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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc501fb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55961 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55961) diff --git a/old/55961-8.txt b/old/55961-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0489b82..0000000 --- a/old/55961-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8180 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Millionaire Mystery, 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 Millionaire Mystery - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: November 13, 2017 [EBook #55961] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=749DAQAAMAAJ - - - - - - -THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY - - - -BY -FERGUS HUME - - -AUTHOR OF -"THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE LADY FROM NOWHERE," ETC. - - - - -LONDON -CHATTO & WINDUS -1901 - - - - - - -CONTENTS - -CHAPTER - -I. A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE -II. THE HUT ON THE HEATH -III. AN ELEGANT EPISTLE -IV. ANOTHER SURPRISE -V. A NINE DAYS' WONDER -VI. THE MISSING KEY -VII. IN DIXON'S RENTS -VIII. AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW -IX. INVESTIGATION -X. ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE -XI. THE STRANGER -XII. A STRANGE STORY -XIII. A STRANGE STORY--_continued_ -XIV. THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE -XV. TROUBLE -XVI. ALAN'S DEFENCE -XVII. JOE'S EVIDENCE -XVIII. A PORTION OF THE TRUTH -XIX. A REAPPEARANCE -XX. THE AMAZEMENT OF ALAN THOROLD -XXI. THE STORY OF THE PAST -XXII. THE BEGINNING OF THE END -XXIII. ONE PART OF THE TRUTH -XXIV. THE OTHER PART OF THE TRUTH - - - - - -THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY - - - - -CHAPTER I. -A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE - - -Steering his course by a tapering spire notched in the eye of the -sunset, a tramp slouched along the Heathton Road. From the western sky -a flood of crimson light poured over the dusty white highway, which -led straightly across the moor. To right and left, acres of sear -coarse herbage rolled towards the distant hills, now black against the -flaming horizon. In the quivering air gnats danced and flickered; the -earth panted with the thirst of a lengthy drought, and the sky arched -itself over the heat of a fiery furnace. - -For many hours the tramp had held on steadily in the pitiless glare of -the mid-June sun, and now that he saw ahead of him the spire and -house-roofs and encircling trees of the village whither he was bound, -a sigh of relief burst from him. - -To ease his aching feet he sat down beside a moldering millstone and -wiped his beaded brow with a red bandana. He did not swear, which was -singular in a tramp. - -Apparently he had but recently joined the cadging profession, for -about him there lingered an air of respectability and the marks of a -prosperity not wholly decayed. He was stout, rubicund of countenance, -and he wheezed like a sick grampus. Watery gray eyes and a strawberry -nose revealed the seasoned toper; thick lips and a slack mouth the -sensualist. As a begging friar of medæval times he would have been -altogether admirable; as a modern tramp he was out of the picture. - -Clothed in a broadcloth frock-coat considerably the worse for wear, he -wore--oddly enough for a tramp--gaiters over his gouty-looking boots. -His black gloves were darned at the finger-tips, and his battered silk -hat had been ironed and brushed with sedulous care. This rook-like -plumage was now plentifully sprinkled with the white dust of travel. -His gait, in spite of his blistered feet, was dignified, and his -manners were imposing. - -The road was lonely, likewise the heath. There was no one in sight, -not even a returning plowman; but the recumbent wayfarer could hear, -mellowed by distance, the bells of homing cows. Beasts as they were, -he envied them. They at least had a place to sleep in for the night; -he was without a home, without even the necessary money to procure -shelter. Luckily it was summer-time, dry and warm. Also the tramp -affected the philosopher. - -"This," he remarked, eying a sixpence extracted from the knotted -corner of his handkerchief, "is a drink--two drinks if I take beer, -which is gouty. But it is not a meal nor a bed. No! one drink, and a -morsel of bread-and-cheese. But the bed! Ah!" He stared at the coin -with a sigh, as though he hoped it would swell into a shilling. It did -not, and he sighed again. "Shall I have good luck in this place?" -cried he. "Heads I shall, tails I shan't." The coin spun and fell -heads. "Ha!" said the tramp, getting on to his feet, "this must be -seen to. I fly to good fortune on willing feet," and he resumed his -trudging. - -A quarter of an hour brought him to the encircling wood. He passed -beyond pine and larch and elm into a cozy little village with one -street. This was broken in the center by an expanse of green turf -surrounded by red-roofed houses, amongst them--as he saw from the -swinging sign--a public-house, called, quaintly enough, the Good -Samaritan. - -"Scriptural," said the stranger--"possibly charitable. Let us see." He -strode forward into the taproom. - -In the oiliest of tones he inquired for the landlord. But in this -case, it appeared, there was no landlord, for a vixenish little woman, -lean as a cricket and as shrill, bounced out with the information that -she, Mrs. Timber, was the landlady. Her husband, she snapped out, was -dead. To the tramp this hostess appeared less promising than the -seductive sign, and he quailed somewhat at the sight of her. However, -with a brazen assurance born of habit, he put a bold face on it, -peremptorily demanding bread, cheese, and ale. The request for a bed -he left in abeyance, for besides the vixenish Mrs. Timber there -hovered around a stalwart pot-boy, whose rolled-up sleeves revealed a -biceps both admirable and formidable. - -"Bread, cheese, and ale," repeated the landlady, with a sharp glance -at her guest's clerical dress, "for this. And who may you be, sir?" -she asked, with a world of sarcasm expended on the "sir." - -"My name is Cicero Gramp. I am a professor of elocution and -eloquence." - -"Ho! a play-actor?" Mrs. Timber became more disdainful than ever. - -"Not at all; I am not on the boards. I recite to the best families. -The Bishop of Idlechester has complimented me on my----" - -"Here's the bread-and-cheese," interrupted the landlady, "likewise the -beer. Sixpence!" - -Very reluctantly Mr. Gramp produced his last remaining coin. She -dropped it into a capacious pocket, and retired without vouchsafing -him another word. Cicero, somewhat discouraged by this reception, -congratulated himself that the night was fine for out-of-door slumber. -He ensconced himself in a corner with his frugal supper, and listened -to the chatter going on around him. It appeared to be concerned with -the funeral of a local magnate. Despite the prophecy of the coin, now -in Mrs. Timber's pocket, Cicero failed to see how he could extract -good fortune out of his present position. However, he listened; some -chance word might mean money. - -"Ah! 'tis a fine dry airy vault," said a lean man who proved to be a -stonemason. "Never built a finer, I didn't, nor my mates neither. An' -Muster Marlow'll have it all to 'isself." - -"Such a situation!" croaked another. "Bang opposite the Lady Chapel! -An' the view from that there vault! I don't know as any corp 'ud -require a finer." - -"Mr. Marlow'll be lonely by himself," sighed a buxom woman; "there's -room for twenty coffins, an' only one in the vault. 'Tain't -natural-like." - -"Well," chimed in the village schoolmaster, "'twill soon fill. There's -Miss Marlow." - -"Dratted nonsense!" cried Mrs. Timber, making a dash into the company -with a tankard of beer in each hand. "Miss Sophy'll marry Mr. -Thorold, won't she? An' he, as the Squire of Heathton, 'as a family -vault, ain't he? She'll sleep beside him as his wife, lawfully -begotten." - -"The Thorolds' vault is crowded," objected the stonemason. "Why, -there's three-hundred-year dead folk there! A very old gentry lot, the -Thorolds." - -"Older than your Marlows!" snapped Mrs. Timber. "Who was he afore he -came to take the Moat House five year ago? Came from nowhere--a tree -without a root." - -The schoolmaster contradicted. - -"Nay, he came from Africa, I know--from Mashonaland, which is said to -be the Ophir of King Solomon. And Mr. Marlow was a millionaire!" - -"Much good his money'll do him now," groaned the buxom woman, who was -a Dissenter. "Ah! Dives in torment." - -"You've no call to say that, Mrs. Berry. Mr. Marlow wasn't a bad man." - -"He was charitable, I don't deny, an' went to church regular," -assented Mrs. Berry; "but he died awful sudden. Seems like a judgment -for something he'd done." - -"He died quietly," said the schoolmaster. "Dr. Warrender told me all -about it--a kind of fit at ten o'clock last Thursday, and on Friday -night he passed away as a sleeping child. He was not even sufficiently -conscious to say good-by to Miss Sophy." - -"Ah, poor girl! she's gone to the seaside with Miss Parsh to nurse her -sorrow." - -"It will soon pass--soon pass," observed the schoolmaster, waving -his pipe. "The young don't think much of death. Miss Sophy's rich, -too--rich as the Queen of Sheba, and she will marry Mr. Thorold in a -few months. Funeral knells will give way to wedding-bells, Mrs. -Berry." - -"Ah!" sighed Mrs. Berry, feeling she was called upon for an -appropriate sentiment; "you may say so, Mr. Stack. Such is life!" - -Cicero, munching his bread-and-cheese, felt that his imposing -personality was being neglected, and seized upon what he deemed his -opportunity. - -"If this company will permit," he said, "I propose now to give a -recitation apropos of the present melancholy event. Need I say I refer -to the lamented death of Mr. Marlow?" - -"I'll have no godless mumming here," said Mrs. Timber firmly. -"Besides, what do you know about Mr. Marlow?" - -Whereupon Cicero lied lustily to impress the bumpkins, basing his -fiction upon such facts as his ears had enabled him to come by. - -"Marlow!" he wailed, drawing forth his red bandana for effect. "Did I -not know him as I know myself? Were we not boys together till he went -to Africa?" - -"Perhaps you can tell us about Mr. Marlow," said the schoolmaster -eagerly. "None of us knows exactly who he was. He appeared here with -his daughter some five years ago, and took the Moat House. He was -rich, and people said he had made his riches in South Africa." - -"He did! he did!" said Cicero, deeply affected. "Millions he was -worth--millions! I came hither to see him, and I arrive to find the -fond friend of my youth dead. Oh, Jonathan, my brother Jonathan!" - -"His name was Richard," said Mrs. Timber suspiciously. - -"I know it, I know it. I use the appellation Jonathan merely in -illustration of the close friendship which was between us. I am -David." - -"H'm!" snorted Mrs. Timber, eying him closely, "and who was Mr. -Marlow?" - -This leading question perplexed Mr. Gramp not a little, for he knew -nothing about the man. - -"What!" he cried, with simulated horror. "Reveal the secrets of the -dead? Never! never!" - -"Secrets?" repeated the lean stonemason eagerly. "Ah! I always thought -Mr. Marlow had 'em. He looked over his shoulder too often for my -liking. An' there was a look on his face frequent which pointed, I may -say, to a violent death." - -"Ah! say not that my friend Dick Marlow came to an untimely end." - -This outcry came from Cicero; it was answered by Mrs. Timber. - -"He died of a fit," she said tartly, "and that quietly enough, -considering as Dr. Warrender can testify. But now we've talked enough, -an' I'm going to lock up; so get out, all of you!" - -In a few minutes the taproom was cleared and the lights out. Cicero, -greatly depressed, lingered in the porch, wondering how to circumvent -the dragon. - -"Well," snapped that amiable beast, "what are you waitin' for?" - -"You couldn't give me a bed for the night?" - -"Course I could, for a shillin'." - -"I haven't a shilling, I regret to say." - -"Then you'd best get one, or go without your bed," replied the lady, -and banged the door in his face. - -Under this last indignity even Cicero's philosophy gave way, and he -launched an ecclesiastic curse at the inhospitable inn. - -Fortunately the weather was warm and tranquil. Not a breath of wind -stirred the trees. The darkling earth was silent--silent as the -watching stars. Even the sordid soul of the vagabond was stirred by -the solemn majesty of the sky. He removed his battered hat and looked -up. - -"The heavens are telling the glory of God," he said; but, not -recollecting the rest of the text, he resumed his search for a -resting-place. - -It was now only between nine and ten o'clock, yet, as he wandered down -the silent street, he could see no glimmer of a light in any window. -His feet took him, half unconsciously as it were, by the path leading -towards the tapering spire. He went on through a belt of pines which -surrounded the church, and came suddenly upon the graveyard, populous -with the forgotten dead--at least, he judged they were forgotten by -the state of the tombstones. - -On the hither side he came upon a circular chapel, with lance-shaped -windows and marvelous decoration wrought in gray-stone on the outer -walls. Some distance off rose a low wall, encircling the graveyard, -and beyond the belt of pines through which he had just passed -stretched the league-long herbage of the moor. He guessed this must be -the Lady Chapel. - -Between the building and the low wall he noticed a large tomb of white -marble, surmounted by a winged angel with a trumpet. "Dick Marlow's -tomb," he surmised. Then he proceeded to walk round it as that of his -own familiar friend, for he had already half persuaded himself into -some such belief. - -But he realized very soon that he had not come hither for -sight-seeing, for his limbs ached, and his feet burned, and his eyes -were heavy with sleep. He rolled along towards a secluded corner, -where the round of the Lady Chapel curved into the main wall of the -church. There he found a grassy nook, warm and dry. He removed his -gloves with great care, placed them in his silk hat, and then took off -his boots and loosened his clothes. Finally he settled himself down -amid the grass, put a hand up either coat-sleeve for warmth, and was -soon wrapped in a sound slumber. - -He slept on undisturbed until one o'clock, when--as say out-of-door -observers--the earth turns in her slumber. This vagrant, feeling as it -were the stir of Nature, turned too. A lowing of cows came from the -moor beyond the pines. A breath of cool air swept through the -branches, and the somber boughs swayed like the plumes of a hearse. -Across the face of the sky ran a shiver. He heard distinctly what he -had not noticed before, the gush of running water. He roused himself -and sat up alert, and strained his hearing. What was it he heard now? -He listened and strained again. Voices surely! Men's voices! - -There could be no mistake. Voices he heard, though he could not catch -the words they said. A tremor shook his whole body. Then, curiosity -getting the better of his fear, he wriggled forward flat on his -stomach until he was in such a position that he could peer round the -corner of the Lady Chapel. Here he saw a sight which scared him. - -Against the white wall of the mausoleum bulked two figures, one tall, -the other short. The shorter carried a lantern. They stood on the -threshold of the iron door, and the tall man was listening. They were -nearer now, so that he could hear their talk very plainly. - -"All is quiet," said the taller man. "No one will suspect. We'll get -him away easily." - -Then Cicero heard the key grate in the lock, saw the door open and the -men disappear into the tomb. He was sick with terror, and was minded -to make a clean bolt of it; but with the greatest effort he controlled -his fears and remained. There might be money in this adventure. - -In ten minutes the men came out carrying a dark form between them, as -Cicero guessed, the dead body of Richard Marlow. They set down their -burden, made fast the door, and took up again the sinister load. He -saw them carry it towards the low stone wall. Over this they lifted -it, climbed over themselves, and disappeared into the pine-woods. - -Cicero waited until he could no longer hear the rustle of their -progress; then he crept cautiously forward and tried the door of the -tomb. It was fast locked. - -"Resurrection-men! body-snatchers!" he moaned. - -He felt shaken to his very soul by the ghastliness of the whole -proceeding. Then suddenly the awkwardness of his own position, if by -chance any one should find him there, rushed in upon his mind, and, -without so much as another glance, he made off as quickly as he could -in the opposite direction. - - - - -CHAPTER II. -THE HUT ON THE HEATH - - -"I'm glad it's all over," said the footman, waving a cigar stolen from -the box of his master. "Funerals don't suit me." - -"Yet we must all 'ave one of our own some day," said the cook, who was -plainly under the influence of gin; "an' that pore Miss Sophy--me 'art -bleeds for 'er!" - -"An' she with 'er millions," growled a red-faced coachman. "Wot rot!" - -"Come now, John, you know Miss Sophy was fond of her father"--this -from a sprightly housemaid, who was trimming a hat. - -"I dunno why," said John. "Master was as cold as ice, an' as silent as -'arf a dozen graves." - -The scullery-maid shuddered, and spread out her grimy hands. - -"Oh, Mr. John, don't talk of graves, please! I've 'ad the nightmare -over 'em." - -"Don't put on airs an' make out as 'ow you've got nerves, Cammelliar," -put in the cook tearfully. "It's me as 'as 'em--I've a bundle of -'em--real shivers. Ah, well! we're cut down like green bay-trees, to -be sure. Pass that bottle, Mr. Thomas." - -This discussion took place in the kitchen of the Moat House. The -heiress and Miss Parsh, the housekeeper, had departed for the seaside -immediately after the funeral, and in the absence of control, the -domestics were making merry. To be sure, Mr. Marlow's old and trusted -servant, Joe Brill, had been told off to keep them in order, but just -at present his grief was greater than his sense of duty. He was busy -now sorting papers in the library--hence the domestic chaos. - -It was, in truth, a cheerful kitchen, more especially at the present -moment, with the noonday sun streaming in through the open casements. -A vast apartment with a vast fireplace of the baronial hall kind; -brown oaken walls and raftered roof; snow-white dresser and huge deal -table, and a floor of shining white tiles. - -There was a moment's silence after the last unanswerable observation -of the cook. It was broken by a voice at the open door--a voice which -boomed like the drone of a bumble-bee. - -"Peace be unto this house," said the voice richly, "and plenty be its -portion." - -The women screeched, the men swore--since the funeral their nerves had -not been quite in order--and all eyes turned towards the door. There, -in the hot sunshine, stood an enormously fat old man, clothed in -black, and perspiring profusely. It was, in fact, none other than -Cicero Gramp, come in the guise of Autolycus to pick up news and -unconsidered trifles. He smiled benignly, and raised his fat hand. - -"Peace, maid-servants and men-servants," said he, after the manner of -Chadband. "There is no need for alarm. I am a stranger, and you must -take me in." - -"Who the devil are you?" queried the coachman. - -"We want no tramps here," growled the footman. - -"I am no tramp," said Cicero mildly, stepping into the kitchen. "I am -a professor of elocution and eloquence, and a friend of your late -master's. He went up in the world, I dropped down. Now I come to him -for assistance, and I find him occupying the narrow house; yes, my -friends, Dick Marlow is as low as the worms whose prey he soon will -be. Pax vobiscum!" - -"Calls master 'Dick,'" said the footman. - -"Sez 'e's an old friend," murmured the cook. - -They looked at each other, and the thought in every mind was the same. -The servants were one and all anxious to hear the genesis of their -late master, who had dropped into the Moat House, as from the skies, -some five years before. Mrs. Crammer, the cook, rose to the occasion -with a curtsy. - -"I'm sure, sir, I'm sorry the master ain't here to see you," she said, -polishing a chair with her apron. "But as you says--or as I take it -you means--'e's gone where we must all go. Take a seat, sir, and I'll -tell Joe, who's in the library." - -"Joe--my old friend Joe!" said Cicero, sitting down like a mountain. -"Ah! the faithful fellow!" - -This random remark brought forth information, which was Cicero's -intention in making it. - -"Faithful!" growled the coachman, "an' why not? Joe Brill was paid -higher nor any of us, he was; just as of living all his life with an -iceberg deserved it!" - -"Poor Dick _was_ an iceberg!" sighed Cicero pensively. "A cold, -secretive man." - -"Ah!" said Mrs. Crammer, wiping her eye, "you may well say that. He -'ad secrets, I'm sure, and guilty ones, too!" - -"We all have our skeletons, ma'am. But would you mind giving me -something to eat and to drink? for I have walked a long way. I am too -poor," said Cicero, with a sweet smile, "to ride, as in the days of my -infancy, but _spero meliora_." - -"Talking about skeletons, sir," said the footman when Mr. Gramp's jaws -were fully occupied, "what about the master's?" - -"Ah!" said Gramp profoundly. "What indeed!" - -"But whatever it is, it has to do with the West Indies," said the man. - -"Lor'!" exclaimed the housemaid, "and how do you know that, Mr. -Thomas?" - -"From observation, Jane, my dear," Thomas smiled loftily. "A week or -two afore master had the fit as took him, I brought in a letter with -the West Indy stamp. He turned white as chalk when he saw it, and tore -it open afore I could get out of the room. I 'ad to fetch a glass of -whisky. He was struck all of a 'eap--gaspin', faintin', and cussin' -orful." - -"Did he show it to Miss Sophy?" asked Mrs. Crammer. - -"Not as I knows of. He kept his business to hisself," replied Thomas. - -Gramp was taking in all this with greedy ear's. - -"Ha!" he said, "when you took in the letter, might you have looked at -the postmark, my friend?" - -With an access of color, the footman admitted that he had been curious -enough to do so. - -"And the postmark was Kingston, Jamaica," said he. - -"It recalls my youth," said Cicero. "Ah! they were happy, happy days!" - -"What was Mr. Marlow, sir?" - -"A planter of--of--rice," hazarded Gramp. He knew that there were -planters in the West Indies, but he was not quite sure what it was -they planted. "Rice--acres of it!" - -"Well, he didn't make his money out of that, sir," growled the -coachman. - -"No, he did not," admitted the professor of elocution. "He acquired -his millions in Mashonaland--the Ophir of the Jews." - -This last piece of knowledge had been acquired from Slack, the -schoolmaster. - -"He was precious careful not to part with none of it," said the -footman. - -"Except to Dr. Warrender," said the cook. "The doctor was always -screwing money out of him. Not that it was so much 'im as 'is wife. I -can't abear that doctor's wife--a stuck-up peacock, I call her. She -fairly ruined her husband in clothes. Miss Sophy didn't like her, -neither." - -"Dick's child!" cried Gramp, who had by this time procured a cigar -from the footman. "Ah! is little Sophy still alive?" - -He lighted the cigar and puffed luxuriously. - -"Still alive!" echoed Mrs. Crammer, "and as pretty as a picture. Dark -'air, dark eyes--not a bit like 'er father." - -"No," said Cicero, grasping the idea. "Dick was fair when we were -boys. I heard rumors that little Sophy was engaged--let me see--to a -Mr. Thorold." - -"Alan Thorold, Esquire," corrected the coachman gruffly; "one of the -oldest families hereabouts, as lives at the Abbey farm. He's gone with -her to the seaside." - -"To the seaside? Not to Brighton?" - -"Nothin' of the sort--to Bournemouth, if you know where that is." - -"I know some things, my friend," said Cicero mildly. "It was -Bournemouth I meant--not unlike Brighton, I think, since both names -begin with a B. I know that Miss Marlow--dear little Sophy!--is -staying at the Imperial Hotel, Bournemouth." - -"You're just wrong!" cried Thomas, falling into the trap; "she is at -the Soudan Hotel. I've got the address to send on letters." - -"Can I take them?" asked Gramp, rising. "I am going to Bournemouth to -see little Sophy and Mr. Thorold. I shall tell them of your -hospitality." - -Before the footman could reply to this generous offer, the page-boy of -the establishment darted in much excited. - -"Oh, here's a go!" he exclaimed. "Dr. Warrender's run away, an' the -Quiet Gentleman's followed!" - -"Wot d'ye mean, Billy?" - -"Wot I say. The doctor ain't bin 'ome all night, nor all mornin', an' -Mrs. Warrender's in hysterics over him. Their 'ousemaid I met shoppin' -tole me." - -The servants looked at one another. Here was more trouble, more -excitement. - -"And the Quiet Gentleman?" asked the cook with ghoulish interest. - -"He's gone, too. Went out larst night, an' never come back. Mrs. Marry -thinks he's bin murdered." - -There was a babel of voices and cries, but after a moment quiet was -restored. Then Cicero placed his hand on the boy's head. - -"My boy," he said pompously, "who is the Quiet Gentleman? Let us be -clear upon the point of the Quiet Gentleman." - -"Don't you know, sir?" put in the eager cook. "He's a mystery, 'aving -bin staying at Mrs. Marry's cottage, she a lone widder taking in -boarders." - -"I'll give a week's notice!" sobbed the scullery-maid. "These crimes -is too much for me." - -"I didn't say the Quiet Gentleman 'ad been murdered," said Billy, the -page; "but Mrs. Marry only thinks so, cos 'e ain't come 'ome.' - -"As like as not he's cold and stiff in some lonely grave!" groaned -Mrs. Crammer hopefully. - -"The Quiet Gentleman," said Cicero, bent upon acquiring further -information--"tall, yellow-bearded, with a high forehead and a bald -head?" - -"Well, I never, sir!" cried Jane, the housemaid. "If you ain't -describing Dr. Warrender! Did you know him, sir?" - -Cicero was quite equal to the occasion. - -"I knew him professionally. He attended me for a relaxed throat. I was -_vox et præterea nihil_ until he cured me. But what was this -mysterious gentleman like? Short, eh?" - -"No; tall and thin, with a stoop. Long white hair, longer beard and -black eyes like gimblets," gabbled the cook. "I met 'im arter dark one -evenin', and I declare as 'is eyes were glow-worms. Ugh! They looked -me through and through. I've never bin the same woman since." - -At this moment a raucous voice came from the inner doorway. - -"What the devil's all this?" was the polite question. - -Cicero turned, and saw a heavily-built man surveying the company in -general, and himself in particular, anything but favorably. His face -was a mahogany hue, and he had a veritable tangle of whiskers and -hair. The whole cut of the man was distinctly nautical, his trousers -being of the dungaree, and his pea-jacket plentifully sprinkled with -brass buttons. In his ears he wore rings of gold, and his clenched -fists hung by his side as though eager for any emergency, and "the -sooner the better." That was how he impressed Cicero, who, in nowise -fancying the expression on his face, edged towards the door. - -"Oh, Joe!" shrieked the cook, "wot a turn you give me! an' sich news -as we've 'ad!" - -"News!" said Joe uneasily, his eyes still on Cicero. - -"Mrs. Warrender's lost her husband, and the Quiet Gentleman's -disappeared mysterious!" - -"Rubbish! Get to your work, all of you!" - -So saying, Joe drove the frightened crowd hither and thither to their -respective duties, and Cicero, somewhat to his dismay, found himself -alone with the buccaneer, as he had inwardly dubbed the newcomer. - -"Who the devil are you?" asked Joe, advancing. - -"Fellow," replied Cicero, getting into the doorway, "I am a friend of -your late master. Cicero Gramp is my name. I came here to see Dick -Marlow, but I find he's gone aloft." - -Joe turned pale, even through his tan. - -"A friend of Mr. Marlow," he repeated hoarsely. "That's a lie! I've -been with him these thirty years, and I never saw you!" - -"Not in Jamaica?" inquired Cicero sweetly. - -"Jamaica? What do you mean?" - -"What I wrote in that letter your master received before he died." - -"Oh, you liar! I know the man who wrote it." Joe clenched his fists -more tightly and swung forward. "You're a rank impostor, and I'll hand -you over to the police, lest I smash you completely!" - -Cicero saw he had made a mistake, but he did not flinch. Hardihood -alone could carry him through now. - -"Do," he said. "I'm particularly anxious to see the police, Mr. Joe -Brill." - -"Who are you, in Heaven's name?" shouted Joe, much agitated. "Do you -come from him?" - -"Perhaps I do," answered Cicero, wondering to whom the "him" might now -refer. - -"Then go back and tell him he's too late--too late, curse him! and you -too, you lubber!" - -"Very good." Cicero stepped out into the hot sunshine. "I'll deliver -your message--for a sovereign." - -Joe Brill tugged at his whiskers, and cast an uneasy glance around. -Evidently, he was by no means astute, and the present situation was -rather too much for him. His sole idea, for some reason best known to -himself, was to get rid of Cicero. With a groan, he plunged his huge -fist into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. - -"Here, take it and go to hell!" he said, throwing it to Cicero. - -"Mariner, _fata obstant_," rolled Gramp in his deep voice. - -Then he strode haughtily away. He looked round as he turned the corner -of the house, and saw Joe clutching his iron-gray locks, still at the -kitchen door. - -So with a guinea in his pocket and a certain amount of knowledge which -he hoped would bring him many more, Cicero departed, considerable -uplifted. At the village grocery he bought bread, meat and a bottle of -whisky, then he proceeded to shake the dust of Heathton off his feet. -As he stepped out on to the moor he recalled the Latin words he had -used, and he shuddered. - -"Why did I say that?" he murmured. "The words came into my head -somehow. Just when Joe was talking of my employer, too! Who is my -employer? What has he to do with all this? I'm all in the dark! So Dr. -Warrender's gone, and the Quiet Gentleman too. It must have been Dr. -Warrender who helped to steal Marlow's body. The description tallies -exactly--tall, fair beard and bald. I wonder if t'other chap was the -Quiet Gentleman? And what on earth could they want with the body? Any -way, the body's gone, and, as it's a millionaire corpse, I'll have -some of its money or I'm a Dutchman!" - -He stopped and placed his hand to his head. - -"Bournemouth, Bournemouth!" he muttered. "Ah, that's it--the Soudan -Hotel, Bournemouth!" - -It was now the middle of the afternoon, and, as he plodded on, the -moor glowed like a furnace. No vestige of shade was there beneath -which to rest, not even a tree or a bush. Then, a short distance up -the road, he espied a hut. It seemed to be in ruins. It was a -shepherd's hut, no doubt. The grass roof was torn, the door was -broken, though closed, and the mud walls were crumbling. Impatient of -any obstacle, he shoved his back against it and burst it open. It had -been fastened with a piece of rope. He fell in, headlong almost. But -the gloom was grateful to him, though for the moment he could see but -little. - -When his eyes had become more accustomed to the half-light, the first -object upon which they fell was a stiff human form stretched on the -mud floor--a body with a handkerchief over the face. Yelling with -terror, Cicero hurled himself out again. - -"Marlow's body!" he gasped. "They've put it here!" - -With feverish haste he produced a corkscrew knife, and opened his -whisky bottle. A fiery draught gave him courage. He ventured back into -the hut and knelt down beside the body. Over the heart gaped an ugly -wound, and the clothes were caked with blood. He gasped again. - -"No fit this, but murder! Stabbed to the heart! And Joe--what does Joe -know about this--and my employer? Lord!" - -He snatched the handkerchief from the face, and fell back on his knees -with another cry, this time of wonderment rather than of terror. He -beheld the dead man's fair beard and bald head. - -"Dr. Warrender! And he was alive last night! This is murder indeed!" - -Then his nerves gave way utterly, and he began to cry like a -frightened child. - -"Murder! Wilful and horrible murder!" wept the professor of elocution -and eloquence. - - - - -CHAPTER III. -AN ELEGANT EPISTLE - - -On Bournemouth cliffs, where pine-trees cluster to the edge, sat an -elderly spinster, knitting a homely stocking. She wore, in spite of -the heat, a handsome cashmere shawl, pinned across her spare shoulders -with a portrait brooch, and that hideous variety of Early Victorian -head-gear known as the mushroom hat. From under this streamed a frizzy -crop of gray curls, which framed a rosy, wrinkled face, brightened by -twinkling eyes. These, sparkling as those of sweet seventeen, proved -that their owner was still young in heart. This quaint survival of the -last century knitted as assiduously as was possible under the -circumstances, for at a discreet distance were two young people, -towards whom she acted the part of chaperon. Doubtless such an office -is somewhat out-of-date nowadays; but Miss Victoria Parsh would rather -have died than have left a young girl alone in the company of a young -man. - -Yet she knew well enough that this young man was altogether above -reproach, and, moreover, engaged by parental consent to the pretty -girl to whom he was talking so earnestly. And no one could deny that -Sophy Marlow was indeed charming. There was somewhat of the Andalusian -about her. Not very tall, shaped delicately as a nymph, she well -deserved Alan Thorold's name. He called her the "Midnight Fairy," and, -indeed, she looked like a brunette Titania. Her complexion was dark, -and faintly flushed with red; her mouth and nose were exquisitely -shaped, while her eyes were wells of liquid light--glorious Spanish -orbs. About her, too, was that peculiar charm of personality which -defies description. - -Alan her lover, was not tall, but uncommonly well-built and muscular, -as fair as Sophy was dark--of that golden Saxon race which came before -the Dane. Not that he could be called handsome. He was simply a clean, -clear-skinned, well-groomed young Englishman, such as can be seen -everywhere. Of a strong character, he exercised great control over his -somewhat frivolous betrothed. - -Miss Vicky, as the little spinster was usually called, cast romantic -glances at the dark head and the fair one so close to one another. As -a rule she would have been shocked at such a sight, but she knew how -keenly Sophy grieved for the death of her father, and was only too -willing that the girl should be comforted. And Miss Vicky occasionally -touched the brooch, which contained the portrait of a red-coated -officer. She also had lived in Arcady, but her Lieutenant had been -shot in the Indian Mutiny, and Miss Vicky had left Arcady after a -short sojourn, for a longer one in the work-a-day world. At once, she -had lost her lover and her small income, and, like many another lonely -woman, had had to turn to and work. But the memory of that short -romance kept her heart young, hence her sympathy with this young -couple. - -"Poor dear father!" sighed Sophy, looking at the sea below, dotted -with white sails. "I can hardly believe he is gone. Only two weeks ago -and he was so well, and now--oh! I was so fond of him! We were so -happy together! He was cold to everyone else, but kindly to me! How -could he have died so suddenly, Alan?" - -"Well, of course, dear, a fit is always sudden. But try and bear up, -Sophy dear. Don't give way like this. Be comforted." - -She looked up wistfully to the blue sky. - -"At all events, he is at peace now," she said, her lip quivering. "I -know he was often very unhappy, poor father! He used to sit for hours -frowning and perplexed, as if there was something terrible on his -mind." - -Alan's face was turned away now, and his brow was wrinkled. He seemed -absorbed in thought, as though striving to elucidate some problem -suggested by her words. - -Wrapped up in her own sorrow, the girl did not notice his momentary -preoccupation, but continued: - -"He never said good-bye to me. Dr. Warrender said he was insensible -for so long before death that it was useless my seeing him. He kept me -out of the room, so I only saw him--afterwards. I'll never forgive the -doctor for it. It was cruel!" - -She sobbed hysterically. - -"Sophy," said Alan suddenly, "had your father any enemies?" - -She looked round at him in astonishment. - -"I don't know. I don't think so. Why should he? He was the kindest man -in the world." - -"I am sure he was," replied the young man warmly; "but even the -kindest may have enemies." - -"He might have made enemies in Africa," she said gravely. "It was -there he made his money, and I suppose there are people mean enough to -hate a man who is successful, especially if his success results in a -fortune of some two millions. Father used to say he despised most -people. That was why he lived so quietly at the Moat House." - -"It was particularly quiet till you came, Sophy." - -"I'm sure it was," she replied, with the glimmer of a smile. "Still, -although _he_ had not me, you had your profession." - -"Ah! my poor profession! I always regret having given it up." - -"Why did you?" - -"You know, Sophy. I have told you a dozen times. I wanted to be a -surgeon, but my father always objected to a Thorold being of service -to his fellow-creatures. I could never understand why. The estate was -not entailed, and by my father's will I was to lose it, or give up all -hope of becoming a doctor. For my mother's sake I surrendered. But I -would choose to be a struggling surgeon in London any day, if it were -not for you, Sophy dear." - -"Horrid!" ejaculated Miss Marlow, elevating her nose. "How can you -enjoy cutting up people? But don't let us talk of these things; they -remind me of poor dear father." - -"My dear, you really should not be so morbid. Death is only natural. -It is not as though you had been with him all your life, instead of -merely three years." - -"I know; but I loved him none the less for that. I often wonder why he -was away so long." - -"He was making his fortune. He could not have taken you into the rough -life he was leading in Africa. You were quite happy in your convent." - -"Quite," she agreed, with conviction. "I was sorry to leave it. The -dear sisters were like mothers to me. I never knew my own mother. She -died in Jamaica, father said, when I was only ten years old. He could -not bear to remain in the West Indies after she died, so he brought me -to England. While I was in the convent I saw him only now and again -until I had finished my education. Then he took the Moat House--that -was five years ago, and two years after that I came to live with him. -That is all our history, Alan. But Joe Brill might know if he had any -enemies." - -"Yes, he might. He lived thirty years with your father, didn't he? But -he can keep his own counsel--no one better." - -"You are good at it too, Alan. Where were you last night? You did not -come to see me." - -He moved uneasily. He had his own reasons for not wishing to give a -direct answer. - -"I went for a long walk--to--to--to think out one or two things. When -I got back it was too late to see you." - -"What troubled you, Alan? You have looked very worried lately. I am -sure you are in some trouble. Tell me, dear; I must share all you -troubles." - -"My dearest, I am in no trouble"--he kissed her hand--"but I am your -trustee, you know and it is no sinecure to have the management of two -millions." - -"It's too much money," she said. "Let us dispose of some of it, then -you need not be worried. Can I do what I like with it?" - -"Most of it--there are certain legacies, will tell you about them -later." - -"I am afraid the estate will be troublesome to us, Alan. It's strange -we should have so much money when we don't care about it. Now, there -is Dr. Warrender, working his life out for that silly extravagant wife -of his!" - -"He is very much in love with her, nevertheless." - -"I suppose that's why he works so hard. But she's a horrid woman, and -cares not a snap of her fingers for him--not to speak of love! Love! -why, she doesn't know the meaning of the word. We do!" And, bending -over, Sophy kissed him. - -Then promptly there came from Miss Parsh the reminder that it was time -for tea. - -"Very well, Vicky, I dare say Alan would like you to give him a cup," -replied Sophy. - -"Frivolous as ever, Sophia! I give up a hope of forming your -character--now!" - -"Alan is doing that," replied the girl. - -In spite of her sorrow, Sophy became fairly cheerful on the way back -to the hotel. Not so Alan. He was silent and thoughtful, and evidently -meditating about the responsibilities of the Marlow estate. As they -walked along the parade with their chaperon close behind, they came -upon a crowd surrounding a fat man dressed in dingy black. He was -reciting a poem, and his voice boomed out like a great organ. As -they passed, Alan noticed that he darted a swift glance at them, -and eyed Miss Marlow in a particularly curious manner. The recitation -was just finished, and the hat was being sent round. Sophy, always -kind-hearted, dropped in a shilling. The man chuckled. - -"Thank you, lady," said he; "the first of many I hope." - -Alan frowned, and drew his _fiancée_ away. He took little heed of the -remark at the time; but it occurred to him later, when circumstances -had arisen which laid more stress on its meaning. - -Miss Vicky presided over the tea--a gentle feminine employment in -which she excelled. She did most of the talking; for Sophy was silent, -and Alan inclined to monosyllables. The good lady announced that she -was anxious to return to Heathton. - -"The house weighs on my mind," said she, lifting her cup with the -little finger curved. "The servants are not to be trusted. I fear Mrs. -Crammer is addicted to ardent spirits. Thomas and Jane pay too much -attention to one another. I feel a conviction that, during my absence, -the bonds of authority will have loosened." - -"Joe," said Alan, setting down his cup; "Joe is a great -disciplinarian." - -"On board a ship, no doubt," assented Miss Vicky; "but a rough sailor -cannot possibly know how to control a household. Joseph is a fine, -manly fellow, but boisterous--very boisterous. It needs my eye to make -domestic matters go smoothly. When will you be ready to return, Sophy, -my dear?" - -"In a week--but Alan has suggested that we should go abroad." - -"What! and leave the servants to wilful waste and extravagance? My -love!"--Miss Vicky raised her two mittened hands--"think of the -bills!" - -"There is plenty of money, Vicky." - -"No need there should be plenty of waste. No; if we go abroad, we must -either shut up the house or let it." - -"To the Quiet Gentleman?" said Sophy, with a laugh. - -Alan looked up suddenly. - -"No, not to him. He is a mysterious person," said Miss Vicky. "I do -not like such people, though I dare say it is only village gossip -which credits him with a strange story." - -"Just so," put in Alan. "Don't trouble about him." - -Miss Vicky was still discussing the possibility of a trip abroad, when -the waiter entered with a note for Sophy. - -"It was delivered three hours ago," said the man apologetically, "and -I quite forgot to bring it up. So many visitors, miss," he added, with -a sickly smile. - -Sophy took the letter. The envelope was a thick creamy one, and the -writing of the address elegant in the extreme. - -"Who delivered it?" she asked. - -"A fat man, miss, with a red face, and dressed in black." - -Alan's expression grew somewhat anxious. - -"Surely that describes the man we saw reciting?" - -"So it does." Sophy eyed the letter dubiously. "Had he a loud voice, -Simmonds?" - -"As big as a bell, miss, and he spoke beautiful: but he wasn't gentry, -for all that," finished Simmonds with conviction. - -"You can go," said Alan. Then he turned to Sophy, who was opening the -envelope. "Let me read that letter first," he said. - -"Why, Alan? There is no need. It is only a begging letter. Come and -read it with me." - -He gave way, and looked over her shoulder the elaborate writing. - - -"Miss" (it began), - -"The undersigned, if handsomely remunerated, can give valuable -information regarding the removal of the body of the late Richard -Marlow from its dwelling in Heathton Churchyard. _Verbum dat -sapienti!_ Forward £100 to the undersigned at Dixon's Rents, Lambeth, -and the information will be forthcoming. If the minions of the law are -invoked the undersigned with vanish, and his information lost. - -"Faithfully yours, Miss Sophia Marlow, - "Cicero Gramp." - - -As she comprehended the meaning of this extraordinary letter, Sophy -became paler and paler. The intelligence that her father's body had -been stolen was too much for her, and she fainted. - -Thorold called loudly to Miss Vicky. - -"Look after her," he said, stuffing the letter into his pocket. "I -shall be back soon." - -"But what--what----" began Miss Vicky. - -She spoke to thin air. Alan was running at top speed along the parade -in search of the fat man. - -But all search was vain. Cicero, the astute, had vanished. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. -ANOTHER SURPRISE - - -Heathton was only an hour's run by rail from Bournemouth, so that it -was easy enough to get back on the same evening. On his return from -his futile search for Cicero, Alan determined to go at once to the -Moat House. He found Sophy recovered from her faint, and on hearing of -his decision, she insisted upon accompanying him. She had told Miss -Vicky the contents of the mysterious letter, and that lady agreed that -they should leave as soon as their boxes could be packed. - -"Don't talk to me, Alan!" cried Sophy, when her lover objected to this -sudden move. "It would drive me mad to stay here doing nothing, with -that on my mind." - -"But, my dear girl, it may not be true." - -"If it is not, why should that man have written? Did you see him?" - -"No. He has left the parade, and no one seems to know anything about -him. It is quite likely that when he saw us returning to the hotel he -cleared out. By this time I dare say he is on his way to London." - -"Did you see the police?" she asked anxiously. - -"No," said Alan, taking out the letter which had caused all this -trouble; "it would not be wise. Remember what he says here: If the -police are called in he will vanish, and we shall lose the information -he seems willing to supply." - -"I don't think that, Mr. Thorold," said Miss Vicky. "This man -evidently wants money, and is willing to tell the truth for the matter -of a hundred pounds." - -"On account," remarked Thorold grimly; "as plain a case of blackmail -as I ever heard of. Well, I suppose it is best to wait until we can -communicate with this--what does he call himself?--Cicero Gramp, at -Dixon's Rents, Lambeth. He can be arrested there, if necessary. What I -want to do now is to find out if his story is true. To do this I must -go at once to Heathton, see the Rector, and get the coffin opened." - -"I will come," insisted Sophy. "Oh, it is terrible to think that poor -father was not allowed to rest quietly even in his grave." - -"Of course, it may not be true," urged Alan again. "I don't see how -this tramp could have got to know of it." - -"Perhaps he helped to violate the secrets of the tomb?" suggested Miss -Vicky. - -"In that case he would hardly put himself within reach of the law," -Alan said, after a pause. "Besides, if the vault had been broken into -we should have heard of it from Joe." - -"Why should it be broken into, Alan? The key----" - -"I have one key, and the Rector has the other. My key is in my desk at -the Abbey Farm, and no doubt Phelps has his safe enough." - -"Your key may have been stolen." - -"It might have been," admitted Alan. "That is one reason why I am so -anxious to get back to-night. We must find out also if the coffin is -empty." - -"Yes, yes; let us go at once!" Sophy cried feverishly. "I shall never -rest until I learn the truth. Come, Vicky, let us pack. When can we -leave, Alan?" - -Thorold glanced at his watch. - -"In half an hour," he said. "We can catch the half-past six train. Can -you be ready?" - -"Yes, yes!" cried she, and rushed out of the room. - -Miss Vicky was about to follow, but Alan detained her. - -"Give her a sedative or something," he said, "or she will be ill." - -"I will at once. Have a carriage at the door in a quarter of an hour, -Mr. Thorold. We can be ready by then. I suppose it is best she should -go?" - -"Much better than to leave her here. We must set her mind at rest. At -this rate she will work herself into a fever." - -"But if this story should really be true?" - -"I don't believe it for a moment," replied Alan. But he was evidently -uneasy, and could not disguise the feeling. "Wait till we get to -Heathton--wait," and he hastily left the room. - -Miss Vicky was surprised at his agitation, for hitherto she had -credited Alan with a will strong enough to conceal his emotions. The -old lady hurried away to the packing, and shook her head as she went. - -Shortly they were settled in a first-class carriage on the way to -Heathton. Sophy was suffering acutely, but did all in her power to -hide her feelings, and, contrary to Alan's expectations, hardly a word -was spoken about the strange letter, and the greater part of the -journey was passed in silence. At Heathton he put Sophy and Miss Vicky -into a fly. - -"Drive at once to the Moat House," he said. "To-morrow we shall -consider what is to be done." - -"And you, Alan?" - -"I am going to see Mr. Phelps. He, if any one, will know what value to -put upon that letter. Try and sleep, Sophy. I shall see you in the -morning." - -"Sleep?" echoed the poor girl, in a tone of anguish. "I feel as though -I should never sleep again!" - -When they had driven away, Alan took the nearest way to the -Rectory. It was some way from the station, but Alan was a vigorous -walker, and soon covered the distance. He arrived at the door with a -beating heart and dry lips, feeling, he knew not why, that he was -about to hear bad news. The gray-haired butler ushered him into his -master's presence, and immediately the young man felt that his fears -were confirmed. Phelps looked worried. - -He was a plump little man, neat in his dress and cheerful in manner. -He was a bachelor, and somewhat of a cynic. Alan had known him all his -life, and could have found no better adviser in the dilemma in which -he now found himself. Phelps came forward with outstretched hands. - -"My dear boy, I am indeed glad! What good fairy sent you here? A glass -of port? You look pale. I am delighted to see you. If you had not come -I should have had to send for you." - -"What do you wish to see me about, sir? asked Alan. - -"About the disappearance of these two people." - -"What two people?" asked the young man, suddenly alert. "You forget -that I have been away from Heathton for the last three days." - -"Of course, of course. Well, one is Brown, the stranger who stayed -with Mrs. Marry." - -"The Quiet Gentleman?" - -"Yes. I heard them call him so in the village. A very doubtful -character. He never came to church," said the Rector sadly. "However, -it seems he has disappeared. Two nights ago--in fact, upon the evening -of the day upon which poor Marlow's funeral took place, he left his -lodgings for a walk. Since then," added the Rector impressively, "he -has not returned." - -"In plain words, he has taken French leave," said Thorold, filling his -glass. - -"Oh, I should not say that, Alan. He paid his weekly account the day -before he vanished. He left his baggage behind him. No, I don't think -he intended to run away. Mrs. Marry says he was a good lodger, -although she knew very little about him. However, he has gone, and his -box remains. No one saw him after he left the village about eight -o'clock. He was last seen by Giles Hale passing the church in the -direction of the moor. To-day we searched the moor, but could find no -trace of him. Most mysterious," finished the Rector, and took some -port. - -"Who is the other man?" asked Alan abruptly. - -"Ah! Now you must be prepared for a shock, Alan. Dr. Warrender!" - -Thorold bounded out of his seat. - -"Is he lost too?" - -"Strangely enough, he is," answered Phelps gravely. "On the night of -the funeral he went out at nine o'clock in the evening to see a -patient. He never came back." - -"Who was the patient?" - -"That is the strangest part of it. Brown, the Quiet Gentleman, was the -patient. Mrs. Warrender, who, as you may guess, is quite distracted, -says that her husband told her so. Mrs. Marry declares that the doctor -called after nine, and found Brown was absent." - -"What happened then?" demanded Alan, who had been listening eagerly to -this tale. - -"Dr. Warrender, according to Mrs. Marry, asked in what direction her -lodger had gone. She could not tell him, so, saying he would call -again in an hour or so, he went. And, of course, he never returned." - -"Did Brown send for him?" - -"Mrs. Marry could not say. Certainly no message was sent through her." - -"Was Brown ill?" - -"Not at all, according to his landlady. We have been searching for -both Brown and Warrender, but have found no traces of either." - -"Humph!" said Thorold, after a pause. "I wonder if they met and went -away together?" - -"My dear lad, where would they go to?" objected the Rector. - -"I don't know; I can't say. The whole business is most mysterious." -Alan stopped, and looked sharply at Mr. Phelps. "Have you the key of -the Marlow vault in your possession?" - -"Yes, of course, locked in my safe. Your question is most -extraordinary." - -The other smiled grimly. - -"My explanation is more extraordinary still." He took out Mr. Gramp's -letter and handed it to the Rector. "What do you think of that, sir?" - -"Most elegant caligraphy," said the good man. "Why, bless me!" He read -on hurriedly, and finally dropped the letter with a bewildered air. -"Bless me, Alan!" he stammered. "What--what--what----" - -Thorold picked it up and smoothed it out on the table. - -"You see, this man says the body has been stolen. Do you know if the -door of the vault has been broken open?" - -"No, no, certainly not!" cried the Rector, rising fussily. "Come to my -study, Alan; we must see if it is all right. It must be," he added -emphatically. "The key of the safe is on my watch-chain. No one can -open it. Oh dear! Bless me!" - -He bustled out of the room, followed by Alan. - -A search into the interior of the safe resulted in the production of -the key. - -"You see," cried Phelps, waving it triumphantly, "it is safe. The door -could not have been opened with this. Now your key." - -"My key is in my desk at the Abbey Farm--locked up also," said the -young man hastily. "I'll see about it to-night. In the meantime, sir, -bring that key with you, and we will go into the vault." - -"What for?" demanded the Rector sharply. "Why should we go there?" - -"Can't you understand?" said Alan impatiently. "I want to find out if -this letter is true or false--if the body of Mr. Marlow has been -removed." - -"But I--I--can't!" gasped the Rector. "I must apply to the bishop -for----" - -"Nonsense, sir! We are not going to exhume the body. It's not like -digging up a grave. All that is necessary is to look at the coffin -resting in its niche. We can tell from the screws and general -appearance if it has been tampered with." - -The clergyman sat down and wiped his bald head. - -"I don't like it," he said. "I don't like it at all. Still, I don't -suppose a look at the coffin can harm any one. We'll go, Alan, we'll -go; but I must take Jarks." - -"The sexton?" - -"Yes. I want a witness--two witnesses; you are one, Jarks the other. -It is a gruesome task that we have before us." He shuddered again. "I -don't like it. Profanation!" - -"If this letter is to be believed, the profanation has already been -committed." - -"Cicero Gramp," repeated Mr. Phelps as they went out. "Who is he?" - -"A fat man--a tramp--a reciter. I saw him at Bournemouth. He delivered -that letter at the hotel himself; the waiter described him, and as the -creature is a perfect Falstaff, I recalled his face--I had seen him on -the parade. I went at once to see if I could find him, but he was -gone." - -"A fat man," said the Rector. "Humph! He was at the Good Samaritan the -other night. I'll tell you about him later." - -The two trudged along in silence and knocked up Jarks, the sexton, on -the way. They had no difficulty in rousing him. He came down at once -with a lantern, and was much surprised to learn the errand of Rector -and squire. - -"Want to have a look at Muster Marlow's vault," said he in creaking -tones. "Well, it ain't a bad night for a visit, I do say. But quiet -comp'ny, Muster Phelps and Muster Thorold, very quiet. What do ye want -to see Muster Marlow for?" - -"We want to see if his body is in the vault," said Alan. - -"Why, for sure it's there, sir. Muster Marlow don't go visiting." - -"I had a letter at Bournemouth, Jarks, to say the body had been -stolen." - -Jarks stared. - -"It ain't true!" he cried in a voice cracked with passion. "It's -casting mud on my 'arning my bread. I've bin sexton here fifty year, -man and boy--I never had no corp as was stolen. They all lies -comfortable arter my tucking them in. Only Gabriel's trump will wake -'em." - -By this time they were round the Lady Chapel, and within sight of the -tomb. Phelps, too much agitated to speak, beckoned to Jarks to hold up -the lantern, which he did, gram bling and muttering the while. - -"I've buried hundreds of corps," he growled, "and not one of 'em's -goed away. What 'ud they go for? I make 'em comfortable, I do." - -"Hold the light steady, Jarks," said the Rector, whose own hand was -just as unsteady. He could hardly get the key into the lock. - -At last the door was open, and headed by Jarks with the lantern, they -entered. The cold, earthy smell, the charnel-house feeling shook the -nerves of both men. Jarks, accustomed as he was to the presence of the -dead, hobbled along without showing any emotion other than wrath, and -triumphantly swung the lantern towards a niche wherein reposed a -coffin. - -"Ain't he there quite comfortable?" wheezed he. "Don't I tell you they -never goes from here! It's a lovely vault; no corp 'ud need a finer." - -"Wait a bit!" said Alan, stepping forward. "Turn the light along the -top of the coffin, Jarks. Hullo! the lid's loose!" - -"An' unscrewed!" gasped the sexton. "He's bin getting out." - -"Unscrewed--loose!" gasped the Rector in his turn. The poor man felt -deadly sick. "There must be some mistake." - -"No mistake," said Alan, slipping back the lid. "The body has been -stolen." - -"No 't'ain't!" cried Jarks, showering the light on the interior of the -coffin. "There he is, quiet an'--why," the old man broke off with a -cry, "the corp ain't in his winding-sheet!" - -Phelps looked, Alan looked. The light shone on the face of the dead. - -Phelps groaned. - -"Merciful God!" he groaned, "it is Dr. Warrender's body!" - - - - -CHAPTER V. -A NINE DAYS' WONDER - - -There was sensation enough and to spare in Heathton next morning. -Jarks lost no time in spreading the news. He spent the greater part of -the day in the taproom of the Good Samaritan, accepting tankards of -beer and relating details of the discovery. Mrs. Timber kept him as -long as she could; for Jarks, possessed of intelligence regarding the -loss of Mr. Marlow's body, attracted customers. These, thirsty for -news or drink, or both, flocked like sheep into the inn. - -"To think that a corp of mine should be gone!" creaked he in his aged -voice. "Man and boy, I niver heard tell of such things--niver! Why -Muster Marlow should go beats me--ay, that it does!" - -"It doesn't beat me," cried Mrs. Timber in her most acidulated voice. -"I know who took the body." - -"That you don't!" contradicted Jarks incoherently; "fur passon, he -don't know, so I don't know as how you'd know, Mrs. Timber." - -"It was that fat play-actor out of this very house," snapped the -landlady. - -"And how can you prove that, Mrs. Timber?" asked the sexton -contemptuously. - -"Why, he had no money for a bed, and he had to sleep in the open. I -dare say he slept in the churchyard, and stole the body to sell it -back again, it being well known as Miss Sophy's a Queen of Sheba for -riches." - -"All very well," said Slack the schoolmaster; "but if he took away Mr. -Marlow's body, how did he put Dr. Warrender's in its place? And how -could he without the key of the vault?" - -"No," said the stonemason, "he couldn't get into that there vault -without a key. I built him myself, me and my mates. If that fat man -put the doctor there, he must have killed him. There's a hole in his -heart as you could put your fist in. It's murder!" cried the man, -dashing his hand on the table, "sacrilege and murder!" - -It took a good many tankards of Mrs. Timber's strong ale to wash down -the sinister word "murder." Every point of the matter was discussed, -but no one could arrive at any decision. Slack voiced the general -sentiment when he rose to go. - -"We must wait for the police," said Slack. - -But Alan Thorold was of the contrary opinion. He did not wish to wait -for the police, or to have anything to do with the police. The -difficulty was that he could not get the Rector to take this view, and -the next morning Mr. Phelps sent the village constable for the -inspector at Burchester, the big market town twenty miles away across -the heath. Meantime, at an early hour, Alan presented himself at the -Moat House. He broke the news as gently as he could. Both Sophy and -Miss Vicky were horrified. - -"To think of such things taking place in a Christian graveyard!" cried -the little woman, wringing her hands. "Sacrilege and murder! It makes -one believe in the existence of atheists and anarchists, and such-like -dreadful people--it does, indeed!" - -Contrary to Thorold's expectation, Sophy proved to be the more -composed of the two. She neither wept nor fainted, but, very pale and -very still, listened to all that he had to say. When he had finished, -she had only one question to ask. - -"Who did it?" she demanded in the calmest voice. - -"I can't say--I don't know," stammered Alan, taken aback by her -attitude generally. "We must find out. If your father had enemies--but -even an enemy would have had no object in doing this." - -"What about the man in Bournemouth?" - -"Cicero Gramp? I intend to go up to London to-morrow and see him. If -he can tell the truth, it will be well worth the money he demands." - -"So I think, Alan. Can't you go to-day?" - -He shook his head. - -"There is so much to do here, Sophy. The Rector has gone to break the -news of her husband's death to Mrs. Warrender. And he has sent over to -Burchester for the police. The inspector--Blair is his name--will be -here at noon. I did not want the police brought into the matter, but -Mr. Phelps insisted." - -"Why did you not want to consult the police?" - -"I am afraid if this vagabond gets wind that the law has intervened he -may give us the slip. However, I shall go up to Dixon's Rents first -thing in the morning, before the case gets into the papers." - -"Do you think this man Gramp has anything to do with the murder, and -with the removing of poor father's body?" - -"No, I don't," replied Alan promptly. "He would not dare to give -evidence if he were. I hear that he was turned out of the Good -Samaritan on the night of the funeral. It is likely enough that he saw -the removal of the body, and possibly the murder. Naturally, such a -creature as that wants to sell his information. He is a blackmailer, -this man, but I don't credit him with murder or bodysnatching." - -"Body-snatching!" cried Miss Vicky, who was dabbing her red eyes with -eau-de-Cologne. "Oh, the terrible word!" - -"Alan," said Sophy, after a pause, "do you believe the man who took my -father's body killed Dr. Warrender?" - -"I do. Warrender was out on that night, and might have come across the -man carrying away the body, and the murder might have arisen out of -that." - -"How do you know Dr. Warrender was out?" cross-examined Sophy. - -"Mrs. Warrender told the Rector so. Warrender went to see the Quiet -Gentleman, but not finding him in, said that he would return. He never -did, and now we know the reason." - -"Why don't you make certain whether he saw the Quiet Gentleman?" - -"Brown? That's impossible; he also has disappeared." - -"Who was he?" - -"I don't know," said Alan gloomily. - -"Does any one know?" - -"Not to my knowledge. Perhaps the police may find out. Sophy, what is -the matter?" - -For the girl was clapping her hands and laughing hysterically. - -"It was Brown who took my father's body and killed the doctor!" she -cried. "I am certain of it!" - -"Why are you certain?" - -"I feel it. I can't say why." - -"But your father did not know this man. I never heard him allude to -the Quiet Gentleman." - -"I dare say not," returned Sophy doggedly; "but if the man had nothing -to do with it, why should he disappear? And Dr. Warrender went to see -him. Oh! I am sure he is the guilty person. He might be an enemy of -father's." - -"Sophia, your father did not know him," put in Miss Vicky, who was -listening open-mouthed to all this. - -"Oh, I am not so sure of that!" cried the girl impatiently. "If he -did, Joe will know. Ring the bell for him." - -"Did Joe know the Quiet Gentleman?" Alan asked when he had rung. - -"I do not think that Joseph did," said Miss Vicky. "He told me that he -tried several times to speak to him, but got no reply." - -"I don't wonder at that," replied the young man dryly; "the man was -dumb." - -"Dumb!" echoed the ladies. - -"Didn't you know? Ah, well, perhaps not. I didn't know myself until -the Rector told me last night. Yes, he was dumb--that was why the -village called him the Quiet Gentleman. Oh, here is Joe!" - -"Joe," said Sophy, going directly to the point, "have you heard -about----" - -"Yes, miss," said Joe, interrupting to save her mentioning so painful -a subject, "I know, and if I find the swab as did it, I'll kill him." - -Joe said this in a quietly savage way, which made Miss Vicky shudder. - -"Have you any idea who carried off the body, Joe?" - -"No, sir, I have not--but," added the man grimly, "I'm going to look -for him." - -The old maid shuddered again at the expression in his bloodshot eyes. - -"'Vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith the Lord,'" she put in -severely. - -"All werry good," said Mr. Brill, "but I guess the Lord needs an -instrument to carry out that text." He spat on his hands and added -slowly, "I'm that instrument!" - -"Had my father any enemies that you know of, Joe?" - -"No, miss, not that I knowed of. He had rows, as a man should, had the -Cap'n, but I don't know any swab as 'ud have stolen his corpse." - -"And murdered Dr. Warrender," said Alan, who was watching the man. - -"As you say, sir," replied the sailor calmly, "and murdered Dr. -Warrender. No, I can't rightly call any one to mind." - -"Did you know the Quiet Gentleman, Joe?" - -"I did not, miss. Brown he called hisself--leastways, Mrs. Marry told -me so, for Brown had no tongue. I tried to pass the time o' day, -meeting him friendly like on the road, but he only put his hand to his -mouth and shook his white head. I don't know nothing about him." - -"Do you know a tramp named Cicero Gramp?" asked Alan, after a pause. - -"Well, I did in a way." Joe drew his huge hand across his mouth, and -seemed to be considering his reply. "In this way, sir. He comed here -to the kitchen and put 'em all wrong with his lies. I kicked him -out--leastways, I giv 'im something to take 'imself orf." - -"What did he come here for?" - -Joe clenched his teeth and frowned dreadfully. - -"I wish I knowed, I'd ha' broken his cocoanut!" said he. "He was a -liar, miss, savin' your presence. Said 'e knowed your father, the -Cap'n, which," said Joe slowly, "was a d----d lie--beggin' your -pardon, miss." - -"Said he knew my father?" echoed Sophy anxiously. "What did he know -about him?" - -"Nothin'," replied Joe firmly. "Make your mind easy, miss--nothin'." - -It seemed to Alan as though the old sailor wished to intimate that -there really was something in Marlow's past which might be known, but -that the tramp was ignorant of it. He evidently wanted to reassure the -girl, yet Alan was well aware that Sophy knew practically nothing of -her father's life. He resolved to try the effect of a surprise. - -"Joe," said he slowly, "it was this tramp who told me the body had -been stolen." - -Joe's hard, shiny hat, which he had been twisting nervously in his -hands, fell to the ground. His face was a dark crimson when he stooped -to pick it up, and he stammered: - -"Hi, sir! that--that lubber. How did he know?" - -"That I have to find out. He offers to sell the information for a -hundred pounds." - -Joe rubbed his hands and looked ferocious. - -"What I want to know, sir, is, where is the swab?" - -"In London. I'm going up to see him to-morrow." - -"This afternoon," put in Sophy sharply. "You are going this afternoon, -Alan." - -"Certainly, my dear," Alan said promptly; "I'll go this afternoon--if -the police don't want me." - -"The police!" gasped Joe, shifting nervously from one leg to the -other. - -"Yes." Alan darted a keen glance at him. "Mr. Phelps has sent for the -police to investigate this murder of Dr. Warrender." - -"Well, I hope they'll find him, sir," said Joe, recovering his -stolidity, "for I make no doubt that the swab as killed the doctor -carried off the Cap'n's body." - -"So I think, Joe, and I am going to London to find out from Cicero -Gramp." - -"You'll find he'll tell you that the Quiet Gentleman killed Dr. -Warrender," put in Sophy. - -The old sailor choked, and looked at her with absolute terror. - -"How do you know that, miss?" he asked. - -"I only think so. The Quiet Gentleman has disappeared. Probably he -killed the doctor, and then took my father's body." - -"It might be so, miss. If I find him----" - -Joe repeated his former savage declaration, and Miss Vicky duly -shuddered. - -"Then you can't help us in any way, Joe?" said Alan, eying him -thoughtfully. - -"No, sir, I can't. I don't know who carried off the Cap'n, and I don't -know who stabbed the doctor. If I did, I'd kill him. When you find -him, sir, let me know." - -After which speech the old sailor again pulled his forelock, scraped -his foot, and rolled out of the room. He appeared somewhat relieved to -get away. - -Alan did not quite know what to make of Joe. The man was so nervous -that it seemed as though he knew something and was afraid of -committing himself. On the other hand, this sailor was devoted to -Sophy, and had been in Marlow's service for thirty years. It was only -reasonable to conclude, therefore, that he would wish her to benefit -by any knowledge he might possess. On the whole, Alan was perplexed, -but he kept it to himself, determining, nevertheless, to keep an eye -on Joe. When the door was closed, Sophy turned to Alan. - -"Alan," she said slowly, "I love you dearly, as you know, and I wish -to become your wife. But I swear by the memory of my father that until -you find out who has done this wicked thing and bring the man to -justice, I will not marry you!" - -"Sophy!" cried Thorold entreatingly. - -"I mean what I say," repeated the girl, in a low, fierce voice. "We -must avenge my father. When the wretch is caught and hanged, then I'll -marry you, Alan." - -"Sophia, a marriage under such circumstances----" - -"Miss Parsh," cried Sophy, turning on the meek old maid, "do you think -I can sit down tamely under this insult to the dead? My father's body -has been carried off. It must be found again before I marry--before I -can think of marriage, Alan." - -"Sophy is right," cried Thorold, drawing the girl to him and kissing -her. "She is right, Miss Parsh. I swear also that I will devote my -life to solving this mystery. Your father's body shall be brought -back, Sophy, and the murderer of Dr. Warrender shall hang. Good-bye, -dear. To-day I go to London. The first step towards the discovery of -this crime will be to see Cicero Gramp. He may supply the clue." - -"Yes, yes. Bribe him; pay him anything, so long as you get at the -truth." - -Alan kissed the girl again, and then left the room. Before he started, -he intended to see the Rector and the local inspector of police. As he -stepped out on to the road, he noticed Phelps coming along in the hot -sunshine. The little parson was puffing and blowing and wiping his -forehead. - -"Alan! Alan!" he called out in short gasps as he came within speaking -distance. "She's gone! She's gone to----" - -"She! Gone! Who's gone? Where?" - -"Why, Mrs. Warrender! She's disappeared. Oh, dear me; how terrible all -this is! Whew!" - - - - -CHAPTER VI. -THE MISSING KEY. - - -So excited was the little parson that Alan feared lest he should take -a fit. The Good Samaritan was no great distance away, so thither he -led him, into Mrs. Timber's private parlor. - -"Now, sir," said Alan, when his old tutor seemed somewhat more -composed, "tell me all about Mrs. Warrender." - -But before Mr. Phelps could reply, the vixenish landlady made her -appearance. She was highly honored at seeing the Rector within her -doors, and curtsied a hint for orders. And, in truth, the little -clergyman, undone with excitement, was quite ready to stimulate his -jaded nerves. - -"Eh, Mrs. Timber?" he said. "Yes; you might get us a little Cognac, I -think. Old; the best you have, Mrs. Timber, and a jug of fresh-drawn -water from the well, please. Alan?" - -"I'll join you," said young Thorold promptly. - -He, too, felt that he was in nowise beyond reach of a little -stimulant. - -Silent for once in her life, Mrs. Timber brought of her best, which, -be it said, was passing good. Mr. Phelps lost no time in brewing his -measure and drank it down with gusto. - -"That's good, Alan, my boy; very good," said he, setting down the -tumbler with a sigh of relief. "God forgive me, I fear to think -what my good brethren would say did they see their Rector in a -public-house! though to be sure the Good Samaritan is a most -respectable hostelry. But, Alan, why did you bring me here?" - -"Indeed, sir, I feared you would be ill out there in the blazing sun. -I did only what I thought wise. But about Mrs. Warrender--you say she -has disappeared?" - -"Eh, yes." Mr. Phelps wiped his bald head vigorously. "I went to break -the news to her after you had gone to see Sophy, and I found she had -left for London." - -"London? Why London?" - -"That is just what I wanted to know, my dear Alan. It seems she -received last night a letter which threw her into a state of great -excitement. She was bad enough that way, as it was, the servant said; -but this letter, it appears, drove her into a perfect frenzy." - -"Do you know what was in the letter?" - -"I asked that--oh, trust me, Alan, to be precise about details--but -the servant said she did not know. Mrs. Warrender put it in her -pocket. That spoke volumes from the servant's point of view. All night -long, it appears, she was walking about the room using the most -fearful language--God forgive her!--and this morning at eight o'clock -she started off to catch the 9.30 express at the Junction." - -"And is she coming back?" - -"That I don't know, my boy." - -Mr. Phelps looked round cautiously and lowered his voice to a whisper. - -"She took her jewels with her." - -"Her jewels?" - -"Yes; she had a quantity of jewelry. She put all the money she could -get from her husband into clothes and diamonds--a most extravagant -woman, Alan. Well, she's gone, that's certain, jewels and all. She -left no address, and said no word about returning. What do you think -of it?" - -"Upon my word, sir, I don't know what to think. The whole place has -gone mad, it seems to me; the entire village is topsy-turvy. Marlow's -body stolen, Warrender murdered, and his body placed in poor Marlow's -coffin; and now here is Mrs. Warrender cleared out significantly with -her jewels; and the Quiet Gentleman----" - -"Brown, the dumb man? What about him? I know he, too, has vanished; -but what else?" - -"I'm going to tell you, sir. The key of the vault----" - -"Not your key, Alan?" - -"Yes, my key, Mr. Phelps; the Quiet Gentleman has it!" - -"God bless me--that is, God forgive me, Alan, are you mad too?" - -"No, sir, not yet; though I admit I'm fairly on the way, with all -this. Tell me, do you know who this so-called Quiet Gentleman really -is?" - -"No, Alan, I don't. I spoke to him, but found he was dumb. Now he too -is gone." - -"Yes, with Marlow's body on his hands, and Warrender's death on his -soul!" - -"You don't mean that! Are you sure?" - -Mr. Phelps was greatly agitated. - -"I go only by circumstantial evidence, it is true. You know, of -course, the funeral of Mr. Marlow took place in the morning?" - -"Yes, yes; and at two o'clock you took Sophy and Miss Parsh to -Bournemouth." - -"I did. Well, about five o'clock, Brown--we'll call him that instead -of the Quiet Gentleman, though I don't believe it really is his -name--well, about that time Brown walked over to Abbey Farm. He -brought a letter purporting to come from me to my housekeeper, Mrs. -Hester." - -"From you, Alan?" - -"Yes, the letter was forged," said Alan with emphasis. "It directed -Mrs. Hester to allow Brown to remain at the farm until I returned. It -was in my handwriting, and signed with my name. She knew nothing about -Brown, save that he was staying at Mrs. Marry's, and she thought it -somewhat strange he should come to stop at the farm during my absence. -But as the instructions in the letter were quite plain, and she knew -my handwriting well--that shows how expert the forgery was--she gave -Brown the run of the place. In the meantime she wrote to me at -Bournemouth asking me if all was right, and inclosed the forged -letter. Here it is!" - -As he saw the handwriting, Mr. Phelps started. - -"Upon my word, Alan, I don't wonder Mrs. Hester was deceived, -especially when you consider her sight is not good! Why, I myself -with my eyes should certainly take it for yours." (Mr. Phelps wore -pince-nez, but nevertheless resented any aspersion on his optical -powers.) "But why on earth didn't she telegraph to you?" - -"Well, you know how old-fashioned and conservative she is, sir. She -makes out through the Scriptures--how, I cannot tell you--that the -telegraph is a sinful institution. Therefore it is not to be wondered -at that she trusted to the post. I got her letter only this morn as, -of course, it followed me on from Bournemouth. Nevertheless, I knew -about the loss of the key last night." - -"Ah! the loss of the key. Yes, go Alan." - -"Very well. Brown, being allowed to remain in my house, proceeded to -make him quite at home in the library. Mrs. Hester writing her -letter--no easy task for her--took no further heed of him. He was in -the room for quite an hour, and amused himself, appears, in breaking -open my desk. Having forced several of the drawers, he found at last -the one he wanted--the one containing the key of the vault. Then he -made all things beautifully smooth, so that Mrs. Hester should not see -they had been tampered with, and leaving a message that he would -return to dinner, went out ostensibly for a walk. He returned, -appears, to his lodging, and left there again about nine o'clock in -the evening. Since then nothing has been seen or heard of him." - -"God bless me, Alan! are you sure he has the key?" - -"Positive. I looked in my desk last night and it was not there. But -everything was done so nicely that I am strongly of the opinion that -Mr. Brown has served his apprenticeship as a cracksman, and that under -a pretty good master too. No one but he could have stolen that key. -Besides, the forged letter shows plainly that he came to the farm with -no honest intentions. But what I can't understand," continued Alan, -biting his mustache, "is how the man came to know where the key was." - -"Extraordinary--yes, that is extraordinary. Undoubtedly he it was who -stole the body and gained access to the vault with your key. But the -murder of Dr. Warrender----" - -"He committed that too; I am convinced of it. Warrender called to see -him, found he was out, and I have no doubt followed him. He probably -saw Brown remove the body, and of course interfered, upon which the -villain made short work of him. That is my theory, sir." - -"And a very sound one, too, in many respects," said the Rector. "But -Brown could not have removed the body alone. He must have had an -accomplice." - -"True; and it is for that very reason I am going to town this -afternoon. Cicero Gramp may be able to supply some information on that -point. It is quite possible he slept in the churchyard and saw the -whole business--murder and all." - -"Alan! Alan!" cried Mr. Phelps, horrified. "Do you believe this murder -was committed on the sacred soil of the churchyard, in God's own acre, -Alan? No one, surely, could be so vile!" - -"I do, sir; and at the door of the vault. Brown, as you say yourself, -cleverly concealed the body in Marlow's coffin. He had no time to -screw it down again, apparently. He must have had a pretty tough job -to cut through that lead. He had to trust to chance, of course, that -the vault would not be visited until he had got a safe distance away -with his booty. And, indeed, but for Gramp's letter, no one would ever -have thought of going there. In fact, this Brown is a most ingenious -and dangerous criminal." - -"He is; indeed he is. But what could he possibly want the body for?" - -"Ha! that's just it! I fancy this is a case of blackmail. If you -remember, a millionaire's body was stolen in America some few years -ago, and only restored to the family on payment by them of a very -large sum of money." - -"Oh, that is what you think he is after?" - -"Yes, I do. It is highly probable, I think, that in a few weeks, or -perhaps even in less time, we shall receive a letter demanding some -thousands for the return of the body." - -"But surely the police----" - -"Oh, Mr. Brown will look after all that. You may depend upon it he'll -make himself quite safe before he goes that far. So talented a -gentleman as he would not be likely to omit all necessary precautions -of that kind." - -"Humph!" muttered Mr. Phelps, considering, "and of Mrs. Warrender's -suspicious flight, what think you?" - -"I confess I don't know quite what to make of that. I have no great -opinion of her as a woman; still, I should hardly credit her with -being in league with this ruffian." - -"No, indeed; for that, she must needs be the worst of women," said Mr. -Phelps with warmth. "Why, Alan, poor Warrender was simply crazy about -her. He worked day and night to provide her with the finery she craved -for. Besides, she seemed really fond of him." - -"Who was she?" asked Alan bluntly. - -"Well, I shouldn't like to say it to every one, Alan, but Mrs. -Warrender had been an actress." - -"An actress! Under what name?" - -"That I cannot tell you. I called there one day and I heard her -reciting Shakespeare. Her elocution seemed to me so fine that I -complimented her upon it. Then she told me that she had been on the -stage, and had retired when she married Warrender." - -"That's very strange! I always thought she had somewhat of a -professional manner about her." - -"And her hair, Alan! _Flava coma_--yellow hair; not that I mean, for -one moment, she was what the Romans referred to by these words. Well, -my boy, what is to be done now?" - -"I am going up to London in an hour's time." - -Alan glanced at his watch while speaking. - -"But you'll miss seeing Blair, the inspector," remonstrated Mr. -Phelps. - -"I'll see him when I return: you can explain the case as well as I, -sir. I shall bring Gramp back with me if I can manage it." - -"And Mrs. Warrender--shall I tell Blair about her?" - -"I fear you must. But let him be circumspect. It is not necessary to -take any steps against her until we are tolerably sure of the reason -for her sudden flight. When do they hold the inquest on Warrender?" - -"To-morrow." - -"Well, I'll be back to-night and tell you what I've done." And Alan -rose to go. - -"One moment, my dear boy. What about Sophy?" - -"I've seen her, and, of course, I was judicious in what I told her. -She knows nothing about the loss of the key and my suspicions of -Brown, although, funnily enough, she herself suspects him." - -"Bless me! on what grounds can she do that?" - -"Oh, on the purely feminine grounds that she suspects him. She -declares she will not marry me until her father's body is discovered." - -"Very right; very proper. I quite agree with her. You should start -your married life with an absolutely clean sheet, Alan." - -The young man nodded, and as he left the inn he delivered himself of -one warning. - -"Whatever you do, keep your eye on Joe Brill," he said significantly. - -"Why--why? What for?" - -"Because I fancy he knows a good deal more than he is inclined to -tell," replied Alan. - -Then, without further comment, he drove off, leaving the Rector -considerably bewildered at this abrupt interpolation of a fresh name -into the persons of the drama. - -Meanwhile, Alan caught his train, and in due time, or a very fair -approach to it, arrived in London. He took a hasty lunch at Waterloo, -and drove to Westminster Bridge. Here he dismissed his cab, and set -about inquiring for Dixon's Rents. The slum--its name was highly -suggestive of its being such--appeared to be well known. The first -constable he asked was both familiar with and communicative about it. - -"It's within easy distance of Lambeth Palace, sir," he said. "A bit -rough by night, but you'll be all right there in the daytime. Ask any -constable near by the Palace, sir, and he'll put you right. Thank you, -sir." - -Alan left the officer of the law well pleased with his unlooked-for -half-crown, and walked on towards the Palace. The second constable -could not leave his beat, but the bestowal of another half-crown -elicited from him the practical suggestion that a certain young -shoeblack of repute should act as guide. The shoeblack was quite near -at hand, and very shortly was enrolled as guide for the occasion. -Together he and Alan started off, leaving the constable well content, -though withal a trifle mystified, not to say curious. - -The shoeblack led the way, and Alan followed closely. They turned away -from the river into a mass of houses, where the streets became more -and more squalid, and the population more and more ragged and unkempt. -At length, after many twistings and turnings, they arrived at the -entrance to a narrow cul-de-sac, and he was informed that this was his -destination. He rewarded and dismissed the shoeblack, and proceeded -down the dirty lane. Almost the first person he saw was a tall woman -standing at the entrance of the court, closely veiled. She seemed to -be hesitating whether she would come on or not. Then, suddenly, she -threw up her veil. As she did so Alan uttered an exclamation of -surprise. - -It was Mrs. Warrender! - - - - -CHAPTER VII. -IN DIXON'S RENTS. - - -At the sound of Alan's voice Mrs. Warrender started like a guilty -thing. He was astonished beyond measure at finding her in the same -unsavory neighborhood as himself, bound, for all he knew, on the same -errand. At all events, it was surely more than a coincidence that she -should be on the threshold of Gramp's dwelling, so to speak. - -"Mrs. Warrender," he said, gravely lifting his hat, "this is indeed a -surprise. Of course, you know what has happened at Heathton?" - -"I know all," answered the woman, in a rich, low voice. "Jarks, the -sexton, told my servant this morning what has happened to poor Julian, -and that his body has been found in the Marlow vault." - -"Are you sure you did not know of it last night?" asked Alan quietly. - -"Mr. Thorold!" - -The color rushed to her face. - -"I mean that the letter which disturbed you so much might have hinted -at the murder." - -"A letter? How do you know I got a letter last night?" - -"The Rector called to break the news to you this morning, and your -servant told him that you already knew it; also that you had left for -London--with your jewels, Mrs. Warrender," added Alan significantly. - -"And you followed me!" cried the woman savagely. "Do you intend to -accuse me of my husband's murder?" - -"I certainly do not; and I did not follow you. I am here on the same -errand as yourself." - -She looked terrified. - -"How do you know what my errand is?" - -"Because I can put two and two together, Mrs. Warrender. I also -received a letter--at least, Miss Marlow did, and from the same -man--the man who lives here." - -"Cicero Gramp?" - -"That is the name. You see, I was right. Does he intend to blackmail -you also, and did you bring your jewels to satisfy his demands?" - -She looked down the court. They were comparatively alone. A few ragged -children were playing about, and some slatternly women were watching -them from doorways. A man or two, brutalized by drink, hovered in the -distance. But a smart constable, who passed and repassed the entrance -of the cul-de-sac, casting inquisitive glances at Alan and his -companion, kept these birds of prey from any nearer approach. Finding -that they were out of earshot, Mrs. Warrender produced a letter and -handed it to Alan. It was written on the same thick, creamy paper, and -in the same elegant handwriting as had been the communication to -Sophy. He read it in silence. As he had expected, it informed Mrs. -Warrender that her husband was dead, and that Cicero Gramp, on payment -of two hundred pounds, could inform her where the body could be found. -His price had evidently gone up. But what struck Alan most was the -nature of the information now offered. Cicero declared that he could -tell the widow where her husband's body was to be found. The body had -already been discovered in the Marlow vault. Ergo, Cicero Gramp knew -it was there. If so, had he seen the murder committed and the body -taken into the vault? It seemed probable. Indeed, it seemed likely -that he could solve the whole mystery; but, strangely enough, the -prospect did not seem to afford Mr. Thorold much satisfaction. He -handed back the letter with a dissatisfied smile. - -"I think you have wasted your time coming up," he said. "Jarks, no -doubt, told your servant that the doctor's body had already been -discovered. Why, then, come up to pay blackmail?" - -"I want to find out who killed Julian," she said. - -"Then you are on your way to see this man?" - -"Yes." She shuddered. "But this terrible place. I am afraid." - -"Then why come here? I am going to see Mr. Gramp on Miss Marlow's -behalf. If you like, I will represent you also." - -"No, thank you; I must see him myself." - -"Very well. I suppose you are not staying in town?" - -"Yes, at the Norfolk Hotel. I shall remain until to-morrow, so as to -sell my jewels and bribe this man." - -"There will be no need to sell your jewels," said Alan soothingly. "I -will be responsible for the blackmail. Have you the jewels with you?" - -"No, I dared not bring them. He might have robbed me. They are in my -bedroom at the hotel." - -"Then go back at once and look after them. I will bring this man there -in, let us say, an hour." - -"Thank you, Mr. Thorold," she said. "I accept your offer. I am really -afraid to go down that slum." - -He gazed after her fine figure as she walked hurriedly away. Somehow -that haughty air and resolute gait did not fit in well with her -expression of fear. It was curious. He felt there was something -strange about Mrs. Warrender. However, she had been open enough with -him, so he did not choose to think badly of her. - -The man he sought was not easy to find. Mr. Cramp had his own reasons -for keeping clear of the police. The whole alley was known by the name -of Dixon's Rents, and Thorold had no idea in which of the houses to -ask for him. He questioned a stunted street Arab with wolfish eyes, -emphasizing his request with a sixpence. - -"Oh, Cicero!" yelped the lad, biting the coin. "Yuss, he's round -about. Dunno! Y'ain't a 'tec?" - -"What's that?" - -"A de-tec-tive," drawled the boy. "Cicero ain't wanted, is he?" - -"Not by me. Is Cicero generally--er--wanted?" inquired Alan -delicately. - -The urchin closed one eye rapidly, and grinned with many teeth. But, -instead of replying he took to shouting hoarsely for "Mother Ginger." -The surrounding population popped out of their burrows like so many -rabbits, and for the next few minutes "Mother Ginger" was asked for -vigorously. Alan looked round at the ragged, blear-eyed slum-dwellers, -but could see nothing of the lady in question. Suddenly his arm was -twitched, and he turned to find a dwarf no higher than his waist -trying to attract his attention. Mother Ginger, for it was she, had a -huge head of red hair, fantastically decked with ribbons of many -colors. Her dress, too, was rainbow-hued, like Joseph's coat. She had -carpet slippers on her huge feet, and white woolen gloves on her large -hands. Her face was as large as a frying-pan and of a pallid hue, with -expressionless blue eyes and a big mouth. Alan saw in her a female -Quasimodo. - -"Wot is it?" she inquired. Evidently Mother Ginger was vain of her -finery and of the attention she attracted. "Is it Mr. Gramp you want, -m'dimber-cove?" - -"Yes. Can you take me to him?" asked Thorold, wincing at the -penny-whistle quality of her voice. "Is he at home?" - -"P'r'aps he is, p'r'aps he ain't," retorted Mother Ginger, with a -fascinating leer. "Wot d'ye want with him?" - -"This will explain." And Alan put Cicero's letter into her hand. "Give -him that." - -She nodded, croaked like a bull-frog, and vanished amongst the crowd. -Mr. Thorold found himself the center of attraction and the object of -remark. - -This somewhat unpleasant position was put an end to by the appearance -of Mother Ginger, who clawed Alan, and drew him into a house at the -end of the court. The tatterdemalions gave a yell of disappointment at -the escape of their prey, and their prey congratulated himself that he -had not made his visit at night. He felt that he might have fared -badly in this modern Court of Miracles. However, it appeared that he -was safe under the protection of Mother Ginger. With the activity of a -monkey, she conducted him up a dirty staircase and into a bare room -furnished with a bed, a chair, and a table. Here Alan was greeted by a -bulky creature in a gorgeous red dressing-gown, old and greasy, but -still pretentious. He had no difficulty in recognizing the man whom he -had seen reciting on the parade at Bournemouth. - -"I welcome you, Mr. Thorold," said Cicero in his best Turveydrop -style. "Mother Ginger, depart." - -To get rid of the woman, Mr. Thorold placed a shilling in her concave -claw, upon which she executed a kind of war-dance, and vanished with a -yelp of delight. Left alone with the pompous vagabond, the young man -took the only chair, and faced his host, who was sitting majestically -on the bed, his red dressing-gown wrapped round him in regal style. - -"So you are Cicero Gramp?" began Alan. "I have seen you----" - -"At Bournemouth," interrupted the professor of elocution and -eloquence. "True, I was there for the benefit of my health." - -"And to blackmail Miss Marlow." - -"Blackmail--a painful word, Mr. Thorold." - -"How do you know my name?" - -"It is part of my business to know all names," was the answer--"_ex -nihilo nihil fit_, if you understand the tongue of my namesake. If I -did not know what I desire to know, my income would be small indeed. I -visited the salubrious village of Heathton, and learned there that -Miss Marlow and Mr. Thorold, to whom she was engaged, were recreating -themselves at the seaside with an inferior companion. Bournemouth was -the seaside, and I went there. On seeing a young lady with a spinster -and a gentleman in attendance, I noted Miss Marlow, Mr. Thorold, and -Miss Parsh." - -"And made yourself scarce?" - -"I did," admitted Cicero frankly. "I departed as soon as you were out -of sight, knowing that my letter would be delivered, and that you -might call in the police." - -"Ah, a guilty conscience!" - -"Far from it." Cicero flung open his dressing-gown and struck his -chest. "Here purity and innocence and peace are enthroned. I did not -wish to be taken by the minions of the law, lest they should wrest -from me for nothing what I should prefer to sell for a few pounds. -Besides, I wished to see you in my own house. A poor establishment," -said Mr. Gramp, looking round the meager room, "but mine own." - -He bowed gracefully, as if for applause. - -"Come, Mr. Gramp," said Alan diplomatically, "let us get to business. -What do you know about this matter?" - -"About the hundred pounds?" asked the man with an appearance of great -simplicity. - -"I'll pay you that, more or less, when I know what your information is -worth." - -"More or less won't do, Mr. Thorold. I want, from Miss Marlow or from -you, one hundred pounds." - -"I know, and two hundred from Mrs. Warrender." - -"Ah!"--Cicero did not move a muscle--"she has told you that I can give -you information about the body of her husband?" - -"Yes, and she has come to town to see you. However, I have intercepted -her, and she is waiting to see you in a place I know of. You must come -with me, Mr. Gramp." - -But Cicero shook his head uneasily. - -"An Englishman's house is his castle," he said. "This is my house, my -keep, my donjon. _Quod erat demonstrandum!_" - -"Oh, confound your dictionary Latin!" cried Alan impatiently. "You are -afraid of the police?" - -"Far from it, Mr. Thorold. I have nothing to fear from them. For one -hundred pounds I lay bare my heart." - -"I'll give you fifty pounds on condition you tell me all you know. -From Mrs. Warrender you won't receive a penny." - -"Then she shall never know where lies the body of her late lamented -partner." - -"She knows that already," said Alan coolly. - -"Ha!"--Cicero gave a dramatic start--"you seek to deceive me!" - -"Indeed, I do nothing of the sort; I found the body myself." - -"Where, may I ask?" said Gramp, his thoughts going back to the hut on -the heath. - -"In the Marlow vault, in the coffin of the dead man who was carried -away." - -Cicero's jaw fell. He was truly surprised. - -"How the devil did it get there from the hut?" he said. - -"The hut--what hut?" - -"I want my money before I tell you that, Mr. Thorold." - -Alan took five ten-pound notes out of his pocket. - -"Here is fifty pounds," he said; "it will be yours if you tell me all -you know, and come with me to see Mrs. Warrender." - -"Aha!" Cicero's eyes glittered, and his fingers longed to clutch the -money. Such wealth had not been his for many a long day. "And the -police?" - -"I thought you did not fear them?" was the reply. - -"I don't, for I have done nothing to put myself in the power of the -law. But I am afraid, as this body has been found, that you will have -me arrested, and so I shall lose the money." - -"If you are innocent of the murder and the sacrilege, you won't be -arrested, Gramp. And the money I will give you after we have seen Mrs. -Warrender." - -"On your word of honor as a gentleman?" - -"Yes, on my word of honor. If you can throw light on this mystery, and -bring home these crimes to the person who has committed them, I am -quite willing to pay you." - -"I don't know about bringing home the crimes, Mr. Thorold," said -Cicero, rising, "but I will tell you all I know in the presence of -Mrs. Warrender. Permit me to assume my visiting garb. Where is the -lady?" - -"At the Norfolk Hotel." - -"I know it. Many a glass which cheers have I drained there. _Dulce -desipere in loco_. You don't know Horace, perhaps?" - -"I suspect you don't," said Alan, annoyed by this hedge-Latin. "Hurry -up!" - -"Fifty pounds, Mr. Thorold." - -"After our interview with Mrs. Warrender," amended the other -significantly. - -"Command my services," said Cicero, and rapidly put on his frock-coat, -battered hat and gloves. - -After he had brushed his greasy broadcloth, and dusted his large boots -with the red bandana, he announced that he was ready. - -The oddly-assorted pair proceeded to the Norfolk Hotel through the -Lambeth slums. Cicero seemed to be very well known and very popular. -He exchanged greetings with shady acquaintances, patted ragged -children on the head, and arrived at the hotel swelling with pride. He -felt that he had shown Alan he was a man of consequence. Arrived at -their destination, they were shown by a slipshod waiter into a shabby -sitting-room on the first floor where they found Mrs. Warrender. She -rose, and on seeing Cicero, gave a shriek of surprise. - -"Bill!" she cried with a gasp. - -"Clara Maria!" exclaimed the so-called Cicero, "my beloved sister! -What a surprise!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. -AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW - - -"Well, I never!" gasped the widow, who, womanlike, was the first to -find her tongue. "Is it really you, Billy?--but I might have guessed -it, from your writing. Yet it never entered my head!" She stopped and -grew suddenly furious. "My husband, you wretch!--have you killed him?" - -"No, Clara Maria, no! I came here to give information about his poor -body. I did not expect to find my sister--the celebrated Miss de -Crespigny--in the person of Mrs. Warrender!" - -"What is all this about?" demanded Alan quietly. "Is this your -brother, Mrs. Warrender?" - -"To my shame, sir, I confess this--this creature"--Mrs. Warrender -brought out the word with a hiss--"this degraded beast, is my -brother." - -"Oh, Clara Maria, how can you----" - -"Hold your tongue!" interrupted the lady angrily. "You were always a -drunkard and a scoundrel! Now you've come to blackmailing! Two hundred -pounds from me, you wretch! Not one sixpence!" - -"I have already," said her brother majestically, "arranged pecuniary -matters with my friend Mr. Thorold. But I wonder at you, Clara Maria, -I really do, considering how we parted. Is this the greeting of flesh -and blood?" cried Mr. Gramp in a soaring voice, and standing on -tiptoe. "Is this what human nature is made of? The late Sir Isaac -Newton was a prophet indeed when he made that remark." - -"Mountebank!" hissed Mrs. Warrender, curling her handsome lip. - -"We were both mountebanks at one time, Mr. Thorold," he said, turning -to Alan, who, in spite of his anxiety, was watching the scene with -unconcealed amusement. "My sister was the celebrated Miss de -Crespigny; I, the once noted actor, Vavasour Belgrave----" - -"And his real name is Billy Spinks!" put in Mrs. Warrender scornfully. - -"William Spinks," corrected Mr. Gramp, as it may be convenient to call -him. "Billy is merely an endearing term to which, alas! your lips have -long been strangers. But you needn't talk," said Cicero, becoming -angry, and therewith a trifle vulgar; "your name is Clara Maria -Spinks!" - -"And a very good name, too," retorted the lady. "Cut the scene short, -Billy." - -"That is my advice also," put in Alan, who was growing weary. "I do -not want to know any more about your relationship. That you are -brother and sister is nothing to me." - -"I hope, Mr. Thorold, that you won't reveal my degraded connection in -Heathton," cried Mrs. Warrender, much agitated. "It would ruin me. -With great difficulty I attained a position by marrying my poor dear -Julian, and I don't want to fall back into the mud where this worm -writhes." She darted a vicious glance at Cicero. - -"Be content, Mrs. Warrender; your secret is safe with me." - -"Denying her own flesh and blood!" moaned Gramp, and sat down. - -Speech and attitude were most effective, and Mrs. Warrender, with a -spark of her old theatrical humor, played back. - -"Yes, I deny you," she cried, rising quickly and stretching out a -denunciatory hand. "You were always a brute and a disgrace to me. Look -at that creature, Mr. Thorold! He is my brother. Our parents were on -the stage--barnstormers they were--and played in the provinces for -bite and sup. They put us on the stage, and when thy died, left a -little money to Billy there. He was to bring me up. How did he fulfil -his trust? By making me work for him. As an actor, even in the meanest -parts, he was a failure. I am not much of an actress myself, although -I was well known as Miss de Crespigny, and billed all over London. It -was my figure and my looks that did it. I appeared in burlesque ten or -twelve years ago, and I had wealth at my feet." - -"I have heard of you," said Alan, recalling his college days and -certain photographs of the most beautiful burlesque actress in London. -He wondered he had not recognized her long before. Mrs. Warrender, -shaking with passion, went on as though she had not heard him. - -"Wealth was at my feet," went on the widow--"wealth and dishonor. -He," she cried, and pointed the finger of scorn at the unabashed -Cicero, "he lived on me! He would have me stoop to dishonor for his -sake! Then I lost my voice. The creature treated me basely. I left -him; I ran away to the States of America, and appeared in ballets for -my looks alone. In New Orleans I met Julian Warrender--he was old, but -he was madly in love with me--and I married him for a home. We came to -England five years ago, and settled at Heathton. I always did my best -to be a good wife, although I dare say I was extravagant. Diamonds! -yes, I have diamonds, and I made Julian buy me all he could. And -why?--to provide against the days of poverty which I knew would come. -They have come--my husband is dead. God help me!" Her voice rose to a -scream. "Murdered!" she cried. - -"This," interpolated Gramp, addressing no one in particular, "is very -painful." - -"You beast! Why do you come into my life again? I wanted to know about -my poor husband's death, and I brought up my jewels to bribe the man -who called himself Cicero Gramp into confessing who had murdered him. -I find that my own brother is the blackmailer. You would extort money -from me, you wretch! Never! never! never! I disown you--I cast you -out! William Spinks, blackguard you were! Cicero Gramp, scoundrel, -thief, blackmailer, and, for all I know, murderer, you are! Away with -you--away!" and Mrs. Warrender, very white in face and very exhausted -in body, sat down. - -"Very good," said her brother, rising; "I go." - -"Without your fifty pounds?" asked Alan, sneering. - -"I forgot that," he said, smiling blandly. - -"Don't give him a penny, Mr. Thorold!" cried the woman with vehemence. - -"I promised him the money, and he shall have it," replied Alan coldly. -"I have heard your story, Mrs. Warrender, and it is safe with me. No -one in Heathton shall know. Your brother will not speak of it either." - -"How do you know that?" asked Cicero, with an evil look. - -"Because you shall not have the fifty pounds until I have your promise -to hold your tongue about your relationship to Mrs. Warrender while -you are in Heathton." - -"I am not going to Heathton," growled Gramp like a sulky bear. - -"Yes, you are. You are coming to tell your story to Inspector Blair. -If you don't, not only will you lose your fifty pounds, but I will -have you arrested as a suspicious character." - -"You promised that the police should not touch me." - -"I promised nothing of the sort. Now, tell me what you saw of these -crimes--for there are two: sacrilege and murder--and then come to -Heathton. Behave well, keep Mrs. Warrender's secret, and you shall -have fifty pounds and your freedom. Otherwise----" Alan held up his -finger. - -"Oh, Mr. Thorold!" cried the widow, wringing her hands, "if this -horrible man comes to Heathton, I am lost!" - -"Indeed no! He will hold his tongue. Won't you?" - -"You seem very sure of it," said the professor of eloquence. - -"Of course I am. You see, Mr. Gramp, I have the handling of the late -Mr. Marlow's money, and I can buy your silence." - -"Not for fifty pounds." - -"We shall see about that. It's either fifty pounds or the police. -Choose!" - -Cicero folded his arms, and bowed his head. - -"I will take the money," he said, "and I will hold my tongue--while I -am at Heathton giving my evidence. Afterwards----" he looked at his -sister. - -"Afterwards," said Alan smoothly, "we will make other arrangements. -Now tell your story." - -"And tell the truth!" put in Mrs. Warrender sharply. - -"Clara Maria!" Cicero was about to break forth in furious speech, but -he restrained himself. "_Hodie mihi eras tibi!_" said Mr. Gramp, with -a strange look at Alan--"if you understand Latin." - -"I think I am able to follow you, my friend. You mean 'To-day to me, -to-morrow to thee,' which would be all right if it was I who quoted -the saying. But this time it is not your day, and as to your -to-morrow, it may never come." - -"We shall see about that," said Cicero savagely and pointedly. - -Alan felt an unpleasant thrill run through him, for the man's look was -evil beyond telling. But he betrayed nothing of this, and signed to -Gramp to continue. - -Quite understanding the position, Cicero reverted to his grand -theatrical manner. He rose from his chair, rested one hand on the back -of it, and thrust the other into his breast. As from a rostrum he -delivered his speech, and dwelt upon his own words with the gusto of a -modern Micawber. - -"Mr. Thorold and Clara Maria," he began in deep tones, "a few days ago -circumstances connected with money turned me weary and hungry from the -seaport of Southampton. I went--let us be plain--I went on the tramp, -and in the course of my peregrinations I drew near Heathton, a -salubrious village, notorious at the present moment for the crimes -which have been committed there. I spun a coin, my only sixpence, to -decide if an intrusion into that village would bring me good or evil -fortune. The coin said good, so to Heathton I went. As I shall shortly -pocket fifty quid--a vulgar term, but eloquent, Clara Maria, so don't -frown--I dare not say that my only sixpence told me a lie. That -sixpence bought me a meal in the Heathton public-house. Where is that -meal or sixpence now? _Eheu! Fuit Ilium._" - -"Go on," said Alan curtly, for the orator paused. - -"At the Good Samaritan I heard much about Mr. Marlow and the funeral, -and learned a few facts which were of use to me afterwards." - -"When you thrust yourself into the kitchen at the Moat House, I -presume?" - -"You are correct, Mr. Thorold. I did good business there; and I -learned, from the irresponsible chatter of the domestics, a few other -facts which may also prove valuable." - -He looked directly at Alan as he said this. - -"Go on! go on!" said Thorold again. But he felt uneasy. - -"I was turned out of the Good Samaritan by a hard-hearted landlady -called--appropriately, I confess--Mrs. Timber. As the night was fine, -I slept in the churchyard, opposite the tomb of Mr. Marlow. Soon after -midnight I was awakened by voices. I looked out, and saw two men, one -tall, the other short." - -"Who were they?" Alan asked anxiously. - -"One I knew later; the other one I am still in doubt about, as I did -not see his face." - -"But the names?" - -"You shall hear the names, Clara Maria, when I am ready, not before. -These men went into the tomb, remained there for some time, and came -out with the body. They lifted it over the low wall of the churchyard, -and went, I think, across the moor." - -"You followed?" cried Alan breathlessly. - -"No. I was afraid I might get into trouble, so I ran in the opposite -direction. I slept the rest of the night in a hayrick far from the -churchyard. Next day I sought the Moat House kitchen, and listened to -the talk of the servants. Then I went away with the idea of seeing -Miss Marlow at Bournemouth, as the servants said she was there with -Mr. Thorold. On the moor I saw a hut. I went into it to eat a frugal -meal. In it I found"--Cicero paused to give his words due effect--"a -corpse." - -"Whose corpse?" - -"That of the man who had assisted to steal the body, Clara Maria. Your -husband, Dr. Warrender!" - -"You liar!" shrieked the widow, making a bound at him. "Oh, you liar!" - -Alan flung himself between these affectionate relatives, or it might -have fared badly with Cicero. - -"Hold hard, Mrs. Warrender!" he said, holding her back; "let us -listen." - -"Listen to his lies! Do you hear that he says my husband stole Mr. -Marlow's body?" - -"So he did," said Cicero doggedly. "I'm telling you what I shall tell -to the police. The tall man was Dr. Warrender. I saw his face in the -lantern-light. Who the short man was I do not know." - -"How did you recognize Dr. Warrender?" demanded Alan, when Mrs. -Warrender had sat down again. - -"I didn't know him at the time; but I had his description from the -servants." - -"Tall, yellow beard, bald head?" said Thorold rapidly. - -"Yes, that was the man who assisted to remove the body, and that is -the description of the corpse I found in the hut." - -"My husband's body was found in the vault, you liar!" cried the widow. - -"Was it, Clara Maria? Well, all I can say is I don't know how it got -there. I left it in the hut myself." - -"Why did you not give information to the police?" - -"What! And get locked up on suspicion of murder? No, thank you, Mr. -Thorold. I ran away from that corpse as I would have done from the -devil." - -"Whose child you are," said his sister bitterly. - -"Don't miscall your own father, Clara Maria. Well, sir, I went on to -Bournemouth, and wrote two letters, one to Miss Marlow, and one to my -sister, although I did not know she was my sister then. Had I known I -had a relative in Heathton," said Cicero with pathos, "I should have -asked for a bed." - -"And your sister, Billy Spinks, would have set the dogs on you." - -"I am sure you would, Clara Maria. You were always one for sentimental -scenes." - -"Tell me, Gramp, is this all you know of these crimes?" put in Alan. - -"All, Mr. Thorold. I think, sir, it is worth fifty pounds." - -"Humph! We'll see what the police say. You have no objection, I -suppose, to come with me to Heathton and repeat this story?" - -"Having a clear conscience," said Cicero, with a superior smile, "I -can safely say that I have not. But the fifty, Mr. Thorold?" - -"Will be paid after you have told Blair this story." - -"If you are so poor," put in Mrs. Warrender, "where did you get money -to buy that writing-paper? It was costly paper." - -"It was," admitted Mr. Gramp with pride--"it was, Clara Maria. I -always do things in style. If you remember, I got a prize at school -for letter-writing." - -"Where did you get the money?" - -"From a nautical man called Joe Brill--a sovereign." - -"A sovereign from Joe Brill?" cried Alan, starting. "Why?" - -"Ah! you may ask," said Cicero. "In my opinion it was hush-money." - -"Hush-money! What do you mean, man?" - -"Mean! I mean that I believe Joe Brill was the short man I saw that -night. Yes, Mr. Thorold, Joe stole the corpse, and Joe killed foully, -with a knife, my respected brother-in-law. _Hinc illæ lachrymæ!_" - - - - -CHAPTER IX. -INVESTIGATION - - -Whilst Alan Thorold was dealing with Cicero and his sister in London, -Inspector Blair was co-operating with the Rector in obtaining evidence -relating to the murder. The inspector was a dry, dour, silent man, -born in England, but of Scotch descent. He was cautious to a fault, -and never expressed an opinion without having well considered what he -was going to say. It was now a common sight in Heathton for his long, -lean figure and the Rector's short, plump one to be seen constantly -together. - -He was now in the Rectory dining-room with a good glass of port beside -him, and Mr. Phelps, standing on the hearthrug, was supplying him with -all the details he had collected in connection with the mystery. The -case was getting so much more interesting than Blair, the sad and -silent, had expected that he was becoming, for him, quite vivacious. -He asked the Rector one question after another. - -"Mr. Thorold has gone to Dixon's Rents, sir?" - -"Yes, Mr. Inspector; I expect he'll have some news for us when he -returns to-night." - -"He seems a clever young gentleman," Blair said musingly. "I dare say -he will bring this man Gramp with him." - -"Do you think that Gramp can point out the guilty person?" - -"That, sir, I am not prepared to say offhand. If convenient, I should -like to take a look round." - -"Certainly. Where shall we go, Mr. Inspector?" and Mr. Phelps rose -briskly. - -"To the vault, if you please, sir. Afterwards we will call on Mrs. -Marry." - -The Rector paused at the door. - -"I told you all Mrs. Marry had to say about Brown." - -"Quite so, sir. But I wish to have a look at the rooms occupied by the -man. Also, I think it would be as well to examine his luggage." - -"Can you do that without a warrant?" - -"I'll take the risk," said Blair coolly. "An examination may not be -quite legal under the circumstances, but as Brown undoubtedly procured -the key of the vault by that forged letter, I am entitled to look upon -him as a suspicious character. Should he come back, sir--of which I -have my doubts--I can account for my action." - -"Humph! I think you are right. Come, then, and look at the vault." - -To the vault they went, and found Jarks showing the outside of it to a -crowd of morbid sightseers. Indeed, the tragedy had drawn people from -far and near to Heathton, and the usually quiet place buzzed like a -hive. Mrs. Timber was making her fortune, and blessed the day she had -turned Cicero the tramp out of her house. To him alone did Mrs. Timber -ascribe the theft of the body. As to his connection with the murder of -Dr. Warrender, she was not so certain. - -"Come, come!" cried Mr. Phelps, in his fussy manner, on finding Jarks -haranguing the crowd. "This is most ridiculous--most out of place. -Jarks, I am astonished at your desecrating the graveyard in this way." - -"No desecration, reverend sir," said Jarks, in his rusty voice, "I wos -only showing 'em where I laid Muster Marlow by, comfortable. Go----" - -"Go away--go away, all of you!" - -"Come on to the right!" shouted Jarks. "I'll show 'ee where a soocide -as they brought in crazy is tucked away. A lovely grave with a good -view, an' as nice a stone as I iver seed. In my young days he'd have -been buried in cross-roads with a stake, but they do trate 'em kindly -nowadays. Ah yis. This way to the soocide, neighbors!" And Jarks -headed the crowd to the other side of the graveyard. The keen, cold -eye of Inspector Blair cleared them out more quickly than Jarks' -invitation. - -"Dear me! most indiscreet of Jarks!" said the Rector, opening the door -of the vault. "Come in, Mr. Inspector. Here's a candle. Tut, tut! I've -burnt my fingers. Deuce take---- Hum--God forgive me for bad language! -This is the niche, Mr. Inspector; yonder the coffin--a very handsome -one. The lead is cut, you perceive. Ah, poor soul! And we meant it to -last till the Great Day." - -While the Rector ran on in this fashion, Blair the silent examined the -empty coffin. He noted that the lead casing had been cut with a sharp -instrument, and very neatly done--so neatly that the inspector became -thoughtful. - -"That wasn't done by a man in a hurry," he mused. But he said nothing, -and merely turned to Mr. Phelps with a question: "Who screwed down the -coffin?" - -"Who?--bless me, let me think! Yes, yes. Dr. Warrender--poor -soul!--and Joe Brill. Faithful fellow, Joe! Would see the last of his -master." - -"Wasn't the undertaker present?" - -"Crank? Well, yes, he was. But I am sorry to say, Mr. Inspector"--here -the face of the Rector became severe--"that on that day Crank was -intoxicated." - -"H'm! Who made him drunk?" - -"Himself, I suppose," rejoined Mr. Phelps, a trifle tartly. "Crank -requires no one to tempt him." - -"Few men do, sir," said Blair, and again examined the coffin. He -passed his long, delicate hand over every inch of it, particularly -fingering the lid; then he looked round the niche where it rested, -peered into the others, and considered well all that he saw, while Mr. -Phelps chattered. "Quite so," said the detective at length; "let us go -outside." - -He examined the graveyard as carefully as he had done the vault. In -the angle formed by the Lady Chapel he found the long grass crushed -down, and part of it torn up to make a pillow. - -"Humph! a squatting-place," said Blair, who had read a good deal about -prehistoric man. "A tramp has been sleeping here." - -"A tramp!" repeated the Rector. "Of course that was Cicero Gramp, who -wrote the letter." - -"No doubt. I dare say he saw the whole business." Blair continued his -researches, and came to a halt at the wall which divided church-yard -from pine-wood. He pointed to a loose stone which had been knocked -off. "Did you observe this before, sir?" - -"No," replied Mr. Phelps, raising his pince-nez. "But that's nothing. -You see, the wall has been put together without mortar--simply stones -piled one on top of the other. A high wind, now----" - -"I don't think a high wind knocked this stone off. You will notice, -sir, that it has fallen on the other side. Excuse me," and Blair, -active as a deer, leaped over the wall and disappeared into the -pine-belt. Phelps rubbed his nose, not understanding these Red Indian -methods. In ten minutes the inspector returned. "I can't find the -trail," said he, "but from the evidence of that wall, I suspect the -body was carried over it." - -"Where to, Mr. Inspector?" - -"Probably to a cart waiting on the highroad, which runs across the -moor. But, of course, I'm in the dark as to that. Let me see the -keyhole of the vault-door." He went back and had a good look at it. -There were no scratches to be seen. "Humph!" said the inspector; "this -was opened quietly enough, and by a man who knew what he was about. -There was no hurry or fumbling in putting in the key." - -"Ah!" said the Rector, looking wise. "What key? Not this one?" - -"No, Mr. Phelps, I don't suspect you. Probably the key was that stolen -from Mr. Thorold's desk by the Quiet Gentleman." - -"You speak as though you were not quite sure." - -"There might have been a third key," Blair said cautiously. - -"If so, why should Brown have stolen Thorold's key?" - -"That's one of the things I have to find out. Let us call on Mrs. -Marry." - -Mrs. Marry was a voluble, buxom woman, with rosy cheeks, and a great -amount of curiosity as to matters which did not concern her. But, -clever as she was, it seemed that she had nothing to tell about Mr. -Brown. With many curtsies and much talk she conducted Rector and -inspector into a gimcrack parlor full of gaudy furniture, Berlin wool -mats, antimacassars, and wax flowers. - -"When Jeremiah died," explained the widow with pride, "I spent the -nest-egg he left me on that elegant set of chairs and sofa, also on -the curtains, table, and glass lusters, which are considered very -fine. It was my intent, gentlemen, as a lone widder, to take in single -gentlemen, and they likes something to tickle the eye." - -"A most inviting room, Mrs. Marry," said the Rector, perching himself -carefully on a fragile chair, all varnish and design, but entirely -wanting in solidity; "but Mr. Brown----" - -"Ah, sir, he's gone where we must all go;" and Mrs. Marry wiped away -an imaginary tear. - -But her remark called forth a question from Blair, who had been making -a close examination of the room: - -"How do you know he is dead?" - -"Bless the man! wouldn't he be back if he wasn't? I'm sure he was -comfortable enough, and my cooking is above blame, thank Heaven! If -any one----" - -"Mr. Brown went out at nine o'clock?" said Blair, cutting her short. - -"I won't deceive you, Mr. Policeman, he did. He stayed in most of the -day, and went out in the afternoon. At six he came back for his bit -and sup, and at nine he went out again to take the air. He said so, at -least, and I ain't set eyes on him since." - -"He said so?" remarked Mr. Phelps. - -"On his fingers, of course. He was dumb, sir, but not deaf, and he -conversed on his fingers wonderful. I can talk myself that way," said -Mrs. Marry gravely, "having a niece as is deaf and dumb in an asylum. -I expect it was my knowing the language as brought Mr. Brown here to -lodge." - -"Where did he come from?" - -"London town, he gave me to understand, sir. But he didn't talk -much--on his fingers--about himself. He was very quiet, ate and drank, -read books----" - -"What kind of books?" - -"Novels, sir--yellow novels, in a foreign tongue. Here, sir, is the -rosewood bookcase. He also wrote a great deal, but what I don't know. -I thought he had ideas of becoming a writing person himself." - -Blair opened the bookcase, and one by one examined a dozen or so of -French novels ranged on the lower shelf. They were all by good -authors, the usual paper-covered cheap editions--nothing strange -about them. No name was written in any one of them. He shut up the -bookcase with a look of disappointment. - -"Was your lodger a Frenchman?" he asked. - -"Lor', sir, I dunno! He talked English with his fingers. I've seen him -reading the newspapers." - -"He did not look like a foreigner," remarked the Rector. - -"Ah! I quite forgot you knew the man, Mr. Phelps. Can you describe his -looks?" - -"He was not very tall, had long white hair and a beard, ruddy cheeks, -and dark eyes. He was usually dressed in a gray suit, and walked with -a stout stick." - -"Gout in his feet," put in Mrs. Marry, not at all pleased at being -left out in the cold. "He wore cloth boots for his gout--walked very -badly, did Mr. Brown." - -"Strange!" murmured Blair, again looking round the room. "How could an -old man helpless through gout in the feet carry off a dead body? -Humph!" - -"He carried off no dead body!" cried Mrs. Marry, crimson with wrath, -"if it's Mr. Marlow's corpse you're talking of. I believe Mr. Brown's -bin murdered like the doctor." - -"Why do you believe so?" - -"Because I've made up my mind to believe it," said Mrs. Marry -fiercely. "And I'd like to see the man as would change my mind." - -"So should I," remarked Blair. "Well, Mrs. Marry, show me Mr. Brown's -room. I must examine his luggage." - -"There's only one box, and that's locked." - -"I'll take the liberty of opening it." - -"But you can't. I'm an honest woman. What'll Mr. Brown say when he -comes back and finds his things gone? Besides, there's a trifle of -rent, and----" - -"Hold your tongue!" said the inspector, with a glance which quelled -her. "I will take nothing away. You forget who I am, Mrs. Marry. Show -me the bedroom." And the landlady, thinking better of it, obeyed -without further argument. - -The box was there--a common, brown-painted traveling-box. There was no -name on it, and it proved to be locked. The inspector asked for a -chisel, and forced it open. Within he found three suits of gray -clothes, some linen and socks, together with a pair of cloth -boots--nothing else. No name on the shirts, no tailor's tag on the -clothes. Evidently nothing of Mr. Brown's identity was to be learned -from his belongings. - -"The man from nowhere," said Phelps, gazing blankly around him. - -But Inspector Blair was not yet satisfied. He searched both -sitting-room and bedroom, questioned Mrs. Marry, looked at some torn -pieces of paper in the fireplace, and--found nothing. Rector and -inspector walked out of the cottage as wise as when they had entered -it. So far their search had been a failure. - -All that afternoon Blair hunted the village for evidence. He heard how -Warrender had called at Mrs. Marry's house, how he had left there to -follow the Quiet Gentleman, who had been seen by the peasant going in -the direction of the moor. Blair recalled the loose stone dropped from -the churchyard wall, and his own theory that the corpse had been taken -to a cart on the road. He sent out the police, and had the heath -searched, even to the hut where the corpse had been, but all with no -result. And as yet he was ignorant of what Cicero knew. - -Tired and baffled, he returned to Heathton to the inn. Here he found a -messenger from Mr. Phelps, asking him to call at the Rectory. He -hurried there, and was met by Alan Thorold, who presented Cicero and -Mrs. Warrender. Then the tramp told the story of all that he had seen. -Blair rubbed his chin. - -"Can the doctor have helped Brown to do it?" he said half aloud. - -"No, he did not!" cried Mrs. Warrender angrily. "My husband was as -good a man as ever lived. Why should he steal a corpse?" - -"Humph! Why indeed!" - -Blair recollected something he had seen in the vault of which he cared -not to speak until he could be more certain. So he held his peace. - -"Even if the late lamented Dr. Warrender did violate the sanctity of -the tomb," said Cicero softly, "who killed the late lamented Dr. -Warrender?" - -"Perhaps the shorter man who helped him," said the Rector. - -"That was----" - -"Hold your tongue just now," whispered Alan, for Cicero was about to -mention Joe Brill's name; "we'll come to that later. Who's that?" - -It proved to be Mrs. Marry, who came in with part of a torn envelope -in her hand. On the envelope was an obliterated stamp, but the writing -had been torn off. - -"I found this in Mr. Brown's room," she said, "on the floor by the -edge of the carpet. How it escaped my dusting I don't know." - -Blair looked at this piece of evidence. - -"Jamaica stamp," he said. - -"Strange!" cried the Rector. "I know Marlow was at one time in -Jamaica." - -"And my husband, Dr. Warrender, came from Jamaica," said the widow. - -There was silence. They looked at one another. But no one had any -explanation to offer. - - - - -CHAPTER X. -ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE - - -In the course of his investigations Mr. Blair had examined the -servants at the Moat House. From the footman he heard of the West -Indian letter, and of the effect it had produced upon Mr. Marlow. -Search had been made for that letter as likely to throw some light on -the mystery, but without success. Evidently Mr. Marlow had thought it -important enough to destroy. His secret, whatever it might have been, -had gone to the grave with him. It was a strange coincidence that the -man Brown should also have a correspondent in Jamaica. He it was who -had stolen the key of the vault from Alan's desk. Again, Dr. -Warrender--who, as his wife told Alan, had been in Jamaica--had -been murdered. Between these three men, then--Marlow, Brown and -Warrender--there was evidently some connecting-link. Had there not -been, Warrender would not have assisted to remove the body of the -millionaire, and Brown, by stealing the key, would not have helped -him. - -"There is no doubt in my mind that Brown was the short man seen by -Gramp," Blair said to Alan. "And he was followed from Mrs. Marry's by -Dr. Warrender, who was bound on the same errand." - -"You mean the theft of the body?" - -"I think so. Brown had the key and Gramp saw them remove the corpse." - -"He saw Warrender," corrected Alan, "not Brown." - -"I judge the other was Brown, from the theft of the key and the fact -that Warrender called to see him, and then followed. Again, both men -have disappeared--at least, one has. The other is dead." - -"And who murdered him?" - -"Brown," said the inspector, with conviction. "I am sure of it." - -"How can you be sure?" - -"Because something unforeseen happened--the murder, probably. In the -ordinary course of things, I take it, Brown would have come back to -fetch his luggage, and would have gone away in a manner less likely to -arouse suspicion. Probably he and Warrender had a quarrel when they -put the corpse in the cart. Brown killed the doctor, and then drove -away." - -"But, Blair," argued Alan, "you forget that the doctor's body was seen -in the hut. Even if Brown had dragged it there--which, I admit, he -might have done--I don't see how he could have brought it back again -to the vault." - -"I do, Mr. Thorold. It was Brown who had the key. Most likely he put -the dead body in a place of safety, then came back the following -night, to hide it away in the safest place he knew of--to wit, the -vault. If you recollect, no alarm as to the loss of Marlow's body was -given, or was likely to be given. Warrender's dead body would not have -been searched for in the vault. It is, at least, highly improbable -that the vault would have been opened." - -"That is true," assented Alan. "But that Cicero by chance saw the -affair, I dare say we should have remained in ignorance of the -business for many a long day. No one would have gone to the vault. A -very clever man, this Brown." - -"Very clever. But for the accident of Cicero having slept in the -churchyard, he would have got off scot-free. As it is, I don't see how -we can hunt him down. His gout, his dumbness, his white hair and beard -may have been assumed. The fact of the linen left at Mrs. Marry's -being unmarked is proof enough that he was disguised." - -"Perhaps," said Alan doubtfully. "What I can't make out is, how he -knew I had the key of the vault in my desk." - -"Did you mention it to any one?" - -"Only to Mr. Phelps." - -"Where?" - -"In the churchyard after the funeral. We were all round the vault and -the service was just over. Phelps locked the door with his key and -asked me where mine was. I said, 'In my desk in the library.'" - -"Was Brown present at the funeral?" - -"Yes, I think I caught a glimpse of him." - -"Was there a crowd round the vault door when it was closed?" - -"There was; but I didn't notice Brown on that occasion." - -Blair nodded. - -"Very probably. You were too much taken up with the business in hand. -Yet, I'll swear Brown was in the crowd, and heard you say where the -key was. The clever scoundrel made use of the information that same -afternoon." - -"I believe you are right," said Alan, clenching his fist. "Oh, I do -wish we could find the villain! But what object could he have had in -stealing the body?" - -"I can guess. Mr. Marlow was a millionaire." - -"Well, in a small way, yes." - -"In a way quite big enough to pay a handsome ransom, Mr. Thorold." The -inspector smiled. "Depend upon it, we shall hear from this so-called -Brown. He will ask a good few thousands for the return of the corpse. -Oh, it is not the first time this game has been played." - -"Well, if Brown writes, we'll have him arrested for the murder." - -"Humph!" said Blair, shaking his head, "that is easier said than done. -He has been too clever for us so far, he may prove too clever in the -matter of obtaining the reward of his wickedness. Well, Mr. Thorold, -the inquest takes place to-morrow, but I haven't got much evidence for -the jury." - -He was right. All his talk had been built up upon theory, and on the -slenderest of circumstantial evidence. The fact that Brown, the -mysterious, had stolen the key--and even that was not absolutely -proved--did not show that he had stolen the body. Cicero could not -swear to his identity, and, even presuming that he had committed the -sacrilege, there was no evidence that it was he who had murdered -Warrender. - -And so the inquest on the body of the ill-fated doctor was held, the -theft of the millionaire's corpse being merely a side-issue. Can it be -wondered that the jury were puzzled? All that could be scraped -together by Blair was put before them. Cicero related his midnight -experience; Mrs. Warrender told how her husband went out to see a -patient; Mrs. Marry how the doctor called at her house, and afterwards -followed Brown. Finally, Alan and his housekeeper gave evidence as to -the loss of the key, and the forged letter was produced. Out of this -sparse detail little could be made, and after some deliberation, the -jury brought in the only verdict possible under the circumstances: - -"The deceased has been murdered by some person or persons unknown." - -"Most unsatisfactory," said Blair grimly; "but there is no more to be -said." - -"What can you do now?" asked Alan. "Shall you give up the case?" - -"That depends upon you, sir, or, rather, upon Miss Marlow." - -"In what way?" - -"In the money way, Mr. Thorold. I'm a poor man, and must attend to my -duties. All the same, if Miss Marlow will offer a reward, I will do my -utmost to find out who stole her father's body and who murdered the -doctor." - -"Why couple the two crimes?" - -"Because, sir, in my opinion, Brown committed both. Give a reward, Mr. -Thorold, and I'll do my best; otherwise, as I have other urgent -matters on hand, I must drop the business. But I don't deny," -continued the inspector, stroking his chin, "that if I were a moneyed -man I'd work at this business for the sheer love of it. It is a kind -of criminal mystery which does not happen every day." - -"The reward shall be offered," said Alan. "Miss Marlow will be guided -by me." - -Needless to say, Sophy was guided by him. Indeed, so eager was she -that the remains of her father should be recovered that, had not Alan -suggested it, she would have offered a reward herself. Also, she was -anxious to assist Mrs. Warrender, who in spite of her vulgarity and -somewhat covetous disposition, was really a well-meaning woman. - -The result of this was that two rewards were offered--one thousand for -the detection of the person who had stolen the body, and a like sum -for any information likely to lead to the arrest of Warrender's -murderer. So here were two thousand pounds going a-begging, and -hundreds of people hoped to have a chance of gaining the money. The -case was so strange and mysterious that it had attracted not a little -attention, and the fact that the missing body was that of a -millionaire added to the interest excited by the fact of its -disappearance. The London papers were full of leaders and letters -suggesting solutions of the mystery. The provincial press took up the -cry, and throughout the three kingdoms every one was talking of the -case. It was even said that Miss Marlow, the present possessor of all -this wealth, would marry the person who secured the thief and the -murderer. - -"I won't marry you, Alan dear, until my father's body is back in the -vault," said Sophy; "but at the same time, I won't marry any one -else." - -"But suppose I fail to find the body, Sophy?" - -"Then I must remain a spinster for the rest of my life." - -"In that case you condemn me to be a crusty old bachelor." - -"Never mind. We can still be friends and lovers." - -"I'd rather we were man and wife," sighed Alan. - -But he did not believe that she would cling to this idea of perpetual -spinsterhood for any length of time. As for Miss Vicky, she thought -Sophy mad to have thought of such a thing, and took her roundly to -task. - -"A woman ought to marry," she said, breaking through the barriers of -her ordinary primness. "Do you think, if my darling had lived, I -should now be a wretched old maid? No, indeed! It would have been my -delight to have been an obedient and loving wife to Edward." - -"I'm sure I wish he had lived!" cried Sophy, embracing her; "and I -won't have you call yourself crabbed. You are the sweetest, dearest -woman in the world!" - -"So poor Edward thought," sighed Miss Vicky, fingering the precious -brooch which always decorated some portion of her small person. "Alas -the day! How often he told me so! But he died for his country on the -field of glory," she cried, with a thrill of pride; "and in spite of -my lonely old age, I don't grudge his precious blood. Noble--noble -Edward!" and she wept. - -"Don't cry any more, Vicky." - -"It's your obstinacy I'm crying at, Sophia. If your poor dear pa's -remains are not found within a certain time, marry Mr. Thorold and be -happy." - -"I can't--I won't. How can I be happy knowing poor father isn't at -rest?" - -"His soul is at rest--the earthly tabernacle is nothing. Come, Sophia, -don't break with your life's happiness!" - -"Alan and I understand one another, Vicky. I dare say we shall marry -some day. But the body must be found." - -"Lord grant it!" ejaculated Miss Vicky piously, and said no more. For -she found that the more she argued the more obstinate Sophy grew. - -Amongst those who had hopes of gaining the reward was Cicero. He had -come out of the ordeal of a public examination unscathed, and was now -in the possession of his well-earned fifty pounds. Being anxious to -remain in Heathton for the purpose of prosecuting his inquiries, he -magnanimously forgave Mrs. Timber, and took up his quarters at the -Good Samaritan. Now that he had money and paid his bill regularly, the -good lady considered it politic to treat him with more civility, -although, after the manner of women, she felt constrained to remind -him, every now and again, of his former poverty. But these remarks did -not affect Mr. Gramp in the least. He regarded her no more than if she -had been a fly, and sailed about the village in a suit of new -broadcloth and the best of tall hats, airing his eloquence. He became -an attraction at the inn, and discoursed there every evening in fine -style. - -Mrs. Warrender was much averse to his staying on at Heathton. She -lived in constant dread lest the relationship between them should be -discovered. But Cicero never mentioned it--nor did he ever mention -her. Still, she felt doubtful, and one evening, on the plea that she -wished to hear more of what he knew about her husband's murder, she -sent for him. He arrived to find her in a low evening dress, -glittering with diamonds, and looking very handsome--so handsome, -indeed, that even he could not refrain from giving vent to his -admiration. - -"Upon my word, you are a Juno, Clara Maria!" he said, when they were -alone. "There is money in you yet!" - -"I know what you mean, Billy," replied the doctor's widow coldly, "but -I'm not going on the stage again in burlesque or anything else." - -"How are you going to live?" he asked with brutal candor. - -"That's my business," retorted Mrs. Warrender. "I have enough to live -on, even without selling my jewels. Perhaps I shall marry again." - -"I'm sure you will, Clara Maria. You always were a determined woman." - -"Hold your tongue, and tell me how much longer do you intend to -disgrace me here?" - -"How can I tell you, if I am to hold my tongue?" said Cicero coolly. -"As to staying here, I'm not disgracing you that I know of. No one -knows you are my ungrateful sister." - -"Billy, if I wasn't a lady, I'd---- Ungrateful, indeed, you brute! Go -away at once!" - -"No, Clara Maria, not till I find out who killed my brother-in-law. I -never knew him," said Cicero, wiping away a tear; "but as his nearest -relative, I must avenge him." - -"That won't do, Billy," said his sister sourly; "you only want the -reward." - -"Both rewards, Clara Maria. With two thousand pounds I could be a -gentleman for the rest of my life." - -"That you will never be." - -"I would do nothing----" - -"You never have, you lazy vagabond!" - -"Don't interrupt and insult me, Clara Maria, but work with me." - -"Work with you?" gasped Mrs. Warrender. "At what?" - -"At this case, Clara Maria. I believe that the secret of this mystery -is to be found in the island of Jamaica--in the past life of Mr. -Marlow. Now, your husband knew the late lamented millionaire in -Jamaica, and he might have left some papers relative to the -acquaintance. If so, let me see them, and I'll get on the track of the -assassin. We will share the reward." - -"My husband did leave papers," Mrs. Warrender said thoughtfully, "but -I won't show them to you, Billy. You'd take all the money. No, I'll -read his papers myself, and if I can find anything likely to reveal -the name of the person who stole the body and murdered Julian, I shall -tell Mr. Thorold." - -"You won't get the reward!" cried Cicero in an agony. - -"Oh yes, I will; I'm as clever as you are, Billy. Thank you for the -idea!" - -"You won't work with me?" - -"No," said she firmly, "I won't; I know you of old, and I want you to -keep out of my way. Leave this village and I'll give you twenty -pounds." - -"What! when there is a chance to make two thousand! No, Clara Maria." - -"Then earn the reward yourself. There's Joe Brill, he might tell you -what you want to know," mocked Mrs. Warrender. "My husband said he was -with Marlow for thirty years." - -"I wish I could ask Joe Brill," said Cicero gloomily. "Ever since he -tipped me the sovereign I have suspected Joe Brill; but he's gone!" - -"Gone! Gone where?" - -"I don't know. I only heard the news to-night. He's gone away without a -word, and vanished!" And Cicero groaned. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. -THE STRANGER - - -That Joe Brill had disappeared from Heathton was perfectly true. So -far Cicero was correct; but in stating that the man had vanished -without a sign he was wrong. News--to be precise, gossip--travels more -quickly in a village than in a town; it also gets more quickly -distorted. For the intimacy of villagers is such that they are readier -than less acquainted folk to take away from, or add to, any talk about -those whose everyday life they know so well. - -Joe Brill had left a letter for Sophy, who, in much alarm, consulted -Miss Parsh. The consultation was overheard by the footman, who told -the servants, without mentioning the letter, about which he was not -very clear himself, having caught only scraps of the conversation. The -kitchen discussed the news, and retailed it to the baker, who, with -the assistance of his wife, a noted gossip, spread it broadcast over -the village. Thus, in the evening, it came to Cicero's greedy ears; -and so it was that he came to tell his sister that Joe Brill had -disappeared without a sign. Sophy knew better. - -"Isn't it dreadful?" she said to Miss Vicky. "Joe is very cruel to -leave me like this in my trouble. He knows that I look upon him as one -of my best friends. To be thirty years with father, and then to leave -me! Oh, dear Vicky, what does it mean?" - -For answer, Miss Vicky read the letter aloud. It was badly written, -and badly spelt; but it was short and to the point. Amended it ran as -follows: - - -"Honored Miss, - -"I am called away on business which may turn out well for you. When -I'll come back, miss, I don't know; but wait in hope. Stand by and -nail your colors to the mast. Don't trust no one but Mr. Thorold. Your -prayers, honored miss, are requested for your humble servant, - -"Joseph Brill." - - -"Most extraordinary!" said Miss Vicky, and laid down the letter to -gaze blankly at Sophy. - -"I shall go mad with all this worry!" cried the poor girl, taking the -letter. "Oh, dear Vicky, everything has gone wrong since father died." - -"Hush! Don't talk of it, Sophia. Your pa's remains have gone, but his -soul is above. Dr. Warrender has been buried, and the verdict of -twelve intelligent men has been given. We must think no more of these -matters. But Joseph's letter----" - -"Is more of a mystery than all the rest put together," finished Sophy. -"Just listen to the nonsense Joe writes: 'I'm called away on -business.' What business, Vicky?--and how can it turn out well for me? -He doesn't know when he'll come back; that means he won't come back at -all. 'Wait in hope.' Hope of what, for goodness' sake, Vicky? And -Alan--of course, I'll trust no one but Alan. How absurd to put that -in! Then he finishes by asking my prayers, just as though he were -going to die. Vicky, is Joe mad?" - -"No; Joseph is too clear-headed a man to lose his wits. It's my -opinion, Sophia, that he's gone to search for your poor papa's -remains." - -This was Alan's opinion also when he read the letter, and heard of -Joe's disappearance. He questioned the servants, but they could give -no details. The page, who slept in the same room, declared that he -woke at six o'clock to find Joe's bed empty; but this did not alarm -him, as Joe was always the first in the house to be up. So Alan went -to the railway-station, and learnt there that the old sailor, carrying -some things tied up in a handkerchief, had taken the 6.30 train to the -junction. A wire to the junction station-master, who knew Joe, -elicited the reply that he had gone on to London by the express. -Beyond this it was hopeless to attempt to trace him; for at Waterloo -Station Joe had vanished into the crowd, and was lost. Alan told the -lamenting Sophy that nothing could now be done but wait for his -return. - -"But will he return?" demanded the girl tearfully. - -"I think so. I agree with Miss Vicky: Joe has gone to search for your -father's body." - -"But he has no idea where it is. If he did, he would surely have told -me or you, Alan, knowing how anxious we are!" - -"He may have a clue, and may want to follow it up himself. And I -believe, Sophy, that Joe knows more about the matter than we think. Do -you remember that he gave Cicero a sovereign to leave the Moat House?" - -"What of that?" - -"Only that a sovereign was a large sum for a servant like Joe to give. -He thought, no doubt, that Cicero knew too much, and he wanted to get -him away before he could be questioned. It was his guilty conscience -which made him so generous." - -"Guilty conscience, Alan? What had Joe done?" - -"Nothing, so far as I know," replied Thorold readily. "But I am -convinced there is something in your father's past life, Sophy, which -would account for the violation of the vault. Joe knows it, but for -some reason he won't tell. I questioned him about the ridiculous sum -he gave to Cicero, but I could get no satisfactory explanation out of -him--nor could Blair." - -"You don't think he was the short man with Dr. Warrender on that -night, Alan?" asked the girl somewhat tremulously. - -"No, I do not; I asked the boy who sleeps in the same room. He said -that Joe went to bed as usual, and that he never heard him go out. -Besides, Sophy, I am certain the accomplice of Warrender was Brown." - -"The Quiet Gentleman?" - -"Yes; he had the key of the vault. And also, by the evidence of the -stamp, he had something to do with Jamaica. Perhaps he knew your -father there." - -"Perhaps he did. Joe would know." - -"Joe will not speak, and, at all events, he has gone. We must wait -until he comes back." - -"Are you not going to make any more search for the body, Alan?" - -"My dearest, I have not the slightest idea where to begin. The case -has baffled the police, and it baffles me. I have made inquiries all -round the country, and I can find no one who saw Brown with your -father's dead body, or, indeed, anything else which might have aroused -suspicion. There is only one hope that we may get it back." - -"The reward?" - -"No; although Blair, and, I believe, Cicero, intend to work for that. -The hope lies in the chance that Brown, whoever he is, may have taken -away the body for blackmail. In that case we may get a letter -demanding money--probably a large sum. We must pay it, and have your -father's remains brought back." - -"And the murder, Alan?" - -"Ah! that is a difficult part. When Brown stole the body he did not -intend to commit murder; that came about in some unforeseen way. The -danger that he may be arrested for the murder may keep Brown from -applying for blackmail, always supposing, Sophy, that such is his -object." - -"In that case we may never recover poor father." - -"I am afraid not. However, we must live in hope." - -This conversation ended in the usual unsatisfactory way. On the face -of it there was nothing to be done, for Alan could obtain no clue. -Brown, if Brown were indeed the guilty person, had managed so cleverly -that he had completely cut his trail. Even the offer of the reward -brought forth no fresh information. The mystery was more a mystery -than ever. - -In his capacity of trustee, Alan had looked through the papers of the -dead man. He found no documents or letters whatever relating to his -life in Jamaica, yet there were plenty dealing with his doings in -South Africa. Twenty years before he had left Kingston with the child -Sophy. He brought her to England, and placed her in the Hampstead -convent. Then he sailed for the Cape, and had made his fortune there. -Fifteen years after he returned, to buy the Moat House, and settled. -Sophy came to live with him, and he had passed a quiet, peaceful time -until his sudden death. So far all was clear; but the Jamaica life -still remained a mystery. When he died he was over sixty. What had he -done with himself during the forty years he had lived in the West -Indies? Joe could have told; but Joe, as mysterious as his master, had -disappeared, and even if he had remained, Alan could have got nothing -out of him. The old sailor, as had been proved both by Thorold and the -inspector, was as dumb as an oyster. - -"Did Marlow ever mention Jamaica?" Alan asked Mr. Phelps, when next -they met. - -"Once or twice, in a casual sort of way. He said he had sailed a good -deal amongst the islands." - -"And Joe was a sailor. I wonder if Marlow went in for trading there?" - -"It's not impossible," said the Rector; "but that fact, even if we -knew it to be true, could throw no light on the disappearance of his -body." - -"I don't know. I have a good mind to go to Jamaica--to Kingston--to -make inquiries. The West Indian Island area is not so very large. If -Marlow had been a trader there twenty years ago, he would still be -remembered amongst them. I might come across some one who knew of his -past life." - -"You might," assented Phelps, with an amount of sarcasm surprising in -so mild a man, "if Marlow were his real name." - -The two were sitting over their wine in the twilight amid the glimmer -of shaded candles. This last remark of the Rector's so surprised Alan, -that he turned suddenly, and knocked his glass off the table. After he -had apologized for the accident, and after the débris had been -collected by the scandalized butler, the Squire asked Mr. Phelps what -he meant. - -"It is hard to say what I mean." The Rector sipped his port -meditatively. "Marlow was always a mystery to me. Undeniably a -millionaire and a gentleman, Alan, and while here a man of clean life. -And I have met people in London"--the worthy parson dabbled a little -in shares--"who knew him in South Africa. He was highly respected -there, and he made his millions honestly, so far as millions can be -made honestly in these gambling days. But I always felt that there was -some mystery about the man. It was Warrender who gave me the clue." - -"Ah! Warrender came with Marlow to Heathton." - -"Yes, but there was no mystery about that. Warrender told me that he -had met Marlow at Kingston, Jamaica. Afterwards the doctor settled in -New Orleans. There he met his wife, who was on the stage. He did not -do very well, so Mrs. Warrender urged him to return to England. He did -so, and met Marlow by chance in London, where they renewed their -acquaintance. Sorry to see that Warrender was so unfortunate, Marlow -brought him down here, where he did very well." - -"I don't think he did well enough to have supplied Mrs. Warrender with -her diamonds, sir." - -"Alan, don't speak evil of the dead. She did not get the diamonds from -Marlow, but legitimately, my dear boy, from her husband." - -"And where did he get them? His practice must have brought him in -little enough." - -"No, I won't say that. The fact, I think, is that there was some -understanding between the two men, and that Marlow gave Warrender -money." - -"He must have given him a good deal, then. Those jewels represent a -lot. Seems like a kind of blackmail, sir." - -"On that point, Alan, I would prefer not to give an opinion." - -"And Warrender helped to steal the body of his patron," mused Alan. -"Strange. But about this idea of a false name." - -"Well, it was at dinner one evening. The ladies had retired, and I was -alone with Marlow and Warrender, talking over our wine, just as you -and I might be now, Alan. The doctor had taken a little too much, and -on one occasion he addressed the other man as Beauchamp. Marlow -flashed one fierce glance at him, which sobered him at once. I made no -remark on the incident at the time, but it stuck in my memory." - -"Then you think that Mr. Marlow was called Beauchamp in Jamaica?" - -"Warrender's slip gave me that impression," said the Rector -cautiously. - -"How very strange!" murmured Alan, toying with his glass. "Do you know -the will? Of course, I am trustee." - -"Sophy's trustee--why, yes. All the money goes to her, doesn't it?" - -"Most of it. There are legacies to myself, Joe Brill, and Miss Parsh. -Sophy gets the rest, on conditions." - -"What conditions?" - -"One is that she marries me, the other that she pays two thousand a -year to a man called Herbert Beauchamp." - -It was the Rector's turn to be startled. - -"Bless me, the same name!" - -"It would appear so. Perhaps this Herbert Beauchamp is a relative of -the so-called Marlow. The money is to be paid into the Occidental Bank -of London for transmission to him." - -"Where is he?" - -"I don't know. But now that you have told me so much, I shall take the -first instalment myself to the Occidental Bank and make inquiries -about the man. The manager may be able in some measure to account for -all this." - -"I hope so, I hope so," cried the bewildered Rector, "for the -mysteries seem to me to deepen." - -"Meanwhile," went on Alan calmly, "I shall see Mrs. Warrender. She may -know something that will be useful to us." - -"I don't think so," the Rector said doubtfully. "Bless me, why should -she? It was long afterwards that she met the doctor in New Orleans." - -"Well, he might have told her about Marlow. At all events, I'll see -her. You know," added Alan, curling his lip, "Mrs. Warrender is fond -of money, and amenable to bribery." - -Thorold was usually correct in his forecasts of what would happen, but -this time he was quite wrong. The widow received him kindly, and told -him absolutely nothing. Acting on the advice given her by Cicero, she -had been searching through the papers of her late husband. She had not -found what she sought, but she had found quite enough to show that -there was a mystery in Mr. Marlow's past life--a mystery which was -sufficiently important to be worth money. It was the intention of this -astute woman to play her own game, a game which had for stake a goodly -portion of Sophy's millions, and she had no desire for a partner. To -Cicero and to his wish to join her she soon gave the go-by. And when -Alan came upon the scene, she gave him to understand that she knew -nothing. Her intention was to prepare her bombshell alone, and when it -was ready, to explode it in Sophy's presence. That her knowledge would -be profitable to her from a financial point of view she felt pretty -secure, for the same blood ran in the veins of Clara Maria Warrender -and of Cicero Gramp. - -"I wish I could help you, Mr. Thorold," she said; "but I knew nothing -of Mr. Marlow. My husband never spoke to me about his life in -Jamaica." - -"Did he leave any papers?" - -"Lots of rubbish, but nothing that could enlighten us as to Mr. -Marlow's past." - -"Can I see them?" - -"Oh, I am so sorry, but I burnt them." - -He did not believe her, and went away with the conviction that she was -playing a deep game. Meanwhile a new personage had come upon the -scene--a man who told an astonishing story, and who made a no less -astonishing claim--a slight, dark, bright-eyed man, accurately -dressed, but foreign looking. He presented his card at the Moat House, -with a request to see Miss Marlow. - -"Captain Lestrange!" exclaimed Sophy. "Who is he, Thomas?" - -"Looks like a foreigner, miss. Shall I show him in?" - -"Yes," she said; and the visitor was announced almost immediately. - -He started theatrically when he saw the girl. Sophy, annoyed by his -manner, drew back. - -"Captain Lestrange?" she queried coldly. - -"Captain Lestrange," was the reply, "and your father." - - - - -CHAPTER XII. -A STRANGE STORY - - -Sophy neither screamed nor fainted at this extraordinary announcement; -indeed, it appeared to her so very ridiculous that she felt more -inclined to laugh. However, she controlled her feelings, and spoke -very quietly--so quietly that the visitor was somewhat disconcerted. - -"Why do you make this strange assertion?" she asked, looking again at -his card. - -"Because it is true." - -"What proof can you give me of its truth?" - -"Three proofs, Sophy, if I may call----" - -"You may not!" interrupted the girl, flushing. "I am Miss Marlow." - -"For the present," assented the man, with an ironical smile. "Soon you -will be Miss Lestrange. Three proofs, then, I have. Firstly, I can -tell you the story of how I lost you; secondly, there is the -resemblance between us; and, thirdly, I have the certificate of your -birth. Oh, it is easily proved, I can assure you." - -She shivered. He spoke very positively. What if his claim could be -substantiated? She looked at him; she glanced into a near mirror, and -she saw with dismay that there _was_ a strong resemblance. Like -herself, Lestrange, as he called himself, was slight in build, small -in stature. He also had dark hair and brilliant eyes; the contour of -his face, the chiseling of his features, resembled her own. Finally, -he had that Spanish look which she knew she herself possessed. So far -as outward appearances went, she might well have been the daughter of -this rakish-looking stranger. He smiled. From her furtive glance into -the mirror he guessed her thoughts. - -"You see the glass proclaims the truth," said he. "Think of your -supposed father, Richard Marlow--tall, fair, blue-eyed, Saxon in -looks! Like myself, you have the Spanish look and possess all the -grace and color of Andalusia. I always thought you would grow up -beautiful. Your dear mother was the loveliest woman in Jamaica." - -She did not answer, but the color ebbed from her cheeks, the courage -from her heart. It was true enough that she in no way resembled Mr. -Marlow. This man might be her father, after all. Yet he repelled her; -the glance of his glittering eyes gave her a feeling of repulsion. He -was a bad man, of that she felt certain. But her father? She fought -against her doubts, and with a courage born of despair she prepared to -defend herself until help arrived. Her thoughts flew to Alan; he was -the champion she desired. - -"I expect my guardian, Mr. Thorold, in a quarter of an hour," she said -in a hard voice. "You will be good enough to relate your story to him. -I prefer to hear it when he is present." - -"You don't believe me?" - -"No, I do not. Mr. Marlow treated me as his daughter, and I feel -myself to be his daughter. Do you expect me to believe you, to rush -into your arms without proof?" - -"I have shown you one proof." - -"A chance resemblance counts for nothing. What about the certificate?" - -He produced a pocketbook, and took out a piece of paper. - -"This is a copy of the entry in the register of the Church of St. -Thomas at Kingston, You will find it all correct, Marie." - -"Marie! What do you mean?" - -"That paper will inform you," said Lestrange coolly. - -Sophy read the certificate. Truly, it seemed regular enough. It stated -that on the 24th of June, 18--, was born at Kingston, in the island of -Jamaica, Marie Annette Celestine Lestrange. The names of the parents -were Achille Lestrange and Zelia, his wife. Sophy could not suppress a -start. The 24th of June was her birthday; the date of the year was -also correct. She was twenty-one years of age now. She turned to him. - -"You are Achille Lestrange?" - -"Your father--yes." - -"I don't admit that, monsieur." - -"Why do you call me 'monsieur'?" - -"You are French, are you not?" - -"French by descent, if you will, but I am a British subject. Also, I -am a Roman Catholic. You are of the same faith?" - -"Yes, I am of the true Faith." - -"I am glad of that," said Lestrange indolently; he was as indolent as -graceful, and reminded Sophy of a full-fed tiger. "I am pleased to -hear that Marlow allowed you to retain your faith since he took from -you your father and your name." - -"Do you know that my father is dead?" - -"Pardon me, he is alive, and sitting before you." - -Sophy ignored his remark. - -"Do you know that Mr. Marlow is dead?" she asked again. - -"Ah! now you speak as you should. Yes, I heard something about his -death. The fact is, I have only just landed from a Royal Mail steamer -at Southampton--two days ago, in fact--so I know very little. But I -have heard of the disappearance of his body. It is town talk in -London. One cannot open a newspaper without coming across theories of -how it happened." - -"And the murder of Dr. Warrender? Do you know of that also?" - -"Of course. The two things go together, as I understand. Marlow's body -is lost; Warrender was stabbed. How unfortunate that two people I knew -should be out of the way when I come to claim you!" - -"Did you know Dr. Warrender?" asked Sophy quickly. - -"As I know myself," was the answer. "Twenty years ago, when you were a -child, a mere infant, he practised in the town of Falmouth, Jamaica. -He left after certain events which happened there, and, I believe, -practised again in New Orleans. He married there, too, it was said." - -"Yes; his wife lives at Heathton." - -"Ah! I shall be glad to see her. Has the man who murdered her husband -been discovered?" - -"No; he cannot be found." - -"Nor ever will be, I suspect," said Captain Lestrange coolly. "From -what I read, the whole criminal business was conducted in the most -skilful manner. I wonder why they stole poor Dick's body." - -"Poor Dick!" retorted the girl indignantly. "Are you speaking of my -father?" - -"Of the man who passed as your father--yes, Marie, I am." - -"Pray don't call me Marie! I am Sophia Marlow." - -"As you please. Temper again! Oh, how you remind me of Zelia!" - -She was confounded at the cool assurance of the man. Nothing seemed to -ruffle his temper or banish his eternal smile. He was more hateful to -her than ever. Never would she acknowledge herself his daughter, even -should he prove his claim! She was of age, and her own mistress. The -will of Richard Marlow left the money, not to "my daughter," but to -"Sophia Marlow," so there was no possibility of the money being taken -from her. Then she thought of Alan. He would stand between her and -this man. And even as this thought came into her mind, the door -opened, and Thorold came forward eagerly to meet her; but, on -perceiving the stranger, he stopped short. Lestrange rose and bowed in -a foreign fashion. - -"Oh, Alan!" cried Sophy, "I am so glad you have come! I was waiting -for you." - -"And I also," remarked Lestrange. - -"Who is this gentleman, Sophy?" demanded Alan. - -"He calls himself Captain Lestrange. Here is his card." - -"Captain in the army of the Peruvian Republic," said the man, "and -this young lady's father!" - -"Confound you!--what--what----!" - -"Oh yes, Alan. He says he is my father--that my true father stole me -from him. Here is the certificate of my birth, he says." - -"And here"--Lestrange pointed to Sophy--"here is my second self. Can -you deny the resemblance? By the way, who are you?" - -The inquiry was made with graceful insolence, and was meant to provoke -the young man into losing his temper. But in this it failed. - -"I am Alan Thorold," he said quietly, "the Squire of Heathton, and I -am engaged to marry Miss Marlow----" - -"Pardon--Mademoiselle Lestrange," interpolated the Captain, and -resumed his seat. "I claim this young lady as my daughter." - -"Good," said Thorold coldly. "Your proofs?" - -"The resemblance between us, the certificate of her birth, and the -story of how I lost my dear Marie twenty years ago." - -"The resemblance I admit, but that goes for nothing. As to the -certificate, it is that of Marie Lestrange, and not of Sophy Marlow." - -"Is not the birthday of Miss Marlow, as you will call her, on the 24th -of June----" - -"Yes," said Sophy, before Alan could stop her. "The day and the year -are both correct. I am twenty-one, and I was born on the 24th of June, -18--." - -"Very good; and at Kingston?" - -"At Kingston," admitted the girl; "but, for all that, I am not your -daughter." - -"I agree with Miss Marlow," said Mr. Thorold. "Let us hear your story. -That it will convince me I do not promise." - -"Ah!" cried the foreigner, with an ironical smile. "None so blind as -those who won't see. What a pity that Marlow and Warrender are both -dead!" - -"Oh, you know that?" - -"As I had the honor of telling Miss Marlow"--Lestrange put so sneering -an accent on the name that Alan felt inclined to kick him--"I know -that. I landed in England from Jamaica only two days ago. But, as you -know, every one is talking of the mystery, and by this time I know the -case as well as you do." - -Alan winced, and Sophy glanced at him apprehensively. Would her -champion fail her? Would this man prove his claim? She was in deadly -terror lest he should. But Alan had no intention of yielding. - -"Go on," he said again. "Miss Marlow and I will hear your story." - -"Very good. I am glad to see that you have the British instinct of -fair play. I will be as brief as possible, and you can ask me any -questions you wish. My name is Achille Lestrange, the man who is -mentioned in that certificate. I am--or, rather, I was--a Captain in -the Peruvian Army. I retired after the war between that country and -Chili. However, I have ample means to live on, and I retain my -military rank, out of sheer vanity, if you will." - -"All this," said Alan, "is beside the point." - -"It is necessary to explain my position. More than twenty years ago I -was married at Kingston to Zelia Durand. We had one child--a little -girl--the same who now sits beside you." - -"I won't hear of it!" cried Sophy angrily. - -"We shall see," he went on cheerfully. "You may change your mind when -I have got to the end of my story. I regret to say that Mrs. -Lestrange--I do not call her Madame," explained the Captain, "because -I am truly English in speech and manner--well, Mrs. Lestrange had a -bad temper. We did not get on well together. And, besides, I was -jealous"--his eyes flashed fire--"yes, I was jealous of Herbert -Beauchamp." - -"Herbert Beauchamp!" Alan thought of Marlow's will and of the legacy. -How did this man come to know the name? - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. -A STRANGE STORY--_continued_ - - -Captain Lestrange recovered from his momentary emotion, and raised his -eyebrows at Alan's involuntary exclamation. - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thorold." - -"Nothing," said the other hastily. "I fancied the name was familiar." - -"Ah! You may have heard Marlow mention it." - -"No. He never spoke of his past life." - -"He had good reason to be reticent, as you shall hear." - -But here Sophy burst out: "Be good enough to continue your story -without vilifying my father." - -"Your father!" sneered the Captain. - -"The story--the story!" cried Alan. - -"I continue," said Lestrange, with a nod. "As I say, I was jealous of -Beauchamp, for before our marriage he had been an admirer of my -Zelia's. And, as a matter of fact, she was a singularly attractive -woman. You might guess as much," added he blandly, "seeing that her -grace and beauty are reproduced in her daughter. But to continue: -Zelia had many admirers, three of whom she distinguished above the -others--myself, Herbert Beauchamp, and my cousin, Jean Lestrange. I -was the lucky man who won her. Jean ceased to pay any attention to her -after the marriage, but Beauchamp was persistent. I remonstrated with -him--we nearly had a duel--but to no purpose; and I am sorry to say -that Zelia encouraged him." - -"Proceed with your story, and leave my mother alone," cried Sophy. - -Alan started, for he remembered with a pang that Sophy had told him -her mother's name was Zelia; but he kept silent, and a terrible dread -came over him that this man would prove his statements after all. - -Meanwhile the narrator went on pleasantly. - -"Beauchamp," he said, fingering his mustache, "was a sugar-planter--at -least, he was supposed to be one. He had a plantation some miles from -the town of Falmouth, which is on the other side of Jamaica. It was -there that Dr. Warrender practised. He was a bachelor in those days, -and he was considered rather a wild fellow. Probably for that reason -he was a bosom friend of Beauchamp's." - -"Do you mean to infer that Beauchamp was wild?" - -"Well, not exactly. I must be honest. He was adventuresome rather than -wild. He was fond of yachting, and had a smart sailing boat in which -he used to cruise amongst the islands. Warrender frequently went with -him. Beauchamp was a very handsome man, and extremely popular with -women. I know that to my cost," he added bitterly, "when he set his -affections on Zelia. She was my wife--she was the mother of my -child--yet she eloped with him." - -"I--I--don't believe it," said Sophy in a suffocating voice. - -"If it were not true, my child, you would not be sitting there under -the false name of Sophia Marlow." - -"One moment," put in Alan, clasping the girl's hand, "you have yet to -prove that Miss Marlow is Marie Lestrange." - -"If you would not interrupt so often, I could do so," said the man -insolently. "As I say, Zelia ran away with Beauchamp. He brought his -yacht to Kingston when I was absent, and sailed off with her. She -carried with her my child--my adorable Marie." Here Lestrange fixed an -affectionate look on Sophy. "I returned to find my home dishonored," -he went on, "my life wrecked. Jean came to console me. He also had -heard of Beauchamp's treachery, and that the boat had sailed for -Falmouth. We followed----" - -Here Lestrange broke down. Whether his emotion was genuine or not, -Alan could not say. He looked at Sophy, and she at him. Having fought -down his emotion, the Captain resumed his seat and his story: - -"Jean and I arrived at Falmouth. There we heard that Zelia was very -ill, and that Beauchamp had taken her to his plantation. Dr. -Warrender, our informant said, was in attendance. The whole town knew -that she was my wife, that she had dishonored me, and that I was on my -may to settle accounts with the man who had wrecked my happiness. My -cousin and I rode out to Beauchamp's plantation, for it was within a -few miles of Falmouth, as I said. The night was dark and stormy--we -arrived in pouring rain, and by the wailing of the negroes we knew -that death was in the house. Yes"--he grew dramatic--"Zelia was dead; -torture, remorse, sorrow, had brought about her punishment!" - -"You are very ready to condemn her," said Alan. - -"She had dishonored me!" cried the man, waxing melodramatic. "It was -well that she should die. I rushed away to her room, where she lay -calm in death, and Jean remained to arrange matters with Beauchamp. I -challenged him to a duel. Jean was my second. But Beauchamp refused to -fight, and--he murdered Jean." - -"Murdered your cousin?" queried Alan skeptically. - -"Yes. I was praying beside my wife's bed. I heard cries for help, and -when I came out I found Jean dead, stabbed to the heart by Beauchamp. -The scoundrel had fled--he had taken my child with him." - -"Why should he have encumbered himself with the child?" - -"To wring my heart!" replied Lestrange savagely. "He knew that I loved -my little Marie. He carried her away. I would have followed, but all -my troubles and the shock of Zelia's death brought on an attack of -fever. I rose from my bed weeks later to hear that Beauchamp had -vanished. On the night he committed the double crimes of murder and -kidnapping he went on board his yacht at Falmouth, and was never heard -of again. I searched for him everywhere, but without success." - -"What about his estate?" asked Alan. - -"There he has been cunning. It seemed that he had long since planned -to elope with Zelia, and that some weeks before he had sold his land. -He took the money with him, and the child. Had Zelia been alive she -would have gone too. As months and years went by, I gave up hope, and -I believed that the yacht had foundered." - -Suddenly Sophy got up, much agitated. - -"I can listen to this no longer," she said. "You are telling lies." - -"Her mother's temper," muttered Lestrange. "Zelia's masterly way of -crushing argument." - -"Don't call her my mother!" cried Sophy. "I won't have it. I am not -the child that was taken away by Beauchamp. I never knew any one of -that name." - -"Probably not," replied Lestrange smoothly. "There were reasons for -its being kept from you. But Mr. Thorold----" - -"Mr. Thorold is waiting to hear the end of the story," said that -gentleman coolly. "I have yet to hear who Beauchamp is and how you -traced him." - -"This is mere evasion." The Captain was losing his temper somewhat. -"You know who the man is as well as I do." - -"I am waiting to hear how you connect the two." - -"What two?" asked Miss Marlow. - -But in her own heart she knew the answer. Yet, like a loyal soul, she -kept true to the memory of the dead. - -Lestrange took no notice of her. - -"You are either very dull or very cunning," he said addressing Alan -pointedly. "The latter, I think. How did I find Beauchamp again? In a -curious way. I saw an illustrated paper in Jamaica, which gave a -portrait of the famous South African millionaire, Richard Marlow. The -face had on its right cheek a jagged scar. Jean gave that scar to -Beauchamp with his diamond ring. No doubt it was the drawing of blood -which led to the murder." - -"Then you assert that Marlow was none other than Herbert Beauchamp?" - -"I do. Also that Sophia Marlow is my child whom he carried away. I -have mourned her for twenty years. By the accident of the illustrated -paper I have traced her. At Southampton I heard of Marlow's death, so -I knew that he had escaped punishment on earth. But at least I have -found my dear child Marie." - -"I am not your child!" she cried. "I will never acknowledge you as my -father." - -"In that case"--Lestrange rose to his feet and looked very stern--"I -must appeal to the law." - -Alan laughed. - -"The law can't help you," he said. "Sophy is over age and her own -mistress. Even if you can prove your case, you cannot force her to go -with you." - -"Natural affection----" - -"Don't talk to me about natural affection!" cried the girl. "I know -nothing about you. Nothing in the world will make me go with you!" - -"But if I tell my story to the world?" cried Lestrange, hinting a -threat. - -"Tell it, by all means," said Thorold, putting his arm round Sophy. -"You can hurt only the memory of the dead. Even if Marlow, as you -assert, killed your cousin, he is dead, and beyond your reach." - -"Are you so sure he is dead?" sneered the man. - -"Of course we are sure," cried Sophy indignantly. "Didn't I see him -dead in his coffin?" - -"Well," said Lestrange, preparing to go, "it is most extraordinary to -me that he should have died so suddenly and so conveniently. His body, -too, has been stolen. That also is convenient." - -"Do you mean that he is alive?" - -"Yes. He feigned death to escape me." - -"How could he have known that you were coming?" - -"I don't know," was the answer, "but I shall find out. It shall be my -business to search for the body of Richard Marlow." - -"Do," said Thorold calmly. "And when you find it you will gain the -reward of a thousand pounds." - -"I shall gain more than that, Mr. Thorold. My daughter----" - -"Never! Never! Leave this house, sir, and don't come near me again!" - -The man moved towards the door. He had picked up the certificate and -put it in his pocket. - -"You turn your own father out into the street," he said. "Very good. I -shall take my own means of punishing you for your want of filial -respect. It is to the bad influence of Mr. Thorold that I owe this -reception. Be assured, Mr. Thorold, that I shall not forget it. To -revert to the tongue of my progenitors, I shall say _Au revoir_ but -not 'Adieu.' We shall meet again." - -And clapping on his hat with a jaunty air, Captain Lestrange walked -out of the room. - -When the door had closed after him, Sophy turned to Alan. - -"Do you think this story is true?" she asked. - -"I must admit that there appears to be some truth in it," was the -reply. "The certificate is correct as to your age, your birthday, and -your birthplace, and the name of your mother also is correct." - -"Then, am I that man's daughter?" - -"Not necessarily. He may have assumed the name. He may--oh, I don't -know what to think! But even if he proves his case, you won't go with -him?" - -"Never! never! How can we find out the truth?" - -"Joe might know. I wish he would come back. I wonder if, after all, -your father can be alive--Marlow, I mean." - -"How can that be? We both saw him dead. Dr. Warrender gave a -certificate of the death. Why do you ask?" - -"Well, it is strange. In his will a sum of two thousand a year is left -to be paid to a man called Herbert Beauchamp, through the Occidental -Bank." - -"And he says that my father was Herbert Beauchamp." - -"I know. Can your father have feigned death to avoid him?" - -"Impossible. He did not know Captain Lestrange was coming." - -"Well," said Alan slowly, "there was that West Indian letter which -agitated him so much. It might have been a warning. However, it is no -use theorizing. I'll go to the Occidental Bank, and find out Herbert -Beauchamp." - -"You won't find that he is my own father, Alan; I am sure of that. He -may be a relative. No, no! He is not a murderer! He is dead--quite -dead! I don't believe a word of the story." - -Alan sighed. - -"Time alone can prove its truth or falsehood, Sophy," he said. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. -THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE - - -That same evening the Rector was coming in to dine with Alan. The -young man was glad that he had asked him, for he was anxious to -consult his old friend about the strange tale he had heard, and about -the steps which should be taken to prove its truth or falsity. He -stayed with Sophy till it was nearly six o'clock. Miss Parsh had not -been called into counsel. She was too timid, they thought, and too -likely to lose her head. Moreover, Alan felt that she would give the -girl overmuch sympathy and make her nervous. So he did all the bracing -he could, advised her not to take the old lady into her confidence, -and rode home to the Abbey Farm in the cool twilight. - -As he passed the Good Samaritan, Mrs. Timber came flying out in a -flutter of excitement. - -"Sir! sir! Mr. Thorold!" she called. And then, as he checked his -horse: "Is the gentleman all right? He's a furriner, and I never did -hold as they could pay honest." - -"What are you talking about, Mrs. Timber?" asked the young man, -utterly bewildered. - -"Why, of the gentleman you sent to me, sir." - -"I sent no gentleman. Stay! Do you mean Captain Lestrange?" - -"Yes, sir, that's his name--a nasty French name. He said you -recommended my house. I'm sure I'm very much obliged, Mr. Thorold." -Here Mrs. Timber dropped her best curtsy and smiled a sour smile. "But -I arsk again, sir, is he good pay?" - -Alan was amazed at the Captain's impudence in making him stand sponsor -for his respectability. - -"I don't know anything about the gentleman, Mrs. Timber," he said, -giving his horse the spur. "He is a stranger to me." - -"Oh, is he?" muttered the landlady to herself as Alan galloped off. -"Well, he don't get nothing out of me till I sees the color of his -money. The idea of giving Mr. Thorold's name when he had no right to! -Ah! I doubt he's a robber of the widder and the orphan. But I'll show -him!" - -And Mrs. Timber, full of wrath, went into her hotel to have it out -with her new lodger. - -Alan rode fast and hard in the waning light, between the flowering -hedgerows--rode to get away from his thoughts. The advent of Lestrange -with his cut-and-dried story, with his accusation of the dead, and his -claim to be Sophy's father, was ominous of evil. Alan had his own -uncomfortable feelings, but of these he decided to tell no one, not -even Phelps, although Phelps was his very good friend. In taking this -resolution, Alan made a very serious mistake--a mistake which he found -out when it was too late to remedy his injudicious silence. - -He had just time to dress for dinner before his guest arrived. Knowing -that Mr. Phelps was dainty in his eating, Mrs. Hester had prepared a -meal such as the good Rector loved. Alan's wine was of the best, and -he did not stint it, so Mr. Phelps addressed himself to the solemn -business of dinner, with the conviction that he would enjoy himself; -and Alan kept his news to himself until they were in the smoking-room. -Then, when his guest was sipping aromatic black coffee and inhaling -the fragrance of an excellent cigar, the young Squire felt compelled -to speak, and exploded his bombshell without further notice. - -"Mr. Phelps, I have unpleasant news," he said, filling his pipe. - -The clergyman looked piteously at the excellent cigar, and took -another sip of the coffee. - -"Oh, Alan, my boy, must you?" - -"You can judge for yourself," replied Alan, unable to suppress a -smile. "Sophy had a visitor to-day." - -"Indeed! Any one connected with these mysteries which so perplex us?" - -"In one way, yes; in another, no. He is a Captain Lestrange." - -"Lestrange! Lestrange!" repeated the Rector. "I don't know the name. -Who is he?" - -"Sophy's father!" said Alan simply, and lighted up, while Mr. Phelps -remonstrated: - -"My dear Alan, if this is a jest----" - -"It is no jest, sir, but, I fear, a grim reality. This man comes from -Jamaica." - -"Dear me! Marlow came from Jamaica. Does he know----" - -"He knows all Marlow's past life." - -"The dev--ahem! God forgive me for swearing. And who was Marlow?" - -"According to Lestrange, a murderer." - -Phelps dropped his cigar and stared at his old pupil. - -"Alan, are you mad?" - -"No. At the present moment I am particularly sane. This man says that -Marlow was a murderer, and he himself claims to be Sophy's father. -Take some green Chartreuse, Mr. Phelps, and I'll tell you all about -it." - -The Rector's nerves had received such a shock at the abrupt way in -which Alan had told his news that he very willingly poured himself out -a liqueur. Then he relighted his cigar, and signed to the young man to -proceed. - -"If I must hear it!" sighed he. "Such a pity, too, when I was so -comfortable. Ah! Man is born to trouble. Go on, my dear lad!" - -"You will find it really interesting," said Thorold encouragingly, and -told his story in as concise a way as he could. The narrative was -interrupted frequently by the Rector. When it was ended he was too -much astonished to make any remark, and the other had to stir up his -intelligence. "What do you think of it, sir?" - -"Really--bless me!--I hardly know. Do you believe it, Alan?" - -"There are so many things in it which I know to be true, that I can't -help thinking the man is honest, in so far as his story goes," said -Alan gloomily. "Whether Sophy is really his child I can't say. She is -certainly very like him, and the certificate appears to be genuine. -Again, Mr. Phelps, you heard Warrender call Marlow 'Beauchamp,' and, -as I told you, a sum of two thousand a year is by Marlow's will to be -paid to a Herbert Beauchamp. What if he should be Marlow himself?" - -"I can't--I won't believe it!" cried the Rector, rubbing his bald -head. "The man is as dead as a doornail--you saw the corpse yourself, -Alan. The body was put in a leaden casing, hermetically sealed, and -that in a tightly-screwed-down oaken coffin. Even if Marlow had been -in a trance--if that is what you mean--he could not have survived -that! He would have died of suffocation--he would have been -asphyxiated. Bless my soul! I don't believe it for one moment." - -"But how do you account for the income left to Herbert Beauchamp?" - -"He must be a relative," said the Rector. - -"But the same Christian name, Mr. Phelps? Still, of course, that is -not impossible--he might be a relative. I will see the manager of the -bank, and insist upon knowing the address of this man." - -"Supposing he won't give it?" - -"Then I shall call in the police. I must get to the bottom of this -affair. Why should that body have been stolen?" - -"Perhaps Lestrange can tell you, Alan." The little parson jumped -up in a state of wild excitement. "What if he should be the Quiet -Gentleman--Brown?" - -"Impossible--he landed at Southampton only two days ago." - -"Oh! so he says, but you must find out if it is true." - -"I will examine the passenger-list of the last steamer." - -"It is strange," said the Rector--"strange that Marlow--let us call -him Marlow--should have died so opportunely. If you remember, he was -much worried by a West Indian letter he received a week before his -death." - -"Yes; I believe that was written to warn him against Lestrange. To -escape being arrested on a charge of murder, he--he--well, what did he -do." - -"He didn't feign death, at all events," said Mr. Phelps. "Bless me, -Alan! I know the feel and the look of a corpse. I've seen dozens! -Besides, you studied for medicine--your knowledge must tell you----" - -"Yes, I could have sworn he was, as you say, dead as a doornail. Of -course"--Alan cast about in his mind for some hypothesis--"that -is--the shock of impending danger hinted at in that letter might have -killed him. He died in a fit, sir, and died very suddenly." - -"Humph! You didn't attend him?" - -"I--a layman! My dear sir, Warrender attended him." - -"And Warrender was his bosom friend in Jamaica. Alan, Warrender must -have recognized him as Beauchamp--must have known Sophy was not his -daughter--must have known that he had been accused of murder in -Jamaica." - -"Quite so," said Alan composedly, "and so Mrs. Warrender's diamonds -are accounted for. He blackmailed Marlow. I can see it plainly." - -"Then the murder of--of Warrender?" whispered the Rector, with a look -of terror. - -"Ah! we are still in the dark about that. Marlow, being dead, could -not have killed him. Humph! I wonder if Lestrange is the Quiet -Gentleman after all!" - -"Alan!" said Phelps suddenly. "Joe Brill!" - -"What about him?" - -"Do you think he is guilty? He was devoted to his master. Warrender -possessed his master's secret, and Joe might have killed him, and have -run away to escape arrest." - -Alan shook his head. - -"There was no suspicion against Joe," he said. "Why should he have run -away?" - -"His guilty conscience, perhaps." - -"A man who had nerve enough to commit such a murder and take the -corpse of his victim back to the vault wouldn't have any conscience to -speak of. Besides, the boy who slept in Joe's room says he was not out -on that night." - -"No, no--of course not," said the Rector. "Then it can't be Joe. Well, -I give it up!" - -"I don't," said Alan grimly. "I go to London to-morrow to solve the -mystery." - -This he did. He left next morning and was away for three days, leaving -Mr. Phelps to console and protect Sophy from any annoyance on the part -of Lestrange, who remained in the village. The Captain propitiated -Mrs. Timber by the payment of a week's board and lodging in advance, -and this was enough to convince the landlady that he was a most -estimable person. - -Naturally enough, he and Cicero Gramp came into contact, and, equally -naturally, Cicero did his best to find out what business the Captain -had in Heathton. But this was no easy task, for Lestrange was guarded -in speech, and did not at first encourage his advances, judging very -truly that Mr. Gramp was a scoundrel, and could be dangerous. But -finally he decided that the gentleman in broadcloth, if properly -handled, could be converted into a useful tool, and he determined to -make use of him in that capacity. The intimacy began one night when -Cicero, having taken more than was good for him, allowed his tongue to -wag more freely than usual. Lestrange thus became aware that it could -dispense useful knowledge. - -"I tell you what it is, my noble Captain," said Cicero, with drunken -gravity, "you are a clever man--I am another. Why shouldn't we get -that reward by working together?" - -"Really, my friend, I hardly see what I can do. I am a stranger here." - -"That's why we ought to work together. You are not in these parts for -nothing. The gossip of servants--ah!" Gramp looked significantly at -Lestrange. "Oh, I heard how you were turned out of the Moat House." - -"What do you mean, my dear friend?" asked the Captain, in silky tones. - -"Oh! that you've got some game on--so have I. Let us work together." - -"Pooh! pooh! You are talking nonsense." - -"Nonsense which may mean money. See here, I know that you were kicked -out of the Moat House. Ah! the gossip of menials." - -"Pardon me, but I was not kicked out." - -"You were. Young Thorold did it. He wants all the money, and he'll get -it by marrying that girl--if I let him." - -"If you let him? What do you mean?" - -"Mean? Why, that I hate young Thorold, and that I want a few -thousands!" - -"Oh! and how do you intend to get them?" - -"Never you mind. If we work together--but, then, we don't. _Cedant -arma togæ_--which means, you're a soldier, I'm a lawyer--so that's all -right. Goo'night." - -And he staggered off, leaving Lestrange with much food for meditation. - -The outcome of this was that next morning the Captain met Cicero -halfway, and later in the day Sophy received a note from Lestrange -asking to see her. If she would not consent, he added, Mr. Thorold -would be placed in a position of great danger. - -After some reflection Sophy sent for Mr. Phelps, and they decided to -see the scamp. So on a Saturday morning Captain Lestrange was received -in the library of the Rectory. - -"Well, sir," said Phelps, "and what have you to say about Mr. -Thorold?" - -"Only this," was the reply: "that he is a scoundrel!" - -"Indeed!" the Rector stopped Sophy's exclamations. "On what grounds?" - -"On the grounds that it was he who stole the body of Richard Marlow!" - - - - -CHAPTER XV. -TROUBLE. - - -The Rector and Sophy looked at one another, and then at Lestrange, -smiling and confident. They knew Alan too well to credit so monstrous -an accusation for one moment. Indeed, the idea appeared so ridiculous -to Sophy that she laughed outright. - -Lestrange frowned. - -"You laugh now," he said. "You will weep later. What I say is true. -Thorold stole the body of your father--your supposed father!" he -sneered, "for, say what you like, you are my child." - -"I don't acknowledge the relationship," retorted the girl with spirit, -"and I never will. Mr. Marlow was my father. I shall always think of -him as such. As to your accusation of Mr. Thorold, it is merely -another trick to cause me trouble. I suppose you will say next that he -murdered Dr. Warrender?" - -"I say nothing of the sort," replied the Captain, nettled by her open -contempt, "yet he may have done so, for all I know. But I state only -what I can prove." - -"You cannot prove this ridiculous charge?" cried the Rector. "Mr. -Thorold is incapable of such a crime." - -"Ah!" drawled the other coolly, "you see, Mr. Thorold is scientific, -and does not look upon his deed as a crime." - -"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Phelps sharply. - -"I mean that Mr. Thorold was once a medical student--at least, I have -been told as much." - -"It is true, quite true," said Sophy, opening her eyes, for in her -innocence she did not see what the man meant. But the Rector did, and -winced. He anticipated the accuser. - -"You mean that Mr. Thorold stole the body for scientific purposes?" - -"For dissection--yes. Mr. Thorold is, I understand, an enthusiast in -surgery. Marlow--or, rather, I should say, Beauchamp--died of an -obscure disease, and Warrender and Thorold removed the body to hold a -post-mortem on it. They were the men seen by Cicero Gramp--you see, I -know all about it. They probably carried the body to the moor hut to -dissect it. Whether they quarreled or not, I do not know, nor do I -know if it was Thorold who killed the doctor. All I say is, that those -two stole the body." - -"Oh, indeed!" remarked Mr. Phelps ironically, "and Thorold put the -remains of Dr. Warrender back in the vault, I suppose? And what did he -do with Marlow's body?" - -"I don't know. Buried it on the moor, very likely." - -"Mr. Thorold had not the key of the vault," cried Sophy indignantly. -"It had been stolen by the Quiet Gentleman." - -"So I understand," retorted Lestrange sharply. "And who says so? Mr. -Thorold himself. Believe me, sir," he turned to the Rector, "that key -was never stolen. Thorold had it in his pocket. He lied about that for -his own safety." - -"I don't believe it," said Mr. Phelps decisively. "Thorold was at -Bournemouth on the night the crime was committed." - -"I know he was!" cried Sophy, with emphasis. "He was with me and Miss -Parsh." - -"You are wrong, both of you. He came back to Heathton on that night, -and returned to Bournemouth before dawn. I understand it is only an -hour's journey from here." - -"It is not true," insisted Sophy uneasily. "I saw Mr. Thorold at eight -o'clock that night at the Soudan Hotel." - -"I dare say. But at ten o'clock he was at Heathton." - -"How can you prove that?" - -"If you will permit me," said Lestrange, and rising, he left the room. - -Before Mr. Phelps and Sophy could exchange a remark, he was back again -with a man who had evidently been waiting. - -"Jarks!" cried the Rector, much annoyed. "And what has Jarks to do -with this preposterous story?" - -"If you ask him he will tell you," said Lestrange politely, and -resumed his seat. - -The Rector looked indignantly at his sexton, who, as minor official in -the church, should have quailed before his superior. But there was no -quailing or cringing about Jarks. The old fellow was as malicious as a -magpie, and as garrulous. Looking more rusty than ever, he stood -twisting his greasy old hat, and shifting from one leg to the other. - -"Oh, I seed Muster Alan; yes, I seed un. On the night o' the funeral I -were in the yard, a lookin' at 'em as I'd tucked away, an' I clapped -eyes on Muster Alan. He wor' lookin' at the vault where I'd put away -the last of 'em, he wor." - -"About what time was that?" asked Mr. Phelps, with severity. - -"Well, it might be about ten, Muster Phelps, sir." - -"And what were you doing out of bed at that hour?" - -"Lookin' at 'em," retorted Jarks, wiping his mouth. "Lor' bless you, -Muster Phelps, all in the yard's m'own handiwork save some of the old -uns. I like to see 'em all quiet an' humble in their narrow homes. Ay, -an' I seed Muster Alan, an' he sez, 'I've come to look round, Jarks, -an' you needn't say as I've bin about. Here's money for ye.' Ay, he -did say that, an' guv me money. Course I said nothin' as there isn't -no law agin folk walkin' round to see how them as has passed away is -gettin' along." - -"How long was Mr. Thorold with you?" - -"It might be about five minutes, sir. He went to ketch a train at the -half-hour to go back to Miss Sophy--hopin' I sees you well, miss!" -with a pull of his forelock to the girl, who was standing pale and -trembling at this disastrous confirmation. - -"Why didn't you tell me this, Jarks?" - -"Lor' bless you, Miss Sophy, 'twas little use vexin' you. 'Sides, when -I found Muster Marlow was gone, arter bein' put away comfortable-like -in the vault, I did say to Muster Alan arterwards as it wasn't -friendly-like of him to upset my handiwork. But Muster Alan he says as -he had nowt to do with the takin' of him, an' how he got out of the -vault, being screwed and soldered down, was more than he knew. So he -being the squire, Miss Sophy, it wasn't my place to say nothin'. I -knows the station of life I've bin called to." - -"It was your duty to come to me," said the Rector severely. - -"Naw, naw!" Jarks shook his head. "'Tain't no good makin' bad blood, -Muster Phelps. Muster Alan wor in the yard, but he didn't take the -last of 'em away." - -"I say he did!" put in Lestrange, with emphasis. - -"Ay, ay! You thinks you knows a lot. But I tell you, you don't. If it -wasn't that I let slip to that fat un while mazed wi' drink, as I seed -Muster Alan, you'd niver have know'd naught. Naw! But when the wine's -in Jarks he talks foolish-like. Ay, he babbles as a babe does Jarks!" - -"Who is this fat man he speaks of?" asked Sophy. - -"My other witness," replied Lestrange promptly. "You can go, Jarks. -Send in Cicero." - -The sexton nodded, wiped his mouth, and backed to the door with a -final excuse. - -"As I wor sayin', Muster Phelps, 'twouldn't be right to blame Jarks -for holdin' the tongue o' he, Muster Alan wantin' it so. But the red -wine--which is to say, beer an' such like--maketh the heart of Jarks -glad, as sez Holy Scripture. An' I'll go now, wishin' you an' Miss -Sophy happiness an' long life." - -After which apologetic speech the old sinner creaked out of the room -pulling his forelock. - -"You see," said Lestrange, with a triumphant look at the other two, -"Thorold was in Heathton, and in the churchyard on that night." - -"It would seem so; but that does not prove he took away the body," put -in Sophy. - -"My second witness can prove that. Come in, Cicero." - -The fat man, resplendent in new clothes, rolled into the room. - -"Pax vobiscum," said he. - -The Rector turned an angry glance on him. - -"This is not the time for playing the fool," he said cuttingly. "You -are a cunning rogue, but some day you will overreach yourself. Now, -then, out with your lie." - -"Lie! I scorn to pervert the truth, reverend sir. I shall tell the -truth _in puris naturalibus_." - -"I hope not," threw in the Rector, laughing, in spite of himself, at -this abuse of quotation. - -"Which means, reverend sir," went on the old scoundrel coolly, "that -in the hut on the heath I found the corpse of Dr. Warrender." - -"But not the body of my father," said Sophy. - -"No, but I saw that taken away from the vault. Undoubtedly, Miss -Marlow, the body was carried to the hut for the purpose of dissection -by Mr. Thorold. He was foolish enough to leave behind him evidence of -his iniquitous purposes. Behold!" and Cicero produced a lancet in his -most dramatic manner. "Nota bene," said he grandly. - -Phelps bent forward and took the instrument in his hand. It had an -ivory handle, on which were carved two letters, "A. T." - -"You found this in the hut?" he asked. - -"I did, reverend sir. It must have been dropped by Mr. Thorold. If -not, how did it come there? I pause for a reply." - -"Why did you not tell Mr. Thorold about this?" demanded Sophy. - -"I bided my time----" - -"To blackmail him!" she cried, with scorn. - -"A harsh word, Miss Sophia. Certainly I would have demanded a small -payment from Mr. Thorold, had I shown him that. But Mr. Thorold -insulted me, it matters not how. _Nemo me impune lacessit_, Miss -Sophia, and I determined to punish the young man. My military friend -was good enough to enter into partnership with me for the purpose of -clearing up this matter, hence I told him of my discovery. There is no -more to be said." - -"Save this," put in Lestrange, who appeared to be getting somewhat -weary of Cicero's cumbersome diction, "that here is the proof that it -was Thorold who carried off the body. Do you believe now in his -guilt?" - -"I reserve my opinion," said the Rector, who could not but acknowledge -to himself that things looked black for Alan. - -"I don't!" cried Sophy, rising. "If fifty men, with fifty lancets, -came to tell me this story, I would not believe a word against Mr. -Thorold. He can explain. I believe in him firmly, and, to prove my -belief, I shall marry him as soon as I can." - -"You'll do nothing of the sort!" cried Lestrange, losing his temper. -"I am your father, and I command you to come with me." - -"And I am my own mistress, and I refuse," she said quietly. "You can't -frighten me. I don't believe your stories." - -"Nor do I," said the Rector. "When Mr. Thorold comes back, he will, no -doubt, be able to explain his presence in Heathton on that night, and -also the loss of his lancet." - -"He shall explain it to the police!" cried Lestrange, in a threatening -manner. - -"No, no," said Cicero, apprehensive at this mention of his natural -enemies; "let us take counsel together. Cannot this matter be -adjusted, so that Mr. Thorold may escape the reward of his iniquitous -proceedings?" - -Sophy looked at him with a satirical smile. Then she turned to address -Lestrange as the senior partner in this firm of scoundrels. - -"How much do you want?" she asked. - -The Captain winced. He did not like the question to be put quite so -crudely. - -"I do not understand," he said. - -"I think you do. How much do you require to hold your tongue?" - -"Say five thousand," whispered Mr. Gramp. - -But Lestrange shook him off, and marched to the door very upright and -indignant. - -"I will let you know my price----" - -"Ah!" said Sophy scornfully. - -"When I have seen the police," finished he, and marched out. - -Cicero had to follow, but he turned at the door and winked. - -"He will not go to the police," said he, in a hurried voice. "Might I -suggest five----" - -"Be off, you scoundrel!" cried the Rector indignantly, and thrust him -out. - -Then he resumed his seat, and looked at Sophy. - -"Well?" said he. - -"Alan can explain," said she decisively. - -"But if Lestrange goes to the police?" - -"He won't," she said. "Cicero will stop that. Meanwhile I wait for -Alan." - -They talked on for a long time, but could come to no conclusion. -Undoubtedly Alan had been near the vault on that night, had been in -the hut, and had said nothing of these things to any one. It certainly -looked suspicious, but Sophy insisted that her lover could and would -explain. In spite of appearances, she had faith in Alan's honesty and -in Alan's honor. - -That same evening she dined with the Rector, without even Miss Vicky -in attendance. - -Towards the end of the meal, Alan walked in unexpectedly. He looked -somewhat downcast, but there was no sign of fear in his bearing. After -greetings had been exchanged he sat down with them. Neither the Rector -nor Sophy was anxious to inform him of the accusation which had been -brought against him. - -"How went the business?" asked Mr. Phelps. - -"Badly--for us," was the reply. "Lestrange certainly arrived by the -boat he said he came by. I saw his name, Achille Lestrange, on the -passenger-list of the _Negress_." - -"Ah! the devil speaks true sometimes!" said the Rector. "And what -about Beauchamp?" - -"Yes, yes!" cried Sophy. "Did you find him? Did you see him?" - -"No," replied Alan quietly, "but I heard of him. Beauchamp is dead!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. -ALAN'S DEFENSE - - -"Dead!" repeated Sophy, after a pause. "Then was this Mr. Beauchamp -really my father or a relative?" - -"I think he was Mr. Marlow, dear," said her lover gravely. "No doubt -your father intended to feign death to escape Lestrange, but it would -seem that he overdid it, and really died. I saw the manager of the -Occidental Bank. He informed me that he had received a letter telling -him that Beauchamp was dead." - -"How long ago was this?" - -"A little over a week." - -"Who wrote the letter?" - -"That he refused to tell me." - -"Had he seen this Mr. Beauchamp, to whom the money was to be paid?" - -"Never. Your father had informed him that he had left an income to -Beauchamp, and that drafts for the money were to be sent to a certain -place--where, I don't know. The manager sent a draft, but it was -returned to him with a letter stating that the man was dead. For my -own part, I believe that Mr. Marlow was Beauchamp. His plan to hide -himself from Lestrange has succeeded only too well." - -Mr. Phelps now joined in. - -"Then I understand, Alan, that you think Marlow is really dead?" - -"I do. If he had only feigned death, then Beauchamp would be receiving -his income. In my opinion, the two men are one and the same. I believe -Lestrange's story so far." - -"Humph!" said the Rector, who was really of the same opinion. "But let -us leave this question for the moment and talk of the other. You say -that Lestrange arrived on the day and by the boat he asserted that he -did?" - -"I saw the passenger-list myself. If he had not been on board, -his name would not have been there. Even he could not falsify a -passenger-list." - -"Then our idea that Lestrange was the Quiet Gentleman is false?" - -"It must be, sir. The man--Lestrange I mean--was not in England when -the Quiet Gentleman lived in this village. I believe Brown had to do -with the stealing of the body and the murder. But, then, Brown is not -Lestrange. Who he is I don't know!" - -"Alan!" cried Sophy--for if what Lestrange stated was true, this -hypocrisy was detestable--"you are not straightforward with me!" - -"Indeed I am," he said, with a stare of astonishment. "I have told you -of my discoveries. Why should I deceive you?" - -"Why, indeed!" said the girl bitterly. "You know how much I -love you, yet you keep me in the dark about matters which concern -us both--matters which I, if any one, have a right to know." - -He might have had some inkling of what she meant, for his face turned -a dark red. Nevertheless, he held himself well in hand, and looked -inquiringly at the Rector. - -"What does she mean, sir?" - -"I think you can guess," said Phelps, more coldly than he had ever -before spoken to Alan. - -"No; upon my word, I----" - -Sophy rose from her chair and closed his mouth with her hand. - -"Don't! don't!" she cried despairingly. - -"I can't bear it. Captain Lestrange----" She hesitated. - -"Ah!" said Alan fiercely. "I might have guessed he had been making -mischief. Well, and what does he say?" - -"That you stole my father's body, Alan!" - -"I--I--stole the body?" - -"Yes!" chimed in the Rector. "And he further says that you took it to -the hut on the heath, where Warrender's corpse was found." - -"Oh, indeed!" cried the young man derisively. "And did I murder -Warrender, too?" - -"Alan! Alan! Oh, don't jest! If you love me, Alan, tell me the truth." - -"Sophy! What do you mean?" He pushed away his plate and rose. "Do you -believe this man's tale for one moment? Am I the man to violate a -grave--to drag the remains of a man I respected and honored to the -light of day? You must be mad to think of such a thing! How dare he -bring forward such a terrible--such a dastardly accusation? For what -reason does he say that I did it?" - -"Out of revenge, I expect," said Phelps. "He dislikes you, Alan. He -says you took poor Marlow's body to dissect it." - -"And bases his lie upon some gossip of my having been a medical -student, I suppose?" cried the young man, now thoroughly angry. "I'll -thrash the scoundrel within an inch of his life!" - -"Oh, Alan, I am so glad--so thankful! I said so, didn't I, Mr. Phelps? -You didn't do it!" - -"Do it--of course I didn't do it! Why should I? Phelps,"--Alan forgot -his respect for the Rector in his rage--"do you believe this lying -story?" - -"Knowing you as I do, I don't believe it. But I must say that -Lestrange--he is a very dangerous man--makes out a strong case against -you." - -"Oh! Let me hear on what grounds." - -"Alan!" Sophy came forward and took him by the lapels of his coat, -"before we tell you anything, confess if you have kept anything from -us." - -He looked at her in a puzzled manner. Then a light seemed to dawn upon -him. He glanced at the Rector. - -"Now I understand, Mr. Phelps. Jarks has told you." - -"Told me what?" asked the Rector, with well-feigned ignorance. - -"I see! I see!" Alan sat down again. "It's all right, Sophy. I kept -that from you only that you should not be worried. So Lestrange found -out--from Jarks, I suppose--that I was at Heathton on the night of the -funeral?" - -"Yes, yes. Oh, Alan, is it true?" - -"True--of course it is. Why should it not be true? Does the fact of my -having been here corroborate this cock-and-bull story? You ought to -know me better, Sophy, and you too, Phelps." - -"I couldn't believe it--I didn't," cried the girl. - -"Nor I. We both told him that he lied. But I must admit that things -looked bad for you, as he put it. Why didn't you tell us you were at -Heathton on that night? Why did you come? Was there any serious reason -for such secrecy?" - -"No reason whatsoever," replied the young man frankly, "save the -trifling one that I did not want to bother Sophy with my suspicions. -Yes, I came by the 8.30 train from Bournemouth, and I returned at -half-past eleven. I had to go to another station to keep my secret, -you know. Jarks saw me in the graveyard about ten, and as I wished to -keep my visit quiet, for the reason I have told you, I gave him -something to hold his tongue. It appears that he did not. I suppose -Lestrange bribed him?" - -"Well, no," said the Rector, "not exactly. Jarks, in his cups, told -that scoundrel Gramp, and he told Lestrange." - -"Oh! So there are two of them in league to make trouble. A proper pair -of scoundrels!" - -"But," said Sophy, more composedly, "you have not told us why you -came." - -"I came," said her lover, determined now to make a clean breast of it, -"to look at the vault--to see that all was safe." - -The Rector uttered an exclamation of astonishment. - -"Did you expect, then, that there would be some foul play?" - -"Well, I hardly know, sir. It was this way: After Mr. Marlow received -that letter from the West Indies--which doubtless warned him that -Lestrange was on his track--he was much worried. He would not tell me -the reason, but kept speaking of some shock he had had which might -cause his death. 'And I don't know if the scoundrel will let my body -rest in its grave,' he said in a fit of passion. I asked to whom he -alluded, but he would say no more. When he died so unexpectedly, his -words came back to me. I wondered if he had enemies who might disturb -his remains, and all that day after the funeral I felt so bothered -about it that I could not rest without coming back to see if all was -well." - -"And you found nothing wrong?" - -"Nothing, sir. I was in the churchyard for about a quarter of an hour. -I examined the door of the vault, and saw everything was right. As I -came away I met Jarks; the rest you know." - -"You saw no signs of that tramp in the churchyard?" - -"None! I expect he was sleeping when I was there. According to his -story, it was after midnight when the vault was opened." - -"Alan," said Sophy, much relieved, "how is it they did not know at -Heathton Station that you were here?" - -"I did not go to Heathton Station. I stopped at Murbury, and walked -from there across the heath. I went back the same way. I did so simply -to keep the tongues of gossips quiet. I did not want you to be -worried, Sophy; and after all," he said, after a pause, "beyond the -chance words of your father I had no reason to think that anything was -wrong. Ah! if I had only stayed in the churchyard all night, I should -have prevented this trouble. The vault would never have been broken -into, and poor Warrender would still be alive." - -The Rector nodded approval of this speech, and poured himself out a -glass of wine, which, poor man, he sadly needed. Lestrange's -accusation had been disproved; still, there remained the evidence of -Cicero. Sophy put the question which was in the Rector's mind. - -"Captain Lestrange brought Cicero here, Alan," she said abruptly, "and -he--Cicero, I mean--declared that you were in the hut on the moor that -night." - -"I was not!" cried young Thorold hotly. "I was never near the hut. Why -should I have been? Ask yourself, as I had to walk to and from -Murbury, and spend a quarter of an hour in the churchyard, had I time -to cross the moor all the distance to the hut?" - -"Of course, you know I don't believe it. But Cicero----" - -"Well, and how can he prove I was there?" he said impatiently. - -"He found something there which belonged to you." - -"What?" - -"A lancet." - -"A lancet! And why mine? Warrender was a doctor; he took away the -body--why should the lancet not belong to him? If he had intended to -dissect the body--which he might have, for all I know--he would want -one." - -"No doubt," Mr. Phelps said dryly. "But this lancet had your initials -on the ivory handle. It is your lancet, Alan, and it is now in -Cicero's possession." - -"H'm! that's queer. Initials?--yes, it might be mine. But how did it -get there?" - -"Did you ever lend a lancet to Dr. Warrender?" - -"No, not that I can remember." - -"Then there was the other man, his accomplice, Brown the----" - -"Ha!" cried Alan, starting up and pacing the room. "I see, I see!" - -"See what?" cried Sophy eagerly. - -"How the lancet came to be found in the hut. The Quiet Gentleman stole -it." - -"Stole it?" - -"Of course. Did he not steal the key of the vault from my desk? There -was a case of lancets in the same drawer; he took one. Ha! this proves -to me that Brown stole the body and murdered Warrender. A clever -scoundrel! He stole my lancet to throw suspicion on me." Alan clenched -his hands and looked upward. "In God's name, what does this roguery -mean?" - -It was indeed a perplexing case. They were all in the dark, and such -gleams of light as came served only to confuse them the more. -Lestrange could not be the Quiet Gentleman, for, as had been proved by -Alan, he had landed in England only the week before. Brown was the -_deus ex machina_ who could put matters right, and Brown had vanished. -He could reappear only at the risk of being charged with murder. - -Why had the body been removed? If it were a case of blackmailing, the -claim would have been made long since. The police were apparently as -much at a loss as Alan himself. And Blair---- - -"Does Blair know of this accusation?" asked Mr. Thorold suddenly. - -"I am certain he does not," answered the Rector emphatically. "In the -first place, it was only made to-day. Lestrange, I am sure, wants -money, and would come to us before going to the police." - -"If he does not want money, Cicero does," put in Sophy scornfully. - -"In the second place," resumed Mr. Phelps, "Blair is away." - -"Where has he gone?" - -"I can't say, but he will be back in a fortnight." - -"Well," said Alan moodily, "I don't know if he will be much good when -he does come. I shall see this firm of scoundrels at the Good -Samaritan, and threaten them with the police, unless they tell all -they know. Lestrange is as bad as Cicero, and I know _him_ to be a -scoundrel. What's that?" - -This exclamation was drawn from him by the violent ringing of the -door-bell. Before the sounds had ceased, Miss Vicky, red, hot and -agitated, rushed in a most unladylike manner into the room. - -"Oh, Sophy! Mr. Phelps! Mr. Alan! I really never! Joseph Brill--oh, -that Joseph Brill! He's back again!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. -JOE'S EVIDENCE - - -For a moment the three gazed in silence and amazement at the old maid. -She stood before them, all tousled and red with haste, a figure of fun -she would not have recognized for herself. Her buckram demeanor had -for once given way to the real woman. Alan was the first to speak, and -he jumped up from the table with a shout of joy. From an unexpected -quarter, in the most unexpected manner, help had come, and at the -moment when it was most needed. - -"Joe Brill!" cried Mr. Thorold. "He is the very man I want. Where is -he, Miss Vicky?" - -"At the Moat House. I went to the kitchen for a moment; he was -there--he had just come in. I thought he was a ghost," declared the -little lady solemnly; "indeed I did until he convinced me that he was -flesh and blood." - -"What explanation did he make?" asked Sophy anxiously. - -"None--to me. He said he was ready to explain his absence to Mr. -Thorold." - -"Did he? Then he shall have the chance. Go back to the Moat House, -Miss Parsh, and send on Joe to the Good Samaritan." - -"Why there of all places?" asked the Rector. - -"Because I am going to see Lestrange, and force the truth out of him. -There shall be an end to all this devilment. He accuses me, does he!" -cried Thorold, with an ugly look. "Let him have a care lest I accuse -him, and prove my accusation, too, with the help of Joe Brill." - -"Joseph!" cried Miss Parsh, quite at sea. "What can he do?" - -"He can prove if Lestrange's story is true or false." - -"Story, Mr. Alan! What story?" - -"Never mind, Vicky," put in Sophy, catching Miss Parsh's arm. She saw -that Alan was growing impatient. "Come back home, and we will send Joe -on to the inn. Come, you look quite upset." - -"And I am upset," wailed the poor woman. "I ran all the way to tell -you that Joseph had returned--like a thief in the night," she added. -"Oh, dear me! and I'm so hot and untidy. I don't like these dreadful -things!" Miss Vicky suddenly caught sight of herself in an adjacent -mirror, and made a hasty attempt to arrange her disordered dress. "Oh, -what a spectacle for a genteel gentlewoman to present! A glass of -wine, Mr. Phelps, I beg of you." - -The Rector poured out the wine in silence, then turned to Alan. - -"Shall I come with you!" - -"No, sir. Joe and I are quite able to deal with this brace of -blackguards." - -"Remember that Lestrange is a dangerous man, Alan." - -"So am I," retorted the other grimly. "If I happen to find a whip -handy, I don't know what I might be tempted to do." - -"But if Joe declares that Lestrange is Sophy's father?" - -"He is not my father!" cried Sophy. "His story is a lie! I am the -daughter of Richard Marlow." - -"Sophia! This man--your father!" wailed Miss Vicky. "Oh dear, what is -all this?" - -"I'll tell you when we get home," said the girl. "Alan, I will send -Joe to the inn at once." - -And she led the weeping Vicky from the room. - -"Let me come, Alan. You will want a witness." - -"Joe will be witness enough," said the young man decisively. "No, sir; -better let me see him alone; there may be rough work. Your cloth----" - -"Deuce take my cloth!" cried the Rector. "Bless me, may I be forgiven! -My cloth might keep the peace." - -"I don't want the peace kept," retorted Thorold. "Unless that Creole -Frenchman apologizes I'll thrash him!" - -The Rector stared, and well he might. All the well-bred composure had -gone from Alan's face and manner, the veneer of civilization was -stripped off, and man, primeval man, showed naked and unashamed. He -stared back at the clergyman, and for quite a minute the two looked at -one another. Then the younger man turned and left the room, and Mr. -Phelps made no attempt to stay him. He knew that he might as well have -tried to chain a whirlwind. He bowed to circumstances and sat down -again to his wine. - -"I hope to Heaven he'll keep himself in hand," he muttered, without -his usual self-apology for swearing. "Lestrange is dangerous; but -Alan, in his present mood, is more so. I should not care to be the man -to meet him with that look on his face. Dear! dear!" The little man -sighed. "I wish all these mysteries were over and done with, and we -could resume the quiet tenor of our way." - -Meantime, Alan was making for the inn. It was just on nine o'clock, -and the night had turned out wet. As he had no overcoat, the rain was -soaking him. But he did not care for that. His blood was on fire to -meet this man and force the truth out of him. He was certain that -Lestrange could explain much if he chose; and whether he chose or not, -Alan intended that he should speak out. He was determined that an end -should be put to these troubles. - -The rain whipped his face and drenched him, but he walked on steadily. -There was no gas in Heathton, which was so far uncivilized, and the -roads were dark and miry. Not until he got into the principal street -did he leave the mud and the darkness behind him. Then before him -glimmered the feeble lantern over the door, with which Mrs. Timber -illuminated the entrance to her premises. Alan could hear the drowsy -voices of the villagers sitting over their ale in the taproom;--heard -above the rest the pompous speech of Cicero, who was evidently playing -his favorite part of Sir Oracle. - -In the hall Mr. Thorold was found by the landlady. The woman pervaded -the house like a fly, and was always to be discovered where she was -least expected. She recognized Alan, curtsied and awaited -instructions. - -"Take me," he said abruptly, "to Captain Lestrange." - -"Lor', sir!" Mrs. Timber, in her amazement, overstepped the bounds of -class. "You said he was no friend of yours, sir." - -"Nor is he. Come, show me his room. He is in, I suppose?" - -"Catch him wetting himself!" she said, leading the way, with a sour -smile. "He's a furrin' Jack-o-dandy, that he is. Not but what he don't -pay reg'lar. But I see the color of his money afore my meat goes down -his throat. This is the door, sir." - -"Very good. And, Mrs. Timber, should Joe Brill come, show him in -here." - -"Joe Brill!" yelped the landlady, throwing up her hands. "You don't -mean to say as he's back, Mr. Alan! Well, I never did! And I thought -he'd run away because of the murder." - -"You think too much, Mrs. Timber. Some day you will get yourself into -trouble. Now go, and don't forget my orders." - -Chilled by the severity of his tone, Mrs. Timber crept away, somewhat -ashamed. Alan knocked at the door, heard the thin voice of Lestrange -call out "Entrez," and went in. The man was lying on the sofa, reading -a French novel by the light of a petroleum lamp, and smoking a -cigarette. When Alan appeared, he rose quickly into a sitting -position, and stared at his visitor. Of all men, the last he had -expected to see was the one he had so basely accused. The thought -flashed into his mind that Thorold had come to have it out with him. -But Lestrange, whatever his faults, was not wanting in a certain -viperish courage. He rose to greet his enemy with a smile which -cloaked many things. - -"Good-evening, Mr. Thorold," he said, with a wary glance; "to what am -I indebted for this visit?" - -"You shall know that before long," replied Alan, closing the door. He -was now considerably cooler, and had made up his mind that more was to -be got out of this man by diplomacy than by blind rage. "Have I your -permission to sit down?" he asked, with studied politeness. - -"Certainly, my dear sir. Will you smoke?" - -"No, thank you." - -"Have some refreshment, then?" - -"No, thank you." - -"Ah!" sneered Lestrange, throwing himself again on the couch, "your -visit is not so amiable as I fancied. You come as my enemy." - -"Considering your behavior, it would be strange if I came as anything -else." - -"My behavior?" - -"I refer to your interview with Mr. Phelps and Miss Marlow." - -"Mademoiselle Lestrange, if you please." - -"Ah, that is for you to prove!" - -"I shall prove it," said the other, quite unmoved, "in open court." - -"That will be a harder task than you imagine," retorted Alan quickly. -"But I am not here to discuss Miss Marlow's parentage. My errand is to -ask you why you have accused me of taking away the body of her -father." - -"Richard Marlow was not her father," replied the man with heat. - -"So you say--we can pass that point, as I told you before. I speak of -the charge you have thought fit to bring against me." - -"It is a true one. I am willing to take it into court." - -"You may be brought into court sooner than you expect," remarked Alan -dryly; and from the sudden start the man gave he saw that the shot had -gone home. "On what grounds do you base this charge?" - -"If Mr. Phelps reported the interview correctly, you must know," said -he sullenly. - -"To save time," retorted Alan, "I may as well admit that I do know. -Jarks and Cicero speak the truth." - -Lestrange looked surprised. - -"Then you admit your guilt?" - -"No; that is quite another thing. I admit that I was in Heathton on -that night when Jarks saw me. What I came for does not concern you, -Captain Lestrange; but I can prove also that I was back in Bournemouth -before twelve o'clock. You will observe that I can establish an -alibi." - -"Upon my word, I really believed you guilty!" cried the Captain with -sincerity. - -"No doubt," was the scornful reply. "The wish is father to the -thought. I will thank you not to accuse me falsely again." - -"You have to explain away the finding of the lancet." - -"That was stolen from my desk, with the key of the vault, by a man -called Brown, whom I believe to have been guilty of a crime. You need -not try to fasten the guilt upon me! I can defend myself--to use your -favorite phrase--in open court, if necessary." - -"Your word is enough," protested Lestrange. "I was wrong to accuse -you!" - -"Very wrong. You did it out of spite----" - -"No, no! I really believed----" - -"What you wished yourself to believe," interrupted Alan in his -turn. "It was my intention to have given you a thrashing, Captain -Lestrange----" - -"Sir!" the man started up white with rage. - -"But I have changed my mind," pursued Alan, without noticing the -interruption. "I now intend to take another course. If you do not at -once leave Heathton, I shall bring a charge against you of defamation -of character." - -"Oh!" Lestrange shrugged his shoulders. "You are a true English -shop-keeper. A man should protect himself by more honorable means." - -"I know very well what I am about, sir. I wish to bring you into -contact with the law. For that reason--unless you go--I shall bring -the action." - -"And what can the law do to me?" he asked defiantly. "I have committed -no wrong." - -"You intend to. Oh! I know that you are innocent of taking Marlow's -body, and of murdering Warrender. But you are here to blackmail Miss -Marlow on the threat of proclaiming her dead father a murderer." - -"I am here to claim my daughter!" shouted Lestrange fiercely. "Sophia -Marlow I know nothing of; but Marie Lestrange is the daughter of -Achille Lestrange, and I"--the Captain struck his breast--"I am he!" - -While he was still posing in a very effective attitude, the door -opened, and Mrs. Timber ushered in Joe Brill. Hardly had it closed, -when Brill took a step forward, staring at Lestrange as though he had -seen a vision. Lestrange turned white, this time not with rage but -with fear. In the silence which ensued Alan looked from one to the -other, wondering what revelation was about to be made. Joe was the -first to speak. - -"You swab!" cried Joe. "D----d if it ain't Captain Jean!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. -A PORTION OF THE TRUTH - - -Joe was not in the least changed. Wherever he had been, in whatever -nefarious transactions he had been engaged, he was still the -mahogany-colored, tough old sailor whom nothing could surprise or -alarm. After having greeted Lestrange he hitched up his trousers in -true nautical style and touched his forehead. - -"You wished to see me, sir," he said to Alan, and took a sidelong -glance at the Captain. That polished scoundrel had, for once, lost his -coolness, and, colorless with rage, was glaring at the seaman like a -devil. - -"Joe," said the squire, as soon as he could take in the situation, -"you are making a mistake." - -"Not me, sir! I knows a shark when I sees one." - -"But this is Captain Achille Lestrange." - -"Curse me if he is!" cried Joe vigorously. "Achille weren't no -captain. This one's a captain right enough, and a blazing fine lobster -he is! Jean's his name, sir, but he ain't a Scotch girl, for all that. -No, it's the French lingo for John." - -"I am Achille Lestrange," persisted the Captain, very shrill and very -short of breath. "This man is a liar!" - -"Say that again, and I'll knock the teeth down your throat!" growled -Joe, like an angry mastiff. "Achille be blowed! I know'd you twenty -year ago in the islands, I did, and a bad lot you were then. Jean -Lestrange--why, there never was a wuss lot! I never did think much of -Achille, for all his money; but you----" - -Joe spat to show his disgust. - -"Then this man is not Sophy's father?" gasped Alan. - -"Oh, he sez that, does he, the lubber? Missy's father! Why, he ain't -fit to be her shoeblack!" - -"Achille was the girl's father," said Lestrange sullenly. He saw that -it was useless to lie in face of Joe's positive knowledge. "And if I'm -not her father, I'm her uncle." - -"That's a d----d lie!" put in Joe. "You weren't no more nor Achille's -cousin. What you are to missy, I don't know. But she won't have -nothing to do with you, you landshark!" - -"Joe, do you mean to say your late master is not Sophy's father?" - -"I do, sir. It's got to come out somehow, if only to put a stop to -that devil's pranks. She's the daughter of Achille Lestrange." - -"Who was murdered by Marlow!" finished the Captain savagely. "Ah, my -friends, I have still some cards left." - -"You'll have no teeth left!" growled Joe, making a step forward. -"You're a liar, Captain Jean--you always was! Mr. Marlow----" - -"Beauchamp," corrected Lestrange, with a glance at Alan. - -"Beauchamp it is," continued Brill coolly. "Oh, you needn't be afeared -that I'm going to lie! But Mr. Beauchamp never stabbed Munseer -Achille, and you know it, you lubber! Let me get at him, Mr. Thorold!" - -"No, no, Joe!" Alan kept the irate seaman back. "We'll deal with this -gentleman in a better fashion. Sit down, Joe, while we talk it over." - -Joe nodded, and sat down on a chair, which he placed directly before -the door. - -With a glare that showed he noticed and resented this action, -Lestrange resumed his seat. He was too clever a man not to recognize -that Joe's cunning would dislocate his plans. But he was evidently -determined to fight to the last. At present he held his tongue, for he -wanted to hear what Joe would say. He preferred, for the moment, to -remain strictly on the defensive. - -It was with a thankful heart that Alan Thorold realized the value of -Joe as an ally. At one time he had really believed that Lestrange was -truly Sophy's father, and although she would never have admitted the -relationship, still it was satisfactory to know that the man had no -claim on her obedience. The knowledge of Lestrange's falsehood cleared -the air somewhat. For one thing, it proved conclusively that the -Captain had come to blackmail the girl. His claim to be her father was -doubtless made in the hope that she would accompany him back to -Jamaica, and would give him control of her money. Failing this--and -Lestrange had long since realized that there was no doing anything -with Sophy in a paternal way--there remained the chance that, to -preserve Marlow's memory from stain, she might buy his silence. - -Thus Lestrange argued, and Alan, with his eyes on the man's expressive -face, guessed his thoughts and answered them. - -"No, Lestrange," he said, with decision, "you won't get one penny." - -"We shall see about that," was the rejoinder. - -"Of course. We are going to see about it now. You will be brought to -your bearings, sir. Joe, you say that this man is Jean Lestrange?" - -"Yes, sir. But may I ask, Mr. Thorold, how you know about the shark?" - -"I have heard the story from his own lips, Joe. He claimed to be -Achille Lestrange and Miss Sophy's father." - -"Did he, now, the swab! and you know, sir, how Mrs. Lestrange ran away -to Mr. Beauchamp from the way her husband treated her?" - -"I know----" - -"Achille treated Zelia well," interrupted the Captain; "only too -well." - -"That's another lie!" retorted Joe. "He was fond-like of her the first -year they were married, but it was you, Captain Jean, who made a mess -of them. You made him jealous of Mr. Beauchamp, and he treated her -crool. No wonder she ran away, poor lass!" - -"Did the way Achille treated Zelia give Beauchamp any right to murder -him?" - -"He didn't murder him. You know he didn't." - -"He did, I say. Achille was found stabbed to the heart on the veranda -of Beauchamp's house. Zelia was dead, and your master took the child -away to his yacht at Falmouth. You were on board." - -"Yes," said Joe coolly, "I wos; and it wos well for you, Captain Jean, -that I wasn't near the house that same evening. I'd ha' wrung your -neck, I would! Anyhow, master didn't kill Munseer Achille." - -"There was a warrant out for his arrest, however." - -"I know that, Captain Jean, and it was you who got it out. And I know -as you came over here after master from seeing his picter in the -papers. We both knowed you were coming, Captain Jean." - -Alan interposed: - -"Was that the West Indian letter, Joe?" - -"Yes, sir, it was. Master got a letter from a friend of his in Jamaica -telling him this swab was after him to say as he'd murdered Munseer -Achille, which," added Joe, deliberately eyeing Lestrange, "is a -d----d lie!" - -"Then who killed Achille?" sneered the Captain, quivering with rage. - -"I dunno rightly," replied Mr. Brill stolidly. "I wasn't in the house -that night, or I'd ha' found out. But master ran away, because he knew -you'd accuse him out of spite. But Mr. Barkham, of Falmouth, believed -master was innocent, and know'd where he was, and what was his new -name. 'Twas he wrote the letter saying as Captain Jean was on his way -to England to make trouble." - -"Barkham!" muttered Lestrange. "Ah! he was always my enemy." - -"A shark like you, Captain Jean, ain't got no friends," remarked Joe -sententiously. - -"Do you think that Barkham's letter caused Mr. Marlow's death?" asked -Alan. - -"Do I think it, sir? Why, I knows it! After twenty years of hearing -nothing, the shock, as you might say, killed my master." - -"Then he was guilty, and my accusation was a righteous one to make," -chimed in Lestrange. "A clean conscience fears nothing." - -"Mr. Beauchamp's conscience was a darned sight cleaner nor yourn, -Captain Jean, but you had the whip-hand of him, as all those in -Jamaica thought he'd murdered Munseer Achille, from them quarreling -about him coming after his wife. But master didn't do it--I swear he -didn't! More like you did it yourself," added Joe, with a look of -contempt, "though I dare say you ain't man enough to stick a knife -into any one." - -Alan thought for a few minutes, then turned to Lestrange. - -"I think you must see that you have failed all round," he said -quietly. "Your plot to pass as Miss Marlow's father is of no use now. -The accusation against me is not worth considering, as I have shown. -If necessary, I can defend myself. On the whole, Captain Lestrange, -you had better go back to Jamaica." - -"Not without my price," said the adventurer. - -"Ah, blackmail! Well, I always thought that was at the bottom of it -all. A man with clean hands and honorable intentions would not have -joined hands with a confessed rogue like Cicero Gramp. But may I ask -on what grounds you demand money?" - -"I can prove that Beauchamp killed my cousin." - -"What good will that do? Beauchamp is dead, and beyond your malice." - -"Ay, that he is," said Joe approvingly. "He's gone where you won't get -him. I reckon you'll go the other way when your time comes, you -blasted swab!" - -Lestrange, writhing under these insults, jumped up and poured out a -volley of abuse, which the seaman bore quite unmoved. - -"I'll not go without my money," he raged, "and a good sum, too, -otherwise I shall see the girl----" - -"If you annoy Miss Marlow again, I'll have you arrested," said Alan -sharply. "We don't permit this sort of thing in England." - -"I shall put the story of Beauchamp's wickedness in all the papers." - -"As you please. It cannot harm the dead." - -"And will that girl stand by and see her father's memory disgraced?" - -"You seem to forget," said Thorold, with quiet irony, "that he was not -Miss Marlow's father. Well, there is no more to be said. If you make -yourself a nuisance, the law shall deal with you." - -"And I'll deal with him myself," said Joe. "I'll make them eyes of -yours blacker than they are by nature." - -"Leave him alone, Joe. He'll go now." - -"I won't go!" cried the man. "I'll have my price." - -Alan shrugged his shoulders. - -"I shall have to give you that thrashing, after all." - -"Let me do it, sir," put in Mr. Brill, who was simply spoiling for a -row, and he stepped towards Lestrange. - -The man's courage, genuine enough of its kind, suddenly gave way -before the ferocity of the sailor. He sprang up, ran into an inner -room and bolted the door. - -Joe uttered the roar of a baffled tiger. - -"Never mind, Joe; we're quit of him now. He will leave Heathton." - -"I'll wait for him at the station," muttered Joe, following the young -Squire out of doors. "'Tain't right that the swab should get off -scot-free." - -Outside the rain had ceased. Alan looked at his watch, and finding -that it was late, turned his face towards home. Suddenly he -recollected that Joe had not explained his absence. - -"Well, Joe, where have you been?" he asked sharply. - -"After him." Joe pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "When master's -body was carried away, I thought that shark might have done it. I -know'd he was coming from Jamaica, so I went to Southampton to see -when he arrived." - -"You did not see him?" - -"No," was the gloomy reply. "But I seed the list of passengers in one -of them boats, and his name wos on it. He couldn't have done it!" - -"I found that out myself. No; Lestrange is innocent." - -"If I'd know'd he wos on his way here to make trouble with missy, I'd -have waited," said the sailor; "but I thought if I dropped across him -I'd keep him off." - -"He stole a march on you, Joe. And you have been at Southampton all -this time?" - -"I have, sir--there and in London. But it's all right now, Mr. Alan. -He won't worry Miss Sophy any more. But now you know, sir, why I gave -a sov. to that tramp. He talked about one as sent him, and I thought -he wos talking of Captain Jean, so I hurried him away as soon as I -could, lest Miss Sophy should hear." - -"I understand, Joe. But Cicero knew nothing at that time." - -"Ah!" Joe clenched his fist. "He's another as needs a beating. Beg -pardon, sir, but I suppose you ain't found out who killed the doctor?" - -"No; I believe myself it was that man Brown, who was called the Quiet -Gentleman. Do you know who he was, Joe?" - -"No, sir, I do not," replied Joe doggedly. "Good-night, Mr. Alan," and -he walked off in great haste. - -The young Squire pursued his way to the Abbey Farm, and all the way -wondered if Joe's sudden departure hinted at an unwillingness to talk -of Brown. - -"I'll ask him about the man to-morrow," muttered Alan. - -But on the morrow he had other matters to attend to. While he was at -breakfast a card was brought to him and he jumped up with a joyful -cry. - -"Inspector Blair!" he said, throwing down the card. "Show him up, Mrs. -Hester. Ah! I wonder what he has found out." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. -A REAPPEARANCE - - -"I Am glad to see you, Blair. Sit down and have some breakfast." - -"Aha!" The inspector rubbed his hands as he looked at the well-spread -table. "I never say no to a good offer. Thank you, Mr. Thorold, I will -peck a bit." - -"You are looking well, Blair." - -"Never felt better in my life, Mr. Thorold. I have good cause to look -jolly." - -"Enjoyed your holiday, no doubt," said Alan, as he assisted the -officer liberally to ham and eggs. "Where did you spend it?" - -"In Brighton--pleasant place, Brighton." - -Blair looked so jocular, and chuckled in so pleasant a manner that the -Squire guessed he had good news. However, he resolved to let Blair -tell his story in his own way. - -"What took you to Brighton of all places?" he asked tentatively. - -"Well, you might guess. Joe Brill took me." - -"Joe Brill?" - -The inspector nodded. - -"I followed him there." - -"But I have seen Joe. He tells me he was at Southampton and in -London." - -"No doubt--a clever fellow Joe. He knows how to hold his tongue. Well, -Mr. Thorold, I hope your troubles about this matter of the lost body -will soon be at an end." - -"Blair!" Alan bent forward in a state of great excitement. "You have -found out something about it?" - -"Yes, enough to gain me a thousand pounds." - -"Not enough to gain you two thousand pounds?" - -"No." Blair's face fell. "But I intend to get that also. However, I -have learned all about the theft of Mr. Marlow's body--how it was -removed, and why it was removed." - -"By Jove! How did you find out?" - -"Through Joe Brill. Somehow I suspected Joe from the first. That -sovereign he gave Cicero Gramp, you know--I always fancied there was -something behind his anxiety to get that man away. So I had him -watched, and applied for leave of absence. When he left Heathton I -followed as a tourist," chuckled Blair. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. -Thorold, I make a very good tourist." - -"And he went to Brighton?" - -"Yes, direct to Brighton. I went there and found out all about it." - -"You don't mean to say that he stole the body!" - -"Ay, but I do and with the best intentions, too." - -"Was he the short man Cicero Gramp saw with Warrender?" - -"He was the short man," replied Blair, finishing his coffee. - -"Then, why did he not tell me?" Alan burst out angrily. "I saw him -last night, yet he said nothing. He knew how anxious Miss Marlow is -about the loss of her father's body." - -"Not her father," corrected the inspector. "Achille Lestrange was her -father." - -"What!" Alan started from his seat. "You know that?" - -"I know all--the elopement in Jamaica; the kidnapping of Marie -Lestrange, whom we know as Sophy Marlow; the coming of Jean Lestrange -to blackmail the girl, and--and--all the rest of it. You see, Mr. -Thorold, I interviewed Joe Brill this morning, and he told me all -about your conversation with that rascal. I am posted up to date, -sir." - -"Joe Brill had no business to keep me in the dark," said the squire -angrily. "He should have relieved my mind and Miss Marlow's. - -"Miss Lestrange," hinted Blair. - -"No, sir--Sophia Marlow she is, and Sophia Marlow she will remain -until she changes her name for mine. Her father is dead, and Jean -Lestrange has no claim on her. Sophia Marlow, Mr. Inspector, if you -please." - -"Well, well--as you please. We shan't quarrel about a name. Have you -anything to smoke, Mr. Thorold?" - -Alan got him an excellent cigar, and returned to the point. - -"Why did Joe keep me and Miss Marlow in the dark?" he asked. - -"Acted under orders, Mr. Thorold." - -"Whose orders?" - -"Mr. Marlow's, or rather, I should say Mr. Beauchamp's." - -"Blair!" - -Alan gasped out the name. His face was white and he was appalled at -the news. For the moment he believed the inspector must have taken -leave of his senses. - -"Oh, I dare say your astonishment is natural," said the inspector, -lighting his cigar. "I was astonished myself to find the dead man -alive and kicking. Yet I should not have been, for I suspected the -truth." - -Alan had not yet recovered from his amazement. - -"You suspected that Mr. Marlow was alive!" he said faintly. "On what -evidence?" - -"On circumstantial evidence," said Blair smartly. "When I examined the -coffin with Mr. Phelps I noticed what he did not. At the sides small -holes were bored in inconspicuous places, and the shell of the leaden -case was pierced. Only one inference could be drawn from this--that -the man had designedly been buried alive. The design must have been -carried out by Warrender and the short man. I suspected Joe, from the -fact of his having given that sovereign to Cicero, and I watched him. -Presuming my belief to be correct, I made certain that sooner or later -he would rejoin his master. As I say, he went to Brighton. I followed -close on his heels to a boarding-house in Lansdowne Place. There I saw -Mr. Marlow." - -"Did he recognize you?" - -"Of course. While he was living at Heathton I had seen Mr. Marlow -several times on business. He made no attempt when I saw him at -Brighton to disguise himself--not thinking, I suppose, that his clever -scheme to frustrate Lestrange would come to light in this way." - -"But, Blair, you did not know about Lestrange then!" - -"True enough; but I soon heard the whole story. Mr. Marlow told it to -me himself. As you may guess, he was in a great way about my having -discovered him, and seeing no means of evading the truth, he told it. -I insisted upon it, in fact; and now I know all." - -"And how did it come about?" - -Blair held up his hand. - -"No, Mr. Thorold," said he, "I shall leave Mr. Marlow--I think we had -better continue to call him so--to tell his own history. He can do it -better than I. Besides," added the inspector, rising briskly, "I have -business to do." - -"What sort of business?" - -"You can judge for yourself. I want you to come with me." - -"Where--what to do?" - -"To see Mrs. Warrender. You see, it was her husband who carried out -this scheme of feigned death to deceive Lestrange. Marlow, accused of -having murdered Achille in Jamaica, was afraid that this Captain Jean -would have him arrested. Now, Warrender was in Beauchamp's house at -Falmouth, Jamaica, when Mrs. Lestrange died, and he knew all about it. -It is my belief," added the inspector slowly, "that Beauchamp is -innocent, as he asserts himself to be, and that Warrender knew as -much." - -"But, my dear Blair," protested Alan, "in that case Warrender could -have told Marlow the truth, and could have stopped Jean Lestrange from -making mischief." - -"I dare say he could, but he did not. Warrender, my dear Mr. Thorold, -was a blackmailing scoundrel, who assumed the mask of friendship to -bamboozle Marlow. I had considerable difficulty in impressing this -view on Marlow, for, strange to say, he believed in the doctor. Joe -did not, however, and Joe told me a few facts about Warrender's -practice in Jamaica, which showed me that the doctor was not the -disinterested person he pretended to be. No, I am sure Warrender knew -Beauchamp to be innocent, and kept the fact quiet so as to retain a -hold on the man, and get money out of him. Now, do you understand why -I want to see his widow?" - -"No," replied Alan, not following the inspector's hypothesis, "I do -not. If Warrender kept the truth from Marlow, he would most certainly -have kept it from his wife. The woman would have babbled, even against -her own interests, as women always do. Mrs. Warrender can tell you -nothing--I feel sure of that." - -"You forget that the doctor may have left a confession of his -knowledge." - -"Would he have done that?" said Alan doubtfully. "It would have been a -foolish thing." - -"And when do criminals do other than foolish things?" was Blair's -response. "The murderer usually returns to the scene of his crime--as -often as not sets out its details in writing. It is impossible to -account for the actions of human beings, Mr. Thorold. It would not -surprise me in the least to hear that Warrender had written out the -whole story in a diary. If so, his wife must have found it amongst his -papers, and she will be disposed to sell it--at a long price." - -"If she had found such a document, she would have shown it to me or to -Sophy before now." - -"By no means. If she knew that Marlow were alive, then, of course, she -would realize that the document was valuable. But she believes him to -be dead." - -"Humph!" said Alan. "You seem very certain that such a document -exists." - -"Perhaps I am too sanguine," admitted Blair; "but Mr. Marlow gave me a -full account of what happened on the night Achille was murdered. -Moreover, he swore that he was innocent, and I believe him. As to -Warrender, he was a scoundrel, and I am sure that, like all -scoundrels, he has left a record of his villainies in black and white. -If this is so, I can prove Marlow's innocence, and he can defy -Lestrange." - -By this time Alan and the inspector were walking along the road which -led to Heathton. It was a bright, sunny morning, and Alan was in high -spirits. How happy Blair's news would make Sophy! - -"And Warrender, what about his death?" he asked. "Does Marlow know who -killed him?" - -"Strange as it may seem, he does not, Mr. Thorold. He is as ignorant -as you or I. That death is a mystery still." - -"But if Warrender was killed on the heath----" - -"I can't explain, Mr. Thorold. Hear Marlow's story, and you will be as -much in the dark as I am. But I suspect Lestrange." - -"So did I," replied Alan, speaking in the past tense. "But I learned -for certain that Lestrange was not in England on the night of the -murder." - -"I proved that, too," said Blair thoughtfully; "yet I can't help -thinking there is some trickery. Lestrange is at the Good Samaritan?" - -"Yes, dancing on Miss Marlow's doorstep in the hope of getting money." - -"Does he receive any letters?" - -"I don't know. Why?" - -"Merely an idea of mine. I'll tell you later on what I think." - -"You are keeping me very much in the dark, Blair," said Alan, somewhat -piqued. - -"I don't care to show incomplete work," replied the inspector bluntly. -"I believe I can unravel the whole of this mystery, but I don't want -to show you the raw material. Let me work it out my own way, Mr. -Thorold, and judge me by the result." - -"As you please. So long as you do it, I don't care how you go about -it." - -"I am working for two thousand pounds," said Blair, "and I don't -intend to let any one else have it. That blackguard tramp would like -to be the man." - -Alan laughed. - -"He has already made a clutch at it by accusing me of the theft of Mr. -Marlow's body." - -The inspector nodded and smiled grimly. - -"The two are working in unison," said he, rubbing his hands; "but I'll -catch them." - -"By the way," said Thorold, "is Mr. Marlow coming back here?" - -"To be caught by Lestrange? No, I think not. He is not such a fool. If -you want to see him, you must go to Brighton." - -"I shall go to-morrow, Blair. I am most anxious to hear the story of -that night." - -"A strange story--more like fiction than truth." - -"Truth is always stranger than fiction." - -Blair assented. They walked on through a steep lane, which led into -the High Street of the village. As they breasted this, Mrs. Marry, -with a basket on her arm, met them. She was evidently excited. - -"Well, Mrs. Marry," said Alan kindly, "what is it?" - -"The poor dear isn't dead, after all," cried the panting woman. "I -declare, Mr. Thorold, you could ha' knocked me down wi' a feather when -I saw him." - -"Saw who?" - -"Why, Mr. Brown, sir--the Quiet Gentleman. He has come back!" - - - - -CHAPTER XX. -THE AMAZEMENT OP ALAN THOROLD - - -Mrs. Marry delivered her startling piece of news with an air of -triumph. She did not guess for one moment how very important it was, -or in what peril it placed the Quiet Gentleman. - -"He came back last night," she continued, "and he told me with his -fingers how he had been lying ill in London town. Poor dear! he took -it into his head to go for a jaunt, he says, and went by the night -train. He meant to have come back to me next morning, but a nasty -influenza took him and kept him away. I'm that glad he's come back I -can't tell!" cried Mrs. Marry joyfully, "for he do pay most reg'lar, -and gives not a bit of trouble, innocent babe that he is!" and having -imparted her news, she hurried on down the lane. - -The two men stood looking at one another. - -"Brown back again!" said Alan. "Now we shall know the truth." - -"If he knows it," said Blair dryly--he was less excited than his -companion--"but I doubt if we shall learn much from him, Mr. Thorold. -If he had anything to do with the murder, he would not have come -back." - -"But he must have something to do with it, man! Have you forgotten -that it was he who stole the key of the vault from my desk?" - -"No," said Blair pointedly, "nor have I forgotten that he did not use -the key. It was Joe Brill who opened the vault." - -"Indeed! And where did Joe get the key? Not from Mr. Phelps, for he -still has his key. Ha!" cried Alan suddenly, "did Joe get it from -Brown?" - -"No, he did not. The key was not used at all. There was a third key in -existence, of which neither you nor Mr. Phelps were aware. Marlow had -had it made to provide against the contingency which arose. He had -always resolved to feign death, should Lestrange track him. So he kept -the third key, and Joe used it on that night." - -"Well, even granting that such is the case, why should Brown have -stolen my key? And how could he have known that it was in my desk?" - -"I think we discussed that point before," replied the inspector -composedly, "and that we came to the conclusion that Brown overheard -your conversation with Mr. Phelps on the day of the funeral. Where are -you going?" - -"To see Brown. I am determined to get the truth out of him." - -Blair looked at him. - -"Well, Mr. Thorold," he said, "I don't suppose it will do any harm for -you to see the man. Meanwhile I will go on to Mrs. Warrender's." - -"But you ought to come with me and arrest him." - -"I do not think I have sufficient evidence to procure a warrant, Mr. -Thorold. A charge of murder is serious, you see." - -"Pooh! pooh! I don't want him arrested for murder, but on the charge -of breaking open my desk." - -"I could do that certainly. Well, you go and see him, Mr. Thorold, -while I interview Mrs. Warrender. I'll call along at the cottage -later. You needn't let Brown out of your sight until I come." - -"You'll arrest him?" - -"If you wish it; I'll take the risk." - -"Very good, I'm off!" and with an abrupt nod Alan ran down the lane. -Blair looked after him with a queer smile on his dry face. He had his -own ideas regarding the termination of Alan's attempt to make Brown -the mysterious speak out. - -Mrs. Warrender was at home when the inspector called. At first she -felt she could not see him, for the idea of coming into contact with -the police was abhorrent to her. She wondered if Blair could have -discovered the relationship which existed between herself and Cicero, -and it was her anxiety to ascertain this which made her grant the -inspector an interview. If her brother were playing her false, the -more she knew about his plans the better would she be able to -frustrate them. Mrs. Warrender was a capable woman, and had a genius -for intrigue. She was quite decided that she could hold her own even -against the trained intelligence of a police officer. - -And so it came about that the gentleman in question was shown into the -drawing-room, a meretricious, gaudy apartment, which betrayed in -furniture and decoration the tawdry taste of the doctor's widow. - -She came forward to receive him in an elaborate tea-gown of pink silk -trimmed with lace, and, in spite of the early hour, she wore a -quantity of jewels. Blair had an eye for beauty, and could not deny -that this lady was a fine woman, though, perhaps, too much of the -ponderous type. He wondered why she did not wear mourning. She could -have cared but little for her husband, he thought, to appear in gay -colors so soon after his untimely end. But, in truth, Mrs. Warrender -had never professed to be an affectionate wife. She had married for a -home, and made no secret of it. - -"Good-morning," she said, with a sharp glance at Blair's impassive -face. "I understand that you belong to the police, and that you wish -to see me--why, I cannot conceive." - -"If you will permit me to explain myself, I will soon give you my -reasons," said the inspector, in his best manner. "May I sit down? -Thank you. Now we can talk at our ease." - -"I suppose it is about the sad end of my poor husband," she said, in -tones of grief, which her gay attire somewhat belied. "Have you found -out the truth?" - -"No; but I hope to do so--with your assistance." - -She looked up suddenly. - -"If you think I killed the poor lamb, you are mistaken," she said. "I -can account for all my actions on that night, policeman." - -This last was hurled at Blair with the object of keeping him well in -mind of her condescension in receiving him. - -"I never had the slightest suspicion of you," he protested. "My errand -has to do with quite a different matter. And might I suggest," he -added, a trifle testily, "that I am usually addressed as Inspector -Blair?" - -"Oh, of course, if you insist upon it!" she cried, with a shrug. -"Inspector Blair--will that do?" - -"That will do very well, thank you." He paused, and stared hard at the -expensive tea-gown and the aggressive jewelry until the widow became -restive. "Are you rich?" he asked abruptly. - -"What has that got to do with you?" cried Mrs. Warrender furiously. -"Remember you are talking to a lady!" - -"To a rich lady or to a poor one?" - -"Upon my soul, this is too much? Mind your business, Inspector Blair!" - -"This is my business," he retorted, keeping himself well in hand. "I -merely asked you the question, because, if you are not rich, then I -come to make you so." - -"What do you mean?" - -"Answer my question first: Are you rich?" And he took another good -look at the dress and the jewels. - -"No," she said sullenly, "I am not. My husband left me fairly well -off, but not with so much money as I expected." - -"Then you would not object to making some more?" - -Her eyes lighted up with the fire of greed. - -"I should! I should! I am dying to leave this dull village and take up -a position in London; but I cannot do it without money." She paused, -then clapped her hands. "I see," she cried; "Sophy Marlow is going to -compensate me for the death of my husband. It would be easy enough -with all the millions she has!" - -"I am sure it would," assented Blair coolly; "but I don't mean to -supply you with money for nothing." - -"You! What have you to do with the matter?" - -"A good deal. Mr. Thorold and Miss Marlow will rely on my advice." - -"Oh, Miss Marlow!" jeered Mrs. Warrender, sitting up. "That is her -name, is it, Inspector Blair? Are you sure it isn't Marie Lestrange?" - -He leaned forward and caught her wrist in a grip of steel. - -"So you know the truth, then?" he said. "Give me the confession." - -"What confession? What do you mean?" she cried, trying to release her -hand. - -"The confession left by your husband, in which he tells the story of -Achille Lestrange's murder." - -"I--I--I don't know----" - -"Yes, you do; yes, you do--no lies!" He shook her wrist. "You know -that Marlow never murdered Captain Lestrange." - -"Let go my wrist!" cried Mrs. Warrender, and succeeded in wrenching -herself free. "What do you mean by behaving like this? I know nothing -about the matter--there!" - -Blair jumped up and made for the door. - -"Very good. Then you lose the money. I have got for you." - -"Come back! come back!" She followed him to the door and laid her hand -on his shoulder. "Don't be in a hurry. Is there--is there money in -it?" - -"If you have the confession, yes." - -"How much?" - -"We will talk of that when I know the truth. Have you a confession?" - -"Yes, I have." She thought she might with safety admit as much. "I -found the whole story of Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange and Mr. Beauchamp -amongst my business papers--my husband's papers, I should say. It was -signed and witnessed in New Orleans. It seems Warrender was dying -there, and wanted to tell Mr. Beauchamp--Marlow, I mean--the truth, so -he had the confession drawn up by a lawyer. Afterwards, when he got -well, he did not destroy it." - -"Beauchamp was innocent of the murder, then?" - -"Yes. He knocked Achille Lestrange down, but he did not kill him." - -"Aha! I thought so!" chuckled Blair, rubbing his hands. "Who did?" - -Mrs. Warrender drew back with a look of cunning on her face. - -"That's tellings," said she, relapsing into the speech of her people. -"I don't part with my secret unless I get my price." - -"Name your price." - -"Two thousand pounds." - -"What!" cried the inspector. "Two thousand pounds for clearing the -memory of a dead man! My dear lady, five hundred is nearer the mark." - -"Two thousand," she repeated. "If Sophy Marlow has the millions left -by her supposed father, she can well afford that." - -"Humph! We'll see. I must speak to Mr. Thorold first. You have the -confession?" - -"I have--safely put away. It was my intention to have seen Sophy -Marlow about it, but I thought I'd wait." - -"To see what price you could get?" put in Blair. - -"Quite so. I'm a woman of business. If I don't get my price, I burn -that confession." - -"You dare not! I can have you arrested, remember." - -She snapped her fingers. - -"Pooh!" she said. "I don't care for your threats. This is my one -chance of making money, and I'm going to take it. Two thousand pounds -or nothing." - -"I'll think it over," said Blair. "I am to have the refusal of that -confession, mind." - -"What! Do you want to make money too?" - -"Certainly," said Blair, with irony; "I am a man of business." - -She laughed, and took leave of him in a very amiable frame of mind. -When he had gone, she smirked in front of a mirror and took a long -look at herself. - -"Two thousand pounds," she cried, "and my own savings! I'm not so old, -after all. I'll run away from Cicero and marry again. Ha! ha! I've -made a deal this time!" And she went in to luncheon with a most -excellent appetite. - -While this interview was taking place, Alan had been at Mrs. Harry's -cottage. Having received no orders to the contrary, she ushered him -into the sitting-room. There sat the Quiet Gentleman in his gray suit. -At sight of Alan he started violently. - -"Good-day, Mr. Brown," said his visitor, looking closely at him. "I -have come to see you about that key you stole. You are dumb, I -believe, but not deaf, so no doubt you follow my meaning." - -The Quiet Gentleman made a step forward, and, to the amazement of his -visitor, he spoke. - -"Alan," he said--"Alan Thorold!" - -The young man dropped into a chair, white and shaking. He knew that -voice--he knew what was coming. - -With a laugh the Quiet Gentleman pulled off his wig and beard. - -"Don't you know me, Alan?" he asked. - -"Richard Marlow!" gasped Alan. - -"Herbert Beauchamp," was the quiet reply. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. -THE STORY OF THE PAST - - -"Come, Alan," said Beauchamp after a pause, "you need not be -tongue-tied with astonishment. I sent Blair on to tell you all that -had happened, so you must have known that I was alive." - -"Yes, yes--but your disguise," stammered the young man. "I expected to -see Brown. You are not Brown, never could have been; for when he was -here, I have seen you and him at the same time." - -"That's all right, my boy. I was not Brown, as you say, and who Brown -was I know no more than you do. But I am Brown now," with emphasis, -"and Brown I shall remain until I can show myself with safety as -Richard Marlow. Not that I intended to stick to that name. No; if -Blair is right, and that scoundrel Warrender has left papers to prove -my innocence, I shall take my own name. But this disguise! It is a -plot between me and Blair. It was necessary that I should be on the -spot, so we thought this was as good a mask as any. Oh, depend upon -it, Alan, I am perfectly safe here from Jean Lestrange!" - -As he spoke, Beauchamp was putting on his wig and beard. And when this -was done to his satisfaction, he seated himself on a chair opposite to -Alan, looking the very image of the Quiet Gentleman. Thorold did not -wonder that Mrs. Marry had been deceived--the completeness of the -disguise would have deceived a cleverer woman. - -"Still," said he doubtfully, "if the real Brown should reappear----" - -"We will have him arrested for the murder of Warrender," said -Beauchamp quietly. "Yes, I am convinced he is guilty, else why did he -steal the key of the vault? Blair told me about that. He must surely -be some tool of Jean Lestrange's. No, not the man himself--I am aware -of that. Blair saw the passenger-list." - -"Are you certain that the Quiet Gentleman killed Warrender?" - -"No, because I did not see the blow struck. I was insensible at the -time--but it is a long story, and to make things perfectly clear, I -must begin at the beginning. One moment, Alan." Beauchamp crossed to -the door and turned the key. "I don't want Mrs. Marry to come in." - -"She will hear your voice, and believing you to be dumb----" - -"I'll speak low. Come nearer to this chair. First tell me how Sophy -is." - -"Very well, but much cast down. She thinks you are dead, and that your -body has been stolen. Oh, Beauchamp!" cried Alan passionately, "why -did you not trust Sophy and me? You would have spared us both many an -unhappy hour." - -"I wish now that I had told you, but I acted for the best. I had -little time for thought. I expected daily that Lestrange would appear. -If I had only considered the matter rather more--but there, it's done -and we must make the best of it. Sophy's tears will be turned to -smiles shortly--if, indeed, she still loves me, knowing that I am not -her father," and the old man sighed. - -"You need have no fear on that score," said Alan, with a faint smile. -He was getting over the first shock of surprise. "Sophy would have -nothing to do with Jean Lestrange, although she half believed his -story. She always insists that you are her true father. She will -welcome you back with the greatest joy." - -"She must welcome me secretly." - -"Secretly--why? Should your innocence be established, you would surely -reappear as Richard Marlow?" - -"What! And have the whole story in the papers? No, Alan, I shall spend -the rest of my life under my true name of Beauchamp, and live on the -two thousand a year I left myself in my will. You and Sophy can marry -and take the rest of the money. I shall travel, and take Joe with me." - -"Well, perhaps it is the best thing to do," said Thorold. "But tell -me, how was it that the manager of the Occidental Bank reported you -dead?" - -"Joe wrote to him by my order to say so. When Joe came to me at -Brighton and told me how the death of Warrender had complicated -matters, I was afraid lest I should be traced, and perhaps accused of -a second murder. So I thought it best to put it about that I was dead, -and end all pursuit." - -"If you had only trusted me, sir, all this trouble would have been -avoided. I merited your confidence, I think." - -"I know--I know. Indeed, on that day when I spoke to you of the -probability that my body would not be allowed to rest in its grave, I -had half a mind to tell you. But somehow the moment passed. Even then -I had designed my plot of feigning death. It was the only way I saw of -escaping Lestrange." - -"Tell me the story from the beginning," said Alan. "I know only -scraps." - -"The beginning was in Jamaica, Alan," said Beauchamp sadly. "All this -trouble arose out of the love I had for Sophy's mother. Poor Zelia! if -only she had married me, I would have made her a good husband. As it -was, she chose Achille Lestrange, a roué and a gambler, a spendthrift -and a scoundrel. I could never tell Sophy what a bad man her father -was. He treated poor Zelia abominably." - -"But was that altogether his fault, Beauchamp? Joe hinted that Jean -Lestrange caused much of the trouble." - -"So he did, the scoundrel! Jean was, if anything, worse than his -cousin, though there was not much to choose between them. But Jean was -madly in love with Zelia--worshiped her with all the fierce passion of -a Creole. When he lost her he vowed he would be revenged--he sowed -dissension between them on my account." - -"He hinted that you were in love with her, I suppose?" - -"Yes, and he was right!" cried Beauchamp with emphasis. "I was in love -with Zelia, and pitied her from the bottom of my heart. Well, a year -after Sophy was born things came to a crisis. I was at Kingston, and -my yacht in the harbor there. I saw a good deal of Zelia, and one -night she came on board with her child, and asked me to take her away. -Lestrange had struck her, the beast! and she had refused to live with -him any longer. At first I hesitated, but she was in such a state of -agony that I consented to take her away from her wretched life. I had -to go first to Falmouth to fetch some things which I did not wish to -leave--I had sold my plantation some time before, having made up my -mind to leave Jamaica. So we sailed, reached Falmouth in safety, and I -went to my estate, leaving Joe Brill on board." - -"Ah! that was why Joe could not say who killed Achille?" - -"Precisely. Joe knew little of the events of that night; but he -believed in me, and stood by me like the noble, faithful fellow he is. -But to continue: Zelia arrived at my house only to die; worry and -melancholy had brought her to a low state of health, and she caught a -fever. On the very night Jean and her husband came in pursuit she -died. I had made all arrangements to sail; I had sold my estate, and -had sent the proceeds to England. It had been my intention to have -married Zelia when Achille had divorced her, to adopt little Marie, -and to start life afresh in a new land. Her death put an end to these -plans." - -"But the murder, Beauchamp?" - -"I am coming to that. Warrender was attending Zelia when she died, and -he was in the house when Achille and Jean arrived. I was quite -determined he should not get the child; for Zelia had left some money, -and I knew well that Achille would soon squander it. Well, Lestrange -demanded his wife. I told him she was dead; he declined to believe me, -and we quarreled. I am naturally of a fiery temper," continued -Beauchamp with some agitation, "and I knocked him down on the veranda. -The blow stunned him, and he lay there like a dog." - -"Was Jean present?" - -"Yes. He saw me knock Achille down; then he went away to see the body -of Zelia. I had to look for the child, intending to take her to my -yacht until such time as I could obtain the guardianship. When I came -out again I found Warrender kneeling down beside the body of Achille. -He was dead!" - -"Not from the effects of your blow?" cried Alan incredulously. - -"No. He had been stabbed to the heart while senseless." - -"By whom--Warrender?" - -"I don't know. Warrender always swore that his hands were clean of -blood, and certainly he had no reason to murder Achille. I suspected -Jean, but Warrender told me that Jean had been in Zelia's room praying -beside the body. He advised me to fly." - -"Yes, yes; but who killed Achille?" - -"Well, I supposed it must have been a negro whom Achille had brought -with him--a Zambo, called Scipio, who was devoted to his mistress and -who hated his master. On hearing that Zelia was dead--knowing, as he -did, that her husband's brutality had probably had a good deal to do -with it--he might have stabbed Achille as he lay senseless on the -veranda. At any rate, Warrender said that he found him dead when he -came out. To this day I don't know who killed him. It must have been -either Warrender, Scipio, or Jean. I am inclined to suspect Scipio. -However, at the time there was nothing for it but flight if I wanted -to escape an accusation of murder. You see bow strong the evidence was -against me, Alan. I had taken away Achille's wife and child; he had -come in pursuit; I had quarreled with him and knocked him down; he had -been found dead. Therefore I fled with the child. Can you blame me?" - -"No," said Alan decisively. "Under the circumstances, I don't see what -else you could do. So you escaped?" - -"I did. I went on board my yacht and told Joe all. Of course, he -believed in my innocence, and strongly advised me to leave at once. We -sailed down the coast of South America, round the Horn, and home to -England. I called myself Richard Marlow, and I sold the yacht under -another name at a French seaport. I had plenty of money, and there was -no one who suspected my past." - -"I suppose the news of the murder had not reached England?" - -"No. I believe there was a casual reference in one of the papers, but -that was all. The yacht was supposed to have foundered. I felt secure -from pursuit, and determined to start a new life. I gave out that -Marie was my daughter, and I called her Sophy. Then I placed her in -the convent at Hampstead, with a sum of money for her education, and -besides that, I secured a certain sum on her for life in case of my -death. When this was settled I went to Africa. There Fortune, tired of -persecuting me, gave me smiles instead of frowns. I made a fortune in -the gold-mines, and became celebrated as Richard Marlow the -millionaire. The rest of my story you know." - -"Up to a point," said Alan significantly. "I know how you bought this -place and settled here with Sophy. But the letter from Barkham----" - -"Ah! Joe told you about that, did he?" said Beauchamp composedly. -"Yes, the letter was from an old friend of mine called Barkham. He -told me that Jean Lestrange had recognized my portrait in an -illustrated paper, and that he intended to come to England to hunt me -down. The letter was sent to the office of the paper, and by them -forwarded here. You may guess my feelings. I thought myself lost. I -showed the letter to Warrender, and he suggested that I should feign -death. I jumped at the idea, made a will, allowing myself an income -under my true name of Herbert Beauchamp, got another key of the vault -fashioned from the one which afterwards was taken to Phelps, and took -Joe into my confidence. Then Warrender drugged me." - -"What did he give you?" asked Alan. "You looked really dead." - -"I can't tell you the name of the drug. He said it was some vegetable -preparation used by the negroes. Then I died--apparently--and I was -buried. They had bored holes in the coffin, and that night, when you -were all absent, Joe and Warrender took me out of the vault and -carried me to the hut on the heath, where Warrender revived me. It was -while he was doing this that he heard a noise, and ran out. He never -came back, and when I was myself again we went out to find his body. -He was quite dead, stabbed to the heart, and lying some distance from -the hut. Who killed him I do not know." - -"But how did his body get into the vault?" - -"Joe did it. After he had got me away, he dragged the body into the -hut, and next night came back and took it to the vault. He put it into -the coffin, never dreaming that any one would look for it there. Nor -would they, and all would have been well had it not been for that man -Cicero Gramp. He saw too much, and----" - -He was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. -THE BEGINNING OF THE END - - -Alan started to his feet at that imperative summons. Had Beauchamp -been overheard by Mrs. Marry? Had his disguise been penetrated? Had -she brought some one to witness the discovery? These thoughts rushed -through his mind with lightning speed, and for the moment he lost his -presence of mind. Not so the man who was truly in danger. Adopting the -peculiar shuffle of the Quiet Gentleman, he crossed the room and -opened the door. As the key turned in the lock Alan fully expected to -see Lestrange, menacing and sinister, on the threshold. But the -newcomer proved to be Blair. - -"How are you getting on, Mr. Thorold?" he said, stepping through the -door, which Beauchamp locked behind him. "You know now who the Quiet -Gentleman is. Don't look so scared, sir." - -"Can't help it," muttered the young man. - -"This business has been rather too much for me. I thought when you -knocked, that Lestrange had run his prey to earth." - -"He won't get much out of his prey if he does," said Blair, with a nod -to Beauchamp. "I have seen Mrs. Warrender." - -The old man turned as white as the beard he wore. - -"And--and--what does she say?" he stammered. - -"Say!" Blair seated himself and chuckled. "She says two thousand -pounds will pay her for that confession." - -"Then it does exist! Warrender knew the truth!" - -"Of course. Didn't I tell you the man was a blackmailing scoundrel? -Faith! and his wife is not much better. Two thousand pounds for a bit -of paper!" - -"And for my freedom!" said Beauchamp excitedly. "Oh to think of being -free from the horror which has hung over me all these years! And -Warrender knew the truth! What a scoundrel! He always swore that he -knew nothing, and I paid him money to hold his tongue about my -supposed guilt. Ungrateful wretch! He and his wife arrived in England -almost penniless. I met him in London, and, as he knew my story, I -brought him down here. I helped him in every way. How was it he left a -confession behind him?" - -"It is an old confession," replied Blair. "It seems that Warrender -fell ill of fever in New Orleans. His conscience smote him for his -villainy, and he made a full confession, signed it, and had it -witnessed. When he recovered he did not destroy it, but kept it safely -with the rest of his papers. There Mrs. Warrender found it, and she is -now prepared to sell it for two thousand pounds. A nice sum, upon my -word!" grumbled Blair. - -"She shall have it," said Beauchamp eagerly. "I would pay five -thousand for that confession--I would indeed!" - -"I dare say. But Mrs. Warrender will give it to you for the lesser -sum, sir." - -"Does she know that I am here? Did you tell her?" - -"Not such a fool, Mr. Beauchamp. She'd have asked five thousand if she -had known that. The woman has the blackmailing instinct." - -"Like her brother," put in Alan. Then, observing the looks of surprise -directed at him by the other two, he added: "Didn't you know? Cicero -Gramp is Mrs. Warrender's brother. I found that out in London." - -"A nice pair of jail-birds!" cried Blair. "I'd best get that -confession at once, or she'll be giving it to Cicero, and they'll -demand more money. Mr. Beauchamp, can you give me a check?" - -"No," he said, shaking his head. "You forget, Blair, I am dead and -buried, and, what's more, I do not intend ever to come to life again -as Marlow. But Mr. Thorold, as Sophy's trustee, can give you the -money." - -"If Blair will come to the Abbey Farm, I will do so," said Alan, -rising. "I agree that the sooner the confession is obtained the -better, or Cicero may give trouble. By the way, who was it killed -Achille, Blair? Was it the doctor himself?" - -"No, no!" cried Beauchamp. "It was Scipio, the negro." - -"I can't tell you that;" and the inspector shook his head. "Mrs. -Warrender declares that you are innocent, Mr. Beauchamp; but she -declines to give any further information until she has received her -pound of flesh." - -"She shall have it this very day," said Alan, putting on his cap. -"Come, Blair. Mr. Beauchamp, will you remain here?" - -"Yes. I am safer as the Quiet Gentleman than as anything else." - -"You don't want me to bring Sophy here?" - -"Not until we get that confession, Alan. Sophy might make a scene when -she met me. Mrs. Marry would learn the truth, and the news would -spread. If Lestrange knew, all would be lost. Get the confession, -Alan." - -"Yes, I think that is the best plan. Good-day, Mr. Brown," said the -inspector, speaking for the benefit of Mrs. Marry, and with Alan he -left the house. - -Alone again, Beauchamp fell on his knees and thanked God that his -innocence was about to be vindicated. For years he had lived in dread -of discovery; now he was about to be relieved of the nightmare. - -Talking as they went of the strange and unexpected turn the Case, as -Blair called it, had taken, the two men walked through Heathton and -out on to the country road. On turning down a quiet lane which led to -the Abbey Farm, they saw a ponderous man behaving in a most -extraordinary manner. He danced in the white dust, he shook his fist -at the sky, and he spun round like a distracted elephant. Blair's keen -eye recognized him at once. - -"Very pretty, Mr. Cicero Gramp," he observed dryly. "Are you in -training for a ballet-dancer?" - -The man stopped short, and turned a disturbed face on them. - -"I'll be even with him!" he gasped, wiping his streaming forehead. -"Oh, the wretch! oh, the Judas! Gentlemen, proceed, and leave an -unhappy man to fight down a whirl of conflicting emotions. _E pluribus -unum!_" quoted Cicero, in a pathetic voice; "that is me--Ai! Ai! I -utter the wail of Orestes." - -"And, like Orestes, you seem to be mad," observed Alan, as the fat man -returned to his dancing. - -"And no wonder, Mr. Thorold. I have lost thousands. Lestrange----" - -Cicero could say no more. He was choked with emotion, and gave vent to -his feelings by shaking his fist at the sky. - -"Ah," said Blair, who had been taking in the situation, "Lestrange! -You have found a cleverer villain than yourself." - -"He has gone away!" roared Cicero, with the voice of an angry bull. -"Yes, you may look. He went this morning, bag and baggage. I don't -know where he is, save that he roams the wilderness of London. And my -money--he paid his bill to mine hostess of the hostel with my money!" - -"The deuce he did!" said Alan. "And how did you come to lend him -money?" - -"I do not mind explaining," said Mr. Gramp, with a defiant glance at -the gentleman who represented the police. "I went into partnership -with Lestrange. He had no money; I lent him a goodly part of your -fifty pounds, Mr. Thorold, on an undertaking that I should get half of -what he received from Miss Marlow." - -"A very creditable bargain," remarked Alan grimly; "but you invested -your cash in a bad cause, Mr. Gramp. I saw Lestrange last night, and -assured him that he would not get one penny of the blackmail he -proposed to extort. I dare say, after my visit, he found the game was -up, and thought it advisable to clear out. I should recommend you to -do the same." - -"So should I," put in Blair significantly, "or I'll have you arrested -as a vagabond without proper means of support." - -"I am a professor of eloquence and elocution!" cried Cicero, his fat -cheeks turning pale at this stern hint. "You dare not arrest me; and -you, Mr. Thorold, will be sorry if you do not employ me." - -"Employ you? In which way?" - -"To hunt Lestrange down." - -Alan shrugged his shoulders. - -"I do not wish to see the man again." - -"But I know something about him. Promise to pay me some money, and -I'll show you a letter written to Captain Lestrange, which came to the -inn after he left. I took it and opened it to find out his plans." - -"Well, you are a scoundrel!" said Alan, looking Mr. Gramp's portly -figure up and down. "By opening another person's letter you have -placed yourself within reach of the law." - -"I don't care!" cried Cicero recklessly. "I am desperate. Will you pay -me for a sight of that letter?" - -"Yes," said the inspector before Alan could reply, "if it is worth -paying for. On the other hand, you could be arrested for opening it. -Come, the letter!" - -Cicero produced the document in question, and kept firm hold of it -while he made his bargain. - -"How much, Mr. Thorold?" - -"If it proves to be of use," replied the young Squire leisurely, "I'll -pay you well. Leave the amount to me." - -The tramp still hesitated, but Inspector Blair, becoming impatient, -snatched it out of his hand and proceeded to read it aloud. It was a -short note to the effect that if the writer did not receive a certain -sum of money "at once" (underlined), he would come down to Heathton -and "tell all" (also underlined) to Miss Marlow. These few lines were -signed, "O. Barkham." - -"Barkham!" exclaimed Alan. "That must be the man who warned Beauchamp -that Lestrange was coming. I wonder what he knows." - -"Humph!" grunted Blair, putting the letter into his pocket, "very -likely he will be able to tell us sufficient to enable us to dispense -with Mrs. Warrender's confession. I am not particularly anxious to pay -her two thousand pounds for nothing." - -"Two thousand pounds!" wailed Cicero, with his eyes staring out of his -head. "Oh, Clara Maria! Has she got that out of you! My own sister--my -very own!" wept the old scamp, "and she won't go shares! Yet I offered -to work with her!" he finished. - -"I don't think you'll get a sixpence out of her," said Alan; "a desire -to grab money evidently runs in your family. However, if this letter -turns out to be of any assistance in clearing up these mysteries, I'll -see what I can do." - -Mr. Gramp, seeing no other alternative, accepted this offer. - -"When am I to get it?" he asked sulkily. - -"When I choose," Alan replied tartly. "Go back to the Good Samaritan, -and don't let me catch you annoying your sister, or I'll make it hot -for you!" and he moved away, followed by Blair. - -Cicero shook his fist at them, and spent the rest of the day making -futile guesses as to how much they would give him. - -"What's to do now, Blair?" asked Thorold abruptly. - -"I shall pay Mrs. Warrender and get the confession. You can take it to -Mr. Beauchamp and set his mind at rest." - -"And you--what will you do?" - -"Catch the 6.30 train to London. I shall go straight to the address -given in this letter"--Blair tapped his breast-pocket--"and see -Barkham, and," he added, "I shall see Lestrange." - -"Will he be with Barkham?" - -"I think so. He--Lestrange, I mean--went away before he got this -letter. It is likely enough that he has gone to London to see his -accomplice." - -"If Barkham were an accomplice, he would not have written, warning -Beauchamp of Lestrange's departure from Jamaica." - -"It is on that point I wish to be clear," retorted Blair. "It seems to -me that Barkham is running with the hare and hunting with the hounds." - -"Well, I hope you'll find out sufficient to solve the mystery," said -Alan, bringing the conversation to a close; "but I confess I am -doubtful." - -The check duly written and safely deposited in the inspector's pocket, -the two men set out on their visit to Mrs. Warrender, who was -graciously pleased to accept the money, in exchange for which she -handed over the confession. Alan and Blair read it on the spot, -and were greatly astonished at the contents. Then the inspector -hurried away to catch the London train, and Alan set out for Mrs. -Marry's cottage, taking with him the precious document. Mrs. -Warrender--fearful lest the check should be stopped--left for London -by a later train. She had decided that she would cash it herself the -moment the bank opened the following morning. Her business capacities -were indeed undeniable. - -Alan returned home, tired out with the day's work, and was glad enough -to sit down to the excellent meal provided by Mrs. Hester. But his -troubles and excitements were not yet over. Hardly had he finished his -dinner when a note from Sophy was brought in. - -"Come at once," she wrote; "Lestrange is here." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII.. -ONE PART OF THE TRUTH - - -After his interview with Alan, Captain Lestrange had come to the -conclusion that it would be the best and wisest course to retreat -before the enemy. Alan knew much, Brill knew more, and the two -together might prove too much for him. Moreover, since his design of -passing as Sophy's father had been rendered useless, it was not -necessary that he should remain in Heathton. Therefore, he paid his -account at the inn with money borrowed from Cicero, and departed in -hot haste before that gentleman was afoot. It was not until he got to -the Junction that he began to wonder if he was acting judiciously. It -struck him that he should have made at least one attempt to get money -out of Sophy. - -For some time he pondered over this question, and finally decided to -leave his baggage in the Junction cloak-room and steal back to -Heathton under cover of darkness. True, his accomplice Barkham was -waiting for him in London, but he would not get much of a welcome from -that gentleman unless he brought money with him. Moreover, after Joe's -intimation that it was Barkham who had warned Beauchamp of the plot to -hunt him down, Lestrange had had no confidence in him. But that -Barkham knew enough to be very dangerous, he would have left him out -of his calculations altogether. He decided at last that he must get -money out of Sophy, bribe Barkham to return to Jamaica, and then deal -alone and unaided with the lucrative business of extracting further -blackmail. Having made up his mind to this course of action, he -loitered about at the Junction until he could with safety return to -Heathton. - -It was during this tune that he had a surprise. While lurking in the -waiting-room, he saw Blair arrive by a local train and catch the -London express. What could he be doing? Was he hunting him down? The -very idea terrified him, and he began to congratulate himself on -having remained at the Junction. Had he known that Blair was now on -his way to see Barkham, he would have had still greater cause for -alarm. Matters were indeed coming to a crisis, but Lestrange did not -guess that the crisis was so near at hand. - -When he had seen the lights of the London express disappear, he took -his seat in a local train, which was timed to leave shortly after -eight o'clock. On arriving at Heathton, he left the station hurriedly, -and stole through deserted by-ways to the Moat House. Here he asked -for Miss Marlow, and sent in his card, on which he had scribbled, -"News of your father." The lie, which was not all a lie, gained him -the interview he sought; but before seeing him, Sophy sent off the -note to Alan. Then she induced Miss Vicky to retire, and received her -visitor alone in the drawing-room. - -The Captain entered the room with a somewhat cringing air. His nerve -was gone, and with it a goodly portion of his courage. Miss Marlow, on -the contrary, was quite mistress of herself and of the situation. She -had heard from Joe Brill, amongst other things, that this man was not -her father, and she now felt no fear of him. He was anxious and ill at -ease, like a culprit before a judge. - -"Good evening, Captain Lestrange," said Sophy, sitting very erect in -her chair. "You wish to see me, I believe. Why have you come?" - -"To make reparation, Miss Marlow." - -"Oh," she said ironically, "then I am not your daughter?" - -"I expect you have heard as much from Joe Brill," replied Lestrange, -looking at her gloomily. "No, you are not my daughter, but you are my -cousin, Marie Lestrange, although you choose to keep your name of -Sophia Marlow." - -"I keep the name of the man who has been a father to me." - -"In that case, you should call yourself Beauchamp," he retorted. "May -I sit down? Thank you. Well, I suppose you are wondering why I have -come to see you?" - -She glanced at the card. - -"To give me news of my father, I presume," she said. "Do you mean my -real father?" - -"No, I mean the false one. Your real father died long ago. He was -murdered by Beauchamp." - -"He was not!" cried Sophy vehemently, and started from her seat. "I -have heard the story from Joe, and I know now why you came here. But -nothing will induce me to believe that he killed my father. My mother -fled to him from the cruelty of her husband, and you were at the -bottom of all the trouble." - -"Yes," he cried fiercely, "I was! I loved your mother dearly. She gave -me up for Achille, and I swore I would be revenged. I sowed dissension -between them. It was through me that Zelia fled with Beauchamp. Do you -think I am sorry for what happened? I am not. I hated Achille; but he -is dead. I hate Beauchamp, for your mother loved him----" - -"And he also is dead," interrupted Sophy; "you cannot harm him." - -"Are you so sure he is dead?" sneered Lestrange. - -"I saw his dead body!" cried the girl, with emotion. - -"You saw him in a state of insensibility, brought about by Warrender's -devilish drugs!" said the Captain sharply. "I don't believe Beauchamp -is dead. If he had been, why should his body have been carried off?" - -"You declared that Mr. Thorold did that, and----" - -"I do not say so now. Thorold had nothing to do with it; but I am -quite sure that Warrender had. In order to escape me, Beauchamp -allowed himself to be drugged by Warrender, and that was why Warrender -assisted at the removal of the supposed dead body. I feel certain that -Beauchamp is alive." - -"Alive! Oh! I hope so, I hope so! My dear father!" cried Sophy. "Only -prove that he is alive, Captain Lestrange, and I will forgive you -all!" - -"You forget that I am his enemy," was the fierce reply. "Were I able -to prove that he is alive, I should at once have him arrested for the -murder of your father--my cousin." - -"It is not true! it is not true!" - -"It is, and you know it. Beauchamp must have had some very good and -strong reason for allowing himself to be buried alive so as to escape -me. But for your sake and for my own I will leave Beauchamp, should he -be indeed alive, to the punishment of his conscience." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean that I want money. You are rich, and you can pay me. Give me a -thousand pounds, and I will go away and never trouble you again." - -"I refuse!" She walked up and down the room in a state of great -agitation. "If you were certain that Mr. Beauchamp was alive--if you -were certain he had committed that crime, you would not let him escape -so easily." - -"I would! I would! I am tired of the whole business." - -"No, no," insisted the girl; "I don't believe you. If I gave you -money, I should only be supplying you with the means to cause further -trouble. If my dear father--for I shall still call him so--is alive, I -will leave the matter in his hands." - -"And hang him." - -"And save him," retorted the girl firmly. "You can go, Captain -Lestrange. I shall not give you one penny!" - -Lestrange made a bound and caught her wrist. - -"Take care!" he cried, shaking with rage; "I am desperate--I will -stick at nothing. If you do not give the money I want, I shall go to -the police!" - -"Go! go! I defy you!" - -"Little devil!" muttered Lestrange, and he gave her arm a sharp twist. - -She screamed for help, and as though in answer to her summons, Alan -appeared at the door. With an exclamation of rage he sprang forward, -seized Lestrange, and flung him on the floor. - -"You hound!" he cried, panting. "You dog!" - -"Alan! Alan! Thank Heaven you are here! Let me sit down, Alan; I--I -feel faint." - -While Alan was assisting the girl to a chair, Lestrange rose slowly -from the ground. The sudden and opportune arrival of the young Squire -disconcerted him greatly, and he began to think it was time to retire. -If Sophy refused him money when alone, she would most certainly not -yield to his demand now that her lover was beside her. So with deadly -hatred in his heart, he stole towards the door, which was still open. -On the threshold he recoiled with a shrill cry of fear. Before him -stood Herbert Beauchamp, alias Richard Marlow. - -"You--you here, after all?" - -Beauchamp, shutting and locking the door after him, strode into the -room. - -"Yes, I live to punish you, Jean Lestrange. Hold him, Alan, while I -speak to Sophy." - -The girl, with a pale face and staring eyes, was looking at the man -who had come back from the grave. He approached and took her hands. - -"My poor child!" he said in caressing tones, "do not look so alarmed! -I am flesh and blood." - -"You are alive, father?" gasped Sophy, amazed and somewhat terrified. - -"Yes." He kissed her. "I feigned death to escape from this man. Come, -Sophy, have you no welcome for me? It is true that I am not your -father; but--after all----" - -"You are as dear to me as ever!" she cried, putting her arms round his -neck. "You are my true father--my real father! I shall never think of -you as anything else. Oh, thank God--thank God!" And she wept and -kissed him by turns. - -"Amen!" said Beauchamp in a solemn tone. "But we have much to do -before things are put straight. There is the cause of all my trouble, -and I must deal with him." He rose and crossed to where Lestrange, -white and shaking, was in the grip of Thorold. "What have you to say -for yourself, Lestrange?" - -The man made a violent effort to recover his self-control, and -partially succeeded. - -"I have to say to you what I shall shortly say to the world: You are a -murderer!" - -"That is a lie!" - -"It is no lie. You murdered that girl's father?" - -"That is a lie!" repeated Beauchamp sternly. "Do you think I am a -Judas, to kiss that innocent girl if I knew myself to be her father's -murderer? I knocked your cousin Achille senseless, and well he -deserved it; but it was not I who stabbed him to the heart. It was -you, Jean Lestrange!" - -"I--I----" gasped the wretch, his lips white, his limbs shaking under -him. "You dare--to--to--accuse--me--of----" - -"I do not accuse you," said Beauchamp solemnly. "Out of the mouth of -the dead you are condemned. Here is the confession of Warrender, and -in it he tells the truth. You are the murderer of Achille!" - -Sophy uttered a cry of horror, and throwing herself back on the couch, -hid her face from the guilty wretch. He strove to speak, but no words -came, and he continued to look silently on the ground. But for the -support of Thorold he would have fallen. - -"Warrender," continued Mr. Beauchamp, "himself almost as great a -villain as you, knew the truth these twenty years. But he kept silence -in order to terrorize me, to extort money from me. It was he who -proposed that I should escape you by feigning death, knowing, as he -did, that I was innocent. Well, he has been punished!" - -"I did not kill him, at all events!" cried Lestrange savagely. - -"I know you did not; you were not in England at the time. But you -killed Achille. Yes, you left the room where Zelia lay dead, you found -Achille senseless on the veranda, and you stabbed him to the heart. -Warrender saw you commit the crime. It is all set out here, and signed -by Warrender, in the presence of two witnesses. Can you deny it?" - -Lestrange moistened his dry lips, looked at Sophy, at Beauchamp, then -suddenly shook off Alan's hold. - -"No, I don't deny it," he said in a loud, harsh voice. "You have -been one too many for me. I am so poor as to be almost starving, so I -don't care what becomes of me. Hang me if you like. I hate you, -Beauchamp--I have always hated you, the more so when I found how much -Zelia cared for you. And I loved her, though that was not the reason I -killed her husband; for she was dead then, and could never be mine. -But I killed him so that blame might rest on you. And I wanted the -custody of the child, because I should have been able to handle the -money. I found Achille senseless where you had knocked him down. I did -not intend to do it; but I had a knife--and the devil put it into my -head to stab him. Then you fled, and the murder was laid at your -door." - -"And had you not done me harm enough, wretched man, without hunting me -down?" said Beauchamp sternly. - -"I wanted money," he cried recklessly. "I saw your portrait in the -paper, and I arranged with Barkham, who was as hard-up as I, that we -should come to England and get some of your money. He played the -traitor, and wrote you that letter--why, I don't know, as he stood to -make as much as I did. But for that letter I should have found you -alive, and I should have forced you to pay me. As it turned out, you -escaped me." - -"And will you escape me, do you think?" asked Beauchamp with emphasis. - -"I don't know--I don't care. Call in the police and have me arrested -if you like. I have played a bold game, and lost--do your worst!" - -He folded his arms, and stared defiantly at the man whose life he had -ruined. - -Beauchamp looked irresolutely at him, then he turned to Sophy, who, -pale and quiet, was clinging to her lover's arm. - -"The daughter of the man whose life you took shall be your judge," -said the millionaire. "Sophy, is he to go free, or shall the law take -its course?" - -"Let him go--let him go," murmured the girl. "His death shall not be -upon my soul. Let him go and repent." - -"I agree with Sophy," said Alan Thorold. "Let him go." - -"And repent," finished Mr. Beauchamp. "Go, Jean Lestrange, and seek -from an offended God the mercy you denied to me." - -Lestrange pulled himself together, and put on his hat with a would-be -jaunty air. He tried to speak, but the words would not come, and he -slunk out of the room like a beaten hound. - -And that was the last they ever saw of Jean Lestrange. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. -THE OTHER PART OF THE TRUTH - - -Shortly afterwards Mr. Beauchamp returned to his lodgings as the Quiet -Gentleman. Having been informed by Alan, on his way to the Moat House, -that Lestrange was there with Sophy, he had taken off his false wig -and beard to confound him; but now, in spite of the girl's -protestations, he put them on again. - -"No, child, no," he said; "I am as dead as Richard Marlow, and I shall -not come to life again. What purpose would it serve? It would only -cause a scandal, and the papers would be full of the story. I have no -wish to be a nine days' wonder." - -"But, father, what will you do?--where will you live?" - -"Oh," said he, with a smile, "I dare say you will carry out the terms -of the will and let me have that two thousand a year. I shall take my -departure from Mrs. Marry's as the Quiet Gentleman, and appear in -London as Herbert Beauchamp. You can join me there, and we can go on -our travels." - -"But what about me?" cried poor Sophy, who had found her adopted -father only to lose him again. - -"You shall marry Alan." - -"But I want you to be at the wedding, father." - -"I shall be at the wedding, child, and I shall give you away." - -Alan looked at him in surprise. - -"Then you will be recognized, and the whole story will come out." - -"So it would if you were married here," answered Beauchamp composedly. -"But the wedding must take place in London. Can't you see, Alan, that -Sophy must be married to you under her true name--Marie Lestrange?" - -"Oh, must I?" cried the girl in dismay. - -"I think so; otherwise I doubt if the marriage would hold good." - -"You are right," said Alan, after a pause. "We must do as you say. But -I am sorry. I wanted to be married here, and I wanted Phelps to marry -us." - -"There is no reason against that. Bring him to London and tell him the -whole story." - -"But I will never be called Marie!" - -"No, no; you will always be Sophy to us," said her lover, kissing her. -"And we will go abroad with Mr. Beauchamp for our honeymoon." - -"With my father!" cried Sophy, embracing the old man; "my dear and -only father!" - -He sighed as he kissed her good-by. He was devoted to his adopted -daughter, and felt deeply parting with her even to so good a fellow as -Alan Thorold. But he comforted himself with the thought that they -could be much together abroad. And so, taking this cheerful view of -the situation which had been created by the villainy of Lestrange, the -ex-millionaire, as he may now be called, withdrew to his lodgings. It -was there that Alan took leave of him, promising to call the next -morning. A thankful heart was Herbert Beauchamp's that night. The -sorrow of his life was over, the dark clouds had lifted, and now, -under his own name, and with a good income, he could spend the rest of -his days in peace. Lestrange had slunk back into the night whence he -had emerged, leaving one part of the mystery cleared up by his -confession. It still remained to discover who had been the murderer of -the unlucky Warrender. And that came to light the very next day. - -Alan did not wait until Beauchamp had departed for London to acquaint -his revered tutor with all that had taken place. On the afternoon of -the next day he proceeded to the Rectory, and told the whole story to -the amazed and delighted Phelps, Nothing would serve but that he must -go at once to Mrs. Marry's and see with his own eyes the man who had -been buried alive. But Alan restrained the Rector's impetuosity by -pointing out that Mrs. Marry supposed Brown, the Quiet Gentleman, to -be dumb. If by any chance she should hear him speak all secrecy would -be at an end. - -"Ay, ay," assented Mr. Phelps, "true enough, Alan, true enough. Mrs. -Marry is a terrible gossip, and we must keep the matter quiet. I don't -want my churchyard to be made the subject of another scandal. But I -must see Marlow--I mean Beauchamp. God bless me! I shall never -get his name right--may I be forgiven for swearing! Bring him here, -Alan--bring him at once. I must see my old friend after all he has -suffered." - -This Alan agreed to do, and an hour later appeared with Beauchamp and -Sophy. Phelps received his old friend as one returned from the dead, -and insisted upon having several points cleared up which he felt to be -obscure. - -"How about getting away, Marlow?" he asked. "You had no clothes. How -did you manage?" - -"But I had clothes," replied Beauchamp. "We prepared all our plans -very carefully. Joe took a suit of clothes to the hut, and brought -money with him. Then I walked to the nearest town and caught the train -for London. There, at a quiet hotel, a box in the name of Beauchamp -was waiting for me. I slept there, and went on to Brighton, and took -rooms in Lansdowne Place. I was comfortable, you may be sure. Joe came -down to see me, and told me all the trouble which had ensued upon the -death of Warrender." - -"Ah!" said Alan reflectively; "we don't know who murdered him, and we -never shall know. It could not have been Lestrange, and if it were the -Quiet Gentleman, he has escaped us." - -"I wonder who that Quiet Gentleman was," said Sophy. - -"We all wonder that, my dear," put in the Rector; "but I fear we shall -never know." - -"Well, what does it matter?" said Beauchamp, with more asperity than -he usually showed. "Whoever murdered Warrender gave him no more than -he deserved. The man was a blackmailer, although the money he got out -of me was obtained under the guise of friendship. He could have saved -me years of agony had he only spoken the truth--ay, and honesty would -have paid him better than dishonesty." - -"No doubt. But the man is dead; let us not speak evil of the -dead," said Phelps. "But there is one question I wish to ask you, -Marlow--Beauchamp, I mean. How was it that the page-boy swore Joe -Brill was never out of the room on that night?" - -"Joe drugged the lad's supper-ale, and slipped out when he was fast -asleep. He did the same the next night when he had to take Warrender's -body to the vault. That was my idea, for I was terrified lest I should -be traced by the murder, and I wanted to get rid of the evidence of -the crime. That tramp, confound him! spoilt all." - -They were interrupted by the entrance of a servant, with the card of -Inspector Blair. He was admitted at once, leaving a companion whom he -had brought with him in the hall. - -"You must excuse my intrusion, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Phelps; -"but I have already been to the Moat House and to the Abbey Farm in -search of Mr. Thorold." - -"Here I am," said Alan. "What is the matter, Blair? You have some -news." - -"I have, sir. I have been to London, and I have brought back with me a -gentleman whom Mr. Beauchamp may know;" and he summoned the gentleman -in the hall. - -"Barkham!" exclaimed Mr. Beauchamp; "you here!" - -Mr. Barkham was a dapper dark man, not unlike Lestrange, with an -expression which a schoolboy would have called "sneaky." He did not -recognize Mr. Beauchamp until that gentleman stripped off beard and -wig. Then he hastened to acknowledge him. - -"Mr. Beauchamp," he said, in a servile voice, "I hope, as I warned you -of Lestrange's plot, you will hold me blameless." - -"Why? What have you been doing?" - -"I will tell you," interposed Blair. "This gentleman, as you see, -bears a slight resemblance to Captain Jean Lestrange. He and the -Captain were hard up in Jamaica, and seeing your portrait, Mr. -Beauchamp, in the papers, they thought they might have a chance of -extorting money from you. In case Lestrange got into trouble here, he -wished to have an alibi, so he left for England under another name, -and Mr. Barkham here came to Southampton in the _Negress_ as Captain -Lestrange." - -"Yes, yes," said Barkham nervously; "but I warned Mr. Beauchamp that -Lestrange was coming." - -"Quite so; but you did not tell him that Lestrange was masquerading as -a dumb man in Heathton." - -"What!" cried Alan and Sophy in one breath. "Was Lestrange the Quiet -Gentleman?" - -"Yes," replied Blair, with triumph. "He confessed as much to Barkham -here. That was why he wore the gray wig and beard and assumed -dumbness--oh, a most effective disguise; quite a different person he -made of himself! He came down to keep a watch on you, Mr. Beauchamp, -in order to plunder you when he thought fit. Your unexpected death -took him by surprise and upset his plans. Then Barkham, as Jean -Lestrange, arrived at Southampton, and our Quiet Gentleman disappeared -from his rooms here, to reappear from London in his own proper person, -as Captain Jean Lestrange. No wonder that, with so carefully-prepared -an alibi, we did not guess it was he who had been masquerading here." - -"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "and he stole the key of the vault?" - -"Mr. Barkham can explain that, and other things," said Blair -significantly. - -"Wait!" cried Sophy, rising excitedly, "I know--I know! It was -Lestrange who murdered Dr. Warrender!" - -"Yes," admitted Barkham, "he did." - -There was a deep silence, which was broken at length by Beauchamp. - -"The scoundrel!" he said hoarsely, "and I let him escape!" - -"What!" cried Blair, jumping up. "You let him escape, Mr. -Beauchamp--and when you knew that he killed Achille Lestrange?" - -"It was my wish," struck in Sophy; "I thought he might repent." - -"Such scoundrels never repent, Miss Marlow," said Blair; "he has -committed two murders, he may commit two more. But I'll hunt him down. -He can't have gone far yet." - -"No, I don't suppose he has," said Alan. "He was here last night. By -the way, how did he kill Dr. Warrender, and why?" - -"Barkham!" - -The little man obeyed the voice of the inspector, and meekly repeated -his story. - -"Lestrange," he said, "did not believe that Mr. Beauchamp was dead. He -heard Mr. Thorold say something to the Rector about the key of the -vault----" - -"God bless me!" cried Phelps, "so you did, Alan." - -"Yes," said the little man, nodding, "then he stole the key. He sent -for the doctor to ask him about the burial. The doctor came, but -Lestrange was out." - -"Did Warrender recognize him?" asked Beauchamp abruptly. - -"No, sir, he did not--at least, not then. Well, Lestrange waited and -waited to enter the vault. When he went at last he found Warrender and -another man taking the body out. He followed them to the hut on the -heath; he tried to look in, and he made a slight noise. Warrender came -out, and in the moonlight he recognized Lestrange, who turned to run -away, but the doctor caught him and they struggled. Then Lestrange, -knowing that he would be arrested for the murder of Achille in -Jamaica, stabbed the doctor to the heart. Terrified at what he had -done, he lost his head, and hurried up to me in London. At first he -refused to tell me anything, but I made him drink," said Barkham, with -a leer, "and so I got the whole truth out of him." - -"You scoundrel!" cried Thorold. - -"Call me what you like," was the sullen rejoinder. "I wanted to get -money out of Beauchamp myself, and wrote to warn him that I might have -a claim on his gratitude. I was afraid to come here. I sent a letter -to Lestrange asking him for money, and it got into this policeman's -hands. He traced me, and brought me down here. That is all I know; but -as Mr. Beauchamp is alive, I ought to have something. After all, it -was I who warned him." - -"You shall have fifty pounds," said Beauchamp sternly. "But you must -leave England." - -"I don't know that I will let him," said Blair. "He should have -communicated with the police." - -"I'll turn Queen's evidence if you like," said Barkham. "I don't care -if I am arrested or not. I have had nothing but this fifty pounds--and -you call that gratitude, Mr. Beauchamp!" - -"Let him go, Blair, if you can consistently with your duty," said -Beauchamp. - -"I'll see," was the reply. "Hullo! what's that! Gramp, what do you -mean by rushing into the room?" - -It was indeed Cicero who stood, hot and puffing, at the door. He took -no notice of Blair, but addressed himself to Alan. - -"Mr. Thorold," he said, "I have information if you will pay me well." - -"You shall be paid if what you have to say is worth it." - -"Then I must tell you that Lestrange was the Quiet Gentleman. You see -this lancet? He stole it out of your desk, and gave it to me to say -that I found it in the hut. This proves that he was the Quiet -Gentleman, and I believe he murdered Dr. Warrender." - -"You do, you scoundrel!" cried Mr. Beauchamp. "But you are too -late--we know all!" - -"Too late!" cried Gramp. "Good heavens! to think of my getting -nothing, and Clara Maria two thousand pounds!" - - - * * * * * - - -Little remains to be told. Lestrange was traced to Southampton, but -there the trail was lost, much to the disappointment of Inspector -Blair, who, although he duly received the two thousand pounds, never -ceased to regret the man's escape. Alan paid him the reward gladly, -for without him the mystery would never have been solved, and Mr. -Beauchamp's innocence would never have been established. - -Sophy and Alan were married in the presence of the ex-millionaire and -of Miss Vicky. After the ceremony, the former left England with Joe. -He bought a small yacht, in which he and his faithful servant sail the -waters of the Mediterranean. No one has ever guessed the truth. - -Mrs. Marry continues to lament the loss of the Quiet Gentleman, but -she has always believed him to have been one and the same person. That -Mr. Beauchamp was the second representative of the part, she never -dreamed. Mr. Marlow is dead to the Heathton villagers, and to this day -they talk of the mystery which surrounded the disappearance of his -corpse--indeed, the vault has the reputation of being haunted. - -Barkham left England with his fifty pounds, and Mrs. Warrender -returned to America with her two thousand and her many jewels. There -she married a Canadian doctor, and vanished altogether. Cicero -received a small sum, and now spends his time frantically hunting for -Clara Maria, in the hope of extorting a share of her money; but Clara -Maria is a clever woman, and he is not likely to come across her. - -Sophy and Alan are supremely happy in their life at the Abbey Farm. -They make frequent trips to the Continent, where they meet Mr. -Beauchamp. - -Miss Vicky, too, is happy. She has Sophy's son and heir to care for, -and what more can she want? - -"The heir to millions," says the old lady, "and what a mystery there -was about it all! To this day, I don't understand everything." - -"Few people do," is Alan's reply. "The millionaire's mystery will -always remain a mystery in Heathton." - - - --------------------------------------------- -BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD. - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Millionaire Mystery, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY *** - -***** This file should be named 55961-8.txt or 55961-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/9/6/55961/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books -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. 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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. - diff --git a/old/55961-8.zip b/old/55961-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d1c9c85..0000000 --- a/old/55961-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55961-h.zip b/old/55961-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ed3c3a1..0000000 --- a/old/55961-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/55961-h/55961-h.htm b/old/55961-h/55961-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 4c6ec5c..0000000 --- a/old/55961-h/55961-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8310 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>The Millionaire Mystery</title> - -<meta name="Author" content="Fergus Hume"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Chatto & Windus"> -<meta name="Date" content="1901"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> -<style type="text/css"> -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF; - text-align: justify} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} -p.center {text-align: center;} -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - -</style> - -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Millionaire Mystery, 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 Millionaire Mystery - -Author: Fergus Hume - -Release Date: November 13, 2017 [EBook #55961] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books - - - - - -</pre> - - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source: Google Books<br> -https://books.google.com/books?id=749DAQAAMAAJ</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h5>BY</h5> -<h4>FERGUS HUME</h4> -<br> -<h5>AUTHOR OF<br> -"THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB," "THE LADY FROM NOWHERE," ETC.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>LONDON<br> -CHATTO & WINDUS</h4> -<h5>1901</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<table cellpadding="10" style="width:90%; margin-left:5%; font-weight:bold"> -<colgroup><col style="width:20%; vertical-align:top; text-align:right"><col style="width:80%; vertical-align:top; text-align:left"></colgroup> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><h3>CONTENTS</h3></td> -</tr><tr> -<td>CHAPTER.</td> -<td> </td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">I.</a></td> -<td>A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">II.</a></td> -<td>THE HUT ON THE HEATH</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">III.</a></td> -<td>AN ELEGANT EPISTLE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">IV.</a></td> -<td>ANOTHER SURPRISE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_05" href="#div1_05">V.</a></td> -<td>A NINE DAYS' WONDER</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_06" href="#div1_06">VI.</a></td> -<td>THE MISSING KEY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_07" href="#div1_07">VII.</a></td> -<td>IN DIXON'S RENTS</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_08" href="#div1_08">VIII.</a></td> -<td>AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_09" href="#div1_09">IX.</a></td> -<td>INVESTIGATION</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_10" href="#div1_10">X.</a></td> -<td>ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_11" href="#div1_11">XI.</a></td> -<td>THE STRANGER</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_12" href="#div1_12">XII.</a></td> -<td>A STRANGE STORY</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_13" href="#div1_13">XIII.</a></td> -<td>A STRANGE STORY--<i>continued</i></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_14" href="#div1_14">XIV.</a></td> -<td>THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_15" href="#div1_15">XV.</a></td> -<td>TROUBLE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_16" href="#div1_16">XVI.</a></td> -<td>ALAN'S DEFENCE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_17" href="#div1_17">XVII.</a></td> -<td>JOE'S EVIDENCE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_18" href="#div1_18">XVIII.</a></td> -<td>A PORTION OF THE TRUTH</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_19" href="#div1_19">XIX.</a></td> -<td>A REAPPEARANCE</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_20" href="#div1_20">XX.</a></td> -<td>THE AMAZEMENT OF ALAN THOROLD</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_21" href="#div1_21">XXI.</a></td> -<td>THE STORY OF THE PAST</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_22" href="#div1_22">XXII.</a></td> -<td>THE BEGINNING OF THE END</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_23" href="#div1_23">XXIII.</a></td> -<td>ONE PART OF THE TRUTH</td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div1Ref_24" href="#div1_24">XXIV.</a></td> -<td>THE OTHER PART OF THE TRUTH</td> -</tr></table> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01">CHAPTER I.</a></h4> -<h5>A MIDNIGHT SURPRISE</h5> -<br> - -<p>Steering his course by a tapering spire notched in the eye of the -sunset, a tramp slouched along the Heathton Road. From the western sky -a flood of crimson light poured over the dusty white highway, which -led straightly across the moor. To right and left, acres of sear -coarse herbage rolled towards the distant hills, now black against the -flaming horizon. In the quivering air gnats danced and flickered; the -earth panted with the thirst of a lengthy drought, and the sky arched -itself over the heat of a fiery furnace.</p> - -<p>For many hours the tramp had held on steadily in the pitiless glare of -the mid-June sun, and now that he saw ahead of him the spire and -house-roofs and encircling trees of the village whither he was bound, -a sigh of relief burst from him.</p> - -<p>To ease his aching feet he sat down beside a moldering millstone and -wiped his beaded brow with a red bandana. He did not swear, which was -singular in a tramp.</p> - -<p>Apparently he had but recently joined the cadging profession, for -about him there lingered an air of respectability and the marks of a -prosperity not wholly decayed. He was stout, rubicund of countenance, -and he wheezed like a sick grampus. Watery gray eyes and a strawberry -nose revealed the seasoned toper; thick lips and a slack mouth the -sensualist. As a begging friar of medæval times he would have been -altogether admirable; as a modern tramp he was out of the picture.</p> - -<p>Clothed in a broadcloth frock-coat considerably the worse for wear, he -wore--oddly enough for a tramp--gaiters over his gouty-looking boots. -His black gloves were darned at the finger-tips, and his battered silk -hat had been ironed and brushed with sedulous care. This rook-like -plumage was now plentifully sprinkled with the white dust of travel. -His gait, in spite of his blistered feet, was dignified, and his -manners were imposing.</p> - -<p>The road was lonely, likewise the heath. There was no one in sight, -not even a returning plowman; but the recumbent wayfarer could hear, -mellowed by distance, the bells of homing cows. Beasts as they were, -he envied them. They at least had a place to sleep in for the night; -he was without a home, without even the necessary money to procure -shelter. Luckily it was summer-time, dry and warm. Also the tramp -affected the philosopher.</p> - -<p>"This," he remarked, eying a sixpence extracted from the knotted -corner of his handkerchief, "is a drink--two drinks if I take beer, -which is gouty. But it is not a meal nor a bed. No! one drink, and a -morsel of bread-and-cheese. But the bed! Ah!" He stared at the coin -with a sigh, as though he hoped it would swell into a shilling. It did -not, and he sighed again. "Shall I have good luck in this place?" -cried he. "Heads I shall, tails I shan't." The coin spun and fell -heads. "Ha!" said the tramp, getting on to his feet, "this must be -seen to. I fly to good fortune on willing feet," and he resumed his -trudging.</p> - -<p>A quarter of an hour brought him to the encircling wood. He passed -beyond pine and larch and elm into a cozy little village with one -street. This was broken in the center by an expanse of green turf -surrounded by red-roofed houses, amongst them--as he saw from the -swinging sign--a public-house, called, quaintly enough, the Good -Samaritan.</p> - -<p>"Scriptural," said the stranger--"possibly charitable. Let us see." He -strode forward into the taproom.</p> - -<p>In the oiliest of tones he inquired for the landlord. But in this -case, it appeared, there was no landlord, for a vixenish little woman, -lean as a cricket and as shrill, bounced out with the information that -she, Mrs. Timber, was the landlady. Her husband, she snapped out, was -dead. To the tramp this hostess appeared less promising than the -seductive sign, and he quailed somewhat at the sight of her. However, -with a brazen assurance born of habit, he put a bold face on it, -peremptorily demanding bread, cheese, and ale. The request for a bed -he left in abeyance, for besides the vixenish Mrs. Timber there -hovered around a stalwart pot-boy, whose rolled-up sleeves revealed a -biceps both admirable and formidable.</p> - -<p>"Bread, cheese, and ale," repeated the landlady, with a sharp glance -at her guest's clerical dress, "for this. And who may you be, sir?" -she asked, with a world of sarcasm expended on the "sir."</p> - -<p>"My name is Cicero Gramp. I am a professor of elocution and -eloquence."</p> - -<p>"Ho! a play-actor?" Mrs. Timber became more disdainful than ever.</p> - -<p>"Not at all; I am not on the boards. I recite to the best families. -The Bishop of Idlechester has complimented me on my----"</p> - -<p>"Here's the bread-and-cheese," interrupted the landlady, "likewise the -beer. Sixpence!"</p> - -<p>Very reluctantly Mr. Gramp produced his last remaining coin. She -dropped it into a capacious pocket, and retired without vouchsafing -him another word. Cicero, somewhat discouraged by this reception, -congratulated himself that the night was fine for out-of-door slumber. -He ensconced himself in a corner with his frugal supper, and listened -to the chatter going on around him. It appeared to be concerned with -the funeral of a local magnate. Despite the prophecy of the coin, now -in Mrs. Timber's pocket, Cicero failed to see how he could extract -good fortune out of his present position. However, he listened; some -chance word might mean money.</p> - -<p>"Ah! 'tis a fine dry airy vault," said a lean man who proved to be a -stonemason. "Never built a finer, I didn't, nor my mates neither. An' -Muster Marlow'll have it all to 'isself."</p> - -<p>"Such a situation!" croaked another. "Bang opposite the Lady Chapel! -An' the view from that there vault! I don't know as any corp 'ud -require a finer."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Marlow'll be lonely by himself," sighed a buxom woman; "there's -room for twenty coffins, an' only one in the vault. 'Tain't -natural-like."</p> - -<p>"Well," chimed in the village schoolmaster, "'twill soon fill. There's -Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Dratted nonsense!" cried Mrs. Timber, making a dash into the company -with a tankard of beer in each hand. "Miss Sophy'll marry Mr. -Thorold, won't she? An' he, as the Squire of Heathton, 'as a family -vault, ain't he? She'll sleep beside him as his wife, lawfully -begotten."</p> - -<p>"The Thorolds' vault is crowded," objected the stonemason. "Why, -there's three-hundred-year dead folk there! A very old gentry lot, the -Thorolds."</p> - -<p>"Older than your Marlows!" snapped Mrs. Timber. "Who was he afore he -came to take the Moat House five year ago? Came from nowhere--a tree -without a root."</p> - -<p>The schoolmaster contradicted.</p> - -<p>"Nay, he came from Africa, I know--from Mashonaland, which is said to -be the Ophir of King Solomon. And Mr. Marlow was a millionaire!"</p> - -<p>"Much good his money'll do him now," groaned the buxom woman, who was -a Dissenter. "Ah! Dives in torment."</p> - -<p>"You've no call to say that, Mrs. Berry. Mr. Marlow wasn't a bad man."</p> - -<p>"He was charitable, I don't deny, an' went to church regular," -assented Mrs. Berry; "but he died awful sudden. Seems like a judgment -for something he'd done."</p> - -<p>"He died quietly," said the schoolmaster. "Dr. Warrender told me all -about it--a kind of fit at ten o'clock last Thursday, and on Friday -night he passed away as a sleeping child. He was not even sufficiently -conscious to say good-by to Miss Sophy."</p> - -<p>"Ah, poor girl! she's gone to the seaside with Miss Parsh to nurse her -sorrow."</p> - -<p>"It will soon pass--soon pass," observed the schoolmaster, waving -his pipe. "The young don't think much of death. Miss Sophy's rich, -too--rich as the Queen of Sheba, and she will marry Mr. Thorold in a -few months. Funeral knells will give way to wedding-bells, Mrs. -Berry."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" sighed Mrs. Berry, feeling she was called upon for an -appropriate sentiment; "you may say so, Mr. Stack. Such is life!"</p> - -<p>Cicero, munching his bread-and-cheese, felt that his imposing -personality was being neglected, and seized upon what he deemed his -opportunity.</p> - -<p>"If this company will permit," he said, "I propose now to give a -recitation apropos of the present melancholy event. Need I say I refer -to the lamented death of Mr. Marlow?"</p> - -<p>"I'll have no godless mumming here," said Mrs. Timber firmly. -"Besides, what do you know about Mr. Marlow?"</p> - -<p>Whereupon Cicero lied lustily to impress the bumpkins, basing his -fiction upon such facts as his ears had enabled him to come by.</p> - -<p>"Marlow!" he wailed, drawing forth his red bandana for effect. "Did I -not know him as I know myself? Were we not boys together till he went -to Africa?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you can tell us about Mr. Marlow," said the schoolmaster -eagerly. "None of us knows exactly who he was. He appeared here with -his daughter some five years ago, and took the Moat House. He was -rich, and people said he had made his riches in South Africa."</p> - -<p>"He did! he did!" said Cicero, deeply affected. "Millions he was -worth--millions! I came hither to see him, and I arrive to find the -fond friend of my youth dead. Oh, Jonathan, my brother Jonathan!"</p> - -<p>"His name was Richard," said Mrs. Timber suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"I know it, I know it. I use the appellation Jonathan merely in -illustration of the close friendship which was between us. I am -David."</p> - -<p>"H'm!" snorted Mrs. Timber, eying him closely, "and who was Mr. -Marlow?"</p> - -<p>This leading question perplexed Mr. Gramp not a little, for he knew -nothing about the man.</p> - -<p>"What!" he cried, with simulated horror. "Reveal the secrets of the -dead? Never! never!"</p> - -<p>"Secrets?" repeated the lean stonemason eagerly. "Ah! I always thought -Mr. Marlow had 'em. He looked over his shoulder too often for my -liking. An' there was a look on his face frequent which pointed, I may -say, to a violent death."</p> - -<p>"Ah! say not that my friend Dick Marlow came to an untimely end."</p> - -<p>This outcry came from Cicero; it was answered by Mrs. Timber.</p> - -<p>"He died of a fit," she said tartly, "and that quietly enough, -considering as Dr. Warrender can testify. But now we've talked enough, -an' I'm going to lock up; so get out, all of you!"</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the taproom was cleared and the lights out. Cicero, -greatly depressed, lingered in the porch, wondering how to circumvent -the dragon.</p> - -<p>"Well," snapped that amiable beast, "what are you waitin' for?"</p> - -<p>"You couldn't give me a bed for the night?"</p> - -<p>"Course I could, for a shillin'."</p> - -<p>"I haven't a shilling, I regret to say."</p> - -<p>"Then you'd best get one, or go without your bed," replied the lady, -and banged the door in his face.</p> - -<p>Under this last indignity even Cicero's philosophy gave way, and he -launched an ecclesiastic curse at the inhospitable inn.</p> - -<p>Fortunately the weather was warm and tranquil. Not a breath of wind -stirred the trees. The darkling earth was silent--silent as the -watching stars. Even the sordid soul of the vagabond was stirred by -the solemn majesty of the sky. He removed his battered hat and looked -up.</p> - -<p>"The heavens are telling the glory of God," he said; but, not -recollecting the rest of the text, he resumed his search for a -resting-place.</p> - -<p>It was now only between nine and ten o'clock, yet, as he wandered down -the silent street, he could see no glimmer of a light in any window. -His feet took him, half unconsciously as it were, by the path leading -towards the tapering spire. He went on through a belt of pines which -surrounded the church, and came suddenly upon the graveyard, populous -with the forgotten dead--at least, he judged they were forgotten by -the state of the tombstones.</p> - -<p>On the hither side he came upon a circular chapel, with lance-shaped -windows and marvelous decoration wrought in gray-stone on the outer -walls. Some distance off rose a low wall, encircling the graveyard, -and beyond the belt of pines through which he had just passed -stretched the league-long herbage of the moor. He guessed this must be -the Lady Chapel.</p> - -<p>Between the building and the low wall he noticed a large tomb of white -marble, surmounted by a winged angel with a trumpet. "Dick Marlow's -tomb," he surmised. Then he proceeded to walk round it as that of his -own familiar friend, for he had already half persuaded himself into -some such belief.</p> - -<p>But he realized very soon that he had not come hither for -sight-seeing, for his limbs ached, and his feet burned, and his eyes -were heavy with sleep. He rolled along towards a secluded corner, -where the round of the Lady Chapel curved into the main wall of the -church. There he found a grassy nook, warm and dry. He removed his -gloves with great care, placed them in his silk hat, and then took off -his boots and loosened his clothes. Finally he settled himself down -amid the grass, put a hand up either coat-sleeve for warmth, and was -soon wrapped in a sound slumber.</p> - -<p>He slept on undisturbed until one o'clock, when--as say out-of-door -observers--the earth turns in her slumber. This vagrant, feeling as it -were the stir of Nature, turned too. A lowing of cows came from the -moor beyond the pines. A breath of cool air swept through the -branches, and the somber boughs swayed like the plumes of a hearse. -Across the face of the sky ran a shiver. He heard distinctly what he -had not noticed before, the gush of running water. He roused himself -and sat up alert, and strained his hearing. What was it he heard now? -He listened and strained again. Voices surely! Men's voices!</p> - -<p>There could be no mistake. Voices he heard, though he could not catch -the words they said. A tremor shook his whole body. Then, curiosity -getting the better of his fear, he wriggled forward flat on his -stomach until he was in such a position that he could peer round the -corner of the Lady Chapel. Here he saw a sight which scared him.</p> - -<p>Against the white wall of the mausoleum bulked two figures, one tall, -the other short. The shorter carried a lantern. They stood on the -threshold of the iron door, and the tall man was listening. They were -nearer now, so that he could hear their talk very plainly.</p> - -<p>"All is quiet," said the taller man. "No one will suspect. We'll get -him away easily."</p> - -<p>Then Cicero heard the key grate in the lock, saw the door open and the -men disappear into the tomb. He was sick with terror, and was minded -to make a clean bolt of it; but with the greatest effort he controlled -his fears and remained. There might be money in this adventure.</p> - -<p>In ten minutes the men came out carrying a dark form between them, as -Cicero guessed, the dead body of Richard Marlow. They set down their -burden, made fast the door, and took up again the sinister load. He -saw them carry it towards the low stone wall. Over this they lifted -it, climbed over themselves, and disappeared into the pine-woods.</p> - -<p>Cicero waited until he could no longer hear the rustle of their -progress; then he crept cautiously forward and tried the door of the -tomb. It was fast locked.</p> - -<p>"Resurrection-men! body-snatchers!" he moaned.</p> - -<p>He felt shaken to his very soul by the ghastliness of the whole -proceeding. Then suddenly the awkwardness of his own position, if by -chance any one should find him there, rushed in upon his mind, and, -without so much as another glance, he made off as quickly as he could -in the opposite direction.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02">CHAPTER II.</a></h4> -<h5>THE HUT ON THE HEATH</h5> -<br> - -<p>"I'm glad it's all over," said the footman, waving a cigar stolen from -the box of his master. "Funerals don't suit me."</p> - -<p>"Yet we must all 'ave one of our own some day," said the cook, who was -plainly under the influence of gin; "an' that pore Miss Sophy--me 'art -bleeds for 'er!"</p> - -<p>"An' she with 'er millions," growled a red-faced coachman. "Wot rot!"</p> - -<p>"Come now, John, you know Miss Sophy was fond of her father"--this -from a sprightly housemaid, who was trimming a hat.</p> - -<p>"I dunno why," said John. "Master was as cold as ice, an' as silent as -'arf a dozen graves."</p> - -<p>The scullery-maid shuddered, and spread out her grimy hands.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. John, don't talk of graves, please! I've 'ad the nightmare -over 'em."</p> - -<p>"Don't put on airs an' make out as 'ow you've got nerves, Cammelliar," -put in the cook tearfully. "It's me as 'as 'em--I've a bundle of -'em--real shivers. Ah, well! we're cut down like green bay-trees, to -be sure. Pass that bottle, Mr. Thomas."</p> - -<p>This discussion took place in the kitchen of the Moat House. The -heiress and Miss Parsh, the housekeeper, had departed for the seaside -immediately after the funeral, and in the absence of control, the -domestics were making merry. To be sure, Mr. Marlow's old and trusted -servant, Joe Brill, had been told off to keep them in order, but just -at present his grief was greater than his sense of duty. He was busy -now sorting papers in the library--hence the domestic chaos.</p> - -<p>It was, in truth, a cheerful kitchen, more especially at the present -moment, with the noonday sun streaming in through the open casements. -A vast apartment with a vast fireplace of the baronial hall kind; -brown oaken walls and raftered roof; snow-white dresser and huge deal -table, and a floor of shining white tiles.</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence after the last unanswerable observation -of the cook. It was broken by a voice at the open door--a voice which -boomed like the drone of a bumble-bee.</p> - -<p>"Peace be unto this house," said the voice richly, "and plenty be its -portion."</p> - -<p>The women screeched, the men swore--since the funeral their nerves had -not been quite in order--and all eyes turned towards the door. There, -in the hot sunshine, stood an enormously fat old man, clothed in -black, and perspiring profusely. It was, in fact, none other than -Cicero Gramp, come in the guise of Autolycus to pick up news and -unconsidered trifles. He smiled benignly, and raised his fat hand.</p> - -<p>"Peace, maid-servants and men-servants," said he, after the manner of -Chadband. "There is no need for alarm. I am a stranger, and you must -take me in."</p> - -<p>"Who the devil are you?" queried the coachman.</p> - -<p>"We want no tramps here," growled the footman.</p> - -<p>"I am no tramp," said Cicero mildly, stepping into the kitchen. "I am -a professor of elocution and eloquence, and a friend of your late -master's. He went up in the world, I dropped down. Now I come to him -for assistance, and I find him occupying the narrow house; yes, my -friends, Dick Marlow is as low as the worms whose prey he soon will -be. Pax vobiscum!"</p> - -<p>"Calls master 'Dick,'" said the footman.</p> - -<p>"Sez 'e's an old friend," murmured the cook.</p> - -<p>They looked at each other, and the thought in every mind was the same. -The servants were one and all anxious to hear the genesis of their -late master, who had dropped into the Moat House, as from the skies, -some five years before. Mrs. Crammer, the cook, rose to the occasion -with a curtsy.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure, sir, I'm sorry the master ain't here to see you," she said, -polishing a chair with her apron. "But as you says--or as I take it -you means--'e's gone where we must all go. Take a seat, sir, and I'll -tell Joe, who's in the library."</p> - -<p>"Joe--my old friend Joe!" said Cicero, sitting down like a mountain. -"Ah! the faithful fellow!"</p> - -<p>This random remark brought forth information, which was Cicero's -intention in making it.</p> - -<p>"Faithful!" growled the coachman, "an' why not? Joe Brill was paid -higher nor any of us, he was; just as of living all his life with an -iceberg deserved it!"</p> - -<p>"Poor Dick <i>was</i> an iceberg!" sighed Cicero pensively. "A cold, -secretive man."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Mrs. Crammer, wiping her eye, "you may well say that. He -'ad secrets, I'm sure, and guilty ones, too!"</p> - -<p>"We all have our skeletons, ma'am. But would you mind giving me -something to eat and to drink? for I have walked a long way. I am too -poor," said Cicero, with a sweet smile, "to ride, as in the days of my -infancy, but <i>spero meliora</i>."</p> - -<p>"Talking about skeletons, sir," said the footman when Mr. Gramp's jaws -were fully occupied, "what about the master's?"</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Gramp profoundly. "What indeed!"</p> - -<p>"But whatever it is, it has to do with the West Indies," said the man.</p> - -<p>"Lor'!" exclaimed the housemaid, "and how do you know that, Mr. -Thomas?"</p> - -<p>"From observation, Jane, my dear," Thomas smiled loftily. "A week or -two afore master had the fit as took him, I brought in a letter with -the West Indy stamp. He turned white as chalk when he saw it, and tore -it open afore I could get out of the room. I 'ad to fetch a glass of -whisky. He was struck all of a 'eap--gaspin', faintin', and cussin' -orful."</p> - -<p>"Did he show it to Miss Sophy?" asked Mrs. Crammer.</p> - -<p>"Not as I knows of. He kept his business to hisself," replied Thomas.</p> - -<p>Gramp was taking in all this with greedy ear's.</p> - -<p>"Ha!" he said, "when you took in the letter, might you have looked at -the postmark, my friend?"</p> - -<p>With an access of color, the footman admitted that he had been curious -enough to do so.</p> - -<p>"And the postmark was Kingston, Jamaica," said he.</p> - -<p>"It recalls my youth," said Cicero. "Ah! they were happy, happy days!"</p> - -<p>"What was Mr. Marlow, sir?"</p> - -<p>"A planter of--of--rice," hazarded Gramp. He knew that there were -planters in the West Indies, but he was not quite sure what it was -they planted. "Rice--acres of it!"</p> - -<p>"Well, he didn't make his money out of that, sir," growled the -coachman.</p> - -<p>"No, he did not," admitted the professor of elocution. "He acquired -his millions in Mashonaland--the Ophir of the Jews."</p> - -<p>This last piece of knowledge had been acquired from Slack, the -schoolmaster.</p> - -<p>"He was precious careful not to part with none of it," said the -footman.</p> - -<p>"Except to Dr. Warrender," said the cook. "The doctor was always -screwing money out of him. Not that it was so much 'im as 'is wife. I -can't abear that doctor's wife--a stuck-up peacock, I call her. She -fairly ruined her husband in clothes. Miss Sophy didn't like her, -neither."</p> - -<p>"Dick's child!" cried Gramp, who had by this time procured a cigar -from the footman. "Ah! is little Sophy still alive?"</p> - -<p>He lighted the cigar and puffed luxuriously.</p> - -<p>"Still alive!" echoed Mrs. Crammer, "and as pretty as a picture. Dark -'air, dark eyes--not a bit like 'er father."</p> - -<p>"No," said Cicero, grasping the idea. "Dick was fair when we were -boys. I heard rumors that little Sophy was engaged--let me see--to a -Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"Alan Thorold, Esquire," corrected the coachman gruffly; "one of the -oldest families hereabouts, as lives at the Abbey farm. He's gone with -her to the seaside."</p> - -<p>"To the seaside? Not to Brighton?"</p> - -<p>"Nothin' of the sort--to Bournemouth, if you know where that is."</p> - -<p>"I know some things, my friend," said Cicero mildly. "It was -Bournemouth I meant--not unlike Brighton, I think, since both names -begin with a B. I know that Miss Marlow--dear little Sophy!--is -staying at the Imperial Hotel, Bournemouth."</p> - -<p>"You're just wrong!" cried Thomas, falling into the trap; "she is at -the Soudan Hotel. I've got the address to send on letters."</p> - -<p>"Can I take them?" asked Gramp, rising. "I am going to Bournemouth to -see little Sophy and Mr. Thorold. I shall tell them of your -hospitality."</p> - -<p>Before the footman could reply to this generous offer, the page-boy of -the establishment darted in much excited.</p> - -<p>"Oh, here's a go!" he exclaimed. "Dr. Warrender's run away, an' the -Quiet Gentleman's followed!"</p> - -<p>"Wot d'ye mean, Billy?"</p> - -<p>"Wot I say. The doctor ain't bin 'ome all night, nor all mornin', an' -Mrs. Warrender's in hysterics over him. Their 'ousemaid I met shoppin' -tole me."</p> - -<p>The servants looked at one another. Here was more trouble, more -excitement.</p> - -<p>"And the Quiet Gentleman?" asked the cook with ghoulish interest.</p> - -<p>"He's gone, too. Went out larst night, an' never come back. Mrs. Marry -thinks he's bin murdered."</p> - -<p>There was a babel of voices and cries, but after a moment quiet was -restored. Then Cicero placed his hand on the boy's head.</p> - -<p>"My boy," he said pompously, "who is the Quiet Gentleman? Let us be -clear upon the point of the Quiet Gentleman."</p> - -<p>"Don't you know, sir?" put in the eager cook. "He's a mystery, 'aving -bin staying at Mrs. Marry's cottage, she a lone widder taking in -boarders."</p> - -<p>"I'll give a week's notice!" sobbed the scullery-maid. "These crimes -is too much for me."</p> - -<p>"I didn't say the Quiet Gentleman 'ad been murdered," said Billy, the -page; "but Mrs. Marry only thinks so, cos 'e ain't come 'ome.'</p> - -<p>"As like as not he's cold and stiff in some lonely grave!" groaned -Mrs. Crammer hopefully.</p> - -<p>"The Quiet Gentleman," said Cicero, bent upon acquiring further -information--"tall, yellow-bearded, with a high forehead and a bald -head?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I never, sir!" cried Jane, the housemaid. "If you ain't -describing Dr. Warrender! Did you know him, sir?"</p> - -<p>Cicero was quite equal to the occasion.</p> - -<p>"I knew him professionally. He attended me for a relaxed throat. I was -<i>vox et præterea nihil</i> until he cured me. But what was this -mysterious gentleman like? Short, eh?"</p> - -<p>"No; tall and thin, with a stoop. Long white hair, longer beard and -black eyes like gimblets," gabbled the cook. "I met 'im arter dark one -evenin', and I declare as 'is eyes were glow-worms. Ugh! They looked -me through and through. I've never bin the same woman since."</p> - -<p>At this moment a raucous voice came from the inner doorway.</p> - -<p>"What the devil's all this?" was the polite question.</p> - -<p>Cicero turned, and saw a heavily-built man surveying the company in -general, and himself in particular, anything but favorably. His face -was a mahogany hue, and he had a veritable tangle of whiskers and -hair. The whole cut of the man was distinctly nautical, his trousers -being of the dungaree, and his pea-jacket plentifully sprinkled with -brass buttons. In his ears he wore rings of gold, and his clenched -fists hung by his side as though eager for any emergency, and "the -sooner the better." That was how he impressed Cicero, who, in nowise -fancying the expression on his face, edged towards the door.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Joe!" shrieked the cook, "wot a turn you give me! an' sich news -as we've 'ad!"</p> - -<p>"News!" said Joe uneasily, his eyes still on Cicero.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Warrender's lost her husband, and the Quiet Gentleman's -disappeared mysterious!"</p> - -<p>"Rubbish! Get to your work, all of you!"</p> - -<p>So saying, Joe drove the frightened crowd hither and thither to their -respective duties, and Cicero, somewhat to his dismay, found himself -alone with the buccaneer, as he had inwardly dubbed the newcomer.</p> - -<p>"Who the devil are you?" asked Joe, advancing.</p> - -<p>"Fellow," replied Cicero, getting into the doorway, "I am a friend of -your late master. Cicero Gramp is my name. I came here to see Dick -Marlow, but I find he's gone aloft."</p> - -<p>Joe turned pale, even through his tan.</p> - -<p>"A friend of Mr. Marlow," he repeated hoarsely. "That's a lie! I've -been with him these thirty years, and I never saw you!"</p> - -<p>"Not in Jamaica?" inquired Cicero sweetly.</p> - -<p>"Jamaica? What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"What I wrote in that letter your master received before he died."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you liar! I know the man who wrote it." Joe clenched his fists -more tightly and swung forward. "You're a rank impostor, and I'll hand -you over to the police, lest I smash you completely!"</p> - -<p>Cicero saw he had made a mistake, but he did not flinch. Hardihood -alone could carry him through now.</p> - -<p>"Do," he said. "I'm particularly anxious to see the police, Mr. Joe -Brill."</p> - -<p>"Who are you, in Heaven's name?" shouted Joe, much agitated. "Do you -come from him?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I do," answered Cicero, wondering to whom the "him" might now -refer.</p> - -<p>"Then go back and tell him he's too late--too late, curse him! and you -too, you lubber!"</p> - -<p>"Very good." Cicero stepped out into the hot sunshine. "I'll deliver -your message--for a sovereign."</p> - -<p>Joe Brill tugged at his whiskers, and cast an uneasy glance around. -Evidently, he was by no means astute, and the present situation was -rather too much for him. His sole idea, for some reason best known to -himself, was to get rid of Cicero. With a groan, he plunged his huge -fist into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin.</p> - -<p>"Here, take it and go to hell!" he said, throwing it to Cicero.</p> - -<p>"Mariner, <i>fata obstant</i>," rolled Gramp in his deep voice.</p> - -<p>Then he strode haughtily away. He looked round as he turned the corner -of the house, and saw Joe clutching his iron-gray locks, still at the -kitchen door.</p> - -<p>So with a guinea in his pocket and a certain amount of knowledge which -he hoped would bring him many more, Cicero departed, considerable -uplifted. At the village grocery he bought bread, meat and a bottle of -whisky, then he proceeded to shake the dust of Heathton off his feet. -As he stepped out on to the moor he recalled the Latin words he had -used, and he shuddered.</p> - -<p>"Why did I say that?" he murmured. "The words came into my head -somehow. Just when Joe was talking of my employer, too! Who is my -employer? What has he to do with all this? I'm all in the dark! So Dr. -Warrender's gone, and the Quiet Gentleman too. It must have been Dr. -Warrender who helped to steal Marlow's body. The description tallies -exactly--tall, fair beard and bald. I wonder if t'other chap was the -Quiet Gentleman? And what on earth could they want with the body? Any -way, the body's gone, and, as it's a millionaire corpse, I'll have -some of its money or I'm a Dutchman!"</p> - -<p>He stopped and placed his hand to his head.</p> - -<p>"Bournemouth, Bournemouth!" he muttered. "Ah, that's it--the Soudan -Hotel, Bournemouth!"</p> - -<p>It was now the middle of the afternoon, and, as he plodded on, the -moor glowed like a furnace. No vestige of shade was there beneath -which to rest, not even a tree or a bush. Then, a short distance up -the road, he espied a hut. It seemed to be in ruins. It was a -shepherd's hut, no doubt. The grass roof was torn, the door was -broken, though closed, and the mud walls were crumbling. Impatient of -any obstacle, he shoved his back against it and burst it open. It had -been fastened with a piece of rope. He fell in, headlong almost. But -the gloom was grateful to him, though for the moment he could see but -little.</p> - -<p>When his eyes had become more accustomed to the half-light, the first -object upon which they fell was a stiff human form stretched on the -mud floor--a body with a handkerchief over the face. Yelling with -terror, Cicero hurled himself out again.</p> - -<p>"Marlow's body!" he gasped. "They've put it here!"</p> - -<p>With feverish haste he produced a corkscrew knife, and opened his -whisky bottle. A fiery draught gave him courage. He ventured back into -the hut and knelt down beside the body. Over the heart gaped an ugly -wound, and the clothes were caked with blood. He gasped again.</p> - -<p>"No fit this, but murder! Stabbed to the heart! And Joe--what does Joe -know about this--and my employer? Lord!"</p> - -<p>He snatched the handkerchief from the face, and fell back on his knees -with another cry, this time of wonderment rather than of terror. He -beheld the dead man's fair beard and bald head.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Warrender! And he was alive last night! This is murder indeed!"</p> - -<p>Then his nerves gave way utterly, and he began to cry like a -frightened child.</p> - -<p>"Murder! Wilful and horrible murder!" wept the professor of elocution -and eloquence.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03">CHAPTER III.</a></h4> -<h5>AN ELEGANT EPISTLE</h5> -<br> - -<p>On Bournemouth cliffs, where pine-trees cluster to the edge, sat an -elderly spinster, knitting a homely stocking. She wore, in spite of -the heat, a handsome cashmere shawl, pinned across her spare shoulders -with a portrait brooch, and that hideous variety of Early Victorian -head-gear known as the mushroom hat. From under this streamed a frizzy -crop of gray curls, which framed a rosy, wrinkled face, brightened by -twinkling eyes. These, sparkling as those of sweet seventeen, proved -that their owner was still young in heart. This quaint survival of the -last century knitted as assiduously as was possible under the -circumstances, for at a discreet distance were two young people, -towards whom she acted the part of chaperon. Doubtless such an office -is somewhat out-of-date nowadays; but Miss Victoria Parsh would rather -have died than have left a young girl alone in the company of a young -man.</p> - -<p>Yet she knew well enough that this young man was altogether above -reproach, and, moreover, engaged by parental consent to the pretty -girl to whom he was talking so earnestly. And no one could deny that -Sophy Marlow was indeed charming. There was somewhat of the Andalusian -about her. Not very tall, shaped delicately as a nymph, she well -deserved Alan Thorold's name. He called her the "Midnight Fairy," and, -indeed, she looked like a brunette Titania. Her complexion was dark, -and faintly flushed with red; her mouth and nose were exquisitely -shaped, while her eyes were wells of liquid light--glorious Spanish -orbs. About her, too, was that peculiar charm of personality which -defies description.</p> - -<p>Alan her lover, was not tall, but uncommonly well-built and muscular, -as fair as Sophy was dark--of that golden Saxon race which came before -the Dane. Not that he could be called handsome. He was simply a clean, -clear-skinned, well-groomed young Englishman, such as can be seen -everywhere. Of a strong character, he exercised great control over his -somewhat frivolous betrothed.</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky, as the little spinster was usually called, cast romantic -glances at the dark head and the fair one so close to one another. As -a rule she would have been shocked at such a sight, but she knew how -keenly Sophy grieved for the death of her father, and was only too -willing that the girl should be comforted. And Miss Vicky occasionally -touched the brooch, which contained the portrait of a red-coated -officer. She also had lived in Arcady, but her Lieutenant had been -shot in the Indian Mutiny, and Miss Vicky had left Arcady after a -short sojourn, for a longer one in the work-a-day world. At once, she -had lost her lover and her small income, and, like many another lonely -woman, had had to turn to and work. But the memory of that short -romance kept her heart young, hence her sympathy with this young -couple.</p> - -<p>"Poor dear father!" sighed Sophy, looking at the sea below, dotted -with white sails. "I can hardly believe he is gone. Only two weeks ago -and he was so well, and now--oh! I was so fond of him! We were so -happy together! He was cold to everyone else, but kindly to me! How -could he have died so suddenly, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"Well, of course, dear, a fit is always sudden. But try and bear up, -Sophy dear. Don't give way like this. Be comforted."</p> - -<p>She looked up wistfully to the blue sky.</p> - -<p>"At all events, he is at peace now," she said, her lip quivering. "I -know he was often very unhappy, poor father! He used to sit for hours -frowning and perplexed, as if there was something terrible on his -mind."</p> - -<p>Alan's face was turned away now, and his brow was wrinkled. He seemed -absorbed in thought, as though striving to elucidate some problem -suggested by her words.</p> - -<p>Wrapped up in her own sorrow, the girl did not notice his momentary -preoccupation, but continued:</p> - -<p>"He never said good-bye to me. Dr. Warrender said he was insensible -for so long before death that it was useless my seeing him. He kept me -out of the room, so I only saw him--afterwards. I'll never forgive the -doctor for it. It was cruel!"</p> - -<p>She sobbed hysterically.</p> - -<p>"Sophy," said Alan suddenly, "had your father any enemies?"</p> - -<p>She looked round at him in astonishment.</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I don't think so. Why should he? He was the kindest man -in the world."</p> - -<p>"I am sure he was," replied the young man warmly; "but even the -kindest may have enemies."</p> - -<p>"He might have made enemies in Africa," she said gravely. "It was -there he made his money, and I suppose there are people mean enough to -hate a man who is successful, especially if his success results in a -fortune of some two millions. Father used to say he despised most -people. That was why he lived so quietly at the Moat House."</p> - -<p>"It was particularly quiet till you came, Sophy."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure it was," she replied, with the glimmer of a smile. "Still, -although <i>he</i> had not me, you had your profession."</p> - -<p>"Ah! my poor profession! I always regret having given it up."</p> - -<p>"Why did you?"</p> - -<p>"You know, Sophy. I have told you a dozen times. I wanted to be a -surgeon, but my father always objected to a Thorold being of service -to his fellow-creatures. I could never understand why. The estate was -not entailed, and by my father's will I was to lose it, or give up all -hope of becoming a doctor. For my mother's sake I surrendered. But I -would choose to be a struggling surgeon in London any day, if it were -not for you, Sophy dear."</p> - -<p>"Horrid!" ejaculated Miss Marlow, elevating her nose. "How can you -enjoy cutting up people? But don't let us talk of these things; they -remind me of poor dear father."</p> - -<p>"My dear, you really should not be so morbid. Death is only natural. -It is not as though you had been with him all your life, instead of -merely three years."</p> - -<p>"I know; but I loved him none the less for that. I often wonder why he -was away so long."</p> - -<p>"He was making his fortune. He could not have taken you into the rough -life he was leading in Africa. You were quite happy in your convent."</p> - -<p>"Quite," she agreed, with conviction. "I was sorry to leave it. The -dear sisters were like mothers to me. I never knew my own mother. She -died in Jamaica, father said, when I was only ten years old. He could -not bear to remain in the West Indies after she died, so he brought me -to England. While I was in the convent I saw him only now and again -until I had finished my education. Then he took the Moat House--that -was five years ago, and two years after that I came to live with him. -That is all our history, Alan. But Joe Brill might know if he had any -enemies."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he might. He lived thirty years with your father, didn't he? But -he can keep his own counsel--no one better."</p> - -<p>"You are good at it too, Alan. Where were you last night? You did not -come to see me."</p> - -<p>He moved uneasily. He had his own reasons for not wishing to give a -direct answer.</p> - -<p>"I went for a long walk--to--to--to think out one or two things. When -I got back it was too late to see you."</p> - -<p>"What troubled you, Alan? You have looked very worried lately. I am -sure you are in some trouble. Tell me, dear; I must share all you -troubles."</p> - -<p>"My dearest, I am in no trouble"--he kissed her hand--"but I am your -trustee, you know and it is no sinecure to have the management of two -millions."</p> - -<p>"It's too much money," she said. "Let us dispose of some of it, then -you need not be worried. Can I do what I like with it?"</p> - -<p>"Most of it--there are certain legacies, will tell you about them -later."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid the estate will be troublesome to us, Alan. It's strange -we should have so much money when we don't care about it. Now, there -is Dr. Warrender, working his life out for that silly extravagant wife -of his!"</p> - -<p>"He is very much in love with her, nevertheless."</p> - -<p>"I suppose that's why he works so hard. But she's a horrid woman, and -cares not a snap of her fingers for him--not to speak of love! Love! -why, she doesn't know the meaning of the word. We do!" And, bending -over, Sophy kissed him.</p> - -<p>Then promptly there came from Miss Parsh the reminder that it was time -for tea.</p> - -<p>"Very well, Vicky, I dare say Alan would like you to give him a cup," -replied Sophy.</p> - -<p>"Frivolous as ever, Sophia! I give up a hope of forming your -character--now!"</p> - -<p>"Alan is doing that," replied the girl.</p> - -<p>In spite of her sorrow, Sophy became fairly cheerful on the way back -to the hotel. Not so Alan. He was silent and thoughtful, and evidently -meditating about the responsibilities of the Marlow estate. As they -walked along the parade with their chaperon close behind, they came -upon a crowd surrounding a fat man dressed in dingy black. He was -reciting a poem, and his voice boomed out like a great organ. As -they passed, Alan noticed that he darted a swift glance at them, -and eyed Miss Marlow in a particularly curious manner. The recitation -was just finished, and the hat was being sent round. Sophy, always -kind-hearted, dropped in a shilling. The man chuckled.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, lady," said he; "the first of many I hope."</p> - -<p>Alan frowned, and drew his <i>fiancée</i> away. He took little heed of the -remark at the time; but it occurred to him later, when circumstances -had arisen which laid more stress on its meaning.</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky presided over the tea--a gentle feminine employment in -which she excelled. She did most of the talking; for Sophy was silent, -and Alan inclined to monosyllables. The good lady announced that she -was anxious to return to Heathton.</p> - -<p>"The house weighs on my mind," said she, lifting her cup with the -little finger curved. "The servants are not to be trusted. I fear Mrs. -Crammer is addicted to ardent spirits. Thomas and Jane pay too much -attention to one another. I feel a conviction that, during my absence, -the bonds of authority will have loosened."</p> - -<p>"Joe," said Alan, setting down his cup; "Joe is a great -disciplinarian."</p> - -<p>"On board a ship, no doubt," assented Miss Vicky; "but a rough sailor -cannot possibly know how to control a household. Joseph is a fine, -manly fellow, but boisterous--very boisterous. It needs my eye to make -domestic matters go smoothly. When will you be ready to return, Sophy, -my dear?"</p> - -<p>"In a week--but Alan has suggested that we should go abroad."</p> - -<p>"What! and leave the servants to wilful waste and extravagance? My -love!"--Miss Vicky raised her two mittened hands--"think of the -bills!"</p> - -<p>"There is plenty of money, Vicky."</p> - -<p>"No need there should be plenty of waste. No; if we go abroad, we must -either shut up the house or let it."</p> - -<p>"To the Quiet Gentleman?" said Sophy, with a laugh.</p> - -<p>Alan looked up suddenly.</p> - -<p>"No, not to him. He is a mysterious person," said Miss Vicky. "I do -not like such people, though I dare say it is only village gossip -which credits him with a strange story."</p> - -<p>"Just so," put in Alan. "Don't trouble about him."</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky was still discussing the possibility of a trip abroad, when -the waiter entered with a note for Sophy.</p> - -<p>"It was delivered three hours ago," said the man apologetically, "and -I quite forgot to bring it up. So many visitors, miss," he added, with -a sickly smile.</p> - -<p>Sophy took the letter. The envelope was a thick creamy one, and the -writing of the address elegant in the extreme.</p> - -<p>"Who delivered it?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"A fat man, miss, with a red face, and dressed in black."</p> - -<p>Alan's expression grew somewhat anxious.</p> - -<p>"Surely that describes the man we saw reciting?"</p> - -<p>"So it does." Sophy eyed the letter dubiously. "Had he a loud voice, -Simmonds?"</p> - -<p>"As big as a bell, miss, and he spoke beautiful: but he wasn't gentry, -for all that," finished Simmonds with conviction.</p> - -<p>"You can go," said Alan. Then he turned to Sophy, who was opening the -envelope. "Let me read that letter first," he said.</p> - -<p>"Why, Alan? There is no need. It is only a begging letter. Come and -read it with me."</p> - -<p>He gave way, and looked over her shoulder the elaborate writing.</p> -<br> -<p style="text-indent:5%">"Miss" (it began),</p> - -<p style="text-indent:10%">"The undersigned, if handsomely remunerated, can give valuable -information regarding the removal of the body of the late Richard -Marlow from its dwelling in Heathton Churchyard. <i>Verbum dat -sapienti!</i> Forward £100 to the undersigned at Dixon's Rents, Lambeth, -and the information will be forthcoming. If the minions of the law are -invoked the undersigned with vanish, and his information lost.</p> - -<p>"Faithfully yours, Miss Sophia Marlow,</p> -<p style="text-indent:40%">"<span class="sc">Cicero Gramp</span>."</p> -<br> - -<p>As she comprehended the meaning of this extraordinary letter, Sophy -became paler and paler. The intelligence that her father's body had -been stolen was too much for her, and she fainted.</p> - -<p>Thorold called loudly to Miss Vicky.</p> - -<p>"Look after her," he said, stuffing the letter into his pocket. "I -shall be back soon."</p> - -<p>"But what--what----" began Miss Vicky.</p> - -<p>She spoke to thin air. Alan was running at top speed along the parade -in search of the fat man.</p> - -<p>But all search was vain. Cicero, the astute, had vanished.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04">CHAPTER IV.</a></h4> -<h5>ANOTHER SURPRISE</h5> -<br> - -<p>Heathton was only an hour's run by rail from Bournemouth, so that it -was easy enough to get back on the same evening. On his return from -his futile search for Cicero, Alan determined to go at once to the -Moat House. He found Sophy recovered from her faint, and on hearing of -his decision, she insisted upon accompanying him. She had told Miss -Vicky the contents of the mysterious letter, and that lady agreed that -they should leave as soon as their boxes could be packed.</p> - -<p>"Don't talk to me, Alan!" cried Sophy, when her lover objected to this -sudden move. "It would drive me mad to stay here doing nothing, with -that on my mind."</p> - -<p>"But, my dear girl, it may not be true."</p> - -<p>"If it is not, why should that man have written? Did you see him?"</p> - -<p>"No. He has left the parade, and no one seems to know anything about -him. It is quite likely that when he saw us returning to the hotel he -cleared out. By this time I dare say he is on his way to London."</p> - -<p>"Did you see the police?" she asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>"No," said Alan, taking out the letter which had caused all this -trouble; "it would not be wise. Remember what he says here: If the -police are called in he will vanish, and we shall lose the information -he seems willing to supply."</p> - -<p>"I don't think that, Mr. Thorold," said Miss Vicky. "This man -evidently wants money, and is willing to tell the truth for the matter -of a hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>"On account," remarked Thorold grimly; "as plain a case of blackmail -as I ever heard of. Well, I suppose it is best to wait until we can -communicate with this--what does he call himself?--Cicero Gramp, at -Dixon's Rents, Lambeth. He can be arrested there, if necessary. What I -want to do now is to find out if his story is true. To do this I must -go at once to Heathton, see the Rector, and get the coffin opened."</p> - -<p>"I will come," insisted Sophy. "Oh, it is terrible to think that poor -father was not allowed to rest quietly even in his grave."</p> - -<p>"Of course, it may not be true," urged Alan again. "I don't see how -this tramp could have got to know of it."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he helped to violate the secrets of the tomb?" suggested Miss -Vicky.</p> - -<p>"In that case he would hardly put himself within reach of the law," -Alan said, after a pause. "Besides, if the vault had been broken into -we should have heard of it from Joe."</p> - -<p>"Why should it be broken into, Alan? The key----"</p> - -<p>"I have one key, and the Rector has the other. My key is in my desk at -the Abbey Farm, and no doubt Phelps has his safe enough."</p> - -<p>"Your key may have been stolen."</p> - -<p>"It might have been," admitted Alan. "That is one reason why I am so -anxious to get back to-night. We must find out also if the coffin is -empty."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes; let us go at once!" Sophy cried feverishly. "I shall never -rest until I learn the truth. Come, Vicky, let us pack. When can we -leave, Alan?"</p> - -<p>Thorold glanced at his watch.</p> - -<p>"In half an hour," he said. "We can catch the half-past six train. Can -you be ready?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes!" cried she, and rushed out of the room.</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky was about to follow, but Alan detained her.</p> - -<p>"Give her a sedative or something," he said, "or she will be ill."</p> - -<p>"I will at once. Have a carriage at the door in a quarter of an hour, -Mr. Thorold. We can be ready by then. I suppose it is best she should -go?"</p> - -<p>"Much better than to leave her here. We must set her mind at rest. At -this rate she will work herself into a fever."</p> - -<p>"But if this story should really be true?"</p> - -<p>"I don't believe it for a moment," replied Alan. But he was evidently -uneasy, and could not disguise the feeling. "Wait till we get to -Heathton--wait," and he hastily left the room.</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky was surprised at his agitation, for hitherto she had -credited Alan with a will strong enough to conceal his emotions. The -old lady hurried away to the packing, and shook her head as she went.</p> - -<p>Shortly they were settled in a first-class carriage on the way to -Heathton. Sophy was suffering acutely, but did all in her power to -hide her feelings, and, contrary to Alan's expectations, hardly a word -was spoken about the strange letter, and the greater part of the -journey was passed in silence. At Heathton he put Sophy and Miss Vicky -into a fly.</p> - -<p>"Drive at once to the Moat House," he said. "To-morrow we shall -consider what is to be done."</p> - -<p>"And you, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"I am going to see Mr. Phelps. He, if any one, will know what value to -put upon that letter. Try and sleep, Sophy. I shall see you in the -morning."</p> - -<p>"Sleep?" echoed the poor girl, in a tone of anguish. "I feel as though -I should never sleep again!"</p> - -<p>When they had driven away, Alan took the nearest way to the -Rectory. It was some way from the station, but Alan was a vigorous -walker, and soon covered the distance. He arrived at the door with a -beating heart and dry lips, feeling, he knew not why, that he was -about to hear bad news. The gray-haired butler ushered him into his -master's presence, and immediately the young man felt that his fears -were confirmed. Phelps looked worried.</p> - -<p>He was a plump little man, neat in his dress and cheerful in manner. -He was a bachelor, and somewhat of a cynic. Alan had known him all his -life, and could have found no better adviser in the dilemma in which -he now found himself. Phelps came forward with outstretched hands.</p> - -<p>"My dear boy, I am indeed glad! What good fairy sent you here? A glass -of port? You look pale. I am delighted to see you. If you had not come -I should have had to send for you."</p> - -<p>"What do you wish to see me about, sir? asked Alan.</p> - -<p>"About the disappearance of these two people."</p> - -<p>"What two people?" asked the young man, suddenly alert. "You forget -that I have been away from Heathton for the last three days."</p> - -<p>"Of course, of course. Well, one is Brown, the stranger who stayed -with Mrs. Marry."</p> - -<p>"The Quiet Gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I heard them call him so in the village. A very doubtful -character. He never came to church," said the Rector sadly. "However, -it seems he has disappeared. Two nights ago--in fact, upon the evening -of the day upon which poor Marlow's funeral took place, he left his -lodgings for a walk. Since then," added the Rector impressively, "he -has not returned."</p> - -<p>"In plain words, he has taken French leave," said Thorold, filling his -glass.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I should not say that, Alan. He paid his weekly account the day -before he vanished. He left his baggage behind him. No, I don't think -he intended to run away. Mrs. Marry says he was a good lodger, -although she knew very little about him. However, he has gone, and his -box remains. No one saw him after he left the village about eight -o'clock. He was last seen by Giles Hale passing the church in the -direction of the moor. To-day we searched the moor, but could find no -trace of him. Most mysterious," finished the Rector, and took some -port.</p> - -<p>"Who is the other man?" asked Alan abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Ah! Now you must be prepared for a shock, Alan. Dr. Warrender!"</p> - -<p>Thorold bounded out of his seat.</p> - -<p>"Is he lost too?"</p> - -<p>"Strangely enough, he is," answered Phelps gravely. "On the night of -the funeral he went out at nine o'clock in the evening to see a -patient. He never came back."</p> - -<p>"Who was the patient?"</p> - -<p>"That is the strangest part of it. Brown, the Quiet Gentleman, was the -patient. Mrs. Warrender, who, as you may guess, is quite distracted, -says that her husband told her so. Mrs. Marry declares that the doctor -called after nine, and found Brown was absent."</p> - -<p>"What happened then?" demanded Alan, who had been listening eagerly to -this tale.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Warrender, according to Mrs. Marry, asked in what direction her -lodger had gone. She could not tell him, so, saying he would call -again in an hour or so, he went. And, of course, he never returned."</p> - -<p>"Did Brown send for him?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Marry could not say. Certainly no message was sent through her."</p> - -<p>"Was Brown ill?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all, according to his landlady. We have been searching for -both Brown and Warrender, but have found no traces of either."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said Thorold, after a pause. "I wonder if they met and went -away together?"</p> - -<p>"My dear lad, where would they go to?" objected the Rector.</p> - -<p>"I don't know; I can't say. The whole business is most mysterious." -Alan stopped, and looked sharply at Mr. Phelps. "Have you the key of -the Marlow vault in your possession?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course, locked in my safe. Your question is most -extraordinary."</p> - -<p>The other smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>"My explanation is more extraordinary still." He took out Mr. Gramp's -letter and handed it to the Rector. "What do you think of that, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Most elegant caligraphy," said the good man. "Why, bless me!" He read -on hurriedly, and finally dropped the letter with a bewildered air. -"Bless me, Alan!" he stammered. "What--what--what----"</p> - -<p>Thorold picked it up and smoothed it out on the table.</p> - -<p>"You see, this man says the body has been stolen. Do you know if the -door of the vault has been broken open?"</p> - -<p>"No, no, certainly not!" cried the Rector, rising fussily. "Come to my -study, Alan; we must see if it is all right. It must be," he added -emphatically. "The key of the safe is on my watch-chain. No one can -open it. Oh dear! Bless me!"</p> - -<p>He bustled out of the room, followed by Alan.</p> - -<p>A search into the interior of the safe resulted in the production of -the key.</p> - -<p>"You see," cried Phelps, waving it triumphantly, "it is safe. The door -could not have been opened with this. Now your key."</p> - -<p>"My key is in my desk at the Abbey Farm--locked up also," said the -young man hastily. "I'll see about it to-night. In the meantime, sir, -bring that key with you, and we will go into the vault."</p> - -<p>"What for?" demanded the Rector sharply. "Why should we go there?"</p> - -<p>"Can't you understand?" said Alan impatiently. "I want to find out if -this letter is true or false--if the body of Mr. Marlow has been -removed."</p> - -<p>"But I--I--can't!" gasped the Rector. "I must apply to the bishop -for----"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense, sir! We are not going to exhume the body. It's not like -digging up a grave. All that is necessary is to look at the coffin -resting in its niche. We can tell from the screws and general -appearance if it has been tampered with."</p> - -<p>The clergyman sat down and wiped his bald head.</p> - -<p>"I don't like it," he said. "I don't like it at all. Still, I don't -suppose a look at the coffin can harm any one. We'll go, Alan, we'll -go; but I must take Jarks."</p> - -<p>"The sexton?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I want a witness--two witnesses; you are one, Jarks the other. -It is a gruesome task that we have before us." He shuddered again. "I -don't like it. Profanation!"</p> - -<p>"If this letter is to be believed, the profanation has already been -committed."</p> - -<p>"Cicero Gramp," repeated Mr. Phelps as they went out. "Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"A fat man--a tramp--a reciter. I saw him at Bournemouth. He delivered -that letter at the hotel himself; the waiter described him, and as the -creature is a perfect Falstaff, I recalled his face--I had seen him on -the parade. I went at once to see if I could find him, but he was -gone."</p> - -<p>"A fat man," said the Rector. "Humph! He was at the Good Samaritan the -other night. I'll tell you about him later."</p> - -<p>The two trudged along in silence and knocked up Jarks, the sexton, on -the way. They had no difficulty in rousing him. He came down at once -with a lantern, and was much surprised to learn the errand of Rector -and squire.</p> - -<p>"Want to have a look at Muster Marlow's vault," said he in creaking -tones. "Well, it ain't a bad night for a visit, I do say. But quiet -comp'ny, Muster Phelps and Muster Thorold, very quiet. What do ye want -to see Muster Marlow for?"</p> - -<p>"We want to see if his body is in the vault," said Alan.</p> - -<p>"Why, for sure it's there, sir. Muster Marlow don't go visiting."</p> - -<p>"I had a letter at Bournemouth, Jarks, to say the body had been -stolen."</p> - -<p>Jarks stared.</p> - -<p>"It ain't true!" he cried in a voice cracked with passion. "It's -casting mud on my 'arning my bread. I've bin sexton here fifty year, -man and boy--I never had no corp as was stolen. They all lies -comfortable arter my tucking them in. Only Gabriel's trump will wake -'em."</p> - -<p>By this time they were round the Lady Chapel, and within sight of the -tomb. Phelps, too much agitated to speak, beckoned to Jarks to hold up -the lantern, which he did, gram bling and muttering the while.</p> - -<p>"I've buried hundreds of corps," he growled, "and not one of 'em's -goed away. What 'ud they go for? I make 'em comfortable, I do."</p> - -<p>"Hold the light steady, Jarks," said the Rector, whose own hand was -just as unsteady. He could hardly get the key into the lock.</p> - -<p>At last the door was open, and headed by Jarks with the lantern, they -entered. The cold, earthy smell, the charnel-house feeling shook the -nerves of both men. Jarks, accustomed as he was to the presence of the -dead, hobbled along without showing any emotion other than wrath, and -triumphantly swung the lantern towards a niche wherein reposed a -coffin.</p> - -<p>"Ain't he there quite comfortable?" wheezed he. "Don't I tell you they -never goes from here! It's a lovely vault; no corp 'ud need a finer."</p> - -<p>"Wait a bit!" said Alan, stepping forward. "Turn the light along the -top of the coffin, Jarks. Hullo! the lid's loose!"</p> - -<p>"An' unscrewed!" gasped the sexton. "He's bin getting out."</p> - -<p>"Unscrewed--loose!" gasped the Rector in his turn. The poor man felt -deadly sick. "There must be some mistake."</p> - -<p>"No mistake," said Alan, slipping back the lid. "The body has been -stolen."</p> - -<p>"No 't'ain't!" cried Jarks, showering the light on the interior of the -coffin. "There he is, quiet an'--why," the old man broke off with a -cry, "the corp ain't in his winding-sheet!"</p> - -<p>Phelps looked, Alan looked. The light shone on the face of the dead.</p> - -<p>Phelps groaned.</p> - -<p>"Merciful God!" he groaned, "it is Dr. Warrender's body!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_05" href="#div1Ref_05">CHAPTER V.</a></h4> -<h5>A NINE DAYS' WONDER</h5> -<br> - -<p>There was sensation enough and to spare in Heathton next morning. -Jarks lost no time in spreading the news. He spent the greater part of -the day in the taproom of the Good Samaritan, accepting tankards of -beer and relating details of the discovery. Mrs. Timber kept him as -long as she could; for Jarks, possessed of intelligence regarding the -loss of Mr. Marlow's body, attracted customers. These, thirsty for -news or drink, or both, flocked like sheep into the inn.</p> - -<p>"To think that a corp of mine should be gone!" creaked he in his aged -voice. "Man and boy, I niver heard tell of such things--niver! Why -Muster Marlow should go beats me--ay, that it does!"</p> - -<p>"It doesn't beat me," cried Mrs. Timber in her most acidulated voice. -"I know who took the body."</p> - -<p>"That you don't!" contradicted Jarks incoherently; "fur passon, he -don't know, so I don't know as how you'd know, Mrs. Timber."</p> - -<p>"It was that fat play-actor out of this very house," snapped the -landlady.</p> - -<p>"And how can you prove that, Mrs. Timber?" asked the sexton -contemptuously.</p> - -<p>"Why, he had no money for a bed, and he had to sleep in the open. I -dare say he slept in the churchyard, and stole the body to sell it -back again, it being well known as Miss Sophy's a Queen of Sheba for -riches."</p> - -<p>"All very well," said Slack the schoolmaster; "but if he took away Mr. -Marlow's body, how did he put Dr. Warrender's in its place? And how -could he without the key of the vault?"</p> - -<p>"No," said the stonemason, "he couldn't get into that there vault -without a key. I built him myself, me and my mates. If that fat man -put the doctor there, he must have killed him. There's a hole in his -heart as you could put your fist in. It's murder!" cried the man, -dashing his hand on the table, "sacrilege and murder!"</p> - -<p>It took a good many tankards of Mrs. Timber's strong ale to wash down -the sinister word "murder." Every point of the matter was discussed, -but no one could arrive at any decision. Slack voiced the general -sentiment when he rose to go.</p> - -<p>"We must wait for the police," said Slack.</p> - -<p>But Alan Thorold was of the contrary opinion. He did not wish to wait -for the police, or to have anything to do with the police. The -difficulty was that he could not get the Rector to take this view, and -the next morning Mr. Phelps sent the village constable for the -inspector at Burchester, the big market town twenty miles away across -the heath. Meantime, at an early hour, Alan presented himself at the -Moat House. He broke the news as gently as he could. Both Sophy and -Miss Vicky were horrified.</p> - -<p>"To think of such things taking place in a Christian graveyard!" cried -the little woman, wringing her hands. "Sacrilege and murder! It makes -one believe in the existence of atheists and anarchists, and such-like -dreadful people--it does, indeed!"</p> - -<p>Contrary to Thorold's expectation, Sophy proved to be the more -composed of the two. She neither wept nor fainted, but, very pale and -very still, listened to all that he had to say. When he had finished, -she had only one question to ask.</p> - -<p>"Who did it?" she demanded in the calmest voice.</p> - -<p>"I can't say--I don't know," stammered Alan, taken aback by her -attitude generally. "We must find out. If your father had enemies--but -even an enemy would have had no object in doing this."</p> - -<p>"What about the man in Bournemouth?"</p> - -<p>"Cicero Gramp? I intend to go up to London to-morrow and see him. If -he can tell the truth, it will be well worth the money he demands."</p> - -<p>"So I think, Alan. Can't you go to-day?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>"There is so much to do here, Sophy. The Rector has gone to break the -news of her husband's death to Mrs. Warrender. And he has sent over to -Burchester for the police. The inspector--Blair is his name--will be -here at noon. I did not want the police brought into the matter, but -Mr. Phelps insisted."</p> - -<p>"Why did you not want to consult the police?"</p> - -<p>"I am afraid if this vagabond gets wind that the law has intervened he -may give us the slip. However, I shall go up to Dixon's Rents first -thing in the morning, before the case gets into the papers."</p> - -<p>"Do you think this man Gramp has anything to do with the murder, and -with the removing of poor father's body?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't," replied Alan promptly. "He would not dare to give -evidence if he were. I hear that he was turned out of the Good -Samaritan on the night of the funeral. It is likely enough that he saw -the removal of the body, and possibly the murder. Naturally, such a -creature as that wants to sell his information. He is a blackmailer, -this man, but I don't credit him with murder or bodysnatching."</p> - -<p>"Body-snatching!" cried Miss Vicky, who was dabbing her red eyes with -eau-de-Cologne. "Oh, the terrible word!"</p> - -<p>"Alan," said Sophy, after a pause, "do you believe the man who took my -father's body killed Dr. Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"I do. Warrender was out on that night, and might have come across the -man carrying away the body, and the murder might have arisen out of -that."</p> - -<p>"How do you know Dr. Warrender was out?" cross-examined Sophy.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Warrender told the Rector so. Warrender went to see the Quiet -Gentleman, but not finding him in, said that he would return. He never -did, and now we know the reason."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you make certain whether he saw the Quiet Gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Brown? That's impossible; he also has disappeared."</p> - -<p>"Who was he?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Alan gloomily.</p> - -<p>"Does any one know?"</p> - -<p>"Not to my knowledge. Perhaps the police may find out. Sophy, what is -the matter?"</p> - -<p>For the girl was clapping her hands and laughing hysterically.</p> - -<p>"It was Brown who took my father's body and killed the doctor!" she -cried. "I am certain of it!"</p> - -<p>"Why are you certain?"</p> - -<p>"I feel it. I can't say why."</p> - -<p>"But your father did not know this man. I never heard him allude to -the Quiet Gentleman."</p> - -<p>"I dare say not," returned Sophy doggedly; "but if the man had nothing -to do with it, why should he disappear? And Dr. Warrender went to see -him. Oh! I am sure he is the guilty person. He might be an enemy of -father's."</p> - -<p>"Sophia, your father did not know him," put in Miss Vicky, who was -listening open-mouthed to all this.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am not so sure of that!" cried the girl impatiently. "If he -did, Joe will know. Ring the bell for him."</p> - -<p>"Did Joe know the Quiet Gentleman?" Alan asked when he had rung.</p> - -<p>"I do not think that Joseph did," said Miss Vicky. "He told me that he -tried several times to speak to him, but got no reply."</p> - -<p>"I don't wonder at that," replied the young man dryly; "the man was -dumb."</p> - -<p>"Dumb!" echoed the ladies.</p> - -<p>"Didn't you know? Ah, well, perhaps not. I didn't know myself until -the Rector told me last night. Yes, he was dumb--that was why the -village called him the Quiet Gentleman. Oh, here is Joe!"</p> - -<p>"Joe," said Sophy, going directly to the point, "have you heard -about----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, miss," said Joe, interrupting to save her mentioning so painful -a subject, "I know, and if I find the swab as did it, I'll kill him."</p> - -<p>Joe said this in a quietly savage way, which made Miss Vicky shudder.</p> - -<p>"Have you any idea who carried off the body, Joe?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, I have not--but," added the man grimly, "I'm going to look -for him."</p> - -<p>The old maid shuddered again at the expression in his bloodshot eyes.</p> - -<p>"'Vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith the Lord,'" she put in -severely.</p> - -<p>"All werry good," said Mr. Brill, "but I guess the Lord needs an -instrument to carry out that text." He spat on his hands and added -slowly, "I'm that instrument!"</p> - -<p>"Had my father any enemies that you know of, Joe?"</p> - -<p>"No, miss, not that I knowed of. He had rows, as a man should, had the -Cap'n, but I don't know any swab as 'ud have stolen his corpse."</p> - -<p>"And murdered Dr. Warrender," said Alan, who was watching the man.</p> - -<p>"As you say, sir," replied the sailor calmly, "and murdered Dr. -Warrender. No, I can't rightly call any one to mind."</p> - -<p>"Did you know the Quiet Gentleman, Joe?"</p> - -<p>"I did not, miss. Brown he called hisself--leastways, Mrs. Marry told -me so, for Brown had no tongue. I tried to pass the time o' day, -meeting him friendly like on the road, but he only put his hand to his -mouth and shook his white head. I don't know nothing about him."</p> - -<p>"Do you know a tramp named Cicero Gramp?" asked Alan, after a pause.</p> - -<p>"Well, I did in a way." Joe drew his huge hand across his mouth, and -seemed to be considering his reply. "In this way, sir. He comed here -to the kitchen and put 'em all wrong with his lies. I kicked him -out--leastways, I giv 'im something to take 'imself orf."</p> - -<p>"What did he come here for?"</p> - -<p>Joe clenched his teeth and frowned dreadfully.</p> - -<p>"I wish I knowed, I'd ha' broken his cocoanut!" said he. "He was a -liar, miss, savin' your presence. Said 'e knowed your father, the -Cap'n, which," said Joe slowly, "was a d----d lie--beggin' your -pardon, miss."</p> - -<p>"Said he knew my father?" echoed Sophy anxiously. "What did he know -about him?"</p> - -<p>"Nothin'," replied Joe firmly. "Make your mind easy, miss--nothin'."</p> - -<p>It seemed to Alan as though the old sailor wished to intimate that -there really was something in Marlow's past which might be known, but -that the tramp was ignorant of it. He evidently wanted to reassure the -girl, yet Alan was well aware that Sophy knew practically nothing of -her father's life. He resolved to try the effect of a surprise.</p> - -<p>"Joe," said he slowly, "it was this tramp who told me the body had -been stolen."</p> - -<p>Joe's hard, shiny hat, which he had been twisting nervously in his -hands, fell to the ground. His face was a dark crimson when he stooped -to pick it up, and he stammered:</p> - -<p>"Hi, sir! that--that lubber. How did he know?"</p> - -<p>"That I have to find out. He offers to sell the information for a -hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>Joe rubbed his hands and looked ferocious.</p> - -<p>"What I want to know, sir, is, where is the swab?"</p> - -<p>"In London. I'm going up to see him to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"This afternoon," put in Sophy sharply. "You are going this afternoon, -Alan."</p> - -<p>"Certainly, my dear," Alan said promptly; "I'll go this afternoon--if -the police don't want me."</p> - -<p>"The police!" gasped Joe, shifting nervously from one leg to the -other.</p> - -<p>"Yes." Alan darted a keen glance at him. "Mr. Phelps has sent for the -police to investigate this murder of Dr. Warrender."</p> - -<p>"Well, I hope they'll find him, sir," said Joe, recovering his -stolidity, "for I make no doubt that the swab as killed the doctor -carried off the Cap'n's body."</p> - -<p>"So I think, Joe, and I am going to London to find out from Cicero -Gramp."</p> - -<p>"You'll find he'll tell you that the Quiet Gentleman killed Dr. -Warrender," put in Sophy.</p> - -<p>The old sailor choked, and looked at her with absolute terror.</p> - -<p>"How do you know that, miss?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I only think so. The Quiet Gentleman has disappeared. Probably he -killed the doctor, and then took my father's body."</p> - -<p>"It might be so, miss. If I find him----"</p> - -<p>Joe repeated his former savage declaration, and Miss Vicky duly -shuddered.</p> - -<p>"Then you can't help us in any way, Joe?" said Alan, eying him -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>"No, sir, I can't. I don't know who carried off the Cap'n, and I don't -know who stabbed the doctor. If I did, I'd kill him. When you find -him, sir, let me know."</p> - -<p>After which speech the old sailor again pulled his forelock, scraped -his foot, and rolled out of the room. He appeared somewhat relieved to -get away.</p> - -<p>Alan did not quite know what to make of Joe. The man was so nervous -that it seemed as though he knew something and was afraid of -committing himself. On the other hand, this sailor was devoted to -Sophy, and had been in Marlow's service for thirty years. It was only -reasonable to conclude, therefore, that he would wish her to benefit -by any knowledge he might possess. On the whole, Alan was perplexed, -but he kept it to himself, determining, nevertheless, to keep an eye -on Joe. When the door was closed, Sophy turned to Alan.</p> - -<p>"Alan," she said slowly, "I love you dearly, as you know, and I wish -to become your wife. But I swear by the memory of my father that until -you find out who has done this wicked thing and bring the man to -justice, I will not marry you!"</p> - -<p>"Sophy!" cried Thorold entreatingly.</p> - -<p>"I mean what I say," repeated the girl, in a low, fierce voice. "We -must avenge my father. When the wretch is caught and hanged, then I'll -marry you, Alan."</p> - -<p>"Sophia, a marriage under such circumstances----"</p> - -<p>"Miss Parsh," cried Sophy, turning on the meek old maid, "do you think -I can sit down tamely under this insult to the dead? My father's body -has been carried off. It must be found again before I marry--before I -can think of marriage, Alan."</p> - -<p>"Sophy is right," cried Thorold, drawing the girl to him and kissing -her. "She is right, Miss Parsh. I swear also that I will devote my -life to solving this mystery. Your father's body shall be brought -back, Sophy, and the murderer of Dr. Warrender shall hang. Good-bye, -dear. To-day I go to London. The first step towards the discovery of -this crime will be to see Cicero Gramp. He may supply the clue."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes. Bribe him; pay him anything, so long as you get at the -truth."</p> - -<p>Alan kissed the girl again, and then left the room. Before he started, -he intended to see the Rector and the local inspector of police. As he -stepped out on to the road, he noticed Phelps coming along in the hot -sunshine. The little parson was puffing and blowing and wiping his -forehead.</p> - -<p>"Alan! Alan!" he called out in short gasps as he came within speaking -distance. "She's gone! She's gone to----"</p> - -<p>"She! Gone! Who's gone? Where?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Mrs. Warrender! She's disappeared. Oh, dear me; how terrible all -this is! Whew!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_06" href="#div1Ref_06">CHAPTER VI.</a></h4> -<h5>THE MISSING KEY.</h5> -<br> - -<p>So excited was the little parson that Alan feared lest he should take -a fit. The Good Samaritan was no great distance away, so thither he -led him, into Mrs. Timber's private parlor.</p> - -<p>"Now, sir," said Alan, when his old tutor seemed somewhat more -composed, "tell me all about Mrs. Warrender."</p> - -<p>But before Mr. Phelps could reply, the vixenish landlady made her -appearance. She was highly honored at seeing the Rector within her -doors, and curtsied a hint for orders. And, in truth, the little -clergyman, undone with excitement, was quite ready to stimulate his -jaded nerves.</p> - -<p>"Eh, Mrs. Timber?" he said. "Yes; you might get us a little Cognac, I -think. Old; the best you have, Mrs. Timber, and a jug of fresh-drawn -water from the well, please. Alan?"</p> - -<p>"I'll join you," said young Thorold promptly.</p> - -<p>He, too, felt that he was in nowise beyond reach of a little -stimulant.</p> - -<p>Silent for once in her life, Mrs. Timber brought of her best, which, -be it said, was passing good. Mr. Phelps lost no time in brewing his -measure and drank it down with gusto.</p> - -<p>"That's good, Alan, my boy; very good," said he, setting down the -tumbler with a sigh of relief. "God forgive me, I fear to think -what my good brethren would say did they see their Rector in a -public-house! though to be sure the Good Samaritan is a most -respectable hostelry. But, Alan, why did you bring me here?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, sir, I feared you would be ill out there in the blazing sun. -I did only what I thought wise. But about Mrs. Warrender--you say she -has disappeared?"</p> - -<p>"Eh, yes." Mr. Phelps wiped his bald head vigorously. "I went to break -the news to her after you had gone to see Sophy, and I found she had -left for London."</p> - -<p>"London? Why London?"</p> - -<p>"That is just what I wanted to know, my dear Alan. It seems she -received last night a letter which threw her into a state of great -excitement. She was bad enough that way, as it was, the servant said; -but this letter, it appears, drove her into a perfect frenzy."</p> - -<p>"Do you know what was in the letter?"</p> - -<p>"I asked that--oh, trust me, Alan, to be precise about details--but -the servant said she did not know. Mrs. Warrender put it in her -pocket. That spoke volumes from the servant's point of view. All night -long, it appears, she was walking about the room using the most -fearful language--God forgive her!--and this morning at eight o'clock -she started off to catch the 9.30 express at the Junction."</p> - -<p>"And is she coming back?"</p> - -<p>"That I don't know, my boy."</p> - -<p>Mr. Phelps looked round cautiously and lowered his voice to a whisper.</p> - -<p>"She took her jewels with her."</p> - -<p>"Her jewels?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; she had a quantity of jewelry. She put all the money she could -get from her husband into clothes and diamonds--a most extravagant -woman, Alan. Well, she's gone, that's certain, jewels and all. She -left no address, and said no word about returning. What do you think -of it?"</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, sir, I don't know what to think. The whole place has -gone mad, it seems to me; the entire village is topsy-turvy. Marlow's -body stolen, Warrender murdered, and his body placed in poor Marlow's -coffin; and now here is Mrs. Warrender cleared out significantly with -her jewels; and the Quiet Gentleman----"</p> - -<p>"Brown, the dumb man? What about him? I know he, too, has vanished; -but what else?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to tell you, sir. The key of the vault----"</p> - -<p>"Not your key, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my key, Mr. Phelps; the Quiet Gentleman has it!"</p> - -<p>"God bless me--that is, God forgive me, Alan, are you mad too?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, not yet; though I admit I'm fairly on the way, with all -this. Tell me, do you know who this so-called Quiet Gentleman really -is?"</p> - -<p>"No, Alan, I don't. I spoke to him, but found he was dumb. Now he too -is gone."</p> - -<p>"Yes, with Marlow's body on his hands, and Warrender's death on his -soul!"</p> - -<p>"You don't mean that! Are you sure?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Phelps was greatly agitated.</p> - -<p>"I go only by circumstantial evidence, it is true. You know, of -course, the funeral of Mr. Marlow took place in the morning?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes; and at two o'clock you took Sophy and Miss Parsh to -Bournemouth."</p> - -<p>"I did. Well, about five o'clock, Brown--we'll call him that instead -of the Quiet Gentleman, though I don't believe it really is his -name--well, about that time Brown walked over to Abbey Farm. He -brought a letter purporting to come from me to my housekeeper, Mrs. -Hester."</p> - -<p>"From you, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the letter was forged," said Alan with emphasis. "It directed -Mrs. Hester to allow Brown to remain at the farm until I returned. It -was in my handwriting, and signed with my name. She knew nothing about -Brown, save that he was staying at Mrs. Marry's, and she thought it -somewhat strange he should come to stop at the farm during my absence. -But as the instructions in the letter were quite plain, and she knew -my handwriting well--that shows how expert the forgery was--she gave -Brown the run of the place. In the meantime she wrote to me at -Bournemouth asking me if all was right, and inclosed the forged -letter. Here it is!"</p> - -<p>As he saw the handwriting, Mr. Phelps started.</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, Alan, I don't wonder Mrs. Hester was deceived, -especially when you consider her sight is not good! Why, I myself -with my eyes should certainly take it for yours." (Mr. Phelps wore -pince-nez, but nevertheless resented any aspersion on his optical -powers.) "But why on earth didn't she telegraph to you?"</p> - -<p>"Well, you know how old-fashioned and conservative she is, sir. She -makes out through the Scriptures--how, I cannot tell you--that the -telegraph is a sinful institution. Therefore it is not to be wondered -at that she trusted to the post. I got her letter only this morn as, -of course, it followed me on from Bournemouth. Nevertheless, I knew -about the loss of the key last night."</p> - -<p>"Ah! the loss of the key. Yes, go Alan."</p> - -<p>"Very well. Brown, being allowed to remain in my house, proceeded to -make him quite at home in the library. Mrs. Hester writing her -letter--no easy task for her--took no further heed of him. He was in -the room for quite an hour, and amused himself, appears, in breaking -open my desk. Having forced several of the drawers, he found at last -the one he wanted--the one containing the key of the vault. Then he -made all things beautifully smooth, so that Mrs. Hester should not see -they had been tampered with, and leaving a message that he would -return to dinner, went out ostensibly for a walk. He returned, -appears, to his lodging, and left there again about nine o'clock in -the evening. Since then nothing has been seen or heard of him."</p> - -<p>"God bless me, Alan! are you sure he has the key?"</p> - -<p>"Positive. I looked in my desk last night and it was not there. But -everything was done so nicely that I am strongly of the opinion that -Mr. Brown has served his apprenticeship as a cracksman, and that under -a pretty good master too. No one but he could have stolen that key. -Besides, the forged letter shows plainly that he came to the farm with -no honest intentions. But what I can't understand," continued Alan, -biting his mustache, "is how the man came to know where the key was."</p> - -<p>"Extraordinary--yes, that is extraordinary. Undoubtedly he it was who -stole the body and gained access to the vault with your key. But the -murder of Dr. Warrender----"</p> - -<p>"He committed that too; I am convinced of it. Warrender called to see -him, found he was out, and I have no doubt followed him. He probably -saw Brown remove the body, and of course interfered, upon which the -villain made short work of him. That is my theory, sir."</p> - -<p>"And a very sound one, too, in many respects," said the Rector. "But -Brown could not have removed the body alone. He must have had an -accomplice."</p> - -<p>"True; and it is for that very reason I am going to town this -afternoon. Cicero Gramp may be able to supply some information on that -point. It is quite possible he slept in the churchyard and saw the -whole business--murder and all."</p> - -<p>"Alan! Alan!" cried Mr. Phelps, horrified. "Do you believe this murder -was committed on the sacred soil of the churchyard, in God's own acre, -Alan? No one, surely, could be so vile!"</p> - -<p>"I do, sir; and at the door of the vault. Brown, as you say yourself, -cleverly concealed the body in Marlow's coffin. He had no time to -screw it down again, apparently. He must have had a pretty tough job -to cut through that lead. He had to trust to chance, of course, that -the vault would not be visited until he had got a safe distance away -with his booty. And, indeed, but for Gramp's letter, no one would ever -have thought of going there. In fact, this Brown is a most ingenious -and dangerous criminal."</p> - -<p>"He is; indeed he is. But what could he possibly want the body for?"</p> - -<p>"Ha! that's just it! I fancy this is a case of blackmail. If you -remember, a millionaire's body was stolen in America some few years -ago, and only restored to the family on payment by them of a very -large sum of money."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that is what you think he is after?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I do. It is highly probable, I think, that in a few weeks, or -perhaps even in less time, we shall receive a letter demanding some -thousands for the return of the body."</p> - -<p>"But surely the police----"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Brown will look after all that. You may depend upon it he'll -make himself quite safe before he goes that far. So talented a -gentleman as he would not be likely to omit all necessary precautions -of that kind."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" muttered Mr. Phelps, considering, "and of Mrs. Warrender's -suspicious flight, what think you?"</p> - -<p>"I confess I don't know quite what to make of that. I have no great -opinion of her as a woman; still, I should hardly credit her with -being in league with this ruffian."</p> - -<p>"No, indeed; for that, she must needs be the worst of women," said Mr. -Phelps with warmth. "Why, Alan, poor Warrender was simply crazy about -her. He worked day and night to provide her with the finery she craved -for. Besides, she seemed really fond of him."</p> - -<p>"Who was she?" asked Alan bluntly.</p> - -<p>"Well, I shouldn't like to say it to every one, Alan, but Mrs. -Warrender had been an actress."</p> - -<p>"An actress! Under what name?"</p> - -<p>"That I cannot tell you. I called there one day and I heard her -reciting Shakespeare. Her elocution seemed to me so fine that I -complimented her upon it. Then she told me that she had been on the -stage, and had retired when she married Warrender."</p> - -<p>"That's very strange! I always thought she had somewhat of a -professional manner about her."</p> - -<p>"And her hair, Alan! <i>Flava coma</i>--yellow hair; not that I mean, for -one moment, she was what the Romans referred to by these words. Well, -my boy, what is to be done now?"</p> - -<p>"I am going up to London in an hour's time."</p> - -<p>Alan glanced at his watch while speaking.</p> - -<p>"But you'll miss seeing Blair, the inspector," remonstrated Mr. -Phelps.</p> - -<p>"I'll see him when I return: you can explain the case as well as I, -sir. I shall bring Gramp back with me if I can manage it."</p> - -<p>"And Mrs. Warrender--shall I tell Blair about her?"</p> - -<p>"I fear you must. But let him be circumspect. It is not necessary to -take any steps against her until we are tolerably sure of the reason -for her sudden flight. When do they hold the inquest on Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"To-morrow."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll be back to-night and tell you what I've done." And Alan -rose to go.</p> - -<p>"One moment, my dear boy. What about Sophy?"</p> - -<p>"I've seen her, and, of course, I was judicious in what I told her. -She knows nothing about the loss of the key and my suspicions of -Brown, although, funnily enough, she herself suspects him."</p> - -<p>"Bless me! on what grounds can she do that?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, on the purely feminine grounds that she suspects him. She -declares she will not marry me until her father's body is discovered."</p> - -<p>"Very right; very proper. I quite agree with her. You should start -your married life with an absolutely clean sheet, Alan."</p> - -<p>The young man nodded, and as he left the inn he delivered himself of -one warning.</p> - -<p>"Whatever you do, keep your eye on Joe Brill," he said significantly.</p> - -<p>"Why--why? What for?"</p> - -<p>"Because I fancy he knows a good deal more than he is inclined to -tell," replied Alan.</p> - -<p>Then, without further comment, he drove off, leaving the Rector -considerably bewildered at this abrupt interpolation of a fresh name -into the persons of the drama.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Alan caught his train, and in due time, or a very fair -approach to it, arrived in London. He took a hasty lunch at Waterloo, -and drove to Westminster Bridge. Here he dismissed his cab, and set -about inquiring for Dixon's Rents. The slum--its name was highly -suggestive of its being such--appeared to be well known. The first -constable he asked was both familiar with and communicative about it.</p> - -<p>"It's within easy distance of Lambeth Palace, sir," he said. "A bit -rough by night, but you'll be all right there in the daytime. Ask any -constable near by the Palace, sir, and he'll put you right. Thank you, -sir."</p> - -<p>Alan left the officer of the law well pleased with his unlooked-for -half-crown, and walked on towards the Palace. The second constable -could not leave his beat, but the bestowal of another half-crown -elicited from him the practical suggestion that a certain young -shoeblack of repute should act as guide. The shoeblack was quite near -at hand, and very shortly was enrolled as guide for the occasion. -Together he and Alan started off, leaving the constable well content, -though withal a trifle mystified, not to say curious.</p> - -<p>The shoeblack led the way, and Alan followed closely. They turned away -from the river into a mass of houses, where the streets became more -and more squalid, and the population more and more ragged and unkempt. -At length, after many twistings and turnings, they arrived at the -entrance to a narrow cul-de-sac, and he was informed that this was his -destination. He rewarded and dismissed the shoeblack, and proceeded -down the dirty lane. Almost the first person he saw was a tall woman -standing at the entrance of the court, closely veiled. She seemed to -be hesitating whether she would come on or not. Then, suddenly, she -threw up her veil. As she did so Alan uttered an exclamation of -surprise.</p> - -<p>It was Mrs. Warrender!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_07" href="#div1Ref_07">CHAPTER VII.</a></h4> -<h5>IN DIXON'S RENTS.</h5> -<br> - -<p>At the sound of Alan's voice Mrs. Warrender started like a guilty -thing. He was astonished beyond measure at finding her in the same -unsavory neighborhood as himself, bound, for all he knew, on the same -errand. At all events, it was surely more than a coincidence that she -should be on the threshold of Gramp's dwelling, so to speak.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Warrender," he said, gravely lifting his hat, "this is indeed a -surprise. Of course, you know what has happened at Heathton?"</p> - -<p>"I know all," answered the woman, in a rich, low voice. "Jarks, the -sexton, told my servant this morning what has happened to poor Julian, -and that his body has been found in the Marlow vault."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure you did not know of it last night?" asked Alan quietly.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold!"</p> - -<p>The color rushed to her face.</p> - -<p>"I mean that the letter which disturbed you so much might have hinted -at the murder."</p> - -<p>"A letter? How do you know I got a letter last night?"</p> - -<p>"The Rector called to break the news to you this morning, and your -servant told him that you already knew it; also that you had left for -London--with your jewels, Mrs. Warrender," added Alan significantly.</p> - -<p>"And you followed me!" cried the woman savagely. "Do you intend to -accuse me of my husband's murder?"</p> - -<p>"I certainly do not; and I did not follow you. I am here on the same -errand as yourself."</p> - -<p>She looked terrified.</p> - -<p>"How do you know what my errand is?"</p> - -<p>"Because I can put two and two together, Mrs. Warrender. I also -received a letter--at least, Miss Marlow did, and from the same -man--the man who lives here."</p> - -<p>"Cicero Gramp?"</p> - -<p>"That is the name. You see, I was right. Does he intend to blackmail -you also, and did you bring your jewels to satisfy his demands?"</p> - -<p>She looked down the court. They were comparatively alone. A few ragged -children were playing about, and some slatternly women were watching -them from doorways. A man or two, brutalized by drink, hovered in the -distance. But a smart constable, who passed and repassed the entrance -of the cul-de-sac, casting inquisitive glances at Alan and his -companion, kept these birds of prey from any nearer approach. Finding -that they were out of earshot, Mrs. Warrender produced a letter and -handed it to Alan. It was written on the same thick, creamy paper, and -in the same elegant handwriting as had been the communication to -Sophy. He read it in silence. As he had expected, it informed Mrs. -Warrender that her husband was dead, and that Cicero Gramp, on payment -of two hundred pounds, could inform her where the body could be found. -His price had evidently gone up. But what struck Alan most was the -nature of the information now offered. Cicero declared that he could -tell the widow where her husband's body was to be found. The body had -already been discovered in the Marlow vault. Ergo, Cicero Gramp knew -it was there. If so, had he seen the murder committed and the body -taken into the vault? It seemed probable. Indeed, it seemed likely -that he could solve the whole mystery; but, strangely enough, the -prospect did not seem to afford Mr. Thorold much satisfaction. He -handed back the letter with a dissatisfied smile.</p> - -<p>"I think you have wasted your time coming up," he said. "Jarks, no -doubt, told your servant that the doctor's body had already been -discovered. Why, then, come up to pay blackmail?"</p> - -<p>"I want to find out who killed Julian," she said.</p> - -<p>"Then you are on your way to see this man?"</p> - -<p>"Yes." She shuddered. "But this terrible place. I am afraid."</p> - -<p>"Then why come here? I am going to see Mr. Gramp on Miss Marlow's -behalf. If you like, I will represent you also."</p> - -<p>"No, thank you; I must see him myself."</p> - -<p>"Very well. I suppose you are not staying in town?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, at the Norfolk Hotel. I shall remain until to-morrow, so as to -sell my jewels and bribe this man."</p> - -<p>"There will be no need to sell your jewels," said Alan soothingly. "I -will be responsible for the blackmail. Have you the jewels with you?"</p> - -<p>"No, I dared not bring them. He might have robbed me. They are in my -bedroom at the hotel."</p> - -<p>"Then go back at once and look after them. I will bring this man there -in, let us say, an hour."</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Mr. Thorold," she said. "I accept your offer. I am really -afraid to go down that slum."</p> - -<p>He gazed after her fine figure as she walked hurriedly away. Somehow -that haughty air and resolute gait did not fit in well with her -expression of fear. It was curious. He felt there was something -strange about Mrs. Warrender. However, she had been open enough with -him, so he did not choose to think badly of her.</p> - -<p>The man he sought was not easy to find. Mr. Cramp had his own reasons -for keeping clear of the police. The whole alley was known by the name -of Dixon's Rents, and Thorold had no idea in which of the houses to -ask for him. He questioned a stunted street Arab with wolfish eyes, -emphasizing his request with a sixpence.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Cicero!" yelped the lad, biting the coin. "Yuss, he's round -about. Dunno! Y'ain't a 'tec?"</p> - -<p>"What's that?"</p> - -<p>"A de-tec-tive," drawled the boy. "Cicero ain't wanted, is he?"</p> - -<p>"Not by me. Is Cicero generally--er--wanted?" inquired Alan -delicately.</p> - -<p>The urchin closed one eye rapidly, and grinned with many teeth. But, -instead of replying he took to shouting hoarsely for "Mother Ginger." -The surrounding population popped out of their burrows like so many -rabbits, and for the next few minutes "Mother Ginger" was asked for -vigorously. Alan looked round at the ragged, blear-eyed slum-dwellers, -but could see nothing of the lady in question. Suddenly his arm was -twitched, and he turned to find a dwarf no higher than his waist -trying to attract his attention. Mother Ginger, for it was she, had a -huge head of red hair, fantastically decked with ribbons of many -colors. Her dress, too, was rainbow-hued, like Joseph's coat. She had -carpet slippers on her huge feet, and white woolen gloves on her large -hands. Her face was as large as a frying-pan and of a pallid hue, with -expressionless blue eyes and a big mouth. Alan saw in her a female -Quasimodo.</p> - -<p>"Wot is it?" she inquired. Evidently Mother Ginger was vain of her -finery and of the attention she attracted. "Is it Mr. Gramp you want, -m'dimber-cove?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Can you take me to him?" asked Thorold, wincing at the -penny-whistle quality of her voice. "Is he at home?"</p> - -<p>"P'r'aps he is, p'r'aps he ain't," retorted Mother Ginger, with a -fascinating leer. "Wot d'ye want with him?"</p> - -<p>"This will explain." And Alan put Cicero's letter into her hand. "Give -him that."</p> - -<p>She nodded, croaked like a bull-frog, and vanished amongst the crowd. -Mr. Thorold found himself the center of attraction and the object of -remark.</p> - -<p>This somewhat unpleasant position was put an end to by the appearance -of Mother Ginger, who clawed Alan, and drew him into a house at the -end of the court. The tatterdemalions gave a yell of disappointment at -the escape of their prey, and their prey congratulated himself that he -had not made his visit at night. He felt that he might have fared -badly in this modern Court of Miracles. However, it appeared that he -was safe under the protection of Mother Ginger. With the activity of a -monkey, she conducted him up a dirty staircase and into a bare room -furnished with a bed, a chair, and a table. Here Alan was greeted by a -bulky creature in a gorgeous red dressing-gown, old and greasy, but -still pretentious. He had no difficulty in recognizing the man whom he -had seen reciting on the parade at Bournemouth.</p> - -<p>"I welcome you, Mr. Thorold," said Cicero in his best Turveydrop -style. "Mother Ginger, depart."</p> - -<p>To get rid of the woman, Mr. Thorold placed a shilling in her concave -claw, upon which she executed a kind of war-dance, and vanished with a -yelp of delight. Left alone with the pompous vagabond, the young man -took the only chair, and faced his host, who was sitting majestically -on the bed, his red dressing-gown wrapped round him in regal style.</p> - -<p>"So you are Cicero Gramp?" began Alan. "I have seen you----"</p> - -<p>"At Bournemouth," interrupted the professor of elocution and -eloquence. "True, I was there for the benefit of my health."</p> - -<p>"And to blackmail Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Blackmail--a painful word, Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"How do you know my name?"</p> - -<p>"It is part of my business to know all names," was the answer--"<i>ex -nihilo nihil fit</i>, if you understand the tongue of my namesake. If I -did not know what I desire to know, my income would be small indeed. I -visited the salubrious village of Heathton, and learned there that -Miss Marlow and Mr. Thorold, to whom she was engaged, were recreating -themselves at the seaside with an inferior companion. Bournemouth was -the seaside, and I went there. On seeing a young lady with a spinster -and a gentleman in attendance, I noted Miss Marlow, Mr. Thorold, and -Miss Parsh."</p> - -<p>"And made yourself scarce?"</p> - -<p>"I did," admitted Cicero frankly. "I departed as soon as you were out -of sight, knowing that my letter would be delivered, and that you -might call in the police."</p> - -<p>"Ah, a guilty conscience!"</p> - -<p>"Far from it." Cicero flung open his dressing-gown and struck his -chest. "Here purity and innocence and peace are enthroned. I did not -wish to be taken by the minions of the law, lest they should wrest -from me for nothing what I should prefer to sell for a few pounds. -Besides, I wished to see you in my own house. A poor establishment," -said Mr. Gramp, looking round the meager room, "but mine own."</p> - -<p>He bowed gracefully, as if for applause.</p> - -<p>"Come, Mr. Gramp," said Alan diplomatically, "let us get to business. -What do you know about this matter?"</p> - -<p>"About the hundred pounds?" asked the man with an appearance of great -simplicity.</p> - -<p>"I'll pay you that, more or less, when I know what your information is -worth."</p> - -<p>"More or less won't do, Mr. Thorold. I want, from Miss Marlow or from -you, one hundred pounds."</p> - -<p>"I know, and two hundred from Mrs. Warrender."</p> - -<p>"Ah!"--Cicero did not move a muscle--"she has told you that I can give -you information about the body of her husband?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and she has come to town to see you. However, I have intercepted -her, and she is waiting to see you in a place I know of. You must come -with me, Mr. Gramp."</p> - -<p>But Cicero shook his head uneasily.</p> - -<p>"An Englishman's house is his castle," he said. "This is my house, my -keep, my donjon. <i>Quod erat demonstrandum!</i>"</p> - -<p>"Oh, confound your dictionary Latin!" cried Alan impatiently. "You are -afraid of the police?"</p> - -<p>"Far from it, Mr. Thorold. I have nothing to fear from them. For one -hundred pounds I lay bare my heart."</p> - -<p>"I'll give you fifty pounds on condition you tell me all you know. -From Mrs. Warrender you won't receive a penny."</p> - -<p>"Then she shall never know where lies the body of her late lamented -partner."</p> - -<p>"She knows that already," said Alan coolly.</p> - -<p>"Ha!"--Cicero gave a dramatic start--"you seek to deceive me!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, I do nothing of the sort; I found the body myself."</p> - -<p>"Where, may I ask?" said Gramp, his thoughts going back to the hut on -the heath.</p> - -<p>"In the Marlow vault, in the coffin of the dead man who was carried -away."</p> - -<p>Cicero's jaw fell. He was truly surprised.</p> - -<p>"How the devil did it get there from the hut?" he said.</p> - -<p>"The hut--what hut?"</p> - -<p>"I want my money before I tell you that, Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>Alan took five ten-pound notes out of his pocket.</p> - -<p>"Here is fifty pounds," he said; "it will be yours if you tell me all -you know, and come with me to see Mrs. Warrender."</p> - -<p>"Aha!" Cicero's eyes glittered, and his fingers longed to clutch the -money. Such wealth had not been his for many a long day. "And the -police?"</p> - -<p>"I thought you did not fear them?" was the reply.</p> - -<p>"I don't, for I have done nothing to put myself in the power of the -law. But I am afraid, as this body has been found, that you will have -me arrested, and so I shall lose the money."</p> - -<p>"If you are innocent of the murder and the sacrilege, you won't be -arrested, Gramp. And the money I will give you after we have seen Mrs. -Warrender."</p> - -<p>"On your word of honor as a gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, on my word of honor. If you can throw light on this mystery, and -bring home these crimes to the person who has committed them, I am -quite willing to pay you."</p> - -<p>"I don't know about bringing home the crimes, Mr. Thorold," said -Cicero, rising, "but I will tell you all I know in the presence of -Mrs. Warrender. Permit me to assume my visiting garb. Where is the -lady?"</p> - -<p>"At the Norfolk Hotel."</p> - -<p>"I know it. Many a glass which cheers have I drained there. <i>Dulce -desipere in loco</i>. You don't know Horace, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"I suspect you don't," said Alan, annoyed by this hedge-Latin. "Hurry -up!"</p> - -<p>"Fifty pounds, Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"After our interview with Mrs. Warrender," amended the other -significantly.</p> - -<p>"Command my services," said Cicero, and rapidly put on his frock-coat, -battered hat and gloves.</p> - -<p>After he had brushed his greasy broadcloth, and dusted his large boots -with the red bandana, he announced that he was ready.</p> - -<p>The oddly-assorted pair proceeded to the Norfolk Hotel through the -Lambeth slums. Cicero seemed to be very well known and very popular. -He exchanged greetings with shady acquaintances, patted ragged -children on the head, and arrived at the hotel swelling with pride. He -felt that he had shown Alan he was a man of consequence. Arrived at -their destination, they were shown by a slipshod waiter into a shabby -sitting-room on the first floor where they found Mrs. Warrender. She -rose, and on seeing Cicero, gave a shriek of surprise.</p> - -<p>"Bill!" she cried with a gasp.</p> - -<p>"Clara Maria!" exclaimed the so-called Cicero, "my beloved sister! -What a surprise!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_08" href="#div1Ref_08">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h4> -<h5>AN IMPORTANT INTERVIEW</h5> -<br> - -<p>"Well, I never!" gasped the widow, who, womanlike, was the first to -find her tongue. "Is it really you, Billy?--but I might have guessed -it, from your writing. Yet it never entered my head!" She stopped and -grew suddenly furious. "My husband, you wretch!--have you killed him?"</p> - -<p>"No, Clara Maria, no! I came here to give information about his poor -body. I did not expect to find my sister--the celebrated Miss de -Crespigny--in the person of Mrs. Warrender!"</p> - -<p>"What is all this about?" demanded Alan quietly. "Is this your -brother, Mrs. Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"To my shame, sir, I confess this--this creature"--Mrs. Warrender -brought out the word with a hiss--"this degraded beast, is my -brother."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Clara Maria, how can you----"</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue!" interrupted the lady angrily. "You were always a -drunkard and a scoundrel! Now you've come to blackmailing! Two hundred -pounds from me, you wretch! Not one sixpence!"</p> - -<p>"I have already," said her brother majestically, "arranged pecuniary -matters with my friend Mr. Thorold. But I wonder at you, Clara Maria, -I really do, considering how we parted. Is this the greeting of flesh -and blood?" cried Mr. Gramp in a soaring voice, and standing on -tiptoe. "Is this what human nature is made of? The late Sir Isaac -Newton was a prophet indeed when he made that remark."</p> - -<p>"Mountebank!" hissed Mrs. Warrender, curling her handsome lip.</p> - -<p>"We were both mountebanks at one time, Mr. Thorold," he said, turning -to Alan, who, in spite of his anxiety, was watching the scene with -unconcealed amusement. "My sister was the celebrated Miss de -Crespigny; I, the once noted actor, Vavasour Belgrave----"</p> - -<p>"And his real name is Billy Spinks!" put in Mrs. Warrender scornfully.</p> - -<p>"William Spinks," corrected Mr. Gramp, as it may be convenient to call -him. "Billy is merely an endearing term to which, alas! your lips have -long been strangers. But you needn't talk," said Cicero, becoming -angry, and therewith a trifle vulgar; "your name is Clara Maria -Spinks!"</p> - -<p>"And a very good name, too," retorted the lady. "Cut the scene short, -Billy."</p> - -<p>"That is my advice also," put in Alan, who was growing weary. "I do -not want to know any more about your relationship. That you are -brother and sister is nothing to me."</p> - -<p>"I hope, Mr. Thorold, that you won't reveal my degraded connection in -Heathton," cried Mrs. Warrender, much agitated. "It would ruin me. -With great difficulty I attained a position by marrying my poor dear -Julian, and I don't want to fall back into the mud where this worm -writhes." She darted a vicious glance at Cicero.</p> - -<p>"Be content, Mrs. Warrender; your secret is safe with me."</p> - -<p>"Denying her own flesh and blood!" moaned Gramp, and sat down.</p> - -<p>Speech and attitude were most effective, and Mrs. Warrender, with a -spark of her old theatrical humor, played back.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I deny you," she cried, rising quickly and stretching out a -denunciatory hand. "You were always a brute and a disgrace to me. Look -at that creature, Mr. Thorold! He is my brother. Our parents were on -the stage--barnstormers they were--and played in the provinces for -bite and sup. They put us on the stage, and when thy died, left a -little money to Billy there. He was to bring me up. How did he fulfil -his trust? By making me work for him. As an actor, even in the meanest -parts, he was a failure. I am not much of an actress myself, although -I was well known as Miss de Crespigny, and billed all over London. It -was my figure and my looks that did it. I appeared in burlesque ten or -twelve years ago, and I had wealth at my feet."</p> - -<p>"I have heard of you," said Alan, recalling his college days and -certain photographs of the most beautiful burlesque actress in London. -He wondered he had not recognized her long before. Mrs. Warrender, -shaking with passion, went on as though she had not heard him.</p> - -<p>"Wealth was at my feet," went on the widow--"wealth and dishonor. -He," she cried, and pointed the finger of scorn at the unabashed -Cicero, "he lived on me! He would have me stoop to dishonor for his -sake! Then I lost my voice. The creature treated me basely. I left -him; I ran away to the States of America, and appeared in ballets for -my looks alone. In New Orleans I met Julian Warrender--he was old, but -he was madly in love with me--and I married him for a home. We came to -England five years ago, and settled at Heathton. I always did my best -to be a good wife, although I dare say I was extravagant. Diamonds! -yes, I have diamonds, and I made Julian buy me all he could. And -why?--to provide against the days of poverty which I knew would come. -They have come--my husband is dead. God help me!" Her voice rose to a -scream. "Murdered!" she cried.</p> - -<p>"This," interpolated Gramp, addressing no one in particular, "is very -painful."</p> - -<p>"You beast! Why do you come into my life again? I wanted to know about -my poor husband's death, and I brought up my jewels to bribe the man -who called himself Cicero Gramp into confessing who had murdered him. -I find that my own brother is the blackmailer. You would extort money -from me, you wretch! Never! never! never! I disown you--I cast you -out! William Spinks, blackguard you were! Cicero Gramp, scoundrel, -thief, blackmailer, and, for all I know, murderer, you are! Away with -you--away!" and Mrs. Warrender, very white in face and very exhausted -in body, sat down.</p> - -<p>"Very good," said her brother, rising; "I go."</p> - -<p>"Without your fifty pounds?" asked Alan, sneering.</p> - -<p>"I forgot that," he said, smiling blandly.</p> - -<p>"Don't give him a penny, Mr. Thorold!" cried the woman with vehemence.</p> - -<p>"I promised him the money, and he shall have it," replied Alan coldly. -"I have heard your story, Mrs. Warrender, and it is safe with me. No -one in Heathton shall know. Your brother will not speak of it either."</p> - -<p>"How do you know that?" asked Cicero, with an evil look.</p> - -<p>"Because you shall not have the fifty pounds until I have your promise -to hold your tongue about your relationship to Mrs. Warrender while -you are in Heathton."</p> - -<p>"I am not going to Heathton," growled Gramp like a sulky bear.</p> - -<p>"Yes, you are. You are coming to tell your story to Inspector Blair. -If you don't, not only will you lose your fifty pounds, but I will -have you arrested as a suspicious character."</p> - -<p>"You promised that the police should not touch me."</p> - -<p>"I promised nothing of the sort. Now, tell me what you saw of these -crimes--for there are two: sacrilege and murder--and then come to -Heathton. Behave well, keep Mrs. Warrender's secret, and you shall -have fifty pounds and your freedom. Otherwise----" Alan held up his -finger.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Thorold!" cried the widow, wringing her hands, "if this -horrible man comes to Heathton, I am lost!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed no! He will hold his tongue. Won't you?"</p> - -<p>"You seem very sure of it," said the professor of eloquence.</p> - -<p>"Of course I am. You see, Mr. Gramp, I have the handling of the late -Mr. Marlow's money, and I can buy your silence."</p> - -<p>"Not for fifty pounds."</p> - -<p>"We shall see about that. It's either fifty pounds or the police. -Choose!"</p> - -<p>Cicero folded his arms, and bowed his head.</p> - -<p>"I will take the money," he said, "and I will hold my tongue--while I -am at Heathton giving my evidence. Afterwards----" he looked at his -sister.</p> - -<p>"Afterwards," said Alan smoothly, "we will make other arrangements. -Now tell your story."</p> - -<p>"And tell the truth!" put in Mrs. Warrender sharply.</p> - -<p>"Clara Maria!" Cicero was about to break forth in furious speech, but -he restrained himself. "<i>Hodie mihi eras tibi!</i>" said Mr. Gramp, with -a strange look at Alan--"if you understand Latin."</p> - -<p>"I think I am able to follow you, my friend. You mean 'To-day to me, -to-morrow to thee,' which would be all right if it was I who quoted -the saying. But this time it is not your day, and as to your -to-morrow, it may never come."</p> - -<p>"We shall see about that," said Cicero savagely and pointedly.</p> - -<p>Alan felt an unpleasant thrill run through him, for the man's look was -evil beyond telling. But he betrayed nothing of this, and signed to -Gramp to continue.</p> - -<p>Quite understanding the position, Cicero reverted to his grand -theatrical manner. He rose from his chair, rested one hand on the back -of it, and thrust the other into his breast. As from a rostrum he -delivered his speech, and dwelt upon his own words with the gusto of a -modern Micawber.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold and Clara Maria," he began in deep tones, "a few days ago -circumstances connected with money turned me weary and hungry from the -seaport of Southampton. I went--let us be plain--I went on the tramp, -and in the course of my peregrinations I drew near Heathton, a -salubrious village, notorious at the present moment for the crimes -which have been committed there. I spun a coin, my only sixpence, to -decide if an intrusion into that village would bring me good or evil -fortune. The coin said good, so to Heathton I went. As I shall shortly -pocket fifty quid--a vulgar term, but eloquent, Clara Maria, so don't -frown--I dare not say that my only sixpence told me a lie. That -sixpence bought me a meal in the Heathton public-house. Where is that -meal or sixpence now? <i>Eheu! Fuit Ilium.</i>"</p> - -<p>"Go on," said Alan curtly, for the orator paused.</p> - -<p>"At the Good Samaritan I heard much about Mr. Marlow and the funeral, -and learned a few facts which were of use to me afterwards."</p> - -<p>"When you thrust yourself into the kitchen at the Moat House, I -presume?"</p> - -<p>"You are correct, Mr. Thorold. I did good business there; and I -learned, from the irresponsible chatter of the domestics, a few other -facts which may also prove valuable."</p> - -<p>He looked directly at Alan as he said this.</p> - -<p>"Go on! go on!" said Thorold again. But he felt uneasy.</p> - -<p>"I was turned out of the Good Samaritan by a hard-hearted landlady -called--appropriately, I confess--Mrs. Timber. As the night was fine, -I slept in the churchyard, opposite the tomb of Mr. Marlow. Soon after -midnight I was awakened by voices. I looked out, and saw two men, one -tall, the other short."</p> - -<p>"Who were they?" Alan asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>"One I knew later; the other one I am still in doubt about, as I did -not see his face."</p> - -<p>"But the names?"</p> - -<p>"You shall hear the names, Clara Maria, when I am ready, not before. -These men went into the tomb, remained there for some time, and came -out with the body. They lifted it over the low wall of the churchyard, -and went, I think, across the moor."</p> - -<p>"You followed?" cried Alan breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"No. I was afraid I might get into trouble, so I ran in the opposite -direction. I slept the rest of the night in a hayrick far from the -churchyard. Next day I sought the Moat House kitchen, and listened to -the talk of the servants. Then I went away with the idea of seeing -Miss Marlow at Bournemouth, as the servants said she was there with -Mr. Thorold. On the moor I saw a hut. I went into it to eat a frugal -meal. In it I found"--Cicero paused to give his words due effect--"a -corpse."</p> - -<p>"Whose corpse?"</p> - -<p>"That of the man who had assisted to steal the body, Clara Maria. Your -husband, Dr. Warrender!"</p> - -<p>"You liar!" shrieked the widow, making a bound at him. "Oh, you liar!"</p> - -<p>Alan flung himself between these affectionate relatives, or it might -have fared badly with Cicero.</p> - -<p>"Hold hard, Mrs. Warrender!" he said, holding her back; "let us -listen."</p> - -<p>"Listen to his lies! Do you hear that he says my husband stole Mr. -Marlow's body?"</p> - -<p>"So he did," said Cicero doggedly. "I'm telling you what I shall tell -to the police. The tall man was Dr. Warrender. I saw his face in the -lantern-light. Who the short man was I do not know."</p> - -<p>"How did you recognize Dr. Warrender?" demanded Alan, when Mrs. -Warrender had sat down again.</p> - -<p>"I didn't know him at the time; but I had his description from the -servants."</p> - -<p>"Tall, yellow beard, bald head?" said Thorold rapidly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that was the man who assisted to remove the body, and that is -the description of the corpse I found in the hut."</p> - -<p>"My husband's body was found in the vault, you liar!" cried the widow.</p> - -<p>"Was it, Clara Maria? Well, all I can say is I don't know how it got -there. I left it in the hut myself."</p> - -<p>"Why did you not give information to the police?"</p> - -<p>"What! And get locked up on suspicion of murder? No, thank you, Mr. -Thorold. I ran away from that corpse as I would have done from the -devil."</p> - -<p>"Whose child you are," said his sister bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Don't miscall your own father, Clara Maria. Well, sir, I went on to -Bournemouth, and wrote two letters, one to Miss Marlow, and one to my -sister, although I did not know she was my sister then. Had I known I -had a relative in Heathton," said Cicero with pathos, "I should have -asked for a bed."</p> - -<p>"And your sister, Billy Spinks, would have set the dogs on you."</p> - -<p>"I am sure you would, Clara Maria. You were always one for sentimental -scenes."</p> - -<p>"Tell me, Gramp, is this all you know of these crimes?" put in Alan.</p> - -<p>"All, Mr. Thorold. I think, sir, it is worth fifty pounds."</p> - -<p>"Humph! We'll see what the police say. You have no objection, I -suppose, to come with me to Heathton and repeat this story?"</p> - -<p>"Having a clear conscience," said Cicero, with a superior smile, "I -can safely say that I have not. But the fifty, Mr. Thorold?"</p> - -<p>"Will be paid after you have told Blair this story."</p> - -<p>"If you are so poor," put in Mrs. Warrender, "where did you get money -to buy that writing-paper? It was costly paper."</p> - -<p>"It was," admitted Mr. Gramp with pride--"it was, Clara Maria. I -always do things in style. If you remember, I got a prize at school -for letter-writing."</p> - -<p>"Where did you get the money?"</p> - -<p>"From a nautical man called Joe Brill--a sovereign."</p> - -<p>"A sovereign from Joe Brill?" cried Alan, starting. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! you may ask," said Cicero. "In my opinion it was hush-money."</p> - -<p>"Hush-money! What do you mean, man?"</p> - -<p>"Mean! I mean that I believe Joe Brill was the short man I saw that -night. Yes, Mr. Thorold, Joe stole the corpse, and Joe killed foully, -with a knife, my respected brother-in-law. <i>Hinc illæ lachrymæ!</i>"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_09" href="#div1Ref_09">CHAPTER IX.</a></h4> -<h5>INVESTIGATION</h5> -<br> - -<p>Whilst Alan Thorold was dealing with Cicero and his sister in London, -Inspector Blair was co-operating with the Rector in obtaining evidence -relating to the murder. The inspector was a dry, dour, silent man, -born in England, but of Scotch descent. He was cautious to a fault, -and never expressed an opinion without having well considered what he -was going to say. It was now a common sight in Heathton for his long, -lean figure and the Rector's short, plump one to be seen constantly -together.</p> - -<p>He was now in the Rectory dining-room with a good glass of port beside -him, and Mr. Phelps, standing on the hearthrug, was supplying him with -all the details he had collected in connection with the mystery. The -case was getting so much more interesting than Blair, the sad and -silent, had expected that he was becoming, for him, quite vivacious. -He asked the Rector one question after another.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold has gone to Dixon's Rents, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Inspector; I expect he'll have some news for us when he -returns to-night."</p> - -<p>"He seems a clever young gentleman," Blair said musingly. "I dare say -he will bring this man Gramp with him."</p> - -<p>"Do you think that Gramp can point out the guilty person?"</p> - -<p>"That, sir, I am not prepared to say offhand. If convenient, I should -like to take a look round."</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Where shall we go, Mr. Inspector?" and Mr. Phelps rose -briskly.</p> - -<p>"To the vault, if you please, sir. Afterwards we will call on Mrs. -Marry."</p> - -<p>The Rector paused at the door.</p> - -<p>"I told you all Mrs. Marry had to say about Brown."</p> - -<p>"Quite so, sir. But I wish to have a look at the rooms occupied by the -man. Also, I think it would be as well to examine his luggage."</p> - -<p>"Can you do that without a warrant?"</p> - -<p>"I'll take the risk," said Blair coolly. "An examination may not be -quite legal under the circumstances, but as Brown undoubtedly procured -the key of the vault by that forged letter, I am entitled to look upon -him as a suspicious character. Should he come back, sir--of which I -have my doubts--I can account for my action."</p> - -<p>"Humph! I think you are right. Come, then, and look at the vault."</p> - -<p>To the vault they went, and found Jarks showing the outside of it to a -crowd of morbid sightseers. Indeed, the tragedy had drawn people from -far and near to Heathton, and the usually quiet place buzzed like a -hive. Mrs. Timber was making her fortune, and blessed the day she had -turned Cicero the tramp out of her house. To him alone did Mrs. Timber -ascribe the theft of the body. As to his connection with the murder of -Dr. Warrender, she was not so certain.</p> - -<p>"Come, come!" cried Mr. Phelps, in his fussy manner, on finding Jarks -haranguing the crowd. "This is most ridiculous--most out of place. -Jarks, I am astonished at your desecrating the graveyard in this way."</p> - -<p>"No desecration, reverend sir," said Jarks, in his rusty voice, "I wos -only showing 'em where I laid Muster Marlow by, comfortable. Go----"</p> - -<p>"Go away--go away, all of you!"</p> - -<p>"Come on to the right!" shouted Jarks. "I'll show 'ee where a soocide -as they brought in crazy is tucked away. A lovely grave with a good -view, an' as nice a stone as I iver seed. In my young days he'd have -been buried in cross-roads with a stake, but they do trate 'em kindly -nowadays. Ah yis. This way to the soocide, neighbors!" And Jarks -headed the crowd to the other side of the graveyard. The keen, cold -eye of Inspector Blair cleared them out more quickly than Jarks' -invitation.</p> - -<p>"Dear me! most indiscreet of Jarks!" said the Rector, opening the door -of the vault. "Come in, Mr. Inspector. Here's a candle. Tut, tut! I've -burnt my fingers. Deuce take---- Hum--God forgive me for bad language! -This is the niche, Mr. Inspector; yonder the coffin--a very handsome -one. The lead is cut, you perceive. Ah, poor soul! And we meant it to -last till the Great Day."</p> - -<p>While the Rector ran on in this fashion, Blair the silent examined the -empty coffin. He noted that the lead casing had been cut with a sharp -instrument, and very neatly done--so neatly that the inspector became -thoughtful.</p> - -<p>"That wasn't done by a man in a hurry," he mused. But he said nothing, -and merely turned to Mr. Phelps with a question: "Who screwed down the -coffin?"</p> - -<p>"Who?--bless me, let me think! Yes, yes. Dr. Warrender--poor -soul!--and Joe Brill. Faithful fellow, Joe! Would see the last of his -master."</p> - -<p>"Wasn't the undertaker present?"</p> - -<p>"Crank? Well, yes, he was. But I am sorry to say, Mr. Inspector"--here -the face of the Rector became severe--"that on that day Crank was -intoxicated."</p> - -<p>"H'm! Who made him drunk?"</p> - -<p>"Himself, I suppose," rejoined Mr. Phelps, a trifle tartly. "Crank -requires no one to tempt him."</p> - -<p>"Few men do, sir," said Blair, and again examined the coffin. He -passed his long, delicate hand over every inch of it, particularly -fingering the lid; then he looked round the niche where it rested, -peered into the others, and considered well all that he saw, while Mr. -Phelps chattered. "Quite so," said the detective at length; "let us go -outside."</p> - -<p>He examined the graveyard as carefully as he had done the vault. In -the angle formed by the Lady Chapel he found the long grass crushed -down, and part of it torn up to make a pillow.</p> - -<p>"Humph! a squatting-place," said Blair, who had read a good deal about -prehistoric man. "A tramp has been sleeping here."</p> - -<p>"A tramp!" repeated the Rector. "Of course that was Cicero Gramp, who -wrote the letter."</p> - -<p>"No doubt. I dare say he saw the whole business." Blair continued his -researches, and came to a halt at the wall which divided church-yard -from pine-wood. He pointed to a loose stone which had been knocked -off. "Did you observe this before, sir?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Mr. Phelps, raising his pince-nez. "But that's nothing. -You see, the wall has been put together without mortar--simply stones -piled one on top of the other. A high wind, now----"</p> - -<p>"I don't think a high wind knocked this stone off. You will notice, -sir, that it has fallen on the other side. Excuse me," and Blair, -active as a deer, leaped over the wall and disappeared into the -pine-belt. Phelps rubbed his nose, not understanding these Red Indian -methods. In ten minutes the inspector returned. "I can't find the -trail," said he, "but from the evidence of that wall, I suspect the -body was carried over it."</p> - -<p>"Where to, Mr. Inspector?"</p> - -<p>"Probably to a cart waiting on the highroad, which runs across the -moor. But, of course, I'm in the dark as to that. Let me see the -keyhole of the vault-door." He went back and had a good look at it. -There were no scratches to be seen. "Humph!" said the inspector; "this -was opened quietly enough, and by a man who knew what he was about. -There was no hurry or fumbling in putting in the key."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said the Rector, looking wise. "What key? Not this one?"</p> - -<p>"No, Mr. Phelps, I don't suspect you. Probably the key was that stolen -from Mr. Thorold's desk by the Quiet Gentleman."</p> - -<p>"You speak as though you were not quite sure."</p> - -<p>"There might have been a third key," Blair said cautiously.</p> - -<p>"If so, why should Brown have stolen Thorold's key?"</p> - -<p>"That's one of the things I have to find out. Let us call on Mrs. -Marry."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Marry was a voluble, buxom woman, with rosy cheeks, and a great -amount of curiosity as to matters which did not concern her. But, -clever as she was, it seemed that she had nothing to tell about Mr. -Brown. With many curtsies and much talk she conducted Rector and -inspector into a gimcrack parlor full of gaudy furniture, Berlin wool -mats, antimacassars, and wax flowers.</p> - -<p>"When Jeremiah died," explained the widow with pride, "I spent the -nest-egg he left me on that elegant set of chairs and sofa, also on -the curtains, table, and glass lusters, which are considered very -fine. It was my intent, gentlemen, as a lone widder, to take in single -gentlemen, and they likes something to tickle the eye."</p> - -<p>"A most inviting room, Mrs. Marry," said the Rector, perching himself -carefully on a fragile chair, all varnish and design, but entirely -wanting in solidity; "but Mr. Brown----"</p> - -<p>"Ah, sir, he's gone where we must all go;" and Mrs. Marry wiped away -an imaginary tear.</p> - -<p>But her remark called forth a question from Blair, who had been making -a close examination of the room:</p> - -<p>"How do you know he is dead?"</p> - -<p>"Bless the man! wouldn't he be back if he wasn't? I'm sure he was -comfortable enough, and my cooking is above blame, thank Heaven! If -any one----"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Brown went out at nine o'clock?" said Blair, cutting her short.</p> - -<p>"I won't deceive you, Mr. Policeman, he did. He stayed in most of the -day, and went out in the afternoon. At six he came back for his bit -and sup, and at nine he went out again to take the air. He said so, at -least, and I ain't set eyes on him since."</p> - -<p>"He said so?" remarked Mr. Phelps.</p> - -<p>"On his fingers, of course. He was dumb, sir, but not deaf, and he -conversed on his fingers wonderful. I can talk myself that way," said -Mrs. Marry gravely, "having a niece as is deaf and dumb in an asylum. -I expect it was my knowing the language as brought Mr. Brown here to -lodge."</p> - -<p>"Where did he come from?"</p> - -<p>"London town, he gave me to understand, sir. But he didn't talk -much--on his fingers--about himself. He was very quiet, ate and drank, -read books----"</p> - -<p>"What kind of books?"</p> - -<p>"Novels, sir--yellow novels, in a foreign tongue. Here, sir, is the -rosewood bookcase. He also wrote a great deal, but what I don't know. -I thought he had ideas of becoming a writing person himself."</p> - -<p>Blair opened the bookcase, and one by one examined a dozen or so of -French novels ranged on the lower shelf. They were all by good -authors, the usual paper-covered cheap editions--nothing strange -about them. No name was written in any one of them. He shut up the -bookcase with a look of disappointment.</p> - -<p>"Was your lodger a Frenchman?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Lor', sir, I dunno! He talked English with his fingers. I've seen him -reading the newspapers."</p> - -<p>"He did not look like a foreigner," remarked the Rector.</p> - -<p>"Ah! I quite forgot you knew the man, Mr. Phelps. Can you describe his -looks?"</p> - -<p>"He was not very tall, had long white hair and a beard, ruddy cheeks, -and dark eyes. He was usually dressed in a gray suit, and walked with -a stout stick."</p> - -<p>"Gout in his feet," put in Mrs. Marry, not at all pleased at being -left out in the cold. "He wore cloth boots for his gout--walked very -badly, did Mr. Brown."</p> - -<p>"Strange!" murmured Blair, again looking round the room. "How could an -old man helpless through gout in the feet carry off a dead body? -Humph!"</p> - -<p>"He carried off no dead body!" cried Mrs. Marry, crimson with wrath, -"if it's Mr. Marlow's corpse you're talking of. I believe Mr. Brown's -bin murdered like the doctor."</p> - -<p>"Why do you believe so?"</p> - -<p>"Because I've made up my mind to believe it," said Mrs. Marry -fiercely. "And I'd like to see the man as would change my mind."</p> - -<p>"So should I," remarked Blair. "Well, Mrs. Marry, show me Mr. Brown's -room. I must examine his luggage."</p> - -<p>"There's only one box, and that's locked."</p> - -<p>"I'll take the liberty of opening it."</p> - -<p>"But you can't. I'm an honest woman. What'll Mr. Brown say when he -comes back and finds his things gone? Besides, there's a trifle of -rent, and----"</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue!" said the inspector, with a glance which quelled -her. "I will take nothing away. You forget who I am, Mrs. Marry. Show -me the bedroom." And the landlady, thinking better of it, obeyed -without further argument.</p> - -<p>The box was there--a common, brown-painted traveling-box. There was no -name on it, and it proved to be locked. The inspector asked for a -chisel, and forced it open. Within he found three suits of gray -clothes, some linen and socks, together with a pair of cloth -boots--nothing else. No name on the shirts, no tailor's tag on the -clothes. Evidently nothing of Mr. Brown's identity was to be learned -from his belongings.</p> - -<p>"The man from nowhere," said Phelps, gazing blankly around him.</p> - -<p>But Inspector Blair was not yet satisfied. He searched both -sitting-room and bedroom, questioned Mrs. Marry, looked at some torn -pieces of paper in the fireplace, and--found nothing. Rector and -inspector walked out of the cottage as wise as when they had entered -it. So far their search had been a failure.</p> - -<p>All that afternoon Blair hunted the village for evidence. He heard how -Warrender had called at Mrs. Marry's house, how he had left there to -follow the Quiet Gentleman, who had been seen by the peasant going in -the direction of the moor. Blair recalled the loose stone dropped from -the churchyard wall, and his own theory that the corpse had been taken -to a cart on the road. He sent out the police, and had the heath -searched, even to the hut where the corpse had been, but all with no -result. And as yet he was ignorant of what Cicero knew.</p> - -<p>Tired and baffled, he returned to Heathton to the inn. Here he found a -messenger from Mr. Phelps, asking him to call at the Rectory. He -hurried there, and was met by Alan Thorold, who presented Cicero and -Mrs. Warrender. Then the tramp told the story of all that he had seen. -Blair rubbed his chin.</p> - -<p>"Can the doctor have helped Brown to do it?" he said half aloud.</p> - -<p>"No, he did not!" cried Mrs. Warrender angrily. "My husband was as -good a man as ever lived. Why should he steal a corpse?"</p> - -<p>"Humph! Why indeed!"</p> - -<p>Blair recollected something he had seen in the vault of which he cared -not to speak until he could be more certain. So he held his peace.</p> - -<p>"Even if the late lamented Dr. Warrender did violate the sanctity of -the tomb," said Cicero softly, "who killed the late lamented Dr. -Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the shorter man who helped him," said the Rector.</p> - -<p>"That was----"</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue just now," whispered Alan, for Cicero was about to -mention Joe Brill's name; "we'll come to that later. Who's that?"</p> - -<p>It proved to be Mrs. Marry, who came in with part of a torn envelope -in her hand. On the envelope was an obliterated stamp, but the writing -had been torn off.</p> - -<p>"I found this in Mr. Brown's room," she said, "on the floor by the -edge of the carpet. How it escaped my dusting I don't know."</p> - -<p>Blair looked at this piece of evidence.</p> - -<p>"Jamaica stamp," he said.</p> - -<p>"Strange!" cried the Rector. "I know Marlow was at one time in -Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"And my husband, Dr. Warrender, came from Jamaica," said the widow.</p> - -<p>There was silence. They looked at one another. But no one had any -explanation to offer.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_10" href="#div1Ref_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h4> -<h5>ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE</h5> -<br> - -<p>In the course of his investigations Mr. Blair had examined the -servants at the Moat House. From the footman he heard of the West -Indian letter, and of the effect it had produced upon Mr. Marlow. -Search had been made for that letter as likely to throw some light on -the mystery, but without success. Evidently Mr. Marlow had thought it -important enough to destroy. His secret, whatever it might have been, -had gone to the grave with him. It was a strange coincidence that the -man Brown should also have a correspondent in Jamaica. He it was who -had stolen the key of the vault from Alan's desk. Again, Dr. -Warrender--who, as his wife told Alan, had been in Jamaica--had -been murdered. Between these three men, then--Marlow, Brown and -Warrender--there was evidently some connecting-link. Had there not -been, Warrender would not have assisted to remove the body of the -millionaire, and Brown, by stealing the key, would not have helped -him.</p> - -<p>"There is no doubt in my mind that Brown was the short man seen by -Gramp," Blair said to Alan. "And he was followed from Mrs. Marry's by -Dr. Warrender, who was bound on the same errand."</p> - -<p>"You mean the theft of the body?"</p> - -<p>"I think so. Brown had the key and Gramp saw them remove the corpse."</p> - -<p>"He saw Warrender," corrected Alan, "not Brown."</p> - -<p>"I judge the other was Brown, from the theft of the key and the fact -that Warrender called to see him, and then followed. Again, both men -have disappeared--at least, one has. The other is dead."</p> - -<p>"And who murdered him?"</p> - -<p>"Brown," said the inspector, with conviction. "I am sure of it."</p> - -<p>"How can you be sure?"</p> - -<p>"Because something unforeseen happened--the murder, probably. In the -ordinary course of things, I take it, Brown would have come back to -fetch his luggage, and would have gone away in a manner less likely to -arouse suspicion. Probably he and Warrender had a quarrel when they -put the corpse in the cart. Brown killed the doctor, and then drove -away."</p> - -<p>"But, Blair," argued Alan, "you forget that the doctor's body was seen -in the hut. Even if Brown had dragged it there--which, I admit, he -might have done--I don't see how he could have brought it back again -to the vault."</p> - -<p>"I do, Mr. Thorold. It was Brown who had the key. Most likely he put -the dead body in a place of safety, then came back the following -night, to hide it away in the safest place he knew of--to wit, the -vault. If you recollect, no alarm as to the loss of Marlow's body was -given, or was likely to be given. Warrender's dead body would not have -been searched for in the vault. It is, at least, highly improbable -that the vault would have been opened."</p> - -<p>"That is true," assented Alan. "But that Cicero by chance saw the -affair, I dare say we should have remained in ignorance of the -business for many a long day. No one would have gone to the vault. A -very clever man, this Brown."</p> - -<p>"Very clever. But for the accident of Cicero having slept in the -churchyard, he would have got off scot-free. As it is, I don't see how -we can hunt him down. His gout, his dumbness, his white hair and beard -may have been assumed. The fact of the linen left at Mrs. Marry's -being unmarked is proof enough that he was disguised."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," said Alan doubtfully. "What I can't make out is, how he -knew I had the key of the vault in my desk."</p> - -<p>"Did you mention it to any one?"</p> - -<p>"Only to Mr. Phelps."</p> - -<p>"Where?"</p> - -<p>"In the churchyard after the funeral. We were all round the vault and -the service was just over. Phelps locked the door with his key and -asked me where mine was. I said, 'In my desk in the library.'"</p> - -<p>"Was Brown present at the funeral?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I think I caught a glimpse of him."</p> - -<p>"Was there a crowd round the vault door when it was closed?"</p> - -<p>"There was; but I didn't notice Brown on that occasion."</p> - -<p>Blair nodded.</p> - -<p>"Very probably. You were too much taken up with the business in hand. -Yet, I'll swear Brown was in the crowd, and heard you say where the -key was. The clever scoundrel made use of the information that same -afternoon."</p> - -<p>"I believe you are right," said Alan, clenching his fist. "Oh, I do -wish we could find the villain! But what object could he have had in -stealing the body?"</p> - -<p>"I can guess. Mr. Marlow was a millionaire."</p> - -<p>"Well, in a small way, yes."</p> - -<p>"In a way quite big enough to pay a handsome ransom, Mr. Thorold." The -inspector smiled. "Depend upon it, we shall hear from this so-called -Brown. He will ask a good few thousands for the return of the corpse. -Oh, it is not the first time this game has been played."</p> - -<p>"Well, if Brown writes, we'll have him arrested for the murder."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said Blair, shaking his head, "that is easier said than done. -He has been too clever for us so far, he may prove too clever in the -matter of obtaining the reward of his wickedness. Well, Mr. Thorold, -the inquest takes place to-morrow, but I haven't got much evidence for -the jury."</p> - -<p>He was right. All his talk had been built up upon theory, and on the -slenderest of circumstantial evidence. The fact that Brown, the -mysterious, had stolen the key--and even that was not absolutely -proved--did not show that he had stolen the body. Cicero could not -swear to his identity, and, even presuming that he had committed the -sacrilege, there was no evidence that it was he who had murdered -Warrender.</p> - -<p>And so the inquest on the body of the ill-fated doctor was held, the -theft of the millionaire's corpse being merely a side-issue. Can it be -wondered that the jury were puzzled? All that could be scraped -together by Blair was put before them. Cicero related his midnight -experience; Mrs. Warrender told how her husband went out to see a -patient; Mrs. Marry how the doctor called at her house, and afterwards -followed Brown. Finally, Alan and his housekeeper gave evidence as to -the loss of the key, and the forged letter was produced. Out of this -sparse detail little could be made, and after some deliberation, the -jury brought in the only verdict possible under the circumstances:</p> - -<p>"The deceased has been murdered by some person or persons unknown."</p> - -<p>"Most unsatisfactory," said Blair grimly; "but there is no more to be -said."</p> - -<p>"What can you do now?" asked Alan. "Shall you give up the case?"</p> - -<p>"That depends upon you, sir, or, rather, upon Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"In what way?"</p> - -<p>"In the money way, Mr. Thorold. I'm a poor man, and must attend to my -duties. All the same, if Miss Marlow will offer a reward, I will do my -utmost to find out who stole her father's body and who murdered the -doctor."</p> - -<p>"Why couple the two crimes?"</p> - -<p>"Because, sir, in my opinion, Brown committed both. Give a reward, Mr. -Thorold, and I'll do my best; otherwise, as I have other urgent -matters on hand, I must drop the business. But I don't deny," -continued the inspector, stroking his chin, "that if I were a moneyed -man I'd work at this business for the sheer love of it. It is a kind -of criminal mystery which does not happen every day."</p> - -<p>"The reward shall be offered," said Alan. "Miss Marlow will be guided -by me."</p> - -<p>Needless to say, Sophy was guided by him. Indeed, so eager was she -that the remains of her father should be recovered that, had not Alan -suggested it, she would have offered a reward herself. Also, she was -anxious to assist Mrs. Warrender, who in spite of her vulgarity and -somewhat covetous disposition, was really a well-meaning woman.</p> - -<p>The result of this was that two rewards were offered--one thousand for -the detection of the person who had stolen the body, and a like sum -for any information likely to lead to the arrest of Warrender's -murderer. So here were two thousand pounds going a-begging, and -hundreds of people hoped to have a chance of gaining the money. The -case was so strange and mysterious that it had attracted not a little -attention, and the fact that the missing body was that of a -millionaire added to the interest excited by the fact of its -disappearance. The London papers were full of leaders and letters -suggesting solutions of the mystery. The provincial press took up the -cry, and throughout the three kingdoms every one was talking of the -case. It was even said that Miss Marlow, the present possessor of all -this wealth, would marry the person who secured the thief and the -murderer.</p> - -<p>"I won't marry you, Alan dear, until my father's body is back in the -vault," said Sophy; "but at the same time, I won't marry any one -else."</p> - -<p>"But suppose I fail to find the body, Sophy?"</p> - -<p>"Then I must remain a spinster for the rest of my life."</p> - -<p>"In that case you condemn me to be a crusty old bachelor."</p> - -<p>"Never mind. We can still be friends and lovers."</p> - -<p>"I'd rather we were man and wife," sighed Alan.</p> - -<p>But he did not believe that she would cling to this idea of perpetual -spinsterhood for any length of time. As for Miss Vicky, she thought -Sophy mad to have thought of such a thing, and took her roundly to -task.</p> - -<p>"A woman ought to marry," she said, breaking through the barriers of -her ordinary primness. "Do you think, if my darling had lived, I -should now be a wretched old maid? No, indeed! It would have been my -delight to have been an obedient and loving wife to Edward."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I wish he had lived!" cried Sophy, embracing her; "and I -won't have you call yourself crabbed. You are the sweetest, dearest -woman in the world!"</p> - -<p>"So poor Edward thought," sighed Miss Vicky, fingering the precious -brooch which always decorated some portion of her small person. "Alas -the day! How often he told me so! But he died for his country on the -field of glory," she cried, with a thrill of pride; "and in spite of -my lonely old age, I don't grudge his precious blood. Noble--noble -Edward!" and she wept.</p> - -<p>"Don't cry any more, Vicky."</p> - -<p>"It's your obstinacy I'm crying at, Sophia. If your poor dear pa's -remains are not found within a certain time, marry Mr. Thorold and be -happy."</p> - -<p>"I can't--I won't. How can I be happy knowing poor father isn't at -rest?"</p> - -<p>"His soul is at rest--the earthly tabernacle is nothing. Come, Sophia, -don't break with your life's happiness!"</p> - -<p>"Alan and I understand one another, Vicky. I dare say we shall marry -some day. But the body must be found."</p> - -<p>"Lord grant it!" ejaculated Miss Vicky piously, and said no more. For -she found that the more she argued the more obstinate Sophy grew.</p> - -<p>Amongst those who had hopes of gaining the reward was Cicero. He had -come out of the ordeal of a public examination unscathed, and was now -in the possession of his well-earned fifty pounds. Being anxious to -remain in Heathton for the purpose of prosecuting his inquiries, he -magnanimously forgave Mrs. Timber, and took up his quarters at the -Good Samaritan. Now that he had money and paid his bill regularly, the -good lady considered it politic to treat him with more civility, -although, after the manner of women, she felt constrained to remind -him, every now and again, of his former poverty. But these remarks did -not affect Mr. Gramp in the least. He regarded her no more than if she -had been a fly, and sailed about the village in a suit of new -broadcloth and the best of tall hats, airing his eloquence. He became -an attraction at the inn, and discoursed there every evening in fine -style.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Warrender was much averse to his staying on at Heathton. She -lived in constant dread lest the relationship between them should be -discovered. But Cicero never mentioned it--nor did he ever mention -her. Still, she felt doubtful, and one evening, on the plea that she -wished to hear more of what he knew about her husband's murder, she -sent for him. He arrived to find her in a low evening dress, -glittering with diamonds, and looking very handsome--so handsome, -indeed, that even he could not refrain from giving vent to his -admiration.</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, you are a Juno, Clara Maria!" he said, when they were -alone. "There is money in you yet!"</p> - -<p>"I know what you mean, Billy," replied the doctor's widow coldly, "but -I'm not going on the stage again in burlesque or anything else."</p> - -<p>"How are you going to live?" he asked with brutal candor.</p> - -<p>"That's my business," retorted Mrs. Warrender. "I have enough to live -on, even without selling my jewels. Perhaps I shall marry again."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you will, Clara Maria. You always were a determined woman."</p> - -<p>"Hold your tongue, and tell me how much longer do you intend to -disgrace me here?"</p> - -<p>"How can I tell you, if I am to hold my tongue?" said Cicero coolly. -"As to staying here, I'm not disgracing you that I know of. No one -knows you are my ungrateful sister."</p> - -<p>"Billy, if I wasn't a lady, I'd---- Ungrateful, indeed, you brute! Go -away at once!"</p> - -<p>"No, Clara Maria, not till I find out who killed my brother-in-law. I -never knew him," said Cicero, wiping away a tear; "but as his nearest -relative, I must avenge him."</p> - -<p>"That won't do, Billy," said his sister sourly; "you only want the -reward."</p> - -<p>"Both rewards, Clara Maria. With two thousand pounds I could be a -gentleman for the rest of my life."</p> - -<p>"That you will never be."</p> - -<p>"I would do nothing----"</p> - -<p>"You never have, you lazy vagabond!"</p> - -<p>"Don't interrupt and insult me, Clara Maria, but work with me."</p> - -<p>"Work with you?" gasped Mrs. Warrender. "At what?"</p> - -<p>"At this case, Clara Maria. I believe that the secret of this mystery -is to be found in the island of Jamaica--in the past life of Mr. -Marlow. Now, your husband knew the late lamented millionaire in -Jamaica, and he might have left some papers relative to the -acquaintance. If so, let me see them, and I'll get on the track of the -assassin. We will share the reward."</p> - -<p>"My husband did leave papers," Mrs. Warrender said thoughtfully, "but -I won't show them to you, Billy. You'd take all the money. No, I'll -read his papers myself, and if I can find anything likely to reveal -the name of the person who stole the body and murdered Julian, I shall -tell Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"You won't get the reward!" cried Cicero in an agony.</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, I will; I'm as clever as you are, Billy. Thank you for the -idea!"</p> - -<p>"You won't work with me?"</p> - -<p>"No," said she firmly, "I won't; I know you of old, and I want you to -keep out of my way. Leave this village and I'll give you twenty -pounds."</p> - -<p>"What! when there is a chance to make two thousand! No, Clara Maria."</p> - -<p>"Then earn the reward yourself. There's Joe Brill, he might tell you -what you want to know," mocked Mrs. Warrender. "My husband said he was -with Marlow for thirty years."</p> - -<p>"I wish I could ask Joe Brill," said Cicero gloomily. "Ever since he -tipped me the sovereign I have suspected Joe Brill; but he's gone!"</p> - -<p>"Gone! Gone where?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I only heard the news to-night. He's gone away without a -word, and vanished!" And Cicero groaned.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_11" href="#div1Ref_11">CHAPTER XI.</a></h4> -<h5>THE STRANGER</h5> -<br> - -<p>That Joe Brill had disappeared from Heathton was perfectly true. So -far Cicero was correct; but in stating that the man had vanished -without a sign he was wrong. News--to be precise, gossip--travels more -quickly in a village than in a town; it also gets more quickly -distorted. For the intimacy of villagers is such that they are readier -than less acquainted folk to take away from, or add to, any talk about -those whose everyday life they know so well.</p> - -<p>Joe Brill had left a letter for Sophy, who, in much alarm, consulted -Miss Parsh. The consultation was overheard by the footman, who told -the servants, without mentioning the letter, about which he was not -very clear himself, having caught only scraps of the conversation. The -kitchen discussed the news, and retailed it to the baker, who, with -the assistance of his wife, a noted gossip, spread it broadcast over -the village. Thus, in the evening, it came to Cicero's greedy ears; -and so it was that he came to tell his sister that Joe Brill had -disappeared without a sign. Sophy knew better.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it dreadful?" she said to Miss Vicky. "Joe is very cruel to -leave me like this in my trouble. He knows that I look upon him as one -of my best friends. To be thirty years with father, and then to leave -me! Oh, dear Vicky, what does it mean?"</p> - -<p>For answer, Miss Vicky read the letter aloud. It was badly written, -and badly spelt; but it was short and to the point. Amended it ran as -follows:</p> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:5%">"<span class="sc">Honored Miss</span>,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:10%">"I am called away on business which may turn out well for you. When -I'll come back, miss, I don't know; but wait in hope. Stand by and -nail your colors to the mast. Don't trust no one but Mr. Thorold. Your -prayers, honored miss, are requested for your humble servant,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:5%">"<span class="sc">Joseph Brill</span>."</p> -<br> - -<p>"Most extraordinary!" said Miss Vicky, and laid down the letter to -gaze blankly at Sophy.</p> - -<p>"I shall go mad with all this worry!" cried the poor girl, taking the -letter. "Oh, dear Vicky, everything has gone wrong since father died."</p> - -<p>"Hush! Don't talk of it, Sophia. Your pa's remains have gone, but his -soul is above. Dr. Warrender has been buried, and the verdict of -twelve intelligent men has been given. We must think no more of these -matters. But Joseph's letter----"</p> - -<p>"Is more of a mystery than all the rest put together," finished Sophy. -"Just listen to the nonsense Joe writes: 'I'm called away on -business.' What business, Vicky?--and how can it turn out well for me? -He doesn't know when he'll come back; that means he won't come back at -all. 'Wait in hope.' Hope of what, for goodness' sake, Vicky? And -Alan--of course, I'll trust no one but Alan. How absurd to put that -in! Then he finishes by asking my prayers, just as though he were -going to die. Vicky, is Joe mad?"</p> - -<p>"No; Joseph is too clear-headed a man to lose his wits. It's my -opinion, Sophia, that he's gone to search for your poor papa's -remains."</p> - -<p>This was Alan's opinion also when he read the letter, and heard of -Joe's disappearance. He questioned the servants, but they could give -no details. The page, who slept in the same room, declared that he -woke at six o'clock to find Joe's bed empty; but this did not alarm -him, as Joe was always the first in the house to be up. So Alan went -to the railway-station, and learnt there that the old sailor, carrying -some things tied up in a handkerchief, had taken the 6.30 train to the -junction. A wire to the junction station-master, who knew Joe, -elicited the reply that he had gone on to London by the express. -Beyond this it was hopeless to attempt to trace him; for at Waterloo -Station Joe had vanished into the crowd, and was lost. Alan told the -lamenting Sophy that nothing could now be done but wait for his -return.</p> - -<p>"But will he return?" demanded the girl tearfully.</p> - -<p>"I think so. I agree with Miss Vicky: Joe has gone to search for your -father's body."</p> - -<p>"But he has no idea where it is. If he did, he would surely have told -me or you, Alan, knowing how anxious we are!"</p> - -<p>"He may have a clue, and may want to follow it up himself. And I -believe, Sophy, that Joe knows more about the matter than we think. Do -you remember that he gave Cicero a sovereign to leave the Moat House?"</p> - -<p>"What of that?"</p> - -<p>"Only that a sovereign was a large sum for a servant like Joe to give. -He thought, no doubt, that Cicero knew too much, and he wanted to get -him away before he could be questioned. It was his guilty conscience -which made him so generous."</p> - -<p>"Guilty conscience, Alan? What had Joe done?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, so far as I know," replied Thorold readily. "But I am -convinced there is something in your father's past life, Sophy, which -would account for the violation of the vault. Joe knows it, but for -some reason he won't tell. I questioned him about the ridiculous sum -he gave to Cicero, but I could get no satisfactory explanation out of -him--nor could Blair."</p> - -<p>"You don't think he was the short man with Dr. Warrender on that -night, Alan?" asked the girl somewhat tremulously.</p> - -<p>"No, I do not; I asked the boy who sleeps in the same room. He said -that Joe went to bed as usual, and that he never heard him go out. -Besides, Sophy, I am certain the accomplice of Warrender was Brown."</p> - -<p>"The Quiet Gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; he had the key of the vault. And also, by the evidence of the -stamp, he had something to do with Jamaica. Perhaps he knew your -father there."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he did. Joe would know."</p> - -<p>"Joe will not speak, and, at all events, he has gone. We must wait -until he comes back."</p> - -<p>"Are you not going to make any more search for the body, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"My dearest, I have not the slightest idea where to begin. The case -has baffled the police, and it baffles me. I have made inquiries all -round the country, and I can find no one who saw Brown with your -father's dead body, or, indeed, anything else which might have aroused -suspicion. There is only one hope that we may get it back."</p> - -<p>"The reward?"</p> - -<p>"No; although Blair, and, I believe, Cicero, intend to work for that. -The hope lies in the chance that Brown, whoever he is, may have taken -away the body for blackmail. In that case we may get a letter -demanding money--probably a large sum. We must pay it, and have your -father's remains brought back."</p> - -<p>"And the murder, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! that is a difficult part. When Brown stole the body he did not -intend to commit murder; that came about in some unforeseen way. The -danger that he may be arrested for the murder may keep Brown from -applying for blackmail, always supposing, Sophy, that such is his -object."</p> - -<p>"In that case we may never recover poor father."</p> - -<p>"I am afraid not. However, we must live in hope."</p> - -<p>This conversation ended in the usual unsatisfactory way. On the face -of it there was nothing to be done, for Alan could obtain no clue. -Brown, if Brown were indeed the guilty person, had managed so cleverly -that he had completely cut his trail. Even the offer of the reward -brought forth no fresh information. The mystery was more a mystery -than ever.</p> - -<p>In his capacity of trustee, Alan had looked through the papers of the -dead man. He found no documents or letters whatever relating to his -life in Jamaica, yet there were plenty dealing with his doings in -South Africa. Twenty years before he had left Kingston with the child -Sophy. He brought her to England, and placed her in the Hampstead -convent. Then he sailed for the Cape, and had made his fortune there. -Fifteen years after he returned, to buy the Moat House, and settled. -Sophy came to live with him, and he had passed a quiet, peaceful time -until his sudden death. So far all was clear; but the Jamaica life -still remained a mystery. When he died he was over sixty. What had he -done with himself during the forty years he had lived in the West -Indies? Joe could have told; but Joe, as mysterious as his master, had -disappeared, and even if he had remained, Alan could have got nothing -out of him. The old sailor, as had been proved both by Thorold and the -inspector, was as dumb as an oyster.</p> - -<p>"Did Marlow ever mention Jamaica?" Alan asked Mr. Phelps, when next -they met.</p> - -<p>"Once or twice, in a casual sort of way. He said he had sailed a good -deal amongst the islands."</p> - -<p>"And Joe was a sailor. I wonder if Marlow went in for trading there?"</p> - -<p>"It's not impossible," said the Rector; "but that fact, even if we -knew it to be true, could throw no light on the disappearance of his -body."</p> - -<p>"I don't know. I have a good mind to go to Jamaica--to Kingston--to -make inquiries. The West Indian Island area is not so very large. If -Marlow had been a trader there twenty years ago, he would still be -remembered amongst them. I might come across some one who knew of his -past life."</p> - -<p>"You might," assented Phelps, with an amount of sarcasm surprising in -so mild a man, "if Marlow were his real name."</p> - -<p>The two were sitting over their wine in the twilight amid the glimmer -of shaded candles. This last remark of the Rector's so surprised Alan, -that he turned suddenly, and knocked his glass off the table. After he -had apologized for the accident, and after the débris had been -collected by the scandalized butler, the Squire asked Mr. Phelps what -he meant.</p> - -<p>"It is hard to say what I mean." The Rector sipped his port -meditatively. "Marlow was always a mystery to me. Undeniably a -millionaire and a gentleman, Alan, and while here a man of clean life. -And I have met people in London"--the worthy parson dabbled a little -in shares--"who knew him in South Africa. He was highly respected -there, and he made his millions honestly, so far as millions can be -made honestly in these gambling days. But I always felt that there was -some mystery about the man. It was Warrender who gave me the clue."</p> - -<p>"Ah! Warrender came with Marlow to Heathton."</p> - -<p>"Yes, but there was no mystery about that. Warrender told me that he -had met Marlow at Kingston, Jamaica. Afterwards the doctor settled in -New Orleans. There he met his wife, who was on the stage. He did not -do very well, so Mrs. Warrender urged him to return to England. He did -so, and met Marlow by chance in London, where they renewed their -acquaintance. Sorry to see that Warrender was so unfortunate, Marlow -brought him down here, where he did very well."</p> - -<p>"I don't think he did well enough to have supplied Mrs. Warrender with -her diamonds, sir."</p> - -<p>"Alan, don't speak evil of the dead. She did not get the diamonds from -Marlow, but legitimately, my dear boy, from her husband."</p> - -<p>"And where did he get them? His practice must have brought him in -little enough."</p> - -<p>"No, I won't say that. The fact, I think, is that there was some -understanding between the two men, and that Marlow gave Warrender -money."</p> - -<p>"He must have given him a good deal, then. Those jewels represent a -lot. Seems like a kind of blackmail, sir."</p> - -<p>"On that point, Alan, I would prefer not to give an opinion."</p> - -<p>"And Warrender helped to steal the body of his patron," mused Alan. -"Strange. But about this idea of a false name."</p> - -<p>"Well, it was at dinner one evening. The ladies had retired, and I was -alone with Marlow and Warrender, talking over our wine, just as you -and I might be now, Alan. The doctor had taken a little too much, and -on one occasion he addressed the other man as Beauchamp. Marlow -flashed one fierce glance at him, which sobered him at once. I made no -remark on the incident at the time, but it stuck in my memory."</p> - -<p>"Then you think that Mr. Marlow was called Beauchamp in Jamaica?"</p> - -<p>"Warrender's slip gave me that impression," said the Rector -cautiously.</p> - -<p>"How very strange!" murmured Alan, toying with his glass. "Do you know -the will? Of course, I am trustee."</p> - -<p>"Sophy's trustee--why, yes. All the money goes to her, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Most of it. There are legacies to myself, Joe Brill, and Miss Parsh. -Sophy gets the rest, on conditions."</p> - -<p>"What conditions?"</p> - -<p>"One is that she marries me, the other that she pays two thousand a -year to a man called Herbert Beauchamp."</p> - -<p>It was the Rector's turn to be startled.</p> - -<p>"Bless me, the same name!"</p> - -<p>"It would appear so. Perhaps this Herbert Beauchamp is a relative of -the so-called Marlow. The money is to be paid into the Occidental Bank -of London for transmission to him."</p> - -<p>"Where is he?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. But now that you have told me so much, I shall take the -first instalment myself to the Occidental Bank and make inquiries -about the man. The manager may be able in some measure to account for -all this."</p> - -<p>"I hope so, I hope so," cried the bewildered Rector, "for the -mysteries seem to me to deepen."</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile," went on Alan calmly, "I shall see Mrs. Warrender. She may -know something that will be useful to us."</p> - -<p>"I don't think so," the Rector said doubtfully. "Bless me, why should -she? It was long afterwards that she met the doctor in New Orleans."</p> - -<p>"Well, he might have told her about Marlow. At all events, I'll see -her. You know," added Alan, curling his lip, "Mrs. Warrender is fond -of money, and amenable to bribery."</p> - -<p>Thorold was usually correct in his forecasts of what would happen, but -this time he was quite wrong. The widow received him kindly, and told -him absolutely nothing. Acting on the advice given her by Cicero, she -had been searching through the papers of her late husband. She had not -found what she sought, but she had found quite enough to show that -there was a mystery in Mr. Marlow's past life--a mystery which was -sufficiently important to be worth money. It was the intention of this -astute woman to play her own game, a game which had for stake a goodly -portion of Sophy's millions, and she had no desire for a partner. To -Cicero and to his wish to join her she soon gave the go-by. And when -Alan came upon the scene, she gave him to understand that she knew -nothing. Her intention was to prepare her bombshell alone, and when it -was ready, to explode it in Sophy's presence. That her knowledge would -be profitable to her from a financial point of view she felt pretty -secure, for the same blood ran in the veins of Clara Maria Warrender -and of Cicero Gramp.</p> - -<p>"I wish I could help you, Mr. Thorold," she said; "but I knew nothing -of Mr. Marlow. My husband never spoke to me about his life in -Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"Did he leave any papers?"</p> - -<p>"Lots of rubbish, but nothing that could enlighten us as to Mr. -Marlow's past."</p> - -<p>"Can I see them?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I am so sorry, but I burnt them."</p> - -<p>He did not believe her, and went away with the conviction that she was -playing a deep game. Meanwhile a new personage had come upon the -scene--a man who told an astonishing story, and who made a no less -astonishing claim--a slight, dark, bright-eyed man, accurately -dressed, but foreign looking. He presented his card at the Moat House, -with a request to see Miss Marlow.</p> - -<p>"Captain Lestrange!" exclaimed Sophy. "Who is he, Thomas?"</p> - -<p>"Looks like a foreigner, miss. Shall I show him in?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said; and the visitor was announced almost immediately.</p> - -<p>He started theatrically when he saw the girl. Sophy, annoyed by his -manner, drew back.</p> - -<p>"Captain Lestrange?" she queried coldly.</p> - -<p>"Captain Lestrange," was the reply, "and your father."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_12" href="#div1Ref_12">CHAPTER XII.</a></h4> -<h5>A STRANGE STORY</h5> -<br> - -<p>Sophy neither screamed nor fainted at this extraordinary announcement; -indeed, it appeared to her so very ridiculous that she felt more -inclined to laugh. However, she controlled her feelings, and spoke -very quietly--so quietly that the visitor was somewhat disconcerted.</p> - -<p>"Why do you make this strange assertion?" she asked, looking again at -his card.</p> - -<p>"Because it is true."</p> - -<p>"What proof can you give me of its truth?"</p> - -<p>"Three proofs, Sophy, if I may call----"</p> - -<p>"You may not!" interrupted the girl, flushing. "I am Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"For the present," assented the man, with an ironical smile. "Soon you -will be Miss Lestrange. Three proofs, then, I have. Firstly, I can -tell you the story of how I lost you; secondly, there is the -resemblance between us; and, thirdly, I have the certificate of your -birth. Oh, it is easily proved, I can assure you."</p> - -<p>She shivered. He spoke very positively. What if his claim could be -substantiated? She looked at him; she glanced into a near mirror, and -she saw with dismay that there <i>was</i> a strong resemblance. Like -herself, Lestrange, as he called himself, was slight in build, small -in stature. He also had dark hair and brilliant eyes; the contour of -his face, the chiseling of his features, resembled her own. Finally, -he had that Spanish look which she knew she herself possessed. So far -as outward appearances went, she might well have been the daughter of -this rakish-looking stranger. He smiled. From her furtive glance into -the mirror he guessed her thoughts.</p> - -<p>"You see the glass proclaims the truth," said he. "Think of your -supposed father, Richard Marlow--tall, fair, blue-eyed, Saxon in -looks! Like myself, you have the Spanish look and possess all the -grace and color of Andalusia. I always thought you would grow up -beautiful. Your dear mother was the loveliest woman in Jamaica."</p> - -<p>She did not answer, but the color ebbed from her cheeks, the courage -from her heart. It was true enough that she in no way resembled Mr. -Marlow. This man might be her father, after all. Yet he repelled her; -the glance of his glittering eyes gave her a feeling of repulsion. He -was a bad man, of that she felt certain. But her father? She fought -against her doubts, and with a courage born of despair she prepared to -defend herself until help arrived. Her thoughts flew to Alan; he was -the champion she desired.</p> - -<p>"I expect my guardian, Mr. Thorold, in a quarter of an hour," she said -in a hard voice. "You will be good enough to relate your story to him. -I prefer to hear it when he is present."</p> - -<p>"You don't believe me?"</p> - -<p>"No, I do not. Mr. Marlow treated me as his daughter, and I feel -myself to be his daughter. Do you expect me to believe you, to rush -into your arms without proof?"</p> - -<p>"I have shown you one proof."</p> - -<p>"A chance resemblance counts for nothing. What about the certificate?"</p> - -<p>He produced a pocketbook, and took out a piece of paper.</p> - -<p>"This is a copy of the entry in the register of the Church of St. -Thomas at Kingston, You will find it all correct, Marie."</p> - -<p>"Marie! What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"That paper will inform you," said Lestrange coolly.</p> - -<p>Sophy read the certificate. Truly, it seemed regular enough. It stated -that on the 24th of June, 18--, was born at Kingston, in the island of -Jamaica, Marie Annette Celestine Lestrange. The names of the parents -were Achille Lestrange and Zelia, his wife. Sophy could not suppress a -start. The 24th of June was her birthday; the date of the year was -also correct. She was twenty-one years of age now. She turned to him.</p> - -<p>"You are Achille Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>"Your father--yes."</p> - -<p>"I don't admit that, monsieur."</p> - -<p>"Why do you call me 'monsieur'?"</p> - -<p>"You are French, are you not?"</p> - -<p>"French by descent, if you will, but I am a British subject. Also, I -am a Roman Catholic. You are of the same faith?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am of the true Faith."</p> - -<p>"I am glad of that," said Lestrange indolently; he was as indolent as -graceful, and reminded Sophy of a full-fed tiger. "I am pleased to -hear that Marlow allowed you to retain your faith since he took from -you your father and your name."</p> - -<p>"Do you know that my father is dead?"</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, he is alive, and sitting before you."</p> - -<p>Sophy ignored his remark.</p> - -<p>"Do you know that Mr. Marlow is dead?" she asked again.</p> - -<p>"Ah! now you speak as you should. Yes, I heard something about his -death. The fact is, I have only just landed from a Royal Mail steamer -at Southampton--two days ago, in fact--so I know very little. But I -have heard of the disappearance of his body. It is town talk in -London. One cannot open a newspaper without coming across theories of -how it happened."</p> - -<p>"And the murder of Dr. Warrender? Do you know of that also?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. The two things go together, as I understand. Marlow's body -is lost; Warrender was stabbed. How unfortunate that two people I knew -should be out of the way when I come to claim you!"</p> - -<p>"Did you know Dr. Warrender?" asked Sophy quickly.</p> - -<p>"As I know myself," was the answer. "Twenty years ago, when you were a -child, a mere infant, he practised in the town of Falmouth, Jamaica. -He left after certain events which happened there, and, I believe, -practised again in New Orleans. He married there, too, it was said."</p> - -<p>"Yes; his wife lives at Heathton."</p> - -<p>"Ah! I shall be glad to see her. Has the man who murdered her husband -been discovered?"</p> - -<p>"No; he cannot be found."</p> - -<p>"Nor ever will be, I suspect," said Captain Lestrange coolly. "From -what I read, the whole criminal business was conducted in the most -skilful manner. I wonder why they stole poor Dick's body."</p> - -<p>"Poor Dick!" retorted the girl indignantly. "Are you speaking of my -father?"</p> - -<p>"Of the man who passed as your father--yes, Marie, I am."</p> - -<p>"Pray don't call me Marie! I am Sophia Marlow."</p> - -<p>"As you please. Temper again! Oh, how you remind me of Zelia!"</p> - -<p>She was confounded at the cool assurance of the man. Nothing seemed to -ruffle his temper or banish his eternal smile. He was more hateful to -her than ever. Never would she acknowledge herself his daughter, even -should he prove his claim! She was of age, and her own mistress. The -will of Richard Marlow left the money, not to "my daughter," but to -"Sophia Marlow," so there was no possibility of the money being taken -from her. Then she thought of Alan. He would stand between her and -this man. And even as this thought came into her mind, the door -opened, and Thorold came forward eagerly to meet her; but, on -perceiving the stranger, he stopped short. Lestrange rose and bowed in -a foreign fashion.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Alan!" cried Sophy, "I am so glad you have come! I was waiting -for you."</p> - -<p>"And I also," remarked Lestrange.</p> - -<p>"Who is this gentleman, Sophy?" demanded Alan.</p> - -<p>"He calls himself Captain Lestrange. Here is his card."</p> - -<p>"Captain in the army of the Peruvian Republic," said the man, "and -this young lady's father!"</p> - -<p>"Confound you!--what--what----!"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, Alan. He says he is my father--that my true father stole me -from him. Here is the certificate of my birth, he says."</p> - -<p>"And here"--Lestrange pointed to Sophy--"here is my second self. Can -you deny the resemblance? By the way, who are you?"</p> - -<p>The inquiry was made with graceful insolence, and was meant to provoke -the young man into losing his temper. But in this it failed.</p> - -<p>"I am Alan Thorold," he said quietly, "the Squire of Heathton, and I -am engaged to marry Miss Marlow----"</p> - -<p>"Pardon--Mademoiselle Lestrange," interpolated the Captain, and -resumed his seat. "I claim this young lady as my daughter."</p> - -<p>"Good," said Thorold coldly. "Your proofs?"</p> - -<p>"The resemblance between us, the certificate of her birth, and the -story of how I lost my dear Marie twenty years ago."</p> - -<p>"The resemblance I admit, but that goes for nothing. As to the -certificate, it is that of Marie Lestrange, and not of Sophy Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Is not the birthday of Miss Marlow, as you will call her, on the 24th -of June----"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Sophy, before Alan could stop her. "The day and the year -are both correct. I am twenty-one, and I was born on the 24th of June, -18--."</p> - -<p>"Very good; and at Kingston?"</p> - -<p>"At Kingston," admitted the girl; "but, for all that, I am not your -daughter."</p> - -<p>"I agree with Miss Marlow," said Mr. Thorold. "Let us hear your story. -That it will convince me I do not promise."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" cried the foreigner, with an ironical smile. "None so blind as -those who won't see. What a pity that Marlow and Warrender are both -dead!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you know that?"</p> - -<p>"As I had the honor of telling Miss Marlow"--Lestrange put so sneering -an accent on the name that Alan felt inclined to kick him--"I know -that. I landed in England from Jamaica only two days ago. But, as you -know, every one is talking of the mystery, and by this time I know the -case as well as you do."</p> - -<p>Alan winced, and Sophy glanced at him apprehensively. Would her -champion fail her? Would this man prove his claim? She was in deadly -terror lest he should. But Alan had no intention of yielding.</p> - -<p>"Go on," he said again. "Miss Marlow and I will hear your story."</p> - -<p>"Very good. I am glad to see that you have the British instinct of -fair play. I will be as brief as possible, and you can ask me any -questions you wish. My name is Achille Lestrange, the man who is -mentioned in that certificate. I am--or, rather, I was--a Captain in -the Peruvian Army. I retired after the war between that country and -Chili. However, I have ample means to live on, and I retain my -military rank, out of sheer vanity, if you will."</p> - -<p>"All this," said Alan, "is beside the point."</p> - -<p>"It is necessary to explain my position. More than twenty years ago I -was married at Kingston to Zelia Durand. We had one child--a little -girl--the same who now sits beside you."</p> - -<p>"I won't hear of it!" cried Sophy angrily.</p> - -<p>"We shall see," he went on cheerfully. "You may change your mind when -I have got to the end of my story. I regret to say that Mrs. -Lestrange--I do not call her Madame," explained the Captain, "because -I am truly English in speech and manner--well, Mrs. Lestrange had a -bad temper. We did not get on well together. And, besides, I was -jealous"--his eyes flashed fire--"yes, I was jealous of Herbert -Beauchamp."</p> - -<p>"Herbert Beauchamp!" Alan thought of Marlow's will and of the legacy. -How did this man come to know the name?</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_13" href="#div1Ref_13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></h4> -<h5>A STRANGE STORY--<i>continued</i></h5> -<br> - -<p>Captain Lestrange recovered from his momentary emotion, and raised his -eyebrows at Alan's involuntary exclamation.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"Nothing," said the other hastily. "I fancied the name was familiar."</p> - -<p>"Ah! You may have heard Marlow mention it."</p> - -<p>"No. He never spoke of his past life."</p> - -<p>"He had good reason to be reticent, as you shall hear."</p> - -<p>But here Sophy burst out: "Be good enough to continue your story -without vilifying my father."</p> - -<p>"Your father!" sneered the Captain.</p> - -<p>"The story--the story!" cried Alan.</p> - -<p>"I continue," said Lestrange, with a nod. "As I say, I was jealous of -Beauchamp, for before our marriage he had been an admirer of my -Zelia's. And, as a matter of fact, she was a singularly attractive -woman. You might guess as much," added he blandly, "seeing that her -grace and beauty are reproduced in her daughter. But to continue: -Zelia had many admirers, three of whom she distinguished above the -others--myself, Herbert Beauchamp, and my cousin, Jean Lestrange. I -was the lucky man who won her. Jean ceased to pay any attention to her -after the marriage, but Beauchamp was persistent. I remonstrated with -him--we nearly had a duel--but to no purpose; and I am sorry to say -that Zelia encouraged him."</p> - -<p>"Proceed with your story, and leave my mother alone," cried Sophy.</p> - -<p>Alan started, for he remembered with a pang that Sophy had told him -her mother's name was Zelia; but he kept silent, and a terrible dread -came over him that this man would prove his statements after all.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the narrator went on pleasantly.</p> - -<p>"Beauchamp," he said, fingering his mustache, "was a sugar-planter--at -least, he was supposed to be one. He had a plantation some miles from -the town of Falmouth, which is on the other side of Jamaica. It was -there that Dr. Warrender practised. He was a bachelor in those days, -and he was considered rather a wild fellow. Probably for that reason -he was a bosom friend of Beauchamp's."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to infer that Beauchamp was wild?"</p> - -<p>"Well, not exactly. I must be honest. He was adventuresome rather than -wild. He was fond of yachting, and had a smart sailing boat in which -he used to cruise amongst the islands. Warrender frequently went with -him. Beauchamp was a very handsome man, and extremely popular with -women. I know that to my cost," he added bitterly, "when he set his -affections on Zelia. She was my wife--she was the mother of my -child--yet she eloped with him."</p> - -<p>"I--I--don't believe it," said Sophy in a suffocating voice.</p> - -<p>"If it were not true, my child, you would not be sitting there under -the false name of Sophia Marlow."</p> - -<p>"One moment," put in Alan, clasping the girl's hand, "you have yet to -prove that Miss Marlow is Marie Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"If you would not interrupt so often, I could do so," said the man -insolently. "As I say, Zelia ran away with Beauchamp. He brought his -yacht to Kingston when I was absent, and sailed off with her. She -carried with her my child--my adorable Marie." Here Lestrange fixed an -affectionate look on Sophy. "I returned to find my home dishonored," -he went on, "my life wrecked. Jean came to console me. He also had -heard of Beauchamp's treachery, and that the boat had sailed for -Falmouth. We followed----"</p> - -<p>Here Lestrange broke down. Whether his emotion was genuine or not, -Alan could not say. He looked at Sophy, and she at him. Having fought -down his emotion, the Captain resumed his seat and his story:</p> - -<p>"Jean and I arrived at Falmouth. There we heard that Zelia was very -ill, and that Beauchamp had taken her to his plantation. Dr. -Warrender, our informant said, was in attendance. The whole town knew -that she was my wife, that she had dishonored me, and that I was on my -may to settle accounts with the man who had wrecked my happiness. My -cousin and I rode out to Beauchamp's plantation, for it was within a -few miles of Falmouth, as I said. The night was dark and stormy--we -arrived in pouring rain, and by the wailing of the negroes we knew -that death was in the house. Yes"--he grew dramatic--"Zelia was dead; -torture, remorse, sorrow, had brought about her punishment!"</p> - -<p>"You are very ready to condemn her," said Alan.</p> - -<p>"She had dishonored me!" cried the man, waxing melodramatic. "It was -well that she should die. I rushed away to her room, where she lay -calm in death, and Jean remained to arrange matters with Beauchamp. I -challenged him to a duel. Jean was my second. But Beauchamp refused to -fight, and--he murdered Jean."</p> - -<p>"Murdered your cousin?" queried Alan skeptically.</p> - -<p>"Yes. I was praying beside my wife's bed. I heard cries for help, and -when I came out I found Jean dead, stabbed to the heart by Beauchamp. -The scoundrel had fled--he had taken my child with him."</p> - -<p>"Why should he have encumbered himself with the child?"</p> - -<p>"To wring my heart!" replied Lestrange savagely. "He knew that I loved -my little Marie. He carried her away. I would have followed, but all -my troubles and the shock of Zelia's death brought on an attack of -fever. I rose from my bed weeks later to hear that Beauchamp had -vanished. On the night he committed the double crimes of murder and -kidnapping he went on board his yacht at Falmouth, and was never heard -of again. I searched for him everywhere, but without success."</p> - -<p>"What about his estate?" asked Alan.</p> - -<p>"There he has been cunning. It seemed that he had long since planned -to elope with Zelia, and that some weeks before he had sold his land. -He took the money with him, and the child. Had Zelia been alive she -would have gone too. As months and years went by, I gave up hope, and -I believed that the yacht had foundered."</p> - -<p>Suddenly Sophy got up, much agitated.</p> - -<p>"I can listen to this no longer," she said. "You are telling lies."</p> - -<p>"Her mother's temper," muttered Lestrange. "Zelia's masterly way of -crushing argument."</p> - -<p>"Don't call her my mother!" cried Sophy. "I won't have it. I am not -the child that was taken away by Beauchamp. I never knew any one of -that name."</p> - -<p>"Probably not," replied Lestrange smoothly. "There were reasons for -its being kept from you. But Mr. Thorold----"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold is waiting to hear the end of the story," said that -gentleman coolly. "I have yet to hear who Beauchamp is and how you -traced him."</p> - -<p>"This is mere evasion." The Captain was losing his temper somewhat. -"You know who the man is as well as I do."</p> - -<p>"I am waiting to hear how you connect the two."</p> - -<p>"What two?" asked Miss Marlow.</p> - -<p>But in her own heart she knew the answer. Yet, like a loyal soul, she -kept true to the memory of the dead.</p> - -<p>Lestrange took no notice of her.</p> - -<p>"You are either very dull or very cunning," he said addressing Alan -pointedly. "The latter, I think. How did I find Beauchamp again? In a -curious way. I saw an illustrated paper in Jamaica, which gave a -portrait of the famous South African millionaire, Richard Marlow. The -face had on its right cheek a jagged scar. Jean gave that scar to -Beauchamp with his diamond ring. No doubt it was the drawing of blood -which led to the murder."</p> - -<p>"Then you assert that Marlow was none other than Herbert Beauchamp?"</p> - -<p>"I do. Also that Sophia Marlow is my child whom he carried away. I -have mourned her for twenty years. By the accident of the illustrated -paper I have traced her. At Southampton I heard of Marlow's death, so -I knew that he had escaped punishment on earth. But at least I have -found my dear child Marie."</p> - -<p>"I am not your child!" she cried. "I will never acknowledge you as my -father."</p> - -<p>"In that case"--Lestrange rose to his feet and looked very stern--"I -must appeal to the law."</p> - -<p>Alan laughed.</p> - -<p>"The law can't help you," he said. "Sophy is over age and her own -mistress. Even if you can prove your case, you cannot force her to go -with you."</p> - -<p>"Natural affection----"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk to me about natural affection!" cried the girl. "I know -nothing about you. Nothing in the world will make me go with you!"</p> - -<p>"But if I tell my story to the world?" cried Lestrange, hinting a -threat.</p> - -<p>"Tell it, by all means," said Thorold, putting his arm round Sophy. -"You can hurt only the memory of the dead. Even if Marlow, as you -assert, killed your cousin, he is dead, and beyond your reach."</p> - -<p>"Are you so sure he is dead?" sneered the man.</p> - -<p>"Of course we are sure," cried Sophy indignantly. "Didn't I see him -dead in his coffin?"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Lestrange, preparing to go, "it is most extraordinary to -me that he should have died so suddenly and so conveniently. His body, -too, has been stolen. That also is convenient."</p> - -<p>"Do you mean that he is alive?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He feigned death to escape me."</p> - -<p>"How could he have known that you were coming?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," was the answer, "but I shall find out. It shall be my -business to search for the body of Richard Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Do," said Thorold calmly. "And when you find it you will gain the -reward of a thousand pounds."</p> - -<p>"I shall gain more than that, Mr. Thorold. My daughter----"</p> - -<p>"Never! Never! Leave this house, sir, and don't come near me again!"</p> - -<p>The man moved towards the door. He had picked up the certificate and -put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>"You turn your own father out into the street," he said. "Very good. I -shall take my own means of punishing you for your want of filial -respect. It is to the bad influence of Mr. Thorold that I owe this -reception. Be assured, Mr. Thorold, that I shall not forget it. To -revert to the tongue of my progenitors, I shall say <i>Au revoir</i> but -not 'Adieu.' We shall meet again."</p> - -<p>And clapping on his hat with a jaunty air, Captain Lestrange walked -out of the room.</p> - -<p>When the door had closed after him, Sophy turned to Alan.</p> - -<p>"Do you think this story is true?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"I must admit that there appears to be some truth in it," was the -reply. "The certificate is correct as to your age, your birthday, and -your birthplace, and the name of your mother also is correct."</p> - -<p>"Then, am I that man's daughter?"</p> - -<p>"Not necessarily. He may have assumed the name. He may--oh, I don't -know what to think! But even if he proves his case, you won't go with -him?"</p> - -<p>"Never! never! How can we find out the truth?"</p> - -<p>"Joe might know. I wish he would come back. I wonder if, after all, -your father can be alive--Marlow, I mean."</p> - -<p>"How can that be? We both saw him dead. Dr. Warrender gave a -certificate of the death. Why do you ask?"</p> - -<p>"Well, it is strange. In his will a sum of two thousand a year is left -to be paid to a man called Herbert Beauchamp, through the Occidental -Bank."</p> - -<p>"And he says that my father was Herbert Beauchamp."</p> - -<p>"I know. Can your father have feigned death to avoid him?"</p> - -<p>"Impossible. He did not know Captain Lestrange was coming."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Alan slowly, "there was that West Indian letter which -agitated him so much. It might have been a warning. However, it is no -use theorizing. I'll go to the Occidental Bank, and find out Herbert -Beauchamp."</p> - -<p>"You won't find that he is my own father, Alan; I am sure of that. He -may be a relative. No, no! He is not a murderer! He is dead--quite -dead! I don't believe a word of the story."</p> - -<p>Alan sighed.</p> - -<p>"Time alone can prove its truth or falsehood, Sophy," he said.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_14" href="#div1Ref_14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></h4> -<h5>THE ENMITY OF CAPTAIN LESTRANGE</h5> -<br> - -<p>That same evening the Rector was coming in to dine with Alan. The -young man was glad that he had asked him, for he was anxious to -consult his old friend about the strange tale he had heard, and about -the steps which should be taken to prove its truth or falsity. He -stayed with Sophy till it was nearly six o'clock. Miss Parsh had not -been called into counsel. She was too timid, they thought, and too -likely to lose her head. Moreover, Alan felt that she would give the -girl overmuch sympathy and make her nervous. So he did all the bracing -he could, advised her not to take the old lady into her confidence, -and rode home to the Abbey Farm in the cool twilight.</p> - -<p>As he passed the Good Samaritan, Mrs. Timber came flying out in a -flutter of excitement.</p> - -<p>"Sir! sir! Mr. Thorold!" she called. And then, as he checked his -horse: "Is the gentleman all right? He's a furriner, and I never did -hold as they could pay honest."</p> - -<p>"What are you talking about, Mrs. Timber?" asked the young man, -utterly bewildered.</p> - -<p>"Why, of the gentleman you sent to me, sir."</p> - -<p>"I sent no gentleman. Stay! Do you mean Captain Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, that's his name--a nasty French name. He said you -recommended my house. I'm sure I'm very much obliged, Mr. Thorold." -Here Mrs. Timber dropped her best curtsy and smiled a sour smile. "But -I arsk again, sir, is he good pay?"</p> - -<p>Alan was amazed at the Captain's impudence in making him stand sponsor -for his respectability.</p> - -<p>"I don't know anything about the gentleman, Mrs. Timber," he said, -giving his horse the spur. "He is a stranger to me."</p> - -<p>"Oh, is he?" muttered the landlady to herself as Alan galloped off. -"Well, he don't get nothing out of me till I sees the color of his -money. The idea of giving Mr. Thorold's name when he had no right to! -Ah! I doubt he's a robber of the widder and the orphan. But I'll show -him!"</p> - -<p>And Mrs. Timber, full of wrath, went into her hotel to have it out -with her new lodger.</p> - -<p>Alan rode fast and hard in the waning light, between the flowering -hedgerows--rode to get away from his thoughts. The advent of Lestrange -with his cut-and-dried story, with his accusation of the dead, and his -claim to be Sophy's father, was ominous of evil. Alan had his own -uncomfortable feelings, but of these he decided to tell no one, not -even Phelps, although Phelps was his very good friend. In taking this -resolution, Alan made a very serious mistake--a mistake which he found -out when it was too late to remedy his injudicious silence.</p> - -<p>He had just time to dress for dinner before his guest arrived. Knowing -that Mr. Phelps was dainty in his eating, Mrs. Hester had prepared a -meal such as the good Rector loved. Alan's wine was of the best, and -he did not stint it, so Mr. Phelps addressed himself to the solemn -business of dinner, with the conviction that he would enjoy himself; -and Alan kept his news to himself until they were in the smoking-room. -Then, when his guest was sipping aromatic black coffee and inhaling -the fragrance of an excellent cigar, the young Squire felt compelled -to speak, and exploded his bombshell without further notice.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Phelps, I have unpleasant news," he said, filling his pipe.</p> - -<p>The clergyman looked piteously at the excellent cigar, and took -another sip of the coffee.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Alan, my boy, must you?"</p> - -<p>"You can judge for yourself," replied Alan, unable to suppress a -smile. "Sophy had a visitor to-day."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! Any one connected with these mysteries which so perplex us?"</p> - -<p>"In one way, yes; in another, no. He is a Captain Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Lestrange! Lestrange!" repeated the Rector. "I don't know the name. -Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"Sophy's father!" said Alan simply, and lighted up, while Mr. Phelps -remonstrated:</p> - -<p>"My dear Alan, if this is a jest----"</p> - -<p>"It is no jest, sir, but, I fear, a grim reality. This man comes from -Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"Dear me! Marlow came from Jamaica. Does he know----"</p> - -<p>"He knows all Marlow's past life."</p> - -<p>"The dev--ahem! God forgive me for swearing. And who was Marlow?"</p> - -<p>"According to Lestrange, a murderer."</p> - -<p>Phelps dropped his cigar and stared at his old pupil.</p> - -<p>"Alan, are you mad?"</p> - -<p>"No. At the present moment I am particularly sane. This man says that -Marlow was a murderer, and he himself claims to be Sophy's father. -Take some green Chartreuse, Mr. Phelps, and I'll tell you all about -it."</p> - -<p>The Rector's nerves had received such a shock at the abrupt way in -which Alan had told his news that he very willingly poured himself out -a liqueur. Then he relighted his cigar, and signed to the young man to -proceed.</p> - -<p>"If I must hear it!" sighed he. "Such a pity, too, when I was so -comfortable. Ah! Man is born to trouble. Go on, my dear lad!"</p> - -<p>"You will find it really interesting," said Thorold encouragingly, and -told his story in as concise a way as he could. The narrative was -interrupted frequently by the Rector. When it was ended he was too -much astonished to make any remark, and the other had to stir up his -intelligence. "What do you think of it, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Really--bless me!--I hardly know. Do you believe it, Alan?"</p> - -<p>"There are so many things in it which I know to be true, that I can't -help thinking the man is honest, in so far as his story goes," said -Alan gloomily. "Whether Sophy is really his child I can't say. She is -certainly very like him, and the certificate appears to be genuine. -Again, Mr. Phelps, you heard Warrender call Marlow 'Beauchamp,' and, -as I told you, a sum of two thousand a year is by Marlow's will to be -paid to a Herbert Beauchamp. What if he should be Marlow himself?"</p> - -<p>"I can't--I won't believe it!" cried the Rector, rubbing his bald -head. "The man is as dead as a doornail--you saw the corpse yourself, -Alan. The body was put in a leaden casing, hermetically sealed, and -that in a tightly-screwed-down oaken coffin. Even if Marlow had been -in a trance--if that is what you mean--he could not have survived -that! He would have died of suffocation--he would have been -asphyxiated. Bless my soul! I don't believe it for one moment."</p> - -<p>"But how do you account for the income left to Herbert Beauchamp?"</p> - -<p>"He must be a relative," said the Rector.</p> - -<p>"But the same Christian name, Mr. Phelps? Still, of course, that is -not impossible--he might be a relative. I will see the manager of the -bank, and insist upon knowing the address of this man."</p> - -<p>"Supposing he won't give it?"</p> - -<p>"Then I shall call in the police. I must get to the bottom of this -affair. Why should that body have been stolen?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps Lestrange can tell you, Alan." The little parson jumped -up in a state of wild excitement. "What if he should be the Quiet -Gentleman--Brown?"</p> - -<p>"Impossible--he landed at Southampton only two days ago."</p> - -<p>"Oh! so he says, but you must find out if it is true."</p> - -<p>"I will examine the passenger-list of the last steamer."</p> - -<p>"It is strange," said the Rector--"strange that Marlow--let us call -him Marlow--should have died so opportunely. If you remember, he was -much worried by a West Indian letter he received a week before his -death."</p> - -<p>"Yes; I believe that was written to warn him against Lestrange. To -escape being arrested on a charge of murder, he--he--well, what did he -do."</p> - -<p>"He didn't feign death, at all events," said Mr. Phelps. "Bless me, -Alan! I know the feel and the look of a corpse. I've seen dozens! -Besides, you studied for medicine--your knowledge must tell you----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I could have sworn he was, as you say, dead as a doornail. Of -course"--Alan cast about in his mind for some hypothesis--"that -is--the shock of impending danger hinted at in that letter might have -killed him. He died in a fit, sir, and died very suddenly."</p> - -<p>"Humph! You didn't attend him?"</p> - -<p>"I--a layman! My dear sir, Warrender attended him."</p> - -<p>"And Warrender was his bosom friend in Jamaica. Alan, Warrender must -have recognized him as Beauchamp--must have known Sophy was not his -daughter--must have known that he had been accused of murder in -Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"Quite so," said Alan composedly, "and so Mrs. Warrender's diamonds -are accounted for. He blackmailed Marlow. I can see it plainly."</p> - -<p>"Then the murder of--of Warrender?" whispered the Rector, with a look -of terror.</p> - -<p>"Ah! we are still in the dark about that. Marlow, being dead, could -not have killed him. Humph! I wonder if Lestrange is the Quiet -Gentleman after all!"</p> - -<p>"Alan!" said Phelps suddenly. "Joe Brill!"</p> - -<p>"What about him?"</p> - -<p>"Do you think he is guilty? He was devoted to his master. Warrender -possessed his master's secret, and Joe might have killed him, and have -run away to escape arrest."</p> - -<p>Alan shook his head.</p> - -<p>"There was no suspicion against Joe," he said. "Why should he have run -away?"</p> - -<p>"His guilty conscience, perhaps."</p> - -<p>"A man who had nerve enough to commit such a murder and take the -corpse of his victim back to the vault wouldn't have any conscience to -speak of. Besides, the boy who slept in Joe's room says he was not out -on that night."</p> - -<p>"No, no--of course not," said the Rector. "Then it can't be Joe. Well, -I give it up!"</p> - -<p>"I don't," said Alan grimly. "I go to London to-morrow to solve the -mystery."</p> - -<p>This he did. He left next morning and was away for three days, leaving -Mr. Phelps to console and protect Sophy from any annoyance on the part -of Lestrange, who remained in the village. The Captain propitiated -Mrs. Timber by the payment of a week's board and lodging in advance, -and this was enough to convince the landlady that he was a most -estimable person.</p> - -<p>Naturally enough, he and Cicero Gramp came into contact, and, equally -naturally, Cicero did his best to find out what business the Captain -had in Heathton. But this was no easy task, for Lestrange was guarded -in speech, and did not at first encourage his advances, judging very -truly that Mr. Gramp was a scoundrel, and could be dangerous. But -finally he decided that the gentleman in broadcloth, if properly -handled, could be converted into a useful tool, and he determined to -make use of him in that capacity. The intimacy began one night when -Cicero, having taken more than was good for him, allowed his tongue to -wag more freely than usual. Lestrange thus became aware that it could -dispense useful knowledge.</p> - -<p>"I tell you what it is, my noble Captain," said Cicero, with drunken -gravity, "you are a clever man--I am another. Why shouldn't we get -that reward by working together?"</p> - -<p>"Really, my friend, I hardly see what I can do. I am a stranger here."</p> - -<p>"That's why we ought to work together. You are not in these parts for -nothing. The gossip of servants--ah!" Gramp looked significantly at -Lestrange. "Oh, I heard how you were turned out of the Moat House."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, my dear friend?" asked the Captain, in silky tones.</p> - -<p>"Oh! that you've got some game on--so have I. Let us work together."</p> - -<p>"Pooh! pooh! You are talking nonsense."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense which may mean money. See here, I know that you were kicked -out of the Moat House. Ah! the gossip of menials."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me, but I was not kicked out."</p> - -<p>"You were. Young Thorold did it. He wants all the money, and he'll get -it by marrying that girl--if I let him."</p> - -<p>"If you let him? What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Mean? Why, that I hate young Thorold, and that I want a few -thousands!"</p> - -<p>"Oh! and how do you intend to get them?"</p> - -<p>"Never you mind. If we work together--but, then, we don't. <i>Cedant -arma togæ</i>--which means, you're a soldier, I'm a lawyer--so that's all -right. Goo'night."</p> - -<p>And he staggered off, leaving Lestrange with much food for meditation.</p> - -<p>The outcome of this was that next morning the Captain met Cicero -halfway, and later in the day Sophy received a note from Lestrange -asking to see her. If she would not consent, he added, Mr. Thorold -would be placed in a position of great danger.</p> - -<p>After some reflection Sophy sent for Mr. Phelps, and they decided to -see the scamp. So on a Saturday morning Captain Lestrange was received -in the library of the Rectory.</p> - -<p>"Well, sir," said Phelps, "and what have you to say about Mr. -Thorold?"</p> - -<p>"Only this," was the reply: "that he is a scoundrel!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed!" the Rector stopped Sophy's exclamations. "On what grounds?"</p> - -<p>"On the grounds that it was he who stole the body of Richard Marlow!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_15" href="#div1Ref_15">CHAPTER XV.</a></h4> -<h5>TROUBLE.</h5> -<br> - -<p>The Rector and Sophy looked at one another, and then at Lestrange, -smiling and confident. They knew Alan too well to credit so monstrous -an accusation for one moment. Indeed, the idea appeared so ridiculous -to Sophy that she laughed outright.</p> - -<p>Lestrange frowned.</p> - -<p>"You laugh now," he said. "You will weep later. What I say is true. -Thorold stole the body of your father--your supposed father!" he -sneered, "for, say what you like, you are my child."</p> - -<p>"I don't acknowledge the relationship," retorted the girl with spirit, -"and I never will. Mr. Marlow was my father. I shall always think of -him as such. As to your accusation of Mr. Thorold, it is merely -another trick to cause me trouble. I suppose you will say next that he -murdered Dr. Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"I say nothing of the sort," replied the Captain, nettled by her open -contempt, "yet he may have done so, for all I know. But I state only -what I can prove."</p> - -<p>"You cannot prove this ridiculous charge?" cried the Rector. "Mr. -Thorold is incapable of such a crime."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" drawled the other coolly, "you see, Mr. Thorold is scientific, -and does not look upon his deed as a crime."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Phelps sharply.</p> - -<p>"I mean that Mr. Thorold was once a medical student--at least, I have -been told as much."</p> - -<p>"It is true, quite true," said Sophy, opening her eyes, for in her -innocence she did not see what the man meant. But the Rector did, and -winced. He anticipated the accuser.</p> - -<p>"You mean that Mr. Thorold stole the body for scientific purposes?"</p> - -<p>"For dissection--yes. Mr. Thorold is, I understand, an enthusiast in -surgery. Marlow--or, rather, I should say, Beauchamp--died of an -obscure disease, and Warrender and Thorold removed the body to hold a -post-mortem on it. They were the men seen by Cicero Gramp--you see, I -know all about it. They probably carried the body to the moor hut to -dissect it. Whether they quarreled or not, I do not know, nor do I -know if it was Thorold who killed the doctor. All I say is, that those -two stole the body."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed!" remarked Mr. Phelps ironically, "and Thorold put the -remains of Dr. Warrender back in the vault, I suppose? And what did he -do with Marlow's body?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Buried it on the moor, very likely."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold had not the key of the vault," cried Sophy indignantly. -"It had been stolen by the Quiet Gentleman."</p> - -<p>"So I understand," retorted Lestrange sharply. "And who says so? Mr. -Thorold himself. Believe me, sir," he turned to the Rector, "that key -was never stolen. Thorold had it in his pocket. He lied about that for -his own safety."</p> - -<p>"I don't believe it," said Mr. Phelps decisively. "Thorold was at -Bournemouth on the night the crime was committed."</p> - -<p>"I know he was!" cried Sophy, with emphasis. "He was with me and Miss -Parsh."</p> - -<p>"You are wrong, both of you. He came back to Heathton on that night, -and returned to Bournemouth before dawn. I understand it is only an -hour's journey from here."</p> - -<p>"It is not true," insisted Sophy uneasily. "I saw Mr. Thorold at eight -o'clock that night at the Soudan Hotel."</p> - -<p>"I dare say. But at ten o'clock he was at Heathton."</p> - -<p>"How can you prove that?"</p> - -<p>"If you will permit me," said Lestrange, and rising, he left the room.</p> - -<p>Before Mr. Phelps and Sophy could exchange a remark, he was back again -with a man who had evidently been waiting.</p> - -<p>"Jarks!" cried the Rector, much annoyed. "And what has Jarks to do -with this preposterous story?"</p> - -<p>"If you ask him he will tell you," said Lestrange politely, and -resumed his seat.</p> - -<p>The Rector looked indignantly at his sexton, who, as minor official in -the church, should have quailed before his superior. But there was no -quailing or cringing about Jarks. The old fellow was as malicious as a -magpie, and as garrulous. Looking more rusty than ever, he stood -twisting his greasy old hat, and shifting from one leg to the other.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I seed Muster Alan; yes, I seed un. On the night o' the funeral I -were in the yard, a lookin' at 'em as I'd tucked away, an' I clapped -eyes on Muster Alan. He wor' lookin' at the vault where I'd put away -the last of 'em, he wor."</p> - -<p>"About what time was that?" asked Mr. Phelps, with severity.</p> - -<p>"Well, it might be about ten, Muster Phelps, sir."</p> - -<p>"And what were you doing out of bed at that hour?"</p> - -<p>"Lookin' at 'em," retorted Jarks, wiping his mouth. "Lor' bless you, -Muster Phelps, all in the yard's m'own handiwork save some of the old -uns. I like to see 'em all quiet an' humble in their narrow homes. Ay, -an' I seed Muster Alan, an' he sez, 'I've come to look round, Jarks, -an' you needn't say as I've bin about. Here's money for ye.' Ay, he -did say that, an' guv me money. Course I said nothin' as there isn't -no law agin folk walkin' round to see how them as has passed away is -gettin' along."</p> - -<p>"How long was Mr. Thorold with you?"</p> - -<p>"It might be about five minutes, sir. He went to ketch a train at the -half-hour to go back to Miss Sophy--hopin' I sees you well, miss!" -with a pull of his forelock to the girl, who was standing pale and -trembling at this disastrous confirmation.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you tell me this, Jarks?"</p> - -<p>"Lor' bless you, Miss Sophy, 'twas little use vexin' you. 'Sides, when -I found Muster Marlow was gone, arter bein' put away comfortable-like -in the vault, I did say to Muster Alan arterwards as it wasn't -friendly-like of him to upset my handiwork. But Muster Alan he says as -he had nowt to do with the takin' of him, an' how he got out of the -vault, being screwed and soldered down, was more than he knew. So he -being the squire, Miss Sophy, it wasn't my place to say nothin'. I -knows the station of life I've bin called to."</p> - -<p>"It was your duty to come to me," said the Rector severely.</p> - -<p>"Naw, naw!" Jarks shook his head. "'Tain't no good makin' bad blood, -Muster Phelps. Muster Alan wor in the yard, but he didn't take the -last of 'em away."</p> - -<p>"I say he did!" put in Lestrange, with emphasis.</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay! You thinks you knows a lot. But I tell you, you don't. If it -wasn't that I let slip to that fat un while mazed wi' drink, as I seed -Muster Alan, you'd niver have know'd naught. Naw! But when the wine's -in Jarks he talks foolish-like. Ay, he babbles as a babe does Jarks!"</p> - -<p>"Who is this fat man he speaks of?" asked Sophy.</p> - -<p>"My other witness," replied Lestrange promptly. "You can go, Jarks. -Send in Cicero."</p> - -<p>The sexton nodded, wiped his mouth, and backed to the door with a -final excuse.</p> - -<p>"As I wor sayin', Muster Phelps, 'twouldn't be right to blame Jarks -for holdin' the tongue o' he, Muster Alan wantin' it so. But the red -wine--which is to say, beer an' such like--maketh the heart of Jarks -glad, as sez Holy Scripture. An' I'll go now, wishin' you an' Miss -Sophy happiness an' long life."</p> - -<p>After which apologetic speech the old sinner creaked out of the room -pulling his forelock.</p> - -<p>"You see," said Lestrange, with a triumphant look at the other two, -"Thorold was in Heathton, and in the churchyard on that night."</p> - -<p>"It would seem so; but that does not prove he took away the body," put -in Sophy.</p> - -<p>"My second witness can prove that. Come in, Cicero."</p> - -<p>The fat man, resplendent in new clothes, rolled into the room.</p> - -<p>"Pax vobiscum," said he.</p> - -<p>The Rector turned an angry glance on him.</p> - -<p>"This is not the time for playing the fool," he said cuttingly. "You -are a cunning rogue, but some day you will overreach yourself. Now, -then, out with your lie."</p> - -<p>"Lie! I scorn to pervert the truth, reverend sir. I shall tell the -truth <i>in puris naturalibus</i>."</p> - -<p>"I hope not," threw in the Rector, laughing, in spite of himself, at -this abuse of quotation.</p> - -<p>"Which means, reverend sir," went on the old scoundrel coolly, "that -in the hut on the heath I found the corpse of Dr. Warrender."</p> - -<p>"But not the body of my father," said Sophy.</p> - -<p>"No, but I saw that taken away from the vault. Undoubtedly, Miss -Marlow, the body was carried to the hut for the purpose of dissection -by Mr. Thorold. He was foolish enough to leave behind him evidence of -his iniquitous purposes. Behold!" and Cicero produced a lancet in his -most dramatic manner. "Nota bene," said he grandly.</p> - -<p>Phelps bent forward and took the instrument in his hand. It had an -ivory handle, on which were carved two letters, "A. T."</p> - -<p>"You found this in the hut?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"I did, reverend sir. It must have been dropped by Mr. Thorold. If -not, how did it come there? I pause for a reply."</p> - -<p>"Why did you not tell Mr. Thorold about this?" demanded Sophy.</p> - -<p>"I bided my time----"</p> - -<p>"To blackmail him!" she cried, with scorn.</p> - -<p>"A harsh word, Miss Sophia. Certainly I would have demanded a small -payment from Mr. Thorold, had I shown him that. But Mr. Thorold -insulted me, it matters not how. <i>Nemo me impune lacessit</i>, Miss -Sophia, and I determined to punish the young man. My military friend -was good enough to enter into partnership with me for the purpose of -clearing up this matter, hence I told him of my discovery. There is no -more to be said."</p> - -<p>"Save this," put in Lestrange, who appeared to be getting somewhat -weary of Cicero's cumbersome diction, "that here is the proof that it -was Thorold who carried off the body. Do you believe now in his -guilt?"</p> - -<p>"I reserve my opinion," said the Rector, who could not but acknowledge -to himself that things looked black for Alan.</p> - -<p>"I don't!" cried Sophy, rising. "If fifty men, with fifty lancets, -came to tell me this story, I would not believe a word against Mr. -Thorold. He can explain. I believe in him firmly, and, to prove my -belief, I shall marry him as soon as I can."</p> - -<p>"You'll do nothing of the sort!" cried Lestrange, losing his temper. -"I am your father, and I command you to come with me."</p> - -<p>"And I am my own mistress, and I refuse," she said quietly. "You can't -frighten me. I don't believe your stories."</p> - -<p>"Nor do I," said the Rector. "When Mr. Thorold comes back, he will, no -doubt, be able to explain his presence in Heathton on that night, and -also the loss of his lancet."</p> - -<p>"He shall explain it to the police!" cried Lestrange, in a threatening -manner.</p> - -<p>"No, no," said Cicero, apprehensive at this mention of his natural -enemies; "let us take counsel together. Cannot this matter be -adjusted, so that Mr. Thorold may escape the reward of his iniquitous -proceedings?"</p> - -<p>Sophy looked at him with a satirical smile. Then she turned to address -Lestrange as the senior partner in this firm of scoundrels.</p> - -<p>"How much do you want?" she asked.</p> - -<p>The Captain winced. He did not like the question to be put quite so -crudely.</p> - -<p>"I do not understand," he said.</p> - -<p>"I think you do. How much do you require to hold your tongue?"</p> - -<p>"Say five thousand," whispered Mr. Gramp.</p> - -<p>But Lestrange shook him off, and marched to the door very upright and -indignant.</p> - -<p>"I will let you know my price----"</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Sophy scornfully.</p> - -<p>"When I have seen the police," finished he, and marched out.</p> - -<p>Cicero had to follow, but he turned at the door and winked.</p> - -<p>"He will not go to the police," said he, in a hurried voice. "Might I -suggest five----"</p> - -<p>"Be off, you scoundrel!" cried the Rector indignantly, and thrust him -out.</p> - -<p>Then he resumed his seat, and looked at Sophy.</p> - -<p>"Well?" said he.</p> - -<p>"Alan can explain," said she decisively.</p> - -<p>"But if Lestrange goes to the police?"</p> - -<p>"He won't," she said. "Cicero will stop that. Meanwhile I wait for -Alan."</p> - -<p>They talked on for a long time, but could come to no conclusion. -Undoubtedly Alan had been near the vault on that night, had been in -the hut, and had said nothing of these things to any one. It certainly -looked suspicious, but Sophy insisted that her lover could and would -explain. In spite of appearances, she had faith in Alan's honesty and -in Alan's honor.</p> - -<p>That same evening she dined with the Rector, without even Miss Vicky -in attendance.</p> - -<p>Towards the end of the meal, Alan walked in unexpectedly. He looked -somewhat downcast, but there was no sign of fear in his bearing. After -greetings had been exchanged he sat down with them. Neither the Rector -nor Sophy was anxious to inform him of the accusation which had been -brought against him.</p> - -<p>"How went the business?" asked Mr. Phelps.</p> - -<p>"Badly--for us," was the reply. "Lestrange certainly arrived by the -boat he said he came by. I saw his name, Achille Lestrange, on the -passenger-list of the <i>Negress</i>."</p> - -<p>"Ah! the devil speaks true sometimes!" said the Rector. "And what -about Beauchamp?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes!" cried Sophy. "Did you find him? Did you see him?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Alan quietly, "but I heard of him. Beauchamp is dead!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_16" href="#div1Ref_16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></h4> -<h5>ALAN'S DEFENSE</h5> -<br> - -<p>"Dead!" repeated Sophy, after a pause. "Then was this Mr. Beauchamp -really my father or a relative?"</p> - -<p>"I think he was Mr. Marlow, dear," said her lover gravely. "No doubt -your father intended to feign death to escape Lestrange, but it would -seem that he overdid it, and really died. I saw the manager of the -Occidental Bank. He informed me that he had received a letter telling -him that Beauchamp was dead."</p> - -<p>"How long ago was this?"</p> - -<p>"A little over a week."</p> - -<p>"Who wrote the letter?"</p> - -<p>"That he refused to tell me."</p> - -<p>"Had he seen this Mr. Beauchamp, to whom the money was to be paid?"</p> - -<p>"Never. Your father had informed him that he had left an income to -Beauchamp, and that drafts for the money were to be sent to a certain -place--where, I don't know. The manager sent a draft, but it was -returned to him with a letter stating that the man was dead. For my -own part, I believe that Mr. Marlow was Beauchamp. His plan to hide -himself from Lestrange has succeeded only too well."</p> - -<p>Mr. Phelps now joined in.</p> - -<p>"Then I understand, Alan, that you think Marlow is really dead?"</p> - -<p>"I do. If he had only feigned death, then Beauchamp would be receiving -his income. In my opinion, the two men are one and the same. I believe -Lestrange's story so far."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said the Rector, who was really of the same opinion. "But let -us leave this question for the moment and talk of the other. You say -that Lestrange arrived on the day and by the boat he asserted that he -did?"</p> - -<p>"I saw the passenger-list myself. If he had not been on board, -his name would not have been there. Even he could not falsify a -passenger-list."</p> - -<p>"Then our idea that Lestrange was the Quiet Gentleman is false?"</p> - -<p>"It must be, sir. The man--Lestrange I mean--was not in England when -the Quiet Gentleman lived in this village. I believe Brown had to do -with the stealing of the body and the murder. But, then, Brown is not -Lestrange. Who he is I don't know!"</p> - -<p>"Alan!" cried Sophy--for if what Lestrange stated was true, this -hypocrisy was detestable--"you are not straightforward with me!"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I am," he said, with a stare of astonishment. "I have told you -of my discoveries. Why should I deceive you?"</p> - -<p>"Why, indeed!" said the girl bitterly. "You know how much I -love you, yet you keep me in the dark about matters which concern -us both--matters which I, if any one, have a right to know."</p> - -<p>He might have had some inkling of what she meant, for his face turned -a dark red. Nevertheless, he held himself well in hand, and looked -inquiringly at the Rector.</p> - -<p>"What does she mean, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I think you can guess," said Phelps, more coldly than he had ever -before spoken to Alan.</p> - -<p>"No; upon my word, I----"</p> - -<p>Sophy rose from her chair and closed his mouth with her hand.</p> - -<p>"Don't! don't!" she cried despairingly.</p> - -<p>"I can't bear it. Captain Lestrange----" She hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Alan fiercely. "I might have guessed he had been making -mischief. Well, and what does he say?"</p> - -<p>"That you stole my father's body, Alan!"</p> - -<p>"I--I--stole the body?"</p> - -<p>"Yes!" chimed in the Rector. "And he further says that you took it to -the hut on the heath, where Warrender's corpse was found."</p> - -<p>"Oh, indeed!" cried the young man derisively. "And did I murder -Warrender, too?"</p> - -<p>"Alan! Alan! Oh, don't jest! If you love me, Alan, tell me the truth."</p> - -<p>"Sophy! What do you mean?" He pushed away his plate and rose. "Do you -believe this man's tale for one moment? Am I the man to violate a -grave--to drag the remains of a man I respected and honored to the -light of day? You must be mad to think of such a thing! How dare he -bring forward such a terrible--such a dastardly accusation? For what -reason does he say that I did it?"</p> - -<p>"Out of revenge, I expect," said Phelps. "He dislikes you, Alan. He -says you took poor Marlow's body to dissect it."</p> - -<p>"And bases his lie upon some gossip of my having been a medical -student, I suppose?" cried the young man, now thoroughly angry. "I'll -thrash the scoundrel within an inch of his life!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Alan, I am so glad--so thankful! I said so, didn't I, Mr. Phelps? -You didn't do it!"</p> - -<p>"Do it--of course I didn't do it! Why should I? Phelps,"--Alan forgot -his respect for the Rector in his rage--"do you believe this lying -story?"</p> - -<p>"Knowing you as I do, I don't believe it. But I must say that -Lestrange--he is a very dangerous man--makes out a strong case against -you."</p> - -<p>"Oh! Let me hear on what grounds."</p> - -<p>"Alan!" Sophy came forward and took him by the lapels of his coat, -"before we tell you anything, confess if you have kept anything from -us."</p> - -<p>He looked at her in a puzzled manner. Then a light seemed to dawn upon -him. He glanced at the Rector.</p> - -<p>"Now I understand, Mr. Phelps. Jarks has told you."</p> - -<p>"Told me what?" asked the Rector, with well-feigned ignorance.</p> - -<p>"I see! I see!" Alan sat down again. "It's all right, Sophy. I kept -that from you only that you should not be worried. So Lestrange found -out--from Jarks, I suppose--that I was at Heathton on the night of the -funeral?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes. Oh, Alan, is it true?"</p> - -<p>"True--of course it is. Why should it not be true? Does the fact of my -having been here corroborate this cock-and-bull story? You ought to -know me better, Sophy, and you too, Phelps."</p> - -<p>"I couldn't believe it--I didn't," cried the girl.</p> - -<p>"Nor I. We both told him that he lied. But I must admit that things -looked bad for you, as he put it. Why didn't you tell us you were at -Heathton on that night? Why did you come? Was there any serious reason -for such secrecy?"</p> - -<p>"No reason whatsoever," replied the young man frankly, "save the -trifling one that I did not want to bother Sophy with my suspicions. -Yes, I came by the 8.30 train from Bournemouth, and I returned at -half-past eleven. I had to go to another station to keep my secret, -you know. Jarks saw me in the graveyard about ten, and as I wished to -keep my visit quiet, for the reason I have told you, I gave him -something to hold his tongue. It appears that he did not. I suppose -Lestrange bribed him?"</p> - -<p>"Well, no," said the Rector, "not exactly. Jarks, in his cups, told -that scoundrel Gramp, and he told Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Oh! So there are two of them in league to make trouble. A proper pair -of scoundrels!"</p> - -<p>"But," said Sophy, more composedly, "you have not told us why you -came."</p> - -<p>"I came," said her lover, determined now to make a clean breast of it, -"to look at the vault--to see that all was safe."</p> - -<p>The Rector uttered an exclamation of astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Did you expect, then, that there would be some foul play?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I hardly know, sir. It was this way: After Mr. Marlow received -that letter from the West Indies--which doubtless warned him that -Lestrange was on his track--he was much worried. He would not tell me -the reason, but kept speaking of some shock he had had which might -cause his death. 'And I don't know if the scoundrel will let my body -rest in its grave,' he said in a fit of passion. I asked to whom he -alluded, but he would say no more. When he died so unexpectedly, his -words came back to me. I wondered if he had enemies who might disturb -his remains, and all that day after the funeral I felt so bothered -about it that I could not rest without coming back to see if all was -well."</p> - -<p>"And you found nothing wrong?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing, sir. I was in the churchyard for about a quarter of an hour. -I examined the door of the vault, and saw everything was right. As I -came away I met Jarks; the rest you know."</p> - -<p>"You saw no signs of that tramp in the churchyard?"</p> - -<p>"None! I expect he was sleeping when I was there. According to his -story, it was after midnight when the vault was opened."</p> - -<p>"Alan," said Sophy, much relieved, "how is it they did not know at -Heathton Station that you were here?"</p> - -<p>"I did not go to Heathton Station. I stopped at Murbury, and walked -from there across the heath. I went back the same way. I did so simply -to keep the tongues of gossips quiet. I did not want you to be -worried, Sophy; and after all," he said, after a pause, "beyond the -chance words of your father I had no reason to think that anything was -wrong. Ah! if I had only stayed in the churchyard all night, I should -have prevented this trouble. The vault would never have been broken -into, and poor Warrender would still be alive."</p> - -<p>The Rector nodded approval of this speech, and poured himself out a -glass of wine, which, poor man, he sadly needed. Lestrange's -accusation had been disproved; still, there remained the evidence of -Cicero. Sophy put the question which was in the Rector's mind.</p> - -<p>"Captain Lestrange brought Cicero here, Alan," she said abruptly, "and -he--Cicero, I mean--declared that you were in the hut on the moor that -night."</p> - -<p>"I was not!" cried young Thorold hotly. "I was never near the hut. Why -should I have been? Ask yourself, as I had to walk to and from -Murbury, and spend a quarter of an hour in the churchyard, had I time -to cross the moor all the distance to the hut?"</p> - -<p>"Of course, you know I don't believe it. But Cicero----"</p> - -<p>"Well, and how can he prove I was there?" he said impatiently.</p> - -<p>"He found something there which belonged to you."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"A lancet."</p> - -<p>"A lancet! And why mine? Warrender was a doctor; he took away the -body--why should the lancet not belong to him? If he had intended to -dissect the body--which he might have, for all I know--he would want -one."</p> - -<p>"No doubt," Mr. Phelps said dryly. "But this lancet had your initials -on the ivory handle. It is your lancet, Alan, and it is now in -Cicero's possession."</p> - -<p>"H'm! that's queer. Initials?--yes, it might be mine. But how did it -get there?"</p> - -<p>"Did you ever lend a lancet to Dr. Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"No, not that I can remember."</p> - -<p>"Then there was the other man, his accomplice, Brown the----"</p> - -<p>"Ha!" cried Alan, starting up and pacing the room. "I see, I see!"</p> - -<p>"See what?" cried Sophy eagerly.</p> - -<p>"How the lancet came to be found in the hut. The Quiet Gentleman stole -it."</p> - -<p>"Stole it?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. Did he not steal the key of the vault from my desk? There -was a case of lancets in the same drawer; he took one. Ha! this proves -to me that Brown stole the body and murdered Warrender. A clever -scoundrel! He stole my lancet to throw suspicion on me." Alan clenched -his hands and looked upward. "In God's name, what does this roguery -mean?"</p> - -<p>It was indeed a perplexing case. They were all in the dark, and such -gleams of light as came served only to confuse them the more. -Lestrange could not be the Quiet Gentleman, for, as had been proved by -Alan, he had landed in England only the week before. Brown was the -<i>deus ex machina</i> who could put matters right, and Brown had vanished. -He could reappear only at the risk of being charged with murder.</p> - -<p>Why had the body been removed? If it were a case of blackmailing, the -claim would have been made long since. The police were apparently as -much at a loss as Alan himself. And Blair----</p> - -<p>"Does Blair know of this accusation?" asked Mr. Thorold suddenly.</p> - -<p>"I am certain he does not," answered the Rector emphatically. "In the -first place, it was only made to-day. Lestrange, I am sure, wants -money, and would come to us before going to the police."</p> - -<p>"If he does not want money, Cicero does," put in Sophy scornfully.</p> - -<p>"In the second place," resumed Mr. Phelps, "Blair is away."</p> - -<p>"Where has he gone?"</p> - -<p>"I can't say, but he will be back in a fortnight."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Alan moodily, "I don't know if he will be much good when -he does come. I shall see this firm of scoundrels at the Good -Samaritan, and threaten them with the police, unless they tell all -they know. Lestrange is as bad as Cicero, and I know <i>him</i> to be a -scoundrel. What's that?"</p> - -<p>This exclamation was drawn from him by the violent ringing of the -door-bell. Before the sounds had ceased, Miss Vicky, red, hot and -agitated, rushed in a most unladylike manner into the room.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Sophy! Mr. Phelps! Mr. Alan! I really never! Joseph Brill--oh, -that Joseph Brill! He's back again!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_17" href="#div1Ref_17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></h4> -<h5>JOE'S EVIDENCE</h5> -<br> - -<p>For a moment the three gazed in silence and amazement at the old maid. -She stood before them, all tousled and red with haste, a figure of fun -she would not have recognized for herself. Her buckram demeanor had -for once given way to the real woman. Alan was the first to speak, and -he jumped up from the table with a shout of joy. From an unexpected -quarter, in the most unexpected manner, help had come, and at the -moment when it was most needed.</p> - -<p>"Joe Brill!" cried Mr. Thorold. "He is the very man I want. Where is -he, Miss Vicky?"</p> - -<p>"At the Moat House. I went to the kitchen for a moment; he was -there--he had just come in. I thought he was a ghost," declared the -little lady solemnly; "indeed I did until he convinced me that he was -flesh and blood."</p> - -<p>"What explanation did he make?" asked Sophy anxiously.</p> - -<p>"None--to me. He said he was ready to explain his absence to Mr. -Thorold."</p> - -<p>"Did he? Then he shall have the chance. Go back to the Moat House, -Miss Parsh, and send on Joe to the Good Samaritan."</p> - -<p>"Why there of all places?" asked the Rector.</p> - -<p>"Because I am going to see Lestrange, and force the truth out of him. -There shall be an end to all this devilment. He accuses me, does he!" -cried Thorold, with an ugly look. "Let him have a care lest I accuse -him, and prove my accusation, too, with the help of Joe Brill."</p> - -<p>"Joseph!" cried Miss Parsh, quite at sea. "What can he do?"</p> - -<p>"He can prove if Lestrange's story is true or false."</p> - -<p>"Story, Mr. Alan! What story?"</p> - -<p>"Never mind, Vicky," put in Sophy, catching Miss Parsh's arm. She saw -that Alan was growing impatient. "Come back home, and we will send Joe -on to the inn. Come, you look quite upset."</p> - -<p>"And I am upset," wailed the poor woman. "I ran all the way to tell -you that Joseph had returned--like a thief in the night," she added. -"Oh, dear me! and I'm so hot and untidy. I don't like these dreadful -things!" Miss Vicky suddenly caught sight of herself in an adjacent -mirror, and made a hasty attempt to arrange her disordered dress. "Oh, -what a spectacle for a genteel gentlewoman to present! A glass of -wine, Mr. Phelps, I beg of you."</p> - -<p>The Rector poured out the wine in silence, then turned to Alan.</p> - -<p>"Shall I come with you!"</p> - -<p>"No, sir. Joe and I are quite able to deal with this brace of -blackguards."</p> - -<p>"Remember that Lestrange is a dangerous man, Alan."</p> - -<p>"So am I," retorted the other grimly. "If I happen to find a whip -handy, I don't know what I might be tempted to do."</p> - -<p>"But if Joe declares that Lestrange is Sophy's father?"</p> - -<p>"He is not my father!" cried Sophy. "His story is a lie! I am the -daughter of Richard Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Sophia! This man--your father!" wailed Miss Vicky. "Oh dear, what is -all this?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you when we get home," said the girl. "Alan, I will send -Joe to the inn at once."</p> - -<p>And she led the weeping Vicky from the room.</p> - -<p>"Let me come, Alan. You will want a witness."</p> - -<p>"Joe will be witness enough," said the young man decisively. "No, sir; -better let me see him alone; there may be rough work. Your cloth----"</p> - -<p>"Deuce take my cloth!" cried the Rector. "Bless me, may I be forgiven! -My cloth might keep the peace."</p> - -<p>"I don't want the peace kept," retorted Thorold. "Unless that Creole -Frenchman apologizes I'll thrash him!"</p> - -<p>The Rector stared, and well he might. All the well-bred composure had -gone from Alan's face and manner, the veneer of civilization was -stripped off, and man, primeval man, showed naked and unashamed. He -stared back at the clergyman, and for quite a minute the two looked at -one another. Then the younger man turned and left the room, and Mr. -Phelps made no attempt to stay him. He knew that he might as well have -tried to chain a whirlwind. He bowed to circumstances and sat down -again to his wine.</p> - -<p>"I hope to Heaven he'll keep himself in hand," he muttered, without -his usual self-apology for swearing. "Lestrange is dangerous; but -Alan, in his present mood, is more so. I should not care to be the man -to meet him with that look on his face. Dear! dear!" The little man -sighed. "I wish all these mysteries were over and done with, and we -could resume the quiet tenor of our way."</p> - -<p>Meantime, Alan was making for the inn. It was just on nine o'clock, -and the night had turned out wet. As he had no overcoat, the rain was -soaking him. But he did not care for that. His blood was on fire to -meet this man and force the truth out of him. He was certain that -Lestrange could explain much if he chose; and whether he chose or not, -Alan intended that he should speak out. He was determined that an end -should be put to these troubles.</p> - -<p>The rain whipped his face and drenched him, but he walked on steadily. -There was no gas in Heathton, which was so far uncivilized, and the -roads were dark and miry. Not until he got into the principal street -did he leave the mud and the darkness behind him. Then before him -glimmered the feeble lantern over the door, with which Mrs. Timber -illuminated the entrance to her premises. Alan could hear the drowsy -voices of the villagers sitting over their ale in the taproom;--heard -above the rest the pompous speech of Cicero, who was evidently playing -his favorite part of Sir Oracle.</p> - -<p>In the hall Mr. Thorold was found by the landlady. The woman pervaded -the house like a fly, and was always to be discovered where she was -least expected. She recognized Alan, curtsied and awaited -instructions.</p> - -<p>"Take me," he said abruptly, "to Captain Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Lor', sir!" Mrs. Timber, in her amazement, overstepped the bounds of -class. "You said he was no friend of yours, sir."</p> - -<p>"Nor is he. Come, show me his room. He is in, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Catch him wetting himself!" she said, leading the way, with a sour -smile. "He's a furrin' Jack-o-dandy, that he is. Not but what he don't -pay reg'lar. But I see the color of his money afore my meat goes down -his throat. This is the door, sir."</p> - -<p>"Very good. And, Mrs. Timber, should Joe Brill come, show him in -here."</p> - -<p>"Joe Brill!" yelped the landlady, throwing up her hands. "You don't -mean to say as he's back, Mr. Alan! Well, I never did! And I thought -he'd run away because of the murder."</p> - -<p>"You think too much, Mrs. Timber. Some day you will get yourself into -trouble. Now go, and don't forget my orders."</p> - -<p>Chilled by the severity of his tone, Mrs. Timber crept away, somewhat -ashamed. Alan knocked at the door, heard the thin voice of Lestrange -call out "Entrez," and went in. The man was lying on the sofa, reading -a French novel by the light of a petroleum lamp, and smoking a -cigarette. When Alan appeared, he rose quickly into a sitting -position, and stared at his visitor. Of all men, the last he had -expected to see was the one he had so basely accused. The thought -flashed into his mind that Thorold had come to have it out with him. -But Lestrange, whatever his faults, was not wanting in a certain -viperish courage. He rose to greet his enemy with a smile which -cloaked many things.</p> - -<p>"Good-evening, Mr. Thorold," he said, with a wary glance; "to what am -I indebted for this visit?"</p> - -<p>"You shall know that before long," replied Alan, closing the door. He -was now considerably cooler, and had made up his mind that more was to -be got out of this man by diplomacy than by blind rage. "Have I your -permission to sit down?" he asked, with studied politeness.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, my dear sir. Will you smoke?"</p> - -<p>"No, thank you."</p> - -<p>"Have some refreshment, then?"</p> - -<p>"No, thank you."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" sneered Lestrange, throwing himself again on the couch, "your -visit is not so amiable as I fancied. You come as my enemy."</p> - -<p>"Considering your behavior, it would be strange if I came as anything -else."</p> - -<p>"My behavior?"</p> - -<p>"I refer to your interview with Mr. Phelps and Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Mademoiselle Lestrange, if you please."</p> - -<p>"Ah, that is for you to prove!"</p> - -<p>"I shall prove it," said the other, quite unmoved, "in open court."</p> - -<p>"That will be a harder task than you imagine," retorted Alan quickly. -"But I am not here to discuss Miss Marlow's parentage. My errand is to -ask you why you have accused me of taking away the body of her -father."</p> - -<p>"Richard Marlow was not her father," replied the man with heat.</p> - -<p>"So you say--we can pass that point, as I told you before. I speak of -the charge you have thought fit to bring against me."</p> - -<p>"It is a true one. I am willing to take it into court."</p> - -<p>"You may be brought into court sooner than you expect," remarked Alan -dryly; and from the sudden start the man gave he saw that the shot had -gone home. "On what grounds do you base this charge?"</p> - -<p>"If Mr. Phelps reported the interview correctly, you must know," said -he sullenly.</p> - -<p>"To save time," retorted Alan, "I may as well admit that I do know. -Jarks and Cicero speak the truth."</p> - -<p>Lestrange looked surprised.</p> - -<p>"Then you admit your guilt?"</p> - -<p>"No; that is quite another thing. I admit that I was in Heathton on -that night when Jarks saw me. What I came for does not concern you, -Captain Lestrange; but I can prove also that I was back in Bournemouth -before twelve o'clock. You will observe that I can establish an -alibi."</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, I really believed you guilty!" cried the Captain with -sincerity.</p> - -<p>"No doubt," was the scornful reply. "The wish is father to the -thought. I will thank you not to accuse me falsely again."</p> - -<p>"You have to explain away the finding of the lancet."</p> - -<p>"That was stolen from my desk, with the key of the vault, by a man -called Brown, whom I believe to have been guilty of a crime. You need -not try to fasten the guilt upon me! I can defend myself--to use your -favorite phrase--in open court, if necessary."</p> - -<p>"Your word is enough," protested Lestrange. "I was wrong to accuse -you!"</p> - -<p>"Very wrong. You did it out of spite----"</p> - -<p>"No, no! I really believed----"</p> - -<p>"What you wished yourself to believe," interrupted Alan in his -turn. "It was my intention to have given you a thrashing, Captain -Lestrange----"</p> - -<p>"Sir!" the man started up white with rage.</p> - -<p>"But I have changed my mind," pursued Alan, without noticing the -interruption. "I now intend to take another course. If you do not at -once leave Heathton, I shall bring a charge against you of defamation -of character."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" Lestrange shrugged his shoulders. "You are a true English -shop-keeper. A man should protect himself by more honorable means."</p> - -<p>"I know very well what I am about, sir. I wish to bring you into -contact with the law. For that reason--unless you go--I shall bring -the action."</p> - -<p>"And what can the law do to me?" he asked defiantly. "I have committed -no wrong."</p> - -<p>"You intend to. Oh! I know that you are innocent of taking Marlow's -body, and of murdering Warrender. But you are here to blackmail Miss -Marlow on the threat of proclaiming her dead father a murderer."</p> - -<p>"I am here to claim my daughter!" shouted Lestrange fiercely. "Sophia -Marlow I know nothing of; but Marie Lestrange is the daughter of -Achille Lestrange, and I"--the Captain struck his breast--"I am he!"</p> - -<p>While he was still posing in a very effective attitude, the door -opened, and Mrs. Timber ushered in Joe Brill. Hardly had it closed, -when Brill took a step forward, staring at Lestrange as though he had -seen a vision. Lestrange turned white, this time not with rage but -with fear. In the silence which ensued Alan looked from one to the -other, wondering what revelation was about to be made. Joe was the -first to speak.</p> - -<p>"You swab!" cried Joe. "D----d if it ain't Captain Jean!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_18" href="#div1Ref_18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></h4> -<h5>A PORTION OF THE TRUTH</h5> -<br> - -<p>Joe was not in the least changed. Wherever he had been, in whatever -nefarious transactions he had been engaged, he was still the -mahogany-colored, tough old sailor whom nothing could surprise or -alarm. After having greeted Lestrange he hitched up his trousers in -true nautical style and touched his forehead.</p> - -<p>"You wished to see me, sir," he said to Alan, and took a sidelong -glance at the Captain. That polished scoundrel had, for once, lost his -coolness, and, colorless with rage, was glaring at the seaman like a -devil.</p> - -<p>"Joe," said the squire, as soon as he could take in the situation, -"you are making a mistake."</p> - -<p>"Not me, sir! I knows a shark when I sees one."</p> - -<p>"But this is Captain Achille Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Curse me if he is!" cried Joe vigorously. "Achille weren't no -captain. This one's a captain right enough, and a blazing fine lobster -he is! Jean's his name, sir, but he ain't a Scotch girl, for all that. -No, it's the French lingo for John."</p> - -<p>"I am Achille Lestrange," persisted the Captain, very shrill and very -short of breath. "This man is a liar!"</p> - -<p>"Say that again, and I'll knock the teeth down your throat!" growled -Joe, like an angry mastiff. "Achille be blowed! I know'd you twenty -year ago in the islands, I did, and a bad lot you were then. Jean -Lestrange--why, there never was a wuss lot! I never did think much of -Achille, for all his money; but you----"</p> - -<p>Joe spat to show his disgust.</p> - -<p>"Then this man is not Sophy's father?" gasped Alan.</p> - -<p>"Oh, he sez that, does he, the lubber? Missy's father! Why, he ain't -fit to be her shoeblack!"</p> - -<p>"Achille was the girl's father," said Lestrange sullenly. He saw that -it was useless to lie in face of Joe's positive knowledge. "And if I'm -not her father, I'm her uncle."</p> - -<p>"That's a d----d lie!" put in Joe. "You weren't no more nor Achille's -cousin. What you are to missy, I don't know. But she won't have -nothing to do with you, you landshark!"</p> - -<p>"Joe, do you mean to say your late master is not Sophy's father?"</p> - -<p>"I do, sir. It's got to come out somehow, if only to put a stop to -that devil's pranks. She's the daughter of Achille Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Who was murdered by Marlow!" finished the Captain savagely. "Ah, my -friends, I have still some cards left."</p> - -<p>"You'll have no teeth left!" growled Joe, making a step forward. -"You're a liar, Captain Jean--you always was! Mr. Marlow----"</p> - -<p>"Beauchamp," corrected Lestrange, with a glance at Alan.</p> - -<p>"Beauchamp it is," continued Brill coolly. "Oh, you needn't be afeared -that I'm going to lie! But Mr. Beauchamp never stabbed Munseer -Achille, and you know it, you lubber! Let me get at him, Mr. Thorold!"</p> - -<p>"No, no, Joe!" Alan kept the irate seaman back. "We'll deal with this -gentleman in a better fashion. Sit down, Joe, while we talk it over."</p> - -<p>Joe nodded, and sat down on a chair, which he placed directly before -the door.</p> - -<p>With a glare that showed he noticed and resented this action, -Lestrange resumed his seat. He was too clever a man not to recognize -that Joe's cunning would dislocate his plans. But he was evidently -determined to fight to the last. At present he held his tongue, for he -wanted to hear what Joe would say. He preferred, for the moment, to -remain strictly on the defensive.</p> - -<p>It was with a thankful heart that Alan Thorold realized the value of -Joe as an ally. At one time he had really believed that Lestrange was -truly Sophy's father, and although she would never have admitted the -relationship, still it was satisfactory to know that the man had no -claim on her obedience. The knowledge of Lestrange's falsehood cleared -the air somewhat. For one thing, it proved conclusively that the -Captain had come to blackmail the girl. His claim to be her father was -doubtless made in the hope that she would accompany him back to -Jamaica, and would give him control of her money. Failing this--and -Lestrange had long since realized that there was no doing anything -with Sophy in a paternal way--there remained the chance that, to -preserve Marlow's memory from stain, she might buy his silence.</p> - -<p>Thus Lestrange argued, and Alan, with his eyes on the man's expressive -face, guessed his thoughts and answered them.</p> - -<p>"No, Lestrange," he said, with decision, "you won't get one penny."</p> - -<p>"We shall see about that," was the rejoinder.</p> - -<p>"Of course. We are going to see about it now. You will be brought to -your bearings, sir. Joe, you say that this man is Jean Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir. But may I ask, Mr. Thorold, how you know about the shark?"</p> - -<p>"I have heard the story from his own lips, Joe. He claimed to be -Achille Lestrange and Miss Sophy's father."</p> - -<p>"Did he, now, the swab! and you know, sir, how Mrs. Lestrange ran away -to Mr. Beauchamp from the way her husband treated her?"</p> - -<p>"I know----"</p> - -<p>"Achille treated Zelia well," interrupted the Captain; "only too -well."</p> - -<p>"That's another lie!" retorted Joe. "He was fond-like of her the first -year they were married, but it was you, Captain Jean, who made a mess -of them. You made him jealous of Mr. Beauchamp, and he treated her -crool. No wonder she ran away, poor lass!"</p> - -<p>"Did the way Achille treated Zelia give Beauchamp any right to murder -him?"</p> - -<p>"He didn't murder him. You know he didn't."</p> - -<p>"He did, I say. Achille was found stabbed to the heart on the veranda -of Beauchamp's house. Zelia was dead, and your master took the child -away to his yacht at Falmouth. You were on board."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Joe coolly, "I wos; and it wos well for you, Captain Jean, -that I wasn't near the house that same evening. I'd ha' wrung your -neck, I would! Anyhow, master didn't kill Munseer Achille."</p> - -<p>"There was a warrant out for his arrest, however."</p> - -<p>"I know that, Captain Jean, and it was you who got it out. And I know -as you came over here after master from seeing his picter in the -papers. We both knowed you were coming, Captain Jean."</p> - -<p>Alan interposed:</p> - -<p>"Was that the West Indian letter, Joe?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, it was. Master got a letter from a friend of his in Jamaica -telling him this swab was after him to say as he'd murdered Munseer -Achille, which," added Joe, deliberately eyeing Lestrange, "is a -d----d lie!"</p> - -<p>"Then who killed Achille?" sneered the Captain, quivering with rage.</p> - -<p>"I dunno rightly," replied Mr. Brill stolidly. "I wasn't in the house -that night, or I'd ha' found out. But master ran away, because he knew -you'd accuse him out of spite. But Mr. Barkham, of Falmouth, believed -master was innocent, and know'd where he was, and what was his new -name. 'Twas he wrote the letter saying as Captain Jean was on his way -to England to make trouble."</p> - -<p>"Barkham!" muttered Lestrange. "Ah! he was always my enemy."</p> - -<p>"A shark like you, Captain Jean, ain't got no friends," remarked Joe -sententiously.</p> - -<p>"Do you think that Barkham's letter caused Mr. Marlow's death?" asked -Alan.</p> - -<p>"Do I think it, sir? Why, I knows it! After twenty years of hearing -nothing, the shock, as you might say, killed my master."</p> - -<p>"Then he was guilty, and my accusation was a righteous one to make," -chimed in Lestrange. "A clean conscience fears nothing."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Beauchamp's conscience was a darned sight cleaner nor yourn, -Captain Jean, but you had the whip-hand of him, as all those in -Jamaica thought he'd murdered Munseer Achille, from them quarreling -about him coming after his wife. But master didn't do it--I swear he -didn't! More like you did it yourself," added Joe, with a look of -contempt, "though I dare say you ain't man enough to stick a knife -into any one."</p> - -<p>Alan thought for a few minutes, then turned to Lestrange.</p> - -<p>"I think you must see that you have failed all round," he said -quietly. "Your plot to pass as Miss Marlow's father is of no use now. -The accusation against me is not worth considering, as I have shown. -If necessary, I can defend myself. On the whole, Captain Lestrange, -you had better go back to Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"Not without my price," said the adventurer.</p> - -<p>"Ah, blackmail! Well, I always thought that was at the bottom of it -all. A man with clean hands and honorable intentions would not have -joined hands with a confessed rogue like Cicero Gramp. But may I ask -on what grounds you demand money?"</p> - -<p>"I can prove that Beauchamp killed my cousin."</p> - -<p>"What good will that do? Beauchamp is dead, and beyond your malice."</p> - -<p>"Ay, that he is," said Joe approvingly. "He's gone where you won't get -him. I reckon you'll go the other way when your time comes, you -blasted swab!"</p> - -<p>Lestrange, writhing under these insults, jumped up and poured out a -volley of abuse, which the seaman bore quite unmoved.</p> - -<p>"I'll not go without my money," he raged, "and a good sum, too, -otherwise I shall see the girl----"</p> - -<p>"If you annoy Miss Marlow again, I'll have you arrested," said Alan -sharply. "We don't permit this sort of thing in England."</p> - -<p>"I shall put the story of Beauchamp's wickedness in all the papers."</p> - -<p>"As you please. It cannot harm the dead."</p> - -<p>"And will that girl stand by and see her father's memory disgraced?"</p> - -<p>"You seem to forget," said Thorold, with quiet irony, "that he was not -Miss Marlow's father. Well, there is no more to be said. If you make -yourself a nuisance, the law shall deal with you."</p> - -<p>"And I'll deal with him myself," said Joe. "I'll make them eyes of -yours blacker than they are by nature."</p> - -<p>"Leave him alone, Joe. He'll go now."</p> - -<p>"I won't go!" cried the man. "I'll have my price."</p> - -<p>Alan shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I shall have to give you that thrashing, after all."</p> - -<p>"Let me do it, sir," put in Mr. Brill, who was simply spoiling for a -row, and he stepped towards Lestrange.</p> - -<p>The man's courage, genuine enough of its kind, suddenly gave way -before the ferocity of the sailor. He sprang up, ran into an inner -room and bolted the door.</p> - -<p>Joe uttered the roar of a baffled tiger.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, Joe; we're quit of him now. He will leave Heathton."</p> - -<p>"I'll wait for him at the station," muttered Joe, following the young -Squire out of doors. "'Tain't right that the swab should get off -scot-free."</p> - -<p>Outside the rain had ceased. Alan looked at his watch, and finding -that it was late, turned his face towards home. Suddenly he -recollected that Joe had not explained his absence.</p> - -<p>"Well, Joe, where have you been?" he asked sharply.</p> - -<p>"After him." Joe pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "When master's -body was carried away, I thought that shark might have done it. I -know'd he was coming from Jamaica, so I went to Southampton to see -when he arrived."</p> - -<p>"You did not see him?"</p> - -<p>"No," was the gloomy reply. "But I seed the list of passengers in one -of them boats, and his name wos on it. He couldn't have done it!"</p> - -<p>"I found that out myself. No; Lestrange is innocent."</p> - -<p>"If I'd know'd he wos on his way here to make trouble with missy, I'd -have waited," said the sailor; "but I thought if I dropped across him -I'd keep him off."</p> - -<p>"He stole a march on you, Joe. And you have been at Southampton all -this time?"</p> - -<p>"I have, sir--there and in London. But it's all right now, Mr. Alan. -He won't worry Miss Sophy any more. But now you know, sir, why I gave -a sov. to that tramp. He talked about one as sent him, and I thought -he wos talking of Captain Jean, so I hurried him away as soon as I -could, lest Miss Sophy should hear."</p> - -<p>"I understand, Joe. But Cicero knew nothing at that time."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Joe clenched his fist. "He's another as needs a beating. Beg -pardon, sir, but I suppose you ain't found out who killed the doctor?"</p> - -<p>"No; I believe myself it was that man Brown, who was called the Quiet -Gentleman. Do you know who he was, Joe?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, I do not," replied Joe doggedly. "Good-night, Mr. Alan," and -he walked off in great haste.</p> - -<p>The young Squire pursued his way to the Abbey Farm, and all the way -wondered if Joe's sudden departure hinted at an unwillingness to talk -of Brown.</p> - -<p>"I'll ask him about the man to-morrow," muttered Alan.</p> - -<p>But on the morrow he had other matters to attend to. While he was at -breakfast a card was brought to him and he jumped up with a joyful -cry.</p> - -<p>"Inspector Blair!" he said, throwing down the card. "Show him up, Mrs. -Hester. Ah! I wonder what he has found out."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_19" href="#div1Ref_19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></h4> -<h5>A REAPPEARANCE</h5> -<br> - -<p>"I Am glad to see you, Blair. Sit down and have some breakfast."</p> - -<p>"Aha!" The inspector rubbed his hands as he looked at the well-spread -table. "I never say no to a good offer. Thank you, Mr. Thorold, I will -peck a bit."</p> - -<p>"You are looking well, Blair."</p> - -<p>"Never felt better in my life, Mr. Thorold. I have good cause to look -jolly."</p> - -<p>"Enjoyed your holiday, no doubt," said Alan, as he assisted the -officer liberally to ham and eggs. "Where did you spend it?"</p> - -<p>"In Brighton--pleasant place, Brighton."</p> - -<p>Blair looked so jocular, and chuckled in so pleasant a manner that the -Squire guessed he had good news. However, he resolved to let Blair -tell his story in his own way.</p> - -<p>"What took you to Brighton of all places?" he asked tentatively.</p> - -<p>"Well, you might guess. Joe Brill took me."</p> - -<p>"Joe Brill?"</p> - -<p>The inspector nodded.</p> - -<p>"I followed him there."</p> - -<p>"But I have seen Joe. He tells me he was at Southampton and in -London."</p> - -<p>"No doubt--a clever fellow Joe. He knows how to hold his tongue. Well, -Mr. Thorold, I hope your troubles about this matter of the lost body -will soon be at an end."</p> - -<p>"Blair!" Alan bent forward in a state of great excitement. "You have -found out something about it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, enough to gain me a thousand pounds."</p> - -<p>"Not enough to gain you two thousand pounds?"</p> - -<p>"No." Blair's face fell. "But I intend to get that also. However, I -have learned all about the theft of Mr. Marlow's body--how it was -removed, and why it was removed."</p> - -<p>"By Jove! How did you find out?"</p> - -<p>"Through Joe Brill. Somehow I suspected Joe from the first. That -sovereign he gave Cicero Gramp, you know--I always fancied there was -something behind his anxiety to get that man away. So I had him -watched, and applied for leave of absence. When he left Heathton I -followed as a tourist," chuckled Blair. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. -Thorold, I make a very good tourist."</p> - -<p>"And he went to Brighton?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, direct to Brighton. I went there and found out all about it."</p> - -<p>"You don't mean to say that he stole the body!"</p> - -<p>"Ay, but I do and with the best intentions, too."</p> - -<p>"Was he the short man Cicero Gramp saw with Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"He was the short man," replied Blair, finishing his coffee.</p> - -<p>"Then, why did he not tell me?" Alan burst out angrily. "I saw him -last night, yet he said nothing. He knew how anxious Miss Marlow is -about the loss of her father's body."</p> - -<p>"Not her father," corrected the inspector. "Achille Lestrange was her -father."</p> - -<p>"What!" Alan started from his seat. "You know that?"</p> - -<p>"I know all--the elopement in Jamaica; the kidnapping of Marie -Lestrange, whom we know as Sophy Marlow; the coming of Jean Lestrange -to blackmail the girl, and--and--all the rest of it. You see, Mr. -Thorold, I interviewed Joe Brill this morning, and he told me all -about your conversation with that rascal. I am posted up to date, -sir."</p> - -<p>"Joe Brill had no business to keep me in the dark," said the squire -angrily. "He should have relieved my mind and Miss Marlow's.</p> - -<p>"Miss Lestrange," hinted Blair.</p> - -<p>"No, sir--Sophia Marlow she is, and Sophia Marlow she will remain -until she changes her name for mine. Her father is dead, and Jean -Lestrange has no claim on her. Sophia Marlow, Mr. Inspector, if you -please."</p> - -<p>"Well, well--as you please. We shan't quarrel about a name. Have you -anything to smoke, Mr. Thorold?"</p> - -<p>Alan got him an excellent cigar, and returned to the point.</p> - -<p>"Why did Joe keep me and Miss Marlow in the dark?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Acted under orders, Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"Whose orders?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Marlow's, or rather, I should say Mr. Beauchamp's."</p> - -<p>"Blair!"</p> - -<p>Alan gasped out the name. His face was white and he was appalled at -the news. For the moment he believed the inspector must have taken -leave of his senses.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I dare say your astonishment is natural," said the inspector, -lighting his cigar. "I was astonished myself to find the dead man -alive and kicking. Yet I should not have been, for I suspected the -truth."</p> - -<p>Alan had not yet recovered from his amazement.</p> - -<p>"You suspected that Mr. Marlow was alive!" he said faintly. "On what -evidence?"</p> - -<p>"On circumstantial evidence," said Blair smartly. "When I examined the -coffin with Mr. Phelps I noticed what he did not. At the sides small -holes were bored in inconspicuous places, and the shell of the leaden -case was pierced. Only one inference could be drawn from this--that -the man had designedly been buried alive. The design must have been -carried out by Warrender and the short man. I suspected Joe, from the -fact of his having given that sovereign to Cicero, and I watched him. -Presuming my belief to be correct, I made certain that sooner or later -he would rejoin his master. As I say, he went to Brighton. I followed -close on his heels to a boarding-house in Lansdowne Place. There I saw -Mr. Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Did he recognize you?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. While he was living at Heathton I had seen Mr. Marlow -several times on business. He made no attempt when I saw him at -Brighton to disguise himself--not thinking, I suppose, that his clever -scheme to frustrate Lestrange would come to light in this way."</p> - -<p>"But, Blair, you did not know about Lestrange then!"</p> - -<p>"True enough; but I soon heard the whole story. Mr. Marlow told it to -me himself. As you may guess, he was in a great way about my having -discovered him, and seeing no means of evading the truth, he told it. -I insisted upon it, in fact; and now I know all."</p> - -<p>"And how did it come about?"</p> - -<p>Blair held up his hand.</p> - -<p>"No, Mr. Thorold," said he, "I shall leave Mr. Marlow--I think we had -better continue to call him so--to tell his own history. He can do it -better than I. Besides," added the inspector, rising briskly, "I have -business to do."</p> - -<p>"What sort of business?"</p> - -<p>"You can judge for yourself. I want you to come with me."</p> - -<p>"Where--what to do?"</p> - -<p>"To see Mrs. Warrender. You see, it was her husband who carried out -this scheme of feigned death to deceive Lestrange. Marlow, accused of -having murdered Achille in Jamaica, was afraid that this Captain Jean -would have him arrested. Now, Warrender was in Beauchamp's house at -Falmouth, Jamaica, when Mrs. Lestrange died, and he knew all about it. -It is my belief," added the inspector slowly, "that Beauchamp is -innocent, as he asserts himself to be, and that Warrender knew as -much."</p> - -<p>"But, my dear Blair," protested Alan, "in that case Warrender could -have told Marlow the truth, and could have stopped Jean Lestrange from -making mischief."</p> - -<p>"I dare say he could, but he did not. Warrender, my dear Mr. Thorold, -was a blackmailing scoundrel, who assumed the mask of friendship to -bamboozle Marlow. I had considerable difficulty in impressing this -view on Marlow, for, strange to say, he believed in the doctor. Joe -did not, however, and Joe told me a few facts about Warrender's -practice in Jamaica, which showed me that the doctor was not the -disinterested person he pretended to be. No, I am sure Warrender knew -Beauchamp to be innocent, and kept the fact quiet so as to retain a -hold on the man, and get money out of him. Now, do you understand why -I want to see his widow?"</p> - -<p>"No," replied Alan, not following the inspector's hypothesis, "I do -not. If Warrender kept the truth from Marlow, he would most certainly -have kept it from his wife. The woman would have babbled, even against -her own interests, as women always do. Mrs. Warrender can tell you -nothing--I feel sure of that."</p> - -<p>"You forget that the doctor may have left a confession of his -knowledge."</p> - -<p>"Would he have done that?" said Alan doubtfully. "It would have been a -foolish thing."</p> - -<p>"And when do criminals do other than foolish things?" was Blair's -response. "The murderer usually returns to the scene of his crime--as -often as not sets out its details in writing. It is impossible to -account for the actions of human beings, Mr. Thorold. It would not -surprise me in the least to hear that Warrender had written out the -whole story in a diary. If so, his wife must have found it amongst his -papers, and she will be disposed to sell it--at a long price."</p> - -<p>"If she had found such a document, she would have shown it to me or to -Sophy before now."</p> - -<p>"By no means. If she knew that Marlow were alive, then, of course, she -would realize that the document was valuable. But she believes him to -be dead."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" said Alan. "You seem very certain that such a document -exists."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I am too sanguine," admitted Blair; "but Mr. Marlow gave me a -full account of what happened on the night Achille was murdered. -Moreover, he swore that he was innocent, and I believe him. As to -Warrender, he was a scoundrel, and I am sure that, like all -scoundrels, he has left a record of his villainies in black and white. -If this is so, I can prove Marlow's innocence, and he can defy -Lestrange."</p> - -<p>By this time Alan and the inspector were walking along the road which -led to Heathton. It was a bright, sunny morning, and Alan was in high -spirits. How happy Blair's news would make Sophy!</p> - -<p>"And Warrender, what about his death?" he asked. "Does Marlow know who -killed him?"</p> - -<p>"Strange as it may seem, he does not, Mr. Thorold. He is as ignorant -as you or I. That death is a mystery still."</p> - -<p>"But if Warrender was killed on the heath----"</p> - -<p>"I can't explain, Mr. Thorold. Hear Marlow's story, and you will be as -much in the dark as I am. But I suspect Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"So did I," replied Alan, speaking in the past tense. "But I learned -for certain that Lestrange was not in England on the night of the -murder."</p> - -<p>"I proved that, too," said Blair thoughtfully; "yet I can't help -thinking there is some trickery. Lestrange is at the Good Samaritan?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, dancing on Miss Marlow's doorstep in the hope of getting money."</p> - -<p>"Does he receive any letters?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Why?"</p> - -<p>"Merely an idea of mine. I'll tell you later on what I think."</p> - -<p>"You are keeping me very much in the dark, Blair," said Alan, somewhat -piqued.</p> - -<p>"I don't care to show incomplete work," replied the inspector bluntly. -"I believe I can unravel the whole of this mystery, but I don't want -to show you the raw material. Let me work it out my own way, Mr. -Thorold, and judge me by the result."</p> - -<p>"As you please. So long as you do it, I don't care how you go about -it."</p> - -<p>"I am working for two thousand pounds," said Blair, "and I don't -intend to let any one else have it. That blackguard tramp would like -to be the man."</p> - -<p>Alan laughed.</p> - -<p>"He has already made a clutch at it by accusing me of the theft of Mr. -Marlow's body."</p> - -<p>The inspector nodded and smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>"The two are working in unison," said he, rubbing his hands; "but I'll -catch them."</p> - -<p>"By the way," said Thorold, "is Mr. Marlow coming back here?"</p> - -<p>"To be caught by Lestrange? No, I think not. He is not such a fool. If -you want to see him, you must go to Brighton."</p> - -<p>"I shall go to-morrow, Blair. I am most anxious to hear the story of -that night."</p> - -<p>"A strange story--more like fiction than truth."</p> - -<p>"Truth is always stranger than fiction."</p> - -<p>Blair assented. They walked on through a steep lane, which led into -the High Street of the village. As they breasted this, Mrs. Marry, -with a basket on her arm, met them. She was evidently excited.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Marry," said Alan kindly, "what is it?"</p> - -<p>"The poor dear isn't dead, after all," cried the panting woman. "I -declare, Mr. Thorold, you could ha' knocked me down wi' a feather when -I saw him."</p> - -<p>"Saw who?"</p> - -<p>"Why, Mr. Brown, sir--the Quiet Gentleman. He has come back!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_20" href="#div1Ref_20">CHAPTER XX.</a></h4> -<h5>THE AMAZEMENT OP ALAN THOROLD</h5> -<br> - -<p>Mrs. Marry delivered her startling piece of news with an air of -triumph. She did not guess for one moment how very important it was, -or in what peril it placed the Quiet Gentleman.</p> - -<p>"He came back last night," she continued, "and he told me with his -fingers how he had been lying ill in London town. Poor dear! he took -it into his head to go for a jaunt, he says, and went by the night -train. He meant to have come back to me next morning, but a nasty -influenza took him and kept him away. I'm that glad he's come back I -can't tell!" cried Mrs. Marry joyfully, "for he do pay most reg'lar, -and gives not a bit of trouble, innocent babe that he is!" and having -imparted her news, she hurried on down the lane.</p> - -<p>The two men stood looking at one another.</p> - -<p>"Brown back again!" said Alan. "Now we shall know the truth."</p> - -<p>"If he knows it," said Blair dryly--he was less excited than his -companion--"but I doubt if we shall learn much from him, Mr. Thorold. -If he had anything to do with the murder, he would not have come -back."</p> - -<p>"But he must have something to do with it, man! Have you forgotten -that it was he who stole the key of the vault from my desk?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Blair pointedly, "nor have I forgotten that he did not use -the key. It was Joe Brill who opened the vault."</p> - -<p>"Indeed! And where did Joe get the key? Not from Mr. Phelps, for he -still has his key. Ha!" cried Alan suddenly, "did Joe get it from -Brown?"</p> - -<p>"No, he did not. The key was not used at all. There was a third key in -existence, of which neither you nor Mr. Phelps were aware. Marlow had -had it made to provide against the contingency which arose. He had -always resolved to feign death, should Lestrange track him. So he kept -the third key, and Joe used it on that night."</p> - -<p>"Well, even granting that such is the case, why should Brown have -stolen my key? And how could he have known that it was in my desk?"</p> - -<p>"I think we discussed that point before," replied the inspector -composedly, "and that we came to the conclusion that Brown overheard -your conversation with Mr. Phelps on the day of the funeral. Where are -you going?"</p> - -<p>"To see Brown. I am determined to get the truth out of him."</p> - -<p>Blair looked at him.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Thorold," he said, "I don't suppose it will do any harm for -you to see the man. Meanwhile I will go on to Mrs. Warrender's."</p> - -<p>"But you ought to come with me and arrest him."</p> - -<p>"I do not think I have sufficient evidence to procure a warrant, Mr. -Thorold. A charge of murder is serious, you see."</p> - -<p>"Pooh! pooh! I don't want him arrested for murder, but on the charge -of breaking open my desk."</p> - -<p>"I could do that certainly. Well, you go and see him, Mr. Thorold, -while I interview Mrs. Warrender. I'll call along at the cottage -later. You needn't let Brown out of your sight until I come."</p> - -<p>"You'll arrest him?"</p> - -<p>"If you wish it; I'll take the risk."</p> - -<p>"Very good, I'm off!" and with an abrupt nod Alan ran down the lane. -Blair looked after him with a queer smile on his dry face. He had his -own ideas regarding the termination of Alan's attempt to make Brown -the mysterious speak out.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Warrender was at home when the inspector called. At first she -felt she could not see him, for the idea of coming into contact with -the police was abhorrent to her. She wondered if Blair could have -discovered the relationship which existed between herself and Cicero, -and it was her anxiety to ascertain this which made her grant the -inspector an interview. If her brother were playing her false, the -more she knew about his plans the better would she be able to -frustrate them. Mrs. Warrender was a capable woman, and had a genius -for intrigue. She was quite decided that she could hold her own even -against the trained intelligence of a police officer.</p> - -<p>And so it came about that the gentleman in question was shown into the -drawing-room, a meretricious, gaudy apartment, which betrayed in -furniture and decoration the tawdry taste of the doctor's widow.</p> - -<p>She came forward to receive him in an elaborate tea-gown of pink silk -trimmed with lace, and, in spite of the early hour, she wore a -quantity of jewels. Blair had an eye for beauty, and could not deny -that this lady was a fine woman, though, perhaps, too much of the -ponderous type. He wondered why she did not wear mourning. She could -have cared but little for her husband, he thought, to appear in gay -colors so soon after his untimely end. But, in truth, Mrs. Warrender -had never professed to be an affectionate wife. She had married for a -home, and made no secret of it.</p> - -<p>"Good-morning," she said, with a sharp glance at Blair's impassive -face. "I understand that you belong to the police, and that you wish -to see me--why, I cannot conceive."</p> - -<p>"If you will permit me to explain myself, I will soon give you my -reasons," said the inspector, in his best manner. "May I sit down? -Thank you. Now we can talk at our ease."</p> - -<p>"I suppose it is about the sad end of my poor husband," she said, in -tones of grief, which her gay attire somewhat belied. "Have you found -out the truth?"</p> - -<p>"No; but I hope to do so--with your assistance."</p> - -<p>She looked up suddenly.</p> - -<p>"If you think I killed the poor lamb, you are mistaken," she said. "I -can account for all my actions on that night, policeman."</p> - -<p>This last was hurled at Blair with the object of keeping him well in -mind of her condescension in receiving him.</p> - -<p>"I never had the slightest suspicion of you," he protested. "My errand -has to do with quite a different matter. And might I suggest," he -added, a trifle testily, "that I am usually addressed as Inspector -Blair?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course, if you insist upon it!" she cried, with a shrug. -"Inspector Blair--will that do?"</p> - -<p>"That will do very well, thank you." He paused, and stared hard at the -expensive tea-gown and the aggressive jewelry until the widow became -restive. "Are you rich?" he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>"What has that got to do with you?" cried Mrs. Warrender furiously. -"Remember you are talking to a lady!"</p> - -<p>"To a rich lady or to a poor one?"</p> - -<p>"Upon my soul, this is too much? Mind your business, Inspector Blair!"</p> - -<p>"This is my business," he retorted, keeping himself well in hand. "I -merely asked you the question, because, if you are not rich, then I -come to make you so."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Answer my question first: Are you rich?" And he took another good -look at the dress and the jewels.</p> - -<p>"No," she said sullenly, "I am not. My husband left me fairly well -off, but not with so much money as I expected."</p> - -<p>"Then you would not object to making some more?"</p> - -<p>Her eyes lighted up with the fire of greed.</p> - -<p>"I should! I should! I am dying to leave this dull village and take up -a position in London; but I cannot do it without money." She paused, -then clapped her hands. "I see," she cried; "Sophy Marlow is going to -compensate me for the death of my husband. It would be easy enough -with all the millions she has!"</p> - -<p>"I am sure it would," assented Blair coolly; "but I don't mean to -supply you with money for nothing."</p> - -<p>"You! What have you to do with the matter?"</p> - -<p>"A good deal. Mr. Thorold and Miss Marlow will rely on my advice."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Miss Marlow!" jeered Mrs. Warrender, sitting up. "That is her -name, is it, Inspector Blair? Are you sure it isn't Marie Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>He leaned forward and caught her wrist in a grip of steel.</p> - -<p>"So you know the truth, then?" he said. "Give me the confession."</p> - -<p>"What confession? What do you mean?" she cried, trying to release her -hand.</p> - -<p>"The confession left by your husband, in which he tells the story of -Achille Lestrange's murder."</p> - -<p>"I--I--I don't know----"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you do; yes, you do--no lies!" He shook her wrist. "You know -that Marlow never murdered Captain Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Let go my wrist!" cried Mrs. Warrender, and succeeded in wrenching -herself free. "What do you mean by behaving like this? I know nothing -about the matter--there!"</p> - -<p>Blair jumped up and made for the door.</p> - -<p>"Very good. Then you lose the money. I have got for you."</p> - -<p>"Come back! come back!" She followed him to the door and laid her hand -on his shoulder. "Don't be in a hurry. Is there--is there money in -it?"</p> - -<p>"If you have the confession, yes."</p> - -<p>"How much?"</p> - -<p>"We will talk of that when I know the truth. Have you a confession?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have." She thought she might with safety admit as much. "I -found the whole story of Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange and Mr. Beauchamp -amongst my business papers--my husband's papers, I should say. It was -signed and witnessed in New Orleans. It seems Warrender was dying -there, and wanted to tell Mr. Beauchamp--Marlow, I mean--the truth, so -he had the confession drawn up by a lawyer. Afterwards, when he got -well, he did not destroy it."</p> - -<p>"Beauchamp was innocent of the murder, then?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He knocked Achille Lestrange down, but he did not kill him."</p> - -<p>"Aha! I thought so!" chuckled Blair, rubbing his hands. "Who did?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Warrender drew back with a look of cunning on her face.</p> - -<p>"That's tellings," said she, relapsing into the speech of her people. -"I don't part with my secret unless I get my price."</p> - -<p>"Name your price."</p> - -<p>"Two thousand pounds."</p> - -<p>"What!" cried the inspector. "Two thousand pounds for clearing the -memory of a dead man! My dear lady, five hundred is nearer the mark."</p> - -<p>"Two thousand," she repeated. "If Sophy Marlow has the millions left -by her supposed father, she can well afford that."</p> - -<p>"Humph! We'll see. I must speak to Mr. Thorold first. You have the -confession?"</p> - -<p>"I have--safely put away. It was my intention to have seen Sophy -Marlow about it, but I thought I'd wait."</p> - -<p>"To see what price you could get?" put in Blair.</p> - -<p>"Quite so. I'm a woman of business. If I don't get my price, I burn -that confession."</p> - -<p>"You dare not! I can have you arrested, remember."</p> - -<p>She snapped her fingers.</p> - -<p>"Pooh!" she said. "I don't care for your threats. This is my one -chance of making money, and I'm going to take it. Two thousand pounds -or nothing."</p> - -<p>"I'll think it over," said Blair. "I am to have the refusal of that -confession, mind."</p> - -<p>"What! Do you want to make money too?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly," said Blair, with irony; "I am a man of business."</p> - -<p>She laughed, and took leave of him in a very amiable frame of mind. -When he had gone, she smirked in front of a mirror and took a long -look at herself.</p> - -<p>"Two thousand pounds," she cried, "and my own savings! I'm not so old, -after all. I'll run away from Cicero and marry again. Ha! ha! I've -made a deal this time!" And she went in to luncheon with a most -excellent appetite.</p> - -<p>While this interview was taking place, Alan had been at Mrs. Harry's -cottage. Having received no orders to the contrary, she ushered him -into the sitting-room. There sat the Quiet Gentleman in his gray suit. -At sight of Alan he started violently.</p> - -<p>"Good-day, Mr. Brown," said his visitor, looking closely at him. "I -have come to see you about that key you stole. You are dumb, I -believe, but not deaf, so no doubt you follow my meaning."</p> - -<p>The Quiet Gentleman made a step forward, and, to the amazement of his -visitor, he spoke.</p> - -<p>"Alan," he said--"Alan Thorold!"</p> - -<p>The young man dropped into a chair, white and shaking. He knew that -voice--he knew what was coming.</p> - -<p>With a laugh the Quiet Gentleman pulled off his wig and beard.</p> - -<p>"Don't you know me, Alan?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Richard Marlow!" gasped Alan.</p> - -<p>"Herbert Beauchamp," was the quiet reply.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_21" href="#div1Ref_21">CHAPTER XXI.</a></h4> -<h5>THE STORY OF THE PAST</h5> -<br> - -<p>"Come, Alan," said Beauchamp after a pause, "you need not be -tongue-tied with astonishment. I sent Blair on to tell you all that -had happened, so you must have known that I was alive."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes--but your disguise," stammered the young man. "I expected to -see Brown. You are not Brown, never could have been; for when he was -here, I have seen you and him at the same time."</p> - -<p>"That's all right, my boy. I was not Brown, as you say, and who Brown -was I know no more than you do. But I am Brown now," with emphasis, -"and Brown I shall remain until I can show myself with safety as -Richard Marlow. Not that I intended to stick to that name. No; if -Blair is right, and that scoundrel Warrender has left papers to prove -my innocence, I shall take my own name. But this disguise! It is a -plot between me and Blair. It was necessary that I should be on the -spot, so we thought this was as good a mask as any. Oh, depend upon -it, Alan, I am perfectly safe here from Jean Lestrange!"</p> - -<p>As he spoke, Beauchamp was putting on his wig and beard. And when this -was done to his satisfaction, he seated himself on a chair opposite to -Alan, looking the very image of the Quiet Gentleman. Thorold did not -wonder that Mrs. Marry had been deceived--the completeness of the -disguise would have deceived a cleverer woman.</p> - -<p>"Still," said he doubtfully, "if the real Brown should reappear----"</p> - -<p>"We will have him arrested for the murder of Warrender," said -Beauchamp quietly. "Yes, I am convinced he is guilty, else why did he -steal the key of the vault? Blair told me about that. He must surely -be some tool of Jean Lestrange's. No, not the man himself--I am aware -of that. Blair saw the passenger-list."</p> - -<p>"Are you certain that the Quiet Gentleman killed Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"No, because I did not see the blow struck. I was insensible at the -time--but it is a long story, and to make things perfectly clear, I -must begin at the beginning. One moment, Alan." Beauchamp crossed to -the door and turned the key. "I don't want Mrs. Marry to come in."</p> - -<p>"She will hear your voice, and believing you to be dumb----"</p> - -<p>"I'll speak low. Come nearer to this chair. First tell me how Sophy -is."</p> - -<p>"Very well, but much cast down. She thinks you are dead, and that your -body has been stolen. Oh, Beauchamp!" cried Alan passionately, "why -did you not trust Sophy and me? You would have spared us both many an -unhappy hour."</p> - -<p>"I wish now that I had told you, but I acted for the best. I had -little time for thought. I expected daily that Lestrange would appear. -If I had only considered the matter rather more--but there, it's done -and we must make the best of it. Sophy's tears will be turned to -smiles shortly--if, indeed, she still loves me, knowing that I am not -her father," and the old man sighed.</p> - -<p>"You need have no fear on that score," said Alan, with a faint smile. -He was getting over the first shock of surprise. "Sophy would have -nothing to do with Jean Lestrange, although she half believed his -story. She always insists that you are her true father. She will -welcome you back with the greatest joy."</p> - -<p>"She must welcome me secretly."</p> - -<p>"Secretly--why? Should your innocence be established, you would surely -reappear as Richard Marlow?"</p> - -<p>"What! And have the whole story in the papers? No, Alan, I shall spend -the rest of my life under my true name of Beauchamp, and live on the -two thousand a year I left myself in my will. You and Sophy can marry -and take the rest of the money. I shall travel, and take Joe with me."</p> - -<p>"Well, perhaps it is the best thing to do," said Thorold. "But tell -me, how was it that the manager of the Occidental Bank reported you -dead?"</p> - -<p>"Joe wrote to him by my order to say so. When Joe came to me at -Brighton and told me how the death of Warrender had complicated -matters, I was afraid lest I should be traced, and perhaps accused of -a second murder. So I thought it best to put it about that I was dead, -and end all pursuit."</p> - -<p>"If you had only trusted me, sir, all this trouble would have been -avoided. I merited your confidence, I think."</p> - -<p>"I know--I know. Indeed, on that day when I spoke to you of the -probability that my body would not be allowed to rest in its grave, I -had half a mind to tell you. But somehow the moment passed. Even then -I had designed my plot of feigning death. It was the only way I saw of -escaping Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Tell me the story from the beginning," said Alan. "I know only -scraps."</p> - -<p>"The beginning was in Jamaica, Alan," said Beauchamp sadly. "All this -trouble arose out of the love I had for Sophy's mother. Poor Zelia! if -only she had married me, I would have made her a good husband. As it -was, she chose Achille Lestrange, a roué and a gambler, a spendthrift -and a scoundrel. I could never tell Sophy what a bad man her father -was. He treated poor Zelia abominably."</p> - -<p>"But was that altogether his fault, Beauchamp? Joe hinted that Jean -Lestrange caused much of the trouble."</p> - -<p>"So he did, the scoundrel! Jean was, if anything, worse than his -cousin, though there was not much to choose between them. But Jean was -madly in love with Zelia--worshiped her with all the fierce passion of -a Creole. When he lost her he vowed he would be revenged--he sowed -dissension between them on my account."</p> - -<p>"He hinted that you were in love with her, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, and he was right!" cried Beauchamp with emphasis. "I was in love -with Zelia, and pitied her from the bottom of my heart. Well, a year -after Sophy was born things came to a crisis. I was at Kingston, and -my yacht in the harbor there. I saw a good deal of Zelia, and one -night she came on board with her child, and asked me to take her away. -Lestrange had struck her, the beast! and she had refused to live with -him any longer. At first I hesitated, but she was in such a state of -agony that I consented to take her away from her wretched life. I had -to go first to Falmouth to fetch some things which I did not wish to -leave--I had sold my plantation some time before, having made up my -mind to leave Jamaica. So we sailed, reached Falmouth in safety, and I -went to my estate, leaving Joe Brill on board."</p> - -<p>"Ah! that was why Joe could not say who killed Achille?"</p> - -<p>"Precisely. Joe knew little of the events of that night; but he -believed in me, and stood by me like the noble, faithful fellow he is. -But to continue: Zelia arrived at my house only to die; worry and -melancholy had brought her to a low state of health, and she caught a -fever. On the very night Jean and her husband came in pursuit she -died. I had made all arrangements to sail; I had sold my estate, and -had sent the proceeds to England. It had been my intention to have -married Zelia when Achille had divorced her, to adopt little Marie, -and to start life afresh in a new land. Her death put an end to these -plans."</p> - -<p>"But the murder, Beauchamp?"</p> - -<p>"I am coming to that. Warrender was attending Zelia when she died, and -he was in the house when Achille and Jean arrived. I was quite -determined he should not get the child; for Zelia had left some money, -and I knew well that Achille would soon squander it. Well, Lestrange -demanded his wife. I told him she was dead; he declined to believe me, -and we quarreled. I am naturally of a fiery temper," continued -Beauchamp with some agitation, "and I knocked him down on the veranda. -The blow stunned him, and he lay there like a dog."</p> - -<p>"Was Jean present?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He saw me knock Achille down; then he went away to see the body -of Zelia. I had to look for the child, intending to take her to my -yacht until such time as I could obtain the guardianship. When I came -out again I found Warrender kneeling down beside the body of Achille. -He was dead!"</p> - -<p>"Not from the effects of your blow?" cried Alan incredulously.</p> - -<p>"No. He had been stabbed to the heart while senseless."</p> - -<p>"By whom--Warrender?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Warrender always swore that his hands were clean of -blood, and certainly he had no reason to murder Achille. I suspected -Jean, but Warrender told me that Jean had been in Zelia's room praying -beside the body. He advised me to fly."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes; but who killed Achille?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I supposed it must have been a negro whom Achille had brought -with him--a Zambo, called Scipio, who was devoted to his mistress and -who hated his master. On hearing that Zelia was dead--knowing, as he -did, that her husband's brutality had probably had a good deal to do -with it--he might have stabbed Achille as he lay senseless on the -veranda. At any rate, Warrender said that he found him dead when he -came out. To this day I don't know who killed him. It must have been -either Warrender, Scipio, or Jean. I am inclined to suspect Scipio. -However, at the time there was nothing for it but flight if I wanted -to escape an accusation of murder. You see bow strong the evidence was -against me, Alan. I had taken away Achille's wife and child; he had -come in pursuit; I had quarreled with him and knocked him down; he had -been found dead. Therefore I fled with the child. Can you blame me?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Alan decisively. "Under the circumstances, I don't see what -else you could do. So you escaped?"</p> - -<p>"I did. I went on board my yacht and told Joe all. Of course, he -believed in my innocence, and strongly advised me to leave at once. We -sailed down the coast of South America, round the Horn, and home to -England. I called myself Richard Marlow, and I sold the yacht under -another name at a French seaport. I had plenty of money, and there was -no one who suspected my past."</p> - -<p>"I suppose the news of the murder had not reached England?"</p> - -<p>"No. I believe there was a casual reference in one of the papers, but -that was all. The yacht was supposed to have foundered. I felt secure -from pursuit, and determined to start a new life. I gave out that -Marie was my daughter, and I called her Sophy. Then I placed her in -the convent at Hampstead, with a sum of money for her education, and -besides that, I secured a certain sum on her for life in case of my -death. When this was settled I went to Africa. There Fortune, tired of -persecuting me, gave me smiles instead of frowns. I made a fortune in -the gold-mines, and became celebrated as Richard Marlow the -millionaire. The rest of my story you know."</p> - -<p>"Up to a point," said Alan significantly. "I know how you bought this -place and settled here with Sophy. But the letter from Barkham----"</p> - -<p>"Ah! Joe told you about that, did he?" said Beauchamp composedly. -"Yes, the letter was from an old friend of mine called Barkham. He -told me that Jean Lestrange had recognized my portrait in an -illustrated paper, and that he intended to come to England to hunt me -down. The letter was sent to the office of the paper, and by them -forwarded here. You may guess my feelings. I thought myself lost. I -showed the letter to Warrender, and he suggested that I should feign -death. I jumped at the idea, made a will, allowing myself an income -under my true name of Herbert Beauchamp, got another key of the vault -fashioned from the one which afterwards was taken to Phelps, and took -Joe into my confidence. Then Warrender drugged me."</p> - -<p>"What did he give you?" asked Alan. "You looked really dead."</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you the name of the drug. He said it was some vegetable -preparation used by the negroes. Then I died--apparently--and I was -buried. They had bored holes in the coffin, and that night, when you -were all absent, Joe and Warrender took me out of the vault and -carried me to the hut on the heath, where Warrender revived me. It was -while he was doing this that he heard a noise, and ran out. He never -came back, and when I was myself again we went out to find his body. -He was quite dead, stabbed to the heart, and lying some distance from -the hut. Who killed him I do not know."</p> - -<p>"But how did his body get into the vault?"</p> - -<p>"Joe did it. After he had got me away, he dragged the body into the -hut, and next night came back and took it to the vault. He put it into -the coffin, never dreaming that any one would look for it there. Nor -would they, and all would have been well had it not been for that man -Cicero Gramp. He saw too much, and----"</p> - -<p>He was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_22" href="#div1Ref_22">CHAPTER XXII.</a></h4> -<h5>HE BEGINNING OF THE END</h5> -<br> - -<p>Alan started to his feet at that imperative summons. Had Beauchamp -been overheard by Mrs. Marry? Had his disguise been penetrated? Had -she brought some one to witness the discovery? These thoughts rushed -through his mind with lightning speed, and for the moment he lost his -presence of mind. Not so the man who was truly in danger. Adopting the -peculiar shuffle of the Quiet Gentleman, he crossed the room and -opened the door. As the key turned in the lock Alan fully expected to -see Lestrange, menacing and sinister, on the threshold. But the -newcomer proved to be Blair.</p> - -<p>"How are you getting on, Mr. Thorold?" he said, stepping through the -door, which Beauchamp locked behind him. "You know now who the Quiet -Gentleman is. Don't look so scared, sir."</p> - -<p>"Can't help it," muttered the young man.</p> - -<p>"This business has been rather too much for me. I thought when you -knocked, that Lestrange had run his prey to earth."</p> - -<p>"He won't get much out of his prey if he does," said Blair, with a nod -to Beauchamp. "I have seen Mrs. Warrender."</p> - -<p>The old man turned as white as the beard he wore.</p> - -<p>"And--and--what does she say?" he stammered.</p> - -<p>"Say!" Blair seated himself and chuckled. "She says two thousand -pounds will pay her for that confession."</p> - -<p>"Then it does exist! Warrender knew the truth!"</p> - -<p>"Of course. Didn't I tell you the man was a blackmailing scoundrel? -Faith! and his wife is not much better. Two thousand pounds for a bit -of paper!"</p> - -<p>"And for my freedom!" said Beauchamp excitedly. "Oh to think of being -free from the horror which has hung over me all these years! And -Warrender knew the truth! What a scoundrel! He always swore that he -knew nothing, and I paid him money to hold his tongue about my -supposed guilt. Ungrateful wretch! He and his wife arrived in England -almost penniless. I met him in London, and, as he knew my story, I -brought him down here. I helped him in every way. How was it he left a -confession behind him?"</p> - -<p>"It is an old confession," replied Blair. "It seems that Warrender -fell ill of fever in New Orleans. His conscience smote him for his -villainy, and he made a full confession, signed it, and had it -witnessed. When he recovered he did not destroy it, but kept it safely -with the rest of his papers. There Mrs. Warrender found it, and she is -now prepared to sell it for two thousand pounds. A nice sum, upon my -word!" grumbled Blair.</p> - -<p>"She shall have it," said Beauchamp eagerly. "I would pay five -thousand for that confession--I would indeed!"</p> - -<p>"I dare say. But Mrs. Warrender will give it to you for the lesser -sum, sir."</p> - -<p>"Does she know that I am here? Did you tell her?"</p> - -<p>"Not such a fool, Mr. Beauchamp. She'd have asked five thousand if she -had known that. The woman has the blackmailing instinct."</p> - -<p>"Like her brother," put in Alan. Then, observing the looks of surprise -directed at him by the other two, he added: "Didn't you know? Cicero -Gramp is Mrs. Warrender's brother. I found that out in London."</p> - -<p>"A nice pair of jail-birds!" cried Blair. "I'd best get that -confession at once, or she'll be giving it to Cicero, and they'll -demand more money. Mr. Beauchamp, can you give me a check?"</p> - -<p>"No," he said, shaking his head. "You forget, Blair, I am dead and -buried, and, what's more, I do not intend ever to come to life again -as Marlow. But Mr. Thorold, as Sophy's trustee, can give you the -money."</p> - -<p>"If Blair will come to the Abbey Farm, I will do so," said Alan, -rising. "I agree that the sooner the confession is obtained the -better, or Cicero may give trouble. By the way, who was it killed -Achille, Blair? Was it the doctor himself?"</p> - -<p>"No, no!" cried Beauchamp. "It was Scipio, the negro."</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you that;" and the inspector shook his head. "Mrs. -Warrender declares that you are innocent, Mr. Beauchamp; but she -declines to give any further information until she has received her -pound of flesh."</p> - -<p>"She shall have it this very day," said Alan, putting on his cap. -"Come, Blair. Mr. Beauchamp, will you remain here?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. I am safer as the Quiet Gentleman than as anything else."</p> - -<p>"You don't want me to bring Sophy here?"</p> - -<p>"Not until we get that confession, Alan. Sophy might make a scene when -she met me. Mrs. Marry would learn the truth, and the news would -spread. If Lestrange knew, all would be lost. Get the confession, -Alan."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I think that is the best plan. Good-day, Mr. Brown," said the -inspector, speaking for the benefit of Mrs. Marry, and with Alan he -left the house.</p> - -<p>Alone again, Beauchamp fell on his knees and thanked God that his -innocence was about to be vindicated. For years he had lived in dread -of discovery; now he was about to be relieved of the nightmare.</p> - -<p>Talking as they went of the strange and unexpected turn the Case, as -Blair called it, had taken, the two men walked through Heathton and -out on to the country road. On turning down a quiet lane which led to -the Abbey Farm, they saw a ponderous man behaving in a most -extraordinary manner. He danced in the white dust, he shook his fist -at the sky, and he spun round like a distracted elephant. Blair's keen -eye recognized him at once.</p> - -<p>"Very pretty, Mr. Cicero Gramp," he observed dryly. "Are you in -training for a ballet-dancer?"</p> - -<p>The man stopped short, and turned a disturbed face on them.</p> - -<p>"I'll be even with him!" he gasped, wiping his streaming forehead. -"Oh, the wretch! oh, the Judas! Gentlemen, proceed, and leave an -unhappy man to fight down a whirl of conflicting emotions. <i>E pluribus -unum!</i>" quoted Cicero, in a pathetic voice; "that is me--Ai! Ai! I -utter the wail of Orestes."</p> - -<p>"And, like Orestes, you seem to be mad," observed Alan, as the fat man -returned to his dancing.</p> - -<p>"And no wonder, Mr. Thorold. I have lost thousands. Lestrange----"</p> - -<p>Cicero could say no more. He was choked with emotion, and gave vent to -his feelings by shaking his fist at the sky.</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Blair, who had been taking in the situation, "Lestrange! -You have found a cleverer villain than yourself."</p> - -<p>"He has gone away!" roared Cicero, with the voice of an angry bull. -"Yes, you may look. He went this morning, bag and baggage. I don't -know where he is, save that he roams the wilderness of London. And my -money--he paid his bill to mine hostess of the hostel with my money!"</p> - -<p>"The deuce he did!" said Alan. "And how did you come to lend him -money?"</p> - -<p>"I do not mind explaining," said Mr. Gramp, with a defiant glance at -the gentleman who represented the police. "I went into partnership -with Lestrange. He had no money; I lent him a goodly part of your -fifty pounds, Mr. Thorold, on an undertaking that I should get half of -what he received from Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"A very creditable bargain," remarked Alan grimly; "but you invested -your cash in a bad cause, Mr. Gramp. I saw Lestrange last night, and -assured him that he would not get one penny of the blackmail he -proposed to extort. I dare say, after my visit, he found the game was -up, and thought it advisable to clear out. I should recommend you to -do the same."</p> - -<p>"So should I," put in Blair significantly, "or I'll have you arrested -as a vagabond without proper means of support."</p> - -<p>"I am a professor of eloquence and elocution!" cried Cicero, his fat -cheeks turning pale at this stern hint. "You dare not arrest me; and -you, Mr. Thorold, will be sorry if you do not employ me."</p> - -<p>"Employ you? In which way?"</p> - -<p>"To hunt Lestrange down."</p> - -<p>Alan shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I do not wish to see the man again."</p> - -<p>"But I know something about him. Promise to pay me some money, and -I'll show you a letter written to Captain Lestrange, which came to the -inn after he left. I took it and opened it to find out his plans."</p> - -<p>"Well, you are a scoundrel!" said Alan, looking Mr. Gramp's portly -figure up and down. "By opening another person's letter you have -placed yourself within reach of the law."</p> - -<p>"I don't care!" cried Cicero recklessly. "I am desperate. Will you pay -me for a sight of that letter?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the inspector before Alan could reply, "if it is worth -paying for. On the other hand, you could be arrested for opening it. -Come, the letter!"</p> - -<p>Cicero produced the document in question, and kept firm hold of it -while he made his bargain.</p> - -<p>"How much, Mr. Thorold?"</p> - -<p>"If it proves to be of use," replied the young Squire leisurely, "I'll -pay you well. Leave the amount to me."</p> - -<p>The tramp still hesitated, but Inspector Blair, becoming impatient, -snatched it out of his hand and proceeded to read it aloud. It was a -short note to the effect that if the writer did not receive a certain -sum of money "at once" (underlined), he would come down to Heathton -and "tell all" (also underlined) to Miss Marlow. These few lines were -signed, "O. Barkham."</p> - -<p>"Barkham!" exclaimed Alan. "That must be the man who warned Beauchamp -that Lestrange was coming. I wonder what he knows."</p> - -<p>"Humph!" grunted Blair, putting the letter into his pocket, "very -likely he will be able to tell us sufficient to enable us to dispense -with Mrs. Warrender's confession. I am not particularly anxious to pay -her two thousand pounds for nothing."</p> - -<p>"Two thousand pounds!" wailed Cicero, with his eyes staring out of his -head. "Oh, Clara Maria! Has she got that out of you! My own sister--my -very own!" wept the old scamp, "and she won't go shares! Yet I offered -to work with her!" he finished.</p> - -<p>"I don't think you'll get a sixpence out of her," said Alan; "a desire -to grab money evidently runs in your family. However, if this letter -turns out to be of any assistance in clearing up these mysteries, I'll -see what I can do."</p> - -<p>Mr. Gramp, seeing no other alternative, accepted this offer.</p> - -<p>"When am I to get it?" he asked sulkily.</p> - -<p>"When I choose," Alan replied tartly. "Go back to the Good Samaritan, -and don't let me catch you annoying your sister, or I'll make it hot -for you!" and he moved away, followed by Blair.</p> - -<p>Cicero shook his fist at them, and spent the rest of the day making -futile guesses as to how much they would give him.</p> - -<p>"What's to do now, Blair?" asked Thorold abruptly.</p> - -<p>"I shall pay Mrs. Warrender and get the confession. You can take it to -Mr. Beauchamp and set his mind at rest."</p> - -<p>"And you--what will you do?"</p> - -<p>"Catch the 6.30 train to London. I shall go straight to the address -given in this letter"--Blair tapped his breast-pocket--"and see -Barkham, and," he added, "I shall see Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Will he be with Barkham?"</p> - -<p>"I think so. He--Lestrange, I mean--went away before he got this -letter. It is likely enough that he has gone to London to see his -accomplice."</p> - -<p>"If Barkham were an accomplice, he would not have written, warning -Beauchamp of Lestrange's departure from Jamaica."</p> - -<p>"It is on that point I wish to be clear," retorted Blair. "It seems to -me that Barkham is running with the hare and hunting with the hounds."</p> - -<p>"Well, I hope you'll find out sufficient to solve the mystery," said -Alan, bringing the conversation to a close; "but I confess I am -doubtful."</p> - -<p>The check duly written and safely deposited in the inspector's pocket, -the two men set out on their visit to Mrs. Warrender, who was -graciously pleased to accept the money, in exchange for which she -handed over the confession. Alan and Blair read it on the spot, -and were greatly astonished at the contents. Then the inspector -hurried away to catch the London train, and Alan set out for Mrs. -Marry's cottage, taking with him the precious document. Mrs. -Warrender--fearful lest the check should be stopped--left for London -by a later train. She had decided that she would cash it herself the -moment the bank opened the following morning. Her business capacities -were indeed undeniable.</p> - -<p>Alan returned home, tired out with the day's work, and was glad enough -to sit down to the excellent meal provided by Mrs. Hester. But his -troubles and excitements were not yet over. Hardly had he finished his -dinner when a note from Sophy was brought in.</p> - -<p>"Come at once," she wrote; "Lestrange is here."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_23" href="#div1Ref_23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></h4> -<h5>ONE PART OF THE TRUTH</h5> -<br> - -<p>After his interview with Alan, Captain Lestrange had come to the -conclusion that it would be the best and wisest course to retreat -before the enemy. Alan knew much, Brill knew more, and the two -together might prove too much for him. Moreover, since his design of -passing as Sophy's father had been rendered useless, it was not -necessary that he should remain in Heathton. Therefore, he paid his -account at the inn with money borrowed from Cicero, and departed in -hot haste before that gentleman was afoot. It was not until he got to -the Junction that he began to wonder if he was acting judiciously. It -struck him that he should have made at least one attempt to get money -out of Sophy.</p> - -<p>For some time he pondered over this question, and finally decided to -leave his baggage in the Junction cloak-room and steal back to -Heathton under cover of darkness. True, his accomplice Barkham was -waiting for him in London, but he would not get much of a welcome from -that gentleman unless he brought money with him. Moreover, after Joe's -intimation that it was Barkham who had warned Beauchamp of the plot to -hunt him down, Lestrange had had no confidence in him. But that -Barkham knew enough to be very dangerous, he would have left him out -of his calculations altogether. He decided at last that he must get -money out of Sophy, bribe Barkham to return to Jamaica, and then deal -alone and unaided with the lucrative business of extracting further -blackmail. Having made up his mind to this course of action, he -loitered about at the Junction until he could with safety return to -Heathton.</p> - -<p>It was during this tune that he had a surprise. While lurking in the -waiting-room, he saw Blair arrive by a local train and catch the -London express. What could he be doing? Was he hunting him down? The -very idea terrified him, and he began to congratulate himself on -having remained at the Junction. Had he known that Blair was now on -his way to see Barkham, he would have had still greater cause for -alarm. Matters were indeed coming to a crisis, but Lestrange did not -guess that the crisis was so near at hand.</p> - -<p>When he had seen the lights of the London express disappear, he took -his seat in a local train, which was timed to leave shortly after -eight o'clock. On arriving at Heathton, he left the station hurriedly, -and stole through deserted by-ways to the Moat House. Here he asked -for Miss Marlow, and sent in his card, on which he had scribbled, -"News of your father." The lie, which was not all a lie, gained him -the interview he sought; but before seeing him, Sophy sent off the -note to Alan. Then she induced Miss Vicky to retire, and received her -visitor alone in the drawing-room.</p> - -<p>The Captain entered the room with a somewhat cringing air. His nerve -was gone, and with it a goodly portion of his courage. Miss Marlow, on -the contrary, was quite mistress of herself and of the situation. She -had heard from Joe Brill, amongst other things, that this man was not -her father, and she now felt no fear of him. He was anxious and ill at -ease, like a culprit before a judge.</p> - -<p>"Good evening, Captain Lestrange," said Sophy, sitting very erect in -her chair. "You wish to see me, I believe. Why have you come?"</p> - -<p>"To make reparation, Miss Marlow."</p> - -<p>"Oh," she said ironically, "then I am not your daughter?"</p> - -<p>"I expect you have heard as much from Joe Brill," replied Lestrange, -looking at her gloomily. "No, you are not my daughter, but you are my -cousin, Marie Lestrange, although you choose to keep your name of -Sophia Marlow."</p> - -<p>"I keep the name of the man who has been a father to me."</p> - -<p>"In that case, you should call yourself Beauchamp," he retorted. "May -I sit down? Thank you. Well, I suppose you are wondering why I have -come to see you?"</p> - -<p>She glanced at the card.</p> - -<p>"To give me news of my father, I presume," she said. "Do you mean my -real father?"</p> - -<p>"No, I mean the false one. Your real father died long ago. He was -murdered by Beauchamp."</p> - -<p>"He was not!" cried Sophy vehemently, and started from her seat. "I -have heard the story from Joe, and I know now why you came here. But -nothing will induce me to believe that he killed my father. My mother -fled to him from the cruelty of her husband, and you were at the -bottom of all the trouble."</p> - -<p>"Yes," he cried fiercely, "I was! I loved your mother dearly. She gave -me up for Achille, and I swore I would be revenged. I sowed dissension -between them. It was through me that Zelia fled with Beauchamp. Do you -think I am sorry for what happened? I am not. I hated Achille; but he -is dead. I hate Beauchamp, for your mother loved him----"</p> - -<p>"And he also is dead," interrupted Sophy; "you cannot harm him."</p> - -<p>"Are you so sure he is dead?" sneered Lestrange.</p> - -<p>"I saw his dead body!" cried the girl, with emotion.</p> - -<p>"You saw him in a state of insensibility, brought about by Warrender's -devilish drugs!" said the Captain sharply. "I don't believe Beauchamp -is dead. If he had been, why should his body have been carried off?"</p> - -<p>"You declared that Mr. Thorold did that, and----"</p> - -<p>"I do not say so now. Thorold had nothing to do with it; but I am -quite sure that Warrender had. In order to escape me, Beauchamp -allowed himself to be drugged by Warrender, and that was why Warrender -assisted at the removal of the supposed dead body. I feel certain that -Beauchamp is alive."</p> - -<p>"Alive! Oh! I hope so, I hope so! My dear father!" cried Sophy. "Only -prove that he is alive, Captain Lestrange, and I will forgive you -all!"</p> - -<p>"You forget that I am his enemy," was the fierce reply. "Were I able -to prove that he is alive, I should at once have him arrested for the -murder of your father--my cousin."</p> - -<p>"It is not true! it is not true!"</p> - -<p>"It is, and you know it. Beauchamp must have had some very good and -strong reason for allowing himself to be buried alive so as to escape -me. But for your sake and for my own I will leave Beauchamp, should he -be indeed alive, to the punishment of his conscience."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"I mean that I want money. You are rich, and you can pay me. Give me a -thousand pounds, and I will go away and never trouble you again."</p> - -<p>"I refuse!" She walked up and down the room in a state of great -agitation. "If you were certain that Mr. Beauchamp was alive--if you -were certain he had committed that crime, you would not let him escape -so easily."</p> - -<p>"I would! I would! I am tired of the whole business."</p> - -<p>"No, no," insisted the girl; "I don't believe you. If I gave you -money, I should only be supplying you with the means to cause further -trouble. If my dear father--for I shall still call him so--is alive, I -will leave the matter in his hands."</p> - -<p>"And hang him."</p> - -<p>"And save him," retorted the girl firmly. "You can go, Captain -Lestrange. I shall not give you one penny!"</p> - -<p>Lestrange made a bound and caught her wrist.</p> - -<p>"Take care!" he cried, shaking with rage; "I am desperate--I will -stick at nothing. If you do not give the money I want, I shall go to -the police!"</p> - -<p>"Go! go! I defy you!"</p> - -<p>"Little devil!" muttered Lestrange, and he gave her arm a sharp twist.</p> - -<p>She screamed for help, and as though in answer to her summons, Alan -appeared at the door. With an exclamation of rage he sprang forward, -seized Lestrange, and flung him on the floor.</p> - -<p>"You hound!" he cried, panting. "You dog!"</p> - -<p>"Alan! Alan! Thank Heaven you are here! Let me sit down, Alan; I--I -feel faint."</p> - -<p>While Alan was assisting the girl to a chair, Lestrange rose slowly -from the ground. The sudden and opportune arrival of the young Squire -disconcerted him greatly, and he began to think it was time to retire. -If Sophy refused him money when alone, she would most certainly not -yield to his demand now that her lover was beside her. So with deadly -hatred in his heart, he stole towards the door, which was still open. -On the threshold he recoiled with a shrill cry of fear. Before him -stood Herbert Beauchamp, alias Richard Marlow.</p> - -<p>"You--you here, after all?"</p> - -<p>Beauchamp, shutting and locking the door after him, strode into the -room.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I live to punish you, Jean Lestrange. Hold him, Alan, while I -speak to Sophy."</p> - -<p>The girl, with a pale face and staring eyes, was looking at the man -who had come back from the grave. He approached and took her hands.</p> - -<p>"My poor child!" he said in caressing tones, "do not look so alarmed! -I am flesh and blood."</p> - -<p>"You are alive, father?" gasped Sophy, amazed and somewhat terrified.</p> - -<p>"Yes." He kissed her. "I feigned death to escape from this man. Come, -Sophy, have you no welcome for me? It is true that I am not your -father; but--after all----"</p> - -<p>"You are as dear to me as ever!" she cried, putting her arms round his -neck. "You are my true father--my real father! I shall never think of -you as anything else. Oh, thank God--thank God!" And she wept and -kissed him by turns.</p> - -<p>"Amen!" said Beauchamp in a solemn tone. "But we have much to do -before things are put straight. There is the cause of all my trouble, -and I must deal with him." He rose and crossed to where Lestrange, -white and shaking, was in the grip of Thorold. "What have you to say -for yourself, Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>The man made a violent effort to recover his self-control, and -partially succeeded.</p> - -<p>"I have to say to you what I shall shortly say to the world: You are a -murderer!"</p> - -<p>"That is a lie!"</p> - -<p>"It is no lie. You murdered that girl's father?"</p> - -<p>"That is a lie!" repeated Beauchamp sternly. "Do you think I am a -Judas, to kiss that innocent girl if I knew myself to be her father's -murderer? I knocked your cousin Achille senseless, and well he -deserved it; but it was not I who stabbed him to the heart. It was -you, Jean Lestrange!"</p> - -<p>"I--I----" gasped the wretch, his lips white, his limbs shaking under -him. "You dare--to--to--accuse--me--of----"</p> - -<p>"I do not accuse you," said Beauchamp solemnly. "Out of the mouth of -the dead you are condemned. Here is the confession of Warrender, and -in it he tells the truth. You are the murderer of Achille!"</p> - -<p>Sophy uttered a cry of horror, and throwing herself back on the couch, -hid her face from the guilty wretch. He strove to speak, but no words -came, and he continued to look silently on the ground. But for the -support of Thorold he would have fallen.</p> - -<p>"Warrender," continued Mr. Beauchamp, "himself almost as great a -villain as you, knew the truth these twenty years. But he kept silence -in order to terrorize me, to extort money from me. It was he who -proposed that I should escape you by feigning death, knowing, as he -did, that I was innocent. Well, he has been punished!"</p> - -<p>"I did not kill him, at all events!" cried Lestrange savagely.</p> - -<p>"I know you did not; you were not in England at the time. But you -killed Achille. Yes, you left the room where Zelia lay dead, you found -Achille senseless on the veranda, and you stabbed him to the heart. -Warrender saw you commit the crime. It is all set out here, and signed -by Warrender, in the presence of two witnesses. Can you deny it?"</p> - -<p>Lestrange moistened his dry lips, looked at Sophy, at Beauchamp, then -suddenly shook off Alan's hold.</p> - -<p>"No, I don't deny it," he said in a loud, harsh voice. "You have -been one too many for me. I am so poor as to be almost starving, so I -don't care what becomes of me. Hang me if you like. I hate you, -Beauchamp--I have always hated you, the more so when I found how much -Zelia cared for you. And I loved her, though that was not the reason I -killed her husband; for she was dead then, and could never be mine. -But I killed him so that blame might rest on you. And I wanted the -custody of the child, because I should have been able to handle the -money. I found Achille senseless where you had knocked him down. I did -not intend to do it; but I had a knife--and the devil put it into my -head to stab him. Then you fled, and the murder was laid at your -door."</p> - -<p>"And had you not done me harm enough, wretched man, without hunting me -down?" said Beauchamp sternly.</p> - -<p>"I wanted money," he cried recklessly. "I saw your portrait in the -paper, and I arranged with Barkham, who was as hard-up as I, that we -should come to England and get some of your money. He played the -traitor, and wrote you that letter--why, I don't know, as he stood to -make as much as I did. But for that letter I should have found you -alive, and I should have forced you to pay me. As it turned out, you -escaped me."</p> - -<p>"And will you escape me, do you think?" asked Beauchamp with emphasis.</p> - -<p>"I don't know--I don't care. Call in the police and have me arrested -if you like. I have played a bold game, and lost--do your worst!"</p> - -<p>He folded his arms, and stared defiantly at the man whose life he had -ruined.</p> - -<p>Beauchamp looked irresolutely at him, then he turned to Sophy, who, -pale and quiet, was clinging to her lover's arm.</p> - -<p>"The daughter of the man whose life you took shall be your judge," -said the millionaire. "Sophy, is he to go free, or shall the law take -its course?"</p> - -<p>"Let him go--let him go," murmured the girl. "His death shall not be -upon my soul. Let him go and repent."</p> - -<p>"I agree with Sophy," said Alan Thorold. "Let him go."</p> - -<p>"And repent," finished Mr. Beauchamp. "Go, Jean Lestrange, and seek -from an offended God the mercy you denied to me."</p> - -<p>Lestrange pulled himself together, and put on his hat with a would-be -jaunty air. He tried to speak, but the words would not come, and he -slunk out of the room like a beaten hound.</p> - -<p>And that was the last they ever saw of Jean Lestrange.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><a name="div1_24" href="#div1Ref_24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></h4> -<h5>THE OTHER PART OF THE TRUTH</h5> -<br> - -<p>Shortly afterwards Mr. Beauchamp returned to his lodgings as the Quiet -Gentleman. Having been informed by Alan, on his way to the Moat House, -that Lestrange was there with Sophy, he had taken off his false wig -and beard to confound him; but now, in spite of the girl's -protestations, he put them on again.</p> - -<p>"No, child, no," he said; "I am as dead as Richard Marlow, and I shall -not come to life again. What purpose would it serve? It would only -cause a scandal, and the papers would be full of the story. I have no -wish to be a nine days' wonder."</p> - -<p>"But, father, what will you do?--where will you live?"</p> - -<p>"Oh," said he, with a smile, "I dare say you will carry out the terms -of the will and let me have that two thousand a year. I shall take my -departure from Mrs. Marry's as the Quiet Gentleman, and appear in -London as Herbert Beauchamp. You can join me there, and we can go on -our travels."</p> - -<p>"But what about me?" cried poor Sophy, who had found her adopted -father only to lose him again.</p> - -<p>"You shall marry Alan."</p> - -<p>"But I want you to be at the wedding, father."</p> - -<p>"I shall be at the wedding, child, and I shall give you away."</p> - -<p>Alan looked at him in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Then you will be recognized, and the whole story will come out."</p> - -<p>"So it would if you were married here," answered Beauchamp composedly. -"But the wedding must take place in London. Can't you see, Alan, that -Sophy must be married to you under her true name--Marie Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, must I?" cried the girl in dismay.</p> - -<p>"I think so; otherwise I doubt if the marriage would hold good."</p> - -<p>"You are right," said Alan, after a pause. "We must do as you say. But -I am sorry. I wanted to be married here, and I wanted Phelps to marry -us."</p> - -<p>"There is no reason against that. Bring him to London and tell him the -whole story."</p> - -<p>"But I will never be called Marie!"</p> - -<p>"No, no; you will always be Sophy to us," said her lover, kissing her. -"And we will go abroad with Mr. Beauchamp for our honeymoon."</p> - -<p>"With my father!" cried Sophy, embracing the old man; "my dear and -only father!"</p> - -<p>He sighed as he kissed her good-by. He was devoted to his adopted -daughter, and felt deeply parting with her even to so good a fellow as -Alan Thorold. But he comforted himself with the thought that they -could be much together abroad. And so, taking this cheerful view of -the situation which had been created by the villainy of Lestrange, the -ex-millionaire, as he may now be called, withdrew to his lodgings. It -was there that Alan took leave of him, promising to call the next -morning. A thankful heart was Herbert Beauchamp's that night. The -sorrow of his life was over, the dark clouds had lifted, and now, -under his own name, and with a good income, he could spend the rest of -his days in peace. Lestrange had slunk back into the night whence he -had emerged, leaving one part of the mystery cleared up by his -confession. It still remained to discover who had been the murderer of -the unlucky Warrender. And that came to light the very next day.</p> - -<p>Alan did not wait until Beauchamp had departed for London to acquaint -his revered tutor with all that had taken place. On the afternoon of -the next day he proceeded to the Rectory, and told the whole story to -the amazed and delighted Phelps, Nothing would serve but that he must -go at once to Mrs. Marry's and see with his own eyes the man who had -been buried alive. But Alan restrained the Rector's impetuosity by -pointing out that Mrs. Marry supposed Brown, the Quiet Gentleman, to -be dumb. If by any chance she should hear him speak all secrecy would -be at an end.</p> - -<p>"Ay, ay," assented Mr. Phelps, "true enough, Alan, true enough. Mrs. -Marry is a terrible gossip, and we must keep the matter quiet. I don't -want my churchyard to be made the subject of another scandal. But I -must see Marlow--I mean Beauchamp. God bless me! I shall never -get his name right--may I be forgiven for swearing! Bring him here, -Alan--bring him at once. I must see my old friend after all he has -suffered."</p> - -<p>This Alan agreed to do, and an hour later appeared with Beauchamp and -Sophy. Phelps received his old friend as one returned from the dead, -and insisted upon having several points cleared up which he felt to be -obscure.</p> - -<p>"How about getting away, Marlow?" he asked. "You had no clothes. How -did you manage?"</p> - -<p>"But I had clothes," replied Beauchamp. "We prepared all our plans -very carefully. Joe took a suit of clothes to the hut, and brought -money with him. Then I walked to the nearest town and caught the train -for London. There, at a quiet hotel, a box in the name of Beauchamp -was waiting for me. I slept there, and went on to Brighton, and took -rooms in Lansdowne Place. I was comfortable, you may be sure. Joe came -down to see me, and told me all the trouble which had ensued upon the -death of Warrender."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" said Alan reflectively; "we don't know who murdered him, and we -never shall know. It could not have been Lestrange, and if it were the -Quiet Gentleman, he has escaped us."</p> - -<p>"I wonder who that Quiet Gentleman was," said Sophy.</p> - -<p>"We all wonder that, my dear," put in the Rector; "but I fear we shall -never know."</p> - -<p>"Well, what does it matter?" said Beauchamp, with more asperity than -he usually showed. "Whoever murdered Warrender gave him no more than -he deserved. The man was a blackmailer, although the money he got out -of me was obtained under the guise of friendship. He could have saved -me years of agony had he only spoken the truth--ay, and honesty would -have paid him better than dishonesty."</p> - -<p>"No doubt. But the man is dead; let us not speak evil of the -dead," said Phelps. "But there is one question I wish to ask you, -Marlow--Beauchamp, I mean. How was it that the page-boy swore Joe -Brill was never out of the room on that night?"</p> - -<p>"Joe drugged the lad's supper-ale, and slipped out when he was fast -asleep. He did the same the next night when he had to take Warrender's -body to the vault. That was my idea, for I was terrified lest I should -be traced by the murder, and I wanted to get rid of the evidence of -the crime. That tramp, confound him! spoilt all."</p> - -<p>They were interrupted by the entrance of a servant, with the card of -Inspector Blair. He was admitted at once, leaving a companion whom he -had brought with him in the hall.</p> - -<p>"You must excuse my intrusion, sir," he said, addressing Mr. Phelps; -"but I have already been to the Moat House and to the Abbey Farm in -search of Mr. Thorold."</p> - -<p>"Here I am," said Alan. "What is the matter, Blair? You have some -news."</p> - -<p>"I have, sir. I have been to London, and I have brought back with me a -gentleman whom Mr. Beauchamp may know;" and he summoned the gentleman -in the hall.</p> - -<p>"Barkham!" exclaimed Mr. Beauchamp; "you here!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Barkham was a dapper dark man, not unlike Lestrange, with an -expression which a schoolboy would have called "sneaky." He did not -recognize Mr. Beauchamp until that gentleman stripped off beard and -wig. Then he hastened to acknowledge him.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Beauchamp," he said, in a servile voice, "I hope, as I warned you -of Lestrange's plot, you will hold me blameless."</p> - -<p>"Why? What have you been doing?"</p> - -<p>"I will tell you," interposed Blair. "This gentleman, as you see, -bears a slight resemblance to Captain Jean Lestrange. He and the -Captain were hard up in Jamaica, and seeing your portrait, Mr. -Beauchamp, in the papers, they thought they might have a chance of -extorting money from you. In case Lestrange got into trouble here, he -wished to have an alibi, so he left for England under another name, -and Mr. Barkham here came to Southampton in the <i>Negress</i> as Captain -Lestrange."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes," said Barkham nervously; "but I warned Mr. Beauchamp that -Lestrange was coming."</p> - -<p>"Quite so; but you did not tell him that Lestrange was masquerading as -a dumb man in Heathton."</p> - -<p>"What!" cried Alan and Sophy in one breath. "Was Lestrange the Quiet -Gentleman?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Blair, with triumph. "He confessed as much to Barkham -here. That was why he wore the gray wig and beard and assumed -dumbness--oh, a most effective disguise; quite a different person he -made of himself! He came down to keep a watch on you, Mr. Beauchamp, -in order to plunder you when he thought fit. Your unexpected death -took him by surprise and upset his plans. Then Barkham, as Jean -Lestrange, arrived at Southampton, and our Quiet Gentleman disappeared -from his rooms here, to reappear from London in his own proper person, -as Captain Jean Lestrange. No wonder that, with so carefully-prepared -an alibi, we did not guess it was he who had been masquerading here."</p> - -<p>"Ha!" exclaimed Alan, "and he stole the key of the vault?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Barkham can explain that, and other things," said Blair -significantly.</p> - -<p>"Wait!" cried Sophy, rising excitedly, "I know--I know! It was -Lestrange who murdered Dr. Warrender!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," admitted Barkham, "he did."</p> - -<p>There was a deep silence, which was broken at length by Beauchamp.</p> - -<p>"The scoundrel!" he said hoarsely, "and I let him escape!"</p> - -<p>"What!" cried Blair, jumping up. "You let him escape, Mr. -Beauchamp--and when you knew that he killed Achille Lestrange?"</p> - -<p>"It was my wish," struck in Sophy; "I thought he might repent."</p> - -<p>"Such scoundrels never repent, Miss Marlow," said Blair; "he has -committed two murders, he may commit two more. But I'll hunt him down. -He can't have gone far yet."</p> - -<p>"No, I don't suppose he has," said Alan. "He was here last night. By -the way, how did he kill Dr. Warrender, and why?"</p> - -<p>"Barkham!"</p> - -<p>The little man obeyed the voice of the inspector, and meekly repeated -his story.</p> - -<p>"Lestrange," he said, "did not believe that Mr. Beauchamp was dead. He -heard Mr. Thorold say something to the Rector about the key of the -vault----"</p> - -<p>"God bless me!" cried Phelps, "so you did, Alan."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said the little man, nodding, "then he stole the key. He sent -for the doctor to ask him about the burial. The doctor came, but -Lestrange was out."</p> - -<p>"Did Warrender recognize him?" asked Beauchamp abruptly.</p> - -<p>"No, sir, he did not--at least, not then. Well, Lestrange waited and -waited to enter the vault. When he went at last he found Warrender and -another man taking the body out. He followed them to the hut on the -heath; he tried to look in, and he made a slight noise. Warrender came -out, and in the moonlight he recognized Lestrange, who turned to run -away, but the doctor caught him and they struggled. Then Lestrange, -knowing that he would be arrested for the murder of Achille in -Jamaica, stabbed the doctor to the heart. Terrified at what he had -done, he lost his head, and hurried up to me in London. At first he -refused to tell me anything, but I made him drink," said Barkham, with -a leer, "and so I got the whole truth out of him."</p> - -<p>"You scoundrel!" cried Thorold.</p> - -<p>"Call me what you like," was the sullen rejoinder. "I wanted to get -money out of Beauchamp myself, and wrote to warn him that I might have -a claim on his gratitude. I was afraid to come here. I sent a letter -to Lestrange asking him for money, and it got into this policeman's -hands. He traced me, and brought me down here. That is all I know; but -as Mr. Beauchamp is alive, I ought to have something. After all, it -was I who warned him."</p> - -<p>"You shall have fifty pounds," said Beauchamp sternly. "But you must -leave England."</p> - -<p>"I don't know that I will let him," said Blair. "He should have -communicated with the police."</p> - -<p>"I'll turn Queen's evidence if you like," said Barkham. "I don't care -if I am arrested or not. I have had nothing but this fifty pounds--and -you call that gratitude, Mr. Beauchamp!"</p> - -<p>"Let him go, Blair, if you can consistently with your duty," said -Beauchamp.</p> - -<p>"I'll see," was the reply. "Hullo! what's that! Gramp, what do you -mean by rushing into the room?"</p> - -<p>It was indeed Cicero who stood, hot and puffing, at the door. He took -no notice of Blair, but addressed himself to Alan.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Thorold," he said, "I have information if you will pay me well."</p> - -<p>"You shall be paid if what you have to say is worth it."</p> - -<p>"Then I must tell you that Lestrange was the Quiet Gentleman. You see -this lancet? He stole it out of your desk, and gave it to me to say -that I found it in the hut. This proves that he was the Quiet -Gentleman, and I believe he murdered Dr. Warrender."</p> - -<p>"You do, you scoundrel!" cried Mr. Beauchamp. "But you are too -late--we know all!"</p> - -<p>"Too late!" cried Gramp. "Good heavens! to think of my getting -nothing, and Clara Maria two thousand pounds!"</p> -<br> -<p class="center" style="letter-spacing:1em">* * * * *</p> -<br> - -<p>Little remains to be told. Lestrange was traced to Southampton, but -there the trail was lost, much to the disappointment of Inspector -Blair, who, although he duly received the two thousand pounds, never -ceased to regret the man's escape. Alan paid him the reward gladly, -for without him the mystery would never have been solved, and Mr. -Beauchamp's innocence would never have been established.</p> - -<p>Sophy and Alan were married in the presence of the ex-millionaire and -of Miss Vicky. After the ceremony, the former left England with Joe. -He bought a small yacht, in which he and his faithful servant sail the -waters of the Mediterranean. No one has ever guessed the truth.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Marry continues to lament the loss of the Quiet Gentleman, but -she has always believed him to have been one and the same person. That -Mr. Beauchamp was the second representative of the part, she never -dreamed. Mr. Marlow is dead to the Heathton villagers, and to this day -they talk of the mystery which surrounded the disappearance of his -corpse--indeed, the vault has the reputation of being haunted.</p> - -<p>Barkham left England with his fifty pounds, and Mrs. Warrender -returned to America with her two thousand and her many jewels. There -she married a Canadian doctor, and vanished altogether. Cicero -received a small sum, and now spends his time frantically hunting for -Clara Maria, in the hope of extorting a share of her money; but Clara -Maria is a clever woman, and he is not likely to come across her.</p> - -<p>Sophy and Alan are supremely happy in their life at the Abbey Farm. -They make frequent trips to the Continent, where they meet Mr. -Beauchamp.</p> - -<p>Miss Vicky, too, is happy. She has Sophy's son and heir to care for, -and what more can she want?</p> - -<p>"The heir to millions," says the old lady, "and what a mystery there -was about it all! To this day, I don't understand everything."</p> - -<p>"Few people do," is Alan's reply. "The millionaire's mystery will -always remain a mystery in Heathton."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<hr class="w90"> -<h5>BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD.</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Millionaire Mystery, by Fergus Hume - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MILLIONAIRE MYSTERY *** - -***** This file should be named 55961-h.htm or 55961-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/9/6/55961/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by Google Books -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. 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