
+
+She had passed through the gate, and with beating heart approached the
+window. A few yards away she paused and looked in.
+
+A candle was burning on a small bracket, and, though its light was but
+dim, it showed her everything. The cabinet was open, and papers were
+strewn about, as though thrown right and left in a desperate search;
+and, with his back to her, a man was seated before it, his bared head
+resting upon his arms, and his whole attitude full of the passionate
+abandonment of a great despair. She had but one thought. It was her
+lover returned, and he needed her consolation. With a new light in her
+face she turned and moved softly toward the front door. As she reached
+the threshold she paused and drew back. There was the sound of footsteps
+inside.
+
+She stepped behind a bush and waited. In a moment the door of the
+cottage was thrown suddenly open, and the tall figure of a man stood in
+the entrance. For one moment he hesitated. Then with a sudden passionate
+gesture he raised his hands high above his head, and she heard a long
+deep moan burst from his quivering lips.
+
+The pity which swelled up in her heart she kept back with a strong hand.
+A strange bewilderment was creeping over her. She had seen only the dark
+outline of the figure, but surely it was not the figure of her lover.
+And then she held her breath, and walking swiftly away, passing so close
+to her that she could look into his white, strained face, Sir Allan
+Beaumerville strode down the garden, and disappeared in the shadows of
+the plantation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE SCENE CHANGES
+
+
+The midday sun had risen into a sky of deep cloudless blue, and a
+silence almost as intense as the silence of night rested upon the earth.
+No one was abroad, no one seemed to have anything particular to do. Far
+away on the vine-covered slopes a few peasants were lazily bending over
+their work, the bright garments of their picturesque attire standing out
+like little specks of brilliant coloring against the dun-colored
+background. But in the quaint old-fashioned town itself no one was
+astir. One solitary Englishman made his way alone and almost unnoticed
+through the queer zig-zag streets, up the worn grey steps by the famous
+statute of Minerva, and on to the terraced walk, fronting which were the
+aristocratic villas of the little Italian town.
+
+It was a solitude which was pleasing to him, for it was very evident
+that he was no curious tourist, or casual visitor of any sort. His eyes
+were full of that eager half-abstracted look which so clearly denotes
+the awakening of old associations, quickened into life by familiar
+surroundings; and, indeed, it was so. To Bernard Maddison, every stone
+in that quietly sleeping, picturesque old town spoke with a language of
+its own. The very atmosphere, laden with the sultry languorous heat of a
+southern sun, seemed charged with memories. Their influence was strong
+upon him, and he walked like a man in a dream, until he reached what
+seemed to be his destination, and here he paused.
+
+He had come to the end of the terraced walk, the evening promenade of
+the whole town. Before him was a small orange grove, whose aromatic
+odor, faintly penetrating the still air, added one more to his stock of
+memories. On his right hand was a grey stone wall, worn and tottering
+with age, and overhung with green creepers and shrubs, reaching over and
+hanging down from the other side, and let into it, close to him, was a
+low nail-studded door of monastic shape, half hidden by a luxurious
+drooping shrub, from amongst the foliage of which peeped out star-like
+clusters of soft scarlet flowers.
+
+For many moments he stood before that door, with his hand resting upon
+the rusty latch, lingering in a sort of apathy, as though he were
+unwilling to disturb some particular train of thought. Then a
+mellow-sounding bell from a convent in the valley below startled him,
+and immediately he lifted the latch before him. There was no other
+fastening, and the door opened. He stepped inside, and carefully
+reclosed it.
+
+He was in a garden, a garden of desolation, which nature seemed to have
+claimed for her own and made beautiful. It was a picture of luxuriant
+overgrowth. The grass on the lawns had become almost a jungle. It had
+grown up over the base of the deep grey stone basins of exquisite shape
+and carving, the tiny statuettes tottering into ruin, and the worn old
+sun-dial, across which the slanting rays of the sun still glanced.
+Weeds, too, had crept up around them in picturesque toils, weeds which
+had started to destroy, but remained to adorn with all the sweet abandon
+of unrestrained growth. Some of them had put forth brilliant blossoms
+of many hues, little spots of exquisite coloring against the sombre hue
+of the stonework and the deep green of the leaves. Everywhere nature had
+triumphed over science and skill. Everything was changed, and nature had
+shown herself a more perfect gardener than man. The gravel paths were
+embedded with soft green moss, studded with clumps of white and purple
+violets, whose faint fragrance, mingled with the more exotic scent of
+other plants, filled the warm air with a peculiar dreamy perfume.
+Nowhere had the hand of man sought to restrain or to develop. Nature had
+had her own way, and had made for herself a fair garden.
+
+A little overcome by the heat, and a little, too, by swiftly stirring
+memories, Bernard Maddison sank down upon a low iron seat, under the
+shade of a little clump of almond trees, and covered his face with his
+hands. And there came to him, as he sat there, something more vivid than
+an ordinary day-dream, something so real and minutely played out, that
+afterwards it possessed for him all the freshness and significance of a
+veritable trance. It seemed, indeed, as if some mysterious force had
+drawn aside the curtain of the past in his mind, and had bidden him look
+out once more upon the moving figures in a living drama.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The warm sunlight faded from the sky, the summer heat died out of the
+air, the soft velvety mantle of a southern night lay upon the brooding
+land. Many stars were burning in the deep-blue heavens, and the horned
+moon, golden and luminous, hung low down in the west.
+
+Pale, and with the fever of a great anger burning in his dry eyes, a
+man sat at the open window of the villa yonder, watching. Around him
+were scattered all the signs of arduous brain labor, books, manuscripts,
+classical dictionaries, and works of reference. But his pen had fallen
+from his hand, and he was doing nothing. He sat there idle, gazing out
+upon the fantastic shapes and half-veiled gloom of this fair garden. Its
+rich balmy odors, and the fainter perfume of rarer plants which floated
+languidly in through the open window, were nothing to him. He was barely
+conscious of the sweet delights of the voluptuous summer night. He was
+watching with his eyes fixed upon the east, where morning would soon be
+breaking.
+
+It came at last--what he was waiting for. There was a slight click of
+the latch from the old postern door in the wall, and the low murmur of
+voices--a man's, pleading and passionate, and a woman's, half gay, half
+mocking. Then the door opened and shut, and a tall fair lady walked
+leisurely up toward the villa.
+
+She wore no hat, but a hooded opera-cloak was thrown loosely over her
+shoulders, and as she strolled up the path, pausing every now and then
+to carelessly gather a handful of the drooping lilies, whose perfume
+made faint the heavy night air, its folds parted, and revealed brief
+glimpses of soft white drapery and flashing jewels on her bosom and in
+her hair. Her feet, too, were cased in tiny white satin slippers, which
+seemed scarcely to press the ground, so lightly and gracefully she
+walked. Altogether she was very fair to look upon--the fairest sight in
+all that lovely garden.
+
+Not so seemed to think the man who stood back in the shadow of the
+window, waiting for her. His white face was ghastly with passion, and
+his fingers were nervously interlaced in the curtains. It was only with
+a supreme effort that he at last flung them from him, and moved forward
+as though to meet her.
+
+She saw him standing there, pale and rigid, like a carved statue, save
+for the passion which burned in his eyes, and for a moment she
+hesitated. Then, with the resigned air of one who makes up her mind to
+face something disagreeable, she shrugged her shoulders, and throwing
+away the handful of lilies she had gathered, advanced toward him.
+
+They neither of them spoke until they stood face to face. Then, as his
+motionless form prevented her stepping through the window, and barred
+her further progress, she came to a standstill, and addressed him
+lightly.
+
+"Yours is a strange welcome home, _mon ami_," she said. "Why do you
+stand there looking so fierce?"
+
+He pointed with shaking fingers away toward the east, where a faint
+gleam of daylight was lightening the sky.
+
+"Where have you been?" he asked harshly. "Can you not see that it is
+morning? All night long I have sat here watching for you. Where have you
+been?"
+
+"You know very well where I have been," she answered carelessly. "To the
+ball at the Leon d'Or. I told you that I was going."
+
+"Told me! You told me! Did I not forbid it? Did I not tell you that I
+would not have you go?"
+
+"Nevertheless, I have been," she answered lightly. "It was an
+engagement, and I never break engagements."
+
+"An engagement? You, with no chaperon, to go to a common ball at a
+public room! An engagement. Yes, with your lover, I presume."
+
+She looked at him steadily, and yawned in his face.
+
+"You are in a bad temper, I fear," she said. "At least, you are very
+rude. Let me pass, will you? I am tired of standing here."
+
+He was beside himself with passion, and for a second or two he did not
+speak. But when at last the words came, they were clear and distinct
+enough.
+
+"Into this house you shall never pass again," he said. "You have
+disregarded my wishes, you have disobeyed my orders, and now you are
+deceiving me. You are trifling with my honor. You are bringing shame
+upon my name. Go and keep your assignations from another roof. Mine has
+sheltered your intrigues long enough!"
+
+The hand which had kept together her opera-cloak relinquished its grasp,
+and it fell back upon her shoulders. The whole beauty of her sinuous
+figure, in its garb of dazzling white, stood revealed. The moonlight
+gleamed in her fair hair, bound up with one glittering gem, shone softly
+upon her white swelling throat and bare arms, and flashed in her dark
+eyes, suddenly full of passion. Her right hand was nervously clasped
+around a little morsel of lace handkerchief which she had drawn from the
+folds of her corsage, and which seemed to make the air around heavy with
+a sweet perfume.
+
+"You are angry, and you do not know what you are saying," she said. "It
+is true that you forbade me to go to-night--but you forbid everything. I
+cannot live your life. It is too dull, too _triste_. It is cruel of you
+to expect it. Let me go in now. If you want to scold, you can do so
+to-morrow."
+
+She stepped forward, but he laid his hands upon her dainty shoulders and
+pushed her roughly back.
+
+"Never!" he cried savagely. "Go and live what life you choose. This is
+no home for you. Go, I say!"
+
+She looked at him, her lovely eyes turned pleadingly upwards, and her
+lips trembling.
+
+"You are mad!" she said. "Am I not your wife? You have no right to keep
+me here. And my boy, too. Let me pass."
+
+He did not move, nor did he show any sign of yielding. He stood there
+with his hand stretched out in a threatening gesture toward her, his
+face pale and mute as marble, but with the blind rage still burning in
+his dark eyes.
+
+"What is the boy, or what am I to you?" he cried hoarsely. "Begone,
+woman!"
+
+Still she did not seem to understand.
+
+"Where would you have me go?" she asked. "Is not this my home? What have
+I----"
+
+"Go to your lover!" he interrupted fiercely. "Tell him that your husband
+is no longer your tool. He will take you in."
+
+A burning color streamed into her delicate cheeks, and a sudden passion
+blazed in her eyes. She drew herself up to her full height and turned
+upon him with the dignity of an empress.
+
+"Listen to me one moment," she said. "Ask yourself whether you have ever
+tried to make my life a happy one. Did I ever pretend to care for books
+and solitude? Before I married you I told you that I was fond of change
+and gaiety and life, and you promised me that I should have it. Ask
+yourself how you have kept that promise. You deny me every pleasure, and
+drive me to seek them alone. I am weary of your jealous furies, and
+your evil temper. As God looks down upon us at this moment, I have been
+a faithful wife to you; but if you will add to all your cruelties this
+cowardly, miserable indignity, then I will never willingly look upon
+your face again, and what sin I do will be on your head, not mine. Will
+you stand aside and let me pass?"
+
+"Never!" he answered. "Never!"
+
+She drew her mantle round her shoulders, and turned her back upon him
+with a contemptuous gesture.
+
+"You have made me what I shall be," she said. "The sin be with you. For
+several weary years you have made me miserable. Now you have made me
+wicked."
+
+She walked away into the perfumed darkness, and presently he heard the
+gate close behind her. He listened frantically, hoping to hear her
+returning steps. It was in vain. All was silent. Then he felt his limbs
+totter, and he sank back on a couch, and buried his face amongst the
+cushions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+BENJAMIN LEVY RUNS HIS QUARRY TO EARTH
+
+
+The slumberous afternoon wore slowly away. A slight breeze rustled
+amongst the cypresses and the olive trees, and the air grew clearer. The
+sun was low in the heavens, and long shadows lay across the brilliant
+patches of flowers, half wild, half cultivated, and on the moss-grown
+walks.
+
+Still Bernard Maddison made no movement. It may have been that he shrunk
+from what was before him, or it may have been that he had some special
+purpose in thus calling up those broken visions of the past into his
+mind. For, as he sat there, they still thronged in upon him, disjointed
+and confused, yet all tinged with that peculiar sadness which seemed to
+have lain heavy upon his life.
+
+Again the memory of those long lonely days of his boyhood stole in upon
+him. He thought of that terrible day when his father stood by his
+bedside, and had bidden him in an awful voice ask no more for his
+mother, and think of her only as dead; and he remembered well the chill
+of cold despair with which he had realized that that fair, sweet woman,
+who had called him her little son, and who had accepted his devoted
+boyish affection with a sort of amused pleasure, was gone from him for
+ever. Henceforth life would indeed be a dreary thing, alone with that
+cold, silent student, with whom he was almost afraid to speak, and whom
+he scarcely ever addressed by the name of father.
+
+A dreary time it had indeed been. His memory glanced lightly over the
+long monotonous years with a sort of shuddering recoil. He thought of
+his father's frequent absences, and of his return from one of them in
+the middle of a winter's night, propped up in an invalid carriage, with
+a surgeon in attendance, and blood-stained bandages around his leg. And
+he thought of a night when he had sat up with him while the nurse
+rested, and one name had ceaselessly burst from those white feverish
+lips, laden with fierce curses and deep vindictive hate, a name which
+had since been written into his memory with letters of fire. Further and
+further on his memory dragged him, until he himself, a boy no longer,
+had stood upon the threshold of man-hood, and on one awful night had
+heard from his father's lips that story which had cast its shadow across
+his life. Then for the first time had sprung up of some sort of sympathy
+between them, sympathy which had for its foundation a common hatred, a
+common sense of deep, unpardonable wrong. The oath which his father had
+sworn with trembling lips the son had echoed, and in dread of the
+vengeance of these two, the man against whom they had sworn it cut
+himself off from his fellows, and skulked in every out-of-the-way corner
+of Europe, a hunted being in peril of his life. There had come a great
+change over their lives, and they had drifted farther apart again. He
+himself had gone out into the world something of a scholar and something
+of a pedant, and he had found that all his ideas of life had lain
+rusting in his country home, and that he had almost as much to unlearn
+as to learn. With ample means, and an eager thirst for knowledge, he had
+passed from one to another of the great seats of learning of the world.
+But his lesson was not taught him at one of them. He learned it not
+amongst the keen conflict of intellect at the universities, not in the
+toils of the great vague disquiet which was throbbing amongst all
+cultured and artistic society, but in the eternal silence of Mont Blanc
+and her snow-capped Alps, and the whisperings of the night winds which
+blew across the valleys. At Heidelberg he had been a philosopher, in
+Italy he had been a scholar, and in Switzerland he became a poet. When
+once again he returned to the more feverish life of cities he was a
+changed man. He looked out upon life now with different eyes and
+enlarged vision. Passion had given place to a certain studied calm, a
+sort of inward contemplativeness which is ever inseparable from the true
+artist. Life became for him almost too impersonal, too little human.
+Soon it threatened to become one long abstraction, accompanied
+necessarily with a weakened hold on all sensuous things, and a
+corresponding decline in taste and appreciation. One thing had saved him
+from relapsing into the nervous dreamer, and the weaver of bright but
+aimless fancies. He had loved, and he had become a man again, linked to
+the world and the things of the world by the pulsations of his passion
+and his strong deep love. Was it well for him or ill, he wondered. Well,
+it might have been save for the deadly peril in which he lived, and
+which seemed closing fast around him. Well, it surely would have
+been....
+
+Lower and lower the sun had sunk, till now its rim touched the horizon.
+The evening breeze stealing down from the hills had gathered strength
+until now it was almost cold. The distant sound of footsteps, and the
+gay laughing voices of the promenaders from the awakening town broke the
+deep stillness which had hung over the garden and recalled Bernard
+Maddison from thoughtland. He rose to his feet, a little stiff, and
+walked slowly along the path towards the villa. At that same moment, Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, tired and angry with his long waiting, stole into the
+garden by the postern-gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+BENJAMIN LEVY WRITES HOME
+
+
+     "_June 10th_.
+
+     "MY DEAR DAD:--
+
+     "I wired you yesterday afternoon, immediately on our arrival at
+     this outlandish little place, to write to me at the hotel Leon
+     d'Or, for it seems that we have reached our destination--by we, of
+     course, I mean Mr. Maddison and myself, though he has not the least
+     idea of my presence here. Well, this is a queer old crib, I can
+     tell you, and the sooner we are on the move again the better I
+     shall be pleased. The fodder is odious, not fit for a pig, and the
+     wine is ditto. What wouldn't I give for a pint of Bass like they
+     draw at the Blue Boar? Old England for me is my motto!
+
+     "And now to biz! So far all's well. I'm on the right tack and no
+     mistake. We got here middle day, yesterday--came over the hills
+     from the railway in a regular old bone-shaker of a coach. My
+     tourist get-up is quite the fig, and though I caught Mr. M----
+     eyeing me over a bit supercilious like once, he didn't recognize me
+     if ever he did see me down at Thurwell Court, which I don't think
+     he did. Well, directly we got here, off started Mr. M---- through
+     the town, and after a bit I followed. Lord! it was hot and no
+     mistake, but he didn't seem to notice it, though the perspiration
+     was streaming down my back like anything. About a mile out of town
+     we came to a great high wall with a door in it, and before I could
+     say 'Jack Robinson' or get anywhere near him, in he went. Well, I
+     hung round a bit, and soon I found a sort of opening in the wall
+     where I could just see in, and there he was sitting down on a seat
+     in a regular howling wilderness of a garden, as though the whole
+     place belonged to him, if you please. All right! I thought, I'm
+     agreeable to a rest, and I sat down too, little thinking what was
+     in store for me. Four mortal hours passed before he stirred, and
+     jolly stiff and tired I was, I can tell you. But it was a lucky
+     thing for me all the same, for when he got up and made for the
+     house it was almost dark, so without more ado I just opened the
+     door and walked in myself. There was no end of shrubs and trees
+     about the place, and though I followed him on another path only a
+     few yards away, he couldn't see me, and there was no chance of his
+     hearing, for the moss had grown over the gravel like a blooming
+     carpet, which was all lucky for me again.
+
+     "Well, we were just close to the house, when we both of us got a
+     start, and I nearly yelled out. Round the corner of his path, thank
+     goodness! came a tall, white-haired old lady, in a long black
+     dress, with an ivory cross hanging down, and looking as dignified
+     as possible. She no sooner saw him than she stopped and cried out,
+     'Bernard! Bernard!' and seemed as though she were going to faint.
+     She pulled herself together, however, and things became very
+     interesting for me, I can tell you.
+
+     "Mr. M---- he was going to take her hands and kiss her, but she
+     drew them away and stood back. Lord! how awful her face did look!
+     It gave me a regular turn just to look at her.
+
+     "'Bernard!' she cried out in a low, shaking voice, 'I know
+     all--all!'
+
+     "'What do you mean, mother?' he asked.
+
+     "Then she stretched her arms up, and it was dreadful to look at
+     her.
+
+     "'I had a dream!' she cried, 'a dream which kept me shuddering
+     and sleepless from midnight to daybreak. I dreamed I saw
+     him--dead--cold and dead!'
+
+     "He said nothing, but he seemed fearfully upset. I kept crouched
+     down behind a shrub and listened.
+
+     "'In the morning I sent for a file of English newspapers,' she went
+     on. 'One by one I searched them through till I came to August last
+     year. There I found it. Bernard, it was at Thurwell Court. I had a
+     letter in my pocket from you with the postmark Thurwell. Don't come
+     near me, but speak! Is there blood upon your hands?'
+
+     "And now, dad, the most provoking things happened. It seemed just
+     as though it were done to spite me. He had his mouth open to
+     answer, and I had my ears open, as you may guess, to listen, and
+     see what happens, and tell me if it wasn't a rare sell! Off the old
+     woman goes into a faint all of a sudden. He catches hold of her and
+     sings out for help. Down I ran to the door as hard as I could,
+     slammed it as though I had just come in, and came running up the
+     path. 'Anything the matter?' I called out, as though I didn't know
+     my way. 'A lady fainted,' he shouts; 'come and help me carry her
+     into the house;' so up I went, and together we carried her inside
+     and laid her on a couch in one of the queerest-furnished rooms I
+     ever saw. There was servants with lighted lamps running about, and
+     another woman who seemed to be a relation, and such a fuss they all
+     made, and no mistake. However, Mr. M---- cooled them all down
+     again pretty soon, for he could see that it was only an ordinary
+     faint, and then he began to look at me curiously. I had made up my
+     mind to stay until the old woman came round, but he was too many
+     for me, for he got up and took me to the door himself. Of course,
+     he was awfully polite and all that, and was very much obliged for
+     my help, but I twigged it in a moment. He wanted me gone, so off I
+     skedaddled.
+
+     "Well, back I went to the inn, and began to make a few cautious
+     inquiries about the lady of the Villa Fiorlessa, for that was the
+     name of the house where I had left Mr. M----. I could not get on at
+     all at first, not understanding a word of the blessed lingo, but by
+     good luck I tumbled across an artist chap who turned out a good
+     sort, and offered to interpret for me. So we had the landlord in,
+     and I ordered a bottle of his best wine--nasty greasy stuff it
+     was--and we went at it hammer and tongs. Pretty soon I had found
+     out everything I wanted to.
+
+     "Nearly twenty years ago the lady--Mrs. Martival she was
+     called--had come to the Villa Fiorlessa with her husband and one
+     little boy. They were, it seems, one of the worst-matched couples
+     that could be imagined. Mr. Martival was a gloomy, severe man, who
+     hated going out, and worked at some sort of writing day and night.
+     His wife, on the other hand, who was a Frenchwoman, was
+     passionately fond of travel, and change, and gaiety. Her life was
+     consequently very like a prison, and it is stated, too, that
+     besides denying her every whim and forcing her to live in a manner
+     she utterly disliked, her husband ill-treated her shamefully. Well,
+     she made a few friends here and went to see them pretty often, and
+     just at that time an English milord--you can guess who he was--came
+     here to see the statue, and met Mrs. Martival, whom he seems to
+     have known before her marriage. The exact particulars are not
+     known, but it is supposed that Mrs. Martival would have been
+     married to this young Englishman, Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, but for
+     some deep scheming on the part of Mr. Martival. Anyhow, there was a
+     desperate quarrel between Mr. and Mrs. Martival, when she charged
+     him with duplicity before this marriage, and he forbade her to meet
+     Sir Geoffrey Kynaston again. Quite properly she refused to obey
+     him, and they met often, although every one seems quite sure that
+     at that time they met only as friends. Mr. Martival, however,
+     appears to have thought otherwise, for one night, after what they
+     call their carnival dance here, which every one in the neighborhood
+     had attended, Mr. Martival had the brutality to close his doors
+     against her, and refuse to let her enter the house. It was the
+     crowning piece of barbarism to a long course of jealous cruelties.
+     Mrs. Martival spent that night with some friends, and seems even
+     then to have hesitated for a long time. Her married life had been
+     one long disappointment, and this brutal action of her husband had
+     ended it. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was madly in love with her, and she
+     was one of those women who must be loved. In the end she ran away
+     with him, which seemed a very natural thing for her to do.
+
+     "The queerest part of it is to come, though. Sir Geoffrey was
+     devoted to her, and would have married her at once if Mr. Martival
+     would have sued for a divorce. He showed her every kindness, and he
+     lavished his money and his love upon her. But it seems that she
+     was a devout Roman Catholic, and the horror of what she had done
+     preyed upon her so, that in less than a month she left Sir
+     Geoffrey, and entered one of the lower sort of nunneries as a
+     menial. From there she went to the wars as a nurse, and did a great
+     deal of good. When she returned, of all places in the world she
+     came back to the Villa Fiorlessa, partly from a curious notion of
+     penance, that she might be continually reminded of her sin. The
+     queerest part of it is, however, that the people round here behaved
+     like real Christians, and jolly different to what they would have
+     done at home. They knew all her history, and they welcomed her back
+     as though that month in her life had never been. That's what I call
+     charity, real charity, dad! Don't know what you think about it.
+     Well, there she's lived ever since with her sister, who had lots of
+     money (she died last year), and the poor people all around just
+     worshipped them.
+
+     "Now, to go back a bit. Mr. Martival, although he had been such
+     a brute to his wife, no sooner found out that she was with Sir
+     Geoffrey Kynaston than he swore the most horrible oaths of
+     vengeance, and went off after them. He was brought back in a fever,
+     with a pistol shot in his leg, which served him d----d well right,
+     I think. No sooner was he better than he started off again in
+     pursuit, but Sir Geoffrey dodged him, and they never met. Meanwhile
+     the young cub, whom you will recognize as Mr. M----, had grown up,
+     and what must his father do when he returned but tell him as much
+     of the story as suited him, with the result that he too swore an
+     oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. Time goes on, and
+     Mr. Martival and his son both leave here. Mr. Martival is reported
+     to have died in Paris, his son goes to England, and is lost sight
+     of. We can, however, follow the story a little further. We can
+     follow it down to its last scene, and discover in the Mr. Brown who
+     had taken a small cottage near Sir Geoffrey's seat, within a week
+     of his return home, and whom soon afterwards we discover bending
+     over Sir Geoffrey's murdered body, the boy who, fired with what his
+     father had thundered into his ears as his mother's ruin, had sworn
+     that oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey.
+
+     "All this looks very simple, doesn't it? and I dare say, my dear
+     dad, you're wondering why I don't come straight away home, and
+     cause a sensation at Scotland Yard by clearing up the Kynaston
+     murder. Simply because that isn't quite my game. I didn't come over
+     here to collect evidence against Mr. M----, for I could have laid
+     my hand on plenty of that at home. There is something else at the
+     back of it all, which I can only see very dimly yet, but which will
+     come as a crasher, I can tell you, when it does come. At present I
+     won't say anything about this, only keep your eyes open and be
+     prepared. Ta-ta!
+
+    "Your obedient son,
+    "BEN.
+
+     "P.S. Don't worry about Xs. They won't come out of your pocket in
+     the long run, I can tell you.
+
+     "P.S. 2. Wednesday evening. Here's a pretty pickle! You remember
+     the artist I told you about. I'm d----d if he isn't a regular from
+     S.Y., and he's got his pocket-book pretty full, too. The game is
+     serious now and no mistake. Mind you, I think we stand to win
+     still, but I can't be quite sure while this chap's on the lay. Look
+     out for telegrams, and don't be surprised if I turn up at any
+     moment. It may come to a race between us. D----n, I wonder how he
+     got on the scent!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+A STRANGE TRIO OF PASSENGERS
+
+
+Before the open window of her room, looking out upon the fair wilderness
+below, and over its high stone walls to the dim distant line of hills
+vanishing in an ethereal mist, lay Mrs. Martival, and by her side stood
+Bernard Maddison, looking down into her white suffering face.
+
+Sorrow and time together had made strange havoc with its beauty, and yet
+the lines had been laid on with no harsh hand. There was a certain
+dignity which it had never lost, which indeed resigned and large-minded
+sadness only enhances, and her simple religious life had given a touch
+of spirituality to those thin, delicate features so exquisitely carved
+and moulded. The bloom had gone from her cheeks for ever, and their
+intense pallor was almost deathlike, matching very nearly her snow-white
+hair, but her eyes seemed to have retained much of their old power and
+sweetness, and the light which sometimes flashed in them lent her face a
+peculiar charm. But now they were full of a deep anxiety as she lay
+there, a restless disquiet which showed itself also in her nervously
+twitching fingers.
+
+Far away down the valley the little convent clock struck the hour, and
+at its sound she looked up at him.
+
+"You go at nine o'clock, Bernard?"
+
+"At nine o'clock, mother, unless you wish me to stay."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, I shall be better alone. This thing will crush me into the grave,
+but death will be very welcome. Oh, my son, my son, that the sin of one
+weak woman should have given birth to all this misery!"
+
+He stooped over her, and held her thin fingers in his strong man's hand.
+
+"Do not trouble about it, mother," he said. "I can bear my share. Try
+and forget it."
+
+Her eyes flashed strangely, and her lips parted in a smile which was no
+smile.
+
+"Forget it! That is a strange speech, Bernard. Have I the power to
+beckon to those hills yonder, and bid them bow their everlasting heads?
+Can I put back the hand of time, and live my life over again? Even so
+futile is my power over memory. It is my penance, and I pray day and
+night for strength to bear it."
+
+Her voice died away with a little break, and there was silence. Soon she
+spoke again.
+
+"Tell me--something about her, Bernard."
+
+His face changed, but it was only a passing glow, almost as though one
+of those long level rays of sunlight had glanced for a moment across his
+features.
+
+"She is good and beautiful, and all that a woman should be," he
+whispered.
+
+"Does she know?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"She trusts me."
+
+"Then you will be happy?" she asked eagerly. "Happy even if the worst
+come! Time will wipe out the memory."
+
+He turned away with a dull sickening pain at his heart. The worst he had
+not told her. How could he? How could he add another to her sorrows by
+telling her of the peril in which he stood? How could he tell her what
+he suspected to be true--that in that quiet little Italian town English
+detectives were watching his every movement, and that at any moment he
+might be arrested? With her joyless life, and with this new misery
+closing around her, would it not be well for her to die?
+
+"It is farewell between us now, Bernard, then?" she said softly. "God
+grant that you may be going back to a new and happier life. May I, who
+have failed so utterly, give you just one word of advice?"
+
+He bowed his head, for just then he could not have spoken. She raised
+herself a little upon her couch, and felt for his hand.
+
+"Bernard, you are not as your father was," she said; "yet you, too, have
+something of the student in you. Don't think that I am going to say
+anything against learning and culture. It is a grand thing for a man to
+devote himself to; but, like everything else, in excess it has its
+dangers. Sometimes it makes a man gloomy and reserved, and averse to all
+change and society, and intolerant toward others. Bernard, it is bad for
+his wife then. A woman sets so much store by little things--her
+happiness is bound up in them. She is very, very human, and she wants to
+be loved, and considered, and feel herself a great part in her husband's
+life and thoughts. And if it is all denied to her, what is she to do? Of
+necessity she must be miserable. A man should never let his wife feel
+that she is shut out from any one of his great interests. He should
+never let those little mutual ties which once held them together grow
+weak, and fancy because he is living amongst the ghosts of great
+thoughts that little human responsibilities have no claim upon him.
+Bernard, you will remember all this!"
+
+"Every word, mother," he answered. "Helen would thank you if she had
+been here."
+
+A horn sounded from outside, and he drew out his watch hastily.
+
+"The diligence, mother!" he exclaimed; "I must go."
+
+He took her frail form up into his arms, and kissed her.
+
+"If all goes well," he said in a low tone, "I will bring her to you."
+
+"If she will come, I shall die happy," she murmured. "But not against
+her will or without knowing all. Farewell!"
+
+That night three men were racing home to England as fast as express
+train and steamer could bear them. One was Bernard Maddison, another Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, and the third his artist friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+VISITORS FOR MR. BERNARD MADDISON
+
+
+In an ordinary case, with three men starting from a given point in North
+Italy at the same time, the odds seem in favor of their all reaching
+their destination at the same time. As it happened, however, there was
+another factor to be considered, which had its due result. Bernard
+Maddison was rather more at home on Continental railroads than he was on
+English ones, whereas neither of the other two had ever before left
+their own country save under the wing of "Cook." The consequence was
+that by the aid of sundry little man[oe]uvres, which completely puzzled
+his would-be companions, Bernard Maddison stood on the platform of
+Waterloo while they were still in the throes of seasickness. As a
+further consequence two telegrams were dispatched from Ostend, and were
+duly delivered in England. The first was from Benjamin Levy to his
+father.
+
+     "Meet all boat trains at Waterloo, and try to recognize B. M. King
+     will do to shadow. Ascertain Miss Thurwell's address. Home early
+     to-morrow."
+
+The second was from his acquaintance, the artist, to Scotland Yard.
+
+     "Bernard Maddison ahead of us. Meet all trains. Tall, dark, thin,
+     pale, brown check traveling ulster. Photograph for sale in Regent
+     Street if can get to shop."
+
+Both telegrams were conscientiously attended to, and when Bernard
+Maddison drove out of the station his hansom was followed by two others.
+There was nothing very suspicious about his movements. First of all he
+was set down at his club, which meant a wait of an hour and a half for
+his watchers. At the end of that time he reappeared with all the traces
+of his journey effaced, and in a fresh suit of clothes, carrying now a
+smaller portmanteau. He lit a cigarette, and sent for a hansom. This
+time he was set down at King's Cross, and took a ticket for a small town
+on the Yorkshire coast. Hereupon the employee of Messrs. Levy & Son
+retired, having ascertained all that he was required to ascertain. The
+other myrmidon, however, having dispatched his subordinate to
+headquarters with particulars of his destination, took up the chase.
+
+It was late in the afternoon before they reached their journey's end,
+but Bernard Maddison was quite unconscious of any fatigue, and marching
+straight out of the station, turned toward Mallory. The man who was
+following him, however, hired a carriage, and drove down to the hotel.
+He knew quite well where the other was going to, and as nothing could be
+done that night, he determined to enjoy as much as he could of his
+seaside trip, and, after making up for his day's fasting by a
+satisfactory tea, he spent the evening on the jetty listening to the
+town brass band.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That was a strange walk for Bernard Maddison. Two sensations were
+struggling within him for the mastery, fear and despair at the terrible
+crisis which seemed to yawn before his feet, and that sweet revolution
+of feeling, that intense, yearning love, which had suddenly thrown a
+golden halo over his cold barren life. But as he left the road and took
+the moorland path along the cliff, the battle suddenly came to an end.
+Before him stretched the open moor, brilliant with coloring, with dark
+flushes of purple, and bright streaks of yellow gorse, and the sunlight
+glancing upon the hills. There was the pleasant murmuring of the sea in
+his ears, a glistening, dancing, silver sea, the blue sky above, and the
+fresh strong breeze full of vigorous, bracing life. Something of a glad
+recklessness stole over him and lightened his heart. This was no scene,
+no hour for sad thoughts. Where was the philosophy of nursing such, of
+giving them a home even for a moment? Joy and sorrow, what were they but
+abstract states of the mind? Let him wait until the ashes were between
+his teeth. The future and the past no man could command, but the present
+was his own. He would claim it. He would drink deep of the joy which lay
+before him.
+
+And as he walked on over the soft springy turf, with the tall chimneys
+of Thurwell Court in the valley before him, life leaped madly through
+his veins, and a deep joy held memory in a torpor, and filled his heart
+with gladness. The whole passionate side of his nature had been suddenly
+quickened into life by his surroundings, and by the thought that down
+yonder the woman whom he loved was waiting for him. Once again, come
+what may, he would hold her in his arms and hear her voice tremble with
+joy at his return. Once more he would hold her face up to his, and look
+into her dim, soft eyes, full of that glowing lovelight which none can
+fail to read. Once again he would drink deep of this delicious
+happiness, a long sweet draught, and if life ended after that moment he
+would at least have touched the limits of all earthly joys.
+
+And suddenly he stood face to face with her. He had passed Falcon's
+Nest, dismantled and desolate, with scarcely a careless glance, and had
+entered the long pine grove which fringed the cliff side. Already he was
+close to the spot where they had stood once before, and with all the
+subtle sweetness of those memories stealing in upon him he had turned
+aside to look through the tree tops down into the sea, as they had done
+together. Thus he was standing when he heard light firm footsteps close
+at hand, and a little surprised cry which rang in his ears like music,
+for it was her voice.
+
+They stood face to face, their hands clasped. In that first moment of
+tremulous joy neither of them spoke. Each was struggling for
+realization, for even an inward expression of the ecstasy of this
+meeting. For them there was a new glory in the sunny heavens, a new
+beauty in the glistening sea and the softly waving pine trees, even in
+the air they breathed. The intensity of this joy filled their hearts,
+their fancy, their imagination. Everything was crowned with a soft
+golden light; new springs of feeling leaped up within them, bringing
+glowing revelations of such delight as mocked expression. For them only
+at that moment the sun shone, and the summer winds whispered in the
+trees, and the birds sang. The world was theirs, or rather a new one of
+their own creation. The past and the future emptied their joys into the
+overflowing bowl of the present. Life stood still for them. There was no
+horizon, no background. Oh, it is a great thing, the greatest thing upon
+this earth, to love and be loved!
+
+Each dreaded speech. It seemed as though a single word must drag them
+down from a new heaven to an old earth. Yet those murmured passionate
+words of his, as he drew her softly into his arms, and her head sank
+upon his shoulder--they were scarcely words. And then again there was
+silence.
+
+It lasted long. It seemed to him that it might have lasted forever. But
+the sun went down behind the hills, and a dusky twilight stole down upon
+the earth. Then she spoke.
+
+"My love, my love! you must listen to me. I have a confession to make."
+
+"A confession? You!" he echoed.
+
+Her cheeks burned with a fire which seemed to her like the fire of
+shame. Her tongue seemed hung with sudden weights. She had doubted him.
+The hideousness of it oppressed her like a nightmare; yet her voice did
+not falter.
+
+"You remember those dying words of Rachel Kynaston?"
+
+"I have never forgotten them," he answered simply.
+
+"They laid a charge upon me. I told myself that it was a sacred charge.
+Listen, my love--listen, and hate me! I have been to detectives. I paid
+them money to hunt you down; I have done this, I who love you. No, don't
+draw your arms away. I have done this. It was before I knew. Oh, I have
+suffered! God! how I have suffered! It has been an agony to me. You will
+forgive me! I will not let you go unless you forgive me."
+
+He looked down at her in silence. His cheeks were pale and his eyes were
+grave. Yet there was no anger.
+
+"I will forgive you, Helen," he whispered--"nay, there is nothing to
+forgive. Only tell me this: you do not doubt me now?"
+
+"Never again!" she cried passionately. "God forgive me that I have ever
+doubted you! It is like a horrible dream to me; but it lies far behind,
+and the morning has come."
+
+He kissed her once more and opened his arms. With a low happy laugh she
+shook her tumbled hair straight, and hand in hand they walked slowly
+away.
+
+"You have been long gone," she whispered reproachfully.
+
+He sighed as he answered her. How long might not his next absence be!
+
+"It has seemed as long to me as to you, sweetheart," he said. "Every
+moment away from you I have counted as a lost moment in my life."
+
+"That is very pretty," she answered. "And now you are here, are you
+going to stay?"
+
+"Until the end," he said solemnly. "You know, Helen, that I am in deadly
+peril. The means of averting it which I went abroad to seek, I could not
+use."
+
+She thought of those letters, bought and safely burnt, and she pressed
+his fingers. She would tell him of them presently.
+
+"They shall not take you from me, Bernard, now," she said softly. "Kiss
+me again, dear."
+
+He stooped and took her happy upturned face with its crown of wavy
+golden hair between his hands, looking fondly down at her. The thought
+of all that he might so soon lose swept in upon him with a sickening
+agony, and he turned away with trembling lips and dim eyes.
+
+"God grant that they may not!" he cried passionately. "If it were to
+come now, how could I bear it to the end?"
+
+They walked on in silence. Then she who had, or thought she had, so much
+more reason to be hopeful than he, dashed the tears away from her eyes,
+and talked hopefully. They would not dare to lay a finger upon Bernard
+Maddison, whatever they might have done to poor Mr. Brown. His great
+name would protect him from suspicion. And as he listened to her he had
+not the heart to tell her of the men who had followed him abroad, that
+he was even then doubtless under surveillance. He let her talk on, and
+feigned to share her hopefulness.
+
+The time came when they passed into the grounds of the Court, and then
+she thought of something else which she must say to him.
+
+"We have a visitor, Bernard--only one; but I'm afraid you don't like
+him."
+
+Something told him who it was. He stopped short in the path.
+
+"Not Sir Allan Beaumerville?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Yes. I'm so sorry. He invited himself; and there is something I must
+tell you about him."
+
+His first instinct was to refuse to go on, but it was gone in a moment,
+after one glance into Helen's troubled face.
+
+"Don't look so ashamed," he said, smiling faintly. "I'm not afraid of
+him. What is it you were going to tell me about him?"
+
+"He went out the other day alone, to do some botanizing," she said. "Do
+you know where I saw him?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No. Where?"
+
+"In your cottage. I saw him sitting at your table, and I saw him come
+out. He looked terribly troubled, just as though he had found out
+something."
+
+He seemed in no wise so much disturbed as she had feared.
+
+"It's astonishing how many people are interested in my affairs," he said
+with grim lightness.
+
+"No one so much as I am," she whispered softly. "Bernard, I must tell
+you something about papa. I had almost forgotten."
+
+"Yes. Has he been exercising a landlord's privilege, too?"
+
+"Of course not, sir. But, Bernard, people have been talking, and he has
+heard them, and----"
+
+Her face grew troubled, and he stood still.
+
+"He suspects, too, does he? Then I certainly cannot force him to become
+my host."
+
+She took hold of both of his hands, and looked up at him pleadingly.
+
+"Don't be stupid, Bernard, dear, please. I didn't say that he suspected.
+Only people have been talking, and of course it leaves an impression.
+You must make friends with him, you know. Won't you have something to
+ask him--some day--perhaps?"
+
+She turned away, blushing a little, and he was conquered.
+
+"Very well, love, I will come then," he said. "Only, please, you must go
+and tell him directly we get there; and if he would rather not have me
+for a guest, you must come and let me know. I will sit at no man's table
+under protest," he added, with a sudden flush of pride.
+
+"He'll be very pleased to have you," she said simply. "A few words from
+me will be quite enough."
+
+"Your empire extends further than over my heart, I see," he said,
+laughing. "There is your father coming round from the stables. Suppose
+we go to him."
+
+They met him face to face in the hall. When he saw who his daughter's
+companion was he looked for a moment grave. But he had all the courtly
+instincts of a gentleman of the old school, and though outside he might
+have acted differently, the man was under his own roof now, and must be
+treated as a guest. Besides, he had implicit faith in his daughter's
+judgment. So he held out his hand without hesitation.
+
+"Glad to see you, Mr. Maddison. We began to fear that you had deserted
+us," he said.
+
+"I have been away longer than I intended," Bernard Maddison answered
+quietly.
+
+"Of course you dine here," Mr. Thurwell continued, moving away. "You'll
+find Beaumerville in the library or the smoke room. You know your way
+about, don't you? My gamekeeper wants to speak to me for a moment. I
+shan't be long."
+
+He crossed the hall, and entered his own room. Helen slipped her arm
+through her lover's, and led him away in the opposite direction, down a
+long passage to the other end of the house.
+
+"Consider yourself highly favored, sir," she said, pausing with her hand
+upon one of the furthest doors. "You are the only male being, except my
+father, who has ever been admitted here."
+
+She led him into a daintily furnished morning room, full of all those
+trifling indications of a woman's constant presence which possesses for
+the man who loves her a peculiar and almost reverent interest. There
+was her fancy work lying where she had put it down on the little wicker
+table, a book with a paper knife in it, one of his own; by its side an
+open piano, with a little pile of songs on the stool, and a sleek
+dachshund blinking up at them from the hearthrug. The appointments of
+the room were simple enough, and yet everything seemed to speak of a
+culture, a refinement, and withal a dainty feminine charm which appealed
+to him both as an artist and a lover. She drew an easy chair to the
+fire, and when he was seated, came and stood over him.
+
+"I expect you to like my room, sir," she said softly. "Do you?"
+
+"It is like you," he answered; "it is perfect."
+
+They were together for half an hour, and then the dressing bell sounded.
+She jumped up at once from her little low chair by his side.
+
+"I must go and give orders about your room," she said. "Of course you
+will stop with us. I have made up my mind where to put you. Roberts
+shall come and take you to your room in a few moments."
+
+"Dressing will be a farce for me," he remarked. "I have no clothes."
+
+"Oh, we'll forgive you," she laughed. "Of course you were too anxious
+to get here to think about clothes. That was quite as it should be.
+Good-by! Don't be dull."
+
+He was alone only for a few minutes. Then a servant knocked at the door
+and took him to his room. He looked around him, and saw more evidences
+of her care for him. In the sitting room, which opened on one side, was
+a great bowl of freshly cut flowers, a pile of new books, and a
+photograph of herself. The rooms were the finest in the house. The oak
+paneled walls were hung with tapestry, and every piece of furniture was
+an antique curiosity. It was a bedchamber for a prince, and indeed a
+royal prince had once slept in the quaint high four-poster with its
+carved oak pillars and ancient hangings.
+
+To Bernard Maddison, as he strolled round and examined his surroundings,
+it all seemed like a dream--so delightful, that awakening was a thing to
+be dreaded indeed. The loud ringing of the second bell, however, soon
+brought him back to the immediate present. He hastily made such
+alterations in his toilet as were possible, and descended. In the hall
+he met Helen, who had changed her dress for a soft cream-colored dinner
+gown, and was waiting for him.
+
+"Do you like your room?" she asked.
+
+"Like it? It is perfect," he answered quietly. "I had no idea that
+Thurwell was so old. I like you, too," he added, glancing approvingly at
+her and taking her hand.
+
+"No time for compliments, sir," she said, laughing. "We must go into the
+drawing-room; Sir Allan is there alone."
+
+He followed her across the hall, and entered the room with her. Sir
+Allan, with his back to them, was seated at the piano, softly playing an
+air of Chopin's to himself. At the sound of the opening door, he turned
+round.
+
+"Sir Allan, you see we have found another visitor to take pity on us,"
+Helen said. "You know Mr. Maddison, don't you?"
+
+The music, which Sir Allan had been continuing with his right hand, came
+to a sudden end, and for the space of a few seconds he remained
+perfectly motionless. Then he rose and bowed slightly.
+
+"I have that pleasure," he said quietly. "Mr. Maddison is a neighbor of
+yours, is he not? I met him, you know, on a certain very melancholy
+occasion."
+
+"Will you go on playing?" she asked, sinking down on a low settee; "we
+should like to listen."
+
+He sat down again, and with half-closed eyes recommenced the air. Helen
+and Bernard Maddison, sitting side by side, spoke every now and then to
+one another in a low tone. There was no general conversation until Mr.
+Thurwell entered, and then dinner was announced almost immediately.
+
+There was no lack of conversation then. At first it had lain chiefly
+between Mr. Thurwell and Sir Allan Beaumerville, but catching a somewhat
+anxious glance from Helen, her lover suddenly threw off his silence.
+"When Maddison talks," one of his admirers had once said, "everyone else
+listens"; and if that was not quite so in the present case, it was
+simply because he had the art of drawing whoever he chose into the
+conversation, and making them appear far greater sharers in it than they
+really were. What was in truth a monologue seemed to be a brilliantly
+sustained conversation, in which Maddison himself was at once the
+promoter and the background. On his part there was not a single faulty
+phrase or unmusical expression. Every idea he sprang upon them was
+clothed in picturesque garb, and artistically conceived. It was the
+outpouring of a richly stored, cultured mind--the perfect expression of
+perfect matter.
+
+The talk had drifted toward Italy, and the art of the Renaissance. Mr.
+Thurwell had made some remark upon the picturesque beauties of some of
+the lesser-known towns in the north, and Bernard Maddison had taken up
+the theme with a new enthusiasm.
+
+"I am but just come back from such a one," he said. "I wonder if I could
+describe it."
+
+And he did describe it. He told them of the crumbling palaces, beautiful
+in their perfect Venetian architecture, but still more beautiful now in
+their slow, grand decay, in which was all the majesty of deep repose
+teeming with suggestions of past glories. He spoke of the still, clear
+air, the delicate tints of the softened landscape, the dark cool green
+of the olive trees, the green vineyards, and the dim blue hills. He
+tried to make them understand the sweet silence, the pastoral simplicity
+of the surrounding country, delicate and airy when the faint sunlight of
+early morning lay across its valleys and sloping vineyards, rich and
+drowsy and languorous when the full glow of midday or the scented
+darkness of the starlit night succeeded. Then he passed on to speak of
+that garden--the fairest wilderness it was possible to conceive--where
+the violets grew like weeds upon the moss-grown paths, and brilliant
+patches of wild geraniums mingled their perfume with the creamy clematis
+run wild, and the clustering japonica.
+
+"She who lives there," he went on more slowly, turning from Helen toward
+Sir Allan, "is in perfect accord with everything that is sweet and
+stately and picturesque in her surroundings. I see her now as she met me
+in the garden, and stretched out her hands to greet me. It is the face,
+the form of a martyr and an angel. She is tall, and her garb is one of
+stately simplicity. Her hair is white as snow, and the lines of her face
+are wasted with sorrow and physical decay. Yet there is sweetness and
+softness and light in her worn features--aye, and more almost than a
+human being's share of that exquisite spirituality which is the reward
+only of those who have triumphed over pain and suffering and sin. Guido
+would have given the world for such a face. Little does an artist think
+at what cost such an expression is won. Through the fires of shame and
+bitter wrong, of humiliation and heart-shattering agony, the human cross
+has fallen away, and the gold of her nature shines pure and refined. God
+grant to those who have wronged her, those at whose door her sin lies,
+as happy a deathbed as hers will be. Sir Allan, I am boring you, I fear.
+We will change the subject."
+
+"Not at all. I have been--very interested," Sir Allan answered in a low
+tone, pouring himself out a glass of wine, and raising it to lips as
+white as the camellia in his buttonhole.
+
+"We are all interested," Helen said softly. "Did you stay with her?"
+
+"For three days," he answered. "Then, because I could not bring myself
+to tell her the news which I had gone all that way to impart, I came
+away."
+
+There was a moment's silence. A servant who had just entered the room
+whispered in Mr. Thurwell's ear.
+
+"Two gentlemen wish to speak to you, Mr. Maddison," he said, repeating
+the message. "Where have you shown them, Roberts?--in the library?"
+
+"I wished to do so, sir," the man replied, "but----"
+
+He glanced over his shoulder. Every one looked toward the door. Just
+outside were two dark figures. To three people at the table the truth
+came like a flash.
+
+Sir Allan sat quite still, with his eyes fixed upon Bernard Maddison,
+who had risen to his feet, pale as death, with rigidly compressed lips,
+and nervously grasping his napkin. Helen, too, had risen, with a look of
+horror in her white face, and her eyes fastened upon her lover. Mr.
+Thurwell looked from one to the other, not comprehending the situation.
+The whole scene, the glittering table laden with flowers and wine, the
+wondering servant, the attitude and faces of the four people, and the
+dark figures outside, would have made a marvelous tableau.
+
+Suddenly the silence was broken by a low agonized cry. Helen had thrown
+her arms with a sudden impulsive gesture around her lover's neck.
+
+"My love, my love!" she cried, "it is I who have done this thing. They
+shall not take you from me--they shall not!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+ARRESTED
+
+
+As is often the case, the person most concerned in the culmination of
+this scene was apparently the least agitated, and the first to recover
+his self-possession. Gently loosening Helen's arms from around him,
+Bernard Maddison walked steadily toward the door, and confronted his
+visitors. One was his fellow-passenger from London, the other a tall,
+wiry-looking man, who was standing with his hat under his arm, and his
+hands in the pocket of a long traveling coat.
+
+"I am Bernard Maddison," he said quietly. "What is your business with
+me?"
+
+"I am sorry, sir, that it is rather unpleasant," the man answered,
+lowering his voice. "It is my duty to arrest you under this warrant,
+charging you with the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of
+August last year. Please do not make any answer to the charge, as
+anything that is now said by you or anyone present, in connection with
+it, can be used in evidence against you."
+
+"I am ready to go with you at once," he answered. "The sooner we get
+away the better. I have no luggage here, so I do not need to make any
+preparations."
+
+He felt a hand on his arm, and turned round. Mr. Thurwell had recovered
+from his first stupefaction, and had come to his side. Close behind
+him, Sir Allan Beaumerville was standing, pale as death, and with a
+curious glitter in his eyes.
+
+"Maddison, what is this?" Mr. Thurwell asked gravely.
+
+"I am arrested on a charge of murdering Sir Geoffrey Kynaston at your
+shooting party last year," Bernard Maddison answered quietly. "I make no
+reply to the charge, save that I am not guilty. I am sorry that this
+should have occurred at your house. Had I received any intimation of it,
+I would not have come here. As it is, I can only express my regret."
+
+Although in some respects a plain man, there was a certain innate
+dignity of carriage and deportment which always distinguished Bernard
+Maddison among other men. Never had it been more apparent than at that
+moment. There was unconscious hauteur in his manner of meeting this
+awful charge, in his tone, and in the perfect calm of his demeanor,
+which was more powerful than any vehement protestations could have been.
+Mr. Thurwell had long had his doubts, and very uneasy doubts, concerning
+this matter, but at that moment he felt ashamed of them. He made up his
+mind on impulse, but what he said he meant and adhered to.
+
+"I believe you, Mr. Maddison," he said cordially, holding out his hand.
+"I think that the charge is absurd. In any case, please reckon me
+amongst your friends. If there is no one else whom you would prefer to
+see, I will go and get Dewes down from town in the morning."
+
+For the first time Bernard Maddison showed some slight sign of emotion.
+He took Mr. Thurwell's hand, but did not speak for a moment. Then, as
+they stood there in a little group, Helen glided up to them with a
+faint smile on her lips, and a strange look in her white face.
+
+"Father," she said, "thank God for those words!"
+
+Then she turned to her lover, and gave him both her hands, looking up at
+him through a mist of tears, but still with that ghostly smile upon her
+parted lips.
+
+"Bernard," she said softly, "you know that I have no doubts. You must go
+now, but it will not be for long. You will come back to us, and we shall
+be glad to see you. You need not trouble about me. See, I am quite calm.
+It is because I have no fear."
+
+He stooped and kissed her hands, but she held up her face.
+
+"Kiss me, Bernard," she said softly. "Father," she added, turning half
+round toward him, "I love him. We should have told you everything
+to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Thurwell bowed his head, and turned away to speak to the detectives,
+who had remained discreetly outside the door. Sir Allan returned to his
+seat, and poured himself out a glass of wine. For a moment they were all
+alone, and he held her hands tightly.
+
+"This will all come right, love," she whispered softly; "and it will
+make no difference, will it? Promise me that when it is over you will
+come straight to me. Promise me that, and I will be brave. If you do
+not, I shall break my heart."
+
+"Then I promise it," he answered, with a slight tremble in his voice.
+
+But looking at him anxiously, she was not satisfied. His white face,
+firm and resolute though it was, had a certain despair in it which
+chilled her. The hopefulness of her words seemed to have found no echo
+in his heart.
+
+"Dearest," she whispered, "it will all come right."
+
+His expression changed, but the effort of it was visible. His smile was
+forced, and his words, light though they were, troubled her.
+
+"We must hope so. Nay, it will come right, dear. Wish me good-by now, or
+rather, _au revoir_. My guardians will be getting impatient."
+
+They were virtually alone, and he drew from her lips one long,
+passionate kiss. Then, with a few cheerful words, he turned resolutely
+away. Mr. Thurwell, who had been waiting outside, came to him at once.
+
+"The brougham is at the door," he said, with an anxious glance at Helen,
+who was leaning back against a chair, her hands locked in one another,
+ghastly pale, and evidently on the point of fainting. "These men have
+only an open trap, and it is a cold drive across the moor. To-morrow you
+go to York to be brought before the magistrates. I shall be there."
+
+"You are very good," Bernard Maddison said earnestly; "but, so far as
+defence is concerned, I will have no lawyer's aid. What little there is
+to be said, I will say myself."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"It does not do," he said. "But there will be time to consider that. The
+magistrates will be sure to commit you for trial. They must have
+evidence enough for that, or Mr. Malcolm would never have signed the
+warrant against anyone in your position."
+
+"I am quite prepared for that," he answered. "Let us go."
+
+They left the room at once. Helen had fainted in her chair. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville had apparently disappeared.
+
+They stood on the doorstep for a moment while the carriage, which had
+been driven a little way down the avenue to quiet the mettlesome horses,
+returned, and Mr. Thurwell spoke a few more encouraging words.
+
+"Jenkins has packed some things of mine, which may be useful to you, in
+a portmanteau," he said. "You will find it in the carriage, and also an
+ulster. Keep up your spirits, Maddison. All will be well."
+
+"At any rate, I shall never forget your kindness," Bernard Maddison
+answered, grasping his hand. "Good-by, Mr. Thurwell!"
+
+"Good night, Maddison, good night! I shall see you to-morrow."
+
+The impatient horses leaped forward, and Mr. Thurwell turned back into
+the hall, and made his way back into the dining room. Helen had
+recovered sufficiently to be able to go to her room, he was told. Sir
+Allan was still sitting at the table, quietly sipping a cup of coffee.
+His legs were crossed, and he was smoking one of his favorite Egyptian
+cigarettes.
+
+"Has he gone?" he said, looking round languidly.
+
+Mr. Thurwell frowned. He was a man of somewhat imperturbable manners
+himself, but he was far from being unfeeling, and Sir Allan's silence
+and non-expression of any sympathy toward Bernard Maddison annoyed him
+not a little.
+
+"Yes, he's gone," he answered shortly. "I can't believe that there's
+the slightest vestige of truth in that ridiculous charge. The man is
+innocent; I'm sure of it."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't believe he's guilty myself," he answered; "but one never
+knows."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+COMMITTED FOR TRIAL
+
+
+Early on the following morning Mr. Thurwell ordered his dog cart, and
+drove into Mallory. The arrest of Bernard Maddison had been kept quite
+secret, and nothing was known as yet of the news which was soon to throw
+the little town into a state of great excitement. But in the immediate
+vicinity of the courthouse there was already some stir. The lord
+lieutenant's carriage was drawn up outside, and there was an unusual
+muster of magistrates. As a rule the cases brought before their
+jurisdiction were trivial in the extreme, consisting chiefly of
+drunkenness, varied by an occasional petty assault. There was scarcely
+one of them who remembered having sat upon so serious a charge. Lord
+Lathon came over to Mr. Thurwell directly he entered the retiring room.
+
+"You have heard of this matter, I suppose?" he inquired, as they shook
+hands.
+
+"Yes," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely. "He was arrested at my house last
+night."
+
+"I can't believe the thing possible," Lord Lathon continued. "Still,
+from what I hear, we shall certainly have to send it for trial."
+
+"I am afraid you will," Mr. Thurwell answered. "I shall not sit myself;
+I am prejudiced."
+
+"In his favor or the reverse?" his lordship inquired.
+
+"In his favor, decidedly," Mr. Thurwell answered, passing out behind the
+others, and taking a seat in the body of the room.
+
+The general impatience was doomed to be aggravated. The first prisoner
+was an old man charged with assaulting his wife. The bench listened for
+a few minutes to her garrulous tale, and managed to gather from it that
+a caution from their worships was what she chiefly desired. Having
+arrived at this point, Lord Lathon ruthlessly stopped her, and dismissed
+the case, with a few stern words to the elderly reprobate, who departed
+muttering threats against his better half which, for her bodily comfort,
+it is to be hoped that he did not put into execution.
+
+Then there was a few minutes' expectation, at the conclusion of which
+Bernard Maddison was brought in between two policemen, very calm and
+self-possessed, but very pale. Directly he appeared Mr. Thurwell rose
+and shook hands with him, a friendly demonstration which brought a faint
+glow into his cheeks.
+
+He was offered a chair, and the services of the solicitor of the place,
+the latter of which he declined. Then the chief constable, a little
+flurried and nervous at the unwonted importance of his office, rose, and
+addressed the bench.
+
+The case against the prisoner was, he said, still altogether incomplete,
+and he had only one witness, whose evidence, however, he felt sure,
+would be such as to justify their sending the matter to be decided
+before a judicial tribunal. No doubt they all remembered the painful
+circumstances of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's death, and the mystery with
+which it was surrounded. That death took place within a stone's throw of
+the cottage where the prisoner was then living, under an assumed name,
+and more than three miles away from any other dwelling place or refuge
+of any sort. He reminded them of the speedy search that had been made,
+and its extraordinary non-success. Under those circumstances a certain
+amount of suspicion naturally attached itself to the prisoner, and a
+search warrant was duly applied for, and duly carried out. At that time
+nothing suspicious was discovered, owing in some measure, he was bound
+to say, to the scrupulous delicacy with which the magistrate who had
+signed it--looking toward Mr. Thurwell--had insisted upon its being
+carried out. Subsequently, however, and acting upon later information,
+Detective Robson of Scotland Yard was appointed to look into the case,
+and the result of his investigation was the issuing of the warrant under
+which the prisoner stood charged with the murder of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. Their worships would hear the evidence of Detective Robson,
+who was now present.
+
+Detective Robson stepped forward, and was sworn. On the 15th of June
+last, he said, he searched the prisoner's cottage on the Thurwell Court
+estate. He there found in the secret recess of a cabinet, which had
+apparently not been opened for some time, a dagger, produced, in a case
+evidently intended to hold two, and which was an exact facsimile of the
+one, also produced, with which the murder was committed. He found also a
+towel, produced, which was stained with blood, and several letters. With
+regard to the towel, he here added, that in one corner of the room was
+fixed a small basin, and on the floor just beneath, covered over by a
+carpet, and bearing several signs of attempted obliteration, was a large
+blood stain. The woman who had cleaned the cottage prior to Mr.
+Maddison's occupation, was in court, and would swear that the stain in
+question was not there at that time. He mentioned these details first,
+he went on to say, but the more important part of his evidence had
+reference to these letters, and his subsequent action with regard to
+them. He would call attention to one of them, he remarked, producing it,
+and allow the bench to draw their own conclusions. He would read it to
+them, and they could then examine it for themselves.
+
+The thin rustling sheet of foreign notepaper, which he held in his hand,
+was covered closely with delicate feminine handwriting, and emitted a
+faint sweet perfume. For the first time during the hearing of the case
+Bernard Maddison showed some slight emotion as the letters were handed
+about. But he restrained it immediately.
+
+The sentence which Detective Robson read out was as follows:--
+
+     "Bernard, those who have sinned against their fellow creatures, and
+     against their God, may surely be left to His judgment. The
+     vengeance which seeks to take life is a cruel bloodthirsty passion
+     which no wrong can excuse, no suffering justify. Forgive me if I
+     seem to dwell so much upon this. That terrible oath which, at his
+     bidding, I heard you swear against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston rings ever
+     in my ears!"
+
+There were other sentences of a somewhat similar nature. As Mr. Thurwell
+listened to them he felt his heart sink. What could avail against such
+evidence as this?
+
+There was no hesitation at all on the part of the magistrates. Bernard
+Maddison had pleaded "not guilty," but had declined to say another
+word. "Anything there is to be said on my behalf," he remarked quietly,
+in answer to a question from the bench, "I will say myself to the jury
+before whom I presume you will send me."
+
+While the committal was being made out, Mr. Thurwell leaned over and
+whispered to him.
+
+"Helen sends her love. I will arrange about the defence, and will try
+and see you myself before the trial."
+
+"You need send no lawyer to me," he answered. "I shall defend myself."
+
+Mr. Thurwell said no more. He was a little dazed by those letters, but
+he was not going to allow himself to be influenced by them, for his
+daughter's sake, as well as his own. He did not like to admit himself in
+the wrong, and he had made up his mind that this man was innocent.
+Innocent he must therefore be proved. As to his defending himself, that
+was all nonsense. He would see to that. Dewes should be instructed.
+
+The committal was read out, and Bernard Maddison was removed from the
+court. On the following day he was to be taken to York, there to be
+tried at the forthcoming assizes. Mr. Thurwell bade him keep up his
+courage in a tone which, though it was intended to be cheerful, was not
+particularly sanguine. There was but one opinion in the court, and
+despite all his efforts its influence had a certain effect upon him. But
+Bernard Maddison never carried himself more proudly than when he bowed
+to Lord Lathon, and left the court that morning.
+
+At home Helen was eagerly waiting for the news. She had no need to ask,
+for her father's face was eloquent.
+
+"Is it--very bad?" she whispered.
+
+He looked away from her with a queer feeling in his throat. To see his
+daughter, who had always been so quiet, and self-contained, and
+dignified--his princess, he had been used to call her--to see her
+trembling with nervous fear, was a new and terrible thing to him, and to
+be able to offer her no comfort was worse still. But what could he say?
+
+"The evidence was rather bad," he admitted, "and only a portion of it
+was produced. Still, we must hope for the best."
+
+"Please tell me all about it," she begged, very quietly, but with a look
+in her white face which made him turn away from her with a groan. But he
+obeyed, and told her everything. And then there was a long silence.
+
+"How did he look?" she asked, after a while.
+
+"Very pale; but he behaved in a most dignified manner throughout," he
+told her. "He must be well born. I wonder what or where his people are?
+I never heard of any of them. Did you?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"He told me once that he had no friends, and no relations, and no name
+save the one which he had made for himself," she said. "I don't know
+whether he meant that Maddison was not his real name, or whether he
+meant simply his reputation."
+
+"There must be people in London who know all about him," Mr. Thurwell
+remarked. "A man of his celebrity can scarcely conceal his family
+history."
+
+Helen had walked a little away, and was standing before the window,
+looking out with listless eyes.
+
+"Father, I wonder whether Sir Allan Beaumerville has anything to do with
+this?" she said. "Has he ever hinted to you that he suspected Mr.
+Maddison?"
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because one afternoon last week I saw him come out of Falcon's Nest. It
+was the afternoon he went botanizing."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"The detective mentioned the date of his visit and search," he said. "It
+was a month ago."
+
+She wrung her hands, and turned away in despair.
+
+"It must have been through those dreadful people I went to," she sobbed.
+"Oh, I was mad--mad!"
+
+"I scarcely think that," Mr. Thurwell said thoughtfully. "They would not
+have kept altogether in the background and let Scotland Yard take the
+lead, if it had been so. What is it, Roberts?"
+
+The servant had entered bearing an orange-colored envelope on a salver,
+which he carried towards Helen.
+
+"A telegram for Miss Thurwell, sir," he said.
+
+She took it and tore it open. It was from the Strand, London, and the
+color streamed into her cheeks as she read it aloud.
+
+     "We must see you at once in the interests of B. M. Can you call on
+     us to-morrow morning? Levy & Son."
+
+"When are the assizes at York, father?" she asked quickly.
+
+"In ten days."
+
+"And you are going to London to-day, are you not, to see Dewes?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I will go with you," she said, crumpling up the telegram in her
+hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+MR. LEVY PROMISES TO DO HIS BEST
+
+
+Once more Mr. Benjamin Levy trod the pavement of Piccadilly and the
+Strand, and was welcomed back again amongst his set with acclamations
+and many noisy greetings. One more unit was added to the vast army of
+London youth who pass their time in the fascinating but ignominious
+occupation of aping the "man about town" in a very small way. And
+Benjamin Levy, strange to say, was happy, for the life suited him
+exactly. He had brains and money enough to be regarded, in a certain
+measure, as one of their leaders, and to be looked up to as a power
+amongst them, and it was a weakness of his disposition that he preferred
+this to being a nonentity of a higher type.
+
+Certain of his particular cronies had organized a small supper at a
+middle-class restaurant on the previous night in honor of his return,
+and as a natural consequence Mr. Benjamin Levy walked down the Strand at
+about half-past ten on the following morning, on his way to the office,
+a little paler than usual, and with a suspicion of a "head." It would
+have suited him very much better to have remained in bed for an hour or
+two, and risen towards afternoon; but business was business, and it must
+be attended to. So he tried to banish the effects of the bad champagne
+imbibed on the previous night with a stiff glass of brandy and soda, and
+lighting a fresh cigarette, turned off the Strand and made his way to
+the office.
+
+"Guv'nor in?" he inquired of the solitary clerk, a sharp-featured,
+Jewish-looking young man, who was sitting on a high stool with his hands
+in his pockets, apparently unburdened with stress of work.
+
+The youth nodded, and jerked his head backwards.
+
+"Something's up!" he remarked laconically; "he's on the rampage."
+
+Mr. Benjamin passed on without remark, and entered the inner office. It
+was easy indeed to see that something had gone wrong. Mr. Levy was
+walking restlessly up and down, with a newspaper in his hand, and
+muttering to himself in a disturbed manner. At his son's entrance he
+stopped short, and looked at him angrily.
+
+"Benjamin, my boy," he said, rustling the paper before his face, "you've
+been made a fool of. Scotland Yard have licked us!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin yawned, and tilted his hat on the back of his head.
+
+"What's up now, guv'nor?" he inquired.
+
+His father laid the paper flat on the desk before him, and pointed to
+one of the paragraphs with trembling fingers.
+
+"Read that! Read that!" he exclaimed.
+
+His obedient son glanced at it, and pushed the paper away in contempt.
+
+"Stale news," he remarked shortly.
+
+Mr. Levy looked at him amazed.
+
+"Maybe you knew all about it," he remarked a little sarcastically.
+
+"May be I did," was the cool reply.
+
+"And yet you have let them be beforehand with us!" Mr. Levy exclaimed
+angrily. "If this was to be done, why did we not do it?"
+
+"Because we've got a better game to play," answered the junior partner
+of the firm, with a hardly restrained air of triumph.
+
+Mr. Levy regarded his son with a look of astonishment, which speedily
+changed into one of admiration.
+
+"Is this true, Benjamin?" he asked. "But--but----"
+
+"But you don't understand," Benjamin interrupted impatiently. "Of course
+you don't. And you'll have to wait a bit for an explanation, too, for
+here's the very person I was expecting," he added, raising himself on
+his stool, and looking out of the window. "Now, father, just you sit
+quiet, and don't say a word," he went on quickly. "Leave it all to me;
+I'll pull the thing through."
+
+Mr. Levy had only time to express by a pantomimic sign his entire
+confidence in his son's diplomacy before Miss Thurwell was announced.
+She was shown in at once.
+
+"I had your telegram," she began hurriedly. "What does it mean? Can you
+do anything?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin placed a chair for her, and took up his favorite position
+on the hearthrug.
+
+"I hope so, Miss Thurwell," he said quietly. "First of all, of course
+you are aware that Mr. Maddison's arrest was as much of a surprise to us
+as to any one. We neither had any hand in it, nor should we have dreamed
+of taking any step of the sort."
+
+"I thought it could not be you," she answered. "How do you think it came
+about?"
+
+Mr. Levy, junior, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Quite in the ordinary course," he answered. "So I should think. The
+police have never let the matter really drop, and I should imagine that
+he had been watched for some time. How it came to pass, however, it is
+not worth while discussing now. The question with you, I presume,
+is--can he be saved?"
+
+"Yes, that is it," Helen answered quietly, but with deep intensity. "Can
+he be saved? Do you know anything? Can you help?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy cleared his throat, and appeared to reflect for a
+moment or two. Then he turned towards Helen, and commenced speaking
+earnestly.
+
+"Look here, Miss Thurwell," he said, "your interest in this matter is,
+of course, a personal one. Mine, on the other hand, is naturally a
+business one. You understand that?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Yes, I understand that," she said.
+
+"Let us put it on a business basis, then," he went on. "The question is,
+what will you give us to get Mr. Maddison off? That's putting it baldly;
+but we've no time to waste mincing matters."
+
+"I will give you one--two thousand pounds, if you can do it," she said,
+her voice trembling with eagerness. "Will that be enough?"
+
+"Two thousand five hundred--the five hundred for expenses," Mr. Benjamin
+said firmly. "Father, make out a paper, and Miss Thurwell will sign it."
+
+"At once," she answered, drawing off her glove. "Mr. Levy, you have some
+hope! You know something. Tell me about it, please," she begged.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," he said, "at present I can tell you no more than this.
+I really think that I shall be able in a short time to upset the whole
+case against Mr. Maddison. I can't tell you more at present. Let me
+have your address, and you shall hear from me."
+
+She had signed her name to the document which Mr. Levy had drawn up, and
+she now wrote her address. Mr. Benjamin copied the latter into his
+pocket-book, and prepared to show his visitor out.
+
+"I really don't think that you need be very anxious, Miss Thurwell," he
+said hopefully. "At present things look bad enough, but I think that
+when the time comes, I shall be able to throw a different light upon
+them."
+
+"Thank you," she answered, dropping her veil. "You will let me know
+immediately you have definite news?"
+
+"Immediately, Miss Thurwell. You may rely upon that. Good-morning!"
+
+He closed the door after her, and, returning to his seat, scribbled
+something on a piece of paper. Then he rang the bell.
+
+"Is Morrison about?" he asked the boy.
+
+"Been in and gone. Round at the Golden Sun, if wanted."
+
+"Take him this slip of paper," ordered Benjamin, "and tell him to keep a
+keen watch on the person whose name and address are there. Understand?"
+
+The boy nodded, and withdrew. Then Mr. Benjamin looked across at his
+father.
+
+"Well, guv'nor?" he remarked laconically.
+
+"Benjamin," his fond parent replied with enthusiasm, "you are indeed a
+jewel of a son."
+
+"I think I am," Benjamin replied modestly. "Come out and have a drink."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+BERNARD A PRISONER
+
+
+The arrest and committal of Bernard Maddison on a charge of murder
+created the most profound sensation in every circle of English society.
+His work, abstruse and scholarly though some of it was, had appealed to
+a great reading public, and had made his name like a household word.
+That long deep cry for a larger and sweeter culture which had been
+amongst the signs of this troubled generation, had found its most
+perfect and adequate expression in his works. He had been at once its
+interpreter and its guide. There were thoughtful men and women, a great
+mixed class, who, in their own minds, reckoned themselves as his
+apostles, and acknowledged no other intellectual master. Some were of
+the highest rank of society, others of the very lowest. It was a
+literary republic of which he had been the unacknowledged dictator,
+containing all those whose eyes had been in any way opened, who had felt
+stirring even faintly within them that instinct of mind-development and
+expansion to which his work seemed peculiarly fitted to minister. And
+so, although his career as an apostle of culture had been but a short
+one, he was already the leader of a school whose tenets it would have
+been a heresy to modern taste to doubt or question.
+
+The news of this tragical event, therefore, fell like a thunderbolt
+upon society, eclipsing every other topic in the newspapers, in
+conversation, and general interest. The first instinct of every one
+appeared to be to look upon the whole affair as a ludicrous piece of
+mismanagement on the part of the police, and Scotland Yard came in for a
+good deal of scathing criticism, as is usual in such cases. But when the
+evidence before the magistrates was carefully read, and sundry other
+little matters discussed, men's tongues began to run less glibly. Of
+course it was impossible that it could be true; and yet the evidence was
+certainly strong. In the country generally the first impulse of generous
+disbelief was followed by a period of pained and reserved expectancy. In
+clubdom, where neither fear of the devil nor love of God had yet been
+able to keep the modern man of the world from discussing freely any
+subject interesting to him, a gradual but sure reaction against the
+possibilities of his innocence set in.
+
+There were plenty of men about still who remembered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and the peculiar manner of his life. During his long absence
+from England there had been many rumors about, concerning its reason,
+and now these were all suddenly revived. The breach of a certain
+commandment, a duel at Boulogne, and many other similar adventures were
+freely spoken of. After all, this story, improbable though it sounded,
+was far from impossible. It had always been reckoned a little mysterious
+that nothing whatever had been known of Bernard Maddison's antecedents,
+great though had been his fame, and assiduous his interviewers. As all
+these things began slowly to fit themselves together, men commenced to
+look grave, and to avoid the subject in the presence of their
+woman-kind, who were one and all unswerving in their loyalty to that
+dear, delightful Bernard Maddison, who had written those exquisite
+books. But in the smoking-room and among themselves views were gradually
+adopted which it would have been heresy to avow in the drawing-room.
+
+No man appeared to take less interest in the event and the discussion
+of it than Sir Allan Beaumerville. Known generally amongst his
+acquaintances as a cynic and pessimist, men were pretty sure what his
+opinion would be. But he never expressed it. Whenever he strolled up to
+any group in the smoking-room or library of the club, and found them
+discussing the Maddison murder case, he turned on his heel and walked
+another way. If it were broached in his presence it was the signal for
+his retirement, and any question concerning it he refused point-blank to
+answer. Gradually the idea sprang up, and began to circulate, that Sir
+Allan Beaumerville had formed an idea of his own concerning the Maddison
+murder, and that it was one which he intended to keep to himself. Every
+one was curious about it, but in the face of his reticence, no one cared
+to ask him what it was.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A plain whitewashed cell, with high bare walls and tiny window, through
+which the sunlight could only struggle faintly. Only one article of
+furniture which could justly be called such, a rude wooden bedstead, and
+seated on its end with folded arms and bent head, like a man in some
+sort of stupor, sat Bernard Maddison.
+
+He was in that most pitiable of all states, when merciless realization
+had driven before it all apathy, all lingering hope, all save that
+deadly cold sea of absolute, unutterable despair. There had been moments
+on his first arrival here, when he had fallen into a dozing sleep, and
+had leaped up from his hard bed, and had stretched up his hands above
+his head, and had called out in agony that it must be a dream, a hideous
+nightmare from which he would awaken only to look back upon it with
+horror. And then his glazed, fearful eyes had slowly taken in his
+surroundings--the stone walls, the cold floor, the barred window--and
+pitiless memory had dragged back his thoughts amongst the vivid horrors
+of the last forty-eight hours. It was all there, written in letters of
+fire. He shrunk back upon his mattress and buried his face in his hands,
+whilst every instinct of manliness fought against the sobs which seemed
+as though they would rend to pieces his very frame.
+
+Once more the morning light had come, and the burning agony of the hours
+of darkness was exchanged for the cold, crushing despair of the weary
+day. They had brought his breakfast, which he had loathed and left
+untasted. And then, as he sat there, so worn out with physical and
+mental exhaustion, something of a dull miserable apathy acted like opium
+on his wearied nerves and brain. He sat there thinking.
+
+The great passions of the world are either our sweetest happiness or
+our most utter misery. Not unfrequently the one becomes the other.
+Circumstances may change, but the force remains, sometimes, after
+yielding us the most exquisite pleasure, to lash us with scorpion-like
+whips. The love of Bernard Maddison had thrilled through heart and
+soul--it had become not a thing of his life, but his whole life. Every
+impulse and passion of his being had yielded itself up to it. Ambition,
+intellectual visions, imaginative fancies, all these had been not indeed
+driven out by this passion, but more fatal still, they had opened their
+arms to receive it, they had bidden it welcome, and heart and brain and
+imagination had glowed with a new significance and a new-born power. A
+lesser love would have had a lesser effect; it would have made rivals of
+these other parts of himself. Not so the love of Bernard Maddison. Every
+fiber of his deep, strong nature was strengthened and beautified by this
+new-kindled fire. At that moment, had he been free to write, he would
+have been conscious of a capacity beyond any which he had ever before
+possessed. For a great nature is perfected by a great love, as the
+blossoms of spring by the April showers and May sun. The dry dust of
+scholarship sometimes chokes up the well of fancy. The perfect humanity
+of love acts like a sweet, quickening impulse upon it, breathing sweet
+soft life into dry images, and rich coloring into pallid visions. Such
+love, which is at once spiritual and passionate, of heaven and of the
+earth, absorbing and concentrative, widening and narrowing, is to a
+man's nature, if he be strong enough to conceive and appreciate it, the
+very food, the essence of sublimated life.
+
+To Bernard Maddison it had been so. To its very depths he realized it as
+he sat in his prison cell with something of the deep passive resignation
+of the man who stands with one foot in the grave. The latter part of his
+life--nay, the whole of it--had been full of noble dreams and pure
+thoughts. His genius had never run riot over the whole face of nature,
+to yield its fruits in a sickly sweet realism with only faint flashes of
+his deeper power. Always subordinated by the innate and cultured
+healthiness of his mind, he had sent it forth a living power for good.
+Great joy had been his as he had watched his message to the world
+listened to, and understood, and appreciated. Another age might witness
+its fruits, it was sufficient for him that the seed was rightly planted.
+
+Oh, the horror of it--the burning, unspeakable horror! In his ears there
+seemed to come ringing from the world without the great hum of gossip
+and lies which were dragging his name down into hell. A murderer! The
+time might come when she too would think thus of him, when the tragedy
+of her first love might fade away, and the lovelight might flash again
+in her eyes, but not for him. He shook his head wildly, stretched out
+his hands as though to hide something from his quivering face, and
+barely suppressed the groan of deep agony which trembled on his lips.
+God in His mercy keep him from such thoughts! Death, disgrace,
+surpassing humiliation, let them float in their ghostly garments before
+his shuddering gaze, but keep that thought from him, for with it madness
+moved hand in hand. As Michael Angelo had stifled his grief at Vittoria
+Colonna's death, in the sweet hope of rejoining her as soon as the last
+lingering breath should leave his mortal body, and as Dante had hoped
+for his Beatrice, so let him think of the woman without whom no human
+life was possible for him, almost, he cried out in his agony, no
+spiritual hope or longing.
+
+The sound of the key in the lock of his door, and the tramp of footsteps
+on the stone floor outside, awoke him with a start from his
+half-dreaming state. The thought of visitors being permitted to come had
+never occurred to him, nor did it even then. The footsteps had paused
+outside his door, but he felt no interest in them, nor ever the vaguest
+stirrings of curiosity. Then the harsh lock was turned with a grating
+sound, and two figures, followed by the prison warder, entered the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+"THERE IS MY HAND. DARE YOU TAKE IT?"
+
+
+There is nothing which can transport one so quickly from thoughtland to
+acute and comprehensive realization, as the sound of a human voice or
+the consciousness of a human presence. Like a flash it all came back to
+the lonely occupant of the prison cell--the personal degradation of his
+position, his surroundings, and everything connected with them. And with
+it, too, came a strong, keen desire to bear himself like a man before
+her father.
+
+He rose to his feet, and the pitiful bareness of the place seemed to
+become suddenly enhanced by the quiet dignity of his demeanor. Out of
+the gloom Mr. Thurwell came forward with outstretched hand, followed by
+another gentleman--a stranger. Between the two men, that one long ray of
+sunlight lay across the stone floor, and as Bernard Maddison stepped
+forward to meet his visitor, it gleamed for a moment upon his white,
+haggard face, worn and stricken, yet retaining all that quiet force and
+delicacy of expression which seemed like the index of his inward life.
+It was the face of a poet, of a dreamer, a visionary perhaps--but a
+criminal! the thing seemed impossible.
+
+"This is very good of you, Mr. Thurwell," he said in a low but clear
+tone. "I scarcely expected that I should be permitted to see visitors."
+
+Mr. Thurwell grasped his hand, and held it for a moment without
+speaking. He had all an Englishman's reticence of speech in times of
+great emotion, and it seemed to him that there was nothing that he could
+say. But silence was very eloquent.
+
+"I have brought Mr. Dewes with me," he said at last. "He wants to see
+you about the defence, you know. The high sheriff's a friend of mine, so
+I got him to pass me in at the same time; but if you'd rather see Dewes
+alone, you'll say so, won't you?"
+
+There had been an acute nervous force working in Bernard Maddison's face
+during that brief silence. At Mr. Thurwell's words, a change came. He
+dropped his visitor's hand, and his features were still and cold as
+marble, and almost as expressionless, save for the lightly drawn lips,
+and lowered eyebrows, which gave to his expression a fixed look of
+power.
+
+"That is very kind and thoughtful of you, Mr. Thurwell, and I am sorry
+that you should have had the trouble to no purpose. I have nothing to
+add to my previous decision. I will not be represented by either lawyer
+or counsel."
+
+Mr. Dewes moved forward out of the background, and bowed. He was a
+handsome, middle-aged man, looking more like a cavalry officer than a
+solicitor. But, as everyone knew, so far as criminal cases were
+concerned, he was the cleverest lawyer in London.
+
+"You are relying upon your innocence, of course, Mr. Maddison," he said;
+"but it is a very great mistake to suppose that it will establish itself
+without extraneous aid. You will have the Attorney-General against you,
+and you must have some one of the same caliber on your side. The old
+saying, 'Truth will out,' does not apply in an assize court. It requires
+to be dragged out. I think you will do well to accept my services.
+Roberts holds himself open to take the brief for your defence, if I wire
+him before midday."
+
+"I seldom change my mind," Bernard Maddison said quietly. "In the
+present case I shall not do so. If it seems to me that there is anything
+which should be said on my behalf, I shall say it myself."
+
+There was a short silence. Mr. Dewes looked at Mr. Thurwell, and Mr.
+Thurwell looked both perplexed and worried.
+
+"Maddison, you must admit that yours is an extraordinary decision," he
+said at last. "You must forgive me if I ask you in plain words what your
+reason is for it. I ask as one who is willing to be your friend in this
+matter; and I ask you as Helen's father."
+
+A sudden spasm of pain passed across Bernard Maddison's face. He shrunk
+back a little, and when he spoke his voice sounded hollow and strained.
+
+"I do not deny you the right to ask--but I cannot tell you. Simply it is
+my will. It is best so. It must be so."
+
+"Can you not see, Mr. Maddison," the lawyer said quietly, "that to some
+people this will seem almost like a tacit admission of guilt?"
+
+"I shall plead 'not guilty,'" he answered in a low tone.
+
+"That will be looked upon only as a matter of form," Mr. Dewes remarked.
+"Mr. Maddison, I should not be doing my duty if I did not point out to
+you that the evidence against you is terribly strong. Just consider it
+yourself, only for a moment. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is known to have
+seriously wronged a member of your family. You are known to have sworn
+an oath of vengeance against him. There are witnesses coming from
+abroad to prove that. Immediately on his return to his home you take a
+cottage, under an assumed name, close to his estate. He is found
+murdered close to that cottage, of which it seems that at that time you
+were the only occupant. You are the only person known to have been near
+the spot. The dagger is proved to be yours. Letters are found in your
+cabinet urging you to desist from your threatened vengeance. There is
+the stain of blood on the floor of your study, near the place where you
+would have washed your hands, and a blood-stained towel is found hidden
+in the room. All this and more can be proved, and unless you can throw a
+fresh light upon these things, there is no jury in the world that would
+not find you guilty. You hold your fate in your own hands."
+
+"I have considered all this," Bernard Maddison answered in a low tone.
+"I know that my case is almost hopeless, and I am prepared for the
+worst."
+
+Mr. Thurwell turned away, and walked to the furthermost corner of the
+apartment. For his daughter's sake, and for the sake of his own strong
+liking for this man, he had resolutely shut his eyes upon the damning
+chain of evidence against him. Now he felt that that he could do so no
+longer. Nothing but guilt could account for this strange reticence. He
+was forced to admit it at last. His compassion was still strong, but it
+was mingled with a great horror. He felt that he must get away as soon
+as possible.
+
+Mr. Dewes, who had all along had the most profound conviction of the
+guilt of the accused man seized his opportunity, and stepping close up
+to him, whispered in his ear:
+
+"Mr. Maddison, I should like to save you if I can. There have been
+cases--forgive me for suggesting it--in which, by knowing every
+circumstance and trifling detail connected with a crime, we have been
+able to build up a def----"
+
+Bernard Maddison drew himself up with a sudden hauteur, and raised his
+hand.
+
+"Stop, Mr. Dewes!" he said firmly. "I do not blame you for assuming what
+you do, but you are mistaken. I am not guilty. I do not ask you to
+believe it. I only ask you to bring this painful interview to an end."
+
+"We will go," said Mr. Thurwell, suddenly advancing from the other end
+of the cell. "I am not your judge, Bernard Maddison, and it is not for
+me to hold you guilty. God shall pass His own judgment upon you. There
+is my hand. Dare you take it?"
+
+For answer, Bernard Maddison stepped forward and clasped it in his own.
+Once more he had moved from out of the darkness, and a soft stream of
+sunshine fell upon his pallid face. White though it was, even to
+ghastliness, it betrayed no sign of blanching or fear, and his dark
+eyes, from their hollow depths, shone with a clear, steadfast light.
+Once more its calm spirituality, the effortless force which seemed to
+lurk in every line and feature of the pale wasted countenance, had its
+effect upon Mr. Thurwell. He wrung the hand which it had cost him a
+suppressed effort to take, and for the moment his doubts faded away.
+
+"God help you, Maddison!" he said fervently. "Shall I tell her anything
+from you?"
+
+A faint smile parted his tremulous lips. At that moment he was beyond
+earthly suffering. A sweet, strong power had filled his heart with
+peace.
+
+"Tell her not to grieve, and that I am innocent," he said softly.
+"Farewell!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+MR. BENJAMIN LEVY IS BUSY
+
+
+A woman stood on the little stone piazza of that Italian villa, with her
+face raised in agony to the blue sky, and her thin white hands wrung
+together with frantic nervous strength. Her whole attitude was full of
+the hopeless abandonment of a great tearless grief; and slowly dawning
+passion, long a stranger to her calm face, was creeping into her
+features. On the ground, spurned beneath her feet, was a long
+official-looking letter and envelope. A thunderbolt had flashed down
+upon the sweet stillness of her serene life.
+
+She was quite alone, and she looked out upon an unbroken solitude--that
+fair neglected garden with its high walls which seemed to give it an air
+of peculiar exclusiveness.
+
+"I will not go," she said, speaking quickly to herself in an odd, uneven
+tone. "The law of England shall not make me. I am an old woman. If they
+do, they cannot open my lips. I! to stand up in one of their courts, and
+tell the story of my shame, that they may listen and condemn my son. Oh,
+Bernard, Bernard, Bernard! The Lord have mercy upon you for this your
+crime! Mine was the sin. Mine should be the guilt. Oh, my God, my God!
+Is this just, in my old age, to pour down this fire of punishment upon
+my bowed head? Have I not suffered and done penance--ay, until I had
+even thought that I had won for myself peace and rest and forgiveness?
+Was it a sin to think so? Is this my punishment? Oh, Bernard, my son, my
+son! Let not the sin be his, O Lord. It is mine--mine only!"
+
+Sweet perfumes were floating upon the soft still air, and away on the
+hill sides the morning mists were rolling away. The sun's warmth fell
+upon the earth and the flowers, and birds and humming insects were glad.
+And in the midst of it all she stood there, a silent, stony figure,
+grief and anguish and despair written in her worn face. God was dealing
+very hardly with her, she cried in her agony. Truly sin was everlasting.
+
+"Signorina!"
+
+She turned round with a start. A servant girl stood by her side with a
+card on a salver.
+
+"A gentleman to see the signorina," she announced; "an English
+gentleman."
+
+The woman turned pale with fear, and her fingers trembled. She would not
+even glance at the name on the card.
+
+"Tell him that I see no one. I am ill. I will not see him, be his
+business what it may. Do you hear, child? Go and send him away."
+
+The girl curtsied and disappeared. Her mistress stepped back into the
+room, and listened fearfully. Soon there came what she had dreaded, the
+sound of an altercation. She could hear Nicolette protesting in her
+shrill _patois_, and a rather vulgar, but very determined English voice,
+vigorously asserting itself. Then there came the sound of something
+almost like a scuffle, and Nicolette came running in with red eyes.
+
+"Signorina, the brute, the brute!" she cried; "he will come in. He dared
+to lay his hands upon me. See, he is here! Oh, that Marco had been in
+the house! He should have beaten him, the dog, the coward, to oppose a
+woman's will by force!"
+
+While she had been sobbing out her complaint, her assailant had followed
+up his advantage, and Mr. Benjamin Levy, in a rather loud check suit,
+and with a cringing air, but with a certain dogged determination in his
+manner, appeared. Mrs. Martival turned to him with quiet dignity, but
+with flashing eyes.
+
+"Sir, by what right do you dare to enter my house by force, and against
+my command? I will not speak with you or know your business. I will have
+no communication with you."
+
+"Then your son will be hanged!" Mr. Benjamin said, with unaccustomed
+bluntness.
+
+Mrs. Martival trembled, and sank into a chair. Mr. Benjamin followed up
+his advantage.
+
+"I am not from the police. I have no connection with them. On the other
+hand, I am considerably interested in saving your son, and I tell you
+that I can put into your hands the means of doing so. Now, will you
+listen to me?"
+
+Something in Mrs. Martival's face checked him. The features had suddenly
+become rigid, and an ashy pallor had stolen over them. Nicolette, who
+had been lingering in the room, suddenly threw herself on her knees
+beside her mistress's side, and caught hold of her hands.
+
+"Oh, the wretch!" she cried, "the miserable wretch; he has killed my
+mistress!"
+
+He stood helplessly by while she ran backwards and forwards with cold
+water, smelling salts, and other restoratives, keeping up all the while
+a running fire of scathing comments upon his heartless conduct, of
+which, needless to say, he understood not a single word. Beneath his
+breath he cursed this unlucky fainting fit. He had already lost a day on
+the way, and the time was short. What if she were to be ill--too ill to
+be moved! The very thought made him restless and uneasy.
+
+In the midst of the confusion Mrs. Martival's housekeeper returned from
+her marketing in the little town, and to his relief he found that she
+understood English. He interrupted Nicolette's shrill torrents of abuse
+against him, and briefly explained the situation.
+
+"I do not wish to force myself upon her," he said. "I do not wish to be
+troublesome in any way. But when she is conscious, I want you just to
+show her half a dozen words which I will write on the back of a card.
+If, when she has read them, she still wishes me to go, I will do so
+without attempting to see her again."
+
+The woman nodded.
+
+"Very well," she said; "wait outside."
+
+He left the room and walked softly up and down the passage, eyeing with
+some contempt the rich faded curtains and quaint artistic furniture
+about the place, so unlike the gilded glories of his own taste. In about
+half an hour the housekeeper came out to him.
+
+"She is conscious now," she said; "give me your message."
+
+He gave her a card on which he had already penciled a few words, and
+waited, terribly anxious, for the result. The woman withdrew, and closed
+the door. For a moment there was silence. Then a wild, fierce cry rang
+out from the room and echoed through the house. Before it had died away
+the door was flung open, and she stood on the threshold, her white hair
+streaming down her back, and every vestige of color gone from her face.
+Her eyes, too, shone with a feverish glow which fascinated him.
+
+"Is it you who wrote this?" she cried, holding up the card clenched in
+her trembling fingers. "If you are a man, tell me, is it true?"
+
+"I believe it is," he answered. "In my own mind, I am certain that it
+is. You are the only person who can prove it. I want you to come to
+England with me."
+
+"I am ready," she said. "When can we start?"
+
+He looked at his watch.
+
+"I will be here in half an hour with a carriage," he said. "If we can
+get over the hills by midday, we shall catch the express."
+
+"Go, then," she said calmly; "I shall be waiting for you."
+
+He hurried away, and soon returned with a carriage from the inn. In less
+than an hour they had commenced their journey to England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was an early summer evening in Mayfair, and Sir Allan Beaumerville
+stood on the balcony of his bijou little house, for which he had lately
+deserted the more stately family mansion in Grosvenor Square. There was
+a soft pleasant stillness in the air, and a gentle rustling of green
+leaves among the trees. The streets below were almost blocked with
+streams of carriages and hansoms, for the season was not yet over, and
+it was fast approaching the fashionable dinner hour. Overhead, in
+somewhat curious contrast, the stars were shining in a deep cloudless
+sky, and a golden-horned moon hung down in the west.
+
+Sir Allan was himself dressed for the evening, with an orchid in his
+buttonhole, and a light overcoat on his arm. In the street, his night
+brougham, with its pair of great thoroughbred horses, stood waiting. Yet
+he made no movement toward it. He did not appear to be waiting for
+anyone, nor was he watching the brilliant throng passing westward. His
+eyes were fixed upon vacancy, and there was a certain steadfast, rapt
+look in them which altered his expression curiously. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville seldom used his powers of reflection save for practical
+purposes. Just then, however, he was departing from his usual custom.
+Strange ghosts of a strange past were flitting through his mind. Old
+passions, which had long lain undisturbed, were sweeping through him,
+old dreams were revived, old memories kindled once more smoldering
+fires, and aided at the resurrection of a former self. The cold
+man-of-the-world philosophy, which had ruled his life for many years,
+seemed suddenly conquered by this upheaval of a stormy past. Under the
+influence of the serene night, the starlit sky, and the force of these
+old memories, he seemed to realize more than he had ever done before the
+littleness of his life, its colorless egotism, the barrenness of its
+routine. Like a flash it stood glaringly out before him. Stripped of all
+its intellectual furbishing, the chill selfishness of the creed he had
+adopted struck home to his heart. A finite life, with a finite
+goal--annihilation! Had it really ever satisfied him? Could it satisfy
+anyone? A great weariness crept in upon him. Epicureanism could have
+been carried no further than he had carried it. He had steeped his
+senses in the most refined and voluptuous pleasures civilization had to
+offer him. Where was the afterglow? Was this all that remained? A palled
+appetite, a hungry heart, and a cold, chill despair! What comfort could
+his much-studied philosophy afford him? It had satisfied the brain; had
+it nothing to offer the heart? Something within him seemed to repeat the
+word with a grim echo. Nothing! nothing! nothing!
+
+What was it that caused his eyes to droop till they rested upon two
+figures on the opposite pavement? He could not tell whence the power,
+and yet he obeyed the impulse. They glanced over the man with
+indifference and met the woman's upturned gaize. And Sir Allan
+Beaumerville stood like a figure of stone, with a deathlike pallor in
+his marble face.
+
+The stream of carriages swept on, and the motley crowds of men and women
+passed on their way unnoticing. Little they knew that a tragedy was
+being played out before their very eyes. A few noticed that stately
+white-haired lady gazing strangely at the house across the way, and a
+few too saw the figure of the man on whom her eyes were bent. But no one
+could read what passed between them. That lay in their own hearts.
+
+Interruption came at last. Mr. Benjamin Levy's excitement mastered his
+patience. He asked the question which had been trembling on his lips.
+
+"Is it he?"
+
+She started, and laid her hand upon his shoulder for support. She was
+very much shaken.
+
+"Yes. See, he is beckoning. He wants me. I shall go to him. May God give
+me strength!"
+
+She moved forward to cross the road. He caught hold of her arm in sudden
+fear.
+
+"You mustn't think of it," he exclaimed. "You will spoil everything. I
+want you to come with me to--D--n! Come back, I say; come back! Curse
+the woman!"
+
+He stood on the pavement, fuming. She had glided from his grasp, and
+his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Already she was half across the
+road. The door of Sir Allan's house stood open, and a servant was
+hurrying down to meet her. At that moment Mr. Benjamin Levy felt
+distinctly ill-used.
+
+"D--d old fool!" he muttered to himself angrily. "Hi, hansom, Scotland
+Yard, and drive like blazes! The game's getting exciting, at any rate,"
+he added. "It was mine easy before that last move; now it's a blessed
+toss up which way it goes. Well, I'll back my luck. I rather reckon I
+stand to win still, if Miss Thurwell acts on the square."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+A STRANGE BIRTHDAY PARTY
+
+
+It was close upon midnight, and one of the oldest and most exclusive of
+West-end clubs was in a state of great bustle and excitement. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was giving a supper party to his friends to celebrate his
+sixtieth birthday, and the guests were all assembled.
+
+Sir Allan himself was the last to arrive. The final touches had been
+given to the brilliantly decorated supper table, and the _chef_, who had
+done his best for the greatest connoisseur and the most liberal member
+in the club, had twice looked at his watch. As midnight struck, however,
+Sir Allan's great black horses turned into Pall Mall, and a few minutes
+later he was quietly welcoming his guests, and leading the way into the
+room which had been reserved for the occasion.
+
+As a rule men are not quick at noticing one another's looks, but
+to-night more than one person remarked upon a certain change in their
+host's appearance.
+
+"Beaumerville's getting quite the old man," remarked Lord Lathon, as he
+helped himself to an ortolan. "Looks jolly white about the gills
+to-night, doesn't he?"
+
+His neighbor, a barrister and wearer of the silk, adjusted his eyeglass
+and looked down the table.
+
+"Gad, he does!" he answered. "Looks as though he's had a shock."
+
+"Not at all in his usual form, at any rate," put in Mr. Thurwell, _sotto
+voce_, from the other side of the table.
+
+"Queer thing, but he seems to remind me of some one to-night," Lord
+Lathon remarked to the Home Secretary, who was on the other side. "Can't
+remember who it is, though. It's some fellow who's in a devil of a
+scrape, I know. Who the mischief is it?"
+
+"You mean Maddison, don't you?" Sir Philip Roden answered. "Plenty of
+people have noticed that. There is a likeness, certainly."
+
+"By Jove, there is, though!" Lord Lathon assented; "I never noticed it
+before. I'm devilish sorry for Maddison, Roden, and I hope you won't let
+them hang him."
+
+The conversation turned upon the Maddison case and became general.
+Everybody had something to say about it except Sir Allan. He himself, it
+was noticed, forbore to pass any opinion at all, and at the first
+opportunity he diverted the talk into another channel.
+
+The quality of his guests spoke volumes for the social position and
+popularity of their entertainer. Probably there were not half a dozen
+men in London who could have got together so brilliant and select an
+assembly. There were only twenty, but every man was a man of note.
+Politics were represented by the Home Secretary, Sir Philip Roden, and
+the First Lord of the Treasury; the peerage by the Duke of Leicester and
+the Earl of Lathon. There were two judges, and a half a dozen Q.C.'s,
+the most popular novelist of the day, and the most renowned physician. A
+prince might have entertained such a company with honor.
+
+It had been arranged that the advent of cigars should be the signal for
+the Duke of Leicester to rise and propose their host's health. But to
+the surprise of every one, whilst his grace was preparing for the
+ordeal, and was on the point of rising, Sir Allan himself slowly rose to
+his feet, with a look in his still, cold face so different from anything
+that might be expected of a man who rises at two o'clock in the morning
+after a capital supper to make a speech to his guests, that every one's
+attention was at once arrested.
+
+"I am given to understand, gentlemen," he said slowly, "that his grace
+the Duke of Leicester was about to propose my health on your behalf. I
+rise to prevent this for two reasons. First, because to a dying man such
+a toast could only be a mockery; the second reason will be sufficiently
+apparent when I have said what I have to say to you."
+
+Every one was stupefied. Had their host suddenly gone mad, or had those
+empty bottles of Heidseck which had just been removed from his end of
+the table anything to do with it? Several murmurs for an explanation
+arose.
+
+"I had forgotten for the moment," Sir Allan continued, "that none of you
+are yet aware of what I have only known myself during the last few days.
+I am suffering from acute heart disease, which may terminate fatally at
+any moment."
+
+A sudden awed gloom fell upon the party. Cigars were put down, and
+shocked glances exchanged. A murmur of condolence arose, but Sir Allan
+checked it with a little gesture.
+
+"I need scarcely say that I did not ask you to meet me here this evening
+to tell you this," he continued. "My object is a different one. I have a
+confession to make."
+
+The general bewilderment increased. The air of festivity was replaced
+by a dull restrained silence. Could it be that their host's illness had
+affected his brain? A painful impression to that effect had passed into
+the minds of more than one of them.
+
+"You will say, perhaps," Sir Allan continued, speaking very slowly, and
+with a certain difficulty in his articulation, which did not, however,
+prevent every word from being distinctly audible, "that I am choosing a
+strange time and place for making a personal statement. But I see
+amongst those who have done me the honor of becoming my guests to-night,
+men whom I should wish to know the whole truth from my own lips--I refer
+more particularly to you, Sir Philip Roden--and to-night is my last
+opportunity, for to-morrow all London will know my story, and I shall be
+banned forever from all converse and intercourse with my fellow-men.
+
+"Very few words will tell my story. Most of you will remember that I
+came into my title and fortune late in life. My youth was spent in
+comparative poverty abroad, sometimes practicing my profession,
+sometimes living merely as a student and an experimenting scientist. In
+my thirtieth year I married a woman of good family, with whom I was very
+much in love, so much so that in order to win her I forged a letter from
+the man whom she would otherwise have married, and obtained her consent
+in a fit of indignation at his supposed infidelity. That man, gentleman,
+was Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."
+
+There was a subdued murmur of astonishment. Every one's interest was
+suddenly redoubled. Sir Allan proceeded, standing at the head of the
+table, motionless as a statue, but with a strange look in his white
+face.
+
+"In every possible way I failed in my duty as a husband toward my wife.
+She was light-hearted, fond of change, gayety, travel. I shut her up in
+a quiet, old-fashioned town while I pursued my studies, and expected her
+to content herself with absolute solitude. For years I crushed the life
+out of her by withdrawing every interest and every amusement from her
+life. We had one child only, a son.
+
+"From bad, things grew to worse. What I had dreaded came to pass. She
+discovered my treachery. Still, she was faithful to me, but we were
+husband and wife in name only.
+
+"Time passed on, and she made a few friends, and went out occasionally.
+Then, who should come by accident to the little town where we lived but
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. I was madly, insanely jealous, and I forbade my
+wife to meet him. She declined to obey me, and she was quite right to do
+so. At that time she was as faithful to me as any woman could be, and
+she treated my suspicions, as they deserved to be treated, with
+contempt. Sir Geoffrey and she met as friends, and if it had not been
+for my brutality they would never have met in any other way.
+
+"One night there was a fête and dance in our little town. My wife went,
+against my orders, and Sir Geoffrey escorted her home. A demon of
+jealousy entered into my soul that night. Although all the time I knew
+that my wife was faithful to me, the worse half of my nature whispered
+to me that she was not, and, wretch that I was, I stooped to listen to
+it. When she returned I was mad with a fit of ungovernable rage. I shut
+my doors against her, and refused to allow her to enter my house. I
+taunted her with her infidelity. I bade her go to her lover. She went to
+some friends, and for two days she waited for a message from me. I sent
+none, and on the third day she left the place with Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. In less than a month she was in a convent, and from that day
+to this she has lived the life of a holy woman."
+
+There was a slight tremor in his voice for the first time, and he
+paused. The silence was profound. Everyone sat motionless. Everyone's
+eyes were fixed upon him. In a moment he continued.
+
+"Although by sheer brutality, by coarse insults and undeviating cruelty,
+I had driven my wife to the edge of the precipice, my rage against the
+man, whom I knew she had always loved, burned as fiercely as though he
+had won her from me by the cruelest means. I followed them to Vienna,
+and insulted him publicly. My wife left him on that very night, and he
+has never seen her since; but Sir Geoffrey and I fought on the sands
+near Boulogne, and I strove my utmost to kill him. Fortune was against
+me, however, and I was wounded. I returned to my home with my thirst for
+vengeance unabated. I taught my son to curse the name of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and as soon as I had recovered from my wounds I hunted him all
+over Europe. Where he spent those years I cannot tell, but he eluded me.
+Often I reached a town only to learn that he had left it but a few days;
+once, I remember, at Belgrade, I was only a few hours behind him. But
+meet him face to face I could not.
+
+"When at last I saw my son again, I found him grown up, and in his first
+words he told me boldly that he had espoused his mother's cause, and
+that he withdrew altogether from his vow of vengeance against Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston. I left him in a fury, and almost immediately
+afterwards came the unexpected news of my accession to the baronetcy of
+Beaumerville. I made up my mind then to turn over the past chapter of my
+life, and start the world afresh. I had always been known by the family
+name of Martival, and my wife was unaware of my connection with the
+Beaumerville family. Taking advantage of this, I sent her false news of
+my death at Paris, and started life afresh as Sir Allan Beaumerville.
+
+"The past, however, soon began to cast its shadows into the future. A
+new author, calling himself Bernard Maddison, was one night introduced
+to me at a crowded assembly. I held out my hand, which he did not take,
+and recognized my son."
+
+There was a general start. The first gleam of light struggled into the
+minds of the little group of listeners. They began to see whither this
+thing was tending, and everyone looked very grave.
+
+"I had nothing to fear," Sir Allan continued. "My son showed by his
+looks the contempt in which he held me. We met frequently after that,
+but we never exchanged a single word. He kept my secret, too, from his
+mother--not for my sake, but for her own.
+
+"Six months after our first meeting Sir Geoffrey Kynaston returned to
+England. It may seem strange to you, gentlemen, but my hate for this man
+had never lessened, never decreased. The moment I heard the news I began
+to lay my plans.
+
+"Then, for the first time, my son sought me. He had come, he said, to
+make one request, and if I granted it, he would leave me in peace
+forever. Would I tell him that my oath had been buried with the old
+life, and that I would seek no harm to my old enemy? I simply declined
+to discuss the matter with him, and he went away.
+
+"From that time he commenced to watch me. I laid my plans deeply, but
+somehow he got to hear of them. When I went down on a visit to you, Lord
+Lathon, that I might be near Sir Geoffrey, he took a small cottage in
+the neighborhood, intending to do his best to counteract my schemes. But
+I was too cunning for him.
+
+"On the morning of Sir Geoffrey's murder I was on the cliffs, under the
+pretence of botanizing. While there I heard the guns of a shooting
+party, and through a field-glass I saw Mr. Thurwell and Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. At that time I scarcely thought that chance would bring Sir
+Geoffrey within my power, but I made up my mind to watch them.
+
+"Accordingly I descended from the cliffs, and, on my way, passed close
+to my son's cottage. I looked in at his sitting-room through the open
+windows, and it seemed as though the devil must have guided my eyes. His
+cabinet was open, and right opposite my eyes was a pair of long Turkish
+daggers carelessly thrown down with a heap of other curios. I listened.
+There was no one about. I stepped through the window, seized one of
+them, and hurried away. About a hundred yards from the cottage was a
+long narrow belt of plantation running from a considerable distance
+inland almost to the cliff side. Here I concealed myself, and looked out
+at the shooting party. I could see them all hurrying across the moor
+except Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. While I was wondering what had become of
+him, I heard footsteps on the other side of the plantation. I stole back
+to the edge and looked out. Coming slowly down by the side of the ditch
+was Sir Geoffrey, with his gun under his arm, and whistling softly to
+himself. He was alone. There was no one within sight. Gentlemen, it is
+an awful confession which I am making to you. I stole out upon him as
+he passed, and stabbed him to the heart, so that he died without a
+groan."
+
+Rembrandt might have found a worthy study in the faces of the men seated
+round that brilliant supper table. Blank horror seemed to hold them all
+speechless. Sir Allan, too, was trembling, and his hand, which rested
+upon the table, was as white as the damask cloth.
+
+Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and a waiter entered.
+
+"A gentleman wishes to speak with Sir Allan Beaumerville," he announced.
+
+Sir Philip Roden rose to his feet, and pointed to the door.
+
+"The gentleman must wait, Nillson," he answered. "Leave the room now,
+and see that we are not interrupted until I ring the bell."
+
+The servant bowed and withdrew, after a wondering glance at the faces of
+the little party. Sir Philip Roden left his seat and, crossing the room,
+locked the door.
+
+"Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly, "there can be only one course
+to take with regard to the painful disclosures which you have laid
+before us to-night. If you have anything to add, please let us hear it
+quickly."
+
+Sir Allan continued at once.
+
+"I went back to my son's cottage. I washed my hands in his room, and the
+towel I concealed in his cabinet. Just as I was leaving he entered. What
+passed between us I need not mention. I took up my botanizing case and
+hurried away along the cliffs, and afterward was met by Mr. Thurwell's
+servant, with whom I returned once more to look upon my work. Then came
+the time when suspicion commenced to fall upon my son. I implored him
+to leave the country. He refused. At last he was arrested. For the
+father whom he can only despise he has been willing to die. To-night I
+had made up my mind to leave a confession of my guilt and fly. My plans
+are changed. Only a few hours ago I looked into the face of one whom I
+had never thought to see again in this world. Her advice I am now
+following. To her care I entrusted my confession, and to your ears I
+have detailed it. My story is done, gentlemen. Sir Philip Roden, I place
+myself in your hands."
+
+His last words had been almost drowned by a clamorous knocking at the
+closed door. When he had ceased, Sir Philip Roden rose and opened it.
+Two men entered at once, followed by Mr. Benjamin Levy. The men
+recognized Sir Philip, and saluted.
+
+"What is your business?" he asked.
+
+"We hold a warrant for the arrest of Sir Allan Beaumerville, sir," was
+the respectful answer, "granted on the sworn information of Mr. Benjamin
+Levy there, by Mr. Pulsford, half an hour ago. Which is he, sir?"
+
+Sir Philip pointed to where his late host was standing a little away
+from the others, his hand resting on the carved knob of his high-backed
+chair, and his eyes fixed wildly upon them. The man advanced to him at
+once.
+
+"You are my prisoner, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly. "I hold
+a warrant here for your arrest on the charge of having murdered Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of August of last year."
+
+Those who were watching Sir Allan's face closely saw only a slight
+change. Its deep pallor grew only a shade more livid, and there was a
+faint twitching of the features. Then with an awful light flashing into
+his burning eyes, and a cry which rang through the whole building, he
+threw up his arms and fell like a log across the hearth rug. Every one
+sprang up and crowded round him, but the physician pushed his way
+through the group and fell on his knees. He was up again in a moment,
+looking very pale and awed.
+
+"Keep back, gentlemen; keep back, please," he said in a low tone. "Never
+mind about the brandy, Sir Philip. Every one had better go away. These
+people from Scotland Yard need not wait. Sir Allan will answer for his
+crime at a higher court than ours."
+
+And so it indeed was. Tragical justice had herself added the last and
+final scene to the drama. Sir Allan Beaumerville's lips were closed for
+ever in this world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+INNOCENT
+
+
+An hour or two before the _dénouement_ of Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+supper party, his brougham had driven up to Mr. Thurwell's town house,
+and had set down a lady there. She had rung the bell and inquired for
+Miss Thurwell.
+
+The footman who answered the door looked dubious.
+
+"Miss Thurwell was in, certainly, but she was unwell and saw no
+visitors, and it was late. Could he take her name?"
+
+The lady handed him a note.
+
+"If you will take this to Miss Thurwell, and tell her that I am waiting,
+I think that she will see me," she said quietly.
+
+The man took it, and, somewhat impressed by the bearing and manner of
+speech of the unknown lady, he showed her into the morning-room, and
+ringing for Miss Thurwell's maid, handed her the note and awaited the
+decision. It was speedily given. The lady was to be shown to her room at
+once.
+
+The agonizing suspense in which Helen had been living for the last few
+days had laid a heavy hand upon her. Her cheeks were thin, and had been
+woefully pale until the sudden excitement of this visit had called up a
+faint hectic flush which had no kindred with the color of health. Her
+form, too, seemed to have shrunken, and the loose tea-gown which she
+wore enhanced the fragility of her appearance. She had been sitting in a
+low chair before the fire, with her head buried in her hands, but when
+her visitor was announced she was standing up with her dry, bright eyes
+eagerly fixed upon the woman who stood on the threshold. The door was
+closed, and they looked at one another for a moment in silence.
+
+To an artist, the figures of these two women, each so intensely
+interested in the other, and each possessed of a distinctive and
+impressive personality, would have been full of striking suggestions.
+Helen, in her loose gown of a soft dusky orange hue, and with no harsher
+light thrown upon her features than the subdued glow of a shaded lamp,
+and occasional flashes of the firelight which gleamed in her
+too-brilliant eyes, seemed to have lost none of her beauty. All her
+surroundings, too, went to enhance it: the delicately-toned richness of
+the coloring around, the faintly perfumed air, the indefinable
+suggestion of feminine daintiness, so apparent in all the appointments
+of the little chamber. From the semi-darkness of her position near the
+door Helen's visitor brought her eager scrutiny to an end. She advanced
+a little into the room and spoke.
+
+"You are Helen Thurwell?" she said softly. "Sir Allan Beaumerville has
+bidden me come to you. You have read his note?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I have read it," she answered quickly. "He tells me that you
+have news--news that concerns Bernard Maddison. Is it anything that will
+prove his innocence?"
+
+"It is already proved."
+
+Helen gave a great cry and sank into a low chair. She had no doubts;
+her visitor's tone and manner forbade them. But the tension of her
+feelings, strung to such a pitch of nervousness, gave way all at once.
+Her whole frame was shaken with passionate sobs. The burning agony of
+her grief was dissolved in melting tears.
+
+And the woman whose glad tidings had brought this change stood all the
+while patient and motionless. Once, when Helen had first yielded to her
+emotion, she had made a sudden movement forward, and a sweet,
+sympathetic light had flashed for a moment over her pale features. But
+something had seemed to restrain her, some chilling memory which had
+checked her first impulse, and made her resume her former attitude of
+quiet reserve. She stood there and waited. By and by Helen looked up and
+started to her feet.
+
+"I had almost forgotten; I am so sorry," she said. "Do sit down, please,
+and tell me everything, and who you are. You have brought me the best
+news I ever had in my life," she added with a little burst of gratitude.
+
+Her visitor remained standing--remained grave, silent, and unresponsive;
+yet there was nothing forbidding about her appearance. Looking into her
+soft gray eyes and face still beautiful, though wrinkled and colorless,
+Helen was conscious of a strange feeling of attraction toward her, a
+sort of unexplained affinity which women in trouble or distress often
+feel for one another, but which the sterner fiber of man's nature rarely
+admits of. She moved impulsively forward, and stretched out her hands in
+mute invitation, but there was no response. If anything, indeed, her
+visitor seemed to shrink a little away from her.
+
+"You ask me who I am," she said softly. "I am Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+wife; I am Bernard Maddison's mother."
+
+Helen sank back upon her chair, perfectly helpless. This thing was too
+much for her to grasp. She looked up at the woman who had spoken these
+marvelous words, half frightened, altogether bewildered.
+
+"You are Sir Allan Beaumerville's wife," she repeated slowly. "I do not
+understand; I never knew that he was married. And Bernard Maddison his
+son!"
+
+Helen sat quite still for a moment. Then light began to stream in upon
+her darkened understanding. Suddenly she sprang to her feet.
+
+"Who was it? then, who killed--Oh, my God, I see it all now. It was----"
+
+She ceased, and looked at her visitor with blanched cheeks. A low,
+tremulous cry of horror broke from Lady Beaumerville's white lips. Her
+calmness seemed gone. She was trembling from head to foot.
+
+"God help him! it was my husband who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," she
+cried; "and the sin is on my head."
+
+Helen was scarcely less agitated. She caught hold of the edge of the
+table to steady herself. Her voice seemed to come from a great distance.
+
+"Sir Allan! I do not understand. Why did he do that horrible thing?"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and my husband were mortal enemies," answered
+Lady Beaumerville, her voice scarcely raised above a whisper. "Mine was
+the fault, mine the guilt. Alas! alas!"
+
+The stately head with its wealth of silvery white hair was buried in her
+hands. Her attitude, the agony which quivered in her tone dying away in
+her final expression of despair like chords of wild, sad music, and
+above all her likeness to the man she loved, appealed irresistibly to
+Helen. A great pity filled her heart. She passed her arm round Lady
+Beaumerville, and drew her on to the sofa.
+
+There were no words between them then. Only, after a while, Helen asked
+quietly:
+
+"Sir Allan--must he confess?"
+
+"It is already done," her visitor answered. "To-morrow the world will
+know his guilt and my shame. Ah," she cried, her voice suddenly
+changing, "I had forgotten. Turn your face away from me, Helen Thurwell,
+and listen."
+
+In the silence of the half-darkened chamber she told her story--told it
+in the low, humbled tone of saintly penitence, rising sometimes into
+passion and at others falling into an agonized whisper. She spoke of her
+girlhood, of the falsehood by which she had been cheated into a loveless
+marriage, and the utter misery which it had brought. Then she told her
+of her sin, committed in a moment of madness after her husband's brutal
+treatment, and so soon repented of. Lightly she touched upon her many
+years of solitary penance, her whole lifetime dedicated willingly and
+earnestly to the expiation of that dark stain, and of the coming to her
+quiet home of the awful news of Sir Geoffrey's murder. In her old age
+her sin had risen up against her, remorseless and unsatiated. Almost she
+had counted herself forgiven. Almost she had dared to hope that she
+might die in peace. But sin is everlasting, its punishment eternal.
+
+Here her voice died away in a sudden fit of weakness, as though the
+fierce consuming passion of her grief had eaten away all her strength.
+But in a moment or two she continued.
+
+"I thought my husband dead, and the sin my son's," she whispered. "They
+sent to me to come to his trial, that they might hear from my lips what
+they thought evidence against him. I would have died first. Then came a
+young man who told me all, and I came with him to England. I have seen
+and spoken with my husband. On his table he showed me signed papers. His
+confession was ready. 'This night,' he said, 'I take my leave of the
+world.' Thank God, he forgave me, and I him. We have stood hand-in-hand
+together, and the past between us is no more. He bade me come here, and
+I have come. I have seen the woman my son loves, and I am satisfied. Now
+I will go."
+
+Her eyes rested for a moment upon Helen, full of an inexpressible
+yearning, and there had been a faint, sad wistfulness in her tone. But
+when she had finished, she drew her cloak around her, and turned toward
+the door.
+
+Helen let her take a few steps, scarcely conscious of her intention.
+Then she sprang up, and laid her hand upon Lady Beaumerville's shoulder.
+
+"You are his mother," she said softly. "May I not be your daughter?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Helen, Helen, I have strange news for you!"
+
+The room was in semi-darkness, for the fire had burnt low and the
+heavily shaded lamp gave out but little light. Side by side on the low
+sofa, two women, hand-in-hand, had been sobbing out their grief to one
+another. On the threshold, peering with strained eyes through the gloom,
+was Mr. Thurwell, his light overcoat, hastily thrown over his evening
+clothes, still unremoved.
+
+She rose to her feet, and he saw the dim outline of her graceful figure,
+even a vision of her white, tear-stained face.
+
+"The truth has come out," he said gravely. "To-morrow Bernard will be
+free. The man who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston has confessed."
+
+"Confessed!" Helen repeated. "Where? To whom?"
+
+"To the Home Secretary, to a party of us as we sat at supper, his guests
+at the club. Helen, be prepared for a great surprise. The murderer was
+Sir Allan Beaumerville."
+
+"I know it," Helen whispered hoarsely across the room. "Have they
+arrested Sir Allan?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell's surprise at his daughter's knowledge was forgotten in the
+horror of the scene which her words had called up. Across the darkened
+air of the little chamber it seemed to float again before his shuddering
+memory, and he stretched out his hands for a moment before his face.
+
+"Arrested him--no!" he answered in an agitated tone. "I have seen
+nothing so awful in all my life. He made his confession at the head of
+his table, the police were clamoring outside with a warrant, and while
+we all sat dazed and stupefied, he fell backward--dead."
+
+A cry rang through the little chamber, a sudden wail, half of relief,
+half of anguish. Helen fell upon her knees by the side of the sofa. Mr.
+Thurwell started, and moved forward.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked quickly. "I thought you were alone."
+
+"It is his wife," Helen answered, not without some fear. "See, she has
+fainted."
+
+Mr. Thurwell hesitated only for a moment. Then his face filled with
+compassion.
+
+"God help her;" he said solemnly. "I will send the women up to you, and
+a doctor. God help her!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+AT LAST
+
+
+The morning sunlight lay upon that wonderful fair garden of the villa.
+The tall white lilies, the scarlet poppies, the clustering japonica, the
+purple hyacinths, and the untrimmed brilliantly-flowering shrubs, lifted
+their heads before its sweet, quickening warmth, and yielded up their
+perfume to the still clear air. The languorous hour of noon was still
+far off. It was the birth of a southern summer day, and everything was
+fresh and pure, untainted by the burning, enervating heat which was soon
+to dry up the sweetness from the earth, and the freshness from the
+slightly moving breeze. Away on the brown hills, fading into a
+transparent veil of blue, the bright dresses of the peasant women
+stooping at their toil, the purple glory of the vineyards, and the deep,
+quiet green of the olive groves--all these simple characteristics of the
+pastoral landscape were like brilliant patches of coloring upon a
+fitting background. Soon the haze of the noonday heat would hang upon
+the earth, deadening the purity of its color, and making the air heavy
+and oppressive with faint overladen perfumes. But as yet the sun lay low
+in the heavens, and the earth beneath was like a fair still picture.
+
+The heavy lumbering coach which connected the little town with the
+outside world was drawn up at the gate of the villa, and twice the
+quaintly sounding horn had broken the morning stillness. It was a moment
+of farewell, a farewell not for days or for years, but forever.
+
+Their words denied it, yet in their hearts was that certain conviction,
+and much of that peculiar sadness which it could not fail to bring. Yet
+she would not have them stay for the end. She had bidden them go, and
+the hour had come.
+
+Too weak to walk, or even sit upright, they had laid her upon a sofa in
+front of the open windows, through which the perfume from the garden
+below stole sweetly in on the bosom of the slowly stirring south wind.
+On one side of her stood a tall mild-faced priest from the brotherhood
+who had made their home in the valley below, on the other were Bernard
+and his wife, her son and daughter.
+
+There was no doubt that she was dying, that she was indeed very near
+death. Yet she was sending them away from her. The brief while they
+three had lived there together had been like a late autumn to her life,
+which had blossomed forth with sweet moments of happiness such as she
+had never dreamed of. And now her summons had come, and she was ready.
+In her last moments she must return once more to that absolute
+detachment from all save spiritual things in which for many years she
+had lived, a saintly, blessed woman. So she had bidden them go, even her
+son, even that fair sweet English girl who had been more than a daughter
+to her. She had bidden them go. The last words had been spoken, for the
+last time her trembling lips had been pressed to her son's. Yet they
+lingered.
+
+And there came of a sudden, floating through the window, the sweet slow
+chiming of the matins bell from the monastery below. Almost it seemed
+as though the soft delicate air through which it passed, the exquisite
+beauty of the sloping landscape and old garden over which it traveled,
+had had a rarefying influence upon the sound itself, and had mellowed
+its tones into a strain of the most perfect music throbbing with harmony
+and dying away in faint, delicious murmurs. They stood and listened to
+it, and a sudden light swept into the pale face upon the couch. They all
+looked at her in a sudden awe. The priest sank upon his knees by her
+side, and prayed. Long desired, it had come at last at this most fitting
+moment. The glory of death shone in her face, and the light of a coming
+release flashed across her features. She died as few can die, as one who
+sees descending from the clouds a long-promised happiness, and whose
+heart and soul go forth to meet it with joy.
+
+They stayed and buried her under a cypress tree, in a sunny corner of
+the monastery churchyard, where a plain black cross marked her grave.
+Then they turned their faces toward England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And in England they were happy. For the first few years they chose to
+live almost in retirement at their stately home, for with no desire for
+notoriety, Sir Bernard Beaumerville found himself on his return from
+abroad the most famous man in London. To escape from the lionizing that
+threatened him, Helen and he shut themselves up at Beaumerville Court,
+and steadfastly refused all invitations. Of their life there little need
+be said, save that to each it was the perfect realization of dreams
+which had once seemed too sweet to be possible.
+
+And in the midst of it all he found time to write. From the quaint oak
+library, where he had gone back into the old realms of thoughtland, he
+sent out into the world a great work. Once more the columns of the daily
+papers and the reviews were busy with his name, and for once all were
+unanimous. All bowed down before his genius, and his name was written
+into the history of his generation. Through a burning sea of trouble, of
+intellectual disquiet and mental agony, he had emerged strengthened at
+every point. Love had fulfilled upon him its great office. He was
+humanized. The impersonality, which is the student's bane, which deepens
+into misanthropy, cynicism, and pessimism, yielded before it. The voices
+of his own children became dearer to him than the written thoughts of
+dead men. It was the reassertion of nature, and it was well for him. So
+was he saved, so was his genius unfettered from the cloying weight of
+too much abstract thought, which at one time, save for his artistic
+instincts, would have plunged him into the morass of pedantry and turned
+his genius into a pillar of salt. A woman had saved him, and through the
+long years of their life together he never forgot it.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The New Tenant
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Release Date: February 4, 2009 [EBook #27998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NEW TENANT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D. Alexander, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<h1>THE NEW TENANT</h1>
+
+<h2>BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM</h2>
+
+<h3>AUTHOR OF "THE YELLOW HOUSE," "TO WIN THE LOVE HE SOUGHT," "A DAUGHTER
+OF ASTREA," ETC.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>DONALD W. NEWTON<br />
+156 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1910, by</span><br />
+C. H. DOSCHER &amp; CO.</h4>
+
+<h4>THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK</h4>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Falcon's Nest</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">The Murder Near the Falcon's Nest</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">Mr. Bernard Brown</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">An Evil End to an Evil Life</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">The Inner Room at the Falcon's Nest</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">A Terrible Enemy</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Helen Thurwell's Suspicions</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">Did You Kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Mr. Brown Dines at the Court</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">The Tragedy of Rachel Kynaston</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">Levy &amp; Son, Private Agents</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. <span class="smcap">A Jewel of a Son</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. <span class="smcap">A Strange Meeting</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">Helen Thurwell Asks a Direct Question</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">A Literary Celebrity</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">A Snub for a Baronet</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">Bernard Maddison and Helen Thurwell</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">A Cheque for &pound;1,000</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">An Unpleasant Discovery for Bernard Brown</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">God! That I May Die!</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">Sir Allan Beaumerville Has a Caller</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. <span class="smcap">"God Forbid It!"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. <span class="smcap">Lovers</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. <span class="smcap">A Woman's Love</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. <span class="smcap">Mr. Levy, Junior, Goes on the Continent</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. <span class="smcap">Helen Decides To Go Home</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. <span class="smcap">Mr. Thurwell Makes Some Inquiries</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Sir Allan Beaumerville Visits The Court</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. <span class="smcap">The Scene Changes</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. <span class="smcap">Benjamin Levy Runs His Quarry To Earth</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. <span class="smcap">Benjamin Levy Writes Home</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. <span class="smcap">A Strange Trio of Passengers</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. <span class="smcap">Visitors for Mr. Bernard Maddison</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. <span class="smcap">Arrested</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. <span class="smcap">Committed for Trial</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. <span class="smcap">Mr. Levy Promises To Do His Best</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. <span class="smcap">Bernard a Prisoner</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. <span class="smcap">"There Is My Hand. Dare You Take It?"</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX. <span class="smcap">Mr. Benjamin Levy Is Busy</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XL">CHAPTER XL. <span class="smcap">A Strange Birthday Party</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">CHAPTER XLI. <span class="smcap">Innocent</span></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">CHAPTER XLII. <span class="smcap">At Last</span></a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>THE NEW TENANT</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>FALCON'S NEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Thurwell Court, by Thurwell-on-the-Sea, lay bathed in the quiet
+freshness of an early morning. The dewdrops were still sparkling upon
+the terraced lawns like little globules of flashing silver, and the
+tumult of noisy songsters from the thick shrubberies alone broke the
+sweet silence. The peacocks strutting about the grey stone balcony and
+perched upon the worn balustrade were in deshabille, not being
+accustomed to display their splendors to an empty paradise, and the few
+fat blackbirds who were hopping about on the lawn did so in a desultory
+manner, as though they were only half awake and had turned out under
+protest. Stillness reigned everywhere, but it was the sweet hush of
+slowly awakening day rather than the drowsy, languorous quiet of
+exhausted afternoon. With one's eyes shut one could tell that the pulse
+of day was only just beginning to beat. The pure atmosphere was buoyant
+with the vigorous promise of morning, and gently laden with the mingled
+perfumes of slowly opening flowers. There was life in the breathless
+air.</p>
+
+<p>The sunlight was everywhere. In the distance it lay upon the dark
+hillside, played upon the deep yellow gorse and purple heather of the
+moorland, and, further away still, flashed upon a long silver streak of
+the German Ocean. In the old-fashioned gardens of the court it shone
+upon luscious peaches hanging on the time-mellowed red-brick walls; lit
+up the face and gleamed upon the hands of the stable clock, and warmed
+the ancient heart of the stooping, grey-haired old gardener's help who,
+with blinking eyes and hands tucked in his trousers pockets, was smoking
+a matutinal pipe, seated on the wheelbarrow outside the tool shed.</p>
+
+<p>Around the mansion itself it was very busy, casting a thousand sunbeams
+upon its long line of oriel windows, and many quaint shadows of its
+begabled roof upon the lawns and bright flower-beds below. On one of the
+terraces a breakfast-table was laid for two, and here its splendour was
+absolutely dazzling. It gleamed upon the sparkling silver, and the
+snow-white tablecloth; shone with a delicate softness upon the
+freshly-gathered fruit and brilliant flowers, and seemed to hover with a
+gentle burnished light upon the ruddy golden hair of a girl who sat
+there waiting, with her arm resting lightly upon the stone balustrade,
+and her eyes straying over the quaint well-kept gardens to the open
+moorland and dark patches of wooded country beyond.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Helen! First, as usual."</p>
+
+<p>She turned round with a somewhat languid greeting. A tall, well-made
+man, a little past middle-age, in gaiters and light tweed coat, had
+stepped out on to the balcony from one of the open windows. In his right
+hand he was swinging carelessly backwards and forwards by a long strap a
+well-worn letter-bag.</p>
+
+<p>"Is breakfast ready?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Waiting for you, father," she answered, touching a small handbell by
+her side. "Try one of those peaches. Burdett says they are the finest he
+ever raised."</p>
+
+<p>He stretched out his hand for one, and sinking into a low basket chair,
+commenced lazily to peel it, with his eyes wandering over the sunny
+landscape. A footman brought out the tea equipage and some
+silver-covered dishes, and, after silently arranging them upon the
+table, withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>"What an exquisite morning!" Mr. Thurwell remarked, looking up at the
+blue cloudless sky, and pulling his cap a little closer over his eyes to
+protect them from the sun. "We might be in Italy again."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed we might," she answered. "I am going to imagine that we are, and
+make my breakfast of peaches and cream and chocolate! Shall I give you
+some?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head, with a little grimace.</p>
+
+<p>"No, thanks. I'm Philistine enough to prefer devilled kidneys and tea. I
+wonder if there is anything in the letters."</p>
+
+<p>He drew a key from his waistcoat pocket, and, unlocking the bag, shook
+its contents upon the tablecloth. His daughter looked at the pile with a
+faint show of interest. There were one or two invitations, which he
+tossed over to her, a few business letters, which he put on one side for
+more leisurely perusal later on, and a little packet from his agent
+which he opened at once, and the contents of which brought a slight
+frown into his handsome face.</p>
+
+<p>Helen Thurwell glanced through her share without finding anything
+interesting. Tennis parties, archery meetings, a bazaar f&ecirc;te;
+absolutely nothing fresh. She was so tired of all that sort of
+thing&mdash;tired of eternally meeting the same little set of people, and
+joining in the same round of so-called amusements. There was nothing in
+Northshire society which attracted her. It was all very stupid, and she
+was very much bored.</p>
+
+<p>"Some news here that will interest you, Helen," her father remarked
+suddenly. "Who do you think is coming home?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. She was not in the least curious.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't remember any one going away lately," she remarked. "How warm it
+is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is coming back."</p>
+
+<p>After all, she was a little interested. She looked away from the sunny
+gardens and into her father's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Really!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a fact!" he declared. "Douglas says that he will be here to-day
+or to-morrow. Let me see, it must be nearly fifteen years since he was
+in England. Time he settled down, if he means to at all."</p>
+
+<p>"Was he very wild, then?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>The squire nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather!" he answered dryly. "I dare say people will have forgotten all
+about it by now, though. Forty thousand a year covers a multitude of
+sins, especially in a tenth baronet!"</p>
+
+<p>She asked no more questions, but leaned back in her chair, and looked
+thoughtfully across the open country towards the grey turrets of
+Kynaston Towers, from which a flag was flying. Mr. Thurwell re-read his
+agent's letter with a slight frown upon his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to do here," he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" she asked absently. She was watching the flag slowly
+unfurling itself in the breeze, and fluttering languidly above the
+tree-tops. It was odd to think that a master was coming to rule there.</p>
+
+<p>"It's about Falcon's Nest. I wish I'd never thought of letting it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why? It would be a great deal better occupied, surely!"</p>
+
+<p>"If I could let it to a decent tenant, of course it would. But, you know
+that fellow Chapman, of Mallory? He wants it!"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"You surely would not let it to a man like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. But, on the other hand, I don't want to offend him. If I
+were to decide to stand for the county at the next election, he would be
+my most useful man in Mallory, or my worst enemy. He's just the sort of
+fellow to take offence&mdash;quickly, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you tell him it's let?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not unless I do let it to some one. Of course not!"</p>
+
+<p>"But are there no other applications?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there is one other," he answered; "but the most awkward part of it
+is that it's from a complete stranger. Fellow who calls himself
+'Brown.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see the letter," she said.</p>
+
+<p>He passed it over the table to her. It was written on plain notepaper,
+in a peculiar, cramped handwriting.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>London</i>, May 30.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,&mdash;I understand, from an advertisement in this week's
+<i>Field</i>, that you are willing to let 'Falcon's Nest,' situated on
+your estate. I shall be happy to take it at the rent you quote, if
+not already disposed of. My solicitors are Messrs. Cuthbert, of
+Lincoln's Inn; and my bankers, Gregsons. I may add that I am a
+bachelor, living alone. The favor of your immediate reply will much
+oblige,</p>
+
+<p>"Yours faithfully,</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Bernard Brown.</span>"</p></div>
+
+<p>She folded the letter up, and returned it to her father without remark.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," Mr. Thurwell said, "my only chance of escaping from Chapman,
+without offending him, is to say that it is already let, and to accept
+this fellow's offer straight off. But it's an awful risk. How do I know
+that Brown isn't a retired tallow-chandler or something of that sort?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not telegraph to his solicitors?" she suggested; "they would know
+who he was, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not a bad idea!" he declared. "Morton shall ride over to Mallory
+at once. I'm glad you thought of it, Helen."</p>
+
+<p>Having come to this decision, Mr. Thurwell turned round and made an
+excellent breakfast, after which he and his daughter spent the day very
+much in the same manner as any other English country gentleman and young
+lady are in the habit of doing. He made a pretense of writing some
+letters and arranging some business affairs with his agent in the
+library for an hour, and, later on in the morning, he drove over to
+Mallory, and took his seat on the magistrates' bench during the hearing
+of a poaching case. After lunch, he rode to an outlying farm to inspect
+a new system of drainage, and when he returned, about an hour before
+dinner-time, he considered that he had done a good day's work.</p>
+
+<p>Helen spent the early part of the morning in the garden, and arranging
+freshly cut flowers about the house. Then she practised for an hour,
+solely out of a sense of duty, for she was no musician. Directly the
+time was up, she closed the piano with a sigh of relief, and spent the
+rest of the time before two o'clock reading a rather stupid novel. After
+luncheon she made a call several miles off, driving herself in a
+light-brown cart, and played several sets of tennis, having for her
+partner a very mild and brainless young curate. At dinner-time she and
+her father met again, and when he entered the room he had two slips of
+orange-colored paper in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what news?" she inquired.</p>
+
+<p>He handed the telegrams to her without a word, and she glanced them
+through. The first was from the bankers.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"To Guy Davenant Thurwell, Esq.,
+Thurwell Court, Northshire.</p>
+
+<p>"We consider Mr. Brown a desirable tenant for you from a pecuniary
+point of view. We know nothing of his family."</p></div>
+
+<p>The other one was from his lawyers.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"To Guy D. Thurwell, Esq.,
+Thurwell Court, Northshire.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown is a gentleman of means, and quite in a position to rent
+'Falcon's Nest.' We are not at liberty to say anything as to his
+antecedents or family."</p></div>
+
+<p>"What am I to do?" asked Mr. Thurwell, undecidedly. "I don't like the
+end of this last telegram. A solicitor ought to be able to say a little
+more about a client than that."</p>
+
+<p>Helen considered for a moment. She was so little interested in the
+matter that she found it difficult to make up her mind either way.
+Afterwards she scarcely dared think of that moment's indecision.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so," she said. "All the same, I detest Mr. Chapman. I should
+vote for Mr. Brown."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown it shall be, then!" he answered. "Douglas shall write him
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>A fortnight later Mr. Bernard Brown took up his quarters at Falcon's
+Nest.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MURDER NEAR THE FALCON'S NEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I call it perfectly dreadful of those men!" Helen Thurwell exclaimed
+suddenly. "They're more than an hour late, and I'm desperately hungry!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is rank ingratitude!" Rachel Kynaston sighed. "I positively cannot
+sit still and look at that luncheon any longer. Groves, give me a
+biscuit."</p>
+
+<p>They were both seated on low folding-chairs out on the open moorland,
+only a few yards away from the edge of the rugged line of cliffs against
+which, many hundreds of feet below, the sea was breaking with a low
+monotonous murmur. Close behind them, on a level stretch of springy
+turf, a roughly improvised table, covered with a cloth of dazzling
+whiteness, was laden with deep bowls of lobster salad, <i>p&acirc;tes de foie
+gras</i>, chickens, truffled turkeys, piles of hothouse fruit, and many
+other delicacies peculiarly appreciated at <i>al fresco</i> symposia; and, a
+little further away still, under the shade of a huge yellow gorse bush,
+were several ice-pails, in which were reposing many rows of gold-foiled
+bottles. The warm sun was just sufficiently tempered by a mild
+heather-scented breeze, and though it flashed gayly upon the glass and
+silver, and danced across the bosom of the blue water below, its heat
+was more pleasant than oppressive. The two women who sat there looked
+delightfully cool. Helen Thurwell especially, in her white holland gown,
+with a great bunch of heather stuck in her belt, and a faint healthy
+glow in her cheeks, looked as only an English country girl of good birth
+can look&mdash;the very personification of dainty freshness.</p>
+
+<p>"There go the guns again!" she exclaimed. "Listen to the echoes. They
+can't be far away now."</p>
+
+<p>There was a little murmur of satisfaction. Every allowance is to be made
+for such a keen sportsman as Mr. Thurwell on the glorious twelfth, but
+the time fixed for the rendezvous had been exceeded by more than an
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>"I have reached the limit of my endurance!" Rachel Kynaston declared,
+getting up from her seat. "I must either lunch or faint! As a matter of
+choice, I prefer the former."</p>
+
+<p>"They will be here directly, miss," Groves remarked, as he completed the
+finishing touches which he had been putting to the table, and stepped
+back a little to view the effect. So far as he was concerned they might
+come any time now. For once his subordinates had not failed him. Nothing
+had been forgotten; and, on the whole, he felt that he had reason to be
+proud of his handiwork.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced away inland again, shading his eyes with his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"They'll be coming round the Black Copse in five minutes," he said, half
+to himself. "James, get the other chairs out of the wagon."</p>
+
+<p>Rachel Kynaston was still standing up looking around her. Suddenly her
+eyes fell upon a quaintly built cottage, perched upon the edge of the
+cliff about a mile away.</p>
+
+<p>"I meant to ask you before, Helen," she exclaimed. "Who lives in that
+extraordinary-looking building&mdash;Falcon's Nest, I think you call it?"</p>
+
+<p>She moved her parasol in its direction, and looked at it curiously. A
+strange-looking abode it certainly was; built of yellow stone, with a
+background of stunted fir trees which stretched half way down the cliff
+side.</p>
+
+<p>Helen Thurwell looked across at it indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you his name, and that is all," she answered. "He calls
+himself Mr. Brown&mdash;Mr. Bernard Brown."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, who is he? What does he do?"</p>
+
+<p>Helen shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, I haven't the least idea," she declared. "I do not even know
+what he is like. He has been there for two months, and we haven't seen
+him yet. Papa called upon him, but he was out. He has not returned the
+call! He&mdash;oh, bother Mr. Brown, here they come! I'm so glad!"</p>
+
+<p>They both got up and looked. Rounding the corner of a long plantation,
+about half a mile away, were several men in broken line, with their guns
+under their arms; and a little way behind came three keepers, carrying
+bags.</p>
+
+<p>Rachel Kynaston looked at them fixedly.</p>
+
+<p>"One, two, three, four, five," she counted. "One short. I don't see
+Geoffrey."</p>
+
+<p>Helen moved to her side, and shaded her eyes with her hand. On the
+fourth finger a half hoop of diamonds, which had not been there three
+months ago, was flashing in the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I," she said. "I wonder where he is."</p>
+
+<p>Her tone was a little indifferent, considering that it was her <i>fianc&eacute;</i>
+who was missing. But no one ever looked for much display of feeling from
+Helen Thurwell, not even the man who called himself her lover. Indeed,
+her unresponsiveness to his advances&mdash;a sort of delicate composure which
+he was powerless in any way to break through&mdash;had been her strongest
+attraction to Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, who was quite unused to anything of
+the sort.</p>
+
+<p>The men quickened their pace, and emptying their guns into the air, soon
+came within hailing distance. On that particular day of the year there
+was only one possible greeting, and Helen and her companion contented
+themselves with a monosyllable.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell was in the front rank, and evidently in the best of
+spirits. It was he who answered them.</p>
+
+<p>"Capital sport!" he declared heartily. "Birds a little wild, but strong,
+and plenty of them. We've made a big bag for only three guns. Sir
+Geoffrey was in capital form. Groves, open a bottle of Heidseck."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Geoffrey?" asked Rachel&mdash;his sister.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell looked round and discovered his absence for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't know," he answered, a little bewildered; "He was with us
+a few minutes ago. What's become of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, Heggs?" he
+asked, turning round to one of the gamekeepers.</p>
+
+<p>"He left us at the top of the Black Copse, sir," the man answered. "He
+was coming round by the other side&mdash;shot a woodcock there once, sir," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>They glanced across the moor toward Falcon's Nest. There was no one in
+sight.</p>
+
+<p>"He's had plenty of time to get round," remarked Lord Lathon, throwing
+down his gun. "Perhaps he's resting."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No; he wouldn't do that," he said. "He was as keen about getting here
+as any of us. Hark! what was that?"</p>
+
+<p>A faint sound was borne across the moor on the lazily stirring breeze.
+Helen, whose hearing was very keen, started, and the little party
+exchanged uneasy glances.</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been a sea-gull," remarked Lord Lathon, who wanted his
+luncheon very badly indeed. "We'd better not wait for him. He'll turn up
+all right; Geoffrey always does. Come&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He broke off suddenly in his speech and listened. There was another
+sound, and this time there was no mistake about it. It was the low,
+prolonged howl of a spaniel&mdash;a mournful sound which struck a strange
+note in the afternoon stillness. There was breathless silence for a
+moment amongst the little group, and the becoming glow died out of
+Helen's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>Rachel Kynaston was the first to recover herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Had Sir Geoffrey a dog with him, Heggs?" she asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss," the man answered. "His favorite spaniel had got unchained
+somehow, and found us on the moor. I saw her at heel when he left us.
+She was very quiet, and Sir Geoffrey wouldn't have her sent back."</p>
+
+<p>"Then something has happened to him!" she cried. "That was Fido's howl."</p>
+
+<p>"Has anyone heard his gun?" Mr. Thurwell asked.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one left to answer him. They had all started across the
+moor toward the black patch of spinneys around which Sir Geoffrey should
+have come. Mr. Thurwell, forgetting his fatigue, hurried after them;
+and Helen, after a moment's hesitation, followed too, some distance
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>She ran swiftly, but her dress caught often in the prickly gorse, and
+she had to pause each time to release herself. Soon she found herself
+alone, for the others had all turned the corner of the plantation before
+she reached it. There was a strong, sickly sense of coming disaster
+swelling in her heart, and her knees were tottering. Still she held on
+her way bravely. A few yards before she reached the corner of the
+plantation, she almost ran into the arms of Lord Lathon, who was
+hurrying back to meet her. There was a ghastly shade in his pale face,
+and his voice trembled.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell," he exclaimed in an agitated tone, "you must not come!
+Let me take you back. Something&mdash;has happened! I am going to Rachel.
+Come with me."</p>
+
+<p>She drew away from him, and threw off his restraining arm.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I must see for myself. Let me pass, please&mdash;at once."</p>
+
+<p>He tried again to prevent her, but she eluded him. A few rapid steps and
+she had gained the corner. There they all were in a little group
+scarcely a dozen yards away. A mist floated before her eyes, but she
+would see; she was determined that she would see this thing for herself.
+She struggled on a few steps nearer. There was something lying on the
+grass around which they were all gathered; something very much like a
+human shape. Ah! she could see more plainly now. It was Sir
+Geoffrey&mdash;Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. He was lying half on the grass and half
+in the dry ditch. His white face was upturned to the cloudless sky; by
+his side, and discoloring his brown tweed shooting coat, was a dark wet
+stain. In the midst of it something bright was flashing in the sunlight.</p>
+
+<p>She stood still, rooted to the spot with a great horror. Her pulses had
+ceased to beat. The warm summer day seemed suddenly to have closed in
+around her. There was a singing in her ears, and she found herself
+battling hard with a deadly faintness. Yet she found words.</p>
+
+<p>"Has he&mdash;shot himself?" she cried. "Is it an accident?"</p>
+
+<p>Her father turned round with a little cry, and hastened to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen!" he gasped. "You should not be here! Come away, child! I sent
+Lathon&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I will know&mdash;what it is. Is it an accident? Is he&mdash;dead?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. The healthy sunburnt tan had left his face, and he
+was white to the lips.</p>
+
+<p>"He has been murdered!" he faltered. "Foully, brutally murdered!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. BERNARD BROWN</h3>
+
+
+<p>Murder is generally associated in one's mind with darkness, the still
+hours of night, and bestiality. It is the outcome of the fierce animal
+lust for blood, provoked by low passions working in low minds. De
+Quincey's brilliant attempt to elevate it to a place among the fine arts
+has only enriched its horrors as an abstract idea. Even detached from
+its usual environment of darkness, and ignorance, and vice, it is an
+ugly thing.</p>
+
+<p>But here was something quite different. Such a tragedy as this which had
+just occurred was possessed of a peculiar hideousness of its own. It
+seemed to have completely laid hold of the little group of men gathered
+round the body of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston; to have bereft them of all
+reasoning power and thought, to have numbed even their limbs and
+physical instincts. It was only a few minutes ago since they had left
+him, careless and debonair, with his thoughts intent upon the business,
+or rather the sport, of the hour. His laugh had been the loudest, his
+enjoyment the keenest, and his gun the most deadly of them all. But now
+he lay there cold and lifeless, with his heart's blood staining the
+green turf, and his sightless eyes dull and glazed. It was an awful
+thing!</p>
+
+<p>Physically, he had been the very model of an English country gentleman,
+tall and powerful, with great broad shoulders, and strikingly upright
+carriage, full of vigorous animal life, with the slight restlessness of
+the constant traveler banished by his sudden passion for the girl who
+had so lately promised to be his wife.</p>
+
+<p>She drew a little nearer&mdash;they were all too much overcome by the shock
+of this thing to prevent her&mdash;and stood with glazed eyes looking down
+upon him. Everything, even the minutest article of his dress, seemed to
+appeal to her with a strange vividness. She found herself even studying
+the large check of his shooting-coat and the stockings which she had
+once laughingly admired, and which he had ever since worn. Her eyes
+rested upon the sprig of heliotrope which, with her own fingers, she had
+arranged in his button hole, as they had strolled down the garden
+together just before the start; and the faint perfume which reached her
+where she stood, helped her to realize that she was in the thrall of no
+nightmare, but that this thing had really happened. She had never loved
+him, she had never even pretended to love him, and it was less any sense
+of personal loss than the hideous sin of it which swept in upon her as
+she stood there looking down upon him. She recognized, as she could
+never have done had he been personally dear to her, the ethical horror
+of the thing. The faintness which had almost numbed her senses passed
+away. In that swift battle of many sensations it was anger which
+survived.</p>
+
+<p>Her voice first broke the deep, awed stillness.</p>
+
+<p>"Who has done this?" she cried, pointing downward.</p>
+
+<p>Her words were like a sudden awakening to them all. They had been
+standing like figures in a silent tableau, stricken dumb and motionless.
+Now there was a stir. The fire in her tone had dissolved their torpor.
+She was standing on rising ground a little above the rest of them, and
+her attitude, together with the gesture by which she enforced her words,
+was full of intense dramatic force. The slim undulating beauty of her
+form was enhanced by the slight disorder of her dress, and her red-gold
+hair&mdash;she had lost her hat&mdash;shone and glistened in the sunlight till
+every thread was shining like burnished gold. They themselves were in
+the shade of the dark pine trees, and she standing upon the margin of
+the moor with the warm sunlight glowing around her, seemed like a being
+of another world. Afterwards when they recalled that scene&mdash;and there
+was no one there who ever forgot it&mdash;they could scarcely tell which
+seemed the most terrible part to them&mdash;the lifeless body of the murdered
+man with the terrible writing of death in his white face, or the tragic
+figure of Helen Thurwell, the squire's cold, graceful daughter, with her
+placid features and whole being suddenly transformed with this wave of
+passion.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell drew a few steps backward, and his keen gray eyes swept the
+open country round.</p>
+
+<p>"There was no one in sight when we got here; but the blackguard can't be
+far away!" he said. "Heggs, and you, Smith, and you, Cook, go through
+the spinney as fast as you can, one in the middle and one on each side,
+mind! I will go up Falcon's Hill and look round. Jem, run to Mallory as
+fast as you can for Dr. Holmes, and on to the police station. Quick! all
+of you. There's not a moment to lose!"</p>
+
+<p>The desire for action was as strong in them now as had been their former
+torpor. Mr. Thurwell and his daughter were alone in less than a minute.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen, I forgot you!" he exclaimed. "I can't leave you alone, and some
+one must stay here. Where is Lathon?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has gone on to take Rachel home," she answered. "I will stay here. I
+am not afraid. Quick! you can see for miles from the top of the hill and
+you have your field glass. Oh, do go. Go!"</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated, but she was evidently very much in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"I will just climb the hill and hurry down again," he said. "I cannot
+leave you here for more than a few minutes. If only we had more men with
+us!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned away, and walked swiftly across the moor toward the hill. For
+a minute or two she stood watching his departing figure. Then she turned
+round with a shudder and buried her face in her clasped hands. Her
+appearance was less hard now and more natural, for a sickly sense of
+horror at the sight of his body was commencing to assert itself over
+that first strange instinct of passionate anger. It was none the less
+dreadful to her because in a certain way his removal was a release. She
+had promised to marry this man, but there had been scarcely a moment
+since when she had not found herself regretting it. Now the sense of
+freedom, which she could not altogether evade, was like torture to her.
+She dropped on her knees by his side, and took his cold hand in hers. A
+few hours ago she dared not have done this, knowing very well that at
+the caressing touch of her fingers, she would have felt his strong arms
+around her in a passionate and distasteful embrace. But there was no
+fear of this now. She would never have to shrink away from him again. He
+was dead!</p>
+
+<p>The warm sunlight was glancing among the thickly growing pine trees in
+the plantation by her side, casting quaint shadows on the cone-strewn
+ground, across the little piece of broken paling in the bottom of the
+dry ditch, and upon the mossy bank where his head was resting upon a
+sweet-smelling tuft of heather. Most of all it flashed and glittered
+upon the inch or two of steel which still lay buried in his side&mdash;a
+curiously shaped little dagger which, although she strove to keep her
+eyes away from it, seemed to have a sort of fascination for her. Every
+time her eyes fell upon it, she turned away quickly with a little
+shudder; but, nevertheless, she looked at it more than once&mdash;and she
+remembered it.</p>
+
+<p>The deep stillness of the autumn afternoon presently became almost
+oppressive to her. There was the far-off, sweet low murmur of a placid
+sea rolling in upon the base of the cliffs, the constant chirping of
+ground insects, and the occasional scurrying of a rabbit through the
+undergrowth. Once a great lean rat stole up from the ditch,
+and&mdash;horrible&mdash;ran across his body; but at the sound of her startled
+movement it paused, sat for a moment quite still, with its wide-open
+black eyes blinking at her, and then to her inexpressible relief
+scampered away. She was used to the country, with its intense unbroken
+silence, but she had never felt it so hard to bear as on that afternoon.
+Time became purely relative to her. As a matter of fact, she knew
+afterwards that she could not have been alone more than five minutes. It
+was like an eternity. She listened in vain for any human sound, even for
+the far-off sweep of the scythe in the bracken, or the call of the
+laborer to his horses. The tension of those moments was horrible.</p>
+
+<p>She plucked a handful of bay leaves from the ditch, and strove, by
+pressing them against her temple, to cool the fever in her blood. Then
+she took up once more her position by his side, for horrible though the
+sight of it was, his body seemed to have a sort of fascination for her,
+and she could not wander far away from it. Once or twice she had looked
+round, but there had been no human figure in sight, nor any sign of any.
+But as she knelt there on the short turf, pressing the cool leaves to
+her aching forehead, she was suddenly conscious of a new sensation.
+Without hearing or seeing anything, she knew that some one was
+approaching, and, stranger still, she was conscious of a distinct
+reluctance to turn her head and see who it was. She heard no footsteps;
+the soft stillness was broken by the sound of no human voice. She wished
+to turn round, and yet she shrank from it. Something fresh was going to
+happen&mdash;something was at hand to trouble her. She made a great effort,
+and rose to her feet. Then, breaking through her conscious reluctance,
+she turned round.</p>
+
+<p>A single figure, at that moment on a slightly elevated ridge of the bare
+moor, stood out against the sky. He was walking swiftly toward her, and
+yet without any appearance of hurry; and from the direction in which he
+was coming, it was evident that he had just left Falcon's Nest. This
+fact and his being unknown to her sufficiently established his identity.
+It was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>AN EVIL END TO AN EVIL LIFE</h3>
+
+
+<p>They say that, as a rule, the most grotesquely unimportant trifles flash
+into the mind and engage the last thoughts of a drowning man. Regarding
+this in the light of an analogy, something of the same sort was now
+happening to Helen Thurwell.</p>
+
+<p>With her mind steeped in the horror of the last few hours, she yet found
+that she was able afterwards to recall every slight particular with
+regard to this man's appearance, and even his dress. She remembered the
+firm evenness of his movements, swift, yet free from all ungraceful
+haste; the extreme shabbiness of his coat, his ill-arranged neck-tie,
+escaped from all restraint of collar and waistcoat, and flying loosely
+behind him; his trousers very much turned up, and very much frayed, and
+the almost singular height of his loose angular figure. His face,
+too&mdash;she remembered that better than anything&mdash;with its pale hollow
+cheeks and delicate outline, deep-set dark blue eyes, black eyebrows,
+and long, unkempt hair, which would have looked very much the better for
+a little trimming. A man utterly regardless of his appearance, untidy,
+almost slovenly in his attire, yet with something about him different
+from other men.</p>
+
+<p>He was within a few yards of her when she saw a sudden change flash into
+his face as their eyes met. He hesitated and a faint color came into his
+cheeks, only to fade away again immediately, leaving them whiter than
+ever. There was something in his intense gaze which at that time she had
+no means of understanding. But it was over in a moment. He advanced
+rapidly, and stood by her side.</p>
+
+<p>She still watched him. She could see that his whole frame was vibrating
+with strong internal emotion as he looked downward on the glazed eyes
+and motionless form of the murdered man. His lips were pallid, and his
+hands were tightly clasped together. There was one thing which seemed to
+her very strange. He had not started, or exhibited the least sign of
+surprise at the dreadful sight. It was almost as though he had known all
+about it.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a terrible thing," she said in a low tone, breaking the silence
+between them for the first time. "You have heard of it, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>He dropped down on one knee, and bent close over the dead man, feeling
+his heart and pulse. In that position his face was hidden from her.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I knew nothing. He has been killed&mdash;like this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Did anyone see it? Is the man caught?"</p>
+
+<p>"We know nothing," she answered. "We found him like this. There was no
+one in sight."</p>
+
+<p>He rose deliberately to his feet. Her heart was beating fast now, and
+she looked searchingly into his face. It told her little. He was grave,
+but perfectly composed.</p>
+
+<p>"How is it that you are alone here?" he asked. "Does no one else know of
+this?"</p>
+
+<p>She moved her head in assent.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but they have all gone to hunt for the murderer. If only you had
+been looking from your window, you would have seen it all!"</p>
+
+<p>He did not look as though he shared her regret. He was standing on the
+other side of the dead man, with his arms folded and his eyes fixed
+steadily upon the cold white face. He seemed to have forgotten her
+presence.</p>
+
+<p>"An evil end to an evil life," he said slowly to himself, and then he
+added something which she did not hear.</p>
+
+<p>"You knew him, then?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her for a moment fixedly, and then down again into the dead
+man's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard of him abroad," he said. "Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was a man
+with a reputation."</p>
+
+<p>"You will remember that he is dead," she said slowly, for the scorn in
+his words troubled her.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed his head, and was silent. Watching him closely, she could see
+that he was far more deeply moved than appeared on the surface. His
+teeth were set together, and there was a curious faint flush of color in
+his livid cheeks. She followed his eyes, wondering. They were fixed, not
+upon the dead man's face, but on the dagger which lay buried in his
+heart, and the handle of which was still visible.</p>
+
+<p>"That should be a clue," he remarked, breaking a short silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I hope to God that they will find the wretch!" she answered
+passionately.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him as she spoke. His eyes were traveling over the
+moor, and his hand was shading them.</p>
+
+<p>"There is some one coming," he said. "We shall know very soon."</p>
+
+<p>She followed his rapt gaze, and saw three men coming toward them. One
+was her father, another the underkeeper, and the third was a stranger.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INNER ROOM AT THE FALCON'S NEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Together they watched the approaching figures. Helen, standing a little
+apart, had the better view.</p>
+
+<p>"There is my father, and Heggs, and some one whom I do not know," she
+announced quietly. "I wonder if it is a doctor."</p>
+
+<p>He did not answer her. She glanced toward him, wondering at his silence
+and rigid attitude. His eyes were still bent upon the three men, and
+there was a hard, strained look in his white face. While she was
+watching him she saw a spasm of what seemed almost like physical pain
+pass across his countenance. Certainly this was no unfeeling man. In his
+way he seemed as deeply moved as she herself was.</p>
+
+<p>They were quite close now, and she had a good view of the stranger. He
+did not look, by any means, a person to be afraid of. In all her life
+she thought she had never seen such a handsome old gentleman&mdash;and
+gentleman he most assuredly was. His hair was quite white, and his
+beard&mdash;carefully trimmed and pointed after the fashion of one of
+Velasquez' pictures&mdash;was of the same color. Yet his walk was upright and
+vigorous, and he carried himself with dignity. His high forehead, and
+rather long, oval face, with its delicate, clearly cut features, had at
+once the stamp of intellect and benevolence, and, as though preserved by
+careful and refined living, had still much of the freshness of youth.
+He was dressed in a rough tweed walking-suit, with gaiters and thick
+boots, and carried under his arm a somewhat ponderous book, and a
+botanical specimen case. Helen felt a woman's instinctive liking for him
+before she had even heard him speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you thought us long, Helen?" her father exclaimed anxiously. "We
+haven't seen anything of the scoundrel, but Heggs was fortunate enough
+to meet Sir Allan Beaumerville on the moor, and he very kindly offered
+to return."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan was on his knees by the body before Mr. Thurwell had finished
+his sentence. They all watched his brief examination.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor fellow! poor fellow!" he exclaimed in a shocked tone. "That
+wretched thing"&mdash;lightly touching the handle of the dagger&mdash;"is clean
+through his heart. It was a strong, cruel arm that drove that home.
+Nothing can be done, of course. He must have died within a few seconds!"
+He rose from his knees and looked around. "What is to be done with the
+body?" he asked. "It must be removed somewhere. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+did you say it was? Dear me! dear me! I knew his sister quite well."</p>
+
+<p>"She is not far away," Mr. Thurwell said. "She and my daughter were
+awaiting luncheon for us on the cliffs yonder, when this horrible thing
+occurred. Lathon went back to look for her. We were afraid that she
+might follow us here. She was very fond of her brother, and he had only
+just returned home after many years' traveling."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor fellow!" Sir Allan said softly. "But about moving him. Who lives
+in that queer-looking place yonder?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell, who knew his tenant by sight, although they had never
+spoken, looked at him and hesitated. Sir Allan did the same.</p>
+
+<p>"That is where I live," Mr. Brown said slowly. "If Mr. Thurwell thinks
+well, let him be taken there."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke without looking round or addressing any one in particular. His
+back was turned upon the celebrated physician.</p>
+
+<p>"The nearest place would be best, in a case like this," Sir Allan
+remarked. "Have you sent for any help?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some of my men are coming across the moor there," Mr. Thurwell said,
+pointing them out. "They can take a gate off the hinges to carry him on."</p>
+
+<p>A little troop of awed servants, whom Lord Lathon had sent down from the
+Court, together with some farm laborers whom they had picked up on the
+way, were soon on the spot.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell gave some brief directions, and in a few minutes the high
+five-barred gate, with "private" painted across it in white letters, was
+taken from its hinges, and the body carefully laid upon it. Then Mr.
+Thurwell turned resolutely to his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen, you must go home now," he said firmly. "Jackson will take you.
+We can spare him easily."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather stay," she said quietly. "I shall not faint, or do
+anything stupid, I promise you."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan Beaumerville looked at her curiously. It was a strange thing
+to him, notwithstanding his wide experience, to find a girl of her years
+so little outwardly moved by so terrible a tragedy. Mr. Thurwell, too,
+was surprised. He knew that she had never loved Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+but, nevertheless, he had expected her to show more emotion than this,
+if only for the horror of it all. And yet, looking at her more closely,
+he began to understand&mdash;to realize that her calmness was only attained
+by a strenuous repression of feeling, and that underneath it all was
+something very different. Though her voice was firm, her cheeks were
+deadly pale, and there was a peculiar tightening of the lips and light
+in her eyes which puzzled him. Her expression seemed to speak less of
+passive grief, than of some active determination&mdash;some strong desire.
+She had all the appearance of a woman who was bracing herself up for
+some ordeal, nerving herself with all the stimulus of a firm will to
+triumph over her natural feelings, and follow out a difficult purpose.
+Mr. Thurwell scarcely recognized his own daughter. She was no longer a
+somewhat languid, beautiful girl, looking out upon the world with a sort
+of petulant indifference&mdash;petulant, because, with all the high
+aspirations of a somewhat romantic disposition, she could see nothing in
+it to interest her. All that had passed away. The warm breath of some
+awakening force in her nature seemed to have swept before it all her
+languor, and all her petulance. They were gone, and in their place was a
+certain air of reserve and thoughtful strength which seems always to
+cling to those men and women who face the world with a definite purpose
+before them. Mr. Thurwell knitted his brows, and had nothing to say.</p>
+
+<p>A sad little procession was formed, and started slowly for the cottage
+on the cliff side, the four stalwart men stooping beneath their heavy
+burden, and somehow falling into the measured steady tramp common to
+corpse bearers. None of them ever forgot that walk. Slowly they wound
+their way around many brilliant patches of deep yellow gorse and purple
+heather, and the warm sunlight glancing across the moor and glittering
+away over the water threw a strange glow upon the still, cold face of
+their ghastly burden. A soft breeze sprung from the sea, herald of the
+advancing eventide, following the drowsy languor of the perfect autumnal
+day. The faintly stirred air was full of its quickening exhilaration,
+but it found no human response in their heavy hearts. Solemn thoughts
+and silence came over all of them. Scarcely a word was spoken on the way
+to their destination.</p>
+
+<p>By some chance, or at least it seemed like chance, Helen found herself a
+few steps behind the others, with Mr. Brown by her side. They, too,
+walked along in unbroken silence. His eyes were steadily fixed upon the
+ground, hers were wandering idly across the sparkling blue sea with its
+foam-crested furrows to the horizon. Whatever her thoughts were, they
+had changed her expression for the time; to a certain extent its late
+definiteness was gone, and a dreamy, refined abstraction had taken its
+place.</p>
+
+<p>"If I had to die," she said, half to herself, "I would choose to die on
+such a day as this."</p>
+
+<p>He raised his dark eyes and looked at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely know," she said hesitatingly. "And yet, in my own mind, I
+do. It is so beautiful! It seems to give one a sense of peace and
+hope&mdash;I cannot explain it. It is the sort of thing one feels, and feels
+only."</p>
+
+<p>He looked down again.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you mean. You would fear annihilation less?"</p>
+
+<p>"Annihilation! Is that your creed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes, if it were not for scenes like this, I might believe it
+possible," he answered slowly. "As it is, I do not! The exquisite beauty
+of the earth denies it! I pin my faith to a great analogy. The natural
+world is a reflex of the spiritual, and in the natural world there is no
+annihilation. Nothing can ever die. Nor can our souls ever die."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him keenly. The dreamy speculation had gone from her eyes.
+The fire of her former purpose had returned.</p>
+
+<p>"It is well to feel like that. You would rather be Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, then, than his murderer, even now?"</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hand quickly to his forehead, as though in pain. It was
+gone in an instant, but she had been watching.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I would," he answered fervently. "Sir Geoffrey was a wicked man,
+but he may have repented. He had his opportunities."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know that he was wicked?" she asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"I heard of him abroad&mdash;many years ago. Will you excuse me, Miss
+Thurwell. I must hurry on and open the door for them."</p>
+
+<p>He walked swiftly on, leaving her alone. When they reached their
+destination, he was there waiting for them.</p>
+
+<p>It was a strangely situated and strangely built abode. A long low
+building of deep yellow stone, half hidden by various creepers, and
+inaccessible on the side from which they approached it save to foot
+passengers. From the bottom of the winding path which they had to climb
+it seemed to hang almost sheer over the cliff side. A thickly growing
+patch of stunted pine trees rising abruptly in the background literally
+overtopped the tiled roof. From the summit of this plantation to the sea
+was one abrupt precipice, thickly overgrown for the first hundred feet
+or so by pine trees growing out from the side of the cliff in strange
+huddled fashion, the haunt of sea birds and a few daring rabbits.</p>
+
+<p>They passed in at the hand-gate, and toiled up the steep path, threading
+their way among a wilderness of overgrown box shrubs, long dank grass
+and strange weeds. Helen, with her eyes fixed upon an open window on the
+right wing of the cottage, fell a little behind. The others came to a
+halt before the open door.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown met them and preceded them along the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"I think he had better be carried in here," he said, motioning toward
+the room on the left-hand side, the side remote from the sea. "I have
+brought a sofa."</p>
+
+<p>They stood on the threshold and looked in. The room was absolutely
+unfurnished, and the shutters had only just been thrown back, letting in
+long level gleams of sunlight, which fell upon the bare floor and damp
+walls, from which the discolored paper was commencing to peel off. Long
+cobwebs hung from the ceiling, waving slowly backward and forward in the
+unaccustomed draught. Helen Thurwell, who had just joined the little
+group, with a curious light in her eyes, and a deep spot of color in her
+pale cheeks, looked around and shivered. Mr. Thurwell, with a landlord's
+instinct, began to wonder who was at fault, his agent or his tenant.</p>
+
+<p>The four men tramped in, their footsteps sounding dreary and mournful on
+the uncarpeted floor, and awakening strange rumbling echoes. Helen
+looked at them for a moment, all clustered round the single sofa which
+stood in the middle of the apartment, and then stepped softly back again
+into the hall. She looked around her eagerly, yet with no idle
+curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>The whole interior of the place appeared bare and comfortless. There
+were no rugs in the hall, no carpet on the stairs, nor a single sign of
+habitation. Nor was there any servant about. She looked again into the
+room out of which she had just stepped. They were preparing to lift the
+body from the gate, which they had laid upon the floor, on to the sofa.
+She stepped back into the hall, and listened. There was no sound from
+any other part of the house. They were all too deeply engrossed to think
+of her. It was her chance!</p>
+
+<p>She was very pale, and very resolute. The look which had come into her
+face for so short a time ago had had its meaning. The time for action
+had come. It was sooner than she had expected; but she was ready.</p>
+
+<p>With swift noiseless step she crossed the hall and softly turned the
+handle of the door on the opposite side. It opened at once, and she
+stepped inside. She listened again. As yet she was undetected. She drew
+a little breath and glanced searchingly around her.</p>
+
+<p>This room, too, was unfurnished, save that the floor was covered with
+cases full of books. Straight in front of her was another door, leading,
+as she knew, into a smaller apartment. Dare she go forward? She listened
+for a moment. There was no sound save the low muffled voices of the men
+who were lifting Sir Geoffrey on to the couch. Supposing she were
+discovered here? At the most, she would be suspected of a vulgar
+curiosity. It all flashed through her mind in a moment, and her decision
+was taken. Gathering her skirts in her hand lest they should catch
+against the edges of the cases, she threaded her way through them, and
+stood before the door of the inner room. She tried the handle. It
+yielded easily to her touch. She had gone too far to draw back now. In a
+moment she had passed the threshold, and the whole contents of the
+little room were disclosed to her.</p>
+
+<p>Of all the senses, the eyes seem to carry the most lasting impression to
+the brain. One eager glance around, and the whole seemed photographed
+into her memory. A little strip of faded carpet only half covering the
+floor, piles upon piles of books, and a small table littered all over
+with foolscap, a few fine prints and etchings roughly hung upon the
+walls, a group of exquisite statuettes all huddled together, and an oak
+cabinet strongly bound with brass clasps&mdash;they were the things she
+chiefly remembered. The whole room was in the wildest disorder, as
+though the contents had been just shot inside and left to arrange
+themselves.</p>
+
+<p>After that single cursory glance, Helen looked no more around her. Her
+whole attention was riveted upon the window exactly opposite. As she had
+seen from the outside, it was wide open, and several branches of a shrub
+growing up against it were broken off. From the leaves of the same shrub
+several drops of water were hanging, and on the ground below was a wet
+patch. She looked back into the room again. In one corner was an empty
+basin, and by its side, rolled up tightly, was a rough towel.</p>
+
+<p>Before she could make any movement in that direction, another thing
+struck her. On a certain spot close by the side of the basin a pile of
+books was arranged in disorderly fashion enough, but with some little
+method. An idea flashed in upon her. They were arranged in that manner
+to hide something upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>She made a quick motion forward. Then she stopped short, and lifted her
+eyes to the door. Her cheeks burned, and her heart beat fast. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was standing on the threshold, looking at her in mute
+amazement, and over his shoulder was the pale stern face of Mr. Brown.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>A TERRIBLE ENEMY</h3>
+
+
+<p>Afterwards Helen looked back upon those few moments as the most
+uncomfortable of her life. She was caught in the very act of a most
+unwarrantable and even immodest intrusion, which in the eyes of these
+two men could only appear like the attempted gratification of a
+reprehensible and vulgar curiosity. She made one spasmodic attempt to
+kindle her suspicions into a definite accusation, to stand upon her
+dignity, and demand an explanation of what she had seen. But she failed
+utterly. Directly she tried to clothe the shreds of this idea of hers
+with words, and to express them, she seemed to vividly realize the
+almost ludicrous improbability of the whole thing. One glance into the
+pale, dignified face which was bent upon her full of unconcerned
+surprise&mdash;and hateful to her with a gentle shade of pity at her
+confusion already creeping into it&mdash;and her attempt collapsed. She felt
+her cheeks burn with shame, and her eyes drooped before his steady gaze.
+She began to long feverishly for something to dissolve the situation.
+The silence was dreadful to her, but she could think of nothing to say.
+It was Mr. Brown, at last, who spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"I was afraid you would not be able to find your way, Miss Thurwell," he
+said quietly. "I must apologize for asking you to come into such a den.
+The small engraving on the wall is the proof 'Bartolozzi' I spoke to you
+about. The head is perfect, is it not? Some day I should like to show
+you my 'Guido.' I am afraid, just now, I could not expect you to
+appreciate them."</p>
+
+<p>She murmured something&mdash;what, she scarcely knew, and he did not appear
+to hear. The cold surprise disappeared from Sir Allan's face. Evidently
+he believed in Mr. Brown's mercifully offered explanation of her
+presence here.</p>
+
+<p>"What! are you an enthusiast, Miss Thurwell?" he exclaimed. "Well, well,
+I was worse myself once in my younger days, before my profession made a
+slave of me. Surely, that is a genuine 'Velasquez,' Mr. Brown. Upon my
+word! Fancy coming across such a treasure here!"</p>
+
+<p>He picked his way across the disorderly chamber, and, adjusting his
+eyeglass, stood looking at the picture. Helen made a hasty movement
+towards the door, and Mr. Brown followed her into the adjoining room.</p>
+
+<p>"If I had known that I was to be honored by a visit from a lady," he
+said, "I would have endeavored&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She turned suddenly round upon him with flaming cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't," she interrupted, almost beseechingly. "Mr. Brown, you were very
+good to me just then. Thank you! I was most abominably rude to go into
+that room without your permission."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were fixed upon the floor, and her distress was evident. It was
+clear that she felt her position acutely.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray say no more about it," he begged earnestly. "It isn't worth a
+second thought."</p>
+
+<p>She stopped with her back to one of the great cases filled with books,
+and hesitated. Should she confess to him frankly why she had gone
+there, and ask his pardon for such a wild thought? She raised her eyes
+slowly, and looked at him. Of course it was absurd. She has been out of
+her mind, she knew that now; and yet&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him more closely still. He had not seemed in any way
+disturbed when they had found her in that room&mdash;only a little surprised
+and bewildered. And yet, after all, supposing his composed demeanor had
+been only assumed. He was certainly very pale, very pale indeed, and
+there was a slight twitching of his hands which was out of character
+with his absolute impassiveness. Supposing it should be a forced
+composure. He looked like a man capable of exercising a strong control
+over his feelings. Supposing it should be so. Was there not, after all,
+just a chance that her former suspicions were correct?</p>
+
+<p>The action of the mind is instantaneous. All these thoughts and doubts
+merely flashed through it, and they left her very confused and
+undecided. Her sense of gratitude towards him for shielding her before
+Sir Allan Beaumerville, and the intuitive sympathy of her nature with
+the delicacy and tact which he had shown in his manner of doing so, were
+on the whole stronger than her shadowy suspicions. And yet these latter
+had just sufficient strength to check the impulse of generosity which
+prompted her to confess everything to him. She did not tell him why she
+had started on the quest which had come to such an ignominious
+conclusion. She offered him no explanation whatever.</p>
+
+<p>"It was very good of you," she repeated. "I did not deserve it at all.
+And now I must go and look for my father."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell was waiting in the hall, somewhat surprised at her
+absence. But he asked no questions. His thoughts were too full of the
+terrible thing which had happened to his friend and neighbor&mdash;and withal
+his daughter's betrothed.</p>
+
+<p>They walked back across the moor together, saying very little, for there
+was only one possible subject for conversation, and both of them shrank
+a little from speaking about it. But when they were more than half-way
+to their destination, she asked a question.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing has been discovered, I suppose, of the murderer?"</p>
+
+<p>Her father shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. The dagger is our only clue as yet&mdash;except this."</p>
+
+<p>He drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and touched it lightly
+with his finger.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it? May I see?"</p>
+
+<p>He handed it to her at once.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in his pocket," he said. "I am keeping it to hand over to the
+proper authorities. Mr. Brown offered to take care of it, but I felt
+that, as a magistrate, I was in a measure responsible for everything in
+the shape of a clue, so I brought it away with me. Read it."</p>
+
+<p>She opened the half sheet of notepaper and glanced down it. It was
+written in a queer cramped handwriting&mdash;evidently disguised.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, you are doing a very rash and foolish thing in
+coming back to your own country, and thereby publishing your whereabouts
+to the world. Have you forgotten what hangs over you&mdash;or can you be so
+mad as to think that he has forgiven? Read this as a warning; and if
+life is in any way dear to you, go back to that hiding which alone has
+kept you safe for so many years. Do not hesitate or delay for one
+half-hour&mdash;one minute may be too long. If, after reading this, you
+linger in England, and disregard my warning, take care that you look
+into your life and hold yourself prepared to die."</p>
+
+<p>She gave it back to him. There was some one, then, whom he had injured
+very deeply. It was like an echo from that stormy past of which many
+people had spoken.</p>
+
+<p>"He had an enemy," she murmured, passing her arm through her father's.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems so," he answered. "A terrible enemy."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>HELEN THURWELL'S SUSPICIONS</h3>
+
+
+<p>On a certain September day, about six weeks after the funeral of Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, Mr. Brown was spending what appeared to be a very
+pleasant afternoon. He was lying stretched out at full length on a dry
+mossy bank, with a volume of Shelley in his hand, and a case of thick
+Egyptian cigarettes by his side. In his ears was the whispering of the
+faint breeze amongst the pines, and the soft murmuring of the sea,
+hundreds of feet below, seen like a brilliant piece of patchwork through
+the fluttering leaves and dark tree-trunks which surrounded him. There
+was nothing to disturb the sweet silence of the drowsy afternoon. It was
+a charming spot which he had chosen, and he was quite alone. People,
+amongst whom for the last few weeks his name had become a fruitful
+source of conversation, were already beginning to fancy him flying
+across the country in an express train, or loitering on the docks at
+Liverpool, waiting for an Atlantic liner, or sitting at home trembling
+and fearful, struggling to hide his guilt beneath a calm exterior. But,
+as a matter of fact, he was doing none of these things. The harsh
+excitement of the busy gossips, and their stern judgment, troubled him
+nothing, for he was unconscious of them. He was away in thoughtland,
+dreaming of a fair, proud young face seen first on the rude pavement of
+an old Italian town, where its sweet composed freshness, amongst a pile
+of magnificent ruins, had captivated his artist's sense almost before it
+had touched his man's heart. He thought of the narrow street shutting in
+the sky till, looking upwards, it seemed like one deep band of glorious
+blue&mdash;of the ruined grey palace, with still some traces left of its
+former stately grace, and of the fountain playing in the moss-encrusted
+courtyard, gleaming like silver in the sunlight as it rose and fell into
+the worn stone basin. Here, where the very air seemed full of the
+records of a magnificent decay, everything seemed to form a fitting
+framework in his memory for that one face. It had been an artist's
+dream&mdash;or had it been the man's? Never the latter; he told himself
+sadly. Such were not for him. It had been better far that he had never
+seen her again. Before, the memory had been a very sweet one, stored
+away in his mind amongst all the great and beautiful things he had seen
+in his wanderings, always with a dainty freshness clinging to it, as
+though it had lain carefully preserved in perfume and spices. Was this
+new joy, of having seen and spoken to her, a better thing? this vague
+unsettlement of his being, which played havoc with his thoughts, and
+stirred up a whole host of strange new feelings in his heart? Surely
+not! It seemed to him like the breathing of warm new life into what had
+been a crystallized emotion&mdash;the humanizing of something spiritual.
+Surely, for him, it had better have remained in that first stage.</p>
+
+<p>There was the sound of a light footstep on the springy turf. He started
+to his feet. A girl, tall and slim, was coming swiftly along the winding
+path through the plantation towards him. He knew at once that it was
+Helen Thurwell.</p>
+
+<p>They were both equally surprised. As she looked up and saw him standing
+upright in the narrow path, tall, thin, and unnaturally pale, with the
+cigarette still burning between his fingers, and his book in his other
+hand, she felt strangely stirred. Neither was he unmoved by her sudden
+appearance, for though not a feature twitched, not a single gleam of
+color relieved the still pallor of his face, there was a new light in
+his dry brilliant eyes. But there was a vast difference between the
+thoughts which flashed into his mind and those which filled hers. To him
+there had stolen a sweetness into the summer's day surpassing the soft
+sunlight, and a presence which moved every pulse in his being, and crept
+like maddening fire through every sense. And to her, the sight of him
+was simply a signal to brace up all her powers of perception; to watch
+with suspicion every change of his features, and every tone of his
+voice. Had he shown any emotion at the sight of her, she would have
+attributed it to a guilty conscience, and would have made note of it in
+her mind against him. And as he showed none&mdash;none, at least, that she
+could detect&mdash;she put it down to the exercise of a strong will, and was
+a little disappointed. For she had gone with the tide, and, womanlike,
+having embraced an idea, it had already become as truth to her. Mr.
+Brown was the man who had murdered Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. It was a
+murderer with whom she was standing side by side among the glancing
+shadows of the rustling pine groves. It must be so!</p>
+
+<p>Yet she did not shrink from him. After her first hesitation at the sight
+of a man's figure standing up amongst the dark tree-trunks, she had
+walked steadily on until she had reached him. And he, without any change
+of countenance, had simply stood and watched her. God! how beautiful
+she was! The sunlight, gleaming through the tops of the trees in long
+slanting rays, played like fire upon her red-gold hair; and the plain
+black gown, which yielded easily to her graceful movements, seemed to
+show every line of her supple yet delicate figure. She came nearer
+still, so near that he could trace the faint blue veins in her forehead,
+and once more recall the peculiar color of her eyes. Then he spoke to
+her, raising his hand with a suddenly returning instinct of
+conventionality for his cap; but he had risen without it, and was
+standing before her bare-headed.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a trespasser, I fear," he said hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>She came to a standstill by his side, and shook her head slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, this is common land. There is a footpath, you see, although it is
+seldom used. It leads nowhere but to the Court."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a favorite walk of mine," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is pleasant. You bring a companion with you," she remarked,
+pointing to his book.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced down at it, and then up at her again.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; a faithful friend, too. We spend a good deal of time out of doors
+together."</p>
+
+<p>She read the title, and glanced up at him with a shade of interest in
+her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Shelley was a great poet, I suppose," she said; "but I do not
+understand him."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time his expression changed. A sudden light swept across
+his face, and in a moment it was glowing with sensibility and
+enthusiasm. She looked at him astonished. He stood before her revealed
+in a new light, and, although unwillingly, she saw him with different
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Not understand Shelley! Ah! but that is because you have not tried,
+then. If you had, you would not only understand, but you would love
+him."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head. In reality she felt that he was right, that her
+languid attempts to read him by a drawing-room fire, with the <i>Queen</i>
+beside her, and her mind very full of very little things, had not been
+the spirit in which to approach a great poet. But, partly out of womanly
+perversity, and partly out of curiosity to hear what he would say, she
+chose to dissent from him.</p>
+
+<p>"I find him too mystical," she said; "too incomprehensible."</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at her from his superior height with kindling eyes. It
+was odd how greatly she was surprised in him. She had imagined him to be
+a cynic.</p>
+
+<p>"Mystical!" he repeated. "Yes, in a certain sense, he is so; and it is
+his greatest charm. But incomprehensible!&mdash;no. The essence of all
+artistic poetry is in the perfect blending of matter and form, so that
+the meaning creeps in upon us, but with a certain vagueness, a certain
+indefiniteness, which reaches us more in the shade of a dreamy
+consciousness than through the understanding. May I give you an
+illustration? We stand upon a low plain and gaze upon a far-off range of
+hills, from the sides of which thick clouds of white mist are hanging.
+Gradually, as the sun rises higher in the heavens, they float away, and
+we begin dimly to see through a clearer atmosphere the yellow corn
+waving on the brown hillside, the smoke rising from the lonely
+farmhouse, and, if we have patience and wait still, by-and-by we can
+even distinguish the brilliant patches of wild flowers, the poppies and
+the cornflowers in the golden fields, and the marsh marigolds in the
+meadows at the foot of the hill. It is a question of waiting long
+enough. So it is with what people call mysticism in poetry."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time for many months a faint color had found its way into
+his wan cheeks. His face was alight with interest, and his dark eyes
+shone from their deep hollows with a new, soft fire. From that moment he
+assumed a new place in her thoughts. She was loath to grant it to him,
+but she had no alternative. Guilty or innocent, this man had something
+in him which placed him high above other men in her estimation. She felt
+stirred in a manner peculiarly grateful to her. It was as though every
+chord of her being had been tuned into fresh harmony; as though the hand
+of a magician had lifted the curtain which had enclosed her too narrow
+life, and had shown her a new world glowing with beauty and promise.
+She, too, wanted to feel like that; to taste the pleasures which this
+man tasted, and to feel the enthusiasm which had lit up his pale
+scholarly face.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment her mind was too full to harbor those dark suspicions.
+With a sudden effort she threw them overboard, trampled on them, scouted
+them. Was this the face and the tongue of a murderer? Surely not!</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she said softly. "I shall like to think over what you have
+said. Now I must go."</p>
+
+<p>Her words seemed to bring him back to his old self. He stooped down and
+picked up his cap.</p>
+
+<p>"You are going back to the Court?" he asked. "Let me walk to the end of
+the plantation with you."</p>
+
+<p>She assented silently, and they turned along the narrow path side by
+side. Below them a bracken-covered cliff, studded with dwarfed trees,
+ran down to the sea; and on their left hand the black firs, larger and
+growing more thickly together, shut out completely the open moorland
+beyond. He had walked there before beneath a sky of darker blue, and
+when there had been only stray gleams of moonlight shining through the
+cone-laden boughs to show him the rough path; and he had been there when
+the tree-tops had bent beneath the shrieking wind, when the black clouds
+had been flying over his head, and the roar of the angry sea had filled
+the air with thunder. And these things had stirred him&mdash;one of nature's
+sons&mdash;in many ways. Yet none of them had sent the warm blood coursing
+through his veins like quicksilver, or had stolen through his senses
+with such sweet heart-stirring impetuosity as did the presence of this
+tall, fair girl, walking serenely by his side in thoughtful silence.
+Once, when too near the edge of the cliff, she put her foot on a
+fir-cone and stumbled, and the touch of her hand, as he caught hold of
+it to steady her, sent a thrill of keen, exquisite pleasure through his
+whole frame. He held it perhaps a little longer than necessary, and she
+let him. For the moment she had lost the sense of physical touch, and
+the firm grasp of his fingers upon hers seemed to her, in a certain
+sense, only an analogy to the sudden sympathy which had sprung up
+between them. Even when realization came, she drew her hand away gently,
+without anger, without undue haste even. One glance into his face at
+that moment would have told her everything; the whole horror of the
+situation would have flashed in upon her, and she would have been
+overwhelmed. But she did not look, and long before they had come to the
+end of the path the passionate light had died out from his eyes, and had
+left no trace behind. Once more he was only a plain, sad-looking man,
+hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked, with bent head and stooping frame.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>DID YOU KILL SIR GEOFFREY KYNASTON?</h3>
+
+
+<p>At the extremity of the plantation they came to a small wicket-gate
+opening out on to the cliff top. From here there was a path inland to
+the Court, whilst Falcon's Nest was straight in front of them. At the
+parting of the ways they hesitated, for it seemed necessary that they
+should part.</p>
+
+<p>And whilst they looked around a little dazzled, having just emerged from
+the darkness of the plantation, they were conscious of a new glory in
+the heavens. Far away across the moorland the autumn sun had shot its
+last rays over the level plain and sea, and had sunk quietly to rest. It
+was not one of Turner's wild sunsets. There were no banks of angry
+clouds full of lurid coloring, flashing their glory all over the western
+sky. But in a different fashion it was equally beautiful. Long level
+streaks of transparent light, emerging from an ethereal green to a deep
+orange, lay stretched across the heavens, and a faint golden haze rising
+from the land seemed to mingle with them, and form one harmonious mass
+of coloring. And the air too was different&mdash;purer and rarer than the
+enervating atmosphere of the drowsy afternoon. Together they stood and
+became subject to the subtle charm of their environment. It seemed to
+Helen Thurwell then that a change was creeping into her life. Impersonal
+thought had attained a new strength and a new sweetness. But at that
+time she had no knowledge of what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>"See!" he exclaimed softly, pointly westward, "there is what Coleridge
+made dear to us for ever, and Byron vainly scoffed at&mdash;the 'green light
+that lingers in the west.'"</p>
+
+<p>He repeated the stanza absently, and half to himself, with a sudden
+oblivion of her presence&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i1">"It were a vain endeavor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though I should gaze for ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On that green light that lingers in the west.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I may not hope from outward forms to win<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The passion and the life whose fountains are within."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She watched him as his voice sank lower and lower, and though his eyes
+were dry and bright, she saw a look of intense sadness sweep across his
+face. Almost she felt inclined to let her natural sympathy escape
+her&mdash;to let loose the kind and tender words which had leapt up from her
+heart, and even trembled upon her lips. But a rush of consciousness
+came, and she choked them back. Thus much she could do, but no more. She
+could not at that moment look upon him as the man already suspected in
+many quarters of a most brutal murder. For the instant, all was blotted
+out. Had she tried she could not at that moment have revived her own
+suspicions. They seemed to her like some grotesque fungi of the
+mind&mdash;poisonous weeds to be crushed and destroyed. But the seed was
+there.</p>
+
+<p>"Those are the saddest lines I ever read," she said quietly. "It is a
+true ode to dejection."</p>
+
+<p>"And therefore they are very precious," he answered. "It is always sweet
+to find your own emotions so exquisitely expressed. It is like a
+spiritual narcotic."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet&mdash;yet such poems encourage sadness, and that is morbid."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"To be sad is not necessarily to be unhappy," he answered. "That sounds
+like a paradox, but it isn't! You remember the 'gentle melancholy' which
+Milton loved. There is something sweet in that, is there not?"</p>
+
+<p>"But it is not like that with you," she said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>He threw his arms up into the air with a sudden wild gesture of absolute
+despair. She had touched a chord in his nature too roughly, and it had
+not stood the strain. For a moment he had thrown off his mask. His white
+face was ghastly, and his eyes were burning with a hopeless passion.</p>
+
+<p>"My God! No!" he cried. "I am in the depths of hell, with never a gleam
+of hope to lead me on. And the sin&mdash;the sin&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped suddenly, and his hands fell to his side. Slowly he turned
+round and looked at her, half doubtfully, half fearfully. What had he
+said? What had she heard? What did that look in her face mean&mdash;that look
+of anguish, of fear, of horror? Why did she not speak, even though it
+were to accuse him? Anything rather than that awful silence.</p>
+
+<p>Twice she moved her white lips, but no sound came. The power of
+articulation seemed gone. Then she caught him by the arm, and turned him
+slowly round so that he faced his cottage. Only a few yards below them
+was the spot where she and her sister-in-law that was to have been had
+lolled in their low chairs by the luncheon-table, and had begun to feel
+impatient for the coming of one who had never come. Further away still,
+across the moor, was that dark circular patch of plantation behind which
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston had been found, and away upon the cliffs
+overlooking the scene of the murder was Falcon's Nest.</p>
+
+<p>The grasp on his arm tightened. Then she stretched out her other hand,
+and with shaking fingers pointed downwards&mdash;pointed to the very spot
+where the deed had been done. The memory of it all came back to her, and
+hardened her set white face. She looked him straight in the eyes without
+a quiver, and clenched her teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you&mdash;do that?" she asked in a firm, hard tone.</p>
+
+<p>A curious mind slumber seemed to have crept over him. His eyes followed
+her outstretched hand, and his lips idly repeated her words.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"</p>
+
+<p>Her words fell sharp and clear upon the still air. A tremor passed
+through his whole frame, and the light of a sudden understanding flashed
+across his face. He was his old self again, and more than his old self.</p>
+
+<p>"You are joking, of course, Miss Thurwell?" he said quietly. "You do not
+mean that seriously?"</p>
+
+<p>She caught her breath, and looked at him. After all, it is only a step
+from tragedy to commonplace. He was deathly pale, but calm and composed.
+He had conquered himself just in time. Another moment, and she felt
+assured that she would have known all. Never mind! it should come, she
+told herself. The end was not yet.</p>
+
+<p>"No; of course I did not mean it seriously," she repeated slowly. "Who
+are those men coming up the hill? Can you see?"</p>
+
+<p>He moved a little nearer to her, and looked downward. On the slope of
+the hill were three men. She had recognized them already, and she
+watched him steadily.</p>
+
+<p>"Your father is one," he said quietly. "The other two are strangers to
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I can tell you something about them," she said, still watching
+him intently. "One is the constable from Mallory, and the other is a
+detective."</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight hardening of his face, and she fancied that she saw
+his under lip quiver for a moment. Had he shown any guilty fear, had he
+shrunk back, or uttered a single moan, her sympathy would never have
+been aroused. But as it was, she was a woman, and her face softened,
+and the tears stood in her eyes. There was something almost grand
+in the composure with which he was waiting for what seemed
+inevitable&mdash;something of the magnificent resignation with which the
+noblemen of France one by one took their place at the block, and the
+simile was heightened by the slightly contemptuous, slightly defiant
+poise of his finely shaped head. She saw him cast one lingering glance
+around at the still sea, with its far-off motionless sails; at the clear
+sky, from which the brilliancy of coloring was fading away, and at the
+long sweep of moorland with its brilliant patches of heather and gorse,
+now slightly blurred by the mists rising from the earth. It was as
+though he were saying a last farewell to things which he had loved, and
+which he would see no more&mdash;and it had a strange effect upon her. The
+memory of that hideous crime left her. She could think only of the
+abstract pathos of the present situation, and she felt very miserable.
+It was wrong, unnatural of her; but at that moment, if she could have
+helped him to escape, she would have done her best in the face of them
+all.</p>
+
+<p>They were almost at hand now, and she lifted her eyes, in which the
+tears were fast gathering. She thought nothing of her own situation&mdash;of
+their finding her alone with the murderer. With characteristic
+unselfishness she thought only of him.</p>
+
+<p>She met her father's surprised gaze with indifference. She had a sort of
+feeling that nothing mattered much. What was going to happen eclipsed
+everything else.</p>
+
+<p>And so it did. Her apathy changed in a moment to amazement, and her
+heart stood still. Her father had raised his hat to Mr. Brown with even
+more than the usual courtesy of his salute, and the two officials had
+saluted in the most correct fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown," he said, "we have all come in search of you to tender our
+most sincere apologies for an unfortunate mistake. Police Constable
+Chopping here is mostly to blame, and next to him, I am."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at the man by her side. His face was absolutely
+impenetrable. It showed no signs of the relief which was creeping into
+hers. His composure was simply wonderful.</p>
+
+<p>"The fact is," her father continued, "Chopping came to see me with a
+long tale and a certain request which, under the circumstances&mdash;which I
+will explain to you afterwards&mdash;I could not as a magistrate refuse. I
+was compelled to sign a search warrant for him to go over Falcon's Nest.
+It was against my inclination, and a most unpleasant duty for me to
+perform. But I considered it my duty, and I attended there myself in
+order that it might not be abused. I hope to have your forgiveness for
+the liberty which we were compelled to take."</p>
+
+<p>There was still no change in Mr. Brown's face, but, standing close to
+him, she heard him take a quick deep breath. Curiously enough, it was a
+relief to her to hear it. Such great self-restraint was almost
+unnatural.</p>
+
+<p>"You only did your duty, Mr. Thurwell," he answered quietly. "You owe me
+no apology."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very glad that you see it in that light," Mr. Thurwell said, "very
+glad indeed. But I have a further confession to make."</p>
+
+<p>He drew Mr. Brown a little on one side, out of hearing of the others,
+but nearer to her than any of them, and commenced talking earnestly to
+him. This time she could tell that he was disturbed and uneasy, but she
+could not follow connectedly all her father said. Only a few stray words
+reached her.</p>
+
+<p>"Very sorry indeed.... Quite accidental.... Will preserve ...
+discovery."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I may rely upon you to keep this absolutely to yourself?" she
+heard Mr. Brown say earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you my word, sir!" her father answered. Then they turned round,
+and she saw that Mr. Brown looked distinctly annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"However did you come here, Helen?" her father asked, suddenly
+remembering her presence.</p>
+
+<p>"I came for a walk, and met Mr. Brown in the plantation," she explained.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, since you are here," he remarked good humoredly, "you must help
+me to induce Mr. Brown to come back to the Court. So far, we have been
+wretched neighbors. We shall insist upon his dining with us, just to
+show that there's no ill-feeling," he added, smiling. "Now, no excuses."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, but I never go out," Mr. Brown answered. "I have not even
+any clothes here. So&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Please come, Mr. Brown," she said softly.</p>
+
+<p>He flashed a sudden glance at her from his dark eyes, which brought the
+color streaming into her cheeks. Fortunately, twilight was commencing to
+fall, and she was standing a little back in the shadow of the
+plantation.</p>
+
+<p>"If Miss Thurwell wishes it," he said, in a tone of a man who offers
+himself to lead a forlorn hope, "it is settled. I will come."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. BROWN DINES AT THE COURT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Both to him and to her there was something strangely unreal in the
+little banquet to which they three&mdash;Mr. Thurwell, his daughter, and his
+tenant&mdash;sat down that evening. For many months afterwards, until,
+indeed, after the culmination of the tragedy in which she was the
+principal moving figure, Helen Thurwell looked back upon that night with
+strangely mingled feelings. It was the dawn of a new era in her
+existence, a fact which she never doubted, although she struggled vainly
+against it. And to him it was like a sudden transition into fairyland.
+The long years of lonely life and rigorous asceticism through which he
+had passed had been a period of no ordinary self-denial. Instinctively
+and with his whole nature the man was an artist. His homely fare,
+ill-cooked and ill-served among dreary surroundings, had for long been a
+horror to him. Whatever his reasons for such absolute isolation had
+been, they had sprung from no actual delight in rough living or
+non-appreciation of the refinements of civilized society. He realized to
+the full extent the sybaritic pleasures which now surrounded him. The
+white tablecloth flaming with daintily modeled plate and cut glass, the
+brilliant coloring of the scarlet and yellow flowers, the aromatic
+perfume of the chrysanthemums mingling with the faint scent of exotics,
+the luscious fruits, and the softly shaded table lights which threw a
+rich glow over the lovely face opposite to him&mdash;all these things had
+their own peculiar effect in the shape of a certain subtle exhilaration
+which was not slow to show itself. With scarcely an effort he threw off
+the old mask of reserve, with all the little awkwardnesses and
+gaucheries which it had entailed, and appeared as the shadow of the self
+of former days&mdash;a cultured, polished man of the world. Even Mr.
+Thurwell's good breeding was scarcely sufficient to conceal his surprise
+at the metamorphosis. Never before, at his table, had there been such a
+brilliant flow of conversation&mdash;conversation which had all the rare art
+of appearing general, whereas it was indeed nothing less than a
+monologue on the part of this strange guest. He had traveled far, he had
+seen great things in many countries, and he had known great men; and he
+talked lightly about them all, with the keen appreciation of the artist,
+and the graceful diction of the scholar. He was a man who had lived in
+the world&mdash;every little action and turn of speech denoted it. The French
+dishes&mdash;Mr. Thurwell was proud of his chef&mdash;were no secret to him, and
+he knew all about the vintages of the wines he was drinking. In the
+whole course of his experience, Mr. Thurwell had never entertained such
+a guest as this, and it was a sore trial to his good manners to abstain
+from any astonished comment on the lonely life his tenant had been
+lately leading.</p>
+
+<p>And Helen sat listening to it all with a sort of dreamy content stealing
+over her, out of which she was stirred every now and then into
+enthusiasm by some brilliant criticism or fresh turn to the
+conversation. At such times her gray luminous eyes, with their strange
+dash of foreign color, would light up and flash their sympathetic
+approval across the few feet of tablecloth blazing with many-colored
+flowers and fruits and glittering silver. And he grew to look for this,
+and to receive it with an answering glance from his own dark eyes, full
+of a strange light and power. She, watching him more keenly than her
+father could, was conscious of something that altogether escaped him, a
+sort of undercurrent of suppressed excitement which never rose to the
+surface, and revealed itself in none of his mannerisms or his tone. But
+it was there, and she felt it&mdash;felt it more than ever when their eyes
+met, and hers were forced to droop before the steady fire in his, which
+more than once brought the faint color into her cheeks, and sent a new
+sensation quivering through her being.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner came to an end at last, but when she rose to go her father
+protested. She generally sat with him while he smoked a cigarette and
+drank his coffee. Why should she go away now? They were making no
+stranger of Mr. Brown. And so she stayed.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she found herself strolling round the room by his side,
+showing him the pictures which hung lightly upon the high oak panels,
+and the foreign bric-&agrave;-brac and Italian vases ranged along the wide
+black ledge a little below. Her father had been obliged to go out and
+speak to the head gamekeeper about some suspected poaching, and they
+were alone.</p>
+
+<p>"This is where I like to sit after dinner, when we are alone," she said;
+and, lifting some heavy drooping curtains, she led him into a quaint
+recess, almost as large as an ordinary room. A shaded lamp was burning
+on a small Burmese table, and the faint fragrance of burning pine logs
+stole up from the open hearth and floated about on the air, already
+slightly perfumed with the odor of chrysanthemums clustered together in
+quaint blue china bowls, little patches of gold-and-white coloring,
+where everything else was somber and subdued. She sank into a low basket
+chair before the fire, and, obeying her gesture, he seated himself
+opposite to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, talk to me, please," she said, half hiding her face with a feather
+screen to protect it from the fire. "No commonplacisms, mind! I have
+heard nothing else all my life, and I am weary of them. And, first,
+please to light a cigarette. You will find some in the silver box by
+your side. I like the perfume."</p>
+
+<p>He did as he was bidden in silence. For a moment he watched the faint
+blue smoke curl upward, stole a glance around him, and drew a long
+breath as though he were drinking in to the full the artistic content of
+the exquisite harmony and coloring, of his surroundings. Then he threw a
+sudden, swift look upon the beautiful girl who was leaning back in her
+low chair, with her fair head resting upon a cushion of deep olive
+green, and her eyes fixed expectantly upon him. She was so near that, by
+stretching out his hand, he could have seized her small shapely fingers;
+so near, that he could even detect the delicate scent of lavender from
+the lace of her black dinner gown. He took in every detail of her dainty
+toilette from the single diamond which sparkled in the black velvet
+around her throat, to the exquisitely slippered feet resting lightly
+upon a tiny sage-green footstool, and just visible through the
+gossamerlike draperies which bordered her skirts. In the world of her
+sex she had become an era to him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TRAGEDY OF RACHEL KYNASTON.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I wonder whether you know that we have met before, Miss Thurwell?" he
+asked her suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>She moved her screen and looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely not! Where?"</p>
+
+<p>In a few words he reminded her of that quaint street in the old Italian
+town, and of the half-ruined Palazzo di Vechi. He had seen her only for
+a few minutes, but her face had never been forgotten; the way in which
+he told her so, although he did not dwell upon it, told her also that it
+had been no ordinary memory&mdash;that it had held a separate place in his
+thoughts, as was indeed the case. Something in the manner of his
+allusion to it showed her too, as though he had laid his whole mind
+bare, with what interest, almost reverence, he had guarded it, and all
+that it had meant to him; and as she listened a faint color stole into
+her cheeks, with which the fire had nothing to do. She held her screen
+the closer, and bent her head lest he should see it.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no fear of that; indeed, he had no thought of the kind.
+Leaving the dangerous ground behind him, he glided easily and naturally
+into impersonal subjects. From Italy he began to talk of Florence, of
+Pico della Mirandola, and the painters of the Renaissance. He strove his
+utmost to interest her, and with his vast stock of acquired knowledge,
+and his wonderfully artistic felicity of expression, he talked on and
+on, wandering from country to country, and age to age, till it all
+seemed to her like a strangely beautiful poem, full of yellow light and
+gleaming shadow, sometimes passionate and intense, at others fantastic
+and almost ethereal. Now and then she half closed her eyes, and his
+words, and their meaning, the form and the substance, seemed to come to
+her like richly blended music, stirring all her senses and quickening
+all her dormant faculties. Then she opened them again, and looked
+steadily upon the dark, wan face, with its sharp thin outline and
+strange poetic abstraction. By chance he spoke for a moment of De
+Quincey, and a shudder passed through all her being. Could such a face
+as that be a murderer's face? The utter morbidness of such a thought
+oppressed her only for a moment. If to-morrow it was to be her duty to
+loathe this man, then it should be so; but those few minutes were too
+precious to be disturbed by such thoughts. A new life was stirring
+within her, and its first breath was too sweet to be crushed on the
+threshold. After to-night&mdash;anything! But to-night she would have for her
+own.</p>
+
+<p>And so the time passed on, and the evening slipped away. Mr. Thurwell
+had looked in, but seeing them so engrossed he had quietly retreated and
+indulged in his usual nap. A dainty tea equipage had been brought in,
+and she had roused herself to prepare it with her own hands, and it
+seemed to him that this little touch of domesticity had been the one
+thing wanted to make the picture perfect. There had been a momentary
+silence then, and she had found herself asking him questions.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you never feel that you would like to be back in the world again?"
+she asked. "Yours is a very lonely life!"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not often find it so," he answered, with his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. "One's books, and the thoughts one gets from them, are sufficient
+companions."</p>
+
+<p>"But they are not human ones, and man is human. Do you think a lonely
+life quite healthy&mdash;mentally healthy, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"It should be the healthiest of all lives. It is only in theory that
+solitude is morbid. If you knew more of the world, Miss Thurwell, you
+would understand something of its cramping influence upon all
+independent thought. I am not a pessimist&mdash;at least, I try not to be. I
+do not wish to say that there is more badness than goodness in the
+world, but there is certainly more littleness than greatness. To live in
+any manner of society without imbibing a certain form of selfishness is
+difficult; to do so and to taste the full sweetness of the life that
+never dies is impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"But there must be some exceptions!" she said hesitatingly. "If people
+care for one another, and care for the same things&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"People never do care for one another. Life is so full nowadays, there
+are so many things to care about, that any concentration of the
+affections is impossible. Love is the derision of the modern world. It
+has not even the respect one pays to the antique."</p>
+
+<p>For several minutes there was deep silence. A piece of burning wood
+tumbled off from the log and fell upon the tiles, where it lay with its
+delicate blue smoke curling upward into the room, laden with the pungent
+odor of the pine. She moved her feet, and there was the slight rustling
+of her skirts. No other sound broke the stillness which they both
+remembered for long afterwards&mdash;the stillness before the storm.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly it came to an end. There was a sound of doors being quickly
+opened and shut, voices in the hall, and then a light, firm tread,
+crossing the main portion of the room. They both glanced toward the
+curtains, and there was a second's expectancy. Then they were thrown on
+one side with a hasty movement, and a tall dark woman in a long
+traveling cloak swept through them.</p>
+
+<p>She paused for a moment on the threshold, and her flashing black eyes
+seemed to take in every detail of the little scene. She saw Helen, fair
+and comely, with an added beauty in her soft, animated expression, and
+she saw her companion, his face alight with intelligence and
+sensibility, and with the glow of a new life in his brilliant eyes. The
+perfume of the Egyptian tobacco which hung about the room, the tea tray,
+their two chairs drawn up before the fire&mdash;nothing escaped her. It all
+seemed to increase her wrath.</p>
+
+<p>For she was very angry. Her form was dilated with passion, and her
+voice, when she spoke, shook with it. But it was not her anger, nor her
+threatening gestures, before which they both shrank back for a moment,
+appalled. It was her awful likeness to the murdered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen!" she cried, "they told me of this; but if I had not seen it with
+my own eyes, I would never have believed it."</p>
+
+<p>Helen rose to her feet, pale, but with a kindling light in her eyes, and
+a haughty poise of her fair shapely head.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak in riddles, Rachel," she said quietly. "I do not understand
+you."</p>
+
+<p>A very storm of hysterical passion seemed to shake the woman, who had
+approached a little further into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Not understand me! Listen, and I will make it plain. You were engaged
+to marry my brother. I come here, almost from his funeral, and I find
+you thus&mdash;with his murderer! Girl, I wonder that you do not die of
+shame!"</p>
+
+<p>His murderer! For a moment the color fled from cheeks and lips, and the
+room seemed whirling around her. But one glance at him brought back her
+drooping courage. He was standing close to her side, erect and firm as a
+statue, with his head thrown back, and his eyes fixed upon Rachel
+Kynaston. Blanched and colorless as his face was, there was no flinching
+in it.</p>
+
+<p>"It is false!" she said proudly. "Ask him yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Ask him!" She turned upon him like a tigress, her eyes blazing with
+fury. "Let him hear what I have to say, and deny it. Is it not you who
+followed him from city to city all over the world, seeking always his
+life? Is it not you who kept him for many years from his native land for
+fear of blood-shed&mdash;yours or his? Is it not you who have fought with him
+and been worsted, and sworn to carry your enmity with you through life,
+and bury it only in his grave? Look at me, man, if you dare, look me in
+the face and tell me whether you did not seek his life in Vienna, and
+whether you did not fight with him on the sands at Boulogne. Oh, I know
+you! It is you! It is you! And then you come down here and live alone,
+waiting your chance. He is found foully murdered, and you are the only
+man who could have done it. Ask you whether you be guilty? There is no
+need, no need. Can anyone in their senses, knowing the story of your
+past hate, doubt it for one moment? And yet, answer me if you can. Look
+me in the face, and let me hear you lie, if you dare. Tell me that you
+know nothing of my brother's death!"</p>
+
+<p>He had stood like marble, with never a change in his face, while she had
+poured out her passionate accusation. But when silence came, and she
+waited for him to speak, he could not. A seal seemed set upon his lips.
+He could not open them. He was silent.</p>
+
+<p>A fearful glare of triumph blazed up in her eyes. She staggered back a
+little, and leaned upon the table, with her hand clasped to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"See, Helen," she cried, "is that innocence? O God! give me strength to
+go on. I will see Mr. Thurwell. I will tell him everything. He shall
+sign a warrant. Ah!"</p>
+
+<p>A terrible scream rang through the room, and echoed through the house.
+Mr. Thurwell and several of the servants came hurrying in. In the middle
+of the floor Rachel Kynaston lay prostrate, her fingers grasping
+convulsively at the empty air, and an awful look in her face. Helen was
+on her knees by her side, and Mr. Brown stood in the background,
+irresolute whether to stay or leave.</p>
+
+<p>They crowded round her, but she waved them off, and grasping Helen's
+wrist, dragged her down till their heads nearly touched.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen," she moaned, "I am dying. Swear to me that you will avenge
+Geoffrey's murder. That man did it. His name&mdash;his name&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly her grasp relaxed, and Helen reeled back fainting into her
+father's arms.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a fit," some one murmured.</p>
+
+<p>But it was death.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>LEVY &amp; SON, PRIVATE AGENTS</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Anything in the letters, guv'nor?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing so far, Ben, my boy," answered a little old gentleman, who was
+methodically opening a pile of envelopes, and carefully scrutinizing the
+contents of each before arranging them in separate heaps. "Nothing much
+yet. A letter from a despairing mother, entreating us to find her lost
+son. Description given, payment&mdash;tick! Won't do. Here's a note from Mr.
+Wallis about his wife's being at the theater the other night, and a line
+from Jack Simpson about that woman down St. John's Wood way. Seems he's
+found her, so that's off."</p>
+
+<p>"Humph! business is slack," remarked a younger edition of the old
+gentleman, who was standing on the hearth rug, with his silk hat on the
+back of his head, in an attitude of unstudied grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, guv'nor, you couldn't let me have a fiver, could you? Must keep up
+the credit of the firm, don't you know, and I'm awfully hard up. 'Pon my
+word, I am."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't do anything of the sort!" exclaimed the old gentleman
+testily. "Certainly not. The way you spend money is grievous to me,
+Benjamin, positively grievous!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned round in his chair, and with his spectacles on the top of his
+head surveyed his son and heir with a sorrowful interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hang it all, some one must spend the money if we're to keep the
+business at all!" retorted Mr. Benjamin testily. "I can't live as I do
+without it, you know; and how are we to get the information we want?
+Look at the company I keep, too."</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman seemed mollified.</p>
+
+<p>"There's something in that, Ben," he remarked, slowly wagging his head.
+"There's something in that, of course. Bless me, your mother was telling
+me you was with a lord the other day!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin expanded a little with the recollection, and smiled gently.</p>
+
+<p>"That was quite true, dad," he remarked with a grandiloquent air. "I was
+just going into the Cri&mdash;let me see, on Tuesday night it was&mdash;when whom
+should I run up against but little Tommy Soampton with a pal, and we all
+had drinks together. He was a quiet-looking chap, not dressed half so
+well as&mdash;er&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"As you, Ben," interposed his father proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wasn't thinking of myself particularly," Mr. Benjamin
+continued, twirling an incipient mustache, and looking pleased. "But
+when Tommy introduced him as Lord Mossford, I was that surprised I
+nearly dropped my glass."</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say to him, Ben?" asked the little old gentleman in an
+awed tone.</p>
+
+<p>Ben drew himself up and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I asked him how his lordship was, and whether his lordship'd take
+anything."</p>
+
+<p>"And did he, Ben?" asked his father eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather! He was just as affable as you like. I got on with him no end."</p>
+
+<p>The little old gentleman turned away to his letters again to hide a
+gratified smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, Ben, I suppose you must have it," he said leniently. "Young
+men will be young men. Only remember this, my boy&mdash;wherever you are,
+always keep an eye open for business. Never forget that."</p>
+
+<p>Benjamin, junior, slapped his trousers pocket and grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"No fear, dad. I don't forget the biz."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well; just wait till I've gone through the letters, and we'll see
+what we can do. We'll see. Ha! this reads well. I like this. Ben, we're
+in luck this morning. In luck, my boy!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin abandoned his negligent attitude, and, drawing close to his
+father, peered over his shoulder. The letter which lay upon the desk was
+not a long one, but it was to the point.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Thurwell Court</span>,<br />
+"<i>Thursday</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Sirs</span>,</p>
+
+<p>"I am recommended to consult your firm on a matter which requires
+the services of a skilled detective and the utmost secrecy. I am
+coming to London to-morrow, and will call at your office at about
+half-past ten. Please arrange to be in at that time.</p>
+
+<p>"Yours truly,<br />
+"<span class="smcap">Helen Thurwell.</span></p>
+
+<p>"To Messrs. Levy &amp; Son,<br />
+"Private Agents,<br />
+&mdash;&mdash; Street, Strand, London."</p></div>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy, senior, drew his hand meditatively down the lower part of his
+face once or twice, and looked up at his son.</p>
+
+<p>"Something in it, I think, Benjamin, eh? Thurwell Court! Coat of Arms!
+Lady signs herself Miss Thurwell! Money there, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin was looking thoughtfully down at the signature.</p>
+
+<p>"Thurwell, Thurwell! Where the mischief have I heard that name lately.
+Holy Moses! I know," he suddenly exclaimed, starting up with glistening
+eyes. "Dad, our fortune's made. Our chance has come at last!"</p>
+
+<p>In the exuberance of his spirits he forgot the infirmities of age, and
+brought his hand down upon his father's back with such vehemence that
+the tears started into the little old gentleman's eyes, and his
+spectacles rattled upon his nose.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't do that again, Benjamin," he exclaimed nervously. "I don't like
+it; I don't like it at all. You nearly dislocated my shoulder, and if
+you had, I'd have stopped the doctor's bill out of your allowance. I
+would, indeed! And now, what have you got to say?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin had been walking up and down the office with his hands in
+his trousers' pockets whistling softly to himself. At the conclusion of
+his father's complaint he came to a standstill.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, guv'nor. Sorry I hurt you. I was a bit excited. Don't you
+remember having heard that name Thurwell lately?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy, senior, shook his head doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be, Benjamin. The name
+sounds a bit familiar, and yet&mdash;no, I can't remember," he wound up
+suddenly. "Tell me about it, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the Kynaston murder, of course. That was at Thurwell Court. Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston was engaged to Miss Thurwell, you know, and she was
+one of the first to find him."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me! Dear me! I remember all about it now, to be sure," Mr. Levy
+exclaimed. "The murderer was never found, was he? Got clean off?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," assented Mr. Benjamin. "Dad, it's a rum thing, but I was
+interested in that case. There was something queer about it. I read it
+every bit. I could stand a cross-examination in it now. Dad, it's a
+lucky thing. She's coming here to consult us about it, as sure as my
+name is Ben Levy. And, by jabers, here she is!"</p>
+
+<p>There was the sound of a cab stopping at the door, and through a chink
+in the blinds Mr. Benjamin had seen a lady descend from it. In a moment
+his hat was off and on the peg, and he commenced writing a letter at the
+desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad," he said quickly, without looking up, "leave this matter to me,
+will you? I'm up in the case. A lady, did you say, Morrison?"&mdash;turning
+toward the door. "Very good. Show her in at once."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>A JEWEL OF A SON</h3>
+
+
+<p>For the first time in her life Helen was taking a definite and important
+step without her father's knowledge. The matter was one which had caused
+her infinite thought and many heart searchings. The burden of Rachel
+Kynaston's dying words had fallen upon her alone. There seemed to be no
+escape from it. She must act, and must act for herself. Any sort of
+appeal to her father for help was out of the question. She knew
+beforehand exactly what his view of the matter would be. In all things
+concerning her sex he was of that ancient school which reckoned
+helplessness and inaction the chief and necessary qualities of women
+outside the domestic circle. He might himself have made some move in the
+matter, but it would have been half hearted and under protest. She knew
+exactly what his point of view would be. Rachel Kynaston had been
+excited by a fancied wrong&mdash;her last words were uttered in a veritable
+delirium! She could not part with the responsibility. The shadow of it
+lay upon her, and her alone. She must act herself or not at all. She
+must act herself, and without her father's knowledge, or be false to the
+charge laid upon her by a dying woman. So with a heavy heart she had
+accepted what seemed to her to be the inevitable.</p>
+
+<p>She was shown at once into the inner sanctuary of Messrs. Levy &amp; Son.
+Her first glance around, nervous though she was, was comprehensive. She
+saw a plainly but not ill-furnished office, the chief feature of which
+was its gloom. Seated in an easy chair was a little old gentleman with
+white hair, who rose to receive her, and a little farther away was a
+younger man who was writing busily, and who did not even glance up at
+her entrance. Although it was not a particularly dark morning, the
+narrowness of the street and the small dusty windows seemed effectually
+to keep out the light, and a jet of gas was burning.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy bowed to his visitor, and offered her a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell, I presume," he said in his best manner.</p>
+
+<p>The lady bowed without lifting her veil, which, though short, was a
+thick one.</p>
+
+<p>"We received a letter from you this morning," he continued.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I have called about it."</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated. The commencement was very difficult. After all, had she
+done wisely in coming here? Was it not all a mistake? Had she not better
+leave the thing to the proper authorities, and content herself with
+offering a reward? She had half a mind to declare that her visit was an
+error, and make her escape.</p>
+
+<p>It was at this point that the tact of the junior member of the firm
+asserted itself. Quietly laying down his pen, he turned toward her, and
+spoke for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>"We gathered from your letter, Miss Thurwell, that you desired to
+consult us concerning the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."</p>
+
+<p>Helen was surprised into assenting, and before she could qualify her
+words, Mr. Benjamin had taken the case in hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. Now, Miss Thurwell, we have had some very delicate and very
+difficult business confided to us at different times, and I may say,
+without boasting, that we have been remarkably successful. I may so,
+father, may I not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most decidedly, Benjamin. There was Mr. Morris's jewels, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"And Mr. Hadson's son."</p>
+
+<p>"And that little affair with Captain Trescott and Bella B&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin dropped the ruler, which he had been idly balancing on his
+forefinger, with a crash, and shot a warning glance across at his
+father.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell will not be interested in the details of our business,"
+he remarked. "Our reputation is doubtless known to her."</p>
+
+<p>Considering what the reputation of Messrs. Levy &amp; Son really was, this
+last remark was a magnificent piece of cool impudence. Even Mr. Levy
+could not refrain from casting a quick glance of admiration at his
+junior, who remained perfectly unmoved.</p>
+
+<p>"What I was about to remark, Miss Thurwell, was simply this. The chief
+cause of our success has been that we have induced our clients at the
+outset to give us their whole confidence. We lay great stress on this.
+Everything that we are told in the way of business we consider
+absolutely secret. But we like to know everything."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall keep nothing back from you," she said quietly. "I have nothing
+to conceal."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin nodded approval.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, in order that the confidence between us may be complete, let me
+ask you this question, Why have you brought this matter to us, instead
+of leaving it to the ordinary authorities?"</p>
+
+<p>Helen Thurwell lifted her veil for the first time, and looked at the
+young man who was questioning her. Mr. Benjamin Levy, as a young man of
+fashion, was an ape and a fool. Mr. Benjamin Levy, taking the lead in a
+piece of business after his own heart, was as shrewd a young man as you
+could meet with. Looking him steadily in the face, and noticing his keen
+dark eyes and closely drawn lips, she began for the first time to think
+that, after all, she might have done a wise thing in coming here.</p>
+
+<p>"The ordinary authorities have had the matter in hand two months, and
+they have done nothing," she answered. "I am very anxious that it should
+be cleared up, and I am naturally beginning to lose faith in them. They
+have so many other things to attend to. Now, if I paid you well, I
+suppose you would give your whole time to the matter."</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly," assented Mr. Levy, senior, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly," echoed his son. "I am quite satisfied, Miss Thurwell, and
+I thank you for your candor."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you will want me to tell you all about it," she said, with a
+faint shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"Not unless you know something fresh. I have every particular in my head
+that has been published."</p>
+
+<p>Helen looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"You read all about it, I suppose?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; such things interest us, naturally. This one did me particularly,
+because, from the first, I saw that the police were on the wrong tack."</p>
+
+<p>"What is your idea about it, then?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Simply this," he answered, turning round and facing her for the first
+time. "All the time and trouble spent in scouring the country and
+watching the ports and railway stations was completely wasted. The
+murder was not committed by an outsider at all. The first thing I shall
+want, when we begin to work this, is the name and address of all the
+people living within a mile or two of the scene of the murder, and then
+every possible particular concerning Mr. Bernard Brown, of Falcon's
+Nest."</p>
+
+<p>She could not help a slight start. And from his looking at her now for
+the first time so fixedly, and from the abrupt manner in which he had
+brought out the latter part of his sentence, she knew that he was trying
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one more question, too, Miss Thurwell, which I must ask you,
+and it is a very important one," he continued, still looking at her. "Do
+you suspect any one?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered him without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"I do."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy, senior, stirred in his chair, and leaned forward eagerly. Mr.
+Benjamin remained perfectly unmoved.</p>
+
+<p>"And who is it?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin looked away and made a note. If she could have seen it,
+Helen would certainly have been surprised. For, though her voice was
+low, she had schooled herself to go through her task without agitation.
+Yet, here was the note.</p>
+
+<p>"Query: Connection between Mr. Brown and Miss T. Showed great agitation
+in announcing suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mind telling us your reasons?" he went on.</p>
+
+<p>She repeated them after the manner of one who has learned a lesson.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown came to our part of the country just at the time that Sir
+Geoffrey came from abroad. They had met before, and there was some cause
+of enmity between them&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Stop! How do you know that?" Mr. Benjamin interrupted quickly.</p>
+
+<p>She told him of Mr. Brown's admission to her, and of the tragedy of
+Rachel Kynaston's last words. He seemed to know something of this too.</p>
+
+<p>"Any other reason?"</p>
+
+<p>"He seemed agitated when he came out from the cottage, after the crime
+was discovered. From its situation he could easily have committed the
+murder and regained it unseen. It would have been infinitely easier for
+him to have done it than anyone else."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin looked at his father, and his father looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me anything at all of his antecedents?" he continued.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"We knew nothing about him when he came. He never talked about himself."</p>
+
+<p>"But he was your father's tenant, was he not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then he gave you some references, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only his bankers and his lawyers."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember those?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. The bankers were Gregsons, and the lawyer's name was Cuthbert."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin made a note of both.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing more which it occurs to you to tell us, Miss
+Thurwell?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one circumstance which seemed to me at the time suspicious,"
+she said slowly. "It was after the body had been carried to Mr. Brown's
+house, and I was waiting for my father there. I think I must have
+suspected Mr. Brown then, in a lesser degree, for I took the opportunity
+of being alone to look into his sitting room. It was rather a mean thing
+to do," she added hurriedly, "but I was a little excited at the notion
+of his guilt, and I felt that I would do anything to help to bring the
+truth to light."</p>
+
+<p>"It was very natural," interposed Mr. Levy, senior, who had been
+watching for some time for the opportunity of getting a word in. "Very
+natural, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>His son took no notice of the interruption, and Helen continued.</p>
+
+<p>"What I saw may be of no consequence, but I will just tell you what it
+was, and what it suggested to me. The window was open, and the leaves of
+a laurel shrub just outside were dripping with wet. A little way in the
+room was an empty basin, and on the floor by the side was a pile of
+books. They might have been there by accident, but it seemed to me as if
+they had been purposely placed there to hide something&mdash;possibly a stain
+on the floor. Before I could move any of them to see, I was disturbed."</p>
+
+<p>"By Mr. Brown?"</p>
+
+<p>"By Mr. Brown and Sir Allan Beaumerville."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you gather from his appearance that he was alarmed at finding you
+there?"</p>
+
+<p>Helen shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No. He was surprised, certainly, but that was natural. I cannot say
+that he looked alarmed."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin put away his notes and turned round on his stool.</p>
+
+<p>"A word or two with regard to the business part of this matter, Miss
+Thurwell. Are you prepared to spend a good deal of money?"</p>
+
+<p>"If it is necessary, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. Then I will give you a sketch of my plans. We have agents in
+Paris, Vienna, Venice, and other towns, whom I shall at once employ in
+tracing out Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's life abroad, concerning which I
+already have some useful information. During the rest of the day I shall
+make inquiries about Mr. Brown in London. To-morrow I shall be prepared
+to come down to Thurwell in any capacity you suggest."</p>
+
+<p>"If you know anything of auditing," she said, "you can come down and go
+through the books of the estate at the Court. I can arrange that."</p>
+
+<p>"It will do admirably. These are my plans, then. We shall require from
+you, Miss Thurwell, two hundred guineas to send abroad, and forty
+guineas a week for the services of my father and myself and our staff.
+If in twelve months we have not succeeded, we will engage to return you
+twenty-five per cent of this amount. If, on the other hand, we have
+brought home the crime to the murderer, we shall ask you for a further
+five hundred. Will you agree to these terms?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin stretched out his hand for a piece of writing paper, and
+made a memorandum.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you would be so good as to sign this, then?" he said, passing
+it to her.</p>
+
+<p>She took the pen, and wrote her name at the bottom. Then she rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"There is nothing more?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing except your London address," he reminded her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am staying with my aunt, Lady Thurwell, at No. 8, Cadogan Square."</p>
+
+<p>"Can I call and see you to-morrow morning there?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated. After all, why not. She had put her hand to the plow, and
+she must go on with it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered; "as the auditor who is going to Thurwell Court."</p>
+
+<p>He bowed, and held the door open for her.</p>
+
+<p>"That is understood, of course. Good morning, Miss Thurwell."</p>
+
+<p>She was standing quite still on the threshold, as if lost in thought for
+a moment. Suddenly she looked up at him with a bright spot of color
+glowing in her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Levy."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"You have read the account of this&mdash;terrible thing, and you have heard
+all I can tell you. Doubtless you have formed some idea concerning it.
+Would you mind telling it to me?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin kept his keen black eyes fixed steadily upon her while he
+answered the question, as though he were curious to see what effect it
+would have on her.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Miss Thurwell. I think that the gentleman calling himself
+Mr. Brown will find himself in the murderer's dock before a month is
+out."</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered slightly, and turned away.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. Good morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Miss Thurwell."</p>
+
+<p>She was gone, and as the sound of her departing cab became lost in the
+din of the traffic outside, a remarkable change took place in the
+demeanor of Mr. Benjamin Levy. His constrained, almost polished manner
+disappeared. His small, deep-set eyes sparkled with exultation, and all
+his natural vulgarity reasserted itself.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of that, guv'nor, eh?" he cried, patting him gently
+on the shoulder. "Good biz, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Benjamin, my son," returned the old man, with emotion, "our fortune is
+made. You are a jewel of a son."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A STRANGE MEETING</h3>
+
+
+<p>Grayness reigned everywhere&mdash;in the sky, on the hillside, and on the
+bare moor, no longer made resplendent by the gleaming beauty of the
+purple heather and fainter flashes of yellow gorse. The dry, springy
+turf had become a swamp, and phantom-like wreaths of mist blurred and
+saddened the landscape. The sweet stirring of the summer wind amongst
+the pine trees had given place to the melancholy drip of raindrops
+falling from their heavy, drooping branches on to the soddened ground.
+Every vestige of coloring had died out of the landscape&mdash;from the sea,
+the clouds, and the heath. It was the earth's mourning season, when the
+air has neither the keen freshness of winter, the buoyancy of spring,
+the sweet drowsy languor of summer, or the bracing exhilaration of
+autumn. It was November.</p>
+
+<p>Daylight was fast fading away; but the reign of twilight had not yet
+commenced. After a blustering morning, a sudden stillness had fallen
+upon the earth. The wild north wind had ceased its moaning in the pine
+trees, and no longer came booming across the level moorland. The dull
+gray clouds which all day long had been driven across the leaden sky in
+flying haste, hung low down upon the sad earth, and from over the water
+a sea fog rose to meet them. Nature had nothing more cheerful to offer
+than silence, a dim light, and indescribable desolation.</p>
+
+<p>A solitary man, with his figure carved out in sharp relief against the
+vaporous sky, stood on the highest point of the cliff. Everything in his
+attitude betokened the deepest dejection&mdash;in which at least he was in
+sympathy with his surroundings. His head drooped upon his bent
+shoulders, and his dark, weary eyes were fixed upon the rising sea fog
+in a vacant gaze. Warmly clad as he was, he seemed chilled through his
+whole being by the raw lifelessness of the air. Yet he did not move.</p>
+
+<p>The utter silence was suddenly broken by the rising of a little flock of
+gulls from among the stunted firs hanging down over the cliff. Almost
+immediately afterwards there came another sound, denoting the advance of
+a human being. The little hand gate leading out of the plantation was
+opened and shut, and light footsteps began to ascend the ridge of the
+cliffs on which he was standing, hesitating now and then, but always
+advancing. As soon as he became sure of this, he turned his head in the
+direction from which they came, and found himself face to face with
+Helen Thurwell.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time they had come together since the terrible night at
+Thurwell Court, when their eyes had met for an awful moment over the
+dead body of Rachel Kynaston. The memory of that scene flashed into the
+minds of both of them; from hers, indeed, it had seldom been absent. She
+stood face to face with the man whom she had been charged, by the
+passionate prayers of a dying woman, to hunt down and denounce as a
+murderer. They looked at one another with the same thoughts in the minds
+of both. The first step she had already taken. Henceforth he would be
+watched and dogged, his past life raked up, and his every action
+recorded. And she it was who had set the underhand machinery at work,
+she it was whom he, guilty or innocent, would think of as the woman who
+had hunted him down. If he should be innocent, and the time should come
+when he discovered all, what would he think of her? If he could have
+seen her a few days back in the office of Messrs. Levy &amp; Son, would he
+look at her as he was doing now? The thought sent a shiver through her.
+At that moment she hated herself.</p>
+
+<p>It was no ordinary meeting this, for him or for her. Had she been able
+to look him steadily in the face, she might have seen something of her
+own nervousness reflected there. But that was just what at first she was
+unable to do. One rapid glance into his pale features, which suffering
+and intellectual labor seemed in some measure to have etherealized, was
+sufficient. She had all the poignant sense of a culprit before an
+injured but merciful judge, and at that moment the memory of those dying
+words was faint within her. And so, though it is not usually the case,
+it was he who appeared the least disturbed, and he it was who broke that
+strange silence which had lasted several moments after she had come to a
+standstill before him.</p>
+
+<p>"You do not mind speaking to me, Miss Thurwell?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I do not mind," she answered in a low, hesitating tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Then may I take it that Miss Kynaston's words have not&mdash;damaged me in
+your esteem?" he went on, his voice quivering a little with suppressed
+anxiety. "You do not&mdash;believe&mdash;that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I neither believe nor disbelieve!" she interrupted. "Remember that you
+had an opportunity of denying it which you did not accept!"</p>
+
+<p>"That is true!" he answered slowly. "Let it remain like that, then. It
+is best."</p>
+
+<p>She had turned a little away as though to watch a screaming curlew fly
+low down and vanish in the fog. From where he stood on slightly higher
+ground he looked down at her curiously, for in more than one sense she
+was a puzzle to him. There was a certain indefiniteness in her manner
+toward him which he felt a passionate desire to construe. She seemed at
+once merciful and merciless, sympathetic and hard. Then, as he looked at
+her, he almost forgot all this wilderness of suffering and doubt. All
+his intense love for physical beauty, ministered to by the whole manner
+of his life, seemed rekindled in her presence. The tragedy of the
+present seemed to pass away into the background. From the moment when he
+had first caught a glimpse of her in the courtyard of the Palazzo Vechi,
+he had chosen her face and presence with which to endow his artist's
+ideal&mdash;and, since that time, what change there had been in her had been
+for the better. The animal spirits of light-hearted girlhood had become
+toned down into the more refined and delicate softness of thoughtful
+womanhood. In her thin supple figure there was still just the suspicion
+of incomplete development, which is in itself a fascination; and her
+country attire, the well-cut brown tweed ulster, the cloth cap from
+beneath which many little waves of fair silky hair had escaped, the trim
+gloves and short skirts&mdash;the most insignificant article of her
+attire&mdash;all seemed to bespeak that peculiar and subtle daintiness which
+is at the same time the sweetest and the hardest to define of nature's
+gifts to women.</p>
+
+<p>Even in the most acute crisis, woman's care for the physical welfare of
+man seems almost an instinct with her. Suddenly turning round, she saw
+how ill-protected he was against the weather, and a look of concern
+stole into her face.</p>
+
+<p>"How ridiculous of you to come out without an overcoat or anything on
+such a day as this!" she exclaimed. "Why, you must be wet through!&mdash;and
+how cold you look!"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled grimly. That she should think of such a thing just at that
+moment, seemed to him to be a peculiar satire upon what had been passing
+through his mind concerning her. Then a sudden thrill shook every limb
+in his body&mdash;his very pulses quickened. She had laid her gloved hand
+upon his arm, and, having withdrawn it, was regarding it ruefully. It
+was stained with wet.</p>
+
+<p>"You must go home at once!" she said, with a decision in her tone which
+was almost suggestive of authority. "You must change all your things,
+and get before a warm fire. Come, I will walk with you as far as
+Falcon's Nest. I am going round that way, and home by the footpath."</p>
+
+<p>They started off side by side. The first emotion of their meeting having
+passed away, he found it easier to talk to her, and he did so in an odd
+monosyllabic way which she yet found interesting. All her life she had
+been somewhat peculiarly situated with regard to companionship. Her
+father, having once taken her abroad and once to London for the season,
+considered that he had done his duty to her, and having himself long ago
+settled down to the life of a country squire, had expected her to be
+content with her position as his daughter and the mistress of his
+establishment. There was nothing particularly revolting to her in the
+prospect. She was not by any means emancipated. The "new woman" would
+have been a horror to her. But, unfortunately, although she was content
+to accept a comparatively narrow view of life, she was slightly
+epicurean in her tastes. She would have been quite willing to give up
+her life to a round of such pleasures as society and wealth can procure,
+but the society must be good and entertaining, and its pleasures must be
+refined and free from monotony. In some parts of England she might have
+found what would have satisfied her, and under the influence of a
+pleasure-seeking life, she would in due course have become the woman of
+a type. As she grew older the horizon of her life would have become more
+limited and her ideas narrower. She would have lived without tasting
+either the full sweetness or the full bitterness of life. She would have
+filled her place in society admirably, and there would have been nothing
+to distinguish her either for better or worse from other women in a
+similar position. But it happened that round Thurwell Court the people
+were singularly uninteresting. The girls were dull, and the men bucolic.
+Before she had spent two years in the country, Helen was intensely
+bored. A sort of chronic languor seemed to creep over her, and in a fit
+of desperation she had permitted herself to become engaged to Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, for the simple reason that he was different from the
+other men. Then, just as she was beginning to tremble at the idea of
+marriage with a man for whom she had never felt a single spark of love,
+there had come this tragedy, and, following close upon it, the vague
+consciousness of an utter change hovering over her life. What that
+change meant she was slow to discover. She was still unconscious of it
+as she walked over the cliffs with the grey mists hanging around them,
+side by side with her father's tenant. She knew that life had somehow
+become a fairer thing to her, and that for many years she had been
+living in darkness. And it was her companion, this mysterious stranger
+with his wan young face and sad thoughtful eyes, who had brought the
+light. She could see it flashing across the whole landscape of her
+future, revealing the promise of a larger life than any she had ever
+dreamed of, full of brilliant possibilities and more perfect happiness
+than any she had ever imagined. She told herself that he was the
+Columbus who had shown her the new land of culture, with all its fair
+places, intellectual and artistic. This was the whole meaning of the
+change in her. There could be nothing else.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>HELEN THURWELL ASKS A DIRECT QUESTION</h3>
+
+
+<p>At the summit of the little spur of cliff they paused. Close on one side
+were the windows of Falcon's Nest, and on the other the batch of black
+firs which formed the background to it ran down the steep cliff side to
+the sea. The path which they were following curved round the cottage,
+and crossed the moor within a few yards of the spot where Sir Geoffrey
+had been found. As they stood together for a moment before parting, she
+noticed, with a sudden cold dismay, that thick shutters had recently
+been fitted to the windows of the little room into which she had stolen
+on the day of Sir Geoffrey's murder.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you afraid of being robbed?" she asked. "One would imagine that
+your room there held a secret."</p>
+
+<p>She was watching him, and she told herself the shot had gone to its
+mark.</p>
+
+<p>He followed her finger with his eyes, and kept his face turned away from
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is so," he answered quietly. "That little room holds its
+secret and its ghost for me. Would to God," he cried, with a sudden
+passion trembling in his tones, "that I had never seen it&mdash;that I had
+never come here!"</p>
+
+<p>Her heart beat fast. Could it be that he was going to confess to her?
+Then he turned suddenly round, and in the twilight his white face and
+dark luminous eyes seemed to her like mute emblems of an anguish which
+moved her woman's heart to pity. There was none of the cowardice of
+guilt there, nothing of the criminal in the deep melancholy which seemed
+to have set its mark upon his whole being. And yet he must be very
+guilty&mdash;very much a criminal.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes strayed from his face back to the window again. There was no
+light anywhere in the house. It had a cold desolate look which chilled
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the room where you sit?" she asked, pointing to it.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. There is no other furnished, except my housekeeper's, and she is
+away now."</p>
+
+<p>"Away! Then who is with you in the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"At present, no one," he answered. "She was taken ill, and went home
+this morning. She is generally ill."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>"But who does your cooking for you, and light the fires, and that sort
+of thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't thought about it yet," he answered. "I did try to light the
+fire this afternoon, but I couldn't quite manage it. I&mdash;I think the
+sticks must have been damp," he added hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him, wet through and almost blue with cold, and at the
+dull cheerless-looking cottage. Again the woman in her triumphed, and
+her eyes filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard anything so preposterous," she exclaimed almost angrily.
+"You must be out of your senses, Mr. Brown. Now, be so good as to obey
+me at once. Go into the house and get a thick overcoat, the thickest you
+have, and then come home with me, and I will give you some tea."</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated, and stood quite still for a moment, with his face turned
+steadily away from her. All the subtle sweetness of that last visit of
+his to her home had come back to him, and his heart was sick with a
+great longing. Was he not a fool to refuse to enter into paradise, when
+the gates stood open for him? No words could describe the craving which
+he felt to escape, just for a brief while, from the lashings of his
+thoughts and the icy misery of his great loneliness. What though he were
+courting another sorrow! Could his state be worse than it was? Could any
+agony be keener than that which he had already tasted? Were there lower
+depths still in the hell of remorse? If so, he would sound them. Though
+he died for it, he would not deny himself this one taste of heaven. He
+turned suddenly round, with a glow in his eyes which had a strange
+effect upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very good to me, Miss Thurwell," he said. "I will come."</p>
+
+<p>"That is sensible of you," she answered. "Get your coat, and you can
+catch me up. I think we had better go back the same way, as it is
+getting late."</p>
+
+<p>She walked slowly down the path, and he hurried into the cottage. In a
+few minutes he overtook her, wrapped in a long Inverness cape from head
+to foot, and they walked on side by side.</p>
+
+<p>The grey afternoon had suddenly faded into twilight. Overhead several
+stars were already visible, dimly shining through a gauze-like veil of
+mist stretched all over the sky, and from behind a black line of firs on
+the top of a distant hill the moon had slowly risen, and was casting a
+soft weird light upon the saddened landscape. Grey wreaths of
+phantom-like mist were floating away across the moor, and a faint breeze
+had sprung up, and was moaning in the pine plantation when they reached
+the hand-gate. They paused for a moment to listen, and the dull roar of
+the sea from below mingled with it in their ears. She turned away with a
+shudder.</p>
+
+<p>"Come!" she said; "that sound makes me melancholy."</p>
+
+<p>"I like it," he answered. "Nature is an exquisite musician. I never yet
+heard the sea speak in a tone which I did not love to hear. Listen to
+that slow mournful rise of sound, reaching almost to intensity, and then
+dying away so sadly&mdash;with the sadness that thrills. Ah! did you hear
+that? The shrieking of those pebbles dragged down to the sea, and crying
+out in almost human agony. I love the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that why you came to this desolate part of the world?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Partly."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the whole reason," she said abruptly. "Was there anything
+special which made you fix on this neighborhood? You may think me
+curious, if you like&mdash;but I want to know."</p>
+
+<p>"I had a vow to keep," he answered hoarsely. "You must ask me no more. I
+cannot tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Her heart sank like lead. A vow to keep. There was something ominous in
+the sound of those words. She stole a glance at him as they walked on in
+silence, and again her judgments seemed put to confusion and her hopes
+revived. His face, dimly seen in the shadows of the plantation, was
+suddenly illuminated by a pale quivering moonbeam, as they passed
+through a slight opening. Could these be the features of a murderer? Her
+whole heart rebelled against her understanding, and cried out "No!" For
+the first time she realized the &aelig;sthetic beauty of his face, scarred and
+wasted though it was by the deep lines of intellectual toil and
+consuming sorrow. There was not a line out of place, save where his
+cheek-bones projected slightly, owing to his extreme thinness, and left
+deep hollows under his eyes. Nor was his expression the expression of a
+guilty man, for, notwithstanding the intense melancholy which dwelt
+always in his dark eyes, and seemed written into every feature, there
+was blended with it a strange pride, the slight yet wholesome contempt
+of a man conscious of a certain superiority in himself, neither physical
+nor in any way connected with material circumstances, over the majority
+of his fellows. And as the realization of this swept in upon her, and
+her faith in him suddenly leaped up with a new-born strength, there came
+with it a passionate desire to hear him proclaim his innocence with his
+own lips, and, having heard it, to banish for ever doubts and
+suspicions, and give herself up to this new sweetness which was hovering
+around her life. She caught hold of his hand, but dropped it almost at
+once, for the fire which flashed into his face at the touch of her
+fingers half frightened her. He had come to a sudden standstill, and
+before his eyes she felt hers droop and the hot color burn her cheeks.
+What had come to her? She could not tell. She was nervous, almost faint,
+with the dawning promise of a bewildering happiness. Yet her desire
+still clung to her, and she found words to express it.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot bear this any longer," she cried. "I must ask you a question,
+and you must answer it. The thought of it all is driving me mad."</p>
+
+<p>"For God's sake, ask me nothing!" he said in a deep hollow tone. "Let me
+go back. I should not be here with you."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall not go," she answered. "Stand there where the light falls
+upon your face, and answer me. Was it you who killed Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston? Tell me, for I will know."</p>
+
+<p>There was a dead silence, which seemed to her fevered nerves
+intolerable. From all around them came the quiet drip, drip, of the
+rain, from the bending boughs on to the damp soaked ground, and at that
+moment a slight breeze from over the moorland stirred amongst the
+branches, and the moisture which hung upon them descended in little
+showers. From below, the dull roar of the sea came up to them in a
+muffled undertone, like a melancholy background to the slighter sound.
+There was an indescribable dreariness about it all which quickened the
+acute agony of those few moments.</p>
+
+<p>More awful than anything to her was the struggle which she saw in that
+white strained face half hidden in his clasped hands. What could
+hesitation mean but guilt? What need was there for it? Her feet seemed
+turned to stone upon the cold ground, and her heart almost stopped
+beating. There was a film before her eyes, and yet she saw his face
+still, though dimly, and as if it were far off. She saw his hands
+withdrawn, and she saw his ashen lips part slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," he said in a low constrained
+voice. "If my life could have saved his, I would have given it."</p>
+
+<p>A warm golden light seemed suddenly to banish the misty gloom of the
+damp plantation. The color rushed into her cheeks, and her heart leaped
+for joy. She heard, and she believed.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God!" she cried, holding out both her hands to him with a sudden
+impulsive gesture. "Come! let us go now."</p>
+
+<p>She was smiling softly up at him, and her eyes were wet with tears. He
+took one quick passionate step towards her, seizing her hands, and
+drawing her unresistingly towards him. In a moment she would have been
+in his arms&mdash;already a great trembling had seized her, and her will had
+fled. But that moment was not yet.</p>
+
+<p>Something seemed to have turned him to stone. He dropped her fingers as
+though they were burning him. A vacant light eclipsed the passion which
+had shone a moment before in his eyes. Suddenly he raised his hands to
+the sky in a despairing gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"God forgive me!" he cried. "God forgive me!"</p>
+
+<p>For very shame at his touch, and her ready yielding to it, her eyes had
+fallen to the ground. When she raised them he was gone. There was the
+sound of his retreating footsteps, the quick opening and closing of the
+hand-gate, and through the trees she saw him walking swiftly over the
+cliffs. Then she turned away, with her face half hidden in her hands,
+and the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Again there was silence, only broken by the louder roar of the incoming
+tide, and the faint rustling of the leaves. Suddenly it was broken by a
+human voice, and a human figure slowly arose from a cramped posture
+behind a clump of shrubs.</p>
+
+<p>"Holy Moses! if this ain't a queer start," remarked Mr. Benjamin Levy,
+shaking the wet from his clothes, and slowly filling a pipe. "Wants him
+copped for murder, and yet tries to get him to make up to her. She's a
+deep un, she is. I wonder if she was in earnest! If only she was, I
+think I see my way to a real good thing&mdash;a real good thing," he
+repeated, meditatively.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>A LITERARY CELEBRITY</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was Tuesday afternoon, and the Countess of Meltoun was at home to the
+world&mdash;that is to say, her world. The usual throng of men of fashion,
+guardsmen, literary men, and budding politicians were bending over the
+chairs of their feminine acquaintances, or standing about in little
+groups talking amongst themselves. The clatter of teacups was mingled
+with the soft hum of voices; the pleasantly shaded room was heavy with
+the perfume of many flowers. People said that Lady Meltoun was the only
+woman in London who knew how to keep her rooms cool. It was hard to
+believe that outside the streets and pavements were hot with the
+afternoon sun.</p>
+
+<p>Helen Thurwell, who had come late with her aunt, was sitting on a low
+couch near one of the windows. By her side was Sir Allan Beaumerville,
+and directly in front of her the Earl of Meltoun, with a teacup in his
+hand, was telling her stories of his college days with her father. There
+had been a great change in her during the last six months. Looking
+closely into her face, it seemed as though she had felt the touch of a
+deep sorrow&mdash;a sorrow which had left all its refining influences upon
+her without any of the ravages of acute grief. Those few minutes in the
+pine grove by the sea had left their indelible mark upon her life, and
+it was only the stimulating memory of his own words to her concerning
+the weakness of idle yielding to regret, and the abstract beauty of
+sorrow which had been her salvation. They had come back to her in the
+time of her suffering fresh and glowing with truth; she had found a
+peculiar comfort in them, and they had become her religion. Thus she had
+set herself to conquer grief in the highest possible manner&mdash;not by
+steeping herself in false excitement, or rushing away for a change of
+scene, but by a deliberate series of intellectual and artistic
+abstractions, out of which she had come, still in a manner sorrowful,
+but with all her higher perceptions quickened and strengthened until the
+consciousness of their evolution, gradually growing within her, gave a
+new power and a new sweetness to her life.</p>
+
+<p>And of this victory she showed some traces in her face, which had indeed
+lost none of its physical beauty, but which had now gained a new
+strength and a new sweetness. She was more admired than ever, but there
+were men who called her difficult&mdash;even a little fastidious, and others
+who found her very hard to get on with. The great artist who had just
+taken Sir Allan Beaumerville's place by her side was not one of these.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad that you are here to-day, Miss Thurwell," he said, holding
+her grey-gloved hand in his for a moment. "I have been looking for you
+everywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"That is very nice of you," she answered, smiling up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! but I didn't mean only for my own sake. I know that you like
+meeting interesting people, and to-day there is an opportunity for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Really! and who is it, Mr. Carlyon? How good of you to think of me!"</p>
+
+<p>"You remember telling me how much you admire Maddison's work."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes! But he is not here, surely?" she exclaimed. "It cannot be
+he!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carlyon smiled at her sudden enthusiasm. After all, this woman had
+fire. She was too much of the artist to be without it.</p>
+
+<p>"He is not here now, but he will be. I could not believe it myself at
+first, for I know that he is a perfect recluse. But I have just asked
+Lady Meltoun, and there is no doubt about it. It seems that they came
+across him in a lonely part of Spain, and he saved the life of Lady
+Meltoun's only child&mdash;a little boy. It is quite a romantic story. He
+promised to come and seem them directly he returned to England, and he
+is expected here to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall like to see him very much," she said thoughtfully. "Lately I
+have been reading him a great deal. It is strange, but the tone of his
+writings seems always to remind me of some one I once knew."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no one of to-day who writes such prose," the artist answered.
+"To me, his work seems to have reached that exquisite blending of matter
+and form which is the essence of all true art."</p>
+
+<p>"All his ideas of culture and the inner life are so simple and yet so
+beautiful."</p>
+
+<p>"And the language with which he clothes them is divine. His work appeals
+everywhere to the purest and most artistic side of our emotional
+natures; and it is always on the same level. It has only one
+fault&mdash;there is so little of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know him?" she asked, deeply interested.</p>
+
+<p>"I do. I met him in Pisa some years ago, and, although he is a
+strangely reserved man, we became almost intimate. I am looking forward
+to introducing him to you."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall like it very much," she answered simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the fortunate individual to be so highly favored?" asked a
+pleasant voice close to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"You have returned, then, Sir Allan?" she said, looking up at him with a
+smile. "Have you heard the news? Do you know who is expected?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard nothing," he said. "If I am to have a sensation, it will
+be you who will impart it to me. Don't tell me all at once. I like
+expectancy."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"What an epicure you are, Sir Allan! Come, prepare for something very
+delightful, and I will tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it the prince?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"The Mikado in disguise? The Khedive incognito? Mr. Gladstone?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head again.</p>
+
+<p>"The sensation will be more delightful than you imagine, evidently.
+There have been many Khedives, and many Mikados, but there can never be
+another Bernard Maddison."</p>
+
+<p>A disturbed shade seemed to fall upon the baronet's face. She followed
+his eyes, riveted upon the door. The hum of conversation had suddenly
+ceased, and every one was looking in the same direction. On the
+threshold stood a tall, gaunt man, gazing in upon the scene before him
+with an expression of distinct aversion, mingled with indifference. He
+was dressed just like the other men, in a long frock coat, and he had a
+white gardenia in his buttonhole. But there was something about him
+distinct and noticeable&mdash;something in the quiet easy manner with which
+he at last moved forward to greet his hostess, which seemed to thrill
+her through and through with a sense of sweet familiarity. And then she
+caught a turn of his head as he stooped down over Lady Meltoun's hand,
+and a great wave of bewilderment, mingled with an acute throbbing joy,
+swept in upon her. This man, whom every one was gazing at with such
+eager interest, was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>A SNUB FOR A BARONET</h3>
+
+
+<p>Those few moments were full of a strange, intense interest to the three
+persons who side by side had watched the entrance of Mr. Bernard
+Maddison. To Helen Thurwell, whose whole being was throbbing with a
+great quickening joy, they were passed in a strenuous effort to struggle
+against the faintness which the shock of this great tumult of feeling
+had brought with it. To the artist, who loved her, they brought their
+own peculiar despair as he watched the light playing upon her features,
+and the new glow of happiness which shone in those sweet, sad eyes. And
+to Sir Allan Beaumerville, who had reasons of his own for surprise at
+this meeting, they brought a distinct sensation of annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>The artist was the first to recover himself. He knew that the battle was
+over for him, that this woman already loved, and that his cause was
+hopeless. And with little of man's ordinary selfishness on such
+occasions, his first thought was for her.</p>
+
+<p>"You would like to change your seat," he whispered. "Come with me into
+the recess yonder. I will show you some engravings."</p>
+
+<p>She flashed a grateful look up at him, and saw that he knew her secret.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like it," she said. "Walk that side of me, please."</p>
+
+<p>They rose and made their way to one of the little screened recesses
+which people&mdash;especially young people&mdash;said made Lady Meltoun's rooms so
+delightful. He placed a chair for her, and taking up a book of
+engravings buried himself in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't speak to me for five minutes, please," he said. "I am looking for
+a design."</p>
+
+<p>At the end of that time he closed the book, and looked up at her. There
+was no fear of her fainting now. She was very pale, but she seemed quite
+calm.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to speak to Maddison," he said quietly. "Do you&mdash;may I bring
+him and introduce him to you?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him with luminous eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please. Don't tell him my name, though."</p>
+
+<p>"It shall be as you wish," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>By moving her chair a few inches she could see into the room. He was
+still standing by Lady Meltoun's side, listening with an absent smile to
+her chatter, and every now and then bowing gravely to the people whom
+she introduced to him. The hum of conversation had been renewed, but
+many curious glances were cast in his direction, of which he seemed
+altogether unconscious. Even had there not been his great fame as a
+critic and a writer, and the romance of his strange manner of life to
+interest people, his personal appearance alone was sufficient to attract
+attention. He was taller by several inches than any man in the room, and
+his thin oval face, refined yet strong and full of a subtle artistic
+sensibility, was in itself a deeply interesting study. How different he
+appeared here in his well-fitting, fashionable clothes, and calm
+distinctive manner, and with just that essence of wearied languor in his
+dark eyes which men of the world can only imitate! He had changed, and
+yet he had not changed, she thought. He was the same, and yet there was
+a difference. Presently she saw Mr. Carlyon reach his side, and the
+greeting which passed between the two men was marked with a certain
+quiet cordiality which bore out Mr. Carlyon's words, that they had once
+been fellow-workers. Watching his opportunity, the artist drew him a
+little on one side, and made his request. Helen drew back trembling with
+expectancy. But a few minutes later Mr. Carlyon came back to her alone.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry," he said simply, "but, even to oblige me, Maddison won't
+come. I had no idea he was such a misogynist. He is here, he says, to
+keep a promise, but he wishes for no acquaintances, and he absolutely
+declines to be introduced to any woman, unless it is forced upon him.
+What shall I do? Shall I tell him your name?"</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't tell him that," she said. "Do you remember a few lines of
+poetry of his at the end of his last volume of criticisms? There is a
+little clump of firs on the top of a bare wind-swept hill, with the moon
+shining faintly through a veil of mist, and a man and woman standing
+together like carved figures against the sky, listening to the far-off
+murmur of the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember it," he said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then will you tell him that some one&mdash;some one who has seen such a
+place as he describes, is&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell him," Mr. Carlyon answered. "I think that he will come
+now."</p>
+
+<p>He left her again, and went back towards Mr. Maddison. Just as he got
+within speaking distance he saw a slight quiver pass across the white
+face, as though he had recognized some one in the crowd. Mr. Carlyon
+hesitated, and decided to wait for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>They were standing face to face, Sir Allan Beaumerville, the
+distinguished baronet, who had added to the dignity of an ancient family
+and vast wealth, a great reputation as a savant and a <i>dilettante</i>
+physician, and Mr. Bernard Maddison, whose name alone was sufficient to
+bespeak his greatness. In Sir Allan's quiet, courteous look, there was a
+slightly puzzled air as though there were something in the other's face
+which he only half remembered. In Mr. Maddison's fixed gaze there was a
+far greater intensity&mdash;something even of anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely we have met before, Mr. Maddison," the baronet said easily.
+"Your face seems quite familiar to me. Ah! I remember now, it was near
+that place of Lord Lathon's, Mallory Grange, upon the coast. A terrible
+affair, that."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a terrible affair," Mr. Maddison repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"And have you just come from &mdash;&mdash;shire?" Sir Allan asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I have been abroad for several months," Mr. Maddison answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Abroad!" Sir Allan appeared a little more interested. "In what part?"
+he asked civilly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been in Spain, and the south of France, across the Hartz
+mountains, and through the Black Forest."</p>
+
+<p>"Not in Italy?" Sir Allan inquired.</p>
+
+<p>There was a short silence, and Sir Allan seemed really anxious for the
+reply. It came at last.</p>
+
+<p>"No; not in Italy."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan seemed positively pleased to think that Mr. Maddison had not
+extended his travels to Italy. There was a quiet gleam in his eyes which
+seemed almost like relief. Doubtless he had his reasons, but they were
+a little obscure.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Shall you call upon me while you are in town, Mr. Maddison?" he
+asked, in a tone from which all invitation was curiously lacking.</p>
+
+<p>"I think not," Mr. Maddison answered. "My stay here will be brief. I
+dislike London."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan laughed gently.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the only place in the world fit to live in," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"My work and my tastes demand a quieter life," Mr. Maddison remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"You will go into the country then, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"That is my intention," was the quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Back to the same neighborhood."</p>
+
+<p>"It is possible."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan looked searchingly into the other's calm, expressionless face.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought that the associations&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maddison was evidently not used to society. Several people said so
+who saw him suddenly turn his back on that charming old gentleman, Sir
+Allan Beaumerville, and leave him in the middle of a sentence. Lady
+Meltoun, who happened to notice it, was quite distressed at seeing an
+old friend treated in such a manner. But Sir Allan took it very nicely,
+everybody said. There had been a flush in his face just for a moment,
+but it soon died away. It was his own fault, he declared. He had
+certainly made an unfortunate remark, and these artists and literary men
+were all so sensitive. He hoped that Lady Meltoun would think no more of
+it, and accordingly Lady Meltoun promised not to. But though, of course,
+she and every one else who had seen it sympathized with Sir Allan, there
+were one or two, with whom Sir Allan was not quite such a favorite, who
+could not help remarking upon the grand air with which Mr. Maddison had
+turned his back upon the baronet, and the dignity with which he had left
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Carlyon, who had been watching for his opportunity, buttonholed
+Maddison, and led him into a corner.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got you now," he said triumphantly. "My dear fellow, whatever made
+you snub poor Sir Allan like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind. Come and make your adieux to Lady Meltoun, and let us go. I
+should not have come here."</p>
+
+<p>"One moment first, Maddison," the artist said seriously. "Do you
+remember those lines of yours in which a man and woman stand on a bare
+hill by a clump of pines, and watch the misty moonlight cast weird
+shadows upon the hillside and over the quivering sea? 'A Farewell,' you
+called it, I think?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I remember them."</p>
+
+<p>"Maddison, the woman to whom I wished to introduce you bids you to go to
+her by the memory of those lines."</p>
+
+<p>There was very little change in his face. It only grew a little more
+rigid, and a strange light gleamed in his eyes. But the hand which he
+had laid on Carlyon's arm to draw him towards Lady Meltoun suddenly
+tightened like a band of iron, till the artist nearly cried out with
+pain.</p>
+
+<p>"Let go my arm, for God's sake, man!" he said in a low tone, "and I will
+take you to her."</p>
+
+<p>"I am ready," Mr. Maddison answered quietly. "Ah! I see where she is.
+You need not come."</p>
+
+<p>He crossed the room, absolutely heedless of more than one attempt to
+stop him. Mr. Carlyon watched him, and then with a sore heart bade his
+hostess farewell, and hurried away. He was generous enough to help
+another man to his happiness, but he could not stay and watch it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>BERNARD MADDISON AND HELEN THURWELL</h3>
+
+
+<p>And so it was in Lady Meltoun's drawing-room that they met again, after
+those few minutes in the pine plantation which had given color and
+passion to her life, and which had formed an epoch in his. Neither were
+unmindful of the fact that if they were not exactly the centre of
+observation, they were still liable to it in some degree, and their
+greeting was as conventional as it well could have been. After all, she
+thought, why should it be otherwise? There had never a word of love
+passed between them&mdash;only those few fateful moments of tragic intensity,
+when all words and thoughts had been merged in a deep reciprocal
+consciousness which nothing could have expressed.</p>
+
+<p>He stood before her, holding her hand in his for a moment longer than
+was absolutely necessary, and looking at her intently. It was a gaze
+from which she did not shrink, more critical than passionate, and when
+he withdrew his eyes he looked away from her with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been living!" he said. "Tell me all about it!"</p>
+
+<p>She moved her skirts to make room for him by her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down!" she said, "and I will try."</p>
+
+<p>He obeyed, but when she tried to commence and tell him all that she had
+felt and thought, she could not. Until that moment she scarcely
+realized how completely her life had been moulded by his influence. It
+was he who had first given her a glimpse of that new world of thought
+and art, and almost epicurean culture into which she had made some
+slight advance during his absence, and it was certain vague but sweet
+recollections of him which had lived with her and flowed through her
+life&mdash;a deep undercurrent of passion and poetry, throwing a golden halo
+over all those new sensations&mdash;which had raised her existence, and her
+ideals of existence on to a higher level. How could she tell him this?
+The time might come when she could do so, and if ever it did come, she
+knew that it would be the happiest moment of her life. But it was not
+yet.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me a little of yourself," she said evasively. "You have been
+traveling, have you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I have been traveling a little!" he answered. "In Spain I was
+taken ill, and Lady Meltoun was kind to me. That is why I am here."</p>
+
+<p>"But you do not say how it was that you were taken ill," she said, her
+cheeks suddenly glowing. "You saved her son's life. We saw all about it
+in the papers, but of course we did not know that it was you. It was
+splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you saw it in the papers at all, depend upon it, it was very much
+exaggerated!" he answered quietly. "Your father received my letter, I
+suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the cottage has been shut up, just as you desired. Are you ever
+coming to take possession again?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so&mdash;some day&mdash;and yet I do not know. There are strange things in
+my life, Miss Thurwell, which every now and then rise up and drive me
+away into aimless wanderings. Life has no goal for me&mdash;it cannot have.
+I stand for ever on the brink of a precipice."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sadness in his voice which almost brought the tears into her
+eyes&mdash;mostly for his sake, partly for her own. For, though he might
+never know it, were not his sorrows her sorrows?</p>
+
+<p>"Are they sorrows which you can tell to no one?" she asked softly. "Can
+no one help you?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No one."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet no sorrow can last for ever that has not guilt at its root,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine will last while life lasts," he answered; "and there is&mdash;no guilt
+at the root."</p>
+
+<p>"You have taken up another's burden," she said. "Is it well? Do you owe
+nothing to yourself, and your own genius? Sorrow may shorten your life,
+and the world can ill spare your work."</p>
+
+<p>"There are others who can do my work," he said. "No other can&mdash;&mdash;But
+forgive me. I wish to talk of this no more. Tell me of your life since I
+left you. Something in your face tells me that it has been well spent.
+Let me hear of it."</p>
+
+<p>And, gathering up all her courage, she told him. Piece by piece she took
+up the disconnected thoughts and ideas which had come to her, and wove
+them together after the pattern of her life&mdash;to which he listened with a
+calm approval, in which was sometimes mingled a deeper enthusiasm, as
+she touched a chord which in his own being had often been struck to deep
+tremulous music. And as she went on he grew sad. With such a companion
+as this woman, whose sensibilities were his sensibilities, and whose
+instincts so naturally cultured, so capable of the deeper coloring and
+emotional passion which his influence could speedily develop&mdash;with such
+a woman as this&mdash;whom already he loved, what might not life mean for
+him? Well, it must pass. Another of those bright butterfly visions of
+his fancy, gorgeous with hope and brilliancy&mdash;another one to be crushed
+by the iron hand of necessity. He had gone away wounded, and he had come
+back to find the wound still bleeding.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the rooms were thinning, and at last Lady Thurwell, impatient
+of her niece's long absence, came to fetch her. When she found her
+<i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i> with the lion of the day, however, her manner was most
+gracious.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you have been able to persuade Mr. Maddison to come and see us,"
+she said to her niece. "We are at home on Thursdays at Cadogan Square,
+and we lunch every day at two," she added, turning towards him. "Come
+whenever you like."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very good, Lady Thurwell," he said, accepting her offered hand.
+"I am only passing through London, but if I have the opportunity I shall
+avail myself of your kindness."</p>
+
+<p>She left them together for a moment while she made her adieux to her
+hostess. In that moment Helen found courage to yield to a sudden
+impulse.</p>
+
+<p>"Please come," she said softly.</p>
+
+<p>He had no time to answer, for Lady Meltoun had come up to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell," she said good-naturedly, "I don't know when I shall
+forgive you for monopolizing Mr. Maddison in this shameful manner. Why,
+there were quite a crowd of people came this afternoon only to catch a
+glimpse of him, and there was nothing to be seen but his boots behind
+that screen. I am in terrible disgrace, I can assure you!"</p>
+
+<p>"The fault was mine," he interposed, "altogether mine. In an
+ungovernable fit of shyness, I took refuge with the only person except
+yourself, Lady Meltoun, whom I was fortunate enough to know. I simply
+refused to come away."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I suppose I must forgive you, or you won't come again," Lady
+Meltoun said. "But now you are here, you must really stop and see Edgar.
+When every one has gone we will go up to the nursery, and in the
+meantime you may make yourself useful by taking Lady Thurwell out to her
+carriage. I'm afraid there's rather a crush."</p>
+
+<p>So they all three went out together, and while they stood waiting for
+Lady Thurwell's victoria, he managed to say a word to her alone.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come and see you," he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him a little shyly, for in handing her into the
+carriage he had assumed a certain air of proprietorship which had
+brought a faint color into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Come soon," she whispered. "Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded brightly, and Lady Thurwell smiled as the horses started
+forward, and the carriage drove away.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder who Mr. Maddison really is?" she said, half to herself, just
+as they reached home.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Thurwell shrugged her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean who his family are?" she asked. "My dear, it isn't of the
+slightest consequence. Bernard Maddison is Bernard Maddison, and his
+position would be just what it is, even though his father were a coal
+heaver."</p>
+
+<p>Which remark showed that Lady Thurwell, as well as being a woman of
+society, was also a woman of sense. But Helen was not thinking of his
+family.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A CHEQUE FOR &pound;1,000</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was ten o'clock in the morning, and the usual routine of business had
+commenced in the office of Messrs. Levy &amp; Son. Mr. Levy, senior, was
+sitting at his desk opening his letters, and Mr. Benjamin, who had only
+just returned from a long journey on business of the firm, and did not
+feel inclined for office work, was leaning back in the client's chair,
+with his feet up against the mantelpiece, and a partly smoked cigar in
+his mouth. He had just finished a long account of his adventures, and
+was by no means inclined to quit the subject.</p>
+
+<p>"Altogether, dad," he was saying, "it's about the prettiest piece of
+business we ever struck. But one thing is very certain. We must get some
+more tin from Miss Thurwell. Why, I've been at it five months now, and
+the expenses at some of those foreign hotels were positively awful. Not
+knowing the confounded lingo, you see, I was forced to stump up, without
+trying the knocking-off game."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Benjamin. Yes, my son. We must certainly have some more of the
+rhino. Your expenses have been positively e-normous, e-normous,"
+declared the old man, with uplifted hands and eyes. "Some of your drafts
+have brought tears into my eyes. Positively tears," he echoed
+mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't be helped, guv'nor. The thing had to be done."</p>
+
+<p>"And you have got it nearly all in order now, Benjamin, eh? You've got
+him under your thumb, eh? He can't escape?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not he! Mark my words, dad. The rope's already woven that'll go round
+his neck."</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>"If he's such a learned, clever man as you say&mdash;writes books and such
+like&mdash;they'll never hang him, my son. They'll reprieve him. That's what
+they'll do."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care a blooming fig which it is, so long as it comes off. Do
+you remember what I told you when Miss Thurwell first came here, dad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly, my son, perfectly. You said that our fortune was made. Those
+were your very words," he added, with glistening eyes. "Our fortune is
+made."</p>
+
+<p>"And what I said I'll stick to," Mr. Benjamin declared. "When this case
+comes off, it'll be the biggest thundering sensation of the day. And
+who'll get the credit of it all? Who tracked him down for all his false
+name and sly ways; hunted him all over Europe, found out who he really
+was, and why he hated Sir Geoffrey Kynaston so much that he murdered
+him? Why, I did, dad&mdash;Benjamin Levy, of Levy &amp; Son, Carle Street,
+Strand. Ain't it glorious, guv'nor? Ain't it proud?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin's enthusiasm was catching. It was reflected in his father's
+face, and something glistened in his eyes. He removed his spectacles,
+and carefully wiped them. After all, he was a father, and he had a
+father's feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"When will the time come, Benjamin?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"A month to-day, I hope," was the prompt reply. "I have one more
+journey to take, and it will be all square."</p>
+
+<p>"Where to? How far?" inquired the old gentleman uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin looked at him, and shook his head. "Come, dad, I know what
+you are thinking of," he said. "It's the expense, ain't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is, Benjamin," his father groaned. "I hate parting with hard-earned
+money for exorbitant bills and these long journeys. Couldn't it be done
+without it, Ben?" he inquired, in a wheedling tone. "There's piles of
+money gone already in expenses. Piles and piles."</p>
+
+<p>"And if there is, ain't it Miss Thurwell's, you old stupid?" remarked
+Mr. Benjamin. "'Tain't likely that we should find the money ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, of course. But, Benjamin, my son, the money is thrown away
+for all that. We could charge it, you know&mdash;charge it always. We must
+have a margin&mdash;we must positively have a margin to work with."</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, dad, what an old sinner you are!" exclaimed his hopeful son,
+leaning back in his chair and laughing. "A margin to work with. Ha! ha!
+ha!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy looked uncertain whether to regard his son's merriment as a
+compliment, or to resent it. Eventually, the former appeared to him the
+wisest course, and he smiled feebly.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, just you leave this matter with me," Mr. Benjamin said at last. "I
+know what I'm doing, and unless I'm very much mistaken, I see my way to
+make this a bigger thing, even as regards the cash, than you and I ever
+dreamed of. Leave it to me. Hullo! who's that?"</p>
+
+<p>He peered up over the office blind, and sat down again at once. In a
+moment his cigar was behind the grate, and his expression completely
+changed.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Miss Thurwell, dad," he said coolly, "and I'll bet ten to one I
+know what she wants. Mind you leave it all to me. I've no time to
+explain, but you'll spoil it if you interfere. Come in. Why, Miss
+Thurwell, we were this moment talking of you," he continued, springing
+to his feet and offering her a chair. "Please come in."</p>
+
+<p>Helen advanced into the room, and lifted her veil. One swift glance into
+her flushed face confirmed Mr. Benjamin's idea as to the reason of her
+visit, and he commenced talking rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you've come this morning, Miss Thurwell. I only got back from
+Spain yesterday, and I'm thankful to tell you our case is nearly
+complete. Thankful for your sake, because you will have the satisfaction
+of seeing the murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston brought to book, and
+thankful for ours, because we shall at one stroke establish our
+reputation. I need not tell you that that is far more to us than the
+reward will be, for our expenses have been enormous."</p>
+
+<p>"Enormous!" groaned Mr. Levy, senior.</p>
+
+<p>"However, we have decided not to take another penny of money from you,
+Miss Thurwell," he continued, casting a warning glance at his father.
+"After all, the money is not so much to us as our reputation, and this
+will be made for ever, now."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin paused, a little out of breath, but quite satisfied with
+himself. Opposite, his father was purple with anger, and almost choking
+at his son's folly. Take no more money from Miss Thurwell! Was the boy
+mad?</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid, from what you say, Mr. Levy," Helen said hesitatingly,
+"that you will be rather disappointed when I tell you the reason of my
+visit."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin, who knew perfectly well what she was going to say, assumed
+an expression of deep concern.</p>
+
+<p>"I find," she continued, "that we must have been making a mistake all
+along, and you have evidently been misled. This Mr. Brown, who appeared
+such a mysterious personage to us, and whom we therefore suspected, is
+no other than Bernard Maddison."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I knew that," Mr. Benjamin remarked quietly. "I found that out
+very soon, of course. Author, and all that sort of thing, isn't he?
+Well, go on, Miss Thurwell, please. I am anxious."</p>
+
+<p>She looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you see that this does away with our theory at once? It is quite
+impossible that a man like Bernard Maddison could have committed a
+horrible crime like this."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin looked ingenuously perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say that I follow you, Miss Thurwell," he said, shaking his
+head. "All I know is that I can prove this Mr. Bernard Brown, or Bernard
+Maddison, or whatever else he chooses to call himself, guilty of that
+murder. That's what we want, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>A cold chill passed over her, and she was compelled to sink into the
+chair which stood by her side. Like a flash she suddenly realized the
+impossibility of convincing such men as these of his innocence. Yet,
+even then, the worst side of the situation did not occur to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps we had better put it in this way, Mr. Levy," she said. "I gave
+you certain instructions to follow out, which I now rescind. I wish
+nothing further done in the matter."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin's face was a study. He had contrived to conjure up an
+expression which combined the blankest surprise with the keenest
+disappointment. Helen began to feel still more uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>"Under the circumstances," she said, "and as you seem rather
+disappointed, I will pay you the reward just as though the thing had
+gone on."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin shook his head slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, Miss Thurwell, that you are proposing a conspiracy to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"A conspiracy!" she repeated. "I don't understand."</p>
+
+<p>"It's very simple," he went on gravely. "I have in my possession, or
+shortly shall have, every particular of this Mr. Maddison's life. I can
+show the connection between him and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, and, in
+short, I can prove him guilty of murder. What you ask me to do is to
+suppress this. That is the moral side of the question. Then, with regard
+to the practical side, if this thing is gone on with, we shall get the
+reward you promised and, what is far more important to us, a reputation
+which we have looked forward to as a certain foundation for a great
+extension of our business. If, on the other hand, we drop it, we get
+simply the reward, which, pardon my saying so, would be a miserable
+return for all our labor. That is how the matter stands from our point
+of view. I think I've expressed it fairly, father?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy, who had assumed a far more contented expression, solemnly
+assented. What a son this was of his, he thought. Bless him!</p>
+
+<p>Helen was very pale, and her heart was beating fast. Why had she come to
+this place, and put herself in the power of these men? It was too
+dreadful.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not desire to hear a word of Mr. Maddison's history," she said.
+"This thing must be stopped. I have my cheque book with me. Cannot you
+take money to withdraw from it?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin looked at his father gravely, and Mr. Levy shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear young lady," he said, "this is a very serious thing, a very
+serious thing."</p>
+
+<p>"The fact is," said Mr. Benjamin, "I was going to Scotland Yard for a
+warrant this morning."</p>
+
+<p>Helen looked from one to the other appealingly, with tears in her eyes.
+Mr. Benjamin appeared to be somewhat moved thereby.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, dad," he said, "suppose we go into the other room and talk
+this thing over for a few minutes. Miss Thurwell will not mind excusing
+us."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. Only don't be long!" she pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>They left her for barely five minutes, although to her, waiting in an
+agony of impatience, it seemed much longer. When they returned, they
+both looked very solemn.</p>
+
+<p>"We have talked this matter over thoroughly, Miss Thurwell," said Mr.
+Benjamin, taking up his old position at the desk, "and we cannot help
+seeing that it is a great risk for us to run to suppress our
+information, and a great disappointment."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so, quite so," interrupted Mr. Levy. "A great risk, and a great
+disappointment!"</p>
+
+<p>"Still, we are willing and anxious to help you," Mr. Benjamin continued,
+"and, if you like, we will do so on these terms. If you like to give us
+a cheque for a thousand pounds, we will agree to let the matter stand
+over for the present. We cannot give you any undertaking to absolutely
+destroy or suppress any evidence we may have against Mr. Maddison, as
+that would be a distinct conspiracy, but we will agree to suspend our
+present action, and to do nothing without communicating with you."</p>
+
+<p>She moved to the desk, and drew out her cheque book.</p>
+
+<p>"I will do it," she said. "Give me a pen, please."</p>
+
+<p>There was not the slightest sign of emotion on either of their faces.
+They received the cheque, bowed her out, and watched her disappear into
+the street without making any sign. Then Mr. Benjamin's exultation broke
+out.</p>
+
+<p>"Dad, I told you that our fortune was made, didn't I. Was I right or
+wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy was so overcome with parental affection, that he could scarcely
+command his voice. But he did so with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"You were right, my son," he exclaimed. "You were right, Benjamin. We
+will go together and cash the cheque."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY FOR BERNARD BROWN</h3>
+
+
+<p>A March wind was roaring over the open moorland, driving huge masses of
+black clouds across the angry sky, and whistling amongst the dark
+patches of pine trees, until it seemed as though their slender stems
+must snap before the strain. All around Falcon's Nest the country, not
+yet released from the iron grip of a late winter, lay wasted and
+desolate; and the heath, which had lost all the glowing touch of autumn,
+faded into the horizon bare and colorless. Nowhere was there any relief
+of outline, save where the white front of Thurwell Court stretched
+plainly visible through a park of leafless trees.</p>
+
+<p>And of all the hours of the day it was at such a season the most
+depressing. Faint gleams of the lingering day still hung over the
+country, struggling with the stormy twilight, and a pale, wan glare,
+varied with long black shadows, moved swiftly across the sea and the
+moor&mdash;the reflection of the flying clouds overhead.</p>
+
+<p>A single human being, the figure of a tall man clad in an ulster
+buttoned up to the throat, was making his way across the open country.
+He walked rapidly&mdash;and, indeed, there was nothing to tempt any one to
+linger&mdash;and his destination was obvious. He was on his way to Falcon's
+Nest.</p>
+
+<p>A drearier abode than it appeared that afternoon never raised its four
+walls to the sky. The grounds which surrounded it had been swept bare
+by the storms of winter, and nothing had been done to repair the
+destruction which they had accomplished. Uprooted shrubs lay dead and
+dying upon the long dank grass, and the creepers torn from the walls
+hung down in pitiful confusion. Every window reflected back the same
+blank uninviting gloom. There was no light, no single sign of
+habitation. Mr. Thurwell had evidently respected his tenant's wish to
+the letter. The place had not been touched or entered during his
+absence.</p>
+
+<p>The pedestrian, Mr. Bernard Brown himself, leaned over the gate for a
+moment, silently contemplating the uninviting scene with a grim smile.
+He had reasons of his own for being satisfied that the place had not
+been interfered with, and it certainly seemed as though such were the
+case.</p>
+
+<p>After a few minutes' hesitation he drew a key from his pocket and fitted
+it in the lock. There was a resistance when he tried to turn it that he
+did not understand. Stooping down, he suddenly tried the handle. It
+opened smoothly. The gate was unlocked. He withdrew the key with
+trembling fingers. All his relief at the dismantled appearance of the
+cottage had disappeared. A strange unquiet look shone in his eyes, and
+his manner suddenly became nervous and hurried. He had locked the gate
+on his departure, he was sure, and Mr. Thurwell's steward had told him
+that there was no duplicate set of keys. How could it have been opened
+save with a skeleton key.</p>
+
+<p>He walked quickly up the path to the front door. Here a greater shock
+still awaited him. The latch-key which he held ready in his hand was not
+needed. He tried the handle, and the door opened.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown grew white to the lips, and he shrank back as though afraid
+or reluctant to enter the house. The door stood ajar. He pushed it open
+with his stick, and peered in upon the darkness. Everything was silent
+as the grave. He listened for a moment, and then, his natural courage
+returning, he stepped inside, and closed the door after him. The
+shutting out of the few gleams of daylight which lingered in the sky
+left him in utter darkness. Fumbling in his pocket, he produced a wax
+candle wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and a box of matches, one of
+which he carefully struck.</p>
+
+<p>At first the gloom seemed too profound to be dispersed by the feeble
+flickering light, but gradually, as his eyes became accustomed to it, he
+began to distinguish the more familiar objects. Half fearfully he
+glanced towards the door on the right-hand side. It stood half open.
+There was no longer room for any doubt. The house had been opened during
+his absence.</p>
+
+<p>The full realization of any disaster often brings with it a calm which,
+to all outward appearance, contrasts favorably with the prior state of
+anxiety. This appeared to be the case with Mr. Bernard Brown. His
+entrance to the house had been hesitating and anxious, but as soon as he
+was convinced that what he dreamed had really come to pass, his
+nervousness seemed to fall away from him, and he was his old self again,
+calm and resolute. Holding the flickering candle high above his head, he
+moved steadily forward into the room on the right-hand side of the
+entrance.</p>
+
+<p>Everything here was exactly as he had left it. The cases filled with
+books, some half emptied, some untouched, still lay about the floor,
+with the dust thick upon them. He cast one swift glance around, and then
+walked across and opened the door of the small inner room. The sudden
+draught extinguished his candle, and he found himself suddenly in total
+darkness. The closely barred shutters, which protected the low window,
+were securely fastened, and effectually shut out the lingering remnants
+of daylight. Stooping down, he re-lit the candle which he was still
+carrying, and holding it high over his head, looked anxiously around.
+One glance was sufficient. In the corner of the room opposite to him was
+a small table, where he always kept a basin of cold water and some clean
+towels. Round here the carpet had been torn up, and rearranged, with
+little pretence at concealment. Nearer the window stood a large oak
+cabinet, the most important piece of furniture in the room, and this he
+saw again in a moment had been tampered with. It had been moved a little
+out of its position, and one of the lower drawers stood partly open.</p>
+
+<p>Like a man in a dream he slowly walked across to it and drew out a bunch
+of keys from his pocket. The final test had yet to be applied, and the
+final blow to fall.</p>
+
+<p>He unlocked the topmost partition, and revealed a number of small
+drawers. Eagerly he drew out the topmost one, and looked inside. Then he
+knew the worst. It was empty. There was no longer any doubt whatever.
+His cottage had been entered by no ordinary housebreaker, for the
+purpose of plunder, but with a set of false keys, and with a far more
+serious object. The secret on which more than his life depended was
+gone!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>GOD! THAT I MAY DIE!</h3>
+
+
+<p>For a certain space of time, which seemed to him indefinite, but which
+was indeed of no great length, he stood there stunned, gazing at the
+rifled cabinet. Then, as consciousness returned to him, the roar of the
+storm without fell upon his ears, and struck some strange note of accord
+with the tumult in his brain. Turning round, he unbarred the shutters,
+and, opening the window, stepped outside. With slow, uncertain steps he
+made his way through the dense black plantation of shrieking fir trees,
+and out on to the cliffs. Here he paused, and stood quite still, looking
+across the sea. There was no light in the sky, but the veil of absolute
+darkness had not yet fallen upon the earth. Far away on the horizon was
+a lurid patch of deep yellow storm-clouds, casting a faint glimmer upon
+the foaming sea, which seemed to leap up in a weird monotonous joy to
+catch the unearthly light. From inland, rolling across the moorland,
+came phantom-like masses of vaporous cloud, driven on by the fierce wind
+which boomed across the open country, and shrieked and yelled amongst
+the pine plantations as though mad with a sudden hellish joy. On the
+verge of the cliff he stretched out his arms, as though to welcome the
+wild din of the night. The thunder of the ocean, seething and leaping
+against the rocks below, shook the air around him. The salt spray leaped
+up into his white face, and the winds blew against him, and the
+passionate cry of saddened nature rang in his deafened ears. At that
+moment those things were a joy to him.</p>
+
+<p>And there came to him then something of that strange sweet calm which
+lays its soothing hand for a moment upon those who stand face to face
+with death, or any other mighty crisis. Looking steadfastly far away,
+beyond the foaming waste of waters to where one faint streak of
+stormlight shone on the horizon, pictures of the past began to rise up
+before his eyes. He saw himself again a happy, light-hearted child,
+riding gaily upon his father's shoulder, and laughing up into the
+beautiful face of his youthful mother. The memories of that time, and of
+his first home, came back to him with a peculiar freshness and
+fragrance, like a painting by one of the old masters, perfect in design,
+and with its deep rich coloring softened and mellowed by age. He
+remembered the bright beauty of those sunny southern gardens, where he
+had passed long hours listening to the gentle splashing of the water in
+the worn grey fountain bowl, and breathing in the soft spring-like air,
+faint with the sweetness of Roman violets. And, half unconsciously, his
+thoughts travelled on to the time when all the pure beauty of his
+surroundings&mdash;for his had been an artist's home&mdash;had begun to have a
+distinct meaning for him, and in the fervor of an esthetic and unusually
+thoughtful youth, he had dreamed, and felt, and tasted deep of pleasures
+which the world yields only to those who stoop to listen to her secrets,
+with the quickened sensibilities and glowing imagination of the
+artist&mdash;one of her own children. He had read her in such a way that he
+found himself struggling, even in early boyhood, for some means of
+expression&mdash;but at that time none had come to him. The fruits of his
+later life had been the result of his early experience, but how
+embittered, how saddened by the unchanging gloom, which, at one period,
+had seemed as though it must dry up for ever all enthusiasm from his
+boyish heart. What a fire of passions had blazed up and died away within
+him; and as he thought of that sudden dying away, he thought of the
+moment when they had been quenched for ever, and of the voice which had
+quenched them. Again he crouched on his knees by the side of the sofa
+drawn up close to the high open windows of the Italian villa, and felt
+that thin white hand laid gently upon his trembling lips, checking in a
+moment the flood of angry words which in his heart had been but the
+prelude to a curse. The calm of that death-white face, with its marble
+passionless pallor and saint-like beauty, lingered still, faithfully
+treasured up in the rich store-house of his memory. Death alone would
+wipe it out. It was one of the experiences of his life, written alike
+into his undying recollection, and into his heart.</p>
+
+<p>And then had come that period of severe struggle with himself, out of
+which he had emerged not only a conqueror, but with all the spoils of
+conquest. For he had found himself, after the battle was fought out and
+won, possessed of a more triumphant self-control, and a complete mastery
+over those fierce earthly passions which, had they held sway for long,
+would in time most surely have weakened that higher and purer part of
+his nature from which all the good of his life had come. It was, indeed,
+in some measure owing to the wholesome discipline of this struggle that
+he had found at last the long-sought-for gift of expression, and,
+taking up the pen, had sent forth golden words and thoughts into an age
+where such metal was rare indeed. Always there had been this dark cloud
+of anxiety looming over him, and leading him into many countries and
+constantly denying him the peace for which he longed. Then had come the
+climax of it all, the tragedy which had thrown over him the lowering
+cloud of a hideous danger. Failure was his. The moment of trial had
+come, and he had been unequal to it; and day and night there rang ever
+in his ears the faint far-off whisper of those tremulous lips, and the
+pleading light in those burning eyes seemed ever before him. Again he
+felt the touch of that icy cold hand, and again he remembered the words
+of the oath which, alas! he had not kept. Oh, it was horrible!</p>
+
+<p>Once more his thoughts moved on a stage, and this time they reached
+their climax. Before his fixed eyes there floated the image of a sweet,
+wistful face glowing with healthy physical life, and yet with all that
+delicate refinement of coloring and feature which had made her face
+linger in his artist's memory for years before she had dwelt in his
+man's heart. It was a torture of hell, this, that the fairest and
+sweetest part of a man's life&mdash;his love&mdash;should come to him at such a
+time. And then for one brief moment all memory of his misery passed away
+from him, and his whole being became absorbed in a luxury of
+recollection. He thought of the change which his love had wrought in
+him. What had life been before? A long series of artistic and
+philosophical abstractions, bringing their own peculiar content, but a
+content never free from disquieting thought and restless doubts. How
+could it be otherwise? Was he not human like other men? Asceticism and
+intellect, and a certain purity of life which an almost epicurean
+refinement had rendered beautiful to him, these, easily keeping in sway
+his passionate temperament through all the long years of his life, now
+only served to fan the flame of that great pure love which had suddenly
+leaped up within him, a blazing, unquenchable fire. Human emotion once
+aroused, had thrilled through all his being with a sweet, heart-stirring
+music, and his whole nature was shaking from its very foundation. To him
+such a love seemed like the rounding of his life, the panacea for all
+that vague disquiet which, even in the moments of most perfect
+intellectual serenity, had sometimes disturbed him. The love of such a
+man was no light thing. It had mingled with his heart's blood, with the
+very essence of all his being. No death, no annihilation was possible
+for it. It was a part of himself, woven unchangeably into his life in a
+glowing skein, the brilliant colors of which could never fade. He looked
+into the future, golden with the light of such a love, and he saw a
+vision of perfect happiness, of joy beyond all expression, of deep, calm
+content, surpassing anything which he had known. Hand in hand he saw two
+figures, himself and her, gliding through the years with a sort of
+effortless energy, tasting together of everything in life that was
+sweet, and pure, and beautiful; scattering all trouble and worldly
+vexation to the winds, by the touchstone of their undying love. There
+was intoxication&mdash;ethereal intoxication in such a vision. The winds blew
+against him, and the torrents of driven rain, cold and stinging, dashed
+themselves against his pale, steadfast face. Down on the beach below the
+mad sea was thundering upon the cliffs, flinging its white spray so high
+that it glittered like specks of luminous white light against the black
+waters. Yet he noticed none of it. Until the brilliancy of that vision
+which glowed before him faded, nothing external could withdraw his
+thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>And fade away it did at last, and neither the cold rain nor the howling
+wind had given him such a chill as crept through all his body, when
+memory and realization drove forth this sweet flower of his imagination.
+All the cruel hopelessness, the horror of his position, rushed in upon
+him like a foul nightmare. He saw himself shunned and despised, the
+faces of all men averted from him; all that had gone to make his life
+worthy, and even famous, forgotten in the stigma of an awful crime. He
+saw her eager, beautiful face, white and convulsed with horror,
+shrinking away from him as from some loathsome object. God! it was
+madness to think of it! Let this thought go from him, fade away from his
+reeling brain, or he would surely go mad.</p>
+
+<p>Heedless of the fury of the winds that roared over the moorland, and
+sobbed and shrieked in the pine grove, he threw himself upon his knees
+close to the very verge of the cliff, and stretched out his hands to the
+darkened heavens in a passionate gesture of despair. It was the first
+time during all the fierce troubles of a stormy life that he had shrunk
+down, beaten for the moment by the utter hopelessness of the struggle
+which seemed to him now fast drawing toward its end.</p>
+
+<p>"God! that I may die!" he moaned. "That I may die!"</p>
+
+<p>And, as though in answer to his prayer, life for him suddenly became a
+doubtful thing. A wild gust of wind had uprooted a young fir tree from
+the plantation, and bearing it with a savage glee toward the cliff side,
+dashed it against the kneeling man. There was no chance for him against
+it. Over they went, man and tree together, to all appearance bound for
+inevitable destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Even in that second, when he felt himself being hurled over the cliff,
+by what force he knew not, the consciousness of the sudden granting of
+his prayer flashed across his mind, and, strange though it may seem,
+brought with it a deep content. It was as he would have it be, death
+sudden and unfelt. But following close upon it came another thought, so
+swiftly works the brain in the time of a great crisis. He would be found
+dead, and everyone, in the light of what would soon be made known, would
+surely call it suicide. She would think so, too. Death on such terms he
+would not willingly have.</p>
+
+<p>Effort followed swiftly upon thought. He clutched wildly at the cliff
+side during the first second of that flying descent, and the wind
+bending it almost double, brought a stunted fir tree sapling within his
+reach. He grasped it, and he was saved. Only a yard or two away, the
+cliff side was black with them growing so closely together that he
+pulled himself with ease from one to another till he climbed over the
+cliff top, and stood again upright on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>His hands were bleeding, and his clothes were hanging round him in rags.
+Yet, in a certain sense, his narrow escape had done him good, for it had
+brought very vividly before him the impiety of his prayer. He had given
+way too long to maddening thoughts, and they had unnerved him. With the
+consciousness of his escape, all the manliness of his nature reasserted
+itself. He had faced this thing so long that he would face it now to the
+end. Let it come when it would, he would summon up all his strength, and
+meet it like a man. After death was peace for everlasting. God keep him
+in that faith!</p>
+
+<p>He turned away from the cliff, and walked quickly back to the cottage,
+making his plans as he went. First he changed all his clothes, and then
+opening again his rifled cabinet, he transferred the remaining papers to
+a small handbag. These were all his preparations, but when he stepped
+out again and walked down the path of his garden, a change had fallen
+upon the earth. Faint gleams of dawn were breaking through the eastern
+sky, and though the sea was still troubled and crested with white-foamed
+breakers, the wind had gone down. Compared with the violence of the
+storm a few hours back, the stillness of the gray twilight was full of a
+peculiar impressiveness. Peace after the storm. Rest after trouble.</p>
+
+<p>And something of this saddened peace crept into the heart of the
+solitary figure crossing the moorland&mdash;on his way back to face a doom
+which seemed closing in fast around him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE HAS A CALLER</h3>
+
+
+<p>Sir Allan Beaumerville, Bart., <i>dilettante</i> physician and man of
+fashion, was, on the whole, one of the most popular men in London
+society. He was rich, of distinguished appearance, had charming manners,
+and was a bachelor, which combination might possibly account in some
+measure for the high esteem in which he was held amongst the opposite
+sex. He had made his <i>d&eacute;but</i> in society quite late in life, for he had
+succeeded to the baronetcy, which was one of the oldest and richest in
+the country, unexpectedly; and, as a young man, London&mdash;fashionable
+London, at any rate&mdash;had seen or known nothing of him. Nor, indeed, had
+he at any time had much to say to anyone about the earlier period of his
+life. It was generally understood that he had lived abroad, and that he
+had been in some sort of practice, or how else could he have acquired
+his knowledge of the technical part of his profession? Beyond this,
+nothing was known; and although he was evidently a traveled man, having
+much to say at times about all the interesting parts of Southern Europe,
+no one ever remembered meeting him anywhere. For the rest, he had passed
+through none of the curriculum of English youth. No public school had
+had his name upon its books, nor had he even graduated in his own
+country. But he had taken a very high degree indeed at Heidelberg,
+which had won him considerable respect among those who knew anything
+about such matters, and his diplomas included half the letters of the
+alphabet, and were undeniable. And so when he had suddenly appeared in
+London on the death of his uncle and cousin, a middle-aged,
+distinguished gentleman, with manners a little foreign, but in their way
+perfect, society had voted him a great improvement on the former
+baronet, and had taken him by the hand at once. That was a good many
+years ago, and very soon after his first introduction to the London
+world he had become a notable figure in it. He had never missed a town
+season, and at all its chief functions was a well-known and popular
+figure, always among the best and most exclusive set, and always welcome
+there. He had a yacht at Cowes, a share in a Scotch moor, a dozen or so
+hunters at his little place near Melton, a shooting box in Derbyshire,
+and a fine old mansion and estate in Kent, where everyone liked to be
+asked; and where he had more than once had the honor of entertaining
+royalty. There was only one thing in the world wanted to make Sir Allan
+Beaumerville perfect, women declared, and that one thing was a wife. But
+although no one appeared to appreciate more highly the charms of
+feminine society&mdash;as he showed in more ways than one, both in St. John's
+Wood and in Belgravia&mdash;he had never shown the least inclination to
+perform his duty to society in this respect. How he managed to steer
+clear of the many snares and pitfalls laid for him in the course of his
+career puzzled a good many men. But he did it, and what was more
+remarkable still, he made no enemies. He had friendships among the other
+sex such as no man save he dared have indulged in to a like extent; but
+with infinite skill he always seemed to be able to drop some delicate
+insinuation as to the utter absence of any matrimonial intention on his
+part, which left no room for doubt or hope. He was, in short, possessed
+of admirable powers of diplomacy which never failed him.</p>
+
+<p>Of course his impregnability gave rise to all manner of stories. He had
+been jilted in his youth, he had a wife alive, or he had had one, and
+she was dead, none of which rumors met any large amount of credence. As
+to the first, the idea of anyone jilting Sir Allan Beaumerville, even
+before his coming into the baronetcy, found no favor in the feminine
+world. No woman could have shown such ill judgment as that; and,
+besides, he had very little of the melancholy which is generally
+supposed to attend upon such a disappointment. As to the second, it was
+never seriously entertained, for if any woman had once claimed Sir Allan
+Beaumerville as a husband, she was scarcely likely to keep away from
+him, especially now that he was occupying such a distinguished position.
+The third was quite out of the question, for even had he ever been
+married&mdash;which nobody believed&mdash;he was scarcely the sort of man to wear
+the willow all his life, and, indeed, it was very evident that he was
+not doing anything of the sort. Everyone knew of a certain little
+establishment beyond Kensington way, where Sir Allan's brougham was
+often seen, but of course no one thought the worse of him for that. And
+without a doubt, if Sir Allan had yielded to that gentle wish so often
+expressed, and commenced domestic life in a more conventional manner in
+the great house at Grosvenor Square, he would have forfeited at once a
+great deal of his popularity, at any rate among the feminine part of his
+acquaintance. As it was, there was always a faint hope of winning him to
+add a zest to his delightful companionship, and Sir Allan, who was a
+very shrewd man, was perfectly aware of this. He was a sybarite of
+refined taste, with an exquisite appreciation of the finer and more
+artistic pleasures of life; and the society of educated and well-bred
+women was one of the chief of them. Rather than run any risk of
+deterioration in its quality he preferred to let things remain as they
+were, and that he might enjoy it the more thoroughly without the
+restraint placed upon other men, was the sole reason that he had not
+altogether abandoned his profession. He never took any fee, nor did he
+ever accept any casual patient. But on certain days of the week, at
+certain hours, he was at home as a physician to certain of his lady
+acquaintances to whom he had already offered his services. The number
+was always few, for the invitations were rarely given, and the patients
+generally remained upon the sick list for an indefinite period. But
+there were few invitations more sought after. Something&mdash;perhaps the
+very slight spice of impropriety which certain prudes, who had not been
+asked, affected to see in such an arrangement&mdash;had made them the
+fashion; and, then, Sir Allan was undeniably clever. Altogether, the
+idea was a great success for him.</p>
+
+<p>It had been one of Sir Allan's afternoon receptions, and, as usual,
+every patient on his list had paid him a visit. Having seen the last and
+most favored to her carriage, Sir Allan returned to his study with a
+slight smile on his handsome face, and the recollection of some
+delightfully confidential little speeches still tingling in his ears.
+For a moment he stood on the hearth rug recalling them, then he looked
+round the room and rang the bell. A servant appeared almost
+immediately.</p>
+
+<p>"Clear these things away, Morton," Sir Allan said, pointing to some
+dainty marvels of china and a Japanese teapot, which stood on a little
+round table between two chairs, "and bring me a loose jacket from my
+room. I am dining in Downing Street to-night, and shall not want to
+dress before eight."</p>
+
+<p>The man obeyed, and Sir Allan, lighting a thick Egyptian cigarette, took
+up a French novel, and stretched himself out in his easy chair.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not at home to anyone else this afternoon, sir?" the servant
+inquired before quitting the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," Sir Allan answered, yawning. "Has anyone been inquiring
+for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Lady or gentleman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gentleman, sir&mdash;at least, I think so. He looks like one."</p>
+
+<p>"Any name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't inquire, sir. I said that you were not at home; but, as he
+seemed very pressing, I promised to try and ascertain when you would be
+at liberty."</p>
+
+<p>"Ask him his name," Sir Allan directed.</p>
+
+<p>The man withdrew, and returned in a moment or two looking a little
+puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"His name is Brown, sir&mdash;Mr. Bernard Brown."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan was seldom clumsy in little things, but at that moment he
+dropped the book which he had been reading upon the floor. The servant
+hastened toward it, but Sir Allan waved him away. He preferred to pick
+it up himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I've lost my place," he remarked, turning over the leaves.
+"You can show Mr. Brown in here, Morton," he added. "I may as well see
+what he wants."</p>
+
+<p>The man withdrew, and Sir Allan recommenced the chapter. Then the door
+was opened again, and the visitor was admitted. Sir Allan laid the paper
+knife carefully in his place, and shutting the book, rose from his
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown," he said, "I am very pleased to see you. Come and take a
+seat here."</p>
+
+<p>He stood up in an easy attitude upon the hearthrug, and pointed with a
+smile to the chair which his last visitor had occupied. But he did not
+offer his hand to Mr. Brown, nor did Mr. Brown appear to expect it.</p>
+
+<p>The apartment was in the semi-gloom of twilight, for the silver lamp
+burning on the bracket by Sir Allan's side was covered with a
+rose-colored shade, and threw all its light downward. The art treasures
+with which the room was crowded, and the almost voluptuous grace of its
+adornment and coloring, were more suggested than seen. Mr. Brown, who
+had advanced only a few steps from the closed door, covered his eyes
+with his hand, and looked a little dazed.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you live in darkness?" he said in a low tone. "I want to see your
+face."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders, and turned up the lamp a little higher
+than it was. The faces of the two men were now distinctly visible to
+each other, and the contrast between them was rather startling. Sir
+Allan's was placid, courteous, and inquiring. Mr. Brown's was white
+almost to ghastliness, and his eyes were burning with a strange light.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you'd sit down, my dear fellow!" Sir Allan remarked in a tone of
+good-natured remonstrance. "It worries me to see you standing there, and
+I'm sure you look tired enough."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown took no notice whatever of the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come to see you, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said slowly, "to
+lay certain facts before you, and to ask your advice concerning them&mdash;as
+a disinterested party."</p>
+
+<p>"Very happy, I'm sure, to do the best I can," Sir Allan murmured,
+lighting a fresh cigarette. "I wish you'd sit down to it, though. I
+suppose it's about that murder we were mixed up in? Horrid affair it
+was."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it was a very horrid affair," Mr. Brown repeated slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"They haven't caught the man yet, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"They have not&mdash;yet."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan shrugged his fine shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy their chance is a poor one now, then," he remarked, emitting a
+little cloud of smoke from his lips, and watching it curl upward in a
+faint blue wreath to the ceiling. "How differently they manage affairs
+on the Continent! Such a crime would not go undetected a day there."</p>
+
+<p>"It will not be undetected here many more days," Mr. Brown said. "My own
+belief is that a warrant is already issued for the apprehension of the
+supposed murderer, and I should not be surprised to hear that at this
+very moment the police were watching this house."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan looked hard at his guest, and elevated his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a very serious matter, Mr. Brown," he said, looking at him
+steadily in the face. "Do I understand&mdash;&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will explain," Mr. Brown interrupted quietly. "On my return to
+Falcon's Nest yesterday, I find that during my absence the cottage has
+been entered, apparently by some one in authority, for keys have been
+used. My cabinet has been forced open, and a number of my private
+letters and papers have been taken away. Certain other investigations
+have also been made, obviously with the same object."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan maintained his attitude of polite attention, but he had
+stopped smoking, and his cigarette was burning unnoticed between his
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely see the connection yet," he said suavely. "No doubt I am a
+little dense. You speak about a number of private papers having been
+abstracted from your cabinet. Do I understand&mdash;is it possible that
+anything in those papers could lead people to fix upon you as the
+murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"</p>
+
+<p>The two men looked steadily into each other's faces. There was nothing
+in Sir Allan's expression beyond a slightly shocked surprise; in Mr.
+Brown's there was a very curious mixture indeed.</p>
+
+<p>"Most certainly!" was the quiet reply. "Those letters plainly point out
+a motive for my having committed the crime."</p>
+
+<p>"They are from&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Stop!"</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan started. The word had burst from Mr. Brown's lips with a
+passion which his former quietude rendered the more remarkable. There
+was a dead silence between them for fully a minute. Then Mr. Brown,
+having resumed his former manner, spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"Those letters," he said, "tell the story of a certain episode in the
+life of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. No other person is mentioned or alluded
+to in them. Yet the fact of their having been found in my possession
+makes them strong evidence against me."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know why on earth you've come to me for advice," he remarked.
+"I'm not a lawyer."</p>
+
+<p>"Neither do I quite know. Still, I have come; and, as I am here, give it
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"In a word, then&mdash;bolt," said Sir Allan laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"That is your advice, is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see anything else to do. I don't ask you whether you are guilty
+or not, and I do ask myself whether I am doing my duty in giving you any
+advice calculated to defeat the ends of justice. I simply consider the
+facts, and tell you what I should do if I were in your unfortunate
+position. I should bolt."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Sir Allan, for your advice so far," Mr. Brown said quietly.
+"There is just one little complication, however, which I wish to tell
+you of."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Might I trouble you to put the matter in as short a form as
+possible, then?" Sir Allan remarked, looking at his watch. "I am dining
+with the Prime Minister to-night, and it is time I commenced to dress."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not detain you much longer," Mr. Brown said. "The complication,
+I fear, will scarcely interest you, for it is a sentimental one. If I
+fled from England to-night, I should leave behind me the woman I love."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why the devil don't you take her with you?" asked Sir Allan, with
+a shrug of the shoulders. "She'll go right enough if you ask her. Women
+like a little mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"The woman whom I love appears to be of a different class to those from
+whom you have drawn your experience," Mr. Brown answered quietly. "I am
+not married to her."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders lightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if she's a prude, and won't go, and you haven't pluck enough to
+run away with her, I don't know how to advise you," he remarked.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown looked steadily into the other's face. Sir Allan met his gaze
+blandly.</p>
+
+<p>"Your speech, Sir Allan, betrays a cynicism which I believe is greatly
+in fashion just now," Mr. Brown said slowly. "Sometimes it is altogether
+assumed, sometimes it is only a thin veneer adopted in obedience to the
+decree of fashion. Believing that, so far as you are concerned, the
+latter is the case, I beg you to look back into your past life, and
+recall, if possible, some of its emotions. Again I tell you that if I
+fly from England, I shall leave behind me the woman I dearly love. I
+have come to you, Sir Allan Beaumerville, with an effort. I lay all
+these facts before you, and I ask you to decide for me. What shall I
+do?"</p>
+
+<p>"And I repeat, my dear fellow," answered Sir Allan suavely, "that the
+only advice I can give you is, to leave England to-night!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown hesitated for a moment. Then he turned away toward the door
+without a word or gesture of farewell.</p>
+
+<p>"By the by," Sir Allan remarked, "one moment, Mr. Brown! Have you any
+objection to telling me the name of the lady who has been honored with
+your affection. Do I know her?"</p>
+
+<p>"You do. Her name is no concern of yours, though."</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly an unpleasant idea seemed to flash across Sir Allan's mind. He
+was more disturbed than he had been during the whole of the interview.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you don't mean that charming Miss Thurwell?" he said quickly.</p>
+
+<p>The limits of Mr. Brown's endurance seemed to have been passed. He
+turned suddenly round, his eyes blazing with passion, and walked across
+the room to within a few feet of Sir Allan. He stood there with one hand
+grasping the back of a chair, and looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>"And if I did mean her, sir, what is that to you? By what right do you
+dare to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly his upraised hand fell. Both men stood as though turned to
+stone, listening, yet scarcely daring to glance toward the door. It was
+the sound of Morton's quiet voice and the trailing of skirts which had
+checked Mr. Brown's passionate speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady and Miss Thurwell!"</p>
+
+<p>There was no time to move, scarcely time for thought. Morton stood
+respectfully at the door, and the two ladies were already on the
+threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear Sir Allan"&mdash;in Lady Thurwell's silvery voice&mdash;"what will you
+think of such a late visit? I felt ashamed to ask for you, only we have
+been at the Countess of Applecorn's in the next square, and I could
+positively not pass your door when I remembered that it was your
+afternoon. But you are all in darkness; and you have a visitor, haven't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>The figures of the two men were barely visible in the deep gloom of the
+apartment, for the lamp had burned low, and gave little light. Lady
+Thurwell had stopped just inside the room, surprised.</p>
+
+<p>If only Sir Allan's companion had been a patient! What a delightful
+piece of scandal it would have been!</p>
+
+<p>"Lady Thurwell! Ah, how good of you!" exclaimed Sir Allan, coming
+forward out of the shadow; "and you, too, Miss Helen. I am honored
+indeed. Morton, lights at once!"</p>
+
+<p>"We must not stay a moment," declared Lady Thurwell, shaking hands.
+"No, we won't sit down, thanks! You know why we've called? It's about
+the opera to-night. You got my note?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did, Lady Thurwell, and I can trustfully say that I never read one
+from you with more regret."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have an engagement?"</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately, yes! I am dining at Downing Street."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we must send for that schoolboy cousin of yours, Helen!" said
+Lady Thurwell, laughing. "You see how dependent we are upon your sex,
+after all. Why, is that really you, Mr. Maddison!" she broke off
+suddenly, as a tall figure emerged a little out of the gloom. "Fancy
+meeting you here! I had no idea that you and Sir Allan Beaumerville were
+friends. Helen, do you see Mr. Maddison?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say that I do," she answered, with a low happy laugh; "but I'm
+very glad he's here!"</p>
+
+<p>The lights were brought in as she finished her little speech, and they
+all looked at one another. Lady Thurwell broke into a little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Really, this is a singular meeting," she said, "but we mustn't stop a
+moment. Mr. Maddison, we were hoping to see you yesterday afternoon. Do
+come soon!"</p>
+
+<p>He bowed with a faint smile upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Come out to the carriage with us, please, Mr. Maddison," Helen said to
+him in a low tone as Lady Thurwell turned to go; and he walked down the
+hall between them and out on to the pavement, leaving Sir Allan on the
+steps.</p>
+
+<p>"You will come and dine with me soon, won't you, Mr. Maddison?" Lady
+Thurwell asked him, as she touched his hand stepping into the brougham.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come whenever you ask me!" he answered rashly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then come now!" said Helen quickly. "We are all alone for the evening,
+fancy that, and we can't go out anywhere because we haven't an escort.
+Do come!"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at Lady Thurwell.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be a real charity if you will," she said, smiling graciously.
+"We shall be bored to death alone."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be delighted," he answered at once. "About eight o'clock, I
+suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Half-past seven, please, and we'll have a long evening," said Helen.
+"That will give you time to get to your club and dress. Good-by!"</p>
+
+<p>They drove off, and Mr. Bernard Brown walked swiftly away toward Pall
+Mall. Once he stopped in the middle of the pavement and broke into an
+odd little laugh. It was a curious position to be in. He was expecting
+every moment to be arrested for murder, and he was going out to dine.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>"GOD FORBID IT!"</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Maddison&mdash;to drop at this point the name under which he had chosen
+to become the tenant of Falcon's Nest&mdash;was a member of a well-known
+London club, chiefly affected by literary men, and after his acceptance
+of Lady Thurwell's invitation, he hastened there at once and went to his
+room to dress. As a rule a man does not indulge in any very profound
+meditation during the somewhat tedious process of changing his morning
+clothes for the monotonous garb of Western civilization. His attention
+is generally fully claimed by the satisfactory adjusting of his tie and
+the precaution he has to use to avoid anything so lamentable as a crease
+in his shirt, and if his thoughts stray at all, it is seldom beyond the
+immediate matter of his toilet, or at most a little anticipation with
+regard to the forthcoming evening. If on the right side of thirty, a
+pair of bright eyes may sometimes make him pause for a moment, even with
+the hair brushes in his hands, to wonder if she will be there to-night,
+and if by any fortunate chance he will be able to take her in to dinner.
+And if the reign of the forties has commenced, it is just possible that
+a little mild speculation as to the <i>entr&eacute;es</i> may be admitted. But, as a
+rule, a man's thoughts do not on such an occasion strike deep beneath
+the surface, and there is no record of an author having laid the plan of
+his next work, or a soldier having marked out a campaign, while
+struggling with a refractory tie, or obstinate parting. Even if such had
+ever happened to be the case, we should not have cared to hear about it.
+We prefer to think of a Napoleon planning great conquests in the serene
+stillness of night among a sleeping camp and beneath a starlit sky, or
+of a Wordsworth writing his poetry in his cottage home among the
+mountains.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Bernard Maddison, before he left his room that evening, had come
+to a great decision&mdash;a decision which made his step the firmer, and
+which asserted itself in the carriage of his head and the increased
+brightness of his eyes, as he slowly descended the wide, luxurious
+staircase. And he felt calmer, even happier, from having at least passed
+from amid the shoals of doubt and uncertainty. The slight nervousness
+had quite left him. He was still more than ordinarily pale, and there
+was a look of calm resignation in his thoughtful &aelig;sthetic face which
+gave to its intellectuality a touch of spirituality. One of the members
+of the club said, later on in the smoking room, that Maddison seemed to
+him to realize one's idea of St. Augustine in evening clothes. So far as
+appearance went the comparison was not inapt.</p>
+
+<p>As he reached the hall the porter came up to him with his cloak.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a gentleman waiting for you in the strangers' room, sir," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maddison turned away that the man might not see the sudden dread in
+his face. It was not a long respite he craved for&mdash;only one evening. Was
+even this to be denied him?</p>
+
+<p>"Any name?" he asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"He gave none," the man answered; "but I think it is Sir Allan
+Beaumerville."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" Mr. Maddison felt a sudden relief which escaped him in that brief
+interjection. He was scarcely surprised at this visit. "I will go to
+him," he said. "Call me a hansom, Grey, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>The porter went outside, and Mr. Maddison crossed the hall and in a
+small, dimly-lit room, found himself face to face with his visitor.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan wore the brilliant uniform of a colonel in the yeomanry, for
+the dinner to which he was going was to be followed by an official
+reception. But he was very pale, and his manner had lost much of its
+studied nonchalance.</p>
+
+<p>"I followed you here," he began at once, "because, after your departure,
+I began to realize more fully the seriousness of what you told me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I thought at the time that your indifference was a little
+remarkable," Mr. Maddison said quietly. The positions between them were
+entirely reversed. It was Sir Allan Beaumerville now who was placing a
+great restraint upon himself, and Mr. Maddison who was collected and at
+his ease.</p>
+
+<p>"I was taken by surprise," Sir Allan continued. "Since you left me I
+have been picturing all manner of horrible things. Have you fully
+realized that you may be arrested at any moment on this frightful
+charge?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have fully realized it," Mr. Maddison answered calmly. "In fact, when
+the porter told me that a gentleman wished to see me, I imagined at once
+that it had come."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you considered, too," Sir Allan continued, "how overwhelming
+the evidence is against you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have considered it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why do you linger here for one moment? Why don't you escape while
+you have the chance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I?" Mr. Maddison answered. "I shall make no attempt to
+escape."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan's face grew a shade more pallid, and betrayed an agitation
+which he strove in vain to conceal.</p>
+
+<p>"But supposing you are arrested," he said quickly, "everything will go
+against you. What shall you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall accept my fate, whatever it may be," was the quiet reply. "I
+prefer this to flight. Life would not be very valuable to me as a
+skulking criminal in a foreign country. If it be declared forfeit to the
+law, the law shall have it."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden choking in Sir Allan's voice, and an almost piteous
+look in his face.</p>
+
+<p>"God forbid it!" he cried; "God forbid it!"</p>
+
+<p>And suddenly this hardened man of the world, this professed cynic in an
+age of cynicism, sank down in a chair and buried his head in his arms on
+the green baize writing table, crushing the gold lace of his glittering
+uniform, and the immaculate shirt front, with its single diamond stud.
+It was only for a moment that a sudden rush of feeling overcame him. But
+when he looked up his face was haggard and he looked years older.</p>
+
+<p>"Does anyone&mdash;know of this?" he asked in a hoarse tone.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maddison shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No one whatever as yet," he said shortly. "If I am free to-morrow, I
+shall go to Italy."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden change swept into Sir Allan's face. He rose from his chair,
+drawing himself up to his full height. Again he was the stately,
+distinguished man of the world, with little feeling in his voice or
+looks. Between him and this other man in his sober black, with wasted
+face and thin stooping frame, there was a startling difference.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no doubt that you will do your duty, Mr. Maddison," he said
+coldly; "although, if I may be forgiven for saying so, your method
+appears to me a little quixotic, and, in a certain sense, singularly
+devoid of consideration for others. I will not detain you any longer."</p>
+
+<p>He wrapped his long cloak around him and left the room in dignified
+silence. Mr. Maddison followed him to the steps, and saw him get into
+his carriage. They parted without another word.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>LOVERS</h3>
+
+
+<p>Bernard Maddison kept his engagement that evening, and dined alone with
+Lady Thurwell and Helen. There had been some talk of going to the opera
+afterwards, but no one seemed to care about it, and so it dropped
+through.</p>
+
+<p>"For my part," Lady Thurwell said, as they sat lingering over their
+dessert, "I shall quite enjoy an evening's rest. You literary men, Mr.
+Maddison, talk a good deal about being overworked, but you know nothing
+of the life of a chaperon in the season. I tell Helen that she is sadly
+wanting in gratitude. We do everything worth doing&mdash;picture galleries,
+matin&eacute;es, shopping, afternoon calls, dinners, dances, receptions&mdash;why,
+there's no slavery like it."</p>
+
+<p>Helen laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>"We do a great deal too much, aunt," she said. "I am almost coming round
+to my father's opinion. You know, Mr. Maddison, he very seldom comes to
+London, and then only when he wants to pay a visit to his gunmaker, or
+to renew his hunting kit, or something of that sort. London life does
+not suit him at all."</p>
+
+<p>"I think your father a very wise man," he answered. "He seeks his
+pleasures in a more wholesome manner."</p>
+
+<p>She looked thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose, ethically, the life of a man about town is on a very
+low level. That is why one meets so few who interest one, as a rule.
+Don't you think all this society life very frivolous, Mr. Maddison?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not willing to be its judge," he answered. "Yet it is a moral
+axiom that the higher we seek for our pleasures the greater happiness we
+attain to. I am an uncompromising enemy to what is known as fashionable
+society, so I will draw no conclusions."</p>
+
+<p>"It is intellect and artistic sensibility <i>versus</i> sensuousness," yawned
+Lady Thurwell. "I'm a weak woman, and I'm afraid I'm too old to change
+my ways. But I'm on the wrong side of the argument all the same; at
+least, I should be if I took up the cudgels."</p>
+
+<p>"Which are the greater sinners, Mr. Maddison?" asked Helen, smiling,
+"men of the world or women of the world?"</p>
+
+<p>"Without doubt, men," he answered quickly. "However we may talk about
+the equality of the sexes, the fact remains that women are born into the
+world with lighter natures than men. They have at once a greater
+capacity, and more desire for amusement pure and simple. They wear
+themselves out in search of it, more especially the women of other
+nations. And after all, when their life has passed, they have never
+known the meaning of real happiness, of the pleasures that have no
+reaction, and that sweet elevation of mind that is only won by thought
+and study."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor women!" murmured Lady Thurwell. "Mr. Maddison, you are making me
+quite uncomfortable. Paint my sex in more glowing colors, please, or
+leave them alone. Remember that I am the only middle-aged woman here. I
+don't count Helen at all. I see that she is something of your way of
+thinking already. Traitress! Do light a cigarette, Mr. Maddison. I adore
+the perfume of them, and so does Helen."</p>
+
+<p>He took one from the box she passed him, and gravely lit it. They were
+doing everything in a very informal manner. Dinner had been served in
+the library, a cozy little apartment with a large open grate in which a
+cheerful fire had been lit. The ordinary table had been dispensed with
+in favor of a small round one just large enough for them, and now, with
+dessert on the table, they had turned their chairs round to the fire in
+very homelike fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, I like this," Helen said softly. "I think it is so much
+better than a dinner party, or going out anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"See what a difference the presence of a distinguished man of letters
+makes," laughed Lady Thurwell. "Now, only a few hours ago, we were
+dreading a very dull evening&mdash;Helen as well as myself. How nice it was
+of you to take pity on us, Mr. Maddison!"</p>
+
+<p>"Especially considering your aversion to our society," put in Helen.
+"Are not you really thinking it a shocking waste of time to be here
+talking to two very unlearned women instead of seeking inspiration in
+your study?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing of Lady Thurwell's tastes," he said; "but you can
+scarcely call yourself unlearned. You have read much, and you have
+thought."</p>
+
+<p>"A pure accident&mdash;I mean the thinking," she answered lightly. "If I had
+not been a country girl, with a mind above my station, intellectually,
+there's no telling what might have happened. Town life is very
+distracting, if you once get into the groove. Isn't it, aunt?"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Thurwell, who was a thorough little <i>dame de soci&eacute;t&eacute;</i>, rose with a
+pout and shrugged her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to be hauled over the coals by you superior people any
+longer," she answered. "I shall leave you to form a mutual improvement
+society, and go and write some letters. When you want me, come into the
+drawing room, but don't come yet. Thank you, Mr. Maddison," she added,
+as he held the door open for her; "be merciful to the absent, won't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>And so they were alone! As he closed the door and walked across the room
+to his seat, there came back to him, with a faint bewildering sweetness,
+something of the passionate emotion of their farewell in the pine grove
+on the cliff. He felt his pulses quicken, and his heart beat fast. It
+was in vain that the dying tenets of his old life, a life of
+renunciation and solitude, feebly reasserted themselves. At that moment,
+if never before, he knew the truth. The warm fresh sunlight lay across
+his barren life, brightening with a marvelous glow its gloomiest
+corners. The old passionless serenity, in which the human had been
+crushed out by the intellectual, was gone forever. He loved this woman.</p>
+
+<p>And she was very fair. He stole a long glance at her as she leaned back
+in her low wicker chair&mdash;the fond glance of a lover&mdash;and he felt his
+keenly artistic sense stirred from its very depths by her purely
+physical beauty. The firelight was casting strange gleams upon the deep
+golden hair which waved about her oval face and shapely forehead in
+picturesque unrestraint, and there was an ethereal glow in her exquisite
+complexion, a light in her eyes, which seemed called up by some unusual
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>The setting of the picture, too, was perfect. Her ivory satin gown hung
+in long straight lines about her slim perfect outline with all the grace
+of Greek drapery, unrelieved save by one large bunch of Neapolitan
+violets nestling amongst the folds of old lace which filled up the open
+space of her bodice. He stood and looked at her with a strange confusion
+of feelings. A new life was burning in his veins, and for the first time
+since his boyhood he doubted his absolute self-mastery. Dared he stay
+there? Could he sit by her side, and bandy idle words with her?</p>
+
+<p>The silence had lasted for several minutes, and was beginning to possess
+something of that peculiar eloquence which such silences usually have.
+At last she raised her eyes, and looked at him standing motionless and
+thoughtful amongst the shadows of the room, and at the first glance he
+felt his strength grow weak, and his passionate love rising up like a
+living force. For there was in her eyes, and in her face, and in her
+voice when she spoke, something of that softening change which
+transfuses a woman's being when she loves, and lets the secret go from
+her&mdash;a sort of mute yielding, an abandonment, having in it a subtle
+essence of unconscious invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and talk to me," she said softly. "Why do you stand out there?"</p>
+
+<p>He made one last despairing effort. With a strangely unnatural laugh, he
+drew a chair to her side and began to talk rapidly, never once letting
+his eyes rest upon her loveliness, striving to keep his thoughts fixed
+upon his subject, but all the time acutely conscious of her presence. He
+talked of many things with a restless energy which more than once caused
+her to look up at him in wonderment. He strove even to keep her from
+answering him, lest the magic of her voice should turn the trembling
+scale. For her sake he unlocked the inmost recesses of his mind, and all
+the rich store of artistic sensations, of jealously preserved memories,
+came flooding out, clothed with all that eloquence of jeweled phrase and
+daintily turned sentence which had made his writings so famous. For her
+sake, too, he sent his imagination traveling through almost untrodden
+fields, bringing back exquisite word pictures, and lifting the curtain
+before many a landscape of sun-smitten thought. All the music of sweet
+imagery and pure bracing idealism thrilled through her whole being. This
+was indeed a man to love! And as his speech grew slower, and she heard
+again that peculiar trembling in his tone, the meaning of which her
+woman's heart so easily interpreted, she began to long for those few
+words from him which she felt would be the awakening of a new life in
+her. He could not fail to notice even that slight change, and wondering
+whether her attention was commencing to flag, he paused and their eyes
+met in a gaze full of that deep tragical intensity which marks the birth
+between man and woman of any new sensation. The fire which glowed in his
+eyes told her of his love as plainly as the dreamy yet expressive light
+which gleamed in hers spoke also to him, and when her head drooped
+before the gathering passion in his face, and the faint color streamed
+into her cheeks, no will of his could keep the words back any longer. He
+felt his breath come quickly, and his heart almost stop beating. His
+pulses were quickening, and a strange new delight stole through him.
+Surely this was the end. He could bear no more.</p>
+
+<p>And it seemed as though it were indeed so, for with a sudden impulse he
+caught hold of her white, ringless hand, and drew it gently toward him.
+There was a slight instinctive resistance which came and went in a
+space of time only a thought could measure. Then she yielded it to him,
+and the sense of her touch stole through his veins with a sort of dreamy
+fascination, to give place in a moment to the overmastering fire of his
+great passion.</p>
+
+<p>Her face was turned away from him, but he saw the faint color deepen in
+her cheeks and the light quivering of the lip. And then a torrent of
+feeling, before which his last shaking barriers of resistance crumbled
+away like dust, swept from his heart, striking every chord of his nature
+with a crash of wild music.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen, my love, my love!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>And she turned round, her eyes dim with trembling tears, yet glowing
+with a great happiness&mdash;turned around to feel his arms steal around her
+and hold her clasped to his heart in a mad sweet embrace. And it seemed
+to her that it was for this that she had lived.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>A WOMAN'S LOVE</h3>
+
+
+<p>It seemed to him in those few golden moments of his life that memory
+died away and time stood still. The past with its hideous sorrows, and
+the future over which it stretched its chilling hand, were merged in the
+present. Life had neither background nor prospect. The overpowering
+realization of the elysium into which he had stepped had absorbed all
+sense and all knowledge. They were together, and words were passing
+between them which would live to eternity in his heart.</p>
+
+<p>But the fairest summer sky will not be fair forever. Clouds will gather,
+and drive before them the sweetness and joy from the smiling heavens,
+and memory is a mistress who may slumber but who never sleeps. Those
+moments of entrancing happiness, although in one sense they lasted a
+lifetime, were in the ordinary measure of time but of brief duration.
+For with something of the overmastering suddenness with which his
+passion had found expression, there swept back into his heart all the
+still cold flow of icy reminiscence. She felt his arms loosen around
+her, and she raised her head, wondering, from his shoulder, wonder that
+turned soon to fear, for he rose up and stood before her white, and with
+a great agony in his dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been mad!" he muttered hoarsely. "Forgive me! I must go!"</p>
+
+<p>She stood up by his side, pale, but with no fear or weakness in her
+look. She, too, had begun to realize.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me one thing," she said softly. "You do&mdash;love me!"</p>
+
+<p>"God knows I do!" he answered. The words came from his heart with a
+nervous intensity which showed itself in his quivering lips, and the
+vibration of his tone. She knew their truth as surely as though she had
+seen them written in letters of fire, and that knowledge, or rather her
+absolute confidence in it, made her in a measure bold. The dainty
+exclusiveness which had half repelled, half attracted other men had
+fallen away from her. She stood before him a loving tearful woman, with
+something of that gentle shame which is twin sister to modesty burning
+in her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will not let you go," she said softly, taking both his hands in
+hers, and holding him tightly. "Nothing shall come between us."</p>
+
+<p>He looked into the love light which gleamed in her wet eyes, and
+stooping down he took her again into his arms and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"My darling!" he whispered passionately, "my darling! But you do not
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do," she answered, drawing him gently back to their old place.
+"You mean about what Rachel Kynaston said that awful night, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"More than that, alas!" he answered in a low tone. "Other people besides
+Rachel Kynaston have had suspicions about me. I have been watched, and
+while I was away, Falcon's Nest has been entered, and papers have been
+taken away."</p>
+
+<p>She was white with fear. This was Benjamin Levy's doing, and it was
+through her. Ought she to tell him? She could not! She could not!</p>
+
+<p>"But they do not&mdash;the papers, I mean&mdash;make it appear that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Helen," he interrupted, with his face turned away from her, "it is best
+that you should know the truth. Those papers reveal the story of a
+bitter enmity between myself and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. When you
+consider that and the other things, you will see that I may at any
+moment be arrested."</p>
+
+<p>A spasm of pain passed across her face. At that moment her thoughts were
+only concerned with his safety. The terrible suggestiveness of what he
+had told her had very little real meaning for her then. Her one thought
+was, could she buy those papers? If all her fortune could do it, it
+should be given. Only let him never know, and let him be safe!</p>
+
+<p>"Bernard," she whispered softly, "I am not afraid. It is very terrible,
+but it cannot alter anything. Love cannot come and go at our bidding. It
+is forever. Nothing can change that."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped her lips with passionate kisses, and then he tried to tear
+himself away. But she would not let him go. A touch of that complete
+self-surrender which comes even to the proudest woman when she loves had
+made her bold.</p>
+
+<p>"Have I not told you, Bernard," she whispered, "that I will not let you
+go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Helen, you must," he said hoarsely. "Who knows but that to-morrow I may
+stand in the dock, charged with that hideous crime?"</p>
+
+<p>"If they will let me, I shall gladly stand by your side," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>He turned away, and his shaking fingers hid his face from her.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, this is too much for a man to bear!" he moaned. "Helen, Helen,
+there must be nothing of this between you and me."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing between you and me!" she repeated with a ring of gentle scorn
+in her voice. "Bernard, do you know so little of women, after all? Do
+you think that they can play at love in this give-and-take fashion?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not answer. She stood up and passed one of her arms around his
+neck, and with the other hand gently disengaged his fingers from before
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Bernard, dearest, look at me. All things can be changed by fashion or
+expediency save a woman's love, and that is eternal. Don't think,
+please, of any of these terrible things that may be in store for us, or
+what other people would think or say. I want you to remember that love,
+even though it be personal love, is far above all circumstance. No power
+in this world can alter or change it. It belongs to that better part of
+ourselves which lifts us above all misfortune and trouble. You have
+given me a great happiness, Bernard, and you shall not take it away from
+me. Whatever happens to you, it is my right to share it. Remember, for
+the future, it is 'we,' not 'I.' You must not think of yourself alone in
+anything, for I belong now to everything that concerns you."</p>
+
+<p>And so it was that for the first time in his life Bernard Maddison, who
+had written much concerning them, much that was both faithful and
+beautiful, saw into the inner life of a true woman. Only for the man
+whom she loves will she thus lift the curtain from before that sweet
+depth of unselfishness which makes even the homeliest of her sex one of
+the most beautiful of God's creations; and he, if he be in any way a man
+of human sensibility and capacity, must feel something of that wondering
+awe, that reverence with which Bernard Maddison drank in the meaning of
+her words. The mute anxiety of her tearful gaze, the color which came
+and fled from her face&mdash;he understood all these signs. They were to him
+the physical, the material covering for her appeal. A life of grand
+thoughts, of ever-climbing ideas, of pure and lofty aims, had revealed
+to him nothing so noble and yet so sweetly human as this; had filled his
+being with no such heart-shattering emotion as swept through him at that
+moment. A woman's hand had lifted him out from his despair into a higher
+state, and there was a great humility in the silent gesture with which
+he yielded his will to hers.</p>
+
+<p>And then again there were spoken words between them which no chronicles
+should report, and a certain calm happiness took up its settled place in
+his heart, defiant of that despair which could not be driven out. Then
+came that reawakening to mundane things which seems like a very great
+step indeed in such cases. She looked at the clock, and gave a little
+start.</p>
+
+<p>"Bernard, it is nearly eleven o'clock," she cried. "We must go into the
+drawing-room at once. What will aunt think of us? You must come with me,
+of course; but you'd better say good night now. There, that will do,
+sir!"</p>
+
+<p>She drew away and smoothed her ruffled hair back from her forehead,
+looking ruefully in the glass at her tear-stained cheeks, and down at
+the crushed violets in her corsage.</p>
+
+<p>"May I have them?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She drew them out and placed them in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow&mdash;&mdash;" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow I must go into the land of violets," he interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>She turned round quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean? You are not going away without my permission, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then I must seek it," he answered, smiling. "You have given life such
+an exquisite sweetness for me, that I am making plans already to
+preserve it. My one hope lies in Italy."</p>
+
+<p>"How long should you be away?" she asked anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a week," he answered. "If I am permitted to leave England, which I
+fear is doubtful, to-morrow, I can be back perhaps in five days."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you may go, Bernard," she whispered. "Take this with you, and
+think of me sometimes."</p>
+
+<p>She had drawn out a photograph of herself from a folding case on the
+mantelpiece, and he took it from her eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing in the world could be so precious to me," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"For a novice you say some very nice things," she answered, laughing
+softly. "And now you must go, sir. No, you needn't come into the
+drawing-room; I really couldn't show myself with you. I'll make your
+excuses to my aunt. Farewell&mdash;love!"</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell&mdash;sweetheart!" he answered, hesitating for a moment over the
+words which seemed so strange to him. Then, as though loth to leave him,
+she walked down the hall by his side, and they looked out for a moment
+into the square. A footman was standing prepared to open the door, but
+Helen sent him away with a message to her maid.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know why I did that?" she asked, her clasp tightening upon his
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head, and looked down at her fondly.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't imagine, unless&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She glanced half fearfully behind and then up into his face again, with
+a faint blush stealing into her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"I want one more kiss, please."</p>
+
+<p>He looked into her soft trustful face, and he felt, with a sense almost
+of awe, the preciousness of such a love as this, a love which,
+comprehending the terrible period of anxiety through which he had to
+pass, was not ashamed to seek to sweeten it for him by the simple charm
+of such an offering. Then, at the sound of returning footsteps in the
+hall, he let go her hands, and with her fond farewell still lingering in
+his ears, he hurried out into the street.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. LEVY, JUNIOR, GOES ON THE CONTINENT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin Levy was standing in his favorite position before the
+office fireplace, with his legs a little apart, and his small keen eyes
+fixed upon vacancy. It was thus, in that very pose, and on that very
+hearthrug, that he had thought out more than one of those deep-laid
+schemes which had brought a certain measure of notoriety to the firm of
+which he was a shining light, and at that very moment he was engaged in
+deep consideration concerning the case in which his energies were at
+present absorbed.</p>
+
+<p>A few feet away, his father was carefully calculating, with the aid of a
+ready reckoner, the compound interest on a little pile of bills of
+exchange which lay before him. Every now and then he paused, and,
+looking up from his task, glanced cautiously into his son's perplexed
+face. Curiosity at length culminated in speech.</p>
+
+<p>"What was you thinking, Benjamin, my son?" he said softly. "The Miss
+Thurwell case is plain before us, is it not? There is nothing fresh, is
+there? No fresh business, eh, my son?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin started, and abandoned his reflections.</p>
+
+<p>"No; nothing fresh, dad. It was the Thurwell affair I was thinking of.
+Give me the keys, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy leaned back in his chair and produced from his trousers pocket
+a jingling bunch of keys.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin took them in thoughtful silence, and, opening the safe,
+drew out a packet of faded letters tied up with ribbon. From these he
+selected one, and carefully replaced the rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Those letters again," remarked his fond parent, chuckling. "Take care
+of them, Benjamin, take care of them. They was worth their weight in
+gold to us."</p>
+
+<p>"They're worth a great deal more than that," remarked Mr. Benjamin
+carelessly. "There's only one thing, dad, that puzzles me a bit."</p>
+
+<p>"It must be a rum thing, my boy, that does that," his fond parent
+remarked admiringly. "I never praise undeservedly, but I must say this,
+Benjamin, you've managed this Thurwell affair marvelously&mdash;marvelously!
+Come, let me see what it is that is too deep for you."</p>
+
+<p>He rose and looked over his son's shoulder at the letter which he was
+reading&mdash;one thin sheet of foreign note paper, covered with closely
+written lines of faint, angular writing, and emitting even now a
+delicate musky scent.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Benjamin&mdash;what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>His son laid his finger on a sentence toward the close of the letter,
+and read it aloud:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"What that fear has been to me, and what it has grown into during my
+sad lonely life, I cannot hope to make you understand. Always those
+terrible words of vengeance ring in my ears as I heard them last.
+They seem to roll over sea and land, and in the middle of the night,
+and out in the sunlit street, I seem to hear them still. It is not
+you I fear, Bernard, so much as him!"</p></div>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy listened, and nodded approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>"All is plain there, Benjamin, I think. The meaning is quite clear."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin laid his finger upon the last sentence.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you make of that, dad?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy adjusted his spectacles and read it slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"'It is not for you I fear, Bernard, so much as him.' Tut, tut, that's
+simple enough," he declared. "This woman, whoever she may be, is afraid
+of a meeting between Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and Mr. Bernard Maddison, to
+give him his right name, and she remarks that it is for him she fears,
+and not for Sir Geoffrey. Quite right, too, considering the affectionate
+tone of these letters."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose that's it," Mr. Benjamin remarked in an absent tone,
+folding up the letter, and putting it back amongst the rest.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy watched him narrowly, and returned to his desk with a sense of
+injury. His son&mdash;his Benjamin&mdash;had discovered something which he was not
+going to confide to the parental ear. It was a blow.</p>
+
+<p>He was wondering whether it might have the desired effect if he were to
+produce a scrap of old yellow pocket handkerchief, and affect to be
+overcome, when they heard a hurried footstep outside. Both looked up
+anxiously. There was a quick knocking at the door, and a shabby-looking
+man dressed in black entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Leekson, what news?" Mr. Benjamin asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"He's off," was the prompt reply. "Continent. Afternoon train. Waterloo,
+three o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin's eyes sparkled.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Job's over, Leekson. Get me a
+cab, and go to the office for your money."</p>
+
+<p>"You're going to let him go!" cried Mr. Levy piteously.</p>
+
+<p>"Not I. I'm going with him, dad. A fifty-pound note from the safe,
+quick."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy gave it to him with trembling fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, dad, listen to me," Benjamin said earnestly, reaching down his
+overcoat from the peg. "Miss Thurwell will be here some time to-day, I'm
+certain, to try and buy those letters. I've changed my mind about them.
+Sell."</p>
+
+<p>"Sell," repeated Mr. Levy, surprised. "I thought that that was what we
+were not to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, never mind. I'm playing a better game than that now,"
+continued Mr. Benjamin. "I'll leave it to you to make the bargain.
+There's no one can beat you at that, you know, dad."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy acknowledged his son's compliment with a gratified smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, Benjamin, we'll say nothing about that. I'll do my best,
+you may be sure," he declared fervently.</p>
+
+<p>"I may as well just mention that I have ascertained how much money she
+has got," Mr. Benjamin went on. "She's worth, until her father dies,
+about fifteen thousand pounds. We won't be hard on her. Suppose we say
+five thousand the lowest, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Benjamin, all right," the old man murmured, rubbing his
+hands softly together. "Five thousand pounds! My eye! And how long shall
+you be away?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't quite tell, dad. Just keep your pecker up, and stick to the
+biz."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ben, yes. And of course you can't stop to tell me about it now,
+but won't this five thousand pounds from the young lady about put an end
+to this little game, eh? And, if so, need you go following this Mr.
+Maddison all over the country, eh? An expensive journey, Ben. You've got
+that fifty-pound note, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin laughed contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll never make a pile, you won't, dad," he exclaimed. "You're so
+plaguedly narrow minded. Listen here," he added, drawing a little closer
+to him, and looking round over his shoulder to be sure that no one was
+listening to him. "When I come back, I'll make you open your eyes. You
+think this thing played out, do you? Bah! The letters aren't worth
+twopence to us. When I come back from abroad, I'm going to commence to
+play this game in a manner that'll rather astonish you, and a certain
+other person. Ta-ta, guv'nor."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin Levy was a smart young man, but he had a narrow escape that
+afternoon, for as he was sauntering up and down the platform at
+Waterloo, whom should he see within a dozen yards of him but Mr.
+Maddison and Miss Thurwell. He had just time to jump into a third-class
+carriage, and spread a paper out before his face, before they were upon
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Jove, that was a shave!" he muttered to himself. "Blest if I thought
+they were as thick as that. I wonder if she's going with him. No,
+there's no female luggage, and that's her maid hanging about behind
+there. Moses, ain't she a slap-up girl, and ain't they just spooney!
+D&mdash;d if he ain't kissed her!" he wound up as the train glided out of the
+station, leaving Helen Thurwell on the platform waving her handkerchief.
+"Well, we're off. So far, so good. I feel like winning."</p>
+
+<p>But, unfortunately for Mr. Benjamin, there was a third person in that
+train whom neither he nor Mr. Maddison knew of, who was very much
+interested in the latter. Had he only mentioned his name, or referred in
+the slightest possible way to his business abroad before Mr. Benjamin,
+that young gentleman would have promptly abandoned his expedition and
+returned to town. But, as he did not, all three traveled on together in
+a happy state of ignorance concerning each other; and Mr. Benjamin Levy
+was very near experiencing the greatest disappointment of his life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>HELEN DECIDES TO GO HOME</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin Levy's surmise had been an accurate one. Late in the
+afternoon of that day, Helen Thurwell called at the little office off
+the Strand, and when she left it an hour later, she had in her pocket a
+packet of letters, and Mr. Levy had in his safe a check and promissory
+note for five thousand pounds. Both were very well satisfied&mdash;Mr. Levy
+with his money, and Helen with the consciousness that she had saved her
+lover from the consequences of what she now regarded as her great folly.</p>
+
+<p>She was to have dined out that evening with her aunt, but when the time
+to dress came, she pleaded a violent headache, and persuaded Lady
+Thurwell, who was a good-natured little woman, to take an excuse.</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear Helen, you don't look one bit ill," she had ventured to
+protest, "and the Cullhamptons are such nice people. Are you sure that
+you won't come?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, aunt," she had begged, "I really do want to stay at home
+this evening;" and Lady Thurwell had not been able to withstand her
+niece's imploring tone, so she had gone alone.</p>
+
+<p>Helen spent the evening as she had planned to. She took her work down
+into the room where they had been the night before, and where this
+wonderful thing had happened to her. Then she leaned back in her low
+chair&mdash;the same chair&mdash;and gave herself up to the luxury of thought; and
+when a young woman does that she is very far gone indeed. It was all so
+strange to her, so bewildering, that she needed time to realize it.</p>
+
+<p>And as she sat there, her eyes, full of a soft dreamy light, fixed upon
+vacancy, and her lips parted in a happy smile, she felt a sudden longing
+to be back again upon the moorland cliffs round Thurwell Court, out in
+the open country with her thoughts. This town season with its monotonous
+round of gayety was nothing to her now. More than ever, in the enlarged
+and sweeter life which seemed opening up before her, she saw the
+littleness and enervating insipidity of it all. She would go down home,
+and take some books&mdash;the books he was fond of&mdash;and sit out on the cliffs
+by the sea and read and dream, and think over all he had said to her,
+and look forward to his coming; it should be there he would find her.
+They two alone would stand together under the blue sky, and wander about
+in the sunshine over the blossoming moors. Would not this be better than
+meeting him again in a crowded London drawing-room? She knew that he
+would like it best.</p>
+
+<p>So when Lady Thurwell returned from her party, and was sitting in her
+room in a very becoming dressing gown, yawning and thinking over the
+events of the evening, there was a little tap at the door, and Helen
+entered, similarly attired.</p>
+
+<p>"Please tell me all about it," she begged, drawing up a chair to the
+fire. "My headache is quite gone."</p>
+
+<p>"So I should imagine," remarked Lady Thurwell. "I never saw you look
+better. What have you been doing to yourself, child? You look like
+Aphrodite 'new bathed in Paphian wells.'"</p>
+
+<p>"If you mean to insinuate that I've had a bath," laughed Helen, "I admit
+it. Now, tell me all about this evening."</p>
+
+<p>Which of course Lady Thurwell did, and found a good deal to say about
+the dresses and the menu.</p>
+
+<p>"By the bye," she wound up, with a curious look at her niece, "Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was there, and seemed a good deal disappointed at the
+absence of a certain young lady."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!" answered Helen. "That was very nice of him. And now, aunt, do
+you know what I came in to say to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Lady Thurwell shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't any idea, Helen. Has anyone been making love to you?"</p>
+
+<p>Helen shook her head, but the color gathered in her cheeks, and she took
+up a screen, as though to protect her face from the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go home, aunt. Don't look so startled, please. I heard from
+papa this morning, and he's not very well, and Lord Thurwell comes back
+to-morrow, so you won't be lonely, and I've really quite made my mind
+up. Town is very nice, but I like the country best."</p>
+
+<p>"Like the country best in May!" Lady Thurwell gasped. "My dear child,
+have you taken leave of your senses?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite, aunt," Helen answered, smiling. "Only it is as I say. I like
+the country best, and I would really rather go home."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Thurwell considered for a full minute. Being a very juvenile
+matron, she had by no means enjoyed her <i>r&ocirc;le</i> as chaperon to an
+acknowledged beauty. She had offered it purely out of good nature, and
+because, although only related by marriage&mdash;Lord Thurwell was the elder
+brother of Mr. Thurwell, of Thurwell Court, and the head of the
+family&mdash;still there was no one else to perform such a service for Helen.
+But if Helen did really not care for it, and wished to return to her
+country life, why there was no necessity for her to make a martyr of
+herself any longer.</p>
+
+<p>"You really mean this, Helen?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do indeed, aunt."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is settled. Make your own arrangements. I have liked having
+you, child, and whenever you choose to come to me again you will be
+welcome. But of course, it is not everyone who cares for town life, and
+if you do not, you are quite right to detach yourself from it. I'm
+afraid I know several young men who'll take your sudden flight very much
+to heart; and one who isn't particularly young."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" laughed her niece. "There'll be no mourning on my account."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall see," remarked Lady Thurwell, sententiously. "If one person
+does not find his way down to Thurwell Court after you before long, I
+shall be surprised."</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't let anyone do anything so stupid, aunt," pleaded Helen
+with sudden warmth. "It would be&mdash;no good."</p>
+
+<p>Lady Thurwell lifted her eyebrows, and looked at her niece with a
+curious little smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it?" she asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>But Helen only laughed. Her secret was too precious to part with&mdash;yet.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. THURWELL MAKES SOME INQUIRIES</h3>
+
+
+<p>And so Helen had her own way, and went back to her home on the moors,
+where Mr. Thurwell, who had just finished his hunting season, was very
+glad to see her, although not a little surprised. But she told him no
+more than she had told her aunt, that she had no taste for London life.
+The time would soon come when he would know the whole truth, but until
+her lover's return the secret was her own.</p>
+
+<p>She had one hasty note from him, posted in Paris on his way to Italy,
+and though there were only a few lines in it, she treasured up the
+little scrap of paper very tenderly, for, such as it was, it was her
+first love letter. He had given her an address in the small town to
+which he was bound, and she noticed, with a slight wonder at the
+coincidence, that it was the same place where he had first seen her. She
+had written to him, and now there had come a pause. She had nothing to
+do but to wait.</p>
+
+<p>But though such waiting is at best but a tedious matter, those few days
+brought their own peculiar happiness to her. She would have found it
+impossible to have confided her secret to any human being; she had no
+bosom friend to whom she could go for sympathy. But her healthy,
+open-air life, her long solitary walks, and a certain vein of poetry
+which she undoubtedly possessed, had given her some of that passionate,
+almost personal, love of nature which is sweeter by far than any human
+friendship. For her those long stretches of wild moorland, with the dark
+silent tarns and far-distant line of blue hills, the high cliffs where
+the sea wind roared with all the bluster and fury of a late March, the
+sea itself with its ever-changing face, the faint streaks of brilliant
+color in the evening sky, or the wan glare of a stormy morning&mdash;all
+these things had their own peculiar meaning to her, and awoke always
+some echo of response in her heart. And it chanced that at that time all
+the sweet breezy freshness of a late spring was making glad the country
+which she loved, and the perfect sympathy of the season with her own
+happiness seemed to her very sweet, for it was springtime too in her
+heart. A new life glowed in her veins, and sometimes it seemed to her
+that she could see the vista of her whole future bathed in the warm
+sunlight of a new-born happiness. The murmuring pine groves, the gay
+reveling of the birds, the budding flowers and heath&mdash;all these things
+appealed to her with a strange sympathetic force. So she took long
+walks, and came home with sparkling eyes, and her cheeks full of a rich
+color, till her father wondered what had come to his proud silent
+daughter to give this new buoyancy to her frame, and added physical
+beauty to her face, which had once seemed to him a little too
+<i>spirituelle</i> and ethereal.</p>
+
+<p>Once more Helen and her father sat at breakfast out on the sheltered
+balcony of Thurwell Court. Below them the gardens, still slightly coated
+with the early morning dew, were bathed in the glittering sunshine, and
+in the distance, and over the tops of the trees in the park, a slight
+feathery mist was curling upward. The sweet, fresh air, still a little
+keen, was buoyant with all the joyous exhilaration of spring, and
+nature, free at last from the saddened grip of winter, was reasserting
+itself in one glad triumphant chorus. Down in the park the slumberous
+cawing of the rooks triumphed over the lighter-voiced caroling of
+innumerable thrushes and blackbirds, and mingled with the faint humming
+of a few early bees, seemed to fill the air with a sweetly blended
+strain of glad music. It was one of those mornings typical of its own
+season, in which the whole atmosphere seems charged with quickening
+life. Summer with its warm luscious glow, and autumn with its clear calm
+repose, have their own special charms. But a spring morning, coming
+after the deep sadness of a hard winter, gains much by the contrast.
+There is overflowing energy and passionate joy in its newly beating
+pulses, the warm delight of reawakening life, happy to find the earth so
+fair a place, which the staider charms of a more developed season
+altogether lack.</p>
+
+<p>It was in some measure owing to this influence, and also to the fact
+that she held in her hand a letter from her lover, which her father had
+handed her without remark, but with a somewhat curious glance, that
+Helen was feeling very happy that morning. The last year had dealt
+strangely with her. Tragedy had thrown its startling, gloomy shadow
+across her life, and had left traces which could never be altogether
+wiped out. Anxieties of another sort had come, perplexities and strange
+unhappy doubts, although these last had burned with a fitful, uncertain
+flame and now seemed stilled for ever. But triumphing over all these was
+this new-born love, the great deep joy of a woman's life, so vast, so
+sweet and beautiful, that it transfuses her whole being, and seems to
+lift her into another world.</p>
+
+<p>And so Helen, leaning back in her chair, with her eyes wandering idly
+over the pleasant gardens and park below, to where, through a deep gap
+in the trees, was just visible a faint blue line of sea, was wrapped up
+very much in her own thoughts, and scarcely doing her duty toward
+entertaining her father. Indeed, she seemed almost unconscious of his
+presence until he looked up suddenly from a letter he was reading and
+asked her a question.</p>
+
+<p>"By the bye, Helen," he said, "I've meant to ask you something every day
+since you've been home, but I have always forgotten it. Who was that
+young man who came down here to help Johnson with the auditing, and who
+went away so suddenly? A <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;</i> of yours, I suppose, as he came here
+on your recommendation?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I was interested in him," she answered, looking steadily away, and
+with a faint color in her cheeks. "Why do you ask? Did he not do his
+work properly?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, he did his work very well, I believe," Mr. Thurwell said
+impatiently. "It was what he did after working hours, and which has just
+come to my notice, which makes me ask you. It seems he spent the whole
+of his spare time making covert, but I must say ingenious, inquiries
+respecting Sir Geoffrey's murder, and I am also given to understand that
+he paid Falcon's Nest an uninvited visit in the middle of the night.
+What does it all mean? Was it merely curiosity, or had he any object in
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think&mdash;he had an object," she answered slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!" Mr. Thurwell raised his eyebrows and waited for an
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>"You remember, papa, that awful scene here when Rachel Kynaston died,
+and what her last words to me were?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember perfectly," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at that time I could not help having just a suspicion that Mr.
+Brown must be mixed up in it in some way, and it seemed to me that I
+should not be quite at ease if I let matters go on without doing
+anything, so I&mdash;well, this young man came down here to see whether he
+could find out anything."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell seldom frowned at his daughter, of whom he was secretly a
+little afraid, but he did so now. He was seriously angry.</p>
+
+<p>"It was not a matter for you to have concerned yourself in at all," he
+said, rising from his seat. "At least, I should have been consulted."</p>
+
+<p>"It was all very foolish, I know," she admitted humbly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was worse than foolish; it was wrong and undutiful," he declared. "I
+am astonished that my daughter should have mixed herself up with such
+underhand work. And may I ask why I was kept in ignorance?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because you would not have allowed me to do what I did," she said
+quietly, with downcast eyes. "I thought it was my duty. I have been
+punished&mdash;punished severely."</p>
+
+<p>He softened a little, and resumed his seat. She was certainly very
+contrite. He was silent for a moment or two, and then asked her a
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"Did this young man&mdash;detective, I suppose he was&mdash;find out anything
+about Mr. Brown?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked up, a little surprised at the curiosity in his tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, papa, it was I who found out how stupid I had been," she said.
+"When I discovered that our mysterious tenant was Bernard Maddison, of
+course I saw the absurdity of suspecting him at once."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell moved a little uneasily in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"He did not find out anything, then?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent. She had not expected this, and she scarcely knew how to
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"He found out what Mr. Brown&mdash;I mean Mr. Maddison&mdash;himself told me, that
+he had known Sir Geoffrey abroad."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing more?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did not ask. To tell the truth, I was not interested. The idea of Mr.
+Maddison being connected with such a crime is simply ridiculous. I was
+heartily sorry that I had ever taken any steps at all."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell lit a cigarette, and drew his remaining letters toward him.</p>
+
+<p>"I must confess," he said slowly, "that when his house was searched in
+my presence, and all that we discovered was that Mr. Brown was really
+Bernard Maddison, I felt very much as you feel; and, as you no doubt
+remember, I went out of my way to be civil to the man, and brought him
+up here to dine. But since then things have cropped up, and I'm bound to
+say that it looks a little queer. I hear that young man of yours told
+several people that he had in his pocket what would bring Mr. Brown to
+the scaffold any day."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not true," she answered in a low firm tone. "I know that it is
+not true."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not, I'm sure. Still, I'd rather he did not come back here
+again. Some one must have done it, you see, and if it was a stranger,
+he must have been a marvelous sort of fellow to come into this lonely
+part of the country, and go away again without leaving a single trace."</p>
+
+<p>"Criminals are all clever at disguises," she interposed.</p>
+
+<p>"Doubtless; but they have yet to learn the art of becoming invisible,"
+he went on drily. "I'm afraid it's no use concealing the fact that
+things look black against Maddison, and there is more than a whisper in
+the county about it. If he's a wise fellow, he'll keep away from here."</p>
+
+<p>"He will not," she answered. "He will come back. He is innocent!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell saw the rising flush in his daughter's face, but he had no
+suspicion as to its real cause. He knew that Bernard Maddison was one of
+her favorite authors, and he put her defence of him down to that fact.
+He was not a particularly warm advocate on either side, and suddenly
+remembering his unopened letters, he abandoned the discussion.</p>
+
+<p>Helen, whose calm happiness had been altogether disturbed, rose in a few
+minutes with the intention of making her escape. But her father, with an
+open letter in his hand, checked her.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you been seeing much of Sir Allen Beaumerville in town, Helen?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a great deal. Why?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"He's coming down here," Mr. Thurwell said. "He asks whether we can put
+him up for a night or two, as he wants to do some botanizing. Of course
+we shall be very pleased. I did give him a general invitation, I
+remember, but I never thought he'd come. You'll see about having some
+rooms got ready, Helen!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, papa, I'll see to it," she answered, moving slowly away.</p>
+
+<p>What could this visit in the middle of the season mean? she wondered
+uneasily. It was so unlike Sir Allan to leave town in May. Could it be
+that what her aunt had once laughingly hinted at was really going to
+happen? Her cheeks burned at the very thought. She liked Sir Allan, and
+she had found him a delightful companion, but even to think of any other
+man now in such a connection seemed unreal and grotesque. After all, it
+was most improbable. Sir Allan had only shown her the attention he
+showed every woman who pleased his fastidious taste.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE VISITS THE COURT</h3>
+
+
+<p>On the following day Sir Allan duly arrived, and in a very short space
+of time Helen's fears had altogether vanished. His appearance was
+certainly not that of an anxious wooer. He was pale and haggard and
+thin, altogether a different person to the brilliant man about town who
+was such a popular figure in society. Something seemed to have aged him.
+There were lines and wrinkles in his face which had never appeared there
+before, and an air of restless depression in his manner and bearing
+quite foreign to his former self.</p>
+
+<p>On the first evening Mr. Thurwell broached some plans for his
+entertainment, but Sir Allan stopped him at once.</p>
+
+<p>"If I may be allowed to choose," he said, "I should like to be
+absolutely quiet for a few days. London life is not the easiest in the
+world, and I'm afraid I must be getting an old man. At any rate I am
+knocked up, and I want a rest."</p>
+
+<p>"You have come to the right place for that," Mr. Thurwell laughed. "You
+could live here for months and never see a soul if you chose. But I'm
+afraid you'll soon be bored."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not afraid of that," Sir Allan answered quietly. "Besides, my
+excuse was not altogether a fiction. I really am an enthusiastic
+botanist, and I want to take up my researches here just where I was
+obliged to leave them off so suddenly last year."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember," he said; "you were staying at Mallory, weren't you, when
+that sad affair to poor Kynaston happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan moved his chair a little, as though to escape from the warmth
+of the fire, and sat where the heavily shaded lamp left his face in the
+shadow.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that was a terrible affair," he said in a low tone; "and a very
+mysterious one. Nothing has ever been heard of the murderer, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"And there are no rumors, no suspicions?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell looked uneasily around, as though to satisfy himself that
+there were no servants lingering in the room.</p>
+
+<p>"It is scarcely a thing to be talked about," he said slowly; "but there
+have been things said."</p>
+
+<p>"About whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"About my tenant at Falcon's Nest&mdash;Bernard Maddison, as he turned out to
+be."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell looked at his guest wonderingly. He could not quite make up
+his mind whether he was profoundly indifferent or equally interested.
+His tone sounded a little cold.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a fellow down here in my employ," continued Mr. Thurwell,
+lighting a fresh cigar, "who turns out to have been a spy or detective
+of some sort. Of course I knew nothing of it at the time&mdash;in fact, I've
+only just found it out; but it seems he ransacked Falcon's Nest and
+discovered some papers which he avowed quite openly would hang Mr.
+Maddison. But what's become of him I don't know."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose he didn't disclose the nature of the papers?" Sir Allan asked
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he didn't go as far as that. By the bye, you know every one,
+Beaumerville. Who is this Bernard Maddison? Of course I know all about
+his writing and that; but what family is he of? He is certainly a
+gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan threw away his cigarette, and rose.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I have heard once, but I don't remember for the moment. Miss
+Helen promised us a little music, didn't she?" he added. "If you are
+ready, shall we go and remind her?"</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan brought the conversation to an end with a shrug of his
+shoulders, and during the remainder of his stay Mr. Thurwell noticed
+that he carefully avoided any reopening of it. Evidently his guest has
+no taste for horrors.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan rose late on the following morning, and until lunch-time
+begged for the use of the library, where he remained writing letters and
+reading up the flora of the neighborhood. Early in the afternoon he
+appeared equipped for his botanizing expedition.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen shall go with you and show you the most likely places," Mr.
+Thurwell had said at luncheon. But though Sir Allan had bowed
+courteously, and had expressed himself as charmed, he had not said
+another word about it, so when the time came he started alone. On the
+whole Helen, although she was by no means ill-pleased, was not a little
+puzzled. In London, when it was sometimes difficult to obtain a place by
+her side at all, Sir Allan had been the most assiduous and attentive of
+cavaliers; but now that they were quite alone in the country, and her
+company was even offered to him, he showed himself by no means eager to
+avail himself of it. On the contrary, he had deliberately preferred
+doing his botanizing alone. Well, she was quite satisfied, she thought,
+with a little laugh. It was far better this way than the other. Still
+she was puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>Later in the afternoon she started for her favorite walk alone. She
+nearly always chose the same way along the cliffs, through the fir
+plantation, and sometimes as far as the hill by the side of which was
+Falcon's Nest. It was a walk full of associations for her, associations
+which had become so dear a part of her life that she always strove to
+heighten them even by choosing the same hour of the day for her walk as
+that well-remembered one when they had stood hand-in-hand for a single
+moment in the shadows of the darkening plantation. And again, as it had
+done many times before, her heart beat fast, and sweet memories began to
+steal back to her as she passed under those black waving branches
+moaning slightly in the evening breeze, and pressed under foot the brown
+leaves which in a sodden mass carpeted the winding path. Yes, it was
+here by that tall slender fir that they had stood for that one moment of
+intense happiness, when the thunder of the sea filling the air around
+them had almost forbidden speech, and the strange light had flashed in
+his dark eyes. She passed the spot with slow, lingering steps and
+quickening pulses, and opening the little hand-gate, climbed slowly up
+the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>At the summit she paused and looked around. A low grey mist hung over
+the moor, and twilight had cast its mantle of half-veiled obscurity over
+sea and land. A wind too had sprung up, blowing her ulster and skirts
+around her, and driving the mist across the moor in clouds of small,
+fine rain. Before her she could just see the dim outline of the opposite
+hill, with its dark patch of firs, and Falcon's Nest, bare and distinct,
+close up against its side. The wind and the rain blew against her, but
+she took no heed. All personal discomforts seemed so little beside these
+memories tinged with such a peculiar sweetness. It is a fact that a
+woman is able to extract far more pleasure from memories than a man, for
+there is in his nature a certain impatience which makes it impossible
+for him to keep his thought fixed steadfastly upon the past. The vivid
+flashes of memory which do come to him only incite a great restlessness
+for its renewal, which, if it be for the time impossible, is only
+disquieting and discontenting. But for a woman, her love itself, even
+though it be for the time detached from its object, is a sweet and
+precious thing. She can yield herself up to its influence, can steep her
+mind and soul in it, till a glow of intense happiness steals through her
+whole frame; and hence her patience during separation is so much greater
+than a man's.</p>
+
+<p>And it was so to a certain extent with Helen. Those few moments of
+intense abstraction had their own peculiar pleasure for her, and it was
+only the sound of the far-off clock borne by the wind across the moor
+from Thurwell Court which recalled her to herself. Then she started, and
+in a moment more would have been on her way home.</p>
+
+<p>But that lingering farewell glance toward Falcon's Nest suddenly changed
+into a startled fearful gaze. Her heart beat fast, and she took an
+involuntary step forward. There was no doubt about it. A dim moving
+light shone from the lower windows of the cottage.</p>
+
+<p>Her first wild thought was that her lover had himself returned, and a
+thrill of intense joy passed through her whole being, only to die away
+before the cold chill of a heart-sickening dread. Was it not far more
+likely to be an intruder of the type of Benjamin Levy, a spy or emissary
+of the law, searching amongst his papers as Benjamin Levy had done, for
+the same hideous reason. Her heart sank with fear, and then leaped up
+with the fierce defensive instinct of a woman who sees her lover's
+enemies working for his ruin. She did not hesitate for an instant, but
+walked swiftly along the cliff-side towards that tremulous light.</p>
+
+<p>The twilight was fast deepening, and the cold grey tint of the dull
+afternoon was gradually becoming blotted out into darkness. As she drew
+nearer to her destination, the low moaning of the sea below became
+mingled with the melancholy sighing of the wind amongst the thick fir
+trees which overhung the cottage. The misty rain blew in her face and
+penetrated her thick ulster. Everything around was as dreary and lonely
+as it could be. The only sign of any human life was that faint
+glimmering light now stationary, as though the searcher whoever he might
+be, had found what he wanted, and had settled down in one of the rooms.</p>
+
+<p>As she drew nearer she saw which it was, and trembled. All the rest of
+the cottage was in black darkness. The light shone only from the window
+of that little inner study on the ground floor.</p>
+
+<p>She had passed through the gate, and with beating heart approached the
+window. A few yards away she paused and looked in.</p>
+
+<p>A candle was burning on a small bracket, and, though its light was but
+dim, it showed her everything. The cabinet was open, and papers were
+strewn about, as though thrown right and left in a desperate search;
+and, with his back to her, a man was seated before it, his bared head
+resting upon his arms, and his whole attitude full of the passionate
+abandonment of a great despair. She had but one thought. It was her
+lover returned, and he needed her consolation. With a new light in her
+face she turned and moved softly toward the front door. As she reached
+the threshold she paused and drew back. There was the sound of footsteps
+inside.</p>
+
+<p>She stepped behind a bush and waited. In a moment the door of the
+cottage was thrown suddenly open, and the tall figure of a man stood in
+the entrance. For one moment he hesitated. Then with a sudden passionate
+gesture he raised his hands high above his head, and she heard a long
+deep moan burst from his quivering lips.</p>
+
+<p>The pity which swelled up in her heart she kept back with a strong hand.
+A strange bewilderment was creeping over her. She had seen only the dark
+outline of the figure, but surely it was not the figure of her lover.
+And then she held her breath, and walking swiftly away, passing so close
+to her that she could look into his white, strained face, Sir Allan
+Beaumerville strode down the garden, and disappeared in the shadows of
+the plantation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SCENE CHANGES</h3>
+
+
+<p>The midday sun had risen into a sky of deep cloudless blue, and a
+silence almost as intense as the silence of night rested upon the earth.
+No one was abroad, no one seemed to have anything particular to do. Far
+away on the vine-covered slopes a few peasants were lazily bending over
+their work, the bright garments of their picturesque attire standing out
+like little specks of brilliant coloring against the dun-colored
+background. But in the quaint old-fashioned town itself no one was
+astir. One solitary Englishman made his way alone and almost unnoticed
+through the queer zig-zag streets, up the worn grey steps by the famous
+statute of Minerva, and on to the terraced walk, fronting which were the
+aristocratic villas of the little Italian town.</p>
+
+<p>It was a solitude which was pleasing to him, for it was very evident
+that he was no curious tourist, or casual visitor of any sort. His eyes
+were full of that eager half-abstracted look which so clearly denotes
+the awakening of old associations, quickened into life by familiar
+surroundings; and, indeed, it was so. To Bernard Maddison, every stone
+in that quietly sleeping, picturesque old town spoke with a language of
+its own. The very atmosphere, laden with the sultry languorous heat of a
+southern sun, seemed charged with memories. Their influence was strong
+upon him, and he walked like a man in a dream, until he reached what
+seemed to be his destination, and here he paused.</p>
+
+<p>He had come to the end of the terraced walk, the evening promenade of
+the whole town. Before him was a small orange grove, whose aromatic
+odor, faintly penetrating the still air, added one more to his stock of
+memories. On his right hand was a grey stone wall, worn and tottering
+with age, and overhung with green creepers and shrubs, reaching over and
+hanging down from the other side, and let into it, close to him, was a
+low nail-studded door of monastic shape, half hidden by a luxurious
+drooping shrub, from amongst the foliage of which peeped out star-like
+clusters of soft scarlet flowers.</p>
+
+<p>For many moments he stood before that door, with his hand resting upon
+the rusty latch, lingering in a sort of apathy, as though he were
+unwilling to disturb some particular train of thought. Then a
+mellow-sounding bell from a convent in the valley below startled him,
+and immediately he lifted the latch before him. There was no other
+fastening, and the door opened. He stepped inside, and carefully
+reclosed it.</p>
+
+<p>He was in a garden, a garden of desolation, which nature seemed to have
+claimed for her own and made beautiful. It was a picture of luxuriant
+overgrowth. The grass on the lawns had become almost a jungle. It had
+grown up over the base of the deep grey stone basins of exquisite shape
+and carving, the tiny statuettes tottering into ruin, and the worn old
+sun-dial, across which the slanting rays of the sun still glanced.
+Weeds, too, had crept up around them in picturesque toils, weeds which
+had started to destroy, but remained to adorn with all the sweet abandon
+of unrestrained growth. Some of them had put forth brilliant blossoms
+of many hues, little spots of exquisite coloring against the sombre hue
+of the stonework and the deep green of the leaves. Everywhere nature had
+triumphed over science and skill. Everything was changed, and nature had
+shown herself a more perfect gardener than man. The gravel paths were
+embedded with soft green moss, studded with clumps of white and purple
+violets, whose faint fragrance, mingled with the more exotic scent of
+other plants, filled the warm air with a peculiar dreamy perfume.
+Nowhere had the hand of man sought to restrain or to develop. Nature had
+had her own way, and had made for herself a fair garden.</p>
+
+<p>A little overcome by the heat, and a little, too, by swiftly stirring
+memories, Bernard Maddison sank down upon a low iron seat, under the
+shade of a little clump of almond trees, and covered his face with his
+hands. And there came to him, as he sat there, something more vivid than
+an ordinary day-dream, something so real and minutely played out, that
+afterwards it possessed for him all the freshness and significance of a
+veritable trance. It seemed, indeed, as if some mysterious force had
+drawn aside the curtain of the past in his mind, and had bidden him look
+out once more upon the moving figures in a living drama.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The warm sunlight faded from the sky, the summer heat died out of the
+air, the soft velvety mantle of a southern night lay upon the brooding
+land. Many stars were burning in the deep-blue heavens, and the horned
+moon, golden and luminous, hung low down in the west.</p>
+
+<p>Pale, and with the fever of a great anger burning in his dry eyes, a
+man sat at the open window of the villa yonder, watching. Around him
+were scattered all the signs of arduous brain labor, books, manuscripts,
+classical dictionaries, and works of reference. But his pen had fallen
+from his hand, and he was doing nothing. He sat there idle, gazing out
+upon the fantastic shapes and half-veiled gloom of this fair garden. Its
+rich balmy odors, and the fainter perfume of rarer plants which floated
+languidly in through the open window, were nothing to him. He was barely
+conscious of the sweet delights of the voluptuous summer night. He was
+watching with his eyes fixed upon the east, where morning would soon be
+breaking.</p>
+
+<p>It came at last&mdash;what he was waiting for. There was a slight click of
+the latch from the old postern door in the wall, and the low murmur of
+voices&mdash;a man's, pleading and passionate, and a woman's, half gay, half
+mocking. Then the door opened and shut, and a tall fair lady walked
+leisurely up toward the villa.</p>
+
+<p>She wore no hat, but a hooded opera-cloak was thrown loosely over her
+shoulders, and as she strolled up the path, pausing every now and then
+to carelessly gather a handful of the drooping lilies, whose perfume
+made faint the heavy night air, its folds parted, and revealed brief
+glimpses of soft white drapery and flashing jewels on her bosom and in
+her hair. Her feet, too, were cased in tiny white satin slippers, which
+seemed scarcely to press the ground, so lightly and gracefully she
+walked. Altogether she was very fair to look upon&mdash;the fairest sight in
+all that lovely garden.</p>
+
+<p>Not so seemed to think the man who stood back in the shadow of the
+window, waiting for her. His white face was ghastly with passion, and
+his fingers were nervously interlaced in the curtains. It was only with
+a supreme effort that he at last flung them from him, and moved forward
+as though to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>She saw him standing there, pale and rigid, like a carved statue, save
+for the passion which burned in his eyes, and for a moment she
+hesitated. Then, with the resigned air of one who makes up her mind to
+face something disagreeable, she shrugged her shoulders, and throwing
+away the handful of lilies she had gathered, advanced toward him.</p>
+
+<p>They neither of them spoke until they stood face to face. Then, as his
+motionless form prevented her stepping through the window, and barred
+her further progress, she came to a standstill, and addressed him
+lightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yours is a strange welcome home, <i>mon ami</i>," she said. "Why do you
+stand there looking so fierce?"</p>
+
+<p>He pointed with shaking fingers away toward the east, where a faint
+gleam of daylight was lightening the sky.</p>
+
+<p>"Where have you been?" he asked harshly. "Can you not see that it is
+morning? All night long I have sat here watching for you. Where have you
+been?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know very well where I have been," she answered carelessly. "To the
+ball at the Leon d'Or. I told you that I was going."</p>
+
+<p>"Told me! You told me! Did I not forbid it? Did I not tell you that I
+would not have you go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nevertheless, I have been," she answered lightly. "It was an
+engagement, and I never break engagements."</p>
+
+<p>"An engagement? You, with no chaperon, to go to a common ball at a
+public room! An engagement. Yes, with your lover, I presume."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him steadily, and yawned in his face.</p>
+
+<p>"You are in a bad temper, I fear," she said. "At least, you are very
+rude. Let me pass, will you? I am tired of standing here."</p>
+
+<p>He was beside himself with passion, and for a second or two he did not
+speak. But when at last the words came, they were clear and distinct
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>"Into this house you shall never pass again," he said. "You have
+disregarded my wishes, you have disobeyed my orders, and now you are
+deceiving me. You are trifling with my honor. You are bringing shame
+upon my name. Go and keep your assignations from another roof. Mine has
+sheltered your intrigues long enough!"</p>
+
+<p>The hand which had kept together her opera-cloak relinquished its grasp,
+and it fell back upon her shoulders. The whole beauty of her sinuous
+figure, in its garb of dazzling white, stood revealed. The moonlight
+gleamed in her fair hair, bound up with one glittering gem, shone softly
+upon her white swelling throat and bare arms, and flashed in her dark
+eyes, suddenly full of passion. Her right hand was nervously clasped
+around a little morsel of lace handkerchief which she had drawn from the
+folds of her corsage, and which seemed to make the air around heavy with
+a sweet perfume.</p>
+
+<p>"You are angry, and you do not know what you are saying," she said. "It
+is true that you forbade me to go to-night&mdash;but you forbid everything. I
+cannot live your life. It is too dull, too <i>triste</i>. It is cruel of you
+to expect it. Let me go in now. If you want to scold, you can do so
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>She stepped forward, but he laid his hands upon her dainty shoulders and
+pushed her roughly back.</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" he cried savagely. "Go and live what life you choose. This is
+no home for you. Go, I say!"</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him, her lovely eyes turned pleadingly upwards, and her
+lips trembling.</p>
+
+<p>"You are mad!" she said. "Am I not your wife? You have no right to keep
+me here. And my boy, too. Let me pass."</p>
+
+<p>He did not move, nor did he show any sign of yielding. He stood there
+with his hand stretched out in a threatening gesture toward her, his
+face pale and mute as marble, but with the blind rage still burning in
+his dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the boy, or what am I to you?" he cried hoarsely. "Begone,
+woman!"</p>
+
+<p>Still she did not seem to understand.</p>
+
+<p>"Where would you have me go?" she asked. "Is not this my home? What have
+I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Go to your lover!" he interrupted fiercely. "Tell him that your husband
+is no longer your tool. He will take you in."</p>
+
+<p>A burning color streamed into her delicate cheeks, and a sudden passion
+blazed in her eyes. She drew herself up to her full height and turned
+upon him with the dignity of an empress.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen to me one moment," she said. "Ask yourself whether you have ever
+tried to make my life a happy one. Did I ever pretend to care for books
+and solitude? Before I married you I told you that I was fond of change
+and gaiety and life, and you promised me that I should have it. Ask
+yourself how you have kept that promise. You deny me every pleasure, and
+drive me to seek them alone. I am weary of your jealous furies, and
+your evil temper. As God looks down upon us at this moment, I have been
+a faithful wife to you; but if you will add to all your cruelties this
+cowardly, miserable indignity, then I will never willingly look upon
+your face again, and what sin I do will be on your head, not mine. Will
+you stand aside and let me pass?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" he answered. "Never!"</p>
+
+<p>She drew her mantle round her shoulders, and turned her back upon him
+with a contemptuous gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"You have made me what I shall be," she said. "The sin be with you. For
+several weary years you have made me miserable. Now you have made me
+wicked."</p>
+
+<p>She walked away into the perfumed darkness, and presently he heard the
+gate close behind her. He listened frantically, hoping to hear her
+returning steps. It was in vain. All was silent. Then he felt his limbs
+totter, and he sank back on a couch, and buried his face amongst the
+cushions.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+
+<h3>BENJAMIN LEVY RUNS HIS QUARRY TO EARTH</h3>
+
+
+<p>The slumberous afternoon wore slowly away. A slight breeze rustled
+amongst the cypresses and the olive trees, and the air grew clearer. The
+sun was low in the heavens, and long shadows lay across the brilliant
+patches of flowers, half wild, half cultivated, and on the moss-grown
+walks.</p>
+
+<p>Still Bernard Maddison made no movement. It may have been that he shrunk
+from what was before him, or it may have been that he had some special
+purpose in thus calling up those broken visions of the past into his
+mind. For, as he sat there, they still thronged in upon him, disjointed
+and confused, yet all tinged with that peculiar sadness which seemed to
+have lain heavy upon his life.</p>
+
+<p>Again the memory of those long lonely days of his boyhood stole in upon
+him. He thought of that terrible day when his father stood by his
+bedside, and had bidden him in an awful voice ask no more for his
+mother, and think of her only as dead; and he remembered well the chill
+of cold despair with which he had realized that that fair, sweet woman,
+who had called him her little son, and who had accepted his devoted
+boyish affection with a sort of amused pleasure, was gone from him for
+ever. Henceforth life would indeed be a dreary thing, alone with that
+cold, silent student, with whom he was almost afraid to speak, and whom
+he scarcely ever addressed by the name of father.</p>
+
+<p>A dreary time it had indeed been. His memory glanced lightly over the
+long monotonous years with a sort of shuddering recoil. He thought of
+his father's frequent absences, and of his return from one of them in
+the middle of a winter's night, propped up in an invalid carriage, with
+a surgeon in attendance, and blood-stained bandages around his leg. And
+he thought of a night when he had sat up with him while the nurse
+rested, and one name had ceaselessly burst from those white feverish
+lips, laden with fierce curses and deep vindictive hate, a name which
+had since been written into his memory with letters of fire. Further and
+further on his memory dragged him, until he himself, a boy no longer,
+had stood upon the threshold of man-hood, and on one awful night had
+heard from his father's lips that story which had cast its shadow across
+his life. Then for the first time had sprung up of some sort of sympathy
+between them, sympathy which had for its foundation a common hatred, a
+common sense of deep, unpardonable wrong. The oath which his father had
+sworn with trembling lips the son had echoed, and in dread of the
+vengeance of these two, the man against whom they had sworn it cut
+himself off from his fellows, and skulked in every out-of-the-way corner
+of Europe, a hunted being in peril of his life. There had come a great
+change over their lives, and they had drifted farther apart again. He
+himself had gone out into the world something of a scholar and something
+of a pedant, and he had found that all his ideas of life had lain
+rusting in his country home, and that he had almost as much to unlearn
+as to learn. With ample means, and an eager thirst for knowledge, he had
+passed from one to another of the great seats of learning of the world.
+But his lesson was not taught him at one of them. He learned it not
+amongst the keen conflict of intellect at the universities, not in the
+toils of the great vague disquiet which was throbbing amongst all
+cultured and artistic society, but in the eternal silence of Mont Blanc
+and her snow-capped Alps, and the whisperings of the night winds which
+blew across the valleys. At Heidelberg he had been a philosopher, in
+Italy he had been a scholar, and in Switzerland he became a poet. When
+once again he returned to the more feverish life of cities he was a
+changed man. He looked out upon life now with different eyes and
+enlarged vision. Passion had given place to a certain studied calm, a
+sort of inward contemplativeness which is ever inseparable from the true
+artist. Life became for him almost too impersonal, too little human.
+Soon it threatened to become one long abstraction, accompanied
+necessarily with a weakened hold on all sensuous things, and a
+corresponding decline in taste and appreciation. One thing had saved him
+from relapsing into the nervous dreamer, and the weaver of bright but
+aimless fancies. He had loved, and he had become a man again, linked to
+the world and the things of the world by the pulsations of his passion
+and his strong deep love. Was it well for him or ill, he wondered. Well,
+it might have been save for the deadly peril in which he lived, and
+which seemed closing fast around him. Well, it surely would have
+been....</p>
+
+<p>Lower and lower the sun had sunk, till now its rim touched the horizon.
+The evening breeze stealing down from the hills had gathered strength
+until now it was almost cold. The distant sound of footsteps, and the
+gay laughing voices of the promenaders from the awakening town broke the
+deep stillness which had hung over the garden and recalled Bernard
+Maddison from thoughtland. He rose to his feet, a little stiff, and
+walked slowly along the path towards the villa. At that same moment, Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, tired and angry with his long waiting, stole into the
+garden by the postern-gate.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+
+<h3>BENJAMIN LEVY WRITES HOME</h3>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>June 10th</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Dad</span>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I wired you yesterday afternoon, immediately on our arrival at
+this outlandish little place, to write to me at the hotel Leon
+d'Or, for it seems that we have reached our destination&mdash;by we, of
+course, I mean Mr. Maddison and myself, though he has not the least
+idea of my presence here. Well, this is a queer old crib, I can
+tell you, and the sooner we are on the move again the better I
+shall be pleased. The fodder is odious, not fit for a pig, and the
+wine is ditto. What wouldn't I give for a pint of Bass like they
+draw at the Blue Boar? Old England for me is my motto!</p>
+
+<p>"And now to biz! So far all's well. I'm on the right tack and no
+mistake. We got here middle day, yesterday&mdash;came over the hills
+from the railway in a regular old bone-shaker of a coach. My
+tourist get-up is quite the fig, and though I caught Mr. M&mdash;&mdash;
+eyeing me over a bit supercilious like once, he didn't recognize me
+if ever he did see me down at Thurwell Court, which I don't think
+he did. Well, directly we got here, off started Mr. M&mdash;&mdash; through
+the town, and after a bit I followed. Lord! it was hot and no
+mistake, but he didn't seem to notice it, though the perspiration
+was streaming down my back like anything. About a mile out of town
+we came to a great high wall with a door in it, and before I could
+say 'Jack Robinson' or get anywhere near him, in he went. Well, I
+hung round a bit, and soon I found a sort of opening in the wall
+where I could just see in, and there he was sitting down on a seat
+in a regular howling wilderness of a garden, as though the whole
+place belonged to him, if you please. All right! I thought, I'm
+agreeable to a rest, and I sat down too, little thinking what was
+in store for me. Four mortal hours passed before he stirred, and
+jolly stiff and tired I was, I can tell you. But it was a lucky
+thing for me all the same, for when he got up and made for the
+house it was almost dark, so without more ado I just opened the
+door and walked in myself. There was no end of shrubs and trees
+about the place, and though I followed him on another path only a
+few yards away, he couldn't see me, and there was no chance of his
+hearing, for the moss had grown over the gravel like a blooming
+carpet, which was all lucky for me again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we were just close to the house, when we both of us got a
+start, and I nearly yelled out. Round the corner of his path, thank
+goodness! came a tall, white-haired old lady, in a long black
+dress, with an ivory cross hanging down, and looking as dignified
+as possible. She no sooner saw him than she stopped and cried out,
+'Bernard! Bernard!' and seemed as though she were going to faint.
+She pulled herself together, however, and things became very
+interesting for me, I can tell you.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. M&mdash;&mdash; he was going to take her hands and kiss her, but she
+drew them away and stood back. Lord! how awful her face did look!
+It gave me a regular turn just to look at her.</p>
+
+<p>"'Bernard!' she cried out in a low, shaking voice, 'I know
+all&mdash;all!'</p>
+
+<p>"'What do you mean, mother?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Then she stretched her arms up, and it was dreadful to look at
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"'I had a dream!' she cried, 'a dream which kept me shuddering
+and sleepless from midnight to daybreak. I dreamed I saw
+him&mdash;dead&mdash;cold and dead!'</p>
+
+<p>"He said nothing, but he seemed fearfully upset. I kept crouched
+down behind a shrub and listened.</p>
+
+<p>"'In the morning I sent for a file of English newspapers,' she went
+on. 'One by one I searched them through till I came to August last
+year. There I found it. Bernard, it was at Thurwell Court. I had a
+letter in my pocket from you with the postmark Thurwell. Don't come
+near me, but speak! Is there blood upon your hands?'</p>
+
+<p>"And now, dad, the most provoking things happened. It seemed just
+as though it were done to spite me. He had his mouth open to
+answer, and I had my ears open, as you may guess, to listen, and
+see what happens, and tell me if it wasn't a rare sell! Off the old
+woman goes into a faint all of a sudden. He catches hold of her and
+sings out for help. Down I ran to the door as hard as I could,
+slammed it as though I had just come in, and came running up the
+path. 'Anything the matter?' I called out, as though I didn't know
+my way. 'A lady fainted,' he shouts; 'come and help me carry her
+into the house;' so up I went, and together we carried her inside
+and laid her on a couch in one of the queerest-furnished rooms I
+ever saw. There was servants with lighted lamps running about, and
+another woman who seemed to be a relation, and such a fuss they all
+made, and no mistake. However, Mr. M&mdash;&mdash; cooled them all down
+again pretty soon, for he could see that it was only an ordinary
+faint, and then he began to look at me curiously. I had made up my
+mind to stay until the old woman came round, but he was too many
+for me, for he got up and took me to the door himself. Of course,
+he was awfully polite and all that, and was very much obliged for
+my help, but I twigged it in a moment. He wanted me gone, so off I
+skedaddled.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, back I went to the inn, and began to make a few cautious
+inquiries about the lady of the Villa Fiorlessa, for that was the
+name of the house where I had left Mr. M&mdash;&mdash;. I could not get on at
+all at first, not understanding a word of the blessed lingo, but by
+good luck I tumbled across an artist chap who turned out a good
+sort, and offered to interpret for me. So we had the landlord in,
+and I ordered a bottle of his best wine&mdash;nasty greasy stuff it
+was&mdash;and we went at it hammer and tongs. Pretty soon I had found
+out everything I wanted to.</p>
+
+<p>"Nearly twenty years ago the lady&mdash;Mrs. Martival she was
+called&mdash;had come to the Villa Fiorlessa with her husband and one
+little boy. They were, it seems, one of the worst-matched couples
+that could be imagined. Mr. Martival was a gloomy, severe man, who
+hated going out, and worked at some sort of writing day and night.
+His wife, on the other hand, who was a Frenchwoman, was
+passionately fond of travel, and change, and gaiety. Her life was
+consequently very like a prison, and it is stated, too, that
+besides denying her every whim and forcing her to live in a manner
+she utterly disliked, her husband ill-treated her shamefully. Well,
+she made a few friends here and went to see them pretty often, and
+just at that time an English milord&mdash;you can guess who he was&mdash;came
+here to see the statue, and met Mrs. Martival, whom he seems to
+have known before her marriage. The exact particulars are not
+known, but it is supposed that Mrs. Martival would have been
+married to this young Englishman, Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, but for
+some deep scheming on the part of Mr. Martival. Anyhow, there was a
+desperate quarrel between Mr. and Mrs. Martival, when she charged
+him with duplicity before this marriage, and he forbade her to meet
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston again. Quite properly she refused to obey
+him, and they met often, although every one seems quite sure that
+at that time they met only as friends. Mr. Martival, however,
+appears to have thought otherwise, for one night, after what they
+call their carnival dance here, which every one in the neighborhood
+had attended, Mr. Martival had the brutality to close his doors
+against her, and refuse to let her enter the house. It was the
+crowning piece of barbarism to a long course of jealous cruelties.
+Mrs. Martival spent that night with some friends, and seems even
+then to have hesitated for a long time. Her married life had been
+one long disappointment, and this brutal action of her husband had
+ended it. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was madly in love with her, and she
+was one of those women who must be loved. In the end she ran away
+with him, which seemed a very natural thing for her to do.</p>
+
+<p>"The queerest part of it is to come, though. Sir Geoffrey was
+devoted to her, and would have married her at once if Mr. Martival
+would have sued for a divorce. He showed her every kindness, and he
+lavished his money and his love upon her. But it seems that she
+was a devout Roman Catholic, and the horror of what she had done
+preyed upon her so, that in less than a month she left Sir
+Geoffrey, and entered one of the lower sort of nunneries as a
+menial. From there she went to the wars as a nurse, and did a great
+deal of good. When she returned, of all places in the world she
+came back to the Villa Fiorlessa, partly from a curious notion of
+penance, that she might be continually reminded of her sin. The
+queerest part of it is, however, that the people round here behaved
+like real Christians, and jolly different to what they would have
+done at home. They knew all her history, and they welcomed her back
+as though that month in her life had never been. That's what I call
+charity, real charity, dad! Don't know what you think about it.
+Well, there she's lived ever since with her sister, who had lots of
+money (she died last year), and the poor people all around just
+worshipped them.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, to go back a bit. Mr. Martival, although he had been such
+a brute to his wife, no sooner found out that she was with Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston than he swore the most horrible oaths of
+vengeance, and went off after them. He was brought back in a fever,
+with a pistol shot in his leg, which served him d&mdash;&mdash;d well right,
+I think. No sooner was he better than he started off again in
+pursuit, but Sir Geoffrey dodged him, and they never met. Meanwhile
+the young cub, whom you will recognize as Mr. M&mdash;&mdash;, had grown up,
+and what must his father do when he returned but tell him as much
+of the story as suited him, with the result that he too swore an
+oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. Time goes on, and
+Mr. Martival and his son both leave here. Mr. Martival is reported
+to have died in Paris, his son goes to England, and is lost sight
+of. We can, however, follow the story a little further. We can
+follow it down to its last scene, and discover in the Mr. Brown who
+had taken a small cottage near Sir Geoffrey's seat, within a week
+of his return home, and whom soon afterwards we discover bending
+over Sir Geoffrey's murdered body, the boy who, fired with what his
+father had thundered into his ears as his mother's ruin, had sworn
+that oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey.</p>
+
+<p>"All this looks very simple, doesn't it? and I dare say, my dear
+dad, you're wondering why I don't come straight away home, and
+cause a sensation at Scotland Yard by clearing up the Kynaston
+murder. Simply because that isn't quite my game. I didn't come over
+here to collect evidence against Mr. M&mdash;&mdash;, for I could have laid
+my hand on plenty of that at home. There is something else at the
+back of it all, which I can only see very dimly yet, but which will
+come as a crasher, I can tell you, when it does come. At present I
+won't say anything about this, only keep your eyes open and be
+prepared. Ta-ta!</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Your obedient son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Ben</span>.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"P.S. Don't worry about Xs. They won't come out of your pocket in
+the long run, I can tell you.</p>
+
+<p>"P.S. 2. Wednesday evening. Here's a pretty pickle! You remember
+the artist I told you about. I'm d&mdash;&mdash;d if he isn't a regular from
+S.Y., and he's got his pocket-book pretty full, too. The game is
+serious now and no mistake. Mind you, I think we stand to win
+still, but I can't be quite sure while this chap's on the lay. Look
+out for telegrams, and don't be surprised if I turn up at any
+moment. It may come to a race between us. D&mdash;&mdash;n, I wonder how he
+got on the scent!"</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+
+<h3>A STRANGE TRIO OF PASSENGERS</h3>
+
+
+<p>Before the open window of her room, looking out upon the fair wilderness
+below, and over its high stone walls to the dim distant line of hills
+vanishing in an ethereal mist, lay Mrs. Martival, and by her side stood
+Bernard Maddison, looking down into her white suffering face.</p>
+
+<p>Sorrow and time together had made strange havoc with its beauty, and yet
+the lines had been laid on with no harsh hand. There was a certain
+dignity which it had never lost, which indeed resigned and large-minded
+sadness only enhances, and her simple religious life had given a touch
+of spirituality to those thin, delicate features so exquisitely carved
+and moulded. The bloom had gone from her cheeks for ever, and their
+intense pallor was almost deathlike, matching very nearly her snow-white
+hair, but her eyes seemed to have retained much of their old power and
+sweetness, and the light which sometimes flashed in them lent her face a
+peculiar charm. But now they were full of a deep anxiety as she lay
+there, a restless disquiet which showed itself also in her nervously
+twitching fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Far away down the valley the little convent clock struck the hour, and
+at its sound she looked up at him.</p>
+
+<p>"You go at nine o'clock, Bernard?"</p>
+
+<p>"At nine o'clock, mother, unless you wish me to stay."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I shall be better alone. This thing will crush me into the grave,
+but death will be very welcome. Oh, my son, my son, that the sin of one
+weak woman should have given birth to all this misery!"</p>
+
+<p>He stooped over her, and held her thin fingers in his strong man's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not trouble about it, mother," he said. "I can bear my share. Try
+and forget it."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes flashed strangely, and her lips parted in a smile which was no
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Forget it! That is a strange speech, Bernard. Have I the power to
+beckon to those hills yonder, and bid them bow their everlasting heads?
+Can I put back the hand of time, and live my life over again? Even so
+futile is my power over memory. It is my penance, and I pray day and
+night for strength to bear it."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice died away with a little break, and there was silence. Soon she
+spoke again.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me&mdash;something about her, Bernard."</p>
+
+<p>His face changed, but it was only a passing glow, almost as though one
+of those long level rays of sunlight had glanced for a moment across his
+features.</p>
+
+<p>"She is good and beautiful, and all that a woman should be," he
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Does she know?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"She trusts me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will be happy?" she asked eagerly. "Happy even if the worst
+come! Time will wipe out the memory."</p>
+
+<p>He turned away with a dull sickening pain at his heart. The worst he had
+not told her. How could he? How could he add another to her sorrows by
+telling her of the peril in which he stood? How could he tell her what
+he suspected to be true&mdash;that in that quiet little Italian town English
+detectives were watching his every movement, and that at any moment he
+might be arrested? With her joyless life, and with this new misery
+closing around her, would it not be well for her to die?</p>
+
+<p>"It is farewell between us now, Bernard, then?" she said softly. "God
+grant that you may be going back to a new and happier life. May I, who
+have failed so utterly, give you just one word of advice?"</p>
+
+<p>He bowed his head, for just then he could not have spoken. She raised
+herself a little upon her couch, and felt for his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Bernard, you are not as your father was," she said; "yet you, too, have
+something of the student in you. Don't think that I am going to say
+anything against learning and culture. It is a grand thing for a man to
+devote himself to; but, like everything else, in excess it has its
+dangers. Sometimes it makes a man gloomy and reserved, and averse to all
+change and society, and intolerant toward others. Bernard, it is bad for
+his wife then. A woman sets so much store by little things&mdash;her
+happiness is bound up in them. She is very, very human, and she wants to
+be loved, and considered, and feel herself a great part in her husband's
+life and thoughts. And if it is all denied to her, what is she to do? Of
+necessity she must be miserable. A man should never let his wife feel
+that she is shut out from any one of his great interests. He should
+never let those little mutual ties which once held them together grow
+weak, and fancy because he is living amongst the ghosts of great
+thoughts that little human responsibilities have no claim upon him.
+Bernard, you will remember all this!"</p>
+
+<p>"Every word, mother," he answered. "Helen would thank you if she had
+been here."</p>
+
+<p>A horn sounded from outside, and he drew out his watch hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"The diligence, mother!" he exclaimed; "I must go."</p>
+
+<p>He took her frail form up into his arms, and kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>"If all goes well," he said in a low tone, "I will bring her to you."</p>
+
+<p>"If she will come, I shall die happy," she murmured. "But not against
+her will or without knowing all. Farewell!"</p>
+
+<p>That night three men were racing home to England as fast as express
+train and steamer could bear them. One was Bernard Maddison, another Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, and the third his artist friend.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>VISITORS FOR MR. BERNARD MADDISON</h3>
+
+
+<p>In an ordinary case, with three men starting from a given point in North
+Italy at the same time, the odds seem in favor of their all reaching
+their destination at the same time. As it happened, however, there was
+another factor to be considered, which had its due result. Bernard
+Maddison was rather more at home on Continental railroads than he was on
+English ones, whereas neither of the other two had ever before left
+their own country save under the wing of "Cook." The consequence was
+that by the aid of sundry little man[oe]uvres, which completely puzzled
+his would-be companions, Bernard Maddison stood on the platform of
+Waterloo while they were still in the throes of seasickness. As a
+further consequence two telegrams were dispatched from Ostend, and were
+duly delivered in England. The first was from Benjamin Levy to his
+father.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Meet all boat trains at Waterloo, and try to recognize B. M. King
+will do to shadow. Ascertain Miss Thurwell's address. Home early
+to-morrow."</p></div>
+
+<p>The second was from his acquaintance, the artist, to Scotland Yard.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Bernard Maddison ahead of us. Meet all trains. Tall, dark, thin,
+pale, brown check traveling ulster. Photograph for sale in Regent
+Street if can get to shop."</p></div>
+
+<p>Both telegrams were conscientiously attended to, and when Bernard
+Maddison drove out of the station his hansom was followed by two others.
+There was nothing very suspicious about his movements. First of all he
+was set down at his club, which meant a wait of an hour and a half for
+his watchers. At the end of that time he reappeared with all the traces
+of his journey effaced, and in a fresh suit of clothes, carrying now a
+smaller portmanteau. He lit a cigarette, and sent for a hansom. This
+time he was set down at King's Cross, and took a ticket for a small town
+on the Yorkshire coast. Hereupon the employee of Messrs. Levy &amp; Son
+retired, having ascertained all that he was required to ascertain. The
+other myrmidon, however, having dispatched his subordinate to
+headquarters with particulars of his destination, took up the chase.</p>
+
+<p>It was late in the afternoon before they reached their journey's end,
+but Bernard Maddison was quite unconscious of any fatigue, and marching
+straight out of the station, turned toward Mallory. The man who was
+following him, however, hired a carriage, and drove down to the hotel.
+He knew quite well where the other was going to, and as nothing could be
+done that night, he determined to enjoy as much as he could of his
+seaside trip, and, after making up for his day's fasting by a
+satisfactory tea, he spent the evening on the jetty listening to the
+town brass band.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>That was a strange walk for Bernard Maddison. Two sensations were
+struggling within him for the mastery, fear and despair at the terrible
+crisis which seemed to yawn before his feet, and that sweet revolution
+of feeling, that intense, yearning love, which had suddenly thrown a
+golden halo over his cold barren life. But as he left the road and took
+the moorland path along the cliff, the battle suddenly came to an end.
+Before him stretched the open moor, brilliant with coloring, with dark
+flushes of purple, and bright streaks of yellow gorse, and the sunlight
+glancing upon the hills. There was the pleasant murmuring of the sea in
+his ears, a glistening, dancing, silver sea, the blue sky above, and the
+fresh strong breeze full of vigorous, bracing life. Something of a glad
+recklessness stole over him and lightened his heart. This was no scene,
+no hour for sad thoughts. Where was the philosophy of nursing such, of
+giving them a home even for a moment? Joy and sorrow, what were they but
+abstract states of the mind? Let him wait until the ashes were between
+his teeth. The future and the past no man could command, but the present
+was his own. He would claim it. He would drink deep of the joy which lay
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>And as he walked on over the soft springy turf, with the tall chimneys
+of Thurwell Court in the valley before him, life leaped madly through
+his veins, and a deep joy held memory in a torpor, and filled his heart
+with gladness. The whole passionate side of his nature had been suddenly
+quickened into life by his surroundings, and by the thought that down
+yonder the woman whom he loved was waiting for him. Once again, come
+what may, he would hold her in his arms and hear her voice tremble with
+joy at his return. Once more he would hold her face up to his, and look
+into her dim, soft eyes, full of that glowing lovelight which none can
+fail to read. Once again he would drink deep of this delicious
+happiness, a long sweet draught, and if life ended after that moment he
+would at least have touched the limits of all earthly joys.</p>
+
+<p>And suddenly he stood face to face with her. He had passed Falcon's
+Nest, dismantled and desolate, with scarcely a careless glance, and had
+entered the long pine grove which fringed the cliff side. Already he was
+close to the spot where they had stood once before, and with all the
+subtle sweetness of those memories stealing in upon him he had turned
+aside to look through the tree tops down into the sea, as they had done
+together. Thus he was standing when he heard light firm footsteps close
+at hand, and a little surprised cry which rang in his ears like music,
+for it was her voice.</p>
+
+<p>They stood face to face, their hands clasped. In that first moment of
+tremulous joy neither of them spoke. Each was struggling for
+realization, for even an inward expression of the ecstasy of this
+meeting. For them there was a new glory in the sunny heavens, a new
+beauty in the glistening sea and the softly waving pine trees, even in
+the air they breathed. The intensity of this joy filled their hearts,
+their fancy, their imagination. Everything was crowned with a soft
+golden light; new springs of feeling leaped up within them, bringing
+glowing revelations of such delight as mocked expression. For them only
+at that moment the sun shone, and the summer winds whispered in the
+trees, and the birds sang. The world was theirs, or rather a new one of
+their own creation. The past and the future emptied their joys into the
+overflowing bowl of the present. Life stood still for them. There was no
+horizon, no background. Oh, it is a great thing, the greatest thing upon
+this earth, to love and be loved!</p>
+
+<p>Each dreaded speech. It seemed as though a single word must drag them
+down from a new heaven to an old earth. Yet those murmured passionate
+words of his, as he drew her softly into his arms, and her head sank
+upon his shoulder&mdash;they were scarcely words. And then again there was
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>It lasted long. It seemed to him that it might have lasted forever. But
+the sun went down behind the hills, and a dusky twilight stole down upon
+the earth. Then she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"My love, my love! you must listen to me. I have a confession to make."</p>
+
+<p>"A confession? You!" he echoed.</p>
+
+<p>Her cheeks burned with a fire which seemed to her like the fire of
+shame. Her tongue seemed hung with sudden weights. She had doubted him.
+The hideousness of it oppressed her like a nightmare; yet her voice did
+not falter.</p>
+
+<p>"You remember those dying words of Rachel Kynaston?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have never forgotten them," he answered simply.</p>
+
+<p>"They laid a charge upon me. I told myself that it was a sacred charge.
+Listen, my love&mdash;listen, and hate me! I have been to detectives. I paid
+them money to hunt you down; I have done this, I who love you. No, don't
+draw your arms away. I have done this. It was before I knew. Oh, I have
+suffered! God! how I have suffered! It has been an agony to me. You will
+forgive me! I will not let you go unless you forgive me."</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at her in silence. His cheeks were pale and his eyes were
+grave. Yet there was no anger.</p>
+
+<p>"I will forgive you, Helen," he whispered&mdash;"nay, there is nothing to
+forgive. Only tell me this: you do not doubt me now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never again!" she cried passionately. "God forgive me that I have ever
+doubted you! It is like a horrible dream to me; but it lies far behind,
+and the morning has come."</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her once more and opened his arms. With a low happy laugh she
+shook her tumbled hair straight, and hand in hand they walked slowly
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been long gone," she whispered reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>He sighed as he answered her. How long might not his next absence be!</p>
+
+<p>"It has seemed as long to me as to you, sweetheart," he said. "Every
+moment away from you I have counted as a lost moment in my life."</p>
+
+<p>"That is very pretty," she answered. "And now you are here, are you
+going to stay?"</p>
+
+<p>"Until the end," he said solemnly. "You know, Helen, that I am in deadly
+peril. The means of averting it which I went abroad to seek, I could not
+use."</p>
+
+<p>She thought of those letters, bought and safely burnt, and she pressed
+his fingers. She would tell him of them presently.</p>
+
+<p>"They shall not take you from me, Bernard, now," she said softly. "Kiss
+me again, dear."</p>
+
+<p>He stooped and took her happy upturned face with its crown of wavy
+golden hair between his hands, looking fondly down at her. The thought
+of all that he might so soon lose swept in upon him with a sickening
+agony, and he turned away with trembling lips and dim eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"God grant that they may not!" he cried passionately. "If it were to
+come now, how could I bear it to the end?"</p>
+
+<p>They walked on in silence. Then she who had, or thought she had, so much
+more reason to be hopeful than he, dashed the tears away from her eyes,
+and talked hopefully. They would not dare to lay a finger upon Bernard
+Maddison, whatever they might have done to poor Mr. Brown. His great
+name would protect him from suspicion. And as he listened to her he had
+not the heart to tell her of the men who had followed him abroad, that
+he was even then doubtless under surveillance. He let her talk on, and
+feigned to share her hopefulness.</p>
+
+<p>The time came when they passed into the grounds of the Court, and then
+she thought of something else which she must say to him.</p>
+
+<p>"We have a visitor, Bernard&mdash;only one; but I'm afraid you don't like
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Something told him who it was. He stopped short in the path.</p>
+
+<p>"Not Sir Allan Beaumerville?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm so sorry. He invited himself; and there is something I must
+tell you about him."</p>
+
+<p>His first instinct was to refuse to go on, but it was gone in a moment,
+after one glance into Helen's troubled face.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't look so ashamed," he said, smiling faintly. "I'm not afraid of
+him. What is it you were going to tell me about him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He went out the other day alone, to do some botanizing," she said. "Do
+you know where I saw him?"</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"No. Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"In your cottage. I saw him sitting at your table, and I saw him come
+out. He looked terribly troubled, just as though he had found out
+something."</p>
+
+<p>He seemed in no wise so much disturbed as she had feared.</p>
+
+<p>"It's astonishing how many people are interested in my affairs," he said
+with grim lightness.</p>
+
+<p>"No one so much as I am," she whispered softly. "Bernard, I must tell
+you something about papa. I had almost forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Has he been exercising a landlord's privilege, too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not, sir. But, Bernard, people have been talking, and he has
+heard them, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her face grew troubled, and he stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"He suspects, too, does he? Then I certainly cannot force him to become
+my host."</p>
+
+<p>She took hold of both of his hands, and looked up at him pleadingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be stupid, Bernard, dear, please. I didn't say that he suspected.
+Only people have been talking, and of course it leaves an impression.
+You must make friends with him, you know. Won't you have something to
+ask him&mdash;some day&mdash;perhaps?"</p>
+
+<p>She turned away, blushing a little, and he was conquered.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, love, I will come then," he said. "Only, please, you must go
+and tell him directly we get there; and if he would rather not have me
+for a guest, you must come and let me know. I will sit at no man's table
+under protest," he added, with a sudden flush of pride.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll be very pleased to have you," she said simply. "A few words from
+me will be quite enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Your empire extends further than over my heart, I see," he said,
+laughing. "There is your father coming round from the stables. Suppose
+we go to him."</p>
+
+<p>They met him face to face in the hall. When he saw who his daughter's
+companion was he looked for a moment grave. But he had all the courtly
+instincts of a gentleman of the old school, and though outside he might
+have acted differently, the man was under his own roof now, and must be
+treated as a guest. Besides, he had implicit faith in his daughter's
+judgment. So he held out his hand without hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to see you, Mr. Maddison. We began to fear that you had deserted
+us," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been away longer than I intended," Bernard Maddison answered
+quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you dine here," Mr. Thurwell continued, moving away. "You'll
+find Beaumerville in the library or the smoke room. You know your way
+about, don't you? My gamekeeper wants to speak to me for a moment. I
+shan't be long."</p>
+
+<p>He crossed the hall, and entered his own room. Helen slipped her arm
+through her lover's, and led him away in the opposite direction, down a
+long passage to the other end of the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Consider yourself highly favored, sir," she said, pausing with her hand
+upon one of the furthest doors. "You are the only male being, except my
+father, who has ever been admitted here."</p>
+
+<p>She led him into a daintily furnished morning room, full of all those
+trifling indications of a woman's constant presence which possesses for
+the man who loves her a peculiar and almost reverent interest. There
+was her fancy work lying where she had put it down on the little wicker
+table, a book with a paper knife in it, one of his own; by its side an
+open piano, with a little pile of songs on the stool, and a sleek
+dachshund blinking up at them from the hearthrug. The appointments of
+the room were simple enough, and yet everything seemed to speak of a
+culture, a refinement, and withal a dainty feminine charm which appealed
+to him both as an artist and a lover. She drew an easy chair to the
+fire, and when he was seated, came and stood over him.</p>
+
+<p>"I expect you to like my room, sir," she said softly. "Do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is like you," he answered; "it is perfect."</p>
+
+<p>They were together for half an hour, and then the dressing bell sounded.
+She jumped up at once from her little low chair by his side.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go and give orders about your room," she said. "Of course you
+will stop with us. I have made up my mind where to put you. Roberts
+shall come and take you to your room in a few moments."</p>
+
+<p>"Dressing will be a farce for me," he remarked. "I have no clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we'll forgive you," she laughed. "Of course you were too anxious
+to get here to think about clothes. That was quite as it should be.
+Good-by! Don't be dull."</p>
+
+<p>He was alone only for a few minutes. Then a servant knocked at the door
+and took him to his room. He looked around him, and saw more evidences
+of her care for him. In the sitting room, which opened on one side, was
+a great bowl of freshly cut flowers, a pile of new books, and a
+photograph of herself. The rooms were the finest in the house. The oak
+paneled walls were hung with tapestry, and every piece of furniture was
+an antique curiosity. It was a bedchamber for a prince, and indeed a
+royal prince had once slept in the quaint high four-poster with its
+carved oak pillars and ancient hangings.</p>
+
+<p>To Bernard Maddison, as he strolled round and examined his surroundings,
+it all seemed like a dream&mdash;so delightful, that awakening was a thing to
+be dreaded indeed. The loud ringing of the second bell, however, soon
+brought him back to the immediate present. He hastily made such
+alterations in his toilet as were possible, and descended. In the hall
+he met Helen, who had changed her dress for a soft cream-colored dinner
+gown, and was waiting for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you like your room?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Like it? It is perfect," he answered quietly. "I had no idea that
+Thurwell was so old. I like you, too," he added, glancing approvingly at
+her and taking her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"No time for compliments, sir," she said, laughing. "We must go into the
+drawing-room; Sir Allan is there alone."</p>
+
+<p>He followed her across the hall, and entered the room with her. Sir
+Allan, with his back to them, was seated at the piano, softly playing an
+air of Chopin's to himself. At the sound of the opening door, he turned
+round.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Allan, you see we have found another visitor to take pity on us,"
+Helen said. "You know Mr. Maddison, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>The music, which Sir Allan had been continuing with his right hand, came
+to a sudden end, and for the space of a few seconds he remained
+perfectly motionless. Then he rose and bowed slightly.</p>
+
+<p>"I have that pleasure," he said quietly. "Mr. Maddison is a neighbor of
+yours, is he not? I met him, you know, on a certain very melancholy
+occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you go on playing?" she asked, sinking down on a low settee; "we
+should like to listen."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down again, and with half-closed eyes recommenced the air. Helen
+and Bernard Maddison, sitting side by side, spoke every now and then to
+one another in a low tone. There was no general conversation until Mr.
+Thurwell entered, and then dinner was announced almost immediately.</p>
+
+<p>There was no lack of conversation then. At first it had lain chiefly
+between Mr. Thurwell and Sir Allan Beaumerville, but catching a somewhat
+anxious glance from Helen, her lover suddenly threw off his silence.
+"When Maddison talks," one of his admirers had once said, "everyone else
+listens"; and if that was not quite so in the present case, it was
+simply because he had the art of drawing whoever he chose into the
+conversation, and making them appear far greater sharers in it than they
+really were. What was in truth a monologue seemed to be a brilliantly
+sustained conversation, in which Maddison himself was at once the
+promoter and the background. On his part there was not a single faulty
+phrase or unmusical expression. Every idea he sprang upon them was
+clothed in picturesque garb, and artistically conceived. It was the
+outpouring of a richly stored, cultured mind&mdash;the perfect expression of
+perfect matter.</p>
+
+<p>The talk had drifted toward Italy, and the art of the Renaissance. Mr.
+Thurwell had made some remark upon the picturesque beauties of some of
+the lesser-known towns in the north, and Bernard Maddison had taken up
+the theme with a new enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"I am but just come back from such a one," he said. "I wonder if I could
+describe it."</p>
+
+<p>And he did describe it. He told them of the crumbling palaces, beautiful
+in their perfect Venetian architecture, but still more beautiful now in
+their slow, grand decay, in which was all the majesty of deep repose
+teeming with suggestions of past glories. He spoke of the still, clear
+air, the delicate tints of the softened landscape, the dark cool green
+of the olive trees, the green vineyards, and the dim blue hills. He
+tried to make them understand the sweet silence, the pastoral simplicity
+of the surrounding country, delicate and airy when the faint sunlight of
+early morning lay across its valleys and sloping vineyards, rich and
+drowsy and languorous when the full glow of midday or the scented
+darkness of the starlit night succeeded. Then he passed on to speak of
+that garden&mdash;the fairest wilderness it was possible to conceive&mdash;where
+the violets grew like weeds upon the moss-grown paths, and brilliant
+patches of wild geraniums mingled their perfume with the creamy clematis
+run wild, and the clustering japonica.</p>
+
+<p>"She who lives there," he went on more slowly, turning from Helen toward
+Sir Allan, "is in perfect accord with everything that is sweet and
+stately and picturesque in her surroundings. I see her now as she met me
+in the garden, and stretched out her hands to greet me. It is the face,
+the form of a martyr and an angel. She is tall, and her garb is one of
+stately simplicity. Her hair is white as snow, and the lines of her face
+are wasted with sorrow and physical decay. Yet there is sweetness and
+softness and light in her worn features&mdash;aye, and more almost than a
+human being's share of that exquisite spirituality which is the reward
+only of those who have triumphed over pain and suffering and sin. Guido
+would have given the world for such a face. Little does an artist think
+at what cost such an expression is won. Through the fires of shame and
+bitter wrong, of humiliation and heart-shattering agony, the human cross
+has fallen away, and the gold of her nature shines pure and refined. God
+grant to those who have wronged her, those at whose door her sin lies,
+as happy a deathbed as hers will be. Sir Allan, I am boring you, I fear.
+We will change the subject."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all. I have been&mdash;very interested," Sir Allan answered in a low
+tone, pouring himself out a glass of wine, and raising it to lips as
+white as the camellia in his buttonhole.</p>
+
+<p>"We are all interested," Helen said softly. "Did you stay with her?"</p>
+
+<p>"For three days," he answered. "Then, because I could not bring myself
+to tell her the news which I had gone all that way to impart, I came
+away."</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's silence. A servant who had just entered the room
+whispered in Mr. Thurwell's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"Two gentlemen wish to speak to you, Mr. Maddison," he said, repeating
+the message. "Where have you shown them, Roberts?&mdash;in the library?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wished to do so, sir," the man replied, "but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He glanced over his shoulder. Every one looked toward the door. Just
+outside were two dark figures. To three people at the table the truth
+came like a flash.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan sat quite still, with his eyes fixed upon Bernard Maddison,
+who had risen to his feet, pale as death, with rigidly compressed lips,
+and nervously grasping his napkin. Helen, too, had risen, with a look of
+horror in her white face, and her eyes fastened upon her lover. Mr.
+Thurwell looked from one to the other, not comprehending the situation.
+The whole scene, the glittering table laden with flowers and wine, the
+wondering servant, the attitude and faces of the four people, and the
+dark figures outside, would have made a marvelous tableau.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the silence was broken by a low agonized cry. Helen had thrown
+her arms with a sudden impulsive gesture around her lover's neck.</p>
+
+<p>"My love, my love!" she cried, "it is I who have done this thing. They
+shall not take you from me&mdash;they shall not!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>ARRESTED</h3>
+
+
+<p>As is often the case, the person most concerned in the culmination of
+this scene was apparently the least agitated, and the first to recover
+his self-possession. Gently loosening Helen's arms from around him,
+Bernard Maddison walked steadily toward the door, and confronted his
+visitors. One was his fellow-passenger from London, the other a tall,
+wiry-looking man, who was standing with his hat under his arm, and his
+hands in the pocket of a long traveling coat.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Bernard Maddison," he said quietly. "What is your business with
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry, sir, that it is rather unpleasant," the man answered,
+lowering his voice. "It is my duty to arrest you under this warrant,
+charging you with the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of
+August last year. Please do not make any answer to the charge, as
+anything that is now said by you or anyone present, in connection with
+it, can be used in evidence against you."</p>
+
+<p>"I am ready to go with you at once," he answered. "The sooner we get
+away the better. I have no luggage here, so I do not need to make any
+preparations."</p>
+
+<p>He felt a hand on his arm, and turned round. Mr. Thurwell had recovered
+from his first stupefaction, and had come to his side. Close behind
+him, Sir Allan Beaumerville was standing, pale as death, and with a
+curious glitter in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Maddison, what is this?" Mr. Thurwell asked gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"I am arrested on a charge of murdering Sir Geoffrey Kynaston at your
+shooting party last year," Bernard Maddison answered quietly. "I make no
+reply to the charge, save that I am not guilty. I am sorry that this
+should have occurred at your house. Had I received any intimation of it,
+I would not have come here. As it is, I can only express my regret."</p>
+
+<p>Although in some respects a plain man, there was a certain innate
+dignity of carriage and deportment which always distinguished Bernard
+Maddison among other men. Never had it been more apparent than at that
+moment. There was unconscious hauteur in his manner of meeting this
+awful charge, in his tone, and in the perfect calm of his demeanor,
+which was more powerful than any vehement protestations could have been.
+Mr. Thurwell had long had his doubts, and very uneasy doubts, concerning
+this matter, but at that moment he felt ashamed of them. He made up his
+mind on impulse, but what he said he meant and adhered to.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you, Mr. Maddison," he said cordially, holding out his hand.
+"I think that the charge is absurd. In any case, please reckon me
+amongst your friends. If there is no one else whom you would prefer to
+see, I will go and get Dewes down from town in the morning."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Bernard Maddison showed some slight sign of emotion.
+He took Mr. Thurwell's hand, but did not speak for a moment. Then, as
+they stood there in a little group, Helen glided up to them with a
+faint smile on her lips, and a strange look in her white face.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," she said, "thank God for those words!"</p>
+
+<p>Then she turned to her lover, and gave him both her hands, looking up at
+him through a mist of tears, but still with that ghostly smile upon her
+parted lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Bernard," she said softly, "you know that I have no doubts. You must go
+now, but it will not be for long. You will come back to us, and we shall
+be glad to see you. You need not trouble about me. See, I am quite calm.
+It is because I have no fear."</p>
+
+<p>He stooped and kissed her hands, but she held up her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Kiss me, Bernard," she said softly. "Father," she added, turning half
+round toward him, "I love him. We should have told you everything
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell bowed his head, and turned away to speak to the detectives,
+who had remained discreetly outside the door. Sir Allan returned to his
+seat, and poured himself out a glass of wine. For a moment they were all
+alone, and he held her hands tightly.</p>
+
+<p>"This will all come right, love," she whispered softly; "and it will
+make no difference, will it? Promise me that when it is over you will
+come straight to me. Promise me that, and I will be brave. If you do
+not, I shall break my heart."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I promise it," he answered, with a slight tremble in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>But looking at him anxiously, she was not satisfied. His white face,
+firm and resolute though it was, had a certain despair in it which
+chilled her. The hopefulness of her words seemed to have found no echo
+in his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," she whispered, "it will all come right."</p>
+
+<p>His expression changed, but the effort of it was visible. His smile was
+forced, and his words, light though they were, troubled her.</p>
+
+<p>"We must hope so. Nay, it will come right, dear. Wish me good-by now, or
+rather, <i>au revoir</i>. My guardians will be getting impatient."</p>
+
+<p>They were virtually alone, and he drew from her lips one long,
+passionate kiss. Then, with a few cheerful words, he turned resolutely
+away. Mr. Thurwell, who had been waiting outside, came to him at once.</p>
+
+<p>"The brougham is at the door," he said, with an anxious glance at Helen,
+who was leaning back against a chair, her hands locked in one another,
+ghastly pale, and evidently on the point of fainting. "These men have
+only an open trap, and it is a cold drive across the moor. To-morrow you
+go to York to be brought before the magistrates. I shall be there."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very good," Bernard Maddison said earnestly; "but, so far as
+defence is concerned, I will have no lawyer's aid. What little there is
+to be said, I will say myself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"It does not do," he said. "But there will be time to consider that. The
+magistrates will be sure to commit you for trial. They must have
+evidence enough for that, or Mr. Malcolm would never have signed the
+warrant against anyone in your position."</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite prepared for that," he answered. "Let us go."</p>
+
+<p>They left the room at once. Helen had fainted in her chair. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville had apparently disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>They stood on the doorstep for a moment while the carriage, which had
+been driven a little way down the avenue to quiet the mettlesome horses,
+returned, and Mr. Thurwell spoke a few more encouraging words.</p>
+
+<p>"Jenkins has packed some things of mine, which may be useful to you, in
+a portmanteau," he said. "You will find it in the carriage, and also an
+ulster. Keep up your spirits, Maddison. All will be well."</p>
+
+<p>"At any rate, I shall never forget your kindness," Bernard Maddison
+answered, grasping his hand. "Good-by, Mr. Thurwell!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, Maddison, good night! I shall see you to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>The impatient horses leaped forward, and Mr. Thurwell turned back into
+the hall, and made his way back into the dining room. Helen had
+recovered sufficiently to be able to go to her room, he was told. Sir
+Allan was still sitting at the table, quietly sipping a cup of coffee.
+His legs were crossed, and he was smoking one of his favorite Egyptian
+cigarettes.</p>
+
+<p>"Has he gone?" he said, looking round languidly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell frowned. He was a man of somewhat imperturbable manners
+himself, but he was far from being unfeeling, and Sir Allan's silence
+and non-expression of any sympathy toward Bernard Maddison annoyed him
+not a little.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's gone," he answered shortly. "I can't believe that there's
+the slightest vestige of truth in that ridiculous charge. The man is
+innocent; I'm sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe he's guilty myself," he answered; "but one never
+knows."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+
+<h3>COMMITTED FOR TRIAL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Early on the following morning Mr. Thurwell ordered his dog cart, and
+drove into Mallory. The arrest of Bernard Maddison had been kept quite
+secret, and nothing was known as yet of the news which was soon to throw
+the little town into a state of great excitement. But in the immediate
+vicinity of the courthouse there was already some stir. The lord
+lieutenant's carriage was drawn up outside, and there was an unusual
+muster of magistrates. As a rule the cases brought before their
+jurisdiction were trivial in the extreme, consisting chiefly of
+drunkenness, varied by an occasional petty assault. There was scarcely
+one of them who remembered having sat upon so serious a charge. Lord
+Lathon came over to Mr. Thurwell directly he entered the retiring room.</p>
+
+<p>"You have heard of this matter, I suppose?" he inquired, as they shook
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely. "He was arrested at my house last
+night."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't believe the thing possible," Lord Lathon continued. "Still,
+from what I hear, we shall certainly have to send it for trial."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid you will," Mr. Thurwell answered. "I shall not sit myself;
+I am prejudiced."</p>
+
+<p>"In his favor or the reverse?" his lordship inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"In his favor, decidedly," Mr. Thurwell answered, passing out behind the
+others, and taking a seat in the body of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The general impatience was doomed to be aggravated. The first prisoner
+was an old man charged with assaulting his wife. The bench listened for
+a few minutes to her garrulous tale, and managed to gather from it that
+a caution from their worships was what she chiefly desired. Having
+arrived at this point, Lord Lathon ruthlessly stopped her, and dismissed
+the case, with a few stern words to the elderly reprobate, who departed
+muttering threats against his better half which, for her bodily comfort,
+it is to be hoped that he did not put into execution.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a few minutes' expectation, at the conclusion of which
+Bernard Maddison was brought in between two policemen, very calm and
+self-possessed, but very pale. Directly he appeared Mr. Thurwell rose
+and shook hands with him, a friendly demonstration which brought a faint
+glow into his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>He was offered a chair, and the services of the solicitor of the place,
+the latter of which he declined. Then the chief constable, a little
+flurried and nervous at the unwonted importance of his office, rose, and
+addressed the bench.</p>
+
+<p>The case against the prisoner was, he said, still altogether incomplete,
+and he had only one witness, whose evidence, however, he felt sure,
+would be such as to justify their sending the matter to be decided
+before a judicial tribunal. No doubt they all remembered the painful
+circumstances of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's death, and the mystery with
+which it was surrounded. That death took place within a stone's throw of
+the cottage where the prisoner was then living, under an assumed name,
+and more than three miles away from any other dwelling place or refuge
+of any sort. He reminded them of the speedy search that had been made,
+and its extraordinary non-success. Under those circumstances a certain
+amount of suspicion naturally attached itself to the prisoner, and a
+search warrant was duly applied for, and duly carried out. At that time
+nothing suspicious was discovered, owing in some measure, he was bound
+to say, to the scrupulous delicacy with which the magistrate who had
+signed it&mdash;looking toward Mr. Thurwell&mdash;had insisted upon its being
+carried out. Subsequently, however, and acting upon later information,
+Detective Robson of Scotland Yard was appointed to look into the case,
+and the result of his investigation was the issuing of the warrant under
+which the prisoner stood charged with the murder of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. Their worships would hear the evidence of Detective Robson,
+who was now present.</p>
+
+<p>Detective Robson stepped forward, and was sworn. On the 15th of June
+last, he said, he searched the prisoner's cottage on the Thurwell Court
+estate. He there found in the secret recess of a cabinet, which had
+apparently not been opened for some time, a dagger, produced, in a case
+evidently intended to hold two, and which was an exact facsimile of the
+one, also produced, with which the murder was committed. He found also a
+towel, produced, which was stained with blood, and several letters. With
+regard to the towel, he here added, that in one corner of the room was
+fixed a small basin, and on the floor just beneath, covered over by a
+carpet, and bearing several signs of attempted obliteration, was a large
+blood stain. The woman who had cleaned the cottage prior to Mr.
+Maddison's occupation, was in court, and would swear that the stain in
+question was not there at that time. He mentioned these details first,
+he went on to say, but the more important part of his evidence had
+reference to these letters, and his subsequent action with regard to
+them. He would call attention to one of them, he remarked, producing it,
+and allow the bench to draw their own conclusions. He would read it to
+them, and they could then examine it for themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The thin rustling sheet of foreign notepaper, which he held in his hand,
+was covered closely with delicate feminine handwriting, and emitted a
+faint sweet perfume. For the first time during the hearing of the case
+Bernard Maddison showed some slight emotion as the letters were handed
+about. But he restrained it immediately.</p>
+
+<p>The sentence which Detective Robson read out was as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Bernard, those who have sinned against their fellow creatures, and
+against their God, may surely be left to His judgment. The
+vengeance which seeks to take life is a cruel bloodthirsty passion
+which no wrong can excuse, no suffering justify. Forgive me if I
+seem to dwell so much upon this. That terrible oath which, at his
+bidding, I heard you swear against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston rings ever
+in my ears!"</p></div>
+
+<p>There were other sentences of a somewhat similar nature. As Mr. Thurwell
+listened to them he felt his heart sink. What could avail against such
+evidence as this?</p>
+
+<p>There was no hesitation at all on the part of the magistrates. Bernard
+Maddison had pleaded "not guilty," but had declined to say another
+word. "Anything there is to be said on my behalf," he remarked quietly,
+in answer to a question from the bench, "I will say myself to the jury
+before whom I presume you will send me."</p>
+
+<p>While the committal was being made out, Mr. Thurwell leaned over and
+whispered to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Helen sends her love. I will arrange about the defence, and will try
+and see you myself before the trial."</p>
+
+<p>"You need send no lawyer to me," he answered. "I shall defend myself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell said no more. He was a little dazed by those letters, but
+he was not going to allow himself to be influenced by them, for his
+daughter's sake, as well as his own. He did not like to admit himself in
+the wrong, and he had made up his mind that this man was innocent.
+Innocent he must therefore be proved. As to his defending himself, that
+was all nonsense. He would see to that. Dewes should be instructed.</p>
+
+<p>The committal was read out, and Bernard Maddison was removed from the
+court. On the following day he was to be taken to York, there to be
+tried at the forthcoming assizes. Mr. Thurwell bade him keep up his
+courage in a tone which, though it was intended to be cheerful, was not
+particularly sanguine. There was but one opinion in the court, and
+despite all his efforts its influence had a certain effect upon him. But
+Bernard Maddison never carried himself more proudly than when he bowed
+to Lord Lathon, and left the court that morning.</p>
+
+<p>At home Helen was eagerly waiting for the news. She had no need to ask,
+for her father's face was eloquent.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it&mdash;very bad?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>He looked away from her with a queer feeling in his throat. To see his
+daughter, who had always been so quiet, and self-contained, and
+dignified&mdash;his princess, he had been used to call her&mdash;to see her
+trembling with nervous fear, was a new and terrible thing to him, and to
+be able to offer her no comfort was worse still. But what could he say?</p>
+
+<p>"The evidence was rather bad," he admitted, "and only a portion of it
+was produced. Still, we must hope for the best."</p>
+
+<p>"Please tell me all about it," she begged, very quietly, but with a look
+in her white face which made him turn away from her with a groan. But he
+obeyed, and told her everything. And then there was a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>"How did he look?" she asked, after a while.</p>
+
+<p>"Very pale; but he behaved in a most dignified manner throughout," he
+told her. "He must be well born. I wonder what or where his people are?
+I never heard of any of them. Did you?"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"He told me once that he had no friends, and no relations, and no name
+save the one which he had made for himself," she said. "I don't know
+whether he meant that Maddison was not his real name, or whether he
+meant simply his reputation."</p>
+
+<p>"There must be people in London who know all about him," Mr. Thurwell
+remarked. "A man of his celebrity can scarcely conceal his family
+history."</p>
+
+<p>Helen had walked a little away, and was standing before the window,
+looking out with listless eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, I wonder whether Sir Allan Beaumerville has anything to do with
+this?" she said. "Has he ever hinted to you that he suspected Mr.
+Maddison?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," he answered. "Why do you ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because one afternoon last week I saw him come out of Falcon's Nest. It
+was the afternoon he went botanizing."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"The detective mentioned the date of his visit and search," he said. "It
+was a month ago."</p>
+
+<p>She wrung her hands, and turned away in despair.</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been through those dreadful people I went to," she sobbed.
+"Oh, I was mad&mdash;mad!"</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely think that," Mr. Thurwell said thoughtfully. "They would not
+have kept altogether in the background and let Scotland Yard take the
+lead, if it had been so. What is it, Roberts?"</p>
+
+<p>The servant had entered bearing an orange-colored envelope on a salver,
+which he carried towards Helen.</p>
+
+<p>"A telegram for Miss Thurwell, sir," he said.</p>
+
+<p>She took it and tore it open. It was from the Strand, London, and the
+color streamed into her cheeks as she read it aloud.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"We must see you at once in the interests of B. M. Can you call on
+us to-morrow morning? Levy &amp; Son."</p></div>
+
+<p>"When are the assizes at York, father?" she asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"In ten days."</p>
+
+<p>"And you are going to London to-day, are you not, to see Dewes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will go with you," she said, crumpling up the telegram in her
+hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. LEVY PROMISES TO DO HIS BEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Once more Mr. Benjamin Levy trod the pavement of Piccadilly and the
+Strand, and was welcomed back again amongst his set with acclamations
+and many noisy greetings. One more unit was added to the vast army of
+London youth who pass their time in the fascinating but ignominious
+occupation of aping the "man about town" in a very small way. And
+Benjamin Levy, strange to say, was happy, for the life suited him
+exactly. He had brains and money enough to be regarded, in a certain
+measure, as one of their leaders, and to be looked up to as a power
+amongst them, and it was a weakness of his disposition that he preferred
+this to being a nonentity of a higher type.</p>
+
+<p>Certain of his particular cronies had organized a small supper at a
+middle-class restaurant on the previous night in honor of his return,
+and as a natural consequence Mr. Benjamin Levy walked down the Strand at
+about half-past ten on the following morning, on his way to the office,
+a little paler than usual, and with a suspicion of a "head." It would
+have suited him very much better to have remained in bed for an hour or
+two, and risen towards afternoon; but business was business, and it must
+be attended to. So he tried to banish the effects of the bad champagne
+imbibed on the previous night with a stiff glass of brandy and soda, and
+lighting a fresh cigarette, turned off the Strand and made his way to
+the office.</p>
+
+<p>"Guv'nor in?" he inquired of the solitary clerk, a sharp-featured,
+Jewish-looking young man, who was sitting on a high stool with his hands
+in his pockets, apparently unburdened with stress of work.</p>
+
+<p>The youth nodded, and jerked his head backwards.</p>
+
+<p>"Something's up!" he remarked laconically; "he's on the rampage."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin passed on without remark, and entered the inner office. It
+was easy indeed to see that something had gone wrong. Mr. Levy was
+walking restlessly up and down, with a newspaper in his hand, and
+muttering to himself in a disturbed manner. At his son's entrance he
+stopped short, and looked at him angrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Benjamin, my boy," he said, rustling the paper before his face, "you've
+been made a fool of. Scotland Yard have licked us!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin yawned, and tilted his hat on the back of his head.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up now, guv'nor?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>His father laid the paper flat on the desk before him, and pointed to
+one of the paragraphs with trembling fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"Read that! Read that!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>His obedient son glanced at it, and pushed the paper away in contempt.</p>
+
+<p>"Stale news," he remarked shortly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy looked at him amazed.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe you knew all about it," he remarked a little sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>"May be I did," was the cool reply.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet you have let them be beforehand with us!" Mr. Levy exclaimed
+angrily. "If this was to be done, why did we not do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because we've got a better game to play," answered the junior partner
+of the firm, with a hardly restrained air of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy regarded his son with a look of astonishment, which speedily
+changed into one of admiration.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this true, Benjamin?" he asked. "But&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't understand," Benjamin interrupted impatiently. "Of course
+you don't. And you'll have to wait a bit for an explanation, too, for
+here's the very person I was expecting," he added, raising himself on
+his stool, and looking out of the window. "Now, father, just you sit
+quiet, and don't say a word," he went on quickly. "Leave it all to me;
+I'll pull the thing through."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy had only time to express by a pantomimic sign his entire
+confidence in his son's diplomacy before Miss Thurwell was announced.
+She was shown in at once.</p>
+
+<p>"I had your telegram," she began hurriedly. "What does it mean? Can you
+do anything?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin placed a chair for her, and took up his favorite position
+on the hearthrug.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so, Miss Thurwell," he said quietly. "First of all, of course
+you are aware that Mr. Maddison's arrest was as much of a surprise to us
+as to any one. We neither had any hand in it, nor should we have dreamed
+of taking any step of the sort."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it could not be you," she answered. "How do you think it came
+about?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Levy, junior, shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite in the ordinary course," he answered. "So I should think. The
+police have never let the matter really drop, and I should imagine that
+he had been watched for some time. How it came to pass, however, it is
+not worth while discussing now. The question with you, I presume,
+is&mdash;can he be saved?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is it," Helen answered quietly, but with deep intensity. "Can
+he be saved? Do you know anything? Can you help?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Benjamin Levy cleared his throat, and appeared to reflect for a
+moment or two. Then he turned towards Helen, and commenced speaking
+earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Miss Thurwell," he said, "your interest in this matter is,
+of course, a personal one. Mine, on the other hand, is naturally a
+business one. You understand that?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I understand that," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us put it on a business basis, then," he went on. "The question is,
+what will you give us to get Mr. Maddison off? That's putting it baldly;
+but we've no time to waste mincing matters."</p>
+
+<p>"I will give you one&mdash;two thousand pounds, if you can do it," she said,
+her voice trembling with eagerness. "Will that be enough?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two thousand five hundred&mdash;the five hundred for expenses," Mr. Benjamin
+said firmly. "Father, make out a paper, and Miss Thurwell will sign it."</p>
+
+<p>"At once," she answered, drawing off her glove. "Mr. Levy, you have some
+hope! You know something. Tell me about it, please," she begged.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell," he said, "at present I can tell you no more than this.
+I really think that I shall be able in a short time to upset the whole
+case against Mr. Maddison. I can't tell you more at present. Let me
+have your address, and you shall hear from me."</p>
+
+<p>She had signed her name to the document which Mr. Levy had drawn up, and
+she now wrote her address. Mr. Benjamin copied the latter into his
+pocket-book, and prepared to show his visitor out.</p>
+
+<p>"I really don't think that you need be very anxious, Miss Thurwell," he
+said hopefully. "At present things look bad enough, but I think that
+when the time comes, I shall be able to throw a different light upon
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she answered, dropping her veil. "You will let me know
+immediately you have definite news?"</p>
+
+<p>"Immediately, Miss Thurwell. You may rely upon that. Good-morning!"</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door after her, and, returning to his seat, scribbled
+something on a piece of paper. Then he rang the bell.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Morrison about?" he asked the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Been in and gone. Round at the Golden Sun, if wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"Take him this slip of paper," ordered Benjamin, "and tell him to keep a
+keen watch on the person whose name and address are there. Understand?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy nodded, and withdrew. Then Mr. Benjamin looked across at his
+father.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, guv'nor?" he remarked laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"Benjamin," his fond parent replied with enthusiasm, "you are indeed a
+jewel of a son."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I am," Benjamin replied modestly. "Come out and have a drink."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>BERNARD A PRISONER</h3>
+
+
+<p>The arrest and committal of Bernard Maddison on a charge of murder
+created the most profound sensation in every circle of English society.
+His work, abstruse and scholarly though some of it was, had appealed to
+a great reading public, and had made his name like a household word.
+That long deep cry for a larger and sweeter culture which had been
+amongst the signs of this troubled generation, had found its most
+perfect and adequate expression in his works. He had been at once its
+interpreter and its guide. There were thoughtful men and women, a great
+mixed class, who, in their own minds, reckoned themselves as his
+apostles, and acknowledged no other intellectual master. Some were of
+the highest rank of society, others of the very lowest. It was a
+literary republic of which he had been the unacknowledged dictator,
+containing all those whose eyes had been in any way opened, who had felt
+stirring even faintly within them that instinct of mind-development and
+expansion to which his work seemed peculiarly fitted to minister. And
+so, although his career as an apostle of culture had been but a short
+one, he was already the leader of a school whose tenets it would have
+been a heresy to modern taste to doubt or question.</p>
+
+<p>The news of this tragical event, therefore, fell like a thunderbolt
+upon society, eclipsing every other topic in the newspapers, in
+conversation, and general interest. The first instinct of every one
+appeared to be to look upon the whole affair as a ludicrous piece of
+mismanagement on the part of the police, and Scotland Yard came in for a
+good deal of scathing criticism, as is usual in such cases. But when the
+evidence before the magistrates was carefully read, and sundry other
+little matters discussed, men's tongues began to run less glibly. Of
+course it was impossible that it could be true; and yet the evidence was
+certainly strong. In the country generally the first impulse of generous
+disbelief was followed by a period of pained and reserved expectancy. In
+clubdom, where neither fear of the devil nor love of God had yet been
+able to keep the modern man of the world from discussing freely any
+subject interesting to him, a gradual but sure reaction against the
+possibilities of his innocence set in.</p>
+
+<p>There were plenty of men about still who remembered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and the peculiar manner of his life. During his long absence
+from England there had been many rumors about, concerning its reason,
+and now these were all suddenly revived. The breach of a certain
+commandment, a duel at Boulogne, and many other similar adventures were
+freely spoken of. After all, this story, improbable though it sounded,
+was far from impossible. It had always been reckoned a little mysterious
+that nothing whatever had been known of Bernard Maddison's antecedents,
+great though had been his fame, and assiduous his interviewers. As all
+these things began slowly to fit themselves together, men commenced to
+look grave, and to avoid the subject in the presence of their
+woman-kind, who were one and all unswerving in their loyalty to that
+dear, delightful Bernard Maddison, who had written those exquisite
+books. But in the smoking-room and among themselves views were gradually
+adopted which it would have been heresy to avow in the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>No man appeared to take less interest in the event and the discussion
+of it than Sir Allan Beaumerville. Known generally amongst his
+acquaintances as a cynic and pessimist, men were pretty sure what his
+opinion would be. But he never expressed it. Whenever he strolled up to
+any group in the smoking-room or library of the club, and found them
+discussing the Maddison murder case, he turned on his heel and walked
+another way. If it were broached in his presence it was the signal for
+his retirement, and any question concerning it he refused point-blank to
+answer. Gradually the idea sprang up, and began to circulate, that Sir
+Allan Beaumerville had formed an idea of his own concerning the Maddison
+murder, and that it was one which he intended to keep to himself. Every
+one was curious about it, but in the face of his reticence, no one cared
+to ask him what it was.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>A plain whitewashed cell, with high bare walls and tiny window, through
+which the sunlight could only struggle faintly. Only one article of
+furniture which could justly be called such, a rude wooden bedstead, and
+seated on its end with folded arms and bent head, like a man in some
+sort of stupor, sat Bernard Maddison.</p>
+
+<p>He was in that most pitiable of all states, when merciless realization
+had driven before it all apathy, all lingering hope, all save that
+deadly cold sea of absolute, unutterable despair. There had been moments
+on his first arrival here, when he had fallen into a dozing sleep, and
+had leaped up from his hard bed, and had stretched up his hands above
+his head, and had called out in agony that it must be a dream, a hideous
+nightmare from which he would awaken only to look back upon it with
+horror. And then his glazed, fearful eyes had slowly taken in his
+surroundings&mdash;the stone walls, the cold floor, the barred window&mdash;and
+pitiless memory had dragged back his thoughts amongst the vivid horrors
+of the last forty-eight hours. It was all there, written in letters of
+fire. He shrunk back upon his mattress and buried his face in his hands,
+whilst every instinct of manliness fought against the sobs which seemed
+as though they would rend to pieces his very frame.</p>
+
+<p>Once more the morning light had come, and the burning agony of the hours
+of darkness was exchanged for the cold, crushing despair of the weary
+day. They had brought his breakfast, which he had loathed and left
+untasted. And then, as he sat there, so worn out with physical and
+mental exhaustion, something of a dull miserable apathy acted like opium
+on his wearied nerves and brain. He sat there thinking.</p>
+
+<p>The great passions of the world are either our sweetest happiness or
+our most utter misery. Not unfrequently the one becomes the other.
+Circumstances may change, but the force remains, sometimes, after
+yielding us the most exquisite pleasure, to lash us with scorpion-like
+whips. The love of Bernard Maddison had thrilled through heart and
+soul&mdash;it had become not a thing of his life, but his whole life. Every
+impulse and passion of his being had yielded itself up to it. Ambition,
+intellectual visions, imaginative fancies, all these had been not indeed
+driven out by this passion, but more fatal still, they had opened their
+arms to receive it, they had bidden it welcome, and heart and brain and
+imagination had glowed with a new significance and a new-born power. A
+lesser love would have had a lesser effect; it would have made rivals of
+these other parts of himself. Not so the love of Bernard Maddison. Every
+fiber of his deep, strong nature was strengthened and beautified by this
+new-kindled fire. At that moment, had he been free to write, he would
+have been conscious of a capacity beyond any which he had ever before
+possessed. For a great nature is perfected by a great love, as the
+blossoms of spring by the April showers and May sun. The dry dust of
+scholarship sometimes chokes up the well of fancy. The perfect humanity
+of love acts like a sweet, quickening impulse upon it, breathing sweet
+soft life into dry images, and rich coloring into pallid visions. Such
+love, which is at once spiritual and passionate, of heaven and of the
+earth, absorbing and concentrative, widening and narrowing, is to a
+man's nature, if he be strong enough to conceive and appreciate it, the
+very food, the essence of sublimated life.</p>
+
+<p>To Bernard Maddison it had been so. To its very depths he realized it as
+he sat in his prison cell with something of the deep passive resignation
+of the man who stands with one foot in the grave. The latter part of his
+life&mdash;nay, the whole of it&mdash;had been full of noble dreams and pure
+thoughts. His genius had never run riot over the whole face of nature,
+to yield its fruits in a sickly sweet realism with only faint flashes of
+his deeper power. Always subordinated by the innate and cultured
+healthiness of his mind, he had sent it forth a living power for good.
+Great joy had been his as he had watched his message to the world
+listened to, and understood, and appreciated. Another age might witness
+its fruits, it was sufficient for him that the seed was rightly planted.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, the horror of it&mdash;the burning, unspeakable horror! In his ears there
+seemed to come ringing from the world without the great hum of gossip
+and lies which were dragging his name down into hell. A murderer! The
+time might come when she too would think thus of him, when the tragedy
+of her first love might fade away, and the lovelight might flash again
+in her eyes, but not for him. He shook his head wildly, stretched out
+his hands as though to hide something from his quivering face, and
+barely suppressed the groan of deep agony which trembled on his lips.
+God in His mercy keep him from such thoughts! Death, disgrace,
+surpassing humiliation, let them float in their ghostly garments before
+his shuddering gaze, but keep that thought from him, for with it madness
+moved hand in hand. As Michael Angelo had stifled his grief at Vittoria
+Colonna's death, in the sweet hope of rejoining her as soon as the last
+lingering breath should leave his mortal body, and as Dante had hoped
+for his Beatrice, so let him think of the woman without whom no human
+life was possible for him, almost, he cried out in his agony, no
+spiritual hope or longing.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of the key in the lock of his door, and the tramp of footsteps
+on the stone floor outside, awoke him with a start from his
+half-dreaming state. The thought of visitors being permitted to come had
+never occurred to him, nor did it even then. The footsteps had paused
+outside his door, but he felt no interest in them, nor ever the vaguest
+stirrings of curiosity. Then the harsh lock was turned with a grating
+sound, and two figures, followed by the prison warder, entered the
+room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>"THERE IS MY HAND. DARE YOU TAKE IT?"</h3>
+
+
+<p>There is nothing which can transport one so quickly from thoughtland to
+acute and comprehensive realization, as the sound of a human voice or
+the consciousness of a human presence. Like a flash it all came back to
+the lonely occupant of the prison cell&mdash;the personal degradation of his
+position, his surroundings, and everything connected with them. And with
+it, too, came a strong, keen desire to bear himself like a man before
+her father.</p>
+
+<p>He rose to his feet, and the pitiful bareness of the place seemed to
+become suddenly enhanced by the quiet dignity of his demeanor. Out of
+the gloom Mr. Thurwell came forward with outstretched hand, followed by
+another gentleman&mdash;a stranger. Between the two men, that one long ray of
+sunlight lay across the stone floor, and as Bernard Maddison stepped
+forward to meet his visitor, it gleamed for a moment upon his white,
+haggard face, worn and stricken, yet retaining all that quiet force and
+delicacy of expression which seemed like the index of his inward life.
+It was the face of a poet, of a dreamer, a visionary perhaps&mdash;but a
+criminal! the thing seemed impossible.</p>
+
+<p>"This is very good of you, Mr. Thurwell," he said in a low but clear
+tone. "I scarcely expected that I should be permitted to see visitors."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell grasped his hand, and held it for a moment without
+speaking. He had all an Englishman's reticence of speech in times of
+great emotion, and it seemed to him that there was nothing that he could
+say. But silence was very eloquent.</p>
+
+<p>"I have brought Mr. Dewes with me," he said at last. "He wants to see
+you about the defence, you know. The high sheriff's a friend of mine, so
+I got him to pass me in at the same time; but if you'd rather see Dewes
+alone, you'll say so, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>There had been an acute nervous force working in Bernard Maddison's face
+during that brief silence. At Mr. Thurwell's words, a change came. He
+dropped his visitor's hand, and his features were still and cold as
+marble, and almost as expressionless, save for the lightly drawn lips,
+and lowered eyebrows, which gave to his expression a fixed look of
+power.</p>
+
+<p>"That is very kind and thoughtful of you, Mr. Thurwell, and I am sorry
+that you should have had the trouble to no purpose. I have nothing to
+add to my previous decision. I will not be represented by either lawyer
+or counsel."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dewes moved forward out of the background, and bowed. He was a
+handsome, middle-aged man, looking more like a cavalry officer than a
+solicitor. But, as everyone knew, so far as criminal cases were
+concerned, he was the cleverest lawyer in London.</p>
+
+<p>"You are relying upon your innocence, of course, Mr. Maddison," he said;
+"but it is a very great mistake to suppose that it will establish itself
+without extraneous aid. You will have the Attorney-General against you,
+and you must have some one of the same caliber on your side. The old
+saying, 'Truth will out,' does not apply in an assize court. It requires
+to be dragged out. I think you will do well to accept my services.
+Roberts holds himself open to take the brief for your defence, if I wire
+him before midday."</p>
+
+<p>"I seldom change my mind," Bernard Maddison said quietly. "In the
+present case I shall not do so. If it seems to me that there is anything
+which should be said on my behalf, I shall say it myself."</p>
+
+<p>There was a short silence. Mr. Dewes looked at Mr. Thurwell, and Mr.
+Thurwell looked both perplexed and worried.</p>
+
+<p>"Maddison, you must admit that yours is an extraordinary decision," he
+said at last. "You must forgive me if I ask you in plain words what your
+reason is for it. I ask as one who is willing to be your friend in this
+matter; and I ask you as Helen's father."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden spasm of pain passed across Bernard Maddison's face. He shrunk
+back a little, and when he spoke his voice sounded hollow and strained.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not deny you the right to ask&mdash;but I cannot tell you. Simply it is
+my will. It is best so. It must be so."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you not see, Mr. Maddison," the lawyer said quietly, "that to some
+people this will seem almost like a tacit admission of guilt?"</p>
+
+<p>"I shall plead 'not guilty,'" he answered in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>"That will be looked upon only as a matter of form," Mr. Dewes remarked.
+"Mr. Maddison, I should not be doing my duty if I did not point out to
+you that the evidence against you is terribly strong. Just consider it
+yourself, only for a moment. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is known to have
+seriously wronged a member of your family. You are known to have sworn
+an oath of vengeance against him. There are witnesses coming from
+abroad to prove that. Immediately on his return to his home you take a
+cottage, under an assumed name, close to his estate. He is found
+murdered close to that cottage, of which it seems that at that time you
+were the only occupant. You are the only person known to have been near
+the spot. The dagger is proved to be yours. Letters are found in your
+cabinet urging you to desist from your threatened vengeance. There is
+the stain of blood on the floor of your study, near the place where you
+would have washed your hands, and a blood-stained towel is found hidden
+in the room. All this and more can be proved, and unless you can throw a
+fresh light upon these things, there is no jury in the world that would
+not find you guilty. You hold your fate in your own hands."</p>
+
+<p>"I have considered all this," Bernard Maddison answered in a low tone.
+"I know that my case is almost hopeless, and I am prepared for the
+worst."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell turned away, and walked to the furthermost corner of the
+apartment. For his daughter's sake, and for the sake of his own strong
+liking for this man, he had resolutely shut his eyes upon the damning
+chain of evidence against him. Now he felt that that he could do so no
+longer. Nothing but guilt could account for this strange reticence. He
+was forced to admit it at last. His compassion was still strong, but it
+was mingled with a great horror. He felt that he must get away as soon
+as possible.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dewes, who had all along had the most profound conviction of the
+guilt of the accused man seized his opportunity, and stepping close up
+to him, whispered in his ear:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Maddison, I should like to save you if I can. There have been
+cases&mdash;forgive me for suggesting it&mdash;in which, by knowing every
+circumstance and trifling detail connected with a crime, we have been
+able to build up a def&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Bernard Maddison drew himself up with a sudden hauteur, and raised his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, Mr. Dewes!" he said firmly. "I do not blame you for assuming what
+you do, but you are mistaken. I am not guilty. I do not ask you to
+believe it. I only ask you to bring this painful interview to an end."</p>
+
+<p>"We will go," said Mr. Thurwell, suddenly advancing from the other end
+of the cell. "I am not your judge, Bernard Maddison, and it is not for
+me to hold you guilty. God shall pass His own judgment upon you. There
+is my hand. Dare you take it?"</p>
+
+<p>For answer, Bernard Maddison stepped forward and clasped it in his own.
+Once more he had moved from out of the darkness, and a soft stream of
+sunshine fell upon his pallid face. White though it was, even to
+ghastliness, it betrayed no sign of blanching or fear, and his dark
+eyes, from their hollow depths, shone with a clear, steadfast light.
+Once more its calm spirituality, the effortless force which seemed to
+lurk in every line and feature of the pale wasted countenance, had its
+effect upon Mr. Thurwell. He wrung the hand which it had cost him a
+suppressed effort to take, and for the moment his doubts faded away.</p>
+
+<p>"God help you, Maddison!" he said fervently. "Shall I tell her anything
+from you?"</p>
+
+<p>A faint smile parted his tremulous lips. At that moment he was beyond
+earthly suffering. A sweet, strong power had filled his heart with
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her not to grieve, and that I am innocent," he said softly.
+"Farewell!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>MR. BENJAMIN LEVY IS BUSY</h3>
+
+
+<p>A woman stood on the little stone piazza of that Italian villa, with her
+face raised in agony to the blue sky, and her thin white hands wrung
+together with frantic nervous strength. Her whole attitude was full of
+the hopeless abandonment of a great tearless grief; and slowly dawning
+passion, long a stranger to her calm face, was creeping into her
+features. On the ground, spurned beneath her feet, was a long
+official-looking letter and envelope. A thunderbolt had flashed down
+upon the sweet stillness of her serene life.</p>
+
+<p>She was quite alone, and she looked out upon an unbroken solitude&mdash;that
+fair neglected garden with its high walls which seemed to give it an air
+of peculiar exclusiveness.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not go," she said, speaking quickly to herself in an odd, uneven
+tone. "The law of England shall not make me. I am an old woman. If they
+do, they cannot open my lips. I! to stand up in one of their courts, and
+tell the story of my shame, that they may listen and condemn my son. Oh,
+Bernard, Bernard, Bernard! The Lord have mercy upon you for this your
+crime! Mine was the sin. Mine should be the guilt. Oh, my God, my God!
+Is this just, in my old age, to pour down this fire of punishment upon
+my bowed head? Have I not suffered and done penance&mdash;ay, until I had
+even thought that I had won for myself peace and rest and forgiveness?
+Was it a sin to think so? Is this my punishment? Oh, Bernard, my son, my
+son! Let not the sin be his, O Lord. It is mine&mdash;mine only!"</p>
+
+<p>Sweet perfumes were floating upon the soft still air, and away on the
+hill sides the morning mists were rolling away. The sun's warmth fell
+upon the earth and the flowers, and birds and humming insects were glad.
+And in the midst of it all she stood there, a silent, stony figure,
+grief and anguish and despair written in her worn face. God was dealing
+very hardly with her, she cried in her agony. Truly sin was everlasting.</p>
+
+<p>"Signorina!"</p>
+
+<p>She turned round with a start. A servant girl stood by her side with a
+card on a salver.</p>
+
+<p>"A gentleman to see the signorina," she announced; "an English
+gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>The woman turned pale with fear, and her fingers trembled. She would not
+even glance at the name on the card.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell him that I see no one. I am ill. I will not see him, be his
+business what it may. Do you hear, child? Go and send him away."</p>
+
+<p>The girl curtsied and disappeared. Her mistress stepped back into the
+room, and listened fearfully. Soon there came what she had dreaded, the
+sound of an altercation. She could hear Nicolette protesting in her
+shrill <i>patois</i>, and a rather vulgar, but very determined English voice,
+vigorously asserting itself. Then there came the sound of something
+almost like a scuffle, and Nicolette came running in with red eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Signorina, the brute, the brute!" she cried; "he will come in. He dared
+to lay his hands upon me. See, he is here! Oh, that Marco had been in
+the house! He should have beaten him, the dog, the coward, to oppose a
+woman's will by force!"</p>
+
+<p>While she had been sobbing out her complaint, her assailant had followed
+up his advantage, and Mr. Benjamin Levy, in a rather loud check suit,
+and with a cringing air, but with a certain dogged determination in his
+manner, appeared. Mrs. Martival turned to him with quiet dignity, but
+with flashing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, by what right do you dare to enter my house by force, and against
+my command? I will not speak with you or know your business. I will have
+no communication with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then your son will be hanged!" Mr. Benjamin said, with unaccustomed
+bluntness.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Martival trembled, and sank into a chair. Mr. Benjamin followed up
+his advantage.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not from the police. I have no connection with them. On the other
+hand, I am considerably interested in saving your son, and I tell you
+that I can put into your hands the means of doing so. Now, will you
+listen to me?"</p>
+
+<p>Something in Mrs. Martival's face checked him. The features had suddenly
+become rigid, and an ashy pallor had stolen over them. Nicolette, who
+had been lingering in the room, suddenly threw herself on her knees
+beside her mistress's side, and caught hold of her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the wretch!" she cried, "the miserable wretch; he has killed my
+mistress!"</p>
+
+<p>He stood helplessly by while she ran backwards and forwards with cold
+water, smelling salts, and other restoratives, keeping up all the while
+a running fire of scathing comments upon his heartless conduct, of
+which, needless to say, he understood not a single word. Beneath his
+breath he cursed this unlucky fainting fit. He had already lost a day on
+the way, and the time was short. What if she were to be ill&mdash;too ill to
+be moved! The very thought made him restless and uneasy.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the confusion Mrs. Martival's housekeeper returned from
+her marketing in the little town, and to his relief he found that she
+understood English. He interrupted Nicolette's shrill torrents of abuse
+against him, and briefly explained the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not wish to force myself upon her," he said. "I do not wish to be
+troublesome in any way. But when she is conscious, I want you just to
+show her half a dozen words which I will write on the back of a card.
+If, when she has read them, she still wishes me to go, I will do so
+without attempting to see her again."</p>
+
+<p>The woman nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," she said; "wait outside."</p>
+
+<p>He left the room and walked softly up and down the passage, eyeing with
+some contempt the rich faded curtains and quaint artistic furniture
+about the place, so unlike the gilded glories of his own taste. In about
+half an hour the housekeeper came out to him.</p>
+
+<p>"She is conscious now," she said; "give me your message."</p>
+
+<p>He gave her a card on which he had already penciled a few words, and
+waited, terribly anxious, for the result. The woman withdrew, and closed
+the door. For a moment there was silence. Then a wild, fierce cry rang
+out from the room and echoed through the house. Before it had died away
+the door was flung open, and she stood on the threshold, her white hair
+streaming down her back, and every vestige of color gone from her face.
+Her eyes, too, shone with a feverish glow which fascinated him.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it you who wrote this?" she cried, holding up the card clenched in
+her trembling fingers. "If you are a man, tell me, is it true?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it is," he answered. "In my own mind, I am certain that it
+is. You are the only person who can prove it. I want you to come to
+England with me."</p>
+
+<p>"I am ready," she said. "When can we start?"</p>
+
+<p>He looked at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"I will be here in half an hour with a carriage," he said. "If we can
+get over the hills by midday, we shall catch the express."</p>
+
+<p>"Go, then," she said calmly; "I shall be waiting for you."</p>
+
+<p>He hurried away, and soon returned with a carriage from the inn. In less
+than an hour they had commenced their journey to England.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It was an early summer evening in Mayfair, and Sir Allan Beaumerville
+stood on the balcony of his bijou little house, for which he had lately
+deserted the more stately family mansion in Grosvenor Square. There was
+a soft pleasant stillness in the air, and a gentle rustling of green
+leaves among the trees. The streets below were almost blocked with
+streams of carriages and hansoms, for the season was not yet over, and
+it was fast approaching the fashionable dinner hour. Overhead, in
+somewhat curious contrast, the stars were shining in a deep cloudless
+sky, and a golden-horned moon hung down in the west.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan was himself dressed for the evening, with an orchid in his
+buttonhole, and a light overcoat on his arm. In the street, his night
+brougham, with its pair of great thoroughbred horses, stood waiting. Yet
+he made no movement toward it. He did not appear to be waiting for
+anyone, nor was he watching the brilliant throng passing westward. His
+eyes were fixed upon vacancy, and there was a certain steadfast, rapt
+look in them which altered his expression curiously. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville seldom used his powers of reflection save for practical
+purposes. Just then, however, he was departing from his usual custom.
+Strange ghosts of a strange past were flitting through his mind. Old
+passions, which had long lain undisturbed, were sweeping through him,
+old dreams were revived, old memories kindled once more smoldering
+fires, and aided at the resurrection of a former self. The cold
+man-of-the-world philosophy, which had ruled his life for many years,
+seemed suddenly conquered by this upheaval of a stormy past. Under the
+influence of the serene night, the starlit sky, and the force of these
+old memories, he seemed to realize more than he had ever done before the
+littleness of his life, its colorless egotism, the barrenness of its
+routine. Like a flash it stood glaringly out before him. Stripped of all
+its intellectual furbishing, the chill selfishness of the creed he had
+adopted struck home to his heart. A finite life, with a finite
+goal&mdash;annihilation! Had it really ever satisfied him? Could it satisfy
+anyone? A great weariness crept in upon him. Epicureanism could have
+been carried no further than he had carried it. He had steeped his
+senses in the most refined and voluptuous pleasures civilization had to
+offer him. Where was the afterglow? Was this all that remained? A palled
+appetite, a hungry heart, and a cold, chill despair! What comfort could
+his much-studied philosophy afford him? It had satisfied the brain; had
+it nothing to offer the heart? Something within him seemed to repeat the
+word with a grim echo. Nothing! nothing! nothing!</p>
+
+<p>What was it that caused his eyes to droop till they rested upon two
+figures on the opposite pavement? He could not tell whence the power,
+and yet he obeyed the impulse. They glanced over the man with
+indifference and met the woman's upturned gaize. And Sir Allan
+Beaumerville stood like a figure of stone, with a deathlike pallor in
+his marble face.</p>
+
+<p>The stream of carriages swept on, and the motley crowds of men and women
+passed on their way unnoticing. Little they knew that a tragedy was
+being played out before their very eyes. A few noticed that stately
+white-haired lady gazing strangely at the house across the way, and a
+few too saw the figure of the man on whom her eyes were bent. But no one
+could read what passed between them. That lay in their own hearts.</p>
+
+<p>Interruption came at last. Mr. Benjamin Levy's excitement mastered his
+patience. He asked the question which had been trembling on his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it he?"</p>
+
+<p>She started, and laid her hand upon his shoulder for support. She was
+very much shaken.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. See, he is beckoning. He wants me. I shall go to him. May God give
+me strength!"</p>
+
+<p>She moved forward to cross the road. He caught hold of her arm in sudden
+fear.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't think of it," he exclaimed. "You will spoil everything. I
+want you to come with me to&mdash;D&mdash;n! Come back, I say; come back! Curse
+the woman!"</p>
+
+<p>He stood on the pavement, fuming. She had glided from his grasp, and
+his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Already she was half across the
+road. The door of Sir Allan's house stood open, and a servant was
+hurrying down to meet her. At that moment Mr. Benjamin Levy felt
+distinctly ill-used.</p>
+
+<p>"D&mdash;d old fool!" he muttered to himself angrily. "Hi, hansom, Scotland
+Yard, and drive like blazes! The game's getting exciting, at any rate,"
+he added. "It was mine easy before that last move; now it's a blessed
+toss up which way it goes. Well, I'll back my luck. I rather reckon I
+stand to win still, if Miss Thurwell acts on the square."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2>
+
+<h3>A STRANGE BIRTHDAY PARTY</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was close upon midnight, and one of the oldest and most exclusive of
+West-end clubs was in a state of great bustle and excitement. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was giving a supper party to his friends to celebrate his
+sixtieth birthday, and the guests were all assembled.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan himself was the last to arrive. The final touches had been
+given to the brilliantly decorated supper table, and the <i>chef</i>, who had
+done his best for the greatest connoisseur and the most liberal member
+in the club, had twice looked at his watch. As midnight struck, however,
+Sir Allan's great black horses turned into Pall Mall, and a few minutes
+later he was quietly welcoming his guests, and leading the way into the
+room which had been reserved for the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>As a rule men are not quick at noticing one another's looks, but
+to-night more than one person remarked upon a certain change in their
+host's appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Beaumerville's getting quite the old man," remarked Lord Lathon, as he
+helped himself to an ortolan. "Looks jolly white about the gills
+to-night, doesn't he?"</p>
+
+<p>His neighbor, a barrister and wearer of the silk, adjusted his eyeglass
+and looked down the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Gad, he does!" he answered. "Looks as though he's had a shock."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all in his usual form, at any rate," put in Mr. Thurwell, <i>sotto
+voce</i>, from the other side of the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Queer thing, but he seems to remind me of some one to-night," Lord
+Lathon remarked to the Home Secretary, who was on the other side. "Can't
+remember who it is, though. It's some fellow who's in a devil of a
+scrape, I know. Who the mischief is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean Maddison, don't you?" Sir Philip Roden answered. "Plenty of
+people have noticed that. There is a likeness, certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, there is, though!" Lord Lathon assented; "I never noticed it
+before. I'm devilish sorry for Maddison, Roden, and I hope you won't let
+them hang him."</p>
+
+<p>The conversation turned upon the Maddison case and became general.
+Everybody had something to say about it except Sir Allan. He himself, it
+was noticed, forbore to pass any opinion at all, and at the first
+opportunity he diverted the talk into another channel.</p>
+
+<p>The quality of his guests spoke volumes for the social position and
+popularity of their entertainer. Probably there were not half a dozen
+men in London who could have got together so brilliant and select an
+assembly. There were only twenty, but every man was a man of note.
+Politics were represented by the Home Secretary, Sir Philip Roden, and
+the First Lord of the Treasury; the peerage by the Duke of Leicester and
+the Earl of Lathon. There were two judges, and a half a dozen Q.C.'s,
+the most popular novelist of the day, and the most renowned physician. A
+prince might have entertained such a company with honor.</p>
+
+<p>It had been arranged that the advent of cigars should be the signal for
+the Duke of Leicester to rise and propose their host's health. But to
+the surprise of every one, whilst his grace was preparing for the
+ordeal, and was on the point of rising, Sir Allan himself slowly rose to
+his feet, with a look in his still, cold face so different from anything
+that might be expected of a man who rises at two o'clock in the morning
+after a capital supper to make a speech to his guests, that every one's
+attention was at once arrested.</p>
+
+<p>"I am given to understand, gentlemen," he said slowly, "that his grace
+the Duke of Leicester was about to propose my health on your behalf. I
+rise to prevent this for two reasons. First, because to a dying man such
+a toast could only be a mockery; the second reason will be sufficiently
+apparent when I have said what I have to say to you."</p>
+
+<p>Every one was stupefied. Had their host suddenly gone mad, or had those
+empty bottles of Heidseck which had just been removed from his end of
+the table anything to do with it? Several murmurs for an explanation
+arose.</p>
+
+<p>"I had forgotten for the moment," Sir Allan continued, "that none of you
+are yet aware of what I have only known myself during the last few days.
+I am suffering from acute heart disease, which may terminate fatally at
+any moment."</p>
+
+<p>A sudden awed gloom fell upon the party. Cigars were put down, and
+shocked glances exchanged. A murmur of condolence arose, but Sir Allan
+checked it with a little gesture.</p>
+
+<p>"I need scarcely say that I did not ask you to meet me here this evening
+to tell you this," he continued. "My object is a different one. I have a
+confession to make."</p>
+
+<p>The general bewilderment increased. The air of festivity was replaced
+by a dull restrained silence. Could it be that their host's illness had
+affected his brain? A painful impression to that effect had passed into
+the minds of more than one of them.</p>
+
+<p>"You will say, perhaps," Sir Allan continued, speaking very slowly, and
+with a certain difficulty in his articulation, which did not, however,
+prevent every word from being distinctly audible, "that I am choosing a
+strange time and place for making a personal statement. But I see
+amongst those who have done me the honor of becoming my guests to-night,
+men whom I should wish to know the whole truth from my own lips&mdash;I refer
+more particularly to you, Sir Philip Roden&mdash;and to-night is my last
+opportunity, for to-morrow all London will know my story, and I shall be
+banned forever from all converse and intercourse with my fellow-men.</p>
+
+<p>"Very few words will tell my story. Most of you will remember that I
+came into my title and fortune late in life. My youth was spent in
+comparative poverty abroad, sometimes practicing my profession,
+sometimes living merely as a student and an experimenting scientist. In
+my thirtieth year I married a woman of good family, with whom I was very
+much in love, so much so that in order to win her I forged a letter from
+the man whom she would otherwise have married, and obtained her consent
+in a fit of indignation at his supposed infidelity. That man, gentleman,
+was Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."</p>
+
+<p>There was a subdued murmur of astonishment. Every one's interest was
+suddenly redoubled. Sir Allan proceeded, standing at the head of the
+table, motionless as a statue, but with a strange look in his white
+face.</p>
+
+<p>"In every possible way I failed in my duty as a husband toward my wife.
+She was light-hearted, fond of change, gayety, travel. I shut her up in
+a quiet, old-fashioned town while I pursued my studies, and expected her
+to content herself with absolute solitude. For years I crushed the life
+out of her by withdrawing every interest and every amusement from her
+life. We had one child only, a son.</p>
+
+<p>"From bad, things grew to worse. What I had dreaded came to pass. She
+discovered my treachery. Still, she was faithful to me, but we were
+husband and wife in name only.</p>
+
+<p>"Time passed on, and she made a few friends, and went out occasionally.
+Then, who should come by accident to the little town where we lived but
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. I was madly, insanely jealous, and I forbade my
+wife to meet him. She declined to obey me, and she was quite right to do
+so. At that time she was as faithful to me as any woman could be, and
+she treated my suspicions, as they deserved to be treated, with
+contempt. Sir Geoffrey and she met as friends, and if it had not been
+for my brutality they would never have met in any other way.</p>
+
+<p>"One night there was a f&ecirc;te and dance in our little town. My wife went,
+against my orders, and Sir Geoffrey escorted her home. A demon of
+jealousy entered into my soul that night. Although all the time I knew
+that my wife was faithful to me, the worse half of my nature whispered
+to me that she was not, and, wretch that I was, I stooped to listen to
+it. When she returned I was mad with a fit of ungovernable rage. I shut
+my doors against her, and refused to allow her to enter my house. I
+taunted her with her infidelity. I bade her go to her lover. She went to
+some friends, and for two days she waited for a message from me. I sent
+none, and on the third day she left the place with Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. In less than a month she was in a convent, and from that day
+to this she has lived the life of a holy woman."</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight tremor in his voice for the first time, and he
+paused. The silence was profound. Everyone sat motionless. Everyone's
+eyes were fixed upon him. In a moment he continued.</p>
+
+<p>"Although by sheer brutality, by coarse insults and undeviating cruelty,
+I had driven my wife to the edge of the precipice, my rage against the
+man, whom I knew she had always loved, burned as fiercely as though he
+had won her from me by the cruelest means. I followed them to Vienna,
+and insulted him publicly. My wife left him on that very night, and he
+has never seen her since; but Sir Geoffrey and I fought on the sands
+near Boulogne, and I strove my utmost to kill him. Fortune was against
+me, however, and I was wounded. I returned to my home with my thirst for
+vengeance unabated. I taught my son to curse the name of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and as soon as I had recovered from my wounds I hunted him all
+over Europe. Where he spent those years I cannot tell, but he eluded me.
+Often I reached a town only to learn that he had left it but a few days;
+once, I remember, at Belgrade, I was only a few hours behind him. But
+meet him face to face I could not.</p>
+
+<p>"When at last I saw my son again, I found him grown up, and in his first
+words he told me boldly that he had espoused his mother's cause, and
+that he withdrew altogether from his vow of vengeance against Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston. I left him in a fury, and almost immediately
+afterwards came the unexpected news of my accession to the baronetcy of
+Beaumerville. I made up my mind then to turn over the past chapter of my
+life, and start the world afresh. I had always been known by the family
+name of Martival, and my wife was unaware of my connection with the
+Beaumerville family. Taking advantage of this, I sent her false news of
+my death at Paris, and started life afresh as Sir Allan Beaumerville.</p>
+
+<p>"The past, however, soon began to cast its shadows into the future. A
+new author, calling himself Bernard Maddison, was one night introduced
+to me at a crowded assembly. I held out my hand, which he did not take,
+and recognized my son."</p>
+
+<p>There was a general start. The first gleam of light struggled into the
+minds of the little group of listeners. They began to see whither this
+thing was tending, and everyone looked very grave.</p>
+
+<p>"I had nothing to fear," Sir Allan continued. "My son showed by his
+looks the contempt in which he held me. We met frequently after that,
+but we never exchanged a single word. He kept my secret, too, from his
+mother&mdash;not for my sake, but for her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Six months after our first meeting Sir Geoffrey Kynaston returned to
+England. It may seem strange to you, gentlemen, but my hate for this man
+had never lessened, never decreased. The moment I heard the news I began
+to lay my plans.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, for the first time, my son sought me. He had come, he said, to
+make one request, and if I granted it, he would leave me in peace
+forever. Would I tell him that my oath had been buried with the old
+life, and that I would seek no harm to my old enemy? I simply declined
+to discuss the matter with him, and he went away.</p>
+
+<p>"From that time he commenced to watch me. I laid my plans deeply, but
+somehow he got to hear of them. When I went down on a visit to you, Lord
+Lathon, that I might be near Sir Geoffrey, he took a small cottage in
+the neighborhood, intending to do his best to counteract my schemes. But
+I was too cunning for him.</p>
+
+<p>"On the morning of Sir Geoffrey's murder I was on the cliffs, under the
+pretence of botanizing. While there I heard the guns of a shooting
+party, and through a field-glass I saw Mr. Thurwell and Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. At that time I scarcely thought that chance would bring Sir
+Geoffrey within my power, but I made up my mind to watch them.</p>
+
+<p>"Accordingly I descended from the cliffs, and, on my way, passed close
+to my son's cottage. I looked in at his sitting-room through the open
+windows, and it seemed as though the devil must have guided my eyes. His
+cabinet was open, and right opposite my eyes was a pair of long Turkish
+daggers carelessly thrown down with a heap of other curios. I listened.
+There was no one about. I stepped through the window, seized one of
+them, and hurried away. About a hundred yards from the cottage was a
+long narrow belt of plantation running from a considerable distance
+inland almost to the cliff side. Here I concealed myself, and looked out
+at the shooting party. I could see them all hurrying across the moor
+except Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. While I was wondering what had become of
+him, I heard footsteps on the other side of the plantation. I stole back
+to the edge and looked out. Coming slowly down by the side of the ditch
+was Sir Geoffrey, with his gun under his arm, and whistling softly to
+himself. He was alone. There was no one within sight. Gentlemen, it is
+an awful confession which I am making to you. I stole out upon him as
+he passed, and stabbed him to the heart, so that he died without a
+groan."</p>
+
+<p>Rembrandt might have found a worthy study in the faces of the men seated
+round that brilliant supper table. Blank horror seemed to hold them all
+speechless. Sir Allan, too, was trembling, and his hand, which rested
+upon the table, was as white as the damask cloth.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and a waiter entered.</p>
+
+<p>"A gentleman wishes to speak with Sir Allan Beaumerville," he announced.</p>
+
+<p>Sir Philip Roden rose to his feet, and pointed to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"The gentleman must wait, Nillson," he answered. "Leave the room now,
+and see that we are not interrupted until I ring the bell."</p>
+
+<p>The servant bowed and withdrew, after a wondering glance at the faces of
+the little party. Sir Philip Roden left his seat and, crossing the room,
+locked the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly, "there can be only one course
+to take with regard to the painful disclosures which you have laid
+before us to-night. If you have anything to add, please let us hear it
+quickly."</p>
+
+<p>Sir Allan continued at once.</p>
+
+<p>"I went back to my son's cottage. I washed my hands in his room, and the
+towel I concealed in his cabinet. Just as I was leaving he entered. What
+passed between us I need not mention. I took up my botanizing case and
+hurried away along the cliffs, and afterward was met by Mr. Thurwell's
+servant, with whom I returned once more to look upon my work. Then came
+the time when suspicion commenced to fall upon my son. I implored him
+to leave the country. He refused. At last he was arrested. For the
+father whom he can only despise he has been willing to die. To-night I
+had made up my mind to leave a confession of my guilt and fly. My plans
+are changed. Only a few hours ago I looked into the face of one whom I
+had never thought to see again in this world. Her advice I am now
+following. To her care I entrusted my confession, and to your ears I
+have detailed it. My story is done, gentlemen. Sir Philip Roden, I place
+myself in your hands."</p>
+
+<p>His last words had been almost drowned by a clamorous knocking at the
+closed door. When he had ceased, Sir Philip Roden rose and opened it.
+Two men entered at once, followed by Mr. Benjamin Levy. The men
+recognized Sir Philip, and saluted.</p>
+
+<p>"What is your business?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We hold a warrant for the arrest of Sir Allan Beaumerville, sir," was
+the respectful answer, "granted on the sworn information of Mr. Benjamin
+Levy there, by Mr. Pulsford, half an hour ago. Which is he, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>Sir Philip pointed to where his late host was standing a little away
+from the others, his hand resting on the carved knob of his high-backed
+chair, and his eyes fixed wildly upon them. The man advanced to him at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>"You are my prisoner, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly. "I hold
+a warrant here for your arrest on the charge of having murdered Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of August of last year."</p>
+
+<p>Those who were watching Sir Allan's face closely saw only a slight
+change. Its deep pallor grew only a shade more livid, and there was a
+faint twitching of the features. Then with an awful light flashing into
+his burning eyes, and a cry which rang through the whole building, he
+threw up his arms and fell like a log across the hearth rug. Every one
+sprang up and crowded round him, but the physician pushed his way
+through the group and fell on his knees. He was up again in a moment,
+looking very pale and awed.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep back, gentlemen; keep back, please," he said in a low tone. "Never
+mind about the brandy, Sir Philip. Every one had better go away. These
+people from Scotland Yard need not wait. Sir Allan will answer for his
+crime at a higher court than ours."</p>
+
+<p>And so it indeed was. Tragical justice had herself added the last and
+final scene to the drama. Sir Allan Beaumerville's lips were closed for
+ever in this world.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2>
+
+<h3>INNOCENT</h3>
+
+
+<p>An hour or two before the <i>d&eacute;nouement</i> of Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+supper party, his brougham had driven up to Mr. Thurwell's town house,
+and had set down a lady there. She had rung the bell and inquired for
+Miss Thurwell.</p>
+
+<p>The footman who answered the door looked dubious.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Thurwell was in, certainly, but she was unwell and saw no
+visitors, and it was late. Could he take her name?"</p>
+
+<p>The lady handed him a note.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will take this to Miss Thurwell, and tell her that I am waiting,
+I think that she will see me," she said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>The man took it, and, somewhat impressed by the bearing and manner of
+speech of the unknown lady, he showed her into the morning-room, and
+ringing for Miss Thurwell's maid, handed her the note and awaited the
+decision. It was speedily given. The lady was to be shown to her room at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>The agonizing suspense in which Helen had been living for the last few
+days had laid a heavy hand upon her. Her cheeks were thin, and had been
+woefully pale until the sudden excitement of this visit had called up a
+faint hectic flush which had no kindred with the color of health. Her
+form, too, seemed to have shrunken, and the loose tea-gown which she
+wore enhanced the fragility of her appearance. She had been sitting in a
+low chair before the fire, with her head buried in her hands, but when
+her visitor was announced she was standing up with her dry, bright eyes
+eagerly fixed upon the woman who stood on the threshold. The door was
+closed, and they looked at one another for a moment in silence.</p>
+
+<p>To an artist, the figures of these two women, each so intensely
+interested in the other, and each possessed of a distinctive and
+impressive personality, would have been full of striking suggestions.
+Helen, in her loose gown of a soft dusky orange hue, and with no harsher
+light thrown upon her features than the subdued glow of a shaded lamp,
+and occasional flashes of the firelight which gleamed in her
+too-brilliant eyes, seemed to have lost none of her beauty. All her
+surroundings, too, went to enhance it: the delicately-toned richness of
+the coloring around, the faintly perfumed air, the indefinable
+suggestion of feminine daintiness, so apparent in all the appointments
+of the little chamber. From the semi-darkness of her position near the
+door Helen's visitor brought her eager scrutiny to an end. She advanced
+a little into the room and spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"You are Helen Thurwell?" she said softly. "Sir Allan Beaumerville has
+bidden me come to you. You have read his note?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, I have read it," she answered quickly. "He tells me that you
+have news&mdash;news that concerns Bernard Maddison. Is it anything that will
+prove his innocence?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is already proved."</p>
+
+<p>Helen gave a great cry and sank into a low chair. She had no doubts;
+her visitor's tone and manner forbade them. But the tension of her
+feelings, strung to such a pitch of nervousness, gave way all at once.
+Her whole frame was shaken with passionate sobs. The burning agony of
+her grief was dissolved in melting tears.</p>
+
+<p>And the woman whose glad tidings had brought this change stood all the
+while patient and motionless. Once, when Helen had first yielded to her
+emotion, she had made a sudden movement forward, and a sweet,
+sympathetic light had flashed for a moment over her pale features. But
+something had seemed to restrain her, some chilling memory which had
+checked her first impulse, and made her resume her former attitude of
+quiet reserve. She stood there and waited. By and by Helen looked up and
+started to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I had almost forgotten; I am so sorry," she said. "Do sit down, please,
+and tell me everything, and who you are. You have brought me the best
+news I ever had in my life," she added with a little burst of gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>Her visitor remained standing&mdash;remained grave, silent, and unresponsive;
+yet there was nothing forbidding about her appearance. Looking into her
+soft gray eyes and face still beautiful, though wrinkled and colorless,
+Helen was conscious of a strange feeling of attraction toward her, a
+sort of unexplained affinity which women in trouble or distress often
+feel for one another, but which the sterner fiber of man's nature rarely
+admits of. She moved impulsively forward, and stretched out her hands in
+mute invitation, but there was no response. If anything, indeed, her
+visitor seemed to shrink a little away from her.</p>
+
+<p>"You ask me who I am," she said softly. "I am Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+wife; I am Bernard Maddison's mother."</p>
+
+<p>Helen sank back upon her chair, perfectly helpless. This thing was too
+much for her to grasp. She looked up at the woman who had spoken these
+marvelous words, half frightened, altogether bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"You are Sir Allan Beaumerville's wife," she repeated slowly. "I do not
+understand; I never knew that he was married. And Bernard Maddison his
+son!"</p>
+
+<p>Helen sat quite still for a moment. Then light began to stream in upon
+her darkened understanding. Suddenly she sprang to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it? then, who killed&mdash;Oh, my God, I see it all now. It was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She ceased, and looked at her visitor with blanched cheeks. A low,
+tremulous cry of horror broke from Lady Beaumerville's white lips. Her
+calmness seemed gone. She was trembling from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>"God help him! it was my husband who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," she
+cried; "and the sin is on my head."</p>
+
+<p>Helen was scarcely less agitated. She caught hold of the edge of the
+table to steady herself. Her voice seemed to come from a great distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Allan! I do not understand. Why did he do that horrible thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and my husband were mortal enemies," answered
+Lady Beaumerville, her voice scarcely raised above a whisper. "Mine was
+the fault, mine the guilt. Alas! alas!"</p>
+
+<p>The stately head with its wealth of silvery white hair was buried in her
+hands. Her attitude, the agony which quivered in her tone dying away in
+her final expression of despair like chords of wild, sad music, and
+above all her likeness to the man she loved, appealed irresistibly to
+Helen. A great pity filled her heart. She passed her arm round Lady
+Beaumerville, and drew her on to the sofa.</p>
+
+<p>There were no words between them then. Only, after a while, Helen asked
+quietly:</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Allan&mdash;must he confess?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is already done," her visitor answered. "To-morrow the world will
+know his guilt and my shame. Ah," she cried, her voice suddenly
+changing, "I had forgotten. Turn your face away from me, Helen Thurwell,
+and listen."</p>
+
+<p>In the silence of the half-darkened chamber she told her story&mdash;told it
+in the low, humbled tone of saintly penitence, rising sometimes into
+passion and at others falling into an agonized whisper. She spoke of her
+girlhood, of the falsehood by which she had been cheated into a loveless
+marriage, and the utter misery which it had brought. Then she told her
+of her sin, committed in a moment of madness after her husband's brutal
+treatment, and so soon repented of. Lightly she touched upon her many
+years of solitary penance, her whole lifetime dedicated willingly and
+earnestly to the expiation of that dark stain, and of the coming to her
+quiet home of the awful news of Sir Geoffrey's murder. In her old age
+her sin had risen up against her, remorseless and unsatiated. Almost she
+had counted herself forgiven. Almost she had dared to hope that she
+might die in peace. But sin is everlasting, its punishment eternal.</p>
+
+<p>Here her voice died away in a sudden fit of weakness, as though the
+fierce consuming passion of her grief had eaten away all her strength.
+But in a moment or two she continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought my husband dead, and the sin my son's," she whispered. "They
+sent to me to come to his trial, that they might hear from my lips what
+they thought evidence against him. I would have died first. Then came a
+young man who told me all, and I came with him to England. I have seen
+and spoken with my husband. On his table he showed me signed papers. His
+confession was ready. 'This night,' he said, 'I take my leave of the
+world.' Thank God, he forgave me, and I him. We have stood hand-in-hand
+together, and the past between us is no more. He bade me come here, and
+I have come. I have seen the woman my son loves, and I am satisfied. Now
+I will go."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes rested for a moment upon Helen, full of an inexpressible
+yearning, and there had been a faint, sad wistfulness in her tone. But
+when she had finished, she drew her cloak around her, and turned toward
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>Helen let her take a few steps, scarcely conscious of her intention.
+Then she sprang up, and laid her hand upon Lady Beaumerville's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You are his mother," she said softly. "May I not be your daughter?"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"Helen, Helen, I have strange news for you!"</p>
+
+<p>The room was in semi-darkness, for the fire had burnt low and the
+heavily shaded lamp gave out but little light. Side by side on the low
+sofa, two women, hand-in-hand, had been sobbing out their grief to one
+another. On the threshold, peering with strained eyes through the gloom,
+was Mr. Thurwell, his light overcoat, hastily thrown over his evening
+clothes, still unremoved.</p>
+
+<p>She rose to her feet, and he saw the dim outline of her graceful figure,
+even a vision of her white, tear-stained face.</p>
+
+<p>"The truth has come out," he said gravely. "To-morrow Bernard will be
+free. The man who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston has confessed."</p>
+
+<p>"Confessed!" Helen repeated. "Where? To whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the Home Secretary, to a party of us as we sat at supper, his guests
+at the club. Helen, be prepared for a great surprise. The murderer was
+Sir Allan Beaumerville."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," Helen whispered hoarsely across the room. "Have they
+arrested Sir Allan?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell's surprise at his daughter's knowledge was forgotten in the
+horror of the scene which her words had called up. Across the darkened
+air of the little chamber it seemed to float again before his shuddering
+memory, and he stretched out his hands for a moment before his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Arrested him&mdash;no!" he answered in an agitated tone. "I have seen
+nothing so awful in all my life. He made his confession at the head of
+his table, the police were clamoring outside with a warrant, and while
+we all sat dazed and stupefied, he fell backward&mdash;dead."</p>
+
+<p>A cry rang through the little chamber, a sudden wail, half of relief,
+half of anguish. Helen fell upon her knees by the side of the sofa. Mr.
+Thurwell started, and moved forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that?" he asked quickly. "I thought you were alone."</p>
+
+<p>"It is his wife," Helen answered, not without some fear. "See, she has
+fainted."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Thurwell hesitated only for a moment. Then his face filled with
+compassion.</p>
+
+<p>"God help her;" he said solemnly. "I will send the women up to you, and
+a doctor. God help her!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2>
+
+<h3>AT LAST</h3>
+
+
+<p>The morning sunlight lay upon that wonderful fair garden of the villa.
+The tall white lilies, the scarlet poppies, the clustering japonica, the
+purple hyacinths, and the untrimmed brilliantly-flowering shrubs, lifted
+their heads before its sweet, quickening warmth, and yielded up their
+perfume to the still clear air. The languorous hour of noon was still
+far off. It was the birth of a southern summer day, and everything was
+fresh and pure, untainted by the burning, enervating heat which was soon
+to dry up the sweetness from the earth, and the freshness from the
+slightly moving breeze. Away on the brown hills, fading into a
+transparent veil of blue, the bright dresses of the peasant women
+stooping at their toil, the purple glory of the vineyards, and the deep,
+quiet green of the olive groves&mdash;all these simple characteristics of the
+pastoral landscape were like brilliant patches of coloring upon a
+fitting background. Soon the haze of the noonday heat would hang upon
+the earth, deadening the purity of its color, and making the air heavy
+and oppressive with faint overladen perfumes. But as yet the sun lay low
+in the heavens, and the earth beneath was like a fair still picture.</p>
+
+<p>The heavy lumbering coach which connected the little town with the
+outside world was drawn up at the gate of the villa, and twice the
+quaintly sounding horn had broken the morning stillness. It was a moment
+of farewell, a farewell not for days or for years, but forever.</p>
+
+<p>Their words denied it, yet in their hearts was that certain conviction,
+and much of that peculiar sadness which it could not fail to bring. Yet
+she would not have them stay for the end. She had bidden them go, and
+the hour had come.</p>
+
+<p>Too weak to walk, or even sit upright, they had laid her upon a sofa in
+front of the open windows, through which the perfume from the garden
+below stole sweetly in on the bosom of the slowly stirring south wind.
+On one side of her stood a tall mild-faced priest from the brotherhood
+who had made their home in the valley below, on the other were Bernard
+and his wife, her son and daughter.</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt that she was dying, that she was indeed very near
+death. Yet she was sending them away from her. The brief while they
+three had lived there together had been like a late autumn to her life,
+which had blossomed forth with sweet moments of happiness such as she
+had never dreamed of. And now her summons had come, and she was ready.
+In her last moments she must return once more to that absolute
+detachment from all save spiritual things in which for many years she
+had lived, a saintly, blessed woman. So she had bidden them go, even her
+son, even that fair sweet English girl who had been more than a daughter
+to her. She had bidden them go. The last words had been spoken, for the
+last time her trembling lips had been pressed to her son's. Yet they
+lingered.</p>
+
+<p>And there came of a sudden, floating through the window, the sweet slow
+chiming of the matins bell from the monastery below. Almost it seemed
+as though the soft delicate air through which it passed, the exquisite
+beauty of the sloping landscape and old garden over which it traveled,
+had had a rarefying influence upon the sound itself, and had mellowed
+its tones into a strain of the most perfect music throbbing with harmony
+and dying away in faint, delicious murmurs. They stood and listened to
+it, and a sudden light swept into the pale face upon the couch. They all
+looked at her in a sudden awe. The priest sank upon his knees by her
+side, and prayed. Long desired, it had come at last at this most fitting
+moment. The glory of death shone in her face, and the light of a coming
+release flashed across her features. She died as few can die, as one who
+sees descending from the clouds a long-promised happiness, and whose
+heart and soul go forth to meet it with joy.</p>
+
+<p>They stayed and buried her under a cypress tree, in a sunny corner of
+the monastery churchyard, where a plain black cross marked her grave.
+Then they turned their faces toward England.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>And in England they were happy. For the first few years they chose to
+live almost in retirement at their stately home, for with no desire for
+notoriety, Sir Bernard Beaumerville found himself on his return from
+abroad the most famous man in London. To escape from the lionizing that
+threatened him, Helen and he shut themselves up at Beaumerville Court,
+and steadfastly refused all invitations. Of their life there little need
+be said, save that to each it was the perfect realization of dreams
+which had once seemed too sweet to be possible.</p>
+
+<p>And in the midst of it all he found time to write. From the quaint oak
+library, where he had gone back into the old realms of thoughtland, he
+sent out into the world a great work. Once more the columns of the daily
+papers and the reviews were busy with his name, and for once all were
+unanimous. All bowed down before his genius, and his name was written
+into the history of his generation. Through a burning sea of trouble, of
+intellectual disquiet and mental agony, he had emerged strengthened at
+every point. Love had fulfilled upon him its great office. He was
+humanized. The impersonality, which is the student's bane, which deepens
+into misanthropy, cynicism, and pessimism, yielded before it. The voices
+of his own children became dearer to him than the written thoughts of
+dead men. It was the reassertion of nature, and it was well for him. So
+was he saved, so was his genius unfettered from the cloying weight of
+too much abstract thought, which at one time, save for his artistic
+instincts, would have plunged him into the morass of pedantry and turned
+his genius into a pillar of salt. A woman had saved him, and through the
+long years of their life together he never forgot it.</p>
+
+<h4>THE END</h4>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The New Tenant
+
+Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim
+
+Release Date: February 4, 2009 [EBook #27998]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NEW TENANT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D. Alexander, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                             THE NEW TENANT
+
+                        BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
+
+AUTHOR OF "THE YELLOW HOUSE," "TO WIN THE LOVE HE SOUGHT," "A DAUGHTER
+OF ASTREA," ETC.
+
+
+DONALD W. NEWTON
+156 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY
+C. H. DOSCHER & CO.
+
+THE TROW PRESS, NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+       I. FALCON'S NEST
+
+      II. THE MURDER NEAR THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+     III. MR. BERNARD BROWN
+
+      IV. AN EVIL END TO AN EVIL LIFE
+
+       V. THE INNER ROOM AT THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+      VI. A TERRIBLE ENEMY
+
+     VII. HELEN THURWELL'S SUSPICIONS
+
+    VIII. DID YOU KILL SIR GEOFFREY KYNASTON?
+
+      IX. MR. BROWN DINES AT THE COURT
+
+       X. THE TRAGEDY OF RACHEL KYNASTON
+
+      XI. LEVY & SON, PRIVATE AGENTS
+
+     XII. A JEWEL OF A SON
+
+    XIII. A STRANGE MEETING
+
+     XIV. HELEN THURWELL ASKS A DIRECT QUESTION
+
+      XV. A LITERARY CELEBRITY
+
+     XVI. A SNUB FOR A BARONET
+
+    XVII. BERNARD MADDISON AND HELEN THURWELL
+
+   XVIII. A CHEQUE FOR L1,000
+
+     XIX. AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY FOR BERNARD BROWN
+
+      XX. GOD! THAT I MAY DIE!
+
+     XXI. SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE HAS A CALLER
+
+    XXII. "GOD FORBID IT!"
+
+   XXIII. LOVERS
+
+    XXIV. A WOMAN'S LOVE
+
+     XXV. MR. LEVY, JUNIOR, GOES ON THE CONTINENT
+
+    XXVI. HELEN DECIDES TO GO HOME
+
+   XXVII. MR. THURWELL MAKES SOME INQUIRIES
+
+  XXVIII. SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE VISITS THE COURT
+
+    XXIX. THE SCENE CHANGES
+
+     XXX. BENJAMIN LEVY RUNS HIS QUARRY TO EARTH
+
+    XXXI. BENJAMIN LEVY WRITES HOME
+
+   XXXII. A STRANGE TRIO OF PASSENGERS
+
+  XXXIII. VISITORS FOR MR. BERNARD MADDISON
+
+   XXXIV. ARRESTED
+
+    XXXV. COMMITTED FOR TRIAL
+
+   XXXVI. MR. LEVY PROMISES TO DO HIS BEST
+
+  XXXVII. BERNARD A PRISONER
+
+ XXXVIII. "THERE IS MY HAND. DARE YOU TAKE IT?"
+
+   XXXIX. MR. BENJAMIN LEVY IS BUSY
+
+      XL. A STRANGE BIRTHDAY PARTY
+
+     XLI. INNOCENT
+
+    XLII. AT LAST
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW TENANT
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+Thurwell Court, by Thurwell-on-the-Sea, lay bathed in the quiet
+freshness of an early morning. The dewdrops were still sparkling upon
+the terraced lawns like little globules of flashing silver, and the
+tumult of noisy songsters from the thick shrubberies alone broke the
+sweet silence. The peacocks strutting about the grey stone balcony and
+perched upon the worn balustrade were in deshabille, not being
+accustomed to display their splendors to an empty paradise, and the few
+fat blackbirds who were hopping about on the lawn did so in a desultory
+manner, as though they were only half awake and had turned out under
+protest. Stillness reigned everywhere, but it was the sweet hush of
+slowly awakening day rather than the drowsy, languorous quiet of
+exhausted afternoon. With one's eyes shut one could tell that the pulse
+of day was only just beginning to beat. The pure atmosphere was buoyant
+with the vigorous promise of morning, and gently laden with the mingled
+perfumes of slowly opening flowers. There was life in the breathless
+air.
+
+The sunlight was everywhere. In the distance it lay upon the dark
+hillside, played upon the deep yellow gorse and purple heather of the
+moorland, and, further away still, flashed upon a long silver streak of
+the German Ocean. In the old-fashioned gardens of the court it shone
+upon luscious peaches hanging on the time-mellowed red-brick walls; lit
+up the face and gleamed upon the hands of the stable clock, and warmed
+the ancient heart of the stooping, grey-haired old gardener's help who,
+with blinking eyes and hands tucked in his trousers pockets, was smoking
+a matutinal pipe, seated on the wheelbarrow outside the tool shed.
+
+Around the mansion itself it was very busy, casting a thousand sunbeams
+upon its long line of oriel windows, and many quaint shadows of its
+begabled roof upon the lawns and bright flower-beds below. On one of the
+terraces a breakfast-table was laid for two, and here its splendour was
+absolutely dazzling. It gleamed upon the sparkling silver, and the
+snow-white tablecloth; shone with a delicate softness upon the
+freshly-gathered fruit and brilliant flowers, and seemed to hover with a
+gentle burnished light upon the ruddy golden hair of a girl who sat
+there waiting, with her arm resting lightly upon the stone balustrade,
+and her eyes straying over the quaint well-kept gardens to the open
+moorland and dark patches of wooded country beyond.
+
+"Good morning, Helen! First, as usual."
+
+She turned round with a somewhat languid greeting. A tall, well-made
+man, a little past middle-age, in gaiters and light tweed coat, had
+stepped out on to the balcony from one of the open windows. In his right
+hand he was swinging carelessly backwards and forwards by a long strap a
+well-worn letter-bag.
+
+"Is breakfast ready?" he inquired.
+
+"Waiting for you, father," she answered, touching a small handbell by
+her side. "Try one of those peaches. Burdett says they are the finest he
+ever raised."
+
+He stretched out his hand for one, and sinking into a low basket chair,
+commenced lazily to peel it, with his eyes wandering over the sunny
+landscape. A footman brought out the tea equipage and some
+silver-covered dishes, and, after silently arranging them upon the
+table, withdrew.
+
+"What an exquisite morning!" Mr. Thurwell remarked, looking up at the
+blue cloudless sky, and pulling his cap a little closer over his eyes to
+protect them from the sun. "We might be in Italy again."
+
+"Indeed we might," she answered. "I am going to imagine that we are, and
+make my breakfast of peaches and cream and chocolate! Shall I give you
+some?"
+
+He shook his head, with a little grimace.
+
+"No, thanks. I'm Philistine enough to prefer devilled kidneys and tea. I
+wonder if there is anything in the letters."
+
+He drew a key from his waistcoat pocket, and, unlocking the bag, shook
+its contents upon the tablecloth. His daughter looked at the pile with a
+faint show of interest. There were one or two invitations, which he
+tossed over to her, a few business letters, which he put on one side for
+more leisurely perusal later on, and a little packet from his agent
+which he opened at once, and the contents of which brought a slight
+frown into his handsome face.
+
+Helen Thurwell glanced through her share without finding anything
+interesting. Tennis parties, archery meetings, a bazaar fete;
+absolutely nothing fresh. She was so tired of all that sort of
+thing--tired of eternally meeting the same little set of people, and
+joining in the same round of so-called amusements. There was nothing in
+Northshire society which attracted her. It was all very stupid, and she
+was very much bored.
+
+"Some news here that will interest you, Helen," her father remarked
+suddenly. "Who do you think is coming home?"
+
+She shook her head. She was not in the least curious.
+
+"I don't remember any one going away lately," she remarked. "How warm it
+is!"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is coming back."
+
+After all, she was a little interested. She looked away from the sunny
+gardens and into her father's face.
+
+"Really!"
+
+"It is a fact!" he declared. "Douglas says that he will be here to-day
+or to-morrow. Let me see, it must be nearly fifteen years since he was
+in England. Time he settled down, if he means to at all."
+
+"Was he very wild, then?" she asked.
+
+The squire nodded.
+
+"Rather!" he answered dryly. "I dare say people will have forgotten all
+about it by now, though. Forty thousand a year covers a multitude of
+sins, especially in a tenth baronet!"
+
+She asked no more questions, but leaned back in her chair, and looked
+thoughtfully across the open country towards the grey turrets of
+Kynaston Towers, from which a flag was flying. Mr. Thurwell re-read his
+agent's letter with a slight frown upon his forehead.
+
+"I don't know what to do here," he remarked.
+
+"What is it?" she asked absently. She was watching the flag slowly
+unfurling itself in the breeze, and fluttering languidly above the
+tree-tops. It was odd to think that a master was coming to rule there.
+
+"It's about Falcon's Nest. I wish I'd never thought of letting it!"
+
+"Why? It would be a great deal better occupied, surely!"
+
+"If I could let it to a decent tenant, of course it would. But, you know
+that fellow Chapman, of Mallory? He wants it!"
+
+She looked up at him quickly.
+
+"You surely would not let it to a man like that?"
+
+"Certainly not. But, on the other hand, I don't want to offend him. If I
+were to decide to stand for the county at the next election, he would be
+my most useful man in Mallory, or my worst enemy. He's just the sort of
+fellow to take offence--quickly, too."
+
+"Can't you tell him it's let?"
+
+"Not unless I do let it to some one. Of course not!"
+
+"But are there no other applications?"
+
+"Yes, there is one other," he answered; "but the most awkward part of it
+is that it's from a complete stranger. Fellow who calls himself
+'Brown.'"
+
+"Let me see the letter," she said.
+
+He passed it over the table to her. It was written on plain notepaper,
+in a peculiar, cramped handwriting.
+
+     "_London_, May 30.
+
+     "DEAR SIR,--I understand, from an advertisement in this week's
+     _Field_, that you are willing to let 'Falcon's Nest,' situated on
+     your estate. I shall be happy to take it at the rent you quote, if
+     not already disposed of. My solicitors are Messrs. Cuthbert, of
+     Lincoln's Inn; and my bankers, Gregsons. I may add that I am a
+     bachelor, living alone. The favor of your immediate reply will much
+     oblige,
+
+     "Yours faithfully,
+
+     "BERNARD BROWN."
+
+She folded the letter up, and returned it to her father without remark.
+
+"You see," Mr. Thurwell said, "my only chance of escaping from Chapman,
+without offending him, is to say that it is already let, and to accept
+this fellow's offer straight off. But it's an awful risk. How do I know
+that Brown isn't a retired tallow-chandler or something of that sort?"
+
+"Why not telegraph to his solicitors?" she suggested; "they would know
+who he was, I suppose."
+
+"That's not a bad idea!" he declared. "Morton shall ride over to Mallory
+at once. I'm glad you thought of it, Helen."
+
+Having come to this decision, Mr. Thurwell turned round and made an
+excellent breakfast, after which he and his daughter spent the day very
+much in the same manner as any other English country gentleman and young
+lady are in the habit of doing. He made a pretense of writing some
+letters and arranging some business affairs with his agent in the
+library for an hour, and, later on in the morning, he drove over to
+Mallory, and took his seat on the magistrates' bench during the hearing
+of a poaching case. After lunch, he rode to an outlying farm to inspect
+a new system of drainage, and when he returned, about an hour before
+dinner-time, he considered that he had done a good day's work.
+
+Helen spent the early part of the morning in the garden, and arranging
+freshly cut flowers about the house. Then she practised for an hour,
+solely out of a sense of duty, for she was no musician. Directly the
+time was up, she closed the piano with a sigh of relief, and spent the
+rest of the time before two o'clock reading a rather stupid novel. After
+luncheon she made a call several miles off, driving herself in a
+light-brown cart, and played several sets of tennis, having for her
+partner a very mild and brainless young curate. At dinner-time she and
+her father met again, and when he entered the room he had two slips of
+orange-colored paper in his hand.
+
+"Well, what news?" she inquired.
+
+He handed the telegrams to her without a word, and she glanced them
+through. The first was from the bankers.
+
+     "To Guy Davenant Thurwell, Esq.,
+     Thurwell Court, Northshire.
+
+     "We consider Mr. Brown a desirable tenant for you from a pecuniary
+     point of view. We know nothing of his family."
+
+The other one was from his lawyers.
+
+     "To Guy D. Thurwell, Esq.,
+     Thurwell Court, Northshire.
+
+     "Mr. Brown is a gentleman of means, and quite in a position to rent
+     'Falcon's Nest.' We are not at liberty to say anything as to his
+     antecedents or family."
+
+"What am I to do?" asked Mr. Thurwell, undecidedly. "I don't like the
+end of this last telegram. A solicitor ought to be able to say a little
+more about a client than that."
+
+Helen considered for a moment. She was so little interested in the
+matter that she found it difficult to make up her mind either way.
+Afterwards she scarcely dared think of that moment's indecision.
+
+"Perhaps so," she said. "All the same, I detest Mr. Chapman. I should
+vote for Mr. Brown."
+
+"Mr. Brown it shall be, then!" he answered. "Douglas shall write him
+to-morrow."
+
+A fortnight later Mr. Bernard Brown took up his quarters at Falcon's
+Nest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE MURDER NEAR THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+"I call it perfectly dreadful of those men!" Helen Thurwell exclaimed
+suddenly. "They're more than an hour late, and I'm desperately hungry!"
+
+"It is rank ingratitude!" Rachel Kynaston sighed. "I positively cannot
+sit still and look at that luncheon any longer. Groves, give me a
+biscuit."
+
+They were both seated on low folding-chairs out on the open moorland,
+only a few yards away from the edge of the rugged line of cliffs against
+which, many hundreds of feet below, the sea was breaking with a low
+monotonous murmur. Close behind them, on a level stretch of springy
+turf, a roughly improvised table, covered with a cloth of dazzling
+whiteness, was laden with deep bowls of lobster salad, _pates de foie
+gras_, chickens, truffled turkeys, piles of hothouse fruit, and many
+other delicacies peculiarly appreciated at _al fresco_ symposia; and, a
+little further away still, under the shade of a huge yellow gorse bush,
+were several ice-pails, in which were reposing many rows of gold-foiled
+bottles. The warm sun was just sufficiently tempered by a mild
+heather-scented breeze, and though it flashed gayly upon the glass and
+silver, and danced across the bosom of the blue water below, its heat
+was more pleasant than oppressive. The two women who sat there looked
+delightfully cool. Helen Thurwell especially, in her white holland gown,
+with a great bunch of heather stuck in her belt, and a faint healthy
+glow in her cheeks, looked as only an English country girl of good birth
+can look--the very personification of dainty freshness.
+
+"There go the guns again!" she exclaimed. "Listen to the echoes. They
+can't be far away now."
+
+There was a little murmur of satisfaction. Every allowance is to be made
+for such a keen sportsman as Mr. Thurwell on the glorious twelfth, but
+the time fixed for the rendezvous had been exceeded by more than an
+hour.
+
+"I have reached the limit of my endurance!" Rachel Kynaston declared,
+getting up from her seat. "I must either lunch or faint! As a matter of
+choice, I prefer the former."
+
+"They will be here directly, miss," Groves remarked, as he completed the
+finishing touches which he had been putting to the table, and stepped
+back a little to view the effect. So far as he was concerned they might
+come any time now. For once his subordinates had not failed him. Nothing
+had been forgotten; and, on the whole, he felt that he had reason to be
+proud of his handiwork.
+
+He glanced away inland again, shading his eyes with his hand.
+
+"They'll be coming round the Black Copse in five minutes," he said, half
+to himself. "James, get the other chairs out of the wagon."
+
+Rachel Kynaston was still standing up looking around her. Suddenly her
+eyes fell upon a quaintly built cottage, perched upon the edge of the
+cliff about a mile away.
+
+"I meant to ask you before, Helen," she exclaimed. "Who lives in that
+extraordinary-looking building--Falcon's Nest, I think you call it?"
+
+She moved her parasol in its direction, and looked at it curiously. A
+strange-looking abode it certainly was; built of yellow stone, with a
+background of stunted fir trees which stretched half way down the cliff
+side.
+
+Helen Thurwell looked across at it indifferently.
+
+"I can tell you his name, and that is all," she answered. "He calls
+himself Mr. Brown--Mr. Bernard Brown."
+
+"Well, who is he? What does he do?"
+
+Helen shook her head.
+
+"Really, I haven't the least idea," she declared. "I do not even know
+what he is like. He has been there for two months, and we haven't seen
+him yet. Papa called upon him, but he was out. He has not returned the
+call! He--oh, bother Mr. Brown, here they come! I'm so glad!"
+
+They both got up and looked. Rounding the corner of a long plantation,
+about half a mile away, were several men in broken line, with their guns
+under their arms; and a little way behind came three keepers, carrying
+bags.
+
+Rachel Kynaston looked at them fixedly.
+
+"One, two, three, four, five," she counted. "One short. I don't see
+Geoffrey."
+
+Helen moved to her side, and shaded her eyes with her hand. On the
+fourth finger a half hoop of diamonds, which had not been there three
+months ago, was flashing in the sunlight.
+
+"Neither do I," she said. "I wonder where he is."
+
+Her tone was a little indifferent, considering that it was her _fiance_
+who was missing. But no one ever looked for much display of feeling from
+Helen Thurwell, not even the man who called himself her lover. Indeed,
+her unresponsiveness to his advances--a sort of delicate composure which
+he was powerless in any way to break through--had been her strongest
+attraction to Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, who was quite unused to anything of
+the sort.
+
+The men quickened their pace, and emptying their guns into the air, soon
+came within hailing distance. On that particular day of the year there
+was only one possible greeting, and Helen and her companion contented
+themselves with a monosyllable.
+
+"Well?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell was in the front rank, and evidently in the best of
+spirits. It was he who answered them.
+
+"Capital sport!" he declared heartily. "Birds a little wild, but strong,
+and plenty of them. We've made a big bag for only three guns. Sir
+Geoffrey was in capital form. Groves, open a bottle of Heidseck."
+
+"Where is Geoffrey?" asked Rachel--his sister.
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked round and discovered his absence for the first time.
+
+"I really don't know," he answered, a little bewildered; "He was with us
+a few minutes ago. What's become of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, Heggs?" he
+asked, turning round to one of the gamekeepers.
+
+"He left us at the top of the Black Copse, sir," the man answered. "He
+was coming round by the other side--shot a woodcock there once, sir," he
+said.
+
+They glanced across the moor toward Falcon's Nest. There was no one in
+sight.
+
+"He's had plenty of time to get round," remarked Lord Lathon, throwing
+down his gun. "Perhaps he's resting."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"No; he wouldn't do that," he said. "He was as keen about getting here
+as any of us. Hark! what was that?"
+
+A faint sound was borne across the moor on the lazily stirring breeze.
+Helen, whose hearing was very keen, started, and the little party
+exchanged uneasy glances.
+
+"It must have been a sea-gull," remarked Lord Lathon, who wanted his
+luncheon very badly indeed. "We'd better not wait for him. He'll turn up
+all right; Geoffrey always does. Come----"
+
+He broke off suddenly in his speech and listened. There was another
+sound, and this time there was no mistake about it. It was the low,
+prolonged howl of a spaniel--a mournful sound which struck a strange
+note in the afternoon stillness. There was breathless silence for a
+moment amongst the little group, and the becoming glow died out of
+Helen's cheek.
+
+Rachel Kynaston was the first to recover herself.
+
+"Had Sir Geoffrey a dog with him, Heggs?" she asked quickly.
+
+"Yes, miss," the man answered. "His favorite spaniel had got unchained
+somehow, and found us on the moor. I saw her at heel when he left us.
+She was very quiet, and Sir Geoffrey wouldn't have her sent back."
+
+"Then something has happened to him!" she cried. "That was Fido's howl."
+
+"Has anyone heard his gun?" Mr. Thurwell asked.
+
+There was no one left to answer him. They had all started across the
+moor toward the black patch of spinneys around which Sir Geoffrey should
+have come. Mr. Thurwell, forgetting his fatigue, hurried after them;
+and Helen, after a moment's hesitation, followed too, some distance
+behind.
+
+She ran swiftly, but her dress caught often in the prickly gorse, and
+she had to pause each time to release herself. Soon she found herself
+alone, for the others had all turned the corner of the plantation before
+she reached it. There was a strong, sickly sense of coming disaster
+swelling in her heart, and her knees were tottering. Still she held on
+her way bravely. A few yards before she reached the corner of the
+plantation, she almost ran into the arms of Lord Lathon, who was
+hurrying back to meet her. There was a ghastly shade in his pale face,
+and his voice trembled.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," he exclaimed in an agitated tone, "you must not come!
+Let me take you back. Something--has happened! I am going to Rachel.
+Come with me."
+
+She drew away from him, and threw off his restraining arm.
+
+"No; I must see for myself. Let me pass, please--at once."
+
+He tried again to prevent her, but she eluded him. A few rapid steps and
+she had gained the corner. There they all were in a little group
+scarcely a dozen yards away. A mist floated before her eyes, but she
+would see; she was determined that she would see this thing for herself.
+She struggled on a few steps nearer. There was something lying on the
+grass around which they were all gathered; something very much like a
+human shape. Ah! she could see more plainly now. It was Sir
+Geoffrey--Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. He was lying half on the grass and half
+in the dry ditch. His white face was upturned to the cloudless sky; by
+his side, and discoloring his brown tweed shooting coat, was a dark wet
+stain. In the midst of it something bright was flashing in the sunlight.
+
+She stood still, rooted to the spot with a great horror. Her pulses had
+ceased to beat. The warm summer day seemed suddenly to have closed in
+around her. There was a singing in her ears, and she found herself
+battling hard with a deadly faintness. Yet she found words.
+
+"Has he--shot himself?" she cried. "Is it an accident?"
+
+Her father turned round with a little cry, and hastened to her side.
+
+"Helen!" he gasped. "You should not be here! Come away, child! I sent
+Lathon----"
+
+"I will know--what it is. Is it an accident? Is he--dead?"
+
+He shook his head. The healthy sunburnt tan had left his face, and he
+was white to the lips.
+
+"He has been murdered!" he faltered. "Foully, brutally murdered!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+MR. BERNARD BROWN
+
+
+Murder is generally associated in one's mind with darkness, the still
+hours of night, and bestiality. It is the outcome of the fierce animal
+lust for blood, provoked by low passions working in low minds. De
+Quincey's brilliant attempt to elevate it to a place among the fine arts
+has only enriched its horrors as an abstract idea. Even detached from
+its usual environment of darkness, and ignorance, and vice, it is an
+ugly thing.
+
+But here was something quite different. Such a tragedy as this which had
+just occurred was possessed of a peculiar hideousness of its own. It
+seemed to have completely laid hold of the little group of men gathered
+round the body of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston; to have bereft them of all
+reasoning power and thought, to have numbed even their limbs and
+physical instincts. It was only a few minutes ago since they had left
+him, careless and debonair, with his thoughts intent upon the business,
+or rather the sport, of the hour. His laugh had been the loudest, his
+enjoyment the keenest, and his gun the most deadly of them all. But now
+he lay there cold and lifeless, with his heart's blood staining the
+green turf, and his sightless eyes dull and glazed. It was an awful
+thing!
+
+Physically, he had been the very model of an English country gentleman,
+tall and powerful, with great broad shoulders, and strikingly upright
+carriage, full of vigorous animal life, with the slight restlessness of
+the constant traveler banished by his sudden passion for the girl who
+had so lately promised to be his wife.
+
+She drew a little nearer--they were all too much overcome by the shock
+of this thing to prevent her--and stood with glazed eyes looking down
+upon him. Everything, even the minutest article of his dress, seemed to
+appeal to her with a strange vividness. She found herself even studying
+the large check of his shooting-coat and the stockings which she had
+once laughingly admired, and which he had ever since worn. Her eyes
+rested upon the sprig of heliotrope which, with her own fingers, she had
+arranged in his button hole, as they had strolled down the garden
+together just before the start; and the faint perfume which reached her
+where she stood, helped her to realize that she was in the thrall of no
+nightmare, but that this thing had really happened. She had never loved
+him, she had never even pretended to love him, and it was less any sense
+of personal loss than the hideous sin of it which swept in upon her as
+she stood there looking down upon him. She recognized, as she could
+never have done had he been personally dear to her, the ethical horror
+of the thing. The faintness which had almost numbed her senses passed
+away. In that swift battle of many sensations it was anger which
+survived.
+
+Her voice first broke the deep, awed stillness.
+
+"Who has done this?" she cried, pointing downward.
+
+Her words were like a sudden awakening to them all. They had been
+standing like figures in a silent tableau, stricken dumb and motionless.
+Now there was a stir. The fire in her tone had dissolved their torpor.
+She was standing on rising ground a little above the rest of them, and
+her attitude, together with the gesture by which she enforced her words,
+was full of intense dramatic force. The slim undulating beauty of her
+form was enhanced by the slight disorder of her dress, and her red-gold
+hair--she had lost her hat--shone and glistened in the sunlight till
+every thread was shining like burnished gold. They themselves were in
+the shade of the dark pine trees, and she standing upon the margin of
+the moor with the warm sunlight glowing around her, seemed like a being
+of another world. Afterwards when they recalled that scene--and there
+was no one there who ever forgot it--they could scarcely tell which
+seemed the most terrible part to them--the lifeless body of the murdered
+man with the terrible writing of death in his white face, or the tragic
+figure of Helen Thurwell, the squire's cold, graceful daughter, with her
+placid features and whole being suddenly transformed with this wave of
+passion.
+
+Mr. Thurwell drew a few steps backward, and his keen gray eyes swept the
+open country round.
+
+"There was no one in sight when we got here; but the blackguard can't be
+far away!" he said. "Heggs, and you, Smith, and you, Cook, go through
+the spinney as fast as you can, one in the middle and one on each side,
+mind! I will go up Falcon's Hill and look round. Jem, run to Mallory as
+fast as you can for Dr. Holmes, and on to the police station. Quick! all
+of you. There's not a moment to lose!"
+
+The desire for action was as strong in them now as had been their former
+torpor. Mr. Thurwell and his daughter were alone in less than a minute.
+
+"Helen, I forgot you!" he exclaimed. "I can't leave you alone, and some
+one must stay here. Where is Lathon?"
+
+"He has gone on to take Rachel home," she answered. "I will stay here. I
+am not afraid. Quick! you can see for miles from the top of the hill and
+you have your field glass. Oh, do go. Go!"
+
+He hesitated, but she was evidently very much in earnest.
+
+"I will just climb the hill and hurry down again," he said. "I cannot
+leave you here for more than a few minutes. If only we had more men with
+us!"
+
+He turned away, and walked swiftly across the moor toward the hill. For
+a minute or two she stood watching his departing figure. Then she turned
+round with a shudder and buried her face in her clasped hands. Her
+appearance was less hard now and more natural, for a sickly sense of
+horror at the sight of his body was commencing to assert itself over
+that first strange instinct of passionate anger. It was none the less
+dreadful to her because in a certain way his removal was a release. She
+had promised to marry this man, but there had been scarcely a moment
+since when she had not found herself regretting it. Now the sense of
+freedom, which she could not altogether evade, was like torture to her.
+She dropped on her knees by his side, and took his cold hand in hers. A
+few hours ago she dared not have done this, knowing very well that at
+the caressing touch of her fingers, she would have felt his strong arms
+around her in a passionate and distasteful embrace. But there was no
+fear of this now. She would never have to shrink away from him again. He
+was dead!
+
+The warm sunlight was glancing among the thickly growing pine trees in
+the plantation by her side, casting quaint shadows on the cone-strewn
+ground, across the little piece of broken paling in the bottom of the
+dry ditch, and upon the mossy bank where his head was resting upon a
+sweet-smelling tuft of heather. Most of all it flashed and glittered
+upon the inch or two of steel which still lay buried in his side--a
+curiously shaped little dagger which, although she strove to keep her
+eyes away from it, seemed to have a sort of fascination for her. Every
+time her eyes fell upon it, she turned away quickly with a little
+shudder; but, nevertheless, she looked at it more than once--and she
+remembered it.
+
+The deep stillness of the autumn afternoon presently became almost
+oppressive to her. There was the far-off, sweet low murmur of a placid
+sea rolling in upon the base of the cliffs, the constant chirping of
+ground insects, and the occasional scurrying of a rabbit through the
+undergrowth. Once a great lean rat stole up from the ditch,
+and--horrible--ran across his body; but at the sound of her startled
+movement it paused, sat for a moment quite still, with its wide-open
+black eyes blinking at her, and then to her inexpressible relief
+scampered away. She was used to the country, with its intense unbroken
+silence, but she had never felt it so hard to bear as on that afternoon.
+Time became purely relative to her. As a matter of fact, she knew
+afterwards that she could not have been alone more than five minutes. It
+was like an eternity. She listened in vain for any human sound, even for
+the far-off sweep of the scythe in the bracken, or the call of the
+laborer to his horses. The tension of those moments was horrible.
+
+She plucked a handful of bay leaves from the ditch, and strove, by
+pressing them against her temple, to cool the fever in her blood. Then
+she took up once more her position by his side, for horrible though the
+sight of it was, his body seemed to have a sort of fascination for her,
+and she could not wander far away from it. Once or twice she had looked
+round, but there had been no human figure in sight, nor any sign of any.
+But as she knelt there on the short turf, pressing the cool leaves to
+her aching forehead, she was suddenly conscious of a new sensation.
+Without hearing or seeing anything, she knew that some one was
+approaching, and, stranger still, she was conscious of a distinct
+reluctance to turn her head and see who it was. She heard no footsteps;
+the soft stillness was broken by the sound of no human voice. She wished
+to turn round, and yet she shrank from it. Something fresh was going to
+happen--something was at hand to trouble her. She made a great effort,
+and rose to her feet. Then, breaking through her conscious reluctance,
+she turned round.
+
+A single figure, at that moment on a slightly elevated ridge of the bare
+moor, stood out against the sky. He was walking swiftly toward her, and
+yet without any appearance of hurry; and from the direction in which he
+was coming, it was evident that he had just left Falcon's Nest. This
+fact and his being unknown to her sufficiently established his identity.
+It was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+AN EVIL END TO AN EVIL LIFE
+
+
+They say that, as a rule, the most grotesquely unimportant trifles flash
+into the mind and engage the last thoughts of a drowning man. Regarding
+this in the light of an analogy, something of the same sort was now
+happening to Helen Thurwell.
+
+With her mind steeped in the horror of the last few hours, she yet found
+that she was able afterwards to recall every slight particular with
+regard to this man's appearance, and even his dress. She remembered the
+firm evenness of his movements, swift, yet free from all ungraceful
+haste; the extreme shabbiness of his coat, his ill-arranged neck-tie,
+escaped from all restraint of collar and waistcoat, and flying loosely
+behind him; his trousers very much turned up, and very much frayed, and
+the almost singular height of his loose angular figure. His face,
+too--she remembered that better than anything--with its pale hollow
+cheeks and delicate outline, deep-set dark blue eyes, black eyebrows,
+and long, unkempt hair, which would have looked very much the better for
+a little trimming. A man utterly regardless of his appearance, untidy,
+almost slovenly in his attire, yet with something about him different
+from other men.
+
+He was within a few yards of her when she saw a sudden change flash into
+his face as their eyes met. He hesitated and a faint color came into his
+cheeks, only to fade away again immediately, leaving them whiter than
+ever. There was something in his intense gaze which at that time she had
+no means of understanding. But it was over in a moment. He advanced
+rapidly, and stood by her side.
+
+She still watched him. She could see that his whole frame was vibrating
+with strong internal emotion as he looked downward on the glazed eyes
+and motionless form of the murdered man. His lips were pallid, and his
+hands were tightly clasped together. There was one thing which seemed to
+her very strange. He had not started, or exhibited the least sign of
+surprise at the dreadful sight. It was almost as though he had known all
+about it.
+
+"This is a terrible thing," she said in a low tone, breaking the silence
+between them for the first time. "You have heard of it, I suppose?"
+
+He dropped down on one knee, and bent close over the dead man, feeling
+his heart and pulse. In that position his face was hidden from her.
+
+"No; I knew nothing. He has been killed--like this?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did anyone see it? Is the man caught?"
+
+"We know nothing," she answered. "We found him like this. There was no
+one in sight."
+
+He rose deliberately to his feet. Her heart was beating fast now, and
+she looked searchingly into his face. It told her little. He was grave,
+but perfectly composed.
+
+"How is it that you are alone here?" he asked. "Does no one else know of
+this?"
+
+She moved her head in assent.
+
+"Yes; but they have all gone to hunt for the murderer. If only you had
+been looking from your window, you would have seen it all!"
+
+He did not look as though he shared her regret. He was standing on the
+other side of the dead man, with his arms folded and his eyes fixed
+steadily upon the cold white face. He seemed to have forgotten her
+presence.
+
+"An evil end to an evil life," he said slowly to himself, and then he
+added something which she did not hear.
+
+"You knew him, then?"
+
+He looked at her for a moment fixedly, and then down again into the dead
+man's face.
+
+"I have heard of him abroad," he said. "Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was a man
+with a reputation."
+
+"You will remember that he is dead," she said slowly, for the scorn in
+his words troubled her.
+
+He bowed his head, and was silent. Watching him closely, she could see
+that he was far more deeply moved than appeared on the surface. His
+teeth were set together, and there was a curious faint flush of color in
+his livid cheeks. She followed his eyes, wondering. They were fixed, not
+upon the dead man's face, but on the dagger which lay buried in his
+heart, and the handle of which was still visible.
+
+"That should be a clue," he remarked, breaking a short silence.
+
+"Yes. I hope to God that they will find the wretch!" she answered
+passionately.
+
+She looked up at him as she spoke. His eyes were traveling over the
+moor, and his hand was shading them.
+
+"There is some one coming," he said. "We shall know very soon."
+
+She followed his rapt gaze, and saw three men coming toward them. One
+was her father, another the underkeeper, and the third was a stranger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE INNER ROOM AT THE FALCON'S NEST
+
+
+Together they watched the approaching figures. Helen, standing a little
+apart, had the better view.
+
+"There is my father, and Heggs, and some one whom I do not know," she
+announced quietly. "I wonder if it is a doctor."
+
+He did not answer her. She glanced toward him, wondering at his silence
+and rigid attitude. His eyes were still bent upon the three men, and
+there was a hard, strained look in his white face. While she was
+watching him she saw a spasm of what seemed almost like physical pain
+pass across his countenance. Certainly this was no unfeeling man. In his
+way he seemed as deeply moved as she herself was.
+
+They were quite close now, and she had a good view of the stranger. He
+did not look, by any means, a person to be afraid of. In all her life
+she thought she had never seen such a handsome old gentleman--and
+gentleman he most assuredly was. His hair was quite white, and his
+beard--carefully trimmed and pointed after the fashion of one of
+Velasquez' pictures--was of the same color. Yet his walk was upright and
+vigorous, and he carried himself with dignity. His high forehead, and
+rather long, oval face, with its delicate, clearly cut features, had at
+once the stamp of intellect and benevolence, and, as though preserved by
+careful and refined living, had still much of the freshness of youth.
+He was dressed in a rough tweed walking-suit, with gaiters and thick
+boots, and carried under his arm a somewhat ponderous book, and a
+botanical specimen case. Helen felt a woman's instinctive liking for him
+before she had even heard him speak.
+
+"Have you thought us long, Helen?" her father exclaimed anxiously. "We
+haven't seen anything of the scoundrel, but Heggs was fortunate enough
+to meet Sir Allan Beaumerville on the moor, and he very kindly offered
+to return."
+
+Sir Allan was on his knees by the body before Mr. Thurwell had finished
+his sentence. They all watched his brief examination.
+
+"Poor fellow! poor fellow!" he exclaimed in a shocked tone. "That
+wretched thing"--lightly touching the handle of the dagger--"is clean
+through his heart. It was a strong, cruel arm that drove that home.
+Nothing can be done, of course. He must have died within a few seconds!"
+He rose from his knees and looked around. "What is to be done with the
+body?" he asked. "It must be removed somewhere. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+did you say it was? Dear me! dear me! I knew his sister quite well."
+
+"She is not far away," Mr. Thurwell said. "She and my daughter were
+awaiting luncheon for us on the cliffs yonder, when this horrible thing
+occurred. Lathon went back to look for her. We were afraid that she
+might follow us here. She was very fond of her brother, and he had only
+just returned home after many years' traveling."
+
+"Poor fellow!" Sir Allan said softly. "But about moving him. Who lives
+in that queer-looking place yonder?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell, who knew his tenant by sight, although they had never
+spoken, looked at him and hesitated. Sir Allan did the same.
+
+"That is where I live," Mr. Brown said slowly. "If Mr. Thurwell thinks
+well, let him be taken there."
+
+He spoke without looking round or addressing any one in particular. His
+back was turned upon the celebrated physician.
+
+"The nearest place would be best, in a case like this," Sir Allan
+remarked. "Have you sent for any help?"
+
+"Some of my men are coming across the moor there," Mr. Thurwell said,
+pointing them out. "They can take a gate off the hinges to carry him on."
+
+A little troop of awed servants, whom Lord Lathon had sent down from the
+Court, together with some farm laborers whom they had picked up on the
+way, were soon on the spot.
+
+Mr. Thurwell gave some brief directions, and in a few minutes the high
+five-barred gate, with "private" painted across it in white letters, was
+taken from its hinges, and the body carefully laid upon it. Then Mr.
+Thurwell turned resolutely to his daughter.
+
+"Helen, you must go home now," he said firmly. "Jackson will take you.
+We can spare him easily."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"I would rather stay," she said quietly. "I shall not faint, or do
+anything stupid, I promise you."
+
+Sir Allan Beaumerville looked at her curiously. It was a strange thing
+to him, notwithstanding his wide experience, to find a girl of her years
+so little outwardly moved by so terrible a tragedy. Mr. Thurwell, too,
+was surprised. He knew that she had never loved Sir Geoffrey Kynaston,
+but, nevertheless, he had expected her to show more emotion than this,
+if only for the horror of it all. And yet, looking at her more closely,
+he began to understand--to realize that her calmness was only attained
+by a strenuous repression of feeling, and that underneath it all was
+something very different. Though her voice was firm, her cheeks were
+deadly pale, and there was a peculiar tightening of the lips and light
+in her eyes which puzzled him. Her expression seemed to speak less of
+passive grief, than of some active determination--some strong desire.
+She had all the appearance of a woman who was bracing herself up for
+some ordeal, nerving herself with all the stimulus of a firm will to
+triumph over her natural feelings, and follow out a difficult purpose.
+Mr. Thurwell scarcely recognized his own daughter. She was no longer a
+somewhat languid, beautiful girl, looking out upon the world with a sort
+of petulant indifference--petulant, because, with all the high
+aspirations of a somewhat romantic disposition, she could see nothing in
+it to interest her. All that had passed away. The warm breath of some
+awakening force in her nature seemed to have swept before it all her
+languor, and all her petulance. They were gone, and in their place was a
+certain air of reserve and thoughtful strength which seems always to
+cling to those men and women who face the world with a definite purpose
+before them. Mr. Thurwell knitted his brows, and had nothing to say.
+
+A sad little procession was formed, and started slowly for the cottage
+on the cliff side, the four stalwart men stooping beneath their heavy
+burden, and somehow falling into the measured steady tramp common to
+corpse bearers. None of them ever forgot that walk. Slowly they wound
+their way around many brilliant patches of deep yellow gorse and purple
+heather, and the warm sunlight glancing across the moor and glittering
+away over the water threw a strange glow upon the still, cold face of
+their ghastly burden. A soft breeze sprung from the sea, herald of the
+advancing eventide, following the drowsy languor of the perfect autumnal
+day. The faintly stirred air was full of its quickening exhilaration,
+but it found no human response in their heavy hearts. Solemn thoughts
+and silence came over all of them. Scarcely a word was spoken on the way
+to their destination.
+
+By some chance, or at least it seemed like chance, Helen found herself a
+few steps behind the others, with Mr. Brown by her side. They, too,
+walked along in unbroken silence. His eyes were steadily fixed upon the
+ground, hers were wandering idly across the sparkling blue sea with its
+foam-crested furrows to the horizon. Whatever her thoughts were, they
+had changed her expression for the time; to a certain extent its late
+definiteness was gone, and a dreamy, refined abstraction had taken its
+place.
+
+"If I had to die," she said, half to herself, "I would choose to die on
+such a day as this."
+
+He raised his dark eyes and looked at her.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I scarcely know," she said hesitatingly. "And yet, in my own mind, I
+do. It is so beautiful! It seems to give one a sense of peace and
+hope--I cannot explain it. It is the sort of thing one feels, and feels
+only."
+
+He looked down again.
+
+"I know what you mean. You would fear annihilation less?"
+
+"Annihilation! Is that your creed?"
+
+"Sometimes, if it were not for scenes like this, I might believe it
+possible," he answered slowly. "As it is, I do not! The exquisite beauty
+of the earth denies it! I pin my faith to a great analogy. The natural
+world is a reflex of the spiritual, and in the natural world there is no
+annihilation. Nothing can ever die. Nor can our souls ever die."
+
+She looked at him keenly. The dreamy speculation had gone from her eyes.
+The fire of her former purpose had returned.
+
+"It is well to feel like that. You would rather be Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, then, than his murderer, even now?"
+
+He raised his hand quickly to his forehead, as though in pain. It was
+gone in an instant, but she had been watching.
+
+"Yes, I would," he answered fervently. "Sir Geoffrey was a wicked man,
+but he may have repented. He had his opportunities."
+
+"How do you know that he was wicked?" she asked quickly.
+
+"I heard of him abroad--many years ago. Will you excuse me, Miss
+Thurwell. I must hurry on and open the door for them."
+
+He walked swiftly on, leaving her alone. When they reached their
+destination, he was there waiting for them.
+
+It was a strangely situated and strangely built abode. A long low
+building of deep yellow stone, half hidden by various creepers, and
+inaccessible on the side from which they approached it save to foot
+passengers. From the bottom of the winding path which they had to climb
+it seemed to hang almost sheer over the cliff side. A thickly growing
+patch of stunted pine trees rising abruptly in the background literally
+overtopped the tiled roof. From the summit of this plantation to the sea
+was one abrupt precipice, thickly overgrown for the first hundred feet
+or so by pine trees growing out from the side of the cliff in strange
+huddled fashion, the haunt of sea birds and a few daring rabbits.
+
+They passed in at the hand-gate, and toiled up the steep path, threading
+their way among a wilderness of overgrown box shrubs, long dank grass
+and strange weeds. Helen, with her eyes fixed upon an open window on the
+right wing of the cottage, fell a little behind. The others came to a
+halt before the open door.
+
+Mr. Brown met them and preceded them along the passage.
+
+"I think he had better be carried in here," he said, motioning toward
+the room on the left-hand side, the side remote from the sea. "I have
+brought a sofa."
+
+They stood on the threshold and looked in. The room was absolutely
+unfurnished, and the shutters had only just been thrown back, letting in
+long level gleams of sunlight, which fell upon the bare floor and damp
+walls, from which the discolored paper was commencing to peel off. Long
+cobwebs hung from the ceiling, waving slowly backward and forward in the
+unaccustomed draught. Helen Thurwell, who had just joined the little
+group, with a curious light in her eyes, and a deep spot of color in her
+pale cheeks, looked around and shivered. Mr. Thurwell, with a landlord's
+instinct, began to wonder who was at fault, his agent or his tenant.
+
+The four men tramped in, their footsteps sounding dreary and mournful on
+the uncarpeted floor, and awakening strange rumbling echoes. Helen
+looked at them for a moment, all clustered round the single sofa which
+stood in the middle of the apartment, and then stepped softly back again
+into the hall. She looked around her eagerly, yet with no idle
+curiosity.
+
+The whole interior of the place appeared bare and comfortless. There
+were no rugs in the hall, no carpet on the stairs, nor a single sign of
+habitation. Nor was there any servant about. She looked again into the
+room out of which she had just stepped. They were preparing to lift the
+body from the gate, which they had laid upon the floor, on to the sofa.
+She stepped back into the hall, and listened. There was no sound from
+any other part of the house. They were all too deeply engrossed to think
+of her. It was her chance!
+
+She was very pale, and very resolute. The look which had come into her
+face for so short a time ago had had its meaning. The time for action
+had come. It was sooner than she had expected; but she was ready.
+
+With swift noiseless step she crossed the hall and softly turned the
+handle of the door on the opposite side. It opened at once, and she
+stepped inside. She listened again. As yet she was undetected. She drew
+a little breath and glanced searchingly around her.
+
+This room, too, was unfurnished, save that the floor was covered with
+cases full of books. Straight in front of her was another door, leading,
+as she knew, into a smaller apartment. Dare she go forward? She listened
+for a moment. There was no sound save the low muffled voices of the men
+who were lifting Sir Geoffrey on to the couch. Supposing she were
+discovered here? At the most, she would be suspected of a vulgar
+curiosity. It all flashed through her mind in a moment, and her decision
+was taken. Gathering her skirts in her hand lest they should catch
+against the edges of the cases, she threaded her way through them, and
+stood before the door of the inner room. She tried the handle. It
+yielded easily to her touch. She had gone too far to draw back now. In a
+moment she had passed the threshold, and the whole contents of the
+little room were disclosed to her.
+
+Of all the senses, the eyes seem to carry the most lasting impression to
+the brain. One eager glance around, and the whole seemed photographed
+into her memory. A little strip of faded carpet only half covering the
+floor, piles upon piles of books, and a small table littered all over
+with foolscap, a few fine prints and etchings roughly hung upon the
+walls, a group of exquisite statuettes all huddled together, and an oak
+cabinet strongly bound with brass clasps--they were the things she
+chiefly remembered. The whole room was in the wildest disorder, as
+though the contents had been just shot inside and left to arrange
+themselves.
+
+After that single cursory glance, Helen looked no more around her. Her
+whole attention was riveted upon the window exactly opposite. As she had
+seen from the outside, it was wide open, and several branches of a shrub
+growing up against it were broken off. From the leaves of the same shrub
+several drops of water were hanging, and on the ground below was a wet
+patch. She looked back into the room again. In one corner was an empty
+basin, and by its side, rolled up tightly, was a rough towel.
+
+Before she could make any movement in that direction, another thing
+struck her. On a certain spot close by the side of the basin a pile of
+books was arranged in disorderly fashion enough, but with some little
+method. An idea flashed in upon her. They were arranged in that manner
+to hide something upon the floor.
+
+She made a quick motion forward. Then she stopped short, and lifted her
+eyes to the door. Her cheeks burned, and her heart beat fast. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was standing on the threshold, looking at her in mute
+amazement, and over his shoulder was the pale stern face of Mr. Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A TERRIBLE ENEMY
+
+
+Afterwards Helen looked back upon those few moments as the most
+uncomfortable of her life. She was caught in the very act of a most
+unwarrantable and even immodest intrusion, which in the eyes of these
+two men could only appear like the attempted gratification of a
+reprehensible and vulgar curiosity. She made one spasmodic attempt to
+kindle her suspicions into a definite accusation, to stand upon her
+dignity, and demand an explanation of what she had seen. But she failed
+utterly. Directly she tried to clothe the shreds of this idea of hers
+with words, and to express them, she seemed to vividly realize the
+almost ludicrous improbability of the whole thing. One glance into the
+pale, dignified face which was bent upon her full of unconcerned
+surprise--and hateful to her with a gentle shade of pity at her
+confusion already creeping into it--and her attempt collapsed. She felt
+her cheeks burn with shame, and her eyes drooped before his steady gaze.
+She began to long feverishly for something to dissolve the situation.
+The silence was dreadful to her, but she could think of nothing to say.
+It was Mr. Brown, at last, who spoke.
+
+"I was afraid you would not be able to find your way, Miss Thurwell," he
+said quietly. "I must apologize for asking you to come into such a den.
+The small engraving on the wall is the proof 'Bartolozzi' I spoke to you
+about. The head is perfect, is it not? Some day I should like to show
+you my 'Guido.' I am afraid, just now, I could not expect you to
+appreciate them."
+
+She murmured something--what, she scarcely knew, and he did not appear
+to hear. The cold surprise disappeared from Sir Allan's face. Evidently
+he believed in Mr. Brown's mercifully offered explanation of her
+presence here.
+
+"What! are you an enthusiast, Miss Thurwell?" he exclaimed. "Well, well,
+I was worse myself once in my younger days, before my profession made a
+slave of me. Surely, that is a genuine 'Velasquez,' Mr. Brown. Upon my
+word! Fancy coming across such a treasure here!"
+
+He picked his way across the disorderly chamber, and, adjusting his
+eyeglass, stood looking at the picture. Helen made a hasty movement
+towards the door, and Mr. Brown followed her into the adjoining room.
+
+"If I had known that I was to be honored by a visit from a lady," he
+said, "I would have endeavored----"
+
+She turned suddenly round upon him with flaming cheeks.
+
+"Don't," she interrupted, almost beseechingly. "Mr. Brown, you were very
+good to me just then. Thank you! I was most abominably rude to go into
+that room without your permission."
+
+Her eyes were fixed upon the floor, and her distress was evident. It was
+clear that she felt her position acutely.
+
+"Pray say no more about it," he begged earnestly. "It isn't worth a
+second thought."
+
+She stopped with her back to one of the great cases filled with books,
+and hesitated. Should she confess to him frankly why she had gone
+there, and ask his pardon for such a wild thought? She raised her eyes
+slowly, and looked at him. Of course it was absurd. She has been out of
+her mind, she knew that now; and yet----
+
+She looked at him more closely still. He had not seemed in any way
+disturbed when they had found her in that room--only a little surprised
+and bewildered. And yet, after all, supposing his composed demeanor had
+been only assumed. He was certainly very pale, very pale indeed, and
+there was a slight twitching of his hands which was out of character
+with his absolute impassiveness. Supposing it should be a forced
+composure. He looked like a man capable of exercising a strong control
+over his feelings. Supposing it should be so. Was there not, after all,
+just a chance that her former suspicions were correct?
+
+The action of the mind is instantaneous. All these thoughts and doubts
+merely flashed through it, and they left her very confused and
+undecided. Her sense of gratitude towards him for shielding her before
+Sir Allan Beaumerville, and the intuitive sympathy of her nature with
+the delicacy and tact which he had shown in his manner of doing so, were
+on the whole stronger than her shadowy suspicions. And yet these latter
+had just sufficient strength to check the impulse of generosity which
+prompted her to confess everything to him. She did not tell him why she
+had started on the quest which had come to such an ignominious
+conclusion. She offered him no explanation whatever.
+
+"It was very good of you," she repeated. "I did not deserve it at all.
+And now I must go and look for my father."
+
+Mr. Thurwell was waiting in the hall, somewhat surprised at her
+absence. But he asked no questions. His thoughts were too full of the
+terrible thing which had happened to his friend and neighbor--and withal
+his daughter's betrothed.
+
+They walked back across the moor together, saying very little, for there
+was only one possible subject for conversation, and both of them shrank
+a little from speaking about it. But when they were more than half-way
+to their destination, she asked a question.
+
+"Nothing has been discovered, I suppose, of the murderer?"
+
+Her father shook his head.
+
+"Nothing. The dagger is our only clue as yet--except this."
+
+He drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and touched it lightly
+with his finger.
+
+"What is it? May I see?"
+
+He handed it to her at once.
+
+"It was in his pocket," he said. "I am keeping it to hand over to the
+proper authorities. Mr. Brown offered to take care of it, but I felt
+that, as a magistrate, I was in a measure responsible for everything in
+the shape of a clue, so I brought it away with me. Read it."
+
+She opened the half sheet of notepaper and glanced down it. It was
+written in a queer cramped handwriting--evidently disguised.
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, you are doing a very rash and foolish thing in
+coming back to your own country, and thereby publishing your whereabouts
+to the world. Have you forgotten what hangs over you--or can you be so
+mad as to think that he has forgiven? Read this as a warning; and if
+life is in any way dear to you, go back to that hiding which alone has
+kept you safe for so many years. Do not hesitate or delay for one
+half-hour--one minute may be too long. If, after reading this, you
+linger in England, and disregard my warning, take care that you look
+into your life and hold yourself prepared to die."
+
+She gave it back to him. There was some one, then, whom he had injured
+very deeply. It was like an echo from that stormy past of which many
+people had spoken.
+
+"He had an enemy," she murmured, passing her arm through her father's.
+
+"It seems so," he answered. "A terrible enemy."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+HELEN THURWELL'S SUSPICIONS
+
+
+On a certain September day, about six weeks after the funeral of Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, Mr. Brown was spending what appeared to be a very
+pleasant afternoon. He was lying stretched out at full length on a dry
+mossy bank, with a volume of Shelley in his hand, and a case of thick
+Egyptian cigarettes by his side. In his ears was the whispering of the
+faint breeze amongst the pines, and the soft murmuring of the sea,
+hundreds of feet below, seen like a brilliant piece of patchwork through
+the fluttering leaves and dark tree-trunks which surrounded him. There
+was nothing to disturb the sweet silence of the drowsy afternoon. It was
+a charming spot which he had chosen, and he was quite alone. People,
+amongst whom for the last few weeks his name had become a fruitful
+source of conversation, were already beginning to fancy him flying
+across the country in an express train, or loitering on the docks at
+Liverpool, waiting for an Atlantic liner, or sitting at home trembling
+and fearful, struggling to hide his guilt beneath a calm exterior. But,
+as a matter of fact, he was doing none of these things. The harsh
+excitement of the busy gossips, and their stern judgment, troubled him
+nothing, for he was unconscious of them. He was away in thoughtland,
+dreaming of a fair, proud young face seen first on the rude pavement of
+an old Italian town, where its sweet composed freshness, amongst a pile
+of magnificent ruins, had captivated his artist's sense almost before it
+had touched his man's heart. He thought of the narrow street shutting in
+the sky till, looking upwards, it seemed like one deep band of glorious
+blue--of the ruined grey palace, with still some traces left of its
+former stately grace, and of the fountain playing in the moss-encrusted
+courtyard, gleaming like silver in the sunlight as it rose and fell into
+the worn stone basin. Here, where the very air seemed full of the
+records of a magnificent decay, everything seemed to form a fitting
+framework in his memory for that one face. It had been an artist's
+dream--or had it been the man's? Never the latter; he told himself
+sadly. Such were not for him. It had been better far that he had never
+seen her again. Before, the memory had been a very sweet one, stored
+away in his mind amongst all the great and beautiful things he had seen
+in his wanderings, always with a dainty freshness clinging to it, as
+though it had lain carefully preserved in perfume and spices. Was this
+new joy, of having seen and spoken to her, a better thing? this vague
+unsettlement of his being, which played havoc with his thoughts, and
+stirred up a whole host of strange new feelings in his heart? Surely
+not! It seemed to him like the breathing of warm new life into what had
+been a crystallized emotion--the humanizing of something spiritual.
+Surely, for him, it had better have remained in that first stage.
+
+There was the sound of a light footstep on the springy turf. He started
+to his feet. A girl, tall and slim, was coming swiftly along the winding
+path through the plantation towards him. He knew at once that it was
+Helen Thurwell.
+
+They were both equally surprised. As she looked up and saw him standing
+upright in the narrow path, tall, thin, and unnaturally pale, with the
+cigarette still burning between his fingers, and his book in his other
+hand, she felt strangely stirred. Neither was he unmoved by her sudden
+appearance, for though not a feature twitched, not a single gleam of
+color relieved the still pallor of his face, there was a new light in
+his dry brilliant eyes. But there was a vast difference between the
+thoughts which flashed into his mind and those which filled hers. To him
+there had stolen a sweetness into the summer's day surpassing the soft
+sunlight, and a presence which moved every pulse in his being, and crept
+like maddening fire through every sense. And to her, the sight of him
+was simply a signal to brace up all her powers of perception; to watch
+with suspicion every change of his features, and every tone of his
+voice. Had he shown any emotion at the sight of her, she would have
+attributed it to a guilty conscience, and would have made note of it in
+her mind against him. And as he showed none--none, at least, that she
+could detect--she put it down to the exercise of a strong will, and was
+a little disappointed. For she had gone with the tide, and, womanlike,
+having embraced an idea, it had already become as truth to her. Mr.
+Brown was the man who had murdered Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. It was a
+murderer with whom she was standing side by side among the glancing
+shadows of the rustling pine groves. It must be so!
+
+Yet she did not shrink from him. After her first hesitation at the sight
+of a man's figure standing up amongst the dark tree-trunks, she had
+walked steadily on until she had reached him. And he, without any change
+of countenance, had simply stood and watched her. God! how beautiful
+she was! The sunlight, gleaming through the tops of the trees in long
+slanting rays, played like fire upon her red-gold hair; and the plain
+black gown, which yielded easily to her graceful movements, seemed to
+show every line of her supple yet delicate figure. She came nearer
+still, so near that he could trace the faint blue veins in her forehead,
+and once more recall the peculiar color of her eyes. Then he spoke to
+her, raising his hand with a suddenly returning instinct of
+conventionality for his cap; but he had risen without it, and was
+standing before her bare-headed.
+
+"I am a trespasser, I fear," he said hesitatingly.
+
+She came to a standstill by his side, and shook her head slowly.
+
+"No, this is common land. There is a footpath, you see, although it is
+seldom used. It leads nowhere but to the Court."
+
+"It is a favorite walk of mine," he said.
+
+"Yes, it is pleasant. You bring a companion with you," she remarked,
+pointing to his book.
+
+He glanced down at it, and then up at her again.
+
+"Yes; a faithful friend, too. We spend a good deal of time out of doors
+together."
+
+She read the title, and glanced up at him with a shade of interest in
+her face.
+
+"Shelley was a great poet, I suppose," she said; "but I do not
+understand him."
+
+For the first time his expression changed. A sudden light swept across
+his face, and in a moment it was glowing with sensibility and
+enthusiasm. She looked at him astonished. He stood before her revealed
+in a new light, and, although unwillingly, she saw him with different
+eyes.
+
+"Not understand Shelley! Ah! but that is because you have not tried,
+then. If you had, you would not only understand, but you would love
+him."
+
+She shook her head. In reality she felt that he was right, that her
+languid attempts to read him by a drawing-room fire, with the _Queen_
+beside her, and her mind very full of very little things, had not been
+the spirit in which to approach a great poet. But, partly out of womanly
+perversity, and partly out of curiosity to hear what he would say, she
+chose to dissent from him.
+
+"I find him too mystical," she said; "too incomprehensible."
+
+He looked down at her from his superior height with kindling eyes. It
+was odd how greatly she was surprised in him. She had imagined him to be
+a cynic.
+
+"Mystical!" he repeated. "Yes, in a certain sense, he is so; and it is
+his greatest charm. But incomprehensible!--no. The essence of all
+artistic poetry is in the perfect blending of matter and form, so that
+the meaning creeps in upon us, but with a certain vagueness, a certain
+indefiniteness, which reaches us more in the shade of a dreamy
+consciousness than through the understanding. May I give you an
+illustration? We stand upon a low plain and gaze upon a far-off range of
+hills, from the sides of which thick clouds of white mist are hanging.
+Gradually, as the sun rises higher in the heavens, they float away, and
+we begin dimly to see through a clearer atmosphere the yellow corn
+waving on the brown hillside, the smoke rising from the lonely
+farmhouse, and, if we have patience and wait still, by-and-by we can
+even distinguish the brilliant patches of wild flowers, the poppies and
+the cornflowers in the golden fields, and the marsh marigolds in the
+meadows at the foot of the hill. It is a question of waiting long
+enough. So it is with what people call mysticism in poetry."
+
+For the first time for many months a faint color had found its way into
+his wan cheeks. His face was alight with interest, and his dark eyes
+shone from their deep hollows with a new, soft fire. From that moment he
+assumed a new place in her thoughts. She was loath to grant it to him,
+but she had no alternative. Guilty or innocent, this man had something
+in him which placed him high above other men in her estimation. She felt
+stirred in a manner peculiarly grateful to her. It was as though every
+chord of her being had been tuned into fresh harmony; as though the hand
+of a magician had lifted the curtain which had enclosed her too narrow
+life, and had shown her a new world glowing with beauty and promise.
+She, too, wanted to feel like that; to taste the pleasures which this
+man tasted, and to feel the enthusiasm which had lit up his pale
+scholarly face.
+
+At that moment her mind was too full to harbor those dark suspicions.
+With a sudden effort she threw them overboard, trampled on them, scouted
+them. Was this the face and the tongue of a murderer? Surely not!
+
+"Thank you," she said softly. "I shall like to think over what you have
+said. Now I must go."
+
+Her words seemed to bring him back to his old self. He stooped down and
+picked up his cap.
+
+"You are going back to the Court?" he asked. "Let me walk to the end of
+the plantation with you."
+
+She assented silently, and they turned along the narrow path side by
+side. Below them a bracken-covered cliff, studded with dwarfed trees,
+ran down to the sea; and on their left hand the black firs, larger and
+growing more thickly together, shut out completely the open moorland
+beyond. He had walked there before beneath a sky of darker blue, and
+when there had been only stray gleams of moonlight shining through the
+cone-laden boughs to show him the rough path; and he had been there when
+the tree-tops had bent beneath the shrieking wind, when the black clouds
+had been flying over his head, and the roar of the angry sea had filled
+the air with thunder. And these things had stirred him--one of nature's
+sons--in many ways. Yet none of them had sent the warm blood coursing
+through his veins like quicksilver, or had stolen through his senses
+with such sweet heart-stirring impetuosity as did the presence of this
+tall, fair girl, walking serenely by his side in thoughtful silence.
+Once, when too near the edge of the cliff, she put her foot on a
+fir-cone and stumbled, and the touch of her hand, as he caught hold of
+it to steady her, sent a thrill of keen, exquisite pleasure through his
+whole frame. He held it perhaps a little longer than necessary, and she
+let him. For the moment she had lost the sense of physical touch, and
+the firm grasp of his fingers upon hers seemed to her, in a certain
+sense, only an analogy to the sudden sympathy which had sprung up
+between them. Even when realization came, she drew her hand away gently,
+without anger, without undue haste even. One glance into his face at
+that moment would have told her everything; the whole horror of the
+situation would have flashed in upon her, and she would have been
+overwhelmed. But she did not look, and long before they had come to the
+end of the path the passionate light had died out from his eyes, and had
+left no trace behind. Once more he was only a plain, sad-looking man,
+hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked, with bent head and stooping frame.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DID YOU KILL SIR GEOFFREY KYNASTON?
+
+
+At the extremity of the plantation they came to a small wicket-gate
+opening out on to the cliff top. From here there was a path inland to
+the Court, whilst Falcon's Nest was straight in front of them. At the
+parting of the ways they hesitated, for it seemed necessary that they
+should part.
+
+And whilst they looked around a little dazzled, having just emerged from
+the darkness of the plantation, they were conscious of a new glory in
+the heavens. Far away across the moorland the autumn sun had shot its
+last rays over the level plain and sea, and had sunk quietly to rest. It
+was not one of Turner's wild sunsets. There were no banks of angry
+clouds full of lurid coloring, flashing their glory all over the western
+sky. But in a different fashion it was equally beautiful. Long level
+streaks of transparent light, emerging from an ethereal green to a deep
+orange, lay stretched across the heavens, and a faint golden haze rising
+from the land seemed to mingle with them, and form one harmonious mass
+of coloring. And the air too was different--purer and rarer than the
+enervating atmosphere of the drowsy afternoon. Together they stood and
+became subject to the subtle charm of their environment. It seemed to
+Helen Thurwell then that a change was creeping into her life. Impersonal
+thought had attained a new strength and a new sweetness. But at that
+time she had no knowledge of what it meant.
+
+"See!" he exclaimed softly, pointly westward, "there is what Coleridge
+made dear to us for ever, and Byron vainly scoffed at--the 'green light
+that lingers in the west.'"
+
+He repeated the stanza absently, and half to himself, with a sudden
+oblivion of her presence--
+
+    "It were a vain endeavor,
+     Though I should gaze for ever
+     On that green light that lingers in the west.
+     I may not hope from outward forms to win
+     The passion and the life whose fountains are within."
+
+She watched him as his voice sank lower and lower, and though his eyes
+were dry and bright, she saw a look of intense sadness sweep across his
+face. Almost she felt inclined to let her natural sympathy escape
+her--to let loose the kind and tender words which had leapt up from her
+heart, and even trembled upon her lips. But a rush of consciousness
+came, and she choked them back. Thus much she could do, but no more. She
+could not at that moment look upon him as the man already suspected in
+many quarters of a most brutal murder. For the instant, all was blotted
+out. Had she tried she could not at that moment have revived her own
+suspicions. They seemed to her like some grotesque fungi of the
+mind--poisonous weeds to be crushed and destroyed. But the seed was
+there.
+
+"Those are the saddest lines I ever read," she said quietly. "It is a
+true ode to dejection."
+
+"And therefore they are very precious," he answered. "It is always sweet
+to find your own emotions so exquisitely expressed. It is like a
+spiritual narcotic."
+
+"And yet--yet such poems encourage sadness, and that is morbid."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"To be sad is not necessarily to be unhappy," he answered. "That sounds
+like a paradox, but it isn't! You remember the 'gentle melancholy' which
+Milton loved. There is something sweet in that, is there not?"
+
+"But it is not like that with you," she said quickly.
+
+He threw his arms up into the air with a sudden wild gesture of absolute
+despair. She had touched a chord in his nature too roughly, and it had
+not stood the strain. For a moment he had thrown off his mask. His white
+face was ghastly, and his eyes were burning with a hopeless passion.
+
+"My God! No!" he cried. "I am in the depths of hell, with never a gleam
+of hope to lead me on. And the sin--the sin----"
+
+He stopped suddenly, and his hands fell to his side. Slowly he turned
+round and looked at her, half doubtfully, half fearfully. What had he
+said? What had she heard? What did that look in her face mean--that look
+of anguish, of fear, of horror? Why did she not speak, even though it
+were to accuse him? Anything rather than that awful silence.
+
+Twice she moved her white lips, but no sound came. The power of
+articulation seemed gone. Then she caught him by the arm, and turned him
+slowly round so that he faced his cottage. Only a few yards below them
+was the spot where she and her sister-in-law that was to have been had
+lolled in their low chairs by the luncheon-table, and had begun to feel
+impatient for the coming of one who had never come. Further away still,
+across the moor, was that dark circular patch of plantation behind which
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston had been found, and away upon the cliffs
+overlooking the scene of the murder was Falcon's Nest.
+
+The grasp on his arm tightened. Then she stretched out her other hand,
+and with shaking fingers pointed downwards--pointed to the very spot
+where the deed had been done. The memory of it all came back to her, and
+hardened her set white face. She looked him straight in the eyes without
+a quiver, and clenched her teeth.
+
+"Did you--do that?" she asked in a firm, hard tone.
+
+A curious mind slumber seemed to have crept over him. His eyes followed
+her outstretched hand, and his lips idly repeated her words.
+
+"Did you kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"
+
+Her words fell sharp and clear upon the still air. A tremor passed
+through his whole frame, and the light of a sudden understanding flashed
+across his face. He was his old self again, and more than his old self.
+
+"You are joking, of course, Miss Thurwell?" he said quietly. "You do not
+mean that seriously?"
+
+She caught her breath, and looked at him. After all, it is only a step
+from tragedy to commonplace. He was deathly pale, but calm and composed.
+He had conquered himself just in time. Another moment, and she felt
+assured that she would have known all. Never mind! it should come, she
+told herself. The end was not yet.
+
+"No; of course I did not mean it seriously," she repeated slowly. "Who
+are those men coming up the hill? Can you see?"
+
+He moved a little nearer to her, and looked downward. On the slope of
+the hill were three men. She had recognized them already, and she
+watched him steadily.
+
+"Your father is one," he said quietly. "The other two are strangers to
+me."
+
+"Perhaps I can tell you something about them," she said, still watching
+him intently. "One is the constable from Mallory, and the other is a
+detective."
+
+There was a slight hardening of his face, and she fancied that she saw
+his under lip quiver for a moment. Had he shown any guilty fear, had he
+shrunk back, or uttered a single moan, her sympathy would never have
+been aroused. But as it was, she was a woman, and her face softened,
+and the tears stood in her eyes. There was something almost grand
+in the composure with which he was waiting for what seemed
+inevitable--something of the magnificent resignation with which the
+noblemen of France one by one took their place at the block, and the
+simile was heightened by the slightly contemptuous, slightly defiant
+poise of his finely shaped head. She saw him cast one lingering glance
+around at the still sea, with its far-off motionless sails; at the clear
+sky, from which the brilliancy of coloring was fading away, and at the
+long sweep of moorland with its brilliant patches of heather and gorse,
+now slightly blurred by the mists rising from the earth. It was as
+though he were saying a last farewell to things which he had loved, and
+which he would see no more--and it had a strange effect upon her. The
+memory of that hideous crime left her. She could think only of the
+abstract pathos of the present situation, and she felt very miserable.
+It was wrong, unnatural of her; but at that moment, if she could have
+helped him to escape, she would have done her best in the face of them
+all.
+
+They were almost at hand now, and she lifted her eyes, in which the
+tears were fast gathering. She thought nothing of her own situation--of
+their finding her alone with the murderer. With characteristic
+unselfishness she thought only of him.
+
+She met her father's surprised gaze with indifference. She had a sort of
+feeling that nothing mattered much. What was going to happen eclipsed
+everything else.
+
+And so it did. Her apathy changed in a moment to amazement, and her
+heart stood still. Her father had raised his hat to Mr. Brown with even
+more than the usual courtesy of his salute, and the two officials had
+saluted in the most correct fashion.
+
+"Mr. Brown," he said, "we have all come in search of you to tender our
+most sincere apologies for an unfortunate mistake. Police Constable
+Chopping here is mostly to blame, and next to him, I am."
+
+She glanced at the man by her side. His face was absolutely
+impenetrable. It showed no signs of the relief which was creeping into
+hers. His composure was simply wonderful.
+
+"The fact is," her father continued, "Chopping came to see me with a
+long tale and a certain request which, under the circumstances--which I
+will explain to you afterwards--I could not as a magistrate refuse. I
+was compelled to sign a search warrant for him to go over Falcon's Nest.
+It was against my inclination, and a most unpleasant duty for me to
+perform. But I considered it my duty, and I attended there myself in
+order that it might not be abused. I hope to have your forgiveness for
+the liberty which we were compelled to take."
+
+There was still no change in Mr. Brown's face, but, standing close to
+him, she heard him take a quick deep breath. Curiously enough, it was a
+relief to her to hear it. Such great self-restraint was almost
+unnatural.
+
+"You only did your duty, Mr. Thurwell," he answered quietly. "You owe me
+no apology."
+
+"I am very glad that you see it in that light," Mr. Thurwell said, "very
+glad indeed. But I have a further confession to make."
+
+He drew Mr. Brown a little on one side, out of hearing of the others,
+but nearer to her than any of them, and commenced talking earnestly to
+him. This time she could tell that he was disturbed and uneasy, but she
+could not follow connectedly all her father said. Only a few stray words
+reached her.
+
+"Very sorry indeed.... Quite accidental.... Will preserve ...
+discovery."
+
+"Then I may rely upon you to keep this absolutely to yourself?" she
+heard Mr. Brown say earnestly.
+
+"I give you my word, sir!" her father answered. Then they turned round,
+and she saw that Mr. Brown looked distinctly annoyed.
+
+"However did you come here, Helen?" her father asked, suddenly
+remembering her presence.
+
+"I came for a walk, and met Mr. Brown in the plantation," she explained.
+
+"Well, since you are here," he remarked good humoredly, "you must help
+me to induce Mr. Brown to come back to the Court. So far, we have been
+wretched neighbors. We shall insist upon his dining with us, just to
+show that there's no ill-feeling," he added, smiling. "Now, no excuses."
+
+"Thank you, but I never go out," Mr. Brown answered. "I have not even
+any clothes here. So----"
+
+"Please come, Mr. Brown," she said softly.
+
+He flashed a sudden glance at her from his dark eyes, which brought the
+color streaming into her cheeks. Fortunately, twilight was commencing to
+fall, and she was standing a little back in the shadow of the
+plantation.
+
+"If Miss Thurwell wishes it," he said, in a tone of a man who offers
+himself to lead a forlorn hope, "it is settled. I will come."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+MR. BROWN DINES AT THE COURT
+
+
+Both to him and to her there was something strangely unreal in the
+little banquet to which they three--Mr. Thurwell, his daughter, and his
+tenant--sat down that evening. For many months afterwards, until,
+indeed, after the culmination of the tragedy in which she was the
+principal moving figure, Helen Thurwell looked back upon that night with
+strangely mingled feelings. It was the dawn of a new era in her
+existence, a fact which she never doubted, although she struggled vainly
+against it. And to him it was like a sudden transition into fairyland.
+The long years of lonely life and rigorous asceticism through which he
+had passed had been a period of no ordinary self-denial. Instinctively
+and with his whole nature the man was an artist. His homely fare,
+ill-cooked and ill-served among dreary surroundings, had for long been a
+horror to him. Whatever his reasons for such absolute isolation had
+been, they had sprung from no actual delight in rough living or
+non-appreciation of the refinements of civilized society. He realized to
+the full extent the sybaritic pleasures which now surrounded him. The
+white tablecloth flaming with daintily modeled plate and cut glass, the
+brilliant coloring of the scarlet and yellow flowers, the aromatic
+perfume of the chrysanthemums mingling with the faint scent of exotics,
+the luscious fruits, and the softly shaded table lights which threw a
+rich glow over the lovely face opposite to him--all these things had
+their own peculiar effect in the shape of a certain subtle exhilaration
+which was not slow to show itself. With scarcely an effort he threw off
+the old mask of reserve, with all the little awkwardnesses and
+gaucheries which it had entailed, and appeared as the shadow of the self
+of former days--a cultured, polished man of the world. Even Mr.
+Thurwell's good breeding was scarcely sufficient to conceal his surprise
+at the metamorphosis. Never before, at his table, had there been such a
+brilliant flow of conversation--conversation which had all the rare art
+of appearing general, whereas it was indeed nothing less than a
+monologue on the part of this strange guest. He had traveled far, he had
+seen great things in many countries, and he had known great men; and he
+talked lightly about them all, with the keen appreciation of the artist,
+and the graceful diction of the scholar. He was a man who had lived in
+the world--every little action and turn of speech denoted it. The French
+dishes--Mr. Thurwell was proud of his chef--were no secret to him, and
+he knew all about the vintages of the wines he was drinking. In the
+whole course of his experience, Mr. Thurwell had never entertained such
+a guest as this, and it was a sore trial to his good manners to abstain
+from any astonished comment on the lonely life his tenant had been
+lately leading.
+
+And Helen sat listening to it all with a sort of dreamy content stealing
+over her, out of which she was stirred every now and then into
+enthusiasm by some brilliant criticism or fresh turn to the
+conversation. At such times her gray luminous eyes, with their strange
+dash of foreign color, would light up and flash their sympathetic
+approval across the few feet of tablecloth blazing with many-colored
+flowers and fruits and glittering silver. And he grew to look for this,
+and to receive it with an answering glance from his own dark eyes, full
+of a strange light and power. She, watching him more keenly than her
+father could, was conscious of something that altogether escaped him, a
+sort of undercurrent of suppressed excitement which never rose to the
+surface, and revealed itself in none of his mannerisms or his tone. But
+it was there, and she felt it--felt it more than ever when their eyes
+met, and hers were forced to droop before the steady fire in his, which
+more than once brought the faint color into her cheeks, and sent a new
+sensation quivering through her being.
+
+Dinner came to an end at last, but when she rose to go her father
+protested. She generally sat with him while he smoked a cigarette and
+drank his coffee. Why should she go away now? They were making no
+stranger of Mr. Brown. And so she stayed.
+
+Presently she found herself strolling round the room by his side,
+showing him the pictures which hung lightly upon the high oak panels,
+and the foreign bric-a-brac and Italian vases ranged along the wide
+black ledge a little below. Her father had been obliged to go out and
+speak to the head gamekeeper about some suspected poaching, and they
+were alone.
+
+"This is where I like to sit after dinner, when we are alone," she said;
+and, lifting some heavy drooping curtains, she led him into a quaint
+recess, almost as large as an ordinary room. A shaded lamp was burning
+on a small Burmese table, and the faint fragrance of burning pine logs
+stole up from the open hearth and floated about on the air, already
+slightly perfumed with the odor of chrysanthemums clustered together in
+quaint blue china bowls, little patches of gold-and-white coloring,
+where everything else was somber and subdued. She sank into a low basket
+chair before the fire, and, obeying her gesture, he seated himself
+opposite to her.
+
+"Now, talk to me, please," she said, half hiding her face with a feather
+screen to protect it from the fire. "No commonplacisms, mind! I have
+heard nothing else all my life, and I am weary of them. And, first,
+please to light a cigarette. You will find some in the silver box by
+your side. I like the perfume."
+
+He did as he was bidden in silence. For a moment he watched the faint
+blue smoke curl upward, stole a glance around him, and drew a long
+breath as though he were drinking in to the full the artistic content of
+the exquisite harmony and coloring, of his surroundings. Then he threw a
+sudden, swift look upon the beautiful girl who was leaning back in her
+low chair, with her fair head resting upon a cushion of deep olive
+green, and her eyes fixed expectantly upon him. She was so near that, by
+stretching out his hand, he could have seized her small shapely fingers;
+so near, that he could even detect the delicate scent of lavender from
+the lace of her black dinner gown. He took in every detail of her dainty
+toilette from the single diamond which sparkled in the black velvet
+around her throat, to the exquisitely slippered feet resting lightly
+upon a tiny sage-green footstool, and just visible through the
+gossamerlike draperies which bordered her skirts. In the world of her
+sex she had become an era to him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE TRAGEDY OF RACHEL KYNASTON.
+
+
+"I wonder whether you know that we have met before, Miss Thurwell?" he
+asked her suddenly.
+
+She moved her screen and looked at him.
+
+"Surely not! Where?"
+
+In a few words he reminded her of that quaint street in the old Italian
+town, and of the half-ruined Palazzo di Vechi. He had seen her only for
+a few minutes, but her face had never been forgotten; the way in which
+he told her so, although he did not dwell upon it, told her also that it
+had been no ordinary memory--that it had held a separate place in his
+thoughts, as was indeed the case. Something in the manner of his
+allusion to it showed her too, as though he had laid his whole mind
+bare, with what interest, almost reverence, he had guarded it, and all
+that it had meant to him; and as she listened a faint color stole into
+her cheeks, with which the fire had nothing to do. She held her screen
+the closer, and bent her head lest he should see it.
+
+But there was no fear of that; indeed, he had no thought of the kind.
+Leaving the dangerous ground behind him, he glided easily and naturally
+into impersonal subjects. From Italy he began to talk of Florence, of
+Pico della Mirandola, and the painters of the Renaissance. He strove his
+utmost to interest her, and with his vast stock of acquired knowledge,
+and his wonderfully artistic felicity of expression, he talked on and
+on, wandering from country to country, and age to age, till it all
+seemed to her like a strangely beautiful poem, full of yellow light and
+gleaming shadow, sometimes passionate and intense, at others fantastic
+and almost ethereal. Now and then she half closed her eyes, and his
+words, and their meaning, the form and the substance, seemed to come to
+her like richly blended music, stirring all her senses and quickening
+all her dormant faculties. Then she opened them again, and looked
+steadily upon the dark, wan face, with its sharp thin outline and
+strange poetic abstraction. By chance he spoke for a moment of De
+Quincey, and a shudder passed through all her being. Could such a face
+as that be a murderer's face? The utter morbidness of such a thought
+oppressed her only for a moment. If to-morrow it was to be her duty to
+loathe this man, then it should be so; but those few minutes were too
+precious to be disturbed by such thoughts. A new life was stirring
+within her, and its first breath was too sweet to be crushed on the
+threshold. After to-night--anything! But to-night she would have for her
+own.
+
+And so the time passed on, and the evening slipped away. Mr. Thurwell
+had looked in, but seeing them so engrossed he had quietly retreated and
+indulged in his usual nap. A dainty tea equipage had been brought in,
+and she had roused herself to prepare it with her own hands, and it
+seemed to him that this little touch of domesticity had been the one
+thing wanted to make the picture perfect. There had been a momentary
+silence then, and she had found herself asking him questions.
+
+"Do you never feel that you would like to be back in the world again?"
+she asked. "Yours is a very lonely life!"
+
+"I do not often find it so," he answered, with his eyes fixed upon the
+fire. "One's books, and the thoughts one gets from them, are sufficient
+companions."
+
+"But they are not human ones, and man is human. Do you think a lonely
+life quite healthy--mentally healthy, I mean?"
+
+"It should be the healthiest of all lives. It is only in theory that
+solitude is morbid. If you knew more of the world, Miss Thurwell, you
+would understand something of its cramping influence upon all
+independent thought. I am not a pessimist--at least, I try not to be. I
+do not wish to say that there is more badness than goodness in the
+world, but there is certainly more littleness than greatness. To live in
+any manner of society without imbibing a certain form of selfishness is
+difficult; to do so and to taste the full sweetness of the life that
+never dies is impossible!"
+
+"But there must be some exceptions!" she said hesitatingly. "If people
+care for one another, and care for the same things----"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"People never do care for one another. Life is so full nowadays, there
+are so many things to care about, that any concentration of the
+affections is impossible. Love is the derision of the modern world. It
+has not even the respect one pays to the antique."
+
+For several minutes there was deep silence. A piece of burning wood
+tumbled off from the log and fell upon the tiles, where it lay with its
+delicate blue smoke curling upward into the room, laden with the pungent
+odor of the pine. She moved her feet, and there was the slight rustling
+of her skirts. No other sound broke the stillness which they both
+remembered for long afterwards--the stillness before the storm.
+
+Suddenly it came to an end. There was a sound of doors being quickly
+opened and shut, voices in the hall, and then a light, firm tread,
+crossing the main portion of the room. They both glanced toward the
+curtains, and there was a second's expectancy. Then they were thrown on
+one side with a hasty movement, and a tall dark woman in a long
+traveling cloak swept through them.
+
+She paused for a moment on the threshold, and her flashing black eyes
+seemed to take in every detail of the little scene. She saw Helen, fair
+and comely, with an added beauty in her soft, animated expression, and
+she saw her companion, his face alight with intelligence and
+sensibility, and with the glow of a new life in his brilliant eyes. The
+perfume of the Egyptian tobacco which hung about the room, the tea tray,
+their two chairs drawn up before the fire--nothing escaped her. It all
+seemed to increase her wrath.
+
+For she was very angry. Her form was dilated with passion, and her
+voice, when she spoke, shook with it. But it was not her anger, nor her
+threatening gestures, before which they both shrank back for a moment,
+appalled. It was her awful likeness to the murdered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston.
+
+"Helen!" she cried, "they told me of this; but if I had not seen it with
+my own eyes, I would never have believed it."
+
+Helen rose to her feet, pale, but with a kindling light in her eyes, and
+a haughty poise of her fair shapely head.
+
+"You speak in riddles, Rachel," she said quietly. "I do not understand
+you."
+
+A very storm of hysterical passion seemed to shake the woman, who had
+approached a little further into the room.
+
+"Not understand me! Listen, and I will make it plain. You were engaged
+to marry my brother. I come here, almost from his funeral, and I find
+you thus--with his murderer! Girl, I wonder that you do not die of
+shame!"
+
+His murderer! For a moment the color fled from cheeks and lips, and the
+room seemed whirling around her. But one glance at him brought back her
+drooping courage. He was standing close to her side, erect and firm as a
+statue, with his head thrown back, and his eyes fixed upon Rachel
+Kynaston. Blanched and colorless as his face was, there was no flinching
+in it.
+
+"It is false!" she said proudly. "Ask him yourself."
+
+"Ask him!" She turned upon him like a tigress, her eyes blazing with
+fury. "Let him hear what I have to say, and deny it. Is it not you who
+followed him from city to city all over the world, seeking always his
+life? Is it not you who kept him for many years from his native land for
+fear of blood-shed--yours or his? Is it not you who have fought with him
+and been worsted, and sworn to carry your enmity with you through life,
+and bury it only in his grave? Look at me, man, if you dare, look me in
+the face and tell me whether you did not seek his life in Vienna, and
+whether you did not fight with him on the sands at Boulogne. Oh, I know
+you! It is you! It is you! And then you come down here and live alone,
+waiting your chance. He is found foully murdered, and you are the only
+man who could have done it. Ask you whether you be guilty? There is no
+need, no need. Can anyone in their senses, knowing the story of your
+past hate, doubt it for one moment? And yet, answer me if you can. Look
+me in the face, and let me hear you lie, if you dare. Tell me that you
+know nothing of my brother's death!"
+
+He had stood like marble, with never a change in his face, while she had
+poured out her passionate accusation. But when silence came, and she
+waited for him to speak, he could not. A seal seemed set upon his lips.
+He could not open them. He was silent.
+
+A fearful glare of triumph blazed up in her eyes. She staggered back a
+little, and leaned upon the table, with her hand clasped to her side.
+
+"See, Helen," she cried, "is that innocence? O God! give me strength to
+go on. I will see Mr. Thurwell. I will tell him everything. He shall
+sign a warrant. Ah!"
+
+A terrible scream rang through the room, and echoed through the house.
+Mr. Thurwell and several of the servants came hurrying in. In the middle
+of the floor Rachel Kynaston lay prostrate, her fingers grasping
+convulsively at the empty air, and an awful look in her face. Helen was
+on her knees by her side, and Mr. Brown stood in the background,
+irresolute whether to stay or leave.
+
+They crowded round her, but she waved them off, and grasping Helen's
+wrist, dragged her down till their heads nearly touched.
+
+"Helen," she moaned, "I am dying. Swear to me that you will avenge
+Geoffrey's murder. That man did it. His name--his name----"
+
+Suddenly her grasp relaxed, and Helen reeled back fainting into her
+father's arms.
+
+"It is a fit," some one murmured.
+
+But it was death.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+LEVY & SON, PRIVATE AGENTS
+
+
+"Anything in the letters, guv'nor?"
+
+"Nothing so far, Ben, my boy," answered a little old gentleman, who was
+methodically opening a pile of envelopes, and carefully scrutinizing the
+contents of each before arranging them in separate heaps. "Nothing much
+yet. A letter from a despairing mother, entreating us to find her lost
+son. Description given, payment--tick! Won't do. Here's a note from Mr.
+Wallis about his wife's being at the theater the other night, and a line
+from Jack Simpson about that woman down St. John's Wood way. Seems he's
+found her, so that's off."
+
+"Humph! business is slack," remarked a younger edition of the old
+gentleman, who was standing on the hearth rug, with his silk hat on the
+back of his head, in an attitude of unstudied grace.
+
+"Say, guv'nor, you couldn't let me have a fiver, could you? Must keep up
+the credit of the firm, don't you know, and I'm awfully hard up. 'Pon my
+word, I am."
+
+"I couldn't do anything of the sort!" exclaimed the old gentleman
+testily. "Certainly not. The way you spend money is grievous to me,
+Benjamin, positively grievous!"
+
+He turned round in his chair, and with his spectacles on the top of his
+head surveyed his son and heir with a sorrowful interest.
+
+"Oh, hang it all, some one must spend the money if we're to keep the
+business at all!" retorted Mr. Benjamin testily. "I can't live as I do
+without it, you know; and how are we to get the information we want?
+Look at the company I keep, too."
+
+The old gentleman seemed mollified.
+
+"There's something in that, Ben," he remarked, slowly wagging his head.
+"There's something in that, of course. Bless me, your mother was telling
+me you was with a lord the other day!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin expanded a little with the recollection, and smiled gently.
+
+"That was quite true, dad," he remarked with a grandiloquent air. "I was
+just going into the Cri--let me see, on Tuesday night it was--when whom
+should I run up against but little Tommy Soampton with a pal, and we all
+had drinks together. He was a quiet-looking chap, not dressed half so
+well as--er----"
+
+"As you, Ben," interposed his father proudly.
+
+"Well, I wasn't thinking of myself particularly," Mr. Benjamin
+continued, twirling an incipient mustache, and looking pleased. "But
+when Tommy introduced him as Lord Mossford, I was that surprised I
+nearly dropped my glass."
+
+"What did you say to him, Ben?" asked the little old gentleman in an
+awed tone.
+
+Ben drew himself up and smiled.
+
+"I asked him how his lordship was, and whether his lordship'd take
+anything."
+
+"And did he, Ben?" asked his father eagerly.
+
+"Rather! He was just as affable as you like. I got on with him no end."
+
+The little old gentleman turned away to his letters again to hide a
+gratified smile.
+
+"Well, well, Ben, I suppose you must have it," he said leniently. "Young
+men will be young men. Only remember this, my boy--wherever you are,
+always keep an eye open for business. Never forget that."
+
+Benjamin, junior, slapped his trousers pocket and grinned.
+
+"No fear, dad. I don't forget the biz."
+
+"Well, well; just wait till I've gone through the letters, and we'll see
+what we can do. We'll see. Ha! this reads well. I like this. Ben, we're
+in luck this morning. In luck, my boy!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin abandoned his negligent attitude, and, drawing close to his
+father, peered over his shoulder. The letter which lay upon the desk was
+not a long one, but it was to the point.
+
+     "THURWELL COURT,
+     "_Thursday_.
+
+     "DEAR SIRS,
+
+     "I am recommended to consult your firm on a matter which requires
+     the services of a skilled detective and the utmost secrecy. I am
+     coming to London to-morrow, and will call at your office at about
+     half-past ten. Please arrange to be in at that time.
+
+    "Yours truly,
+    "HELEN THURWELL.
+
+    "To Messrs. Levy & Son,
+    "Private Agents,
+    ---- Street, Strand, London."
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, drew his hand meditatively down the lower part of his
+face once or twice, and looked up at his son.
+
+"Something in it, I think, Benjamin, eh? Thurwell Court! Coat of Arms!
+Lady signs herself Miss Thurwell! Money there, eh?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin was looking thoughtfully down at the signature.
+
+"Thurwell, Thurwell! Where the mischief have I heard that name lately.
+Holy Moses! I know," he suddenly exclaimed, starting up with glistening
+eyes. "Dad, our fortune's made. Our chance has come at last!"
+
+In the exuberance of his spirits he forgot the infirmities of age, and
+brought his hand down upon his father's back with such vehemence that
+the tears started into the little old gentleman's eyes, and his
+spectacles rattled upon his nose.
+
+"Don't do that again, Benjamin," he exclaimed nervously. "I don't like
+it; I don't like it at all. You nearly dislocated my shoulder, and if
+you had, I'd have stopped the doctor's bill out of your allowance. I
+would, indeed! And now, what have you got to say?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin had been walking up and down the office with his hands in
+his trousers' pockets whistling softly to himself. At the conclusion of
+his father's complaint he came to a standstill.
+
+"All right, guv'nor. Sorry I hurt you. I was a bit excited. Don't you
+remember having heard that name Thurwell lately?"
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, shook his head doubtfully.
+
+"I'm afraid my memory isn't what it used to be, Benjamin. The name
+sounds a bit familiar, and yet--no, I can't remember," he wound up
+suddenly. "Tell me about it, my boy."
+
+"Why, the Kynaston murder, of course. That was at Thurwell Court. Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston was engaged to Miss Thurwell, you know, and she was
+one of the first to find him."
+
+"Dear me! Dear me! I remember all about it now, to be sure," Mr. Levy
+exclaimed. "The murderer was never found, was he? Got clean off?"
+
+"That's so," assented Mr. Benjamin. "Dad, it's a rum thing, but I was
+interested in that case. There was something queer about it. I read it
+every bit. I could stand a cross-examination in it now. Dad, it's a
+lucky thing. She's coming here to consult us about it, as sure as my
+name is Ben Levy. And, by jabers, here she is!"
+
+There was the sound of a cab stopping at the door, and through a chink
+in the blinds Mr. Benjamin had seen a lady descend from it. In a moment
+his hat was off and on the peg, and he commenced writing a letter at the
+desk.
+
+"Dad," he said quickly, without looking up, "leave this matter to me,
+will you? I'm up in the case. A lady, did you say, Morrison?"--turning
+toward the door. "Very good. Show her in at once."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+A JEWEL OF A SON
+
+
+For the first time in her life Helen was taking a definite and important
+step without her father's knowledge. The matter was one which had caused
+her infinite thought and many heart searchings. The burden of Rachel
+Kynaston's dying words had fallen upon her alone. There seemed to be no
+escape from it. She must act, and must act for herself. Any sort of
+appeal to her father for help was out of the question. She knew
+beforehand exactly what his view of the matter would be. In all things
+concerning her sex he was of that ancient school which reckoned
+helplessness and inaction the chief and necessary qualities of women
+outside the domestic circle. He might himself have made some move in the
+matter, but it would have been half hearted and under protest. She knew
+exactly what his point of view would be. Rachel Kynaston had been
+excited by a fancied wrong--her last words were uttered in a veritable
+delirium! She could not part with the responsibility. The shadow of it
+lay upon her, and her alone. She must act herself or not at all. She
+must act herself, and without her father's knowledge, or be false to the
+charge laid upon her by a dying woman. So with a heavy heart she had
+accepted what seemed to her to be the inevitable.
+
+She was shown at once into the inner sanctuary of Messrs. Levy & Son.
+Her first glance around, nervous though she was, was comprehensive. She
+saw a plainly but not ill-furnished office, the chief feature of which
+was its gloom. Seated in an easy chair was a little old gentleman with
+white hair, who rose to receive her, and a little farther away was a
+younger man who was writing busily, and who did not even glance up at
+her entrance. Although it was not a particularly dark morning, the
+narrowness of the street and the small dusty windows seemed effectually
+to keep out the light, and a jet of gas was burning.
+
+Mr. Levy bowed to his visitor, and offered her a chair.
+
+"Miss Thurwell, I presume," he said in his best manner.
+
+The lady bowed without lifting her veil, which, though short, was a
+thick one.
+
+"We received a letter from you this morning," he continued.
+
+"Yes; I have called about it."
+
+She hesitated. The commencement was very difficult. After all, had she
+done wisely in coming here? Was it not all a mistake? Had she not better
+leave the thing to the proper authorities, and content herself with
+offering a reward? She had half a mind to declare that her visit was an
+error, and make her escape.
+
+It was at this point that the tact of the junior member of the firm
+asserted itself. Quietly laying down his pen, he turned toward her, and
+spoke for the first time.
+
+"We gathered from your letter, Miss Thurwell, that you desired to
+consult us concerning the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."
+
+Helen was surprised into assenting, and before she could qualify her
+words, Mr. Benjamin had taken the case in hand.
+
+"Exactly. Now, Miss Thurwell, we have had some very delicate and very
+difficult business confided to us at different times, and I may say,
+without boasting, that we have been remarkably successful. I may so,
+father, may I not?"
+
+"Most decidedly, Benjamin. There was Mr. Morris's jewels, you know."
+
+"And Mr. Hadson's son."
+
+"And that little affair with Captain Trescott and Bella B----"
+
+Mr. Benjamin dropped the ruler, which he had been idly balancing on his
+forefinger, with a crash, and shot a warning glance across at his
+father.
+
+"Miss Thurwell will not be interested in the details of our business,"
+he remarked. "Our reputation is doubtless known to her."
+
+Considering what the reputation of Messrs. Levy & Son really was, this
+last remark was a magnificent piece of cool impudence. Even Mr. Levy
+could not refrain from casting a quick glance of admiration at his
+junior, who remained perfectly unmoved.
+
+"What I was about to remark, Miss Thurwell, was simply this. The chief
+cause of our success has been that we have induced our clients at the
+outset to give us their whole confidence. We lay great stress on this.
+Everything that we are told in the way of business we consider
+absolutely secret. But we like to know everything."
+
+"I shall keep nothing back from you," she said quietly. "I have nothing
+to conceal."
+
+Mr. Benjamin nodded approval.
+
+"Then, in order that the confidence between us may be complete, let me
+ask you this question, Why have you brought this matter to us, instead
+of leaving it to the ordinary authorities?"
+
+Helen Thurwell lifted her veil for the first time, and looked at the
+young man who was questioning her. Mr. Benjamin Levy, as a young man of
+fashion, was an ape and a fool. Mr. Benjamin Levy, taking the lead in a
+piece of business after his own heart, was as shrewd a young man as you
+could meet with. Looking him steadily in the face, and noticing his keen
+dark eyes and closely drawn lips, she began for the first time to think
+that, after all, she might have done a wise thing in coming here.
+
+"The ordinary authorities have had the matter in hand two months, and
+they have done nothing," she answered. "I am very anxious that it should
+be cleared up, and I am naturally beginning to lose faith in them. They
+have so many other things to attend to. Now, if I paid you well, I
+suppose you would give your whole time to the matter."
+
+"Undoubtedly," assented Mr. Levy, senior, gravely.
+
+"Undoubtedly," echoed his son. "I am quite satisfied, Miss Thurwell, and
+I thank you for your candor."
+
+"I suppose you will want me to tell you all about it," she said, with a
+faint shudder.
+
+"Not unless you know something fresh. I have every particular in my head
+that has been published."
+
+Helen looked surprised.
+
+"You read all about it, I suppose?" she asked.
+
+"Yes; such things interest us, naturally. This one did me particularly,
+because, from the first, I saw that the police were on the wrong tack."
+
+"What is your idea about it, then?" she asked.
+
+"Simply this," he answered, turning round and facing her for the first
+time. "All the time and trouble spent in scouring the country and
+watching the ports and railway stations was completely wasted. The
+murder was not committed by an outsider at all. The first thing I shall
+want, when we begin to work this, is the name and address of all the
+people living within a mile or two of the scene of the murder, and then
+every possible particular concerning Mr. Bernard Brown, of Falcon's
+Nest."
+
+She could not help a slight start. And from his looking at her now for
+the first time so fixedly, and from the abrupt manner in which he had
+brought out the latter part of his sentence, she knew that he was trying
+her.
+
+"There is one more question, too, Miss Thurwell, which I must ask you,
+and it is a very important one," he continued, still looking at her. "Do
+you suspect any one?"
+
+She answered him without hesitation.
+
+"I do."
+
+Mr. Levy, senior, stirred in his chair, and leaned forward eagerly. Mr.
+Benjamin remained perfectly unmoved.
+
+"And who is it?" he asked.
+
+"Mr. Brown."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked away and made a note. If she could have seen it,
+Helen would certainly have been surprised. For, though her voice was
+low, she had schooled herself to go through her task without agitation.
+Yet, here was the note.
+
+"Query: Connection between Mr. Brown and Miss T. Showed great agitation
+in announcing suspicion."
+
+"Do you mind telling us your reasons?" he went on.
+
+She repeated them after the manner of one who has learned a lesson.
+
+"Mr. Brown came to our part of the country just at the time that Sir
+Geoffrey came from abroad. They had met before, and there was some cause
+of enmity between them----"
+
+"Stop! How do you know that?" Mr. Benjamin interrupted quickly.
+
+She told him of Mr. Brown's admission to her, and of the tragedy of
+Rachel Kynaston's last words. He seemed to know something of this too.
+
+"Any other reason?"
+
+"He seemed agitated when he came out from the cottage, after the crime
+was discovered. From its situation he could easily have committed the
+murder and regained it unseen. It would have been infinitely easier for
+him to have done it than anyone else."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at his father, and his father looked at him.
+
+"Can you tell me anything at all of his antecedents?" he continued.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"We knew nothing about him when he came. He never talked about himself."
+
+"But he was your father's tenant, was he not?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then he gave you some references, I suppose?"
+
+"Only his bankers and his lawyers."
+
+"Do you remember those?"
+
+"Yes. The bankers were Gregsons, and the lawyer's name was Cuthbert."
+
+Mr. Benjamin made a note of both.
+
+"There is nothing more which it occurs to you to tell us, Miss
+Thurwell?" he asked.
+
+"There is one circumstance which seemed to me at the time suspicious,"
+she said slowly. "It was after the body had been carried to Mr. Brown's
+house, and I was waiting for my father there. I think I must have
+suspected Mr. Brown then, in a lesser degree, for I took the opportunity
+of being alone to look into his sitting room. It was rather a mean thing
+to do," she added hurriedly, "but I was a little excited at the notion
+of his guilt, and I felt that I would do anything to help to bring the
+truth to light."
+
+"It was very natural," interposed Mr. Levy, senior, who had been
+watching for some time for the opportunity of getting a word in. "Very
+natural, indeed."
+
+His son took no notice of the interruption, and Helen continued.
+
+"What I saw may be of no consequence, but I will just tell you what it
+was, and what it suggested to me. The window was open, and the leaves of
+a laurel shrub just outside were dripping with wet. A little way in the
+room was an empty basin, and on the floor by the side was a pile of
+books. They might have been there by accident, but it seemed to me as if
+they had been purposely placed there to hide something--possibly a stain
+on the floor. Before I could move any of them to see, I was disturbed."
+
+"By Mr. Brown?"
+
+"By Mr. Brown and Sir Allan Beaumerville."
+
+"Did you gather from his appearance that he was alarmed at finding you
+there?"
+
+Helen shook her head.
+
+"No. He was surprised, certainly, but that was natural. I cannot say
+that he looked alarmed."
+
+Mr. Benjamin put away his notes and turned round on his stool.
+
+"A word or two with regard to the business part of this matter, Miss
+Thurwell. Are you prepared to spend a good deal of money?"
+
+"If it is necessary, yes."
+
+"Very good. Then I will give you a sketch of my plans. We have agents in
+Paris, Vienna, Venice, and other towns, whom I shall at once employ in
+tracing out Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's life abroad, concerning which I
+already have some useful information. During the rest of the day I shall
+make inquiries about Mr. Brown in London. To-morrow I shall be prepared
+to come down to Thurwell in any capacity you suggest."
+
+"If you know anything of auditing," she said, "you can come down and go
+through the books of the estate at the Court. I can arrange that."
+
+"It will do admirably. These are my plans, then. We shall require from
+you, Miss Thurwell, two hundred guineas to send abroad, and forty
+guineas a week for the services of my father and myself and our staff.
+If in twelve months we have not succeeded, we will engage to return you
+twenty-five per cent of this amount. If, on the other hand, we have
+brought home the crime to the murderer, we shall ask you for a further
+five hundred. Will you agree to these terms?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Benjamin stretched out his hand for a piece of writing paper, and
+made a memorandum.
+
+"Perhaps you would be so good as to sign this, then?" he said, passing
+it to her.
+
+She took the pen, and wrote her name at the bottom. Then she rose to go.
+
+"There is nothing more?" she said.
+
+"Nothing except your London address," he reminded her.
+
+"I am staying with my aunt, Lady Thurwell, at No. 8, Cadogan Square."
+
+"Can I call and see you to-morrow morning there?"
+
+She hesitated. After all, why not. She had put her hand to the plow, and
+she must go on with it.
+
+"Yes," she answered; "as the auditor who is going to Thurwell Court."
+
+He bowed, and held the door open for her.
+
+"That is understood, of course. Good morning, Miss Thurwell."
+
+She was standing quite still on the threshold, as if lost in thought for
+a moment. Suddenly she looked up at him with a bright spot of color
+glowing in her cheeks.
+
+"Let me ask you a question, Mr. Levy."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"You have read the account of this--terrible thing, and you have heard
+all I can tell you. Doubtless you have formed some idea concerning it.
+Would you mind telling it to me?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin kept his keen black eyes fixed steadily upon her while he
+answered the question, as though he were curious to see what effect it
+would have on her.
+
+"Certainly, Miss Thurwell. I think that the gentleman calling himself
+Mr. Brown will find himself in the murderer's dock before a month is
+out."
+
+She shuddered slightly, and turned away.
+
+"Thank you. Good morning."
+
+"Good morning, Miss Thurwell."
+
+She was gone, and as the sound of her departing cab became lost in the
+din of the traffic outside, a remarkable change took place in the
+demeanor of Mr. Benjamin Levy. His constrained, almost polished manner
+disappeared. His small, deep-set eyes sparkled with exultation, and all
+his natural vulgarity reasserted itself.
+
+"What do you think of that, guv'nor, eh?" he cried, patting him gently
+on the shoulder. "Good biz, eh?"
+
+"Benjamin, my son," returned the old man, with emotion, "our fortune is
+made. You are a jewel of a son."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A STRANGE MEETING
+
+
+Grayness reigned everywhere--in the sky, on the hillside, and on the
+bare moor, no longer made resplendent by the gleaming beauty of the
+purple heather and fainter flashes of yellow gorse. The dry, springy
+turf had become a swamp, and phantom-like wreaths of mist blurred and
+saddened the landscape. The sweet stirring of the summer wind amongst
+the pine trees had given place to the melancholy drip of raindrops
+falling from their heavy, drooping branches on to the soddened ground.
+Every vestige of coloring had died out of the landscape--from the sea,
+the clouds, and the heath. It was the earth's mourning season, when the
+air has neither the keen freshness of winter, the buoyancy of spring,
+the sweet drowsy languor of summer, or the bracing exhilaration of
+autumn. It was November.
+
+Daylight was fast fading away; but the reign of twilight had not yet
+commenced. After a blustering morning, a sudden stillness had fallen
+upon the earth. The wild north wind had ceased its moaning in the pine
+trees, and no longer came booming across the level moorland. The dull
+gray clouds which all day long had been driven across the leaden sky in
+flying haste, hung low down upon the sad earth, and from over the water
+a sea fog rose to meet them. Nature had nothing more cheerful to offer
+than silence, a dim light, and indescribable desolation.
+
+A solitary man, with his figure carved out in sharp relief against the
+vaporous sky, stood on the highest point of the cliff. Everything in his
+attitude betokened the deepest dejection--in which at least he was in
+sympathy with his surroundings. His head drooped upon his bent
+shoulders, and his dark, weary eyes were fixed upon the rising sea fog
+in a vacant gaze. Warmly clad as he was, he seemed chilled through his
+whole being by the raw lifelessness of the air. Yet he did not move.
+
+The utter silence was suddenly broken by the rising of a little flock of
+gulls from among the stunted firs hanging down over the cliff. Almost
+immediately afterwards there came another sound, denoting the advance of
+a human being. The little hand gate leading out of the plantation was
+opened and shut, and light footsteps began to ascend the ridge of the
+cliffs on which he was standing, hesitating now and then, but always
+advancing. As soon as he became sure of this, he turned his head in the
+direction from which they came, and found himself face to face with
+Helen Thurwell.
+
+It was the first time they had come together since the terrible night at
+Thurwell Court, when their eyes had met for an awful moment over the
+dead body of Rachel Kynaston. The memory of that scene flashed into the
+minds of both of them; from hers, indeed, it had seldom been absent. She
+stood face to face with the man whom she had been charged, by the
+passionate prayers of a dying woman, to hunt down and denounce as a
+murderer. They looked at one another with the same thoughts in the minds
+of both. The first step she had already taken. Henceforth he would be
+watched and dogged, his past life raked up, and his every action
+recorded. And she it was who had set the underhand machinery at work,
+she it was whom he, guilty or innocent, would think of as the woman who
+had hunted him down. If he should be innocent, and the time should come
+when he discovered all, what would he think of her? If he could have
+seen her a few days back in the office of Messrs. Levy & Son, would he
+look at her as he was doing now? The thought sent a shiver through her.
+At that moment she hated herself.
+
+It was no ordinary meeting this, for him or for her. Had she been able
+to look him steadily in the face, she might have seen something of her
+own nervousness reflected there. But that was just what at first she was
+unable to do. One rapid glance into his pale features, which suffering
+and intellectual labor seemed in some measure to have etherealized, was
+sufficient. She had all the poignant sense of a culprit before an
+injured but merciful judge, and at that moment the memory of those dying
+words was faint within her. And so, though it is not usually the case,
+it was he who appeared the least disturbed, and he it was who broke that
+strange silence which had lasted several moments after she had come to a
+standstill before him.
+
+"You do not mind speaking to me, Miss Thurwell?"
+
+"No; I do not mind," she answered in a low, hesitating tone.
+
+"Then may I take it that Miss Kynaston's words have not--damaged me in
+your esteem?" he went on, his voice quivering a little with suppressed
+anxiety. "You do not--believe--that----"
+
+"I neither believe nor disbelieve!" she interrupted. "Remember that you
+had an opportunity of denying it which you did not accept!"
+
+"That is true!" he answered slowly. "Let it remain like that, then. It
+is best."
+
+She had turned a little away as though to watch a screaming curlew fly
+low down and vanish in the fog. From where he stood on slightly higher
+ground he looked down at her curiously, for in more than one sense she
+was a puzzle to him. There was a certain indefiniteness in her manner
+toward him which he felt a passionate desire to construe. She seemed at
+once merciful and merciless, sympathetic and hard. Then, as he looked at
+her, he almost forgot all this wilderness of suffering and doubt. All
+his intense love for physical beauty, ministered to by the whole manner
+of his life, seemed rekindled in her presence. The tragedy of the
+present seemed to pass away into the background. From the moment when he
+had first caught a glimpse of her in the courtyard of the Palazzo Vechi,
+he had chosen her face and presence with which to endow his artist's
+ideal--and, since that time, what change there had been in her had been
+for the better. The animal spirits of light-hearted girlhood had become
+toned down into the more refined and delicate softness of thoughtful
+womanhood. In her thin supple figure there was still just the suspicion
+of incomplete development, which is in itself a fascination; and her
+country attire, the well-cut brown tweed ulster, the cloth cap from
+beneath which many little waves of fair silky hair had escaped, the trim
+gloves and short skirts--the most insignificant article of her
+attire--all seemed to bespeak that peculiar and subtle daintiness which
+is at the same time the sweetest and the hardest to define of nature's
+gifts to women.
+
+Even in the most acute crisis, woman's care for the physical welfare of
+man seems almost an instinct with her. Suddenly turning round, she saw
+how ill-protected he was against the weather, and a look of concern
+stole into her face.
+
+"How ridiculous of you to come out without an overcoat or anything on
+such a day as this!" she exclaimed. "Why, you must be wet through!--and
+how cold you look!"
+
+He smiled grimly. That she should think of such a thing just at that
+moment, seemed to him to be a peculiar satire upon what had been passing
+through his mind concerning her. Then a sudden thrill shook every limb
+in his body--his very pulses quickened. She had laid her gloved hand
+upon his arm, and, having withdrawn it, was regarding it ruefully. It
+was stained with wet.
+
+"You must go home at once!" she said, with a decision in her tone which
+was almost suggestive of authority. "You must change all your things,
+and get before a warm fire. Come, I will walk with you as far as
+Falcon's Nest. I am going round that way, and home by the footpath."
+
+They started off side by side. The first emotion of their meeting having
+passed away, he found it easier to talk to her, and he did so in an odd
+monosyllabic way which she yet found interesting. All her life she had
+been somewhat peculiarly situated with regard to companionship. Her
+father, having once taken her abroad and once to London for the season,
+considered that he had done his duty to her, and having himself long ago
+settled down to the life of a country squire, had expected her to be
+content with her position as his daughter and the mistress of his
+establishment. There was nothing particularly revolting to her in the
+prospect. She was not by any means emancipated. The "new woman" would
+have been a horror to her. But, unfortunately, although she was content
+to accept a comparatively narrow view of life, she was slightly
+epicurean in her tastes. She would have been quite willing to give up
+her life to a round of such pleasures as society and wealth can procure,
+but the society must be good and entertaining, and its pleasures must be
+refined and free from monotony. In some parts of England she might have
+found what would have satisfied her, and under the influence of a
+pleasure-seeking life, she would in due course have become the woman of
+a type. As she grew older the horizon of her life would have become more
+limited and her ideas narrower. She would have lived without tasting
+either the full sweetness or the full bitterness of life. She would have
+filled her place in society admirably, and there would have been nothing
+to distinguish her either for better or worse from other women in a
+similar position. But it happened that round Thurwell Court the people
+were singularly uninteresting. The girls were dull, and the men bucolic.
+Before she had spent two years in the country, Helen was intensely
+bored. A sort of chronic languor seemed to creep over her, and in a fit
+of desperation she had permitted herself to become engaged to Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston, for the simple reason that he was different from the
+other men. Then, just as she was beginning to tremble at the idea of
+marriage with a man for whom she had never felt a single spark of love,
+there had come this tragedy, and, following close upon it, the vague
+consciousness of an utter change hovering over her life. What that
+change meant she was slow to discover. She was still unconscious of it
+as she walked over the cliffs with the grey mists hanging around them,
+side by side with her father's tenant. She knew that life had somehow
+become a fairer thing to her, and that for many years she had been
+living in darkness. And it was her companion, this mysterious stranger
+with his wan young face and sad thoughtful eyes, who had brought the
+light. She could see it flashing across the whole landscape of her
+future, revealing the promise of a larger life than any she had ever
+dreamed of, full of brilliant possibilities and more perfect happiness
+than any she had ever imagined. She told herself that he was the
+Columbus who had shown her the new land of culture, with all its fair
+places, intellectual and artistic. This was the whole meaning of the
+change in her. There could be nothing else.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+HELEN THURWELL ASKS A DIRECT QUESTION
+
+
+At the summit of the little spur of cliff they paused. Close on one side
+were the windows of Falcon's Nest, and on the other the batch of black
+firs which formed the background to it ran down the steep cliff side to
+the sea. The path which they were following curved round the cottage,
+and crossed the moor within a few yards of the spot where Sir Geoffrey
+had been found. As they stood together for a moment before parting, she
+noticed, with a sudden cold dismay, that thick shutters had recently
+been fitted to the windows of the little room into which she had stolen
+on the day of Sir Geoffrey's murder.
+
+"Are you afraid of being robbed?" she asked. "One would imagine that
+your room there held a secret."
+
+She was watching him, and she told herself the shot had gone to its
+mark.
+
+He followed her finger with his eyes, and kept his face turned away from
+her.
+
+"Yes, that is so," he answered quietly. "That little room holds its
+secret and its ghost for me. Would to God," he cried, with a sudden
+passion trembling in his tones, "that I had never seen it--that I had
+never come here!"
+
+Her heart beat fast. Could it be that he was going to confess to her?
+Then he turned suddenly round, and in the twilight his white face and
+dark luminous eyes seemed to her like mute emblems of an anguish which
+moved her woman's heart to pity. There was none of the cowardice of
+guilt there, nothing of the criminal in the deep melancholy which seemed
+to have set its mark upon his whole being. And yet he must be very
+guilty--very much a criminal.
+
+Her eyes strayed from his face back to the window again. There was no
+light anywhere in the house. It had a cold desolate look which chilled
+her.
+
+"Is that the room where you sit?" she asked, pointing to it.
+
+"Yes. There is no other furnished, except my housekeeper's, and she is
+away now."
+
+"Away! Then who is with you in the house?"
+
+"At present, no one," he answered. "She was taken ill, and went home
+this morning. She is generally ill."
+
+She looked at him perplexed.
+
+"But who does your cooking for you, and light the fires, and that sort
+of thing?"
+
+"I haven't thought about it yet," he answered. "I did try to light the
+fire this afternoon, but I couldn't quite manage it. I--I think the
+sticks must have been damp," he added hesitatingly.
+
+She looked at him, wet through and almost blue with cold, and at the
+dull cheerless-looking cottage. Again the woman in her triumphed, and
+her eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I never heard anything so preposterous," she exclaimed almost angrily.
+"You must be out of your senses, Mr. Brown. Now, be so good as to obey
+me at once. Go into the house and get a thick overcoat, the thickest you
+have, and then come home with me, and I will give you some tea."
+
+He hesitated, and stood quite still for a moment, with his face turned
+steadily away from her. All the subtle sweetness of that last visit of
+his to her home had come back to him, and his heart was sick with a
+great longing. Was he not a fool to refuse to enter into paradise, when
+the gates stood open for him? No words could describe the craving which
+he felt to escape, just for a brief while, from the lashings of his
+thoughts and the icy misery of his great loneliness. What though he were
+courting another sorrow! Could his state be worse than it was? Could any
+agony be keener than that which he had already tasted? Were there lower
+depths still in the hell of remorse? If so, he would sound them. Though
+he died for it, he would not deny himself this one taste of heaven. He
+turned suddenly round, with a glow in his eyes which had a strange
+effect upon her.
+
+"You are very good to me, Miss Thurwell," he said. "I will come."
+
+"That is sensible of you," she answered. "Get your coat, and you can
+catch me up. I think we had better go back the same way, as it is
+getting late."
+
+She walked slowly down the path, and he hurried into the cottage. In a
+few minutes he overtook her, wrapped in a long Inverness cape from head
+to foot, and they walked on side by side.
+
+The grey afternoon had suddenly faded into twilight. Overhead several
+stars were already visible, dimly shining through a gauze-like veil of
+mist stretched all over the sky, and from behind a black line of firs on
+the top of a distant hill the moon had slowly risen, and was casting a
+soft weird light upon the saddened landscape. Grey wreaths of
+phantom-like mist were floating away across the moor, and a faint breeze
+had sprung up, and was moaning in the pine plantation when they reached
+the hand-gate. They paused for a moment to listen, and the dull roar of
+the sea from below mingled with it in their ears. She turned away with a
+shudder.
+
+"Come!" she said; "that sound makes me melancholy."
+
+"I like it," he answered. "Nature is an exquisite musician. I never yet
+heard the sea speak in a tone which I did not love to hear. Listen to
+that slow mournful rise of sound, reaching almost to intensity, and then
+dying away so sadly--with the sadness that thrills. Ah! did you hear
+that? The shrieking of those pebbles dragged down to the sea, and crying
+out in almost human agony. I love the sea."
+
+"Is that why you came to this desolate part of the world?" she asked.
+
+"Partly."
+
+"Tell me the whole reason," she said abruptly. "Was there anything
+special which made you fix on this neighborhood? You may think me
+curious, if you like--but I want to know."
+
+"I had a vow to keep," he answered hoarsely. "You must ask me no more. I
+cannot tell you."
+
+Her heart sank like lead. A vow to keep. There was something ominous in
+the sound of those words. She stole a glance at him as they walked on in
+silence, and again her judgments seemed put to confusion and her hopes
+revived. His face, dimly seen in the shadows of the plantation, was
+suddenly illuminated by a pale quivering moonbeam, as they passed
+through a slight opening. Could these be the features of a murderer? Her
+whole heart rebelled against her understanding, and cried out "No!" For
+the first time she realized the aesthetic beauty of his face, scarred and
+wasted though it was by the deep lines of intellectual toil and
+consuming sorrow. There was not a line out of place, save where his
+cheek-bones projected slightly, owing to his extreme thinness, and left
+deep hollows under his eyes. Nor was his expression the expression of a
+guilty man, for, notwithstanding the intense melancholy which dwelt
+always in his dark eyes, and seemed written into every feature, there
+was blended with it a strange pride, the slight yet wholesome contempt
+of a man conscious of a certain superiority in himself, neither physical
+nor in any way connected with material circumstances, over the majority
+of his fellows. And as the realization of this swept in upon her, and
+her faith in him suddenly leaped up with a new-born strength, there came
+with it a passionate desire to hear him proclaim his innocence with his
+own lips, and, having heard it, to banish for ever doubts and
+suspicions, and give herself up to this new sweetness which was hovering
+around her life. She caught hold of his hand, but dropped it almost at
+once, for the fire which flashed into his face at the touch of her
+fingers half frightened her. He had come to a sudden standstill, and
+before his eyes she felt hers droop and the hot color burn her cheeks.
+What had come to her? She could not tell. She was nervous, almost faint,
+with the dawning promise of a bewildering happiness. Yet her desire
+still clung to her, and she found words to express it.
+
+"I cannot bear this any longer," she cried. "I must ask you a question,
+and you must answer it. The thought of it all is driving me mad."
+
+"For God's sake, ask me nothing!" he said in a deep hollow tone. "Let me
+go back. I should not be here with you."
+
+"You shall not go," she answered. "Stand there where the light falls
+upon your face, and answer me. Was it you who killed Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston? Tell me, for I will know."
+
+There was a dead silence, which seemed to her fevered nerves
+intolerable. From all around them came the quiet drip, drip, of the
+rain, from the bending boughs on to the damp soaked ground, and at that
+moment a slight breeze from over the moorland stirred amongst the
+branches, and the moisture which hung upon them descended in little
+showers. From below, the dull roar of the sea came up to them in a
+muffled undertone, like a melancholy background to the slighter sound.
+There was an indescribable dreariness about it all which quickened the
+acute agony of those few moments.
+
+More awful than anything to her was the struggle which she saw in that
+white strained face half hidden in his clasped hands. What could
+hesitation mean but guilt? What need was there for it? Her feet seemed
+turned to stone upon the cold ground, and her heart almost stopped
+beating. There was a film before her eyes, and yet she saw his face
+still, though dimly, and as if it were far off. She saw his hands
+withdrawn, and she saw his ashen lips part slowly.
+
+"I did not kill Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," he said in a low constrained
+voice. "If my life could have saved his, I would have given it."
+
+A warm golden light seemed suddenly to banish the misty gloom of the
+damp plantation. The color rushed into her cheeks, and her heart leaped
+for joy. She heard, and she believed.
+
+"Thank God!" she cried, holding out both her hands to him with a sudden
+impulsive gesture. "Come! let us go now."
+
+She was smiling softly up at him, and her eyes were wet with tears. He
+took one quick passionate step towards her, seizing her hands, and
+drawing her unresistingly towards him. In a moment she would have been
+in his arms--already a great trembling had seized her, and her will had
+fled. But that moment was not yet.
+
+Something seemed to have turned him to stone. He dropped her fingers as
+though they were burning him. A vacant light eclipsed the passion which
+had shone a moment before in his eyes. Suddenly he raised his hands to
+the sky in a despairing gesture.
+
+"God forgive me!" he cried. "God forgive me!"
+
+For very shame at his touch, and her ready yielding to it, her eyes had
+fallen to the ground. When she raised them he was gone. There was the
+sound of his retreating footsteps, the quick opening and closing of the
+hand-gate, and through the trees she saw him walking swiftly over the
+cliffs. Then she turned away, with her face half hidden in her hands,
+and the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
+
+Again there was silence, only broken by the louder roar of the incoming
+tide, and the faint rustling of the leaves. Suddenly it was broken by a
+human voice, and a human figure slowly arose from a cramped posture
+behind a clump of shrubs.
+
+"Holy Moses! if this ain't a queer start," remarked Mr. Benjamin Levy,
+shaking the wet from his clothes, and slowly filling a pipe. "Wants him
+copped for murder, and yet tries to get him to make up to her. She's a
+deep un, she is. I wonder if she was in earnest! If only she was, I
+think I see my way to a real good thing--a real good thing," he
+repeated, meditatively.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+A LITERARY CELEBRITY
+
+
+It was Tuesday afternoon, and the Countess of Meltoun was at home to the
+world--that is to say, her world. The usual throng of men of fashion,
+guardsmen, literary men, and budding politicians were bending over the
+chairs of their feminine acquaintances, or standing about in little
+groups talking amongst themselves. The clatter of teacups was mingled
+with the soft hum of voices; the pleasantly shaded room was heavy with
+the perfume of many flowers. People said that Lady Meltoun was the only
+woman in London who knew how to keep her rooms cool. It was hard to
+believe that outside the streets and pavements were hot with the
+afternoon sun.
+
+Helen Thurwell, who had come late with her aunt, was sitting on a low
+couch near one of the windows. By her side was Sir Allan Beaumerville,
+and directly in front of her the Earl of Meltoun, with a teacup in his
+hand, was telling her stories of his college days with her father. There
+had been a great change in her during the last six months. Looking
+closely into her face, it seemed as though she had felt the touch of a
+deep sorrow--a sorrow which had left all its refining influences upon
+her without any of the ravages of acute grief. Those few minutes in the
+pine grove by the sea had left their indelible mark upon her life, and
+it was only the stimulating memory of his own words to her concerning
+the weakness of idle yielding to regret, and the abstract beauty of
+sorrow which had been her salvation. They had come back to her in the
+time of her suffering fresh and glowing with truth; she had found a
+peculiar comfort in them, and they had become her religion. Thus she had
+set herself to conquer grief in the highest possible manner--not by
+steeping herself in false excitement, or rushing away for a change of
+scene, but by a deliberate series of intellectual and artistic
+abstractions, out of which she had come, still in a manner sorrowful,
+but with all her higher perceptions quickened and strengthened until the
+consciousness of their evolution, gradually growing within her, gave a
+new power and a new sweetness to her life.
+
+And of this victory she showed some traces in her face, which had indeed
+lost none of its physical beauty, but which had now gained a new
+strength and a new sweetness. She was more admired than ever, but there
+were men who called her difficult--even a little fastidious, and others
+who found her very hard to get on with. The great artist who had just
+taken Sir Allan Beaumerville's place by her side was not one of these.
+
+"I am so glad that you are here to-day, Miss Thurwell," he said, holding
+her grey-gloved hand in his for a moment. "I have been looking for you
+everywhere."
+
+"That is very nice of you," she answered, smiling up at him.
+
+"Ah! but I didn't mean only for my own sake. I know that you like
+meeting interesting people, and to-day there is an opportunity for you."
+
+"Really! and who is it, Mr. Carlyon? How good of you to think of me!"
+
+"You remember telling me how much you admire Maddison's work."
+
+"Why, yes! But he is not here, surely?" she exclaimed. "It cannot be
+he!"
+
+Mr. Carlyon smiled at her sudden enthusiasm. After all, this woman had
+fire. She was too much of the artist to be without it.
+
+"He is not here now, but he will be. I could not believe it myself at
+first, for I know that he is a perfect recluse. But I have just asked
+Lady Meltoun, and there is no doubt about it. It seems that they came
+across him in a lonely part of Spain, and he saved the life of Lady
+Meltoun's only child--a little boy. It is quite a romantic story. He
+promised to come and seem them directly he returned to England, and he
+is expected here to-day."
+
+"I shall like to see him very much," she said thoughtfully. "Lately I
+have been reading him a great deal. It is strange, but the tone of his
+writings seems always to remind me of some one I once knew."
+
+"There is no one of to-day who writes such prose," the artist answered.
+"To me, his work seems to have reached that exquisite blending of matter
+and form which is the essence of all true art."
+
+"All his ideas of culture and the inner life are so simple and yet so
+beautiful."
+
+"And the language with which he clothes them is divine. His work appeals
+everywhere to the purest and most artistic side of our emotional
+natures; and it is always on the same level. It has only one
+fault--there is so little of it."
+
+"Do you know him?" she asked, deeply interested.
+
+"I do. I met him in Pisa some years ago, and, although he is a
+strangely reserved man, we became almost intimate. I am looking forward
+to introducing him to you."
+
+"I shall like it very much," she answered simply.
+
+"Who is the fortunate individual to be so highly favored?" asked a
+pleasant voice close to her side.
+
+"You have returned, then, Sir Allan?" she said, looking up at him with a
+smile. "Have you heard the news? Do you know who is expected?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I have heard nothing," he said. "If I am to have a sensation, it will
+be you who will impart it to me. Don't tell me all at once. I like
+expectancy."
+
+She laughed.
+
+"What an epicure you are, Sir Allan! Come, prepare for something very
+delightful, and I will tell you."
+
+"Is it the prince?" he asked.
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"The Mikado in disguise? The Khedive incognito? Mr. Gladstone?"
+
+She shook her head again.
+
+"The sensation will be more delightful than you imagine, evidently.
+There have been many Khedives, and many Mikados, but there can never be
+another Bernard Maddison."
+
+A disturbed shade seemed to fall upon the baronet's face. She followed
+his eyes, riveted upon the door. The hum of conversation had suddenly
+ceased, and every one was looking in the same direction. On the
+threshold stood a tall, gaunt man, gazing in upon the scene before him
+with an expression of distinct aversion, mingled with indifference. He
+was dressed just like the other men, in a long frock coat, and he had a
+white gardenia in his buttonhole. But there was something about him
+distinct and noticeable--something in the quiet easy manner with which
+he at last moved forward to greet his hostess, which seemed to thrill
+her through and through with a sense of sweet familiarity. And then she
+caught a turn of his head as he stooped down over Lady Meltoun's hand,
+and a great wave of bewilderment, mingled with an acute throbbing joy,
+swept in upon her. This man, whom every one was gazing at with such
+eager interest, was her father's tenant, Mr. Bernard Brown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+A SNUB FOR A BARONET
+
+
+Those few moments were full of a strange, intense interest to the three
+persons who side by side had watched the entrance of Mr. Bernard
+Maddison. To Helen Thurwell, whose whole being was throbbing with a
+great quickening joy, they were passed in a strenuous effort to struggle
+against the faintness which the shock of this great tumult of feeling
+had brought with it. To the artist, who loved her, they brought their
+own peculiar despair as he watched the light playing upon her features,
+and the new glow of happiness which shone in those sweet, sad eyes. And
+to Sir Allan Beaumerville, who had reasons of his own for surprise at
+this meeting, they brought a distinct sensation of annoyance.
+
+The artist was the first to recover himself. He knew that the battle was
+over for him, that this woman already loved, and that his cause was
+hopeless. And with little of man's ordinary selfishness on such
+occasions, his first thought was for her.
+
+"You would like to change your seat," he whispered. "Come with me into
+the recess yonder. I will show you some engravings."
+
+She flashed a grateful look up at him, and saw that he knew her secret.
+
+"I should like it," she said. "Walk that side of me, please."
+
+They rose and made their way to one of the little screened recesses
+which people--especially young people--said made Lady Meltoun's rooms so
+delightful. He placed a chair for her, and taking up a book of
+engravings buried himself in it.
+
+"Don't speak to me for five minutes, please," he said. "I am looking for
+a design."
+
+At the end of that time he closed the book, and looked up at her. There
+was no fear of her fainting now. She was very pale, but she seemed quite
+calm.
+
+"I am going to speak to Maddison," he said quietly. "Do you--may I bring
+him and introduce him to you?"
+
+She looked up at him with luminous eyes.
+
+"If you please. Don't tell him my name, though."
+
+"It shall be as you wish," he answered.
+
+By moving her chair a few inches she could see into the room. He was
+still standing by Lady Meltoun's side, listening with an absent smile to
+her chatter, and every now and then bowing gravely to the people whom
+she introduced to him. The hum of conversation had been renewed, but
+many curious glances were cast in his direction, of which he seemed
+altogether unconscious. Even had there not been his great fame as a
+critic and a writer, and the romance of his strange manner of life to
+interest people, his personal appearance alone was sufficient to attract
+attention. He was taller by several inches than any man in the room, and
+his thin oval face, refined yet strong and full of a subtle artistic
+sensibility, was in itself a deeply interesting study. How different he
+appeared here in his well-fitting, fashionable clothes, and calm
+distinctive manner, and with just that essence of wearied languor in his
+dark eyes which men of the world can only imitate! He had changed, and
+yet he had not changed, she thought. He was the same, and yet there was
+a difference. Presently she saw Mr. Carlyon reach his side, and the
+greeting which passed between the two men was marked with a certain
+quiet cordiality which bore out Mr. Carlyon's words, that they had once
+been fellow-workers. Watching his opportunity, the artist drew him a
+little on one side, and made his request. Helen drew back trembling with
+expectancy. But a few minutes later Mr. Carlyon came back to her alone.
+
+"I am sorry," he said simply, "but, even to oblige me, Maddison won't
+come. I had no idea he was such a misogynist. He is here, he says, to
+keep a promise, but he wishes for no acquaintances, and he absolutely
+declines to be introduced to any woman, unless it is forced upon him.
+What shall I do? Shall I tell him your name?"
+
+She hesitated.
+
+"No, don't tell him that," she said. "Do you remember a few lines of
+poetry of his at the end of his last volume of criticisms? There is a
+little clump of firs on the top of a bare wind-swept hill, with the moon
+shining faintly through a veil of mist, and a man and woman standing
+together like carved figures against the sky, listening to the far-off
+murmur of the sea."
+
+"Yes, I remember it," he said slowly.
+
+"Then will you tell him that some one--some one who has seen such a
+place as he describes, is----?"
+
+"I will tell him," Mr. Carlyon answered. "I think that he will come
+now."
+
+He left her again, and went back towards Mr. Maddison. Just as he got
+within speaking distance he saw a slight quiver pass across the white
+face, as though he had recognized some one in the crowd. Mr. Carlyon
+hesitated, and decided to wait for a moment.
+
+They were standing face to face, Sir Allan Beaumerville, the
+distinguished baronet, who had added to the dignity of an ancient family
+and vast wealth, a great reputation as a savant and a _dilettante_
+physician, and Mr. Bernard Maddison, whose name alone was sufficient to
+bespeak his greatness. In Sir Allan's quiet, courteous look, there was a
+slightly puzzled air as though there were something in the other's face
+which he only half remembered. In Mr. Maddison's fixed gaze there was a
+far greater intensity--something even of anxiety.
+
+"Surely we have met before, Mr. Maddison," the baronet said easily.
+"Your face seems quite familiar to me. Ah! I remember now, it was near
+that place of Lord Lathon's, Mallory Grange, upon the coast. A terrible
+affair, that."
+
+"Yes, a terrible affair," Mr. Maddison repeated.
+
+"And have you just come from ----shire?" Sir Allan asked.
+
+"No; I have been abroad for several months," Mr. Maddison answered.
+
+"Abroad!" Sir Allan appeared a little more interested. "In what part?"
+he asked civilly.
+
+"I have been in Spain, and the south of France, across the Hartz
+mountains, and through the Black Forest."
+
+"Not in Italy?" Sir Allan inquired.
+
+There was a short silence, and Sir Allan seemed really anxious for the
+reply. It came at last.
+
+"No; not in Italy."
+
+Sir Allan seemed positively pleased to think that Mr. Maddison had not
+extended his travels to Italy. There was a quiet gleam in his eyes which
+seemed almost like relief. Doubtless he had his reasons, but they were
+a little obscure.
+
+"Ah! Shall you call upon me while you are in town, Mr. Maddison?" he
+asked, in a tone from which all invitation was curiously lacking.
+
+"I think not," Mr. Maddison answered. "My stay here will be brief. I
+dislike London."
+
+Sir Allan laughed gently.
+
+"It is the only place in the world fit to live in," he answered.
+
+"My work and my tastes demand a quieter life," Mr. Maddison remarked.
+
+"You will go into the country then, I suppose."
+
+"That is my intention," was the quiet reply.
+
+"Back to the same neighborhood."
+
+"It is possible."
+
+Sir Allan looked searchingly into the other's calm, expressionless face.
+
+"I should have thought that the associations----"
+
+Mr. Maddison was evidently not used to society. Several people said so
+who saw him suddenly turn his back on that charming old gentleman, Sir
+Allan Beaumerville, and leave him in the middle of a sentence. Lady
+Meltoun, who happened to notice it, was quite distressed at seeing an
+old friend treated in such a manner. But Sir Allan took it very nicely,
+everybody said. There had been a flush in his face just for a moment,
+but it soon died away. It was his own fault, he declared. He had
+certainly made an unfortunate remark, and these artists and literary men
+were all so sensitive. He hoped that Lady Meltoun would think no more of
+it, and accordingly Lady Meltoun promised not to. But though, of course,
+she and every one else who had seen it sympathized with Sir Allan, there
+were one or two, with whom Sir Allan was not quite such a favorite, who
+could not help remarking upon the grand air with which Mr. Maddison had
+turned his back upon the baronet, and the dignity with which he had left
+him.
+
+Mr. Carlyon, who had been watching for his opportunity, buttonholed
+Maddison, and led him into a corner.
+
+"I've got you now," he said triumphantly. "My dear fellow, whatever made
+you snub poor Sir Allan like that?"
+
+"Never mind. Come and make your adieux to Lady Meltoun, and let us go. I
+should not have come here."
+
+"One moment first, Maddison," the artist said seriously. "Do you
+remember those lines of yours in which a man and woman stand on a bare
+hill by a clump of pines, and watch the misty moonlight cast weird
+shadows upon the hillside and over the quivering sea? 'A Farewell,' you
+called it, I think?"
+
+"Yes; I remember them."
+
+"Maddison, the woman to whom I wished to introduce you bids you to go to
+her by the memory of those lines."
+
+There was very little change in his face. It only grew a little more
+rigid, and a strange light gleamed in his eyes. But the hand which he
+had laid on Carlyon's arm to draw him towards Lady Meltoun suddenly
+tightened like a band of iron, till the artist nearly cried out with
+pain.
+
+"Let go my arm, for God's sake, man!" he said in a low tone, "and I will
+take you to her."
+
+"I am ready," Mr. Maddison answered quietly. "Ah! I see where she is.
+You need not come."
+
+He crossed the room, absolutely heedless of more than one attempt to
+stop him. Mr. Carlyon watched him, and then with a sore heart bade his
+hostess farewell, and hurried away. He was generous enough to help
+another man to his happiness, but he could not stay and watch it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+BERNARD MADDISON AND HELEN THURWELL
+
+
+And so it was in Lady Meltoun's drawing-room that they met again, after
+those few minutes in the pine plantation which had given color and
+passion to her life, and which had formed an epoch in his. Neither were
+unmindful of the fact that if they were not exactly the centre of
+observation, they were still liable to it in some degree, and their
+greeting was as conventional as it well could have been. After all, she
+thought, why should it be otherwise? There had never a word of love
+passed between them--only those few fateful moments of tragic intensity,
+when all words and thoughts had been merged in a deep reciprocal
+consciousness which nothing could have expressed.
+
+He stood before her, holding her hand in his for a moment longer than
+was absolutely necessary, and looking at her intently. It was a gaze
+from which she did not shrink, more critical than passionate, and when
+he withdrew his eyes he looked away from her with a sigh.
+
+"You have been living!" he said. "Tell me all about it!"
+
+She moved her skirts to make room for him by her side.
+
+"Sit down!" she said, "and I will try."
+
+He obeyed, but when she tried to commence and tell him all that she had
+felt and thought, she could not. Until that moment she scarcely
+realized how completely her life had been moulded by his influence. It
+was he who had first given her a glimpse of that new world of thought
+and art, and almost epicurean culture into which she had made some
+slight advance during his absence, and it was certain vague but sweet
+recollections of him which had lived with her and flowed through her
+life--a deep undercurrent of passion and poetry, throwing a golden halo
+over all those new sensations--which had raised her existence, and her
+ideals of existence on to a higher level. How could she tell him this?
+The time might come when she could do so, and if ever it did come, she
+knew that it would be the happiest moment of her life. But it was not
+yet.
+
+"Tell me a little of yourself," she said evasively. "You have been
+traveling, have you not?"
+
+"Yes, I have been traveling a little!" he answered. "In Spain I was
+taken ill, and Lady Meltoun was kind to me. That is why I am here."
+
+"But you do not say how it was that you were taken ill," she said, her
+cheeks suddenly glowing. "You saved her son's life. We saw all about it
+in the papers, but of course we did not know that it was you. It was
+splendid!"
+
+"If you saw it in the papers at all, depend upon it, it was very much
+exaggerated!" he answered quietly. "Your father received my letter, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Yes; the cottage has been shut up, just as you desired. Are you ever
+coming to take possession again?"
+
+"I hope so--some day--and yet I do not know. There are strange things in
+my life, Miss Thurwell, which every now and then rise up and drive me
+away into aimless wanderings. Life has no goal for me--it cannot have.
+I stand for ever on the brink of a precipice."
+
+There was a sadness in his voice which almost brought the tears into her
+eyes--mostly for his sake, partly for her own. For, though he might
+never know it, were not his sorrows her sorrows?
+
+"Are they sorrows which you can tell to no one?" she asked softly. "Can
+no one help you?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No one."
+
+"And yet no sorrow can last for ever that has not guilt at its root,"
+she said.
+
+"Mine will last while life lasts," he answered; "and there is--no guilt
+at the root."
+
+"You have taken up another's burden," she said. "Is it well? Do you owe
+nothing to yourself, and your own genius? Sorrow may shorten your life,
+and the world can ill spare your work."
+
+"There are others who can do my work," he said. "No other can----But
+forgive me. I wish to talk of this no more. Tell me of your life since I
+left you. Something in your face tells me that it has been well spent.
+Let me hear of it."
+
+And, gathering up all her courage, she told him. Piece by piece she took
+up the disconnected thoughts and ideas which had come to her, and wove
+them together after the pattern of her life--to which he listened with a
+calm approval, in which was sometimes mingled a deeper enthusiasm, as
+she touched a chord which in his own being had often been struck to deep
+tremulous music. And as she went on he grew sad. With such a companion
+as this woman, whose sensibilities were his sensibilities, and whose
+instincts so naturally cultured, so capable of the deeper coloring and
+emotional passion which his influence could speedily develop--with such
+a woman as this--whom already he loved, what might not life mean for
+him? Well, it must pass. Another of those bright butterfly visions of
+his fancy, gorgeous with hope and brilliancy--another one to be crushed
+by the iron hand of necessity. He had gone away wounded, and he had come
+back to find the wound still bleeding.
+
+Gradually the rooms were thinning, and at last Lady Thurwell, impatient
+of her niece's long absence, came to fetch her. When she found her
+_tete-a-tete_ with the lion of the day, however, her manner was most
+gracious.
+
+"I hope you have been able to persuade Mr. Maddison to come and see us,"
+she said to her niece. "We are at home on Thursdays at Cadogan Square,
+and we lunch every day at two," she added, turning towards him. "Come
+whenever you like."
+
+"You are very good, Lady Thurwell," he said, accepting her offered hand.
+"I am only passing through London, but if I have the opportunity I shall
+avail myself of your kindness."
+
+She left them together for a moment while she made her adieux to her
+hostess. In that moment Helen found courage to yield to a sudden
+impulse.
+
+"Please come," she said softly.
+
+He had no time to answer, for Lady Meltoun had come up to them.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," she said good-naturedly, "I don't know when I shall
+forgive you for monopolizing Mr. Maddison in this shameful manner. Why,
+there were quite a crowd of people came this afternoon only to catch a
+glimpse of him, and there was nothing to be seen but his boots behind
+that screen. I am in terrible disgrace, I can assure you!"
+
+"The fault was mine," he interposed, "altogether mine. In an
+ungovernable fit of shyness, I took refuge with the only person except
+yourself, Lady Meltoun, whom I was fortunate enough to know. I simply
+refused to come away."
+
+"Well, I suppose I must forgive you, or you won't come again," Lady
+Meltoun said. "But now you are here, you must really stop and see Edgar.
+When every one has gone we will go up to the nursery, and in the
+meantime you may make yourself useful by taking Lady Thurwell out to her
+carriage. I'm afraid there's rather a crush."
+
+So they all three went out together, and while they stood waiting for
+Lady Thurwell's victoria, he managed to say a word to her alone.
+
+"I will come and see you," he whispered.
+
+She looked up at him a little shyly, for in handing her into the
+carriage he had assumed a certain air of proprietorship which had
+brought a faint color into her cheeks.
+
+"Come soon," she whispered. "Good-bye!"
+
+She nodded brightly, and Lady Thurwell smiled as the horses started
+forward, and the carriage drove away.
+
+"I wonder who Mr. Maddison really is?" she said, half to herself, just
+as they reached home.
+
+Lady Thurwell shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"Do you mean who his family are?" she asked. "My dear, it isn't of the
+slightest consequence. Bernard Maddison is Bernard Maddison, and his
+position would be just what it is, even though his father were a coal
+heaver."
+
+Which remark showed that Lady Thurwell, as well as being a woman of
+society, was also a woman of sense. But Helen was not thinking of his
+family.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+A CHEQUE FOR L1,000
+
+
+It was ten o'clock in the morning, and the usual routine of business had
+commenced in the office of Messrs. Levy & Son. Mr. Levy, senior, was
+sitting at his desk opening his letters, and Mr. Benjamin, who had only
+just returned from a long journey on business of the firm, and did not
+feel inclined for office work, was leaning back in the client's chair,
+with his feet up against the mantelpiece, and a partly smoked cigar in
+his mouth. He had just finished a long account of his adventures, and
+was by no means inclined to quit the subject.
+
+"Altogether, dad," he was saying, "it's about the prettiest piece of
+business we ever struck. But one thing is very certain. We must get some
+more tin from Miss Thurwell. Why, I've been at it five months now, and
+the expenses at some of those foreign hotels were positively awful. Not
+knowing the confounded lingo, you see, I was forced to stump up, without
+trying the knocking-off game."
+
+"Yes, Benjamin. Yes, my son. We must certainly have some more of the
+rhino. Your expenses have been positively e-normous, e-normous,"
+declared the old man, with uplifted hands and eyes. "Some of your drafts
+have brought tears into my eyes. Positively tears," he echoed
+mournfully.
+
+"Couldn't be helped, guv'nor. The thing had to be done."
+
+"And you have got it nearly all in order now, Benjamin, eh? You've got
+him under your thumb, eh? He can't escape?"
+
+"Not he! Mark my words, dad. The rope's already woven that'll go round
+his neck."
+
+The old man looked doubtful.
+
+"If he's such a learned, clever man as you say--writes books and such
+like--they'll never hang him, my son. They'll reprieve him. That's what
+they'll do."
+
+"I don't care a blooming fig which it is, so long as it comes off. Do
+you remember what I told you when Miss Thurwell first came here, dad?"
+
+"Perfectly, my son, perfectly. You said that our fortune was made. Those
+were your very words," he added, with glistening eyes. "Our fortune is
+made."
+
+"And what I said I'll stick to," Mr. Benjamin declared. "When this case
+comes off, it'll be the biggest thundering sensation of the day. And
+who'll get the credit of it all? Who tracked him down for all his false
+name and sly ways; hunted him all over Europe, found out who he really
+was, and why he hated Sir Geoffrey Kynaston so much that he murdered
+him? Why, I did, dad--Benjamin Levy, of Levy & Son, Carle Street,
+Strand. Ain't it glorious, guv'nor? Ain't it proud?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin's enthusiasm was catching. It was reflected in his father's
+face, and something glistened in his eyes. He removed his spectacles,
+and carefully wiped them. After all, he was a father, and he had a
+father's feelings.
+
+"When will the time come, Benjamin?" he inquired.
+
+"A month to-day, I hope," was the prompt reply. "I have one more
+journey to take, and it will be all square."
+
+"Where to? How far?" inquired the old gentleman uneasily.
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at him, and shook his head. "Come, dad, I know what
+you are thinking of," he said. "It's the expense, ain't it?"
+
+"It is, Benjamin," his father groaned. "I hate parting with hard-earned
+money for exorbitant bills and these long journeys. Couldn't it be done
+without it, Ben?" he inquired, in a wheedling tone. "There's piles of
+money gone already in expenses. Piles and piles."
+
+"And if there is, ain't it Miss Thurwell's, you old stupid?" remarked
+Mr. Benjamin. "'Tain't likely that we should find the money ourselves."
+
+"Of course, of course. But, Benjamin, my son, the money is thrown away
+for all that. We could charge it, you know--charge it always. We must
+have a margin--we must positively have a margin to work with."
+
+"Dad, dad, what an old sinner you are!" exclaimed his hopeful son,
+leaning back in his chair and laughing. "A margin to work with. Ha! ha!
+ha!"
+
+Mr. Levy looked uncertain whether to regard his son's merriment as a
+compliment, or to resent it. Eventually, the former appeared to him the
+wisest course, and he smiled feebly.
+
+"Dad, just you leave this matter with me," Mr. Benjamin said at last. "I
+know what I'm doing, and unless I'm very much mistaken, I see my way to
+make this a bigger thing, even as regards the cash, than you and I ever
+dreamed of. Leave it to me. Hullo! who's that?"
+
+He peered up over the office blind, and sat down again at once. In a
+moment his cigar was behind the grate, and his expression completely
+changed.
+
+"Ah! Miss Thurwell, dad," he said coolly, "and I'll bet ten to one I
+know what she wants. Mind you leave it all to me. I've no time to
+explain, but you'll spoil it if you interfere. Come in. Why, Miss
+Thurwell, we were this moment talking of you," he continued, springing
+to his feet and offering her a chair. "Please come in."
+
+Helen advanced into the room, and lifted her veil. One swift glance into
+her flushed face confirmed Mr. Benjamin's idea as to the reason of her
+visit, and he commenced talking rapidly.
+
+"I'm glad you've come this morning, Miss Thurwell. I only got back from
+Spain yesterday, and I'm thankful to tell you our case is nearly
+complete. Thankful for your sake, because you will have the satisfaction
+of seeing the murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston brought to book, and
+thankful for ours, because we shall at one stroke establish our
+reputation. I need not tell you that that is far more to us than the
+reward will be, for our expenses have been enormous."
+
+"Enormous!" groaned Mr. Levy, senior.
+
+"However, we have decided not to take another penny of money from you,
+Miss Thurwell," he continued, casting a warning glance at his father.
+"After all, the money is not so much to us as our reputation, and this
+will be made for ever, now."
+
+Mr. Benjamin paused, a little out of breath, but quite satisfied with
+himself. Opposite, his father was purple with anger, and almost choking
+at his son's folly. Take no more money from Miss Thurwell! Was the boy
+mad?
+
+"I'm afraid, from what you say, Mr. Levy," Helen said hesitatingly,
+"that you will be rather disappointed when I tell you the reason of my
+visit."
+
+Mr. Benjamin, who knew perfectly well what she was going to say, assumed
+an expression of deep concern.
+
+"I find," she continued, "that we must have been making a mistake all
+along, and you have evidently been misled. This Mr. Brown, who appeared
+such a mysterious personage to us, and whom we therefore suspected, is
+no other than Bernard Maddison."
+
+"Yes. I knew that," Mr. Benjamin remarked quietly. "I found that out
+very soon, of course. Author, and all that sort of thing, isn't he?
+Well, go on, Miss Thurwell, please. I am anxious."
+
+She looked surprised.
+
+"Don't you see that this does away with our theory at once? It is quite
+impossible that a man like Bernard Maddison could have committed a
+horrible crime like this."
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked ingenuously perplexed.
+
+"I can't say that I follow you, Miss Thurwell," he said, shaking his
+head. "All I know is that I can prove this Mr. Bernard Brown, or Bernard
+Maddison, or whatever else he chooses to call himself, guilty of that
+murder. That's what we want, isn't it?"
+
+A cold chill passed over her, and she was compelled to sink into the
+chair which stood by her side. Like a flash she suddenly realized the
+impossibility of convincing such men as these of his innocence. Yet,
+even then, the worst side of the situation did not occur to her.
+
+"Perhaps we had better put it in this way, Mr. Levy," she said. "I gave
+you certain instructions to follow out, which I now rescind. I wish
+nothing further done in the matter."
+
+Mr. Benjamin's face was a study. He had contrived to conjure up an
+expression which combined the blankest surprise with the keenest
+disappointment. Helen began to feel still more uncomfortable.
+
+"Under the circumstances," she said, "and as you seem rather
+disappointed, I will pay you the reward just as though the thing had
+gone on."
+
+Mr. Benjamin shook his head slowly.
+
+"Do you know, Miss Thurwell, that you are proposing a conspiracy to me?"
+
+"A conspiracy!" she repeated. "I don't understand."
+
+"It's very simple," he went on gravely. "I have in my possession, or
+shortly shall have, every particular of this Mr. Maddison's life. I can
+show the connection between him and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, and, in
+short, I can prove him guilty of murder. What you ask me to do is to
+suppress this. That is the moral side of the question. Then, with regard
+to the practical side, if this thing is gone on with, we shall get the
+reward you promised and, what is far more important to us, a reputation
+which we have looked forward to as a certain foundation for a great
+extension of our business. If, on the other hand, we drop it, we get
+simply the reward, which, pardon my saying so, would be a miserable
+return for all our labor. That is how the matter stands from our point
+of view. I think I've expressed it fairly, father?"
+
+Mr. Levy, who had assumed a far more contented expression, solemnly
+assented. What a son this was of his, he thought. Bless him!
+
+Helen was very pale, and her heart was beating fast. Why had she come to
+this place, and put herself in the power of these men? It was too
+dreadful.
+
+"I do not desire to hear a word of Mr. Maddison's history," she said.
+"This thing must be stopped. I have my cheque book with me. Cannot you
+take money to withdraw from it?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin looked at his father gravely, and Mr. Levy shook his head.
+
+"My dear young lady," he said, "this is a very serious thing, a very
+serious thing."
+
+"The fact is," said Mr. Benjamin, "I was going to Scotland Yard for a
+warrant this morning."
+
+Helen looked from one to the other appealingly, with tears in her eyes.
+Mr. Benjamin appeared to be somewhat moved thereby.
+
+"Look here, dad," he said, "suppose we go into the other room and talk
+this thing over for a few minutes. Miss Thurwell will not mind excusing
+us."
+
+"Oh, no. Only don't be long!" she pleaded.
+
+They left her for barely five minutes, although to her, waiting in an
+agony of impatience, it seemed much longer. When they returned, they
+both looked very solemn.
+
+"We have talked this matter over thoroughly, Miss Thurwell," said Mr.
+Benjamin, taking up his old position at the desk, "and we cannot help
+seeing that it is a great risk for us to run to suppress our
+information, and a great disappointment."
+
+"Quite so, quite so," interrupted Mr. Levy. "A great risk, and a great
+disappointment!"
+
+"Still, we are willing and anxious to help you," Mr. Benjamin continued,
+"and, if you like, we will do so on these terms. If you like to give us
+a cheque for a thousand pounds, we will agree to let the matter stand
+over for the present. We cannot give you any undertaking to absolutely
+destroy or suppress any evidence we may have against Mr. Maddison, as
+that would be a distinct conspiracy, but we will agree to suspend our
+present action, and to do nothing without communicating with you."
+
+She moved to the desk, and drew out her cheque book.
+
+"I will do it," she said. "Give me a pen, please."
+
+There was not the slightest sign of emotion on either of their faces.
+They received the cheque, bowed her out, and watched her disappear into
+the street without making any sign. Then Mr. Benjamin's exultation broke
+out.
+
+"Dad, I told you that our fortune was made, didn't I. Was I right or
+wrong?"
+
+Mr. Levy was so overcome with parental affection, that he could scarcely
+command his voice. But he did so with an effort.
+
+"You were right, my son," he exclaimed. "You were right, Benjamin. We
+will go together and cash the cheque."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+AN UNPLEASANT DISCOVERY FOR BERNARD BROWN
+
+
+A March wind was roaring over the open moorland, driving huge masses of
+black clouds across the angry sky, and whistling amongst the dark
+patches of pine trees, until it seemed as though their slender stems
+must snap before the strain. All around Falcon's Nest the country, not
+yet released from the iron grip of a late winter, lay wasted and
+desolate; and the heath, which had lost all the glowing touch of autumn,
+faded into the horizon bare and colorless. Nowhere was there any relief
+of outline, save where the white front of Thurwell Court stretched
+plainly visible through a park of leafless trees.
+
+And of all the hours of the day it was at such a season the most
+depressing. Faint gleams of the lingering day still hung over the
+country, struggling with the stormy twilight, and a pale, wan glare,
+varied with long black shadows, moved swiftly across the sea and the
+moor--the reflection of the flying clouds overhead.
+
+A single human being, the figure of a tall man clad in an ulster
+buttoned up to the throat, was making his way across the open country.
+He walked rapidly--and, indeed, there was nothing to tempt any one to
+linger--and his destination was obvious. He was on his way to Falcon's
+Nest.
+
+A drearier abode than it appeared that afternoon never raised its four
+walls to the sky. The grounds which surrounded it had been swept bare
+by the storms of winter, and nothing had been done to repair the
+destruction which they had accomplished. Uprooted shrubs lay dead and
+dying upon the long dank grass, and the creepers torn from the walls
+hung down in pitiful confusion. Every window reflected back the same
+blank uninviting gloom. There was no light, no single sign of
+habitation. Mr. Thurwell had evidently respected his tenant's wish to
+the letter. The place had not been touched or entered during his
+absence.
+
+The pedestrian, Mr. Bernard Brown himself, leaned over the gate for a
+moment, silently contemplating the uninviting scene with a grim smile.
+He had reasons of his own for being satisfied that the place had not
+been interfered with, and it certainly seemed as though such were the
+case.
+
+After a few minutes' hesitation he drew a key from his pocket and fitted
+it in the lock. There was a resistance when he tried to turn it that he
+did not understand. Stooping down, he suddenly tried the handle. It
+opened smoothly. The gate was unlocked. He withdrew the key with
+trembling fingers. All his relief at the dismantled appearance of the
+cottage had disappeared. A strange unquiet look shone in his eyes, and
+his manner suddenly became nervous and hurried. He had locked the gate
+on his departure, he was sure, and Mr. Thurwell's steward had told him
+that there was no duplicate set of keys. How could it have been opened
+save with a skeleton key.
+
+He walked quickly up the path to the front door. Here a greater shock
+still awaited him. The latch-key which he held ready in his hand was not
+needed. He tried the handle, and the door opened.
+
+Mr. Brown grew white to the lips, and he shrank back as though afraid
+or reluctant to enter the house. The door stood ajar. He pushed it open
+with his stick, and peered in upon the darkness. Everything was silent
+as the grave. He listened for a moment, and then, his natural courage
+returning, he stepped inside, and closed the door after him. The
+shutting out of the few gleams of daylight which lingered in the sky
+left him in utter darkness. Fumbling in his pocket, he produced a wax
+candle wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and a box of matches, one of
+which he carefully struck.
+
+At first the gloom seemed too profound to be dispersed by the feeble
+flickering light, but gradually, as his eyes became accustomed to it, he
+began to distinguish the more familiar objects. Half fearfully he
+glanced towards the door on the right-hand side. It stood half open.
+There was no longer room for any doubt. The house had been opened during
+his absence.
+
+The full realization of any disaster often brings with it a calm which,
+to all outward appearance, contrasts favorably with the prior state of
+anxiety. This appeared to be the case with Mr. Bernard Brown. His
+entrance to the house had been hesitating and anxious, but as soon as he
+was convinced that what he dreamed had really come to pass, his
+nervousness seemed to fall away from him, and he was his old self again,
+calm and resolute. Holding the flickering candle high above his head, he
+moved steadily forward into the room on the right-hand side of the
+entrance.
+
+Everything here was exactly as he had left it. The cases filled with
+books, some half emptied, some untouched, still lay about the floor,
+with the dust thick upon them. He cast one swift glance around, and then
+walked across and opened the door of the small inner room. The sudden
+draught extinguished his candle, and he found himself suddenly in total
+darkness. The closely barred shutters, which protected the low window,
+were securely fastened, and effectually shut out the lingering remnants
+of daylight. Stooping down, he re-lit the candle which he was still
+carrying, and holding it high over his head, looked anxiously around.
+One glance was sufficient. In the corner of the room opposite to him was
+a small table, where he always kept a basin of cold water and some clean
+towels. Round here the carpet had been torn up, and rearranged, with
+little pretence at concealment. Nearer the window stood a large oak
+cabinet, the most important piece of furniture in the room, and this he
+saw again in a moment had been tampered with. It had been moved a little
+out of its position, and one of the lower drawers stood partly open.
+
+Like a man in a dream he slowly walked across to it and drew out a bunch
+of keys from his pocket. The final test had yet to be applied, and the
+final blow to fall.
+
+He unlocked the topmost partition, and revealed a number of small
+drawers. Eagerly he drew out the topmost one, and looked inside. Then he
+knew the worst. It was empty. There was no longer any doubt whatever.
+His cottage had been entered by no ordinary housebreaker, for the
+purpose of plunder, but with a set of false keys, and with a far more
+serious object. The secret on which more than his life depended was
+gone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+GOD! THAT I MAY DIE!
+
+
+For a certain space of time, which seemed to him indefinite, but which
+was indeed of no great length, he stood there stunned, gazing at the
+rifled cabinet. Then, as consciousness returned to him, the roar of the
+storm without fell upon his ears, and struck some strange note of accord
+with the tumult in his brain. Turning round, he unbarred the shutters,
+and, opening the window, stepped outside. With slow, uncertain steps he
+made his way through the dense black plantation of shrieking fir trees,
+and out on to the cliffs. Here he paused, and stood quite still, looking
+across the sea. There was no light in the sky, but the veil of absolute
+darkness had not yet fallen upon the earth. Far away on the horizon was
+a lurid patch of deep yellow storm-clouds, casting a faint glimmer upon
+the foaming sea, which seemed to leap up in a weird monotonous joy to
+catch the unearthly light. From inland, rolling across the moorland,
+came phantom-like masses of vaporous cloud, driven on by the fierce wind
+which boomed across the open country, and shrieked and yelled amongst
+the pine plantations as though mad with a sudden hellish joy. On the
+verge of the cliff he stretched out his arms, as though to welcome the
+wild din of the night. The thunder of the ocean, seething and leaping
+against the rocks below, shook the air around him. The salt spray leaped
+up into his white face, and the winds blew against him, and the
+passionate cry of saddened nature rang in his deafened ears. At that
+moment those things were a joy to him.
+
+And there came to him then something of that strange sweet calm which
+lays its soothing hand for a moment upon those who stand face to face
+with death, or any other mighty crisis. Looking steadfastly far away,
+beyond the foaming waste of waters to where one faint streak of
+stormlight shone on the horizon, pictures of the past began to rise up
+before his eyes. He saw himself again a happy, light-hearted child,
+riding gaily upon his father's shoulder, and laughing up into the
+beautiful face of his youthful mother. The memories of that time, and of
+his first home, came back to him with a peculiar freshness and
+fragrance, like a painting by one of the old masters, perfect in design,
+and with its deep rich coloring softened and mellowed by age. He
+remembered the bright beauty of those sunny southern gardens, where he
+had passed long hours listening to the gentle splashing of the water in
+the worn grey fountain bowl, and breathing in the soft spring-like air,
+faint with the sweetness of Roman violets. And, half unconsciously, his
+thoughts travelled on to the time when all the pure beauty of his
+surroundings--for his had been an artist's home--had begun to have a
+distinct meaning for him, and in the fervor of an esthetic and unusually
+thoughtful youth, he had dreamed, and felt, and tasted deep of pleasures
+which the world yields only to those who stoop to listen to her secrets,
+with the quickened sensibilities and glowing imagination of the
+artist--one of her own children. He had read her in such a way that he
+found himself struggling, even in early boyhood, for some means of
+expression--but at that time none had come to him. The fruits of his
+later life had been the result of his early experience, but how
+embittered, how saddened by the unchanging gloom, which, at one period,
+had seemed as though it must dry up for ever all enthusiasm from his
+boyish heart. What a fire of passions had blazed up and died away within
+him; and as he thought of that sudden dying away, he thought of the
+moment when they had been quenched for ever, and of the voice which had
+quenched them. Again he crouched on his knees by the side of the sofa
+drawn up close to the high open windows of the Italian villa, and felt
+that thin white hand laid gently upon his trembling lips, checking in a
+moment the flood of angry words which in his heart had been but the
+prelude to a curse. The calm of that death-white face, with its marble
+passionless pallor and saint-like beauty, lingered still, faithfully
+treasured up in the rich store-house of his memory. Death alone would
+wipe it out. It was one of the experiences of his life, written alike
+into his undying recollection, and into his heart.
+
+And then had come that period of severe struggle with himself, out of
+which he had emerged not only a conqueror, but with all the spoils of
+conquest. For he had found himself, after the battle was fought out and
+won, possessed of a more triumphant self-control, and a complete mastery
+over those fierce earthly passions which, had they held sway for long,
+would in time most surely have weakened that higher and purer part of
+his nature from which all the good of his life had come. It was, indeed,
+in some measure owing to the wholesome discipline of this struggle that
+he had found at last the long-sought-for gift of expression, and,
+taking up the pen, had sent forth golden words and thoughts into an age
+where such metal was rare indeed. Always there had been this dark cloud
+of anxiety looming over him, and leading him into many countries and
+constantly denying him the peace for which he longed. Then had come the
+climax of it all, the tragedy which had thrown over him the lowering
+cloud of a hideous danger. Failure was his. The moment of trial had
+come, and he had been unequal to it; and day and night there rang ever
+in his ears the faint far-off whisper of those tremulous lips, and the
+pleading light in those burning eyes seemed ever before him. Again he
+felt the touch of that icy cold hand, and again he remembered the words
+of the oath which, alas! he had not kept. Oh, it was horrible!
+
+Once more his thoughts moved on a stage, and this time they reached
+their climax. Before his fixed eyes there floated the image of a sweet,
+wistful face glowing with healthy physical life, and yet with all that
+delicate refinement of coloring and feature which had made her face
+linger in his artist's memory for years before she had dwelt in his
+man's heart. It was a torture of hell, this, that the fairest and
+sweetest part of a man's life--his love--should come to him at such a
+time. And then for one brief moment all memory of his misery passed away
+from him, and his whole being became absorbed in a luxury of
+recollection. He thought of the change which his love had wrought in
+him. What had life been before? A long series of artistic and
+philosophical abstractions, bringing their own peculiar content, but a
+content never free from disquieting thought and restless doubts. How
+could it be otherwise? Was he not human like other men? Asceticism and
+intellect, and a certain purity of life which an almost epicurean
+refinement had rendered beautiful to him, these, easily keeping in sway
+his passionate temperament through all the long years of his life, now
+only served to fan the flame of that great pure love which had suddenly
+leaped up within him, a blazing, unquenchable fire. Human emotion once
+aroused, had thrilled through all his being with a sweet, heart-stirring
+music, and his whole nature was shaking from its very foundation. To him
+such a love seemed like the rounding of his life, the panacea for all
+that vague disquiet which, even in the moments of most perfect
+intellectual serenity, had sometimes disturbed him. The love of such a
+man was no light thing. It had mingled with his heart's blood, with the
+very essence of all his being. No death, no annihilation was possible
+for it. It was a part of himself, woven unchangeably into his life in a
+glowing skein, the brilliant colors of which could never fade. He looked
+into the future, golden with the light of such a love, and he saw a
+vision of perfect happiness, of joy beyond all expression, of deep, calm
+content, surpassing anything which he had known. Hand in hand he saw two
+figures, himself and her, gliding through the years with a sort of
+effortless energy, tasting together of everything in life that was
+sweet, and pure, and beautiful; scattering all trouble and worldly
+vexation to the winds, by the touchstone of their undying love. There
+was intoxication--ethereal intoxication in such a vision. The winds blew
+against him, and the torrents of driven rain, cold and stinging, dashed
+themselves against his pale, steadfast face. Down on the beach below the
+mad sea was thundering upon the cliffs, flinging its white spray so high
+that it glittered like specks of luminous white light against the black
+waters. Yet he noticed none of it. Until the brilliancy of that vision
+which glowed before him faded, nothing external could withdraw his
+thoughts.
+
+And fade away it did at last, and neither the cold rain nor the howling
+wind had given him such a chill as crept through all his body, when
+memory and realization drove forth this sweet flower of his imagination.
+All the cruel hopelessness, the horror of his position, rushed in upon
+him like a foul nightmare. He saw himself shunned and despised, the
+faces of all men averted from him; all that had gone to make his life
+worthy, and even famous, forgotten in the stigma of an awful crime. He
+saw her eager, beautiful face, white and convulsed with horror,
+shrinking away from him as from some loathsome object. God! it was
+madness to think of it! Let this thought go from him, fade away from his
+reeling brain, or he would surely go mad.
+
+Heedless of the fury of the winds that roared over the moorland, and
+sobbed and shrieked in the pine grove, he threw himself upon his knees
+close to the very verge of the cliff, and stretched out his hands to the
+darkened heavens in a passionate gesture of despair. It was the first
+time during all the fierce troubles of a stormy life that he had shrunk
+down, beaten for the moment by the utter hopelessness of the struggle
+which seemed to him now fast drawing toward its end.
+
+"God! that I may die!" he moaned. "That I may die!"
+
+And, as though in answer to his prayer, life for him suddenly became a
+doubtful thing. A wild gust of wind had uprooted a young fir tree from
+the plantation, and bearing it with a savage glee toward the cliff side,
+dashed it against the kneeling man. There was no chance for him against
+it. Over they went, man and tree together, to all appearance bound for
+inevitable destruction.
+
+Even in that second, when he felt himself being hurled over the cliff,
+by what force he knew not, the consciousness of the sudden granting of
+his prayer flashed across his mind, and, strange though it may seem,
+brought with it a deep content. It was as he would have it be, death
+sudden and unfelt. But following close upon it came another thought, so
+swiftly works the brain in the time of a great crisis. He would be found
+dead, and everyone, in the light of what would soon be made known, would
+surely call it suicide. She would think so, too. Death on such terms he
+would not willingly have.
+
+Effort followed swiftly upon thought. He clutched wildly at the cliff
+side during the first second of that flying descent, and the wind
+bending it almost double, brought a stunted fir tree sapling within his
+reach. He grasped it, and he was saved. Only a yard or two away, the
+cliff side was black with them growing so closely together that he
+pulled himself with ease from one to another till he climbed over the
+cliff top, and stood again upright on the ground.
+
+His hands were bleeding, and his clothes were hanging round him in rags.
+Yet, in a certain sense, his narrow escape had done him good, for it had
+brought very vividly before him the impiety of his prayer. He had given
+way too long to maddening thoughts, and they had unnerved him. With the
+consciousness of his escape, all the manliness of his nature reasserted
+itself. He had faced this thing so long that he would face it now to the
+end. Let it come when it would, he would summon up all his strength, and
+meet it like a man. After death was peace for everlasting. God keep him
+in that faith!
+
+He turned away from the cliff, and walked quickly back to the cottage,
+making his plans as he went. First he changed all his clothes, and then
+opening again his rifled cabinet, he transferred the remaining papers to
+a small handbag. These were all his preparations, but when he stepped
+out again and walked down the path of his garden, a change had fallen
+upon the earth. Faint gleams of dawn were breaking through the eastern
+sky, and though the sea was still troubled and crested with white-foamed
+breakers, the wind had gone down. Compared with the violence of the
+storm a few hours back, the stillness of the gray twilight was full of a
+peculiar impressiveness. Peace after the storm. Rest after trouble.
+
+And something of this saddened peace crept into the heart of the
+solitary figure crossing the moorland--on his way back to face a doom
+which seemed closing in fast around him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE HAS A CALLER
+
+
+Sir Allan Beaumerville, Bart., _dilettante_ physician and man of
+fashion, was, on the whole, one of the most popular men in London
+society. He was rich, of distinguished appearance, had charming manners,
+and was a bachelor, which combination might possibly account in some
+measure for the high esteem in which he was held amongst the opposite
+sex. He had made his _debut_ in society quite late in life, for he had
+succeeded to the baronetcy, which was one of the oldest and richest in
+the country, unexpectedly; and, as a young man, London--fashionable
+London, at any rate--had seen or known nothing of him. Nor, indeed, had
+he at any time had much to say to anyone about the earlier period of his
+life. It was generally understood that he had lived abroad, and that he
+had been in some sort of practice, or how else could he have acquired
+his knowledge of the technical part of his profession? Beyond this,
+nothing was known; and although he was evidently a traveled man, having
+much to say at times about all the interesting parts of Southern Europe,
+no one ever remembered meeting him anywhere. For the rest, he had passed
+through none of the curriculum of English youth. No public school had
+had his name upon its books, nor had he even graduated in his own
+country. But he had taken a very high degree indeed at Heidelberg,
+which had won him considerable respect among those who knew anything
+about such matters, and his diplomas included half the letters of the
+alphabet, and were undeniable. And so when he had suddenly appeared in
+London on the death of his uncle and cousin, a middle-aged,
+distinguished gentleman, with manners a little foreign, but in their way
+perfect, society had voted him a great improvement on the former
+baronet, and had taken him by the hand at once. That was a good many
+years ago, and very soon after his first introduction to the London
+world he had become a notable figure in it. He had never missed a town
+season, and at all its chief functions was a well-known and popular
+figure, always among the best and most exclusive set, and always welcome
+there. He had a yacht at Cowes, a share in a Scotch moor, a dozen or so
+hunters at his little place near Melton, a shooting box in Derbyshire,
+and a fine old mansion and estate in Kent, where everyone liked to be
+asked; and where he had more than once had the honor of entertaining
+royalty. There was only one thing in the world wanted to make Sir Allan
+Beaumerville perfect, women declared, and that one thing was a wife. But
+although no one appeared to appreciate more highly the charms of
+feminine society--as he showed in more ways than one, both in St. John's
+Wood and in Belgravia--he had never shown the least inclination to
+perform his duty to society in this respect. How he managed to steer
+clear of the many snares and pitfalls laid for him in the course of his
+career puzzled a good many men. But he did it, and what was more
+remarkable still, he made no enemies. He had friendships among the other
+sex such as no man save he dared have indulged in to a like extent; but
+with infinite skill he always seemed to be able to drop some delicate
+insinuation as to the utter absence of any matrimonial intention on his
+part, which left no room for doubt or hope. He was, in short, possessed
+of admirable powers of diplomacy which never failed him.
+
+Of course his impregnability gave rise to all manner of stories. He had
+been jilted in his youth, he had a wife alive, or he had had one, and
+she was dead, none of which rumors met any large amount of credence. As
+to the first, the idea of anyone jilting Sir Allan Beaumerville, even
+before his coming into the baronetcy, found no favor in the feminine
+world. No woman could have shown such ill judgment as that; and,
+besides, he had very little of the melancholy which is generally
+supposed to attend upon such a disappointment. As to the second, it was
+never seriously entertained, for if any woman had once claimed Sir Allan
+Beaumerville as a husband, she was scarcely likely to keep away from
+him, especially now that he was occupying such a distinguished position.
+The third was quite out of the question, for even had he ever been
+married--which nobody believed--he was scarcely the sort of man to wear
+the willow all his life, and, indeed, it was very evident that he was
+not doing anything of the sort. Everyone knew of a certain little
+establishment beyond Kensington way, where Sir Allan's brougham was
+often seen, but of course no one thought the worse of him for that. And
+without a doubt, if Sir Allan had yielded to that gentle wish so often
+expressed, and commenced domestic life in a more conventional manner in
+the great house at Grosvenor Square, he would have forfeited at once a
+great deal of his popularity, at any rate among the feminine part of his
+acquaintance. As it was, there was always a faint hope of winning him to
+add a zest to his delightful companionship, and Sir Allan, who was a
+very shrewd man, was perfectly aware of this. He was a sybarite of
+refined taste, with an exquisite appreciation of the finer and more
+artistic pleasures of life; and the society of educated and well-bred
+women was one of the chief of them. Rather than run any risk of
+deterioration in its quality he preferred to let things remain as they
+were, and that he might enjoy it the more thoroughly without the
+restraint placed upon other men, was the sole reason that he had not
+altogether abandoned his profession. He never took any fee, nor did he
+ever accept any casual patient. But on certain days of the week, at
+certain hours, he was at home as a physician to certain of his lady
+acquaintances to whom he had already offered his services. The number
+was always few, for the invitations were rarely given, and the patients
+generally remained upon the sick list for an indefinite period. But
+there were few invitations more sought after. Something--perhaps the
+very slight spice of impropriety which certain prudes, who had not been
+asked, affected to see in such an arrangement--had made them the
+fashion; and, then, Sir Allan was undeniably clever. Altogether, the
+idea was a great success for him.
+
+It had been one of Sir Allan's afternoon receptions, and, as usual,
+every patient on his list had paid him a visit. Having seen the last and
+most favored to her carriage, Sir Allan returned to his study with a
+slight smile on his handsome face, and the recollection of some
+delightfully confidential little speeches still tingling in his ears.
+For a moment he stood on the hearth rug recalling them, then he looked
+round the room and rang the bell. A servant appeared almost
+immediately.
+
+"Clear these things away, Morton," Sir Allan said, pointing to some
+dainty marvels of china and a Japanese teapot, which stood on a little
+round table between two chairs, "and bring me a loose jacket from my
+room. I am dining in Downing Street to-night, and shall not want to
+dress before eight."
+
+The man obeyed, and Sir Allan, lighting a thick Egyptian cigarette, took
+up a French novel, and stretched himself out in his easy chair.
+
+"You are not at home to anyone else this afternoon, sir?" the servant
+inquired before quitting the room.
+
+"Certainly not," Sir Allan answered, yawning. "Has anyone been inquiring
+for me?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lady or gentleman?"
+
+"Gentleman, sir--at least, I think so. He looks like one."
+
+"Any name?"
+
+"I didn't inquire, sir. I said that you were not at home; but, as he
+seemed very pressing, I promised to try and ascertain when you would be
+at liberty."
+
+"Ask him his name," Sir Allan directed.
+
+The man withdrew, and returned in a moment or two looking a little
+puzzled.
+
+"His name is Brown, sir--Mr. Bernard Brown."
+
+Sir Allan was seldom clumsy in little things, but at that moment he
+dropped the book which he had been reading upon the floor. The servant
+hastened toward it, but Sir Allan waved him away. He preferred to pick
+it up himself.
+
+"I'm afraid I've lost my place," he remarked, turning over the leaves.
+"You can show Mr. Brown in here, Morton," he added. "I may as well see
+what he wants."
+
+The man withdrew, and Sir Allan recommenced the chapter. Then the door
+was opened again, and the visitor was admitted. Sir Allan laid the paper
+knife carefully in his place, and shutting the book, rose from his
+chair.
+
+"Mr. Brown," he said, "I am very pleased to see you. Come and take a
+seat here."
+
+He stood up in an easy attitude upon the hearthrug, and pointed with a
+smile to the chair which his last visitor had occupied. But he did not
+offer his hand to Mr. Brown, nor did Mr. Brown appear to expect it.
+
+The apartment was in the semi-gloom of twilight, for the silver lamp
+burning on the bracket by Sir Allan's side was covered with a
+rose-colored shade, and threw all its light downward. The art treasures
+with which the room was crowded, and the almost voluptuous grace of its
+adornment and coloring, were more suggested than seen. Mr. Brown, who
+had advanced only a few steps from the closed door, covered his eyes
+with his hand, and looked a little dazed.
+
+"Do you live in darkness?" he said in a low tone. "I want to see your
+face."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders, and turned up the lamp a little higher
+than it was. The faces of the two men were now distinctly visible to
+each other, and the contrast between them was rather startling. Sir
+Allan's was placid, courteous, and inquiring. Mr. Brown's was white
+almost to ghastliness, and his eyes were burning with a strange light.
+
+"I wish you'd sit down, my dear fellow!" Sir Allan remarked in a tone of
+good-natured remonstrance. "It worries me to see you standing there, and
+I'm sure you look tired enough."
+
+Mr. Brown took no notice whatever of the invitation.
+
+"I have come to see you, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said slowly, "to
+lay certain facts before you, and to ask your advice concerning them--as
+a disinterested party."
+
+"Very happy, I'm sure, to do the best I can," Sir Allan murmured,
+lighting a fresh cigarette. "I wish you'd sit down to it, though. I
+suppose it's about that murder we were mixed up in? Horrid affair it
+was."
+
+"Yes, it was a very horrid affair," Mr. Brown repeated slowly.
+
+"They haven't caught the man yet, I suppose?"
+
+"They have not--yet."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his fine shoulders.
+
+"I fancy their chance is a poor one now, then," he remarked, emitting a
+little cloud of smoke from his lips, and watching it curl upward in a
+faint blue wreath to the ceiling. "How differently they manage affairs
+on the Continent! Such a crime would not go undetected a day there."
+
+"It will not be undetected here many more days," Mr. Brown said. "My own
+belief is that a warrant is already issued for the apprehension of the
+supposed murderer, and I should not be surprised to hear that at this
+very moment the police were watching this house."
+
+Sir Allan looked hard at his guest, and elevated his eyebrows.
+
+"This is a very serious matter, Mr. Brown," he said, looking at him
+steadily in the face. "Do I understand----?"
+
+"I will explain," Mr. Brown interrupted quietly. "On my return to
+Falcon's Nest yesterday, I find that during my absence the cottage has
+been entered, apparently by some one in authority, for keys have been
+used. My cabinet has been forced open, and a number of my private
+letters and papers have been taken away. Certain other investigations
+have also been made, obviously with the same object."
+
+Sir Allan maintained his attitude of polite attention, but he had
+stopped smoking, and his cigarette was burning unnoticed between his
+fingers.
+
+"I scarcely see the connection yet," he said suavely. "No doubt I am a
+little dense. You speak about a number of private papers having been
+abstracted from your cabinet. Do I understand--is it possible that
+anything in those papers could lead people to fix upon you as the
+murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"
+
+The two men looked steadily into each other's faces. There was nothing
+in Sir Allan's expression beyond a slightly shocked surprise; in Mr.
+Brown's there was a very curious mixture indeed.
+
+"Most certainly!" was the quiet reply. "Those letters plainly point out
+a motive for my having committed the crime."
+
+"They are from----"
+
+"Stop!"
+
+Sir Allan started. The word had burst from Mr. Brown's lips with a
+passion which his former quietude rendered the more remarkable. There
+was a dead silence between them for fully a minute. Then Mr. Brown,
+having resumed his former manner, spoke again.
+
+"Those letters," he said, "tell the story of a certain episode in the
+life of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. No other person is mentioned or alluded
+to in them. Yet the fact of their having been found in my possession
+makes them strong evidence against me."
+
+Sir Allan nodded.
+
+"I don't know why on earth you've come to me for advice," he remarked.
+"I'm not a lawyer."
+
+"Neither do I quite know. Still, I have come; and, as I am here, give it
+me."
+
+"In a word, then--bolt," said Sir Allan laconically.
+
+"That is your advice, is it?"
+
+"I don't see anything else to do. I don't ask you whether you are guilty
+or not, and I do ask myself whether I am doing my duty in giving you any
+advice calculated to defeat the ends of justice. I simply consider the
+facts, and tell you what I should do if I were in your unfortunate
+position. I should bolt."
+
+"Thank you, Sir Allan, for your advice so far," Mr. Brown said quietly.
+"There is just one little complication, however, which I wish to tell
+you of."
+
+"Yes. Might I trouble you to put the matter in as short a form as
+possible, then?" Sir Allan remarked, looking at his watch. "I am dining
+with the Prime Minister to-night, and it is time I commenced to dress."
+
+"I will not detain you much longer," Mr. Brown said. "The complication,
+I fear, will scarcely interest you, for it is a sentimental one. If I
+fled from England to-night, I should leave behind me the woman I love."
+
+"Then why the devil don't you take her with you?" asked Sir Allan, with
+a shrug of the shoulders. "She'll go right enough if you ask her. Women
+like a little mystery."
+
+"The woman whom I love appears to be of a different class to those from
+whom you have drawn your experience," Mr. Brown answered quietly. "I am
+not married to her."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders lightly.
+
+"Well, if she's a prude, and won't go, and you haven't pluck enough to
+run away with her, I don't know how to advise you," he remarked.
+
+Mr. Brown looked steadily into the other's face. Sir Allan met his gaze
+blandly.
+
+"Your speech, Sir Allan, betrays a cynicism which I believe is greatly
+in fashion just now," Mr. Brown said slowly. "Sometimes it is altogether
+assumed, sometimes it is only a thin veneer adopted in obedience to the
+decree of fashion. Believing that, so far as you are concerned, the
+latter is the case, I beg you to look back into your past life, and
+recall, if possible, some of its emotions. Again I tell you that if I
+fly from England, I shall leave behind me the woman I dearly love. I
+have come to you, Sir Allan Beaumerville, with an effort. I lay all
+these facts before you, and I ask you to decide for me. What shall I
+do?"
+
+"And I repeat, my dear fellow," answered Sir Allan suavely, "that the
+only advice I can give you is, to leave England to-night!"
+
+Mr. Brown hesitated for a moment. Then he turned away toward the door
+without a word or gesture of farewell.
+
+"By the by," Sir Allan remarked, "one moment, Mr. Brown! Have you any
+objection to telling me the name of the lady who has been honored with
+your affection. Do I know her?"
+
+"You do. Her name is no concern of yours, though."
+
+Suddenly an unpleasant idea seemed to flash across Sir Allan's mind. He
+was more disturbed than he had been during the whole of the interview.
+
+"Of course you don't mean that charming Miss Thurwell?" he said quickly.
+
+The limits of Mr. Brown's endurance seemed to have been passed. He
+turned suddenly round, his eyes blazing with passion, and walked across
+the room to within a few feet of Sir Allan. He stood there with one hand
+grasping the back of a chair, and looked at him.
+
+"And if I did mean her, sir, what is that to you? By what right do you
+dare to----"
+
+Suddenly his upraised hand fell. Both men stood as though turned to
+stone, listening, yet scarcely daring to glance toward the door. It was
+the sound of Morton's quiet voice and the trailing of skirts which had
+checked Mr. Brown's passionate speech.
+
+"Lady and Miss Thurwell!"
+
+There was no time to move, scarcely time for thought. Morton stood
+respectfully at the door, and the two ladies were already on the
+threshold.
+
+"My dear Sir Allan"--in Lady Thurwell's silvery voice--"what will you
+think of such a late visit? I felt ashamed to ask for you, only we have
+been at the Countess of Applecorn's in the next square, and I could
+positively not pass your door when I remembered that it was your
+afternoon. But you are all in darkness; and you have a visitor, haven't
+you?"
+
+The figures of the two men were barely visible in the deep gloom of the
+apartment, for the lamp had burned low, and gave little light. Lady
+Thurwell had stopped just inside the room, surprised.
+
+If only Sir Allan's companion had been a patient! What a delightful
+piece of scandal it would have been!
+
+"Lady Thurwell! Ah, how good of you!" exclaimed Sir Allan, coming
+forward out of the shadow; "and you, too, Miss Helen. I am honored
+indeed. Morton, lights at once!"
+
+"We must not stay a moment," declared Lady Thurwell, shaking hands.
+"No, we won't sit down, thanks! You know why we've called? It's about
+the opera to-night. You got my note?"
+
+"I did, Lady Thurwell, and I can trustfully say that I never read one
+from you with more regret."
+
+"Then you have an engagement?"
+
+"Unfortunately, yes! I am dining at Downing Street."
+
+"Well, we must send for that schoolboy cousin of yours, Helen!" said
+Lady Thurwell, laughing. "You see how dependent we are upon your sex,
+after all. Why, is that really you, Mr. Maddison!" she broke off
+suddenly, as a tall figure emerged a little out of the gloom. "Fancy
+meeting you here! I had no idea that you and Sir Allan Beaumerville were
+friends. Helen, do you see Mr. Maddison?"
+
+"I can't say that I do," she answered, with a low happy laugh; "but I'm
+very glad he's here!"
+
+The lights were brought in as she finished her little speech, and they
+all looked at one another. Lady Thurwell broke into a little laugh.
+
+"Really, this is a singular meeting," she said, "but we mustn't stop a
+moment. Mr. Maddison, we were hoping to see you yesterday afternoon. Do
+come soon!"
+
+He bowed with a faint smile upon his lips.
+
+"Come out to the carriage with us, please, Mr. Maddison," Helen said to
+him in a low tone as Lady Thurwell turned to go; and he walked down the
+hall between them and out on to the pavement, leaving Sir Allan on the
+steps.
+
+"You will come and dine with me soon, won't you, Mr. Maddison?" Lady
+Thurwell asked him, as she touched his hand stepping into the brougham.
+
+"I will come whenever you ask me!" he answered rashly.
+
+"Then come now!" said Helen quickly. "We are all alone for the evening,
+fancy that, and we can't go out anywhere because we haven't an escort.
+Do come!"
+
+He looked at Lady Thurwell.
+
+"It will be a real charity if you will," she said, smiling graciously.
+"We shall be bored to death alone."
+
+"I shall be delighted," he answered at once. "About eight o'clock, I
+suppose?"
+
+"Half-past seven, please, and we'll have a long evening," said Helen.
+"That will give you time to get to your club and dress. Good-by!"
+
+They drove off, and Mr. Bernard Brown walked swiftly away toward Pall
+Mall. Once he stopped in the middle of the pavement and broke into an
+odd little laugh. It was a curious position to be in. He was expecting
+every moment to be arrested for murder, and he was going out to dine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+"GOD FORBID IT!"
+
+
+Mr. Maddison--to drop at this point the name under which he had chosen
+to become the tenant of Falcon's Nest--was a member of a well-known
+London club, chiefly affected by literary men, and after his acceptance
+of Lady Thurwell's invitation, he hastened there at once and went to his
+room to dress. As a rule a man does not indulge in any very profound
+meditation during the somewhat tedious process of changing his morning
+clothes for the monotonous garb of Western civilization. His attention
+is generally fully claimed by the satisfactory adjusting of his tie and
+the precaution he has to use to avoid anything so lamentable as a crease
+in his shirt, and if his thoughts stray at all, it is seldom beyond the
+immediate matter of his toilet, or at most a little anticipation with
+regard to the forthcoming evening. If on the right side of thirty, a
+pair of bright eyes may sometimes make him pause for a moment, even with
+the hair brushes in his hands, to wonder if she will be there to-night,
+and if by any fortunate chance he will be able to take her in to dinner.
+And if the reign of the forties has commenced, it is just possible that
+a little mild speculation as to the _entrees_ may be admitted. But, as a
+rule, a man's thoughts do not on such an occasion strike deep beneath
+the surface, and there is no record of an author having laid the plan of
+his next work, or a soldier having marked out a campaign, while
+struggling with a refractory tie, or obstinate parting. Even if such had
+ever happened to be the case, we should not have cared to hear about it.
+We prefer to think of a Napoleon planning great conquests in the serene
+stillness of night among a sleeping camp and beneath a starlit sky, or
+of a Wordsworth writing his poetry in his cottage home among the
+mountains.
+
+But Mr. Bernard Maddison, before he left his room that evening, had come
+to a great decision--a decision which made his step the firmer, and
+which asserted itself in the carriage of his head and the increased
+brightness of his eyes, as he slowly descended the wide, luxurious
+staircase. And he felt calmer, even happier, from having at least passed
+from amid the shoals of doubt and uncertainty. The slight nervousness
+had quite left him. He was still more than ordinarily pale, and there
+was a look of calm resignation in his thoughtful aesthetic face which
+gave to its intellectuality a touch of spirituality. One of the members
+of the club said, later on in the smoking room, that Maddison seemed to
+him to realize one's idea of St. Augustine in evening clothes. So far as
+appearance went the comparison was not inapt.
+
+As he reached the hall the porter came up to him with his cloak.
+
+"There is a gentleman waiting for you in the strangers' room, sir," he
+said.
+
+Mr. Maddison turned away that the man might not see the sudden dread in
+his face. It was not a long respite he craved for--only one evening. Was
+even this to be denied him?
+
+"Any name?" he asked quietly.
+
+"He gave none," the man answered; "but I think it is Sir Allan
+Beaumerville."
+
+"Ah!" Mr. Maddison felt a sudden relief which escaped him in that brief
+interjection. He was scarcely surprised at this visit. "I will go to
+him," he said. "Call me a hansom, Grey, will you?"
+
+The porter went outside, and Mr. Maddison crossed the hall and in a
+small, dimly-lit room, found himself face to face with his visitor.
+
+Sir Allan wore the brilliant uniform of a colonel in the yeomanry, for
+the dinner to which he was going was to be followed by an official
+reception. But he was very pale, and his manner had lost much of its
+studied nonchalance.
+
+"I followed you here," he began at once, "because, after your departure,
+I began to realize more fully the seriousness of what you told me."
+
+"Yes. I thought at the time that your indifference was a little
+remarkable," Mr. Maddison said quietly. The positions between them were
+entirely reversed. It was Sir Allan Beaumerville now who was placing a
+great restraint upon himself, and Mr. Maddison who was collected and at
+his ease.
+
+"I was taken by surprise," Sir Allan continued. "Since you left me I
+have been picturing all manner of horrible things. Have you fully
+realized that you may be arrested at any moment on this frightful
+charge?"
+
+"I have fully realized it," Mr. Maddison answered calmly. "In fact, when
+the porter told me that a gentleman wished to see me, I imagined at once
+that it had come."
+
+"And have you considered, too," Sir Allan continued, "how overwhelming
+the evidence is against you?"
+
+"I have considered it."
+
+"Then why do you linger here for one moment? Why don't you escape while
+you have the chance?"
+
+"Why should I?" Mr. Maddison answered. "I shall make no attempt to
+escape."
+
+Sir Allan's face grew a shade more pallid, and betrayed an agitation
+which he strove in vain to conceal.
+
+"But supposing you are arrested," he said quickly, "everything will go
+against you. What shall you do?"
+
+"I shall accept my fate, whatever it may be," was the quiet reply. "I
+prefer this to flight. Life would not be very valuable to me as a
+skulking criminal in a foreign country. If it be declared forfeit to the
+law, the law shall have it."
+
+There was a sudden choking in Sir Allan's voice, and an almost piteous
+look in his face.
+
+"God forbid it!" he cried; "God forbid it!"
+
+And suddenly this hardened man of the world, this professed cynic in an
+age of cynicism, sank down in a chair and buried his head in his arms on
+the green baize writing table, crushing the gold lace of his glittering
+uniform, and the immaculate shirt front, with its single diamond stud.
+It was only for a moment that a sudden rush of feeling overcame him. But
+when he looked up his face was haggard and he looked years older.
+
+"Does anyone--know of this?" he asked in a hoarse tone.
+
+Mr. Maddison shook his head.
+
+"No one whatever as yet," he said shortly. "If I am free to-morrow, I
+shall go to Italy."
+
+A sudden change swept into Sir Allan's face. He rose from his chair,
+drawing himself up to his full height. Again he was the stately,
+distinguished man of the world, with little feeling in his voice or
+looks. Between him and this other man in his sober black, with wasted
+face and thin stooping frame, there was a startling difference.
+
+"I have no doubt that you will do your duty, Mr. Maddison," he said
+coldly; "although, if I may be forgiven for saying so, your method
+appears to me a little quixotic, and, in a certain sense, singularly
+devoid of consideration for others. I will not detain you any longer."
+
+He wrapped his long cloak around him and left the room in dignified
+silence. Mr. Maddison followed him to the steps, and saw him get into
+his carriage. They parted without another word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+LOVERS
+
+
+Bernard Maddison kept his engagement that evening, and dined alone with
+Lady Thurwell and Helen. There had been some talk of going to the opera
+afterwards, but no one seemed to care about it, and so it dropped
+through.
+
+"For my part," Lady Thurwell said, as they sat lingering over their
+dessert, "I shall quite enjoy an evening's rest. You literary men, Mr.
+Maddison, talk a good deal about being overworked, but you know nothing
+of the life of a chaperon in the season. I tell Helen that she is sadly
+wanting in gratitude. We do everything worth doing--picture galleries,
+matinees, shopping, afternoon calls, dinners, dances, receptions--why,
+there's no slavery like it."
+
+Helen laughed softly.
+
+"We do a great deal too much, aunt," she said. "I am almost coming round
+to my father's opinion. You know, Mr. Maddison, he very seldom comes to
+London, and then only when he wants to pay a visit to his gunmaker, or
+to renew his hunting kit, or something of that sort. London life does
+not suit him at all."
+
+"I think your father a very wise man," he answered. "He seeks his
+pleasures in a more wholesome manner."
+
+She looked thoughtful.
+
+"Yes, I suppose, ethically, the life of a man about town is on a very
+low level. That is why one meets so few who interest one, as a rule.
+Don't you think all this society life very frivolous, Mr. Maddison?"
+
+"I am not willing to be its judge," he answered. "Yet it is a moral
+axiom that the higher we seek for our pleasures the greater happiness we
+attain to. I am an uncompromising enemy to what is known as fashionable
+society, so I will draw no conclusions."
+
+"It is intellect and artistic sensibility _versus_ sensuousness," yawned
+Lady Thurwell. "I'm a weak woman, and I'm afraid I'm too old to change
+my ways. But I'm on the wrong side of the argument all the same; at
+least, I should be if I took up the cudgels."
+
+"Which are the greater sinners, Mr. Maddison?" asked Helen, smiling,
+"men of the world or women of the world?"
+
+"Without doubt, men," he answered quickly. "However we may talk about
+the equality of the sexes, the fact remains that women are born into the
+world with lighter natures than men. They have at once a greater
+capacity, and more desire for amusement pure and simple. They wear
+themselves out in search of it, more especially the women of other
+nations. And after all, when their life has passed, they have never
+known the meaning of real happiness, of the pleasures that have no
+reaction, and that sweet elevation of mind that is only won by thought
+and study."
+
+"Poor women!" murmured Lady Thurwell. "Mr. Maddison, you are making me
+quite uncomfortable. Paint my sex in more glowing colors, please, or
+leave them alone. Remember that I am the only middle-aged woman here. I
+don't count Helen at all. I see that she is something of your way of
+thinking already. Traitress! Do light a cigarette, Mr. Maddison. I adore
+the perfume of them, and so does Helen."
+
+He took one from the box she passed him, and gravely lit it. They were
+doing everything in a very informal manner. Dinner had been served in
+the library, a cozy little apartment with a large open grate in which a
+cheerful fire had been lit. The ordinary table had been dispensed with
+in favor of a small round one just large enough for them, and now, with
+dessert on the table, they had turned their chairs round to the fire in
+very homelike fashion.
+
+"Do you know, I like this," Helen said softly. "I think it is so much
+better than a dinner party, or going out anywhere."
+
+"See what a difference the presence of a distinguished man of letters
+makes," laughed Lady Thurwell. "Now, only a few hours ago, we were
+dreading a very dull evening--Helen as well as myself. How nice it was
+of you to take pity on us, Mr. Maddison!"
+
+"Especially considering your aversion to our society," put in Helen.
+"Are not you really thinking it a shocking waste of time to be here
+talking to two very unlearned women instead of seeking inspiration in
+your study?"
+
+He looked at her reproachfully.
+
+"I know nothing of Lady Thurwell's tastes," he said; "but you can
+scarcely call yourself unlearned. You have read much, and you have
+thought."
+
+"A pure accident--I mean the thinking," she answered lightly. "If I had
+not been a country girl, with a mind above my station, intellectually,
+there's no telling what might have happened. Town life is very
+distracting, if you once get into the groove. Isn't it, aunt?"
+
+Lady Thurwell, who was a thorough little _dame de societe_, rose with a
+pout and shrugged her shoulders.
+
+"I'm not going to be hauled over the coals by you superior people any
+longer," she answered. "I shall leave you to form a mutual improvement
+society, and go and write some letters. When you want me, come into the
+drawing room, but don't come yet. Thank you, Mr. Maddison," she added,
+as he held the door open for her; "be merciful to the absent, won't
+you?"
+
+And so they were alone! As he closed the door and walked across the room
+to his seat, there came back to him, with a faint bewildering sweetness,
+something of the passionate emotion of their farewell in the pine grove
+on the cliff. He felt his pulses quicken, and his heart beat fast. It
+was in vain that the dying tenets of his old life, a life of
+renunciation and solitude, feebly reasserted themselves. At that moment,
+if never before, he knew the truth. The warm fresh sunlight lay across
+his barren life, brightening with a marvelous glow its gloomiest
+corners. The old passionless serenity, in which the human had been
+crushed out by the intellectual, was gone forever. He loved this woman.
+
+And she was very fair. He stole a long glance at her as she leaned back
+in her low wicker chair--the fond glance of a lover--and he felt his
+keenly artistic sense stirred from its very depths by her purely
+physical beauty. The firelight was casting strange gleams upon the deep
+golden hair which waved about her oval face and shapely forehead in
+picturesque unrestraint, and there was an ethereal glow in her exquisite
+complexion, a light in her eyes, which seemed called up by some unusual
+excitement.
+
+The setting of the picture, too, was perfect. Her ivory satin gown hung
+in long straight lines about her slim perfect outline with all the grace
+of Greek drapery, unrelieved save by one large bunch of Neapolitan
+violets nestling amongst the folds of old lace which filled up the open
+space of her bodice. He stood and looked at her with a strange confusion
+of feelings. A new life was burning in his veins, and for the first time
+since his boyhood he doubted his absolute self-mastery. Dared he stay
+there? Could he sit by her side, and bandy idle words with her?
+
+The silence had lasted for several minutes, and was beginning to possess
+something of that peculiar eloquence which such silences usually have.
+At last she raised her eyes, and looked at him standing motionless and
+thoughtful amongst the shadows of the room, and at the first glance he
+felt his strength grow weak, and his passionate love rising up like a
+living force. For there was in her eyes, and in her face, and in her
+voice when she spoke, something of that softening change which
+transfuses a woman's being when she loves, and lets the secret go from
+her--a sort of mute yielding, an abandonment, having in it a subtle
+essence of unconscious invitation.
+
+"Come and talk to me," she said softly. "Why do you stand out there?"
+
+He made one last despairing effort. With a strangely unnatural laugh, he
+drew a chair to her side and began to talk rapidly, never once letting
+his eyes rest upon her loveliness, striving to keep his thoughts fixed
+upon his subject, but all the time acutely conscious of her presence. He
+talked of many things with a restless energy which more than once caused
+her to look up at him in wonderment. He strove even to keep her from
+answering him, lest the magic of her voice should turn the trembling
+scale. For her sake he unlocked the inmost recesses of his mind, and all
+the rich store of artistic sensations, of jealously preserved memories,
+came flooding out, clothed with all that eloquence of jeweled phrase and
+daintily turned sentence which had made his writings so famous. For her
+sake, too, he sent his imagination traveling through almost untrodden
+fields, bringing back exquisite word pictures, and lifting the curtain
+before many a landscape of sun-smitten thought. All the music of sweet
+imagery and pure bracing idealism thrilled through her whole being. This
+was indeed a man to love! And as his speech grew slower, and she heard
+again that peculiar trembling in his tone, the meaning of which her
+woman's heart so easily interpreted, she began to long for those few
+words from him which she felt would be the awakening of a new life in
+her. He could not fail to notice even that slight change, and wondering
+whether her attention was commencing to flag, he paused and their eyes
+met in a gaze full of that deep tragical intensity which marks the birth
+between man and woman of any new sensation. The fire which glowed in his
+eyes told her of his love as plainly as the dreamy yet expressive light
+which gleamed in hers spoke also to him, and when her head drooped
+before the gathering passion in his face, and the faint color streamed
+into her cheeks, no will of his could keep the words back any longer. He
+felt his breath come quickly, and his heart almost stop beating. His
+pulses were quickening, and a strange new delight stole through him.
+Surely this was the end. He could bear no more.
+
+And it seemed as though it were indeed so, for with a sudden impulse he
+caught hold of her white, ringless hand, and drew it gently toward him.
+There was a slight instinctive resistance which came and went in a
+space of time only a thought could measure. Then she yielded it to him,
+and the sense of her touch stole through his veins with a sort of dreamy
+fascination, to give place in a moment to the overmastering fire of his
+great passion.
+
+Her face was turned away from him, but he saw the faint color deepen in
+her cheeks and the light quivering of the lip. And then a torrent of
+feeling, before which his last shaking barriers of resistance crumbled
+away like dust, swept from his heart, striking every chord of his nature
+with a crash of wild music.
+
+"Helen, my love, my love!" he cried.
+
+And she turned round, her eyes dim with trembling tears, yet glowing
+with a great happiness--turned around to feel his arms steal around her
+and hold her clasped to his heart in a mad sweet embrace. And it seemed
+to her that it was for this that she had lived.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+A WOMAN'S LOVE
+
+
+It seemed to him in those few golden moments of his life that memory
+died away and time stood still. The past with its hideous sorrows, and
+the future over which it stretched its chilling hand, were merged in the
+present. Life had neither background nor prospect. The overpowering
+realization of the elysium into which he had stepped had absorbed all
+sense and all knowledge. They were together, and words were passing
+between them which would live to eternity in his heart.
+
+But the fairest summer sky will not be fair forever. Clouds will gather,
+and drive before them the sweetness and joy from the smiling heavens,
+and memory is a mistress who may slumber but who never sleeps. Those
+moments of entrancing happiness, although in one sense they lasted a
+lifetime, were in the ordinary measure of time but of brief duration.
+For with something of the overmastering suddenness with which his
+passion had found expression, there swept back into his heart all the
+still cold flow of icy reminiscence. She felt his arms loosen around
+her, and she raised her head, wondering, from his shoulder, wonder that
+turned soon to fear, for he rose up and stood before her white, and with
+a great agony in his dark eyes.
+
+"I have been mad!" he muttered hoarsely. "Forgive me! I must go!"
+
+She stood up by his side, pale, but with no fear or weakness in her
+look. She, too, had begun to realize.
+
+"Tell me one thing," she said softly. "You do--love me!"
+
+"God knows I do!" he answered. The words came from his heart with a
+nervous intensity which showed itself in his quivering lips, and the
+vibration of his tone. She knew their truth as surely as though she had
+seen them written in letters of fire, and that knowledge, or rather her
+absolute confidence in it, made her in a measure bold. The dainty
+exclusiveness which had half repelled, half attracted other men had
+fallen away from her. She stood before him a loving tearful woman, with
+something of that gentle shame which is twin sister to modesty burning
+in her cheeks.
+
+"Then I will not let you go," she said softly, taking both his hands in
+hers, and holding him tightly. "Nothing shall come between us."
+
+He looked into the love light which gleamed in her wet eyes, and
+stooping down he took her again into his arms and kissed her.
+
+"My darling!" he whispered passionately, "my darling! But you do not
+know."
+
+"Yes, I do," she answered, drawing him gently back to their old place.
+"You mean about what Rachel Kynaston said that awful night, don't you?"
+
+"More than that, alas!" he answered in a low tone. "Other people besides
+Rachel Kynaston have had suspicions about me. I have been watched, and
+while I was away, Falcon's Nest has been entered, and papers have been
+taken away."
+
+She was white with fear. This was Benjamin Levy's doing, and it was
+through her. Ought she to tell him? She could not! She could not!
+
+"But they do not--the papers, I mean--make it appear that----"
+
+"Helen," he interrupted, with his face turned away from her, "it is best
+that you should know the truth. Those papers reveal the story of a
+bitter enmity between myself and Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. When you
+consider that and the other things, you will see that I may at any
+moment be arrested."
+
+A spasm of pain passed across her face. At that moment her thoughts were
+only concerned with his safety. The terrible suggestiveness of what he
+had told her had very little real meaning for her then. Her one thought
+was, could she buy those papers? If all her fortune could do it, it
+should be given. Only let him never know, and let him be safe!
+
+"Bernard," she whispered softly, "I am not afraid. It is very terrible,
+but it cannot alter anything. Love cannot come and go at our bidding. It
+is forever. Nothing can change that."
+
+He stopped her lips with passionate kisses, and then he tried to tear
+himself away. But she would not let him go. A touch of that complete
+self-surrender which comes even to the proudest woman when she loves had
+made her bold.
+
+"Have I not told you, Bernard," she whispered, "that I will not let you
+go?"
+
+"Helen, you must," he said hoarsely. "Who knows but that to-morrow I may
+stand in the dock, charged with that hideous crime?"
+
+"If they will let me, I shall gladly stand by your side," she answered.
+
+He turned away, and his shaking fingers hid his face from her.
+
+"Oh, this is too much for a man to bear!" he moaned. "Helen, Helen,
+there must be nothing of this between you and me."
+
+"Nothing between you and me!" she repeated with a ring of gentle scorn
+in her voice. "Bernard, do you know so little of women, after all? Do
+you think that they can play at love in this give-and-take fashion?"
+
+He did not answer. She stood up and passed one of her arms around his
+neck, and with the other hand gently disengaged his fingers from before
+his face.
+
+"Bernard, dearest, look at me. All things can be changed by fashion or
+expediency save a woman's love, and that is eternal. Don't think,
+please, of any of these terrible things that may be in store for us, or
+what other people would think or say. I want you to remember that love,
+even though it be personal love, is far above all circumstance. No power
+in this world can alter or change it. It belongs to that better part of
+ourselves which lifts us above all misfortune and trouble. You have
+given me a great happiness, Bernard, and you shall not take it away from
+me. Whatever happens to you, it is my right to share it. Remember, for
+the future, it is 'we,' not 'I.' You must not think of yourself alone in
+anything, for I belong now to everything that concerns you."
+
+And so it was that for the first time in his life Bernard Maddison, who
+had written much concerning them, much that was both faithful and
+beautiful, saw into the inner life of a true woman. Only for the man
+whom she loves will she thus lift the curtain from before that sweet
+depth of unselfishness which makes even the homeliest of her sex one of
+the most beautiful of God's creations; and he, if he be in any way a man
+of human sensibility and capacity, must feel something of that wondering
+awe, that reverence with which Bernard Maddison drank in the meaning of
+her words. The mute anxiety of her tearful gaze, the color which came
+and fled from her face--he understood all these signs. They were to him
+the physical, the material covering for her appeal. A life of grand
+thoughts, of ever-climbing ideas, of pure and lofty aims, had revealed
+to him nothing so noble and yet so sweetly human as this; had filled his
+being with no such heart-shattering emotion as swept through him at that
+moment. A woman's hand had lifted him out from his despair into a higher
+state, and there was a great humility in the silent gesture with which
+he yielded his will to hers.
+
+And then again there were spoken words between them which no chronicles
+should report, and a certain calm happiness took up its settled place in
+his heart, defiant of that despair which could not be driven out. Then
+came that reawakening to mundane things which seems like a very great
+step indeed in such cases. She looked at the clock, and gave a little
+start.
+
+"Bernard, it is nearly eleven o'clock," she cried. "We must go into the
+drawing-room at once. What will aunt think of us? You must come with me,
+of course; but you'd better say good night now. There, that will do,
+sir!"
+
+She drew away and smoothed her ruffled hair back from her forehead,
+looking ruefully in the glass at her tear-stained cheeks, and down at
+the crushed violets in her corsage.
+
+"May I have them?" he asked.
+
+She drew them out and placed them in his hand.
+
+"To-morrow----" she said.
+
+"To-morrow I must go into the land of violets," he interrupted.
+
+She turned round quickly.
+
+"What do you mean? You are not going away without my permission, sir?"
+
+"Then I must seek it," he answered, smiling. "You have given life such
+an exquisite sweetness for me, that I am making plans already to
+preserve it. My one hope lies in Italy."
+
+"How long should you be away?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Not a week," he answered. "If I am permitted to leave England, which I
+fear is doubtful, to-morrow, I can be back perhaps in five days."
+
+"Then you may go, Bernard," she whispered. "Take this with you, and
+think of me sometimes."
+
+She had drawn out a photograph of herself from a folding case on the
+mantelpiece, and he took it from her eagerly.
+
+"Nothing in the world could be so precious to me," he said.
+
+"For a novice you say some very nice things," she answered, laughing
+softly. "And now you must go, sir. No, you needn't come into the
+drawing-room; I really couldn't show myself with you. I'll make your
+excuses to my aunt. Farewell--love!"
+
+"Farewell--sweetheart!" he answered, hesitating for a moment over the
+words which seemed so strange to him. Then, as though loth to leave him,
+she walked down the hall by his side, and they looked out for a moment
+into the square. A footman was standing prepared to open the door, but
+Helen sent him away with a message to her maid.
+
+"Do you know why I did that?" she asked, her clasp tightening upon his
+arm.
+
+He shook his head, and looked down at her fondly.
+
+"I can't imagine, unless----"
+
+She glanced half fearfully behind and then up into his face again, with
+a faint blush stealing into her cheeks.
+
+"I want one more kiss, please."
+
+He looked into her soft trustful face, and he felt, with a sense almost
+of awe, the preciousness of such a love as this, a love which,
+comprehending the terrible period of anxiety through which he had to
+pass, was not ashamed to seek to sweeten it for him by the simple charm
+of such an offering. Then, at the sound of returning footsteps in the
+hall, he let go her hands, and with her fond farewell still lingering in
+his ears, he hurried out into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR. LEVY, JUNIOR, GOES ON THE CONTINENT
+
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy was standing in his favorite position before the
+office fireplace, with his legs a little apart, and his small keen eyes
+fixed upon vacancy. It was thus, in that very pose, and on that very
+hearthrug, that he had thought out more than one of those deep-laid
+schemes which had brought a certain measure of notoriety to the firm of
+which he was a shining light, and at that very moment he was engaged in
+deep consideration concerning the case in which his energies were at
+present absorbed.
+
+A few feet away, his father was carefully calculating, with the aid of a
+ready reckoner, the compound interest on a little pile of bills of
+exchange which lay before him. Every now and then he paused, and,
+looking up from his task, glanced cautiously into his son's perplexed
+face. Curiosity at length culminated in speech.
+
+"What was you thinking, Benjamin, my son?" he said softly. "The Miss
+Thurwell case is plain before us, is it not? There is nothing fresh, is
+there? No fresh business, eh, my son?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin started, and abandoned his reflections.
+
+"No; nothing fresh, dad. It was the Thurwell affair I was thinking of.
+Give me the keys, will you?"
+
+Mr. Levy leaned back in his chair and produced from his trousers pocket
+a jingling bunch of keys.
+
+Mr. Benjamin took them in thoughtful silence, and, opening the safe,
+drew out a packet of faded letters tied up with ribbon. From these he
+selected one, and carefully replaced the rest.
+
+"Those letters again," remarked his fond parent, chuckling. "Take care
+of them, Benjamin, take care of them. They was worth their weight in
+gold to us."
+
+"They're worth a great deal more than that," remarked Mr. Benjamin
+carelessly. "There's only one thing, dad, that puzzles me a bit."
+
+"It must be a rum thing, my boy, that does that," his fond parent
+remarked admiringly. "I never praise undeservedly, but I must say this,
+Benjamin, you've managed this Thurwell affair marvelously--marvelously!
+Come, let me see what it is that is too deep for you."
+
+He rose and looked over his son's shoulder at the letter which he was
+reading--one thin sheet of foreign note paper, covered with closely
+written lines of faint, angular writing, and emitting even now a
+delicate musky scent.
+
+"What is it, Benjamin--what is it?"
+
+His son laid his finger on a sentence toward the close of the letter,
+and read it aloud:--
+
+     "What that fear has been to me, and what it has grown into during my
+     sad lonely life, I cannot hope to make you understand. Always those
+     terrible words of vengeance ring in my ears as I heard them last.
+     They seem to roll over sea and land, and in the middle of the night,
+     and out in the sunlit street, I seem to hear them still. It is not
+     you I fear, Bernard, so much as him!"
+
+Mr. Levy listened, and nodded approvingly.
+
+"All is plain there, Benjamin, I think. The meaning is quite clear."
+
+Mr. Benjamin laid his finger upon the last sentence.
+
+"What do you make of that, dad?" he asked.
+
+Mr. Levy adjusted his spectacles and read it slowly.
+
+"'It is not for you I fear, Bernard, so much as him.' Tut, tut, that's
+simple enough," he declared. "This woman, whoever she may be, is afraid
+of a meeting between Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and Mr. Bernard Maddison, to
+give him his right name, and she remarks that it is for him she fears,
+and not for Sir Geoffrey. Quite right, too, considering the affectionate
+tone of these letters."
+
+"Yes, I suppose that's it," Mr. Benjamin remarked in an absent tone,
+folding up the letter, and putting it back amongst the rest.
+
+Mr. Levy watched him narrowly, and returned to his desk with a sense of
+injury. His son--his Benjamin--had discovered something which he was not
+going to confide to the parental ear. It was a blow.
+
+He was wondering whether it might have the desired effect if he were to
+produce a scrap of old yellow pocket handkerchief, and affect to be
+overcome, when they heard a hurried footstep outside. Both looked up
+anxiously. There was a quick knocking at the door, and a shabby-looking
+man dressed in black entered.
+
+"Well, Leekson, what news?" Mr. Benjamin asked quickly.
+
+"He's off," was the prompt reply. "Continent. Afternoon train. Waterloo,
+three o'clock."
+
+Mr. Benjamin's eyes sparkled.
+
+"I knew it!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "Job's over, Leekson. Get me a
+cab, and go to the office for your money."
+
+"You're going to let him go!" cried Mr. Levy piteously.
+
+"Not I. I'm going with him, dad. A fifty-pound note from the safe,
+quick."
+
+Mr. Levy gave it to him with trembling fingers.
+
+"Now, dad, listen to me," Benjamin said earnestly, reaching down his
+overcoat from the peg. "Miss Thurwell will be here some time to-day, I'm
+certain, to try and buy those letters. I've changed my mind about them.
+Sell."
+
+"Sell," repeated Mr. Levy, surprised. "I thought that that was what we
+were not to do."
+
+"Never mind, never mind. I'm playing a better game than that now,"
+continued Mr. Benjamin. "I'll leave it to you to make the bargain.
+There's no one can beat you at that, you know, dad."
+
+Mr. Levy acknowledged his son's compliment with a gratified smile.
+
+"Well, well, Benjamin, we'll say nothing about that. I'll do my best,
+you may be sure," he declared fervently.
+
+"I may as well just mention that I have ascertained how much money she
+has got," Mr. Benjamin went on. "She's worth, until her father dies,
+about fifteen thousand pounds. We won't be hard on her. Suppose we say
+five thousand the lowest, eh?"
+
+"All right, Benjamin, all right," the old man murmured, rubbing his
+hands softly together. "Five thousand pounds! My eye! And how long shall
+you be away?"
+
+"I can't quite tell, dad. Just keep your pecker up, and stick to the
+biz."
+
+"Yes, Ben, yes. And of course you can't stop to tell me about it now,
+but won't this five thousand pounds from the young lady about put an end
+to this little game, eh? And, if so, need you go following this Mr.
+Maddison all over the country, eh? An expensive journey, Ben. You've got
+that fifty-pound note, you know."
+
+Mr. Benjamin laughed contemptuously.
+
+"You'll never make a pile, you won't, dad," he exclaimed. "You're so
+plaguedly narrow minded. Listen here," he added, drawing a little closer
+to him, and looking round over his shoulder to be sure that no one was
+listening to him. "When I come back, I'll make you open your eyes. You
+think this thing played out, do you? Bah! The letters aren't worth
+twopence to us. When I come back from abroad, I'm going to commence to
+play this game in a manner that'll rather astonish you, and a certain
+other person. Ta-ta, guv'nor."
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy was a smart young man, but he had a narrow escape that
+afternoon, for as he was sauntering up and down the platform at
+Waterloo, whom should he see within a dozen yards of him but Mr.
+Maddison and Miss Thurwell. He had just time to jump into a third-class
+carriage, and spread a paper out before his face, before they were upon
+him.
+
+"Jove, that was a shave!" he muttered to himself. "Blest if I thought
+they were as thick as that. I wonder if she's going with him. No,
+there's no female luggage, and that's her maid hanging about behind
+there. Moses, ain't she a slap-up girl, and ain't they just spooney!
+D--d if he ain't kissed her!" he wound up as the train glided out of the
+station, leaving Helen Thurwell on the platform waving her handkerchief.
+"Well, we're off. So far, so good. I feel like winning."
+
+But, unfortunately for Mr. Benjamin, there was a third person in that
+train whom neither he nor Mr. Maddison knew of, who was very much
+interested in the latter. Had he only mentioned his name, or referred in
+the slightest possible way to his business abroad before Mr. Benjamin,
+that young gentleman would have promptly abandoned his expedition and
+returned to town. But, as he did not, all three traveled on together in
+a happy state of ignorance concerning each other; and Mr. Benjamin Levy
+was very near experiencing the greatest disappointment of his life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+HELEN DECIDES TO GO HOME
+
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy's surmise had been an accurate one. Late in the
+afternoon of that day, Helen Thurwell called at the little office off
+the Strand, and when she left it an hour later, she had in her pocket a
+packet of letters, and Mr. Levy had in his safe a check and promissory
+note for five thousand pounds. Both were very well satisfied--Mr. Levy
+with his money, and Helen with the consciousness that she had saved her
+lover from the consequences of what she now regarded as her great folly.
+
+She was to have dined out that evening with her aunt, but when the time
+to dress came, she pleaded a violent headache, and persuaded Lady
+Thurwell, who was a good-natured little woman, to take an excuse.
+
+"But, my dear Helen, you don't look one bit ill," she had ventured to
+protest, "and the Cullhamptons are such nice people. Are you sure that
+you won't come?"
+
+"If you please, aunt," she had begged, "I really do want to stay at home
+this evening;" and Lady Thurwell had not been able to withstand her
+niece's imploring tone, so she had gone alone.
+
+Helen spent the evening as she had planned to. She took her work down
+into the room where they had been the night before, and where this
+wonderful thing had happened to her. Then she leaned back in her low
+chair--the same chair--and gave herself up to the luxury of thought; and
+when a young woman does that she is very far gone indeed. It was all so
+strange to her, so bewildering, that she needed time to realize it.
+
+And as she sat there, her eyes, full of a soft dreamy light, fixed upon
+vacancy, and her lips parted in a happy smile, she felt a sudden longing
+to be back again upon the moorland cliffs round Thurwell Court, out in
+the open country with her thoughts. This town season with its monotonous
+round of gayety was nothing to her now. More than ever, in the enlarged
+and sweeter life which seemed opening up before her, she saw the
+littleness and enervating insipidity of it all. She would go down home,
+and take some books--the books he was fond of--and sit out on the cliffs
+by the sea and read and dream, and think over all he had said to her,
+and look forward to his coming; it should be there he would find her.
+They two alone would stand together under the blue sky, and wander about
+in the sunshine over the blossoming moors. Would not this be better than
+meeting him again in a crowded London drawing-room? She knew that he
+would like it best.
+
+So when Lady Thurwell returned from her party, and was sitting in her
+room in a very becoming dressing gown, yawning and thinking over the
+events of the evening, there was a little tap at the door, and Helen
+entered, similarly attired.
+
+"Please tell me all about it," she begged, drawing up a chair to the
+fire. "My headache is quite gone."
+
+"So I should imagine," remarked Lady Thurwell. "I never saw you look
+better. What have you been doing to yourself, child? You look like
+Aphrodite 'new bathed in Paphian wells.'"
+
+"If you mean to insinuate that I've had a bath," laughed Helen, "I admit
+it. Now, tell me all about this evening."
+
+Which of course Lady Thurwell did, and found a good deal to say about
+the dresses and the menu.
+
+"By the bye," she wound up, with a curious look at her niece, "Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was there, and seemed a good deal disappointed at the
+absence of a certain young lady."
+
+"Indeed!" answered Helen. "That was very nice of him. And now, aunt, do
+you know what I came in to say to you?"
+
+Lady Thurwell shook her head.
+
+"Haven't any idea, Helen. Has anyone been making love to you?"
+
+Helen shook her head, but the color gathered in her cheeks, and she took
+up a screen, as though to protect her face from the fire.
+
+"I want to go home, aunt. Don't look so startled, please. I heard from
+papa this morning, and he's not very well, and Lord Thurwell comes back
+to-morrow, so you won't be lonely, and I've really quite made my mind
+up. Town is very nice, but I like the country best."
+
+"Like the country best in May!" Lady Thurwell gasped. "My dear child,
+have you taken leave of your senses?"
+
+"Not quite, aunt," Helen answered, smiling. "Only it is as I say. I like
+the country best, and I would really rather go home."
+
+Lady Thurwell considered for a full minute. Being a very juvenile
+matron, she had by no means enjoyed her _role_ as chaperon to an
+acknowledged beauty. She had offered it purely out of good nature, and
+because, although only related by marriage--Lord Thurwell was the elder
+brother of Mr. Thurwell, of Thurwell Court, and the head of the
+family--still there was no one else to perform such a service for Helen.
+But if Helen did really not care for it, and wished to return to her
+country life, why there was no necessity for her to make a martyr of
+herself any longer.
+
+"You really mean this, Helen?"
+
+"I do indeed, aunt."
+
+"Then it is settled. Make your own arrangements. I have liked having
+you, child, and whenever you choose to come to me again you will be
+welcome. But of course, it is not everyone who cares for town life, and
+if you do not, you are quite right to detach yourself from it. I'm
+afraid I know several young men who'll take your sudden flight very much
+to heart; and one who isn't particularly young."
+
+"Nonsense!" laughed her niece. "There'll be no mourning on my account."
+
+"We shall see," remarked Lady Thurwell, sententiously. "If one person
+does not find his way down to Thurwell Court after you before long, I
+shall be surprised."
+
+"Please don't let anyone do anything so stupid, aunt," pleaded Helen
+with sudden warmth. "It would be--no good."
+
+Lady Thurwell lifted her eyebrows, and looked at her niece with a
+curious little smile.
+
+"Who is it?" she asked quietly.
+
+But Helen only laughed. Her secret was too precious to part with--yet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+MR. THURWELL MAKES SOME INQUIRIES
+
+
+And so Helen had her own way, and went back to her home on the moors,
+where Mr. Thurwell, who had just finished his hunting season, was very
+glad to see her, although not a little surprised. But she told him no
+more than she had told her aunt, that she had no taste for London life.
+The time would soon come when he would know the whole truth, but until
+her lover's return the secret was her own.
+
+She had one hasty note from him, posted in Paris on his way to Italy,
+and though there were only a few lines in it, she treasured up the
+little scrap of paper very tenderly, for, such as it was, it was her
+first love letter. He had given her an address in the small town to
+which he was bound, and she noticed, with a slight wonder at the
+coincidence, that it was the same place where he had first seen her. She
+had written to him, and now there had come a pause. She had nothing to
+do but to wait.
+
+But though such waiting is at best but a tedious matter, those few days
+brought their own peculiar happiness to her. She would have found it
+impossible to have confided her secret to any human being; she had no
+bosom friend to whom she could go for sympathy. But her healthy,
+open-air life, her long solitary walks, and a certain vein of poetry
+which she undoubtedly possessed, had given her some of that passionate,
+almost personal, love of nature which is sweeter by far than any human
+friendship. For her those long stretches of wild moorland, with the dark
+silent tarns and far-distant line of blue hills, the high cliffs where
+the sea wind roared with all the bluster and fury of a late March, the
+sea itself with its ever-changing face, the faint streaks of brilliant
+color in the evening sky, or the wan glare of a stormy morning--all
+these things had their own peculiar meaning to her, and awoke always
+some echo of response in her heart. And it chanced that at that time all
+the sweet breezy freshness of a late spring was making glad the country
+which she loved, and the perfect sympathy of the season with her own
+happiness seemed to her very sweet, for it was springtime too in her
+heart. A new life glowed in her veins, and sometimes it seemed to her
+that she could see the vista of her whole future bathed in the warm
+sunlight of a new-born happiness. The murmuring pine groves, the gay
+reveling of the birds, the budding flowers and heath--all these things
+appealed to her with a strange sympathetic force. So she took long
+walks, and came home with sparkling eyes, and her cheeks full of a rich
+color, till her father wondered what had come to his proud silent
+daughter to give this new buoyancy to her frame, and added physical
+beauty to her face, which had once seemed to him a little too
+_spirituelle_ and ethereal.
+
+Once more Helen and her father sat at breakfast out on the sheltered
+balcony of Thurwell Court. Below them the gardens, still slightly coated
+with the early morning dew, were bathed in the glittering sunshine, and
+in the distance, and over the tops of the trees in the park, a slight
+feathery mist was curling upward. The sweet, fresh air, still a little
+keen, was buoyant with all the joyous exhilaration of spring, and
+nature, free at last from the saddened grip of winter, was reasserting
+itself in one glad triumphant chorus. Down in the park the slumberous
+cawing of the rooks triumphed over the lighter-voiced caroling of
+innumerable thrushes and blackbirds, and mingled with the faint humming
+of a few early bees, seemed to fill the air with a sweetly blended
+strain of glad music. It was one of those mornings typical of its own
+season, in which the whole atmosphere seems charged with quickening
+life. Summer with its warm luscious glow, and autumn with its clear calm
+repose, have their own special charms. But a spring morning, coming
+after the deep sadness of a hard winter, gains much by the contrast.
+There is overflowing energy and passionate joy in its newly beating
+pulses, the warm delight of reawakening life, happy to find the earth so
+fair a place, which the staider charms of a more developed season
+altogether lack.
+
+It was in some measure owing to this influence, and also to the fact
+that she held in her hand a letter from her lover, which her father had
+handed her without remark, but with a somewhat curious glance, that
+Helen was feeling very happy that morning. The last year had dealt
+strangely with her. Tragedy had thrown its startling, gloomy shadow
+across her life, and had left traces which could never be altogether
+wiped out. Anxieties of another sort had come, perplexities and strange
+unhappy doubts, although these last had burned with a fitful, uncertain
+flame and now seemed stilled for ever. But triumphing over all these was
+this new-born love, the great deep joy of a woman's life, so vast, so
+sweet and beautiful, that it transfuses her whole being, and seems to
+lift her into another world.
+
+And so Helen, leaning back in her chair, with her eyes wandering idly
+over the pleasant gardens and park below, to where, through a deep gap
+in the trees, was just visible a faint blue line of sea, was wrapped up
+very much in her own thoughts, and scarcely doing her duty toward
+entertaining her father. Indeed, she seemed almost unconscious of his
+presence until he looked up suddenly from a letter he was reading and
+asked her a question.
+
+"By the bye, Helen," he said, "I've meant to ask you something every day
+since you've been home, but I have always forgotten it. Who was that
+young man who came down here to help Johnson with the auditing, and who
+went away so suddenly? A _protege_ of yours, I suppose, as he came here
+on your recommendation?"
+
+"Yes, I was interested in him," she answered, looking steadily away, and
+with a faint color in her cheeks. "Why do you ask? Did he not do his
+work properly?"
+
+"Oh, yes, he did his work very well, I believe," Mr. Thurwell said
+impatiently. "It was what he did after working hours, and which has just
+come to my notice, which makes me ask you. It seems he spent the whole
+of his spare time making covert, but I must say ingenious, inquiries
+respecting Sir Geoffrey's murder, and I am also given to understand that
+he paid Falcon's Nest an uninvited visit in the middle of the night.
+What does it all mean? Was it merely curiosity, or had he any object in
+it?"
+
+"I think--he had an object," she answered slowly.
+
+"Indeed!" Mr. Thurwell raised his eyebrows and waited for an
+explanation.
+
+"You remember, papa, that awful scene here when Rachel Kynaston died,
+and what her last words to me were?"
+
+"Yes, I remember perfectly," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely.
+
+"Well, at that time I could not help having just a suspicion that Mr.
+Brown must be mixed up in it in some way, and it seemed to me that I
+should not be quite at ease if I let matters go on without doing
+anything, so I--well, this young man came down here to see whether he
+could find out anything."
+
+Mr. Thurwell seldom frowned at his daughter, of whom he was secretly a
+little afraid, but he did so now. He was seriously angry.
+
+"It was not a matter for you to have concerned yourself in at all," he
+said, rising from his seat. "At least, I should have been consulted."
+
+"It was all very foolish, I know," she admitted humbly.
+
+"It was worse than foolish; it was wrong and undutiful," he declared. "I
+am astonished that my daughter should have mixed herself up with such
+underhand work. And may I ask why I was kept in ignorance?"
+
+"Because you would not have allowed me to do what I did," she said
+quietly, with downcast eyes. "I thought it was my duty. I have been
+punished--punished severely."
+
+He softened a little, and resumed his seat. She was certainly very
+contrite. He was silent for a moment or two, and then asked her a
+question.
+
+"Did this young man--detective, I suppose he was--find out anything
+about Mr. Brown?"
+
+She looked up, a little surprised at the curiosity in his tone.
+
+"Why, papa, it was I who found out how stupid I had been," she said.
+"When I discovered that our mysterious tenant was Bernard Maddison, of
+course I saw the absurdity of suspecting him at once."
+
+Mr. Thurwell moved a little uneasily in his chair.
+
+"He did not find out anything, then?" he asked.
+
+She was silent. She had not expected this, and she scarcely knew how to
+answer.
+
+"He found out what Mr. Brown--I mean Mr. Maddison--himself told me, that
+he had known Sir Geoffrey abroad."
+
+"Nothing more?"
+
+"I did not ask. To tell the truth, I was not interested. The idea of Mr.
+Maddison being connected with such a crime is simply ridiculous. I was
+heartily sorry that I had ever taken any steps at all."
+
+Mr. Thurwell lit a cigarette, and drew his remaining letters toward him.
+
+"I must confess," he said slowly, "that when his house was searched in
+my presence, and all that we discovered was that Mr. Brown was really
+Bernard Maddison, I felt very much as you feel; and, as you no doubt
+remember, I went out of my way to be civil to the man, and brought him
+up here to dine. But since then things have cropped up, and I'm bound to
+say that it looks a little queer. I hear that young man of yours told
+several people that he had in his pocket what would bring Mr. Brown to
+the scaffold any day."
+
+"It is not true," she answered in a low firm tone. "I know that it is
+not true."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I hope not, I'm sure. Still, I'd rather he did not come back here
+again. Some one must have done it, you see, and if it was a stranger,
+he must have been a marvelous sort of fellow to come into this lonely
+part of the country, and go away again without leaving a single trace."
+
+"Criminals are all clever at disguises," she interposed.
+
+"Doubtless; but they have yet to learn the art of becoming invisible,"
+he went on drily. "I'm afraid it's no use concealing the fact that
+things look black against Maddison, and there is more than a whisper in
+the county about it. If he's a wise fellow, he'll keep away from here."
+
+"He will not," she answered. "He will come back. He is innocent!"
+
+Mr. Thurwell saw the rising flush in his daughter's face, but he had no
+suspicion as to its real cause. He knew that Bernard Maddison was one of
+her favorite authors, and he put her defence of him down to that fact.
+He was not a particularly warm advocate on either side, and suddenly
+remembering his unopened letters, he abandoned the discussion.
+
+Helen, whose calm happiness had been altogether disturbed, rose in a few
+minutes with the intention of making her escape. But her father, with an
+open letter in his hand, checked her.
+
+"Have you been seeing much of Sir Allen Beaumerville in town, Helen?" he
+asked.
+
+"Yes, a great deal. Why?" she asked.
+
+"He's coming down here," Mr. Thurwell said. "He asks whether we can put
+him up for a night or two, as he wants to do some botanizing. Of course
+we shall be very pleased. I did give him a general invitation, I
+remember, but I never thought he'd come. You'll see about having some
+rooms got ready, Helen!"
+
+"Yes, papa, I'll see to it," she answered, moving slowly away.
+
+What could this visit in the middle of the season mean? she wondered
+uneasily. It was so unlike Sir Allan to leave town in May. Could it be
+that what her aunt had once laughingly hinted at was really going to
+happen? Her cheeks burned at the very thought. She liked Sir Allan, and
+she had found him a delightful companion, but even to think of any other
+man now in such a connection seemed unreal and grotesque. After all, it
+was most improbable. Sir Allan had only shown her the attention he
+showed every woman who pleased his fastidious taste.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+SIR ALLAN BEAUMERVILLE VISITS THE COURT
+
+
+On the following day Sir Allan duly arrived, and in a very short space
+of time Helen's fears had altogether vanished. His appearance was
+certainly not that of an anxious wooer. He was pale and haggard and
+thin, altogether a different person to the brilliant man about town who
+was such a popular figure in society. Something seemed to have aged him.
+There were lines and wrinkles in his face which had never appeared there
+before, and an air of restless depression in his manner and bearing
+quite foreign to his former self.
+
+On the first evening Mr. Thurwell broached some plans for his
+entertainment, but Sir Allan stopped him at once.
+
+"If I may be allowed to choose," he said, "I should like to be
+absolutely quiet for a few days. London life is not the easiest in the
+world, and I'm afraid I must be getting an old man. At any rate I am
+knocked up, and I want a rest."
+
+"You have come to the right place for that," Mr. Thurwell laughed. "You
+could live here for months and never see a soul if you chose. But I'm
+afraid you'll soon be bored."
+
+"I'm not afraid of that," Sir Allan answered quietly. "Besides, my
+excuse was not altogether a fiction. I really am an enthusiastic
+botanist, and I want to take up my researches here just where I was
+obliged to leave them off so suddenly last year."
+
+Mr. Thurwell nodded.
+
+"I remember," he said; "you were staying at Mallory, weren't you, when
+that sad affair to poor Kynaston happened?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Sir Allan moved his chair a little, as though to escape from the warmth
+of the fire, and sat where the heavily shaded lamp left his face in the
+shadow.
+
+"Yes, that was a terrible affair," he said in a low tone; "and a very
+mysterious one. Nothing has ever been heard of the murderer, I suppose?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"And there are no rumors, no suspicions?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked uneasily around, as though to satisfy himself that
+there were no servants lingering in the room.
+
+"It is scarcely a thing to be talked about," he said slowly; "but there
+have been things said."
+
+"About whom?"
+
+"About my tenant at Falcon's Nest--Bernard Maddison, as he turned out to
+be."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+Mr. Thurwell looked at his guest wonderingly. He could not quite make up
+his mind whether he was profoundly indifferent or equally interested.
+His tone sounded a little cold.
+
+"There was a fellow down here in my employ," continued Mr. Thurwell,
+lighting a fresh cigar, "who turns out to have been a spy or detective
+of some sort. Of course I knew nothing of it at the time--in fact, I've
+only just found it out; but it seems he ransacked Falcon's Nest and
+discovered some papers which he avowed quite openly would hang Mr.
+Maddison. But what's become of him I don't know."
+
+"I suppose he didn't disclose the nature of the papers?" Sir Allan asked
+quietly.
+
+"No, he didn't go as far as that. By the bye, you know every one,
+Beaumerville. Who is this Bernard Maddison? Of course I know all about
+his writing and that; but what family is he of? He is certainly a
+gentleman."
+
+Sir Allan threw away his cigarette, and rose.
+
+"I think I have heard once, but I don't remember for the moment. Miss
+Helen promised us a little music, didn't she?" he added. "If you are
+ready, shall we go and remind her?"
+
+Sir Allan brought the conversation to an end with a shrug of his
+shoulders, and during the remainder of his stay Mr. Thurwell noticed
+that he carefully avoided any reopening of it. Evidently his guest has
+no taste for horrors.
+
+Sir Allan rose late on the following morning, and until lunch-time
+begged for the use of the library, where he remained writing letters and
+reading up the flora of the neighborhood. Early in the afternoon he
+appeared equipped for his botanizing expedition.
+
+"Helen shall go with you and show you the most likely places," Mr.
+Thurwell had said at luncheon. But though Sir Allan had bowed
+courteously, and had expressed himself as charmed, he had not said
+another word about it, so when the time came he started alone. On the
+whole Helen, although she was by no means ill-pleased, was not a little
+puzzled. In London, when it was sometimes difficult to obtain a place by
+her side at all, Sir Allan had been the most assiduous and attentive of
+cavaliers; but now that they were quite alone in the country, and her
+company was even offered to him, he showed himself by no means eager to
+avail himself of it. On the contrary, he had deliberately preferred
+doing his botanizing alone. Well, she was quite satisfied, she thought,
+with a little laugh. It was far better this way than the other. Still
+she was puzzled.
+
+Later in the afternoon she started for her favorite walk alone. She
+nearly always chose the same way along the cliffs, through the fir
+plantation, and sometimes as far as the hill by the side of which was
+Falcon's Nest. It was a walk full of associations for her, associations
+which had become so dear a part of her life that she always strove to
+heighten them even by choosing the same hour of the day for her walk as
+that well-remembered one when they had stood hand-in-hand for a single
+moment in the shadows of the darkening plantation. And again, as it had
+done many times before, her heart beat fast, and sweet memories began to
+steal back to her as she passed under those black waving branches
+moaning slightly in the evening breeze, and pressed under foot the brown
+leaves which in a sodden mass carpeted the winding path. Yes, it was
+here by that tall slender fir that they had stood for that one moment of
+intense happiness, when the thunder of the sea filling the air around
+them had almost forbidden speech, and the strange light had flashed in
+his dark eyes. She passed the spot with slow, lingering steps and
+quickening pulses, and opening the little hand-gate, climbed slowly up
+the cliff.
+
+At the summit she paused and looked around. A low grey mist hung over
+the moor, and twilight had cast its mantle of half-veiled obscurity over
+sea and land. A wind too had sprung up, blowing her ulster and skirts
+around her, and driving the mist across the moor in clouds of small,
+fine rain. Before her she could just see the dim outline of the opposite
+hill, with its dark patch of firs, and Falcon's Nest, bare and distinct,
+close up against its side. The wind and the rain blew against her, but
+she took no heed. All personal discomforts seemed so little beside these
+memories tinged with such a peculiar sweetness. It is a fact that a
+woman is able to extract far more pleasure from memories than a man, for
+there is in his nature a certain impatience which makes it impossible
+for him to keep his thought fixed steadfastly upon the past. The vivid
+flashes of memory which do come to him only incite a great restlessness
+for its renewal, which, if it be for the time impossible, is only
+disquieting and discontenting. But for a woman, her love itself, even
+though it be for the time detached from its object, is a sweet and
+precious thing. She can yield herself up to its influence, can steep her
+mind and soul in it, till a glow of intense happiness steals through her
+whole frame; and hence her patience during separation is so much greater
+than a man's.
+
+And it was so to a certain extent with Helen. Those few moments of
+intense abstraction had their own peculiar pleasure for her, and it was
+only the sound of the far-off clock borne by the wind across the moor
+from Thurwell Court which recalled her to herself. Then she started, and
+in a moment more would have been on her way home.
+
+But that lingering farewell glance toward Falcon's Nest suddenly changed
+into a startled fearful gaze. Her heart beat fast, and she took an
+involuntary step forward. There was no doubt about it. A dim moving
+light shone from the lower windows of the cottage.
+
+Her first wild thought was that her lover had himself returned, and a
+thrill of intense joy passed through her whole being, only to die away
+before the cold chill of a heart-sickening dread. Was it not far more
+likely to be an intruder of the type of Benjamin Levy, a spy or emissary
+of the law, searching amongst his papers as Benjamin Levy had done, for
+the same hideous reason. Her heart sank with fear, and then leaped up
+with the fierce defensive instinct of a woman who sees her lover's
+enemies working for his ruin. She did not hesitate for an instant, but
+walked swiftly along the cliff-side towards that tremulous light.
+
+The twilight was fast deepening, and the cold grey tint of the dull
+afternoon was gradually becoming blotted out into darkness. As she drew
+nearer to her destination, the low moaning of the sea below became
+mingled with the melancholy sighing of the wind amongst the thick fir
+trees which overhung the cottage. The misty rain blew in her face and
+penetrated her thick ulster. Everything around was as dreary and lonely
+as it could be. The only sign of any human life was that faint
+glimmering light now stationary, as though the searcher whoever he might
+be, had found what he wanted, and had settled down in one of the rooms.
+
+As she drew nearer she saw which it was, and trembled. All the rest of
+the cottage was in black darkness. The light shone only from the window
+of that little inner study on the ground floor.
+
+She had passed through the gate, and with beating heart approached the
+window. A few yards away she paused and looked in.
+
+A candle was burning on a small bracket, and, though its light was but
+dim, it showed her everything. The cabinet was open, and papers were
+strewn about, as though thrown right and left in a desperate search;
+and, with his back to her, a man was seated before it, his bared head
+resting upon his arms, and his whole attitude full of the passionate
+abandonment of a great despair. She had but one thought. It was her
+lover returned, and he needed her consolation. With a new light in her
+face she turned and moved softly toward the front door. As she reached
+the threshold she paused and drew back. There was the sound of footsteps
+inside.
+
+She stepped behind a bush and waited. In a moment the door of the
+cottage was thrown suddenly open, and the tall figure of a man stood in
+the entrance. For one moment he hesitated. Then with a sudden passionate
+gesture he raised his hands high above his head, and she heard a long
+deep moan burst from his quivering lips.
+
+The pity which swelled up in her heart she kept back with a strong hand.
+A strange bewilderment was creeping over her. She had seen only the dark
+outline of the figure, but surely it was not the figure of her lover.
+And then she held her breath, and walking swiftly away, passing so close
+to her that she could look into his white, strained face, Sir Allan
+Beaumerville strode down the garden, and disappeared in the shadows of
+the plantation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE SCENE CHANGES
+
+
+The midday sun had risen into a sky of deep cloudless blue, and a
+silence almost as intense as the silence of night rested upon the earth.
+No one was abroad, no one seemed to have anything particular to do. Far
+away on the vine-covered slopes a few peasants were lazily bending over
+their work, the bright garments of their picturesque attire standing out
+like little specks of brilliant coloring against the dun-colored
+background. But in the quaint old-fashioned town itself no one was
+astir. One solitary Englishman made his way alone and almost unnoticed
+through the queer zig-zag streets, up the worn grey steps by the famous
+statute of Minerva, and on to the terraced walk, fronting which were the
+aristocratic villas of the little Italian town.
+
+It was a solitude which was pleasing to him, for it was very evident
+that he was no curious tourist, or casual visitor of any sort. His eyes
+were full of that eager half-abstracted look which so clearly denotes
+the awakening of old associations, quickened into life by familiar
+surroundings; and, indeed, it was so. To Bernard Maddison, every stone
+in that quietly sleeping, picturesque old town spoke with a language of
+its own. The very atmosphere, laden with the sultry languorous heat of a
+southern sun, seemed charged with memories. Their influence was strong
+upon him, and he walked like a man in a dream, until he reached what
+seemed to be his destination, and here he paused.
+
+He had come to the end of the terraced walk, the evening promenade of
+the whole town. Before him was a small orange grove, whose aromatic
+odor, faintly penetrating the still air, added one more to his stock of
+memories. On his right hand was a grey stone wall, worn and tottering
+with age, and overhung with green creepers and shrubs, reaching over and
+hanging down from the other side, and let into it, close to him, was a
+low nail-studded door of monastic shape, half hidden by a luxurious
+drooping shrub, from amongst the foliage of which peeped out star-like
+clusters of soft scarlet flowers.
+
+For many moments he stood before that door, with his hand resting upon
+the rusty latch, lingering in a sort of apathy, as though he were
+unwilling to disturb some particular train of thought. Then a
+mellow-sounding bell from a convent in the valley below startled him,
+and immediately he lifted the latch before him. There was no other
+fastening, and the door opened. He stepped inside, and carefully
+reclosed it.
+
+He was in a garden, a garden of desolation, which nature seemed to have
+claimed for her own and made beautiful. It was a picture of luxuriant
+overgrowth. The grass on the lawns had become almost a jungle. It had
+grown up over the base of the deep grey stone basins of exquisite shape
+and carving, the tiny statuettes tottering into ruin, and the worn old
+sun-dial, across which the slanting rays of the sun still glanced.
+Weeds, too, had crept up around them in picturesque toils, weeds which
+had started to destroy, but remained to adorn with all the sweet abandon
+of unrestrained growth. Some of them had put forth brilliant blossoms
+of many hues, little spots of exquisite coloring against the sombre hue
+of the stonework and the deep green of the leaves. Everywhere nature had
+triumphed over science and skill. Everything was changed, and nature had
+shown herself a more perfect gardener than man. The gravel paths were
+embedded with soft green moss, studded with clumps of white and purple
+violets, whose faint fragrance, mingled with the more exotic scent of
+other plants, filled the warm air with a peculiar dreamy perfume.
+Nowhere had the hand of man sought to restrain or to develop. Nature had
+had her own way, and had made for herself a fair garden.
+
+A little overcome by the heat, and a little, too, by swiftly stirring
+memories, Bernard Maddison sank down upon a low iron seat, under the
+shade of a little clump of almond trees, and covered his face with his
+hands. And there came to him, as he sat there, something more vivid than
+an ordinary day-dream, something so real and minutely played out, that
+afterwards it possessed for him all the freshness and significance of a
+veritable trance. It seemed, indeed, as if some mysterious force had
+drawn aside the curtain of the past in his mind, and had bidden him look
+out once more upon the moving figures in a living drama.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The warm sunlight faded from the sky, the summer heat died out of the
+air, the soft velvety mantle of a southern night lay upon the brooding
+land. Many stars were burning in the deep-blue heavens, and the horned
+moon, golden and luminous, hung low down in the west.
+
+Pale, and with the fever of a great anger burning in his dry eyes, a
+man sat at the open window of the villa yonder, watching. Around him
+were scattered all the signs of arduous brain labor, books, manuscripts,
+classical dictionaries, and works of reference. But his pen had fallen
+from his hand, and he was doing nothing. He sat there idle, gazing out
+upon the fantastic shapes and half-veiled gloom of this fair garden. Its
+rich balmy odors, and the fainter perfume of rarer plants which floated
+languidly in through the open window, were nothing to him. He was barely
+conscious of the sweet delights of the voluptuous summer night. He was
+watching with his eyes fixed upon the east, where morning would soon be
+breaking.
+
+It came at last--what he was waiting for. There was a slight click of
+the latch from the old postern door in the wall, and the low murmur of
+voices--a man's, pleading and passionate, and a woman's, half gay, half
+mocking. Then the door opened and shut, and a tall fair lady walked
+leisurely up toward the villa.
+
+She wore no hat, but a hooded opera-cloak was thrown loosely over her
+shoulders, and as she strolled up the path, pausing every now and then
+to carelessly gather a handful of the drooping lilies, whose perfume
+made faint the heavy night air, its folds parted, and revealed brief
+glimpses of soft white drapery and flashing jewels on her bosom and in
+her hair. Her feet, too, were cased in tiny white satin slippers, which
+seemed scarcely to press the ground, so lightly and gracefully she
+walked. Altogether she was very fair to look upon--the fairest sight in
+all that lovely garden.
+
+Not so seemed to think the man who stood back in the shadow of the
+window, waiting for her. His white face was ghastly with passion, and
+his fingers were nervously interlaced in the curtains. It was only with
+a supreme effort that he at last flung them from him, and moved forward
+as though to meet her.
+
+She saw him standing there, pale and rigid, like a carved statue, save
+for the passion which burned in his eyes, and for a moment she
+hesitated. Then, with the resigned air of one who makes up her mind to
+face something disagreeable, she shrugged her shoulders, and throwing
+away the handful of lilies she had gathered, advanced toward him.
+
+They neither of them spoke until they stood face to face. Then, as his
+motionless form prevented her stepping through the window, and barred
+her further progress, she came to a standstill, and addressed him
+lightly.
+
+"Yours is a strange welcome home, _mon ami_," she said. "Why do you
+stand there looking so fierce?"
+
+He pointed with shaking fingers away toward the east, where a faint
+gleam of daylight was lightening the sky.
+
+"Where have you been?" he asked harshly. "Can you not see that it is
+morning? All night long I have sat here watching for you. Where have you
+been?"
+
+"You know very well where I have been," she answered carelessly. "To the
+ball at the Leon d'Or. I told you that I was going."
+
+"Told me! You told me! Did I not forbid it? Did I not tell you that I
+would not have you go?"
+
+"Nevertheless, I have been," she answered lightly. "It was an
+engagement, and I never break engagements."
+
+"An engagement? You, with no chaperon, to go to a common ball at a
+public room! An engagement. Yes, with your lover, I presume."
+
+She looked at him steadily, and yawned in his face.
+
+"You are in a bad temper, I fear," she said. "At least, you are very
+rude. Let me pass, will you? I am tired of standing here."
+
+He was beside himself with passion, and for a second or two he did not
+speak. But when at last the words came, they were clear and distinct
+enough.
+
+"Into this house you shall never pass again," he said. "You have
+disregarded my wishes, you have disobeyed my orders, and now you are
+deceiving me. You are trifling with my honor. You are bringing shame
+upon my name. Go and keep your assignations from another roof. Mine has
+sheltered your intrigues long enough!"
+
+The hand which had kept together her opera-cloak relinquished its grasp,
+and it fell back upon her shoulders. The whole beauty of her sinuous
+figure, in its garb of dazzling white, stood revealed. The moonlight
+gleamed in her fair hair, bound up with one glittering gem, shone softly
+upon her white swelling throat and bare arms, and flashed in her dark
+eyes, suddenly full of passion. Her right hand was nervously clasped
+around a little morsel of lace handkerchief which she had drawn from the
+folds of her corsage, and which seemed to make the air around heavy with
+a sweet perfume.
+
+"You are angry, and you do not know what you are saying," she said. "It
+is true that you forbade me to go to-night--but you forbid everything. I
+cannot live your life. It is too dull, too _triste_. It is cruel of you
+to expect it. Let me go in now. If you want to scold, you can do so
+to-morrow."
+
+She stepped forward, but he laid his hands upon her dainty shoulders and
+pushed her roughly back.
+
+"Never!" he cried savagely. "Go and live what life you choose. This is
+no home for you. Go, I say!"
+
+She looked at him, her lovely eyes turned pleadingly upwards, and her
+lips trembling.
+
+"You are mad!" she said. "Am I not your wife? You have no right to keep
+me here. And my boy, too. Let me pass."
+
+He did not move, nor did he show any sign of yielding. He stood there
+with his hand stretched out in a threatening gesture toward her, his
+face pale and mute as marble, but with the blind rage still burning in
+his dark eyes.
+
+"What is the boy, or what am I to you?" he cried hoarsely. "Begone,
+woman!"
+
+Still she did not seem to understand.
+
+"Where would you have me go?" she asked. "Is not this my home? What have
+I----"
+
+"Go to your lover!" he interrupted fiercely. "Tell him that your husband
+is no longer your tool. He will take you in."
+
+A burning color streamed into her delicate cheeks, and a sudden passion
+blazed in her eyes. She drew herself up to her full height and turned
+upon him with the dignity of an empress.
+
+"Listen to me one moment," she said. "Ask yourself whether you have ever
+tried to make my life a happy one. Did I ever pretend to care for books
+and solitude? Before I married you I told you that I was fond of change
+and gaiety and life, and you promised me that I should have it. Ask
+yourself how you have kept that promise. You deny me every pleasure, and
+drive me to seek them alone. I am weary of your jealous furies, and
+your evil temper. As God looks down upon us at this moment, I have been
+a faithful wife to you; but if you will add to all your cruelties this
+cowardly, miserable indignity, then I will never willingly look upon
+your face again, and what sin I do will be on your head, not mine. Will
+you stand aside and let me pass?"
+
+"Never!" he answered. "Never!"
+
+She drew her mantle round her shoulders, and turned her back upon him
+with a contemptuous gesture.
+
+"You have made me what I shall be," she said. "The sin be with you. For
+several weary years you have made me miserable. Now you have made me
+wicked."
+
+She walked away into the perfumed darkness, and presently he heard the
+gate close behind her. He listened frantically, hoping to hear her
+returning steps. It was in vain. All was silent. Then he felt his limbs
+totter, and he sank back on a couch, and buried his face amongst the
+cushions.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+BENJAMIN LEVY RUNS HIS QUARRY TO EARTH
+
+
+The slumberous afternoon wore slowly away. A slight breeze rustled
+amongst the cypresses and the olive trees, and the air grew clearer. The
+sun was low in the heavens, and long shadows lay across the brilliant
+patches of flowers, half wild, half cultivated, and on the moss-grown
+walks.
+
+Still Bernard Maddison made no movement. It may have been that he shrunk
+from what was before him, or it may have been that he had some special
+purpose in thus calling up those broken visions of the past into his
+mind. For, as he sat there, they still thronged in upon him, disjointed
+and confused, yet all tinged with that peculiar sadness which seemed to
+have lain heavy upon his life.
+
+Again the memory of those long lonely days of his boyhood stole in upon
+him. He thought of that terrible day when his father stood by his
+bedside, and had bidden him in an awful voice ask no more for his
+mother, and think of her only as dead; and he remembered well the chill
+of cold despair with which he had realized that that fair, sweet woman,
+who had called him her little son, and who had accepted his devoted
+boyish affection with a sort of amused pleasure, was gone from him for
+ever. Henceforth life would indeed be a dreary thing, alone with that
+cold, silent student, with whom he was almost afraid to speak, and whom
+he scarcely ever addressed by the name of father.
+
+A dreary time it had indeed been. His memory glanced lightly over the
+long monotonous years with a sort of shuddering recoil. He thought of
+his father's frequent absences, and of his return from one of them in
+the middle of a winter's night, propped up in an invalid carriage, with
+a surgeon in attendance, and blood-stained bandages around his leg. And
+he thought of a night when he had sat up with him while the nurse
+rested, and one name had ceaselessly burst from those white feverish
+lips, laden with fierce curses and deep vindictive hate, a name which
+had since been written into his memory with letters of fire. Further and
+further on his memory dragged him, until he himself, a boy no longer,
+had stood upon the threshold of man-hood, and on one awful night had
+heard from his father's lips that story which had cast its shadow across
+his life. Then for the first time had sprung up of some sort of sympathy
+between them, sympathy which had for its foundation a common hatred, a
+common sense of deep, unpardonable wrong. The oath which his father had
+sworn with trembling lips the son had echoed, and in dread of the
+vengeance of these two, the man against whom they had sworn it cut
+himself off from his fellows, and skulked in every out-of-the-way corner
+of Europe, a hunted being in peril of his life. There had come a great
+change over their lives, and they had drifted farther apart again. He
+himself had gone out into the world something of a scholar and something
+of a pedant, and he had found that all his ideas of life had lain
+rusting in his country home, and that he had almost as much to unlearn
+as to learn. With ample means, and an eager thirst for knowledge, he had
+passed from one to another of the great seats of learning of the world.
+But his lesson was not taught him at one of them. He learned it not
+amongst the keen conflict of intellect at the universities, not in the
+toils of the great vague disquiet which was throbbing amongst all
+cultured and artistic society, but in the eternal silence of Mont Blanc
+and her snow-capped Alps, and the whisperings of the night winds which
+blew across the valleys. At Heidelberg he had been a philosopher, in
+Italy he had been a scholar, and in Switzerland he became a poet. When
+once again he returned to the more feverish life of cities he was a
+changed man. He looked out upon life now with different eyes and
+enlarged vision. Passion had given place to a certain studied calm, a
+sort of inward contemplativeness which is ever inseparable from the true
+artist. Life became for him almost too impersonal, too little human.
+Soon it threatened to become one long abstraction, accompanied
+necessarily with a weakened hold on all sensuous things, and a
+corresponding decline in taste and appreciation. One thing had saved him
+from relapsing into the nervous dreamer, and the weaver of bright but
+aimless fancies. He had loved, and he had become a man again, linked to
+the world and the things of the world by the pulsations of his passion
+and his strong deep love. Was it well for him or ill, he wondered. Well,
+it might have been save for the deadly peril in which he lived, and
+which seemed closing fast around him. Well, it surely would have
+been....
+
+Lower and lower the sun had sunk, till now its rim touched the horizon.
+The evening breeze stealing down from the hills had gathered strength
+until now it was almost cold. The distant sound of footsteps, and the
+gay laughing voices of the promenaders from the awakening town broke the
+deep stillness which had hung over the garden and recalled Bernard
+Maddison from thoughtland. He rose to his feet, a little stiff, and
+walked slowly along the path towards the villa. At that same moment, Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, tired and angry with his long waiting, stole into the
+garden by the postern-gate.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+BENJAMIN LEVY WRITES HOME
+
+
+     "_June 10th_.
+
+     "MY DEAR DAD:--
+
+     "I wired you yesterday afternoon, immediately on our arrival at
+     this outlandish little place, to write to me at the hotel Leon
+     d'Or, for it seems that we have reached our destination--by we, of
+     course, I mean Mr. Maddison and myself, though he has not the least
+     idea of my presence here. Well, this is a queer old crib, I can
+     tell you, and the sooner we are on the move again the better I
+     shall be pleased. The fodder is odious, not fit for a pig, and the
+     wine is ditto. What wouldn't I give for a pint of Bass like they
+     draw at the Blue Boar? Old England for me is my motto!
+
+     "And now to biz! So far all's well. I'm on the right tack and no
+     mistake. We got here middle day, yesterday--came over the hills
+     from the railway in a regular old bone-shaker of a coach. My
+     tourist get-up is quite the fig, and though I caught Mr. M----
+     eyeing me over a bit supercilious like once, he didn't recognize me
+     if ever he did see me down at Thurwell Court, which I don't think
+     he did. Well, directly we got here, off started Mr. M---- through
+     the town, and after a bit I followed. Lord! it was hot and no
+     mistake, but he didn't seem to notice it, though the perspiration
+     was streaming down my back like anything. About a mile out of town
+     we came to a great high wall with a door in it, and before I could
+     say 'Jack Robinson' or get anywhere near him, in he went. Well, I
+     hung round a bit, and soon I found a sort of opening in the wall
+     where I could just see in, and there he was sitting down on a seat
+     in a regular howling wilderness of a garden, as though the whole
+     place belonged to him, if you please. All right! I thought, I'm
+     agreeable to a rest, and I sat down too, little thinking what was
+     in store for me. Four mortal hours passed before he stirred, and
+     jolly stiff and tired I was, I can tell you. But it was a lucky
+     thing for me all the same, for when he got up and made for the
+     house it was almost dark, so without more ado I just opened the
+     door and walked in myself. There was no end of shrubs and trees
+     about the place, and though I followed him on another path only a
+     few yards away, he couldn't see me, and there was no chance of his
+     hearing, for the moss had grown over the gravel like a blooming
+     carpet, which was all lucky for me again.
+
+     "Well, we were just close to the house, when we both of us got a
+     start, and I nearly yelled out. Round the corner of his path, thank
+     goodness! came a tall, white-haired old lady, in a long black
+     dress, with an ivory cross hanging down, and looking as dignified
+     as possible. She no sooner saw him than she stopped and cried out,
+     'Bernard! Bernard!' and seemed as though she were going to faint.
+     She pulled herself together, however, and things became very
+     interesting for me, I can tell you.
+
+     "Mr. M---- he was going to take her hands and kiss her, but she
+     drew them away and stood back. Lord! how awful her face did look!
+     It gave me a regular turn just to look at her.
+
+     "'Bernard!' she cried out in a low, shaking voice, 'I know
+     all--all!'
+
+     "'What do you mean, mother?' he asked.
+
+     "Then she stretched her arms up, and it was dreadful to look at
+     her.
+
+     "'I had a dream!' she cried, 'a dream which kept me shuddering
+     and sleepless from midnight to daybreak. I dreamed I saw
+     him--dead--cold and dead!'
+
+     "He said nothing, but he seemed fearfully upset. I kept crouched
+     down behind a shrub and listened.
+
+     "'In the morning I sent for a file of English newspapers,' she went
+     on. 'One by one I searched them through till I came to August last
+     year. There I found it. Bernard, it was at Thurwell Court. I had a
+     letter in my pocket from you with the postmark Thurwell. Don't come
+     near me, but speak! Is there blood upon your hands?'
+
+     "And now, dad, the most provoking things happened. It seemed just
+     as though it were done to spite me. He had his mouth open to
+     answer, and I had my ears open, as you may guess, to listen, and
+     see what happens, and tell me if it wasn't a rare sell! Off the old
+     woman goes into a faint all of a sudden. He catches hold of her and
+     sings out for help. Down I ran to the door as hard as I could,
+     slammed it as though I had just come in, and came running up the
+     path. 'Anything the matter?' I called out, as though I didn't know
+     my way. 'A lady fainted,' he shouts; 'come and help me carry her
+     into the house;' so up I went, and together we carried her inside
+     and laid her on a couch in one of the queerest-furnished rooms I
+     ever saw. There was servants with lighted lamps running about, and
+     another woman who seemed to be a relation, and such a fuss they all
+     made, and no mistake. However, Mr. M---- cooled them all down
+     again pretty soon, for he could see that it was only an ordinary
+     faint, and then he began to look at me curiously. I had made up my
+     mind to stay until the old woman came round, but he was too many
+     for me, for he got up and took me to the door himself. Of course,
+     he was awfully polite and all that, and was very much obliged for
+     my help, but I twigged it in a moment. He wanted me gone, so off I
+     skedaddled.
+
+     "Well, back I went to the inn, and began to make a few cautious
+     inquiries about the lady of the Villa Fiorlessa, for that was the
+     name of the house where I had left Mr. M----. I could not get on at
+     all at first, not understanding a word of the blessed lingo, but by
+     good luck I tumbled across an artist chap who turned out a good
+     sort, and offered to interpret for me. So we had the landlord in,
+     and I ordered a bottle of his best wine--nasty greasy stuff it
+     was--and we went at it hammer and tongs. Pretty soon I had found
+     out everything I wanted to.
+
+     "Nearly twenty years ago the lady--Mrs. Martival she was
+     called--had come to the Villa Fiorlessa with her husband and one
+     little boy. They were, it seems, one of the worst-matched couples
+     that could be imagined. Mr. Martival was a gloomy, severe man, who
+     hated going out, and worked at some sort of writing day and night.
+     His wife, on the other hand, who was a Frenchwoman, was
+     passionately fond of travel, and change, and gaiety. Her life was
+     consequently very like a prison, and it is stated, too, that
+     besides denying her every whim and forcing her to live in a manner
+     she utterly disliked, her husband ill-treated her shamefully. Well,
+     she made a few friends here and went to see them pretty often, and
+     just at that time an English milord--you can guess who he was--came
+     here to see the statue, and met Mrs. Martival, whom he seems to
+     have known before her marriage. The exact particulars are not
+     known, but it is supposed that Mrs. Martival would have been
+     married to this young Englishman, Sir Geoffrey Kynaston, but for
+     some deep scheming on the part of Mr. Martival. Anyhow, there was a
+     desperate quarrel between Mr. and Mrs. Martival, when she charged
+     him with duplicity before this marriage, and he forbade her to meet
+     Sir Geoffrey Kynaston again. Quite properly she refused to obey
+     him, and they met often, although every one seems quite sure that
+     at that time they met only as friends. Mr. Martival, however,
+     appears to have thought otherwise, for one night, after what they
+     call their carnival dance here, which every one in the neighborhood
+     had attended, Mr. Martival had the brutality to close his doors
+     against her, and refuse to let her enter the house. It was the
+     crowning piece of barbarism to a long course of jealous cruelties.
+     Mrs. Martival spent that night with some friends, and seems even
+     then to have hesitated for a long time. Her married life had been
+     one long disappointment, and this brutal action of her husband had
+     ended it. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was madly in love with her, and she
+     was one of those women who must be loved. In the end she ran away
+     with him, which seemed a very natural thing for her to do.
+
+     "The queerest part of it is to come, though. Sir Geoffrey was
+     devoted to her, and would have married her at once if Mr. Martival
+     would have sued for a divorce. He showed her every kindness, and he
+     lavished his money and his love upon her. But it seems that she
+     was a devout Roman Catholic, and the horror of what she had done
+     preyed upon her so, that in less than a month she left Sir
+     Geoffrey, and entered one of the lower sort of nunneries as a
+     menial. From there she went to the wars as a nurse, and did a great
+     deal of good. When she returned, of all places in the world she
+     came back to the Villa Fiorlessa, partly from a curious notion of
+     penance, that she might be continually reminded of her sin. The
+     queerest part of it is, however, that the people round here behaved
+     like real Christians, and jolly different to what they would have
+     done at home. They knew all her history, and they welcomed her back
+     as though that month in her life had never been. That's what I call
+     charity, real charity, dad! Don't know what you think about it.
+     Well, there she's lived ever since with her sister, who had lots of
+     money (she died last year), and the poor people all around just
+     worshipped them.
+
+     "Now, to go back a bit. Mr. Martival, although he had been such
+     a brute to his wife, no sooner found out that she was with Sir
+     Geoffrey Kynaston than he swore the most horrible oaths of
+     vengeance, and went off after them. He was brought back in a fever,
+     with a pistol shot in his leg, which served him d----d well right,
+     I think. No sooner was he better than he started off again in
+     pursuit, but Sir Geoffrey dodged him, and they never met. Meanwhile
+     the young cub, whom you will recognize as Mr. M----, had grown up,
+     and what must his father do when he returned but tell him as much
+     of the story as suited him, with the result that he too swore an
+     oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. Time goes on, and
+     Mr. Martival and his son both leave here. Mr. Martival is reported
+     to have died in Paris, his son goes to England, and is lost sight
+     of. We can, however, follow the story a little further. We can
+     follow it down to its last scene, and discover in the Mr. Brown who
+     had taken a small cottage near Sir Geoffrey's seat, within a week
+     of his return home, and whom soon afterwards we discover bending
+     over Sir Geoffrey's murdered body, the boy who, fired with what his
+     father had thundered into his ears as his mother's ruin, had sworn
+     that oath of vengeance against Sir Geoffrey.
+
+     "All this looks very simple, doesn't it? and I dare say, my dear
+     dad, you're wondering why I don't come straight away home, and
+     cause a sensation at Scotland Yard by clearing up the Kynaston
+     murder. Simply because that isn't quite my game. I didn't come over
+     here to collect evidence against Mr. M----, for I could have laid
+     my hand on plenty of that at home. There is something else at the
+     back of it all, which I can only see very dimly yet, but which will
+     come as a crasher, I can tell you, when it does come. At present I
+     won't say anything about this, only keep your eyes open and be
+     prepared. Ta-ta!
+
+    "Your obedient son,
+    "BEN.
+
+     "P.S. Don't worry about Xs. They won't come out of your pocket in
+     the long run, I can tell you.
+
+     "P.S. 2. Wednesday evening. Here's a pretty pickle! You remember
+     the artist I told you about. I'm d----d if he isn't a regular from
+     S.Y., and he's got his pocket-book pretty full, too. The game is
+     serious now and no mistake. Mind you, I think we stand to win
+     still, but I can't be quite sure while this chap's on the lay. Look
+     out for telegrams, and don't be surprised if I turn up at any
+     moment. It may come to a race between us. D----n, I wonder how he
+     got on the scent!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+A STRANGE TRIO OF PASSENGERS
+
+
+Before the open window of her room, looking out upon the fair wilderness
+below, and over its high stone walls to the dim distant line of hills
+vanishing in an ethereal mist, lay Mrs. Martival, and by her side stood
+Bernard Maddison, looking down into her white suffering face.
+
+Sorrow and time together had made strange havoc with its beauty, and yet
+the lines had been laid on with no harsh hand. There was a certain
+dignity which it had never lost, which indeed resigned and large-minded
+sadness only enhances, and her simple religious life had given a touch
+of spirituality to those thin, delicate features so exquisitely carved
+and moulded. The bloom had gone from her cheeks for ever, and their
+intense pallor was almost deathlike, matching very nearly her snow-white
+hair, but her eyes seemed to have retained much of their old power and
+sweetness, and the light which sometimes flashed in them lent her face a
+peculiar charm. But now they were full of a deep anxiety as she lay
+there, a restless disquiet which showed itself also in her nervously
+twitching fingers.
+
+Far away down the valley the little convent clock struck the hour, and
+at its sound she looked up at him.
+
+"You go at nine o'clock, Bernard?"
+
+"At nine o'clock, mother, unless you wish me to stay."
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"No, I shall be better alone. This thing will crush me into the grave,
+but death will be very welcome. Oh, my son, my son, that the sin of one
+weak woman should have given birth to all this misery!"
+
+He stooped over her, and held her thin fingers in his strong man's hand.
+
+"Do not trouble about it, mother," he said. "I can bear my share. Try
+and forget it."
+
+Her eyes flashed strangely, and her lips parted in a smile which was no
+smile.
+
+"Forget it! That is a strange speech, Bernard. Have I the power to
+beckon to those hills yonder, and bid them bow their everlasting heads?
+Can I put back the hand of time, and live my life over again? Even so
+futile is my power over memory. It is my penance, and I pray day and
+night for strength to bear it."
+
+Her voice died away with a little break, and there was silence. Soon she
+spoke again.
+
+"Tell me--something about her, Bernard."
+
+His face changed, but it was only a passing glow, almost as though one
+of those long level rays of sunlight had glanced for a moment across his
+features.
+
+"She is good and beautiful, and all that a woman should be," he
+whispered.
+
+"Does she know?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"She trusts me."
+
+"Then you will be happy?" she asked eagerly. "Happy even if the worst
+come! Time will wipe out the memory."
+
+He turned away with a dull sickening pain at his heart. The worst he had
+not told her. How could he? How could he add another to her sorrows by
+telling her of the peril in which he stood? How could he tell her what
+he suspected to be true--that in that quiet little Italian town English
+detectives were watching his every movement, and that at any moment he
+might be arrested? With her joyless life, and with this new misery
+closing around her, would it not be well for her to die?
+
+"It is farewell between us now, Bernard, then?" she said softly. "God
+grant that you may be going back to a new and happier life. May I, who
+have failed so utterly, give you just one word of advice?"
+
+He bowed his head, for just then he could not have spoken. She raised
+herself a little upon her couch, and felt for his hand.
+
+"Bernard, you are not as your father was," she said; "yet you, too, have
+something of the student in you. Don't think that I am going to say
+anything against learning and culture. It is a grand thing for a man to
+devote himself to; but, like everything else, in excess it has its
+dangers. Sometimes it makes a man gloomy and reserved, and averse to all
+change and society, and intolerant toward others. Bernard, it is bad for
+his wife then. A woman sets so much store by little things--her
+happiness is bound up in them. She is very, very human, and she wants to
+be loved, and considered, and feel herself a great part in her husband's
+life and thoughts. And if it is all denied to her, what is she to do? Of
+necessity she must be miserable. A man should never let his wife feel
+that she is shut out from any one of his great interests. He should
+never let those little mutual ties which once held them together grow
+weak, and fancy because he is living amongst the ghosts of great
+thoughts that little human responsibilities have no claim upon him.
+Bernard, you will remember all this!"
+
+"Every word, mother," he answered. "Helen would thank you if she had
+been here."
+
+A horn sounded from outside, and he drew out his watch hastily.
+
+"The diligence, mother!" he exclaimed; "I must go."
+
+He took her frail form up into his arms, and kissed her.
+
+"If all goes well," he said in a low tone, "I will bring her to you."
+
+"If she will come, I shall die happy," she murmured. "But not against
+her will or without knowing all. Farewell!"
+
+That night three men were racing home to England as fast as express
+train and steamer could bear them. One was Bernard Maddison, another Mr.
+Benjamin Levy, and the third his artist friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+VISITORS FOR MR. BERNARD MADDISON
+
+
+In an ordinary case, with three men starting from a given point in North
+Italy at the same time, the odds seem in favor of their all reaching
+their destination at the same time. As it happened, however, there was
+another factor to be considered, which had its due result. Bernard
+Maddison was rather more at home on Continental railroads than he was on
+English ones, whereas neither of the other two had ever before left
+their own country save under the wing of "Cook." The consequence was
+that by the aid of sundry little man[oe]uvres, which completely puzzled
+his would-be companions, Bernard Maddison stood on the platform of
+Waterloo while they were still in the throes of seasickness. As a
+further consequence two telegrams were dispatched from Ostend, and were
+duly delivered in England. The first was from Benjamin Levy to his
+father.
+
+     "Meet all boat trains at Waterloo, and try to recognize B. M. King
+     will do to shadow. Ascertain Miss Thurwell's address. Home early
+     to-morrow."
+
+The second was from his acquaintance, the artist, to Scotland Yard.
+
+     "Bernard Maddison ahead of us. Meet all trains. Tall, dark, thin,
+     pale, brown check traveling ulster. Photograph for sale in Regent
+     Street if can get to shop."
+
+Both telegrams were conscientiously attended to, and when Bernard
+Maddison drove out of the station his hansom was followed by two others.
+There was nothing very suspicious about his movements. First of all he
+was set down at his club, which meant a wait of an hour and a half for
+his watchers. At the end of that time he reappeared with all the traces
+of his journey effaced, and in a fresh suit of clothes, carrying now a
+smaller portmanteau. He lit a cigarette, and sent for a hansom. This
+time he was set down at King's Cross, and took a ticket for a small town
+on the Yorkshire coast. Hereupon the employee of Messrs. Levy & Son
+retired, having ascertained all that he was required to ascertain. The
+other myrmidon, however, having dispatched his subordinate to
+headquarters with particulars of his destination, took up the chase.
+
+It was late in the afternoon before they reached their journey's end,
+but Bernard Maddison was quite unconscious of any fatigue, and marching
+straight out of the station, turned toward Mallory. The man who was
+following him, however, hired a carriage, and drove down to the hotel.
+He knew quite well where the other was going to, and as nothing could be
+done that night, he determined to enjoy as much as he could of his
+seaside trip, and, after making up for his day's fasting by a
+satisfactory tea, he spent the evening on the jetty listening to the
+town brass band.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That was a strange walk for Bernard Maddison. Two sensations were
+struggling within him for the mastery, fear and despair at the terrible
+crisis which seemed to yawn before his feet, and that sweet revolution
+of feeling, that intense, yearning love, which had suddenly thrown a
+golden halo over his cold barren life. But as he left the road and took
+the moorland path along the cliff, the battle suddenly came to an end.
+Before him stretched the open moor, brilliant with coloring, with dark
+flushes of purple, and bright streaks of yellow gorse, and the sunlight
+glancing upon the hills. There was the pleasant murmuring of the sea in
+his ears, a glistening, dancing, silver sea, the blue sky above, and the
+fresh strong breeze full of vigorous, bracing life. Something of a glad
+recklessness stole over him and lightened his heart. This was no scene,
+no hour for sad thoughts. Where was the philosophy of nursing such, of
+giving them a home even for a moment? Joy and sorrow, what were they but
+abstract states of the mind? Let him wait until the ashes were between
+his teeth. The future and the past no man could command, but the present
+was his own. He would claim it. He would drink deep of the joy which lay
+before him.
+
+And as he walked on over the soft springy turf, with the tall chimneys
+of Thurwell Court in the valley before him, life leaped madly through
+his veins, and a deep joy held memory in a torpor, and filled his heart
+with gladness. The whole passionate side of his nature had been suddenly
+quickened into life by his surroundings, and by the thought that down
+yonder the woman whom he loved was waiting for him. Once again, come
+what may, he would hold her in his arms and hear her voice tremble with
+joy at his return. Once more he would hold her face up to his, and look
+into her dim, soft eyes, full of that glowing lovelight which none can
+fail to read. Once again he would drink deep of this delicious
+happiness, a long sweet draught, and if life ended after that moment he
+would at least have touched the limits of all earthly joys.
+
+And suddenly he stood face to face with her. He had passed Falcon's
+Nest, dismantled and desolate, with scarcely a careless glance, and had
+entered the long pine grove which fringed the cliff side. Already he was
+close to the spot where they had stood once before, and with all the
+subtle sweetness of those memories stealing in upon him he had turned
+aside to look through the tree tops down into the sea, as they had done
+together. Thus he was standing when he heard light firm footsteps close
+at hand, and a little surprised cry which rang in his ears like music,
+for it was her voice.
+
+They stood face to face, their hands clasped. In that first moment of
+tremulous joy neither of them spoke. Each was struggling for
+realization, for even an inward expression of the ecstasy of this
+meeting. For them there was a new glory in the sunny heavens, a new
+beauty in the glistening sea and the softly waving pine trees, even in
+the air they breathed. The intensity of this joy filled their hearts,
+their fancy, their imagination. Everything was crowned with a soft
+golden light; new springs of feeling leaped up within them, bringing
+glowing revelations of such delight as mocked expression. For them only
+at that moment the sun shone, and the summer winds whispered in the
+trees, and the birds sang. The world was theirs, or rather a new one of
+their own creation. The past and the future emptied their joys into the
+overflowing bowl of the present. Life stood still for them. There was no
+horizon, no background. Oh, it is a great thing, the greatest thing upon
+this earth, to love and be loved!
+
+Each dreaded speech. It seemed as though a single word must drag them
+down from a new heaven to an old earth. Yet those murmured passionate
+words of his, as he drew her softly into his arms, and her head sank
+upon his shoulder--they were scarcely words. And then again there was
+silence.
+
+It lasted long. It seemed to him that it might have lasted forever. But
+the sun went down behind the hills, and a dusky twilight stole down upon
+the earth. Then she spoke.
+
+"My love, my love! you must listen to me. I have a confession to make."
+
+"A confession? You!" he echoed.
+
+Her cheeks burned with a fire which seemed to her like the fire of
+shame. Her tongue seemed hung with sudden weights. She had doubted him.
+The hideousness of it oppressed her like a nightmare; yet her voice did
+not falter.
+
+"You remember those dying words of Rachel Kynaston?"
+
+"I have never forgotten them," he answered simply.
+
+"They laid a charge upon me. I told myself that it was a sacred charge.
+Listen, my love--listen, and hate me! I have been to detectives. I paid
+them money to hunt you down; I have done this, I who love you. No, don't
+draw your arms away. I have done this. It was before I knew. Oh, I have
+suffered! God! how I have suffered! It has been an agony to me. You will
+forgive me! I will not let you go unless you forgive me."
+
+He looked down at her in silence. His cheeks were pale and his eyes were
+grave. Yet there was no anger.
+
+"I will forgive you, Helen," he whispered--"nay, there is nothing to
+forgive. Only tell me this: you do not doubt me now?"
+
+"Never again!" she cried passionately. "God forgive me that I have ever
+doubted you! It is like a horrible dream to me; but it lies far behind,
+and the morning has come."
+
+He kissed her once more and opened his arms. With a low happy laugh she
+shook her tumbled hair straight, and hand in hand they walked slowly
+away.
+
+"You have been long gone," she whispered reproachfully.
+
+He sighed as he answered her. How long might not his next absence be!
+
+"It has seemed as long to me as to you, sweetheart," he said. "Every
+moment away from you I have counted as a lost moment in my life."
+
+"That is very pretty," she answered. "And now you are here, are you
+going to stay?"
+
+"Until the end," he said solemnly. "You know, Helen, that I am in deadly
+peril. The means of averting it which I went abroad to seek, I could not
+use."
+
+She thought of those letters, bought and safely burnt, and she pressed
+his fingers. She would tell him of them presently.
+
+"They shall not take you from me, Bernard, now," she said softly. "Kiss
+me again, dear."
+
+He stooped and took her happy upturned face with its crown of wavy
+golden hair between his hands, looking fondly down at her. The thought
+of all that he might so soon lose swept in upon him with a sickening
+agony, and he turned away with trembling lips and dim eyes.
+
+"God grant that they may not!" he cried passionately. "If it were to
+come now, how could I bear it to the end?"
+
+They walked on in silence. Then she who had, or thought she had, so much
+more reason to be hopeful than he, dashed the tears away from her eyes,
+and talked hopefully. They would not dare to lay a finger upon Bernard
+Maddison, whatever they might have done to poor Mr. Brown. His great
+name would protect him from suspicion. And as he listened to her he had
+not the heart to tell her of the men who had followed him abroad, that
+he was even then doubtless under surveillance. He let her talk on, and
+feigned to share her hopefulness.
+
+The time came when they passed into the grounds of the Court, and then
+she thought of something else which she must say to him.
+
+"We have a visitor, Bernard--only one; but I'm afraid you don't like
+him."
+
+Something told him who it was. He stopped short in the path.
+
+"Not Sir Allan Beaumerville?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Yes. I'm so sorry. He invited himself; and there is something I must
+tell you about him."
+
+His first instinct was to refuse to go on, but it was gone in a moment,
+after one glance into Helen's troubled face.
+
+"Don't look so ashamed," he said, smiling faintly. "I'm not afraid of
+him. What is it you were going to tell me about him?"
+
+"He went out the other day alone, to do some botanizing," she said. "Do
+you know where I saw him?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"No. Where?"
+
+"In your cottage. I saw him sitting at your table, and I saw him come
+out. He looked terribly troubled, just as though he had found out
+something."
+
+He seemed in no wise so much disturbed as she had feared.
+
+"It's astonishing how many people are interested in my affairs," he said
+with grim lightness.
+
+"No one so much as I am," she whispered softly. "Bernard, I must tell
+you something about papa. I had almost forgotten."
+
+"Yes. Has he been exercising a landlord's privilege, too?"
+
+"Of course not, sir. But, Bernard, people have been talking, and he has
+heard them, and----"
+
+Her face grew troubled, and he stood still.
+
+"He suspects, too, does he? Then I certainly cannot force him to become
+my host."
+
+She took hold of both of his hands, and looked up at him pleadingly.
+
+"Don't be stupid, Bernard, dear, please. I didn't say that he suspected.
+Only people have been talking, and of course it leaves an impression.
+You must make friends with him, you know. Won't you have something to
+ask him--some day--perhaps?"
+
+She turned away, blushing a little, and he was conquered.
+
+"Very well, love, I will come then," he said. "Only, please, you must go
+and tell him directly we get there; and if he would rather not have me
+for a guest, you must come and let me know. I will sit at no man's table
+under protest," he added, with a sudden flush of pride.
+
+"He'll be very pleased to have you," she said simply. "A few words from
+me will be quite enough."
+
+"Your empire extends further than over my heart, I see," he said,
+laughing. "There is your father coming round from the stables. Suppose
+we go to him."
+
+They met him face to face in the hall. When he saw who his daughter's
+companion was he looked for a moment grave. But he had all the courtly
+instincts of a gentleman of the old school, and though outside he might
+have acted differently, the man was under his own roof now, and must be
+treated as a guest. Besides, he had implicit faith in his daughter's
+judgment. So he held out his hand without hesitation.
+
+"Glad to see you, Mr. Maddison. We began to fear that you had deserted
+us," he said.
+
+"I have been away longer than I intended," Bernard Maddison answered
+quietly.
+
+"Of course you dine here," Mr. Thurwell continued, moving away. "You'll
+find Beaumerville in the library or the smoke room. You know your way
+about, don't you? My gamekeeper wants to speak to me for a moment. I
+shan't be long."
+
+He crossed the hall, and entered his own room. Helen slipped her arm
+through her lover's, and led him away in the opposite direction, down a
+long passage to the other end of the house.
+
+"Consider yourself highly favored, sir," she said, pausing with her hand
+upon one of the furthest doors. "You are the only male being, except my
+father, who has ever been admitted here."
+
+She led him into a daintily furnished morning room, full of all those
+trifling indications of a woman's constant presence which possesses for
+the man who loves her a peculiar and almost reverent interest. There
+was her fancy work lying where she had put it down on the little wicker
+table, a book with a paper knife in it, one of his own; by its side an
+open piano, with a little pile of songs on the stool, and a sleek
+dachshund blinking up at them from the hearthrug. The appointments of
+the room were simple enough, and yet everything seemed to speak of a
+culture, a refinement, and withal a dainty feminine charm which appealed
+to him both as an artist and a lover. She drew an easy chair to the
+fire, and when he was seated, came and stood over him.
+
+"I expect you to like my room, sir," she said softly. "Do you?"
+
+"It is like you," he answered; "it is perfect."
+
+They were together for half an hour, and then the dressing bell sounded.
+She jumped up at once from her little low chair by his side.
+
+"I must go and give orders about your room," she said. "Of course you
+will stop with us. I have made up my mind where to put you. Roberts
+shall come and take you to your room in a few moments."
+
+"Dressing will be a farce for me," he remarked. "I have no clothes."
+
+"Oh, we'll forgive you," she laughed. "Of course you were too anxious
+to get here to think about clothes. That was quite as it should be.
+Good-by! Don't be dull."
+
+He was alone only for a few minutes. Then a servant knocked at the door
+and took him to his room. He looked around him, and saw more evidences
+of her care for him. In the sitting room, which opened on one side, was
+a great bowl of freshly cut flowers, a pile of new books, and a
+photograph of herself. The rooms were the finest in the house. The oak
+paneled walls were hung with tapestry, and every piece of furniture was
+an antique curiosity. It was a bedchamber for a prince, and indeed a
+royal prince had once slept in the quaint high four-poster with its
+carved oak pillars and ancient hangings.
+
+To Bernard Maddison, as he strolled round and examined his surroundings,
+it all seemed like a dream--so delightful, that awakening was a thing to
+be dreaded indeed. The loud ringing of the second bell, however, soon
+brought him back to the immediate present. He hastily made such
+alterations in his toilet as were possible, and descended. In the hall
+he met Helen, who had changed her dress for a soft cream-colored dinner
+gown, and was waiting for him.
+
+"Do you like your room?" she asked.
+
+"Like it? It is perfect," he answered quietly. "I had no idea that
+Thurwell was so old. I like you, too," he added, glancing approvingly at
+her and taking her hand.
+
+"No time for compliments, sir," she said, laughing. "We must go into the
+drawing-room; Sir Allan is there alone."
+
+He followed her across the hall, and entered the room with her. Sir
+Allan, with his back to them, was seated at the piano, softly playing an
+air of Chopin's to himself. At the sound of the opening door, he turned
+round.
+
+"Sir Allan, you see we have found another visitor to take pity on us,"
+Helen said. "You know Mr. Maddison, don't you?"
+
+The music, which Sir Allan had been continuing with his right hand, came
+to a sudden end, and for the space of a few seconds he remained
+perfectly motionless. Then he rose and bowed slightly.
+
+"I have that pleasure," he said quietly. "Mr. Maddison is a neighbor of
+yours, is he not? I met him, you know, on a certain very melancholy
+occasion."
+
+"Will you go on playing?" she asked, sinking down on a low settee; "we
+should like to listen."
+
+He sat down again, and with half-closed eyes recommenced the air. Helen
+and Bernard Maddison, sitting side by side, spoke every now and then to
+one another in a low tone. There was no general conversation until Mr.
+Thurwell entered, and then dinner was announced almost immediately.
+
+There was no lack of conversation then. At first it had lain chiefly
+between Mr. Thurwell and Sir Allan Beaumerville, but catching a somewhat
+anxious glance from Helen, her lover suddenly threw off his silence.
+"When Maddison talks," one of his admirers had once said, "everyone else
+listens"; and if that was not quite so in the present case, it was
+simply because he had the art of drawing whoever he chose into the
+conversation, and making them appear far greater sharers in it than they
+really were. What was in truth a monologue seemed to be a brilliantly
+sustained conversation, in which Maddison himself was at once the
+promoter and the background. On his part there was not a single faulty
+phrase or unmusical expression. Every idea he sprang upon them was
+clothed in picturesque garb, and artistically conceived. It was the
+outpouring of a richly stored, cultured mind--the perfect expression of
+perfect matter.
+
+The talk had drifted toward Italy, and the art of the Renaissance. Mr.
+Thurwell had made some remark upon the picturesque beauties of some of
+the lesser-known towns in the north, and Bernard Maddison had taken up
+the theme with a new enthusiasm.
+
+"I am but just come back from such a one," he said. "I wonder if I could
+describe it."
+
+And he did describe it. He told them of the crumbling palaces, beautiful
+in their perfect Venetian architecture, but still more beautiful now in
+their slow, grand decay, in which was all the majesty of deep repose
+teeming with suggestions of past glories. He spoke of the still, clear
+air, the delicate tints of the softened landscape, the dark cool green
+of the olive trees, the green vineyards, and the dim blue hills. He
+tried to make them understand the sweet silence, the pastoral simplicity
+of the surrounding country, delicate and airy when the faint sunlight of
+early morning lay across its valleys and sloping vineyards, rich and
+drowsy and languorous when the full glow of midday or the scented
+darkness of the starlit night succeeded. Then he passed on to speak of
+that garden--the fairest wilderness it was possible to conceive--where
+the violets grew like weeds upon the moss-grown paths, and brilliant
+patches of wild geraniums mingled their perfume with the creamy clematis
+run wild, and the clustering japonica.
+
+"She who lives there," he went on more slowly, turning from Helen toward
+Sir Allan, "is in perfect accord with everything that is sweet and
+stately and picturesque in her surroundings. I see her now as she met me
+in the garden, and stretched out her hands to greet me. It is the face,
+the form of a martyr and an angel. She is tall, and her garb is one of
+stately simplicity. Her hair is white as snow, and the lines of her face
+are wasted with sorrow and physical decay. Yet there is sweetness and
+softness and light in her worn features--aye, and more almost than a
+human being's share of that exquisite spirituality which is the reward
+only of those who have triumphed over pain and suffering and sin. Guido
+would have given the world for such a face. Little does an artist think
+at what cost such an expression is won. Through the fires of shame and
+bitter wrong, of humiliation and heart-shattering agony, the human cross
+has fallen away, and the gold of her nature shines pure and refined. God
+grant to those who have wronged her, those at whose door her sin lies,
+as happy a deathbed as hers will be. Sir Allan, I am boring you, I fear.
+We will change the subject."
+
+"Not at all. I have been--very interested," Sir Allan answered in a low
+tone, pouring himself out a glass of wine, and raising it to lips as
+white as the camellia in his buttonhole.
+
+"We are all interested," Helen said softly. "Did you stay with her?"
+
+"For three days," he answered. "Then, because I could not bring myself
+to tell her the news which I had gone all that way to impart, I came
+away."
+
+There was a moment's silence. A servant who had just entered the room
+whispered in Mr. Thurwell's ear.
+
+"Two gentlemen wish to speak to you, Mr. Maddison," he said, repeating
+the message. "Where have you shown them, Roberts?--in the library?"
+
+"I wished to do so, sir," the man replied, "but----"
+
+He glanced over his shoulder. Every one looked toward the door. Just
+outside were two dark figures. To three people at the table the truth
+came like a flash.
+
+Sir Allan sat quite still, with his eyes fixed upon Bernard Maddison,
+who had risen to his feet, pale as death, with rigidly compressed lips,
+and nervously grasping his napkin. Helen, too, had risen, with a look of
+horror in her white face, and her eyes fastened upon her lover. Mr.
+Thurwell looked from one to the other, not comprehending the situation.
+The whole scene, the glittering table laden with flowers and wine, the
+wondering servant, the attitude and faces of the four people, and the
+dark figures outside, would have made a marvelous tableau.
+
+Suddenly the silence was broken by a low agonized cry. Helen had thrown
+her arms with a sudden impulsive gesture around her lover's neck.
+
+"My love, my love!" she cried, "it is I who have done this thing. They
+shall not take you from me--they shall not!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+ARRESTED
+
+
+As is often the case, the person most concerned in the culmination of
+this scene was apparently the least agitated, and the first to recover
+his self-possession. Gently loosening Helen's arms from around him,
+Bernard Maddison walked steadily toward the door, and confronted his
+visitors. One was his fellow-passenger from London, the other a tall,
+wiry-looking man, who was standing with his hat under his arm, and his
+hands in the pocket of a long traveling coat.
+
+"I am Bernard Maddison," he said quietly. "What is your business with
+me?"
+
+"I am sorry, sir, that it is rather unpleasant," the man answered,
+lowering his voice. "It is my duty to arrest you under this warrant,
+charging you with the murder of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of
+August last year. Please do not make any answer to the charge, as
+anything that is now said by you or anyone present, in connection with
+it, can be used in evidence against you."
+
+"I am ready to go with you at once," he answered. "The sooner we get
+away the better. I have no luggage here, so I do not need to make any
+preparations."
+
+He felt a hand on his arm, and turned round. Mr. Thurwell had recovered
+from his first stupefaction, and had come to his side. Close behind
+him, Sir Allan Beaumerville was standing, pale as death, and with a
+curious glitter in his eyes.
+
+"Maddison, what is this?" Mr. Thurwell asked gravely.
+
+"I am arrested on a charge of murdering Sir Geoffrey Kynaston at your
+shooting party last year," Bernard Maddison answered quietly. "I make no
+reply to the charge, save that I am not guilty. I am sorry that this
+should have occurred at your house. Had I received any intimation of it,
+I would not have come here. As it is, I can only express my regret."
+
+Although in some respects a plain man, there was a certain innate
+dignity of carriage and deportment which always distinguished Bernard
+Maddison among other men. Never had it been more apparent than at that
+moment. There was unconscious hauteur in his manner of meeting this
+awful charge, in his tone, and in the perfect calm of his demeanor,
+which was more powerful than any vehement protestations could have been.
+Mr. Thurwell had long had his doubts, and very uneasy doubts, concerning
+this matter, but at that moment he felt ashamed of them. He made up his
+mind on impulse, but what he said he meant and adhered to.
+
+"I believe you, Mr. Maddison," he said cordially, holding out his hand.
+"I think that the charge is absurd. In any case, please reckon me
+amongst your friends. If there is no one else whom you would prefer to
+see, I will go and get Dewes down from town in the morning."
+
+For the first time Bernard Maddison showed some slight sign of emotion.
+He took Mr. Thurwell's hand, but did not speak for a moment. Then, as
+they stood there in a little group, Helen glided up to them with a
+faint smile on her lips, and a strange look in her white face.
+
+"Father," she said, "thank God for those words!"
+
+Then she turned to her lover, and gave him both her hands, looking up at
+him through a mist of tears, but still with that ghostly smile upon her
+parted lips.
+
+"Bernard," she said softly, "you know that I have no doubts. You must go
+now, but it will not be for long. You will come back to us, and we shall
+be glad to see you. You need not trouble about me. See, I am quite calm.
+It is because I have no fear."
+
+He stooped and kissed her hands, but she held up her face.
+
+"Kiss me, Bernard," she said softly. "Father," she added, turning half
+round toward him, "I love him. We should have told you everything
+to-morrow."
+
+Mr. Thurwell bowed his head, and turned away to speak to the detectives,
+who had remained discreetly outside the door. Sir Allan returned to his
+seat, and poured himself out a glass of wine. For a moment they were all
+alone, and he held her hands tightly.
+
+"This will all come right, love," she whispered softly; "and it will
+make no difference, will it? Promise me that when it is over you will
+come straight to me. Promise me that, and I will be brave. If you do
+not, I shall break my heart."
+
+"Then I promise it," he answered, with a slight tremble in his voice.
+
+But looking at him anxiously, she was not satisfied. His white face,
+firm and resolute though it was, had a certain despair in it which
+chilled her. The hopefulness of her words seemed to have found no echo
+in his heart.
+
+"Dearest," she whispered, "it will all come right."
+
+His expression changed, but the effort of it was visible. His smile was
+forced, and his words, light though they were, troubled her.
+
+"We must hope so. Nay, it will come right, dear. Wish me good-by now, or
+rather, _au revoir_. My guardians will be getting impatient."
+
+They were virtually alone, and he drew from her lips one long,
+passionate kiss. Then, with a few cheerful words, he turned resolutely
+away. Mr. Thurwell, who had been waiting outside, came to him at once.
+
+"The brougham is at the door," he said, with an anxious glance at Helen,
+who was leaning back against a chair, her hands locked in one another,
+ghastly pale, and evidently on the point of fainting. "These men have
+only an open trap, and it is a cold drive across the moor. To-morrow you
+go to York to be brought before the magistrates. I shall be there."
+
+"You are very good," Bernard Maddison said earnestly; "but, so far as
+defence is concerned, I will have no lawyer's aid. What little there is
+to be said, I will say myself."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"It does not do," he said. "But there will be time to consider that. The
+magistrates will be sure to commit you for trial. They must have
+evidence enough for that, or Mr. Malcolm would never have signed the
+warrant against anyone in your position."
+
+"I am quite prepared for that," he answered. "Let us go."
+
+They left the room at once. Helen had fainted in her chair. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville had apparently disappeared.
+
+They stood on the doorstep for a moment while the carriage, which had
+been driven a little way down the avenue to quiet the mettlesome horses,
+returned, and Mr. Thurwell spoke a few more encouraging words.
+
+"Jenkins has packed some things of mine, which may be useful to you, in
+a portmanteau," he said. "You will find it in the carriage, and also an
+ulster. Keep up your spirits, Maddison. All will be well."
+
+"At any rate, I shall never forget your kindness," Bernard Maddison
+answered, grasping his hand. "Good-by, Mr. Thurwell!"
+
+"Good night, Maddison, good night! I shall see you to-morrow."
+
+The impatient horses leaped forward, and Mr. Thurwell turned back into
+the hall, and made his way back into the dining room. Helen had
+recovered sufficiently to be able to go to her room, he was told. Sir
+Allan was still sitting at the table, quietly sipping a cup of coffee.
+His legs were crossed, and he was smoking one of his favorite Egyptian
+cigarettes.
+
+"Has he gone?" he said, looking round languidly.
+
+Mr. Thurwell frowned. He was a man of somewhat imperturbable manners
+himself, but he was far from being unfeeling, and Sir Allan's silence
+and non-expression of any sympathy toward Bernard Maddison annoyed him
+not a little.
+
+"Yes, he's gone," he answered shortly. "I can't believe that there's
+the slightest vestige of truth in that ridiculous charge. The man is
+innocent; I'm sure of it."
+
+Sir Allan shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't believe he's guilty myself," he answered; "but one never
+knows."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+COMMITTED FOR TRIAL
+
+
+Early on the following morning Mr. Thurwell ordered his dog cart, and
+drove into Mallory. The arrest of Bernard Maddison had been kept quite
+secret, and nothing was known as yet of the news which was soon to throw
+the little town into a state of great excitement. But in the immediate
+vicinity of the courthouse there was already some stir. The lord
+lieutenant's carriage was drawn up outside, and there was an unusual
+muster of magistrates. As a rule the cases brought before their
+jurisdiction were trivial in the extreme, consisting chiefly of
+drunkenness, varied by an occasional petty assault. There was scarcely
+one of them who remembered having sat upon so serious a charge. Lord
+Lathon came over to Mr. Thurwell directly he entered the retiring room.
+
+"You have heard of this matter, I suppose?" he inquired, as they shook
+hands.
+
+"Yes," Mr. Thurwell answered gravely. "He was arrested at my house last
+night."
+
+"I can't believe the thing possible," Lord Lathon continued. "Still,
+from what I hear, we shall certainly have to send it for trial."
+
+"I am afraid you will," Mr. Thurwell answered. "I shall not sit myself;
+I am prejudiced."
+
+"In his favor or the reverse?" his lordship inquired.
+
+"In his favor, decidedly," Mr. Thurwell answered, passing out behind the
+others, and taking a seat in the body of the room.
+
+The general impatience was doomed to be aggravated. The first prisoner
+was an old man charged with assaulting his wife. The bench listened for
+a few minutes to her garrulous tale, and managed to gather from it that
+a caution from their worships was what she chiefly desired. Having
+arrived at this point, Lord Lathon ruthlessly stopped her, and dismissed
+the case, with a few stern words to the elderly reprobate, who departed
+muttering threats against his better half which, for her bodily comfort,
+it is to be hoped that he did not put into execution.
+
+Then there was a few minutes' expectation, at the conclusion of which
+Bernard Maddison was brought in between two policemen, very calm and
+self-possessed, but very pale. Directly he appeared Mr. Thurwell rose
+and shook hands with him, a friendly demonstration which brought a faint
+glow into his cheeks.
+
+He was offered a chair, and the services of the solicitor of the place,
+the latter of which he declined. Then the chief constable, a little
+flurried and nervous at the unwonted importance of his office, rose, and
+addressed the bench.
+
+The case against the prisoner was, he said, still altogether incomplete,
+and he had only one witness, whose evidence, however, he felt sure,
+would be such as to justify their sending the matter to be decided
+before a judicial tribunal. No doubt they all remembered the painful
+circumstances of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston's death, and the mystery with
+which it was surrounded. That death took place within a stone's throw of
+the cottage where the prisoner was then living, under an assumed name,
+and more than three miles away from any other dwelling place or refuge
+of any sort. He reminded them of the speedy search that had been made,
+and its extraordinary non-success. Under those circumstances a certain
+amount of suspicion naturally attached itself to the prisoner, and a
+search warrant was duly applied for, and duly carried out. At that time
+nothing suspicious was discovered, owing in some measure, he was bound
+to say, to the scrupulous delicacy with which the magistrate who had
+signed it--looking toward Mr. Thurwell--had insisted upon its being
+carried out. Subsequently, however, and acting upon later information,
+Detective Robson of Scotland Yard was appointed to look into the case,
+and the result of his investigation was the issuing of the warrant under
+which the prisoner stood charged with the murder of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. Their worships would hear the evidence of Detective Robson,
+who was now present.
+
+Detective Robson stepped forward, and was sworn. On the 15th of June
+last, he said, he searched the prisoner's cottage on the Thurwell Court
+estate. He there found in the secret recess of a cabinet, which had
+apparently not been opened for some time, a dagger, produced, in a case
+evidently intended to hold two, and which was an exact facsimile of the
+one, also produced, with which the murder was committed. He found also a
+towel, produced, which was stained with blood, and several letters. With
+regard to the towel, he here added, that in one corner of the room was
+fixed a small basin, and on the floor just beneath, covered over by a
+carpet, and bearing several signs of attempted obliteration, was a large
+blood stain. The woman who had cleaned the cottage prior to Mr.
+Maddison's occupation, was in court, and would swear that the stain in
+question was not there at that time. He mentioned these details first,
+he went on to say, but the more important part of his evidence had
+reference to these letters, and his subsequent action with regard to
+them. He would call attention to one of them, he remarked, producing it,
+and allow the bench to draw their own conclusions. He would read it to
+them, and they could then examine it for themselves.
+
+The thin rustling sheet of foreign notepaper, which he held in his hand,
+was covered closely with delicate feminine handwriting, and emitted a
+faint sweet perfume. For the first time during the hearing of the case
+Bernard Maddison showed some slight emotion as the letters were handed
+about. But he restrained it immediately.
+
+The sentence which Detective Robson read out was as follows:--
+
+     "Bernard, those who have sinned against their fellow creatures, and
+     against their God, may surely be left to His judgment. The
+     vengeance which seeks to take life is a cruel bloodthirsty passion
+     which no wrong can excuse, no suffering justify. Forgive me if I
+     seem to dwell so much upon this. That terrible oath which, at his
+     bidding, I heard you swear against Sir Geoffrey Kynaston rings ever
+     in my ears!"
+
+There were other sentences of a somewhat similar nature. As Mr. Thurwell
+listened to them he felt his heart sink. What could avail against such
+evidence as this?
+
+There was no hesitation at all on the part of the magistrates. Bernard
+Maddison had pleaded "not guilty," but had declined to say another
+word. "Anything there is to be said on my behalf," he remarked quietly,
+in answer to a question from the bench, "I will say myself to the jury
+before whom I presume you will send me."
+
+While the committal was being made out, Mr. Thurwell leaned over and
+whispered to him.
+
+"Helen sends her love. I will arrange about the defence, and will try
+and see you myself before the trial."
+
+"You need send no lawyer to me," he answered. "I shall defend myself."
+
+Mr. Thurwell said no more. He was a little dazed by those letters, but
+he was not going to allow himself to be influenced by them, for his
+daughter's sake, as well as his own. He did not like to admit himself in
+the wrong, and he had made up his mind that this man was innocent.
+Innocent he must therefore be proved. As to his defending himself, that
+was all nonsense. He would see to that. Dewes should be instructed.
+
+The committal was read out, and Bernard Maddison was removed from the
+court. On the following day he was to be taken to York, there to be
+tried at the forthcoming assizes. Mr. Thurwell bade him keep up his
+courage in a tone which, though it was intended to be cheerful, was not
+particularly sanguine. There was but one opinion in the court, and
+despite all his efforts its influence had a certain effect upon him. But
+Bernard Maddison never carried himself more proudly than when he bowed
+to Lord Lathon, and left the court that morning.
+
+At home Helen was eagerly waiting for the news. She had no need to ask,
+for her father's face was eloquent.
+
+"Is it--very bad?" she whispered.
+
+He looked away from her with a queer feeling in his throat. To see his
+daughter, who had always been so quiet, and self-contained, and
+dignified--his princess, he had been used to call her--to see her
+trembling with nervous fear, was a new and terrible thing to him, and to
+be able to offer her no comfort was worse still. But what could he say?
+
+"The evidence was rather bad," he admitted, "and only a portion of it
+was produced. Still, we must hope for the best."
+
+"Please tell me all about it," she begged, very quietly, but with a look
+in her white face which made him turn away from her with a groan. But he
+obeyed, and told her everything. And then there was a long silence.
+
+"How did he look?" she asked, after a while.
+
+"Very pale; but he behaved in a most dignified manner throughout," he
+told her. "He must be well born. I wonder what or where his people are?
+I never heard of any of them. Did you?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"He told me once that he had no friends, and no relations, and no name
+save the one which he had made for himself," she said. "I don't know
+whether he meant that Maddison was not his real name, or whether he
+meant simply his reputation."
+
+"There must be people in London who know all about him," Mr. Thurwell
+remarked. "A man of his celebrity can scarcely conceal his family
+history."
+
+Helen had walked a little away, and was standing before the window,
+looking out with listless eyes.
+
+"Father, I wonder whether Sir Allan Beaumerville has anything to do with
+this?" she said. "Has he ever hinted to you that he suspected Mr.
+Maddison?"
+
+"Certainly not," he answered. "Why do you ask?"
+
+"Because one afternoon last week I saw him come out of Falcon's Nest. It
+was the afternoon he went botanizing."
+
+Mr. Thurwell shook his head.
+
+"The detective mentioned the date of his visit and search," he said. "It
+was a month ago."
+
+She wrung her hands, and turned away in despair.
+
+"It must have been through those dreadful people I went to," she sobbed.
+"Oh, I was mad--mad!"
+
+"I scarcely think that," Mr. Thurwell said thoughtfully. "They would not
+have kept altogether in the background and let Scotland Yard take the
+lead, if it had been so. What is it, Roberts?"
+
+The servant had entered bearing an orange-colored envelope on a salver,
+which he carried towards Helen.
+
+"A telegram for Miss Thurwell, sir," he said.
+
+She took it and tore it open. It was from the Strand, London, and the
+color streamed into her cheeks as she read it aloud.
+
+     "We must see you at once in the interests of B. M. Can you call on
+     us to-morrow morning? Levy & Son."
+
+"When are the assizes at York, father?" she asked quickly.
+
+"In ten days."
+
+"And you are going to London to-day, are you not, to see Dewes?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I will go with you," she said, crumpling up the telegram in her
+hand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+MR. LEVY PROMISES TO DO HIS BEST
+
+
+Once more Mr. Benjamin Levy trod the pavement of Piccadilly and the
+Strand, and was welcomed back again amongst his set with acclamations
+and many noisy greetings. One more unit was added to the vast army of
+London youth who pass their time in the fascinating but ignominious
+occupation of aping the "man about town" in a very small way. And
+Benjamin Levy, strange to say, was happy, for the life suited him
+exactly. He had brains and money enough to be regarded, in a certain
+measure, as one of their leaders, and to be looked up to as a power
+amongst them, and it was a weakness of his disposition that he preferred
+this to being a nonentity of a higher type.
+
+Certain of his particular cronies had organized a small supper at a
+middle-class restaurant on the previous night in honor of his return,
+and as a natural consequence Mr. Benjamin Levy walked down the Strand at
+about half-past ten on the following morning, on his way to the office,
+a little paler than usual, and with a suspicion of a "head." It would
+have suited him very much better to have remained in bed for an hour or
+two, and risen towards afternoon; but business was business, and it must
+be attended to. So he tried to banish the effects of the bad champagne
+imbibed on the previous night with a stiff glass of brandy and soda, and
+lighting a fresh cigarette, turned off the Strand and made his way to
+the office.
+
+"Guv'nor in?" he inquired of the solitary clerk, a sharp-featured,
+Jewish-looking young man, who was sitting on a high stool with his hands
+in his pockets, apparently unburdened with stress of work.
+
+The youth nodded, and jerked his head backwards.
+
+"Something's up!" he remarked laconically; "he's on the rampage."
+
+Mr. Benjamin passed on without remark, and entered the inner office. It
+was easy indeed to see that something had gone wrong. Mr. Levy was
+walking restlessly up and down, with a newspaper in his hand, and
+muttering to himself in a disturbed manner. At his son's entrance he
+stopped short, and looked at him angrily.
+
+"Benjamin, my boy," he said, rustling the paper before his face, "you've
+been made a fool of. Scotland Yard have licked us!"
+
+Mr. Benjamin yawned, and tilted his hat on the back of his head.
+
+"What's up now, guv'nor?" he inquired.
+
+His father laid the paper flat on the desk before him, and pointed to
+one of the paragraphs with trembling fingers.
+
+"Read that! Read that!" he exclaimed.
+
+His obedient son glanced at it, and pushed the paper away in contempt.
+
+"Stale news," he remarked shortly.
+
+Mr. Levy looked at him amazed.
+
+"Maybe you knew all about it," he remarked a little sarcastically.
+
+"May be I did," was the cool reply.
+
+"And yet you have let them be beforehand with us!" Mr. Levy exclaimed
+angrily. "If this was to be done, why did we not do it?"
+
+"Because we've got a better game to play," answered the junior partner
+of the firm, with a hardly restrained air of triumph.
+
+Mr. Levy regarded his son with a look of astonishment, which speedily
+changed into one of admiration.
+
+"Is this true, Benjamin?" he asked. "But--but----"
+
+"But you don't understand," Benjamin interrupted impatiently. "Of course
+you don't. And you'll have to wait a bit for an explanation, too, for
+here's the very person I was expecting," he added, raising himself on
+his stool, and looking out of the window. "Now, father, just you sit
+quiet, and don't say a word," he went on quickly. "Leave it all to me;
+I'll pull the thing through."
+
+Mr. Levy had only time to express by a pantomimic sign his entire
+confidence in his son's diplomacy before Miss Thurwell was announced.
+She was shown in at once.
+
+"I had your telegram," she began hurriedly. "What does it mean? Can you
+do anything?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin placed a chair for her, and took up his favorite position
+on the hearthrug.
+
+"I hope so, Miss Thurwell," he said quietly. "First of all, of course
+you are aware that Mr. Maddison's arrest was as much of a surprise to us
+as to any one. We neither had any hand in it, nor should we have dreamed
+of taking any step of the sort."
+
+"I thought it could not be you," she answered. "How do you think it came
+about?"
+
+Mr. Levy, junior, shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Quite in the ordinary course," he answered. "So I should think. The
+police have never let the matter really drop, and I should imagine that
+he had been watched for some time. How it came to pass, however, it is
+not worth while discussing now. The question with you, I presume,
+is--can he be saved?"
+
+"Yes, that is it," Helen answered quietly, but with deep intensity. "Can
+he be saved? Do you know anything? Can you help?"
+
+Mr. Benjamin Levy cleared his throat, and appeared to reflect for a
+moment or two. Then he turned towards Helen, and commenced speaking
+earnestly.
+
+"Look here, Miss Thurwell," he said, "your interest in this matter is,
+of course, a personal one. Mine, on the other hand, is naturally a
+business one. You understand that?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Yes, I understand that," she said.
+
+"Let us put it on a business basis, then," he went on. "The question is,
+what will you give us to get Mr. Maddison off? That's putting it baldly;
+but we've no time to waste mincing matters."
+
+"I will give you one--two thousand pounds, if you can do it," she said,
+her voice trembling with eagerness. "Will that be enough?"
+
+"Two thousand five hundred--the five hundred for expenses," Mr. Benjamin
+said firmly. "Father, make out a paper, and Miss Thurwell will sign it."
+
+"At once," she answered, drawing off her glove. "Mr. Levy, you have some
+hope! You know something. Tell me about it, please," she begged.
+
+"Miss Thurwell," he said, "at present I can tell you no more than this.
+I really think that I shall be able in a short time to upset the whole
+case against Mr. Maddison. I can't tell you more at present. Let me
+have your address, and you shall hear from me."
+
+She had signed her name to the document which Mr. Levy had drawn up, and
+she now wrote her address. Mr. Benjamin copied the latter into his
+pocket-book, and prepared to show his visitor out.
+
+"I really don't think that you need be very anxious, Miss Thurwell," he
+said hopefully. "At present things look bad enough, but I think that
+when the time comes, I shall be able to throw a different light upon
+them."
+
+"Thank you," she answered, dropping her veil. "You will let me know
+immediately you have definite news?"
+
+"Immediately, Miss Thurwell. You may rely upon that. Good-morning!"
+
+He closed the door after her, and, returning to his seat, scribbled
+something on a piece of paper. Then he rang the bell.
+
+"Is Morrison about?" he asked the boy.
+
+"Been in and gone. Round at the Golden Sun, if wanted."
+
+"Take him this slip of paper," ordered Benjamin, "and tell him to keep a
+keen watch on the person whose name and address are there. Understand?"
+
+The boy nodded, and withdrew. Then Mr. Benjamin looked across at his
+father.
+
+"Well, guv'nor?" he remarked laconically.
+
+"Benjamin," his fond parent replied with enthusiasm, "you are indeed a
+jewel of a son."
+
+"I think I am," Benjamin replied modestly. "Come out and have a drink."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+BERNARD A PRISONER
+
+
+The arrest and committal of Bernard Maddison on a charge of murder
+created the most profound sensation in every circle of English society.
+His work, abstruse and scholarly though some of it was, had appealed to
+a great reading public, and had made his name like a household word.
+That long deep cry for a larger and sweeter culture which had been
+amongst the signs of this troubled generation, had found its most
+perfect and adequate expression in his works. He had been at once its
+interpreter and its guide. There were thoughtful men and women, a great
+mixed class, who, in their own minds, reckoned themselves as his
+apostles, and acknowledged no other intellectual master. Some were of
+the highest rank of society, others of the very lowest. It was a
+literary republic of which he had been the unacknowledged dictator,
+containing all those whose eyes had been in any way opened, who had felt
+stirring even faintly within them that instinct of mind-development and
+expansion to which his work seemed peculiarly fitted to minister. And
+so, although his career as an apostle of culture had been but a short
+one, he was already the leader of a school whose tenets it would have
+been a heresy to modern taste to doubt or question.
+
+The news of this tragical event, therefore, fell like a thunderbolt
+upon society, eclipsing every other topic in the newspapers, in
+conversation, and general interest. The first instinct of every one
+appeared to be to look upon the whole affair as a ludicrous piece of
+mismanagement on the part of the police, and Scotland Yard came in for a
+good deal of scathing criticism, as is usual in such cases. But when the
+evidence before the magistrates was carefully read, and sundry other
+little matters discussed, men's tongues began to run less glibly. Of
+course it was impossible that it could be true; and yet the evidence was
+certainly strong. In the country generally the first impulse of generous
+disbelief was followed by a period of pained and reserved expectancy. In
+clubdom, where neither fear of the devil nor love of God had yet been
+able to keep the modern man of the world from discussing freely any
+subject interesting to him, a gradual but sure reaction against the
+possibilities of his innocence set in.
+
+There were plenty of men about still who remembered Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and the peculiar manner of his life. During his long absence
+from England there had been many rumors about, concerning its reason,
+and now these were all suddenly revived. The breach of a certain
+commandment, a duel at Boulogne, and many other similar adventures were
+freely spoken of. After all, this story, improbable though it sounded,
+was far from impossible. It had always been reckoned a little mysterious
+that nothing whatever had been known of Bernard Maddison's antecedents,
+great though had been his fame, and assiduous his interviewers. As all
+these things began slowly to fit themselves together, men commenced to
+look grave, and to avoid the subject in the presence of their
+woman-kind, who were one and all unswerving in their loyalty to that
+dear, delightful Bernard Maddison, who had written those exquisite
+books. But in the smoking-room and among themselves views were gradually
+adopted which it would have been heresy to avow in the drawing-room.
+
+No man appeared to take less interest in the event and the discussion
+of it than Sir Allan Beaumerville. Known generally amongst his
+acquaintances as a cynic and pessimist, men were pretty sure what his
+opinion would be. But he never expressed it. Whenever he strolled up to
+any group in the smoking-room or library of the club, and found them
+discussing the Maddison murder case, he turned on his heel and walked
+another way. If it were broached in his presence it was the signal for
+his retirement, and any question concerning it he refused point-blank to
+answer. Gradually the idea sprang up, and began to circulate, that Sir
+Allan Beaumerville had formed an idea of his own concerning the Maddison
+murder, and that it was one which he intended to keep to himself. Every
+one was curious about it, but in the face of his reticence, no one cared
+to ask him what it was.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A plain whitewashed cell, with high bare walls and tiny window, through
+which the sunlight could only struggle faintly. Only one article of
+furniture which could justly be called such, a rude wooden bedstead, and
+seated on its end with folded arms and bent head, like a man in some
+sort of stupor, sat Bernard Maddison.
+
+He was in that most pitiable of all states, when merciless realization
+had driven before it all apathy, all lingering hope, all save that
+deadly cold sea of absolute, unutterable despair. There had been moments
+on his first arrival here, when he had fallen into a dozing sleep, and
+had leaped up from his hard bed, and had stretched up his hands above
+his head, and had called out in agony that it must be a dream, a hideous
+nightmare from which he would awaken only to look back upon it with
+horror. And then his glazed, fearful eyes had slowly taken in his
+surroundings--the stone walls, the cold floor, the barred window--and
+pitiless memory had dragged back his thoughts amongst the vivid horrors
+of the last forty-eight hours. It was all there, written in letters of
+fire. He shrunk back upon his mattress and buried his face in his hands,
+whilst every instinct of manliness fought against the sobs which seemed
+as though they would rend to pieces his very frame.
+
+Once more the morning light had come, and the burning agony of the hours
+of darkness was exchanged for the cold, crushing despair of the weary
+day. They had brought his breakfast, which he had loathed and left
+untasted. And then, as he sat there, so worn out with physical and
+mental exhaustion, something of a dull miserable apathy acted like opium
+on his wearied nerves and brain. He sat there thinking.
+
+The great passions of the world are either our sweetest happiness or
+our most utter misery. Not unfrequently the one becomes the other.
+Circumstances may change, but the force remains, sometimes, after
+yielding us the most exquisite pleasure, to lash us with scorpion-like
+whips. The love of Bernard Maddison had thrilled through heart and
+soul--it had become not a thing of his life, but his whole life. Every
+impulse and passion of his being had yielded itself up to it. Ambition,
+intellectual visions, imaginative fancies, all these had been not indeed
+driven out by this passion, but more fatal still, they had opened their
+arms to receive it, they had bidden it welcome, and heart and brain and
+imagination had glowed with a new significance and a new-born power. A
+lesser love would have had a lesser effect; it would have made rivals of
+these other parts of himself. Not so the love of Bernard Maddison. Every
+fiber of his deep, strong nature was strengthened and beautified by this
+new-kindled fire. At that moment, had he been free to write, he would
+have been conscious of a capacity beyond any which he had ever before
+possessed. For a great nature is perfected by a great love, as the
+blossoms of spring by the April showers and May sun. The dry dust of
+scholarship sometimes chokes up the well of fancy. The perfect humanity
+of love acts like a sweet, quickening impulse upon it, breathing sweet
+soft life into dry images, and rich coloring into pallid visions. Such
+love, which is at once spiritual and passionate, of heaven and of the
+earth, absorbing and concentrative, widening and narrowing, is to a
+man's nature, if he be strong enough to conceive and appreciate it, the
+very food, the essence of sublimated life.
+
+To Bernard Maddison it had been so. To its very depths he realized it as
+he sat in his prison cell with something of the deep passive resignation
+of the man who stands with one foot in the grave. The latter part of his
+life--nay, the whole of it--had been full of noble dreams and pure
+thoughts. His genius had never run riot over the whole face of nature,
+to yield its fruits in a sickly sweet realism with only faint flashes of
+his deeper power. Always subordinated by the innate and cultured
+healthiness of his mind, he had sent it forth a living power for good.
+Great joy had been his as he had watched his message to the world
+listened to, and understood, and appreciated. Another age might witness
+its fruits, it was sufficient for him that the seed was rightly planted.
+
+Oh, the horror of it--the burning, unspeakable horror! In his ears there
+seemed to come ringing from the world without the great hum of gossip
+and lies which were dragging his name down into hell. A murderer! The
+time might come when she too would think thus of him, when the tragedy
+of her first love might fade away, and the lovelight might flash again
+in her eyes, but not for him. He shook his head wildly, stretched out
+his hands as though to hide something from his quivering face, and
+barely suppressed the groan of deep agony which trembled on his lips.
+God in His mercy keep him from such thoughts! Death, disgrace,
+surpassing humiliation, let them float in their ghostly garments before
+his shuddering gaze, but keep that thought from him, for with it madness
+moved hand in hand. As Michael Angelo had stifled his grief at Vittoria
+Colonna's death, in the sweet hope of rejoining her as soon as the last
+lingering breath should leave his mortal body, and as Dante had hoped
+for his Beatrice, so let him think of the woman without whom no human
+life was possible for him, almost, he cried out in his agony, no
+spiritual hope or longing.
+
+The sound of the key in the lock of his door, and the tramp of footsteps
+on the stone floor outside, awoke him with a start from his
+half-dreaming state. The thought of visitors being permitted to come had
+never occurred to him, nor did it even then. The footsteps had paused
+outside his door, but he felt no interest in them, nor ever the vaguest
+stirrings of curiosity. Then the harsh lock was turned with a grating
+sound, and two figures, followed by the prison warder, entered the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+"THERE IS MY HAND. DARE YOU TAKE IT?"
+
+
+There is nothing which can transport one so quickly from thoughtland to
+acute and comprehensive realization, as the sound of a human voice or
+the consciousness of a human presence. Like a flash it all came back to
+the lonely occupant of the prison cell--the personal degradation of his
+position, his surroundings, and everything connected with them. And with
+it, too, came a strong, keen desire to bear himself like a man before
+her father.
+
+He rose to his feet, and the pitiful bareness of the place seemed to
+become suddenly enhanced by the quiet dignity of his demeanor. Out of
+the gloom Mr. Thurwell came forward with outstretched hand, followed by
+another gentleman--a stranger. Between the two men, that one long ray of
+sunlight lay across the stone floor, and as Bernard Maddison stepped
+forward to meet his visitor, it gleamed for a moment upon his white,
+haggard face, worn and stricken, yet retaining all that quiet force and
+delicacy of expression which seemed like the index of his inward life.
+It was the face of a poet, of a dreamer, a visionary perhaps--but a
+criminal! the thing seemed impossible.
+
+"This is very good of you, Mr. Thurwell," he said in a low but clear
+tone. "I scarcely expected that I should be permitted to see visitors."
+
+Mr. Thurwell grasped his hand, and held it for a moment without
+speaking. He had all an Englishman's reticence of speech in times of
+great emotion, and it seemed to him that there was nothing that he could
+say. But silence was very eloquent.
+
+"I have brought Mr. Dewes with me," he said at last. "He wants to see
+you about the defence, you know. The high sheriff's a friend of mine, so
+I got him to pass me in at the same time; but if you'd rather see Dewes
+alone, you'll say so, won't you?"
+
+There had been an acute nervous force working in Bernard Maddison's face
+during that brief silence. At Mr. Thurwell's words, a change came. He
+dropped his visitor's hand, and his features were still and cold as
+marble, and almost as expressionless, save for the lightly drawn lips,
+and lowered eyebrows, which gave to his expression a fixed look of
+power.
+
+"That is very kind and thoughtful of you, Mr. Thurwell, and I am sorry
+that you should have had the trouble to no purpose. I have nothing to
+add to my previous decision. I will not be represented by either lawyer
+or counsel."
+
+Mr. Dewes moved forward out of the background, and bowed. He was a
+handsome, middle-aged man, looking more like a cavalry officer than a
+solicitor. But, as everyone knew, so far as criminal cases were
+concerned, he was the cleverest lawyer in London.
+
+"You are relying upon your innocence, of course, Mr. Maddison," he said;
+"but it is a very great mistake to suppose that it will establish itself
+without extraneous aid. You will have the Attorney-General against you,
+and you must have some one of the same caliber on your side. The old
+saying, 'Truth will out,' does not apply in an assize court. It requires
+to be dragged out. I think you will do well to accept my services.
+Roberts holds himself open to take the brief for your defence, if I wire
+him before midday."
+
+"I seldom change my mind," Bernard Maddison said quietly. "In the
+present case I shall not do so. If it seems to me that there is anything
+which should be said on my behalf, I shall say it myself."
+
+There was a short silence. Mr. Dewes looked at Mr. Thurwell, and Mr.
+Thurwell looked both perplexed and worried.
+
+"Maddison, you must admit that yours is an extraordinary decision," he
+said at last. "You must forgive me if I ask you in plain words what your
+reason is for it. I ask as one who is willing to be your friend in this
+matter; and I ask you as Helen's father."
+
+A sudden spasm of pain passed across Bernard Maddison's face. He shrunk
+back a little, and when he spoke his voice sounded hollow and strained.
+
+"I do not deny you the right to ask--but I cannot tell you. Simply it is
+my will. It is best so. It must be so."
+
+"Can you not see, Mr. Maddison," the lawyer said quietly, "that to some
+people this will seem almost like a tacit admission of guilt?"
+
+"I shall plead 'not guilty,'" he answered in a low tone.
+
+"That will be looked upon only as a matter of form," Mr. Dewes remarked.
+"Mr. Maddison, I should not be doing my duty if I did not point out to
+you that the evidence against you is terribly strong. Just consider it
+yourself, only for a moment. Sir Geoffrey Kynaston is known to have
+seriously wronged a member of your family. You are known to have sworn
+an oath of vengeance against him. There are witnesses coming from
+abroad to prove that. Immediately on his return to his home you take a
+cottage, under an assumed name, close to his estate. He is found
+murdered close to that cottage, of which it seems that at that time you
+were the only occupant. You are the only person known to have been near
+the spot. The dagger is proved to be yours. Letters are found in your
+cabinet urging you to desist from your threatened vengeance. There is
+the stain of blood on the floor of your study, near the place where you
+would have washed your hands, and a blood-stained towel is found hidden
+in the room. All this and more can be proved, and unless you can throw a
+fresh light upon these things, there is no jury in the world that would
+not find you guilty. You hold your fate in your own hands."
+
+"I have considered all this," Bernard Maddison answered in a low tone.
+"I know that my case is almost hopeless, and I am prepared for the
+worst."
+
+Mr. Thurwell turned away, and walked to the furthermost corner of the
+apartment. For his daughter's sake, and for the sake of his own strong
+liking for this man, he had resolutely shut his eyes upon the damning
+chain of evidence against him. Now he felt that that he could do so no
+longer. Nothing but guilt could account for this strange reticence. He
+was forced to admit it at last. His compassion was still strong, but it
+was mingled with a great horror. He felt that he must get away as soon
+as possible.
+
+Mr. Dewes, who had all along had the most profound conviction of the
+guilt of the accused man seized his opportunity, and stepping close up
+to him, whispered in his ear:
+
+"Mr. Maddison, I should like to save you if I can. There have been
+cases--forgive me for suggesting it--in which, by knowing every
+circumstance and trifling detail connected with a crime, we have been
+able to build up a def----"
+
+Bernard Maddison drew himself up with a sudden hauteur, and raised his
+hand.
+
+"Stop, Mr. Dewes!" he said firmly. "I do not blame you for assuming what
+you do, but you are mistaken. I am not guilty. I do not ask you to
+believe it. I only ask you to bring this painful interview to an end."
+
+"We will go," said Mr. Thurwell, suddenly advancing from the other end
+of the cell. "I am not your judge, Bernard Maddison, and it is not for
+me to hold you guilty. God shall pass His own judgment upon you. There
+is my hand. Dare you take it?"
+
+For answer, Bernard Maddison stepped forward and clasped it in his own.
+Once more he had moved from out of the darkness, and a soft stream of
+sunshine fell upon his pallid face. White though it was, even to
+ghastliness, it betrayed no sign of blanching or fear, and his dark
+eyes, from their hollow depths, shone with a clear, steadfast light.
+Once more its calm spirituality, the effortless force which seemed to
+lurk in every line and feature of the pale wasted countenance, had its
+effect upon Mr. Thurwell. He wrung the hand which it had cost him a
+suppressed effort to take, and for the moment his doubts faded away.
+
+"God help you, Maddison!" he said fervently. "Shall I tell her anything
+from you?"
+
+A faint smile parted his tremulous lips. At that moment he was beyond
+earthly suffering. A sweet, strong power had filled his heart with
+peace.
+
+"Tell her not to grieve, and that I am innocent," he said softly.
+"Farewell!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+MR. BENJAMIN LEVY IS BUSY
+
+
+A woman stood on the little stone piazza of that Italian villa, with her
+face raised in agony to the blue sky, and her thin white hands wrung
+together with frantic nervous strength. Her whole attitude was full of
+the hopeless abandonment of a great tearless grief; and slowly dawning
+passion, long a stranger to her calm face, was creeping into her
+features. On the ground, spurned beneath her feet, was a long
+official-looking letter and envelope. A thunderbolt had flashed down
+upon the sweet stillness of her serene life.
+
+She was quite alone, and she looked out upon an unbroken solitude--that
+fair neglected garden with its high walls which seemed to give it an air
+of peculiar exclusiveness.
+
+"I will not go," she said, speaking quickly to herself in an odd, uneven
+tone. "The law of England shall not make me. I am an old woman. If they
+do, they cannot open my lips. I! to stand up in one of their courts, and
+tell the story of my shame, that they may listen and condemn my son. Oh,
+Bernard, Bernard, Bernard! The Lord have mercy upon you for this your
+crime! Mine was the sin. Mine should be the guilt. Oh, my God, my God!
+Is this just, in my old age, to pour down this fire of punishment upon
+my bowed head? Have I not suffered and done penance--ay, until I had
+even thought that I had won for myself peace and rest and forgiveness?
+Was it a sin to think so? Is this my punishment? Oh, Bernard, my son, my
+son! Let not the sin be his, O Lord. It is mine--mine only!"
+
+Sweet perfumes were floating upon the soft still air, and away on the
+hill sides the morning mists were rolling away. The sun's warmth fell
+upon the earth and the flowers, and birds and humming insects were glad.
+And in the midst of it all she stood there, a silent, stony figure,
+grief and anguish and despair written in her worn face. God was dealing
+very hardly with her, she cried in her agony. Truly sin was everlasting.
+
+"Signorina!"
+
+She turned round with a start. A servant girl stood by her side with a
+card on a salver.
+
+"A gentleman to see the signorina," she announced; "an English
+gentleman."
+
+The woman turned pale with fear, and her fingers trembled. She would not
+even glance at the name on the card.
+
+"Tell him that I see no one. I am ill. I will not see him, be his
+business what it may. Do you hear, child? Go and send him away."
+
+The girl curtsied and disappeared. Her mistress stepped back into the
+room, and listened fearfully. Soon there came what she had dreaded, the
+sound of an altercation. She could hear Nicolette protesting in her
+shrill _patois_, and a rather vulgar, but very determined English voice,
+vigorously asserting itself. Then there came the sound of something
+almost like a scuffle, and Nicolette came running in with red eyes.
+
+"Signorina, the brute, the brute!" she cried; "he will come in. He dared
+to lay his hands upon me. See, he is here! Oh, that Marco had been in
+the house! He should have beaten him, the dog, the coward, to oppose a
+woman's will by force!"
+
+While she had been sobbing out her complaint, her assailant had followed
+up his advantage, and Mr. Benjamin Levy, in a rather loud check suit,
+and with a cringing air, but with a certain dogged determination in his
+manner, appeared. Mrs. Martival turned to him with quiet dignity, but
+with flashing eyes.
+
+"Sir, by what right do you dare to enter my house by force, and against
+my command? I will not speak with you or know your business. I will have
+no communication with you."
+
+"Then your son will be hanged!" Mr. Benjamin said, with unaccustomed
+bluntness.
+
+Mrs. Martival trembled, and sank into a chair. Mr. Benjamin followed up
+his advantage.
+
+"I am not from the police. I have no connection with them. On the other
+hand, I am considerably interested in saving your son, and I tell you
+that I can put into your hands the means of doing so. Now, will you
+listen to me?"
+
+Something in Mrs. Martival's face checked him. The features had suddenly
+become rigid, and an ashy pallor had stolen over them. Nicolette, who
+had been lingering in the room, suddenly threw herself on her knees
+beside her mistress's side, and caught hold of her hands.
+
+"Oh, the wretch!" she cried, "the miserable wretch; he has killed my
+mistress!"
+
+He stood helplessly by while she ran backwards and forwards with cold
+water, smelling salts, and other restoratives, keeping up all the while
+a running fire of scathing comments upon his heartless conduct, of
+which, needless to say, he understood not a single word. Beneath his
+breath he cursed this unlucky fainting fit. He had already lost a day on
+the way, and the time was short. What if she were to be ill--too ill to
+be moved! The very thought made him restless and uneasy.
+
+In the midst of the confusion Mrs. Martival's housekeeper returned from
+her marketing in the little town, and to his relief he found that she
+understood English. He interrupted Nicolette's shrill torrents of abuse
+against him, and briefly explained the situation.
+
+"I do not wish to force myself upon her," he said. "I do not wish to be
+troublesome in any way. But when she is conscious, I want you just to
+show her half a dozen words which I will write on the back of a card.
+If, when she has read them, she still wishes me to go, I will do so
+without attempting to see her again."
+
+The woman nodded.
+
+"Very well," she said; "wait outside."
+
+He left the room and walked softly up and down the passage, eyeing with
+some contempt the rich faded curtains and quaint artistic furniture
+about the place, so unlike the gilded glories of his own taste. In about
+half an hour the housekeeper came out to him.
+
+"She is conscious now," she said; "give me your message."
+
+He gave her a card on which he had already penciled a few words, and
+waited, terribly anxious, for the result. The woman withdrew, and closed
+the door. For a moment there was silence. Then a wild, fierce cry rang
+out from the room and echoed through the house. Before it had died away
+the door was flung open, and she stood on the threshold, her white hair
+streaming down her back, and every vestige of color gone from her face.
+Her eyes, too, shone with a feverish glow which fascinated him.
+
+"Is it you who wrote this?" she cried, holding up the card clenched in
+her trembling fingers. "If you are a man, tell me, is it true?"
+
+"I believe it is," he answered. "In my own mind, I am certain that it
+is. You are the only person who can prove it. I want you to come to
+England with me."
+
+"I am ready," she said. "When can we start?"
+
+He looked at his watch.
+
+"I will be here in half an hour with a carriage," he said. "If we can
+get over the hills by midday, we shall catch the express."
+
+"Go, then," she said calmly; "I shall be waiting for you."
+
+He hurried away, and soon returned with a carriage from the inn. In less
+than an hour they had commenced their journey to England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was an early summer evening in Mayfair, and Sir Allan Beaumerville
+stood on the balcony of his bijou little house, for which he had lately
+deserted the more stately family mansion in Grosvenor Square. There was
+a soft pleasant stillness in the air, and a gentle rustling of green
+leaves among the trees. The streets below were almost blocked with
+streams of carriages and hansoms, for the season was not yet over, and
+it was fast approaching the fashionable dinner hour. Overhead, in
+somewhat curious contrast, the stars were shining in a deep cloudless
+sky, and a golden-horned moon hung down in the west.
+
+Sir Allan was himself dressed for the evening, with an orchid in his
+buttonhole, and a light overcoat on his arm. In the street, his night
+brougham, with its pair of great thoroughbred horses, stood waiting. Yet
+he made no movement toward it. He did not appear to be waiting for
+anyone, nor was he watching the brilliant throng passing westward. His
+eyes were fixed upon vacancy, and there was a certain steadfast, rapt
+look in them which altered his expression curiously. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville seldom used his powers of reflection save for practical
+purposes. Just then, however, he was departing from his usual custom.
+Strange ghosts of a strange past were flitting through his mind. Old
+passions, which had long lain undisturbed, were sweeping through him,
+old dreams were revived, old memories kindled once more smoldering
+fires, and aided at the resurrection of a former self. The cold
+man-of-the-world philosophy, which had ruled his life for many years,
+seemed suddenly conquered by this upheaval of a stormy past. Under the
+influence of the serene night, the starlit sky, and the force of these
+old memories, he seemed to realize more than he had ever done before the
+littleness of his life, its colorless egotism, the barrenness of its
+routine. Like a flash it stood glaringly out before him. Stripped of all
+its intellectual furbishing, the chill selfishness of the creed he had
+adopted struck home to his heart. A finite life, with a finite
+goal--annihilation! Had it really ever satisfied him? Could it satisfy
+anyone? A great weariness crept in upon him. Epicureanism could have
+been carried no further than he had carried it. He had steeped his
+senses in the most refined and voluptuous pleasures civilization had to
+offer him. Where was the afterglow? Was this all that remained? A palled
+appetite, a hungry heart, and a cold, chill despair! What comfort could
+his much-studied philosophy afford him? It had satisfied the brain; had
+it nothing to offer the heart? Something within him seemed to repeat the
+word with a grim echo. Nothing! nothing! nothing!
+
+What was it that caused his eyes to droop till they rested upon two
+figures on the opposite pavement? He could not tell whence the power,
+and yet he obeyed the impulse. They glanced over the man with
+indifference and met the woman's upturned gaize. And Sir Allan
+Beaumerville stood like a figure of stone, with a deathlike pallor in
+his marble face.
+
+The stream of carriages swept on, and the motley crowds of men and women
+passed on their way unnoticing. Little they knew that a tragedy was
+being played out before their very eyes. A few noticed that stately
+white-haired lady gazing strangely at the house across the way, and a
+few too saw the figure of the man on whom her eyes were bent. But no one
+could read what passed between them. That lay in their own hearts.
+
+Interruption came at last. Mr. Benjamin Levy's excitement mastered his
+patience. He asked the question which had been trembling on his lips.
+
+"Is it he?"
+
+She started, and laid her hand upon his shoulder for support. She was
+very much shaken.
+
+"Yes. See, he is beckoning. He wants me. I shall go to him. May God give
+me strength!"
+
+She moved forward to cross the road. He caught hold of her arm in sudden
+fear.
+
+"You mustn't think of it," he exclaimed. "You will spoil everything. I
+want you to come with me to--D--n! Come back, I say; come back! Curse
+the woman!"
+
+He stood on the pavement, fuming. She had glided from his grasp, and
+his words had fallen upon deaf ears. Already she was half across the
+road. The door of Sir Allan's house stood open, and a servant was
+hurrying down to meet her. At that moment Mr. Benjamin Levy felt
+distinctly ill-used.
+
+"D--d old fool!" he muttered to himself angrily. "Hi, hansom, Scotland
+Yard, and drive like blazes! The game's getting exciting, at any rate,"
+he added. "It was mine easy before that last move; now it's a blessed
+toss up which way it goes. Well, I'll back my luck. I rather reckon I
+stand to win still, if Miss Thurwell acts on the square."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+A STRANGE BIRTHDAY PARTY
+
+
+It was close upon midnight, and one of the oldest and most exclusive of
+West-end clubs was in a state of great bustle and excitement. Sir Allan
+Beaumerville was giving a supper party to his friends to celebrate his
+sixtieth birthday, and the guests were all assembled.
+
+Sir Allan himself was the last to arrive. The final touches had been
+given to the brilliantly decorated supper table, and the _chef_, who had
+done his best for the greatest connoisseur and the most liberal member
+in the club, had twice looked at his watch. As midnight struck, however,
+Sir Allan's great black horses turned into Pall Mall, and a few minutes
+later he was quietly welcoming his guests, and leading the way into the
+room which had been reserved for the occasion.
+
+As a rule men are not quick at noticing one another's looks, but
+to-night more than one person remarked upon a certain change in their
+host's appearance.
+
+"Beaumerville's getting quite the old man," remarked Lord Lathon, as he
+helped himself to an ortolan. "Looks jolly white about the gills
+to-night, doesn't he?"
+
+His neighbor, a barrister and wearer of the silk, adjusted his eyeglass
+and looked down the table.
+
+"Gad, he does!" he answered. "Looks as though he's had a shock."
+
+"Not at all in his usual form, at any rate," put in Mr. Thurwell, _sotto
+voce_, from the other side of the table.
+
+"Queer thing, but he seems to remind me of some one to-night," Lord
+Lathon remarked to the Home Secretary, who was on the other side. "Can't
+remember who it is, though. It's some fellow who's in a devil of a
+scrape, I know. Who the mischief is it?"
+
+"You mean Maddison, don't you?" Sir Philip Roden answered. "Plenty of
+people have noticed that. There is a likeness, certainly."
+
+"By Jove, there is, though!" Lord Lathon assented; "I never noticed it
+before. I'm devilish sorry for Maddison, Roden, and I hope you won't let
+them hang him."
+
+The conversation turned upon the Maddison case and became general.
+Everybody had something to say about it except Sir Allan. He himself, it
+was noticed, forbore to pass any opinion at all, and at the first
+opportunity he diverted the talk into another channel.
+
+The quality of his guests spoke volumes for the social position and
+popularity of their entertainer. Probably there were not half a dozen
+men in London who could have got together so brilliant and select an
+assembly. There were only twenty, but every man was a man of note.
+Politics were represented by the Home Secretary, Sir Philip Roden, and
+the First Lord of the Treasury; the peerage by the Duke of Leicester and
+the Earl of Lathon. There were two judges, and a half a dozen Q.C.'s,
+the most popular novelist of the day, and the most renowned physician. A
+prince might have entertained such a company with honor.
+
+It had been arranged that the advent of cigars should be the signal for
+the Duke of Leicester to rise and propose their host's health. But to
+the surprise of every one, whilst his grace was preparing for the
+ordeal, and was on the point of rising, Sir Allan himself slowly rose to
+his feet, with a look in his still, cold face so different from anything
+that might be expected of a man who rises at two o'clock in the morning
+after a capital supper to make a speech to his guests, that every one's
+attention was at once arrested.
+
+"I am given to understand, gentlemen," he said slowly, "that his grace
+the Duke of Leicester was about to propose my health on your behalf. I
+rise to prevent this for two reasons. First, because to a dying man such
+a toast could only be a mockery; the second reason will be sufficiently
+apparent when I have said what I have to say to you."
+
+Every one was stupefied. Had their host suddenly gone mad, or had those
+empty bottles of Heidseck which had just been removed from his end of
+the table anything to do with it? Several murmurs for an explanation
+arose.
+
+"I had forgotten for the moment," Sir Allan continued, "that none of you
+are yet aware of what I have only known myself during the last few days.
+I am suffering from acute heart disease, which may terminate fatally at
+any moment."
+
+A sudden awed gloom fell upon the party. Cigars were put down, and
+shocked glances exchanged. A murmur of condolence arose, but Sir Allan
+checked it with a little gesture.
+
+"I need scarcely say that I did not ask you to meet me here this evening
+to tell you this," he continued. "My object is a different one. I have a
+confession to make."
+
+The general bewilderment increased. The air of festivity was replaced
+by a dull restrained silence. Could it be that their host's illness had
+affected his brain? A painful impression to that effect had passed into
+the minds of more than one of them.
+
+"You will say, perhaps," Sir Allan continued, speaking very slowly, and
+with a certain difficulty in his articulation, which did not, however,
+prevent every word from being distinctly audible, "that I am choosing a
+strange time and place for making a personal statement. But I see
+amongst those who have done me the honor of becoming my guests to-night,
+men whom I should wish to know the whole truth from my own lips--I refer
+more particularly to you, Sir Philip Roden--and to-night is my last
+opportunity, for to-morrow all London will know my story, and I shall be
+banned forever from all converse and intercourse with my fellow-men.
+
+"Very few words will tell my story. Most of you will remember that I
+came into my title and fortune late in life. My youth was spent in
+comparative poverty abroad, sometimes practicing my profession,
+sometimes living merely as a student and an experimenting scientist. In
+my thirtieth year I married a woman of good family, with whom I was very
+much in love, so much so that in order to win her I forged a letter from
+the man whom she would otherwise have married, and obtained her consent
+in a fit of indignation at his supposed infidelity. That man, gentleman,
+was Sir Geoffrey Kynaston."
+
+There was a subdued murmur of astonishment. Every one's interest was
+suddenly redoubled. Sir Allan proceeded, standing at the head of the
+table, motionless as a statue, but with a strange look in his white
+face.
+
+"In every possible way I failed in my duty as a husband toward my wife.
+She was light-hearted, fond of change, gayety, travel. I shut her up in
+a quiet, old-fashioned town while I pursued my studies, and expected her
+to content herself with absolute solitude. For years I crushed the life
+out of her by withdrawing every interest and every amusement from her
+life. We had one child only, a son.
+
+"From bad, things grew to worse. What I had dreaded came to pass. She
+discovered my treachery. Still, she was faithful to me, but we were
+husband and wife in name only.
+
+"Time passed on, and she made a few friends, and went out occasionally.
+Then, who should come by accident to the little town where we lived but
+Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. I was madly, insanely jealous, and I forbade my
+wife to meet him. She declined to obey me, and she was quite right to do
+so. At that time she was as faithful to me as any woman could be, and
+she treated my suspicions, as they deserved to be treated, with
+contempt. Sir Geoffrey and she met as friends, and if it had not been
+for my brutality they would never have met in any other way.
+
+"One night there was a fete and dance in our little town. My wife went,
+against my orders, and Sir Geoffrey escorted her home. A demon of
+jealousy entered into my soul that night. Although all the time I knew
+that my wife was faithful to me, the worse half of my nature whispered
+to me that she was not, and, wretch that I was, I stooped to listen to
+it. When she returned I was mad with a fit of ungovernable rage. I shut
+my doors against her, and refused to allow her to enter my house. I
+taunted her with her infidelity. I bade her go to her lover. She went to
+some friends, and for two days she waited for a message from me. I sent
+none, and on the third day she left the place with Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. In less than a month she was in a convent, and from that day
+to this she has lived the life of a holy woman."
+
+There was a slight tremor in his voice for the first time, and he
+paused. The silence was profound. Everyone sat motionless. Everyone's
+eyes were fixed upon him. In a moment he continued.
+
+"Although by sheer brutality, by coarse insults and undeviating cruelty,
+I had driven my wife to the edge of the precipice, my rage against the
+man, whom I knew she had always loved, burned as fiercely as though he
+had won her from me by the cruelest means. I followed them to Vienna,
+and insulted him publicly. My wife left him on that very night, and he
+has never seen her since; but Sir Geoffrey and I fought on the sands
+near Boulogne, and I strove my utmost to kill him. Fortune was against
+me, however, and I was wounded. I returned to my home with my thirst for
+vengeance unabated. I taught my son to curse the name of Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston, and as soon as I had recovered from my wounds I hunted him all
+over Europe. Where he spent those years I cannot tell, but he eluded me.
+Often I reached a town only to learn that he had left it but a few days;
+once, I remember, at Belgrade, I was only a few hours behind him. But
+meet him face to face I could not.
+
+"When at last I saw my son again, I found him grown up, and in his first
+words he told me boldly that he had espoused his mother's cause, and
+that he withdrew altogether from his vow of vengeance against Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston. I left him in a fury, and almost immediately
+afterwards came the unexpected news of my accession to the baronetcy of
+Beaumerville. I made up my mind then to turn over the past chapter of my
+life, and start the world afresh. I had always been known by the family
+name of Martival, and my wife was unaware of my connection with the
+Beaumerville family. Taking advantage of this, I sent her false news of
+my death at Paris, and started life afresh as Sir Allan Beaumerville.
+
+"The past, however, soon began to cast its shadows into the future. A
+new author, calling himself Bernard Maddison, was one night introduced
+to me at a crowded assembly. I held out my hand, which he did not take,
+and recognized my son."
+
+There was a general start. The first gleam of light struggled into the
+minds of the little group of listeners. They began to see whither this
+thing was tending, and everyone looked very grave.
+
+"I had nothing to fear," Sir Allan continued. "My son showed by his
+looks the contempt in which he held me. We met frequently after that,
+but we never exchanged a single word. He kept my secret, too, from his
+mother--not for my sake, but for her own.
+
+"Six months after our first meeting Sir Geoffrey Kynaston returned to
+England. It may seem strange to you, gentlemen, but my hate for this man
+had never lessened, never decreased. The moment I heard the news I began
+to lay my plans.
+
+"Then, for the first time, my son sought me. He had come, he said, to
+make one request, and if I granted it, he would leave me in peace
+forever. Would I tell him that my oath had been buried with the old
+life, and that I would seek no harm to my old enemy? I simply declined
+to discuss the matter with him, and he went away.
+
+"From that time he commenced to watch me. I laid my plans deeply, but
+somehow he got to hear of them. When I went down on a visit to you, Lord
+Lathon, that I might be near Sir Geoffrey, he took a small cottage in
+the neighborhood, intending to do his best to counteract my schemes. But
+I was too cunning for him.
+
+"On the morning of Sir Geoffrey's murder I was on the cliffs, under the
+pretence of botanizing. While there I heard the guns of a shooting
+party, and through a field-glass I saw Mr. Thurwell and Sir Geoffrey
+Kynaston. At that time I scarcely thought that chance would bring Sir
+Geoffrey within my power, but I made up my mind to watch them.
+
+"Accordingly I descended from the cliffs, and, on my way, passed close
+to my son's cottage. I looked in at his sitting-room through the open
+windows, and it seemed as though the devil must have guided my eyes. His
+cabinet was open, and right opposite my eyes was a pair of long Turkish
+daggers carelessly thrown down with a heap of other curios. I listened.
+There was no one about. I stepped through the window, seized one of
+them, and hurried away. About a hundred yards from the cottage was a
+long narrow belt of plantation running from a considerable distance
+inland almost to the cliff side. Here I concealed myself, and looked out
+at the shooting party. I could see them all hurrying across the moor
+except Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. While I was wondering what had become of
+him, I heard footsteps on the other side of the plantation. I stole back
+to the edge and looked out. Coming slowly down by the side of the ditch
+was Sir Geoffrey, with his gun under his arm, and whistling softly to
+himself. He was alone. There was no one within sight. Gentlemen, it is
+an awful confession which I am making to you. I stole out upon him as
+he passed, and stabbed him to the heart, so that he died without a
+groan."
+
+Rembrandt might have found a worthy study in the faces of the men seated
+round that brilliant supper table. Blank horror seemed to hold them all
+speechless. Sir Allan, too, was trembling, and his hand, which rested
+upon the table, was as white as the damask cloth.
+
+Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and a waiter entered.
+
+"A gentleman wishes to speak with Sir Allan Beaumerville," he announced.
+
+Sir Philip Roden rose to his feet, and pointed to the door.
+
+"The gentleman must wait, Nillson," he answered. "Leave the room now,
+and see that we are not interrupted until I ring the bell."
+
+The servant bowed and withdrew, after a wondering glance at the faces of
+the little party. Sir Philip Roden left his seat and, crossing the room,
+locked the door.
+
+"Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly, "there can be only one course
+to take with regard to the painful disclosures which you have laid
+before us to-night. If you have anything to add, please let us hear it
+quickly."
+
+Sir Allan continued at once.
+
+"I went back to my son's cottage. I washed my hands in his room, and the
+towel I concealed in his cabinet. Just as I was leaving he entered. What
+passed between us I need not mention. I took up my botanizing case and
+hurried away along the cliffs, and afterward was met by Mr. Thurwell's
+servant, with whom I returned once more to look upon my work. Then came
+the time when suspicion commenced to fall upon my son. I implored him
+to leave the country. He refused. At last he was arrested. For the
+father whom he can only despise he has been willing to die. To-night I
+had made up my mind to leave a confession of my guilt and fly. My plans
+are changed. Only a few hours ago I looked into the face of one whom I
+had never thought to see again in this world. Her advice I am now
+following. To her care I entrusted my confession, and to your ears I
+have detailed it. My story is done, gentlemen. Sir Philip Roden, I place
+myself in your hands."
+
+His last words had been almost drowned by a clamorous knocking at the
+closed door. When he had ceased, Sir Philip Roden rose and opened it.
+Two men entered at once, followed by Mr. Benjamin Levy. The men
+recognized Sir Philip, and saluted.
+
+"What is your business?" he asked.
+
+"We hold a warrant for the arrest of Sir Allan Beaumerville, sir," was
+the respectful answer, "granted on the sworn information of Mr. Benjamin
+Levy there, by Mr. Pulsford, half an hour ago. Which is he, sir?"
+
+Sir Philip pointed to where his late host was standing a little away
+from the others, his hand resting on the carved knob of his high-backed
+chair, and his eyes fixed wildly upon them. The man advanced to him at
+once.
+
+"You are my prisoner, Sir Allan Beaumerville," he said quietly. "I hold
+a warrant here for your arrest on the charge of having murdered Sir
+Geoffrey Kynaston on the 12th of August of last year."
+
+Those who were watching Sir Allan's face closely saw only a slight
+change. Its deep pallor grew only a shade more livid, and there was a
+faint twitching of the features. Then with an awful light flashing into
+his burning eyes, and a cry which rang through the whole building, he
+threw up his arms and fell like a log across the hearth rug. Every one
+sprang up and crowded round him, but the physician pushed his way
+through the group and fell on his knees. He was up again in a moment,
+looking very pale and awed.
+
+"Keep back, gentlemen; keep back, please," he said in a low tone. "Never
+mind about the brandy, Sir Philip. Every one had better go away. These
+people from Scotland Yard need not wait. Sir Allan will answer for his
+crime at a higher court than ours."
+
+And so it indeed was. Tragical justice had herself added the last and
+final scene to the drama. Sir Allan Beaumerville's lips were closed for
+ever in this world.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+INNOCENT
+
+
+An hour or two before the _denouement_ of Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+supper party, his brougham had driven up to Mr. Thurwell's town house,
+and had set down a lady there. She had rung the bell and inquired for
+Miss Thurwell.
+
+The footman who answered the door looked dubious.
+
+"Miss Thurwell was in, certainly, but she was unwell and saw no
+visitors, and it was late. Could he take her name?"
+
+The lady handed him a note.
+
+"If you will take this to Miss Thurwell, and tell her that I am waiting,
+I think that she will see me," she said quietly.
+
+The man took it, and, somewhat impressed by the bearing and manner of
+speech of the unknown lady, he showed her into the morning-room, and
+ringing for Miss Thurwell's maid, handed her the note and awaited the
+decision. It was speedily given. The lady was to be shown to her room at
+once.
+
+The agonizing suspense in which Helen had been living for the last few
+days had laid a heavy hand upon her. Her cheeks were thin, and had been
+woefully pale until the sudden excitement of this visit had called up a
+faint hectic flush which had no kindred with the color of health. Her
+form, too, seemed to have shrunken, and the loose tea-gown which she
+wore enhanced the fragility of her appearance. She had been sitting in a
+low chair before the fire, with her head buried in her hands, but when
+her visitor was announced she was standing up with her dry, bright eyes
+eagerly fixed upon the woman who stood on the threshold. The door was
+closed, and they looked at one another for a moment in silence.
+
+To an artist, the figures of these two women, each so intensely
+interested in the other, and each possessed of a distinctive and
+impressive personality, would have been full of striking suggestions.
+Helen, in her loose gown of a soft dusky orange hue, and with no harsher
+light thrown upon her features than the subdued glow of a shaded lamp,
+and occasional flashes of the firelight which gleamed in her
+too-brilliant eyes, seemed to have lost none of her beauty. All her
+surroundings, too, went to enhance it: the delicately-toned richness of
+the coloring around, the faintly perfumed air, the indefinable
+suggestion of feminine daintiness, so apparent in all the appointments
+of the little chamber. From the semi-darkness of her position near the
+door Helen's visitor brought her eager scrutiny to an end. She advanced
+a little into the room and spoke.
+
+"You are Helen Thurwell?" she said softly. "Sir Allan Beaumerville has
+bidden me come to you. You have read his note?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I have read it," she answered quickly. "He tells me that you
+have news--news that concerns Bernard Maddison. Is it anything that will
+prove his innocence?"
+
+"It is already proved."
+
+Helen gave a great cry and sank into a low chair. She had no doubts;
+her visitor's tone and manner forbade them. But the tension of her
+feelings, strung to such a pitch of nervousness, gave way all at once.
+Her whole frame was shaken with passionate sobs. The burning agony of
+her grief was dissolved in melting tears.
+
+And the woman whose glad tidings had brought this change stood all the
+while patient and motionless. Once, when Helen had first yielded to her
+emotion, she had made a sudden movement forward, and a sweet,
+sympathetic light had flashed for a moment over her pale features. But
+something had seemed to restrain her, some chilling memory which had
+checked her first impulse, and made her resume her former attitude of
+quiet reserve. She stood there and waited. By and by Helen looked up and
+started to her feet.
+
+"I had almost forgotten; I am so sorry," she said. "Do sit down, please,
+and tell me everything, and who you are. You have brought me the best
+news I ever had in my life," she added with a little burst of gratitude.
+
+Her visitor remained standing--remained grave, silent, and unresponsive;
+yet there was nothing forbidding about her appearance. Looking into her
+soft gray eyes and face still beautiful, though wrinkled and colorless,
+Helen was conscious of a strange feeling of attraction toward her, a
+sort of unexplained affinity which women in trouble or distress often
+feel for one another, but which the sterner fiber of man's nature rarely
+admits of. She moved impulsively forward, and stretched out her hands in
+mute invitation, but there was no response. If anything, indeed, her
+visitor seemed to shrink a little away from her.
+
+"You ask me who I am," she said softly. "I am Sir Allan Beaumerville's
+wife; I am Bernard Maddison's mother."
+
+Helen sank back upon her chair, perfectly helpless. This thing was too
+much for her to grasp. She looked up at the woman who had spoken these
+marvelous words, half frightened, altogether bewildered.
+
+"You are Sir Allan Beaumerville's wife," she repeated slowly. "I do not
+understand; I never knew that he was married. And Bernard Maddison his
+son!"
+
+Helen sat quite still for a moment. Then light began to stream in upon
+her darkened understanding. Suddenly she sprang to her feet.
+
+"Who was it? then, who killed--Oh, my God, I see it all now. It was----"
+
+She ceased, and looked at her visitor with blanched cheeks. A low,
+tremulous cry of horror broke from Lady Beaumerville's white lips. Her
+calmness seemed gone. She was trembling from head to foot.
+
+"God help him! it was my husband who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston," she
+cried; "and the sin is on my head."
+
+Helen was scarcely less agitated. She caught hold of the edge of the
+table to steady herself. Her voice seemed to come from a great distance.
+
+"Sir Allan! I do not understand. Why did he do that horrible thing?"
+
+"Sir Geoffrey Kynaston and my husband were mortal enemies," answered
+Lady Beaumerville, her voice scarcely raised above a whisper. "Mine was
+the fault, mine the guilt. Alas! alas!"
+
+The stately head with its wealth of silvery white hair was buried in her
+hands. Her attitude, the agony which quivered in her tone dying away in
+her final expression of despair like chords of wild, sad music, and
+above all her likeness to the man she loved, appealed irresistibly to
+Helen. A great pity filled her heart. She passed her arm round Lady
+Beaumerville, and drew her on to the sofa.
+
+There were no words between them then. Only, after a while, Helen asked
+quietly:
+
+"Sir Allan--must he confess?"
+
+"It is already done," her visitor answered. "To-morrow the world will
+know his guilt and my shame. Ah," she cried, her voice suddenly
+changing, "I had forgotten. Turn your face away from me, Helen Thurwell,
+and listen."
+
+In the silence of the half-darkened chamber she told her story--told it
+in the low, humbled tone of saintly penitence, rising sometimes into
+passion and at others falling into an agonized whisper. She spoke of her
+girlhood, of the falsehood by which she had been cheated into a loveless
+marriage, and the utter misery which it had brought. Then she told her
+of her sin, committed in a moment of madness after her husband's brutal
+treatment, and so soon repented of. Lightly she touched upon her many
+years of solitary penance, her whole lifetime dedicated willingly and
+earnestly to the expiation of that dark stain, and of the coming to her
+quiet home of the awful news of Sir Geoffrey's murder. In her old age
+her sin had risen up against her, remorseless and unsatiated. Almost she
+had counted herself forgiven. Almost she had dared to hope that she
+might die in peace. But sin is everlasting, its punishment eternal.
+
+Here her voice died away in a sudden fit of weakness, as though the
+fierce consuming passion of her grief had eaten away all her strength.
+But in a moment or two she continued.
+
+"I thought my husband dead, and the sin my son's," she whispered. "They
+sent to me to come to his trial, that they might hear from my lips what
+they thought evidence against him. I would have died first. Then came a
+young man who told me all, and I came with him to England. I have seen
+and spoken with my husband. On his table he showed me signed papers. His
+confession was ready. 'This night,' he said, 'I take my leave of the
+world.' Thank God, he forgave me, and I him. We have stood hand-in-hand
+together, and the past between us is no more. He bade me come here, and
+I have come. I have seen the woman my son loves, and I am satisfied. Now
+I will go."
+
+Her eyes rested for a moment upon Helen, full of an inexpressible
+yearning, and there had been a faint, sad wistfulness in her tone. But
+when she had finished, she drew her cloak around her, and turned toward
+the door.
+
+Helen let her take a few steps, scarcely conscious of her intention.
+Then she sprang up, and laid her hand upon Lady Beaumerville's shoulder.
+
+"You are his mother," she said softly. "May I not be your daughter?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Helen, Helen, I have strange news for you!"
+
+The room was in semi-darkness, for the fire had burnt low and the
+heavily shaded lamp gave out but little light. Side by side on the low
+sofa, two women, hand-in-hand, had been sobbing out their grief to one
+another. On the threshold, peering with strained eyes through the gloom,
+was Mr. Thurwell, his light overcoat, hastily thrown over his evening
+clothes, still unremoved.
+
+She rose to her feet, and he saw the dim outline of her graceful figure,
+even a vision of her white, tear-stained face.
+
+"The truth has come out," he said gravely. "To-morrow Bernard will be
+free. The man who killed Sir Geoffrey Kynaston has confessed."
+
+"Confessed!" Helen repeated. "Where? To whom?"
+
+"To the Home Secretary, to a party of us as we sat at supper, his guests
+at the club. Helen, be prepared for a great surprise. The murderer was
+Sir Allan Beaumerville."
+
+"I know it," Helen whispered hoarsely across the room. "Have they
+arrested Sir Allan?"
+
+Mr. Thurwell's surprise at his daughter's knowledge was forgotten in the
+horror of the scene which her words had called up. Across the darkened
+air of the little chamber it seemed to float again before his shuddering
+memory, and he stretched out his hands for a moment before his face.
+
+"Arrested him--no!" he answered in an agitated tone. "I have seen
+nothing so awful in all my life. He made his confession at the head of
+his table, the police were clamoring outside with a warrant, and while
+we all sat dazed and stupefied, he fell backward--dead."
+
+A cry rang through the little chamber, a sudden wail, half of relief,
+half of anguish. Helen fell upon her knees by the side of the sofa. Mr.
+Thurwell started, and moved forward.
+
+"Who is that?" he asked quickly. "I thought you were alone."
+
+"It is his wife," Helen answered, not without some fear. "See, she has
+fainted."
+
+Mr. Thurwell hesitated only for a moment. Then his face filled with
+compassion.
+
+"God help her;" he said solemnly. "I will send the women up to you, and
+a doctor. God help her!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+AT LAST
+
+
+The morning sunlight lay upon that wonderful fair garden of the villa.
+The tall white lilies, the scarlet poppies, the clustering japonica, the
+purple hyacinths, and the untrimmed brilliantly-flowering shrubs, lifted
+their heads before its sweet, quickening warmth, and yielded up their
+perfume to the still clear air. The languorous hour of noon was still
+far off. It was the birth of a southern summer day, and everything was
+fresh and pure, untainted by the burning, enervating heat which was soon
+to dry up the sweetness from the earth, and the freshness from the
+slightly moving breeze. Away on the brown hills, fading into a
+transparent veil of blue, the bright dresses of the peasant women
+stooping at their toil, the purple glory of the vineyards, and the deep,
+quiet green of the olive groves--all these simple characteristics of the
+pastoral landscape were like brilliant patches of coloring upon a
+fitting background. Soon the haze of the noonday heat would hang upon
+the earth, deadening the purity of its color, and making the air heavy
+and oppressive with faint overladen perfumes. But as yet the sun lay low
+in the heavens, and the earth beneath was like a fair still picture.
+
+The heavy lumbering coach which connected the little town with the
+outside world was drawn up at the gate of the villa, and twice the
+quaintly sounding horn had broken the morning stillness. It was a moment
+of farewell, a farewell not for days or for years, but forever.
+
+Their words denied it, yet in their hearts was that certain conviction,
+and much of that peculiar sadness which it could not fail to bring. Yet
+she would not have them stay for the end. She had bidden them go, and
+the hour had come.
+
+Too weak to walk, or even sit upright, they had laid her upon a sofa in
+front of the open windows, through which the perfume from the garden
+below stole sweetly in on the bosom of the slowly stirring south wind.
+On one side of her stood a tall mild-faced priest from the brotherhood
+who had made their home in the valley below, on the other were Bernard
+and his wife, her son and daughter.
+
+There was no doubt that she was dying, that she was indeed very near
+death. Yet she was sending them away from her. The brief while they
+three had lived there together had been like a late autumn to her life,
+which had blossomed forth with sweet moments of happiness such as she
+had never dreamed of. And now her summons had come, and she was ready.
+In her last moments she must return once more to that absolute
+detachment from all save spiritual things in which for many years she
+had lived, a saintly, blessed woman. So she had bidden them go, even her
+son, even that fair sweet English girl who had been more than a daughter
+to her. She had bidden them go. The last words had been spoken, for the
+last time her trembling lips had been pressed to her son's. Yet they
+lingered.
+
+And there came of a sudden, floating through the window, the sweet slow
+chiming of the matins bell from the monastery below. Almost it seemed
+as though the soft delicate air through which it passed, the exquisite
+beauty of the sloping landscape and old garden over which it traveled,
+had had a rarefying influence upon the sound itself, and had mellowed
+its tones into a strain of the most perfect music throbbing with harmony
+and dying away in faint, delicious murmurs. They stood and listened to
+it, and a sudden light swept into the pale face upon the couch. They all
+looked at her in a sudden awe. The priest sank upon his knees by her
+side, and prayed. Long desired, it had come at last at this most fitting
+moment. The glory of death shone in her face, and the light of a coming
+release flashed across her features. She died as few can die, as one who
+sees descending from the clouds a long-promised happiness, and whose
+heart and soul go forth to meet it with joy.
+
+They stayed and buried her under a cypress tree, in a sunny corner of
+the monastery churchyard, where a plain black cross marked her grave.
+Then they turned their faces toward England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+And in England they were happy. For the first few years they chose to
+live almost in retirement at their stately home, for with no desire for
+notoriety, Sir Bernard Beaumerville found himself on his return from
+abroad the most famous man in London. To escape from the lionizing that
+threatened him, Helen and he shut themselves up at Beaumerville Court,
+and steadfastly refused all invitations. Of their life there little need
+be said, save that to each it was the perfect realization of dreams
+which had once seemed too sweet to be possible.
+
+And in the midst of it all he found time to write. From the quaint oak
+library, where he had gone back into the old realms of thoughtland, he
+sent out into the world a great work. Once more the columns of the daily
+papers and the reviews were busy with his name, and for once all were
+unanimous. All bowed down before his genius, and his name was written
+into the history of his generation. Through a burning sea of trouble, of
+intellectual disquiet and mental agony, he had emerged strengthened at
+every point. Love had fulfilled upon him its great office. He was
+humanized. The impersonality, which is the student's bane, which deepens
+into misanthropy, cynicism, and pessimism, yielded before it. The voices
+of his own children became dearer to him than the written thoughts of
+dead men. It was the reassertion of nature, and it was well for him. So
+was he saved, so was his genius unfettered from the cloying weight of
+too much abstract thought, which at one time, save for his artistic
+instincts, would have plunged him into the morass of pedantry and turned
+his genius into a pillar of salt. A woman had saved him, and through the
+long years of their life together he never forgot it.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The New Tenant, by E. Phillips Oppenheim
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