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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Arnott's Marriage, by Richard Marsh
+
+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: Miss Arnott's Marriage
+
+Author: Richard Marsh
+
+Release Date: November 9, 2011 [EBook #37963]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS ARNOTT'S MARRIAGE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+1. Page scan source:
+        http://books.google.com/books?id=NTQPAAAAQAAJ.
+
+2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                               Miss Arnott's
+                                               Marriage
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                    |-------------------------------|
+                    |      BY THE SAME AUTHOR       |
+                    |                               |
+                    |           *   *   *           |
+                    |                               |
+                    | CURIOS                        |
+                    | ADA VERNHAM, ACTRESS          |
+                    | MRS MUSGRAVE AND HER HUSBAND  |
+                    | THE MAGNETIC GIRL             |
+                    |                               |
+                    |           *   *   *           |
+                    |                               |
+                    | John Long, Publisher, London  |
+                    |_______________________________|
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Miss Arnott's Marriage
+
+
+
+
+                                   By
+                             Richard Marsh
+
+                      Author of "The Beetle," etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                 London
+                               John Long
+                 13 & 14 Norris Street, Haymarket
+                                  1904
+
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+
+      CHAP.
+
+         I. ROBERT CHAMPION'S WIFE.
+
+        II. THE WOMAN ON THE PAVEMENT.
+
+       III. THE HEIRESS ENTERS INTO HER OWN.
+
+        IV. THE EARL OF PECKHAM'S PROPOSAL.
+
+         V. TRESPASSING.
+
+        VI. AN AUTHORITY ON THE LAW OF MARRIAGE.
+
+       VII. MR MORICE PRESUMES.
+
+      VIII. THE LADY WANDERS.
+
+        IX. THE BEECH TREE.
+
+         X. THE TALE WHICH WAS TOLD.
+
+        XI. THE MAN ON THE FENCE.
+
+       XII. WHAT SHE HEARD, SAW AND FOUND.
+
+      XIII. AFTERWARDS.
+
+       XIV. ON THE HIGH ROAD.
+
+        XV. COOPER'S SPINNEY.
+
+       XVI. JIM BAKER.
+
+      XVII. INJURED INNOCENCE.
+
+     XVIII. AT THE FOUR CROSS ROADS.
+
+       XIX. THE BUTTONS OFF THE FOILS.
+
+        XX. THE SOLICITOR'S CLERK.
+
+       XXI. THE "NOTE".
+
+      XXII. ERNEST GILBERT.
+
+     XXIII. THE TWO MEN.
+
+      XXIV. THE SOMNAMBULIST.
+
+       XXV. HUGH MORICE EXPLAINS.
+
+      XXVI. THE TWO MAIDS.
+
+     XXVII. A CONFIDANT.
+
+    XXVIII. MRS DARCY SUTHERLAND.
+
+      XXIX. SOME PASSAGES OF ARMS.
+
+       XXX. MISS ARNOTT IS EXAMINED.
+
+      XXXI. THE TWO POLICEMEN.
+
+     XXXII. THE HOUSEMAID'S TALE.
+
+    XXXIII. ON HIS OWN CONFESSION.
+
+     XXXIV. MR DAY WALKS HOME.
+
+      XXXV. IN THE LADY'S CHAMBER.
+
+     XXXVI. OUT OF SLEEP.
+
+    XXXVII. WHAT WAS WRITTEN.
+
+   XXXVIII. MISS ARNOTT'S MARRIAGE.
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Miss Arnott's Marriage
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+
+                         ROBERT CHAMPION'S WIFE
+
+
+"Robert Champion, you are sentenced to twelve months' hard labour."
+
+As the chairman of the Sessions Court pronounced the words, the
+prisoner turned right round in the dock, and glanced towards where he
+knew his wife was standing. He caught her eye, and smiled. What
+meaning, if any, the smile conveyed, he perhaps knew. She could only
+guess. It was possibly intended to be a more careless, a more
+light-hearted smile than it in reality appeared. Robert Champion had
+probably not such complete control over his facial muscles as he would
+have desired. There was a hunted, anxious look about the eyes, a
+suggestion of uncomfortable pallor about the whole countenance which
+rather detracted from the impression which she had no doubt that he had
+intended to make. She knew the man well enough to be aware that nothing
+would please him better than that she should suppose that he regarded
+the whole proceedings with gay bravado, with complete indifference,
+both for the powers that were and for the punishment which they had
+meted out to him. But even if the expression on his face had not shown
+that the cur in the man had, for the moment, the upper hand, the
+unceremonious fashion in which the warders bundled him down the
+staircase, and out of sight, would have been sufficient to prevent any
+impression being left behind that he had departed from the scene in a
+halo of dignity.
+
+As regards his wife, the effect made upon her by the whole proceedings
+was an overwhelming consciousness of unbearable shame. When the man
+with the cheap good looks was hustled away, as if he were some inferior
+thing, the realisation that this was indeed her husband, was more than
+she could endure. She reached out with her hand, as if in search of
+some support, and, finding none, sank to the floor of the court in a
+swoon.
+
+"Poor dear!" said a woman, standing near. "I expect she's something to
+do with that scamp of a fellow--maybe she's his wife."
+
+"This sort of thing often is hardest on those who are left behind,"
+chimed in a man. "Sometimes it isn't those who are in prison who suffer
+most; it's those who are outside."
+
+When, having regained some of her senses, Violet Champion found herself
+in the street, she was inclined to call herself hard names for having
+gone near the court at all. She had only gone because she feared that
+if she stayed away she might not have learned how the thing had ended.
+This crime of which Robert Champion had been guilty was such a petty,
+such a paltry thing, that, so far as she knew, the earlier stages of
+the case had not been reported at all. One or other of the few score
+journals which London issues might have noticed it at some time,
+somewhere. If so, it had escaped her observation. Her knowledge of
+London papers was limited. They contained little which was likely to be
+of interest to her. She hardly knew where to look for such comments.
+The idea was not to be borne that she should be left in ignorance as to
+how the case had gone, as to what had become of Robert Champion.
+Anything rather than that. Her want of knowledge would have been to her
+as a perpetual nightmare. She would have scarcely dared to show herself
+in the streets for fear of encountering him.
+
+Yet, now that it was all over, and she knew the worst--or best--her
+disposition was to blame herself for having strayed within the tainted
+purlieus of that crime-haunted court. She felt as if the atmosphere of
+the place had infected her with some loathsome bacillus. She also
+thought it possible that he might have misconstrued the meaning of her
+presence. He was in error if he had supposed that it was intended as a
+mark of sympathy. In her complete ignorance of such matters she had no
+notion as to the nature of the punishment to which he had rendered
+himself liable. If he were sentenced to a long term of penal servitude
+she simply wished to know it, that was all. In such a situation any
+sort of certainty was better than none. But sympathy! If he had been
+sentenced to be hung, her dominant sensation would have been one of
+relief. The gallows would have been a way of escape.
+
+No one seeing the tall, handsome girl strolling listlessly along the
+street would have connected her with such a sordid tragedy. But it
+seemed to her that the stigma of Robert Champion's shame was branded
+large all over her, that passers-by had only to glance at her to
+perceive at once the depths into which she had fallen.
+
+And they were depths. Only just turned twenty-one; still a girl, and
+already a wife who was no wife. For what sort of wife can she be called
+who is mated to a convicted felon? And Robert Champion was one of
+nature's felons; a rogue who preferred to be a rogue, who loved crooked
+ways because of their crookedness, who would not run straight though
+the chance were offered him. He was a man who, to the end of his life,
+though he might manage to keep his carcase out of the actual hands of
+the law, would render himself continually liable to its penalties.
+Twelve months ago he was still a stranger. The next twelve months he
+was to spend in gaol. When his term of imprisonment was completed would
+their acquaintance be recommenced?
+
+At the thought of such a prospect the dizziness which had prostrated
+her in court returned. At present she dared not dwell on it.
+
+She came at last to the house in Percy Street in which she had hired a
+lodging. A single room, at the top of the house, the rent of which,
+little though it was, was already proving a severe drain on her limited
+resources. From the moment in which, at an early hour in the morning,
+her husband had been dragged out of bed by policemen, she had
+relinquished his name. There was nothing else of his she could
+relinquish. The rent for the rooms they occupied was in arrears;
+debts were due on every side. Broadly speaking, they owed for
+everything--always had done since the day they were married. There were
+a few articles of dress, and of personal adornment, which she felt that
+she was reasonably justified in considering her own. Most of these she
+had turned into cash, and had been living--or starving--on the proceeds
+ever since. The occupant of the "top floor back" was known as Miss
+Arnott. She had returned to her maiden name. She paid six shillings a
+week for the accommodation she received, which consisted of the bare
+lodging, and what--ironically--was called "attendance." Her rent had
+been settled up to yesterday, and she was still in possession of
+twenty-seven shillings.
+
+When she reached her room she became conscious that she was
+hungry--which was not strange, since she had eaten nothing since breakfast,
+which had consisted of a cup of tea and some bread and butter. But of
+late she had been nearly always hungry. Exhausted, mentally and bodily,
+she sank on to the side of the bed, which made a more comfortable seat
+than the only chair which the room contained; and thought and thought
+and thought. If only certain puzzles could be solved by dint of sheer
+hard thinking! But her brain was in such a state of chaos that she
+could only think confusedly, in a vicious circle, from which her
+mind was incapable of escaping. To only one conclusion could she
+arrive--that it would be a very good thing if she might be permitted to
+lie down on the bed, just as she was, and stay there till she was dead.
+For her life was at an end already at twenty-one. She had put a period
+to it when she had suffered herself to become that man's wife.
+
+She was still vaguely wondering if it might not be possible for her to
+take advantage of some such means of escape when she was startled by a
+sudden knocking at the door. Taken unawares, she sprang up from the
+bed, and, without pausing to consider who might be there, she cried,--
+
+"Come in!"
+
+Her invitation was accepted just as she was beginning to realise that
+it had been precipitately made. The door was opened; a voice--a
+masculine voice--inquired,--
+
+"May I see Miss Arnott?"
+
+The speaker remained on the other side of the open door, in such a
+position that, from where she was, he was still invisible.
+
+"What do you want? Who are you?" she demanded.
+
+"My name is Gardner--Edward Gardner. I occupy the dining-room. If you
+will allow me to come in I will explain the reason of my intrusion. I
+think you will find my explanation a sufficient one."
+
+She hesitated. The fact that the speaker was a man made her at once
+distrustful. Since her marriage day she had been developing a
+continually increasing distaste for everything masculine--seeing in
+every male creature a possible replica of her husband. The moment, too,
+was unpropitious. Yet, since the stranger was already partly in the
+room, she saw no alternative to letting him come a little farther.
+
+"Come in," she repeated.
+
+There entered an undersized, sparely-built man, probably between forty
+and fifty years of age. He was clean-shaven, nearly bald--what little
+hair he had was iron grey--and was plainly but neatly dressed in black.
+He spoke with an air of nervous deprecation, as if conscious that he
+was taking what might be regarded as a liberty, and was anxious to show
+cause why it should not be resented.
+
+"As I said just now, I occupy the dining-rooms and my name is Gardner.
+I am a solicitor's clerk. My employers are Messrs Stacey, Morris &
+Binns, of Bedford Row. Perhaps you are acquainted with the firm?"
+
+He paused as if for a reply. She was still wondering more and more what
+the man could possibly be wanting; oppressed by the foreboding, as he
+mentioned that he was a solicitor's clerk, that he was a harbinger of
+further trouble. With her law and trouble were synonyms. He went on,
+his nervousness visibly increasing. He was rendered uneasy by the
+statuesque immobility of her attitude, by the strange fashion in which
+she kept her eyes fixed on his face. It was also almost with a sense of
+shock that he perceived how young she was, and how beautiful.
+
+"It is only within the last few minutes that I learned, from the
+landlady, that your name was Arnott. It is a somewhat unusual name;
+and, as my employers have been for some time searching for a person
+bearing it, I beg that you will allow me to ask you one or two
+questions. Of course, I understand that my errand will quite probably
+prove to be a futile one; but, at the same time, let me assure you that
+any information you may give will only be used for your advantage; and
+should you, by a strange coincidence, turn out to be a member of the
+family for whom search has been made, you will benefit by the discovery
+of the fact. May I ask if, to your knowledge, you ever had a relation
+named Septimus Arnott?"
+
+"He was my uncle. My father's name was Sextus Arnott. My grandfather
+had seven sons and no daughters. He was an eccentric man, I believe--I
+never saw him; and he called them all by Latin numerals. My father was
+the sixth son, Sextus; the brother to whom you refer, the seventh and
+youngest, Septimus."
+
+"Dear, dear! how extraordinary! almost wonderful!"
+
+"I don't know why you should call it wonderful. It was perhaps curious;
+but, in this world, people do curious things."
+
+"Quite so!--exactly!--not a doubt of it! It was the coincidence which I
+was speaking of as almost wonderful, not your grandfather's method of
+naming his sons; I should not presume so far. And where, may I further
+be allowed to ask, is your father now, and his brothers?"
+
+"They are all dead."
+
+"All dead! Dear! dear!"
+
+"My father's brothers all died when they were young men. My father
+himself died three years ago--at Scarsdale, in Cumberland. My mother
+died twelve months afterwards. I am their only child."
+
+"Their only child! You must suffer me to say, Miss Arnott, that it
+almost seems as if the hand of God had brought you to this house and
+moved me to intrude myself upon you. I take it that you can furnish
+proofs of the correctness of what you say?"
+
+"Of course I can prove who I am, and who my father was, and his
+father."
+
+"Just so; that is precisely what I mean--exactly. Miss Arnott, Mr
+Stacey, the senior partner in our firm, resides in Pembridge Gardens,
+Bayswater. I have reason to believe that, if I go at once, I shall find
+him at home. When I tell him what I have learnt I am sure that he will
+come to you at once. May I ask you to await his arrival? I think I can
+assure you that you shall not be kept waiting more than an hour."
+
+"What can the person of whom you speak have to say to me?"
+
+"As I have told you, I am only a servant. It is not for me to betray my
+employer's confidence; but so much I may tell you--if you are the niece
+of the Septimus Arnott for whom we are acting you are a very fortunate
+young lady. And, in any case, I do assure you that you will not regret
+affording Mr Stacey an opportunity of an immediate interview."
+
+Mr Gardner went; the girl consented to await his return. Almost as soon
+as he was gone the landlady--Mrs Sayers--paid her a visit. It soon
+appeared that she had been prompted by the solicitor's clerk.
+
+"I understand, Miss Arnott, from Mr Gardner, who has had my dining-room
+now going on for five years, that his chief governor, Mr Stacey, is
+coming to call on you, as it were, at any moment. If you'd like to
+receive him in my sitting-room, I'm sure you're very welcome; and you
+shall be as private as you please."
+
+The girl eyed the speaker. Hitherto civility had not been her strongest
+point. Her sudden friendly impulse could only have been induced by some
+very sufficient reason of her own. The girl declined her offer. Mrs
+Sayers became effusive, almost insistent.
+
+"I am sure, my dear, that you will see for yourself that it's not quite
+the thing for a young lady to receive a gentleman, and maybe two, in a
+room like this, which she uses for sleeping. You're perfectly welcome
+to my little sitting-room for half an hour, or even more, where you'll
+be most snug and comfortable; and as for making you a charge, or
+anything of that sort, I shouldn't think of it, so don't let yourself
+be influenced by any fears of that kind."
+
+But the girl would have nothing to do with Mrs Sayers' sitting-room.
+This woman had regarded her askance ever since she had entered the
+house, had treated her with something worse than incivility. Miss
+Arnott was not disposed, even in so trifling a matter, to place herself
+under an obligation to her now. Mrs Sayers was difficult to convince;
+but the girl was rid of her at last, and was alone to ask herself what
+this new turn of fortune's wheel might portend. On this already
+sufficiently eventful day, of what new experiment was she to be made
+the subject? What was this stranger coming to tell her about Septimus
+Arnott--the uncle from whom her father had differed, as he himself was
+wont to phrase it, on eleven points out of ten? She was, it appeared,
+to be asked certain questions. Good; she would be prepared to answer
+them, up to a certain point. But where, exactly, was that point? And
+what would happen after it was reached?
+
+She was ready and willing to give a full and detailed account of all
+that had ever happened to her--up to the time of her coming to London.
+And how much afterwards? She did not, at present, know how it could be
+done; but if, by any means whatever, the thing were possible, she meant
+to conceal--from the whole world!--the shameful fact that she was
+Robert Champion's wife. Nothing, save the direst unescapable pressure,
+should ever induce her to even admit that she had known the man. That
+entire episode should be erased from her life, as if it had never been,
+if it were feasible. And she would make it feasible.
+
+The matter she had at present to consider was, how much--or how
+little--she should tell her coming visitors.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+
+                       THE WOMAN ON THE PAVEMENT
+
+
+Mr Stacey was a tall, portly gentleman, quite an accepted type of
+family lawyer. He was white-headed and inclined to be red-faced. He
+carried a pair of nose glasses, which were as often between his fingers
+as on his nose. His manner was urbane, with a tendency towards
+pomposity; and when he smiled, which was often, he showed a set of
+teeth which were as white and regular as the dentist could make them.
+He was followed into the room by Mr Gardner; and when the apartment
+contained three persons it was filled to overflowing.
+
+"Miss Arnott, my excellent friend, Mr Gardner here, has brought me
+most important news--most important. He actually tells me that you
+are--eh--the Miss Arnott for whom we have been so long in search."
+
+"I am Miss Arnott. I am not aware, however, that anyone has searched
+for me. I don't know why they should."
+
+Mr Gardner, who had been showing a vivid consciousness of scanty space,
+proffered a suggestion.
+
+"If I might make so bold, sir, as to ask Miss Arnott to honour me by
+stepping down to my poor parlour, we should, at least, have a little
+more room to move."
+
+"Mrs Sayers has already made me a similar proposal. I declined it, as I
+decline yours. What you wish to say to me you will be so good as to say
+to me here. This room, such as it is, is at anyrate my own--for the
+present."
+
+"For the present; quite so!--quite so! A fine spirit of independence--a
+fine spirit. I think, Miss Arnott, that before long you will have other
+rooms of your own, where you will be able to be independent in another
+sense. I understand that you claim to be the only surviving relative of
+Septimus Arnott, of Exham Park, Hampshire."
+
+"You understand quite wrongly; I claim nothing. I merely say that I am
+the only child of Sextus Arnott, and that I had an uncle whose name was
+Septimus. When they were young men my father and his brother were both
+artists. But, after a time, Uncle Septimus came to the conclusion that
+there was not much money to be made out of painting. He wanted my
+father to give it up. My father, who loved painting better than
+anything else in the world"--the words were uttered with more than a
+shade of bitterness--"wouldn't. They quarrelled and parted. My father
+never saw his brother again, and I have never seen him at all."
+
+"You don't know, then, that he is dead?"
+
+"I know nothing except what my father has told me. He remained what he
+called 'true to his art' to the end of his life, and never forgave his
+brother for turning his back on it."
+
+"Pardon my putting to you a somewhat delicate question. Did your father
+make much money by his painting?"
+
+"Much money!" The girl's lip curled. "When he died there was just
+enough left to keep my mother till she died."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"I came to London in search of fortune."
+
+"And found it?"
+
+"Do I look as if I had--in this attic, which contains all that I have
+in the world? No; fortune does not come to such as I am. I should be
+tolerably content if I were sure of daily bread. But why do you ask
+such questions? Why do you pry into my private affairs? I am not
+conscious of a desire to thrust them on your notice--or on anyone's."
+
+"Miss Arnott, I beg that you will not suppose that I am actuated by
+common curiosity. Let me explain the situation in half-a-dozen words.
+Your Uncle Septimus, after he left your father, went to South America.
+There, after divers adventures, he went in for cattle breeding. In that
+pursuit he amassed one of those large fortunes which are characteristic
+of modern times. Eventually he came to England, bought a property,
+settled himself on it, and there died. We acted as his legal advisers.
+He left his whole property to his brother Sextus; or, in the event of
+his brother predeceasing him, to his brother's children. You must
+understand that he himself lived and died a bachelor. His own death
+occurred three years ago."
+
+"My father also died three years ago--on the 18th of March."
+
+"This is very remarkable, Miss Arnott; they must have died on the same
+day!"
+
+"My father died at five minutes to six in the evening. His last words
+were, 'Well, Septimus.' My mother and I, who were at his bedside,
+wondered why he had said it--which he did so plainly that we both
+turned round to see if anyone had come into the room. Until then he had
+not mentioned his brother's name for a long time."
+
+"Miss Arnott, this is more and more remarkable; quite apart from any
+legal proof there can be no sort of doubt that you are the person
+we are seeking. It happened that I was present at your uncle's
+deathbed--partly as a friend and partly as his professional adviser. For
+I should tell you that he was a very lonely man. He seemed to have no
+friends, and was chary of making acquaintances; in that great house he
+lived the life of a lonely recluse. He died just as the clock was
+striking six; and just before he died he sat up in bed, held out his
+hand, and exclaimed in quite his old, hearty voice, 'Hullo, Sextus.'
+No one there knew to what the reference was made; but from what you say
+it would almost appear as if their spirits were already meeting." Mr
+Stacey blew his nose as if all at once conscious that they were touching
+a subject which was not strictly professional. "Before entering further
+into matters, I presume that--merely for form's sake--you are in a
+position to prove, Miss Arnott, that you are you."
+
+"Certainly, I can do that, to some extent, at once." She took an
+envelope from a shabby old handbag; from the envelope some papers.
+"This is my mother's marriage certificate; this is the certificate of
+my own birth; this--" the paper of which she had taken hold chanced to
+be a copy of the document which certified that a marriage had taken
+place between Robert Champion, bachelor, and Violet Arnott, spinster.
+For the moment she had forgotten its existence. When she recognised
+what it was her heart seemed to sink in her bosom; her voice trembled;
+it was only with an effort that she was able to keep herself from
+handing it to the man of law in front of her. "No," she stammered,
+"that's the wrong paper." Just in time she drew it back. If he had only
+had one glance at it the whole course of her life would have been
+different. She went on, with as complete a show of calmness as she was
+capable of, "This is the paper I meant to give you--it is a copy of the
+certificate of my father's death; and this is a copy of my mother's.
+They are both buried in the same grave in the cemetery at Scarsdale."
+
+He took the papers she passed to him, seemingly unconscious that there
+was anything curious in her manner. That other paper, crumpling it up,
+she slipped between the buttons of her bodice. He looked through the
+documents she had given him.
+
+"They appear to be perfectly in order--perfectly in order, and I have
+no doubt that on investigation they will be ascertained to be. By the
+way, Miss Arnott, I notice that you were born just one-and-twenty years
+ago."
+
+"Yes; my twenty-first birthday was on the 9th of last month--five weeks
+ago."
+
+She did not think it necessary to mention that the memory of it would
+be with her for ever, since it had been celebrated by the arrest of her
+husband.
+
+"Five weeks ago? A pity that it couldn't have been next month instead
+of last; then the date of your coming of age might have been made a
+great occasion. However, it shall still be to you a memorable year. You
+will, of course, understand that there are certain forms which must be
+gone through; but I don't think I am premature in expressing to you my
+personal conviction that you are the person who is intended to benefit
+under the will of the late Mr Septimus Arnott. Your uncle was one of
+our multi-millionaires. I cannot, at this moment, state the exact value
+of his estate; but this I can inform you--that your income will be
+considerably over one hundred thousand pounds a year."
+
+"One hundred thousand pounds a year!" She gripped, with her right hand,
+the back of the room's one chair. "Do you mean it?"
+
+"Beyond the shadow of a doubt. I am free to admit that I am fond of a
+jest; but a fortune of that magnitude is not a fit subject for a joke.
+Believe me, you will find it a serious matter when you come to be
+directly responsible for its administration."
+
+"It seems a large sum of money."
+
+He observed her a little curiously; she showed so few signs of emotion,
+none of elation. In her position, at her age, on receipt of such news,
+one would have looked for her cheeks to flush, for her lips to be
+parted by a smile, for a new brightness to come into her eyes--for
+these things at least. So far as he was able to perceive, not the
+slightest change took place in her bearing, her manner, her appearance;
+except that perhaps she became a little paler. The communication he had
+just made might have been of interest to a third party, but of none to
+her, so striking was the suggestion of indifference which her demeanour
+conveyed.
+
+He decided that the explanation was that as yet she was incapable of
+realising her own good fortune.
+
+"Seems a large sum? It is a large sum! How large I lack words to enable
+you to clearly comprehend. When we talk of millions we speak of figures
+anything like the full meaning of which the ordinary imagination is
+altogether incapable to grasp. I think, Miss Arnott, that some time
+will probably elapse vast is the responsibility which is about to be
+placed upon you. In the meantime I would make two remarks--first, that
+until matters are placed in regular order I shall be happy to place at
+your disposition any amount of ready cash you may require; and second,
+that until everything is arranged, Mrs Stacey and myself will be only
+too glad to extend to you our hospitality at Pembridge Gardens."
+
+"I think, if you don't mind, I should like to remain here at anyrate
+to-night. I shall have a great many things to consider; I should prefer
+to do so alone. If you wish it I will call on you in the morning at
+your offices, and then we will go into everything more fully."
+
+"Very good. As you choose, Miss Arnott. It is for you to command, for
+me to obey. You are your own mistress in a sense, and to a degree which
+I fancy you don't at present understand. I took the precaution to
+provide myself, before leaving home, with a certain amount of ready
+money. Permit me to place at your service this hundred pounds; you will
+find that there are twenty five-pound notes. I need scarcely add that
+the money is your own property. Now as to to-morrow. We have had so
+much difficulty in finding you, and it is by such a seeming miracle
+that we have lighted on you at last, that I am reluctant to lose sight
+of you even for a single night--until, that is, everything is in due
+order, and you have happily released us from the great weight of
+responsibility which has lain so long upon us. May I take it that we
+shall certainly see you to-morrow at our offices at noon?"
+
+"Yes; I will be with you to-morrow at noon." It was on that
+understanding they parted. Before he left the house Mr Stacey said to
+his clerk,--
+
+"Gardner, that's a singular young woman. So young, so beautiful, and
+yet so cold, so frigid, so--stolid. She didn't even thank me for
+bringing her the good news, neither by a word nor look did she so much
+as hint that the news had gratified her; indeed, I am not at all sure
+that she thinks it is good news. In one so young, so charming--because,
+so far as looks are concerned, she is charming, and she will be
+particularly so when she is well dressed--it isn't natural, Gardner, it
+isn't natural."
+
+In the top floor back the girl was contemplating the twenty five-pound
+notes. She had never before been the owner of so much money, or
+anything like so much. Had she been the possessor of such a fortune
+when she came to town she might never have become a "model" in the
+costume department of the world-famed Messrs Glover & Silk, she might
+never have made the acquaintance of Robert Champion, she would
+certainly never have become his wife. The glamour which had seemed to
+surround him had been the result of the circumstances in which she had
+first encountered him. Had her own position not been such a pitiable
+one she would never have been duped by him, by his impudent assurance,
+his brazen lies, his reckless promises. She had seen that clearly, long
+ago.
+
+A hundred pounds! Why, the fraud for which, at that moment, he was in
+gaol had had for its objective a sum of less than twenty pounds. She
+writhed as she thought of it. Was he already in prisoner's clothes,
+marked with the broad arrow? Was he thinking of her in his felon's
+cell? She tried to put the vision from her, as one too horrible for
+contemplation. Would it persistently recur to her, in season and out,
+her whole life long? God forbid! Rather than that, better death,
+despite her uncle's fortune.
+
+In any case she could at least afford to treat herself to a sufficient
+meal. She went to a quiet restaurant in Oxford Street, and there fared
+sumptuously--that is, sumptuously in comparison to the fashion in which
+she had fared this many and many a day. Afterwards, she strolled along
+the now lamp-lit street. As she went she met a girl of about her own
+age who was decked out in tawdry splendours. They had nearly passed
+before they knew each other. Then recognition came. The other girl
+stopped and turned.
+
+"Why, Vi!" she exclaimed. "Who'd have dreamt of seeing you?"
+
+The girl addressed did not attempt to return the greeting. She did not
+even acknowledge it. Instead she rushed off the pavement into a
+"crawling" hansom, saying to the driver as she entered his vehicle,--
+
+"Drive me to the city--anywhere; only be quick and get away from here!"
+
+When she concluded that she was well out of that other girl's sight she
+instructed the man to drive her to Percy Street. At the corner of the
+street she alighted. Once more in her attic she did as she had done on
+her previous return to it--she sank down on to the side of the bed,
+trembling from head to foot.
+
+The woman who had spoken to her in Oxford Street was Sarah Stevens, who
+had been a fellow employee at Messrs Glover & Silk's. It was she who
+had introduced her to Robert Champion. It was largely owing to the
+tales she had told of him, and to her eager advocacy of his suit, that
+she had been jockeyed into becoming his wife. It was only afterwards,
+when it was too late, that she had learnt that the girl was as bad
+as--if not worse than--the man to whom she had betrayed her. From the
+beginning the pair had been co-conspirators; Violet Arnott had been
+their victim.
+
+Was she to be haunted always by the fear of such encounters? Rather
+than run that risk she would never again set foot in London. Certainly,
+the sooner she was out of it the better.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+
+                    THE HEIRESS ENTERS INTO HER OWN
+
+
+During the days and weeks which followed it was as though she were the
+chief personage in a strange, continuous dream. Always she expected an
+awakening--of a kind of which she did not dare to think. But the dream
+continued. All at once her path was strewn with roses; up to then she
+had seemed to have to pick her way, barefooted, amid stones and
+thistles. No obstacle of any kind arose. Everything was smooth and
+easy. Her claim to be her uncle's niece was admitted as soon as it was
+made. Under her uncle's will Mr Stacey was the sole trustee. To all
+intents and purposes his trusteeship was at an end when she was found.
+She was of age; the property was hers to do with exactly as she would.
+By no conditions was she bound. She was her own mistress; in sole
+control of that great fortune. It was a singular position for a young
+girl to find herself suddenly occupying.
+
+She was glad enough to leave her affairs in the hands of Messrs Stacey,
+Morris & Binns. In those early days the mere attempt to understand them
+was beyond her power. They were anxious enough to place before her an
+exact statement of the position she had now to occupy. To some extent
+she grasped its meaning. But the details she insisted on being allowed
+to assimilate by degrees.
+
+"If I know pretty well what I have and what I haven't, what I can do
+and what I can't, and what my duties and responsibilities are, say, in
+three, or even six months' time, I'll be content. In the meanwhile you
+must continue to do precisely what you have been doing during the time
+in which I was still not found. I understand sufficiently to know that
+you have managed all things better than I am ever likely to."
+
+She provided herself with what she deemed an ample, and, indeed,
+extravagant supply of clothing at Mrs Stacey's urgent request. That
+lady's ideas, however, were much more gorgeous than her own. The
+solicitor's wife insisted that it was only right and proper that she
+should have a wardrobe which, as she put it, "was suitable to her
+position." That meant, apparently, that, in the way of wearing apparel,
+she should supply herself with the contents of a good-sized London
+shop. To that Miss Arnott objected.
+
+"What do you suppose I shall do with all those things?" she demanded.
+"I am going into the country to stay there. I am going to live all
+alone, as my uncle did. I sha'n't see a creature from week's end to
+week's end--a heap of new dresses won't be wanted for that. They'll all
+be out of fashion long before I have a chance of wearing them."
+
+Mrs Stacey smiled; she was a lady of ample proportions, who had herself
+a taste for sumptuous raiment.
+
+"I fancy, dear Miss Arnott, that even now you don't realise your own
+situation. Do you really suppose that--as you suggest--you will be
+allowed to live all alone at Exham Park, without seeing a creature from
+week's end to week's end?"
+
+"Who is going to prevent me?"
+
+"Dear Miss Arnott, you are positively amusing. Before you have been
+there a fortnight the whole county, at least, will have been inside
+your doors."
+
+"I hope not."
+
+The look of distress on the young lady's countenance was almost
+comical.
+
+"You speak, I think, without reflection. I, personally, should be both
+grieved and disappointed if anything else were to happen."
+
+"You would be grieved and disappointed? Good gracious! Mrs Stacey,
+why?"
+
+"It is only in accordance with the requirements of common decency that
+a person in your position should receive adequate recognition. If
+everyone did not call on you you would be subjected to an injurious
+slight."
+
+"Certainly that point of view did not occur to me. Up to now no one
+worth speaking of has recognised my existence in the slightest degree.
+The idea, therefore, that it has suddenly become everyone's duty to do
+so is, to say the least, a novel one.
+
+"So I imagined. It is, however, as I say; you see, circumstances are
+altered. Quite apart from the period when you will possess a town
+residence--"
+
+"That period will be never."
+
+"Never is a long while--a very long while. I say, quite apart from that
+period, what I cannot but call your unique position will certainly
+entitle you to act as one of the leaders of county society."
+
+"How dreadful! I'm beginning to wish my position wasn't so unique."
+
+"You speak, if you will forgive my saying so, as a child. Providence
+has seen fit to place you in a position in which you will be an object
+of universal admiration. With your youth, your appearance, your
+fortune, not only all Hampshire, but all England, will be at your feet.
+
+"All England! Mrs Stacey, isn't that just a little exaggerated?"
+
+"Not in the least. On the contrary, my language, if anything, errs on
+the side of being too guarded. A beautiful young girl of twenty-one,
+all alone in the world, with more than a hundred thousand pounds a year
+entirely under her own control--princes from all parts of the world
+will tumble over each other in their desire to find favour in your
+eyes."
+
+"Then princes must be much more foolish persons than I supposed."
+
+"My dear, of that we will say nothing. Don't let us speak evil of
+dignitaries. I was always brought up to think of them with respect. To
+return to the subject of your wardrobe. I have merely made these few
+remarks in order to point out to you how essential it is that you
+should be furnished, at the outset, with a wardrobe likely to prove
+equal to all the demands which are certain to be made on one in your
+position."
+
+"All the same, I won't have five hundred dresses. Position or no
+position, I know I shall be much happier with five."
+
+It is an undoubted fact that the young lady's equipment of costumes
+extended to more than five, though it stopped far short of the number
+which her feminine mentor considered adequate. Indeed, Mrs Stacey made
+no secret of her opinion that, from the social point of view, her
+arrangements were scarcely decent.
+
+"At the very first serious call which is made upon your resources, you
+will find yourself absolutely without a thing to wear. Then you'll have
+to rush up to town and have clothes made for you in red-hot haste, than
+which nothing can be more unsatisfactory."
+
+"I shall have to chance that. I hate shops and I hate shopping."
+
+"My dear!"
+
+"I do. I don't care how it is with other girls, it's like that with me.
+I've already had more than enough of dressmakers; for ever so long I
+promise you that I won't go near one for another single thing. I'm
+going to the country, and I'm going to live a country life; and for the
+kind of country life I mean to live you don't want frocks."
+
+Mrs Stacey lifted up her hands and sighed. To her such sentiments
+seemed almost improper. It was obvious that Miss Arnott meant to be her
+own mistress in something more than name. On one question, however, she
+was over-ruled. That was on the question of a companion.
+
+It was perfectly clear, both to her legal advisers and to the senior
+partner's wife, that it was altogether impossible for her to live at
+Exham Park entirely companionless.
+
+"What harm will there be?" she demanded. "I shall be quite alone."
+
+"My dear," returned Mrs Stacey, "you won't understand. It is precisely
+that which is impossible--you must not be quite alone; a young girl, a
+mere child like you. People will not only think things, they will say
+them--and they will be right in doing so. The idea is monstrous, not to
+be entertained for a moment. You must have some sort of a companion."
+
+Miss Arnott emitted a sound which might have been meant for a groan.
+
+"Very well then, if I must I must--but she shall be younger than I am;
+or, at anyrate, not much older."
+
+Mrs Stacey looked as if the suggestion had rendered her temporarily
+speechless.
+
+"My dear," she finally gasped, "that would be worse than ever. Two
+young girls alone together in such a house--what a scandal there would
+be!"
+
+"Why should there be any scandal?"
+
+Miss Arnott's manner was a little defiant.
+
+"If you cannot see for yourself I would rather you did not force me to
+explain. I can only assure you that if you are not extremely careful
+your innocence of evil will lead you into very great difficulties. What
+you want is a woman of mature age, of wide knowledge of the world;
+above all, of impregnable respectability. One who will, in a sense,
+fill the place of a mother, officiate--nominally--as the head of your
+household, who will help you in entertaining visitors--"
+
+"There will be no visitors to entertain."
+
+The elder lady indulged in what she intended for an enigmatic smile.
+
+"When you have been at Exham Park for six months you will blush at the
+recollection of your own simplicity. At present I can only ask you to
+take my word for it that there will be shoals of visitors."
+
+"Then that companion of mine will have to entertain them, that's all.
+One thing I stipulate: you will have to discover her, I sha'n't."
+
+To this Mrs Stacey willingly acceded. The companion was discovered. She
+was a Mrs Plummer; of whom her discoverer spoke in tones of chastened
+solemnity.
+
+"Mrs Plummer is a distant connection of Mr Stacey. As such, he has
+known her all his life; and can therefore vouch for her in every
+respect. She has known trouble; and, as trouble always does, it has
+left its impress upon her. But she is a true woman, with a great heart
+and a beautiful nature. She is devoted to young people. You will find
+in her a firm friend, one who will make your interests her own, and who
+will be able and willing to give you sound advice on all occasions in
+which you find yourself in difficulty. I am convinced that you will
+become greatly attached to her; you will find her such a very present
+help in all times of trouble."
+
+When, a few days before they went down together to Exham Park, Miss
+Arnott was introduced to Mrs Plummer in Mrs Stacey's drawing-room, in
+some way, which the young lady would have found it hard to define, she
+did not accord with her patroness's description. As her custom
+sometimes was, Miss Arnott plunged headforemost into the midst of
+things.
+
+"I am told that you are to be my companion. I am very sorry for you,
+because I am not at all a companionable sort of creature."
+
+"You need not be sorry. I think you will find that I understand the
+situation. Convention declines to allow a young woman to live alone in
+her own house; I shall be the necessary figurehead which the
+proprieties require. I shall never intrude myself. I shall be always in
+the background--except on occasions when I perceive that you would
+sooner occupy that place yourself. I shall be quick to see when those
+occasions arise; and, believe me, they will be more frequent than you
+may at this moment suspect. As for freedom--you will have more freedom
+under the aegis of my wing, which will be purely an affair of the
+imagination, than without it; since, under its imaginary shelter, you
+will be able to do all manner of things which, otherwise, you would
+hardly be able to do unchallenged. In fact, with me as cover, you will
+be able to do exactly as you please; and still remain in the inner
+sanctuary of Mrs Grundy."
+
+Mrs Plummer spoke with a degree of frankness for which Miss Arnott was
+unprepared. She looked at her more closely, to find that she was a
+little woman, apparently younger than she had expected. Her dark brown
+hair was just beginning to turn grey. She was by no means ugly; the
+prominent characteristic of her face being the smallness of the
+features. She had a small mouth, thinly lipped, which, when it was
+closed, was tightly closed. She had a small, slenderly-fashioned
+aquiline nose, the nostrils of which were very fine and delicate. Her
+eyes were small and somewhat prominent, of a curious shade in blue,
+having about them a quality which suggested that, while they saw
+everything which was taking place around her, they served as masks
+which prevented you seeing anything which was transpiring at the back
+of them. She was dressed like a lady; she spoke like a lady; she looked
+a lady. Miss Arnott had not been long in her society before she
+perceived, though perhaps a little dimly, what Mrs Stacey had meant by
+saying that trouble had left its impress on her. There was in her
+voice, her face, her bearing, her manner, a something which spoke of
+habitual self-repression, which was quite possibly the outcome of some
+season of disaster which, for her, had changed the whole aspect of the
+world.
+
+The day arrived, at last, when the heiress made her first appearance at
+Exham Park. The house had been shut up, and practically dismantled, for
+so long, that the task of putting it in order, collecting an adequate
+staff of servants, and getting it generally ready for its new mistress,
+occupied some time. Miss Arnott journeyed with Mrs Plummer; it was the
+first occasion on which they had been companions. The young lady's
+sensations, as the train bore her through the sunlit country, were of a
+very singular nature; the little woman in the opposite corner of the
+compartment had not the faintest notion how singular.
+
+Mr Stacey met the travellers at the station, ushering them into a
+landau, the door of which was held open by a gigantic footman in
+powdered hair and silk stockings. Soon after they had started, Miss
+Arnott asked a question,--
+
+"Is this my carriage?"
+
+The gentleman replied, with some show of pomposity,--
+
+"It is one of them, Miss Arnott, one of them. You will find, in your
+coach-houses, a variety of vehicles; but, of course, I do not for a
+moment pretend that you will find there every kind of conveyance you
+require. Indeed, the idea has rather been that you should fill the
+inevitable vacancies in accordance with the dictates of your own
+taste."
+
+"Whose idea is the flour and the silk stockings?"
+
+She was looking up at the coachman and footman on the box.
+
+"The--eh?--oh, I perceive; you allude to the men's liveries. The
+liveries, Miss Arnott, were chosen by your late uncle; I think you will
+admit that they are very handsome ones. It has been felt that, in
+deference to him, they should be continued, until you thought proper to
+rule otherwise."
+
+"Then I'm afraid that they won't be continued much longer. In such
+matters my uncle's tastes were--I hope it isn't treason to say
+so--perhaps a trifle florid. Mine are all the other way. I don't like
+floured heads, silk stockings, or crimson velvet breeches; I like
+everything about me to be plain to the verge of severity. My father's
+ideal millionaire was mine; shall I tell you what that was?"
+
+"If you will be so good."
+
+"He held that a man with five thousand a year, if he were really a
+gentleman, would do his best not to allow it to be obvious to the man
+who only had five hundred that he had more than he had."
+
+"There is something to be said for that point of view; on the other
+hand, there is a great deal to be said for the other side."
+
+"No doubt. There is always a great deal to be said for the other side.
+I am only hinting at the one towards which I personally incline."
+Presently they were passing along an avenue of trees. "Where are we
+now?"
+
+"We are on your property--this is the drive to the house."
+
+"There seems to be a good deal of it."
+
+"It is rather more than three miles long; there are lodge gates at
+either end; the house stands almost in the centre."
+
+"It seems rather pretty."
+
+"Pretty! Exham Park is one of the finest seats in the country. That is
+why your uncle purchased it."
+
+After a while they came in sight of the house.
+
+"Is that the house? It looks more like a palace. Fancy my living all
+alone in a place like that! Now I understand why a companion was an
+absolute necessity. It strikes me, Mrs Plummer, that you will want a
+companion as much as I shall. What shall we two lone, lorn women do in
+that magnificent abode?"
+
+As they stepped in front of the splendid portico there came down the
+steps a man who held his hat in his hand, with whom Mr Stacey at once
+went through the ceremony of introduction.
+
+"Miss Arnott, this is Mr Arthur Cavanagh, your steward."
+
+She found herself confronted by a person who was apparently not much
+more than thirty years of age; erect, well-built, with short, curly
+hair, inclined to be ruddy, a huge moustache, and a pair of the
+merriest blue eyes she had ever seen. When they were in the house, and
+Mr Stacey was again alone with the two ladies, he observed, with
+something which approximated to an air of mystery,--
+
+"You must understand, Miss Arnott, that, as regards Mr Cavanagh, we--my
+partners and myself--have been in a delicate position. He was your
+uncle's particular _protege_. I have reason to know that he came to
+England at his express request. We have hardly seen our way--acting
+merely on our own initiative--to displace him."
+
+"Displace him? Why should he be displaced? Isn't he a good steward?"
+
+"As regards that, good stewards are not difficult to find. Under the
+circumstances, the drawbacks in his case are, I may almost say,
+notorious. He is young, even absurdly young; he is not ill-looking, and
+he is unmarried."
+
+Miss Arnott smiled, as if Mr Stacey had been guilty of perpetrating a
+joke.
+
+"It's not his fault that he is young; it's not my fault that I am
+young. It's nice not to be ill-looking, and--I rather fancy--it's nice
+to be unmarried." She said to Mrs Plummer as, a little later, they were
+going upstairs together, side by side, "What odd things Mr Stacey does
+say. Fancy regarding them as drawbacks being young, good-looking and
+unmarried. What can he be thinking of?"
+
+"I must refer you to him. It is one of the many questions to which I am
+unable to supply an answer of my own."
+
+When she was in her own room, two faces persisted in getting in front
+of Miss Arnott's eyes. One was the face of Mr Arthur Cavanagh, the
+other was that of the man who was serving a term of twelve months' hard
+labour, and which was always getting, as it were, between her and the
+daylight.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV
+
+                     THE EARL OF PECKHAM'S PROPOSAL
+
+
+Miss Arnott soon realised what Mrs Stacey had meant by insisting on the
+impossibility of her living a solitary life. So soon as she arrived
+upon the scene, visitors began to appear at Exham Park in a constant
+stream. The day after she came calls were made by two detachments of
+the clergy, and by the representatives of three medical men. But, as
+Mrs Plummer somewhat unkindly put it, these might be regarded as
+professional calls; or, in other words, requests for custom.
+
+"Since you are the patron of these livings, their present holders were
+bound to haste and make obeisance--though it would seem that, in that
+respect, one of them is still a defaulter. The way in which those two
+doctors and their wives, who happened to come together, glowered at
+each other was beautiful. One quite expected to see them lapse into
+mutual charges of unprofessional conduct. Which of the three do you
+propose to favour?"
+
+"Mr Cavanagh says that uncle used to patronise all three. He had one
+for the servants on the estate one for the indoor servants, and one for
+himself."
+
+"And which of the three was it who killed him?"
+
+"There came a time when all three were called together to consult upon
+his case. That finished uncle at once. He died within four-and-twenty
+hours. So Mr Cavanagh says."
+
+"I suppose Mr Cavanagh is able to supply you with little interesting
+details on all sorts of recondite subjects?"
+
+"Oh yes; he is like a walking encyclopedia of information on all
+matters connected with the estate. Whenever I want to know anything I
+simply go to him; he always knows. It is most convenient."
+
+"And I presume that he is always willing to tell you what you want to
+know."
+
+"Most willing. I never met a more obliging person. And so
+good-humoured. Have you noticed his smile?"
+
+"I can't say that I have paid particular attention to his smile."
+
+"It's wonderful; it lights up all his face and makes him positively
+handsome. I think he's a most delightful person, and so clever. I'm
+sure he's immensely popular with everyone; not at all like the
+hard-as-nails stewards one reads about. I can't imagine what Mr Stacey
+meant byalmost expressing a regret that he had not displaced him, can
+you?"
+
+"Some people sometimes say such extraordinary things that it's no use
+trying to imagine what they mean."
+
+The answer was a trifle vague; but it seemed to satisfy Miss Arnott.
+Neither of the ladies looked to see if the other was smiling.
+
+Mrs Stacey's sibylline utterance was prophetic; in a fortnight the
+whole county had called--that is, so much of it as was within anything
+like calling distance, and in the country in these days "calling
+distance" is a term which covers a considerable expanse of ground.
+Practically the only abstentions were caused by people's absence from
+home. It was said that some came purposely from London, and even
+farther, so that they might not lose an opportunity of making Miss
+Arnott's acquaintance.
+
+For instance, there was the case of the Dowager Countess of Peckham. It
+happened that the old lady's dower house was at Stevening, some
+fourteen or fifteen miles from Exham Park. Since she had never occupied
+it since the time it came into her possession, having always preferred
+to let it furnished to whoever might come along, one would scarcely
+have supposed that she would have called herself Miss Arnott's
+neighbour. When, however, a little bird whispered in her ear what a
+very charming millionairess was in practically solitary occupation of
+Exham Park, it chanced that, for the moment, her own house was
+untenanted, and, within four-and-twenty hours of the receipt of that
+whispered communication, for the first time in her life she was under
+its roof. On the following day she covered the fourteen miles which lay
+between her and Exham Park in a hired fly, was so fortunate as to find
+Miss Arnott at home, and was so agreeably impressed by the lady
+herself, by her surroundings, and by all that she heard of her, that
+she stopped at the village post office on her homeward journey to send
+a peremptory telegram to her son to come at once. The Earl of Peckham
+came. He had nothing particular to do just then; or, at least, nothing
+which he could not easily shirk. He might as well run down to his
+mother. So he ran down on his automobile. Immediately on his arrival
+she favoured him with a few home truths; as she had done on many
+previous occasions, and peremptorily bundled him over to Exham Park.
+
+"Mind! you now have a chance such as you never had before; and such as
+you certainly will never have again. The girl has untold wealth
+absolutely at her own command; she hasn't a relation in the world; she
+is alone with a woman who is perfectly ready to be hoodwinked; she
+knows nobody worth speaking of. You will have her all to yourself, it
+will be your own fault if she's not engaged to you in a fortnight, and
+your wife within six weeks. Think of it, a quarter of a million a year,
+not as representing her capital, you understand, but a year! and
+absolutely no relations. None of that crowd of miserable hangers-on
+which so often represents the mushroom millionaire's family
+connections. If you don't take advantage of this heaven-sent
+opportunity, Peckham, you are past praying for--that's all I can say."
+
+Peckham sighed. According to her that always was all she could say, and
+she had said it so many times. He motored over to Exham Park in a frame
+of mind which was not in keeping with the character of a light-hearted
+wooer. He had wanted his mother to accompany him. But she had a
+conservative objection to motor cars, nothing would induce her to trust
+herself on one. So, reluctantly enough, he went alone.
+
+"You ask Miss Arnott to lunch to-morrow; you can go over yourself and
+bring her on your car, it will be an excellent opening. And when she is
+here I will do the honours. But I have no intention of risking my own
+life on one of those horrible machines."
+
+As he reached the bottom of a rather steep slope, his lordship met a
+lady and a gentleman, who were strolling side by side. Stopping, he
+addressed the gentleman,--
+
+"I beg your pardon, but can you tell me if I am going right for Exham
+Park? There were crossroads some way back, at the top of the hill, but
+I was going so fast that I couldn't see what was on the direction
+posts. I mean Miss Arnott's."
+
+"You will find the lodge gate on your right, about half a mile further
+on." The speaker hesitated, then added, "This is Miss Arnott."
+
+Off came his lordship's hat again.
+
+"I am very fortunate. I am Peckham--I mean the Earl of Peckham. My
+mother has sent me with a message."
+
+The lady was regarding the car with interested eyes.
+
+"I never have been on a motor car, but if you could find room for me on
+yours, you might take me up to the house, and--give me the message."
+
+In a trice the mechanician was in the tonneau, and the lady by his
+lordship's side. As Mr Cavanagh, left alone, gazed after the retreating
+car, it was not the good-humoured expression of his countenance which
+would have struck Miss Arnott most.
+
+The young lady's tastes were plainly altogether different from the old
+one's--at anyrate, so far as motor cars were concerned. Obviously she
+did not consider them to be horrible machines. She showed the liveliest
+interest in this, the first one of which she had had any actual
+experience. They went for quite a lengthy drive together, three times
+up and down the drive, which meant nearly nine miles. Once, at the
+lady's request, the driver showed what his car could do. As it was a
+machine of the highest grade, and of twenty-four horse power, it could
+do a good deal. Miss Arnott expressed her approbation of the
+performance.
+
+"How splendid! I could go on like that for ever; it blows one about a
+bit, but if one were sensibly dressed that wouldn't matter. How fast
+were we going?"
+
+"Oh, somewhere about fifty miles an hour. It's all right in a place
+like this; but, the worst of it is, there are such a lot of beastly
+policemen about. It's no fun having always to pay fines for excessive
+speed, and damages for running over people, and that kind of thing."
+
+"I should think not, indeed. Have you ever run over anyone?"
+
+"Well, not exactly; only, accidents will happen, you know."
+
+As she observed that young man's face, a suspicion dawned upon her
+mind, that--when he was driving--they occasionally would.
+
+Ere she descended she received some elementary lessons in the art of
+controlling a motor car. And, altogether, by the time they reached the
+house, and the message was delivered, they were on terms of
+considerable intimacy.
+
+The acquaintance, thus auspiciously begun, rapidly ripened. The Earl
+did not find the business on which he was engaged anything like such a
+nuisance as he had feared; on the contrary, he found it an agreeable
+occupation. He was of opinion that the girl was not half a bad sort;
+that, in fact, she was a very good sort indeed. He actually decided
+that she would have been eligible for a place in the portrait gallery
+of the Countesses of Peckham even if she had not been set in such a
+desirable frame. That motor car was a great aid to intimacy. He drove
+her; and he taught her to drive him. Sometimes, the chauffeur being
+left behind, they had the car to themselves. It was on such an
+occasion, when their acquaintance hardly extended beyond his mother's
+suggested fortnight, that he made her an offer of his hand and heart.
+She was driving at the time, and going at a pretty good pace, which was
+possibly on the wrong side of the legal limit; but when she began to
+have an inkling of what he was talking about, she instantly put on the
+brakes, and pulled up dead. She was so taken by surprise, and her own
+hideous position was so continually present to her mind's eye, that it
+was some seconds before she perceived that the young man at her side
+must, of necessity, be completely unconscious of the monstrous nature
+of his proposal. She was silent for several moments, then she answered,
+while the car was still at a standstill in the middle of the road,--
+
+"Thank you. No doubt your offer is not meant unkindly; but acceptance
+on my part is altogether out of the question."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Why? Because it is. I am sorry you should have spoken like this,
+because I was beginning to like you."
+
+"Isn't that a reason why I should speak? If you are beginning to like
+me, by degrees you may get to like me more and more."
+
+"I think not. Because this little _contretemps_ will necessarily put a
+period to our acquaintance."
+
+"Oh, rats! that isn't fair! If I'd thought it would worry you I
+wouldn't have said a word. Only--I should like to ask if there is
+anybody else."
+
+"Do you mean, is there anyone else to whom I am engaged to be married?
+There is not--and there never will be."
+
+"I say, Miss Arnott! Every man in England--who can get within reach of
+you--will have tried his luck before the end of the season. You will
+have to take one of them, to save yourself from being bothered."
+
+"Shall I? You think so? You are wrong. If you don't mind, I will turn
+the car round, and take it to the lodge gate; then I will get out, and
+walk home. Only there must be no more conversation of this sort on the
+way, or I shall get out at once."
+
+"You need not fear that I shall offend again; put her round."
+
+She "put her round." They gained the lodge gate. The lady descended.
+
+"Good-bye, Lord Peckham. I have to thank you for some very pleasant
+rides, and for much valuable instruction. I'm sorry I couldn't do what
+you wanted, but--it's impossible."
+
+"I sha'n't forget the jolly time I've had with you, and shall hope to
+meet you again when you come to town. You are inclined to treat me with
+severity, but I assure you that if you intend to treat every man
+severely, merely because he proposes, you have set yourself a task
+which would have been too much for the strength of Hercules."
+
+His lordship returned then and there to London. On the road he sent a
+telegram to his mother which contained these two words only: "Been
+refused."
+
+On her part, Miss Arnott did not at once return to the house. She chose
+instead a winding path which led to a certain woodland glade which she
+had already learned to love. There, amidst the trees, the bushes, the
+gorse, the wild flowers, the tall grasses and the bracken, she could
+enjoy solitary communion with her own thoughts. Just then she had
+plenty to think about. There was not only Lord Peckham's strange
+conduct, there was also his parting words.
+
+Her knowledge of the world was very scanty, especially of that sort of
+world in which she so suddenly found herself. But she was a girl of
+quick intuitions; and already she had noticed a something in the
+demeanour of some of the masculine acquaintances she had made which she
+had not altogether relished. Could what Lord Peckham had said be true?
+Would every man who came within reach of her try his luck--in a certain
+sense? If so, a most unpleasant prospect was in store for her. There
+was one way out of the difficulty. She had only to announce that she
+was a married woman and that sort of persecution would cease at once.
+She doubted, however, if the remedy would not be worse than the
+disease. She had grown to regard her matrimonial fetters with such
+loathing, that, rather than acknowledge, voluntarily, that she was
+bound about by them, and admit that her husband was an unspeakable
+creature in a felon's cell, she believed that she was ready to endure
+anything. Certainly she would sooner reject a dozen men a day.
+
+She came to the woodland glade she sought. It so chanced that the
+particular nook which she had learned, from experience, was the best to
+recline in was just on the other side of a rough fence. She crossed the
+fence, reclined at her ease on the mossy bank; and thought, and thought,
+and thought. On a sudden she was roused from her deepest day-dream by
+a voice which addressed to her an inquiry from above,--
+
+"Are you trespassing--or am I?"
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+
+                              TRESPASSING
+
+
+She looked up with a start--to find that a man was observing her who
+seemed to be unusually tall. She lay in a hollow, he stood on the top
+of the bank; so that perhaps their relative positions tended to
+exaggerate his apparent inches. But that he was tall was beyond a
+doubt. He was also broad. Her first feeling was, that she had never
+seen a man who was at once so tall and so broad across the shoulders.
+He was rather untidily dressed--in a grey tweed knickerbocker suit,
+with a Norfolk jacket, and a huge cap which was crammed right down on
+his head. He wore a flannel shirt, and a dark blue knitted tie, which
+was tied in a scrambling sailor's knot. Both hands were in the pockets
+of his jacket, which was wide open; and, altogether, the impression was
+conveyed to her, as she lay so far beneath him, that he was of a
+monstrous size.
+
+It struck her that his being where he was was an impertinence, which
+was rendered much greater by his venturing to address her; especially
+with such an inquiry. Merely raising herself on her elbow, she favoured
+him with a glance which was intended to crush him.
+
+"There can be no doubt as to who is trespassing as you must be
+perfectly well aware--you are."
+
+"I quite agree with you in thinking that there can be no doubt as to
+who is trespassing; but there, unfortunately, our agreement ends,
+because, as it happens, you are."
+
+"Do you suppose that I don't know which is my own property? I am Miss
+Arnott, of Exham Park--this is part of my ground."
+
+"I fancy, with all possible deference, that I know which is my property
+better than you appear to know which is yours. I am Hugh Morice, of Oak
+Dene, and, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, the ground on which
+we both are is mine."
+
+She rose to her feet a little hurriedly.
+
+"What authority have you for what you say? Are you trying to amuse
+yourself at my expense?"
+
+"Allow me to explain. You see that fence, which is in rather a
+doddering condition--it forms the boundary line between Exham Park and
+Oak Dene, a fact which I have a particular reason to remember. Once,
+before this was my ground, I was shooting in these woods. My bird--it
+was only a pigeon--dropped on the other side of that fence. I was no
+better acquainted with the landmarks then than you appear to be now.
+Not aware that there was any difference between this side and that, I
+was scrambling over the fence to retrieve my pigeon when I was pulled
+up short by some very plain words, pronounced in a very plain tone of
+voice. I won't tell you what the words were, because you might like
+them even less than I did. I looked up; and there was an old gentleman,
+who was flanked by two persons who were evidently keepers. He was one
+of the most eloquent old gentlemen I had ever met. He commenced by
+wanting to know what I meant by being about to defile his ground by the
+intrusion of my person. I replied that I wasn't aware that it was his
+ground, and that I wanted my pigeon. He asked me who I was. When I told
+him he informed me that he was Septimus Arnott, and desired me to
+inform all persons bearing my name what he thought of them. He thought
+a good deal--in a sense. He wound up by remarking that he would
+instruct his keepers, if ever they caught me on the wrong side of that
+fence, to put a charge of lead into me at sight. Towards the end of the
+interview I was as genially disposed as he was; so I retorted by
+assuring him that if ever I caught anyone from Exham Park on this side,
+I'd do the honours with a charge of lead. This is the exact spot on
+which that interview took place--he was there and I here. But the
+circumstances have changed--it is Exham Park who is now the trespasser.
+Shall I put a charge of lead into you?"
+
+"By all means--if you wish to."
+
+"I am not quite sure that I do wish to."
+
+"If you have the slightest inclination in that direction, pray don't
+hesitate."
+
+"You mightn't like it."
+
+"Don't consider my feelings, I beg. In such a matter surely you
+wouldn't allow my feelings to count."
+
+"No? You think not? I don't know. Perhaps you're right; but, you see, I
+haven't a gun. I can't put charges of lead into anything, or anyone,
+without one.
+
+"Pray don't let any trifling obstacle of that kind stand in your way.
+Permit me to send for one."
+
+"Would you? You're very good. Who would you send?"
+
+"Of course I would myself fetch you the indispensable weapon."
+
+"And how long would you be, do you imagine? Should I have time to smoke
+a pipe while you were going there and back?"
+
+Suddenly the lady drew herself up with a gesture which was possibly
+meant to be expressive of a judicious mingling of scorn with hauteur.
+
+"It is possible, if you prefer it. I will admit that it is probable
+that my uncle was rude to you. Do you intend to continue the tradition,
+and be rude to me?"
+
+"I was simply telling you a little anecdote, Miss Arnott."
+
+"I am obliged to you for taking so much trouble. Now, with your
+permission, I will return to what you state to be my side of the
+fence."
+
+"I state? Don't you state that that side of the fence is yours?"
+
+"My impression was that both sides were mine. I will have the matter
+carefully inquired into. If your statement proves to be correct I will
+see that a communication is sent to you, conveying my apologies for
+having been an unwitting trespasser on your estate."
+
+"Thank you. Can I lift you over?"
+
+"Lift me over!"
+
+The air of red-hot indignation with which his proposition was declined
+ought to have scorched him. It seemed, however, to have no effect on
+him of any sort. He continued to regard her from the top of the bank,
+with an air of indolent nonchalance, which was rapidly driving her to
+the conclusion that he was the most insolent person she had ever
+encountered. With a view, possibly, of showing the full absurdity of
+his offer of assistance, she placed both hands on the top of the fence,
+with the intention of vaulting over it. The intention was only
+partially fulfilled. During her wanderings with her father among their
+Cumberland hills she had become skilled in all manner of athletic
+exercises. Ordinarily she would have thought nothing of vaulting--or,
+for the matter of that, jumping--an insignificant fence. Perhaps her
+nervous system was more disorganised than she imagined. She caught her
+knee against the bar, and, instead of alighting gracefully on her feet,
+she rolled ignominiously over. She was up almost as soon as she was
+down, but not before he had cleared the fence at a bound, and was
+standing at her side. She exhibited no sign of gratitude for the
+rapidity with which he had come to her assistance. She merely put to
+him an icy question,--
+
+"Was it necessary that you should trespass also?"
+
+"Are you sure that you are not hurt? ankle not twisted, or anything of
+that kind?"
+
+"Quite sure. Be so good as to return to your own side."
+
+As he seemed to hesitate, a voice exclaimed, in husky tones,--
+
+"By----, I've a mind to shoot you now."
+
+He turned to see a man, between forty and fifty years of age, in the
+unmistakable habiliments of a gamekeeper, standing some twenty feet
+off, holding a gun in a fashion which suggested that it would need very
+little to induce him to put it to his shoulder and pull the trigger.
+Hugh Morice greeted him as if he were an old acquaintance.
+
+"Hullo, Jim Baker! So you're still in the land of the living?"
+
+Mr Baker displayed something more than surliness in his reply.
+
+"So are you, worse luck! What are you doing here? Didn't Mr Arnott tell
+me if I saw you on our land to let fly, and pepper you?"
+
+"I was just telling Miss Arnott the story. Odd that you should come
+upon the scene as corroborating evidence."
+
+"For two pins I'd let fly!"
+
+"Now, Baker, don't be an idiot. Take care how you handle that gun, or
+there'll be trouble; your hands don't seem too steady. You don't want
+me to give you another thrashing, do you? Have you forgotten the last
+one I gave you?"
+
+"Have I forgotten?" The man cursed his questioner with a vigour which
+was startling. "I'll never forget--trust me. I'll be even with you yet,
+trust me. By ---- if you say another word about it I'll let fly at you
+now!"
+
+Up went the stock of the gun to the speaker's shoulder, the muzzle
+pointing direct at Mr Morice. That gentleman neither moved nor spoke;
+Miss Arnott did both.
+
+"Baker, are you mad? Put down that gun. How dare you so misbehave
+yourself?"
+
+The gun was lowered with evident reluctance.
+
+"Mr Arnott, he told me to shoot him if ever I see him this side the
+fence."
+
+"I am mistress here now. You may think yourself fortunate if you're not
+presently introduced to a policeman."
+
+"I was only obeying orders, that's all I was doing."
+
+"Orders! How long ago is it since the orders to which you refer were
+given you?"
+
+Mr Morice interposed an answer,--
+
+"It's more than four years since I was near the place."
+
+The keeper turned towards him with a vindictive snarl.
+
+"Four years! what's four years? An order's an order if it's four years
+or forty. How was I to know that things are different, and that now
+you're to come poaching and trespassing whenever you please?"
+
+Miss Arnott was very stern.
+
+"Baker, take yourself away from here at once. You will hear of this
+again. Do you hear me? Go! without a word!"
+
+Mr Baker went, but as he went he delivered himself of several words.
+They were uttered to himself rather than to the general public, but
+they were pretty audible all the same. When he was out of sight and
+sound, the lady put a question to the gentleman,--
+
+"Do you think it possible that he could have been in earnest, and that
+he would have shot you?"
+
+"I daresay. I suspect that few things would have pleased him better.
+Why not? He would only have been carrying out instructions received."
+
+"But--Mr Morice, I wish you would not jest on such a subject! Has he a
+personal grudge against you?"
+
+"It depends upon what you call a grudge; you heard what he said. He
+used to live in that cottage near the gravel pits; and may do so still
+for all I know. Once, when I was passing, I heard a terrible
+hullabaloo. I invited myself inside to find that Mr Baker was
+correcting Mrs Baker with what seemed to me such unnecessary vigour
+that--I corrected him. The incident seems to linger in his memory, in
+spite of the passage of the years; and I shouldn't be at all surprised
+if, in his turn, he is still quite willing to correct me, with the aid
+of a few pellets of lead."
+
+"But he must be a dangerous character."
+
+"He's a character, at anyrate. I've always felt he was a little mad;
+when he's drunk he's stark mad. He's perhaps been having half a gallon
+now. Let me hasten to assure you that, I fancy, Baker's qualities were
+regarded by Mr Septimus Arnott, in the main, as virtues. Mr Arnott was
+himself a character; if I may be excused for saying so."
+
+"I never saw my uncle in his life, and knew absolutely nothing about
+him, except what my father used to tell me of the days when they were
+boys together."
+
+"If, in those days, he was anything like what he was afterwards, he
+must have been a curiosity. To make the whole position clear to you I
+should mention that my uncle was also a character. I am not sure that,
+taking him altogether, he was not the more remarkable character of the
+two. The Morices, of course, have been here since the flood. But when
+your uncle came my uncle detected in him a kindred spirit. They became
+intimates; inseparable chums, and a pair of curios I promise you they
+were, until they quarrelled--over a game of chess."
+
+"Of chess?"
+
+"Of chess. They used to play together three or four times a
+week--tremendous games. Until one evening my uncle insisted that your
+uncle had taken his hand off a piece, and wouldn't allow him to withdraw
+his move. Then the fur flew. Each called the other everything he could
+think of, and both had an extensive repertoire. The war which followed
+raged unceasingly; it's a mystery to me how they both managed to die in
+their beds."
+
+"And all because of a dispute over a game of chess?"
+
+"My uncle could quarrel about a less serious matter than a game of
+chess; he was a master of the art. He quarrelled with me--but that's
+another story; since when I've been in the out-of-the-way-corners of
+the world. I was in Northern Rhodesia when I heard that he was dead,
+and had left me Oak Dene. I don't know why--except that there has
+always been a Morice at Oak Dene, and that I am the only remaining
+specimen of the breed."
+
+"How strange. It is only recently that I learned--to my complete
+surprise--that Exham Park was mine."
+
+"It seems that we are both of us indebted to our uncles, dead; though
+apparently we neither of us owed much to them while they still were
+living. Well, are the orders to be perpetuated that I'm to be shot when
+seen on this side of the fence?"
+
+"I do not myself practise such methods."
+
+"They are drastic; though there are occasions on which drastic methods
+are the kindest. Since I only arrived yesterday I take it that I am the
+latest comer. It is your duty, therefore, to call on me. Do you propose
+to do your duty?"
+
+"I certainly do not propose to call on you, if that's what you mean."
+
+"Good. Then I'll call on you. I shall have the pleasure, Miss Arnott,
+of waiting on you, on this side of the fence, at a very early date. Do
+you keep a shot gun in the hall?"
+
+"Do you consider it good taste to persist in harping on a subject which
+you must perceive is distasteful?"
+
+"My taste was always bad."
+
+"That I can easily imagine."
+
+"There is something which I also can easily imagine."
+
+"Indeed?"
+
+"I can imagine that your uncle left you something besides Exham Park."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"A little of his temper."
+
+"Mr Morice! I have no wish to exchange retorts with you, but, from what
+you say, it is quite obvious that your uncle left you all his manners."
+
+"Thank you. Anything else?"
+
+"Yes, Mr Morice, there is something else. It is not my fault that we
+are neighbours."
+
+"Don't say that it's my misfortune."
+
+"And since you must have left many inconsolable friends behind you in
+Rhodesia there is no reason why we should continue to be neighbours."
+
+"Quite so."
+
+"Of course, whether you return to Rhodesia or remain here is a matter
+of complete indifference to me."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"But, should you elect to stay, you will be so good as to understand
+that, if you do call at Exham Park, you will be told that I am not at
+home. Good afternoon, Mr Morice, and good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye, Miss Arnott. I had a sort of premonition that those orders
+would be re-issued, and that I should be shot if I was seen this side."
+
+She had already gone some distance; but, on hearing this, stopping, she
+turned towards him again.
+
+"Possibly if we raise the fence to a sufficient height, that will keep
+you out."
+
+"Oh, I can scale any fence. No fence was ever constructed that I
+couldn't negotiate. You'll have to shoot."
+
+"Shall we? We shall see."
+
+"We shall--Miss Arnott?"
+
+She stopped again.
+
+"What is it you wish to say to me?"
+
+"Merely that I have in my mind some half-formed intention to call on
+you to-morrow."
+
+"You dare!"
+
+"You have no notion what I do dare."
+
+This time she was not tempted to a further rejoinder. He watched her
+as, straight as a dart, her head in the air, striding along the winding
+path, she vanished among the trees. He ruminated after she had gone,--
+
+"She's splendid! she magnificent! How she holds herself, and how she
+looks at you, and what eyes they are with which to look. I never saw
+anything like her, and I hope, for her own sake, she never saw anything
+like me. What a brute she must think me, and what a brute I am. I don't
+care; there's something about her which sets all my blood on fire,
+which rouses in me the instinct of the hunter. I wish old Baker would
+come along just now; gun or no gun, we'd have a pretty little argument.
+It might do me good. There's no doubt that what I said was true--the
+girl has her uncle's temper, if I've my uncle's manners; as I'm a
+sinful man I've as good as half a mind to marry her."
+
+The lady was unconscious of the compliments which, mentally, the
+gentleman was paying her. When, returning home, she entered the
+apartment where Mrs Plummer, apparently just roused from a peaceful
+doze, was waiting for her tea, she was in a flame of passion.
+
+"I have just left the most unendurable person I ever yet encountered,
+the most ill-mannered, the most clumsy, the most cowardly, the most
+stupid, the most absurd, the most unspeakable!"
+
+"My dear! who is this very superlative individual? what is his
+delightful name?"
+
+"His name!" For some occult reason Mrs Plummer's, under the
+circumstances, mild request, seemed to cause her passion to flame up
+higher. "What do I care what his name is? So far as I am concerned such
+a creature has no name!"
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+
+                  AN AUTHORITY ON THE LAW OF MARRIAGE
+
+
+The next day Mr Hugh Morice fulfilled his threat--he paid his
+ceremonial call at Exham Park. The word "ceremonial" is used advisedly,
+since nothing could have been more formal and decorous than his
+demeanour throughout.
+
+Miss Arnott and Mrs Plummer happened to be entertaining four or five
+people that afternoon, among them a Mr Pyecroft, a curate attached to
+one of Miss Arnott's three livings. He was favouring that lady with a
+graphic account of the difficulties encountered in endeavouring, in a
+country place, to arouse interest on any subject whatever, and was
+illustrating the position by describing the disappointments he had met
+with in the course of an attempt he had made to organise a series of
+local entertainments in aid of a new church organ, when his listener
+suddenly became conscious that a person had just entered the room, who,
+if she could believe her eyes, was none other than the unspeakable
+individual of the previous day. Not only was it unmistakably he, but he
+was actually--with an air of complete self-possession--marching
+straight across the room towards her. When he stood in front of her, he
+bowed and said,--
+
+"Permit me, Miss Arnott, to introduce myself to you. I am Hugh Morice,
+of Oak Dene, which, as you are probably aware, adjoins Exham Park. I
+only arrived two days ago, and, so soon as I learned that I was
+honoured by having you as a neighbour, I ventured to lose no time
+in--with your permission--making myself known to you."
+
+Miss Arnott looked at him with an expression on her countenance which
+was hardly encouraging. His own assurance was so perfect that it
+deprived her, for the moment, of her presence of mind. He wore a suit
+of dark blue serge, which made him seem huger even than he had done the
+day before. In the presence of Mr Pyecroft, and of the other people,
+she could scarcely assail this smiling giant, and remind him,
+pointedly, that she had forbidden him to call. Some sort of explanation
+would have to be forthcoming, and it was exactly an explanation which
+she desired to avoid. Observing that she seemed tongue-tied, the
+visitor continued,--
+
+"I have been so long a wanderer among savages that I have almost
+forgotten the teachings of my guide to good manners. I am quite
+unaware, for example, what, as regards calling, is the correct
+etiquette on an occasion when an unmarried man finds himself the
+next-door neighbour to an unmarried lady. As I could hardly expect you
+to call upon me I dared to take the initiative. What I feared most was
+that I might not find you in."
+
+The invitation was so obvious that the lady at once accepted it.
+
+"It is only by the merest accident that you have done so."
+
+Mr Morice was equal to the occasion. "I fancy, Miss Arnott, that for
+some of the happiest hours of our lives we are indebted to accidents.
+Ah, Pyecroft, so you have not deserted us."
+
+Mr Morice shook hands with Mr Pyecroft--Miss Arnott thought they looked
+a most incongruous couple--with an air of old comradeship, and
+presently was exchanging greetings with others of those present with a
+degree of heartiness which, to his hostess, made it seem impossible
+that she should have him shown the door. When all the other visitors
+had gone--including the unspeakable man--she found, to her amazement,
+that he had made a most favourable impression on Mrs Plummer. That lady
+began almost as soon as his back was turned.
+
+"What a delightful person Mr Morice is." Miss Arnott was so taken by
+surprise that she could do nothing but stare. Mrs Plummer went placidly
+on, "It is nice to be able just to look at him, the mere sight of him's
+a satisfaction. To a little woman the idea of a man of his size is such
+a comfort."
+
+The young lady's manner was not effusive.
+
+"We're not all of us fond of monstrosities."
+
+"Monstrosities! my dear! He's not a monstrosity, he's a perfect figure
+of a man, magnificently proportioned. You must admit that."
+
+"I don't."
+
+"And then his manners are so charming."
+
+"They never struck me like that."
+
+"No? I suppose one judges people as one finds them. I know he was
+particularly nice to me. By the way, that dreadful person you spoke of
+yesterday, you might tell me what his name is, so that I might be on my
+guard against him, should our paths happen to cross."
+
+"I repeat what I have already told you that, so far as I am concerned,
+he has no name; and anyhow, you wouldn't recognise him from my
+description if you did meet."
+
+It was odd, considering how much Miss Arnott disliked Mr Morice, how
+frequently he was destined to come, at anyrate, within her line of
+vision. And yet, perhaps, it was natural--because, although their
+houses were a couple of miles apart, their estates joined--they were
+neighbours. And then Miss Arnott was inclined to suspect that the
+gentleman went out of his way to bring about a meeting. Situated as
+they were, it was not a difficult thing to do.
+
+To a certain extent, the lady had accepted the position. That is, she
+had allowed the acquaintance to continue; being, indeed, more than half
+disposed to fear that she might not find it easy to refuse to know him
+altogether. But she had been careful to avoid any reference to that
+curious first encounter. He, on his part, had shown no disposition to
+allude to it. So there grew up between them a sort of casual intimacy.
+They saw each other often. When he spoke to her she spoke to him,
+though never at any greater length than, as it seemed to her, she could
+help.
+
+With the lessons she had received from the Earl of Peckham still fresh
+in her mind she bought herself a motor car; almost simultaneously with
+its appearance on the scene her relations with Hugh Morice began to be
+on a friendlier footing. She was sitting in it one day, talking to the
+lodge-keeper, when Mr Morice came striding by. At sight of it he at
+once approached.
+
+"That's a strange beast."
+
+She had become somewhat accustomed to his odd tricks of speech, and
+merely smiled a wintry smile.
+
+"You think so?"
+
+"It's not only a strange, it's a wonderful beast, since it holds in its
+hands no small portion of the future history of the world."
+
+"Are you referring to this particular machine?"
+
+"I am referring to all the machines of which that one's a type. They're
+going to repeat the performance of Puffing' Billy--produce a
+revolution. I wish you'd give me a ride."
+
+"I was just thinking of going in."
+
+"Put off going in for a few minutes--take me for a run."
+
+She looked at the chauffeur, who was quick to take the hint. Presently
+they were bowling along between the hedgerows, she conscious that his
+eyes were paying more attention to her than she quite relished. A fact
+of which his words immediately gave evidence.
+
+"You like it. This feeling of flight through the air, which you can
+command by touching a handle, supplies you with an evanescent interest
+in life which, in ordinary, everyday existence you find lacking."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Is it necessary that I should tell you? Do you wish me to?"
+
+"Do you mean that, as a general rule, I don't take an interest in
+things?"
+
+"Do you? At your age, in your position, you ought to take an interest
+in everything. But the impression you convey to my mind is that you
+don't, that you take an interest in nothing. You try to, sometimes,
+pretty hard. But you never quite succeed. I don't know why. You remind
+me, in some odd way, of the impersonal attitude of a spectator who
+looks on at something with which he never expects to have any personal
+concern."
+
+"I don't know what you're talking about, I don't believe you do either.
+You say the strangest things."
+
+"You don't find them strange, you understand them better than I do. I
+am many years older than you--ye Goths, how many! I am tolerably
+_blase_, as befits my age. But you, you are tired--mortally tired--of
+everything already. I've not yet reached that stage. You don't know
+what keenness means; thank goodness there are still a good many things
+which I am keen about. Just as something turns up for which you're on
+the point of really caring, a shadow steps from the back of your mind
+to the front, and stops you. I don't know what it is, but I know it's
+there."
+
+"I'm going back."
+
+As this man spoke something tugged at her heartstrings which filled her
+with a sort of terror. If he was beginning to regard her attitude
+towards life--of which she herself was only too hideously conscious--as
+a problem, the solution of which he had set himself to find out, what
+might the consequences not be? Then she could not stop to think. She
+swung the car round towards home. As if in obedience to her unspoken
+hint he changed the subject, speaking with that calm assumption of
+authority which galled her the more because she found herself so
+frequently compelled to submission.
+
+"You must teach me to drive this machine of yours."
+
+"My mechanician will be able to do that better than I can, I am myself
+only a tyro."
+
+"Thank you, I prefer that you should teach me. Which handle do you move
+to stop?" She showed him. "And which to start?" She showed him again.
+
+Before they parted, she had put him, however unwillingly, through quite
+a small course of elementary instruction. In consequence of which
+she had a bad quarter of an hour, when, later, she was in her own
+sitting-room, alone.
+
+"He frightens me! He makes me do things I don't want to do; and
+then--he seems to know me better than I know myself. Is it so obvious
+that I find it difficult to take a real interest in things? or has he a
+preternaturally keen sense of perception? Either way it isn't nice for
+me. It's true enough; nothing does interest me. How should it? What
+does money, and all that matter; when there's that--shadow--in the
+prison, coming closer to me, day by day? I believe that being where I
+am--Miss Arnott of Exham Park--makes it worse, because if it weren't
+for the shadow, it would be so different--so different!"
+
+That night she dreamed of Hugh Morice. She and he were on the motor car
+together, flying through the sunshine, on and on and on, happy as the
+day was bright, and the road was fair. Suddenly the sun became
+obscured, all the world was dark; they were approaching a chasm.
+Although it was so dark she knew that it was there. In a wild frenzy of
+fear she tried to stop the car, to find, all at once, that it had no
+brake. She made to leap out on to the road, but Mr Morice seized her
+round the waist and held her. In another moment they were dashing over
+the edge of an abyss, into the nameless horrors which lay below.
+
+It was not a pleasant dream, it did not leave an agreeable impression
+on her mind after she was awake. But dreams are only dreams. Sensible
+people pay no heed to them. Miss Arnott proved herself to be sensible
+at least in that respect. She did not, ever afterwards, refuse him a
+seat in her car, because she had once, in a nightmare, come to grief in
+his society. On the contrary, she not only took him for other drives,
+but--imitating her own experience with the Earl of Peckham, when, after
+a while--it was a very little while--he had attained to a certain
+degree of proficiency, she suffered him to drive her. And, as she had
+done, he liked driving so much that, before long, he also had an
+automobile of his own.
+
+Then a new phase of the affair commenced. It was, of course, necessary
+that--with a view of extending her experience, and increasing her
+knowledge of motor cars--she should try her hand at driving his. She
+tried her hand, a first and a second time, perhaps a third. She
+admitted that his car was not a bad one. It had its points--but slight
+vibration, little noise, scarcely any smell. It ran sweetly, was a good
+climber, easy to steer. Certainly a capital car. So much she was ready
+to allow. But, at the same time, she could not but express her opinion
+that, on the whole, hers was a better one. There they joined issue. At
+first, Mr Morice was disposed to doubt, he was inclined to think that
+perhaps, for certain reasons, the lady's car might be a shade the
+superior. But, by degrees, as he became more accustomed to his new
+possession, he changed his mind. He was moved to state his conviction
+that, as a matter of fact, the superiority lay with his own car.
+
+Whereupon both parties proceeded to demonstrate with which of the
+pair the palm of merit really lay. They ran all sorts of trials
+together--trials which sometimes resulted in extremely warm arguments;
+and by which, somehow, very little was proved. At anyrate, each party
+was always ready to discount the value of the conclusion at which the
+other had arrived.
+
+One fact was noticeable--as evidence of the keen spirit of emulation.
+Wherever one car was the other was nearly sure to be somewhere near at
+hand.
+
+Mrs Plummer, who had a gift of silence, said little. But one remark she
+made did strike Miss Arnott as peculiar.
+
+"Mr Morice doesn't seem to have so many friends, or even acquaintances,
+as I should have expected in a man in his position."
+
+"How do you know he hasn't?"
+
+"I say he doesn't seem to have. He never has anyone at his own house,
+and he never goes to anyone else's. He always seems to be alone."
+
+Miss Arnott was still. Mrs Plummer had not accentuated it in the
+slightest degree; yet the young lady wondered in what sense--in that
+construction--she had used the word "alone."
+
+One day, when she was in town, Miss Arnott did a singular thing. Having
+deposited Mrs Plummer in a large drapery establishment, with peremptory
+instructions to make certain considerable purchases, she went off in a
+hansom by herself to an address in the Temple. Having arrived, she
+perceived in the hall of the house she had entered a board, on which
+were painted a number of names. Her glance rested on one--First floor,
+Mr Whitcomb. Without hesitation she ascended to the first floor, until
+she found herself confronted by a door on which that name appeared in
+black letters. She knocked; the door was opened by a very young
+gentleman.
+
+"Can I see Mr Whitcomb?" she inquired.
+
+"What name? Have you an appointment?"
+
+"I have not an appointment, and my name is of no consequence. I wish to
+see Mr Whitcomb on very particular business."
+
+The young gentleman looked at her askance, as if he was of
+opinion--which he emphatically was--that she was not at all the sort of
+person he was accustomed to see outside that door.
+
+"Mr Whitcomb doesn't generally see people without an appointment,
+especially if he doesn't know their names; but if you'll step inside,
+I'll see if he's engaged."
+
+She stepped inside to find herself in an apartment in which there were
+several other young gentlemen, of somewhat riper years; one and all of
+whom, she immediately became conscious, began to take the liveliest
+interest in her. Soon there appeared a grey-haired man, who held a pair
+of spectacles between the fingers of his right hand.
+
+"May I ask what your name is? and what is the nature of the business on
+which you wish to see Mr Whitcomb?"
+
+"I have already explained that my name doesn't matter. And I can only
+state my business to Mr Whitcomb himself." Then she added, as if struck
+by the look of doubt in the grey-haired man's face, "Pray don't imagine
+that I am here to beg for subscriptions to a charity or any nonsense of
+that kind. I wish to see Mr Whitcomb about something very important."
+
+The grey-headed man smiled faintly, apparently amused by something in
+the caller's manner, or appearance. Departing whence he came he almost
+immediately reappeared, and beckoned to her with his hand.
+
+"Mr Whitcomb is very much engaged, but he will manage to spare you five
+minutes."
+
+"I daresay I sha'n't want to keep him longer."
+
+She found herself in a spacious room, which was principally furnished,
+as it seemed to her, with books. At a table, which was almost entirely
+covered with books, both open and shut, stood a tall man, with
+snow-white hair, who bowed to her as she entered.
+
+"You wish to see me?"
+
+"You are Mr Whitcomb?"
+
+"That is my name. How can I serve you?"
+
+She seated herself on the chair towards which he pointed. Each looked
+at the other for some seconds, in silence. Then she spoke.
+
+"I want you to tell me on what grounds a wife can obtain a divorce from
+her husband."
+
+Mr Whitcomb raised his eyebrows and smiled.
+
+"I think, madam, that it may have been a solicitor you wanted. I,
+unfortunately, am only a barrister. I fear you have made a mistake."
+
+"I have not made a mistake; how have I made a mistake? I saw in a paper
+the other day that you were the greatest living authority on the law of
+marriage."
+
+"It was very good of the paper to say so. Since I am indebted for your
+presence here to so handsome a compliment, I will waive the point of
+etiquette and inform you--of what you, surely, must be already
+aware--that the grounds on which a divorce may be obtained are various."
+
+"I know that; that isn't what I mean. What I specially want to know is
+this--can a woman get a divorce from her husband because he gets sent
+to prison?"
+
+"Because he gets sent to prison? For doing what?"
+
+"For--for swindling; because he's a scoundrel."
+
+Mr Whitcomb's eyebrows went up again.
+
+"The idea that a marriage may be dissolved because one of the parties
+is guilty of felony, and is consequently sentenced to a term of
+imprisonment, is a novel one to me."
+
+"Not if a girl finds out that the man who has married her is a villain
+and a thief? A thief, mind."
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I find that that would be no ground for dissolution."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"My dear young lady, you were good enough to say that some paper or
+other credited me with a knowledge of the laws dealing with the subject
+of marriage. I can assure you that on that point there is no doubt
+whatever."
+
+"Is that so?" The girl's lips were tightly compressed, her brows knit.
+"Then there are no means whatever by which a wife can be rid of a
+husband whom she discovers to be a rogue and a rascal?"
+
+"Not merely because he is a rogue and a rascal; except by the act of
+God."
+
+"What do you mean by the act of God?"
+
+"If, for example, he should die."
+
+"If he should die? I see! There is no way by which she can be released
+from him except by--death. Thank you, that is all I wanted to know."
+
+She laid on his table what, to his surprise, he perceived to be a
+twenty-pound note.
+
+"My dear young lady, what is this?"
+
+"That is your fee. I don't want to occupy your time or obtain
+information from you for nothing."
+
+"But you have done neither. Permit me to return you this. That is not
+the way in which I do business; in this instance, the honour of having
+been consulted by you is a sufficient payment. Before you go, however,
+let me give a piece of really valuable advice. If you have a friend who
+is in any matrimonial trouble, persuade her to see a respectable
+solicitor at once, and to place the whole facts before him
+unreservedly. He may be able to show her a way out of her difficulty
+which would never have occurred to her."
+
+He commented--inwardly--on his visitor, after her departure.
+
+"That's either a very simple-minded young woman or a most unusual
+character. Fancy her coming to me with such an inquiry! She has got
+herself into some matrimonial mess, most probably, without the
+cognisance of her friends. Unless I am mistaken she is the kind of
+young woman who, if she has made up her mind to get out of it, will get
+out of it; if not by fair means, then--though I hope not!--by foul."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+
+                           MR MORICE PRESUMES
+
+
+One day a desire seized Miss Arnott to revisit the place where she had
+first met Mr Morice. She had not been there since. That memorable
+encounter had spoilt it for her. It had been her custom to wander there
+nearly every fine day. But, since it had been defiled by such a memory,
+for her, its charm had fled.
+
+Still, as the weeks went by, it dawned upon her by degrees, that, after
+all, there was no substantial reason why she should turn her back on it
+for ever. It was a delightful spot; so secluded, so suited to solitary
+meditation.
+
+"I certainly do not intend," she told herself, "to allow that
+man"--with an accent on the "that"--"to prevent my occasionally visiting
+one of the prettiest parts of my own property. It would be mere affectation
+on my part to pretend that the place will ever be to me the same again;
+but that is no reason why I should never take a walk in that
+direction."
+
+It was pleasant weather, sunny, not too warm and little wind. Just the
+weather for a woodland stroll, and, also, just the weather for a motor
+ride. That latter fact was particularly present to her mind, because
+she happened to be undergoing one of those little experiences which
+temper an automobilist's joys. The machine was in hospital. She had
+intended to go for a long run to-day, but yesterday something had all
+at once gone wrong with the differential, the clutch, the bevel gear or
+something or other. She herself did not quite know what, or,
+apparently, anyone else either. As a result, the car, instead of flying
+with her over the sun-lit roads, was being overhauled by the nearest
+local experts.
+
+That was bad enough. But what almost made it worse was the additional
+fact that Hugh Morice's car was flying over the aforesaid country roads
+with him. That her car should have broken down, though ever so
+slightly, and his should not--that altogether inferior article, of
+which he was continually boasting in the most absurd manner--was gall
+and wormwood.
+
+The accident, which had rendered her own car for the moment
+unavailable, had something to do with her stroll; the consciousness
+that "that man" was miles away on his had more.
+
+"At anyrate I sha'n't run the risk of any more impertinent
+interferences with my privacy. Fortunately, so far as I know, there is
+no one else in the neighbourhood who behaves quite as he does. So, as
+he is risking his life on that noisy machine of his, I am safe. I only
+hope he won't break his neck on it; there never was such a reckless
+driver."
+
+This pious wish of hers was destined to receive an instant answer.
+Hardly had the words been uttered, than, emerging from the narrow path,
+winding among the trees and bushes, along which she had been wandering,
+she received ample proof that Mr Morice's neck still remained unbroken.
+The gentleman himself was standing not fifty paces from where she was.
+So disagreeably was she taken by surprise that she would have
+immediately withdrawn, and returned at the top of her speed by the way
+she had come, had it not been for two things. One was that he saw her
+as soon as she saw him; and the other that she also saw something else,
+the sight of which filled her with amazement.
+
+The first reason would not have been sufficient to detain her;
+although, so soon as he caught sight of her, he hailed her in his usual
+hearty tones. The terms of courtesy--or rather of discourtesy--on which
+these two stood towards each other were of such a nature that she held
+herself at liberty wholly to ignore him whenever she felt inclined.
+More than once when they had parted they had been on something less
+than speaking terms. For days together she had done her very best to
+cut him dead. Then, when at last, owing to his calm persistency, the
+acquaintance was renewed, he evinced not the slightest consciousness
+of its having ever been interrupted. Therefore she would not have
+hesitated to have turned on her heels, and walked away without a
+word--in spite of his salutation, had it not been for the something
+which amazed her.
+
+The fence had been moved!
+
+At first she thought that her eyes, or her senses, were playing her a
+trick. But a moment's inspection showed her that the thing was so. The
+old wooden, lichen-covered rails had been taken away for a space of
+sixty or seventy feet; and, instead, a little distance farther back, on
+the Oak Dene land, a solid, brand-new fence had been erected; standing
+in a position which conveyed the impression that the sheltered nook to
+which--in her ignorance of boundaries--Miss Arnott had been so
+attached, and in which Mr Morice first discovered her, was part and
+parcel of Exham Park instead of Oak Dene.
+
+It was some seconds before the lady realised exactly what had happened.
+When she did, she burst out on Mr Morice with a question.
+
+"Who has done this?"
+
+The gentleman, who stood with his back against a huge beech tree, took
+his pipe from between his lips, and smiled.
+
+"The fairies."
+
+"Then the fairies will soon be introduced to a policeman. You did it."
+
+"Not with my own hands, I assure you. At my time of life I am beyond
+that sort of thing."
+
+"How dare you cause my fence to be removed?"
+
+"Your fence? I was not aware it was your fence."
+
+"You said it was my fence."
+
+"Pardon me--never. I could not be guilty of such a perversion of the
+truth."
+
+"Then whose fence was it?"
+
+"It was mine. That is, it was my uncle's, and so, in the natural course
+of things, it became mine. It was like this. At one time, hereabouts,
+there was no visible boundary line between the two properties. I fancy
+it was a question of who should be at the expense of erecting one.
+Finally, my uncle loosed his purse-strings. He built this fence, with
+the wood out of his own plantations--even your friend Mr Baker will be
+able to tell you so much--the object being to keep out trespassers from
+Exham Park."
+
+"Then, as you have removed your fence, I shall have to put up one of my
+own. I have no intention of allowing innocent persons, connected with
+Exham Park, to trespass--unconsciously--on land belonging to Oak Dene."
+
+"Miss Arnott, permit your servant to present a humble petition."
+
+He held his cap in his hands, suggesting deference; but in the eyes was
+that continual suspicion of laughter which made it difficult to tell
+when he was serious. It annoyed Miss Arnott to find that whenever she
+encountered that glimmer of merriment she found it so difficult to
+preserve the rigidity of decorum which she so ardently desired. Now,
+although she meant to be angry, and was angry, when she encountered
+that peculiar quality in his glance, it was really hard to be as angry
+as she wished.
+
+"What objectionable remark have you to make now?"
+
+"This--your servant desires to be forgiven."
+
+"If the fence was yours, you were at liberty to do what you liked with
+it. You don't want to be forgiven for doing what you choose with your
+own. You can pull down all the fence for all I care."
+
+"Exactly; that is very good of you. It is not precisely for that I
+craved forgiveness. Your servant has ventured to do a bold thing."
+
+"Please don't call yourself my servant. If there is a ridiculous thing
+which you can say it seems as if you were bound to say it. Nothing you
+can do would surprise me. Pray, what particular thing have you been
+doing now? I thought you were going to Southampton on your car?"
+
+"The car's in trouble."
+
+"What's the matter with it?"
+
+"One man says one thing; another says another. I say--since this is the
+second time it's been in trouble this week--the thing's only fit for a
+rummage sale."
+
+"I have never concealed my opinion from you."
+
+"You haven't. Your opinion, being unbiassed by facts, is always the
+same; mine--depends. What, by the way, is just now your opinion of your
+own one? Lately it never seems to be in going order."
+
+"That's preposterous nonsense, as you are perfectly well aware. But I
+don't mean to be drawn into a senseless wrangle. I came here hoping to
+escape that sort of thing."
+
+"And you found me, which is tragic. However, we are wandering from the
+subject on to breezy heights. As I previously remarked, I have ventured
+to do a bold thing."
+
+"And I have already inquired, what unusually bold thing is it you have
+done?"
+
+"This."
+
+They were at some little distance from each other; he on one side of
+the newly-made fence, she, where freshly-turned sods showed that the
+old fence used to be. He took a paper from his pocket, and, going close
+up to his side of the fence, held it out to her in his outstretched
+hand. She, afar off, observed both it and him distrustfully.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"This? It's a paper with something written on it. We'll call it a
+document. Come and look at it. It's harmless. It's not a pistol--or a
+gun."
+
+"I doubt if it contains anything which is likely to be of the slightest
+interest to me. Read what is on it."
+
+"I would rather you read it yourself. Come and take it, if you please."
+
+He spoke in that tone of calm assurance which was wont to affect her in
+a fashion which she herself was at a loss to understand. She resented
+bitterly its suggestion of authority; yet, before she was able to give
+adequate expression to her resentment, she was apt to find herself
+yielding entire obedience, as on the present occasion. In her
+indignation at the thought that he should issue his orders to her, as
+if she were his servant, she was more than half disposed to pick up a
+clod of earth, or a stone, and, like some street boy, hurl it at him
+and run away. She refrained from doing this, being aware that such a
+proceeding would not increase her dignity; and, also, because she did
+what he told her. She marched up to the fence and took the paper from
+his hand.
+
+"I don't want it; you needn't suppose so. I've not the faintest desire
+to know what's on it." He simply looked at her with a glint of laughter
+in his big grey eyes. "I've half a mind to tear it in half and return
+it to you."
+
+"You won't do that."
+
+"Then I'll take it with me and look at it when I get home, if I look at
+it at all."
+
+"Read it now."
+
+She opened and read it; or tried to. "I don't understand what it's
+about; it seems to be so much gibberish. What is the thing?"
+
+"It's a conveyance."
+
+"A conveyance? What do you mean?"
+
+"Being interpreted, it's a legal instrument which conveys to you and to
+your heirs for ever the fee-simple of--that."
+
+"That?"
+
+"That." He was pointing to the piece of land which lay within the
+confines of the newly-made fence. "That nook--that dell--that haven in
+which I saw you first, because you were under the impression it was
+yours. I was idiot enough to disabuse your mind, not being conscious,
+then, of what a fool I was. My idiocy has rankled ever since. However,
+it may have been of aforetime your lying there, cradled on that turf,
+has made of it consecrated ground. I guessed it then; I know it now.
+Then you fancied it was your own; now it assuredly is, you hold the
+conveyance in your hand."
+
+"Mr Morice, what are you talking about? I don't in the least
+understand.'
+
+"I was only endeavouring to explain what is the nature of the document
+you hold. Henceforward that rood of land--or thereabouts--is yours. If
+I set foot on it, you will be entitled to put into me a charge of
+lead."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you have given it me? Do you expect me to
+accept a gift--"
+
+"Miss Arnott, the time for saying things is past. The transaction is
+concluded--past redemption. That land is yours as certainly as you
+are now standing on it; nothing you can say or do can alter that
+well-established fact by so much as one jot or tittle. The matter is
+signed, sealed and settled; entered in the archives of the law. Protest
+from you will be a mere waste of time."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"As you please. Take that document to your lawyer; lay it before him;
+he will soon tell you whether or not I speak the truth. By the way, I
+will take advantage of this opportunity to make a few remarks to you
+upon another subject. Miss Arnott, I object to you for one reason."
+
+"For one reason only? That is very good of you. I thought you objected
+to me for a thousand reasons."
+
+"Your irony is justified. Then we will put it that I object to you for
+one reason chiefly."
+
+"Mr Morice, do you imagine that I care why you object to me? Aren't you
+aware that you are paying me the highest compliment within your power
+by letting me know that you do object to me? Do you suppose that, in
+any case, I will stand here and listen to your impertinent attempts at
+personal criticism?"
+
+"You will stand there, and you will listen; but I don't propose to
+criticise you, either impertinently or otherwise, but you will stand
+and listen to what I have to say." Such a sudden flame came into Mr
+Hugh Morice's eyes that the girl, half frightened, half she knew not
+what, remained speechless there in front of him. He seemed all at once
+to have grown taller, and to be towering above her like some giant
+against whose irresistible force it was vain to try and struggle. "The
+chief reason why I object to you, Miss Arnott, is because you are so
+rich."
+
+"Mr Morice!"
+
+"In my small way, I'm well to do. I can afford to buy myself a motor. I
+can even afford to pay for its repairs; and, in the case of a car like
+mine, that means something."
+
+"I can believe that, easily."
+
+"Of course you can. But, relatively, compared to you, I'm a pauper, and
+I don't like it."
+
+"And yet you think that I'll accept gifts from you--valuable gifts?"
+
+"What I would like is, that a flaw should be found in your uncle's
+will; or the rightful heir turn up; or something happen which would
+entail your losing every penny you have in the world."
+
+"What delightful things you say."
+
+"Then, if you were actually and literally a pauper I might feel that
+you were more on an equality with me.
+
+"Why should you wish to be on an equality with me?"
+
+"Why? Don't you know?" On a sudden she began to tremble so that she
+could scarcely stand. "I see that you do know. I see it by the way the
+blood comes and goes in your cheeks; by the light which shines out of
+your eyes; by the fashion in which, as you see what is in mine, you
+stand shivering there. You know that I would like to be on an equality
+with you because I love you; and because it isn't flattering to my
+pride to know that, in every respect, you are so transcendently above
+me, and that, compared to you, I am altogether such a thing of clay. I
+don't want to receive everything and to give nothing. I am one of those
+sordid animals who like to think that their wives-who-are-to-be will be
+indebted to them for something besides their bare affection."
+
+"How dare you talk to me like this?"
+
+She felt as if she would have given anything to have been able to turn
+and flee, instead of seeming to stultify herself by so halting a
+rejoinder; but her feet were as if they were rooted to the ground.
+
+"Do you mean, how dare I tell you that I love you? Why, I'd dare to
+tell you if you were a queen upon your throne and I your most
+insignificant subject. I'd dare to tell you if I knew that the telling
+would bring the heavens down. I'd dare to tell you if all the
+gamekeepers on your estate were behind you there, pointing their guns
+at me, and I was assured they'd pull their triggers the instant I had
+told. Why should I not dare to tell you that I love you? I'm a man;
+and, after all, you're but a woman, though so rare an one. I dare to
+tell you more. I dare to tell you that the first time I saw you lying
+there, on that grassy cushion, I began to love you then. And it has
+grown since, until now, it consumes me as with fire. It has grown to be
+so great, that, mysterious and strange--and indeed, incredible though
+it seems--I've a sort of inkling somewhere in my bosom, that one day
+yet I'll win you for my wife. What do you say to that?"
+
+"I say that you don't know what you're talking about. That you're
+insane."
+
+"If that be so, I've a fancy that it's a sort of insanity which, in
+howsoever so slight a degree, is shared by you. Come closer."
+
+He leaned over the fence. Almost before she knew it, he had his arms
+about her; had drawn her close to him, and had kissed her on the mouth.
+She struck at him with her clenched fists; and, fighting like some wild
+thing, tearing herself loose, rushed headlong down the woodland path,
+as if Satan were at her heels.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+
+                            THE LADY WANDERS
+
+
+That was the beginning of a very bad time for Mrs Plummer.
+
+She was sitting peacefully reading--she was not one of those ladies who
+indulge in "fancy work," and was always ready to confess that never,
+under any circumstances, if she could help it, would she have a needle
+in her hand--when Miss Arnott came rushing into the room in a condition
+which would have been mildly described as dishevelled. She was a young
+lady who was a little given to vigorous entrances and exits, and was
+not generally, as regards her appearance, a disciple of what has been
+spoken of as "the bandbox brigade." But on that occasion she moved Mrs
+Plummer, who was not easily moved in that direction, to an exhibition
+of surprise.
+
+"My dear child! what have you been doing to yourself, and where have
+you been?"
+
+"I've been to the woods. Mrs Plummer, I've come to tell you that we're
+going abroad."
+
+"Going abroad? Isn't that rather a sudden resolution? I thought you had
+arranged--"
+
+"Never mind what I've arranged. We're going abroad to-morrow, if we
+can't get away to-night."
+
+"To-morrow? To-night? My child, are you in earnest?"
+
+"Very much so. That is, I don't wish to put any constraint on you. You,
+of course, are at liberty to go or stay, exactly as you please. I
+merely wish to say that I am going abroad, whether you come with me or
+whether you don't; and that I intend to start either to-night or
+to-morrow morning."
+
+They left the next morning. The packing was done that night. At an
+early hour they went up to town; at eleven o'clock they started for the
+Continent. That evening they dined in Paris. Mrs Plummer would have
+liked to remonstrate--and did remonstrate so far as she dared; but it
+needed less sagacity than she possessed to enable her to see that, in
+Miss Arnott's present mood, the limits of daring might easily be
+passed. When she ventured to suggest that before their departure Mr
+Stacey should be consulted, the young lady favoured her with a little
+plain speaking.
+
+"Why should I consult Mr Stacey? He is only my servant."
+
+"Your servant? My dear!"
+
+"He renders me certain services, for which I pay him. Doesn't that mean
+that, in a certain sense, he's my servant? I have authority over him,
+but he has none over me--not one iota. He was my trustee; but, as I
+understand it, his trusteeship ceased when I entered into actual
+possession of my uncle's property. He does as I tell him, that's all. I
+shouldn't dream of consulting him as to my personal movements--nor
+anyone. As, in the future, my movements may appear to you to be
+erratic, please, Mrs Plummer, let us understand each other now. You are
+my companion--good! I have no objection. When we first met, you told me
+that my liberty would be more complete with you than without you. I
+assure you, on my part, that I do not intend to allow you to interfere
+with my perfect freedom of action in the least degree. I mean to go
+where I please, when I please, how I please, and I want no criticism.
+You can do exactly as you choose; I shall do as I choose. I don't
+intend to allow you, in any way whatever, to be a clog upon my
+movements. The sooner we understand each other perfectly on that point
+the better it will be for both sides. Don't you think so?"
+
+Mrs Plummer had to think so.
+
+"I'm sure that if you told me you meant to start in ten minutes for the
+North Pole, you'd find me willing; that is, if you'd be willing to take
+me with you."
+
+"Oh, I'd be willing to take you, so long as you don't even hint at a
+disinclination to be taken."
+
+They stayed in Paris for two days. Then they wandered hither and
+thither in Switzerland. Everywhere, it seemed, there were too many
+people.
+
+"I want to be alone," declared Miss Arnott. "Where there isn't a soul
+to speak to except you and Evans,"--Evans was her maid--"you two don't
+count. But I can't get away from the crowds; they're even on the tops
+of the mountains. I hate them."
+
+Mrs Plummer sighed; being careful, however, to conceal the sigh from
+Miss Arnott. It seemed to her that the young lady had an
+incomprehensible objection to everything that appealed to anyone else.
+She avoided hotels where the cooking was decent, because other people
+patronised them. She eschewed places where there was something to be
+obtained in the way of amusement, because other reasonable creatures
+showed a desire to be amused. She shunned beauty spots, merely because
+she was not the only person in the world who liked to look upon the
+beauties of nature. Having hit upon an apparently inaccessible retreat,
+from the ordinary tourist point of view, in the upper Engadine, where,
+according to Mrs Plummer, the hotel was horrible, and there was nothing
+to do, and nowhere to go, there not being a level hundred yards within
+miles, the roads being mere tracks on the mountain sides, she did show
+some disposition to rest awhile. Indeed, she showed an inclination to
+stay much longer than either Mrs Plummer or Evans desired. Those two
+were far from happy.
+
+"What a young lady in her position can see in a place like this beats
+me altogether. The food isn't fit for a Christian, and look at the room
+we have to eat it in; it isn't even decently furnished. There's not a
+soul to speak to, and nothing to do except climb up and down the side
+of a wall. She'll be brought in one day--if they ever find her--nothing
+but a bag of bones; you see if she isn't!"
+
+In that strain Evans frequently eased her mind, or tried to.
+
+To this remote hamlet, however, in course of time, other people began
+to come. They not only filled the hotel, which was easy, since Miss
+Arnott already had most of it, and would have had all, if the landlord,
+who was a character, had not insisted on keeping certain rooms for
+other guests; but they also overflowed into the neighbouring houses.
+These newcomers filled Miss Arnott with dark suspicions. When indulging
+in her solitary expeditions one young man in particular, named
+Blenkinsop, developed an extraordinary knack of turning up when she
+least expected him.
+
+"I believe I'm indebted to you for these people coming here."
+
+This charge she levelled at Mrs Plummer, who was amazed.
+
+"To me! Why, they're all complete strangers to me; I never saw one of
+them before, and haven't the faintest notion where they come from or
+who they are.
+
+"All the same, I believe I am; to you or to Evans; probably to both."
+
+"My dear, what do you mean? The things you say!"
+
+"It's the things you say, that's what I mean. You and Evans have been
+talking to the people here; you have been telling them who I am, and a
+great many things you have no right to tell them. They've been telling
+people down in the valley, and the thing has spread; how the rich
+Arnott girl, who has so much money she herself doesn't know how much,
+is stopping up here all alone. I know. These creatures have come up in
+consequence. That man Blenkinsop as good as told me this afternoon that
+he only came because he heard that I was here."
+
+"My dear, what can you expect? You can't hide your light under a
+bushel. You would have much more real solitude in a crowd than in a
+place like this."
+
+"Should I? We shall see. If this sort of thing occurs again I shall
+send you and Evans home. I shall drop my own name, and take a
+pseudonym; and I shall go into lodgings, and live on fifty francs a
+week--then we'll see if I sha'n't be left alone."
+
+When Mrs Plummer retailed these remarks to Evans, the lady's maid--who
+had already been the recipient of a few observations on her own
+account--expressed herself with considerable frankness on the subject
+of her mistress.
+
+"I believe she's mad--I do really. I don't mean that she's bad enough
+for a lunatic asylum or anything like that; but that she has a screw
+loose, and that there's something wrong with her, I'm pretty nearly
+sure. Look at the fits of depression she has--with her quite young and
+everything to make her all the other way. Look how she broods. She
+might be like the party in the play who'd murdered sleep, the way she
+keeps awake of nights. I know she reads till goodness knows what time;
+and often and often I don't believe she has a wink of sleep all night
+It isn't natural--I know I shouldn't like it if it was me. She might
+have done some dreadful crime, and be haunted by it, the way that she
+goes on--she might really."
+
+It was, perhaps, owing to the fact that the unfortunate lady
+practically had no human society except the lady's maid's that Mrs
+Plummer did not rebuke her more sharply for indulging in such free and
+easy comments on the lady to whom they were both indebted. She did
+observe that Evans ought not to say such things; but, judging from
+certain passages in a letter which, later on, she sent to Mrs Stacey,
+it is possible that the woman's words had made a greater impression
+than she had cared to admit.
+
+They passed from the Engadine to Salmezzo, a little village which
+nestles among the hills which overlook Lake Como. It was from there
+that the letter in question was written. After a page or two about
+nothing in particular it went on like this:--
+
+"I don't want to make mountains out of molehills, and I don't wish you
+to misunderstand me; but I am beginning to wonder if there is not
+something abnormal about the young lady whom I am supposed to chaperon.
+In so rich, so young, and so beautiful a girl--and I think she grows
+more beautiful daily--this horror of one's fellow-creatures--carried to
+the extent she carries it--is in itself abnormal. But, lately, there
+has been something more. She is physically, or mentally, unwell; which
+of the two I can't decide. I am not in the least bit morbid; but,
+really, if you had been watching her--and, circumstanced as I am, you
+can't help watching her--you would begin to think she must be haunted.
+It's getting on my nerves. Usually, I should describe her as one of the
+most self-possessed persons I had ever met; but, during the last week
+or two, she has taken to starting--literally--at shadows.
+
+"The other day, at the end of the little avenue of trees which runs in
+front of my bedroom, right before my eyes, she stopped and leaned
+against one of the trees, as if for support. I wondered what she meant
+by it--the attitude was such an odd one. Presently a man came along the
+road, and strode past the gate. The nearer he came the more she slunk
+behind the tree. When he had passed she crouched down behind the tree,
+and began to cry. How she did cry! While I was hesitating whether I
+ought to go to her or not, apparently becoming conscious that she might
+be overlooked, she suddenly got up and--still crying--rushed off among
+the trees.
+
+"Now who did she think that man was she heard coming along the road?
+Why did she cry like that when she found it wasn't he? Were they tears
+of relief or disappointment? It seemed very odd.
+
+"Again, one afternoon she went for a drive with me; it is not often
+that she will go anywhere with me, especially for a drive, but that
+afternoon the suggestion actually came from her. After we had gone some
+distance we alighted from the vehicle to walk to a point from which a
+famous view can be obtained. All at once, stopping, she caught me by
+the arm.
+
+"'Who's that speaking?' she asked. Up to then I had not been conscious
+that anyone was speaking. But, as we stood listening, I gradually
+became conscious, in the intense silence, of a distant murmur of voices
+which was just, and only just, audible. Her hearing must be very acute.
+'It is an English voice which is speaking,' she said. She dragged me
+off the path among the shadow of the trees. She really did drag; but I
+was so taken aback by the extraordinary look which came upon her face,
+and by the strangeness of her tone, that I was incapable of offering
+the least resistance. On a sudden she had become an altogether
+different person; a dreadful one, it seemed to me. Although I was
+conscious of the absurdity of our crouching there among the trees, I
+could not say so--simply because I was afraid of her. At last she said,
+as if to herself, 'It's not his voice.' Then she gave a gasp, or a
+groan, or sigh--I don't know what it was. I could feel her shuddering;
+it affected me most unpleasantly. Presently two perfectly inoffensive
+young Englishmen, who were staying at our hotel, came strolling by.
+Fortunately they did not look round. If they had seen us hiding there
+among the trees I don't know what they would have thought.
+
+"I have only given you two instances. But recently, she is always doing
+ridiculous things like that, which, although they are ridiculous, are
+disconcerting. She certainly is unwell mentally, or physically, or
+both; but not only so. I seriously do believe she's haunted. Not by
+anything supernatural, but by something, perhaps, quite ordinary. There
+may be some episode in her life which we know nothing of, and which it
+might be much better for her if we did, and that haunts her. I should
+not like to venture to hint at what may be its exact nature; because I
+have no idea; but I would not mind hazarding a guess that it has
+something to do with a man."
+
+
+Mrs Plummer's sagacity was not at fault; it had something to do with a
+man--her husband. She had hoped that constant wandering might help her
+to banish him from her mind--him and another man. The contrary proved
+to be the case. The farther she went the more present he seemed to
+be--they both seemed to be.
+
+And, lately, the thing had become worse. She had begun to count the
+hours which still remained before the prison gates should be reopened.
+So swiftly the time grew shorter. When they were reopened, what would
+happen then? Now she was haunted; what Mrs Plummer had written was
+true. Day and night she feared to see his face; she trembled lest every
+unknown footstep might be his. A strange voice made her heart stand
+still.
+
+The absurdity of the thing did not occur to her? she was so wholly
+obsessed by its horror. Again Mrs Plummer was right, she was unwell
+both mentally and physically. The burden which was weighing on her,
+body and soul, was rapidly becoming heavier than she could bear. She
+magnified it till it filled her whole horizon. Look where she would it
+was there, the monster who--it seemed to her, at any moment--might
+spring out at her from behind the prison gates. The clearness of her
+mental vision was becoming obscured, the things she saw were distorted
+out of their true proportions.
+
+As a matter of fact, the hour of Robert Champion's release was drawing
+near. The twelve months were coming to an end. The probability was that
+they had seemed much longer to him than to her. To her it seemed that
+the hour of his release would sound the knell of the end of all things.
+She awaited it as a condemned wretch might await the summons to the
+gallows. As, with the approaching hour, the tension grew tighter, the
+balance of her mind became disturbed. Temporarily, she was certainly
+not quite sane.
+
+One afternoon she crowned her display of eccentricity by rushing off
+home almost at a moment's notice. On the previous day--a Tuesday--she
+had arranged with the landlord to continue in his hotel for a further
+indefinite period. On the Wednesday, after lunch, she came to Mrs
+Plummer and announced that they were going home at once. Although Mrs
+Plummer was taken wholly by surprise, the suggestion being a complete
+reversal of all the plans they had made, Miss Arnott's manner was so
+singular, and the proposition was in itself so welcome, that the elder
+lady fell in with the notion there and then, without even a show of
+remonstrance. The truth is that she had something more than a suspicion
+that Miss Arnott would be only too glad to avail herself of any excuse
+which might offer, and return to England alone, leaving her--Mrs
+Plummer--alone with Evans. Why the young lady should wish to do such a
+thing she had no idea, but that she did wish to do it she felt
+uncomfortably convinced. The companion managing to impress the lady's
+maid with her aspect of the position, the trunks were packed in less
+than no time, so that the entire cortege was driven over to catch the
+afternoon train, leaving the smiling landlord with a thumping cheque,
+to compensate him for the rapidity with which the eccentric young
+Englishwoman thought proper to break the engagements into which she had
+solemnly entered.
+
+That was on the Wednesday. On the Saturday--by dint of losing no time
+upon the way--they arrived at Exham Park. On the Sunday Robert
+Champion's term of imprisonment was to come to an end; on that day he
+would have been twelve months in jail. What a rigid account she had
+kept of it all, like the schoolboy who keeps count of the days which
+bar him from his holidays. But with what a different feeling in her
+heart! She had seen that Sunday coming at her from afar off--nearer and
+nearer. What would happen when it came, and he was free to get at her
+again, she did not know. What she did know was that she meant to have
+an hour or two at Exham Park before the Sunday dawned, and the monster
+was set free again. She had come at headlong speed from the Lake of
+Como to have it.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+
+                             THE BEECH TREE
+
+
+When the travellers returned it was after nine o'clock. So soon as they
+set foot indoors they were informed that dinner was ready to be served;
+an announcement which, as they had been travelling all day, and had
+only had a scanty lunch on the train, Mrs Plummer was inclined to hail
+with rapture. Miss Arnott, however--as she was only too frequently wont
+to be--was of a different mind.
+
+"I don't want any dinner," she announced.
+
+"Not want any dinner!" Mrs Plummer stared. The limits of human
+forbearance must be reached some time, and the idea that that erratic
+young woman could not want dinner was beyond nature. "But you must want
+dinner--you're starving; I'm sure you are."
+
+"Indeed? I don't see how you can be sure. I assure you, on my part,
+that I am not even hungry. However, as you probably mean that yours is
+a case of starvation, far be it from me to stand in the way of your
+being properly fed. Come! let us go in to dinner at once."
+
+The imperious young woman marched her unresisting companion straight
+off into the dining-room, without even affording her an opportunity to
+remove the stains of travel. Not that Mrs Plummer was unwilling to be
+led, having arrived at that stage in which the satisfaction of the
+appetite was the primary consideration.
+
+Miss Arnott herself made but an unsubstantial meal; watching the
+conscientious manner in which the elder lady did justice to the
+excellent fare with ill-concealed and growing impatience. At last--when
+they had only reached the entrees--her feeling found vent.
+
+"Really, Mrs Plummer, you must excuse me. I'm not in the least bit
+hungry, and am in that state of mind in which even the sight of food
+upsets me--I must have some fresh air."
+
+"Fresh air! But, my dear child, surely you must recently have had
+enough fresh air."
+
+"Not of the kind I want. You stay there and continue to recruit
+exhausted nature; don't let my vagaries make any difference to you. I'm
+going out--to breathe."
+
+"After travelling for three whole days where can you be going to at
+this time of night? It's ten o'clock."
+
+"I'm going--" From the way in which she looked at her Mrs Plummer
+deemed it quite possible that her charge was going to request her to
+mind her own business. But, suddenly, Miss Arnott stopped; seemed to
+change her mind, and said with a smile wrinkling her lips, "Oh, I'm
+going out into the woods."
+
+Before the other could speak again she was gone.
+
+Left alone, Mrs Plummer put down her knife and fork, and stared at the
+door through which the lady had vanished. Had there been someone to say
+it to she might have said something to the point. The only persons
+present were the butler and his attendant minions. To them she could
+hardly address herself on such a subject. It was not even desirable
+that any action of hers should acquaint them with the fact that there
+was something which she was burning to say. She controlled her
+feelings, composed her countenance, took up her knife and fork and
+resumed her meal.
+
+And Miss Arnott went out into the woods.
+
+She was in a curious mood, or she would never have gone out on such a
+frolic. Directly she found herself out in the cool night air,
+stretching out her arms and opening her chest, she drank in great
+draughts of it; not one or two, but half a dozen. When she reached the
+shadow of the trees she paused. So far the sky had been obscured by
+clouds. The woods stretched out in front of her in seemingly
+impenetrable darkness. It was impossible to pick out a footpath in that
+blackness. But all at once the clouds passed from before the moon.
+Shafts of light began to penetrate the forest fastness, and to
+illuminate its mysteries. The footpath was revealed, not over clearly,
+yet with sufficient distinctness to make its existence obvious.
+Unhesitatingly she began to follow it. It was not easy walking. The
+moon kept coming and going. When it was at its brightest its rays were
+not sufficiently vivid to make perfectly plain the intricacies of the
+path. When it vanished she found herself in a darkness which might
+almost have been felt. Progression was practically impossible. In spite
+of her putting out her hands to feel the way she was continually coming
+into contact with trees, and shrubs, and all sorts of unseen obstacles.
+Not only so, there was the risk of her losing the path--all sense of
+direction being nonexistent.
+
+"If I don't take care I shall be lost utterly, and shall have to spend
+the night, alone with the birds and beasts, in this sweet wilderness.
+Sensible people would take advantage of the first chance which offers
+to turn back. But I sha'n't; I shall go on and on."
+
+Presently the opportunity to do so came again. The moon returned; this
+time to stay. It seemed brighter now. As her eyes became accustomed to
+its peculiar glamour she moved more surely towards the goal she had in
+view. The light, the scene, the hour, were all three fitted to her
+mood; which certainly would have defied her own analysis. It seemed to
+her, by degrees, that she was bewitched--under the influence of some
+strange spell. This was a fairy forest through which she was passing,
+at the witching hour. Invisible shapes walked by her. Immaterial forms
+peopled the air. It was as though she was one of a great company;
+moving with an aerial bodyguard through a forest of faerie.
+
+What it all meant she did not know; or why she was there; or whither,
+exactly, she was going. Until, on a sudden, the knowledge came.
+
+Unexpectedly, before she supposed she had gone so far, she came to
+the end of the path. There, right ahead, was the mossy glade, the
+fee-simple of which had been presented to her in such queer fashion the
+last time she came that way. Coming from the shadow of the forest path
+it stood out in the full radiance of the moon; every object showing out
+as clearly as at high noon. The new-made fence, with its novelty
+already fading; the turf on which she loved to lie; the unevenness on
+the slope which had seemed to have been made for the express purpose of
+providing cushions for her head and back. These things she saw, as
+distinctly as if the sun were high in the heavens; and something else
+she saw as well, which made her heart stand still.
+
+Under the giant beech, whose spreading branches cast such grateful
+shade, when the sun was hot, over the nook which she had chosen as a
+couch, stood a man--who was himself by way of being a giant. Never
+before had his height so struck her. Whether it was the clothes he
+wore, the position in which he stood, or a trick of the moonlight, she
+could not tell. She only knew that, as he appeared so instantly before
+her, he was like some creature out of Brobdingnag, seeming to fill all
+space with his presence.
+
+The man was Hugh Morice.
+
+He was so absorbed in what he was doing, and she was still some little
+distance from him, and had come so quietly; that she saw him while he
+still remained unconscious of her neighbourhood. She had ample time to
+withdraw. She had only to take a few steps back, and he would never
+know she had been near him. So the incident would be closed. Her
+instinct told her that in that way she would be safest. And for a
+moment or two she all but turned to go.
+
+Her retreat, however, was delayed by one or two considerations. One was
+that the sight of him affected her so strangely that, for some seconds,
+she was genuinely incapable of going either backward or forward. Her
+feet seemed shod with lead, her knees seemed to be giving way beneath
+her, she was trembling from head to foot. Then she was divided between
+conflicting desires, the one saying go, the other stay; and while her
+instinct warned her to do the one, her inclination pointed to the
+other. In the third place there was her woman's curiosity. While she
+hesitated this began to gain the upper hand. She wondered what it was
+he was doing which absorbed him so completely that he never ceased from
+doing it to look about him.
+
+He was in a dinner suit, and was apparently hatless. He had something
+in his hand, with which he was doing something to the tree in front of
+which he stood. What was he doing? She had no right to ask; she had no
+right to be there at all; still--she wondered. She moved a little
+farther out into the open space, to enable her to see. As she did so it
+seemed that he finished what he was doing. Standing up straight he drew
+back from the tree the better to enable him to examine his handiwork;
+and--then he turned and saw her.
+
+There was silence. Neither moved. Each continued to look at the other,
+as if at some strange, mysterious being. Then he spoke.
+
+"Are you a ghost?--I think not. I fancy you're material. But I haunt
+this place so constantly myself--defying Jim Baker's charge of
+lead--that I should not be one whit surprised if your spirit actually
+did appear to keep me company. Do you believe in telepathy?"
+
+"I don't know what it is."
+
+"Do you believe that A, by dint of taking thought, can induce B to
+think of him? or--more--can draw, B to his side? I'm not sure that I
+believe; but it certainly is queer that I should have been thinking of
+you so strenuously just then, longing for you, and should turn and find
+you here. I thought you were over the hills and far away, haunting the
+shores of the Italian lakes."
+
+"On Wednesday we came away from Como."
+
+"On Wednesday? That's still stranger. It was on Wednesday my fever came
+to a head. I rushed down here, bent, if I could not be with you, on
+being where you had been. Since my arrival I've longed--with how great
+a longing--to use all sorts of conjurations which should bring you back
+to Exham; and, it seems, I conjured wiser than I knew."
+
+"I left Como because I could no longer stay."
+
+"From Exham? or from me? Speak sweetly; see how great my longing is."
+
+"I had to return to say good-bye."
+
+"To both of us? That's good; since our goodbyes will take so long in
+saying. Come and see what I have done." She went to the tree. There,
+newly cut in the bark, plain in the moonlight, were letters and figures.
+"Your initials and mine, joined by the date on which we met--beneath this
+tree. I brought my hunting knife out with me to do it--you see how sharp
+a point and edge it has." She saw that he held a great knife in his hand.
+"As I cut the letters you can believe I thought--I so thought of you
+with my whole heart and soul that you've come back to me from Como."
+
+"Did I not say I've returned to say good-bye?"
+
+"What sort of good-bye do you imagine I will let you say, now that
+you've returned? That tree shall be to us a family chronicle. The first
+important date's inscribed on it; the others shall follow; they'll be
+so many. But the trunk's of a generous size. We'll find room on it for
+all. That's the date on which I first loved you. What's the date on
+which you first loved me?"
+
+"I have not said I ever loved you."
+
+"No; but you do."
+
+"Yes; I do. Now I know that I do. No, you must not touch me."
+
+"No need to draw yourself away; I do not mean to, yet. Some happinesses
+are all the sweeter for being a little postponed. And when did the
+knowledge first come to you? We must have the date upon the tree."
+
+"That you never shall. Such tales are not for trees to tell, even if I
+knew, which I don't. I'm afraid to think; it's all so horrible."
+
+"Love is horrible? I think not."
+
+"But I know. You don't understand--I do."
+
+"My dear, I think it is you who do not understand."
+
+"Nor must you call me your dear; for that I shall never be."
+
+"Not even when you're my wife?"
+
+"I shall never be your wife!"
+
+"Lady, these are strange things of which you speak. I would rather
+that, just now, you did not talk only in riddles."
+
+"It is the plain truth--I shall never be your wife."
+
+"How's that? Since my love has brought you back from Como, to tell me
+that you also love? Though, mind you, I do not stand in positive need
+of being told. Because, now that I see you face to face, and feel you
+there so close to me, your heart speaks to mine--I can hear it
+speaking; I can hear, sweetheart, what it says. So that I know you love
+me, without depending for the knowledge on the utterance of your lips."
+
+"Still, I shall never be your wife."
+
+"But why, sweetheart, but why?"
+
+"Because--I am a wife already."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X
+
+                        THE TALE WHICH WAS TOLD
+
+
+They were silent. To her it seemed that the silence shrieked aloud. He
+looked at her with an expression on his face which she was destined
+never to forget--as if he were hard of hearing, or fancied that his
+senses played him a trick, or that she had indulged in some ill-timed
+jest.
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+"I said that I am a wife already."
+
+His look had become one of inquiry; as if desirous of learning if she
+were really in earnest. She felt her heart beating against her ribs, or
+seeming to--a habit of which it had been too fond of late. When it
+behaved like that it was only with an uncomfortable effort that she
+could keep a hold upon her consciousness; being fearful that it might
+slip away from her, in spite of all that she might be able to do. When
+he spoke again his tone had changed; as if he were puzzled. She had a
+sudden feeling that he was speaking to her as he might have spoken to a
+child.
+
+"Do you know what you are saying? and do you mean what you say?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"But--pardon me--I don't see the of course at all. Do
+you--seriously--wish me to understand that you're--a married woman?"
+
+"Whether you understand it or not, I am."
+
+"But you are scarcely more than a child. How old are you?"
+
+"I am twenty-two."
+
+"And how long do you wish me to understand that you've been married?"
+
+"Two years."
+
+"Two years? Then--you were married before you came here?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Of course? But everyone here has always spoken to me of you as Miss
+Arnott."
+
+"That is because no one who knows me here knows that I am married."
+
+He put his arms down to his sides, and drew himself up still
+straighter, so that she had to look right up at him, and knit his
+brows, as if he found himself confronted by a problem which was
+incapable of solution.
+
+"I believe that I am the least curious of men, I say it seriously; but
+it appears to me that this is a situation in which curiosity is
+justified. You made yourself known to me as Miss Arnott; as Miss Arnott
+there have previously been certain passages between us; as Miss Arnott
+you have permitted me to tell you that I love you; you have even
+admitted that you love me. It is only when I take it for granted--as I
+am entitled to do--that the mutual confession involves your becoming my
+wife, that you inform me--that you are already a married woman. Under
+the circumstances I think I have a right to ask for information at
+least on certain points; as, for instance, so that I may know how to
+address you--what is your husband's name?"
+
+"Robert Champion."
+
+"Robert Champion? Then--you are Mrs Champion?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Am I to take it that Mr Champion is alive?"
+
+"So far as I know."
+
+"So far as you know? That does not suggest very intimate--or very
+recent knowledge. When did you hear from him last?"
+
+"I saw him twelve months ago."
+
+"You saw him twelve months ago? That was not long before you came here.
+Why did he not accompany you when you came?"
+
+"He couldn't."
+
+"He couldn't? Why?"
+
+"He was in prison."
+
+"In--" He stopped, looked at her with, in his eyes, an altogether
+different expression; then, throwing his head back, seemed to be
+staring straight at the moon, as if he were endeavouring to read
+something which was written on her surface. Presently he spoke in an
+entirely altered tone of voice. "Now I understand, or, rather, now I
+begin to understand. It dawns on me that here is a position which will
+want some understanding." As if seized with sudden restlessness he
+began to pace to and fro, keeping to the same piece of ground, of which
+he seemed to be making mental measurements; she meanwhile, watching
+him, silent, motionless, as if she were waiting for him to pronounce
+judgment. After a while he broke into speech, while he still continued
+pacing to and fro. "Now I begin to see daylight everywhere; the meaning
+of the things which puzzled me. Why you seemed to take no interest in
+anything; why you were so fond of solitude; why, in the middle of a
+conversation, one found that your thoughts had strayed. The life you
+were living in public was not the one you were living to yourself. It's
+not nice to be like that. Poor child! And I have laughed at you,
+because I thought you were a character, and--you were. How many fools
+escape being kicked just at those moments when a kicking would do them
+good. It occurs to me, Mrs Champion--"
+
+"Don't call me that!"
+
+"But--if it's your name?"
+
+"It's not my name to you; I wish you always to think of me as Miss
+Arnott."
+
+"Then--" He paused; ceased to walk; looked at her, and went and stood
+with his back against the tree. "I fancy that what you stand most in
+need of is a friend. I can be that to you, if I can be nothing else.
+Come, tell me all about it--it will ease your mind."
+
+"I've wanted to tell someone all the time; but I've told no one. I
+couldn't."
+
+"I know what you mean; and I think I know what it feels like. Tell
+me--you'll find me an excellent father confessor."
+
+"I shall have to begin at the beginning."
+
+"Do. If I am to be of any assistance, and it's possible I may be, I
+shall have to understand it all quite clearly."
+
+"My father died first, and then my mother, and when she died I was left
+with only quite a little money."
+
+"And no relations?"
+
+"No--no relations."
+
+"And no friends?"
+
+"No--no friends."
+
+"Poor child!"
+
+"You mustn't talk like that, or I sha'n't be able to go on, and I want
+to go straight on. I wasn't yet eighteen. There wasn't anything to be
+done in the country--we had lived quite out of the world--so I went to
+London. I was strange to London; but I thought I should have more
+chance there than in Scarsdale, so I went. But, when I got there, I
+soon found that I wasn't much better off than before, I'm not sure I
+wasn't worse. It was so lonely and so--so strange. My money went so
+fast, I began to be afraid, there seemed to be no means of earning
+more--I didn't know what to do. Then I saw an advertisement in a paper,
+of a shop where they wanted models in the costume department; they had
+to be tall and of good appearance. I didn't know what the advertisement
+meant; but I thought I was that, so I went, and they engaged me. I was
+to have board and lodging, and a few shillings a week. It was horrible.
+I had to keep putting on new dresses, and walk up and down in them in
+front of strange women, and sometimes men, and show them off. I had
+always been used to the open air, and to solitude; sometimes I thought
+I was going mad. Then the food was bad--at least, I thought it was
+bad--and, there were all sorts of things. But I had come so close to my
+last few shillings--and been so afraid--that I didn't dare to leave.
+There was one girl, who was also a model, whom I almost trusted; now
+that I look back I know that I never did quite. I used to walk about
+with her in the streets; I couldn't walk about alone, and there was
+nowhere else to walk, and I had to have some fresh air. She introduced
+me to a friend of hers--a man. She said he was a gentleman, but I knew
+better than that. She made out that he was very rich, and everything he
+ought to be. Directly he was introduced he began to make love. I so
+hated being a model; and I saw no prospect of doing anything else,
+and--besides, I wasn't well--I wasn't myself the whole of the time. She
+laughed when I said I didn't like him, and, therefore, couldn't be his
+wife. She declared that I was throwing away the best chance a girl in
+my position ever had; and said he would make the most perfect husband I
+could possibly want. He promised all sorts of things; he said we should
+live in the country, he even took me to see a house which he said he
+had taken. I grew to hate being a model more and more; I was miserable
+and ill, and they all made fun of me. At last, after he had asked me I
+don't know how many times, I said yes. We were married. We went to
+Margate for our honeymoon. Within four-and-twenty hours I knew what
+kind of a man he was."
+
+She stopped; putting her hands up before her face. He could see her
+trembling in the moonlight, and could only stand and watch. He dared
+not trust himself to speak.
+
+Presently she went on.
+
+"I lived with him twelve months."
+
+"Twelve months!"
+
+"When I think of it now I wonder why I didn't kill him. I had chances,
+but I daren't even run away. All the life had gone out of me, and all
+the spirit too. I didn't even try to defend myself when he struck me."
+
+"Struck you?"
+
+"Oh, he often did that. But I was a weak and helpless creature. I
+seemed to myself to be half-witted. He used to say that he believed I
+had a tile loose. I had, then. Then they locked him up."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"He put an advertisement in the paper for a person to fill a position
+of trust. When someone applied he got them to make what he termed a
+'deposit' of a few pounds. Then he stole it. Of course there was no
+position of trust to fill. That was how he made his living. I always
+wondered where he got his money from. After he was arrested I
+understood."
+
+"And he was sentenced?"
+
+"To twelve months' hard labour."
+
+"Only twelve months' hard labour? Then his term of imprisonment will
+soon be drawing to a close."
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow! You poor child!"
+
+"Now you perceive why I hurried back from Lake Como to say good-bye."
+
+"I hope I need not tell you, in words, how intensely I sympathise with
+you."
+
+"Thank you, I would rather you didn't; I know."
+
+"We will speak of such matters later. In the meantime, obviously, what
+you want is a friend; as I guessed. As a friend, let me assure you that
+your position is not by any means so hopeless as you appear to
+imagine."
+
+"Not with my husband coming out of prison to-morrow? You don't know
+him."
+
+"If you can do nothing else, you can keep him at arm's length."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"You have money, he hasn't. You can at least place yourself in a
+position in which he can't get at you."
+
+"Can't he compel me to give him money?"
+
+"Emphatically, no. He has no claim to a penny of yours, not to a
+farthing. The marriage laws are still quite capable of being improved,
+but one crying injustice they have abolished. What a woman has is her
+own, and hers only, be she married or single. If Mr Champion wants
+money he will have to earn it. He has not a scintilla of right to any
+of yours, or anything that is yours. So, at anyrate, you should have no
+difficulty in placing yourself beyond his reach. But there is something
+more. You should experience no trouble in freeing yourself from him
+altogether. There is such a place as the divorce court. Plainly, it
+would be easy to show cruelty, and probably something else as well."
+
+"I don't know. I knew nothing of what he did, and cared nothing, so
+long as he left me alone."
+
+"Quite so. This is a matter which will be better managed by other hands
+than yours. Only--there are abundant ways and means of dealing with a
+person of his kind. What I want you to do now is not to worry. One
+moment! it's not a counsel of perfection! I see clearly what this means
+to you, what it has meant, but--forgive me for saying so--the burden
+has been made much heavier by your insisting on bearing it alone."
+
+"I couldn't blurt out my shame to everyone--to anyone!"
+
+"Well, you have told me now, thank goodness! And you may rely on this,
+that man sha'n't be allowed to come near you; if necessary, I will make
+it my business to prevent him. I will think things over to-night; be
+sure that I shall find a way out. To-morrow I will come and tell you
+what I've thought about, when the conditions are more normal."
+
+"Rather than that he should again be able to claim me for his wife,
+even for an hour, I would kill him."
+
+"Certainly; I will kill him for you if it comes to that. I have lived
+in countries where they make nothing of killing vermin of his
+particular type. But there'll be no necessity for such a drastic
+remedy. Now, I want you to go home and promise not to worry, because
+your case is now in hands which are well qualified to relieve you of
+all cause for apprehension of any sort or kind. I beg you will believe
+it. Good-night."
+
+She hesitated, then put her hands up to her temples, as if her head was
+aching.
+
+"I will say good-night to you. You go, I will stay. My brain's all in a
+whirl. I want to be alone--to steady it."
+
+"I don't like to leave you, in such a place, at such an hour."
+
+"Why not? While I've been abroad I've sometimes spent half the night in
+wandering alone over the mountains. Why am I not as safe here as
+there?"
+
+"It's not a question of safety, no doubt you're safe enough. But--it's
+the idea."
+
+"Be so good as to do as I ask--leave me, please."
+
+"Since you ask me in such a tone. Promise me, at least, that you won't
+stay half the night out here; that, indeed, you won't stay long."
+
+"I promise, if my doing so affords you any satisfaction. Probably I'll
+be in my own room in half an hour, only--I must be alone for a few
+minutes first. Don't you see?"
+
+"I fancy that I do. Good-night. Remember that I'm at least your
+friend."
+
+"I'll remember."
+
+"By the way, in the morning where, and when, shall I find you?"
+
+"I shall be in the house till lunch."
+
+"Good, then before lunch I'll come to you, as early as I can.
+Good-night again."
+
+"Good-night. And"--as he was moving off--"you're not to stop about and
+watch me, playing the part of the unseen protector. I couldn't bear the
+thought of being watched. I want to be alone."
+
+He laughed.
+
+"All right! All right! Since you've promised me that you'll not stay
+long I promise you that I'll march straight home."
+
+He strode off, his arms swinging at his sides, his head hanging a
+little forward on his chest, as his habit was. She followed him with
+her eyes. When she saw that he vanished among the trees on his own
+estate, and did not once look back, she was conscious of an illogical
+little pang. She knew that he wanted her to understand that, in
+obedience to her wishes, he refused to keep any surveillance over her
+movements, even to the extent of looking back. Still she felt that he
+might have given her one backward glance, ere he vanished into the
+night.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XI
+
+                          THE MAN ON THE FENCE
+
+
+Her first feeling, when she knew herself in truth to be alone, was of
+thankfulness so intense as almost to amount to pain. He knew! As he
+himself had said, thank goodness! Her relief at the knowledge that her
+burden was shared, in however slight a degree, was greater than she
+could have imagined possible. And of all people in the world--by him!
+Now he understood, and understanding had, in one sense, drawn him
+closer to her; if in another it had thrust him farther off. Again, to
+use his own words, he was at least her friend. And, among all persons,
+he was the one whom--for every possible reason--she would rather have
+chosen as a friend. In his hands she knew she would be safe. Whatever
+he could do, he would do, and more. That ogre who, in a few hours,
+would again be issuing from the prison gates, would not have her so
+wholly at his mercy as she had feared. Now, and henceforward, there
+would be someone else with whom he would have to reckon. One in whom,
+she was convinced, he would find much more than his match.
+
+Again as he had said--thank goodness!
+
+For some minutes she remained just as he had left her, standing looking
+after him, where he had vanished among the trees. After a while the
+restraint which she had placed upon herself throughout that trying
+interview, began to slacken. The girl that was in her came to the
+front--nature had its way. All at once she threw herself face downward
+on the cushioned turf in her own particular nook, and burst into a
+flood of tears. It was to enable her to do that, perhaps, that she had
+so wished to be alone. For once in a way, it was a comfort to cry; they
+were more than half of them tears of happiness. On the grass she lay,
+in the moonlight, and sobbed out, as it were, her thanks for the
+promise of help which had so suddenly come to her.
+
+Until all at once she became aware, amidst the tumult of her sobbing,
+of a disturbing sound. She did not at first move or alter her position.
+She only tried to calm herself and listen. What was it which had struck
+upon her consciousness? Footsteps? Yes, approaching footsteps.
+
+Had he played her false, and, despite his promise, kept watch on her?
+And was he now returning, to intrude upon her privacy? How dare he! The
+fountain of her tears was all at once dried up; instead, she went hot
+all over. The steps were drawing nearer. The person who was responsible
+was climbing the fence, within, it seemed, half a dozen feet of her.
+She started up in a rage, to find that the intruder was not Hugh
+Morice.
+
+Seated on the top rail of the fence, on which he appeared to have
+perched himself, to enable him to observe her more at his ease, was
+quite a different-looking sort of person, a much more unprepossessing
+one than Hugh Morice. His coat and trousers were of shepherd's plaid;
+the open jacket revealing a light blue waistcoat, ornamented with
+bright brass buttons. For necktie he wore a narrow scarlet ribbon. His
+brown billycock hat was a little on one side of his head; his face was
+clean shaven, and between his lips he had an unlighted cigarette. In
+age he might have been anything between thirty and fifty.
+
+His appearance was so entirely unexpected, and, in truth, so almost
+incredible, that she stared at him as she might have stared at some
+frightful apparition. And, indeed, no apparition could have seemed more
+frightful to her; for the man on the fence was Robert Champion.
+
+For the space of at least a minute neither spoke. It was as if both
+parties were at a loss for words. At last the man found his tongue.
+
+"Well, Vi, this is a little surprise for both of us."
+
+So far she had been kneeling on the turf, as if the sight of him had
+paralysed her limbs and prevented her from ascending higher. Now, with
+a sudden jerky movement, she stood up straight.
+
+"You!" she exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, my dear--me. Taken you a little by surprise, haven't I? You don't
+seem to have made many preparations for my reception, though of course
+it's always possible that you've got the fatted calf waiting for me
+indoors."
+
+"I thought you were in prison."
+
+"Well, it's not a very delicate reminder, is it? on this the occasion
+of our first meeting. But, strictly between ourselves, I've been in
+prison, and that's a solid fact; and a nasty, unsociable place I found
+it."
+
+"But I thought they weren't going to let you out until to-morrow."
+
+"No? Did you? I see. That's why you were crying your heart out on the
+grass there, because you thought they were going to keep me from you
+four-and-twenty hours longer. The brutes! I should have thought you'd
+have found it damp enough without wanting to make it damper; but
+there's no accounting for tastes; yours always were your own, and I
+recognise the compliment. As it happens, when a gentleman's time's up
+on a Sunday, they let him tear himself away from them on the Saturday.
+Sunday's what they call a _dies non_; you're a lady of education, so
+you know what that means. You were right in reckoning that the twelve
+months for which they tore a husband from his wife wasn't up until
+tomorrow; but it seems that you didn't reckon for that little
+peculiarity, on account of which I said goodbye to them this morning.
+See?"
+
+"But--I don't understand!"
+
+She threw out her arms with a gesture which was eloquent of the
+confusion--and worse--with which his sudden apparition had filled her.
+
+"No? what don't you understand? It all seems to me clear enough; but,
+perhaps, you always were a trifle dull."
+
+"I don't understand how you've found me! how it is that you are here!"
+
+"Oh, that's it, is it? Now I begin to catch on. That's the simplest
+part of the lot. You--the wife of my bosom, the partner of my joys and
+sorrows--particularly of my sorrows--you never wrote me a line; you
+never took the slightest interest in my hard fate. For all you cared I
+might have died. I don't like to think that you really didn't care, but
+that's what it looked like." He grinned, as if he had said something
+humorous. "But I had a friend--a true friend--one. That friend met me
+this morning, where my wife ought to have met me, at the prison gates.
+From that friend I learned of the surprising things which had happened
+to you; how you had come into a fortune--a fortune beyond the dreams of
+avarice. It seems strange that, under the circumstances, you weren't
+outside the prison, with a coach and four, waiting to bear me away in
+triumph to your gilded bowers. Ah-h!" He emitted a sound which might
+have been meant for a sigh. "But I bore up--with the aid of the first
+bottle of champagne I'd tasted since I saw you last--the gift of my one
+true friend. So, as you hadn't come to me, I came to you. You might
+have bungled up the dates or something; there's never any telling. I
+knew you'd be glad to see me--your loving husband, dear. My late
+arrival is due to no fault of mine; it's that beastly railway. I
+couldn't make out which was the proper station for this little shanty
+of yours! and it seems I took a ticket for the wrong one. Found myself
+stranded in a God-forsaken hole; no conveyance to be got; no more
+trains until tomorrow. So I started to walk the distance. They told me
+it was about five miles. About five miles! I'd like to make 'em cover
+it as five against the clock; they'd learn! When I'd gone about ten I
+met an idiot who told me there was a short cut, and set me on it. Short
+cut! If there's a longer cut anywhere I shouldn't care to strike it.
+Directly I'd seen the back of him it came on pitch dark; and there was
+I, in a pathless wilderness, with no more idea of where I was going
+than the man in the moon. For the last two hours I've been forcing my
+way through what seemed to me to be a virgin forest. I've had a time!
+But now I've found you, by what looks very like a miracle; and all's
+well that ends well. So give us a kiss, like a good girl, and say
+you're glad to see me. Come and salute your husband."
+
+"You're not my husband!"
+
+"Not--I say! Don't go and throw away your character like that. As my
+wife, it's precious to me, if it isn't to you."
+
+"What do you suppose you're going to do now?"
+
+"Now?--Do you mean this minute? Well, I did dream of a tender meeting;
+you know the kind of thing. As a loving wife you ought to, but,
+perhaps, you'd like to put that off till a little later. Now I suppose
+we're going up together to the little home of which I've heard, and
+have come so far to see; and there--well, there we'll have the tender
+meeting."
+
+"I advise you not to set foot upon my ground!"
+
+"Your ground? Our ground, you mean. Really, how you do mix things up."
+
+"My ground, I mean. You have no more to do with it than--than the
+jailer who let you out of the prison gate, to prey upon the world
+again."
+
+She had evidently learnt her lesson from Mr Morice in the nick of time.
+
+"Don't be silly; you don't know what you're talking about. What's yours
+is mine; what's the wife's the husband's."
+
+"That's a lie, and you know it. I know it's a lie, as you'll discover.
+This side of that fence is my property. If you trespass on it I'll
+summon my gamekeepers--there are always plenty of them about--and I'll
+have you thrown off it. What you do on the other side of the fence is
+no business of mine. That belongs to someone who is well able to deal
+with men like you."
+
+"This is a cheerful hearing, upon my word! Can this virago be the
+loving wife I've come all this way to see? No, it can't be--it must be
+a delusion. Let me tell you again--don't be silly. Where the wife is
+the husband's a perfect right to be. That's the law of England and it's
+the law of God."
+
+"It's neither when the husband is such as you. Let me repeat my advice
+to you--don't trespass on my ground."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"I'm going to find a gamekeeper; to warn him that bad characters are
+about, and to instruct him how to deal with them."
+
+"Stop! don't talk nonsense to me like that! Have you forgotten what
+kind of man I am?"
+
+"Have I forgotten! As if I ever could forget!"
+
+"Then mind it! Come here! Where are you off to? Did you hear me tell
+you to come here?"
+
+"I repeat, I'm going to find a gamekeeper. I heard you tell me; but I
+pay no more attention to what you tell me than the trunk of that tree."
+
+"By----! we'll see about that!"
+
+Descending from the fence, he moved towards her. She stopped, turned
+and faced him.
+
+"What do you think you're going to do?"
+
+"I'm going to see you mind me--that's what I'm going to do."
+
+"Does that mean that you're going to assault me, as you used to?"
+
+He laughed.
+
+"Assault you! Not much! Look here. What's the good of your carrying on
+like this? Why can't you behave like a reasonable girl, and talk
+sensibly?" She looked him steadily in the face; then turned on her
+heel. "You'd better stand still! I'm your husband; you're my wife. It's
+my duty to see that you obey me, and I'm going to do my duty. So just
+you mark my words!"
+
+"Husband! Duty! You unutterable thing! Don't touch me! Take your hand
+from off my shoulder!"
+
+"Then you stand still. I'm not going to have you slip through my
+fingers, and leave me here, and have the laugh on me; so don't you make
+any mistake, my girl. You've never had the laugh on me yet, and you
+never will."
+
+"If you don't take your hand off my shoulder, I'll kill you."
+
+Again he laughed.
+
+"It strikes me that if there's going to be any killing done it's I
+who'll do it. You're getting my temper up, like you used to; and when
+you've got it fairly up there'll be trouble. You stand still! Do you
+hear me? Your eyes-- What's that?" With a sudden, vigorous movement she
+broke from his retaining grasp. "Would you! I'll teach you!"
+
+He advanced, evidently meaning to renew his grip upon her shoulders.
+Before he could do so she swung out her right arm with all the strength
+at her command, and struck him in the face. Not anticipating such
+violent measures, taken unawares, he staggered blindly backwards. Ere
+he could recover himself she had sprung round, and was rushing at the
+top of her speed towards the narrow, winding path along which she had
+come. As she gained it the moon passed behind the clouds.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII
+
+                     WHAT SHE HEARD, SAW AND FOUND
+
+
+She hurried along as rapidly as she could in the darkness which had
+followed the eclipse of the moon. Momentarily she expected to hear his
+footsteps coming after her. But, so far as she was able to tell, there
+was not a sound which suggested pursuit. Something, possibly, had
+prevented his giving immediate chase. In the darkness it was impossible
+to see where she was going, or to make out surrounding objects. What
+seemed to be the branch of a tree struck her across the face with such
+force that it brought her to an instant standing. She stood still,
+trembling from head to foot. The collision had partly stunned her. Her
+face was smarting, where it had come in contact with the unseen
+obstacle. For the moment she was demoralised, incapable of moving in
+any direction. Her breath was coming in great gasps. It would have
+needed very little to have made her burst into tears.
+
+As she was gradually regaining her equilibrium, her presence of mind, a
+sound crashed through the darkness, which started her trembling worse
+than ever. It was a gunshot. Quite close at hand. So close that the
+flash of it flamed before her eyes. In the air about her was the smell
+of the powder.
+
+Silence followed, which was the more striking, because it was
+contrasted with the preceding thunderclap. What had happened? Who had
+fired? at what? and where? The gun had been fired by someone who was on
+the left of where she was then standing, possibly within twenty or
+thirty feet. The direction of the aim, it seemed, had been at something
+behind her. What was there behind her at which anyone would be likely
+to fire, in that reckless fashion, at that hour of the night? Robert
+Champion was behind her; but the idea that anyone--
+
+The silence was broken. Someone was striding through the brushwood
+towards the place which had been aimed at. She became conscious of
+another sound, which made her heart stand still. Was not someone
+groaning, as if in pain? Someone who, also, was behind her? Suddenly
+there was the sound of voices. The person who had strode through the
+underwood was speaking to the person who was groaning. Apparently she
+was farther off than she had supposed, or they were speaking in muffled
+tones. She could only just distinguish voices. Who were the speakers,
+and what they said, she had not a notion. The colloquy was but a brief
+one. Again there was a sound of footsteps, which retreated; then,
+again, groans.
+
+What did it mean? What had happened? who had come and gone? who had
+been the speakers? of what had they been talking? The problem was a
+knotty one. Should she go back and solve it? The groans which
+continued, and, if anything, increased in vigour, were in themselves a
+sufficiently strenuous appeal. That someone was in pain was
+evident--wounded, perhaps seriously. It seemed that whoever was
+responsible for that gunshot had, with complete callousness, left his
+victim to his fate. And he might be dying! Whoever it was, she could
+not let him die without, at least, attempting succour. If she did, she
+would be a participant in a crime of which--to use an Irishism--she
+had not only been an unseen, but also an unseeing, witness. If she let
+this man die without doing something to help him live, his blood would
+be on her hands also; certainly, she would feel it was. However
+repugnant the task might be, she must return and proffer aid.
+
+She had just brought herself to the sticking point, and was about to
+retrace her steps, when, once more, she became conscious of someone
+being in movement. But, this time, not only did it come from another
+direction, but it had an entirely different quality. Before, there had
+been no attempt at concealment. Whoever had gone striding through the
+underwood, had apparently cared nothing for being either seen nor
+heard. Whoever was moving now, unless the girl's imagination played her
+a trick--was desirous of being neither seen nor heard. There was a
+stealthy quality in the movements, as if someone were stealing softly
+through the brushwood, taking cautious steps, keenly on the alert
+against hidden listeners.
+
+In what quarter was the newcomer moving? The girl could not at first
+decide; indeed, she never was quite clear, but it seemed to her that
+someone was creeping along the fence which divided Exham Park and Oak
+Dene. All the while, the wounded man continued to groan.
+
+Suddenly, she could not tell how she knew, but she knew that the
+newcomer had not only heard the groans, but, in all probability, had
+detected the quarter from whence they came; possibly had caught sight
+of the recumbent figure, prostrate on the grass. Because, just then,
+the moon came out again in undiminished splendour, and, almost
+simultaneously, the footsteps ceased. To Violet Arnott, the plain
+inference seemed to be that the returning light had brought the
+sufferer into instant prominence. Silence again, broken only by groans.
+Presently, even they ceased.
+
+Then, without the slightest warning, something occurred which was far
+worse than the gunshot, which affected her with a paralysis of horror,
+as if death itself had her by the throat.
+
+The footsteps began again, only with a strange, new swiftness, as if
+whoever was responsible for them had suddenly darted forward. In the
+same moment there was a noise which might have been made by a man
+struggling to gain his feet. Then, just for a second, an odd little
+silence. Then two voices uttering together what seemed to her to be
+formless ejaculations. While the voices had still not ceased to be
+audible, there came a dreadful sound; the sound as of a man who was in
+an agony of fear and pain. Then a thud--an eloquent thud. And, an
+instant afterwards, someone went crashing, dashing through the
+underwood, like some maddened wild beast, flying for life.
+
+The runner was passing close to where she stood. She did not dare to
+move; she could not have moved even had she dared--her limbs had
+stiffened. But she could manage to move her head, and she did. She
+turned, and saw, in the moonlight, in headlong flight, forcing aside
+the brushwood as he went, Hugh Morice.
+
+What happened during the next few moments she never knew. The
+probability is that, though she retained her footing, consciousness
+left her. When, once more, she realised just where she was, and what
+had occurred, all was still, with an awful stillness. She listened for
+a sound--any sound; those inarticulate sounds which are part and parcel
+of a wood at night. She could hear nothing--no whisper of the breeze
+among the leaves; no hum of insect life; no hint of woodland creatures
+who wake while men are sleeping. A great hush seemed to have fallen on
+the world--a dreadful hush. Her heart told her that there was horror in
+the silence.
+
+What should she do? where should she go? what was lying on the ground
+under the beech tree, on which not so long ago, Hugh Morice had cut
+their initials with his hunting-knife? She was sure there was
+something--what?
+
+She would have to go and see. The thought of doing so was hideous--but
+the idea of remaining in ignorance was not to be borne. Knowledge must
+be gained at any price; she would have to know. She waited. Perhaps
+something would happen to tell her; to render it unnecessary that she
+should go upon that gruesome errand. Perhaps--perhaps he would groan
+again? If he only would! it would be the gladdest sound she had ever
+heard.
+
+But he would not--or he did not.
+
+Yet all was still--that awful stillness.
+
+It was no use her playing the coward--putting it off. She would have to
+go--she must go. She would never know unless she did. The sooner she
+went, the sooner it would be done.
+
+So she returned along the footpath towards the beech tree. In the
+moonlight the way was plain enough. Yet she went stumbling along it as
+she had never stumbled even in the darkness--uncertain upon her feet;
+reeling from side to side; starting at shadows; stopping half-a-dozen
+times in as many yards, fearful of she knew not what.
+
+What was that? A sound? No, nothing. Only a trick of her imagination,
+which was filled with such fantastic imaginings, such shapes and sounds
+of horror.
+
+She came to the end of the path. Before her was the open space; the
+favourite nook where she had first met Hugh Morice, which she had come
+to regard almost as a sanctuary. In front was the saucer-shaped break
+in the ground which she had found offered such luxurious ease. What was
+lying in it now?
+
+Nothing? Or--was that something? Well under the shadow of the beech
+tree, where the moonlight scarcely reached? almost in the darkness, so
+that at a first glance it was difficult to see? She stood, leaning a
+little forward, and looked--long, intently. As she looked her heart
+seemed to become gradually constricted; she became conscious of actual
+pain--acute, lancinating.
+
+Something was there. A figure--of a man--in light-coloured clothes. He
+lay on the ground, so far as she could judge from where she stood, a
+little on his right side, with his hands thrown over his head as if
+asleep--fast asleep. The recumbent figure had for her an unescapable
+fascination. She stared and stared, as though its stillness had in it
+some strange quality.
+
+She called to the sleeper--in a tone which was so unlike her ordinary
+voice that--even in that awful moment--the sound of it startled her.
+
+"Robert! Robert! Wake up!"
+
+Probably not a dozen times since she had known this man had she called
+him by his Christian name. It was so singular that she should have done
+so; the mere singularity of the thing should have roused him from the
+soundest slumber. But he continued silent. He neither moved nor
+answered, nor was there any sign to show that he had heard. She called
+again.
+
+"Robert! Robert! Do you hear me, wake up! Answer me!"
+
+But he did neither--he neither woke nor answered.
+
+The persistent silence was assuming an appalling quality. She could
+endure it no longer. She suddenly moved forward under the shadow of the
+beech tree, and bent down to look. What was that upon the front of his
+jacket? She touched it with her finger.
+
+"Oh--h--h!"
+
+A sound, which was part shriek, part groan, broke from her trembling
+lips. Her finger-tips were wet. She had not realised what the dark mark
+might mean--now she understood. All at once she burst out crying, until
+she saw something shining up at her from the turf almost at her feet.
+At sight of it she ceased to cry with the same suddenness with which
+she had begun. She picked the shining thing up. It was a knife--his
+knife--Hugh Morice's--the one with which he had cut their initials in
+the trunk of the tree. Its great blade was all wet.
+
+She gave one quick glance round, slipped the blade--still all
+wet--inside her bodice; then, returning to the winding footpath, ran
+along it at the top of her speed, neither pausing nor looking back.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIII
+
+                               AFTERWARDS
+
+
+At the foot of the broad flight of steps leading up to her own hall
+door she stopped for the first time. It was late. What was the exact
+hour she had no notion. She only knew that, in that part of the world,
+it would be regarded as abnormal. The hall door was closed, that little
+fact in itself was eloquent. There were outer and inner doors. It was
+the custom to leave the outer door wide open until all the household
+had retired to rest. She would have to knock to gain admission. Her
+late return could hardly fail to attract attention. She was breathless
+with the haste she had made, heated, dishevelled. Whoever admitted her
+would be sure to notice the condition she was in.
+
+It could not be helped. Let them notice. She was certainly not going to
+fear the scrutiny of her own servants. So she told herself. She
+declined to admit that they were sufficiently human to dare to
+criticise her movements. Besides, what did it matter?
+
+She knocked with difficulty, the knocker was so heavy. Instantly the
+door was opened by old Day, the butler. Day was a person of much
+importance. He was a survival of her uncle's time, being in occupation
+of the house while the next owner was being sought for. An excellent
+servant, with a very clear idea of his own dignity and the
+responsibility of his position. That he should have opened the door to
+her with his own hands at that hour, seemed to her to convey a reproof.
+She marched straight past him, however, without even a word of thanks.
+He addressed to her an inquiry as she went, in his even, level tones,
+as if there were nothing strange in her entering in such a condition,
+immediately after her return from a prolonged absence, at the dead of
+the night. Again her ardent imagination seemed to scent an unspoken
+criticism, which she ignored.
+
+"Will anything else be required?"
+
+"Nothing. I am going to bed."
+
+In her bedroom she found Evans dozing in an easy-chair. The woman
+started up as she entered.
+
+"I beg your pardon, miss, for slipping off, but I was beginning to be
+afraid that something might be wrong." She stared as she began to
+realise the peculiarity of her young mistress's appearance. "Why, miss,
+whatever--I hope that nothing's happened."
+
+"What should have happened? Why haven't you gone to bed?"
+
+"Well, miss, I thought that you might want me as this was the first
+night of your coming home."
+
+"What nonsense! Haven't I told you that I won't have you sit up for me
+when I'm unusually late? I dislike to feel that my movements are being
+overlooked by my servants, that they are too intimately acquainted with
+my goings out and comings in. Go to bed at once."
+
+"Is there nothing I can do for you, miss? Are you--I beg your
+pardon--but are you sure there's nothing wrong? You look so strange!"
+
+"Wrong? What do you mean--wrong? Go!"
+
+Evans went, the imperturbable demeanour of the well-trained servant
+not being sufficient to conceal the fact that she went unwillingly.
+When she was gone Miss Arnott looked at the silver clock on the
+mantel-shelf. It was past two. She had been out more than four hours.
+Into those four hours had been crowded the events of a lifetime; the
+girl who had gone out was not the woman who had returned.
+
+For the first time she began to suspect herself of being physically
+weary. She moved her hand up towards her forehead. As she did so her
+glance fell on it; it was all smirched with blood. Simultaneously she
+became aware that stains of the same sort were on the light blue linen
+costume she was wearing, particularly on the front of the bodice. She
+moved to a cheval glass. Was it possible? were her eyes playing her a
+trick? was there something the matter with the light? Not a bit of it,
+the thing was clear enough, her face was all smeared with blood,
+probably where it had been touched by her fingers. Why, now that she
+could see herself plainly, she saw that she looked as if she had come
+fresh from a butcher's shambles. No wonder Evans had stared at her in
+such evident perturbation, demanding if she was sure that there was
+nothing wrong. Old Day must have been an automaton, not a man, to have
+betrayed no surprise at the spectacle she presented.
+
+She tore open her bodice, took out from it the knife--his knife, Hugh
+Morice's. It was drier, but still damp. It was covered with blood all
+over. It must have been thrust in up to the hilt--even the handle was
+mired. It had come off on to all her clothes, had penetrated even to
+her corsets. Seemingly it resembled ink in its capacity to communicate
+its presence. She stripped herself almost to the skin in the sudden
+frenzy of her desire to free herself from the contamination of his
+blood. When she had washed herself she was amazed to see what a
+sanguine complexion the water had assumed. It seemed to her that she
+was in an atmosphere of blood--his blood. What was to be done? She sat
+down on a chair and tried to think.
+
+It was not surprising that she found it hard to bring herself to a
+condition in which anything like clarity of thought was possible. But,
+during the last four hours, she had matured unconsciously, had attained
+to the possession of will power of strength of which she herself was
+unsuspicious. She had made up her mind that she would think this thing
+out, and by degrees she did, after a fashion.
+
+Three leading facts became gradually present to her mind to the
+exclusion of almost all beside. One was that Robert Champion was
+dead--dead. And so she had obtained release by the only means to which,
+as it seemed to her, Mr Whitcomb, that eminent authority on the law of
+marriage, had pointed. But at what a price! The price exceeded the
+value of the purchase inconceivably. There was the knife--his knife--to
+show it. When she shut her eyes she could still see him rushing in the
+moonlight through the brushwood, like some wild creature, mad with the
+desire to escape. Beyond all doubt the price was excessive. And it had
+still to be paid. That was the worst of it, very much the worst. The
+payment--what form would it take?
+
+As that aspect of the position began to penetrate her consciousness, it
+was all she could do to keep herself from playing the girl. After all,
+in years, she was only a girl. In simplicity, in ignorance of evil, in
+essential purity--a child. When she found herself confronted by the
+inquiry, what form would the payment take? girl-like, her courage
+began, as it were, to slip through her finger ends. Then there was that
+other side to the question, from whom would payment be demanded?
+Suddenly required to furnish an answer to this, for some moments her
+heart stood still. She looked about her, at the ruddy-hued water in the
+wash basin, at the clothing torn off because it was stained. Recalled
+her tell-tale entry, her admission by Day who, in spite of his
+unnaturally non-committal attitude, must have noticed the state that
+she was in; Evans's startled face when, attempting no concealment, she
+blurted out her confession of what she saw. Here, plainly, were all the
+essentials for a comedy or tragedy of misunderstanding.
+
+If Hugh Morice chose to be silent all the visible evidences pointed at
+her. They all seemed to cry aloud that it was she who had done this
+thing. From the ignorant spectator's point of view there could hardly
+be a stronger example of perfect circumstantial proof.
+
+For some occult reason her lips were wrinkled by a smile at the thought
+of Hugh Morice keeping silent. As if he would when danger threatened
+her, for whom he had done this thing. And yet, if he did not keep
+silent, who would have to pay? Would--? Yes, he would; certainly. At
+that thought her poor, weak, childish heart seemed to drop in her bosom
+like a lump of lead. The tears stood in her eyes. She went hot and
+cold. No--not that. Rather than that, it would be better that he should
+keep silent. Better--better anything than that. He had done this for
+her; but, he must not be allowed to do more. He had done enough for her
+already--more than enough--much more. She must make it her business to
+see that he did nothing else. Nothing.
+
+Just as she was, all unclothed, she knelt down and prayed. The
+strangest prayer, a child's prayer, the kind of prayer which,
+sometimes, coming from the very heart of the child, is uttered in all
+simplicity. Many strange petitions have been addressed to God; but few
+stranger than that. She prayed that whoever might have to suffer for
+what had been done, he might escape scot-free; not only here but also
+hereafter; in heaven as well as on earth. Although the supplication
+invoked such an odd confusion of ideas, it was offered up with such
+intense earnestness and simplicity of purpose, that it had, at anyrate,
+one unlooked for effect. It calmed her mind. She rose up from her knees
+feeling more at ease than she had done since ten o'clock. In some vague
+way, which was incomprehensible to herself, her prayer seemed already
+to have been answered. Therefore, the future had no perils in store for
+her; she was at peace with the world.
+
+She collected the garments which she had taken off, arranged them in a
+neat bundle and placed them in an almost empty drawer which she found
+at the bottom of a wardrobe. The knife she put under the bundle. Then,
+locking the drawer, she disposited the key beneath her pillows. In the
+morning her brain would be clearer. She would be able to decide what to
+do with the things which, although speechless, were yet so full of
+eloquence. The water in which she had washed she carried into the
+apartment which opened out of her bedroom, and, emptying it into the
+bath, watched it disappear down the waste water pipe. She flushed the
+bath so as to remove any traces which it might have left behind. Then,
+arraying herself in her night attire, she put out the lights and got
+into bed.
+
+She awoke with that sense of pleasant refreshment which comes after
+calm, uninterrupted slumber. She lay, for some seconds, in a state of
+blissful indolence. Then, memory beginning to play its part, she raised
+herself upon her elbow with a sudden start. She looked about the room.
+All was as she had left it. Although the curtains and the blinds were
+drawn the presence of the sun was obvious. Through one window a long
+pencil of sunshine gleamed across the carpet. Evidently a fine night
+was to be followed by a delightful day. She touched the ivory push
+piece just above her head. Instantly Evans appeared.
+
+"Get my bath ready. I'm going to get up at once."
+
+She eyed the woman curiously, looking for news upon her face. There
+were none. Her countenance was again the servant's expressionless mask.
+When the curtains and blinds were drawn the room was filled with golden
+light. She had the windows opened wide. The glory of a summer's day
+came streaming in. The events of the night seemed to have become the
+phantasmagoria of some transient dream. It was difficult to believe
+that they were real, that she had not dreamed them. Her spirits were
+higher than they had been for some time. She sang to herself while she
+was having her bath. Evans, putting out her clothes in the next room,
+heard her.
+
+"She seems to be all right now. That's the first time I've heard her
+singing, and she looks better. Slept well, I suppose. When you're young
+and healthy a good sleep works wonders. A nice sight she looked when
+she came in this morning; I never saw anything like it--never! All
+covered with blood, my gracious! A queer one she is, the queerest I've
+ever had to do with, and I've had to do with a few. Seems to me that
+the more money a woman's got the queerer she is, unless she's got a man
+to look after her. However, it's no business of mine; I don't want to
+know what games she's up to. I have found knowing too much brings
+trouble. But whatever has become of the clothes that she had on?
+They've vanished, every single thing except the stockings. What can she
+have done with them? It's queer. I suppose, as she hasn't left them
+about it's a hint that I'm not to ask questions. I don't want to; I'm
+sure the less I know the better I'm pleased. Still, I do hope there's
+nothing wrong. She's a good sort; in spite of all her queernesses, I
+never want to meet a better. That generous! and simple as a child!
+Sooner than anything should happen to her I'd--well, I'd do a good
+deal. If she'd left those clothes of hers about I'd have washed 'em and
+got 'em up myself, so that no one need have known about the state that
+they were in. I don't want to speak to her about it. With her ideas
+about not liking to be overlooked she might think that I was
+interfering; but, I wish she had."
+
+Somewhat to her surprise Miss Arnott found Mrs Plummer waiting for her
+at the breakfast-table.
+
+"Why," she exclaimed, "I thought you would have finished long ago--ever
+so long ago."
+
+"I was a little late myself; so I thought I'd wait for you. What time
+did you come in?"
+
+"Why do you ask?"
+
+"Nothing. I only wondered. Directly I had finished dinner I went to
+bed--straight from the table. I was tired; I thought you wouldn't care
+for me to sit up for you."
+
+"Of course not; what an idea! You never have sat up for me, and I
+shouldn't advise you to begin. But--you still look tired. Haven't you
+slept away your fatigue?"
+
+"I don't fancy I have quite. As you say, I'm still a little tired. Yet
+I slept well, fell asleep as soon as I got into bed directly, and never
+woke."
+
+"Didn't you dream?"
+
+"Dream? Why should I dream?"
+
+"There's no particular reason that I know of, only when people march
+straight from dinner to bed dreams do sometimes follow--at least, so
+I've been told."
+
+"They don't with me; I never dream, never. I don't suppose I've dreamt
+half-a-dozen times in my life."
+
+"You're lucky."
+
+"I've a clear conscience, my dear; a perfectly clear conscience. People
+with clear consciences don't dream. Where did you go to?"
+
+"Oh--I strolled about, enjoying the fresh air."
+
+"An odd hour to enjoy it, especially after the quantity of fresh air
+that you've been enjoying lately. What time did you say it was that you
+came in?"
+
+"I didn't say. Day will be able to tell you, if you are anxious to
+know--you appear to be. He let me in." The elder lady was silent,
+possibly not caring to lay herself open to the charge of being curious.
+Presently Miss Arnott put the inquiry to the butler on her own account.
+"Probably, Day, you will be able to supply Mrs Plummer with the
+information she desires. What time was it when I came in?"
+
+"I'm afraid I don't know. I didn't look at my watch. I've no idea."
+
+The butler kept his eyes turned away as he answered. Something in his
+tone caused her to look at him--something which told her that if the
+man had not been guilty of a positive falsehood, he had at least been a
+party to the suppression of the truth. She became instantly convinced
+that his intention was to screen her. She did not like the notion, it
+gave her an uncomfortable qualm.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV
+
+                            ON THE HIGH ROAD
+
+
+All that day nothing happened. Miss Arnott went in the morning to
+church; in the afternoon for a run on her motor, which had been
+neglected during the whole period of her absence abroad. She continued
+in a state of expectation. Before she started for church from everyone
+who approached her she looked for news; being persuaded that, if there
+were news of the kind she looked for, it would not be hidden from her
+long. But, plainly, no one had anything to tell.
+
+Mrs Plummer accompanied her to church. Miss Arnott would rather she had
+refrained. A conviction was forcing itself upon her that, at the back
+of Mrs Plummer's mind, there was something which she was doing her best
+to keep to herself, but which now and then would peep out in spite of
+her--something hostile to herself. A disagreeable feeling was growing
+on her that the lady knew much more about her movements on the previous
+night than she was willing to admit. How she knew she did not attempt
+to guess, or even whether the knowledge really amounted to anything
+more than a surmise. She had an uncomfortable impression that her
+companion, who was obviously ill at ease, was watching her with a
+furtive keenness which she intuitively resented.
+
+When they reached the church she was scarcely in a religious mood. She
+was conscious that her unexpected appearance made a small sensation.
+Those who knew her smiled at her across the pews. Only servants were in
+the Oak Dene pew; the master was absent. She wondered if anything had
+yet transpired; half expecting some allusion to the matter during the
+course of the sermon. While the vicar preached her thoughts kept
+wandering to the mossy nook beneath the beech tree. Surely someone must
+have been there by now, and seen. She would hear all about it after
+church--at anyrate, when she reached home.
+
+But no, not a word. Nothing had stirred the tranquil country air. One
+item of information she did receive on her entering the house--Hugh
+Morice had called. She probably appeared more startled than the
+occasion seemed to warrant. The fact being that she had forgotten the
+appointment he had made with her the night before. In any case she
+would not have expected him to keep it. That he should have done so
+almost took her breath away. He had merely inquired if she was in; on
+learning that she was not had gone away. He had left no message.
+
+If she had stayed at home and seen him, what would he have said to her?
+
+That was the question which she kept putting to herself throughout the
+run on her motor; fitting it not with one answer, but a dozen. There
+were so many things he might have said, so many he might have left
+unsaid.
+
+She expected to be greeted with the news when she brought the car to a
+standstill in front of her own hall door. No; still not a word. Not one
+during the whole of the evening. A new phase seemed to be developing in
+Mrs Plummer's character--she had all at once grown restless, fidgety.
+Hitherto, if she had had a tendency, it had been to attach herself too
+closely to her charge. She was disposed to be too conversational. Now,
+on a sudden, it was all the other way. Unless the girl's fancy played
+her a trick she was not only desirous of avoiding her, but when in her
+society she was taciturn almost to the verge of rudeness. Miss Arnott
+was anxious neither for her company nor her conversation; but she did
+not like her apparent unflattering inclination to avoid her altogether.
+
+That night the girl went early to bed. Hardly had she got into her room
+than she remembered the key; the key of the wardrobe drawer, which, in
+the small hours of the morning, she had put under her pillow before she
+got into bed. Until that moment she had forgotten its existence. Now,
+all at once, it came back to her with a jarring shock. She went to the
+bed and lifted the pillows--there was nothing there.
+
+"Have you heard anything about a key being found underneath this
+pillow? I put it there just before I got into bed. I forgot it when I
+got up."
+
+"No, miss, I haven't. What key was it?"
+
+"It was"--she hesitated--"it was the key of a drawer in this wardrobe.
+Perhaps it's in it now. No; there's nothing there. Whoever made my bed
+must have seen it. Who made the bed?"
+
+"Wilson, miss. If she saw a key under your pillow she ought to have
+given it me at once. I was in the room all the while; but she never
+said a word. I'll go and ask her at once."
+
+"Do. But I see all the drawers have keys. I suppose any one of them
+will fit any drawer?"
+
+"No, miss, that's just what they won't do; and very awkward it is
+sometimes. There's a different lock to every drawer, and only one key
+which fits it. I'll go and make inquiries of Wilson at once."
+
+While Evans was gone Miss Arnott considered. It would be awkward if the
+key were lost or mislaid. To gain access to that drawer the lock would
+have to be forced. Circumstances might very easily arise which would
+render it necessary that access should be gained, and by her alone. Nor
+was the idea a pleasant one that, although the drawer was closed to
+her, it might be accessible to somebody else.
+
+Evans returned to say that the maid, Wilson, denied all knowledge of a
+key.
+
+"She declares that there was no key there. She says that if there had
+been she couldn't have helped but see it. I don't see how she could
+have either. You are sure, miss, that you left it there?"
+
+"Certain."
+
+"Then perhaps it slipped on to the floor when she moved the pillow,
+without being noticed."
+
+It was not on the floor then--at least, they could discover no signs of
+it. Evans moved the bed, and went on her knees to see. Nor did it
+appear to have strayed into the bed itself.
+
+"I will see Wilson myself in the morning," said Miss Arnott, when
+Evans's researches proved resultless. "The key can't have vanished into
+nothing."
+
+But Wilson, even when interviewed by her mistress, afforded no
+information. She was a raw country girl. A bundle of nerves when she
+saw that Miss Arnott was dissatisfied. There seemed no possible reason
+why she should wish to conceal the fact that she had lighted on the
+key, if she had done so. So far as she knew the key was valueless,
+certainly it was of no interest to her. Miss Arnott had to console
+herself with the reflection that if she did not know what had become of
+the key no one else did either. She gave instructions that if it was
+found it was to be handed her at once. There, for the moment, the
+matter rested.
+
+Again on that Monday nothing transpired. It dawned upon the girl, when
+she began to think things over, that it was well within the range of
+possibility that nothing would transpire for a considerable period.
+That mossy nook was in a remote part of the estate. Practically
+speaking, except the gamekeepers, nobody went there at all. It was
+certain that whoever did would be trespassing. So far as she knew,
+thereabouts, trespassers of any sort were few and far between. As for
+the gamekeepers, there was nothing to take them there.
+
+By degrees her cogitations began to trend in an altogether unexpected
+direction. If the discovery had not been made already, and might be
+postponed for weeks, it need never be made at all. The body might quite
+easily be concealed. If there was time it might even be buried at the
+foot of the beech tree under which it had been lying, and all traces of
+the grave be hidden. It only needed a little care and sufficient
+opportunity. She remembered when a favourite dog had died, how her
+father had buried it at one side of the lawn in their Cumberland home.
+He had been careful in cutting out the sods of turf; when replacing
+them in their former positions, he had done so with such neatness and
+accuracy that, two or three days after no stranger would have supposed
+they had ever been moved.
+
+The dead man might be treated as her father had treated Fido. In which
+case his fate might never become known, unless she spoke. Indeed, for
+all she could tell, the body might be under the turf by now. If she
+chose to return to the enjoyment of her favourite lounge there might be
+nothing to deter her. She might lie, and laze, and dream, and be
+offended by nothing which could recall unpleasant memories.
+
+As the possibility that this might be so occurred to her she became
+possessed by a strange, morbid disposition to put it to the test. She
+was nearly half inclined to stroll once more along that winding path,
+and see if there was anything to prevent her enjoying another waking
+dream. This inclination began to be so strong that, fearful lest it
+should get the better of her, to escape what was becoming a hideous
+temptation, she went for another run upon her car, and, in returning,
+met Hugh Morice.
+
+They saw each other's car approaching on the long straight road, while
+they were yet some distance apart, possibly more than a mile, backed by
+the usual cloud of dust. She was descending an incline, he was below,
+far off, where the road first came in sight. For some moments she was
+not sure that the advancing car was his, then she was undecided what to
+do; whether to sweep past him, or to halt and speak. Her heart beat
+faster, her hands were tremulous, her breath came quicker. She had just
+resolved to go past him with a commonplace salutation, when the matter
+was taken out of her hands. When he was within a hundred yards of her
+he stopped his car, with the evident design of claiming her attention
+for at least a second or two. So she stopped also, when the machines
+were within a yard of one another.
+
+He was alone. He glanced at her chauffeur with his big grey eyes, as if
+the sight of him were offensive. Then he looked at her and she at him,
+and for a while they were silent. It seemed to her that he was
+devouring her with his eyes. She was vaguely conscious of a curious
+feeling of satisfaction at being devoured. For her part she could not
+take her eyes off his face--she loved to look at him.
+
+It was only after some moments had passed that it appeared to occur to
+him that there might be anything singular in such a fashion of meeting,
+especially in the presence of her mechanic. When he spoke his voice
+seemed husky, the manner of his speech was, as usual, curt.
+
+"Why weren't you at home yesterday morning as you promised?"
+
+"I had forgotten that I did promise."
+
+"You had forgotten?"
+
+"Not that it would have made any difference if I had remembered; I
+should not have stayed in. I did not suppose you would come."
+
+"I told you I should come."
+
+"Yes, you told me."
+
+"What I tell you I will do that I do do. Nothing that may happen will
+cause me to change my mind." He looked past her along the way she had
+come, then addressed the chauffeur. "There is something lying on the
+road. It may be something Miss Arnott has dropped--go and see."
+
+"I don't think it is anything of mine. I have had nothing to drop."
+
+"Go and see what it is." The man, descending, returned along the road.
+"I don't choose to have everything you and I may have to say to each
+other overheard. You knew that I should come, why did you not stay in?
+of what were you afraid?"
+
+"Afraid? I? Of nothing, There was no reason why I should be afraid."
+
+He searched her face, as if seeking for something which he was amazed
+to find himself unable to discover.
+
+"You are a strange woman; but then women were always puzzles to me. You
+may not be stranger than the rest--I don't know. Hadn't you better go
+away again to-day? Back to the Lake of Como or further?"
+
+"Why should I go away? Of what are you afraid?"
+
+"Of what am I not afraid? I am even afraid to think of what I am
+afraid--of such different stuff are we two made. I never knew what fear
+was, before; now, I hardly dare to breathe for fear."
+
+"Don't you trust me?"
+
+"Trust you? What has that to do with it?"
+
+"I see, you think it doesn't matter. I hardly know whether you intend
+to flatter me or not. Why don't you go away?"
+
+"What's the use? Where should I go where I could be hidden? There is no
+hiding-place, none. Besides, if I were to hide myself under the sea it
+might make no difference. Don't you understand?
+
+"I'm not sure; no, I don't think I do. But, tell me, I want to know! I
+must know! It was all I could do to keep myself from going to see--what
+have you done with him?"
+
+"Done with him?"
+
+"Have you--have you buried him?"
+
+"Buried him? Do you think he could be buried?"
+
+Something came on to his face which frightened her, started her all
+trembling.
+
+"I--I didn't know. Don't look at me like that. I only wondered."
+
+"You only wondered! Is it possible that you thought it could be hidden
+like that? My God! that you should be such a woman! Don't speak, here's
+your chauffeur close upon you; you don't want him to understand. You'll
+find the dust is worse further on. Good-day!"
+
+He whizzed off, leaving her enveloped in a cloud of the dust of which
+he had spoken.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XV
+
+                            COOPER'S SPINNEY
+
+
+Not till the Friday following was the dead body discovered. And then in
+somewhat singular fashion.
+
+A young gamekeeper was strolling through the forest with his dog. The
+dog, a puppy, strayed from his side. He did not notice that it had done
+so till he heard it barking. When he whistled it came running up to him
+with something in its mouth--a brown billycock hat. The creature was in
+a state of excitement. On his taking the hat from it, it ran back in
+the direction it had come, barking as it went. Puzzled by its
+behaviour, curious as to how it had found the hat, he followed to where
+the dead man lay beneath the beech tree.
+
+He thought at first that it was some stranger who, having trespassed
+and lighted on a piece of open ground, had taken advantage of the
+springy turf to enjoy a nap. It was only after he had called to him
+three times, and, in spite, also, of the dog's persistent barking, had
+received no answer, that he proceeded to examine more closely into the
+matter. Then he saw not only that the man was dead, but that his
+clothing was stiff with coagulated blood. There had been a violent
+thunderstorm the night before. The rain had evidently come drenching
+down on the silent sleeper, but it had not washed out that blood.
+
+Clarke was a country bumpkin, only just turned eighteen. When it began
+to break on his rustic intelligence that, in all probability, he was
+looking down on the victim of some hideous tragedy, he was startled out
+of his very few wits. He had not the faintest notion what he ought to
+do. He only remembered that the great house was the nearest human
+habitation. When he had regained sufficient control of his senses, he
+ran blindly off to it. A footman, seeing him come staggering up the
+steps which led to the main entrance, came out to inquire what he meant
+by such a glaring breach of etiquette.
+
+"What are you doing here? This isn't the place for you. Go round to the
+proper door. What's the matter with you? Do you hear, what's up?"
+
+"There--there's a man in Cooper's Spinney!"
+
+"Well! what of it? That's none of our business."
+
+"He's--he's dead."
+
+"Dead? Who's dead? What do you mean?"
+
+The hobbledehoy broke into a fit of blubbering.
+
+"They've--they've killed him," he blubbered.
+
+"Killed him? Who's killed him? What are you talking about? Stop that
+noise. Can't you talk sense?"
+
+Day, the butler, crossing the hall, came out to see what was the cause
+of the to-do. At any moment people might call. They would please to
+find this senseless gawk boohooing like a young bull calf. Day and the
+footman between them tried to make head or tail of the fellow's
+blundering story. While they were doing so Mrs Plummer appeared in the
+doorway.
+
+"Day, what is the matter here? What is the meaning of this
+disturbance?"
+
+"I can't quite make out, but from what this young man says it appears
+that he's seen someone lying dead in Cooper's Spinney. So far as I can
+understand the young man seems to think that he's been murdered."
+
+Mrs Plummer started back, trembling so violently that she leaned
+against the wall, as if in want of its support.
+
+"Murdered? He's not been murdered! It's a lie!"
+
+Day, after one glance at her, seemed to avoid looking in her direction.
+
+"As to that, madam, I can say nothing. The young man doesn't seem to be
+too clear-headed. I will send someone at once and have inquiries made."
+
+Shortly it was known to all the house that young Clarke's story was not
+a lie. A horse was put into a trap, the news was conveyed to the
+village, the one policeman brought upon the scene. When Miss Arnott
+returned with her motor it was easy enough for her to see that at last
+the air was stirred.
+
+"Has anything happened?" she inquired of the footman who came to
+superintend her descent from the motor.
+
+"I am afraid there has--something very unpleasant."
+
+"Unpleasant! How?"
+
+"It appears that a man has been found dead in Cooper's
+Spinney--murdered, cut to pieces, they do say.
+
+"In Cooper's Spinney? Cut to pieces?" She paused, as if to reflect.
+"Did you say cut to pieces? Surely there's some mistake."
+
+"I only know what they say, miss. Granger's up there now."
+
+"Granger?"
+
+"The policeman, miss. Now I'm told they've sent for a doctor."
+
+A second footman handed her an envelope as she entered the hall. She
+saw that "Oak Dene" was impressed in scarlet letters on the flap.
+
+"When did this come?"
+
+"One of Mr Morice's grooms brought it soon after you went out."
+
+She tore the envelope open, and there and then read the note which it
+contained. It had no preamble, it simply ran,--
+
+
+"Why have you not acted on my suggestion and gone back to Lake Como or
+farther?
+
+"At any moment it may be too late! Don't you understand?
+
+"When I think of what may be the consequences of delay I feel as if I
+were going mad. I shall go mad if you don't go. I don't believe that I
+have slept an hour since.
+
+"Do as I tell you--go!                                H. M."
+
+
+Then at the bottom two words were added,--
+
+
+"Burn this."
+
+
+As she was reading it a second time Mrs Plummer came into the hall,
+white and shaky.
+
+"Have you heard the dreadful news?"
+
+She asked the question in a kind of divided gasp, as if she were short
+of breath. Miss Arnott did not answer for a moment. She fixed her
+glance on the elder lady, as if she were looking not at, but through
+her. Then she put a question in return.
+
+"Where is Cooper's Spinney?"
+
+Had the girl hauled at her a volley of objurgations Mrs Plummer could
+not have seemed more distressed.
+
+"Cooper's Spinney!" she exclaimed. "Why do you ask me? How should I
+know?"
+
+Without stopping for anything further Miss Arnott went up to her
+bedroom. There she found Evans, waiting to relieve her of her motoring
+attire. As she performed her accustomed offices her mistress became
+aware that her hands were trembling.
+
+"What's the matter with you? Aren't you well?"
+
+The woman seemed to be shaking like a leaf, and to be only capable of
+stammering,--
+
+"I--I don't think, miss, I--I can be well. I--I think that dreadful
+news has upset me."
+
+"Dreadful news? Oh, I see. By the way, where is Cooper's Spinney?"
+
+"I haven't a notion, miss. I--I only know just about the house."
+
+Miss Arnott put another question as she was leaving the room.
+
+"Has nothing been heard yet of the key of that wardrobe drawer?"
+
+"No, miss, nothing. And, miss--I beg your pardon--but if you want to
+break it open, you can do it easily, or I will for you; and, if you'll
+excuse my taking a liberty, if those clothes are in it, I'll wash them
+for you, and no one shall ever know."
+
+Miss Arnott stared at the speaker in unmistakable surprise.
+
+"It's very good of you. But I don't think I need trouble you to step so
+far out of the course of your ordinary duties." When she was in her
+sitting-room she said to herself, "She will wash them for me? What does
+the woman mean? And what does he mean by writing to me in such a
+strain?" She referred to Mr Morice's note which she had in her hand.
+"'Do as I tell you--go.' Why should I go? and how dare he issue his
+commands to me, as if it were mine merely to obey. Plainly this was
+written before the news reached Oak Dene; when he hears it, it is
+possible that he may not stand upon the order of his going, but go at
+once. I'll answer him. He shall have his reply before he goes, unless
+his haste's too great. Then, perhaps, he will understand."
+
+On the back leaf of the note signed "H. M." she scribbled.
+
+
+"Is not the advice you offer me better suited to yourself? Why should I
+go? It seems to me that it is you who do not understand. Have you heard
+the news? Possibly understanding will come with it. You do not appear
+to recognise what kind of person I really am. Believe me, I am to be
+trusted. But am I the only factor to be reckoned with?
+
+"Had you not better swallow your own prescription?          V. A."
+
+
+She hesitated before adding the initials, since he knew that they were
+not actually hers. Then, putting her answer, still attached to his
+note, into an envelope, she gave instructions that a messenger should
+ride over with it at once. While she was hesitating whether to go down
+and learn if any fresh development had occurred, there came a tapping
+at her sitting-room door. Day entered. To him she promptly put the
+question she had addressed to others.
+
+"Oh, Day, perhaps you will be able to tell me where is Cooper's
+Spinney?"
+
+He looked at her until he saw that she was looking at him, then his
+glance fell.
+
+"Cooper's Spinney is right away to the east, where our land joins Oak
+Dene. I don't know how it gets its name. It's pretty open there. In one
+part there's a big beech tree. It was under the tree the--the body was
+found."
+
+"Thank you, Day. I think I know where you mean." Again the butler's
+glance rose and fell. Perceiving that he seemed to be at a loss for
+words she went on. "Is there anything you wish to speak to me about?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Arnott, I'm sorry to say there is. I've come to give you
+notice."
+
+"To give me notice?"
+
+"Yes, miss, with your permission. I've been in service all my life,
+good service. I've been in this house a good many years. I've saved a
+little money. If I'm ever to get any enjoyment out of it, and I've my
+own ideas, it seems to me that I'd better start doing it. I should like
+to leave to-day."
+
+"To-day?"
+
+"Yes, miss, to-day. There isn't much to do in the house just now, and
+there's plenty of people to do it. Bevan's quite capable of taking my
+place till you get someone else to fill it. Your convenience won't
+suffer."
+
+"But isn't this a very sudden resolution? What has caused you to arrive
+at it?"
+
+Day still kept his glance turned down, as if searching for an answer on
+the carpet. It was apparently only a lame one which he found.
+
+"I'm in an awkward situation, Miss Arnott. I don't want to say anything
+which can be misconstrued. So much is that my feeling that I thought of
+going away without saying a word."
+
+"That would not have been nice conduct on your part."
+
+"No, miss; that's what I felt, so I came."
+
+"Come, Day, what is it you are stammering about? Something
+extraordinary must have happened to make you wish to leave at a
+moment's notice after your long service. Don't be afraid of
+misconstruction. What is it, please?"
+
+The man's tone, without being in the least uncivil, became a trifle
+dogged.
+
+"Well, miss, the truth is, I'm not comfortable in my mind."
+
+"About what?"
+
+"I don't want to be, if I may say so, dragged into this business."
+
+"What business?"
+
+"Of the body they've found in Cooper's Spinney."
+
+"Day, what are you talking about? What possible connection can that
+have with you?"
+
+"Miss Arnott, I understand that Dr Radcliffe says that that man has
+been lying dead under that beech tree for at least four or five days.
+That takes us back to Saturday, the day that you came home. In these
+sort of things you never know what the police may take it into their
+heads to do. I do not want to run the risk of being called as a witness
+at the inquest or--anywhere else, and--asked questions about last
+Saturday."
+
+Then the man looked his mistress straight in the face, and she
+understood--or thought she did.
+
+"What you have said, Day, settles the question. Under no circumstances
+will I permit you to leave my service--or this house--until the matter
+to which you refer has been finally settled. So resolved am I upon that
+point that, if I have any further reason to suspect you of any
+intention of doing so, I shall myself communicate with the police at
+once. Understand that clearly."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVI
+
+                               JIM BAKER
+
+
+The inquest, which was held at the "Rose and Crown," was productive of
+one or two pieces of what the local papers were perhaps justified in
+describing as "Startling Evidence." It was shown that the man had been
+stabbed to death. Some broad-bladed, sharp-pointed instrument had been
+driven into his chest with such violence that the point had penetrated
+to the back. The wall of the chest had been indented by the violence of
+the blow. Death must have been practically instantaneous. And yet one
+side of him had been almost riddled by shot. He had received nearly the
+entire charge of a gun which had been fired at him--as the close
+pattern showed--within a distance of a very few feet. It was only small
+shot, and no vital organ had been touched. The discharge had been in no
+way responsible for his death. Still, the pain must have been
+exquisite. The medical witnesses were of opinion that the first attack
+had come from the gun; that, while he was still smarting from its
+effects, advantage was taken of his comparative helplessness to inflict
+the death-wound.
+
+Nothing came out before the coroner to prove motive. There were no
+signs that the man had been robbed. A common metal watch, attached to a
+gilt chain, was found on his person, a half-sovereign, six-shillings in
+silver, and ninepence in copper, a packet of cigarettes, a box of
+matches, a handkerchief, apparently brand new, and a piece of paper on
+which was written "Exham Park." As nothing suggested that an attempt
+had been made to rifle his pockets the probability was that that was
+all the property he had had on him at the moment of his death. There
+was no initial or name on any of his clothing, all of which, like his
+handkerchief, seemed brand new. His identity remained unrevealed by
+anything which he had about him.
+
+On this point, however, there was evidence of a kind. The police
+produced witnesses who asserted that, on the preceding Saturday
+afternoon, he had arrived, by a certain train, at a little roadside
+station. He had given up a single third-class ticket from London, and
+had asked to be directed to Exham Park. On being informed that Exham
+Park was some distance off, he had shown symptoms of disgust. He had
+endeavoured to hire a conveyance to take him there but had failed. What
+had happened to him afterwards, or what had been the course of his
+movements, there was no evidence to show.
+
+The coroner adjourned his court three times to permit of the discovery
+of such evidence.
+
+During the time the inquiry was in the air the whole countryside was on
+tip-toe with curiosity, and also with expectation. Tongues wagged,
+fingers pointed, the wildest tales were told. Exham Park was the centre
+of a very disagreeable sort of interest. The thing to do was to visit
+the scene of the murder. Policemen and gamekeepers had to be placed on
+special duty to keep off trespassers from Cooper's Spinney,
+particularly on Sundays. The scrap of paper with "Exham Park" written
+on it, which had been found in the dead man's pocket, was a trifling
+fact which formed a sufficient basis for a mountain of conjecture.
+
+Why had he been going to Exham Park? Who had he been desirous of seeing
+there? To furnish answers to these questions, the entire household was
+subjected by the police--with Miss Arnott's express sanction--to
+cross-examination. The same set of questions was put to every man, woman
+and child in the house, about it, and on the estate. Each individual was
+first of all informed that he or she was not compelled to answer, and
+was then examined as follows:--
+
+Did you know the deceased? Did you ever see him? Or hear from--or
+of--him? Had you any knowledge of him of any sort or kind? Have you any
+reason whatever to suppose that he might have been coming to see you?
+Have you the least idea of who it was he was coming to see? On what is
+that idea based?
+
+The house servants were questioned in the dining-room, in Miss Arnott's
+presence. She sat in the centre of one side of the great dining-table,
+completely at her ease. On her right was Mrs Plummer, obviously the
+most uncomfortable person present. She had protested vigorously against
+any such proceedings being allowed to take place.
+
+"I believe it's illegal, and if it isn't illegal, it's sheer impudence.
+How dare any common policeman presume to come and ask a lot of
+impertinent questions, and treat us as if we had a house full of
+criminals!"
+
+Miss Arnott only laughed.
+
+"As for it's being illegal, I can't see how it can be that, if it's
+done with my permission. I suppose I can let who I like into my own
+house. No one's compelled to answer. I'm sure you needn't. You needn't
+even be questioned if you'd rather not be. As for a house full of
+criminals, I'm not aware that anyone has suggested that I harbour even
+one."
+
+But Mrs Plummer was not to be appeased.
+
+"It's all very well for you to say that I needn't be questioned, but if
+I decline I shall look most conspicuous. Everybody will attribute my
+refusal to some shameful reason. I dislike the whole affair. I'm sure
+no good will come of it. But, so far as I'm concerned, I shall answer
+all their questions without the slightest hesitation."
+
+And she did, with direct negatives, looking Mr Nunn, the detective who
+had come down specially from London to take the case in charge,
+straight in the face in a fashion which suggested that she considered
+his conduct to be in the highest degree impertinent.
+
+Miss Arnott, on the other hand, who proffered herself first, treated
+the questions lightly, as if they had and could have no application to
+herself. She said no to everything, denied that she had ever known the
+dead man, that she had ever seen him, that she had ever heard from, or
+of, him, that she had any reason to suppose that he was coming to see
+her, that she had any idea of who he was coming to see, and did it all
+with an air of careless certainty, as if it must be plain to everyone
+that the notion of in any way connecting her with him was sheer
+absurdity.
+
+With the entire household the result was the same. To all the questions
+each alike said no, some readily enough, some not so readily; but
+always with sufficient emphasis to make it abundantly clear that the
+speaker hoped that it was taken for granted that no other answer was
+even remotely possible.
+
+Thus, to all appearances, that inquiry carried the matter not one
+hair's breadth further. The explanation of why the dead man had borne
+those two words--"Exham Park"--about with him was still to seek; since
+no one could be found who was willing to throw light upon the reasons
+which had brought him into that part of the world. And as the police,
+in spite of all their diligence, could produce no further evidence
+which bore, even remotely, on any part of the business, it looked as
+if, at anyrate so far as the inquest was concerned, the result would
+have to be an open verdict. They searched practically the whole
+country-side for some trace of a weapon with which the deed could have
+been done; in vain. The coroner had stated that, unless more witnesses
+were forthcoming, he would have to close the inquiry, and the next
+meeting of his court would have to be the last, and it was, therefore,
+with expectations of some such abortive result that, on the appointed
+day, the villagers crowded into the long room of the "Rose and Crown."
+
+However, the general expectation was not on that occasion destined to
+be realised. The proceedings were much more lively, and even exciting,
+than had been anticipated. Instead of the merely formal notes which the
+reporters had expected to be able to furnish to their various journals,
+they found themselves provided with ample material, not only to prove a
+strong attraction for their own papers, but also to serve as appetising
+matter to the press of the entire kingdom, with contents bills for
+special editions--"The Cooper's Spinney Murder. Extraordinary
+Developments."
+
+These "extraordinary developments" came just as the proceedings were
+drawing to a close. Merely formal evidence had been given by the
+police. The coroner was explaining to the jury that, as nothing fresh
+was before them, or, in spite of repeated adjournments, seemed likely
+to be, all that remained was for them to return their verdict. What
+that verdict ought to be unfortunately there could be no doubt. The
+dead man had been foully murdered. No other hypothesis could possibly
+meet the circumstances of the case. Who had murdered him was another
+matter. As to that, they were at present able to say nothing. The
+identity of the miscreant was an unknown quantity. They could point
+neither in this quarter nor in that. The incidents before them would
+not permit of it. It seemed probable that the crime had been committed
+under circumstances of peculiar atrocity. The murderer had first fired
+at his victim--actually nearly fifty pellets of lead had been found
+embedded in the corpse. Then, when the poor wretch had been disabled by
+the pain and shock of the injuries which had been inflicted on him, his
+assailant had taken advantage of his helplessness to stab him literally
+right through the body.
+
+The coroner had said so much, and seemed disposed to say much more, in
+accents which were intended to be impressive, and which, in fact, did
+cause certain of the more easily affected among his auditors to shiver,
+when a voice exclaimed from the back of the room,--
+
+"That's a damned lie!"
+
+The assertion, a sufficiently emphatic one in itself, was rendered
+still more so by the tone of voice in which it was uttered; the speaker
+was, evidently, not in the least desirous of keeping his opinion to
+himself. The coroner stopped. Those who were sitting down stood up,
+those who were already standing turned in the direction from which the
+voice came.
+
+The coroner inquired, with an air of authority which was meant to
+convey his righteous indignation,--
+
+"Who said that?"
+
+The speaker did not seem at all abashed. He replied, without a moment's
+hesitation, still at the top of his voice,--
+
+"I did."
+
+"Who is that man speaking? Bring him here!"
+
+"No one need bring me, and no one hadn't better try. I'm coming, I am;
+I've got two good legs of my own, and I'm coming as fast as they'll
+carry me. Now then, get out of the way there. What do you mean by
+blocking up the floor? It ain't your floor!"
+
+The speaker--as good as his word--was exhibiting in his progress toward
+the coroner's table a degree of zeal which was not a little
+inconvenient to whoever chanced to be in his way. Having gained his
+objective, leaning both hands on the edge of the table he stared at the
+coroner in a free-and-easy fashion which that official was not slow to
+resent.
+
+"Take off your cap, sir!"
+
+"All right, governor, all right. Since you've got yours off I don't
+mind taking mine--just to oblige you."
+
+"Who are you? What's your name?"
+
+"I'm a gamekeeper, that's what I am. And as for my name, everybody
+knows what my name is. It's Jim Baker, that's what my name is. Is there
+anybody in this room what don't know Jim Baker? Of course there ain't."
+
+"You're drunk, sir!"
+
+"And that I'm not. If I was drunk I shouldn't be going on like this.
+You ask 'em. They know Jim Baker when he's drunk. There isn't many men
+in this parish as could hold him; it would take three or four of some
+of them."
+
+"At anyrate, you've been drinking."
+
+"Well, and so would you have been drinking if you'd been going through
+what I have these last weeks."
+
+"How dare you come to my court in this state? and use such language?"
+
+"Language! what language? I ain't used no language. I said it's a
+damned lie, and so it is."
+
+"You'll get yourself into serious trouble, my man, if you don't take
+care. I was saying that, having shot the deceased, the murderer
+proceeded to stab him through the body. Is that the statement to which
+you object with such ill-timed vigour?"
+
+The answer was somewhat unlooked for. Stretching half-way across the
+table, Jim Baker shook his fist at the coroner with an amount of vigour
+which induced that officer to draw his chair a little further back.
+
+"Don't you call me a murderer!"
+
+"What do you mean, sir, by your extraordinary behaviour? I did not call
+you a murderer; I said nothing of the kind."
+
+"You said that the man who shot him, stabbed him. I say it's a lie;
+because he didn't!"
+
+"How do you know? Stop! Before you say another word it's my duty to
+inform you that if you have any evidence to offer, before you do so you
+must be duly sworn; and, further, in your present condition it becomes
+essential that I should warn you to be on your guard, lest you should
+say something which may show a guilty knowledge."
+
+"And what do you call a guilty knowledge? I ask you that."
+
+"As for instance--"
+
+Mr Baker cut the coroner's explanation uncivilly short.
+
+"I don't want none of your talk. I'm here to speak out, that's what I'm
+here for. I'm going to do it. When you say that the man as shot him
+knifed him, I say it's a damned lie. How do I know? Because I'm the man
+as shot him; and, beyond giving him a dose of pepper, I'm ready to take
+my Bible oath that I never laid my hand on him."
+
+Mr Baker's words were followed by silence--that sort of silence which
+the newspapers describe by the word "sensation." People pressed further
+into the room, craning their heads to get a better view of the speaker.
+The coroner searched him with his eyes, as if to make sure that the man
+was in possession of at least some of his senses.
+
+"Do you know what it is you are saying?"
+
+"Do I know what I'm saying? Of course I know. I say that I peppered the
+chap, but beyond that I never done him a mischief; and I tell you again
+that to that I'm ready to take my Bible oath."
+
+The coroner turned to his clerk.
+
+"Swear this man."
+
+Jim Baker was sworn--unwillingly enough. He handled the Testament which
+was thrust into his hand as if he would have liked to have thrown it at
+the clerk's head.
+
+"Now, James Baker, you are on your oath. I presume that you know the
+nature of an oath?"
+
+"I ought to at my time of life."
+
+There were those that tittered. It was possible that Mr Baker was
+referring to one kind of oath and the coroner to another.
+
+"And, I take it, you are acquainted with the serious consequences of
+swearing falsely?"
+
+"Who's swearing falsely! When I swear falsely it will be time for you
+to talk."
+
+"Very good: so long as you understand. Before proceeding with your
+examination I would again remind you that you are in no way bound to
+answer any question which you think would criminate yourself."
+
+"Go on, do. I never see such a one for talking. You'd talk a bull's
+hind leg off."
+
+Once more there were some who smiled. The coroner kept his temper in a
+manner which did him credit. He commenced to examine the witness.
+
+"Did you know the dead man?"
+
+"Know him? Not from Adam."
+
+"Did you have any acquaintance with him of any sort or kind?"
+
+"Never heard tell of him in my life; never set eyes on him till that
+Saturday night. When I see him under the beech tree in Cooper's Spinney
+I let fly at him."
+
+"Did you quarrel?"
+
+"Not me; there wasn't no time. I let fly directly I see him."
+
+"At a perfect stranger? Why? For what possible reason? Did you suspect
+him of poaching?"
+
+"I'd been having a glass or two."
+
+"Do you mean to say that because you were drunk you shot this
+unfortunate man?"
+
+"I made a mistake; that's how it was."
+
+"You made a mistake?"
+
+"I must have been as near drunk as might be, because, when I come upon
+this here chap sudden like, I thought he was Mr Hugh Morice."
+
+"You thought he was Mr Hugh Morice?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Remember you are not bound to answer any question if you would rather
+not. Bearing that well in mind, do you wish me to understand that you
+intended to shoot Mr Morice?"
+
+"Of course I did."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"He's sitting there; you ask him; he knows."
+
+As a matter of fact Mr Hugh Morice--who had throughout shown a lively
+interest in the proceedings--was occupying the chair on the coroner's
+right hand side. The two men exchanged glances; there was an odd look
+on Mr Morice's face, and in his eyes. Then the coroner returned to the
+witness.
+
+"If necessary, Mr Morice will be examined later on. At present I want
+information from you. Why should you have intended to shoot Mr Morice?"
+
+"Obeying orders, that's what I was doing."
+
+"Obeying orders? Whose orders?"
+
+"My old governor's. He says to me--and well Mr Hugh Morice knows it,
+seeing he was there and heard--'Jim,' he says, 'if ever you see Hugh
+Morice on our ground you put a charge of lead into him.' So I done
+it--leastways, I meant to."
+
+The coroner glanced at Mr Morice with an uplifting of his eyebrows
+which that gentleman chose to regard as an interrogation, and
+answered,--
+
+"What Baker says is correct; the late Mr Arnott did so instruct him,
+some seven or eight years ago."
+
+"Was Mr Arnott in earnest?"
+
+Hugh Morice shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"He was in a very bad temper."
+
+"I see. And because of certain words which were uttered in a moment of
+irritation seven or eight years ago, James Baker meant to shoot Mr
+Morice, but shot this stranger instead. Is that how it was?"
+
+"That's about what it comes to."
+
+"I would again remind you that you need not answer the question I am
+about to ask you unless you choose; but, if you do choose, be careful
+what you say, and remember that you are on your oath. After you had
+shot this man what did you do?"
+
+"He started squealing. As soon as I heard his voice I thought there was
+something queer about it. So I went up and had a look at him. Then I
+saw I'd shot the wrong man."
+
+"Then what did you do?"
+
+"Walked straight off."
+
+"And left that unfortunate man lying helpless on the ground?"
+
+"He wasn't helpless, nor yet he wasn't lying on the ground. He was
+hopping about like a pig in a fit."
+
+"You know it has been proved that this man was stabbed to death?"
+
+"I've heard tell on it."
+
+"Now--and remember that you are not bound to answer--did you stab him?"
+
+"I did not. I swear to God I didn't. After I pulled the trigger I done
+nothing to him at all."
+
+"Is it possible that you were so drunk as to have been unconscious of
+what you did?"
+
+"Not a bit of it. So soon as I see as I'd shot the wrong man that
+sobered me, I tell you. All I thought about was getting away. I went
+straight to my own place, two miles off."
+
+"When you last saw this man he was still alive?"
+
+"Very much alive he was."
+
+"He had not been stabbed?"
+
+"He hadn't, so far as I know."
+
+"You must have known if he had been."
+
+"I never touched him, and I asked no questions."
+
+"What was he doing when you saw him last?"
+
+"Hopping about and swearing."
+
+"And you don't know what happened to him afterwards?"
+
+"I see nothing; I'd seen more than enough already. I tell you I walked
+straight off home."
+
+"And you heard nothing?"
+
+"Nothing out of the way."
+
+"Why haven't you told this story of yours before?"
+
+"Because I didn't want to have any bother, that's why. I knew I hadn't
+killed him, that was enough for me. Small shot don't hurt no one--at
+least, not serious. Any man can have a shot at me for a ten-pound note;
+there's some that's had it for less. But when I heard you saying that
+the man as shot him stabbed him, then I had to speak--bound to. I
+wasn't going to have no charge of that kind made against me. And I have
+spoken, and you've got the truth."
+
+"What time did it happen--all this you have been telling us about?"
+
+Jim Baker answered to the best of his ability. He answered many other
+questions, also, to the best of his ability. He had a bad time of it.
+But the worst time was to come when all the questions had been asked
+and answered.
+
+The coroner announced that, in consequence of the fresh evidence which
+had been placed before the court, the inquiry would not close that day;
+but that there would be a further adjournment.
+
+As Mr Baker passed out of the room and down the stairs people drew away
+from him to let him pass, with an alacrity which was not exactly
+flattering. When he came out into the street, Granger, the policeman,
+came forward and laid his hand upon his shoulder, saying, in those
+squeaky tones which had caused him to be regarded with less respect
+than was perhaps desirable,--
+
+"James Baker, I arrest you for wilful murder. You needn't say anything,
+but what you do say will be taken down and used against you. Take my
+advice and come quiet."
+
+By way of answer Jim Baker stared at Granger and at the London
+detective at his side and at the people round about him. Then he
+inquired,--
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+"I say that I arrest you for wilful murder, and my advice to you is to
+come quiet."
+
+When Baker saw the policeman taking a pair of handcuffs out of his
+coat-tail pocket he drew a long breath.
+
+"What's that you've got there?"
+
+"You know what it is very well--it's handcuffs. Hold out your hands and
+don't let us have no trouble."
+
+Jim Baker held out his hand, his right one. As the policeman advanced,
+ready to snap them on his wrist, Baker snatched them from him and
+struck him with them a swinging blow upon the shoulder. Granger,
+yelling, dropped as if he had been shot. Although he was not tall, his
+weight was in the neighbourhood of sixteen stone, and he was not of a
+combative nature.
+
+"If anybody wants some more," announced Mr Baker, "let him come on."
+
+Apparently someone did want more. The words were hardly out of his
+mouth, before Nunn, the detective, had dodged another blow from the
+same weapon, and had closed with him in a very ugly grip.
+
+There ensued the finest rough-and-tumble which had been seen in that
+parish within living memory. Jim Baker fought for all he was worth;
+when he had a gallon or so of beer inside him his qualifications in
+that direction were considerable. But numbers on the side of authority
+prevailed. In the issue he was borne to the lock-up in a cart, not only
+handcuffed, but with his legs tied together as well. As he went he
+cursed all and sundry, to the no small amusement of the heterogeneous
+gathering which accompanied the cart.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XVII
+
+                           INJURED INNOCENCE
+
+
+Mr Baker had some uncomfortable experiences. When he was brought before
+the magistrates it was first of all pointed out--as it were,
+inferentially--that he was not only a dangerous character, but, also,
+just the sort of person who might be expected to commit a heinous
+crime, as his monstrous behaviour when resisting arrest clearly showed.
+Not content with inflicting severe injuries on the police, he had
+treated other persons, who had assisted them in their laudable attempts
+to take him into safe custody, even worse. In proof of this it was
+shown that one such person was in the cottage hospital, and two more
+under the doctor's hands; while Granger, the local constable, and Nunn,
+the detective in charge of the case, appeared in the witness-box, one
+with his arm in a sling, and the other with plastered face and bandaged
+head. The fact that the prisoner himself bore unmistakable traces of
+having lately been engaged in some lively proceedings did not enhance
+his naturally uncouth appearance. It was felt by more than one who saw
+him that he looked like the sort of person who was born to be hung.
+
+His own statement in the coroner's court having been produced in
+evidence against him, it was supplemented by the statements of
+independent witnesses in a fashion which began to make the case against
+him look very ugly indeed. Both Miss Arnott and Mr Morice were called
+to prove that his own assertion--that he had threatened to shoot the
+master of Oak Dene--was only too true. While they were in the box the
+prisoner, who was unrepresented by counsel, preserved what, for him,
+was an unusual silence. He stared at them, indeed, and particularly at
+the lady, in a way which was almost more eloquent than speech. Then
+other witnesses were produced who shed a certain amount of light on his
+proceedings on that memorable Saturday night.
+
+It was shown, for instance, that he was well within the mark in saying
+that he had had a glass or two. Jenkins, the landlord of the "Rose and
+Crown," declared that he had had so many glasses that he had to eject
+him from his premises; he was "fighting drunk." In that condition he
+had staggered home, provided himself with a gun and gone out with it. A
+driver of a mail-cart, returning from conveying the mails to be taken
+by the night express to town, had seen him on a stile leading into
+Exham Park; had hailed him, but received no answer. A lad, the son of
+the woman with whom Baker lodged, swore that he had come in between two
+and three in the morning, seeming "very queer." He kept muttering to
+himself while endeavouring to remove his boots--muttering out loud. The
+lad heard him say, "I shot him--well, I shot him. What if I did shoot
+him? what if I did?" He kept saying this to himself over and over
+again. After he had gone to bed, the lad, struck by the singularity of
+his persistent repetition, looked at his gun. It had been discharged.
+The lad swore that, to his own knowledge, the gun had been loaded when
+Baker had taken it out with him earlier in the night.
+
+The prisoner did not improve matters by his continual interruptions. He
+volunteered corroborations of the witnesses' most damaging statements;
+demanding in truculent tones to be told what was the meaning of all the
+fuss.
+
+"I shot the man--well, I've said I shot him. But that didn't do him no
+harm to speak of. I swear to God I didn't do anything else to him. I
+hadn't no more to do with killing him than an unborn babe."
+
+There were those who heard, however, who were inclined to think that he
+had had a good deal more to do with killing him than he was inclined to
+admit.
+
+Miss Arnott, also, was having some experiences of a distinctly
+unpleasant kind. It was, to begin with, a shock to hear that Jim Baker
+had been arrested on the capital charge. When she was told what he had
+said, and read it for herself in the newspapers, she began to
+understand what had been the meaning of the gunshot and of the groans
+which had ensued. She, for one, had reason to believe that what the
+tippling old scoundrel had said was literally true, that he had spoken
+all the truth. Her blood boiled when she read his appeal to Hugh
+Morice, and that gentleman's carefully formulated corroboration. The
+idea that serious consequences might ensue to Baker because of his
+candour was a frightful one.
+
+It was not pleasant to be called as a witness against him; she felt
+very keenly the dumb eloquence of the appeal in the blood-shot eyes
+which were fixed upon her the whole time she was testifying, she
+observed with something more than amazement. She had a horrible feeling
+that he was deliberately endeavouring to fit a halter round the neck of
+the drink-sodden wretch who, he had the best reason for knowing, was
+innocent of the crime of which he was charged.
+
+A brief encounter which took place between them, as they were leaving
+the court, filled her with a tumult of emotions which it was altogether
+beyond her power to analyse. He came out of the door as she was getting
+into her car. Immediately advancing to her side he addressed her
+without any sort of preamble.
+
+"I congratulate you upon the clearness with which you gave your
+evidence, and on the touch of feminine sympathy which it betrayed for
+the prisoner. I fear, however, that that touch of sympathy may do him
+more harm than you probably intended."
+
+There was something in the words themselves, and still more in the tone
+in which they were uttered, which sent the blood surging up into her
+face. She stared at him in genuine amazement.
+
+"You speak to me like that?--you? Certainly you betrayed no touch of
+sympathy. I can exonerate you from the charge of injuring him by
+exhibiting anything of that kind."
+
+"I was in rather a difficult position. Don't you think I was? Unluckily
+I was not at my ease, which apparently you were."
+
+"I never saw anyone more at his ease than you seemed to be. I wondered
+how it was possible."
+
+"Did you? Really? What a curious character yours is. And am I to take
+it that you were uneasy?"
+
+"Uneasy? I--I loathed myself."
+
+"Not actually? I can only assure you that you concealed the fact with
+admirable skill."
+
+"And--I loathed you."
+
+"Under the circumstances, that I don't wonder at at all. You would. I
+even go further. Please listen to me carefully, Miss Arnott, and read,
+as you very well can, the meaning which is between the lines. If a
+certain matter goes as, judging from present appearances, it very
+easily may go, I may have to take certain action which may cause you to
+regard me with even greater loathing than you are doing now. Do not
+mistake me on that point, I beg of you."
+
+"If I understand you correctly, and I suppose I do, you are quite right
+in supposing that I shall regard you with feelings to which no mere
+words are capable of doing justice. I had not thought you were that
+kind of man."
+
+Events marched quickly. Jim Baker was brought up before the magistrates
+three times, and then, to Miss Arnott's horror, he was committed for
+trial on the capital charge. She could hardly have appeared more
+affected if she herself had been committed. When the news was brought
+to her by Day, the butler, who still remained in her service, she
+received it with a point-blank contradiction.
+
+"It's not true. It can't be true. They can't have done anything so
+ridiculous."
+
+The old man looked at his young mistress with curious eyes, he himself
+seemed to be considerably disturbed.
+
+"It's quite true, miss. They've sent him to take his trial at the
+assizes."
+
+"I never heard of anything so monstrous. But, Day, it isn't possible
+that they can find him guilty?"
+
+"As for that, I can't tell. They wouldn't, if I was on the jury, I do
+know that."
+
+"Of course not, and they wouldn't if I was."
+
+"No, miss, I suppose not."
+
+Day moved off, Miss Arnott following him with her eyes, as if something
+in his last remark had struck her strangely.
+
+A little later, when talking over the subject with Mrs Plummer, the
+elder lady displayed a spirit which seemed to be beyond the younger
+one's comprehension. Miss Arnott was pouring forth scorn upon the
+magistrates.
+
+"I have heard a great deal of the stupidity of the Great Unpaid, but I
+had never conceived that it could go so far as this. There is not one
+jot or tittle of evidence to justify them in charging that man with
+murder."
+
+Mrs Plummer's manner as she replied was grim.
+
+"I wonder to hear you talk like that."
+
+"Why should you wonder?"
+
+"I do wonder." Mrs Plummer looked her charge straight in the face
+oddly. Miss Arnott had been for some time conscious of a continual
+oddity in the glances with which the other favoured her. Without being
+aware of it she was beginning to entertain a very real dislike for Mrs
+Plummer; she herself could scarcely have said why. "For my part I have
+no hesitation in saying that I think it a very good thing they have
+sent the man for trial; it would have been nothing short of a public
+scandal if they hadn't. On his own confession the man's an utterly
+worthless vagabond, and I hope they'll hang him.
+
+"Mrs Plummer!"
+
+"I do; and you ought to hope so."
+
+"Why ought I to hope so?"
+
+"Because then there'll be an end of the whole affair."
+
+"But if the man is innocent?"
+
+"Innocent!" The lady emitted a sound which might have been meant to
+typify scorn. "A nice innocent he is. Why you are standing up for the
+creature I can't see; you might have special reason. I say let them
+hang him, and the sooner the better, because then there'll be an end of
+the whole disgusting business, and we shall have a little peace and
+quietude."
+
+"I for one should have no peace if I thought that an innocent man had
+been hanged, merely for the sake of providing me with it. But it is
+evidently no use our discussing the matter. I can only say that I don't
+understand your point of view, and I may add that there has been a good
+deal about you lately which I have not understood."
+
+Mrs Plummer's words occasioned her more concern than she would have
+cared to admit; especially as she had a sort of vague feeling that they
+were representative of the state of public opinion, as it existed
+around her. Rightly or wrongly she was conscious of a very distinct
+suspicion that most of the people with whom she came into daily and
+hourly contact would have been quite willing to let Jim Baker hang, not
+only on general principles, but also with a confused notion--as Mrs
+Plummer had plainly put it--of putting an end to a very disagreeable
+condition of affairs.
+
+In her trouble, not knowing where else to turn for advice or help, she
+sent for Mr Stacey. After dinner she invited him to a tete-a-tete
+interview in her own sitting-room, and then and there plunged into the
+matter which so occupied her thoughts.
+
+"Do you know why I have sent for you, Mr Stacey?"
+
+"I was hoping, my dear young lady, that it was partly for the purpose
+of affording me the inexpressible pleasure of seeing you again."
+
+She had always found his urbanity a little trying, it seemed
+particularly out of place just now. Possibly she did not give
+sufficient consideration to the fact that the old gentleman had been
+brought out of town at no small personal inconvenience, and that he had
+just enjoyed a very good dinner.
+
+"Of course there was that; but I am afraid that the principal reason
+why I sent for you is because of this trouble about Jim Baker."
+
+"Jim Baker?"
+
+"The man who is charged with committing the murder in Cooper's
+Spinney."
+
+"I see, or, rather, I do not see what connection you imagine can exist
+between Mr Baker and myself."
+
+"He is innocent--as innocent as I am."
+
+"You know that of your own knowledge?"
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+"What he has to do is to inspire the judge and jury with a similar
+conviction."
+
+"But he is helpless. He is an ignorant man and has no one to defend
+him. That's what I want you to do--I want you to defend him."
+
+"Me! Miss Arnott!" Mr Stacey put up his glasses the better to enable
+him to survey this astonishing young woman. He smiled benignly. "I may
+as well confess, since we are on the subject of confessions"--they were
+not, but that was by the way--"that there are one or two remarks which
+I should like to make to you, since you have been so kind as to ask me
+to pay you this flying visit; but, before coming to them, let us first
+finish with Mr Baker. Had you done me the honour to hint at the subject
+on which you wished to consult me, I should at once have informed you
+that I am no better qualified to deal with it than you are. We--that is
+the firm with which I am associated--do no criminal business; we never
+have done, and, I think I am safe in assuring you, we never shall do.
+May I ask if you propose to defray any expenses which may be incurred
+on Mr Baker's behalf? or is he prepared to be his own chancellor of the
+exchequer?"
+
+"He has no money; he is a gamekeeper on a pound a week. I am willing to
+pay anything, I don't care what."
+
+"Then, in that case, the matter is simplicity itself. Before I go I
+will give you the name of a gentleman whose reputation in the conduct
+of criminal cases is second to none; but I warn you that you may find
+him an expensive luxury."
+
+"I don't care how much it costs."
+
+Mr Stacey paused before he spoke again; he pressed the tips of his
+fingers together; he surveyed the lady through his glasses.
+
+"Miss Arnott, will you permit me to speak to you quite frankly?"
+
+"Of course, that's what I want you to do."
+
+"Then take my very strong advice and don't have anything to do with Mr
+Baker. Don't interfere between him and the course of justice, don't
+intrude yourself in the matter at all. Keep yourself rigidly outside
+it."
+
+"Mr Stacey! Why?"
+
+"If you will allow me to make the remarks to which I just now alluded,
+possibly, by the time I have finished, you will apprehend some of my
+reasons. But before I commence you must promise that you will not be
+offended at whatever I may say. If you think that, for any cause
+whatever, you may be disposed to resent complete candour from an old
+fellow who has seen something of the world and who has your best
+interests very much at heart, please say so and I will not say a word."
+
+"I shall not be offended."
+
+"Miss Arnott, you are a very rich young lady."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"You are also a very young lady."
+
+"Well again?"
+
+"From such a young lady the world would--not unnaturally--expect a
+certain course of action."
+
+"How do you mean?"
+
+"Why don't you take up that position in the world to which you are on
+all accounts entitled?"
+
+"Still I don't quite understand."
+
+"Then I will be quite plain--why do you shut yourself up as if, to use
+a catch phrase, you were a woman with a past?"
+
+Miss Arnott started perceptibly--the question was wholly unexpected.
+Rising from her chair she began to re-arrange some flowers in a vase on
+a table which was scarcely in need of her attentions.
+
+"I was not aware that I did."
+
+"Do you mean that seriously?"
+
+"I imagined that I was entitled to live the sort of life I preferred to
+live without incurring the risk of criticism--that is what I mean."
+
+"Already you are beginning to be offended. Let us talk of the garden.
+How is it looking? Your uncle was very proud of his garden. I certainly
+never saw anything finer than his roseries. Do you still keep them up?"
+
+"Never mind the roseries, or the garden either. Why do you advise me
+not to move a finger in defence of an innocent man, merely because I
+choose to live my own life?"
+
+"You put the question in a form of your own; which is not mine. To the
+question as you put it I have no answer."
+
+"How would you put it?"
+
+"Miss Arnott, in this world no one can escape criticism;--least of all
+unattached young ladies;--particularly young ladies in your very
+unusual position. I happen to know that nothing would have pleased your
+uncle better than that you should be presented at Court. Why don't you
+go to Court? Why don't you take your proper place in Society?"
+
+"Because I don't choose."
+
+"May I humbly entreat you to furnish me with your reasons?"
+
+"Nor do I choose to give you my reasons."
+
+"I am sorry to hear it, since your manner forces me to assume that you
+have what you hold to be very sufficient reasons. Already I hear you
+spoken of as the 'Peculiar Miss Arnott.' I am bound to admit not wholly
+without cause. Although you are a very rich woman you are living as if
+you were, relatively, a very poor one. Your income remains practically
+untouched. It is accumulating in what, under the circumstances, I am
+constrained to call almost criminal fashion. All sorts of unpleasant
+stories are being connected with your name--lies, all of them, no
+doubt; but still, there they are. You ought to do something which would
+be equivalent to nailing them to the counter. Now there is this most
+unfortunate affair upon your own estate. I am bound to tell you that if
+you go out of your way to associate yourself with this man Baker, who,
+in spite of what you suggest, is certainly guilty in some degree, and
+who, in any case, is an irredeemable scoundrel; if you persist in
+pouring out money like water in his defence, although you will do him
+no manner of good, you may do yourself very grave and lasting injury."
+
+"That is your opinion?"
+
+"It is."
+
+"I thank you for expressing it so clearly. Now may I ask you for the
+name of the gentleman--the expert criminal lawyer--to whom you
+referred? and then we will change the subject."
+
+He gave her the name, and, later, in the seclusion of his own chamber,
+criticised her mentally, as Mr Whitcomb once had done.
+
+"That girl's a character of an unusual kind. I shouldn't be surprised
+if she knows more about that lamentable business in Cooper's Spinney
+than she is willing to admit, and, what's more, if she isn't extremely
+careful she may get herself into very serious trouble."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XVIII
+
+                        AT THE FOUR CROSS-ROADS
+
+
+The next morning Miss Arnott sent a groom over to Oak Dene with this
+curt note:--
+
+
+"I shall be at the Wycke Cross--at the four crossroads--this afternoon
+at half-past three, alone. I shall be glad if you will make it
+convenient to be there also. There is something which it is essential I
+should say to you.
+
+                                                      V. A."
+
+
+The groom brought back, in an envelope, Mr Hugh Morice's visiting card.
+On the back of it were four words,--
+
+"I will be there."
+
+And Mr Hugh Morice was there before the lady. Miss Arnott saw his car
+drawn up by the roadside, long before she reached it. She slackened her
+pace as she approached. When she came abreast of it she saw that its
+owner was sitting on a stile, enjoying a pipe. Taking his pipe out of
+his mouth, his cap off his head, he advanced to her in silence.
+
+"Am I late?" she asked.
+
+"No, it is I who am early."
+
+They exchanged glances--as it were, neutral glances--as if each were
+desirous, as a preliminary, of making a study of the other. She
+saw--she could not help seeing--that he was not looking well. The
+_insouciance_ with which, mentally, she had always associated him, had
+fled. The touch of the daredevil, of the man who looks out on to the
+world without fear and with something of humorous scorn, that also had
+gone. She did not know how old he was, but he struck her, all at once,
+as being older than she had supposed. The upper part of his face was
+seamed with deep lines which had not always, she fancied, been so
+apparent. There were crow's-feet in the corners of his eyes, the eyes
+themselves seemed sunken. The light in them was dimmed, or perhaps she
+only fancied it. It was certain that he stooped more than he had used
+to do. His head hung forward between his broad shoulders, as if the
+whole man were tired, body, soul and spirit. There was something in his
+looks, in his bearing, a suggestion of puzzlement, of bewilderment, of
+pain, which might come from continuous wrestling with an insistent
+problem which defied solution, which touched her to the heart, made her
+feel conscious of a feeling she had not meant to feel. And because she
+had not intended to harbour anything even remotely approaching such a
+feeling, she resented its intrusion, and fought against herself so that
+she might appear to this man to be even harder than she had proposed to
+be.
+
+On his part he saw, seated in her motor car, a woman whom he would have
+given all that he possessed to have taken in his arms and kept there.
+His acumen was greater, perhaps, than hers; he saw with a clearness
+which frightened him, her dire distress, the weight of trouble which
+bore her down. She might think that she hid it from the world, but, to
+him, it was as though the flesh had been stripped from her nerves, and
+he saw them quivering. He knew something of this girl's story; this
+woman whose childhood should have been scarcely yet behind her, and he
+knew that it had brought that upon her face which had no right to be
+there even though her years had attained to the Psalmist's span. And
+because his whole nature burned within him with a desire that she might
+be to him as never woman had been before, he was unmanned. He was
+possessed by so many emotions, all warring with each other, that, for
+the moment, he was like a helmless ship, borne this way and that, he
+knew not why or whither.
+
+Then she was so hard, looked at him out of eyes which were so cold,
+spoke to him as if it were only because she was compelled that she
+spoke to him at all. How could he dare to hint--though only in a
+whisper--at sympathy, or comfort? He knew that she would resent it as
+bitterly as though he had lashed her with a whip. And, deeming herself
+the victim of an outrage, the probabilities were that she would snatch
+the supposititious weapon out of his hand and strike him with all her
+force with the butt of it.
+
+So that, in the end, her trouble would be worse at the end than it had
+been at the beginning. He felt that this was a woman who would dree her
+own weird, and that from him, of all men in the world, she would brook
+only such interference, either by deed word, as she herself might
+choose to demand.
+
+When they had done studying one another she put her hand up to her
+face, as if to brush away cobwebs which might have been spun before her
+eyes, and she asked,--
+
+"Shall we talk here?"
+
+His tone was as stiff and formal as hers had been.
+
+"As you please. It depends upon the length to which our conversation is
+likely to extend. As I think it possible that what you have to say may
+not be capable of compression within the limits of a dozen words, I
+would, suggest that you should draw your car a little to one side here,
+where it would not be possible for the most imaginative policeman to
+regard it as an obstruction to the traffic which seldom or never comes
+this way; and that you should then descend from it, and say what you
+have to say under the shade of these trees, and in the neighbourhood of
+this stile."
+
+She acted on his suggestion, and took off the long dust cloak which she
+was wearing, and tossed it on the seat of her car. Going to the stile
+she leaned one hand on the cross bar. He held out his pipe towards her.
+
+"May I smoke?"
+
+"Certainly, why not? I think it possible that you may require its
+soothing influence before we have gone very far."
+
+There was something in her voice which seemed as if it had been meant
+to sting him; it only made him smile.
+
+"I also think that possible."
+
+She watched him as, having refilled and relighted his pipe, he puffed
+at it, as if he found in the flavour of the tobacco that consolation at
+which she had hinted. Perceiving that he continued to smoke in silence
+she spoke again, as if she resented being constrained to speak.
+
+"I presume that you have some idea of what it is I wish to say to you?"
+
+He shook his head.
+
+"I haven't."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"Absolutely. If you will forgive my saying so, and I fear that you are
+in an unforgiving mood, I have ceased attempting to forecast what,
+under any stated set of circumstances, you may either say or do. You
+are to me what mathematicians call an unknown quantity; you may stand
+for something or for nothing. One never knows."
+
+"I have not the honour to understand you, Mr Morice."
+
+"Don't imagine that I am even hinting at a contradiction; but I hope,
+for both our sakes, that you understand me better than I do you."
+
+"I think that's very possible."
+
+"I think so also; alas! that it should be so."
+
+"You may well say, alas!"
+
+"You are right; I may."
+
+She was silent, her lips twitching, as if with impatience or scorn.
+
+"My acquaintance with the world is but a slight one, Mr Morice; and,
+unfortunately, in one respect it has been of an almost uniform kind. I
+have learned to associate with the idea of a man something not
+agreeable. I hoped, at one time, that you would prove to be a
+variation; but you haven't. That is why, in admitting that I did
+understand you a little, I think that you were justified in saying,
+alas!"
+
+"That, however, is not why I said it, as I should have imagined you
+would have surmised; although I admire the ingenuity with which you
+present your point of view. But, may I ask if you have ordered me to
+present myself at Wyche Cross with the intention of favouring me with
+neatly turned remarks on the subject of men in general and of myself in
+particular?"
+
+"You know I haven't."
+
+"I am waiting to know it."
+
+"I had not thought that anyone fashioned in God's image could play so
+consummately the hypocrite."
+
+"Of all the astounding observations! Is it possible that you can have
+overlooked your own record?"
+
+As he spoke the blood dyed her face; she swerved so suddenly that one
+felt that if it had not been for the support of the stile she might
+have fallen. On the instant he was penitent.
+
+"I beg your pardon; but you use me in such a fashion; you say such
+things, that you force me to use my tongue."
+
+"Thank you, you need not apologise. The taunt was deserved. I have
+played the hypocrite; I know it--none know it better. But let me assure
+you that, latterly, I have continued to play the hypocrite for your
+sake."
+
+"For my sake?"
+
+"For your sake and for yours only, and you know it."
+
+"I know it? This transcends everything! The courage of such a
+suggestion, even coming from you, startles me almost into
+speechlessness. May I ask you to explain?"
+
+"I will explain, if an explanation is necessary, which we both know it
+is not!"
+
+He waved his pipe with an odd little gesture in the air.
+
+"Good heavens!" he exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIX
+
+                       THE BUTTONS OFF THE FOILS
+
+
+Outwardly she was the calmer of the two. She stood upright and
+motionless; he was restless and fidgety, as if uneasy both in mind and
+body. She kept her eyes fixed steadily upon his face; he showed a
+disposition to elude her searching glance. When she spoke her tone was
+cool and even.
+
+"You have accused me of playing the hypocrite. It is true, I have. I
+have allowed the world to regard me as a spinster, when I was a married
+woman; as free when I was bound. I have told you that I should have
+ceased before this to play the hypocrite, if it had not been for you.
+You have--pretended--to doubt it. Well, you are that kind of man. And
+it is because you are that kind of man that I am constrained to ask if
+you wish me now to cease to play the hypocrite and save Jim Baker's
+life?"
+
+"Is not that a question for your consideration rather than for mine?"
+
+"You propose to place the responsibility upon my shoulders!"
+
+"Would you rather it were on mine?"
+
+"That is where it properly belongs."
+
+"In dealing with you I am at a serious disadvantage, since you are a
+woman and I am a man. The accident of our being of different sexes
+prevents my expressing myself with adequate precision."
+
+"You appear to be anxious to take refuge even when there is nothing
+behind which you can hide. The difference in our sexes has never
+prevented you from saying to me exactly what you pleased, how you
+pleased--you know it. Nor do I intend to allow your manhood to shelter
+you. Mr Morice, the time for fencing's past. When life and death are
+hanging in the balance, words are weightless. I ask you again, do you
+intend to save Jim Baker's life?"
+
+"I have yet to learn that it is in imminent peril."
+
+"Then acquire that knowledge now from me. I am informed that if someone
+is not discovered, on whom the onus of guilt can be indubitably fixed,
+the probabilities are that Jim Baker will be hanged for murder."
+
+"And you suggest that I should discover that--unhappy person?"
+
+"I ask you if you do not think the discovery ought to be made, to save
+that wretched creature?"
+
+"What I am anxious to get at, before I commit myself to an answer is
+this--presuming that I think the discovery should be made, do you
+suggest that it should be made by you or by me?"
+
+"Mr Morice, I will make my meaning plainer, if the thing be possible.
+When--that night--in the wood it happened, I thought that it was done
+for me. I still think that might have been the motive; partly, I
+confess, because I cannot conceive of any other, though the
+misapprehension was as complete as it was curious. I did not require
+that kind of service--God forbid! And, therefore, thinking this--that I
+was, though remotely, the actual cause--it appears to me that I was,
+and am, unable to speak, lest it would seem that I was betraying one
+whose intention was to render me a service."
+
+"For all I understand of what you're saying you might be talking in an
+unknown tongue. You speak of the futility of fencing, when you do
+nothing else but fence! To the point, if you please. What service do
+you suppose was intended to be rendered you that night in Cooper's
+Spinney?"
+
+There was a perceptible pause before she answered, as if she were
+endeavouring to summon all her courage to her aid.
+
+"Mr Morice, when you killed my husband, did you not do it for me?"
+
+His countenance, as she put this question, would have afforded an
+excellent subject for a study in expression. His jaw dropped open, his
+pipe falling unnoticed to the ground; his eyes seemed to increase in
+magnitude; the muscles of his face became suddenly rigid--indeed the
+rigidity of his whole bearing suggested a paralytic seizure. For some
+seconds he seemed to have even ceased to breathe. Then he gave a long
+gasping breath, and with in his attitude still some of that unnatural
+rigidity, he gave her question for question.
+
+"Why do you ask me such a monstrous thing? You! you!"
+
+Something in his manner and appearance seemed to disturb her more than
+anything which had gone before. She drew farther away from him, and
+closer to the stile.
+
+"You forced me to ask you."
+
+"I forced you to ask me--that!"
+
+"Why do you look at me so? Do you wish to frighten me?"
+
+"Do you think I didn't see? Have you forgotten?"
+
+"See? Forgotten? What do you mean?"
+
+"Oh, woman! that you should be so young and yet so old; so ignorant and
+yet so full of knowledge; that you should seem a shrine of all the
+virtues, and be a thing all evil!"
+
+"Mr Morice, why do you look at me like that! you make me afraid!"
+
+"Would I could make you afraid--of being the thing you are!"
+
+"It's not fair of you to speak to me like that I--it's not fair! I'm
+not so wicked! When I married--"
+
+"When you married! No more of that old wife's tale. Stick to the point,
+please--to the point! You whited sepulchre! is it possible that, having
+shown one face to the world, you now propose to show another one to me,
+and that you think I'll let you? At anyrate, I'll have you know that I
+do know you for what you are! Till now I have believed that that dead
+man, your husband, Mrs Champion, was as you painted him--an unspeakable
+hound; but now, for the first time, I doubt, since you dared to ask me
+that monstrous thing, knowing that I saw you kill him!"
+
+She looked at him as if she were searching his face for something she
+could not find on it.
+
+"Is it possible that you wish me to understand that you are speaking
+seriously?"
+
+"What an actress you are to your finger-tips! Do you think I don't know
+you understand?"
+
+"Then you know more than I do, for I myself am not so sure. My wish is
+to understand, and--I am beginning to be afraid I do."
+
+He waved his hand with an impatient gesture.
+
+"Come, no more of that! Let me beg you to believe that I am not quite
+the fool that you suppose. You asked me just now if I intend to save
+Jim Baker's life? Well, that's where I'm puzzled. At present it's not
+clear to me that it's in any serious danger. I think that the very
+frankness of his story may prove to be his salvation; I doubt if
+they'll be able to establish anything beyond it. But should the
+contrary happen, and he finds himself confronted by the gallows, then
+the problem will have to be fairly faced. I shall have to decide what I
+am prepared to do. Of course my action would be to some extent guided
+by yours, that is why I'm so anxious to learn what, under those
+circumstances, you would do."
+
+"Shall I tell you?"
+
+"If you would be so very kind."
+
+"I should send for Granger and save Jim Baker's life."
+
+"By giving yourself up?"
+
+She stood straighter.
+
+"No, Mr Morice, by giving you up."
+
+"But again I don't understand."
+
+"You have had ample warning and ample opportunity. You might have
+hidden yourself on the other side of the world if you chose. If you did
+not choose the fault was yours."
+
+"But why should I hide?"
+
+"If you forced me, I should tell Granger that it was you who killed
+Robert Champion, and that I had proofs of it, and so Jim Baker would be
+saved."
+
+Again he threw out his arms with the gesture which suggested not only
+impatience, but also lack of comprehension.
+
+"Then am I to take it that you propose to add another item to your list
+of crimes?"
+
+"It is not a crime to save the innocent by punishing the guilty."
+
+"The guilty, yes; but in that case where would you be?"
+
+"I, however unwillingly, should be witness against you."
+
+"You would, would you? A pleasant vista your words open to one's view."
+
+"You could relieve me of the obligation--easily."
+
+"I don't see how--but that is by the way. Do you know it begins to
+occur to me that the singularity of your attitude may be induced by
+what is certainly the remote possibility that you are ignorant of how
+exactly the matter stands. Is it possible that you are not aware that I
+saw you--actually saw you--kill that man."
+
+"What story are you attempting to use as a cover? Are you a liar as
+well as that thing?"
+
+"Don't fence! Are you denying that I saw you kill him, and that when
+you ran away I tried to catch you?"
+
+"Of course I deny it! That you should dare to ask me such a question!"
+
+"This is a wonderful woman!"
+
+"You appear to be something much worse than a wonderful man--something
+altogether beyond any conception I had formed of you. Your
+suppositional contingency may be applied to you; it is just possible
+that you don't know how the matter stands, and that that explains your
+attitude. It is true that I did not see you kill that man."
+
+"That certainly is true."
+
+"But I heard you kill him."
+
+"You heard me?"
+
+"I heard you--I was only a little way off. First I heard the
+shot--Baker's shot. Then I heard him go. Then I heard you come."
+
+"You heard me come?"
+
+"I heard you strike him; I heard him fall. Then I saw you running from
+the thing that you had done."
+
+"You saw me running?"
+
+"I saw you running. The moon was out; I saw you clearly running among
+the bushes and the trees. I did not know who it was had come until I
+saw you, then I knew. After you had gone I was afraid to go or stay.
+Then I went to see what you had done. I saw your knife lying on the
+ground. I picked it up and took it home with me."
+
+"I can easily believe you took it home with you."
+
+"I have it now--to be produced, if need be in evidence."
+
+"Of what?"
+
+"Of your guilt! of what else?"
+
+"She asks me such a question! Now let me tell you my story. If it lacks
+something of the air of verisimilitude which gives yours such a finish,
+let me remind you that there are those who lie like truth. After we had
+parted I discovered that I had left my knife behind--the one with which
+I had cut our initials on the tree. It was a knife I prized--never mind
+why. When I had allowed sufficient time to enable you to have reached
+home I returned to look for it. To my surprise, as I approached our
+trysting-place I heard voices--yours and a man's. You were neither of
+you speaking in a whisper. At night in the open air sound travels far.
+When I came a little nearer I saw you and a man. So I withdrew till I
+was out of sight again, and could only hear the faint sound of distant
+voices. Presently a gun was fired. I rushed forward to see by whom, and
+at what. When I came near enough there was a man staggering about
+underneath the tree. I saw you come out from among the bushes and look
+at him. You picked up a knife from the ground--my knife. I saw you
+drive it into his chest. As he fell--for ever--you ran off into the
+forest and I ran after you."
+
+"You ran after me! after me?"
+
+"After you; but you ran so quickly, or you knew your way so well, or I
+blundered, or something, because, after you had once disappeared in the
+wood, I never caught sight of you."
+
+"And have you invented this story--which you tell extremely well--to
+save your neck at the expense of mine?"
+
+"What an odd inquiry! Referring to your own tale, may I ask what motive
+you would ascribe to me, if you were asked what you suppose induced me,
+a peaceful, law-abiding citizen, to kill at sight--under circumstances
+of peculiar cowardice--an inoffensive stranger?"
+
+"I imagined that you knew he was my husband, and that you killed him to
+relieve me. You see I credited you with something like chivalry."
+
+"Did you indeed. And you would prostitute the English language by
+calling conduct of that sort chivalry! However, it is plainly no use
+our pushing the discussion further. We appear to understand each other
+now if we never did before. Each proposes to save Jim Baker's life--at
+a pinch--by sacrificing the other. Good! I must hold myself prepared. I
+had dreamt of discovering means of saving you from the consequences of
+your crime, but I had scarcely intended to go the lengths which you
+suggest--to offer myself instead of you. But then I did not credit you
+with the qualifications which you evidently possess. In the future I
+shall have to realise that, even if I save your life, I cannot save
+your soul, because, plainly, you intend to perjure that lightheartedly,
+and to stain it with the blood of two men instead of only one. Let me
+give you one warning. I see the strength of the case which your
+ingenious--and tortuous--brain may fabricate against me. Still, I think
+that it may fail; and that you may yourself fall into the pit which you
+have digged for me, for this reason. They know me, hereabouts and
+elsewhere; my record's open to all the world. They don't know you, as
+yet; when they do they'll open their eyes and yours. Already some
+unpleasant tales are travelling round the country. I myself have been
+forced to listen to one or two, and keep still. When my story is told,
+and yours, I am afraid that your story will prove to be your own
+destruction; it will hang you, unless there comes a reprieve in time. I
+saw you kill your husband. You know I saw you; you know that I can
+prove I saw you. Therefore, take the advice I have already tendered, go
+back to Lake Como and further. Lest, peradventure, by staying you lose
+your life to save Jim Baker's. Henceforward, Mrs Champion, the buttons
+are off our foils; we fight with serious weapons--I against you and you
+against me. At least we have arrived at that understanding; to have a
+clear understanding of any sort is always something, and so, good-day."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER XX
+
+                         THE SOLICITOR'S CLERK
+
+
+Hugh Morice was the first to leave the four crossroads; Miss Arnott
+stood some time after he had gone, thinking. Life had had for her some
+queer phases--none queerer than that which confronted her, as she stood
+thinking by the stile.
+
+That Hugh Morice should have done the thing she knew he had done, was
+bad enough. That he should have denied it to her face in such explicit
+terms and coupled with his denial such a monstrous accusation, was
+inconceivable. He had not gone very far before she told herself that,
+after all, she had misunderstood him, she must have done. For some
+minutes she was half disposed to jump into her car, follow him and
+insist on a clearer explanation. He could not have meant what he had
+appeared to do, not seriously and in earnest.
+
+But she refrained from putting her idea into execution as she recalled
+the almost savage fashion in which he had hurled opprobrium at her. He
+had meant it; he must have meant it, or he would not have spoken to her
+in such a strain. At the thought she shivered.
+
+Because, if this were the case, if she really had to regard his words
+as seriously intended, then she would have to rearrange her whole
+outlook on to life, particularly that portion of it which was pressing
+so hardly on her now. In her blackest moments she had not credited Hugh
+Morice with being a scoundrel. He had been guilty of a crime, but she
+could have forgiven him for that. By what he had done he had separated
+himself from her for ever and for ever. Still, she could have looked at
+him across the dividing chasm with something tenderer than pity.
+
+This new attitude he had taken up altered the position altogether. If
+it meant anything it meant that he had killed Robert Champion for some
+recondite reason of his own--one with which she had no sort of
+connection. Obviously, if he had done it for her sake, he would not be
+so strenuous in denial; still less would he charge her with his crime.
+
+Thus the whole business assumed a different complexion. The inference
+seemed to be that Hugh Morice and Robert Champion had not been
+strangers to each other. There had been that between them which induced
+the one to make away with the other when opportunity offered. The whole
+thing had been the action of a coward. In imagination the girl could
+see it all. Hugh Morice coming suddenly on the man he least
+expected--or desired--to meet; the great rush of his astonishment; the
+instant consciousness that his enemy was helpless; the sight of the
+knife; the irresistible, wild temptation; the yielding to it; the
+immediate after-pangs of conscience-stricken terror; the frantic flight
+through the moon-lit forest from the place of the shedding of blood.
+
+And this was the man whom, almost without herself being aware of it,
+she had been making a hero of. This sordid wretch, who, not content
+with having slain a helpless man for some, probably wholly unworthy,
+purpose of his own, in his hideous anxiety to save his own miserable
+skin was willing, nay, eager, to sacrifice her. Possibly his desire to
+do so was all the greater because he was haunted by the voice of
+conscience crying out to him that this girl would not only be a
+continual danger, but that he would never be able to come into her
+presence without being racked by the knowledge that she knew him--no
+matter how gallantly he bore himself--to be the thing he really was.
+
+So it was plain to her that here was a new danger sprung up all at once
+out of the ground, threatening more serious ills than any she had
+known. If Jim Baker was found guilty of this man's crime, and she moved
+a finger to save him from his unmerited fate, then it might be that she
+would find herself in imminent peril of the gallows. For it needed but
+momentary consideration to enable her to perceive that what he had
+suggested was true enough, that if they began to accuse each other it
+would be easier, if he were set on playing the perjurer, to prove her
+guilt than his. And so quite possibly it might come about that, in
+order to save Jim Baker, it would be necessary she should hang. And
+life was yet young in her veins, and, though she had in it such sorry
+usage, still the world was very fair, and, consciously, in all her life
+she had never done an evil thing.
+
+And then it was not strange that, there in the sunshine by the
+roadside, at the bare thought that it was even remotely possible that
+such a fate might be in store for her, she sat down on the stile,
+clinging to the rail, trembling from head to foot.
+
+She would have sat there longer had she not been roused by a familiar,
+unescapable sound--the panting of a motor. Along the road was
+approaching a motor bicyclist. At sight of her, and of the waiting car,
+he stopped, raising his cap.
+
+"I beg your pardon, but is there anything wrong with the car?"
+
+She stood up, still feeling that, at anyrate, there was something wrong
+with the world, or with her.
+
+"No, thank you, the car's all right; I was only resting."
+
+"I beg your pardon once more, but aren't you Miss Arnott of Exham
+Park?"
+
+She looked at the speaker, which hitherto she had avoided doing. He was
+a young man of four or five and twenty, with a not unpleasing
+countenance; so far as she knew, a stranger to her.
+
+"I am, but I don't know you."
+
+"That is very possible--I am a person of no importance. My name is
+Adams--Charles Adams. I am clerk to Mr Parsloe, solicitor, of
+Winchester. We had a communication from a man who is in Winchester
+Gaol, waiting his trial for murder, a man named Baker. Possibly you
+have heard of him."
+
+"Oh yes, I have heard of Jim Baker; he is a gamekeeper on my own
+estate."
+
+"So he gave me to understand. Mr Parsloe sent me to see him. I did see
+him, in private. He gave me a note, which he was extremely anxious that
+I should give into your own hands. I was just coming on to Exham Park
+on the off-chance of finding you in. Perhaps you won't mind my giving
+it to you now?"
+
+"By all means. Why not?"
+
+He had taken out of a leather case a piece of folded paper.
+
+"You see it is rather a rough-and-ready affair, but I should like to
+give you my assurance that I have no idea what it contains."
+
+"I don't suppose it would matter much if you did. Jim Baker is hardly
+likely to have a communication of a private nature to make to me."
+
+"As to that I know nothing. I can only say that Baker was not satisfied
+till I had sworn that I would not attempt to even so much as peep at
+the contents of his note, or let it go out of my hands until it reached
+yours."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"Really! I never saw a man more desperately in earnest on a point of
+the kind."
+
+"Jim Baker is a character."
+
+"He certainly is. You will see that the note is written on a piece of
+rough paper. Where he got it from I don't know, and was careful not to
+ask; but it looks suspiciously like a fly-leaf which had been torn out
+of a book. You are possibly aware that in prison, in the ordinary way,
+they are allowed neither paper, pen nor ink. I fancy you'll find that
+this is written with a pencil. When I first saw it it had been simply
+folded, and one end slipped into the other. I happened to have some
+sealing-wax in my pocket. Baker insisted on my sealing it, in his
+presence, in three places, as you perceive, so that it was impossible
+to get at the contents without breaking the seals. I say all this
+because Baker himself was emphatically of opinion that this note
+contained matter of an extremely confidential nature, to which I should
+like you clearly to understand that I have had no sort of access. I may
+add another fact, of which you are also possibly aware, and that is
+that the whole transaction was irregular. He had no right to give me
+the note, and I had no right to convey it out of the prison; but he did
+the one, and I did the other, and here it is."
+
+Mr Adams handed the lady the scrap of paper, she asking him a question
+as he did so,--
+
+"To whom did you say that you were clerk?"
+
+"To Mr Parsloe, a well-known and highly-esteemed Winchester solicitor."
+
+"Why did Baker, as you put it, communicate with Mr Parsloe?"
+
+"He wanted us to undertake his defence."
+
+"And are you going to do so?"
+
+Mr Adams smiled.
+
+"As matters are, I am afraid not. Baker appears to be penniless, he is
+not even able to keep himself while awaiting trial, but is on the
+ordinary prison fare. It is necessary that a client should not only
+have his solicitor's sympathy, but also the wherewithal with which to
+pay his fees."
+
+"Then it is only a question of money. I see. At what address shall I
+find Mr Parsloe if I wish to do so?"
+
+The gentleman gave the lady a card.
+
+"That is Mr Parsloe's address. You will find my name in the corner as
+representing him. I may mention that I also am an admitted solicitor."
+
+"It is possible that you will hear from me. In the meantime, thank you
+very much for taking so much trouble in bringing me this note. Any
+expenses which may have been incurred I shall be happy to defray."
+
+"At present no expenses have been incurred. I need hardly say that any
+instructions with which you may honour us will receive our instant and
+most careful attention."
+
+Again Mr Adams's cap came off. He turned his bicycle round, and
+presently was speeding back the way he had come. Miss Arnott stood
+looking after him, the "note" in her hand.
+
+Jim Baker's "note," as the solicitor's clerk had more than hinted, was
+distinctly unusual as to form. It was represented by an oblong scrap of
+paper, perhaps two inches long by an inch broad. Nothing was written on
+the outside; on the exterior there was nothing whatever to show for
+what destination it was designed. As Mr Adams had said, where one end
+had been slipped into the other three seals had been affixed. On each
+seal was a distinct impression of what probably purported to be Mr
+Adams's own crest; with, under the circumstances, a sufficiently
+apposite motto--for once in a way in plain English--"Fear Nothing."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXI
+
+                               THE "NOTE"
+
+
+Miss Arnott displayed somewhat singular unwillingness to break the
+seals. She watched Mr Adams retreating on his bicycle; not only till
+the machine itself was out of sight, but the cloud of dust which marked
+its progress had vanished also. Then she turned the scrap of paper over
+and over in her fingers, possessed by an instinctive reluctance to
+learn what it contained. It seemed ridiculous to suppose that Jim Baker
+could have anything to cause her disturbance, yet she had an eerie
+feeling that there was something disagreeable inside his "note,"
+something which she would much rather not come into contact with. Had
+she followed her own inclination she would have shredded it into
+pieces, and scattered the pieces over the roadway. In some
+indescribable fashion she was actually afraid of the scrap of paper
+which she held between her fingers.
+
+It was the sudden realisation that this was so which stung her into
+action. Afraid of anything Jim Baker might have to say? She? Nonsense!
+The idea! Could anything be more absurd!
+
+There and then she broke the seals, unfolded the sheet of paper. But
+when she had got so far again she hesitated. The thing was fresh from a
+prison; had about it, she fancied, a prison atmosphere, a whiff of
+something sordid which it had borne with it out of gaol. It was that,
+she told herself, which she did not relish. Why should she read the
+scrawl? What interest could it have for her? Better instruct Mr
+Parsloe, or that eminent practitioner in the conduct of criminal cases
+with whose name Mr Stacey had furnished her, to undertake Baker's
+defence, and spare no expense in doing so, and so have done with it.
+Let her keep her own fingers out of the mire; leave the whole thing to
+the lawyers; that would be better for everyone concerned. So it would
+not be necessary for her to spell her way through the man's ill-written
+scribble.
+
+And then she read Jim Baker's "note."
+
+As Mr Adams had surmised it was written in pencil; apparently with a
+blunt stump of pencil used by unaccustomed fingers, probably under
+circumstances in which a skilful writer would have been uneasy. Here
+and there it seemed that the pencil had refused to write; possibly only
+by dint of pressure had it been induced to write at all. The letters
+were blurred and indistinct, ill-formed, irregular, disjoined--in
+general, mere hieroglyphics. And yet, despite the crabbed writing, the
+eccentric spelling, the clumsy wording, Jim Baker's "note" made a
+stronger impression on Miss Arnott than the most eloquent epistle with
+which she had ever been favoured.
+
+
+"Miss Arnott I see you done it but I wouldnt say nuthink about it if it
+wasnt that from what I ear they are going to hang me for what I se you
+doing and I wont say nuthin about it now if you se I have a loryer and
+all regular so as to get me out of this were it aint rite I should be
+sein I saw you they may cutt my tung out before Ill speak unless they
+make out I dun it so if you dont se I have a loryer and all regular Ill
+have to speke Jim Baker."
+
+
+That was Mr Baker's note; unpunctuated, formless, badly put together,
+ill-spelt, but alive and eloquent in spite of its obvious deficiencies.
+It was plain why he was so anxious that Mr Adams should not peep at the
+contents, why he had insisted on the three seals, why he had stipulated
+on its being given into Miss Arnott's own hands. From his point of view
+the "note" was a messenger of life and death, with hanging matter in
+every line.
+
+The lady read it once and again and then again. As she crumpled it up
+in her hand it seemed to her that the country round about had assumed a
+different appearance, the cloudless sky had become dimmed, a grey tint
+had settled upon everything; for her the sunlight had gone out of the
+world.
+
+Here was Jim Baker calling to her out of his prison cell that he was
+where she ought to be, because he had seen her do it, warning her, if
+she did not provide him with a lawyer "and all regular" to get him "out
+of this," that he would have to speak. What hallucination was this
+which all at once possessed men's minds? Could it be possible that the
+hallucination was actually hers? Could what, first Hugh Morice, now Jim
+Baker, said be true, and that they had seen her do it? What condition
+could she have been in at the time? Was it conceivable that a person
+could do such a deed unwittingly? During what part of her sojourn in
+the wood had she been in her sober senses? When had she ceased to be
+responsible for her own actions? and how? and why? Which of those awful
+happenings had been plain material fact and which nightmare imaginings?
+
+She re-read Jim Baker's opening words,--"Miss Arnott I see you done
+it." The accusation was bold enough, plain enough, conclusive enough.
+It staggered her; forced her to wonder if she was, unknowingly, this
+dreadful thing.
+
+But, by degrees, her common sense regained the upper-hand, and she
+began to put two and two together in an attempt to solve the mystery of
+Jim Baker's words. The man was drunk; so much was admitted. He had
+probably seen her, hazily enough, bearing away the blood-stained knife;
+and had, therefore, jumped to an erroneous conclusion. Then she
+remembered that he had sworn that, after firing the shot, he had gone
+straight home; then, how came he to see her? More, he had sworn that on
+his homeward way he had seen nothing; so, somewhere, there was a lie.
+At the very worst, Jim Baker was labouring under a misapprehension; the
+statement in his note was capable of no other explanation.
+
+Still, it was awkward that he should be under such a misapprehension,
+in view of the attitude which Hugh Morice had just been taking up. The
+problem of saving Jim Baker's life became involved. If freeing him
+meant that Mr Morice would prefer against her such a charge, and that
+Baker himself would support it; then it behoved her to be careful how
+she went. In any case it was not agreeable to think that that ancient
+but muddle-headed family retainer believed--with some considerable
+foundation in truth--that she was willing--to say no more--that he
+should suffer for her offences.
+
+Her thoughts were not pleasant companions on her homeward journey. Nor
+was her peace of mind heightened by a brief interview which she had
+with Mrs Plummer almost immediately on her return. The lady, waylaying
+her on the landing, followed her into her sitting-room. She was
+evidently in a state of considerable agitation.
+
+"My dear, there is something which I must say to you at once--at once!"
+
+Miss Arnott looked at her with that mixture of amusement and resentment
+with which she had been conscious that, of late, Mrs Plummer's near
+neighbourhood was wont to fill her.
+
+"Then by all means speak, especially if refraining from doing so would
+occasion you inconvenience."
+
+"Mrs Forrester called; you are never in when people come."
+
+"I am not sorry that I was out when Mrs Forrester came; she bores me."
+
+"You ought to fix a regular day, so that people might know when to find
+you."
+
+"You have made that remark before. Is that all you have to say?"
+
+"No, it is not; and let me tell you that this flippant way you have of
+treating everything I say may have the most serious and unlooked-for
+consequences."
+
+Miss Arnott laughed, which caused Mrs Plummer to resort to a trick she
+had--when at all put out--of rubbing the palms of her hands briskly
+together.
+
+"Oh, you may laugh; but I can assure you that if things go on like this
+much longer I don't know what will be the end of it."
+
+"The end of what?"
+
+"Do you know what Mrs Forrester has been saying? She tells me that
+there is a story going about the place that that evening you were out
+in the woods till all hours of the night; and she wanted to know if she
+should contradict it."
+
+"That's as she pleases."
+
+"But don't you see how serious it is? Won't you understand? I
+understand; if you don't. Violet, I insist upon your telling me what
+time it was when you came in that night; where you went, and what you
+did. I insist! I insist!"
+
+At each repetition Mrs Plummer brought her hands together with quite a
+smart clap. Miss Arnott looked down at the excited little woman as if
+she was still divided between two moods.
+
+"You insist? Mrs Plummer, aren't you--rather forgetting yourself?"
+
+"Of course I am prepared for you to adopt that tone. You always adopt
+it when I ask you a question, and I am ready to leave the house this
+moment if you wish it; but I can only assure you that if you won't give
+me an answer you may have to give one to somebody else before very
+long."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"I mean exactly what I say. Won't you see?"
+
+"I can see that you are in a state of excitement which is not warranted
+by anything I understand."
+
+It was odd what a disinclination the elder lady showed to meet the
+young one's eyes. She moved hither and thither, as if possessed by a
+spirit of restlessness; but, though Miss Arnott kept her gaze fixed on
+her unfalteringly wherever she went, she herself never glanced in the
+girl's direction.
+
+"Excited! I can't help being excited! How you can keep so cool is what
+I don't know! Everyone is pointing a finger and saying that you were
+out in the woods at the very time that--that wretched man was--was
+being murdered"--Mrs Plummer cast furtive looks about her as if the
+deed was being enacted that very moment before her eyes--"and asking
+where you were and what you were doing all alone in the woods at that
+hour, and how it was that you knew nothing at all of what was taking
+place, possibly quite close by you; and you let them ask, and say and
+do nothing to stop their tongues; and if they are not stopped heaven
+only knows where they'll lead them. My dear, won't you tell me where
+you went? and what it was that you were doing?"
+
+"No, Mrs Plummer, I won't--so now your question is answered. And as I
+have some letters to write may I ask you to leave me?"
+
+Mrs Plummer did glance at Miss Arnott for one moment; but for only one.
+Then, as if she did not dare to trust herself to speak again, she
+hurried from the room. Left alone, the young lady indulged in some
+possibly ironical comments on her companion's deportment.
+
+"Really, to judge from Mrs Plummer's behaviour, one would imagine that
+this business worried her more than it does me. If she doesn't exercise
+a little more self-control I shouldn't be surprised if it ends in
+making her actually ill."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXII
+
+                           MR ERNEST GILBERT
+
+
+Miss Arnott wrote to Mr Ernest Gilbert--the famous lawyer whose name Mr
+Stacey had given her--asking him to make all necessary arrangements for
+Jim Baker's defence. She expressed her own personal conviction in the
+man's innocence, desiring him to leave no stone unturned to make it
+plain, and to spare no expense in doing so. In proof of her willingness
+to pay any costs which might be incurred she enclosed a cheque for
+L500, and assured him that she would at once forward any further sum
+which might be required. Mr Gilbert furnished himself with a copy of
+the depositions given before the committing justices, and also before
+the coroner; and, having mastered them, went down to see his client in
+Winchester Gaol.
+
+He found Mr Baker in very poor plight. The gamekeeper, who probably had
+gipsy blood in his veins, had been accustomed from childhood to an open
+air life. Often in fine weather he did not resort to the shelter of a
+roof for either sleeping or eating. Crabbed and taciturn by
+constitution he loved the solitude and freedom of the woods. On a
+summer's night the turf at the foot of a tree was couch enough for him,
+the sky sufficient roof. Had he been able to give adequate expression
+to his point of view, his definition of the torments of hell would have
+been confinement within four walls. In gaol--cribbed, cabined and
+confined--he seemed to slough his manhood like a skin. His nature
+changed. When Mr Gilbert went to see him, the dogged heart of the man
+had lost half its doggedness. He pined for freedom--for God's air, and
+the breath of the woods--with such desperate longing that, if he could,
+he would have made an end of every soul in Winchester Gaol to get at
+it.
+
+Mr Gilbert summed him up--or thought he did--at sight. He made it a
+rule in these sort of cases to leap at an instant conclusion, even
+though afterwards it might turn out to be erroneous. Experience had
+taught him that, in first interviews with clients of a certain kind,
+quickness of speech--and of decision--was a trick which often paid. So
+that the door had hardly been closed which left the pair together
+than--metaphorically--he sprang at Mr Baker like a bull terrier at a rat.
+
+"Now, my man, do you want to hang?"
+
+"Hang? me? No, I don't. Who does?"
+
+"Then you'll tell me who stuck a knife into that fellow in Cooper's
+Spinney."
+
+"Me tell you? What do you mean?"
+
+"You know what I mean, and you know who handled that knife; and it's
+only by telling me that you'll save your neck from the gallows."
+
+Baker stared with tightened lips and frowning brows. This spruce little
+gentleman was beyond him altogether.
+
+"Here! you go too fast for me. I don't know who you are, not from Adam.
+Who might you be?"
+
+"My name's Gilbert--I'm a lawyer--and I'm going to save you from the
+gallows, if I can."
+
+"A lawyer?" Baker put up a gnarled hand to rasp his stubbly chin. He
+looked at the other with eyes which trouble had dimmed. "Has she sent
+you?"
+
+"She? Who?"
+
+"You know who I mean."
+
+"I shall know if you tell me. How can I know if you don't tell me?"
+
+"Has Miss Arnott sent you?"
+
+"Miss Arnott? Why should Miss Arnott send me?"
+
+"She knows if you don't."
+
+"Do you think Miss Arnott cares if you were strung up to the top of the
+tallest tree to-morrow?"
+
+"She mightn't care if I was strung up, but I ain't going to be strung
+up; and that she does know."
+
+The lawyer looked keenly at the countryman. All at once he changed his
+tone, he became urbanity itself.
+
+"Now, Baker, let's understand each other, you and I. I flatter myself
+that I've saved more than one poor chap from a hempen collar, and I'd
+like to save you. You never put that knife into that man."
+
+"Of course I didn't; ain't I kept on saying so?"
+
+"Then why should you hang?"
+
+"I ain't going to hang. Don't you make any mistake about it, and don't
+let nobody else make any mistake about it neither. I ain't going to
+hang."
+
+"But, my good fellow, in these kind of affairs they generally hang
+someone; if they can't find anyone else, it will probably be you. How
+are you going to help it?"
+
+Baker opened and closed his mouth like a trap, once, twice, thrice, and
+nothing came out of it. There was a perceptible pause; he was possibly
+revolving something in his sluggish brain. Then he asked a question,--
+
+"Is that all you've got to say?"
+
+"Of course it's not. My stock of language isn't quite so limited. Only
+I want you to see just where you're standing, and just what the danger
+is that's threatening. And I want you to know that I know that you know
+who handled that knife; and that probably the only way of saving you
+from the gallows is to let me know. You understand that it doesn't
+necessarily follow that I'm going to tell everyone; the secret will be
+as safe with me as with you. Only this is a case in which, if I'm to do
+any good, I must know where we are. Now, Baker, tell me, who was it who
+used the knife?"
+
+Again Baker's jaws opened and shut, as if automatically; then, after
+another interval, again he asked a question.
+
+"You ain't yet told me if it was Miss Arnott as sent you?"
+
+"And you haven't yet told me why Miss Arnott should send me?"
+
+"That's my business. Did she? Do you hear me ask you--did she?"
+
+Baker brought his fist down with a bang on to the wooden table by which
+he was standing. Mr Gilbert eyed him in his eager, terrier-like
+fashion, as if he were seeking for a weak point on which to make an
+attack. Then, suddenly, again his manner altered. Ignoring Baker's
+question as completely as if it had never been asked, he diverted the
+man's attention from the expected answer by all at once plunging into
+entirely different matters. Before he knew what was happening Baker
+found himself subjected to a stringent examination of a kind for which
+he was wholly unprepared. The solicitor slipped from point to point in
+a fashion which so confused his client's stupid senses that, by the
+time the interview was over, Jim Baker had but the vaguest notion of
+what he had said or left unsaid.
+
+Mr Gilbert went straight from the gaol to a post-office from which he
+dispatched this reply-paid telegram:--
+
+
+"To HUGH MORICE, Oak Dene.
+
+"When I was once able to do you a service you said that, if ever the
+chance offered, you would do me one in return. You can do me such a
+service by giving me some dinner and a bed for to-night.
+
+                                   "ERNEST GILBERT.
+
+"GEORGE HOTEL, WINCHESTER."
+
+
+He lunched at the George Hotel. While he was smoking an after-luncheon
+cigar an answer came. Hugh Morice wired to say that if he arrived by a
+certain train he would meet him at the station. Mr Gilbert travelled by
+that train, and was met. It was only after a _tete-a-tete_ dinner that
+anything was said as to the reason why the lawyer had invited himself
+to be the other's guest.
+
+"I suppose you're wondering why I've forced myself upon your
+hospitality?"
+
+"I hope that nothing in my manner has caused you to think anything of
+the kind. I assure you that I'm very glad to see you."
+
+"It's very nice of you to say so. Still, considering how I've thrown
+myself at you out of the clouds you can hardly help but wonder."
+
+"Well, I have taken it a little for granted that you have some reason
+for wishing to pay me a visit at this particular moment."
+
+"Exactly. I have. It's because I find myself in rather a singular
+situation."
+
+"As how?"
+
+The lawyer considered. He looked at his host across the little table,
+on which were their cups of coffee, with his bright eyes and the
+intensely inquisitive stare, which seemed to suggest that curiosity was
+his devouring passion. His host looked back at him lazily,
+indifferently, as if he were interested in nothing and in no one. The
+two men were in acute contrast. The one so tall and broad; the other so
+small and wiry--in the scales possibly not half Hugh Morice's size. The
+solicitor glanced round the room, inquiringly.
+
+"I suppose we're private here?"
+
+They were in the billiard-room. The doors were shut, windows closed,
+blinds drawn--the question seemed superfluous.
+
+"Perfectly. No one would hear you if you shouted."
+
+"It's just as well to be sure; because what I have to say to you is of
+a particularly private nature."
+
+"At your leisure."
+
+"You and I have had dealings before--you will probably remember that,
+under certain circumstances, I'm not a stickler for professional
+etiquette."
+
+"I remember it very well indeed."
+
+"That's fortunate. Because, on the present occasion, I'm going to outrage
+every standard of propriety which is supposed--professionally--to hedge me
+round. Now listen to me attentively; because I don't wish to use plainer
+speech than I can help; I don't want to dot my 'i's,' and I want you, at
+a hint from me, to read between the lines. This is a ticklish matter I'm
+going to talk about."
+
+"I'm all attention."
+
+"That's good; then here's what I've come to say."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXIII
+
+                              THE TWO MEN
+
+
+Yet Mr Gilbert hesitated. He took his cigar from between his lips,
+carefully removed the ash, sipped at his coffee, and all the time kept
+his glance on Hugh Morice, as if he were desirous of gleaning from his
+face indications as to the exact line which his remarks should take.
+When he did speak he still continued to stare at his host.
+
+"I have been retained to defend James Baker."
+
+"James Baker?"
+
+"The man who is to stand his trial for the murder in Cooper's Spinney."
+
+"Oh, Jim Baker. Hereabouts he is known as Jim. When you spoke of him as
+James, for the moment I didn't know who you meant."
+
+"This morning I saw him in Winchester Gaol."
+
+"That is what you were doing in Winchester? Now I understand. How is
+he?"
+
+"In a bad way. They may as well hang him as keep him jailed. He's not
+at home in there."
+
+"So I should imagine. Jim Baker!"
+
+Hugh Morice smiled sardonically, as if the idea of Jim Baker being in
+gaol was grimly humorous.
+
+"That interview has resulted in placing me in a very curious quandary."
+
+"I should imagine that interviews with your clients did occasionally
+have results of that kind."
+
+"That's so; but I don't recall one which had just this result, and--I
+don't like it. That's why I've come to you."
+
+"I don't see the sequitur. What have I to do with your
+quandaries?--that is, mind you, with your professional quandaries;
+because, outside your profession, as you're perfectly well aware, I'm
+willing enough to help you in any kind of a hole."
+
+"This is both professional and unprofessional--that's the trouble.
+Anyhow, I'm going to make you my confidant, and I shall expect you to
+give me some sort of a pointer."
+
+"What might you happen to be driving at? I take it that you don't
+credit me with the capacity to read between lines which are
+non-existent."
+
+"I'll tell you in a sentence. James--or, as you call him--Jim Baker has
+left the impression on my mind that it was Miss Arnott, of Exham Park,
+who killed that man in Cooper's Spinney."
+
+"The scoundrel!"
+
+"Generally speaking, perhaps, in this particular instance--I doubt it."
+
+"Do you mean to say that he formulated the charge in so many words?"
+
+"He never formulated it at all. On the contrary, he didn't even begin
+to make it. I fancy that if you were to go to him now, he'd say that he
+never so much as hinted at anything of the sort. But all the same it
+was so present in his mind that it got into mine. I have a knack,
+occasionally, of studying my clients' minds rather than their words."
+
+"My good sir, if A is charged with a crime he quite
+constantly--sometimes unconsciously--tries to shift the guilt on to B."
+
+"As if I didn't know it! Talk sense! There are times when I am able to
+detect the real from the counterfeit, and this is one. I tell you that
+Jim Baker is convinced that Miss Arnott stabbed that man in the wood,
+and that, if he chose, he could advance substantial reasons for the
+faith that is in him."
+
+"Good God! You--you shock me!"
+
+"Are you sure I shock you?"
+
+"What the devil do you mean by that? Look here, Gilbert, if you've come
+here to make yourself disagreeable you'll have to excuse me if I go to
+bed."
+
+"My dear chap, why this sudden explosion! So far from wishing to make
+myself disagreeable my desire is all the other way; but you haven't yet
+let me explain to you the nature of the quandary I am in."
+
+"I know Jim Baker better than you do. I've thrashed him within an inch
+of his life before to-day, and, by George! if what you say is true, I'd
+like to do it again. If you've come to retail any cock and bull stories
+emanating from that source I don't want to listen to them--that's
+plain."
+
+"Perfectly plain. I've come to retail cock and bull stories emanating
+from no source. If you'll grant me thirty seconds I'll tell you what
+the trouble is. The trouble is that I've been retained by Miss Arnott
+to defend Jim Baker."
+
+"The deuce!"
+
+"Yes, as you observe, it is the deuce. She has behaved--in a pecuniary
+sense--very handsomely, and is apparently prepared--in that sense--to
+continue to behave very handsomely."
+
+"Then where's the trouble if you're well paid for the work you're asked
+to do?"
+
+"Supposing, for the sake of argument, that Miss Arnott is guilty, and
+that Jim Baker knows it, that, from one point of view, would be a
+sufficient reason why she should spend money like water in his defence,
+and I should be placed in a very awkward situation."
+
+"Are you taking it for granted that what that blackguard says--"
+
+"Baker has said nothing."
+
+"That what he hints is true? Do you know Miss Arnott?"
+
+"I don't; do you?"
+
+"Of course, she's my neighbour."
+
+"But you're some distance apart."
+
+"Nothing as we count it in the country."
+
+"Is she an old woman?"
+
+"Old! She's a girl!"
+
+"A girl? Oh! now I perceive that we are getting upon delicate ground."
+
+"Gilbert, may I ask you to be extremely careful what you allow yourself
+to say."
+
+"I will be--extremely careful. May I take it that you are of opinion
+that there is no foundation for what Jim Baker believes?"
+
+"What on earth have I to do with what Jim Baker believes or with what
+he chooses to make you think he believes?"
+
+"Precisely; I am not connecting you with his belief in any way
+whatever. What I am asking is, are you of opinion that he has no ground
+for his belief?"
+
+"How should I know what ground he has or thinks he has? That fellow's
+mind--what he has of it--is like a rabbit warren, all twists and
+turns."
+
+The speaker had risen from his chair. Possibly with some intention of
+showing that he did not find the theme a pleasant one, he had taken
+down a billiard cue. The lawyer watched him as he prepared to make a
+shot.
+
+"Morice, do you know to what conclusion you are driving me?"
+
+"I don't know, and I don't care. Come and have a game."
+
+"Thank you, I don't mind. But first, I should like to tell you what
+that conclusion is. You are forcing me to think that Jim Baker's belief
+is yours."
+
+Mr Morice did not make his shot. Instead, he stood up straight,
+gripping his cue almost as if he meant to use it as a weapon.
+
+"Gilbert!"
+
+"It's no use glaring at me like that. I'm impervious to threats. I've
+been the object of too many. Let me tell you something else. A faint
+suspicion, which I had before I came here, has become almost a
+certainty. I believe that Baker saw what that young woman did and I
+believe you saw her also."
+
+"You hound! Damn you! I'd like to throw you out of the house!"
+
+"Oh no, you wouldn't; that's only a momentary impulse. An instant's
+reflection will show you that this is a position in which the one thing
+wanted is common sense, and you've got plenty of common sense if you
+choose to give it a chance. Don't you see that we shall, all of
+us--Miss Arnott, Jim Baker, you and me--find ourselves in a very
+uncomfortable situation, if we don't arrive at some common
+understanding. If Jim Baker saw that girl committing murder, and if you
+saw her--"
+
+"You have not the faintest right to make such a monstrous insinuation."
+
+"I have invited contradiction and none has come."
+
+"I do contradict you--utterly."
+
+"What, exactly, do you contradict?"
+
+"Everything you have said."
+
+"To descend from the general to the particular. Do you say that you did
+not see what that girl did?"
+
+"I decline to be cross-examined. I'm your host, sir, I'm not in the
+witness-box."
+
+"No, but at a word from me you very soon will be. That's the point you
+keep on missing."
+
+"Gilbert, I'll wring your neck!"
+
+"Not you, if only because you know that it would make bad worse. It's
+no good your throwing things at me. I'm as fairly in a cleft stick as
+you are. If I throw up Jim Baker's case, Miss Arnott, who has sent me a
+cheque for L500, will naturally want to know why. What shall I tell
+her? I shall have to tell her something. If, on the other hand, I stick
+to Baker, my first and only duty will be towards him. I shall have to
+remember that his life is at stake, and leave no stone unturned to save
+it. But, being employed by Miss Arnott, I don't want to take advantage
+of that employment and of her money to charge her with the crime, nor
+do I want to have to put you into the witness-box to prove it. What I
+want to know is which course am I to follow? And to get that knowledge
+I've come to you. Now, you've got the whole thing in a nutshell."
+
+Mr Morice, perhaps unconsciously, was still gripping the billiard cue
+as if it were a bludgeon. Plainly, he was ill at ease.
+
+"I wish you'd been kept out of the affair. I'd have kept you out if I'd
+had a chance. I should have known you'd make yourself a nuisance."
+
+"Having a clear perception of the lines on which I should be likely to
+make myself a nuisance, I see. Shall I tell you what I do wish? I'm
+inclined to wish that I'd been retained by Miss Arnott on her own
+account."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"You will make me dot my i's. However, I'll dot them if you like. Here
+are two men who know the truth. Isn't it probable that there are other
+persons who suspect it? So far the affair's been bungled. Baker himself
+put the police on the wrong scent. They've followed it blindly. But
+when the right man's put on the job I'm prepared to wager that he'll
+find the whole air is full of the lady's name. Then she'll want
+assistance."
+
+Hugh Morice returned the cue to its place with almost ostentatious
+precision, keeping his back towards his guest as he did so. Then,
+turning, he took up his stand before the fireplace. His manner had all
+at once become almost unnaturally calm.
+
+"There are two or three points, Mr Gilbert, on which I should like to
+arrive at that understanding which you pretend to desiderate. When you
+suggest, as you do, that I have any guilty knowledge of the crime with
+which Jim Baker stands charged, you not only suggest what is wholly
+false, but you do so without the slightest shadow of an excuse, under
+circumstances which make your conduct peculiarly monstrous. I have no
+such knowledge. It, therefore, necessarily follows that I know nothing
+of Miss Arnott's alleged complicity in the matter. More, I believe from
+my heart that she had no more to do with it than you had; she is
+certainly as innocent as you are. You yourself admit that Baker has
+said nothing. I fancy you may have jumped at an erroneous conclusion;
+your fault is over-cleverness. I know him to be a thorough-paced coward
+and rascal. If he ever does say outright, anything of the nature you
+have hinted at, there will be no difficulty whatever in proving him to
+be a liar. Now, sir, have I given you all the information which you
+require?"
+
+Mr Gilbert looked at the fresh cigar, which he had just lighted, with
+the first smile in which he had permitted himself to indulge during the
+course of the discussion.
+
+"Then I am to defend Jim Baker and do my best for him?"
+
+It was a second or two before Hugh Morice answered.
+
+"I think that, feeling as you do, you had better withdraw from the
+case."
+
+"And what shall I tell Miss Arnott?"
+
+"You need tell her nothing. I will tell her all that is necessary."
+
+"I see. I thought you would probably feel like that."
+
+"For once in a way you thought correctly."
+
+"The cheque shall be returned to her. Shall I return it through you?"
+
+"I think that perhaps you had better."
+
+"I think so also."
+
+Mr Gilbert rose from his chair.
+
+"Before I go to bed, with your permission, I will finish this excellent
+cigar upstairs, and I'm afraid that game of billiards will have to be
+postponed. Will you allow me to say, without prejudice, that if, later,
+Miss Arnott finds herself in need of legal aid I shall esteem myself
+fortunate to be allowed to render her any assistance in my power. I can
+make my presence felt in a certain kind of case, and this is going to
+be a very pretty one, though that mayn't be your feeling just now. I
+should like to add that I feel sure I could defend her much better than
+I could Jim Baker."
+
+"There will not be the slightest necessity for you to do anything of
+the kind.".
+
+"Of course not. I am merely putting a suppositious case. May I take it
+that you are the lady's friend?"
+
+"You may."
+
+"And that you would be willing to do her a service?"
+
+"I would do her any service in my power."
+
+"Then shall I tell you what is the best service you could do her?"
+
+"I am listening."
+
+"Start for the most inaccessible part of the globe you can think of at
+the very earliest opportunity, and stay there."
+
+"Why should I do that?"
+
+"Because if they can't find you, they can't put you in the witness-box,
+and, if I were acting for Miss Arnott, I would much rather, for her
+sake, that you kept out. Good-night, Mr Morice. I have to thank you for
+your generous hospitality."
+
+When the solicitor was in his bedroom he said to himself.
+
+"I'm glad I came. But what a tangle! Unless I err they'll have my lady
+under lock and key before the assizes begin; or, at anyrate, under
+police observation. And my host loves her. What a prospect? When a man,
+who is not a constitutional liar, does lie, he's apt to give his lie
+too artistic a finish; still, as an example of the lie cumulative and
+absolute, that lie of his was fair, very fair indeed."
+
+Hugh Morice had his thoughts also.
+
+"If she'd only let me know that she proposed to call in Ernest Gilbert
+I'd have stopped her somehow. There's no more dangerous man in England.
+Now it's too late. We shall have to face the music. If I am
+subp[oe]naed I'll go into the witness-box and swear I did it. She
+charged me with having done it. She shall go into the witness-box and
+give evidence against me. We'll dish Ernest Gilbert. 'Greater love hath
+no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.' And
+she's my friend, since I love her. At anyrate, I'll be her friend, if
+the thing may be."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXIV
+
+                            THE SOMNAMBULIST
+
+
+Miss Arnott was not happy. Money had not brought her anything worth
+having. In her case, fortune had been synonymous with misfortune.
+Young, rich "beyond the dreams of avarice," good-looking; all those
+papers which deal with what are ironically called "personal topics,"
+held her up to public admiration as one of the persons in the world who
+were most to be envied. In plain truth she was one of the most
+miserable. In her penniless days she was not unhappier. Then her
+trouble was simple, now it was compound. Not the least of her disasters
+was the fact that health was failing. That robust habit of mind and
+body which had, so far, stood her in good stead, was being sapped by
+the continuous strain. Her imagination was assuming a morbid tinge. Her
+nights were sleepless, or dream-haunted, which was as bad. She was
+becoming obsessed by an unhealthy feeling that she lived in a tainted
+atmosphere. That all the air about her was impregnated with suspicion.
+That she was becoming the centre of doubting eyes, whispering tongues,
+furtively pointing fingers.
+
+While she was more or less unconsciously drifting into this physically
+and mentally unhealthy condition she received a visit from a Mrs
+Forrester, in the course of which that lady insisted on dwelling on
+topics of a distinctly disagreeable kind.
+
+Mrs Forrester was a widow, childless, well-to-do. She had two
+occupations--one was acting as secretary to the local branch of the
+Primrose League, and the other was minding other people's business. She
+so managed that the first was of material assistance to her in the
+second. She was a person for whom Miss Arnott had no liking. Had she
+had a chance she would have denied herself. But Mrs Forrester came
+sailing in through the hall just as she was going out of it.
+
+"Oh, my dear Miss Arnott, this is an unexpected pleasure! I am so
+fortunate in finding you at home, I so seldom do! And there is
+something of the first importance which I must speak to you about at
+once--of the very first importance, I do assure you."
+
+The motor was at the door. Miss Arnott's inclination was to fib, to
+invent a pressing engagement--say, twenty miles off--and so shunt the
+lady off on to Mrs Plummer. It seemed as if the visitor saw what was in
+her mind. She promptly gave utterance to her intention not to be
+shunted.
+
+"Now you mustn't say you're engaged, because I sha'n't keep you a
+minute, or at most but five. That motor of yours can wait, and you
+simply must stop and listen to what I have to say. It's in your own
+interest, your own urgent interest, so I can't let you go."
+
+Miss Arnott stopped, perforce. She led the way into the red
+drawing-room. Mrs Forrester burst into the middle of the subject, which
+had brought her there, in her own peculiar fashion.
+
+"Now, before I say a single word, I want you to understand most clearly
+that the only reason which has brought me here, the one thing I have
+come for, is to obtain your permission, your authority, to contradict
+the whole story."
+
+"What story?"
+
+The visitor held up her hands.
+
+"What story! You don't mean to say you haven't heard? It simply shows
+how often we ourselves are the last persons to hear of matters in which
+we are most intimately concerned. My dear, the whole world is talking
+about it, the entire parish! And you say, what story?"
+
+"I say again, what story? I've no doubt that my concerns do interest a
+large number of persons, even more than they do me, but I've not the
+vaguest idea to which one of them you're now referring."
+
+"Is it possible? My dear, I was told no longer ago than this morning
+that you walk every night through the woods in--well, in your
+nightdress."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"Of course it's nonsense. No one knows better than I do that such an
+idea's ridiculous. But there's the story. And, as I've said, I've come
+on purpose to ask you to allow me to offer an authoritative
+contradiction."
+
+"But what is the story? I should be obliged to you, Mrs Forrester, if
+you could manage to make it a little clearer."
+
+"I will make it clear. To me it has been made painfully
+clear--painfully. I may tell you that I've heard the story, in different
+forms, from various sources. Indeed I believe it's no exaggeration to
+say that it's on everybody's tongue, and, on the whole, no wonder. My
+informant this morning was Briggs, the postman. You know him?"
+
+"I can't claim the honour. However, I'm willing to take your statement
+as proof of his existence."
+
+"A most respectable man, most respectable. His wife has fifteen
+children--twins only last March,--but perhaps I oughtn't to speak of it
+to you. He used to be night watchman at Oak Dene in old Mr Morice's
+time. Sometimes he takes the letter-bags to and from the mail train,
+which goes through at half-past one in the morning. He did so last
+night. He assures me with his own lips that, coming home, as he was
+passing your place, he heard something moving, and on looking round saw
+you among the trees in your nightdress. Of course it couldn't have been
+you. But, at the same time, it is most singular. He is such a
+respectable man, and his story was most circumstantial. Could it have
+been you?"
+
+"I was not out last night at all, and it never is my custom to wander
+about the grounds in the costume you refer to, if that is what you
+mean, Mrs Forrester--at least, not consciously."
+
+"Exactly, that is the very point, of course--not consciously. But do
+you do it unconsciously?"
+
+"Unconsciously! What do you mean?"
+
+"My dear, it is my duty to tell you that all sorts of people claim to
+have seen you wandering--sometimes actually running--through the woods
+of Exham Park at the most extraordinary hours, clad only in your
+nightdress. The suggestion is that you are walking in your sleep."
+
+"Walking in my sleep? Mrs Forrester!"
+
+"Yes, my dear, walking in your sleep. It is strange that the story
+should not have reached you; it is on everybody's tongue. But when, as
+I tell you, Briggs made that positive statement to me with his own
+lips, I felt it my bounden duty to come and see you about it at the
+earliest possible moment. Because, if there is any truth in the tale at
+all--and they can't all be liars--it is absolutely essential for your
+own protection that you should have someone to sleep with you--at any
+rate, in the same room. Somnambulism is a most serious thing. If you
+are a somnambulist--and if you aren't, what are you?--proper
+precautions ought to be taken, or goodness only knows what may happen."
+
+"If I am a somnambulist, Mrs Forrester. But am I? In all my life I have
+never heard it hinted that I am anything of the kind, and I myself have
+never had any reason to suspect it."
+
+"Still, my dear, there are all those stories told by all sorts of
+people."
+
+"They may have imagined they saw something. I very much doubt if they
+saw me."
+
+"But there is Briggs's positive assertion. I have such faith in Briggs.
+And why should he invent a tale of the sort?"
+
+"Did he see my face?"
+
+"No; he says you were walking quickly from him, almost running, but he
+is positive it was you. He wanted to come and tell you so himself; but
+I dissuaded him, feeling that it was a matter about which you would
+prefer that I should come and speak to you first."
+
+"What time was it when he supposes himself to have seen me?"
+
+"Somewhere about two o'clock."
+
+Miss Arnott reflected.
+
+"To the best of my knowledge and belief I was in bed at two o'clock,
+and never stirred from it till Evans called me to get into my bath. If,
+as you suggest, I was out in the woods in my nightdress--delightful
+notion!--surely I should have brought back with me some traces of my
+excursion. I believe it rained last night."
+
+"It did; Briggs says it was raining at the time he saw you."
+
+"Then that settles the question; he didn't see me. Was I barefooted?"
+
+"He couldn't see."
+
+"The presumption is that, if I choose to wander about in such an airy
+costume as a nightgown, it is hardly likely that I should think it
+necessary to go through the form of putting on either shoes or
+stockings. Anyhow, I should have been soaked to the skin. When I woke
+up this morning my nightgown would have shown traces at least of the
+soaking it had undergone. But not a bit of it; it was as clean as a new
+pin. Ask Evans! My feet were stainless. My bedroom slippers--the only
+footwear within reach, were unsoiled. No; I fancy, Mrs Forrester, that
+those friends of yours have ardent imaginations, and that even the
+respectable Briggs is not always to be trusted."
+
+"Then you authorise me to contradict the story _in toto?_
+
+"Yes, Mrs Forrester; I give you the fullest authority to inform anyone
+and everyone that I never, in the whole course of my life, went out for
+a stroll in my nightgown, either asleep or waking. Thank you very much
+indeed for giving me the opportunity of furnishing you with the
+necessary power."
+
+Mrs Forrester rose from her chair solemnly.
+
+"I felt that I should only be doing my duty if I came."
+
+"Of course you did, and you never miss an opportunity of doing your
+duty. Do you?"
+
+Before the lady had a chance of replying a door opened. Miss Arnott
+turned to find that it had admitted Mr Morice. The sight of him was so
+unexpected, and took her so wholly by surprise that, at a momentary
+loss for a suitable greeting, she repeated, inanely enough, almost the
+identical words which she had just been uttering to Mrs Forrester.
+
+"Mr Morice! This is--this is a surprise. I--I was just telling Mrs
+Forrester, who has been good enough to bring me rather a curious story,
+that if anyone mentions, in her hearing, that they saw me strolling
+through the woods in the middle of the night in a state of considerable
+undress, I shall be obliged if she gives such a statement a point-blank
+contradiction."
+
+Mr Morice inclined his head gravely, as if he understood precisely what
+the lady was talking about.
+
+"Certainly. Always advise Mrs Forrester to contradict everything she
+hears. Mrs Forrester hears such singular things."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXV
+
+                          HUGH MORICE EXPLAINS
+
+
+So soon as Mrs Forrester had gone Mr Morice asked a question.
+
+"What tale has that woman been telling you?"
+
+"She actually says that people have seen me walking about the woods in
+the middle of the night in my nightdress. That a postman, named Briggs,
+saw me doing so last night. I believe I am supposed to have been
+walking in my sleep. Of course it is only some nonsensical rigmarole. I
+won't say the whole thing is an invention of Mrs Forrester's own brain,
+but it's the sort of thing she's fond of."
+
+"That's true enough. It is the sort of tale she's fond of; but, for
+once in a way, she is justified by fact. Since we are on the subject I
+may as well inform you that, four nights or rather mornings, ago I
+myself saw you, at two o'clock in the morning, in Cooper's Spinney, in
+some such costume as that which you describe."
+
+"Mr Morice!"
+
+"I do not know that I should have told you if it had not been for Mrs
+Forrester; but, since she has intervened, I do so. In any case, it is
+perhaps as well that you should be on your guard."
+
+"Are you sure you saw me?"
+
+"I am not likely to make a mistake in a matter of that sort."
+
+"But are you sure it was me?"
+
+"Certain."
+
+"What was I doing?"
+
+"You were under the beech tree--our beech tree. You appeared to me to
+be looking for something on the ground--something which you could not
+find."
+
+"But four nights ago? I remember it quite well. I was reading and
+writing till ever so late. Then I fell asleep directly I got into bed.
+I certainly never woke again until Evans called me."
+
+"The probability is that you got out of bed directly you were asleep.
+It struck me that there was something singular about your whole
+proceedings. A doubt crossed my mind at the time as to whether you
+could possibly be in a somnambulistic condition. As I approached you
+retreated so rapidly that I never caught sight of you again."
+
+"Do you mean to say I was in my nightdress?"
+
+"As to that I cannot be certain. You had on something white; but it
+struck me that it was some sort of a dressing-gown."
+
+"I have no white dressing-gown."
+
+"On that point I cannot speak positively. You understand that I only
+saw you for a few seconds, just long enough to make sure that it was
+you."
+
+She put her hands up to her face, shuddering.
+
+"This is dreadful! that I should walk in my sleep--in the woods--and
+everyone see me--and I know nothing! What shall I do?"
+
+"There is one thing I should recommend. Have someone to sleep in your
+room--someone who is quickly roused."
+
+"That is what Mrs Forrester advised. I will certainly have that done. A
+bed shall be put in my room, and Evans shall sleep in it to-night. Is
+it to make this communication that you have favoured me with the very
+unexpected honour of your presence here, Mr Morice?"
+
+"No, Mrs--I beg your pardon, Miss Arnott--it is not." As she noticed
+the slip she flushed. "The errand which has brought me here is of a
+different nature, though not, I regret to say, of a more pleasant one."
+
+"Nothing pleasant comes my way. Do not let unpleasantness deter you, Mr
+Morice. As you are aware I am used to it."
+
+There was a bitterness in her tone which hurt him. He turned aside,
+searching for words to serve him as a coating of sugar, and failing to
+find them.
+
+"Why," he presently asked, "did you instruct Ernest Gilbert to defend
+Jim Baker?"
+
+She stared in amazement; evidently that was not what she expected.
+
+"Why? Why shouldn't I?"
+
+"For the simple but sufficient reason that he was the very last man
+whose interference you should have invited in a matter of this
+particular kind."
+
+"Mr Stacey was of a different opinion. It was he who gave me his name.
+He said he was the very man I wanted."
+
+"Mr Stacey? Mr Stacey was not acquainted with all the circumstances of
+the case, Miss Arnott. Had you consulted me--"
+
+"I should not have dreamt of consulting you."
+
+"Possibly not. Still, I happen to know something of Mr Gilbert
+personally, and had you consulted me I should have warned you that, in
+all human probability, the result would be exactly what it has turned
+out to be."
+
+"Result? Has anything resulted?"
+
+"Something has--Mr Gilbert has withdrawn from the case."
+
+"Withdrawn from the case! What do you mean?"
+
+"Here is the L500 which you sent him. He has requested me to hand it
+back to you."
+
+"A cheque for L500? Mr Morice, I don't understand! Why has Mr Gilbert
+returned me this?"
+
+"I will tell you plainly. We are, both of us, in a position in which
+plainness is the only possible course."
+
+"Well, tell me--don't stand choosing your words--tell me plainly! Why
+has Mr Gilbert sent me back my cheque through you?"
+
+"Because Jim Baker conveyed the impression to his mind that
+he--Jim--saw you commit the crime with which he stands charged."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"I think you do. Gilbert's position is that he finds himself unable to
+retain your money when his duty to Baker may necessitate his putting
+you in the dock on the capital charge."
+
+"Mr Morice! It's--it's not true!"
+
+"Unfortunately, it is true. Lest, however, you should think the
+position worse than it actually is, part of my business here is to
+reassure your mind on at least one point."
+
+"Reassure my mind! Nothing will ever do that--ever! ever! And
+reassurance from you!--from you!"
+
+"If matters reach a certain point--before they go too far--it is my
+intention to surrender myself--say, to Granger--our local
+representative of law and order--as having been guilty of killing that
+man in Cooper's Spinney."
+
+"Mr Morice! Do you--do you mean it?"
+
+"Certainly I mean it. Then you will have an opportunity of going into
+the witness-box and giving that testimony of which you have spoken.
+That in itself ought to be sufficient to hang me."
+
+"Mr Morice!"
+
+"What we have principally to do is to render it impossible that the
+case against me shall fail. A very trifling accident may bring the
+whole business to an end; especially if Ernest Gilbert puts ever such a
+distant finger in the pie. Against the possibility of such an accident
+we shall have to guard. For instance, by way of a beginning, where's
+that knife?"
+
+"Knife?"
+
+"The knife."
+
+"I've lost the key."
+
+"Lost the key? of what?"
+
+"I put it in a wardrobe drawer with my--my things, and locked it, and,
+somehow, I lost the key."
+
+"I don't quite follow. Do you mean that, having locked up my knife in a
+drawer with some other articles, you have mislaid the key of the lock?"
+
+"Yes, that's what I mean."
+
+"Then in that case, you had better break that lock open at the earliest
+possible moment."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"The answer's obvious, in order that you may hand me back my knife. If
+I'm to be the criminal it will never do for my knife to be found in
+your possession. It would involve all sorts of difficulties which we
+might neither of us find it easy to get over. Give me the knife. I will
+hide it somewhere on my own premises, where I'll take care that, at the
+proper moment, it is found. Properly managed, that knife ought to make
+my guilt as plain as the noonday sun; mismanaged, the affair might
+assume quite a different complexion."
+
+For the first time a doubt entered the girl's mind.
+
+"Mr Morice, do you wish me to understand that you propose to surrender
+merely to save me?"
+
+"I wish you to understand nothing of the sort. The position is--in its
+essence--melodrama; but do let us make it as little melodramatic as we
+conveniently can. Someone must suffer for the--blunder. It may as well
+be me. Why not?"
+
+"Do you wish me--seriously--to believe that it was not you
+who--blundered?"
+
+"Of course I blundered--and I've kept on blundering ever since. One
+blunder generally does lead to another, don't you know. Come--Miss
+Arnott"--each time, as she noticed, there was a perceptible pause
+before he pronounced the name to which she still adhered--"matters have
+reached a stage when, at any moment, events may be expected to move
+quickly. Your first business must be to get that drawer open--key or no
+key--and let me have that knife. You may send it by parcel post if you
+like. Anyhow, only let me have it. And, at latest, by tomorrow night.
+Believe me, moments are becoming precious. By the way, I hope it hasn't
+been--cleaned."
+
+"No, it hasn't been cleaned."
+
+"That would have been to commit a cardinal error. In an affair of this
+sort blood-stains are the things we want; the _pieces de conviction_
+which judge and jury most desire. Give me the knife--my knife--that did
+the deed, with the virginal blood-stains thick upon it. Let it be
+properly discovered by a keen-nosed constable in an ostentatious
+hiding-place, and the odds are a hundred to one as to what the verdict
+will be. A hundred? a million! I assure you that I already feel the
+cravat about my neck." Hugh Morice put his hand up to his throat with a
+gesture which made Miss Arnott shiver. "Only, I do beg of you, lose no
+time. Get that drawer open within the hour, and let me have my
+hunting-knife before you have your dinner. Let me entreat you to grasp
+this fact clearly. At any moment Jim Baker may be out of Winchester Gaol;
+someone will have to take his place. That someone must be me."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXV
+
+                             THE TWO MAIDS
+
+
+After Hugh Morice had left her, Miss Arnott had what was possibly the
+worst of all her bad half hours. The conviction of his guilt had been
+so deeply rooted in her mind that it required something like a
+cataclysm to disturb its foundations. She had thought that nothing
+could have shaken it; yet it had been shaken, and by the man himself.
+As she had listened to what he had been saying, an impression had been
+taking hold of her, more and more, that she had misjudged him. If so,
+where was she herself standing? A dreadful feeling had been stealing on
+her that he genuinely believed of her what she had believed of him. If
+such was the case, what actually was her position.
+
+Could she have done the thing which he believed her to have done? It
+was not only, moreover, what he believed; there were others. An array
+of witnesses was gathering round her, pointing with outstretched
+fingers. There was Jim Baker--it seemed that he was honestly persuaded
+that, with his own eyes, he had seen her kill her husband. So
+transparent was his honesty that he had succeeded--whether
+intentionally or not she did not clearly understand--in imparting his
+faith to the indurated lawyer to such a degree, that he had actually
+thrown her money back at her, as if it had been the price of blood. She
+had little doubt that if her own retainers were polled, and forced to
+vote in accordance with the dictates of their consciences, merely on
+the strength of the evidence they believed themselves to be already in
+possession of, they would bring her in as guilty. She had had this
+feeling dimly for some time--she had it very clearly then.
+
+And now she was walking in her sleep. That thing of which she had read
+and heard, but never dreamt to be--a somnambulist. It seemed that her
+conscience drove her out at dead of night to revisit--unwittingly--the
+scene of the crime which stained her soul.
+
+Could that be the interpretation of the stories which Mrs Forrester had
+told her? and Hugh Morice? She had been seen, it would appear, by half
+the countryside, clad--how? wandering--conscience-driven--on what
+errand?
+
+The more she thought, however, of the tale which Briggs the postman had
+retailed to Mrs Forrester, not to speak of Hugh Morice's strange
+narrative--the more she doubted--the more she had to doubt. They
+might have the evidence of their own eyes, but it seemed to her that
+she had evidence which was at least equally conclusive. It was
+incredible--impossible that she could have tramped through the rain and
+the mire, among the trees and the bushes, in the fashion described, and
+yet have found no traces of her eccentric journeyings either on her
+clothes or on her person. But in that matter measures could--and should--be
+taken. She would soon learn if there was any truth in the tales so far as
+they had reference to her. Evans should be installed in her room that night
+as watchman. Then, if she attempted to get out of bed while fast
+asleep, the question would be settled on the spot. The question of the
+knife--Hugh Morice's knife--was a graver one. But as regards that also
+steps should be promptly taken. Whether it should be returned to its
+owner as he suggested, or retained in her possession, or disposed of
+otherwise. These were problems which required consideration. In the
+meanwhile, she would have it out of its hiding-place at once. She went
+upstairs to force open that wardrobe drawer. So soon as she entered her
+bedroom she perceived that she had been forestalled, and that, in
+consequence, a lively argument was going on. The disputants were
+two--her own maid, Evans, and Wilson, the housemaid, who had been
+supposed to have been in part responsible for the disappearance of the
+key. Miss Arnott was made immediately conscious--even before she opened
+the door--that the pair were talking at the top of their voices. Evans's
+was particularly audible. She was pouring forth on to her fellow-servant
+a flood of language which was distinctly the reverse of complimentary.
+So occupied, indeed, were they by the subject under discussion that, until
+Miss Arnott announced her presence, they were not conscious that she
+had come into the room.
+
+Their young mistress paused on the threshold, listening, with feelings
+which she would have found it difficult to analyse, to some of the
+heated observations which the disputants thought proper to fling at
+each other. She interrupted Evans in the middle of a very warmly
+coloured harangue.
+
+"Evans, what is the meaning of this disturbance? and of the
+extraordinary language you are using?"
+
+The maid, though evidently taken by surprise by the advent of her
+mistress, showed very few of the signs of shame and confusion which
+some might have considered would have become a person in her position.
+Apparently she was much too warm to concern herself, at anyrate for the
+moment, with matters of etiquette. She turned to Miss Arnott a flushed
+and angry face, looking very unlike the staid and decorous servant with
+whom that young lady was accustomed to deal. Hot words burst from her
+lips,--
+
+"That there Wilson had the key all the time. I knew she had."
+
+To which Wilson rejoined with equal disregard of ceremonial usages,--
+
+"I tell you I hadn't! Don't I tell you I hadn't! At least, I didn't
+know that I had, not till five minutes ago."
+
+Evans went on, wholly ignoring her colleague's somewhat singular
+disclaimer,--
+
+"Then if she didn't use it to unlock your drawer with--your private
+drawer--and to take liberties with everything that was inside it. I
+daresay if I hadn't come and caught her she'd have walked off with the
+lot. And then to have the face to brazen it out!"
+
+To which Wilson, in a flame of fury,--
+
+"Don't you dare to say I'd have taken a single thing, because I won't
+have it. I'm no more a thief than you are, nor perhaps half so much,
+and so I'll have you know. You're a great deal too fond of calling
+names, you are; but if you call me a thief I'll pay you for it. You
+see!"
+
+Evans turned again to her adversary, eager for a continuance of the
+fray.
+
+"If you weren't going to take them what did you go to the drawer for?"
+
+"I tell you I went to the drawer to see if it was the key.
+
+"Why didn't you bring the key to me?"
+
+"I would have brought it, if you'd given me a chance."
+
+"You would have brought it! Didn't I catch you--"
+
+Miss Arnott thought she had heard enough; she interposed.
+
+"Will you be so good as to be still, both of you, and let me understand
+what is the cause of this disgraceful scene. Evans, has the key of the
+drawer been found?"
+
+"Yes, miss, it has. It was never lost; she had it all the time, as I
+suspected."
+
+"I didn't have it, miss--leastways, if I did, I didn't know it, not
+till just now."
+
+"Explain yourself, Wilson. Has or has not the key been in your
+possession?"
+
+"It's like this, miss; it must somehow have slipped inside my dress
+that morning when I was making your bed."
+
+"She'll explain anything!"
+
+This was the resentful Evans.
+
+"I'll tell the truth anyhow, which is more than you do."
+
+Again their mistress interposed.
+
+"Evans, will you allow Wilson to tell her story in her own way. Wilson,
+you forget yourself. On the face of it, your story is a lame one. What
+do you mean by saying that the key of my wardrobe drawer slipped into
+your dress? Where was it that it was capable of such a singular
+proceeding?"
+
+"That's more than I can tell you, miss. I can only say that just now
+when I was taking down a skirt which I haven't worn since I don't know
+when, it felt heavy, and there in the hem on one side--it's a broad
+hem, miss, and only tacked--there was a key, though how it got there I
+haven't a notion."
+
+"Of course not!"
+
+This was Evans. Miss Arnott was in time to prevent a retort.
+
+"Evans! Well, Wilson, what did you do then?"
+
+"I came with it to Evans."
+
+The lady's-maid was not to be denied.
+
+"That's a falsehood, anyhow. You came with it to me! I do like that!"
+
+The housemaid was equal to the requirements of the occasion.
+
+"I did come with it to you. I came with it straight to this bedroom.
+They told me you were here; it wasn't my fault if you weren't."
+
+"Oh dear no! And, I suppose, it wasn't your fault if, finding I wasn't
+here, you unlocked the drawer!"
+
+"I only wanted to see if it was the lost key I had found; I meant no
+harm."
+
+Again Miss Arnott.
+
+"Now, Evans, will you be silent! Well, Wilson, I don't see that, so
+far, you have been guilty of anything very reprehensible. It's quite
+possible that, somehow, the key may have slipped into the hem of your
+skirt; such accidents have been known. When you had tried the key and
+found that it was the one which had been mislaid; when you had opened
+the drawer with it, what did you do then?"
+
+Again the lady's-maid was not to be denied. Orders or no orders, she
+refused to be silent.
+
+"Yes, what did she do? I'll tell you what she did; don't you listen to
+anything she says, miss. She took liberties with everything that was
+inside that drawer, just as if the things was her own. She turned all
+the things out that was in it; you can see for yourself that it's
+empty! and she's got some of them now. Though I've asked her for them
+she won't give them up; yet she has the face to say she didn't mean to
+steal 'em!"
+
+This time the housemaid was silent. Miss Arnott became conscious that
+not only had she been all the time holding herself very upright, but,
+also, that she was keeping her hands behind her back--in short, that
+her attitude more than suggested defiance.
+
+"Wilson, is this true?"
+
+The answer was wholly unlooked for.
+
+"My mother is Jim Baker's cousin, miss."
+
+"Your mother--" Miss Arnott stopped short to stare. "And what has that
+to do with your having in your possession property which is not your
+own?"
+
+Her next answer was equally unexpected.
+
+"And Mr Granger, he's my uncle, miss."
+
+"Mr Granger? What Mr Granger?"
+
+"The policeman down in the village, miss."
+
+"Apparently, Wilson, you are to be congratulated on your relations, but
+I don't see what they have to do with what Evans was saying."
+
+"I can't help that, miss."
+
+"You can't help what? Your manner is very strange. What do you mean?"
+The girl was silent. Miss Arnott turned to the lady's-maid. "Evans,
+what does she mean?"
+
+"Don't ask me, miss; she don't know herself. The girl's wrong in her
+head, that's what's the matter with her. She'll get herself into hot
+water, if she don't look out; and that before very long. Now, then, you
+give me what you've got there!"
+
+"Don't you lay your hands on me, Mrs Evans, or you'll be sorry."
+
+"Evans!--Wilson!"
+
+Kit had not been for Miss Arnott's presence it looked very much as if
+the two would have indulged in a scrimmage then and there. The
+lady's-maid showed a strong inclination to resort to physical force,
+which the other evinced an equal willingness to resent.
+
+"Wilson, what is it which you are holding behind your back? I insist
+upon your showing me at once."
+
+"This, miss--and this."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVII
+
+                              A CONFIDANT
+
+
+In her right hand Wilson held a knife--the knife. Miss Arnott needed no
+second glance to convince her of its identity. In her left a dainty
+feminine garment--a camisole, compact of lace and filmy lawn. The
+instant she disclosed them Evans moved forward, as if to snatch from
+her at least the knife. But Wilson was as quick as she was--quicker.
+Whipping her hands behind her back again she retreated out of reach.
+
+"No, you don't! hands off! you try to snatch, you do!"
+
+The baffled lady's-maid turned to her mistress.
+
+"You see, miss, what she's like! and yet she wants to make out that
+she's no thief!"
+
+Miss Arnott was endeavouring to see through the situation in her mind,
+finding herself suddenly confronted by the unforeseen. It was
+impossible that the girl could mean what she seemed to mean; a raw
+country wench in her teens!
+
+"Wilson, you seem to be behaving in a very strange manner, and to be
+forgetting yourself altogether. It is not strange that Evans has her
+doubts of you. Give me those things which you have in your hands at
+once."
+
+"Begging your pardon, miss, I can't."
+
+"They're not yours."
+
+"No, miss, I know they're not."
+
+"Then, if you're an honest girl, as you pretend, what possible reason
+can you have for refusing to give me my own property, which you have
+taken out of my drawer in a manner which is at least suspicious?"
+
+"Because Jim Baker, he's my mother's cousin; and Mr Granger he's my
+uncle."
+
+"What possible justification can that be for your trying to steal what
+belongs to me?"
+
+Then it came out.
+
+"My uncle he says to me, 'I don't believe Jim Baker done it--I don't
+believe he did anything to the chap beyond peppering him. Jim's no
+liar. 'Twill be a shame if they hang him. No, my girl,' Mr Granger
+says, 'it's my belief that they know more over at Exham Park than they
+pretend, or, at least, someone does. You keep your eyes wide open. We
+don't want to have no one hung in our family, specially for just
+peppering a chap. If you come across anything suspicious, you let me
+know and you let me have a look at it, if so be you can. Your mother
+don't want to have Jim Baker hung, nor more don't I.' Miss Arnott, you
+put them things in the drawer the time that you came home, the time
+that chap was murdered, the time that you was out in the woods till all
+hours. They haven't found the knife what did it yet, and this knife's
+all covered with blood; so's the things. I'm going to let Mr Granger
+see what I've got here, and tell him where I found them. If there's
+nothing wrong about them I'll have to suffer, but show them to him I
+will."
+
+Miss Arnott, perceiving that here was an emergency in which prompt
+action was the one thing needful, glanced at Evans, who was quick to
+take the hint. She advanced towards Wilson with designs which that
+young woman considered sufficiently obvious. To evade her, still
+holding her booty behind her to secure it from Evans, she turned her
+back to Miss Arnott who was not slow to avail herself of the
+opportunity to grip her wrists and tear the knife and camisole away
+from her. The wench, finding herself outwitted, sprang at her mistress,
+screaming,--
+
+"Give them to me! give them to me! You give them back to me!"
+
+But Miss Arnott had already dropped them into the open wardrobe drawer,
+shut the drawer and turned the key. While she kept the girl at arms'
+length, to prevent her wresting from her the key, Miss Arnott issued
+her instructions to the lady's-maid.
+
+"Evans, ring the bell, keep on ringing."
+
+There was a lively minute or so. Then Bevan, Mr Day's understudy,
+appeared in the doorway, to stare at the proceedings open-eyed. Miss
+Arnott had succeeded in retaining possession of the key, though she had
+not found the excited girl easy to manage. Bevan, striding forward,
+spun the housemaid round on her feet as if she were a teetotum.
+
+"Now, then," he demanded, "what do you think you're doing? Are you
+mad?"
+
+"Bevan," exclaimed Miss Arnott, "Wilson has been misbehaving herself.
+See that she is paid her wages and sent about her business at once."
+
+Wilson, who by now was more than half hysterical, shrieked defiance.
+
+"Mr Bevan, you make her give me that knife! you make her. I believe she
+killed that chap in Cooper's Spinney. She's got the knife she killed
+him with shut up in that drawer there! You make her give it me! I'm
+going to show it to my uncle!"
+
+Bevan was unsympathetic.
+
+"Now, then, out you go!" was the only answer he made to her appeal.
+
+But Mr Granger's niece was not disposed to go in compliance with his
+mere request. When he essayed persuasion of a more active kind she
+began to fight him tooth and nail. Reinforcements had to be brought
+upon the scene. When, finally, she was borne from the room, she was
+kicking and struggling like some wild cat. A pretty tumult she managed
+to create as they conveyed her down the stairs.
+
+Miss Arnott and her maid, left alone together, surveyed each other with
+startled looks. The plumage of both had been something more than
+ruffled; a tress of hair which was hanging down Miss Arnott's back was
+proof of the housemaid's earnestness. Evans was the first to speak.
+
+"I wish you'd let me do as I said, miss--break that drawer open, and
+let me wash those things."
+
+"But who would have thought she was such a creature! Is she mad?"
+
+"Oh, she's sane enough after her own fashion; though, if she's one of
+that Baker and Granger set, she's mad enough for anything. I can't
+abide that village lot, and they know it. I wish you'd let me do as I
+said!"
+
+"I wish I had. As for my clothes, you can wash them now--if you don't
+mind, that is."
+
+"I'll wash them fast enough. I've done some washing in my time. Though,
+after those stains have been in them all this time, they'll want some
+soaking. What are you going to do about that knife, miss? If I had
+known it was there I'd have broken open that drawer first and asked
+your permission afterwards."
+
+"I'll see to that."
+
+"You'll see to it! But, miss, you'll never get these stains out, never!
+not now! They're eaten into the steel! Nothing will get them out except
+re-burnishing. If that Wilson gets down to that fool of a Granger it's
+quite likely that we'll have him here with a search warrant, and then
+Heaven help us! No, miss, you'll give me that knife, if you please.
+I'll make it safe enough."
+
+Miss Arnott was struck by the singularity of the woman's manner; she
+yielded to a sudden impulse.
+
+"Evans, I fancy you are under a misapprehension. If so, let me remove
+it from your mind, if it can be removed. I believe you think that I am
+responsible for what happened to that man in Cooper's Spinney. I'm not.
+I had no hand in it whatever."
+
+"You didn't kill him?"
+
+"Emphatically, no. I had nothing to do with killing him; nothing."
+
+"Miss, are you sure?"
+
+"I am quite sure; quite."
+
+"I believe you, miss, I believe you. But--I don't understand--the
+stains upon your things; the knife? If you didn't kill him yourself you
+know who did."
+
+"I thought I did; that is why the knife is in my possession. Bringing
+it home--inside my bodice--caused the stains."
+
+"Whose knife is it? Did it belong to the--man who was killed?"
+
+"No; it did not. I would rather not tell you to whom it did belong--at
+least, not now."
+
+"You know?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know. Evans, I believe you're disposed to be my friend, and
+I'm in need of a friend."
+
+"You are, miss, in more need than you have perhaps a notion of. I don't
+want to use any big words, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for you,
+and be glad to do it, as, maybe, before all's done, I'll prove. But I
+wish you'd trust me, miss--trust me all the way. I wish you'd tell me
+whose knife that is and how you came to have it."
+
+"I'd rather not, and for this reason. I was convinced that the owner of
+that knife was the murderer. That is why, when I found it, I brought it
+home with me.
+
+"To screen him?"
+
+"You must not ask me that. Quite lately I have begun to think that I
+was wrong, that the owner of that knife is as innocent as I am. It's a
+tangle. I was quite close when it happened; I heard it all happening;
+yet now I am conscious that I have no more real knowledge of who did it
+than you have. You mustn't ask me any questions; I may tell you more
+some other time--I may have to--not now! not now! I want to think! But,
+Evans, there is one thing I wish to say to you--do you believe that I'm
+a somnambulist?"
+
+"A somnambulist? A sleep-walker do you mean? Whatever has put that idea
+into your head?"
+
+"Have you heard the tales they're telling--about my having been seen in
+the woods at night in my nightdress?"
+
+"I've heard some stuff; it's all a pack of nonsense! What next?"
+
+"Do you know Briggs the postman? What sort of man is he?"
+
+"He's got his head screwed on right enough for a countryman."
+
+"Well, Mrs Forrester called this afternoon for the express purpose of
+informing me that Briggs the postman saw me in the woods at two o'clock
+this morning in my nightdress."
+
+"But, miss, it's impossible! Did you ever walk in your sleep?"
+
+"Never to my knowledge. Have you ever had occasion to suspect me of
+anything of the kind?"
+
+"That I certainly have not."
+
+"This time it seems peculiarly incredible, because it was pouring cats
+and dogs. If I had done anything of the sort there must have been
+traces on my nightdress, or on something. This is a question I mean to
+have settled one way or the other. I'm going to have a bed put up in
+this room, and I'm going to ask you to sleep in it, if you conveniently
+can, with one eye open. You'll soon find out what my habits are when
+fast asleep. Between ourselves I believe that this is going to be an
+opportunity for me to play that favourite character in fiction--the
+detective--on lines of my own."
+
+"I'll sleep here, miss, and be pleased to do it. But as for your
+walking in your sleep, I should have found it out long ago if you'd
+been given that way. I don't believe a word of it; that's all
+nonsense."
+
+Miss Arnott seemed to reflect before she spoke again.
+
+"I'm not so sure of that--that it's all nonsense, Evans. I'm going to
+tell you something; at present it's a secret, but I think I can trust
+you to keep it. You're not the only person who has suspected me of
+having killed that man."
+
+"Lor' bless you, miss, as if I didn't know that! That's no secret! I
+don't believe you've any idea yourself of what a dangerous place it is
+in which you're standing."
+
+"I'll be ready for the danger--when it comes. I'll not be afraid. What
+I meant was that I have been actually supposed to have been seen
+killing that man. Someone was seen to kill him, and that someone was a
+woman."
+
+"You're quite sure, miss, that it wasn't you? You're quite sure?"
+
+"Quite, Evans; don't you be afraid."
+
+"Then if that's so, miss, I don't mind. If you're innocent I don't care
+what they do; let them do their worst."
+
+"That's what I feel--exactly. But I wish you'd let me make my meaning
+clear to you! If a woman did do it, then--though I confess I don't
+understand how--we must all of us be on the wrong scent, and the woman
+who has been seen wandering through the woods at dead of night--and
+that such an one has been seen I have good reasons for knowing--is the
+one we want. So what we have to do is to identify that somnambulist."
+
+"But how are we going to do it?"
+
+"That, as yet, I own is more than I can tell you. The first step is to
+make sure it isn't me."
+
+"Don't you fret about that, miss; I'm sure it isn't. I'll take these
+things away and get 'em in soak at once." She gathered up the various
+garments which her mistress had worn on that fateful night. "I wish
+you'd let me take that knife; I'd feel safer if you would."
+
+"Thank you, Evans; but at present I'd rather you left the knife with
+me."
+
+As Evans left the room Mrs Plummer came in, in the state of fluster
+which, of late, was her chronic condition.
+
+"My dear," she began, "what is this I hear about Wilson? What is this
+shocking story?"
+
+"Wilson has misbehaved herself and is therefore no longer in my
+service. I imagine, Mrs Plummer, that that is what you hear. I am sorry
+you should find it so shocking. It is not such a very unusual thing for
+a servant to forget herself, is it?"
+
+"I don't know, my dear, when it comes to fighting Bevan and positively
+assaulting you. But everything seems to be at sixes and sevens; nothing
+seems to go right, either indoors or out. It makes me most unhappy. And
+now there's an extraordinary person downstairs who insists on seeing
+you."
+
+"An extraordinary person? What do you call an extraordinary person? Do
+you know, Mrs Plummer, that a good deal of your language lately has
+seemed to me to have had a flavour of exaggeration."
+
+"Exaggeration? You call it exaggeration? I should have thought it would
+have been impossible to exaggerate some of the things which have
+happened in this neighbourhood in the last few weeks. But there's no
+accounting for people. I can only tell you that I should call the
+person who is below an extraordinary person. Here is her card; she
+herself thrust it into my hand."
+
+"Mrs Darcy Sutherland? I don't know anyone of that name."
+
+"She knows you, or she pretends she does. I met her on the steps as I
+was coming in. When I told her you were out--because I thought you had
+gone on your motor, you said you were going--she replied that she would
+wait till you came back, if she had to wait a week. That I call an
+extraordinary remark to make."
+
+"It is rather an unusual one. I will go down and see Mrs Darcy
+Sutherland."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+                          MRS DARCY SUTHERLAND
+
+
+As Miss Arnott went to her visitor she had premonitions that more
+disagreeables were at hand. No one whom she was desirous of seeing
+would have uttered such a speech as that which Mrs Plummer had
+repeated. Her premonitions were realised to the full. As she entered
+the sitting-room, into which the caller had been shown, a big, blowsy,
+over-dressed woman rose from a chair, whom the girl instantly
+acknowledged that Mrs Plummer had been perfectly justified in calling
+an extraordinary person. She was painted, and powdered, and pencilled,
+and generally got up in a style which made it only too plain what kind
+of character she was. With a sinking heart Miss Arnott recognised Sarah
+Stevens, her quondam associate as a model in that costume department of
+that Regent Street draper's where, once upon a time--it seemed
+centuries ago--she had earned her daily bread, the woman who had
+introduced her to Robert Champion, who had urged her to marry him, to
+whom she owed all the trouble which had come upon her, and whose real
+character she had learned too late.
+
+She had not expected, as she had asked herself what awaited her now,
+that it was anything so bad as this.
+
+"You!" she stammered.
+
+"Yes, my dear, me! A nice little surprise for you, isn't it?" The woman
+advanced towards her with the apparent intention of greeting her with a
+kiss. Miss Arnott showed by her manner, as much as by the way in which
+she drew back, that she did not intend to submit to anything of that
+sort. The visitor was not at all abashed. She continued to smile the
+hard, mechanical smile of the woman of her class. "You didn't expect to
+see me, I'll be bound. Perhaps you'd forgotten me, and you thought,
+perhaps, that I'd forgotten you, but you see I haven't. I've got a very
+good memory, I have. Well, my love, and how are you? You're not looking
+so well as I expected; quite peaked, you seem, nothing like so well
+filled out as you used to be."
+
+"What do you mean by coming here? And by calling yourself Mrs Darcy
+Sutherland?"
+
+"My dear Vi!"
+
+"Have the goodness not to address me by my Christian name."
+
+"It used to be Vi and Sally in the days gone by. But I suppose
+circumstances are changed, that sometimes makes a difference. I don't
+mind, it's all the same to me. I'll call you whatever you choose--Miss
+Arnott if you like. I'm surprised to find that they all do seem to call
+you that round here."
+
+"You haven't answered my questions. Why have you come here? And why do
+you call yourself Mrs Sutherland?"
+
+"As to why I've come here, I'll tell you in half a minute, though
+there's some who wouldn't ask such a thing of an old friend. Let me get
+my breath, my love; that rotten old fly shook me all to pieces. As to
+why I call myself Mrs Sutherland--that does seem an unpleasant remark
+to make to a lady, let alone an old friend. But I'm not one that's
+quick to take offence. I call myself Mrs Sutherland because I am Mrs
+Sutherland. I've married since I saw you last."
+
+"You've married?"
+
+"Yes, why shouldn't I? And, unlike you, I'm not ashamed of my married
+name, or of my husband's. By the way, my love, you must remember my
+husband."
+
+"Remember him?"
+
+"Of course you must. He remembers you quite well. He was a friend of
+your husband's."
+
+"A friend of my husband?"
+
+"Rather. They were pals--thick as thieves. Darcy knew Robert Champion
+long before you did."
+
+"Darcy?"
+
+"That's my husband's Christian name. You can call him by it if you
+like, though you don't want me to call you by yours. But then I'm more
+open-minded, perhaps, than you are, and open-hearted too."
+
+"Be so good as to tell me why you have come here."
+
+The woman took a handkerchief from the bag made of steel beads which
+was suspended from her waist; opening it out she twiddled it between
+the white-gloved fingers of either hand. Miss Arnott immediately became
+conscious of the odour of some strong perfume.
+
+"Can't you guess?"
+
+"I cannot."
+
+"Sure?"
+
+"I am quite sure that I am unable to think of any plausible excuse for
+your presence in my house. You never were a friend of mine. Nor are you
+a person whose acquaintance I desire to renew. You are perfectly well
+aware that I know what kind of character you are. You did me all the
+harm you could. It was only by the mercy of God that you did not do me
+more. I do not intend to allow my house to be sullied by your presence
+one moment longer than I can help."
+
+The girl crossed the room.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"I am going to ring to have you shown to the door."
+
+"You had better hear first what I've come for, unless you want me to
+tell you in front of your servants."
+
+"As to that, I am indifferent. If you have anything to say to me say it
+at once."
+
+"Oh, I'll tell you fast enough, don't you worry. It won't take me long
+to say it. I can say it in just one sentence. Mrs Champion, I've come
+to see your husband."
+
+The girl started, perceiving that trouble was threatening from still
+another quarter. She was conscious that her visitor noticed her start,
+but in spite of it she could not prevent her pulses throbbing
+unpleasantly.
+
+"My husband? What do you mean?"
+
+"Oh, you know what I mean well enough, don't try acting the stupid with
+me. You're not so dull as all that, nor yet so simple; and I'm not if
+you are. Mrs Champion, I've come to see your husband, Mr Robert
+Champion, my old friend Bob."
+
+"He's not here, you know he's not here."
+
+"How do I know he's not here? I know he came here."
+
+"How do you know he came here?"
+
+"Because me and my husband met him outside the gate of Wandsworth
+Prison the Saturday morning he came out of it from doing his sentence.
+His wife ought to have been there--that's you! but you wasn't! I
+suppose you were on your couch of rose-leaves and didn't want to be
+disturbed. Nice idea of a wife's duties you seem to have, and a pretty
+sort you are to want to look down on me. Poor fellow! he was in sad
+trouble, without a penny in his pocket, or a chance of getting one, and
+him with the richest woman in England for his wife. When we told him of
+the luck you'd had--"
+
+"So it was you who told him, was it?"
+
+"Yes, it was, and I daresay you'd have rather we hadn't; you'd have
+rather he'd starved and got into trouble again, and rotted out his life
+in gaol. But Darcy and me were his true friends, if his own wife
+wasn't. We weren't going to see him hungry in the gutter while you were
+gorging yourself on the fat of the land. We gave him a good meal, he
+wanted it, poor chap; nothing but skin and bone he was. We told him all
+about you, and where you lived, put him inside a new suit of clothes,
+clothed him in new things from head to foot, we did, so that you
+shouldn't think he disgraced you by his appearance, and gave him the
+money to come down here; and he came."
+
+"Well?"
+
+For Mrs Darcy Sutherland had paused.
+
+"Well? You think it's well, do you? Then all I can say is, I don't. Mrs
+Champion, I've come to see your husband."
+
+"He's not here."
+
+"He's not here? Then where is he?"
+
+"It is sufficient for you to be informed that he's not here."
+
+"Oh, no, it isn't; and don't you think it, my love. It's not sufficient
+by a long way. He promised to let us hear from him directly he got down
+here; we've heard nothing from that day to this, and that's some time
+ago, you know."
+
+"If that is all you have to say I'll ring the bell."
+
+"But it's not all I've got to say. Still, you can ring the bell if you
+like, it's not my bell. Though, if you take my advice, you'll hear me
+out before you do."
+
+"Go on."
+
+"Oh, I'll go on, as I told you before, don't you worry, and don't you
+try to bully me, because I'm not to be bullied, threatening me with
+your bells! Mrs Champion," the woman repeated the name with a curious
+gusto, enjoying the discomfort the sound of it occasioned the girl in
+front of her, "Mr Sutherland and me, we're not rich. Your husband
+promised to give us back that money we let him have, and since it seems
+that I can't see him I should like to see the colour of the money."
+
+"That's what you want, is it? I begin to understand. How much was it?"
+
+"Well, we'll say a thousand pounds."
+
+"A thousand pounds!"
+
+"A thousand pounds."
+
+"Do you dare to pretend that you gave him a thousand pounds?"
+
+"I don't pretend anything of the kind. I pretend nothing. What I say is
+this. If I can see Mr Robert Champion and enjoy the pleasure of a
+little chat with him I shall be content to receive back the cash we
+lent him. If I can't do that I want a thousand pounds. Don't you
+understand, my love?"
+
+Miss Arnott did understand at last. She realised that the purport of
+this woman's errand was blackmail. When comprehension burst upon her
+she was silent; she was trying to collect her thoughts, to think--a
+process which the increasing pressure of "the slings and arrows of
+outrageous fortune" made difficult. Mrs Darcy Sutherland observed her
+obvious discomposure with smiling amusement, as the proverbial child
+might observe the movements of the fly which it has impaled with a pin.
+
+Miss Arnott was saying to herself, or rather, endeavouring to say to
+herself--for her distress of mind was blurring her capacity for exact
+expression--that a thousand pounds was but a trifling sum to her, and
+that if by the expenditure of such an amount she could free herself
+from this new peril it would be money well spent. She did not stop to
+reflect, although, all the while, the idea was vaguely present in her
+mind that, by yielding to this woman's demand, she would be delivering
+herself to her body and soul. Her one feeling was the desire to get
+this woman out of the house without a scene--another scene such as she
+had had with Wilson, probably a much worse one than that. If she could
+only be relieved of the odious oppression born of her near
+neighbourhood, breathe purer air uncontaminated by this creature's
+presence, if she could only do this for a time it would be something.
+She would have a chance to look round her, to gather together her
+forces, her scattered senses. If she could only do that she might be
+more than a match for Mrs Darcy Sutherland yet. But she must have that
+chance, she must not have exposure--in its worst form--thrust upon her
+now, in her present state--she was becoming more and more conscious of
+shaky nerves--that might be more than she was able to bear. The chance
+was well worth a thousand pounds, which to her was nothing.
+
+She was all at once seized with an overwhelming longing to take instant
+advantage of the chance the woman offered her. She resolved to give her
+what she asked.
+
+"If I let you have what you want will you promise to go away
+immediately--right away?"
+
+"I'll walk out of this house without speaking a word to a creature in
+it, or to anyone out of it for the matter of that, and I'll take the
+next train back to town, if that's what you mean."
+
+"That's what I do mean. If I give you a cheque for a thousand pounds
+will that do?"
+
+"If you leave it open, and make it payable to bearer, I don't know that
+I'd mind taking it. I suppose there's money enough at the bank to meet
+it; and that you won't try to stop its being paid."
+
+"There's plenty of money to meet it, and I certainly shall not try to
+stop its being paid."
+
+"Then I'll tell you what; you give me all the ready money you have got
+in the house, and an open cheque to bearer for the balance--that'll be
+more satisfactory for both parties--then I'll take myself off as fast
+as you like."
+
+"Very well. I'll go and see what money I've got and I'll bring you a
+cheque for the rest."
+
+Miss Arnott moved towards the door, intending to perpetrate what was
+perhaps the worst folly of which she had been guilty yet. Just as she
+reached the door it opened. Mr Stacey entered, followed by a dark,
+dapper gentleman--Ernest Gilbert.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXIX
+
+                         SOME PASSAGES OF ARMS
+
+
+Mr Stacey held out both hands to her in the effusive fashion which,
+when he chose, he could manage very well.
+
+"My dear Miss Arnott, I think I'm unexpected." He was; so unexpected
+that, in the first flush of her surprise, the girl was oblivious of his
+outstretched hands. He went on, ignoring her confusion. "But I trust I
+am not unwelcome because I happen to come unheralded." Looking about
+him he noticed Mrs Sutherland. "But you are not alone. I hope that our
+unannounced entrance has not been an intrusion. May I ask you to make
+me known to your"--something caused him not to use the word which was
+already on the tip of his tongue--"to this lady."
+
+"This is Mrs Darcy Sutherland."
+
+"Mrs Darcy Sutherland?" In spite of his mellifluous tones there was
+something in the way in which he repeated the name which hardly
+suggested a compliment. "And what might Mrs Darcy Sutherland want with
+you?"
+
+Mrs Sutherland took it upon herself to answer.
+
+"Well, I never! the impudence of that! Who are you, pray? and what
+business is it of yours?"
+
+The lawyer was blandness itself.
+
+"I beg your pardon. Were you speaking to me?"
+
+"Yes, I was speaking to you, and you know I was." She turned to Miss
+Arnott. "I think, my dear, it would be better if you were to ask these
+two gentlemen to leave us alone together till you and I have finished
+our little business."
+
+"Business?" At the sound of the word Mr Stacey pricked up his ears. He
+addressed Miss Arnott. "As in all matters of business I have the honour
+to represent you, don't you think that, perhaps, you had better leave
+me to deal with this--lady in a matter of business?"
+
+The lady referred to resented the suggestion hotly.
+
+"What next, I wonder? You'll do nothing of the kind, my dear, not if I
+know it you won't. And as I'm in rather a hurry, perhaps you'll go and
+do what you said you would."
+
+Mr Stacey put to Miss Arnott a question.
+
+"What was it you said that you would do for this lady?"
+
+Again the lady showed signs of heat.
+
+"I never saw the equal of you for meddling. Don't you go poking your
+nose into other people's affairs, or you'll be sorry. If you take my
+advice, my dear, you won't tell him a single thing. I sha'n't, if you
+won't, you may trust me for that. You'll keep your own business to
+yourself, especially when it's business of such a very particular
+kind--interfering old party!"
+
+"If you take my advice, Miss Arnott, and I think you have reason to
+know that in general my advice is to be trusted, you will tell me in
+the fewest, and also in the plainest, possible words what this person
+wants with you. It is evidently something of which she is ashamed, or
+she would not be so anxious for concealment."
+
+"Don't you call me a person, because I won't have it; and don't you
+interfere in what's my business, because I won't have that either." The
+indignant Mrs Darcy Sutherland rose to her feet. "Now, look here, and
+don't let there be any mistake about it, I'm not going to have this
+impudent old man humbugging about with me, so don't let anyone think
+it. So you'll please to understand, Miss Arnott, that if you're going
+to get what you promised to get, you'd better be quick about it,
+because I've had about as much as I care to put up with. I'm not going
+to let any man trample on me, I don't care who he is, especially when I
+don't know him from Adam."
+
+"Surely there can be no objection to my putting a simple question. What
+is it you promised to get for this--lady about which she betrays so
+much anxiety?"
+
+Miss Arnott replied.
+
+"If you don't mind, I'd rather not have any bother. I've had some
+trouble already."
+
+"I know you have; it is because of that that we are here. Believe me,
+my dear young lady, you will be quite safe if you trust yourself in my
+hands."
+
+"I don't want to have any more trouble, so, as it wasn't a sum which
+was of much consequence to me, I was just going to get some money which
+Mrs Sutherland wanted when you came in."
+
+"Money?"
+
+"Yes, money!--money she owes me!--so now you know!"
+
+"Do you owe this--lady money?"
+
+"Well, it isn't exactly that I owe it, but money is owing to her, I
+believe."
+
+"How much?"
+
+"A thousand pounds."
+
+"A thousand pounds! Is it possible that you were thinking of giving
+this woman a thousand pounds?"
+
+At this point Mrs Darcy Sutherland thought proper to give her passion
+reins, with results which were hardly becoming.
+
+"Look here, don't you call me a woman, you white-headed old rooster, as
+if I wasn't a lady! I'm as much a lady as she is, and a good deal more.
+The next time you give me any more of your sauce, I'll smack your face;
+I've done it to better men than you before to-day, so don't you say
+that I didn't warn you!" She turned to Miss Arnott. "As for you--how
+much longer are you going to be tommy-rotting about? Are you going to
+give me that thousand pounds, or aren't you? You know what the
+consequences will be if you don't! Don't you think, in spite of his
+smooth tongue, that he can save you from them, because he can't, as you
+shall very soon see. Now, am I going to have that money or not?"
+
+Mr Gilbert, asserting himself for the first time, interfered.
+
+"Stacey, I should like to say a few words to Mrs Darcy Sutherland. Mrs
+Darcy Sutherland, I believe my name is not unknown to you--Ernest
+Gilbert."
+
+"Ernest Gilbert?" The woman changed countenance. "Not the Ernest
+Gilbert?"
+
+"Yes, the Ernest Gilbert. And I see you are the Mrs Darcy Sutherland;
+thank you very much. I have been favoured with instructions to proceed
+against a gang of long firm swindlers, the ringleader of whom is a man
+who calls himself Darcy Sutherland. There's a warrant out for his
+arrest, but for the moment he's slipped through our fingers. There has
+been some talk as to whether your name should be included in that
+warrant; at present, it isn't. When you leave here I'll have you
+followed. The probability is that you'll make for the man you call your
+husband. If you do so, we'll have him; if you don't, we'll have
+you--see?"
+
+On hearing this the woman flung all remnants of decency from her.
+
+"That's the time of day, is it? You think you've got me, do you? Fancy
+you've only got to snap your fingers and I'm done for? That's where
+you're wrong, as I'll soon show you. If I'm in a bit of a hole, what
+about her? Who do you think she is? What do you think she's been doing?
+I'll tell you if you don't know, and then we shall know where we
+are!--and she'll know too!--by----! she will!"
+
+Mr Ernest Gilbert glanced round towards Mr Stacey.
+
+"Take Miss Arnott out of the room."
+
+Inside thirty seconds Mr Stacey had whisked the girl out of the room
+and vanished with her. Mrs Darcy Sutherland, realising the trick which
+was being played, rushed to the door. But Mr Gilbert was there first;
+with the key turned, he stood with his back to the door and faced her.
+
+"You get away from in front of that door! What do you mean by turning
+that key? You open that door and let me out this instant!"
+
+The lawyer's reply did not breathe the spirit of conciliation.
+
+"I'll see you hung first."
+
+"Don't you speak to me like that! Who do you think you're talking to?"
+
+"To you. Now, you foul-mouthed judy, I'm going to take off the gloves
+to deal with you. I've not had the dregs of the criminal population
+pass through my hands all these years without knowing how to deal with
+a woman of your type, as I'm going to show you. What were you going to
+say to Miss Arnott?--out with it!"
+
+"Never mind what I was going to say to Miss Arnott; I'm going to say
+nothing to you; don't you think it! Who do you think you're trying to
+bounce?"
+
+"You're going to say exactly what you would have said if that young
+lady had remained in the room, or when you do go it will be in the
+charge of a policeman."
+
+"Oh, shall I? We'll see! Don't you make any mistake!"
+
+"Don't you."
+
+"You must think I'm a simple-minded innocent, to come trying to play
+your confidence tricks off on me. What do you want me to think I'll be
+in the charge of a policemen for, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Blackmail."
+
+"Blackmail! What do you mean?"
+
+"You know perfectly well what I mean. You have just been trying to
+blackmail that girl to the tune of a thousand pounds. No offence more
+severely punished. I'll have you jugged on one charge, and the
+blackguard you call your husband on another."
+
+"I wasn't trying to do anything of the sort; don't fancy you can bluff
+me! I was only telling the truth."
+
+"Makes it worse. Suppose you believed her to have committed murder, and
+said you'd out with what you knew if she didn't give you a thousand
+pounds--that would be blackmail in its most heinous form; you'd get a
+lifer as sure as you're alive. My time's valuable. Which is it going to
+be--the policeman or what you call the truth?"
+
+"If I do tell you what use will you make of it?"
+
+"No questions answered. Which is it going to be?"
+
+"If I tell you, will you let me go right straight off? No shadowing or
+anything of that kind?"
+
+"The only promise I'll make is that I won't let you go if you don't.
+Out with it!"
+
+"You're very hard on a girl! I don't know what I've done to you!"
+
+"No snivelling; put away that evil-smelling rag; I'm going to have that
+policeman."
+
+He was standing by the bell.
+
+"Don't! I'll tell you!"
+
+"Then tell!"
+
+"I don't know what it is you want me to tell you--I really don't!"
+
+"I want you to tell me what's the pull you've got, or think you've got,
+over Miss Arnott."
+
+"It's about that chap who was killed in the woods here."
+
+"What about him?"
+
+"He was her husband."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"I ought to. He was an old friend of mine, and I was her bridesmaid
+when she married him."
+
+"Why did she keep him dark?"
+
+"Well, he got into a bit of trouble."
+
+"Go on! out with it all! and don't you stammer!"
+
+"I'm not stammering, and I'm going on as fast as ever I can! I never
+saw anyone like you. He got into prison, that's what he did, and of
+course she wasn't proud of it. He only came out the morning of the day
+he came down here; my husband and me lent him the money to come with,
+and we want our money back again--we can't afford to lose it."
+
+"I see. His object in coming was blackmail--like yours. Is that all the
+pull?"
+
+"All! I should think it's enough, considering. But, as it happens, it
+isn't all."
+
+"What else is there?"
+
+"Why, she killed him."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"It stands to reason. Why didn't she let out he was her husband and
+that she knew all about him? Isn't it plain enough why? Because they
+met in the woods, and had a bit of a quarrel, and she knifed him,
+that's why. And she'll swing for it in spite of all her money. And it's
+because she knows it that she was so willing to give me that thousand
+pounds. What do you think?"
+
+"You evil-speaking, black-hearted cat! Now I'll have that policeman,
+and for what you've said to me you shall have a lifer!"
+
+He moved towards the bell.
+
+"Don't! you promised you'd let me go!"
+
+"I promised nothing of the kind, you---! I tell you what I will do.
+I'll unlock that door and let you through it. You shall have six hours'
+start, and then I'll have a warrant out for you, and if I catch you I
+promise I'll do my best to get you penal servitude for life. As we've a
+shrewd idea of your husband's whereabouts, if you take my advice you'll
+keep away from him. Now, out you go!"
+
+Unlocking the door he threw it open.
+
+"Six hours mind, honest!"
+
+"Six hours, by my watch. After that, if I can catch you I will, you can
+bet on it. Take yourself outside this house before I change my mind.
+You'd better!"
+
+Apparently Mrs Darcy Sutherland was of his opinion; she was out of the
+house with a swiftness which did credit to her agility. Almost as soon
+as she had gone Mr Stacey appeared in the doorway of the room she had
+just quitted.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXX
+
+                        MISS ARNOTT IS EXAMINED
+
+
+Mr Stacey put a question to Mr Gilbert.
+
+"Have you got rid of her?"
+
+"Very much so. Stacey, I must see Miss Arnott at once, the sooner the
+safer. I'm afraid she did it."
+
+"Do you mean that she killed that fellow in Cooper's Spinney? I don't
+believe a word of it. What's that woman been saying?"
+
+"It's not a question of belief but of fact. I'll tell you afterwards
+what she's been saying. What we want to do is to get at the truth. I
+fancy we shall do it if you let me have a few minutes' conversation
+with your young friend. If she didn't do it I'll do my level best to
+prevent a hair of her head from being injured, and if she did I may be
+able to save her. This is one of those cases in which, before I'm able
+to move, I must know just where I am standing."
+
+"You seem to have an ethical standard of your own."
+
+"A man in my line of business must have. Where's Miss Arnott?"
+
+"I'll take you to her. She's expecting you. I told her you'd like to
+have a little talk with her. But, mind this, she's anything but well,
+poor girl! I believe she's been worried half out of her mind."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"I didn't bring you down here to subject her to a hostile
+cross-examination. I won't let you do it--especially in her present
+condition."
+
+"When you've finished perhaps you'll take me to her; you don't want her
+to hang."
+
+"Hang! Gilbert! God forbid! Whatever she may have done she's only a
+child, and I'm persuaded that at heart she's as innocent as you or me."
+
+"If she isn't more innocent than I am I'm sorry for her. Will you take
+me to see this paragon of all the feminine virtues?"
+
+"You wear your cynicism like a cloak; it's not such an essential part
+as you choose to imagine."
+
+Ernest Gilbert smiled as if he would show his teeth.
+
+Mr Stacey led the way to an apartment which was called the red
+drawing-room, where already that afternoon Miss Arnott had interviewed
+Hugh Morice and Mrs Forrester. It was a pleasant, well-lighted room,
+three windows ran up one side of it almost from floor to ceiling. The
+girl was standing in front of one of these as the two men entered,
+looking out on to the Italian garden, which was a blaze of sunshine and
+of flowers. Mr Stacey crossed to her with his somewhat exuberant,
+old-fashioned courtesy.
+
+"Permit me, my dear young lady, to offer you a chair. I think you will
+find this a comfortable one. There, how is that?" She had seated
+herself, at his invitation, in a large, straight-backed armchair
+covered with a fine brocade, gold on a crimson background, whose age
+only enhanced its beauty. "As I was telling you just now, I have heard,
+to my great distress, that several things have happened recently,
+hereabouts, which could hardly tend to an increase of your comfort."
+
+"No, indeed."
+
+"Part of my information came from my very good friend here, and he will
+be your very good friend also if you will let him. Let me introduce you
+to Mr Ernest Gilbert."
+
+In acknowledgment of the introduction the girl inclined her head. Mr
+Gilbert gave his a perfunctory little shake, as if he had a stiff neck.
+
+"I am glad to meet you, Mr Gilbert. I was sorry to learn from Mr Morice
+that you have sent me back my money and refused to defend Jim Baker."
+
+Mr Stacey interposed before the other had a chance to answer.
+
+"Quite so, my dear young lady, quite so; we will come to that
+presently. Mr Gilbert came to see me this morning on that very subject.
+It is in consequence of certain communications which he then made to me
+that we are here. You instructed him, from what I understand, to defend
+this unfortunate man."
+
+"Which he at first consented, and then declined to do."
+
+This time it was Mr Gilbert who interposed, before Mr Stacey was ready
+with his reply.
+
+"Stacey, if you don't mind, I'll speak. I think it's possible that Miss
+Arnott and I may understand each other in half a dozen sentences."
+
+Mr Gilbert was leaning over the back of a chair, right in front of her.
+The girl eyed him steadily. There was a perceptible interval, during
+which neither spoke, as if each was taking the other's measure. Then
+the girl smiled, naturally, easily, as if amused by some quality which
+she discerned either in the lawyer's terrier-like countenance or in the
+keenness of his scrutiny. It was she who was the first to speak, still
+with an air of amusement.
+
+"I will try to understand you, and I should like you to understand me.
+At present I'm afraid you don't."
+
+"I'm beginning to."
+
+"Are you? That's good news."
+
+"Your nerves are strong."
+
+"I've always flattered myself that they weren't weak."
+
+"You like plain speaking."
+
+"I do--that is, when occasion requires."
+
+"This is such an occasion."
+
+"I think it is."
+
+"Then you won't mind my asking you a plain question."
+
+"Not at all."
+
+"Who killed that man in Cooper's Spinney?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"You are sure?"
+
+"Quite."
+
+"Are you aware that Jim Baker thinks you killed him?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"And that Hugh Morice thinks so also?"
+
+"I know he did think so; I fancy that now he has his doubts--at least,
+I hope he has."
+
+"How do you explain the fact of two such very different men being under
+the same erroneous impression?"
+
+"I can't explain it; I can explain nothing. I don't know if you are
+aware that until quite recently I thought it was Mr Morice himself who
+killed that man."
+
+"What made you think that?"
+
+"Two or three things, but as I am now of a different opinion it doesn't
+matter what they were."
+
+"But it does matter--it matters very much. What made you think that
+Hugh Morice killed that man?"
+
+The girl turned to Mr Stacey.
+
+"Shall I answer him? It's like this. I don't know where Mr Gilbert's
+questions may be landing me, and I don't want to have more trouble than
+I have had already--especially on this particular point."
+
+"My dear young lady, if your own conscience acquits you--and I am sure
+it does--my strongest advice to you is, tell all you have to tell. The
+more light we have thrown on the matter the better. I grieve to learn
+that the finger of scandal has been pointed at you, and that, if we are
+not very careful, very serious and disagreeable consequences may
+presently ensue. I implore you to hide nothing from us which may enable
+us to afford you more than adequate protection from any danger which
+may threaten. This may prove to be a very grave business."
+
+"I'm not afraid of what may happen to me, not one bit. Pray don't
+either of you be under any delusion on that point. What I don't want is
+to have something happen to anyone else because of me." She addressed
+Mr Gilbert. "What use will you make of any information which I may give
+you with regard to Mr Morice?"
+
+"If it will relieve your mind, Miss Arnott, and enable you to answer my
+question, let me inform you that I am sure--whatever you may suppose to
+the contrary--that Hugh Morice is not the guilty person."
+
+"Why are you sure?"
+
+"First, because I know him; and he's not that kind of man. And second,
+because in the course of a lengthy interview I had with him I should
+have perceived something to cause me to suspect his guilt, instead of
+which I was struck by his conviction of yours."
+
+"Now I also believe he is innocent--but I had reasons for my doubts;
+better ones than he had for his doubts of me."
+
+"May I ask what those reasons were?"
+
+"I was within a very short distance of where the murder was committed,
+and though I was not an actual witness, I heard. A moment afterwards I
+saw Mr Morice come running from--the place where it was done, as if for
+his life. Then--by the dead man I found the knife with which he had
+been killed. It was Mr Morice's knife; a few minutes before I had seen
+him with it in his hand."
+
+"You found Hugh Morice's knife? What did you do with it?"
+
+"It is still in my possession. You see, I thought that he was guilty,
+and--for reasons of my own--I did not wish to have the fact made
+public."
+
+"This is a curious tangle into which you have managed to get things
+between you. Have you any idea of what it is Mrs Darcy Sutherland has
+just been telling me?"
+
+"I can guess. She has probably told you that the dead man was my
+husband--Robert Champion."
+
+"Your husband! My dear young lady!"
+
+This was Mr Stacey.
+
+"Yes, my husband, who had that morning been released from gaol." Mr
+Stacey would, probably, have pursued the subject further, but with a
+gesture Mr Gilbert prevented him. The girl went on. "Mr Morice knew he
+was my husband. I thought he had killed him to save me from him; he
+thought I had done so to save myself. It is a puzzle. There is only one
+thing that seems clear."
+
+"And that is?"
+
+"That it was a woman who killed my husband."
+
+"I see what you mean. I have been trying to splice the threads. That
+person who has just been here--Mrs Darcy Sutherland--do you think it
+possible that she could have been that woman?"
+
+"I should say that it was impossible."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXXI
+
+                           THE TWO POLICEMEN
+
+
+Mr William Granger, of the County Police, was just finishing tea in his
+official residence when there came a rap at the door leading into the
+street. Mr Granger was not in the best of tempers. The county policeman
+has not quite such a rosy time as his urban colleague is apt to
+suppose. Theoretically he is never off duty; his armlet is never off
+his sleeve. It is true that he has not so much to do as his city
+brother in the way of placing law-breakers under lock and key; but then
+he has to do a deal of walking exercise. For instance, Mr Granger had a
+twelve-mile beat to go over every day of his life, hot or cold, rain or
+shine, besides various local perambulations before or after his main
+round was finished. Not infrequently he walked twenty miles a day,
+occasionally more.
+
+One would have thought that so much pedestrianism would have kept Mr
+Granger thin; he himself sincerely wished that it had had that effect.
+As a matter of fact he was the stoutest man in the village, which was
+galling. First, because he was conscious that his bulk did not tend to
+an increase of personal dignity. Second, because, when the inspector
+came from the neighbouring town, he was apt to make unpleasant remarks
+about his getting plumper every time he saw him; hinting that it was a
+very snug and easy billet for which he drew his pay; adding a hope that
+it was not because he was neglecting his duty that he was putting on
+weight so fast. Third, because when one is fat walking is apt to result
+in considerable physical discomfort, and twenty miles on a hot summer's
+day for a man under five foot ten who turns the scale at seventeen
+stone!
+
+Mr Granger, who had come back hot and tired, had scarcely flung his
+helmet into one corner of the room, and his tunic into the other, when
+his inspector entered. That inspector was fond of paying surprise
+visits; he surprised Mr Granger very much just then. The policeman had
+a bad time. His official superior more than hinted that not only had he
+cut his round unduly short on that particular day, but that he was in
+the habit of curtailing it, owing to physical incapacity. Then he took
+him for another little stroll, insisting on his accompanying him to the
+station and seeing him off in the train which took him back to
+headquarters, which entailed another walk of a good six miles--three
+there and three back--along the glaring, dusty road.
+
+By the time Mr Granger was home again he was as bad-tempered a
+policeman as you would have cared to encounter. Tea, which had been
+postponed to an unholy hour, did but little to improve either his
+temper or his spirits. He scarcely opened his mouth except to swallow
+his food and snap at his wife; and when, just as she was clearing away
+the tea-things, there came that rap at the door, there proceeded from
+his lips certain expletives which were very unbecoming to a constable,
+as his wife was not slow to point out.
+
+"William! what are you saying? I will not have you use such language in
+my presence. I should like to know what Mr Giles would say if he heard
+you."
+
+Mr Giles was the inspector with whom Mr Granger had just such an
+agreeable interview; the allusion was unfortunate.
+
+"Mr Giles be----"
+
+"William!"
+
+"Then you shouldn't exasperate me; you only do it on purpose; as if I
+hadn't enough to put up with as it is. Don't stand there trying to put
+me in a bad temper, but just open that door and see who's knocking."
+
+Possibly Mr Granger spoke in louder tones than he supposed, because
+before his helpmate could reach the door in question it was opened and
+someone put his head inside.
+
+"All right, Mr Granger, I'm sure that good lady of yours has enough to
+do without bothering about opening doors; it's only yours very truly."
+
+The newcomer spoke in a tone of voice which suggested complete
+confidence that he would be welcome; a confidence, however, which was
+by no means justified by the manner of his reception. The constable
+stared at him as if he would almost sooner have seen Inspector Giles
+again.
+
+"You! What brings you here at this time of day? I thought you were in
+London."
+
+"Ah, that's where you thought wrong. Mrs Granger, what's that you've
+got there--tea? I'm just about feeling equal to a sup of tea, if it's
+only what's left at the bottom of the pot."
+
+The speaker was a tall, loose-limbed man with a red face, and hair just
+turning grey. From his appearance he might have been a grazier, or a
+farmer, or something to do with cattle; only it happened that he was Mr
+Thomas Nunn, the detective from London who had been specially detailed
+for duty in connection with the murder in Cooper's Spinney. As Mr
+Granger had learned to associate his presence with worries of more
+kinds than one, it was small wonder--especially in the frame of mind in
+which he then was--that he did not receive him with open arms. Mr Nunn
+seemed to notice nothing, not even the doubtful glances with which Mrs
+Granger looked into her teapot.
+
+"There isn't a drop in here, and I don't know that it will bear more
+water."
+
+"Put in another half-spoonful and fill it up out of the kettle;
+anything'll do for me so long as there's plenty of it and it's moist,
+as you'd know if you saw the inside of my throat. Talk about dust!"
+
+Mr Granger was eyeing him askance.
+
+"You never come down from London. I saw the train come in, and you
+weren't in it."
+
+"No, I haven't come from London."
+
+"The last train back to London's gone--how are you going to manage?"
+
+"Well, if it does come to the pinch I thought that you might give me a
+shake-down somewhere."
+
+The policeman glanced at his wife.
+
+"I don't know about that. I ain't been paid for the last time you were
+here. They don't seem too anxious to pay your bills--your people
+don't."
+
+"That's their red tape. You'll get your money. This time, however, I'm
+going to pay for what I have down on the nail."
+
+"What's brought you? You know, Mr Nunn, this ain't an inn. My wife and
+me don't pretend to find quarters for all the members of the force."
+
+"Of course you don't. But I think you'll be interested when you hear
+what has brought me. I may be wrong, but I think you will. I've come
+from Winchester."
+
+"From Winchester?"
+
+Husband and wife both started.
+
+"Yes, from Winchester. I've been to see that chap Baker. By the way, I
+hear he's a relation of yours."
+
+"Most of the people is related hereabouts, somehow; but he's only
+distant. He's only a sort of a cousin, and I've never had much truck
+with him though I ain't saying he's not a relation. What's up with him
+now?"
+
+"He made a communication to the governor, and the governor made a
+communication to headquarters, and headquarters made a communication to
+me. In consequence of that communication I've been paying him a call."
+
+"What's the last thing he's been saying?"
+
+"Well, he's been making a confession."
+
+At this point Mrs Granger--who was lingering with the
+tea-tray--interposed.
+
+"A confession, Mr Nunn! You don't mean for to tell that after all he
+owns up 'twas he who killed he man?"
+
+"No, I can't say exactly that I do. It's not that sort of confession
+he's been making. What he's been confessing is that he knows who did
+kill him."
+
+"Who was it, Mr Nunn?"
+
+"Supposing, Mrs Granger, you were to get me that sup of tea. If you
+were to know what my throat felt like you wouldn't expect to get much
+through it till it had had a good rinsing."
+
+The constable issued his marital orders.
+
+"Now then, Susan, hurry up with that tea for Mr Nunn. What are you
+standing there gaping for? If you were to know what the dust is like
+you'd move a little quicker."
+
+Mrs Granger proceeded to hurry. Mr Nunn seated himself comfortably at
+the table and waited, showing no sign of a desire to continue the
+conversation till the tea appeared. His host dropped a hint or two,
+pointing out that to him, in his official capacity, the matter was of
+capital importance. But Mr Nunn declined to take them. When the tea did
+appear he showed more reticence than seemed altogether necessary. He
+was certainly slower in coming to the point than his hearers relished.
+Mr Granger did his best to prompt him.
+
+"Well, Mr Nunn, now that you've had three cups of tea perhaps you
+wouldn't mind mentioning what Jim Baker's been saying that's brought
+you here."
+
+Mr Nunn helped himself to a fourth.
+
+"I'm in rather a difficult position."
+
+"I daresay. It might make it easier perhaps if you were to tell me just
+what it is."
+
+"I'm not so sure, Granger, I'm not so sure. That relative of yours is a
+queer fish."
+
+"Maybe I know what sort of a fish he is better than you do, seeing I've
+known him all my life."
+
+"What I've got to ask myself is--What reliance is to be placed on what
+he says?"
+
+"Perhaps I might be able to tell you if you were to let me know what he
+does say."
+
+"Oh, that's the point." Mr Nunn stirred what remained of his fourth cup
+of tea with a meditative air. "Mr Granger, I don't want to say anything
+that sounds unfriendly or that's calculated to hurt your feelings, but
+I'm beginning to be afraid that you've muddled this case."
+
+"Me muddled it! Seeing that you've had the handling of it from the
+first, if anyone's muddled it, it's you."
+
+"I don't see how you make that out, Mr Granger, seeing that you're on
+the spot and I'm not."
+
+"What's the good of being on the spot if I'm not allowed to move a
+finger except by your instructions?"
+
+"Have there been rumours, Mr Granger? and by that I mean rumours which
+a man who had his professional advancement at heart might have laid his
+hand on."
+
+"Of course there have been rumours! there's been nothing else but
+rumours! But every time I mentioned one of them to you all I got was a
+wigging for my pains."
+
+"That's because the ones you mentioned to me were only
+will-o'-the-wisps. According to the information I've received the real
+clues you've let slip through your fingers."
+
+Mr Granger stood up. He was again uncomfortably hot. His manner was
+hardly deferential.
+
+"Excuse me, Mr Nunn, but if you've come here to lecture me while
+drinking of my wife's tea, since I've had a long and a hard day's work,
+perhaps you'll let me go and clean myself and have a bit of rest."
+
+"If there's anything in what Jim Baker says there's plenty for you to
+do, Mr Granger, before you think of resting."
+
+"What the devil does he say?"
+
+"You needn't swear at me, Mr Granger, thank you all the same. I've come
+here for the express purpose of telling you what he says."
+
+"Then you're a long time doing it."
+
+"Don't you speak to me like that, Granger, because I won't have it. I
+conduct the cases which are placed in my hands in my own way, and I
+don't want no teaching from you. Jim Baker says that although he didn't
+kill the chap himself he saw him being killed, and who it was that
+killed him."
+
+"Who does he say it was?"
+
+"Why, the young woman up at Exham Park--Miss Arnott."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXXII
+
+                          THE HOUSEMAID'S TALE
+
+
+Mr And Mrs Granger looked at each other. Then the husband dropped down
+into the chair which he had just vacated with a sound which might be
+described as a snort; it was perhaps because he was a man of such
+plethoric habit that the slightest occasion for surprise caused him to
+emit strange noises. His wife caught at the edge of the table with both
+her hands.
+
+"Lawk-a-mussy!" she exclaimed. "To think of Jim Baker saying that!"
+
+"It seems to me," observed Mr Nunn, with an air of what he perhaps
+meant to be rhadamanthine severity, "that if there's anything in what
+that chap says somebody ought to have had their suspicions before now.
+I don't say who."
+
+This with a very meaning glance at Mr Granger.
+
+"Suspicions!" cried the lady. "Why, Mr Nunn, there ain't been nothing
+but suspicions! I shouldn't think there was a soul for ten miles round
+that hasn't been suspected by someone else of having done it. You
+wouldn't have had my husband lock 'em all up! Do you believe Jim
+Baker?"
+
+"That's not the question. It's evidence I want, and it's for evidence,
+Mr Granger, I've come to you."
+
+"Evidence of what?" gasped the policeman. "I don't know if you think I
+keep evidence on tap as if it was beer. All the evidence I have you've
+got--and more."
+
+His wife persisted in her inquiry.
+
+"What I ask you, Mr Nunn, is--Are you going to lock up that young lady
+because of what Jim Baker says?"
+
+"And I repeat, Mrs Granger, that that's not the question, though you
+must allow me to remark, ma'am, that I don't see what is your _locus
+standi_ in the matter."
+
+"Aren't you drinking my tea?"
+
+"I don't see what my drinking your tea has got to do with it anyhow. At
+the same time, since it'll all soon enough be public property, I don't
+know that it's of much consequence. Of course a man hasn't been at the
+game all the years I have without becoming aware that nothing's more
+common than for A, when he's accused of a crime, to try to lay the
+blame of it on B; and that, therefore, if for that reason only, what
+that chap in Winchester Gaol says smells fishy. But at the same time
+the statement he has made is of such a specific nature, and should be
+so open to corroboration, or the reverse, that I'm bound to admit that
+if anything did turn up to give it colour I should feel it my duty to
+act on it at once."
+
+"Do you mean that you'd have her arrested?"
+
+"I do--that is if, as I say, I obtain anything in the nature of
+corroborative evidence, and for that I look to Mr Granger."
+
+There was no necessity for him to do that, fortunately for the peace of
+mind and body of the active and intelligent officer referred to.
+Evidence of the kind of which he spoke was coming from an altogether
+different quarter. Indeed, it was already at the door.
+
+Hardly had he done speaking than a modest tap was heard. Opening, Mrs
+Granger found a small urchin standing in the dusk without, who slipped
+an envelope into her hand, with which she returned into the room,
+peering at the address.
+
+"What's this? 'To the Policeman.' I suppose, William, that means you;
+it's only some rubbish, I suppose."
+
+She passed the envelope to her husband, who peered at the address as
+she had done.
+
+"Let's have the lamp, Susan, you can't see to read in this here light.
+Not that I suppose it's anything worth reading, but mine ain't cat's
+eyes anyhow."
+
+The lamp was lit and placed upon the table. Mr Granger studied what was
+written on the sheet of paper which he took from the envelope.
+
+
+"Robert Champion was the name of the man who was murdered in the wood.
+The mistress of Exham Park, who calls herself Miss Arnott, was his
+wife. He came out of Wandsworth Prison to see her. And he saw her.
+
+"Ask her why she said nothing about it.
+
+"Then the whole truth will come out."
+
+
+Mr Granger read this once, twice, thrice, while his wife and Mr Nunn
+were watching him. Then he scratched his head.
+
+"This is rummy--uncommon. Here, you take and look at it, it's beyond me
+altogether."
+
+He handed the sheet of paper to Mr Nunn, who mastered its contents at a
+glance. Then he addressed a question to Mrs Granger, shortly, sharply.
+
+"Who gave you this?"
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Never mind what it is, woman! Answer my question--who gave it you?"
+
+"It's no use your speaking to me like that, Mr Nunn, and so I'd have
+you know. I'm no servant of yours! Some child slipped it into my hand,
+but what with the bad light and the flurry I was in because of what
+you'd been saying, I didn't notice what child no more than nothing at
+all."
+
+Mr Nunn seemed disturbed.
+
+"It'll be a serious thing for you, Mrs Granger, if you're not able to
+recognise who gave you this. You say it was a child? There can't be so
+many children in the place. I'll find out which of them it was if I
+have to interview every one in the parish. It can't have got so far
+away; perhaps it's still waiting outside."
+
+As he moved towards the entrance, with a view of finding out if the
+bearer of that singular communication was still loitering in the
+immediate neighbourhood, he became conscious that someone was
+approaching from without--more than one. While he already had the
+handle in his grasp it was turned with a certain degree of violence by
+someone on the other side; the door was thrown open, and he found
+himself confronted by what, in the gathering darkness, seemed quite a
+crowd of persons.
+
+"Is William Granger in?" demanded a feminine voice in not the most
+placable of tones. Mr Nunn replied,--
+
+"Mr Granger is in. Who are you, and what do you want with him?"
+
+"I'm his sister, Elizabeth Wilson, that's who I am, and I should like
+to know who you are to ask me such a thing. And as for what I want, I
+want justice; me and my daughter, Sarah Ann, we both want justice--and
+I'm going to see I get it too. My own cousin, Jim Baker, he's in prison
+this moment for what he never did, and I'm going to see that he's let
+out of prison double quick and the party as ought to be in prison put
+there. So you stand out of the way and let me get inside this house to
+see my brother."
+
+Mr Nunn did as he was requested, and Mrs Wilson entered, accompanied by
+her daughter, Sarah Ann. He looked at the assemblage without.
+
+"Who are all these people?"
+
+"They're my friends, that's who they are. They know all about it, and
+they've come to see that I have fair play, and they'll see that I have
+it too, and so I'd have everyone to understand."
+
+By way of commentary Mr Nunn shut the door upon the "friends" and stood
+with his back to it.
+
+"Now then, Granger, who's this woman? And what's she talking about?"
+
+Mrs Wilson answered for her brother.
+
+"Don't you call me a woman, as if I was the dirt under your feet. And
+as for who I am--William, who's this man? He's taking some fine airs on
+himself. As what I have to say to you I don't want to have to say
+before strangers, perhaps you'll just ask him to take himself outside."
+
+"Now, Liz," observed her brother, fraternally, "don't you be no more
+silly than you can help. This gentleman's Mr Nunn, what's in charge of
+the case--you know what case. He saw Jim Baker in Winchester Gaol only
+this afternoon."
+
+"In Winchester Gaol, did he! Then more shame to them as put him in
+Winchester Gaol, and him as innocent as the babe unborn! And with them
+as did ought to be there flaunting about in all them fine feathers, and
+with all their airs and graces, as if they were so many peacocks!"
+
+"What might you happen to be talking about?"
+
+"I'm talking about what I know, that's what I happen to be talking
+about, William Granger, and so you'll soon learn. I know who ought to
+be there instead of him, and if you've a drop of cousinly blood in your
+veins you'll see that he's out of that vile place, where none of my
+kith or kin ever was before, and that you know, the first thing
+to-morrow morning."
+
+"Oh, you know who did ought to be there, do you? This is news, this is.
+Perhaps you'll mention that party's name. Only let me warn you,
+Elizabeth Wilson, to be careful what you say, or you may find yourself
+in worse trouble than you quite like."
+
+"I'll be careful what I say, I don't need you to tell me, William
+Granger! And I'll tell you who ought to be in Winchester Gaol instead
+of Jim Baker--why, that there proud, stuck-up young peacock over at
+Exham Park, that there Miss Arnott!"
+
+"Liz! I've told you already not to be more silly than you can help.
+What do you know about Miss Arnott?"
+
+"What do I know about Miss Arnott? I'll soon tell you what I know about
+your fine Miss Arnott. Sarah Ann, tell your uncle what you know about
+that there Miss Arnott."
+
+Then the tale was unfolded--by Wilson the housemaid--by degrees, with
+many repetitions, in somewhat garbled form; still, the essential truth,
+so far as she knew it, was there.
+
+She told how, that eventful Saturday, the young mistress had been out
+in the woods, as she put it, "till goodness only knows what hours of
+the night." How, the next morning, the key of the wardrobe drawer was
+lost; how, after many days, she, Wilson, had found it in the hem of her
+own skirt, how she had tried the lock, "just to see if it really was
+the key," of what the drawer contained--the stained clothing, the
+bloody knife. She narrated, with dramatic force, how first Evans and
+then Miss Arnott had come upon the scene, how the knife and the
+camisole had been wrested from her, how she herself had been ejected
+from the house.
+
+When she had finished Mr Nunn looked up from the pocket-book in which
+he had been making copious notes of the words as they came from her
+lips.
+
+"What you've said, Sarah Ann Wilson, you've said of your own free
+will?"
+
+"Of course I have. Haven't I come here on purpose?"
+
+"And you're prepared to repeat your statement in a court of law, and
+swear to its truth?"
+
+"I am. I'll swear to it anywhere."
+
+"You don't know what has become of that knife you've mentioned?"
+
+"Haven't I told you that she took it from me?--she and Mrs Evans
+between them."
+
+"Yes; just so. Well, Mr Granger, all that I want now is a warrant for
+the arrest of this young lady. And, at the same time, we'll search the
+house. We'll find the knife of which this young woman speaks, if it's
+to be found; only we mustn't let her have any longer time than we can
+help to enable her to get rid of it, which, from all appearances, is
+the first thing she'll try to do. So perhaps you'll be so good as to
+tell me where I shall be likely to find the nearest magistrate--now, at
+once."
+
+"I am a magistrate. What is there I can do for you, Mr Nunn?"
+
+Looking round to see from whom the unexpected answer came, they saw
+that Mr Hugh Morice was standing in the open doorway. Closing the door
+behind him he came into the room.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+                         ON HIS OWN CONFESSION
+
+
+Hugh Morice had been resorting to that medicine--in whose
+qualifications to minister to a mind diseased he more than half
+believed--a ride upon his motor car. Of late he had found nothing to
+clear the cobwebs from his brain so effectually as a whiz through the
+air. That afternoon, after he had left Exham Park, he had felt that his
+brain stood very much in need of a clearance. So he had gone for a long
+run on his car.
+
+He was returning through the shadows, partially cured, when he found
+what, in that part of the world, might be described as a crowd,
+obstructing his passage through the village street. Stopping to inquire
+what was the cause of the unusual concourse, he realised that the crowd
+was loitering in front of Granger's cottage--the local stronghold of
+the County Police. As he did so he was conscious that a shiver passed
+all over him, which he was able neither to account for nor to control.
+The answers, however, which the villagers gave to his hurried
+questions, threw a lurid light upon the matter, and inspired him, on
+the instant, with a great resolve. Dismounting, he entered the cottage,
+just as Mr Nunn was addressing his remarks to Mr Granger. As he heard
+he understood that, if what he proposed to do was to be of the
+slightest effect, he had arrived in the very nick of time.
+
+They, on their part, stared at him half bewildered, half amazed. He had
+on a long motor coat which shrouded him from head to foot; a cap which
+covered not only his ears but also part of his face; while his disguise
+was completed by a pair of huge goggles. It was only when he removed
+these latter that--in spite of the dust which enveloped him as flour
+over a miller--they recognised who he was. He repeated his own words in
+a slightly different form.
+
+"You were saying, Mr Nunn, that you were requiring the services of a
+magistrate. How can I serve you in that capacity?"
+
+The detective stared at the gigantic figure, towering over his own by
+no means insignificant inches, still in doubt as to who he was.
+
+"I ought to know you; but, somehow, I don't feel as if I can place you
+exactly, sir."
+
+Mr Morice smiled.
+
+"Tell him, Granger, who I am."
+
+Mr Granger explained.
+
+"This is Mr Hugh Morice, of Oak Dene, Justice of the Peace for this
+division of the county. You can't have forgotten him, Mr Nunn; he used
+to be present at the coroner's inquest."
+
+"Of course; now that Granger reminds me I remember you very well, Mr
+Morice. You have arrived at a fortunate moment for me, sir. I was just
+about to start off in search of a magistrate, and that, in the country,
+at this time of night, sometimes means a long job. I wish to lay an
+information before you, sir, and ask for a warrant."
+
+Mr Morice glanced at the three women.
+
+"In presence of these persons?"
+
+"I don't know that Mrs Granger need stop, or Mrs Wilson either. Mrs
+Granger, you'd better take Mrs Wilson with you. It is partly in
+consequence of a statement which this young woman has just been making
+that I ask you for a warrant. Now, Mrs Wilson, off you go."
+
+But Mrs Wilson showed reluctance.
+
+"I don't know why I'm to be sent away--especially as it's my own
+daughter--"
+
+Hugh Morice cut her short brusquely,--
+
+"Leave the room!"
+
+Mrs Wilson showed him something of that deference which she had
+hitherto declined to show to anyone else. Mrs Granger touched her on
+the shoulder.
+
+"I'm coming! I'm sure, Susan Granger, there's no need for you to show
+me. No one can ever say I stop where I am not wanted."
+
+When the two elder women had disappeared, Hugh Morice turned his
+attention to Wilson the housemaid.
+
+"Who is this young person?"
+
+Mr Nunn informed him. Her story was gone through again. When she had
+finished Mr Morice dismissed her to join her mother and her aunt.
+
+"Now, Mr Nunn, what do you want from me?"
+
+"A warrant for the arrest of Violet Arnott, of Exham Park."
+
+"On what charge?"
+
+"Wilful murder--the murder of Robert Champion."
+
+"Of whom?"
+
+"I said Robert Champion; but as it's not yet proved that was his name
+we'd better have it in the warrant--name unknown. I may say, Mr Morice,
+that that girl's statement is not all I'm going on. Within the hour
+I've received this anonymous communication."
+
+He handed the communication in question to Mr Morice, who turned it
+over and over between his fingers.
+
+"Where did you get this from?"
+
+"I can't tell you just at the moment; but I daresay I shall be able to
+tell you before very long. Of course it's anonymous; but, at the same
+time, it's suggestive. Also a statement was made to me, of the most
+positive and specific kind, by James Baker, at present a prisoner in
+Winchester Gaol. Altogether I'm afraid, Mr Morice, that the case
+against this young woman is looking very black."
+
+"Are you in the habit, Mr Nunn, of making _ex officio_ statements of
+that kind on occasions such as the present? If so, let me invite you
+to break yourself of it. A man of your experience ought to know
+better--very much better, Mr Nunn. I regret that I am unable to do
+what you require."
+
+Mr Nunn stared; possibly slightly abashed by the rebuke which had been
+administered to him in the presence of Mr Granger.
+
+"But, sir, begging your pardon, you've no option in the matter."
+
+"Haven't I? You'll find I have--a very wide option. I shall decline to
+allow a warrant to be issued for the arrest of the lady you have
+named."
+
+"But, Mr Morice, sir, on what grounds?"
+
+"Very simple ones. Because I happen to know she's innocent."
+
+"But that's no reason!"
+
+"You'll find it is, since I also happen to know who's guilty."
+
+"You know who's guilty? Mr Morice!"
+
+"Precisely--Mr Morice. It is I who am guilty. Mr Nunn, I surrender
+myself into your custody as having been guilty of killing a certain man
+on a certain Saturday night in Cooper's Spinney. Is that in proper
+form?"
+
+"Are you serious, sir?"
+
+"I mean what I say, if that's what you are asking, Mr Nunn."
+
+"Then what about the tale that girl was telling, and that knife she
+saw?"
+
+"That knife is mine."
+
+"Yours!"
+
+"Exactly, and I'm afraid that knife is going to hang me."
+
+"How came it in Miss Arnott's possession?"
+
+"That's the simplest part of the whole affair. After I had used it she
+found it, and has kept it ever since."
+
+"Do you mean that she's been screening you?"
+
+"Something like it. That is, I don't know that she was sure of
+anything; but, I fancy, she has had her doubts. I daresay she'll tell
+you all about it if you ask her. You see, Mr Nunn, I've been in rather
+an awkward position. So long as it was only a question of Jim Baker it
+didn't so much matter; it's quite on the cards that in the course of
+his sinful career he's done plenty of things for which he deserves to
+be hung. When it comes to Miss Arnott, knowing that she knows what she
+does know, and especially that she has that accursed knife of mine,
+that's a horse of a different colour. Since she has only to open her
+mouth to make an end of me, I may as well make as graceful an exit as
+possible, and own the game is up. I don't quite know what is the usual
+course in a matter of this sort, Mr Nunn. My motor is outside. If it is
+possible I should like to run over to my house. You may come with me,
+if you please, and Mr Granger also. There are one or two trifles which
+require my personal attention, and then you may do with me as you
+please. In fact, if you could manage to let me have an hour or two I
+should be happy to place at your disposal quite a little fortune, Mr
+Nunn and Mr Granger."
+
+"You ought to know better than to talk to me like that, Mr Morice.
+After what you've just now said it's my duty to tell you that you're my
+prisoner."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+                           MR DAY WALKS HOME
+
+
+It chanced that night that Mr Day, the highly respected butler at Exham
+Park, paid a visit to a friend. It was rather late when he returned.
+The friend offered to put him into a trap and drive him home, but Mr
+Day declined.
+
+"It's a fine night," he observed, "and a walk will do me good. I don't
+get enough exercise out of doors. I like to take advantage of any that
+comes my way. I'm not so young as I was--we none of us are; but a
+five-mile walk won't do me any harm. On a night like this I'll enjoy it.
+Thank you, Hardy, all the same."
+
+So he walked.
+
+It was just after eleven when he reached the village. Considering the
+hour he was surprised to find how many people there were about. Mr
+Jenkins had just turned his customers out of the "Rose and Crown." A
+roaring trade he seemed to have been doing. A couple of dozen people
+were gathered together in clusters in front of the inn, exchanging
+final greetings before departing homewards. For the most part they were
+talking together at the top of their voices, as yokels on such
+occasions have a trick of doing. Mr Day stopped to speak to a man, with
+whom he had some acquaintance, in the drily sarcastic fashion for which
+he was locally famed.
+
+"What's the excitement? Parish pump got burned?"
+
+"Why, Mr Day, haven't you heard the news?"
+
+"That Saturday comes before Sunday? Haven't heard anything newer."
+
+"Why, Mr Day, don't you know that Sarah Ann Wilson, from up at your
+place, has been over to Granger's, trying to get him to give her a
+warrant for your young lady?"
+
+"There's several kinds of fools about, but Sarah Ann Wilson's all kinds
+of them together."
+
+"So it seems that Granger thinks. Anyhow he ain't given it her. He's
+locked up Mr Morice instead."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+Another man chimed in.
+
+"Why, Mr Day, where are you been not to have heard that they've locked
+up Mr Morice for murdering o' that there chap in Cooper's Spinney."
+
+"What nonsense are you men talking about?"
+
+"It ain't nonsense, Mr Day; no, that it ain't. You go over to Granger's
+and you'll soon hear."
+
+"Who locked him up?"
+
+"Granger and Mr Nunn, that's the detective over from London. They
+locked him up between them. It seems he gave himself up."
+
+"Gave himself up?"
+
+"So Mrs Wilson and her daughter says. They was in the kitchen, at the
+other side of the door, and they heard him giving of himself up. Seems
+as how they're going to take him over to Doverham in the morning and
+bring him before the magistrates. My word! won't all the countryside be
+there to see! To think of its having been Mr Morice after all. Me, I
+never shouldn't have believed it, if he hadn't let it out himself."
+
+Mr Day waited to hear no more. Making his way through the little crowd
+he strode on alone. That moon-lit walk was spoilt for him. As he went
+some curious reflections were taking shape in his mind.
+
+"That finishes it. Now something will have to be done. I wish I'd done
+as I said I would, and taken myself off long ago. And yet I don't know
+that I should have been any more comfortable if I had. Wherever I might
+have gone I should have been on tenterhooks. If I'd been on the other
+side of the world and heard of this about Mr Morice, I should have had
+to come back and make a clean breast of it. Yet it's hard on me at my
+time of life!" He sighed, striking at the ground with the ferule of his
+stick. "All my days I've made it my special care to have nothing to do
+with the police-courts. I've seen too much trouble come of it to
+everyone concerned, and never any good, and now to be dragged into a
+thing like this. And all through her! If, after all, I've got to speak,
+I don't know that I wouldn't rather have spoken at first. It would have
+been better perhaps; it would have saved a lot of bother, not to speak
+of all the worry I've had. I feel sure it's aged me. I could see by the
+way Mrs Hardy looked at me to-night that she thought I was looking
+older. Goodness knows that I'm getting old fast enough in the ordinary
+course of nature." Again sighing, he struck at the ground with his
+stick. "It would have served her right if I had spoken--anything would
+have served her right. She's a nice sort, she is. And yet I don't know,
+poor devil! She's not happy, that's sure and certain. I never saw
+anyone so changed. What beats me is that no one seems to have noticed,
+except me. I don't like to look her way: it's written so plain all over
+her. It just shows how people can have eyes in their heads, and yet not
+use them. From the remarks I've heard exchanged, I don't believe a
+creature has noticed anything, yet I daresay if you were to ask them
+they'd tell you they always notice everything. Blind worms!"
+
+Perhaps for the purpose of relieving his feelings Mr Day stood still in
+the centre of the road, tucked his stick under his arm, took out his
+pipe, loaded it with tobacco and proceeded to smoke. Having got his
+pipe into going order he continued his way and his reflections.
+
+"I knew it was her from the first; never doubted for a moment. Directly
+I saw her come into the house that night in the way she did, I knew
+that she'd been up to something queer, and it wasn't very long before I
+knew what it was. And I don't know that I was surprised when I heard
+how bad it really was. All I wanted was to get out of the way before I
+was dragged into the trouble that I saw was coming. If I hadn't known
+from the first I should have found out afterwards. She's given herself
+away a hundred times--ah, and more. If I'd been a detective put upon
+the job I should have had her over and over again, unless I'd been as
+stupid as some of those detectives do seem to be. Look at that Nunn
+now! There's a precious fool! Locking up Mr Morice! I wonder he doesn't
+lock himself up! Bah!"
+
+This time Mr Day took his pipe out of his mouth with one hand, while he
+struck at the vacant air with the stick in the other. Perhaps in
+imagination he was striking at Mr Nunn.
+
+"Poor devil! it must have been something pretty strong which made her
+do a thing like that. I wonder who that chap was, and what he'd done to
+her. Not that I want to know--the less I know the better. I know too
+much as it is. I know that she's haunted, that never since has she had
+a moment's peace of mind, either by day or night. I've the best of
+reasons for knowing that she starts pretty nearly out of her skin at
+every shadow. I shouldn't be surprised to hear at any moment that she's
+committed suicide. I lay a thousand pounds to a penny that if I was to
+touch her on the shoulder with the tip of my finger, and say, 'You
+killed that man in the Cooper's Spinney, and he's looking over your
+shoulder now,' she'd tumble straight off into a heap on the floor and
+scream for mercy--What's that?"
+
+He had reached a very lonely part of the road. The Exham Park woods
+were on either side of him. A long line of giant beeches bordered the
+road both on the right and left. Beyond again, on both sides, were
+acres of pines. A charming spot on a summer's day; but, to some minds,
+just then a little too much in shadow to be altogether pleasant. The
+high beeches on his left obscured the moon. Here and there it found a
+passage between their leaves; but for the most part the road was all in
+darkness. Mr Day was well on in years, but his hearing was as keen as
+ever, and his nerves as well under control. The ordinary wayfarer would
+have heard nothing, or, not relishing his surroundings, would have
+preferred to hear nothing, till he had reached a point where the moon's
+illumination was again plainly visible. It is odd how many persons,
+born and bred in the heart of the country, object strenuously to be out
+among the scenes they know so well, alone in the darkness at night.
+
+But the Exham Park butler was not a person of that kidney. When he
+heard twigs snapping and the swishing of brushwood, as of someone
+passing quickly through it, he was immediately desirous of learning
+what might be the cause of such unwonted midnight sounds. Slipping his
+pipe into his pocket he moved both rapidly and quietly towards the side
+of the road from which the sounds proceeded. Just there the long line
+of hedge was momentarily interrupted by a stile. Leaning over it he
+peered as best he could into the glancing lights and shadows among the
+pines. The sounds continued.
+
+"Who is it? Hullo! Good lord! it's her!"
+
+As he spoke to himself a figure suddenly appeared in a shaft of
+moonlight which had found its way along an alley of pines--the figure
+of a woman. She was clad in white--in some long, flowing garment which
+trailed behind her as she went, and which must have seriously impeded
+her progress, especially in view of the fact that she seemed to be
+pressing forward at the top of her speed. The keen-eyed observer
+watched her as she went.
+
+"What's she got on? It's a tea-gown or a dressing-gown or something of
+that. It's strange to me. I've never seen her in it before. So, after
+all, there is something in the tales those gowks have been telling, and
+she does walk the woods of nights. But she can't be asleep; she
+couldn't go at that rate, through country of this sort, if she were,
+and with all that drapery trailing out behind her. But asleep or not
+I'll tackle her and have it out with her once and for all."
+
+Mr Day climbed over the stile with an agility which did credit to his
+years. As he reached the other side the woman in the distance either
+became conscious of his presence and his malevolent designs or fortune
+favoured her; because, coming to a part of the forest from which the
+moon was barred, she suddenly vanished from his vision like a figure in
+a shadow pantomime. When he gained the spot at which she had last been
+visible, there was still nothing of her to be seen, but he fancied that
+he caught a sound which suggested that, not very far away, someone was
+pressing forward among the trees.
+
+"She did that very neatly. Don't talk to me about her being asleep. She
+both heard and saw me coming, so she's given me the slip. But she's not
+done it so completely as she perhaps thinks. I'll have her yet. I'll
+show her that I'm pretty nearly as good at trapesing through the woods
+at night as she is. I don't want to be hard on a woman, and I wouldn't
+be if it could be helped, but when it comes to be a question of Mr
+Morice or her, it'll have to be her, and that's all about it. I don't
+mean to let her go scot-free at his expense--not much, I don't, as I'll
+soon show her!"
+
+He plunged into the pitch blackness of the forest, towards where he
+fancied he had heard a sound in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XXXV
+
+                         IN THE LADY'S CHAMBER
+
+
+Miss Arnott was restless. She had to entertain her two self-invited
+guests--Mr Stacey and Mr Gilbert, and she was conscious that while she
+was entertaining them, each, in his own fashion, was examining her
+still. It was a curious dinner which they had together, their hostess
+feeling, rightly or wrongly, that the most dire significance was being
+read into the most commonplace remarks. If she smiled, she feared they
+might think her laughter forced; if she was grave, she was convinced
+that they were of opinion that it was because she had something
+frightful on her mind. Mr Stacey made occasional attempts to lighten
+the atmosphere, but, at the best of times, his touch was inclined to be
+a heavy one; then all his little outbursts of gaiety--or what he meant
+for gaiety--seemed to be weighted with lead. Mr Gilbert was frankly
+saturnine. He seemed determined to say as little as he possibly could,
+and to wing every word he did utter with a shaft of malice or of irony.
+Especially was he severe on Mr Stacey's spasmodic efforts at the
+promotion of geniality.
+
+Miss Arnott arrived at two conclusions; one being that he didn't like
+her, and the other that she didn't like him. How correct she was in the
+first instance may be judged from some remarks which were exchanged
+when--after the old fashion--she had left them alone together to enjoy
+a cigarette over their cups of coffee, the truth being that she felt
+she must be relieved from the burden of their society for, at anyrate,
+some minutes.
+
+Mr Stacey commenced by looking at his companion as if he were
+half-doubtful, half-amused.
+
+"Gilbert, you don't seem disposed to be talkative."
+
+The reply was curt and to the point.
+
+"I'm not."
+
+"Nor, if you will forgive my saying so, do you seem inclined to make
+yourself peculiarly agreeable to our hostess."
+
+Mr Gilbert surveyed the ash which was on the tip of his cigar. His
+words were pregnant with meaning.
+
+"Stacey, I can't stand women."
+
+With Mr Stacey amusement was getting the upper hand.
+
+"Does that apply to women in general or to this one in particular?"
+
+"Yes to both your questions. I don't wish to be rude to your ward or to
+my hostess, but the girl's a fool."
+
+"Gilbert!"
+
+"So she is, like the other representatives of her sex. She's another
+illustration of the eternal truth that a woman can't walk alone; she
+can't. In consequence she's got herself into the infernal muddle she
+has done. The first male who, so to speak, got within reach of her,
+took her by the scruff of the neck, and made her keep step with him. He
+happened to be a scamp, so there's all this to do. It constantly is
+like that. Most women are like mirrors--mere surfaces on which to
+reflect their owners; and when their owners take it into their heads to
+smash the mirrors, why, they're smashed. When I think of what an ass
+this young woman has made of herself and others, merely because she's a
+woman, and therefore couldn't help it, something sticks in my throat. I
+can't be civil to her; it's no use trying. I want to get in touch with
+something vertebrate: I can't stand molluscs."
+
+Under the circumstances it was not strange that matters in the
+drawing-room were no more lively than they had been at dinner. So Miss
+Arnott excused herself at what she considered to be the earliest possible
+moment and went to bed.
+
+At least she went as far as her bedroom. She found Evans awaiting her.
+A bed was made up close to her own, all arrangements were arranged to
+keep watch and ward over her through the night.
+
+"Evans," she announced, "I've come to bed."
+
+"Have you, miss? It's early--that is, for you."
+
+"If you'd spent the sort of evening I have you'd have come early to
+bed. Evans, I want to tell you something."
+
+"Yes, miss; what might it be?"
+
+"Don't you ever take it for granted that, because a man's clever at one
+thing, he's clever, or the least bit of good, at anything else."
+
+"I'm afraid, miss, that I don't understand."
+
+"Then I'll make you understand, before I've done with you; you're not
+stupid. I feel that before I even try to close my eyes I must talk to
+some rational being, so I'll talk to you."
+
+"Thank you, miss."
+
+"There's a Mr Gilbert downstairs."
+
+"Yes, miss, I've heard of him."
+
+"He's supposed to be a famous criminal lawyer; perhaps you've heard
+that too. I'm told that he's the cleverest living, and, I daresay, he's
+smart enough in his own line. But out of it--such clumsiness, such
+stupidity, such conceit, such manners--oh, Evans! I once heard a
+specialist compared to a dog which is kept chained to its kennel;
+within the limits of its chain that dog has an amazing knowledge of the
+world. I suppose Mr Gilbert is a specialist. He knows everything within
+the limits of his chain. But, though he mayn't be aware of it--and he
+isn't--his chain is there! And now, Evans, having told you what I
+wished to tell you, I'm going to bed."
+
+But Miss Arnott did not go to bed just then. She seemed unusually wide
+awake. It was obvious that, if any sound data were to be obtained on
+the subject of her alleged somnambulistic habits, it was necessary,
+first of all, that she should go to sleep; but it would not be much
+good her getting into bed if she felt indisposed for slumber.
+
+"The only thing, Evans, of which I'm afraid is that, if we're not
+careful, you'll fall asleep first, and that then, so soon as you're
+asleep, I shall start off walking through the woods. It'll make both of
+us look so silly if I do."
+
+"No fear of that, miss. I can keep awake as long as anyone, and when I
+am asleep the fall of a feather is enough to wake me."
+
+"The fall of a feather? Evans! I don't believe you could hear a feather
+falling, even if you were wide awake."
+
+"Well, miss, you know what I mean. I mean that I'm a light sleeper. I
+shall lock the doors when we're both of us in bed, and I shall put the
+keys underneath my pillow. No one will take those keys from under my
+pillow without my knowing it, I promise you that, no matter how
+light-fingered they may be."
+
+"I see. I'm to be a prisoner. It doesn't sound quite nice; but I
+suppose I'll have to put up with it. If you were to catch me walking in
+my sleep how dreadful it would be."
+
+"I sha'n't do it. I don't believe you ever have walked in your sleep,
+and I don't believe you ever will."
+
+Later it was arranged that the young lady should undress, take a book
+with her to bed, and try to read herself to sleep. Then it became a
+question of the book.
+
+"I know the very book that would be bound to send me to sleep in a
+couple of ticks, even in the middle of the day. I've tested its
+soporific powers already. Three times I've tried to get through the
+first chapter, and each time I've been asleep before I reached the end.
+It is a book! I bought it a week or two ago. I don't know why. I wasn't
+in want of a sleeping powder then. Where did I put it? Oh, I remember;
+I lent it to Mrs Plummer. She seemed to want something to doze over, so
+I suggested that would be just the thing. Evans, do you think Mrs
+Plummer is asleep yet?"
+
+"I don't know, miss. I believe she's pretty late. I'll go and see."
+
+"No, I'll go and see. Then I can explain to her what it is I want, and
+just what I want it for. You stay here; I sha'n't be a minute."
+
+Miss Arnott went up to Mrs Plummer's bedroom. It was called the
+tower-room. On one side of the house--which was an architectural
+freak--was an eight-sided tower. Although built into the main building
+it rose high above it. Near the top was a clock with three faces. On the
+roof was a flagstaff which served to inform the neighbourhood if the
+family was or was not at home.
+
+Miss Arnott was wont to declare that the tower-rooms were the
+pleasantest in the house. In proof of it the one which she had selected
+to be her own special apartment lay immediately under that in which Mrs
+Plummer slept. It had two separate approaches. The corridor in which
+was Miss Arnott's sleeping-chamber had, at one end--the one farthest
+from her--a short flight of stairs which ascended to a landing on to
+which opened one of Mrs Plummer's bedroom doors. On the opposite side
+of the room was another door which gave access to what was, to all
+intents and purposes, a service staircase. Miss Arnott, passing along
+the corridor and up the eight or nine steps, rapped at the panel once,
+twice, and then again. As still no one answered she tried the handle,
+thinking that if it was locked the probabilities were that Mrs Plummer
+was in bed and fast asleep. But, instead of being locked, it opened
+readily at her touch. The fact that the electric lights were all on
+seemed to suggest that, at anyrate, the lady was not asleep in bed.
+
+"Mrs Plummer!" she exclaimed, standing in the partly opened doorway.
+
+No reply. Opening the door wider she entered the room. It was empty.
+But there was that about the appearance of the chamber which conveyed
+the impression that quite recently, within the last two or three
+minutes, it had had an occupant. Clothes were thrown down anywhere, as
+if their wearer had doffed them in a hurry. Miss Arnott, who had had a
+notion that Mrs Plummer was the soul of neatness, was surprised and
+even tickled by the evidence of untidiness which met her on every hand.
+Not only were articles of wearing apparel scattered everywhere, but the
+whole apartment was in a state of odd disarray; at one part the carpet
+was turned quite back. As she looked about her, Miss Arnott smiled.
+
+"What can Mrs Plummer have been doing? She appears to have been
+preparing for a flitting. And where can she be? She seems to have
+undressed. Those are her clothes, and there's the dress she wore at
+dinner. She can't be in such a state of _deshabille_ as those things
+seem to suggest; and yet--I don't think I'll wait till she comes back.
+I wonder if she's left that book lying about. If I can find it I'll
+sneak off at once, and tell her all about it in the morning."
+
+On a table in the centre was piled up a heterogeneous and disorderly
+collection of odds and ends. Miss Arnott glanced at it to see if among
+the miscellanea was the volume she was seeking. She saw that a book
+which looked like it was lying underneath what seemed to be a number of
+old letters. She picked it up, removing the letters to enable her to do
+so. One or two of the papers fell on to the floor. She stooped to pick
+them up. The first was a photograph. Her eyes lighted on it, half
+unwittingly; but, having lighted on it, they stayed.
+
+The room seemed all at once to be turning round her. She was conscious
+of a sense of vertigo, as if suddenly something had happened to her
+brain. For some seconds she was obsessed by a conviction that she was
+the victim of an optical delusion, that what she supposed herself to
+see was, in reality, a phantom of her imagination. How long this
+condition continued she never knew. But it was only after a perceptible
+interval of time that she began to comprehend that she deluded herself
+by supposing herself to be under a delusion, that what she had only
+imagined she saw, she actually did see. It was the sudden shock which
+had caused that feeling of curious confusion. The thing was plain
+enough.
+
+She was holding in her hand the photograph of her husband--Robert
+Champion. The more she looked at it the stronger the conviction became.
+There was not a doubt of it. The portrait had probably been taken some
+years ago, when the man was younger; but that it was her husband she
+was certain. She was hardly likely to make a mistake on a point of that
+kind. But, in the name of all that was inexplicable, what was Robert
+Champion's photograph doing here?
+
+She glanced at another of the articles she had dropped. It was another
+portrait of the same man, apparently taken a little later. There was a
+third--a smaller one. In it he wore a yachting cap. Although he was no
+yachting man--so far as she knew he had never been on the sea in his
+life; but it was within her knowledge that it was a fashion in headgear
+for which he had had, as she deemed, a most undesirable predilection.
+He had worn one when he had taken her for their honeymoon to Margate;
+anyone looking less like a seaman than he did in it, she thought she
+had never seen. In a fourth photograph Robert Champion was sitting in a
+chair with his arm round Mrs Plummer's waist; she standing at his side
+with her hand upon his shoulder. She was obviously many years older
+than the man in the chair; but she could not have looked more pleased,
+either with herself or with him.
+
+What did it mean?--what could it mean?--those photographs in Mrs
+Plummer's room?
+
+Returning to the first at which she had glanced, the girl saw that the
+name was scrawled across the right-hand bottom corner, which had
+hitherto been hidden by her thumb, in a hand which set her heart
+palpitating with a sense of startled recognition. "Douglas Plummer."
+The name was unmistakable in its big, bombastic letters; but what did
+he mean by scrawling "Douglas Plummer" at the bottom of his own
+photograph? She suddenly remembered having seen a visiting card of Mrs
+Plummer's on which her name had been inscribed "Mrs Douglas Plummer."
+What did it mean?
+
+On the back of the photograph in which the man and the woman had been
+taken together she found that there was written--she knew the writing
+to be Mrs Plummer's--"Taken on our honeymoon."
+
+When she saw that Miss Arnott rose to her feet--for the first time
+since she had stooped to pick up the odds and ends which she had
+dropped--and laughed. It was so very funny. Again she closely examined
+the pair in the picture and the sentence on the back. There could be no
+doubt as to their identity; none as to what the sentence said, nor as
+to the hand by which it had been penned. But on whose honeymoon had it
+been taken? What did it mean?
+
+There came to her a feeling that this was a matter in which inquiries
+should be made at once. She had forgotten altogether the errand which
+had brought her there; she was overlooking everything in the strength
+of her desire to learn, in the shortest possible space of time, what
+was the inner meaning of these photographs which she was holding in her
+hand. She saw the letters which she had disturbed to get at the book
+beneath. In the light of the new discoveries she had made, even at that
+distance she recognised the caligraphy in which they were written. She
+snatched them up; they were in a bundle, tied round with a piece of
+pink baby ribbon. To use a sufficiently-expressive figure of speech,
+the opening line of the first "hit her in the face,"--"My darling
+Agatha."
+
+Agatha? That was Mrs Plummer's Christian name.
+
+She thrust at a letter in the centre. It began--"My precious wife."
+
+His precious wife? Whose wife? Douglas Plummer's?--Robert
+Champion's?--Whose? What did it mean?
+
+As she assailed herself with the question--for at least the dozenth
+time--to which she seemed unlikely to find an answer, a fresh impulse
+caused her to look again about the room--to be immediately struck by
+something which had previously escaped her observation. Surely the bed
+had been slept in. It was rumpled; the pillow had been lain on; the
+bedclothes were turned back, as if someone had slipped from between the
+sheets and left them so. What did that mean?
+
+While the old inquiry was assuming this fresh shape, and all sorts of
+fantastic doubts seemed to have had sudden birth and to be pressing on
+her from every side, the door on the other side of the room was opened,
+and Mrs Plummer entered.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+                              OUT OF SLEEP
+
+
+Miss Arnott was so astounded at the appearance which Mrs Plummer
+presented that, in her bewilderment, she was tongue-tied. What, in the
+absence of tonsorial additions--which the girl had already noted were
+set out in somewhat gruesome fashion on the dressing-table--were shown
+to be her scanty locks, straggled loose about her neck. The garment in
+which her whole person was enveloped was one which Miss Arnott had
+never seen before, and, woman-like, she had a very shrewd knowledge of
+the contents of her companion's wardrobe. More than anything else it
+resembled an unusually voluminous bath-sheet, seeming to have been made
+of what had originally been white Turkish towelling. The whiteness,
+however, had long since disappeared. It was not only in an
+indescribable state of filth, but also of rags and tatters. How any of
+it continued to hang together was a mystery; there was certainly not a
+square foot of it without a rent. On her feet she wore what seemed to
+be the remnants of a pair of bedroom slippers. So far as Miss Arnott
+was able to discern the only other garment she had on was her
+nightdress. In this attire she appeared to have been in some singular
+places. She was all dusty and torn; attached to her here and there were
+scraps of greenery: here a frond of bracken, there the needle of a
+pine.
+
+"Mrs Plummer," cried Miss Arnott, when she had in part realised the
+extraordinary spectacle which her companion offered, "wherever have you
+been?"
+
+But Mrs Plummer did not answer, at first to the girl's increased
+amazement; then it all burst on her in a flash--Mrs Plummer was asleep!
+It seemed incredible; yet it was so. Her eyes were wide open; yet it
+only needed a second or two to make it clear to Miss Arnott that they
+did not see her. They appeared to have the faculty of only seeing those
+objects which were presented to their owner's inner vision. Miss Arnott
+was not present at the moment in Mrs Plummer's thoughts, therefore she
+remained invisible to her staring eyes. It was with a curious feeling
+of having come into unlooked-for contact with something uncanny that
+the girl perceived this was so. Motionless, fascinated, hardly
+breathing, she waited and watched for what the other was about to do.
+
+Mrs Plummer closed the door behind her carefully--with an odd
+carefulness. Coming a few steps into the room she stopped. Looking
+about her with what the girl felt was almost an agony of eagerness, it
+seemed strange that she should not see her; her eyes travelled over her
+more than once. Then she drew a long breath like a sigh. Raising both
+hands to her forehead she brushed back the thin wisps of her faded
+hair. It was with a feeling which was half-shame, half-awe that the
+girl heard her break into speech. It was as though she were intruding
+herself into the other's very soul, and as if the woman was speaking
+with a voice out of the grave.
+
+Indeed, there was an eerie quality about the actual utterance--a
+lifelessness, a monotony, an absence of light and shade. She spoke as
+she might fancy an automaton would speak--all on the same note. The
+words came fluently enough, the sentences seemed disconnected.
+
+"I couldn't find it. I can't think where I put it. It's so strange. I
+just dropped it like that." Mrs Plummer made a sudden forward movement
+with her extended right hand, then went through the motion of dropping
+something from it on to the floor. With sensations which in their
+instant, increasing horror altogether transcended anything which had
+gone before, the girl began to understand. "I can't quite remember. I
+don't think I picked it up again. I feel sure I didn't bring it home. I
+should have found it if I had. I have looked everywhere--everywhere."
+The sightless eyes looked here and there, anxiously, restlessly,
+searchingly, so that the girl began to read the riddle of the
+disordered room. "I must find it. I shall never rest until I do--never!
+I must know where it is! The knife! the knife!"
+
+As the unconscious woman repeated for the second time the last two
+words, a sudden inspiration flashed through the listener's brain; it
+possessed her with such violence that, for some seconds, it set her
+trembling from head to foot. When the first shock its advent had
+occasioned had passed away, the tremblement was followed by a calm
+which was perhaps its natural sequence.
+
+Without waiting to hear or see more she passed out of the room with
+rapid, even steps along the corridor to her own chamber. There she was
+greeted by Evans.
+
+"You've been a long time, miss. I suppose Mrs Plummer couldn't find the
+book you wanted." Then she was evidently struck by the peculiarity of
+the girl's manner. "What has happened? I hope there's nothing else
+that's wrong. Miss Arnott, what are you doing there?"
+
+The girl was unlocking the wardrobe drawer in which she had that
+afternoon replaced Hugh Morice's knife. She took the weapon out.
+
+"Evans, come with me! I'll show you who killed that man in Cooper's
+Spinney! Be quick!"
+
+She took the lady's-maid by the wrist and half-led, half-dragged her
+from the room. Evans looked at her with frightened face, plainly in
+doubt as to whether her young mistress had not all at once gone mad.
+But she offered no resistance. On the landing outside the door they
+encountered Mr Stacey and Mr Gilbert, who were apparently just coming
+up to bed. Miss Arnott hailed them.
+
+"Mr Stacey! Mr Gilbert! you wish to know who it was who murdered Robert
+Champion? Come with me quickly. You shall see!"
+
+They stared at the knife which was in her hand, at the strange
+expression which was on her face. She did not wait for them to speak.
+She moved swiftly towards the staircase which led to the tower-room.
+She loosed her attendant's wrist. But Evans showed no desire to take
+advantage of her freedom, she pressed closely on her mistress's heels.
+Mr Gilbert, rapid in decision, went after the two women without even a
+moment's hesitation. Mr Stacey, of slower habit, paused a moment before
+he moved, then, obviously puzzled, he followed the others.
+
+When the girl returned Mrs Plummer was bending over a drawer, tossing
+its contents in seemingly haphazard fashion on to the carpet.
+
+"I must find it! I must find it!" she kept repeating to herself.
+
+Miss Arnott called to her, not loudly but clearly,--
+
+"Mrs Plummer!" But Mrs Plummer paid no heed. She continued to mutter
+and to turn out the contents of the drawer. The girl moved to her
+across the floor, speaking to her again by name. "Mrs Plummer, what is
+it you are looking for? Is it this knife?"
+
+Plainly the somnambulist was vaguely conscious that a voice had spoken.
+Ceasing to rifle the drawer she remained motionless, holding her head a
+little on one side, as if she listened. Then she spoke again; but
+whether in answer to the question which had been put to her or to
+herself, was not clear.
+
+"The knife! I want to find the knife."
+
+"What knife is it you are looking for? Is it the knife with which you
+killed your husband in the wood?"
+
+The woman shuddered. It seemed as if something had reached her
+consciousness. She said, as if echoing the other's words,--
+
+"My husband in the wood."
+
+The girl became aware that Day, the butler, had entered through the
+door on the other side, wearing his hat, as if he had just come out of
+the open air, and that he was accompanied by Granger in his uniform,
+and by a man whom she did not recognise, but who, as a matter of fact,
+was Nunn, the detective. She knew that, behind her, was Evans with Mr
+Stacey and Mr Gilbert. She understood that, for her purpose, the
+audience could scarcely have been better chosen.
+
+She raised her voice a little, laying stress upon her words.
+
+"Mrs Plummer, here is the knife for which you are looking."
+
+With one hand she held out to her the handle of the knife, with the
+other she touched her on the shoulder. There could be no mistake this
+time as to whether or not the girl had penetrated to the sleep-walker's
+consciousness. They could all of them see that a shiver went all over
+her, almost as if she had been struck by palsy. She staggered a little
+backwards, putting out her arms in front of her as if to ward off some
+threatening danger. There came another fit of shivering, and then they
+knew she was awake--awake but speechless. She stared at the girl in
+front of her as if she were some dreadful ghost. Relentless, still set
+upon her purpose, Miss Arnott went nearer to her.
+
+"Mrs Plummer, here is the knife for which you have been looking--the
+knife with which you killed your husband--Douglas Plummer--in the
+wood."
+
+The woman stared at the knife, then at the girl, then about her. She
+saw the witnesses who stood in either doorway. Probably comprehension
+came to her bewildered intellect, which was not yet wide awake. She
+realised that her secret was no longer her own, since she had been her
+own betrayer, that the Philistines were upon her. She snatched at the
+knife which the girl still held out, and, before they guessed at her
+intention, had buried it almost to the hilt in her own breast.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+                            WHAT WAS WRITTEN
+
+
+She expired that same night without having uttered an intelligible
+word. In a sense her end could hardly have been called an unfortunate
+one. It is certain that, had she lived, she would have had a bad time,
+even if she had escaped the gallows. She had left behind her the whole
+story, set forth in black and white by her own hand. It was a
+sufficiently unhappy one. It is not impossible that, having heard it, a
+jury would have recommended her to mercy. In which case the capital
+sentence would probably have been commuted to one of penal servitude
+for life. It is a moot question whether it is not better to hang
+outright rather than endure a living death within the four walls of a
+gaol.
+
+The story of her life as recounted by herself--and there is no reason
+to doubt the substantial accuracy of her narrative--was this.
+
+Agatha Linfield, a spinster past her first prime, possessed of some
+means of her own, met at a Brighton boarding-house a young man who
+called himself Douglas Plummer. Possibly believing her to be better off
+than she was he paid her attentions from the first moment of their
+meeting. Within a month he had married her. In much less than another
+month she had discovered what kind of a man she had for a husband. He
+inflicted on her all sorts of indignities, subjecting her even to
+physical violence, plundering her of all the money he could. When he
+had brought her to the verge of beggary he fell into the hands of the
+police; as he was destined to do again at a later period in his career.
+Hardly had he been sentenced to a term of imprisonment than his wife
+became the recipient of another small legacy, on the strength of which
+she went abroad, and, by its means, managed to live. Her own desire was
+never to see or hear of her husband again. She even went so far as to
+inform her relatives that he had died and left her a sorrowing widow.
+He, probably having wearied of a woman so much older than himself and
+knowing nothing of the improvement in her fortunes, seems to have made
+no effort on his release to ascertain her whereabouts. In short, for
+some years each vanished out of the other's existence.
+
+On the night of the Saturday on which they returned from abroad, when
+Miss Arnott went for her woodland stroll, Mrs Plummer, whose curiosity
+had been previously aroused as to the true inwardness of her
+proceedings, after an interval followed to see what possible inducement
+there could be to cause her, after a long and fatiguing journey, to
+immediately wander abroad at such an uncanonical hour. She was severely
+punished for her inquisitiveness. Exactly what took place her diary did
+not make clear; details were omitted, the one prominent happening was
+alone narrated in what, under the circumstances, were not unnaturally
+vague and somewhat confused terms. She came upon the man who was known
+to Miss Arnott as Robert Champion, and to her as Douglas Plummer, all
+in a moment, without having had, the second before, the faintest
+suspicion that he was within a hundred miles. She had hoped--had
+tried to convince herself--that he was dead. The sight of him, as,
+without the least warning he rose at her--like some spectre of a
+nightmare--from under the beech tree, seems to have bereft her for a
+moment of her senses. He must have been still writhing from the agony
+inflicted by Jim Baker's "peppering" so that he himself was scarcely
+sane. He had in his hand Hugh Morice's knife, which he had picked up,
+almost by inadvertence, as he staggered to his feet at the sound of
+someone coming. It may be that he supposed the newcomer to have been
+the person who had already shot at him, that his intention was to defend
+himself with the accidentally-discovered weapon from further violence.
+She only saw the knife. She had set down in her diary that he was waiting
+there to kill her; which, on the face of it, had been written with an
+imperfect knowledge of the facts. As he lurched towards her--probably
+as much taken by surprise as she was--she imagined he meant to strike
+her with the knife. Scarcely knowing what she did she snatched it from
+him and killed him on the spot.
+
+It was at that moment she was seen by Hugh Morice and Jim Baker, both
+of whom took her for Miss Arnott. Instantly realising what it was
+that she had done she fled panic-stricken into the woods
+with--presently--Hugh Morice dashing wildly after her. Miss Arnott saw
+Hugh Morice, and him only, and drew her own erroneous conclusions.
+
+Mrs Plummer gained entrance to the house by climbing through a tall
+casement window, which chanced to have been left unfastened, and which
+opened into a passage near the foot of the service staircase.
+Afterwards, fast asleep, she frequently got in and out of the house
+through that same window. Unknown to her the discreet Mr Day saw her
+entry. She had still very far from regained full control of her sober
+senses. So soon as she was in, seized, apparently, by a sudden
+recollection, she exclaimed, turning again to the casement, "The knife!
+the knife! I've left the knife!"
+
+Mr Day, who had no particular affection for the lady, heard the words,
+saw the condition she was in, and decided, there and then, that she had
+recently been involved in some extremely singular business. Until,
+shortly afterwards, he admitted her himself, he was inclined to fear
+that she had killed his young mistress.
+
+The impression Mrs Plummer had made upon his mind never left him.
+Spying on her at moments when she little suspected espionage, his
+doubts gained force as time went on, until they amounted to conviction.
+When the body was found in the spinney, although he had little evidence
+to go upon, he had, personally, no doubt as to who was the guilty
+party. It was because he was divided between the knowledge that it was
+his duty to tell all he knew and his feelings that it would be
+derogatory to his dignity and repellent to his most cherished instincts
+to be mixed up with anything which had to do with the police, that he
+was desirous of quitting Miss Arnott's service ere he was dragged,
+willy-nilly, into an uncomfortably prominent position in a most
+unpleasant affair.
+
+Nothing which afterwards transpired caused him at any time, to doubt,
+that, whenever he chose, he could lay his hand upon the criminal. He
+alone, of all the persons in the drama, had an inkling of the truth.
+
+
+
+
+                            CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+                         MISS ARNOTT'S MARRIAGE
+
+
+The charge against Jim Baker was withdrawn at the earliest possible
+moment. Hugh Morice was released that night from the confinement which
+he had himself invited. When Mr Nunn asked what had made him accuse
+himself of a crime of which he was altogether innocent he laughed.
+
+"Since you yourself were about to charge one innocent person, you
+should be the last person in the world to object to my charging
+another."
+
+The next day he went to Exham Park. There he saw its mistress. By
+degrees the whole tale was told. It took a long time in the telling.
+Part of it was told in the house, and then, as it still seemed
+unfinished, he went out with her upon her motor car. The rest of it was
+told upon the way.
+
+"It seems," she pointed out, "that, as the wretch married that poor
+woman before he ever saw me, I never was his wife at all. I don't know
+if it's better that way or worse."
+
+"Better."
+
+"I'm not so sure."
+
+"I am. Because, when you become my wife--"
+
+She put the car on to the fourth speed. There was a long, straight,
+level road and not a soul in sight. They moved!
+
+"You'll get into trouble if you don't look out."
+
+"I'm not afraid."
+
+"I was about to remark that when you become my wife--"
+
+"I wish you wouldn't talk to me when we're going at this rate. You know
+it's dangerous."
+
+"Get down on to the first speed at once." She did slow a trifle, which
+enabled him to speak without unduly imperilling their safety. "I was
+saying that when you become my wife I shall marry you as Miss
+Arnott--Violet Arnott, spinster. That will be your precise description.
+I prefer it that way, if you don't mind."
+
+Whether she minded or not that was what he did. No one thereabouts had
+the dimmest notion what was her actual relation to the man who had met
+the fate which, after all, was not wholly undeserved. So that the great
+and glorious festival, which will not be forgotten in that countryside
+for many a day, is always spoken of by everyone who partook of the
+bride and bridegroom's splendid hospitality as "Miss Arnott's
+marriage."
+
+It was indeed one of those marriages of which we may assuredly affirm,
+that those whom God hath joined no man shall put asunder.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                               EDINBURGH
+
+                        COLSTON AND COY. LIMITED
+
+                                PRINTERS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Arnott's Marriage, by Richard Marsh
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