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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56841 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+     1. Page scan source:
+     https://books.google.com/books?id=ERQNAAAAYAAJ
+     (Harvard University)
+
+     2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
+
+     3. The few instances of illegible words, indicated by[*], do
+        not influence the flow of the story. These lacunae appear
+        as a portion of pages 218 and 219 (8 words each).
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Disappearing Eye
+
+BY
+FERGUS HUME
+
+AUTHOR OF
+"THE SOLITARY FARM," "THE MYSTERY OF A HANSOM CAB,"
+"THE SACRED HERB," "THE SEALED MESSAGE," "THE GREEN MUMMY,"
+"THE OPAL SERPENT," "THE RED WINDOW," "THE YELLOW HOLLY," ETC.
+
+
+
+
+G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY
+PUBLISHERS      NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Copyright 1908 by
+G. W. Dillingham Company
+
+
+_The Disappearing Eye_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+CHAP.
+I.       A WEIRD DISCOVERY.
+II.      THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY.
+III.     AFTER EVENTS.
+IV.      FACTS.
+V.       AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
+VI.      MY RIVAL.
+VII.     A FRIEND IN NEED.
+VIII.    THE BEAUTY OF THE WORLD.
+IX.      GERTRUDE'S FATHER.
+X.       A SURPRISE.
+XI.      MISS DESTINY SPEAKS.
+XXII.    GERTRUDE'S DEFENCE.
+XIII.    LOVE.
+XIV.     THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS.
+XV.      AN EXPLANATION.
+XVI.     STRIVER'S THREAT.
+XVII.    LADY MABEL'S VISIT.
+XVIII.   AN ALARMING MESSAGE.
+XIX.     A DANGEROUS POSITION.
+XX.      THE CIPHER.
+XXI.     THE AIRSHIP.
+XXII.    THE WHOLE TRUTH.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE DISAPPEARING EYE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+A WEIRD DISCOVERY
+
+
+"Adventures are to the adventurous," said Cannington, with the air of
+a man who believes that he is saying something undeniably smart.
+
+"Good Lord!" I retorted, twisting the motor car round a corner. "Since
+when has the British subaltern given up his leisure to reading
+Beaconsfield's novels?"
+
+Cannington serenely puffed his cigarette into a brighter glow. "I
+don't know what you're talking about, old chap," said he
+indifferently.
+
+"I talk of 'Ixion in Heaven,' or--if you prefer it--of 'Coningsby.'
+Beaconsfield was so enamoured of his apothegm that he inserted it in
+both tales."
+
+"I don't know what you're talking about," said Cannington again, and
+his puzzled look proved that he spoke the truth. "A chap called Marr
+wrote that in my sister's album, and told her it was his own."
+
+"I daresay; more ideas are stolen than pocket-handkerchiefs, according
+to Balzac. And, after all, Beaconsfield may have cribbed the saying."
+
+"Oh! I see what you are driving at: Marr copied it out of a book."
+
+"Undoubtedly, unless he lived before 'Coningsby' and 'Ixion' were
+written--somewhere about the beginning of the nineteenth century."
+
+"Oh! Marr isn't so old as that," protested the boy, chuckling;
+"although he isn't a spring chicken, by any means. What Mabel sees in
+him, I can't for the life of me imagine."
+
+"Humph! You were never renowned for imagination, Cannington," I said
+kindly, "and in your particular case it doesn't much matter. You're
+the man behind the gun, and all you have to do is to fire against the
+seen enemy."
+
+"Huh! Why, half the firing is against the unseen enemy. If I haven't
+got your rotten imagination, Vance, I've got common-sense, and that's
+what you jolly well need."
+
+"Rash youth, to speak thus to the man at the wheel. Don't you know
+that, with a little dexterity, I could shoot you into yonder ditch?"
+
+"You'd travel with me," he sniggered.
+
+"Why not? It would be an excellent advertisement for a popular
+playwright."
+
+"Playwright be hanged! You only write beastly melodramas."
+
+"Precisely; that is why I am popular. And if I'm not a playwright,
+what am I?"
+
+"A carpenter. You collar other people's ideas----"
+
+"Like your friend Marr," I interpolated.
+
+"And knock them into weird shapes for second-rate theatres."
+
+"Not at all," I rejoined tartly, for the criticism piqued me. "I scour
+the country in search of flesh and blood tragedies, and improve them
+into moral lessons for the British Public. But you're talking all
+round the shop, my lad. Who is this Marr, of whom your sister
+approves, and why does he write down other people's ideas in her
+album?"
+
+"Wentworth Marr." Cannington lighted another cigarette, and explained:
+"He's a well-preserved old buck of--I should say--fifty, and looks
+forty. Unmarried, with heaps of tin and no family. Mabel likes him."
+
+"And he likes Lady Mabel, or loves her. Which is it?"
+
+"Well"--Cannington drawled this out reluctantly--"he's in love with
+her, sure enough. And, of course, Mabel is as poor as I am, and Marr
+having no end of shekels, you see----"
+
+"What about Dick Weston?" I broke in abruptly.
+
+"Oh, he's too much taken up with his inventions to bother about love.
+Poor Mab feels it," sighed Cannington, "so she flirts with Marr."
+
+"To keep her hand in, I suppose. She'll burn her fingers. Tell me all
+about it, boy, if it will relieve your mind."
+
+"I have told you all. Mabel wants to marry Dick Weston, and I think he
+wants to marry her, only he's too much taken up with his airship to
+trouble about proposing. Wentworth Marr is wealthy and a gentleman and
+all that, and wants to make Mabel his wife. She likes him, but she
+doesn't love him. Still there's the money, you see, Vance."
+
+"Weston is also rich," I suggested.
+
+"Well, I know that," snapped Cannington testily, "but he's an
+absent-minded beggar, who lives in the clouds along with his bally
+airship, and won't come up to the scratch. I say," he broke off,
+"don't secure a paragraph for your confounded transpontine plays by
+running over that child."
+
+"Little beast!" The child in question was playing "Who's across
+first," and I had considerable difficulty in dodging him. However, I
+just managed to avoid a Coroner's Inquest and swung the machine along
+the straight Roman road, while the escaped infant shouted insultingly
+behind.
+
+Cannington giggled, but I was too much taken up with steering the
+Rippler through a somewhat crowded village street to tell him that he
+was several kinds of ass. I had known the boy since he was a forward
+brat at Eton, and we were intimate friends, as can be judged from the
+way in which he confided in me. At the present moment I was conveying
+him from Gattlingsands to Murchester, as he had been stopping at the
+former place for some days and now sought his own Mess. Previously I
+had motored from London to remain the night at Tarhaven, which is four
+miles from Gattlingsands, and thus was enabled to save Cannington a
+train fare. Considering that he and Lady Mabel Watton had about
+sixpence between them, he was duly grateful, although pointedly saucy.
+I was always sorry for Cannington's poverty, as he was a thoroughly
+healthy-minded sporting boy, who keenly enjoyed such good things of
+this life as he could lay hands on. A pauper commoner is an object to
+be met with everywhere; but a pauper lord is a more unusual spectacle.
+Certainly the boy was not yet knocking at the workhouse door, but, for
+his position, he was assuredly desperately hard-up. And thinking of
+these things, I made a remark when clear of the village.
+
+"You must marry a dollar heiress, Cannington."
+
+"O Lord! what rot. Who'd marry a pauper with a tumbledown family
+mansion, next to nothing a year, and several hundred waste acres?"
+
+"You have forgotten one asset," I said dryly; "your title."
+
+"Huh! Who cares for that in these democratic days?"
+
+"Heaps of rich spinsters, American, Colonial, and otherwise.
+Besides, you're not altogether as ugly as sin, though you might be
+better-looking."
+
+"Thanks, awfully. But would you mind being less personal?"
+
+I kicked his ankles. "If I am to advise you I must quote your looks,
+your title, your qualities, and all the rest of it. You've got
+precious little money, and as a gunner subaltern it will be ages
+before you get promotion. Why not use what advantages you have and
+exchange them for an income? A rich wife--"
+
+"Not much," interrupted the boy, with a flush. "I fancy I see myself
+living on a woman. Besides, I'm having a jolly time now, and see no
+reason to tie myself up. When I do, it will be a girl I can love, no
+end."
+
+"Didn't know you had got that far."
+
+"Well, I haven't. But one never knows."
+
+"I agree. At four and twenty one never knows."
+
+"Oh, stop your rotting, Vance," said he crossly. "I haven't been
+through the Shop and out in the cold world for nothing. One would
+think I was an idiot, which I certainly am not. Don't you bother your
+silly head about me. It's Mab I'm thinking about. She wants money, as
+I do; but I should hate to see her marry a fellow old enough to be her
+grandfather, just because he's rich. I wish you'd see her and drop a
+hint," he ended hesitatingly.
+
+"My dear Cannington, I know you better than I do your sister. She
+might resent my hints. If you really don't want her to marry this man
+Marr--I never heard of him, for my part--shake Dick Weston into a
+proposal and he can take his wife in his new airship for the
+honeymoon."
+
+"It would end in a funeral," grinned Cannington cheerfully. "Dicky's
+always having smashes. I don't want him to experiment with Mabel, you
+know, old chap. Hi! Here's Murchester, and yonder's a policeman. Slow
+down, Vance, you can't romp up the High Street at thirty miles an
+hour."
+
+"I don't see why not," I retorted, obeying orders, for the policeman
+really looked a suspicious character. "There! We're crawling along
+like a condemned snail, if that's what you want."
+
+"I want my tea," said Cannington irrelevantly, "don't you?"
+
+"No! I'll drop you at the Barracks and travel on to Clankton. There I
+put up for the night, and go up Norfolk way to-morrow."
+
+"What's your objective?"
+
+"I haven't got one. That is, I am simply looking round to see if I can
+poach on real life for a melodramatic plot. 'Adventures to the
+adventurous.'"
+
+Cannington nodded. "I thought old Marr wasn't clever enough to have
+made that up out of his own blessed head. But, I say, how do you
+expect to find your plot in a motor car?"
+
+"The latter-day vehicle of romance, my boy. Formerly your knight rode
+a horse, and went into the Unknown in search of the unexpected. Now
+he--that's me, you know--takes out his machine and looks for the
+expected in the Known. You understand?"
+
+"No, confound you. What do you hope to run across?"
+
+"An adventure."
+
+"What sort of one?"
+
+"How the Charles Dickens can I tell?"
+
+"Yet you said that the Known--"
+
+"Cannington, you wish me to spoil my epigrams by explanation. I
+decline to satisfy your morbid curiosity. All I know is, that the
+fountains of my imagination are dried up, and that I can't write a
+play which ought to be written if I am to earn enough to keep this car
+in petrol. I am, therefore--like Balzac--chasing my genius, and who
+knows upon what glorious adventure I may stumble."
+
+Cannington laughed scornfully. "All the adventure you'll drop
+across will be in running over some old woman, or in exceeding the
+speed-limit."
+
+"I care not," was my reckless reply. "I am prepared for anything."
+
+"Don't be an ass," urged the boy politely, as we spun through the
+Barrack gates. "Stop here for the night, and I'll put you up. Then we
+can go to London to-morrow and have a ripping time. . . . What?"
+
+"It's good of you, Cannington, and if I hadn't an income to earn I
+should accept with pleasure. As things are"--I stopped the car before
+the Mess door--"you can get down and send out a man to carry in your
+portmanteau."
+
+"Have a cup of tea, anyhow," said Cannington, slipping to the ground.
+
+I looked at my watch. "No, thanks. It's nearing six, and I have some
+distance to go. Don't delay me, boy."
+
+"Oh, very well, confound you. Wait till I get my baggage and then you
+can buzz off. When am I to see you again?"
+
+"The Fates will arrange that. I'll turn up sooner or later."
+
+"If you aren't smashed up, or locked up, meanwhile," said the boy,
+swinging his portmanteau off the back of the car. "I'll keep an eye on
+the police news for the next few days. I daresay I'll have to bail you
+out. Well," he gave my hand a grip, "thanks awfully, old son, for
+bringing me over."
+
+"Only too pleased," I muttered, beginning to move away. "Good-bye."
+
+I had been to Murchester before, and knew the locality moderately
+well. Therefore, after leaving Cannington I spun through the Barrack
+grounds and emerged on to a somewhat suburban road, which led towards
+the outskirts of the town. A dampish August twilight filled the air
+with rapidly darkening shadows, and a marked chill in the warmth
+hinted at the coming night. The sun had already withdrawn behind a
+bank of western clouds, before vanishing over the verge of the world.
+I drove the machine at half speed, as there were many country carts
+about, and ran down a lengthy sloping hill towards a distant glimpse
+of green. Clankton, which is a fishing village rapidly rising into
+notoriety as a seaside resort, was over thirty miles away, so if I
+wished to be seated at my dinner by seven o'clock, it behooved me to
+use all the power of which the Rippler was capable. Hunger forced me
+to increase the pace.
+
+Motoring was the one form of amusement which I truly enjoyed, and
+which a somewhat limited income earned by hard brain-work enabled me
+to indulge in. But the indulgence precluded my partaking in many other
+pleasures of this luxurious age, for the Rippler had cost much to buy
+and cost a considerable sum monthly to keep going. But motoring is
+less expensive than horse-racing and doctors' bills; and the fresh
+air, after enforced sedentary deskwork, swept away possible illness.
+As a moderately popular playwright I made a tolerably good income,
+although less than I was credited with earning. Still by devoting
+myself to two machines, a motor and a type-writer, one for play and
+the other for work, I managed to keep out of debt and keep my Rippler
+at the same time. But because the machine was a smart one, and because
+I was constantly on the move between whiles of manufacturing
+melodramas, people declared that I was a literary millionaire. As
+though any writer ever became a Cr[oe]sus.
+
+I must say that I had greater ambitions than to write cheap
+sensational plays, and that I did write them at all was due--as it
+would seem--to mere chance. After I left Oxford my parents died,
+and--owing to their extravagances--everything was sold. I came to
+London with an income of fifty pounds a year. I could not exactly
+starve on one pound a week, but I had a sufficiently bad time, and
+tried to supplement my income by writing for the papers. An old actor,
+boarding at a house wherein I had taken up my abode, suggested that I
+should attempt a melodrama. I did so with his assistance, and between
+us we managed to get it staged at a small theatre in the East End. To
+my surprise, the play was a great success, being sufficiently lurid to
+capture the tastes of the somewhat rough audience. Since that time I
+had been committed to this particular form of entertainment, and try
+as I might I could not escape from the memory of my first hit.
+
+But I did not surrender my earlier ambitions, as I have before stated.
+I worked hard at the cheap sensational plays, which were produced at
+second-class theatres, and saved all the money I could, in the hope of
+gathering together sufficient principal to give me an assured income
+of five hundred a year. When independent, I determined to devote
+myself to writing really good plays--high-class comedies and poetic
+dramas for choice--but meanwhile served my apprenticeship to the
+writing craft under the eye of the public. On the whole, I had very
+little to complain about, and my portion of the viands at Life's
+Banquet was moderately tempting, if not superlatively delicate.
+
+I do not think there is anything more to explain about myself, save
+that I was not handsome, that I had never been in love, and that I
+occupied a tiny flat in West Kensington, where the rents are moderate.
+As a rule I wrote furiously every day until a play was completed, then
+attended to the rehearsing and saw the production. Afterwards I took
+to my motor, and scoured the country, partly to get fresh air, and
+partly because I had a chance of stumbling across incidents in real
+life which afforded me material for plots, situations, scenes, and
+characters.
+
+At the present moment I was in search of the new and the real,
+intending to weave actual facts into the sort of melodrama for
+which Cyrus Vance was famous, or shall we say notorious, as the
+penny-dreadful success I had won could scarcely be dignified by an
+adjective applicable only to the career of Napoleon or Cæsar. But I
+little thought when leaving Murchester, that I was also leaving the
+long lane of petty success down which I had plodded so soberly, and
+that the new road opening out before me was one which led to--but I
+really cannot say just now what it led to. And in this last sentence
+you will see the cunning of the story-teller, who desires to keep the
+solution of his mystery until the last chapter. But I am a playwright
+and not a novelist--two very different beings. Destiny is writing this
+tale, and I am simply the amanuensis. Therefore you will see how
+infinitely more ingenious is the goddess than the mere mortal, in
+constructing an intricate scheme of life and in dealing with the
+puppets entangled therein.
+
+So in this life-story, which starts in the middle, as it were, and
+travels both ways to beginning and end, blame Destiny for whatever
+does not please. I merely recount what happened--simply describe the
+various scenic backgrounds and rough out the characters. But Destiny
+weaves the happenings, brings about the unexpected, and solves the
+mystery, which is of her ingenious contrivance. And throughout I am
+only the clay which she, the potter, moulds at her will.
+
+In a motor car it is much easier to go wrong on the outskirts of a
+town than amidst any other surroundings that I know of. When in the
+open, one can rise in the car and see one's way; but bewildered by
+streets and houses and traffic and wary policemen, and misled by those
+who do not know their own locality over-well, one finds a town
+somewhat perplexing. Making for the west, you get twisted round and
+emerge into open country towards the east. A single wrong road in the
+suburbs will lead the complete motorist astray, and will introduce him
+to a new country of whose geography he is entirely ignorant. Therefore
+some miles beyond perplexing Murchester I became aware, by questioning
+an intelligent rustic, that I was going away from Clankton. After some
+swearing and a close examination of the map, I lighted the lamps and
+turned on my tracks. Having gone so far out of my way, I had
+unnecessarily used up a lot of power, and then the inevitable
+happened--I discovered, to my dismay, that I was short of petrol in
+the tank. I had no further supply, worse luck! and unless I could
+obtain some, I began to see that I should have to camp in the fields,
+or at all events in the nearest village. But, thanks to motoring,
+petrol is fairly plentiful in unexpected places. If I could discover
+some village, I made sure of chancing upon a shop wherein to purchase
+petrol, and therefore was hopeful.
+
+But as I drove the machine slowly on--for the motive power was
+dwindling rapidly--I found that the necessary village was conspicuous
+by its absence. I crawled up narrow lanes, the twists and turns of
+which necessitated careful steering; I dropped down the inclines of
+wide roads; I skirted stagnant ponds, weedy under dank boughs; and
+worked my slow way past mouldering brick walls, which shut in lordly
+parks. It grew darker every minute and was long after six o'clock, so
+I soon became unpleasantly aware that I needed food as much as the
+Rippler needed petrol. I seemed to be in for some kind of adventure,
+and as I had come out to look for one in the interests of the British
+Public, I had no reason to be dissatisfied. But I sincerely trusted
+that it would be a romantic one, out of which I could weave a
+sufficiently good plot to recompense me for the damnable circumstances
+in which I found myself.
+
+The Rippler feeling hungry, as I did, groaned complainingly up a
+gentle ascent, topped the rise, and stopped dead after proceeding a
+few yards. And now mark the cunning of Destiny. If she had not brought
+me to my goal, she had at least led me to a place where I could obtain
+motive power, for in front of me I beheld a tiny old-fashioned house
+of weather-board walls shaded by a mellow red-tiled roof. It stood
+directly on the road, and was backed by a circle of high trees--elms,
+I fancy they were; a quaint, odd, dreary-looking cottage, which had
+been awkwardly converted into a shop. Taking one of the lamps I
+flashed the light on to a narrow door, which stood open, on to a small
+window to the left of the door, and on to a right-handed wider one,
+behind the glass of which were displayed the various goods which one
+usually finds in these village stores. But the sight amazed me,
+especially when I saw the name of Anne Caldershaw inscribed on a broad
+board over the window, for I could espy no village. Why did Anne
+Caldershaw set up her stall here, where there was no one to buy; and
+why was her shop not lighted up, seeing that the door was open for any
+chance customer? I could not answer these questions, and became aware
+that here was the start of a promising adventure. I felt like Alice in
+Wonderland, for such a shop in such a lonely woody locality was just
+such a thing as Alice would have chanced upon.
+
+However I had no time to bother over the romance of things, for I
+wanted petrol, and luckily saw a red board on which it was announced
+in black lettering that petrol was for sale. Stepping into the dark
+shop with my brilliant lamp, I rapped on the mean little counter. No
+one came. Although I called out as loudly as I could, there was still
+an eerie silence, so I walked towards a small door set in the inside
+wall and knocked. As there was still no answer I tried to open the
+door, and found that it was locked. A flight of steps, narrow and
+rude, ran up the side of the wall to some upstairs rooms, and I sang
+up the stairs. As this final shout produced no better result than the
+others, I made up my mind to waste no further time, but to fill my
+tank with petrol and leave the money on the counter. But even as I
+searched for the liquid, I kept marvelling at the strange silence of
+Anne Caldershaw's shop. There was not only no one to buy, but there
+was not even anyone to sell. The circumstances were odd in the
+extreme, and I scented the unexpected in the damp air.
+
+My part of the adventure--as it seemed--was to fill my tank and get
+the Rippler ready to start. Whether Destiny, who was arranging
+details, would permit her to get under way, or me to reach Clankton in
+time for dinner, was quite another matter. However I was actor and not
+author, so I fulfilled my part--my appointed part, I presumed--by
+searching for the petrol. I soon discovered the orthodox red case, and
+having unscrewed it with some difficulty, I walked back to the car,
+which stood, some little distance away, directly in front of Anne
+Caldershaw's shop. It took me some minutes to fill up, but during that
+time I did not hear a single sound. And yet, as I conjectured, while
+replacing the cap of the tank, there must be some house or houses
+about, since the shop argued customers. Perhaps when I turned the
+corner--for the shop stood just on the angle of the road--I would find
+a collection of cottages, not likely to be so deserted as Anne
+Caldershaw's emporium.
+
+Shortly the tank was filled, and after seeing that all was ready to
+start, I took the empty can back to the dark house and placed the
+necessary money on the counter. I would have shouted again, but that
+it seemed useless, as apparently no one was about, for my former cries
+would have awakened the dead. For one or two minutes I stood in the
+darkness listening for some sound in the house, and stared through the
+open door at the streams of light from the acetylene lamps of the
+Rippler. There was something very weird about the situation.
+
+Suddenly I heard a soft faint moan, which seemed to come from behind
+the locked door at the back of the shop. On the impulse of the moment
+and with rather a grue--as the Scotch call it, for the sound was
+sinister and unexpected--I sprang forward and gripped the handle of
+the door. To my surprise, the moment I twisted it the door opened at
+once, and yet I swear that it was locked when I had last tried it. I
+looked into a dark room, and could see faintly to the right a barred
+window, which showed against the fast darkening evening sky. No
+further moan could I hear, although I listened with all my ears.
+Wondering if I had been mistaken, and yet uneasy about the now
+unlocked door, I stepped into the back room, holding on to the inside
+handle. As it afterwards turned out the floor of the room was lower
+than that of the shop, and reached by three shallow steps. I therefore
+stumbled, and pulling the door after me with some violence, so that it
+clicked to, I fell sprawling, and bruised my elbow somewhat painfully.
+
+Still I heard no sound, but seated on the floor to collect my
+senses--somewhat dazed by the unexpected fall--I put out my hand to
+explore the darkness. It fell on soft flesh, warm to the touch, and on
+rough tangled hair. Thoroughly startled, and with every excuse, I
+withdrew my hand, and fumbled in my pockets for a match, regretting
+that I had not brought one of the lamps. I had half a mind to go out
+and fetch it, but my curiosity was so great and--to be plain--my nerves
+were so unstrung, that I struck the lucifer, anxious to know the best
+or the worst at once.
+
+As the pale tiny light grew stronger, I beheld the form of a woman
+lying on the stone floor, face uppermost. And that face--I shuddered
+as I looked, for it was distorted into an expression of pain, with a
+twisted mouth and glassy, expressionless eyes. Framed in loose masses
+of iron-grey hair, it glimmered milky white, and bore the stamp of
+death on every feature. The woman was dead, and judging from the moan
+I had heard and the still warm flesh, she had just died. While I
+stared the match-light went out, and I fancied that I heard a faint
+click. I lighted another match hastily looking towards the door
+leading to the shop. It was still closed, and I turned again to gaze
+at the dead woman, who was old, ill-favoured, and eminently plebeian.
+
+At that moment I heard the buzz of the Rippler. At once, in
+astonishment and alarm, I sprang towards the door. It was locked, and
+I was a prisoner. While I was still trying to grasp this astounding
+fact, the drone of my motor car died away in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+THE BEGINNING OF A MYSTERY
+
+
+Here indeed was an adventure, less romantic than tragical. I was
+locked up in the back room of a village shop in company with the
+corpse of a dead woman, and some thief had gone off with my motor car.
+Undoubtedly the person who had stolen the Rippler, was the one who had
+locked the door. Indeed it would seem that the person had laid a trap,
+for in the first instance the door had been locked; in the second, it
+had been open; and in the third, it had been locked again. But the
+individual who had gone off with the car--as presumably was the
+case--had not lured me into the trap, since the moan of the now dead
+woman had led me on to exploring the back premises. But the unknown
+might have counted upon that. If such was the case, why, then--here in
+the darkness fumbling for the handle of the locked door a terrible
+thought flashed into my mind, a vague elusive thought, which I could
+not put into words. With a sudden terror knocking at my heart, I shook
+the door and cried for help.
+
+"Hi! what's that?" asked a rough, uncultured voice in the shop;
+"what's wrong wi' ye, Mrs. Caldershaw?"
+
+"Open the door!" I shook the flimsy boards again. "Open the door!"
+
+There was a grunt of astonishment, and I heard the key turn in the
+lock. A moment later and the door opened, when at once I flung out
+past a burly man, who was blocking the way. He gripped me before I
+could pass him, and I heard hard breathing in the darkness. "Not so
+fast," said the man harshly. "What are you doing here in Mrs.
+Caldershaw's shop? and----"
+
+"Don't stop me; don't, confound you!" I interrupted, and wrenching
+myself away I ran to the door of the shop, crying out explanations.
+"Someone's gone off with my motor car. There's a dead woman in there,
+and----"
+
+This time it was the man who interrupted and with something more than
+words. As I dashed into the deserted road, looking up and down in the
+darkness for my Rippler, my liberator plunged after me and gripped me
+again. Before I could say a word or make a movement, he had borne me
+to the ground by sheer strength of muscle, and holding me down hard
+and fast, bellowed at the pitch of his voice an ominous word. "Murder!
+murder! murder!" shouted the man with surprising volume of tone.
+
+Again the fear knocked at my heart, for now the elusive thought had
+been put into concrete form by this yokel, as I took him to be from
+his roughness and accent. Anne Caldershaw--I believed the body to be
+hers--had been murdered by the assassin, who had escaped with my motor
+car. He--I naturally thought of the assassin as a "he"--had waited
+until I was bending over the corpse of his victim, and then locking me
+in, had made use of the Rippler. By this time he would be beyond any
+chance of recapture, and here was I placed unexpectedly in a
+compromising situation, with the chance--and upon very good
+circumstantial evidence--of being accused of the crime. And yet, as
+even then I thought confusedly, there was nothing to show that the
+woman had really been murdered, as I had seen neither wound nor blood.
+
+"Let me up!" I gasped, striving to throw off the dead weight of the
+big man.
+
+But he only continued to roar for help, gripping my arms and pressing
+his knee into my chest. Had not the villagers arrived, I verily
+believe that there would have been a second, if unconscious murder, so
+brutally did the fellow bear on my prone body. But I heard distant
+cries, and shortly there came the flash of lanterns borne by men and
+women running round the corner of the road. As by magic, I was
+surrounded by an alarmed crowd all asking questions at once and
+turning their many lights on to my face. My captor gave a breathless
+explanation.
+
+"Murder! murder!" he shouted, still dwelling on a top note. "I found
+the devil locked in the back room without a light, and the shop," he
+pointed across the way, "is without a light also. He comes out yelling
+that there was a dead woman left behind. It's Mrs. Caldershaw for
+sure, and he's done for her. Murder! murder! Where's the police?"
+
+Almost before he finished his explanation, which was not quite a full
+one, since he gave no account of my motor car being stolen, the men
+and women were running into the shop. My captor jerked me roughly to
+my feet, on which I could scarcely stand, so roughly had he handled
+me, and so sore were my bones. "Come along," he shouted, much excited,
+and dragged me across the road and into the shop. "Look on her as
+you've done for."
+
+"Don't be a fool," I protested; "I'm a gentleman."
+
+"But a murderer none the less," he retorted, and pushed me furiously
+down the three steps into the back room, which was now filled with men
+and women.
+
+Some of the latter were on their knees examining the body, which
+I now saw to be that of an elderly person, plainly clothed in a
+maroon-coloured wincey dress, with a belt round her waist, whence
+dangled a bunch of keys and a cheap lace collar fastened with a gaudy
+cairngorm brooch. What with the disconcerting way in which my captor
+handled me--it seemed vain to resist--and the restless light of the
+lanterns, I could not see much more. One of the men looked up.
+
+"Why did you cry out murder, Giles?" he asked the rough-looking man
+who held me. "There isn't a wound on her body. It's a fit, I believe."
+
+The man Giles loosened me. "If I've been mistaken," he began, when a
+cry from a little woman cut his speech short.
+
+"Her eye's out; her eye's out--the left one. Look! look!" and she
+seized a bystander's arm in terror.
+
+Sure enough the left eye was missing, and I wondered why I had not
+noticed that such was the case when I examined the body by the light
+of the lucifer-match. I remembered distinctly the glassy,
+expressionless eyes, and yet, now there was only one, as I now saw
+plainly enough. Doubtless in the flickering light of the match and in
+my agitation, I had omitted to see that there was but one eye. Even at
+so critical a moment I began to wonder how I could have overlooked so
+obvious a fact, and then recalled the story a friend had told me of a
+man he had met with in the States, and to whom he spoke for five
+minutes, thinking there was something odd about his appearance, before
+he saw that both ears were missing. So easily, as I considered, even
+when placid can we fail to notice what is plainly apparent, much
+less when unnerved as I was when examining that dead face in the
+match-light. It was an odd thought at the time, considering that I
+stood in such peril. Had this cottage been in America I daresay I
+should have been lynched by the rough crowd of villagers around me.
+
+"It's not murder maybe," growled Giles, seizing me again. "But this
+devil has torn her eye out, so----"
+
+"There's no blood," said another man wisely. "If the eye had been torn
+out----"
+
+"It was a glass eye," breathed a stout, dark woman with a heavy face.
+"Anne told me as much when we had tea together. She didn't like it to
+be known, poor soul, being proud like, and took great pains to get the
+best eye she could. But it's gone, sure enough." She peered into the
+dead face and then at me. "Perhaps this gentleman will tell us why he
+took it."
+
+By this time, since apparently Anne Caldershaw had not been murdered
+and the eye was merely glass, the current of popular feeling was
+running more in my favour. I might be a thief, with the eye in my
+pocket, but I was not a murderer, so the villagers gave me time for
+explanation.
+
+"I quite understand that things look black against me," I said
+hastily, "but I know nothing about the matter. I arrived in front of
+this shop in my motor car and stopped to get petrol. After I filled up
+and left the money--you will find it on the counter, if you look--I
+heard a moan and stepped into this room to see what was wrong. While
+looking at the body, after lighting a match, someone locked me in and
+ran off with my motor car."
+
+The villagers looked at one another, and apparently thought that my
+explanation was a lame one. But Giles, who had treated me so roughly,
+grudgingly admitted that he had seen the motor car.
+
+"I came round the corner to get a pound of bacon for supper," said
+Giles reflectively, "and I saw the engine"--so he phrased it--"before
+the door. A lady was stepping in----"
+
+"A lady!" I interrupted. "Are you certain?"
+
+"Yes--sir," he said, giving me the polite address doubtfully. "I saw
+her plain enough in the light of them bright lamps. She had a long
+white sort of gown on, and a cap with a veil flying behind on her
+head. I just caught a glimpse of her, when she went off as hard as she
+could."
+
+"In what direction?"
+
+"Murchester way, if you want a good big town to go by," said Giles.
+
+"Then send for the police and tell them to telegraph to Murchester to
+stop the car. It's a Rippler, No. 14539 Z, and belongs to me. The
+woman has stolen it, I tell you. Where are the police?"
+
+"There's no policeman until we get one from Arkleigh, and the
+telegraph office is there also. Now you, sir, must wait until the
+police come."
+
+"Of course," I assented readily. "I quite understand that you look
+upon me as a doubtful character. Lock up this house until the police
+arrive and take me to your inn if you have one. I want something to
+eat and drink."
+
+"But the eye," said the heavy dark woman; "give back the eye."
+
+"I haven't got the eye," I snapped, for with hunger and thirst and
+excitement, and the unpleasantness of being unjustly suspected, I was
+not in the best of tempers. "You can search me if you like."
+
+The dark woman would have done so readily, being evidently of a
+meddlesome nature. But Giles interposed. "Let the gentleman alone,
+Mrs. Faith," he said gruffly; "I caught him, and I'll keep him till
+Warshaw comes. I daresay it's a mistake on my part, and I'm sorry
+if----"
+
+"Oh, I don't blame you, Mr. Giles," I interposed easily, and lighted a
+cigarette to show my nonchalance. "I should have acted in the same way
+myself. So come along and take me to gaol."
+
+A relieved smile made the man's rugged face quite pleasant to look at,
+as my exculpation of himself, and my ready offer to be searched,
+evidently reassured him greatly. In his eyes, at all events, I was not
+the desperate criminal he had taken me to be. But his fellow-villagers
+still looked dubious. "Mrs. Caldershaw had heaps of money hidden
+away," ventured one little rat of a man with a squeaky voice.
+
+"Search my pockets then," I said again with open impatience. "All I
+have told you is correct. My name is Cyrus Vance, and if you send to
+the Artillery Barracks at Murchester, my friend Lord Cannington will
+have no difficulty in identifying me."
+
+As I thought it would, the title acted like a charm, and the tension
+somewhat slackened. Giles, who appeared to be the most sensible of the
+lot, beckoned me into the dark shop, leaving his friends to guard the
+house and look after the corpse of the unfortunate woman. I walked
+beside him round the corner, and sure enough--as I expected--came upon
+the twinkling lights of quite a dozen houses. The late Mrs. Caldershaw
+had customers after all, it would seem.
+
+"What's the name of this place?" I asked abruptly.
+
+"Mootley," replied Giles, now less suspicious and more human. "It
+ain't a very large village, but we've more cottages than these here
+scattered along the road up yonder," and he jerked his thumb to the
+left where a lane ran from the high-road towards a woodland.
+
+"It's too dark to see anything," I said idly, "but to-morrow you can
+show me round. I daresay I shall have to pass the night at your house,
+Mr. Giles, unless you think that I may rise in the night to kill you.
+By the way," I added with a bantering air, "you don't hold my arm.
+Aren't you afraid I'll bolt?"
+
+"No, sir," said the man, now perfectly polite. "I see that I have made
+a mistake. I know your name, if you're the Mr. Vance who writes
+plays."
+
+"I am; but that is odd knowledge for a villager in these
+out-of-the-way parts to possess."
+
+"Oh, I haven't lived at Mootley all my life, sir, although I was born
+here forty years ago. I went to London, and stopped in Southwark for
+years. I'd a greengrocer's shop there, and did fairly well. But London
+didn't suit my wife's health, sir, so I sold up some time back, and
+bought a cottage and an acre of land here with my savings. I know your
+name, sir, because I've seen one or two plays of yours at The Elephant
+and Castle Theatre. And very good plays they were, sir, too."
+
+"Humph! It seems to me, Mr. Giles, that I am now the wrongly suspected
+hero of a much more mysterious and lurid melodrama than any I have
+written."
+
+"It _is_ strange," admitted Giles, with a side glance. I saw the
+glance by the light which gleamed from a cottage window.
+
+"My murdering Mrs. Caldershaw?" I inquired coolly.
+
+"We don't know yet that she has been murdered," he replied quickly.
+
+"Then my stealing that glass eye of hers?"
+
+"No, sir. But your being locked up in the dark with the corpse."
+
+"She wasn't a corpse when I entered, Mr. Giles. Her moans attracted me
+into the room. While I was seeing by match-light what was the matter,
+someone locked the door, and bolted with my motor."
+
+"The lady I saw, sir."
+
+"No doubt, since I did not bring a lady with me."
+
+"I wonder if she got the eye," muttered Giles half to himself.
+
+"She must have got something that wasn't hers, else she would not have
+made use of my car to escape."
+
+"Then she must have taken the eye," Giles muttered again.
+
+"What the deuce are you talking about? Why should she steal a glass
+eye?"
+
+"That's what I'd like to know, sir. It's an odd thing to steal. And I
+never knew that Mrs. Caldershaw's left eye was a glass one, though she
+told Mrs. Faith about it. Well, it's gone----"
+
+"And the lady who stole my motor car took it. At least it seems so.
+But I tell you what, Mr. Giles, I'm too hungry to discuss the matter
+just now. The whole business is a mystery to me, and Destiny has
+dragged me into it in a most unpleasant way."
+
+Giles nodded. "It's easy seen you're innocent, sir," he said with an
+air of relief. "You wouldn't talk so, if you weren't."
+
+"I don't know so much about that. Guilt can wear a mask of brazen
+innocence if necessary. How do you know I haven't murdered Mrs.
+Caldershaw, and at this moment may not have the celebrated glass eye
+in my trouser pocket?"
+
+"We don't know yet that she's been murdered, Mr. Vance. There was no
+wound----"
+
+"Pooh! She might have been poisoned."
+
+"Why do you think so, sir?" asked Giles quickly.
+
+"Because I write melodramas, and always look on the most dramatic
+side. Oh, this is your cottage, is it? Quite a stage cottage, with
+plenty of greenery about the porch."
+
+Giles did not know what to make of my chatter.
+
+"You're a funny gent, sir."
+
+"A hungry one, at all events, my friend. Is this your wife? How are
+you, Mrs. Giles? I am your husband's prisoner, and for the time being
+your cottage is a gaol. Mrs. Caldershaw's dead, and I've stolen her
+glass eye."
+
+"Mrs. Caldershaw dead!" gasped Mrs. Giles, a rosy-faced little woman,
+who turned pale at the sudden announcement. "What does the gentleman
+mean, Sam?"
+
+"Sit down, sir," said Giles, pushing forward a chair, then turned
+towards his astonished and somewhat terrified wife to explain. In a
+few minutes Mrs. Giles was in full possession of the facts which had
+led me to her abode. She listened in silence, her face now quite white
+and drawn. "What does it all mean, Sam?" she asked under her breath.
+
+"That's what we've got to find out, Sarah. Warshaw has been sent for
+from Arkleigh, and when he comes, we'll see what is to be done."
+
+"Warshaw and Caldershaw," I murmured; "rather similar names. I hope
+your policeman friend will wire to Murchester about my car."
+
+"There's no telegraph office hereabout, sir. I expect he'll send in a
+messenger to Murchester for the Inspector, and for your friend, sir."
+
+"Lord Cannington? Oh, yes. He can identify me as Cyrus Vance."
+
+"What!" said Mrs. Giles, who was recovering her colour, "the gentleman
+who wrote them lovely plays?"
+
+"The same," I assented, "and the gentleman's very hungry."
+
+"You shall have supper in a few minutes," cried Mrs. Giles, much
+impressed with the angel she had hitherto entertained unawares. "Sam,
+did you bring back that bacon?"
+
+"Nor I didn't, my dear, 'cos there wasn't anyone to sell the bacon,
+Mrs. Caldershaw being dead."
+
+"Ugh!" shuddered the little woman. "I'll never be able to eat another
+thing out of that shop. A murder----"
+
+"We don't know that it's a murder," interposed her husband hastily.
+
+I laughed. "You shouted murder lustily enough when you had me down,
+Giles."
+
+The man looked sheepish. "I made a mistake and thought you was a
+robber, until I saw you were a gent."
+
+"Well a gent can be a robber, you know. Many gents are."
+
+"They steal something more valuable than glass eyes, sir."
+
+I rather liked Giles, who was a burly, heavy-faced animal man, with,
+as I said before, a most engaging smile. His jaw was of the bull-dog
+order, but his eyes were extremely intelligent, so I judged that his
+native wits had been considerably sharpened by his sojourn in the
+Borough of Southwark. Such a man could easily master the less
+travelled villagers, and I found that such was the case. Giles acted
+as a kind of headman of Mootley, and his opinion carried great weight
+in the village councils. It was just as well that I had fallen into
+the hands of such a man, otherwise, unable to see that I was innocent
+of assault and robbery, I should have been less hospitably treated. As
+it was, I found myself extremely comfortable.
+
+Mrs. Giles bustled about in a cheery way, although the news of Mrs.
+Caldershaw's death seemed to have somewhat scared her. While getting
+the supper and laying the cloth and attending to the kettle she would
+frequently pause to consider her husband's story. "I rather think she
+expected it," said Mrs. Giles, putting a pot of jam on the table.
+
+"Expected what, Sarah?" asked her husband, guessing what she alluded
+to.
+
+"Death, Sam, death. She told me once that she was sure she would not
+die in her bed."
+
+"Then you think that she has been murdered?" I questioned.
+
+"Yes, I do think so, sir; else why should she speak in that way? And
+in church she always said that part of the Litany about being saved
+from battle, murder, and sudden death louder than any."
+
+"There was no blood and no wound," muttered Giles, turning this speech
+over in his mind. "Frampton said he thought it was a fit. But come and
+draw your chair, in, sir. We're humble folk, but what we have is at
+your service."
+
+"You're very kind folk," I said, obeying the invitation. "Frampton and
+Mrs. Faith would have tied me up and starved me."
+
+"Ignorant people, sir, who don't know any better. Bread, sir? jam,
+sir? yes, sir."
+
+He was really most polite for a greengrocer, and I grew to like him
+more and more, as I did his busy, bright-faced little wife. The supper
+was homely but very nourishing, and I drank tea and devoured bread and
+jam, until my hunger was quite satisfied. During the meal the husband
+and wife told me that Mrs. Caldershaw had kept the corner shop--so
+they called it--for the last five years, and had never been popular
+amongst her neighbours. It was believed that she had miserly
+tendencies and had much money tucked away in a stocking. Her age was
+sixty, but she was an active woman for her years and lived entirely
+alone. It seemed that she had been born in Mootley, but had been
+absent for many years out at service--so she said, although she spoke
+very little about her past. With her savings--again this was the story
+of Mrs. Caldershaw--she had returned to die in her native village and,
+for the sake of something to do, had opened the corner shop.
+
+"Did she have many callers?" I asked, mentally noting details.
+
+"She never said so," remarked Mrs. Giles, who being somewhat of a
+gossip took the lead in the conversation. "She was a close one, she
+was. And the shop being round the corner, sir, we"--I presume she
+meant herself and the other gossips--"could never see who came or
+went. She lived quite outside our lives, sir, owing to the position of
+the shop and her own way of keeping to herself. Once she did say she'd
+never die in her bed, and that's what makes me think as she may have
+been done away with. But I never knew, Sam, that she'd a glass eye."
+
+"I didn't know either," said Sam, who was devouring huge slices of
+bread and butter. "She told Mrs. Faith, though. I've seen her heaps of
+times, but I never spotted that one eye was living and the other dead.
+And why it should have been stolen by that lady who went off with your
+motor, Mr. Vance, sends me fair silly."
+
+"What was the lady like, Sam?"
+
+"I can't exactly tell you, Sarah, as it was growing so dark. She was
+tall, with a long white cloak, a cap, and a veil. That's all I know.
+Hullo!"
+
+He started from his seat, as the sound of excited voices was heard. A
+moment later and the cottage door was violently flung open to admit
+the stout, dark-faced woman, whom Giles had addressed as Mrs. Faith.
+She was half leading, half supporting another woman, small and wizen
+and weak-looking. Behind came a disorderly crowd of women and men.
+Evidently Mootley, unused to sensational happenings, was making the
+most of this one.
+
+"It's a lady as come in a cart, sir," began Mrs. Faith excitedly, when
+Frampton, looking over her shoulder, interrupted.
+
+"A trap, sir; a trap driven by another woman."
+
+"O dear me," moaned the little creature, who had now been deposited in
+a capacious chair. "Where am I now?"
+
+"With friends, dear, with friends," said Mrs. Giles, stroking her
+hands. "Sam get the whisky; it's in the cupboard near the fire. And
+all you people clear out. She'll never get well if you stop here
+upsetting her."
+
+"I'll see to it," cried Mrs. Faith, and forthwith in a most masterful
+way bundled the crowd out-of-doors. They would not have gone so
+easily, had not the magnet of the shop containing the corpse drawn
+them; but go they did, and Mrs. Faith closed the door.
+
+"Warshaw has arrived," she explained dramatically, "and is
+examining all the place. He'll be along here soon, sir, to take you in
+charge. This lady," she waved her large hands towards the little
+half-unconscious woman, "came along in a cart with another one
+driving----"
+
+"Another lady?" I asked curiously.
+
+"Another woman," snorted Mrs. Faith contemptuously, "and only one
+horse the cart had; for cart it was, though Frampton called it a trap.
+But she came along, sir," she continued officiously, "and said as she
+saw your motor engine run into a field. It smashed a gate, it did,
+and----"
+
+"Stop," cried the little lady, opening her eyes and half rising. "I'll
+tell the gentleman all about it. Miss Destiny; sir, Miss Destiny--my
+name," and she curtsied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+AFTER EVENTS
+
+
+Here was a freakish thing. I had talked about Destiny as a _dea ex
+machina_, and the goddess personally had come to superintend the drama
+in which I was supposed--as I shrewdly suspected by this time--to take
+a leading part. However, as open confession is good for the soul, I
+may as well state, and at the eleventh hour, that this story was
+written when the mystery was solved and justice had been done--I threw
+it, as it were, into a fictional form. Thus, as I knew the odd name of
+the little lady when writing I played upon its oddity, and saw in her
+the incarnation of the goddess who maps out the future. You can take
+this explanation with or without the proverbial grain of salt, as you
+choose. Meanwhile, here we are on the threshold of a mystery, and a
+flesh and blood creature, with the significant name of Destiny appears
+on the scene.
+
+When the new-comer stood up and turned her face to the light I had a
+better view of her. She was even smaller than Mrs. Giles--what one
+would call a tiny woman--and was perfectly shaped. Not quite a dwarf,
+but very nearly one, and her face, pointed, wrinkled, and of a
+parchment hue, looked as old as the Pyramids. The most youthful thing
+about her was the undimmed brilliancy of her eyes. These, dark,
+piercing, unwinking, and marvellously steady, blazed--I use the word
+advisedly--under a Marie Antoinette arrangement of wonderfully white
+hair, like spun silk. Her hat had been removed by the officious Mrs.
+Faith, so I could take in her looks very easily. She wore a shabby
+black silk dress, much worn, an equally shabby black velvet mantle,
+old-fashioned and trimmed sparsely with beads, and had cotton
+gloves--black ones--on her skinny hands, with cloth boots on her tiny
+feet. From her general appearance she might have stepped out of a
+child's fairy-book, as a representation of Cinderella's godmother. As
+her first faintness had passed away--thanks to Mrs. Giles' whisky--she
+was now wonderfully composed, and stood before me dropping elfish
+curtseys without a tremor of the face, or a blink of the eye.
+
+"Miss Destiny," she said again; "and you, sir?"
+
+"Cyrus Vance," I answered, "at present in custody as a suspected
+robber."
+
+Giles murmured something incoherent to the effect that this was not
+so, but Miss Destiny paid no attention to him. "Robber of what, sir?"
+
+"Of Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye."
+
+"O dear me!" The little lady sat down promptly. "Do you mean to say
+that she has lost it at last, and that you took it?"
+
+"I did not take it, madam, although I am credited with the theft, but
+it is assuredly lost. But why--at last?"
+
+Miss Destiny moved her hands in the shabby black cotton gloves
+nervously and swallowed something--possibly the truth, although I had,
+on the face of it, no reason to suspect her of lying. "I was on my way
+to see Anne Caldershaw," she said timidly.
+
+"What?" Mrs. Faith's dark countenance lighted up with curiosity. "You
+knew her--you knew her."
+
+"Intimately," replied Miss Destiny, somewhat primly. "She was my
+brother's housekeeper at Burwain for years. Then he died, and Anne
+came here. Burwain, which is between Gattlingsands and Tarhaven, is
+subject to fogs," explained the little lady, "and Anne believed that
+clear inland air would suit her chest better."
+
+I knew Burwain as a somnolent hamlet set in a flat country and muffled
+with woods and tall hedges. This very day had I passed it in the
+Rippler, when conveying Cannington to Murchester. It was odd that this
+little woman should mention it of all places.
+
+"You know that Mrs. Caldershaw is dead," I ventured to remark.
+
+Miss Destiny threw up her hands. "The shock of it," she whimpered. "I
+was coming to see her and remain for the night. My servant, Lucinda,
+drove me from Burwain in my trap."
+
+"Cart," struck in Mrs. Faith vehemently, while Giles and his wife,
+standing near the fire, held their peace.
+
+"It is a cart," admitted Miss Destiny, "which I have turned into a
+trap, as I am very, very, very poor." Her voice ascended to the last
+word. "Yesterday morning I started, and stayed last night with a
+friend at Saxham, which is half way to Murchester. This morning we
+drove on again, and were approaching Mootley when the motor car nearly
+smashed my trap."
+
+"My motor car?" I asked quickly.
+
+"I heard something about its belonging to a gentleman," said Miss
+Destiny; "it was, however, driven by a woman in a long white
+cloak----"
+
+"The lady I saw," murmured Giles, of whom Miss Destiny took no notice.
+
+"She drove headlong down a steep incline, and came within a
+handbreadth of the trap, Mr. Vance. Then she swerved round and went
+smashing through a wooden gate, not too securely fashioned, into a
+field. I was very much upset, and Lucinda--always mindful of my
+comfort--drove on to Mootley as quickly as possible. There"--Miss
+Destiny rose and became quite dramatic--"I was met with the news that
+Anne Caldershaw had been found dead. The news upset me so that I
+nearly fainted. But this good woman," she indicated Mrs. Faith with a
+gracious bend of the head, "brought me here; and I am obliged to these
+honest people," she nodded towards Giles and his wife, "for reviving
+me. Where I am to stop the night I don't know, as Anne informed me in
+her letter that there is no inn here."
+
+"There's a public-house," put in Giles reflectively, "but it isn't fit
+for a lady like you. If you will stay here, ma'am, for the night----"
+
+"If it's not very expensive," interrupted Miss Destiny.
+
+"It will cost nothing, ma'am," said Giles curtly. "I'm none so poor,
+but what I can't give a bite and a bed to a stranger."
+
+"Then I accept with pleasure," replied Miss Destiny, and really seemed
+delighted at the idea of getting bed and breakfast for nothing. Either
+she was very poor, or she was avaricious. I could not decide which,
+but gave her the benefit of the doubt, and looked upon her as a
+reduced gentlewoman.
+
+"What about me, Giles?" I asked when this was settled.
+
+"It's early yet, sir, so if you will wait here until Lord Cannington
+comes from Murchester, you can go back with him, after seeing
+Warshaw."
+
+"Oh, I don't want to go back. I am anxious to see the end of this
+tragedy."
+
+"In that case, sir, the missus can put you up too, if you don't mind a
+shake-down. There's room enough for all."
+
+"I can make you comfortable in the parlour," said Mrs. Giles, thinking
+of ways and means, "the lady can sleep in the spare bedroom."
+
+"With Lucinda," put in Miss Destiny. "She is outside with the trap,
+and if you will see that the horse is put into some stable and that
+Lucinda is brought in to have supper, you will be conferring a great
+favour on me. I really couldn't sleep without Lucinda, as my nerves
+are not what they ought to be, and this dreadful occurrence has upset
+them greatly."
+
+Giles, who seemed to be singularly generous and hospitable, nodded and
+went out to see after Lucinda and the trap, while Mrs. Giles boiled a
+couple of eggs for the visitor who had so unexpectedly appeared. Mrs.
+Faith, with her hands on her hips, and her dark face alive with
+curiosity, stared hard at the frail figure of the shabby little lady.
+"About the glass eye," she asked eagerly, with a side glance at me,
+"which this gentleman took?"
+
+"I didn't take it," I said sharply, for the way in which the woman
+assumed me to be guilty was unbearable. "So far as I remember, Mrs.
+Caldershaw had two eyes when I saw her body, though, to be sure, I
+might have been mistaken, seeing I had only a match. And I was
+mistaken," I added vigorously, "for if the woman who stole my motor
+car took the eye, she must have done so before I saw the corpse. But
+why should the eye be stolen?" I looked at Miss Destiny for an answer.
+
+The little old lady shook her head. "It's the oddest thing," she said
+at length and in a lively manner. "When Anne was my brother's
+housekeeper, it was well known that she had a glass eye to which she
+appeared to attach a ridiculous value. She often declared that she
+would not lose it for a fortune. What she meant I can't say; but since
+the eye has been stolen, she must have meant something."
+
+"It's remarkably strange," I muttered, for the mystery of the eye was
+beginning to attract me. "Have you no idea----"
+
+"I know nothing more than I have told you," said Miss Destiny sharply.
+"By the way, how did Anne die?"
+
+"No one knows," said Mrs. Faith, determined to join in the
+conversation and restless at having kept silence for so long.
+"Frampton declared that she had a fit."
+
+"Nonsense. Anne, so far as I know, never had fits. A lean, spare woman
+such as Anne was, could not have a fit."
+
+"Lean people may have fits as well as fat ones," said I wisely.
+
+"I am not doctor enough to say," said Miss Destiny wearily, "and I am
+very tired with the journey and the news I have received. Poor Anne,
+she was a good and faithful servant."
+
+"She wasn't popular here," said Mrs. Faith tartly.
+
+"She kept very much to herself," said Mrs. Giles, placing the eggs
+before Miss Destiny; "a very close woman."
+
+"Anne never was one for gossip," observed Miss Destiny, sipping a cup
+of hot tea. "None knew her better than I."
+
+"Tell us all about her," said Mrs. Faith curiously.
+
+Miss Destiny shook her head. "I am too tired," she confessed, "and
+after I have had my supper I shall go to bed, if this honest woman
+permits. To-morrow I shall tell the police all I know."
+
+"The police," said Mrs. Giles, with a start.
+
+"Certainly." Miss Destiny looked hard at the greengrocer's wife. "As
+Anne is so mysteriously dead, and as her glass eye is missing, and as
+this gentleman's motor car has been carried off--so they told me at
+the shop--the police will certainly ask questions. I shall answer
+them."
+
+Mrs. Faith struck in again. "But can you give any reason?"
+
+"I shall say nothing at present," interrupted Miss Destiny, with quite
+a grand air of rebuke. "Oh, Lucinda!"
+
+The door had opened while she spoke and a gigantic figure, whether of
+man or woman, stepped cumbrously into the room. I doubted the sex,
+because although Lucinda wore petticoats, she also wore a distinct
+moustache, and displayed a rugged flat face, masculine in contour.
+With a man's cap on her scanty drab-hued hair and a man's pea-jacket
+clothing her spare body, with large driving-gloves and a red muffler,
+and nothing feminine about her save a short dress of light blue,
+beneath which appeared a pair of large lace-up boots, I may be excused
+for my doubts. Her eyes were grey and small and tired-looking, but
+they lighted with tender love when she beheld her mistress. Miss
+Destiny, looked smaller than ever, as the huge woman strode towards
+her to speak in one of the sweetest voices I have ever heard. These
+nightingale notes, proceeding from a kind of female Blunderbore, were
+scarcely in keeping with the coarse exterior.
+
+"Are you rested, mistress? have you eaten? is your head bad? are your
+feet cold?" demanded Lucinda in a breath and with a voice of an
+archangel.
+
+"I am much better, Lucinda," said Miss Destiny wearily, "but I should
+like to go to my room," and she closed her bright black eyes.
+
+"I'll take you there, mistress," said the Amazon, and picked up the
+little woman like a feather, turning to address Mrs. Giles as she did
+so. "Where's the bedroom, mum?"
+
+"I'll show you," said Mrs. Giles, and conducted the odd couple into an
+inner room with an air of amazement, which showed that Lucinda had
+startled her also by the mixed sexual appearance she presented. I
+could not help thinking that Giles and his wife were a singularly
+good-natured couple to allow the house to be stormed in this fashion.
+
+"What do you think of it all?" asked Mrs. Faith when we were alone. I
+was beginning to dislike the woman for her unwarrantable curiosity.
+
+"It is amusing."
+
+"Amusing!" She stared aghast.
+
+"The unexpected is always amusing," said I. "But come outside and
+we'll see Giles. I want him to take me to Mrs. Caldershaw's shop
+again. It is necessary for me to see Warshaw and tell him my story. I
+don't want a garbled version to reach him, as it is hard to remove
+first impressions."
+
+Mrs. Faith, keeping a jealous eye on me--I verily believe that she
+still credited me with knowing more about the death that I would
+confess--shepherded me round the cottage into a small stable, where
+Giles was attending to the horse. After delivering me into his charge
+with the air of a police officer, she remarked that she would go home
+and drink a cup of tea. I was glad to see the back of the inquisitive
+woman, and said as much to Giles.
+
+"Ay," he remarked, smiling quietly, "she's a rare one for other
+people's business is Mrs. Faith. Well, sir, what's to be done now?"
+
+"I want you to come with me to Mrs. Caldershaw's shop, as I must see
+the policeman. And I say, Giles," I added, as we turned out of the
+yard and walked along the dark, damp road, "it's ridiculous all of us
+using your cottage as a hotel in this fashion. If Miss Destiny doesn't
+pay you I shall do so, and in any case, I shall pay for myself."
+
+"You're of a forgiving nature, Mr. Vance, seeing how nearly I broke
+your neck, sir," said Giles, smiling again.
+
+"Pooh! I would have done the same myself, seeing that I was taken, as
+it were, red-handed. By the way, you heard of the way in which this
+strange woman has run my motor into a field?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Lucinda--she told me her name--explained what had
+happened."
+
+"I hope my car isn't smashed up," I grumbled, turning up my coat
+collar, for the night was growing chilly. "I don't suppose that thief
+of a woman could drive for nuts. Well, well, it's a queer business
+altogether. I wonder how it will all end?"
+
+"We must wait and see, Mr. Vance. These things are in the hands of
+Providence, you know," said Giles soberly, and then I gathered that
+the retired greengrocer had a strong religious vein--evangelistical
+for choice.
+
+"Or in the hands of Miss Destiny," I murmured, for I still held to the
+fantastical belief that the shabby little woman had come from Olympus.
+
+During the two hours which had elapsed since Giles took me into
+custody, law and order had been established in and about the tragic
+shop. Warshaw--as I afterwards learned--had come post-haste from
+Arkleigh, which was no very great distance away, and had brought with
+him a brother constable. This last was on guard at the shop door,
+before which a group of people were chattering excitedly, and Warshaw
+himself attended to the inside of the house. A few words to the
+Cerebus gained Giles and myself admission, and we were informed
+incidentally that a messenger on bicycle had been sent to the
+Murchester Inspector with details of the death and of the loot of the
+motor car. Shortly, said the policeman at the door, the Inspector
+would arrive to take charge of the case.
+
+Warshaw proved to be a lean, red-haired, sedate young constable, who
+had been in the army and who knew a gentleman when he saw one. He was
+therefore extremely civil to me, and heard my story with great
+gravity. Afterwards he questioned Giles, and then logged both tales in
+his pocket-book. He did not seem to suspect that I was guilty of
+assault or robbery, but intimated politely that it would be just as
+well if I remained in his company until Inspector Dredge arrived from
+Murchester. Then I offered him a cigarette and we began to chat.
+
+"What do you think of the case?" I asked, lighting up.
+
+"I don't know what to think of it, sir," he replied with a doubtful
+air. "The deceased is dead, but, not being a doctor, I can't see
+how she came by her death. Her left eye--which I believe was a glass
+one--is missing, and a man said it was in her head at five o'clock
+when she attended to him in the shop. Yes," he shook his closely
+cropped hair, "it's a queer case."
+
+"Do you think she was assaulted and rendered insensible for the sake
+of this glass eye?"
+
+"I can't say, sir, and if I might suggest to you, sir, it will be best
+to ask no questions and to say nothing on your part until Inspector
+Dredge arrives."
+
+"I shall only ask one question, Warshaw. Has anything been stolen?"
+
+"No, sir. It isn't a case of burglary, I swear."
+
+After Warshaw's hint, of course, I held my tongue. We were in the back
+room, and the corpse of Mrs. Caldershaw was still lying on the floor
+with a rug over it. Until Dredge and a doctor arrived the local
+policeman wisely decided to leave it as it had been found. I shuddered
+a trifle at the cold clay of the unfortunate woman, which I knew lay
+under the gaudy rug, and glanced round the room. It was of no great
+size and furnished in a plain way--comfortable enough, but not
+luxurious. The walls were adorned with a flamboyant red paper,
+scrolled aggressively with some unnatural green vegetation; and on the
+floor a diapered black and white linoleum lay under a white-washed
+ceiling. The furniture consisted of an Early Victorian horsehair
+mahogany suite, adorned with vividly tinted antimacassars; a
+sticky-looking varnished side-board, upon which stood a decayed
+wedding-cake top under a glass shade; a moderately sized round table
+covered with a blue cloth, and over it a home-made swing bookcase,
+containing antique and uninviting volumes, chiefly concerned, as I
+discovered, with religion. Also there was an old-fashioned grate in
+which a diminutive fire smouldered, a grandfather clock--now
+indicating the hour of nine--and finally, on the glaringly covered
+walls a few cheap oleographs, apparently taken from the Christmas
+numbers of illustrated papers. A tall brass-pillared lamp, giving out
+an exceedingly bad light, stood on the round table, and but faintly
+illuminated the homely apartment.
+
+Later my attention was attracted by a photograph on the mantelpiece--a
+sumptuous photograph by an artistic London firm, set in an ornate
+silver frame, far too expensive for the late Mrs. Caldershaw to
+have purchased herself. I struck a match to examine it. Out of the
+semi-darkness flashed a truly lovely face, with the sweetest smile I
+had ever beheld. In the flickering light, I saw the head and shoulders
+and bust of a girl--a lady, a goddess I might say. She was arrayed in
+an evening dress of the simplest kind, untrimmed and unadorned in any
+way. Not even a necklace appeared on the swan-like grace of the neck,
+and no bracelets accentuated the outline of the finely-moulded arms.
+And the face--I fell in love with it at sight--with its haunting eyes
+and grave, tender, wishful smile. The hair was dressed in the plain
+Greek fashion, and the head, being turned a trifle to one side,
+ravished me with its chaste loveliness. Doubtless the picture
+represented a modern young lady, but to me it gleamed forth from the
+darkness as a revelation of Diana, but not of the Ephesians. No! here
+was the virginal huntress, who slew Actæn, who solaced the dying
+Hippolytus, and who came to Endymion in dreams on Mount Latmus. I was
+no raw boy, and--I have confessed it before--I had never been in love;
+but this exquisite face captured my heart, my fancy, my psychic
+senses, and all that there was in me to respond to the mystery of sex.
+Love at first sight was a mighty truth after all. Here was--my wife.
+
+"Nonsense," said I aloud at this point, and the match went out after
+burning my fingers. The men looked up inquiringly, and keeping well
+back in the gloom I coloured warmly. "It's nothing. An idle thought
+passed through my mind. I wonder,"--here I hesitated, as I was on the
+verge of asking the two what they knew about the portrait. But an
+inexplicable sense of nervous shame kept me silent on this point and I
+finished my sentence in another way. "I wonder when the Inspector will
+arrive," said I with a yawn.
+
+At that moment, as if in answer to my question, the sound of
+approaching wheels was heard, and we sharply walked into the shop to
+see a trap halting before the door. A tall, military-looking man
+descended and stalked forward, followed by a policeman and a cheerful
+red-faced individual, who looked what he was--a country practitioner.
+A carefully cultivated habit of observation--invaluable to playwright
+or novelist--has quickened my comprehension, so I guessed the doctor's
+profession the moment he entered the shop. Dredge was grim and
+hard-mouthed and steady-eyed, and sparing of words on all occasions.
+He listened to Warshaw's report without committing himself to speech,
+and then tersely asked the doctor--Scoot was his queer name--to
+inspect the corpse in his presence. I remained with Giles in the shop,
+as I had no desire to participate in the gruesome examination. The
+policeman who had come from Murchester, took up his station at the
+door along with his comrade, and to him I addressed myself.
+
+"Do you know if the messenger who came to see Inspector Dredge went on
+to the Barracks?" I asked, for I was wondering why Cannington had not
+arrived.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the officer saluting. "As soon as the Inspector heard
+of the murder he sent him on, and then we drove here."
+
+"Strange!" I murmured, for I knew that Cannington was not the boy to
+let grass grow under his feet when a friend was in trouble. As it was
+still early he would not be in bed, and as some hours had elapsed,
+there was ample time for him to arrive. Indeed I had expected him to
+precede the police.
+
+Giles frowned and shook his head. "I think Ashley was sent," he said
+in his rough voice, "and he's but a wastrel. I only hope he has gone
+to the Barracks, and is not drinking in some public-house. News of a
+murder will get him many free drinks."
+
+I shrugged my shoulders. "That may be the case, Giles. However, it
+doesn't matter. I can stay with you, and to-morrow we can send a more
+reliable messenger to Lord Cannington."
+
+"Oh, his lordship may arrive yet," ventured the ex-greengrocer.
+
+"Perhaps. But I doubt it. He would have arrived before had he heard of
+my dilemma. Ah, here's the Inspector."
+
+Dredge looked more gloomy and forbidding than ever. I understood,
+although he did not inform me, that Dr. Scoot was still examining the
+dead body, and that Dredge had come to ask questions. I was right in
+my latter surmise, at all events, for he examined me thoroughly and
+set down my replies in a book. Then he gave me a piece of information.
+
+"Your motor car, sir, is standing in a field some distance from
+Murchester, abandoned. We saw it through the broken gate, when we
+drove past. A hasty examination showed us that it has not been much
+injured."
+
+Before I could reply, the agitated voice of Scoot was heard calling
+for the Inspector. I followed Dredge into the back room. The doctor
+had opened the dead woman's bodice and was pointing to a gleam of blue
+glass.
+
+"See! see!" he said loudly, "the head of a hat-pin!" He drew it out.
+"Yes, this poor wretched woman has been murdered by having a hat-pin
+thrust into her heart."
+
+I thought of the white-cloaked female who had stolen my car, but said
+nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+FACTS
+
+
+Next morning brought Cannington in a towering rage to Mootley. He
+arrived in a motor while I was breakfasting at nine o'clock, and
+explained with many apologies that he had become aware of my
+difficulties only one hour previously.
+
+"That silly blighter you sent," said the boy volubly, "never came to
+the Barracks last night. After telling the police what had happened,
+he started to come to me--this is his story, remember--but on the way
+dropped into a pub. There he talked about the murder, and was supplied
+with so many free drinks that he wasn't in a fit state to leave."
+
+"Humph!" said I, going on with my breakfast, "Giles was right it
+seems. This Ashley animal is a wastrel. Well?"
+
+"Well," echoed Cannington, fuming, "there is no well about it. The
+intoxicated beast only turned up this morning at nine o'clock. I was
+in bed when my servant brought in the message, and when I saw him I
+told him off, confound him for a silly ape. Then I got Trent to loan
+me his car and came along here as soon as I could bathe and dress."
+
+"Have you had breakfast?"
+
+"Oh, damn breakfast! No."
+
+"Well, sit down and have some, if Mrs. Giles," glanced at the little
+woman, who was hovering round the fire, "permits."
+
+"I'll set another cup and plate at once, sir," she said, evidently
+fluttered at the idea of entertaining a real live lord, "but I'm
+afraid, sir, that eggs and bacon and tea ain't what the young
+gentleman's used to."
+
+"I don't know anything better," said Cannington graciously, and soon
+was occupied industriously in filling up. "And I do call it beastly,"
+he said between mouthfuls, "that I should have been out of all the
+fun. If I'd only come along with you, Vance----"
+
+"You'd have been arrested, as I am," I finished.
+
+"Oh, come now, that's a bit too thick. You didn't rob this woman, or
+murder her for one of your melodramas, did you?"
+
+"Who said she was murdered?" I asked, taking another cup of tea.
+
+"That blighter who came this morning."
+
+"How the deuce does he know? The murder was only found out after he
+went to Murchester. Everyone--myself included--thought that it was
+merely robbery of a glass eye."
+
+"A glass eye!" Cannington stared. "Who the deuce would steal a glass
+eye?"
+
+"The woman who annexed my motor car, and who murdered Mrs. Caldershaw
+by sticking a hat-pin into her heart, stole it."
+
+"Whose glass eye was it?"
+
+"Mrs. Caldershaw's."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+"The dead woman."
+
+Cannington gulped down a cup of tea and requested particulars. "You
+see I was in such a rage that I heard very little from the messenger,"
+he explained apologetically. "All I gathered was that some woman had
+been murdered and robbed, and that you were suspected. I hurried along
+to tell the police that they were idiots, and----"
+
+"Oh, not such idiots," said I, pushing back my chair and lighting a
+cigarette. "You see I was caught red-handed by Mrs. Giles' husband."
+
+"Oh, sir," put in the greengrocer's wife deprecatingly.
+
+"Begin at the beginning," commanded Cannington, who was still eating
+with the healthy appetite of a young animal, "and go on to the end.
+I'm not clever enough to make up a story out of scraps."
+
+Thus adjured I detailed all that had taken place from the time I had
+left him at the Mess-room door on the previous day. He became so
+interested that he ceased to eat, and at the conclusion of my
+narrative jumped up from his chair with an ejaculation. "By Jove,"
+said he, recalling our conversation in the Rippler, "adventures are to
+the adventurous, aren't they? This real life business beats any of
+your melodramas."
+
+"I agree. Truth is always more impossible than fiction."
+
+"An epigram doesn't meet the case," snapped Cannington.
+
+"It sums it up, my boy. Who could ever invent such a situation--I
+speak as a playwright, you understand. I could never have imagined the
+tragedy of an old woman killed by a hat-pin for the sake of her glass
+eye, much less the implicating of an inoffensive stranger, and the
+theft of his motor by the murderess."
+
+"You are sure she is guilty?"
+
+"Certainly! Who but a woman would use a hat-pin to slay, and who but a
+woman would have a hat-pin to use?"
+
+"But why should she kill the old woman?"
+
+"That question can only be answered when we know more about the lady
+in the white cloak, who bolted with my car."
+
+"Who is she?"
+
+"Helen of Troy, for all I know. What silly questions you ask,
+Cannington."
+
+"I'm not Sherlock Holmes," he retorted, "and I _did_ come on straight
+to help you through this business."
+
+"Forgive me, boy; you're a brick. What about your duties?"
+
+"I got leave from the adjutant. That's all right. What's to be done
+now?"
+
+"We must see Inspector Dredge, and look after my motor, which is still
+piled up in the field where the lady left it. Clever woman that. She
+knew that she might be traced by the number, and so got rid of the
+car. I daresay she footed it to Murchester, and went on to London by
+the night train."
+
+"In a white cloak she'd be traced."
+
+"If she was fool enough to wear it," said I dryly, "but I daresay
+we'll find that white cloak packed away in the car."
+
+"Come along and let us see," cried Cannington, greatly excited.
+
+"One moment. Mrs. Giles, what about Miss Destiny and her servant?"
+
+"She's not up yet, sir, and Lucinda has taken in her breakfast."
+
+"Is she returning to Burwain to-day?"
+
+"I think so, sir. But Sam told Inspector Dredge of what she said last
+night, and he wishes to ask her questions about Mrs. Caldershaw's
+past."
+
+I nodded. "No doubt. In Mrs. Caldershaw's past will be found the
+motive for the committal of this strange crime. That glass eye was a
+dangerous possession, Mrs. Giles."
+
+"Lor', sir, do you think that has anything to do with it?"
+
+"Everything, if you remember what Miss Destiny said about the value
+Mrs. Caldershaw attached to that glass eye. She is dead, and
+evidently--since the eye is missing--was murdered for its possession.
+Depend upon it, Mrs. Giles, when Inspector Dredge learns the history
+of that eye, he will be able to lay his hand on this lady who so
+ingeniously escaped."
+
+"But after all," said Cannington, looking back from the door, "you
+really aren't arrested, Vance, are you?"
+
+"You can put it that I am under surveillance, boy."
+
+"What rot."
+
+"Come and tell Dredge so," said I, taking his arm. "I'll be back soon,
+Mrs. Giles, so tell your husband," and with a nod I went out.
+
+We found Cannington's--or rather Trent's--motor at the door, and got
+into it to proceed to the shop round the corner. Here we found
+Inspector Dredge, surrounded by his myrmidons, and I explained to him
+that my friend had come to vouch for my respectability; also that I
+desired to go in search of my Rippler. The Inspector, although as
+grim-faced, was less taciturn than on the previous night, and received
+my explanation most kindly, assuring me that there was little need for
+Lord Cannington to state my honourable qualities. "Although," he
+added, "his lordship is welcome to depose to your position, as a
+matter of form."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Vance is all right," said Cannington cheerily, "he only
+commits murders on the stage."
+
+"I don't think even on the stage I ever committed so ingenious a
+murder as this one seems to be," I retorted.
+
+Dredge nodded. "Yes. This unknown woman is singularly clever."
+
+"Then you think she is guilty?"
+
+"What else can I think, Mr. Vance?" said Dredge, raising his eyebrows.
+"From what you tell me, I am inclined to think that she was hiding in
+an upstairs room--there are two--when you entered the shop. Possibly
+the sound and appearance of your car drove her there after she had
+murdered the unfortunate Mrs. Caldershaw. You did not enter the shop
+immediately?"
+
+"Well, no, I was a few minutes looking into things connected with the
+car."
+
+"And the shop was in darkness?"
+
+"Complete darkness."
+
+"I thought so. This woman heard your car coming, and later on saw it.
+She doubtless slipped out of the back room, where she had just stabbed
+her victim, and had the eye--this seems to be the motive for the
+commission of the crime--in her pocket. She could not walk into the
+road without running a chance of meeting you, so she sprang up the
+stairs yonder"--he pointed to the steps, which clung to the wall on
+one side and had a light railing on the other--"and took refuge in the
+bedroom. When she heard you enter the back room, she came down turned
+the key, and ran away with your car."
+
+"Humph!" said I, after a pause, "permit me to put you right on one
+point, Mr. Inspector. I believe that the woman was in the back room
+when I entered the shop, for when I tried the door in order to find
+someone, it was locked."
+
+"Really!" Dredge made a hasty note. "Was the key on the outside?"
+
+"I don't remember. All I know was that I could not pull open the
+door."
+
+"She would not have had time to change the key from the inside to the
+outside," mused the Inspector. "I daresay the key all along was on the
+outside, as it is now." He glanced at the door leading into the back
+room, and sure enough there was the key. "Possibly, she shot the
+bolt--there is one on the hither side of the door, as I noticed.
+Well?"
+
+"Well, while I was filling the tank of my car with petrol she must
+have emerged, and--as you say--unable to escape without observation by
+the road, she must have slipped upstairs. When I found the door open
+on trying it for the second time, I entered the back room, attracted
+by the last moan of the dying woman. Then she--the murderess, I
+mean--must have come down, and after softly turning the key, have gone
+off in my car."
+
+"But why should she leave the car in a field?" asked Cannington.
+
+"To the more easily escape," said Dredge, raising his eyebrows. "A car
+with a number could easily be traced. She took it as near Murchester
+as she dared, then abandoned it, and walked to the town. That is my
+theory, and then she could either remain in Murchester or take the
+train to some other place. It will be a hard matter to find her, as
+she has concealed her trail very successfully."
+
+"She might have left some evidence behind in the car," I suggested.
+
+Dredge shook his head. "I examined the car myself this morning," he
+remarked. "There is not a vestige to show that any woman occupied it.
+She has not left even so much as a pin behind."
+
+"Pardon me; she left a hat-pin!"
+
+"Yes," said the Inspector grimly, "in the heart of the unfortunate
+Mrs. Caldershaw. But your car is still in that field near Murchester,
+Mr. Vance, and I shall leave you to take it away. I don't know how
+much it is injured."
+
+"Last night you said that it wasn't much hurt," I said hastily.
+
+"Quite so, sir," said Dredge imperturbably. "But last night my
+examination was necessarily perfunctory, as I was in a hurry to reach
+the scene of the crime. This morning I examined the car more
+carefully, and I am not sufficiently an expert to see what damage has
+been done. Remember, it was driven violently through a wooden gate."
+
+"On purpose?" asked Cannington quickly.
+
+The Inspector cast a side glance at his fresh-coloured face. "I can't
+say, my lord. I think not. The woman, driving down the incline, nearly
+ran into Miss Destiny's trap. To avoid a complete collision, she may
+have turned the steering-wheel too completely round, and so probably
+dashed by mischance through the gate. Indeed, I think that is the true
+explanation."
+
+"Then, but for this accident," said Cannington pertinaciously, "she
+would have driven the car to Murchester."
+
+"I really can't offer an opinion on that point, my lord. We are
+working in the dark just now, and all I have said is mere theory
+founded upon circumstantial evidence. However, Mr. Vance," he turned
+to me, "you can go and see after your car, and tell me what you think
+That is," he glanced at his watch sharply, "after I have examined Miss
+Destiny. I am told by Giles that she knew Mrs. Caldershaw, and was
+coming here to pass the night."
+
+"You want me to be present?"
+
+"If you will so far oblige me."
+
+"I shall be delighted. I wish to hear of everything connected with
+this most interesting case. Do you mind if Lord Cannington is present
+also?"
+
+"Not at all," said Dredge graciously, and shuffled his notes, which
+were lying on the counter. "Miss Destiny will be here in a few
+minutes, and we can go into the back room where the crime was
+committed."
+
+"Where is the body?" asked Cannington abruptly.
+
+"It has been laid out in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Do you wish to
+view it, my lord?"
+
+"Oh, hang it, certainly not," gasped Cannington hastily, and with all
+the repugnance which the upper classes exhibit towards such morbid
+sights. "I was only asking, as I don't wish to sit in the room with a
+corpse."
+
+The Inspector threw open the door to display the back premises. "You
+see," he said, inviting us by a gesture to enter, "the body has been
+removed."
+
+In the grey daylight, for there was no sun to graciously soften
+crudities, the room looked forlorn and chill and lonely. Cannington
+stepped at my heels with a nervous shiver, for he was somewhat
+impressionable. I now noticed that there were two windows in the outer
+wall, which looked on to a kind of fenced clearing, sown with
+cabbages, potatoes and leeks. These jostled each other in a disorderly
+fashion, and the paths between the beds were so grass-grown that it
+was apparent but little interest had been taken in her garden by the
+late owner of the corner shop. The paling fence, unpainted and broken,
+which surrounded the oblong of the cultivated ground, seemed to push
+back the encircling elms, forming a small untidy wood behind. There
+was no gate in the fence, so the sole means of egress was through the
+shop. Between the windows was a door, leading into this dismal garden,
+standing cheek by jowl with a cumbersome chimney. The back door was
+locked. "We found it like that last night," exclaimed Dredge, now more
+communicative and less grim. "The odd thing is that the key is
+missing."
+
+"Perhaps Mrs. Caldershaw never went into her garden," I remarked. "It
+does not look inviting."
+
+"Oh, she must have gone out of that door sometimes," insisted the
+Inspector. "For there is a small shed filled with coals and wood
+outside; she must have replenished her fire occasionally, you know,
+Mr. Vance."
+
+"Well then, she probably had locked the door for the night, when she
+was murdered by this white-cloaked woman."
+
+"I daresay; but why should the key be missing?"
+
+Cannington made a suggestion. "The woman locked it when she escaped."
+
+"She escaped through the shop, after locking Mr. Vance in," retorted
+Dredge, "so why should she have troubled to steal the back-door key,
+which, on the face of it, she did not require?"
+
+"Huh," said the boy, "she seems to have a weakness for taking queer
+things, Mr. Inspector. Witness the glass eye."
+
+Dredge nodded. "I hear Miss Destiny knows something about that."
+
+At this moment, as if in answer to her name, the little old lady
+stepped daintily into the back room. She looked as shabby and frail as
+ever, but she undoubtedly was a gentlewoman, and her eyes still
+revealed a strong vitality. With a curtsey to me and to Cannington,
+she addressed herself graciously to Inspector Dredge.
+
+"My trap is at the door, sir, and I am anxious to return to my home at
+Burwain, since this poor woman I came to see is unfortunately dead."
+
+"Murdered," said Dredge laconically.
+
+Miss Destiny blinked with her wonderfully youthful eyes, and recoiled
+with a nervous gesture of her hand. "Murdered," she whispered, half to
+herself. "They did not tell me that."
+
+"Who did not tell you, ma'am?" demanded the Inspector brusquely.
+
+"Lucinda, my servant, Mr. Giles and his wife," she replied brokenly.
+"How was she murdered, sir?"
+
+"An ordinary hat-pin with a blue glass bead for a head was thrust into
+her heart, ma'am. She must have died immediately."
+
+"How dreadful. But why should she be murdered, poor soul?"
+
+"So far as I can gather, on account of her glass eye, which is
+missing. I should like to hear what you have to say on that point,
+ma'am?" and Dredge fixed his stern eyes inquisitively on the little
+old lady.
+
+Miss Destiny sat down quietly, and appeared to make an effort to
+recover her composure, which had been sorely shaken, and very
+naturally, by the news of the strange murder. "All I can say is, that
+Anne had a glass eye to which she appeared to attach a ridiculous
+value"--at this point I became aware that she was repeating word for
+word her speech of the previous night, and certain of it, when she
+continued. "Anne often declared that she would not lose it for a
+fortune. Now it is lost, and she is dead. Dear me!"
+
+"It has been stolen, and she has been murdered," corrected the
+Inspector smartly. "I should like to know why Mrs. Caldershaw attached
+such value to the eye?"
+
+"I can't tell you that, Mr. Inspector, because I do not know. Anne was
+always very close and kept her business to herself."
+
+"Who is the woman?" asked Dredge impatiently.
+
+"Who _was_ the woman, you mean, sir," corrected Miss Destiny smartly
+in her turn. "I can tell you that. She was my brother's housekeeper at
+Burwain for many years. When he died five years ago, more or less,"
+added Miss Destiny precisely, "she retired with her savings to this
+place, which was her native village, and here set up this shop."
+
+"Have you seen her since she came to live here?"
+
+"At intervals, sir. Anne was a valued old servant, whom I respected,
+and at times--say once a year, I came over to stay the night with
+her."
+
+"Had she any enemies?"
+
+"Not to my knowledge, sir."
+
+"Was she happy here?"
+
+"As happy as a grumbler like Anne could be. For there is no denying,
+poor soul, that she was a grumbler," ended the little old lady
+regretfully.
+
+"What was your brother's name, ma'am?" said Dredge, producing his
+note-book.
+
+"Gabriel Monk, sir. He was a bachelor, and lived at The Lodge,
+Burwain. I kept house for him with Anne as our servant until he died.
+Then Anne came here and I took a small cottage in the village, where I
+now am."
+
+"And The Lodge?" asked Dredge, somewhat irrelevantly I thought.
+
+"His brother, Walter Monk, inherited The Lodge and the money of his
+deceased relative. He lives there now with my niece."
+
+"Oh!" The inspector here saw a point which in my opinion he ought to
+have noticed before. "Then Gabriel Monk was not exactly your brother?"
+
+"I called him so, because I looked after his house for him, but he
+really was not, sir."
+
+"Your brother-in-law, then?"
+
+"Not even that, Mr. Inspector. Let me explain. My sister married
+Walter Monk, the brother of Gabriel, and became a widower with one
+child, a girl. Gabriel took Gertrude, the girl, to live with him, when
+she was a small child, and asked me to take charge of her. I did so,
+and therefore fell into the habit of calling Gabriel my brother; but,
+as you see, he was no relation. And pardon me, Mr. Inspector, but I do
+not see what all this private business has to do with the murder of
+Anne Caldershaw."
+
+Dredge snapped the elastic band on his closed pocket-book. "I wish to
+learn all I can about the dead woman's past," he said gruffly, "and so
+ask you to tell me all you know."
+
+"I have told you all I know," said Miss Destiny, rising. "And now may
+I take my departure, as I have a long way to drive?"
+
+Dredge nodded. "You may have to return for the inquest," he said
+abruptly, "and in any case, I shall come over to Burwain to ask
+questions."
+
+"By all means. Anyone will tell you where I live," said Miss Destiny
+with dignity, "and I trust that my expenses will be paid, should I be
+required as a witness at the inquest." Here I noted she again revealed
+a miserly tendency.
+
+"Oh, yes, that's all right," said Dredge, and Miss Destiny, again
+making her queer little curtsey to Cannington and myself, was about to
+depart, when I stopped her with a question.
+
+"Will you please tell me the name of this lady?" I asked, indicating
+the photograph in the silver frame.
+
+Miss Destiny's eyes were too keen to require glasses, and she
+recognised the face at once. "Dear me, it is a photograph of
+Gertrude."
+
+"Your niece?"
+
+"Certainly. Anne nursed her, you know, and Gertrude was always greatly
+attached to her. She will be distressed when she hears of this
+tragedy. Dear me, I never knew Gertrude had given Anne her portrait,
+and in such a very expensive frame. Waste! waste! But why do you ask
+about it, sir?"
+
+I coloured. "I thought the face was so lovely," was my reply, made in
+a low and somewhat awkward voice.
+
+Miss Destiny gave me a piercing glance, and nodded in a friendly
+manner, evidently amused by my embarrassment. "Gertrude is as good as
+she is beautiful," she said smiling. "Good-day, gentlemen," and she
+left the shop to mount the trap. Lucinda wrapped the rug carefully
+round her knees and the oddly assorted pair drove away.
+
+Meanwhile Cannington--who was always much too clever when dulness
+would have been more diplomatic--laughed meaningly, and whispered.
+
+"Adventures are to the adventurous," said Cannington wickedly.
+
+"So you said before, and the remark isn't original in any case," I
+answered tartly. "What you mean----"
+
+"Oh, of course," he chaffed softly. "I haven't got eyes in my head,
+and you're a Joseph where a pretty girl is concerned. And she is
+pretty"--he turned to look at my goddess--"she is----"
+
+"Oh, shut up!" I interrupted crossly. "Mr. Inspector, I am going to
+look after my motor car. And the inquest?"
+
+"Will be held in this house to-morrow at ten o'clock."
+
+This settled matters for the time being and I departed with the boy,
+who still chaffed me, like the silly young ass he was. "Old Vance in
+love. Ho, ho!" said this annoying boy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY
+
+
+On examination, the Rippler appeared to have suffered but trifling
+hurt. Either by accident, or design, the flying lady had driven the
+machine straight through an ancient five-barred gate, which
+fortunately was much too decayed to present any serious obstacle.
+Across a stubbled field--as the ripping and ploughing of the grounds
+showed--the car had reeled drunkenly, until by its own weight it was
+bogged in the friable furrows. Here it had been deserted, with smashed
+lamps, a slightly damaged front, and with a considerable amount of
+paint scraped off. But an immediate test showed that the machinery was
+in excellent working order.
+
+It was no easy task to restore the derelict to the hard levels of the
+high-road. But Cannington collected a gang of agriculturals from
+unknown quarters and we set to work. With spades and crowbars, broad
+weather-boards from an adjacent incomplete building as temporary
+tram-lines, and a tow-rope from Trent's machine to mine, we managed
+the job fairly expeditiously, considering the environment. With water
+from the nearest pond for the outside of the car, and oil and petrol
+for the interior, I managed to get the Rippler into working order,
+although she was more or less shaken, and did not run very smoothly.
+Fortunately the lady had abandoned her loot within half a mile of
+Murchester, so with careful driving I contrived to get over that
+distance in safety. After storing the Rippler in a convenient garage,
+to be repaired and overhauled, I went on to the Barracks with
+Cannington in Trent's motor. Here I proposed to put up until the
+inquest was at an end and I was free to leave the neighbourhood. It
+was rather a nuisance to be thus publicly housed, as one might put it,
+for everyone, from the Colonel to the latest-joined subaltern, asked
+questions and aired impossible theories. My intimate connection with
+the affair made me an object of interest to one and all. And small
+wonder that it should be so, for the mystery of the affair was most
+enthralling.
+
+On the way to his quarters, Cannington--perhaps to distract my
+thoughts from more immediate troubles--mentioned casually that
+Wentworth Marr had left a card for him at Mess, just before we had
+arrived on the day of the murder. I did not take any interest in Marr,
+as I had never seen him, so it was a matter of indifference to me
+whether he had called or not. But the boy fidgeted over the matter, as
+he made sure he was about to be asked a knotty question officially, as
+the head of the Wotton family.
+
+"I am certain that Marr wishes to know if I will agree to his marrying
+my sister," said Cannington irritably. "And I don't know what to say."
+
+"Refer him to the lady," I suggested absently.
+
+"I sha'nt. He's too old for Mabel, and I don't want her to marry him
+in any case. I wish Weston would come up to the scratch, for he told
+me that he loved Mabel, and I was quite pleased. Weston's no end of a
+good sort, and we--that is Mabel and I--have known him almost as long
+as we have you, Vance. Marr's all right, and deuced rich from all one
+hears. But I don't want such an old chap as a brother-in-law, for all
+his thousands of pounds."
+
+"Oh, very well then," said I ungraciously. "Tell him to keep off the
+grass, or you'll punch his head. Is he stopping at Murchester?"
+
+"I suppose so. His card has the Lion's Head--that's the best hotel
+here--pencilled on it. He called somewhere about three yesterday,
+before we arrived, and he said he'd turn up again. I expect to find
+him waiting for me now, and I'm hanged," lamented Cannington, "if I
+know what to say."
+
+But, as after events proved, the boy was worrying himself needlessly,
+for Wentworth Marr did not reappear at the Barracks. On inquiry, we
+learned that he stayed only the one night in Murchester, and then went
+back to London in his motor--for he also travelled in the latest
+vehicle of transit. I only mention these apparently trivial facts,
+because they form certain links in the chain of evidence which led up
+to the discovery of the amazing truth. Meanwhile, not foreseeing the
+importance of trifles, I was rather annoyed with Cannington for
+babbling. My mind was far too much taken up with the mystery of Mrs.
+Caldershaw's murder, and with--I must confess it--the face of Gertrude
+Monk, to permit me to think of Lady Mabel Wotton and her wooers,
+elderly or otherwise.
+
+Lady Mabel herself appeared a day or so later, and at an inopportune
+moment, for her brother and I were greatly fatigued with what had
+occurred during the interval. However, we returned from Mootley in
+my renovated Rippler on the third day, and found her waiting
+impatiently for afternoon tea in Cannington's quarters. She was a
+tall, fresh-coloured, dashing girl, amazingly like her brother, and if
+he had worn her tailor-made dress instead of his khaki, I do not think
+anyone, unless a very close observer, would have been the wiser. I had
+known the family for more years that I cared to remember, and liked
+Lady Mabel immensely, as she was outspoken and companionable, and did
+not want a man to be always telling her that she was a goddess. All
+the same, she could flirt when inclined, although she never did so
+with me. It could not have been my age, for I was younger than this
+confounded Marr she came to talk about; so I presume she looked upon
+me as Cannington's elder brother. At all events, our friendship was
+always prosaic and matter of fact.
+
+We had tea, while Lady Mabel presided and told us that she had just
+come down for an hour, and that she was very miserable, and that
+Cannington ought to have written her, and that she did not know what
+to do, though Cyrus--that was me--might give some advice and----
+
+"I never give advice," I interrupted hastily. "I'm not clever enough."
+
+"I never said you were," she retorted. "But you are slow and sure."
+
+"Thanks, Lady Mabel."
+
+"I think you're just horrid, and why you should be so stiff with me I
+don't know, seeing that you knew Cannington and myself since we could
+toddle."
+
+"Oh, come now, I'm not so old as all that."
+
+"You are, and ever so much older, you--you bachelor."
+
+"I can't help that, since you refuse to marry me," I said smiling.
+
+"You've never asked me to--not that I would accept you," she replied
+promptly. "All the same, you needn't call me Lady Mabel, as if you
+were keeping me off with a pitchfork."
+
+"Well, then--Mabel."
+
+"That's better." She gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You know
+that I look on you as a good sort, Cyrus, and the oldest friend we
+have."
+
+I wriggled. "Why do you emphasise age so much?"
+
+Cannington laughed, and I knew that he was thinking of my admiration
+of Miss Monk's photograph. "Vance doesn't like to be reminded of his
+age--now."
+
+"Why now?" questioned Lady Mabel suspiciously.
+
+"Oh, never mind," I said crossly. "What do you want my advice about?"
+
+Our fair companion put down her cup in despair. "Haven't I been
+telling you for the last half hour. Mr. Marr wants to marry me. He
+asked me four days ago, and then came down to enlist Cannington on his
+side."
+
+"Huh," said the boy, sagaciously, "that sounds as though you had
+refused him."
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"Then you accepted him."
+
+"No, I didn't," she said again. "I left it an open question, until I
+consulted you and Cyrus. After all he is rich, and not bad-looking."
+
+"Oh, Mabel," cried Cannington, rising to perambulate the narrow room,
+"you know very well that you love Dickey Weston."
+
+"What's the use of loving a man who won't speak his mind? Dickey
+always lives in the moon, and I only love him from habit.
+
+"You never loved me from habit," I remarked lazily.
+
+Mabel put her head on one side, and surveyed me critically. "No, I
+never did," she said candidly, "and yet you're better-looking than
+Dickey. But he's got a way with him--I don't know what it is."
+
+"Absent-mindedness," suggested Cannington. "May we smoke, Mab?"
+
+"Oh, yes, and you can give me a cigarette also, if they're Egyptian.
+Thanks awfully." She accepted one, and I struck a match for the
+lighting. "Of course, Dickey Weston is absent-minded and selfish," she
+continued frankly. "All the same, I love him and I don't mind anyone
+knowing it."
+
+"Every one does, except Dickey," said I with a shrug.
+
+"I suppose you think that's clever."
+
+"It's the truth. After all, I don't see why you need be shy with a man
+you have known for centuries. Why not go to Dickey and tell him that
+you want to marry him and go trips in his airship?"
+
+"Dickey would agree, and never know what had happened until he found
+me breakfasting opposite to him without a chaperon. Well, what's to be
+done?" She leaned back, and placed her hands behind her head. "Dickey
+won't ask me to be his wife, and Mr. Marr--who is rich--wants me to
+marry him right away."
+
+"Do you love Marr, Mabel?" asked Cannington seriously.
+
+"No," she said promptly.
+
+"Then refuse him."
+
+"He's too rich to refuse."
+
+"Mabel"--I spoke this time and severely--"you are much too nice a girl
+to make such a sordid match, and with a man who might be your father.
+Chuck him, and chuck it, and make Dickey Weston do his duty."
+
+"Which Dickey will be quite willing to do," said Cannington amiably,
+"especially as he told me that he loved you, Mab."
+
+"Oh," the girl jumped up and with a fine blush threw the half-finished
+cigarette into the fireplace. "Why didn't you tell me that before,
+Cannington? I know what I'll do." She reflected for three seconds.
+"I'll tell Mr. Marr that he shall have his answer as a Christmas box,
+and meanwhile I'll see if I can't make Dickey jealous. Cannington, you
+are sure that Dickey said what you say he said?"
+
+"Quite sure. He said it twice."
+
+"Then he must mean it," cried Mabel energetically. "So I can hold off
+Mr. Marr and make Dickey jealous by pretending to flirt with him.
+After all I love Dickey and Dickey loves me, so why shouldn't we
+marry?"
+
+"I am sure," said I cynically, "that if you put the position clearly
+to Weston in that way he would do his duty."
+
+"I don't want him to do his duty, just as if I was driving him to the
+altar," she said, much exasperated. "I wouldn't marry Dickey if I
+didn't love him, not if he were twice as rich."
+
+"What about Marr?"
+
+She wilfully chose to ignore my hint. "He can remain as a second
+string to my bow, Cyrus. After all I must marry money. Aunt
+Lucy"--this was Lady Denham, the late earl's sister--"is always
+grumbling about my dresses. And--and--and--oh, well, then, never mind,
+I must be getting back to town." She looked at her bracelet watch.
+"There's a theatre party and supper at the Ritz to-night, so I haven't
+much time.
+
+"And the situation?" asked Cannington, helping her on with her cloak.
+
+"I'll temporise and give Dickey a chance."
+
+"Which means that Marr will have none," I said gravely, "that's not
+fair."
+
+Mabel shrugged her shoulders, and made the truly feminine answer.
+"You're a man and don't understand. Oh," she stopped at the door
+suddenly, "by the way, Aunt Lucy told me that your name was in the
+papers, Cyrus, about some murder. I've just thought about it. Aren't
+you accused of sticking pins into some one? Tell me all about it on
+the way to the station; it will amuse me, you know."
+
+This refreshing candour made me laugh right out, as we descended the
+stairs. "I am glad that you have even an afterthought of my amusing
+position," said I, very drily.
+
+She had the grace to colour. "Oh, I didn't quite mean that, Cyrus; but
+after all, I can't think of everything at once."
+
+"Cannington did that, Mabel. He has been a brick, and but for his
+assistance I should never have pulled through."
+
+"What rot," muttered the boy, but he was secretly pleased.
+
+"Then you are in danger?" cried Mabel, startled.
+
+"I have been," I replied with emphasis, "as I discovered the body. But
+my own spotless reputation and Cannington's asseverations of my
+honesty, prevented my being arrested."
+
+"I'm so glad, Cyrus. Such a horrid thing for one's friend being
+arrested for a nasty pin-sticking crime."
+
+"Horrid indeed--for the friend."
+
+"Where did you hear of the murder, Mab?" questioned her brother.
+
+"Oh, the papers yesterday and this morning were full of it. Aunt Lucy
+drew my attention to them, as she knew that I knew you," said Mabel
+incoherently. "You were at the inquest, weren't you, Cyrus, and gave
+evidence? Tell me all about it, as I only read scraps."
+
+"There's very little to tell," I answered, yawning, for really I felt
+extremely tired. "I found Mrs. Caldershaw dead in the back room, and a
+woman in a white cloak, presumably her murderess, ran off with my
+motor car."
+
+"I read all that. What else?"
+
+"Nothing else, save that we found the car and not the woman. A jury of
+twelve good and lawful yokels brought in a verdict of murder against
+some person or persons unknown."
+
+"But I thought you said this woman was guilty?"
+
+"It is presumed so, since she bolted with my car and hasn't turned up.
+Her name is unknown, so the verdict is quite right."
+
+"But persons," persisted Lady Mabel inquisitively.
+
+"A mere graceful addition to round off the sentence. I believe that
+this woman stabbed Mrs. Caldershaw with a sapphire-headed hat-pin."
+
+"Sapphire-headed; she must have been rich."
+
+"Oh, Vance is drawing on his theatrical imagination," struck in
+Cannington impatiently, "the sapphire he talks of was only blue
+glass."
+
+"Oh, that reminds me that the papers said something about a glass
+eye."
+
+"I expect they said a very great deal about it," I assented gravely.
+"Catch your journalist missing a chance of hinting at mystery."
+
+"Is it a mystery?" asked Mabel, walking before us into the station.
+
+"More or less--possibly more. Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered by this
+unknown woman, presumably for the sake of her glass eye."
+
+"But why?"
+
+Cannington laughed. "That's what the police are trying to learn; not
+that they ever will. I believe the truth will never be discovered."
+
+"Are there no letters, no papers? Is there no gossip likely to----"
+
+I interrupted, impatiently, for the absence of circumstantial evidence
+bothered me greatly. "Inspector Dredge looked over all the papers and
+letters of the dead woman, and found nothing likely to lead to the
+discovery of the guilty person's name. As to gossip, it appears that
+Mrs. Caldershaw kept to herself in the corner shop, and little was
+known about her. She came to Mootley five years ago with her savings,
+having been the housekeeper of Gabriel Monk of Burwain, near
+Gattlingsands. There she started a shop, and at times received a visit
+from Miss Gertrude Monk, whom she nursed, and from Miss Destiny, who
+is the young lady's aunt."
+
+"Two women," breathed Mabel, facing me; "do you think----"
+
+"That either one is guilty?" I interrupted again and somewhat sharply.
+"No, I certainly do not. Miss Destiny was on her way to stay the night
+with Mrs. Caldershaw when the crime was committed; and at the inquest
+she stated that she left her niece behind at The Lodge, Burwain."
+
+"You needn't be so cross about it," said Mabel, staring at my acrid
+tone. "I only suggested possibilities. What are you laughing at,
+Cannington?"
+
+"Nothing," said the boy untruthfully, and looked hard at me. The fact
+of my admiration for Miss Monk's pictured face--we had discussed her
+several times before and after the inquest--was in his mind, as I well
+knew. But he had grace enough to keep this to himself, and not set
+Lady Mabel's too ready tongue chattering.
+
+"I wish you wouldn't giggle, Cannington," she said, accepting the
+excuse, "it's growing on you. Well," she faced me, "and what are you
+going to do?"
+
+"About what, if you please?"
+
+"About this murder?"
+
+"What the deuce should he do?" cried Cannington, openly surprised.
+"He's well out of an awkward situation, so there's no more to be said.
+I daresay he'll write a melodrama on the case and solve the mystery in
+the wrong way."
+
+"I am not so sure," said I pointedly, "that I won't try to solve it
+the right way."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" asked my friend, staring.
+
+"I mean that the mystery of Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye fascinates me,
+and that I intend to follow up what clues there are."
+
+"There aren't any," said Cannington promptly. "You heard what
+Inspector Dredge remarked at the inquest."
+
+"He admitted that he could find no evidence, it is true, but that
+doesn't mean to say that evidence is not to be found."
+
+"Are you about to turn an amateur detective?"
+
+"Why not? Now why are you laughing?"
+
+"Oh, he's crazy," said Mabel disdainfully. "Here comes my train. I'll
+have a rush to reach town and dress. Aunt Lucy is always so punctual,
+I'm sure to get into hot water."
+
+"Ask Mr. Wentworth Marr to get you out of it," said I jokingly.
+
+"He could," she replied seriously, leaning out of the carriage window.
+"Aunt Lucy thinks no end of him, and would be glad to see me his
+wife."
+
+"Don't you do anything in a hurry, Mabel,"--began Cannington, when his
+expostulations were cut short by the departure of the train. When the
+ruddy tail light of the guard's van disappeared, he took my arm with a
+friendly hug. "I didn't give you away, did I, Vance?"
+
+"There's nothing to give away," I said gruffly.
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" said Cannington, in three distinct keys. "What about
+love at first sight, old man? You intend to follow up this case, so as
+to get into touch with the original of that photograph."
+
+"Rubbish! You are jumping in the dark."
+
+"Don't you jump," advised the boy shrewdly. "Your fancy has evidently
+been caught by Miss Monk's face, and if you meet her, there's no
+telling but that you may be a married man before Christmas."
+
+I denied this hotly, and proceeded to show that my interest in the
+case was more or less official. "Mystery piques every man," said I
+insistently, "so I mean to learn why Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered, and
+why she attached such value to that glass eye of hers."
+
+Cannington laughed and declined to believe, but being a thoroughly
+good fellow, ceased to chaff me when he saw that I looked annoyed.
+"All the same," he remarked, as we strolled back to his quarters, "I
+shall keep an eye on you, Vance. You're too inflammable, and I don't
+want you to marry in haste and repent at leisure."
+
+Of course I laughed, uneasily maybe, for Cannington was right in the
+main. I certainly was anxious to solve the mystery, but I doubted if
+my zeal would have been equal to so arduous a task, had not the memory
+of that lovely face lured me onward, like a will-o'-the-wisp. I had
+long since wished to secure the photograph, so as to have the image of
+my divinity constantly before my eyes, but Dredge very reasonably
+declined to permit the illegal annexation. Mrs. Caldershaw's will,
+which had been found by the Inspector amongst her shop accounts, left
+all she died possessed of to her nephew, Joseph Striver. He proved on
+inquiry to be a Burwain gardener in the employment of Mr. Walter Monk.
+"If Striver will give, or sell you the portrait," said Dredge, with
+official phlegm, "I have no objection; it isn't my property."
+
+The police-officer was much too grim and unromantic to guess why I
+sought to possess the photograph, and needless to say, I did not tell
+him. Also he was considerably annoyed by his failure to solve the
+mystery of Mrs. Caldershaw's murder, since its solution would have
+procured him both praise and promotion. So no one but Cannington
+guessed my silly infatuation, which assuredly was silly, for who but
+an idiot would fall in love with a pictured face on the instant. But
+there was no denying it, that I was in the toils of Venus, so,
+although angered by such unaccountable weakness, I was bent upon
+meeting the original. Then,--ah, well, the future is on the knees of
+the gods.
+
+However, since I was minded to trace out the truth of the crime, it
+was necessary to find some clue to start the trail. All that evening
+after dinner, and later in the billiard-room, where I played snooker
+with sundry young officers, I inwardly wondered how I could and should
+begin. The hat-pin revealed nothing, as every woman uses hat-pins, and
+such with blue-glass heads were probably common enough. The missing
+eye might have thrown some light on the darkness, but that was safe in
+the pocket of the assassin. It will be noticed that, in spite of the
+open verdict of the jury, I clung to the idea that the white-cloaked
+woman was guilty. Not only had she fled with my car, but she had
+locked me in with her victim to prevent immediate pursuit. Also the
+abandonment of the motor pointed to guilt. She had been seen by Giles,
+by Miss Destiny, and by Lucinda, but from the time my machine had been
+sent crashing through the five-barred gate by her reckless, or
+intendedly reckless, driving, she had vanished as completely as though
+the earth had opened to swallow her up. Yet she might have guessed
+that the aggressively striking white cloak would betray her. In my
+opinion, a woman who had so cleverly engineered her escape would
+scarcely be foolish enough to risk detection by her dress, so I
+conjectured that she must have got rid of the cloak as she had got rid
+of the Rippler. With this idea in my head, I settled, without telling
+Cannington, to explore the field wherein the machine had been
+abandoned.
+
+When at rest for the night, I remembered that Mrs. Giles, who had not
+been called as a witness, had stated how Mrs. Caldershaw entertained
+the idea that she would not die in her bed. I had questioned the
+greengrocer's wife on this point, but she could tell me nothing more.
+Mrs. Caldershaw gave no hint of any enemy, or even of the possibility
+of a tragic death. All she had done was to make the above statement to
+Mrs. Giles in a burst of confidence, and to shiver when the Litany
+mentioned "murder and sudden death." Mrs. Giles was particular about
+this point. "I was sitting next to her in the same pew," said Mrs.
+Giles insistently, "and she shivered and shook and looked over her
+shoulder, apprehensive like. It happened three times, and that was
+what made me observe it. I'm sure she was frightened of something or
+of someone."
+
+This might have been the case, but Mrs. Caldershaw never explained,
+and carried the reason of her fright in silence to her untimely grave.
+Connecting Mrs. Giles' story with the remark of Miss Destiny as to the
+value set on the glass eye by the woman, and with the sinister fact
+that the glass eye was missing, I felt certain that the way to begin
+the search was to take the eye itself as a clue. Local gossip in
+Mootley revealed few useful facts, as Mrs. Faith appeared to be the
+sole person who had been told about the eye by its owner, and none of
+the villagers seemed to know that one eye had been different to the
+other. But in Burwain, where Mrs. Caldershaw had lived for years as
+Gabriel Monk's housekeeper, and as nurse to his niece, the truth might
+be found by careful inquiry. If I could learn where the unfortunate
+woman got her glass eye, and what accident had brought about the
+necessity for a glass eye, the chances were that I might learn
+something which would enable me to trace the truth. Therefore I
+determined to go to Burwain and hunt out all information about Mrs.
+Caldershaw's past. Meanwhile there remained the field near Murchester
+to be explored.
+
+Next morning Cannington was engaged on some court-martial so I was
+left to my own devices, although he wanted to hand me over for
+entertainment to a less busy brother officer. I excused myself on the
+plea that I wished to walk off a headache, and so contrived to leave
+the Barracks unhindered. It was nine o'clock when I set out, and the
+morning was wonderfully clear for misty August. The field, as I stated
+before, was only half a mile from Murchester, so I speedily arrived
+therein. I left the middle of it, where the Rippler had been stranded,
+severely alone, and skirted round the sides to examine the hedges.
+These were ragged and untrimmed, with deep ditches on their inner
+sides, and consisted of holly, bramble, hawthorn, and various
+saplings. I scratched myself more or less severely for quite one hour,
+but without discovering any sign of the white cloak. Perhaps, I
+thought, much discouraged, the woman had risked wearing it after all.
+Yet I could not believe that she had been such a fool, seeing how
+cleverly she had manipulated her escape.
+
+Then I noticed that there were two gates to the field, one with the
+broken bars, through which she had entered from the high-road in the
+car, and the other on the far side, to the right-hand looking from the
+road. It then occurred to me that the flying lady, scared by meeting
+Miss Destiny's trap, and perhaps afraid lest she had injured it and
+would be stopped for damages, might have left the field by this last
+gate. I immediately walked towards it and found that it opened on to a
+narrow lane, which in winter must have become a stream of mud. The
+hedges were very ragged and tangled here, and the gate was nearly
+hidden, a common five-barred, unpainted gate, in a worse condition
+than that opening on to the road.
+
+I knew that I had struck on the flying woman's trail, almost as soon
+as I arrived at this hidden gate. On one of the brambles a filmy scrap
+of gauze fluttered in the wind. Apparently while getting over the gate
+in her hurried flight, the woman's veil had caught in the thorns and
+she had twitched it irritably away, leaving the scrap unthinkingly
+behind as evidence. I secured the same and placed it in my pocket-book,
+then made a thorough examination of the gate on both sides. No further
+evidence was forthcoming until I searched the ditch, which in this
+instance was on the farther side of the hedge. There, hidden amongst
+the dank weeds, thrust into a convenient rabbit-hole in the crumbling
+clay bank, was the cloak itself. I drew it out with a sensation of
+triumph, and from it was wafted the torn veil. I had the outfit
+complete, save for the motoring cap.
+
+Evidently the rending of the veil had drawn the woman's attention to
+the eccentricity of a white cloak worn on a chilly autumnal evening.
+Acting promptly, as was her custom--I guessed that from the theft of
+my car--she had concealed cloak and veil, and then had vanished down
+the muddy lane, heaven only knows whither. But I had now the evidence.
+
+It was a white cloak, of good and even expensive material. Round the
+neck, down the front, and along the hem, two letters were embroidered
+repeatedly in blue silk so as to form a pattern. They were G. M. I
+dropped the cloak and gasped with dismay. G. M., in twisted fanciful
+letters, formed the running adornment of the cloak worn by the woman
+who had stolen my car and who had, to all appearances, murdered Mrs.
+Anne Caldershaw. And the name of the child she had nursed, of the
+woman with whose portrait I had fallen so unexpectedly in love, was
+Gertrude Monk.
+
+"It's a lie," I said aloud to nobody in particular. "I don't believe
+it."
+
+All the same, the accusing initials were there, G. M.--Gertrude Monk.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+MY RIVAL
+
+
+Had I not been in love--and with a face, instead of the flesh and
+blood woman--I suppose I would have gone off at once to Dredge to
+announce my discovery and show what I had found. But, in spite of
+evidence to the very strong contrary, I could not believe that
+Gertrude Monk was guilty of her old nurse's murder. She might have
+locked me in, she might have run off with my car and practically
+wrecked it, and she might have hidden in the hedge these incriminating
+garments: but she assuredly had not--in my now terribly biassed
+opinion--thrust the hat-pin into Mrs. Caldershaw's heart. Unless she
+confessed her guilt to my face, I resolutely declined to believe that
+she had perpetrated a sordid crime.
+
+However, it was useless to stand in that chilly field weighing pros
+and cons, when I knew nothing of the woman, save that she was
+exquisitely lovely, and had captured my fancy against my will, as it
+were. I had a natural revulsion of doubt; then believed in her more
+than ever, even to the extent of vowing, that if by chance she were
+guilty, she should never go to the scaffold through me. But if I
+wished to prevent that, there was no time to be lost in getting rid of
+that infernal cloak and veil, for Inspector Dredge with unexpected
+insight might come nosing about the field. Not that I credited him
+with such perspicuity, but--as I swiftly determined--it was just as
+well to be on the safe side. I therefore rolled up veil and cloak
+into as small a compass as possible, and thrusting them under my
+overcoat--I wore one as the morning was breezy--I regained the road
+and hastened my return to Murchester Barracks. I felt that I was
+compounding a crime one minute, and exulted the next that I was saving
+the life of an innocent woman. And yet, on the face of it, she was
+surely guilty.
+
+Luckily, when I arrived at Cannington's quarters he was still absent
+on duty, so I unpacked a portmanteau, which had been sent down from
+London, and stowed away the incriminating evidence at the bottom of
+some books, manuscripts, shirts, and pyjamas. Then I strapped and
+locked the portmanteau, so that Cannington's soldier servant should
+not officiously wish to pack my belongings. He could use the other
+portmanteau, I thought. Just as I completed my task, Cannington
+entered unbuckling his sword.
+
+"Ouf! I am tired," said he pitching himself into a chair. "What a bore
+it is sitting on court-martials."
+
+"What was the punishment?" I asked, lighting my pipe, and asked more
+for the sake of regaining my self-control, shaken by my discovery,
+than because I took any interest in Private Tommy Atkins.
+
+"Five days C. B. It was only a drunken fight. Throw me over the
+cigarettes, Vance. Thanks, awfully." He fielded the case deftly. "Wait
+till I change, and we'll go to luncheon. I'm shockingly hungry. Where
+have you been? Fighting with the Barracks cat I should say, from the
+scratches."
+
+But I did not intend to say too much even to Cannington. "I went for a
+cross-country walk," I answered carelessly, "and met some brambles on
+the way. What are you doing after luncheon?"
+
+"Well, I was just coming to that," said the boy, who was now busy
+changing his kit, smoking the while. "I have to run up to town for
+three or four hours, as my lawyer wants to see me. I'm trying to raise
+some cash for a Christmas spree." He grinned. "Hope you won't mind my
+leaving you. But there's Trent, of course, who can look after you."
+
+"Oh, hang it, I'm not a child to require a nurse," I snapped, for my
+nerves were worn thin with the situation. "You leave me alone,
+Cannington, and I'll attend to myself."
+
+"All right old son, don't get your hair off. I believe this murder
+case has got on your nerves."
+
+"It has," I confessed, very truthfully. "Sorry I spoke like a
+fractious brat. To make amends I'll let you take the Rippler to town."
+
+"Oh, that will be frabjious," said Cannington, who had lately been
+reading, "Alice through the Looking-glass." "Won't you come too?"
+
+"Thanks, no. I'm walking out to Mootley this afternoon."
+
+"Huh! I should think you had enough of walking. What's on?"
+
+"Mrs. Caldershaw's funeral."
+
+"They aren't losing much time in planting her," said Cannington, with
+a shrug. "It's only five days since the death. But I say, old son,
+don't you think you might give this business a rest? It's getting on
+your nerves, you know, and isn't good goods at the best."
+
+"Oh, that's all right, I only want to see the last of the poor woman."
+
+"And then?" Cannington's tone was highly suspicious.
+
+"I'll go over to Burwain."
+
+"After that girl?"
+
+I scratched my chin and eyed him severely. "See here, I'm not quite
+the infant you take me to be. Miss Monk's face attracted me, I admit,
+but that doesn't mean I am in love with her."
+
+"You talked enough about her anyhow."
+
+"All the more reason that _you_ shouldn't talk," I retorted. "I can
+say all I want to say for myself. Do stop rotting."
+
+Cannington nodded with an air of resignation. "I shan't say another
+word, Vance. Didn't think you were in earnest."
+
+"I am in earnest about searching out this mystery, if that is what you
+mean, and I go over to Burwain to-morrow to make a start."
+
+"With Miss Monk?"
+
+"Yes," I replied, feeling qualmish. "She was Mrs. Caldershaw's
+nursling, and may be able to throw some light on that glass eye. I
+feel convinced that therein lies the solution of the mystery."
+
+"The worst of you literary men," said Cannington, addressing the
+ceiling, "is that you talk too much like a book. Touched wood! touched
+wood!" He fled for the door, as I swung up a chair cushion. "Don't
+disarrange my hair, but come along to luncheon."
+
+I obeyed. "But don't tell anyone that I am going to Mootley," said I
+hastily.
+
+"Right oh. I'll take the Rippler and light out for town at two
+o'clock. I shall meet you at dinner, and then you can tell me all
+about the funeral."
+
+So it was arranged, and we made a very good meal. At least the boy
+did, being unworried with secret disagreeables; but I did not eat much
+myself. The knowledge of what was hidden in my second portmanteau lay
+heavily on my mind, and I fear I betrayed my discomfort, for
+Cannington remarked it. It occurred to me that a murderer would have
+to possess amazing nerve to conduct himself as an ordinary human
+being, seeing that I, with no crime on my mind, was so easily
+discomfited. . . . Of course, under the circumstances, I should have
+thought of a guilty "she" rather than of a guilty "he"; but I really
+could not bring myself to believe that Diana of the Ephesians had
+murdered her old nurse.
+
+Cannington did not waste the Rippler on himself. He invited a cheery
+subaltern to join him, and the two boys went off in the highest
+spirits, with his lordship spanchelled between the seat and the wheel.
+I resisted a kindly-meant invitation of Trent to play stickey, and
+turned my face in the direction of Mootley, thankful to be by myself.
+During the few miles to that village I had ample to think about, and
+could not help wondering at the strange whirl of circumstances which
+had gathered round me during the last week. I had come out to seek an
+adventure and had found one with a vengeance. How it would end I could
+not tell.
+
+The sun came out during the afternoon, so I found the walk--but for
+disturbing thoughts--extremely pleasant. On passing the field, I
+congratulated myself that I had emptied it of its incriminating
+contents. Whatever inquiries Dredge made, on the face of it he could
+learn nothing, as I alone possessed a tangible clue. And as that clue,
+so far, led to Miss Gertrude Monk, and a thorough explanation would
+have to be forthcoming before it could go past her, it was just as
+well for her own peace of mind, and mine also, that she should give it
+to a friendly-disposed inquirer. Thinking of this, and wondering how
+she would explain her flight from the corner shop in my motor car, I
+drew near the outskirts of Mootley. The famous shop, which had
+appeared in several illustrated daily papers, was closed, so I did not
+pause but went on. Directly round the corner I met Mr. Sam Giles, the
+ex-greengrocer, who greeted me in a most friendly manner.
+
+"You're just too late, sir!" said he, touching his hat, and quite
+ready to give all information, "she's planted."
+
+"Mrs. Caldershaw?"
+
+"Yes, sir. It was quite a pretty funeral, with plenty of mourners and
+wreaths for the coffin. We made a holiday of it this morning, and I
+don't think, sir, that there's much doing this afternoon, as the
+excitement was too great." I could not help smiling, in spite of the
+gravity of my errand, at the idea of the villagers extracting pleasure
+from such a dismal affair as the funeral of a murdered woman. But
+Giles apparently had the morbid love of his class for such things, and
+went on supplying information in high spirits.
+
+"A heap of gentlemen of the press came from London," he said
+importantly, "and they photographed the grave. What with motor cars
+and bicycles and traps and carts, the place was like a fair. It will
+advertise Mootley a lot, and I shouldn't wonder if land went up in
+value hereabouts."
+
+I nodded. "Mrs. Caldershaw has been quite a benefactress to the
+village, Mr. Giles. By the way, did Miss Monk and Miss Destiny appear
+at the funeral?"
+
+"No, sir, and none of Mrs. Caldershaw's Burwain friends came to see
+the last of her, poor soul, which was unkind, I take it. Only Mr.
+Striver put in an appearance. But to be sure he could not do less,"
+added Giles thoughtfully, "since she left him all her property."
+
+"Striver! Striver! That's the nephew?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Vance, and a handsome young man he is. A gardener, I
+believe, who works for Mr. Walter Monk at Burwain. Not that he'll do
+much work now, for I daresay his aunt has left him enough to live like
+a gentleman. Her lawyer--he's a Murchester man in a small way of
+business--told me that there was over five hundred pounds in the bank;
+besides there's the lease of the shop for two years and its contents."
+
+"Lucky Mr. Striver, and it's all left to him," I bantered.
+
+"Yes, sir, along with the glass eye."
+
+I had set my face towards the village, but wheeled at the last word.
+"Why the dickens did she leave him the glass eye?"
+
+"Goodness only knows, Mr. Vance, but leave it she did. Mr. Striver's
+quite annoyed he hasn't got it and intends to offer a reward for it."
+
+"He'll have to find the guilty person first," I said grimly.
+
+"The white-cloaked lady, sir?"
+
+I winced. "She may not be the guilty person, after all. There! there!"
+I went on hastily, as Giles showed a disposition to argue. "I know
+nothing more about the matter than you do"--this was an absolutely
+necessary white lie considering the circumstances--"but tell me, Mr.
+Giles, does this young man know why his aunt valued her glass eye so
+greatly?"
+
+"No, sir. He told me that he couldn't guess why it was left to him. He
+is all on fire to find out, and that is why he intends to offer the
+reward. At present he's in the shop looking over things."
+
+"Does he intend to give up his gardening and turn shopkeeper?" I
+asked.
+
+"I don't know, sir; nothing has been settled. But he returns to
+Burwain--so he told me--this evening. I'm going to Murchester myself,
+sir, on an errand for the wife, so if you will excuse me----"
+
+"One moment, Giles. Has anything fresh been discovered?"
+
+"No, sir; and you mark my words, sir, nothing more ever will be
+discovered. The woman in the white cloak has vanished entirely, glass
+eye and all. You are taking an interest in the case, Mr. Vance."
+
+"Can you wonder at it, seeing how I am mixed up in the business. I
+want to solve the mystery if I can, out of sheer curiosity. Here's my
+address, Mr. Giles," I hastily scribbled it on a card, "and if you
+hear of anything new, let me know at once."
+
+Giles took the pasteboard, and promised faithfully to keep his ears
+and eyes open and his mind on the alert. Then he moved away down the
+road to Murchester, with a parting advice that I should inspect the
+grave. "It's a pretty grave," said Giles cheerfully, "with a lovely
+view!"
+
+But I did not go to look at the grave, or at the view, which the
+corpse--I presume--was supposed by Giles to appreciate, for it struck
+me that Striver being in the corner shop it would be an excellent
+opportunity for me to gain possession of the photograph. I therefore
+turned back, and in a few minutes was knocking smartly at the closed
+door. Shortly it was thrown open, and on the threshold appeared one of
+the handsomest young men I had ever seen. There were signs of good
+breeding about him also, and in his navy-blue serge, with a tweed cap
+and brown boots--rather an odd dress for a funeral, I thought--he
+looked less like a gardener and more like a smart city clerk. And yet
+in his bearing there was a smack of the West-End.
+
+Mr. Joseph Striver was moderately tall and perfectly made--slim in
+figure, with the alert poise of an athlete. His hands and feet
+certainly betrayed the plebeian, but no one could deny the beauty of
+his clean-shaven face. I say "beauty" advisedly, although it is an odd
+adjective to apply to a man. It was a Greek face and a Greek head,
+clean-cut and virile, of the fair, golden Saxon type, yet more
+intellectual than the same generally is. A fashionable lady might have
+envied his transparent complexion, his blue eyes, and the curve of his
+lips. His form also was irreproachable, and his small head, set
+proudly on the white column of his throat, possessed a snake-like
+grace. On the whole, Mrs. Caldershaw's heir was a singularly handsome
+young fellow, and with her small fortune added to his personal
+advantages would be certain to succeed in life. It seemed quite a pity
+that so splendid a youth should be a mere gardener. Yet the employment
+is eminently respectable, since Father Adam originally took up the
+profession.
+
+He looked inquiringly at me, so I opened the conversation. "My name is
+Vance, Mr. Striver, and----"
+
+"Oh," he interrupted, in a very pleasant and somewhat cultured voice.
+"You are the gentleman who gave evidence at the inquest. Come in
+please." He stepped aside to let me past. "I am very glad to see you,
+as I wish to ask you some questions."
+
+I proceeded him into the shop, while he closed the door. "I said all I
+had to say at the inquest," I answered quickly.
+
+"I read all about it in the papers, Mr. Vance."
+
+"You did not come to the inquest then?"
+
+"No, you might have guessed that, seeing you were present. I only
+came over to the funeral, when I heard that my aunt had left me her
+money--not in very appropriate clothes, I fear, though; but I had no
+time to get an outfit, you see. Now I am looking into things."
+
+We were in the back room by this time, and a heap of letters and
+papers lay untidily on the floor. Miss Monk's photograph still smiled
+from the mantelpiece, and I stole a glance at it, which left me more
+enthralled than ever. "You won't mind my going on with my sorting,"
+said Striver, placing a chair for me, and dropping on his knees; "but
+I want to get things straight before dark, as I have to return to
+Burwain for a few days."
+
+He was so amazingly cheerful, that I could not help saying so. He
+looked up smiling. "You can't expect a poor man who has come in for
+money to be miserable," said Striver, with much truth. "Besides my
+aunt never did care for me, and I was quite surprised to learn that I
+was her heir. Had we been at all attached to one another I should have
+come to the inquest, and even before, seeing she met with so dreadful
+a death. But there wasn't much love lost between us, Mr. Vance, so
+only as her heir did I come to the funeral. I can't pretend to feel
+very sorry."
+
+"That sounds rather heartless, seeing how you have benefited by her
+death."
+
+Striver shrugged. "I daresay; but I never was a hypocrite. Put
+yourself in my place. If a disagreeable old woman left you the money
+she could no longer use, would you break your heart?"
+
+I laughed. "No, I can't say that I would."
+
+"Very well, then," he reiterated coolly, "put yourself in my place.
+I'm sorry, of course, as I would be for any human being who was
+murdered. Otherwise," he shrugged again, "well, there's no more to be
+said."
+
+There came a pause. "I believe you hinted that you wished to ask me
+some questions?"
+
+Striver straightened himself. "Well, yes. Have you any idea who
+murdered my unfortunate aunt?"
+
+"Not in the least."
+
+"What about the lady in the white cloak?"
+
+"Appearances are against her. All the same, she may be innocent."
+
+The young man's blue eyes flashed like sapphires. "I doubt that; else
+why should she run off with your motor car and lock you in?"
+
+"Well," I drawled, not very sure of my ground, "she may have found
+your aunt dead, and in a fright----"
+
+"Oh, that won't wash," he interrupted in a somewhat common way. "You
+swore at the inquest, that you were attracted into this room by a
+groan from my aunt, in which case she could not have been dead when
+this lady went up the stairs."
+
+"That is true," I admitted, "but I don't hold a brief for the escaped
+lady, remember."
+
+"You speak as though you did," he retorted and went on with his
+sorting. "Has anything been heard of her?"
+
+"Nothing. I found my motor car in the field; but the lady has
+vanished."
+
+"Don't you think," Striver raised himself up to ask this question,
+"that she could be traced by means of that white cloak?"
+
+I shrugged in my turn and fenced, as I was not going to admit the
+truth. "I daresay the cloak was noticeable enough. All the same, she
+has _not_ been traced. Now, she never will be. I should not be
+surprised if the police gave up the case."
+
+The young man rose quickly. "No," he said promptly, "I intend to offer
+a reward."
+
+"Ah! You wish to have this lady hanged."
+
+"If she is guilty, why not?" he asked bluntly, "But if you will have
+the truth, Mr. Vance, I don't care either one way or the other about a
+possible hanging. I want to find the glass eye."
+
+"And you think the lady has it?"
+
+"I--I--I suppose so," he muttered in a hesitating manner, then burst
+out: "Yes, indeed, I _do_ want to find the glass eye. There's a
+fortune connected with it, Mr. Vance--a large fortune."
+
+"Oh!" I could not help betraying surprise. "So this was why Mrs.
+Caldershaw attached such value to it?"
+
+"Exactly. In some way--I don't exactly know how--that eye reveals the
+whereabouts of the fortune I speak of."
+
+"Humph. Do you mean to say that Mrs. Caldershaw concealed her money
+and concealed its whereabouts in her glass eye?"
+
+"Yes, I do, in a way. That is, this fortune does not consist of my
+aunt's savings. I have those and the shop also. But when she lived at
+Burwain, she talked of a large fortune--some fifty thousand pounds,
+she mentioned on one occasion--which was concealed somewhere."
+
+"Whose fortune was it?"
+
+"I can't say. But my father, her brother--he's dead now--was always
+bothering her about the money. She never would tell him anything, but
+said that when she died he could learn all he wanted to know from the
+glass eye. As my father has passed over, of course the glass eye along
+with the money comes to me,--the fortune also. Fifty thousand pounds!"
+He raised his arms with an ecstatic expression. "What couldn't I do
+with such a heap of coin, Mr. Vance. Why I could marry----" He halted,
+cast an uneasy look on me, and again began to sort the letters.
+
+"Oh, you're in love," I said smiling.
+
+"A man of my age is always in love," he remarked curtly. "But never
+mind about that, I want to find some clue to the glass eye," and he
+tossed over the papers feverishly.
+
+"To its whereabouts?"
+
+"No, I know that much. The person who murdered my aunt has the eye,
+and killed her for the sake of learning the secret. But my aunt may
+have left some letter, or paper, or description, saying _how_ the eye
+can reveal the whereabouts of the fifty thousand pounds. Can you
+imagine," he sat back on his hams, "how the eye can be the clue?"
+
+"No," I said, after a pause, "unless there is a piece of paper hidden
+in it."
+
+"Oh, that's impossible. Do you know what a glass eye is like?"
+
+"Well, no, I have never seen one, unless fixed in a person's head."
+
+Striver laughed. "I had the same idea about a piece of paper," he
+explained carefully, "and went to an optician in Tarhaven to examine
+an eye. I suppose you think--as I did--that an artificial eye is the
+shape and size and the fatness of an almond."
+
+"Something like that," I admitted, "with the paper enclosed within."
+
+Striver laughed again. "It's shaped exactly like a small sea-shell:
+simply a curve of thin glass, convex and concave, and fits into the
+socket like a--a--what shall I say?--like a cupping-glass."
+
+"Humph! In that case, it would be impossible to conceal a piece of
+paper behind it without damage."
+
+"Of course, taking also into consideration the smallness of the eye.
+The only thing I can think of," he added, half to himself, "is that
+there is a plan or some writing on the back part, which reveals the
+whereabouts of this money."
+
+"But there's no space to write in," I objected, considerably
+interested.
+
+"Why not. Writing done with a magnifying-glass, you know. I have seen
+the Lord's Prayer written on a sixpence."
+
+I nodded. "There may be something in what you say," I admitted, "and,
+as it appears that Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered for the sake of the
+eye, it must have some value. Perhaps," I added with a brilliant
+afterthought, "she hid a diamond behind it."
+
+"It would have to be a very large diamond to bring in fifty thousand
+pounds," said Striver, seriously. "No, I believe that the eye is
+simply a clue to this treasure."
+
+"Treasure?"
+
+"Well, money, jewels, gold, bank-notes, what not. All I know is that
+my aunt certainly mentioned fifty thousand pounds to my father."
+
+"Why didn't she secure the treasure herself?"
+
+"Perhaps she did and has buried it somewhere. Well, never mind," he
+turned over the papers again, "come what may, I must find the eye."
+
+"You won't find it there," I said, rising to take my leave, and with
+one eye on Miss Monk's photograph. "Better get the police to trace the
+white-cloaked lady, since you believe she has taken it."
+
+"I don't see who else could have committed the murder and have stolen
+the glass eye," said Striver decisively. "In one way or another, she
+must be found, somehow."
+
+"And then----?"
+
+"Then she must deliver up the glass eye."
+
+"And be hanged."
+
+"I don't want to go so far as that," he muttered nervously. "Of
+course, she is a woman."
+
+"And being so, is clever enough not to be caught. I daresay she will
+learn the secret of Mrs. Caldershaw, procure the fortune, and bolt to
+America." I moved towards the door, and Striver straightened himself
+to show me out. Then with an apparent afterthought I drew his
+attention to the smiling face of Miss Monk. "I admire that," said I,
+pointing.
+
+The effect was somewhat unexpected. "Why?" he asked roughly, and
+flushed scarlet through his fair skin, looking more handsome than
+ever.
+
+"Why?" I stared at him in surprise. "Why not? you should ask. It is a
+very lovely face, and I admire it as a work of art."
+
+"Oh, as a work of art. That's all right," he retorted quickly, "but it
+happens to be the photograph of a real person."
+
+"Miss Gertrude Monk."
+
+"How do you know that?" demanded the young man, again flushing
+angrily.
+
+"Miss Destiny told me that the photograph was one of her niece. I
+suppose, Mr. Striver, you would not mind my buying it."
+
+"I'll see you hanged first," he retorted vehemently, and clenched his
+fists. "What is Miss Monk to you?"
+
+"I have never met her, Mr. Striver, so calm yourself. But you display
+such heat at my apparently simple question, that I must ask, what is
+she to you?"
+
+Striver stared at me and his eyes were as hard as a piece of jade. "I
+love her," he said defiantly.
+
+I was taken aback by this statement, and flushed in my turn, making
+the not very polite reply, "Nonsense!"
+
+"And why nonsense," shouted Striver, who had by this time completely
+lost his temper, "how dare you say that? Even though I am a gardener I
+have the feelings of a human being."
+
+"But your difference in rank," I exclaimed hotly.
+
+"Love levels all ranks."
+
+"Indeed. Then I take it that Miss Monk favors your suit?"
+
+"Mind your own business, Mr. Vance."
+
+"I intend to make it my business," I snapped, now as angry as he was,
+for it did seem ridiculous that this Claud Melnotte, handsome as he
+was, should aspire to the apple on the topmost bough.
+
+"You're talking damned rot and damned insolence. If you have never
+seen Miss Monk, you can't possibly be in love with her," he raged
+furiously.
+
+"I said nothing about love. But that photograph took my fancy, and I
+wish to buy it if possible."
+
+Striver snatched the photograph, silver frame and all, off the
+mantelpiece to cram it roughly into his pocket. "There," he cried
+vehemently, "that's all you'll ever see of it."
+
+"Then I must seek out the original," said I, walking into the shop.
+
+He was after me in a moment. "If you dare to come interfering," he
+growled in a voice thick with passion, "I'll break your neck."
+
+"That is easier said than done," I jeered, now being content that the
+young man was my rival and a dangerous one at that. "Let me pass."
+
+Striver paused irresolutely, then did as he was asked. I left the shop
+leisurely, and glanced back when some distance down the road. Mr.
+Joseph Striver drew the photograph out of his pocket and insolently
+kissed it, apparently to intimate that I was odd man out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+A FRIEND IN NEED
+
+
+I returned to Murchester, rather annoyed to find that I had a rival,
+even though he was but a gardener. There was no denying that the
+fellow was uncommonly handsome, and thus might captivate the
+affections of a woman above him in stations. As I have said before, I
+can lay no claim to good looks, so if Miss Monk was a young lady whose
+heart was in her eye, as the saying goes, I stood rather a poor
+chance. Certainly Striver, while professing that he loved her, had not
+ventured to say that there was any response to his daring. Still, for
+all I knew, the romance might be a reversal of King Cophetua and the
+beggar-maid, in which not unlikely case, a journey to Burwain would
+certainly destroy my peace of mind. If I loved the picture of the
+goddess, how much more would I love the goddess herself, when she
+became flesh and blood to my hungry eyes. When searching for an
+adventure, I had not counted upon this entanglement.
+
+However, on reflection, I did not see why I should not stand as good a
+chance as the gardener. He assuredly was better-looking and younger,
+possessing a certain amount of money, if not a man of any exalted
+rank. I was a gentleman, in the prime of life, and well on the way to
+make a comfortable income, if not exactly a fortune. Also I possessed
+a recognised position as a rising dramatist, and I had a large circle
+of pleasant, well-to-do friends to whom I could introduce my wife. So
+I made up my mind to stick to my guns, or in other words, to see Miss
+Monk, and learn how the land lay. Of course if she loved young
+Striver, there was nothing more to be said; but if she did not, and
+the love was all on his part, I could then try my luck. And at this
+point I recalled the memory of that infernal glass eye.
+
+If good looks did not tempt the lady, fifty thousand pounds might do
+so, and should Striver become possessed of the glass eye he stood a
+remarkably good chance of securing that fortune. So far we were equal,
+for I knew as much about the case as he did. Nay, I knew more, since I
+had found the famous cloak with the initial embroidery. I wondered
+whether it would be better to tell Miss Monk nothing about my
+discovery, or dare the utmost, and show her that she was in my power.
+She certainly was, as the mere production of the cloak would result in
+her arrest. With regard to possession of the goddess, I was therefore
+in a stronger position that Mr. Striver, and yet I did not see how I
+could make use of the weapon I had in my hand. A man could not very
+well force a lady to marry him because he could hang her if she did
+not. Moreover she might be able to exonerate herself completely,
+although I did not see how, and then would scornfully refuse to have
+anything more to do with--let me put it plainly--such a blackmailing
+ruffian.
+
+No! Come what might, I decided to play the game fair. Not only that,
+but I decided to use my information, as best I could, to protect Miss
+Monk from the gardener. In making inquiries, he might possibly chance
+upon a clue which would reveal the fact that Miss Monk was the heroine
+of the missing motor car. In that case, it might be that he would use
+his knowledge to insist upon the unequal marriage. I could then
+intervene,--I did not see very plainly at the moment to what
+purpose,--but at any rate I could offer myself as the lady's champion.
+But then--here was the crux of the matter--for all I knew Miss Monk
+might be as much in love with Striver as he apparently was with her.
+Only a visit to Burwain and a personal interview with my goddess would
+prove the truth of that.
+
+Then another thing occurred to me while I slowly dressed for dinner.
+If Miss Monk had stolen the motor car and had locked me in the back
+room along with the dead Mrs. Caldershaw, she must necessarily be the
+possessor of the glass eye. On the face of it, she appeared to be
+guilty, but I could not bring myself to condemn her. Yet she could
+scarcely have the glass eye unless she had murdered her old nurse with
+that damned hat-pin, which was so grave a proof that the assassin was
+a woman. But the eye was the clue to some concealed treasure--this
+appeared to be plain enough from what Striver had said of his late
+aunt's babble--so if Miss Monk became unexpectedly wealthy, it would
+prove that she was a thief, if not a murderess. It seemed to be that
+there was nothing to be done but to take up my abode in Burwain, meet
+the lady if possible, and then play a waiting game. Whether Mr.
+Striver or his master's daughter got the fifty thousand pounds, her
+guilt would be manifest, since he could only get the glass eye from
+her, to learn the clue to the treasure. And if she had the glass eye,
+she must have----
+
+"No no! no!" I said aloud at this point, and startled Cannington's
+servant, who was valeting me. "It's nothing, Johnston," I said, and
+went on mentally with my defence of Miss Monk, although I could not
+deduce a single particle of evidence in her favor. "She can't be
+guilty," my thoughts ran furiously, "she is much too lovely to be
+guilty. There must be some mistake. She undoubtedly will be able to
+explain. And yet--and yet--oh, hang it, I'll not decide the question
+either one way or the other until I see her."
+
+This being settled so far--although I unsettled my mind again and
+again through the long night--I went to mess and made a pretence of
+eating. Cannington and his friend had not yet returned, which made me
+believe that the two featherheads had smashed my car. If so it was a
+great nuisance, as I wanted the Rippler to drive over to Burwain on
+the morrow. However, the two arrived about midnight with a long
+account of a police trap which had detained them, and I went off to
+bed, leaving them to their supper. Cannington came to my bedside to
+relate his London adventures, but I used such bad language that he
+retreated promptly. Next morning I departed immediately after
+breakfast, more puzzled than ever over the problem I was setting out
+to solve. Had Miss Monk the glass eye? If so, was she guilty? If she
+had not the glass eye, who had? Did she love Joseph Striver? Would he
+find the glass eye, and consequently the fortune? If he did, would he
+marry Miss Monk, etc. etc. etc.: my brain was an absolute chaos.
+
+"Well, good-bye, old chap," said Cannington, taking leave, and looking
+very spic and span in his uniform. "Tell me all about it in London."
+
+"Tell you what?"
+
+"I may not mention her name," he said, and winked solemnly.
+
+"Don't be an ass," I retorted, leaning down to whisper, "things are
+much more serious than you guess."
+
+"What? Have you learned anything about--"
+
+"Shut up! When I return from Burwain to town I may need your
+assistance."
+
+"Right oh," said Cannington, looking grave, for he saw I was in deadly
+earnest.
+
+"And don't tell anyone where I am going."
+
+"No. You're supposed to be on your way to London. But, I say----"
+
+"Oh, I can't stop to chatter. Hold your tongue and wait until I see
+you again, boy. Understand?"
+
+"Yes, that is----"
+
+He would have detained me for I had, very cruelly perhaps, raised his
+curiosity immensely. But I gave the steering-wheel a twist, and the
+machinery being in motion, glided away before he could ask further
+questions. I glanced back to see him shake his fist at me, and then
+spun rapidly through the gritty square of the Barracks, down the road,
+into the street, and finally emerged through a steep lane into the
+country proper. A long smooth Roman road without twists or turns lay
+before me, and as there was no policeman in sight I let the Rippler go
+up to her full speed of forty miles an hour. The motion somewhat
+relieved my mind, which was considerably worried. I wondered if I was
+held up for exceeding the speed limit, and if my second portmanteau
+was examined, what the police would say. I knew very well what they
+would do, that is, lodge me in the nearest jail as an accomplice of
+the lady in the white cloak. Fortunately the luck held, and I got
+through safely.
+
+I can't say that my drive was over-pleasant, as the rain came on, just
+after I left Murchester and it poured steadily throughout the day.
+Then as the wheels would not bite in particularly soaked and slippery
+places, the car skidded considerably; also the gear jammed on two
+occasions, and once I ran short of petrol. Never was there such a
+series of accidents, and my temper was none of the best when I struck
+Tarhaven. Here I halted for luncheon, and went to the post-office to
+see if any letters awaited me. I found only one from my agent, but as
+that contained two weeks' fees for my new melodrama it proved to be
+most acceptable. A visit to the haberdasher's took up some of my time,
+and it was late in the afternoon when I turned the Rippler in the
+direction of Burwain. However, the distance from Tarhaven was but a
+short one, and I soon slowed down before the one hotel of the village.
+I call it an hotel, but it was really a tumbledown inn, quaint,
+old-fashioned, and comfortable, with a robin red-breast for its sign.
+
+Burwain is an isolated little place, lying low in a hollow depression
+of the land, some distance from the sea. On its outskirts the road ran
+through levels of stunted shrubs not big enough to be called trees,
+and there were also tall hedges, which muffled the village as though
+it were wrapped in cotton-wool. By reason of this the place is stuffy,
+and the air seems to be twice breathed. The streets stretch to the
+four quarters in the form of a crooked cross, and there was a
+tolerably wide green in the centre, which is faced by the Robin
+Redbreast Inn. I pulled up, and jumped out to meet the landlady in the
+passage and receive a great surprise.
+
+"Cuckoo!" I said, halting in much astonishment. "Well, I'm blest."
+
+"Mrs. Gilfin now, Master Cyrus," said the old lady, as amazed as I
+was. "Well, well to think that you of all gentlemen should come here."
+
+"It's fate," said I, for I knew that from Mrs. Gilfin, if anyone, I
+could obtain all necessary news, unless she had changed her gossiping
+habits, which I did not think at all likely.
+
+Still exclaiming at our unexpected meeting, Mrs. Gilfin led the way to
+a small sitting-room, and we faced one another to talk over the past.
+Mrs. Gilfin had been my mother's cook when I was a schoolboy, and then
+we had been the greatest of friends. As a child I had always called
+her Cuckoo, from some dim association with her employment, and many a
+time had I been indebted to her for tit-bits. When the home was broken
+up she had vanished into the unknown, but now reappeared in the
+character of a married woman and the landlady, of this old-world inn.
+She was a fat little woman, with a pudding-face, who wore spectacles,
+behind which sharp little pig's eyes twinkled knowingly. In old days
+she had always been a great talker, and did not seemed to have changed
+in this respect: a cause of rejoicing to me, since I hoped to learn
+all I could about Miss Monk and her dead nurse.
+
+"What brought you to Burwain, Master Cyrus?" asked Mrs. Gilfin, when
+we had complimented each other on the gentle way in which time had
+dealt with our looks.
+
+I had already arranged what to say, as, if I wanted Mrs. Gilfin's
+assistance, it was necessary to take her, in some degree, into my
+confidence. Moreover, I knew of old that she was a very worthy and
+silent--when it suited her--woman. "Love brings me here, Cuckoo," I
+replied, "and love will keep me here for at least a week, if not
+longer. So give me a sitting-room and a bedroom and recall the special
+dishes I like. Don't ask questions just yet. I shall tell you all when
+I have had dinner, but just now I am much too hungry to talk. Have you
+been long here?" I asked, contradicting my last assertion.
+
+"Ten years, Master Cyrus. First as cook, and afterwards as mistress.
+My husband had this inn from his father, but was letting it go to
+wreck and ruin when I arrived, owing to his being fat. So he married
+me, so that I could look after it. I would only stay when I saw the
+wedding-ring."
+
+"Owing to his being fat?" I questioned, rather puzzled.
+
+"Come Master Cyrus and see?" said Mrs. Gilfin, and led me into a
+low-ceiling bar of the Dickens epoch, all white-wash and smoky oaken
+beams. Here I beheld a pre-historic ingle-nook in which was placed a
+capacious armchair, and in it was seated the fattest man I had ever
+set eyes on. He smoked a churchwarden pipe and drank beer from a huge
+tankard placed on a small table beside him. "This is my husband," said
+Mrs. Gilfin and introduced me.
+
+Mr. Gilfin, who smoked with his eyes closed, opened them sleepily!
+"Glad to see you sir. I hope you'll be comfortable. The missus will
+look after you. It's fine weather for this time of the year, although
+I ain't been out to see!" and having made these original remarks, he
+closed his eyes again and pulled at his pipe, a large mass of adipose,
+contented and purely animal.
+
+"He doesn't talk much," explained Mrs. Gilfin, beaming through her
+spectacles on her Daniel Lambert, "but folk come for miles to see his
+size. He don't go out of doors either, Master Cyrus, but sits there
+smoking and eating and drinking so as to keep himself in good
+condition to be a draw."
+
+"To be a draw?" I echoed, while Mr. Gilfin blinked drowsily.
+
+"Customers come to look at him, and wish they were like him, Master
+Cyrus. I look after things, but John is the attraction. The Burly
+Beast of Burwain they call him, and though it ain't polite, it makes
+people curious to call. And you can see, Master Cyrus," added Mrs.
+Gilfin, as she left her husband to his pipe and beer, "how the inn,
+with such a man, was going to wreck and ruin. It was a good job he
+married me, not but what I'm thankful to be the mistress of the Robin
+Redbreast. It's poor work being a cook at my age, and under mistresses
+who don't know their place ain't in the kitchen. Your poor dear ma,
+now, Master Cyrus, always stopped in the doring-room, as a lady
+should."
+
+I assented, as there was little use in arguing with Mrs. Gilfin,
+who--as I knew of old--always had an answer to the most pertinent
+objections. Although not so fat as her spouse, she was still very
+stout, and her looks, along with those of John, said a good deal for
+the style of living obtainable at the inn. I engaged the sitting-room
+in which we had our first conversation and a bedroom immediately over
+head. Then I had my traps taken into the house, and having stowed away
+the Rippler in a convenient outhouse, sat down to besiege Burwain in
+due form. After dinner--and a very good dinner it was too--I told Mrs.
+Gilfin as much as I thought necessary, which did not include any
+reference to the discovery of the cloak.
+
+"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Gilfin, who had frequently raised her fat
+hands at intervals, during my narrative, "to think of the young
+gentleman, who was so fond of my custards, being in love, and with
+Miss Gertrude, of all young ladies. Well, she's the beauty of the
+world, and no mistake, Master Cyrus."
+
+"So I thought from the photograph, Cuckoo. By the way, did you not
+know this poor woman who was murdered?"
+
+"Do I know the nose on my face?" asked Mrs. Gilfin, severely. "Of
+course I knew her well, when she was housekeeper to Mr. Miser Monk."
+
+"Miser Monk--you mean Gabriel Monk?"
+
+"No I don't, Master Cyrus, if you'll excuse me for contradicting you.
+Gabriel he was christened, I daresay, but Miser he was called by them
+who knew how he hoarded up money."
+
+"He was a genuine miser then?"
+
+"Genuine." Mrs. Gilfin's fat hands flew up, and her pigs' eyes
+twinkled, "he would skin a flea for its hide and squeeze blood out of
+a stone, and take the trousers off a Highlandman, Master Cyrus. A
+nasty stooping lean old man, with a black-velvet skull-cap and a stick
+and a suit of clothes you wouldn't have picked up off the dung-hill.
+Of good family too," added Mrs. Gilfin, nodding, until her cap-ribbons
+quivered. "The Monks are an old Essex family, who used to own Burwain
+and all the land from Gattlingsands to Tarhaven. But they came down in
+the world, and only The Lodge remained to Mr. Miser Monk, as his
+father was a spendthrift, and scattered everything. But the miser
+invested what was left, Master Cyrus, and I believe had an income of
+five hundred golden pounds a year, although he never spent a penny of
+it. He never repaired The Lodge, or attended to the garden, or gave a
+farthing to the poor, but saved and saved. As he lived for eighty
+years, Master Cyrus, you may guess that his savings came to a pretty
+penny. He died five years ago, when Anne Caldershaw took her savings
+and herself to live at Mootley."
+
+"What became of his money?" I asked, anxiously.
+
+"Ask me something I know, Master Cyrus? The Lodge and the few acres
+round it and the five hundred a year, which was so tied up that it
+couldn't be touched, went to Mr. Walter Monk. Miss Destiny didn't like
+that, though why she should have expected to be remembered in the
+will, when she was only Mr. Miser Monk's brother's sister-in-law, I
+can't make out."
+
+"She lived with Mr. Monk, didn't she?"
+
+Mrs. Gilfin nodded. "For years and years, and so got into his misery
+habits."
+
+"Ah," said I, recalling certain traits of the little old lady at
+Mootley, "so I should imagine. Miss Monk lived with her uncle also, it
+seems."
+
+Mrs. Gilfin nodded again. "Mr. Miser Monk loved his niece: she was the
+only person he ever loved. Mr. Walter Monk was always away, as he is
+now, and being a widower, there was no one to look after the child.
+Mr. Miser Monk took Miss Gertrude to live with him, when she was quite
+a baby, and asked Miss Destiny to come to him also. Anne looked after
+the house, and the four lived together in that tumbledown old place
+like rats in a cheese. If Miss Gertrude hadn't gone for years to a
+boarding-school at Hampstead and got good food there, she never would
+have grown into the handsome young lady she is."
+
+"Ah," I exclaimed, greatly interested, "then she is handsome?"
+
+"As paint, Master Cyrus, and the sweetest young lady you ever met.
+Takes after her pa, she does, who is nice enough, though he's selfish
+I don't deny."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Why," said Mrs. Gilfin, casting about in her mind for an explanation,
+"he's hardly ever at home, being always in London, on business he
+says, though I think he's too lazy to do much, especially," added Mrs.
+Gilfin with emphasis, "as he has five hundred a year sure. But he only
+comes down here once in a blue moon, as you might say, and leaves that
+poor young lady to live the life of a nun at The Lodge along with one
+servant to do all the housework."
+
+"Why doesn't Miss Destiny continue to live with her niece?" I asked.
+
+"Ah!" Mrs. Gilfin nodded vigorously, "she'd be glad to do so, as being
+a miser like the late Mr. Gabriel Monk, it would save her living
+expenses. But the fact is, Master Cyrus, that Miss Destiny don't like
+Miss Gertrude, and Miss Gertrude don't like Miss Destiny: nor does Mr.
+Walter Monk, for the matter of that. The five hundred a year being
+left to him is a sore point with Miss Destiny, so she cleared out when
+Mr. Miser Monk died, and now lives at the end of the village in a
+small cottage along with that half-mad creature, Lucinda Tyke, she
+picked up in the Rochford workhouse, and don't pay no wages to."
+
+I was playing with the poker as Mrs. Gilfin spoke. "Then I take it
+that Mr. Walter Monk has five hundred a year, and no more?"
+
+"Except The Lodge and the three or four acres round about, Master
+Cyrus. He spends most of the money on himself too, and Miss Gertrude
+has enough to do to make both ends meet, though from her looks she
+should be a queen and sit on a throne."
+
+"But if the late Mr. Gabriel Monk was a miser, what became of his
+savings?"
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Gilfin, significantly, "now you're growing hot, Master
+Cyrus, as the children say. The will left the money and the property
+to Mr. Walter Monk, and the savings--he didn't mention the amount--to
+Miss Gertrude with her uncle's dear love. But search as they might,
+they could not find out where the money was hidden. And as Mr. Miser
+Monk saved nearly five hundred a year for eighty years more or less,
+he must have hidden away a heap of gold. Forty thousand pounds I
+daresay," ended Mrs. Gilfin with relish.
+
+"Or fifty thousand," I mused, recalling the sum mentioned by the
+gardener, and beginning to see light. "Have they searched everywhere?"
+
+"Everywhere," echoed Mrs. Gilfin, nodding again. "Miss Gertrude's an
+innocent, who believes that her pa's an angel, which he ain't, though
+nice enough in his ways. She'd give him her head if he asked her and
+never complains of him keeping her short and being always away
+spending his five hundred a year. He knew if he found his brother's
+savings--forty thousand pounds, I'm certain," added Mrs. Gilfin
+decidedly, "that, though lawfully Miss Gertrude's, she'd hand them
+over to him. So he turned the house upside down, and even dug up the
+garden, to say nothing of searching the meadows. He wanted the
+spending of the money, you see, Master Cyrus. But they couldn't find
+even as much as a shilling. What's become of all the money, no one
+knows, unless Mr. Miser Monk gambled and lost. He certainly went up to
+London every now and then," mused the landlady, "and them old men
+can't be trusted any more than the young ones, saving your presence,
+Master Cyrus, But there it is, sir," she spread out her pudgy hands
+and shrugged her fat shoulders, "plenty of money, belonging to that
+poor young lady hidden away, and she with scarcely enough to dress on,
+let alone keep the bread in her mouth, though to be sure she hasn't
+got to pay rent, and her pa gives the servant her wages regular. Ah,"
+Mrs. Gilfin sighed, "and such a beauty. I wonder she ain't been
+married ages ago."
+
+"Does her father love her?"
+
+"Yes and no. He loves her when she don't cross his path, and thinks
+her a bother when she do. Some times he takes her to London for a
+treat, being free with his money, when he spends it on himself. He got
+her picture taken by a swell photographer once, but I daresay that was
+to show her to one of his rich friends and get her married off well,
+so that he could live on his son-in-law."
+
+"That must have been one of the photographs I saw on the mantlepiece
+in the Mootley corner shop," I exclaimed.
+
+"Like enough, Master Cyrus. And I daresay her pa gave her the silver
+frame when he was feeling generous-like, as he do on occasions.
+Queer," said Mrs. Gilfin rubbing her nose, "one brother a miser, and
+the other taking after his father is a spendthrift. Luckily the five
+hundred a year's so tied up that he can't get at the principal, and it
+comes to Miss Gertrude when her pa joins Mr. Miser Monk in the
+graveyard. So she's all right, the dear sweet young lady she is."
+
+"Have you ever seen the photograph, Cuckoo?"
+
+"Oh yes, Master Cyrus. Mr. Joseph Striver's got one. Begged it off
+her, and she being an angel gave it to him, though he's only the
+gardener."
+
+"Does she love him?" I asked tremulously.
+
+"No, she don't," said Mrs. Gilfin shortly.
+
+"Does he love her?" I persisted.
+
+"He do: the impertinence! him only being a gardener, though handsome,
+I will say. Mr. Walter Monk don't pay him much for gardening at The
+Lodge, yet he stays on there because he loves Miss Gertrude, as if
+she'd look on such dirt as Anne Caldershaw's nephew. His father left
+him with fifty pounds a year so that's why he can afford to stop on,
+and now I hear he's come in for money from his aunt. But if he dares
+to raise his eyes to Miss Gertrude, Master Cyrus, you break his neck,"
+advised Mrs. Gilfin.
+
+"But if she loves him----"
+
+"How can she, when he ain't a gentleman born," snapped Mrs. Gilfin,
+"she don't love anybody but a dog she have, and lives in that shabby
+old house like a nun in a convent, or a toad in a stone. Where the
+young men's eyes are I don't know," ended Mrs. Gilfin, virtuously
+indignant.
+
+My spirits rose as she spoke. "I'm glad she's fancy free," I said,
+rejoicingly, "there's a chance for me then?"
+
+"You being well-looking, I should think so, Master Cyrus," said Mrs.
+Gilfin.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+THE BEAUTY OF THE WORLD
+
+
+I usually invent my plots, arrange my business and consider my
+circumstances when in bed, which is by far the best place for such
+thought-work. Alone in the darkness of the silent hours, there is no
+external influence to prevent concentration, therefore conclusions of
+the best can be reached speedier than in the daytime. On the night of
+my arrival at Burwain, I took advantage of the opportunity to think
+hard and long. It was necessary that matters should be adjusted
+clearly in my own mind before I could hope to deal with the situation.
+After Mrs. Gilfin's report, I desired more than ever to make Gertrude
+Monk my wife, but there were obstacles in the way, which only
+deliberate and continuous action could remove. A clear understanding
+of the position was decidedly imperative.
+
+I now began to see that Anne Caldershaw's hint to her brother had
+reference to the missing monies of Gabriel Monk. Certainly, even if he
+had saved every penny of his income for eighty years, he would not
+have accumulated fifty thousand pounds: but it was more than probable
+that his visits to London were connected with various investments, and
+that in one way or another he had gained the fortune mentioned by Mrs.
+Caldershaw. But--as I asked myself frequently--if Monk had invested
+the money, why was it not discoverable, since investments cannot very
+well be concealed. On reflection I decided that the man being a
+genuine miser, loving the color and weight and feel of gold, had
+probably turned his investments, whatever they might be, into hard
+cash, and had hidden this carefully away. In some way Mrs. Caldershaw
+had learned the whereabouts of the specie, and the missing eye
+indicated the hiding-place. The money, by Gabriel Monk's will,
+belonged to Gertrude Monk, but the ex-housekeeper wished her nephew to
+get it, and so had left him the clue to the place where it was
+concealed. Perhaps she knew that Striver loved her young mistress, and
+thought that if he married her, after acquiring the fortune, that
+justice would be done. She wished, as the saying is, to kill two birds
+with one stone.
+
+But two things puzzled me greatly in connection with the matter. In
+the first place it was odd that Mrs. Caldershaw, aware of the
+whereabouts of the money, should not have laid hands on it, and in the
+second it was difficult to understand how she could arrange that her
+glass eye should be a clue to its possession. Then I began to believe
+that the dead woman had removed the coin from where the miser had
+hidden it, and had drawn a plan of its new resting-place, which she
+had concealed behind the eye. But having regard to the shell-like
+shape of the eye, as described by Joseph Striver, the plan could not
+be delineated on a piece of paper however small, as there was no
+shield at the back of the artificial eyes to protect it from wear and
+tear. The plan, I fancied, as did Mr. Striver, was drawn on the inward
+curve of the eye itself, although it was difficult to imagine that the
+details had not been obliterated by the moisture of the flesh. But
+this last conjecture was for the moment beside the matter. What I knew
+was that Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye indicated the whereabouts of
+fifty thousand pounds belonging by will to Gertrude Monk. To find that
+treasure and marry the girl was what I determined to do. And to manage
+this, it was necessary to prevent the fortune from falling into
+Striver's hands, by getting the glass eye into my own possession. That
+was no easy task, on account of the obscurity which involved the
+murder and the theft which had led to the murder.
+
+Of course Gertrude Monk knew that she was legally entitled to her
+uncle's money, so it was possible, that having learned Mrs.
+Caldershaw's secret, she had gone to Mootley to insist upon the eye
+being given up, for the purpose of obtaining her rights. But in that
+case, she would scarcely have murdered the woman, since all she had to
+do was to compel Mrs. Caldershaw by law to confess the truth. It might
+be that she had quarrelled with the old woman, who would not be
+inclined to disarrange her plans for the well-being of her nephew; but
+I did not think that a girl with so lovely a face and so high a
+character--as Mrs. Gilfin avouched for--would have stooped to
+committing a crime. Had she done so and had obtained the money, her
+conscience would not permit her to rest. Therefore I acquitted the
+young lady of homicide, and cast about in my mind to think, who could
+possibly have slain Mrs. Caldershaw for the sake of the fortune.
+
+Miss Destiny certainly grudged her niece the money, and being a miser
+would have been glad to acquire it, but she was too frail a little
+woman to commit the murder. Also, at the time, she was driving to
+Mootley, and had not yet reached the place, as the story of her
+encounter with my looted motor car clearly proved. She had established
+an indefeasible alibi. Mr. Walter Monk was in London at the time of
+the murder: Mr. Joseph Striver was at Burwain, and I could think of no
+other person who would be driven to murder Mrs. Caldershaw for her
+secret. The more I thought of the matter the more complex did it
+become. All I could do--I decided this about three o'clock in the
+morning--was to revert to my original decision and play a waiting
+game. Then I fell asleep and woke at nine o'clock with a headache, the
+result of over-thinking.
+
+However, a cold bath, a good breakfast, and a half-hour's gossip with
+the landlady banished my pains, and somewhere about eleven I walked
+forth to spy out the land. I wished to call on Miss Destiny, and
+through her, to gain an introduction to her niece. Once in touch with
+Miss Monk, I might learn in some cautious way, how her cloak came to
+be in the field. Certainly on the fact of it, I fancied she had worn
+it herself and had stolen my Rippler, but it was just possible that
+she had given it to Mrs. Caldershaw, and had not been near Mootley at
+all. In which case, I, began to wonder more than ever, who was the
+clever woman who had taken possession of it. But such wondering was
+futile, as I had no certain facts to go upon. Gertrude Monk alone
+could give the clue, seeing that the cloak, whether worn by herself or
+not, was her property.
+
+There was little difficulty in finding the abode of Miss Destiny who
+appeared to be as well-known in Burwain as St. Paul's Cathedral is in
+the metropolis. Her miserly character appeared to be common talk, and
+when I reached the end of the village and sighted her cottage I could
+well understand why it was no secret. A gentlewoman with a certain
+amount of money, however small, would never have dwelt in such a
+hovel, unless she grudged every farthing to render it sightly and
+comfortable. For Miss Destiny had her abode in a tiny house of
+galvanized tin, standing some distance from the main road, and almost
+hidden by a dank growth of tall weeds, and shrubs and neglected trees.
+A sod fence fringed the roadway, and therein was placed midway a
+rickety wooden gate with a broken hinge. From this a crooked pathway
+made by feet and worn by feet and preserved as an entrance by feet,
+meandered to the green-painted front door. On either side docks and
+darnells and brambles and coarse grasses and weeds flourished in
+profusion breast-high. And overhanging the tin shed--it could scarcely
+be called a cottage--were two gigantic elms, which dropped their
+decayed branches on the roof and round the walls, where they lay to
+add to the sordid confusion of the place. Viewing this desolation, I
+could only think of the chateau of the Yellow Dwarf, as described by
+Madame D'Aulnoy.
+
+I walked up the sodden path--the tin shed seemed to have been built in
+a swamp, so oozy was the ground--and rapped smartly at the narrow
+front door. On either side were two small windows, through the glass
+of which I caught a glimpse of iron bars, which proved that Miss
+Destiny had made necessary provision against burglars. What struck me
+as odd was the absence of a chimney, but I had no time to consider
+this, for shortly I heard the rattle of a chain and the sound of bolts
+being drawn back. Then the door was opened an inch or two to reveal
+the dull eyes and mustached lip of Lucinda. The expression of her face
+was aggressive and watchful.
+
+"What do you want?" she demanded in her beautiful voice, which struck
+me anew as singularly sympathetic despite her rough greeting.
+
+"I am Mr. Cyrus Vance, who was at Mootley," I explained elaborately,
+"and I wish to see Miss Destiny."
+
+Before I ended my request I heard a little, low, fluttering laugh, and
+Lucinda, opening the door widely, moved aside to show the tiny figure
+of her mistress with outstretched hands. "Prince Charming come in
+search of the Sleeping Beauty," cried Miss Destiny, romantically, "and
+all because he saw a portrait of the lady. Come in, Mr. Vance, come
+in. I can promise you flesh and blood this time, my dear adventurer."
+
+There was little change about the old lady. She still wore the
+threadbare black silk dress, though without the velvet mantle, and
+her snow-white hair was still piled up after the fashion of Louis
+XVI's ill-fated queen.
+
+I thrilled when I heard her words, as I guessed that I had arrived in
+a happy moment, and that Miss Destiny's niece, the goddess of my
+dreams, was seated within that pauper house. Even Lucinda grinned in a
+friendly way, as she saw the color come and go in my face. With all my
+self-control I could not suppress that sign of emotion.
+
+"Prince Charming," said Miss Destiny, introducing me directly into a
+bare sitting-room, for there was no passage in the cottage, "yet me
+present you to The Sleeping Beauty," and she looked more like a fairy
+godmother than ever as she clapped her skinny hands.
+
+Gertrude Monk was seated in a well-worn horsehair armchair, near the
+oil stove which did duty as a fireplace to warm the bleak room. She
+was plainly dressed in blue serge, with a toque of the same on her
+dark head, and had a muff and boa of silver-fox fur. Nothing could
+have been more Puritanic than her array, but the close-fitting frock
+showed off her fine figure to advantage, and she looked uncommonly
+handsome. I have already described her from her photograph, so there
+is no need to go over old ground, but she was even more beautiful and
+unapproachable than I had believed her to be, and looked more like the
+goddess Diana than ever. The sole thing I found lacking to complete
+her perfection was color, for her face was the hue of old ivory, and
+even her lips looked pale. Also there was a troubled look in her large
+dark eyes, and she welcomed me with some embarrassment. But this last
+probably was due to the oddity of our introduction, since Miss Destiny
+had evidently informed her of my admiration for her portrait.
+
+"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Vance," she said sedately and with a
+stately bow of her head, "my aunt informed me of your connection with
+the sad death of my old nurse."
+
+"I think my connection with the matter is public property, Miss Monk,"
+I said, nervously, "for my name has been in all the papers."
+
+"As a playwright that should please you," she said coldly, "anything
+for an advertisement. Well, tell us what has been discovered?"
+
+"Nothing as far as I know, Miss Monk."
+
+"Oh!" she raised her fine eyebrows. "I understood," she glanced at
+Miss Destiny, "that you promised to come and inform my aunt of any new
+developments. As you are here, I thought that something had been
+discovered."
+
+"Nothing has been discovered, Miss Monk. I simply came here to see an
+old servant of my mother's, who keeps The Robin Redbreast, and intend
+to stay for a few days." Of course this was a white lie, but I had to
+make some excuse, for her troubled eyes were searching my face
+intently.
+
+"Mrs. Gilfin," said she, a smile relaxing the corners of her mouth and
+heaving what I took to be a sigh of relief, "I am fond of Mrs.
+Gilfin."
+
+"And she is fond of you, Miss Monk. Had she never spoken to you about
+me?"
+
+"No," was the reply, so my artful question, failed in its effect. Then
+the conversation languished, and Miss Destiny babbled to excuse her
+lack of hospitality. Lucinda had left the room.
+
+"I should give you a cup of tea, Gertrude, and you also, Mr. Vance.
+But the kettle is not boiling, and the baker has not come, so you must
+excuse me."
+
+"I am not hungry, thank you, Miss Destiny. What a comfortable little
+place you have here."
+
+In my desperate desire to propitiate the little woman, I told a lie,
+and Miss Monk saw that I did, for her lip curled, so contemptuously,
+that the color came to my cheeks. I had been undiplomatic, for the
+word I had used did not apply in the least to the bare surroundings.
+The shed--it had originally been a shed, as I afterwards learned--was
+divided by frail partitions into four small rooms: two bedrooms, a
+kitchen, and a parlor. These were furnished with the flotsam and
+jetsam of auction rooms, in an insufficient manner. If Miss Destiny
+had contracted the vice of avarice from the late Gabriel Monk, she
+had done so very thoroughly. The bare wooden walls, the drugget on
+the floor, the four or five sticks of shaky furniture, and the
+evil-smelling oil stove, made up a picture of insistent penury. And
+Miss Destiny, lean-faced, keen-eyed and restless, looked like the hag
+Poverty herself, as she hovered about the bleak room. And even she saw
+through my lying remark.
+
+"Comfortable, no indeed, Mr. Vance," she tittered nervously, "comfort,
+to my mind, means laziness and self-indulgence. Lucinda and I live the
+simple life, and require only the bare necessities of civilization.
+And I'm so poor----"
+
+Her niece intervened coldly. "Is it necessary to inform Mr. Vance of
+your private business, aunt?"
+
+"Oh, my dear, he knows it. For instance, that I am your aunt only by
+courtesy."
+
+"What do you mean? You are my mother's sister."
+
+"Yes. Poor dear Jane; what a bad marriage she made with that
+spendthrift."
+
+"Aunt! aunt! Leave my father alone."
+
+"My dear, I refuse to be contradicted. I never liked Walter, and I
+never will, so I disassociate myself from him in every way, as a
+sister-in-law, and look upon myself as your aunt by courtesy: merely
+by courtesy."
+
+Miss Monk rose with a flush. "This conversation cannot be interesting
+to Mr. Vance," she said, quietly. "If you have any business with him,
+I shall leave you together."
+
+"No, no, I have no business with him, my dear. Merely I should like to
+know if Anne's will really leaves all her property to Joseph."
+
+"If you mean Mr. Striver, I understand that he had got the money and
+the lease of the corner shop to say nothing of the contents," said I,
+in detail.
+
+"Merely I should like to know if Anne's will really did think Anne
+would have remembered me. We were such friends. And with a little
+money I could have made myself more comfortable. The garden for
+instance: I'm sure I live in a kind of jungle. Gertrude, I wish you
+could let Joseph come and put it right. Then we could talk about his
+good fortune."
+
+"Joseph takes odd jobs at times," said Miss Monk, trying to speak
+calmly, for really her aunt was very trying with her unnecessary
+frankness, "if you offer him a good wage, he will come with pleasure."
+
+"Oh, I can't afford to pay money," said Miss Destiny hurriedly, "it is
+not to be expected, especially since Gabriel left me nothing. Ah!
+Gertrude, you are the lucky one. Fifty thousand pounds," Miss Destiny
+smacked her lips, "oh, if it only could be found.'
+
+"It is not likely to be found."
+
+"Mr. Striver intends to find it," I said incautiously, and could have
+bitten out my tongue the moment afterwards for so crude a remark.
+
+Both the women turned to face me: Miss Destiny with vulture-like
+eagerness, and Miss Monk with an expression of astonishment. "What has
+Joseph to do with my money?" asked the latter, pointedly.
+
+"Perhaps he doesn't know that it is your money, Miss Monk."
+
+"What do you mean, exactly?"
+
+"Simply that Striver is searching for the sum of fifty-thousand
+pounds. That being the amount of some money belonging to you which is
+missing, as Miss Destiny said just now, I apprehend that it is the
+same."
+
+"It must be: it must be," cried the little old lady clapping her
+skinny hands, "for Anne never could have saved so much out of her
+wages. Gertrude I always declared that Anne knew where the money of
+Gabriel was hidden. Now, it seems, she told Joseph about it."
+
+"She did not inform him of its whereabouts," I struck in, eager to
+enlist Miss Monk's attention, "but he hopes to trace it by means of
+the glass eye."
+
+"The glass eye," echoed Miss Monk, very much amazed. "I know that Anne
+had a glass eye, and that it is missing. But----"
+
+"I see: I understand," said Miss Destiny feverishly, "don't interrupt
+me, Gertrude, for I see it all. Anne always attached a great value to
+that glass eye, so in some way--from what Mr. Vance says--it is
+connected with the hiding-place of Gabriel's money. Perhaps Gabriel
+got Anne to assist him in hiding it. Dear me, and the eye is missing.
+If it could only be found, Gertrude, you would be quite an heiress."
+
+"I don't believe that the eye or the money will ever be found," said
+Miss Monk impatiently, and walked towards the door. "Are you returning
+to the village, Mr. Vance?"
+
+The hint was unmistakable, and I was only too glad to take advantage
+of it, since it meant a _tête-à-fête_ with my goddess. "Mrs. Gilfin
+will wonder what has become of me," I said, glancing at my watch.
+
+"Oh, don't go, don't go," implored Miss Destiny, grasping my arm. "I
+do so want to learn all about this glass eye and the money."
+
+"Ask Joseph Striver then," I replied, disengaging myself, "he knows
+all that I know, and more," I ended significantly.
+
+"Really and truly. Oh, I must tell Lucinda," and Miss Destiny vanished
+into the back room crying for her handmaid. Miss Monk seized the
+opportunity to open the front door and slip out, raising her eyebrows
+at me meanwhile. I took the hint at once.
+
+We walked down the meandering path between the weeds, and out on to
+the high road. Miss Monk kept silence for some distance, but I was so
+taken up with admiring her face, and was so delighted to be in her
+presence, that I did not mind her lack of speech. With compressed lips
+she stared straight in front of her, then spoke abruptly.
+
+"You seem to know a great deal about our family affairs, Mr. Vance."
+
+"Nothing more than has to do with the murder of Mrs. Caldershaw," I
+replied, quietly, "and I am so mixed up in that----"
+
+"Yes! yes!" she interrupted impatiently. "I understand so far. But my
+aunt has been talking to you."
+
+"Well, yes and no. I have not gathered much information from Miss
+Destiny."
+
+"Why should you wish to gather any information at all?" asked the girl
+with some sharpness.
+
+"My dear young lady. This murder interests me, and I wish to learn the
+truth. Naturally I seek for information."
+
+"Oh! And you have come here to question my aunt."
+
+"No, indeed. I don't see what she can tell me."
+
+"She can tell you nothing," said Miss Monk, with decision, "my aunt is
+not quite sane, as you can easily see. She has a moderately good
+income, yet prefers to live in that miserable place, which you"--she
+was sarcastic here--"called comfortable, Mr. Vance."
+
+"I wished to put Miss Destiny in a good humor," said I uneasily.
+
+"Why?"
+
+She was so very direct that I nearly came out with the truth. But it
+was absurd, on the face of it, to confess a crazy love for one I had
+known only half an hour: she would take so sudden a declaration as an
+insult. I therefore held my peace and fenced. "Miss Destiny, from what
+she said at Mootley, seems to know something about that glass eye,
+which was stolen from Mrs. Caldershaw's head when she was dead. I wish
+to learn all about it, so as to discover why the eye was stolen and
+the woman murdered."
+
+"Then you _did_ come here to question my aunt, in spite of your
+denial?"
+
+"Well, if I must confess it, I came to ask about the glass eye."
+
+Miss Monk walked on in silence, and then again spoke abruptly. "You
+should be honest with me, Mr. Vance."
+
+"I am honest."
+
+"Pardon me, you are not, since you said that you did not see what my
+aunt could tell you." And she looked like an offended goddess.
+
+This was brutally true: I had equivocated. "I throw myself on your
+mercy."
+
+She turned a pair of surprised eyes in my direction. "Why on mine?"
+
+"I appear to have offended you," I hesitated.
+
+"What does that matter? we are strangers."
+
+"I wish we were not," said my rash tongue, and Miss Monk stopped.
+
+"I really don't understand you, Mr. Vance. Why should it matter to me
+whether we are strangers or not?"
+
+"Your aunt's words when she introduced me----"
+
+Miss Monk flushed and cut me short. "That is my aunt's nonsense," she
+said hastily. "You don't expect me to believe that you followed me
+here because you admired my photograph."
+
+That was exactly what I had done, but it did not do to tell her so,
+for she looked more like an offended goddess than ever. "I came here
+about the eye," was my cautious answer.
+
+"You think that a true knowledge of why Anne Caldershaw attached a
+value to that eye would enable you to trace her assassin?"
+
+"Yes, I do think so. Do you, Miss Monk?" I spoke with the cloak in my
+mind. "Do you wish me to trace her assassin?"
+
+"Why not. She should certainly be captured and punished and the eye
+recovered, especially, as you seem to think it can indicate where the
+money left to me by Uncle Gabriel is hidden."
+
+"She! she! she!" I positively gasped.
+
+"Of course." Again she looked surprised. "I understand from the report
+in the papers, that the woman who ran off with your motor car is the
+assassin."
+
+It was with some difficulty that I commanded my voice. Miss Monk, I
+thought, must be very sure that she had hidden her trail successfully,
+else she would scarcely dare to speak in this way. But, of course, as
+I remembered, she did not yet know that I had found her cloak. "You
+would like to have the woman traced?"
+
+"Yes," she said coolly, "and the eye recovered, if it means the
+recovery of my money. I inherit fifty thousand pounds by----"
+
+"I know: I know," said I hastily, "Mrs. Gilfin told me."
+
+Miss Monk's face clouded. "I daresay," she remarked bitterly, "the
+story of the missing money is common property. No doubt Mrs. Gilfin
+told you that my uncle Gabriel was a miser."
+
+"Yes. She told me a good deal."
+
+"You asked her?" questioned the girl, suddenly.
+
+"I admit it: in the interests of the case."
+
+"Of course," she said, whether ironically or not I could not
+determine, and then walked on in silence.
+
+Shortly we were abreast of a mouldering red-brick wall on the
+outskirts of the village. Beyond could be seen the mellow-tiled roofs
+of a large mansion.
+
+Miss Monk stopped abruptly. "I live here," she said, with some
+coldness, "and must go in. Good-day, Mr. Vance."
+
+She vanished through a heavy green gate, and left me staring down the
+deserted road. To me, the sun seemed to have vanished from the sky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+GERTRUDE'S FATHER
+
+
+Hitherto I have explained everything in detail, from the time I
+adventured out to seek romance and found tragedy instead. Now I must
+be more or less exact, as it is well nigh impossible to set down
+everything. For an indefinite period I lodged at The Robin Redbreast,
+and met Miss Monk frequently here, there, and everywhere. The moth had
+come to the candle, and was hovering round the flame with dangerous
+pertinacity. Not that the lady accepted me straight away, for the most
+romantic of women have their practical side. Miss Monk, at first
+acquaintance, apparently liked me: but I puzzled her, and she
+questioned Mrs. Gilfin about me, so as to be sure of her ground. A
+very necessary precaution in the face of circumstances.
+
+"You seem to have made quite an impression on that sweet young lady,
+Master Cyrus," said the landlady, a day or so after I had visited Miss
+Destiny, "she met me by chance last night and asked me to tell her all
+about you."
+
+"I hope you gave me a good character," said I anxiously, and very
+pleased to think that my interest in Diana of the Ephesians was
+reciprocated.
+
+"I told her that you were always the best of boys Master Cyrus, and
+that fond of my custards, as I had always to give you one every day
+when you was little and sweet-toothed."
+
+I reddened. "Oh, nonsense! Miss Monk doesn't wish to hear tales of my
+childish greed, Cuckoo."
+
+"She wished to hear everything," said Mrs. Gilfin, phlegmatically,
+"being wonderfully took up with your pleasant ways. And I don't blame
+her," said the ex-cook, beaming through her spectacles, "seeing as
+you're a gentleman grown, Master Cyrus, and handsomer than I ever
+thought you'd become. Not that Miss Gertrude cares for good looks
+without good birth, and good manners, or she'd have run off with
+Joseph ages ago."
+
+"Is he back?" I asked, starting, for I had to reckon with the
+gardener.
+
+"Oh, yes, he's back," grunted Mrs. Gilfin, disgusted, "and always
+hanging about that house picking weeds. So he says, but it's to look
+at what he'll never get, as I'll tell him some fine day. Such sauce!"
+
+"He hasn't had the insolence to speak to Miss Monk on the subject of
+his confounded feelings?" I asked, anxiously, for there was no denying
+that the man's aggressive good looks constituted him a dangerous
+rival.
+
+"Not he, and if he did she'd soon send him to the right about with a
+flea in his ear. Good looks ain't good manners, Master Cyrus, say what
+you will."
+
+"Well," I laughed. "I hope you told her that I was the best-mannered
+and most good-natured man in the universe, Cuckoo."
+
+"I told the truth, you may be sure, Master Cyrus," rebuked Mrs.
+Gilfin, "saying you was that honorable and clever and thoughtful and
+kindhearted, as I'd trust you with my very own heart to do what you
+liked with. Not that you want _my_ heart, bless you," ended Mrs.
+Gilfin, beaming again and becoming one vast substantial smile like
+Mrs. Fezziwig in "The Christmas Carol."
+
+"You want Miss Gertrude's."
+
+"Good heavens, Cuckoo! you didn't tell her that I hope?"
+
+"Not in so many words, Master Cyrus. But bless you," added Mrs. Gilfin
+significantly, "women in these matters ain't fools, sir."
+
+I was rather perturbed over this, as it was not impossible that the
+maidenly modesty of Gertrude might take offence, if she guessed my
+undeclared sentiments. And in any case, the slightest hint of such an
+attitude might embarrass our conversation. By this time, it was
+useless to deny that I was fathoms deep in love. I suppose I had
+brooded so long over the beauty of the pictured face, that when the
+original proved to be even more attractive, the egg of love was
+promptly hatched into the actual chick From the moment my eyes met
+those of Gertrude, and soul read soul, I adored her with a headstrong
+passion, which I should have scouted in another man. If ever there was
+an impulsive being who aptly illustrated Marlow's dictum, as to love
+at first sight, I was that uncommon individual. For I take it that
+sudden passions of this unthinking sort, are unusual in an age, when
+lovers--a most unsuitable name for such cautious creatures--wish to
+inspect the lady's check-book before proposing.
+
+But I need not have worried my mind over any possible embarrassment on
+Miss Monk's part. She was more composed than I was when we next met;
+and that was in the village store, whither I had gone to procure some
+stationery. It was necessary to write Cannington and advise him of my
+actual whereabouts, if only to keep him out of the way. I did not wish
+him to come down and spoil my wooing, as an inconvenient third.
+Besides, as a feather-headed boy, he might be indiscreet with regard
+to the Mootley murder, and I wished to supply all information on that
+matter, by word of mouth. It was the sole excuse, which I had for
+seeking the society of my goddess, and I did not wish it to be staled
+by other people's repetitions.
+
+While I was purchasing blotting-paper, ink and pens and stationery
+from a genial old woman in a mob-cap, Miss Monk entered the shop. She
+was dressed as she had been when I last saw her, but this time carried
+a dog-whip in place of a sunshade. Gamboling round her was a large
+ungainly Newfoundland year-old puppy, who answered to the odd name of
+Puddles. At least that was his pet name, as Miss Monk afterwards told
+me that he was registered as Ion, after the hero of Judge Talfourd's
+famous play. Puddles lounged against me with exuberant friendliness,
+and had to be corrected with the whip. When the commotion subsided,
+his mistress found time to speak and apologize, looking handsomer than
+ever, with the color of exercise in her cheeks.
+
+"You mustn't mind the dog," she said gravely, "he won't bite you."
+
+"I hope not," I replied with equal gravity, "I am extremely timid, you
+know."
+
+She smiled at this. "I think I would trust you in a moment of danger,
+Mr. Vance. But to be friends with me, you must be friends with
+Puddles."
+
+"I quite understand. Love me, love my dog."
+
+"I didn't say anything about love," she laughed, her color deepening.
+"But in any case, you have put the cart before the horse. Love my dog
+and love me, you should say."
+
+"Certainly! Puddles!" I dropped on one knee, and held out a caressing
+hand, "try and love me--as a beginning."
+
+"A beginning to what?" asked Miss Monk, smiling and crimson.
+
+"Puddles knows, Puddles understands: see, he gives me his paw. Good
+dog." I shook the huge paw, patted the huge head, and rose to be
+conventional. "It is a beautiful day, isn't it, Miss Monk."
+
+"Of course, and the horse is the noblest of all animals," she replied
+with up-lifted eyebrows. "I thought you were more original, Mr.
+Vance."
+
+"I assure you that is a mistake. I am that harmless, and necessary
+person, the repeater of platitudes."
+
+She shuddered. "Don't repeat them to me, please, I hate copy-book
+phrases."
+
+"Yet what good sense they contain. Your remark about the horse is one,
+and is absolutely true."
+
+"So true," she mocked, "as to make the statement unnecessary." She
+turned to purchase a bag of dog-biscuits. "Are we fighting a verbal
+duel, Mr. Vance?"
+
+"It would seem so, Miss Monk, but the buttons are on our foils."
+
+With the bag in her arms, she wheeled nervously. "Why do you say
+that?" and there was apprehension in her dark eyes.
+
+"I speak for the sake of speaking."
+
+"No," her anxious eyes searched my face, "you are not that kind of
+man. If you----" she stopped and bit her lip, and with a curt nod
+walked rapidly out of the shop followed by Puddles. I did not attempt
+to follow, as I saw that my cryptic speech had interested her, and
+wished to give her time to think over my personality. While I remained
+in her thoughts, there was every hope that she would seek me again.
+Better that she should be afraid of me, than indifferent to me.
+
+And as I sauntered back to The Robin Redbreast, I felt convinced that
+she was afraid of me: my dark sayings had made her afraid. At our
+first meeting under the tin roof of Miss Destiny's hovel, I had seen
+the fear in her eyes, and at this second meeting I saw it again, more
+apparent. But, what could she be afraid of in connection with me?
+There was only one common-sense answer: Gertrude Monk was the lady who
+had stolen my motor-car, and who had--but no; I could not bring myself
+to believe the worst, even in the face of the obvious certainty that
+she was concealing something, which had to do with the weird
+circumstances at Mootley. She would explain when the time came, and
+that would be when she was sufficiently well acquainted with me to
+regard Mrs. Gilfin's eulogy as justified. Then--well I would wait
+until then, for in the pursuit of the impossible, I was developing a
+fine quality of patience.
+
+During the next few days, I occasionally met Miss Destiny and her
+servant in the village. They went shopping together, and the little
+old lady beat down the prices of everyone, however cheap the goods she
+wanted might originally be. I believe she enjoyed the squabble, and
+certainly her tongue clacked from morning to night in the endeavor to
+get her own sordid way. She was a miser, pure and simple, and had
+contracted the disease--for that it was--from the late Gabriel Monk.
+Everyone hated Miss Destiny, for in addition to being avaricious, she
+had a desperately evil tongue, and dealt with one and all from the
+point of view of a misanthrope. That is, she never said a good word of
+anyone, but babbled out many bad ones, so that she set people by the
+ears constantly. She might have abused me, for all I knew, but if she
+did, her demeanor to my face was extremely pleasant. When we met, she
+always hinted roguishly at my love for her niece, and chaffed me about
+the same. At times I wondered if she discussed my presence at Burwain
+with Gertrude. I thought not, as my meetings with the goddess were
+always marked by a perfectly unembarrassed manner on her part.
+Moreover, aunt and niece did not get on well together, and only
+exchanged formal visits. Miss Destiny--as I gathered from Mrs.
+Gilfin's ready tongue--had never forgiven Gertrude for inheriting the
+missing fortune, and always expressed herself pleased that it could
+not be found.
+
+Although I had been over a fortnight at Burwain, Mr. Walter Monk was
+still absent from the old Jacobean mansion, and Gertrude lived there
+with one servant in nun-like seclusion. She read a great deal, and
+played the piano and attended to Puddles--a great stand-by against
+loneliness. Joseph also was frequently about the garden, but I don't
+think she ever gave him a word--on Mrs. Gilfin's authority I can say
+this--unless it had to do with his duties. But he hung round the place
+like a stray dog, satisfied if he could catch only a glimpse of
+Gertrude, and was in the seventh heaven if she addressed a word to
+him. Miss Destiny spoke to me of the gardener's infatuation, which was
+apparent to everyone.
+
+"You have met Joseph?" she asked me one day in her mincing manner.
+
+"At Mootley, when he was setting his aunt's house in order," I
+informed her genially. I was always genial with Miss Destiny, as for
+my own purposes I wished to keep on good terms with her.
+
+"Ah, yes. He inherited Anne's savings. Quite a nice little sum, I
+believe. And the lease of the shop also," added Miss Destiny musingly,
+"Gertrude might do worse."
+
+"What do you mean?" I asked sharply, and, I fear, angrily.
+
+The little old lady raised her twinkling sharp eyes to my annoyed
+face. "I forgot," she said impishly, "you are the other one."
+
+"The other what, Miss Destiny?"
+
+"Lover--the second Prince Charming; though I think," she remarked in a
+very spiteful tone, "that the first Prince is the handsomer."
+
+I went straight to the point. "Miss Destiny, I don't for one moment
+suppose that you would like to see Miss Monk become Striver's wife."
+
+"Why not. He has looks, if not birth; and money, if not position."
+
+"The thing's absurd. A lady marry a gardener."
+
+"Other ladies have done so and have been happy," she persisted.
+"Besides Gertrude may not be able to help herself."
+
+"What do you mean by that?"
+
+"Nothing and everything," she replied enigmatically. "Mr. Striver is
+in possession of all Anne's private papers," she hesitated.
+
+"Well? well? well?" I said impatiently.
+
+"Ask Gertrude," she snapped out.
+
+"Ask what?"
+
+Miss Destiny winced, and her black eyes twinkled again. "Ask her to be
+your wife, Mr. Vance, else you will find her Mrs. Striver before six
+months are ended. Now don't ask questions here," she pointed to her
+flat bosom, "ask them of Gertrude. Again I say, Joseph has Anne
+Caldershaw's private papers."
+
+"Well?" I was more bewildered than ever.
+
+"That is all," said Miss Destiny, and dropping one of her
+old-fashioned curtseys, she trotted off, laughing malignantly like a
+wicked fairy.
+
+What the terrible old woman meant I could not imagine, but I
+determined to take her advice and ask questions in the right quarter.
+I had now been some time at Burwain, and, as yet, had learned nothing
+likely to throw light on the darkness of the Mootley murder. Striver
+evidently had made up his mind to stay where he was as gardener at The
+Lodge, and although we never spoke, he always eyed me savagely when I
+paid a visit to the mansion. It is true that Gertrude did not invite
+me into the house, and always saw me in the garden; but that I should
+dare to come and worship at his private shrine was quite enough to
+make Striver desperately angry.
+
+And in his working clothes the fellow looked handsomer than ever. I
+really wondered that Gertrude did not fall in love with him, as he was
+by way of being a rustic Apollo, and was possessed of some education.
+But she was always extremely cool to him, and scarcely displayed more
+warmth towards me. A most inscrutable girl. I could not make her out,
+for try as I would the secret of her _noli-me-tangere_ attitude
+baffled and disconcerted me.
+
+"My father is returning for a few days this evening," said Gertrude to
+me when we met by chance on the village green.
+
+"I should like to meet him," I said promptly.
+
+"Why?" she demanded with her usual directness.
+
+It was a difficult question to answer. "I admire his daughter," was my
+lame reply. "Surely you can understand----"
+
+"That you are talking nonsense," she interrupted quickly. "Yes I can,"
+she stopped for a moment, then went on impetuously, "I wish you would
+go away."
+
+"I see no reason why I should," I remonstrated.
+
+"I do. I do. You are not hot; you are not cold; you are neither fowl,
+fish, nor good red-herring. Go away," and turning on her heel she
+walked away so swiftly that I had no time to ask further questions.
+
+What did she mean? I could not understand. Later I met with Miss
+Destiny, and could understand the aunt no more than I understood the
+niece. The first told me to go away in a most peremptory manner, while
+the second hinted that because Joseph possessed Mrs. Caldershaw's
+private papers, Gertrude was likely to become Mrs. Striver within six
+months. It was really all very perplexing, and the sole way to end
+such perplexity was to show Miss Monk her cloak and demand
+explanations. But this I did not wish to do, until I was more certain
+of my ground: until I understood her feelings towards myself better.
+For by this time, what with Striver's persistence, her own dismissal
+of myself, and Miss Destiny's strange hints, I was beginning to
+believe that she favored my handsome, humble attentive rival.
+
+"I sha'n't stand it any longer," I thought, turning my steps towards
+the inn. "This very evening, I shall call and see her. We must have an
+explanation straight away!" And this resolution I adhered to so firmly
+that I found myself at the door of the Jacobean mansion one hour after
+dinner--that is, seeing I dined early in the country--at seven
+o'clock.
+
+The grounds of The Lodge--thanks to Striver's love-lorn devotion--were
+most beautifully kept. The flower-beds had no weeds, the lawns were
+smoothly clipped and rolled, and the whole place had an orderly trim
+look, which contrasted oddly with the tumbledown appearance of the
+house itself. This, of mellow red brick, overgrown with ivy, stood on
+a slight rise, and a wide terrace of stone with shallow steps
+descending to the lawns, ran round three sides of it. Some Vandal had
+put French windows into the drawing-room, and these looked quite out
+of keeping with the old-world air of the mansion. It was a very
+ancient house, and I verily believe that only the ivy held the
+mouldering bricks together. The porch was large and chilly, and when I
+pulled the bell, its jangling echoes, followed by the baying of
+Puddles, added to the lonely impression produced by the place. Miss
+Destiny called her niece "The Sleeping Beauty!" so this dismal
+dwelling might well have been her palace. Only Mr. Striver's trim
+garden looked modern and well-cared for: the house itself was a slight
+improvement on the ruins of Carthage.
+
+The one servant of the Lodge--a white-capped, sober, sedate old
+creature called Trumble--came to the door, and seemed doubtful about
+admitting me. The place was like a convent and evidently Trumble did
+not wish any male to enter. But while I argued with her, Miss Monk
+appeared, and intimated that I could come in. I would have thanked
+her, but that her beauty took my breath away. Even in the dim light of
+the hall lamp, she shone like a star; but it was not until we were in
+the drawing-room that the full perfection of her loveliness burst upon
+me. I stared like an oaf, or like the misnamed Cortez in Keats's
+sonnet.
+
+She was in a pale-blue evening dress, which displayed her beautiful
+neck and arms to perfection. As in the photograph, she wore no
+necklace, or bracelets, or rings, or brooches, or indeed ornaments of
+any description. The dress also was plain and devoid of trimming, so
+that it revealed fully the noble lines of her figure. As usual her
+hair was bunched at the back of her shapely head in ancient Greek
+fashion, and she more than ever reminded me of Diana. I did not look
+at a mere picture this time, but at the flesh and blood divinity, who
+had descended in gracious splendor from high Olympus. Though indeed,
+her somewhat stern face did not look very gracious at the moment.
+
+Owing to my intention of calling, I had arrayed myself in a dress suit
+for the occasion, although I did not usually prepare myself for dinner
+in this way at The Robin Redbreast. But, manlike, I had a feeling of
+vanity that I also was ultra-civilized. Had I come in tweeds I should
+have been ashamed to face this gracious vision. And yet I am not a
+vain man, though, as the somewhat unworthy sentiment flashed into my
+mind, I thought what a conceited ass I was. And all because I loved a
+woman and wished to appear at my best before her. Truly human nature
+is strange and--as in the present personal instance--trifling.
+
+"Well," asked Miss Monk, a slight smile breaking the severe curve of
+her lips, as she saw how persistently I stared, "why have you called,
+Mr. Vance?"
+
+"Is it a crime?" I asked, somewhat annoyed.
+
+"In my eyes it is, because I asked you to go away."
+
+"Ah, I came here to seek for an explanation."
+
+"I have none to give. Still, as you are here, you may as well sit
+down. I cannot see you for more than half an hour, as my father is
+returning."
+
+I sat down on the chair she indicated, and she placed herself on the
+opposite sofa which stretched diagonally before the fire. There were
+three lamps with rosy shades in the large low-ceilinged room, and we
+sat in a kind of Paphian twilight, eminently suited to a proposal.
+What with the subdued light amidst which she glimmered like an
+exquisite star, and my own tumultuous feelings, I wonder that I did
+not take her in my arms, then and there to kiss her into consenting to
+be my dear wife. But prudence came to my aid and I was spared the
+necessity of a refusal, which certainly would have been forthcoming
+had I acted as I felt inclined to do.
+
+She was silent, and I was silent, and the only sound in the room was
+the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the French clock on the
+mantelpiece. Then, as Gertrude did not speak, I was forced to begin
+the conversation, else my half-hour would be wasted.
+
+"You puzzle me, Miss Monk," I said bluntly, and purposely said it, so
+as to enchain her attention.
+
+"Do I? Why?"
+
+"Your aunt also puzzles me," I went on, ignoring her question.
+
+"Why?" she asked again, and the uneasy troubled look came into her
+eyes.
+
+"She declares that you will become Mrs. Striver within six months----"
+
+"Mr. Vance!" She rose impulsively, and looked highly indignant.
+
+"Because," I continued remorselessly, and repeating Miss Destiny's
+exact words, "Joseph has Anne Caldershaw's private papers."
+
+Miss Monk turned white, gasped, and sank back nervously into her seat.
+"My aunt is mad to say such a thing," she stammered.
+
+"Possibly," said I dryly. "I have no very great idea of Miss Destiny's
+sanity myself. But, it may be that you can explain the madness."
+
+Gertrude looked round the room, as if in search of help, and placed
+both hands on her breast as though to still the beating of her heart.
+"I would explain--to a friend," she muttered, and her face was whiter
+than the statue of Parian marble on the bracket by the fireplace.
+
+"I am a friend, Miss Monk."
+
+"A true friend?"
+
+"Test me and find me so." I bent over her. "Can you not understand?"
+
+She put out her hand and pushed me back slightly. "My friend--not
+yet."
+
+I retreated. "Friend--so cold a word."
+
+"It is sufficient for the present," and then I saw that her whiteness
+was drowned in a rising tide of crimson. I would have spoken, for a
+sudden leap of my heart told me that her feelings were not so
+indifferent as I had imagined them to be. But again she put over her
+hand. "No, say nothing; let us remain friends until----"
+
+"Until when?" I asked eagerly.
+
+Pressing her hands between her knees she stared into the fire, then
+spoke in a low steady voice. "I never had a friend, either man or
+woman, and I have always wanted one. When you came I thought--it was
+foolish on my part perhaps--but I thought that you might help me."
+
+"I wish to help you in every way."
+
+She went on without heeding my impetuous speech. "I doubted: one
+always doubts a man. I asked Mrs. Gilfin about you. What she told me,
+confirmed the impression I had gained from your looks. I felt certain
+from many times we have met that Mrs. Gilfin spoke truly. You are a
+man I can trust."
+
+"Yes! yes! But am I a man you can love?"
+
+"Let it remain as trust for the time being. I still had doubts, and
+to-day I told you to go away."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because you said nothing, you did nothing. You were neither hot
+nor--ah well, remember what I said to-day when we met. I could not
+make a friend of anyone who was indifferent. But now, as I see you
+mean to be my friend, I may trust you. I need sympathy: I need help: I
+need"--she started to her feet and held up an anxious finger. "Hark!
+hark! Not a word to him."
+
+To him? I wondered what she meant, until the door opened and a man
+walked delicately into the room.
+
+"Here I am, daughterling," said the man gaily.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+A SURPRISE
+
+
+I was decidedly disappointed by the inopportune arrival of Mr. Walter
+Monk. His daughter was just about to tell me much that I greatly
+desired to know, and his abrupt entrance had prevented her from
+speaking freely. It was most provoking, as I might not easily find her
+again in a confidential mood. However, as things were, it only
+remained to accept the situation philosophically, so I dismissed the
+lost opportunity with a shrug and turned to examine the new-comer.
+Already he was embracing the girl, whom he rather effectedly called
+"daughterling." I summed up his character from his use of that exotic
+word.
+
+Mr. Monk presented himself, as a dapper, small-sized man, with a
+clean-shaven face, smooth grey hair parted accurately in the middle
+of his small head, and a pince-nez, which usually concealed two
+shallow brown eyes. On removing an expensive travelling-coat, lined
+with sable, he appeared in an admirably-cut tweed suit, with smart
+brown shoes, dark-blue socks, and a silk scarf of the same hue
+knotted neatly under an immaculately white collar. He struck me as a
+lap-dog man: a dandy, a _petit-mâitre_, too precisely dressed, too
+finicky--that's the exact word--in his manner: too effeminate in his
+way of speaking. There was a suggestion of Miss Destiny's mincing ways
+in his whole attitude. How such a doll-like piece of humanity came to
+have so tall and stately a daughter was a question I could not answer,
+until it struck me that Gertrude might take after her deceased mother.
+Then I wondered afresh how such a woman could have married such a
+manikin.
+
+"I am glad to see you, dear," said Gertrude, kissing him in such a
+motherly way, "but I did not hear the bell."
+
+"I let myself in by using my latch-key," replied Mr. Monk, disengaging
+himself from an embrace which somewhat disarranged his careful attire,
+"and this gentleman, Gerty dear?"
+
+"Mr. Vance--Mr. Cyrus Vance, the dramatist."
+
+"How are you, Mr. Vance. I think," Mr. Monk put his finger
+reflectively to his forehead, "I think I have heard the name."
+
+"I doubt it," was my reply, for the disparaging insolence of the
+little man somewhat amused me, "my fame has not travelled very far
+towards the West."
+
+"Oh, I am sure it deserves to," said Mr. Monk politely. "Gerty, dear,
+can you give me a cup of coffee."
+
+"Dinner will be ready soon, father."
+
+"I do not want any, daughterling, as I dined in town. Rather early, to
+be sure, but the food was better than I could get here. Coffee, my
+love, coffee, and a cigarette, if you will permit smoking in your
+drawing-room."
+
+This unnecessary politeness was a further revelation of Mr. Monk's
+character. Under the mask of courtesy, he secured his selfish ends,
+and imposed upon everyone by a heartless good breeding, which passed
+for amiability. I judged that in looks and manner and dress and
+inclinations he resembled Harold Skimpole, Esquire, and was quite as
+homeward-bound as that gentleman. I could have kicked myself for
+accepting a cigarette from a man of so mean a nature. But then he was
+Gertrude's father, after all, and it was necessary to secure his good
+will if I desired to marry her. She seemed to be fond of him, and
+treated him with playful love. Filial affections evidently warped her
+judgment, a state of things of which I am sure Mr. Monk took every
+advantage.
+
+While Gertrude ran for the coffee, he lighted my cigarette--which he
+had just handed me--insisted that I should be seated, and then took
+possession of the best chair, which he selected with unerring
+judgment. "I was not aware that my daughter knew you, Mr. Vance," he
+said, gracefully examining his manicured nails. "Have we acquaintances
+in common?"
+
+"Miss Destiny," I rejoined, laconically.
+
+"My sister-in-law. Strange, since she is quite a home-bird--so
+attached to her modest little nest. Where did you meet her may I ask?"
+
+"At Mootley, when Anne Caldershaw was murdered."
+
+The cigarette fell from Mr. Monk's white fingers, and he shuddered.
+"Oh pray don't speak of that horrid thing," he cried, holding up a
+protesting hand, "it as cost me many sleepless nights. So old and
+valued a servant, as Anne was. I shall never get over it: never. I was
+in London and when I read the news in the papers, I nearly fainted,
+really I did, I assure you."
+
+"Don't speak of it, papa, if it annoys you," said Gertrude, coming
+behind his chair to kiss the top of his head.
+
+"No, my dear, I won't." He picked up the cigarette and waved his hand.
+"I banish the disagreeable vision. To a man of refinement, these
+crimes suggest painful thoughts, such as make one grow old. It is my
+aim in life, Mr. Vance," he added, turning to me, "to avoid the
+unpleasant. Beauty is my desire--beauty and peace. I cannot bear the
+poor and the sordid: I shrink from the great unwashed. Very estimable
+people, no doubt, but," he shuddered in his mincing way, "let them
+keep out of my sight."
+
+"You are not a philanthropist, Mr. Monk?"
+
+"Certainly not. Why should I trouble about the poor. They are quite
+happy in their own disagreeable way, and to meddle with them only
+makes them discontented. Yes, Mr. Vance"--he stopped suddenly and
+again applied the reflective forefinger. "Ah, yes, I remember now. I
+saw your name as one of the witnesses at the absurd inquest. That was
+why it sounded familiar."
+
+"Why do you call the inquest absurd, papa?" asked Gertrude, handing
+him a cup of coffee, for while he was speaking it had been brought
+into the room.
+
+"Such unnecessary trouble over a common woman," murmured Mr. Monk
+gracefully; "with a glass eye too--an incomplete woman. And so very
+ugly. Her one redeeming feature was that she could cook, though with
+my late brother she had small opportunity of exercising that great
+art. But let us change the subject, my child, lest horrid dreams
+should come to us all from contemplating the crimson theme of murder.
+You are staying here, Mr. Vance?" he asked, dropping his grandiloquent
+manner, and speaking alertly.
+
+"At The Robin Redbreast."
+
+"For some time?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders. "It depends upon my fancy."
+
+"I should not think Burwain had many attractions for a young man,"
+said Mr. Monk, still alert, and decidedly inquisitive.
+
+"Oh, I am not very young, sir, and after the turmoil of London, a
+change of scene to this restful place is agreeable."
+
+"Quite so, quite so," he nodded an assent, but his eyes behind the
+pince-nez were still watchful. "But after this Mootley tragedy I
+should have thought you would have sickened of the country. By the
+way," he stirred his coffee negligently, "is there any chance that the
+assassin will be found?"
+
+"I can't say; I mean to try," said I grimly, and wondered why Mr. Monk
+harped on the crimson theme he so much disliked.
+
+"_You_ meant to try," he stared and sat up quickly. "Why, may I ask?"
+
+"I have the vice of curiosity," was my answer. "And the circumstances
+of the case are so odd, that I wish to solve the mystery."
+
+"I don't see where the mystery comes into the matter, Mr. Vance, if
+you will pardon my having a contrary opinion to yourself. The woman
+who ran off with your motor car,--I remember what you had to do with
+the matter quite well now,--stabbed Anne with a hat-pin. Where is your
+mystery there?"
+
+"Dear papa," said Gertrude, who was perched on the arm of his chair,
+"don't talk about the matter, as I see it agitates you greatly."
+
+I glanced at her when she said this, as it struck me that if she was
+the woman who had taken my car, she naturally would not like the
+matter to be spoken about. But she appeared to be perfectly calm, and
+her color did not change when our eyes met. Mr. Monk was far more
+discomposed than she was. "My dear," he said in answer to her
+remonstrance, "I must steel myself to hear all about our old
+servant--at least about Gabriel's old servant. Where, I ask again, is
+the mystery?"
+
+"In the fact that Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye was stolen," I asserted.
+
+"Well," admitted Mr. Monk reluctantly, "that is a strange article to
+steal I agree. Do you know why it was stolen, Mr. Vance?"
+
+"I have a theory."
+
+"What is your theory?" he pursued eagerly.
+
+"Your late brother left fifty thousand pounds to Miss Monk here," I
+explained, "and that money cannot be found. I believe that Mrs.
+Caldershaw in some way knew of the whereabouts of this fortune and
+indicated the hiding-place in some way by means of the glass eye. It
+was stolen by the person who desired to gain that fortune."
+
+"Dear me." Mr. Monk sat up briskly, and then rose to his feet, "have
+you any grounds for this strange belief?"
+
+"None that would satisfy you, Mr. Monk."
+
+"What do you think, my child?"
+
+"There may be something in the idea," admitted Gertrude cautiously,
+"it may be worth Mr. Vance's while to search the matter out. I admit
+that I should be glad if he could find the money."
+
+If she was the woman who had taken the car, this speech was strangely
+daring, and while she made it, her eyes were fixed very straightly on
+mine. In fact, it was my eyes that fell first before hers. I must say
+that she puzzled me, in the face of what I knew, and more than ever I
+regretted the inopportune entrance of Mr. Monk, when she had been on
+the eve of making an explanation, which might have solved the mystery
+of her behavior.
+
+"Yes, yes," said Mr. Monk, trotting up and down the room, "I should be
+glad of the money myself," and again I noted that in his selfishness
+he did not appear to remember that his daughter owned the missing
+fortune, "well, well, well, well, well, it is a strange theory,
+and--if you will pardon my saying so, Mr. Vance--somewhat incredible."
+
+"Theories are usually more or less incredible," said I, dryly.
+"However, if the glass eye can be found, we may prove the improbable
+to be the possible."
+
+"The glass eye: h'm, the glass eye of Anne Caldershaw," Mr. Monk
+halted near my chair, and placed me--so to speak--in the witness-box.
+He questioned me most precisely concerning my theory, weighed my
+replies, made suggestion of his own, and appealed several times to
+Gertrude, to learn what she thought about the matter. Finally he
+concluded that there might be something in the matter, although he
+confessed that he saw no chance of recovering the missing eye, which
+was the clue to the missing money. "Always presuming," was Mr. Monk's
+final remark, "that you are correct, there is no doubt that the
+fortune is missing, and that we--my daughter and I--would be glad to
+obtain it. But the chances of finding the key--if it be the key--to
+the mystery of the hiding-place are very, very remote. Never mind, go
+on."
+
+"I have explained everything I know, Mr. Monk."
+
+"I don't mean that, sir. What I mean is, that I desire you to go on
+with the search for the glass eye, and for the criminal who
+slaughtered Anne. How do you propose to proceed, may I ask?"
+
+"I haven't the least idea," I replied, despondently.
+
+"No matter; do not despair. _Nil desperandum_ is a most excellent
+motto for the young and ambitious. It has been my motto through
+life--" This came excellently from a man, who had done nothing but
+indulge himself throughout his fifty years of existence. But he made
+the statement in a light and airy manner, then turned to his daughter:
+"My dear, don't you think that after this very criminal conversation,
+we might have a little music to soothe and charm our weary souls?"
+
+Gertrude, whom the examination had made thoughtful, excused herself on
+the plea of fatigue, so Mr. Monk took possession of the piano himself.
+He played gracefully, if not convincingly, and sang little songs in a
+pleasant voice of no great power. I would much rather have chatted
+with Gertrude, who was now staring meditatively into the fire, but Mr.
+Monk demanded my entire attention. He was jealous of applause, and I
+was obliged to watch him sitting at the piano like an enlarged white
+rabbit. I thought privately that he was an infernal nuisance, but as
+the father of Gertrude, he had to be treated diplomatically.
+
+"Come daughterling," said Monk, when he had exhausted his stock of
+amiable ditties, "you are looking tired. Go to bed, my child, and
+leave Mr. Vance and myself to cigarettes in the smoking-room."
+
+"There is no fire in the smoking-room, papa," said Gertrude, rising.
+
+"Order the servant to light one at once, my love."
+
+"It is not worth while," expostulated his daughter, and then I heard
+her say something in low tones regarding the price of coals. But Mr.
+Monk would take no denial, and--as usual--proceeded to gratify his
+selfish inclinations. However, as it turned out when we sought the
+smoking-room, the fire was not laid, so Mr. Monk, after a few severe
+words about the criminal negligence of servants, relinquished his
+point. "And I regret to see that you are not so excellent a
+housekeeper as I should wish you to be, Gertrude," he finished with
+chill dignity. "However,--let it pass. And before leaving this room,
+Mr. Vance, pray examine it carefully."
+
+This was easy, as on entering he had lighted two powerful lamps--or
+rather he had ordered Gertrude to light them with my assistance--so
+the room was seen to the greatest advantage in the mellow radiance.
+
+"It is the oldest portion of this old house," explained Mr. Monk,
+waving his delicate hand, "built by an ancestor of mine two hundred
+years ago in order to live a monastic life--quite like a Monk, ha!
+ha!" he ended, laughing at his small jest. "My late brother Gabriel
+always lived in this cell--I call it a cell, Mr. Vance. Rather dull
+you know, but the beam is extremely fine as you can see."
+
+The apartment was of no great size with one narrow window opposite to
+one narrow door. Both of these were draped with faded crimson curtains
+to exclude light and draughts. The wide and spacious fireplace was
+decorated with reddish Dutch tiles, and at present was filled with
+ferns and grasses, as it doubtless had been throughout the summer. The
+floor was covered with a richly-hued crimson carpet from a Cairien
+loom, and the furniture--what there was of it--consisted of black oak.
+It really resembled a monastic cell in its severe looks, and the
+atmosphere was chill and deathlike, as though no human being ever
+dwelt in it. Gertrude shivered. "Come back to the drawing-room, papa,"
+she said, impatiently, "you can't smoke in this ice-house."
+
+"All the fault of your doubtful housekeeping, my dear. One moment. I
+wish Mr. Vance to admire this beam to which I called his attention
+some time ago. See the device and lettering, Mr. Vance. An odd motto
+and an odd device. My ancestor chose both, and had the beam carved. A
+very fine piece of work."
+
+The beam, to which he so persistently drew my attention was a massive
+length of dark oak stretched across the ceiling immediately below the
+flat panels of black wood. In the powerful radiance of the two lamps I
+saw that an eagle was carved on the beam, and round him swarmed a
+cloud of winged insects. Beneath ran the motto in Gothic letters, and
+in Latin: _Aquila non capit muscas!_
+
+"An eagle does not catch flies," translated Mr. Monk, with a shrewd
+glance in my direction. "A quaint saying for any man to choose. There
+is a story attached to it, I am certain. Perhaps Gertrude----"
+
+"I don't know of any story, father," she interrupted quickly,
+anticipating a long conversation in this vault-like room. "Do return
+to the drawing-room, or you will catch cold."
+
+This hint of possible danger to his precious person lured Mr. Monk
+away at once. I remained behind and extinguished the lamps for
+Gertrude, trying meanwhile to let her understand that I desired
+to resume our interrupted conversation. But she seemed to be
+absent-minded, and when we left the chill smoking-room, did not ask me
+to follow her father. I therefore assumed my overcoat and took my
+leave. At the last moment, Mr. Monk appeared with hospitable offers.
+
+"A glass of wine: a slice of cake: a cigarette?" said he, graciously.
+"Ah, you will have nothing. Very good. Let us say good-night," he
+shook my hand with a royal air, "remember while you are here to come
+and see us. I may be away, but my daughter will always be charmed to
+show you the house. So pleased to have met you: so very, very
+pleased."
+
+I finally tore myself from Mr. Monk's blandishments, and secured a
+friendly smile from Gertrude as I stepped out into the darkness. On
+the way back to the inn, through the unlighted village streets, I
+meditated on the position. Mr. Monk for his own selfish ends evidently
+desired me to find the criminal; less to avenge Mrs. Caldershaw than
+to secure the glass eye, which I believed to be the clue to the
+hiding-place of the fifty thousand pounds. If I could manage to be
+successful, it was probable that out of gratitude, he would permit me
+to marry his daughter. And Gertrude herself, judging from our
+interrupted conversation, was not averse to me. She was ready to take
+me for a friend, at all events, and from a friend to a lover is not a
+far remove; it only needed time and perseverance to accomplish.
+
+It seemed to me that my best plan was to cultivate Mr. Monk's society
+while he remained at The Lodge, and between whiles, to secure, if
+possible, a private interview with the girl. Apparently there was
+something on her mind, which might, or might not have to do with the
+Mootley murder. But in any case if she were only frank with me, I
+could gage her attitude more accurately. Once I gained her confidence,
+and she knew me to be a true friend, if not a lover, she might explain
+to me how her cloak came to be in the possession of the eloping lady.
+Of course--although, as I have said before--I persistently declined to
+believe this, she might be the eloping lady herself. But in any case,
+it was apparent that I could not move a single step with the clue of
+the cloak until I learned all about it from the woman I now so
+devotedly loved.
+
+Having more or less roughed out my plans, which were to see as much of
+Gertrude and her father as possible, I retired to bed and dreamed that
+I was a married man with a famous name and a large fortune. But the
+pleasant vision was rendered uncomfortable by the constant presence of
+a gigantic eye, which glared malignantly on me and on my schemes. I
+was glad when the morning broke.
+
+For the next two or three days I was pretty constantly at The Lodge,
+and became intimate with Mr. Monk, although I did not see so much of
+Gertrude as I desired. Her father, in his selfishness, would not leave
+us alone, and moreover, learning that I had a motor car, requisitioned
+the same to pay visits to surrounding friends. He went to
+Gattlingsands, to Tarhaven, and even proposed a visit to Mootley in
+order to inspect the scene of the crime. I was quite willing to go.
+
+"We can stop at Murchester and see my friend, Lord Cannington, who is
+in the gunners," I suggested.
+
+Mr. Monk started, and turned to ask questions. "You know Lord
+Cannington?"
+
+"Very well. I have known him for years. And you?"
+
+"Some friend of mine knows him," said Mr. Monk, quietly, although I
+fancied that he was secretly perturbed. "The name struck me as
+familiar. A charming young man, I believe. I wish Gertrude knew him.
+Should this money be recovered, I wish her to marry a title if
+possible."
+
+This suggestion did not suit me at all. Cannington was just the kind
+of inflammable youth to fall at Gertrude's feet, quite independent of
+the fortune. Much as I liked the boy, I did not see why I should
+search out fifty thousand pounds for him and allow him to marry the
+woman I loved. I therefore determined--selfishly perhaps--to keep Mr.
+Monk and Lord Cannington apart, and threw cold water on the journey to
+Murchester. And as Mr. Monk himself did not seem very keen about the
+visit, we did not go.
+
+But he did take me to see Miss Destiny, and asked her graciously to
+The Lodge, rather to the annoyance of Gertrude, who had not much love
+for her miserly aunt. In fact while Monk remained in Burwain--which he
+did for quite a week--Miss Destiny hovered round the house like a bee
+round a flower. Once or twice I met her driving in her so-called
+trap--I agreed with Mrs. Faith that it was a cart--in the company of
+Lucinda, and she behaved pleasantly to me, although she could not deny
+herself the impish delight of hinting at my devotion to Gertrude.
+
+"Not that you'll ever marry her, Mr. Vance. Walter has other plans.
+She is to be used to forward his fortunes, as he wants money."
+
+I said nothing, but privately determined that the girl should not be
+sacrificed like a modern Iphigenia on the altar of selfish paternal
+desires. I kept my counsel, and let Monk talk as he pleased, and was
+unobtrusively agreeable to Gertrude. Miss Destiny I saw very little
+of.
+
+On the sixth day of Mr. Monk's stay in Burwain, I went one afternoon
+to The Lodge and found the little old lady in conversation with
+Striver. The handsome gardener was trying to evade the pertinacity of
+Miss Destiny, who insisted that he should look after her domain for
+nothing. "I am sure that my brother," so she spoke of Mr. Monk, "pays
+you well Joseph, so you can easily give a couple of hours a day to my
+little place."
+
+"I have my duties here," said Striver, scowling as I approached. "But
+if Mr. Monk gives me orders, I can arrange, for a certain sum."
+
+"Oh, I can't pay you a single penny," cried Miss Destiny shrilly.
+"It's not to be expected. But, if you come, you will find me a
+friend."
+
+"In what way?" asked the gardener, sharply, and not too politely.
+
+Miss Destiny did not answer in words. She looked at Striver, then
+looked at me, and finally glanced towards the house, where Gertrude
+was standing in the doorway. My rival flushed crimson, and I did also,
+as we both knew exactly what she meant. On seeing the tell-tale color,
+she burst into a roguish laugh, and walked towards the porch. A moment
+later, and she disappeared with her niece into the house. Striver and
+I looked at one another.
+
+"You have no right to come here," said the gardener, who looked
+handsomer than ever in his rough working clothes.
+
+"What do you mean, man?"
+
+"Oh, it's all very well calling me man in that lordly way," he said
+violently, "but I know quite well that you are in love with----"
+
+"There is no need to mention names," I interrupted, throwing up my
+hand, "and I forbid you to speak to me in this way."
+
+"_You_ forbid me," cried my rival, laughing bitterly, "as if I feared
+you, Mr. Cyrus Vance. You have more need to fear me. Yes. After all, I
+believe you know more about my aunt's death than you chose to say."
+
+I did not deign to reply to this absurd remark, but moved towards
+the house in the hope of meeting Mr. Monk. Usually he was in the
+drawing-room, and as the French windows were open, all three, I
+advanced towards the middle one, while Striver, leaning on his spade
+looked after me enviously. He grudged that I should be able to enter
+the house while he was chained to the garden and to his work. However,
+I had no time to consider his feelings and was about to step into the
+room, when I saw on a small table near it a glittering object. It was
+a glass eye.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+MISS DESTINY SPEAKS
+
+
+There it glared at me--the glass eye for which I sought. As Striver
+had said, it was a mere shell, on the outward curve of which was
+depicted the pupil and the iris of a gray eye, the white portion of
+the fabric being delicately streaked with thin red veins. Uttering an
+ejaculation I tipped it over with my finger, and just had time to see
+that there was a piece of silver the size of a threepenny bit--and
+perhaps indeed a threepenny bit--fastened inside the concave, when I
+heard Mr. Monk's voice calling me on the terrace. It flashed across me
+in an instant that he must not see the eye, which apparently Gertrude
+had carelessly left lying on the table. I should have picked it up to
+slip into my pocket, but the sight was so very unexpected that I had
+not my presence of mind and stepped back again on to the terrace,
+leaving the sinister object on the table. At the same moment Mr. Monk
+coming round the corner of the terrace, slipped his arm within my own.
+"I heard your voice," he said gently and it guided me towards the
+corner, "come and see the green-house. There are some orchids there I
+should like you to examine. I am fond of these weird plants. Such a
+well-bred taste, too," added Mr. Monk, languidly. "The love of a man
+for orchids is like the love of a woman for lace."
+
+I replied mechanically, for my head was in a whirl, and submitted to
+be led to a far distant corner of the garden where the greenhouses
+nestled under the red brick wall. Here, while Mr. Monk discoursed
+learnedly on flowers,--about which he knew less than nothing,--I
+wondered in my own mind what might be the meaning of my discovery. The
+glass eye could have been left in the drawing-room by no one but
+Gertrude, since I already possessed her cloak to show--what I had
+hitherto shrunk from acknowledging even to myself--that she was the
+lady who had stolen my motor-car. Then again, she was the one person
+who had a right to the fifty thousand pounds when found. I groaned. It
+really seemed that my pearl amongst woman was guilty of theft and
+murder. And yet, even at the eleventh hour, I could not make up my
+mind to believe that she was guilty.
+
+Mr. Monk mistook my groan for weariness, and became offended. "I fear
+you don't take much interest in flowers, Mr. Vance," he said, glaring
+at me through his pince-nez.
+
+"Oh, yes; they interest me; pray proceed," I said, hastily.
+
+"No. The air of this place is so dense that it gives me a headache.
+The day is uncommonly warm for this season of the year. Let us return
+to the house. I have a new song I should like to show you. To-morrow I
+return to London, and shall not see you for some time."
+
+"Oh, I can call on you when I go back to town," I said idly, for my
+brain was still preoccupied with the glass eye problem.
+
+"No! No! Pardon me, no," said Mr. Monk decidedly and hastily. "I am
+going away for a few weeks to the Continent--on business of course."
+
+"Business," I echoed, "I thought you were free, Mr. Monk."
+
+He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, as we slowly walked across the
+lawn towards the shallow steps of the terrace. "I have five hundred a
+year," he declared, "and what is that, a mere pittance. I have to
+allow Gertrude something and have this house to keep up. Also my flat
+in London has to be rented. I can't do that on ten pounds a week."
+
+It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he did not remain at
+Burwain and play the part of a country gentleman, to reduce his
+expenditure, when he proceeded. "Yes, I am in business of a sort,
+connected with commissions on loans. That is, you will understand, Mr.
+Vance, I am not a money lender--far from it. I simply find people who
+have no money and who want it and agree to procure them money from
+those who possess it, on condition that I have a ten per cent
+commission. In a word I induce my many friends to benefit each other
+and so benefit myself. Come Mr. Vance, you are a rising dramatist who
+should be better known in the West End. Suppose you allow me--at ten
+per cent--to arrange a loan for you to produce one of your better
+class plays."
+
+"I have no security," I objected.
+
+"I can arrange that," said Mr. Monk with an airy wave of his hand,
+"and if you can find that eye," I started violently, but he did not
+appear to notice, "and get the fifty thousand pounds, I shall let you
+have the money myself at the same percentage. I shall not charge any
+commission," he ended generously, quite forgetting that he was
+proposing to gamble with his daughter's money. But that obtuseness was
+Mr. Monk all over.
+
+"If I could see you in town,"--
+
+"Later on: later on," he said hastily mounting the steps, "say in
+three or four months when I return from the Continent. Then we can
+have a talk."
+
+"Your address is?"--
+
+He interrupted again. "I shall see you here: I shall see you here. It
+will be much more convenient for me," and he passed through the French
+window into the drawing-room.
+
+Mr. Monk puzzled me, as I did not understand why he should refuse to
+see me on his--so to speak--business premises, seeing he desired to
+speak with me on a business matter. However, all his froth and small
+talk were driven out of my head by my discovery that the glass eye had
+disappeared from the small table. I suppose Gertrude had put it into
+her pocket, as she was in the room arranging some flowers in a vase. I
+glanced at her keenly, but she appeared to be perfectly cool.
+
+"Where is your aunt?" asked Monk, looking around.
+
+"She has gone home again: she only came to see if she could get
+Joseph to attend to her place," said Gertrude, busy with her flowers,
+"good-morning, Mr. Vance."
+
+"Good-morning," I answered looking hard at her--so hard that she
+blushed becomingly, but certainly not guiltily.
+
+"What is the matter?" she asked, putting her hand to her head, "is my
+hair out of order?"
+
+"No--o--o--o," I said hesitatingly, for her coolness amazed me. "I was
+only delighted to see you looking so well."
+
+She blushed again. "Thank you," was her laughing reply, "for that
+compliment you shall have a flower," and she actually handed me a late
+rosebud.
+
+I placed it in my button-hole, feeling quite bewildered. It was
+impossible that she could be guilty, and yet the eye had certainly
+been on the table, and perhaps had found a place in her pocket.
+
+Meanwhile Mr. Monk was fuming with injured egotism at being left out
+of the conversation. "Attend to me, Gertrude, if you please," he said
+sharply. "I wish you would tell your aunt that I disapprove of her
+trying to get Joseph to attend to her garden. She will not pay him,
+and the man can't work for nothing."
+
+"Oh, I think he can," said Miss Monk, putting the vase of now-arranged
+flowers on the mantelpiece. "Mrs. Caldershaw left him quite a fortune
+for a man in his station of life. But why don't you speak to my aunt
+yourself."
+
+"No! no! no! She upsets my nerves. We always quarrel."
+
+"Exactly what happens when I speak to her" rejoined Gertrude with a
+shrug; "so I am never pleased when she comes here. It's your fault,
+papa; when you are away she never calls. I really think she must be in
+love with you, dear. You had better take care, papa. Since the
+Deceased Wife's Sister's Bill is law now, aunty may wish to marry
+you."
+
+Monk laughed, and smiled, not ill-pleased by this tribute to his
+looks. "I shall chose a younger wife than your aunt, my dear. The
+stepmother I may give you will be young and charming."
+
+His daughter looked at him in dismay. "Papa, are you thinking of
+marrying again?" she demanded quickly.
+
+"No, my love. I am too poor to marry; but if I met a rich woman,
+well----" he stopped, pulled up his collar, glanced in a near mirror
+and adjusted his tie, apparently thinking he was worthy to be wooed by
+an heiress.
+
+Gertrude laughed, more at ease in her mind. "It would be foolish to
+marry at your age, papa. You have a comfortable house and a good
+income, so why not enjoy yourself as you are doing now."
+
+But it appeared that she had said the wrong thing, since her father
+was excessively touchy. "At my age, Gertrude," he remarked in an
+offended tone, "you forget that I am still comparatively young, and
+that when you marry I shall be very solitary. As to my income, it is a
+mere pittance to a man of my artistic tastes."
+
+His daughter might have reminded him that he spent most of his income
+on himself, and kept her on next to nothing. But she passed over the
+whole speech save one remark: "I shall never marry, papa," she said
+quietly.
+
+"Why not? why not?" fumed Mr. Monk, startled.
+
+"No one will have me," she said demurely.
+
+"Oh," her father laughed, "that is all right; I haven't been unmindful
+of you, my child, when in town. There are one or two men to whom I
+must introduce you with a view to matrimony. I shall arrange----"
+
+"Please don't, papa; I prefer to arrange the question of marriage
+myself."
+
+"Foolish, foolish child," said Monk, his touchy temper again getting
+the better of him, "you shall do as I tell you else you will place me
+in the disagreeable position of Lear," and he walked out of the room
+just like a child, annoyed because the bad naughty table has hurt it.
+
+"Oh, dear me, how easily papa is offended," sighed Gertrude, shrugging
+when he banged the door, "this must be unpleasant for you, Mr. Vance."
+
+"What must be?"
+
+"These family jars."
+
+"Oh, dear, no, don't think that," I answered easily. "I see you have
+to humor your father."
+
+"He's a dear father, Mr. Vance, but sometimes he is difficult to deal
+with; I offend him without meaning to, he is so sensitive."
+
+I thought the man selfish myself, but it was none of my business to
+say so, therefore I dropped the subject and asked Miss Monk to grant
+me a favor.
+
+"I wish you to come to tea to-morrow at the inn. Mrs. Gilfin will play
+the part of chaperon, if your father can't come."
+
+"I don't think papa can, as he is going back to London in the morning.
+I accept with pleasure."
+
+"Shall I ask your aunt."
+
+"Oh, no, please don't. I would rather Mrs. Gilfin were present. Not
+that it needs anyone to play propriety, as I am sure you can behave
+yourself. At what time do you want me to come?"
+
+"Four o'clock, unless you like to come earlier and go for a drive in
+my motor."
+
+"No. I shall come to The Robin Redbreast at four. I wish to ask your
+advice on a very important subject."
+
+"To renew our conversation of the night when your father entered so
+unexpectedly?"
+
+"Yes. As I said then, I want a friend."
+
+"And I said----"
+
+"I know what you said. If you say it again, I shall begin to think I
+must have a chaperon for your proposed tea after all. Now you must go.
+I have heaps and heaps of housework to do. Also I must pack papa's
+portmanteau."
+
+I internally blessed Mr. Monk and his confounded portmanteau, then
+took my departure, as I had entered, by the middle window. As I passed
+out I could not help glancing again at the table whereon I had seen
+the glass eye. Miss Monk saw my inquiring gaze and came forward. "Have
+you lost anything?"
+
+I was more confounded than ever. "No--nothing," I said hurriedly.
+"Good-day," and I departed at top speed, entirely at sea as regards
+the true state of affairs. And yet, apart from the evidence of the
+cloak, the presence of the glass eye at The Lodge seemed conclusively
+to prove the guilt of Gertrude.
+
+On my way back to the inn I wondered if by any chance Miss Destiny had
+seen the eye. On reaching the house, it was not impossible that after
+my capture by Mr. Monk, she might have entered the drawing-room; in
+which case, being--as I had frequently found--of an inquisitive turn
+of mind, it was certain that she had caught sight of the object. It
+was even possible that she had taken the eye in order to find the
+secret hiding-place of the fortune. Miss Destiny was a miser; Miss
+Destiny had no great love for her niece, so the theft of the eye would
+appeal to her avarice and love of making herself disagreeable. And of
+course, she would know very well, that her niece could say nothing
+without getting herself into trouble.
+
+No sooner had this idea entered my mind, than I wheeled about and took
+the road to Miss Destiny's hovel, with the intention of asking
+questions. But these were not easy to formulate. If she possessed the
+eye, she certainly would not acknowledge the theft: if she did not, I
+might reveal my suspicions of Gertrude and thus would place a weapon
+in the little old lady's hand, which she would undoubtedly make use
+of. But in my hurried walk to my destination, there was no time to
+arrange what to say, so I determined to trust more or less to chance.
+And in this doubtful state of mind I arrived at the tin house.
+
+Miss Destiny herself opened the door, and explained that Lucinda was
+shopping in the village. She appeared to be her usual mincing self,
+and betrayed no uneasiness. I was invited into her sordid, shabby
+sitting-room, and she entered into a long complaint about her
+brother-in-law's treatment. "Walter is so very mean," lamented Miss
+Destiny, sitting down, "I believe he grudges Joseph coming to work for
+me."
+
+"Mr. Monk has engaged Joseph to attend to his own garden," I reminded
+her.
+
+"The Lodge garden is in good order," she snapped, "whereas mine needs
+a lot of attention. Walter might send the man along."
+
+"If you pay Joseph, Miss Destiny----"
+
+"Pay him," she interrupted with a shriek, and throwing up her hands,
+"my dear Mr. Vance, it is as much as I can do to keep bread in my
+mouth. I am reduced to this"--she glanced round--"which is by no means
+the abode of a gentlewoman. But Gertrude and her father would let me
+starve sooner than behave as relatives should."
+
+"Oh, no, no," I protested. "Miss Monk is extremely kind."
+
+"Have you found her so?" demanded the vindictive aunt.
+
+"I have found her charming," was my cautious reply.
+
+"Charms don't pay taxes, Mr. Vance. I suppose," she added abruptly,
+"that you intend to marry her. Oh, don't look so astonished, young
+man. I remember how you admired her photograph in Anne's house, and
+you didn't come here for nothing. Oh dear me, no."
+
+"I came here to learn all I could about the glass eye, so that I might
+trace the assassin of Anne Caldershaw."
+
+"Oh, indeed," Miss Destiny's sharp eyes twinkled wickedly, "and you
+haunt my niece in order to ask questions?"
+
+"Why not?" I ventured cautiously.
+
+Miss Destiny laughed significantly. "Why not indeed," she echoed,
+"it's my opinion that Gertrude knows much more about the glass eye
+than she dares to tell you, or anyone else."
+
+My blood ran cold, for the moment. Apparently this disagreeable old
+woman had seen the eye on the drawing-room table, and thence had drawn
+the very worst conclusions. I ventured on a bold stroke. "Do you mean
+to say that Miss Monk has the glass eye?"
+
+"I don't say that."
+
+"Then she has not the glass eye," I said impatiently, and drawing a
+breath of great relief.
+
+"I don't say that either."
+
+"Then what _do_ you say, Miss Destiny."
+
+"Nothing, except that you will be wise to go away from Burwain and
+give up all idea of marrying my niece."
+
+"Why?" I asked very directly.
+
+"Because--as I said--Gertrude knows something about the murder."
+
+"That is a serious thing to say, Miss Destiny. On what grounds do you
+make such an accusation?"
+
+She made no direct reply, but rocked to and fro, "I know, I know," she
+said, with a cunning look, and a malicious chuckle.
+
+I ventured still further on the dangerous ground upon which I was
+treading. "Have you seen the glass eye in Miss Monk's possession?"
+
+"No," she said, and her reply startled me, for I had made sure that
+she dared to speak thus freely from having espied the object on the
+drawing-room table, "I never said that she had the glass eye."
+
+"Then on what grounds----"
+
+"Oh, I don't wish to say anything," she interrupted.
+
+"Having said so much, you must say more," was my firm reply, "you have
+no right to make dangerous accusations without proof."
+
+"Gertrude herself can supply the proof."
+
+"I would not insult her by asking her to."
+
+"No," screeched Miss Destiny, jumping to her feet like a small fury,
+"because you are a fool. Every man who loves is a fool. And you love
+Gertrude. Heaven only knows what you see in her."
+
+"I see a lovely girl and an accomplished lady, a good daughter and an
+honorable gentlewoman."
+
+"Four people rolled into one," sneered the spiteful little creature,
+quivering with wrath. "She may be lovely in your eyes--I know what
+fools men are--but, good and honorable she is not."
+
+"Prove what you say," I cried, but she only trotted about the room,
+tremulous with anger and jealousy. I determined to enrage her still
+further, as if she completely lost her temper she might unexpectedly
+come out with all she knew. I was therefore pointedly rude. "The fact
+is, Miss Destiny, you are jealous of your niece's beauty."
+
+"Me!" she quavered, and her eyes flamed, "me jealous?"
+
+"Yes, you are also annoyed because your niece has Gabriel Monk's
+money."
+
+"Has she? If she has, she committed murder to get it."
+
+"That's a lie."
+
+"You forget, sir, that you speak to a lady."
+
+"I do not," I retorted, still carrying out my plan, "I am speaking to
+a jealous old woman who is trying to harm an innocent girl."
+
+This last speech brought about the desired result. "Innocent!" she
+cried, and stamped her foot, "if she is innocent, what was she doing
+at Anne Caldershaw's on the night of the murder."
+
+"She was not there."
+
+"Yes she was; yes she was; yes she was," chattered Miss Destiny,
+thrusting her angry face close up to mine. "I said nothing about it at
+the inquest, as I did not wish to get her into trouble. But now that
+you dare to say I am jealous of that--that minx"--she brought out the
+word with a gasp. "I shall speak out, and I dare Gertrude to
+contradict me. I arranged to meet her at Anne's house at five o'clock.
+I started on the previous day in the trap with Lucinda, and stopped
+the night with a friend at Saxham. Next day I went on, but owing to
+the state of the roads and the slowness of the horse I did not reach
+Anne's house until after the crime was committed. But Gertrude
+intended to go to Murchester, and thence walk to Anne's house on the
+day when the murder took place. I am sure that she was at Mootley at
+five o'clock to keep the appointment. And it was after that time that
+Anne was stabbed with the hat-pin. A hat-pin with a blue glass head,"
+cried Miss Destiny triumphantly. "I gave Gertrude three pins like that
+myself as a Christmas present last year. Now you see, she is guilty."
+
+It certainly looked like it, but I declined to admit even the shadow
+of a suspicion. "I don't see," said I, tartly, and controlling myself
+with an effort. "Miss Monk may have called at five o'clock and not
+finding you there may have returned to Burwain by the evening train."
+
+"Oh, did she," mocked Miss Destiny cruelly, "then what about the blue
+glass-headed hat-pin? What about her presence at Mootley about the
+time Anne was killed? What about the lady who stole your motor car?"
+
+"You can't prove the lady was Miss Monk?"
+
+"Yes I can. That man Giles said the lady wore a white cloak. I saw her
+with the white cloak myself. And Gertrude had such a white cloak."
+
+"Really," I said bantering, although these proofs of guilt made me
+tremble; "perhaps you recognized Miss Monk when the motor car nearly
+collided with your cart--I beg pardon--your trap."
+
+"No, I didn't recognize her," said Miss Destiny, sitting down
+sullenly, "It was darkish, and Gertrude was the last person I expected
+to see in a motor car. I saw that the lady had a white cloak, and knew
+my niece possessed one; but it never struck me that Gertrude was the
+driver, until I came to Mootley and heard that Anne had been murdered.
+The information about the glass-headed pin made me certain."
+
+"All this has to be proved," said I, after a nervous pause, for there
+was no denying that Miss Monk's position was perilous, "have you
+accused her?"
+
+"No, I haven't. I asked her why she didn't meet me at Mootley, and she
+said that she had decided not to go. A lie--a lie," cried Miss
+Destiny, leaping to her feet again, "she was there, and she murdered
+Anne."
+
+"And stole the eye, perhaps?"
+
+"I can't say that for certain. I only speak of what I know. But, as
+Anne was murdered for the sake of the eye--everyone seems to think
+that--I have no doubt that Gertrude has it."
+
+"Have you seen it in her possession?"
+
+"You asked me that before. I have not seen it in her possession. I
+only speak of what I know," she said again and looked dogged.
+
+There was a few minutes' silence. Putting together Miss Destiny's
+statements and what I knew about the eye and the cloak, it would seem
+that the proofs of guilt against Gertrude were overwhelming.
+Prejudiced as I was in her favor, and blinded, more or less by love, I
+could not help acknowledging that the evidence was dead against her.
+If Miss Destiny spoke out, and Gertrude was arrested, she would be
+hard put to prove her innocence. Only one thing remained to be done:
+to silence Miss Destiny, until Gertrude could explain herself.
+
+"Of course you will say nothing," I said sternly.
+
+Miss Destiny looked at me sulkily. "Of course," she asserted. "I don't
+love Gertrude; all the same I don't wish to see her hanged."
+
+"Not that word," I rose and put out my hand, wincing.
+
+"Hanged! hanged! hanged!" screamed the furious old woman, "you are so
+blinded by love, you fool, that you can't see her wickedness--the
+murderess."
+
+"She is not."
+
+"The thief."
+
+"She is not." I turned on my heel and flung open the door. Miss
+Destiny leaped to my side.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"I intend to see Miss Monk, and ask her to disprove your accusations."
+
+"She can't; she daren't."
+
+"We shall see," I snapped, and left the house, while Miss Destiny
+jeered and made mouths after me like a wicked foul old witch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+GERTRUDE'S DEFENCE
+
+
+As may be guessed, I passed a very perturbed four and twenty hours
+until my arranged interview with Miss Monk. Miss Destiny had not seen
+the glass eye in the drawing-room, and so far could prove nothing
+against her niece. I believe that, so far, she was speaking the truth,
+as if she had seen the eye, she would have only been too pleased to
+adduce its presence as a proof of Gertrude's guilt. But, as things
+were, what she knew was damning enough. She could swear to the girl's
+presence at Mootley on the evening of the murder, and to the ownership
+of the white cloak, worn by the lady who had stolen my motor car.
+Fortunately, from sheer shame, since Miss Monk was her niece, Miss
+Destiny promised to hold her tongue.
+
+In the face of what the old woman had said and that I already knew, it
+seemed certain that Gertrude was guilty. Miss Destiny could even
+declare that her niece had possessed certain blue glass-headed
+hat-pins, with one of which the crime had been committed. Then again
+Gertrude wished to get the money, which, after all, was rightfully her
+own. It seemed probable--on the face of it--that while waiting with
+Anne Caldershaw for Miss Destiny's arrival, she had tried to learn
+what the ex-housekeeper knew as to the whereabouts of the money. Anne
+may have boasted that the secret was locked up in her glass eye, and
+then--well, I shuddered to think of what took place. Nine people out
+of ten would have pronounced Gertrude guilty with the greatest
+promptitude: but I happened to be the tenth, and I hesitated to give
+an opinion. But then I was in love, and my decision was biassed.
+
+But I really could not believe that so lovely a girl was guilty.
+Besides, her demeanor was not that of a brazen criminal, and she had
+seemed really puzzled by my over-attentive gaze. Tossing and turning
+on my bed, I tried to see some ray of light, but all was utter
+darkness. The evidence was dead against Gertrude Monk, and her fate
+was in the hands of her vindictive aunt. Miss Destiny might hold her
+tongue for the time being, but it would take very little to set it
+wagging. And being a miser, she might try to blackmail her niece. My
+brain ached with trying to get at the truth. To Inspector Dredge it
+would have have been readily apparent; but in the face of stern facts
+I refused to believe the girl to be guilty.
+
+Then there was Giles. During the night I thought a good deal of Giles,
+whom I had met that very evening when I returned to the Robin
+Redbreast. He was remaining there for the night, and informed me that
+he had come over to Burwain that day in order to see Striver about the
+lease of the corner shop.
+
+"You see, Mr. Vance," said Giles, shortly before I retired to bed, and
+while we were in the bar, "my wife wants to have a shop of her own, so
+I thought I would get Mr. Striver to make over the lease of Mrs.
+Caldershaw's shop to me. My wife is set on having it, and I think Mr.
+Striver will agree to the terms I propose."
+
+"You have seen him, then?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I went to his house to-day and found he was at the Lodge,
+working in the garden. I sought him out there and we had a talk, just
+before Miss Destiny came to bother him. I went away then, and
+afterwards you came."
+
+"Oh," my mind swiftly ran over the events of the day, "then you were
+in the grounds of the Lodge before I arrived?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Vance," said Giles, readily enough. "Mr. Striver wasn't in
+the garden at the time, as he had gone round to the back of the house.
+I walked up to the front door and asked for him. The servant sent a
+message, and we were talking over our deal when the little old lady
+arrived. She spoilt the business, for the time being; but I saw Mr.
+Striver this evening, and we have arranged about the matter. My wife
+will have the shop."
+
+I thought a good deal about this conversation when in bed. Giles had
+been alone in the grounds of The Lodge and had gone up to the house to
+seek for Striver. Might he not have placed the eye on the table, since
+he could easily do so, when the middle French window was open. But
+then I had absolutely no reason to suspect Giles, as the glass eye
+would be meaningless to him. But stop! Would it indeed be meaningless?
+Certainly Mrs. Giles had denied that she knew about Mrs. Caldershaw's
+glass eye, but then she had admitted that the ex-housekeeper had said
+she would never die in her bed. In one way or another Mrs. Giles may
+have learned the secret of the hidden money, and thus Giles might have
+killed Mrs. Caldershaw to obtain the glass eye which was the clue. But
+after reflection I dismissed this theory as utterly ridiculous. Giles
+could not have gained possession of the hat-pin belonging--according to
+Miss Destiny--to Gertrude Monk; and certainly, having the eye, would
+not come over to Burwain to leave it in the drawing-room of The Lodge.
+Giles, on the face of it, was utterly innocent. Yet it was strange
+that he should have been in the grounds of the Jacobean house nearly
+at the time I had seen the glass eye, and that [it] had disappeared.
+If Giles had not placed it there, he might have taken it.
+
+"No! no! no! no!" I muttered in drowsy tones; "it's absurd. Giles has
+nothing to do with the matter. He merely came over to arrange about
+the shop. He did not place the glass eye there: nor did Striver. If
+Striver had possessed the eye he would have gained possession of the
+money. Besides, he was not at Mootley until the funeral took place.
+Mr. Monk! He's innocent enough, as he was in London when the crime was
+committed. Moreover, if he possessed the eye, he also would be in
+possession of the fortune. Gertrude is the only person to whom
+suspicion points. I shall insist upon a full explanation to-morrow. I
+alone can save her if she is guilty." And then I fell into a troubled
+sleep, reproaching myself for daring to doubt my divinity.
+
+Giles departed next morning before I arose, and I did not see him
+again. Haunted still by undefined suspicions, I regretted his
+departure, and determined later to look him up at Mootley. Of course,
+the mere idea of thinking that the respectable sturdy greengrocer was
+guilty seemed ridiculous, but in my anxiety to save Gertrude from
+danger I was willing to sacrifice anyone and everyone. To such a state
+does love bring the most just of mankind.
+
+By the midday post I received an impetuous letter from Cannington, who
+informed me that he had snaffled--the word is his own--a couple of
+weeks' leave. For the present he was staying with his aunt, Lady
+Denham, because Mabel wished it, but proposed, when I came up, to take
+rooms at a hotel, where he would--as he put it--be less tied by the
+leg. Then he went on to say that I had remained long enough at
+Burwain, and that if I did not come to him he would come to me, like
+Mahomet and the proverbial mountain. Bearing in mind Mr. Monk's
+aspirations for a titled son-in-law, this was the last thing I
+desired, so I arranged promptly in my own mind to accept his
+invitation. Besides, after my interview with Gertrude, in which I
+hoped to come to an understanding, there would be no need for me to
+remain at Burwain. Her story might send me farther afield in search of
+new clues.
+
+Reading between the lines of Cannington's letter, I saw that he was
+devoured with curiosity concerning Miss Monk. He knew that I had
+fallen in love with the portrait, and as he had always regarded me as
+a particularly staid, sedate personage, he naturally doubted if I
+would carry on so fantastic a romance. However, he evidently had his
+suspicions, since I chose to linger in a dull country village, and
+therefore was desperately anxious to see the lady who could thus move
+my elderly heart. As Cannington was a most pertinacious mortal, I
+wrote by the next post that I would be in London next week, and then
+would have much to tell him about the case. And as a matter of fact I
+did wish to have some safe person with whom to discuss matters. I
+could always rely on Cannington to hold his tongue, even if his advice
+did not prove to be particularly good. At all events the boy could
+always be relied upon to keep silent, which was more than I could say
+for many people I know. So to Cannington I resolved to confide the
+full tale of my discoveries, and--in the interests of my wooing--I
+ended my letter with a repetition of the fact that I was coming to see
+him. Had I not emphasized this the boy might have appeared the next
+day to make inquiries.
+
+After posting this letter I consulted with Mrs. Gilfin about afternoon
+tea, and that able old creature bustled about to some purpose. She
+arranged flowers in my sitting room, stoked the fire, dusted the
+furniture unnecessarily, and spread a truly gorgeous tea for my
+visitor. I protested that neither one of us could eat so many cakes
+and buns and jam and bread as loaded the table. Mrs. Gilfin--who had
+some idea of my state of mind--admitted with a beaming smile that love
+did spoil the appetite. But she objected to the presence of my second
+portmanteau in the sitting-room.
+
+"It do spile the looks of things," said Mrs. Gilfin; "why not put it
+in the bedroom, Master Cyrus?"
+
+"I have use for it here, Cuckoo," I answered, and so I had, for in it
+was snugly folded the celebrated cloak, which I proposed to show to
+Gertrude when the time came for explanations.
+
+At four o'clock all was spic and span, as the room was as comfortable
+as the afternoon tea was tempting. Miss Monk duly arrived--this time
+without Puddles as an escort--and looked more beautiful than ever in
+her plain dress. Poor girl, she nearly always wore the same frock,
+which showed how very short in cash Mr. Monk kept her. She should have
+been arrayed in silk attire, and I inwardly swore, when establishing
+her in a deep-seated armchair by the fire, that some day she should
+be, at my expense. Meantime I handed her a cup of tea, and piled her
+with thin bread and butter, much to Mrs. Gilfin's satisfaction. That
+good lady had looked in to see that we were comfortable. "Eat all you
+can, miss," urged Mrs. Gilfin, "you don't look as fat as you ought to
+be."
+
+Gertrude shuddered. "I don't want to grow fat," said she, laughing.
+
+"There's worse things than fat," said Mrs. Gilfin sensibly. "Lean
+people with wrinkles are never so nice as them without. If Miss
+Destiny had more flesh on her bones she be more popular," and after
+delivering herself of this dictum the landlady departed with a fat
+chuckle.
+
+Gertrude's face clouded when her aunt was mentioned. I noticed this
+and commented thereon. "You are not fond of Miss Destiny," I remarked.
+
+"I have little reason to be," she replied with a nervous air. "Aunt
+Julia----"
+
+"Is that her name?"
+
+"Yes. Julia Destiny--a strange name, isn't it? Well, then, she has
+always behaved harshly to me. Even when I was a child she never liked
+me, and since Uncle Gabriel left me this fortune she has scarcely been
+able to bear the sight of me. Then this morning----"
+
+"What about this morning?" I asked, seeing her hesitation.
+
+"Aunt Julia came to me and said all manner of dreadful things. Even if
+you had not arranged this afternoon tea, Mr. Vance, I should have come
+to see you. I need a friend more than ever."
+
+I privately thought--and I was right in thinking so--that Miss Destiny
+had been making herself disagreeable over the visit to Mootley, and
+perhaps had added threats. However I said nothing for the moment, as I
+wished Gertrude to tell her story in her own way. "Take some cake and
+another cup of tea," I murmured sympathetically, "then we can talk."
+
+Gertrude handed me her cup. "I can't eat or drink anything more, thank
+you, Mr. Vance. I want to speak seriously to you. No one can hear us,
+I hope?"
+
+I glanced at the door and window; both were closed. "No one can hear
+us," I assented, taking the chair opposite to her, "and you can depend
+upon my being secret about whatever you choose to tell me; you know
+that."
+
+"Yes." She looked straightly at me, and her royal beauty impressed me
+anew. "I have studied your character closely, so that I might be
+certain of making no mistake."
+
+"And you are satisfied?"
+
+"Perfectly." She glanced round again, then leaned back in her chair.
+"Listen, Mr. Vance, and don't interrupt me more than you can help, as
+it is difficult for me to tell my story clearly."
+
+"I am all attention," said I, leaning forward.
+
+"You know that I told you of the fifty thousand pound, which my Uncle
+Gabriel left me."
+
+"Yes, the fortune which is missing."
+
+Gertrude nodded. "Uncle Gabriel was a miser, and concealed his riches.
+My father has inherited the income and the property, but the fifty
+thousand pounds has been hidden away. When the will was read I learned
+that such a sum had been left to me, but its whereabouts could not be
+discovered. I searched through all my late uncle's papers without
+result. Then, about the end of July, I came across an old box in the
+attic filled with foolscap sheets covered with figures. Also there was
+some writing in the form of a diary, two or three loose sheets pinned
+together."
+
+"Have you the diary and the other papers?"
+
+"Yes; you can see them when you come to The Lodge. Meanwhile it is
+easier for me to tell you the contents, as the writing is extremely.
+crabbed. I learned that Uncle Gabriel had for years used the family
+income of five hundred per annum in purchasing diamonds."
+
+"Really! He could buy many valuable stones at such a price."
+
+"You forget that he had the income for forty years or thereabouts and
+lived like a pauper. He was always saving money and buying diamonds.
+At times--as the diary said--he went to London and Amsterdam and Paris
+and traded in stones. He turned over what he had bought, as a matter
+of fact, and in one way and another managed to accumulate fifty
+thousand pounds' worth of jewels."
+
+"Then the fortune, which is hidden, consists of diamonds?"
+
+"Exactly. In the diary Uncle Gabriel hinted that the jewels were for
+me, but that he mistrusted my father, and would put them safely away."
+
+"Why did he mistrust your father?" I asked, although I had a very
+shrewd suspicion of what the answer would be.
+
+The girl flushed. "Uncle Gabriel was never just to my father," she
+said in a low voice. "Oh, I know that papa has his faults, but his
+heart is in the right place. Papa has no idea of money: he is like a
+child; so Uncle Gabriel thought that if papa secured the diamonds he
+might squander their value."
+
+"What!" said I, significantly, "when they belonged to you?"
+
+She colored again. "I think papa believes what is mine is his. You see
+Uncle Gabriel died when I was about sixteen--five years ago--and he
+thought that if papa could lay hands on the jewels then that they
+would not come to me. He mistrusted papa."
+
+"And with very good reason," I murmured, too low for Gertrude to hear.
+Walter Monk, as I truly believed; would act exactly in the way his
+brother suspected he would.
+
+"What's that you say?"
+
+"Never mind. I understand that the diamonds were concealed so that
+your father might not be tempted. But surely your uncle intended them
+to come into your hands sooner or later."
+
+"Yes. The diary said that the jewels were hidden in a certain place."
+
+"What place?" I asked abruptly.
+
+"Ah, that was kept secret. But Uncle Gabriel talked about trusting
+Anne----"
+
+"Ah!" I said, rubbing my hands with satisfaction, "now we are coming
+to the gist of the matter. Any mention of the eye?"
+
+"No. You see, in the diary--it can hardly be called one--Uncle Gabriel
+only jotted down scraps of the scheme in his head. To make a long
+story short, I gathered that he had entrusted the secret of the
+whereabouts of the diamonds to Anne Caldershaw, as he had known her
+for years and esteemed her an honest woman."
+
+"I see; and she was not honest."
+
+"Don't you think so?"
+
+"No. Evidently she intended to tell Striver the secret, since she left
+him the glass eye in the will. He was to get the money, and then--I
+daresay--he could ask you to marry him."
+
+"Ridiculous," said Miss Monk, coloring.
+
+"Perhaps. Nevertheless I believe that such was the scheme of Mrs.
+Caldershaw, for she intended to enrich her nephew at your expense,
+hoping that you would marry him, and thus gain the benefit of what was
+rightfully your own. The idea of a marriage salved her conscience, as
+it were."
+
+"The idea is absurd. I would never marry a man like Joseph, although
+he is handsome and fairly well educated."
+
+"You know that he loves you."
+
+"Yes, I know," she replied, blushing, but in a somewhat cold tone.
+"Never mind: the thing--as I say--is absurd. But it might be as you
+say, Mr. Vance, that Anne had such a scheme in her head. However, you
+understand that I gathered from the so-called diary that she knew of
+the whereabouts of the jewels."
+
+"Yes. I know that. What did you do?"
+
+"I determined to go over and see Anne Caldershaw."
+
+"And did you?"
+
+"Yes." She looked at me nervously.
+
+"You were at Mootley then, when--when----"
+
+"No," she burst out fiercely. "Not though Aunt Julia swears I was."
+
+"Oh. You did not go to Mootley at all?"
+
+"Yes I did. I arranged to meet Aunt Julia at Anne's house at five
+o'clock. I got there before that time."
+
+"Then you were at Mootley on the evening of the murder."
+
+"I have never denied it," she said, cresting her head like a snake and
+looking haughty, "but I do deny that I was in the house when the crime
+was committed. I was not the woman who ran away with your motor car,
+whatever Aunt Julia may say."
+
+"Who was the woman, then?"
+
+"I don't know. I never set eyes on her."
+
+"Ah!" said I thoughtfully, "talking of eyes, was Mrs. Caldershaw's
+glass optic in her head when you spoke to her?"
+
+"Yes, it was. And remember, please, that I never knew--as it appears
+from your ingenious theory--that the secret was hidden in that eye. I
+came at half-past four, and went into the back room, where I talked
+with Anne. I related to her what I had discovered, and asked her to
+tell me where the diamonds were. She said she did not know."
+
+"She did not know," I echoed in utter astonishment.
+
+"So she said. She declared that Uncle Gabriel had given her a cipher,
+in which he had concealed the whereabouts of the diamonds. Anne could
+not read it herself, so she had no idea of where the jewels were."
+
+"Did you ask her for the cipher?"
+
+"Yes, I did. She refused to give it to me."
+
+"On what grounds?"
+
+Gertrude grew red and looked nervously into the fire. "I may as well
+be quite frank," she said, with an outburst of candor. "Anne really
+did wish me to marry her nephew, and said she would give me the cipher
+if I promised to marry Joseph. I refused, and then----"
+
+"Well, what then?" I asked impatiently, and indignant at the plot
+between the dead woman and the gardener to force Miss Monk into
+unwilling matrimony.
+
+"Then I heard a voice in the shop calling for Mrs. Caldershaw. She
+went away, and shortly afterwards returned to ask me to leave at once.
+There was someone who wished to speak to her, and she did not wish me
+to meet this person. Therefore she asked me to leave at once."
+
+"Did you know who this person was?"
+
+Gertrude hesitated. "I could answer you that frankly," she said, after
+a pause, "as I caught a glimpse of the person through the half-open
+shop door. The mere sight of this person sent me away, as I did not
+wish to meet----" Here she hesitated.
+
+"Him or her?" I asked inquisitively.
+
+"I would rather not say just now," she replied with reserve.
+
+"But you must say," I insisted. "Don't you see that this person,
+whether man or woman, may have been the one who murdered Mrs.
+Caldershaw."
+
+She grew pale. "I have thought of that myself," she said hurriedly,
+"therefore I refuse to tell you who the person was. If a certain
+contingency happens I shall speak out."
+
+"You won't tell me now?" I said, somewhat wounded.
+
+"No. Don't ask me to. Perhaps later on." She seemed greatly
+distressed. "You see it's a terrible thing for me to give the name of
+a person who might be accused of the crime. If this person was hanged,
+even if guilty, I should not be able to rest in my bed." She shuddered
+and burst into tears. "My position is very hard," she wailed.
+
+"But I can assist you if you will speak plainly."
+
+She shook her head. "I cannot speak plainer than I am doing. Later on,
+yes, later on, I may tell you, but just now I dare not--I dare not,"
+and again she began to weep.
+
+As it was evident that she had some strong reason to conceal the name
+of this mysterious person I did not press her further, although I was
+most anxious to learn all about the matter. Instead, I asked another
+question in soothing tones. "How did you leave?"
+
+"By the back door," said Gertrude, drying her eyes. "In that way I
+escaped coming face to face with the person in question."
+
+"But there is no gate out of the back yard by which you could escape.
+I examined the fence myself."
+
+"You did not examine it carefully enough. The gate is at the side of
+the house, and is exactly like the fence. When it is closed no one
+could tell that there was a gate. I expect that is why you overlooked
+it. Outside the gate, a path led amongst those elm-trees some little
+distance, until it came out on to the high road some distance down the
+slope. I went along the path, and on gaining the road I walked to
+Murchester, where I caught the half-past six train. So you see that I
+had nothing to do with the murder. I was horrified when I heard of it,
+and seeing the danger I was in of being suspected, I held my peace. I
+even denied to Aunt Julia that I had been to Mootley at all, saying
+that I had changed my mind."
+
+I recalled the conversation with Miss Destiny, and recognized that
+Gertrude was speaking the exact truth. "Mrs. Caldershaw was alive and
+well when you left her?" I asked, rising to drag out my portmanteau.
+
+"Quite well. What are you doing?"
+
+"I'll show you in one moment. Mrs. Caldershaw did not appear to be
+afraid of being killed?"
+
+"No; she was quite her usual self."
+
+"Did you take your cloak with you?"
+
+"My cloak?" She rose, much agitated. "How do you know that I wore a
+cloak?"
+
+"You must have had one to take such a journey," I said evasively.
+
+"Yes," replied Gertrude, somewhat reassured; "but--oh!" she gasped, as
+I displayed the garment I had produced from the portmanteau.
+
+"Yes," I said, unfolding it, "this is the cloak worn by the lady who
+took my motor car. I found it concealed in the field. And it is your
+cloak?"
+
+"Yes," she admitted with white lips, "it is my cloak."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+LOVE
+
+
+We stared at one another for quite sixty seconds: she standing
+white-faced and tongue-tied near her chair, I kneeling by the open
+portmanteau to display the cloak. When I would have spoken, she flung
+up a protesting hand to silence me.
+
+"How do you know it is my cloak?"
+
+"The embroidery in blue silk repeats the initials of your name."
+
+"And you found it in the field, where the motor car was stranded?"
+
+"I did, concealed in a hedge."
+
+"Where I concealed it?"
+
+"I don't say that."
+
+Gertrude stepped back and clutched at her breast. "Don't you believe
+that I am the woman who stole your car?"
+
+"No, I don't."
+
+"Don't you believe that I murdered Anne for the sake of the eye?"
+
+"No, I don't."
+
+"But on what ground"--she flung abroad her arms--"do you believe me to
+be innocent?"
+
+"I love you."
+
+"You love me," she repeated mechanically.
+
+I rose, still holding the cloak in my arms, and spoke vehemently. "Of
+course you must have seen for days that I love you. I came here
+because I fell in love with your photograph, and because I found
+this." I shook the cloak. "Yes! Can you not understand that I desired
+to save you."
+
+"To save me. From what?"
+
+"From arrest. Had anyone but myself found the cloak you would have
+been in prison long, long ago. But I told no one about my discovery. I
+hid the cloak in my portmanteau and came here to seek an explanation.
+I knew that you would be able to exculpate yourself."
+
+"Then you needed an explanation?" she asked in low tones.
+
+"Only that I might learn how to save you. I needed no explanation to
+assure me that you are innocent. For a moment I had my doubts, when
+Miss Destiny spoke to me, yesterday----"
+
+Gertrude interrupted with a cry and the scarlet blood flushed her
+cheeks swiftly. "Aunt Julia has been speaking to you?"
+
+"I have been speaking to Aunt Julia. Listen. I saw long ago that your
+aunt was not your friend, and I feared lest she should make mischief.
+I therefore called to see her yesterday, so that I might learn how
+much she knows. She told me----"
+
+"I know what she told you," interrupted Gertrude again, and flung back
+her head; "she came to me this morning, as I explained, and said all
+manner of dreadful things."
+
+"Such as----?"
+
+"I shall tell you, so that you may see I place myself entirely in your
+hands, Mr. Vance. Aunt Julia declared that I was at Mootley on the
+evening of the murder; that the hat-pin with which Anne was stabbed
+belonged to me; and that she saw my white cloak on the lady who drove
+the motor car, whom she believed to be myself escaping. She threatened
+to tell the police all these things unless I gave her half of the
+fifty thousand pounds. As if I could--as if I could!" wailed Gertrude,
+dropping into her seat. "I do not know where it is."
+
+"Why not learn from the glass eye?"
+
+She looked up astonished. "I have not got the glass eye."
+
+I stared in my turn. "Listen, Miss Monk. In the face of what you have
+told me, and of what your aunt has said, I believe that you are
+innocent."
+
+"Thank God for that," she muttered. "I could not have endured an
+accusation from you."
+
+On hearing this it was with the greatest difficulty that I prevented
+myself from taking her in my arms to kiss away the tears. But there
+was much to be cleared up before I could do that, as I wished her to
+understand my entire belief in her innocence. "But," I went on with
+emphasis, "while I know that your account of the interview with Mrs.
+Caldershaw is correct, I ask you to trust me--as I am your firm
+friend--fully."
+
+"I have trusted you fully," she said plaintively.
+
+"What about the glass eye? Are you sure that Mrs. Caldershaw did not
+allow you to carry it away when you left by the back door to escape
+meeting this mysterious person you speak of."
+
+"I am quite sure," said Gertrude, rising with great dignity, "that
+Mrs. Caldershaw's glass eye was in her head when I ran from her house.
+I was in such a hurry to escape meeting the person I mentioned that I
+left my cloak behind me, and also one of the blue glass-headed pins
+which fastened my hat. I can guess what happened. The assassin killed
+Anne with the hat-pin, stole the glass eye, and then assumed my cloak
+to escape, and perhaps," she added, with an afterthought, "to throw
+the blame of the crime on me."
+
+"And the assassin was this person whom you did not wish to meet?"
+
+Her hands trembled. "I think not: I hope not. I--I--I can't answer
+your questions, Mr. Vance. But why," she continued hurriedly, "why do
+you mention the glass eye in connection with my not having--as you
+declare--trusted you fully?"
+
+"Because I saw the very eye on the small table near the middle window
+of the drawing-room at The Lodge."
+
+She rose quickly and looked aghast. "You--saw-the--glass eye there?"
+she said slowly. "When?"
+
+"Yesterday." And I rapidly explained the circumstance. "I thought that
+you had the eye in your pocket when I came afterwards into the room
+with your father," I said, "and because I fancied Miss Destiny might
+have seen it, I went along, in your interest, to interview her. But
+from what she said I am convinced that you had concealed it before she
+could set eyes on it."
+
+"Stop!" cried Gertrude. "I did not conceal it. I never saw the glass
+eye save in Anne's head. If I had that eye you must think me guilty."
+And her eyes searched my face.
+
+"No," I said firmly; "I only thought that perhaps, not quite trusting
+me, you did not say that Anne Caldershaw had given it to you."
+
+"But she did not. I have told everything. You know the reason why I
+went to Mootley, and all that took place. I left Anne in good health
+and walked to Murchester to catch the train. Don't you believe me?"
+
+"Oh," I advanced towards her anxiously, "can't you see that I believe
+you entirely. Nothing will ever persuade me that you are guilty. All I
+ask is for absolute confidence, so that I can find the true assassin
+and free you from the danger of being denounced by your vindictive
+aunt."
+
+"I have given you my absolute confidence," she said with dignity, yet
+not unmoved by my declaration.
+
+"Not entirely. I do not know the sex or the name of the person from
+whom you fled at the corner shop."
+
+Gertrude turned swiftly towards the window. "I can answer no question
+on that point," she said in low tones.
+
+"Do you think this person had possession of the eye?" I persisted.
+
+"No! no! no! Ask me no more, I have told you all that I can tell you."
+
+"I will only ask one question, which--if I am to learn the truth about
+this case, and save you from arrest--I must have answered. Do you
+believe that the person in question is guilty?"
+
+She turned with a pearly-white face. "No, the person is not guilty. Do
+you wish me to swear it?"
+
+Her question was sarcastic, and I winced. "I believe your bare word,"
+I said somewhat coldly; "have I not proved my belief?"
+
+"Forgive me." In her turn she moved towards me, and laid a beseeching
+hand on my arm. "You are my best friend and indeed my only friend. I
+have no one but you to trust."
+
+"And love?" I asked, trying to catch her hands. "No! no!" she drew
+away; "not yet."
+
+"Yes, now. We must understand one another. I am not content with
+friendship, Gertrude, I want your love."
+
+"But--but it is so sudden!" she stammered.
+
+"Sudden. When I have been eating my heart out ever since I set eyes on
+your portrait? Oh, my dear, you can't believe that."
+
+"But--but," she made another objection. "There is so much to talk
+about."
+
+"We can talk all the easier when we understand one another. Surely you
+can see how devoted I am to you."
+
+"I know that; oh yes, I know that; indeed I do."
+
+"Then--" I held out my hands.
+
+"Mr. Vance?"
+
+"Call me by my name."
+
+"Indeed I can't--oh no--oh no."
+
+"Gertrude!" this time I became masterful and possessed myself of her
+unwilling hands, "is there anyone else?"
+
+"No; certainly there is not."
+
+"You don't love Striver."
+
+"The idea! I never heard such nonsense."
+
+"You are about to hear a good deal of nonsense. When a sensible man
+such as I am is in love, he talks his heart out."
+
+She did not draw away her hands, but laughed softly in spite of her
+fears and insistent troubles. "What you say can never be nonsense."
+
+"Then you love me?" I demanded persistently. "Yes; it's no use my
+denying it, I do love you."
+
+"Gertrude!" I caught her fully in my arms and, before she could turn
+her head aside, had pressed my lips to her own. She bore the embrace
+for one moment, then pushed me away, and retreating to the armchair
+sat down to cry softly. I followed. "Gertrude darling!"
+
+"Oh, what is the use of talking? How can we behave in this way, when
+all things are wrong? I do love you: it is useless to say that I do
+not. But my heart aches with pain."
+
+"Darling," I knelt beside her, "I am here to help you."
+
+"I know. I accept your help gladly, and I thank God for having sent a
+good man to help me."
+
+"Dear, don't think of me as good, I have no end of faults."
+
+"You would not be human otherwise, and for those faults I love you all
+the more, Mr.----"
+
+"Gertrude?"
+
+"Well then, Cyrus."
+
+"Dearest, my own; you will marry me?"
+
+"Some day, when----" She suddenly rose, and assumed a resolute air.
+"Cyrus, we must not fiddle while our Rome is burning. Tell me how the
+glass eye came to be at The Lodge?"
+
+I fell into her humor, as I saw that she regarded the position of
+things as far too serious to permit simple love dalliance. "My dear, I
+can't tell you unless----"
+
+"I never saw the eye," she interrupted impatiently. "Don't you believe
+me."
+
+"Yes. You never saw the eye. Was Miss Destiny in the drawing-room?"
+
+"No; we both went up to my bedroom when she came into the house, and I
+saw her out of the gate just before I returned to the house to meet
+you and my father. Why do you ask that question? Do you think my
+aunt----?"
+
+"Oh no. Miss Destiny did not arrive at Mootley until the crime was
+committed. She could not have got possession of the glass eye. I only
+wished to be sure that she had not seen it. As she did not enter the
+drawing-room, and as I have cross-questioned her, it is evident that
+she knows nothing on that point. Then there's Giles?"
+
+"Who is Giles?"
+
+"He is a man who lives at Mootley, and who caught me in the back room
+with Mrs. Caldershaw's dead body. He came over to see Striver about
+the lease of the corner shop, and was in the garden of The Lodge. I
+wondered if he might have placed the glass eye on the table."
+
+"Why should he? Does he know anything of the secret?"
+
+"I don't think so, and indeed he is an honest man, who would not harm
+anyone, my dear. I don't think Giles had the eye. Then Striver----"
+
+"Oh, Cyrus, he did not go to Mootley until the funeral. Do you suspect
+him?"
+
+"Not of the murder. But it is just possible that the eye was not taken
+by the assassin, and that Striver found it when he was in the shop
+hunting amongst the papers of his late aunt."
+
+"That is a new idea, since you have always believed that the murder
+was committed for the sake of the eye."
+
+"I don't know what to believe," I said wearily, passing my hand across
+my forehead. "Still someone must have placed the eye on the table, and
+why not Striver, who was working in the garden?"
+
+"I don't see--supposing your theory of the murder is true--how he
+could have got possession of the eye. It might be another one?"
+
+"I don't think so, Gertrude, for in the concave of the eye I saw a
+piece of white metal--silver, I fancy. On that, I truly believe, the
+hiding-place of the diamonds is indicated."
+
+"But if Joseph had the eye," she persisted, "although I do not see how
+he could have got it, he would use it to find the diamonds, and thus
+would not have placed it on the table."
+
+"You forget," I said quickly, "that the hiding place of the eye is
+indicated in cipher, according to Mrs. Caldershaw. Joseph might have
+found the eye in the corner house--I don't accuse him of murder--and,
+being unable to read the cipher, might have placed the eye on the
+table to implicate you."
+
+"Why should he, when he says that he loves me?"
+
+"For that very reason. He is jealous of me, and knows that you will
+never marry him. If by implicating you he could secure your arrest,
+and then could save you by confessing that he found the eye and placed
+it on the table, he might think you would marry him out of gratitude."
+
+"Oh, the idea is absurd," said Gertrude petulantly. "It's such a
+roundabout way of going to work. Let us ask Joseph?"
+
+"No," I said cautiously; "after all what I say is merely theoretical.
+If Joseph did not place the eye on the table, it is no use our letting
+him know that it was there. It would supply him with a weapon."
+
+"Then you don't think he----"
+
+"I can't say what I think; as I said before," I muttered, rising to
+pace the room, "if I were a born detective I might unravel this
+mystery. As it is I can't see my way to the truth."
+
+"If the truth is never known," remarked Gertrude, after a pause, "what
+does it matter?"
+
+"This much. You will always be in danger of being denounced by your
+aunt."
+
+"Not if I give her half the fifty thousand pounds."
+
+"Quite so, my dear, but there again, the truth must be discovered, as
+you can't gain possession of the money otherwise. Can you trust your
+servant?"
+
+"Eliza? Oh yes. She has been with us for years. She could not have
+placed the eye on the drawing-room table. What time did you see it?"
+
+"About three o'clock. I was about to enter the room through the middle
+window, which was open, and saw it suddenly. Then your father called
+me. When I returned in half-an-hour you were in the room and the eye
+was gone."
+
+"I had just entered the drawing-room a few moments before you came
+with papa," said Gertrude thoughtfully; "and I entered through the
+window, as I had been seeing my aunt out of the gate. The eye
+certainly was not on the table then. I should have seen it otherwise,
+as you did."
+
+"Well then, it was gone just before half-past three," I remarked, "and
+I saw it at the hour. When you were in the drawing-room before that
+time did you see anything?"
+
+"No," replied Gertrude impatiently, "I told you I never saw the eye at
+all, Cyrus. I did not enter the drawing-room after luncheon until
+half-past three o'clock. In the morning I certainly saw nothing."
+
+"Was your father in the drawing-room after luncheon?"
+
+"Not to my knowledge. He was pottering round the greenhouses. Surely
+you don't suspect papa?" and her color rose.
+
+"No; certainly not. Only I wondered if he had seen it."
+
+"He could not have seen it, else he would have picked it up to show
+me."
+
+"Well," I said, with a long-drawn sigh, for the mystery of the thing
+perplexed me, "I don't know who placed it there, or who took it away.
+Perhaps Striver removed it," I added with an afterthought.
+
+"Why should he?"
+
+"Why shouldn't he?" I echoed. "It's the very thing he wanted, since
+when I saw him at Mootley he was hunting for the eye to secure the
+money."
+
+"But you said----"
+
+"I know what I said," was my cross interruption. "So far as I can see
+there is no chance of learning the truth, as I dare not risk speaking
+to Striver lest I place a weapon in his hand. I don't know what to
+do."
+
+"Well, dear," said Gertrude, rising to take her departure "if you ask
+my opinion, I think it is best to leave matters alone."
+
+"But you will be in danger from your aunt's tongue."
+
+"I don't think so. I have promised to give her half the money when it
+is found, and she won't risk losing that, since she is such a miser.
+Anne is dead and buried, so let sleeping dogs lie."
+
+"And marry you?" I asked tenderly.
+
+"Yes, and marry me." She came forward, threw her arms round my neck
+and whispered: "Cyrus let us think of ourselves and our happiness, and
+leave this mystery alone."
+
+"Well," I shrugged my shoulders and slipped my arm round her waist, "I
+only wished to learn the truth in order to shield you, although I
+don't deny that the mystery of the case appeals to me. But if you are
+content to leave it alone and marry me, so am I. Let us relegate the
+murder of Mrs. Caldershaw to the already long list of undiscovered
+crimes."
+
+"And the cloak?" asked Gertrude, her eyes falling on it.
+
+"I'll wrap it up in a parcel, and you can take it back to hang in your
+wardrobe. Eliza knows that you have a white cloak, and will never
+connect it with the Mootley murder, even though she read an account of
+the case."
+
+"She has not," said Gertrude shaking her head; "she never reads any of
+the newspapers, and only knows that Anne is murdered. She may hear
+talk, of course, but I don't fancy she'll trouble her head."
+
+"Does she know that you went to Mootley on that day?"
+
+"No; I told her that I was going to London, for you see I did not wish
+my father to know that I had been to see Anne."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Can you ask, knowing what I said about my uncle's mistrust of my
+father. If papa knew what I had found out about the diamonds, and had
+gone to see Anne about the matter, he would--at the time--had I been
+successful, have insisted on my giving him the jewels. For that reason
+I kept my visit secret from everyone, save my aunt. I was forced to
+let her know, as she had arranged to see Anne on that day, and we were
+bound to meet."
+
+"Did you tell Miss Destiny about the diary?"
+
+"Yes. It was necessary for me to ask her if she thought that Anne
+would be honest enough to give me the cipher. She told me that she
+believed there would be no difficulty in getting it, as Anne, having
+nursed me, was devoted to my interest. But you see," ended Gertrude
+with a sigh, "Anne would only help me on condition that I agreed to
+marry Joseph."
+
+"Then you don't intend to let your father have the diamonds when they
+are found?" I asked, wrapping up the cloak in brown paper.
+
+"No, dear. Papa is the best of men, but he does not know the value of
+money, and if he gained possession of fifty thousand pounds would only
+squander it. The five hundred a year he has settled on me after his
+death, and he can't spend the capital. I shall give papa plenty of
+money within reason when he asks for it, and when the jewels are
+mine."
+
+"Oh, he'll ask for it right enough," I muttered cynically. "However,
+Gertrude, you must first catch your hare. We must search for the
+diamonds. It may be that they are hidden in the house."
+
+"No. It has been turned upside down without result."
+
+"I wish I had found time to glance at the cipher, which certainly must
+have been written on that piece of silver attached to the eye," I
+muttered regretfully. "However, it's too late now, nothing can be
+done."
+
+"Nothing," echoed Gertrude, taking the parcel from me and advancing
+towards the door. "Leave the matter alone, Cyrus, and let us be
+happy."
+
+I flew after her. "Gertrude, you are going without----"
+
+"Dear, I forgot." She paused to kiss me fondly, and then departed.
+
+After that I cared very little if the mystery were solved or not.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS
+
+
+So here I had reached the goal of my desires in a surprisingly short
+space of time. Truly the gods had been good to me, and in the most
+unexpected manner I had won the love of the sweetest woman in the
+world. And the mysterious murder of Anne Caldershaw--gruesome as it
+may seem--had been the main circumstance to bring about my triumph.
+But for the crime I should not have seen the portrait of my beloved,
+and but for her innocent connection with the same--whereby I was
+enabled to prove my honesty and good faith--I should never have gained
+her confidence. But to trust me she had to study my character closely,
+and having done so, had unconsciously fallen in love. When I offered
+to come forward as her champion my conquest was complete, and
+therefore Gertrude yielded. Truly an odd wooing.
+
+For the next two or three days we were completely happy. Mr. Monk,
+having departed, could no longer interrupt us at inauspicious moments,
+so we had all the golden hours to ourselves. Also the weather
+unexpectedly changed from autumnal greyness to a springlike delicacy
+of sunshine in a blue sky. It was more like May than the end of
+September, and the singing of the birds was echoed by our joyful
+hearts. We scarcely said a word about the Mootley crime, as we had
+tacitly agreed to abandon any search for the criminal. And indeed
+there remained no clue to lead to the discovery of the assassin. At
+times I had doubts about the mysterious person whose name Gertrude had
+so steadily refused to tell me. I felt sure that she was shielding
+someone, and could not think of any reason strong enough to make her
+do so. But I put the doubt from me when she smiled into my eyes and
+surrendered myself entirely to the happiness of the magic hour.
+
+Whether Miss Destiny guessed the truth I cannot say. She never came
+near The Lodge, as she only haunted it when Mr. Monk appeared on the
+scene, and then merely for the sake of getting what she could out of
+him. But as Lucinda was always shopping in the village, and the
+dwellers in Burwain were born gossips, Miss Destiny must have heard
+that her niece was receiving me at all hours and in all places.
+Knowing my infatuation, she would put two and two together, and the
+resultant four would prove to her suspicious mind that we had come to
+an understanding. But if she did arrive at this knowledge she made no
+sign. Perhaps she was content to wait events so long as her half of
+the fifty thousand pounds was safe. At all events she lay snug in the
+jungle which surrounded her tin hovel, like the malignant fairy she
+was.
+
+But the golden days came to an end, as golden days will, since an
+everlasting Paradise is impossible on earth. I was forced to keep my
+promise to Cannington and seek London, else he would certainly have
+put in an inopportune appearance. Of course in spite of his title and
+looks, and the possible support of Mr. Walter Monk--always supposing
+the two met--he could do nothing now, as Gertrude had solemnly
+promised to be my wife. All the same I did not want Cannington to come
+stumbling into Love's garden. Later on, when the first ecstasy of
+delight had passed away, I promised myself that he should be formally
+presented to my newly-captured Diana. But at the moment a duet was
+better than a trio, so I explained matters to Gertrude and put the
+Rippler in order for a spin to London.
+
+"But you won't remain long away, dear?" she asked me. "Promise me,
+promise me."
+
+I did promise her, with many a kiss, on the bare road between Burwain
+and Tarhaven. So far I had taken her in my car, and now it was
+necessary that she should return. Only the birds and sheep, the
+sailing clouds and the all-beholding sun, saw our embrace, so we gave
+ourselves up fully to the delight. The parting indeed was "sweet
+sorrow," as Shakespeare says, and only at the golden moment did I
+fully understand the feelings of Romeo.
+
+The day was balmy and sunny, the roads were dry, and the Rippler was
+on her best behavior, so the journey to London was extremely pleasant.
+I reached my West Kensington flat early in the afternoon. As I had
+telegraphed the probable time of my arrival to the caretaker's wife,
+who usually looked after my rooms, I found everything in good order.
+There was a brisk fire, a good meal, and a warm bath awaiting me, so I
+spent the next hour very pleasantly. Cannington had already been
+informed that I would call at Lady Denham's Grosvenor Square house
+about five o'clock, therefore I had ample time to get ready for the
+visit.
+
+After writing a few letters, and looking into my bankbook, I arrayed
+myself in the purple and fine linen of the West End--that is, I
+assumed a frock coat, grey trousers, patent leather boots, and all the
+paraphernalia of society. Then I sallied forth, and--giving the
+Rippler a rest--jumped into a taxi-cab. After the perfect quietness of
+the country the bustle and roar of the many-colored life in London
+streets rather appealed to me. I was quite sorry when the vehicle
+stopped at my destination.
+
+A stately footman took my hat and gloves, and showed me into the
+smoking-room, where Lord Cannington awaited me. The boy sprang to his
+feet and rushed forward to shake hands.
+
+"I'm so glad to see you, Vance," he said breathlessly; "how jolly well
+you look. I suppose"----He began to laugh, and could get no further.
+
+"Well," said I, sitting down and accepting a cigarette, "I presume
+your laugh means that I am engaged."
+
+"Good Lord, no! I don't go so far as that. But you went in search of
+the original of the photograph, and having found her, I can see that
+love has proved to be the elixir of life."
+
+"You are quite poetical, Cannington, and excessively complimentary."
+
+"Oh, rot! I'm only speaking the truth. You looked as hard as nails."
+
+I laughed. "I don't know, but what I am as soft as butter, so far as
+the heart is concerned."
+
+"Ah, that's the effect of love," said Cannington wisely; "that is, if
+you really are in love. I say, old chap, are you in earnest?"
+
+"So much so that I am engaged."
+
+"Engaged! Good Lord!"
+
+"Engaged to Gertrude Monk, who loves me as much as I love her."
+
+"Good Lord!" said Cannington again, and rose to his feet to say it. "I
+say, you haven't lost much time, have you?"
+
+"No. Circumstances precipitated matters."
+
+"But are you sure that you are wise, Vance. Remember. 'Marry in haste
+and repent at leisure.'"
+
+I laughed again. It seemed so strange that the boy should advise an
+elderly person such as I was. "It's all right, Cannington, I know what
+I'm about. You shall be best man."
+
+"Delighted, and--I say--you don't mind me having said what I did say.
+We're old friends, you know."
+
+"That's all right, boy. Sit down, and I'll tell you everything that
+has taken place since we parted at Murchester. But I must ask you to
+be secret."
+
+Cannington flushed. "As if I'd be such a bounder as to talk of your
+love affairs," he growled.
+
+"The love affairs in this case are merely a side issue, although
+important enough to me, boy. What I wish to explain is what I have
+discovered with regard to Mrs. Caldershaw's death."
+
+"Oh!" Cannington jumped up again, greatly excited. "Are you prying
+into that still?"
+
+"Yes. It is that case which led me into the engagement with Gertrude.
+But I have given up searching further."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I see no clue to follow. Moreover, Gertrude wishes me to stop
+looking into the matter. And after all, it is no use sullying our love
+with the sordid details of this crime. Yet, yet"--I rose in my
+earnestness--"Cannington, although you are years younger than I am, I
+intend to ask your advice."
+
+"Yes--that's all right. What is it?"
+
+"I shall tell you all I know, and then you can judge what I mean."
+
+The boy looked puzzled, but sat down again and lent an attentive ear
+to my recital. I walked up and down the room, telling everything in
+detail, for I really did wish to hear what he thought. Cannington was
+young, but shrewd, and took a common-sense view of things. Gertrude's
+refusal to tell me the name of the person who had driven her from the
+shop lingered in my mind, as I knew we could never be completely happy
+if there were secrets between us. Nevertheless, I could not reveal
+what she had said on this point to Cannington, as it was a matter
+entirely between ourselves. But I intended to tell him everything
+else, and then ask him what he thought of the position of affairs. He
+waited with a grave face.
+
+I therefore related all that I had discovered, beginning with the
+finding of the white cloak in the field, and ending with an account of
+the interview between Gertrude and myself, suppressing, as I have
+said, the fact that she withheld the name of the mysterious person.
+Cannington, with his eyes on my face, listened intently, and without
+interruption. He was acute enough to put his finger on the weak spot.
+
+"Who was the person who entered the shop when Miss Monk went away?"
+
+"I don't know," said truthfully, and glided into an easy explanation
+to preserve my secret. "Mrs. Caldershaw wished Miss Monk to leave
+without seeing the person, and therefore sent her out by the back door
+so hurriedly that she forgot the cloak and one of her hat-pins."
+
+"That's unfortunate," muttered Cannington, his eyes on the carpet;
+"perhaps this person killed Mrs. Caldershaw."
+
+I had Gertrude's assertion that this was not the case, but for obvious
+reasons could not impart the information to Cannington. "We can't be
+sure of that," I said smoothly.
+
+"We can't be sure of anything," insisted the boy thoughtfully, "still
+Miss Monk evidently left someone with Mrs. Caldershaw, and when you
+arrived on the scene Mrs. Caldershaw was dead. It seems to be that the
+lady killed her."
+
+"The lady? Why do you think that this person was a lady?"
+
+"Well, a woman, a female, what you will," he said impatiently. "She
+assumed the white cloak which was left behind in the kitchen, and ran
+off with your motor car."
+
+"And with the eye?"
+
+"Ah, I can't say I'm sure on that point," said Cannington musingly.
+"You see the eye turned up--so you say--at the Burwain house. I
+think----" He paused.
+
+"Yes; go on," said I encouragingly.
+
+He shook his head. "I don't know what to think, Vance. The whole
+matter is most mysterious and perplexing. Give me a night to think
+about the matter. It is strange," he said suddenly, "that Miss Monk
+wants you to leave the matter alone."
+
+"It is strange," I assented, and winced; "but there it is."
+
+"Well, let it remain so until to-morrow," said Cannington hastily.
+"To-morrow, when I've had a good think, I'll give you my opinion."
+
+I guessed what was in his mind, although delicacy prevented him from
+speaking plainly to me. Gertrude's conduct was suspicious, and he, not
+being in love with her saw the position more clearly than I did. I
+don't say he suspected her, but he apparently believed that she knew
+more than she chose to tell, and thus desired me to leave the case
+alone. In point of fact, Cannington fancied that Gertrude feared what
+I might discover if I pried further into the matter. Had he known, as
+I did, that she was withholding the name of the person who had called
+to see Mrs. Caldershaw, he might even have taken a blacker view of the
+matter. Of course, being Gertrude's devoted lover, and believing in
+her absolutely, I said nothing. All the same I felt a trifle uneasy
+myself, especially when I guessed what Cannington was thinking about.
+"The Queen of Hearts can do no wrong": so I amended the old saying.
+Nevertheless I fervently wished that Gertrude would be more frank with
+me. Only on perfect confidence would perfect love and perfect peace be
+established, to say nothing of perfect happiness.
+
+After a pause Cannington, having promised to give me his opinion
+to-morrow, said no more, but began to talk of Lady Mabel. It seemed
+that Mr. Wentworth Marr had returned to London, and was more attentive
+than ever. "He's coming here to-day to afternoon tea," said
+Cannington, glancing at his watch, "in half-an-hour, I expect he'll
+turn up. Aunt Lucy and Mab will be here also, and Dicky Weston."
+
+"Oh, Weston is attentive also?"
+
+"Well, he is. In some way he got an inkling that Marr was paying court
+to Mabel, so he suddenly appeared, and has been here morning, noon,
+and night. I shouldn't be surprised if he proposed soon."
+
+"Will Lady Mabel accept him?"
+
+"Oh Lord! who knows what girls will do? I think she will, and yet Marr
+is a fascinating sort of tame-cat man, with heaps of money, so you may
+be inclined to go 'nap' on him."
+
+"I shouldn't think a tame-cat man would suit your sister," I said
+dryly.
+
+"Wait till you see him," said Cannington with a yawn; "he's not my
+style, I must confess. By the way, Dicky's getting on splendidly with
+his airship and wants some quiet place to put it together."
+
+"To put it together. What do you mean, boy?"
+
+"It's in bits," explained Cannington, "and he wishes to cart the
+several parts to some peaceful part of the country where the putting
+together won't be overlooked. What about Burwain?"
+
+"Oh, you know it, Cannington. It's a dull little village between
+Gattlingsands and Tarhaven. Weston will find all the quiet he wants
+there. I suppose, like all inventors, he fears lest his especial
+secret for flying should be discovered."
+
+"Something like that. And yet he told me heaps about his airship. It
+seems to be a clever sort of business, although it has a gas bag. I
+believe in the heavier-than-air business myself."
+
+"What the dickens do you mean?"
+
+"Aeroplanes, you know!" and Cannington entered into a long
+disquisition on the difference between navigable balloons and those
+machines which strive to fly, birdlike, by power of wing alone. In the
+middle of his lecture--which I confess bored me--the footman entered
+to announce that we were wanted in the drawing-room. Thither we
+repaired, and were welcomed by Mabel, Lady Denham, and by a dark,
+untidy little man, in whom I recognized Dick Weston.
+
+Lady Denham was a stout, fair-haired, phlegmatic-looking person, who
+never troubled herself about anyone if she could help it. Therefore
+she allowed her niece to pour out the tea, and allowed Cannington and
+myself to hand round the bread and butter, which latter business, of
+course, was right enough. She aroused herself so far as to say that I
+was looking well, and reminded her of my poor dear mother. After that
+she relapsed into meditation, and devoted herself to making a regular
+substantial meal. There was nothing fairylike about Lady Denham.
+
+Weston was quiet also, and sat near Mabel, haunched up in his chair
+like a little gnome, but with eyes full of intelligence. He was not
+handsome, and being devoted to science--I suppose one would call
+airships science, although I can't be sure--his manner was preoccupied
+and dry. I wondered that a lively girl like Mabel could love such an
+uninteresting personage, but she did. I saw the flash of her eyes when
+they rested on his uncomely face and figure. But Weston was a decent
+little fellow, in spite of his exterior, and there was something in
+his dark face which always attracted animals and children.
+Nevertheless Lady Mabel, handsome, titled, and lively, seemed to be
+the last person to make him a desirable wife. I managed to get her
+into a corner after we had eaten and drunk sufficient. "Mabel, tell
+me, which one of your suitors do you intend to take?"
+
+"I can't say," she whispered back, and her lively face grew sad. "Of
+course I have known Dicky all my life, and he's a dear. But Mr. Marr
+is really a charming man. He will be here soon, and then you can judge
+for yourself."
+
+"Marry Dicky, Mabel. I'm sure you love him," I advised.
+
+"Yes, I do, and I really believe that he loves me. But I can't accept
+him unless he proposes. He's always in the clouds. Just look at him
+talking airships to Cannington instead of amiable nonsense to me."
+
+"Do you think you will be happy with him?"
+
+"Certainly. We get on capitally together."
+
+"But he's a solitary inventor, and you are fond of society. Isn't it
+rather the coupling of the quick and the dead."
+
+"What horrid things you say!" she retorted heatedly. "Of course, if I
+marry Dicky I shall shake him into a more companionable person. He's
+got plenty of money, and I daresay when he finishes this airship he'll
+come out of his shell. The only way I can make him talk is by making
+him jealous, so I am waiting for Mr. Marr to flirt with."
+
+"Then you are really using Mr. Marr as a stalking-horse to secure
+Dicky?"
+
+"Well, I am, in a way. But if Dicky will go on being so silly, and
+sitting as mum as an owl, I shall marry the stalking horse."
+
+"No, Mabel, don't do that; marry for love."
+
+"I can't afford to, you silly man. Cannington and I haven't sixpence
+between us. And what do you know about love?"
+
+"I know all about it," I whispered proudly. "I'm engaged."
+
+"Oh, Cyrus!" Her eyes shone like stars, and she gasped. "Who is she?"
+
+"A lady called Miss Gertrude Monk, who lives at Burwain."
+
+Before Mabel could ask further questions, Cannington's sharp ear
+caught the name, and he called out to me. "Vance, I have just been
+talking to Dicky here about Burwain, and he thinks it will be the very
+place to establish his workshop. Come and tell him all about it."
+
+"Bother!" murmured Lady Mabel "when I want to hear all about your love
+affair. Is she pretty?"
+
+"More than pretty. She is an angel."
+
+"Oh, all men say that of a girl before marriage: all except Dicky,
+that is. I have never managed to get him enthusiastic enough to call
+_me_ an angel."
+
+"Perhaps he thinks it goes without speaking, Mabel, and----"
+
+"Vance! Vance!" called out Cannington impatiently, and I had to obey
+the summons. Lady Mabel pouted and betook herself to the tea-table as
+Lady Denham requested, at the eleventh hour, a fresh cup.
+
+"Tell me all about Burwain, Vance," commanded Dicky in his pleasant
+voice.
+
+I did my best, and drew as vivid a word picture as I was able. When
+Weston heard of the absence of a railway station, of large tracts of
+common, and of the sparsity of population, he rubbed his hands. "It's
+capital," he remarked. "I shall go down next week and lease a portion
+of the common, outside the village. Then I shall run up a high fence,
+and take down by rail all the parts of my machine. It won't take long
+to put together. Then we can all take a fly to the moon."
+
+"Not me," said Mabel firmly. "I don't want to be smashed up."
+
+"That isn't a compliment to my invention," said Dicky hotly, "but I
+suppose you'll come down and see me start?"
+
+"That means I shall come down to say good-bye," she replied smiling.
+"Oh, Dicky, you're a dear boy when you are sensible: but this airship
+rubbish----"
+
+"Mabel, I thought you admired my airship?" he expostulated
+indignantly.
+
+"How can I, when I have never seen it. Besides, a woman never admires
+anything that takes the attention of a man off herself."
+
+"What nonsense! I'm always thinking of you." Mabel blushed and laughed
+skeptically. "Am I to believe that, Dicky?"
+
+"Of course," and then Dicky, in spite of the presence of three other
+people, might have gone on to say much more--for he really seemed to
+be warming to a proposal--when Lady Denham sat up and sighed.
+
+"You boys will have to go away," she said in her soft, slow voice; "we
+have to go out to dinner to-night and to the theatre afterwards, and
+then to an At Home. I'm sure I would much rather rest in my bed."
+
+"Then why don't you, Aunt Lucy?" asked Cannington bluntly.
+
+"My dear boy," she said reprovingly, "I must take Mabel out and give
+her some entertainment. Besides, I have made up my mind to get her
+married."
+
+"Married," cried Dicky indignantly.
+
+"Of course. Mabel isn't cut out for an old maid."
+
+"Perhaps Dicky thinks that I am," said Mabel, looking slyly at the
+untidy inventor; "that is, if he ever thinks of anything but
+airships."
+
+"I think of no end of things," said Weston rather crossly, "and I
+don't see why you are in such a hurry to get married."
+
+"I am not in a hurry."
+
+"Really," said Cannington uneasily, "this conversation is growing
+personal."
+
+"We all belong to the family here," said Lady Denham wearily. "I look
+on Cyrus as a son. His mother and I were at school together. A very
+charming girl she was, too."
+
+"Is Dicky one of the family?" asked Mabel, with a glance at the
+inventor.
+
+"Of course I am," he said hotly, for Mabel seemed to be rousing him
+out of his absent-mindedness, "haven't I known you and Cannington for
+years?"
+
+"I don't think we have ever known you," said Cannington with a laugh,
+"you are always in the clouds."
+
+"As an airship inventor should be," said I pointedly. "Airship," said
+Lady Mabel teasingly, "it's nothing but a gas balloon."
+
+"It isn't," snapped Dicky, jumping up, greatly excited by this insult
+to his pet invention; "when the works are established at Burwain you
+come down and you will see exactly what I mean."
+
+"Oh, I shall come to Burwain with pleasure," said Mabel, sending a
+look in my direction. "I am very anxious to go to Burwain."
+
+"Really," said Weston, and his cheeks flushed. After all, it appeared
+as though Cannington had overrated Dicky's absent-mindedness, for he
+was singularly alert and watchful. In my opinion he looked upon Lady
+Mabel Wotton as his own especial property, and therefore was not
+troubling himself to make a too impulsive proposal. Perhaps he was
+waiting to launch his airship before launching himself on the sea of
+matrimonial troubles. But he said no more, although the flush spoke
+volumes, for Lady Denham struck in quietly, in her placid voice.
+
+"I thought Mr. Marr was coming to tea," she said, looking round
+slowly.
+
+"I believe he's entering the house now," said Cannington, with the air
+of a listener. "I heard a motor drive up."
+
+"A charming man," said Lady Denham lazily, "and devoted to Mabel."
+
+"Oh, is he?" growled Weston, darting an angry look at the girl, which
+she sustained with a sweetly unconscious air. "He must----"
+
+Weston appeared to be doomed to interruption, for just as he was
+beginning a diatribe on his rival, the door opened and a footman
+announced: "Mr. Wentworth Marr" in grandiloquent tones.
+
+A man entered, and I gasped, as well I might. Mr. Wentworth Marr of
+London was none other than Mr. Walter Monk of Burwain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+AN EXPLANATION
+
+
+The little gentleman minced into the room, smiling and bowing. As I
+stood in the shadow, removed from the strong light of the electrics,
+he did not catch sight of me when he first entered. Exactly as he
+behaved at Burwain, so did he behave in London--that is, as a specious
+humbug. Of course he looked as though he had just been taken out of a
+bandbox, and his _petit-mâitre_ air was more pronounced than ever.
+With the assurance of a man accustomed to attention, he made a tour of
+the circle.
+
+"Lady Denham, you are looking more charming than ever. Lady Mabel, the
+good wine of your beauty needs no bush to advertise its perfection.
+Cannington, I am delighted to see you again. Mr. Weston "--this last
+name was pronounced less effusively--"I trust the airship stocks are
+rising. Ha! ha!" then he tittered at his small joke, made a
+comprehensive bow, and looked at me.
+
+I quite expected to see him turn pale: I half expected to see him fly
+from the house where he was sailing under false colors. But I had yet
+to learn the complete self-possession of Mr. Walter Monk, alias Mr.
+Wentworth Marr. He might have foreseen the meeting, so coolly did he
+eye me through his _pince-nez_. The tables were turned with a
+vengeance, for I felt more like the culprit than did Mr. Monk.
+
+"This is our oldest friend," said Mabel, and unless she had spoken I
+do not know how the little traitor would have acted, "Mr. Cyrus
+Vance."
+
+"The dramatic author, I believe," remarked Mr. Monk--it is just as
+well to call him by his true name to prevent confusion--and bowed
+politely.
+
+"Yes," said I, with a cool smile. There was no reason at that moment
+why I should denounce the little man, and he played his comedy so
+deliciously that, from sheer admiration of his impudence, I felt
+compelled to take a judicious part in the same. "I am happy to meet
+you Mr.--er--er----"
+
+"Marr, old chap," put in Cannington, quite unaware that anything was
+wrong.
+
+"Yes, of course, Mr. Marr."
+
+"Thank you," observed the fraud with a bow, "you flatter me, Mr.
+Vance."
+
+He was--as I have said--as cool as a cucumber, to all outward
+appearances. Nevertheless, as he turned sideways to answer a question
+put by Lady Denham, I saw the perspiration bead his forehead. I knew
+that he was controlling himself with a great effort, although he never
+turned a hair. He was evidently taken aback by my complete calmness,
+yet it relieved his mind when he saw that I did not intend to make a
+scene. Yet, had I denounced him he undoubtedly would have been
+prepared with a crafty explanation, for he was too clever a schemer to
+leave anything to chance. And as I guessed, my chance observation that
+I knew Cannington had placed him to a certain degree on his guard.
+
+With wonderful self-control he spoke to Lady Denham, and laughed with
+Mabel, and deftly led the conversation on to theatrical topics. When
+it became general he strolled over to me in a light and airy manner,
+until he was at my elbow. "And when are we to see a play at the West
+End by Mr. Cyrus Vance?" he asked gaily, dropping his voice
+immediately at the end of the question to whisper: "Explanations when
+we leave."
+
+"Oh," said I loudly, and replying to his public inquiry, "I hope next
+year will see me successful as the author of a comedy." Then I in turn
+dropped my voice: "Count on my silence."
+
+Monk drew a long breath of relief, but went on with his comedy. "I
+hope you will put me down for a box," he said effusively; "I am a
+great admirer of the drama."
+
+"You shall be on the free list, Mr. Marr," I said, with ostentatious
+gush.
+
+The whispered words had not been heard by anyone in the room, so Mr.
+Marr and I understood one another thoroughly without anyone being the
+wiser. I half fancied Cannington's observant eyes might have seen our
+byplay and his sharp ears might have overheard: but for once he seemed
+to have missed his opportunity. Shortly Mr. Monk, more at ease, was
+conversing gaily on the news of the day. Lady Denham seemed to favour
+him, but Mabel had a contemptuous look on her face several times when
+he addressed her. I felt certain that only his supposed wealth
+attracted her, and that she had no respect for his tame-cat antics.
+And the cream of the joke was, that Mr. Walter Monk, passing himself
+off as Mr. Wentworth Marr, had only five hundred a year. I could not
+help giving vent to an audible laugh as the humour of the situation
+struck me.
+
+"Why do you laugh, Cyrus?" asked Mabel, turning suddenly.
+
+"I have thought of a good joke for a comic scene in a drama" said I
+grimly.
+
+"May we hear it?" asked Mr. Monk audaciously, for he must have guessed
+the reason of my unseasonable merriment.
+
+"Certainly not, sir. When you pay your money in the stalls you shall
+hear the joke delivered on the stage."
+
+"I hope it's a good one," said Cannington scoffingly.
+
+"It's as funny a joke as I ever heard of," I replied cheerfully, and
+my eyes sought those of Mr. Monk significantly.
+
+"I shall look forward to hearing it," he said, bowing politely, "and
+perhaps--as I know several of the managers--I may be able to assist
+you in getting your masterpiece staged. My card," and he passed along
+a piece of pasteboard, which was inscribed: "Mr. Wentworth Marr, 3
+Stratford Street, St. James's." "I am in rooms there, Mr. Vance, as I
+don't intend to take a house until I can find a lady to preside at my
+dinner-table."
+
+Weston scowled at this, and Lady Denham smiled benignly. "Oh, you
+millionaires are so modest," she said, in her slow, cool voice, "why,
+you have a country house in Essex, a shooting-box in Scotland, and a
+villa at Nice."
+
+With tremendous audacity the fraud bowed as each place was mentioned.
+"I hope to receive you in them all, dear lady. Mr. Vance also, I
+trust, will honor me with his company."
+
+"Oh, I'll come and see you with pleasure," said I grimly. Mr. Monk
+impressed me as a kind of Casanova, so matchless was his impertinence.
+I wondered how an honorable girl such as Gertrude undoubtedly was,
+came to have so scheming an adventurer as a father. I was also puzzled
+to think why Mr. Monk, whom I knew to be almost penniless, should wish
+to marry a pauper aristocrat like Lady Mabel Wotton. But as yet I was
+not in a position to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and had to
+await enlightenment from the arch-rogue himself.
+
+"I just looked in, my dear ladies," said Mr. Monk, accepting the title
+of millionaire quite complacently, "to invite you to a box at the
+Curtain theatre early next week--Tuesday is the day, to be quite
+precise. There is a new play, which I think you will enjoy, Lady
+Denham."
+
+"Delighted," she yawned. "I like going to the theatre. One can sit
+still all the time and say nothing."
+
+"The performers on the stage say all that is to be said," replied Mr.
+Monk, smiling suavely. "Lady Mabel, may I count on you?"
+
+"Certainly," she answered swiftly, with a sly glance at the scowling
+Weston.
+
+"And perhaps Lord Cannington----?"
+
+"Thanks, no, Mr. Marr, I have to go back to Murchester. Leave's up."
+
+"That's a pity. Mr. Vance?"
+
+"If I am in town I shall be delighted," I answered mildly, and
+wondered more than ever at the audacity of the little man. He knew
+that I could expose him as a fraud, and must have been puzzled to know
+why I did not, yet he had the hardihood to drag me into his schemes of
+posing as a millionaire.
+
+"Then that is all settled. And now," he added, making a comprehensive
+bow, "really and truly I must take my leave. Perhaps Mr. Vance, I can
+give you a lift in my motor?"
+
+"You are really too good," I replied, accepting promptly, and with
+scarcely a repressed chuckle.
+
+"But I say, Vance, I want you to go to dinner at the Savoy with me,
+and afterwards to the Empire," cried Cannington, catching my arm,
+while Mr. Monk was shaking hands and taking his leave.
+
+"My dear boy, in any case I must go home and dress. Let us change the
+dinner into a supper at the Savoy, and I'll come here at nine o'clock
+to accompany you to the Empire."
+
+Cannington was satisfied with this alteration, and nodded. Then, in my
+turn, I took leave of the ladies and departed in the company of my
+proposed father-in-law. At the door a really magnificent motor, far
+surpassing my machine, was waiting, a brougham motor, with a chauffeur
+and a liveried footman. How Mr. Monk contrived to live in this style
+on five hundred a year I could not conceive: the machine alone must
+have cost three times the amount of his entire income. Then, with
+indignation, I thought of my dear, uncomplaining girl at Burwain,
+with her one poor frock and her touching belief in the honesty and
+kind-heartedness of this little villain.
+
+When we were safe in the motor and the footman had received his orders
+to take the vehicle "Home!"--to Strafford Street, no doubt--Mr. Monk
+made himself comfortable, then patted my knee in a most amiable
+manner. "Very good indeed, my dear sir, very good indeed," he said
+suavely, and in a most self-controlled manner, "you kept my little
+secret in a way worthy of a man of the world."
+
+"Thank you. I am waiting for an explanation now," I said dryly.
+
+"Do you think I owe you one?"
+
+"I am of that opinion, Mr. Monk."
+
+"Hush!" He glanced anxiously through the glass at the backs of the
+footmen and chauffeur. "Here, in London; I am Mr. Marr."
+
+"Mr. Wentworth Marr," I said mockingly. "May I ask why?"
+
+"I do not see," he said smoothly, "that you have any right to ask
+questions concerning my private business."
+
+"I must correct you there," I answered hotly. "Lady Mabel Wotton, her
+brother, and Lady Denham are friends of mine. I do not wish to see
+them deceived, Mr.--er--er--Wentworth Marr."
+
+"That is very creditable to your heart, Mr. Vance. But I fail to see
+how I am deceiving them."
+
+"You wish to marry Lady Mabel?"
+
+"Is that a crime? I am a widower, and am free to take another wife."
+
+"Not under the pretence that you are a wealthy man."
+
+"How do you know?" asked Mr. Monk, smiling politely, "that I am not a
+wealthy man, Mr. Vance?"
+
+"Pshaw, man!" I rejoined heatedly, for his cool insolence was getting
+on my nerves. "You have a life interest in five hundred a year and a
+tumbledown house with a few acres of land at Burwain."
+
+"So far as you know, Mr. Vance, those are all my possessions, but when
+we reach my rooms," he leaned forward and peered through the misty
+glass, "we are nearly there now, I am glad to say, you will have an
+explanation which will astonish you. Had you recognized me when at
+Lady Denham's----"
+
+"I did recognize you."
+
+"Had you denounced me, I should have said," he went on pleasantly, "I
+should have made the explanation then and there."
+
+"Ah!" said I meaningly, "I thought my chance mention of Cannington's
+name at Burwain forearmed you."
+
+He nodded, and chuckled in his infernally oily manner. "It was just
+possible, seeing that Lord Cannington and Lady Mabel, to say nothing
+of Lady Denham, were our mutual friends, that we might meet, so I made
+ready. I certainly did not expect to meet you quite so soon, however.
+Tell me," he glanced sideways at me curiously, "why did you not
+address me by my real name?"
+
+"I remembered that you were Gertrude's father."
+
+"How lucky--for me," said Mr. Monk sarcastically. "Julia Destiny
+hinted that you were in love with my daughter."
+
+"She didn't hint enough. I am _engaged_ to your daughter."
+
+"Without my consent."
+
+"I ask it now."
+
+"Then you shall not have it."
+
+I laughed. "Your consent matters very little, Mr. Monk."
+
+"Marr, I tell you, Marr. And Gertrude will never marry you without my
+permission. You may be sure of that."
+
+"I am not at all sure of it. She loves you better than you deserve,
+but when she finds that you are keeping her in poverty at Burwain,
+while you live in splendor in London, and under another name, which
+looks fishy, will she continue to regard you as the perfect father?"
+
+Mr. Monk moved uneasily in his seat. "Here we are," he said, when the
+car stopped in a somewhat dark street; "in my rooms I can explain. And
+in any case I am obliged to you for carrying off the situation so
+well. Not that I was unprepared, had you driven me into a corner. But
+as a gentleman, I do not like stage melodrama in private life."
+
+"Yet you make ready for every opportunity to exercise it," I retorted,
+as the footman opened the door. "Your explanation----"
+
+"Will take place in private," he said sharply, and we alighted. The
+motor departed hastily--to the nearest garage, I suppose--and Mr. Monk
+ushered me up a flight of well-lighted stairs. "These are my
+quarters," he said complacently, and I was shown into a really
+splendid hall, perfectly decorated.
+
+It is useless to describe the rooms in detail, but Mr. Monk had done
+himself full justice in the way of art and comfort. We went into a
+Moorish smoking-room, which reminded me of Cairo, and I accepted
+coffee and cigarettes. Perhaps Mr. Monk had some hazy idea connected
+with the Eastern decorations that, having partaken of his bread and
+salt, I would not betray him, for he pressed tobacco and Mocha on me
+very assiduously. I took all he offered, but reserved my private right
+of judgment. To save Lady Mabel from this fraudulent adventurer by
+denouncing him was not a betrayal in my eyes. The sole thing that had
+prevented me stripping him of his fine feathers hitherto had been the
+undoubted fact that he was Gertrude's father. And so I had told him in
+the motor.
+
+"You see that I am comfortable here," said Mr. Monk, who was smoking a
+very fine cigar, "but I beg leave to contradict you when you say that
+I do not give my daughter sufficient money. Gertrude has whatever she
+asks for, and, being fond of the simple life, is quite content."
+
+"Pardon my contradicting you, but, thinking that you have but five
+hundred a year, and knowing your luxurious tastes, Miss Monk denies
+herself all, save the necessaries of life, so that you may have more
+money to spend. Did she know you were a millionaire----"
+
+"I am not a millionaire," said Monk, snapping for the first time, as
+hitherto he had kept his temper in a most aggravating manner.
+
+"I understood Lady Denham to say that you were," I reminded him
+politely.
+
+"Like all women, Lady Denham exaggerates. I have a good many
+thousands, but I cannot call myself a millionaire."
+
+"And the house in the country----"
+
+"In Essex, remember. That is true enough."
+
+"Oh, yes, though it can hardly be called an estate. But the
+shooting-box in Scotland?"
+
+"I rented one last year for a time."
+
+"I see, you saved the situation in that way. And the villa at Nice?"
+
+"A friend of mine lends me his. I can ask anyone there."
+
+"And apparently intend to pass it off as your own."
+
+"No," he said, smiling graciously, "you are mistaken. It is true that
+I asked Lady Denham and Lady Mabel to Nice. I mentioned the villa, but
+I did not declare it was mine. They hastily concluded that it was."
+
+"From what you left unsaid, I presume. Well, and your change of name?"
+
+"That has to do with my money. A distant cousin of mine died three or
+four years ago in Australia and left me nearly one hundred thousand
+pounds on condition that I took his name. I complied with the
+necessity in a legal manner, without letting my daughter know, and now
+enjoy the money. I am quite rich enough to marry Lady Mabel if she
+will have me."
+
+"That may be. But when she learns that you have a daughter as old as
+she is, I doubt if she will accept you. Particularly, as----"
+
+"I know what you would say. Particularly as that Weston man loves
+her."
+
+"Not quite that, Mr. Marr. Particularly as she loves the Weston man.
+But may I ask why you keep your daughter in ignorance of your change
+of name and your possession of wealth?"
+
+"Listen," he said, throwing away his cigarette. "I inherit five
+hundred a year from my late brother--that is, as you say, I have a
+life interest in it. After my death it goes to Gertrude. As a matter
+of fact she enjoys it now, as it goes to keep up The Lodge at Burwain,
+and pay for her necessary needs. That she chooses to dress plainly and
+live plainly is not my fault. The money is to her hand when she wants
+it. Under these circumstances, since she has all she requires, I do
+not see why she need know that I live a different life in London, as
+she would not join me here if I offered to take her. On my part, I am
+a man still young, and I wish to marry again, since I am well off.
+Why, then, should I encumber myself with a grown-up daughter?"
+
+"I can't answer that question, as I don't quite follow your eminently
+selfish reasoning. But as it is I propose to take charge of your
+grown-up daughter. Then you can do what you like, so long as you don't
+marry Lady Mabel under false pretences."
+
+"You will tell Lady Mabel?"
+
+"Yes, and Cannington also. I should not be surprised if he
+horsewhipped you."
+
+Mr. Monk winced. "I shall take my chance of that," he said bravely
+enough, and to do him the justice he was no coward so far as flesh and
+blood was concerned. "But suppose I get ahead of you and explain
+myself."
+
+"In that case Lady Mabel will not marry you."
+
+"It's probable, although, beyond the fact that I forgot to tell her of
+my change of name, I have done nothing wrong."
+
+"Nothing wrong, when you masquerade----"
+
+"I tell you I don't masquerade," he cried, with sudden heat, and
+springing to his feet; "my name has been legally changed and the money
+is mine by right. I really am, under an Act of Parliament, Mr.
+Wentworth Marr. I daresay it was vanity on my part to lessen my years
+by not confessing to having a daughter of Gertrude's age, but that is
+not a crime. But you are not going to blackmail me, Mr. Vance, so
+don't think it.'
+
+"I don't propose to. I simply intend to tell Cannington and Lady Mabel
+the truth. Then they can deal with the situation."
+
+Monk snapped his delicate fingers. "Tell them the truth by all means,"
+he said derisively; "it's bound to come out sooner or later. Striver
+knows that I appear in London as Marr."
+
+"Striver, the gardener. How did he learn?" I asked, taken aback.
+
+"Ah," sneered the little man, "you don't feel quite so certain that
+you hold the keys of the situation, do you, Mr. Vance? Yes, Striver
+knows. He saw me in Piccadilly when I was getting out of my motor, and
+went to ask my chauffeur questions?"
+
+"What sort of questions?"
+
+"About my possessing a motor, I suppose. Striver knows my income, and
+didn't see how I could afford such a machine. Also he has the
+impudence of old Nick himself. At all events, he learned from my
+chauffeur that I was Marr, and, thinking something was wrong, as you
+did, he learned my address and had an interview. To prevent his
+telling Gertrude I was obliged to shut his mouth and confess all."
+
+"How did you shut his mouth?" I asked hastily.
+
+"I intimated," said Monk coolly, "that if he could get money enough,
+and went to school to improve his education, he could marry Gertrude."
+
+"What!" this time I sprang to my feet, and a fine rage I was in, "you
+dared to make a bargain with that fellow."
+
+"I had to shut his mouth," said Monk sullenly, and sat down.
+
+"So he lives in a fool's paradise. You don't suppose that Gertrude
+would marry Striver?"
+
+"I never thought so for one moment, no more than she would marry you."
+
+"She is going to marry me," I insisted, at white heat.
+
+"Nothing of the sort," said the little man obstinately; "now that you
+have learned the truth, I am not going to be under your thumb. I shall
+give up any idea of marrying Lady Mabel. I shall bring Gertrude to
+London and I shall marry her to Lord Cannington."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort."
+
+"Who will stop me?"
+
+"There is no stoppage in the matter of the kind you mean. Whether I or
+your own self tell Lady Mabel the facts of the case matters very
+little. But when the truth becomes known, she will not marry you, and
+Cannington, who is my best friend, will not marry Gertrude. He would
+not even admire her, unless I gave him permission, since he knows that
+she is my promised wife."
+
+"Who told him that?" asked Monk wrathfully.
+
+"I did. It is true. Gertrude is going to marry me, and you can do your
+best to prevent it. And another thing, Mr. Monk, or Marr, or whatever
+you choose to call yourself, you had better confess the truth at once.
+Weston is going to set up his airship factory at Burwain, and Lady
+Mabel is bound to go down and see him. You will understand the
+necessity to retreat gracefully from your position before you are
+kicked out. As to Striver----"
+
+"What about Striver?" sneered the little villain, who was desperately
+pale by this time, for my words had gone home. "He won't give in. You
+have got the better of me, but Striver will get the better of you."
+
+I snapped my fingers, as Mr. Monk had done himself a few minutes
+previously. "That for Mr. Striver!" I said contemptuously. "Do you
+think I care for a country bumpkin such as he is. Gertrude has
+promised to be my wife, so the rest matters little."
+
+Monk nursed his chin on his hand, and looked remarkably sullen. After
+a couple of minutes' silence he looked up. "See here, I shall make a
+bargain with you. If I withdraw from Lady Mabel's society and court
+her no more, will you hold your tongue?"
+
+"No. Lady Denham must learn the truth. You are at her house under
+false pretences."
+
+"As you choose!" he shrugged, but his eyes glittered wickedly behind
+the _pince-nez_, "but if you will hold your tongue, for, say a
+fortnight, until I can retreat gracefully from my position by feigning
+to make a trip to the Continent, I will offer no opposition to your
+marriage with Gertrude."
+
+"Oh, I have no wish to be hard on you, Mr. Monk. Your opposition to my
+marriage doesn't matter, since Gertrude will think very little of you
+when she learns the truth. I shall hold my tongue for a fortnight, and
+you must give up Lady Denham's acquaintance altogether: also Lady
+Mabel's and Lord Cannington's acquaintance."
+
+"And you'll let me tell Gertrude myself," he entreated, now beaten.
+
+"Yes," said I, after a pause, "I shall let you tell Gertrude
+yourself."
+
+"Thank you," said Monk in a low tone, "and in return I advise you to
+beware of Striver. You have conquered me: you won't conquer him," and
+he smiled in a most evil manner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+STRIVER'S THREAT
+
+
+I was having my fill of surprises by this time, and was beginning to
+wish that the matter should end. By the matter I mean this Mootley
+crime, the present cause of all these happenings. By stumbling on that
+fine adventure, I had become engaged to Gertrude, and, to keep
+Cannington from plundering my preserves, I had come to London. Here,
+at his aunt's house, I had met Gertrude's father masquerading as a
+millionaire. There was no use his denying this. His change of name may
+have been legal, and he may have acquired a competency by the death of
+his Australian cousin: but he certainly could not rank with the Park
+Lane fraternity. Yet Lady Denham believed him to be one, and he
+encouraged the idea.
+
+I took my leave of the smooth-faced little man with the resolve to
+keep my promise. So long as he abstained from calling on Lady Denham,
+and withdrew his pretentions to Lady Mabel's hand, there was no need
+for me to strip him of his peacock's feathers. There was no need even
+to tell Gertrude, as the revelation would not change her feelings
+towards me in any way. Certainly the ingenious Mr. Striver knew, and I
+wondered that he had not made use of his information before, to force
+Monk's hand. But Striver was a patient man and perhaps had waited
+until he had acquired his aunt's wealth before pressing his suit.
+Then, if Gertrude refused, he could threaten to tell her of Monk's
+secret doings, unless that gentleman exercised his parental authority
+so far as to insist upon the unequal marriage. But--and the reflection
+made me chuckle--they were both a day after the fair, for Gertrude had
+promised to be my wife and I was equal to Striver in the knowledge of
+which he hoped to make use. It was a poor lookout for the handsome
+Joseph, and, in spite of Monk's warning, I had no fears that the man
+could harm myself or my darling in any way.
+
+I remained a week in London, and enjoyed myself along with
+Cannington--that is, I went to the theatres, to various At Homes, to
+certain small dances, and to suppers, dinners, motor drives, and all
+the rest of it, including bridge drives, although I had no particular
+regard for that fashionable game. But my heart was far away with
+Gertrude, and I felt very much bored in spite of the boy's lively
+society. I think he noticed my abstracted condition at times, for he
+proposed that I should leave him and return to Burwain. I refused,
+since I had arranged to remain a week. I heard from Gertrude every
+day, and replied at length, so that somewhat ameliorated my desperate
+situation. Moreover, I wished to remain in London to see if Mr. Monk
+intended to keep his promise.
+
+One day--the last of my stay in town, as a matter of fact--Cannington
+turned up at my club with two pieces of news. He delivered both over a
+brandy and soda and a cigar.
+
+"Weston has been to Burwain, and has got his land lease for a few
+months," said Cannington, "and to-morrow he is taking down a gang of
+men to erect fences. Within a week--so he says--the fences will be up,
+and in a fortnight the sheds will be erected. Then he can take down
+the various parts of his airship to put the beastly thing together."
+
+"But to get fences and sheds rigged up in such a hurry will take a
+very great number of men."
+
+"Of course. However, Dicky has thirty thousand pounds a year----"
+
+"So much as that? Why doesn't Mabel marry him, then? She wants money
+and love. Weston can give her both."
+
+"Do you think so, really, old chap?"
+
+"I am certain of it. He was dreadfully jealous of our friend, Mr.
+Marr."
+
+"Well, I think he is. You see Dicky looks on Mabel as his own
+property, and hates anyone to poach. I wish he would adjust the
+situation, but hang him, he won't--that is, he has done his best, and
+can't."
+
+"Why don't you ask him his intentions? You are the head of the
+family."
+
+Cannington grew red. "Oh, hang it, I can't. It would look as though I
+were shying Mabel at the chap's head. It will all come right in time."
+
+"Unless Mabel, in a fit of pique, accepts Marr."
+
+"She won't do that. He's bunked out of the business."
+
+"Really!" said I, with feigned surprise, "and why?"
+
+"Lord only knows," said Cannington indifferently. "Aunt Lucy is in a
+fine state about his clearing. He wrote and said he had a sudden call
+on business to South America--something to do with a silver mine, I
+fancy--and would be away for a year. Aunt Lucy says this means he has
+given up any idea of making Mab his wife, and she blames poor Mab, and
+says it was her flirting with Dicky that sent old Marr off."
+
+"It's just as well, Cannington. Weston is a much better match for your
+sister, and is quite rich enough, besides being younger. But has Marr
+really gone away?"
+
+"I suppose so. I haven't seen him about town lately, and he said that
+he was sailing soon for New York. I'm sure I don't care: he can go
+hang for me." He laughed. "Aunt Lucy said I ought to thrash him for
+compromising Mabel. But that's all bosh. Mab's quite able to look
+after herself, and I can't lay hands on a man old enough to be my
+father. What do you think? Ought I to thrash him?"
+
+Privately I thought that it would do Mr. Marr-Monk good to have a
+trifle of physical pain, and when Cannington knew the whole truth I
+was not at all sure but what he would reconsider his position and
+thrash the scoundrel. But since Monk had kept his promise I had to
+keep mine, so I merely shrugged my shoulders. "He's too old, boy.
+Besides, your sister never cared for him. When the airship is
+floated--is that the correct term--Weston is sure to propose."
+
+"And you expect Mab to take him with a 'Thank you,'" flashed out the
+boy, growing red and haughty.
+
+"Well," said I, with a look of surprise, "she loves him."
+
+"That's true enough, but she's not going to be at the beck and call of
+Master Dick, as I told him."
+
+"When?"
+
+"When he came grumbling to me that Mab had refused him."
+
+"He asked her to marry him?" I exclaimed.
+
+
+[********************216]
+Cannington nodded. "Dicky got so mad with the
+way in which Aunt Lucy talked that evening you were
+there, and with the way in which Marr seemed to be
+so sure of his ground, that he proposed the next day.
+Mab refused him at once, as he seemed to think he
+only to ask and to have. I told him it served him
+jolly well right, and that I admired Mab's spirit."
+
+"So do I," was my hearty reply, "but I don't think
+Weston meant his offer to be taken in that light. He's
+a absent-minded man and--"
+
+"Oh, hang it! a refusal will do him good," said
+Cannington crossly, "and perhaps he'll drop being such
+an ass. Of course he wants me to persuade Mab, but
+I told him I wouldn't lift a finger. Well, then,
+Vance, you see that Mab has lost both her lovers at
+once. Marr has sheered off--like his impudence, although
+I'm glad--and Dicky has been sent away with
+a flea in his ear, and serve him jolly well right."
+
+"And how is Mabel?"
+
+"As jolly as a sandboy, bless her, in spite of Aunt Lucy's nagging. I
+have asked her to come down to Murchester for a week. She can take
+rooms at the Lion Hotel, and collar some old woman as a chaperon. Then
+we can have a good time together. Come down also."
+
+"No, boy. I must return to Burwain to-morrow."
+
+"And when am I to be asked down to see Miss Monk?"
+
+"Very shortly, as soon as I have her father's consent."
+
+"Oh, she has a father?"
+
+"Yes, but no mother. By the way," I said swiftly, to avert further
+questions, "you didn't give me your opinion of the case I put to you."
+
+"I don't know what sort of opinion to give," said Cannington testily;
+"the best thing to be done is to find out who it was entered the shop
+when Miss Monk went away. I can think of nothing else."
+
+Cannington's opinion was mine also. But if Gertrude refused to
+speak I did not see what I could do. Besides, she was anxious for
+me to abandon the case. I felt inclined to do so myself, much as
+the mystery piqued me. However, I ceased to discuss it with
+Cannington--who really took very little interest in intricacies--and
+we spent the evening at theatre. Next day I furbished up the Rippler
+and departed at top speed for Burwain.
+
+I flew, so to speak, on the wings of love, as I was desperately anxious
+to reach the side of my darling. It was a wet day and the roads were in a
+very bad condition. Nevertheless I broke every rule with regard to
+speed and defied the police traps. I broke through three, I know, and
+managed to escape having the number of my car taken. By the time I
+reached Burwain I had accumulated a tidy sum in fines. I did not care.
+I would have paid three times as much to reach Gertrude. But the fun
+of it was that, owing to my desperate haste, there was no chance of my
+being made to pay the money, as I had flown past with the speed of a
+kingfisher. "More haste, less speed" was not a true proverb in this
+instance.
+
+So anxious was I to hold Gertrude in my arms that I halted the Rippler
+before the gate of The Lodge and proposed, dripping as I was, to have
+an interview before driving on to the Robin Redbreast. I soon made my
+way to the door, and rang the bell. The house looked forlorn and
+dismal in the misty rain, and there was a chill in the atmosphere. But
+love cares very little for such discomforts, so I smiled gaily at
+Eliza when she appeared at the door. She was a sour-faced, elderly
+woman, with a silent tongue, and usually never opened her mouth, even
+to me, although I was a constant visitor. But on this occasion, with a
+somewhat disturbed face, she spoke eagerly and seemed pleased to see
+me.
+
+"Thank goodness you have come, sir," she whispered, with a backward
+glance, "I know you'll make him clear out."
+
+"Make who clear out, Eliza?" I asked, staring.
+
+"That Joseph, sir."
+
+"The gardener?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Ever since you have been away, he's been haunting the
+house. It's sheer lunacy, sir, but he's in love with Miss Gertrude,
+and follows her like a dog. An hour ago he forced himself into the
+house, and is now talking with her in the drawing-room, and--oh, sir,"
+she caught hold of me, as I compressed my lips and strode past her,
+"don't anger him: he's a desperate man."
+
+"I'll break his neck," said I drily; "let me go, woman," and wrenching
+my sleeve from her grasp, I walked to the drawing-room door, and flung
+it open.
+
+"Cyrus!" Gertrude saw me at once, and flung herself across the long
+room to nestle in my arms, "I am so glad you are here. He--he"--she
+pointed to the gardener--"he's quite mad."
+
+Striver, dressed much the same as he had been when I interviewed him
+in the Mootley corner shop, stood sullenly at the end of the room.
+Apparently he had pinned Gertrude in a corner, but his turning to see
+who was entering had given her the chance, and now she was safe by my
+side. The fellow looked as handsome as ever, but his face was scarlet
+with anger, and his fists hung clenched by his side. Feeling myself to
+be the master of the situation I was comparatively cool.
+
+"What the devil do you mean, man?" I said, with pointed and intended
+insolence.
+
+"He is mad: he is mad," cried Gertrude, clinging to me, and replying
+for the man, who still kept a sullen silence. "He forced his way into
+the house and has been saying dreadful things."
+
+"Things you cannot deny," said Striver, moistening his dry lips with
+his tongue. "Mr. Vance, you had better keep out of this, or it will be
+the worse for her," and he pointed to Gertrude.
+
+I removed her arms from my neck and walked straight across the room.
+Before Striver was aware of my intention I had my hands on his throat
+and was shaking him as a terrier does a rat. With desperate efforts he
+tried to tear away my grasp, but could not do so, and his face was
+rapidly turning black with strangulation, when Gertrude ran to my
+side. "Don't kill him, for God's sake, Cyrus."
+
+I loosened my grip, and Striver, staggering back, fell into a chair.
+Then, somewhat unjustly, I turned on Gertrude. "Are you thinking of
+him?" I demanded in a thick voice, for at the moment I was not master
+of myself.
+
+"I am thinking of you," she replied, clasping her hands, "who else
+would I think of? I don't wish to see you hanged for murder."
+
+"You would hang together," gasped the gardener, recovering his breath
+with a gigantic effort; "with my dying breath I would tell the truth."
+
+"What truth?" I asked fiercely.
+
+Gertrude clung to me. "Don't listen to him; don't listen to him."
+
+"Ah," Striver sneered with pale lips, "she's afraid, you see."
+
+"I am not afraid," cried Gertrude, her eyes flashing, and drawing
+herself up to her full height. "Cyrus knows everything. I only asked
+him not to listen because I wish you to go away and rid me of your
+hateful presence--your hateful presence," she repeated incoherently.
+
+Striver gave a sob. "If you knew how I loved you!"
+
+"Stop!" I had control of my feelings by this time. "It is no use your
+saying these things, Miss Monk is engaged to me."
+
+"She'll never marry you, never," said the man between his teeth. "I
+shall denounce her to the police."
+
+"As what--be quiet, Gertrude--as what, Mr. Striver?"
+
+"As the woman who murdered my aunt," he cried, staggering to his feet.
+
+I laughed, and the two stared at me in astonishment. The sound of
+merriment at such a tragic moment startled them. But I saw swiftly
+that it was useless to act a melodramatic scene, and was half sorry
+that I had so nearly strangled the gardener. Now I was cool and
+composed and, before proceeding to act, wished to know where I stood.
+"Sit down, Striver; sit down, Gertrude." They did as I asked them in
+sheer amazement. "Now then," I took a seat myself, "perhaps you will
+explain."
+
+"He forced his way----" began Gertrude, when I stopped her.
+
+"I know that much. Mr. Striver is in love with you. I don't blame him
+for that, since no man can help his feelings. He has forced his way
+into this house to compel you by threats to be his wife. I condemn him
+on those grounds, for no human being has a right to coerce another.
+Now then, the situation being plain, perhaps, Striver, you will speak
+out."
+
+If I had been violent the man could have met me more easily. But my
+perfect fairness and coolness confounded him, and he stared stupidly
+at me. I grew impatient. "Come, Striver, speak up. I don't wish to
+condemn you unheard. On what grounds do you accuse Miss Monk of this
+crime?"
+
+"She was at my aunt's house on that evening."
+
+"I know as much from her own lips. I also know that she left her white
+cloak behind and a certain hat-pin. Well?"
+
+He was more confounded than ever. "She stabbed my aunt," he muttered.
+
+"I never did, I never did," cried Gertrude breathlessly.
+
+"My dear," said I, patting her hand, "there is no need for you to deny
+that, I am aware of your innocence. But I wish to know upon what
+grounds Mr. Striver bases his accusation."
+
+"I shall tell them to the police," said the gardener, rising.
+
+"You can't do that," struck in Gertrude, "without incriminating
+yourself."
+
+"Oh, indeed," said I lightly; "perhaps you will explain, Striver. You
+see, I am treating you with all justice."
+
+"I don't want your justice," he said rudely.
+
+"Ah!" I retorted meaningly, "perhaps you want the justice of a British
+jury, Striver. Come, out with it."
+
+The young man clenched his fists. "If I ruin myself, I shall ruin her.
+You shan't have her if I can't."
+
+"Allow me to tell you, Striver," I said, repressing Gertrude, "that
+all this bombast has no effect on me. Prove your accusation."
+
+"You can't without incriminating yourself," repeated Gertrude, drawing
+a breath. "Cyrus, he told me that----"
+
+"I'll tell him," interrupted the gardener fiercely. "I know that I run
+the risk of standing in the dock. But you, Miss Monk, will be by my
+side. It's my love for you which makes me risk my neck."
+
+"So that you can put a rope round the neck of the woman you love," I
+said cheerfully, although I confess that the man's decisive tone made
+me uneasy. "That is an affectionate way of acting." "Well, are you
+going to confess?"
+
+"I am not afraid to confess," said Striver, in thick tones, but
+more composed. "You can't make use of my confession without proving
+her"--he pointed to Gertrude--"to be a murderess and a thief."
+
+"A lie, a lie," moaned the girl.
+
+"I have been very patient with you, Striver," I said, suppressing my
+anger with an effort, "but if you call Miss Monk names I'll knock your
+teeth down your throat."
+
+"I'm not afraid of you, Mr. Vance."
+
+"No; you're afraid of the police."
+
+"And so is she," he pointed again.
+
+"I am not," denied Gertrude, and stood up calm and unflinching to deny
+it.
+
+"Oh, damn your fencing, come to the point. Forgive me for swearing,
+Gertrude, but this long-winded ass would provoke a saint."
+
+Striver took no notice of the insult. He plunged, with a gasp,
+directly into the middle of his story, and I soon saw how it was that
+he did not dare to denounce Gertrude. "My aunt wished me to marry Miss
+Monk," he said rapidly, and with his eyes on the carpet--he was
+standing up, by the way--"and as I loved her I wished for nothing
+better. My aunt said that she could give me Gabriel Monk's money after
+her death, as she had concealed its whereabouts in her glass eye."
+
+"Oh," I said, half to myself, "so I was right."
+
+"Yes, you were right," assented Striver quickly. "I wanted my aunt to
+show me the eye when she was alive, but she always refused and said
+that it would remain in her head until she died."
+
+"A violent death, Mr. Striver."
+
+"Yes. She always declared that because of this secret she would not
+die in her bed. She was afraid that Miss Monk would kill her."
+
+"Oh, rubbish!" I interrupted impatiently. "Miss Monk would not kill a
+fly, as you well know. Mrs. Caldershaw must have been mad."
+
+"I think she was," murmured Gertrude, clinging to me.
+
+"She was not mad enough to give away the secret of the eye to me,"
+said Striver savagely. "I heard from Miss Destiny that Miss Monk had
+learned from some diary of Gabriel Monk's that my aunt knew the secret
+of the money."
+
+"Yes," interrupted Gertrude, looking up, "but not of the eye."
+
+"Seeing that you murdered my aunt, I believe you did," contradicted
+the gardener bluntly. "Miss Destiny said that you were going over to
+Mootley to see my aunt. I went over also."
+
+"On that evening?" I asked, startled.
+
+"Yes, and some time before Miss Monk arrived. I saw my aunt and asked
+her to tell me the secret. She refused, as she only wished me to have
+the money after her death. Then Miss Monk arrived, and my aunt
+smuggled me up the stairs into a bedroom. From above I saw Miss Monk
+enter the back room with my aunt. I returned to the bedroom to wait,
+and fell asleep. When I awoke it was quite dark. I stole down the
+stairs into the back room, and found it in darkness. Also I found my
+aunt's body and the eye missing. My aunt was not quite dead, as she
+moaned. While I was wondering what to do, I heard a motor arrive."
+
+"My motor?" I asked swiftly.
+
+"Yes. I then saw in a flash that being found with my aunt dying I
+might be accused of murder and of stealing her eye, seeing that I
+wanted it so much. I could not risk anyone entering the back room, so
+I fumbled for the key. It was on the outside, and you entered the
+shop, Mr. Vance, before I could get it. But there was a bolt on the
+inside of the door, and this I slipped. When you tried the door you
+could not get in. Afterwards, when you were filling your tank with
+petrol, I came out softly and stole up the stairs with the white
+cloak."
+
+"Why did you take the white cloak?"
+
+"I knew that it belonged to Miss Monk, as I had frequently seen her
+wearing it. I wished to keep it as evidence that she had murdered my
+aunt in the back room."
+
+"I left the cloak, when I had to depart in a hurry," said Gertrude
+defiantly.
+
+"So you say," sneered Striver, "but I believe differently. However, I
+managed to get safely back to the bedroom, and wondered how I could
+escape. It then struck me that I could assume the cloak as a disguise.
+I found a veil also, and put that round my cap. In the dusk, with the
+long cloak and the veil, I thought I would look like a woman, and
+could steal out."
+
+"Oh," I said, with a gasp, "then you ran away with my car."
+
+"Yes, I did," he said with a sort of triumph. "I waited my chance to
+get out of the place, as I was afraid lest I should be accused of the
+murder. When you entered the back room----"
+
+"Attracted by the moan of the dying woman. Yes, go on."
+
+"Well, then I stole down the stairs and turned the key, which, I
+already knew, was on the outside. You had set your motor going, so I
+ran out and leaped in. That man Giles saw me--although I did not know
+his name at the time--and I put on all speed to escape. Luckily you
+had turned the motor round in the Murchester direction. I spun along
+and met Miss Destiny in her trap, as you know. At the time I didn't
+think it was her. Then it struck me that she--a stranger, as I
+believed--might say how she had seen the motor and I would be traced.
+I therefore slewed the machine into the field through the gate. I left
+it stranded there, and concealed the cloak----"
+
+"Which I found, along with the veil," I put in. "Go on, Mr. Striver."
+
+"There's nothing more to tell," he said sulkily. "I walked to
+Murchester and caught a train. As I had not the motor or the white
+cloak, I felt that I was safe. And so I was."
+
+"You are not very safe now," I remarked, rising to stretch myself.
+"Suppose I tell the police?"
+
+"Then I denounce Miss Monk as guilty; she was in the back room----"
+
+"I had left long, long before," interposed Gertrude, very pale.
+
+"I was in the back room also, Striver, yet I am innocent. However, I
+can see that if I talk you can talk, so, for the present, in any
+event, I shall say nothing about the matter. You can go." I pointed to
+the door.
+
+He stood his ground and looked at Gertrude. "You are in my power,"
+said he.
+
+"And you are in ours," I retorted cheerfully, "it won't do, Striver,
+things shall remain as they are for the present. Miss Monk is not for
+you."
+
+"I shall tell the police," he threatened.
+
+"By all means, and cut your own throat. Go!" I flung open the door.
+
+He looked with deadly hatred at Gertrude and myself, then departed in
+silence.
+
+When I turned towards my darling, she had fainted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+LADY MABEL'S VISIT
+
+
+Of course in daring Striver to do his worst I knew that I was running
+considerable risk. The man was crazy with love, and might be
+sufficiently reckless of consequences to himself to tell the police
+all that he had confessed to us. Then Gertrude would certainly be
+arrested on his evidence. Striver, as an accomplice after the fact
+would be arrested also: and then Justice would have to remove the
+bandage from her eyes to learn which of the two was guilty. In my own
+mind I had no doubt of Gertrude's innocence, but an unbiassed jury
+might take, and probably would take, on the declarations of Striver, a
+very different view. I had dared much on the spur of the moment, and
+had defied a jealous man. Therefore for the next two or three days I
+was uneasy.
+
+But I did not permit Gertrude to see that I was doubtful of Striver's
+silence. When she recovered from her faint she expressed herself
+afraid lest he should speak out, and, in point of fact, voiced my
+sentiments. But in order to pacify her I made light of her fears.
+
+"My dear, much as the man loves you, he certainly will not place his
+neck in a noose to be revenged on you," I said again and again. "He is
+too deeply implicated, by running away with my car and with your
+cloak, and with being in the house when the crime was actually
+committed, to dare to tell the police the truth. Even if he did go
+with his story I doubt if you would be arrested, as on the face of it
+he looks much more guilty."
+
+"Do you think he _is_ guilty, Cyrus?" she asked tremulously.
+
+"Well," I spoke doubtfully, "some such thought struck me once or
+twice. He was in the house, he wanted the eye to learn the secret of
+the hiding-place, and he knew that you had paid a visit. He might have
+murdered the old lady with your hat-pin so as to throw the blame on
+you, and then might have hoped to implicate you still further by using
+your cloak as a disguise. That Giles mistook him for a woman--which he
+counted upon--would, of course, aid him to entangle you yet more in
+the snare. But I can't be sure if he is actually guilty."
+
+"I hope not, I hope not," murmured Gertrude anxiously, "it would be
+such a terrible thing for him to murder his relative. I don't mind
+Joseph at all if he would only get rid of this crazy affection he has
+for me. I don't know why he loves me so?"
+
+"Look in the glass, and you'll see," I said, kissing her.
+
+"Oh, nonsense, Cyrus," said Gertrude impatiently, "how can you joke
+when things are so serious. I am a very ordinary girl, and Joseph is
+half mad, I really believe. Oh"--she stopped short and looked at
+me--"that eye."
+
+I saw what she meant. "Yes," I nodded, "that struck me also. Joseph
+might have been the one who placed it on that drawing-room table to
+implicate you. In that case--if we can only force him to confess as
+much--he must be guilty of the murder."
+
+"I hope not--I hope not," she said again shiveringly, "and yet"--then
+she went off on a new line of thought--"if he placed the eye there,
+why should he take it away again?"
+
+"He may not have done so. Do you know, Gertrude, I should not be
+surprised if your Aunt Julia had it. She wanted the eye, as we know,
+because she desires to handle the money. Apparently she told Joseph of
+your visit to Mootley, so that he might go there on the same day and
+anticipate your learning the secret from Mrs. Caldershaw."
+
+"But what would she gain by that?"
+
+"She would be able to make Joseph give her part of the money when he
+found it," I replied quickly.
+
+"Then you think she anticipated the murder?"
+
+"Not for one moment, my dear. With all her faults, your aunt is not
+wicked enough to deliberately urge a man to commit murder. But she
+sent Joseph ahead first, trusting that Mrs. Caldershaw would tell him
+the secret before you arrived. Then he could return with the cipher
+and they could understand it together--solve it, that it. But, as
+things turned out--all this is pure theory mind--Joseph did not show
+her the eye."
+
+"But he could not have had it, by his own confession," insisted
+Gertrude.
+
+"Quite so. But who else could have placed the eye on the drawing-room
+table, my dearest? I suspected Giles; I suspected you; and, I think,
+in a way, I suspected Striver, since he was working in the garden. Now
+I am sure. He put it there, because he was unable to read the cipher
+and so made use of it to implicate you. Miss Destiny found it and
+probably now it is in her possession. That glass eye has a trick of
+disappearing."
+
+"The Disappearing Eye," said Gertrude, with a wan smile, "but you are
+wrong about Aunt Julia, Cyrus. She was with me all the time when you
+saw the eye, and I walked with her to the gate myself. We were not in
+the drawing-room."
+
+I was disappointed when I heard this. "In that case, she could not
+have taken it," I mused. "Mr. Monk, could not, as he was with me all
+the time."
+
+"Cyrus, how can you think that papa would do such a thing?"
+
+I smiled covertly. My experience of Mr. Monk showed me that he could
+act in an extremely underhanded and mean way when it suited his own
+tricky ends to do so. But, bearing my promise in mind, I did not dare
+to explain myself to the girl. I merely said that perhaps, after all,
+Striver took the eye back again, as he had every opportunity of doing
+so.
+
+"But he would have produced it when we talked," insisted Gertrude
+again.
+
+"No. That would incriminate him too deeply. However, this eye, as I
+have said, seems to have a trick of appearing and disappearing, so it
+will turn up again. Meanwhile we will give Mr. Striver the benefit of
+the doubt and assume him to be innocent, although I'm hanged if his
+actions look like it. He won't say anything, you may depend upon
+that."
+
+Striver did not, and evidently my policy of daring him to do his worst
+had proved successful. He remained a week in Burwain, but did not come
+near the house. Then he disappeared. Mrs. Gilfin told me the news.
+Striver had given his cottage into the charge of some cousin and had
+gone away for an indefinite period.
+
+"Didn't say where he was going," chatted Mrs. Gilfin. "I asked John to
+find out from the gossip in the bar, but he couldn't. But, knowing men
+as I do, I know where he's gone."
+
+"Where, Cuckoo?" I asked anxiously, for, bearing in mind what the
+gardener knew, I was eager to know his whereabouts.
+
+"To London town," said Mrs. Gilfin solemnly, "young men with money
+always go there to have a spree. And since you've caught the eye of
+Miss Gertrude, Master Cyrus, dear, that young man's given up trying.
+With his aunt's money he's gone to enjoy himself."
+
+I doubted it. Striver was too deeply in love to get rid of his crazy
+passion so easily. Still it was possible that he had gone to London to
+drown his disappointment in an orgy, so I took the news of his
+departure to Gertrude, although I did not tell her of Mrs. Gilfin's
+belief. I found the girl puzzling over a letter from her father.
+
+"He's going to New York on business," she said, handing me the letter;
+"now I wonder what his business can be, Cyrus. And why did he go away
+without coming down to tell me personally and say good-bye?"
+
+I read Mr. Monk's precise handwriting carefully. He had kept to my
+agreement with him, and had left the country. He would be away, he
+wrote to his daughter, for an indefinite period, and hoped to return a
+wealthy man. I guessed that such a mean creature would probably stay
+in America and marry there, leaving his daughter to look after
+herself. Luckily there was a postscript stating that if Gertrude
+wanted money she was to apply to a lawyer whose address was given. I
+handed back the letter with a shrug. Since Mr. Monk had departed there
+was no reason for me to say anything at all, although I had limited my
+silence to a fortnight.
+
+"I expect he's found some business which will make him rich, and has
+had to go off in a hurry. You can't miss him very much, Gertrude,
+darling, for he is never here."
+
+"No, that is true," she said thoughtfully, folding up the letter, "and
+since you have come into my life, Cyrus, I miss my father very little,
+still he might have come to say good-bye. I am afraid," she ended,
+sighing, "that papa is a little selfish."
+
+"Well, never mind. He'll return with wealth, as he says."
+
+"Do you think he will?"
+
+"I am sure of it," I replied, kissing her, for if Mr. Monk did appear
+in Burwain again, a contingency I could not be sure would take place,
+he would doubtless admit his possession of the Australian cousin's
+money to his daughter. Meanwhile, as I pointed out, he was gone, and
+Striver was gone, so all we had to do was to enjoy ourselves.
+
+"Then there's no danger of Joseph seeing the police?"
+
+I kissed her again. "No. Set your mind at rest!" And truly, when day
+after day went past and no news came I began to believe that Mr.
+Striver and his suggested revenge had passed away altogether. The
+murder of Mrs. Caldershaw--unless the gardener was guilty--still
+remained a mystery, but so long as Gertrude was not troubled I cared
+very little if it were never solved.
+
+September passed into October, and that damp month gave place to foggy
+November. I remained very comfortably lodged at the Robin Redbreast,
+and saw Gertrude every day. The lawyer sent her a weekly sum, so all
+was well financially, and for the rest, she no longer felt lonely,
+since she had my company to an unlimited extent. We motored a great
+deal, we sometimes visited the Tarhaven theatre, and we spent long
+evenings together over the piano, for Gertrude was a very good
+musician. If ever a man had an opportunity of knowing what kind of
+wife he was marrying, I was that lucky individual. Our wooing was odd
+and unconventional, to say the least of it, and I was known in Burwain
+village as "Miss Gerty's young man." Only Puddles acted as chaperon,
+although Miss Destiny sometimes assumed that office.
+
+The little old lady was extremely gracious to me, and actually asked
+me to afternoon tea in her tin house, an unprecedented favour,
+considering her avaricious nature. Gertrude privately informed me that
+her aunt did not again refer to the hidden money, and evidently was
+quite ready to wait until it was found. If it was, and she did not
+receive her half, I had no doubt that she would show her teeth, but
+meanwhile she was bland and smiling and agreeable. I disliked her
+myself, as I knew she was holding a whip over Gertrude. Still, so long
+as she did not use it, I had no cause to complain. Gertrude's
+position--owing to circumstances over which she had no control--was an
+extremely delicate one, and Miss Destiny, as a possible scandalmaker,
+had to be propitiated. I was therefore as amiable to her as she was to
+me, but I fancy she hated me under her feigned mask of friendship, as
+several times I caught sly glances revealing the smouldering fires of
+her suppressed feelings.
+
+I had, through those damp months, a companion at the Robin Redbreast
+in the small person of Dicky Weston. True to his intention, he had
+leased a few acres of waste land outside the village and, having
+enclosed it with a high tin fence, had erected sheds for his three or
+four workmen--in the construction of his airship he did not retain
+more--and for the housing of the vessel (as I presume it may be
+called). The various parts were brought from London, and Weston spent
+his days in putting them together. Meanwhile he lived along with me at
+the inn, and we had a common table. I rather liked Weston, although
+he was confoundedly absent-minded. He told me--for we grew
+confidential--that he had proposed to Mabel and that she had refused
+him.
+
+"I believe she's in love with that Marr fellow," said Weston savagely.
+
+"She is in love with you, my dear chap," I assured him; "anyone but a
+half-blinded inventor could see that."
+
+"Then why didn't she accept me?"
+
+"Do you expect a girl to drop into your mouth like a ripe apple, just
+because between the intervals of what you regard as more important
+business you propose to her. Women need to be wooed in order to be
+won, Weston, and Lady Mabel--very rightly, declined to be considered a
+side issue of your life interest."
+
+"But I love her no end, Vance."
+
+"Pooh! You would sacrifice her and a dozen like her to your Moloch of
+an airship," I said lightly.
+
+"I wouldn't," he insisted; "but Mabel couldn't expect me to throw over
+everything to dance at her heels."
+
+"She could expect it, and she did expect it. Weston, you don't know
+the sex."
+
+"I know Mabel, and I love Mabel," he muttered, "but since she won't
+have me there is no more to be said. I expect to hear she has married
+Marr."
+
+"You expect wrongly then," said I with a shrug; "Marr has gone to
+America for an indefinite period, and is out of the running."
+
+"Then there's a chance for me," he said, his dark face lightening up.
+
+"If you play your cards properly."
+
+"Show me how to play, then," he asked me, and I laughed.
+
+"Good Lord man, you aren't a child, to be shown what to do. Make a
+fuss with Mabel, and show her--as she deserves to be shown--that she
+is the one woman in the world for you."
+
+"So she is, so she is. I love her no end. Upon my soul I do."
+
+"You have not shown that by your actions," I replied dryly; "if your
+love was so ardent you certainly would not be daunted by a single
+refusal."
+
+Weston sighed. "I don't understand girls," he confessed.
+
+"You certainly don't, my friend. However, if you are willing to make
+another attempt, ask Mabel down to see your airship."
+
+"She won't come: she can't come."
+
+"Why not? It isn't a long journey."
+
+"From Italy it is," he said dolefully. "Lady Denham and her niece have
+been in Florence for some weeks. Lady Denham wrote and told me they
+were going."
+
+"Oh, she wrote you, did she? That shows that, now Marr is off the
+scene, Lady Denham will favor your suit. Cannington's at Florence
+also. I got a letter from him a few days ago. The whole party are
+coming back to England for Christmas, as Lady Denham virtuously
+intends to spend the festive season at her country house in the good
+old English fashion."
+
+"It's a fortnight to Christmas," ruminated Weston anxiously. "I wonder
+if Lady Denham would ask me down."
+
+"I am quite sure she would. Men with thirty thousand a year are not
+easily picked up. Marr, the millionaire," I laughed when I said this,
+"having sheered off, Lady Denham will be delighted if her niece will
+marry you."
+
+"But Mabel doesn't love me for my money, I hope."
+
+"No. She's too decent a girl. You will be a lucky man if you win her.
+Lord knows what she can see in you, Weston. You're not handsome, not
+entertaining, and your mind generally floats in the clouds with your
+blessed airship."
+
+Weston laughed, in no wise offended. "I'll tell you what," he said
+after a pause, "I'll wire Cannington asking him to bring his sister
+down here when they return to England."
+
+"Won't a letter do? Why are you in such a hurry?"
+
+"I haven't time to write a letter," confessed Weston candidly, "a wire
+is just as good, if more expensive. But if they come down I can then
+show Mabel the airship and ask her to use it with me for the
+honeymoon. She can't mistake that offer."
+
+"It's an odd one, but she certainly can't," I answered laughing.
+
+The consequence of this conversation was that Weston sent his telegram,
+and then promptly forgot all about it in the interest of his infernal
+aerial tramp. Cannington did not reply, so I wrote him a long letter,
+detailing my conversation with the inventor, and pointing out that Lady
+Mabel was the dream of the little man's life. So she was, in a way,
+although Weston had a queer method of showing it. My letter crossed
+another one from Cannington, and I learned that the party had returned
+to England sooner than was expected. Thus Weston's wire to Florence had
+not reached Lady Mabel. I posted another explanation to Cannington, and
+Weston, during the course of the week before Christmas, received a
+hasty note from the boy, saying that he was bringing down his sister to
+see--me. This made Dicky furious.
+
+"Good Lord!" he grumbled, "are you in love with Mabel?"
+
+"Considering that I have introduced you to my future wife, how can I
+be?"
+
+"Then why does Cannington bring her to see you, confound you?"
+
+"Because you have behaved badly to his sister."
+
+"I haven't. I asked her to marry and she----"
+
+"Very rightly refused to have you. Weston, you are a complete ass.
+Leave me to arrange this matter, and when you get the chance throw
+yourself at Mabel's feet and let her trample on you."
+
+"I'll do whatever you like," said Weston, who was about as much in
+love as a man divided between science and humanity well could be.
+
+The result of my efforts came about in due course. Cannington appeared
+on the scene in a walking kit, along with his sister, and announced
+that they were stopping at the Buckingham Hotel, Tarhaven, for a few
+days. The boy looked very well after his foreign tour, and Lady Mabel
+was as blooming as a rose. Weston being as usual in his yard attending
+to his darling airship, I gave Cannington and the girl afternoon tea,
+and we had a long chat, which included news on both sides.
+
+"Mabel got an offer from an Italian count," said Cannington gaily.
+
+"And I refused," replied Mabel. "I have made up my mind to be an old
+maid."
+
+"You look like the sort that become old maids," I retorted, admiring
+her fresh comeliness, "and Weston will have a word to say to that."
+
+Mabel set her mouth obstinately. "I sha'n't accept Dicky," she said,
+with a fine access of color; "he seems to think he has only to ask and
+to have."
+
+"Well, then, he found that he asked and didn't get," I said teasingly;
+"he has been punished enough, Mabel, and loves you desperately. He
+can't get on with his work for thinking of you. Accept him, my dear
+girl, and then, the matter being settled, he can attend to his work."
+
+"If I accept him I shall have to be his work," said Mabel wrathfully.
+"I am not going to be neglected for his airship. But let us leave
+Dicky alone for the present. If he asks me again, I might--mind you, I
+don't say that I will--but I might box his ears and accept him.
+Meanwhile, what about Miss Monk? I am dying to see her."
+
+"So am I," chimed in Cannington, pushing back his chair.
+
+"One at a time, boy. Mabel, you come along with me to The Lodge and we
+shall see Gertrude. Then you can give me your opinion on my extremely
+good taste. As to Cannington, he had better look up Dicky in his
+yard."
+
+"I'd rather come and see Gertrude--I mean Miss Monk."
+
+"No. To-morrow you shall be presented. Go and talk to Dicky like a
+Dutch uncle--he deserves it--while Mabel and I call on Gertrude."
+
+Cannington nodded, although I could see that he was not very well
+pleased with the arrangement. On the way out of the inn he tugged at
+my sleeve while Mabel was speaking to Mrs. Gilfin. "I say, have you
+learned anything more about the Mootley business?"
+
+"Not lately," I replied in low tones. "I'll tell you all I know when
+we have more time. Go and see Dicky. By the way," I caught his sleeve
+this time, "have you heard anything of Marr?"
+
+"Not a word. Why?" He stared wonderingly.
+
+"Oh, nothing. Never mind."
+
+"Mabel," I turned to the girl, "I am at your service."
+
+Cannington shrugged his square shoulders and the three of us walked to
+The Lodge. Weston's yard was farther on, quite beyond the village, so
+I directed Cannington to go straight on, telling him that he could not
+miss the workshop. Then I took Mabel inside the grounds of The Lodge
+and up to the door. Eliza opened the door and conducted us to the
+drawing-room. While she went to inform her young mistress of our
+arrival, Mabel glanced round admiringly.
+
+"What a charming old room!" she said delightedly; "it must have been
+built by William the Conqueror: all except the horrid windows."
+
+"They are rather out of place," I admitted; "some Vandal of a Monk,
+put them there during the Albert period, when everything was ugly."
+
+"I shall get Dicky to give me a room like this--without the French
+windows, of course," chatted Mabel.
+
+"Oh! then you intend to marry him."
+
+"Certainly not. I intend to box his ears if he has the cheek to speak
+to me again. The idea!"
+
+"What shall I give you for a wedding present, Mabel?" I asked,
+laughing.
+
+"Dicky's head on a charger," she replied promptly.
+
+"In that case there would be no wedding. Come, Mabel, you know you
+love Weston and intend to marry him."
+
+"Well, I do, on one condition."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"He must burn or smash his horrid airship before my very eyes."
+
+"Well," said I, thoughtfully and with intent, "he loves you so much
+that I believe he'll even do that."
+
+"Oh, Cyrus, would he"--her eyes sparkled--"does he really love me?"
+
+"Desperately. He's been miserable since you refused him."
+
+"Oh, poor Dicky--" she began, but got no further, for Gertrude entered
+as the words left her lips and came forward with a smile.
+
+"Lady Mabel," she said, holding out her hand, "I have no need to ask
+your name, as Cyrus has described you to me so often."
+
+"Oh, we've known each other for ages," said Mabel warmly. "Cyrus is
+just like my elder brother. I am so glad to meet you. Cyrus told
+me--well, I daren't tell you what he told me, it would make him
+blush."
+
+"I have not blushed since I was a baby," I retorted. "Gertrude, Lady
+Mabel is stopping at Tarhaven with her brother and----"
+
+"Don't call me _Lady_ Mabel. It's very rude. Miss Monk, why don't you
+keep him in better order?"
+
+"Don't call me Miss Monk," said Gertrude, smiling. "I know you quite
+well from what Cyrus has told me, and, indeed, Mr. Weston."
+
+"Oh, Dicky," Mabel blushed, "he's such a silly man, Miss--well then,
+Gertrude."
+
+"Hurrah, Gertrude! you are received into the family circle," said I.
+
+"Not until she meets Cannington," said Mabel, rising. "What a lovely,
+lovely room you have, Gertrude," she moved from one point to another;
+"it's as lovely as--you are."
+
+"What a nice speech, Mabel."
+
+"Yes, isn't it? I always make nice speeches, and--and--oh!" she
+stopped short.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Gertrude, seeing that her visitor was
+staring at a photograph in a silver frame, "that is my father."
+
+"Your father," repeated Mabel, and my blood ran chill, for I guessed
+what was coming. "Why, it's a photograph of Mr. Wentworth Marr, who
+wished to marry me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+AN ALARMING MESSAGE
+
+
+I sat and shivered in my brown shoes. In bringing Lady Mabel to The
+Lodge I had quite overlooked the possibility that she might espy the
+photograph of Monk which stood always, as I very well knew, on the
+piano in the drawing-room, and the worst of it was that the photograph
+had only been taken a few months, so there was no possibility of
+mistaking the face. It was certain that Mabel would appeal to me for
+confirmation of her assertion, since I had met Marr in her presence,
+so what could I do? While the two girls stared alternatively at one
+another and at the photograph, I tried to make up my mind what course
+it would be best to pursue.
+
+"I think you must be mistaken," said Gertrude, who looked puzzled,
+"the photograph is certainly one that my father had taken early this
+year."
+
+"Then your father is Wentworth Marr," insisted Mabel, examining the
+photograph more closely.
+
+"Walter Monk is my father's name," said Gertrude with some stiffness,
+"there is no need for him to change it."
+
+Mabel looked round at me, and I shivered again. The heavens were
+falling. "I ask you, Cyrus," she cried imperatively, "isn't this," she
+touched the photograph, "Mr. Marr."
+
+"There is a likeness," I admitted cautiously.
+
+"Nonsense! it's Mr. Marr himself. You met him at Aunt Lucy's. You must
+know."
+
+"Know what?" I asked doggedly and uneasily.
+
+"That this," she touched the photograph again, "is Mr. Marr."
+
+I was silent, and looked at my toes, wondering what was best to say.
+Certainly I had made a promise to Monk to be silent, provided he
+fulfilled certain conditions. He had done so, and therefore my lips
+were sealed. Then I recalled the fact that I had limited the time of
+concealment to a fortnight and thus, in all honor, I was now free to
+tell the truth. It seemed necessary to do so at the moment, as no
+other course was open to me. Mabel was a most pertinacious young
+woman, and would never leave things alone until her doubts were set at
+rest. Moreover, Gertrude was looking at me inquiringly, as she had
+noticed my obvious embarrassment.
+
+"Cyrus," she asked, and I raised my eyes, "what does this mean?"
+
+"It's a long story," I said weakly.
+
+"Oh," Mabel walked up to me, "then there is a story. Just you tell
+it." She sat down with a determined air. "I don't move from here until
+I know how Mr. Marr's photograph comes to be here under the name of
+Mr. Monk."
+
+There was no help for it. I had to speak out and make the best I could
+of a most uncomfortable situation. "Mr. Walter Monk goes by that name
+in Burwain," I blurted out, "but in London he is known as Mr.
+Wentworth Marr."
+
+"Well I never!" Mabel drew a long breath and looked at Gertrude, who
+had sat down, and was staring hard at me.
+
+"Why has my father two names?" she asked apprehensively.
+
+"Oh, there's nothing wrong," I said hastily, "he is Wentworth Marr by
+Act of Parliament."
+
+"Perhaps he is a millionaire also by Act of Parliament," said Mabel
+sarcastically. "Can you say that he is, Cyrus?"
+
+"Papa is not a millionaire," put in Gertrude hastily. "All he has is
+this house and five hundred a year."
+
+"Oh," Mabel drew another long breath, "and he gave Aunt Lucy to
+understand that he was a rich man."
+
+"Did he give her to understand that he was actually a millionaire?" I
+asked.
+
+"Well no, not exactly. Aunt Lucy exaggerates. But he did say that he
+had no end of money and asked her permission to pay his addresses to
+me."
+
+"To you!" cried Gertrude, her color coming and going; "why, I thought
+that you were engaged to Mr. Weston."
+
+"I am in love with Mr. Weston," said Mabel straightforwardly, "but I
+am not engaged to him, although I may be. I refused him once, and my
+aunt wished me to marry you--that is, Mr. Marr!" She paused, then
+spread out her hands in a foreign fashion, "I can't understand what it
+means."
+
+"Cyrus understands," said Gertrude, and her voice sounded cold.
+"Perhaps you will explain, Cyrus."
+
+"Willingly," I said, nerved to desperate coolness, "but you will
+understand in your turn that I was bound by a promise made to your
+father not to say anything if certain conditions were fulfilled.
+
+"Was that fair to me?" asked Mabel angrily.
+
+"Perfectly fair," I snapped. "I learned the truth when I met Mr. Marr
+at Lady Denham's house. Then I recognized him as Mr. Monk, and
+afterwards I had an explanation with him."
+
+"Why didn't you tell us his real name when you set eyes on him?"
+demanded Lady Mabel crossly.
+
+"I did not wish to make a scene. It was only fair to await an
+explanation."
+
+"What?" cried the girl, her color rising, "when Mr. Marr was calling
+on my aunt under a false name----"
+
+"He has a perfect legal right to the name."
+
+"And under the pretence of being a rich man."
+
+"He is a rich man," I assured her, "to the extent of one hundred
+thousand pounds."
+
+Gertrude looked at me in astonishment. "That isn't true," she denied.
+
+"My dear girl, I have the word of your father for the amount."
+
+"It's all very strange," said Mabel, calming somewhat, and hiding a
+covert smile. "Oh, great heavens! I wonder what Aunt Lucy will say!"
+She laughed outright. "It's like a play: to think that a man with a
+daughter as old as I am should wish to marry me."
+
+Gertrude colored, and I saw that her mind was tormented to think that
+her father should act in this underhand way. To lessen her anguish I
+hastened to relate all I knew--this is, I explained about the
+Australian cousin, the legal change of name and reason for the
+suppression of the Burwain household, and the conditions upon which I
+had held my peace. The two girls listened quietly, Mabel with
+astonishment and Gertrude with pain. Certainly Walter Monk, alias
+Wentworth Marr, had not committed a crime, but he had scarcely acted
+straightforwardly.
+
+"Well," said Mabel, drawing a long breath as usual when I had ended, "I
+never heard of such a thing. Why on earth didn't Mr. Marr, or Mr.
+Monk--I'm sure I don't know what to call him--tell me the whole truth?
+There was no reason to keep quiet that I can see."
+
+"I was the reason, evidently," said Gertrude, with crimson cheeks, for
+she was heartily ashamed of her father. "Papa did not think you would
+marry him if you saw me."
+
+For answer, Mabel, who was an extremely kindhearted girl, jumped up
+and kissed those same flushed cheeks. "My dear, I liked your father
+well enough, and would have no objection to you as a step-daughter."
+She laughed merrily at the idea. "But the fact is, I never intended to
+marry Mr. Marr, whatever Aunt Lucy said. I always loved Dicky Weston
+and I always shall, although he's so horrid."
+
+"I'm glad of that," said Gertrude quickly, "for now I can see that my
+father is not the man to make any woman happy. I always thought that
+he was a kindhearted, harmless man, a trifle frivolous, perhaps, but
+quite honest. Now I understand that I have been deceived--in more ways
+than one," she added half to herself, and I could not understand what
+she meant. I did later.
+
+"Do you blame me, Gertrude?" I asked, rising to take her hand.
+
+"Of course she doesn't," said Mabel very rapidly; "you made a promise
+on certain conditions to keep quiet for an agreed time, and you have
+done so. No blame can possibly attach itself to you."
+
+"Gertrude?" I said anxiously, taking no notice of Mabel's defence.
+
+She pressed my hand. "I wish you could have told me," she said, in a
+low voice, "but my father was too clever for you. I understand."
+
+"And you forgive me?" I pleaded.
+
+"There is nothing to forgive."
+
+"Of course there isn't," cried Mabel, kissing Gertrude again, "and
+don't let this make any difference to our friendship, dear. You will
+marry Cyrus and I shall marry Dicky--if he goes down on his knees to
+apologize for daring to ask me again--and everything will be well. But
+when I meet your father," ended Mabel wrathfully, "I shall speak my
+mind."
+
+"I don't think that you will see him again," said Gertrude quietly.
+"He has gone to America, and went without a word of farewell or
+explanation to me. I think he will stop there. I see now that my
+affection was wasted on him, since he apparently cares for no one but
+himself."
+
+"Never mind." Mabel caressed her. "You have Cyrus."
+
+"Yes; thank God for an honest man," and she threw herself on my
+breast.
+
+Mabel looked at us, and walked to the door. "I'll leave you together
+and go after Cannington. If Dicky's anything of a lover he'll meet me
+on the road--in his airship, if possible"--and with a laugh to relax
+the tension of the situation she vanished. Shortly, we heard her open
+the front door and pass out. Then only did I speak.
+
+"Don't worry, Gertrude. He isn't worth it."
+
+"He's my father, after all," she moaned; "it's terrible to think that
+he should deceive me so."
+
+"Well, he hasn't done any real harm. He told me that he gave you the
+whole five hundred a year to yourself, more or less."
+
+"That is not true. He has kept me very short."
+
+"Hang him, he----" I stopped. After all, as she said, the man was her
+father, and I could not very well speak what was in my mind to his
+daughter. "Don't think of him any more, Gertrude," I whispered
+coaxingly. "I have you and you have me. Let us forget him."
+
+"It will be best," she said, drying her eyes, for the ready tears had
+filled them, and small blame to her. "Do you think papa will come
+back?"
+
+"No. He will probably stop in the States and marry an heiress."
+
+"Thank God he will not come back," she muttered, half to herself. "I
+never want to see him in England again."
+
+I thought that this was rather a strained view to take of Monk's
+delinquencies, seeing how fond Gertrude had been of him until she
+discovered his true character. But that is the way with true
+affection: it is all or nothing. Gertrude, a truthful, honest girl,
+could never trust her father again.
+
+"No, I could never trust him," she said, speaking exactly what was in
+my mind. "He would only deceive me when it suited him. I always knew
+that my father was more or less selfish, but I looked upon him as a
+child. His character is not a deep one."
+
+"It is deeper than we supposed," I said grimly.
+
+"I can see that now, and--and--oh!" she rose and pushed me away--"I
+must go to my room to think matters over."
+
+"What matters?"
+
+"What you have told me and--and--others," she stammered.
+
+I caught her hands. "Gertrude, what is it?"
+
+She wrenched away her hands and glided towards the door. "I daren't
+tell you, I daren't tell you," she whispered, and her lips were as
+white as her face as she waved me back. "Wait, wait," she muttered,
+"when I can make up my mind, you shall know all." And she disappeared.
+
+"All what?" That was the question I asked myself as I returned to the
+inn. Apparently Gertrude knew something more about her father than
+what I had told her. But what could it be that could so move her to
+tears? Of course the discovery of her father's doubtful behavior had
+given her a shock, but it scarcely explained her uncontrolled emotion.
+I began to wonder if Mr. Monk had any connection with the Mootley
+murder. But, on reflection I could find no connecting link. Until
+Gertrude gave me her entire confidence, I could not explain anything.
+
+"Her entire confidence!" I stopped short when the two words flashed
+into my mind. I remembered that Gertrude had refused to give me the
+name of the mysterious person who had driven her out of the back door
+by the mere sight of him. Yes--him, for I truly believed that the
+person in question, although she had kept me in ignorance of the sex,
+was Walter Monk. On this assumption it was easy to guess why the poor
+girl had refused to speak the name. She dreaded lest her father should
+be implicated in the crime, and so, in the face of the danger to
+herself, had held her peace even to me, her staunch friend and devoted
+lover. This was what had brought her tears so readily. Notwithstanding
+she had seen him in the shop--as I now believed--she had hitherto
+refused to credit him with the murder. But the sudden discovery of the
+duplicity of which he was capable had aroused in her breast the latent
+doubt to active life. She now wished to be alone in order to consider
+if her father was guilty of murder as he had been guilty of deception.
+At least that was my belief, although I had little grounds to go upon.
+But Gertrude, as I had always thought, was shielding someone whom she
+had seen in Mrs. Caldershaw's shop. Who could that someone be but her
+father, since that relationship alone would be a powerful motive for
+her to hold her tongue, even at the risk of losing her liberty? But,
+try as I might, I could not see how Walter Monk could be connected
+with the death of Anne Caldershaw.
+
+That same evening after dinner, Weston and I walked back to Tarhaven
+with the brother and sister. The sky was clear, and the atmosphere was
+not too chilly: also we walked along the cliffs under a full wintry
+moon. Naturally Weston and the girl he loved were together, and seemed
+to be quarreling pretty freely. In fact, Dicky told me that night,
+when we walked back, that several times he had attempted to propose
+again, but that Mabel had always laughed at him, so that he could not
+get the words out. She teased him and tantalized him, and drew him on
+and I repulsed him like a true daughter of Eve, so that his cold,
+scientific blood--to put it picturesquely--began to warm. Perhaps this
+was what the young minx desired. At all events, Dicky Weston
+understood her after that walk to Tarhaven much better than he had
+ever understood her before, and began to think that there were other
+things in the world than airships.
+
+Cannington and I walked behind, chatting and smoking. Mabel either had
+not found time to tell him of her discovery, or had thought it best to
+leave the explanation to me. At all events Cannington knew nothing,
+so, to be beforehand, I judged it well to relate what I knew.
+
+"Boy," I said abruptly, when we had settled well into our swing, "I
+have something to tell you: something you should have known before.
+And would have known," I added emphatically, "had I not been bound to
+hold my tongue for a certain period."
+
+"What are you talking about, Vance?" asked Cannington, turning a
+surprised and youthful face to mine.
+
+"Listen, and don't get your hair off!" said I, then rapidly and
+clearly told him of my recognition of Marr as Monk: of the
+conversation I had enjoyed with him in the London chambers, and
+finally detailed how Mabel had seen the photograph in The Lodge
+drawing-room which had proved the two men to be one. The boy listened
+quietly enough, although once or twice I heard him swear under his
+breath. "Well," said I, when I had finished, "do you blame me?"
+
+"No," he said promptly, "since you arranged that the man should drop
+Aunt Lucy's acquaintance, and should drop courting Mab, I don't blame
+you. But I wish you had told me when the fortnight was up."
+
+"My dear boy, how could I? You were going to Italy, and it was useless
+to communicate the news by letter. Especially," I added, "when Monk
+went to America, and intends apparently to stop there."
+
+"Yes, yes. I suppose you acted for the best. But what a beast!"
+
+"Come, that's a trifle hard," I protested. "Monk has a legal right to
+the name of Marr and has plenty of money. He is not a bad match for
+Mabel."
+
+"I never liked him," said Cannington truculently, "and I am glad Mabel
+did not listen to him."
+
+"She said that she never intended to listen to him, and now you may be
+sure that she will be Lady Mabel Weston very shortly."
+
+"That depends upon Dicky's behavior," said Cannington sharply; "unless
+he is all that I can desire he sha'n't marry my sister."
+
+"You leave things in the hands of Mabel, my son. She'll manage the
+affair all right. But Marr----"
+
+"Damn him! I should like to give him a thrashing."
+
+"I don't see upon what grounds you could, Cannington. It is true that
+he suppressed the fact that he had a grown-up daughter, but that is
+not a crime, and the suppression was due only to vanity. I daresay he
+intended to tell the truth if Mabel had accepted him."
+
+"I daresay," muttered the boy, still wrathful, "but I wouldn't give
+the little beast the benefit of the doubt. I can't exactly call him to
+account either legally or socially, I suppose, but if he dares to
+speak to me again----" Cannington's fist clenched itself in his
+deerskin glove.
+
+"I don't think you will set eyes on him for many a long day," I said
+carelessly; "he'll stop in the States and marry."
+
+"What does his daughter say?"
+
+"She is very much cut up at the way in which he has behaved. Fancy his
+having all that money--one hundred thousand pounds--and keeping his
+daughter down to the simple necessaries of life."
+
+"Perhaps he hasn't the money at all," said Cannington abruptly.
+
+"He must have," I insisted; "look at the motor car he drove in: and
+then his rooms are beautifully furnished."
+
+"He might have got all that by swindling."
+
+"In that case, you certainly are justified in thrashing him, since he
+obtained an introduction to Lady Denham under false pretences. But I
+don't think Mr. Monk has the nerve to swindle."
+
+Cannington laughed grimly. I had never seen the easy-going boy so
+angry. "I think he has the nerve for anything, after what he has
+done--even for murder, Vance."
+
+I started, remembering my belief that Gertrude was shielding her
+father. "I don't understand."
+
+"He might have murdered Anne Caldershaw."
+
+"Oh, nonsense. Mr. Monk wasn't even in the neighborhood."
+
+"Mr. Walter Monk, under his real name, wasn't: but Mr. Wentworth Marr
+was!"
+
+"Cannington?"
+
+"Don't you remember how I told you that Marr called on that mess
+shortly before we arrived. He was stopping at the Lion Hotel in
+Murchester, and went off without seeing me again."
+
+"Then you think that he went to Mootley to see Anne Caldershaw and
+murdered her straight away?"
+
+"I can't be sure that he murdered her," said Cannington doubtfully,
+"but you can see for yourself that the man is game for anything.
+According to what you tell me, Mrs. Caldershaw was murdered for the
+sake of that glass eye, which contains the clue to a fortune. Monk or
+Marr, or whatever you like to call the beast, might have murdered the
+woman and stolen the eye and have got the money. I daresay," added
+Cannington, with a grim laugh, "he is really wealthy."
+
+"I can't believe it," said I, desperately hoping against hope, for it
+was unpleasant to think that Gertrude might be the daughter of a
+criminal. "Long before the Mootley murder, he was courting your sister
+as a rich man."
+
+"I daresay: he might have anticipated the fortune. However, that is my
+opinion, Vance, so you can take it or leave it. I don't want to hear
+the man's name again. I only hope he'll have the good sense to stay in
+the States, as I sha'n't answer for my temper when we meet."
+
+"All right, boy, don't get your hair off with me."
+
+"I haven't," said Cannington stiffly, "but the whole affair is
+unpleasant."
+
+"If it is for you, think what it must be for me, when I am going to
+marry the daughter of such a rotter."
+
+"You will keep to your engagement, then?"
+
+"Of course," I returned indignantly. "What do you take me for?"
+
+"A jolly good chap," said the boy, giving me a friendly dig. "I expect
+she--the lady, I mean--is worth it. Mabel says that she is no end of a
+beauty."
+
+"Mabel is one of the few girls who can praise beauty in another. For
+that pretty speech she shall have the best wedding present I can
+procure."
+
+"It may not be wanted," grunted Cannington.
+
+I laughed and looked ahead at the pair quarreling in the moonlight.
+"On the contrary, I shall have to see to the matter at once," said I
+lightly.
+
+On that night when I got back to the inn and retired to bed I thought
+long and deeply. Cannington's chance remark about Marr being in the
+neighborhood during the time the crime was committed convinced me that
+the man had been to Mootley. Gertrude had caught sight of him when she
+was in the back room, and had fled. For this reason she had declined
+to tell me the name of the mysterious person. And again, the presence
+of the glass eye on the drawing-room table was explained in a
+reasonable way. Monk had left it there, and apparently by chance,
+since, knowing, he would never have allowed such evidence of his guilt
+to remain there. How he had recovered it again I could not say, as he
+had been with me all the time until we re-entered the drawing-room
+together. It might be that Gertrude, in spite of her denial, had
+chanced on the eye, and, remembering her father's presence in the
+shop, had concealed it, thinking--and with good reason--that he was
+guilty. Even to me, under the circumstances, she would deny the truth,
+so I did not blame her overmuch. But I arranged in my own mind to see
+her the next day and learn for certain if she really believed her
+father to be guilty. On the grounds set forth he assuredly seemed to
+be.
+
+But when the next day came, I did not call on Gertrude, for--as the
+saying goes--I had other fish to fry. At ten o'clock I received a
+telegram, asking me to be in London that afternoon at three o'clock.
+And the wire was from Mr. Walter Monk, or, as it was signed, Wentworth
+Marr. "Come up to my rooms at three to-day," ran the wording, "S.
+threatens. I want you to deal with him. WENTWORTH MARR."
+
+There was a prepaid reply, so I sent an answer saying I would be in
+Stratford Street at the appointed time. Then I sat down to consider
+the meaning of the summons.
+
+"'S. threatens.' That is, Striver is on the old man's trail. Humph! So
+Mr. Monk has returned from the States, where he had intended to
+remain. I daresay Striver followed him there and forced him to return.
+Now I wonder if Striver accuses Monk or Gertrude? That is the
+question. He may be threatening Monk with his daughter's disgrace so
+as to force him to get her to marry himself--Striver, that is. Or else
+he suspects Monk and can prove his guilt. Or else----" I stopped, and
+put the telegram into my pocket. "The crisis seems to be approaching,"
+said I very prophetically. And I was right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+A DANGEROUS POSITION
+
+
+I could have seen Gertrude before leaving for London, but I did not
+think it wise to do so. She would certainly ask questions, and if, by
+chance, I let slip that my visit was to her father, trouble would
+ensue. When had he returned from America? Why had he returned from
+America? For what reason did he wish to see me? Where was the letter
+or telegram, which I had received? These questions Gertrude would
+assuredly ask, and if I answered them truthfully, she would probably
+insist upon coming with me. That would be impossible, as her presence
+would only complicate matters. And Heaven knows they were sufficiently
+complicated as it was.
+
+For this reason I simply sent a note saying that I had been called to
+London on business, and drove over to Tarhaven in Mrs. Gilfin's trap
+to catch the midday train. I just managed to escape Cannington, whom I
+saw in the street, as I drove up to the station, and was glad that he
+had not noticed me. I did not wish to enter into further explanations,
+and invent theories, and conjecture possibilities. So many lies were
+being told and so many secrets were being kept, that it was difficult
+to understand the actual position of affairs. The corner shop at
+Mootley seemed to have been a kind of rendezvous for all manner of
+people, and on that fatal evening Mrs. Caldershaw appeared to have
+held quite a reception. Gertrude, her father, Striver, and Miss
+Destiny had all been making for that goal, and the consequence of
+their presence--in a broad sense I speak--had been the death of the
+old woman. The sole person whose innocence could be proved beyond all
+doubt was Miss Destiny, as she had not arrived until I had discovered
+the body of Mrs. Caldershaw. Of course I truly believed that Gertrude
+was innocent, but the police might have taken a different view. For
+this reason I was anxious to learn the exact state of things with
+regard to Striver and Monk. In my opinion one of the two was guilty,
+and I anxiously waited for three o'clock to learn the absolute truth.
+Then, being enlightened, I should know how to act.
+
+At three o'clock I drove in a taxi to Stratford Street, and was
+admitted by a demure-looking man in black--Monk's valet, I suppose--to
+the flat. Apparently the servant expected my arrival, for he led me
+directly into the Moorish smoking-room where I had previously been.
+Striver and Mr. Monk were both present, seated in opposite chairs and
+glowering--as the Scotch say--at one another. They resembled a couple
+of ill-tempered dogs chained together. Monk, I thought, looked haggard
+and worn and anxious, quite different to his usual complacent self.
+But Striver's handsome face wore a determined, confident expression. I
+judged that he was master of the situation. This augured ill for
+Monk's innocence. As soon as I entered the elder man, quivering with
+nervousness, rose quickly to his feet and rushed forward to clasp my
+hand. "I am so glad you have come, Vance," he said, dropping his
+affected speech. "I need your assistance in dealing with this--this--
+blackmailer."
+
+"That's a lie," growled Striver, who looked dangerous, and probably
+was; "why don't you introduce me as your secretary?"
+
+"Yes," cried Monk, his under lip twitching, "that's what he calls
+himself, Vance--my secretary. He followed after me to New York, and
+has been in my company ever since. To explain his presence I called
+him my secretary. But he is a blackguard--a blackmailer."
+
+"I have never asked you for a shilling," retorted Striver with a
+shrug.
+
+"No, you ask me for what I value more--the hand of my child."
+
+I sat down and laughed outright, in spite of the seriousness of the
+situation. "Hasn't Mr. Striver given up hope in that quarter?"
+
+"No, I haven't," snarled the gardener, "nor shall I. I intend to marry
+Gertrude."
+
+"Miss Monk, to you, if you please. As to your marrying her, that is
+out of the question. She is engaged to me, and I don't intend to give
+her up. Now, Mr. Striver, I haven't come here to listen to bombast and
+froth, but to hear facts. For what reason do you persecute Mr. Monk?"
+
+"I don't persecute him. I just followed him to New York to ask his
+help in marrying Ger--well, Miss Monk, if you will have it so."
+
+"Mr. Monk can't help you there," I said calmly. "We'll see about
+that," said Striver, with an evil look.
+
+"Of course. That is why I am here. Mr. Monk, would you mind giving me
+a cigar, please? I recommend one to you also, Striver. Smoking may
+soothe your nerves."
+
+"Mind your own business."
+
+"Oh, your nerves are my business, since they may lead you into making
+mischief. Thank you, Mr. Monk," I said, taking the cigar he passed me.
+"A light, please." I struck a match. "Now," I ended, when comfortably
+smoking, "let me hear all about it."
+
+"All about what?" demanded Striver, annoyed by my coolness.
+
+"About the means you propose to use in forcing Mr. Monk into
+supporting your preposterous desire to marry his daughter."
+
+"He is guilty of my aunt's murder."
+
+"It is a lie, a lie," cried Monk, sitting down and clasping his hands.
+
+"Last time we had the pleasure of speaking together, Mr. Striver," I
+said easily, "you accused Miss Monk; now you assert her father to be
+the guilty person. On what grounds do you base your last accusation? I
+know those on which you base your first, and I told you to tell them
+to the police. Instead of doing this you attempt to coerce an old man.
+I had some sympathy with you, because you loved in vain; now I have
+none, as I think you are simply a scoundrel, using illegal means to
+accomplish the impossible."
+
+"How dare you!"--he sprang to his feet with flashing eyes--"how----"
+
+"That will do, my man," I interrupted coldly, "sit down, and speak
+when I ask you questions."
+
+"I'll break your head," he muttered between his teeth, but obeyed.
+
+I laughed. "I think we tried physical conclusions at The Lodge, and
+you got the worst of it. Hold your tongue, confound you," I commanded
+sternly. "Mr. Monk!" I turned to my future father-in-law, who was
+shivering with apprehension, "you say that this person accuses you of
+murdering Anne Caldershaw?"
+
+"Yes, he does. He came here and learned that I had gone to America and
+followed. He has never left me since."
+
+"Why didn't you kick him out?"
+
+"I couldn't, I couldn't," said Monk, shivering again, while Striver
+sneered. "He threatened to tell the police. I kept him near me as my
+supposed secretary, and have been compelled to pay his expenses."
+
+"Oh, you can easily do that, Mr. Wentworth Marr," scoffed Striver,
+"seeing that you have secured the fifty thousand pounds which
+rightfully belongs to your daughter, Miss Gertrude."
+
+"What?" I cried, alive with curiosity.
+
+"It's not true," said Monk hastily, and his face grew red with anger,
+"the money I have comes from my Australian cousin, whose name I took
+in accordance with the conditions laid down in the will. I told you
+so."
+
+"Yes, and I did not believe you." "Mr. Vance--" Striver shifted his
+position so as to face me--"I truly believed when I left Burwain that
+Miss Gertrude was guilty, on the grounds I explained to you at The
+Lodge. I came to London to see Mr. Monk, whom I knew to be
+masquerading as Marr----"
+
+"I did not masquerade," broke in Monk indignantly.
+
+"Shut up," said Striver contemptuously, "and let me tell my story in
+my own way or it will be the worse for you."
+
+"No threats, Striver. Tell me the story without side issues; I am
+aware that you learned about Mr. Monk's change of name. You doubtless
+came here to say that if he didn't help you to marry Miss Gertrude you
+would denounce her to the police."
+
+"Yes, I did," said Striver sullenly, "but I learned from the caretaker
+of these rooms that Mr. Monk--Marr, the man called him--had gone to
+New York, and had left an address to which his letters were to be
+forwarded. I got that address----"
+
+"The caretaker had no right to give it to you," cried Monk
+indignantly.
+
+"Oh, a little money soon makes that sort of person speak," sneered the
+gardener. "However, I had no difficulty in learning where Mr. Monk was
+stopping in New York. I had plenty of cash, with my aunt's legacy and
+my own income, to say nothing of the sale of the corner shop lease to
+Giles, so I determined to follow. I reached New York in due course,
+and compelled Mr. Monk to take me as his secretary, so that I could
+keep him under my eye."
+
+Monk groaned. "I have had a cruel time with you; a cruel time."
+
+"Better than you deserve. I swear," added Striver, turning again to
+me, "that I never believed Mr. Monk to be guilty until I found the
+eye."
+
+"What?" I sprang to my feet in sheer astonishment. "You found the
+eye?"
+
+Monk, changing alternately from white to red with nervous fear, would
+have burst out into emphatic denial, but Striver cast such a black
+look in his direction that the words died on his lips. Then the
+gardener took out of his pocket a small morocco case, such as
+jewellers use to enclose watches, and passed it along to me. I opened
+it silently, and there, on the puffy white silk, lay a glass eye. "I
+found that," said Striver slowly, "while searching the luggage of Mr.
+Monk."
+
+"You had no right to search my luggage," whimpered Monk, "it was most
+unfair."
+
+"Unfair be hanged! You were so certain that Miss Gertrude was
+innocent, and talked so much about defending her with your life that I
+began to suspect you of the deed. I hunted, when you were out, amongst
+your luggage and papers for some proof of your guilt. I found my
+aunt's glass eye."
+
+"I never saw it before," cried Monk, rising in his excitement; "you
+placed it amongst my papers to incriminate me."
+
+"Mr. Vance," said Striver coldly, "look at the initials on the outside
+of that case. You will see they are Wentworth Marr's initials--W. M.
+They also stand for Walter Monk," ended Striver with a sneer, and when
+I glanced at the case I saw that he spoke the truth.
+
+"The case is mine, I admit," said Monk, trying to speak calmly, "it
+was in my dressing-case----"
+
+"Where I found it, containing the eye," put in Striver sharply.
+
+"You did not, you did not. The case was empty, as I was wearing the
+watch--this watch." Monk jerked a golden chronometer out of his
+waistcoat pocket. "The jeweller, whose address is inside the case, can
+prove that the watch was in it when he sold it to me."
+
+"I daresay," sneered Striver quietly, "but you wore the watch and
+placed the eye in the empty case. Yes, and with that eye you learned
+the secret of the whereabouts of Miss Gertrude's fifty thousand
+pounds, and you have been living on it under the name of Wentworth
+Marr. The story of your Australian legacy and Australian cousin is a
+mere invention."
+
+"I tell you I have spoken the truth. I deny everything."
+
+"Do you deny that you were in Mrs. Caldershaw's shop?" I asked,
+preventing Striver from speaking by a gesture.
+
+Monk stared and winced. "How do you know that?"
+
+"Mr. Wentworth Marr was at Murchester on the day when the crime was
+committed. He came down in his motor and stopped at the Lion Hotel. He
+left a card for Lord Cannington at Murchester Barracks. He also went
+to Mootley to see Anne Caldershaw."
+
+"You can't prove that," said Monk, and wiped the perspiration from his
+brow nervously. "I admit that I did motor down to Murchester to ask
+Cannington to influence his sister in my favor. I called in the
+afternoon and left a card. Then I stopped the night at the Lion Hotel,
+and returned to town the next morning."
+
+"And after you found that Cannington was absent--about three o'clock,
+that was--you went to Mootley to see Anne Caldershaw."
+
+"Prove it, prove it."
+
+"I daresay Mr. Striver can prove it. He was concealed upstairs."
+
+"I was asleep for a time," said Striver abruptly, "but I woke in time
+to see Mr. Monk. I peered down the stairs and saw him talking to my
+aunt in the shop. The sound of their voices raised high woke me up.
+They were quarrelling."
+
+"I don't deny that I was there," said Monk, wiping his face again,
+"but I want to know how Vance learned my whereabouts. It's a guess
+based on my leaving the card on Cannington."
+
+"It is not," I said sharply; "your daughter was in the back room and
+saw you through the open door. She refused to tell me this, but as she
+said that the sight of a certain person drove her hastily out of the
+back door, so hastily that she left her cloak behind her, I believe
+that person was you, Mr. Monk."
+
+"I was simply calling on Mrs. Caldershaw. There was no reason why
+Gertrude should not say so, although I did not know that she was
+there."
+
+"She believed that you were guilty because of your presence there, and
+did not tell me, even though I pressed her. You are the sole person
+she would shield at the risk of losing her liberty, though you aren't
+worth it, Mr. Monk. Am I not right?"
+
+"I admitted that you were right. Striver saw me, and Gertrude saw me.
+I cannot deny my presence in the shop. But that does not prove me to
+be guilty of murder."
+
+"How, then," asked Striver, "did you become possessed of the eye?"
+
+"The last time that I saw the eye was in Mrs. Caldershaw's head,"
+snapped Monk, whose nerves were entirely giving way under the strain
+of cross-examination. "You pretended to find it amongst my baggage and
+slipped it into that case, which is really mine. It's part of your
+plan of blackmail."
+
+"There may be some truth in that," I remarked, for, knowing what I
+did, I had not much belief in Striver's story.
+
+"How can you talk such damned nonsense?" cried Striver roughly, "when
+you know that Mr. Monk has been posing in London as a rich man under
+the name of Wentworth Marr. He has five hundred a year under his
+brother's will, and that house with the acres surrounding it. Where
+did he get his money?"
+
+"My Australian cousin----"
+
+"Oh, hang your Australian cousin. I don't believe he ever existed. Mr.
+Vance, I swear that I found that eye amongst Mr. Monk's luggage. You
+must believe, in the face of that," he pointed to the case, which was
+still open in my hand, "that Mr. Monk is guilty."
+
+"No, I don't, if this"--I shook the case--"is all the evidence you can
+bring."
+
+Monk heaved a sigh of relief, and Striver stared uneasily. "On what
+grounds do you say that?" he asked grimly.
+
+"On the grounds of common-sense, Mr. Striver. I saw the eye on a small
+table in the drawing-room of The Lodge, near the middle French
+window."
+
+"Mr. Monk placed it there: it only proves his guilt more
+conclusively."
+
+"I think not. In the first place, if Mr. Monk had been possessed of
+the eye he would scarcely be such a fool as to leave it about. In the
+second case, when I re-entered the drawing-room the eye had
+disappeared, and all the time from when I saw it to when I returned to
+the room Mr. Monk was with me. He could not have secured it again,
+even though--according to you--he placed it there, which I don't
+believe. _You_ took the eye from the table."
+
+"How dare you say that!" cried the man, but his color changed,
+and I guessed that my chance remark asserted the truth. "On what
+grounds----"
+
+"You have supplied the grounds yourself," I said quickly, "by saying
+that you found the eye in Mr. Monk's dressing-bag. You found the watch
+case, but you certainly brought the eye to place in it, for the
+furtherance of your infernal plans. You were working in the garden,
+Striver, and saw by my face, when I came out to meet Mr. Monk, that I
+was startled. Out of curiosity and jealousy you went up to the window,
+saw the eye, and secured it. Finding that I supported Miss Monk, and
+you could not incriminate her, you made use of the eye to incriminate
+Mr. Monk."
+
+"I do not," he stuttered, changing color again and again.
+
+"You did, and by your own showing. For all I know, you may have placed
+the eye on the table, since it was easy to do so with the window
+open."
+
+"How could I get the eye? Do you accuse me of murder?"
+
+"The police might if they knew all that we know. But I shall give you
+the benefit of the doubt, and say that you found the eye in the shop
+after the murder was committed."
+
+"But according to the police," said Monk doubtfully, "the murder was
+committed for the sake of the eye."
+
+"Of course it was," insisted Striver, "and by you."
+
+"I am perfectly innocent."
+
+"In that case, how did you get your money unless by----"
+
+"Stop!" I interrupted impulsively, "there also I can defend Mr. Monk.
+Long before the murder, he was living as wealthy Mr. Wentworth Marr in
+London, as Lord Cannington informed me. If he did not get the money
+until the eye was found--and by your own showing, Mr. Striver, he
+could only find the hidden treasure in that way--how could he pose
+long before as a rich man? Answer me that, Mr. Striver."
+
+The gardener, seeing that I could beat him on every point, maintained
+a sullen silence. Mr. Monk, cheered by my several defences of his
+actions, leaned forward eagerly. "No doubt this is a false clue," he
+said, pointing to the case; "it may not be the real eye. Striver would
+never allow me to examine it, in case," he smiled bitterly, "I should
+destroy it."
+
+"Which you would have done," said the other bluntly. "I wouldn't trust
+you a single inch, Mr. Monk. The eye is the one worn by my aunt right
+enough, and contains the cipher of which she spoke. Look at the back?"
+
+Remembering the glimpse I had seen of the concave of the eye when it
+was on The Lodge table, I delicately turned over the object of the
+case. It may seem odd that I had not examined it before, but the
+interest of the conversation between Striver and Monk had held me
+spellbound. It was imperative, as is obvious, that I should lose no
+single word of the ill-assorted pair.
+
+However I did now what I should have done before, and tilted the eye,
+to behold in the hollow the piece of silver I had seen before. There
+it lay, and looked more than ever like a threepenny bit. Monk bent
+forward curiously and stared.
+
+"It's a silver coin--a threepenny bit," he explained, half to himself.
+"Gabriel told me that he had engraved the cipher on a threepenny bit,
+but he would never tell me where it was hidden. A very ingenious idea
+to hide it in Mrs. Caldershaw's eye. See, it is fastened by a piece of
+gold wire to the center of the pupil."
+
+It was as he said, the coin was so fastened and in the dense black of
+the pupil appeared the glint of a tiny piece of gold. In no other way
+could the coin have been kept in its place. But as it was sunken a
+good way into the concave of the artificial eye, the same, when worn,
+could not produce any irritation to the wearer. It was, as Monk said,
+a very ingenious idea.
+
+"I never saw it before," he murmured, and I believed that he was
+speaking the truth; "so this is how Gabriel concealed his secret?"
+
+I tried to read what was on the coin, but failed, as the engraving was
+so very small. "Have you a magnifying glass, Mr. Monk?" I asked.
+
+"Not to my knowledge," he said promptly; "however, I'll look for one,"
+and he rose to make a search.
+
+I examined the eye again; then closed the case, and placed it on the
+table, intending to pocket it when I had used the magnifying glass.
+"Though I daresay," said I to Striver, who was seated in his chair
+looking very dejected, "you can tell me what the cipher consists of."
+
+He did not answer my question, but leaned forward and buried his face
+in his hands. To my surprise I saw the tears forcing themselves
+between his fingers. I hate to see a man cry, but on this occasion I
+was glad, for these tears showed that Striver had broken down. He was
+not cut out by nature for a villain, and now that I had thwarted his
+schemes he could contrive no new ones. He was beaten, and he knew that
+he was beaten. I felt quite sorry for him, badly as he had behaved.
+
+"Striver!" I placed my hand on his bowed shoulders.
+
+"Don't touch me," he said in a choking voice, and rising to his feet
+he walked rapidly to the end of the room, where there was an ottoman.
+Here he flung himself down at full length, sobbing bitterly. I
+followed, and waited until the paroxysm passed away. Then, finding him
+in a gentler mood, I hoped to get at the truth, which I felt convinced
+he knew. And indeed, seeing that he had been concealed in the house
+during the commission of the crime, he must know who had stabbed his
+aunt. Unless----
+
+"Striver," I said sharply, "pull yourself together and answer me. Did
+you murder this unfortunate woman?"
+
+"No," he sobbed in a stifled voice, "I did not. I was hidden in the
+bedroom, and came down to find her dead. The rest, as to taking your
+car and escaping, I have told you."
+
+"What's to be done, then?" I muttered, much perplexed.
+
+"This is to be done," he said, sitting up, with his handsome face
+tear-stained and his hair dishevelled, "you have won and I have lost.
+I surrender all claim to the hand of Miss Monk."
+
+"You never had any claim," I reminded him sharply.
+
+"Perhaps not," was his dejected reply, "but I am a man and I cannot
+help my feelings. Gertrude is the only woman I have ever loved, and
+the only woman I shall ever love. She is lost to me, because she loves
+you. Well, I daresay it is better that she should marry a gentleman.
+But I wish--I wish----" He broke down again.
+
+"Striver," I said, for the third time, and placed my hand on his
+shoulder, "I am very sorry for you, although you have not acted well."
+
+"All is fair in love and war," he said, sitting up again.
+
+"There are some things a gentleman cannot do, even to win the woman he
+loves, Striver," I said gently, "so all is _not_ fair in love and
+war."
+
+"I am not a gentleman: I never pretended to be a gentleman."
+
+"Then be one now," I urged, "you know the truth of this murder since
+you were in the house all the time. I believe myself that you are
+innocent."
+
+"Why should you think that?" he asked in a curious voice and with a
+curious look.
+
+"Because I believe you to be a good fellow, Striver. Your nature has
+been warped by the influence of this mad love and by the influence of
+your dead aunt. She always promised you Miss Monk as a bride and this
+fifty thousand pounds for yourself."
+
+"Yes, she did," he said, his bright blue eyes steadily fixed on me.
+
+"Well, then, these things have drawn you into wrongdoing. You love
+Miss Monk. Prove your love by preventing her from getting into trouble
+about this murder. Until the truth is discovered, she is in danger of
+arrest because of her unfortunate visit to Mootley and because of the
+cloak left behind."
+
+"Perhaps! perhaps. But her father will say nothing, he dare not."
+
+"No, but Miss Destiny might. She knows that her niece was at Mootley
+on that night, and threatens to betray her unless she receives half
+the fifty thousand pounds when it is found."
+
+"Miss Destiny threatens," said Striver rising, "and for the sake of
+money. Ah! that old lady always was a miser. Well?"
+
+"Well, can't you show your love for Miss Monk and thwart the aunt by
+telling the truth."
+
+"Why, do you think I know the truth?"
+
+"You were in the house all the time. I feel certain that you can
+unravel the mystery."
+
+Striver looked away, and became very silent. At this moment Monk
+entered, and began to bustle about. "Hunter," this was his valet, I
+afterwards heard, "says that there is a magnifying glass in the desk
+here."
+
+I paid no attention to him as I was looking at Striver. After a long
+silence the gardener spoke. "I do know the truth," he said slowly,
+"and I shall save Gertrude's good name. Marry her, and may you be
+happy."
+
+"But----" I cried, following him as he was walking towards the door.
+
+"I have nothing more to say," said Striver, and disappeared. I
+wondered if he was guilty after all, and whether he intended to
+confess. Before I could think out the matter, Monk touched my elbow.
+
+"I can't find the magnifying glass," he said, handing me the case,
+which he had picked up off the table; "better go to a jeweller and
+borrow one."
+
+"Thanks," I said, slipping the case into my pocket and reaching for my
+hat and coat. "Good-day, Mr. Monk."
+
+"Don't go," he urged me. "I have much to say, and much to thank you
+for."
+
+I put on my coat and made for the door. "I decline to remain in your
+company, Mr. Monk," I said, "because you are a scoundrel, and if you
+were not Gertrude's father I would thrash you willingly, old as you
+are. For her sake only have I saved you."
+
+"How dare you speak to me in this way!" he cried furiously, and
+followed me into the hall, plucking at my sleeve.
+
+"Because it is just as well someone should tell you the truth," I
+retorted heatedly; "you have acted in the most cruel manner towards
+your daughter."
+
+"I have not. I deny it," he panted, looking white and wicked.
+
+"You have lived in luxury in London while she has been practically
+starving down at Burwain. She knows that you are Marr."
+
+"You told her?" he cried, falling back a pace.
+
+"Yes, I was forced to tell her, because Lady Mabel recognized your
+photograph in the drawing-room. I warned you that Lady Mabel was going
+down to Burwain to see Mr. Weston's airship."
+
+"You had no right to tell; you promised, if I went away, to hold your
+tongue."
+
+"So I did for a fortnight."
+
+"Not with regard to Gertrude. I was to tell her myself."
+
+"You never came back to tell her, but bolted to America. You never
+intended to return, and would not have done so had not Striver forced
+you to defend yourself. I can't say if you are guilty, or if he is
+guilty, but I am quite sure that one of you is guilty. However, you
+have money from your Australian cousin, Mr. Monk, a new name and a
+secretary who knows what a blackguard you are, so I wish you joy for
+the future. My advice to you is to go to America, and never return.
+Gertrude is done with you."
+
+This struck him to the heart. "My little child--my own child."
+
+"Exactly, and you deserve your fate entirely. Good-day and good-bye,"
+and I walked out of the chamber and down the stairs. That was the last
+I ever saw of Mr. Walter Monk, alias Mr. Wentworth Marr.
+
+On the way back to Tarhaven, and in the train, I opened the case to
+again examine the famous glass eye. It was gone: the case was empty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+THE CIPHER
+
+
+Here was a discovery! Well might I talk about the disappearing eye,
+for it vanished every time it was found. It had disappeared out of
+Mrs. Caldershaw's head when she was murdered; it had disappeared from
+the drawing-room table, and now it had disappeared from the watch case
+of Mr. Walter Monk. And this final vanishing seemed to be the
+strangest of all. I could not understand how it had taken place since
+I was in the room and the closed case was on the table all the time.
+Striver could not have secured the eye, for I had held him in
+conversation.
+
+Then I remembered that Mr. Monk had been hunting the smoking-room for
+a magnifying glass in order to decipher the inscription. Engaged with
+the repentant gardener, I had paid very little attention to his
+movements, so it was probable that when my back was turned he had
+taken the opportunity to slip the incriminating eye into his pocket.
+Also I recalled the fact that he had handed me the closed case
+himself, recommending me to get a magnifying glass from a jeweller.
+Had I been clever enough to mistrust him--as I had every reason to--I
+should there and then have opened the case to see that the eye was
+safe. But I had not done so, and now, in the train, when Monk was out
+of reach, I discovered the loss.
+
+Of course I guessed that he had taken it, so as to obviate any
+accusation being brought against himself, and probably by this time he
+had got rid of it for ever. It was useless for me to do what I settled
+on the spur of the moment to do, and return by the next train to
+London from one of the intermediate stations. Monk would only lie, and
+I could not force him to surrender the eye--always presuming that he
+had not destroyed it--by threatening to tell the police. The
+fulfilment of such a threat meant danger to Gertrude, and he would
+simply laugh in my face. There was nothing for it but to continue my
+journey to Burwain and consult with Gertrude. If I placed the matter
+before her, she might see a way out of the dilemma.
+
+And it was a dilemma, for I had not found time to decipher what was on
+the threepenny bit, and so could not hope to find the hidden money. If
+I only knew what kind of a cryptogram Gabriel Monk had engraved on
+that piece of silver, I felt certain that in one way or another I
+could read the same. Failing my own capability, I knew a man in London
+who possessed a Poe-like talent for unravelling such puzzles. And for
+Gertrude's sake I desired to find her fortune, since Mr. Monk--now
+that he had nothing to gain, and knew that his daughter loved him no
+longer--might withdraw the money he allowed her. He might even sell
+the house and grounds, for though the income was entailed the property
+was not. Then Gertrude would be homeless and penniless until her
+father died and the five hundred a year by the entail reverted to her.
+No wonder I was vexed at the loss of the eye.
+
+On arriving at Burwain, Mrs. Gilfin informed me that Lord Cannington
+had been inquiring for me, and, failing my company, had passed the day
+in Weston's yard. I did not get to the inn until seven o'clock, so
+Weston, always working late, had not put in an appearance. Then I
+found--and to my great satisfaction--that Dicky had gone in his motor
+to Tarhaven with Cannington to dine and sleep at the Buckingham Hotel.
+The boy had left a note asking me to come over also when I returned,
+but I sent a wire from the village post-office, excusing myself on the
+ground of fatigue, and sat down to my dinner. Afterwards--about eight
+o'clock, in fact--I walked to The Lodge to explain my absence to
+Gertrude.
+
+She was in the quaint drawing-room, arrayed in a dinner dress of some
+soft, white, clinging material, and looked almost as pale as her
+frock. There were dark rings round her eyes, and a weary look on her
+face. Without a word she came forward to kiss me, and sighed as she
+laid her head on my breast.
+
+"What is the matter, my own?" I asked, kissing the soft dark hair.
+
+"I am so tired," she whispered. "I have had a white night, as the
+French call it, and all day I have been longing to talk to you. Why
+have you not been to see me, Cyrus? What took you to London? I was so
+disappointed when I received your note. I wanted you so much--so very,
+very much."
+
+"What for, dear?"
+
+"I made up my mind last night to tell you everything."
+
+"What if I know everything already?"
+
+Gertrude withdrew from my arms and looked at me in a frightened way.
+"What do you know? What have you learned?"
+
+"Dear," I took her hand and led her to a chair near the fire, "sit
+down, for I have much to tell you. I have been to London in answer to
+a telegram from your father."
+
+She rose from the seat in which I had placed her. "Oh," she exclaimed
+in a fright, "has he returned to England? How foolish, when----" She
+stopped.
+
+"When what, Gertrude?" I asked, looking at her keenly.
+
+"If you know all, you must know why I wish my father to remain absent
+from England," she replied, sinking to the chair with a white face.
+
+"Never mind what I know, tell me."
+
+"My father," she began, and then her voice died away in her throat and
+she cast a frightened look at the door.
+
+I knelt at her feet and took her cold hands within my own. "We are
+quite safe, dearest. Tell me, tell me, trust me fully." I knew pretty
+well what she was about to say, but wished her to voluntarily give me
+her full confidence.
+
+"It was my father I saw through the door," she whispered, bending over
+me anxiously, "he called to see Anne on that day. She came back and
+told me he was there. I did not wish to meet him, as already I had
+caught a glimpse of his face. Therefore I ran out of the back door,
+leaving my cloak behind me."
+
+"Why did you not wish to meet him?"
+
+"Because he would have insisted upon knowing why I had come to
+Mootley. If he had learned what I had found in the diary he would have
+got the secret from Anne, and then the money would have passed into
+his possession, to make bad use of. I thought it better to go, and I
+fled on the impulse of the moment. I had no time to think."
+
+"Dear, I believe that your father knew Mrs. Caldershaw possessed the
+secret, else why should he have come to see her."
+
+"Then you guessed that I was shielding him?"
+
+"Yes, I guessed, and now I know for certain."
+
+"Who told you, Cyrus?"
+
+"Your father himself."
+
+Gertrude rose unsteadily to her feet, grasping my arm. "But--but," she
+stammered, "has he confessed that he is guilty."
+
+I rose also and at the same moment. "No, dear. He is the last man to
+confess anything that would get him into trouble. He swears that he is
+innocent."
+
+"Oh, I hope so--I think he must be." She clasped her hands and her
+eyes shone in her pale face like twin stars. "Papa is foolish and--as
+I see now--selfish. But he would never commit so cruel a murder."
+
+"I think he would do anything, provided he was not found out," I said
+in a cynical manner. "Of course you left before the termination of his
+interview with Mrs. Caldershaw, so you can't say for certain if he is
+innocent or guilty. But Striver accuses him."
+
+"Striver," she grasped my arm again in her fright, "and he was
+concealed in the bedroom, but he was asleep. He said that he was
+asleep."
+
+"He woke--according to his story--at the sound of voices, and saw your
+father in the shop. He accuses him of the murder because he found the
+glass eye amongst your father's luggage in America."
+
+"In America. Has Joseph been to America?"
+
+"Yes. He followed your father there to force him to insist upon the
+marriage--which he apparently intended to bring about by threatening
+you. Then he found--so he says--the glass eye in your father's
+dressing-bag and accused him. To keep Striver quiet, your father made
+him his secretary and brought him back to England. This morning I
+received a wire from your father asking for my assistance. I went up
+and"--I shrugged--"that is all."
+
+"It is only the beginning," said Gertrude quickly. "Sit down and tell
+me all about your interview. First--to set my mind at rest--is my
+father guilty?"
+
+I reflected. "I really can't say. Sometimes I think he is and again
+I think he is not. There is much to be said for both opinions.
+Striver--if anyone--knows the truth, and yet he only bases his
+accusation on the finding of the glass eye."
+
+"But surely," said Gertrude, in great agitation, "that is strong
+evidence."
+
+"Yes," I assented dryly, "if it were true. But I believe that Striver
+stole the glass eye from yonder table and took it to America to
+frighten your father into helping with the marriage. If he had real,
+true evidence against Mr. Monk, he would not have resorted to faked
+evidence with the glass eye. On those grounds I believe that your
+father is innocent."
+
+"Oh, what a relief!" She sighed and sat down.
+
+"On the other hand," I continued quietly, "your father has made me
+change my opinion by stealing the eye again."
+
+"What do you mean, Cyrus?"
+
+I took my seat beside her and gained possession of her hands. Then I
+related all that had taken place in the Stratford Street rooms. She
+interrupted me frequently with ejaculations. When I had finished, she
+appeared more struck with Striver's sudden collapse than with any
+other portion of my narrative.
+
+"He knows the truth and he will save my good name," she said slowly to
+herself, "that would seem as though Joseph knows for certain that my
+father is innocent, since his name is my name."
+
+"Not exactly, my dear. His name, by Act of Parliament, is Marr, and
+yours is Monk. But when you change it to Vance," I gathered her into
+my arms to kiss her fondly, "there will be no need for Striver to
+bother."
+
+"There will always be a need until the truth becomes known," murmured
+Gertrude anxiously. "I shall never be safe from my aunt's threats
+until the assassin of Anne is found."
+
+"Well, then, let us leave it to Striver," I said cheerfully. "He is
+ready to behave decently, now that he finds you will never be his
+wife. Meanwhile, I want you to go to London to-morrow and see your
+father."
+
+Gertrude shrank from the suggestion. "Oh, I don't want to see him
+again after he has treated me so badly. Besides, he must be angry with
+me."
+
+"Never mind. You are strong enough to face his anger, which is sure to
+be of a puny kind. I wish you to see him, so that you may regain the
+glass eye, which I feel certain he took out of the case when my back
+was turned."
+
+"Why do you want the glass eye?"
+
+"To read the cipher, and find the money."
+
+Gertrude shook her head. "I feel as though that money would bring us a
+curse, Cyrus. Already it has caused a murder and no end of
+unhappiness. Besides, you can never read the cipher."
+
+"I should try, dear, and if I fail there is a clever friend of mine
+who can unravel anything. As to the money, or rather the diamonds,
+they are rightfully yours and ought to be in your hands. Get the eye
+and----"
+
+I did not finish the sentence. Eliza suddenly opened the drawing-room
+door to deliver a letter to me. "It came by express," said Eliza, "and
+the boy is waiting at the door."
+
+"Take him into the kitchen and feed him," I said, glancing at the
+superscription. I did not recognize the writing. "You can go, Eliza,"
+for she still lingered--out of curiosity, I expect.
+
+I opened the envelope, and besides the letter--a long one written on
+foolscap--there was a folded paper, which fell to the floor. Gertrude
+picked it up, while I turned instantly to the signature. "Joseph
+Striver!" I read in wonderment. "What can he be writing about to me in
+such a hurry that it requires an express delivery?"
+
+"Read! read!" cried Gertrude, with bright eyes, and crushing up the
+folded paper in her hands without looking at it. "He said that he
+would save my good name. Perhaps that letter contains the truth."
+
+I hastily skimmed the contents, then walked towards the door. Gertrude
+very impatiently followed me. "Where are you going? Why don't you read
+me the letter?" she inquired imperatively.
+
+"I shall read it when I have dismissed the messenger. It's all right,"
+and at once I went to the kitchen. Here I gave the boy a shilling and
+sent him off. On my return to the drawing-room I found Gertrude
+looking at the folded paper, which she had smoothed out.
+
+"What does this mean?" she asked bewildered, and I looked also.
+
+The paper contained a rude drawing representing a kind of bird.
+Whether kite or owl or barn-door fowl I could not say. Around were a
+number of spots, and beneath were two large letters: an "A" reversed,
+and an "S" twisted in the wrong direction. "What does it mean?" asked
+Gertrude.
+
+"Let us read the letter," said I, sitting down, and we did so
+together, she looking over my shoulder.
+
+Striver wrote that by this time no doubt I had found out the
+disappearance of the glass eye. Mr. Monk had taken it, he said, when
+my back had been turned, and had destroyed it. The glass portion he
+had smashed up, and had afterwards gone out to throw the silver coin
+with the inscribed cipher into the Thames. Thus wrote the gardener:
+"You can never learn the cipher from the eye itself. But I enclose a
+drawing I made of what was on the threepenny bit while it was in my
+possession. What it means I can't say, or I should have found the
+treasure for myself. You were right, Mr. Vance, in thinking that I had
+taken the eye from the drawing-room table. I did. When you left the
+window I saw that you were disturbed, and, moreover, was very jealous,
+as I fancied you had just exchanged a word with Gertrude. On the spur
+of the moment I ran to the window when you turned the corner of the
+terrace with Mr. Monk, and saw the eye. I was greatly amazed, as I
+could not think how it came to be there, and I was still more amazed
+to think you had not secured it----"
+
+"I was a fool," I interjected, "but I had not my wits about me."
+
+The letter went on to say that, finding he would make no impression on
+Gertrude with me beside her, Striver had taken the eye to America in
+order to lay a trap for Monk. But he swore solemnly that Monk did not
+possess the eye, "unless," wrote Striver, "he placed it on the
+drawing-room table. I think myself that he is innocent, as I watched
+him all the time he was talking to my aunt. He did not leave the shop,
+but after a quarter of an hour he went away down the road. I believe
+he left his motor car at Murchester and walked over. Hence--as no one
+came to the corner shop on that afternoon--his visit was not noticed.
+After he departed I went back to the bedroom to lie down, and told my
+aunt I was weary. She did not come up the stairs and I did not go down
+them. She went into the back room, and I lay down again in the
+bedroom. Then--but I shall not tell you the truth now. When the time
+comes you shall know all, and Gertrude need have no fear that she will
+ever be troubled again by the Mootley murder."
+
+"Thank God for that," said Gertrude; "but who is guilty?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders. "We must wait until Striver speaks out.
+Perhaps he killed his aunt himself, and wished to escape abroad before
+confessing. But let us read the rest of his letter," and I continued.
+
+The writer went on to say that he intended to leave England, as he had
+plenty of money. He could not return to Burwain to see Gertrude the
+wife of another, so probably he would go to Australia.
+
+"Very foolish of him to tell us that, seeing he may be guilty," I
+said.
+
+"Cyrus, he knows that he can trust us," she said rebukingly. "I am
+sorry for the poor man. He is making amends."
+
+"I shall say so when I hear that he has told the truth about the
+murder," I remarked grimly. "How he intends to do so I can't say. But,
+look, Gertrude, do you see how he finishes? Your father, after getting
+rid of the cipher coin in the river, came back and took all his things
+away. He told Striver--here it is--that he was returning to America
+and would never come to England again. Well"----I paused.
+
+"Poor papa," sighed Gertrude, "why could he not have come down and
+asked me to help him? After all, he is my father, and I could never be
+hard on him."
+
+"I don't think he is worthy of your regrets," I said, for really Mr.
+Walter Monk's behavior sickened me, "but, as he has departed, there is
+no use your going up to see him to-morrow about the eye."
+
+"Especially as the eye is now destroyed," said Gertrude, taking up the
+paper, "and the cipher is set down here. What do you make of it,
+Cyrus?"
+
+I put Striver's letter into my pocket--there was no more writing after
+the information of Mr. Monk's departure for America--and bent over the
+paper. "It's a bird in the middle of a lot of dust," I said.
+
+"Dust." Gertrude pointed out two of the specks. "Then dust has wings."
+
+"Oh, then it's a bird midst a cloud of insects."
+
+"And these odd signs?"
+
+"An 'A' reversed, and an 'S' turned in the wrong direction."
+
+Gertrude thought for a moment: then her face brightened. "Cyrus, what
+kind of a bird is this?" and she pointed.
+
+"It might be a peacock," I said ironically. "Mr. Striver has not much
+notion of drawing."
+
+"Do you think it is an eagle?" she asked in an excited tone.
+
+"Good heavens, no!" I retorted. "Did you ever see an eagle like that?"
+
+"Joseph is not an artist." said Gertrude impatiently.
+
+"He certainly is not clever."
+
+"Neither are you, Cyrus, for all your talent. Oh, to think that the
+secret hiding-place should be in this very house."
+
+"What?" I stared alternately at Gertrude and at the paper.
+
+"Can't you see? Don't you understand," she cried, greatly excited, "an
+eagle amidst a cloud of flies--_Aquila non capit muscas_."
+
+I stared at her. "I have heard that sentence before."
+
+"And you have seen the drawing better executed in carving. Cyrus, what
+is the first letter of the motto?"
+
+"'A'--for Aquila--eagle. Yes?"
+
+"And the last letter?"
+
+"'S,' the terminal for _muscas_ for flies. Well?" She caught me by the
+hand. "Come into the smoking-room and light the lamps."
+
+"Oh, by Jove!" I saw her meaning now. She referred to the heavy beam
+across the smoking-room to which Mr. Monk had drawn my attention. We
+ran, hand in hand, like children, into the dark room. Gertrude struck
+a match and I, taking the box from her hand--and a shaking hand it
+was--struck another. In a few moments the powerful oil lamps were
+illuminating the room brilliantly. We both looked at the beam.
+
+"An eagle catching flies," cried Gertrude, pointing--"_Aquila non
+capit muscas_. My ancestors' queer old motto. The diamonds are there."
+
+"Hidden in the beam?"
+
+"Of course. Come and get a ladder from the outhouse. No; that won't
+do, as Eliza is so filled with curiosity. I don't want her to suspect
+anything. What are we to do?"
+
+"I can place this chair on the table, and as I am tall I can easily
+reach up to the beam," I said, suiting my actions to my words. "Close
+the door, Gertrude, so that Eliza can't come spying."
+
+Gertrude, who was all excitement, promptly locked the door. "But how
+are you to get the beam open? Shall I get an axe?"
+
+"Nonsense," I said, consulting the paper of Striver; "this is the
+hiding-place right enough. The beam must open in some way, but how?"
+
+"What about the reversed letters?" questioned Gertrude, "they are not
+reversed on the beam."
+
+"No; but they are on the paper. I know, Gertrude, these letters on the
+beam are raised so as to give one a grip. Get a candle, will you, or
+hand up a lamp."
+
+So as to lose no time she stretched with the lamp. I held it close to
+the raised carving of the beam, and particularly examined the first
+and last letters, "A" and "S." Circular lines appeared faintly round
+these, which were not visible round the other letters. I handed the
+lamp back.
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Gertrude, replacing the lamp on its
+stand.
+
+"Twist these first and last letters into the position indicated by the
+cipher. Then we shall see what will happen."
+
+I put forth my strength to the "A," and found that with an effort it
+twisted with considerable ease. "Hurrah!" I cried, "this is the
+secret."
+
+The final "S" was more difficult to move, but at last I contrived to
+get it twisted completely round. Gertrude's bright face looked up
+anxiously. "Stand away; stand away," I cried hastily.
+
+It was just as well that I had warned her, for suddenly the whole
+broad board containing the motto clattered to the floor before I could
+save it.
+
+"The diamonds! the diamonds!" cried Gertrude excitedly.
+
+A cavity was revealed, and I passed my hand along. It was empty.
+"Gertrude, the diamonds are gone!" I cried in dismay, and our spirits
+fell to zero.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+THE AIRSHIP
+
+
+Who had removed the diamonds? That was my thought for the next
+twenty-four hours, but I could not answer my own question. I certainly
+remembered how Striver insisted that Mr. Monk had secured possession
+of the fortune. But only by getting possession of the eye could he
+learn where the jewels were hidden; and by Striver's own showing he
+had not been thus fortunate. Only when destroying the eye had he had
+it in his hands, and then, instead of reading the cipher, he had
+thrown the coin upon which it was written into the Thames. Moreover,
+for many months Monk had been masquerading as Wentworth Marr, and had
+possessed the money to keep up the farce. Undoubtedly--as I thought,
+after much reflection--the story of Australian legacy must be true.
+Mr. Monk, on the face of it, could not have looted the beam of its
+valuable contents.
+
+But what astonished me was that Monk should have thrown away the coin,
+although it was natural enough that he should have destroyed the eye.
+But why did he not at least attempt to read the cipher? It seemed to
+be an extremely easy one, as the repetition of the beam's carving on
+the coin suggested the Latin motto. The reversed letters suggested a
+little hard thinking, but presented no great obstacle. The late
+Gabriel Monk had cut away the inscribed board, and behind had hollowed
+out a place for the reception of the diamonds--in a bag, I presume.
+Also he had cut out the first and last letters of the saying in
+circular form, and to these had attached pieces of iron. When the
+letters were placed straightly these pieces of iron caught on to the
+inner part of the beam, and so held the inscribed board; when
+reversed, they released the same. It was ingenious but not difficult
+of solution, and I wondered that Monk had not read the cipher. If he
+had, he certainly would have guessed that the beam in The Lodge
+smoking-room held the jewels, and in that event would have searched.
+On this assumption I thought that the man could not have examined the
+cipher. But why he should not have done so puzzled me considerably.
+
+However, the case stood thus: Monk had returned to America, or at all
+events had left England; Striver also had taken his departure, and the
+jewels which belonged to Gertrude had disappeared. The gardener
+intended--so he said--to tell the truth and unmask the assassin of his
+aunt, but unless he intended to denounce himself when at a safe
+distance, I could not imagine what he intended to say. So far as I
+could see there was nothing to do but to wait some communication from
+Striver. Meanwhile I urged Gertrude to marry me during the first month
+of the New Year.
+
+"But I am afraid to marry you until the truth about Anne's murder is
+known, Cyrus," she objected. "Aunt Julia still threatens me."
+
+"Let us go and see your aunt now," I said. It was next morning that
+this conversation took place. "We can explain matters to her, and she
+will be forced to see that you are innocent. After all, she only
+desires the half share of the fortune. When she learns it is lost she
+will hold her tongue, having nothing to gain by talking."
+
+Anxious to end all suspense, Gertrude agreed, and we paid an early
+visit to Miss Destiny. In the cold greyness of the day her tin house
+looked more dismal than usual, and as we walked through the jungle
+path I wondered how a lady bred and born could live in so miserable a
+place. She was not rich, certainly, but she could have afforded a
+better dwelling. Yet I daresay she was happy enough in her sordid
+home, since all she cared for was money, and, so long as she possessed
+actual gold to gloat over, cared little for the comforts it could
+bring. It was a strange way of finding happiness.
+
+Miss Destiny opened the door herself, as Lucinda--it appeared, from
+what she said--had gone to buy some food in the village. The little
+old lady was dressed in her usual threadbare black silk, with the
+addition of a knitted woollen shawl over her spare shoulders. She
+looked extremely shabby: also pinched and haggard. But her black eyes
+were as bright as ever, and she seemed to possess considerable
+vitality in her wiry frame.
+
+"The lovers," she said, with a shrill laugh, and inviting us to enter.
+"So it is not to be Joseph after all, my dear Gertrude."
+
+"It never was Joseph," replied her niece quietly. "Aunt Julia, I have
+asked Cyrus to come and see you about this threat you used to me."
+
+"Threat!" Miss Destiny raised her eyebrows. "My dear child, I used no
+threat."
+
+"You said that if Gertrude did not give you half of her fifty thousand
+pounds when found, that you would tell the police she had been to
+Mootley."
+
+"Oh, I really didn't mean that, Mr. Vance," said Miss Destiny,
+cringing. "It was only a joke on my part."
+
+"Then you don't accuse me of murder?" asked Gertrude, bluntly.
+
+"No, dear. Certainly not."
+
+"And you don't want half Gertrude's fortune?" I questioned.
+
+Miss Destiny's eyes narrowed and she looked venomous. "I certainly
+should have half the money. Gabriel said that he would leave me a
+legacy, and he did not. Yet I slaved for many years looking after his
+house."
+
+"You got board and lodging for your services," said Gertrude coldly.
+
+"I ought to have got a legacy," insisted Miss Destiny. "Gabriel
+promised me some money. But he left his income and the property to
+Walter and the rest of his savings to you. You owe me half, and I mean
+to have half. I don't say, dear," added Miss Destiny significantly,
+"that you murdered Anne. But if the police knew that you had paid her
+a visit to ask about the eye you might be asked unpleasant questions."
+
+"I did not ask about the eye, because I did not know until later that
+the eye contained the cipher," said Gertrude calmly, "but after
+reading the diary I certainly went to ask Anne to give me the cipher,
+so that I might find what rightfully belonged to me."
+
+"Half of it only," snapped Miss Destiny, "and you certainly ran away
+with Mr. Vance's motor car, because I saw you myself in your white
+cloak. If you are innocent--mind, I don't accuse you of murder--but if
+you are innocent, why did you run away so strangely?--a guilty
+conscience: a guilty conscience, my dear."
+
+"Miss Destiny," I said indignantly, for the malice of the little
+creature annoyed me, "it was Joseph Striver who wore Gertrude's cloak
+and ran off with my car. He told us so himself."
+
+"So you say," she sneered.
+
+"And I say more. Listen," and forthwith I related all that had been
+discovered, down to the destruction of the glass eye and the throwing
+away of the silver coin by Walter Monk. Miss Destiny listened
+unbelievingly, and with a sneer. Apparently she did not credit a
+single word of what I was saying. But when I came to the end she
+interrupted me with a scream.
+
+"The eye destroyed, the eye destroyed!" she cried, starting to her
+feet with surprising activity. "Oh, what a fool, what a fool! Now the
+fortune can never be discovered."
+
+"It has been discovered," put in Gertrude.
+
+"What!" Miss Destiny wheeled round venomously and eagerly. "You have
+found the diamonds you told me that Gabriel mentioned in his diary?"
+
+"We have found the hiding-place," I said sharply. "Striver sent me a
+copy of the cipher, which he took when the eye--as I have told
+you--was in his possession."
+
+"Then give me half, give me half!" shrieked Miss Destiny. "If you
+don't I'll go to the police. I swear I'll go to the police. I
+don't believe this young man's lies. You were in the house and
+you--you--you----" She choked with anger.
+
+Gertrude arose, revolted by this exhibition of sordid greed, and could
+not speak. I answered for her. "The jewels are gone, Miss Destiny," I
+said quietly.
+
+"Gone!" Her shrill voice fell to a mere whisper, and the wild light of
+avarice died out of her black eyes. "Gone! impossible!" then her face
+lighted up again fiercely. "This is a lie to cheat me of my share!"
+she shouted.
+
+"Even if the jewels had been found," I remarked, in a cool, level
+voice, "you would have had none of them, since they belonged to
+Gertrude. I am strong enough to save her from your malice. Either
+Striver or Walter Monk is guilty. If you go to the police I shall go
+also, and tell what I have told you----"
+
+Gertrude caught my arm. "No, Cyrus, no. My father----"
+
+"Dear, this is not the time for half measures. You did your best to
+save your father by refusing to tell me. But if he is guilty he must
+be brought to book, if only to thwart this woman's evil intentions."
+
+"Oh, have done with your chatter," cried Miss Destiny, stamping like a
+small fury. "Tell me the truth. Are the jewels indeed gone?"
+
+"Yes. You will never see them again."
+
+"Who took them? I insist upon knowing who took them?"
+
+"I don't know. If I did I would get them back again."
+
+"Then hunt for Joseph Striver," said Miss Destiny furiously, "he is
+the thief."
+
+"Impossible. He sent me the cipher."
+
+"Yes," she sneered, "after he had stolen the jewels he could easily
+send you the cipher. But he had the eye, by your own showing. He must
+have read the cipher. He had taken the fortune. Oh," she shook her
+fists in the air, "I wish these two hands were at his throat."
+
+The little creature looked so evil, as she shook and quivered in the
+sordid room, that I touched Gertrude's shoulder. "Go away, dear. This
+is no sight for you." Then, when she obeyed me and passed outside, I
+turned to Miss Destiny. "You will understand that the jewels are lost
+for ever."
+
+"I'll hunt the thief down; I'll hunt him down," she breathed savagely.
+
+"Even if you do, the half share will not come to you. I will look
+after Gertrude's interest."
+
+Miss Destiny laughed shrilly. "Ah, you marry her for her money. What
+love!"
+
+"Gertrude at present has no money, nor do I want any money with her.
+But if Striver has the jewels he shall be forced to give them up.
+Meanwhile, if you say a word to anyone against Gertrude I shall tell
+my story."
+
+"I'll say no word until the jewels are in Gertrude's possession. It is
+not worth my while to say anything until then. But when she has the
+fortune I shall have my half, or she shall hang."
+
+"You are mad," I said, recoiling from her venomous looks.
+
+"Yes; mad at being tricked and cheated by Joseph Striver. Oh, I know
+the man. I might have guessed that he would not keep faith with me.
+The fortune is gone, the fortune is gone," and she dropped into a
+chair.
+
+"Yes," I said, with my hand on the door; "therefore hold your tongue."
+
+Miss Destiny only crouched in the chair rocking herself to and fro.
+"The fortune is gone," she moaned; "twenty-five thousand pounds was to
+have been my share. I have lost twenty-five thousand pounds. Oh me! oh
+me!" And leaving her still weeping and wailing over the loss I
+departed.
+
+Whether Miss Destiny was right or wrong regarding Striver's possession
+of the diamonds I could not say. Day after day went by and the
+gardener did not appear to denounce the assassin of his aunt as he had
+arranged to do. Nor could he be found anywhere, although I employed a
+detective to search for him. We discovered that Mr. Monk had given up
+the lease of his chambers and had sold his furniture. He had
+disappeared to America, and evidently had no intention of returning.
+But his lawyer still continued to pay Gertrude enough to keep The
+Lodge going and herself in clothes. But Striver had vanished like a
+water bubble; he had dissolved into thin air, and all we could do was
+to wait until he chose to reappear. I pointed out to Gertrude that,
+Miss Destiny's mouth being closed--she would not speak until the
+jewels were recovered, a very remote contingency--and her father along
+with the gardener having passed out of our lives, it would be best to
+get married. Then we could leave Burwain and settle in London. As Mrs.
+Vance she would forget all the storms of the past, and with me as her
+companion could journey under brighter skies. But Gertrude refused
+steadily.
+
+"Until my name is absolutely cleared by the assassin of Anne
+Caldershaw being brought to justice, I shall remain as I am, at The
+Lodge."
+
+"And what if the assassin is your father, Gertrude?" I asked.
+
+"I don't believe it," she replied firmly. "Papa is weak and selfish,
+but he would never murder an old woman so cruelly. I believe that
+Striver is guilty, and has got my fortune, as Aunt Julia says."
+
+"In that case he'll never tell the truth."
+
+"He said that he would save my good name, and I believe that he loves
+me enough to do so. Wait, Cyrus, wait; the end will come and the truth
+will come to light. Only then can I marry you."
+
+With this promise I was forced to be content, and remained at the
+Robin Redbreast, which seemed likely to become my permanent home. With
+Gertrude I spent a quiet Christmas, as Cannington had to return to his
+duties at Murchester, and Weston was invited to spend the festive
+season at Lady Denham's country house. There he saw a great deal of
+Mabel, and she relented from her attitude of snubbing him, for he came
+back during the first week of the New Year with a joyful light in his
+eyes.
+
+"Congratulate me, Vance. Mabel has accepted me as her husband."
+
+"Oh," I shook his hand warmly, "I congratulate you with all my heart,
+since you have secured a charming wife. But can I congratulate Mabel
+on the possession of an absent-minded husband?"
+
+"Oh, I am not so bad as I was," said Weston, with quite a new ring in
+his voice. "I have had my lesson, Vance, and see that Mabel requires
+some attention: in fact, a very great deal. When we marry she shall do
+as she pleases, and have all the money she wishes to spend."
+
+"I think she would rather have love," I said gravely.
+
+"I give her love," he snapped rather crossly. "I'll be with her morn,
+noon, and night if she wishes. All I have to do is to launch my
+airship, and then I shall marry Mabel and be happy ever afterwards."
+
+"Having solved the problem of flying?" I queried.
+
+"I really believe that I shall do so," he said, his face lighting up.
+"Come and see my airship, Vance. Next week I intend to try a flight.
+It's nearly ready. I have asked a reporter down from London, and will
+admit the public into the yard, and we shall have a great day."
+
+"Is Mabel coming?"
+
+His face fell. "No; she says she is jealous of my airship. But she
+will come down to take a trip in it when I make a successful flight. I
+asked Cannington, but he can't get away from Murchester. Never mind.
+You will be there, and you can bring Miss Monk."
+
+"Thanks, but we sha'n't trust ourselves in your confounded balloon."
+
+"It's not a balloon," flared up Dicky angrily, and for the rest of the
+evening he explained his ideas. I was not sufficiently an engineer to
+appreciate the cleverness of them.
+
+During the week before Weston's trial flight, a rumor ran through the
+village, which surprised everyone. It was said that Miss Destiny
+intended to go away from Burwain. As she had lived in the village all
+her life and seemed to be as deeply rooted as a tree, it appeared
+strange that in her old age she should venture to seek fresh fields
+and pastures new. But I guessed that she intended to go in search of
+Striver, whom she believed had possession of the jewels. I tried to
+get speech with her, but she would not admit me into her house, nor
+would she come to The Lodge in response to an invitation from
+Gertrude. I wished to learn if she knew the whereabouts of the
+ex-gardener, since I guessed she was bent upon finding him. But I
+could not learn where she was going, although Lucinda set the rumor
+afloat in the village that her mistress intended to leave Burwain. But
+I could guess the devouring flame of avarice in Miss Destiny's heart
+which made her thus uproot herself. She would go through fire and
+water to get the jewels, which she believed Striver possessed, and I
+found myself pitying the man, guilty as I believed him to be, when I
+thought of that halting Nemesis of a witch coming up to his side. Miss
+Destiny was starting on the chase, and she would never stop hunting
+until she pulled down her quarry. Death alone would end her pursuit.
+
+However, the days passed by and she still lingered in her miserable
+home. Burwain began to wear quite a festive air during those early
+January weeks, for reporters came from London to inspect the airship,
+and many idle people gathered outside the yard to pick up chance
+information. Dicky showed me his craft at a private view, and
+explained the mechanism to me, with certain reservations touching upon
+his particular method of flying. His secrets, I understood, had to do
+with the steering of the vessel, and with some way he had of driving
+her forward in the teeth of the wind. I am so ignorant of technical
+terms that I cannot explain much that he told me: nor would it be
+fair, since inventors do not wish their ideas to be stolen. But I grew
+almost as excited as Dicky when the great day arrived.
+
+It was a Tuesday morning, fine and sunny, with scarcely a breath of
+wind, and the inventor could have secured no finer weather for his
+attempt. A crowd of people from Tarhaven and Gattlingsands and other
+places came to see the experiment, and quite a number of reporters had
+appeared, representing the most popular London journals. The gates of
+the yard were thrown open, and a considerable crowd gathered within
+the hitherto inviolated precincts. Amongst them I walked, with
+Gertrude beside me. Everyone in the village was there, I verily
+believe, to see the novelty of an airship taking flight. Even fat John
+Gilfin, with his nearly as stout wife, waddled along, looking at the
+queer machine bulking largely in the middle of the yard.
+
+The airship consisted of a slim, cigar-shaped bag, netted over. From
+this a long narrow trough of basketwork was slung, at each end of
+which was a propeller. The light machinery to drive this was in the
+middle, but this being hidden under a bonnet of tin, I could not see
+what was used to set the wheels working. That was one of Weston's
+secrets. The inventor himself was busy in the trough adjusting various
+parts of the gear, and shouting out orders to different workmen. The
+whole ship itself was bound to earth by sundry ropes and was tugging
+and straining at them like a thing of life. When those ropes were
+loosened the ship would flash up into the air like a released bird,
+and then Dicky, seated behind his machine in the basketwork cradle,
+would show his skill in steering it this way and the other. As the
+wind was extremely faint, he would have every advantage. I forgot to
+say that there were steering vans like wings spreading from the
+trough, and these could be raised or lowered at will. But, wanting
+technical knowledge, as I have explained, I fear my description of the
+famous craft is not particularly good. It was an airship, that was all
+I knew, and I was curious to see it climb the sky.
+
+Amongst the crowd I unexpectedly saw the quaint little figure of Miss
+Destiny, dressed in black as usual. I pointed her out to Gertrude, and
+we tried to get near her, as I was still curious to learn if she had
+any idea of Striver's whereabouts. But she kept her keen eyes on our
+every movement and dodged us with such success that we never could
+approach her.
+
+"What can she be afraid of?" asked Gertrude, perplexed.
+
+"She's afraid of being asked questions," I replied.
+
+"I believe she knows where that man is to be found--though Lord only
+knows how she can have learned his whereabouts. She intends to run him
+down and get the jewels all to herself."
+
+"But what will she do with them?" asked Gertrude, bewildered.
+
+"Gloat over them," I replied shortly, "but see, the airship will soon
+be on the point of starting. Six ropes," I added, pressing forward,
+"if it needs that strength to hold down yon huge bag of gas, I wonder
+how Weston proposes to reach earth again. He'll have to remain a sky
+bird for ever."
+
+The interest of the crowd became intense as four of the ropes were
+loosened and the airship strained desperately at the remaining two.
+Weston, as he afterwards informed me, had a method of releasing, or
+separating the gas in some way, whereby he could descend if he chose.
+Then, by connecting up the gas again in the cigar-shaped bag, he could
+ascend. I do not exactly understand how it was managed, but it had to
+do with the transmission of gas from the upper bag to a lower one
+under the trough, which I only noticed when the four ropes let the
+ship float a trifle high.
+
+Although interested in the airship I was much more taken up with the
+movements of Miss Destiny. She likewise became absorbed in the start
+of the strange craft, and forgot for the moment to keep her eyes on
+us. I drew Gertrude's arm within my own and stole forward to where she
+was pressing gently through the watching crowd. Gertrude uttered an
+ejaculation, and pointed towards the gate.
+
+"There is Lucinda," she said, in startled tones, "and two policemen
+with her."
+
+I looked, and sure enough Lucinda walked beside a stern-faced man in
+plain clothes, whom I knew. He was none other than my old friend,
+Inspector Dredge of Murchester. Behind walked two burly policemen, and
+they all four came steadily towards the crowd gathered round the
+airship.
+
+"What can be the matter?" whispered Gertrude agitated.
+
+I thrilled, as a premonition of what the presence of Dredge meant,
+flashed into my mind. However I had little time for consideration, as
+the second rope was released from the ground and Weston curled it up
+within the car. Only one rope remained to be loosened. As Weston laid
+his hand on it to draw it up, giving the signal to the men below to
+let go, Lucinda's cry, wild and shrill arose.
+
+"Fly, mistress, fly! They're after you: they'll get you: they'll----"
+a policeman's hand on her mouth stopped her further speech.
+
+Miss Destiny, who was immediately in front of me, turned quickly at
+the sound of the girl's voice. Her face grew deathly white when she
+saw the Inspector forcing his way towards her, and she looked round
+like a trapped animal. Heedless of the roaring of the crowd, excited
+by the sight, Dredge came up to Miss Destiny and laid a heavy hand on
+her shoulder. "I arrest you in the name of the King for the murder of
+Anne----"
+
+He got no further. Miss Destiny with a sudden snarl twisted out of his
+grip, at the very moment Weston gave the signal for the men below to
+loosen the last rope. Being in the fore front of the crowd, she sprang
+into the open space and ran forward.
+
+"Take me with you, take me with you," she screamed, and, as the men
+let go of the rope, she grabbed hold of it with desperate and
+inconceivable quickness.
+
+The next moment the airship shot up into the radiant sky, and at the
+end of the rope, which dangled from the car under Weston's hands, Miss
+Destiny spun like a spider. She uttered no sound, she made no
+movement, but hung on desperately while the ship soared. I caught a
+glimpse of the amazement on Weston's face as it lessened before my
+eyes. A shout of terror at the little woman's terrible position came
+from the crowd. Dredge stood where he was, paralyzed, and Gertrude
+screamed with fright. Lucinda beat her hands in despair.
+
+The ship soared and swung to the right, and that black figure still
+clung to the rope. Weston--as we could see--was making preparations to
+descend, but owing to some difficulty could not get his gear to work.
+By this time the ship was at a considerable height, and everyone was
+watching with terror the happening of this midair tragedy. How Miss
+Destiny hung on so long I could not guess: she seemed to have the
+strength of a fiend. Suddenly a gust of wind caught the ship, as she
+receded, and the rope, with the little figure twisting at the end,
+swung towards the rear of the car. In a second it was in the grip of
+the stern propeller, and we saw the sudden jerk of the rope upward. A
+moment later and it was jerked out of the gripping hands of Anne
+Caldershaw's murderess. She fell, a speck through the blue sky, and a
+groan went up from the crowd at the sight of that terrible death.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+THE WHOLE TRUTH
+
+
+So Miss Destiny was the criminal after all, and her confession alone
+revealed what had taken place in Anne Caldershaw's back room, shortly
+before I had arrived in my motor car to search for adventure.
+Inspector Dredge came to The Lodge that same evening to relate all
+that had taken place, and to inform us how he had come to Burwain. The
+little woman's body was found broken in pieces on the outskirts of
+Tarhaven, and small wonder, considering the terrible height from which
+she had fallen. We did not hear until the next day what Weston
+thought, as his airship proved to be unmanageable, and drifted over
+toward the island of Grain, where he managed to descend. There he
+remained for the night, and came back by train to Burwain in the
+afternoon of the ensuing day. But neither Gertrude nor I troubled
+about Weston's failure or absence. We were far too much taken up with
+the story told by Inspector Dredge.
+
+"As you were so much connected with the matter, Mr. Vance," said the
+stern-faced man, when he appeared at four o'clock in the drawing-room
+of The Lodge, "it is only fair that you should know the truth."
+
+"I also am connected with the matter, Mr. Inspector," said Gertrude,
+"for I----"
+
+He interrupted her with a grave bow. "I know what you would say, miss.
+You were in the back room, and left your cloak there, which was
+afterwards worn by Joseph Striver when he escaped in Mr. Vance's motor
+car. No blame attaches to you, miss, and I quite understand that you
+did not care to incriminate yourself by coming to explain to me. Yet,
+if you had done so," he ended, with rebukeful emphasis, "we might have
+arrived earlier at the truth."
+
+"Who told you all this?" I asked curiously.
+
+"Striver himself--by letter, that is," said Dredge, bringing out some
+papers from the pocket of his overcoat. "He is an accomplice after the
+fact. Miss Destiny, who actually committed the crime is dead, and her
+body--or what remains of it--lies at Tarhaven waiting the inquest,
+which will be held to-morrow. But Joseph will be searched for and
+arrested, as he knew the truth all along."
+
+"Why did he not tell it?" asked Gertrude anxiously.
+
+"I think you are to blame, Miss, or rather your sweet looks, Miss.
+Striver wished to use what he had learned in order to marry you."
+
+"But what did he learn?" I asked, while Gertrude blushed at the
+complimentary tone of the officer.
+
+"I am coming to that," said Dredge calmly, "all in good time, Mr.
+Vance. Two days ago I received a letter from Joseph Striver. It stated
+that he was sailing from a certain port to some foreign land, which he
+refused to name."
+
+"Where is the letter written from?"
+
+"There is no address given, Mr. Vance, but the postmark is that of
+London. It was posted at the General Post Office, so Striver has
+covered up his tracks very carefully. By this time he is doubtless on
+the high seas, and it will be difficult to trace him."
+
+"Well?" I demanded impatiently, "and what did he say in his letter?"
+
+Dredge took out an epistle--written on foolscap, as had been the one
+to me--and spread it out on the table. "There is no need to read it,"
+he said gravely, "as I know the contents by heart."
+
+"Yes; go on." Gertrude and myself were all attention.
+
+"Striver writes that he came to see his aunt, knowing that Miss Monk
+was due for a visit. He was informed of this fact by Miss Destiny.
+Striver went up to the bedroom, while his aunt talked to Miss Monk who
+then arrived. Afterwards, Walter Monk entered the shop, and his
+daughter--you Miss," said the Inspector with a dry nod, "departed by
+the back door."
+
+"I did not wish to meet my father," said Gertrude in low tones.
+
+"So I understand from Striver's letter," said Dredge still dryly. "Well
+then, it appears that Mr. Monk also knew of his daughter's visit to
+Mrs. Caldershaw through Miss Destiny----"
+
+"But why should she have told everyone that I was going?" asked
+Gertrude in an indignant voice.
+
+"Can't you guess, Miss?" asked Dredge pityingly. "Miss Destiny went
+over to Mootley with the intention of murdering the woman."
+
+"For what reason," I asked, anxious to be fully satisfied.
+
+The Inspector heaved a sigh at my apparent stupidity. "You, Miss," he
+said to Gertrude, "had told Miss Destiny of your discovery of the
+diary and of your intention to ask Mrs. Caldershaw for the cipher.
+Your aunt, Miss, then guessed from sundry remarks that Mrs. Caldershaw
+had let fall, that the cipher was contained in the false eye worn by
+the woman. Miss Destiny determined to get that eye even at the cost of
+murder, and so told several people of your proposed visit, so that she
+might throw the blame on them."
+
+"Do you mean to say," questioned Gertrude horrified, "that my aunt
+deliberately intended to have me accused of murder?"
+
+"You, or Striver, or your father," assented Dredge coolly, "she had to
+save her own skin somehow you see, Miss, but to continue, Striver was
+wakened from sleep by a quarrel between Mrs. Caldershaw and Mr. Monk,
+as he waited the cipher, which she refused to give up----"
+
+"Did he know that it was hidden in the eye?" I interrupted.
+
+"I don't think so. He did not say so, from what Striver overheard. But
+he could not get what he wanted, and therefore went away, and walked
+back to Murchester as he had come. He called himself"--Dredge referred
+to the letter--"Mr. Wentworth Marr."
+
+"Yes, yes, we know that," I said hastily.
+
+"It seems to me, Mr. Vance, that you know much which you have not told
+me."
+
+"I had my reasons, and very good ones," said I stiffly.
+
+"No reasons should prevent your helping the police in the execution of
+their duty," said Dredge, with an official air. "However, as things
+have turned out for the best, we can let that pass. When Mr. Monk
+departed," he continued, taking up the thread of his narrative,
+"Striver told his aunt that he wanted to sleep, and returned to the
+bedroom. There he really did fall asleep, but before doing so he heard
+the voice of Miss Destiny."
+
+"But she did not arrive until after the murder," I exclaimed.
+
+"She arrived long before, as you will read in her confession," said
+Dredge grimly. "Let me proceed in due order, if you please. Striver
+stole down the stairs, as he was anxious to learn what Miss Destiny
+had to say to his aunt. He heard her ask for the cipher. Mrs.
+Caldershaw refused to give it up, saying she had it hidden in her
+false left eye, which would never leave her head until she was dead."
+
+"Ah!" said Gertrude, "so that is how Aunt Julia learned about the
+eye."
+
+"I think she knew it before," replied Dredge with a shrug. "However,
+when Striver learned about the eye, he retreated to the bedroom and
+threw himself on the bed to think how he could get it. Then he fell
+asleep. When he awoke it was quite dark and----"
+
+"We know the rest," I interposed quickly; "he came downstairs and
+found his aunt dead. Then he heard me coming, and managed to lock me
+in and escape with my car."
+
+Dredge nodded, glancing meanwhile at the letter. "Yes, Mr. Vance, it
+is as you say. Of course Striver knew that Miss Destiny had murdered
+his aunt, so when she returned to Burwain he taxed her with the crime.
+She denied it and tried to throw the blame on her niece and on Mr.
+Monk. But Striver threatened to tell the police, and the woman
+confessed. She said that she would find the money and give half to
+Striver: also that she would aid him to marry Miss Monk."
+
+"The idea!" cried Gertrude angrily; "as if she could."
+
+"She hoped to force you, by implicating you in the murder. For that
+reason, according to Striver, she left the eye on the table in this
+drawing-room."
+
+"What!" I started to my feet. "Was it Miss Destiny who----?"
+
+"Herself," said Dredge coolly. "She talked to Striver in the garden,
+then went to the window--that one yonder," said Dredge, pointing to
+the middle French window--"and placed the eye on the table, hoping
+that you, Miss, would find it. Then she trusted that you would not be
+able to account for its possession and would be accused of the crime."
+
+"What a wicked woman; oh, what a wicked woman!"
+
+"I think she was, Miss. However, she has paid for her wickedness by a
+most terrible death; if you had seen the body"--He stopped and,
+iron-nerved as he was, shuddered. After a pause he continued: "When
+Miss Destiny placed the eye on the table she went back to talk to
+Striver, and you, Mr. Vance, found them together."
+
+"Yes, I did. But why did Striver go to the window. Did he know?"
+
+"I can't be sure. Since he loved Miss Monk, I don't think he would
+have lent himself to such a wicked plot even to marry her. But he did
+go and secure the eye. Then he----"
+
+"Used it to frighten Mr. Monk, who afterwards destroyed it. Go on."
+
+Dredge shrugged his shoulders. "It seems to me that there is little
+chance of my telling you anything you don't know," he said, folding up
+the letter and replacing it in his breast pocket. "And that is all
+Striver has to say. I got out a warrant on the confession which he
+enclosed, and came here this morning. With two policemen I called at
+Miss Destiny's house, which was pointed out to me. She was away, and
+the girl Lucinda tried to escape to give her mistress warning."
+
+"Did Lucinda know the truth?"
+
+"Yes; she drove her mistress on that evening." Dredge stopped and
+waved his hands. "You'll hear that in the confession."
+
+"Whose confession?"
+
+"Miss Destiny's. Striver did not trust her, and moreover was fearful
+lest he should be accused of the deed. He swore to tell the police and
+give evidence against her unless she wrote out clearly what had
+occurred and signed it. Forced to do so, she did as she was bid, and
+Striver held this confession over her head so as to compel her to do
+his bidding. Lucinda would have warned her mistress, but--guessing
+that Miss Destiny would witness the trial flight of the airship--I
+took the girl with me and went to Mr. Weston's yard. You heard how she
+gave voice and saw how the mistress escaped. So"--he wiped his face
+with a shiver--"that is ended. God have mercy on the black soul of
+that woman."
+
+"Amen to that," I said, while Gertrude wept silently. "But Striver
+seems to have behaved like a scoundrel."
+
+"Never mind, Cyrus, he has made amends," whispered Gertrude through
+her tears--tears of which Miss Destiny was unworthy.
+
+"Here," said Dredge, spreading out another document, "is the
+confession of Julia Destiny, signed by her in the presence of Striver.
+I need not read it," he added, folding up the precious paper and
+putting it away, "as I can give you a hasty précis of the contents. My
+time is short," he glanced at his watch, "I have to catch a train in
+an hour at Tarhaven. I must be brief."
+
+"Yes, go on, and make the telling as short as you can," I said
+anxiously, "for Miss Monk cannot bear much more."
+
+While I fondled Gertrude's hand within my own, the Inspector related
+what Miss Destiny had written. The wicked little woman had intended to
+get the eye, even if she had to kill Anne Caldershaw to force it out
+of the woman's head. She had arranged to bring Striver, Gertrude, and
+Walter Monk to Mootley so as to implicate them, if possible, and save
+herself from being accused of murder. She therefore arranged with
+Lucinda, who was bound body and soul to her service, to drive over
+early to Mootley on the second day of her journey thither. Lucinda,
+with the trap, remained behind a hedge near Murchester, and Miss
+Destiny, evading notice, crept through the fields to the corner shop.
+Striver was up stairs, but she did not know that, as Mrs. Caldershaw
+said nothing. But she learned that Gertrude had been, and saw the
+white cloak left behind in the kitchen, along with one of the blue
+glass-headed pins. She also learned that Monk had paid a visit, so she
+was quite prepared to fasten the blame of her contemplated deed on
+anyone of them.
+
+"Oh, what a devil!" I murmured at this point of Dredge's narrative.
+
+"Indeed you may so," he said, somewhat moved, for the recital was
+really terrible. "Well, then, while seated in the back kitchen Miss
+Destiny, failing to get the eye from Mrs. Caldershaw, watched her
+chance to murder her. She took up the blue glass-headed pin, which she
+knew belonged to Miss here----"
+
+"She gave it to me herself," said Gertrude in a choked voice.
+
+"Of course," Dredge nodded, "and so was certain that when used the
+blame would fall on you. Now how she managed exactly to kill Mrs.
+Caldershaw she does not say," went on the Inspector, wrinkling his
+brow in perplexity. "I think myself she playfully touched Mrs.
+Caldershaw every now and then with the pin to emphasize what she was
+saying. Certainly Mrs. Caldershaw would suspect nothing, until Miss
+Destiny, placing the pin directly over the heart, drove it home with a
+sudden thrust. The woman fell----"
+
+"Dead! dead!" wailed Gertrude.
+
+"Not quite dead," said the precise Dredge: "she was bleeding from
+internal hemorrhage, for she lived for sometime afterwards. Striver
+found her still alive--"
+
+"And so did I," I interposed: "I heard her last moan."
+
+"She bled inwardly to death," said Dredge, rising and buttoning his
+coat. "I must go now, if you will excuse me."
+
+"But the rest of the confession. How did she get the eye?" I asked.
+
+"Pulled it out of Mrs. Caldershaw's head," said the Inspector brutally
+"she then escaped by the back door and went along a path leading
+through the wood of elms. She knew of that, having been to Mrs.
+Caldershaw's before."
+
+"Mrs. Caldershaw told me how to go by that path," said Gertrude.
+
+"One question before you go, Mr. Inspector," said I, following him to
+the door: "If Miss Destiny had the eye for so long in her possession,
+why did she not discover the secret?"
+
+"She could not read the cipher."
+
+"Strange. It is not a particularly difficult one."
+
+"Have you read it?" asked Dredge. "Striver said that he had sent a
+drawing of it to you."
+
+"Yes; we discovered the hiding-place of the jewels and found it empty.
+Now I wonder if Miss Destiny did read the cipher and steal the
+jewels."
+
+"She says she did not, and----" Here Dredge looked again at his watch.
+"I really have no time to say more: you must excuse me," and he
+hurried away rapidly.
+
+I turned to Gertrude when we heard the door close behind him. "Well,"
+said I, with a half smile, "now that the truth has been discovered we
+can marry."
+
+She sobbed. "Oh, Cyrus, can you marry the niece of a murderess?"
+
+"I would marry you, if you committed the crime yourself," I said,
+kissing her fondly.
+
+And marry her I did two months later. Owing to the terrible death of
+Miss Destiny the story of her crime was not made public. There was
+some talk of Lucinda being brought in as an accomplice after the fact,
+but as she apparently was a half-witted creature she was left alone.
+She confessed, however, that after committing the crime Miss Destiny
+had rejoined her, and then the two had driven later to Mootley to meet
+Striver--who Miss Destiny thought was a woman--driving my motor car. I
+have often wondered since at the extraordinary nerve displayed by Miss
+Destiny on that fatal evening. She arrived fresh from the commission
+of a brutal crime and played her part as a startled lady admirably.
+All the time we were talking in Giles' house she had the eye in her
+pocket and knew the whole truth of the affair. I was amazed at the
+strength of character displayed by the frail little creature. It was
+extraordinary that avarice should have driven her to so desperate a
+course. But having taken it, she had managed wonderfully. But for the
+unguessed-of presence of Striver in the house her wickedness would
+never have been discovered. She was buried in Tarhaven, in an
+unhonoured grave, and Gertrude and I strove to forget her and her
+crimes as speedily as possible.
+
+Lucinda vanished when she found that the police intended to leave her
+alone, and I never learned what became of her. Striver also had
+disappeared, and we did not hear that he had been caught, although I
+believe Dredge made several attempts to find out his whereabouts, but
+without success. But of one person we did hear. That was Mr. Walter
+Monk, or as he still continued to call himself, Mr. Wentworth Marr.
+
+On the night before my marriage to Gertrude I was with her at The
+Lodge, and Cannington, who had come down to be my best man, was also
+present. He was in great spirits, and had been much impressed by the
+story of Miss Destiny's wickedness, which I had told him in detail.
+
+"Adventures are to the adventurous," said he gravely. "You certainly
+found a very good one, with a happy termination," and he glanced at
+Gertrude.
+
+"It was strange," I remarked musingly, "that you should have made that
+quotation as being by Wentworth Marr."
+
+"Yes. And at the time when we did not know who Wentworth Marr was."
+
+"Don't speak of him," cried Gertrude with a shudder. "Oh, dear me, I
+never would have believed that my father would act so wickedly."
+
+"Oh, I don't think he acted so _very_ wickedly," said Cannington
+generously, and to set her at her ease; "he changed his name legally
+enough, and was a wealthy man, as we know. All he did was to
+suppress--for obvious reasons--the fact that he possessed so charming
+a daughter."
+
+"Well, it doesn't matter now," I broke in impatiently, for every
+mention of her father brought sorrow to Gertrude's face. "Monk or
+Marr, or whatever he chooses to call himself, is over the seas, and
+won't come back. Gertrude to-morrow takes my name and my good fortune.
+Also Mabel is to marry Dicky in three months, so that ends
+everything."
+
+"Except Dicky's desire to conquer the air," said Cannington, smiling.
+"He is awfully cut up over the failure of his last attempt. He wants
+to begin and build another vessel straight away. But Mab swears she
+will not marry him if he doesn't promise to leave airships alone for
+at least twelve months after she becomes his wife."
+
+"That," said I gravely, "will give Dicky time to invent something
+worth talking about. I thought his airship was rotten myself. It
+failed in every point. Much better for him to keep his money and not
+waste it."
+
+"Oh, Mab will see to that," said Cannington lightly. "But see, Miss
+Monk wishes to speak to you, Vance. What's up?"
+
+"Cyrus," said Gertrude quietly, and producing a letter, "and you, Lord
+Cannington, I received this," she tapped the letter, "from my father
+by this morning's post."
+
+"Oh, my sainted aunt!" cried Cannington vivaciously, "what's it about.
+But perhaps," he rose to his feet, "you don't want to tell me. I'll go
+to the smoking-room while you talk to Vance here."
+
+Gertrude put out a detaining hand. "No, don't go, Lord Cannington. I
+know that Cyrus has no secrets from you. I wish both of you to hear
+what became of the diamonds which caused all the trouble."
+
+"I believe that Striver has them," I said firmly.
+
+"I believe that Miss Destiny got them," said Cannington, nodding.
+
+"You are both wrong," replied Gertrude with strange composure, "my
+father possessed the diamonds."
+
+"Your father! Never!" we exclaimed, quite amazed by the speech.
+
+"My father," went on Gertrude with a firmness of which I had not
+deemed her capable, considering what she had come through, "found a
+copy of the drawing on the silver piece in Mrs. Caldershaw's false eye
+amongst the papers of his brother shortly after Uncle Gabriel's death.
+He soon discovered the secret, which I wonder Aunt Julia did not find
+out, so easy did it appear to be."
+
+"She was less clever than wicked," I said quickly. "Does your father
+tell you that in the letter, Gertrude?"
+
+"Yes," she said, with a heavy sigh. "He heard from his lawyers, to
+whom I gave notice that I was to marry you, Cyrus, and he writes," she
+shivered, "to send me his blessing."
+
+"Oh, Lord!" This was from Cannington, who apologized.
+
+"You need not make excuses to me," said Gertrude, rather bitterly,
+"for indeed, as you do, Lord Cannington I wonder at the man. He robbed
+me of my fortune; he allowed me to get into trouble; he scarcely gave
+me enough to live on. Yet all the time," her voice rose indignantly,
+"he was using my money as Wentworth Marr. What do you think of such a
+man?"
+
+Cannington's fist clenched itself, and I bit my lip to prevent an
+oath. If Monk had been there, I fear he would have had a sorry time
+between us. And Gertrude, whose affections had been cast aside by her
+tricky father, was an indignant as we were. "Then the Australian
+cousin----" I began.
+
+She cut me short. "There never was any Australian cousin, nor any
+legal change of name. You can read here what he says," and she passed
+me the letter.
+
+I read that amazing document, which revealed the depths of Walter
+Monk's heart. He did not appear to be ashamed of himself, but
+confessed that he had found the diamonds, and had lived on the sale of
+them, with a most appalling jocularity. He seemed to exult in his
+cleverness, and declared that he had done his daughter no wrong, since
+the money coming from the sale of the jewels rightfully belonged to
+him.
+
+Then came another odd trait in the man's character. He still, he said,
+had much of the fifty thousand pounds in his possession and therefore
+did not wish to keep the income left by Gabriel. "If my brother,"
+wrote Mr. Monk, "had given me the diamonds, and you the income, all
+would have been well and I should not have been forced to stoop to
+concealment which my soul abhors."
+
+"Good Lord!" muttered Cannington again, "what a man!"
+
+Therefore, as I continued to read, Mr. Monk had made a gift of deed to
+his dear daughter of the house and grounds, and also of the five
+hundred a year. He never intended to return to England, he said, as he
+had an opportunity of marrying the daughter of a wealthy Chicago
+merchant. He ended his letter--and a remarkable human document it
+was--by wishing Gertrude and myself all happiness, and bidding the
+girl remember how kindly her father had behaved in thus settling her
+for life. Finally, in a postscript, he asked his darling child to
+remember him in her prayers.
+
+This last piece of impudence was too much for both Cannington and
+myself. We burst into peals of laughter, and then felt ashamed when
+Gertrude rose suddenly and left the room. I followed hastily.
+
+"My own," I caught her as she was springing up the stairs, "forgive us
+both. We didn't mean it. But the letter----?"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know." By this time she was sobbing on my breast. "But
+oh, Cyrus, to think that I should be the daughter of such a man."
+
+"Never mind. It is said in Scripture that a woman shall leave her
+father and mother and cling to her husband. To-morrow you will be Mrs.
+Vance, and enter upon a life of unclouded happiness."
+
+"Oh, I hope so, I hope so," she murmured, "but the past has been so
+dreadful that I am afraid of the future."
+
+"You need not be," I said stoutly. "I am by your side now to defend
+you. All things connected with the Mootley murder are at an end. Miss
+Destiny is dead; your father will probably marry his Chicago heiress
+and remain for ever in the States. Striver has vanished with Lucinda,
+and neither of them will ever be heard of again. And best of all, the
+eye has been destroyed."
+
+"Best of all," whispered Gertrude, clinging to me fondly, "we are
+together, my darling, never to part."
+
+"Never! never! never!" and I kissed her once, twice and again.
+
+"I can't go back to the drawing-room," said Gertrude, "let me retire,
+and take the boy back to the inn. To-morrow, when Mabel comes down to
+be my bridesmaid, we shall see one another again."
+
+"Never to part any more!"
+
+She sped up the stairs, and I took Cannington, still almost suffocated
+with laughter, to the inn. "Did you ever read such a letter, Vance?"
+he asked me. "I am sorry I laughed, but the cheek, the damned
+coolness----"
+
+"Never mind," I said, taking his arm; "I'm glad for Gertrude's sake
+that she has got the money. We'll repair the house and live in it, and
+be happy for evermore."
+
+"I'm sure you deserve to be," said the boy thoughtfully. "Well, I can
+only say one thing, which I said when this romance of yours began."
+
+"Don't say it, confound you!"
+
+"Yes, I shall. Adventures are to the adventurous. There!"
+
+I laughed from sheer light-heartedness. I could not help it, so
+strange did it seem that my love story should end where it had begun,
+in the quotation of the saying.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Disappearing Eye, by Fergus Hume
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56841 ***