diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/54979-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/54979-0.txt | 12946 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 12946 deletions
diff --git a/old/54979-0.txt b/old/54979-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 236baf8..0000000 --- a/old/54979-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12946 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Holly, by Fergus Hume - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Yellow Holly - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: July 7, 2017 [EBook #54979] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW HOLLY *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (the University of Wisconsin-Madison) - - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page Scan Source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=oILQAAAAMAAJ - (the University of Wisconsin-Madison) - - - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - - - -POPULAR NOVELS BY FERGUS HUME -============================= -A COIN OF EDWARD VII. - -_The Philadelphia Item_ says: "This book is quite up to the level of -the high standard which Mr. Hume has set for himself in 'The Mystery -of a Hansom Cab' and 'The Rainbow Feather.' It is a brilliant, -stirring adventure, showing the author's prodigious inventiveness, his -well of imagination never running dry." - -12mo, Cloth bound, $1.25 - - -THE PAGAN'S CUP - -_The Nashville American_ says: "The plot is intricate with mystery and -probability neatly dovetailed and the solution is a series of -surprises skillfully retarded to whet the interest of the reader. It -is excellently written and the denouement so skillfully concealed that -one's interest and curiosity are kept on edge till the very last. It -will certainly be a popular book with a very large class of readers." - -12mo, Cloth bound, $1.25 -Paper covers, 50cts. - - -THE RAINBOW FEATHER - -_The Boston Ideas_ says "The plot is worked out very effectively and -each character serves the author's purpose very forcibly. The -narration is brisk and experienceful, and renders the tale thoroughly -enjoyable. It is strongly written, and excellently colored in all its -features." - -12mo, Cloth bound, $1.25 -Paper covers, 50cts. - - -CLAUDE DUVAL OF -NINETY-FIVE - -_The Philadelphia Item_ says: "It is a very clever story, which runs -on smoothly from start to finish, holding the reader's interest--as do -every solitary one of the Hume stories, to the very last sentence. -Everybody who likes good detective fiction or who has read Mr. Hume -before should not miss this excellent story." - -Paper cover, 50cts. - - -======================== - -G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - - - - - -[Illustration: Lola pulled a white packet from her breast and ran with -it to the fire. George shot past her, snatched them out before they -could catch alight, and thrust them into his pocket.--(_Page 296_.)] - - - - - - -THE -YELLOW HOLLY - - - -BY -FERGUS HUME -AUTHOR OF -"THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE RAINBOW FEATHER," -"A COIN OF EDWARD VII.," "THE PAGAN'S CUP," -"CLAUDE DUVAL OF NINETY-FIVE," -ETC. - - - -G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - - - - - -Copyright, 1903, by -G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY - -_Issued October 1, 1908_ - - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAPTER - - I. "MRS. JERSEY RECEIVES" - II. BRENDON'S STORY - III. THE NEXT MORNING - IV. A NINE-DAYS' WONDER - V. A LOVERS' MEETING - VI. WHAT MR. IRELAND KNEW - VII. THE RED MAN - VIII. A BACCHANTE - IX. CLEVER MRS. WARD - X. DIPLOMACY - XI. MR. BAWDSEY AT HOME - XII. A FIRESIDE TYRANT - XIII. A WOMAN SCORNED - XIV. MRS. WARD'S TRUMP CARD - XV. A RECOGNITION - XVI. THE PIPE OF PEACE - XVII. LORD DERRINGTON EXPLAINS - XVIII. MISS BULL'S STORY - XIX. THE INQUIRY AGENT - XX. THE TROUBLE OF LOLA - XXI. THE CONFESSION OF A JEALOUS WOMAN - XXII. WHO BAWDSEY WAS - XXIII. THE TURNING OF THE LANE - XXIV. A STARTLING SURPRISE - XXV. THE TRUTH - - - - - - -THE YELLOW HOLLY - - - - - - -CHAPTER I - -"MRS. JERSEY RECEIVES" - - -She did not put the sacramental phrase on her cards, as no invitations -were sent out. These were delivered verbally by boarders desirous of -seeing their friends present on Friday evening. Mrs. Jersey dignified -her gatherings with the name of "At Homes," but in truth the term was -too majestic for the very mild entertainment she provided weekly. - -It was really a scratch party of nobodies, and they assembled as usual -in the drawing-room on this especial evening, to play and not to work. -Mrs. Taine laid aside her eternal knitting; Miss Bull dispensed with -her game of "Patience;" Mr. Granger sang his one song of the early -Victorian Epoch--sometimes twice when singers were scarce; and Mr. -Harmer wore his antiquated dress-suit. On these festive occasions it -was tacitly understood that all were to be more or less "dressy," as -Mrs. Jersey put it, and her appearance in "the diamonds" signalized -the need of unusual adornment. These jewels were the smallest and most -inferior of stones; but diamonds they undeniably were, and the -boarders alluded to them as they would have done to the Kohinoor. - -In her black silk gown, her lace cap, and "the diamonds" Mrs. Jersey -looked--so they assured her--quite the lady. - -Was she a lady? No one ever asked that leading question, as it would -have provoked an untruth or a most unpleasant reply. She admitted in -expansive moments to having seen "better days," but what her actual -past had been--and from her looks she had one--none ever discovered. -The usual story, produced by an extra glass of negus, varied so -greatly in the telling that the most innocent boarder doubted. But -Mrs. Jersey was always treated with respect, and the boarders called -her "Madame" in quite a French way. Why they should do so, no one ever -knew, and Mrs. Jersey herself could not have explained. But the term -had become traditional, and in that conservative mansion tradition was -all-powerful. - -Few friends presented themselves on this particular Friday evening, -for it was extremely foggy, and none of them could afford cabs. Even -those who patronized the nearest bus line, had some distance to walk -before they knocked at the Jersey door, and thus ran a chance of -losing their way. Either in light or darkness the house was hard to -find, for it occupied the corner of a particularly private square far -removed from the Oxford Street traffic. As a kind of haven or -back-water, it received into its peace those who found the current of -the River of Life running too strong. Decayed ladies, disappointed -spinsters, superannuated clerks, retired army officers, bankrupt -dreamers--these were the derelicts which had drifted hither. Mrs. -Jersey called these social and commercial failures "paying guests," -which flattered their pride and cost nothing. She was something of a -humbug, and always ready with the small change of politeness. - -It was quite an asylum for old age. None of the guests were under -fifty, save a newcomer who had arrived the previous week, and they -wondered why he came amongst them. He was young, though plain-looking; -he was fashionably dressed, though stout, and he chatted a West-End -jargon, curiously flippant when contrasted with their prim -conversation. This was the first time he had been present at Madame's -reception, and he was explaining his reasons for coming to Bloomsbury. -Mrs. Jersey introduced him as "Leonard Train, the distinguished -novelist," although he had published only one book at his own cost, -and even that production was unknown to the boarders. They read -_Thackeray_ and his contemporaries, and manifested a proper scorn for -the up-to-date novelist and his analytical methods. - -Mr. Train, with a complacency which showed that he entertained the -highest opinion of his own powers, stood on the hearth-rug, and -delivered himself of his errand to Bloomsbury. - -"Fashionable novelists," said he, in a still, small voice, which -contrasted curiously with his massive proportions, "have overdone the -business of society and epigrams. We must revert to the Dickens style. -I have therefore taken up my residence here for a brief period to -study Old-World types." Here he looked round with a beaming smile. "I -am glad to find so rich a field to glean." - -This doubtful compliment provoked weak smiles. The boarders did not -wish to be rude, but they felt it was impossible to approve of the -young man. Not being sufficiently modern to court notoriety, one and -all disliked the idea of being "put in a book." Mrs. Taine, conscious -of her weak grammar, looked uneasily at Miss Bull, who smiled grimly -and then glared at Train. Granger drew himself up and pulled his gray -mustache; he was the buck of the establishment, and Harmer nodded, -saying, "Well, well!" his usual remark when he did not understand what -was going on. Only Madame spoke. Train had taken a sitting-room as -well as a bedroom, therefore he must be rich, and as he had not -haggled over terms it was necessary that he should be flattered. Mrs. -Jersey saw a chance of making money out of him. - -"How delightful," she said in her motherly manner; "I hope you will -say nice things about us, Mr. Train." - -"I shall tell the truth, Madame. The truth does not flatter." - -Mrs. Jersey became still more motherly and paid a compliment. "That -depends, Mr. Train. If the truth were spoken about you, for instance." - -It was really a very nice compliment; but Miss Bull, with malice -aforethought, spoilt it in the utterance by laughing pointedly. Train, -who had already set his face for a smile, grew red, and Madame darted -a look at Miss Bull quite out of keeping with her motherly manner. -More than this, she spoke her mind. "I hope, Mr. Train, that you will -speak the whole truth of _some_ of us." - -Miss Bull shrugged her thin shoulders, and in direct contradiction to -the traditions of the evening produced her pack of cards. She played a -complicated game called "The Demon," and never went to bed until she -had achieved success at least thrice. Even when driven from the -drawing-room she would finish the game in her bedroom, and sometimes -sat up half the night when her luck was bad. To abstain on this -society evening always annoyed her, and since Madame had been rude -Miss Bull seized the opportunity to show her indifference, and enjoy, -by doing so, her favorite pastime. She was a small, thin, dry old -maid, with a pallid face and bright black eyes. Her mouth was hard, -and smiled treacherously. No one liked her save Margery, the niece of -Mrs. Jersey. But Margery was supposed to be queer, so her approval of -Miss Bull mattered little. - -"Perhaps Mr. Granger will oblige us with a song," suggested Madame, -smoothing her face, but still inwardly furious. - -Mr. Granger, who had been waiting for this moment, was only too happy. -He knew but one song, and had sung it dozens of times in that very -room. It was natural to suppose that he knew it by heart. All the same -he produced his music, and read the words as he sang. Margery played -his accompaniment without looking at the notes. She was as familiar -with them as she was with the moment when Mr. Granger's voice would -crack. This night he cracked as usual, apologized as usual, and his -hearers accepted the apology as usual, so it was all very pleasant. -"'The Death of Nelson,'" said Granger, "is a difficult song to sing -when the singer is not in voice. The fog, you know----" - -"Quite so," murmured Train, politely. "Do you know 'Will-o-the-Wisp,' -Mr. Granger?" - -Mr. Granger did not, much to his regret, and Mr. Harmer joined in the -conversation. "Now there's a song," said he--"'Will-o-the-Wisp.' I -knew a man who could bring the roof down with that song. Such lungs!" - -"I don't love that loud shouting, myself," said Mrs. Taine in her fat -voice. "Give me something soft and low, like 'My Pretty Jane!'" - -"Ah! you should have heard Sims Reeves sing it," said Harmer. - -"I have heard him," said Leonard, to whom the remark was addressed. - -Harmer was annoyed. "Perhaps you have heard Grisi and Mario also?" - -"No, sir. But my grandfather did." - -"Probably," said Harmer, glancing at his fresh face and bald head in a -near mirror. "I was a mere child myself when I heard them. Do you know -much about music, Mr. Train?" - -"I have heard it a good deal talked about," replied Leonard, with the -air of saying something clever. - -"And great rubbish they talk," put in Mrs. Taine, smoothing one hand -over the other. "In my young days we talked of Wagner and Weber. Now -it is all Vagner and Veber--such affectation." - -"Ah! manners are not what they used to be," sighed another old lady, -who prided herself on her straight back and clear eyesight. - -"Nor singers," said Mr. Granger. "There are no voices nowadays, none." - -"What about Calve and Melba?" asked Leonard. - -"Those are foreigners," said Mr. Granger, getting out of the -difficulty. "I speak of our native talent, sir." - -"Melba comes from Australia." - -"She is not English--a foreigner, I tell you. Don't talk to me, sir." - -Mr. Granger was becoming restive at being thus contradicted, and -privately thought Leonard an impertinent young man. Madame, seeing -that the old gentleman was ruffled, hastily intervened. "If Mrs. Taine -will play us the 'Canary Bird Quadrilles' how pleased we shall be." - -Mrs. Taine obliged, and Harmer hung over the piano, quite enraptured -at these airs which recalled his hot youth. Afterward he begged for -the "Mabel Waltz." Meantime Margery was sitting in the corner with -Miss Bull, and both were engrossed with "Patience." Madame, under -cover of the music, talked with Train. - -"You mustn't mind the guests," she said; "they are old and require to -be humored." - -"It's most amusing, Madame. I shall stop here three weeks to pick up -types." - -"Oh! you must stay longer than that," said Madame, smiling and patting -his hand, still in a motherly way; "now, that you have found us out, -we cannot lose you. By the way--" here Mrs. Jersey's eyes became very -searching--"how did you find us out?" - -"It was a friend of mine, Madame. He knew that I wanted to get -into the Dickens world, and suggested this house. I am not -disappointed--oh, not at all--" and Leonard glanced at Margery, who -was fat, dull and stupid in her looks. She certainly resembled one of -Dickens's characters, but he could not recollect which at the moment. - -"Do I know the gentleman?" asked Madame, who seemed anxious. - -"I don't think so. But he is coming to see me to-night." - -"You must ask him in here and introduce him. I should like to thank -him for having recommended my house." - -"We were going to have a conversation in my room," said Train, -dubiously; "he's such a shy fellow that I don't think he'll come in." - -"Oh! but, he must; I love young people." Madame looked round and -shrugged. "It is rather dreary here at times, Mr. Train." - -"I can quite believe that," replied Leonard, who already was beginning -to find the Dickens types rather boring. "Who is that tall old man -with the long hair?" - -"Hush! He may hear you. His name is Rasper. A great inventor, a most -distinguished man." - -"What has he invented?" - -"Oh, all sorts of things," replied Mrs. Jersey, vaguely. "His name is -quite a household word in Clapham. See, he's inventing something now." -Mr. Rasper, who had rather a haggard appearance, as though he used his -brains too much, was glooming over the back of an envelope and the -stump of a pencil. He frowned as he chewed this latter, and seemed -bent upon working out an abstruse problem. "But it will really will -not do, Mr. Train," said Madame, shaking her head till "the diamonds" -twinkled; "this is our evening of relaxation. But Miss Bull, against -all precedent, is playing 'Patience,' and here is Mr. Rasper -inventing." She rose to interrupt Mr. Rasper, but remained to ask -Leonard if his friend was stopping the night. - -"He will if he comes at all," replied Leonard, looking at his watch; -"but if the fog is very thick I don't know if he'll turn up. It is now -nine o'clock." - -"We usually disperse at eleven," said Madame, "but on this night I -must break up at ten, as I have--" she hesitated--"I have business to -do." - -"I won't trouble you, Madame," said Train; "my friend and I can have -supper in my room." - -"That's just it," said Madame, and her voice became rather hard. "I -beg, Mr. Train, that you and your friend will not sit up late." - -"Why not? We both wish to smoke and talk." - -"You can do that in the daytime, Mr. Train. But my house is most -respectable, and I hope you will be in bed before eleven." - -Leonard would have protested, as he objected to this sort of maternal -government, but Mrs. Jersey rustled away, and he was left to make the -best of it. Before he could collect his wits a message came that he -was wanted. "By Jove! it's George," he said and hurried out of the -room. Mrs. Jersey overheard the name. - -"I suppose his friend is called George," she thought, and frowned. Her -recollections of that name were not pleasant. However, she thought no -more about the matter, but rebuked Mr. Rasper for his inattention to -the 'Mabel Waltz.' "It is so sweet of Mrs. Taine to play it." - -"I beg pardon--beg pardon," stuttered Rasper, putting away his -envelope and looking up with a dreamy eye. "I was inventing a new -bootjack. I hope to make my fortune out of it." - -Madame smiled pityingly. She had heard that prophecy before, but poor -Rasper's inventions had never succeeded in getting him the house in -Park Lane he was always dreaming about. But she patted his shoulder -and then sailed across to Miss Bull. "The music doesn't please you, -Miss Bull," she said in rather an acid tone. - -"It's very nice," replied the old maid, dealing the cards, "but I have -heard the 'Mabel Waltz' before." - -"You may not have the chance of hearing it again," said Madame. - -Miss Bull shrugged her shoulders to signify that it did not matter. - -"I suppose that means Mrs. Taine is about to leave us, she said. - -"There may be changes in the establishment soon, Miss Bull." - -"It's a world of change," replied Miss Bull, in her sharp voice. -"Margery, was that a heart?" - -Margery pointed a fat finger to the card in question, and Miss Bull -muttered something about her eyesight getting worse. Madame knew that -this was just done to annoy her, as Miss Bull's sight was excellent. -To revenge herself she took Margery away. "Go and tell the servants to -send up the negus and sandwiches," she said sharply. - -Margery rose heavily. She was a huge girl of twenty years of age, and -apparently very stupid. Why sharp little Miss Bull, who loved no one, -had taken to her no one knew; but the two were inseparable. Seeing -this, Madame usually kept Margery hard at work in other quarters so as -to part her from the old maid. But with the cunning of an animal--and -Margery was very much of that type--the girl managed to see a great -deal of her one friend. Madame had an idea of the reason for this, but -at the present moment did not think it was necessary to interfere. She -was quite capable of crushing Miss Bull when the need arose. Meantime -she vented her temper by sending Margery away. The girl departed with -a scowl and an angry look at her aunt. But Miss Bull never raised her -eyes, though she was well aware of what was going on. - -Madame was not to be beaten. "I tell you what, dear Miss Bull," she -said, smiling graciously, "since you have broken through our rule, and -have produced the cards, you shall tell all our fortunes." - -"Yours?" asked Miss Bull, looking up for the first time. - -Madame shook her head. "I know mine. Tell Mr. Rasper if his invention -will succeed. Or, perhaps, Mr. Granger?" - -"I am at Miss Bull's service," said the polite old gentleman bowing. - -Miss Bull swept the cards into a heap. "I'm quite willing," she said -in a voice almost pleasant for her. "Anything to oblige dear Madame." - -Mrs. Jersey smiled still more graciously and sailed away to send Mr. -Harmer to the cards. But she wondered inwardly why Miss Bull had given -way so suddenly. There was some reason for it, as Miss Bull never did -anything without a reason. But Mrs. Jersey kept her own counsel, and -still continued to smile. She had quite made up her mind how to act. - -"Ladies and gentlemen," she said, standing in the middle of the -drawing-room, "we must disperse to-night at ten. I have some business -to attend to, so I request you will all retire at that hour. In the -mean time, Miss Bull has kindly consented to tell your fortunes." - -It was extraordinary to see how those withered old people crowded -round the table. Their several fates had long since been settled, so -what they could expect the cards to tell them, save that they would -one and all die soon, it is difficult to say. Yet so ineradicable is -the wish to know the future in the human breast that they were as -eager as youth to hear what would befall them. And Miss Bull, wholly -unmoved by their senile excitement, dealt the cards with the air of a -sphinx. - -Madame meantime retired to her throne, and saw that the servants -arranged the tray properly. She had a gigantic chair, which was -jokingly called her throne, and here she received strangers in quite a -majestic way. It was a sort of Lady Blessington reception on a small -scale, as Mr. Harmer assured her, and, as he had been to Gore House in -his youth, he knew what he was talking about. Knowing his courtly -manners, and being greedy of compliments, Mrs. Jersey always tried to -make him say that she resembled Lady Blessington. But this Mr. Harmer -refused to do. Not that Mrs. Jersey was bad-looking. She had a -fresh-colored face, bright black eyes, and plenty of white hair like -spun silk. Her figure was stout, but she yet retained a certain -comeliness which showed that she must have been a handsome woman in -her youth. Her manners were motherly, but she showed a stern face -toward Margery, and did not treat the girl so kindly as she might have -done. As a rule, she had great self-command, but sometimes gave way to -paroxysms of passion, which were really terrifying. But Margery alone -had been witness of these, and Mrs. Jersey passed for a dear, gentle -old lady. - -"Mr. Harmer is to be married," announced Mrs. Taine, leaving the -circle round the card-table; "how extraordinary!" - -"So extraordinary that it can't possibly be true," said Mr. Harmer, -dryly; "unless Madame will accept me," he added, bowing. - -"I should recommend Miss Bull," replied Madame very sweetly, but with -a venomous note in her voice. She might as well have thought to rouse -the dead, for Miss Bull paid not the slightest attention. In many ways -the self-composed old maid was a match for Madame. - -At this moment Train entered, and after him came a tall young man, -fair-haired and stalwart. He was handsome, but seemed to be ill at -ease, and pulled his yellow mustache nervously as Train led him to the -throne. - -"This is my friend," said Leonard, presenting him. "He just managed to -get here, for the fog is so thick----" - -Here he was interrupted. "Madame!" cried Mrs. Taine, "what is the -matter? Mr. Harmer, the water--wine--quick." - -There was need of it. Mrs. Jersey had fallen back on the throne with a -white face and twitching lips. She appeared as though about to faint, -but restraining herself with a powerful effort she waved her hand to -intimate that she needed nothing. At the same time her eyes were -fastened, not so much on the face of the stranger as on a piece of -yellow holly he wore in his coat. "I am perfectly well," said Mrs. -Jersey. "This is only one of my turns. I am glad to see you, Mr.----" - -"Brendon," said the stranger, who seemed astonished at this reception. - -"George Brendan," interpolated Train, who was alive with curiosity; -"have you seen him before, Madame?" - -Mrs. Jersey laughed artificially. "Certainly not," she replied calmly, -"and yours is not a face I should forget, Mr.----Brendon." - -She uttered the name with a certain amount of hesitation as though she -was not sure it was the right one. George nodded. - -"My name is Brendan," he said rather unnecessarily, and Mrs. Jersey -nodded in her most gracious manner. - -"I bid you welcome sir; any friend of Mr. Train's is also my friend. -If there is anything to amuse you here?" She waved her hand. "We are -simple people. Fortune-telling--a little music and the company of my -guests. Mrs. Taine, Mr. Harmer!" She introduced them, but every now -and then her eyes were on the yellow holly. Brendan remarked it. - -"You are noticing my flower, Mrs. Jersey," he said. "It is rather -rare." - -"Most extraordinary," replied Mrs. Jersey, coolly. "I have seen holly -with red berries before, but this yellow----" - -"There was a great bush of it in my father's garden," said Mr. Harmer, -"but I have not seen any for years." - -"Perhaps you would like it, Mrs. Jersey," said Brendan, taking it from -his coat. - -She hastily waved her hand. "No! no! I am too old for flowers. Keep -it, Mr. Brendan. It suits better with your youth," she looked at his -face keenly. "I have seen a face like yours before." - -Brendan laughed. "I am of a commonplace type, I fear," he said. - -"No; not so very common. Fair hair and dark eyes do not usually go -together. Perhaps I have met your father?" - -"Perhaps," replied George, phlegmatically. - -"Or your mother," persisted Mrs. Jersey. - -"I dare say!" Then he turned the conversation. "What a delightful old -house you have here!" - -Mrs. Jersey bit her lip on finding her inquiries thus baffled, but -taking her cue expanded on the subject of the house. "It was a -fashionable mansion in the time of the Georges," she said. "Some of -the ceilings are wonderfully painted, and there are all kinds of queer -rooms and cupboards and corners in it. And so quiet. I dare say," she -went on, "this room was filled with beaux and belles in powder and -patches. What a sight, Mr. Brendon--what a sight! Will you have some -negus? Port-wine negus, Mr. Brendan." - -She was evidently talking at random, and offered him a glass of negus -with a trembling hand. Brendan; evidently more and more astonished at -her manner, drank off the wine. He made few remarks, being a man who -spoke little in general company. Train had long ago gone to hear Miss -Bull tell fortunes and, from the laughter, it was evident that his -future was being prophesied. - -"No! no!" cried Train, "I shall never marry. A literary man should -keep himself away from the fascinations of female society." - -"Do you agree with that, Mr. Brendan?" asked Mrs. Jersey, curiously. - -He shook his head and laughed. "I am not a hermit, Mrs. Jersey." - -"Then Miss Bull must prophesy about your marriage. Come!" - -At first Brendon was unwilling to go, but after some persuasion he -submitted to be led to the table. Miss Bull was quite willing to do -what was asked of her, and spread out the cards. Brendon waited beside -Mrs. Jersey with a most indifferent air. She was far more anxious to -hear the fortune than he was. - -"You are in trouble," announced Miss Bull in a sepulchral tone, "and -the trouble will grow worse. But in the end all will be well. She will -aid you to get free and will bestow her hand on you." - -"She?" asked Brendon, looking puzzled. - -Miss Bull did not raise her eyes. "The lady you are thinking of." - -Brendon was rather taken aback, but seeing Mrs. Jersey's curious look -he crushed down his emotion. "At my age we are always thinking of -ladies," he said, laughing. - -Train touched his arm. "It is----" he began, but Brendon frowned, and -Leonard was quick enough to take the hint. Miss Bull went on telling -the fortune. There were the usual dark and fair people, the widow, the -journey, the money, and all the rest of the general events and -happenings which are usually foretold. But there was always trouble, -trouble, and again trouble. "But you will come out right in the end," -said Miss Bull. "Keep a brave heart." - -"I am sure Mr. Brendon will do that," said Madame, graciously. - -While George bowed to the compliment, Miss Bull again shuffled the -cards and fastened her keen black eyes on Madame. "Will you have your -fortune told?" she asked coldly. - -"Oh, certainly!" said Mrs. Jersey in a most gushing manner; "anything -to amuse. But my fortune has been told so often, and has never come -true--never," and she sighed in an effective manner. - -Miss Bull continued her mystic counting. She told Madame a lot of -things about the house which were known to most present. Mrs. Jersey -laughed and sneered. Suddenly Miss Bull turned up a black card, "You -will meet with a violent death," she said, and every one shuddered. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -BRENDON'S STORY - - -If Miss Bull wished to make Madame uncomfortable she certainly -succeeded. From being voluble, Mrs. Jersey became silent, the fresh -color died out of her face, and her lips moved nervously. Twice did -she make an effort to overcome her emotion, but each time failed. -Afterward she took a seat by the fire, and stared into the flames with -an anxious look, as though she saw therein a fulfillment of the dismal -prophecy. Her depression communicated itself to the rest of the -company, and shortly before ten the friends took their departure. The -idea of being alone seemed to cheer Mrs. Jersey, and she accompanied -her departing guests to the front door. - -It was a comparatively thick fog, yet not so bad but that the visitors -might hope to reach their homes. For some time Mrs. Jersey stood in -the doorway at the top of the steps, and shook hands with those who -were going. The boarders, who were old and chilly, were too wise to -venture outside on such a dreary night, so Mrs. Jersey had the -door-step all to herself. "If you lose your ways," she called out to -the visitors "come back. You can tell the house by the red light." She -pointed to the fanlight of crimson glass behind which gas was burning. -"I will keep that alight for another hour." - -The voices of thanks came back muffled by the fog, but Leonard and -George waited to hear no more. They walked upstairs to Train's -sitting-room, which was on the first floor. The windows looked out on -to a back garden, wherein grew a few scrubby trees, so that the -prospect was not cheering. But on this night the faded crimson -curtains were drawn, the fire was lighted, and a round table in the -middle of the apartment was spread for supper. On one side a door led -to Leonard's bedroom, on the other side was the room wherein George -was to sleep. As the fire-light played on the old-fashioned furniture -and on the mellow colors of curtains and carpet, Leonard rubbed his -hands. "It is rather quaint," he said cheerfully, and lighted the -lamp. - -"Not such a palace as your diggings in Duke Street," said Brendon, -stretching his long legs on the chintz-covered sofa. - -"One must suffer in the cause of art," said Train, putting the shade -on the lamp. "I am picking up excellent types here. What do you -think?" - -"There's plenty of material," growled Brendon, getting out his pipe. - -"Don't smoke yet, George," interposed Train, glancing at the clock. -"We must have supper first. After that, we can smoke till eleven, and -then we must go to bed." - -"You keep early hours here, Leonard." - -"I don't. Mrs. Jersey asked me particularly to be in bed at eleven." - -"Why?" Brendon started, and looked hard at his friend. - -"I don't know, but she did." - -"Is it an understood thing that you retire at that hour?" - -Train shook his head and drew in his chair. "By no means. I have sat -up till two before now. But on this night Mrs. Jersey wants the house -to be considered respectable, and therefore asked me to retire early. -Perhaps it's on account of you, old man." Here he smiled in an amused -manner. "She hopes to get you as a boarder." - -"I wouldn't come here for the world," retorted Brendon, with quite -unnecessary violence. - -"Why not? Have some tongue!" - -"Thanks," responded George, passing his plate. "Because I don't like -the house, and I don't care for Mrs. Jersey." - -"Why did you advise me to come here, then?" asked Train, pouring out a -glass of claret. - -"Well, you wanted something in the style of Dickens, and this was the -only place I knew." - -"How did you know about it?" - -George deliberated for a moment, and then fastened his eyes on his -plate. "I lived here once," he said in a low voice. - -"Dear me," gasped Train, "what an extraordinary thing." - -"Why so? One must live somewhere." - -"But you didn't like Mrs. Jersey." - -"She was not here then." - -"Who was here?" - -"My grandfather on the mother's side. That's fifteen years ago." - -Leonard looked at the handsome, moody face of his friend, musingly. "I -never knew you had a grandfather," he said at last. - -"Do you know anything at all about me?" asked Brendon. - -"No. Now I come to think of it, I don't. I met you three years ago at -Mrs. Ward's house, and we have been friends ever since." - -"Acquaintances, rather. Men are not friends until they become -confidential with one another. Well, Train," George pushed back his -chair and wiped his mouth, "to-night I intend to turn you from a mere -acquaintance into a friend." - -"I shall be delighted," said Train, rather bewildered. "Won't you have -more supper?" - -Brendon shook his head, lighted his pipe, and again stretched himself -on the sofa. Train, being curious to know what he had to say, was on -the point of joining him. But he was yet hungry, so could not bring -himself to leave the table. He therefore continued his supper, and, as -Brendon seemed disinclined to talk, held his peace. - -Train's parents were dead, and had left him a snug little income of -five thousand a year. Not being very strong-minded, and being more -than a trifle conceited as to his literary abilities, his money -speedily attracted round him a number of needy hangers-on, who -flattered him to the top of his bent. They praised him to his face, -sneered at him behind his back; ate his meat, borrowed his money, and -kept him in a fools' paradise regarding human nature. Poor Leonard -thought that all women were angels, and all men good fellows with a -harmless tendency to borrow. Such a Simple Simon could not but be the -prey of every scoundrel in London, and it said much for his moral -nature that he touched all this pitch without being defiled. He was -called a fool by those he fed, but none could call him a rogue. - -It was this simplicity which inspired Brendon with a pitying -friendship; and Brendon had done much to save him from the harpies who -preyed on this innocent. In several cases he had opened Train's eyes, -at the cost of quarreling with those who lost by the opening. But -George was well able to hold his own, and none could say that he -benefited pecuniarily by the trust and confidence which Leonard -reposed in him. To avert all suspicion of this sort he had refused to -become Train's secretary and companion at an excellent salary. Brendon -was poor and wanted that salary; but he valued his independence, and -so preferred to fight for his own hand. However, he continued his -services to Leonard as a kind of unofficial mentor. - -Now that Train came to think of it, Brendon was rather a mysterious -person. He lived by writing articles for the papers, and was always -well dressed. His rooms were in Kensington, and he seemed to know many -people whom he did not cultivate. Train would have given his ears to -enter the houses at which Brendon was a welcome guest. But for the -most part George preferred to live alone with his pipe and his books. -He was writing a novel, and hoped to make a successful career as a -literary man. But as he was barely thirty years of age, and had been -settled only five years in London, his scheme of life was rather in -embryo. He appeared to have some secret trouble, but what it was Train -never knew, as Brendon was a particularly reticent man. Why he should -propose to be frank on this especial night Leonard could not -understand. After supper he put the question to him. - -"Well," said Brendon, without moving or taking his eyes from the fire, -"it's this way, Train. I know you are a kind-hearted man, and although -you talk very freely about your own affairs, yet I know you can keep -the secret of a friend." - -"You can depend upon that, George. Anything you tell me will never be -repeated." - -Brendon nodded his thanks. "Also," he continued, "I wish you to lend -me three hundred pounds." - -"A thousand if you will." - -"Three hundred will be sufficient. I'll repay you when I come into my -property." - -Train opened his eyes. "Are you coming into money?" he asked. - -"That I can't say. It all depends! Do you know why I suggested this -house to you, Leonard?" he asked suddenly. - -"To help me in my literary work." - -"That was one reason certainly, but I had another and more selfish -one, connected--" George sat up to finish the sentence--"connected -with Mrs. Jersey," he said quietly. - -This remark was so unexpected that Leonard did not know what to say -for the moment. "I thought you did not know her," he gasped out. - -"Nor do I." - -"Does she know you?" - -"Not as George Brendon, or as I am now." - -"What do you mean?" Train was more puzzled than ever. - -"It's a long story. I don't know that I can tell you the whole." - -Train looked annoyed. "Trust me----" - -"All in all, or not at all," finished Brendon; "quite so." He paused -and drew hard at his pipe. "Since I want money I must trust you." - -"Is it only for that reason that you consider me worthy of your -confidence?" asked Leonard, much mortified. - -George leaned forward and patted him on the knee. "No, old man. I wish -you to help me also." - -"In what way?" - -"With Dorothy Ward," replied George, looking closely at his pipe. - -"Was she in your mind to-night when that old maid was telling the -cards?" asked Train, sitting up with a look of interest. - -Brendon nodded. "But I do not wish you to mention her name. That was -why----" - -"I know. I was foolish. Well, she's a pretty girl, and as good as she -is pretty." - -"Which is marvelous," said Brendon, "considering the fashionable -mother she has." - -Train smiled. "Mrs. Ward is certainly a leader of fashion." - -"And as heartless as any woman I know," observed Brendon. He glanced -affectionately at the yellow holly. "Dorothy gave me this to-night." - -"Did you see her before you came here?" - -"Yes. I went to afternoon tea. We--" Brendon examined his pipe -again--"we understand one another," he said. - -Leonard sprang to his feet. "My dear chap, I congratulate you." - -"Thanks! but it's too early for congratulation as yet. Mrs. Ward wants -her daughter to make a good marriage. George Brendon will not be the -husband of her choice, but Lord Derrington!" - -"Does she want her daughter to marry that old thing?" - -"You don't understand, Leonard. I mean that if I become Lord -Derrington when the old man dies Mrs. Ward will consent." - -Train sat down helplessly and stared. "I don't understand," he said. - -"I'll put the thing in a nutshell," explained Brendon. "Lord -Derrington is my grandfather." - -"Your--but he never lived here?" - -"No. The grandfather who lived here, and with whom I stayed, was my -mother's father. He was called Lockwood. Derrington is my father's -father. Now do you understand?" - -"Not quite! How can you become Lord Derrington when he has a -grandson--that young rip Walter Vane!" - -"Walter Vane is the son of my father's brother, and my father was the -elder and the heir to the title." - -"Then, if Lord Derrington dies you become----" - -"Exactly. But the difficulty is that I have to establish my birth." - -Leonard jumped up and clutched his hair. "Here's a mystery," he said, -staring at his friend. "What does it all mean?" - -"Sit down and I'll tell you!" - -Leonard resumed his seat and glanced at the clock. "We have a quarter -of an hour," he said, "but I think we'll defy Mrs. Jersey and sit up -this night." - -"No," said Brendon, hastily; "we may as well do what she wants. I wish -to conciliate her. She is the only person who can help to prove my -mother's marriage." - -"Humph! I thought there was something queer about her. Who was she?" - -"My mother's maid! But I had better tell you from the beginning." - -Train sat down and produced a cigarette. "Go on," he said; "no, wait! -I want to know before you begin why Mrs. Jersey was so struck with -that yellow holly?" - -This time it was Brendon who looked puzzled. "I can't say, Leonard." - -"Do you think she connected it with some disaster?" asked Train. - -"From her looks, when she set eyes on it, I should think so!" - -"Does Miss Ward know Mrs. Jersey?" - -"No. She knows nothing about her." - -"And it was Miss Ward who gave you the yellow holly?" - -"Yes. When I was at afternoon tea." - -"Then I can't see why Mrs. Jersey should have made such a spectacle of -herself," said Leonard, lighting his cigarette. "Tell your story." - -"I'll do so as concisely as possible," said Brendon, staring into the -fire. "My mother was the daughter of Anthony Lockwood, who was a -teacher of singing, and lived here. She--I am talking of my -mother--was very beautiful, and also became famous as a singer at -concerts. The son of Lord Derrington, Percy Vane, saw her and loved -her. He subsequently eloped with her. She died in Paris two years -later, shortly after I was born." - -"And you came to live here?" - -"Not immediately. I was but an infant in arms, but my father would -not part with me. He kept Mrs. Jersey--she was my mother's maid, -remember--as my nurse, and we went to Monte Carlo. I am afraid my poor -father was a bit of a scamp. He was at all events a gambler, and lost -all his money at the tables. He became poor, and his father, Lord -Derrington, refused to help him." - -"He was angry at the marriage, I suppose?" - -"That's the point. Was there a marriage? But to make things clear I -had better go on as I started. My father went to San Remo, and from -that place he sent me home to my grandfather Lockwood." - -"With Mrs. Jersey?" - -"No. By that time Mrs. Jersey had left; I had another nurse, and it -was she who took me to this house. My grandfather was delighted to -have me, as he always insisted that there was a marriage. I grew up -here, and went to school, afterward to college. My grandfather died, -but there was just enough money to finish my education. The house was -sold, and by a curious coincidence Mrs. Jersey took it as a boarding -establishment. Where she got the money I don't know. But I passed out -of her life as a mere infant, and I don't suppose she thought anything -more about me. Perhaps she recognized me to-night from my likeness to -my father, as she mentioned that she had seen my face before. But I -can't say." - -"What became of your father?" - -"That is the tragic part of the story. He was murdered at a masked -ball at San Remo. The assassin was never discovered, but it was -supposed to be some passionate Italian lover. My grandfather Lockwood -was so angry at the way in which his daughter had been treated that he -never stood up for my rights. I would not do so, either, but that I -love Miss Ward. Now, it is my intention to see Mrs. Jersey to-morrow -and get the truth out of her." - -"What does she know?" - -"She knows where the marriage was celebrated, and can prove that my -birth is legitimate. That is why I came here, Leonard." - -"Why did you not speak to her to-night?" - -"I think it is better she should be in a quieter frame of mind," said -Brendon. "She has never seen me since I was a small child, and my name -of Brendon is quite unknown to her." - -"Why do you call yourself Brendon?" asked Train. - -George began to pace up and down the room. "Pride made me do that," he -declared. "When my father was murdered at San Remo, Lord Derrington -denied the marriage, and refused to do anything for me. My grandfather -Lockwood gave me his own name, and I was called George Lockwood for -many a long day. At the age of fifteen Mr. Lockwood died, and then a -note came to my guardian saying that Lord Derrington proposed to allow -me a small income." - -"For what reason?" - -"I can't say. Perhaps it was remorse." - -Train shook his head. "I have met Lord Derrington, and if such an old -Tartar feels remorse, then there is a chance that pigs may fly." - -"That's an elegant illustration, Leonard," observed George, with a -smile; "but to continue (as I see it is nearly eleven), even as a boy -I felt the indignity put upon me. I refused, with the permission of my -guardian, the offered sum, and continued at school. When I left to go -to college I changed my name so that Lord Derrington should not have -the chance of insulting me further or of knowing who I was. My -guardian suggested Brendon, so as that was as good a name as another I -took it. Hence Mrs. Jersey can't possibly know me, or why I came to -see her. She will be wiser in the morning," added Brendon grimly. - -"But she evidently saw in you some likeness to your father." - -"Evidently. From all I have heard Mrs. Jersey was in love with my -father, even though she was only a lady's maid. But I know very little -about her. My business here is to learn. - -"But why has she kept silent all these years?" - -Brendon shrugged his shoulders. "She has had no inducement to speak -out," he said; "that is why I wish you to lend me three hundred -pounds, Leonard. She will require a bribe." - -"And a larger one than that, George. A woman like Mrs. Jersey would -not part with such a secret for so small a sum." - -"Oh, I can pay her what she demands when in possession of the estates. -But at present she will want to see the color of my money." - -Train stared into the fire meditating on this queer story, which was -quite a romance. Then he saw an obstacle. "George," he said, "even if -you prove that you are the heir you won't get any money. Lord -Derrington is still living." - -"Yes, and from all accounts he means to go on living like the -truculent old tyrant he is. But the estates are entailed, and must -come to me when he dies, and, of course, the title is mine, too, when -he is done with it. If Mrs. Jersey learns these facts, she will come -to terms, on a promise of money when I inherit." - -"Then you will speak to her in the morning?" - -"Yes. She is the only person who can right me. But I mean to be the -husband of Dorothy Ward, and my only chance to get round the mother is -to prove my legitimacy." - -"I don't think Miss Ward cares much for her mother." - -"Who could?" asked Brendon, cynically. "She is a worthless little -canary-bird. But I tell you, Leonard, that frivolous as Mrs. Ward -appears to be, she is a most determined woman, with an iron will. She -will make her daughter do as she is bid, and will sell her to the -highest bidder. As Lord Derrington's grandson and acknowledged heir, I -have a good chance. As George Brendon--" he stopped as the clock -struck eleven--"as George Brendon I am going to bed." - -Train rose to light the candles which stood on a side-table, yawning -as he did so. He was much interested in Brendon's story, but the -telling of it had tired him. "I shall sleep like a top to-night." - -"Well, get to bed. I'll put out the lamp," said George, and did so. - -"No," said Leonard, taking a candlestick in either hand. "I'll see you -to your virtuous couch," and he preceded him into the bedroom. - -It was a quaint apartment, with heavy mahogany furniture and a Turkey -carpet. Entering from the sitting-room, George saw that the bed was -directly opposite the door. "It's been moved since my time." - -"What?" cried Leonard, setting down the candles, "Is the furniture the -same your grandfather had?" - -"Yes. Mrs. Jersey bought the house and its contents. They are -old-fashioned enough in all conscience. Look at that ugly wardrobe." -He pointed to one against the inner wall and opposite the window. "The -mirror in that used to frighten me as a little chap. It looked so -ghostly in the moonlight. Humph! it's years and years since I slept in -my old bed," said Brendon, taking off his coat. "I should dream the -dreams of childhood now that I am back again. But you needn't say -anything of this, Leonard." - -"Of course not," replied the other. "And you need not smash your -yellow holly by leaving it in your coat all night. Put it in water." - -"No." George stopped the too officious Leonard. "Dorothy put it into -my coat, and there it shall remain. The berries are firm and won't fall. -I'll see to that. Hush!" - -"What's the matter?" asked Train, startled. - -For answer, Brendon quickly extinguished both candles, and pointed to -the door of the sitting-room, which stood half open. "Not a word," he -murmured to Train, grasping his wrist to enforce attention. "I heard a -footstep." - -The two men stood in the darkness, silent and with beating hearts. A -glimmer of light came from the fire and struck across into the -bedroom. Leonard listened with all his ears. He distinctly heard -stealthy footsteps coming along the passage, which was on the other -side of the wall against which stood the wardrobe. The footsteps -paused at the sitting-room door. They heard this open, and scarcely -dared to breathe. Some one entered the room, and waited for a moment -or so, evidently listening. Then the door was opened and closed again, -and the footsteps died away. Even then Brendon stopped Leonard from -lighting the candles. - -"Go to bed in the dark," he said softly. - -"Was it Mrs. Jersey?" asked Leonard. - -"Of course it was. She came to see if you were in bed." - -"But why should she?" - -"I can't say. There's something queer about that old woman. Get to -bed, Leonard. You can light your candle in your own room. I shall not -light mine." - -Train was bursting with indignation. "But it's absurd to be treated -like a couple of schoolboys," he said, taking his candlestick. - -"There's more in it than that," said Brendon, pushing him to the door. -"Get to bed, and make no noise. We can talk in the morning." - -Train darted across the sitting-room, and retired. Brendon closed his -door softly, and listened again. There was no return of the footsteps, -so he slipped into bed without relighting the candle. The clock in the -sitting-room chimed a quarter past eleven. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE NEXT MORNING - - -"Fogs and smokes and chokes," said the fat cook, her elbows on the -table, and a saucer of tea at her lips. "I wish I were back in Essex, -that I do." - -"The fogs come from there," cried Jarvey, who was page-boy in the -Jersey mansion, and knew more than was good for him. "If they drained -them marshes, fogs wouldn't come here. Old Rasper says so, and knows a -lot, he does." - -"He don't know Essex," grunted the cook. "A lovely county----" - -"For frogs," sniggered Jarvey, devouring his slice of bread. - -The housemaid joined in and declared for Devon, whence she came. The -Swiss manservant talked of his native mountains, and was sneered at by -the company generally as a foreigner. Jarvey was particularly -insolent, and poor Fritz was reduced to swearing in his own language, -whereupon they laughed the more. It was a most inspiriting beginning -to the day's work. - -The kitchen in the basement was a large stone apartment, and even on -the brightest of days not very well lighted. On this particular -morning the gas was burning, and was likely to continue alight during -the day, as the fog was as thick as ever. The servants collected round -the table were having an early cup of tea. To assist the progress of -digestion they conversed as above, and gradually drifted into talking -of their mistress and of the boarders. Miss Bull in particular seemed -to be disliked. - -"She's a sly cat, with that white face of hers," said the cook. "Twice -she said the soup was burnt. I never liked her." - -"Madame don't, either," said Jarvey, ruffling his short hair. "They've -been quarreling awful. I shouldn't wonder if Madame gave her notice." - -"Ah! Miss Margery will have something to say to that," chimed in the -housemaid; "she likes Miss Bull." - -"'Cause Miss Bull makes much of her, and no one else does." - -"Well, for my part," said the cook, "I'm always civil to Miss Bull, -though she is a cat. If the mistress died, Miss Margery would govern -the house, and Miss Bull governs her. I don't want to lose no good -situation through bad manners." - -"Madame ain't likely to die," said Jarvey; "she's as healthy as a -stray dog, and as sharp. I don't care for old Miss Bull, or for -stopping here, as I'm a-going to get a place as waiter at a club." - -"Ach, leetle boy, you will be no vaiter," said Fritz. - -"Shut your mouth, froggy," snapped Jarvey, and produced a cigarette. - -"Don't you smoke here, you brat," shrieked the cook, and, snatching it -from his mouth, flung it into the fire. "Here's Madame's tea. Take it -to her sitting-room. She's sure to be up and waiting." - -Jarvey showed fight at first, but as the cook had a strong arm he -thought discretion the better part of valor, and went grumbling up the -stairs. Mrs. Jersey was an early riser, and usually had a cup of tea -in her sitting-room at seven o'clock. After this refresher she gave -audience to the cook, looked over her tradesmen's books, and -complained generally that the servants were not doing their duty. -Madame was not at her best in the morning, and Jarvey went up most -unwillingly. The housemaid should have gone, but when she could she -sent Jarvey, and when he refused to go Fritz was dispatched to bear -the brunt of Madame's anger. She usually scolded Fritz in French. - -When the boy went the servants continued chatting and eating. It was -just on seven, and they were reluctantly rising to begin their duties, -when a crash was heard and then a clatter of boots, "There," cried the -cook, "that brat's been and smashed the tray. Won't Madame give it to -him? Mercy! mercy!"--her voice leaped an octave--"he's mad!" - -This was because Jarvey, with his hair on end and his face perfectly -white, tore into the kitchen. He raced round and round the table, his -eyes starting from his head. The servants huddled together in fear, -and the cook seized the toasting-fork. They all agreed with her that -the page was mad. Suddenly Jarvey tumbled in a heap, and began to -moan, with his face on the floor. "Oh! the blood--the blood!" - -"What's he saying about blood?" asked the scared cook. - -Jarvey leaped to his feet. "She's dead--she's murdered!" he shrieked. -"I see her all covered with blood. Oh--mother--oh, I want my mother!" -and down he dropped on the floor again, kicking and screaming. - -The boy was scared out of his life, and Fritz laid hold of him, while -the other servants, headed by the valiant cook, ran up the stairs and -burst into Madame's sitting-room, which was on the ground floor, and -no great distance from the front door. The next moment they were out -again, all shrieking murder and calling loudly for the police. The -sleeping boarders took the alarm, and in the lightest of attire -appeared on the stairs with white faces. The terrible word shrieked by -a dozen voices through the silent house curdled the blood in their -aged veins. What with the early hour, the fog, the gas, and the crying -of the servants, it was like a nightmare. - -An hour later the police were in the house, summoned by Miss Bull, who -alone of the boarders retained her head. As Margery, who was next in -command after her aunt, could not be brought to do anything, Miss Bull -took charge. It was Miss Bull who first ventured into the sitting-room -where Madame, huddled up in a chair drawn to the table, lay face -downward in such a position as to reveal a gaping wound in her neck. -And it was Miss Bull who sent the servants back to the kitchen, who -closed the door of the death-chamber, and who told Jarvey to fetch the -nearest policeman. Consequently it was Miss Bull whom the inspector -addressed, as she seemed to be the sole person in authority. Mrs. -Taine retreated to her bedroom with a prayer-book, Mr. Granger went -for a walk in the fog, Margery sat in a stupor, her eyes dull and her -slack mouth awry. The little old maid, from being a nonentity, became -a person of first-class importance. She displayed perfect tact and -self-control in dealing with the terrified old men and women, and no -one would have given her credit for such generalship. But the hour had -come for Miss Bull to assert herself, and she proved to be equal to -the occasion. - -"Now, then," said the inspector, when he had posted his men and was -alone with Miss Bull in the drawing-room, "what do you know of this?" - -Miss Bull, her face white and drawn, her eyes sharper than ever, and -her manner perfectly composed, shook her head. "I know absolutely -nothing," she said in her monotonous voice. "Last night we had our -usual reception, but it broke up at ten o'clock. Madame dismissed the -guests at that hour, and stood in the doorway to do so. I retired to -my bedroom with Madame's niece, and after a game of 'Patience' I went -to bed." - -"Does Mrs. Jersey's niece sleep with you?" - -"Margery? No! She sleeps in a room above. It was a few minutes to -eleven when she left me. I was in bed shortly after the clock struck -the hour. I am sure Margery had nothing to do with it. She was quite -devoted to her aunt, and as the poor girl has no money, I don't know -how she will live now that Madame is dead." - -The inspector thought for a moment. He was a tall, thin man, rather -military in appearance, and with a wooden, expressionless face, which -he found of great service in hiding his thoughts when examining those -he suspected. He certainly did not suspect Miss Bull, and seemed -inclined to make her his coadjutor. In proof of this he made her -accompany him to the room wherein Mrs. Jersey lay dead. - -"It's not far from the front door," mused Inspector Quex. "Could any -one have entered?" - -"No, I am sure of that," put in Miss Bull, emphatically. "Madame -always locked the front door every night herself and kept the key. It -could not be opened in the morning until she chose." - -"Who opened it this morning?" - -"I did. I knew that the key would be in Madame's pocket." - -"And it was?" - -"Yes. She must have locked the door as usual, and then have gone to -put the light out in her sitting-room before going upstairs." - -"Was that before eleven?" - -"I can't say. I did not leave my room after ten. But Margery may have -seen some one as she went up to her bedroom when she left me." - -"I'll question the girl," said Quex, and entered the sitting-room. - -It was of no great size, with one window, which looked out onto the -square. This was locked, and, even if it had not been, no one could -have climbed in, as Quex saw that the area was below. "And Madame -chained the area gate every night with her own hands," explained Miss -Bull, who was watching him. - -The inspector turned suddenly toward her. "It seems to me that the -deceased was over-cautious. Was she afraid?" - -"I think she was," admitted Miss Bull. "She had a habit of looking -over her shoulder, and, as I have stated, was particular as to bolts -and bars. But she was a secretive woman, and never said anything to me -about her fears, if she had any." - -"Were you great friends?" - -"No," replied the old maid, bluntly, "we were not. Madame behaved in -an extremely rude manner, and had she lived I should have given her -notice. I never liked her," added Miss Bull, with feminine spite. - -"You'll be all the more likely to speak the truth then," said Quex, -cynically, and turned to examine the body. - -Madame was still in the black-silk dress which she wore on the -previous night. Seated at the round center-table, she had evidently -been struck from behind, and killed before she had time to cry out. -Her arms were on the table, and her head had fallen forward. The -furniture of the room was not in disorder, the red table-cloth was not -even ruffled. The murder had been committed without haste or noise, as -Quex pointed out to Miss Bull. - -"Whosoever murdered her must have been a friend," said he. - -"It doesn't seem a friendly act to kill a defenseless woman," said -Miss Bull, looking coldly on the limp figure. - -"You don't quite understand. What I mean is that Mrs. Jersey knew the -person who killed her." - -Miss Bull shook her head. "I don't agree with you," she observed, and -Quex was astonished that she should dare to contradict. "She was -struck from behind, before she had time to turn her head." - -"Quite so. But the assassin must have entered the room, and unless the -deceased was deaf----" - -"Madame had particularly sharp ears." - -"Then that makes it all the more certain. Had any one unexpected -entered she would have been on the alert; there would have been a -struggle. Now we see that the furniture is not disturbed, therefore we -can argue from this that Mrs. Jersey was in friendly conversation with -the assassin. She was seated at the table, and the assassin was at her -back, which shows a certain amount of trust. In fact, Miss Bull, the -person who committed this murder was the last person Mrs. Jersey -expected to hurt her in any way." - -"She had no enemies that I knew of." - -"I talk rather of friends," said Quex, coolly. "You have not been -listening to my argument." - -"Oh, I quite understand. But I don't fancy that Madame had any friends -either. She was a woman who kept very much to herself." - -"Do you know anything of her past?" - -"Absolutely nothing. She took this house some fourteen or fifteen -years ago, I believe. I have been here ten, and was very comfortable, -save that Madame and I disagreed on many points. She was always rude -to me, and I don't think she was a lady." Miss Bull drew herself up. -"My father was a general," she declared proudly. - -But Quex was too busy examining the room to attend to Miss Bull's -family history. He searched for the weapon with which the crime had -been committed, but could find none. There was no blood on the -furniture, although some had trickled down from the wound onto the -table-cloth. The blow must have been struck strongly and surely, and -with the power of a deadly hatred. It was at this moment that the -doctor arrived, and, turning the body over to him, Quex conducted Miss -Bull back to the drawing-room, where he examined all who were in the -house. "Has any one left this morning?" he asked. Jarvey had seen Mr. -Granger go out, and said so. Even while he was speaking Mr. Granger -returned, and, filled with suspicion, Quex examined him first. - -Granger, when he saw what the inspector was bent upon, expressed the -greatest indignation. "How dare you accuse a gentleman of such a -thing?" he cried. "I went out to compose my nerves." - -"Into the fog?" asked Quex, doubtfully. - -"Yes, sir, and I should have gone out into snow and hail if I had -desired. There was no intimation that none were to leave the house. -Had a notice been given to that effect I should have remained." - -"I beg your pardon," said Quex, seeing that the old gentleman was -fuming, and seeing also that such a senile creature, with so sheeplike -a face, was innocent enough, "but it is my duty to be suspicious." - -"But not to accuse innocent people of a crime, sir." - -"No. But, for the sake of an example, will you tell me what you did -with yourself since leaving the drawing-room last night at ten?" - -"Certainly. I have no reason to conceal my doings, officer," said Mr. -Granger, angrily. "I retired to my bedroom at ten and to bed. The last -I saw of Madame she was standing on the door-step bidding farewell to -her guests. In the morning I was awakened by the news of the murder, -and went out to walk off the horror produced by the sight of that poor -woman." - -"Did you see the body?" - -"We all saw the body, till Miss Bull----" - -"I turned them out and locked the door," put in Miss Bull, sharply. - -"It was as well that nothing should be disturbed in the room till the -police arrived. That was my argument." - -"And a very good one," said Quex, approvingly. "You have a head on -your shoulders, Miss." - -"My father was a general," replied the old maid, nodding, "and I -inherit his talent for organization." - -The next witness examined was Margery, and she refused to open her -mouth unless she sat by Miss Bull. The old maid held Margery's hand -and coaxed her into answering when she proved recalcitrant. Quex could -not but admire the way in which Miss Bull managed the lumpish -creature. - -"You left the drawing-room with this lady?" he asked, indicating Miss -Bull, and speaking in a persuasive tone. - -"Yes. We played 'Patience' in Miss Bull's bedroom. I did it twice." - -"At what time did you leave?" - -"About eleven--just before it." - -"Did the clock strike the hour when you were in your own bedroom?" - -"No," said Margery, trying to collect her wits, "when I was in the -passage." - -"What were you doing in the passage? It would only take you a few -minutes to get to your room, would it not?" - -"Yes," put in Miss Bull. "My bedroom is on the second floor, and -Margery's is on the fourth, right above my head. You could easily have -got to your room before the clock struck, Margery. - -"I did try to," admitted the girl, "but my aunt kept me talking." - -Quex sat up. "Did you speak to your aunt at that hour?" - -"Yes. She met me walking up to my room, and scolded me for being out -of bed at that hour. I said I had been with Miss Bull, and----" - -"And Madame made polite remarks about me," said the old maid, grimly. -"Oh, I can well understand what she said. But it would seem, Mr. -Inspector, that Margery was the last person to see Madame alive." - -"We'll see," said Quex, who was not going to be taught his business -even by so clever a person as Miss Bull. "Was there any one else -about?" he asked Margery. - -"No. My aunt said that every one was in bed but me, and that she would -not have it. The clock struck eleven, and she called me names. She -then took me by the arm and pushed me into my room and locked the -door. Yes, she did," nodded Margery, vindictively; "she locked the -door." - -"Why did she do that?" asked Quex staring. - -"I don't know. I wasn't doing anything," grumbled Margery, "but she -said she wouldn't have me wandering about the house at all hours of -the night and locked me in. I couldn't get out this morning till Miss -Bull let me out." - -"Margery usually brings me my cup of tea," explained Miss Bull, "and -as she did not come this morning as usual I was anxious. When the -alarm came I went to look for Margery in her room. The key was in the -door, but the door was locked. I released Margery." - -"Oh, the key was in the door," mused Quex. "It would seem, then, that -the deceased simply turned the key and left it. Humph! I wonder why -she locked the girl in?" - -Miss Bull shrugged her thin shoulders. "It was spite on her part," she -said. "Madame never cared to see Margery with me." - -"Because I love you so," said the girl with an adoring look, and Miss -Bull patted her hand fondly. It was strange, thought the inspector, -that so clever and refined a woman should love so stupid and -coarse-looking a girl. But like does not always draw to like. - -While Quex was thus examining the witnesses, Train and Brendon were -seated in the sitting-room of the former, discussing the crime. -Brendon was gloomy, for in the unexpected death of Mrs. Jersey he saw -the downfall of his hopes of proving his legitimacy. "There's no -chance of my marrying Dorothy now," he said with a sigh. "I'll remain -plain George Brendon to the end of my days, and a bachelor at that." - -"It's awful!" gasped Leonard, who was white and haggard. "I never -expected that my search for types would lead me into the neighborhood -of a tragedy. Who could have killed her?" - -"I can't say." - -"I wonder if her death has anything to do with your affairs?" - -Brendon looked up suddenly and with a stern, flushed face. "Train," he -said sharply, "whatever you do, say nothing about what I told you last -night." - -"Yes. But what you told me might lead to the discovery of the -assassin." - -"I don't care if it does," said Brendon, angrily, and rising to his -feet to emphasize his determination, "you are to keep my confidence." - -"Oh, I shan't say anything. But do you think----" - -"I think nothing. But I am sure that my affairs have nothing to do -with this death. I came to see Mrs. Jersey, and this morning I should -have had the truth out of her. But she is dead, and so all my projects -go to the four winds. But I don't want them spoken of." - -"You can depend upon me," said Leonard, dominated by the strong will -of his friend. "But who could have----" - -"I tell you I don't know," cried George, restlessly. "How you do harp -on that subject." - -"It is the subject of the hour," retorted Train. "And a most -unpleasant one. Here I shall have to remain until that police-officer -questions me." - -"What story will you tell?" - -"Any story but the one I told to you," retorted Brendon. - -"Well," said Leonard, after a pause, "you can rely upon me. I shall -not say anything to get you into trouble." - -Brendon laughed, but not pleasantly. "My good fellow, I have done -nothing wrong. Even if my tale were told I could not be accused of -having to do anything with this murder." - -"Oh, I didn't mean that for one moment," protested Train, uneasily. - -"I know you didn't. Nevertheless, if this police inspector knew that I -told you he might get it into his stupid head that--well." Brendon -broke off abruptly. "I don't know what he mightn't think. However, I -shall answer his questions as to my visit here and then go away." - -"I'll go also," said Train with a shudder. "I can't stop here after -what has occurred. It's terrible. To think of that poor woman -murdered. How lucky I locked my door last night!" - -Brendon stopped in his walk and looked sharply at the young man. "Why -did you lock your door?" he asked surprised. - -"Well, you see, after Mrs. Jersey came into the sitting-room I didn't -like to think of her prowling about. One is so helpless when one is -asleep," and Train shuddered. - -"Did you expect her to murder you?" asked Brendon, derisively. - -"I didn't expect anything," retorted Leonard, rather nettled, "but I -didn't want her to come into my rooms, so I got out of bed and locked -the sitting-room door." - -"Not your bedroom door?" - -"No, the sitting-room door; so both you and I were quite safe from her -prying." - -Brendon looked steadily at Train and gave a short laugh. "Yes. As you -locked the sitting-room door she could as little enter as you or I -could go out. Leonard--" he paused and pinched his lip--"I do not -think it will be wise for you to tell the inspector this." - -"Why not? You and I are innocent." - -"That goes without the saying," answered George, sharply; "but the -less we have to do with this unpleasant matter the better. I suppose -we in common with every one else here, will be called to give evidence -at the inquest. Once that is done and Mrs. Jersey is safely buried I -wash my hands of the whole affair." - -Train shuddered. "So do I," said he; "I am the last man in the world -to wish to pursue the subject. But who can be guilty? It must be some -one in the house!" - -"I suppose so," replied Brendon, "unless Mrs. Jersey had a visitor -last night." - -"till have had," said Leonard. "When I locked the sitting-room -door, and that was about half-past eleven I think, I heard the closing -of the front door." - -"The deuce you did." - -"Yes, I put my head out and listened to see if all was quiet. I -distinctly heard the front door close." - -"She must have had a visitor," said Brendon, thoughtfully; "yet as she -alone could have let that visitor out, and as she must have been alive -to do so, the visitor cannot be the assassin." - -"The visitor might have killed her and then have closed the door -himself." - -"Himself? How do you know the visitor was a man? It might have been a -woman. Besides, Miss Bull told me that the door was locked as usual, -and that she took the key this morning to open it from Mrs. Jersey's -pocket. No, Train, the person who killed Mrs. Jersey is in the house. -But were I you I should say as little as possible to the inspector -about this." - -Leonard took this advice, and, when questioned, simply stated that he -had retired to bed at eleven and had heard nothing. Brendon made a -similar statement, and Quex saw no reason to doubt their evidence. - -He questioned all the boarders and all the servants, but could learn -nothing likely to throw any light on the darkness which concealed the -crime. No one had heard a noise in the night, no one had heard a -scream, and it was conclusively proved that every one in the house was -in bed by eleven o'clock; the majority, indeed, before that hour. -Jarvey had been the last to retire, at half-past ten o'clock, and then -he had left Madame in her sitting-room with a book and a glass of -negus. She sent him off in a hurry and with, as he expressed it, "a -flea in his ear"--being somewhat out of temper. It was thus apparent -that Margery, who saw Madame at the striking of the hour, was the last -person to see her alive. Mrs. Jersey went to her own sitting-room and -there had been struck down. - -"It was about twelve o'clock that she was stabbed," said the doctor, -after he had made his examination; "but I can go only by the condition -of the body. I should say a little before or after twelve. She was -stabbed in the neck with a sharp instrument." - -"With a knife?" said the inspector. - -"No," rejoined the doctor, decisively, "it was with a dagger--by a -kind of stiletto. It was not by an ordinary knife that the wound was -inflicted," and then the doctor who loved to hear himself talk, went -into technical details about the death. He proved beyond doubt that -Mrs. Jersey must have died almost immediately with hardly a groan. For -some reason Quex took one and all into the chamber of death and showed -them the corpse. Perhaps he expected that the sight would shake the -nerves of the murderer, supposing the murderer was among those who saw -the body. But no one flinched in the way he expected. Mrs. Jersey was -as dead as a door-nail, but no one knew and no one could prove who had -struck the blow. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A NINE-DAYS' WONDER - - -On account of its mystery the murder of Mrs. Jersey made a great -sensation. The season was dull, and there was nothing of interest in -the newspapers, therefore the mysterious crime was a godsend to the -reporters. They flocked in shoals to Amelia Square and haunted the -Jersey mansion like unquiet ghosts. Whenever any boarder went out for -a walk he or she would be questioned by eager gentlemen of the press. -Idle sightseers of a morbid turn of mind came to look at the place -where the crime had been committed, and pictures of the house appeared -in several papers. From being a peaceful neighborhood, Amelia Square -became quite lively. - -The boarders found all this most unpleasant. This rude awakening from -their sleepy life was too much for them, and the majority made -preparations to leave as soon as the inquest was over. Until then they -were under police surveillance and could not leave the neighborhood, a -restriction which in itself was sufficiently unpleasant. Brendon found -it particularly so, as he was anxious to get back to his own rooms at -Kensington and to his work. But even when he told Inspector Quex that -he was merely a visitor and knew nothing about the matter, that -zealous officer objected to his going. Perhaps, had Brendon insisted, -he might have gained his point, but he did not think it was worth -while to make the fact of his stay in the Jersey mansion too public, -and therefore held his peace. He stopped with Leonard as usual, but -the two men were not such friends as they had been. - -Why Train had changed toward him Brendon could not understand. But -ever since Leonard had been submitted to the ordeal of seeing the -corpse he had been an altered man. From being gay he was now dull; -instead of talking volubly, as he usually did, he was silent for hours -at a stretch, and he appeared to shun Brendon's company. George knew -that Train was impressionable and sensitive, and thought that the -sight of the dead and the ordeal of the examination had been too much -for his weak nerves. This might have been the case, but Leonard never -gave him the satisfaction of knowing if his diagnosis was correct. -After a time George ceased to ply him with questions, and contented -himself with the usual courtesies of life. But in his heart he felt -the change deeply. Fool as Train was, Brendon liked him sufficiently -to resent his altered demeanor. - -At the inquest nothing was discovered likely to elucidate the mystery. -The boarders all gave the same evidence they had already given to -Quex. Certainly it came out that Miss Bull had prophesied that Madame -would die a violent death, but when questioned on this point she -merely said that she had done so because the death card had been -turned up. Taken in conjunction with another card, according to the -reading employed by fortune-tellers, a violent death was assuredly -prophesied. But, as Miss Bull said, no one was more astonished than -herself at the speedy fulfillment of the prediction. "I told the -fortunes on that night for amusement only," she said, "as I do not -believe there is any sense in such things. It was mere chance, nothing -more. I am not a believer in cards as prophets." - -But the coincidence was so extraordinary that several of the -newspapers hinted that the old maid knew more than she chose to tell. -Miss Bull was up in arms at once, and, after consulting her solicitor, -threatened actions for libel until such statements were withdrawn. And -certainly, on the face of it, the accusation was absurd. The majority -of people who did believe in fortune-telling by the cards insisted -that Miss Bull was quite an adept. Several urged her to set up in -business, promising her their patronage, but the little old maid drew -herself up, and, mentioning that her father had been a general, -refused to entertain the idea. - -Beyond this episode there was little interest to be found in the -details of the inquest. It appeared that every one was in bed by -eleven, that every one had slept soundly more or less, and that all -were astonished and shocked when the tragedy came to light next -morning. Train could have created a sensation by stating that he had -heard the front door open after eleven; but, true to his promise to -George, he said nothing about this. Miss Bull, on the other hand, -declared that the front door was locked as usual, and that she had -taken the key from the dead woman's pocket to open it when the police -entered. It would appear that Mrs. Jersey had been murdered by some -one in the house. Yet not one scrap of evidence could be found to show -that any one in the house could possibly be guilty. The boarders were -all old, the servants all ordinary human beings, and no motive could -be assigned to any one person for the committal of so cruel a crime. -Moreover, the fact that the instrument used was a stiletto (and the -doctor held to that) showed that the crime must have been committed by -a foreigner. The only foreign person in the house on the night in -question was Fritz, the Swiss waiter. But he would not have killed a -fly, and, moreover, exculpated himself entirely with the aid of -Jarvey, in whose room he slept. The jury brought in a verdict of -murder against some person or persons unknown, and that was all that -could be done toward the elucidation of the Amelia Square crime. - -"There's only one thing that wasn't spoken of," said Quex, when he saw -the boarders in the drawing-room for the last time; "it seems that -Mrs. Jersey always put out the light above the door at eleven, or when -the guests departed. On this occasion it burned all night, and, as it -shines behind crimson glass, such a red window might be a guide to any -one who did not know the house, but who had been given that sign -whereby to distinguish it." - -"I can explain that," said Granger, who was present. "When Madame was -bidding farewell to her guests she thought that some of them might be -lost in the fog. Therefore she called out after them that she would -let the light burn later so that any might be able to retrace their -steps." - -"Well," said Quex, scratching his head, "that explanation is clear." - -"And there is no use for it," put in Miss Bull, "since the front door -was locked and no one entered the house on that night." - -"That's just it," said the inspector, sagaciously. "As all you ladies -and gentlemen are clearly innocent the crime must have been committed -by some one from outside. Now, is there any one to whom Madame gave a -latch-key?" - -"None of us had latch-keys," said Harmer. "Madame would not allow such -a thing." - -"Oh, I don't mean you, or those like you, Mr. Harmer. At your age a -latch-key is not necessary. But Mrs. Jersey may have given one to a -friend of hers who came to see her on that night. Had she any friend -in whom she would place such confidence?" - -"No," said Miss Bull, decisively. "She trusted no one that far. And I -don't think she had a single friend outside this house." - -"And very few in it," muttered Mrs. Taine, who on various occasions -had suffered from Madame's tongue. - -"In that case," said Quex, rising to take his leave, "there is nothing -more to be discussed. Who killed Mrs. Jersey, or why she was killed, -will probably never be known. Ladies and gentlemen, good-day," and the -inspector bowed himself stiffly out of the room, with the air of a man -who washed his hands of the whole concern. - -And, after all, what could he do? There was no proof likely to -indicate any one as the assassin, and since Leonard kept silent on the -point of the front door having been opened after eleven, it was -impossible to say that the criminal had entered the house. Had Mr. -Inspector known of this he might have made further inquiries; but he -knew nothing and departed extremely perplexed. The Amelia Square crime -was one of those mysterious murders which would have to be relegated -to obscurity for sheer want of evidence. - -"When are you going back to Duke Street?" asked Brendon as he took his -leave of Train. - -"This very day," replied the young man, gloomily. "I don't want to -stop a moment longer than I can help in this awful house." - -"I expect many of the others are of your way of thinking, Train. But, -so far as I can see, there is no hope of learning who killed the -woman." - -"If you had only allowed me to tell Quex about the door being opened -he might have traced the assassin." - -"I don't think so." Brendon shook his head. "It was a foggy night, and -whosoever entered would be able to slink away without being seen." - -"I am not so sure of that. There is only one outlet to the square, and -there stands a policeman on guard." - -"The policeman would not be there all the time," argued Brendon, "to -say nothing of the fog, which would hide any one desirous of evading -recognition, as the assassin assuredly must have wished." - -"All the same, I wish I had told Quex." - -"Well, then, tell him if you like," said George, vexed with this -pertinacity. - -"But you asked me not to." - -"Only because I fear, with your weak nature, that one question will -lead to another, until the whole of my private affairs will come to -light. I don't want those to be known at Scotland Yard, let alone the -chance that I might be accused of the crime." - -"Oh, that's ridiculous! You could not have left the sitting-room -unless I had let you out, and there is no door from your bedroom." - -"That is true enough," answered Brendon, with an ironical smile, the -significance of which was lost on Train. "But if the whole of my story -came to light you might be accused of helping me to get rid of the -woman." - -"I?" Leonard's hair almost rose on end. "How could I be mixed up in -it?" - -"Well, see here," argued Brendon, who thought it just as well to make -Train's own safety depend upon the discretion of too free a tongue. "I -tell you about this house, and on my recommendation you come here. I -come to stop with you and reveal my reasons for coming. These have to -do with the possession of a secret by the murdered woman. All that, to -a policeman, would be suspicious. What would be easier than for me to -go down the stairs and, when the woman refused to confess as to my -legitimacy, to stab her? Then I could return to my bed, and you could -prove an alibi on my behalf by your tale of having locked the -sitting-room door." - -Train shuddered. "I see how easily we can get into trouble. I shall -say nothing. I wish I had not come here. I shall go abroad until all -blows over." - -"Why," said Brendon, in scorn, "what is there to blow over? No more -will be heard of this matter if you hold your tongue. The inquest is -at an end, the woman will be buried shortly, and you will be back -leading your own life. So far as I am concerned you know that I am not -guilty, and that I could not have left my room since you locked that -special door. Then, as to hearing the front door open, that may have -been a hallucination on your part." - -"No. I am sure it wasn't. I heard distinctly." - -"Well--" Brendon shrugged his shoulders, but seemed uncomfortable--"I -dare say the assassin came and went in that way. But if he, or she, -did, the door was found fast locked in the morning, unless Miss Bull -is telling a lie." - -"She might be." - -"I don't see what she has to gain. But there's no use talking any -further. The matter is ended so far as I am concerned." - -"What will you do now?" - -"I am going to see Dorothy," said Brendon, "and tell her that there is -no chance of our marriage. Nor is there, for I cannot see my way to -prove my legitimacy. We must part, and I shall probably go down the -country for six months or so, to finish my novel and to get rid of my -heartache." - -Train remained silent, looking at the ground. Then he glanced at his -friend in a doubtful way. "What has become of your yellow holly?" - -Brendon produced it from his pocket. "It withered, so I took it out of -my coat and put it into this envelope." - -"Do you know if Miss Ward gave any one else a piece of yellow holly?" - -Brendon stared at this strange question. "Not to my knowledge. Why do -you ask?" - -Train shuffled his feet and looked down again. "It is an exceptionally -rare sort of thing," he said uneasily, "and its effect on Mrs. Jersey -was so strange that I wondered if she connected it with any trouble or -disaster." - -"You made the same remark before," said Brendon, dryly, "and we could -arrive at no conclusion. But in any case I don't see that Miss Ward -giving me the holly has anything to do with Mrs. Jersey's alarm--if -indeed she was alarmed." - -"I think she was," said Train, decisively, "and if I were you I would -ask Miss Ward why she gave you the yellow holly." - -"What would be the sense in that?" - -"You might learn why Mrs. Jersey was startled." - -Brendon laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Your active brain is -building up a perfect romance," he declared. "There can be no -connection between Dorothy and Mrs. Jersey." - -"Did she know you were coming to stop here on that night?" - -"Yes. I told her so when I met her in the Park in the morning. It was -then that she asked me to afternoon tea." - -"And at the afternoon tea she gave you the holly?" - -"Yes. You seem to think she did it on purpose that Mrs. Jersey----" - -Train interrupted him quickly. "It is you who are building up a -romance now," he said. "I never thought anything of the sort. But I do -say that the coincidence is strange." - -"What coincidence?" - -"That you should have in your coat a flower--I suppose one can call -berried holly a flower--which awakens unpleasant recollections in Mrs. -Jersey's breast." - -"In a word, Train, you fancy that an inquiry into the circumstances of -the yellow holly may lead to a detection of the assassin." - -"I don't go so far as that. But I should not be surprised if something -of that sort did eventuate." - -"Then you do go so far as that," said Brendon with a shrug. "However, -there is nothing more to be said. My advice to you is to hold your -tongue lest we should both get into trouble." - -"I am absolutely innocent." - -"So am I if it comes to that. All the same, the less said the better." - -Train shook hands with more cordiality than he had hitherto displayed. -"I'll be silent for my own sake as well as for yours," he said, and -the two parted, Leonard to pack up, and Brendon to journey with his -bag for Kensington. Both men were conscious of a relief when they took -leave of each other. - -"I wish he hadn't come here," said Train when Brendon departed. - -"I wish I had held my tongue," muttered George when he was in his cab. -"That fool seems to think I know something about this matter." - -Of course the economy of the mansion was disordered when the crime was -committed. But, thanks to the firm handling of Miss Bull, who now took -the reins which had fallen from the hands of Madame, a few days put a -different complexion on affairs. Margery knew where her aunt kept the -money, and Miss Bull made several of the boarders behindhand pay up. -Thus there was enough money to go on with, and Miss Bull decided to -wait until after the funeral, before deciding what she intended to do -herself. When Mrs. Jersey was buried her lawyer made his appearance -with the will. It was read to Margery, and Miss Bull stopped beside -the poor girl as the only friend she had in the world. The will was -short and concise, as it seemed that there was very little to leave. -The lawyer read it and then looked at Margery to hear what she had to -say. The girl simply stared at him blankly, as though not -comprehending his meaning, and Miss Bull touched her elbow. - -"Do you hear what he says?" she asked rebukingly. - -"Yes," replied Margery, "but I don't understand. Haven't I any money?" - -The lawyer would have read the will again, but Miss Bull held up her -hand. - -"She is stunned with grief," said Miss Bull, "and is not capable of -attending to business. Go and lie down, Margery, and I will speak to -this gentleman." - -"You do exactly what you like, dear Miss Bull," said Margery, rising, -and then turned to the lawyer. "Let Miss Bull do exactly as she likes. -I leave all in her hands." - -"The most sensible thing you can do," said the legal adviser under his -breath, and when Margery had left the room he turned to the old maid. -"Is she an idiot?" - -"By no means. But she is not very clever. I have taken a great -interest in her, as, to tell you the truth, Mr. James, she was badly -treated by her aunt. If you will explain the will to me I will see -what can be done to put things straight. I am sorry for the girl and -she is devoted to me." - -"It is lucky she has such a friend," said Mr. James, heartily. He did -not care much for Miss Bull, whose very presence seemed to inspire -mistrust, but she was acting very well on this occasion. Moreover, as -Margery was not likely to prove a lucrative client, Mr. James was -anxious to shuffle the business onto Miss Bull's shoulders and get out -of it as fast as he could. "What is it you wish to know?" he asked. - -"About this will," said Miss Bull, laying one thin finger on the -document. "Madame leaves to Margery Watson, her niece, the money in -the green box in her sitting-room, and also the jewels, which I -presume mean the diamonds." - -"Yes. Also, if you will recollect, the clothes of the deceased lady. - -"Is there nothing else?" asked Miss Bull, raising her black eyes -inquiringly. "What of the lease of this house?" - -"That is the property of Lord Derrington, and he only let the house to -Mrs. Jersey by the year." - -"Is not that rather strange?" - -"Very strange. But the whole connection of Lord Derrington with my -late client is strange. I know that she received from him an annuity -of five hundred a year and the lease of this house--by the year, -remember--from December to December. Now she is dead the annuity -lapses, and the lease naturally will not be renewed after next month." - -"It is now the end of November," said Miss Bull, quite composed. "I -understand you to say that the lease expires when December----" - -"It ends on the 31st of December," explained James, "and as Mrs. -Jersey is dead it will not be renewed. Lord Derrington, so far as I -know, has no interest in Miss Margery Watson." - -"What interest had he in Mrs. Jersey?" asked Miss Bull, scenting a -scandal, and her eyes brightening. - -"I can't tell you that, and if I could I would not." - -"Quite right. I beg your pardon for asking, but you see in the -interests of that poor girl I wish to know exactly how matters stand." - -"They stand as I tell you," said James, and rose to go. "I have -nothing more to do in the matter and my connection with the late Mrs. -Jersey ceases here." - -"One moment," said Miss Bull, quietly. "What of the furniture?" - -"That is also the property of Lord Derrington. He bought the house as -it stood from the executor of the last owner, Mr. Anthony Lockwood, -fifteen years ago. Mrs. Jersey wished to set up a boarding-house, so -Lord Derrington placed her in here. Every stick in the place belongs -to him. Should Miss Watson leave she goes with the jewels, the money -in the green box, and with her deceased aunt's clothes." - -"A very poor outfit to start life on at her age," said Miss Bull, -rising in her prim manner. "By the way, Mr. James, what is the name of -the late Mr. Lockwood's executor?" - -"Roger Ireland," replied the lawyer, looking rather surprised. "Why do -you ask?" - -"For my own satisfaction, Mr. James. If no one else will assist this -poor girl I shall do so. Good-day." - -James departed with a better opinion of Miss Bull, although at any -time he had no reason to have a bad one. But her manner inspired -mistrust, and, kindly as she appeared to be acting towards Margery, he -could not help thinking that there was more in her action than mere -philanthropy. "You're a deep one," thought James. "I shouldn't wonder -if we heard more of you." - -But so far as James was personally concerned he heard no more of the -little woman. Miss Bull collected the boarders in the drawing-room -after dinner and made a speech. She said that it was Margery Watson's -intention to keep on the house, and that the terms would be as before. -If any chose to stop they would be welcome, but those who decided to -go could have their bills made out at once. Having thus acted as -the mouthpiece of Margery, Miss Bull took the girl away to the -sitting-room of the late Mrs. Jersey, the very one in which the -tragedy had taken place. Margery was unwilling to enter, much less -hold a conversation there, but Miss Bull, who had no nerves to speak -of and a very strong will, laughed her out of this folly. - -"Now my dear Margery," she said, when the girl was seated, "I want you -to pay the greatest attention to what I am about to say, and to repeat -nothing of my conversation." - -"You are my best friend," said Margery, looking at the peaked white -face with adoring eyes. "I shall do whatever you say." - -"Good child," said Miss Bull, patting the hand that was laid -confidingly on her lap. "Listen, child. Lord Derrington is the owner -of this house, and he leased it to your aunt by the year--a very -strange arrangement, for which there ought to be some explanation. I -am going to seek it from Lord Derrington." - -"But he won't tell you anything, Miss Bull." - -The old maid tightened her thin lips. "I think he will," she said in a -rather ominous manner; "at all events, there is no harm in my trying. -With regard to the annuity----" - -"What annuity?" - -"I forgot--you don't know about that. Well, there is no need that you -should. But it seems that Lord Derrington allowed your late aunt an -annuity of five hundred a year. I don't know the reason why he did so, -and as such reason is not pertinent to matters in hand I do not wish -to know, but the annuity must lapse. It is not likely that Lord -Derrington will continue it to you." She paused and looked at the -girl. "Your parents are dead, I believe, Margery?" - -"Yes. For many years I have been with my aunt. She was my only -relative, dear Miss Bull." - -"All the better. I don't want other people interfering," said Miss -Bull in her icy way. "Well, Margery, I shall see if I can get Lord -Derrington to renew the lease to you, and I shall be your security. -With the money in hand--I have counted it, and with that in the bank -it amounts to two hundred pounds--we can continue the boarding-house. -A few of the boarders will go, but many will remain, as they will not -get anywhere so cheap a place. You will be the nominal head of the -house, but in reality I shall manage. Do you agree?" - -"I am your slave," cried Margery with melodramatic intensity. - -"You are my friend," said Miss Bull, her thin lips relaxing. "I am a -lonely woman, Margery, though I still have a surviving sister--" her -lips tightened again as she said this--"and I love you, my dear, for -your goodness. Well, we shall keep on the boarding-house, and you, -poor child, will be preserved from the terrible life which would -otherwise be your portion." - -"How good you are--how good you are!" - -"A little selfish also," said Miss Bull, kissing the girl. "I do not -wish to leave this place or lose you. I am growing old, and a change -would break my heart." - -She said this as though she really believed that she possessed such an -organ. Mrs. Jersey always said that a heart was lacking in Miss Bull's -maiden breast: but certainly the way in which the old woman was -treating the helpless girl showed that she was better than she looked. -And perhaps--as Mr. James considered--Miss Bull had an ax to grind on -her own account. - -However this might be, from that moment Miss Bull was in charge of the -Amelia Square establishment. Whatever means she used to induce Lord -Derrington to consent, she certainly managed to get the lease renewed -in Margery's name. Some of the boarders went; but others came in their -place, and these being younger added to the gayety of the house. So -all was settled, and Miss Bull became a person of importance. She was -the power behind the throne, and ruled judiciously. In this way did -she do away with the reputation of the house as a place where a crime -had been committed. In a year all was forgotten. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -A LOVERS' MEETING - - -Every one who was any one knew the Honorable Mrs. Ward. She was a -fluffy-haired kitten of a woman, more like a Dresden china shepherdess -than a mere human being. Nothing could be prettier than her face and -figure, and nothing more engaging than her manners. With her yellow -hair, her charming face, and her melting blue eyes, she managed to -hold her own against younger women. The late Mr. Ward, Lord Ransome's -son, had been a fast young man, devoted to the turf and to his pretty -wife. But he was killed when riding in a steeplechase two years -after his marriage, and left his widow alone in the world with one -daughter for consolation in her affliction. Mrs. Ward being in want of -money--for her deceased father had been a general with nothing but his -pay--played her cards so well with regard to her father-in-law, that -he allowed her a good income and thought she was the most perfect of -women. But Lord Ransome was the only one of the family who thought so, -for the other relatives fought rather shy of the pretty, pleading -widow. - -Not that Mrs. Ward minded. She characterized the women as frumps and -the men as fools, and, having enough to live on comfortably, set up a -house in Curzon Street. It was thought that she would marry again; and -probably she would have done so had a sufficiently rich husband with a -title been forthcoming. But somehow no one worth capturing ever came -Mrs. Ward's way, and as time went on she chose to assume the role of a -devoted mother, and--as she phrased it--to live again in her daughter. -This was quite wrong, as Dorothy Ward was a slim, serious-minded girl -of nineteen, not given to gayety, and was one who was anxious to marry -a husband with mind rather than with money. How frivolous little Mrs. -Ward came to have such a Puritan daughter no one ever could make out. -She resembled her mother neither in face, nor in manner, nor in -tastes. Mrs. Ward openly lamented that Dorothy was such a difficult -girl to manage, which meant that Dorothy had refused several good -matches, and had declined to be guided entirely by her mother's -opinion. When the Earl of Summerslea proposed and was not accepted, -Mrs. Ward was furious, but Dorothy said steadily that she would never -marry a brute with a title. - -"You'll marry any one I choose," said Mrs. Ward when the two were -discussing the matter. - -"Certainly not Lord Summerslea," rejoined Dorothy, steadily. - -"And certainly not that penniless George Brendon," retorted her -mother. "You shall not throw yourself away on him." - -"He is a good man and a clever man, and a man whom any woman might be -proud of winning, mother." - -"And a man with no money and no position. Who is he? What is his -family? No one ever heard of him." - -"They will one day, when he becomes famous." - -"Oh, as a writing-person. As though any one cared two pins about that -sort of thing. I want to see you a countess." - -"You shall never see me the Countess of Summerslea. I know all about -that man. He is bad and dissipated." - -"O Lord! as if that mattered," cried Mrs. Ward with supreme contempt. -"Your father was the same, yet we got on all right." - -"I am sure you did," said Dorothy, with bitter meaning, upon which -Mrs. Ward showed her claws. Her friends called her a kitten, but she -was a cat in reality and could scratch on occasions. But all her -scratching could not make Dorothy Lady Summerslea. - -Hating Brendon, and knowing that her daughter liked him, it was -supposed by Mrs. Ward's friends that the young man would be sent to -the right-about, and that Dorothy would be kept out of his way. But -Mrs. Ward knew her daughter too well to take such a disastrous course. - -"My dear," she said to an intimate friend, "if I did that, Dorothy is -just the kind of annoying girl to run away with him and live in a -garret. If I let them meet they will not think of marriage, and I dare -say Dorothy will get tired of Brendon. He is so shabby in his dress, -and so poor, that after a time she will cease to like him. No! No! -I'll let him follow her wherever he likes, and meet her on all -occasions. They will grow sick of one another." - -In an ordinary case this recipe might have answered. But Dorothy -respected as well as loved George Brendon, and, every time she met -him, grew to admire and love him more. Mrs. Ward became quite -exasperated, and redoubled her efforts to sicken Dorothy of the -"creature," as she called Brendon. She took to praising him on all -occasions, and sometimes asked him to dinner. At the same time she -constantly abused young Walter Vane, who was Lord Derrington's -grandson and heir. He was the man she wished Dorothy to marry, as one -day he would have a title and fifteen thousand a year. But in spite of -this Machiavellian policy Dorothy still continued to love George, and -expressed a hearty dislike for Walter Vane, whom she characterized as -a "weakling." - -"If he had only the grit of his grandfather I might respect him." - -Mrs. Ward turned pale under her rouge when she heard this. "Oh, no, -no! Lord Derrington is a terrible old man. Were Walter such as he is, -I should not ask you to marry him." - -"You would marry me to the Prince of Darkness himself if it suited -your purpose," said her daughter, calmly, from which speech it will be -seen that Miss Ward had small respect for her fascinating mother. - -The two did not assimilate, as their dispositions were so different. -Mrs. Ward complained that Dorothy was too religious, and Dorothy found -the frivolous world in which her mother moved dull beyond words. It so -happened that Dorothy stayed mostly at home or went out with one of -her aunts, who was something of her type, while Mrs. Ward enjoyed -herself at Hurlingham and Monte Carlo. The little woman always managed -to keep on the right side, as she had no notion of losing her position -in society, or the income which Lord Ransome allowed her; but within -limits she was extremely fast. She generally had a number of young men -at her heels, and made use of them in betting and in getting boxes for -the theaters, for suppers at the Cecil, and gloves, when nothing else -was to be had. But she managed all these things so discreetly that no -one had a word to say, and the general impression was that she was a -dear little woman with a stiff daughter--quite a trial. And if some -old frumps did praise up Dorothy and condemn the mother, they were in -the minority. - -Things were in this position when the murder of Mrs. Jersey took -place. Dorothy read about it in the papers, and knowing that George -had gone to stop in the house with Train, was extremely anxious to -hear particulars. She wrote to his Kensington address asking him to -call, but received no reply. Then she saw that he gave evidence at the -inquest, and two days later George made his appearance at the Curzon -Street house. Mrs. Ward, who had been voluble in her expressions -regarding Brendon's "love for low company," so she put it, sailed -toward him with open hands. She always welcomed Brendon in this -bright, girlish, kittenish way, as it was part of her scheme. She -thought so serious a man would never relish a frivolous mother-in-law, -and hoped to get rid of him in this way. But Brendon was too much in -love with Dorothy to mind the vagaries of her fashionable parent. - -"My dear Mr. Brendon," cried Mrs. Ward in her usual gushing manner, "I -am so glad to see you. The murder, you know. I saw your name in the -papers. How exciting! how romantic! Tell us all about it." - -"There is nothing to tell, Mrs. Ward," said George, glancing round the -room and seeing that Dorothy was absent. "All I know is set forth in -the papers." - -Mrs. Ward arranged herself on the sofa and laughed joyously. "Quite -exciting it is," she said. "I wonder who killed the poor woman, and -how did you come to be there on the very night she died?" - -This last question was asked sharply, and with a keen glance. George -was rather taken aback, but not thinking she had any intention in what -she said, answered, soberly enough: "I went to see a friend, Mrs. -Ward. It was unfortunate that I chose that night." - -"Well, of course you didn't know," said Mrs. Ward, artlessly. "But -fancy knowing any one living in an out-of-the-way place like that. But -you do know such queer people." - -George thought he knew none queerer than Mrs. Ward herself, but he -suppressed this speech as impolite. "My friend is Mr. Leonard Train." - -"Really! I think I have met him. His father made a fortune out of -mustard, or coke, or something horrid. What was he doing there?" - -"Looking for characters for a book." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Ward opened her eyes. "Did he find any?" - -"I believe so. But he has left the house now." - -"I should think every one would leave it after the murder," said Mrs. -Ward. "Dorothy will be down soon, but meantime tell me the whole thing -from your own clever point of view." - -She was so pertinacious that Brendon had reluctantly to yield. He -detailed events as they had been reported by the press, but concerning -the confidence of Leonard he kept silent. Mrs. Ward expressed her -disappointment when he finished. "You tell me nothing new." - -"I warned you that I would not," replied Brendon, wondering at her -petulant speech. - -"But surely you can throw some light on the matter?" said Mrs. Ward. - -Brendon shook his head. "I fear not. I went to bed at eleven and slept -soundly until I was awakened by the clamor." - -Mrs. Ward thought for a moment. "Does Mr. Train know anything?" - -"Nothing more than I have told you," declared Brendon, uncomfortably. -He disliked deviating from the truth even in the smallest particular, -but he dare not risk the story of his birth becoming public property. -It was strange, he thought, that Mrs. Ward should take such a profound -interest in this case. He had never before heard her talk on such a -subject. To add to his perplexity, he saw that, in spite of her rouge, -in spite of the shaded windows, she looked haggard. Yet it was -impossible that she could be connected with the matter in any way. He -ventured a leading question. "Why are you so anxious to know about -this case?" - -Mrs. Ward's reply rather astonished him. "I am not blind," she said -quietly, "and I know well enough that you admire my daughter. You are -poor, you are unknown, and should Dorothy marry you she would make a -very bad match." - -"I am aware of that," began George, "but----" - -"Wait," cried Mrs. Ward, raising her hand, "I have not yet done. -Notwithstanding all these disadvantages, I made up my mind to place no -bar to your union with my daughter, as she seems to like you----" - -"She loves me, Mrs. Ward." - -"Nonsense. Dorothy is too young to know the meaning of the word. I say -she likes you, so we can let it stand at that. But in spite of your -poverty and obscurity--" Brendon winced, for Mrs. Ward's tone was -insolent in the extreme--"I am not willing that you should marry -Dorothy, unless----" She hesitated. - -"Unless?" queried George, looking steadily at her. "Now we come to the -point. Unless your character is above suspicion." - -"What do you mean?" - -"You know well enough. Here you go to a low house, and while you are -there the mistress of it is murdered." - -George rose with some indignation. "Good heavens, Mrs. Ward, you don't -suspect me!" he cried. - -"Oh, dear, no. But it would be unpleasant for my daughter to have a -husband mixed up with such a shady affair." - -"I am not mixed up with it, Mrs. Ward." - -"It's unpleasant," said Mrs. Ward, willfully holding to her opinion. -"I don't like it. Find out who killed that woman and I say nothing. -But until you do find out, and until the assassin is brought to -justice, I must ask you to discontinue your visits to Dorothy." - -Brendon saw that she was simply making an excuse to rid herself of his -presence so as to leave the way clear for Walter Vane. But he was too -strong a man to be foiled in this way, and speedily made up his mind -how to act. "Shall we leave the matter to Miss Ward?" - -"That means you wish to see her," said the mother cleverly. "Oh, well, -there is no reason why you should not. But it will be for the last -time, remember. Your character must bear inspection." - -"I think it does," cried George, rather nettled. - -Mrs. Ward, who by this time was nearly at the door, turned lightly and -replied, in her most kittenish way, "Ah, my dear Mr. Brendon, I know -more than you think. Lola Velez----" - -"Lola Velez." George looked and felt uneasy. - -"You change color. Oh, I have heard all about you and that dancer." - -"I assure you that my connection with that lady is perfectly -innocent." - -Mrs. Ward scoffed. "Lady!" she said, sneering. "What next? However, I -do not wish to hear the particulars. Such creatures are nothing to me. -And if you clear yourself of this very shady business in Amelia Square -by discovering the true assassin, I shall overlook Lola Velez." - -"There is no need to overlook her or me." - -"I think there is," said Mrs. Ward, frigidly, and with a wave of her -slim hand. "There is no more to be said, Mr. Brendon. You know my -decision, and as Dorothy's mother I have some power, I hope. Now I -will send her to you, and you can say what you like--in fact, you can -communicate to her the state of my feelings. But," added Mrs. Ward, -shooting a Parthian arrow, "I should not mention Lola Velez if I were -you. Good-by, I shall not see you for many a long day, I expect." - -"And hope," said Brendon, much mortified. - -"And hope," replied Mrs. Ward, coolly. "You are the last man in the -world I should like for my son-in-law. Marry that dancer," and with a -shrill, unpleasant laugh Mrs. Ward vanished. - -Brendon paced the room, waiting for Dorothy. How Mrs. Ward had learned -of his connection with Lola Velez he could not understand. Brendon was -perfectly innocent, and what he had done for the dancer was dictated -by pure kindness. But even if he explained the whole circumstances of -his meeting and of his philanthropy to Dorothy, she was a woman, when -all was said and done, and might not believe him. On the whole, he -decided to take Mrs. Ward's advice and hold his tongue on the subject -of the dancer. On some future occasion he might be able to explain, -and at the present moment he had the satisfaction of knowing that his -conscience was clear. He had just arrived at this decision when -Dorothy entered the room. The next moment she was in his arms, and the -two entered Paradise at once. - -"My dearest, I am so glad to see you," said Dorothy in her soft voice -as they sat down. "I wrote, but you did not come." - -"I was engaged, darling." - -Dorothy nodded. "I know, at the inquest which was held on that poor -creature." - -"Why do you take an interest in the case, Dorothy?" - -"Oh, because you went to stop at the house, and it was so strange that -she should have died on that very night." - -"So your mother says," said George, uncomfortably. "I really think she -believes that I have something to do with the matter." - -"Oh, that's nonsense," said Dorothy, serenely; "but mother does not -like you very much, George, and----" - -"She hates me you mean." - -"Well," responded Miss Ward, candidly, "if you ask me to tell the -truth, I think she does. But you know what my mother is. I--no, if I -cannot say good of her, let me at least say nothing bad. But I love -you, George, you know that." - -"My own heart," and Brendon took her in his strong arms, thanking God -for the gift of so steadfast a heart. For a few minutes silence -reigned, and the lovers looked at one another with fond affection. - -Dorothy was tall and slim and dark, with a Spanish face of that -delicate, high-bred cast which is seen to perfection among the women -of Andalusia. Judging by her large black eyes, and the serious -expression of her lips, Dorothy Ward might have had Moorish blood in -her veins. Perhaps she had, as one of her father's ancestors, when -ambassador to Madrid in the reign of the first James, had brought back -with him a Spanish wife. And Dorothy inherited all the Iberian beauty -of that lady. She should have been called Inez, or Paquita, for the -purely English name of Dorothy suited her badly. That is a milkmaid's -name, and Miss Ward was more of the court than of the pasture. - -Her dark beauty contrasted well with the fair comeliness of George -Brendon, and seated side by side on the sofa they looked an extremely -handsome couple. Certainly they might have appeared happier, for -Dorothy was downcast, and in Brendon's blue eyes there lurked a -worried look. He was wondering how he could communicate Mrs. Ward's -decision to the girl. Dorothy looked at him and smiled. - -"A penny for your thoughts, George," she said, taking his hand. - -"I'll sell them as bankrupt stock," said Brendon, drawing her closer, -and then he took his courage in both hands for the necessary -confession. "This may be my last visit, Dorothy," he said. - -She looked at him in surprise. "Why do you say that?" - -"Your mother----" - -"Oh, never mind my mother," broke in the girl, petulantly. "I know she -objects to our marriage, so----" - -"On the contrary, she told me that she would not object if I could -clear myself of complicity in this crime." - -"George! Did she accuse you of----" - -"Not in so many words," interrupted the lover, "but I saw very plainly -what she meant. The fact that I slept in that house on the night Mrs. -Jersey was murdered is to her mind a proof that I have something to do -with the matter." - -"But you can prove conclusively that you have not," insisted Dorothy. - -"Certainly. Mr. Train, with whom I was stopping, can prove that I did -not leave my room. The key of the sitting-room door was in his -possession, and to get out I should have had to make use of him." -George paused and thought for a moment. "But there is one thing----" - -"What is it?" asked Dorothy, seeing that he hesitated. - -"I don't know if I ought to tell you." - -"Whatever concerns you concerns me," she said, pressing his hand to -her heart. "You know that I love you as dearly as you love me, and -nothing you tell me shall ever part us." - -"Oh, I don't think what I am about to say will have that effect," was -Brendon's reply, "but I have a confession to make about my--my birth." - -Dorothy looked at him in amazement. "About your birth?" she repeated. - -"Yes. You may as well know all, and I know you will not betray me, -even to your mother." - -"To her least of all," said Dorothy, vehemently. "Tell me quick." - -Encouraged by her faith, and by the tender clasp of her hand, George -related to her the story of his birth and of his connection with Lord -Derrington. Also he detailed how he had gone to seek Mrs. Jersey, and -how she had been murdered before he could get the truth out of her. -"Or even see her," finished George. "And now you know, dearest, why I -do not wish you to repeat this story. If your mother knew it she might -think--think--well, she certainly would not let you marry me." - -"She has made her mind up already so far as that is concerned," said -Dorothy, quickly. "It is Mr. Vane whom she wishes me to marry." - -"My cousin, although he does not know it," said George, quietly; "but -I want your advice, Dorothy, and will be guided by it. What shall I -do? You see, now that Mrs. Jersey is dead there is no chance of -getting at the truth." - -"Why not advertise?" - -"I have tried that for some months in every country paper in the -kingdom, but there has been no response. My father and mother must -have been married in some out-of-the-way village, in some lonely -church. The parson and those who know about the marriage may be dead. -In fact, it is extremely probable that they are. Mrs. Jersey was -present as my mother's maid, and she might have been able to tell me -where the church is. I only want to find the register of the marriage -and get the certificate. Then I shall see Lord Derrington and insist -on my rights being recognized. He can't leave either the title or the -money away from me." - -"Have you seen him at all yet?" - -"Not to speak to. But he was pointed out to me. I hear he is an old -tyrant." - -Dorothy shuddered. "A most terrible old man. He always reminds me of -one of those Italian despots. There is nothing he would not do -provided that the law could not touch him." - -"And I dare say, from your description, the things he desires to do -are of the kind that the law would make him answerable for." - -"George," said Dorothy, after a pause, "do you think he has anything -to do with this murder?" - -Brendon turned slightly pale and set his lips firmly. "No, dearest," -was his reply, but delivered with some uncertainty. "He does not -know--at all events from me--that I am seeking for a restitution of my -rights, and therefore would have no reason to rid himself of this -woman. Besides, I don't know if he is aware of her existence." - -It will be seen that Brendon was ignorant that Lord Derrington was the -owner of the Jersey mansion and had allowed Madame an annuity. Had he -known this much he might have been able to shape his course better; -but, being in the dark, he had to do the best he could with Dorothy's -assistance. He had asked for her advice and she gave it. - -"George, I should get back my birthright if I were you." - -"But I may be dragged into this murder case." - -"No. Mr. Train can save you from being accused of that. It is only -right that you should take your proper position in society. You know I -would marry you as you are, and defy my mother and the world. But you -owe it to your dead mother and to yourself to show that you have the -right to your father's name." - -"In that case I shall do what you advise," cried George, taking heart -from her firm tone; "and the first thing I shall do will be to see Mr. -Ireland. - -"Who is he, George?" - -"My guardian. He took charge of me after my grandfather Lockwood died, -and it was by his advice that I changed my name to baffle the -inquiries of Lord Derrington. He will know all about the marriage, and -may be able to indicate where my parents went when they eloped. I have -never asked him for a detailed statement, but I shall do so now. Once -I find a clew, I shall not rest until I prove my legitimacy. For your -sake, my dear--for your sake," and he kissed her. - -"And for your own," said Dorothy, as they rose. "I shall say nothing -to my mother or to any one, George. But tell me all that you do." - -"I shall make a regular report," replied Brendon, "but we will -probably have to meet elsewhere, as your mother has asked me to -discontinue my visits here." - -"I shall speak to her," said Dorothy, angrily. - -"No. Do not do that. She will only grow angry and make things harder -for you, my own heart. Good-by, and God bless you." - -They kissed and parted at the door. Brendon was just stepping out into -the hall when a thought occurred to him. He re-entered and closed the -door. "Dorothy," he asked, in a low whisper, "why did you give me the -yellow holly on that night?" - -She looked surprised. "It was to please you," she said softly; "and to -tell you the truth, George, I thought that the holly was a proof that -my mother was relenting toward you." - -"How do you mean, Dorothy?" - -"It was my mother who gave me the holly," she explained. "I came from -the Park and told her you were going to stop with Mr. Train, and that -she could set her mind at rest, as I should not see you for a few -days. She seemed pleased, and taking the yellow holly from a vase in -her boudoir she gave me a sprig, saying that I could give it to you -for consolation." - -"Did you tell her that you had fastened it in my coat?" - -"Yes. But she only laughed, and said it would please you. Why do you -ask me this, George?" - -"There is no reason for my asking," he replied, suppressing the truth, -"but yellow holly is rare." - -"Very rare. I don't know where my mother got the sprig." - -After this they parted, and Brendon walked thoughtfully away. Mrs. -Jersey had been startled by the sight of the holly. Mrs. Ward had -given the sprig to Dorothy, who had presented it to him. He asked -himself if there was a reason for Mrs. Ward's action. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -WHAT MR. IRELAND KNEW - - -After his disagreeable experience in the Bloomsbury district, Brendon -was not very anxious to go there again, but it was necessary that he -should do so if he wanted to see his guardian. From force of habit he -still continued to call him so, although Mr. Ireland had long since -ceased to act in that capacity. George had a sincere respect for him, -and frequently paid him a visit. Usually it was one of ceremony or of -enjoyment, but on this occasion the young man went in search of -knowledge. - -Ireland was an eccentric character who collected (of all things) -bill-posters. Most collectors turn their attention to stamps, to -snuff-boxes, to autographs, and such-like trifles; but Mr. Ireland -hunted for those gigantic and gaudy pictures which make gay the -thoroughfares of the city. When George entered the dull old house, in -an equally dull Bloomsbury street, he found the hall decorated with an -immense advertisement of Bovril. Proceeding upstairs he was met on the -landing by the famous cats who serve to draw attention to Nestle's -Milk, and finally entered a large room on the first floor, where Mr. -Ireland sat at his desk surrounded by a perfect art-gallery. Here was -Fry's Chocolate; there the Magic Carpet of Cook, and the wall opposite -to the three windows looking out onto the street was plastered with -theatrical advertisements, more or less crude in color and out of -drawing. These were not modern, but had been acquired by Ireland in -the dark ages when street art was in its infancy. The effect of the -whole was bizarre and striking, but George was too used to the -spectacle to pay much attention to the gallery. - -The room was very bare, so as to give space for the collection. Mr. -Ireland sat at a mahogany desk in the center, which was placed on a -square of carpet. Beside this desk stood a chair, and in one corner of -the room was a safe painted green. Other furniture there was none, and -what with the huge pictures, the bare floor, and the want of curtains -to the windows the effect was comfortless and dreary, but Mr. Ireland -did not seem to mind in the least. - -He was a tall old man with rather long white hair and a clean-shaven, -benign face. His unusual height did away with the impression of his -excessive stoutness, for he appeared to be as fat as Daniel Lambert. -George often wondered at his size, considering that the man ate -comparatively little. Mr. Ireland was dressed in glossy broadcloth -scrupulously brushed, and wore an old-fashioned Gladstone collar. He -had mild blue eyes, rather watery, and a large mouth with full red -lips. This hint of sensuality was contradicted by the serenity and -pallor of his face, and by his life, which was as correct as his dress -and as methodical as his hours. - -Never was there so methodical a man. He lived by the clock, and with -him one day exactly resembled another. He rose at a certain hour and -retired precisely when the hand on the clock indicated another. His -meals were always regular, and he had stated hours for walking, when -he went out, whether it was wet or fine, sunny or foggy. The man was -like a machine, and George, when living with him in his early days, -had often found these restrictions irksome. It was one o'clock when -Brendon called, and Mr. Ireland had just finished his luncheon. At two -precisely he would leave the house for his one hour's constitutional. -Brendon was aware of this, and had timed his visit accordingly. -Nevertheless, Ireland looked at his watch and mentioned the fact. - -"I can only give you an hour, George," he said. "You know my habits." - -"An hour will be sufficient," replied Brendon, taking the one chair. -"You are not looking very well, sir," he added, noting the fagged air -of the old man. - -"I have not been sleeping so soundly as usual," rejoined Ireland, -producing a box of cigars and passing them. "At my age, and I am now -seventy-five, I can't be expected to enjoy my bed so much as a young -person. Take a cigar." - -"The old brand," said Brendon, selecting one. - -"I never vary," replied his guardian, gravely. "Pass that matchbox, -George. Have you a light? Good. Now we can talk for the next -fifty-five minutes. What is it?" - -As time was short, and Mr. Ireland would be sure to terminate the -interview exactly at the stated hour, George plunged immediately into -the business which had brought him hither. "I wish to hear the story -of my parents," he said deliberately. - -The cigar fell from the fat fingers of Ireland, and he stared in -amazement at the young man. "It is rather late in the day for that, is -it not?" he asked, picking up the cigar and recovering himself. - -"Better late than never," quoted George, puffing a cloud of smoke. - -"A proverb is no answer," said Ireland, testily. - -"Then, if you wish to know, sir, I am in love." - -"That is no answer, either." - -"It will lead to a very explicit answer," rejoined the young man, -coolly. "Love leads to marriage, and in my case marriage cannot take -place unless I know that I am legitimate." - -"Of course you are. I have always maintained that you are." - -"What proof have you?" asked George, eagerly. - -Ireland hesitated and wiped his mouth in quite an unnecessary manner -with a red silk handkerchief. "Your father always declared that Miss -Lockwood was his lawful wife, and treated her with every respect." - -"Did my father ever tell you where the marriage was celebrated?" - -"No; I never asked, nor did your grandfather Lockwood. It was not till -after your mother's death that Lord Derrington denied the marriage. -Then Mr. Vane was in Italy and never troubled about the matter." - -"He should have done so, for my sake," said George, indignantly. - -"Certainly, and I urged him to do so," said Mr. Ireland, heavily. "I -was in Italy at the time, and you were only an infant in arms." - -"Who was my nurse then?" - -"Jane Fraser--the Scotch nurse who afterward brought you to your -grandfather Lockwood when Mr. Vane was murdered." - -"Do you remember the other nurse--the first one I had?" - -Mr. Ireland grew indignant, and puffed angrily at his cigar. "I do, -indeed," he said wrathfully, "a vulgar, forward hussy. She was not -bad-looking, either, and set up for being a lady." Here he began to -laugh. "Would you believe it, George, my boy, she was in love with -your father, and showed it so plainly that he was obliged to get rid -of her?" - -"What was her name?" - -"Eliza Stokes. And she was handsome in a bouncing way." - -"What became of her?" - -"I can't tell you," said Ireland, with sudden reserve. - -"Did you see her after she was dismissed?" - -Ireland turned his cigar slowly and did not look at George when he -replied. "Yes, I did. When and where it does not matter." - -"But it does matter--to me!" cried Brendon, anxiously. "It is to know -about her that I came here to see you to-day." - -"I thought you came about your birth," said Ireland, sharply. - -"That among other things." - -The old man looked down again and appeared to be in deep thought. He -was turning over in his own mind how much or how little he should tell -George. And the young man looked at him anxiously. Much depended upon -the speech of Mr. Ireland. At last the silence was broken, and by a -most unexpected remark. "I loved your mother," said Ireland. - -"I never knew that," said Brendon, softly, for he saw that the man was -moved at the recollection of some early romance. - -"I never spoke of it before," was the reply, and Ireland laid down his -cigar to speak the more freely. "Yes, I loved Rosina Lockwood with all -my heart and soul. I was not bad-looking in those days, George, and I -had a good income, but she preferred that scamp," and he struck his -hand heavily on the table, with glowing eyes. - -"You are talking of my father, sir," said Brendon, stiffly. - -"I ask your pardon. But if you wish me to tell the story of that most -unfortunate affair you cannot hope that I shall keep my temper. I was -very badly treated by--well--" with a glance at George, Ireland -nodded--"let the dead rest in peace." - -"I think it will be as well," said Brendon, coldly. - -Ireland again struck the table. His pallid skin became a deep crimson, -and his eyes flashed. George rose in alarm, for the old man struggled -to speak with such an obvious effort that he thought an apoplectic fit -would end the conversation. He hastily poured out a glass of water and -begged Ireland to loosen his neckcloth. But the man shook his head, -and going to one of the windows opened it. For a few moments he -inhaled the air, and returned to his seat more composed. "I beg your -pardon, George," he gasped, when he recovered his voice, "but if you -wish me to tell you anything you must not speak to me like that. I -have a bad temper." - -"I never knew that," said Brendon, in a soothing tone. "You were -always kind to me." - -"I have a superlatively bad temper," repeated Ireland, "but you were -her child. How could I be angry with her child? Wait! Wait, I shall -tell you all I can. Give me a few moments." - -He was so moved with emotion, and with the recollection of the past, -that he buried his head in his arms, which were resting on the table. -Brendon, respecting this feeling, walked to the end of the room and -stared at a picture which represented a star of the ballet. But he did -not see the saucy face, the twirling skirts. He was thinking how -strange it was that Ireland should never have confessed this love -before. Certainly he had never displayed such emotion. A change had -come over the man, whereby he more plainly revealed his feelings than -he was wont to do. George put this down to old age, and to less -self-control consequent on the same. Shortly he heard Ireland calling -to him, and returned to his seat to find the old man smoking quietly -and rather ashamed of his outbreak. "But you shall see no more of -that," he said. - -"I am sorry to be obliged to ask you for a story of the past," said -Brendon, apologetically, "but it means so much to me." - -"I'll tell you all I can," said Ireland, taking no notice of the -apology, but looking at the ash on his cigar. He paused for a moment -to collect his thoughts, and then began abruptly. "I first met your -mother at her father's house in Amelia Square, where I went to take -lessons in singing. Lockwood was famous for his method in those days, -and his fame was increased by the appearance of your mother, Rosina, -at many concerts. She was a most beautiful creature, and was as much -admired for her beauty as for her voice. Ah! what a voice. It was like -the trill of a lark, flexible and silvery, and with an immense range. -She was quite the rage for a season, and was called the English Jenny -Lind. Many offers were made to her for the operatic stage. I dare say -she would have accepted in the end had she not met with Percy Vane, -and he----" Ireland's hand clenched. - -"My father," said George, willfully disregarding this sign of temper, -"how did he meet her?" - -"He saw her at a concert and fell in love with her. Then he came to -take singing-lessons, with the voice of a frog. Bah! it was a mere -blind. It was Rosina Lockwood he was after. I saw it--oh, yes! The -eyes of love are keen, and, although Rosina would not waste a look on -me, I watched her every action. Many a night have I paced Amelia -Square watching her window. When she sang I was entranced, when she -smiled----" Here the old man shook his head and made an effort to -recover himself. - -Brendon saw that the recital was painful to him, and but that he was -so anxious to get at the proofs of his birth would have asked him to -desist. But there was too much at stake for such consideration to be -shown. "Go on," he said softly, and Ireland resumed. - -"Percy Vane was a handsome man, and rich. I warned Lockwood that he -was in love with Rosina, but the old man would not heed. He was -flattered by the attention Rosina received. All through that season -Vane was in attendance on Rosina. At the end of it he eloped with -her--yes. He met her outside St. James's Hall and they eloped." - -"Where did they go to?" asked Brendan, eagerly. - -"That I cannot say. Rosina wrote three weeks afterward from Paris, -signing herself Vane, and stating that she was the wife of Percy." - -"Was my grandfather angry?" - -"Yes and no. He was angry that he should have lost her, for she was of -use to him as an advertisement of his method of singing, and also she -earned a great deal of money. The house in Amelia Square was large and -required a good deal to keep it up. Besides, Anthony Lockwood was -extravagant. That was why you were left so badly off." - -Brendon shrugged his shoulders. "It was good of my grandfather to -leave me anything," he said, "but in what way was my--Mr. Lockwood, -pleased? You hinted that he was not quite angry." - -"Well," said Ireland, slowly twirling the cigar in his fingers, "you -see he was flattered that his daughter should have married into the -aristocracy." - -"Then there was no question of the marriage, then?" - -"No. Lord Derrington said nothing till your mother was dead, and even -then he said very little. It was when Vane was murdered at San Remo -that he first decisively asserted that no marriage had taken place. He -did so because Lockwood insisted that Derrington should acknowledge -you as the heir. He refused to do so, and said that his second son was -the heir." - -"That is Walter Vane's father?" - -"Exactly. And now the father is dead, Walter Vane stands in your -shoes. I wish you could prove the marriage, my boy," said Ireland, -shaking his head, "but it will be a difficult task." - -"I don't care how difficult it is," replied Brendon, resolutely. "I am -determined to learn the truth." - -"Who is the lady?" asked Ireland. - -"Miss Dorothy Ward. You don't know anything of her." - -Ireland shook his head. "I left the adoration of the aristocracy to -Lockwood," he said, with something like a sneer, "but that's neither -here nor there, my boy. To make a long story short, I met your mother -in Paris, and shortly afterward she died, giving birth to you. Eliza -Stokes was with her when she died, and you were given into the charge -of that woman. Your mother was buried in Père la Chaise. Vane put up a -stone to her--oh! he behaved very well, I don't deny that," added -Ireland, but with a dark face; "he was really fond of her. And I -suppose there was a marriage." - -"Did my mother ever say anything about it?" - -"Never. You asked me that before. It was an accepted fact. After the -death of Rosina her husband went to Italy. I was there, too, and it -was at Milan that the episode occurred which led to the dismissal of -Eliza Stokes." - -"What was that?" - -"Why, there was a young English waiter, quite a boy he was, who fell -in love with Eliza when she was taking charge of you at the Hôtel de -Ville. She refused to marry him and hinted that she loved your father. -Vane heard of this and taxed her with impertinence. The end of it was -that Eliza said too much and was dismissed. And Jane Fraser was sent -from England by Vane's mother to nurse you. That looks as though Lady -Derrington believed in the marriage." - -"It does," admitted Brendon, hopefully. "She would not have sent a -nurse had anything been wrong. On the other hand, if she had been -quite certain about the marriage she might have offered to take charge -of me." - -"She did, I believe, but your father was so fond of you--for your -mother's sake--that he could scarcely bear you out of his sight. -However, Eliza went, and Jane came, and then your father went to San -Remo. You were then two years of age." - -"Did not my father return to England during all that time?" - -"No. When he left England with your mother he never returned. She died -in Paris, and, with you in charge of a nurse, Vane wandered about the -Continent. I was twice in Italy and saw him--the second time it was at -San Remo." - -"If you disliked my father so much, why did you seek him out?" - -"To see you, George. You were her child, and I loved Rosina so -dearly." Ireland stopped, gulped down his emotion, and proceeded more -calmly: "Yes, I was at San Remo when your father was murdered." - -"You never told me that before," said Brendon. - -"I never told you anything before," replied Ireland, dryly. "And I -should not tell you now, but that my health is getting so bad that I -may not live long. I have an incurable disease, which will sooner or -later carry me off--no, I don't want sympathy. Let me finish the story -and then we need not refer to it again. I had intended to leave a -written statement behind me for you, George, but this is better, as -you can ask me questions about what you do not understand." - -"I understand all so far," said George, thoughtfully. "But about this -murder, Mr. Ireland? Who killed my father?" - -"That was never discovered. He went to a masked ball and was seen -leaving the room in the company of a blue domino. His body was found -on the stones of the beach early next morning. He had been stabbed to -the heart." - -"With a stiletto?" asked Brendon, recollecting the manner of Mrs. -Jersey's death. - -"Yes. Hence it was supposed that he had been stabbed by some jealous -Italian, who had followed him and the lady. But the truth was never -known. I think myself that Vane was murdered on the parade and that -his body was thrown over onto the beach. The man who killed him must -then have taken away the lady." - -"Who was the lady--the blue domino?" - -"No one ever learned. She was cloaked and masked. Your father was a -gay man, George, and it was rumored that he was in love with the wife -of a certain officer. It might be that the husband--but of course I -cannot say. The blue domino may not have been the woman in question. -The whole thing is a mystery. Your father's body was taken to England, -and as Lord Derrington refused to acknowledge the marriage, Lockwood -took charge of you." - -"I remember, and Jane Fraser was my nurse for many years. She was at -San Remo when the murder took place?" - -"Yes, and so was Eliza Stokes." - -"What was she doing there?" - -"Well, this waiter--by the way, his name was George also, although you -were called after Lockwood's father--well, George Rates, seeing that -Eliza was dismissed, got her a situation at a hotel in San Remo. He -came there also during the season, and I believe the two married. But -Eliza Stokes never came near your father." - -"What became of her afterward?" - -Ireland hesitated. "I can't say," he said. - -"But I can," observed George, coolly. "She was murdered the other day -at the Amelia Square house as Mrs. Jersey." - -"I heard of that crime. But how do you identify Eliza Stokes with Mrs. -Jersey?" - -"My old nurse, Jane Fraser, told me. When I began these inquiries I -looked up Jane, who now lives in a little Essex village. She told me -all she could, which was not much. But she stated that when here one -day, on a visit to you, she had met Eliza Stokes and in spite of her -age and gray hairs she had recognized her. Eliza told her that she was -called Mrs. Jersey and had taken a boarding-house in Amelia Square. I -then determined to speak to Mrs. Jersey, whom I thought might have -been present at the marriage, or at all events might know where it had -been celebrated." - -"It is probable she did," said Ireland, "as she was with your mother -as maid when the elopement took place. Did you see Mrs. Jersey, or -Eliza Stokes as I still regard her?" - -"I saw her, but she was murdered before I could manage to speak to her -on the subject. Did you know----" - -"I know that Eliza Stokes had changed her name to Mrs. Jersey and was -in Amelia Square," said Ireland, "but I only learned this the other -day." - -"Who told you?" - -"A woman called Miss Bull," said Ireland. - -"Miss Bull," repeated George. "I remember, that was the boarder who -foretold a violent death to Mrs. Jersey. But you read about that in -the papers." - -Ireland nodded. "I did," he said; "and I also saw that you were in the -house when Mrs. Jersey was murdered. You were a witness." - -"I can tell you about that. I----" - -"There is no need to tell me. I have not the time." Ireland looked at -his watch. "In ten minutes I leave for my walk." - -George remonstrated. "But this is so important." - -"Not so important as my health. I can give you only the ten minutes, -George. This Miss Bull called to ask me about the lease of the house -to Mrs. Jersey. I knew nothing about that. When Lockwood died I sold -the house to Lord Derrington----" - -"What--to my grandfather?" - -"Yes. But had I known he was the purchaser I should not have let -him have it. He bought it through an agent. Since then I heard -nothing more about the house. I did not even know it was a -boarding-establishment until it appeared as such in the papers the -other day. I wondered what you were doing at the inquest----" - -"I can explain." - -Ireland held up his hand. "I need no explanation. I know that Mrs. -Jersey was really Eliza Stokes. I gathered that from the description -given by Miss Bull in the course of our conversation. My suspicions -were aroused by the fact that Lord Derrington had leased the Amelia -Square house to Mrs. Jersey." - -"Why did he do that?" George spoke more to himself than to Ireland. - -"Well," said the old man rising, "it is my belief that Lord Derrington -knows there was a marriage, and assisted Mrs. Jersey so that she -should hold her tongue. Now there is no more time. I must go out," and -Ireland walked to the door. - -George followed, knowing it was vain to attempt to turn him from his -purpose, as the old man was most obstinate. "One moment," he said, on -the door-step; "this blue domino connected with my father's -murder--was she never traced?" - -"No. There was no means of tracing her. Except that she wore a piece -of holly she carried no distinguishing mark." - -"Holly!" cried George, astounded. "Yellow holly?" - -"Yes. I don't know how you come to mention it, but the holly worn by -the blue domino with whom your father went away had yellow berries." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE RED MAN - - -As Brendon was in the neighborhood of Amelia Square he paid a visit to -the boarding-house. Having learned from Ireland that Miss Bull had -informed him how Lord Derrington was connected with the late Mrs. -Jersey, George thought it just as well that she should be questioned. -Certainly Miss Bull, who appeared to be a dour and secretive sort of -person, might not speak. On the other hand, if he could induce her to -be frank he might learn from her--presuming she knew--the reason why -Lord Derrington had leased the Amelia Square house to Mrs. Jersey. It -was a forlorn hope, but Brendon was so eager to learn the truth that -he clutched even at this straw. Therefore, on leaving Ireland, he -turned his steps in the direction of the boarding-house. Much as he -disliked entering it again, it was necessary that he should do so. - -On his way Brendon meditated on Ireland's remarks about the holly. He -remembered the agitation of Mrs. Jersey when she saw the sprig in his -coat. She had been at San Remo when his father was stabbed, and -Ireland had mentioned that the woman with whom the deceased man had -left the ballroom wore a sprig of yellow holly. Had the berries been -red, George might not have thought so much of the matter; but yellow -holly is comparatively rare, and evidently Mrs. Jersey's alarm had -been caused by her recollection of the murder. The sight of the holly -had revived her memory. - -"I wonder if she had anything to do with the murder," mused George as -he turned into Amelia Square. "Could she have been the woman in the -blue domino? Certainly she was a servant and my father would have had -nothing to do with her. But at the ball she would wear a domino and be -closely masked. But even so, by what means could she have induced my -father to leave the room with her? I don't suppose she murdered him -herself, for she had no reason to do so, unless it was jealousy, which -for a woman in her position was absurd. Bah! I am making a mountain -out of a mole-hill. Eliza Stokes probably never went to the ball and -had nothing to do with the blue domino or with the matter of the -crime. From what Ireland says, however, a piece of yellow holly was -mentioned in connection with the murder, and Mrs. Jersey, then Eliza -Stokes, probably heard of it. That was why she shivered and turned -pale when she saw the sprig in my coat." - -Having thus decided the question, though not in a very satisfactory -way, George rang the bell and was admitted into the house by Jarvey. -The boy welcomed him with a grin, as George had given him half-a-crown -when he left the mansion after the inquest. "Miss Bull, sir, yes, -sir," said Jarvey, "step this way," and he introduced Mr. Brendon into -the sitting-room in which the murder had taken place. It was empty, -but Jarvey departed immediately to fetch Miss Bull. - -George knew the room well. It had been used by his grandfather as a -breakfast-room, and many a meal had he enjoyed at that very table. As -the furniture had been sold to Lord Derrington, together with the -house, the table was the very article of furniture at which Mrs. -Jersey had been stabbed when seated. Brendon looked from the table to -the door, and wondered if the assassin had entered stealthily, with a -bared weapon, and had stabbed the wretched woman before she had time -to turn her head. But on second thoughts he was inclined to think that -the assassin had been in friendly conversation with Mrs. Jersey before -inflicting the fatal stroke. Even in the short distance between table -and door Mrs. Jersey would have had time to spring to her feet and -give the alarm. "No," thought George, as he seated himself, "what I -said to Train is correct. The assassin engaged Mrs. Jersey in friendly -conversation, and then watched for an opportunity to strike from -behind." - -He would have continued trying to puzzle out the circumstances of the -crime but that Miss Bull entered, accompanied by Margery. The little -old maid looked whiter and more haggard than ever, but her eyes -gleamed brightly, and she seemed to be in perfect health. Margery, now -being the nominal head of the house, appeared more important, but she -kept her eyes on Miss Bull's face, and in all things took her orders -from this superior being. Miss Bull was a despot, although kindly -enough, and Margery was her slave. - -"How are you, Mr. Brendon?" said Miss Bull, smiling in her prim way, -but without offering her hand. "I did not expect to see you again." - -"Why not?" asked George, quickly. - -Miss Bull shrugged her thin shoulders and fastened her beady eyes on -his face. "Many of the boarders left on account of Madame's murder, so -I thought you had done the same." - -"I was only a visitor, Miss Bull. Had I been a boarder I should not -have left. The murder did not scare me." - -"No," replied Miss Bull, indifferently, "I don't suppose it did. I -only talked for the sake of talking." - -Brendon knew this was untrue, as Miss Bull was not a woman to waste -words. Besides, the old maid's eyes were fixed with a certain amount -of curiosity on his face, and he could not conceive why this was so. -He was rather embarrassed how to begin the conversation, especially as -Margery was present. Something of this showed itself in his manner, -for Miss Bull drew Margery's hand within her own and nodded affably. -"Miss Watson is the head of the house," she said. "Do you come to see -her or me, Mr. Brendon?" - -"I come to see you," said George, hoping she would send the -inconvenient third away. But she did nothing of the sort. - -"In that case Margery can stop as my friend, Mr. Brendon. Anything you -say before her will go no further. She keeps my secrets." - -"Always! always!" cried Margery, her eyes on the old maid. "I would -rather die than reveal your secrets, Miss Bull." - -"Rather tragic, my dear, rather tragic," replied the elder, patting -the hand she held. "I have really no secrets worth revealing. A lonely -old woman, Mr. Brendon, solaced by the friendship and devotion of this -lonely girl." - -Margery, who had flushed at the rebuke, stopped and kissed the old -maid's hand. Miss Bull patted her head and turned cheerfully to her -visitor. "Yes, Mr. Brendon?" she said in an interrogative manner. -Again George felt awkward, but judged it best to plunge into the -middle of the matter and get it over as soon as possible. "You called -to see a certain Mr. Ireland," he said, "about the lease of this -house. I have to come to ask you why you did so." - -Miss Bull stopped patting Margery's hand and her lips tightened. "I -don't see what business that is of yours," she said tartly. - -"On the face of it, Miss Bull, I admit that the question sounds -impertinent. But I am anxious to learn something about Mrs. Jersey's -early life, and since you know something----" - -"I know nothing," interrupted Miss Bull, quickly, "absolutely nothing. -I came here as a boarder many years ago, and, as is my custom, I kept -myself to myself. Madame and I did not get on well together. She was -not a lady." - -"Do you know what she was?" asked Brendon, shrewdly. - -"I have already said that I know nothing," replied Miss Bull, coldly. - -Evidently it was impossible to learn anything from so secretive a -woman. Nevertheless, George tried another tack. "Do you know if Mrs. -Jersey left any writings behind her?" - -He asked this because it struck him that Mrs. Jersey might have been -tempted to write out her relations with the Vane family. It was -apparent that Lord Derrington had given her a lease of the house to -silence her about the possible marriage, so for the sake of her niece -Mrs. Jersey might have left some confession which would secure its -renewal. And that the lease had been renewed was evident from the fact -that the boarding-house was still being carried on in the old way, and -by the niece. - -Miss Bull did not reply to this question herself. "That is not my -business," she said; "Miss Watson took possession of her aunt's -papers." - -"They were in a green box," said Margery, artlessly. - -"What did they consist of?" asked Brendon. - -"You need not answer that question, Margery," said Miss Bull, quickly, -and from that moment, Margery preserved a lumpish silence. George rose -in despair. - -"You will not help me," he said, taking up his hat. - -"So far as I can see there is no reason why we should help you," was -Miss Bull's reply, and she rose in her turn. - -Brendon saw nothing for it but to go, yet he hesitated to abandon the -chance of learning something from Miss Bull. He stared at her pinched, -white face and wondered if it would be any good appealing to that love -of romance which is inherent in the heart of every woman. Old and -withered as Miss Bull was, she might soften under the influence of a -love-tale. Brendon disliked telling his business to strangers, -especially anything regarding Dorothy, whom he looked upon as a sacred -vestal not to be lightly mentioned. However, so much was at stake that -he determined to speak openly, on the bare chance of Miss Bull -yielding. But he could not speak in the presence of the girl Margery. -She was such a sullen animal that to mention his love in her presence -would be like casting pearls before swine. He therefore turned to Miss -Bull, who stood with folded hands, eyeing him frigidly. "If I could -see you alone," said Brendon. - -Miss Bull cast a shrewd glance at him, rapidly made up her mind and -told Margery to go. The girl looked at him tigerishly, as she was -evidently jealous, and sulkily withdrew. When the door was closed -Brendon resumed his seat, but Miss Bull remained standing. This was -not a good sign; but George was now committed to a certain course and -had to follow it. - -"Miss Bull," he said deliberately, "what I am about to tell you, being -my own private business, I must ask you to keep to yourself." - -"I don't want to hear it," said Miss Bull. "I never care for other -people's secrets." - -"This is not a secret, Miss Bull. It is merely that I am engaged to be -married." - -"Indeed, and what interest can that have for me, Mr. Brendon?" - -"This much. You are a woman and must feel interested to a certain -extent in a love romance. I am aware that I am appealing to you in a -way which you may regard as foolish, but I am so anxious for certain -information, and, from what Mr. Ireland said, you alone can give it. -To put the thing in a nutshell--I am in love, and you can forward my -marriage if you will." - -Miss Bull heard him in silence, but as he talked a faint crimson -flushed her face and a softer light shone in her hard eyes. She put -her hand to her heart, as though she felt a cruel pain, and sank into -a chair. Alarmed by her pallor, which had now returned, George would -have called for assistance, but she stopped him. "I shall be all right -shortly," she muttered in faint tones. "Marriage, love, what have I to -do with such things?" She paused, and then continued, her voice -gathering strength as she proceeded, "Who is the bride, Mr. Brendon?" - -"She is not a bride yet; she never may be," replied the young man, -gloomily, "for if she does not become my wife she will accept no one -else. I can trust her implicitly. Her name is Dorothy Ward." - -Miss Bull rose with an ejaculation and her face grew red. "Is her -mother the Honorable Mrs. Ward who married Lord Ransome's son?" - -"Yes. Do you know her?" asked George, surprised at her emotion. - -"I have heard of her," replied Miss Bull, resuming her seat with -feigned indifference, but with barely concealed agitation. "Dorothy -Ward. A handsome girl. I have seen her in the Park." - -"She is as good as she is beautiful," cried Brendon, enthusiastically. - -"I'll take your word for that," said Miss Bull in a softer tone. "Mr. -Brendon, I will help you. Don't ask me why. Perhaps it is on account -of your romance; perhaps because--because--" her hand clenched itself -and she fought down an outburst--"no matter. I will do what I can to -forward the marriage. What do you wish to know?" - -"About Mrs. Jersey." - -"In relation to Lord Derrington?" - -"Yes. He was the landlord of this house, I believe." - -"He was and is. It was leased to Mrs. Jersey, furniture and all, by -the year." - -"By the year," said Brendon, surprised. "Why not a seven-years' lease -in the ordinary way?" - -"I cannot say. I am only telling you what Mrs. Jersey's lawyer told -me. Lord Derrington bought this house from Mr. Ireland with the -furniture as it stood, and as it stood he gave it to Mrs. Jersey. She -turned it into a boarding-house some fifteen years ago. I don't think -she added or took away any furniture. It is in the same condition as -when it left Mr. Ireland's hands. And he, I believe, sold it on -account of the last owner." - -"He did," admitted George. "The last owner was Mr. Anthony Lockwood; -he was----" George had it in his mind to state that Lockwood was his -father. But the time was not yet ripe for such a disclosure, and he -said nothing at the moment. "He was a singing-master," he finished -rather lamely. "Mr. Ireland told me all about him." - -"That is all correct, so far as I know, Mr. Brendon. I dare say you -wish to know why I saw Mr. Ireland. I did so on behalf of Margery -Watson, as I wanted the girl to continue the boarding-house. I like -the poor creature, and when her aunt died she was left very badly -off." - -"Didn't Mrs. Jersey leave any money?" - -"No. She lived principally on an annuity from Lord Derrington." - -"Ah!" said Brendon, his suspicions becoming more and more confirmed, -"so he allowed her an annuity. Why?" - -"I can't tell you that. But with the death of Mrs. Jersey the annuity -naturally ceased. I asked Mr. Ireland about the lease, and then sought -out Lord Derrington. I represented to him the position of Margery -Watson, and he was good enough to renew the lease in her name, on my -security." - -"Still by the year?" asked George. - -"Still by the year. So now the poor girl can live." - -"You are a good woman, Miss Bull, to help her in this way." - -"I am not good," cried Miss Bull, vehemently. "God knows I have enough -sins to repent of. Don't call me good, Mr. Brendon. I am only a -desolate old woman who has had a hard life. I should have been married -and settled, but--but"---- She shook her head and the tears came into -her hard eyes. "God help me, I have had sorrows, and will have them -till I die." - -"That shows you have a good heart," said George, alluding not to her -sorrows, but to her actions toward Margery. "Well, Miss Bull--" he -rose--"you have told me what I want to know. I hope to make use of it. -In return for your confidence I should tell you----" - -"Tell me nothing," cried the old maid, quickly. "I don't wish to hear -your secrets. The less said the soonest mended. When Miss Ward becomes -Mrs. Brendon," she added with a dry smile, "you can send me a piece of -wedding cake." - -"She will not become Mrs. Brendon," said George, shaking his head. "I -will be frank with you, Miss Bull. My name is not Brendon." - -She rose from her seat and looked at him steadily, perusing every line -in his face. "I thought I had seen some one like you before. I see -now--now--don't tell me your name is--is--but it's impossible." - -"My real name is George Vane. I am Lord Derrington's grandson." - -The little woman looked at him wildly for a moment and then quietly -slipped to the ground. She had fainted in real earnest, and George -rang the bell for assistance. Margery, who had evidently been lurking -outside, rushed in. When she saw her friend extended pale and lifeless -on the carpet she turned on George with a furious face. - -"What have you been doing to the poor darling?" she demanded, -"you--you." She raised her hand to strike, but Brendon caught her by -the wrist. - -"I have been doing nothing," he declared, quelling the rage of the -she-bear by the power of his glance. "Miss Bull fainted unexpectedly. -Thank goodness here is some one." - -It was one of the servants, but Margery waved her off. "No one but -me--no one but me!" she cried, and took the slender form of her friend -up in her arms. "Wait here," she added to George. "I'll be down soon." - -When she left the room George looked at the servant, who was a quiet, -respectable old woman. "Is that girl mad?" he asked. - -"She's queer, poor soul, sir," replied the woman, "and entirely -devoted to Miss Bull. And well she may be for it is Miss Bull who -manages the house. The girl is a natural, sir." - -"She looks like it," replied George, sitting down. "You can go. I -shall wait here until Miss Bull recovers." - -"Yes, sir," replied the woman, and departed. But as she closed the -door George heard her muttering something to herself about the danger -of Margery's claws scratching him. - -Brendon did not feel very comfortable on this point himself. He saw -that Margery was a kind of untamed animal who had been brought into -subjection by Miss Bull. No other person could manage her, and should -she return, still in a passion, Brendon feared lest she should use -physical violence. Still he held his ground, as he was anxious to -learn how the old maid was feeling, and still more anxious to find -out, if possible, why she had fainted on hearing his name. "I wonder -if Mrs. Jersey told her anything," muttered George as he looked out of -the window; "but that's impossible. Mrs. Jersey would keep her own -secret so as to terrorize over Derrington. Besides, Miss Bull declared -that she recognized my face. I wonder if she knew my father, and if -she can throw any light on the murder. It is strange that she should -be connected with the matter and live in the same house as Mrs. -Jersey. Upon my word," said George, in disgust, "it seems as though -there were a gang of shady people here connected with my affairs. And -she was moved by the mention of Dorothy's name. I wonder what that -meant?" - -But whatever it did mean he did not learn that day. Margery returned -and stated that Miss Bull was better, but was too faint to resume the -conversation. She begged Mr. Brendon to call another day. Margery gave -this message in quite a friendly way, and nodded smilingly to the -astonished George. "You are better disposed toward me," he said, -taking up his hat. - -"Miss Bull told me to be kind to you," she declared, still smiling; -and then, with a burst of good nature, "I will be kind. Do you want to -know about the papers?" - -"If you choose to tell me," said George, artfully, but rejoicing at -the opportunity this offered of learning something. - -"Yes, I do choose," said Margery. "She asked me to be kind to you." - -"Well, then, tell me," replied George, humoring her. - -"There was a lease in the green box, and many bills," said Margery, "a -few photographs, and that was all. I couldn't see the story." - -"What story, Miss Watson?" - -Margery nodded with a cunning smile, and answered, in a whisper, as -though her aunt was still alive and within hearing. "She told me it -was a story she was writing. Oh, such a long story! Sheets and sheets -of a story--foolscap sheets. She kept them in a long blue envelope and -would not let me see them." - -George reflected that evidently Mrs. Jersey had been writing out an -account of her early life, and Margery's next words put the matter -beyond a doubt. "My aunt said that she would let me have the story to -read after she died. But I could not find it in the green box." - -"Perhaps you did not look thoroughly," suggested George. - -"Yes, I did, and I looked in all other places. But I could not find -it. The story was Italian," went on Margery, staring at him, "for when -my aunt wasn't looking I peeped. San Remo is in Italy, isn't it?" - -"I believe so," replied George, more and more convinced that Mrs. -Jersey had left a confession behind her. "Did you tell Miss Bull?" - -Margery nodded. "She said I wasn't to say a word about it. But she -will not be angry at my telling you. She likes you, and says you are -like some one she once knew and loved." - -Brendon did not pursue the conversation. He was afraid lest Margery -might say too much and Miss Bull might be angry. And it was necessary -that he should keep on good terms with Miss Bull. Evidently she had -known his father; she may even have loved him. But George had heard so -much that day that his brain was quite bewildered, and he wanted to be -alone to think the matter out. Only one last request he made of -Margery. "Will you show me the photographs which were in the green -box?" he asked persuasively. - -"I can't," she replied, drawing down her lip like a child; "Miss Bull -has them. But she'll show them to you," brightening, "for she likes -you. I like you too. You are so handsome." - -With a laugh and a blush at this naïve compliment George left the -house, promising to call again. With his head filled with many -thoughts consequent on his two interviews, he emerged from Amelia -Square and walked down to Oxford Street. A shout aroused him from his -day-dreams as he reached the corner. He saw a tall, red-headed man -crossing the road, and a cab was bearing down on him. The man stood -paralyzed in the center, and it was apparent that the horse would soon -be on him. George, almost without thinking, dashed into the street, -and, seizing the animal, reined it back on its haunches with a -powerful hand. There was a shout of admiration from the throng on the -footpath, a few oaths from the driver of the hansom, and the next -minute the red-headed man was thanking his preserver on the pavement -and shaking his hand violently. - -"Don't you think I'll forget it, sir," he said with rather an American -accent. "You have saved Bawdsey, and Bawdsey can help you at a pinch." - -Brendon was too bewildered by this extraordinary address to take it -all in. Besides, the admiring crowd pressed around. Seeing this, -Bawdsey took him by the arm and ran him round the corner into a quiet -street. George recovered and looked at the man he had saved. - -He was a tall man with a thin face, though his body was rather stout. -His hair was red, his eyes were blue, and he had an alert manner about -him which made Brendon wonder how such a sharp person ever came to -place himself in the position of being run over. But Bawdsey gave him -no time to think. "What is your name?" he asked. - -"George Brendon." - -Bawdsey stepped back, and a look of genuine surprise overspread his -freckled face. And he was apparently more astonished than he showed, -as Brendon guessed by the trembling of his hands. "I have lived over -fifty years in the world," said Bawdsey, "and this is the queerest -thing I ever dropped across. And I drop across many queer things, -stranger." - -"Well, Mr. Bawdsey, if that is your name," said George, -good-humoredly, "it is a good thing I have saved your life. But you -seem as though you could--" - -"I can--I can," interrupted Bawdsey, anticipating the remark. "But -have you ever heard of that disease--fear of open spaces?" - -"No," replied Brendon, "what is it?" - -"I shan't give you the medical name," said Bawdsey, "as you would not -understand. But it is a dread to cross any open space. At times it -takes me unexpectedly, and I get a sort of paralysis of the will and -cannot move. That was why I stopped in the middle of the road. I -should have been killed but for you." - -"Perhaps I had better see you home, then," said Brendon. - -"No. I shall take a cab. It is only now and then that the thing takes -me. It can't be cured and maybe it will get worse. At present it does -not prevent me attending to my work. Come home with me and I'll tell -you more. I live in No. 43 Amelia Square." - -"What, in that house?" cried George, for this was the number of the -Jersey mansion. - -"Yes. What do you know of it?" - -"Nothing." - -"Oh, yes, you do; but you won't trust me. However, I'll see you again, -and I'll trust you. Take care of Lola Velez. She means you harm." - -The next moment he was gone, and George was staring after him. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -A BACCHANTE - - -Lola Velez was the rage for a season. She sprang into fame in a single -night, and thenceforth held an undisputed position as the favorite of -the London public. She was not exceptionally handsome, nor was her -dancing distinguished by any special grace; but about her there was -something weird and original, which appealed to her audience. Such an -extraordinary dancer had never been seen on the stage. She capered -like one in a frenzy, with mad leaps and bounds, and throughout her -orgiastic performance behaved as one possessed. It was not so much the -poetry of motion as the madness of movement. George Brendon had been -instrumental in introducing her to the public, and she owed her -position as much to his kindness as to her own genius. - -It was a snowy winter's night when Brendon found her. He had just -entered Pembroke Square, where he had lodgings, when he heard a moan. -Turning aside into the shadow of a wall he found a woman lying there, -exhausted with cold and hunger. Always anxious to do good, he brought -the poor creature to his rooms. Under the influence of food and wine -and warmth she revived sufficiently to tell her story. - -Her name, she stated, was Lola Velez. She was Spanish by birth, but -had lived many years in Italy. Trained as a dancer, she had appeared -at several of the best theaters with more or less success; but owing -to her violent temper she had lost all chance of gaining a permanent -position. But that Lola was rendered weak by privations she would not -have told George the exact truth; but she confessed to her temper, to -a certain episode connected with the stabbing of a woman of whom she -was jealous, and to the many quarrels which had resulted in her being -thrown out of employment. Finding Italy too hot to hold her, she had -danced her way to Paris through various small towns, but here, as -elsewhere, her temper proved her ruin. Then she had crossed the -Channel, only to find that the market was overstocked with dancers. -Unable to obtain employment, and having very little money, the -unfortunate woman had fallen lower and lower, until she was reduced to -begging in the streets. Finally she was turned out of her poor -lodgings and had expended her last sixpence on food. It was shortly -after this that Brendon found her. - -He acted the part of a good Samaritan. Giving her a sovereign; he sent -her away, restored in a measure to her right mind. The next day he saw -the proprietor of a music-hall, with whom he was acquainted, and -procured her an engagement in a ballet. It was a Dresden china piece, -and the violent dancing of Lola was by no means suited to the Watteau -costumes and stately dances of the powder and patches type. But the -manager--a shrewd Jew called Kowlaski--saw in his new recruit the -possibilities of success. He staged a ballet adapted from "The -Bacchanals" of Euripides, and Lola danced the part of Agave, the -mother of Pentheus, who is rendered insane by Bacchus. - -Her success was immediate. She enacted the part with a reckless -abandon and a wild frenzy which thrilled the house. For the moment -Lola was not herself, but the wild Theban Queen raging in the orgies -of the Wine-god. All London came to see the frantic revels over which -Lola presided, and night after night the little music-hall was filled -to overflowing. Lola made good use of her fame. She insisted that her -salary should be raised, took modest lodgings in Bloomsbury, and, for -a time, saved her money as a provision against old age and poverty. On -the stage she was a dancing demon, but at home no one could have been -more modest. There was not a breath of scandal against her, in spite -of Mrs. Ward's hint to Brendon. - -This change in the formerly reckless woman was caused by love and -gratitude to George. He had saved her from starvation, from death, he -had procured her the engagement which had led to her success and -present ease, and, figuratively speaking, she cast herself and all she -had at his feet. Brendon found this excessive gratitude rather trying. -Even then he was in love with Dorothy, whom he had met twice or -thrice, and he was not disposed to accept the wild passion which Lola -so freely offered to him. He tried to make her see reason, to look -upon him as a friend and not as a lover, but in her insane way she -resolutely refused to regard him as other than the man she intended to -marry. In spite of her tempers and her wild career Lola had never -erred, and so far Brendon could well have made her his wife. But he -did not love her, and hardly relished the idea of taking this wild -creature to his heart and home. - -Lola could not understand this coldness. She was accustomed to see men -at her feet and to spurn them. Now that she was willing to surrender -her liberty and to give her love, it exasperated her to think that the -one man she had chosen would have none of her. As yet she knew nothing -of Brendon's love for Dorothy, but with the instinct of a jealous -woman guessed that some such passion engrossed the mind of the man she -desired to marry. Again and again she deluged George with questions, -which he always refused to answer, so she could learn nothing. Wearied -of her persistency, Brendon stopped away, and for a few weeks Lola did -not see him. She followed him to his rooms, but found him absent. Then -she saw his name in the papers connected with the Amelia Square -tragedy, and wrote to him. He accepted her invitation and came to -supper, less because of her desire than because he wished to speak to -her about Bawdsey. The name of Lola Velez on the lips of the red man -had startled Brendon almost as much as the fact that Bawdsey appeared -to be acquainted with him. George could not recall meeting the man, -and as he was not yet sufficiently famous for his name to be on the -lips of the public, he wondered how it came about that Bawdsey knew of -his existence. Anxious to know who the man was, he sent a note, marked -private, to Miss Bull, and received a reply stating that Mr. Bawdsey -was a new boarder, and, so far as she knew, a gentleman who lived on -his income. But this did not satisfy Brendon, as it did not account -for Bawdsey's knowledge. There remained Lola to question, and to Lola -George went a night or two after the rescue of the red man. George -made up his mind, and a strong mind it was, that he would not leave -Lola until he knew positively how her name came to be mentioned by -Bawdsey. - -At eleven o'clock Lola was anxiously awaiting his arrival, and when he -entered her little sitting-room she flew to kiss his hand, her usual -extravagant form of greeting. George, like all Englishmen, hated -scenes, and these Lola was always making. In vain had he tried to -break her of these melodramatic tendencies. Her hot Southern blood -would not cool, and she overwhelmed him with protestations of more -than friendship. Of these he took no notice, and as it takes two to -make love as well as to make a quarrel, Lola was yet far from gaining -her heart's desire. This was a formal offer of marriage. - -Having just returned from the music-hall, Lola wore a loose tea-gown -of scarlet trimmed with glittering jet. It was a bizarre garment, but -the vivid color suited her dark face and Southern looks. She was -rather tall, very slender, and she moved with the dangerous grace of a -pantheress. Her face was oval, sallow and thin, with ever-changing -expressions. She was never two minutes the same, but her prevailing -mood was one of fierce intensity. The smoldering fire in her great -black eyes blazed into passionate love as she swept forward to greet -her visitor. - -"My deliverer, my adored!" she cried in moderately good English, and -kissed his hand with burning lips. - -George snatched it away. "Don't, Lola. You know I hate that sort of -thing!" And so saying he threw down his coat and hat on the sofa at -the far end of the room. - -Lola shrugged her shoulders and coiled up a tress of her black hair -which had come loose. Putting it in its place, she glanced into the -mirror over the fireplace to see that her comb was at the right angle. -She wore a diamond comb in the Spanish fashion. So fond was she of -jewels that George sometimes fancied she must have Jewish blood in her -veins. All her savings went in jewels--diamonds for choice. "They are -pretty," Lola would say when Brendon remonstrated with her, "and when -I am poor they can be changed into money. Oh, yes, why not?" - -"Ah, but you are a cold blood, you English man," she said in allusion -to Brendon's action. "But what would you--it is the fogs and cold -snows. Come, my friend, to the table--to the table." - -She clapped her hands, and seizing George by the arm forced him into a -seat. The supper looked very tempting. Lola had an eye for the -beautiful, and arranged the table herself. A tall silver lamp with a -pink shade shed a roseate light on the white cloth, the glittering -crystal, and the quaint silver spoons and forks. Lola had picked up -these things at odd times and displayed very good taste in her -selection. In the center of the table was an oval silver dish filled -with pink roses. "What extravagance!" said George. - -"Ah, bah! I got them from San Remo--from a friend of mine," said Lola, -removing a dish-cover; "they cost me not one sou. George, my dear -friend, the Chianti is in the flask there, and this macaroni? Eh?" -George passed his plate. The viands were cooked in the Italian -fashion, and there was a foreign air about the supper which was -grateful after a long course of English cooking. What with the foreign -dishes, the pink-shaded lamp, and the candles likewise in pink shades -on mantelpiece and sideboard, George felt as though he were in a Soho -restaurant. The night was cold, he was hungry, and the supper, with -its surroundings, was novel. He therefore made a good meal. Lola -watched him eat with satisfaction. - -"Ah, you like my housekeepers," she said, meaning housekeeping; "it is -to your mind. Yes? Eh, my friend, I could feed you as fat as pigs if -you would but allow me." - -"I don't want to be fat," retorted George, reaching for the Chianti. -"Give me a cigarette, Lola." - -She produced her own case, and not only supplied him with one, but -insisted on placing it between his lips and on lighting it. George -wriggled uncomfortably, but it was no use objecting to Lola's ways. -She would indulge her whims at any price. And he did not wish to leave -until he had accomplished his mission. - -"There, little friend," cried Lola, when he was seated comfortably by -the fire and she was puffing also at a cigarette, "now we must talk. -Why have you not been? Oh! you wicked young boy!" - -"I have been engaged," replied George, secretly admiring the careless -grace with which she was half lying, half sitting in the armchair -opposite. She showed a dainty foot encased in a red stocking and a red -shoe. Lola was all in crimson from head to foot, save for the jet and -her dark face and hair. She looked like some sorceress bent upon -unholy conjurations. - -"Engaged!" she repeated with a flash of her wonderful eyes. "That is -words for 'I don't want to come.'" - -George laughed, shook his head, and changed the subject. Her remark -about having a friend in San Remo ran in his mind. "Have you ever been -there?" he asked, naming the town. - -"Ah, bah! have I been anywhere? All Italy I know--all--all." - -"You know it better than Spain. Yet you are Spanish." - -"I am whatever you desire, my George. Yes, I am of Spain--of Cadiz, -where my parents sold oil to their ruin. They came to Italy, to Milan -and made money to live from wine. I was trained to the dance--they -died, and I, my friend----" - -"You told me all this before," interrupted Brendon, ruthlessly. "I ask -if you have ever been to San Remo?" - -"Why, yes, assuredly, and why not?" She looked at him with narrowing -eyes as she put the question, blinking like a cat. - -"There is no reason, only I was thinking----" He paused. - -"Eh, you think--of what?" - -"Oh, something which does not concern you, Lola." - -"All that is of you is to me," she responded. "I love you." - -"Lola, be reasonable." - -"Pschutt! I mock myself of your reason," she cried, snapping her -fingers and speaking in quite a French way. "I leave reasons to your -chilly English ladies. I--eh, but you know I am of the South. To -you--to you, my adored preserver, do I give myself." - -George grew angry. "If you talk like this, Lola, I shall go away." - -"Ah, then good-night to you. Let it be adieu and never come back." - -"Not at all. Be a reasonable woman and sit down. Give me some more -wine and a cigarette. I want to ask you a question." - -Lola poured out the wine and tossed him a cigarette, but she refused -to sit down or to compose herself. In a flaming temper she whirled -about the room, talking all the time. "Ah, yes, but it is so always! I -am a fool to love you, cold one--pig of an Englishman." - -"That's grateful," said George, quietly, and she was at his feet. - -"Ah, but no! I am a bad womans. I am entirely all wicked. You are an -angel of the good God. Dearest--my own----" She stretched adoring -hands, and her eyes glittered like stars. - -George reasoned with her. "Lola, do you wish me to be pleased with -you?" - -"Assuredly, and why not?" - -"Then sit down in your chair like a Christian and talk sensibly." - -She sat down, or rather flung herself into the chair with a whirl of -scarlet draperies. "Decidedly I am a Christian. I go to mass, I -confess--yes, I confess to the priest how I love you." - -"Do you really love me, Lola? I was told that you wished me harm." - -She started from her chair with a passionate gesture. - -"Who says it is liars of the worst. Tell me who speak, that I may tear -and scratch." - -"No! no! I don't want a scandal." - -"For her sakes, oh, yes!" She subsided sulkily. "I am nothings." - -"For whose sake?" asked Brendon, rather alarmed, for he did not wish -this tigress to know about Dorothy. - -"The other woman's. Oh, yes, there is some one else. I know. You are -mine all, and would be but for the other womans. Imbecile that I am to -think of you who kick me hard--hard. And I can learn nothing--nothing. -If I did--if I knew, I----" She stopped and breathed hard. - -"I wonder you don't have me watched," said George, thoroughly angry at -her unreasonable attitude. Lola tossed her head, and her expression -changed to one of alarm. Brendon saw the change and guessed its -meaning. "You did have me watched." - -"And what if I did?" she demanded defiantly. "You are mine." - -"I am not yours," he retorted angrily. "I have given you no cause to -think that I would marry you." - -Lola burst into tears. "You took me from the stones and snows," she -wept with extravagant grief. "Why did I not die? You fed me with -foods and made me shine in this London; you win my heart, and -then--then--pschutt!" she snapped her fingers, "you toss it aside." - -"Why did you have me watched?" asked George, sternly. - -"I want to know of the other woman," she replied sullenly. - -"There is no----" He broke off. "It has nothing to do with you." - -Lola sprang to her feet with fierce eyes. "Then there is -another--another--oh, you cruel! Name of names, but I shall find her. -I shall tell her----" - -"You shall tell her nothing--you shall not see her." - -"But I will. Eh; yes. You do not know me." This with a stamp. - -"I know you cannot behave decently, Lola. If you have me watched -again, if you dare to--to--bah!" George stamped in his turn. "I have -had enough of this. Behave, or I go and will not return." - -She flung herself at his feet with a wail. "Ah, but no," she sobbed, -"I do love you so dearly--I will die if you love me not." - -George drew himself roughly away, and taking her by the hands placed -her in a chair, where she hid her face and sobbed. "Who was it you got -to watch me--you hired to watch me?" George advisedly used the word -"hired" as he thought she might have engaged one of her friends to do -the dirty work, instead of engaging a professional. Yet he knew she -was quite capable of going to a private inquiry office. - -"I shall not tell you," said Lola, sitting up with a hard expression -on her mouth and in her eyes. - -"Did you pay him much?" asked Brendon, dexterously. - -"I paid him what I chose," retorted Lola, falling into the trap. - -"Ah! Then it was a professional detective you engaged. You have been -to one of those inquiry offices." - -"That is my business," said Lola, who, seeing she had made a slip, -became more obstinate than ever. More to show her calmness, she -lighted a fresh cigarette and smoked it defiantly. - -George shrugged his shoulders. He was not going to argue with her. -Remembering that Bawdsey had mentioned her name, and that Bawdsey -appeared to know all about himself, he began to put two and two -together. Certainly he might be wrong, and Bawdsey might have nothing -to do with the matter. Still it was worth while trying to startle Lola -into a confession by the use of his name. His rescue of Bawdsey hinted -that the long arm of coincidence might be at work. "Well, I don't know -where he comes from----" began George. - -Lola snapped him up. "Ah, yes, and you think it is a man. Bah! why not -a woman, my dear?" she sneered. - -"Oh, you may have half-a-dozen at work--male and female both," said -George, taking his seat, "but I should have thought that the red man -was clever enough to----" - -She threw away her cigarette and rose to her feet with such manifest -alarm that George knew his guess was correct. "You talk foolish." - -George looked at her angry face serenely. "Did Bawdsey when he said -you wished me harm?" - -"What?" She flung up her hands, with blazing eyes. "Did he say I do -wish you harm? Was it--that--that cow--pig----" - -"Don't call names, Lola, and don't distress yourself. It was Bawdsey." - -Lola saw that she had gone too far, and had, vulgarly speaking, given -herself away. She tried to recover lost ground. "I do not know his -names," she said sullenly; then burst out, "but I wish you no harm. -Eh, will you believe that, my preserver?" - -"I'll believe nothing if you will not tell me the truth," said -Brendon, a little cruelly. "Come, Lola, admit that you paid Bawdsey to -watch me." - -"I did not pay--no, not one sou. He did it for love." - -"Oh, indeed! So Bawdsey is in love with you?" - -Lola threw back her head defiantly. "Yes, he is, and I care not one, -two, three little trifles for him. Chup! He is old--he is red--he is -one big fool, that I can twist and twist----" - -"And you apparently have done so. Well, then, Lola, did you get him -from a private inquiry office?" - -"No, I did not so. He loved me, and sent me flowers--oh, many, many -flowers--those roses." She pointed to the silver dish. - -"So you can't tell the truth even in that," said George, deliberately. -"What of the friend in San Remo?" - -"It is his friend. He had flowers from his friend. He told that." - -Brendon sat up with an eager look in his eyes. So Bawdsey knew some -one in San Remo. Probably he had been there, and Bawdsey was -acquainted with his name. Brendon began to think that there was some -meaning in all these things and plied Lola with questions. She was -sulky at first and would not answer. But Brendon knew how to manage -her, and before the conclusion of the conversation he got the whole -truth out of her. This was accomplished by using what the Americans -call "bluff." - -"So Bawdsey knows San Remo, and he is fifty, or over fifty, years of -age. H'm! He knows all the history of the place, I suppose." - -"I know not--nothing do I know." - -"Ah, that's a pity! Bawdsey could tell you some nice tales." He fixed -a keen glance on her. "About some yellow holly, for instance." - -Lola winced, for the shot had gone home. But she still held to her -declaration of ignorance. "I know nothings--absolutely." - -"But apparently this man knows a great deal. He is in love with you, -and must have told you much. Did he inform you of a certain murder -which took place at San Remo?" - -"Ah, bah! Why should he? I knew of all already." - -"You! How did you know?" - -"My father and my mothers, they lived in San Remo when--oh, they did -tell me all of that Englishman." - -"Did they know who murdered him?" asked George, marveling at this -unexpected discovery. - -"No. No one know anythings." - -"Was there no suspicion?" - -"Not one suspicions. I know nothings," she repeated doggedly. - -"It strikes me that you do. How did you and Bawdsey come to be talking -of this matter?" - -"We did not talk." Lola looked down at her foot as she told the lie -and moved it restlessly. - -George rose and took up his hat. Throwing his coat over his arm, he -moved toward the door. "Good-night, mademoiselle." - -She sprang to her feet and flew after him. "No! no!" she cried in -lively alarm. "You must not go, my dearest dear." - -"What is the use of my stopping when you will not show your gratitude -toward me by telling the truth?" George hated to make such a speech as -this, but it was the only way in which he could move her. - -"I will tell! I will tell. Sit down. The coat--you shall not go. I -will say all. Ask what you will. Sit, my little cabbage--a wine in the -glass--ah, yes!--and a cigarette. Come, be good. Am I mademoiselle?" - -"No," said George, smiling on her pleading face, "you are my friend -Lola now that you are sensible." - -"Ah, only friend!" she said sadly. "But I speak. Yes?" - -George began at once to question her, lest the yielding mood should -pass away. "You made the acquaintance of Bawdsey at the hall?" - -Lola nodded. "He loved me; he sent me flowers; he was made a -presentation to me by Kowlaski. I learn that he looks after people, -what you call a--a--_un mouchard_----" - -"A spy--yes, go on." - -"And I made him watch you. I told him your name." - -"Did he know my name?" asked Brendon, quickly. - -"He knew everything--oh, yes--all--all!" - -Brendon was taken aback. "All--all what?" he asked amazed. - -"Why--" Lola twirled her fingers--"all what you would not tell to me, -my dear. That your names is Vane, and milor----" - -"Derrington! Did Bawdsey mention Lord Derrington?" - -"Yes. Oh, many times he speaks of milor. I speaks of San Remo. -This--this Bawdsey ask me of the blue domino--of the holly----" - -"Of the murder, in fact." - -"It is quite so, my friend. Of the murder of your father." - -"What?" George started from his seat. "Did he know that the man who -was murdered at San Remo was my father?" - -"Yes, and that it was difficult about the marriages." - -"That also. He appears to know the whole story. And he mentioned Lord -Derrington. That is how he comes to be acquainted with these facts. A -spy--Derrington is employing him. And the man is boarding in Amelia -Square." George struck his hands together. "By Jove, it's a -conspiracy, and I never knew anything!" - -"I do not wish you to have the marriages right, George," said Lola, -with a pout. "If you are as what you are, then you will marry me. She -will not be madame." - -"She? Who?" - -"The woman you--you--love." Lola got out the word with difficulty and -burst into extravagant rage. "But she will not have you. No, you are -mine. You will be Brendons--as I know you, and not Vane--never milor. -I will not let it. If you are milor you marry her." - -"Did Bawdsey tell you the name of the lady?" - -"No. But he will tell. But she is a well-born one, and I am of the -gutter. But I love you--ah, yes I love you!" She threw her arms round -him. "Be still Brendons, and not milor, and I am yours." - -"No! no!" George took her arms from his neck and spoke more soberly. -"Lola, hold your tongue about what you have told me, and I'll see you -again. If you speak, I see you no more." - -"I will be silent," she said as Brendon put on his coat. "But you are -cruel, wicked. You shall never be milor, never!" - -"How do you know?" asked George, contemptuously. - -Lola's eyes blazed. "I know. I know. You will never be milor." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -CLEVER MRS. WARD - - -"An invitation--an invitation to dinner. By Jove, I never thought I'd -get that far. The Honorable Mrs. Ward, too. Hurrah!" - -Leonard Train made these remarks over a letter which had come by the -morning post. It was a delicate perfumed friendly note, begging dear -Mr. Train to come to dinner the next evening without ceremony. "I have -just learned that your dear mother was at school with me," wrote Mrs. -Ward in her most gushing style. "So you will see why I write -informally. Do come." The "Do" was underlined, and Leonard could -hardly contain himself for joy at this proof that a member of the -aristocracy was disposed to be friendly. "A woman of the highest -fashion, too," chuckled Leonard. - -To account for Train's exuberant joy, which seemed out of all -proportion to its reason, it must be explained that, notwithstanding -his money, and what he regarded as his talents, he had never managed -to enter the fashionable world. As he was as vain as a peacock, and -anxious to shine and be admired among people worth knowing, this was a -great grief to him. George took him to several houses, but Leonard did -not seem to be a success, for after one visit he was never asked -again, although he left cards assiduously. This invitation of Mrs. -Ward's was purely voluntary, as she had met him only once and had -snubbed him when she did meet him. At the time he had thought her a -horrid woman, but now he was prepared to bow down and worship. - -Leonard's father had been in trade, and the nice little income he -inherited had been made out of a patent medicine, most drastic in its -effects, that claimed to cure all diseases. Train senior, a shrewd -innkeeper, had bought it from one of his customers--a drunken doctor -meant for better things, but who had fallen on evil days. By judicious -advertisement, and with the aid of many bought testimonials from -penniless members of the aristocracy, Train managed to make the drug a -success. Train's Trump Pill was seen on every boarding, and Mr. -Ireland possessed one of the original posters. - -Soon Train senior became rich, very rich, and, having improved his -manners and suppressed his parents, he was taken up by people of good -position who needed ready money. He bought his way into the fringe of -the fashionable world, and finally married a rather elderly lady, who -had blue blood, extravagant tastes, and no money. She presented him -with Leonard, and then, thinking she had done her duty, arranged to -enjoy herself. Mrs. Train spent the proceeds of the Trump Pill -recklessly, and before her husband died she managed to get through the -greater part of his wealth. Train settled an income of five thousand a -year on his son, and let Mrs. Train do what she liked with the rest. -Then he died, and Mrs. Train sent Leonard to Eton, afterward to -college. When he was thus off her hands she enjoyed herself amazingly, -and finally died in Paris, after spending every penny of the principal -and interest of the large fortune left by her husband. Leonard mourned -his mother, although he had seen very little of her. Then he settled -in London on his five thousand a year and posed as a literary man. But -the desire of his life was to be fashionable. Hence his delight at the -letter. - -"Of course I'll go," soliloquized Leonard, when calmer. "I wonder if -George will be there. He loves that Ward girl, so he might. Mrs. Ward -does not approve of the match, so he might not. I wonder if there is a -regular engagement. If not, I might have a shot myself. The Honorable -Mrs. Train--no, that would be the mother." - -It will be seen that Leonard was not very faithful to his absent -friend; but the fact is that Train was less devoted to Brendon than he -had been. The episode of Amelia Square made him fight rather shy of -George. The story of the marriage was shady, and in some way--Leonard -couldn't exactly explain how--seemed to be connected with the murder -of Mrs. Jersey. Moreover, Leonard knew something which he had not -mentioned to Brendon, and would not have mentioned it for the -fashionable world. However, he had said nothing about George's -history, and so far had kept faith. But Brendon saw that Leonard was -no longer so pleased to see him as formerly. He therefore avoided the -fat young man, and Leonard did not seem to mind the avoidance. Indeed, -he appeared to be rather relieved than otherwise. Brendon never asked -himself the reason of this behavior, as he thought it best to let -sleeping dogs lie. That Leonard would speak never entered his head. - -And Leonard never intended to speak, being weak, but honorable in his -own foolish way. But when Mrs. Ward's invitation came he walked -blindfolded into a trap set by that clever little woman. She asked -Train to dinner, not because she had known his mother--although that -was true enough--but for the simple reason that she wished to hear -what he knew about the Amelia Square tragedy. Brendon had told her -much, but it was probable that Train, being a weak idiot in the hands -of a pretty woman like herself, would tell her more. Mrs. Ward was by -no means reconciled to the possibility of Brendon marrying her -daughter, and wished to find some scandal smirching George, that she -might induce Dorothy to break the engagement. She would have utilized -the tales about Lola and Brendon, but that she was not sure of her -ground in this particular direction, and, moreover, having seen the -Spanish dancer, feared lest so passionate a woman should make an open -scandal. It was the aim of Mrs. Ward's life to do wrong things, and to -avoid troubles arising from them. Therefore, she, for the time being, -put Lola on the shelf and arranged in her own scheming mind to make -use of Leonard. "I can work him like a lump of putty," said Mrs. Ward, -contemptuously. A vulgar illustration, but a true one. Besides, she -said it in the solitude of her own room when she was dressing for -dinner, so no one heard its vulgarity or its truth. - -When Leonard entered the drawing-room he was welcomed by Dorothy, who -told him that Mrs. Ward would be down shortly. "It is only a small -dinner, Mr. Train," she said. "Mr. Vane is coming; no one else." - -"I expected to find my friend Brendon here," said Leonard, thinking -how beautiful she looked. - -"No! Mr. Brendon is very busy at the present time with his book. He -would have come otherwise." - -"All things should give way where a lady is concerned," said Train, -gallantly. - -Miss Ward laughed. She had heard much of Train from Brendon, and -thought him a kindly, but foolish young man. "I am not a woman of that -sort, Mr. Train. I have no desire that a man should neglect his work -for frivolity. You are a great friend of Mr. Brendon?" - -"The greatest he has." - -"And he was stopping with you in the house where that tragedy took -place. He told me about it." - -Train secretly wished that George had held his tongue on this -particular point, as he had his own reasons for not wishing to be -questioned. With the very best intentions as to holding his tongue, he -knew his weakness for babbling well enough, and found it easier to -abstain from talking altogether than to be temperate in speech. -"Brendon certainly stopped with me," he said reservedly, "but we were -sound asleep when the murder took place. Neither of us heard anything. -After the inquest we both returned to the West End." - -"It was a most unpleasant experience," said Dorothy, thoughtfully. - -"Very," assented Train, wiping his face. "I shall never go in search -of types again." - -"You can find amusing types in the West End," remarked Dorothy, in a -low voice. "Here is one." - -The young man who entered the room was a small, attenuated, precise -atom of a creature, immaculately dressed and with a rather shrill -voice. He answered to the name of the Hon. Walter Vane, and was the -cousin of Brendon, although he did not know of the relationship. But -Dorothy and Train both knew, and compared Vane's physique -disadvantageously with that of Brendon. The one man was a splendid -specimen of humanity, the other a peevish hypochondriac. Walter Vane -had been "fast" in his time, and although he was not yet thirty he was -now suffering from the consequences of his rapid ways. He was in the -twenties, yet he was bald. He was as nervous as an old woman and -finicky as an elderly spinster. Lord Derrington, who was a bluff old -giant of the country squire type, sneered at his degenerate -descendant. All the same, he would not replace him by George, who was -a man in looks and tastes after the old lord's own heart. - -"Beastly night," lisped Vane, greeting Dorothy and taking no notice of -Leonard. "I think there will be snow. I hope I won't get a bad cold. I -am so subject to cold." - -"Mr. Train--Mr. Vane," said Dorothy, introducing the two. - -Vane stared and muttered something about "pleasure." Leonard caught no -other word. He then continued his conversation with Miss Ward. "I -sneezed twice at the Merry Music Hall the other night." - -"That is where Velez dances," said Leonard, determined to speak. - -Vane stared again, and it was Dorothy who answered. "My mother went to -see her, and says she is a most extraordinary dancer." - -"Oh, clever in a sort of mad way, and a regular bad one," chuckled the -little man. Dorothy turned away. She did not like this conversation, -as it offended her taste. But the next words of Vane made her pause. -"I saw your friend Brendon at the hall, Miss Ward--the writing man, -you know. A fine-looking chap, but sulky." - -"The best man in the world," said Leonard, whereupon Dorothy gave him -an approving look. She wondered what Vane would say did he know that -the man he criticised so freely was his cousin and the legitimate heir -to the Derrington title if he had his rights. - -"Well, he has his larks like every one else. They say he is sweet on -the dancer." - -"Mr. Vane!" cried Dorothy, the blood rushing to her face. - -The little man became confused, conscious that he had transgressed the -bounds of good breeding. He knew that Brendon admired Dorothy, and -that Dorothy took pleasure in his society, but he was unaware that any -deeper feeling existed. Mrs. Ward had kept that sort of thing from -him, as she did not want Vane to leave the coast clear for Brendon. -And Vane was so egotistical that he never for one moment dreamed that -George was his rival. Even if he had, he would have laughed the idea -to scorn. In his eyes Brendon was merely a writing fellow and not to -be named in the same breath with his noble, attenuated, rickety self. - -"Well, good people," cried Mrs. Ward, entering the room at this very -opportune moment, "are you all here? Mr. Vane, I am pleased. Mr. -Train, how good of you to come. Ah," Mrs. Ward sighed, "you have your -dear mother's eyes, and lovely eyes they were." - -Having slipped in this compliment to put Leonard at his ease and throw -him off his guard, Mrs. Ward delivered him to Dorothy and took Vane -into a shady corner. "Dinner will be ready soon," she said, fanning -herself although it was a cold winter's night. "I hope you are hungry, -Mr. Vane." - -"I was," admitted her guest, "but I have to nurse my appetite -carefully, you know, Mrs. Ward, and I am rather put out." - -"Not by Mr. Train, I hope. He is a nice fellow, really, very nice, -with money made out of pigs or whisky or something," said Mrs. Ward, -vaguely, for she was not certain. "What did he say?" - -"He said nothing, but Miss Ward did." - -Mrs. Ward shrugged. "Oh, well, you know, dear Dorothy has such odd -ideas, and all that sort of thing. I suppose it was something about -books, or philosophies, or grammar, or something. Enough to spoil any -one's appetite, I'm sure." - -"No. But I mentioned that Brendon--you know the writing -fellow----" - -"Yes, I know," said Mrs. Ward, viciously, and at once on the alert. - -"Well, I said that it was rumored he was sweet on Lola Velez, and Miss -Ward fired up. Is she so great a friend of his as all that?" - -"Oh, by no means," responded Mrs. Ward, vivaciously. "A mere -acquaintance, you know. They talk books, I believe, and how moths -get wings like those animals before the flood. She thinks he is -goody-goody. I'm sure he's dull enough. Lola Velez! oh, a perfect -dear. How she can kick! So Mr. Brendon is in--well, I never should -have thought it of him; but these quiet men are always the worst." - -So Mrs. Ward rattled on in her incoherent manner, but perfectly clear -in her own mind as to the good Vane's injudicious observation would -do. If Dorothy once got it into her brain that George was an admirer -of Lola, then there would be a chance of breaking the engagement. -Before Vane could make any more remarks the gong thundered. Mrs. Ward -rose at once, rather glad of the stoppage of conversation. She liked a -lively man, and Vane was a fool. But for all that she was quite -prepared to give him Dorothy, as she would have given her to a prize -idiot provided the idiot was sufficiently rich. "You take in Dorothy," -she said to Vane, thus getting him off her shoulders, but not hoping -to find Leonard a pleasant change. "I will take Mr. Train under my -wing." - -In this order they entered the dining-room, Mrs. Ward trying to stifle -a yawn and wondering how she would get through such a dull evening. -Luckily, Vane mentioned that his grandfather had expressed his -intention of looking in during the course of the evening, "If you will -not mind, Mrs. Ward," he said politely. - -"Oh, I'm rather glad," replied the little woman, drawing off her -gloves. "Such a delightful old gentleman! His anecdotes are quite in -the best style." - -"He told one to a bishop the other day," said Vane, laughing. - -"Really, how amusing! And what did the bishop say?" - -"He said nothing, but he looked sermons." - -"Ah," sighed Mrs. Ward, "bishops are so particular." - -"I find them delightful," said Dorothy, filling in the pause. - -"Of course, my dear, because they talk of Renan and missionaries and -those sort of dry things. I remember the Bishop of Timbuctoo, or -Central Africa, or some of those places one never heard of, telling me -how his old curate was eaten alive by blacks and mosquitoes. I quite -forget which; but he was eaten." - -"I trust the blacks and mosquitoes didn't find the curate tough." - -"I'm sure I don't know. He was just thirty, I believe, and bald." - -"You said he was an old curate." - -"Oh, dear me, Dorothy how can you expect me to explain what I -mean?--at dinner, too. I mean he was young in years and old in -saintliness. Do try this dish, Mr. Train? It is so good." - -Leonard did try it, and did full justice to the merits of Mrs. Ward's -cook. She kept a particularly good chef, as she knew the value of good -cooking. "People like nice things to eat," she explained to Leonard, -while Dorothy labored to entertain Vane. "It makes one so popular if -one's chef can always be relied upon. I have known a woman's position -ruined by inattention to the kitchen. One can break all the ten -commandments if only one feeds the men." Then, thinking she had said -too much, she added sweetly, "But of course I am only joking, Mr. -Train, as one must be good and all that sort of thing." - -"I'm sure you are all that is good and kind, Mrs. Ward." - -"Now, that's really very nice of you. Mr. Brendon would never say a -really nice thing like that. Of course he's a great friend of yours, -isn't he? and he stopped with you when that poor woman----" - -Leonard uttered an ejaculation. It seemed to him that he was pursued -by the Amelia Square tragedy. First Dorothy, and now her mother. Was -there no other topic of conversation? He would have answered an -ordinary person rudely, being wearied of being questioned, but Mrs. -Ward, having the key of the door which led into the fashionable world, -was to be conciliated. He replied to her almost in the same words as -he had used to Dorothy. "Mr. Brendon did stop with me," he said, "but -we were asleep when the murder took place." - -"How extraordinary!" said Mrs. Ward, languidly, yet with a keen eye on -the change in Leonard's face. "I wonder who killed her?" - -"No one knows," replied Train, shortly. - -"Does no one suspect any one?" - -"I believe not. The police are quite at fault." - -"Oh, the police!" said Mrs. Ward, in a proper tone of contempt. "They -never do anything except make love to cooks. Do you suspect any one?" - -Leonard flushed. "I, Mrs. Ward? Why should I suspect any one?" - -"Oh, I don't know. You have a clever face. Just the kind of a face -that one would think a brilliant detective would have. You must have -some suspicions?" Again her eyes searched his face. - -"No," he protested. "I was asleep. I know nothing about the matter." - -"How stupid of you!" said Mrs. Ward, beginning to think that her -condescension in asking Leonard to dinner was wasted. "But you men are -always so blind, poor dears! What kind of a woman was Mrs. Jersey?" - -"A nice motherly old creature." - -"I know--like a monthly nurse. Was Mr. Brendon introduced to her?" - -"Yes. I took him into the drawing-room." - -"Really. Have they drawing-rooms in Bloomsbury? How nice and -civilized! Well, did Mrs. Jersey and Mr. Brendon get on well together? -I want to know because you see, Mr. Train, he admires Dorothy, and it -is such a sign of a man's good-nature if he gets on well with -strangers. I suppose Mrs. Jersey liked him?" - -"I think she did," replied Leonard, on whose weak head the claret was -beginning to take effect, "but she was rather startled when she saw -him first." - -Mrs. Ward's eyes flashed so brightly that Leonard would have been -warned of his indiscretion had he not been looking at his plate. "Oh, -how very interesting! But she never saw him before. Why should she be -startled?" - -"It wasn't at him exactly," said Leonard, "but at a piece of yellow -holly he wore in his coat." - -"Yellow holly," repeated Mrs. Ward, with feigned surprise. "Why, of -course Mr. Brendon wore a sprig. My daughter gave it to him." - -"So he told me, Mrs. Ward." - -"And I gave it to Dorothy," continued Mrs. Ward, who for some reason -wished to make an explicit statement. "It is very rare, you know, and -a man who lives in Devonshire sent me a bunch. Dorothy mentioned that -Mr. Brendon had begged for a piece. Yes! he would naturally wear it on -that night, as he had just left my house. But why was this unfortunate -woman surprised?" - -"I can't say; but she was," answered Train; "she turned white, and we -all thought she was about to faint." - -"Did she give any explanation?" - -"No. In a few moments she recovered, and nothing more was said." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Ward seemed disappointed. "Was that all?" - -"Why--" Leonard turned his dull eyes on her flushed face--"what else -did you expect to hear, Mrs. Ward?" - -"Nothing! Nothing," she said hurriedly, for she did not wish to make -him suspicious, "but it seems so odd. Dorothy giving the holly, you -know, and that Mrs. Jersey should be upset. We must continue this -conversation, Mr. Train. It is really most interesting. But you -literary men are quite fascinating. After dinner in the drawing-room, -Mr. Train. Dorothy!" She signaled with her fan, and her daughter -arose. "Don't be too long over your wine," said Mrs. Ward, as she left -the room. "We can't spare you, Mr. Train." - -Leonard believed that all this attention was due to his own -fascinations. His head was still heated with the wine he had drunk, -yet he began to regret that he had said anything about the yellow -holly. Certainly he had not promised George to be silent on this -especial point; but he nevertheless thought it wiser to hold his -tongue about all that had taken place in Amelia Square on the night of -the murder. Warned in this way by his mother sense, Train took no more -wine, but after a rather dull conversation with Vane he went into the -drawing-room. Dorothy was at the piano and thither repaired Vane; but -Mrs. Ward, seated near the fire, called Leonard to her side. "I must -introduce you: Lord Derrington--Mr. Train." - -The grandfather of George was a huge man, burly, red-faced, -white-haired, and with a rather truculent expression. He was over -seventy, yet carried his years like a boy. Under his bushy white -eyebrows he shot a quick glance at Leonard from a pair of keen gray -eyes and summed him up at once as a fool. But Lord Derrington had been -a diplomatist many years before, and knew that even fools are -sometimes useful. Moreover, he had learned from Mrs. Ward's aimless -chatter that Train was a great friend of Brendon's, and he knew more -about George than George thought. However, Derrington, after that one -glance of contempt, was very civil to Leonard. - -"I am glad to meet you," he said, with a nod. "You go in for books, I -understand from Mrs. Ward." - -He had a deep, raucous voice like that of an early starling, and spoke -in an abrupt staccato kind of way. Train, who stood before him like a -rabbit before a snake, compared him in his own mind with Becky Sharp's -friend, the Marquis of Steyne. Derrington was quite as wicked and -savage and unscrupulous as that celebrated nobleman. - -"I do write a little," said Leonard, nervously. - -"I believe in action rather than in writing," said Derrington. "There -are far too many books written. Dreamers, all of you." - -"Dreams may come true." - -"And when they do come true, what is the use of them? Bah! In my young -days we lived. Now people dream." - -"I'm sure there's no dreaming about society nowadays," said Mrs. Ward, -laughing. "Every one is as sharp as a needle to get the better of his -or her neighbor." - -"Mutual Deception Society," said Derrington. -"You-give-me-so-much-and-I'll-let-you-go-so-far. That's the sort of -thing." - -"But there is a great deal of philanthropy nowadays." - -"And what good does philanthropy do, Mr. Train?" said Derrington; -"only makes people lazy. People are too sentimental. I would give half -these paupers the cat if I had my way." - -Train was quite sure that he would, for, with his red face and heavy -jowl and savage air of command, he looked the picture of a Roman -emperor. Derrington had the instincts of a despot, and Leonard could -imagine him slaying and burning and doing all manner of evil things. -He wondered how Brendon ever came to have such a villainous -grandfather. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something about -Brendon, just to observe the effect on Derrington. But his courage -failed him and he held his peace. And at that moment Fate intervened. -The drawing-room door opened, and a servant announced, "Mr. Brendon!" - -The next moment George came face to face with his grandfather. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -DIPLOMACY - - -It was a most awkward meeting. Dorothy, Train, and Brendon knew the -truth, but Mrs. Ward and Vane were ignorant. As to Lord Derrington -himself, George was not sure. After his conversation with Lola he had -a vague idea that since Bawdsey was connected in some way with his -grandfather, Lord Derrington must have somehow learned that Brendon -was the name his grandson had taken. There was no other way of -accounting for the mention of Derrington's name by the private inquiry -agent. - -However this might be, Lord Derrington was too clever a man to betray -himself. George felt that the old man knew who he was, but he could -not be sure, for Derrington welcomed him with a well-bred air, as he -would have done a stranger. Mrs. Ward watched the meeting curiously, -and Brendon noticed her inquiring gaze. But he put this down to his -knowledge that Derrington knew he was a suitor for Dorothy's hand and -wished the girl to marry Vane. Leonard was the only person in the room -who displayed any visible disturbance. He grew red and restless. -Brendon was perfectly calm. - -"How delightful of you to come, Mr. Brendon," said Mrs. Ward, rising -and apparently forgetting that she had forbidden him the house. "I -must introduce you: Lord Derrington--Mr. Brendon; and you know Mr. -Train." - -"We are old friends," said George, calmly. "Miss Ward"--he bowed to -Dorothy, who emulated his serenity although she felt anxious. But when -she saw her lover's composure she knew that nothing disagreeable would -occur, and her apprehensions were relieved. - -There ensued a general conversation relative to the weather, to the -doings of a certain politician, and to sundry other subjects more or -less vague. George talked excellently, and was conscious that -Derrington was listening with approval. Again and again he wondered if -the old man really knew who he was, and again and again he failed to -arrive at any conclusion. After a time Leonard went with Dorothy to -the piano, where she played for his delectation, and Mrs. Ward seized -the opportunity to show Vane some new photographs of herself. -Derrington and Brendon were practically alone, and the old lord -appeared anxious to make himself agreeable. George was watchful for -the cloven hoof, but it did not peep out. Truculent tyrant as -Derrington was, yet he could play the part of a highly bred, polished -gentleman of the old school to perfection. He did so on this occasion. - -"I have heard of you from Mrs. Ward," he said in his harsh tones, -which no amount of politeness could render agreeable, "but I do not -think we have met before." - -"No. I cannot recall any meeting," replied George, wondering if the -other was about to hint that he had seen some one resembling him. "I -have seen you in the distance, however." - -"Distance lends enchantment to the view in my case." - -"You are pleased to say so, Lord Derrington." - -"I generally do say what I please," responded the old man, shooting a -sharp glance at George. - -"Are you related to the Brendons of Shropshire?" - -"No. I have not that privilege." - -Derrington chuckled at this reply. He thought George had a good deal -of the man in him when he answered thus fearlessly. "I have seen your -name somewhere lately," he observed, "but I can't recall where or in -what connection." - -Brendon laughed, quite at his ease, although he did not know if this -was an attempt to make him speak out. However, he did speak out, with -the idea of seeing what would happen. "I can supply the connection," -said he, lightly, but keenly observant of the old man's face. "My name -appeared as a witness at an inquest a week or so back." - -"Ah, now I remember, Mr. Brendon. Quite so. It was that Amelia Square -murder." - -"You have a good memory, Lord Derrington." - -"In this case you flatter me, Mr. Brendon. There is no difficulty in -my remembering the especial case, as Mrs. Jersey was a tenant of -mine." - -George was not supposed to know this and displayed suitable surprise. - -"Indeed," he said; "then you have lost a good tenant." - -"Possibly," replied Derrington, rather grimly. "She always paid her -rent regularly. You saw her?" - -"Yes. My friend, Mr. Train, was stopping in the house----" - -"That young man." Derrington cast a look in Leonard's direction. "I -did not know he was there on that night." - -"He was a witness also," said Brendon, significantly. - -"I can't remember all the names sir. Well?" - -"I stopped for the night with Mr. Train, and during the night Mrs. -Jersey was murdered." - -"You heard nothing--you saw nothing?" - -"I was sound asleep the whole time," said Brendon, calmly. - -"Humph!" Derrington pulled at his gray mustache in the very same way -as George did when he was reflective. "What a pity. You might have -discovered the assassin." - -"I don't think the assassin will ever be discovered." - -"That's luck for the assassin," rejoined the old lord, cynically. "You -appear to be very certain, Mr. Brendon." - -George shrugged his shoulders. "No more certain than the police are," -he replied. "They examined every one in the house, and no one could be -accused--there was absolutely no evidence. And the assassin could not -have entered the house, as the door was locked, and the key was in the -pocket of the murdered woman." - -Derrington, for some reason, appeared to be rather relieved. "I read -all that in the papers," he said roughly. "You are telling me nothing -new. But there, you didn't say you would. By the way, you stopped at -that house. Do you know a Miss Bull?" - -George nodded. "She told my fortune," he said. - -"She told Mrs. Jersey's fortune also, and a very true fortune did she -tell," said Derrington, grimly. "What did she prophesy about you?" - -"The usual thing," said Brendon, curtly. - -"Trouble, I suppose. These card-people generally prophesy trouble, as -it is certain to occur." - -"There was trouble and enemies, and the promise that I should get my -wish," said Brendon, with a quick look. - -Derrington laughed. "What is your wish?" - -"If I tell it I won't get it," replied George, also laughing; "but I -don't believe in fortune-telling. It is rubbish." - -"It wasn't in Mrs. Jersey's case," said the other, who appeared to be -a trifle superstitious. - -"Oh, that was a mere coincidence. But you asked me about Miss Bull, -sir! Do you know her?" - -Derrington nodded. "She came to me on behalf of Mrs. Jersey's niece -and wished the lease renewed. I heard her story and consented. I dare -say the niece will be quite as good a tenant as the aunt." - -This conversation was all very well, but there was nothing to be -learned from it on either side. Brendon could not discover if his -grandfather knew to whom he was speaking, and Derrington found it -impossible to learn if George could tell him anything of the case -which had not been reported in the papers. For some reason Derrington -wished to know what had transpired, and Brendon felt convinced that -this anxiety was more than that of a landlord for the loss of a good -tenant. He wondered if Derrington knew that Mrs. Jersey had written -out a confession and that it was missing. He would had liked to find -out, but since he could not reveal himself as Derrington's grandson -there was no chance of getting this information. Besides, Derrington -appeared to grow weary of discussing the murder. "It is worn -threadbare," he said. "All the papers have been talking about it. I -agree with you, Mr. Brendon, that the assassin will never be -discovered." - -"Never!" said George, looking full at the determined face of the old -man. "Are you quite sure? - -"I am sure of nothing in this world, save that you said so yourself, -Mr. Brendon. However, there are pleasanter subjects to talk of. What -about yourself--your aims, your ambitions, your chances of success?" - -"Are those pleasant subjects?" laughed Brendon. - -"To an old man such as I am," nodded the other. "I like to hear of the -castles in the air which youth builds." - -"I am afraid my castles will never turn to bricks and mortar," said -Brendon with a sigh. - -However, he was not averse to showing his grandfather that he was no -fool, but a man with a head on his shoulders. George had a quick brain -and a strong will and a considerable fund of information. He had taken -a good degree at Oxford, and his literary articles always received -praise from the public, and from his brethren of the press. Moreover, -George was fond of politics, and could converse excellently on that -fascinating subject. He laid himself out to please Derrington, knowing -that the old tyrant was disappointed in the languid Vane, who was -chattering commonplace to Mrs. Ward. In a short time Brendon and -Derrington were engaged in a discussion about Ireland and Irish Home -Rule, and the old lord approved, highly of Brendon's sentiments. - -"You ought to be in the House, Mr. Brendon," he said. - -"I have no one to help me to such a goal." - -Derrington was about to speak, and fastened his little eyes on the -keen, handsome face of the younger man. But he suddenly changed his -mind and turned away to talk to Mrs. Ward. Brendon knew that he had -succeeded in pleasing the old gentleman, and was glad that so much was -accomplished. If Derrington found that he was clever and presentable, -and likely to add luster to the family name, it was not improbable -that he would recognize the marriage. But by this time George had it -in his mind that Derrington knew who he was, and had been talking -advisedly under the cover of pretended ignorance, so as to see what -manner of man his unacknowledged grandson was. "Well," thought -Brendon, "he has learned that I am no fool, at all events." - -Mrs. Ward came across to George and left Derrington talking to -Dorothy, for whom he professed a great admiration. He knew that -Dorothy liked Brendon, as Mrs. Ward had told him so, and he frankly -acknowledged to her that Brendon was a clever man. "I wish my grandson -had his brains," said Derrington, regretfully. - -"I am pleased you like him," responded Dorothy, who could not tell him -that Brendon was his grandson, and hardly knew what to say. "He is as -good as he is clever." - -This remark did not please Derrington. "Humph! I don't like good young -men. They generally become bad old scamps." - -"Were you a good young man, Lord Derrington?" asked Dorothy, demurely. - -He appreciated the joke. "One of the best," he said, with a twinkle in -his eyes, "consequently I have gone to the other extreme for many -years." - -"They say one always returns to his first loves," said Dorothy, -smiling, "so you may revert to your godly youth." - -Derrington shook his wicked old head. "My first loves are all dead and -buried, my dear. But this Brendon--you like him?" - -Dorothy did not see why see should conceal her feelings. "I love him," -she said quietly and firmly. - -"Ha!" replied Derrington, showing no surprise. "Mrs. Ward hinted at -something of that sort, but I thought that Walter----" - -"Please say no more, Lord Derrington." - -"Well, then, I won't." Derrington's eyes rested wrathfully on the -withered young man he called grandson. "I don't wonder at your choice, -my dear. What Walter requires is a nurse." - -"That is a profession I have not taken up," said Dorothy, laughing. -She was very anxious to say something good about George to Derrington, -on the chance that it might soften his hard old heart. But after all, -George had spoken for himself and was his own best advocate. If she -interfered, seeing that she was supposed to know nothing of the -relationship, she might make mischief. Therefore she held her tongue -on the subject nearest to her heart and talked in the most general -manner. Derrington said no more about Brendon, but Dorothy noticed -that his eyes were rarely off the face of her lover. George had -certainly made an impression. - -Meantime, Vane joined Mrs. Ward, and Dorothy, seeing that Leonard was -alone, beckoned him to approach. Derrington was not particularly -pleased at having his conversation with a pretty girl interrupted, but -he was polite, and, on learning that Train knew Brendon intimately, he -began to ask him about his friend. Train, to please Dorothy, and -because he really admired George, spoke most enthusiastically. Dorothy -listened in silence, well pleased. From Derrington's curiosity and -persistent questioning she began to think he knew something of the -relationship. - -"But really, you know, she is a great artist," Mrs. Ward was saying to -Brendon; "there is something so original about her." - -They were speaking of Lola Velez, and it was Vane who had introduced -the subject. As Mrs. Ward was a married woman, and knew the seamy side -of social life, Vane had no hesitation in speaking about the dancer to -her. George, to whom the subject was distasteful, tried to avoid the -discussion; but Mrs. Ward, on the alert for information, would return -again and again to the topic. - -"They say you know her very well," she declared. - -"They? Who?" asked Brendon, lifting his eyebrows. - -"I do, for one," said Vane in his weak voice; "a fellow told me that -she owed her success to you." - -"I am not sorry to put you right on that point," replied Brendon, his -eyes hardening; "many false rumors are about--to one of which you -alluded the other day, Mrs. Ward. This is another. What I know of -Senora Velez, and how I know her, can be put in a nutshell," and -George quietly related his rescue of the dancer. - -"Then you did make her the success she is!" cried Mrs. Ward, when he -ended. "Oh, yes, it's no use denying it. You picked a jewel out of the -gutter and gave it a chance of shining." - -"Perhaps I did that much. But she made a success by her genius." - -"I hope she is grateful," murmured Vane, with a malicious smile. - -Brendon turned on him sharply. "I don't know what you mean by -gratitude," he said deliberately. - -"Well," drawled the little dandy, "she is pretty and----" - -"She is not at all pretty, Mr. Vane, and were she as lovely as -Cleopatra it would not matter to me. My connection with her ceased -when she made her success." George quite forgot the presence of Mrs. -Ward and spoke vehemently. "Can't you understand that a man may do a -kind action without being biased by the beauty of a woman?" - -"Some men can," said Mrs. Ward, politely, "and I am sure you are one, -Mr. Brendon. But suppose the woman----" - -"I don't suppose anything, Mrs. Ward. I know. Senora Velez was poor. I -helped her to attain to the position she now holds because I endeavor -to follow the preaching of Christ, and she is to me a grateful friend. -There is no more and no less to be said," and, a trifle ruffled, -George turned on his heel to join Dorothy. - -"Well, I'm sure," murmured Mrs. Ward, "and in my own house, too." - -Vane sniggered. "There must be something in it," he said. - -"And the profane language he used. Of course I don't believe a word he -says." - -"Neither do I. She's too pretty." - -So these two scandal-mongers talked on, and George had only made -matters worse by his explanation. However, he believed that he had -nipped the scandal in the bud, and strolled into the next room with -Dorothy to quiet his mind. Behind them they left Derrington talking to -Train and rather enjoying himself. - -The room in which they found themselves was a pretty little apartment -hung with amber silk, and illuminated with lights in yellow shades. -The furniture was also yellow, and the carpet of a primrose hue. Mrs. -Ward only introduced her most intimate friends into this boudoir, as -it was her own special sanctum; and if its walls could have spoken -they could have supplied all the existing society papers with gossip -enough to last a century. - -"Do you think Lord Derrington knows who you are?" asked Dorothy as -they seated themselves on a kind of divan. - -"I am not sure," replied George, who did not want to tell her what he -knew, lest he should have to introduce the name of Lola Velez. "I have -an idea that he does." - -Dorothy shook her head. "I don't think so. If he knows you he must be -aware that you know him, and about the relationship, and would not -speak so freely. I think he is taken with you, George." - -"Well, he has been putting me through my paces. I only hope that our -chance meeting of to-night may bear fruit. What is Train doing here? -Your mother only had him in her house once before, and she does not -like him." - -"I can't make out why she asked him," said Dorothy; "he is a dull -young man, though harmless enough. But my mother made a point of -asking him to dinner." - -"Humph! I wonder what that's for," said Brendon, wrinkling his brows, -for he knew well that Mrs. Ward did nothing without expecting an -equivalent return. Then he recollected her questions about the crime, -and wondered if she had invited Leonard so as to pump him. It was just -what Mrs. Ward did intend to do, but George could not think she had -sufficient interest in the crime to justify such a course of action. -Besides, he felt that he could trust Leonard to hold his tongue, in -spite of the man's weakness. But in this he reckoned without Mrs. -Ward, who could have wiled an anchorite to chatter, had she been so -minded. - -And that is what she was doing at the very moment. Almost as soon as -the lovers had disappeared into the yellow boudoir Lord Derrington had -taken his departure. He insisted that Vane should come also, and would -not allow the little dandy to take leave of Dorothy, nor would he take -leave himself. This was done to punish Vane. "Miss Ward is quite happy -in there," he said to Mrs. Ward at the door of the drawing-room. "I -won't have her disturbed." - -"Oh, but really," cried Mrs. Ward, who did not want Vane to go away -with a bad impression, "Dorothy is simply bored with him." - -"If she is bored with such a brilliant fellow she would not enjoy the -company of Shakespeare himself." - -"I'm sure I shouldn't," murmured Mrs. Ward. "Shakespeare must have -been an awful bore. But do say good-by, Lord Derrington. Dorothy will -be so disappointed." - -"No, she won't," snarled Derrington, who was enjoying himself at thus -thwarting Mrs. Ward's schemes. "Come along, Walter. Take me home and -tell me your latest ailment. Good-night, Mrs. Ward," and he went. - -Derrington was chuckling, and Vane looked very sulky, so Mrs. Ward saw -that the old man had done this thing to spite her. "Horrid creature!" -she pouted; "he ought to be dead and buried. It isn't respectable -being alive at his time of life. He'll make Walter Vane angry with me, -and I'm sure----" Here she caught, sight of Leonard's astonished face, -and became aware she was divulging secrets. At once she smoothed her -brow and began to smile. This was an excellent opportunity to find out -what she wanted. Taking Leonard's arm she led him to a chair some -distance from the door of the boudoir. - -"Now let us have a nice long talk, dear Mr. Train," she said, settling -herself amiably. "Mr. Brendon and Dorothy are no doubt talking -tadpoles or frogs or something nasty. They won't be out for a long -time, so we can renew our pleasant conversation." - -"I don't think it was very pleasant," said Train, unwillingly. - -"What an ungallant thing to say!" - -"I mean to talk about crime----" - -"Is most amusing--I mean instructive. Oh, yes, I have read many of -those novels--what do they call them?--detective novels." - -"A very low form of literature," said the superior Leonard. - -"Oh, they are amusing and interesting, and send one to sleep when one -can't in spite of drops and morphia!" babbled Mrs. Ward in her -childish manner. "And I have often thought how nice it would be if one -could really try and find out who killed a person. Now in this case, -Mr. Train, I am sure you heard something or saw something----" - -"Upon my word I neither saw nor heard," protested Leonard. "I was in -bed all the time." - -"Didn't you hear a scream?" - -"No." - -"Then you must have heard the fall of the body, or the shutting of the -door as the--ah!" Mrs. Ward saw from the expression of Leonard's face -that she had touched upon something. "You did hear----" - -"No! no!" he stammered, wondering how he was to get out of confessing -about the opening of the front door without appearing rude. - -"Nonsense. Confess! Confess, you silly man!" - -But Leonard was too loyal. To lead her away from the point he asked a -question. "Mrs. Ward, that yellow holly?" - -"Yes. What about it?" She leaned forward eagerly. - -"Did you give a sprig of it to any one else?" - -"No. I only gave a bit to my daughter, and she----" - -"She gave it to Brendon. Yes, I know. But did Miss Ward give any of it -to a third person?" - -"Certainly not. To do so she would have had to get it from me. But -beyond the sprig that was given, and which Mr. Brendon had, no holly -went out of this house." - -"It is very rare, is it not?" - -"I believe so. I dare say there wasn't another bunch in London on that -particular night. Of course there might have been, still--but why do -you ask all this?" - -"Well," said Leonard, "it seems to me that the yellow holly has -something to do with the crime." - -Mrs. Ward drew a long breath but said no word. He was speaking half to -himself, and she did not wish to interrupt his train of thought. But -she listened with all her ears. Leonard continued: "I found a berry in -the room where she was killed. Yes. They took us in to see the body, -and a horrid sight it was. I turned my eyes to the floor, and there I -saw--just by the table--a kind of amber bead. I dropped my -handkerchief so that Quex might not suspect, and I picked it up. When -in my own room I examined it. It was one of the yellow holly berries." - -Mrs. Ward threw herself back with a kind of unholy triumph. "Do you -know what you are saying, Mr. Train?" she said in a half whisper. "You -are accusing Mr. Brendon----" - -"No! no!" Train started to his feet. Mrs. Ward pulled him down again -and pointed with her fan toward the boudoir. - -"Hush! He might come out," she whispered. "But can't you see? Brendon -wore the sprig in his coat on that night. He must have been in the -room and have dropped the berry. What was he doing there if it was not -to----" - -"No," said Train, hoarsely. "I half thought of that myself, but it is -quite impossible, I tell you. He could not have got out of his room -unless he had come to me." - -"How do you mean?" - -"I locked the door of the sitting-room, which was between his bedroom -and mine. There was no exit from his bedroom, and to get out and down -the stairs he would have had to open the sitting-room door. Now the -key was under my pillow and the door was locked in the morning. No, -Mrs. Ward, Brendon is innocent." - -"He might have stolen the key while you slept." Train shook his head. -"Impossible. I sleep very lightly, and on that night I hardly slept at -all." - -"Why. Was anything wrong?" - -"I can't tell you that, Mrs. Ward, without violating the confidence of -my friend. Indeed, I have said too much. Promise me you will not speak -of what I have told you." - -"I promise, but I am quite sure that the holly berry was dropped by -George Brendon, and that he was in Mrs. Jersey's sitting-room on that -night. He is the criminal." - -"I tell you he is not, Mrs. Ward." - -"Don't excite yourself, Mr. Train. Here is Mr. Brendon and Dorothy." -She sailed toward them with open hands. "Finished your talk. We must -say good-night." And to herself she murmured, while smiling, "I've got -you at last--I've got you at last." And Brendon shook hands with -Madame Judas, quite unconscious of her premeditated treachery. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -MR. BAWDSEY AT HOME - - -Under the rule of Miss Bull--for Margery was a mere figure-head--the -house in Amelia Square was much more lively. Most of the old boarders -had departed, as their nerves would not permit them to stop in a -dwelling wherein a crime had been committed. Mrs. Taine carried her -knitting to her sister's house at Clapham, Mr. Granger took the "Death -of Nelson" to a boarding-house on Highgate Hill, and Harmer went to -rejuvenate his antiquity at some German baths. In place of these -ancient creatures came bright young men and girls who were up to date -in every way. None of them minded about the crime. The house was -cheap, it was now bright, and in a few months the tragedy was almost -forgotten. No one would have recognized the changed atmosphere of the -place, save for Miss Bull, who still sat nightly playing Patience in -her favorite corner. - -So little did she mind the horror of the murder that she took up her -abode in Madame's sitting-room, where it had happened. She still -retained her own bedroom, and Margery kept hers; but the sitting-room -Miss Bull found very pleasant, for she could ask her friends into it -for afternoon tea without having to mix with the too-lively boarders -in the drawing-room. And the majority of them were extremely lively; -so much so that Miss Bull sent several away and checked the exuberant -spirits of the others. The girls played ping-pong, the men sang -music-hall ditties, and in conjunction they tried to gamble. But Miss -Bull soon put a stop to that. She had no notion that the house should -get a bad name after her difficulty in obtaining the lease from Lord -Derrington. - -Of course, in spite of the fast air which certainly pervaded the -house, all things were very proper. Miss Bull was a lady and saw that -things were kept decent. The boarders feared her bright black eyes and -her sharp tongue, and were always glad when she retired to her -sitting-room. When they waxed too noisy, the little old maid would -appear like an unquiet ghost, and the clamor would die away. But Miss -Bull was also liked, as she was a very affable hostess. - -She was thoroughly happy now, as she had what she most desired--power; -and thought, like Satan, that it was better to rule in a certain place -than to serve in the higher spheres. Margery was now, as ever, her -docile slave, and Miss Bull governed with a rod of iron. She dismissed -some of the servants, among them Jarvey, who had bettered himself by -becoming a page-boy in a West-End mansion. - -Among the new boarders Miss Bull took most notice of Bawdsey, who -occupied the rooms formerly inhabited by Train. On his arrival he had -asked particularly for these rooms, saying that he had once lived in -them when he stopped with Mrs. Jersey many years before. After some -thought Miss Bull remembered the man. He had boarded in the house, and -had been a great favorite with Madame, but had later gone to America, -and for some time had remained away. He expressed the greatest sorrow -for the death of the old lady, but declared that he was very pleased -with the house as managed by Miss Bull. The little woman liked him, as -his conversation was amusing and he was most polite. But had she known -that he was a private inquiry agent she might not have approved of him -so much. Miss Bull was a lady and drew the line at spies. - -What Bawdsey was she never inquired, as she was the least curious of -women. His habits were certainly eccentric, for sometimes he would -remain away for a week, and at other times would stop constantly in -the house. He often remained in bed for the day and had his meals -brought to him. This he called his bed-cure, and stated that he -suffered from nerves. He told Miss Bull quite gratuitously that he had -a small income and supplemented it by taking photographs of scenery -and selling them to London firms. But he declared that he was not a -professional photographer. He simply traveled here and there, and -photographed any scenery which struck him as pretty. The London -photographers gave him good prices for these, but he stated that he -merely did such artistic work for the sake of an occupation. "I am -simple in my tastes," said Mr. Bawdsey, "and what I have keeps me in -luxury. But a man, even of my age, must be up and doing. Better to -wear out than rust out." - -Miss Bull assented. For the greater part of her life she had been -rusting, and now that she had taken command of the house found that -wearing out gave her an interest in things and prevented her from -being bored. She liked to hear Bawdsey tell of his travels, and -frequently asked him into her sitting-room for that purpose. He seemed -to have been everywhere and to have seen everything. It appeared from -his own confession that he began his travels at the early age of -seventeen, when he went to Milan. And the man talked freely about -himself--so freely that Miss Bull, in spite of her suspicious nature, -never dreamed that all this chatter was for the purpose of throwing -dust in her sharp eyes. - -A week after the little dinner at Mrs. Ward's, Bawdsey sent a note to -Brendon asking him to call on a certain afternoon, and when George, -anxious to continue the acquaintance, and curious to know how Bawdsey -had procured his address, arrived, he was shown up to the well-known -room. Bawdsey welcomed him with enthusiasm, and much in the same style -as Lola did, but in a less theatrical manner. - -"My preserver," said Bawdsey, shaking hands vigorously, and George -laughed. - -"You put me in mind of a lady I know," he said; "she uses the same -term--quite unnecessarily, as it happens." - -"I don't agree with you," answered Bawdsey, to the astonishment of his -visitor. "When a woman is rescued from starvation she has a right to -call her good Samaritan the best of names." - -"Oh," said Brendon, taking a seat, "so Lola has told you." - -Bawdsey nodded. "I guess so," said he, with a pronounced American -twang--somewhat too pronounced, George thought. "She told me all about -your visit the other night." - -"Did she never speak of me before?" - -"Why, of course she spoke. I tell you, sir, that the girl is just -bubbling over with gratitude. And you're a good man, Mr. Brendon. Yes, -sir, some. You saved her and you saved me, and I sha'n't forget, and -neither will she." - -"Yet you said, when last we met, that she meant me harm." - -"Jealousy, Mr. Brendon, sheer jealousy. I heard her talking of you, -and wishing to marry you, so you can guess----" - -"That you wish to put me against her." - -"Not exactly that," responded Bawdsey, coolly. "I wish to choke you -off. You see, Mr. Brendon, I love her." - -"So she told me." - -"Quite so, and she informed me that she had informed you. Well, I was -a trifle jealous, as I'd lay down my life to make that lady Mrs. -Bawdsey. But when I learned that you admired and were almost engaged -to Miss Ward----" - -"How the devil did you find that out?" asked George. - -"Without the use of the word devil," said Bawdsey, dryly. "That is a -long story, Mr. Brendon." - -"You seem to know a great deal about me," said Brendon, nettled. - -"I made it my business to find out, sir." - -"Don't you think that is rather impertinent?" - -"Well," drawled Bawdsey, combing his fingers through his ruddy locks, -"you might put it that way if you like. A fortnight ago I should not -have minded whether you thought me impertinent or not. But now that -you saved my life I don't mind telling you that I wish to gain and -retain your good opinion." - -"Why?" asked George, more and more puzzled. - -"Because I'm that rare animal--a grateful man. You have had a bad time -all your life, Mr. Brendon, but now you shall have a good one, and I -am the man who is going to help you right along." - -George looked at him helplessly. He found it difficult to understand -what all this meant. "Of course I know, from what Lola said, that you -are a private inquiry agent," he remarked with hesitation. - -"Vidocq & Co.," said Bawdsey, briskly, "23 Augusta Street, Strand. -That's me Mr. Brendon, but you needn't mention it in this shanty." - -"Are you an American, Mr. Bawdsey?" - -"I am anything that suits. I can talk all languages, and try to tell -the truth in every one. And the best day's work you ever did for -yourself, Mr. Brendon, was in dragging me from under the feet of that -horse. Yes, sir, I'm in line with you forever." - -"This is all amusing, but a trifle confusing," said Brendon, feeling -that he must get to the bottom of this chatter. "Will you answer a few -questions, Mr. Bawdsey?" - -"Yes. Fire ahead. Wait! Will you take whisky?" - -"No, thanks. Yes, I'll take a cigar." - -"Henry Clay," said Bawdsey, passing along a box; "and the questions?" - -"You are a private inquiry agent?" asked George, when the cigar was -well alight and Bawdsey had subsided into a chair. - -"That's so. Vidocq & Company--an attractive title, I guess." - -"And you were employed by Lola to watch me?" - -"I was. Love will do anything for the object of its affections." - -"Humph! there are different ways of looking at that. But you were also -engaged by Lord Derrington to watch me?" - -Bawdsey did not display the least surprise. "That's very creditable to -your observation, Mr. Brendon. It's true." - -"How did Lord Derrington find out that I was passing under the name of -George Brendon?" - -"Well, sir, if you will shove advertisements into the paper asking -about the celebration of the marriage of Percy Vane and Miss Rosina -Lockwood you must expect to be dropped upon." - -"Oh, that was the way you found out!" - -"That was the way," nodded Bawdsey. "You had the answers----" - -"I had no answers," said Brendon, quickly. - -"I am quite sure of that," replied the detective, coolly. "We should -have heard of you in a court of law had you been successful. But what -I mean to say is that you asked for the answers to be sent to G. B., -Pembroke Square, Kensington. Derrington spotted that, and seeing that -the marriage referred to was that of his son to----" - -George waved his hand impatiently. "I see! I see! He hired you, and -you looked me up." - -"Quite so. I have had you under observation for the last six months." - -"Confound it," cried Brendon, uncomfortably, "and I never knew." - -Bawdsey winked. "I know my business," he said. "You don't find me -sending myself up on any occasion. Any more questions, sir?" - -"Only one," replied George. "Will you tell me exactly what you are -doing in this galley?" - -"Certainly. You shall have the whole story, Mr. Brendon. But in the -first place I shall ask you a question in my turn. Do you know why I -asked you to come and see me to-day?" - -Brendon shook his head. "I have not the least idea," he confessed. - -"I'll enlighten you," was the other man's reply; "to warn you that you -are in danger of arrest." - -"I in danger of arrest?" George jumped up. "What do you mean?" - -"Oh, my meaning is clear enough. There is a chance that you may be -accused of having murdered Mrs. Jersey." - -George dropped back into his chair with a white face. "You must be mad -to say such a thing. Who accuses me?" - -"Lord Derrington." - -"On what grounds?" - -"On certain information he obtained from Mrs. Ward." - -"What? Is she in it, too?" - -"Very much in it. She is your bitter enemy. You see, Mr. Brendon, it -is not her game that you should marry the daughter. Mrs. Ward knows -that you are a clever man with a will of your own, and that she will -not be able to twist you around her finger, which is what she wishes -to do with any son-in-law who may come her way. That young fool Vane -is the man she wants. He will inherit the title and a good income. -Mrs. Ward, should he marry the girl, will benefit. If the title and -income came your way she would make very little out of the business. -Consequently she will stick at nothing to get you out of the way." - -"But she doesn't know that I claim to be Lord Derrington's grandson?" - -"Indeed, she does," replied Bawdsey, quickly. "Derrington told her all -about it." - -"Why?" - -"Now that," said Bawdsey, shaking his head and looking puzzled, "is -one of the things I can't make out." - -George thought for a moment. "I was at Mrs. Ward's the other evening," -he said slowly. "Lord Derrington was there. Did he know then that I -was his grandson?" - -"He did. He has known ever since you put the advertisement in the -paper and I looked you up." - -"Humph! Then he was putting me through my paces," said Brendon to -himself. "What a clever man he is in concealing his thoughts. And Mrs. -Ward knew also who I was?" - -Bawdsey nodded. "Yes. And after that evening she came to see Lord -Derrington to suggest how you should be got rid of." - -"Ah!" George was now perfectly cool as he saw that Bawdsey, being so -frank, was ready to be his friend. "And how did she propose to do -that, Mr. Bawdsey? By having me arrested----" - -"With the alternative that you should give up all attempts to prove -your birth and go to Australia." - -"And surrender my claim to Miss Ward's hand, I suppose?" - -"Of course. But that would go without speaking if you went to -Australia. It's a case of threatening, Mr. Brendon." - -"Was Lord Derrington agreeable to this suggestion?" - -"Yes. He hates you, and told me to see you and put the matter to you. -You have a week to think over it, and at the end of that time, Mr. -Brendon, if you don't leave England you will be arrested." - -"No," replied Brendon, calmly, "I will not be arrested. Setting aside -the fact that there is no evidence which implicates me in the crime, -Lord Derrington, for his own sake, will not have his grandson arrested -and his dirty linen washed in public. Whether there was a marriage or -not I am his flesh and blood. Why does he hate me?" - -"I can't say, sir. He never explained. But he does hate you." - -"Humph! I see no reason--a man can't help his birth, and I am quite as -presentable as Walter Vane." - -"Much more so," said Bawdsey, quickly. "He is a fool and a miserable -little beast. He sent a bracelet to Miss Velez." - -"Oh! and naturally you think the worst of him. Well, it is no use my -conjecturing the reason of Lord Derrington's dislike. But I can well -understand why Mrs. Ward wishes me out of the way. On what grounds -does she accuse me of being concerned in this crime?" - -"On the strength of a story related by a friend of yours, who----" - -"I knew it," interrupted Brendon, starting up and beginning to pace -the room. "That was why she asked Leonard Train to dinner." - -"That's the man," said Bawdsey, coolly. "He occupied these rooms, I -believe, and on the night of the murder you stopped with him." - -"I did. In yonder bedroom. So he betrayed me?" - -"My dear sir, I don't think he could help himself. Mrs. Ward is as -clever as the devil, and as unscrupulous. She got out of him that you -had been in the sitting-room of Mrs. Jersey at midnight." - -"That is untrue----" began George, violently, when Bawdsey stopped -him. - -"So it is, to Mrs. Ward, to Lord Derrington, and to the public. But so -far as I am concerned, Mr. Brendon, it is a fact. You were in Mrs. -Jersey's room about the time she was murdered." - -"How can you prove that?" asked George, quickly and very pale. - -"Oh, I can prove it easily enough, and I will soon. But confess." - -"That I killed the woman? No, I never laid a finger on her." - -"I believe that," said Bawdsey. "If I thought you were guilty I -should--no--not even then. You saved my life, and I'm grateful." - -"I believe you are my friend," said George, gloomily, sitting down. - -"You would have been arrested by now were I not, Mr. Brendon." - -"No. I tell you neither Mrs. Ward nor Lord Derrington will go so far. -They will try and intimidate me. But they won't succeed." - -"You'll fight them?" - -George set his face. "While there is breath in my body." - -"I knew you were a plucky 'un," said Bawdsey, admiringly, "but you -must be aware that your position is perilous." - -"How so? Mr. Train can prove that he locked the sitting-room -door--that one there," and George pointed. "The key was under his -pillow, and in the morning the door was still fast. How could I have -got out to visit Mrs. Jersey's room without his knowledge?" - -"That is what puzzles Train and Mrs. Ward and Lord Derrington," was -Bawdsey's reply. "They asked me what I thought. Well----" - -"One moment," interrupted Brendon. "Why does Train believe that I was -in Mrs. Jersey's room?" - -"He found beside the table a yellow holly berry, and you wore----" - -George started. "I did--I did," he muttered; "it must have been -brushed off the sprig when I stooped to touch her." - -"Ah!" said Bawdsey, in a voice of triumph, "then you admit you were in -the room?" - -"Yes, to you, but to no one else." - -"I'm glad you trust me so far," said Bawdsey, genuinely pleased; "your -confidence is not misplaced, Mr. Brendon. And you saw Mrs. Jersey?" - -"I saw her body. She was dead." - -"At what time was that?" - -"About twelve o'clock." - -"Why did you not give the alarm?" - -"What?" George smiled derisively. "You think I should have put the -rope round my neck?" - -"No. But--well, no matter. We can talk of that later. But as to -getting out of this room When the door was locked?" - -"I didn't get out of this room, Mr. Bawdsey. I----" - -"Wait a bit. Come into the room you slept in," said the detective, -leading the way. "I have made a discovery." - -The bedroom was in the same condition as when Brendon had last seen -it, with the exception that the wardrobe was moved to one side. The -wall at the back, which divided the room from the passage, appeared a -blank, but on touching a spring a masked door opened. Shelves were -revealed and it was evident that this door formed the back of a -cupboard that was in the passage--a cupboard used by the housemaid, as -was apparent from the dust-shovel and brooms lying within it. For a -moment Bawdsey left the door open and looked at Brendon with quiet -triumph. Then he snapped the door to and the wall appeared in its -former blank condition. No one, without making a close examination, -would have suspected the presence of that secret door. "A housemaid -might open the cupboard door in the passage at any time," explained -Mr. Bawdsey, accounting for his action, "and it would never do for her -to look through the back of the shelves into this room. She might -talk, Mr. Brendon, and then there would be trouble. Yes," Bawdsey -rubbed his nose and looked at the astonished George, "I am sure there -would be great trouble." - -"I congratulate you on your cleverness, Mr. Bawdsey," said Brendon -when he had somewhat recovered. "You have discovered my secret. I -should like to know how you discovered it." - -"Well," said Bawdsey, pushing the wardrobe back to its place with an -effort, "you see when I learned through the advertisement that George -Brendon was the grandson of Lord Derrington I told him of it. He -related your history." - -"Including the murder of my father?" - -"Yes, including that," replied Bawdsey with a queer expression; "but -that has nothing to do with the matter in hand, Mr. Brendon." - -"I'm not so sure," retorted George. "I should not be at all surprised -to find that Mrs. Jersey was murdered to keep her quiet on that -point." - -"How do you make that out?" - -"Well, she was in San Remo at the time my father was murdered. She -loved him, and I dare say, in spite of having been discharged, watched -him. She might know who the lady in blue--but I forgot, you are -ignorant of all these things." - -"Not at all. Don't I tell you that Lord Derrington told me the whole -story? I see what you mean. You think that Mrs. Jersey might know who -killed your father, and for the sake of shutting her up the assassin -committed the second murder." - -"That is my idea," said George, coolly. - -"It's ingenious, but it won't hold water. However, we can talk of that -on another occasion. In the mean time I wish to tell you how I -discovered the secret door." - -"There's no need to. Derrington told you that I knew this house, as my -grandfather had brought me up in it. When you knew through Mrs. Ward -that I had passed a night here, and learned through her, by means of -Train, that the yellow holly berry had been found in the woman's -sitting-room, you set to work to find out how I escaped from this -room. You knew that Train had locked the door." - -"Yes," answered Bawdsey, "he told Mrs. Ward that." - -"He seems to have told her everything. However, to make a long story -short, you hunted for an exit and you found it." - -"That's so," replied Bawdsey, quietly, "and now we had better return -to the sitting-room and talk over the matter quietly." - -"One moment," said George. "Have you told Lord Derrington or Mrs. Ward -of this discovery?" - -"No, and I won't tell them, either. I wish to get you out of trouble, -Mr. Brendon. They haven't the least idea that you could leave the -room, and the impression with them is that Train is screening you." -Bawdsey shrugged his shoulders with contempt and passed George another -cigar. "Just as though the man would incriminate himself if that were -so." - -George did not light his cigar. "Well, as you have told me so much, -Mr. Bawdsey, I may as well confess." - -"If I am to help you I must know all." - -"Then you shall know--whatever I can tell you." George hesitated, -and Bawdsey guessed that he was not going to be so frank as was -necessary. However, he made no remark, and Brendon continued: "I came -to this house to see Mrs. Jersey and get the truth out of her. It was -my intention to speak to her the next morning. However, in the -drawing-room she stated that she wished the company to disperse at ten -o'clock as she had business to attend to. Also she came up to this -room to see if I and my friend were in bed at eleven. I guessed that -she intended to see some one, and wondering if the expected person had -anything to do with my business I determined to see her on that night. -When Train was asleep I locked my bedroom door and made use of the -cupboard." - -"How did you know of its existence?" - -"I lived here, as you know. This is a queer old house, full of these -sort of things. I expect that door was made by some scamp so that he -might be able to lead a double life." - -Bawdsey nodded. "I know. Fair to the world and black to the heart." - -"As a boy I discovered the cupboard," replied Brendon, not taking -notice of this interruption, "and I am ashamed to say that I sometimes -made use of it in my teens to go to the theater unbeknown to my -grandfather. On that night I used it again, and went to the -sitting-room of Mrs. Jersey. It was about twelve o'clock. The door of -the room was closed. I opened it, and saw her sitting at the table, -dead, as she was discovered in the morning. In stooping over her to -see if she still breathed, the berry must have fallen. It says a great -deal for Train's acuteness that he suspected me on such evidence. I -now see why he was so different to me when we parted, and why he has -been so stiff of late." - -"What did you do after you found that the woman was dead?" - -"I returned to my bedroom and said nothing about it. You see, since I -wanted something from Mrs. Jersey, and that desire might have come out -in the evidence, there was every chance that I would be accused of -having murdered her. There was certainly motive enough." - -"I don't agree with you," replied Bawdsey; "however, I quite -understand that under the circumstances you lost your nerve. You -returned to your room, and expressed suitable surprise the next -morning." - -George nodded. "Quite so; and then Train's having locked this door -made me think that all was safe. Had he not told----" - -"Oh, he has told very little," rejoined Bawdsey. "After all, nothing -can be done if I hold my tongue." - -"Nothing will be done in any case," said George, grimly, "but I thank -you for warning me, Mr. Bawdsey. What are your plans?" - -"I have none at present. Lord Derrington asked me to watch you." - -"That you certainly have done, and if you choose you can go on -watching me. But why do you stop in this house?" - -"Oh, I knew Mrs. Jersey some years ago, and returned here for old -times' sake." - -George shrugged his shoulders. He felt convinced that Bawdsey was not -speaking openly. But then Brendon, on his part, had held something -back. Neither man was sufficiently sure of the other to be perfectly -frank. But the main thing was that Bawdsey, being friendly, was -content to let matters stand as they were. That is, so far as regarded -George himself, for Brendon felt that the detective's presence in that -house had something to do with the murder. He rose to go. - -"Well, how do we stand?" asked Bawdsey. - -"Much as we did before," replied George, "save that I know you will -hold your tongue and not get me into trouble." - -"I shall certainly do that. But remember Mrs. Ward." - -"Lord Derrington can stop her mouth." - -"Ah, but will he?" asked Bawdsey, dubiously. - -"I shall call on Lord Derrington and see," answered Brendon, and with -a nod left the room. - -"He's a plucked 'un," said Bawdsey. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A FIRESIDE TYRANT - - -Lord Derrington should have been born Emperor of Ancient Rome or of -Modern Russia. He would have made an admirable despot, as he was -fairly good-humored when all about him were on their knees serving -him. Even then his temper was none of the best. Those who held their -own he hated, while the many who gave in to his domineering will -received unmerited contempt as their reward. Even at seventy-five the -old man's temper had not cooled, and the majority of people avoided -him as they would the plague. - -Originally he had started life with a sufficiently imperious will, -and, thanks to his position as a titled and wealthy orphan, he had -been enabled to exercise it at a very early age. The habit of seeing -every one terrified of his mere glance grew upon him, and he became -unbearable, not only to live with, but even to meet. His wife, after -presenting him with two sons, had died gladly, seeing no other way of -escaping her tyrant, and the report went that he had browbeaten her -out of existence. Derrington would have married again for the sake of -his boys, but like Henry VIII., whom he greatly resembled, he could -find no one willing to endure his yoke. Consequently he became -something of a woman-hater, and entered the political world. In this -he met with a certain amount of opposition, which did him good, and -might have been trained into a moderately decent member of society but -that his reformation was cut short by his being appointed ambassador -to a prominent European power. Here his temper had full swing, and he -bullied everybody for three years. At the end of that time he nearly -caused a war and was recalled. There was some talk of his being -appointed Viceroy for India, but those in power had sufficient pity on -the country not to send him. Derrington, in India, would have been on -"his native heath" for tyrannizing. - -Failing, from his reputation, to get another appointment, Derrington -took to quarreling with his sons. Percy, the elder, had a spice of the -paternal temper and refused to submit. Consequently he was forbidden -the house, and crowned his iniquities in the old man's eyes by -marrying Rosina Lockwood. This was a severe blow to Derrington, who -had the pride as well as the temper of Lucifer. He refused to hold any -communication with Percy, and thus the son remained abroad, living on -an income inherited from his mother until he was murdered at San Remo. -As his income ceased on his death (for it reverted to his mother's -relatives), George, the boy, was left dependent on the charity of his -two grandfathers. Derrington denied the marriage and refused to -acknowledge the infant. Lockwood took the child to his home and -brought him up. Then the lad disappeared when Lockwood died, and -reappeared under the name of Brendon. Derrington had discovered his -grandson's identity in the way described by Bawdsey. The younger Vane -was a fool, meek as Moses, and completely cowed by his terrible -father. He married an equally meek lady, and the two were crushed by -the old tyrant. Finally, both died, as gladly as the late Lady -Derrington had done, and left Walter Vane to carry on the title. The -old lord detested Walter as a milksop, but he refused to acknowledge -George, preferring the fool to the clever man, from sheer hatred of -Brendon's father. - -Derrington House, in St. Giles Square, was an immense palatial mansion -which cost no end of money to keep up, and as its lord was not -over-rich he would have done better to remove to a more modest -residence. But Derrington's pride would not permit him to scrimp his -living, and he dwelt alone in the big house. When Walter's parents -were alive they had occupied a corner, so that Derrington could bully -them at his leisure, and now Walter himself remained as a whipping-boy. -But he was cunning enough to keep out of his grandfather's way, -and contrived to be more independent than his parents had been. -Perhaps Derrington was too old to carry on an active war, but he -certainly gave Walter more license than he had ever accorded to any -human being. A good deal of contempt for the weak little dandy had to -do with this permitting him to act as he pleased. There is no -excitement in whipping a sheep. - -The meeting with George at Mrs. Ward's had touched the old man nearly. -He had never set eyes on Percy's son before, and had no idea that the -young fellow was so handsome and clever. Derrington felt that he could -take some pride in George, as a man who would not permit himself to be -bullied. He had as strong a will as his grandfather, and the older man -respected him. Moreover, George's refusal to accept an income when he -took a feigned name, and his determined fight for his birthright, -pleased the despot. But for his pride and hatred of the father, -Derrington might have acknowledged the marriage. He knew in his own -mind that such a marriage had taken place, and that George was -legitimate, but he did not know where the ceremony had been -celebrated. The sole evidence he possessed was a letter, written by -Percy from Paris, stating that he had married Rosina Lockwood. -Derrington at the time accepted the fact, and had never thought of -inquiring about details from his son, and of course when Percy died it -was too late. Mrs. Jersey knew, and Mrs. Jersey had made use of her -knowledge, but she never told Derrington anything. Had she done so, -her hold over him might have waxed feeble, although, owing to her -knowledge, and to the old man's determination not to acknowledge -George, it could not be done away with altogether. - -The library in Derrington House was a vast and splendid apartment with -a magnificent collection of books. Its owner, driven back on himself -by his misanthropic detestation of his species, and the dislike his -fellow-men had for him, read a great deal. Sometimes he wrote articles -for the quarterlies, principally on political questions. He went out -into society in spite of his age, out of sheer contrariety and not -because he enjoyed himself. Like Vespasian, he was determined to -die standing, and showed himself at several great houses, at -race-meetings, at Hurlingham, and sometimes in the House. His -movements were carefully chronicled in the _Morning Post_, and he took -care to let his friends know that he was still alive. For the rest, he -sat in his library reading, or writing his memoirs. These he had -arranged to have published after his death, and there were many -families who would have given much money to have seen them behind the -fire. Derrington had known every one worth knowing for the last -half-century, and had as bitter a pen as he had a tongue. Also, he -knew many secrets of diplomacy. So it may be guessed that many great -families did not look forward to the publication of these memoirs with -particular pleasure. Derrington knew this, and chuckled grimly, much -as Heine did in the like case. - -One afternoon he was adding a chapter to the book, when a card was -brought to him. Derrington nearly jumped from his seat when he read -the name of George Brendon. At first he was inclined to tear up the -card and send the pieces out to the insolent young man who thus dared -to trespass on his privacy. But on second thoughts he decided to -accord him an interview. He knew that by this time Mr. Bawdsey must -have informed George that his grandfather knew him as Brendon, and the -old autocrat wished to see if George would behave as pluckily at their -second interview as he had done at the first. Moreover, he could not -forget the good looks and clever conversation of the young man. It -would be absurd to say that Derrington's heart yearned over this -unacknowledged twig of the family tree, for according to common report -he had no heart. But he certainly felt an unwonted emotion when -Brendon, tall and handsome, composed and ready for battle, stepped -into the room. Derrington knew that the young man was ready for -battle, for he saw the light of war in his eyes. - -When the door was closed and the two were alone, Derrington took his -station on the hearth-rug with an impassive expression of countenance. -He waited for George to open the war of words, and after a polite -greeting he waited in silence. George was not at all embarrassed. He -knew perfectly well that he had a difficult task before him, and did -not choose to shirk it. With the family obstinacy he was determined on -obtaining his birthright, and if he set all London alight with scandal -he was bent upon gaining his end. The two men stared coolly at one -another like two fencers, but at the outset the buttons were off the -foils. - -"I am sure you are not surprised to see me, Lord Derrington," said -Brendon with his eyes fixed on the old man's grim face. - -"Not half so surprised as you were at seeing Bawdsey," said -Derrington, not to be outdone in coolness. - -George smiled. "I was not at all surprised at seeing the man," he said -calmly. "It was my happy lot to rescue him from an accident, and it -was my intention to call on him." - -"For what reason?" asked Derrington, who could not help betraying -astonishment, in spite of his self-control. - -"You must excuse my not answering that question." - -"Oh, certainly," replied Lord Derrington, with ironical politeness; -"but you are not so diplomatic as I thought." - -"Because I decline a reply?" - -"Because you allow me to see that you are on good terms with the man I -employ. A clever diplomatist would have allowed me to think that -Bawdsey was hostile and so have used the man against me." - -"There is no need for me to stoop to such crooked ways," said Brendon, -with some scorn, "and I always find the truth tells in the long run." - -"Ah! You've never been an ambassador." - -"When I am, I shall still tell the truth." - -Derrington smiled grimly. "Oh, then, it is your intention to enter -political life?" - -"I think we discussed that fully the other evening." - -Derrington sat down and leaned his elbows on the table. His temper was -rising, as he was not accustomed to be treated in this off-hand way. -"Come, sir, let us understand one another. State the situation so as -to clear the ground for a proper argument." - -"Certainly," said George, with frigid politeness. "You know who I am, -I understand." - -"No, I don't. So far as I know you are George Brendon. I met you at -Mrs. Ward's, and----" - -"And were good enough to hold a long conversation with me," finished -George, smartly. "I see, sir, it is necessary for me to be explicit." - -"It's the best course," rejoined Derrington, looking at him with hard -eyes and secretly admiring his self-control. - -"Then I have to state that my name is George Vane, and that I am the -son of Percy Vane and Rosina Lockwood." - -"Indeed! What proof have you of this?" - -"The evidence of my nurse, Jane Fraser, who attended to me when my -father, your eldest son, was alive. The testimony of my former -guardian, Mr. Ireland, who took charge of me after the death of my -mother's father. Finally, my certificate of birth, which I will show -you whenever you choose." - -Derrington was confounded by this calm answer. He would have -blustered, but George's politeness gave him no chance of losing his -temper, and without fuel it would not blaze up. "You seem to be well -provided with proofs," said he, grimly. "Let us admit, for the sake of -argument, that you are my grandson. But the marriage----" - -"Ah, that is the difficult point! And it is unpleasant for me to talk -of the subject. In justice to the memory of my mother I hold that -there was a marriage." - -"And in justice to my family I hold that there was none." - -"In that case, Lord Derrington, we join issue." - -"You are quite a lawyer, sir," sneered the old man. - -"I thought of studying for the bar at one time." - -"Indeed, and why did you not?" - -"I had no money to pay my fees," said George, coldly. - -The old lord winced. He could not but admire his pluck, and, aware -that the young fellow was his own flesh and blood, regretted that he -should lack any chance of embarking on what promised to be a brilliant -career. "You could have had money had you chosen," said he, roughly. - -"I know. For that reason I changed my name to Brendon." - -"Well," said Derrington, irritably, "let us come to the point. You say -you are my grandson. I admit that, as I am aware of what evidence you -can bring forward. But I decline to admit that you are my heir. The -onus of proof lies with you." - -"I am prepared to discover the proof if your lordship will behave in -an honorable manner." - -"What!" roared Derrington, rising with a fierce look. "Do you mean to -say, you jackanapes, that I am behaving dishonorably?" - -"Extremely so," said Brendon, coldly. "You have had me watched by a -detective; you threaten, through him, to have me arrested for a crime -of which I am innocent, if I do not give up my attempts to gain my -birthright and--" here George leaned forward--"Dorothy Ward. Do you -call these actions honorable?" - -"How dare you?--how dare you?" was all that Derrington could say. - -"You should know how I dare, sir, considering I am your grandson." - -"I'll have you thrown out of the house." - -George rose. "I am willing to leave you, sir, if that is the tone you -take. But as to being thrown out, that is quite another question." - -"Do you know who I am?" questioned the other, blustering. - -"Very well. You are the man who is keeping me out of my rights." - -"I am not!" - -"I say you are." - -The two faced one another without blenching. Derrington tried to cow -George, and George refused to be cowed. It was the old lord's eyes -which fell first. Brendon had youth as well as will on his side, and -these dominated Derrington. For the first time in his tyrannical life -he gave way. - -"There is no need for you to go yet," he grunted, flinging himself -into a seat. "I am willing to hear what you have to say." - -Brendon sat down also. "I don't think I have any more to say." - -"Then why did you come here?" - -"To ask you if you consider it honorable to threaten me. I have -already done so. There is no more to be said on my part." - -Derrington dug a pen viciously into the blotting-pad. He did not know -very well what to say. Had George sworn and blustered he might have -been able to talk him down and to bully him into giving way. But -Brendon was perfectly calm and polite. He was not to be intimidated in -any way, and the ordinary methods would not do in this case. -Derrington was reduced to reason. "What is it you wish?" - -"I wish you to recognize my mother's marriage and to state that I am -your heir." - -"Anything else?" sneered Derrington. - -"Yes. You will publicly recognize me; you will allow me an income -sufficient to maintain the dignity of my real name of George Vane, and -you will order Mrs. Ward to keep silent." - -"Mrs. Ward? What have I to do with her?" - -"A great deal, apparently. You told her my story, and as she does not -want me to marry her daughter she will move heaven and earth to ruin -me by using her knowledge." - -"How can she ruin you?" - -"I think you understand, sir. The story told by my friend Train----" - -"Friend! Judas, rather." - -"No. He is only a weak man who is as wax in the hands of a clever and -pretty woman. But Mrs. Ward got sufficient out of him to place me in a -somewhat perilous position." - -"Were you in the room where the woman was murdered? Speak plainly." - -"I came on here purposely to speak plainly," rejoined Brendon, dryly, -"for your safety as well as for my own." - -"Safety, sir!" Derrington grew crimson. "What the devil do you mean?" - -"I mean that I can speak freely to you, as I know perfectly well that -for the honor of our family----" - -"Our family--confound you!" - -"Our family," repeated George, "of which some day I hope to be the -head. For its honor, I say, you will not take these matters into -court. I was in the room of Mrs. Jersey. I saw her dead!" - -"And you know who killed her?" - -"No. I can't say that for certain." George looked keenly at his -grandfather. The old man appeared uneasy. Suddenly Brendon spoke. "I -should like to know what you were doing in Mrs. Jersey's house on the -night she was murdered?" - -Derrington dashed down his pen furiously and rose. "You go too far, -sir; you go too far!" he roared. - -"Not any further than you intended to go. If you threaten me I have a -right to protect myself." - -"In what way?" - -"By telling you that if I am in a perilous position, you are also." - -"Do you mean to say that I murdered the woman?" - -"By no means," said Brendon, quickly. "I should not think of doing -such a thing. But I do say you were in that house after eleven." - -"I was not," panted the old nobleman, savagely, and glared at his -grandson with bloodshot eyes. - -"You were," insisted Brendon; "there is no need to tell you how I got -out of my bedroom unbeknown to Train, but I did. I came downstairs to -see Mrs. Jersey at half-past eleven or thereabouts. I crept down the -stairs and saw you standing in the light of the hall lamp. You had on -a fur coat, and I recognized you by your unusual height. Also by the -color of your coat. Some months before you wore that coat--it is a -claret-colored one trimmed with sable--at a race-meeting. You were -pointed out to me, and it was the first time I had set eyes on you. It -was you in the hall." - -"Did you see my face?" asked Derrington. - -"No. But the coat and the height, and my knowledge that you were -connected with Mrs. Jersey----" - -"I wasn't connected with the jade," flashed out Derrington. "She came -to me years ago and said she could prove the marriage. I tried to get -out of her the name of the church where it took place. She refused to -give it, and said if I did not pension her off she would go to your -guardian, Ireland, and get him to help her to prove that you were -legitimate. I hated your father, sir, and as to your mother----" - -"No," cried Brendon, rising, "not a word against my mother." - -"Only this, that she was not well-born. The daughter of a -music-master. Not the wife for my son." - -"She was his wife, however. Leave my mother's name out of it and go -on, sir. You say that Mrs. Jersey could have proved the marriage." - -"Yes," growled Derrington, rather cowed by Brendon's manner. "I did -not wish her to do so, for the reasons I have stated." - -"Very unworthy reasons," said George, coldly. - -"You know nothing about it, sir," flamed out the old man, slapping his -hand on the table. "My family is as old as the Conquest." - -"As the future head of it I am glad to hear that." - -Derrington looked as though he could have struck George, who simply -made the remark to punish him for his insolence. "Never mind that," -said he, controlling his temper. "I bought that house from your -mother's father--the music-master," he sneered, "and gave it to Mrs. -Jersey rent free. I also allowed her an annuity. She held her tongue -for many years. Then she saw that confounded advertisement in the -papers and threatened to tell you the truth on the chance of getting -more money out of you when I was dead. I refused, and she then told me -that she had written out a confession----" - -"I thought as much," interrupted George. "But that has been stolen." - -"By whom?" - -"By the assassin." - -"And who is the assassin?" - -"I can't say. But if use is made of that confession either you or I -will learn who killed Mrs. Jersey." - -"Why you or I?" - -"Because we alone can make use of the confession and pay money for it. -The thing would be no use to any one else. But I now understand Mrs. -Jersey's possession of the house. Were you in it on that night?" - -Derrington looked at Brendon and hesitated. Then in strange -contradiction to his usual manner, he turned away his face. "I decline -to answer that question," he growled. - -"But I saw you," insisted George. - -"You saw--there is nothing more to be said. Hold your tongue." - -"Willingly," said George, politely, "if you will silence Mrs. Ward." - -"I have no influence with the woman." - -"Oh, I think so. She wishes Dorothy to marry my cousin." - -"Your cousin!" - -"Can you deny the relationship?" - -Derrington shirked the question by assenting to Brendon's request. "I -may be able to make Mrs. Ward hold her tongue," he growled. - -"I am quite sure she will do anything you tell her, in the hope that -you will approve of a match between my cousin and her daughter." - -"And you wish me to approve?" sneered the old man. - -"As to that, it matters little. Mrs. Ward wishes Dorothy to be Lady -Derrington and to have your very excellent income. Whether she marries -me or Vane it comes to the same thing. I can't understand Mrs. Ward's -dislike and mischief-making since that is the case." - -"I can," snapped Derrington. "You are too clever for her, and Walter -is a fool." - -"Perhaps so. However, as I shall marry Dorothy it doesn't much -matter." - -"How can you marry her situated as you are?" - -"I shall be George Vane some day, sir, and then Dorothy will be my -wife." - -"I believe she will," muttered Derrington, looking at the firm face of -the young man. "Humph! So you intend to look for the certificate of -marriage?" - -"No, for the confession of Mrs. Jersey; afterward for the church which -will be mentioned in that confession. The register will prove the -marriage without the necessity of the certificate. I shouldn't wonder, -though," added Brendon, "if Mrs. Jersey had stolen that from my mother -when she died." - -"Mrs. Jersey was jade enough for anything," said Derrington. - -"Well, she is dead, and there is no use saying bad about her." - -"How will you set to work to get that certificate?" - -George wrinkled his brows. "There is only one way, sir. I must find -out who killed Mrs. Jersey. If you can help me----" - -"I can't. I know no more who murdered the woman than you do." - -"Yet you were in the house on that night." - -Derrington grew wrathful. "Don't talk rubbish, sir. If I was, I should -not mind admitting the fact. As it is----" He broke off, gnawing his -lip and avoiding Brendon's eyes. - -That the old man knew something vital to the case Brendon was certain; -that he would never confess what it was George felt perfectly sure. He -abandoned the point, as he did not wish to make Lord Derrington -incriminate himself, and he might do so. Brendon was satisfied that he -had seen him in the house on the night when Mrs. Jersey was murdered. - -"There is no more to be said," he remarked, taking up his hat. - -"No. Except that I'll give you a fair chance of finding the church. -Bawdsey shall watch you no more." - -"Thank you. And Mrs. Ward?" - -"She shall be made to hold her tongue." - -George bowed. "I am obliged to you, sir. I now see that you intend to -fight fairly. Good-day," and he departed. - -Derrington stood where he was, in deep thought. Suddenly he struck a -mighty blow on the desk. "By Heaven, he's a man after my own heart!" -said the old scamp. "He shall be my heir, he shall marry that girl; -but to exercise his wits he shall fight every inch of the way to -attain his ambition." - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -A WOMAN SCORNED - - -Dorothy was by no means of a jealous disposition. Moreover, her love -for George was so deep and pure that she trusted him entirely. -Nevertheless, having learned from the few words dropped by Vane, that -Brendon knew Lola, she felt desirous of seeing the woman. That Lola -was her rival she never for one moment believed, as she knew Vane's -malicious nature and evil tongue. But the fact remained that Brendon's -name was coupled with that of the dancer, and this incipient scandal -annoyed Miss Ward. - -There was no need for her to ask George why such a report should -prevail, for she knew that he would be able to explain in a -satisfactory manner, and, trusting him already, it was useless to -demand details. Her feelings would remain the same after the telling -of his story as they were now, therefore she avoided the disagreeable -subject. Nevertheless, she was woman enough to desire a sight of Lola, -and induced her mother to take her to the music-hall. Mrs. Ward was -very pleased to do so, but she was too clever to hint that she guessed -Dorothy's reason for making this request. - -"Certainly, my dear," she said briskly. "I am very glad that you are -coming out of your shell. Men hate a woman who can't talk of -everything, and nothing is talked about but Lola." - -"I must educate myself to please men, then," said Dorothy, dryly, "so -I may as well begin with the dancer. On what night can we go?" - -"Oh, Friday will do. Mr. Vane has invited us to dine at the Cecil, so -I'll ask him to get us a box." - -Dorothy would rather have gone with any one than with Mr. Vane, as she -disliked his feeble attempts at lovemaking. However, there was nothing -for it but to accept, since she had brought it on herself. With a -smile which encouraged her mother to think she would behave sensibly -toward Vane, she agreed to the proposed dinner-party and -companionship, and Mrs. Ward wrote a note at once. - -"I hope when she sees Lola, and hears the stories about that Brendon -man, that she may refuse to have anything more to do with him," was -Mrs. Ward's remark as she sealed her note. "I don't want to get the -Brendon man into trouble by having him arrested for the murder. And I -don't think Derrington would let me if I did wish it." - -Her last speech was prophetic, for the next day Lord Derrington paid a -visit to Curzon Street and had a short interview with Mrs. Ward, the -gist of which was that she must hold her tongue. - -"Brendon called to see me the other day," explained Derrington, -looking grim, "and he showed me plainly that he had nothing to do with -the matter." - -"But how about the holly berry?" - -"That is easily explained," replied Derrington, who, anticipating the -question, had prepared an answer. "Brendon was one of the first to -see the body, and in touching it the berry fell from the sprig. -Afterward--mind you, afterward--Mr. Train found the berry, and, not -knowing that Brendon had seen the body that morning, thought he had -been in the room on the previous night." - -"I'm sure he was," insisted Mrs. Ward. - -"You are sure of nothing of the sort. Brendon could not have got -downstairs without the connivance of Train, and you heard what Train -said." - -"He is such a fool!" - -"The more likely to tell the truth," said Derrington. Then he asked, -after a pause, "Why did you tell Dorothy to give the sprig of holly to -Brendon on that night?" - -Mrs. Ward shrugged her shoulders and looked down nervously. "Oh, it -was the merest kindness on my part," she said, trying to speak -quietly. Derrington contradicted her at once. - -"It was nothing of the sort," he declared with roughness. "You wished -him to have the yellow holly in his coat when he saw Mrs. Jersey, so -that the woman might betray herself." - -"I knew nothing about Mrs. Jersey at the time." - -"Oh, but you did! With regard to the holly, you knew from me how it -was used in connection with the death of my son at San Remo; and what -I did not tell you, you learned from other people." - -Mrs. Ward looked defiant. "Well, I did. I am sure every one knew about -the murder at the time," she said, "and I met some old frumps who gave -me all details." - -"I quite understand that; but how did you know about Mrs. Jersey?" - -"That's my business," cried Mrs. Ward, becoming imprudent. "You are -right about the holly; I sent to Devonshire expressly to get some. It -was my intention to inclose a sprig in a letter to Mrs. Jersey so as -to frighten her----" - -"What good would that have done?" - -"My business again," snapped Mrs. Ward, becoming bolder. "I had my -reason for wishing to recall your son's death to her mind, and I knew -that the yellow holly would do so most successfully. When Dorothy came -from the Park and told me that Brendon was to stop with his friend at -Mrs. Jersey's boarding-house, I thought that it would be better to let -George wear the sprig. And I managed it in such a way that neither -Dorothy nor George guessed how I planned the business. And I -succeeded. Mrs. Jersey saw the sprig and nearly fainted. I knew then -that----" Here she stopped. - -Derrington saw that it was useless to question her further. She would -only lie, and had been telling lies, for all he knew. Moreover, he did -not think she could tell him anything pertinent to the case. - -"I shall ask you nothing more," he said, rising to take his leave. -"You have some reason for all this intrigue, I have no doubt. What -your intentions are, matters little to me. I came merely to warn you -that Brendon is to be left alone." - -"You won't have him arrested?" - -"No. And what is more, I won't have him spoken about in connection -with that crime." - -Mrs. Ward forgot her desire to conciliate Derrington, forgot her -desire to marry Vane to Dorothy, forgot everything in a sudden access -of rage. "I shall do what I choose!" she cried. - -"No," said Derrington, quietly, and looking her full in the face, "you -will obey me." - -"Obey you, Lord Derrington?" - -"Yes. I have tried to conduct this interview quietly, Mrs. Ward, and -to hint that your wiser plan is to be silent, but----" - -"I don't want hints. I wish for plain speaking," raged the little -woman. "How dare you address me like this?" - -The old gentleman leaned forward suddenly and whispered a short -sentence in her ear. Mrs. Ward's face turned pearly white and she -tottered to a chair, closing her eyes as she fell into it. Derrington -surveyed her with a pitiless expression. - -"You will be silent about Brendon?" he asked. - -"Yes," moaned Mrs. Ward. "I will say nothing." - -When Derrington departed Mrs. Ward retired to bed after canceling her -engagements for the evening. For twenty-four hours she stopped there, -explaining to Dorothy that she was taking a rest cure. It apparently -did her good, for on the evening of the day appointed for the meeting -at the Cecil she arose looking bright and quite herself again. She had -quite got over the fright given to her by Derrington, and, when she -saw him later, treated him quite in her old manner. On his side the -old gentleman made no difference, but he wondered how she was carrying -herself so boldly. At once it occurred to his suspicious mind that -there was some reason for this defiant behavior, and he determined to -watch her. For this purpose he joined the party. - -"It is the first time I have been to a music-hall for years," he -explained to Dorothy; "but Walter has been talking so much about this -new dancer that I felt I must see her." - -"Why did you not dine with us at the Cecil?" asked Dorothy. - -"I always prefer to dine at home, my dear young lady. Besides, it does -not do for an old man to wag his gray beard uninvited among the -young." - -Meantime Mrs. Ward was chatting amicably to Vane and to a vapid -War-Office clerk, who had formed a fourth at the Cecil dinner-party. -He was a titled clerk, and heir to great estates, so Mrs. Ward made -much of him. She was very diplomatic, and never neglected younger -sons. "One never knows but what they may be rich some day," said Mrs. -Ward in explanation of her wisdom. - -The box was large and easily held the party. Mrs. Ward had a position -directly in front, where she could see and be seen; but Dorothy kept -herself behind the curtains. She could see the stage excellently, but -did not wish to be recognized by any chance acquaintance. In an -opposite box sat a red-haired man in immaculate evening-dress. -Derrington recognized him as Bawdsey, but did not think it necessary -to show his recognition. He sat at the back of the box between Vane -and the War-Office clerk, and kept a watchful eye on Mrs. Ward. - -That little woman sparkled like a diamond. She criticised the house, -admired the decorations, and applauded the comic songs. It might have -been that this indifferent attitude was one of defiance, as she must -have known that Derrington was watching her. But she acted her part -consummately, and he could not help admiring her coolness. "What an -admirable actress," thought the old lord, "and what a dangerous -woman!" - -The ballet of "The Bacchanals" came at the end of the first part of -the programme. When the curtain rose Dorothy was so anxious to behold -Lola that she leaned forward so as to show her face to the whole -house. Bawdsey saw her and put his glass to his eyes. He smiled -slightly, and Derrington wondered why he did so. But at that moment, -and while the stage was filling with dancers, he arose to receive some -newcomers. These were none other than Miss Bull and Margery, for whom -Bawdsey had procured the box. The little old maid was whiter than ever -and wore her usual gray dress. Margery was smartly gowned in green, -and with her light hair and stupid red face looked anything but -beautiful. She placed herself in the best position, being evidently -directed to do so by Miss Bull, for that lady preferred the shade. At -all events, she secluded herself behind a curtain and kept her beady -black eyes persistently on the stage. On seeing that the two were -comfortable, Bawdsey disappeared, and did not return till the end of -the ballet. Derrington saw all this, but no one else in Mrs. Ward's -box took any notice. And why should they? Bawdsey and his party were -quite unknown to them. - -The ballet was modeled closely on the lines laid down by Euripides in -his tragedy. The opening scene was the market-place of Thebes, and the -stage was filled mostly with men. Pentheus, the King, is informed that -the whole female population of the city, together with his mother, -Agave, have gone to the mountains to worship a stranger. The seer, -Tiresias, knows by his psychic powers that the stranger is none other -than Bacchus, the god of wine, and implores Pentheus not to provoke -his enmity. The King spurns this advice and gives orders that the -so-called god shall be arrested. It was at this moment that Agavé -appears. Dorothy looked at her eagerly. - -Agavé has not yet assumed her Bacchanalian garb. She is still in the -quiet dress of a Grecian matron, but her gestures are wild, and she is -rapid in her movements. In the dance which followed she is interrupted -by Pentheus, who strives to calm her frenzy. But Agavé, knowing the -god of wine is at hand, becomes as one possessed. Bacchus appears and -is arrested by Pentheus. He is chained and hurried into the palace. -Agavé warns the King against the impiety he is committing. Pentheus -defies the gods. There is a peal of thunder, and the palace of -Pentheus sinks into ruins. At the back appears the ruins of the city -walls, which have also fallen, and on the summit of the heaped stones -stands Bacchus, the god confest. At a wave of his wand vines begin to -clamber over the ruins, and the cries of the Bacchanalians are heard. -Pentheus tries to seize the god again, and darkness covers the stage. -The last thing seen was Lola dancing in a wild red light, with -extravagant gestures. - -Dorothy could not say that Lola was handsome, but she had about her a -wild grace which was very fascinating. When dancing she seemed to -think of nothing but the revels in which she was engaged. She never -cast a look at the house, and Dorothy noticed this. She was therefore -somewhat surprised when, during the second scene, she saw Lola -deliberately look in the direction of the box and stare at her -piercingly for quite a moment or two. Rather confused by this sudden -regard, the girl drew back. Lola noticed her no more, but continued to -dance. - -The second scene was the camp of the Bacchanals, where Pentheus, as a -follower of the god, comes to see the orgies. It was a mountainous -scene with a lurid red sky broken by masses of black clouds. There is -no need to describe the ballet in detail. The frenzied dancers of the -Bacchanals seemed to send the audience wild. There was something -fierce and murderous about these orgiastic movements. And through the -wild throng darted Lola, in leopard-skin and garlands, bearing a cup -of wine, and flinging herself about in wild madness. She appeared to -be a devil, and Dorothy shrank back at the sight of her wild face. The -music also was terrible, and excited the dancers to further efforts of -madness. It was a feast of witches, a Walpurgis night, a revel of the -earth-powers. There was nothing spiritual about this riot of the -flesh; the audience shuddered at the fierce rapture of the dancers, at -the alluring pain of the music, at the reckless abandon of Lola Velez. - -"It's too awful!" murmured Dorothy, moving to the back of the box, -beside Derrington; "that woman is a demon." - -"Yet your friend Mr. Brendon helped her to this, position," said the -old man, grimly. - -"I am sure he cannot approve of this dancing," shuddered the girl, who -was very pale. - -"There is nothing improper about it," said Derrington. - -"No. Everything is right in that way; but it is maddening, and unholy, -and altogether terrible. The music is something like that in -Tannhäuser--cruel, evil, voluptuous." - -"Ah, your poor spiritual nature shrinks from that sort of thing! But -Mrs. Ward seems to enjoy it." - -She certainly did. Craning forward so as to get a full view of the -stage, Mrs. Ward's eyes were alight. She would have enjoyed being in -the throng herself, and would have danced as madly as the worst of -them. And queerly enough Miss Bull appeared also spellbound. Her face -was flushed, her eyes glittered, and her breath came and went in quick -pants. "It's wonderful, Margery," she said, leaning out of the box and -fixing her eyes intently on the whirling mass. - -"It's very pretty," said Margery, stupidly. Her dull brain could not -understand the wild madness of the scene, and she was as unmoved as -though she had been listening to a sermon. - -"Dorothy! Dorothy!" whispered Mrs. Ward, "come back to your seat. Lola -juggles the head of Pentheus. It is the great dance." - -"No," answered Dorothy, and clung to Derrington's arm. "I will stop -here. It is too terrible." - -The old man understood, and in the darkness of the box he slipped his -arm round her. In that kind embrace Dorothy felt safe. If she looked -upon that madness again she felt that she must cry out. Derrington -quite appreciated her feelings. It was the repulsion experienced by -the spiritual against the material. - -The action of the ballet proceeded rapidly. Pentheus climbed a tree, -the Bacchanalians surrounded it and dragged him down. Lola emerged -from a frantic crowd bearing his head. Then began the dance, slowly at -first with solemn pacings and stately gestures. The limelights, red -and blue and green and yellow, were flashed on the swaying form of -Lola as she eyed the head with terrible glances. Then the music -flashed out into a wild galop. The scene became pandemonium. Lightning -flashed, thunder rolled, the violins shrieked in the orchestra, the -dancers spun, whirled, plunged, and sprang and bounded, and -frantically rushed about the stage. Everywhere at unexpected moments -Lola appeared, tossing, smiting, and caressing the head of Pentheus, -whirling out and in as the rainbow lights played upon her restless -figure. Finally, when the orgy was at its height, came a flash of -lightning, a crash of thunder, the riot died away, the Bacchanalians -sprang from the stage. Darkness descended, the music sank to lulling -tones, and quiet, silvery moonlight flooded the stage. There alone, in -the center, sat Agavé, restored to her right mind, weeping over the -head of her son. And on this scene of sorrow the curtain fell slowly -to the strains of sweet music. The audience drew long breaths and felt -as though a nightmare were at an end. - -"Let us go now," said Dorothy, standing up and still clinging to -Derrington's arm. "I wish I had not come." - -She was interrupted by an ejaculation from her mother. Mrs. Ward also -was standing up, but her eyes were fixed on Miss Bull. The little old -maid, as though feeling the influence of that glance, slowly looked in -Mrs. Ward's direction. The eyes of the two women met. From those of -Miss Bull flashed a look of hate, and she withdrew behind the curtain -of the box. Mrs. Ward was white and shaking. Clutching Vane's arm she -requested to be taken to her carriage. "It is too much for me," she -said, alluding to the ballet. - -Derrington stood on the pavement when the brougham rolled away bearing -the mother and daughter, both silent, both pale. He was alone, as Vane -and the War-Office clerk were back again in the hall. "Humph!" said -Derrington, his eyes fixed on the retreating carriage. "So you know -that little woman who called to see me about the lease. I wonder how -that comes about. Miss Bull knew Mrs. Jersey, and you, Mrs. Ward, sent -that yellow holly. I wonder----" The old man stopped; he could not -quite understand what Mrs. Ward was doing, but he repeated his former -observation. "A dangerous woman," said he. "I shall speak to Bawdsey -about her;" and making up his mind to this he went in search of the -detective. - -All that night Dorothy was haunted by strange dreams, in which -the figure of Lola played a prominent part. Usually calm and -self-possessed, Dorothy slept like a child, but the fierce music, the -mad dancing, the knowledge that George knew this terrible woman--for -so she appeared to the girl--caused her to sleep brokenly. She was up -early, and after a breakfast that was a mere farce she took her way to -the Park. It was her usual custom to walk in a lonely part about eight -o'clock in the morning but on this occasion she was at her usual spot -by half-past seven. This was a seat under a spreading tree in the -center of a wide lawn. Few people came there at so early an hour, and -Dorothy often read for an hour before returning home. In a mechanical -manner she took a book out of her pocket--it was the "Meditations" of -Marcus Aurelius--and tried to fasten her attention on the soothing -words of the stoic Emperor. But it was impossible. Before her inner -vision passed the wild, flushed face of Lola Velez, and Dorothy could -not drive it away. While endeavoring to do so some one came to sit on -the seat. Dorothy, rather surprised, looked up. She saw Lola staring -at her intently. - -The dancer looked pale and worn. About her there was none of the -unholy influence of the previous night. As the morning was cold she -wore a sealskin coat and toque with a scarf of red silk twisted round -her throat. This touch of color was all that was about her likely to -suggest her foreign origin. With her pale face and piteous mouth and -appealing eyes she looked like a broken-hearted woman. Dorothy's first -movement was to go away; but when she saw the sorrow on that wild face -she remained where she was. The two gazed at one another for a time, -and the thought in the mind of each was the same. Both thought of -George Brendon. - -Lola began to speak without any preamble. "Mr. Bawdsey pointed you to -me at the last night," she said in her imperfect English. "He declared -you did walk early, and I have been with my eye on your mansion since -six hours--what you call o'clock. I see you come, I follow you, I am -here, Mees Vard, I am here." - -"What do you want?" asked Dorothy, calmly, her nerves much more under -control than Lola's were. Yet both were agitated. - -"Ah," cried the foreign woman, throwing back her head, "give him to -me! I love him--I worship him. Give him to me." - -"Of whom do you speak, mademoiselle?" - -"Ah, mademoiselle, so he speaks when angry. But I am no French. I am -Señora--I am Spanish. I have warm blood here in my heart." She struck -her breast fiercely. "And if you take him from me I will kill you. -Yes, I will give you the death--quick, sure, sudden." - -Her face drew near to Dorothy's as she spoke, and the girl could feel -her hot breath on her cheek. But Dorothy had a brave heart of her own -and did not flinch. For all she knew, Lola might intend to stab her at -the very minute. The Park keeper was some distance away, and it was -useless to create a scandal by calling him to her assistance. Lola was -just the kind of mad creature to make a scene. Retaining control of -herself, though her heart was beating rapidly, Dorothy fixed her eyes -firmly on those of Lola. "Sit a little further away," she said, "and -we will talk calmly." - -"Are you not afraid?" asked Lola, surprised. She had always found the -savage attitude so effective. - -Dorothy laughed. "I was never afraid of anything or of any one in my -life," she said coolly. "And I am not going to begin now. What do you -want, mademoiselle? Why do you threaten me?" - -"Bah!" cried the other, but moving back a little as requested, "you -know, you blond white cat, you. It is George." - -"What about George?" - -"He is mine. He loves me. You would take him from me." - -"If you are speaking of George Brendon----" - -"Of who else should I speak? You know--ah, you know!" - -"Yes. I know. I heard some rumors as to how he helped you. But I do -not believe for one moment that he loves you." - -"He does. You dare ask that he loves." - -"I shall do nothing of the sort. We may as well understand one -another, as you have no right to thrust yourself upon me." - -"I do do what I do please," said Lola, sullenly. - -"These sorts of things are not allowed in England, I am sorry for you, -and so I speak. Otherwise, I should call the Park keeper." - -"I want not any sorrow. I do want my own George." - -"Mr. Brendon is engaged to marry me," said Dorothy, deliberately. - -Lola sprang to her feet with flashing eyes. "It will not be," she -almost shouted. "I love him." - -"Sit down," said Dorothy, much in the same tone as she would have used -to a fractious child, and Lola resumed her seat immediately. The woman -was a creature of impulse. Had Dorothy raged also, she would have -gained the ascendancy. But this calmness, to use a nautical simile, -"took the wind out of her sails." She could only do as she was told. - -"But I will have my George," she muttered. - -"Listen to me," said Dorothy, quietly. "I have no right to answer your -questions. But I am sorry for you. I will speak to Mr. Brendon." - -"No--" Lola looked up in terror--"you must not do that. He will be -very angry--oh, much--much enraged." - -"Then that shows me you have been speaking untruths. Mr. Brendon does -not love you----" - -"But I say yes--yes--yes!" Lola sprang to her feet again and poured -forth her wrath. "Ah, you think he will be milord and that you will -marry him, but----" - -"What do you know about that?" asked Dorothy, rising indignantly. - -"Oh, I do know much--much," Lola snapped her fingers. "Yes, I know -that which I do know. I can stop him from being milord, and that I -will--I will. If he is milord he will marry--you--you. But as my own -George he will make me--me--" she struck her breast again--"me, Lola -Velez, madame his wife." - -"You are talking nonsense," said Dorothy, coolly, though she felt -annoyed and puzzled. "What can you know?" - -"That which I do know. Wait--oh, wait a day--one day, two day, three -day, and then--" She snapped her fingers. "You see--yes--you see how -clever I am. I go, I go, you white cat. I go to get my George." - -Lola darted away at a run, which slackened to a rapid walk as she -neared the Park gates. Dorothy sat down again, too amazed to follow. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -MRS. WARD'S TRUMP CARD - - -Kowlaski was a large, fat, good-natured blackguard of a man, quite -without principle. He came from some remote village in the Balkans and -was of Jewish birth. In his early days he arrived in London penniless -and strove to make a living by selling toys in the street. Then he -turned scene-shifter at a music-hall, and while thus engaged educated -himself to write and read and to speak English with wonderful fluency. -Also he saved money and speculated in a small way, having the -marvelous Hebrew instinct of picking out lucrative ventures. Shortly -he became stage manager. Then he found a clever woman who sang badly -and acted wonderfully. Kowlaski advertised her into a success and she -proved grateful. There is no need to trace his steady rise; but one -thing led to another until he became proprietor of the very music-hall -which had witnessed his humble beginning. - -When he first set eyes on Lola he had guessed that it would pay to -invest money in her. The success of the ballet proved that Kowlaski -was right as usual, and he smiled his oily smile when he saw the -crowded houses and looked over the receipts. The ballet would run for -more than a year. He was sure of that, and set about some other -business now that the music-hall was flourishing. It was at this point -that Lola demanded a week's holiday. Kowlaski whimpered. He usually -did so to make people think he was weak. But under his apparent -weakness he was possessed of an iron strength. - -Having great experience of women he thought to control Lola, but she, -being gifted with a superlative temper, laughed in his face. All his -cleverness could not make her swerve from the point. "I want a week to -myself," she said doggedly. They were talking in French, as Kowlaski -could swear more easily in that tongue and wanted freedom of speech. - -"But, my dear child--" Kowlaski was always paternal--"it will not do. -You are the draw, and if you go out of the bill the people will not -come to my house." - -"I don't care. I want a week, and a week I will have." - -"Why do you wish for this week?" - -"That's my business." - -Kowlaski tried temper. "If you go, you leave my theater once and for -all the time." - -"Pschutt!" said Lola, snapping her fingers in his dismayed face. "I -draw, and you are in no hurry to get rid of me." - -Kowlaski tried reproaches. "If you were a grateful woman----" - -"Ah, bah! What of gratitude? You wanted me or would you have seen me -die in the gutter." - -Kowlaski began to whimper. "You will ruin me, my dear!" - -"It would serve you right if I did. You have ruined others in your -time. Don't you think I know you? Come--" she rapped on the table--"I -want the week. To-morrow and till next Wednesday I'm out of the bill." - -"But it cannot be done." - -"It must be. I want it to be done." - -Kowlaski tried bribing. "I will raise your salary if you stay!" - -"Oh, la, la, la, la! I am quite pleased with what I get. If I wished -my salary raised I should have it raised. I go for a week." - -In the face of this obstinacy Kowlaski gave in. But first of all he -tried threats, and Lola threatened to throw a chair at him. He finally -agreed that she should have her week, and Lola walked out of the -office without thanking him. That was the last he saw of her for seven -days. - -He made the most of her absence, declaring that she had been called -away to nurse a dying mother and would reappear with a broken heart to -keep her engagements with the public. Bawdsey saw this notice. - -It was the first he had heard of Lola's escapade, and he went at once -to her rooms in Bloomsbury to ask where she was going. Lola had -already gone, and, according to the landlady, had left no information -as to her whereabouts. - -"Did she take a box?" asked Bawdsey. - -"A small box. She went away in a cab." - -"Where did she tell the cabman to drive to?" - -"To Oxford Street." - -Bawdsey was disappointed. He saw that Lola had taken every precaution -to hide her trail, and that there was not much chance of finding her. -However, he went to see Kowlaski. The manager began to talk of the -dying mother, and Bawdsey shut him up. - -"Rubbish! That's for the public. I want to know where she is. - -"My dear, I do not know," said Kowlaski, and for the first time in his -wicked old life he told the truth. - -Not to be beaten, Bawdsey sought out George Brendon. But George was as -ignorant as the manager and the landlady. "I haven't the slightest -idea," he said, when Bawdsey asked; "and, to tell you the truth, I -don't see why you should try to find out." - -"I want to know." - -"That is apparent on the face of it. But you are not engaged to marry -her, are you, Mr. Bawdsey?" - -"No such luck," replied the detective, with a dismal face. - -"Then I don't see what right you have to control her movements." - -"Did she write and tell you where she was going?" - -"No, and if she had done so I should not tell you," replied George, -annoyed by the man's persistence. - -"You may as well be civil to me, Mr. Brendon; you know that I am your -friend." - -"Oh, I've heard all that before! But people who talk much of -friendship and gratitude are generally humbugs." - -"I am not," said Bawdsey, quietly. "See here, Mr. Brendon, Lola is in -love with you----" - -"That's my business. Leave it alone." - -Bawdsey took up his hat. "Oh, very well! If you will not be civil I -cannot help you to learn who killed your father." - -"What!" George sprang from the table at which he was writing and -seized the man's arm. "Do you know that?" - -"Gently, Mr. Brendon. No, I do not know, but----" - -"Then what do you mean by saying----" - -"We had better have a chat," said Bawdsey, and sat down. "But I wish -to know where I stand. Lola loves you. Do you love her?" - -"No," said Brendon, seeing that he would have to humor the man. "I am -engaged to marry Miss Ward." - -"Will you help me to marry Lola?" - -"Willingly--though, to tell you the truth, I know very little about -you, and to make that girl marry you----" - -"Oh, Lola can look after herself, Mr. Brendon. If she becomes my wife -she will have the upper hand. But I am so deeply in love with her that -I am willing to play second fiddle. Can't you dispossess her of this -infatuation for you?" - -George shook his head and groaned. "No. She won't listen to reason." - -"Well," drawled Bawdsey, recurring to his American accent, "I don't -blame her for that. She is in love, and love listens to no one and -nothing. I wouldn't listen to reason, either, if it entailed giving up -Lola." - -"See here, Bawdsey, if you can persuade this woman to get over her -liking for me, and to marry you, I shall be delighted. I do not know -where she is just now, but it is my impression that she has gone away -because she is afraid of me." - -"Afraid of you? Oh, that's absurd!" - -"No, it isn't. The other morning she saw Miss Ward, and there was a -scene in the Park." - -Bawdsey hung his red head. "I fear that is my fault," he confessed. "I -pointed out Miss Ward to Lola, and----" - -"And it was I who foolishly mentioned that Miss Ward sometimes took a -walk in the morning--in the Park." - -"Oh," said Bawdsey, "I mentioned that also." - -"Did you wish Lola to see Miss Ward?" asked George, angrily. - -"No. Nor did I intend to say anything about the walking in the early -morning. I simply pointed her out in the box to Lola, so that Lola -might see there was no chance of your marrying her." - -"As if any woman would accept such an excuse," said Brendon, -contemptuously. "Then she questioned you about the walk?" - -"Yes. She mentioned something about what you had told her, and I was -rather free with my tongue. I am not usually," said Bawdsey, -penitently, "but there's something about Lola that makes me behave -like a child. I'm wax in her hands. So she saw Miss Ward?" - -"Yes. And she knows that I am angry. Of course Miss Ward sent to tell -me at once, and I called on Lola to give her a talking to, but she was -gone when I arrived." - -"Would you have spoken harshly to her?" - -"Certainly. She had no right to trouble Miss Ward. But now you know -why I think she has left town. In a week she will come back thinking -my anger is at an end." - -"And will it be?" asked Bawdsey, doubtfully. - -"It is at an end now. I am quite content not to see Lola again so long -as she leaves Miss Ward alone." - -"I will try and keep her away," said the detective, "but I have very -little influence with her." - -"Tell her I am angry and will be still more angry if she does not keep -away from Curzon Street. Well, we have discussed this matter. I now -want to hear what you meant by your reference to my father. Do you -know who killed him?" - -Bawdsey shook his head. "I can't say for certain, but I can tell you -who might know." - -"Who is that?" - -"Mr. Roger Ireland." - -George looked astonished. "But that is ridiculous," he said. "Mr. -Ireland told me that he did not know." - -"Oh, I don't say that he knows for certain. But he is better -acquainted with the matter than you think." - -"How did you come to know Mr. Ireland?" - -"He called to see Miss Bull, and I dropped across him." - -"How did you get talking of the case?" - -"Well, you see," said Bawdsey, easily, "we naturally talked of Mrs. -Jersey, and one thing led to another until I discovered that Ireland -had been in San Remo when your father was murdered. I wished to find -out who killed him, so I questioned Mr. Ireland." - -"Why do you wish to know who killed my father?" asked George. - -"Because I think that the murder of Mrs. Jersey is connected with that -crime. See here--" Bawdsey cleared his throat--"Mrs. Jersey was in San -Remo at the time of the death----" - -"How do you know that?" - -"Don't I tell you I questioned Mr. Ireland?" - -George looked sharply at the detective. "What magic did you use to -make him talk? Mr. Ireland knows how to hold his tongue." - -"Well, when he found that I was looking after the case of Mrs. Jersey -(and I made no secret of that) he was good enough to tell me all he -knew. He thought, as I did, that the murder in San Remo was connected -with the crime of Amelia Square." - -"Oh!" George wasn't at all satisfied, as he could not conceive how -Bawdsey had induced Ireland to talk. However, he thought it wise to -say no more, as he did not wish to make Bawdsey angry and thus run a -chance of losing his explanation. "Go on." - -"There is nothing more to say," said Bawdsey, rising. "Mr. Ireland -declined to tell me who he thought was guilty, but he hinted that he -had seen the lady in the blue domino unmasked." - -"Did he recognize her?" - -"I think he did, but he assured me that he could not be sure, and that -he had not seen the lady again." - -"Then he did know the face?" - -Bawdsey's face assumed an impenetrable expression. "I can only refer -you to Mr. Ireland," he said; "and as to Lola----" - -"Oh, she'll turn up again," said Brendon, irritably. "Don't worry me -about Lola. I wish you would marry her and take her back to your -native land." - -"What land am I native of, Mr. Brendon?" asked Bawdsey, calmly. - -"America, I understand. You hinted as much when we met." - -Bawdsey shook his head. "I am as English as you are," he declared. - -"Well," said Brendon, with a shrug, "I thought as much. Your accent -fails at times. You are not a good actor, Bawdsey." - -"I may be a better actor than you think, Mr. Brendon." - -"What do you mean by that?" - -"Never you mind, sir. I can hold my tongue when it suits me, and on -this occasion it does suit me. But remember, Mr. Brendon, that -whatever happens you have a friend in me." - -"What is going to happen?" - -Bawdsey shook his head solemnly. "One never knows. We are not out of -the wood yet, Mr. Brendon." - -"Are you referring to my father's murder?" - -"And to Mrs. Jersey's. I have my suspicions, and--well, there's -nothing more to be said. When I am certain I shall let you know." - -"You have your suspicions, then?" - -"Yes. But I shall not impart them to any one--not even to you." - -"One moment, Bawdsey," said Brendon, as the man had his hand on the -door. "Do you suspect Miss Bull?" - -"Why should I suspect her?" asked the detective, in surprise. - -"Because she was not on good terms with Mrs. Jersey, and you have -taken up your abode in the house----" - -"To watch her, you would say. Well, maybe," rejoined the man, -composedly. "I know what I know, and when I am more certain of what I -know, sir----" He nodded. "Good-day," he said, and went abruptly. - -It struck George that Bawdsey was a most mysterious person and knew -far more about the San Remo murder than Derrington could have told -him. Still, it was possible that Derrington had unbosomed himself to -Bawdsey, and it was necessary to do so if he wanted the murder of Mrs. -Jersey cleared up. And Derrington, from his refusal to admit that he -was at the house on the night and about the time the crime was -committed, seemed to knew something that might lead to the detection -of the assassin. - -"Humph," said George to himself when alone, "I have a great mind to go -round and see that old man. It seems to me that Bawdsey is trying to -serve two masters. It is impossible that my grandfather can know -the truth. Yet, going by his height and figure, and that sable -claret-colored coat, he was certainly in the house on the night in -question. But it's none of my business." - -He sat down again to his work and tried to interest himself in the -chapter he was writing. But it was all in vain. Bawdsey's speech and -Bawdsey's manner, and a conviction that the man was playing his -grandfather false, kept recurring to his mind. After an hour's futile -work he threw down the pen in despair and went out to call on -Derrington. - -On arriving at St. Giles Square he saw a carriage at the door of the -mansion. On asking for Lord Derrington, George was informed that his -lordship was engaged with Mrs. Ward and could see no one. Brendon -turned away, wondering that he had not recognized the carriage, and he -was still more vexed with himself when Dorothy put her head out of the -brougham and called to him. - -"My dearest," he said softly, so that the coachman and footman might -not hear, "this is an unexpected pleasure. Why are you not inside?" - -"My mother wished to see Lord Derrington alone," replied Dorothy. "I -am waiting till she comes out. She has been with him for half an hour. -I don't know what they are talking about." - -It was at this moment that a message was brought out of the house from -Mrs. Ward saying that her daughter could drive home as she would not -be disengaged for another hour. Dorothy looked puzzled. "I can't -understand," she said; "there is something wrong with my mother. Lord -Derrington came to see her one day and she has been upset ever since." - -George shook his head. He suspected Mrs. Ward of knowing more than she -chose to confess, and based his suspicions on the fact of the yellow -holly which she had given to Dorothy to present to him. She had made -her daughter a cat's-paw, but why she should wish to startle Mrs. -Jersey with a reminder of the San Remo murder was a thing George could -not understand. Meanwhile, he kept these suspicions to himself and -made some excuse. "Oh, Mrs. Ward and my grandfather are probably -talking over my iniquities," he said easily. "But I don't see why I -should not take advantage of this chance." - -"What do you mean, George?" asked Dorothy with a becoming blush. - -"Well, here is the brougham, and here you are. Why shouldn't we drive -around the Park before you go home?" - -"My mother will be angry," said Dorothy, hesitating. Then she blushed -again. "But I shall brave her anger. We have much to talk about, as I -wish to speak of Lola Velez." - -"Dorothy, you surely do not think----" - -"No, no! But I want to ask you a few questions. I believe she is mad, -George. Get in and we will drive round the Park." - -The order was given, George seated himself beside his divinity, and -they drove away for a pleasant hour. "You see Fate plays into our -hands," said George, taking those of Dorothy in his own. And then the -conversation became quite private and very, very confidential. - -Meantime, Mrs. Ward was seated in a chair facing Lord Derrington. The -old gentleman looked savage, but Mrs. Ward was quite at her ease. They -had been having a war of words, and Mrs. Ward so far had come off -best. The conversation had been in reference to the sentence whispered -in the little woman's ear when he had made her promise to hold her -tongue about George. - -"Of course I do think it is the meanest thing a man can do," said Mrs. -Ward, bitterly. "What if I did cheat at cards? Every woman does that, -and I was losing no end of money." - -"I don't think your friends would take that view," said Derrington, -grimly. "I came to hear of the matter quite by chance, and it is plain -that you won over a hundred pounds by cheating." - -"It's that horrid Mrs. Wayflete who told you----" - -"No. If Mrs. Wayflete knows, she has held her tongue. I learned it -from a source of which you are ignorant. But the fact remains, you -cheated, and if your friends knew it you would be ostracized by all of -them." - -"As if they did not do these things themselves," retorted Mrs. Ward; -"but since you have been so nasty, I intend to be nasty, too." - -"I shouldn't advise you to be nasty to me, Mrs. Ward. I have a large -reserve fund of strength." - -"You'll need it all to hold your own against me." Lord Derrington -nodded. "I quite admit that you are a dangerous woman," he said -quietly. - -"Well, and in what way have you made up your mind to be nasty?" - -Mrs. Ward laughed. "You needn't repeat my adjectives," she said in her -most frivolous manner. "If you want to know the way in which I intend -to protect myself----" - -"What do you mean by that?" - -"I mean this," cried the little woman, growing angry all at once. "I -am not going to be threatened about that unfortunate episode connected -with the cards--it was that horrid Mrs. Wayflete who told you, so -don't deny it--I am not going to be threatened without holding my own. -Besides, I want Dorothy to marry your grandson." - -"Which one?" asked Derrington, coolly. - -"You have only Walter Vane." - -"Excuse me, George Brendon, whether there is a marriage or not, is -equally my grandson." - -"I believe you admire him." - -"Very much, and it is in my mind to acknowledge him as my heir." - -"I thought as much after your sticking up for him the other day," said -Mrs. Ward, furiously. "Now, look here, Lord Derrington. If Dorothy -marries that Brendon creature I won't be able to do a thing with -her--you know quite well I won't." - -"That means you won't be able to handle my money through George after -I am dead," said Derrington, grimly. - -"You can put it that way if you like. But Walter shall be Dorothy's -husband, I have made up my mind." - -"Because he's a fool and putty in your hands." - -"I shouldn't be vulgar if I were you," said Mrs. Ward, in a dignified -manner, and quite forgetting that she had once used the same -illustration herself in connection with Brendon. "But so long as -George leaves Dorothy alone I shall say nothing." - -"That's really very good of you, Mrs. Ward." - -"Your being nasty won't make me change my mind. But you quite -understand the situation, Lord Derrington. Walter is to marry my -daughter, and George is to be kept away." - -"I don't see how he is to be kept away. I assure you Brendon is a -strong man, and his will is quite equal to mine." - -"Nonsense, you have the strongest will in London." - -"And you come here to try and break it." - -"Life is a game," said Mrs. Ward, leaning back, with a pretty air of -philosophy. "And at present I hold the trump card." - -"What is it?" asked Derrington, wondering by what means she hoped to -make him consent to her demands. - -"I'll tell you presently," said Mrs. Ward, in a most masterful tone, -which amused Derrington. "But you understand that if George Brendon -doesn't keep away I shall give information to the police and have him -arrested in connection with that murder." - -"Oh, no, you won't," said Derrington, good-humoredly. - -"Oh, yes, I shall. As to your accusation about my having cheated, you -shall say nothing about that." - -"Indeed, I shall do so if you trouble Brendon." - -"Think of Dorothy." - -"I do think of Dorothy, and I'm very sorry she has such a mother." - -"You dare to insult me," began Mrs. Ward, when Derrington, who was -losing patience, cut her short. - -"I've had enough of this," he said sharply. "You shall hold your -tongue about Brendon or I'll tell what I know." - -"Then I'll do the same." - -Derrington bowed politely. "By all means," he said. "My reputation is -already so bad that a word or two from you can scarcely make it -worse." - -"Oh, it's more than that," said Mrs. Ward, quietly, and she spoke in -so positive a manner that Derrington began to recollect his worst -sins. "Do you remember the night you came home here at one o'clock and -found me in this very room?" - -"Yes. You came with the amiable intention of telling me that George -Brendon was going to pass the night at Mrs. Jersey's, and that you -suspected that he was up to mischief." - -"I took the trouble to come from a party for that very purpose," was -Mrs. Ward's plaintive reply, "and how was I received?" - -"I told you to mind your own business, if I remember." - -"And you swore at me," said the little woman; "as if a man who calls -himself a gentleman----" - -"Mrs. Ward, I am getting tired of this circumlocution. What is it you -have to say?" - -"Well, on that night you were in a fir coat." - -"My usual coat in winter." - -"It was the night when Mrs. Jersey was killed." - -"Was it, indeed? I never noticed the coincidence." - -"No. But you knew about it," said Mrs. Ward; "you threw your coat on -yonder sofa. I seated myself near it by chance. There was something -hard in the pocket of the coat. When you were out of the room I took -the something out. There it is," and she laid an Italian stiletto on -the table. - -"What is that?" asked Derrington, calmly, but with an anxious face. - -"That," said Mrs. Ward, touching it daintily with her finger, "is the -weapon with which Mrs. Jersey was stabbed." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -A RECOGNITION - - -If Mrs. Ward expected to startle Derrington into a confession she was -never more mistaken in her calculations. Lord Derrington had not moved -in diplomatic circles all his life without knowing how to guard -against the display of emotion. With an utterly expressionless face he -looked at the stiletto. It was a slender steel blade with a silver -handle of Renaissance workmanship, evidently a valuable and curious -relic of the Middle Ages. It might have been made by Cellini himself -and have been worn by Cesare Borgia. But Derrington stared at it as -though he knew nothing about it. - -"Well," said Mrs. Ward, sharply, and rather disappointed he did not -grovel on the instant, "what do you say?" - -Derrington looked at her in rather a humorous manner. "What do you -want me to say?" he asked. "Confess that I killed Mrs. Jersey and then -brought this weapon carefully home in my pocket for you to discover -and use against me?" - -"That is a subterfuge," said Mrs. Ward. "You did not expect to find me -waiting for you, and you never meant that dagger to be discovered, -Lord Derrington." - -"I certainly never did," he assented heartily. "I cannot imagine how -you came to know more than I did." - -"What do you mean?" asked the little woman, sharply. - -"Well, you see," said Lord Derrington, quietly, "this is a very clever -bit of business on your part, but so far as I am concerned it has -nothing to do with me. I never saw that weapon before." - -"Oh, that's rubbish!" said Mrs. Ward with a mirthless laugh. "I found -it in the pocket of your fur coat on the very----" - -"You say you found it there," said Derrington, meaningly. - -"Do you deny that it was in the pocket?" - -"Certainly. Had it been in the pocket I should have known it was -there. But it was not in the pocket." - -Mrs. Ward stared. "You are very brazen," she said; "you knew it was -there all the time." - -"In the pocket?" asked Derrington, politely and perfectly calm. - -Mrs. Ward hesitated. Then she faced him defiantly. "I am so sure of my -ground," she declared, "that I don't mind saying it wasn't exactly in -the pocket. There was a hole in the pocket and the dagger had slipped -down into the lining between the inside fur and the outer cloth. It -lay sideways, and what with its position and the heavy fur----" - -"I could not have known it was there," finished Derrington, balancing -a paper-cutter on his forefinger. "You have found a mare's nest, my -dear Mrs. Ward, and if this is your trump card I am sorry to say it -won't take the trick you wish to secure. I did not know that this--" -he touched the stiletto--"was in the lining of my fur coat." - -"Then it was, and Mrs. Jersey was stabbed with it." - -"Isn't that taking a great deal for granted?" said Derrington, with -raised brows. "Mrs. Jersey, according to the doctor, if I recall the -report of the inquest rightly, was certainly stabbed with a weapon -similar to this. But why do you say this is the one?" - -"Because I believe you were in the house on that night." - -"Which house? Be explicit, please." - -Mrs. Ward was growing angry at this calm defiance. "In the house in -Amelia Square. You went there to prevent that Brendon creature from -making Mrs. Jersey confess." - -Lord Derrington laughed. "You would not make a good lawyer," said he. -"By your own showing I did not know that Brendon was to be at Mrs. -Jersey's on that night." - -"I certainly came to tell you," said Mrs. Ward, feeling that she had -missed a point, "but you could easily have heard it elsewhere." - -"Who from? Brendon did not advertise in the papers that he was -stopping with Mrs. Jersey on the night in question." - -"Then Mr. Train----" - -"I met Mr. Train for the first time at your house the other night." - -"Dorothy told you," said Mrs. Ward, determined not to surrender any -advantage she might have gained. - -"You can ask your daughter and she will tell you that I had not seen -her all that week. Is there any one else, Mrs. Ward?" - -The little woman rose to her feet with an artificial laugh and shook -out perfume from her silken skirts. "You are very clever and -obstinate, Lord Derrington, but how will you explain this--" she -pointed to the stiletto--"to the authorities?" - -"There will be no need for me to do that," said Derrington, and took -up the weapon. Mrs. Ward stretched out her hand. - -"My property, if you please, Lord Derrington." - -The old gentleman opened a drawer, dropped the weapon into it, and -closed the drawer with a snap. "It's locked now," he said coolly. "I -shall take charge of this." - -"How dare you? I insist----" - -"Oh, dear, no! You insist on nothing." Lord Derrington rose, looking -like a giant as he towered over the little woman. "My dear Mrs. Ward," -said he, quietly, but in his deepest tones, "I have been very patient -with you, but this thing must end. You must promise to hold your -tongue about Brendon and----" - -"And about you, I suppose," she sneered. - -"About me?" Derrington's tone expressed surprise. "What have you to -hold your tongue about as regards me?" - -Mrs. Ward stamped, though as a rule she was not given to betraying -violent emotion. "Oh, it's too ridiculous!" she said furiously. "I can -say to the police how I found the stiletto in your coat, I suppose." - -"I should advise you not to talk to any one about a thing which exists -only in your imagination." - -"The stiletto----" - -"What are you talking of, Mrs. Ward?" - -"It's in that drawer." She pointed to the table. - -"Oh, dear, no, it isn't," said Derrington, blandly; "there is no -stiletto, there never was one. We have had a nice talk--shall we say -about chiffons?" In spite of her rage at being outwitted Mrs. Ward -gave a hollow laugh at the thought of Lord Derrington discussing -chiffons. "A nice talk, I say, and now we must part." - -"Not before I have had my say," said Mrs. Ward, savagely. "I see -perfectly well that I have been foolish to let that stiletto get into -your hands. But I thought I was dealing with a man of honor." - -"Ah, Mrs. Ward, few of us can aspire to your high principles!" - -The sneer infuriated her. "You can deny the stiletto if you like to -the public, but you dare not do so to me." - -"Why not? For the sake of argument we will admit the existence of the -weapon. You come here with it in your hand and state that you found it -in my coat--in the lining of the coat." - -"And I did--I did--you know I did." - -"Indeed, I know nothing of the sort. I deny that the stiletto was ever -in pocket or in lining. I did not see you take it out." - -"I waited till you were out of the room before I examined the coat." - -"Of course, but by doing so you have defeated your own object. Had you -produced the weapon from the coat and showed it to me at the very -moment, your accusation might have held water. As it is, the thing is -simply ridiculous. You come here, you accuse me of a crime----" - -"I did not accuse you," said Mrs. Ward, beginning to find that -Derrington was too much even for her. "I believe Brendon killed the -woman--oh, yes! You went to the house and you saw him. He and Mrs. -Jersey had words, as she would not confess, and Brendon killed her -with the stiletto. Then you came in, and to save him you put the -dagger into your pocket, sent him up to bed, and promised to hold your -tongue, and----" - -Derrington laughed. "You have a most vivid imagination, Mrs. Ward," he -said, with a shrug; "but, as it happens, you are talking nonsense. I -was not at Amelia Square that evening, but at my club, as any member -then present can assure you. I can prove what is called an alibi, Mrs. -Ward, which means that I can account for every moment of my time, from -the minute I left this house to the minute I returned to find you -here. As to the stiletto you say you took out of my pocket, that is -rubbish. On the whole, I think you had better hold your tongue." - -"If I go to the police they will open that drawer." - -"Oh, no! An Englishman's house is his castle, you know, and a man in -my position cannot be treated in the way you suggest with impunity. -Moreover, Mrs. Ward, there is ample time to destroy the stiletto." - -"Which you will do," she said, recovering her composure, now that she -found it was useless to protest. - -"No. I wouldn't even mind showing it to the police and saying how you -brought it here with an accusation. If the police can prove that this -is the weapon with which Mrs. Jersey was stabbed, and if you and the -police can prove that the stiletto was in my pocket on the night of -the murder, then you and the police--" Derrington made an ironical -bow--"are extremely clever." - -"Oh, very well," said Mrs. Ward, realizing her defeat, "I shall say -nothing about you. But Brendon----" - -"You will hold your tongue about him also. I quite understand how you -proposed to hold this stiletto, and the tale of its being discovered -in my pocket, over me. If I did not consent to the marriage of Miss -Ward and Walter--eh?" - -"I must do the best for my child." - -"Even going so far as threats. Well, I have too high a respect for -Miss Ward to ask her to marry such a worm as Walter. She would do -better to take Brendon." - -"She shan't marry him." - -"Why do you hate the man so?" asked Derrington, looking into her eyes. -"I know he is a strong man, and for the money's sake you do not want -him to be your son-in-law. But even this does not account for your -hatred. Why do you hate him?" - -"I have nothing to say," retorted Mrs. Ward, who had flushed and paled -alternately during this speech. "Please see me to the door." - -Derrington walked to the door and opened it with a bow. "Willingly. I -think we understand one another." - -"I think we do," said Mrs. Ward, with an artificial laugh. "You do -credit to your reputation, Lord Derrington." - -"Praise from Mrs. Ward is praise, indeed," said the ironical old -gentleman as he descended the stairs side by side with the woman who -could have found it in her heart to kill him. "I am sorry to ask you -to leave me so soon, as our conversation was most enjoyable. But I -have to see a certain Mr. Ireland----" - -"Is that Brendon's guardian?" asked Mrs. Ward, coming to a sudden stop -in the hall. - -"His former guardian," corrected Derrington. "How do you come to know -of him, Mrs. Ward?" - -"I think Dorothy mentioned the name," she said in rather a faltering -tone. "Dear me, how my face burns! I wish I had a veil." - -"I am sorry, Mrs. Ward, but the late Lady Derrington's veils are not -modern enough for you." - -"What nonsense!" said Mrs. Ward, who appeared flurried. "Please tell -your man to call a cab. I sent away the carriage." - -"Let me send you home in mine." - -"No! No, I want to go at once," and she approached the door quickly. -"When did you say Mr. Ireland was coming?" - -Derrington glanced at his watch. "He is due now," he said, and looked -at her, wondering why she asked the question. - -Mrs. Ward's face was turned away. She was dressed in furs and carried -a muff. When the door was opened by the footman a gentleman appeared -on the threshold. Mrs. Ward lifted her muff to her face, but not -before the stranger had caught sight of her face and had uttered an -ejaculation of surprise. "You!" he said, stepping forward. - -"What do you mean?" said Mrs. Ward, with her face still hidden. "Lord -Derrington, this friend of yours is making a mistake. Tell that man to -be quick calling a cab." And she moved past the stranger. - -"Pardon," he said politely, "but I wish to speak with you." - -Derrington bent his bushy brows. "Let the lady pass," he said; "who -are you, sir, to stop the egress of my guests?" - -"My name is Rodger Ireland," said the stranger, quietly, "and I have -been looking for that lady for over thirty years." - -"What does the man mean?" asked Mrs. Ward, haughtily, but looking -disturbed. - -"Lord Derrington," said Ireland, "I think if you will permit this lady -and me to have a talk----" - -"There seems to be some mistake," said Derrington. "Mrs. Ward, will -you not wait until we rectify it?" - -"No. The man is mad. Let me pass, sir. There is the cab." - -She would have stepped out but Ireland again placed his bulky form in -her way. It was all done so tactfully that the footman on the pavement -did not notice anything unusual. The man was waiting by the cab to -assist Mrs. Ward in. But Ireland would not let her pass. - -"Lord Derrington," he said softly, lest the footman should overhear, -"this is the lady who was with your son when he was murdered." - -Derrington was not easily startled, but he turned suddenly white. Mrs. -Ward shrank back into the hall. Now that the truth was told she seemed -to recover from her fears and to regain all her tact. "I shall not -want the cab at present," she said to the footman. "Tell the man to -wait. Lord Derrington, if you do not wish these private affairs to be -discussed in the presence of the servants we had better return to the -library." - -Lord Derrington could only stare, being confounded at her coolness. He -was much moved by the unexpected mention of his dead son, and without -a word went up the stairs again, while Mrs. Ward followed, and Ireland -came at her heels. She looked as though she were a prisoner between -two guards. - -When they found themselves in the library Derrington closed the door -and went to his seat. He looked much older, having aged in a most -extraordinary manner under the shock of Ireland's information. Mrs. -Ward was perfectly cool, and resumed her former seat. As to Ireland, -he let himself carefully down into the most capacious armchair he -could find. Mrs. Ward opened the conversation at once. - -"You say you saw me at San Remo?" she asked. - -"I did," replied Ireland, in his heavy voice. "I was there at the time -Mr. Percy Vane was murdered--" Derrington groaned--"and I was at the -masked ball where----" - -"The Veglioni," said Mrs. Ward. "Well, you were there. You say you saw -me?" - -"In a blue domino." - -"There were plenty of blue dominoes at that ball--at least I should -think there were." - -"Yes, but you wore a sprig of yellow holly. That was why I recognized -you when you were masked." - -"How did you know it was I?" - -"Because early in the evening you went into a box. I was there talking -to the Marchesa Beltrami, to whom the box belonged. You removed your -mask and I had ample opportunity to observe you." - -"What reason had you to observe me?" asked Mrs. Ward, just as though -she were counsel examining a witness. - -"Well," said Ireland, smoothing his face, "you see I knew Mr. Vane -very well. He married a woman of whom I was fond." Derrington shifted -restlessly in his chair. "Do not be afraid, Lord Derrington, I do not -intend to talk of Rosina Lockwood----" - -"You are talking to me at present," said Mrs. Ward, sharply. "You can -talk to Lord Derrington later." - -"I rather think, ma'am," said Ireland, "that Lord Derrington will want -to talk to you." - -"At present I say nothing," was his lordship's reply, and he watched -the two faces before him with close attention. - -"You saw me unmask in a certain box," said Mrs. Ward, quickly. "Do you -mean to say that after all these years--over thirty years--that you -recognize me again? I was a girl then; I am a--a----" She was about to -say old woman, as being more emphatic with the adjective, but her -vanity made her swallow the word. "I am a woman now." - -"Quite so. But you have a mole on your forehead just above the left -eyebrow. I knew you by that; and then I have a splendid memory for -faces, and yours--" Ireland bowed gallantly--"is too beautiful to -forget easily." - -Mrs. Ward shrugged her shoulders. She did not want compliments, but -she wished very much to get out of the trouble in which she found -herself involved. "It's a most remarkable memory," she said. - -"It is, madam," assented Ireland; "my memory was always considered -remarkable. And the fact is that I was thinking of the murder almost -at the moment I entered the hall. Consequently your face was in my -mind's eye. That made the chance of recognizing you more sure. Had I -not been thinking of old days I might not have guessed so readily who -you were." - -"Why were you thinking of the murder, then?" asked Derrington. - -"Well, my lord, you sent for me to speak with me about George--" Mrs. -Ward gave a short laugh, and Derrington smiled--"so I was naturally -thinking of George; such a thought led to my thinking of his parents, -and finally I remembered the circumstance of your son's death, as I -thought you might wish to talk of it, and therefore desired to get my -memory in order. In this way did I recognize the lady." - -"This is all very well," said Mrs. Ward. "You say you recognize me, -Mr. Ireland. Is that your name?" - -"It is, but your memory is not so good as mine. We met only once." -Derrington was not so sure if Mrs. Ward's memory was not good, for he -remembered how she had tried to get away before the arrival of -Ireland. "Go on! Go on!" he said irritably. "I wish to know the -worst." - -"The worst is that I am supposed to have killed Percy Vane," said Mrs. -Ward, coolly. "So you accuse me of that?" she asked Ireland. - -"By no means. But you were at that ball----" - -"I was. In a blue domino with a sprig of holly at my breast." - -"And you were with Mr. Vane?" - -"No, I was not!" - -"You went out with Mr. Vane." - -"I did not. It was my sister." - -"Your sister!" said Derrington. "Hah!" and he relapsed into silence. -Mrs. Ward shot a suspicious look at him, but his inscrutable face -betrayed nothing. - -"I remember," said Ireland, in a slow, prosy way, "that there were two -Miss Howards at San Remo--at the Hotel d'Angleterre. They were with -their father, General Howard. I never met them, but Mr. Vane went -frequently to call at the house." - -"He did," said Mrs. Ward, "if by house you mean the hotel. The fact -is, my sister Jenny was in love with Captain Vane----" - -"I heard it was you," said Ireland, distrustfully. - -"It was my sister," said Mrs. Ward, coldly. "We thought Mr. Vane would -marry her, but he certainly showed no signs of proposing. I suppose he -was too fond of his dead wife," and she shot a sneering look at Lord -Derrington, who winced. - -"Don't say a word against Rosina Lockwood," said Ireland, quickly. - -"You see what he calls her," said Mrs. Ward to Derrington. "There was -no marriage." - -"Ma'am!" cried Ireland, rising. - -"Oh, never mind," replied Mrs. Ward, waving her hand. "There is no -need for you to lose your temper, my good man. I am not going to speak -of the woman----" - -"She was an angel." - -"And a woman--that's the generic name for the sex. However, it was my -sister Jenny who loved Percy Vane. She would go to the ball, and -persuaded me to go with her. We slipped out of the hotel and went -without a chaperon. Our father would have been shocked had he known, -but it was merely the escapade of two schoolgirls. I went with a -friend, and Jenny looked about for Mr. Vane. We agreed to meet after -an hour and go home. As there were other blue dominoes at the ball we -each wore--" and Mrs. Ward repeated the word to emphasize the -fact--"_each_ a sprig of yellow holly. I went to a box to have supper -with a certain cousin of mine and my sister then departed with Mr. -Vane." - -"Why did she leave the ballroom?" asked Derrington. - -"Because Mr. Vane was shocked. He recognized her voice and made her -unmask. He insisted on taking her home first, and then intended to -return for me, as he could not find me at the moment. They went out -together, Mr. Ireland, and that is the last I saw of Mr. Vane." - -"What was the last your sister saw of him?" - -"She was at the hotel and in our bedroom when I returned, which I did -after looking vainly for her. She said that Mr. Vane had escorted her -to the hotel and had left her at the gate at her earnest request, as -Jenny was so afraid lest my father should hear of our escapade. She -said good-night to Mr. Vane and then went to her room. When we heard -of the murder next morning she became very ill and my father took her -away. But she always declared to me that she did not know who murdered -Percy Vane." - -"Did your father ever know that she was in Vane's company on that -night?" asked Ireland. - -"Never! We kept our folly a profound secret from him." - -"Did any one else know?" - -"You did," said Mrs. Ward sharply; "and Mr. Vane did, and a servant at -the hotel--an English servant who attended to us. In fact, it was she -who procured the yellow holly by which Jenny and I were to identify -one another." - -"What was her name?" asked Derrington, quickly, and raising himself in -his chair with eagerness to hear the answer. - -"Eliza Stokes." - -"Ah! I thought so. Mrs. Jersey?" - -"Yes, Mrs. Jersey. And now, Lord Derrington, you know how I come to -take such an interest in the death of that woman." - -"Yes. But I cannot understand how you came to know that Mrs. Jersey -was Eliza Stokes." - -"That's my business," flashed out Mrs. Ward. "Or why," pursued -Derrington, unmoved, "why you sent her the yellow holly?" - -"Because I was not quite positive if she really was Eliza Stokes. I -thought that the yellow holly, being connected in her mind with the -death of Mr. Vane, would make her betray herself." - -"It did in a way--but to Brendon. He would not have told you." - -"He would doubtless have told Dorothy, and she would have told me." - -Ireland, in his thoughtful, ponderous way, turned this matter over in -his own mind. "Where is your sister now?" he asked. - -Mrs. Ward replied with some reserve. "I can't tell you that. She went -out of her mind for a time after the murder of Mr. Vane, and after she -came out of the asylum we were all afraid to live with her. My father -put her under some one's charge, and when he died she was allowed an -annuity. Her guardian died and my sister vanished. We made no attempt -to find her, and it was supposed that she had put an end to herself." - -Ireland looked at Derrington. "Did you ever meet Miss Jenny Howard, my -lord?" he asked. - -"No," said Derrington, "but I have known Mrs. Ward for many, many -years." - -"Quite twenty," said Mrs. Ward, with an artificial laugh. "We grow -old. No, Mr. Ireland, Lord Derrington never met my sister. Why you ask -I cannot conceive!" - -"Because Lord Derrington is under a wrong impression. He has met your -sister, and in this very room." - -"I beg your pardon," began Derrington. "I----" - -Ireland cut him short. "She called to see you here about the renewal -of the Amelia Square lease." - -"Miss Bull?" said his lordship. "I thought there was something -familiar about her face. So Miss Bull is Mrs. Ward's sister?" - -"She told me so herself," was Ireland's reply. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE PIPE OF PEACE - - -Brendon was much astonished a day or two later to receive an -invitation to dine with his grandfather. After the somewhat stormy -interview he had participated in with the old tyrant, George certainly -never expected to be treated well by the man whose path he had -crossed. He had heard many tales of Derrington's pride, and of his -relentless pursuit of those whom he conceived had done him wrong. As -George had fought the old man with his own weapons, and had come off -victor, he did not expect to be pardoned. - -But in this he was wrong. Derrington, sickened with Walter's -milk-and-water ways, saw in Brendon a worthy successor who would be -able to hold his own in will and word, and would shed fresh luster on -the house. Had George been polite, and what the old lord sneeringly -called cringing, he would never have received the invitation. As it -was, Derrington took him to his hard old heart. He chuckled to think -of Walter's dismay when he heard that he had an elder cousin and would -not be likely to inherit the title or the money. - -However astonished, Brendon was too much a man-of-the-world to reveal -his feelings. On the evening in question he presented himself at the -mansion in St. Giles Square, scrupulously groomed and brushed. -Derrington looked approvingly on his dress, which set off a handsome -figure to advantage. - -Also the haughty bearing of Brendon pleased him, and he unbent so far -as to advance to George with outstretched hand. - -"We had rather a rough interview, George," he said, "so I have invited -you to smoke the pipe of peace." - -Brendon shook the old man's hand quietly, but without much enthusiasm. -He could not conjecture what Derrington meant by behaving in a way -so different to that he usually adopted. His host felt the slack -hand-clasp, and winced on seeing the want of response in Brendon's -face. Queerly enough Derrington, contrary to accepted opinion, had a -heart, and was so much taken with George that he wished to draw him to -himself. Still, he could not but admit that seeing how he had treated -the young fellow in the past it was not to be expected that Brendon -would act the part of an affectionate relative immediately. Derrington -rather admired George for his uncompromising attitude. - -"Dinner will be ready soon," said the old lord, waving Brendon to a -seat; "only our two selves. I wish to consult you." - -"Consult me?" George could not keep the astonishment out of his face. - -"It's rather late in the day, is it not?" remarked Derrington, dryly, -"but you see I am old, George, and have not much time to spare. Yes, I -wish you to consult with me after dinner about--but that can come in -the course of our conversation. Meantime, let us talk of anything you -like." - -"The weather, sir?" - -"No, confound you," snapped Derrington, with a flash of his old -irritable self; "talk of wine, wit, and women if you like, but spare -me platitudes." - -Brendon stared at his shoes and smiled under his mustache. "I do not -think I can say anything very original about the subjects you -mention," he said quietly. - -"Talk of Miss Ward, then. You can be original on that point." - -Brendon would rather not have mentioned Dorothy, but he was quite -determined to show his grandfather that he fully intended to marry his -lady-love, and that he was not afraid to speak his mind. "I do not -fancy that there is anything particularly original in a love-story. I -met Miss Ward some three years before, I have loved her ever since, -and we will marry when----" - -"There, there," interrupted Derrington, waving his hand, "let us not -get on to that subject as yet. We can talk of it after dinner. In -fact, you may as well know that I asked you here to discuss your -position. We must have an understanding." - -"I think you must intend it to be a pleasant one," said Brendon, "as -you have asked me to dinner." - -"And to smoke the pipe of peace. There's the gong. Heigh-ho!"--he rose -rather sluggishly--"gout is stiffening my limbs." - -It struck Brendon that his grandfather looked old and very haggard. He -had lost his fresh color, his eyes were sunken, and the defiant curl -was out of his enormous mustache. He moved slowly toward the door, and -George felt sorry to see him so lonely. He knew that Derrington hated -all his relatives, and that his relatives cordially hated him, so -there was none to comfort the old man in his declining years. Walter -Vane was less than nothing, as his mere presence served to irritate -his grandfather. - -Moved by a sudden impulse, George made no remark, but moved to the -elder man's side and offered his arm. The footman was holding the door -open, and Derrington could not express, even by a look, the -satisfaction he felt. With a surly grunt he took Brendon's arm, but -George guessed by the warm pressure that Derrington was pleased. That -simple, kindly movement served to draw the two men closer together, -and they sat down to an excellent dinner in good spirits. - -It was quite a banquet, for Derrington lived in a most expensive -manner, and in spite of a sadly diminished income he would never abate -the splendor of the style in which he had lived all his life. The -table was a round one, laid with exquisite taste, and was placed under -a kind of velvet tent, which shut off the rest of the room and made -the meal particularly cosy. George, who had a taste for art, admired -the finish of the silver, the beauty of the Crown Derby service, the -glitter of the cut glass, which was unusually massive, and the -adornments of the table. It was a perfect little banquet, and after -the somewhat stale food of his lodgings, George enjoyed the meal -greatly. Derrington himself did not eat much, but he took great -pleasure in seeing George enjoy his viands. - -"I had a fine appetite myself once," he observed; "you have inherited -it from me. Never be ashamed to eat, George--it means good work. The -man who starves himself, starves his public." - -"You mean in the quality of his work, sir?" - -"Of course. Poor living means poor thoughts." - -"Well," said Brendon, with a smile, "I don't think rich living means -rich thoughts." - -"Certainly not. Whoever said it did? Remember the saying of the -Greeks, and, egad, they were the only people who ever knew how to -live." - -"What saying is that?" asked George. - -"Moderation is the corner-stone of dissipation." - -"Ah, that's good, sir. But were the Greeks ever dissipated?" - -"No, because they followed the advice of that epigram. George, if you -expect me to explain epigrams I shall lose my respect for you." - -"Have you any, sir?" - -"You wouldn't be here if I had not," said Derrington, pulling his huge -mustache. "There's your Cousin Walter----" - -"My cousin, sir?" - -"Of course. You know that." George thought it wiser, to say nothing, -although it was strange that Derrington should mention the -relationship himself. The old man gave him a quick glance and -continued: "As I say, there is your Cousin Walter. I wouldn't ask him -to dinner on any account. He's a fool, sir." - -"He means well." - -"If there is one class of people I hate more than another it is that -Pharisaic lot who mean well. They make all the mischief." - -"With the best intentions," put in Brendon, taking some wine. - -"Best intentions are fatal. How many plans have come to naught because -of best intentions? Take some of that port." - -"No more, thank you, sir." - -"I insist. There are walnuts." - -"I don't mind the nuts, but the port----" George shook his head. - -Derrington, at his own table, was too polite to press the matter, but -he scored up another victory to Brendon's strong will. More, he passed -off the matter with a laugh. "You have the hereditary gout, I see, -George, when you are afraid of a glass of port." - -"It's not that, sir, but I drink very little. I work on milk." - -"Bah!" Derrington made a wry face. "Then your work----" - -"Is all the better for it. Those who drink beer think beer." - -"And those who drink milk think cows, I should say." - -"Your knowledge on that point prevents contradiction on mine." - -Derrington chuckled. This was just the kind of epigrammatic reply he -relished. "You must enter the Diplomatic Service sir," said he, -looking approvingly from under his bushy brows. - -"Don't you think I'm rather old?" - -"Brains are never old, sir. And you have 'em. It's what the Diplomatic -Service in this country requires and what it never gets. I was in the -Service myself at one time." - -"So I have heard," said Brendon, cracking nuts composedly. - -"Eh! What did you hear?" - -"You must excuse me at your own table, sir." - -"Pooh, if you want to say anything disagreeable my own table is the -safest place you can say it at. I can't throw things at you." - -"Still, a guest must be polite," argued George. - -"I like my guests to be truthful." - -"Very well, sir, if you will have it--and I feel that it would be bad -manners to refuse your request--it is said that you nearly set Europe -by the ears when you were ambassador." - -Derrington roared. "I did--I did, and I wish I had brought about the -war I wanted. It would have done no end of good." - -"Does war ever do good?" asked Brendon, doubtfully. - -"Certainly. It stirs up things, and teaches men how to use their hands -and brains. Without war there is too much wrapping up in cotton-wool. -Don't tell me, George, that you aren't a soldier at heart, for nearly -all your ancestors fought for their country. - -"And fought their country also, I believe." - -"When they didn't get their rights," said Derrington, grimly. "I have -been a fighter myself all my life, and I've held my own." - -"So they say, sir, and I admire you for it." - -"Hah! Very good of you, I'm sure," said Derrington, ironically, "but -in my old age I can't hold my own, so I have to call in you." - -George looked surprised. "Do you intend to do me the honor to ask for -my advice, sir?" - -"Bless my soul, are you also without understanding, sir? Didn't I say -so when you first came?" - -"Of course. I forgot." - -"You shouldn't forget, though it's useful at times to do so." - -"In what cases, sir?" - -"Forget a woman's age, forget to talk about yourself, and forget your -relations if you can. Come," he added, seeing George laughing, "the -wine and food have thawed you. There's coffee in the library, and we -can talk over our cigars. Up I get. George, your arm." - -He not only asked for it, but took it with marked pleasure. The -footman in attendance returned to the servants' hall to state that the -Old Devil (the domestic name for Derrington) had quite taken to the -new young gentleman. Had the servants known who George was, they would -have had a long gossip. As it was, they simply said that the Old Devil -was always taking fancies and soon grew tired. - -Meanwhile, Brendon was seated in a comfortable chair, enjoying one of -the best cigars he had ever placed between his lips. At his elbow -smoked a cup of Mocha, and in the chair on the other side of a roaring -fire of sea-timber smiled Lord Derrington. He looked a grim and -determined old gentleman as he bent his shaggy brows on his grandson. -He was becoming more and more delighted with the young man. "I shall -have a prop for my old age at last," he thought. "Damme, he's a fine -fellow! Ah, youth! youth!" - -George was very comfortable, and also felt grateful for the kindness -which his grandfather was showing him. At the same time he felt as -though he were acting wrongly in hobnobbing with a man who -persistently blackened his mother's memory. But Brendon thought he saw -signs of repentance in Derrington, and wished to improve the situation -if he could. It was difficult for him to quite forgive the old rascal, -but he was sorry for his loneliness and haggard looks. Besides, George -was a Christian in more than merely going to church on Sunday. - -"I suppose you wondered when you received my invitation," said -Derrington, in his hardest tone. - -"I did, sir. I wondered very much." - -"And you felt inclined to refuse." - -"I had almost made up my mind to." - -"Why did you change your mind?" - -George pondered, and looked again at his neat shoes. "Well, sir," said -he, after a pause, "I thought that after a dinner we might come to -understand each other better, and I am anxious for peace." - -"And for recognition of your birth." - -"Naturally. The one included the other." - -"Does that mean you will fight till you get what you want?" - -"Yes," said George curtly, and then closed his lips with a firm -determination to give battle if necessary. At the same time he felt it -was rather awkward after eating Derrington's food. A sudden impulse -made him rise. - -"What's the matter now?" asked Derrington, not moving. - -"Well, sir," burst out Brendon with a candor unusual in him, "I have a -feeling that we are going to quarrel, and in your own house, and after -that very excellent dinner I don't want to behave rudely. It will be -better to postpone this talk to some other time." - -"Not a bit of it," said Derrington, quietly; "we are relatives, and -quarrels between relatives do not count. Sit down. I have something -important to say to you." - -George sat down and prepared for the worst. "We'll leave the question -of your birth alone for the present," said the elder in a hard tone. -"At this moment I wish to talk of Mrs. Jersey's death." - -"Yes;" said Brendon, looking down. - -"Also about your father's death." - -"What has that to do with this, sir?" - -"I believe the one is connected with the other." - -George remembered what Bawdsey had said. "I've heard that remark -before," he observed. - -"Of course. That detective I employed to watch you made it." - -"He did. I think you trust that man too much, sir," said Brendon, -after a pause. - -"Do you? I thought he was a friend of yours?" - -"Oh--" George shrugged his shoulders--"I saved his life, but that does -not constitute friendship." - -"I would fight a man who saved my life," said Derrington, grimly. - -"Well, sir, I don't think Bawdsey is worthy of your confidence." - -"I know he isn't. But you see I can't help myself." - -George looked up quickly. "Blackmail?" - -"Something of that sort. I intend to trust my own flesh and -blood--that is, I intend to tell you all I know connected with the -Jersey case, and ask you to help me to get the better of Bawdsey." - -"I shall do my best, sir." - -"Willingly?" - -"Assuredly, sir." - -Derrington was rather moved. "I have not behaved well, George." - -"That's true enough, sir," said George, who was not going to be weak, -"but you can make amends by acknowledging that my mother was an honest -woman." - -"I believe she was, George, for none but an honest woman could have -borne a son like you. But you see I know no more than you do where the -marriage took place." - -"Do you acknowledge that there was a marriage?" said George, starting -to his feet. Derrington rose also, and the tall men faced one another. -Then the elder placed his hands on the shoulders of the younger, with -a look on his face which Brendon had never seen before. And certainly -the look was new to Derrington. - -"My boy," said he, "I am sure there was a marriage. I am sure that you -are my legitimate heir, and, by Heavens! I intend to acknowledge you -as such before the week's out." - -Brendon was so moved by this sudden recognition of all he longed for -that a sudden weakness seized him, and he sat down, covering his face -with his hand. Derrington thought the young man did so to conceal his -tears, but in reality George was putting up a short thanksgiving for -this wonderful and bloodless victory. His grandfather again touched -his shoulder. "My boy," he said again, and his voice was broken with -emotion, "I have behaved badly. I ask your pardon." - -George put out his hand blindly and grasped that of his grandfather. -When it was once in the old man's grip he raised his grandson with a -jerk and made him look him in the face. "You forgive me?" he asked. - -"With all my heart and soul," said Brendon, quietly, and after another -handshake they resumed their seats. The scene which both had dreaded -was over, and now they sat like two friends who had known each other -for years. George felt that as Derrington had done justice to the -memory of his mother, and Derrington was pleased to feel that he now -had a grandson and heir worthy of his name. - -"I can marry Dorothy now," said Brendon, with a contented sigh. - -"If my influence can help you--yes." Derrington paused and shook his -head. "But there is a lioness in the path, George." - -"Mrs. Ward?" - -"Exactly. She will move heaven and earth to prevent the marriage." - -George looked puzzled. "I see no reason why she should oppose it, if I -am acknowledged as your heir." - -"Nor do I. I thought myself that it was simply the money she wanted, -and if you were the son-in-law she would not get her claws on the -gold. But there is more in it than that. She seeks revenge." - -"On me? I have never harmed her." - -"It's a vicarious revenge. I believed that woman loved your father, -George, and that he slighted her; that is why she wants to visit his -sin--as with a vindictive spirit she may regard it--on you." - -"Did Mrs. Ward know my father, sir?" asked George, quickly. - -"Yes. She met him at San Remo." - -"Then she knew he was murdered?" - -"Of course. I saw Mrs. Ward the other day, George. She came here to -force me to harm you and to consent to Walter marrying Dorothy." - -"Oh! You never agreed to that." - -"I have answered her challenge by asking you to dinner and will -acknowledge you my heir. Mrs. Ward will then try and make mischief." - -"Can she do so?" - -"Yes. She knows that I was in Mrs. Jersey's house on that night." - -"And you were, sir?" - -Derrington made a most unexpected reply. "No, I was not." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -LORD DERRINGTON EXPLAINS - - -George was rather puzzled to reconcile the apparent contradiction in -Derrington's speech. The old gentleman saw his bewilderment, and -before the young man could speak he anticipated his question. - -"You are perplexed," he said quietly. "I thought you would be. To -explain myself clearly it will be better to tell you the whole story -from the beginning." - -"What story?" - -"The story of your mother's marriage and of my quarrel with your -father. Do not be afraid, I shall say nothing to hurt your pride." - -George nodded. "I am sure of that. We are friends now." - -Derrington was much gratified by this speech. But he merely -acknowledged it with a grunt and began his family history at once. - -"Your father and I never got on well," he said frankly, "and I fear it -was my fault. I wanted Percy to obey me implicitly, and as he was of -an age to judge for himself he objected. You would have done the like -in his case." - -"I certainly should, sir. Every man should judge for himself." - -"If he has brains to do so. But I fear Percy was not overburdened with -brains. He was gay and thoughtless and thriftless. Your talents, -George, come from your mother. She must have been a remarkable woman." - -"So Mr. Ireland says." - -"Pooh! he was in love with her, and a man in love is incapable of -giving an opinion. However, I saw your mother several times when she -sang, although I never met her to speak to. She was very beautiful and -had an intellectual face. Yes, George, it is from her that you inherit -your brain. From my side of the family you inherit a strong will and a -propensity to fight. There is Irish blood in our veins," said -Derrington, grimly. - -"Was my father a fighter?" - -"In a way, yes. But he had not a strong will, save in resisting me." - -George smiled and said nothing, but he privately thought that if Mr. -Percy Vane could hold his own against Derrington he must have had a -stronger will than the old gentleman gave him credit for. - -"However, to continue," pursued Derrington, pushing away his empty -cup. "Percy saw Miss Lockwood, he fell in love with her, and finally -he eloped. I wrote him a letter saying he was to return or I would -never see him again. He declined to return, and remained on the -Continent with his wife. I never did see him again," added Derrington, -quietly, "for three years later he was murdered at San Remo." - -"In his letter to you did my father say he was married?" - -"He did; but at the time, as he did not say where the marriage was -celebrated, I thought he mentioned it out of obstinacy." - -George colored. "I don't see why you should have so misjudged my -mother," he said hotly. "Admitting that she was not born in the -purple, she was in a good position and had no reason to run away with -my father." - -"She was in love with him, I believe." - -"Even then she would not have eloped, unless it was to be married." - -Derrington nodded. "You are perfectly right," he said; "I tried to -disbelieve in the marriage, but in my own heart I knew there was one. -I have behaved very badly, George." - -"You have, sir. But as we are now reconciled the less said about the -thing the better. You are quite sure you do not know where the -marriage was celebrated?" - -"No, George, I do not. After the death of your father I tried to find -out, but it was impossible. Had I really seen the register of the -marriage I should have acknowledged you as my heir. As a matter of -fact," added Derrington, with a burst of candor, "I did not trouble -much to search, as I feared lest the marriage should be verified." - -George wriggled in his seat. "Let us say no more," he said. - -"Very good. I have confessed my sins and I have received absolution -from you. At the present moment we will leave the murder of your -father at San Remo alone, and come to the appearance of Mrs. Jersey in -my life. You were with your grandfather Lockwood in Amelia Square. I -had constituted my second son my heir, and I had relegated to -obscurity the escapade of my son Percy. All was nicely settled, in my -humble opinion, when Mrs. Jersey appeared to make trouble. That was -eight years after your father's death." - -"Where was she in the mean time?" - -"I cannot say. She told me nothing of her history, but from a word or -two which she let slip I believe she must have been in the United -States. Why she went there from San Remo, or for what reason, I cannot -say. She came here to see me--we had an interview in this very -room--to demand money." - -"What threat did she make?" - -"That she would tell where the marriage took place," - -"And you bribed her to keep silence?" - -Derrington winced at the scorn in his grandson's voice and took a turn -up and down the room. "I am no saint, I admit," he said, "and at the -time, George, I did not know that you would turn out such a fine -fellow. I dreaded a scandal, and there was your uncle to be -considered. I had made him my heir." - -"And what about me, sir? Were the sins of my father to be placed on my -shoulders?" - -"I have admitted that I was in the wrong," said Derrington, -impatiently, "spare me further sermons." - -"I beg your pardon," said George, quietly. "But please touch as -lightly as possible on these matters. We will admit that you acted -according to your lights." - -"False lights," said his grandfather, sadly. "However, we need speak -no more on that particular point. Mrs. Jersey said that she knew where -the marriage was celebrated, adding that if I did not give her an -annuity she would go to Lockwood and help him to prove that you were -my legitimate grandson and heir." - -"Did she say if the marriage was celebrated in England or abroad?" - -"No, sir; Mrs. Jersey was a remarkably clever woman, and if my son -Percy had married her she would have made a man of him." - -"Then she really was in love with my father?" - -"Very deeply in love--as she told me herself. But she did not regard -his memory with such veneration as to desire to aid his son. She was -content that you should lose your rights, provided that I paid her an -annuity. I tried in vain to learn from her where the marriage had been -celebrated. She refused to open her mouth, so I allowed her an annuity -of five hundred a year----" - -"That was a large sum," interposed George. - -Derrington shrugged his shoulders. "Much larger than I could afford, -my good sir," he said, "but Mrs. Jersey dictated her own terms. I -arranged that the money should be paid through my lawyers, and she -vanished." - -"Where to?" - -"I can't say. She might have gone to rejoin Mr. Jersey if there ever -was such a person. She sent a messenger regularly to the office of my -lawyers for the money, but did not trouble me in any way. Her next -appearance was shortly after the death of your grandfather." - -"What did she want this time?" - -"To set up a boarding-house in Amelia Square. She said that her life -was lonely--a remark which made me think Mr. Jersey was a myth--and -that she wanted company. I expect she learned in some way that I was -buying old Lockwood's house." - -"Why did you buy it?" - -"I have a lot of property in that district, and I wanted to round it -off with this house. Ireland, in his rage at me for my treatment of -your mother, would not have sold it to me. I bought the house through -an agent; Mrs. Jersey must have heard of the purchase, for it was then -that she came to me and asked me to set her up in the house as a -landlady." - -"I wonder why she did that," said George, thoughtfully. - -"She was lonely, I understand." - -George looked at his shoes. "As Eliza Stokes she lived in that house -along with my mother previous to the elopement. I expect she had a -kind a affection for it." - -"Well, whatever her reason was, I did what she asked. She agreed to -pay me a rent, and her money was as good as any one else's. Besides, I -felt that as my tenant I could keep her under my own eye. When she was -away I never knew but what she might die and part with the secret to -some one else, who might come on me for blackmail, also. I thought it -best Mrs. Jersey should have the house so she went into it and used -the old furniture. I don't deny but what she was a good business woman -and made the house pay. At all events she was never behindhand with -her rent." - -"I wonder she paid you any at all." - -"Oh, she had her annuity and was afraid of pressing me too hard. I -refused to let her the house on a seven years' lease. She only had it -from year to year, and in that way I kept a check on her. She knew if -I once lost my temper that I would throw her over and acknowledge you -as my heir." - -"I wish you had done so," said Brendon, moodily; "it would have saved -a lot of trouble." - -"I do so now," replied Derrington, testily; "better late than never. -Well, Mrs. Jersey lived and flourished for fifteen years. I tried to -find you out, George, lest she should get at you----" - -"Oh, was that why you offered to make me an allowance?" - -"It was. I intended to give you a yearly income on condition that you -went to Australia; then I could be sure that Mrs. Jersey would not -seek you out. But you refused my offer and disappeared." - -"I went to college under the name of Brendon," observed George. - -"And that is why Mrs. Jersey never found you, and why I could not come -across you until you put those advertisements about the marriage into -the papers. It was that which----" - -"Yes, so Bawdsey told me. You had me watched." - -"I did," said Derrington, "and in that way I found out that you were -going to stop in Mrs. Jersey's house." - -"How did you learn that, sir?" asked George in surprise. "I never told -any one." - -"Oh, yes, you told Lola." - -"So I did," said Brendon, quickly; "she bothered me to come and see -her, and I said that I was going to stop in the neighborhood of Amelia -Square with a friend and would call on her the next day. I expect she -told this to Bawdsey. - -"Exactly, and Bawdsey told me. I was afraid lest you should make Mrs. -Jersey confess. I wrote to her and asked her to see me. She refused to -come to my house, so I made up my mind to seek her out in Amelia -Square. I arranged by letter with her to call about eleven o'clock at -her place and see her secretly." - -"Why secretly, and why at night?" - -"Can't you see, George? My height and figure make me so conspicuous -that I knew I would be recognized if I went in the daytime, and then -people would ask themselves why Lord Derrington went to see a -lodging-house keeper." - -"You could have put it down to her being a tenant." - -"Ah," said Derrington, grimly, "I never thought of that. I received a -note from Mrs. Jersey saying she would wait for me on Friday evening -at eleven o'clock in her sitting-room; it was a foggy night, if you -remember." - -"Very foggy. I suppose you traced the house by means of the red light -over the door." - -"I did not trace the house at all," said Derrington, quietly. "I did -not go near the house." - -"But I saw you," insisted George. - -"You saw my coat and a man with my tall figure, and having my -association with yourself in your head you jumped to the conclusion -that the figure was me." - -"Then if not you, who was the man?" - -"Bawdsey!" said Derrington, curtly. - -George stared. "In your coat?" he said incredulously. - -"It seems strange," said Derrington, "but the fact is that Bawdsey is -one of the few who have got the better of me in my life. It was in -this way that he prevented me from seeing Mrs. Jersey. On that night I -visited him at his rooms, which then were in Bloomsbury. I desired to -tell him that I intended to see Mrs. Jersey and to warn her against -revealing anything. I don't suppose the warning was needed, as she -knew when she was well off. But the fact is, Mrs. Jersey was not in -good health and was feeling compunction about keeping you out of your -rights. I learned from Bawdsey that Mrs. Jersey had written out a -confession of the whole matter and that she intended to leave this to -her niece, Margery Watson, so that I might be forced to continue the -lease of the house." - -George uttered an ejaculation. "I thought from what Margery said that -there was some such confession," he remarked, "but it is missing; it -was not found among her papers after her death. Unless Miss Bull took -it and forced you to----" - -"No," interrupted Derrington, vigorously, "she came here quietly and -put the case of the poor girl to me. She also undertook that the rent -would be paid regularly, and that through Miss Watson she would manage -the house. I was quite satisfied with the existing arrangements, and, -moreover, thought that, if such a confession were found, out of -gratitude Miss Watson might bring it to me." - -"If Miss Bull had told her to she would have done so but not -otherwise," said George; "she is under Miss Bull's thumb." - -"The best place she could be, George. The girl is a born idiot from -what I saw of her. However, you know why I renewed the year-by-year -lease. Where the confession is I have no idea; but the person who -holds it will certainly make use of it some day to extort money, and -then we will learn who killed Mrs. Jersey." - -"I dare say. The assassin must have taken the papers. Well?" - -Derrington proceeded with his account of his doings on that night. "As -I said, I went to see Bawdsey at his rooms. I took a cab, and as the -fog was thick I had considerable difficulty in finding the place. The -rain and fog chilled me, for I am not so young as I was, and when I -arrived I was shivering. But I was too anxious to tell Bawdsey about -Mrs. Jersey, to trouble. He heated some water to give me a glass of -hot whisky. While the water was boiling I told him, I was going to see -Mrs. Jersey. He asked me how I could get into the house without being -admitted by one of the servants and thus run a chance of my visit -being known." - -"Did it never strike him that Mrs. Jersey expected you and would admit -you when you rang?" - -"Yes, it did strike him; but he knew that I didn't want any one to -know that she had a visitor so late at night." - -"I don't know why you took all these precautions, sir." - -Derrington smiled dryly. "Perhaps they were rather unnecessary, but I -thought it best to be on the safe side. As a matter of fact, I had a -latch-key." - -"I thought that Mrs. Jersey never allowed latch-keys." - -"This one came to me when I bought the house, and was given to me by -the agent. I told Mrs. Jersey I had it and that I would let myself in. -She expected me at eleven." - -"I know she did," said George, "for on that night she asked the -boarders to be in bed by eleven, and broke up her party at ten. I -wondered if she was having any one to meet her then." - -"She was expecting me. It was after ten when I told Bawdsey, and I -explained to him that I had a latch-key. He gave me the whisky, and, -being chilled, I drank it. Then I fell asleep." - -George looked up suddenly. "The whisky was drugged," he guessed. - -"It was," assented Derrington, "and while I was insensible Bawdsey -took the latch-key out of my pocket and put on my coat. He is rather -my height, so with that and the fur coat I expect he passed himself -off as me to Mrs. Jersey until she saw his face." - -"When she did, she would have nothing to do with him. Although," added -George, "he was an old boarder in the house." - -"Wait till I tell you the rest," said Derrington, "and then you can -give an opinion. When I woke it was after twelve. I never suspected -that the whisky had been drugged, and thought that it was some sort of -illness. Bawdsey was in the room when I awoke. He did not tell me that -he had been to Mrs. Jersey, and I now saw that it was too late to go. -He advised me to see her on the morrow, saying that it was doubtful if -you would speak to her on that night." - -"I intended to wait till the next day, but, as a matter of fact, I -became anxious to see if any one was with her, and I went down the -stairs." - -"By means of that secret door. Bawdsey told me." - -"Well, I crept downstairs, and saw--as I thought--you. It was, of -course, Bawdsey. He was standing at the door of the sitting-room. I -was afraid lest you--as I thought it was--should see me, so I went -upstairs again." - -"And Bawdsey left the house. However, I never suspected him. I went -home and found Mrs. Ward waiting for me. She came to tell me that she -had heard from Dorothy that you purposed to stop with Train at Mrs. -Jersey's house, and came to warn me." - -"How good of Mrs. Ward!" - -"She is a dangerous woman, George. I threw my coat on yonder sofa, and -she sat near it. Feeling something in the pocket, her curiosity led -her to take out the something when I was absent from the room. It was -a stiletto." - -George started from his seat. "A stiletto?" - -"Yes." Derrington opened the drawer in his desk and took out the -weapon which Mrs. Ward had brought. "This was between the fur and the -lining of the coat. What with the weight of the coat and the position -of this weapon lying along the bottom of the coat, I never suspected -it. I brought it home quite unconsciously. Mrs. Ward found it, took it -away with her, and came the other day to accuse me of having murdered -Mrs. Jersey." - -"How dare she do such a thing?" - -"Oh, Mrs. Ward is capable of all things! However you can see from what -I tell you what happened. Bawdsey put the stiletto in my coat and -either forgot to take it out or left it there so that I might be -incriminated." - -"Did he tell you this?" - -"He told me, when I rebuked him too sharply, that he could get me into -trouble, and explained how he had been in the house. He also referred -to the stiletto. I denied that I had seen it, and it was only when -Mrs. Ward brought it the other day that I saw that this part of -Bawdsey's story was true." - -"What did you do?" - -"I accused him of having killed the woman." - -"What did he say?" - -"He denied that he had done so. He declared that he went to Mrs. -Jersey's sitting-room door close upon twelve, having let himself in -noiselessly by the front door. He discovered Mrs. Jersey lying dead, -as she was found in the morning. On the floor was the stiletto. -Fearing lest he should be accused of the crime, Bawdsey left the house -quickly, but took the stiletto with him so that he might find out who -had done the deed. He changed his mind or left it by mistake in my fur -coat." - -"Did he ask money?" - -"No. He has not done so yet. But he told me very plainly that no one -could prove that he had been in the house on that night, and that if -he had been seen, the coat would make people think it was I." - -"Exactly what I did think," said George. - -"Well, I had to hold my tongue for you see I was in a most awkward -position and I could prove nothing. I bluffed Mrs. Ward, but if the -matter came into court things would look extremely unpleasant for me." - -"I can see that," said Brendon, "but Bawdsey----" - -"He has made himself secure, as no one can prove that he was in the -house on that night. Even you thought it was I. I can't say for -certain if Bawdsey committed the murder, or if he really did find the -woman dead as he said, but he swears to his innocence. As yet he has -not made any use of his power, but I am quite sure that he will try -and get money out of me, so I have asked you here to advise me about -the matter." - -"Do you think Bawdsey has the confession?" - -"He may have. If so, he knows where the marriage was celebrated!" - -Brendon mused for a time. "I think it best to do nothing at the -present moment," he said. "Bawdsey is friendly to me, as I saved him -from being run over. If he thought I knew this he might turn crusty -and make trouble. Better wait." - -"For what?" asked Derrington, restlessly. - -"To see what he will do. If he does blackmail you, call me in." - -Derrington drew a long breath. "Yes. I think you are right," he said. -"We will wait. But I don't trust that man." - -"He's a scoundrel," said George, "but I know how to conquer him." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -MISS BULL'S STORY - - -Miss Bull was alone in the sitting-room of the late Mrs. Jersey. -Margery had gone out shopping, and the old maid, left to her own -resources, amused herself, as usual, with playing Patience. With the -exception of a few old ladies in the drawing-room the house was empty, -and Miss Bull found the quiet very soothing. After a time she grew -weary of the game and seated herself in an armchair to meditate. - -Her thoughts were sad. Here she was, an old spinster dragging out a -miserable old age in a London lodging-house, while her sister lived -and fared sumptuously in accordance with her position. Miss Bull -looked back on all the trials she had passed through, and wondered how -she had been able to stand them. For a moment a revolt took place in -her breast at the cruel fate she had endured, but the feeling died -away, and she relapsed into the patient misery which was her usual -frame of mind. "It can't last much longer," said Miss Bull, with a -sigh. "I am getting old, and the end is coming. The sooner the -better." - -As she gave vent to this dreary sentence there was a ring at the door. -Miss Bull paid little attention to it, as she never had any visitors. -But this day proved to be an exception, for George was admitted into -the room. He advanced cordially toward Miss Bull. - -"I have come to see you again, you see," said Brendon. - -Miss Bull gave him her hand with a great deal of pleasure, and invited -him to be seated. Now that she had thawed towards George she treated -him kindly, and her face wore a less stony look. As the sun melts the -frost, so did the reserved nature of the old maid melt when in the -sunshine of Brendon's presence. More than that, Miss Bull actually -congratulated herself on Margery's absence, as it gave her a chance of -having the company of George all to herself. - -"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Brendon," she said, ringing the bell. -"You will have some tea?" - -"Thank you," replied Brendon, who thought she might thaw still more -under the influence of the tea-urn. "I suppose you wonder why I have -come again so soon?" - -Miss Bull smiled in her calm way. "You have come to make further -inquiries likely to forward your fight for your birthright?" - -George laughed. "There's no need for that, thank God," said he; "my -grandfather has agreed to acknowledge me." - -"Then there was a marriage?" - -"I cannot be certain of that yet. How do you know about that?" - -Miss Bull answered quietly: "You told me last time you were here that -you were Lord Derrington's grandson, and I heard that there was some -doubt about the legitimacy." - -"I know it was common talk at one time," replied Brendon, satisfied -with this explanation. "Did Mrs. Jersey ever speak about it?" - -"No. She never did. What did she know about it?" - -"I think you can best answer that question, Miss Bull." - -George looked hard at her, and a faint tinge of color crept into her -face. Before she could reply with a counter-question the servant -brought in the tea. Miss Bull waited to supply George with a cup -before she spoke. By that time the servant had left the room, and the -door, as Miss Bull assured herself, was closed. - -"I don't know to what you allude, Mr. Brendon." - -"Perhaps if I allude to your life in San Remo you----" - -Miss Bull started to her feet and the cup she held fell on the carpet. -"San Remo," she muttered. - -"Yes, Miss Howard," said Brendon, using her real name purposely. - -The little old maid put one thin hand to her head. "Miss Howard!" - -"The daughter of the late General Howard!" said George. - -"My father was a general." - -"He was. General Howard. You are Miss Jenny Howard." - -Miss Bull started and then sat down. Her face expressed pain. "He used -to call me Jenny. Jenny Howard. Yes, there was a happy girl of that -name, but she--she died." - -"Not at all," said Brendon, briskly, to arouse her from this dreamy -state. "She lived and changed her name to Bull." - -The woman pushed back her white hair and made an effort to be calm. -But her lip quivered. "Why have you come here to awaken these painful -memories?" she asked. - -"Because I wish to know how my father came by his death." - -"I do not know--indeed, I do not know," moaned Miss Bull, putting out -her hand as though to ward off the thought. - -"You may not know for certain, but you have some idea. Your sister, -Mrs. Ward----" - -Miss Bull's face flushed crimson, and she drew a deep breath. "Oh, -it's Violet's work, is it?" she said, and her eyes grew hard. "And -pray, Mr. Brendon, has she sent you to cross-question me?" - -"No. I come on my own behalf. You knew my father?" - -"Percy Vane. Yes, I knew him. He loved me---ah, indeed he did! That -night he asked me to be his wife, and had he not been murdered----" - -"Did he ask you when he was taking you home?" asked George, wondering -how Miss Bull would have behaved as his stepmother. - -"Taking me home? He never did that on the night of the ball." - -"Your sister, Mrs. Ward----" - -"I have no sister. I disown Violet. She is a wicked woman!" - -George was quite of this opinion, yet for the sake of Dorothy he -dissented. "She has her good points, Miss Bull. - -"No! no! She has no good points. She is selfish, vain, cruel, and -deceitful. A child of the devil. How do you know that I am her sister? -and how did you come to learn my name?" - -"Lord Derrington told me, and it was told to him by Mr. Ireland." - -"Your guardian." Miss Bull tapped her hand on the woodwork of her -chair. "He recognized me when I called to see him on that day about -the lease. But he promised to hold his tongue." - -"He would have done so had he not been startled by meeting Mrs. Ward -and recognizing in her the woman who had left the ball with my -father." - -"And Violet admitted this?" - -"No. She said that you had left the ball with my father. It was you -who wore the blue domino and the holly sprig." - -"Liar! Liar!" muttered Miss Bull; "but she is always the same. When I -saw her at the music-hall the other night her face wore the same false -smile. Oh, that I could see her punished as she deserves!" - -"God will punish her, Miss Bull." - -"He has delayed long," said the old maid with a bitter smile. "My -sister has enjoyed the good things of this life. She has had money, -position, praise, and all that a woman desires. As for myself--" She -looked round the room and burst into a bitter laugh. "Yet Jenny Howard -was always considered the prettier sister of the two." - -"Then it really was Mrs. Ward who left the ball." - -"It was. She lays the blame on my shoulders--" Miss Bull paused, and -her mouth worked nervously. "Does she accuse me of the crime?" - -"No. She says that you left Mr. Vane at the gate of the hotel." - -"Oh," muttered Miss Bull, "Percy came as far as that with her, did he? -And she said he left her at the door of the room where the ball was -being held. Liar! Liar! She always was. She always will be. Can the -leopard change his spots?" - -By this time the ice in Miss Bull's nature had melted under the heat -of her indignation. She walked hurriedly up and down the room, her -eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. George was pleased to see this, as -he thought she was the more likely to tell the truth when thus moved -by emotion than if she had remained calm. Miss Bull was so angered by -the memory of her wrongs that she struck her hand against the -mantelpiece so as to inflict pain. The shock seemed to nerve her, for -she drew a long breath and returned to her seat. With her eyes fixed, -on George she began abruptly. - -"Violet has told her story," she said, "now I will tell you mine. I -want to know, however, exactly what she said, in the exact words if -you can remember them." - -"I did not hear her speak," confessed George; "it was my grandfather -and Mr. Ireland to whom she told the story." - -"Story! Fable! Lie! Romance!" said Miss Bull, vehemently. "Well, tell -me what you can remember!" - -This George did as concisely as possible, for he feared lest Margery -should interrupt the interview. Miss Bull listened with a downcast -face and pursed-up lips. Not a word did she say, but when George ended -she looked up with a bitter smile. - -"She has simply put herself in my place," she said. "Wait!" - -For a moment or so she tried to compose herself. Then she raised her -head and looked her visitor squarely in the eyes. "I am going to tell -the truth," said Miss Bull, bravely, "therefore I have no need to shun -your gaze. Mr. Brendon, I loved your father." - -"So Mrs. Ward said." - -"And Violet loved him also." - -"He must have been a singularly attractive man," remarked Brendon, -wondering at this revelation. "My mother eloped with him; her maid was -in love with him, and now you and Mrs. Ward----" - -"Oh, Violet really did not love him. It was simply a desire to take -him from me that made her behave as she did. Violet never loved any -one in her life, save the person she sees in the mirror every day. A -selfish woman, Mr. Brendon, and a wicked one." - -This was no news to George, so he strove to coax her to tell him that -which he wished to know. "I don't quite understand, but if you will -relate the story----" - -"I shall do so at once. You may as well know all, and know also what a -bad woman I have for a sister. If she was dying," cried Miss Bull, -vehemently, "I wouldn't raise a finger to save her life." - -"We should forgive our enemies," hinted George. - -"I can't forgive her. I never will forgive her. She ruined my life, -George Brendon, she ruined my life." - -Brendon said nothing, and in a few moments Miss Bull composed herself -sufficiently to tell what she knew. "My father was General Howard," -she said quietly, "and Violet was my only sister. We never got on -well together. Violet was jealous of admiration, and as I was said to -be prettier than she was she hated me intensely. Whenever any one -liked me Violet would do her best to take him away from me." - -"I can quite believe that," said George, recalling Mrs. Ward's arts. - -"She did not always succeed, however," continued Miss Bull, with a -flush. "I had my admirers also, and some I could keep. But when Violet -could manage it, she always took them away." - -"You hinted that she took my father away," said Brendon. - -"She did--at least she tried to. But if he had not been murdered I -should have been Mrs. Vane in spite of Violet's arts." - -"Well, tell me how you came to San Remo and met my father." - -"Oh, I knew him before that. We were six months at Como and saw your -father frequently then. He and the General used to talk politics. Mr. -Vane was always bringing us books and magazines, and we used to climb -Mount Bisbino. What a delightful summer that was! I remember you -then," she added, looking at George with interest. "You were scarcely -two years old--a dear, good, fair little fellow. I met you and the -nurse sometimes, and often carried you. - -"Was the nurse's name Eliza Stokes?" - -"No. It was--let me see, some Scotch name--Jane Fraser, I think." - -"Ah! Then Eliza Stokes was not at Como?" - -"I never saw her. Mr. Vane told me that you had had another nurse, but -that he had to dismiss her at Milan for impertinence." - -George saw that Miss Bull was not keeping strictly to the truth, and -corrected her at once, "You knew Eliza Stokes at San Remo?" - -"So I did, I quite forgot." Miss Bull put her hand to her head with a -puzzled air. "But since my illness I have forgotten so much. It is all -a blank to me. Tell me, Mr. Brendon, have you ever felt as though you -were a ghost?" - -"No," replied George, keeping his countenance with difficulty. "I -don't think I ever experienced that feeling." - -Miss Bull looked vaguely at the window. "It is a strange feeling," -after which remark she lapsed into silence, still staring. - -Brendon remembered that she had been in an asylum, and thought that -her mind was still weak. It might be that after all she had not told -an untruth, but had quite forgotten Eliza Stokes. George was confirmed -in his supposition by her next remark. - -"Eliza Stokes. I remember. Mrs. Jersey." - -"You knew she was Mrs. Jersey?" - -"Yes. That was why I came to this house." - -"Did you like her then?" - -Miss Bull's eyes flashed. "She was another Violet. I hated her, oh, -how I hated her! I found her through my sister mentioning that Lord -Derrington had given her this house, so I came here to board." - -"But your sister knows nothing about you. She says you ran away and -that it was supposed you were dead." - -Miss Bull laughed bitterly. "My sister knows perfectly well that I -live here, but it suits her to disown the relationship. It is my wish -also, and for that reason I changed my name. No one would recognize -pretty Jenny Howard in poor Miss Bull." She paused for a moment and -then continued: "Yes. I knew that Eliza Stokes had become Mrs. Jersey, -and that is why I came here." - -"But if you hated her----" - -"I did--I did, but she was the only person who could talk about Mr. -Vane. She loved him also, but not as I did, and we have talked for -hours in this very room. We quarreled, certainly, but at times she was -very nice. I miss our talks greatly." - -It really seemed as though Miss Bull was weak in the head. She -admitted to hating Mrs. Jersey, and yet she came to stop with her. It -might be that Mrs. Jersey looked after her as a kind of keeper and -that she acted the tyrant. At that moment, as though answering his -thought, Miss Bull made a sudden observation. "Mrs. Jersey knew that I -had been in an asylum. She would have sent me back if she could, the -vile woman! But I was never afraid of her, never. And she always -talked to me of Mr. Vane," concluded Miss Bull in a softer tone. - -"Did she know who killed him?" - -Miss Bull shook her head. "No. She never knew. No one ever knew. I -sometimes thought that Violet--but she declared that he left her at -the door of the ballroom." - -"Miss Bull," said George, growing impatient of this disconnected -recital, "will you go on with your story?" - -"Story--yes, it is a story--a sad romance." She passed her hand again -over her forehead as though wearied, and resumed with an effort. "Mr. -Vane left Como and came to Milan; afterward he went on to San Remo. My -father, who liked his society, joined him there. We stopped at the -Hotel d'Angleterre. Eliza Stokes was a housemaid there, and it was -while attending to our bedroom that she told me she had been your -nurse. She was a large, stout girl with red cheeks. As Mrs. Jersey she -was vastly improved, but as a girl----" Miss Bull shuddered in a prim -way and continued: "Yet, she had her admirers. A waiter, called George -Rates, wished to marry her. She had accepted him, but while within -sight of Mr. Vane she could not love him." - -"How do you mean?" - -"Well, Eliza used to spy on Mr. Vane and follow him in his walks. She -was quite insane about him. I told Mr. Vane, and he kept away from the -hotel. And George Rates was jealous of Eliza's love for Mr. Vane. But -he never loved her, nor Violet--he loved no one but me." - -"And he told you so at the masked ball?" - -"Yes. There was to be a masked ball, and both Violet and I were -anxious to go. We made a friend of Eliza and she got us two blue -dominoes. That we might recognize one another we each wore a sprig of -yellow holly. My father was supposed to know nothing about the matter, -but we told a young Oxford cousin of ours. He met us at the ball, and -afterward took Violet away. I found Mr. Vane, and we danced together. -He did not know me at first, but afterward, when we went into a quiet -room, I unmasked. He was vexed at first that I and Violet should come -to the ball unattended, as he said my father would be so angry, which -was quite true. Then he told me that he loved me, and asked me to -become his wife. I accepted, and he kissed me." Miss Bull paused, -moved by an emotion too deep for words. "I was fond of you as a baby, -George, and he--your father, knew I would be a good mother to you." - -"Did he speak of his first wife--of my mother?" - -"Yes. He told me how dearly he had loved her." - -"Did he say where the marriage was celebrated?" - -"No. I never thought to ask him. I always thought there was a -marriage--why should I not?--until I later heard that Lord Derrington -denied that such had taken place. But that was after I came out of the -asylum," added Miss Bull with a troubled air, "so it might be my -fancy." - -"No. It is true. Lord Derrington did deny the marriage; but he now -recognizes that it took place. We wish to find where." - -"I cannot help you, Mr. Brendon. Mr. Vane never mentioned it to me. He -told me that he loved me. Then he went away to get me an ice, and said -he would take me home and return for Violet. I waited, but as he did -not appear I went to look for him. He was gone----" - -"With your sister?" - -"Yes," said Miss Bull, clenching her fists. "Violet overheard a part -of our conversation. She had just come down from the box of the -Marchesa Beltrami----" - -"That was where she unmasked and Mr. Ireland recognized her." - -"She must have seen me with Mr. Vane," continued Miss Bull, taking no -notice of this interruption, "so she stole behind us and heard what we -were to one another. Then she slipped on her mask and followed Mr. -Vane. She said she did not want an ice, but that she desired to go -home at once. Mr. Vane wanted to wait for her----" - -"For Violet?" - -"Yes. He thought that I had run after him, and as Violet wore a blue -domino with the sprig of holly he fancied she was me." - -"I understand. So he took her home." - -"She said he left her at the door, and then came back to look for--for -Violet," said Miss Bull, contemptuously; "she disguised her voice and -he quite thought she was myself. But from what Mr. Ireland said Mr. -Vane saw Violet home to the gates of the hotel. I waited for a time, -and as your father did not come back I ran home alone. Violet was in -our bedroom and said that Mr. Vane had left her at the door of the -ballroom and had gone back for me. Then the next morning we heard of -the murder. I never knew, until you told me, how Violet had managed to -get Mr. Vane away from me." - -"She tricked you," said George, sympathizingly. - -"She tricked every one. When I heard of your father's death I fell -very ill. The world became a blank to me. When I came to myself I was -in an asylum. Then I grew better and was let out. My father died, and -an annuity was allowed to me. I heard about Mrs. Jersey taking this -house, and wishing for some one to talk to about your father I came -here, and here I have been ever since. A lonely woman, Mr. Brendon, -but I find Margery a great comfort." - -"Then you do not know who killed my father?" - -"No." Miss Bull shook her head. "He was struck down on the parade when -returning to the ballroom. It must have been after he saw my sister -home." - -"Do you think Mrs. Ward knows the truth?" - -"She might. Perhaps some one followed, and Violet might have been -mistaken for some person. I know there was a married woman in San Remo -deeply in love with Mr. Vane----" - -"What an attractive man he must have been!" - -"Oh, he was the handsomest man in the world," cried Miss Bull, with -genuine enthusiasm, "and so kind. No wonder Eliza Stokes loved him. -But he loved no one but me--no one but me." - -"What did Eliza Stokes say when she heard of his death?" - -"Oh, she almost went out of her mind! I did altogether," said poor -Miss Bull, with a wan smile; "and as they found her a nuisance in the -hotel she went away. George Rates went also." - -"Did she marry him?" - -"No. I asked her when I met her here as Mrs. Jersey. She said that she -returned to England and that Rates had been run over and killed in the -street. She then went to America and married Mr. Jersey. He died and -left her some money. Then she set up this house." - -"So she said nothing of the annuity from Lord Derrington?" - -"No. It wasn't to her interest to do so. She could hold her tongue -when she liked. We very often quarreled, but on the whole we were as -good friends as two women well could be who had loved the same man." - -George rose to go. "Thank you for telling me so much, Miss Bull," he -said. "What was the name of the woman who loved my father?" - -"Oh, she was a common woman who kept a shop. Velez was the name." - -"Velez," cried George; and added to himself: "So that is how Lola -knows." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE INQUIRY AGENT - - -As George stepped out of the front door he came face to face with -Bawdsey, who was mounting the steps. The man seemed excited, and -carried a carelessly folded newspaper which he had apparently been -reading. He did not seemed pleased to meet Brendon, and looked at him -in a suspicious manner. - -"I didn't expect to see you here!" he said, with a certain degree of -roughness. - -"I did not know that this house was interdicted to me," replied -Brendon, sharply. He liked neither the tone nor the peremptory manner -of Bawdsey, and, moreover, was not prepossessed in his favor by the -report which Lord Derrington had made of the man's duplicity. "I am -glad to meet you, however," continued George, "as I wish to have a few -words." - -"I am too busy to give you any time," retorted Bawdsey, and tried to -enter the house. - -"Nevertheless, you will give me a quarter of an hour," said George, -blocking the doorway with his stalwart form. "What I have to say -cannot be left until a more convenient period." - -"I tell you I am busy, Mr. Brendon." - -"And I tell you that I intend to have this interview," rejoined -Brewton, imperiously. "You talk a great deal about gratitude, Bawdsey, -yet you are unwilling to put yourself out for me in the least degree." - -Bawdsey became penitent at once. "It is true, Mr. Brendon. But I am -very worried." He cast a glance at the newspaper in his hand. -"However, you have first call upon my time, so we will go to my room." - -"That's as it should be." - -No more words passed. Bawdsey mounted the stairs and led George into -the well-remembered room. Brendon took a chair, and Bawdsey, with an -anxious look, threw himself into another. The man's face was flushed, -his red hair was in disorder, and his eyes were bright. As a rule he -was calm and self-controlled, so George conjectured that something -particularly important must have occurred to upset him. However, -Bawdsey's troubles were none of his business, and he began talking at -once of his reason for seeking the interview. "I had a conversation -with Lord Derrington the other evening," he said deliberately, "and we -talked of you." - -"Then you heard no good of me," replied Bawdsey, with a sneer. "Lord -Derrington does not like me." - -"That matters little. No liking can exist between a man in Lord -Derrington's position and his paid servant." - -"Oh, you call me that, do you, sir?" - -"What else are you? Lord Derrington engaged you as his agent to watch -me, and that you have done." - -"Not lately. I have given you a free hand." - -"In any case I have a free hand," said George, loftily. "You were -grateful enough for my service in saving your life to release me from -your espionage, but had you not done so I should have taken means to -put a stop to your dogging my footsteps." - -"You would not have known had I not told you, Mr. Brendon." - -"Oh, yes, I should. In any case, I should have seen my grandfather, -and he would have told me." - -"No, sir. He is your enemy." - -"That is where you are wrong, Bawdsey. He is my friend." - -The detective looked astonished. "Do you mean to say that Lord -Derrington has climbed down?" he demanded incredulously. - -"It is strange, is it not," said George, in a bantering tone, "but, as -a matter of fact, after a long conversation, Lord Derrington and -myself came to understand one another. He intends to recognize me as -his heir." - -"Has he then learnt where the marriage took place?" asked Bawdsey, -starting from his seat, and again glancing anxiously at the newspaper -which lay on a small table at his elbow. - -"No. We have yet to find that out. But he is quite satisfied from the -hints of the late Mrs. Jersey that a marriage did take place, and he -wishes to make amends to me for his unjust conduct as regards my -mother's memory and myself." - -"Whew! What means did you take to force him to recognize you?" - -"I used no force at all," responded Brendon, very dryly. - -"Lord Derrington would not climb down unless he were made to." - -"As a matter of fact he did. The olive branch was held out by him. All -this is none of your business, Mr. Bawdsey, and I only tell it to you -to clear the ground for what I am about to say." - -"It's something disagreeable, I bet," said Bawdsey, scanning the set -face of his visitor. - -"Your penetration does you credit, sir. It is disagreeable." - -Bawdsey settled himself comfortably in his chair. "Then the sooner we -grasp the nettle the sooner will the pain be over," he said, with -quite an Eastern wealth of parable. "But first, Mr. Brendon, I should -like to know your exact position." - -"Oh, that is easily explained, and there is no reason why you should -not know what all London will know soon. Lord Derrington will join -with me in searching for the register of marriage, and meanwhile will -recognize me as his grandson and the heir to his estates." - -"Not a very large income for a future peer," murmured Bawdsey. - -George took no notice of this. "In a fortnight I leave my Kensington -rooms and take up my residence with Lord Derrington in St. Giles -Square. Then I shall assume my real name of George Vane." - -"And you will marry Miss Ward, I suppose." - -"That is entirely my business," said George, placidly. "You will gain -nothing by insolence, Bawdsey." - -The man rose with a wounded air. "Upon my word, Mr. Vane," he said, -giving George his correct name to show that he recognized his new -position, "I have not the slightest intention of being insolent. I am -glad for your sake that things are as they are, and pleased for my -own, since Lola may now give up thoughts of you and turn to me." - -"That's all very well, Bawdsey," said Brendon quietly. "You profess a -great friendship for me, but how can I trust you?" - -"I have never deceived you yet." - -"I have not given you the chance of doing so; but if the opportunity -offered, and it was convenient to you, I am quite sure you would sell -me--as the saying goes--to the highest bidder." - -"Why should you doubt me?" asked Bawdsey, still wounded. - -"I can only judge the future by the past, and since you are quite -ready to play Lord Derrington false----" - -"Who says that?" cried the man, sitting down, but looking defiant. - -"I say so. Lord Derrington has told me all." - -"All what?" demanded Bawdsey, willfully ignorant. - -"All that took place on the night when you came to this house to -impersonate him." - -Bawdsey laughed, and his face cleared. "If that is your disagreeable -business, sir, I can easily put that to rights." - -"Can you explain why you drugged him, why you threatened him?" - -"I did not threaten him." - -"Lord Derrington informed me that you threatened to get him into -trouble. That was why he consulted me, and that is why I have come to -tell you that if you fight Lord Derrington you will fight me also. -Lord Derrington is old, but I am young, and I am quite equal to -dealing with you." - -"I never denied that," said Bawdsey, calmly. "I quite recognize that -you are a strong man, Mr. Vane, although it is not to my interest to -admit as much." - -"That's your business," rejoined George, coolly. "I play with all my -cards on the table. What those are which you have concealed I do not -know, but I am quite prepared to play the game. And at the present -moment you need not call me by my father's name. I have not yet -assumed my position. When I do, George Vane will have nothing to do -with you." - -"But George Brendon has," said Bawdsey, with a flash of his eyes. -"Don't press too hard, Mr. Brendon. I am willing to do you a service, -and you are misjudging me." - -"I am sorry you should think so. Let us cease this bickering. I am -willing to hear what you have to say." - -"If you are satisfied with my explanation, will you endeavor to get -Lola to marry me?" - -"That has nothing to do with me." - -"But you have influence with her." - -"It shall not be used to make her miserable. I know nothing about you -save what my grandfather told me, and his report does not bias me in -your favor. For all I know you might make poor Lola the worst husband -in the world." - -Bawdsey shrugged his shoulders. "Lola is well able to look after -herself," he said. "I think I mentioned that before. But if you are -satisfied with what I am about to tell you, will you help me?" - -"I'll do my best," said George, impatiently. "Lola is sure to lose -this engagement sooner or later through her vile temper. I do not want -to see her on the streets again, and she may as well be supported by -you in a respectable manner as by any one else. Besides, as you truly -say, she can take care of her own skin. But I shall not advise her to -marry you unless you prove to me that you did not intend to blackmail -Lord Derrington." - -"Nothing was further from my thoughts," said Bawdsey, earnestly; "it -was to my interest that your grandfather should hold his tongue about -my having been to this house----" - -"He would not have known had you not told him voluntarily." - -"Oh, yes, he would have discovered in some way. I thought it best to -be on the right side by confessing voluntarily what I had done. I said -I could get him into trouble--and I admit that I did threaten him so -far--simply to make him hold his tongue." - -"You were afraid lest you should be accused of the crime?" - -Bawdsey looked at George in surprise. "That possibility never crossed -my mind," he replied calmly. "I certainly did not kill the woman. Do -you think I did, Mr. Brendon?" - -George shrugged his shoulders. "Going by circumstantial evidence----" - -"Oh!" Bawdsey flipped away that objection with a snap of his fingers, -"that's all right; I will explain. No, Mr. Brendon; why I wished Lord -Derrington to be silent was that I might carry out my plans so as to -learn who killed Mrs. Jersey." - -"Then you are looking after the case?" - -"On behalf of Lord Derrington. He has an idea that the assassin became -possessed of a confession which Mrs. Jersey left behind her----" - -"How do you know she left it?" - -"Because I knew Mrs. Jersey very well, and, as I told you long since, -I was once a boarder here. One day she let slip that she had some one -in her power, and would leave the evidence of that power behind her so -that her niece might benefit. I told this to Lord Derrington. He -insisted that I should try and discover the assassin so as to get that -confession, which compromises him, back again. To spur me on he has -promised me a reward of a thousand pounds should I obtain the -confession and the conviction of the assassin. As I want money to -marry Lola, I am doing my best. I came to live here for that purpose. -Lord Derrington talking of my visit to the house on the night of the -crime would have jeopardized my plans therefore I was obliged--as you -say--to threaten him so as to make him keep silent. So far, do you -blame me, Mr. Brendon?" - -"No," replied George, after some thought, "the end justifies the -means. But you might have adopted less rascally means." - -"I have not adopted any. I have not asked Lord Derrington for money, -so I am not a blackmailer; nor do I intend to claim from him anything -but what is justly mine." - -"And what is justly yours, if you please?" - -"The reward of one thousand pounds for the discovery of the assassin." - -"Oh! Have you learned who killed her?" - -"Not yet, but I may learn. At present I confess I am in fault." - -George pondered a little. So far Bawdsey spoke frankly enough; but he -could not help mistrusting him. However, since the man was in the -telling vein, he thought it best to betray no doubts lest Bawdsey -should turn rusty. "Well, the discovery is in your own hands," he -said, "and I sincerely trust you will gain that thousand pounds. I am -as unwilling as my grandfather that Mrs. Jersey's connection with this -unfortunate business should become public. I am perfectly convinced -that the person who took that confession stabbed the unfortunate -woman." - -"Do you think so?" asked Bawdsey, stealing a glance at the newspaper. - -George nodded. "The confession was written. I learned that much from -Margery. Mrs. Jersey told her it was a story. Well, as the confession -was not found among Mrs. Jersey's papers when she died, it must have -been taken by someone. But I can't think what interest such a thing -can have had for any one unless----" - -"Unless what, Mr. Brendon?" - -"Unless it contained the name of the person who assassinated my -father." - -"How could Mrs. Jersey know that?" - -"She was at San Remo when my father was killed; she loved him and she -used to follow him. How I learned these things, Bawdsey, does not -matter. But it is just possible that Mrs. Jersey--or Eliza Stokes as -she was then--might have some knowledge of who committed the crime. If -that was set down in her confession (as is highly probable), I can -quite understand that the original assassin killed her to gain a -dangerous document such as it undoubtedly was." - -"Then you think that the assassin of your father was also the assassin -of Mrs. Jersey?" - -"I fancy so, as I can explain the disappearance of the confession in -no other way. And if I remember rightly, Bawdsey, it was you who said -that the San Remo crime was connected with the one committed in this -house." - -"I did say so," replied Bawdsey, thoughtfully. He pondered for a few -minutes and then looked up briskly. "Well, Mr. Brendon, that point -cannot be settled without proof, and there is no use our wasting time -in indulging in vain speculations. Let me tell you about the night I -went to see Mrs. Jersey." - -"Go on," said Brendon, crossing his legs. "I am all attention." - -"I knew before your grandfather came to see me that you were about to -pass the night here. Lola told me." - -"Yes, I was foolish enough to tell her; though, to be sure, I had no -great reason to conceal my visit to Train. I never knew that a murder -would take place. So Lola told you?" - -Bawdsey nodded. "She did. But I never intended to bother about the -matter, as I did not think there was anything in your visit. But Lord -Derrington came and put a different complexion on the affair. It was -his belief that you intended to force Mrs. Jersey into confessing -about the marriage." - -"I came to appeal to her," said Brendon, dryly. "There was no thought -of forcing in my mind." - -"Lord Derrington judged you by himself and thought there might be. I -rather agreed with him. Then, knowing his temper, I fancied if he went -to see Mrs. Jersey there would be a row and a scandal, and I did not -want that to happen. I was making a very good thing out of Lord -Derrington," admitted Bawdsey, frankly, "and if a scandal had taken -place my occupation would have been gone. I therefore determined to -drug him and to go myself." - -"But why in his coat?" - -"I thought that Mrs. Jersey might not admit me." - -George pounced upon him at once. "There was no need that she should do -so. You took the latch-key my grandfather carried." - -"Oh, you know that, do you?" said Bawdsey, composedly. "Then I may as -well be absolutely frank." - -"It is your best course." - -"Oh, I'm not on my trial, Mr. Brendon. It is only my friendship for -you that is making me speak out." - -"I accept that excuse. Go on." - -Bawdsey shrugged his shoulders to show his annoyance at the -uncompromising attitude of his visitor. "I feared lest Mrs. Jersey -should order me out of the house unless I could gain time by being -mistaken for Lord Derrington. I drugged the old gentleman, and then, -taking his coat and the latch-key, I went to see Mrs. Jersey." - -"At what time were you there?" - -"Some time before twelve. I cannot say for certain. Well, Mr. Brendon, -I let myself in with the latch-key, and I found the house by the red -light over the door. In former years it had been my custom to guide -myself in that way. I told Lola so." - -"Why did you tell her that?" - -"Oh, she knew that you were going late to the house and made a fuss -about the chance of your being lost in the fog. I said that probably -Train would tell you of the red light, and that you could guide -yourself by that." - -"Humph. Lola was always unnecessarily kind," said George. "Well?" - -"Well, I closed the door softly and went into the sitting-room." - -"You knew where that was?" - -"Of course. Don't I tell you I once lived in this house? I entered the -sitting-room. The lamp was burning, and Mrs. Jersey was seated at the -table." Bawdsey shuddered. "There is no need to tell you more. I left -the room at once, for the sight horrified me." - -"Why did you pause in the hall?" - -"I thought I heard a footstep on the stairs, and the shock gave me one -of my fits--the fear of open spaces, you know. How did you come to -learn that I paused in the hall?" - -"Because I had come down the stairs to see who was with Mrs. Jersey." - -"Ah! Then it must have been your footstep I heard," said the -detective. "Well, I soon recovered, and left the house." - -"What about the stiletto?" - -"It was lying on the floor near the table. I saw it glittering in the -lamplight. As there was blood on it and I saw the wound, I knew that -Mrs. Jersey had been killed by it. I slipped it into my pocket with a -vague idea that thereby I might trace the assassin." - -"Did you leave it purposely in the coat?" - -"No," said Bawdsey, frankly. "I did not. I was so moved and--as a -woman would say--flustered by the death, that I forgot all about it. -Lord Derrington woke up and went home. I said nothing about the murder -to him at the time. I had not the nerve. It was only after he departed -that I remembered the stiletto. I thought he might make a row and -accuse me of the crime. But he said nothing, and I judged it wise to -let sleeping dogs lie. So that is all I can tell you, Mr. Brendon, and -you will see that I am not such a bad man as you try to make out." - -"Oh, you have spoken clearly enough," said George. Then after a pause, -"Yes, I think you are honest, so far as I can judge. I trust you." - -Bawdsey looked delighted. "Will you have a glass of wine with me to -show that?" he asked rising. - -"On the Arab principle of bread and salt?" said Brendon. "Certainly." - -Bawdsey nodded in a pleased manner, and went to his sideboard at the -end of the room. George mechanically took up the newspaper. His eyes -were caught by a cross-heading--"Strange Affair in an Essex Church," -and by the words "destruction of the registers." Just as he was about -to glance over the article, never thinking what it meant to him, -Bawdsey returned with the wine and two glasses. He uttered an -exclamation of dismay when he saw the paper in George's hand. - -"Hang it, I never meant you to see that!" he said. - -"Why not?" replied George. "Is it this news about a lady trying to -tear the registers?" He started and looked at Bawdsey, who was uneasy -and pale. "It's Lola!" said George. - -"No, and yet--why should you not know? I believe it is Lola, though no -name is mentioned." - -George picked up the paper again and read rapidly. No name was -mentioned, as it was said that the strange lady who had been arrested -refused to give any name. It seemed that she went to Wargrove Church -and asked to see the registers for a certain year--the registers of -marriage. The sexton took the fee and showed the books. Then it -appeared that the strange lady searched for an hour. The sexton left -the vestry for a few minutes. When he returned he saw that she had -torn a page out of the book. Being taken by surprise she had tried to -conceal her theft, but the sexton seized her, rescued the torn page, -and called for assistance. The end of it was that the strange -lady--who was described as having a foreign air--was arrested and -placed in prison. "It is Lola," said George, breathlessly. - -"Yes," assented Bawdsey, also pale. "She evidently tried to destroy -the evidence of your mother's marriage." - -George gave a cry. "Wargrove," he said, "Wargrove in Essex. It -was in the parish church that the marriage took place. And Lola -knew--Lola----" he paused. The eyes of the two men met. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE TROUBLE OF LOLA - - -It was four o'clock when George left Bawdsey. The two had spoken -little of the newspaper paragraph which informed them of Lola's -escapade. Although her name was not mentioned there was no doubt in -the mind of Brendon that she was the culprit. The newspaper gave the -year of the book when the sheet was torn, and that corresponded to the -year when Percy Vane married--or had been supposed to marry--Rosina -Lockwood. And this was the explanation of Lola's absence from town. -She had not fled from the rebuke of Brendon, but had gone to do him an -injury by destroying the evidence of his parents' marriage. This -finally was the meaning of her wild threat to Dorothy. By preventing -George from proving his legitimacy, Lola hoped to put a final end to -his chance of making Miss Ward his wife. - -Bawdsey was much upset over the news. He would have flown immediately -to Wargrove, but some special business kept him in town. However, he -purposed to go the next morning by the first train. Bawdsey did not -think that Brendon had sufficient interest in Lola to go down to -Wargrove at once. But George was going that very day, all the same. -Lola could not have known that his parents had been married at -Wargrove without having seen Mrs. Jersey's confession wherein the fact -was probably mentioned.. Therefore she must have obtained the -confession in some way. How she achieved this, George could not -conjecture. Then he thought of Lola's hot Spanish blood, of the -stiletto--a peculiarly foreign weapon--and shuddered. It occurred to -him that Lola herself must have stabbed the woman. - -However, he put this thought aside for the moment and set about -getting to Wargrove. On consulting an A. B. C. he found that a train -left Liverpool Street Station for Southend at ten minutes past five, -and that Wargrove was a tiny rural town which could be reached in an -hour. Ever quick and expeditious in his movements, George had entered -a Strand shop to buy the railway guide, and, having ascertained about -the train, he simply stepped into his cab and ordered the man to drive -to Liverpool Street. At the appointed time he was on his way down the -country. - -This precipitancy of action was due to a dread lest Bawdsey should -change his mind and see Lola, first. Certainly the detective had -spoken frankly, and his conduct appeared to be dictated by sentiments -of honor. Nevertheless, George felt that Bawdsey was playing a part -and that this apparent honesty was not his real character. It behooved -him to be on his guard against him; and to know as much about the -death of Mrs. Jersey as Bawdsey did, so as to able to counterplot him -if necessary. From the fact that she was in Wargrove, Lola evidently -had possession of the confession. If Bawdsey saw her he would -doubtless try and get it from her, to learn the name of Percy Vane's -assassin. George wished therefore to forestall Bawdsey, and to make -Lola surrender the confession--always presuming she had it--to -himself. For this reason he departed quickly for Wargrove. At the -Liverpool Street Station he examined all the passengers as they -entered the train. Bawdsey did not put in an appearance, and as the -next train would not depart for another two hours George felt that he -had stolen a march on the detective. Bawdsey would never think that he -had acted with such promptitude. - -It was a dull journey, as Brendon was worried by a commercial traveler -who would talk politics. George put him off as civilly as possible, -and finally turned his prattle--for it was little else--to his own -advantage by asking for the whereabouts of Wargrove. It seemed that -the new town of Wargrove was the place where the train stopped, but -Old Wargrove was three miles distant, and it was there that the parish -church was situated. The commercial traveler followed up this -information with many details concerning the manners and customs of -the natives, which bored George to distraction. However, he listened -quietly, and paid as little attention as was consistent with -politeness. His officious companion watched for the station, and -roared out the name when the train stopped. George thanked him and -alighted, glad to be relieved of such a weary talker. And till the -train was moving the man leaned out of the window shouting directions -as to the best way to reach Old Wargrove. - -As it proved there was no necessity for George to go there. Lola was -stopping in the policeman's house prior to her removal to the prison -at Chelmsford. Her attempt at robbery had been committed on the -previous day, and Brendon thought she would have already been removed. -However, he was informed that there was some delay owing to the -illness of the Chelmsford inspector, and therefore Lola would have to -remain in Wargrove for another twelve hours. Brendon was glad to hear -this, as it would save him a long journey. He thanked the policeman -who had explained, and was directed by the man to the house of his -superior officer, which was on the outskirts of the town. George soon -found a semi-detached house with a notice on it, and on knocking at -the door explained his errand to a brisk little woman. She pursed up -her lips, looked inquisitively at him with bright eyes, and called her -husband. The policeman was a burly, slow-witted, fat man who seemed -nervous on being asked for a sight of the prisoner, for such Lola was -to all intents and purposes. He did not want to exceed his duty. -George produced a sovereign, but the official, although his eyes -twinkled, hesitated to take the bribe. It was then that Mrs. Policeman -came to Brendon's assistance. - -"Nonsense, Jeremiah," she said briskly. "Let the young gentleman see -his young lady. She's dying to have a sight of him." - -"How do you know that she is my young lady?" asked George. - -Mrs. Policeman nodded with her arms akimbo. "Why she's been crying out -in that foreign way of hers for George--George----" - -"That is my name certainly." - -"And you are her gentleman. She told me what you were like, and cried -all the time, poor soul. Tall, fair, with eyes of blue." - -"It's all very well," grumbled Jeremiah. "But 'tis against the law." - -"You can be present at our interview if you like." - -"There, Jeremiah, you can't have the gentleman saying fairer than -that." Here the sharp little woman nudged her husband's arms. This was -a hint for him to swallow his scruples and take the sovereign. -Jeremiah agreed, and shortly the sovereign was in his pocket and he -was leading George to a back upstairs room. - -"We'd have put her in the best parlor," he said, "as I always like to -make 'em comfortable. But she'd have run away, so we was obliged to -keep her in the room with the bars on the window." - -"Poor Lola," thought George, as he conjured up the small stuffy room -and the barred window. - -But the room was not so comfortless as Jeremiah stated, thanks to Mrs. -Policeman. It was small, certainly, but it was neatly furnished as a -bed-sitting-room. The window was certainly barred, but there was no -other sign that it was a prison cell. Before introducing George to -this abode, it struck Jeremiah that the prisoner had been inquired for -as "the young lady." He stopped Brendon at the door. "Might you know -her name, sir?" - -"Of course I know it," replied George, promptly. "Don't you?" - -"Now I do," said Jeremiah, with a heavy nod, "but it was a rare time -afore she'd speak. My missus got it out of her. Loler Veal it is, she -says, and she's by way of being on the stage." - -"She is the most celebrated dancer in London, and her name is Lola -Velez," said George. "I don't suppose she'll be punished much for -this. She's mad at times." - -"Oh, if she's mad she'll get off lightly, but them parish register to -be torn--it's bad work that. My father were a sexton," explained -Jeremiah, soberly. - -"And naturally you think Mademoiselle Velez has committed the most -atrocious of crimes. But don't stand chattering here, my good fellow. -I have to return by the nine train." - -"I'll wait outside," said Jeremiah, on whom Brendon's generosity and -peremptory manner had made an impression, "but you won't give her -poison, or knives, or that, sir?" - -George laughed. "No. She is the last person to use them if I did -supply her with such articles." - -"She's a lively young woman," said the policeman, and slowly unlocked -the door. George was admitted, and then Jeremiah, so as to give the -lovers--as he thought them--an opportunity of meeting unobserved, -retired, locking the door after him. Lola and George were together. - -She was seated by the window staring out into the darkness. On the -table was a small lamp, and a fire burned in the grate. Lola started -up when the door closed again. "Who is--who is?" she asked in her -rapid way, and came toward him. - -"Lola," began George, but he got no further. She ran forward and flung -herself with tears at his feet, clutching his legs and wailing: - -"Oh, my dear one, hast thou come in anger? Trample me, make me as -earth, beloved, but be not enraged--ah, no--ah, no!" - -"Lola. Get up and don't be a fool," said Brendon, speaking roughly to -brace her nerves. - -She rose, sobbing, and crept to a chair in a slinking manner, quite -unlike her usual free grace. She did not raise her eyes, and George -was pained to see the change. Badly as she had acted, he felt sorry at -beholding her depressed, and like a sick beast in confinement. - -"Lola," he said, taking a chair near her, "I have come as your -friend." - -"Not in anger--ah, but yes, in anger." - -"I am not angry. I am very sorry." - -"Ah, but in your eyes--they sparkle. I see Mees Vards. I do try to -steal the church books. You are furiously enraged." - -"Look at me and see." - -But Lola would not, so George took her chin and made her gaze directly -into his eyes. Lola's were filled with tears, but after a time she -began to smile. "Ah, you are not enraged, it was for you I did it. I -wish my dear George to myself--all--all." - -"You know that is impossible." - -"But it is not. I will have you." - -"Not at all," said George, deliberately. "You will marry Bawdsey." - -"That pig--cow, horrible and miserable. _Non. Ah, non!_" She sprang -to her feet. "_Jamais. Ah grand jamais!_ I do swear," and producing a -small black crucifix from her dress she kissed it vehemently. - -She was a most impossible person to deal with, being as wild as a -tigress and as impulsive as a child. George made her resume her seat, -and drew his chair close to her. Much delighted, Lola took his hand -within her own and looked at him affectionately. Brendon did not like -the position at all, but it was necessary to humor Lola if he wished -to arrive at the truth. He spoke to her very directly. - -"Now, Lola, I wish you to tell me the truth." - -"Ah, but I will. When you are kindness I tell you all." - -"Do you know that you have done a wrong thing?" - -"Pschutt," she said contemptuously. "I give that old mans knocks on -the heads, but he is alive. Oh, yes, I did not kill him. - -"I don't mean the assault, though that is bad enough. But your trying -to destroy the register of the marriage. - -"It is your fault," cried Lola, impetuously. "For loves of my George I -did so. I wish you not to marry any but me." - -"We can talk of that later, Lola. Answer me a few questions, and make -no remarks." - -"I will do what you say, my friend," said Lola, nodding. George -thought for a moment. "How did you learn that Wargrove was the place -where my parents were married?" - -"I tell not that--indeed, I will not. It is my businesses." - -"Mine also. You must tell." - -"But I will not." - -"For my sake, Lola." - -"Ah, you want to know all, and then trick me. I will not tell." - -"Then I will explain to you." - -"Aha, you cannots--you know nothings at all. Pah! La, la, la, la." - -George spoke sternly. "Lola, I know more than you give me credit for. -I have seen the dagger." - -This time he struck home, for she started. "What dagger?" - -"The stiletto you left in Mrs. Jersey's room." - -"I did nothings. I was not there." - -"Yes you were. For all I know you may have killed the woman." - -"But it is foolish you talk, George. I did not. She was -frightened--oh, very much afraid." - -"So much that she gave you the confession you asked for?" - -"Ah, yes--yes--yes," cried Lola, then seeing she had betrayed herself, -she began to be alarmed. "Ah, you will say nothing. I would not tell -anys but my George. He loves me. He will not see me dead." - -"Good heavens, Lola, did you kill the woman?" - -"That fat ladys in black silk? Ah, no, I did not. But she was so -afraid of the knife." - -"You left her alive on that night?" - -"Why, yes, my George. We part--oh, such good friends." Lola blew a -kiss from her finger-tips. "She quite pleased, immense!" - -"Well, Lola, as you have told so much, you must tell me all." - -"There is nothing to say," she replied, turning sullen. - -George rose. "Then I shall go away," he declared. "I came here to be -your friend, Lola, and to save you from getting into further trouble. -But if you will not be candid--" He moved to the door. - -"What is candids? I know not, George." She sprang to her feet. "Ah, my -heart, do not go. Soul of my soul, leave me not. I will do anythings -what you ask of me." - -"Then tell me the whole story of your visit to Mrs. Jersey." - -"But you will marry Mees Vard!" - -"I do that in any case. See here, Lola," he added artfully, "this -marriage register which you wish to destroy does not matter now. My -grandfather has acknowledged me as his heir." - -She looked at him with wide eyes and pale cheeks. "And you will be -milor--you will marry Mees Vard--you will--you will--" Her mouth began -to work piteously like a child being reproved. - -"I will always be your friend, Lola!" - -"You will marry Mees Vard?" she persisted. - -"Lola," he took her hand, "if we married we would never be happy. I -and you are different people. Do you wish to see me happy?" - -"Ah, yes--if I die I would have you happy," she sobbed. - -"Then allow me to marry Miss Ward, and give me up." - -"Ah, but it is asking much--always too much." - -"Well," said George, a trifle cruelly, "you offered to die for me just -now, yet to see me happy you won't deny yourself anything." - -"Yes--yes--but it is all so quick, my dear. Give times--oh, give times -till I become used." She sobbed for a moment, then dried her eyes and -sat down briskly. "I am ready, my George. You shall be happy, but you -must not forget poor Lola--ah, no!" - -"Of course not," replied George, patting her hand. "Now tell me the -story. Wait. Was it you mother who told you of my father's death?" - -"Yes," assented Lola. "She often talked of your fathers," - -"I heard she was in love with him," said George, slowly. - -Lola shrugged her shapely shoulders. "That I know not. My dear mother -was handsome--oh, yes, and dark, and fond of gayness. She might have -loved--eh--it is not impossibles." - -"Did she ever hint who killed my father?" - -Lola shook her head. "No. Never did she say anythings. He was found -dead--stabbed--" she made a gesture, "that was all--all!" - -Evidently she could tell him nothing, so George reverted to more -immediate matters. "How about that night? You knew that I was going to -Mrs. Jersey's on that night?" - -"Ah, but yes. You did tell me." - -"Then what made you come also? Was it to see me?" - -Lola put her finger in her mouth and looked down. "No, my George. I -did want that confessions of the fat old lady, to stop you being -milor, and then I thought you would marry only poor Lola." - -"How did you know about the confession?" - -"That pig-man told me." - -"Bawdsey? Why did he tell you?" - -"Pschutt!" said Lola, contemptuously. "He loves me so, I can twist and -twist him so," she made a rapid motion with her fingers. "We did talk -of the death of your fathers. I lamented that my poor mother did loves -your fathers unhappily, as I did love you. And I was enraged to think -that your fathers had died. I did ask Bawdsey who made the stab--gave -the death?--eh, it is, so I asked," she added, nodding. "He could not -say, but he declares that Mrs.--what you call her--eh, but my friend, -Mrs.----" - -"Mrs. Jersey. Bawdsey declared that she knew?" Lola nodded. "It was -so," she assented. "Mrs.--what you call that fat ladys--she write out -all she know,--of your father's death and of his marriages. I say to -myself that I would get that confession and learn where the marriage -was made. Then I would burn the book that no one might learn. After I -would say to you, that I could tell who killed your father if you made -me madame your wife." - -"That's a very pretty plot," said Brendon, not knowing whether to be -angry with her wrong-doing or touched by a love that to gain him would -not hesitate to commit a crime. "So far you have carried it out. You -have the confession----" - -Lola put her hand on her breast. "He is here," she said, nodding. "I -carries him always--always!" - -"Give it to me, Lola." - -Her eyes opened in wide alarm. "Ah, no, you will not ask me. I keep -him to myself all." - -George saw that the moment was not propitious. But he was determined -to get the confession before he left her. However, he begged her to -continue her story. "How did you know the house?" he asked. - -"It was the scarlet windows----" - -"I remember. Bawdsey gave you that for guide." - -"Bah! He knew not I was going," said Lola with a shrug. "I got out of -him the fool-man all that I did want. I thought I would get to the fat -ladys on the night you were with her, that I might have you for helps -if she was enraged." - -"It seems to me that you protected yourself very well." - -"With the daggers--oh, yes. I said to myself that if my George did not -come for the fogs, that Mrs.--what you say--Jarsey, oh, yes, would be -enraged, and I would have trouble. I took the stiletto to save -myself." - -"How did you get into the house?" - -"Wait, ah, wait! I did not dance all that night. I said I was ill and -I came aways. I took the daggers and a cloak, and I went to the -Square--it is not far from my houses----" - -"No. You just turn the corner of the street," said Brendon. "Well?" - -"I walked by the walls. It was after ten o'clocks. I walk round and -round the Squares, and I then see a red lights. The door open--it was -open, and many people came out of the houses. The fat lady was on the -steps waving her hands--so--" Lola waved her hand. "A crowd was -around. I came into the crowd, and when the fat lady was down shaking -with the handshake, I did slip into the house." - -"That was clever of you," said George, wondering at the dexterity with -which Lola had managed to enter without exciting suspicion. "And then -what did you do? Did you meet any one?" - -"Ah, but no. I ran into a place; there was a room with a light, and -that I did go into----" - -"Mrs. Jersey's sitting-room," murmured George. "Yes?" - -"I was afraid to be thrown out, my dear, and I hided behind a curtain -of the window. The fat lady she did come in and close the door. She -talked to herself of Lord Derrington coming, and did seem enraged at -him wishing to come--you understand?" - -"Yes. What then?" - -"A leetle boy did come in with wine and cakes. She did send him away, -being angry, and did close the door. She took from a box----" - -"A green box, Lola?" - -"Yes, a green box--she did take a blue--what you, call--paper." - -"A blue envelope?" - -"Ah, yes, it is so, and she looked at a paper--a white paper she took -from the envelope. She laughed, and said that milor would love to have -this. I say to myself behind the curtains: It is the confessions, I -will have it. Then she did put it in the envelopes and leave it on the -tables. It was near me. I could steal----" - -"And you did!" said George, impatiently. - -"But no, my George. I did try, and madame she saw my arm. With a cry -she leap to the doors. I come out and, say that I wish to talk of the -deaths of Monsieur Vanes. She turns most white, and did not cry no -more. Then she ask me what I want----" - -"You needn't tell all in detail, Lola. Be as short as possible." - -"Oh, well--but yes, assuredly. I told madame I was of San Remo, and -did talk of my dear mother, and of her love for Monsieur Vane. But -this pig-womans insult my mother. I become enraged, I bring my dagger -and wave it so--" again Lola made a dramatic gesture. "I say that I -kill her. She fall on her knees and hide her face. Then I did take the -confessions out of the blue envelopes and hide it----" - -"That was very clever of you, Lola. Did Mrs. Jersey see?" - -"Ah, but no she did not. I take it when she was with the eyes covered. -Then having all what I was desired, and seeing her so afraid, I had -the contempt look you. I say, 'There, there,' and I throw the dagger -at her feets. Then I go to the door and say I would depart. She beg me -to stop. I did stop, and we talk of San Remo, and of my mother. I say -that you were my love, and that Monsieur Vane was the father of -you----" - -"Then she knew who I was on that night?" - -"Ah, yes, but she did. I say you wish to see her the next day. She -say, 'I will tell him nothing, and now go, for I have to see a great -gentlemans.' I was quite happy." - -"Did she not miss the confession?" - -"No! I said nothing of wanting that. It was in my pocket. The blue -envelope was on the table. She never thought but what it was within, -Then she ask me to say nothing to any one about San Remo, and we part -quite happy. She allowed me out of the door, and closed it again, oh, -so softly. I saw her no more." - -"You left the dagger behind?" - -"It was on the floors where I threw it. I wished to get away with the -confessions, lest she should call me thieves. I did not wait for to -take the dagger. I departed. That is all." - -"Humph!" said George. The story seemed likely enough. After letting -Lola out of the house, Mrs. Jersey then came to see if he and Train -were in bed. Expecting Lord Derrington, and knowing from Lola who he -was, she no doubt expected George to interrupt the interview. But -finding him--as she thought in bed--she departed satisfied. Then she -met Margery, and after locking her in her room, went down to meet her -death. It was eleven when all this happened, and Bawdsey in the coat -of Lord Derrington arrived close upon twelve. Therefore, as Lola left -Mrs. Jersey alive and Bawdsey found her dead, she must have been -killed in the interval, and whomsoever had done this had used the -dagger left by Lola. - -However, George had learned all he wished to know in the mean time, -and it only remained to get the confession from Lola. She refused to -give it up. George entreated, cajoled, stormed, insisted, she still -held out. "No, I will not, I will not," she kept saying. - -Finally he hit on a solution of the difficulty. "If you do not give it -to me it will be taken from you when you go to prison." - -"Ah, but will it?" cried Lola, wide-eyed with alarm. - -"Certainly, and will probably be published in the papers. Keep it if -you like, Lola, but don't blame me if you get into trouble over it. I -assure you if you keep it they will take it." - -Lola pulled a white packet from her breast, and ran with it to the -fire. "They will not have it. I burn--I burn," and she threw the -papers on the fire. George shot past her, snatched them out before -they could catch alight, and thrust them into his pocket. Lola turned -on him like a tigress, and he thought she would strike him. She seemed -inclined to do so. Then unexpectedly she threw up her arms and fell -into a chair weeping. "It is the end--you love me no more--we part--we -part. The confessions will part us, all--all, alas!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE CONFESSION OF A JEALOUS WOMAN - - -George returned to town with the confession of Mrs. Jersey in his -pocket. On arriving at the Liverpool Street Station he wrote a note to -Kowlaski telling him of Lola's plight, and advising him to engage -counsel for her defense. He added that he would come around the next -day to see Kowlaski and discuss what could be done toward extricating -Lola from the mess she had involved herself in. Having thus done what -he could, Brendon took the underground railway to Kensington, and -alighted at the High Street Station. In another half-hour he was in -his rooms. - -After making a good meal, for he felt the need of food to sustain him, -he ordered coffee, and sat down to read the manuscript of Mrs. Jersey. -The coffee was brought, George lighted his pipe, and having poked the -fire into a blaze, made himself comfortable. - -The confession of the wretched woman who had come to so tragic an end, -was written on several sheets of foolscap loosely pinned together. Her -caligraphy was vile, and George had great difficulty in making out -some of the words. Also the English was not faultless, but good -grammar and fine writing were scarcely to be expected from a woman in -the position of Eliza Stokes. - -But she wrote in a most cold-blooded way, and seemingly exulting in -her wickedness. All through her confession ran a venomous strain of -deadly hatred toward George's mother, and indeed against any woman who -paid attention to Vane. Jenny Howard was not spared, and the woman -Velez, "who kept an oil-shop," sneered Mrs. Jersey, was mentioned. -When Brendon discovered that Mrs. Jersey had Italian blood in her -veins he saw perfectly well whence she got her savage nature and -undisciplined affections. She was like a wild beast let loose among -more civilized animals, and the wonder was that with such a nature she -had not committed more crimes than those she confessed to. The woman -was a dangerous creature, and Brendon when he laid down the manuscript -thought it just as well that she had been removed even by the violent -means which Providence permitted. - -"My parents were of humble station," began Mrs. Jersey, abruptly. "I -believe my mother was a lady's maid. She married my supposed father, -who was a butler. I say 'my supposed father' as I have reason to -believe that I was the daughter of a certain Italian count who had -loved and betrayed my mother. In her moments of rage my mother would -taunt my supposed father with this, but when calm she always denied -that there was any truth. When I grew old enough to understand she -rebuked me for asking about the matter. 'You are my daughter,' she -said abruptly, 'and the daughter of Samuel Stokes, who is the biggest -fool and the greatest craven I know.' - -"It will be seen that there was no love lost between my parents. My -father Stokes--as I may call him, though I believe the count was my -real sire--was always very kind to me, and shielded me from my -mother's rage. She treated me very cruelly, and when fifteen I was -glad to go out as a scullery-maid so as to escape her persecution. -Shortly after I took up life on my own account she died in a fit of -violent rage, during which she broke a blood-vessel. I think Stokes -was glad when she died. She made his life a misery when she lived, and -tormented every one around her. If I have faults, it is not to be -expected that I could inherit a decent nature from such a mother. I -never loved her, and when she died I did not shed a single tear. I -remember singing at my work on the day I received the news. One of my -fellow-servants asked me why I was so gay? I replied that I had heard -of my mother's death. After that they hated me, and I had to leave my -situation. But had any one of them possessed such a mother, any one of -them would have been as gay and relieved as I was. So much for my -mother. - -"As for my presumed father Stokes, I saw very little of him. He -retired from business and bought a public-house. Then he married -again, and was not inclined to see much of me. I did not mind, as I -never loved him in spite of his kindness. I dare say I should have -returned his affection, but my mother had beaten all love out of me. - -"It is needless to give my early life in detail. I rose from -scullery-maid to housemaid. Then I became parlor-maid in a suburban -villa, where the wages were poor and the food was bad. I took charge -of children when not doing housework, and managed to get on. But I was -ambitious. I wished to get among the servants of the aristocracy. A -friend of mine who was maid to the Duchess of--taught me her duties, -and I procured a situation. I pleased my mistress, and she promised to -do much for me. However, she died, and I was thrown on the world. I -saw an advertisement for a lady's maid, and got the situation. It was -in this way that I became the servant of that woman whom I hated so -deeply. - -"She was called Rosina Lockwood, and was no better born than myself. -Her father was a low man who taught singing, and she appeared herself -on the stage. I never thought she was beautiful, myself. She had good -hair, and her complexion was passable, but her figure was bad, and she -had no brains. An inane, silly, foolish woman. How Percy Vane could -have eloped with her beats me. But men are such fools. He would not -look at me, yet I was ten times as lovely as this singing-woman, and -quite as well born. Oh, how I hated her! - -"At first I rather liked Miss Lockwood. She was kind to me in her -silly way, and the gentlemen who were in love with her gave me plenty -of money to deliver notes and other things. There was one gentleman -who was the best of them all--and the biggest fool over her blue eyes -and fair hair. His name was Ireland, and he had plenty of money. He -came to learn singing from old Lockwood simply to be near her, and -proposed three times, to my knowledge. But she would have nothing to -do with him, which was foolish, as he had money, and she could have -twisted him round her finger. Why he loved her so and what he saw in -her I can't say. She had nothing attractive about her, so far as I -could see. - -"I was a handsome girl in those days, though I say it myself. But if a -woman is good-looking, why shouldn't she say so? I had a perfect -figure, and a complexion like cream and roses. My hair was as black as -night, and my eyes were sparkling and large. I taught myself to read -and write, and I learned French. Also I learned to play the piano, and -to conduct myself like a lady, as I always was. I often dreamed that I -would marry a gentleman, and I could have done so but that my foolish -heart was captured by the only man who would have nothing to do with -it, or with me. - -"I never loved till I set eyes on him. There was a footman who wanted -to marry me; to join our savings and set up in a public-house. But I -told him I was born for better things. Then a coachman asked me to be -his wife, but I hated a man who had to do with horses. Oh, I had -plenty of offers, as a handsome girl should. But I knew my own value, -and looked about for the gentleman who would give me my rightful -position as a lady. From my Italian father I inherited aristocratic -tastes, and I was not going to remain a low, vulgar common servant all -my life, not me. - -"Then he came to the house. Oh, my adored one, my idol, my angel, how -magnificent and beautiful thou wast. Percy was his dear name, and his -blood was very blue. Lord Derrington was his father, a most -aristocratic nobleman, who was an old brute, from my experience of -him. But he was of high rank I don't deny, and Percy had the blood of -heroes in his veins. He came to take lessons in singing. But after a -time I saw that he was in love with my mistress. Afterward I found out -that he had seen her at a concert and had fallen in love with her. I -don't believe it. Who could have loved that bad figure and that silly -brain? Now a woman like myself--but he never cared for me, although I -adored him from the first time I set eyes on his manly form. It was -her arts that captured him, else he would have turned from her to me. -But he never did. - -"How handsome and fascinating was my hero Percy Vane. Fair hair and -blue eyes, and the figure of a Life-Guardsman--just the kind of man I -liked. He was kind to me--for her sake, I suppose--and gave me money -and presents. She said she loved him, and used to make me sick with -talking of him. I let her think I was her dear friend, as if she had -known my true feelings she would have sent me away, and then I would -never have seen my hero again. I made the best of my position, for at -least I saw him as often as she did, and that was something. They both -looked on me as their friend. Had they only known how I hated her, and -loved him! - -"Lord Derrington was angry with Percy for loving my mistress, and I -don't wonder at it, a low singing-woman. Percy had some money of his -own, inherited from his mother, and he proposed an elopement. He said -that Lord Derrington could not leave the estates away from him, and -that some day he would come in for the title. She never lived to be -Lady Derrington. I was glad of that. I should have killed her had she -reached that pitch of splendor. Her position should have been mine. -But it never was. - -"Well, they eloped. After singing at a concert in St. James's Hall, he -met her outside, and took her to Liverpool Street Station. I was -waiting there with the luggage. We went down to a place called -Wargrove, in Essex, and the very next day they were married in the -church of that parish. I was furious, but what could I do? Had I told -Lord Derrington, he might have stopped the marriage, but Percy would -never have forgiven me, and I did not wish to lose sight of him. As -Mrs. Vane's maid, I had chances of seeing him daily, and of basking in -the light of his eyes. It was weak of me, but I loved him so dearly -that I would have done anything simply to be in his presence. But I -wish now that I had prevented the marriage. Since I could not get him, -I didn't see why she should bear off the prize. But I was a girl then, -and sentimental and foolish. And she was a cat, as she always was. - -"Afterward we went to Paris, and from that place Percy wrote to tell -his grandfather that he was married. I know he did not mention the -place, for the letter was given to me to post, and I opened it. I -never gave it a thought at the moment, but afterward Percy's mistake -in not telling where the marriage had taken place did me a lot of -good. I should not now be writing in this house, but for that lucky -omission. Lord Derrington would have nothing to do with his son, and -there was trouble with Mr. Lockwood. - -"But I don't think they minded much. Percy was wrapped up in the -creature, and she loved him in her silly simpering way. I pretended to -be quite happy, but I inwardly was raging all the time. For his sake I -put up with the unpleasant position, and I never received my reward, -never, never, never. Oh, how some women's hearts are broken by the -cruelty and neglect of men. - -"I lived with the two of them during their married life. A son was -born, and she died. I was glad when she died, and I was sorry she left -the boy. Percy was wrapped up in the child, and gave him to me to -nurse. Mrs. Vane was buried in Père la Chaise, and then Percy, with -myself and the baby, went to Monte Carlo. He gambled there in order to -forget his grief--though I don't see what he had to moan over, seeing -what a silly fool his late wife was. Percy lost money, and wrote to -his father, who declined to help him. Then he went to Italy and -wandered about. Now that he was free I hoped to marry him. When not -nursing that horrid child--he was called George after his maternal -grandfather, and was a scrubby little beast. Some said he was a fine -child. I could not see it, myself. He was her child, and that was -enough to make me hate him as I did. But as I say, when not nursing -him, I devoted myself to study so as to be worthy of the time when -Percy would marry me. I knew that the future Lady Derrington would -hold a high rank, and I qualified myself to fill the position -gracefully. I did work. I learned arithmetic, and could write -beautifully. I talked Italian and French like a native. I got an old -artist to teach me to paint in water-colors, and I bought a book which -taught the manners of good society. Also I tried to dress well, and do -my hair becomingly. Percy saw the change in me, and congratulated me -on the improvement which had taken place in me since leaving England. -Had he only known that it was for his sake I had improved! - -"As to that child, I should have liked to drown it, or to have given -it to gypsies. As Lady Derrington, I did not wish to be troubled with -her brat. Besides, Percy loved the boy so, that he used to make me -envious the way he nursed him. But had I got rid of the child--and I -thought of a thousand safe ways I could have done so--I should only -have been sent away, and then some woman would have got hold of him. I -thought it best to bear with my aching pain and put up with the child -so that I might be near to watch over Percy. - -"The end of it came in Milan. We were stopping at the Hôtel de Ville, -and there was a waiter who fell in love with me. He was an English -boy, called George Rates--a horrid, scrubby, red-haired, nasty, -pale-faced creature, who worried me to death. Besides, he was younger -than I was, and I wished for a husband to protect me. I should have -had to look after George Rates, whereas Percy, in the days to come, -would look after me. Besides, I felt that it was an impertinence for a -low waiter to expect me to marry him--me, who had done so much to -improve myself, and who looked forward to taking proud rank among the -British aristocracy. - -"At first I laughed at him, but he became such a nuisance that I told -him plainly that I would have nothing to do with him. He then accused -me of being in love with my master. I acknowledged it proudly. Why -should I not? A woman should glory in her love. I did! I told George -Rates that I worshiped the very ground Percy walked on; I gave my -passionate feelings full vent, and bore him to the ground under the -storm of my indignation. He told the other servants, and they insulted -me, especially the English ones, as there were two or three in the -hotel. I was persecuted, but I bore all for his dear sake. Then it -came to his ears. Percy heard what I had said to George Rates. He -called me in: he accused me of making him ridiculous, of being out of -my mind, of a thousand and one cruel things. I lost my head. I told -him how I loved him. I knelt at his feet. I implored that he would -reward my love--my long, long sufferings. He laughed in my tearful -face. At that moment I hated him, but not for long. My life was bound -up in his. When he dismissed me, I thought that my heart was broken. - -"I was dismissed. He procured a new nurse from England--a Scotch -hussy, as ugly as she was silly. I saw her often in Milan after my -dismissal. Oh, that time--oh, those weary days! I wept. I prayed. I -moaned. I was a wreck. With what money I had I went to a convent near -Milan, and stopped there for a month. But I could not remain away from -him. I came out. He was gone. I went to inquire at the hotel. He had -gone to Rome. Afterward a message came that all letters were to be -sent to San Remo. I determined to go to San Remo, and to be near him. -I would have died else. George Rates, who was still in love with me, -proved a willing tool. I could not get to San Remo without money. He -offered to advance me the railway fare, and he got me a situation in -the Hôtel d'Angleterre as housemaid. He also was going there for the -season as a waiter. I said that if he took me to San Remo I would -marry him. He did so, and I--but that comes later. Sufficient it is to -say that George believed in my promise, and that I found myself again -in the presence--the heavenly presence--of my adored Percy. - -"But I had only come to submit myself to fresh anguish. He saw me, but -took no notice of me. I was afraid to follow him too closely lest he -should ask the police to interfere. George Rates was jealous, too, and -I had to consider him, as, failing Percy rewarding my love I could -fall back on George. He was always useful to supply the money for me -to get back to England, where I was certain of a situation. I handled -the situation in a masterly manner, and contrived to see Percy without -his seeing me, and without exciting too openly the jealousy of George -Rates. - -"But it was the horrid girl that caused me pain. She was one of the -daughters of General Howard, whom Percy had met at Como. The two girls -both laid themselves out to catch my darling. But their arts did not -succeed at Como. Jenny was the one who tried hardest to get him, but -Violet took her chance also. When they came to San Remo they stopped -at the Hôtel d'Angleterre. I looked after their room, and, knowing -what they were, I made myself their friend. They knew me as the former -nurse of Percy's horrid, little son, and wondered how I came to be a -housemaid. I told some story which satisfied them. I forget what it -was. They believed in me thoroughly, and they found out that I loved -Percy. Then they were amused, and I hated them for it. They told Percy -that I was watching him, and he came to the hotel no more. But I still -pretended to be their friend, for my own ends. There was a masked ball -coming off, and the Miss Howards wished to go unbeknown to their -father. I entered into the spirit of the joke. I procured them two -blue dominoes and each a sprig of yellow holly, so that they might -know one another. They went to the ball thus disguised. - -"I went also--in the same dress. I had got a third blue domino and I -also wore a sprig of holly. In my pocket I took a stiletto. Why did I -do that? Because I was determined to kill any one who tried to make -love to my Percy. I knew that Jenny Howard, the little cat, would try -and get him to love her, and I would have killed her with pleasure had -she become Percy's bride. As I was masked, I had no fear of being -discovered should I stab any one, and, moreover, were there trouble, -the Miss Howards, being dressed as I was, even to the sprig of yellow -holly, might be accused of any crime that might happen. Moreover, even -if I killed Jenny I knew that the two sisters quarreled, and that on -the evidence of the holly and the domino Violet might be charged with -the crime. Oh, I made myself quite safe! I am a clever woman. - -"About the stiletto. I received that from a low shopkeeper called -Velez, who was in love with Percy. She and her husband kept an oil-shop, -and her husband was very jealous of her. She was madly in love -with Percy, as I found out when buying something at her shop, and I -got to know her intimately, so that I could make use of her if the -occasion arose. I did make use of her, by getting the stiletto, and I -took it to the ball. - -"I heard Percy propose to marry Jenny, and I was minded then to kill -her. I drew the stiletto from my breast, and would have rushed -forward, hoping to escape in the confusion when I killed her. But my -heart failed me; even when she was left alone my heart failed me. -Jenny took off her mask, and I left her sitting waiting for Percy's -return. Then I followed Percy and saw Violet join him. I knew it was -Violet, owing to the unmasking of Jenny, and, moreover, I had seen -Violet listening, as I was. She loved him also--the cat! However, I -saw that she wanted to get Percy out of the place by making him think -she was Jenny. She did. I followed. He took her home to the gates of -the hotel and left her there. When he was coming back to the ball I -stopped him at the bottom of the parade. There was no one in sight, it -was late, and a clear moon was shining. - -"Percy thought I was Violet, whom he mistook for her sister. He -addressed me in such endearing tones as Jenny, and remonstrated so -gently about what he called the rashness of following him from the -hotel, that I lost my temper. I snatched off the mask and poured -out my wrath. Percy burst out laughing when he recognized me. He -said--never mind what he said--but it was an insult, and my Italian -blood boiled in my veins. I drew the stiletto and rushed on him. At -that moment my hand was caught from behind, and I fell. It was that -man Ireland, who was then at San Remo, and a great friend of Percy's. -He had wrenched the stiletto out of my hand. For a moment no one said -anything, and I arose to my feet. Ireland addressed me as Miss -Howard--Miss Violet Howard. Percy laughed again and corrected his -mistake, saying that I was a love-sick nursemaid whom he had -discharged. Then I lost my temper. - -"Stop! I must say exactly how it happened. Percy was leaning against -the parapet of the parade in a careless attitude. He did not even move -when I rushed on him with the stiletto, and had Ireland not caught my -arm, I should have killed him. Ireland said that he had followed -me--thinking I was Violet Howard--to ask me to return to the hotel. He -talked some rubbish about a gentle-born English girl being out at -night; but when he found that I was only a servant there was no more -of that talk. Poor Eliza Stokes could have been out till dawn for all -these gentlemen cared. They laughed at me, Percy leaning against the -parapet, Ireland beside me, holding the stiletto carelessly in his -hand. As I said, I lost my temper, and I told Percy what I thought of -that fool Rosina Lockwood. He lost his temper also, but that only made -me more angry. At last he dashed forward, and I believe he would have -struck me but that Mr. Ireland intervened. I don't know exactly how it -happened, but, in moving, Mr. Ireland evidently forgot how he held the -stiletto, and put out his hand with the weapon pointing outward. In -rushing on me, Percy came against it, and it ran right into his heart. -With a choking cry he fell dead. I was terrified, and began to wring -my hands. Ireland knelt down and found that Percy was dead. He seized -my wrist and told me to hold my tongue lest I should be accused of the -death. I said it was his fault. He replied it was an accident. But I -had got the stiletto, I had tried to kill Percy, and Ireland declared -that if I said anything that he would denounce me as the criminal. I -was terrified as I saw the danger in which I was placed. Ireland -suggested that we should throw the body over the parapet on to the -beach, and that it would be thought robbers had killed Percy. I -agreed, and we threw the body of my darling over. Oh, how my heart -ached when I heard it fall on the cruel, cruel stones. - -"With Ireland I arranged to hold my tongue, and on his part he -promised he would say nothing. The next day the news of the discovery -of the body came. I was nearly out of my mind. Señora Velez, from whom -I had borrowed the stiletto, knowing of my love for Percy, and being -in love with him herself, accused me of the crime. I denied it, and -said that if she did not hold her tongue I would tell her husband how -she had loved Percy. She was afraid of her husband, who was a jealous -brute, so she remained quiet. I gave her back the stiletto, which I -had obtained from Ireland. We were both safe, but I was so ill that I -left the hotel and returned to England. George Rates, who never -suspected my share in the death, followed----" - -It was at this point that George ceased reading. He now knew the -worst. His father had died by accident, and Ireland had been the -unwitting cause of his death. Brendon wondered how the old man could -have carried the knowledge all these years without speaking. He -determined to have an interview with him. But at last he knew the -truth about the death in San Remo. It inculpated no one, and he could -not see how--according to Bawdsey--it could be connected with the -murder of Mrs. Jersey. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -WHO BAWDSEY WAS - - -George read the remainder of Mrs. Jersey's confession and then put it -away. Even when he got to the end he could not connect the San Remo -crime with that of Amelia Square. It was in his mind to see his -grandfather and tell the story to him, backed by the production of the -confession. But on second thought he decided to see Bawdsey first. He -wired for an appointment, and received a reply stating that Bawdsey -was going out of town at three o'clock that day, but would be in his -rooms till then. George lost no time. He called a cab, and within an -hour of receiving the answer to his request he was on his way to -Bloomsbury. - -On arriving he found that the detective expected him, and went to his -room. Bawdsey was still in a disturbed state, as he was most anxious -to get down the country and to help Lola out of her difficulty. He -received Brendon irritably and in silence. George saw that the man was -all nerves, and did not resent his sharp greeting. He sat down and -opened the conversation. - -"You are going down to see Lola?" he asked. - -"Of course. I am much worried over her. She may get into serious -trouble over this freak." - -"Well, why not tell the judge she is insane at times? Then she will -get off lightly." - -"Would that be true?" asked the detective, struck by the idea. - -"As true as most things. She really is not accountable for her -actions when she gets into these frenzies, and in such a one she must -have been to attempt the burglary." - -"Poor soul, I wonder how she is now?" - -"Oh, she is not troubled much. Her spirits are as good as usual. She -hardly seems to realize the enormity of her offense." - -"How do you know?" asked Bawdsey with a stare. - -"Because I saw her last night." - -"You saw her?" - -"I did. After I left you I took the train to Wargrove and had an -interview with her." - -"You might have told me, Mr. Brendon," said Bawdsey, in a wounded -tone. - -"Where would have been the use of that? I can manage my own business, -I hope." - -"Considering how I love her, it is my business also." - -George shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you see, Bawdsey, it was your -intention to see Lola first. I guessed as much, so I stole a march on -you." - -Bawdsey fenced. "I don't see how you can say that." - -"I can. You know that Lola was in this house on the night the woman -died." - -"I presume so, since she got the confession, and she must have secured -it to know where your parents were married." - -"Well, then, knowing that, you wished to get that confession." - -"Yes, I did," said the detective, "and why not? I desired to know if -Mrs. Jersey said anything about the San Remo crime in it." - -"I can tell you that. She did. I have the confession." - -Bawdsey bounded from his chair. "Where is it?" he asked. - -"In my rooms, locked away." - -"I do call that a shame," grumbled Bawdsey. "You might have trusted -me, Mr. Brendon?" - -"Might I? Would you have trusted me?" - -"I do; you know I do." - -"To such an extent as suits yourself. But would you have shown me that -confession had it come into your possession?" - -"You are not showing it to me," said Bawdsey, evasively. - -"That is not an answer. But I'll show you the confession whenever you -like. Come, now, would you have shown it to me?" - -"Since you have read it, why ask me that question?" snapped the -detective. "You know----" - -"Yes, I know that you would have burnt the confession. I know that to -have a paper in existence which sets forth that Mr. Bawdsey's true -name is George Rates is not to your liking." - -"I never did anything to disgrace that name, Mr. Brendon." - -"That is between yourself and your conscience," replied George, -coolly, "and has nothing to do with me. You are George Rates?" - -Bawdsey shrugged his shoulders. "There is no use denying it," he said; -"you have my wife's handwriting." - -"Was Mrs. Jersey really your wife?" - -"She was. We married soon after we left San Remo. She was hard up or -she would not have married me." - -"And you went to the States?" - -"We did. There I took the name of Jersey, and tried a variety of -things, none of which came to any good. Then I left Eliza." - -"Why did you do that?" - -"Because she was a devil," said Bawdsey, his face lighting up. "I -tried all the means in my power to make her happy, but she was always -quarreling and nagging, and lamenting that she had not married that -Vane--your father, Mr. Brendon." - -"Did she tell you about the murder?" - -"It wasn't a murder," protested Bawdsey. "No, she did not tell me, but -from a hint or two she dropped about getting money from Mr. Ireland I -guessed that he had something to do with it. I came across to England -and I saw him. He told me the whole story." - -"Did you get money from him?" - -"I did not. I am an honest man, although you do not seem to think so. -I left all that blackmailing to my wife. She came over to get money -out of Ireland. He simply said that he would tell the whole truth and -would call the woman Velez as a witness about the dagger." - -"But that woman is dead?" - -"Oh, no, she isn't," said Bawdsey, coolly. "Lola told me that she was -alive and still in San Remo. She could have made things very hot for -my wife. But failing Ireland, my wife--Mrs. Jersey we will call -her--had another string to her bow. She heard how Lord Derrington -denied the marriage, and how you were living with your grandfather -Lockwood. She went to Derrington and----" - -"I know the rest. And you came to live in this house." - -"Not at the time. I went back to the States, but as I could do nothing -there I returned to England. Then I took up the private-inquiry -business and called myself Bawdsey. I came to see my wife. She would -not let me call myself her husband, and, as I had no great liking for -her, I agreed. I was in this house for a few weeks and then I got my -own diggings. I saw as little of Mrs. Jersey as was possible." - -"Why was that?" - -"Well, sir," replied Bawdsey, frankly, "I didn't hold with the annuity -she was getting." - -"In a word, you disapproved of the blackmail?" - -"That's a good, useful word, sir," said Bawdsey, easily. "Yes, I did. -I never would take a penny from her, and when I lived here during the -few weeks I paid my board. Yes, sir, I'm an honest man." - -George stretched out his hand and shook that of Bawdsey heartily. "I -am convinced you are, Bawdsey, and I apologize for my suspicions. But -in some ways--eh?" - -"I didn't act very straight, you mean. Well, sir, when one deals with -a criminal case one can't be too careful. I have had to tell lies, -sir. And I say, Mr. Brendon," cried the detective, with a burst of -confidence, "I would not have shown you that agreement. I guessed that -Eliza would state who I was, and I didn't wish you to think that I was -connected with her." - -"Why not?" - -"Well, sir, I fancied, seeing what you know, that you might suspect me -of killing her." - -"No, Bawdsey. As you have acted so fairly all through, I am convinced -that you are innocent on that score. But why did you say that the San -Remo crime was connected with the death of Mrs. Jersey?" - -Bawdsey opened his eyes. "Can't you see, sir? The stiletto." - -"Oh, you mean that the weapon used by Lola was the same one as my -father was killed with?" - -"Certainly, Mr. Brendon. It belonged to Señora Velez, the mother. She -gave it to Lola, for I saw it in her rooms, before the death of Mrs. -Jersey, and I recognized it from the description given by my wife." - -"But there are dozens of stilettoes like that one. Lord Derrington -showed it to me." - -"Yes, that's true enough. But you see, from what my wife told me, I -knew that she had got the dagger from the woman Velez. It wasn't hard -to see, when I dropped across a similar weapon in the room of a woman -also called Velez, that it was the same. Now you see how it is that -Lola knew so much about the death of your father, and how she and I -came to talk of the matter." - -"How did you drop on the subject in the first place?" - -"The name was enough for me. I saw Lola, and I fell in love with her, -as you know. Then I remembered the name Velez and got an introduction -to her. One thing led to another until I knew the whole story, and she -admitted that the stiletto was the one with which Mr. Vane had been -killed." - -George thought for a few minutes. "Tell me, Bawdsey," he said at -length, "did you suspect Lola of committing the crime?" - -"Yes, I did," admitted Bawdsey, frankly; "you see she has a devil of a -temper. I never knew that she had gone to see Mrs. Jersey on that -night, although I might have guessed it because of the way she tried -to learn the whereabouts of the house." - -"You mean the crimson light? Her excuse was foolish I thought the -other day when you stated it," said George. "But when did you first -suspect her?" - -"When I picked up the stiletto. I recognized it at once. It was my -intention to take it round to her, so that she should not be -incriminated, but I was so upset--as I said the other day--that I -forgot all about the matter. When I did think, it was too late, for -Derrington woke up and put on his coat. I wondered whether he would -mention the stiletto to me. But he never did." - -"Because he knew nothing about it," said George. "Mrs. Ward stole it, -as I told you." - -"Oh, I see how it is now. But I really did suspect Lola. I asked her -if she was in the house. She said that she had been, although she -denied it at first." - -"That's Lola's way," said George; "she always begins by denial. How -did you bring her to confess?" - -"I threatened to identify the stiletto. Then she told the truth--if it -was the truth," said Bawdsey, doubtfully. - -"Oh, I think so. I don't believe she killed the woman." - -"But you know her temper?" - -"Yes, I do, but since she has got what she wanted--the -confession--there was no sense in her committing a murder. No, I quite -believe that she threw the dagger at Mrs. Jersey's feet, as she said. -It is just like one of Lola's impulsive actions." - -Bawdsey scratched his head. "I wonder who did kill Eliza," he -muttered, "if Lola is innocent and I am innocent?" He looked at -Brendon. - -"I can't help you," replied George, rising; "the thing is quite beyond -me. It must have been some one in the house." - -"No," replied Bawdsey, positively; "remember, Mr. Train heard a door -close--the front door--some time about half-past eleven." - -"That was you, was it not?" - -"No sir. I did not arrive till close on twelve, and Mrs. Jersey was -already dead. The door must have been opened and closed by the -murderer, and he left just before I arrived." - -"But how could he have entered? You alone had the latch-key. As to -Lola, she slipped in while Mrs. Jersey was dismissing her guests." - -Bawdsey shook his head. "I can't understand it, sir. Of course there -was another gentleman who had the house for a short time." He looked -meaningly at Brendon. - -George looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked. - -"Well, sir," began Bawdsey, with his invariable formula, "I don't like -to mention names, and I am sure what I say will go no further, but -there is Mr. Ireland----" - -Brendon started to his feet with an agitated face. "Ireland! Oh, no, -that is impossible," he declared, "quite impossible! Why should he -have a latch-key?" - -"After your grandfather's death he was in possession of the house for -a time, and the keys would be with him. In handing them to Lord -Derrington's agent he might have forgotten one." - -"It's improbable!" - -"I don't think so. It was a chance, I think, at first, but when he -knew that Mrs. Jersey occupied the house he might have found the -latch-key useful to see her when he felt inclined. I dare say she -tried to get money out of him again." - -"But he refused her." - -"He did--once," said Bawdsey, meaningly, "but Mr. Ireland was not so -young as he had been, and dreaded lest his--accident should be known." - -"It was an accident," said George. "Much as I deplore the death of my -father, yet I acquit Ireland of all blame. But he didn't know she -lived here until Miss Bull told him." - -"Oh, yes, he did. I'm sure Mrs. Jersey would let him know that she was -just round the corner. She always kept in touch with useful friends." - -"But why should he kill her so suddenly?" - -"Well, he might have heard that she had written out a confession, or -even about Lord Derrington's visit. And then he would come round to -ask her if she had incriminated him in her confession. He would ask -her for a sight of it. Not having it, for she found the blue envelope -empty after Lola left, she would deny that she had it. The stiletto -left by Lola would be on the table. What was more natural than for -Ireland to pick it up and kill her in a sudden access of dread? -Remember, Mrs. Jersey could accuse him of the crime, as it was known -that Ireland was jealous of your mother's marriage to Vane. Oh, there -was plenty of motive. As to his having refused her before, he was -getting old, and thinking he might be brought to justice by her -confession, for he never knew when she would die or into whose hands -it would fall, he might have lost his nerve." - -"It strikes me that if he struck the blow he had a great deal of -nerve," said George, dryly; "but you go on a lot of suppositions. You -suppose that Ireland retained a latch-key of this house, that he knew -Mrs. Jersey had written out a confession, that he knew my grandfather -was coming on that night--in fact, that's all theory, Bawdsey. I do -not believe Mr. Ireland had anything to do with the matter." - -"Then who had?" asked the detective. - -"What would you say to Margery?" - -"What, the niece--that half-witted girl?" - -"Exactly. Half-witted. She is more like an animal than anything human. -She gets these sudden fits of rage. When Miss Bull fainted Margery -rushed in and threatened me with her fists. Seeing what an -uncontrollable temper she had, it occurred to me that she might have -killed her aunt." - -"But Miss Bull says that the aunt locked the girl in her room." - -"Of course, but Miss Bull may know the truth, and may be shielding -Margery--she seems to have a strange affection for the girl. What if -Mrs. Jersey--to vary the story--found Margery down the stairs after -Lola was gone, and instead of rebuking her as Miss Bull said in the -passage----" - -"At eleven o'clock, mind." - -"Later, I think," said George, quickly. "You did not arrive till -nearly twelve, and the woman was just dead." - -"I don't think a few minutes would make much difference," said -Bawdsey, quietly, "but go on, sir. Let me hear your theory." - -"Well, I fancy that Mrs. Jersey caught Margery down the stairs, and -took her into her own room to rebuke her quietly, so that the rest of -the house might not hear. Also she would be anxious to learn if the -girl had overheard her conversation with Lola. If Margery had, she -would assuredly have told Miss Bull. Mrs. Jersey would be afraid of -that, and I dare say she stormed at Margery to make her speak." - -"But there could have been no row, sir. No one heard a disturbance." - -"Oh, the boarders are old and sleep lightly. But I am bound to say I -did not hear a disturbance myself," said George, reflectively. "Mrs. -Jersey may have argued quietly. Then, as you say, the stiletto was on -the table. Margery, goaded into action, might, with the sudden rage of -a dumb animal, might have----" - -"Well, it's not impossible. But about the door closing?" - -"When Margery saw what she had done," pursued George, still trying to -guess what had taken place, "her first impulse would be to run away. -She would steal out and open the door. I am pretty sure Miss Bull was -on the watch and saw her. She would draw the girl back and close the -door--at half-past eleven, as Train heard. Then she would pacify -Margery and lock her in her bedroom, after previously instructing her -what to say next morning. That is what I believe, Bawdsey." - -"It's a very pretty case," murmured the detective, "and things might -have happened as you say. But if it is the case, there is not much -chance of learning the truth. Both Margery and Miss Bull will be -silent. And after all, my theory regarding Ireland is just as good, -Mr. Brendon." - -George rose to go. "Stick to your theory and I'll stick to mine," he -said, smiling. "But what about Lola?" - -"Well, sir, I'll go down with Kowlaski and see her. We will do -whatever we can to get her out of her trouble. And you, sir----" - -"Oh, I shall have nothing more to do with Lola. Take her away to the -States as your wife, Bawdsey, and I will get my grandfather to give -you the thousand pounds to start life on." - -"It's very good of you, sir," said Bawdsey, gratefully. "And you will -try and persuade her to marry me?" - -"Yes. She knows--as I told her--that, register or no register, my -grandfather intends to recognize me as his heir. Therefore she is -certain--as she may well be--that I shall marry Miss Ward. She will -gradually get over her fancy for me and will be quite content to take -you." - -Bawdsey sighed. "I hope so. I love that woman, sir." - -"Yet she is a violent woman--almost as violent as your first wife." - -"Yes," assented Bawdsey, rather dolefully, "it seems as though I was -always to fall into the hands of violent women. What do you intend to -do now, sir?" - -"Leave matters alone, Bawdsey. I don't want to learn who killed Mrs. -Jersey. Now I know about my father's marriage I shall change my name, -take my rightful one, and have done with all this crime and mystery. -The Yellow Holly can go hang, for me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -THE TURNING OF THE LANE - - -The proverb says that "Good luck comes to those who know how to wait." -It had certainly come to George Brendon, or, as he was now called, -George Vane. Lord Derrington could not make enough of him. After the -interview with Bawdsey the young man called at St. Giles Square and -related to his grandfather all he had learned. The old man was much -astonished. - -"I don't think Ireland was to blame," he said, "not even in holding -his tongue. After all, the thing was an accident, although undoubtedly -that woman was the cause. Have you seen Ireland?" - -"Not yet, but I will soon." - -"Then tell him from me that I don't consider he was responsible, and -that I quite believe from what I know of Mrs. Jersey that he has told -the entire truth." - -"I will, sir," answered George. "I suppose you mean that if he really -committed the crime with malice aforethought Mrs. Jersey would have -blackmailed him." - -Lord Derrington nodded approvingly. "You are what the Scotch call -'quick in the uptake,' George. That is what I mean. Mrs. Jersey must -have been afraid for herself or she would never have kept her claws -off Ireland's money. She had plenty of mine," added the old gentleman, -grimly. "Bad lot, George!" - -"I quite agree with you, sir. Poor Bawdsey was honest, however." - -"Well--" Lord Derrington did not assent immediately to this--"if -Bawdsey had been really honest he would have asked me to be silent on -the matter, and need not have used threats, however unwilling he was -to carry them out. No, George, Bawdsey is like the serpent in the -bamboo, straight so long as it is kept in check. I suppose he will -marry the girl?" - -"I think so. He is madly in love with her. I promised that you would -give him a thousand pounds if he went to America." - -"The deuce you did!" said Derrington, wrathfully. - -"Why not, sir?" rejoined Brendon, calmly. "We want him out of our -lives. He knows too much. Better send him abroad, so that he may not -make any remark about this unpleasant family history." - -Lord Derrington winced. George certainly had rather an unpleasant way -of putting things. However, the old man silently acknowledged the -justice of the speech. "You are right," he said. "But Bawdsey ought to -do something for his money." - -"You mean that he ought to discover the assassin?" - -"Yes, I do. Whosoever killed that woman should be brought to justice, -George." - -Brendon looked down. "I think it will be best to let sleeping dogs -lie, sir," he said significantly. - -"Because of some scandal," said Derrington, looking hard at him. "Are -you alluding to the possibility of Mrs. Ward having killed her?" - -At this supposition George laughed right out. "No, sir. I don't think -Mrs. Ward would go so far as that." - -"She would, were there no law to restrain her." - -"I dare say. She has the instincts of a female despot. But as there is -a law she would not jeopardize her neck. No, I mean Ireland." - -Derrington sat up. "Nonsense! Do you mean to say he is guilty?" - -"I don't think so, but Bawdsey has an idea," and George related the -theory of the detective. Derrington grunted in a disgusted manner. - -"The man's a born idiot," he said. "Why should Ireland run the risk of -getting his neck into a noose for a second crime? If he thought that -she would leave a confession behind inculpating him, he would have -waited to make certain. I don't believe there is a word of truth in -the matter. However, when you see him, you can question him about his -doings on that night." - -"I shall certainly do that," replied Brendon, quietly, "but failing -Ireland (and his guilt is presumed by Bawdsey) there remains Margery." - -"That idiot of a girl! Yes?" - -George detailed his reasons for believing in Margery's guilt. Again -Derrington sniffed. "It's all supposition. If the girl came into the -room, if the stiletto were on the table, if Mrs. Jersey scolded her -into a fury. Pah! I don't believe it." - -"And you really wish to find the assassin?" - -"I should like to know, out of mere curiosity. But if it is your -opinion that things should be left as they are, why, Bawdsey can take -his thousand pounds and sail for America whenever he chooses. But I -grudge setting the rascal up in business," added Derrington who was -still sore about the way in which he had been threatened. - -After this conversation George took his leave. Dorothy was out of -town, so he could not visit her. After the interview with Ireland in -Derrington's library, Mrs. Ward had found it convenient to go down the -country. She felt that she was in an unpleasant position. Not that -there was any danger of her being accused of murdering Vane. But if -the police got hold of the story they might make inquiries--in fact, -they certainly would make inquiries--and then the disagreeable fact -would come out that Miss Bull was her sister. Mrs. Ward knew that she -had not behaved well to Jenny, and that if the truth were known her -friends would blame her. - -As Mrs. Ward did not like blame, and disliked to have her actions -criticised, she went down the country, saying to Dorothy she desired a -change of air. Lord Derrington wrote a note to Mrs. Ward after George -had departed. - -"I'll ask her to come up," said Derrington, grimly, as he sealed the -letter. "George will return in three days with the copy of the -marriage certificate and with news of how that case has been disposed -of. Mrs. Ward shall apologize to him and formally consent to the -marriage. Dorothy shall come also. And Walter"--Derrington rubbed his -hands, chuckling. He was rather anxious to see Walter's face when he -heard that he was no longer the heir. - -Meantime George went with Kowlaski and Bawdsey to Chelmsford to see -after Lola. Kowlaski was in despair, as if Lola received a term of -imprisonment his ballet would be brought to an untimely end. Now that -Lola was out of the bill, the hall was not so full as usual, and -Kowlaski foresaw that if Lola did not come back he would lose money. -He therefore went down prepared to spend a large sum to set her free. - -But there was no need for fear. Lola was brought up before the -magistrates, and evidence was given as to her excitable nature. The -old sexton produced the torn register and detailed how he had been -assaulted. He thought the lady was queer, himself. Kowlaski went into -the box, also Bawdsey and George. The result of their evidence as to -Lola's foreign ways was that the magistrate admonished her and -inflicted a small fine. This was triumphantly paid by Kowlaski, who -returned to town with his principal dancer under his jealous eye. - -More than that, Kowlaski made quite a story out of the events. It was -known in London that Lola Velez had been arrested, as all the London -papers copied the account of the trial which had appeared in the -country press. Kowlaski put it about that Lola had gone off her head -owing to grief for her dying mother. Few people believed this, but the -public was so pleased to see the favorite again that she was saluted -with cheers. In a few days every one forgot about the matter, which, -after all, did not amount to much. - -Luckily it was not stated why Lola had wished to destroy the register. -There were several marriage entries on the page, and no one could say -which of these she wished obliterated. Besides, Brendon got the -magistrate to suppress the book, and not let the press report the -matter. He accomplished this by telling the magistrate exactly how the -matter stood. So the judicial authority used his power, and the fourth -estate quailed. Everything was settled in a most satisfactory manner. - -Later on Brendon had copies made of the marriage entry of Percy Vane, -Bachelor, and Rosina Lockwood, Spinster, and brought them to his -grandfather. The old man read them carefully, then laid down the paper -with a sigh of relief. - -"I never thought I would be pleased to see that in black and white," -he said. - -"And are you pleased now?" - -"Of course I am. You are to revive the glories of the Derrington Vane -family. They have faded of late, but you, sir----" He clapped his -grandson on the back, and George laughed at the old man's enthusiasm. - -"There is one strange thing," he said after a pause. "Seeing that my -parents were married so near London I cannot understand how the -marriage was not discovered before." - -Derrington looked thoughtful also. "It is strange," he admitted, "but -you remember the tale of Poe's Purloined Letter. People always look in -the most unlikely places first, and because the church was so near to -town and nobody had replied to the advertisement, they--the searchers, -I mean--must have thought that the marriage took place in some -moorland parish where people never looked at the journals. It was the -very closeness of Wargrove church to London, George, that prevented -the certificate being discovered sooner." - -"I suppose you are right," said Brendon, "but it does seem strange." - -"Everything in life is strange," said Derrington, "and not the least -strange thing is that I kick out Walter to make room for you. By the -way, George, he will be here soon." - -"Have you told him?" - -"Yes, and he wants to see you about the matter. I said that he could -in my presence. What he has to say I don't know. There is another -reason for your remaining, George. Mrs. Ward and her daughter are -coming here." - -"She won't be pleased to see me," said Brendon. - -"Oh, I think she will. After Ireland put her in a corner she grew -afraid, and now she would like to see the matter settled at any price. -When she is your mother-in-law, George, keep her out of your house or -there will be trouble." - -"You must stand sentinel, sir. She won't come near me then." - -"Egad, that's true. She is afraid of me. I hold that stiletto, you -see, and I know about her doings at San Remo. The minx!" said -Derrington with great vigor. "I wonder that her daughter is so -charming." - -"So good, you mean," said George, fondly, whereat Derrington gave a -sigh. - -"Oh, love--love, and again--love," said he. "It seems I am going to -have a most sentimental time with you two." - -"Be at rest, sir. Neither Dorothy nor I am sentimental. We are too -serious for that." - -"That's worse. I hate serious lovers." - -"Then we will be gay," said George, with a laugh. - -"Don't overdo it," replied Derrington, with a kindly smile; "be as you -are, both of you, and I shall not complain. Ah, here is Walter! Well, -my boy, have you come to see your new cousin?" - -Walter Vane entered the library with an injured air. He looked neater -and more fragile than ever, and wonderfully old, considering his -years. Derrington looked from him to the fine figure of George, with a -queer look in his eyes. "No one would ever take you for relatives," he -said. - -"Why, they say we are like one another," said Walter. "Mrs. Ward -remarked on the likeness when we dined with her. I wondered why we -should resemble one another, but it is explained now," and Walter cast -a not unkindly look in his cousin's direction. - -Derrington snarled. "George is like me, and you take after your -father, Walter, who was a shrimp if ever there was one." - -George hastened to the rescue of his cousin. "It seems to me that the -conversation is getting somewhat personal," he remarked. "Walter, I -hope you bear me no grudge for stepping into your shoes." - -Walter took the hand in his own limp grasp. "Well, of course it is -hard on a fellow," he answered in a rather whining manner, "but you -and I got on well together, so I would rather it was you than another -fellow. That Train friend of yours, for instance. He's such a cad!" - -"But a very good fellow for all that," said Brendon, dryly. - -"Oh, people always say that of a fellow who has nothing to recommend -him," retorted Walter; "but as you are to be the head of the family I -am glad you are not a bounder." - -"That's very kind of you," said George, dryly. - -"And very silly of Walter," growled the grandfather. "What do you -mean, sir, by talking rubbish? Is it likely that any one of my blood -would be what you call a bounder?" - -"No," said Walter, pacifying the old man. "I only mean----" - -"Never mind what you mean. It's sure to be something foolish. This," -said Derrington, pointing with his cane to George, "is the future head -of our family. Pay him all respect." - -"We'll get on capitally," said George, clapping Walter on the back. - -"And what about my income?" asked Walter. - -"You will have what you have now," said Derrington; "don't bother me -about the matter. You and George can settle it between you." - -Considering how he had been ousted, Walter really took things very -calmly. But he had not enough vigor to protest. He sighed. His -grandfather had cowed him, and Walter profoundly admired his newly -found cousin, who did not hesitate to stand up to the despot. He began -to think it was a good thing that George had come into the family. He -would at least save him--Walter--from constant bullying. This -interesting family council was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. -Ward, as pert and pretty as ever. She had quite recovered her spirits, -and knowing that Derrington would say nothing about the card-cheating -or about the San Remo matter, she was prepared to be as insolent as -she dared. But she was quite determined not to cross swords again with -the old man. Like a burnt child she dreaded the fire. Derrington was -altogether too much, even for her. - -As it was, she came sailing in with the prettiest air in the world, -and held out both hands, her head on one side like a sick canary. "My -dear Lord Derrington, how well you are looking! How"--here her -astonished eyes fell on George. "You!" said Mrs. Ward, aghast. "Mr. -Brendon! and here!" - -"Not Mr. Brendon," said Derrington enjoying her confusion, "but my -grandson, George Vane." - -Dorothy, who had remained below to give some instructions to the -footman, entered the room just in time to hear this announcement. She -flew to her lover. "My dearest George, I am glad, glad, so glad," and -before them all she kissed him. Mrs. Ward screamed: - -"Dorothy! What manners!" - -"Very good manners," said Derrington, coolly, "seeing that they are -natural. Well, Mrs. Ward, George--my grandson, and heir," added the -old man with emphasis, "has something to say to you." - -"Really. I shall be most happy to hear it." - -George took his cue. "I have to ask you for the hand of your daughter -Dorothy," he said, looking very proud and manly as he stood with the -girl's hand within his own. - -"Really," said Mrs. Ward again, "I don't know. I fancied that Walter, -you see----" And she cast her eyes on the neat little man. - -"Oh, I scratch," said Walter, in his elegant way. "There's no fighting -against George. He has all the luck." - -"You call him George?" - -"Why shouldn't I? He's my cousin; the head of the house----" - -"When I go to my long home," finished Derrington. "Well, Mrs. Ward, do -you consent to the match?" - -"Do, mother," said Dorothy, imploringly. - -Mrs. Ward sank into a chair and pretended to be overcome by emotion. -In fact, she did this merely to gain time, as she did not wish to -answer too quickly. It was plain that Walter, whom she had wished -Dorothy to marry, took, in her own phraseology, "a back seat." George -was promoted _vice_ Walter resigned. George would be Lord Derrington and -would have the money. He was an obstinate man, certainly, and would be -difficult to manage. - -Still, she might be able to get the better of him. She could always -work him through Dorothy, if Dorothy would only get over her absurd -notions of religion and all that sort of thing. On the whole Mrs. Ward -thought it was best to agree. Knowing what Derrington knew, and how -obstinate both lovers were, she did not see very well what else she -could do. However, she made the most of her compulsory surrender. -After a few sighs, and having squeezed a few tears, she cried to her -daughter, in a muffled voice, expressive of deep emotion, "Dorothy, my -dear child." - -Dorothy, with a look at George, went and knelt down by her mother's -chair. She was not the dupe of this play-acting, but, knowing that her -mother would insist on making an effective scene, wished to get it -over as speedily as possible. - -Mrs. Ward put her hand on Dorothy's shoulder in a maternal manner. "Do -you love George?" she asked. - -"Yes," said Dorothy, simply, "you know I love him." - -"George, do you love my child?" - -"I do," replied George, curtly, while Derrington surveyed this -touching scene with a grim smile. He always loved to watch the antics -of Mrs. Ward. She believed in them so thoroughly herself, and they -deceived no one gifted with ordinary intelligence. - -"It is hard," said Mrs. Ward with a deep sigh, "to see a child leave -its parent. But you love her, you have won her;" here she rose, and -raising Dorothy from her knees gave her to George. "Take her, George, -and with her take a mother's blessing." - -The idea of Mrs. Ward's blessing was too much for Walter, and he went -off into a shriek of laughter, which ended in his leaving the room. -George was quite unmoved. He thanked Mrs. Ward and kissed Dorothy. -Then he took her to a distant seat near the window, where they could -talk sensibly. Lord Derrington was left to console the afflicted -mother. This he proceeded to do immediately. - -"Egad, you did it well!" he said, looking at the pretty woman. "I -don't believe Miss Terry or Mrs. Siddons could have done it better." - -Mrs. Ward flushed a little, but still kept up the pose. "Nature spoke, -my dear Lord Derrington. I am aware that you consider Nature vulgar." - -"I was not aware that I did. I see so little of it, that your scene -touched me--positively touched me." - -Mrs. Ward saw that it was useless to hide the truth from this -keen-eyed old man any longer. "Oh, don't be nasty," she said -plaintively, and rustled up to him. "Of course, I wanted Dorothy to -marry Walter, but George does just as well." - -"I don't think she has made a bad exchange, Mrs. Ward." - -"He's good-looking enough," said the little woman, "but so serious and -dull. Of course, I suppose you'll allow him an income." - -"He shall have all that is necessary to keep up his position as my -heir," said Derrington dryly. "I hope he and Dorothy will live here. -The house is big enough." - -"And they won't have to pay any rent, which is always a consideration, -isn't it? Oh, I hope dear Dorothy will be happy. I shall see much of -her--much of my darling child." - -"No," said Derrington, thinking it just as well to nip these plans in -the bud, "you care very little about Dorothy, and you don't like -George. When they are married you must stop away as much as is -consistent with your feelings." - -"I'll do what I like," said Mrs. Ward, beginning to tap her foot. - -"No, I don't think you will. You threatened me in this room." - -"I was only playing a game," protested Mrs. Ward. - -"Well, I can play a game also. Mrs. Jersey has left behind her a -confession in which she details how you managed to cheat your sister, -Miss Bull. If you don't leave that couple severely alone I shall show -the confession to Dorothy." - -"You would never be so cruel." - -"Oh, yes, I would," replied Derrington, who had not the slightest -intention of fulfilling his threat. - -"I never did anything to my sister. Mrs. Jersey tells lies----" - -Derrington made a gesture of disgust. "There--there," he said, "what -is the use of talking further? Things are settled. When Dorothy and -George are married I'll see what I can do for you." - -Mrs. Ward's face became wreathed with smiles. She was such a -frivolous, heartless little woman that she could change from one mood -to another with wonderful rapidity. "Oh, thank you, dear Lord -Derrington," she said artlessly, and pressing his arm. "I know you are -the most generous of men. But I really can't stop talking here all -day." She rustled over to Dorothy. "My darling, I must go and do some -shopping. No, you can stay here. I will call again in an hour. -George," she presented her cheek, "you can kiss your mother-in-law." - -George did so, delicately, so as not to spoil the tint of the cheek. - -Mrs. Ward departed. "He's like a block of wood," she said to herself; -"never did a man kiss me so coldly before. Ugh! The bear!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -A STARTLING SURPRISE - - -Having thus settled matters in a satisfactory manner with Mrs. Ward -and Dorothy, George sought out Ireland the next day. He passed a -delicious hour with Dorothy, and they renewed the vows they had made -when there was little chance of a bright future. Now the future was -altogether bright, and the two built castles in the air. George was to -marry Dorothy, they were to take up their residence with Lord -Derrington, and George was to enter Parliament on the first -opportunity. - -"But you must not neglect your literary work," said Dorothy; "the -novel must be finished." - -"I hope that many novels will be finished," said George, laughing. "I -will be like Beaconsfield, and write novels between whiles of -politics--it will be an amusement." - -"Which will be the amusement?" asked Dorothy. - -"Both. Politics is an amusing game, and when one has time to write -what one pleases, and at the pace one pleases, that is amusing also. -You will be my inspiration--my Egeria." - -"That is very like Beaconsfield," replied Miss Ward; "he always called -some unknown woman his Egeria." - -"I am more lucky. I know who my Egeria is." - -More talk of this light and fanciful kind passed. It would have -sounded foolish to sensible people, but George and his beloved were so -happy that they talked nonsense out of sheer lightness of heart. At -the end of the hour Mrs. Ward carried off Dorothy, and George took -leave of his grandfather. - -It was the next day that he went to see Ireland. At the door he was -informed that Ireland had been very ill with his heart, and that the -doctor had been called in. Nevertheless, Ireland would not obey the -advice of his physician and stop in bed. He was up and dressed as -usual and in his study. - -George entered the large bare room, papered with the gaudy -advertisements, and saw his former guardian seated at his desk as -usual. The man looked very ill. His large, placid face was extremely -pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he even seemed to -have grown lean. His clothes hung loosely on him, and he did not rise -when George entered. The young man knew that Ireland must be ill to -fail in this courtesy, as he was extremely punctilious. - -"Excuse me, George," he said, with an attempt at cheerfulness, "but I -am not so well as I might be." - -"You are looking ill--very ill," said George, taking his seat. - -Ireland nodded. "I can't live long," he remarked in his heavy voice. -"So the doctor informs me. My heart is extremely weak. I may die at -any moment." - -George was shocked. "It's not so bad as that, I hope," he said. - -"It's as bad as it well can be. For the last few days I have deviated -sadly from my usual habits. I have not taken a walk, and my system of -life is quite upset. It's the beginning of the end." He paused and -sighed. "You are looking well, George." - -"I have every reason to. Mrs. Ward has consented to my marriage." - -"With her daughter? How is that?" - -"Well, the church where my parents were married has been discovered." - -Ireland looked interested. "That is good news. Where were they -married?" - -"In Wargrove Church. It is a parish in Essex, an hour's journey from -town. Quite a small place." - -Ireland made the same remark that George himself had made. "Strange," -he said, "that being so near town the place was not discovered before. -I have no doubt that your advertisement set many people hunting. Well, -I'm glad that the marriage has been proved at last, both for your sake -and in justice to the woman I loved--to her dear memory. She was -Rosina Vane after all." - -"That has been proved beyond a doubt. My grandfather has seen the copy -of the certificate and now holds it." - -"Is he pleased?" - -"Very pleased. He is now as friendly toward me as he has been hitherto -hostile." - -Ireland nodded, breathing heavily. "I thought he would be. He and I -had a long talk about you on the day I called. That was when I saw -Mrs. Ward and----" - -"You can go on," said George, seeing his hesitation. "I know the whole -story." - -"What story?" asked Ireland, suspiciously. - -"The story of what happened at San Remo. Mrs. Ward I know was Violet -Howard, and her sister Jenny is Miss Bull." - -"Yes. Poor Jenny, she was the better of the two, and now she drags out -a miserable life in a London lodging-house. While Violet, who is a bad -woman----" - -"And the mother of Dorothy," interrupted George, imperiously. "Say no -more, sir." - -"You are quite right. As I can't say good of the woman let me say no -bad. Well, you know how she loved your father." - -"I think she flirted with him, but it was Jenny who really loved." - -"And look at her reward!" said Ireland, with a deep sigh. "Those who -try to do their best always come off worst. I loved your mother, -George, and I have been a lonely man all my life." - -It was a sad case. George wished to get at the truth, but he was so -sorry for Ireland, who had passed so many miserable years, that he did -not like to inflict more pain. Nevertheless, it was necessary to learn -if Ireland had really visited Mrs. Jersey on that night, so as to set -Bawdsey's mind at rest. If George did not learn the truth, Bawdsey -might attempt the discovery, and he would handle the old man in a much -worse manner than George was likely to do. While pondering how he -could set about his unpleasant task, George was saved from making the -first step, always the most difficult, by an observation from Ireland, -which paved the way to an explanation. - -"How did you discover the church?" he asked idly. - -"In rather a queer way. Lola Velez----" - -Ireland opened his eyes, which had been closed, and looked up. "Who is -Lola Velez?" he asked anxiously. - -"She is a dancer whom I helped--oh, quite in a proper way, Mr. -Ireland. You know the name?" - -Ireland, contrary to George's expectation, nodded. "There was a woman -in San Remo about the time of your father's death. She was called -Velez, and was in love with him." - -"He seems to have been a fascinating man," said George, smiling, to -set Ireland at his ease. "But this Lola is the daughter of the woman -you mention. It was she who found the church." - -By this time Ireland was quite awake, and keenly anxious for details. -"How did she learn its name?" he demanded quickly. - -"She found it in the confession of Mrs. Jersey." - -Ireland snapped the paper-cutter he was holding, and, leaning back in -his chair, looked anxiously at George. "What do you mean?" - -"Well," replied the young man, keeping his eyes fixed on Ireland's -face, "it seems that Mrs. Jersey left a confession behind her as to -what took place at San Remo." - -"Who has that confession?" - -"I have! I got it from Lola!" - -"And how did she manage to obtain it?" - -For answer George related how Lola had called to see Mrs. Jersey, and -how she had managed to steal the confession. "It was from reading it," -finished George, "that she learned of the church in which my parents -were married. Desiring that I should marry her, and thinking I would -not do as were my birth proved, she went to the church to destroy the -registers. She was caught with the torn leaves, and arrested." - -"Arrested?" - -"Yes. I wonder you did not see the case reported in the papers." - -"I have been too ill to read the papers lately," said Ireland, looking -round the room in rather a helpless way, "and none of my servants told -me. What happened?" - -"Oh, Lola was let off with a small fine. She is now back dancing at -her music-hall. She gave the confession to me." - -"Did any one else see it--the authorities?" - -"No. You can set your mind at rest, Mr. Ireland. I got it from Lola -before she was taken to prison. No one had seen it but myself and Lord -Derrington." - -Ireland drew a long breath of relief. "You made a strange remark just -now, George," he said, not looking at the young man. "You told me to -set my mind at rest. Why did you say that?" - -"I have read the confession," said George, quietly. - -Mr. Ireland rose from his chair and began to pace the room. He seemed -so weak that George wished him to return, but the old man waved his -hand impatiently. "It's all right--it's all right," he said, then -stopped opposite to George. "Then you know?" - -"I know that my father's death was due to an accident." - -"What! Did that wretched woman tell the truth?" - -"She told the truth." - -"And she did not accuse me of having murdered your father?" - -"No. She did not. I suppose she thought it was as well to go to her -long home with as few sins as possible on her conscience. But she -certainly exonerated you." - -"Thank God for that," said Ireland, and returned to his seat. Then he -looked at his visitor in a piteous manner. "George," he said in -faltering tones, "I have suffered greatly on account of that most -unhappy accident----" - -"I am sure you must have, sir. But don't let it worry you any more. It -was an accident, and both Lord Derrington and I heartily forgive you -for having been the unconscious cause of my father's death." - -Ireland nodded. "Thank God again," he said solemnly. "Your father and -I were not very good friends, as I found it difficult to forgive him -for having taken from me the woman I loved. But at San Remo we got on -better together. I stifled my resentment so that I might see as much -of you as possible, George. Knowing that I was not on good terms with -Vane, I thought that Mrs. Jersey might have accused me of the crime. -She did try to get money out of me." - -"So Bawdsey told me." - -"Bawdsey. Who is he?" - -"I forget you don't know. He is a private-inquiry agent who has been -looking after the case on behalf of Lord Derrington. I learn from the -confession of Mrs. Jersey that he is her husband." - -"George Rates. I remember. She told me she married him and went to -America. It was after her return from America that she tried to get -money out of me. I refused; not that I did not realize the danger to -which she could expose me, but I knew that if I once yielded I would -be in her power. Besides, I had a defense, as she got the stiletto -from the woman Velez." - -"And it was with that same stiletto that Mrs. Jersey was killed." - -"By whom?" asked Ireland. "Did her husband----" - -"No. We do not know who killed her. Perhaps you may know?" - -"I!" Ireland looked genuinely surprised. "No; how should I know?" - -"Well," said George, rather awkwardly, "it seems that Bawdsey has got -it into his head that you knew about this confession." - -"I did not!" - -"That you were afraid it would be published after her death, and that -you went to the house on that night to get it." - -"I did not. How could I have entered the house?" - -"Bawdsey thinks you had a latch-key." - -"No. All the keys were handed to Lord Derrington's agent -when the house was sold. In plain in words, George, this man -Bawdsey--Rates--whatever he calls himself; accuses me of the murder." - -"He doesn't exactly accuse you, but----" - -"I don't know what else you would call his statements but -accusations," retorted Ireland with some heat, "but I never was near -the house. I certainly thought that Mrs. Jersey might leave some such -confession, but I never asked her about it. I never thought that such -a healthy woman would die before me, and I knew that sooner or later -my bad heart would carry me off in spite of the regularity of my -life." - -"Then you cannot guess who killed her?" - -"No. I was never near the house. I was in bed and asleep. My servants -will tell you so." - -"I need not ask them," said George, quickly. "I never thought you were -guilty, and I only came to receive your assurance, so that I might -tell Bawdsey and prevent him troubling you." - -"If Bawdsey comes here I'll soon make short work of him," said -Ireland, sharply. "I am not afraid." - -"You need not be. Mrs. Jersey's own confession exonerates you." - -"I don't mind even that. I would have faced the worst had it to be -faced. I never was a coward--except in one thing." He paused and -looked timidly at George. "I shrank from telling you how I was the -unhappy cause of your father's death." - -"You were not the cause, in my opinion. Mrs. Jersey was the cause." - -"Well, I thought you would shrink from me did you know all." - -"I do know all, and I do not shrink from you," replied George, leaning -across the desk to shake Ireland's hand. "It was a pure accident, and -has been related by your enemy." - -"I am so glad the truth is known to you at last," faltered the old -man, "and that you see how unconsciously I caused the death. You are -her son, George, the son of the only woman I ever loved--of the woman -for whose sake I have remained lonely all these years. Had you -condemned me----" His emotion prevented him from saying more. - -George grew alarmed by his pallor. "Please think no more of the -matter, Mr. Ireland," he said; "you are ill. Go and lie down!" - -"Yes, I'll lie down." Ireland leaned heavily, on George's arm. "I -shall lie down for ever. But I am glad you know. I am glad you are not -angered." - -"We are the best of friends, Mr. Ireland. You have always been kind to -me. And I am sure my dead mother blesses you for all your goodness to -her orphan boy." - -"Rosina! Rosina!" murmured Ireland, "how I loved her. You have her -eyes, George, and her kind nature. Come, let me get to bed. Soon the -curtain will drop." - -"I am afraid my visit has been too much for you." - -"No. I am glad you came. I am glad you spoke out. I always intended to -do so, but I feared lest you should blame me." - -By this time they were ascending the stairs. George conducted the old -man to his room and sent for the doctor. Ireland undressed and got to -bed. Then he insisted on George leaving him. - -"But you are ill," protested the young man. - -"I am dying, but what of that? I am glad to die. I shall meet Rosina -again after long, long years of sorrow. Go, George. We understand one -another, and you have forgiven me. There is no more to be said." - -"There is nothing to forgive," replied George, softly; then, to humor -his old guardian, he departed. A strong grip of the hand was exchanged -between them. George left the room and saw Ireland lying as still as -any corpse. Only his lips moved, and they murmured continuously, -"Rosina! Rosina!" He was true to the woman he loved to the very end. - -George left the house, as there was nothing he could do, but he -intended to call in again. Meanwhile he repaired to Amelia Square to -see Bawdsey. Derrington wished him to tell the detective to stop -looking after the case and discharge him from his employment. In his -pocket George had a check for one thousand pounds, and when this was -paid the whole case was to be relegated to obscurity. Now that -Derrington was reconciled to his grandson he was anxious, for obvious -reasons, that the sordid tragedy of Mrs. Jersey's death should not -come to light. He had not played a very respectable part in it -himself, and, moreover, he did not wish that confession published. It -would only be a case of washing the family linen in public, and both -George and he agreed that this was undesirable. The sooner Bawdsey -married Lola and went to America the better, Derrington thought. And -for his own sake Bawdsey would hold his tongue, seeing what a close -connection he was of the dead woman. - -Bawdsey was at home and saw George at once. He looked rather excited, -and could hardly keep his seat. "Well, Mr. Brendon," he asked, "what -is it?" - -"I should rather ask you that;" said George; "you seem excited." - -"Not very. Only I have been fortunate in some business, and----" - -"What is the business?" - -"I'll tell you that later. What is yours?" - -"A pleasant one," rejoined George. "Here is the check for one thousand -pounds which my grandfather promised you. Marry Lola and go to the -States, and stop searching for the assassin of Mrs. Jersey." - -"Thank you," replied Bawdsey, taking the check eagerly, "your -grandfather is a prince, Mr. Brendon. As to the case, why should I -stop searching?" - -"You will never find the assassin." - -"Pardon me," said Bawdsey, in high glee. "I have found the assassin. -Yes!" as George uttered an ejaculation. "Miss Bull killed Mrs. -Jersey." - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -THE TRUTH - - -George stared at the triumphant detective in surprise. It seemed -impossible that what he stated could be true. Miss Bull was the very -last person whom Brendon would have accused. No one had been more -candid than she had been, and no one at the time of the discovery of -the crime had done more to help the detectives. - -"You must mean Margery," said George after a time. - -"No, I don't," replied Bawdsey, in a determined voice. "I mean that -little white old woman with the black eyes--Miss Bull, or, as you know -her, Miss Jenny Howard." - -"But what reason----" - -"Ah, that's a long story! She shall tell you herself." - -"Have you had her arrested?" - -"Not yet. But she will be arrested before the end of the day. I have -already communicated with Scotland Yard." - -George rose and walked to the window. He felt irritable and upset now -that the truth had come to light. He wished that Bawdsey had not been -so confoundedly interfering, and the detective's next words annoyed -him still further. - -"It was your idea about Margery that put me on the scent," he said -with great complacency; "though, to be sure, I had my suspicions -before. It was to watch Miss Bull that I came here." - -"What made you think that she was guilty?" - -"She has confessed--in the calmest manner, too--that----" - -"I mean before. Why did you suspect her?" - -"Well, it seemed to me that she was the only person who could have -killed Eliza. She and Eliza hated one another because of their mutual -love for your father." - -George groaned. What a lot of trouble his father had caused with his -handsome looks and charming manners. Even after his death the fatal -attraction he exercised seemed to bring about disaster. "She did not -kill Mrs. Jersey on that account," he said. - -"Wait till you hear. She will tell you. In fact, she asked me to send -for you, as she wishes to speak." - -"Where is she now?" - -"In the famous sitting-room playing Patience." - -"Doesn't she realize the peril of her position?" - -"In a way she does. But she seems quite ready to face the worst." - -"Poor woman," said George, thinking of the sad life which the old maid -had led; "if she has sinned, she has suffered." - -"If people will use knives in that way they must be punished," was the -rather harsh retort of Bawdsey. - -"Don't talk stuff, Bawdsey. You have your own sins to think of." - -"I never committed murder." - -"No one said you had, but you may do so before you die." - -Bawdsey shuddered. "I hope not, Mr. Vane," he said. "I don't know why -you should say such a thing. I am an honest man." - -"You say that so often that I shall begin to disbelieve it," replied -Brendon, rather cynically; "but if you marry Lola, either you will -kill her or she will kill you." - -"I'll take my chance of that. And if you----" - -George made an impatient gesture with his hand and returned to his -seat. "Never mind further chatter. Let me hear how you came to learn -that this poor creature struck the blow." - -"If you talk that way of a criminal, Mr. Vane, what will you say of a -good woman?" - -"My good man, there is more joy over a sinner that repenteth----" - -"But Miss Bull doesn't repent," said Bawdsey. - -"I'll hear the story before I give an opinion on that point. You say -that it was some remark I made which----" - -"Yes, it was," said Bawdsey, eagerly, and throwing himself into a -seat. "Your remark that Margery might be guilty----" - -"One moment," interrupted George, in his turn. "I may tell you that I -have seen Mr. Ireland, and he declares that he never was near the -house on that night, that he knew nothing of the confession, and that -he had no latch-key. He is innocent." - -"Now that I have heard Miss Bull I know that, sir. She's the one." - -"Well, and how did you find out?" - -Bawdsey cleared his throat and began, with a most important air: "I -rather agreed with your idea that Margery might be guilty," he said, -"and when I turned it over in my own mind I thought it more and more -probable. I therefore determined to get Margery alone and work on her -fears." - -"Pah!" said Brendon, with disgust. - -"Well, sir," retorted Bawdsey, shrugging his shoulders. "I had to get -at the truth somehow, and detective's work is not all so honorable as -novelists make out. I got Margery alone." - -"And how did you set to work?" - -"Well, it was this morning in the sitting-room. Miss Bull had gone out -and had left Margery to make up some accounts. The girl was laboring -away at them and getting into a hopeless mess. I came to speak with -her, and offered to do them. I soon put the accounts to rights and -then began to talk of Miss Bull." - -"Why of Miss Bull?" - -"Why--" Bawdsey pinched his lip--"I thought at the time that Margery -was guilty, and that if in talking to her I laid the blame on Miss -Bull that the girl would speak out." - -"You traded on the poor wretch's friendship. Bawdsey, I'm ashamed of -you." - -"I'm ashamed of myself," replied the detective, penitently; "but Lord -bless you! Mr. Vane, one gets used to this sort of thing. In our -business the means justifies the ends far more than in religion." - -"I certainly don't think it justifies any end in religion," said -George, sharply. "Well, you accused Miss Bull of the crime?" - -"In a way I did. Margery denied it." - -"What did you say?" - -"That she might as well confess. I declared that I had evidence to -prove Miss Bull's guilt, and that she would be arrested when she came -back. I declare, Mr. Vane, I thought that girl would strike me. She -was like a wild-cat." - -"I wish she had," growled George, whose generous spirit was revolted -by the use Bawdsey had put Margery to. - -"She said if I arrested Miss Bull she would kill me. I said, 'As you -killed your aunt.' She up and said: 'Yes, I did kill her. Miss Bull is -innocent, and you know she is.' Of course, when she admitted the fact -I at once began to suspect Miss Bull." - -"Why did you do that?" - -"Because if Margery had been guilty she would not have owned up. But -if Miss Bull was guilty, Margery would certainly take the guilt on -herself." - -"Poor girl!" murmured George "there is something noble in that dull -soul." - -Bawdsey could not see this, and mentally disagreed with it. However, -he did not want to argue down Brendon's too tender conscience, so he -went on with his recital. "While Margery was threatening me and taking -the guilt on herself, Miss Bull came in. That stupid girl ran to her -and fell at her feet, crying that I knew all, but that she would die -for her dear Miss Bull." - -"And what did the woman say?" - -"She asked me if I knew. I said I did. She demanded how I found out. I -told her that that was my business. She began to smell a rat and -suspected that I was bluffing. She would have held her tongue, but -Margery was in such terror for her friend that she came out with the -whole story. Miss Bull tried to stop her, but Margery kept repeating -that she would die for her dear Miss Bull, and so let the cat out of -the bag." - -"The girl is half-witted--all this may not be true." - -"Oh, yes, it is. When Miss Bull saw that the game was up she sat down -and admitted that she had killed Mrs. Jersey. She also said that she -was glad the truth had come to light, that she wished to die, and so -on." - -"She was raving," said George, incredulously, not thinking any one -would incriminate himself or herself so freely. - -"No, she wasn't. She told me the whole story in the calmest manner, -just as though she were asking me to have a cup of tea. Then she asked -me to send for you and sat down to play Patience." - -"I wonder you are not having her watched," said George, with scorn. - -"Oh, she won't run away," replied Bawdsey, easily, and not perceiving -the irony of the remark. "Come along, Mr. Vane, we'll go down and see -her. She is desperately anxious to see you." - -"Do any of the boarders know?" - -"Not yet, but they will when she is arrested." - -George shuddered and followed Bawdsey down the stairs. It seemed -terrible to him that such a fragile little creature as Miss Bull -should be subjected to this disgrace. He did not condone her crime. -She had acted wrongly and must take the consequences. But he could not -forget that she was Dorothy's aunt, and he wished he could see some -way of rescuing her from this dreadful position. - -Miss Bull was--as Bawdsey had stated--playing Patience. Seated at the -very table where her victim had sat, she dealt the cards, and seemed -quite interested in the game. Margery was seated in a chair near at -hand, looking with tearful eyes into the face of her friend. Beyond -the fact that Miss Bull was whiter than usual, she showed no signs of -emotion. - -"You have come, George," she said, addressing him by his name. "I am -glad to see you. Mr. Bawdsey, you may go." - -The detective was taken aback and would have remonstrated, but Margery -rose and approached him. "You have done your worst," she said, her -eyes flashing. "Go, or I'll twist your neck." - -Bawdsey shrugged his shoulders, and with a glance at George went out. -After all, he had heard the story before and did not particularly care -to hear it again. Besides, Bawdsey was a kindly man, and he felt sorry -that he had proceeded to such extremities. - -Miss Bull shuffled her pack of cards and laid them away in a box. "I -shall play that game no more," she said. "I have been playing Patience -all my life, but the end has come, and I am glad it has come. Hush, -Margery," for the girl had burst into tears, "I will see that you are -left well off and looked after, my dear." - -"I don't want that. I want you," sobbed the girl. She slipped to the -floor and laid her head on Miss Bull's knee like a faithful dog. Miss -Bull patted her head and allowed her to remain in this position while -she spoke to George. Margery sobbed for a time, and then remained -quiet, listening to every word, and quite content to feel the gentle -hand of the old maid smoothing her hair. - -"I suppose you were astonished when Mr. Bawdsey told you?" said Miss -Bull, looking with piercing eyes at Brendon. - -"I was. I never thought that you--you----" - -"That I would kill Mrs. Jersey," finished the woman, quietly. "Why -not? She was a bad, wicked creature, and caused the death of your -father. She boasted of it." - -"Where? When?" asked the astonished young man. - -"In this very room, in my presence. But to make you understand, I had -better tell you all." - -"One moment, Miss Bull. When you told the fortunes on that night, did -you intend to kill Mrs. Jersey?" - -"No. The death card did turn up. That was a strange coincidence, -George. When I came down the stairs I had no more idea than you of -killing the wretched woman." - -"What made you do it?" - -"I am telling you," replied Miss Bull, folding her hands on her lap. -"Wait and hear. Mrs. Jersey was very rude to me on that night. I -intended to remonstrate with her. She added insult to injury by -locking Margery in her bedroom, so as to keep her from me. I heard her -scolding Margery in the passage, and when all was quiet, and Mrs. -Jersey had gone down the stairs, I went up to Margery's room and -unlocked the door. Mrs. Jersey had struck the poor child, and she was -sobbing on her bed. I then determined to go down for the second time -and see Mrs. Jersey." - -"For the second time? Were you down before?" - -"I was," replied Miss Bull, calmly. "I wondered who Mrs. Jersey had -coming to see her, particularly after she had lost her courage when -she saw the yellow holly in your coat." - -"You noticed that?" - -"Yes, and I noticed the holly also. I wondered why you wore it. The -sight of it put into my mind that fatal night when he--" Miss Bull -brushed aside her thoughts--"but no matter. I thought I would see if -Mrs. Jersey was seeing any one, and also I wished to talk about the -yellow holly." - -"But why should you trouble about her seeing any one?" - -Miss Bull looked down and then looked up abruptly. "Mrs. Jersey would -have sent me back to the asylum if she could, and I was always afraid -lest she should see some one secretly about the matter. I crept down -the stairs, leaving Margery in my room playing at Patience. Mrs. -Jersey's door was closed. I heard the murmur of voices and I put my -ear to the keyhole. I heard that dancer--afterward I learned that it -was the dancer--I heard her accuse Mrs. Jersey of having killed Percy -Vane." - -"On what grounds did Lola base that accusation?" - -"She said her mother told her." - -"I remember," muttered George. "The mother, on receiving back the -stiletto, certainly might have thought so. And what did Mrs. Jersey -say?" he asked aloud. - -"She denied it, and made some sort of excuse. I remained to hear no -more. I knew then that Mrs. Jersey had killed my Percy." - -"But she did not; it was an accident." - -"I know. She explained. But she was the cause. I was right to kill -her. But for her Percy would have been alive, I would have been his -wife, and you, George, would have been my step-son." - -"What did you do next?" - -"I went up to my room and resumed my game of Patience. I intended to -have a talk with Mrs. Jersey the next morning, but when I found that -she had struck Margery I came down at once---" - -"That was after eleven?" - -"About a quarter past. Mrs. Jersey was in her room. We talked, and I -told her what I had heard. She denied it. I pointed to the stiletto -which was on the table as a proof that the girl had been here. Mrs. -Jersey said that it was the same stiletto with which Percy had been -killed, as Lola had received it from her mother. That put the thought -into my head that God intended Mrs. Jersey should be slain with the -same weapon with which my darling had been stabbed." - -"A terrible thought. You should have put it away." - -"I did, but it came again. I accused Mrs. Jersey of having killed -Percy. She gloried in the fact that it was through her he had died. -She declared that if Ireland had not held her hand she would have laid -him dead at her feet. She exulted that the accident had fulfilled her -intention, and taunted me with the fact that I never became his wife. -I was very quiet," added Miss Bull, her eyes glittering, "but my blood -was boiling. Mrs. Jersey turned her back on me with an insolent laugh -and sat down. The stiletto was on the table, her head was turned away. -I softly took the dagger, and----" - -"No! no!" cried Margery, wailing, "you never did it--you never did it, -dear Miss Bull. It was I who----" - -"Don't be a fool, child! I did it, and I would do it again." Miss Bull -rose. "George, you now know all, go--no, do not shake hands. I have -avenged your father, and I expect I will be hanged." - -Margery burst out into renewed weeping, and Miss Bull soothed her, -talking to George the while. "Tell my sister," she said, "that the -name of Howard will not be mentioned. I will die under my false name. -No disgrace will be brought on her. As to Dorothy--" here Miss Bull's -eyes grew tender--"no disgrace will befall her. Marry her, George, -love her, make her a good husband, and--take this kiss to her from a -sorely tried woman." - -Before the astonished George knew what she was about, he felt a pair -of cold lips pressed to his own. The next moment she had pushed him -out of the room and had locked the door. That was the last George saw -of her. - -Whether Margery had agreed to die with her, or whether Miss Bull, -knowing what a miserable life the girl would lead after her death, -compelled her to take the poison, it will never be known. But when the -door was burst open the two women were found on the floor in one -another's arms. On the table was an empty glass, and it was -ascertained that Miss Bull and Margery had taken prussic acid. Bawdsey -entered the room an hour after the death, alarmed by the silence. He -found that his prey had escaped. Miss Bull was buried under her false -name, and Margery was buried with her. Nothing of Miss Bull's sad past -or of her killing of Mrs. Jersey came to light. She passed away with -her only friend, and her story was told. - -Six months later George Vane was seated in the library of the mansion -in St. Giles Square. It was after dinner, and Lord Derrington occupied -his usual chair. The old man looked brighter and happier than he had -looked for many years. Daily George grew a greater favorite with him, -and on the morrow George was to be married. Lord Derrington had -insisted that as it was his last night as a bachelor George should -dine alone with him, and would not admit even Walter. "It's the last -time I'll have you all to myself, George," said the old man, -piteously; "after to-morrow Dorothy will possess you." - -"Not at all," replied George, "you will have us both. We will come -back from the honeymoon in a month, and then we will live here." - -"That's all been arranged," said Derrington, testily, "but we won't be -two independent bachelors." - -"All the better," replied his grandson, cheerily; "a lady in the house -will make a lot of difference. You won't know this place when Dorothy -is flitting about." - -"Don't! Her mother is the kind of woman who flits, and I won't have -her doing the butterfly business in that way." - -"Oh, I don't think we'll be troubled much with Mrs. Ward. Since the -shock inflicted by her sister's sad death she has become religious." - -"Bah! That's only a phrase. Poor Miss Bull," said Derrington. "I like -to think of her under that name. She had a sad life. I don't wonder -she killed herself. Do you think she was mad, George?" - -"No. But I think the memory of her wrongs, which were all caused by -Mrs. Jersey, was too much for her. She was mad for the moment, but she -told me the terrible story in the calmest manner." - -"And who came in at the front door that night?" asked Derrington. - -"No one. After the murder Miss Bull opened it to fly--panic-struck, I -expect--but Margery came downstairs and stopped her. Miss Bull closed -the door and remained to face the worst." - -"Well, she is dead and buried, and the scandal is laid at rest. Unless -that Bawdsey revives it." - -"Oh, you can trust Bawdsey," said George, smiling; "he and Lola are -quite happy, and she has almost forgotten me. I got a letter from -Bawdsey the other day. He is acting as his wife's agent, and they are -making a lot of money." - -"All the better. He won't talk about that business. By the way, I -forgot to ask you about Ireland's money?" - -"The money he left to me? I have settled that on Dorothy. How suddenly -he died," said George, reflectively; "just an hour after I left the -house. I hope his end was peace. I think it was, as he felt relieved -that you and I had forgiven him." - -"There was nothing to forgive. It was an accident, and if any blame is -due it is to that Jersey woman." - -"Well, she is dead, and the woman who killed her is dead, so let them -all rest in peace. But it was good of Ireland leaving me his money." - -"I don't see who else he had to leave it to. And five thousand a year -is not to be despised. Have you settled it all on Dorothy?" - -"Every penny. Don't you approve?" - -"Oh, yes, so long as Mrs. Ward doesn't get it." - -"She's a reformed character. Why, the other day she told me that she -considered Dorothy irreligious." - -"Pah! New brooms. She'll soon grow weary of that pose. When the effect -of poor Jenny Howard's death wears off she will be as gay and silly as -before. Don't have her in this house, that's all." - -"You can depend upon that, sir. But Dorothy will be here--Dorothy, -whom I shall see to-morrow crowned with orange-blossoms, and----" - -Derrington laughed, but not unkindly. "Well, well. Better -orange-blossoms than yellow holly." - -George nodded. "I hope never to see yellow holly again," he said, and -Derrington agreed. So their conversation ended on the threshold of -George's new life with that last reference to the old. - - - -THE END - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Yellow Holly, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YELLOW HOLLY *** - -***** This file should be named 54979-0.txt or 54979-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/9/7/54979/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page images provided by -Google Books (the University of Wisconsin-Madison) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |