THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM

BY J. S. FLETCHER

1920

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I DEATH BRINGS OPPORTUNITY

II IN TRUST

III THE SHOP-BOY

IV THE FORTUNATE POSSESSORS

V POINT-BLANK

VI THE UNEXPECTED

VII THE SUPREME INDUCEMENT

VIII TERMS

IX UNTIL NEXT SPRING

X THE FOOT-BRIDGE

XI THE PREVALENT ATMOSPHERE

XII THE POWER OF ATTORNEY

XIII THE FIRST TRICK

XIV CARDS ON THE TABLE

XV PRATT OFFERS A HAND

XVI A HEADQUARTERS CONFERENCE

XVII ADVERTISEMENT

XVIII THE CONFIDING LANDLORD

XIX THE EYE-WITNESS

XX THE _Green Man_

XXI THE DIRECT CHARGE

XXII THE CAT'SPAW

XXIII SMOOTH FACE AND ANXIOUS BRAIN

XXIV THE BETTER HALF

XXV DRY SHERRY

XXVI THE TELEPHONE MESSAGE

XXVII RESTORED TO ENERGY

XXVIII THE WOMAN IN BLACK

THE TALLEYRAND MAXIM

CHAPTER I

DEATH BRINGS OPPORTUNITY

Linford Pratt, senior clerk to Eldrick & Pascoe, solicitors, of Barford, a young man who earnestly desired to get on in life, by hook or bycrook, with no objection whatever to crookedness, so long as it could beperformed in safety and secrecy, had once during one of his periodicalvisits to the town Reference Library, lighted on a maxim of that otherunscrupulous person, Prince Talleyrand, which had pleased him greatly. "With time and patience, " said Talleyrand, "the mulberry leaf is turnedinto satin. " This seemed to Linford Pratt one of the finest and soundestpieces of wisdom which he had ever known put into words. 

A mulberry leaf is a very insignificant thing, but a piece of satin is ahighly marketable commodity, with money in it. Henceforth, he regardedhimself as a mulberry leaf which his own wit and skill must transforminto satin: at the same time he knew that there is another thing, inaddition to time and patience, which is valuable to young men of hispeculiar qualities, a thing also much beloved by Talleyrand--opportunity. He could find the patience, and he had the time--but it would give himgreat happiness if opportunity came along to help in the work. Ineveryday language, Linford Pratt wanted a chance--he waited the arrivalof the tide in his affairs which would lead him on to fortune. 

Leave him alone--he said to himself--to be sure to take it at the flood. If Pratt had only known it, as he stood in the outer office of Eldrick &Pascoe at the end of a certain winter afternoon, opportunity was slowlyclimbing the staircase outside--not only opportunity, but temptation, both assisted by the Devil. They came at the right moment, for Pratt wasalone; the partners had gone: the other clerks had gone: the office-boyhad gone: in another minute Pratt would have gone, too: he was onlylooking round before locking up for the night. Then these thingscame--combined in the person of an old man, Antony Bartle, who openedthe door, pushed in a queer, wrinkled face, and asked in a quaveringvoice if anybody was in. 

"I'm in, Mr. Bartle, " answered Pratt, turning up a gas jet which he hadjust lowered. "Come in, sir. What can I do for you?"

Antony Bartle came in, wheezing and coughing. He was a very, very oldman, feeble and bent, with little that looked alive about him but hislight, alert eyes. Everybody knew him--he was one of the institutions ofBarford--as well known as the Town Hall or the Parish Church. For fiftyyears he had kept a second-hand bookshop in Quagg Alley, the narrowpassage-way which connected Market Street with Beck Street. It was notby any means a common or ordinary second-hand bookshop: its proprietorstyled himself an "antiquarian bookseller"; and he had a reputation intwo Continents, and dealt with millionaire buyers and virtuosos in both. 

Barford people sometimes marvelled at the news that Mr. Antony Bartlehad given two thousand guineas for a Book of Hours, and had sold aMissal for twice that amount to some American collector; and they got ahazy notion that the old man must be well-to-do--despite his snuffinessand shabbiness, and that his queer old shop, in the window of whichthere was rarely anything to be seen but a few ancient tomes, and two orthree rare engravings, contained much that he could turn at an hour'snotice into gold. All that was surmise--but Eldrick & Pascoe--which termincluded Linford Pratt--knew all about Antony Bartle, being hissolicitors: his will was safely deposited in their keeping, and Pratthad been one of the attesting witnesses. 

The old man, having slowly walked into the outer office, leaned againsta table, panting a little. Pratt hastened to open an inner door. 

"Come into Mr. Eldrick's room, Mr. Bartle, " he said. "There's a niceeasy chair there--come and sit down in it. Those stairs are a bittrying, aren't they? I often wish we were on the ground floor. "

He lighted the gas in the senior partner's room, and turning back, tookhold of the visitor's arm, and helped him to the easy chair. Then, having closed the doors, he sat down at Eldrick's desk, put his fingerstogether and waited. Pratt knew from experience that old Antony Bartlewould not have come there except on business: he knew also, having beenat Eldrick & Pascoe's for many years, that the old man would confide inhim as readily as in either of his principals. 

"There's a nasty fog coming on outside, " said Bartle, after a fit ofcoughing. "It gets on my lungs, and then it makes my heart bad. Mr. Eldrick in?"

"Gone, " replied Pratt. "All gone, Mr. Bartle--only me here. "

"You'll do, " answered the old bookseller. "You're as good as they are. "He leaned forward from the easy chair, and tapped the clerk's arm with along, claw-like finger. "I say, " he continued, with a smile that wassomething between a wink and a leer, and suggestive of a pleasedsatisfaction. "I've had a find!"

"Oh!" responded Pratt. "One of your rare books, Mr. Bartle? Gotsomething for twopence that you'll sell for ten guineas? You're one ofthe lucky ones, you know, you are!"

"Nothing of the sort!" chuckled Bartle. "And I had to pay for myknowledge, young man, before I got it--we all have. No--but I've foundsomething: not half an hour ago. Came straight here with it. Matters forlawyers, of course. "

"Yes?" said Pratt inquiringly. "And--what may it be?" He was expectingthe visitor to produce something, but the old man again leaned forward, and dug his finger once more into the clerk's sleeve. 

"I say!" he whispered. "You remember John Mallathorpe and the affairof--how long is it since?"

"Two years, " answered Pratt promptly. "Of course I do. Couldn't verywell forget it, or him. "

He let his mind go back for the moment to an affair which had providedBarford and the neighbourhood with a nine days' sensation. One wintermorning, just two years previously, Mr. John Mallathorpe, one of thebest-known manufacturers and richest men of the town, had been killed bythe falling of his own mill-chimney. The condition of the chimney hadbeen doubtful for some little time; experts had been examining it forseveral days: at the moment of the catastrophe, Mallathorpe himself, some of his principal managers, and a couple of professionalsteeple-jacks, were gathered at its base, consulting on a report. Thegreat hundred-foot structure above them had collapsed without theslightest warning: Mallathorpe, his principal manager, and his cashier, had been killed on the spot: two other bystanders had subsequently diedfrom injuries received. No such accident had occurred in Barford, nor inthe surrounding manufacturing district, for many years, and there hadbeen much interest in it, for according to the expert's conclusions thechimney was in no immediate danger. 

Other mill-owners then began to examine their chimneys, and for manyweeks Barford folk had talked of little else than the danger of livingin the shadows of these great masses of masonry. 

But there had soon been something else to talk of. It sprang out of theaccident--and it was of particular interest to persons who, like LinfordPratt, were of the legal profession. John Mallathorpe, so far as anybodyknew or could ascertain, had died intestate. No solicitor in the townhad ever made a will for him. No solicitor elsewhere had ever made awill for him. No one had ever heard that he had made a will for himself. There was no will. Drastic search of his safes, his desks, his drawersrevealed nothing--not even a memorandum. No friend of his had ever heardhim mention a will. He had always been something of a queer man. He wasa confirmed bachelor. The only relation he had in the world was hissister-in-law, the widow of his deceased younger brother, and her twochildren--a son and a daughter. And as soon as he was dead, and it wasplain that he had died intestate, they put in their claim to hisproperty. 

John Mallathorpe had left a handsome property. He had been making moneyall his life. His business was a considerable one--he employed twothousand workpeople. His average annual profit from his mills wasreckoned in thousands--four or five thousands at least. And some yearsbefore his death, he had bought one of the finest estates in theneighbourhood, Normandale Grange, a beautiful old house, set amidstcharming and romantic scenery in a valley, which, though within twelvemiles of Barford, might have been in the heart of the Highlands. Therefore, it was no small thing that Mrs. Richard Mallathorpe and hertwo children laid claim to. Up to the time of John Mallathorpe's death, they had lived in very humble fashion--lived, indeed, on an allowancefrom their well-to-do kinsman--for Richard Mallathorpe had been as muchof a waster as his brother had been of a money-getter. And there was nowithstanding their claim when it was finally decided that JohnMallathorpe had died intestate--no withstanding that, at any rate, ofthe nephew and niece. The nephew had taken all the real estate: he andhis sister had shared the personal property. And for some months theyand their mother had been safely installed at Normandale Grange, and infull possession of the dead man's wealth and business. 

All this flashed through Linford Pratt's mind in a few seconds--he knewall the story: he had often thought of the extraordinary good fortune ofthose young people. To be living on charity one week--and the next to belegal possessors of thousands a year!--oh, if only such luck would comehis way!

"Of course!" he repeated, looking thoughtfully at the old bookseller. "Not the sort of thing one does forget in a hurry, Mr. Bartle. What ofit?"

Antony Bartle leaned back in his easy chair and chuckled--something, some idea, seemed to be affording him amusement. 

"I'm eighty years old, " he remarked. "No, I'm more, to be exact. I shallbe eighty-two come February. When you've lived as long as that, youngMr. Pratt, you'll know that this life is a game of topsy-turvy--to somefolks, at any rate. Just so!"

"You didn't come here to tell me that, Mr. Bartle, " said Pratt. He wasan essentially practical young man who dined at half-past six everyevening, having lunched on no more than bread-and-cheese and a glass ofale, and he also had his evenings well mapped out. "I know that already, sir. "

"Aye, aye, but you'll know more of it later on, " replied Bartle. "Well--you know, too, no doubt, that the late John Mallathorpe was abit--only a bit--of a book-collector; collected books and pamphletsrelating to this district?"

"I've heard of it, " answered the clerk. 

"He had that collection in his private room at the mill, " continued theold bookseller, "and when the new folks took hold, I persuaded them tosell it to me. There wasn't such a lot--maybe a hundred volumesaltogether--but I wanted what there was. And as they were of no interestto them, they sold 'em. That's some months ago. I put all the books in acorner--and I never really examined them until this very afternoon. Then--by this afternoon's post--I got a letter from a Barford man who'snow out in America. He wanted to know if I could supply him with a nicecopy of Hopkinson's _History of Barford_. I knew there was one in thatMallathorpe collection, so I got it out, and examined it. And in thepocket inside, in which there's a map, I found--what d'ye think?"

"Couldn't say, " replied Pratt. He was still thinking of his dinner, andof an important engagement to follow it, and he had not the least ideathat old Antony Bartle was going to tell him anything very important. "Letters? Bank-notes? Something of that sort?"

The old bookseller leaned nearer, across the corner of the desk, untilhis queer, wrinkled face was almost close to Pratt's sharp, youthfulone. Again he lifted the claw-like finger: again he tapped the clerk'sarm. 

"I found John Mallathorpe's will!" he whispered. "His--will!"

Linford Pratt jumped out of his chair. For a second he stared inspeechless amazement at the old man; then he plunged his hands deep intohis trousers' pockets, opened his mouth, and let out a suddenexclamation. 

"No!" he said. "No! John Mallathorpe's--will? His--will!"

"Made the very day on which he died, " answered Bartle, noddingemphatically. 

"Queer, wasn't it? He might have had some--premonition, eh?"

Pratt sat down again. 

"Where is it?" he asked. 

"Here in my pocket, " replied the old bookseller, tapping his rusty coat. "Oh, it's all right, I assure you. All duly made out, signed, andwitnessed. Everything in order, I know!--because a long, a very longtime ago, I was like you, an attorney's clerk. I've drafted many a will, and witnessed many a will, in my time. I've read this, every word ofit--it's all right. Nothing can upset it. "

"Let's see it, " said Pratt, eagerly. 

"Well--I've no objection--I know you, of course, " answered Bartle, "butI'd rather show it first to Mr. Eldrick. Couldn't you telephone up tohis house and ask him to run back here?"

"Certainly, " replied Pratt. "He mayn't be there, though. But I can try. You haven't shown it to anybody else?"

"Neither shown it to anybody, nor mentioned it to a soul, " said Bartle. "I tell you it's not much more than half an hour since I found it. It'snot a long document. Do you know how it is that it's never come out?" hewent on, turning eagerly to Pratt, who had risen again. "It's easilyexplained. The will's witnessed by those two men who were killed at thesame time as John Mallathorpe! So, of course, there was nobody to saythat it was in evidence. My notion is that he and those twomen--Gaukrodger and Marshall, his manager and cashier--had signed it notlong before the accident, and that Mallathorpe had popped it into thepocket of that book before going out into the yard. Eh? But see if youcan get Mr. Eldrick down here, and we'll read it together. And Isay--this office seems uncommonly stuffy--can you open the window a bitor something?--I feel oppressed, like. "

Pratt opened a window which looked out on the street. He glanced at theold man for a moment and saw that his face, always pallid, was evenpaler than usual. 

"You've been talking too much, " he said. "Rest yourself, Mr. Bartle, while I ring up Mr. Eldrick's house. If he isn't there, I'll try hisclub--he often turns in there for an hour before going home. "

He went out by a private door to the telephone box, which stood in alobby used by various occupants of the building. And when he had rung upEldrick's private house and was waiting for the answer, he asked himselfwhat this discovery would mean to the present holders of the Mallathorpeproperty, and his curiosity--a strongly developed quality in him--becamemore and more excited. If Eldrick was not at home, if he could not getin touch with him, he would persuade old Bartle to let him see hisfind--he would cheerfully go late to his dinner if he could only get apeep at this strangely discovered document. Romance! Why, this indeedwas romance; and it might be--what else? Old Bartle had already chuckledabout topsy-turvydom: did that mean that--

The telephone bell rang: Eldrick had not yet reached his house. Prattgot on to the club: Eldrick had not been there. He rang off, and wentback to the private room. 

"Can't get hold of him, Mr. Bartle, " he began, as he closed the door. "He's not at home, and he's not at the club. I say!--you might as welllet me have a look at----"

Pratt suddenly stopped. There was a strange silence in the room: the oldman's wheezy breathing was no longer heard. And the clerk moved forwardquickly and looked round the high back of the easy chair. . . . 

He knew at once what had happened--knew that old Bartle was dead beforehe laid a finger on the wasted hand which had dropped helplessly at hisside. He had evidently died without a sound or a movement--died asquietly as he would have gone to sleep. Indeed, he looked as if he hadjust laid his old head against the padding of the chair and droppedasleep, and Pratt, who had seen death before, knew that he would neverwake again. He waited a moment, listening in the silence. Once hetouched the old man's hand; once, he bent nearer, still listening. Andthen, without hesitation, and with fingers that remained as steady as ifnothing had happened, he unbuttoned Antony Bartle's coat, and drew afolded paper from the inner pocket. 

CHAPTER II

IN TRUST

As quietly and composedly as if he were discharging the most ordinary ofhis daily duties, Pratt unfolded the document, and went close to thesolitary gas jet above Eldrick's desk. What he held in his hand was ahalf-sheet of ruled foolscap paper, closely covered with writing, whichhe at once recognized as that of the late John Mallathorpe. He wasfamiliar with that writing--he had often seen it. It was anold-fashioned writing--clear, distinct, with every letter well and fullyformed. 

"Made it himself!" muttered Pratt. "Um!--looks as if he wanted to keepthe terms secret. Well----"

He read the will through--rapidly, but with care, murmuring thephraseology half aloud. 

"This is the last will of me, John Mallathorpe, of Normandale Grange, inthe parish of Normandale, in the West Riding of the County of York. Iappoint Martin William Charlesworth, manufacturer, of Holly Lodge, Barford, and Arthur James Wyatt, chartered accountant, of 65, BeckStreet, Barford, executors and trustees of this my will. I give anddevise all my estate and effects real and personal of which I may diepossessed or entitled to unto the said Martin William Charlesworth andArthur James Wyatt upon trust for the following purposes to be carriedout by them under the following instructions, namely:--As soon after mydeath as is conveniently possible they will sell all my real estate, either by private treaty or by public auction; they shall sell all mypersonal property of any nature whatsoever; they shall sell my businessat Mallathorpe's mill in Barford as a going concern to any privatepurchaser or to any company already in existence or formed for thepurpose of acquiring it; and they shall collect all debts and moneys dueto me. And having sold and disposed of all my property, real andpersonal, and brought all the proceeds of such sales and of suchcollection of debts and moneys into one common fund they shall first payall debts owing by me and all legal duties and expenses arising out ofmy death and this disposition of my property and shall then distributemy estate as follows, namely: to each of themselves, Martin WilliamCharlesworth and Arthur James Wyatt, they shall pay the sum of fivethousand pounds; to my sister-in-law, Ann Mallathorpe, they shall paythe sum of ten thousand pounds; to my nephew, Harper John Mallathorpe, they shall pay the sum of ten thousand pounds; to my niece, NestaMallathorpe, they shall pay the sum of ten thousand pounds. And as tothe whole of the remaining residue they shall pay it in one sum to theMayor and Corporation of the borough of Barford in the County of York tobe applied by the said Mayor and Corporation at their own absolutediscretion and in any manner which seems good to them to theestablishment, furtherance and development of technical and commercialeducation in the said borough of Barford. Dated this sixteenth day ofNovember, 1906. 

 Signed by the testator in the presence of us both present at the same time who in his presence } JOHN MALLATHORPE and in the presence of each other have hereunto set our names as witnesses. 

 HENRY GAUKRODGER, 16, Florence Street, Barford, Mill Manager. 

 CHARLES WATSON MARSHALL, 56, Laburnum Terrace, Barford, Cashier. "

As the last word left his lips Pratt carefully folded up the will, slipped it into an inner pocket of his coat, and firmly buttoned thecoat across his chest. Then, without as much as a glance at the deadman, he left the room, and again visited the telephone box. He wasengaged in it for a few minutes. When he came out he heard steps comingup the staircase, and looking over the banisters he saw the seniorpartner, Eldrick, a middle-aged man. Eldrick looked up, and saw Pratt. 

"I hear you've been ringing me up at the club, Pratt, " he said. "What isit?"

Pratt waited until Eldrick had come up to the landing. Then he pointedto the door of the private room, and shook his head. 

"It's old Mr. Bartle, sir, " he whispered. "He's in your roomthere--dead!"

"Dead?" exclaimed Eldrick. "Dead!"

Pratt shook his head again. 

"He came up not so long after you'd gone, sir, " he said. "Everybody hadgone but me--I was just going. Wanted to see you about something I don'tknow what. He was very tottery when he came in--complained of the stairsand the fog. I took him into your room, to sit down in the easy chair. And--he died straight off. Just, " concluded Pratt, "just as if he wasgoing quietly to sleep!"

"You're sure he is dead?--not fainting?" asked Eldrick. 

"He's dead, sir--quite dead, " replied Pratt. "I've rung up Dr. Melrose--he'll be here in a minute or two--and the Town Hall--thepolice--as well. Will you look at him, sir?"

Eldrick silently motioned his clerk to open the door; together theywalked into the room. And Eldrick looked at his quiet figure and wanface, and knew that Pratt was right. 

"Poor old chap!" he murmured, touching one of the thin hands. "He was afine man in his time, Pratt; clever man! And he was very, very old--oneof the oldest men in Barford. Well, we must wire to his grandson, Mr. Bartle Collingwood. You'll find his address in the book. He's the onlyrelation the old fellow had. "

"Come in for everything, doesn't he, sir?" asked Pratt, as he took anaddress book from the desk, and picked up a sheaf of telegram forms. 

"Every penny!" murmured Eldrick. "Nice little fortune, too--a fine thingfor a young fellow who's just been called to the Bar. As a matter offact, he'll be fairly well independent, even if he never sees a brief inhis life. "

"He has been called, has he, sir?" asked Pratt, laying a telegram formon Eldrick's writing pad and handing him a pen. "I wasn't aware ofthat. "

"Called this term--quite recently--at Gray's Inn, " replied Eldrick, ashe sat down. "Very promising, clever young man. Look here!--we'd bettersend two wires, one to his private address, and one to his chambers. They're both in that book. It's six o'clock, isn't it?--he might be athis chambers yet, but he may have gone home. I'll write bothmessages--you put the addresses on, and get the wire off--we must havehim down here as soon as possible. "

"One address is 53x, Pump Court; the other's 96, Cloburn Square, "remarked Pratt consulting the book. "There's an express from King'sCross at 8. 15 which gets here midnight. "

"Oh, it would do if he came down first thing in the morning--leave it tohim, " said Eldrick. "I say, Pratt, do you think an inquest will benecessary?"

Pratt had not thought of that--he began to think. And while he wasthinking, the doctor whom he had summoned came in. He looked at the deadman, asked the clerk a few questions, and was apparently satisfied. "Idon't think there's any need for an inquest, " he said in reply toEldrick. "I knew the old man very well--he was much feebler than hewould admit. The exertion of coming up these stairs of yours, and thecoughing brought on by the fog outside--that was quite enough. Ofcourse, the death will have to be reported in the usual way, but I haveno hesitation in giving a certificate. You've let the Town Hall peopleknow? Well, the body had better be removed to his rooms--we must sendover and tell his housekeeper. He'd no relations in the town, had he?"

"Only one in the world that he ever mentioned--his grandson--a youngbarrister in London, " answered Eldrick. "We've just been wiring to him. Here, Pratt, you take these messages now, and get them off. Then we'llsee about making all arrangements. By-the-by, " he added, as Pratt movedtowards the door, "you don't know what--what he came to see me about?"

"Haven't the remotest idea, sir, " answered Pratt, readily and glibly. "He died--just as I've told you--before he could tell me anything. "

He went downstairs, and out into the street, and away to the GeneralPost Office, only conscious of one thing, only concerned about onething--that he was now the sole possessor of a great secret. Theopportunity which he had so often longed for had come. And as he hurriedalong through the gathering fog he repeated and repeated a fragment ofthe recent conversation between the man who was now dead, andhimself--who remained very much alive. 

"You haven't shown it to anybody else?" Pratt had asked. 

"Neither shown it to anybody, nor mentioned it to a soul, " Antony Bartlehad answered. So, in all that great town of Barford, he, Linford Pratt, he, alone out of a quarter of a million people, knew--what? Themagnitude of what he knew not only amazed but exhilarated him. Therewere such possibilities for himself in that knowledge. He wanted to bealone, to think out those possibilities; to reckon up what they came to. Of one thing he was already certain--they should be, must be, turned tohis own advantage. 

It was past eight o'clock before Pratt was able to go home to hislodgings. His landlady, meeting him in the hall, hoped that his dinnerwould not be spoiled: Pratt, who relied greatly on his dinner as his onegreat meal of the day, replied that he fervently hoped it wasn't, butthat if it was it couldn't be helped, this time. For once he wasthinking of something else than his dinner--as for his engagement forthat evening, he had already thrown it over: he wanted to give all hisenergies and thoughts and time to his secret. Nevertheless, it wascharacteristic of him that he washed, changed his clothes, ate hisdinner, and even glanced over the evening newspaper before he turned tothe real business which was already deep in his brain. But at last, whenthe maid had cleared away the dinner things, and he was alone in hissitting-room, and had lighted his pipe, and mixed himself a drop ofwhisky-and-water--the only indulgence in such things that he allowedhimself within the twenty-four hours--he drew John Mallathorpe's willfrom his pocket, and read it carefully three times. And then he began tothink, closely and steadily. 

First of all, the will was a good will. Nothing could upset it. It wasabsolutely valid. It was not couched in the terms which a solicitorwould have employed, but it clearly and plainly expressed JohnMallathorpe's intentions and meanings in respect to the disposal of hisproperty. Nothing could be clearer. The properly appointed trustees wereto realize his estate. They were to distribute it according to hisspecified instructions. It was all as plain as a pikestaff. Pratt, whowas a good lawyer, knew what the Probate Court would say to that will ifit were ever brought up before it, as he did, a quite satisfactory will. And it was validly executed. Hundreds of people, competent to do so, could swear to John Mallathorpe's signature; hundreds to Gaukrodger's;thousands to Marshall's--who as cashier was always sending his signaturebroadcast. No, there was nothing to do but to put that into the hands ofthe trustees named in it, and then. . . . 

Pratt thought next of the two trustees. They were well-known men in thetown. They were comparatively young men--about forty. They were men ofgreat energy. Their chief interests were in educational matters--that, no doubt, was why John Mallathorpe had appointed them trustees. Wyatthad been plaguing the town for two years to start commercial schools:Charlesworth was a devoted champion of technical schools. Pratt knew howthe hearts of both would leap, if he suddenly told them that enormousfunds were at their disposal for the furtherance of their schemes. Andhe also knew something else--that neither Charlesworth nor Wyatt had thefaintest, remotest notion or suspicion that John Mallathorpe had evermade such a will, or they would have moved heaven and earth, pulled downNormandale Grange and Mallathorpe's Mill, in their efforts to find it. 

But the effect--the effect of producing the will--now? Pratt, likeeverybody else, had been deeply interested in the Mallathorpe affair. There was so little doubt that John Mallathorpe had died intestate, suchabsolute certainty that his only living relations were his deceasedbrother's two children and their mother, that the necessary proceedingsfor putting Harper Mallathorpe and his sister Nesta in possession of theproperty, real and personal, had been comparatively simple and speedy. But--what was it worth? What would the two trustees have been able tohand over to the Mayor and Corporation of Barford, if the will had beenfound as soon as John Mallathorpe died? Pratt, from what he rememberedof the bulk and calculations at the time, made a rapid estimate. As nearas he could reckon, the Mayor and Corporation would have got about£300, 000. 

That, then--and this was what he wanted to get at--was what these youngpeople would lose if he produced the will. Nay!--on second thoughts, itwould be much more, very much more in some time; for the manufacturingbusiness was being carried on by them, and was apparently doing as wellas ever. It was really an enormous amount which they would lose--andthey would get--what? Ten thousand apiece and their mother a like sum. Thirty thousand pounds in all--in comparison with hundreds of thousands. But they would have no choice in the matter. Nothing could upset thatwill. 

He began to think of the three people whom the production of this willwould dispossess. He knew little of them beyond what common gossip hadrelated at the time of John Mallathorpe's sudden death. They had livedin very quiet fashion, somewhere on the outskirts of the town, untilthis change in their fortunes. Once or twice Pratt had seen Mrs. Mallathorpe in her carriage in the Barford streets--somebody had pointedher out to him, and had observed sneeringly that folk can soon adaptthemselves to circumstances, and that Mrs. Mallathorpe now gave herselfall the airs of a duchess, though she had been no more than a hospitalnurse before she married Richard Mallathorpe. And Pratt had also seenyoung Harper Mallathorpe now and then in the town--since the goodfortune arrived--and had envied him: he had also thought what a strangething it was that money went to young fellows who seemed to have noparticular endowments of brain or energy. Harper was a very ordinaryyoung man, not over intelligent in appearance, who, Pratt had heard, wasoften seen lounging about the one or two fashionable hotels of theplace. As for the daughter, Pratt did not remember having ever set eyeson her--but he had heard that up to the time of John Mallathorpe's deathshe had earned her own living as a governess, or a nurse, or somethingof that sort. 

He turned from thinking of these three people to thoughts about himself. Pratt often thought about himself, and always in one direction--thedirection of self-advancement. He was always wanting to get on. He hadnobody to help him. He had kept himself since he was seventeen. Hisfather and mother were dead; he had no brothers or sisters--the onlyrelations he had, uncles and aunts, lived--some in London, some inCanada. He was now twenty-eight, and earning four pounds a week. He hadimmense confidence in himself, but he had never seen much chance ofescaping from drudgery. He had often thought of asking Eldrick & Pascoeto give him his articles--but he had a shrewd idea that his requestwould be refused. No--it was difficult to get out of a rut. And yet--hewas a clever fellow, a good-looking fellow, a sharp, shrewd, able--andhere was a chance, such a chance as scarcely ever comes to a man. Hewould be a fool if he did not take it, and use it to his own best andlasting advantage. 

And so he locked up the will in a safe place, and went to bed, resolvedto take a bold step towards fortune on the morrow. 

CHAPTER III

THE SHOP-BOY

When Pratt arrived at Eldrick & Pascoe's office at his usual hour ofnine next morning, he found the senior partner already there. And withhim was a young man whom the clerk at once set down as Mr. BartleCollingwood, and looked at with considerable interest and curiosity. Hehad often heard of Mr. Bartle Collingwood, but had never seen him. Heknew that he was the only son of old Antony Bartle's only child--adaughter who had married a London man; he knew, too, that Collingwood'sparents were both dead, and that the old bookseller had left their soneverything he possessed--a very nice little fortune, as Eldrick hadobserved last night. And since last night he had known that Collingwoodhad just been called to the Bar, and was on the threshold of whatEldrick, who evidently knew all about it, believed to be a promisingcareer. Well, there he was in the flesh; and Pratt, who was a bornobserver of men and events, took a good look at him as he stood justwithin the private room, talking to Eldrick. 

A good-looking fellow; what most folk would call handsome; dark, clean-shaven, tall, with a certain air of reserve about his well-cutfeatures, firm lips, and steady eyes that suggested strength anddetermination. He would look very well in wig and gown, decided Pratt, viewing matters from a professional standpoint; he was just the sortthat clients would feel a natural confidence in, and that juries wouldlisten to. Another of the lucky ones, too; for Pratt knew the contentsof Antony Bartle's will, and that the young man at whom he was lookinghad succeeded to a cool five-and-twenty thousand pounds, at least, through his grandfather's death. 

"Here is Pratt, " said Eldrick, glancing into the outer office as theclerk entered it. "Pratt, come in here--here is Mr. Bartle Collingwood, He would like you to tell him the facts about Mr. Bartle's death. "

Pratt walked in--armed and prepared. He was a clever hand at foreseeingthings, and he had known all along that he would have to answerquestions about the event of the previous night. 

"There's very little to tell, sir, " he said, with a politeacknowledgment of Collingwood's greeting. "Mr. Bartle came up here justas I was leaving--everybody else had left. He wanted to see Mr. Eldrick. Why, he didn't say. He was coughing a good deal when he came in, and hecomplained of the fog outside, and of the stairs. He saidsomething--just a mere mention--about his heart being bad. I lighted thegas in here, and helped him into the chair. He just sat down, laid hishead back, and died. "

"Without saying anything further?" asked Collingwood. 

"Not a word more, Mr. Collingwood, " answered Pratt. "He--well, it wasjust as if he had dropped off to sleep. Of course, at first I thoughthe'd fainted, but I soon saw what it was--it so happens that I've seen adeath just as sudden as that, once before--my landlady's husband died ina very similar fashion, in my presence. There was nothing I could do, Mr. Collingwood--except ring up Mr. Eldrick, and the doctor, and thepolice. "

"Mr. Pratt made himself very useful last night in making arrangements, "remarked Eldrick, looking at Collingwood. "As it is, there is verylittle to do. There will be no need for any inquest; Melrose has givenhis certificate. So--there are only the funeral arrangements. We canhelp you with that matter, of course. But first you'd no doubt like togo to your grandfather's place and look through his papers? We have hiswill here, you know--and I've already told you its effect. "

"I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Pratt, " said Collingwood, turning to theclerk. He turned again to Eldrick. "All right, " he went on. "I'll goover to Quagg Alley. Bye-the-bye, Mr. Pratt--my grandfather didn't tellyou anything of the reason of his call here?"

"Not a word, sir, " replied Pratt. "Merely said he wanted Mr. Eldrick. "

"Had he any legal business in process?" asked Collingwood. 

Eldrick and his clerk both shook their heads. No, Mr. Bartle had nobusiness of that sort that they knew of. Nothing--but there again Prattwas prepared. 

"It might have been about the lease of that property in HorsebridgeLand, sir, " he said, glancing at his principal. "He did mention that, you know, when he was in here a few weeks ago. "

"Just so, " agreed Eldrick. "Well, you'll let me know if we can be ofuse, " he went on, as Collingwood turned away. "Pratt can be at yourdisposal, any time. "

Collingwood thanked him and went off. He had travelled down from Londonby the earliest morning train, and leaving his portmanteau at the hotelof the Barford terminus, had gone straight to Eldrick & Pascoe's office;accordingly this was his first visit to the shop in Quagg Alley. But heknew the shop and its surroundings well enough, though he had not beenin Barford for some time; he also knew Antony Bartle's old housekeeper, Mrs. Clough, a rough and ready Yorkshirewoman, who had looked after theold man as long as he, Collingwood, could remember. She received him ascalmly as if he had merely stepped across the street to inquire afterhis grandfather's health. 

"I thowt ye'd be down here first thing, Mestur Collingwood, " she said, as he walked into the parlor at the back of the shop. "Of course, there's naught to be done except to see after yer grandfather's burying. I don't know if ye were surprised or no when t' lawyers tellygraphed toyer last night? I weren't surprised to hear what had happened. I'd beenexpecting summat o' that sort this last month or two. "

"You mean--he was failing?" asked Collingwood. 

"He were gettin' feebler and feebler every day, " said the housekeeper. "But nobody dare say so to him, and he wouldn't admit it his-self. Hewere that theer high-spirited 'at he did things same as if he were ayoung man. But I knew how it 'ud be in the end--and so it has been--Iknew he'd go off all of a sudden. And of course I had all inreadiness--when they brought him back last night there was naught to dobut lay him out. Me and Mrs. Thompson next door, did it, i' no time. Wheer will you be for buryin' him, Mestur Collingwood?"

"We must think that over, " answered Collingwood. 

"Well, an' theer's all ready for that, too, " responded Mrs. Clough. "He's had his grave all ready i' the cemetery this three year--Iremember when he bowt it--it's under a yew-tree, and he told me 'at he'dordered his monnyment an' all. So yer an' t' lawyers'll have no greattrouble about them matters. Mestur Eldrick, he gev' orders for t' coffinlast night. "

Collingwood left these gruesome details--highly pleasing to theirnarrator--and went up to look at his dead grandfather. He had never seenmuch of him, but they had kept up a regular correspondence, and alwaysbeen on terms of affection, and he was sorry that he had not been withthe old man at the last. He remained looking at the queer, quiet, oldface for a while; when he went down again, Mrs. Clough was talking to asharp-looking lad, of apparently sixteen or seventeen years, who stoodat the door leading into the shop, and who glanced at Collingwood withkeen interest and speculation. 

"Here's Jabey Naylor wants to know if he's to do aught, Mestur, " saidthe housekeeper. "Of course, I've telled him 'at we can't have the shopopen till the burying's over--so I don't know what theer is that he cando. "

"Oh, well, let him come into the shop with me, " answered Collingwood. Hemotioned the lad to follow him out of the parlour. "So you were Mr. Bartle's assistant, eh?" he asked. "Had he anybody else?"

"Nobody but me, sir, " replied the lad. "I've been with him a year. "

"And your name's what?" inquired Collingwood. 

"Jabez Naylor, sir, but everybody call me Jabey. "

"I see--Jabey for short, eh?" said Collingwood good-humouredly. Hewalked into the shop, followed by the boy, and closed the door. Theouter door into Quagg Alley was locked: a light blind was drawn over theone window; the books and engravings on the shelves and in the presseswere veiled in a half-gloom. "Well, as Mrs. Clough says, we can't do anybusiness for a few days, Jabey--after that we must see what can be done. You shall have your wages just the same, of course, and you may look inevery day to see if there's anything you can do. You were hereyesterday, of course? Were you in the shop when Mr. Bartle went out?"

"Yes, sir, " replied the lad. "I'd been in with him all the afternoon. Iwas here when he went out--and here when they came to say he'd died atMr. Eldrick's. "

Collingwood sat down in his grandfather's chair, at a big table, piledhigh with books and papers, which stood in the middle of the floor. 

"Did my grandfather seem at all unwell when he went out?" he asked. 

"No, sir. He had been coughing a bit more than usual--that was all. There was a fog came on about five o'clock, and he said it botheredhim. "

"What had he been doing during the afternoon? Anything particular?"

"Nothing at all particular before half-past four or so, sir. "

Collingwood took a closer look at Jabez Naylor. He saw that he was anobservant lad, evidently of superior intelligence--a good specimen ofthe sharp town lad, well trained in a modern elementary school. 

"Oh?" he said. "Nothing particular before half-past four, eh? Did he dosomething particular after half-past four?"

"There was a post came in just about then, sir, " answered Jabey. "Therewas an American letter--that's it, sir--just in front of you. Mr. Bartleread it, and asked me if we'd got a good clear copy of Hopkinson's_History of Barford_. I reminded him that there was a copy amongst thebooks that had been bought from Mallathorpe's Mill some time ago. "

"Books that had belonged to Mr. John Mallathorpe, who was killed?" askedCollingwood, who was fully acquainted with the chimney accident. 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bartle bought a lot of books that Mr. Mallathorpe had atthe Mill--local books. They're there in that corner: they were put therewhen I fetched them, and he'd never looked over them since, particularly. "

"Well--and this _History of Barford_? You reminded him of it?"

"I got it out for him, sir. He sat down--where you're sitting--and beganto examine it. He said something about it being a nice copy, and he'dget it off that night--that's it, sir: I didn't read it, of course. Andthen he took some papers out of a pocket that's inside it, and I heardhim say 'Bless my soul--who'd have thought it!'"

Collingwood picked up the book which the boy indicated--a thick, substantially bound volume, inside one cover of which was a linenpocket, wherein were some loose maps and plans of Barford. 

"These what he took out?" he asked, holding them up. 

"Yes, sir, but there was another paper, with writing on it--a biggishsheet of paper--written all over. "

"Did you see what the writing was? Did you see any of it?"

"No, sir--only that it was writing, I was dusting those shelves out, over there; when I heard Mr. Bartle say what he did. I just lookedround, over my shoulder--that was all. "

"Was he reading this paper that you speak of?"

"Yes, sir--he was holding it up to the gas, reading it. "

"Do you know what he did with it?"

"Yes, sir--he folded it up and put it in his pocket. "

"Did he say any more--make any remark?"

"No, sir. He wrote a letter then. "

"At once?"

"Yes, sir--straight off. But he wasn't more than a minute writing it. Then he sent me to post it at the pillar-box, at the end of the Alley. "

"Did you read the address?"

The lad turned to a book which stood with others in a rack over thechimney-piece, and tapped it with his finger. 

"Yes, sir--because Mr. Bartle gave orders when I first came here that aregister of every letter sent out was to be kept--I've always enteredthem in this book. "

"And this letter you're talking about--to whom was it addressed?"

"Miss Mallathorpe, Normandale Grange, sir. "

"You went and posted it at once?"

"That very minute, sir. "

"Was it soon afterwards that Mr. Bartle went out?"

"He went out as soon as I came back, sir. "

"And you never saw him again?"

Jabey shook his head. 

"Not alive, sir, " he answered. "I saw him when they brought him back. "

"How long had he been out when you heard he was dead?"

"About an hour, sir--just after six it was when they told Mrs. Cloughand me. He went out at ten minutes past five. "

Collingwood got up. He gave the lad's shoulder a friendly squeeze. 

"All right!" he said. "Now you seem a smart, intelligent lad--don'tmention a word to any one of what we've been talking about. You have notmentioned it before, I suppose? Not a word? That's right--don't. Come inagain tomorrow morning to see if I want you to be here as usual. I'mgoing to put a manager into this shop. "

When the boy had gone Collingwood locked up the shop from the houseside, put the key in his pocket, and went into the kitchen. 

"Mrs. Clough, " he said. "I want to see the clothes which my grandfatherwas wearing when he was brought home last night. Where are they?"

"They're in that little room aside of his bed-chamber, MesturCollingwood, " replied the housekeeper. "I laid 'em all there, on theclothes-press, just as they were taken off of him, by Lawyer Eldrick'sorders--he said they hadn't been examined, and wasn't to be, till youcame. Nobody whatever's touched 'em since. "

Collingwood went upstairs and into the little room--a sort of box-roomopening out of that in which the old man lay. There were the clothes; hewent through the pockets of every garment. He found such things as keys, a purse, loose money, a memorandum book, a bookseller's catalogue ortwo, two or three letters of a business sort--but there was no bigfolded paper, covered with writing, such as Jabey Naylor had described. 

The mention of that paper had excited Collingwood's curiosity. Herapidly summed up what he had learned. His grandfather had found apaper, closely written upon, in a book which had been the property ofJohn Mallathorpe, deceased. The discovery had surprised him, for he hadgiven voice to an exclamation of what was evidently astonishment. He hadput the paper in his pocket. Then he had written a letter--to Mrs. Mallathorpe of Normandale Grange. When his shop-boy had posted thatletter, he himself had gone out--to his solicitor. What, askedCollingwood, was the reasonable presumption? The old man had gone toEldrick to show him the paper which he had found. 

He lingered in the little room for a few minutes, thinking. No one butPratt had been with Antony Bartle at the time of his seizure and suddendeath. What sort of a fellow was Pratt? Was he honest? Was his word tobe trusted? Had he told the precise truth about the old man's death? Hewas evidently a suave, polite, obliging sort of fellow, this clerk, butit was a curious thing that if Antony Bartle had that paper, whatever itwas--in his pocket when he went to Eldrick's office it should not be inhis pocket still--if his clothing had really remained untouched. Alreadysuspicion was in Collingwood's mind--vague and indefinable, but there. 

He was half inclined to go straight back to Eldrick & Pascoe's and tellEldrick what Jabey Naylor had just told him. But he reflected that whileNaylor went out to post the letter, the old bookseller might have putthe paper elsewhere; locked it up in his safe, perhaps. One thing, however, he, Collingwood, could do at once--he could ask Mrs. Mallathorpe if the letter referred to the paper. He was fully acquaintedwith all the facts of the Mallathorpe history; old Bartle, knowing theywould interest his grandson, had sent him the local newspaper accountsof its various episodes. It was only twelve miles to NormandaleGrange--a motor-car would carry him there within the hour. He glanced athis watch--just ten o 'clock. 

An hour later, Collingwood found himself standing in a fine oak-panelledroom, the windows of which looked out on a romantic valley whose thicklywooded sides were still bright with the red and yellow tints of autumn. A door opened--he turned, expecting to see Mrs. Mallathorpe. Instead, hefound himself looking at a girl, who glanced inquiringly at him, andfrom him to the card which he had sent in on his arrival. 

CHAPTER IV

THE FORTUNATE POSSESSORS

Collingwood at once realized that he was in the presence of one of thetwo fortunate young people who had succeeded so suddenly--and, accordingto popular opinion, so unexpectedly--to John Mallathorpe's wealth. Thiswas evidently Miss Nesta Mallathorpe, of whom he had heard, but whom hehad never seen. She, however, was looking at him as if she knew him, andshe smiled a little as she acknowledged his bow. 

"My mother is out in the grounds, with my brother, " she said, motioningCollingwood towards a chair. "Won't you sit down, please?--I've sent forher; she will be here in a few minutes. "

Collingwood sat down; Nesta Mallathorpe sat down, too, and as theylooked at each other she smiled again. 

"I have seen you before, Mr. Collingwood, " she said. "I knew it must beyou when they brought up your card. "

Collingwood used his glance of polite inquiry to make a closerinspection of his hostess. He decided that Nesta Mallathorpe was not somuch pretty as eminently attractive--a tall, well-developed, warm-coloured young woman, whose clear grey eyes and red lips andgeneral bearing indicated the possession of good health and spirits. Andhe was quite certain that if he had ever seen her before he would nothave forgotten it. 

"Where have you seen me?" he asked, smiling back at her. 

"Have you forgotten the mock-trial--year before last?" she asked. 

Collingwood remembered what she was alluding to. He had taken part, incompany with various other law students, in a mock-trial, a breach ofpromise case, for the benefit of a certain London hospital, to him hadfallen one of the principal parts, that of counsel for the plaintiff. "When I saw your name, I remembered it at once, " she went on. "I wasthere--I was a probationer at St. Chad's Hospital at that time. "

"Dear me!" said Collingwood, "I should have thought our histrionicefforts would have been forgotten. I'm afraid I don't remember muchabout them, except that we had a lot of fun out of the affair. So youwere at St. Chad's?" he continued, with a reminiscence of thesurroundings of the institution they were talking of. "Very different toNormandale!"

"Yes, " she replied. "Very--very different to Normandale. But when I wasat St. Chad's, I didn't know that I--that we should ever come toNormandale. "

"And now that you are here?" he asked. 

The girl looked out through the big window on the valley which lay infront of the old house, and she shook her head a little. 

"It's very beautiful, " she answered, "but I sometimes wish I was back atSt. Chad's--with something to do. Here--there's nothing to do but to donothing. " Collingwood realized that this was not the complaint of thewell-to-do young woman who finds time hang heavy--it was ratherindicative of a desire for action. 

"I understand!" he said. "I think I should feel like that. One wants--Isuppose--is it action, movement, what is it?"

"Better call it occupation--that's a plain term, " she answered. "We'reboth suffering from lack of occupation here, my brother and I. And it'sbad for us--especially for him. "

Before Collingwood could think of any suitable reply to this remarkablyfresh and candid statement, the door opened, and Mrs. Mallathorpe camein, followed by her son. And the visitor suddenly and immediatelynoticed the force and meaning of Nesta Mallathorpe's last remark. HarperMallathorpe, a good-looking, but not remarkably intelligent appearingyoung man, of about Collingwood's own age, gave him the instantimpression of being bored to death; the lack-lustre eye, the aimlesslounge, the hands thrust into the pockets of his Norfolk jacket as ifthey took refuge there from sheer idleness--all these things told theirtale. Here, thought Collingwood, was a fine example of how riches can bea curse--relieved of the necessity of having to earn his daily bread bylabour, Harper Mallathorpe was finding life itself laborious. 

But there was nothing of aimlessness, idleness, or lack of vigour inMrs. Mallathorpe. She was a woman of character, energy, ofbrains--Collingwood saw all that at one glance. A little, neat-figured, compact sort of woman, still very good-looking, still on the right sideof fifty, with quick movements and sharp glances out of a pair of shrewdeyes: this, he thought, was one of those women who will readilyundertake the control and management of big affairs. He felt, as Mrs. Mallathorpe turned inquiring looks on him, that as long as she was incharge of them the Mallathorpe family fortunes would be safe. 

"Mother, " said Nesta, handing Collingwood's card to Mrs. Mallathorpe, "this gentleman is Mr. Bartle Collingwood. He's--aren't you?--yes, abarrister. He wants to see you. Why, I don't know. I have seen Mr. Collingwood before--but he didn't remember me. Now he'll tell you whathe wants to see you about. "

"If you'll allow me to explain why I called on you, Mrs. Mallathorpe, "said Collingwood, "I don't suppose you ever heard of me--but you know, at any rate, the name of my grandfather, Mr. Antony Bartle, thebookseller, of Barford? My grandfather is dead--he died very suddenlylast night. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe and Nesta murmured words of polite sympathy. Harpersuddenly spoke--as if mere words were some relief to his obviousboredom. 

"I heard that, this morning, " he said, turning to his mother. "Hopkinstold me--he was in town last night. I meant to tell you. "

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Mallathorpe, glancing at some letters whichstood on a rack above the mantelpiece. "Why--I had a letter from Mr. Bartle this very morning!"

"It is that letter that I have come to see you about, " said Collingwood. "I only got down here from London at half-past eight this morning, andof course, I have made some inquiries about the circumstances of mygrandfather's sudden death. He died very suddenly indeed at Mr. Eldrick's office. He had gone there on some business about which nobodyknows nothing--he died before he could mention it. And according to hisshop-boy, Jabey Naylor, the last thing he did was to write a letter toyou. Now--I have reason for asking--would you mind telling me, Mrs. Mallathorpe, what that letter was about?" Mrs. Mallathorpe moved over tothe hearth, and took an envelope from the rack. She handed it toCollingwood, indicating that he could open it. And Collingwood drew outone of old Bartle's memorandum forms, and saw a couple of lines in thefamiliar crabbed handwriting:

 "MRS. MALLATHORPE, Normandale Grange. 

 "Madam, --If you should drive into town tomorrow, will you kindly give me a call? I want to see you particularly. 

 "Respectfully, A. BARTLE. "

Collingwood handed back the letter. 

"Have you any idea to what that refers?" he asked. 

"Well, I think I have--perhaps, " answered Mrs. Mallathorpe. "Mr. Bartlepersuaded us to sell him some books--local books--which my latebrother-in-law had at his office in the mill. And since then he has beenvery anxious to buy more local books and pamphlets about thisneighbourhood, and he had some which Mr. Bartle was very anxious indeedto get hold of. I suppose he wanted to see me about that. " Collingwoodmade no remarks for the moment. He was wondering whether or not to tellwhat Jabey Naylor had told him about this paper taken from the linenpocket inside the _History of Barford_. But Mrs. Mallathorpe's readyexplanation had given him a new idea, and he rose from his chair. 

"Thank you, " he said. "I suppose that's it. You may think it odd that Iwanted to know what he'd written about, but as it was certainly the lastletter he wrote----"

"Oh, I'm quite sure it must have been that!" exclaimed Mrs. Mallathorpe. "And as I am going into Barford this afternoon, in any case, I meant tocall at Mr. Bartle's. I'm sorry to hear of his death, poor oldgentleman! But he was very old indeed, wasn't he?"

"He was well over eighty, " replied Collingwood. "Well, thank youagain--and good-bye--I have a motorcar waiting outside there, and I havemuch to do in Barford when I get back. "

The two young people accompanied Collingwood into the hall. And Harpersuddenly brightened. 

"I say!" he said. "Have a drink before you go. It's a long way in andout. Come into the dining-room. "

But Collingwood caught Nesta's eye, and he was quick to read a signal init. 

"No, thanks awfully!" he answered. "I won't really--I must getback--I've such a lot of things to attend to. This is a very beautifulplace of yours, " he went on, as Harper, whose face had fallen at thevisitor's refusal, followed with his sister to where the motor-carwaited. "It might be a hundred miles from anywhere. "

"It's a thousand miles from anywhere!" muttered Harper. "Nothing to dohere!"

"No hunting, shooting, fishing?" asked Collingwood. "Get tired of 'em?Well, why not make a private golf-links in your park? You'd get a finesporting course round there. "

"That's a good notion, Harper, " observed Nesta, with some eagerness. "You could have it laid out this winter. "

Harper suddenly looked at Collingwood. 

"Going to stop in Barford?" he asked. 

"Till I settle my grandfather's affairs--yes, " answered Collingwood. 

"Come and see us again, " said Harper. "Come for the night--we've got ajolly good billiard table. "

"Do!" added Nesta heartily. 

"Since you're so kind, I will, then, " replied Collingwood. "But not fora few days. "

He drove off--to wonder why he had visited Normandale Grange at all. ForMrs. Mallathorpe's explanation of the letter was doubtless the rightone: Collingwood, little as he had seen of Antony Bartle, knew what averitable sleuth-hound the old man was where rare books or engravingswere concerned. Yet--why the sudden exclamation on finding that paper?Why the immediate writing of the letter to Mrs. Mallathorpe? Why thesetting off to Eldrick & Pascoe's office as soon as the letter waswritten? It all looked as if the old man had found some document, thecontents of which related to the Mallathorpe family, and was anxious tocommunicate its nature to Mrs. Mallathorpe, and to his own solicitor, assoon as possible. 

"But that's probably only my fancy, " he mused, as he sped back toBarford; "the real explanation is doubtless that suggested by Mrs. Mallathorpe. Something made the old man think of the collection of localbooks at Normandale Grange--and he immediately wrote off to ask her tosee him, with the idea of persuading her to let him have them. That'sall there is in it--what a suspicious sort of party I must be getting!And suspicious of whom--and of what? Anyhow, I'm glad I went outthere--and I'll certainly go again. "

On his way back to Barford he thought a good deal of the two youngpeople he had just left. There was something of the irony of fate abouttheir situation. There they were, in possession of money and luxury andyouth--and already bored because they had nothing to do. He felt whatclosely approached a contemptuous pity for Harper--why didn't he turn tosome occupation? There was their own business--why didn't he put in somany hours a day there, instead of leaving it to managers? Why didn't heinterest himself in local affairs?--work at something? Already he hadall the appearance of a man who is inclined to slackness--and in thatcase, mused Collingwood, his money would do him positive harm. But hehad no thoughts of that sort about Nesta Mallathorpe: he had seen thatshe was of a different temperament. 

"She'll not stick there--idling, " he said. "She'll break out and dosomething or other. What did she say? 'Suffering from lack ofoccupation'? A bad thing to suffer from, too--glad I'm not similarlyafflicted!"

There was immediate occupation for Collingwood himself when he reachedthe town. He had already made up his mind as to his future plans. Hewould sell his grandfather's business as soon as he could find abuyer--the old man had left a provision in his will, the gist of whichEldrick had already communicated to Collingwood, to the effect that hisgrandson could either carry on the business with the help of a competentmanager until the stock was sold out, or could dispose of it as a goingconcern--Collingwood decided to sell it outright, and at once. But firstit was necessary for him to look round the collection of valuable booksand prints, and get an idea of what it was that he was about to sell. And when he had reached Barford again, and had lunched at his hotel, hewent to Quagg Alley, and shut himself in the shop, and made a carefulinspection of the treasures which old Bartle had raked up from manyquarters. 

Within ten minutes of beginning his task Collingwood knew that he hadgone out to Normandale Grange about a mere nothing. Picking up the_History of Barford_ which Jabey Naylor had spoken of, and turning overits leaves, two papers dropped out; one a half sheet of foolscap, folded; the other, a letter from some correspondent in the UnitedStates. Collingwood read the letter first--it was evidently that whichNaylor had referred to as having been delivered the previous afternoon. It asked for a good, clear copy of Hopkinson's _History of Barford_--andthen it went on, "If you should come across a copy of what is, Ibelieve, a very rare tract or pamphlet, _Customs of the Court Leet ofthe Manor of Barford_, published, I think, about 1720, I should be gladto pay you any price you like to ask for it--in reason. " So much for theletter--Collingwood turned from it to the folded paper. It was headed"List of Barford Tracts and Pamphlets in my box marked B. P. In thelibrary at N Grange, " and it was initialled at the foot J. M. Thenfollowed the titles of some twenty-five or thirty works--amongst themwas the very tract for which the American correspondent had inquired. And now Collingwood had what he believed to be a clear vision of whathad puzzled him--his grandfather having just read the American buyer'srequest had found the list of these pamphlets inside the _History ofBarford_, and in it the entry of the particular one he wanted, and atonce he had written to Mrs. Mallathorpe in the hope of persuading her tosell what his American correspondent desired to buy. It was all quiteplain--and the old man's visit to Eldrick & Pascoe's had nothing to dowith the letter to Mrs. Mallathorpe. Nor had he carried the folded paperin his pocket to Eldrick's--when Jabey Naylor went out to post theletter, Antony had placed the folded paper and the American lettertogether in the book and left them there. Quite, quite simple!--he hadhad his run to Normandale Grange and back all about nothing, and fornothing--except that he had met Nesta Mallathorpe, whom he was alreadysufficiently interested in to desire to see again. But having arrived atan explanation of what had puzzled him and made him suspicious, hedismissed that matter from his mind and thought no more of it. 

But across the street, all unknown to Collingwood, Linford Pratt wasthinking a good deal. Collingwood had taken his car from a rankimmediately opposite Eldrick & Pascoe's windows; Pratt, whose desklooked on to the street, had seen him drive away soon after ten o'clockand return about half-past twelve. Pratt, who knew everybody in thebusiness centre of the town, knew the man who had driven Collingwood, and when he went out to his lunch he asked him where he had been thatmorning. The man, who knew no reason for secrecy, told him--and Prattwent off to eat his bread and cheese and drink his one glass of ale andto wonder why young Collingwood had been to Normandale Grange. He becameslightly anxious and uneasy. He knew that Collingwood must have madesome slight examination of old Bartle's papers. Was it--could it bepossible that the old man, before going to Eldrick's, had left somememorandum of his discovery in his desk--or in a diary? He had said thathe had not shown the will, nor mentioned the will, to a soul--but hemight;--old men were so fussy about things--he might have set down inhis diary that he had found it on such a day, and under such-and-suchcircumstances. 

However, there was one person who could definitely inform him of thereason of Collingwood's visit to Normandale Grange--Mrs. Mallathorpe. Hewould see her at once, and learn if he had any grounds for fear. And soit came about that at nine o'clock that evening, Mrs. Mallathorpe, forthe second time that day, found herself asked to see a limb of the law. 

CHAPTER V

POINT-BLANK

Mrs. Mallathorpe was alone when Pratt's card was taken to her. Harperand Nesta were playing billiards in a distant part of the big house. Dinner had been over for an hour; Mrs. Mallathorpe, who had known whathard work and plenty of it was, in her time, was trifling over thenewspapers--rest, comfort, and luxury were by no means boring to her. She looked at the card doubtfully--Pratt had pencilled a word or two onit: "Private and important business. " Then she glanced at the butler--anelderly man who had been with John Mallathorpe many years before thecatastrophe occurred. 

"Who is he, Dickenson?" she asked. "Do you know him?"

"Clerk at Eldrick & Pascoe's, in the town, ma'am, " replied the butler. "I know the young man by sight. "

"Where is he?" inquired Mrs. Mallathorpe. 

"In the little morning room, at present, ma'am, " said Dickenson. 

"Take him into the study, " commanded Mrs. Mallathorpe. "I'll come to himpresently. " She was utterly at a loss to understand Pratt's presencethere. Eldrick & Pascoe were not her solicitors, and she had no businessof a legal nature in which they could be in any way concerned. But itsuddenly struck her that that was the second time she had heardEldrick's name mentioned that day--young Mr. Collingwood had said thathis grandfather's death had taken place at Eldrick & Pascoe's office. Had this clerk come to see her about that?--and if so, what had she todo with it? Before she reached the room in which Pratt was waiting forher, Mrs. Mallathorpe was filled with curiosity. But in that curiositythere was not a trace of apprehension; nothing suggested to her that hervisitor had called on any matter actually relating to herself or herfamily. 

The room into which Pratt had been taken was a small apartment openingout of the library--John Mallathorpe, when he bought Normandale Grange, had it altered and fitted to suit his own tastes, and Pratt, as soon ashe entered it, saw that it was a place in which privacy and silencecould be ensured. He noticed that it had double doors, and that therewere heavy curtains before the window. And during the few minutes whichelapsed between his entrance and Mrs. Mallathorpe's, he took theprecaution to look behind those curtains, and to survey hissurroundings--what he had to say was not to be overheard, if he couldhelp it. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe looked her curiosity as soon as she came in. She didnot remember that she had ever seen this young man before, but sherecognized at once that he was a shrewd and sharp person, and she knewfrom his manner that he had news of importance to give her. She quietlyacknowledged Pratt's somewhat elaborate bow, and motioned him to take achair at the side of the big desk which stood before the fireplace--sheherself sat down at the desk itself, in John Mallathorpe's oldelbow-chair. And Pratt thought to himself that however much young HarperJohn Mallathorpe might be nominal master of Normandale Grange, the realmaster was there, in the self-evident, quiet-looking woman who turned tohim in business-like fashion. 

"You want to see me?" said Mrs. Mallathorpe. "What is it?"

"Business, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " replied Pratt. "As I said on my card--of aprivate and important sort. "

"To do with me?" she asked. 

"With you--and with your family, " said Pratt. "And before we go anyfurther, not a soul knows of it but--me. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe took another searching look at her visitor. Pratt wasleaning over the corner of the desk, towards her; already he had loweredhis tones to the mysterious and confidential note. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, " she said. "Go on. "

Pratt bent a little nearer. 

"A question or two first, if you please, Mrs. Mallathorpe. And--answerthem! They're for your own good. Young Mr. Collingwood called on youtoday. "

"Well--and what of it?"

"What did he want?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe hesitated and frowned a little. And Pratt hastened toreassure her. "I'm using no idle words, Mrs. Mallathorpe, when I sayit's for your own good. It is! What did he come for?"

"He came to ask what there was in a letter which his grandfather wroteto me yesterday afternoon. "

"Antony Bartle had written to you, had he? And what did he say, Mrs. Mallathorpe? For that is important!"

"No more than that he wanted me to call on him today, if I happened tobe in Barford. "

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more--not a word. "

"Nothing as to--why he wanted to see you?"

"No! I thought that he probably wanted to see me about buying some booksof the late Mr. Mallathorpe's. "

"Did you tell Collingwood that?" asked Pratt, eagerly. 

"Yes--of course. "

"Did it satisfy him?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe frowned again. 

"Why shouldn't I?" she demanded. "It was the only explanation I couldpossibly give him. How do I know what the old man really wanted?"

Pratt drew his chair still nearer to the desk. His voice dropped to awhisper and his eyes were full of meaning. 

"I'll tell you what he wanted!" he said speaking very slowly. "It's whatI've come for. Listen! Antony Bartle came to our office soon after fiveyesterday afternoon. I was alone--everybody else had gone. I took himinto Eldrick's room. He told me that in turning over one of the bookswhich he had bought from Mallathorpe Mill, some short time ago, he hadfound--what do you think?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe's cheek had flushed at the mention of the books fromthe Mill. Now, at Pratt's question, and under his searching eye, sheturned very pale, and the clerk saw her fingers tighten on the arms ofher chair. 

"What?" she asked. "What?"

"John Mallathorpe's will!" he answered. "Do you understand? His--will!"

The woman glanced quickly about her--at the doors, the uncurtainedwindow. 

"Safe enough here, " whispered Pratt. "I made sure of that. Don't beafraid--no one knows--but me. "

But Mrs. Mallathorpe seemed to find some difficulty in speaking, andwhen she at last got out a word her voice sounded hoarse. 

"Impossible!"

"It's a fact!" said Pratt. "Nothing was ever more a fact as you'll see. But let me finish my story. The old man told me how he'd found thewill--only half an hour before--and he asked me to ring up Eldrick, sothat we might all read it together. I went to the telephone--when I cameback, Bartle was dead--just dead. And--I took the will out of hispocket. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe made an involuntary gesture with her right hand. AndPratt smiled, craftily, and shook his head. 

"Much too valuable to carry about, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " he said. "I've gotit--all safe--under lock and key. But as I've said--nobody knows of itbut myself. Not a living soul. No one has any idea! No one can have anyidea. I was a bit alarmed when I heard that young Collingwood had beento you, for I thought that the old man, though he didn't tell me of anysuch thing, might have dropped you a line saying what he'd found. But ashe didn't--well, not one living soul knows that the will's inexistence, except me--and you!"

Mrs. Mallathorpe was regaining her self-possession. She had had a greatshock, but the worst of it was over. Already she knew, from Pratt'smanner, insidious and suggesting, that the will was of a nature thatwould dispossess her and hers of this recently acquired wealth--theclerk had made that evident by look and tone. So--there was nothing butto face things. 

"What--what does it--say?" she asked, with an effort. 

Pratt unbuttoned his overcoat, plunged a hand into the inner pocket, drew out a sheet of paper, unfolded it and laid it on the desk. 

"An exact copy, " he said tersely. "Read it for yourself. "

In spite of the determined effort which she made to be calm, Mrs. Mallathorpe's fingers still trembled as she took up the sheet on whichPratt had made a fair copy of the will. The clerk watched her narrowlyas she read. He knew that presently there would be a tussle betweenthem: he knew, too, that she was a woman who would fight hard in defenceof her own interest, and for the interests of her children. 

Always keeping his ears open to local gossip, especially where money wasconcerned, Pratt had long since heard that Mrs. Mallathorpe was a keenand sharp business woman. And now he was not surprised when, havingslowly and carefully read the copy of the will from beginning to end, she laid it down, and turned to him with a business-like question. 

"The effect of that?" she asked. "What would it be--curtly?"

"Precisely what it says, " answered Pratt. "Couldn't be clearer!"

"We--should lose all?" she demanded, almost angrily. "All?"

"All--except what he says--there, " agreed Pratt. 

"And that, " she went on, drumming her fingers on the paper, "that--wouldstand?"

"What it's a copy of would stand, " said Pratt. "Oh, yes, don't you makeany mistake about it, Mrs. Mallathorpe! Nothing can upset that will. Itis plain as a pikestaff how it came to be made. Your late brother-in-lawevidently wrote his will out--it's all in his own handwriting--and tookit down to the Mill with him the very day of the chimney accident. Justas evidently he signed it in the presence of his manager, Gaukrodger, and his cashier, Marshall--they signed at the same time, as it says, there. Now I take it that very soon after that, Mr. Mallathorpe went outinto his mill yard to have a look at the chimney--Gaukrodger andMarshall went with him. Before he went, he popped the will into thebook, where old Bartle found it yesterday--such things are easily done. Perhaps he was reading the book--perhaps it lay handy--he slipped thewill inside, anyway. And then--he was killed--and, what's more the twowitnesses were killed with him. So there wasn't a man left who couldtell of that will! But--there's half Barford could testify to thesethree signatures! Mrs. Mallathorpe, there's not a chance for you if Iput that will into the hands of the two trustees!"

He leaned back in his chair after that--nodding confidently, watchingkeenly. And now he saw that the trembling fingers were interlacing eachother, twisting the rings on each other, and that Mrs. Mallathorpe wasthinking as she had most likely never thought in her life. After amoment's pause Pratt went on. "Perhaps you didn't understand, " he said. "I mean, you don't know the effect. Those two trustees--Charlesworth &Wyatt--could turn you all clean out of this--tomorrow, in a way ofspeaking. Everything's theirs! They can demand an account of every pennythat you've all had out of the estate and the business--from the timeyou all took hold. If anything's been saved, put aside, they can demandthat. You're entitled to nothing but the three amounts of ten thousandeach. Of course, thirty thousand is thirty thousand--it means, at fiveper cent. , fifteen hundred a year--if you could get five per cent. Safely. But--I should say your son and daughter are getting a fewthousand a year each, aren't they, Mrs. Mallathorpe? It would be a nicecome-down! Five hundred a year apiece--at the outside. A small houseinstead of Normandale Grange. Genteel poverty--comparativelyspeaking--instead of riches. That is--if I hand over the will toCharlesworth & Wyatt. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe slowly turned her eyes on Pratt. And Pratt suddenlyfelt a little afraid--there was anger in those eyes; anger of a curioussort. It might be against fate--against circumstance: it might not--whyshould it?--be against him personally, but it was there, and it wasmalign and almost evil, and it made him uncomfortable. 

"Where is the will!" she asked. 

"Safe! In my keeping, " answered Pratt. 

She looked him all over--surmisingly. 

"You'll sell it to me?" she suggested. "You'll hand it over--and let meburn it--destroy it?"

"No!" answered Pratt. "I shall not!"

He saw that his answer produced personal anger at last. Mrs. Mallathorpegave him a look which would have warned a much less observant man thanPratt. But he gave her back a look that was just as resolute. 

"I say no--and I mean no!" he continued. "I won't sell--but I'llbargain. Let's be plain with each other. You don't want that will to behanded over to the trustees named in it, Charlesworth & Wyatt?"

"Do you think I'm a fool--man!" she flashed out. 

"I should be a fool myself if I did, " replied Pratt calmly. "And I'm nota fool. Very well--then you'll square me. You'll buy me. Come to termswith me, and nobody shall ever know. I repeat to you what I've saidbefore--not a soul knows now, no nor suspects! It's utterly impossiblefor anybody to find out. The testator's dead. The attesting witnessesare dead. The man who found this will is dead. No one but you and myselfever need know a word about all this. If--you make terms with me, Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

"What do you want?" she asked sullenly. "You forget--I've nothing of myown. I didn't come into anything. "

"I've a pretty good notion who's real master here--and at MallathorpeMill, too, " retorted Pratt. "I should say you're still in full controlof your children, Mrs. Mallathorpe, and that you can do pretty well whatyou like with them. "

"With one of them perhaps, " she said, still angry and sullen. "But--Itell you, for you may as well know--if my daughter knew of what you'vetold me, she'd go straight to these trustees and tell! That's a factthat you'd better realize. I can't control her. "

"Oh!" remarked Pratt. "Um!--then we must take care that she doesn'tknow. But we don't intend that anybody should know but you and me, Mrs. Mallathorpe. You needn't tell a soul--not even your son. You mustn'ttell! Listen, now--I've thought out a good scheme which'll profit me, and make you safe. Do you know what you want on this estate?"

She stared at him as if wondering what this question had to do with thematter which was of such infinite importance. And Pratt smiled, andhastened to enlighten her. 

"You want--a steward, " he said. "A steward and estate agent. JohnMallathorpe managed everything for himself, but your son can't, andpardon me if I say that you can't--properly. You need a man--you needme. You can persuade your son to that effect. Give me the job of stewardhere. I'll suggest to you how to do it in such a fashion that it'llarouse no suspicion, and look just like an ordinary--veryordinary--business job--at a salary and on conditions to be arranged, and--you're safe! Safe, Mrs. Mallathorpe--you know what that means!"

Mrs. Mallathorpe suddenly rose from her chair. 

"I know this!" she said. "I'll discuss nothing, and do nothing, tillI've seen that will!"

Pratt rose, too, nodding his head as if quite satisfied. He took up thecopy, tore it in two pieces, and carefully dropped them into the glowingfire. 

"I shall be at my lodgings at any time after five-thirty tomorrowevening, " he answered quietly. "Call there. You have the address. Andyou can then read the will with your own eyes. I shan't bring it here. The game's in my hands, Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

Within a few minutes he was out in the park again, and making his way tothe little railway station in the valley below. He felt triumphant--heknew that the woman he had just left was at his mercy and would accedeto his terms. And all the way back to town, and through the town to hislodgings, he considered and perfected the scheme he was going to suggestto Mrs. Mallathorpe on the morrow. 

Pratt lived in a little hamlet of old houses on the very outskirts ofBarford--on the edge of a stretch of Country honeycombed bystone-quarries, some in use, some already worked out. It was a lonelyneighbourhood, approached from the nearest tramway route by a narrow, high-walled lane. He was half-way along that lane when a stealthy footstole to his side, and a hand was laid on his arm--just as stealthilycame the voice of one of his fellow-clerks at Eldrick & Pascoe's. 

"A moment, Pratt! I've been waiting for you. I want--a word or two--inprivate!"

CHAPTER VI

THE UNEXPECTED

Pratt started when he heard that voice and felt the arresting hand. Heknew well enough to whom they belonged--they were those of one JamesParrawhite, a little, weedy, dissolute chap who had been in Eldrick &Pascoe's employ for about a year. It had always been a mystery to himand the other clerks that Parrawhite had been there at all, and thatbeing there he was allowed to stop. He was not a Barford man. Nobodyknew anything whatever about him, though his occasional references to itseemed to indicate that he knew London pretty thoroughly. Pratt shrewdlysuspected that he was a man whom Eldrick had known in other days, possibly a solicitor who had been struck off the rolls, and to whomEldrick, for old times' sake, was disposed to extend a helping hand. 

All that any of them knew was that one morning some fifteen monthspreviously, Parrawhite, a complete stranger, had walked into the office, asked to see Eldrick, had remained closeted with him half an hour, andhad been given a job at two pounds a week, there and then. That he was aclever and useful clerk no one denied, but no one liked him. 

He was always borrowing half-crowns. He smelt of rum. He was altogetherundesirable. It was plain to the clerks that Pascoe disliked him. But hewas evidently under Eldrick's protection, and he did his work and did itwell, and there was no doubt that he knew more law than either of thepartners, and was better up in practice than Pratt himself. But--he wasnot desirable . . . And Pratt never desired him less than on thisoccasion. 

"What are you after--coming on a man like that!" growled Pratt. 

"You, " replied Parrawhite. "I knew you'd got to come up this lane, so Iwaited for you. I've something to say. "

"Get it said, then!" retorted Pratt. 

"Not here, " answered Parrawhite. "Come down by the quarry--nobody aboutthere. "

"And suppose I don't?" asked Pratt. 

"Then you'll be very sorry for yourself--tomorrow, " replied Parrawhite. "That's all!"

Pratt had already realized that this fellow knew something. Parrawhite'smanner was not only threatening but confident. He spoke as a man speakswho has got the whip hand. And so, still growling, and inwardly ragingand anxious, he turned off with his companion into a track which layamongst the stone quarries. It was a desolate, lonely place; no housewas near; they were as much alone as if they had been in the middle ofone of the great moors outside the town, the lights of which they couldsee in the valley below them. In the grey sky above, a waning moon gavethem just sufficient light to see their immediate surroundings--agrass-covered track, no longer used, and the yawning mouths of the oldquarries, no longer worked, the edges of which were thick with gorse andbramble. It was the very place for secret work, and Pratt was certainthat secret work was at hand. 

"Now then!" he said, when they had walked well into the wilderness. "What is it? And no nonsense!"

"You'll get no nonsense from me, " sneered Parrawhite. "I'm not thatsort. This is what I want to say. I was in Eldrick's office last nightall the time you were there with old Bartle. "

This swift answer went straight through Pratt's defences. He wasprepared to hear something unpleasant and disconcerting, but not that. And he voiced the first thought that occurred to him. 

"That's a lie!" he exclaimed. "There was nobody there!"

"No lie, " replied Parrawhite. "I was there. I was behind the curtain ofthat recess--you know. And since I know what you did, I don't mindtelling you--we're in the same boat, my lad!--what I was going to do. You thought I'd gone--with the others. But I hadn't. I'd merely donewhat I've done several times without being found out--slipped inthere--to wait until you'd gone. Why? Because friend Eldrick, as youknow, is culpably careless about leaving loose cash in the unlockeddrawer of his desk, culpably careless, too, about never counting it. And--a stray sovereign or half-sovereign is useful to a man who onlygets two quid a week. Understand?"

"So you're a thief?" said Pratt bitterly. 

"I'm precisely what you are--a thief!" retorted Parrawhite. "You stoleJohn Mallathorpe's will last night. I heard everything, I tell you!--andsaw everything. I heard the whole business--what the old man said--whatyou, later, said to Eldrick. I saw old Bartle die--I saw you take thewill from his pocket, read it, and put it in your pocket. I knowall!--except the terms of the will. But--I've a pretty good idea of whatthose terms are. Do you know why? Because I watched you set off toNormandale by the eight-twenty train tonight!"

"Hang you for a dirty sneak!" growled Pratt. 

Parrawhite laughed, and flourished a heavy stick which he carried. 

"Not a bit of it!" he said, almost pleasantly. "I thought you were moreof a philosopher--I fancied I'd seen gleams--mere gleams--of philosophyin you at times. Fortunes of war, my boy! Come now--you've seen enoughof me to know I'm an adventurer. This is an adventure of the sort Ilove. Go into it heart and soul, man! Own up!--you've found out that thewill leaves the property away from the present holders, and you've beento Normandale to--bargain? Come, now!"

"What then!" demanded Pratt. 

"Then, of course, I come in at the bargaining, " answered Parrawhite. "I'm going to have my share. That's a certainty. You'd better take myadvice. Because you're absolutely in my power. I've nothing to do but totell Eldrick tomorrow morning. "

"Suppose I tell Eldrick tomorrow morning of what you've told me?"interjected Pratt. 

"Eldrick will believe me before you, " retorted Parrawhite, imperturbably. "I'm a much cleverer, more plausible man than you are, myfriend--I've had an experience of the world which you haven't, I caneasily invent a fine excuse for being in that room. For two pins I'llincriminate you! See? Be reasonable--for if it comes to a contest ofbrains, you haven't a rabbit's chance against a fox. Tell me all aboutthe will--and what you've done. You've got to--for, by the LordHarry!--I'm going to have my share. Come, now!"

Pratt stood, in a little hollow wherein they had paused, and thought, rapidly and angrily. There was no doubt about it--he was trapped. Thisfearful scoundrel at his side, who boasted of his cleverness, wouldstick to him like a leach--he would have to share. All his own smartschemes for exploiting Mrs. Mallathorpe, for ensuring himself acompetence for life, were knocked on the head. There was no helpingit--he would have to tell--and to share. And so, sullenly, resentfully, he told. 

Parrawhite listened in silence, taking in every point. Pratt, knowingthat concealment was useless, told the truth about everything, concisely, but omitting nothing. 

"All right!" remarked Parrawhite at the end, "Now, then, what terms doyou mean to insist on?"

"What's the good of going into that?" growled Pratt. "Now that you'vestuck your foot in it, what do my terms matter?"

"Quite right, " agreed Parrawhite, "They don't. What matter is--ourterms. Now let me suggest--no, insist on--what they must be. Cash! Doyou know why I insist on that? No? Then I'll tell you. Because thisyoung barrister chap, Collingwood, has evidently got some suspicionof--something. "

"I can't see it, " said Pratt uneasily. "He was only curious to know whatthat letter was about. "

"Never mind, " continued Parrawhite. "He had some suspicion--or hewouldn't have gone out there almost as soon as he reached Barford afterhis grandfather's death. And even if suspicion is put to sleep forawhile, it can easily be reawakened, so--cash! We must profit atonce--before any future risk arises. But--what terms were you thinkingof?"

"Stewardship of this estate for life, " muttered Pratt gloomily. 

"With the risk of some discovery being made, some time, any time!"sneered Parrawhite. "Where are your brains, man? The old fellow, JohnMallathorpe, probably made a draft or two of that will before he did hisfair copy--he may have left those drafts among his papers. "

"If he did, Mrs. Mallathorpe 'ud find 'em, " said Pratt slowly. "I don'tbelieve there's the slightest risk. I've figured everything out. I don'tbelieve there's any danger from Collingwood or from anybody--it'simpossible! And if we take cash now--we're selling for a penny what weought to get pounds for. "

"The present is much more important than the future, my friend, "answered Parrawhite. "To me, at any rate. Now, then, this is myproposal. I'll be with you when this lady calls at your place tomorrowevening. We'll offer her the will, to do what she likes with, for tenthousand pounds. She can find that--quickly. When she pays--as shewill!--we share, equally, and then--well, you can go to the devil! Ishall go--somewhere else. So that's settled. "

"No!" said Pratt. 

Parrawhite turned sharply, and Pratt saw a sinister gleam in his eyes. 

"Did you say no?" he asked. 

"I said--no!" replied Pratt. "I'm not going to take five thousand poundsfor a chance that's worth fifty thousand. Hang you!--if you hadn't beena black sneak-thief, as you are, I'd have had the whole thing to myself!And I don't know that I will give way to you. If it comes to it, myword's as good as yours--and I don't believe Eldrick would believe youbefore me. Pascoe wouldn't anyway. You've got a past!--in quod, I shouldthink--my past's all right. I've a jolly good mind to let you do yourworst--after all, I've got the will. And by george! now I come to thinkof it, you can do your worst! Tell what you like tomorrow morning. Ishall tell 'em what you are--a scoundrel. "

He turned away at that--and as he turned, Parrawhite, with a queer cryof rage that might have come from some animal which saw its preyescaping, struck out at him with the heavy stick. The blow missedPratt's head, but it grazed the tip of his ear, and fell slantingly onhis left shoulder. And then the anger that had been boiling in Prattever since the touch on his arm in the dark lane, burst out in activity, and he turned on his assailant, gripped him by the throat beforeParrawhite could move, and after choking and shaking him until his teethrattled and his breath came in jerking sobs, flung him violently againstthe masses of stone by which they had been standing. 

Pratt was of considerable physical strength. He played cricket andfootball; he visited a gymnasium thrice a week. His hands had the gripof a blacksmith; his muscles were those of a prize-fighter. He had putmore strength than he was aware of into his fierce grip on Parrawhite'sthroat; he had exerted far more force than he knew he was exerting, whenhe flung him away. He heard a queer cracking sound as the man strucksomething, and for the moment he took no notice of it--the pain of thatglancing blow on his shoulder was growing acute, and he began to rub itwith his free hand and to curse its giver. 

"Get up, you fool, and I'll give you some more!" he growled. "I'll teachyou to----"

He suddenly noticed the curiously still fashion in which Parrawhite waslying where he had flung him--noticed, too, as a cloud passed the moonand left it unveiled, how strangely white the man's face was. And justas suddenly Pratt forgot his own injury, and dropped on his knees besidehis assailant. An instant later, and he knew that he was once moreconfronting death. For Parrawhite was as dead as Antony Bartle--violentcontact of his head with a rock had finished what Pratt had nearlycompleted with that vicious grip. There was no questioning it, nodenying it--Pratt was there in that lonely place, staring halfconsciously, half in terror, at a dead man. 

He stood up at last, cursing Parrawhite with the anger of despair. Hehad not one scrap of pity for him. All his pity was for himself. That heshould have been brought into this!--that this vile little beast, perfect scum that he was, should have led him to what might be the utterruin of his career!--it was shameful, it was abominable, it was cruel!He felt as if he could cheerfully tear Parrawhite's dead body to pieces. But even as these thoughts came, others of a more important naturecrowded on them. For--there lay a dead man, who was not to be put inone's pocket, like a will. It was necessary to hide that thing from thelight--ever that light. Within a few hours, morning would break, andlonely and deserted as that place was nowadays, some one might pass thatway. Out of sight with him, then!--and quickly. 

Pratt was very well acquainted with the spot at which he stood. Thoseold quarries had a certain picturesqueness. They had become grass-grown;ivy, shrubs, trees had clustered about them--the people who lived in thefew houses half a mile away, sometimes walked around them; the childrenmade a playground of the place: Pratt himself had often gone into somequiet corner to read and smoke. And now his quick mind immediatelysuggested a safe hiding place for this thing that he could not carryaway with him, and dare not leave to the morning sun--close by was apit, formerly used for some quarrying purpose, which was filled, alwaysfilled, with water. It was evidently of considerable depth; the waterwas black in it; the mouth was partly obscured by a maze of shrub andbramble. It had been like that ever since Pratt came to lodge in thatpart of the district--ten or twelve years before; it would probablyremain like that for many a long year to come. That bit of land wasabsolutely useless and therefore neglected, and as long as rain fell andwater drained, that pit would always be filled to its brim. 

He remembered something else: also close by where he stood--a heap ofold iron things--broken and disused picks, smashed rails, fragmentsthrown aside when the last of the limestone had been torn out of thequarries. Once more luck was playing into his hands--those odds and endsmight have been put there for the very purpose to which he now meant toturn them. And being certain that he was alone, and secure, Prattproceeded to go about his unpleasant task skilfully and methodically. Hefetched a quantity of the iron, fastened it to the dead man's clothing, drew the body, thus weighted, to the edge of the pit, and prepared toslide it into the black water. But there an idea struck him. While hemade these preparations he had had hosts of ideas as to his operationsnext morning--this idea was supplementary to them. Quickly andmethodically he removed the contents of Parrawhite's pockets to hisown--everything: money, watch and chain, even a ring which the dead manhad been evidently vain of. Then he let Parrawhite glide into thewater--and after him he sent the heavy stick, carefully fastened to abar of iron. 

Five minutes later, the surface of the water in that pit was as calm andunruffled as ever--not a ripple showed that it had been disturbed. AndPratt made his way out of the wilderness, swearing that he would neverenter it again. 

CHAPTER VII

THE SUPREME INDUCEMENT

Pratt was in Eldrick & Pascoe's office soon after half-past eight nextmorning, and for nearly forty minutes he had the place entirely tohimself. But it took only a few of those minutes for him to do what hehad carefully planned before he went to bed the previous night. Shuttinghimself into Eldrick's private room, and making sure that he was alonethat time, he immediately opened the drawer in the senior partner'sdesk, wherein Eldrick, culpably enough, as Parrawhite had sneeringlyremarked, was accustomed to put loose money. Eldrick was strangelycareless in that way: he would throw money into that drawer in presenceof his clerks--notes, gold, silver. If it happened to occur to him, hewould take the money out at the end of the afternoon and hand it toPratt to lock up in the safe; but as often as not, it did not occur. Pratt had more than once ventured on a hint which was almost aremonstrance, and Eldrick had paid no attention to him. He was acareless, easy-going man in many respects, Eldrick, and liked to dothings in his own way. And after all, as Pratt had decided, when hefound that his hints were not listened to, it was Eldrick's own affairif he liked to leave the money lying about. 

There was money lying about in that drawer when Pratt drew it open; itwas never locked, day or night, or, if it was, the key was left in it. As soon as he opened it, he saw gold--two or three sovereigns--andsilver--a little pile of it. And, under a letter weight, four banknotesof ten pounds each. But this was precisely what Pratt had expected tosee; he himself had handed banknotes, gold, and silver to Eldrick theprevious evening, just after receiving them from a client who had calledto pay his bill. And he had seen Eldrick place them in the drawer, asusual, and soon afterwards Eldrick had walked out, saying he was goingto the club, and he had never returned. 

What Pratt now did was done as the result of careful thought anddeliberation. There was a cheque-book lying on top of some papers in thedrawer; he took it up and tore three cheques out of it. Then he pickedup the bank-notes, tore them and the abstracted blank cheques intopieces, and dropped the pieces in the fire recently lighted by thecaretaker. He watched these fragments burn, and then he put the gold andsilver in his hip-pocket, where he already carried a good deal of hisown, and walked out. 

Nine o'clock brought the office-boy; a quarter-past nine brought theclerks; at ten o'clock Eldrick walked in. According to custom, Prattwent into Eldrick's room with the letters, and went through them withhim. One of them contained a legal document over which the solicitorfrowned a little. 

"Ask Parrawhite's opinion about that, " he said presently, indicating amarked paragraph. 

"Parrawhite has not come in this morning, sir, " observed Pratt, gathering up letters and papers. "I'll draw his attention to it when hearrives. "

He went into the outer office, only to be summoned back to Eldrick a fewminutes later. The senior partner was standing by his desk, looking alittle concerned, and, thought Pratt, decidedly uncomfortable. Hemotioned the clerk to close the door. 

"Has Parrawhite come?" he asked. 

"No, " replied Pratt, "Not yet, Mr. Eldrick. "

"Is--is he usually late?" inquired Eldrick. 

"Usually quite punctual--half-past nine, " said Pratt. 

Eldrick glanced at his watch; then at his clerk. 

"Didn't you give me some cash last night?" he asked. 

"Forty-three pounds nine, " answered Pratt. "Thompson's bill of costs--hepaid it yesterday afternoon. "

Eldrick looked more uncomfortable than ever. 

"Well--the fact is, " he said, "I--I meant to hand it to you to put inthe safe, Pratt, but I didn't come back from the club. And--it's gone!"

Pratt simulated concern--but not astonishment. And Eldrick pulled openthe drawer, and waved a hand over it. 

"I put it down there, " he said. "Very careless of me, no doubt--butnothing of this sort has ever happened before, and--however, there's theunpleasant fact, Pratt. The money's gone!"

Pratt, who had hastily turned over the papers and other contents of thedrawer, shook his head and used his privilege as an old and confidentialservant. "I've always said, sir, that it was a great mistake to leaveloose money lying about, " he remarked mournfully. "If there'd only beena practice of letting me lock anything of that sort up in the safe everynight--and this chequebook, too, sir--then----"

"I know--I know!" said Eldrick. "Very reprehensible on my part--I'mafraid I am careless--no doubt of it. But----"

He in his turn was interrupted by Pratt, who was turning over thecheque-book. 

"Some cheque forms have been taken out of this, " he said. "Three! at theend. Look there, sir!"

Eldrick uttered an exclamation of intense annoyance and disgust. Helooked at the despoiled cheque-book, and flung it into the drawer. 

"Pratt!" he said, turning half appealingly, half confidentially to theclerk. "Don't say a word of this--above all, don't mention it to Mr. Pascoe. It's my fault and I must make the forty-three pounds good. Pratt, I'm afraid this is Parrawhite's work. I--well, I may as well tellyou--he'd been in trouble before he came here. I gave him anotherchance--I'd known him, years ago. I thought he'd go straight. But--Ifear he's been tempted. He may have seen me leave money about. Was he inhere last night?"

Pratt pointed to a document which lay on Eldrick's desk. 

"He came in here to leave that for your perusal, " he answered. "He wasin here--alone--a minute or two before he left. "

All these lies came readily and naturally--and Eldrick swallowed each. He shook his head. 

"My fault--all my fault!" he said. "Look here--keep it quiet. But--doyou know where Parrawhite has lived--lodged?"

"No!" replied Pratt. "Some of the others may, though!"

"Try to find out--quickly, " continued Eldrick; "Then, make some excuseto go out--take papers somewhere, or something--and find if he's lefthis lodgings! I--I don't want to set the police on him. He was a decentfellow, once. See what you can make out, Pratt. In strict secrecy, youknow---I do not want this to go further. "

Pratt could have danced for joy when he presently went out into thetown. There would be no hue-and-cry after Parrawhite--none! Eldrickwould accept the fact that Parrawhite had robbed him and flown--andParrawhite would never be heard of--never mentioned again. It was theheight of good luck for him. Already he had got rid of any small scrapsof regret or remorse about the killing of his fellow-clerk. Why shouldhe be sorry? The scoundrel had tried to murder him, thinking no doubtthat he had the will on him. And he had not meant to kill him--what hehad done, he had done in self-defence. No--everything was working mostadmirably--Parrawhite's previous bad record, Eldrick's carelessness andhis desire to shut things up: it was all good. From that day forward, Parrawhite would be as if he had never been. Pratt was not even afraidof the body being discovered--though he believed that it would remainwhere it was for ever--for the probability was that the authoritieswould fill up that pit with earth and stones. But if it was brought tolight? Why, the explanation was simple. 

Parrawhite, having robbed his employer, had been robbed himself, possibly by men with whom he had been drinking, and had been murdered inthe bargain. No suspicion could attach to him, Pratt--he had nothing tofear--nothing!

For the form of the thing, he called at the place whereat Parrawhite hadlodged--they had seen nothing of him since the previous morning. Theywere poor, cheap lodgings in a mean street. The woman of the house saidthat Parrawhite had gone out as usual the morning before, and had neverbeen in again. In order to find out all he could, Pratt asked if he hadleft much behind him in the way of belongings, and--just as he hadexpected--he learned that Parrawhite's personal property was remarkablylimited: he possessed only one suit of clothes and not over muchbesides, said the landlady. 

"Is there aught wrong?" she asked, when Pratt had finished hisquestions. "Are you from where he worked?"

"That's it, " answered Pratt, "And he hasn't turned up this morning, andwe think he's left the town. Owe you anything, missis?"

"Nay, nothing much, " she replied. "Ten shillings 'ud cover it, mister. "

Pratt gave her half a sovereign. It was not out of consideration forher, nor as a concession to Parrawhite's memory: it was simply to stopher from coming down to Eldrick & Pascoe's. 

"Well, I don't think you'll see him again, " he remarked. "And I dare sayyou won't care if you don't. "

He turned away then, but before he had gone far, the woman called himback. 

"What am I to do with his bits of things, mister, if he doesn't comeback?" she asked. 

"Aught you please, " answered Pratt, indifferently. "Throw 'em on thedust-heap. "

As he went back to the centre of the town, he occupied himself inconsidering his attitude to Mrs. Mallathorpe when she called on him thatevening. In spite of his own previous notion, and of hiscarefully-worked-out scheme about the stewardship, he had been impressedby what Parrawhite has said as to the wisdom of selling the will forcash. Pratt did not believe that there was anything in the Collingwoodsuggestion--no doubt whatever, he had decided, that old Bartle had meantto tell Mrs. Mallathorpe of his discovery when she called in answer tohis note, but as he had died before she could call, and as he had toldnobody but him, Pratt, what possible danger could there be fromCollingwood? And a stewardship for life appealed to him. He knew, fromobservation of the world, what a fine thing it is to have a certainty. 

Once he became steward and agent of the Normandale Grange estate, hewould stick there, until he had saved a tidy heap of money. Then hewould retire--with a pension and a handsome present--and enjoy himself. To be provided for, for life!--what more could a wise man want? Andyet--there was something in what that devil Parrawhite had urged. 

For there was a risk--however small--of discovery, and if discovery weremade, there would be a nice penalty to pay. It might, after all, bebetter to sell the will outright--for as much ready money as ever hecould get, and to take his gains far away, and start out on a careerelsewhere. After all, there was much to be said for the old proverb. Theonly question was--was the bird in hand worth the two; or the money, which he believed he would net in the bush?

Pratt's doubts on this point were settled in a curious fashion. He hadreached the centre of the town in his return to Eldrick's, and there, inthe fashionable shopping street, he ran up against an acquaintance. Heand the acquaintance stopped and chatted--about nothing. And as theylounged on the curb, a smart victoria drew up close by, and out of it, alone, stepped a girl who immediately attracted Pratt's eyes. He watchedher across the pavement; he watched her into the shop. And his companionlaughed. 

"That's the sort!" he remarked flippantly. "If you and I had one each, old man--what?"

"Who is she?" demanded Pratt. 

The acquaintance stared at him in surprise. 

"What!" he exclaimed. "You don't know. That's Miss Mallathorpe. "

"I didn't know, " said Pratt. "Fact!"

He waited until Nesta Mallathorpe came out and drove away--so that hecould get another and a closer look at her. And when she was gone, hewent slowly back to the office, his mind made up. Risk or no risk, hewould carry out his original notion. Whatever Mrs. Mallathorpe mightoffer, he would stick to his idea of close and intimate connection withNormandale Grange. 

CHAPTER VIII

TERMS

Mrs. Mallathorpe, left to face the situation which Pratt had revealed toher in such sudden and startling fashion, had been quick to realize itsseriousness. It had not taken much to convince her that the clerk knewwhat he was talking about. She had no doubt whatever that he was rightwhen he said that the production of John Mallathorpe's will would meandispossession to her children, and through them to herself. Nor had sheany doubt, either, of Pratt's intention to profit by his discovery. Shesaw that he was a young man of determination, not at all scrupulous, eager to seize on anything likely to turn to his own advantage. She was, in short, at his mercy. And she had no one to turn to. Her son was weak, purposeless, almost devoid of character; he cared for nothing beyondease and comfort, and left everything to her so long as he was allowedto do what he liked. She dared not confide in him--he was not fit to beentrusted with such a secret, nor endowed with the courage to carry itboldly and unflinchingly. Nor dare she confide it to her daughter--Nestawas as strong as her brother was weak: Mrs. Mallathorpe had only toldthe plain truth when she said to Pratt that if her daughter knew of thewill she would go straight to the two trustees. No--she would have to doeverything herself. And she could do nothing save under Pratt'sdictation. So long as he had that will in his possession, he could makeher agree to whatever terms he liked to insist upon. 

She spent a sleepless night, resolving all sorts of plans; she resolvedmore plans and schemes during the day which followed. But they all endedat the same point--Pratt. All the future depended upon--Pratt. And bythe end of the day it had come to this--she must make a determinedeffort to buy Pratt clean out, so that she could get the will into herown possession and destroy it. She knew that she could easily find thenecessary money--Harper Mallathorpe had such a natural dislike of allbusiness matters and was so little fitted to attend to them that he wasonly too well content to leave everything relating to the estate and themill at Barford to his mother. Up to that time Mrs. Mallathorpe hadmanaged the affairs of both, and she had large sums at her disposal, outof which she could pay Pratt without even Harper being aware that shewas paying him anything. And surely no young man in Pratt's position--amere clerk, earning a few pounds a week--would refuse a big sum of readymoney! It seemed incredible to her--and she went into Barford towardsevening hoping that by the time she returned the will would have beenburned to grey ashes. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe used some ingenuity in making her visit to Pratt. Giving out that she was going to see a friend in Barford, of whoseillness she had just heard, she drove into the town, and on arrivingnear the Town Hall dismissed her carriage, with orders to the coachmanto put up his horses at a certain livery stable, and to meet her at thesame place at a specified time. Then she went away on foot, and drew athick veil over her face before hiring a cab in which she drove up tothe outskirt on which Pratt had his lodging. She was still veiled whenPratt's landlady showed her into the clerk's sitting-room. 

"Is it safe here?" she asked at once. "Is there no fear of anybodyhearing what we may say?"

"None!" answered Pratt reassuringly. "I know these folks--I've livedhere several years. And nobody could hear however much they put theirears to the keyhole. Good thick old walls, these, Mrs. Mallathorpe, anda solid door. We're as safe here as we were in your study last night. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe sat down in the chair which Pratt politely drew nearhis fire. She raised her veil and looked at him, and the clerk saw atonce how curious and eager she was. 

"That--will!" she said, in a low voice. "Let me see it--first. "

"One moment, " answered Pratt. "First--you understand that I'm not goingto let you handle it. I'll hold it before you, so you can read it. Second--you give me your promise--I'm trusting you--that you'll make noattempt to seize it. It's not going out of my hands. "

"I'm only a woman--and you're a strong man, " she retorted sullenly. 

"Quite so, " said Pratt. "But women have a trick of snatching at things. And--if you please--you'll do exactly what I tell you to do. Put yourhands behind you! If I see you make the least movement with them--backgoes the will into my pocket!"

If Pratt had looked more closely at her just then, he would have takenwarning from the sudden flash of hatred and resentment which sweptacross Mrs. Mallathorpe's face--it would have told him that he wasdealing with a dangerous woman who would use her wits to circumvent andbeat him--if not now, then later. But he was moving the gas bracket overthe mantelpiece, and he did not see. 

"Very well--but I had no intention of touching it, " said Mrs. Mallathorpe. "All I want is to see it--and read it. "

She obediently followed out Pratt's instructions, and standing in frontof her he produced the will, unfolded it, and held it at a convenientdistance before her eyes. He watched her closely, as she read it, and hesaw her grow very pale. 

"Take your time--read it over two or three times, " he said quietly. "Getit well into your mind, Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

She nodded her head at last, and Pratt stepped back, folded up the will, and turning to a heavy box which lay open on the table, placed itwithin, under lock and key. And that done, he turned back and took achair, close to his visitor. 

"Safe there, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " he said with a glance that was bothreassuring and cunning. "But only for the night. I keep a few securitiesof my own at one of the banks in the town--never mind which--and thatwill shall be deposited with them tomorrow morning. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe shook her head. 

"No!" she said. "Because--you'll come to terms with me. "

Pratt shook his head, too, and he laughed. 

"Of course I shall come to terms with you, " he answered. "But they'll bemy terms--and they don't include any giving up of that document. That'sflat, Mrs. Mallathorpe!"

"Not if I make it worth your while?" she asked. "Listen!--you don't knowwhat ready money I can command. Ready money, I tell you--cash down, onthe spot!"

"I've a pretty good notion, " responded Pratt. "It's generally understoodin the town that your son's a mere figure-head, and that you're the realboss of the whole show. I know that you're at the mill four times aweek, and that the managers are under your thumb. I know that you manageeverything connected with the estate. So, of course, I know you've lotsof ready money at your disposal. "

"And I know that you don't earn more than four or five pounds a week, atthe outside, " said Mrs. Mallathorpe quietly. "Come, now--just think whata nice, convenient thing it would be to a young man of your age tohave--a capital. Capital! It would be the making of you. You could goright away--to London, say, and start out on whatever you liked. Besensible--sell me that paper--and be done with the whole thing. "

"No!" replied Pratt. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe looked at him for a full moment. She was a shrewd judgeof character, and she felt that Pratt was one of those men who are hardto stir from a position once adopted. But she had to make hereffort--and she made it in what she thought the most effective way. 

"I'll give you five thousand pounds--cash--for it, " she said. "Meet mewith it tomorrow--anywhere you like in the town--any time you like--andI'll hand you the money--in notes. "

"No!" said Pratt. "No!"

Once more she looked at him. And Pratt looked back--and smiled. 

"When I say no, I mean no, " he went on. "And I never meant 'No' morefirmly than I do now. "

"I don't believe you, " she answered, affecting a doubt which shecertainly did not feel. "You're only holding out for more money. "

"If I were holding out for more money, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " replied Pratt, "if I meant to sell you that will for cash payment, I should have statedmy terms to you last night. I should have said precisely how much Iwanted--and I shouldn't have budged from the amount. Mrs. Mallathorpe!--it's no good. I've got my own schemes, and my ownideas--and I'm going to carry 'em out. I want you to appoint me stewardto your property, your affairs, for life. "

"Life!" she exclaimed. "Life!"

"My life, " answered Pratt. "And let me tell you--you'll find me afirst-class man--a good, faithful, honest servant. I'll do well by youand yours. You'll never regret it as long as you live. It'll be the bestday's work you've ever done. I'll look after your son'sinterests--everybody's interests--as if they were my own. As indeed, " headded, with a sly glance, "they will be. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe realized the finality, the resolve, in all this--butshe made one more attempt. 

"Ten thousand!" she said. "Come, now!--think what ten thousand pounds incash would mean to you!"

"No--nor twenty thousand, " replied Pratt. "I've made up my mind. I'llhave my own terms. It's no use--not one bit of use--haggling ordiscussing matters further. I'm in possession of the will--and thereforeof the situation, Mrs. Mallathorpe, you've just got to do what I tellyou!"

He got up from his chair, and going over to a side-table took from it ablotting-pad, some writing paper and a pencil. For the moment his backwas turned--and again he did not see the look of almost murderous hatredwhich came into his visitor's eyes; had he seen and understood it, hemight even then have reconsidered matters and taken Mrs. Mallathorpe'slast offer. But the look had gone when he turned again, and he noticednothing as he handed over the writing materials. 

"What are these for?" she asked. 

"You'll see in a moment, " replied Pratt, reseating himself, and drawinghis chair a little nearer her own. "Now listen--because it's no goodarguing any more. You're going to give me that stewardship and agency. You'll simply tell your son that it's absolutely necessary to have asteward. He'll agree. If he doesn't, no matter--you'll convince him. Now, then, we must do it in a fashion that won't excite any suspicion. Thus--in a few days--say next week--you'll insert in the Barfordpapers--all three of them--the advertisement I'm going to dictate toyou. We'll put it in the usual, formal phraseology. Write this down, ifyou please, Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

He dictated an advertisement, setting forth the requirements of which hehad spoken, and Mrs. Mallathorpe obeyed him and wrote. She hated Prattmore than ever at that moment--there was a quiet, steadfastimplacability about him that made her feel helpless. But she restrainedall sign of it, and when she had done his bidding she looked at him ascalmly as he looked at her. 

"I am to insert this in the Barford papers next week, " she said. "And--what then?"

"Then you'll get a lot of applications for the job, " chuckled Pratt. "There'll be mine amongst them. You can throw most of 'em in the fire. Keep a few for form's sake. Profess to discuss them with Mr. Harper--butlet the discussion be all on your side. I'll send two or three goodtestimonials--you'll incline to me from the first. You'll send for me. Your interview with me will be highly satisfactory. And you'll give methe appointment. "

"And--your terms?" asked Mrs. Mallathorpe. Now that her own scheme hadfailed, she seemed quite placable to all Pratt's proposals--a sure signof danger to him if he had only known it. "Better let me know themnow--and have done with it. "

"Quite so, " agreed Pratt. "But first of all--can you keep this secret toyourself and me? The money part, any way?"

"I can--and shall, " she answered. 

"Good!" said Pratt. "Very well. I want a thousand a year. Also I wanttwo rooms--and a business room--at the Grange. I shall not interferewith you or your family, or your domestic arrangements, but I shallexpect to have all my meals served to me from your kitchen, and to haveone of your servants at my disposal. I know the Grange--I've been overit more than once. There's much more room there than you can make useof. Give me the rooms I want in one of the wings. I shan't disturb anyof you. You'll never see me except on business--and if you want to. "

Again the calm acquiescence which would have surprised some men. WhyPratt failed to be surprised by it was because he was just then feelingexceedingly triumphant--he believed that Mrs. Mallathorpe was, metaphorically, at his feet. He had more than a little vanity in him, and it pleased him greatly, that dictating of terms: he saw himself aconqueror, with his foot on the neck of his victim. 

"Is that all, then?" asked the visitor. 

"All!" answered Pratt. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe calmly folded up the draft advertisement and placed itin her purse. Then she rose and adjusted her veil. 

"Then--there is nothing to be done until I get your answer to this--yourapplication?" she asked. "Very well. "

Pratt showed her out, and walked to the cab with her. He went back tohis rooms highly satisfied--and utterly ignorant of what Mrs. Mallathorpe was thinking as she drove away. 

CHAPTER IX

UNTIL NEXT SPRING

Within a week of his sudden death in Eldrick's private office, oldAntony Bartle was safely laid in the tomb under the yew-tree of whichMrs. Clough had spoken with such appreciation, and his grandson hadentered into virtual possession of all that he had left. Collingwoodfound little difficulty in settling his grandfather's affairs. Everything had been left to him: he was sole executor as well as soleresiduary legatee. He found his various tasks made uncommonly easy. Another bookseller in the town hurried to buy the entire stock andbusiness, goodwill, book debts, everything--Collingwood was free of allresponsibility of the shop in Quagg Alley within a few days of the oldman's funeral. And when he had made a handsome present to thehousekeeper, a suitable one to the shop-boy, and paid his grandfather'slast debts, he was free to depart--a richer man by some five-and-twentythousand pounds than when he hurried down to Barford in response toEldrick's telegram. 

He sat in Eldrick's office one afternoon, winding up his affairs withhim. There were certain things that Eldrick & Pascoe would have to do;as for himself it was necessary for him to get back to London. 

"There's something I want to propose to you, " said Eldrick, when theyhad finished the immediate business. "You're going to practise, ofcourse?"

"Of course!" replied Collingwood, with a laugh. "If I get the chance!"

"You'll get the chance, " said Eldrick. "What were you going in for?"

"Commercial law--company law--as a special thing, " answered Collingwood. 

"Why?"

"I'll tell you what it is, " continued Eldrick eagerly. "There's a careerfor you if you'll take my advice. Leave London--come down here and takechambers in the town, and go the North-Eastern Circuit. I'll promiseyou--for our firm alone--plenty of work. You'll get more--there's lotsof work waiting here for a good, smart young barrister. Ah!--you smile, but I know what I'm talking about. You don't know Barford men. Theybelieve in the old adage that one should look at home before goingabroad. They're terribly litigious, too, and if you were here, on thespot, they'd give you work. What do you say, Collingwood?"

"That sounds very tempting. But I was thinking of sticking to London. "

"Not one hundredth part of the chance in London that there is here!"affirmed Eldrick. "We badly want two or three barristers in this place. Aman who's really well up in commercial and company law would soon havehis hands full. There's work, I tell you. Take my advice, and come!"

"I couldn't come--in any case--for a few months, " said Collingwood, musingly. "Of course, if you really think there's an opening----"

"I know there is!" asserted Eldrick. "I'll guarantee you lots ofwork--our work. I'm sick of fetching men down all the way from town, orgetting them from Leeds. Come!--and you'll see. "

"I might come in a few months' time, and try things for a year or two, "replied Collingwood. "But I'm off to India, you know, next week, and Ishall be away until the end of spring--four months or so. "

"To India!" exclaimed Eldrick. "What are you going to do there?"

"Sir John Standridge, " said Collingwood, mentioning a famous legalluminary of the day, "is going out to Hyderabad to take certainevidence, and hold a sort of inquiry, in a big case, and I'm going withhim as his secretary and assistant--I was in his chambers for two years, you know. We leave next week, and we shall not be back until the end ofApril. "

"Lucky man!" remarked the solicitor. "Well, when you return, don'tforget what I've said. Come back!--you'll not regret it. Come and settledown. Bye-the-bye, you're not engaged, are you?"

"Engaged?" said Collingwood. "To what--to whom--what do you mean?"

"Engaged to be married, " answered Eldrick coolly. "You're not? Good! Ifyou want a wife, there's Miss Mallathorpe. Nice, clever girl, myboy--and no end of what Barford folk call brass. The very woman foryou. "

"Do you Barford people ever think of anything else but what you callbrass?" asked Collingwood, laughing. 

"Sometimes, " replied Eldrick. "But it's generally of something thatnothing but brass can bring or produce. After all, a rich wife isn't adespicable thing, nowadays. You've seen this young lady?"

"I've been there once, " asserted Collingwood. 

"Go again--before you leave, " counselled Eldrick. "You're just the rightman. Listen to the counsels of the wise! And while you're in India, think well over my other advice. I tell you there's a career for you, here in the North, that you'd never get in town. "

Collingwood left him and went out--to find a motorcar and drive off toNormandale Grange, not because Eldrick had advised him to go, butbecause of his promise to Harper and Nesta Mallathorpe. And once more hefound Nesta alone, and though he had no spice of vanity in hiscomposition it seemed to him that she was glad when he walked into theroom in which they had first met. 

"My mother is out--gone to town--to the mill, " she said. "And Harper isknocking around the park with a gun--killing rabbits--and time. He'll bein presently to tea--and he'll be delighted to see you. Are you going tostay in Barford much longer?"

"I'm going up to town this evening--seven o'clock train, " answeredCollingwood, watching her keenly. "All my business is finished now--forthe present. "

"But--you'll be coming back?" she asked. 

"Perhaps, " he said. "I may come back--after a while. "

"When you do come back, " she went on, a little hurriedly, "will you comeand see us again? I--it's difficult to explain--but I do wish Harperknew more men--the right sort of men. Do you understand?"

"You mean--he needs more company?"

"More company of the right kind. He doesn't know many nice men. And hehas so little to occupy him. He's no head for business--my motherattends to all that--and he doesn't care much about sport--and when hegoes into Barford he only hangs about the club, and, I'm afraid, at twoor three of the hotels there, and--it's not good for him. "

"Can't you get him interested in anything?" suggested Collingwood. "Isthere nothing that he cares about?"

"He never did care about anything, " replied Nesta with a sigh. "He'sapathetic! He just moves along. Sometimes I think he was born halfasleep, and he's never been really awakened. Pity, isn't it?"

"Considering everything--a great pity, " agreed Collingwood. "But--he'sprovided for. "

Nesta gave him a swift glance. 

"It might have been a good deal better for him if he hadn't beenprovided for!" she said. "He'd have just had to do something, then. But--if you come back, you'll come here sometimes?"

"Of course!" answered Collingwood. "And if I come back, it will probablybe to stop here. Mr. Eldrick says there's a lot of work going begging inBarford--for a smart young barrister well up in commercial law. PerhapsI may try to come up to his standard--I'm certainly young, but I don'tknow whether I'm smart. "

"Better come and try, " she said, smiling. "Don't forget that I've seenyou look the part, anyway--your wig and gown suited you very well. "

"Theatrical properties, " he replied, laughing. "The wig was too small, and the gown too long. Well--we'll see. But in the meantime, I'm goingaway for four months--to India. "

"To India--four months!" she exclaimed. "That sounds nice. "

"Legal business, " said Collingwood. "I shall be back about the end ofApril--and then I shall probably come down here again, and seriouslyconsider Eldrick's suggestion. I'm very much inclined to take it. "

"Then--you'd leave London?" she asked. 

"I've little to leave there, " replied Collingwood. "My father and motherare dead, and I've no brothers, no sisters--no very near relations. Sounds lonely, doesn't it?"

"One can feel lonely when one has relations, " said Nesta. 

"Are you saying that from--experience?" he asked. 

"I often wish I had more to do, " she answered frankly. "What's the useof denying it? I've next to nothing to do, here. I liked my work at thehospital--I was busy all day. Here----"

"If I were you, " interrupted Collingwood, "I'd set to work nursing inanother fashion. Look after your brother! Get him going atsomething--even if it's playing golf. Play with him! It would dohim--and you--all the good in the world if you got thoroughly infatuatedwith even a game. Don't you see?"

"You mean--anything is better than nothing, " she replied. "Allright--I'll try that, anyway. For--I'm anxious about Harper. All thismoney!--and no occupation!"

Collingwood, who was sitting near the windows, looked out across thepark and into the valley beyond. 

"I should have thought that a man who had come into an estate like thiswould have found plenty of occupation, " he remarked. "What is there, beside the house and this park?"

Nesta, who had busied herself with some fancy-work since Collingwood'sentrance, laid it down and came to the windows. She pointed to certainroofs and gables in the valley. 

"There's the whole village of Normandale, " she said. "A busy place, nodoubt, but it's all Harper's--he's lord of the manor. He's patron of theliving, too. It's all his--farms, cottages, everything. And the woods, and the park, and this house, and a stretch of the moors, as well. Ofcourse, he ought to find a lot to do--but he doesn't. Perhaps because mymother does everything. She really is a business woman. "

Collingwood looked out over the area which Nesta had indicated. HarperMallathorpe, he calculated, must be possessed of some three or fourthousand acres. 

"A fine property!" he said. "He's a very fortunate fellow!"

Just then this very fortunate fellow came in. His face, dull enough ashe entered, lighted up at sight of a visitor, and fell again whenCollingwood explained that his visit was a mere flying one, and that hewas returning to London that night. Collingwood led him on to theproject which he had mentioned at his previous visit--the making of golflinks in the park, and pointed out, as a devotee of the sport, what afine course could be made. Before he left he had succeeded in arousinglike interest in Harper--he promised to go into the matter, and toemploy a man whom Collingwood recommended as an expert in laying outgolf courses. 

"You'll have got your greens in something like order by this time nextyear, if you start operations soon, " said Collingwood. "And then, if Isettle down at Barford, I'll come out now and then, if you'll let me. "

"Let you!" exclaimed Harper. "By Jove!--we're only too glad to haveanybody out here--aren't we, Nesta?"

"We shall always be glad to see Mr. Collingwood, " said Nesta. 

Collingwood went away with that last intimation warm in his memory. Hehad an idea that the girl meant what she said--and for a moment he wassorry that he was going to India. He might have settled down at Barfordthere and then, and--but at that he laughed at himself. 

"A young woman with several thousands a year of her own!" he said. "Ofcourse, she'll marry some big pot in the county. They feel a littlelonely, those two, just now, because everything's new to them, andthey're new to their changed circumstances. But when I get back--ah!--Iguess they'll have got plenty of people around them. "

And he determined, being a young man of sense, not to think anymore--for already he had thought a good deal of Nesta Mallathorpe, untilhe returned from his Indian travels. Let him attend to his business, andleave possibilities until they came nearer. 

"All the same. " he mused, as he drew near the town again, "I'm prettysure I shall come back here next spring--I feel like it. "

He called in at Eldrick's office on his way to the hotel, to take somedocuments which had been preparing for him. It was then late in theafternoon, and no one but Pratt was there--Pratt, indeed, had beenwaiting until Collingwood called. 

"Going back to town, Mr. Collingwood?" asked Pratt as he handed over abig envelope. "When shall we have the pleasure of seeing you again, sir?"

Something in the clerk's tone made Collingwood think--he could not tellwhy--that Pratt was fishing for information. And--also for reasons whichhe could not explain--Collingwood had taken a curious dislike to Pratt, and was not inclined to give him any confidence. 

"I don't know, " he answered, a little icily. "I am leaving for Indianext week. "

He bade the clerk a formal farewell and went off, and Pratt locked theoffice door and slowly followed him downstairs. 

"To India!" he said to himself, watching the young barrister'sretreating figure. "To India, eh? For a time--or for--what?"

Anyway, that was good news, Pratt had seen in Collingwood a possiblerival. 

CHAPTER X

THE FOOT-BRIDGE

Collingwood's return to London was made on a Friday evening: next day hebegan the final preparations for his departure to India on the followingThursday. He was looking forward to his journey and his stay in Indiawith keen expectation. He would have the society of a particularlyclever and brilliant man; they were to break their journey in Italy andin Egypt; he would enjoy exceptional facilities for seeing the nativelife of India; he would gain valuable experience. It was a chance atwhich any young man would have jumped, and Collingwood had been greatlyenvied when it was known that Sir John Standridge had offered it to him. And yet he was conscious that if he could have done precisely what hedesired, he would have stayed longer at Barford, in order to see more ofNesta Mallathorpe. Already it seemed a long time to the coming spring, when he would be back--and free to go North again. 

But Collingwood was fated to go North once more much sooner than he haddreamed of. As he sat at breakfast in his rooms on the Monday morningafter his departure from Barford, turning over his newspaper with noparticular aim or interest, his attention was suddenly and sharplyarrested by a headline. Even that headline might not have led him toread what lay beneath. But in the same instant in which he saw it healso saw a name--Mallathorpe. In the next he knew that heavy trouble hadfallen on Normandale Grange, the very day after he had left it. 

This is what Collingwood read as he sat, coffee-cup in one hand, newspaper in the other--staring at the lines of unleaded type:

 TRAGIC FATE OF YOUNG YORKSHIRE SQUIRE

 "A fatal accident, of a particularly sad and disturbing nature, occurred near Barford, Yorkshire, on Saturday. About four o'clock on Saturday afternoon, Mr. Linford Pratt, managing clerk to Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, Solicitors, of Barford, who was crossing the grounds of Normandale Grange on his way to a business appointment, discovered the dead body of Mr. H. J. Mallathorpe, the owner of the Normandale Estate, lying in a roadway which at that point is spanned, forty feet above, by a narrow foot-bridge. The latter is an ancient construction of wood, and there is no doubt that it was in extremely bad repair, and had given way when the unfortunate young gentleman, who was out shooting in his park, stepped upon it. Mr. Mallathorpe, who was only twenty-four years of age, succeeded to the Normandale estates, one of the finest properties in the neighbourhood of Barford, about two years ago, under somewhat romantic--and also tragic--circumstances, their previous owner, his uncle, Mr. John Mallathorpe, a well-known Barford manufacturer, meeting a sudden death by the falling of his mill chimney--a catastrophe which also caused the deaths of several of his employees. Mr. John Mallathorpe died intestate, and the estate at Normandale passed to the young gentleman who met such a sad fate on Saturday afternoon. Mr. H. J. Mallathorpe was unmarried, and it is understood that Normandale (which includes the village of that name, the advowson of the living, and about four thousand acres of land) now becomes the property of his sister, Miss Nesta Mallathorpe. "

Collingwood set down his cup, and dropped the newspaper. He was but halfway through his breakfast, but all his appetite had vanished. All thathe was conscious of was that here was trouble and grief for a girl inwhom--it was useless to deny it--he had already begun to take a warminterest. And suddenly he started from his chair and snatched up arailway guide. As he turned over its pages, he thought rapidly. Thepreparations for his journey to India were almost finished--what was notdone he could do in a few hours. He had no further appointment with SirJohn Standridge until nine o'clock on Thursday morning, when he was tomeet him at the train for Dover and Paris. Monday--Tuesday--Wednesday--hehad three days--ample time to hurry down to Normandale, to do what hecould to help there, and to get back in time to make his own lastarrangements. He glanced at his watch--he had forty minutes in which tocatch an express from King's Cross to Barford. Without further delay hepicked up a suit-case which was already packed and set out for thestation. 

He was in Barford soon after two o'clock--in Eldrick's office byhalf-past two. Eldrick shook his head at sight of him. 

"I can guess what's brought you down, Collingwood, " he said. "Good ofyou, of course--I don't think they've many friends out there. "

"I can scarcely call myself that--yet, " answered Collingwood. "But--Ithought I might be of some use. I'll drive out there presently. Butfirst--how was it?"

Eldrick shook his head. 

"Don't know much more than what the papers say, " he answered. "There'san old foot-bridge there that spans a road in the park--road cut througha ravine. They say it was absolutely rotten, and the poor chap's weightwas evidently too much for it. And there was a drop of forty feet into ahard road. Extraordinary thing that nobody on the estate seems to haveknown of the dangerous condition of that bridge!--but they say it waslittle used--simply a link between one plantation and another. However;--it's done, now. Our clerk--Pratt, you know--found the body. Hadn't been dead five minutes, Pratt says. "

"What was Pratt doing there?" asked Collingwood. 

"Oh, business of his own, " replied Eldrick. "Not ours. There was anadvertisement in Saturday's papers which set out that a steward waswanted for the Normandale estate, and Pratt mentioned it to me in themorning that he thought of applying for the job if we'd give him a goodtestimonial. I suppose he'd gone out there to see about thepreliminaries. Anyway, he was walking through the park when he foundyoung Mallathorpe's body. I understand he made himself very useful, too, and I've sent him out there again today, to do anything he can--smartchap, Pratt!"

"Possibly, then, there is nothing I can do, " remarked Collingwood. 

"I should say you'll do a lot by merely going there, " answered Eldrick. "As I said just now, they've few friends, and no relations, and I hearthat Mrs. Mallathorpe is absolutely knocked over. Go, by all means--abit of sympathy goes a long way on these occasions. I say!--what aregular transformation an affair of this sort produces. Do you know, that young fellow, just like his uncle, had not made any will! Fact!--Ihad it from Robson, their solicitor, this very morning. The whole of theestate comes to the sister, of course--she and the mother will share thepersonal property. By that lad's death, Nesta Mallathorpe becomes one ofthe wealthiest young women in Yorkshire!"

Collingwood made no reply to this communication. But as he drove off toNormandale Grange, it was fresh in his mind. And it was not verypleasant to him. One of the wealthiest young women in Yorkshire!--and hewas already realizing that he would like to make Nesta Mallathorpe hiswife: it was because he felt what he did for her that he had rushed downto do anything he could that would be of help. Supposing--onlysupposing--that people--anybody--said that he was fortune-hunting!Somewhat unduly sensitive, proud, almost to a fault, he felt his cheekredden at the thought, and for a moment he wished that old JohnMallathorpe's wealth had never passed to his niece. But then he sneeredat himself for his presumption. 

"Ass!" he said. "She's never even thought of me--in that way, mostlikely! Anyway, I'm a stupid fool for thinking of these things atpresent. "

But he knew, within a few minutes of entering the big, desolate-lookinghouse, that Nesta had been thinking of him. She came to him in the roomwhere they had first met, and quietly gave him her hand. 

"I was not surprised when they told me you were here, " she said. "I wasthinking about you--or, rather, expecting to hear from you. "

"I came at once, " answered Collingwood, who had kept her hand in his. "I--well, I couldn't stop away. I thought, perhaps, I could dosomething--be of some use. "

"It's a great deal of use to have just--come, " she said. "Thank you!But--I suppose you'll have to go?"

"Not for two days, anyway, " he replied. "What can I do?"

"I don't know that you can actually do anything, " she answered. "Everything is being done. Mr. Eldrick sent his clerk, Mr. Pratt--whofound Harper--he's been most kind and useful. He--and our ownsolicitor--are making all arrangements. There's got to be an inquest. No--I don't know that you can do actual things. But--while you'rehere--you can look in when you like. My mother is very ill--she hasscarcely spoken since Saturday. "

"I'll tell you what I will do, " said Collingwood determinedly. "Inoticed in coming through the village just now that there's quite adecent inn there. I'll go down and arrange to stay there until Wednesdayevening--then I shall be close by--if you should need me. "

He saw by her look of quick appreciation and relief that this suggestionpleased her. She pressed his hand and withdrew her own. "Thank youagain!" she said. "Do you know--I can't quite explain--I should be gladif you were close at hand? Everybody has been very kind--but I do feelthat there is nobody I can talk to. If you arrange this, will you comein again this evening?"

"I shall arrange it, " answered Collingwood. "I'll see to it now. Tellyour people I am to be brought in whenever I call. And--I'll be close bywhenever you want me. "

It seemed little to say, little to do, but he left her feeling that hewas being of some use. And as he went off to make his arrangements atthe inn he encountered Pratt, who was talking to the butler in the outerhall. 

The clerk looked at Collingwood with an unconcern and a composure whichhe was able to assume because he had already heard of his presence inthe house. Inwardly, he was malignantly angry that the young barristerwas there, but his voice was suave, and polite enough when he spoke. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Collingwood, " he said quietly. "Very sad occasionon which we meet again, sir. Come to offer your sympathy, Mr. Collingwood, of course--very kind of you. "

"I came, " answered Collingwood, who was not inclined to bandy phraseswith Pratt, "to see if I could be of any practical use. "

"Just so, sir, " said Pratt. "Mr. Eldrick sent me here for the samepurpose. There's really not much to do--beyond the necessaryarrangements, which are already pretty forward. Going back to town, sir?" he went on, following Collingwood out to his motor-car, whichstood waiting in the drive. 

"No!" replied Collingwood. "I'm going to send this man to Barford tofetch my bag to the inn down there in the village, where I'm going tostay for a few days. Did you hear that?" he continued, turning to thedriver. "Go back to Barford--get my bag from the _Station Hotel_there--bring it to the _Normandale Arms_--I'll meet you there on yourreturn. "

The car went off, and Collingwood, with a nod to Pratt, was about toturn down a side path towards the village. But Pratt stopped him. 

"Would you care to see the place where the accident happened, Mr. Collingwood?" he said. "It's close by--won't take five minutes. "

Collingwood hesitated a moment; then he turned back. It might be well, he reflected, if he made himself acquainted with all the circumstancesof this case, simple as they seemed. 

"Thank you, " he said. "If it's so near. "

"This way, sir, " responded Pratt. He led his companion along the frontof the house, through the shrubberies at the end of a wing, and into aplantation by a path thickly covered with pine needles. Presently theyemerged upon a similar track, at right angles to that by which they hadcome, and leading into a denser part of the woods. And at the end of ahundred yards of it they came to a barricade, evidently of recentconstruction, over which Pratt stretched a hand. "There!" he said. "That's the bridge, sir. " Collingwood looked over the barricade. He sawthat he and Pratt were standing at the edge of one thick plantation offir and pine; the edge of a similar plantation stretched before themsome ten yards away. But between the two lay a deep, dark ravine, which, immediately in front of the temporary barricade, was spanned by a narrowrustic bridge--a fragile-looking thing of planks, railed in by boughs oftrees. And in the middle was a jagged gap in both floor and side-rails, showing where the rotten wood had given way. 

"I'll explain, Mr. Collingwood, " said the clerk presently. "I knew thispark, sir--I knew it well, before the late Mr. John Mallathorpe boughtthe property. That path at the other end of the bridge makes a short cutdown to the station in the valley--through the woods and the lower partof the park. I came up that path, from the station, on Saturdayafternoon, intending to cross this bridge and go on to the house, whereI had private business. When I got to the other end of the bridge, there, I saw the gap in the middle. And then I looked down into thecut--there's a road--a paved road--down there, and I saw--him! And so Imade shift to scramble down--stiff job it was!--to get to him. But hewas dead, Mr. Collingwood--stone dead, sir!--though I'm certain hehadn't been dead five minutes. And----"

"Aye, an' he'd never ha' been dead at all, wouldn't young Squire, ifonly his ma had listened to what I telled her!" interrupted a voicebehind them. "He'd ha' been alive at this minute, he would, if his mahad done what I said owt to be done--now then!"

Collingwood turned sharply--to confront an old man, evidently one of thewoodmen on the estate who had come up behind them unheard on the thickcarpeting of pine needles. And Pratt turned, too--with a keen look and adirect question. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I know what I'm talking about, young gentleman, " said the man doggedly. "I ain't worked, lad and man, on this one estate nine-and-fortyyears--and happen more--wi'out knowin' all about it. I tell'd Mrs. Mallathorpe on Friday noon 'at that there owd brig 'ud fall in aforelong if it worn't mended. I met her here, at this very place where we'restandin', and I showed her 'at it worn't safe to cross it. I tell'd her't she owt to have it fastened up theer an' then. It's been rottin' formany a year, has this owd brig--why, I mind when it wor last repaired, and that wor years afore owd Mestur Mallathorpe bowt this estate!"

"When do you say you told Mrs. Mallathorpe all that?" asked Pratt. 

"Friday noon it were, sir, " answered the woodman. "When I were on my wayhome--dinner time. 'Cause I met the missis here, and I made bold to tellher what I'd noticed. That there owd brig!--lor' bless yer, gentlemen!it were black rotten i' the middle, theer where poor young maister hefell through it. 'Ye mun hev' that seen to at once, missis, ' I says. 'Sartin sure, 'tain't often as it's used, ' I says, 'but surely sartin'at if it ain't mended, or closed altogether, ' I says, 'summun 'll begoing through and brekkin' their necks, ' I says. An' reight, too, gentlemen--forty feet it is down to that road. An' a mortal hard road, an' all, paved wi' granite stone all t' way to t' stable-yard. "

"You're sure it was Friday noon?" repeated Pratt. 

"As sure as that I see you, " answered the woodman. "An' Mrs. Mallathorpeshe said she'd hev it seen to. Dear-a-me!--it should ha' been closed!"

The old man shook his head and went off amongst the trees, and Pratt, giving his vanishing figure a queer look, turned silently back along thepath, followed by Collingwood. At the point where the other path led tothe house, he glanced over his shoulder at the young barrister. 

"If you keep straight on, Mr. Collingwood, " he said, "you'll getstraight down to the village and the inn. I must go this way. "

He went off rapidly, and Collingwood walked on through the plantationtowards the _Normandale Arms_--wondering, all the way, why Pratt was soanxious to know exactly when it was that Mrs. Mallathorpe had beenwarned about the old bridge. 

CHAPTER XI

THE PREVALENT ATMOSPHERE

Until that afternoon Collingwood had never been in the village to whichhe was now bending his steps; on that and his previous visits to theGrange he had only passed the end of its one street. Now, descendinginto it from the slopes of the park, he found it to be little more thana hamlet--a church, a farmstead or two, a few cottages in their gardens, all clustering about a narrow stream spanned by a high-arched bridge ofstone. The _Normandale Arms_, a roomy, old-fashioned place, stood at oneend of the bridge, and from the windows of the room into whichCollingwood was presently shown he could look out on the stream itselfand on the meadows beyond it. A peaceful, pretty, quiet place--but thegloom which was heavy at the big house or the hill seemed to have spreadto everybody that he encountered. 

"Bad job, this, sir!" said the landlord, an elderly, serious-faced man, to whom Collingwood had made known his wants, and who had quickly formedthe opinion that his guest was of the legal profession. "And a queerone, too! Odd thing, sir, that our old squire, and now the young one, should both have met their deaths in what you might term violentfashion. "

"Accident--in both cases, " remarked Collingwood. 

The landlord nodded his head--and then shook it in a manner which seemedto indicate that while he agreed with this proposition in one respect heentertained some sort of doubt about it in others. 

"Ay, well!" he answered. "Of course, a mill chimney falling, withoutnotice, as it were, and a bridge giving way--them's accidents, to besure. But it's a very strange thing about this foot-bridge, up yonder atthe Grange--very strange indeed! There's queer talk about it, already. "

"What sort of talk?" asked Collingwood. Ever since the old woodman hadcome up to him and Pratt, as they stood looking at the foot-bridge, hehad been aware of a curious sense of mystery, and the landlord's remarktended to deepen it. "What are people talking about?"

"Nay--it's only one or two, " replied the landlord. "There's been two menin here since the affair happened that crossed that bridge Fridayafternoon--and both of 'em big, heavy men. According to what one canlearn that there bridge wasn't used much by the Grange people--it led tonowhere in particular for them. But there is a right of way across thatpart of the park, and these two men as I'm speaking of--they made use ofit on Friday--getting towards dark. I know 'em well--they'd both of 'emweigh four times as much--together--as young Squire Mallathorpe, and yetit didn't give way under them. And then--only a few hours later, as youmight say, down it goes with him!"

"I don't think you can form any opinion from that!" said Collingwood. "These things, these old structures, often give way quite suddenly andunexpectedly. "

"Ay, well, they did admit, these men too, that it seemed a bit tottery, like, " remarked the landlord. "Talking it over, between themselves, inhere, they agreed, to be sure, that it felt to give a bit. All the same, there's them as says that it's a queer thing it should ha' givenaltogether when young squire walked on it. "

Collingwood clinched matters with a straight question. 

"You don't mean to say that people are suggesting that the foot-bridgehad been tampered with?" he asked. 

"There is them about as wouldn't be slow to say as much, " answered thelandlord. "Folks will talk! You see, sir--nobody saw what happened. Andwhen country folk doesn't see what takes place, with their own eyes, then they----"

"Make mysteries out of it, " interrupted Collingwood, a littleimpatiently. "I don't think there's any mystery here, landlord--Iunderstood that this foot-bridge was in a very unsafe condition. No! I'mafraid the whole affair was only too simple. "

But he was conscious, as he said this, that he was not precisely voicinghis own sentiments. He himself was mystified. He was still wondering whyPratt had been so pertinacious in asking the old woodman when, precisely, he had told Mrs. Mallathorpe about the unsafe condition ofthe bridge--still wondering about a certain expression which had comeinto Pratt's face when the old man told them what he did--stillwondering at the queer look which Pratt had given the information as hewent off into the plantation. Was there, then, something--some secretwhich was being kept back by--somebody?

He was still pondering over these things when he went back to theGrange, later in the evening--but he was resolved not to say anythingabout them to Nesta. And he saw Nesta only for a few minutes. Hermother, she said, was very ill indeed--the doctor was with her then, andshe must go back to them. Since her son's death, Mrs. Mallathorpe hadscarcely spoken, and the doctor, knowing that her heart was not strong, was somewhat afraid of a collapse. 

"If there is anything that I can do, --or if you should want me, duringthe night, " said Collingwood, earnestly, "promise me that you'll send atonce to the inn!"

"Yes, " answered Nesta. "I will. But--I don't think there will be anyneed. We have two nurses here, and the doctor will stop. There issomething I should be glad if you would do tomorrow, " she went on, looking at him a little wistfully, "You know about--the inquest?"

"Yes, " said Collingwood. 

"They say we--that is I, because, of course, my mother couldn't--that Ineed not be present, " she continued. "Mr. Robson--our solicitor--says itwill be a very short, formal affair. He will be there, ofcourse, --but--would you mind being there, too!--so that youcan--afterwards--tell me all about it?"

"Will you tell me something--straight out?" answered Collingwood, looking intently at her. "Have you any doubt of any description aboutthe accepted story of your brother's death? Be plain with me!"

Nesta hesitated for awhile before answering. 

"Not of the actual circumstances, " she replied at last, --"none at all ofwhat you call the accepted story. The fact is, I'm not a good hand atexplaining anything, and perhaps I can't convey to you what I mean. ButI've a feeling--an impression--that there is--or was some mystery onSaturday which might have--and might not have--oh, I can't make itclear, even to myself. 

"If you would be at the inquest tomorrow, and listen carefully toeverything--and then tell me afterwards--do you understand?"

"I understand, " answered Collingwood. "Leave it to me. "

Whether he expected to hear anything unusual at the inquest, whether hethought any stray word, hint, or suggestion would come up during theproceedings, Collingwood was no more aware than Nesta was certain of hervague ideas. But he was very soon assured that there was going to benothing beyond brevity and formality. He had never previously beenpresent at an inquest--his legal mind was somewhat astonished at the wayin which things were done. It was quickly evident to him that the twelvegood men and true of the jury--most of them cottagers and labourersliving on the estate--were quite content to abide by the directions ofthe coroner, a Barford solicitor, whose one idea seemed to be to getthrough the proceedings as rapidly and smoothly as possible. AndCollingwood felt bound to admit that, taking the evidence as it wasbrought forward, no simpler or more straightforward cause ofinvestigation could be adduced. It was all very simple indeed--as itappeared there and then. 

The butler, a solemn-faced, respectable type of the old familyserving-man, spoke as to his identification of the dead master's body, and gave his evidence in a few sentences. Mr. Mallathorpe, he said, hadgone out of the front door of the Grange at half-past two on Saturdayafternoon, carrying a gun, and had turned into the road leading towardsthe South Shrubbery. At about three o'clock Mr. Pratt had come runningup the drive to the house, and told him and Miss Mallathorpe that he hadjust found Mr. Mallathorpe lying dead in the sunken cut between theSouth and North Shrubbery. Nobody had any question to ask the butler. Nor were any questions asked of Pratt--the one really important witness. 

Pratt gave his evidence tersely and admirably. On Saturday morning hehad seen an advertisement in the Barford newspapers which stated that asteward and agent was wanted for the Normandale Estate, and allapplications were to be made to Mrs. Mallathorpe. Desirous of applyingfor the post, he had written out a formal letter during Saturdaymorning, had obtained a testimonial from his present employers, Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, and, anxious to present his application as soon aspossible, had decided to take it to Normandale Grange himself, thatafternoon. He had left Barford by the two o'clock train, which arrivedat Normandale at two-thirty-five. Knowing the district well, he hadtaken the path through the plantations. Arrived at the foot-bridge, hehad at once noticed that part of it had fallen in. Looking into thecutting, he had seen a man lying in the roadway beneath--motionless. Hehad scrambled down the side of the cutting, discovered that the man wasMr. Harper Mallathorpe, and that he was dead, and had immediatelyhurried up the road to the house, where he had informed the last witnessand Miss Mallathorpe. 

A quite plain story, evidently thought everybody--no questions needed. Nor were there any questions needed in the case of the only otherwitnesses--the estate carpenter who said that the foot-bridge was veryold, but that he had not been aware that it was in quite so bad acondition, and who gave it as his opinion that the recent heavy rainshad had something to do with the matter; and the doctor who testifiedthat the victim had suffered injuries which would produce absolutelyinstantaneous death. A clear case--nothing could be clearer, said thecoroner to his obedient jury, who presently returned the onlyverdict--one of accidental death--which, on the evidence, was possible. 

Collingwood heard no comments on the inquest from those who werepresent. But that evening, as he sat in his parlour at the _NormandaleArms_, the landlord, coming in on pretence of attending to the fire, approached him with an air of mystery and jerked his thumb in thedirection of the regions which he had just quitted. 

"You remember what we were talking of this afternoon when you come in, sir?" he whispered. "There's some of 'em--regular nightly customers, village folk, you understand--talking of the same thing now, and of thishere inquest. And if you'd like to hear a bit of what you may call localopinion--and especially one man's--I'll put you where you can hear it, without being seen. It's worth hearing, anyway. "

Collingwood, curious to know what the village wiseacres had to say, rose, and followed the landlord into a small room at the back of thebar-parlour. 

An open hatchment in the wall, covered by a thin curtain, allowed him tohear every word which came from what appeared to be a full company. Butit was quickly evident that in that company there was one man who eitherwas, or wished to be dictator and artifex--a man of loud voice anddomineering tone, who was laying down the law to the accompaniment ofvigorous thumpings of the table at which he sat. "What I say is--and Isay it agen---I reckon nowt at all o' crowners' quests!" he wasaffirming, as Collingwood and his guide drew near the curtained opening. "What is a crowner's quest, anyway? It's nowt but formality--all formand show--it means nowt. All them 'at sits on t' jury does and says justwhat t' crowner tells 'em to say and do. They nivver ax no questions outo' their own mouths--they're as dumb as sheep--that's what yon jury worthis mornin'--now then!"

"That's James Stringer, the blacksmith, " whispered the landlord, comingclose to Collingwood's elbow. "He thinks he knows everything!"

"And pray, what would you ha' done, Mestur Stringer, if you'd been onyon jury?" inquired a milder voice. "I suppose ye'd ha' wanted to know abit more, what?" "Mestur Stringer 'ud ha' wanted to know a deal more, "observed another voice. "He would do!"

"There's a many things I want to know, " continued the blacksmith, with astout thump of the table. "They all tak' it for granted 'at young squirewalked on to yon bridge, an' 'at it theer and then fell to pieces. Whosee'd it fall to pieces? Who was theer to see what did happen?"

"What else did happen or could happen nor what were testified to?" askeda new voice. "Theer wor what they call circumstantial evidence to showhow all t' affair happened!"

"Circumstantial evidence be blowed!" sneered the blacksmith heartily. "Ireckon nowt o' circumstantial evidence! Look ye here! How do youknow--how does anybody know 'at t' young squire worn't thrown off thatbridge, and 'at t' bridge collapsed when he wor thrown? He might ha' metsomebody on t' bridge, and quarrelled wi' 'em, and whoivver it wor mightha' been t' strongest man, and flung him into t' road beneath!"

"Aye, but i' that case t' other feller--t' assailant--'ud ha' fallen wi'him, " objected somebody. 

"Nowt o' t' sort!" retorted the blacksmith. "He'd be safe on t' soundpart o' t' bridge--it's only a piece on 't that gave way. I say thattheer idea wants in-quirin' into. An' theer's another thing--what worthat lawyer-clerk chap fro' Barford--Pratt--doin' about theer? Whatreight had he to be prowlin' round t' neighbourhood o' that bridge, andat that time? Come, now!--theer's a tickler for somebody. "

"He telled that, " exclaimed several voices. "He had business i' t'place. He had some papers to 'liver. "

"Then why didn't he go t' nearest way to t' house t' 'liver 'em?"demanded Stringer. "T' shortest way to t' house fro' t' railway stationis straight up t' carriage drive--not through them plantations. I axagen--what wor that feller doin' theer? It's important. "

"Why, ye don't suspect him of owt, do yer, Mestur Stringer?" askedsomebody. "A respectable young feller like that theer--come!"

"I'm sayin' nowt about suspectin' nobody!" vociferated the blacksmith. "I'm doin' nowt but puttin' a case, as t' lawyers 'ud term it. I say 'attheer's a lot o' things 'at owt to ha' comed out. I'll tell ye one on'em--how is it 'at nowt--not a single word--wor said at yon inquestabout Mrs. Mallathorpe and t' affair? Not one word!"

A sudden silence fell on the company, and the landlord tappedCollingwood's arm and took the liberty of winking at him. 

"Why, " inquired somebody, at last, "what about Mrs. Mallathorpe and t'affair? What had she to do wi' t' affair?"

The blacksmith's voice became judicial in its solemnity. 

"Ye listen to me!" he said with emphasis. "I know what I'm talkingabout. Ye know what came out at t' inquest. When this here Pratt ran totell t' news at t' house he returned to what they term t' fatal spot i'company wi' t' butler, and a couple of footmen, and Dan Scholes, one o't' grooms. Now theer worn't a word said at t' inquest about what thatlot--five on em, mind yer--found when they reached t' dead corpse--notone word! But I know--Dan Scholes tell'd me!"

"What did they find, then, Mestur Stringer?" asked an eager member ofthe assemblage. "What wor it?"

The blacksmith's voice sank to a mysterious whisper. 

"I'll tell yer!" he replied. "They found Mrs. Mallathorpe, lyin' i' adead faint--close by! And they say 'at she's nivver done nowt but go outo' one faint into another, ivver since. So, of course, she's nivver beenable to tell if she saw owt or knew owt! And what I say is, " heconcluded, with a heavy thump of the table, "that theer crowner's questowt to ha' been what they term adjourned, until Mrs. Mallathorpe couldtell if she did see owt, or if she knew owt, or heer'd owt! She mun ha'been close by--or else they wo'dn't ha' found her lyin' theer aside o't' corpse. What did she see? What did she hear? Does she know owt? Itell ye 'at theer's questions 'at wants answerin'--and theer's troubleahead for somebody if they aren't answered--now then!"

Collingwood went away from his retreat, beckoning the landlord tofollow. In the parlour he turned to him. 

"Have you heard anything of what Stringer said just now?" he asked. "Imean--about Mrs. Mallathorpe?"

"Heard just the same--and from the same chap, Scholes, the groom, sir, "replied the landlord. "Oh, yes! Of course, people will wonder why theydidn't get some evidence from Mrs. Mallathorpe--just as Stringer says. "

Collingwood sat a long time that night, thinking over the things he hadheard. He came to the conclusion that the domineering blacksmith wasright in one of his dogmatic assertions--there was trouble ahead. Andnext morning, before going up to the Grange, he went to the nearesttelegraph office, and sent Sir John Standridge a lengthy message inwhich he resigned the appointment that would have taken him to India. 

CHAPTER XII

THE POWER OF ATTORNEY

Collingwood had many things to think over as he walked across NormandalePark that morning. He had deliberately given up his Indian appointmentfor Nesta's sake, so that he might be near her in case the trouble whichhe feared arose suddenly. But it was too soon yet to let her know thatshe was the cause of his altered arrangements--in any case, that was notthe time to tell her that it was on her account that he had alteredthem. 

He must make some plausible excuse: then he must settle down in Barford, according to Eldrick's suggestion. He would then be near at hand--and ifthe trouble, whatever it might be, took tangible form, he would be ableto help. But he was still utterly in the dark as to what that possibletrouble might be--yet, of one thing he felt convinced--it would havesome connection with Pratt. 

He remembered, as he walked along, that he had formed some queer, uneasysuspicion about Pratt when he first hurried down to Barford on hearingof Antony Bartle's death: that feeling, subsequently allayed to someextent, had been revived. There might be nothing in it, he said tohimself, over and over again; everything that seemed strange might beeasily explained; the evidence of Pratt at the inquest had appearedabsolutely truthful and straightforward, and yet the blunt, rough, downright question of the blacksmith, crudely voiced as it was, found aready agreement in Collingwood's mind. As he drew near the house hefound himself repeating Stringer's broad Yorkshire--"What wor thatlawyer-clerk chap fro' Barford--Pratt--doin' about theer? What reighthad he to be prowlin' round t' neighbourhood o' that bridge, and at thattime? Come, now--theer's a tickler for somebody!" And even as he smiledat the remembrance of the whole rustic conversation of the previousevening, and thought that the blacksmith's question certainly might be aticklish one--for somebody--he looked up from the frosted grass at hisfeet, and saw Pratt. 

Pratt, a professional-looking bag in his hand, a morning newspaper underthe other arm, was standing at the gate of one of the numerousshrubberies which flanked the Grange, talking to a woman who leaned overit. Collingwood recognized her as a person whom he had twice seen in thehouse during his visits on the day before---a middle-aged, slightlybuilt woman, neatly dressed in black, and wearing a sort of nurse's capwhich seemed to denote some degree of domestic servitude. She was awoman who had once been pretty, and who still retained much of her goodlooks; she was also evidently of considerable shrewdness andintelligence and possessed a pair of remarkably quick eyes--the sort ofeyes, thought Collingwood, that see everything that happens within theirrange of vision. And she had a firm chin and a mouth which expresseddetermination; he had seen all that as she exchanged some conversationwith the old butler in Collingwood's presence--a noticeable womanaltogether. She was evidently in close conference with Pratt at thatmoment--but as Collingwood drew near she turned and went slowly in thedirection of the house, while Pratt, always outwardly polite, steppedtowards the interrupter of this meeting, and lifted his hat. 

"Good morning, Mr. Collingwood, " he said. "A fine, sharp morning, sir! Iwas just asking Mrs. Mallathorpe's maid how her mistress is thismorning--she was very ill when I left last night. Better, sir, I'm gladto say--Mrs. Mallathorpe has had a much better night. "

"I'm very pleased to hear it, " replied Collingwood. He was going towardsthe front of the Grange, and Pratt walked at his side, evidently in thesame direction. "I am afraid she has had a great shock. You are stillhere, then?" he went on, feeling bound to make some remark, and sayingthe first obvious thing. "Still busy?"

"Mr. Eldrick has lent me--so to speak--until the funeral's over, tomorrow, " answered Pratt. "There are a lot of little things in which Ican be useful, you know, Mr. Collingwood. I suppose yourarrangements--you said you were sailing for India--won't permit of yourbeing present tomorrow, sir?"

Collingwood was not sure if the clerk was fishing for information. Pratt's manner was always polite, his questions so innocently put, thatit was difficult to know what he was actually after. But he was notgoing to give him any information--either then, or at any time. 

"I don't quite know what my arrangements may be, " he answered. And justthen they came to the front entrance, and Collingwood was taken off inone direction by a footman, while Pratt, who already seemed to be fullyacquainted with the house and its arrangements, took himself and his bagaway in another. 

Nesta came to Collingwood looking less anxious than when he had left herat his last call the night before. He had already told her what hisimpressions of the inquest were, and he was now wondering whether totell her of the things he had heard said at the village inn. Butremembering that he was now going to stay in the neighbourhood, hedecided to say nothing at that time--if there was anything in thesevague feelings and suspicions it would come out, and could be dealt withwhen it arose. At present he had need of a little diplomacy. 

"Oh!--I wanted to tell you, " he said, after talking to her awhile aboutMrs. Mallathorpe. "I--there's a change in my arrangements, I'm not goingto India, after all. "

He was not prepared for the sudden flush that came over the girl's face. It took him aback. It also told him a good deal that he was glad toknow--and it was only by a strong effort of will that he kept himselffrom taking her hands and telling her the truth. But he affected not tosee anything, and he went on talking rapidly. "Complete change in thearrangements at the last minute, " he said. "I've just been writing aboutit. So--as that's off, I think I shall follow Eldrick's advice, and takechambers in Barford for a time, and see how things turn out. I'm goinginto Barford now, to see Eldrick about all that. "

Nesta, who was conscious of her betrayal of more than she cared to showjust then, tried to speak calmly. 

"But--isn't it an awful disappointment?" she said. "You were lookingforward so to going there, weren't you?"

"Can't be helped, " replied Collingwood. "All these affairsare--provisional. I thought I'd tell you at once, however--so thatyou'll know--if you ever want me--that I shall be somewhere round about. In fact, as it's quite comfortable there, I shall stop at the inn untilI've got rooms in the town. "

Then, not trusting himself to remain longer, he went off to Barford, certain that he was now definitely pledged in his own mind to NestaMallathorpe, and not much less that when the right time came she wouldnot be irresponsive to him. And on that, like a cold douche, came theremembrance of her actual circumstances--she was what Eldrick had said, one of the wealthiest young women in Yorkshire. The thought of herriches made Collingwood melancholy for a while--he possessed a curioussort of pride which made him hate and loathe the notion of being takenfor a fortune-hunter. But suddenly, and with a laugh, he remembered thathe had certain possessions of his own--ability, knowledge, andperseverance. Before he reached Eldrick's office, he had had a vision ofthe Woolsack. 

Eldrick received Collingwood's news with evident gratification. Heimmediately suggested certain chambers in an adjacent building; hevolunteered information as to where the best rooms in the town were tobe had. And in proof of his practical interest in Collingwood's career, he there and then engaged his professional services for two cases whichwere to be heard at a local court within the following week. 

"Pratt shall deliver the papers to you at once, " he said. "That is, assoon as he's back from Normandale this afternoon. I sent him there againto make himself useful. "

"I saw him this morning, " remarked Collingwood. "He appears to be a veryuseful person. "

"Clever chap, " asserted Eldrick, carelessly. "I don't know what'll bedone about that stewardship that he was going to apply for. Everythingwill be altered now that young Mallathorpe's dead. Of course, I, personally, shouldn't have thought that Pratt would have done for a joblike that, but Pratt has enough self-assurance and self-confidence for adozen men, and he thought he would do, and I couldn't refuse him atestimonial. And as he's made himself very useful out there, it may bethat if this steward business goes forward, Pratt will get theappointment. As I say, he's a smart chap. "

Collingwood offered no comment. But he was conscious that it would notbe at all pleasing to him to know that Linford Pratt held any officialposition at Normandale. Foolish as it might be, mere inspiration thoughit probably was, he could not get over his impression that Eldrick'sclerk was not precisely trustworthy. And yet, he reflected, he himselfcould do nothing--it would be utter presumption on his part to offer anygratuitous advice to Nesta Mallathorpe in business matters. He was verycertain of what he eventually meant to say to her about his own personalhopes, some time hence, when all the present trouble was over, but inthe meantime, as regarded anything else, he could only wait and watch, and be of service to her if she asked him to render any. 

Some time went by before Collingwood was asked to render service of anysort. At Normandale Grange, events progressed in apparently ordinary andnormal fashion. Harper Mallathorpe was buried; his mother began to makesome recovery from the shock of his death; the legal folk were busied inputting Nesta in possession of the estate, and herself and her mother inproprietorship of the mill and the personal property. In Barford, thingswent on as usual, too. Pratt continued his round of duties at Eldrick &Pascoe's; no more was heard--by outsiders, at any rate--of thestewardship at Normandale. As for Collingwood, he settled down inchambers and lodgings and, as Eldrick had predicted, found plenty ofwork. And he constantly went out to Normandale Grange, and often metNesta elsewhere, and their knowledge of each other increased, and as thewinter passed away and spring began to show on the Normandale woods andmoors, Collingwood felt that the time was coming when he might speak. Hewas professionally engaged in London for nearly three weeks in the earlypart of that spring--when he returned, he had made up his mind to tellNesta the truth, at once. He had faced it for himself--he was by thattime so much in love with her that he was not going to let monetaryconsiderations prevent him from telling her so. 

But Collingwood found something else than love to talk about when hepresented himself at Normandale Grange on the morning after his arrivalfrom his three weeks' absence in town. As soon as he met her, he sawthat Nesta was not only upset and troubled, but angry. 

"I am glad you have come, " she said, when they were alone. "I want someadvice. Something has happened--something that bothers--and puzzles--mevery, very much! I'm dreadfully bothered. "

"Tell me, " suggested Collingwood. 

Nesta frowned--at some recollection or thought. 

"Yesterday afternoon, " she answered, "I was obliged to go into Barford, on business. I left my mother fairly well---she has been recovering fastlately, and she only has one nurse now. Unfortunately, she, too, was outfor the afternoon. I came back to find my mother ill and muchupset---and there's no use denying it--she'd all the symptoms of havingbeen--well, frightened. I can't think of any other term thanthat--frightened. And then I learned that, in my absence, Mr. Eldrick'sclerk, Mr. Pratt--you know him--had been here, and had been with her forquite an hour. I am furiously angry!"

Collingwood had expected this announcement as soon as she began toexplain. So--the trouble was beginning!

"How came Pratt to be admitted to your mother?" he asked. 

"That makes me angry, too, " answered Nesta. "Though I confess I ought tobe angry with myself for not giving stricter orders. I left the houseabout two--he came about three, and asked to see my mother's maid, Esther Mawson. He told her that it was absolutely necessary for him tosee my mother on business, and she told my mother he was there. Mymother consented to see him--and he was taken up. And as I say, I foundher ill--and frightened--and that's not the worst of it!"

"What is the worst of it?" asked Collingwood, anxiously. "Better tellme!--I may be able to do something. "

"The worst of it, " she said, "is just this--my mother won't tell me whatthat man came about! She flatly refuses to tell me anything! She willonly say that it was business of her own. She won't trust me with it, you see!--her own daughter! What business can that man have withher?--or she with him? Eldrick & Pascoe are not our solicitors! There'ssome secret and----"

"Will you answer one or two questions?" said Collingwood quietly. He hadnever seen Nesta angry before, and he now realized that she had certainpossibilities of temper and determination which would be formidable whenroused. "First of all, is that maid you speak of, Esther Mawson, reliable?"

"I don't know!" answered Nesta. "My mother has had her two years--she'sa Barford woman. Sometimes I think she's sly and cunning. But I've givenher such strict orders now that she'll never dare to let any one see mymother again without my consent. "

"The other question's this, " said Collingwood. "Have you any idea, anysuspicion of why Pratt wanted to see your mother?"

"Not unless it was about that stewardship, " replied Nesta. "But--howcould that frighten her? Besides, all that's over. Normandale ismine!--and if I have a steward, or an estate agent, I shall see to theappointment myself. No!--I do not know why he should have come here!But--there's some mystery. The curious thing is----"

"What?" asked Collingwood, as she paused. 

"Why, " she said, shaking her head wonderingly, "that I'm absolutelycertain that my mother never even knew this man Pratt--I don't I thinkshe even knew his name--until quite recently. I know when she got toknow him, too. It was just about the time that you first called here--atthe time of Mr. Bartle's death. Our butler told me this morning thatPratt came here late one evening--just about that time!--and asked tosee my mother, and was with her for some time in the study. Oh! what isit all about?--and why doesn't she tell me?"

Collingwood stood silently staring out of the window. At the time ofAntony Bartle's death? An evening visit?--evidently of a secret nature. And why paid to Mrs. Mallathorpe at that particular time? He suddenlyturned to Nesta. 

"What do you wish me to do?" he asked. 

"Will you speak to Mr. Eldrick?" she said. "Tell him that his clerk mustnot call upon, or attempt to see, my mother. I will not have it!"

Collingwood went off to Barford, and straight to Eldrick's office. Henoticed as he passed through the outer rooms that Pratt was not in hisaccustomed place--as a rule, it was impossible to get at either Eldrickor Pascoe without first seeing Pratt. 

"Hullo!" said Eldrick. "Just got in from town? That's lucky--I've got abig case for you. "

"I got in last night, " replied Collingwood. "But I went out toNormandale first thing this morning: I've just come back from there. Isay, Eldrick, here's an unpleasant matter to tell you of"; and he toldthe solicitor all that Nesta had just told him, and also of Pratt'svisit to Mrs. Mallathorpe about the time of Antony Bartle's death. "Whatever it is, " he concluded sternly, "it's got to stop! If you've anyinfluence over your clerk----"

Eldrick made a grimace and waved his hand. 

"He's our clerk no longer!" he said. "He left us the week after you wentup to town, Collingwood. He was only a weekly servant, and he tookadvantage of that to give me a week's notice. Now, what game is MasterPratt playing? He's smart, and he's deep, too. He----"

Just then an office-boy announced Mr. Robson, the Mallathorpe familysolicitor, a bustling, rather rough-and-ready type of man, who came intoEldrick's room looking not only angry but astonished. He nodded toCollingwood, and flung himself into a chair at the side of Eldrick'sdesk. 

"Look here, Eldrick!" he exclaimed. "What on earth has that clerk ofyours, Pratt, got to do with Mrs. Mallathorpe? Do you know what Mrs. Mallathorpe has done? Hang it, she must be out of her senses, --or--orthere's something I can't fathom. She's given your clerk, Linford Pratt, a power of attorney to deal with all her affairs and all her property!Oh, it's all right, I tell you! Pratt's been to my office, and exhibitedit to me as if--as if he were the Lord Chancellor!"

Eldrick turned to Collingwood, and Collingwood to Eldrick--and then bothturned to Robson. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE FIRST TRICK

The Mallathorpe family solicitor shook his head impatiently under thosequestioning glances. 

"It's not a bit of use appealing to me to know what it means!" heexclaimed. "I know no more than what I've told you. That chap walkedinto my office as bold as brass, half an hour ago, and exhibited to me apower of attorney, all duly drawn up and stamped, executed in his favourby Mrs. Mallathorpe yesterday. And as Mrs. Mallathorpe is, as far as Iknow, in her senses, --why--there you are!"

"What is it?" asked Eldrick. "A general power? Or a special?"

"General!" answered Robson, with an air of disgust. "Authorizes him toact for her in all business matters. It means, of course, that thatfellow now has full control over--why, a tremendous amount of money! Theestate, of course, is Miss Mallathorpe's--he can't interfere with that. But Mrs. Mallathorpe shares equally with her daughter as regards thepersonal property of Harper Mallathorpe--his share in the business, andall that he left, and what's more, Mrs. Mallathorpe is administratrix ofthe personal property. She's simply placed in Pratt's hands an enormouspower! And--for what reason? Who on earth is Pratt--what right, title, age, or qualification, has he to be entrusted with such a big affair? Inever knew of such a business in the whole course of my professionalexperiences!"

"Nor I!" agreed Eldrick. "But there's one thing in which you'remistaken, Robson. You ask what qualification Pratt has for a post ofthat sort? Pratt's a very smart, clever, managing chap!"

"Oh, of course! He's your clerk!" retorted Robson, a little sneeringly. "Naturally, you've a big idea of his abilities. But----"

"He's not our clerk any longer, " said Eldrick. "He left us about a weekago. I heard this morning that he's set up an office in MarketStreet--in the Atlas Building--and I wondered for what purpose. "

"Purpose of fleecing Mrs. Mallathorpe, I should say!" grumbled Robson. "Of course, everything of hers must pass through his hands. What onearth can her daughter have been thinking of to allow----"

"Stop a bit!" interrupted Eldrick. "Collingwood came in to tell me aboutthat--he's just come from Normandale Grange. Miss Mallathorpe complainsthat Pratt called there yesterday in her absence. That's probably whenthis power of attorney was signed. But Miss Mallathorpe doesn't knowanything of it--she insists that Pratt shall not visit her mother. "

Robson stirred impatiently in his chair. 

"That's all bosh!" he said. "She can't prevent it. I saw Mrs. Mallathorpe myself three days ago--she's recovering very well, and she'sin her right senses, and she's capable of doing business. Her daughtercan't prevent her from doing anything she likes! And if she did what sheliked yesterday when she signed that document--why, everybody'spowerless--except Pratt. "

"There's the question of how the document was obtained, " remarkedCollingwood. "There may have been undue influence. "

The two solicitors looked at each other. Then Eldrick rose from hischair. "I'll tell you what I'll do, " he said. "It's no affair of mine, but we employed Pratt for years, and he'll confide in me. I'll go andsee him, and ask him what it's all about. Wait here a while, you two. "

He went out of his office and across into Market Street, where the AtlasBuilding, a modern range of offices and chambers, towered above theolder structures at its foot. In the entrance hall a man was gilding thename of a new tenant on the address board--that name was Pratt's, andEldrick presently found himself ascending in the lift to Pratt'squarters on the fifth floor. Within five minutes of leaving Collingwoodand Robson, he was closeted with Pratt in a well-furnished and appointedlittle office of two rooms, the inner one of which was almost luxuriousin its fittings. And Pratt himself looked extremely well satisfied, andconfident--and quite at his ease. He wheeled forward an easy chair forhis visitor, and pushed a box of cigarettes towards him. 

"Glad to see you, Mr. Eldrick, " he said, with a cordial politeness whichsuggested, however, somehow, that he and the solicitor were no longermaster and servant. "How do you like my little place of business?"

"You're making a comfortable nest of it, anyhow, Pratt, " answeredEldrick, looking round. "And--what sort of business are you going to do, pray?"

"Agency, " replied Pratt, promptly. "It struck me some little time agothat a smart man, --like myself, eh?--could do well here in Barford as anagent in a new sort of fashion--attending to things for people whoaren't fitted or inclined to do 'em for themselves--or are rich enoughto employ somebody to look after their affairs. Of course, thatNormandale stewardship dropped out when young Harper died, and I don'tsuppose the notion 'll be revived now that his sister's come in. ButI've got one good job to go on with---Mrs. Mallathorpe's given me heraffairs to look after. "

Eldrick took one of the cigarettes and lighted it--as a sign of hispeaceable and amicable intentions. 

"Pratt!" he said. "That's just what I've come to see you about. Unofficially, mind--in quite a friendly way. It's like this"; and hewent on to tell Pratt of what had just occurred at his own office. "So--there you are, " he concluded. "I'm saying nothing, you know, it'sno affair of mine--but if these people begin to say that you've used anyundue influence----"

"Mr. Collingwood, and Mr. Robson, and Miss Mallathorpe--and anybody, "answered Pratt, slowly and firmly, "had better mind what they aresaying, Mr. Eldrick. There's such a thing as slander, as you're wellaware. I'm not the man to be slandered, or libelled, or to have mycharacter defamed--without fighting for my rights. There has been noundue influence! I went to see Mrs. Mallathorpe yesterday at her ownrequest. The arrangement between me and her is made with her approvaland free will. If her daughter found her a bit upset, it's because she'dsuch a shock at the time of her son's death. I did nothing to frightenher, not I! The fact is, Miss Mallathorpe doesn't know that her motherand I have had a bit of business together of late. And all that Mrs. Mallathorpe has entrusted to me is the power to look after her affairsfor her. And why not? You know that I'm a good man of business, a reallygood hand at commercial accountancy, and well acquainted with the tradeof this town. You know too, Mr. Eldrick, that I'm scrupulouslyhonest--I've had many and many a thousand pounds of yours and yourpartner's through my hands! Who's got anything to say against me? I'monly trying to earn an honest living. "

"Well, well!" said Eldrick, who, being an easy-going andkindly-dispositioned man, was somewhat inclined to side with his oldclerk. "I suppose Mr. Robson thinks that if Mrs. Mallathorpe wished toput her affairs in anybody's hands, she should have put them in his. He's their family solicitor, you know, Pratt, while you're a young manwith no claim on Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

Pratt smiled--a queer, knowing smile--and reached out his hand to somepapers which lay on his desk. 

"You're wrong there, Mr. Eldrick, " he said. "But of course, you don'tknow. I didn't know myself, nor did Mrs. Mallathorpe, until lately. ButI have a claim--and a good one--to get a business lift from Mrs. Mallathorpe. I'm a relation. "

"What--of the Mallathorpe family?" exclaimed Eldrick, whose legal mindwas at once bitten by notion of kinship and succession, and who knewthat Harper Mallathorpe was supposed to have no male relatives at all, of any degree. "You don't mean it?"

"No!--but of hers, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " answered Pratt. "My mother was hercousin. I found that out by mere chance, and when I'd found it, I workedout the facts from our parish church register. They're all here--fairlycopied--Mrs. Mallathorpe has seen them. So I have some claim--even ifit's only that of a poor relation. "

Eldrick took the sheets of foolscap which Pratt handed to him, andlooked them over with interest and curiosity. He was something of anexpert in such matters, and had helped to edit a print more than once ofthe local parish registers. He soon saw from a hasty examination of thevarious entries of marriages and births that Pratt was quite right inwhat he said. 

"I call it a poor--and a mean--game, " remarked Pratt, while his oldmaster was thus occupied, "a very mean game indeed, of well-to-do folklike Mr. Collingwood and Mr. Robson to want to injure me in a matterwhich is no business of theirs. I shall do my duty by Mrs. Mallathorpe--you yourself know I'm fully competent to do it--and I shallfully earn the percentage that she'll pay me. What right have thesepeople--what right has her daughter--to come between me and my living?"

"Oh, well, well!" said Eldrick, as he handed back the papers and rose. "It's one of those matters that hasn't been understood. You made amistake, you know, Pratt, when you went to see Mrs. Mallathorpe yesterdayin her daughter's absence. You shouldn't have done that. "

Pratt pulled open a drawer and, after turning over some loose papers, picked out a letter. 

"Do you know Mrs. Mallathorpe's handwriting?" he asked. "Verywell--there it is! Isn't that a request from her that I should call onher yesterday afternoon? Very well then!"

Eldrick looked at the letter with some surprise. He had a good memory, and he remembered that Collingwood had told him that Nesta had said thatPratt had gone to Normandale Grange, seen Esther Mawson, and told herthat it was absolutely necessary for him to see Mrs. Mallathorpe. Andthough Eldrick was naturally unsuspicious, an idea flashed across hismind--had Pratt got Mrs. Mallathorpe to write that letter while he wasthere--yesterday--and brought it away with him?

"I think there's a good deal of misunderstanding, " he said. "Mr. Collingwood says that you went there and told her maid that it wasabsolutely necessary for you to see her mistress--sort of forcedyourself in, you see, Pratt. "

"Nothing of the sort!" retorted Pratt. He flourished the letter in hishand. "Doesn't it say there, in Mrs. Mallathorpe's own handwriting, thatshe particularly desires to see me at three o'clock? It does! Then itwas absolutely necessary for me to see her. Come, now! And Mr. Collingwood had best attend to his own business. What's he got to dowith all this? After Miss Mallathorpe and her money, I shouldthink!--that's about it!"

Eldrick said another soothing word or two, and went back to his ownoffice. He was considerably mystified by certain things, but inclined tobe satisfied about others, and in giving an account of what had justtaken place he unconsciously seemed to take Pratt's side--much toRobson's disgust, and to Collingwood's astonishment. 

"You can't get over this, you know, Robson, " said Eldrick. "Pratt wentthere yesterday by appointment--went at Mrs. Mallathorpe's own expressdesire, made in her own handwriting. And it's quite certain that what hesays about the relationship is true---I examined the proof myself. It'snot unnatural that Mrs. Mallathorpe should desire to do something forher own cousin's son. "

"To that extent?" sneered Robson. "Bless me, you talk as if it were nomore than presenting him with a twenty pound note, instead of its beingwhat it is--giving him the practical control of many a thousand poundsevery year. There'll be more heard of this--yet!"

He went away angrier than when he came, and Eldrick looked atCollingwood and shook his head. 

"I don't see what more there is to do, " he said. "So far as I can makeout, or see, Pratt is within his rights. If Mrs. Mallathorpe liked toentrust her business to him, what is to prevent it? I see nothing at allstrange in that. But there is a fact which does seem uncommonly strangeto me! It's this--how is it that Mrs. Mallathorpe doesn't consult, hasn't consulted--doesn't inform, hasn't informed--her daughter aboutall this?"

"That, " answered Collingwood, "is precisely what strikes me--and I can'tgive any explanation. Nor, I believe, can Miss Mallathorpe. "

He felt obliged to go back to Normandale, and tell Nesta the result ofthe afternoon's proceedings. And having seen during his previous visithow angry she could be, he was not surprised to see her become angrierand more determined than ever. 

"I will not have Mr. Pratt coming here!" she exclaimed. "He shall notsee my mother--under my roof, at any rate. I don't believe she sent forhim. "

"Mr. Eldrick saw her letter!" interrupted Collingwood quietly. 

"Then that man made her write it while he was here!" exclaimed Nesta. "As to the relationship--it may be so. I never heard of it. But I don'tcare what relation he is to my mother--he is not going to interfere withher affairs!"

"The strange thing, " said Collingwood, as pointedly as was consistentwith kindness, "is that your mother--just now, at any rate--doesn't seemto be taking you into her confidence. "

Nesta looked steadily at him for a moment, without speaking. When shedid speak it was with decision. 

"Quite so!" she said. "She is keeping something from me! And if shewon't tell me things--well, I must find them out for myself. "

She would say no more than that, and Collingwood left her. And as hewent back to Barford he cursed Linford Pratt soundly for a deep andunderhand rogue who was most certainly playing some fine game. 

But Pratt himself was quite satisfied--up to that point. He had won hisfirst trick and he had splendid cards still left in his hand. And he wasreckoning his chances on them one morning a little later when a ring athis bell summoned him to his office door--whereat stood NestaMallathorpe, alone. 

CHAPTER XIV

CARDS ON THE TABLE

Had any third person been present, closely to observe the meeting ofthese two young people, he would have seen that the one to whom it wasunexpected and a surprise was outwardly as calm and self-possessed as ifthe other had come there to keep an ordinary business appointment. 

Nesta Mallathorpe, looking very dignified and almost stately in hermourning, was obviously angry, indignant, and agitated. But Pratt was ascool and as fully at his ease as if he were back in Eldrick's office, receiving the everyday ordinary client. He swept his door open andexecuted his politest bow--and was clever enough to pretend that he sawnothing of his visitor's agitation. Yet deep within himself he felt moretremors than one, and it needed all his powers of dissimulation to actand speak as if this were the most usual of occurrences. 

"Good morning, Miss Mallathorpe!" he said. "You wish to see me? Comeinto my private office, if you please. I haven't fixed on a clerk yet, "he went on, as he led his visitor through the outer room, and to theeasy chair by his desk. "I have several applications from promisingaspirants, but I have to be careful, you know, Miss Mallathorpe--it's aposition of confidence. And now, " he concluded, as he closed the doorupon Nesta and himself, "how is Mrs. Mallathorpe today? Improving, Ihope?"

Nesta made no reply to these remarks, or to the question. And instead oftaking the easy chair which Eldrick had found so comfortable, she wentto one which stood against the wall opposite Pratt's desk and seatedherself in it in as upright a position as the wall behind her. 

"I wish to speak to you--plainly!" she said, as Pratt, who now regardedher somewhat doubtfully, realizing that he was in for business of aserious nature, sat down at his desk. "I want to ask you a plainquestion--and I expect a plain answer. Why are you blackmailing mymother?"

Pratt shook his head--as if he felt more sorrow than anger. He glanceddeprecatingly at his visitor. 

"I think you'll be sorry--on reflection--that you said that, MissMallathorpe, " he answered. "You're a little--shall we say--upset? Alittle--shall we say--angry? If you were calmer, you wouldn't say suchthings--you wouldn't use such a term as--blackmailing. It's--dear me, Idare say you don't know it!--it's actionable. If I were that sort ofman, Miss Mallathorpe, and you said that of me before witnesses--ah! Idon't know what mightn't happen. However--I'm not that sort of man. But--don't say it again, if you please!"

"If you don't answer my question--and at once, " said Nesta, whose cheekswere pale with angry determination, "I shall say it again in a fashionyou won't like--not to you, but to the police!"

Pratt smiled--a quiet, strange smile which made his visitor feel asudden sense of fear. And again he shook his head, slowly anddeprecatingly. 

"Oh, no!" he said gently. "That's a bigger mistake than the other, MissMallathorpe! The police! Oh, not the police, I think, Miss Mallathorpe. You see--other people than you might go to the police--about somethingelse. "

Nesta's anger cooled down under that scarcely veiled threat. The sightof Pratt, of his self-assurance, his comfortable offices, his generalatmosphere of almost sleek satisfaction, had roused her temper, alreadystrained to breaking point. But that smile, and the quiet look whichaccompanied his last words, warned her that anger was mere foolishness, and that she was in the presence of a man who would have to be dealtwith calmly if the dealings were to be successful. Yet--she repeated herwords, but this time in a different tone. 

"I shall certainly go to the police authorities, " she said, "unless Iget some proper explanation from you. I shall have no option. You areforcing--or have forced--my mother to enter into some strangearrangements with you, and I can't think it is for anything but what Isay--blackmail. You've got--or you think you've got--some hold on her. Now what is it? I mean to know, one way or another!"

"Miss Mallathorpe, " said Pratt. "You're taking a wrong course--with me. Now who advised you to come here and speak to me like this, as if I werea common criminal? Mr. Collingwood, no doubt? Or perhaps Mr. Robson? Nowif either----"

"Neither Mr. Robson nor Mr. Collingwood know anything whatever about mycoming here!" retorted Nesta. "No one knows! I am quite competent tomanage my own affairs--of this sort. I want to know why my mother hasbeen forced into that arrangement with you--for I am sure you haveforced her! If you will not tell me why--then I shall do what I said. "

"You'll go to the police authorities?" asked Pratt. "Ah!--but let usconsider things a little, Miss Mallathorpe. Now, to start with, who saysthere has been any forcing? I know one person who won't say so--andthat's your mother herself!"

Nesta felt unable to answer that assertion. And Pratt smiledtriumphantly and went on. 

"She'll tell you--Mrs. Mallathorpe'll tell you--that she's very pleasedindeed to have my poor services, " he said. "She knows that I shall serveher well. She's glad to do a kind service to a poor relation. And sinceI am your mother's relation, Miss Mallathorpe, I'm yours, too. I'm somedegree of cousin to you. You might think rather better, rather morekindly, of me!"

"Are you going to tell me anything more than that?" asked Nestasteadily. Pratt shrugged his shoulders and waved his hands. 

"What more can I tell?" he asked. "The fact is, there's a businessarrangement between me and your mother--and you object to it. Well--I'msorry, but I've my own interests to consider. "

"Are you going to tell me what it was that induced my mother to signthat paper you got from her the other day?" asked Nesta. 

"Can I say more than that it was--a business arrangement?" pleadedPratt. "There's nothing unusual in one party in a business arrangementgiving a power of attorney to another party. Nothing!"

"Very well!" said Nesta, rising from the straight-backed chair, andlooking very rigid herself as she stood up. "You won't tell me anything!So--I am now going to the police. I don't know what they'll do. I don'tknow what they can do. But--I can tell them what I think and feel aboutthis, at any rate. For as sure as I am that I see you, there's somethingwrong! And I'll know what it is. "

Pratt recognized that she had passed beyond the stage of mere anger toone of calm determination. And as she marched towards the door he calledher back--as the result of a second's swift thought on his part. 

"Miss Mallathorpe, " he said. "Oblige me by sitting down again. I'm notin the least afraid of your going to the police. But my experience isthat if one goes to them on errands of this sort, it sets all sorts ofthings going--scandal, and suspicion, and I don't know what! You don'twant any scandal. Sit down, if you please, and let us think for amoment. And I'll see if I can tell you--what you want to know. "

Nesta already had a hand on the door. But after looking at him for asecond or two, she turned back, and sat down in her old position. AndPratt, still seated at his desk, plunged his hands in his trouserspockets, tilted back his chair, and for five minutes stared with knittedbrows at his blotting pad. A queer silence fell on the room. The windowswere double-sashed; no sound came up from the busy street below. But onthe mantelpiece a cheap Geneva clock ticked and ticked, and Nesta feltat last that if it went on much longer, without the accompaniment of ahuman voice, she should suddenly snatch it up, and hurl it--anywhere. 

Pratt was in the position of the card-player, who, confronted by acertain turn in the course of a game which he himself feels sure he isbound to win, wonders whether he had better not expedite matters bylaying his cards on the table, and asking his opponent if he canpossibly beat their values and combination. He had carefully reckoned uphis own position more than once during the progress of recent events, and the more carefully he calculated it the more he felt convinced thathe had nothing to fear. He had had to alter his ground in consequence ofthe death of Harper Mallathorpe, and he had known that he would have tofight Nesta. But he had not anticipated that hostilities would come sosoon, or begin with such evident determination on her part. How would itbe, then, at this first stage to make such a demonstration in force thatshe would recognize his strength?

He looked up at last and saw Nesta regarding him sternly. But Prattsmiled--the quiet smile which made her uneasy. 

"Miss Mallathorpe!" he said. "I was thinking of two things just then--agame at cards--and the science of warfare. In both it's a good thingsometimes to let your adversary see what a strong hand you've got. Now, then, a question, if you please--are you and I adversaries?"

"Yes!" answered Nesta unflinchingly. "You're acting like an enemy--youare an enemy!"

"I've hoped that you and I would be friends--good friends, " said Pratt, with something like a sigh. "And if I may say so, I've no feeling ofenmity towards you. When I speak of us being adversaries, I mean itin--well, let's say a sort of legal sense. But now I'll show you myhand--that is, as far as I please. Will you listen quietly to me?"

"I've no choice, " replied Nesta bluntly. "And I came here to know whatyou've got to say for yourself. Say it!"

Pratt moved his chair a little nearer to his visitor. 

"Now, " he said, speaking very quietly and deliberately, "I'll go throughwhat I have to say to you carefully, point by point. I shall ask you togo back a little way. It is now some time since I discovered a secretabout your mother, Mrs. Mallathorpe. Ah, you start!--it may be withindignation, but I assure you I'm telling you, and am going to tell you, the absolute truth. I say--a secret! No one knows it but myself--not oneliving soul! Except, of course, your mother. I shall not reveal it toyou--under any consideration, or in any circumstances--but I can tellyou this--if that secret were revealed, your mother would be ruined forlife--and you yourself would suffer in more ways than one. "

Nesta looked at him incredulously--and yet she began to feel he wastelling some truth. And Pratt shook his head at the incredulousexpression. 

"It's quite so!" he said. "You'll begin to believe it---from otherthings. Now, it was in connection with this that I paid a visit toNormandale Grange one evening some months ago. Perhaps you never heardof that? I was alone with your mother for some time in the study. "

"I have heard of it, " she answered. 

"Very good, " said Pratt. "But you haven't heard that your mother came tosee me at my rooms here in Barford--my lodgings--the very next night! Onthe same business, of course. But she did--I know how she came, too. Secretly--heavily veiled--naturally, she didn't want anybody to know. Are you beginning to see something in it, Miss Mallathorpe?"

"Go on with your--story, " answered Nesta. 

"I go on, then, to the day before your brother's death, " continuedPratt. "Namely, a certain Friday. Now, if you please, I'll invite you tolisten carefully to certain facts--which are indisputable, which I canprove, easily. On that Friday, the day before your brother's death, Mrs. Mallathorpe was in the shrubbery at Normandale Grange which is near thenorth end of the old foot-bridge. She was approached by Hoskins, an oldwoodman, who has been on the estate a great many years--you know himwell enough. Hoskins told Mrs. Mallathorpe that the foot-bridge betweenthe north and south shrubberies, spanning the cut which was made there along time since so that a nearer road could be made to the stables, wasin an extremely dangerous condition--so dangerous, in fact, that in hisopinion, it would collapse under even a moderate weight. I impress thisfact upon you strongly. "

"Well?" said Nesta. 

"Hoskins, " Pratt went on, "urged upon Mrs. Mallathorpe the necessity ofhaving the bridge closed at once, or barricaded. He pointed out to herfrom where they stood certain places in the bridge, and in the railingon one side of it, which already sagged in such a fashion, that he, as aman of experience, knew that planks and railings were literally rottenwith damp. Now what did Mrs. Mallathorpe do? She said nothing toHoskins, except that she'd have the thing seen to. But she immediatelywent to the estate carpenter's shop, and there she procured two shortlengths of chain, and two padlocks, and she herself went back to thefoot-bridge and secured its wicket gates at both ends. I beg you willbear that in mind, too, Miss Mallathorpe. "

"I am bearing everything in mind, " said Nesta resolutely. "Don't beafraid that I shall forget one word that you say. "

"I hear that sneer in your voice, " answered Pratt, as he turned, unlocked a drawer, and drew out some papers. "But I think you will soonlearn that the sneer at what I'm telling you is foolish. Mrs. Mallathorpe had a set purpose in locking up those gates--as you will seepresently. You will see it from what I am now going to tell you. Obligeme, if you please, by looking at that letter. Do you recognize yourmother's handwriting?"

"Yes!" admitted Nesta, with a sudden feeling of apprehension. "That isher writing. "

"Very good, " said Pratt. "Then before I read it to you, I'll just tellyou what this letter is. It formed, when it was written, an invitationfrom Mrs. Mallathorpe to me--an invitation to walk, innocently, intowhat she knew--knew, mind you!--to be a death-trap! She meant _me_ tofall through the bridge!"

CHAPTER XV

PRATT OFFERS A HAND

For a full moment of tense silence Nesta and Pratt looked at each otheracross the letter which he held in his outstretched hand--lookedsteadily and with a certain amount of stern inquiry. And it was Nesta'seyes which first gave way--beaten by the certainty in Pratt's. Shelooked aside; her cheeks flamed; she felt as if something were rising inher throat--to choke her. 

"I can't believe that!" she muttered. "You're--mistaken! Oh--utterlymistaken!"

"No mistake!" said Pratt confidently. "I tell you your mother meantme--me!--to meet my death at that bridge. Here's the proof in thisletter! I'll tell you, first, when I received it: then I'll read youwhat's in it, and if you doubt my reading of it, you shall read ityourself--but it won't go out of my hands! And first as to my gettingit, for that's important. It reached me, by registered post, mind you, on the Saturday morning on which your brother met his death. It washanded in at Normandale village post-office for registration late on theFriday afternoon. And--by whom do you think?"

"I--don't know!" replied Nesta faintly. This merciless piling up ofdetails was beginning to frighten her--already she felt as if sheherself were some criminal, forced to listen from the dock to theopening address of a prosecuting counsel. "How should I know?--how can Ithink?"

"It was handed in for registration by your mother's maid, EstherMawson, " said Pratt with a dark look. "I've got her evidence, anyway!And that was all part of a plan--just as a certain something that wasenclosed was a part of the same plan--a plot. And now I'll read you theletter--and you'll bear it in mind that I got it by first post thatSaturday morning. This is what it--what your mother--says:--

 "I particularly wish to see you again, at once, about the matter between us and to have another look at _that document_. Can you come here, bringing it with you, tomorrow, Saturday afternoon, by the train which leaves soon after two o'clock? As I am most anxious that your visit should be private and unknown to any one here, do not come to the house. Take the path across the park to the shrubberies near the house, so that if you are met people would think you were taking a near cut to the village. I will meet you in the shrubbery on the house side of the little foot-bridge. The gates--'"

Pratt suddenly paused, and before proceeding looked hard at his visitor. 

"Now listen to what follows--and bear in mind what your mother knew, andhad done, at the time she wrote this letter. This is how the letter goeson---let every word fix itself in your mind, Miss Mallathorpe!"

 "'The gates of the foot-bridge are locked, but the enclosed keys will open them. I will meet you amongst the trees on the further side. Be sure to come and to bring _that document_--I have something to say about it on seeing it again. '"

Pratt turned to the drawer from which he had taken the letter and tookout two small keys, evidently belonging to patent padlocks. He held themup before Nesta. 

"There they are!" he said triumphantly. "Been in my possession eversince--and will remain there. Now--do you wish to read the letter? I'veread it to you word for word. You don't? Very good--back it goes inthere, with these keys. And now then, " he continued, having replacedletter and keys in his drawer, and turned to her again, "now then, yousee what a diabolical scheme it was that was in your mother's mindagainst me. She meant me to meet with the fate which overtook her ownson! She meant me to fall through that bridge. Why? She hoped that Ishould break my neck--as he did! She wanted to silence me--but she alsowanted more--she wanted to take from my dead body, or my unconsciousbody, the certain something which she was so anxious I should bring withme, which she referred to as _that document_. She was willing to riskanything--even to murder!--to get hold of that. And now you know why Iwent to Normandale Grange that Saturday--you know, now, the real reason. I told a deliberate lie at the inquest, for your mother's sake--for yoursake, if you know it. I did not go there to hand in my application forthe stewardship--I went in response to the letter I've just read. Is allthis clear to you?"

Nesta could only move her head in silent acquiescence. She was alreadyconvinced, that whether all this was entirely true or not, there wastruth of some degree in what Pratt had told her. And she was thinking ofher mother--and of the trap which she certainly appeared to havelaid--and of her brother's fate--and for the moment she felt sick andbeaten. But Pratt went on in that cold, calculating voice, telling hisstory point by point. 

"Now I come to what happened that Saturday afternoon, " he said. "I mayas well tell you that in my own interest I have carefully collectedcertain evidence which never came out at the inquest--which, indeed, hasnothing to do with the exact matter of the inquest. Now, that Saturday, your mother and you had lunch together--your brother, as we shall see ina moment, being away--at your lunch time--a quarter to two. About twentyminutes past two your mother left the house. She went out into thegardens. She left the gardens for the shrubberies. And at twenty-fiveminutes to three, she was seen by one of your gardeners, Featherstone, in what was, of course, hiding, amongst the trees at the end of thenorth shrubbery. What was she doing there, Miss Mallathorpe? She waswaiting!--waiting until a certain hoped-for accident happened--to me. Then she would come out of her hiding-place in the hope of getting thatdocument from my pocket! Do you see how cleverly she'd laid herplans--murderous plans?"

Nesta was making a great effort to be calm. She knew now that she wasface to face with some awful mystery which could only be solved bypatience and strenuous endeavour. She knew, too, that she must show nosign of fear before this man!

"Will you finish your story, if you please?" she asked. 

"In my own way--in my own time, " answered Pratt. "I now come to--yourmother. On the Friday noon, the late Mr. Harper Mallathorpe went toBarford to visit a friend--young Stemthwaite, at the Hollies. He was tostay the night there, and was not expected home until Saturday evening. He did stay the night, and remained in Barford until noon on Saturday;but he--unexpectedly--returned to the house at half past two. And almostas soon as he'd got in, he picked up a gun and strolled out--into thegardens and the north shrubbery. And, as you know, he went to thefoot-bridge. You see, Miss Mallathorpe, your mother, clever as she was, had forgotten one detail--the gates of that footbridge were merely low, four-barred things, and there was nothing to prevent an active young manfrom climbing them. She forgot another thing, too--that warning had notbeen given at the house that the bridge was dangerous. And, of course, she'd never, never calculated that your brother would return sooner thanhe was expected, or that, on his return, he'd go where he did. Andso--but I'll spare you any reference to what happened. Only--you knownow how it was that Mrs. Mallathorpe was found by her son's body. She'dbeen waiting about--for me! But--the fate she'd meant for me was dealtout to--him!"

In spite of herself Nesta gave way to a slight cry. 

"I can't bear any more of that!" she said. "Have you finished?"

"There's not much more to say--now at any rate, " replied Pratt. "Andwhat I have to say shall be to the point. I'm sorry enough to have beenobliged to say all that I have said. But, you know, you forced me to it!You threatened me. The real truth, Miss Mallathorpe, is just this--youdon't understand me at all. You come here--excuse my plainspeech--hectoring and bullying me with talk about the police, andblackmail, and I don't know what! It's I who ought to go to the police!I could have your mother arrested, and put in the dock, on a charge ofattempted murder, this very day! I've got all the proofs. "

"I suppose you held that out as a threat to her when you forced her tosign that power of attorney?" observed Nesta. 

For the first time since her arrival Pratt looked at his visitor in anunfriendly fashion. His expression changed and his face flushed alittle. 

"You think that, do you?" he said. "Well, you're wrong. I'm not a fool. I held out no such threat. I didn't even tell your mother what I'd foundout. I wasn't going to show her my hand all at once--though I've shownyou a good deal of it. "

"Not all?" she asked quickly. 

"Not all, " answered Pratt with a meaning glance. "To use moremetaphors--I've several cards up my sleeve, Miss Mallathorpe. But you'reutterly wrong about the threats. I'll tell you--I don't mind that--how Igot the authority you're speaking about. Your mother had promised methat stewardship--for life. I'd have been a good steward. But werecognized that your brother's death had altered things--that you, being, as she said, a self-willed young woman--you see how plain Iam--would insist on looking after your own affairs. So she gaveme--another post. I'll discharge its duties honestly. "

"Yes, " said Nesta, "but you've already told me that you'd a hold on mymother before any of these recent events happened, and that you possesssome document which she was anxious to get into her hands. So it comesto this--you've a double hold on her, according to your story. "

"Just so, " agreed Pratt. "You're right, I have--a double hold. "

Nesta looked at him silently for a while: Pratt looked at her. 

"Very well, " she said at last. "How much do you want--to be bought out?"

Pratt laughed. 

"I thought that would be the end of it!" he remarked. "Yes--I thoughtso!"

"Name your price!" said Nesta. 

"Miss Mallathorpe!" answered Pratt, bending forward and speaking with anew earnestness. "Just listen to me. It's no good. I'm not to be boughtout. Your mother tried that game with me before. She offered me firstfive, then ten thousand pounds--cash down--for that document, when shecame to see me at my rooms. I dare say she'd have gone to twentythousand--and found the money there and then. But I said no then--and Isay no to you! I'm not to be purchased in that way. I've my own ideas, my own plans, my own ambitions, my own--hopes. It's not any use at allfor you to dangle your money before me. But--I'll suggest somethingelse--that you can do. "

Nesta made no answer. She continued to look steadily at the man whoevidently had her mother in his power, and Pratt, who was watching herintently, went on speaking quietly but with some intensity of tone. 

"You can do this, " he said. "To start with--and it'll go a longway--just try and think better of me. I told you, you don't understandme. Try to! I'm not a bad lot. I've great abilities. I'm a hard worker. Eldrick & Pascoe could tell you that I'm scrupulously honest in moneymatters. You'll see that I'll look after your mother's affairs in afashion that'll commend itself to any firm of auditors and accountantswho may look into my accounts every year. I'm only taking the salaryfrom her that I was to have had for the stewardship. So--why not leaveit at that? Let things be! Perhaps--in time you'll come to see that--I'mto be trusted. "

"How can I trust a man who deliberately tells me that he holds a secretand a document over a woman's head?" demanded Nesta. "You've admitted aprevious hold on my mother. You say you're in possession of a secretthat would ruin her--quite apart from recent events. Is that honest?"

"It was none of my seeking, " retorted Pratt. "I gained the knowledge byaccident. "

"You're giving yourself away, " said Nesta. "Or you've some mental twistor defect which prevents you from seeing things straight. It's not howyou got your knowledge, but the use you're making of it that's theimportant thing! You're using it to force my mother to----"

"Excuse me!" interrupted Pratt with a queer smile. "It's you who don'tsee things straight. I'm using my knowledge to protect--all of you. Letyour mind go back to what was said at first--to what I said at first. Isaid that I'd discovered a secret which, if revealed, would ruin yourmother and injure--you! So it would--more than ever, now. So, you see, in keeping it, I'm taking care, not only of her interests, butof--yours!"

Nesta rose. She realized that there was no more to be said--or done. AndPratt rose, too, and looked at her almost appealingly. 

"I wish you'd try to see things as I've put them, Miss Mallathorpe, " hesaid. "I don't bear malice against your mother for that scheme shecontrived--I'm willing to put it clear out of my head. Why not acceptthings as they are? I'll keep that secret for ever--no one shall everknow about it. Why not be friends, now--why not shake hands?"

He held out his hand as he spoke. But Nesta drew back. 

"No!" she said. "My opinion is just what it was when I came here. "

Before Pratt could move she had turned swiftly to the door and letherself out, and in another minute she was amongst the crowds in thestreet below. For a few minutes she walked in the direction of Robson'soffices, but when she had nearly reached them, she turned, and wentdeliberately to those of Eldrick & Pascoe. 

CHAPTER XVI

A HEADQUARTERS CONFERENCE

By the time she had been admitted to Eldrick's private room, Nesta hadregained her composure; she had also had time to think, and her presentaction was the result of at any rate a part of her thoughts. She wascalm and collected enough when she took the chair which the solicitordrew forward. 

"I called on you for two reasons, Mr. Eldrick, " she said. "First, tothank you for your kindness and thoughtfulness at the time of mybrother's death, in sending your clerk to help in making thearrangements. "

"Very glad he was of any assistance, Miss Mallathorpe, " answeredEldrick. "I thought, of course, that as he had been on the spot, as itwere, when the accident happened, he could do a few little things----"

"He was very useful in that way, " said Nesta. "And I was very muchobliged to him. But the second reason for my call is--I want to speak toyou about him. "

"Yes?" responded Eldrick. He had already formed some idea as to what wasin his visitor's mind, and he was secretly glad of the opportunity oftalking to her. "About Pratt, eh? What about him, Miss Mallathorpe?"

"He was with you for some years, I believe?" she asked. 

"A good many years, " answered Eldrick. "He came to us as office-boy, andwas head-clerk when he left us. "

"Then you ought to know him--well, " she suggested. 

"As to that, " replied Eldrick, "there are some people in this world whomother people never could know well--that's to say, really well. I knowPratt well enough for what he was--our clerk. Privately, I know littleabout him. He's clever--he's ability--he's a chap who reads a gooddeal--he's got ambitions. And I should say he is a bit--subtle. "

"Deceitful?" she asked. 

"I couldn't say that, " replied Eldrick. "It wouldn't be true if I saidso. I think he's possibilities of strategy in him. But so far as we'reconcerned, we found him hardworking, energetic, truthful, dependable andhonest, and absolutely to be trusted in money matters. He's had many andmany a thousand pounds of ours through his hands. "

"I believe you're unaware that my mother, for some reason or other, unknown to me, has put him in charge of her affairs?" asked Nesta. 

"Yes--Mr. Collingwood told me so, " answered Eldrick. "So, too, did yourown solicitor, Mr. Robson--who's very angry about it. "

"And you?" she said, putting a direct question. "What do you think? Doplease, tell me!"

"It's difficult to say, Miss Mallathorpe, " replied Eldrick, with a smileand a shake of the head. "If your mother--who, of course, is quitecompetent to decide for herself--wishes to have somebody to look afterher affairs, I don't see what objection can be taken to her procedure. And if she chooses to put Linford Pratt in that position--why not? As Itell you, I, as his last--and only--employer, am quite convinced of hisabilities and probity. I suppose that as your mother's agent, he'llsupervise her property, collect money due to her, advise her ininvestments, and so on. Well, I should say--personally, mind--he's quitecompetent to do all that, and that he'll do it honestly, I shouldcertainly say so. "

"But--why should he do it at all?" asked Nesta. 

Eldrick waved his hands. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Now you ask me a very different question! But--Iunderstand--in fact, I know--that Pratt turns out to be a relation ofyours--distant, but it's there. Perhaps your mother--who, of course, ismuch better off since your brother's sad death--is desirous ofbenefiting Pratt--as a relation. "

"Do you advise anything?" asked Nesta. 

"Well, you know, Miss Mallathorpe, " replied Eldrick, smiling. "I'm notyour legal adviser. What about Mr. Robson?"

"Mr. Robson is so very angry about all this--with my mother, " saidNesta, "that I don't even want to ask his advice. What I really do wantis the advice, counsel, of somebody--perhaps more as a friend than as asolicitor. "

"Delighted to give you any help I can--either professionally or as afriend, " exclaimed Eldrick. "But--let me suggest something. And first ofall--is there anything--something--in all this that you haven't told toanybody yet?"

"Yes--much!" she answered. "A great deal!"

"Then, " said Eldrick, "let me advise a certain counsel. Two heads arebetter than one. Let me ask Mr. Collingwood to come here. "

He was watching his visitor narrowly as he said this, and he saw a faintrise of colour in her cheeks. But for the moment she did not answer, andEldrick saw that she was thinking. 

"I can get him across from his chambers in a few minutes, " he said. "He's sure to be in just now. "

"Can I have a few minutes to decide?" asked Nesta. 

Eldrick jumped up. 

"Of course!" he said. "I'll leave you a while. It so happens I want tosee my partner, I'll go up to his room, and return to you presently. "

Nesta, left alone, gave herself up to deep thought, and to a carefulreckoning of her position. She was longing to confide in sometrustworthy person or persons, for Pratt's revelations had plunged herinto a maze of perplexity. But her difficulties were many. First of all, she would have to tell all about the terrible charge brought by Prattagainst her mother. Then about the second which he professed to--orprobably did--hold. What sort of a secret could it be? And supposing heradvisers suggested strong measures against Pratt--what then, about thedanger to her mother, in a twofold direction?

Would it be better, wiser, if she kept all this to herself at present, and waited for events to develop? But at the mere thought of that, sheshrank, feeling mentally and physically afraid--to keep all thatknowledge to herself, to brood over it in secret, to wonder what it allmeant, what lay beneath, what might develop, that was more than she feltable to bear. And when Eldrick came back she looked at him and nodded. 

"I should like to talk to you and Mr. Collingwood, " she said quietly. 

Collingwood came across to Eldrick's office at once. And to these twoNesta unbosomed herself of every detail that she could remember of herinterview with Pratt--and as she went on, from one thing to another, shesaw the men's faces grow graver and graver, and realized that this was amore anxious matter than she had thought. 

"That's all, " she said in the end. "I don't think I've forgottenanything. And even now, I don't know if I've done right to tell you allthis. But--I don't think I could have faced it--alone!"

"My dear Miss Mallathorpe!" said Eldrick earnestly. "You've done thewisest thing you probably ever did in your life! Now, " he went on, looking at Collingwood, "just let us all three realize what is to me amore important fact. Nobody would be more astonished than Pratt to knowthat you have taken the wise step you have. You agree, Collingwood?"

"Yes!" answered Collingwood, after a moment's reflection. "I think so. "

"Miss Mallathorpe doesn't quite see what we mean, " said Eldrick, turningto Nesta. "We mean that Pratt firmly believed, when he told you what hedid, that for your mother's sake and your own, you would keep hiscommunication a dead secret. He firmly believed that you would neverdare to tell anybody what he told you. Most people--in yourposition--wouldn't have told. They'd have let the secret eat their livesout. You're a wise and a sensible young woman! And the thing is--wemust let Pratt remain under the impression that you are keeping yourknowledge to yourself. Let him continue to believe that you'll remainsilent under fear. And let us meet his secret policy with a secretstrategy of our own!"

Again he glanced at Collingwood, and again Collingwood nodded assent. 

"Now, " continued Eldrick, "just let us consider matters for a fewminutes from the position which has newly arisen. To begin with. Pratt'saccount of your mother's dealings about the foot-bridge is a very cleverand plausible one. I can see quite well that it has caused you greatpain; so before I go any further, just let me say this to you--don't youattach one word of importance to it!"

Nesta uttered a heartfelt cry of relief. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "If you knew how thankful I should be to know thatit's all lies--that he was lying! Can I really think that--after what Isaw?"

"I won't ask you to think that he's telling lies--just now, " answeredEldrick, with a glance at Collingwood, "but I'll ask you to believe thatyour mother could put a totally different aspect and complexion on allher actions and words in connection with the entire affair. Myimpression, of course, " he went on, with something very like a wink atCollingwood, "is that Mrs. Mallathorpe, when she wrote that letter toPratt, intended to have the bridge mended first thing next morning, andthat something prevented that being done, and that when she was seenabout the shrubberies in the afternoon, she was on her way to meet Prattbefore he could reach the dangerous point, so that she could warn him. What do you say, Collingwood?"

"I should say, " answered Collingwood, regarding the solicitor earnestly, and speaking with great gravity of manner, "that that would make anadmirable line of defence to any charge which Pratt was wicked enough toprefer. "

"You don't think my mother meant--meant to----" exclaimed Nesta, eagerlyturning from one man to the other. "You--don't?"

"There is no evidence worth twopence against your mother!" repliedEldrick soothingly. "Put everything that Pratt has said against herclear out of your mind. Put all recent events out of your mind! Don'tinterfere with Pratt--just now. The thing to be done about Pratt isthis--and it's the only thing. We must find out--exactly, as secretly aspossible--what this secret is of which he speaks. What is this hold onMrs. Mallathorpe? What is this document to which he refers? In otherwords, we must work back to some point which at present we can't see. Atleast, I can't see it. But--we may discover it. What do you say, Collingwood?"

"I agree entirely, " answered Collingwood. "Let Pratt rest in his fanciedsecurity. The thing is, certainly, to go back. But--to what point?"

"That we must consider later, " said Eldrick. "Now--for the present, MissMallathorpe, --you are, I suppose, going back home?"

"Yes, at once, " answered Nesta. "I have my car at the _Crown Hotel_. "

"I should just like to know something, " continued Eldrick again, lookingat Collingwood as if for approval. "That is--Mrs. Mallathorpe's presentdisposition towards affairs in general and Pratt in particular. MissMallathorpe!--just do something which I will now suggest to you. Whenyou reach home, see your mother--she is still, I understand, an invalid, though evidently able to transact business. Just approach her gently andkindly, and tell her that you are a little--should we sayuncomfortable?--about certain business arrangements which you hear shehas made with Mr. Pratt, and ask her, if she won't talk them over withyou, and give you her full confidence. It's now half-past twelve, "continued Eldrick, looking at his watch. "You'll be home before lunch. See your mother early in the afternoon, and then telephone, briefly, theresult to me, here, at four o'clock. Then--Mr. Collingwood and I willhave a consultation. "

He motioned Collingwood to remain where he was, and himself saw Nestadown to the street. When he came back to his room he shook his head atthe young barrister. 

"Collingwood!" he said. "There's some dreadful business afloat in allthis! And it's all the worse because of the fashion in which Pratttalked to that girl. She's evidently a very good memory--she narratedthat conversation clearly and fully. Pratt must be very sure of his handif he showed her his cards in that way--his very confidence in himselfshows what a subtle network he's either made or is making. I question ifhe'd very much care if he knew that we know. But he mustn't knowthat--yet. We must reply to his mine with a counter-mine!"

"What do you think of Pratt's charge against Mrs. Mallathorpe?" askedCollingwood. 

Eldrick made a wry face. 

"Looks bad!--very, very bad, Collingwood!" he answered. "Art and schemeof a desperate woman, of course. But--we mustn't let her daughter thinkwe believe it. Let her stick to the suggestion I made--which, as youremarked, would certainly make a very good line of defence, supposingPratt even did accuse her. But now--what on earth is this documentthat's been mentioned--this paper of which Pratt has possession? HasMrs. Mallathorpe at some time committed forgery--or bigamy--or--what isit? One thing's sure, however--we've got to work quietly. We mustn't letPratt know that we're working. I hope he doesn't know that MissMallathorpe came here. Will you come back about four and hear whatmessage she sends me? After that, we could consult. "

Collingwood went away to his chambers. He was much occupied just then, and had little time to think of anything but the work in hand. But as heate his lunch at the club which he had joined on settling in Barford, hetried to get at some notion of the state of things, and once more hismind reverted to the time of his grandfather's death, and his ownsuspicions about Pratt at that period. Clearly that was a point to whichthey must hark back--he himself must make more inquiries about thecircumstances of Antony Bartle's last hours. For this affair would nothave to rest where it was--it was intolerable that Nesta Mallathorpeshould in any way be under Pratt's power. He went back to Eldrick atfour o'clock with a suggestion or two in his mind. And at the sight ofhim Eldrick shook his head. 

"I've had that telephone message from Normandale, " he said, "fiveminutes ago. Pretty much what I expected--at this juncture, anyway. Mrs. Mallathorpe absolutely declines to talk business with even her daughterat present--and earnestly desires that Mr. Linford Pratt may be leftalone. "

"Well?" asked Collingwood after a pause. "What now?"

"We must do what we can--secretly, privately, for the daughter's sake, "said Eldrick. "I confess I don't quite see a beginning, but----"

Just then the private door opened, and Pascoe, a somewhatlackadaisical-mannered man, who always looked half-asleep, and was inreality remarkably wide-awake, lounged in, nodded to Collingwood, andthrew a newspaper in front of his partner. 

"I say, Eldrick, " he drawled, as he removed a newly-lighted cigar fromhis lips. "There's an advertisement here which seems to refer to thatprecious protégé of yours, who left you with such scant ceremony. Samename, anyhow!"

Eldrick snatched up the paper, glanced at it and read a few words aloud. 

"INFORMATION WANTED about James Parrawhite, at one time in practice as asolicitor. "

CHAPTER XVII

ADVERTISEMENT

Eldrick looked up at his partner with a sharp, confirmatory glance. 

"That's our Parrawhite, of course!" he said. "Who's after him, now?" Andhe went on to read the rest of the advertisement, murmuring itsphraseology half-aloud: "'in practice as a solicitor at Nottingham andwho left that town six years ago. If the said James Parrawhite willcommunicate with the undersigned he will hear something greatly to hisadvantage. Any person able to give information as to his whereaboutswill be suitably rewarded. Apply to Halstead & Byner, 56B, St. Martin'sChambers, London, W. C. ' Um!--Pascoe, hand over that Law List. "

Collingwood looked on in silence while Eldrick turned over the pages ofthe big book which his partner took down from a shelf. He wondered atEldrick's apparent and almost eager interest. 

"Halstead & Byner are not solicitors, " announced Eldrick presently. "They must be inquiry agents or something of that sort. Anyway, I'llwrite to them, Pascoe, at once. "

"You don't know where the fellow is, " said Pascoe. "What's the good?"

"No--but we know where he last was, " retorted Eldrick. He turned toCollingwood as the junior partner sauntered out of the room. "Rather oddthat Pascoe should draw my attention to that just now, " he remarked. "This man Parrawhite was, in a certain sense, mixed up with Pratt--atleast, Pratt and I are the only two people who know the secret ofParrawhite's disappearance from these offices. That was just about thetime of your grandfather's death. "

Collingwood immediately became attentive. His first suspicions of Prattwere formed at the time of which Eldrick spoke, and any reference toevents contemporary excited his interest. 

"Who was or is--this man you're talking of?" he asked. 

"Bad lot--very!" answered Eldrick, shaking his head. "He and I werearticled together, at the same time, to the same people: we saw a lot ofeach other as fellow articled clerks. He afterwards practised inNottingham, and he held some good appointments. But he'd a perfect maniafor gambling--the turf--and he went utterly wrong, and misappropriatedclients' money, and in the end he got into prison, and was, of course, struck off the rolls. I never heard anything of him for years, and thenone day, some time ago, he turned up here and begged me to give him ajob. I did--and I'll do him the credit to say that he earned his money. But--in the end, his natural badness broke out. One afternoon--I'mcareless about some things--I left some money lying in thisdrawer--about forty pounds in notes and gold--and next morningParrawhite never came to business. We've never seen or heard of himsince. "

"You mentioned Pratt, " said Collingwood. 

"Only Pratt and I know--about the money, " replied Eldrick. "We kept itsecret--I didn't want Pascoe to know I'd been so careless. Pascoe didn'tlike Parrawhite--and he doesn't know his record. I only told him thatParrawhite was a chap I'd known in better circumstances and wanted togive a hand to. "

"You said it was about the time of my grandfather's death?" askedCollingwood. 

"It was just about then--between his death and his funeral I shouldsay, " answered Eldrick, "The two events are associated in my mind. Anyway, I'd like to know what it is that these people want Parrawhitefor. If it's money that's come to him, it'll be of no advantage--it'llonly go where all the rest's gone. "

Collingwood lost interest in Parrawhite. Parrawhite appeared to havenothing to do with the affairs in which he was interested. He sat downand began to tell Eldrick about his own suspicions of Pratt at the timeof Antony Bartle's death; of what Jabey Naylor had told him about thepaper taken from the _History of Barford_; of the lad's account of theold man's doings immediately afterwards; and of his own proceedingswhich had led him to believe for the time being that his suspicions weregroundless. 

"But now, " he went on, "a new idea occurs to me. Suppose that thatpaper, found by my grandfather in a book which had certainly belonged tothe late John Mallathorpe, was something important relating to Mrs. Mallathorpe? Suppose that my grandfather brought it across here to you?Suppose that finding you out, he showed it to Pratt? As my grandfatherdied suddenly, with nobody but Pratt there, what was there to preventPratt from appropriating that paper if he saw that it would give him ahold over Mrs. Mallathorpe? We know now that he has some document in hispossession which does give him a hold--may it not be that of which theboy Naylor told me?"

"Might be, " agreed Eldrick. "But--my opinion is, taking things alltogether, that the paper which Antony Bartle found was the one youyourself discovered later--the list of books. No--I'll tell you what Ithink. I believe that the document which Pratt told Miss Mallathorpe heholds, and to which her mother referred in the letter asking Pratt tomeet her, is probably--most probably!--one which he discovered insearching out his relationship to Mrs. Mallathorpe. He's a cutechap--and he may have found some document which--well, I'll tell youwhat it might be--something which would upset the rights of HarperMallathorpe to his uncle's estates. No other relatives came forward, orwere heard of, or were discoverable when John Mallathorpe was killed inthat chimney accident; but there may be some--there may be one inparticular. That's my notion!--and I intend, in the first place, to makea personal search of the parish registers from which Pratt got hisinformation. He may have discovered something there which he's keepingto himself. "

"You think that is the course to adopt?" asked Collingwood, after amoment's reflection. 

"At present--yes, " replied Eldrick. "And while I'm making it--I'll do itmyself--we'll just go on outwardly--as if nothing had happened. If Imeet Pratt--as I shall--I shall not let him see that I know anything. Doyou go on in just the usual way. Go out to Normandale Grange now andthen--and tell Miss Mallathorpe to think no more of her interview withPratt until we've something to talk to her about. You talk to herabout--something else. "

When Collingwood had left him Eldrick laid a telegram form on hisplotting pad, and after a brief interval of thought wrote out a messageaddressed to the people whose advertisement had attracted Pascoe'sattention. 

 "HALSTEAD & BYNER, 56B, St. Martin's Chambers, London, W. C. 

 "I can give you definite information concerning James Parrawhite if you will send representative to see me personally. 

 "CHARLES ELDRICK, Eldrick & Pascoe, Solicitors, Barford. "

After Eldrick had sent off a clerk with this message to the nearesttelegraph office, he sat thinking for some time. And at the close of hismeditations, and after some turning over of a diary which lay on hisdesk, he picked up pen and paper, and drafted an advertisement of hisown. 

 "TEN POUNDS REWARD will be paid to any person who can give reliable and useful information as to James Parrawhite, who until November last was a clerk in the employ of Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, Solicitors, Barford, and who is believed to have left the town on the evening of November 23. --Apply to Mr. CHARLES ELDRICK, of the above firm. "

"Worth risking ten pounds on--anyway, " muttered Eldrick. "Whether theseLondon people will cover it or not. Here!" he went on, turning to aclerk who had just entered the room. "Make three copies of thisadvertisement, and take one to each of the three newspaper offices, andtell 'em to put it in their personal column tonight. "

He sat musing for some time after he was left alone again, and when heat last rose, it was with a shake of the head. 

"I wonder if Pratt told me the truth that morning?" he said to himself. "Anyway, he's now being proved to be even deeper than I'd everconsidered him. Well--other folk than Pratt are possessed of pretty goodwits. "

Before he left the office that evening Eldrick was handed a telegramfrom Messrs. Halstead & Byner, of St. Martin's Chambers, informing himthat their Mr. Byner would travel to Barford by the first express nextmorning, and would call upon him at eleven o'clock. 

"Then they have some important news for Parrawhite, " mused Eldrick, ashe put the message in his pocket and went off to his club. "Inquiryagents don't set off on long journeys at a moment's notice for a matterof a trifling agency. But--where is Parrawhite?"

He awaited the arrival of Mr. Byner next morning with considerablecuriosity. And soon after eleven there was shown in to him, a smart, well-dressed, alert-looking young man, who, having introduced himself asMr. Gerald Byner, immediately plunged into business. 

"You can tell me something of James Parrawhite, Mr. Eldrick?" he began. "We shall be glad--we've been endeavouring to trace him for some months. It's odd that you didn't see our advertisement before. "

"I don't look at that sort of advertisement, " replied Eldrick. "Ibelieve it was by mere accident that my partner saw yours yesterdayafternoon. But now, a question or two first. What are you--inquiryagents?"

"Just so, sir--inquiry agents--with a touch of private detectivebusiness, " answered Mr. Gerald Byner with a smile. "We undertake to findpeople, to watch people, to recover lost property, and so on. In thiscase we're acting for Messrs. Vickers, Marshall & Hebbleton, Solicitors, of Cannon Street. They want James Parrawhite badly. "

"Why?" asked Eldrick. 

"Because, " replied Byner with a dry laugh, "there's about twentythousand pounds waiting for him, in their hands. "

Eldrick whistled with astonishment. 

"Whew!" he said. "Twenty thousand--for Parrawhite! My good sir--ifthat's so, and if, as you say, you've been advertising----"

"Advertising in several papers, " interrupted Byner. "Dailies, weeklies, provincials. Never had one reply, till your wire. "

"Then--Parrawhite must be dead!" said Eldrick. "Or--in gaol, underanother name. Twenty thousand pounds--waiting for Parrawhite! IfParrawhite was alive, man, or at liberty, he wouldn't let twentythousand pence wait five minutes! I know him!"

"What can you tell me, Mr. Eldrick?" asked the inquiry agent. 

Eldrick told all he knew--concealing nothing. And Byner listenedsilently and eagerly. 

"There's something strikes me at once, " he said. "You say that with himdisappeared three or four ten-pound notes of yours. Have you the numbersof those notes?"

"I can't say, " replied Eldrick, doubtfully. "I haven't, certainly. But--they were paid in to our head-clerk, Pratt, and I think he used toenter such things in a sort of day-ledger. I'll get it. "

He went into the clerks' office and presently returned with an oblong, marble-backed book which he began to turn over. 

"This may be what you ask about, " he said at last. "Here, under dateNovember 23, are some letters and figures which obviously refer tobank-notes. You can copy them if you like. "

"Another question, Mr. Eldrick, " remarked Byner as he made a note of theentries. "You say some cheque forms were abstracted from a book of yoursat the same time. Have you ever heard of any of these cheque forms beingmade use of?"

"Never!" replied Eldrick. 

"No forgery of your name or anything?" suggested the caller. 

"No, " said Eldrick. "There's been nothing of that sort. "

"I can soon ascertain if these bank-notes have reached the Bank ofEngland, " said Byner. "That's a simple matter. Now suppose theyhaven't!"

"Well?" asked Eldrick. 

"You know, of course, " continued Byner, "that it doesn't take long for aBank of England note, once issued, to get back to the Bank? You know, too, that it's never issued again. Now if those notes haven't beenpresented at the Bank--where are they? And if no use has been made ofyour stolen cheques--where are they?"

"Good!" agreed Eldrick. "I see that you ought to do well in your specialline of business. Now--are you going to pursue inquiries for Parrawhitehere in Barford, after what I've told you?"

"Certainly!" said Byner. "I came down prepared to stop awhile. It'shighly important that this man should be found--highly important, " headded smiling, "to other people than Parrawhite himself. "

"In what way?" asked Eldrick. 

"Why, " replied Byner, "if he's dead--as he may be--this money goes tosomebody else--a relative. The relative would be very glad to hear he isdead! But--definite news will be welcome, in any case. Oh, yes, now thatI've got down here, I shall do my best to trace him. You have theaddress of the woman he lodged with, you say. I shall go there first, ofcourse. Then I must try to find out what he did with himself in hisspare time. But, from all you tell me, it's my impression he'sdead--unless, as you say, he's got into prison again--possibly underanother name. It seems impossible that he should not have seen ouradvertisements. "

"You never advertised in any Yorkshire newspapers?" asked Eldrick. 

"No, " said Byner. "Because we'd no knowledge of his having come so farNorth. We advertised in the Midland papers. But then, all the Londonpapers, daily and weekly, that we used come down to Yorkshire. "

"Parrawhite, " said Eldrick reflectively, "was a big newspaper reader. Heused to go to the Free Library reading-room a great deal. I begin tothink he must certainly be dead--or locked up. However, in supplement ofyour endeavours, I did a little work of my own last night. There youare!" he went on, picking up the local papers and handing them over. "Iput that in--we'll see if any response comes. But now a word, Mr. Byner, since you've come to me. You have heard me mention my lateclerk--Pratt?"

"Yes, " answered Byner. 

"Pratt has left us, and is in business as a sort of estate agent in thenext street, " continued Eldrick. "Now I have particular reasons--mostparticular reasons!--why Pratt should remain in absolute ignorance ofyour presence in the town. If you should happen to come across him--asyou may, for though there are a quarter of a million of us here, it's asmall place, compared with London--don't let him know your business. "

"I'm not very likely to do that, Mr. Eldrick, " remarked Byner quietly. 

"Aye, but you don't take my meaning, " said Eldrick eagerly. "I meanthis--it's just possible that Pratt may see that advertisement of yours, and that he may write to your firm. In that case, as he's here, andyou're here, your partner would send his letter to you. Don't deal withit--here. Don't--if you should come across Pratt, even let him know yourname!"

"When I've a job of this sort, " replied Byner, "I don't let anybody knowmy name--except people like you. When I register at one of your hotelspresently, I shall be Mr. Black of London. But--if this Pratt wanted togive any information about Parrawhite, he'd give it to you, surely, nowthat you've advertised. "

"No, he wouldn't!" asserted Eldrick. "Why? Because he's told me all heknows--or says he knows--already!"

The inquiry agent looked keenly at the solicitor for a moment duringwhich they both kept silence. Then Byner smiled. 

"You said--'or says he knows, '" he remarked. "Do you think he didn'ttell the truth about Parrawhite?"

"I should say--now--it's quite likely he didn't, " answered Eldrick. "Thetruth is, I'm making some inquiry myself about Pratt--and I don't wantthis to interfere with it. You keep me informed of what you find out, and I'll help you all I can while you're here. It may be----"

A clerk came into the room and looked at his master. 

"Mr. George Pickard, of the _Green Man_ at Whitcliffe, sir, " he said. 

"Well?" asked Eldrick. 

"Wants to see you about that advertisement in the paper this morning, sir, " continued the clerk. 

Eldrick looked at Byner and smiled significantly. Then he turned towardsthe door. 

"Bring Mr. Pickard in, " he said. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CONFIDING LANDLORD

The clerk presently ushered in a short, thick-set, round-faced man, apparently of thirty to thirty-five years of age, whose chief personalcharacteristics lay in a pair of the smallest eyes ever set in a humancountenance and a mere apology for a nose. But both nose and eyescombined somehow to communicate an idea of profound inquiry as the roundface in which they were placed turned from the solicitor to the man fromLondon, and a podgy forefinger was lifted to a red forehead. 

"Servant, gentlemen, " said the visitor. "Fine morning for the time ofyear!"

"Take a chair, Mr. Pickard, " replied Eldrick. "Let me see--from the_Green Man_, at Whitcliffe, I believe?"

"Landlord, sir--had that house a many years, " answered Pickard, as hetook a seat near the wall. "Seven year come next Michaelmas, any road. "

"Just so--and you want to see me about the advertisement in thismorning's paper?" continued Eldrick. "What about it--now?"

The landlord looked at Eldrick and then at Eldrick's companion. Thesolicitor understood that look: it meant that what his caller had to saywas of a private nature. 

"It's all right, Mr. Pickard, " he remarked reassuringly. "This gentlemanis here on just the same business--whatever you say will be treated asconfidential--it'll go no further. You've something to tell about mylate clerk, James Parrawhite. "

Pickard, who had been nervously fingering a white billycock hat, now putit down on the floor and thrust his hands into the pockets of histrousers as if to keep them safe while he talked. 

"It's like this here, " he answered. "When I saw that there advertisementin the paper this mornin', says I to my missus, 'I'll away, ' I says, 'an' see Lawyer Eldrick about that there, this very day!' 'Cause yousee, Mr. Eldrick, there is summat as I can tell about yon man 'at youmention--James Parrawhite. I've said nowt about it to nobody, up to now, 'cause it were private business atween him and me, as it were, but Ilost money over it, and of course, ten pound is ten pound, gentlemen. "

"Quite so, " agreed Eldrick, "And you shall have your ten pounds if youcan tell anything useful. "

"I don't know owt about it's being useful, sir, nor what use is to bemade on it, " said Pickard, "but I can tell you a bit o' truth, and youcan do what you like wi' what I tell. But, " he went on, lowering hisvoice and glancing at the door by which he had just entered, "there'sanother name 'at 'll have to be browt in--private, like. Name, as it sohappens, o' one o' your clerks--t' head clerk, I'm given tounderstand--Mr. Pratt. "

Eldrick showed no sign of surprise. But he continued to looksignificantly at Byner as he turned to the landlord. 

"Mr. Pratt has left me, " he said. "Left me three weeks ago. So youneedn't be afraid, Mr. Pickard--say anything you like. "

"Oh, I didn't know, " remarked Pickard. "It's not oft that I come down int' town, and we don't hear much Barford news up our way. Well, it's thishere, Mr. Eldrick--you know where my place is, of course?"

Eldrick nodded, and turned to Byner. 

"I'd better explain to you, " he said. "Whitcliffe is an outlying part ofthe town, well up the hills--a sort of wayside hamlet with a lot of ourfamous stone quarries in its vicinity. The _Green Man_, of which ourfriend here is the landlord, is an old-fashioned tavern by theroadside--where people are rather fond of dropping in on a Sunday, Ifancy, eh, Mr. Pickard?"

"You're right, sir, " replied the landlord. "It makes a nice walk out ona Sunday. And it were on a Sunday, too, 'at I got to know this hereJames Parrawhite as you want to know summat about. He began coming to myplace of a Sunday evenin', d'ye see, gentlemen?--he'd walk across t'valley up there to Whitcliffe and stop an hour or two, enjoyin' hisself. Well, now, as you're no doubt well aweer, Mr. Eldrick, he were a reighthand at talkin', were yon Parrawhite--he'd t' gift o' t' gab reightenough, and talked well an' all. And of course him an' me, we hed bitso' conversation at times, 'cause he come to t' house reg'lar andsometimes o' week-nights an' all. An' he tell'd me 'at he'd had a dealo' experience i' racin' matters--whether it were true or not, I couldn'tsay, but----"

"True enough!" said Eldrick. "He had. "

"Well, so he said, " continued Pickard, "and he was allus tellin' me 'athe could make a pile o' brass on t' turf if he only had capital. An' i't' end, he persuaded me to start what he called investin' money with himi' that way--i' plain language, it meant givin' him brass to put onhorses 'at he said was goin' to win, d'ye understand?"

"Perfectly, " replied Eldrick. "You gave him various amounts which he wasto stake for you. "

"Just so, sir! And at first, " said Pickard, with a shake of the head, "at first I'd no great reason to grumble. He cert'ny wor a good hand atspottin' a winner. But as time went on, I' t' greatest difficulty ingettin' a settlement wi' him, d'ye see? He wor just as good a hand atmakin' excuses as he wor at pickin' out winners--better, I think! Inivver knew wheer I was wi' him--he'd pay up, and then he'd persuade meto go in for another do wi' t' brass I'd won, and happen we should losethat time, and then of course we had to hev another investment to getback what we'd dropped, and so it went on. But t' end wor thishere--last November theer wor about fifty to sixty pound o' mine i' hishands, and I wanted it. I'd a spirit merchant's bill to settle, and Iwanted t' brass badly for that. I knew Parrawhite had been paid, d'yesee, by t' turf agent, 'at he betted wi', and I plagued him to hand t'brass over to me. He made one excuse and then another--howsumivver, itcome to that very day you're talkin' about i' your advertisement, Mr. Eldrick--the twenty-third o' November----"

"Stop a minute, Mr. Pickard, " interrupted Eldrick. "Now, how do youknow--for a certainty--that this day you're going to talk about was thetwenty-third of November?"

The landlord, who had removed his hands from his pockets, and was nowtwiddling a pair of fat thumbs as he talked, chuckled slyly. 

"For a very good reason, " he answered. "I had to pay that spirit bill Itell'd about just now on t' twenty-fourth, and that I'm going to tellyou happened t' night afore t' twenty-fourth, so of course it were t'twenty-third. D'ye see?"

"I see, " asserted Eldrick. "That'll do! And now--what did happen?"

"This here, " replied Pickard. "On that night--t' twenty-thirdNovember--Parrawhite came into t' _Green Man_ at about, happen, half-past eight. He come into t' little private parlour to me, bold asbrass--as indeed, he allers wor. 'Ye're a nice un!' I says. 'I'vewritten yer three letters durin' t' last week, and ye've nivver answeredone o' 'em!' 'I've come to answer i' person, ' he says. 'There's nobbutone answer I want, ' says I. 'Wheer's my money?' 'Now then, be quiet abit, ' he says. 'You shall have your money before the evening's over, ' hesays. 'Or, if not, as soon as t' banks is open tomorrow mornin', ' hesays. 'Wheer's it coomin' from?' says I. 'Now, never you mind, ' he says. 'It's safe!' 'I don't believe a word you're sayin', ' says I. 'Ye'rehavin' me for t' mug!--that's about it. ' An' I went on so at him, 'at i't' end he tell'd me 'at he wor presently goin' to meet Pratt, and 'at hecould get t' brass out o' Pratt an' as much more as iwer he liked to axfor. Well, I don't believe that theer, and I said so. 'What brass hasPratt?' says I. 'Pratt's nowt but a clerk, wi' happen three or fourpound a week!' 'That's all you know, ' he says. 'Pratt's become a goldmine, and I'm going to dig in it a bit. What's it matter to you, ' hesays, 'so long as you get your brass?' Well, of course, that wor trueenough--all 'at I wanted just then were to handle my brass. And I tell'dhim so. 'I'll brek thy neck, Parrawhite, ' I says, 'if thou doesn't bringme that theer money eyther to-night or t' first thing tomorrow--so now!''Don't talk rot!' he says. 'I've told you!' And he had money wi' himthen--'nough to pay for drinks and cigars, any road, and we had a drinkor two, and a smoke or two, and then he went out, sayin' he wor goin' tomeet Pratt, and he'd be back at my place before closin' time wi' eithert' cash or what 'ud be as good. An' I waited--and waited after closin'time, an' all. But I've nivver seen Parrawhite from that day tothis---nor heerd tell on him neither!"

Eldrick and Byner looked at each other for a moment. Then the solicitorspoke--quietly and with a significance which the agent understood. 

"Do you want to ask Mr. Pickard any questions?" he said. 

Byner nodded and turned to the landlord. 

"Did Parrawhite tell you where he was going to meet Pratt?" he asked. 

"He did, " replied Pickard. "Near Pratt's lodgin' place. "

"Did--or does--Pratt live near you, then?"

"Closish by--happen ten minutes' walk. There's few o' houses--a sort o'terrace, like, on t' edge o' what they call Whitcliffe Moor. Prattlodged--lodges now for all I know to t' contrary--i' one o' them. "

"Did Parrawhite give you any idea that he was going to the house inwhich Pratt lodged?"

"No! He were not goin' to t' house. I know he worn't. He tell'd me 'athe'd a good idea what time Pratt 'ud be home, 'cause he knew where hewas that evening and he were goin' to meet him just afore Pratt got tohis place. I know where he'd meet him. "

"Where?" asked Byner. "Tell me exactly. It's important. "

"Pratt 'ud come up fro' t' town i' t' tram, " answered Pickard. "He'dapproach this here terrace I tell'd you about by a narrow lane that runsoff t' high road. He'd meet him there, would Parrawhite. "

"Did you ever ask any question of Pratt about Parrawhite?"

"No--never! I'd no wish that Pratt should know owt about my dealin'swith Parrawhite. When Parrawhite never come back--why, I kep' it all tomyself, till now. "

"What do you think happened to Parrawhite, Mr. Pickard?" asked Byner. 

"Gow, I know what I think!" replied Pickard disgustedly. "I think 'at ifhe did get any brass out o' Pratt--which is what I know nowt about, andhewn't much belief in--he went straight away fro' t' town--vanished! Ido know this--he nivver went back to his lodgin's that neet, 'cause Iwent theer mysen next day to inquire. "

Eldrick pricked up his ears at that. He remembered that he had sentPratt to make inquiry at Parrawhite's lodgings on the morning whereonthe money was missing. 

"What time of the day--on the twenty-fourth--was that, Mr. Pickard?" heasked. 

"Evenin', sir, " replied the landlord. "They'd nivver seen naught of himsince he went out the day before. Oh, he did me, did Parrawhite! Ofcourse, I lost mi brass--fifty odd pounds!"

Byner gave Eldrick a glance. 

"I think Mr. Pickard has earned the ten pounds you offered, " he said. 

Eldrick took the hint and pulled out his cheque-book. 

"Of course, you're to keep all this private--strictly private, Mr. Pickard, " he said as he wrote. "Not a word to a soul!"

"Just as you order, sir, " agreed Pickard. "I'll say nowt--to nobody. "

"And--perhaps tomorrow--perhaps this afternoon--you'll see me at the_Green Man_, " remarked Byner. "I shall just drop in, you know. Youneedn't know me--if there's anybody about. "

"All right, sir--I understand, " said Pickard. 

"Quiet's the word--what? Very good--much obliged to you, gentlemen. "

When the landlord had gone Eldrick motioned Byner to pick up his hat. "Come across the street with me, " he said. "I want us to have aconsultation with a friend of mine, a barrister, Mr. Collingwood. Forthis matter is assuming a very queer aspect, and we can't move toowarily, nor consider all the features too thoroughly. "

Collingwood listened with deep interest to Eldrick's account of themorning's events. And once again he was struck by the fact that allthese various happenings in connection with Pratt, and now withParrawhite, took place at the time of Antony Bartle's death, and he saidso. 

"True enough!" agreed Eldrick. 

"And once more, " pointed out Collingwood. "We're hearing of a hold!Pratt claims to have a hold on Mrs. Mallathorpe--now it turns out thatParrawhite boasted of a hold on Pratt. Suppose all these things have acommon origin? Suppose the hold which Parrawhite had--or has--on Prattis part and parcel of the hold which Pratt has on Mrs. Mallathorpe? Inthat case--or cases--what is the best thing to do?"

"Will you gentlemen allow me to suggest something?" said Byner. "Verywell--find Parrawhite! Of all the people concerned in this, Parrawhite, from your account of him, anyway, Mr. Eldrick, is the likeliest personto extract the truth from. "

"There's a great deal in that suggestion, " said Eldrick. "Do you knowwhat I think?" he went on, turning to Collingwood, "Mr. Byner tells mehe means to stay here until he has come across some satisfactory news ofParrawhite or solved the mystery of his disappearance. Well, now thatwe've found that there is some ground for believing that Parrawhite wasin some fashion mixed up with Pratt about that time, why not place thewhole thing in Mr. Byner's hands--let him in any case see what he can doabout the Parrawhite-Pratt business of November twenty-third, eh?"

"I take it, " answered Collingwood, looking at the inquiry agent, "thatMr. Byner having heard what he has, would do that quite apart from us?"

"Yes, " said Byner. "Now that I've heard what Pickard had to say, Icertainly shall follow that up. "

"I am following out something of my own, " said Collingwood, turning toEldrick. "I shall know more by this time tomorrow. Let us have aconference here--at noon. "

They separated on that understanding, and Byner went his own ways. Hisfirst proceeding was to visit, one after another, the Barford newspaperoffices, and to order the insertion in large type, and immediately, ofthe Halstead-Byner advertisement for news of Parrawhite. His second wasto seek the General Post Office, where he wrote out and dispatched amessage to his partner in London. That message was in cypher--translatedinto English, it read as follows:--

 "If person named Pratt sends any communication to us _re_ Parrawhite, on no account let him know I am in Barford, but forward whatever he sends to me at once, addressed to H. D. Black, Central Station Hotel. "

CHAPTER XIX

THE EYE-WITNESS

When Collingwood said that he was following out something of his own, hewas thinking of an interesting discovery which he had made. It was onewhich might have no significance in relation to the presentperplexities--on the other hand, out of it might come a good deal ofillumination. Briefly, it was that on the evening before thisconsultation with Eldrick & Byner, he had found out that he was livingin the house of a man who had actually witnessed the famous catastropheat Mallathorpe's Mill, whereby John Mallathorpe, his manager, and hiscashier, together with some other bystanders, had lost their lives. 

On settling down in Barford, Collingwood had spent a couple of weeks inlooking about him for comfortable rooms of a sort that appealed to hislove of quiet and retirement. He had found them at last in an old houseon the outskirts of the town--a fine old stone house, once a farmstead, set in a large garden, and tenanted by a middle-aged couple, who havingfar more room than they needed for themselves, had no objection toletting part of it to a business gentleman. Collingwood fell in lovewith this place as soon as he saw it. The rooms were large and full ofdelightful nooks and corners; the garden was rich in old trees; from itthere were fine views of the valley beneath, and the heather-clad hillsin the distance; within two miles of the town and easily approached by aconvenient tram-route, it was yet quite out in the country. 

He was just as much set up by his landlady--a comfortable, middle-agedwoman, who fostered true Yorkshire notions about breakfast, and knew howto cook a good dinner at night. With her Collingwood had soon come toterms, and to his new abode had transferred a quantity of books andpictures from London. He soon became acquainted with the domesticmenage. There was the landlady herself, Mrs. Cobcroft, who, having nochildren of her own, had adopted a niece, now grown up, and a teacher inan adjacent elementary school: there was a strapping, rosy-cheekedservant-maid, whose dialect was too broad for the lodger to understandmore than a few words of it; finally there was Mr. Cobcroft, amild-mannered, quiet man who disappeared early in the morning, and wassometimes seen by Collingwood returning home in the evening. 

Lately, with the advancing spring, this unobtrusive individual was seenabout the garden at the end of the day: Collingwood had so seen him onthe evening before the talk with Eldrick and Byner, busied in settingseeds in the flower-beds. And he had asked Mrs. Cobcroft, just then inhis sitting-room, if her husband was fond of gardening. 

"It's a nice change for him, sir, " answered the landlady. "He's keptpretty close at it all day in the office yonder at Mallathorpe's Mill, and it does him good to get a bit o' fresh air at nights, now that thefine weather's coming on. That was one reason why we took this oldplace--it's a deal better air here nor what it is in the town. "

"So your husband is at Mallathorpe's Mill, eh?" asked Collingwood. 

"Been there--in the counting-house--boy and man, over thirty years, sir, " replied Mrs. Cobcroft. 

"Did he see that terrible affair then--was it two years ago?"

The landlady shook her head and let out a weighty sigh. 

"Aye, I should think he did!" she answered. "And a nice shock it gavehim, too!--he actually saw that chimney fall--him and another clerk werelooking out o' the counting-house window when it gave way. "

Collingwood said no more then--except to remark that such a sight mustindeed have been trying to the nerves. But for purposes of his own hedetermined to have a talk with Cobcroft, and the next evening, seeinghim in his garden again, he went out to him and got into conversation, and eventually led up to the subject of Mallathorpe's Mill, the newchimney of which could be seen from a corner of the garden. 

"Your wife tells me, " observed Collingwood, "that you were present whenthe old chimney fell at the mill yonder?"

Cobcroft, a quiet, unassuming man, usually of few words, looked alongthe hillside at the new chimney, and nodded his head. A curious, far-away look came into his eyes. 

"I was, sir!" he said. "And I hope I may never see aught o' that sortagain, as long as ever I live. It was one o' those things a man cannever forget!"

"Don't talk about it if you don't want to, " remarked Collingwood. "ButI've heard so much about that affair that----"

"Oh, I don't mind talking about it, " replied Cobcroft. He leaned overthe fence of his garden, still gazing at the mill in the distance. "There were others that saw it, of course: lots of 'em. But I was closeat hand--our office was filled with the dust in a few seconds. "

"It was a sudden affair?" asked Collingwood. 

"It was one of those affairs, " answered Cobcroft slowly, "that some folkhad been expecting for a long time--only nobody had the sense to seethat it might happen at some unexpected minute. It was a very oldchimney. It looked all right--stood plumb, and all that. But Mr. Mallathorpe--my old master, Mr. John Mallathorpe, I'm talking of--he gotan idea from two or three little things, d'ye see, that it wasn't assafe as it ought to be. And he got a couple of these professionalsteeplejacks to examine it. They made a thorough examination, too--sofar as one could tell by what they did. They'd been at the job severaldays when the accident happened. One of 'em had only just come down whenthe chimney fell. Mr. Mallathorpe, himself, and his manager, and hiscashier, had just stepped out of the counting-house and crossed the yardto hear what this man had got to say when--down it came! Not theslightest warning at the time. It just--collapsed!"

"You saw the actual collapse?" asked Collingwood. 

"Aye--didn't I?" exclaimed Cobcroft. "Another man and myself werelooking out of the office window, right opposite. It fell in thequeerest way--like this, " he went on, holding up his garden-rake. "Supposing this shaft was the chimney--standing straight up. As welooked we saw it suddenly bulge out, on all sides--it was a squarechimney, same size all the way up till you got to the cornice at thetop--bulge out, d'ye see, just about half-way up--simultaneous, like. Then--down it came with a roar that they heard over half the town! O'course, there were some two or three thousands of tons of stuff in thatchimney--and when the dust was cleared a bit there it was in one greatheap, right across the yard. And it was a good job, " concluded Cobcroft, reflectively, "that it fell straight--collapsed in itself, as you mightsay--for if it had fallen slanting either way, it 'ud ha' smashed rightthrough some of the sheds, and there'd ha' been a terrible loss oflife. "

"Mr. John Mallathorpe was killed on the spot, I believe?" suggestedCollingwood. 

"Aye--and Gaukrodger, and Marshall, and the steeplejack that had justcome down, and another or two, " said Cobcroft. "They'd no chance--theywere standing in a group at the very foot, talking. They were all killedthere and then--instantaneous. Some others were struck and injured--oneor two died. Yes, sir, --I'm not very like to forget that!"

"A terrible experience!" agreed Collingwood. "It would naturally fixitself on your memory. "

"Aye--my memory's very keen about it, " said Cobcroft. "I remember everydetail of that morning. And, " he continued, showing a desire to becomereminiscent, "there was something happened that morning, before theaccident, that I've oft thought over and has oft puzzled me. I've neversaid aught to anybody about it, because we Yorkshiremen we're not givento talking about affairs that don't concern us, and after all, it wasnone o' mine! But you're a law gentleman, and I dare say you get thingstold to you in confidence now and then, and, of course, this is betweenyou and me. I'll not deny that I have oft thought that I would like totell it to a lawyer of some sort, and find out how it struck him. "

"Anything that you like to tell me, Mr. Cobcroft, I shall treat as amatter of confidence--until you tell me it's no longer a secret, "answered Collingwood. 

"Why, " continued Cobcroft, "it isn't what you rightly would call asecret--though I don't think anybody knows aught about it but myself! Itwas just this--and it may be there's naught in it but a mere fancy o'mine. That morning, before the accident happened, I was in and out ofthe private office a good deal--carrying in and out letters, and accountbooks, and so on. Mr. John Mallathorpe's private office, ye'llunderstand, sir, opened out of our counting-house--as it does still--thepresent manager, Mr. Horsfall, has it, just as it was. Well, now, on oneoccasion, when I went in there, to take a ledger back to the safe, Mr. Mallathorpe had his manager and cashier, Gaukrodger and Marshall in withhim. Mr. Mallathorpe, he always used a stand-up desk to write at--neverwrote sitting down, though he had a big desk in the middle of the roomthat he used to sit at to look over accounts or talk to people. Now whenI went in, he and Gaukrodger and Marshall were all at this stand-updesk--in the window-place--and they were signing some papers. At leastGaukrodger had just signed a paper, and Marshall was taking the pen fromhim. 'Sign there, Marshall, ' says Mr. Mallathorpe. And then he went on, 'Now we'll sign this other--it's well to have these things in duplicate, in case one gets lost. ' And then--well, then, I went out, and--why, thatwas all. "

"You've some idea in your mind about that, " said Collingwood, who hadwatched Cobcroft closely as he talked. "What is it?"

Cobcroft smiled--and looked round as if to ascertain that they werealone. "Why!" he answered in a low voice. "I'll tell you what I didwonder--some time afterwards. I dare say you're aware--it was all in thepapers--that Mr. John Mallathorpe died intestate?"

"Yes, " asserted Collingwood. "I know that. "

"I've oft wondered, " continued Cobcroft, "if that could ha' been hiswill that they were signing! But then I reflected a bit on matters. Andthere were two or three things that made me say naught at all--not aword. First of all, I considered it a very unlikely thing that a richman like Mr. John Mallathorpe would make a will for himself. Second--Iremembered that very soon after I'd been in his private office Marshallcame out into the counting-house and gave the office lad a lot ofletters and documents to take to the post--some of 'em bigenvelopes--and I thought that what I'd seen signed was some agreement orother that was in one of them. And third--and most important--no willwas ever found in any of Mr. John Mallathorpe's drawers or safes oranywhere, though they turned things upside down at the office, and, Iheard, at his house as well. Of course, you see, sir, supposing that tohave been a will--why, the only two men who could possibly have provedit was were dead and gone! They were killed with him. And of course, theyoung people, the nephew and niece, they came in for everything--sothere was an end of it. But--I've oft wondered what those papers were. One thing is certain, anyway!" concluded Cobcroft, with a grim laugh, "when those three signed 'em, they were picking up their pens for thelast time!"

"How long was it--after you saw the signing of those papers--that theaccident occurred?" asked Collingwood. 

"It 'ud be twelve or fifteen minutes, as near as I can recollect, "replied Cobcroft. "A few minutes after I'd left the private office, Gaukrodger came out of it, alone, and stood at the door leading into theyard, looking up at the chimney. The steeple-jack was just coming down, and his mate was waiting for him at the bottom. Gaukrodger turned backto the private office and called Mr. Mallathorpe out. All three of 'em, Mallathorpe, Gaukrodger, Marshall, went out and walked across the yardto the chimney foot. They stood there talking a bit--and then--down itcame!"

Collingwood thought matters over. Supposing that the document whichCobcroft spoke of as being in process of execution before him wereindeed duplicate copies of a will. What could have been done with them, in the few minutes which elapsed between the signing and the catastropheto the chimney? It was scarcely likely that John Mallathorpe would havesent them away by post. If they had been deposited in his own pocket, they would have been found when his clothing was removed and examined. If they were in the private office when the three men left it----

"You're sure the drawers, safe and so on in Mr. Mallathorpe's room werethoroughly searched--after his death?" he asked. 

"I should think they were!" answered Cobcroft laconically. "I helped atthat, myself. There wasn't as much as an old invoice that was not wellfingered and turned over. No!--I came to the conclusion that what I'dseen signed was some contract or something--sent off there and then bythe lad to post. "

Collingwood made no further remark and asked no more questions. But hethought long and seriously that night, and he came to certainconclusions. First: what Cobcroft had seen signed was John Mallathorpe'swill. Second: John Mallathorpe had made it himself and had taken theunusual course of making a duplicate copy. Third: John Mallathorpe hadprobably slipped the copy into the _History of Barford_ which was in hisprivate office when he went out to speak to the steeple-jack. Fourth:that copy had come into Linford Pratt's hands through Antony Bartle. 

And now arose two big questions. What were the terms of that will?And--where was the duplicate copy? He was still putting these to himselfwhen noon of the next day came and brought Eldrick and Byner for thepromised serious consultation. 

CHAPTER XX

THE _GREEN MAN_

Byner, in taking his firm's advertisement for Parrawhite to the threeBarford newspaper offices, had done so with a special design--he wantedPratt to see that a serious wish to discover Parrawhite was alive inmore quarters than one. He knew that Pratt was almost certain to seeEldrick's advertisement in his own name; now he wanted Pratt to seeanother advertisement of the same nature in another name. Already he hadsome suspicion that Pratt had not told Eldrick the truth aboutParrawhite, and that nothing would suit him so well as that Parrawhiteshould never be heard of or mentioned again: now he wished Pratt tolearn that Parrawhite was much wanted, and was likely to be muchmentioned--wherefore the supplementary advertisements with Halstead &Byner's name attached. It was extremely unlikely that Pratt could failto see those advertisements. 

There were three newspapers in Barford: one a morning journal of largecirculation throughout the county; the other two, evening journals, which usually appeared in three or four editions. As Byner stipulatedfor large type, and a prominent position, in the personal column ofeach, it was scarcely within the bounds of probability that a townsmanlike Pratt would miss seeing the advertisement. Most likely he would seeit in all three newspapers. And if he had also seen Eldrick's similaradvertisement, he would begin to think, and then----

"Why, then, " mused Byner, ruminating on his design, "then we will seewhat he will do!"

Meanwhile, there was something he himself wanted to do, and on themorning following his arrival in the town, he set out to do it. Bynerhad been much struck by Pickard's account of his dealings with JamesParrawhite on the evening which appeared to be the very last whereinParrawhite was ever seen. He had watched the landlord of the _Green Man_closely as he told his story, and had set him down for an honest, ifsomewhat sly and lumpish soul, who was telling a plain tale to the bestof his ability. Byner believed all the details of that story--he evenbelieved that when Parrawhite told Pickard that he would find him fiftypounds that evening, or early next day, he meant to keep his word. Inthe circumstances--as far as Byner could reckon them up from what he hadgathered--it would not have paid Parrawhite to do otherwise. Byner putthe situation to himself in this fashion--Pratt had got hold of somesecret which was being, or could be made to be, highly profitable tohim. Parrawhite had discovered this, and was in a position to blackmailPratt. Therefore Parrawhite would not wish to leave Pratt'sneighbourhood--so long as there was money to be got out of Pratt, Parrawhite would stick to him like a leech. But if Parrawhite was toabide peaceably in Barford, he must pay Pickard that little matter ofbetween fifty and sixty pounds. Accordingly, in Byner's opinion, Parrawhite had every honest intention of returning to the _Green Man_ onthe evening of the twenty-third of November after having seen Pratt. And, in Byner's further--and very seriously considered--opinion, thewhole problem for solution--possibly involving the solution of other andmore important problems--was this: Did Parrawhite meet Pratt that night, and if he did what took place between them which prevented Parrawhitefrom returning to Pickard?

It was in an endeavour to get at some first stage of a solution of thisproblem that Byner, having breakfasted at the _Central Hotel_ on hissecond day in the town, went out immediately afterwards, asked his wayto Whitcliffe, and was directed to an electric tram which started fromthe Town Hall Square, and after running through a district of tallwarehouses and squat weaving-sheds, began a long and steady climb to theheights along the town. When he left it, he found himself in a districteminently characteristic of that part of the country. The tram set himdown at a cross-roads on a high ridge of land. Beneath him lay Barford, its towers and spires and the gables of its tall buildings showingamongst the smoke of its many chimneys. All about him lay open ground, broken by the numerous stone quarries of which Eldrick had spoken, andat a little distance along one of the four roads at the intersection ofwhich he stood, he saw a few houses and cottages, one of which, tallerand bigger than the rest, was distinguished by a pole, planted in frontof its stone porch and bearing a swinging sign whereon was rudelypainted the figure of a man in Lincoln green. Byner walked on to this, entered a flagged hall, and found himself confronting Pickard, who atsight of him, motioned him into a little parlour behind the bar. 

"Mornin', mister, " said he. "You'll be all right in here--there's nobodyabout just now, and if my missis or any o' t' servant lasses sees yer, they'll tak' yer for a brewer's traveller, or summat o' that sort. Cometo hev a look round, like--what?"

"I want to have a look at the place where you told us Parrawhite was tomeet Pratt that night, " replied Byner. "I thought you would perhaps bekind enough to show me where it is. "

"I will, an' all--wi' pleasure, " said the landlord, "but ye mun hev adrop o' summat first--try a glass o' our ale, " he went on, with trueYorkshire hospitality. "I hev some bitter beer i' my cellar such as I'lllay owt ye couldn't get t' likes on down yonder i' Barford--no, nor i'London neyther!--I'll just draw a jug. "

Byner submitted to this evidence of friendliness, and Pickard, afterdisappearing into a dark archway and down some deeply worn stone steps, came back with a foaming jug, the sight of which seemed to give himgreat delight. He gazed admiringly at the liquor which he presentlypoured into two tumblers, and drew his visitor's attention to itscolour. 

"Reight stuff that, mister--what?" he said. "I nobbut tapped that barriltwo days since, and I'd been keepin' it twelve month, so you've come infor it at what they call t' opportune moment. I say!" he went on, afterpledging Byner and smacking his lips over the ale. "I heard summat lastnight 'at might be useful to you and Lawyer Eldrick--about this hereParrawhite affair. "

"Oh!" said Byner, at once interested. "What now?"

"You'll ha' noticed, as you come along t' road just now, 'at there's adeal o' stone quarries i' this neighbourhood?" replied Pickard. "Well, now, of course, some o' t' quarry men comes in here. Last night theerwor sev'ral on 'em i' t' bar theer, talkin', and one on 'em wor readin't' evenin' newspaper--t' _Barford Dispatch_. An' he read out that theeradvertisement about Parrawhite--wi' your address i' London at t' foot onit. Well, theer wor nowt said, except summat about advertisin' fordisappeared folk, but later on, one o' t' men, a young man, come to me, private like. 'I say, Pickard, ' he says, 'between you an' me, worrn't t'name o' that man 'at used to come in here on a Sunday sometimes, Parrawhite? It runs a' my mind, ' he says, ''at I've heerd you call himby that name. ' 'Well, an' what if it wor?' I says. 'Nay, nowt much, ' hesays, 'but I see fro' t' _Dispatch_ 'at he's wanted, and I could tell abit about him, ' he says. 'What could ye tell?' says I--just like thattheer. 'Why, ' he says, 'this much--one night t' last back-end----'"

"Stop a bit, Mr. Pickard, " interrupted Byner. "What does that mean--thatterm 'back-end'?"

"Why, it means t' end o' t' year!" answered the landlord. "What somefolks call autumn, d'ye understand? 'One night t' last back-end, ' saysthis young fellow, 'I wor hengin' about on t' quiet at t' end o' Stubbs'Lane, ' he says: 'T' truth wor, ' he says, 'I wor waitin' for a word wi' ayoung woman 'at lives i' that terrace at t' top o' Stubbs' Lane--she worgoin' to come out and meet me for half an hour or so. An, ' he says, 'Isee'd that theer feller 'at I think I've heerd you call Parrawhite, comeout o' Stubbs' Lane wi' that lawyer chap 'at lives i' t' Terrace--Pratt. I know Pratt, ' he says, ''cause them 'at he works for--Eldricks--oncedid a bit o' law business for me. ' 'Where did you see 'em go to, then?'says I. 'I see'd 'em cross t' road into t' owd quarry ground, ' he says. 'I see'd 'em plain enough, tho' they didn't see me--I wor keepin' snugagen 't wall--it wor a moonlit night, that, ' he says. 'Well, ' I says, 'an' what now?' 'Why, ' he says, 'd'yer think I could get owt o' thisreward for tellin that theer?' So I thowt pretty sharp then, d'ye see, mister. 'I'll tell yer what, mi lad, ' I says. 'Say nowt to nobody--keepyour tongue still--and I'll tell ye tomorrow night what ye can do--Ishall see a man 'at's on that job 'tween now and then, ' I says. So theerit is, " concluded Pickard, looking hard at Byner. "D'yer think thischap's evidence 'ud be i' your line?"

"Decidedly I do!" replied Byner. "Where is he to be found?"

"I couldn't say wheer he lives, " answered the landlord. "But it'll besomewhere close about; anyway, he'll be in here tonight. Bill Thomson t'feller's name is--decent young feller enough. "

"I must contrive to see him, certainly, " said Byner. "Well, now, can youshow me this Stubbs' Lane and the neighbourhood?"

"Just step along t' road a bit and I'll join you in a few o' minutes, "assented Pickard. "We'd best not be seen leavin t' house together, orour folk'll think it's a put-up job. Walk forrard a piece. "

Byner strolled along the road a little way, and leaned over a wall untilMr. Pickard, wearing his white billycock hat and accompanied by a finefox-terrier, lounged up with his thumbs in the armholes of hiswaistcoat. Together they went a little further along. 

"Now then!" said the landlord, crossing the road towards the entrance ofa narrow lane which ran between two high stone walls. "This here isStubbs' Lane--so called, I believe, 'cause an owd gentleman namedsimilar used to hev a house here 'at's been pulled down. Ye see, it runsup fro' this high-road towards yon terrace o' houses. Folks hereaboutscalls that terrace t' World's End, 'cause they're t' last houses aforeye get on to t' open moorlands. Now, that night 'at Parrawhite woraimin' to meet Pratt, it wor i' this very lane. Pratt, when he left t'tram-car, t' other side o' my place, 'ud come up t' road, and up thislane. And it wor at t' top o' t' lane 'at Bill Thomson see'd Pratt andParrawhite cross into what Bill called t' owd quarry ground. "

"Can we go into that?" asked Byner. 

"Nowt easier!" said Pickard. "It's a sort of open space where t' childergoes and plays about: they hev'n't worked no stone theer for many a longyear--all t' stone's exhausted, like. "

He led Byner along the lane to its further end, pointed out the placewhere Thomson said he had seen Pratt and Parrawhite, and indicated theterrace of houses in which Pratt lived. Then he crossed towards the oldquarries. 

"Don't know what they should want to come in here for--unless it wor totalk very confidential, " said Pickard. "But lor bless yer!--it 'ud bequiet enough anywheer about this neighbourhood at that time o' neet. However, this is wheer Bill Thomson says he see'd 'em come. "

He led the way amongst the disused quarries, and Byner, following, climbed on a mound, now grown over with grass and weed, and looked abouthim. To his town eyes the place was something novel. He had never seenthe like of it before. Gradually he began to understand it. The stonehad been torn out of the earth, sometimes in square pits, sometimes insemi-circular ones, until the various veins and strata had becomeexhausted. Then, when men went away, Nature had stepped in to assert herrights. All over the despoiled region she had spread a new clothing ofgreen. Turf had grown on the flooring of the quarries; ivy and bramblehad covered the deep scars; bushes had sprung up; trees were alreadyspringing. And in one of the worn-out excavations some man had planted akitchen-garden in orderly and formal rows and plots. 

"Dangerous place that there!" said Pickard suddenly. "If I'd known o'that, I shouldn't ha' let my young 'uns come to play about here. Theymight be tummlin' in and drownin' theirsens! I mun tell my missis tokeep 'em away!"

Byner turned--to find the landlord pointing at the old shaft which hadgradually become filled with water. In the morning sunlight its surfaceglittered like a plane of burnished metal, but when the two men wentnearer and gazed at it from its edge, the water was black andunfathomable to the eye. 

"Goodish thirty feet o' water in that there!" surmised Pickard. "It'snone safe for childer to play about--theer's nowt to protect 'em. Nexttime I see Mestur Shepherd I shall mak' it my business to tell him so;he owt either to drain that watter off or put a fence around it. "

"Is Mr. Shepherd the property-owner?" asked Byner. 

"Aye!--it's all his, this land, " answered Pickard. He pointed to alow-roofed house set amidst elms and chestnuts, some distance off acrossthe moor. "Lives theer, does Mestur Shepherd--varry well-to-do man, heis. "

"How could that water be drained off?" asked Byner with assumedcarelessness. 

"Easy enough!" replied Pickard. "Cut through yon ledge, and let it runinto t' far quarry there. A couple o' men 'ud do that job in a day. "

Byner made no further remark. He and Pickard strolled back to the _GreenMan_ together. And declining the landlord's invitation to step insideand take another glass, but promising to see him again very soon, theinquiry agent walked on to the tram-car and rode down to Barford to keephis appointment with Eldrick and Collingwood at the barrister'schambers. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE DIRECT CHARGE

While Byner was pursuing his investigations in the neighbourhood of the_Green Man_, Collingwood was out at Normandale Grange, discussingcertain matters with Nesta Mallathorpe. He had not only thought long anddeeply over his conversation with Cobcroft the previous evening, but hadbegun to think about the crucial point of the clerk's story as soon ashe spoke in the morning, and the result of his meditations was that herose early, intercepted Cobcroft before he started for Mallathorpe'sMill and asked his permission to re-tell the story to Miss Mallathorpe. Cobcroft raised no objection, and when Collingwood had been to hischambers and seen his letters, he chartered a car and rode out toNormandale where he told Nesta of what he had learned and of his ownconclusions. And Nesta, having listened carefully to all he had to tell, put a direct question to him. 

"You think this document which Pratt told me he holds is my late uncle'swill?" she said. "What do you suppose its terms to be?"

"Frankly--these, or something like these, " replied Collingwood. "And Iget at my conclusions in this way. Your uncle died intestate--consequently, everything in the shape of real estate came to your brother and everythingin personal property to your brother and yourself. Now, supposing thatthe document which Pratt boasts of holding is the will, one fact is verycertain--the property, real or personal, is not disposed of in the wayin which it became disposed of because of John Mallathorpe's intestacy. He probably disposed of it in quite another fashion. Why do I think that?Because the probability is that Pratt said to your mother, 'I have gotJohn Mallathorpe's will! It doesn't leave his property to your son anddaughter. Therefore, I have all of you at my mercy. Make it worth mywhile, or I will bring the will forward. ' Do you see that situation?"

"Then, " replied Nesta, after a moment's reflection, "you do think thatmy mother was very anxious to get that document--a will--from Pratt?"

Collingwood knew what she was thinking of--her mind was still uneasyabout Pratt's account of the affair of the foot-bridge. But--the matterhad to be faced. 

"I think your mother would naturally be very anxious to secure such adocument, " he said. "You must remember that according to Pratt's storyto you, she tried to buy it from him--just as you did yourself, thoughyou, of course, had no idea of what it was you wanted to buy. "

"What I wanted to buy, " she answered readily, "was necessity fromfurther interference! But--is there no way of compelling Pratt to giveup that document--whatever it is? Can't he be made to give it up?"

"A way is may be being made, just now--through another affair, " repliedCollingwood. "At present matters are vague. One couldn't go to Pratt anddemand something at which one is, after all, only guessing. Your mother, of course, would deny that she knows what it is that Pratt holds. But--there is the possibility of the duplicate to which Cobcroftreferred. Now, I want to put the question straight to you--supposingthat duplicate will can be found--and supposing--to put it plainly---itsterms dispossess you of all your considerable property--what then?"

"Do you want the exact truth?" she asked. "Well, then, I should justwelcome anything that cleared up all this mystery! What is it atpresent, this situation, but intolerable? I know that mymother is in Pratt's power, and likely to remain so as long as ever thisgoes on--probably for life. She will not give me her confidence. What ismore, I am certain that she is giving it to Esther Mawson--who is mostlikely hand-in-glove with Pratt. Esther Mawson is always with her. I amalmost sure that she communicates with Pratt through Esther Mawson. Itis all what I say--intolerable! I had rather lose every penny that hascome into my hands than have this go on. "

"Answer me a plain question, " said Collingwood. "Is your mother fond ofmoney, position--all that sort of thing?"

"She is fond of power!" replied Nesta. "It pleased her greatly when wecame into all this wealth to know that she was the virtualadministrator. Even if she could only do it by collusion with Pratt, shewould make a fight for all that she--and I--hold. It's useless to denythat. Don't forget, " she added, looking appealingly at Collingwood, "don't forget that she has known what it was to be poor--and if one doescome into money--I suppose one doesn't want to lose it again. "

"Oh, it's natural enough!" agreed Collingwood. "But--if things are as Ithink, Pratt would be an incubus, a mill-stone, for ever. Anyway, I cameout to tell you what I've learned, and what I have an idea may be thetruth, and above all, to get your definite opinion. You want the Prattinfluence out of the way--at any cost?"

"At any cost!" she affirmed. "Even if I have to go back to earning myown living! Whatever pleasure in life could there be for me, knowingthat at the back of all this there is that--what?"

"Pratt!" answered Collingwood. "Pratt! He's the shadow--with his deepschemes. However, as I said--there may be--developing at thismoment--another way of getting at Pratt. Gentlemen like Pratt, bornschemers, invariably forget one very important factor in life--theunexpected! Even the cleverest and most subtle schemer may have hisdelicate machinery broken to pieces by a chance bit of mere dust gettinginto it at an unexpected turn of the wheels. And to turn to plainerlanguage--I'm going back to Barford now to hear what another man has tosay concerning certain of Pratt's recent movements. "

Eldrick was already waiting when Collingwood reached his chambers: Bynercame there a few moments later. Within half an hour the barrister hadtold his story of Cobcroft, and the inquiry agent his of his visit tothe _Green Man_ and the quarries. And the solicitor listened quietly andattentively to both, and in the end turned to Collingwood. 

"I'll withdraw my opinion about the nature of the document which Prattgot hold of, " he said. "What he's got is what you think--JohnMallathorpe's will!"

"If I may venture an opinion, " remarked Byner, "that's dead certain!"

"And now, " continued Eldrick, "we're faced with a nice situation! Don'teither of you forget this fact. Not out of willingness on her part, butbecause she's got to do it, Mrs. Mallathorpe and Pratt are partners inthat affair. He's got the will--but she knows its contents. She'll payany price to Pratt to keep them from ever becoming known or operative. But, as I say, don't you forget something!"

"What?" asked Collingwood. 

Eldrick tapped the edge of the table, emphasizing his words as he spokethem. 

"They can destroy that will whenever they like!" he said. "And oncedestroyed, nothing can absolutely prove that it ever existed!"

"The duplicate?" suggested Collingwood. 

"Nothing to give us the faintest idea as to its existence!" saidEldrick. 

"We might advertise, " said Collingwood. 

"Lots of advertising was done when John Mallathorpe died, " replied thesolicitor. "No!--if any person had had it in possession, it would haveturned up then. It may be--probably is--possibly must be--somewhere--andmay yet come to light. But--there's another way of getting at Pratt. Through this Parrawhite affair. Pratt most likely had not the leastnotion that he would ever hear of Parrawhite again. He is going to hearof Parrawhite again! I am convinced now that Parrawhite knew somethingabout this, and that Pratt squared him and got him away. Aren't you?" heasked, turning to Byner. 

But Byner smiled quietly and shook his head. 

"No!" he answered. "I am not, Mr. Eldrick. "

"You're not?" exclaimed Eldrick, surprised and wondering that anybodycould fail to agree with him. 

"Why not, then?"

"Because, " replied Byner. "I am certain that Pratt murdered Parrawhiteon the night of November twenty-third last. That's why. He didn't squarehim. He didn't get him away. He killed him!"

The effect of this straightforward pronouncement of opinion on the twomen who heard it was strikingly different. Collingwood's face at oncebecame cold and inscrutable; his lips fixed themselves sternly; his eyeslooked hard into a problematic future. But Eldrick flushed as if adirect accusation had been levelled at himself, and he turned on theinquiry agent almost impatiently. 

"Murder!" he exclaimed. "Oh, come! I--really, that's rather a stifforder! I dare say Pratt's been up to all sorts of trickery, and evendeviltry--but murder is quite another thing. You're pretty ready toaccuse him!"

Byner moved his head in Collingwood's direction--and Eldrick turned andlooked anxiously at Collingwood, who, finding the eyes of both men onhim, opened his hitherto tight-shut lips. 

"I think it quite likely!" he said. 

Byner laughed softly and looked at the solicitor. 

"Just listen to me a minute or two, Mr. Eldrick, " he said. "I'll sum upmy own ideas on this matter, got from the various details that have beensupplied to me since I came to Barford. Just consider my points one byone. Let's take them separately--and see how they fit in. 

"1. Mr. Bartle is seen by his shop-boy to take a certain paper from abook which came from the late John Mallathorpe's office at MallathorpeMill. He puts that paper in his pocket. 

"2. Immediately afterwards Mr. Bartle goes to your office. Nobody isthere but Pratt--as far as Pratt knows. 

"3. Bartle dies suddenly--after telling Pratt that the paper is JohnMallathorpe's will. Pratt steals the will. And the probability is thatParrawhite, unknown to Pratt, was in that office, and saw him steal it. Why is that probable? Because--

"4. Next night Parrawhite, who is being pressed for money by Pickard, tells Pickard that he can get it out of Pratt, over whom he has a hold. What hold? We can imagine what hold. Anyway--

"5. Parrawhite leaves Pickard to meet Pratt. He did meet Pratt--inStubbs' Lane. He was seen to go with Pratt into the disused quarry. Andthere, in my opinion, Pratt killed him--and disposed of his body. 

"6. What does Pratt do next? He goes to your office first thing nextmorning, and removes certain moneys which you say you carelessly left inyour desk the night before, and tears out certain cheque forms from yourbook. When Parrawhite never turns up that morning, you--andPratt--conclude that he's the thief, and that he's run away. 

"7. If you want some proof of the correctness of this last suggestion, you'll find it in the fact that no use has ever been made of those blankcheques, and that--in all probability--the stolen bank-notes have neverreached the Bank of England. On that last point I'm making inquiry--butmy feeling is that Pratt destroyed both cheques and bank-notes when hestole them. 

"8. This man Parrawhite out of the way, Pratt has a clear field. He'sgot the will. He's already acquainted Mrs. Mallathorpe with that fact, and with the terms of the will--whatever they may be. We may be sure, however, that they are of such a nature as to make her willing to agreeto his demands upon her--and, accidentally, to go to any lengths--uponwhich we needn't touch, at present--towards getting possession of thewill from him. 

"9. And the present situation--from Pratt's standpoint of yesterday--isthis. He's so sure of his own safety that he doesn't mind revealing tothe daughter that the mother's in his power. Why? Because Pratt, likemost men of his sort, cannot believe that self-interest isn't paramountwith everybody--it's beyond him to conceive it possible that MissMallathorpe would do anything that might lose her several thousands ayear. He argued--'So long as I hold that will, nobody and nothing canmake me give it up nor divulge its contents. But I can bind one personwho benefits by it--Miss Mallathorpe, and for the mother's sake I cankeep the daughter quiet!' Well--he hasn't kept the daughter quiet!She--spoke!

"10. And last--in all such schemes as Pratt's, the schemer invariablyforgets something. Pratt forgot that there might arise what actually hasarisen--inquiry for Parrawhite. The search for Parrawhite is afoot--andif you want to get at Pratt, it will have to be through what I firmlybelieve to be a fact--his murder of Parrawhite and his disposal ofParrawhite's body. 

"That's all, Mr. Eldrick, " concluded Byner who had spoken with muchemphasis throughout. "It all seems very clear to me, and, " he added, with a glance at Collingwood, "I think Mr. Collingwood is inclined toagree with most of what I've said. "

"Pretty nearly all--if not all, " assented Collingwood. "I think you'veput into clear language precisely what I feel. I don't believe there's ashadow of doubt that Pratt killed Parrawhite! And we can--and must--getat him in that way. What do you suggest?" he continued, turning toByner. "You have some idea, of course?"

"First of all, " answered Byner, "we mustn't arouse any suspicion onPratt's part. Let us work behind the screen. But I have an idea as tohow he disposed of Parrawhite, and I'm going to follow it up this veryday--my first duty, you know, is towards the people who want Parrawhite, or proof of his death. I propose to----"

Just then Collingwood's clerk came in with a telegram. 

"Sent on from the _Central Hotel_, sir, " he answered. "They said Mr. Black would be found here. "

"That's mine, " said the inquiry agent. "I left word at the hotel thatthey were to send to your chambers if any wire came for me. Allow me. "He opened the telegram, looked it over, and waiting until the clerk hadgone, turned to his companions. "Here's a message from my partner, Mr. Halstead, " he continued. "Listen to what he wires:

 "'Wire just received from Murgatroyd, shipping agent, Peel Row, Barford. He says Parrawhite left that town for America on November 24th last and offers further information. Let me know what to reply!'"

Byner laid the message before Eldrick and Collingwood without furthercomment. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE CAT'SPAW

On the evening of the day whereon Nesta Mallathorpe had paid him thevisit which had resulted in so much plain speech on both sides, Prattemployed his leisure in a calm review of the situation. He was by nomeans dissatisfied, it seemed to him that everything was going very wellfor his purposes. He was not at all sorry that Nesta had been to seehim--far from it. He regretted nothing that he had said to her. In hisdesperate opinion, his own position was much stronger when she lefthim than it was when he opened his office door to her. She now knew, said Pratt, with what a strong and resourceful man she had to deal: shewould respect him, and have a better idea of him, now that she was awareof his impregnable position. 

Herein Pratt's innate vanity and his ignorance showed themselves. He hadlittle knowledge of modern young women, and few ideas about them; andsuch ideas as he possessed were usually mistaken ones. But one was thatit is always necessary to keep a firm hand on women--let them see andfeel your power, said Pratt. He had been secretly delighted to acquaintNesta Mallathorpe with his power, to drive it into her that he had thewhip hand of her mother, and through her mother, of Nesta herself. Hehad seen that Nesta was much upset and alarmed by what he told her. Andthough she certainly seemed to recover her spirits at the end of theinterview, and even refused to shake hands with him, he cherished thenotion that in the war of words he had come off a decided victor. He didnot believe that Nesta would utter to any other soul one word of whathad passed between them: she would be too much afraid of calling downhis vengeance on her mother. What he did believe was that as time wentby, and all progressed smoothly, Nesta would come to face and acceptfacts: she would find him honest and hardworking in his dealings withMrs. Mallathorpe (as he fully intended to be, from purely personal andselfish motives) and she herself would begin to tolerate and then totrust him, and eventually--well, who knew what might or might nothappen? What said the great Talleyrand?--WITH TIME AND PATIENCE, THEMULBERRY LEAF IS TURNED INTO SATIN. 

But Pratt's self-complacency received a shock next morning. If he hadbeen a reader of London newspapers, it would have received a shock theday before. Pratt, however, was essentially parochial in his newspapertastes--he never read anything but the Barford papers. And when hepicked up the Barford morning journal and saw Eldrick's advertisementfor Parrawhite in a prominent place, he literally started from sheersurprise--not unmingled with alarm. It was as if he were the occupant ofa strong position, only fortified, who suddenly finds a shell droppedinto his outworks from a totally unexpected quarter. 

Parrawhite! Advertised for by Eldrick! Why? For what reason? For whatpurpose? With what idea? Parrawhite!--of all men in theworld--Parrawhite, of whom he had never wanted to hear again! And whaton earth could Eldrick want with him, or with news of him? It wouldbe--or might be--an uncommonly awkward thing for him, Pratt, if a reallyexhaustive search were made for Parrawhite. For nobody knew better thanhimself that one little thing leads to another, and--but he forbore tofollow out what might have been his train of thought. Once he wastempted to make an excuse for going round to Eldrick & Pascoe's with theidea of fishing for information--but he refrained. Let thingsdevelop--that was a safer plan. Still, he was anxious and disturbed allday. Then, towards the end of the afternoon, he bought one of theBarford evening papers--and saw, in staring letters, the advertisementwhich Byner had caused to be inserted only a few hours previously. Andat that, Pratt became afraid. 

Parrawhite wanted!--news of Parrawhite wanted!--and in two separatequarters. Wanted by Eldrick--wanted by some London people! What in thename of the devil did it mean? At any rate, he must see to himself. Onething was certain--no search for Parrawhite must be permitted inBarford. 

That evening, instead of going home to dinner, Pratt remained in town, and dined at a quiet restaurant. When he dined, he thought, and planned, and schemed--and after treating himself very well in the matter of foodand drink, he lighted a cigar, returned to his new offices, opened asafe which he had just set up, and took from a drawer in it a hundredpounds in bank-notes. With these in his pocket-book he went off to aquiet part of the town--the part in which James Parrawhite had lodgedduring his stay in Barford. 

Pratt turned into a somewhat mean and shabby street--a street of small, poor-class shops. He went forward amongst them until he came to onewhich, if anything, was meaner and shabbier than the others and boreover its window the name Reuben Murgatroyd--Watchmaker and Jeweller. There were few signs of jewellery in Reuben Murgatroyd's window--somecheap clocks, some foreign-made watches of the five-shilling andseven-and-six variety, a selection of flashy rings and chains werespread on the shelves, equally cheap and flashy bangles, bracelets, andbrooches lay in dust-covered trays on the sloping bench beneath them. Atthese things Pratt cast no more than a contemptuous glance. But helooked with interest at the upper part of the window, in which weredisplayed numerous gaily-coloured handbills and small posters relatingto shipping--chiefly in the way of assisted passages to various parts ofthe globe. These set out that you could get an assisted passage toCanada for so much; to Australia for not much more--and if the bills andposters themselves did not tell you all you wanted to know, certain bigletters at the foot of each invited you to apply for further informationto Mr. R. Murgatroyd, agent, within. And Pratt pushed open the shop-doorand walked inside. 

An untidily dressed, careworn, anxious-looking man came forward from aparlour at the rear of his shop. At sight of Pratt--who in the course ofbusiness had once served him with a writ--his pale face flushed, andthen whitened, and Pratt hastened to assure him of his peaceful errand. 

"All right, Mr. Murgatroyd, " he said. "Nothing to be alarmed about--I'mout of that line, now--no papers of that sort tonight. I've a bit ofbusiness I can put in your hands--profitable business. Look here!--haveyou got a quarter of an hour to spare?"

Murgatroyd, who looked greatly relieved to find that his visitor hadneither writ nor summons for him, glanced at his parlour door. 

"I was just going to put the shutters up, and sit down to a bite ofsupper, Mr. Pratt, " he answered. "Will you come in, sir?"

"No--you come out with me, " said Pratt. "Come round to the _Coach andHorses_, and have a drink and we can talk. You'll have a better appetitefor your supper when you come back, " he added, with a wink. "I've aprofitable job for you. "

"Glad to hear it, sir, " replied Murgatroyd. "I can do with aught of thatsort, I assure you!" He went into the parlour, said a word or two tosome person within, and came out again. "Not much business doing atpresent, Mr. Pratt, " he said, as he and his visitor turned into thestreet. "Gets slacker than ever. "

"Then you'll do with a slice of good luck, " remarked Pratt. "It justhappens that I can put a bit in your way. "

He led Murgatroyd to the end of the street, where stood a corner tavern, into a side-door of which Pratt turned as if he were well acquaintedwith the geography of the place. Walking down a narrow passage heconducted his companion into a small parlour, at that moment untenanted, pointed him to a seat in the corner, and rang the bell. Five minuteslater, having provided Murgatroyd with rum and water and a cigar, heturned on him with a direct question. 

"Look here!" he said in a low voice. "Would a hundred pounds be any useto you?"

Murgatroyd's cheeks flushed. 

"It 'ud be a fortune!" he answered with fervour. "A hundred pound! Lor'bless you, Mr. Pratt, it's many a year since I saw a hundred pound--ofmy own--all in one lump!"

Pratt pulled out his roll of bank-notes, fluttered it in his companion'sface, laid it on the table, and set an ashtray on it. 

"There's a hundred pounds there!" he said, "It's yours to pick up--ifyou'll do a little job for me. Easy job, too!--you'll never earn ahundred pounds so easy in your life!"

Murgatroyd pricked up his ears. According to his ideas, money easilycome by was seldom honestly earned. He stirred uncomfortably in hisseat. 

"So long as it's a straight job, " he muttered. "I don't want----"

"Straight enough--as straight as it's easy, " answered Pratt. "It mayseem a bit mysterious, but there's reasons for that. I give you my wordit's all right--all a mere bit of diplomacy--and that nobody'll everknow you're in it--that is, beyond a certain stage--and that there's nodanger to you. "

"What is it?" asked Murgatroyd, still uneasy and doubtful. 

Pratt pulled the evening paper out of his pocket and showed Murgatroydthe advertisement signed Halstead & Byner. 

"You see that?" he said. "Information wanted about Parrawhite. Do youremember Parrawhite? He once served you with some papers in that affairin which we were against you. "

"I remember him, " answered Murgatroyd. "I've seen him in here now andagain. So he's wanted, is he? I didn't know he'd left the town. "

"Left last November, " said Pratt. "And--there are folks--influentialfolks, as you can guess, seeing that they can throw a hundred poundsaway!--who don't want any inquiries made for him in Barford. They don'tmind--those folks--how many inquiries and searches are made for himanywhere else, but--not here!"

"Well?" asked Murgatroyd anxiously. 

"This is it, " replied Pratt. "You do a bit now and then as agent forsome of these shipping lines. You book passages for emigrants--and forother people, going to New Zealand or Canada or Timbuctoo--never mindwhere. Now then--couldn't you remember--I'm sure you could--that youbooked a passage for Parrawhite to America last November? Come! It's aneasy matter to remember is that--for a hundred pounds. "

Murgatroyd's thin fingers trembled a little as he picked up his glass. "What do you want me to do--exactly?" he asked. 

"This!" said Pratt. "I want you, tomorrow morning, early, to send atelegram to these people, Halstead & Byner, St. Martin's Chambers, London, just saying that James Parrawhite left Barford for America onNovember 24th last, and that you can give further information ifnecessary. "

"And what if it is necessary?" inquired Murgatroyd. 

"Then--in answer to any letter or telegram of inquiry--you'll just saythat you knew Parrawhite by sight as a clerk at Eldrick & Pascoe's inthis town, that on November 23rd he told you that he was going toemigrate to America, that next day you booked him his passage, for whichhe paid you whatever it was, and that he thereupon set off forLiverpool. See?"

"It's all lies, you know, " muttered Murgatroyd. 

"Nobody can find 'em out, anyway, " replied Pratt. "That's the oneimportant thing to consider. You're safe! And if you're cursed with aconscience and it's tender--well, that'll make a good plaister for it!"

He pointed to the little wad of bank-notes--and the man sitting at hisside followed the pointing finger with hungry eyes. Murgatroyd wantedmoney badly. His business, always poor, was becoming worse: his shippingagency rarely produced any result: his rent was in arrears: he owedmoney to his neighbour-tradesmen: he had a wife and young children. Tosuch a man, a hundred pounds meant relief, comfort, the lifting ofpressure. 

"You're sure there's naught wrong in it, Mr. Pratt, " he asked abruptlyand assiduously. "It 'ud be a bad job for my family if anything happenedto me, you know. "

"There's naught that will happen, " answered Pratt confidently. "Who onearth can contradict you? Who knows what people you sell passagesto--but yourself?"

"There's the folks themselves, " replied Murgatroyd. "Suppose Parrawhiteturns up?"

"He won't!" exclaimed Pratt. 

"You know where he is?" suggested Murgatroyd. 

"Not exactly, " said Pratt, "But--he's left this country foranother--further off than America. That's certain! And--the folks Ireferred to don't want any inquiry about him here. "

"If I am asked questions--later--am I to say he booked in his own name?"inquired Murgatroyd. 

"No--name of Parsons, " responded Pratt. "Here, I'll write down for youexactly what I want you to say in the telegram to Halstead & Byner, andI'll make a few memoranda for you--to post you up in case they write forfurther information. "

"I haven't said that I'll do it, " remarked Murgatroyd. "I don't like thelooks of it. It's all a pack of lies. "

Pratt paid no heed to this moral reflection. He found some loose paperin his pocket and scribbled on it for a while. Then, as if accidentally, he moved the ash-tray, and the bank-notes beneath it, all new, gaveforth a crisp, rustling sound. 

"Here you are!" said Pratt, pushing notes and memoranda towards hiscompanion. "Take the brass, man!--you don't get a job like that everyday. "

And Murgatroyd put the money in his pocket, and presently went home, persuading himself that everything would be all right. 

CHAPTER XXIII

SMOOTH FACE AND ANXIOUS BRAIN

Byner watched Eldrick and Collingwood inquisitively as they bent overHalstead's telegram. He was not surprised when Collingwood merely noddedin silence--nor when Eldrick turned excitedly in his own direction. 

"There!--what did I tell you?" he exclaimed. "There's been no murder!The man left the town. Probably, Pratt helped him off. Couldn't havebetter proof than that wire!"

"What do you take that wire to prove, then, Mr. Eldrick?" asked Byner. 

"Take it to prove!" answered Eldrick. "Why, that Parrawhite booked apassage to America with this man Murgatroyd, last November. Clearenough, that!"

"What do you take it to prove, Mr. Collingwood?" continued the inquiryagent, as he turned to the barrister with a smile. 

"Before I take it for anything, " replied Collingwood, "I want to knowwho Murgatroyd is. "

Byner looked at Eldrick and laughed. 

"Precisely!" he said. "Who is Murgatroyd? Perhaps Mr. Eldrick knows. "

"I do just know that he's a man who carries on a small watch and clockbusiness in a poorish part of the town, and that he has some sort of ashipping agency, " answered Eldrick. "But--do you mean to imply thatwhatever message it is that he's sent to your partner in London thismorning has not been sent in good faith?"

"I don't imply anything, " answered Byner. "All I say is--before I attachany value to his message I, like Collingwood, want to know somethingabout the sender. He may have been put up to sending it. He may be incollusion with somebody. Now, Mr. Eldrick, you can come inhere--strongly! I don't want to be seen in this affair--yet. Will you goand see Murgatroyd? Tell him his wire to Halstead & Byner in London hasbeen communicated to you here. Ask him for further particulars--and thendrop in on me at my hotel and tell me what you've learnt. I'll be foundin the smoking-room there any time after two-thirty onward. "

Eldrick's intense curiosity in what was rapidly becoming a fascinatingmystery to him, led him to accept this embassy. And a little beforethree o'clock he walked into the smoking-room at the _Central Hotel_ anddiscovered Byner in a comfortable corner. 

"I've seen Murgatroyd, " he whispered, as he took an adjacent chair. "Decent honest enough man--very poor, I should say. He tells a plainenough story. Parrawhite, whom he knew as one of our clerks, told him, last November 23rd----"

"He was exact about dates, then, was he?" interrupted Byner. 

"He mentioned them readily enough, " replied the solicitor. "But to goon--Parrawhite mentioned to him, November 23rd last, that he wanted togo to America at once, Murgatroyd told him about bookings. Parrawhitecalled very early next morning, paid for his passage under the name ofParsons, and went off--en route for Liverpool, of course. So--there youare!"

"That's all Murgatroyd could tell?" inquired Byner. 

"That's all he knows, " answered Eldrick. 

"You say Murgatroyd knew Parrawhite as one of your clerks?" asked Bynerafter a moment's thought. 

"We had some process in hand against this man last autumn, " repliedEldrick. "I dare say Parrawhite served him with papers. "

"Would he--Murgatroyd--be likely to know Pratt?" continued Byner. 

"He might--in the same connection, " admitted Eldrick. 

Byner smoked in silence for a while. 

"Do you know what I think, Mr. Eldrick?" he said at last. "I think Prattput up Murgatroyd to sending that telegram to us in London thismorning. "

"You do!" exclaimed Eldrick. 

"Surely! And now, " continued the inquiry agent, "if you will, you can domore--much more--without appearing to do anything. Pratt's office isonly a few minutes away. Can you drop in there, making some excuse, andwhile there, mention, more or less casually, that Parrawhite, orinformation about him, is wanted; that you and a certain Halstead &Byner are advertising for him; that you've just seen Murgatroyd inrespect of a communication which he wired to Halstead's this morning, and that--most important of all--a fortune of twenty thousand pounds isawaiting Parrawhite! Don't forget the last bit of news. "

"Why that particularly?" asked Eldrick. 

"Because, " answered Byner solemnly, "I want Pratt to know that thesearch for Parrawhite is going to be a thorough one!"

Eldrick went off on his second mission, promising to return in duecourse. Within a few minutes he was in Pratt's office, talking over someunimportant matter of business which he had invented as he went along. It was not until he was on the point of departure that he referred tothe real reason of his visit. 

"Did you notice that Parrawhite is being advertised for?" he asked, suddenly turning on his old clerk. 

Pratt was ready for this--had been ready ever since Eldrick walked in. He affected a fine surprise. 

"Parrawhite!" he exclaimed. "Why--who's advertising for him?"

"Don't you see the newspapers?" asked Eldrick, pointing to some whichlay about the room. "It's in there--there's an advertisement of mine, and one of Halstead & Byner's, of London. "

Pratt picked up a Barford paper and looked at the advertisements with aclever affectation of having never seen them before. 

"I haven't had much time for newspaper reading this last day or two, " heremarked. "Advertisements for him--from two quarters!"

"Acting together--acting together, you know!" replied Eldrick. "It'sthose people who really want him--Halstead & Byner, inquiry agents, working for a firm of City solicitors. I'm only local agent--as itwere. "

"Had any response, Mr. Eldrick?" asked Pratt, throwing aside the paper. "Any one come forward?"

"Yes, " answered Eldrick, watching Pratt narrowly without seeming to doso. "This morning, a man named Murgatroyd, in Peel Row, who does a bitof shipping agency, wired to Halstead & Byner to say that he bookedParrawhite to New York last November. Of course, they at oncecommunicated with me, and I've just been to see Murgatroyd. He's thatman--watchmaker--we had some proceedings against last year. "

"Oh, that man!" said Pratt. "Thought the name was familiar. I rememberhim. And what does he say?"

"Just about as much as--and little more than--he said in his wire toLondon, " replied Eldrick. "Booked Parrawhite to America November 24thlast, and believes he left for Liverpool there and then. "

"Ah!" remarked Pratt, "That explains it, then?"

"Explains--what?" asked Eldrick. 

Pratt gave his old employer a look--confidential and significant. 

"Explains why he took that money out of your desk, " he said. "Youremember--forty odd pounds. He'd use some of that for his passage-money. America eh? Now--I suppose he's vanished for good, then--it's not verylikely he'll ever be heard of from across there. "

Eldrick laughed--meaningly, of set purpose. 

"We don't know that he's gone there, " he observed. "He mightn't getbeyond Liverpool, you know. Anyhow, we're going to make a very goodsearch for him here in Barford, first. We've nothing but Murgatroyd'sword for his having set out for Liverpool. "

"What's he wanted for?" asked Pratt as unconcernedly as possible. "Beenup to something?"

"No, " answered Eldrick, as he turned on his heel. "A relation has lefthim twenty thousand pounds. That's what he's wanted for--and why he mustbe found--or his death proved. "

He gave Pratt another quick glance and went off--to return to the hoteland Byner, to whom he at once gave a faithful account of what had justtaken place. 

"And he didn't turn a hair, " he remarked. "Cool as a cucumber, allthrough! If your theory is correct, Pratt's a cleverer hand than I evertook him for--and I've always said he was clever. "

"Didn't show anything when you mentioned Murgatroyd?" asked Byner. 

"Not a shred of a thing!" replied Eldrick. 

"Nor when you spoke of the twenty thousand pounds?"

"No more than what you might call polite and interested surprise!"

Byner laughed, threw away the end of a cigar, and rose out of hislounging posture. 

"Now, Mr. Eldrick, " he said, leaning close to the solicitor, "betweenourselves, do you know what I'm going to do--next--which means at once?"

"No, " replied Eldrick. 

"The police!" whispered Byner. "That's my next move. Just now! Within afew minutes. So--will you give me a couple of notes--one to theprincipal man here--chief constable, or police superintendent, orwhatever he is; and another to the best detective there is here--in youropinion. They'll save me a lot of trouble. "

"Of course--if you wish it, " answered Eldrick. "But you don't mean tosay you're going to have Pratt arrested--on what you know up to now?"

"Not at all!" replied Byner. "Much too soon! All I want is--detectivehelp of the strictly professional kind. No--we'll give Mr. Pratt alittle more rope yet--for another four-and-twenty-hours, say. But--it'llcome! Now, who is the best local detective--a quiet, steady fellow whoknows how to do his work unobtrusively?"

"Prydale's the man!" said Eldrick "Detective-Sergeant Prydale--I've hadreason to employ him, more than once. I'll give you a note to him, andone to Superintendent Waterson. "

He went over to a writing-table and scribbled a few lines on half-sheetsof notepaper which he enclosed in envelopes and handed to Byner. 

"I don't know what line you're taking, " he said, "nor where it's goingto end--exactly. But I do know this--Pratt never turned a hair when Ilet out all that to him. "

But if Eldrick went away from his old clerk's fine new offices thinkingthat Pratt was quite unperturbed and unmoved by the news he had justacquired, he was utterly mistaken. Pratt was very much perturbed, deeplymoved, not a little frightened. He had so schooled himself to keep astraight and ever blank expression of countenance in any sudden changeof events that he had shown nothing to Eldrick--but he was none the lessupset by the solicitor's last announcement. Twenty thousand pounds waslying to be picked up by Parrawhite--or by Parrawhite's next-of-kin!What an unhappy turn of fortune! For the next-of-kin would never restuntil either Parrawhite came to light, or it was satisfactorilyestablished that he was dead--and if search begun to be made in Barford, where might not that search end? Unmoved?--cool?--if Eldrick had turnedback, he would have found that Pratt had suddenly given way to a fit ofnerves. 

But that soon passed, and Pratt began to think. He left his officeearly, and betook himself to his favourite gymnasium. Exercise did himgood--he thought a lot while he was exercising. And once more, insteadof going home to dinner, he dined in town, and he sat late over hisdinner in a snug corner of the restaurant, and he thought and plannedand schemed--and after twilight had fallen on Barford, he went out andmade his way to Peel Row. He must see Murgatroyd again--at once. 

Half-way along Peel Row, Pratt stopped, suddenly--and with sudden fear. Out of a side street emerged a man, a quiet ordinary-looking man whom heknew very well indeed--Detective-Sergeant Prydale. He was accompanied bya smart-looking, much younger man, whom Pratt remembered to have seen inBeck Street that afternoon--a stranger to him and to Barford. And as hewatched, these two covered the narrow roadway, and walked intoMurgatroyd's shop. 

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BETTER HALF

Under the warming influence of two glasses of rum and water, and lulledby Pratt's assurance that all would be well, Murgatroyd had carried homehis hundred pounds with pretty much the same feeling which permeates aman who, having been within measurable distance of drowning, suddenlyfinds a substantial piece of timber drifting his way, and takes a firmgrip on it. After all, a hundred pounds was a hundred pounds. He wouldbe able to pay his rent, and his rates, and give something to the grocerand the butcher and the baker and the milkman; the children should havesome much-needed new clothes and boots--when all this was done, therewould be a nice balance left over. And it was Pratt's affair, when allwas said and done, and if any trouble arose, why, Pratt would have tosettle it. So he ate his supper with the better appetite which Pratt hadprophesied, and he slept more satisfactorily than usual, and nextmorning he went to the nearest telegraph office and sent off thestipulated telegram to Halstead & Byner in London, and hoped that therewas the end of the matter as far as he was concerned. And then, shortlyafter noon, in walked Mr. Eldrick, one of the tribe which Murgatroyddreaded, having had various dealings with solicitors, in the way ofwrits and summonses, and began to ask questions. 

Murgatroyd emerged from that ordeal very satisfactorily. Eldrick'squestions were few, elementary, and easily answered. There were no signsof suspicion about him, and Murgatroyd breathed more freely when he wasgone. It seemed to him that the solicitor's visit would certainly windthings up--for him. Eldrick asked all that could be asked, as far as hecould see, and he had replied: now, he would probably be bothered nomore. His spirits had assumed quite a cheerful tone by evening--but theyreceived a rude shock when, summoned from his little workshop to thefront premises, he found himself confronting one man whom he certainlyknew to be a detective, and another who might be one. Do what he wouldhe could not conceal some agitation, and Detective-Sergeant Prydale, ashrewdly observant man, noticed it--and affected not to. 

"Evening, Mr. Murgatroyd, " he said cheerily. "We've come to see if youcan give us a bit of information. You've had Mr. Eldrick, the lawyer, here today on the same business. You know--this affair of an old clerkof his--Parrawhite?"

"I told Mr. Eldrick all I know, " muttered Murgatroyd. 

"Very likely, " replied Prydale, "but there's a few questions thisgentleman and myself would like to ask. Can we come in?"

Murgatroyd fetched his wife to mind the shop, and took the callers intothe parlour which she had unwillingly vacated. He knew Prydale by sightand reputation; about Byner he wondered. Finally he set him down as adetective from London--and was all the more afraid of him. 

"What do you want to know?" he asked, when the three men were alone. "Idon't think there's anything that I didn't tell Mr. Eldrick. "

"Oh, there's a great deal that Mr. Eldrick didn't ask, " said Prydale. "Mr. Eldrick sort of just skirted round things, like. We want to know abit more. This Parrawhite's got to be found, d'ye see, Mr. Murgatroyd, and as you seem to be the last man who had aught to do with him inBarford, why, naturally, we come to you. Now, to start with, you say hecame to you about getting a passage to America? Just so--now, when wouldthat be?"

"Day before he did get it, " answered Murgatroyd, rapidly thinking overthe memoranda which Pratt had jotted down for his benefit. 

"That, " said Prydale, "would be on the 23rd?"

"Yes, " replied Murgatroyd, "23rd November, of course. "

"What time, now, on the 23rd?" asked the detective. 

"Time?" said Murgatroyd. "Oh--in the evening. "

"Bit vague, " remarked Prydale. "What time in the evening?"

"As near as I can recollect, " replied Murgatroyd, "it 'ud be just abouthalf-past eight. I was thinking of closing. "

"Ah!" said Prydale, with a glance at Byner, who had already told him ofParrawhite's presence at the _Green Man_ on the other side of the town, a good two miles away, at the hour which Murgatroyd mentioned. "Ah!--hewas here in your shop at half-past eight on the evening of November 23rdlast? Asking about a ticket to America?"

"New York, " muttered Murgatroyd. 

"And he came next morning and bought one?" asked the detective. 

"I told Mr. Eldrick that, " said Murgatroyd, a little sullenly. 

"How much did it cost?" inquired Byner. 

"Eight pound ten, " replied Murgatroyd. "Usual price. "

"What did he pay for it in?" continued Prydale. 

"He gave me a ten-pound note and I gave him thirty shillings change, "answered Murgatroyd. 

"Just so, " assented Prydale. "Now what line might that be by?"

Murgatroyd was becoming uneasy under all these questions, and hisuneasiness was deepened by the way in which both his visitors watchedhim. He was a man who would have been a bad witness in anycase--nervous, ill at ease, suspicious, inclined to boggle--and in thisinstance he was being forced to invent answers. 

"It was--oh, the Royal Atlantic!" he answered at last. "I've an agencyfor them. "

"So I noticed from the bills and placards in your window, " observed thedetective. "And of course you issue these tickets on their paper--I'veseen 'em before. You fill up particulars on a form and a counterfoil, don't you? And you send a copy of those particulars to the RoyalAtlantic offices at Liverpool?"

Murgatroyd nodded silently--this was much more than he bargained for, and he did not know how much further it was going. And Prydale gave hima sudden searching look. 

"Can you show us the counterfoil in this instance?" he asked. 

Murgatroyd flushed. But he managed to get out a fairly quick reply. "No, I can't, " he answered, "I sent that book back at the end of the year. "

"Oh, well--they'll have it at Liverpool, " observed Prydale. "We can getat it there. Of course, they'll have your record of the entiretransaction. He'd be down on their passenger list--under the name ofParsons, I think, Mr. Murgatroyd?"

"He gave me that name, " said Murgatroyd. 

Prydale gave Byner a look and both rose. 

"I think that's about all, " said the detective. "Of course, our nextinquiry will be at Liverpool---at the Royal Atlantic. Thank you, Mr. Murgatroyd--much obliged. "

Before the watchmaker could collect himself sufficiently to say or askmore, Prydale and his companion had walked out of the shop and goneaway. And then Murgatroyd realized that he was in for--but he did notknow what he was in for. What he did know was that if Prydale went orsent over to Liverpool the whole thing would burst like a bubble. Forthe Royal Atlantic people would tell the detectives at once that nopassenger named Parsons had sailed under their auspices on November 24thlast, and that he, Murgatroyd, had been telling a pack of lies. 

Mrs. Murgatroyd, a sharp-featured woman whose wits had been sharpened bya ten years' daily acquaintance with poverty, came out of the shop intothe parlour and looked searchingly at her husband. 

"What did them fellows want?" she demanded. "I knew one of 'em--Prydale, the detective. Now what's up, Reuben? More trouble?"

Murgatroyd hesitated a moment. Then he told his wife the whole storyconcealing nothing. 

"If they go to the Royal Atlantic, it'll all come out, " he groaned. "Icouldn't make any excuse or explanation--anyhow! What's to be done?"

"You should ha' had naught to do wi' that Pratt!" exclaimed Mrs. Murgatroyd. "A scoundrelly fellow, to come and tempt poor folk to do hisdirty work! Where's the money?"

"Locked up!" answered Murgatroyd. "I haven't touched a penny of it. Ithought I'd wait a bit and see if aught happened. But he assured me itwas all right, and you know as well as I do that a hundred pound doesn'tcome our way every day. We want money!"

"Not at that price!" said his wife. "You can pay too much for money, mylad! I wish you'd told me what that Pratt was after--he should haveheard a bit o' my tongue! If I'd only known----"

Just then the shop door opened, and Pratt walked in. He at once sawMurgatroyd and his wife standing between shop and parlour, and realizedat a glance that his secret in this instance was his no longer. 

"Well?" he said, walking up to the watchmaker. "You've had Prydalehere--and you'd Eldrick this morning. Of course, you knew what to say toboth?"

"I wish we'd never had you here last night, young man!" exclaimed Mrs. Murgatroyd fiercely. "What right have you to come here, making troublefor folk that's got plenty already? But at any rate, ours was honesttrouble. Yours is like to land my husband in dishonesty--if it hasn'tdone so already! And if my husband had only spoken to me----"

"Just let your husband speak a bit now, " interrupted Pratt, almostinsolently. "It's you that's making all the trouble or noise, anyhow!There's naught to fuss about, missis. What's upset you, Murgatroyd?"

"They're going to the Royal Atlantic people, " muttered the watchmaker. "Of course, it'll all come out, then. They know that I never booked anyParsons--nor anybody else for that matter--last November. You should ha'thought o' that!"

Pratt realized that the man was right. He had never thought ofthat--never anticipated that inquiry would go beyond Murgatroyd. But hiskeen wits at once set to work. 

"What's the system?" he asked quickly. "Tell me--what's done when youbook anybody like that? Come on!--explain, quick!"

Murgatroyd turned to a drawer and pulled out a book and some papers. "It's simple enough, " he said. "I've this book of forms, d'ye see? Ifill up this form--sort of ticket or pass for the passenger, and hand itto him--it's a receipt as well, to him. Then I enter the sameparticulars on that counterfoil. Then I fill up one of these papers, giving just the same particulars, and post it at once to the Companywith the passage money, less my commission. When one of these books isfinished, I return the counterfoils to Liverpool--they check 'em. Prydale's up to all that. He asked to see the counterfoil in this case. I had to say I hadn't got it--I'd sent it to the Company. Of course, he'll find out that I didn't. "

"Lies!" said Mrs. Murgatroyd, vindictively. "And they didn't start wi'us neither!"

"Who was that other man with Prydale?" asked Pratt. 

"London detective, I should say, " answered the watchmaker. "And judgingby the way he watched me, a sharp 'un, too!"

"What impression did you get--altogether?" demanded Pratt. 

"Why!--that they're going to sift this affair--whatever it is--rightdown to the bottom!" exclaimed Murgatroyd. "They're either going to findParrawhite or get to know what became of him. That's my impression. Andwhat am I going to do, now! This'll lose me what bit of business I'vedone with yon shipping firm. "

"Nothing of the sort!" answered Pratt scornfully. "Don't be a fool!You're all right. You listen to me. You write--straight off--to theRoyal Atlantic. Tell 'em you had some inquiry made about a man namedParsons, who booked a passage with you for New York last November. Saythat on looking up your books you found that you unaccountably forgot tosend them the forms for him and his passage money. Make out a form forthat date, and crumple it up--as if it had been left lying in a drawer. Enclose the money in it--here, I'll give you ten pounds to cover it, " hewent on, drawing a bank-note from his purse. "Get it off at once--you'vetime now--plenty--to catch the night-mail at the General. And then, d'yesee, you're all right. It's only a case then--as far as you'reconcerned--of forgetfulness. What's that?--we all forget something inbusiness, now and then. They'll overlook that--when they get the money. "

"Aye, but you're forgetting something now!" remarked Murgatroyd. "You'reforgetting this--no such passenger ever went! They'll know that by theirpassenger lists. "

"What the devil has that to do with it?" snarled Pratt impatiently. "What the devil do we care whether any such passenger went or not? Allthat you're concerned about is to prove that you issued a ticket toParrawhite, under the name of Parsons. What's it matter to you whereParrawhite, _alias_ Parsons, went, when he'd once left your shop? Younaturally thought he'd go straight to the Lancashire and YorkshireStation, on his way to Liverpool and New York! But, for aught you know, he may have fallen down a drain pipe in the next street! Don't you see, man? There's nothing, there's nobody, not all the detectives in Londonand Barford, can prove that you didn't issue a ticket to Parrawhite onthat date? It isn't up to you to prove that you did!--it's up to them toprove that you didn't! And--they can't. It's impossible. You get thatletter off--at once--to Liverpool, with that money inside it, and you'reas safe as houses--and your hundred pounds as well. Get it done! And ifthose chaps come asking any more questions, tell 'em you're not going toanswer a single one! Mind you!--do what I tell you, and you're safe!"

With that Pratt walked out of the shop and went off towards the centreof the town, inwardly raging and disturbed. It was very evident thatthese people meant to find Parrawhite, alive or dead; evident, too, thatthey had called in the aid of the Barford police. And in spite of allhis assurances to the watchmaker and his suggestion for the next move, Pratt was far from easy about the whole matter. He would have beeneasier if he had known who Prydale's companion was--probably he was, asMurgatroyd had suggested, a London detective who might have been makinginquiries in the town for some time and knew much more than he, Pratt, could surmise. That was the devil of the whole thing!--in Pratt'sopinion. Adept himself in working underground, he feared people whoadopted the same tactics. What was this stranger chap after? What did heknow? What was he doing? Had he let Eldrick know anything? Was there aweb of detectives already being spun around himself? Was that silly, unfortunate affair with Parrawhite being slowly brought to light--towreck him on the very beginning of what he meant to be a brilliantcareer? He cursed Parrawhite again and again as he left Peel Row behindhim. 

The events of the day had made Pratt cautious as well as anxious. Hedecided to keep away from his lodgings that night, and when he reachedthe centre of the town he took a room at a quiet hotel. He was up earlynext morning; he had breakfasted by eight o'clock; by half-past eight hewas at his office. And in his letter-box he found one letter--a thickishpackage which had not come by post, but had been dropped in by hand, andwas merely addressed to Mr. Pratt. 

Pratt tore that package open with a conviction of imminent disaster. Hepulled out a sheet of cheap note-paper--and a wad of bank-notes. Hisface worked curiously as he read a few lines, scrawled in illiterate, female handwriting. 

 "MR PRATT, --My husband and me don't want any more to do with either you or your money which it is enclosed. Been honest up to now though poor, and intending to remain so our purpose is to make a clean breast of everything to the police first thing tomorrow morning for which you have nobody but yourself to blame for wickedness in tempting poor people to do wrong. 

 "Yours, MRS. MURGATROYD. "

CHAPTER XXV

DRY SHERRY

Pratt wasted no time in cursing Mrs. Murgatroyd. There would be plentyof opportunity for such relief to his feelings later on. Just then hehad other matters to occupy him--fully. He tore the indignant letter toshreds; he hastily thrust the bank-notes into one pocket and drew hiskeys from another. Within five minutes he had taken from his safe asealed packet, which he placed in an inside pocket of his coat, and hadleft his office--for the last time, as he knew very well. That part ofthe game was up--and it was necessary to be smart in entering on anotherphase of it. 

Since Eldrick's visit of the previous day, Pratt had been prepared forall eventuality. He had made ready for flight. And he was not goingempty-handed. He had a considerable amount of Mrs. Mallathorpe's moneyin his possession; by obtaining her signature to one or two documents hecould easily obtain much more in London, at an hour's notice. Thosedocuments were all ready, and in the sealed packet which he had justtaken from the safe; in it, too, were some other documents--JohnMallathorpe's will; the letter which Mrs. Mallathorpe had written to himon the evening previous to her son's fatal accident; and the power ofattorney which Pratt had obtained from her at his first interview afterthat occurrence. All was ready--and now there was nothing to do but toget to Normandale Grange, see Mrs. Mallathorpe, and--vanish. He hadplanned it all out, carefully, when he perceived the first dangersignals, and knew that his other plans and schemes were doomed tofailure. Half an hour at Normandale Grange--a journey to London--acouple of hours in the City--and then the next train to the Continent, on his way to regions much further off. Here, things had turned outbadly, unexpectedly badly--but he would carry away considerable, easilytransported wealth, to a new career in a new country. 

Pratt began his flight in methodical fashion. He locked up his office, and left the building by a back entrance which took him into a networkof courts and alleys at the rear of the business part of Barford. Hemade his way in and out of these places until he reached abicycle-dealer's shop in an obscure street, whereat he had left amachine of his own on the previous evening under the excuse of having itthoroughly cleaned and oiled. It was all ready for him on his arrival, and he presently mounted it and rode away through the outskirts of thetown, carefully choosing the less frequented streets and roads. He rodeon until he was clear of Barford: until, in fact, he was some miles fromit, and had reached a village which was certainly not on the way toNormandale. And then, at the post-office he dismounted, and goinginside, wrote out and dispatched a telegram. It was a brief messagecontaining but three words--"One as usual"--and it was addressed EstherMawson, The Grange, Normandale. This done, he remounted his bicycle, rode out of the village, and turned across country in quite a differentdirection. It was not yet ten o'clock--he had three hours to sparebefore the time came for keeping the appointment which he had just made. 

At an early stage of his operations, Pratt had found that even thecleverest of schemers cannot work unaided. It had been absolutelynecessary to have some tool close at hand to Normandale Grange and itsinhabitants; to have some person there upon whom he could depend fornews. He had found that person, that tool, in Esther Mawson, who, asMrs. Mallathorpe's maid, had opportunities which he at once recognizedas being likely to be of the greatest value to him. The circumstances ofHarper Mallathorpe's death had thrown Pratt and the maid together, andhe had quickly discovered that she was to be bought, and would doanything for money. He had soon come to an understanding with her; soonbargained with her, and made her a willing accomplice in certain of hisschemes, without letting her know their full meaning and extent: all, indeed, that she had learned from Pratt was that he had someconsiderable hold on her mistress. 

But it is dangerous work to play with edged tools, and if Pratt had onlyknown it, he was running great risks in using Esther Mawson as asemi-accomplice. Esther Mawson was in constant touch with her mistress, and Mrs. Mallathorpe, afraid of her daughter, and not greatly insympathy with her, badly needed a confidante. Little by little themistress began to confide in the maid, and before long Esther Mawsonknew the secret--and thenceforward she played a double game. Pratt foundher useful in arranging meetings with Mrs. Mallathorpe unknown to Nesta, and he believed her to be devoted to him. But the truth was that EstherMawson had only one object of devotion--herself--and she was waiting andwatching for an opportunity to benefit that object--at Pratt's expense. 

Pratt knew nothing of this as he slowly made his way to Normandale thatmorning. Having plenty of time he went by devious and lonely roads andby-lanes. Eventually he came to the boundary of Normandale Park at apoint far away from the Grange. There he dismounted, hid his bicycle ina coppice wherein he had often left it before, and went on towards thehouse through the woods and plantations. He knew every yard of theground he traversed, and was skilled in taking cover if he saw any signof woodman or gamekeeper. And in the end, just as one o'clock chimedfrom the clock over the stables, he came to a quiet spot in theshrubberies behind the Grange, and found Esther Mawson waiting for himin an old summer-house in which they had met on previous and similaroccasions. 

Esther Mawson immediately realized that something unusual was in theair. Clever as Pratt was at concealing his feelings, she was cleverer inseeing small signs, and she saw that this was no ordinary visit. 

"Anything wrong?" she asked at once. 

"Bit of bother--nothing much--it'll blow over, " answered Pratt, who knewthat a certain amount of candour was necessary in dealing with thiswoman. "But--I shall have to be away for a bit--week or two, perhaps. "

"You want to see her?" inquired Esther. 

"Of course! I've some papers for her to sign, " replied Pratt. "How dothings stand? Coast clear?"

"Miss Mallathorpe's going into Barford after lunch, " answered Esther. "She'll be driving in about half-past two. I can manage it then. Howlong shall you want to be with her?"

"Oh, a quarter of an hour'll do, " said Pratt. "Ten minutes, if it comesto that. "

"And after that?" asked Esther. 

"Then I want to get a train at Scaleby, " replied Pratt, mentioning arailway junction which lay ten miles across country in anotherdirection. "So make it as soon after two-thirty as you can. "

"You can see her as soon as Miss Mallathorpe's gone, " said Esther. "You'd better come into the house--I've got the key of the turret door, and all's clear--the servants are all at dinner. "

"I could do with something myself, " observed Pratt, who, in his anxiety, had only made a light breakfast that morning. "Can it be managed?"

"I'll manage it, " she answered. "Come on--now. "

Behind the summer-house in which they had met a narrow path led throughthe shrubberies to an old part of the Grange which was never used, andwas, in fact, partly ruinous. Esther Mawson led the way along this untilshe and Pratt came to a turret in the grey walls, in the lower story ofwhich a massive oaken door, heavily clamped with iron, gave entrance toa winding stair, locked it from inside when she and Pratt had entered, and preceded her companion up the stair, and across one or two empty anddust-covered chambers to a small room in which a few pieces of ancientfurniture were slowly dropping to decay. Pratt had taken refuge in thisroom before, and he sat down in one of the old chairs and mopped hisforehead. 

"I want something to drink, above everything, " he remarked. "What canyou get?"

"Nothing but wine, " answered Esther Mawson. "As much as you like ofthat, because I've a stock that's kept up in Mrs. Mallathorpe's room. Icouldn't get any ale without going to the butler. I can get wine andsandwiches without anybody knowing. "

"That'll do, " said Pratt. "What sort of wine?"

"Port, sherry, claret, " she replied. "Whichever you like. "

"Sherry, then, " answered Pratt. "Bring a bottle if you can get it--Iwant a good drink. "

The woman went away--through the disused part of the old house into themodern portion. She went straight to a certain store closet and tookfrom it a bottle of old dry sherry which had been brought there from abin in the cellars--it was part of a quantity of fine wine laid down byJohn Mallathorpe, years before, and its original owner would have beendisgusted to think that it should ever be used for the mere purpose ofquenching thirst. But Esther Mawson had another purpose in view, withrespect to that bottle. Carrying it to her own sitting-room, shecarefully cut off the thick mass of sealing-wax at its neck, drew thecork, and poured a little of the wine away. And that done, she unlockeda small box which stood on a corner of her dressing table, and took fromit a glass phial, half full of a colourless liquid. With steady handsand sure fingers, she dropped some of that liquid into the wine, carefully counting the drops. Then she restored the phial to itshiding-place and re-locked the box--after which, taking up a spoon whichlay on her table, she poured out a little of the sherry and smelled andtasted it. No smell--other than that which ought to be there; notaste--other than was proper. Pratt would suspect nothing even if hedrunk the whole bottle. 

Esther Mawson had anticipated Pratt's desires in the way of refreshment, and she now went to a cupboard and took from it a plate of sandwiches, carefully swathed in a napkin. Carrying these in one hand, and thebottle of sherry and a glass in the other, she stole quietly back to thedisused part of the house, and set her provender before its expectantconsumer. Pratt poured out a glassful of the sherry, and drank iteagerly. 

"Good stuff that!" he remarked, smacking his lips. "Some of old JohnMallathorpe's--no doubt. "

"It was here when we came, anyhow, " replied Esther. "Well--I shall haveto go. You'll be all right until I come back. "

"What time do you think it'll be?" asked Pratt. "Make it as soon as thecoast's clear--I want to be off. "

"As soon as ever she's gone, " agreed Esther. "I heard her order thecarriage for half-past two. "

"And no fear of anybody else being about?" asked Pratt. "That butlerman, for instance? Or servants?"

"I'll see to it, " replied Esther reassuringly. "I'll lock this door andtake the key until I come back--make yourself comfortable. "

She locked Pratt in the old room and went off, and the willing prisonerate his sandwiches and drank his sherry, and looked out of a mullionedwindow on the wide stretches of park and coppice and the breezymoorlands beyond. He indulged in some reflections--not wholly devoid ofsentiment. He had cherished dreams of becoming the virtual owner ofNormandale. Always confident in his own powers, he had believed thatwith time and patience he could have persuaded Nesta Mallathorpe tomarry him--why not? Now--all owing to that cursed and unfortunatecontretemps with Parrawhite, that seemed utterly impossible--all hecould do now was to save himself--and to take as much as he could get. More than once that morning, as he made his way across country, he hadremembered Parrawhite's advice to take cash and be done withit--perhaps, he reflected, it might have been better. Still--when hepresently began his final retreat, he would carry away with him a lot ofthe Mallathorpe money. 

But before long Pratt indulged in no more reflections--sentiment orpractical. He had eaten all his sandwiches; he had drunk three-quartersof the bottle of sherry. And suddenly he felt unusually drowsy, and helaid his head back in his big chair, and fell soundly asleep. 

CHAPTER XXVI

THE TELEPHONE MESSAGE

If Pratt had only known what was going on in the old quarries atWhitcliffe, about the very time that he was riding slowly out to Barfordon his bicycle, he would not only have accelerated his pace, but wouldhave taken good care to have chosen another route: he would also havemade haste to exchange bicycle for railway train as quickly as possible, and to have got himself far away before anybody could begin looking forhim in his usual haunts, or at places wherein there was a possibility ofhis being found. But Pratt knew nothing of what Byner had done. He wasconscious of Byner's visit to the _Green Man_. He did not know whatPickard had been told by Bill Thomson. He was unaware of anything whichPickard had told to Byner. If he had known that Byner, guided byPickard, had been to the old quarries, had fixed his inquiring eye onthe shaft which was filled to its brim with water, and had got certainideas from the mere sight of it, Pratt would have hastened to puthundreds of miles between himself and Barford as quickly as possible. But all that Pratt knew was that there was a possibility ofsuspicion--which might materialize eventually, but not immediately. 

On the previous evening, Pratt--had he but known it--made a greatmistake. Instead of going into Murgatroyd's shop after he had watchedByner and Prydale away from it--he should have followed those two astuteand crafty persons, and have ascertained something of their movements. Had he done so, he would certainly not have troubled to return to PeelRow, nor to remain in Barford an hour longer than was absolutelynecessary. For Pratt was sharp-witted enough when it came to a questionof putting one and two together, and if he had tracked Prydale and theunknown man who was with him to a certain house whereto they repaired assoon as they quitted Murgatroyd's shop, he would have drawn an inferencefrom the mere fact of their visit which would have thrown him into acold sweat of fear. But Pratt, after all, was only one man, one brain, one body, and could not be in two places, nor go in two ways, at thesame time. He took his own way--ignorant of his destruction. 

Byner also took a way of his own. As soon as he and Prydale leftMurgatroyd's shop, they chartered the first cab they met with, andordered its driver to go to Whitcliffe Moor. 

"It's the quickest thing to do--if my theory's correct, " observed Byner, as they drove along, "Of course, it is all theory--mere theory! But I'vegrounds for it. The place--the time--mere lonely situation--that scrapiron lying about, which would be so useful in weighting a dead body!--Itell you, I shall be surprised if we don't find Parrawhite at the bottomof that water!"

"I shouldn't wonder, " agreed Prydale. "One thing's very certain, as weshall prove before we're through with it--Pratt's put that poor devilMurgatroyd up to this passage-to-America business. And a bit clumsily, too--fancy Murgatroyd being no better posted up than to tell me thatParrawhite called on him at a certain hour that night!"

"But you've got to remember that Pratt didn't know of Parrawhite'saffairs with Pickard, nor that he was at the _Green Man_ at that hour, "rejoined Byner. "My belief is that Pratt thinks himself safe--that hefancies he's provided for all contingencies. If things turn out as Ithink they will, I believe we shall find Pratt calmly seated at his desktomorrow morning. "

"Well--if things do turn out as you expect, we'll lose no time inseeking him there!" observed Prydale dryly. "We'd better arrange to getthe job done first thing. "

"This Mr. Shepherd'll make no objection, I suppose?" asked Byner. 

"Objection! Lor' bless you--he'll love it!" exclaimed Prydale. "It'll bea bit of welcome diversion to a man like him that's naught to do. He'llobject none, not he!"

Shepherd, a retired quarry-owner, who lived in a picturesque old stonehouse in the middle of Whitcliffe Moor, with nothing to occupy hisattention but the growing of roses and vegetables, and an occasionalglance at the local newspapers, listened to Prydale's request withgradually rising curiosity. Byner had at once seen that this call waswelcome to this bluff and hearty Yorkshireman, who, without any questionas to their business, had immediately welcomed them to his hearth andpressed liquor and cigars on them: he sized up Shepherd as a man to whomany sort of break in the placid course of retired life was a delightfulevent. 

"A dead man i' that old shaft i' one o' my worked out quarries!" heexclaimed. "Ye don't mean to say so! An' how long d'yer think he mightha' been there, now, Prydale?"

"Some months, Mr. Shepherd, " replied the detective. 

"Why, then it's high time he were taken out, " said Shepherd. "When mightyou be thinkin' o' doin' t' job, like?"

"As soon as possible, " said Prydale. "Tomorrow morning, early, if that'sconvenient to you. "

"I'll tell you what I'll do, " observed the retired quarry-owner. "Youleave t' job to me. I'll get two or three men first thing tomorrowmorning, and we'll do it reight. You be up there by half-past eighto'clock, and we'll soon satisfy you as to whether there's owt i' t'shape of a dead man or not i' t' pit. You hev' grounds for believin' 'attheer is----what?"

"Strong grounds!" replied the detective, "and equally strong ones forbelieving the man came there by foul play, too. "

"Say no more!" said Shepherd. "T' mystery shall be cleared up. Deary me!An' to think 'at I've walked past yon theer pit many a dozen timeswithin this last few o' months, and nivver dreamed 'at theer wor owt init but watter! Howivver, gentlemen, ye can put yer minds at ease--we'llinvestigate the circumstances, as the sayin' goes, before noontomorrow. "

"One other matter, " remarked Prydale. "We want things kept quiet. Wedon't want all the folk of the neighbourhood round about, you know. "

"Leave it to me, " answered Shepherd. "There'll be me, and these men, andyourselves--and a pair of grapplin' irons. We'll do it quiet andcomfortable--and we'll do it reight. "

"Odd character!" remarked Byner, when he and Prydale went away. 

"Useful man--for a job of that sort, " said the detective laconically. "Now then--are we going to let anybody else know what we're after--Mr. Eldrick or Mr. Collingwood, for instance? Do you want them, or either ofthem, to be present?"

"No!" answered Byner, after a moment's reflection. "Let us see whatresults. We can let them know, soon enough, if we've anything to tell. But--what about Pratt?"

"Keeping an eye on him--you mean?" said Prydale. "You said just now thatin your opinion we should find him at his desk. "

"Just so--but that's no reason why he shouldn't be looked after tomorrowmorning, " answered Byner. 

"All right--I'll put a man on to shadow him, from the time he leaves hislodgings until--until we want him, " said the detective. "That is--if wedo want him. "

"It will be one of the biggest surprises I ever had in my life if wedon't!" asserted Byner. "I never felt more certain of anything than I doof finding Parrawhite's body in that pit!"

It was this certainty which made Byner appear extraordinarily cool andcollected, when next day, about noon, he walked into Eldrick's privateroom, where Collingwood was at that moment asking the solicitor what wasbeing done. The certainty was now established, and it seemed to Bynerthat it would have been a queer thing if he had not always had it. Heclosed the door and gave the two men an informing glance. 

"Parrawhite's body has been found, " he said quietly. 

Eldrick started in his chair, and Collingwood looked a sharp inquiry. 

"Little doubt about his having been murdered, just as I conjectured, "continued Byner. "And his murderer had pretty cleverly weighted his bodywith scrap iron, before dropping it into a pit full of water, where itmight have remained for a long time undiscovered. However--that'ssettled!"

Eldrick got out the first question. 

"Pratt?"

"Prydale's after him, " answered Byner. "I expect we shall hear somethingin a few minutes--if he's in town. But I confess I'm a bit doubtful andanxious now, on that score. Because, when Prydale and I got down fromWhitcliffe half an hour ago--where the body's now lying, at the _GreenMan_, awaiting the inquest--we found Murgatroyd hanging about the policestation. He'd come to make a clean breast of it--about Pratt. And itunfortunately turns out that Pratt saw Prydale and me go to Murgatroyd'sshop last night, and afterwards went in there himself, and of coursepumped Murgatroyd dry as to why we'd been. "

"Why unfortunately?" asked Collingwood. 

"Because that would warn Pratt that something was afoot, " said Byner. "And--he may have disappeared during the night. He----"

But just then Prydale came in, shaking his head. 

"I'm afraid he's off!" he announced. "I'd a man watching for him outsidehis lodgings from an early hour this morning, but he never came out, andfinally my man made an excuse and asked for him there, and then he heardthat he'd never been home last night. And his office is closed. "

"What steps are you taking?" asked Byner. 

"I've got men all over the place already, " replied Prydale. "But--if hegot off in the night, as I'm afraid he did, we shan't find him inBarford. It's a most unlucky thing that he saw us go to Murgatroyd'slast evening! That, of course, would set him off: he'd know things werereaching a crisis. "

Eldrick and Collingwood had arranged to lunch together that day, andthey presently went off, asking the detective to keep them informed ofevents. But up to half-past three o 'clock they heard no more--then, asthey were returning along the street Byner came running up to them. 

"Prydale's just had a telephone message from the butler at Normandale!"he exclaimed. "Pratt is there!--and something extraordinary is going on:the butler wants the police. We're off at once--there's Prydale in amotor, waiting for me. Will you follow?"

He darted away again, and Eldrick looking round for a car, suddenlyrecognized the Mallathorpe livery. 

"Great Scott!" he said. "There's Miss Mallathorpe--just driving in. Better tell her!"

A moment later, he and Collingwood had joined Nesta in her carriage, andthe horses' heads were turned in the direction towards which Byner andPrydale were already hastening. 

CHAPTER XXVII

RESTORED TO ENERGY

Esther Mawson, leaving Pratt to enjoy his sherry and sandwiches at hisleisure, went away through the house, out into the gardens, and acrossthe shrubbery to the stables. The coachman and grooms were atdinner--with the exception of one man who lived in a cottage at theentrance to the stable-yard. This was the very man she wanted to see, and she found him in the saddle-room, and beckoned him to its door. 

"Mrs. Mallathorpe wants me to go over to Scaleby on an errand for herthis afternoon, " she said. "Can you have the dog-cart ready, at theSouth Garden gate at three o'clock sharp? And--without saying anythingto the coachman? It's a private errand. "

Of late this particular groom had received several commissions of thissort, and being a sharp fellow he had observed that they were generallygiven to him when Miss Mallathorpe was out. 

"All right, " he answered. "The young missis is going out in the carriageat half-past two. South Garden gate--three sharp. Anybody but you?"

"Only me, " replied Esther. "Don't say anything to anybody about wherewe're going. Get the dog-cart ready after the carriage has gone. "

The groom nodded in comprehension, and Esther went back to the house andto her own room. She ought at that time of day to have been eating herdinner with the rest of the upper servants, but she had work to do whichwas of much more importance than the consumption of food and drink. There was going to be a flight that afternoon--but it would not be Prattwho would undertake it. Esther Mawson had carefully calculated all herchances as soon as Pratt told her that he was going to be away for awhile. She knew that Pratt would not have left Barford for anyindefinite period unless something had gone seriously wrong. But sheknew more--by inference and intuition. If Pratt was going away--rather, since he was going away, he would have on his person things ofvalue--documents, money. She meant to gain possession of everything thathe had; she meant to have a brief interview with Mrs. Mallathorpe; thenshe meant to drive to Scaleby--and to leave that part of the countryjust as thoroughly and completely as Pratt had meant to leave it. Andnow in her own room she was completing her preparations. There waslittle to do. She knew that if her venture came off successfully, shecould easily afford to leave her personal possessions behind her, andthat she would be all the more free and unrestricted in her movements ifshe departed without as much as a change of clothes and linen. And so bytwo o'clock she had arrayed herself in a neat and unobtrusivetailor-made travelling costume, had put on an equally neat and plainhat, had rolled her umbrella, and laid it, her gloves, and a cloak wherethey could be readily picked up, and had attached to her slim waist ahand-bag--by means of a steel chain which she secured by a small padlockas soon as she had arranged it to her satisfaction. She was not the sortof woman to leave a hand-bag lying about in a railway carriage at anytime, but in this particular instance she was not going to run any riskof even a moment's forgetfulness. 

Everything was in readiness by twenty minutes past two, and she took upher position in a window from which she could see the front door of thehouse. At half-past two the carriage and its two fine bay horses cameround from the stables; a minute or two later Nesta Mallathorpe emergedfrom the hall; yet another minute and the carriage was whirling down thepark in the direction of Barford. And then Esther moved from the window, picked up the umbrella, the cloak, the gloves, and went off in thedirection of the room wherein she had left Pratt. 

No one ever went near those old rooms except on some special errand orbusiness, and there was a dead silence all around her as she turned thekey in the lock and slipped inside the door--to lock it again as soon asshe had entered. There was an equally deep silence within the room--andfor a moment she glanced a little fearfully at the recumbent figure inthe old, deep-backed chair. Pratt had stretched himself fully in hiseasy quarters---his legs lay extended across the moth-eaten hearth-rug;his head and shoulders were thrown far back against the faded tapestry, and he was so still that he might have been supposed to be dead. ButEsther Mawson had tried the effect of that particular drug on a goodmany people, and she knew that the victim in this instance was merelyplunged in a sleep from which nothing whatever could wake him yetawhile. And after one searching glance at him, and one lifting of aneyelid by a practised finger, she went rapidly and thoroughly throughPratt's pockets, and within a few minutes of entering the room hadcleared them of everything they contained. The sealed packet which hehad taken from his safe that morning; the bank-notes which Mrs. Murgatroyd had returned in her indignant letter; another roll of notes, of considerable value, in a note-case; a purse containing notes and goldto a large amount--all those she laid one by one on a dust-coveredtable. And finally--and as calmly as if she were sorting linen--sheswept bank-notes, gold, and purse into her steel-chained bag, and toreopen the sealed envelope. 

There were five documents in that envelope--Esther examined each withmeticulous care. The first was an authority to Linford Pratt to sellcertain shares standing in the name of Ann Mallathorpe. The second was asimilar document relating to other shares: each was complete, save forAnn Mallathorpe's signature. The third document was the power ofattorney which Ann Mallathorpe had given to Linford Pratt: the fourth, the letter which she had written to him on the evening before the fatalaccident to Harper. And the fifth was John Mallathorpe's will. 

At last she held in her hand the half-sheet of foolscap paper of whichMrs. Mallathorpe, driven to distraction, and knowing that she would getno sympathy from her own daughter, had told her. She was a woman of aquick and an understanding mind, and she had read the will through andgrasped its significance as swiftly as her eyes ran over it. And thoseeyes turned to the unconscious Pratt with a flash of contempt--she, atany rate, would not follow his foolish example, and play for too high astake--no, she would make hay while the sun shone its hottest! She wasof the Parrawhite persuasion--better, far better one good bird in thehand than a score of possible birds in the bush. 

She presently restored the five documents to the stout envelope, pickedup her other belongings, and without so much as a glance at Pratt, leftthe room. She turned the key in the door and took it away with her. Andnow she went straight to a certain sitting-room which Mrs. Mallathorpehad tenanted by day ever since her illness. The final and most importantstage of Esther's venture was at hand. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe sat at an open window, wearily gazing out on the park. Ever since her son's death she had remained in a more or less torpidcondition, rarely talking to any person except Esther Mawson: it hadbeen manifest from the first that her daughter's presence distressed andirritated her, and by the doctor's advice Nesta had gone to her aslittle as possible, while taking every care to guard her and see to hercomfort. All day long she sat brooding--and only Esther Mawson, now forsome time in her full confidence, knew that her brooding was rapidlydeveloping into a monomania. Mrs. Mallathorpe, indeed, had but onethought in her mind--the eventual circumventing of Pratt, and thedestruction of John Mallathorpe's will. 

She turned slowly as the maid came in and carefully closed the doorbehind her, and her voice was irritable and querulous as she at oncebegan to complain. 

"You've never been near me for two hours!" she said. "Your dinner timewas over long since! I might have been wanting all sorts of things foraught you cared!"

"I've had something else to do--for you!" retorted Esther, coming closeto her mistress. "Listen, now!--I've got it!"

Mrs. Mallathorpe's attitude and manner suddenly changed. She caughtsight of the packet of papers in the woman's hand, and at once sprang toher feet, white and trembling. Instinctively she held out her own handsand moved a little nearer to the maid. And Esther quickly put the tablebetween them, and shook her head. 

"No--no!" she exclaimed. "No handling of anything--yet! You keep yourhands off! You were ready enough to bargain with Pratt--now you'll haveto bargain with me. But I'm not such a fool as he was--I'll take cashdown, and be done with it. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe rested her trembling hands on the table and bentforward across it. 

"Is it--is it--really--the will?" she whispered hoarsely. 

Instead of replying in words, Esther, taking care to keep at a safedistance behind the table, and with the door only a yard or two in herrear, drew out the documents one by one and held them up. 

"The will!" she said. "Your letter to Pratt. The power of attorney. Twopapers that he brought for you to sign. That's the lot! And now, as Isaid, we'll bargain. "

"Where is--he?" asked Mrs. Mallathorpe. "How--how did you get them? Doeshe know--did he give them up?"

"If you want to know, he's safe and sound asleep in one of the rooms inthe old part of the house, " answered Esther. "I drugged him. There'ssomething afoot--something gone wrong with his schemes--at Barford, andhe came here on his way--elsewhere. And so--I took the chance. Nowthen--what are you going to give me?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe, whose nervous agitation was becoming more and moremarked, wrung her hands. 

"I've nothing to give!" she cried. "You know very well he's had themanagement of everything--I don't know how things are----"

"Stuff!" exclaimed Esther. "I know better than that. You've a lot ofready money in that desk there--you know you drew a lot out of the banksome time ago, and it's there now. You kept it for a contingency--thecontingency's here. And--you've your rings--the diamond and rubyrings--I know what they're worth! Come on, now--I mean to have the wholelot, so it's no use hesitating. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe looked at the maid's bold and resolute eyes--and thenat the papers. And she glanced from eyes and papers to a bright firewhich burned in the grate close by. 

"You'll give everything up?" she asked nervously. 

"Put those bank-notes that you've got in your desk, and those rings thatare in your jewel-case, on the table between us, " answered Esther, "andI'll hand over these papers on the instant! I'm not going to be such afool as to keep them--not I! Come on, now!--isn't this the chance you'vewanted?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe drew a small bunch of keys from her gown, and went overto the desk which Esther had pointed to. Within a minute she was backagain at the table, a roll of bank notes in one hand, half a dozenmagnificent rings in the other. She put both hands halfway across andunclasped them. And Esther Mawson, with a light laugh, threw the papersover the table, and hastily swept their price into her handbag. 

Mrs. Mallathorpe's nerves suddenly became steady. With a deep sigh shecaught up the various documents and looked them quickly and thoroughlyover. Then she tore them into fragments and flung the fragments in thefire--and as they blazed up, she turned and looked at Esther Mawson in away which made Esther shrink a little. But she was already at thedoor--and she opened it and walked out and down the stair. 

She was half-way across the hall beneath, where the butler and one ofthe footmen were idly talking, when a sharp cry from above made her thenlook up. Mrs. Mallathorpe, suddenly restored to life and energy, wasleaning over the balustrade. 

"Stop that woman, you men!" she said. "Seize her! Fasten her up!--lockthe door wherever you put her! She's stolen my rings, and a lot of moneyout of my desk! And telephone instantly to Barford, and tell them tosend the police here--at once!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE WOMAN IN BLACK

Nesta Mallathorpe, who had just arrived in Barford when Eldrick caughtsight of her, was seriously startled as he and Collingwood came runningup to her carriage. The solicitor entered it without ceremony orexplanation, and turning to the coachman bade him drive back toNormandale as fast as he could make his horses go. Meanwhile Collingwoodturned to Nesta. "Don't be alarmed!" he said. "Something is happening atthe Grange--your mother has just telephoned to the police here to gothere at once--there they are--in front of us, in that car!"

"Did my mother say if she was in danger?" demanded Nesta. 

"She can't be!" exclaimed Eldrick, turning from the coachman, as thehorses were whipped round and the carriage moved off. "She evidentlygave orders for the message. No--Pratt's there! And--but of course, youdon't know--the police want Pratt. They've been searching for him sincenoon. He's wanted for murder!"

"Don't frighten Miss Mallathorpe, " said Collingwood. "The murder hasnothing to do with present events, " he went on reassuringly. "It'ssomething that happened some time ago. Don't be afraid about yourmother--there are plenty of people round her, you know. "

"I can't help feeling anxious if Pratt is there, " she answered. "How didhe come to be there? It's not an hour since I left home. This is allsome of Esther Mawson's work! And we shall have to wait nearly an hourbefore we know what is going on!--it's all uphill work to Normandale, and the horses can't do it in the time. "

"Eldrick!" said Collingwood, as the carriage came abreast of the CentralStation and a long line of motorcars. "Stop the coachman! Let's get oneof those cars--we shall get to Normandale twice as quickly. The mainthing is to relieve Miss Mallathorpe of anxiety. Now!" he went on, asthey hastily left the carriage and transferred themselves to a carquickly scented by Eldrick as the most promising of the lot. "Tell thedriver to go as fast as he can--the other car's not very far infront--tell him to catch it up. "

Eldrick leaned over and gave his orders. 

"I've told him not only to catch him up, but to get in front of 'em, " hesaid, settling down again in his seat. "This is a better car thantheirs, and we shall be there first. Now, Miss Mallathorpe, don't youbother--this is probably going to be the clearing-up point ofeverything. One feels certain, at any rate--Pratt has reached the end ofhis tether!"

"If I seem to bother, " replied Nesta, "it's because I know that he andEsther Mawson are at Normandale--working mischief. "

"We shall be there in half an hour, " said Collingwood, as their own carran past that in which the detectives and Byner were seated. "They can'tdo much mischief in that time. "

None of the three spoke again until the car pulled up suddenly at thegates of Normandale Park. The lodge-keeper, an old man, coming out toopen them, approached the door of the car on seeing Nesta within. 

"There's a young woman just gone up to the house that wants to see youvery particular, miss, " he said. "I tell'd her that you'd gone toBarford, but she said she'd come a long way, and she'd wait till youcome back. She's going across the park there--crossin' yon path. "

He pointed over the level sward to the slight figure of a woman inblack, who was obviously taking a near cut up to the Grange. Nestalooked wonderingly across the park as the car cleared the gate and wenton up the drive. 

"Who can she be?" she said musingly. "A woman from a long way--to seeme?"

"She'll get to the house soon after we reach it, " said Eldrick. "Let'sattend to this more pressing business first. We should know what's afoothere in a minute or two. "

But it was somewhat difficult to make out or to discover what really wasafoot. The car stopped at the hall door: the second car came closebehind it; Nesta, Collingwood, Eldrick, Byner, and the detectives pouredinto the hall--encountered a much mystified-looking butler, a couple offootmen, and the groom whose services Esther Mawson had requisitioned, and who, weary of waiting for her, had come up to the house. 

"What's all this?" asked Eldrick, taking the situation into his ownhands. "What's the matter? Why did you send for the police?"

"Mrs. Mallathorpe's orders, sir, " answered the butler, with anapologetic glance at his young mistress. "Really, sir, I don'tknow--exactly--what is the matter! We are all so confused! What happenedwas, that not very long after Miss Mallathorpe had left for town in thecarriage, Esther Mawson, the maid, came downstairs from Mrs. Mallathorpe's room, and was crossing the lower part of the hall, whenMrs. Mallathorpe suddenly appeared up there and called to me and Jamesto stop her and lock her up, as she'd stolen money and jewels! We wereto lock her up and telephone for the police, sir, and to add that Mr. Pratt was here. "

"Well?" demanded Eldrick. 

"We did lock her up, sir! She's in my pantry, " continued the butler, ruefully. "We've got her in there because there are bars to thewindows--she can't get out of that. A terrible time we had, too, sir--she fought us like--like a maniac, protesting all the time thatMrs. Mallathorpe had given her what she had on her. Of course, sir, wedon't know what she may have on her--we simply obeyed Mrs. Mallathorpe. "

"Where is Mrs. Mallathorpe?" asked Collingwood. "Is she safe?"

"Oh, quite safe, sir!" replied the butler. "She returned to her roomafter giving those orders. Mrs. Mallathorpe appeared to be--quite calm, sir. "

Prydale pushed himself forward--unceremoniously and insistently. 

"Keep that woman locked up!" he said. "First of all--where's Pratt?"

"Mrs. Mallathorpe said he would be found in a room in the old part ofthe house, " answered the butler, shaking his head as if he werethoroughly mystified. "She said you would find him fast asleep--Mawsonhad drugged him!"

Prydale looked at Byner and at his fellow-detectives. Then he turned tothe butler. 

"Come on!" he said brusquely. "Take us there at once!" He glanced atEldrick. "I'm beginning to see through it, Mr. Eldrick!" he whispered. "This maid's caught Pratt for us. Let's hope he's still----"

But before he could say more, and just as the butler opened a door whichled into a corridor at the rear of the hall, a sharp crack which wasunmistakably that of a revolver, rang through the house, waking equallysharp echoes in the silent room. And at that, Nesta hurried up thestairway to her mother's apartment, and the men, after a hurried glanceat each other, ran along the corridor after the butler and the footmen. 

Pratt came out of his stupor much sooner than Esther Mawson had reckonedon. According to her previous experiments with the particular drug whichshe had administered to him, he ought to have remained in a profound andan undisturbed slumber until at least five o'clock. But he woke atfour--woke suddenly, sharply, only conscious at first of a terrible painin his head, which kept him groaning and moaning in his chair for aminute or two before he fairly realized where he was and what hadhappened. As the pain became milder and gave way to a dull throbbing anda general sense of discomfort, he looked round out of aching eyes andsaw the bottle of sherry. And so dull were his wits that his onlythought at first was that the wine had been far stronger than he hadknown, and that he had drunk far too much of it, and that it had senthim to sleep--and just then his wandering glance fell on some paperswhich Esther Mawson had taken from one of his pockets and thrown asideas of no value. 

He leapt to his feet, trembling and sweating. His hands, shaking as ifsmitten with a sudden palsy, went to his pockets--he tore off his coatand turned his pockets out, as if touch and feeling were not to bebelieved, and his eyes must see that there was really nothing there. Then he snatched up the papers on the floor and found nothing butletters, and odd scraps of unimportant memoranda. He stamped his feet onthose things, and began to swear and curse, and finally to sob andwhine. The shock of his discovery had driven all his stupefaction awayby that time, and he knew what had happened. And his whining and sobbingwas not that of despair, but the far worse and fiercer sobbing andwhining of rage and terrible anger. If the woman who had tricked him hadbeen there he would have torn her limb from limb, and have gluttedhimself with revenge. But--he was alone. 

And presently, after moving around his prison more like a wild beastthan a human being, his senses having deserted him for a while, heregained some composure, and glanced about him for means of escape. Hewent to the door and tried it. But the old, substantial oak stood firmand fast--nothing but a crow-bar would break that door. And so he turnedto the mullioned window, set in a deep recess. 

He knew that it was thirty or forty feet above the level of theground--but there was much thick ivy growing on the walls of NormandaleGrange, and it might be possible to climb down by its aid. With a greateffort he forced open one of the dirt-encrusted sashes and lookedout--and in the same instant he drew in his head with a harsh groan. Thewindow commanded a full view of the hall door--and he had seen Prydale, and two other detectives, and the stranger from London whom he believedto be a detective, hurrying from their motorcar into the house. 

There was but one thing for it, now. Esther Mawson had robbed him ofeverything that was on him in the way of papers and money. But in hiship-pocket she had left a revolver which Pratt had carried, alwaysloaded, for some time. And now, without the least hesitation, he drew itout and sent one of its bullets through his brain. 

 * * * * *

Eldrick and Collingwood, returning to the hall from the room in whichthey and the detectives had found Pratt's dead body, stood a littlelater in earnest conversation with Prydale, who had just come there froman interview with Esther Mawson. Nesta Mallathorpe suddenly called tothem from the stairs, at the same time beckoning them to go up to her. 

"Will you come with me and speak to my mother?" she said. "She knows youare here, and she wants to say something about what hashappened--something about that document which Pratt said he possessed. "

Eldrick and Collingwood exchanged glances without speaking. Theyfollowed Nesta into her mother's sitting-room. And instead of thesemi-invalid whom they had expected to find there, they saw a woman whohad evidently regained not only her vivacity and her spirits but hersense of authority and her inclination to exercise it. 

"I am sorry that you gentlemen should have been drawn into all thiswretched business!" she exclaimed, as she pointed the two men to chairs. "Everything must seem very strange, and indeed have seemed so for sometime. But I have been the victim of as bad a scoundrel as everlived--I'm not going to be so hypocritical as to pretend that I'm sorryhe's dead--I'm not! I only wish he'd met his proper fate--on thescaffold. I don't know what you may have heard, or gathered--my daughterherself, from what she tells me, has only the vaguest notions--but Iwanted to tell you, Mr. Eldrick, and you, Mr. Collingwood--seeing thatyou're one a solicitor and the other a barrister, that Pratt invented amost abominable plot against me, which, of course, hasn't a word oftruth in it, yet was so clever that----"

Eldrick suddenly raised his hand. 

"Mrs. Mallathorpe!" he said quietly. "I think you had better let mespeak before you go any further. Perhaps we--Mr. Collingwood and I--knowmore than you think. Don't trifle, Mrs. Mallathorpe, for your own andyour daughter's sake! Tell the truth--and answer a plain question, whichI assure you, is asked in your own interest. What have you done withJohn Mallathorpe's will?"

Collingwood, anxious for Nesta, was watching her closely, and now he sawher turn a startled and inquiring look on her mother, who, in her turn, dashed a surprised glance at Eldrick. But if Mrs. Mallathorpe wassurprised, she was also indignant, or she simulated indignation, and shereplied to the solicitor's question with a sharp retort. 

"What do you mean?--John Mallathorpe's will!" she exclaimed. "What do Iknow of John Mallathorpe's will? There never was----"

"Mrs. Mallathorpe!" interrupted Eldrick. "Don't! I'm speaking in yourinterest, I tell you! There was a will! It was made on the morning ofJohn Mallathorpe's death. It was found by Mr. Collingwood's lategrandfather, Antony Bartle: when he died suddenly in my office, it fellinto Pratt's hands. That is the document which Pratt held over you--andnot an hour ago, Esther Mawson took it from Pratt, and she gave it toyou. Again I ask you--what have you done with it?"

Mrs. Mallathorpe hesitated a moment. Then she suddenly faced Eldrickwith a defiant look. "Let them--let everybody--do what they like!" sheexclaimed. "It's burnt! I threw it in that fire as soon as I got it! Andnow----"

Nesta interrupted her mother. 

"Does any one know the terms of that will?" she asked, looking atEldrick. "Tell me!--if you know. Hush!" she went on, as Mrs. Mallathorpetried to speak again. "I will know!"

"Yes!" answered Eldrick. "Esther Mawson knows them. She read the willcarefully. She told Prydale just now what they were. With the exceptionof three legacies of ten thousand pounds each to your mother, yourbrother, and yourself, John Mallathorpe left everything he possessed tothe town of Barford for an educational trust. "

"Then, " asked Nesta quietly, as she made a peremptory sign to her motherto be silent, "we--never had any right to be here--at all?"

"I'm afraid not, " replied Eldrick. 

"Then of course we shall go, " said Nesta. "That's certain! Do you hearthat, mother? That's my decision. It's final!"

"You can do what you like, " retorted Mrs. Mallathorpe sullenly. "I amnot going to be frightened by anything that Esther Mawson says. Nor bywhat you say!" she continued, turning on Eldrick. "All that has got tobe proved. Who can prove it? What can prove it? Do you think I am goingto give up my rights without fighting for them? I shall swear that everyword of Esther Mawson's is a lie! No one can bring forward a will thatdoesn't exist. And what concern is it of yours, Mr. Eldrick? What righthave you?"

"You are quite right, Mrs. Mallathorpe, " said Eldrick. "It is no concernof mine. And so----"

He turned to the door--and as he turned the door opened, to admit theold butler who looked apologetically but earnestly at Nesta as hestepped forward. 

"A Mrs. Gaukrodger wishes to see you on very particular business, " hemurmured. "She's been waiting some little time--something, she says, about some papers she has just found--belonging to the late Mr. JohnMallathorpe. "

Collingwood, who was standing close to Nesta, caught all the butlersaid. 

"Gaukrodger!" he exclaimed, with a quick glance at Eldrick. "That wasthe name of the manager--a witness. See the woman at once, " he whisperedto Nesta. 

"Bring Mrs. Gaukrodger in, Dickenson, " said Nesta. "Stay--I'll come withyou, and bring her in myself. "

She returned a moment later with a slightly built, rather careworn womandressed in deep mourning--the woman in black whom they had seen crossingthe park--who looked nervously round her as she entered. 

"What is it you have for me, Mrs. Gaukrodger?" asked Nesta. "Papersbelonging to the late Mr. John Mallathorpe? How--where did you getthem?"

Mrs. Gaukrodger drew a large envelope from under her cloak. "This, miss, " she answered. "One paper--I only found it this morning. In thisway, " she went on, addressing herself to Nesta. "When my husband waskilled, along with Mr. John Mallathorpe, they, of course, brought homethe clothes he was wearing. There were a lot of papers in the pockets ofthe coat--two pockets full of them. And I hadn't heart or courage tolook at them at that time, miss!--I couldn't, and I locked them up in abox. I never looked at them until this very day--but this morning Ihappened to open that box, and I saw them, and I thought I'd see whatthey were. And this was one--you see, it's in a plain envelope--it wassealed, but there's no writing on it. I cut the envelope open, and drewthe paper out, and I saw at once it was Mr. John Mallathorpe's will--soI came straight to you with it. "

She handed the envelope over to Nesta, who at once gave it to Eldrick. The solicitor hastily drew out the enclosure, glanced it over, andturned sharply to Collingwood with a muttered exclamation. 

"Good gracious!" he said. "That man Cobcroft was right! There _was_ aduplicate! And here it is!"

Mrs. Mallathorpe had come nearer. The sight of the half sheet offoolscap in Eldrick's hands seemed to fascinate her. And the expressionof her face as she came close to his side was so curious that thesolicitor involuntarily folded up the will and hastily put it behind hisback--he had not only seen that expression but had caught sight of Mrs. Mallathorpe's twitching fingers. 

"Is--that--that--another will?" she whispered. "John Mallathorpe's?"

"Precisely the same--another copy--duly signed and witnessed!" answeredEldrick firmly. "What you foolishly did was done for nothing. And--it'sthe most fortunate thing in the world, Mrs. Mallathorpe, that this hasturned up!--most fortunate for you!"

Mrs. Mallathorpe steadied herself on the edge of the table and looked athim fixedly. "Everything'll have to be given up?" she asked. 

"The terms of this will will be carried out, " answered Eldrick. 

"Will--will they make me give up--what we've--saved?" she whispered. 

"Mother!" said Nesta appealingly. "Don't! Come away somewhere and let metalk to you--come!"

But Mrs. Mallathorpe shook off her daughter's hand and turned again toEldrick. 

"Will they?" she demanded. "Answer!"

"I don't think you'll find the trustees at all hard when it comes to aquestion of account, " answered Eldrick. "They'll probably take mattersover from now and ignore anything that's happened during the past twoyears. "

Again Nesta tried to lead her mother away, and again Mrs. Mallathorpepushed the appealing hand from her. All her attention was fixed onEldrick. "And--and will the police give me--now--what they found on thatwoman?" she whispered. 

"I have no doubt they will, " replied Eldrick. "It's--yours. "

Mrs. Mallathorpe drew a sigh of relief. She looked at the solicitorsteadily for a moment--then without another word she turned and wentaway--to find Prydale. 

Eldrick turned to Nesta. 

"Don't forget, " he said in a low voice, "it's a terrible blow to her, and she's been thinking of your interests! Leave her alone for awhile--she'll get used to the altered circumstances. I'm sorry forher--and for you!"

But Nesta made a sign of dissent. 

"There's no need to be sorry for me, Mr. Eldrick, " she answered. "It's agreater relief than you can realize. " She turned from him and went overto Mrs. Gaukrodger who had watched this scene without fullycomprehending it. "Come with me, " she said. "You look very tired and youmust have some tea and rest awhile--come now. "

Eldrick and Collingwood, left alone, looked at each, other in silencefor a moment. Then the solicitor shook his head expressively. 

"Well, that's over!" he exclaimed. "I must go back and hand this willover to the two trustees. But you, Collingwood--stay here a bit--if everthat girl needs company and help, it's now!"

"I'm stopping, " said Collingwood. 

He remained for a time where Eldrick left him; at last he went down tothe hall and out into the gardens. And presently Nesta came to himthere, and as if with a mutual understanding they walked away into thenearer stretches of the park. Normandale had never looked more beautifulthan it did that afternoon, and in the midst of a silence which up tothen neither of them had cared to break, Collingwood suddenly turned tothe girl who had just lost it. 

"Are you sure that you won't miss all this--greatly?" he asked. "Justthink!"

"I'd rather lose more than this, however fond I'd got of it, than gothrough what I've gone through lately, " she answered frankly. "Do youknow what I want to do?"

"No--I think not, " he said. "What?"

"If it's possible--to forget all about this, " she replied. "And--ifthat's also possible--to help my mother to forget, too. Don't think toohardly of her--I don't suppose any of us know how much all thisplace--and the money--meant to her. "

"I've got no hard thoughts about her, " said Collingwood. "I'm sorry forher. But--is it too soon to talk about the future?"

Nesta looked at him in a way which showed him that she only halfcomprehended the question. But there was sufficient comprehension in hereyes to warrant him in taking her hands in his. 

"You know why I didn't go to India?" he said, bending his face to hers. 

"I--guessed!" she answered shyly. 

Then Collingwood, at this suddenly arrived supreme moment, becamecuriously bereft of speech. And after a period of silence, during which, being in the shadow of a grove of beech-trees which kindly concealedthem from the rest of the world, they held each other's hands, all thathe could find to say was one word. 

"Well?"

Nesta laughed. 

"Well--what?" she whispered. 

Collingwood suddenly laughed too and put his arm round her. 

"It's no good!" he said. "I've often thought of what I'd to say toyou--and now I've forgotten all. Shall I say it all at once!"

"Wouldn't it be best?" she murmured with another laugh. 

"Then--you're going to marry me?" he asked. 

"Am I to answer--all at once?" she said. 

"One word will do!" he exclaimed, drawing her to him. 

"Ah!" she whispered as she lifted her face to his. "I couldn't say itall in one word. But--we've lots of time before us!"

THE END