RED MONEY

 BY FERGUS HUME

Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab, " "The Solitary Farm, " "ThePeacock of Jewels, " "The Red Window, " "The Steel Crown, " etc. 

 1911

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS

 II. IN THE WOOD

 III. AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION

 IV. SECRETS

 V. THE WOMAN AND THE MAN

 VI. THE MAN AND THE WOMAN

 VII. THE SECRETARY

 VIII. AT MIDNIGHT

 IX. AFTERWARDS

 X. A DIFFICULT POSITION

 XI. BLACKMAIL

 XII. THE CONSPIRACY

 XIII. A FRIEND IN NEED

 XIV. MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE

 XV. GUESSWORK

 XVI. THE LAST STRAW

 XVII. ON THE TRAIL

 XVIII. AN AMAZING ACCUSATION

 XIX. MOTHER COCKLESHELL

 XX. THE DESTINED END

 XXI. A FINAL SURPRISE

RED MONEY

CHAPTER I. 

THE DRAMA OF LITTLE THINGS. 

"Gypsies! How very delightful! I really must have my fortune told. Thedear things know all about the future. "

As Mrs. Belgrove spoke she peered through her lorgnette to see if anyoneat the breakfast-table was smiling. The scrutiny was necessary, sinceshe was the oldest person present, and there did not appear to be anyfuture for her, save that very certain one connected with a funeral. Buta society lady of sixty, made up to look like one of forty (her maidcould do no more), with an excellent digestion and a constant desire, like the Athenians of old, for "Something New!" can scarcely be expectedto dwell upon such a disagreeable subject as death. Nevertheless, Mrs. Belgrove could not disguise from herself that her demise could not bepostponed for many more years, and examined the faces of the otherguests to see if they thought so too. If anyone did, he and she politelysuppressed a doubtful look and applauded the suggestion of afortune-telling expedition. 

"Let us make up a party and go, " said the hostess, only too thankful tofind something to amuse the house-party for a few hours. "Where did yousay the gypsies were, Garvington?"

"In the Abbot's Wood, " replied her husband, a fat, small round-facedman, who was methodically devouring a large breakfast. 

"That's only three miles away. We can drive or ride. "

"Or motor, or bicycle, or use Shanks' mare, " remarked Miss Greeby rathervulgarly. Not that any one minded such a speech from her, as hervulgarity was merely regarded as eccentricity, because she had money andbrains, an exceedingly long tongue, and a memory of other people'sfailings to match. 

Lord Garvington made no reply, as breakfast, in his opinion, was muchtoo serious a business to be interrupted. He reached for the marmalade, and requested that a bowl of Devonshire cream should be passed along. His wife, who was lean and anxious-looking even for an August hostess, looked at him wrathfully. He never gave her any assistance inentertaining their numerous guests, yet always insisted that the houseshould be full for the shooting season. And being poor for a titledpair, they could not afford to entertain even a shoeblack, much less acrowd of hungry sportsmen and a horde of frivolous women, who requiredto be amused expensively. It was really too bad of Garvington. 

At this point the reflections of the hostess were interrupted by MissGreeby, who always had a great deal to say, and who always tried, as anAmerican would observe, "to run the circus. " "I suppose you men will goout shooting as usual?" she said in her sharp, clear voice. 

The men present collectively declared that such was their intention, andthat they had come to "The Manor" for that especial purpose, so it wasuseless to ask them, or any one of them, to go on a fortune-tellingexpedition when they could find anything of that sort in Bond Street. "And it's all a lot of rot, anyhow, " declared one sporting youth withobviously more muscle and money than brains; "no one can tell myfortune. "

"I can, Billy. You will be Prime Minister, " flashed out Miss Greeby, atwhich there was a general laugh. Then Garvington threw a bombshell. 

"You'd better get your fortunes told to-day, if you want to, " hegrunted, wiping his mustache; "for to-morrow I'm going to have theserotters moved off my land straight away. They're thieves and liars. "

"So are many other people, " snapped Miss Greeby, who had lost heavily atbridge on the previous night and spoke feelingly. 

Her host paid no attention to her. "There's been a lot of burglaries inthis neighborhood of late. I daresay these gypsies are mixed up inthem. "

"Burglaries!" cried Mrs. Belgrove, and turned pale under her rouge, asshe remembered that she had her diamonds with her. 

"Oh, it's all right! Don't worry, " said Garvington, pushing back hischair. "They won't try on any games in this house while I'm here. If anyone tries to get in I'll shoot the beast. "

"Is that allowed by law?" asked an army officer with a shrug. 

"I don't know and I don't care, " retorted Garvington. "An Englishman'shouse is his castle, you know, and he can jolly well shoot any one whotries to get into it. Besides, I shouldn't mind potting a burglar. Greatsport. "

"You'd ask his intentions first, I presume, " said Lady Garvingtontartly. 

"Not me. Any one getting into the house after dark doesn't need hisintentions to be asked. I'd shoot. "

"What about Romeo?" asked a poetic-looking young man. "He got intoJuliet's house, but did not come as a burglar. "

"He came as a guest, I believe, " said a quiet, silvery voice at the endof the table, and every one turned to look at Lady Agnes Pine, who hadspoken. 

She was Garvington's sister, and the wife of Sir Hubert Pine, themillionaire, who was absent from the house party on this occasion. As arule, she spoke little, and constantly wore a sad expression on her paleand beautiful face. And Agnes Pine really was beautiful, being one ofthose tall, slim willowy-looking women who always look well and actcharmingly. And, indeed, her undeniable charm of manner probably hadmore to do with her reputation as a handsome woman than her actualphysical grace. With her dark hair and dark eyes, her Greek features andivory skin faintly tinted with a tea-rose hue, she looked very lovelyand very sad. Why she should be, was a puzzle to many women, as beingthe wife of a superlatively rich man, she had all the joys that moneycould bring her. Still it was hinted on good authority--but no one everheard the name of the authority--that Garvington being poor had forcedher into marrying Sir Hubert, for whom she did not care in the least. People said that her cousin Noel Lambert was the husband of her choice, but that she had sacrificed herself, or rather had been compelled to doso, in order that Garvington might be set on his legs. But Lady Agnesnever gave any one the satisfaction of knowing the exact truth. Shemoved through the social world like a gentle ghost, fulfilling herduties admirably, but apparently indifferent to every one andeverything. "Clippin' to look at, " said the young men, "but tombs totalk to. No sport at all. " But then the young men did not possess thekey to Lady Agnes Pine's heart. Nor did her husband apparently. 

Her voice was very low and musical, and every one felt its charm. Garvington answered her question as he left the room. "Romeo or noRomeo, guest or no guest, " he said harshly, "I'll shoot any beast whotries to enter my house. Come on, you fellows. We start in half an hourfor the coverts. "

When the men left the room, Miss Greeby came and sat down in a vacantseat near her hostess. "What did Garvington mean by that last speech?"she asked with a significant look at Lady Agnes. 

"Oh, my dear, when does Garvington ever mean anything?" said the otherwoman fretfully. "He is so selfish; he leaves me to do everything. "

"Well, " drawled Miss Greeby with a pensive look on her masculinefeatures, "he looked at Agnes when he spoke. "

"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Garvington sharply. 

Miss Greeby gave a significant laugh. "I notice that Mr. Lambert is notin the house, " she said carelessly. "But some one told me he was near athand in the neighborhood. Surely Garvington doesn't mean to shoot him. "

"Clara. " The hostess sat up very straight, and a spot of color burned oneither sallow cheek. "I am surprised at you. Noel is staying in theAbbot's Wood Cottage, and indulging in artistic work of some sort. Buthe can come and stay here, if he likes. You don't mean to insinuate thathe would climb into the house through a window after dark like aburglar?"

"That's just what I do mean, " retorted Miss Greeby daringly, "and if hedoes, Garvington will shoot him. He said so. "

"He said nothing of the sort, " cried Lady Garvington, angrily rising. 

"Well, he meant it. I saw him looking at Agnes. And we know that SirHubert is as jealous as Othello. Garvington is on guard I suppose, and--"

"Will you hold your tongue?" whispered the mistress of the Manorfuriously, and she would have shaken Miss Greeby, but that she hadborrowed money from her and did not dare to incur her enmity. "Agneswill hear you; she is looking this way; can't you see?"

"As if I cared, " laughed Miss Greeby, pushing out her full lower lip ina contemptuous manner. However, for reasons best known to herself, sheheld her peace, although she would have scorned the idea that the hintof her hostess made her do so. 

Lady Garvington saw that her guests were all chattering with oneanother, and that the men were getting ready to leave for the day'sshooting, so she went to discuss the dinner in the housekeeper's room. But all the time she and the housekeeper were arguing what LordGarvington would like in the way of food, the worried woman wasreflecting on what Miss Greeby had said. When the menu was finallysettled--no easy task when it concerned the master of the house--LadyGarvington sought out Mrs. Belgrove. That juvenile ancient was sunningherself on the terrace, in the hope of renewing her waning vitality, and, being alone, permitted herself to look old. She brisked up with akittenish purr when disturbed, and remarked that the Hengishire air waslike champagne. "My spirits are positively wild and wayward, " said thewould-be Hebe with a desperate attempt to be youthful. 

"Ah, you haven't got the house to look after, " sighed Lady Garvington, with a weary look, and dropped into a basket chair to pour out her woesto Mrs. Belgrove. That person was extremely discreet, as years ofsociety struggling had taught her the value of silence. Her discretionin this respect brought her many confidences, and she was renowned forgiving advice which was never taken. 

"What's the matter, my dear? You look a hundred, " said Mrs. Belgrove, putting up her lorgnette with a chuckle, as if she had made an originalobservation. But she had not, for Lady Garvington always appeared wornand weary, and sallow, and untidy. She was the kind of absent-mindedperson who depended upon pins to hold her garments together, and whowould put on her tiara crookedly for a drawing-room. 

"Clara Greeby's a cat, " said poor, worried Lady Garvington, hunting forher pocket handkerchief, which was rarely to be found. 

"Has she been making love to Garvington?"

"Pooh! No woman attracts Garvington unless she can cook, or knowssomething about a kitchen range. I might as well have married a souptureen. I'm sure I don't know why I ever did marry him, " lamented thelady, staring at the changing foliage of the park trees. "He's a pauperand a pig, my dear, although I wouldn't say so to every one. I wish mymother hadn't insisted that I should attend cooking classes. "

"What on earth has that to do with it?"

"To do with what?" asked Lady Garvington absentmindedly. "I don't knowwhat you're talking about, I'm sure. But mother knew that Garvington wasfond of a good dinner, and made me attend those classes, so as to learnto talk about French dishes. We used to flirt about soups and creams andhaunches of venison, until he thought that I was as greedy as he was. Sohe married me, and I've been attending to his meals ever since. Why, even for our honeymoon we went to Mont St. Michel. They make splendidomelettes there, and Garvington ate all the time. Ugh!" and the poorlady shuddered. 

Mrs. Belgrove saw that her companion was meandering, and would nevercome to the point unless forced to face it, so she rapped her knuckleswith the lorgnette. "What about Clara Greeby?" she demanded sharply. 

"She's a cat!"

"Oh, we're all cats, mewing or spitting as the fit takes us, " said Mrs. Belgrove comfortably. "I can't see why cat should be a term ofopprobrium when applied to a woman. Cats are charmingly pretty animals, and know what they want, also how to get it. Well, my dear?"

"I believe she was in love with Noel herself, " ruminated LadyGarvington. 

"Who was in love? Come to the point, my dear Jane. "

"Clara Greeby. "

Mrs. Belgrove laughed. "Oh, that ancient history. Every one who wasanybody knew that Clara would have given her eyes--and very ugly eyesthey are--to have married Noel Lambert. I suppose you mean him? Noelisn't a common name. Quite so. You mean him. Well, Clara wanted to buyhim. He hasn't any money, and as a banker's heiress she is as rich as aJew. But he wouldn't have her. "

"Why wouldn't he?" asked Lady Garvington, waking up--she had beenreflecting about a new soup which she hoped would please her husband. "Clara has quite six thousand a year, and doesn't look bad when her maidmakes her dress in a proper manner. And, talking about maids, mine wantsto leave, and--"

"She's too like Boadicea, " interrupted Mrs. Belgrove, keeping hercompanion to the subject of Miss Greeby. "A masculine sort of hussy. Noel is far too artistic to marry such a maypole. She's six foot two, ifshe's an inch, and her hands and feet--" Mrs. Belgrove shuddered with agratified glance at her own slim fingers. 

"You know the nonsense that Garvington was talking; about shooting aburglar, " said the other woman vaguely. "Such nonsense, for I'm sure noburglar would enter a house filled with nothing but Early Victorianfurniture. "

"Well? Well? Well?" said Mrs. Belgrove impatiently. 

"Clara Beeby thought that Garvington meant to shoot Noel. "

"Why, in heaven's name! Because Noel is his heir?"

"I'm sure I can't help it if I've no children, " said Lady Garvington, going off on another trail--the one suggested by Mrs. Belgrove's remark. "I'd be a happier woman if I had something else to attend to thandinners. I wish we all lived on roots, so that Garvington could dig themup for himself. "

"My dear, he'd send you out with a trowel to do that, " said Mrs. Belgrove humorously. "But why does Garvington want to shoot Noel?"

"Oh, he doesn't. I never said he did. Clara Greeby made the remark. Yousee, Noel loved Agnes before she married Hubert, and I believe he lovesher still, which isn't right, seeing she's married, and isn't half sogood-looking as she was. And Noel stopping at that cottage in theAbbot's Wood painting in water-colors. I think he is, but I'm not sureif it isn't in oils, and the--"

"Well? Well? Well?" asked Mrs. Belgrove again. 

"It isn't well at all, when you think what a tongue Clara Greeby has, "snapped Lady Garvington. "She said if Noel came to see Agnes by night, Garvington, taking him for a burglar, might shoot him. She insisted thathe looked at Agnes when he was talking about burglars, and meant that. "

"What nonsense!" cried Mrs. Belgrove vigorously, at last having arrivedat a knowledge of why Lady Garvington had sought her. "Noel can comehere openly, so there is no reason he should steal here after dark. "

"Well, he's romantic, you know, dear. And romantic people always preferwindows to doors and darkness to light. The windows here are soinsecure, " added Lady Garvington, glancing at the facade above heruntidy hair. "He could easily get in by sticking a penknife in betweenthe upper and lower sash of the window. It would be quite easy. "

"What nonsense you talk, Jane, " said Mrs. Belgrove, impatiently. "Noelis not the man to come after a married woman when her husband is away. Ihave known him since he was a Harrow schoolboy, so I have every right tospeak. Where is Sir Hubert?"

"He is at Paris or Pekin, or something with a 'P, '" said Lady Garvingtonin her usual vague way. "I'm sure I don't know why he can't take Agneswith him. They get on very well for a married couple. "

"All the same she doesn't love him. "

"He loves her, for I'm sure he's that jealous that he can't scarcelybear her out of his sight. "

"It seems to me that he can, " remarked Mrs. Belgrove dryly. "Since he isat Paris or Pekin and she is here. "

"Garvington is looking after her, and he owes Sir Hubert too much, notto see that Agnes is all right. "

Mrs. Belgrove peered at Lady Garvington through her lorgnette. "I thinkyou talk a great deal of nonsense, Jane, as I said before, " sheobserved. "I don't suppose for one moment that Agnes thinks of Noel, orNoel of Agnes. "

"Clara Greeby says--"

"Oh, I know what she says and what she wishes. She would like to getNoel into trouble with Sir Hubert over Agnes, simply because he will notmarry her. As to her chatter about burglars--"

"Garvington's chatter, " corrected her companion. 

"Well, then, Garvington's. It's all rubbish. Agnes is a sweet girl, and--"

"Girl?" Lady Garvington laughed disdainfully. "She is twenty-five. "

"A mere baby. People cannot be called old until they are seventy oreighty. It is a bad habit growing old. I have never encouraged itmyself. By the way, tell me something about Sir Hubert Pine. I have onlymet him once or twice. What kind of a man is he?"

"Tall, and thin, and dark, and--"

"I know his appearance. But his nature?"

"He's jealous, and can be very disagreeable when he likes. I don't knowwho he is, or where he came from. He made his money out of penny toysand South African investments. He was a member of Parliament for a fewyears, and helped his party so much with money that he was knighted. That's all I know of him, except that he is very mean. "

"Mean? What you tell me doesn't sound mean. "

"I'm talking of his behavior to Garvington, " explained the hostess, touching her ruffled hair, "he doesn't give us enough money. "

"Why should he give you any?" asked Mrs. Belgrove bluntly. 

"Well, you see, dear, Garvington would never have allowed his sister tomarry a nobody, unless--"

"Unless the nobody paid for his footing. I quite understand. Every oneknows that Agnes married the man to save her family from bankruptcy. Poor girl!" Mrs. Belgrove sighed. "And she loved Noel. What a shame thatshe couldn't become his wife!"

"Oh, that would have been absurd, " said Lady Garvington pettishly. "What's the use of Hunger marrying Thirst? Noel has no money, just likeourselves, and if it hadn't been for Hubert this place would have beensold long ago. I'm telling you secrets, mind. "

"My dear, you tell me nothing that everybody doesn't know. "

"Then what is your advice?"

"About what, my dear?"

"About what I have been telling you. The burglar, and--"

"I have told you before, that it is rubbish. If a burglar does come hereI hope Lord Garvington will shoot him, as I don't want to lose mydiamonds. "

"But if the burglar is Noel?"

"He won't be Noel. Clara Greeby has simply made a nasty suggestion whichis worthy of her. But if you're afraid, why not get her to marry Noel?"

"He won't have her, " said Lady Garvington dolefully. 

"I know he won't. Still a persevering woman can do wonders, and ClaraGreeby has no self-respect. And if you think Noel is too near, get Agnesto join her husband in Pekin. "

"I think it's Paris. "

"Well then, Paris. She can buy new frocks. "

"Agnes doesn't care for new frocks. Such simple tastes she has, wantingto help the poor. Rubbish, I call it. "

"Why, when her husband helps Lord Garvington?" asked Mrs. Belgroveartlessly. 

Lady Garvington frowned. "What horrid things you say. "

"I only repeat what every one is saying. "

"Well, I'm sure I don't care, " cried Lady Garvington recklessly, androse to depart on some vague errand. "I'm only in the world to lookafter dinners and breakfasts. Clara Greeby's a cat making all this fussabout--"

"Hush! There she is. "

Lady Garvington fluttered round, and drifted towards Miss Greeby, whohad just stepped out on to the terrace. The banker's daughter was in atailor-made gown with a man's cap and a man's gloves, and a man'sboots--at least, as Mrs. Belgrove thought, they looked like that--andcarried a very masculine stick, more like a bludgeon than a cane. Withher ruddy complexion and ruddy hair, and piercing blue eyes, andmagnificent figure--for she really had a splendid figure in spite ofMrs. Belgrove's depreciation--she looked like a gigantic Norse goddess. With a flashing display of white teeth, she came along swinging herstick, or whirling her shillalah, as Mrs. Belgrove put it, and seemedthe embodiment of coarse, vigorous health. 

"Taking a sun-bath?" she inquired brusquely and in a loud baritonevoice. "Very wise of you two elderly things. I am going for a walk. "

Mrs. Belgrove was disagreeable in her turn. "Going to the Abbot's Wood?"

"How clever of you to guess, " Miss Greeby smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'mgoing to look up Lambert"; she always spoke of her male friends in thishearty fashion. "He ought to be here enjoying himself instead of livinglike a hermit in the wilds. "

"He's painting pictures, " put in Lady Garvington. "Do hermits paint?"

"No. Only society women do that, " said Miss Greeby cheerfully, and Mrs. Belgrove's faded eyes flashed. She knew that the remark was meant forher, and snapped back. "Are you going to have your fortune told by thegypsies, dear?" she inquired amiably. "They might tell you about yourmarriage. "

"Oh, I daresay, and if you ask they will prophesy your funeral. "

"I am in perfect health, Miss Greeby. "

"So I should think, since your cheeks are so red. "

Lady Garvington hastily intervened to prevent the further exchange ofcompliments. "Will you be back to luncheon, or join the men at thecoverts?"

"Neither. I'll drop on Lambert for a feed. Where are you going?"

"I'm sure I don't know, " said the hostess vaguely. "There's lots to do. I shall know what's to be done, when I think of it, " and she driftedalong the terrace and into the house like a cloud blown any way by thewind. Miss Greeby looked after her limp figure with a contemptuous grin, then she nodded casually to Mrs. Belgrove, and walked whistling down theterrace steps. 

"Cat, indeed!" commented Mrs. Belgrove to herself when she saw MissGreeby's broad back disappear behind the laurels. "Nothing half sopretty. She's like a great Flanders mare. And I wish Henry VIII wasalive to marry her, " she added the epithet suggesting that king, "ifonly to cut her head off. "

CHAPTER II. 

IN THE WOOD. 

Miss Greeby swung along towards her destination with a masculine strideand in as great a hurry as though she had entered herself for a Marathonrace. It was a warm, misty day, and the pale August sunshine radiatedfaintly through the smoky atmosphere. Nothing was clear-cut and nothingwas distinct, so hazy was the outlook. The hedges were losing theirgreenery and had blossomed forth into myriad bunches of ruddy hips andhaws, and the usually hard road was soft underfoot because of thepenetrating quality of the moist air. There was no wind to clear awaythe misty greyness, but yellow leaves without its aid dropped from thedisconsolate trees. The lately-reaped fields, stretching on either sideof the lane down which the lady was walking, presented a stubbledexpanse of brown and dim gold, uneven and distressful to the eye. Thedying world was in ruins and Nature had reduced herself to thatnecessary chaos, out of which, when the coming snow completed its task, she would build a new heaven and a new earth. 

An artist might have had some such poetic fancy, and would certainlyhave looked lovingly on the alluring colors and forms of decay. But MissGreeby was no artist, and prided herself upon being an aggressivelymatter-of-fact young woman. With her big boots slapping the ground andher big hands thrust into the pockets of her mannish jacket, she benther head in a meditative fashion and trudged briskly onward. Whatromance her hard nature was capable of, was uppermost now, but ithad to do strictly with her personal feelings and did not require thepicturesque autumn landscape to improve or help it in any way. One man'sname suggested romance to bluff, breezy Clara Greeby, and that name wasNoel Lambert. She murmured it over and over again to her heart, and herhard face flushed into something almost like beauty, as she rememberedthat she would soon behold its owner. "But he won't care, " she saidaloud, and threw back her head defiantly: then after a pause, shebreathed softly, "But I shall make him care. "

If she hoped to do so, the task was one which required a great amount ofskill and a greater amount of womanly courage, neither of whichqualities Miss Greeby possessed. She had no skill in managing a man, asher instincts were insufficiently feminine, and her courage was of apurely rough-and-tumble kind. She could have endured hunger and thirstand cold: she could have headed a forlorn hope: she could have held to asinking ship: but she had no store of that peculiar feminine couragewhich men don't understand and which women can't explain, however muchthey may exhibit it. Miss Greeby was an excellent comrade, but could notbe the beloved of any man, because of the very limitations ofsemi-masculinity upon which she prided herself. Noel Lambert wanted awomanly woman, and Lady Agnes was his ideal of what a wife should be. Miss Greeby had in every possible way offered herself for the post, butLambert had never cared for her sufficiently to endure the thought ofpassing through life with her beside him. He said she was "a good sort";and when a man says that of a woman, she may be to him a good friend, oreven a platonic chum, but she can never be a desirable wife in his eyes. What Miss Greeby lacked was sex, and lacking that, lacked everything. Itwas strange that with her rough common sense she could not grasp thiswant. But the thought that Lambert required what she could nevergive--namely, the feminine tenderness which strong masculine natureslove--never crossed her very clear and mathematical mind. 

So she was bent upon a fool's errand, as she strode towards the Abbot'sWood, although she did not know it. Her aim was to capture Lambert asher husband; and her plan, to accomplish her wish by working on theheart-hunger he most probably felt, owing to the loss of Agnes Pine. Ifhe loved that lady in a chivalrous fashion--and Miss Greeby believedthat he did--she was absolutely lost to him as the wife of another man. Lambert would never degrade her into a divorce court appearance. Andperhaps, after all, as Miss Greeby thought hopefully, his love for SirHubert's wife might have turned to scorn that she had preferred money totrue love. But then, again, as Miss Greeby remembered, with a darkeningface, Agnes had married the millionaire so as to save the family estatesfrom being sold. Rank has its obligation, and Lambert might approve ofthe sacrifice, since he was the next heir to the Garvington title. "Weshall see what his attitude is, " decided Miss Greeby, as she entered theAbbot's Wood, and delayed arranging her future plans until she fullyunderstood his feelings towards the woman he had lost. In the meantime, Lambert would want a comrade, and Miss Greeby was prepared to sink herromantic feelings, for the time being, in order to be one. 

The forest--which belonged to Garvington, so long as he paid theinterest on the mortgage--was not a very large one. In the old days ithad been of greater size and well stocked with wild animals; so wellstocked, indeed, that the abbots of a near monastery had used it formany hundred years as a hunting ground. But the monastery had vanishedoff the face of the earth, as not even its ruins were left, and the gamehad disappeared as the forest grew smaller and the district aroundbecame more populous. A Lambert of the Georgian period--the family nameof Lord Garvington was Lambert--had acquired what was left of themonastic wood by winning it at a game of cards from the nobleman who hadthen owned it. Now it was simply a large patch of green in the middle ofa somewhat naked county, for Hengishire is not remarkable for woodlands. There were rabbits and birds, badgers, stoats, and such-like wild thingsin it still, but the deer which the abbots had hunted were conspicuousby their absence. Garvington looked after it about as much as he didafter the rest of his estates, which was not saying much. The fat, roundlittle lord's heart was always in the kitchen, and he preferred eatingto fulfilling his duties as a landlord. Consequently, the Abbot's Woodwas more or less public property, save when Garvington turned crusty andevery now and then cleared out all interlopers. But tramps came to sleepin the wood, and gypsies camped in its glades, while summer time broughtmany artists to rave about its sylvan beauties, and paint pictures ofancient trees and silent pools, and rugged lawns besprinkled withrainbow wild flowers. People who went to the Academy and to the variousart exhibitions in Bond Street knew the Abbot's Wood fairly well, as itwas rarely that at least one picture dealing with it did not appear. 

Miss Greeby had explored the wood before and knew exactly where to findthe cottage mentioned by Lady Garvington. On the verge of the trees shesaw the blue smoke of the gypsies' camp fires, and heard the vaguemurmur of Romany voices, but, avoiding the vagrants, she took her waythrough the forest by a winding path. This ultimately led her to aspacious glade, in the centre of which stood a dozen or more roughmonoliths of mossy gray and weather-worn stones, disposed in a circle. Probably these were all that remained of some Druidical temple, andarchaeologists came from far and near to view the weird relics. And inthe middle of the circle stood the cottage: a thatched dwelling, whichmight have had to do with a fairy tale, with its whitewashed wallscovered with ivy, and its latticed windows, on the ledges of which stoodpots of homely flowers. There was no fence round this rustic dwelling, as the monoliths stood as guardians, and the space between the cottagewalls and the gigantic stones was planted thickly with fragrant Englishflowers. Snapdragon, sweet-william, marigolds, and scented clovecarnations, were all to be found there: also there was thyme, mint, sage, and other pot-herbs. And the whole perfumed space was girdled bytrees old and young, which stood back from the emerald beauty ofuntrimmed lawns. A more ideal spot for a dreamer, or an artist, or ahermit, or for the straying prince of a fairy tale, it would have beenquite impossible to find. Miss Greeby's vigorous and coarse personalityseemed to break in a noisy manner--although she did not utter a singleword--the enchanted silence of the solitary place. 

However, the intruder was too matter-of-fact to trouble about thesequestered liveliness of this unique dwelling. She strode across thelawns, and passing beyond the monoliths, marched like an invader up thenarrow path between the radiant flower-beds. From the tiny green doorshe raised the burnished knocker and brought it down with an emphaticbang. Shortly the door opened with a pettish tug, as though the personbehind was rather annoyed by the noise, and a very tall, well-built, slim young man made his appearance on the threshold. He held a paletteon the thumb of one hand, and clutched a sheaf of brushes, while anotherbrush was in his mouth, and luckily impeded a rather rough welcome. Thelook in a pair of keen blue eyes certainly seemed to resent theintrusion, but at the sight of Miss Greeby this irritability changed toa glance of suspicion. Lambert, from old associations, liked his visitorvery well on the whole, but that feminine intuition, which all creativenatures possess, warned him that it was wise to keep her at arm'slength. She had never plainly told her love; but she had assuredlyhinted at it more or less by eye and manner and undue hauntings of hisfootsteps when in London. He could not truthfully tell himself that hewas glad of her unexpected visit. For quite half a minute they stoodstaring at one another, and Miss Greeby's hard cheeks flamed to a poppyred at the sight of the man she loved. 

"Well, Hermit. " she observed, when he made no remark. "As the mountainwould not come to Mahomet, the prophet has come to the mountain. "

"The mountain is welcome, " said Lambert diplomatically, and stoodaside, so that she might enter. Then adopting the bluff and breezy, rough-and-ready-man-to-man attitude, which Miss Greeby liked to see inher friends, he added: "Come in, old girl! It's a pal come to see a pal, isn't it?"

"Rather, " assented Miss Greeby, although, woman-like, she was notentirely pleased with this unromantic welcome. "We played as bratstogether, didn't we?

"Yes, " she added meditatively, when following Lambert into his studio, "I think we are as chummy as a man and woman well can be. "

"True enough. You were always a good sort, Clara. How well you arelooking--more of a man than ever. "

"Oh, stop that!" said Miss Greeby roughly. 

"Why?" Lambert raised his eyebrows. "As a girl you always liked to bethought manly, and said again and again that you wished you were a boy. "

"I find that I am a woman, after all, " sighed the visitor, dropping intoa chair and looking round; "with a woman's feelings, too. "

"And very nice those feelings are, since they have influenced you to payme a visit in the wilds, " remarked the artist imperturbably. 

"What are you doing in the wilds?"

"Painting, " was the laconic retort. 

"So I see. Still-life pictures?"

"Not exactly. " He pointed toward the easel. "Behold and approve. "

Miss Greeby did behold, but she certainly did not approve, because shewas a woman and in love. It was only a pictured head she saw, but thehead was that of a very beautiful girl, whose face smiled from thecanvas in a subtle, defiant way, as if aware of its wild loveliness. Theraven hair streamed straightly down to the shoulders--for the bust ofthe model was slightly indicated--and there, bunched out into curls. Ared and yellow handkerchief was knotted round the brows, and danglingsequins added to its barbaric appearance. Nose and lips and eyes, andcontours, were all perfect, and it really seemed as though the face wereidealized, so absolutely did it respond to all canons of beauty. It wasa gypsy countenance, and there lurked in its loveliness that wild, untamed look which suggested unrestricted roamings and the spaciousfreedom of the road. 

The sudden, jealous fear which surged into Miss Greeby's heart climbedto her throat and choked her speech. But she had wisdom enough to checkunwise words, and glanced round the studio to recover her composure. Theroom was small and barely furnished; a couch, two deep arm-chairs, and asmall table filled its limited area. The walls and roof were painted apale green, and a carpet of the same delicate hue covered the floor. Ofcourse, there were the usual painting materials, brushes and easel andpalettes and tubes of color, together with a slightly raised platformnear the one window where the model could sit or stand. The windowitself had no curtains and was filled with plain glass, affording plentyof light. 

"The other windows of the cottage are latticed, " said Lambert, seeinghis visitor's eyes wander in that direction. "I had that glass put inwhen I came here a month ago. No light can filter through lattices--insufficient quantity that is--to see the true tones of the colors. "

"Oh, bother the window!" muttered Miss Greeby restlessly, for she hadnot yet gained command of her emotions. 

Lambert laughed and looked at his picture with his head on one side, anda very handsome head it was, as Miss Greeby thought. "It bothered meuntil I had it put right, I assure you. But you don't seem pleased withmy crib. "

"It's not good enough for you. "

"Since when have I been a sybarite, Clara?"

"I mean you ought to think of your position. "

"It's too unpleasant to think about, " rejoined Lambert, throwing himselfon the couch and producing his pipe. "May I smoke?"

"Yes, and if you have any decent cigarettes I'll join you. Thanks!" Shedeftly caught the silver case he threw her. "But your position?"

"Five hundred a year and no occupation, since I have been brought up toneither trade nor profession, " said Lambert leisurely. "Well?"

"You are the heir to a title and to a large property. "

"Which is heavily mortgaged. As to the title"--Lambert shrugged hisshoulders--"Garvington's wife may have children. "

"I don't think so. They have been married ten years and more. You arecertain to come in for everything. "

"Everything consists of nothing, " said the artist coolly. 

"Well, " drawled Miss Greeby, puffing luxuriously at her cigarette, whichwas Turkish and soothing, "nothing may turn into something when thesemortgages are cleared off. "

"Who is going to clear them off?"

"Sir Hubert Pine. "

Lambert's brows contracted, as she knew they would when this name wasmentioned, and he carefully attended to filling his pipe so as to avoidmeeting her hard, inquisitive eyes. "Pine is a man of business, and ifhe pays off the mortgages he will take over the property as security. Idon't see that Garvington will be any the better off in that case. "

"Lambert, " said Miss Greeby very decidedly, and determined to knowprecisely what he felt like, "Garvington only allowed his sister tomarry Sir Hubert because he was rich. I don't know for certain, ofcourse, but I should think it probable that he made an arrangement withPine to have things put straight because of the marriage. "

"Possible and probable, " said the artist shortly, and wincing; "but oldfriend as you are, Clara, I don't see the necessity of talking aboutbusiness which does not concern me. Speak to Garvington. "

"Agnes concerns you. "

"How objectionably direct you are, " exclaimed Lambert in a vexed tone. "And how utterly wrong. Agnes does not concern me in the least. I lovedher, but as she chose to marry Pine, why there's no more to be said. "

"If there was nothing more to be said, " observed Miss Greeby shrewdly, "you would not be burying yourself here. "

"Why not? I am fond of nature and art, and my income is not enough topermit my living decently in London. I had to leave the army because Iwas so poor. Garvington has given me this cottage rent free, so I'mjolly enough with my painting and with Mrs. Tribb as housekeeper andcook. She's a perfect dream of a cook, " ended Lambert thoughtfully. 

Miss Greeby shook her red head. "You can't deceive me. "

"Who wants to, anyhow?" demanded the man, unconsciously American. 

"You do. You wish to make out that you prefer to camp here instead ofadmitting that you would like to be at The Manor because Agnes--"

Lambert jumped up crossly. "Oh, leave Agnes out of the question. She isPine's wife, so that settles things. It's no use crying for the moon, and--"

"Then you still wish for the moon, " interpolated the woman quickly. 

"Not even you have the right to ask me such a question, " replied Lambertin a quiet and decisive tone. "Let us change the subject. "

Miss Greeby pointed to the beautiful face smiling on the easel. "Iadvise you to, " she said significantly. 

"You seem to have come here to give me good advice. "

"Which you won't take, " she retorted. 

"Because it isn't needed. "

"A man's a man and a woman's a woman. "

"That's as true as taxes, as Mr. Barkis observed, if you are acquaintedwith the writings of the late Charles Dickens. Well?"

Again Miss Greeby pointed to the picture. "She's very pretty. "

"I shouldn't have painted her otherwise. "

"Oh, then the original of that portrait does exist?"

"Could you call it a portrait if an original didn't exist?" demandedthe young man tartly. "Since you want to know so much, you may as wellcome to the gypsy encampment on the verge of the wood and satisfyyourself. " He threw on a Panama hat, with a cross look. "Since when haveyou come to the conclusion that I need a dry nurse?"

"Oh, don't talk bosh!" said Miss Greeby vigorously, and springing to herfeet. "You take me at the foot of the letter and too seriously. I onlycame here to see how my old pal was getting on. "

"I'm all right and as jolly as a sandboy. Now are you satisfied?"

"Quite. Only don't fall in love with the original of your portrait. "

"It's rather late in the day to warn me, " said Lambert dryly, "for Ihave known the girl for six months. I met her in a gypsy caravan when ona walking tour, and offered to paint her. She is down here with herpeople, and you can see her whenever you have a mind to. "

"There's no time like the present, " said Miss Greeby, accepting theoffer with alacrity. "Come along, old boy. " Then, when they stepped outof the cottage garden on to the lawns, she asked pointedly, "What is hername?"

"Chaldea. "

"Nonsense. That is the name of the country. "

"I never denied that, my dear girl. But Chaldea was born in the countrywhence she takes her name. Down Mesopotamia way, I believe. Thesegypsies wander far and wide, you know. She's very pretty, and has thetemper of the foul fiend himself. Only Kara can keep her in order. "

"Who is Kara?"

"A Servian gypsy who plays the fiddle like an angel. He's acrooked-backed, black-faced, hairy ape of a dwarf, but highly popular onaccount of his music. Also, he's crazy about Chaldea, and loves her todistraction. "

"Does she love him?" Miss Greeby asked in her direct fashion. 

"No, " replied Lambert, coloring under his tan, and closed his lipsfirmly. He was a very presentable figure of a man, as he walked besidethe unusually tall woman. His face was undeniably handsome in a fairSaxon fashion, and his eyes were as blue as those of Miss Greebyherself, while his complexion was much more delicate. In fact, sheconsidered that it was much too good a complexion for one of the malesex, but admitted inwardly that its possessor was anything buteffeminate, when he had such a heavy jaw, such a firm chin, and such setlips. Lambert, indeed, at first sight did indeed look so amiable, as toappear for the moment quite weak; but danger always stiffened him into adangerous adversary, and his face when aroused was most unpleasantlyfierce. He walked with a military swing, his shoulders well set back andhis head crested like that of a striking serpent. A rough and warlikelife would have brought out his best points of endurance, capability toplan and strike quickly, and iron decision; but the want of opportunityand the enervating influences of civilized existence, made him a man ofpossibilities. When time, and place, and chance offered he could act thehero with the best; but lacking these things he remained innocuous likegunpowder which has no spark to fire it. 

Thinking of these things, Miss Greeby abandoned the subject of Chaldea, and of her possible love for Lambert, and exclaimed impulsively, "Whydon't you chuck civilization and strike the out-trail?"

"Why should I?" he asked, unmoved, and rather surprised by the change ofthe subject. "I'm quite comfortable here. "

"Too comfortable, " she retorted with emphasis. "This loafing life ofjust-enough-to-live-on doesn't give you a chance to play the man. Go outand fight and colonize and prove your qualities. "

Lambert's color rose again, and his eyes sparkled. "I would if thechance--"

"Ah, bah, Hercules and Omphale!" interrupted his companion. 

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, " retorted Miss Greeby, who guessed that he knew what shemeant very well. His quick flush showed her how he resented thisclassical allusion to Agnes Pine. "You'd carry her off if you were aman. "

"Chaldea?" asked Lambert, wilfully misunderstanding her meaning. 

"If you like. Only don't try to carry her off at night. Garvington sayshe will shoot any burglar who comes along after dark. "

"I never knew Garvington had anything to do with Chaldea. "

"Neither did I. Oh, I think you know very well what I mean. "

"Perhaps I do, " said the young man with an angry shrug, for really herinterference with his affairs seemed to be quite unjustifiable. "But Iam not going to bring a woman I respect into the Divorce Court. "

"Respect? Love, you mean to say. "

Lambert stopped, and faced her squarely. "I don't wish to quarrel withyou, Clara, as we are very old friends. But I warn you that I do possessa temper, and if you wish to see it, you are going the best way to getwhat you evidently want. Now, hold your tongue and talk of somethingelse. Here is Chaldea. "

"Watching for you, " muttered Miss Greeby, as the slight figure of thegypsy girl was seen advancing swiftly. "Ha!" and she snortedsuspiciously. 

"Rye!" cried Chaldea, dancing toward the artist. "Sarishan rye. "

Miss Greeby didn't understand Romany, but the look in the girl's eyeswas enough to reveal the truth. If Lambert did not love his beautifulmodel, it was perfectly plain that the beautiful model loved Lambert. 

"O baro duvel atch' pa leste!" said Chaldea, and clapped her slim hands. 

CHAPTER III. 

AN UNEXPECTED RECOGNITION. 

"I wish you wouldn't speak the calo jib to me, Chaldea, " said Lambert, smiling on the beautiful eager face. "You know I don't understand it. "

"Nor I, " put in Miss Greeby in her manly tones. "What does Oh baro devil, and all the rest of it mean?"

"The Great God be with you, " translated Chaldea swiftly, "and duvel isnot devil as you Gorgios call it. "

"Only the difference of a letter, " replied the Gentile ladygood-humoredly. "Show us round your camp, my good girl. "

The mere fact that the speaker was in Lambert's company, let alone theoffensively patronizing tone in which she spoke, was enough to rouse thegypsy girl's naturally hot temper. She retreated and swayed like a catmaking ready to spring, while her black eyes snapped fire in a mostunpleasant manner. 

But Miss Greeby was not to be frightened by withering glances, andmerely laughed aloud, showing her white teeth. Her rough merriment andmasculine looks showed Chaldea that, as a rival, she was not to befeared, so the angry expression on the dark face changed to a wheedlingsmile. 

"Avali! Avali! The Gorgios lady wants her fortune told. "

For the sake of diplomacy Miss Greeby nodded and fished in her pocket. "I'll give you half a crown to tell it. "

"Not me--not me, dear lady. Mother Cockleshell is our great witch. "

"Take me to her then, " replied the other, and rapidly gathered into herbrain all she could of Chaldea's appearance. 

Lambert had painted a very true picture of the girl, although to acertain extent he had idealized her reckless beauty. Chaldea's looks hadbeen damaged and roughened by wind and rain, by long tramps, and byglaring sunshine. Yet she was superlatively handsome with her warm andswarthy skin, under which the scarlet blood circled freely. To an ovalface, a slightly hooked nose and two vermilion lips, rather full, sheadded the glossy black eyes of the true Romany, peaked at the corners. Her jetty hair descended smoothly from under a red handkerchief down toher shoulders, and there, at the tips, became tangled and curling. Herfigure was magnificent, and she swayed and swung from the hips with aneasy grace, which reminded the onlookers of a panther's lithe movements. And there was a good deal of the dangerous beast-of-prey beauty aboutChaldea, which was enhanced by her picturesque dress. This was raggedand patched with all kinds of colored cloths subdued to mellow tints bywear and weather. Also she jingled with coins and beads and barbarictrinkets of all kinds. Her hands were perfectly formed, and so doubtlesswere her feet, although these last were hidden by heavy laced-up boots. On the whole, she was an extremely picturesque figure, quite comfortingto the artistic eye amidst the drab sameness of latterday civilization. 

"All the same, I suspect she is a sleeping volcano, " whispered MissGreeby in her companion's ear as they followed the girl through the camp. 

"Scarcely sleeping, " answered Lambert in the same tone. "She explodes onthe slightest provocation, and not without damaging results. "

"Well, you ought to know. But if you play with volcanic fire you'll burnmore than your clever fingers. "

"Pooh! The girl is only a model. "

"Ha! Not much of the lay figure about her, anyway. "

Lambert, according to his custom, shrugged his shoulders and did notseek to explain further. If Miss Greeby chose to turn her fancies intofacts, she was at liberty to do so. Besides, her attention was luckilyattracted by the vivid life of the vagrants which hummed and bustledeverywhere. The tribe was a comparatively large one, and--as Miss Greebylearned later--consisted of Lees, Loves, Bucklands, Hernes, and others, all mixed up together in one gypsy stew. The assemblage embraced manyclans, and not only were there pure gypsies, but even many diddikai, orhalf-bloods, to be seen. Perhaps the gradually diminishing Romany clansfound it better to band together for mutual benefit than to remainisolated units. But the camp certainly contained many elements, andthese, acting co-operatively, formed a large and somewhat recklesscommunity, which justified Garvington's alarm. A raid in the night byone or two, or three, or more of these lean, wiry, dangerous-lookingoutcasts was not to be despised. But it must be admitted that, in ageneral way, law and order prevailed in the encampment. 

There were many caravans, painted in gay colors and hung round withvarious goods, such as brushes and brooms, goat-skin rugs, and muchtinware, together with baskets of all sorts and sizes. The horses, whichdrew these rainbow-hued vehicles, were pasturing on the outskirts of thecamp, hobbled for the most part. Interspersed among the travelling homesstood tents great and small, wherein the genuine Romany had their abode, but the autumn weather was so fine that most of the inmates preferred tosleep in the moonshine. Of course, there were plenty of dogs quarrellingover bones near various fires, or sleeping with one eye open in oddcorners, and everywhere tumbled and laughed and danced, brown-faced, lithe-limbed children, who looked uncannily Eastern. And the men, showing their white teeth in smiles, together with the fawning women, young and handsome, or old and hideously ugly, seemed altogether aliento the quiet, tame domestic English landscape. There was somethingprehistoric about the scene, and everywhere lurked that sense ofdangerous primeval passions held in enforced check which might burstforth on the very slightest provocation. 

"It's a migrating tribe of Aryans driven to new hunting grounds byhunger or over-population, " said Miss Greeby, for even her unromanticnature was stirred by the unusual picturesqueness of the scene. "Thesight of these people and the reek of their fires make me feel like acave-woman. There is something magnificent about this brutal freedom. "

"Very sordid magnificence, " replied Lambert, raising his shoulders. "ButI understand your feelings. On occasions we all have the nostalgia ofthe primitive life at times, and delight to pass from ease to hardship. "

"Well, civilization isn't much catch, so far as I can see, " argued hiscompanion. "It makes men weaklings. "

"Certainly not women, " he answered, glancing sideways at her Amazonianfigure. 

"I agree with you. For some reason, men are going down while women aregoing up, both physically and mentally. I wonder what the future ofcivilized races will be. "

"Here is Mother Cockleshell. Best ask her. "

The trio had reached a small tent at the very end of the camp by thistime, snugly set up under a spreading oak and near the banks of ababbling brook. Their progress had not been interrupted by any claims ontheir attention or purses, for a wink from Chaldea had informed herbrother and sister gypsies that the Gentile lady had come to consult thequeen of the tribe. And, like Lord Burleigh's celebrated nod, Chaldea'swink could convey volumes. At all events, Lambert and his companion wereunmolested, and arrived in due course before the royal palace. Acroaking voice announced that the queen was inside her Arab tent, andshe was crooning some Romany song. Chaldea did not open her mouth, butsimply snapped her fingers twice or thrice rapidly. The woman withinmust have had marvellously sharp ears, for she immediately stopped herincantation--the songs sounded like one--and stepped forth. 

"Oh!" said Miss Greeby, stepping back, "I am disappointed. "

She had every reason to be after the picturesqueness of the camp ingeneral, and Chaldea in particular, for Mother Cockleshell looked like athreadbare pew-opener, or an almshouse widow who had seen better days. Apparently she was very old, for her figure had shrivelled up into adiminutive monkey form, and she looked as though a moderately high windcould blow her about like a feather. Her face was brown and puckered andlined in a most wonderful fashion. Where a wrinkle could be, there awrinkle was, and her nose and chin were of the true nutcracker order, asa witch's should be. Only her eyes betrayed the powerful vitality thatstill animated the tiny frame, for these were large and dark, and had inthem a piercing look which seemed to gaze not at any one, but throughand beyond. Her figure, dried like that of a mummy, was surprisinglystraight for one of her ancient years, and her profuse hair was scarcelytouched with the gray of age. Arrayed in a decent black dress, with adecent black bonnet and a black woollen shawl, the old lady lookedintensely respectable. There was nothing of the picturesque vagrantabout her. Therefore Miss Greeby, and with every reason, wasdisappointed, and when the queen of the woodland spoke she was stillmore so, for Mother Cockleshell did not even interlard her Englishspeech with Romany words, as did Chaldea. 

"Good day to you, my lady, and to you, sir, " said Mother Cockleshell ina stronger and harsher voice than would have been expected from one ofher age and diminished stature. "I hope I sees you well, " and shedropped a curtsey, just like any village dame who knew her manners. 

"Oh!" cried Miss Greeby again. "You don't look a bit like a gypsy queen. "

"Ah, my lady, looks ain't everything. But I'm a true-bred Romany--aStanley of Devonshire. Gentilla is my name and the tent my home, and Ican tell fortunes as no one else on the road can. "

"Avali, and that is true, " put in Chaldea eagerly. "Gentilla's a borichovihani. "

"The child means that I am a great witch, my lady, " said the old damewith another curtsey. "Though she's foolish to use Romany words toGentiles as don't understand the tongue which the dear Lord spoke inEden's garden, as the good Book tells us. "

"In what part of the Bible do you find that?" asked Lambert laughing. 

"Oh, my sweet gentleman, it ain't for the likes of me to say things tothe likes of you, " said Mother Cockleshell, getting out of herdifficulty very cleverly, "but the dear lady wants her fortune told, don't she?"

"Why don't you say dukkerin?"

"I don't like them wicked words, sir, " answered Mother Cockleshellpiously. 

"Wicked words, " muttered Chaldea tossing her black locks. "And them trueRomany as was your milk tongue. No wonder the Gentiles don't fancy you atrue one of the road. If I were queen of--"

A vicious little devil flashed out of the old woman's eyes, and herrespectable looks changed on the instant. "Tol yer chib, or I'll heatthe bones of you with the fires of Bongo Tem, " she screamed furiously, and in a mixture of her mother-tongue and English. "Ja pukenus, slut ofthe gutter, " she shook her fist, and Chaldea, with an insulting laugh, moved away. "Bengis your see! Bengis your see! And that, my generouslady, " she added, turning round with a sudden resumption of her fawningrespectability, "means 'the devil in your heart, ' which I spokewitchly-like to the child. Ah, but she's a bad one. "

Miss Greeby laughed outright. "This is more like the real thing. "

"Poor Chaldea, " said Lambert. "You're too hard on her, mother. "

"And you, my sweet gentleman, ain't hard enough. She'll sell you, andget Kara to put the knife between your ribs. "

"Why should he? I'm not in love with the girl. "

"The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree, " saidMother Cockleshell darkly. "You're a good and kind gentleman, and Idon't want to see that slut pick your bones. "

"So I think, " whispered Miss Greeby in his ear. "You play with fire. "

"Aye, my good lady, " said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper--shehad the hearing of a cat. "With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which youmay call The Crooked Land, " and she pointed significantly downward. 

"Hell, do you mean?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way. 

"The Crooked Land we Romany calls it, " insisted the old woman. "And thechild will go there, for her witchly doings. "

"She's too good-looking to lose as a model, at all events, " saidLambert, hitching his shoulders. "I shall leave you to have your fortunetold, Clara, and follow Chaldea to pacify her. "

As he went toward the centre of the camp, Miss Greeby took a hesitatingstep as though to follow him. In her opinion Chaldea was much toogood-looking, let alone clever, for Lambert to deal with alone. GentillaStanley saw the look on the hard face and the softening of the hard eyesas the cheeks grew rosy red. From this emotion she drew her conclusions, and she chuckled to think of how true a fortune she could tell thevisitor on these premises. Mother Cockleshell's fortune-telling was notentirely fraudulent, but when her clairvoyance was not in working ordershe made use of character-reading with good results. 

"Won't the Gorgios lady have her fortune told?" she asked in wheedlingtones. "Cross Mother Cockleshell's hand with silver and she'll tell thecoming years truly. "

"Why do they call you Mother Cockleshell?" demanded Miss Greeby, waivingthe question of fortune-telling for the time being. 

"Bless your wisdom, it was them fishermen at Grimsby who did so. Iwalked the beaches for years and told charms and gave witchly spells forfine weather. Gentilla Stanley am I called, but Mother Cockleshell wastheir name for me. But the fortune, my tender Gentile--"

"I don't want it told, " interrupted Miss Greeby abruptly. "I don'tbelieve in such rubbish. "

"There is rubbish and there is truth, " said the ancient gypsy darkly. "And them as knows can see what's hidden from others. "

"Well, you will have an opportunity this afternoon of making money. Somefools from The Manor are coming to consult you. "

Mother Cockleshell nodded and grinned to show a set of beautifullypreserved teeth. "I know The Manor, " said she, rubbing her slim hands. "And Lord Garvington, with his pretty sister. "

"Lady Agnes Pine?" asked Miss Greeby. "How do you know, her?"

"I've been in these parts before, my gentle lady, and she was good to mein a sick way. I would have died in the hard winter if she hadn't fed meand nursed me, so to speak. I shall love to see her again. To dick apuro pal is as commoben as a aushti habben, the which, my preciousangel, is true Romany for the Gentile saying, 'To see an old friend isas good as a fine dinner. ' Avali! Avali!" she nodded smilingly. "I shallbe glad to see her, though here I use Romany words to you as doesn'tunderstand the lingo. "

Miss Greeby was not at all pleased to hear Lady Agnes praised; as, knowing that Lambert had loved her, and probably loved her still, shewas jealous enough to wish her all possible harm. However, it was notdiplomatic to reveal her true feelings to Mother Cockleshell, lest theold gypsy should repeat her words to Lady Agnes, so she turned theconversation by pointing to a snow-white cat of great size, who steppeddaintily out of the tent. "I should think, as a witch, your cat ought tobe black, " said Miss Greeby. Mother Cockleshell screeched like anight-owl and hastily pattered some gypsy spell to avert evil. "Why, theold devil is black, " she cried. "And why should I have him in my houseto work evil? This is my white ghost. " Her words were accompanied by agentle stroking of the cat. "And good is what she brings to myroof-tree. But I don't eat from white dishes, or drink from white mugs. No! No! That would be too witchly. "

Miss Greeby mused. "I have heard something about these gypsysuperstitions before, " she remarked meditatively. 

"Avo! Avo! They are in a book written by a great Romany Rye. Leland isthe name of that rye, a gypsy Lee with Gentile land. He added land tothe lea as he was told by one of our people. Such a nice gentleman, kind, and free of his money and clever beyond tellings, as I alwayssays. Many a time has he sat pal-like with me, and 'Gentilla, ' says he, 'your're a bori chovihani'; and that, my generous lady, is the gentlelanguage for a great witch. "

"Chaldea said that you were that, " observed Miss Greeby carelessly. 

"The child speaks truly. Come, cross my hand, sweet lady. "

Miss Greeby passed along half a crown. "I only desire to know onething, " she said, offering her palm. "Shall I get my wish?"

Mother Cockleshell peered into the hands, although she had already madeup her mind what to say. Her faculties, sharpened by years of chicanery, told her from the look which Miss Greeby had given when Lambert followedChaldea, that a desire to marry the man was the wish in question. Andseeing how indifferent Lambert was in the presence of the tall lady, Mother Cockleshell had no difficulty in adjusting the situation in herown artful mind. "No, my lady, " she said, casting away the hand withquite a dramatic gesture. "You will never gain your wish. "

Miss Greeby looked angry. "Bah! Your fortune-telling is all rubbish, asI have always thought, " and she moved away. 

"Tell me that in six months, " screamed the old woman after her. 

"Why six months?" demanded the other, pausing. 

"Ah, that's a dark saying, " scoffed the gypsy. "Call it seven, myhopeful-for-what-you-won't-get, like the cat after the cream, forseven's a sacred number, and the spell is set. "

"Gypsy jargon, gypsy lies, " muttered Miss Greeby, tossing her ruddymane. "I don't believe a word. Tell me--"

"There's no time to say more, " interrupted Mother Cockleshell rudely, for, having secured her money, she did not think it worth while to bepolite, especially in the face of her visitor's scepticism. "One of ourtribe--aye, and he's a great Romany for sure--is coming to camp with us. Each minute he may come, and I go to get ready a stew of hedgehog, forGentile words I must use to you, who are a Gorgio. And so good day toyou, my lady, " ended the old hag, again becoming the truly respectablepew-opener. Then she dropped a curtsey--whether ironical or not, MissGreeby could not tell--and disappeared into the tent, followed by thewhite cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it tobe. 

Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from Mother Cockleshell, who, in the face of her visitor's doubts, had become hostile, so MissGreeby, dismissing the whole episode as over and done with, turned herattention toward finding Lambert. With her bludgeon under her arm andher hands in the pockets of her jacket, she stalked through the camp inquite a masculine fashion, not vouchsafing a single reply to thegreetings which the gypsies gave her. Shortly she saw the artistchatting with Chaldea at the beginning of the path which led to hiscottage. Beside them, on the grass, squatted a queer figure. 

It was that of a little man, very much under-sized, with a hunch backand a large, dark, melancholy face covered profusely with black hair. Hewore corduroy trousers and clumsy boots--his feet and hands wereenormous--together with a green coat and a red handkerchief which wascarelessly twisted round his hairy throat. On his tangledlocks--distressingly shaggy and unkempt--he wore no hat, and he lookedlike a brownie, grotesque, though somewhat sad. But even more did heresemble an ape--or say the missing link--and only his eyes seemedhuman. These were large, dark and brilliant, sparkling like jewels underhis elf-locks. He sat cross-legged on the sward and hugged a fiddle, asthough he were nursing a baby. And, no doubt, he was as attached to hisinstrument as any mother could be to her child. It was not difficult forMiss Greeby to guess that this weird, hairy dwarf was the Servian gypsyKara, of whom Lambert had spoken. She took advantage of the knowledge tobe disagreeable to the girl. 

"Is this your husband?" asked Miss Greeby amiably. 

Chaldea's eyes flashed and her cheeks grew crimson. "Not at all, " shesaid contemptuously. "I have no rom. "

"Ah, your are not married?"

"No, " declared Chaldea curtly, and shot a swift glance at Lambert. 

"She is waiting for the fairy prince, " said that young gentlemansmiling. "And he is coming to this camp almost immediately. "

"Ishmael Hearne is coming, " replied the gypsy. "But he is no rom ofmine, and never will be. "

"Who is he, then?" asked Lambert carelessly. 

"One of the great Romany. "

Miss Greeby remembered that Mother Cockleshell had also spoken of theexpected arrival at the camp in these terms. "A kind of king?" sheasked. 

Chaldea laughed satirically. "Yes; a kind of king, " she assented; thenturned her back rudely on the speaker and addressed Lambert: "I can'tcome, rye. Ishmael will want to see me. I must wait. "

"What a nuisance, " said Lambert, looking annoyed. "Fancy, Clara. I havean idea of painting these two as Beauty and the Beast, or perhaps asEsmeralda and Quasimodo. I want them to come to the cottage and sit now, but they will wait for this confounded Ishmael. "

"We can come to-morrow, " put in Chaldea quickly. "This afternoon I mustdance for Ishmael, and Kara must play. "

"Ishmael will meet with a fine reception, " said Miss Greeby, and then, anxious to have a private conversation with Chaldea so as to disabuseher mind of any idea she may have entertained of marrying Lambert, sheadded, "I think I shall stay and see him. "

"In that case, I shall return to my cottage, " replied Lambert, sauntering up the pathway, which was strewn with withered leaves. 

"When are you coming to The Manor?" called Miss Greeby after him. 

"Never! I am too busy, " he replied over his shoulder and disappearedinto the wood. This departure may seem discourteous, but then MissGreeby liked to be treated like a comrade and without ceremony. Thatis, she liked it so far as other men were concerned, but not as regardsLambert. She loved him too much to approve of his careless leave-taking, and therefore she frowned darkly, as she turned her attention toChaldea. 

The girl saw that Miss Greeby was annoyed, and guessed the cause of herannoyance. The idea that this red-haired and gaunt woman should love thehandsome Gorgio was so ludicrous in Chaldea's eyes that she laughed inan ironical fashion. Miss Greeby turned on her sharply, but before shecould speak there was a sound of many voices raised in welcome. "Sarishan pal! Sarishan ba!" cried the voices, and Chaldea started. 

"Ishmael!" she said, and ran toward the camp, followed leisurely byKara. 

Anxious to see the great Romany, whose arrival caused all thiscommotion, Miss Greeby plunged into the crowd of excited vagrants. Thesesurrounded a black horse, on which sat a slim, dark-faced man of thetrue Romany breed. Miss Greeby stared at him and blinked her eyes, asthough she could not believe what they beheld, while the man waved hishand and responded to the many greetings in gypsy language. His eyesfinally met her own as she stood on the outskirts of the crowd, and hestarted. Then she knew. "Sir Hubert Pine, " said Miss Greeby, stillstaring. "Sir Hubert Pine!"

CHAPTER IV. 

SECRETS. 

The scouting crowd apparently did not catch the name, so busy were oneand all in welcoming the newcomer. But the man on the horse saw MissGreeby's startled look, and noticed that her lips were moving. In amoment he threw himself off the animal and elbowed his way roughlythrough the throng. 

"Sir Hubert, " began Miss Greeby, only to be cut short hastily. 

"Don't give me away, " interrupted Pine, who here was known as IshmaelHearne. "Wait till I settle things, and then we can converse privately. "

"All right, " answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeoncrosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at thesight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak. 

Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends andspoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had somebusiness to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp forthat purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidentlywas such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby fordepriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to thesesigns of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his wayagain toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with histrue position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked MissGreeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood. Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitudefor the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the centralglade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided hiscompanion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren. Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyesat Miss Greeby. 

"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously. 

"Just the question I was about to put to you, " said Miss Greeby amiably. She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistressof the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned. 

"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy, " he snappedrestlessly. 

"Indeed I didn't, nor, I should think, did any one else. I thought youhad nigger blood in you, and I have heard people say that you came fromthe West Indies. But what does it matter if you are a gypsy? There is nodisgrace in being one. "

"No disgrace, certainly, " rejoined the millionaire, leaning forward andlinking his hands together, while he stared at the ground. "I am proudof having the gentle Romany blood. All the same I prefer the West Indianlegend, for I don't want any of my civilized friends to know that I amIshmael Hearne, born and bred in a tent. "

"Well, that's natural, Pine. What would Garvington say?"

"Oh, curse Garvington!"

"Curse the whole family by all means, " retorted Miss Greeby coolly. 

Pine looked up savagely, "I except my wife. "

"Naturally. You always were uxorious. "

"Perhaps, " said Pine gloomily, "I'm a fool where Agnes is concerned. "

Miss Greeby quite agreed with this statement, but did not think it worthwhile to indorse so obvious a remark. She sat down in her turn, andtaking Lambert's cigarette case, which she had retained by accident, outof her pocket, she prepared to smoke. The two were entirely alone in thefairy dell, and the trees which girdled it were glorious with vividautumnal tints. A gentle breeze sighing through the wood, shook downyew, crisp leaves on the woman's head, so that she looked like Danae ina shower of gold. Pine gazed heavily at the ground and coughedviolently. Miss Greeby knew that cough, and a medical friend of hershad told her several times that Sir Hubert was a very consumptiveindividual. He certainly looked ill, and apparently had not long tolive. And if he died, Lady Agnes, inheriting his wealth, would be moredesirable as a wife than ever. And Miss Greeby, guessing whose wife shewould be, swore inwardly that the present husband should look sodelicate. But she showed no sign of her perturbations, but lighted hercigarette with a steady hand and smoked quietly. She always pridedherself on her nerve. 

The millionaire was tall and lean, with a sinewy frame, and an oval, olive-complexioned face. It was clean-shaven, and with his aquilinenose, his thin lips, and brilliant black eyes, which resembled those ofKara, he looked like a long-descended Hindoo prince. The Eastern bloodof the Romany showed in his narrow feet and slim brown hands, and therewas a wild roving look about him, which Miss Greeby had not perceived inLondon. 

"I suppose it's the dress, " she said aloud, and eyed Pine critically. 

"What do you say, Miss Greeby?" he asked, looking up in a sharp, startled manner, and again coughing in a markedly consumptive way. 

"The cowl makes the monk in your case, " replied the woman quietly. "Yourcorduroy breeches and velveteen coat, with that colored shirt, and theyellow handkerchief round your neck, seem to suit you better than didthe frock coats and evening dress I have seen you in. You did look likea nigger of sorts when in those clothes; now I can tell you are a gypsywith half an eye. "

"That is because you heard me called Ishmael and saw me among my kithand kin, " said the man with a tired smile. "Don't tell Agnes. "

"Why should I? It's none of my business if you chose to masquerade as agypsy. "

"I masquerade as Sir Hubert Pine, " retorted the millionaire, slippingoff the stone to sprawl full-length on the grass. "I am truly and reallyone of the lot in the camp yonder. "

"Do they know you by your Gentile name?"

Pine laughed. "You are picking up the gypsy lingo, Miss Greeby. No. Every one on the road takes me for what I am, Ishmael Hearne, and myfriends in the civilized world think I am Sir Hubert Pine, a millionairewith colored blood in his veins. "

"How do you come to have a double personality and live a double life?"

"Oh, that is easily explained, and since you have found me out it isjust as well that I should explain, so that you may keep my secret, atall events from my wife, as she would be horrified to think that she hadmarried a gypsy. You promise?"

"Of course. I shall say nothing. But perhaps she would prefer to knowthat she had married a gypsy rather than a nigger. "

"What polite things you say, " said Pine sarcastically. "However, I can'tafford to quarrel with you. As you are rich, I can't even bribe you tosilence, so I must rely on your honor. "

"Oh, I have some, " Miss Greeby assured him lightly. 

"When it suits you, " he retorted doubtfully. 

"It does on this occasion. "

"Why?"

"I'll tell you that when you have related your story. "

"There is really none to tell. I was born and brought up on the road, and thinking I was wasting my life I left my people and enteredcivilization. In London I worked as a clerk, and being clever I soonmade money. I got hold of a man who invented penny toys, and saw thepossibilities of making a fortune. I really didn't, but I collectedenough money to dabble in stocks and shares. The South African boom wason, and I made a thousand. Other speculations created more than amillion out of my thousand, and now I have over two millions, honestlymade. "

"Honestly?" queried Miss Greeby significantly. 

"Yes; I assure you, honestly. We gypsies are cleverer than you Gentiles, and we have the same money-making faculties as the Jews have. If mypeople were not so fond of the vagrant life they would soon become apower in the money markets of the world. But, save in the case ofmyself, we leave all such grubbing to the Jews. I did grub, and myreward is that I have accumulated a fortune in a remarkably short spaceof time. I have land and houses, and excellent investments, and a title, which, " he added sarcastically, "a grateful Government bestowed on mefor using my money properly. "

"You bought the title by helping the political party you belonged to, "said Miss Greeby with a shrug. "There was quite a talk about it. "

"So there was. As if I cared for talk. However, that is my story. "

"Not all of it. You are supposed to be in Paris, and--"

"And you find me here, " interrupted Pine with a faint smile. "Well yousee, being a gypsy, I can't always endure that under-the-roof life youGentiles live. I must have a spell of the open road occasionally. And, moreover, as my doctor tells me that I have phthisis, and that I shouldlive as much as possible in the open air, I kill two birds with onestone, as the saying is. My health benefits by my taking up the oldRomany wandering, and I gratify my nostalgia for the tent and the wild. You understand, you und--" His speech was interrupted by a fresh fit ofcoughing. 

"It doesn't seem to do you much good this gypsying, " said Miss Greebywith a swift look, for his life was of importance to her plans. "Youlook pretty rocky I can tell you, Pine. And if you die your wife will befree to--" The man sat up and took away from his mouth a handkerchiefspotted with blood. His eyes glittered, and he showed his white teeth. "My wife will be free to what?" he demanded viciously, and the samedevil that had lurked in Mother Cockleshell's eye, now showedconspicuously in his. 

Miss Greeby had no pity on his manifest distress and visible wrath, butanswered obliquely: "You know that she was almost engaged to her cousinbefore you married her, " she hinted pointedly. 

"Yes, I know, d---- him, " said Pine with a groan, and rolled over toclutch at the grass in a vicious manner. "But he's not at The Manor now?"

"No. "

"Agnes doesn't speak of him?"

"No. "

Pine drew a deep breath and rose slowly to his feet, with a satisfiednod. 

"I'm glad of that. She's a good woman is Agnes, and would neverencourage him in any way. She knows what is due to me. I trust her. "

"Do you? When your secretary is also stopping at The Manor?"

"Silver!" Pine laughed awkwardly, and kicked at a tuft of moss. "Well Idid ask him to keep an eye on her, although there is really no occasion. Silver owes me a great deal, since I took him out of the gutter. IfLambert worried my wife, Silver would let me know, and then--"

"And then?" asked Miss Greeby hastily. 

The man clenched his fists and his face grew stormy, as his blooduntamed by civilization surged redly to the surface. "I'd twist hisneck, I'd smash his skull, I'd--I'd--I'd--oh, don't ask me what I'd do. "

"I should keep my temper if I were you, " Miss Greeby warned him, andalarmed by the tempest she had provoked. She had no wish for the man sheloved to come into contact with this savage, veneered by civilization. Yet Lambert was in the neighborhood, and almost within a stone's throwof the husband who was so jealous of him. "Keep your temper, " repeatedMiss Greeby. 

"Is there anything else you would like me to do?" raged Pine fiercely. 

"Yes. Leave this place if you wish to keep the secret of your birth fromyour wife. Lady Garvington and Mrs. Belgrove, and a lot of people fromThe Manor, are coming to the camp to get their fortunes told. You aresure to be spotted. "

"I shall keep myself out of sight, " said Pine sullenly and suspiciously. 

"Some of your gypsy friends may let the cat out of the bag. "

"Not one of them knows there is a cat in the bag. I am Ishmael Hearne tothem, and nothing else. But I shan't stay here long. "

"I wonder you came at all, seeing that your wife is with her brother. "

"In the daring of my coming lies my safety, " said Pine tartly. "I knowwhat I am doing. As to Lambert, if he thinks to marry my wife when I amdead he is mistaken. "

"Well, I hope you won't die, for my sake!"

"Why for your sake?" asked Pine sharply. 

"Because I love Lambert and I want to marry him. "

"Marry him, " said the millionaire hoarsely, "and I'll give you thousandsof pounds. Oh! I forgot that you have a large income. But marry him, marry him, Miss Greeby. I shall help you all I can. "

"I can do without assistance, " said the woman coolly. "All I ask you todo is to refrain from fighting with Lambert. "

"What?" Pine's face became lowering again. "Is he at The Manor? Yousaid--"

"I know what I said. He is not at The Manor, but he is stopping in thecottage a stone's throw from here. "

Pine breathed hard, and again had a spasm of coughing. "What's he doing?"

"Painting pictures. "

"He has not been near The Manor?"

"No. And what is more, he told me to-day that he did not intend to gonear the house. I don't think you need be afraid, Pine. Lambert is a manof honor, and I hope to get him to be my husband. "

"He shall never be my wife's husband, " said the millionaire between histeeth and scowling heavily. "I know that I shan't live to anything likethree score and ten. Your infernal hot-house civilization has killed me. But if Lambert thinks to marry my widow he shall do so in the face ofGarvington's opposition, and will find Agnes a pauper. "

"What do you mean exactly?" Miss Greeby flung away the stump of hercigarette and rose to her feet. 

Pine wiped his brow and breathed heavily. "I mean that I have left Agnesmy money, only on condition that she does _not_ marry Lambert. She canmarry any one else she has a mind to. I except her cousin. "

"Because she loves him?"

"Yes, and because he loves her, d--n him. "

"He doesn't, " cried Miss Greeby, lying fluently, and heartily wishingthat her lie could be a truth. "He loves me, and I intend to marry him. Now you can understand what I meant when I declared that I had honorenough to keep your secret. Lambert is my honor. "

"Oh, then I believe in your honor, " sneered Pine cynically. "It is aselfish quality in this case, which can only be gratified by preservingsilence. If Agnes knew that I was a true Romany tramp, she might runaway with Lambert, and as you want him to be your husband, it is to yourinterest to hold your tongue. Thank you for nothing, Miss Greeby. "

"I tell you Lambert loves me, " cried the woman doggedly, trying topersuade her heart that she spoke truly. "And whether you leave yourmoney to your wife, or to any one else, makes no manner of difference. "

"I think otherwise, " he retorted. "And it is just as well to be on thesafe side. If my widow marries Lambert, she loses my millions, and theygo to--" He checked himself abruptly. "Never mind who gets them. It is aperson in whom you can take no manner of interest. "

Miss Greeby pushed the point of her bludgeon into the spongy ground, andlooked thoughtful. "If Lambert loves Agnes still, which I don'tbelieve, " she observed, after a pause, "he would marry her even if shehadn't a shilling. Your will excluding him as her second husband ismerely the twisting of a rope of sand, Pine. "

"You forget, " said the man quickly, "that I declared also, he would haveto marry her in the face of Garvington's opposition. "

"In what way?"

"Can't you guess? Garvington only allowed me to marry his sister becauseI am a wealthy man. I absolutely bought my wife by helping him, and shegave herself to me without love to save the family name from disgrace. She is a good woman, is Agnes, and always places duty beforeinclination. Marriage with her pauper cousin meant practically thesocial extinction of the Lambert family, and nothing would have remainedbut the title. Therefore she married me, and I felt mean at the time inaccepting the sacrifice. But I was so deeply in love with her that I didso. I love her still, and I am mean enough still to be jealous of thiscousin. She shall never marry him, and I know that Garvington willappeal to his sister's strong desire to save the family once more; sothat she may not be foolish enough to lose the money. And two millions, more or less, " ended Pine cynically, "is too large a sum to pay for asecond husband. "

"Does Agnes know these conditions?"

"No. Nor do I intend that she should know. You hold your tongue. "

Miss Greeby pulled on her heavy gloves and nodded. "I told you that Ihad some notion of honor. Will you let Lambert know that you are in thisneighborhood?"

"No. There is no need. I am stopping here only for a time to see acertain person. Silver will look after Agnes, and is coming to the campto report upon what he has observed. "

"Silver then knows that you are Ishmael Hearne?"

"Yes. He knows all my secrets, and I can trust him thoroughly, since heowes everything to me. "

Miss Greeby laughed scornfully. "That a man of your age and experienceshould believe in gratitude. Well, it's no business of mine. You may becertain that for my own purpose I shall hold my tongue and shall keepLambert from seeking your wife. Not that he loves her, " she addedhastily, as Pine's brows again drew together. "But she loves him, andmay use her arts--"

"Don't you dare to speak of arts in connection with my wife, " broke inthe man roughly. "She is no coquette, and I trust her--"

"So long as Silver looks after her, " finished Miss Greebycontemptuously. "What chivalrous confidence. Well, I must be going. Anymessage to your--"

"No! No! No!" broke in Pine once more. "She is not to know that I amhere, or anything about my true position and name. You promised, and youwill keep your promise. But there, I know that you will, asself-interest will make you. "

"Ah, now you talk common sense. It is a pity you don't bring it to bearin the case of Silver, whom you trust because you have benefited him. Good-day, you very unsophisticated person. I shall see you again--"

"In London as Hubert Pine, " said the millionaire abruptly, and MissGreeby, with a good-humored shrug, marched away, swinging her stick andwhistling gayly. She was very well satisfied with the knowledge she hadobtained, as the chances were that it would prove useful should Lambertstill hanker after the unattainable woman. Miss Greeby had lulled Pine'ssuspicions regarding the young man's love for Agnes, but she knew in herheart that she had only done so by telling a pack of miserable lies. Now, as she walked back to The Manor, she reflected that by using hersecret information dexterously, she might improve such falsehood intotolerable truth. 

Pine flung himself down again when she departed, and coughed in hisusual violent manner. His throat and lungs ached, and his brow was wetwith perspiration. With his elbows on his knees and his face between hishands, he sat miserably thinking over his troubles. There was no chanceof his living more than a few years, as the best doctors in Europe andEngland had given him up, and when he was placed below ground, thechances were that Agnes would marry his rival. He had made things assafe as was possible against such a contingency, but who knew if herlove for Lambert might not make her willing to surrender the millions. "Unless Garvington can manage to arouse her family pride, " groaned Pinedrearily. "She sacrificed herself before for that, and perhaps she willdo so again. But who knows?" And he could find no answer to thisquestion, since it is impossible for any man to say what a woman will dowhere her deepest emotions are concerned. 

A touch on Pine's shoulder made him leap to his feet with the alertnessof a wild animal on the lookout for danger. By his side stood Chaldea, and her eyes glittered, as she came to the point of explanation withoutany preamble. The girl was painfully direct. "I have heard every word, "she said triumphantly. "And I know what you are, brother. "

"Why did you come here?" demanded Pine sharply, and frowning. 

"I wanted to hear what a Romany had to do with a Gorgio lady, brother. And what do I hear. Why, that you dwell in the Gentile houses, and takea Gentile name, and cheat in a Gentile manner, and have wed with aGentile romi. Speaking Romanly, brother, it is not well. "

"It is as I choose, sister, " replied Pine quietly, for since Chaldea hadgot the better of him, it was useless to quarrel with her. "And fromwhat I do good will come to our people. "

Chaldea laughed, and blew from her fingers a feather, carelessly pickedup while in the thicket which had concealed her eavesdropping. "Forthat, I care that, " said she, pointing to the floating feather slowlysettling. "I looks to myself and to my love, brother. "

"Hey?" Pine raised his eyebrows. 

"It's a Gorgio my heart is set on, " pursued Chaldea steadfastly. "Aregular Romany Rye, brother. Do you think Lambert is a good name?"

"It's the name of the devil, sister, " cried Pine hastily. 

"The very devil I love. To me sweet, as to you sour. And speakingRomanly, brother, I want him to be my rom in the Gentile fashion, as youhave a romi in your Gorgious lady. "

"What will Kara say?" said Pine, and his eyes flashed, for the idea ofgetting rid of Lambert in this way appealed to him. The girl wasbeautiful, and with her added cleverness she might be able to gain herends, and these accomplished, would certainly place a barrier betweenAgnes and her cousin, since the woman would never forgive the man forpreferring the girl. 

"Kara plays on the fiddle, but not on my heart-strings, " said Chaldea ina cool manner, and watched Pine wickedly. "You'd better help me, brother, if you don't want that Gorgious romi of yours to pad the hoofwith the rye. "

The blood rushed to Pine's dark cheeks. "What's that?"

"No harm to my rye and I tell you, brother. Don't use the knife. "

"That I will not do, if a wedding-ring from him to you will do as well. "

"It will do, brother, " said Chaldea calmly. "My rye doesn't love me yet, but he will, when I get him away from the Gentile lady's spells. Theydraw him, brother, they draw him. "

"Where do they draw him to?" demanded Pine, his voice thick withpassion. 

"To the Gorgious house of the baro rai, the brother of your romi. Likean owl does he go after dusk to watch the nest. "

"Owl, " muttered Pine savagely. "Cuckoo, rather. Prove this, my sister, and I help you to gain the love you desire. "

"It's a bargain, brother"--she held out her hand inquiringly--"but noknife. "

Pine shook hands. "It's a bargain, sister. Your wedding-ring will partthem as surely as any knife. Tell me more!" And Chaldea in whispers toldhim all. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE WOMAN AND THE MAN. 

Quite unaware that Destiny, that tireless spinner, was weaving sinisterred threads of hate and love into the web of his life, Lambert continuedto live quietly in his woodland retreat. In a somewhat misanthropicframe of mind he had retired to this hermitage, after the failure of hislove affair, since, lacking the society of Agnes, there was nothing leftfor him to desire. From a garden of roses, the world became a sandydesert, and denied the sole gift of fortune, which would have made himcompletely happy, the disconsolate lover foreswore society for solitude. As some seek religion, so Lambert hoped by seeking Nature's breast toassuage the pains of his sore heart. But although the great Mother coulddo so much, she could not do all, and the young man still felt restlessand weary. Hard work helped him more than a little, but he had his darkhours during those intervals when hand and brain were too weary tocreate pictures. 

In one way he blamed Agnes, because she had married for money; inanother way he did not blame her, because that same money had beennecessary to support the falling fortunes of the noble family to whichLambert belonged. An ordinary person would not have understood this, andwould have seen in the mercenary marriage simply a greedy grasping afterthe loaves and fishes. But Lambert, coming at the end of a long line oflordly ancestors, considered that both he and his cousin owed somethingto those of the past who had built up the family. Thus his pride toldhim that Agnes had acted rightly in taking Pine as her husband, whilehis love cried aloud that the sacrifice was too hard upon theirindividual selves. He was a Lambert, but he was also a human being, andthe two emotions of love and pride strove mightily against one another. Although quite three years had elapsed since the victim had been offeredat the altar--and a willing victim to the family fetish--the strugglewas still going on. And because of its stress and strain, Lambertwithdrew from society, so that he might see as little as possible of thewoman he loved. They had met, they had talked, they had looked, in aconventionally light-hearted way, but both were relieved whencircumstances parted them. The strain was too great. 

Pine arranged the circumstances, for hearing here, there, andeverywhere, that his wife had been practically engaged to her cousinbefore he became her husband, he looked with jealous eyes upon theirchance meetings. Neither to Agnes nor Lambert did he say a single word, since he had no reason to utter it, so scrupulously correct was theirbehavior, but his eyes were sufficiently eloquent to reveal hisjealousy. He took his wife for an American tour, and when he brought herback to London, Lambert, knowing only too truly the reason for thattour, had gone away in his turn to shoot big game in Africa. An attackof malaria contracted in the Congo marshes had driven him back toEngland, and it was then that he had begged Garvington to give him TheAbbot's Wood Cottage. For six months he had been shut up here, occasionally going to London, or for a week's walking tour, and duringthat time he had done his best to banish the image of Agnes from hisheart. Doubtless she was attempting the same conquest, for she nevereven wrote to him. And now these two sorely-tried people were withinspeaking distance of one another, and strange results might be lookedfor unless honor held them sufficiently true. Seeing that the cottagewas near the family seat, and that Agnes sooner or later would arrive tostay with her brother and sister-in-law, Lambert might have expectedthat such a situation would come about in the natural course of things. Perhaps he did, and perhaps--as some busybodies said--he took thecottage for that purpose; but so far, he had refrained from seeking thesociety of Pine's wife. He would not even dine at The Manor, nor wouldhe join the shooting-party, although Garvington, with a singularblindness, urged him to do so. While daylight lasted, the artist painteddesperately hard, and after dark wandered round the lanes and roads andacross the fields, haunting almost unconsciously the Manor Park, if onlyto see in moonlight and twilight the casket which held the rich jewel hehad lost. This was foolish, and Lambert acknowledged that it wasfoolish, but at the same time he added inwardly that he was a man andnot an angel, a sinner and not a saint, so that there were limits, etc. , etc. , etc. , using impossible arguments to quieten a lively consciencethat did not approve of this dangerous philandering. 

The visit of Miss Greeby awoke him positively to a sense of danger, forif she talked--and talk she did--other people would talk also. Lambertasked himself if it would be better to visit The Manor and behave likea man who has got over his passion, or to leave the cottage and betakehimself to London. While turning over this problem in his mind, hepainted feverishly, and for three days after Miss Greeby had come tostir up muddy water, he remained as much as possible in his studio. Chaldea visited him, as usual, to be painted, and brought Kara with hisgreen coat and beloved violin and hairy looks. The girl chatted, Karaplayed, and Lambert painted, and all three pretended to be very happyand careless. This was merely on the surface, however, for the artistwas desperately wretched, because the other half of himself was marriedto another man, while Chaldea, getting neither love-look nor caress, felt savagely discontented. As for Kara, he had long since lovedChaldea, who treated him like a dog, and he could not help seeing thatshe adored the Gentile artist--a knowledge which almost broke his heart. But it was some satisfaction for him to note that Lambert would havenothing to do with the siren, and that she could not charm him to herfeet, sang she ever so tenderly. It was an unhappy trio at the best. 

The gypsies usually came in the morning, since the light was then betterfor artistic purposes, but they always departed at one o'clock, so thatLambert had the afternoon to himself. Chaldea would fain have lingeredin order to charm the man she loved into subjection; but he never gaveher the least encouragement, so she was obliged to stay away. All thesame, she often haunted the woods near the cottage, and when Lambertcame out for a stroll, which he usually did when it became too dark topaint, he was bound to run across her. Since he had not the slightestdesire to make love to her, and did not fathom the depth of her passion, he never suspected that she purposely contrived the meetings which helooked upon as accidental. 

Since Chaldea hung round the house, like a moth round a candle, she sawevery one who came and went from the woodland cottage. On the afternoonof the third day since Pine's arrival at the camp in the character ofIshmael Hearne, the gypsy saw Lady Agnes coming through the wood. Chaldea knew her at once, having often seen her when she had come tovisit Mother Cockleshell a few months previously. With characteristiccunning, the girl dived into the undergrowth, and there remainedconcealed for the purpose of spying on the Gentile lady whom sheregarded as a rival. Immediately, Chaldea guessed that Lady Agnes wason her way to the cottage, and, as Lambert was alone as usual for theafternoon, the two would probably have a private conversation. The girlswiftly determined to listen, so that she might learn exactly howmatters stood between them. It might be that she would discoversomething which Pine--Chaldea now thought of him as Pine--might like toknow. So having arranged this in her own unscrupulous mind, the girlbehind a juniper bush jealously watched the unsuspecting lady. What shesaw did not please her overmuch, as Lady Agnes was rather too beautifulfor her unknown rival's peace of mind. 

Sir Hubert's wife was not really the exquisitely lovely creature Chaldeatook her to be, but her fair skin and brown hair were such a contrast tothe gypsy's swarthy face and raven locks, that she really looked like anangel of light compared with the dark child of Nature. Agnes was talland slender, and moved with a great air of dignity and calmself-possession, and this to the uncontrolled Chaldea was also a matterof offence. She inwardly tried to belittle her rival by thinking what amilk-and-water useless person she was, but the steady and resolute lookin the lady's brown eyes gave the lie to this mental assertion. LadyAgnes had an air of breeding and command, which, with all her beauty, Chaldea lacked, and as she passed along like a cold, stately goddess, the gypsy rolled on the grass in an ecstasy of rage. She could never bewhat her rival was, and what her rival was, as she suspected, formedLambert's ideal of womanhood. When she again peered through the bush, Lady Agnes had disappeared. But there was no need for Chaldea to ask herjealous heart where she had gone. With the stealth and cunning of a RedIndian, the gypsy took up the trail, and saw the woman she followedenter the cottage. For a single moment she had it in her mind to run tothe camp and bring Pine, but reflecting that in a moment of rage the manmight kill Lambert, Chaldea checked her first impulse, and bent all herenergies towards getting sufficiently near to listen to a conversationwhich was not meant for her ears. 

Meanwhile, Agnes had been admitted by Mrs. Tribb, a dried-up littlewoman with the rosy face of a winter apple, and a continual smile ofsatisfaction with herself and with her limited world. This consisted ofthe cottage, in the wood, and of the near villages, where she repairedon occasions to buy food. Sometimes, indeed, she went to The Manor, for, born and bred on the Garvington estates, Mrs. Tribb knew all theservants at the big house. She had married a gamekeeper, who had died, and unwilling to leave the country she knew best, had gladly acceptedthe offer of Lord Garvington to look after the woodland cottage. In thisway Lambert became possessed of an exceedingly clean housekeeper, and awonderfully good cook. In fact so excellent a cook was Mrs. Tribb, thatGarvington had frequently suggested she should come to The Manor. But, so far, Lambert had managed to keep the little woman to himself. Mrs. Tribb adored him, since she had known him from babyhood, and declined toleave him under any circumstances. She thought Lambert the best man inthe world, and challenged the universe to find another so handsome andclever, and so considerate. 

"Dear me, my lady, is it yourself?" said Mrs. Tribb, throwing up her drylittle hands and dropping a dignified curtsey. "Well, I do call it goodof you to come and see Master Noel. He don't go out enough, and don'ttake enough interest in his stomach, if your ladyship will pardon mymentioning that part of him. But you don't know, my lady, what it is tobe a cook, and to see the dishes get cold, while he as should eat themgoes on painting, not but what Master Noel don't paint like an angel, asI've said dozens of times. "

While Mrs. Tribb ran on in this manner her lively black eyes twinkledanxiously. She knew that her master and Lady Agnes had been, as she saidherself, "next door to engaged, " and knew also that Lambert was frettingover the match which had been brought about for the glorification of thefamily. The housekeeper, therefore, wondered why Lady Agnes had come, and asked herself whether it would not be wise to say that MasterNoel--from old associations, she always called Lambert by this juveniletitle--was not at home. But she banished the thought as unworthy, themoment it entered her active brain, and with another curtsey in responseto the visitor's greeting, she conducted her to the studio. "Them twoangels will never do no wrong, anyhow, " was Mrs. Tribb's reflection, asshe closed the door and left the pair together. "But I do hope as thatblack-faced husband won't ever learn. He's as jealous as Cain, and Idon't want Master Noel to be no Abel!"

If Mrs. Tribb, instead of going to the kitchen, which she did, had goneout of the front door, she would have found Chaldea lying full lengthamongst the flowers under the large window of the studio. This wasslightly open, and the girl could hear every word that was spoken, whileso swiftly and cleverly had she gained her point of vantage, that thosewithin never for one moment suspected her presence. If they had, theywould assuredly have kept better guard over their tongues, for theconversation was of the most private nature, and did not tend to soothethe eavesdropper's jealousy. 

Lambert was so absorbed in his painting--he was working at theEsmeralda-Quasimodo picture--that he scarcely heard the studio dooropen, and it was only when Mrs. Tribb's shrill voice announced the nameof his visitor, that he woke to the surprising fact that the woman heloved was within a few feet of him. The blood rushed to his face, andthen retired to leave him deadly pale, but Agnes was more composed, anddid not let her heart's tides mount to high-water mark. On seeing herself-possession, the man became ashamed that he had lost his own, andstrove to conceal his momentary lapse into a natural emotion, by pushingforward an arm-chair. 

"This is a surprise, Agnes, " he said in a voice which he strove vainlyto render steady. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you, " and she took her seat like a queen on her throne, lookingfair and gracious as any white lily. What with her white dress, whitegloves and shoes, and straw hat tied under her chin with a broad whiteribbon in old Georgian fashion, she looked wonderfully cool, and pure, and--as Lambert inwardly observed--holy. Her face was as faintly tintedwith color as is a tea-rose, and her calm, brown eyes, under her smoothbrown hair, added to the suggestive stillness of her looks. She seemedin her placidity to be far removed from any earthly emotion, andresembled a picture of the Madonna, serene, peaceful, and somewhat sad. Yet who could tell what anguished feelings were masked by her womanlypride?

"I hope you do not find the weather too warm for walking, " said Lambert, reining in his emotions with an iron hand, and speaking conventionally. 

"Not at all. I enjoyed the walk. I am staying at The Manor. "

"So I understand. "

"And you are staying here?"

"There can be no doubt on that point. "

"Do you think you are acting wisely?" she asked with great calmness. 

"I might put the same question to you, Agnes, seeing that you have cometo live within three miles of my hermitage. "

"It is because you are living in what you call your hermitage that Ihave come, " rejoined Agnes, with a slight color deepening her cheeks. "Is it fair to me that you should shut yourself up and play the part ofthe disappointed lover?"

Lambert, who had been touching up his picture here and there, laid downhis palette and brushes with ostentatious care, and faced her doggedly. "I don't understand what you mean, " he declared. 

"Oh, I think you do; and in the hope that I may induce you, in justiceto me, to change your conduct, I have come over. "

"I don't think you should have come, " he observed in a low voice, andthrew himself on the couch with averted eyes. 

Lady Agnes colored again. "You are talking nonsense, " she said with somesharpness. "There is no harm in my coming to see my cousin. "

"We were more than cousins once. "

"Exactly, and unfortunately people know that. But you needn't makematters worse by so pointedly keeping away from me. "

Lambert looked up quickly. "Do you wish me to see you often?" he asked, and there was a new note in his voice which irritated her. 

"Personally I don't, but--"

"But what?" He rose and stood up, very tall and very straight, lookingdown on her with a hungry look in his blue eyes. 

"People are talking, " murmured the lady, and stared at the floor, because she could not face that same look. 

"Let them talk. What does it matter?"

"Nothing to you, perhaps, but to me a great deal. I have a husband. "

"As I know to my cost, " he interpolated. 

"Then don't let me know it to _my_ cost, " she said pointedly. "Sit downand let us talk common sense. "

Lambert did not obey at once. "I am only a human being, Agnes--"

"Quite so, and a man at that. Act like a man, then, and don't place theburden on a woman's shoulders. "

"What burden?"

"Oh, Noel, can't you understand?"

"I daresay I can if you will explain. I wish you hadn't come hereto-day. I have enough to bear without that. "

"And have I nothing to bear?" she demanded, a flash of passion rufflingher enforced calm. "Do you think that anything but the direst needbrought me here?"

"I don't know what brought you here. I am waiting for an explanation. "

"What is the use of explaining what you already know?"

"I know nothing, " he repeated doggedly. "Explain. "

"Well, " said Lady Agnes with some bitterness, "it seems to me that anexplanation is really necessary, as apparently I am talking to a childinstead of a man. Sit down and listen. "

This time Lambert obeyed, and laughed as he did so. "Your taunts don'thurt me in the least, " he observed. "I love you too much. "

"And I love in return. No! Don't rise again. I did not come here torevive the embers of our dead passion. "

"Embers!" cried Lambert with bitter scorn. "Embers, indeed! And a deadpassion; how well you put it. So far as I am concerned, Agnes, thepassion is not dead and never will be. "

"I am aware of that, and so I have come to appeal to that passion. Lovemeans sacrifice. I want you to understand that. "

"I do, by experience. Did I not surrender you for the sake of the familyname? Understand! I should think I did understand. "

"I--think--not, " said Lady Agnes slowly and gently. "It is necessary torevive your recollections. We loved one another since we were boy andgirl, and we intended, as you know, to marry. There was no regularengagement between us, but it was an understood family arrangement. Myfather always approved of it; my brother did not. "

"No. Because he saw in you an article of sale out of which he hoped tomake money, " sneered Lambert, nursing his ankle. 

Lady Agnes winced. "Don't make it too hard for me, " she saidplaintively. "My life is uncomfortable enough as it is. Remember thatwhen my father died we were nearly ruined. Only by the greatestcleverness did Garvington manage to keep interest on the mortgages paidup, hoping that he would marry a rich wife--an American for choice--andso could put things straight. But he married Jane, as you know--"

"Because he is a glutton, and she knows all about cooking. "

"Well, gluttony may be as powerful a vice as drinking and gambling, andall the rest of it. It is with Garvington, although I daresay thatseeing the position he was in, people would laugh to think he shouldmarry a poor woman, when he needed a rich wife. But at that time Hubertwanted to marry me, and Garvington got his cook-wife, while I wassacrificed. "

"Seeing that I loved you and you loved me, I wonder--"

"Yes, I know you wondered, but you finally accepted my explanation thatI did it to save the family name. "

"I did, and, much as I hated your sacrifice, it was necessary. "

"More necessary than you think, " said Lady Agnes, sinking her voice toa whisper and glancing round, "In a moment of madness Garvington altereda check which Hubert gave him, and was in danger of arrest. Hubertdeclared that he would give up the check if I married him. I did so, tosave my brother and the family name. "

"Oh, Agnes!" Lambert jumped up. "I never knew this. "

"It was not necessary to tell you. I made the excuse of saving thefamily name and property generally. You thought it was merely thebankruptcy court, but I knew that it meant the criminal court. However, I married Hubert, and he put the check in the fire in my presence and inGarvington's. He has also fulfilled his share of the bargain which hemade when he bought me, and has paid off a great many of the mortgages. However, Garvington became too outrageous in his demands, and latelyHubert has refused to help him any more. I don't blame him; he has paidenough for me. "

"You are worth it, " said Lambert emphatically. 

"Well, you may think so, and perhaps he does also. But does it notstrike you, Noel, what a poor figure I and Garvington, and the wholefamily, yourself included, cut in the eyes of the world? We were poor, and I was sold to get money to save the land. "

"Yes, but this changing of the check also--"

"The world doesn't know of that, " said Agnes hurriedly. "Hubert has beenvery loyal to me. I must be loyal to him. "

"You are. Who dares to say that you are not?"

"No one--as yet, " she replied pointedly. 

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, flushing through his fair skin. 

"I mean that if you met me in the ordinary way, and behaved to me as anordinary man, people would not talk. But you shun my society, and evenwhen I am at The Manor, you do not come near because of my presence. "

"It is so hard to be near you and yet, owing to your marriage, so farfrom you, " muttered the man savagely. 

"If it is hard for you, think how hard it must be for me, " said thewoman vehemently, her passion coming to the surface. "People talk of theway in which you avoid me, and hint that we love one another still. "

"It is true! Agnes, you know it is true!"

"Need the whole world know that it is true?" cried Agnes, rising, witha gust of anger passing over her face. "If you would only come to TheManor, and meet me in London, and accept Hubert's invitations to dinner, people would think that our attachment was only a boy and girlengagement, that we had outgrown. They would even give me credit forloving Hubert--"

"But you don't?" cried Lambert with a jealous pang. 

"Yes, I do. He is my chosen husband, and has carried out his part of thebargain by freeing many of Garvington's estates. Surely the man ought tohave something for his money. I don't love him as a wife should love herhusband, not with heart-whole devotion, that is. But I give him loyalty, and I respect him, and I try to make him happy in every way. I do mypart, Noel, as you do yours. Since I have been compelled to sacrificelove for money, at least let us be true to the sacrifice. "

"You didn't sacrifice yourself wholly for money. "

"No, I did not. It was because of Garvington's crime. But no one knowsof that, and no one ever shall know. In fact, so happy am I andHubert--"

"Happy?" said Lambert wincing. 

"Yes, " she declared firmly. "He thinks so, and whatever unhappiness Imay feel, I conceal from him. But you must come to The Manor, and meetme here, there, and everywhere, so that people shall not say, as theyare doing, that you are dying of love, and that, because I am a greedyfortune-hunter, I ruined your life. "

"They do not dare. I have not heard any--"

"What can you hear in this jungle?" interrupted Lady Agnes with scorn. "You stop your ears with cotton wool, but I am in the world, hearingeverything. And the more unpleasant the thing is, the more readily doI hear it. You can end this trouble by coming out of your lovesickretirement, and by showing that you no longer care for me. "

"That would be acting a lie. "

"And do I not act a lie?" she cried fiercely. "Is not my whole marriagea lie? I despise myself for my weakness in yielding, and yet, God helpme, what else could I do when Garvington's fair fame was in question?Think of the disgrace, had he been prosecuted by Hubert. And Hubertknows that you and I loved; that I could not give him the love hedesired. He was content to accept me on those terms. I don't say he wasright; but am I right, are you right, is Garvington right? Is any one ofus right? Not one, not one. The whole thing is horrible, but I make thebest of it, since I did what I did do, openly and for a serious purposeof which the world knows nothing. Do your part, Noel, and come to TheManor, if only to show that you no longer care for me. Youunderstand"--she clasped her hands in agony. "You surely understand. "

"Yes, " said Lambert in a low voice, and suddenly looked years older. "Iunderstand at last, Agnes. You shall no longer bear the burden alone. Ishall be a loyal friend to you, my dear, " and he took her hand. 

"Will you be a loyal friend to my husband?" she asked, withdrawing it. 

"Yes, " said Lambert, and he bit his lip. "God helping me, I will. "

CHAPTER VI. 

THE MAN AND THE WOMAN. 

The interview between Lady Agnes and Lambert could scarcely be called alove-scene, since it was dominated by a stern sense of duty. Chaldea, lying at length amongst the crushed and fragrant flowers, herself in herparti-colored attire scarcely distinguishable from the rainbow blossoms, was puzzled by the way in which the two reined in their obviouspassions. To her simple, barbaric nature, the situation appearedimpossible. If he loved her and she loved him, why did they not run awayto enjoy life together? The husband who had paid money for the wife didnot count, nor did the brother, who had sold his sister to hide hiscriminal folly. That Lady Agnes should have traded herself to saveGarvington from a well-deserved punishment, seemed inexcusable to thegypsy. If he had been the man she loved, then indeed might she haveacted rightly. But having thrown over that very man in this sillyfashion, for the sake of what did not appear to be worth the sacrifice, Chaldea felt that Agnes did not deserve Lambert, and she then and theredetermined that the Gentile lady should never possess him. 

Of course, on the face of it, there was no question of possession. Theman being weaker than the woman would have been only too glad to elope, and thus cut the Gordian knot of the unhappy situation. But the woman, having acted from a high sense of duty, which Chaldea could not rise to, evidently was determined to continue to be a martyr. The question was, could she keep up that pose in the face of the undeniable fact that sheloved her cousin? The listening girl thought not. Sooner or later theartificial barrier would be broken through by the held-back flood ofpassion, and then Lady Agnes would run away from the man who had boughther. And quite right, too, thought Chaldea, although she had no notionof permitting such an elopement to take place. That Agnes would hold toher bargain all her life, because Hubert had fulfilled his part, neveroccurred to the girl. She was not civilized enough to understand thisproblem of a highly refined nature. 

Since the situation was so difficult, Lambert was glad to see the backof his cousin. He escorted her to the door, but did not attend herthrough the wood. In fact, they parted rather abruptly, which was wise. All had been said that could be said, and Lambert had given his promiseto share the burden with Agnes by acting the part of a lover who hadnever really been serious. But it did not do to discuss details, asthese were too painful, so the woman hurried away without a backwardglance, and Lambert, holding his heart between his teeth, returned tothe studio. Neither one of the two noticed Chaldea crouching amongst theflowers. Had they been less pre-occupied, they might have done so; as itwas she escaped observation. 

As soon as the coast was clear, Chaldea stole like a snake along theground, through the high herbage of the garden, and beyond the circle ofthe mysterious monoliths. Even across the lawns of the glade did shecrawl, so as not to be seen, although she need not have taken all thistrouble, since Lambert, with a set face and a trembling hand, wasworking furiously at a minor picture he utilized to get rid of suchmoods. But the gypsy did not know this, and so writhed into the woodslike the snake of Eden--and of that same she was a very fairsample--until, hidden by the boles of ancient trees, she could standupright. When she did so, she drew a long breath, and wondered what wasbest to be done. 

The most obvious course was to seek Ishmael and make a lying report ofthe conversation. That his wife should have been with Lambert would bequite enough to awaken the civilized gypsy's jealousy, for after all hiscivilization was but skin deep. Still, if she did this, Chaldea wasclever enough to see that she would precipitate a catastrophe, andeither throw Agnes into Lambert's arms, or make the man run the risk ofgetting Pine's knife tickling his fifth rib. Either result did notappeal to her. She wished to get Lambert to herself, and his safety wasof vital importance to her. After some consideration, she determinedthat she would boldly face the lover, and confess that she had overheardeverything. Then she would have him in her power, since to save thewife from the vengeance of the husband, although there was no reason forsuch vengeance, he would do anything to keep the matter of the visitquiet. Of course the interview had been innocent, and Chaldea knew thatsuch was the case. Nevertheless, by a little dexterous lying, and somevivid word-painting, she could make things extremely unpleasant for thecouple. This being so, Lambert would have to subscribe to her terms. Andthese were, that he should leave Agnes and marry her. That there wassuch a difference in their rank mattered nothing to the girl. Lovelevelled all ranks, in her opinion. 

But while arranging what she should do, if Lambert proved obstinate, Chaldea also arranged to fascinate him, if possible, into loving her. She did not wish to use her power of knowledge until her power offascination failed. And this for two reasons. In the first place, it wasnot her desire to drive the man into a corner lest he should defy herand fight, which would mean--to her limited comprehension--thateverything being known to Pine, the couple would confess all and elope. In the second place, Chaldea was piqued to think that Lambert shouldprove to be so indifferent to her undeniable beauty, as to love thispale shadow of a Gentile lady. She would make certain, she told herself, if he really preferred the lily to the full-blown rose, and on hischoice depended her next step. Gliding back to the camp, she decided toattend to one thing at a time, and the immediate necessity was to charmthe man into submission. For this reason Chaldea sought out the Serviangypsy, who was her slave. 

Her slave Kara certainly was, but not her rom. If he had been herhusband she would not have dared to propose to him what she did propose. He was amiable enough as a slave, because he had no hold over her, butif she married him according to the gypsy law, he would then be hermaster, and should she indulge her fancy for a Gentile, he wouldassuredly use a very nasty-looking knife, which he wore under the greencoat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to herdancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew howto manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairylittle ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless shechose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would bedifferent, but the time had not come for marital slavery. 

The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of thetent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was thelittle man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. Hespoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea, since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied themnow, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back, he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he knownthat the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have beenso pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speakEnglish. 

"Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunsetwhich slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?"

"He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?"

Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany?Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt. "

"Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of thegentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin. 

"Gentile but not gentle, " said Chaldea punning, then checked herselflest she should say too much. She had sworn to keep Pine's secret, andintended to do so, until she could make capital out of it. At presentshe could not, so behaved honorably. "But he's Romany enough to splitwords with the old witch by the hour, so let him stay where he is. Brother, would you make money?" Kara nodded and looked up with diamondeyes, which glittered and gloated on the beauty of her dark face. "Then, brother, " continued the girl, "the Gorgio who paints gives me gold todance for him. "

The Servian's face--what could be seen of it for hair--grew sombre, andhe spat excessively. "Curses on the Gentile!" he growled low in histhroat. 

"On him, but not on the money, brother, " coaxed the girl, stooping topat his face. "It's fine work, cheating the rye. But jealous you mustnot be, if the gold is to chink in our pockets. "

Kara still frowned. "Were you my romi, sister--"

"Aye, if I were. Then indeed. But your romi I am not yet. "

"Some day you will be. It would be a good fortune, sister. I am as uglyas you are lovely, and we two together, you dancing to my playing, wouldmake pockets of red gold. White shows best when placed on black. "

"What a mine of wisdom you are, " jeered Chaldea, nodding. "Yes. It isso, and my rom you may be, if you obey. "

"But if you let the Gorgio make love to you--"

"Hey! Am I not a free Roman, brother? You have not yet caught the bird. It still sings on the bough. If I kiss him I suck gold from his lips. IfI put fond arms around his neck I but gather wealth for us both. Can yousnare a mouse without cheese, brother?"

Kara looked at her steadily, and then lifted his green coat to showthe gleam of a butcher knife. "Should you go too far, " he saidsignificantly; and touched the blade. 

Chaldea bent swiftly, and snatching the weapon from his belt, flung itinto the coarse grass under the trees. "So I fling you away, " said she, and stamped with rage. "Truly, brother, speaking Romanly, you are a foolof fools, and take cheating for honesty. I lure the Gorgio at my will, and says you whimpering-like, 'She's my romi, ' the which is a lie. Blessyour wisdom for a hairy toad, and good-bye, for I go to my own peoplenear Lundra, and never will he who doubted my honesty see me more. "

She turned away, and Kara limped after her to implore forgiveness. Heassured her that he trusted her fully, and that whatever tricks sheplayed the Gentile would not be taken seriously by himself. "Poison himI would, " grumbled the little gnome in his beard. "For his golden talkmakes you smile sweetly upon him. But for the gold--"

"Yes, for the gold we must play the fox. Well, brother, now that youtalk so, wait until the moon is up, then hide in the woods round thecottage dell with your violin to your chin. I lure the rabbit from itshole, and then you play the dance that delights the Gorgios. But what Ido, with kisses or arm-loving, my brother, " she added shaking herfinger, "is but the play of the wind to shake the leaves. Believe mehonest and my rom you shall be--some day!" and she went away laughing, to eat and drink, for the long watching had tired her. As for Kara hecrawled again into the underwood to search for his knife. Apparently hedid not trust Chaldea as much as she wanted him to. 

Thus it came about that when the moon rolled through a starry sky like agolden wheel, Lambert, sighing at his studio window, saw a slim andgraceful figure glide into the clear space of lawn beyond the monoliths. So searching was the thin moonlight that he recognized Chaldea at once, as she wandered here and there restless as a butterfly, and apparentlyas aimless. But, had he known it, she had her eyes on the cottage allthe time, and had he failed to come forth she would have come to inquireif he was at home. But the artist did come forth, thinking to wile awayan hour with the fascinating gypsy girl. Always dressing for dinner, even in solitude, for the habit of years was too strong to layaside--and, moreover, he was fastidious in his dress to preserve hisself-respect--he appeared at the door looking slender and well-set up inhis dark clothes. Although it was August the night was warm, and Lambertdid not trouble to put on cap or overcoat. With his hands in his pocketsand a cigar between his lips he strolled over to the girl, where sheswayed and swung in the fairy light. 

"Hullo, Chaldea, " he said leisurely, and leaning against one of themoss-grown monoliths, "what are you doing here?"

"The rye, " exclaimed Chaldea, with a well-feigned start of surprise. "Avali the rye. Sarishan, my Gorgious gentleman, you, too, are anightbird. Have you come out mousing like an owl? Ha! ha! and you hearthe nightingale singing, speaking in the Gentile manner, " and clappingher hands she lifted up a full rich voice. 

"Dyal o pani repedishis, M'ro pirano hegedishis. "

"What does that mean, Chaldea?"

"It is an Hungarian song, and means that while the stream flows I hearthe violin of my love. Kara taught me the ditty. "

"And Kara is your love?"

"No. Oh, no; oh, no, " sang Chaldea, whirling round and round in quite amagical manner. "No rom have I, but a mateless bird I wander. Still Ihear the violin of my true love, my new love, who knows my droms, andthat means my habits, rye, " she ended, suddenly speaking in a naturalmanner. 

"I don't hear the violin, however, " said Lambert lazily, and thinkingwhat a picturesque girl she was in her many-hued rag-tag garments, andwith the golden coins glittering in her black hair. 

"You will, rye, you will, " she said confidentially. "Come, my darlinggentleman, cross my hand with silver and I dance. I swear it. No hokkenybaro will you behold when the wind pipes for me. "

"Hokkeny baro. "

"A great swindle, my wise sir. Hai, what a pity you cannot patter thegentle Romany tongue. Kek! Kek! What does it matter, when you speakGentile gibberish like an angel. Sit, rye, and I dance for you. "

"Quite like Carmen and Don José in the opera, " murmured Lambert, slidingdown to the foot of the rude stone. 

"What of her and of him? Were they Romans?"

"Carmen was and José wasn't. She danced herself into his heart. "

Chaldea's eyes flashed, and she made a hasty sign to attract the happyomen of his saying to herself. "Kushto bak, " cried Chaldea, using thegypsy for good luck. "And to me, to me, " she clapped her hand. "Hark, mygolden rye, and watch me dance your love into my life. "

The wind was rising and sighed through the wood, shaking myriad leavesfrom the trees. Blending with its faint cry came a long, sweet, sustained note of music. Lambert started, so weird and unexpected wasthe sound. "Kara, isn't it?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Chaldea. 

"He talks to the night--he speaks with the wind. Oh-ah-ah-ah. Ah-oha-oha-oha-ho, " sang the gypsy, clapping her hands softly, then, as the music came breathing from the hidden violin in dreamy sensuoustones, she raised her bare arms and began to dance. The place, thedancer, the hour, the mysterious music, and the pale enchantments ofthe moon--it was like fairyland. 

Lambert soon let his cigar go out, so absorbed did he become in watchingthe dance. It was a wonderful performance, sensuous and weirdly unusual. He had never seen a dance exactly like it before. The violin notessounded like actual words, and the dancer answered them with responsivemovements of her limbs, so that without speech the onlooker saw alove-drama enacted before his eyes. Chaldea--so he interpreted thedance--swayed gracefully from the hips, without moving her feet, in thestyle of a Nautch girl. She was waiting for some one, since to right andleft she swung with a delicate hand curved behind her ear. Suddenly shestarted, as if she heard an approaching footstep, and in maidenlyconfusion glided to a distance, where she stood with her hands acrossher bosom, the very picture of a surprised nymph. Mentally, the dancetranslated itself to Lambert somewhat after this fashion:

"She waits for her lover. That little run forward means that she seeshim coming. She falls at his feet; she kisses them. He raises her--Isuppose that panther spring from the ground means that he raises her. She caresses him with much fondling and many kisses. By Jove, whatpantomime! Now she dances to please him. She stops and trembles; thedance does not satisfy. She tries another. No! No! Not that! It is toodreamy--the lover is in a martial mood. This time she strikes his fancy. Kara is playing a wild Hungarian polonaise. Wonderful! Wonderful!"

He might well say so, and he struggled to his feet, leaning against thepillar of stone to see the dancer better. From the wood came the fierceand stirring Slav music, and Chaldea's whole expressive body answered toevery note as a needle does to a magnet. She leaped, clicking her heelstogether, advanced, as if on the foe, with a bound--was flung back--soit seemed--and again sprang to the assault. She stiffened to stubbornresistance--she unexpectedly became pliant and yielding and graceful, and voluptuous, while the music took on the dreamy tones of love. AndLambert translated the change after his own idea:

"The music does not please the dancer--it is too martial. She fears lesther lover should rush off to the wars, and seeks to detain him by thedance of Venus. But he will go. He rises; he speeds away; she breaks offthe dance. Ah! what a cry of despair the violin gave just now. Shefollows, stretching out her empty arms. But it is useless--he is gone. Bah! She snaps her fingers. What does she care! She will dance to pleaseherself, and to show that her heart is yet whole. What a Bacchanalianstrain. She whirls and springs and swoops and leaps. She comes near tome, whirling like a Dervish; she recedes, and then comes spinning roundagain, like a mad creature. And then--oh, hang it! What do you mean?Chaldea, what are you doing?"

Lambert had some excuse for suddenly bursting into speech, when he criedout vigorously: "Oh, hang it!" for Chaldea whirled right up to him andhad laid her arms round his neck, and her lips against his cheek. Themusic stopped abruptly, with a kind of angry snarl, as if Kara, furiousat the sight, had put his wrath into the last broken note. Then all wassilent, and the artist found himself imprisoned in the arms of thewoman, which were locked round his neck. With an oath he unlinked herfingers and flung her away from him fiercely. 

"You fool--you utter fool!" cried Lambert, striving to calm down thebeating of his heart, and restrain the racing of his blood, for he wasa man, and the sudden action of the gypsy had nearly swept away hisself-restraint. 

"I love you--I love you, " panted Chaldea from the grass, where he hadthrown her. "Oh, my beautiful one, I love you. "

"You are crazy, " retorted Lambert, quivering with many emotions to whichhe could scarcely put a name, so shaken was he by the experience. "Whatthe devil do you mean by behaving in this way?" and his voice rose insuch a gust of anger that Kara, hidden in the wood, rejoiced. He couldnot understand what was being said, but the tone of the voice was enoughfor him. He did not know whether Chaldea was cheating the Gentile, orcheating him; but he gathered that in either case, she had beenrepulsed. The girl knew that also, when her ardent eyes swept acrossLambert's white face, and she burst into tears of anger anddisappointment. 

"Oh, rye, I give you all, and you take nothing, " she wailed tearfully. 

"I don't want anything. You silly girl, do you think that for one momentI was ever in love with you?"

"I--I--want you--to--to--love me, " sobbed Chaldea, grovelling on thegrass. 

"Then you want an impossibility, " and to Lambert's mind's eye thereappeared the vision of a calm and beautiful face, far removed in itspure looks from the flushed beauty of the fiery gypsy. To gain controlof himself, he took out a cigar and lighted it. But his hand trembled. "You little fool, " he muttered, and sauntered, purposely, slowly towardthe cottage. 

Chaldea gathered herself up with the spring of a tigress, and in amoment was at his elbow with her face black with rage. Her tears hadvanished and with them went her softer mood. "You--you reject me, " shesaid in grating tones, and shaking from head to foot as she gripped hisshoulder. 

"Take away your hand, " commanded Lambert sharply, and when she recoileda pace he faced her squarely. "You must have been drinking, " hedeclared, hoping to insult her into common sense. "What would Kara sayif--"

"I don't want Kara. I want you, " interrupted Chaldea, her breastheaving, and looking sullenly wrathful. 

"Then you can't have me. Why should you think of me in this silly way?We were very good friends, and now you have spoiled everything. I cannever have you to sit for me again. "

Chaldea's lip drooped. "Never again? Never again?"

"No. It is impossible, since you have chosen to act in this way. Come, you silly girl, be sensible, and--"

"Silly girl! Oh, yes, silly girl, " flashed out Chaldea. "And what isshe?"

"She?" Lambert stiffened himself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the Gentile lady. I was under the window this afternoon. I heardall you were talking about. "

The man stepped back a pace and clenched his hands. "You--listened?" heasked slowly, and with a very white face. 

Chaldea nodded with a triumphant smile. 

"Avali! And why not? You have no right to love another man's romi. "

"I do not love her, " began Lambert, and then checked himself, as hereally could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Whydid you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his drylips. 

"Because I love you, and love is jealous. "

Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "Youare talking nonsense, " he declared with enforced calmness. "And it isridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least foryou. "

"It will come--I can wait, " insisted Chaldea sullenly. 

"If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't loveyou, and I have never given you any reason to think so. "

"Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?"

"A raclan?"

"A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?"

"I--I--see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things withyou, as my affairs are not your business. "

"They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom. "

"Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of--"

"I know that the Gentle Pine is really one of us, " interrupted the girlquickly. "Ishmael Hearne is his name. "

"Sir Hubert Pine?"

"Ishmael Hearne, " insisted Chaldea pertly. "He comes to the fire of theGentle Romany when he wearies of your Gorgious flesh-pots. "

"Pine a gypsy, " muttered Lambert, and the memory of that dark, lean, Eastern face impressed him with the belief that what the girl said wastrue. 

"Avali. A true son of the road. He is here. "

"Here?" Lambert started violently. "What do you mean?"

"I say what I mean, rye. He you call Pine is in our camp enjoying theold life. Shall I bring him to you?" she inquired demurely. 

In a flash Lambert saw his danger, and the danger of Agnes, seeing thatthe millionaire was as jealous as Othello. However, it seemed to himthat honesty was the best policy at the moment. "I shall see him myselflater, " he declared after a pause. "If you listened, you must know thatthere is no reason why I should not see him. His wife is my cousin, andpaid me a friendly visit--that is all. "

"Yes; that is all, " mocked the girl contemptuously. "But if I tellhim--"

"Tell him what?"

"That you love his romi!"

"He knows that, " said Lambert quietly. "And knows also that I am anhonorable man. See here, Chaldea, you are dangerous, because this sillylove of yours has warped your common sense. You can make a lot ofmischief if you so choose, I know well. "

"And I _shall_ choose, my golden rye, if you love me not. "

"Then set about it at once, " said Lambert boldly. "It is best to behonest, my girl. I have done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to doanything wrong, so you can say what you like. To-night I shall go toLondon, and if Pine, or Hearne, or whatever you call him, wants me, heknows my town address. "

"You defy me?" panted Chaldea, her breast rising and falling quickly. 

"Yes; truth must prevail in the end. I make no bargain with a spy, " andhe gave her a contemptuous look, as he strode into the cottage and shutthe door with an emphatic bang. 

"Hai!" muttered the gypsy between her teeth. "Hatch till the dood wellsapré, " which means: "Wait until the moon rises!" an ominous saying forLambert. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE SECRETARY. 

"Was ever a man in so uncomfortable a position?"

Lambert asked himself this question as soon as he was safe in hisstudio, and he found it a difficult one to answer. It was true that whathe had said to Agnes, and what Agnes had said to him, was perfectlyhonest and extremely honorable, considering the state of their feelings. But the conversation had been overheard by an unscrupulous woman, whosejealousy would probably twist innocence into guilt. It was certain thatshe would go to Pine and give him a garbled version of what had takenplace, in which case the danger was great, both to himself and to Agnes. Lambert had spoken bravely enough to the marplot, knowing that he haddone no wrong, but now he was by no means sure that he had actedrightly. Perhaps it would have been better to temporize but that wouldhave meant a surrender young to Chaldea's unmaidenly wooing. And, as theman had not a spark of love for her in a heart given entirely to anotherwoman, he was unwilling even to feign playing the part of a lover. 

On reflection he still held to his resolution to go to London, thinkingthat it would be best for him to be out of reach of Agnes while Pine wasin the neighborhood. The news that the millionaire was a gypsy hadastonished him at first; but now that he considered the man's darkcoloring and un-English looks, he quite believed that what Chaldea saidwas true. And he could understand also that Pine--or Hearne, since thatwas his true name--would occasionally wish to breathe the free air ofheath and road since he had been cradled under a tent, and must at timesfeel strongly the longing for the old lawless life. But why should herevert to his beginnings so near to his brother-in-law's house, wherehis wife was staying? "Unless he came to keep an eye on her, " murmuredLambert, and unconsciously hit on the very reason of the pseudo-gypsy'spresence at Garvington. 

After all, it would be best to go to London for a time to wait untilhe saw what Chaldea would do. Then he could meet Pine and have anunderstanding with him. The very fact that Pine was a Romany, and was onhis native heath, appealed to Lambert as a reason why he should not seekout the man immediately, as he almost felt inclined to do, in order toforestall Chaldea's story. As Hearne, the millionaire's wild instinctswould be uppermost, and he would probably not listen to reason, whereasif the meeting took place in London, Pine would resume to a certainextent his veneer of civilization and would be more willing to dojustice. 

"Yes, " decided Lambert, rising and stretching himself. "I shall go toLondon and wait to turn over matters in my own mind. I shall say nothingto Agnes until I know what is best to be done about Chaldea. Meanwhile, I shall see the girl and get her to hold her tongue for a time--Damn!"He frowned. "It's making the best of a dangerous situation, but I don'tsee my way to a proper adjustment yet. The most necessary thing is togain time. "

With this in his mind he hastily packed a gladstone bag, changed intotweeds, and told Mrs. Tribb that he was going to London for a day or so. "I shall get a trap at the inn and drive to the station, " he said, as hehalted at the door. "You will receive a wire saying when I shallreturn, " and leaving the dry little woman, open-mouthed at this suddendeparture, the young man hastened away. 

Instead of going straight to the village, he took a roundabout road tothe camp on the verge of Abbot's Wood. Here he found the vagrants in astate of great excitement, as Lord Garvington had that afternoon sentnotice by a gamekeeper that they were to leave his land the next day. Taken up with his own private troubles, Lambert did not pay muchattention to those of the tribe, and looked about for Chaldea. Hefinally saw her sitting by one of the fires, in a dejected attitude, and touched her on the shoulder. At once, like a disturbed animal, sheleaped to her feet. 

"The rye!" said Chaldea, with a gasp, and a hopeful look on her face. 

"Give me three days before you say anything to Pine, " said Lambert in alow voice, and a furtive look round. "You understand. "

"No, " said the girl boldly. "Unless you mean--"

"Never mind what I mean, " interrupted the man hastily, for he wasdetermined not to commit himself. "Will you hold your tongue for threedays?"

Chaldea looked hard at his face, upon which the red firelight playedbrightly, but could not read what was in his mind. However, she thoughtthat the request showed a sign of yielding, and was a mute confessionthat he knew he was in her power. "I give you three days, " she murmured. "But--"

"I have your promise then, so good-bye, " interrupted Lambert abruptly, and walked away hastily in the direction of Garvington village. His mindwas more or less of a chaos, but at all events he had gained time toreduce the chaos to some sort of order. Still as yet he could not seethe outcome of the situation and departed swiftly in order to think itover. 

Chaldea made a step or two, as if to follow, but a reflection that shecould do no good by talking at the moment, and a certainty that she heldhim in the hollow of her hand, made her pause. With a hitch of hershapely shoulders she resumed her seat by the fire, brooding sombrely onthe way in which this Gentile had rejected her love. Bending her blackbrows and showing her white teeth like an irritated dog, she inwardlycursed herself for cherishing so foolish a love. Nevertheless, she didnot try to overcome it, but resolved to force the Gorgio to her feet. Then she could spurn him if she had a mind to, as he had spurned her. But she well knew, and confessed it to herself with a sigh, that therewould be no spurning on her part, since her wayward love was strongerthan her pride. 

"Did the Gentile bring the gold, my sister?" asked a harsh voice, andshe raised her head to see Kara's hairy face bent to her ear. 

"No, brother. He goes to Lundra to get the gold. Did I not play my fishin fine style?"

"I took it for truth, sister!" said Kara, looking at her searchingly. 

Chaldea nodded wearily. "I am a great witch, as you can see. "

"You will be my romi when the gold chinks in our pockets?"

"Yes, for certain, brother. It's a true fortune!"

"Before our camp is changed, sister?" persisted the man greedily. 

"No; for to-morrow we may take the road, since the great lord orders usoff his land. And yet--" Chaldea stood up, suddenly recollecting whathad been said by Pine's wife. "Why should we leave?"

"The rabbit can't kick dust in the fox's face, sister, " said Kara, meaning that Garvington was too strong for the gypsies. 

"There are rabbits and rabbits, " said Chaldea sententiously. "Where isHearne, brother?"

"In Gentilla's tent with a Gorgious gentleman. He's trading a horse withthe swell rye, and wants no meddling with his time, sister. "

"I meddle now, " snapped Chaldea, and walked away in her usual free andgraceful manner. Kara shrugged his shoulders and then took refuge intalking to his violin, to which he related his doubts of the girl'struth. And he smiled grimly, as he thought of the recovered knife whichwas again snugly hidden under his weather-worn green coat. 

Chaldea, who did not stand on ceremony, walked to the end of the campwithout paying any attention to the excited gypsies, and flung back theflap of the old woman's tent. Mother Cockleshell was not within, as shehad given the use of her abode to Pine and his visitor. This latter wasa small, neat man with a smooth, boyish face and reddish hair. He hadthe innocent expression of a fox-terrier, and rather resembled one. Hewas neatly and inoffensively dressed in blue serge, and although he didnot look exactly like a gentleman, he would have passed for one in acrowd. When Chaldea made her abrupt entrance he was talking volubly toPine, and the millionaire addressed him--when he answered--as Silver. Chaldea, remembering the conversation she had overheard between Pine andMiss Greeby, speedily reached the conclusion that the neat little manwas the secretary referred to therein. Probably he had come to reportabout Lady Agnes. 

"What is it, sister?" demanded Pine sharply, and making a sign thatSilver should stop talking. 

"Does the camp travel to-morrow, brother?"

"Perhaps, yes, " retorted Pine abruptly. 

"And perhaps no, brother, if you use your power. "

Silver raised his faint eyebrows and looked questioningly at hisemployer, as if to ask what this cryptic sentence meant. Pine knew onlytoo well, since Chaldea had impressed him thoroughly with the fact thatshe had overheard many of his secrets. Therefore he did not waste timein argument, but nodded quietly. "Sleep in peace, sister. The camp shallstay, if you wish it. "

"I do wish it!" She glanced at Silver and changed her speech to Romany. "The ring will be here, " tapping her finger, "in one week if we stay. "

"So be it, sister, " replied Pine, also in Romany, and with a gleam ofsatisfaction in his dark eyes. "Go now and return when this Gentilegoes. What of the golden Gorgious one?"

"He seeks Lundra this night. "

"For the ring, sister?"

Chaldea looked hard at him. "For the ring" she said abruptly, thendropping the tent-flap which she had held all the time, she disappeared. 

Silver looked at his master inquiringly, and noted that he seemed verysatisfied. "What did she say in Romany?" he asked eagerly. 

"True news and new news, and news you never heard of, " mocked Pine. "Don't ask questions, Mark. "

"But since I am your secretary--"

"You are secretary to Hubert Pine, not to Ishmael Hearne, " broke in theother man. "And when Romany is spoken it concerns the last. "

Silver's pale-colored, red-rimmed eyes twinkled in an evil manner. "Youare afraid that I may learn too much about you. "

"You know all that is to be known, " retorted Pine sharply. "But I won'thave you meddle with my Romany business. A Gentile such as you arecannot understand the chals. "

"Try me. "

"There is no need. You are my secretary--my trusted secretary--that isquite enough. I pay you well to keep my secrets. "

"I don't keep them because you pay me, " said Silver quickly, and with alook of meekness belied by the sinister gleam in his pale bluish eyes. "It is devotion that makes me honest. I owe everything to you. "

"I think you do, " observed Pine quietly. "When I found you inWhitechapel you were only a pauper toymaker. "

"An inventor of toys, remember. You made your fortune out of myinventions. "

"The three clever toys you invented laid the foundations of my wealth, "corrected the millionaire calmly. "But I made my money in the SouthAfrican share business. And if I hadn't taken up your toys, you wouldhave been now struggling in Whitechapel, since there was no one but meto exploit your brains in the toy-making way. I have rescued you fromstarvation; I have made you my secretary, and pay you a good salary, andI have introduced you to good society. Yes, you do indeed owe everythingto me. Yet--" he paused. 

"Yet what?"

"Miss Greeby observed that those who have most cause to be grateful aregenerally the least thankful to those who befriend them. I am not surebut what she is right. "

Silver pushed up his lower lip contemptuously, and a derisive expressioncame over his clean-shaven face. "Does a clever man like you go to thatemancipated woman for experience?"

"Emancipated women are usually very clever, " said Pine dryly, "as theycombine the logic of the male with the intuition of the female. And Ihave observed myself, in many cases, that kindness brings outingratitude. "

Silver looked sullen and uneasy. "I don't know why you should talk to mein this strain, " he said irritably. "I appreciate what you have done forme, and have no reason to treat you badly. If I did--"

"I would break you, " flamed out his employer, angered by the merethought. "So long as you serve me well, Silver, I am your friend, and Ishall treat you as I have always done, with every consideration. But youplay any tricks on me, and--" he paused expressively. 

"Oh, I won't betray you, if that's what you mean. "

"I am quite sure you won't, " said the millionaire with emphasis. "For ifyou do, you return to your original poverty. And remember, Mark, thatthere is nothing in my life which has any need of concealment. "

Silver cast a look round the tent and at the rough clothes of thespeaker. "No need of any concealment?" he asked significantly. 

"Certainly not, " rejoined Pine violently. "I don't wish my gypsy originto be known in the Gentile world. But if the truth did come to light, there is nothing to be ashamed of. I commit no crime in calling myselfby a Gorgio name and in accumulating a fortune. You have no hold overme. " The man's look was so threatening that Silver winced. 

"I don't hint at any hold over you, " he observed mildly. "I am bound toyou both by gratitude and self-interest. "

"Aha. That last is better. It is just as well that we have come to thisunderstanding. If you--" Pine's speech was ended by a sharp fit ofcoughing, and Silver looked at his contortions with a thin-lipped smile. 

"You'll kill yourself if you live this damp colonial sort of tent-life, "was his observation. "Here, take a drink of water. "

Pine did so, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his rough coat. "You're a Gorgio, " he said, weakly, for the fit had shaken him, "andcan't understand how a bred and born Romany longs for the smell of thesmoke, the space of the open country, and the sound of the kalo jib. However, I did not ask you here to discuss these things, but to take myinstructions. "

"About Lady Agnes?" asked the secretary, his eyes scintillating. 

"You have had those long ago, although, trusting my wife as I do, therewas really no need for me to ask you to watch her. "

"That is very true. Lady Agnes is exceedingly circumspect. "

"Is she happy?"

Silver lifted his shoulders. "As happy as a woman can be who is marriedto one man while she loves another. "

He expected an outburst of anger from his employer, but none came. Onthe contrary, Pine sighed, restlessly. "Poor soul. I did her a wrong inmaking her my wife. She would have been happier with Lambert in hispoverty. "

"Probably! Her tastes don't lie like those of other women in thedirection of squandering money. By the way, I suppose, since you arehere, that you know Lambert is staying in the Abbot's Wood Cottage?"

"Yes, I know that. And what of it?" demanded the millionaire sharply. 

"Nothing; only I thought you would like to know. I fancied you had comehere to see if--"

"I did not. I can trust you to see that my wife and Lambert do not meetwithout spying myself. "

"If you love and trust your wife so entirely, I wonder you ask me to spyon her at all, " said Silver with a faint sneer. 

"She is a woman, and we gypsies have sufficient of the Oriental in us tomistrust even the most honest women. Lambert has not been to The Manor?"

"No. That's a bad sign. He can't trust himself in her presence. "

"I'll choke the life out of you, rat that you are, if you talk in such away about my wife. What you think doesn't matter. Hold your tongue, andcome to business. I asked you here to take my instructions. "

Silver was rather cowed by this outburst, as he was cunning enough toknow precisely how far he could venture with safety. "I am waiting, " heobserved in sullen tones. 

"Garvington--as I knew he would--has ordered us off the land. As thewood is really mine, since I hold it as security, having paid off themortgage, I don't choose that he should deal with it as though it werehis own. Here"--he passed along a letter--"I have written that on myoffice paper, and you will see that it says, I have heard how gypsiesare camping here, and that it is my wish they should remain. Garvingtonis not to order them off on any pretext whatsoever. You understand?"

"Yes. " Silver nodded, and slipped the paper into his breast pocket aftera hasty glance at the contents, which were those the writer had stated. "But if Garvington wishes to know why you take such an interest in thegypsies, what am I to say?"

"Say nothing. Simply do what I have told you. "

"Garvington may suspect that you are a Romany. "

"He won't. He thinks that I'm in Paris, and will never connect me withIshmael Hearne. If he asks questions when we meet I can tell him my owntale. By the way, why is he so anxious to get rid of the tribe?"

"There have been many burglaries lately in various parts of Hengishire, "explained the secretary. "And Garvington is afraid lest the gypsiesshould be mixed up with them. He thinks, this camp being near, some ofthe men may break into the house. "

"What nonsense! Gypsies steal, I don't deny, but in an open way. Theyare not burglars, however, and never will be. Garvington has never seenany near The Manor that he should take fright in this way. "

"I am not so sure of that. Once or twice I have seen that girl who cameto you hanging about the house. "

"Chaldea?" Pine started and looked earnestly at his companion. 

"Yes. She told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune one day when she met her in thepark, and also tried to make Lady Agnes cross her hand with silver forthe same purpose. Nothing came of that, however, as your wife refused tohave her fortune told. "

Pine frowned and looked uneasy, remembering that Chaldea knew of hisGentile masquerading. However, as he could see no reason to suspect thatthe girl had betrayed him, since she had nothing to gain by taking sucha course, he passed the particular incident over. "I must tell Chaldeanot to go near The Manor, " he muttered. 

"You will be wise; and tell the men also. Garvington has threatened toshoot any one who tries to enter his house. "

"Garvington's a little fool, " said Pine violently. "There is no chancethat the Romany will enter his house. He can set his silly mind atrest. "

"Well, you're warned, " said Silver with an elaborate pretence ofindifference. 

Pine looked up, growling. "What the devil do you mean, Mark? Do youthink that I intend to break in. Fool! A Romany isn't a thief of thatsort. "

"I fancied from tradition that they were thieves of all sorts, " retortedthe secretary coolly. "And suppose you took a fancy to come quietly andsee your wife?"

"I should never do that in this dress, " interrupted the millionaire in asharp tone. "My wife would then know my true name and birth. I wish tokeep that from her, although there is nothing disgraceful in the secret. I wonder why you say that?" he said, looking searchingly at the littleman. 

"Only because Lambert is in the--"

"Lambert! Lambert! You are always harping on Lambert. "

"I have your interest at heart. "

Pine laughed doubtfully. "I am not so sure of that. Self-interestrather. I trust my wife--"

"You do, since you make me spy on her, " said Silver caustically. 

"I trust my wife so far, " pursued the other man, "if you will permit meto finish my sentence. There is no need for her to see her cousin, and--as they have kept apart for so long--I don't think there is anychance of their seeking one another's company. "

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, " remarked the secretarysententiously. "And you may be living in a fool's paradise. Lambert iswithin running-away distance of her, remember. "

Pine laughed in a raucous manner. "An elopement would have taken placelong ago had it been intended, " he snapped tartly. "Don't imagineimpossibilities, Mark. Agnes married me for my money, so that I mightsave the credit of the Lambert family. But for me, Garvington would havepassed through the Bankruptcy Court long ago. I have paid off certainmortgages, but I hold them as security for my wife's good behavior. Sheknows that an elopement with her cousin would mean the ruin of herbrother. "

"You do, indeed, trust her, " observed Silver sarcastically. 

"I trust her so far and no further, " repeated Pine with an angry snarl. "A Gentile she is, and Gentiles are tricky. " He stretched out a slim, brown hand significantly and opened it. "I hold her and Garvingtonthere, " and he tapped the palm lightly. 

"You don't hold Lambert, and he is the dangerous one. "

"Only dangerous if Agnes consents to run away with him, and she won't dothat, " replied Pine coolly. 

"Well, she certainly doesn't care for money. "

"She cares for the credit of her family, and gave herself to me, so thatthe same might be saved. "

Silver shrugged his narrow shoulders. "What fools these aristocratsare, " he observed pleasantly. "Even if Garvington were sold up he wouldstill have his title and enough to live on in a quiet way. "

"Probably. But it was not entirely to save his estates that he agreed tomy marriage with his sister, " said Pine pointedly and quietly. 

"Eh! What?" The little man's foxy face became alive with eager inquiry. 

"Nothing, " said Pine roughly, and rose heavily to his feet. "Mind yourown infernal business, and mine also. Go back and show that letter toGarvington. I want my tribe to stay here. "

"_My_ tribe, " laughed Silver, scrambling to his feet; and when he tookhis departure he was still laughing. He wondered what Garvington wouldsay did he know that his sister was married to a full-blooded Romany. 

Pine, in the character of a horse-coper, saw him out of the camp, andwas staring after him when Chaldea, on the watch, touched his shoulder. 

"I come to your tent, brother, " she said with very bright eyes. 

"Eh? Yes!" Pine aroused himself out of a brown study. "Avali, miri pen. You have things to say to me?"

"Golden things, which have to do with your happiness and mine, brother. "

"Hai? A wedding-ring, sister. "

"Truly, brother, if you be a true Romany and not the Gentile you callyourself. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

AT MIDNIGHT. 

Silver's delivery of his employer's orders to Lord Garvington wereapparently carried out, for no further intimation was given to thegypsies that they were to vacate Abbot's Wood. The master of The Manorgrumbled a good deal at the high tone taken by his brother-in-law, as, having the instincts of a landlord, he strongly objected to the presenceof such riff-raff on his estates. However, as Pine had the whip-hand ofhim, he was obliged to yield, although he could not understand why theman should favor the Romany in this way. 

"Some of his infernal philanthropy, I suppose, " said Garvington, in atone of disgust, to the secretary. "Pine's always doing this sort ofthing, and people ain't a bit grateful. "

"Well, " said Silver dryly, "I suppose that's his look-out. "

"If it is, let him keep to his own side of the road, " retorted theother. "Since I don't interfere with his business, let him not meddlewith mine. "

"As he holds the mortgage and can foreclose at any moment, it _is_ hisbusiness, " insisted Silver tartly. "And, after all, the gypsies aredoing no very great harm. "

"They will if they get the chance. I'd string up the whole lot if I hadmy way, Silver. Poachers and blackguards every one of them. I know thatPine is always helping rotters in London, but I didn't know that he hadany cause to interfere with this lot. How did he come to know aboutthem?"

"Well, Mr. Lambert might have told him, " answered the secretary, notunwilling to draw that young man into the trouble. "He is at Abbot'sWood. "

"Yes, I lent him the cottage, and this is my reward. He meddles with mybusiness along with Pine. Why can't he shut his mouth?"

"I don't say that Mr. Lambert did tell him, but he might have done so. "

"I am quite sure that he did, " said Garvington emphatically, and growingred all over his chubby face. "Otherwise Pine would never have heard, since he is in Paris. I shall speak to Lambert. "

"You won't find him at home. I looked in at his cottage to pass thetime, and his housekeeper said that he had gone to London all of asudden, this very evening. "

"Oh, he'll turn up again, " said Garvington carelessly. "He's sick oftown, Silver, since--" The little man hesitated. 

"Since when?" asked the secretary curiously. 

"Never mind, " retorted the other gruffly, for he did not wish to mentionthe enforced marriage of his sister, to Silver. Of course, there was noneed to, as Garvington, aware that the neat, foxy-faced man was hisbrother-in-law's confidential adviser, felt sure that everything wasknown to him. "I'll leave those blamed gypsies alone meanwhile, "finished Garvington, changing and finishing the conversation. "But I'llspeak to Pine when I see him. "

"He returns from Paris in three weeks, " remarked Silver, at whichinformation the gross little lord simply hunched his fat shoulders. Muchas Pine had done for him, Garvington hated the man with all the power ofhis mean and narrow mind, and as the millionaire returned this dislikewith a feeling of profound contempt, the two met as seldom as possible. Only Lady Agnes was the link between them, the visible object of saleand barter, which had been sold by one to the other. 

It was about this time that the house-party at The Manor began to breakup; since it was now the first week in September, and many of theshooters wished to go north for better sport. Many of the men departed, and some of the women, who were due at other country houses; but Mrs. Belgrove and Miss Greeby still remained. The first because she foundherself extremely comfortable, and appreciated Garvington's cook; andthe second on account of Lambert being in the vicinity. Miss Greeby hadbeen very disappointed to learn that the young man had gone to London, but heard from Mrs. Tribb that he was expected back in three days. Shetherefore lingered so as to have another conversation with him, andmeanwhile haunted the gypsy camp for the purpose of keeping an eye onChaldea, who was much too beautiful for her peace of mind. SometimesSilver accompanied her, as the lady had given him to understand that sheknew Pine's real rank and name, so the two were made free of theBohemians and frequently chatted with Ishmael Hearne. But they kept hissecret, as did Chaldea; and Garvington had no idea that the man hedreaded and hated--who flung money to him as if he were tossing a boneto a dog--was within speaking distance. If he had known, he wouldassuredly have guessed the reason why Sir Hubert Pine had interestedhimself in the doings of a wandering tribe of undesirable creatures. 

A week passed away and still, although Miss Greeby made daily inquiries, Lambert did not put in an appearance at the forest cottage. Thinkingthat he had departed to escape her, she made up her impatient mind torepair to London, and to hunt him up at his club. With this idea sheintimated to Lady Garvington that she was leaving The Manor early nextmorning. The ladies had just left the dinner-table, and were havingcoffee in the drawing-room when Miss Greeby made this abruptannouncement. 

"Oh, my dear, " said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would changeyour mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quitedull. "

"Thanks ever so much, " remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly. She sat near thefire, for the evening was chilly, and what with paint and powder, andhair-dye, to say nothing of her artistic and carefully chosen dress, looked barely thirty-five in the rosy lights cast by the shaded lamps. 

"I don't mean you, dear, " murmured the hostess, who was even more untidyand helpless than usual. "You are quite a host in yourself. And thatrecipe you gave me for Patagonian soup kept Garvington in quite a goodhumor for ever so long. But the house will be dull for you withoutClara. "

"Agnes is here, Jane. "

"I fear Agnes is not much of an entertainer, " said that lady, smiling ina weary manner, for this society chatter bored her greatly. 

"That's not to be wondered at, " struck in Miss Greeby abruptly. "For ofcourse you are thinking of your husband. "

Lady Agnes colored slightly under Miss Greeby's very direct gaze, butreplied equably enough, to save appearances, "He is still in Paris. "

"When did you last hear from him, dear?" questioned Lady Garvington, more to manufacture conversation than because she really cared. 

"Only to-day I had a letter. He is carrying out some special businessand will return in two or three weeks. "

"You will be glad to see him, no doubt, " sneered Miss Greeby. 

"I am always glad to see my husband and to be with him, " answered LadyAgnes in a dignified manner. She knew perfectly well that Miss Greebyhated her, and guessed the reason, but she was not going to give her anysatisfaction by revealing the true feelings of her heart. 

"Well, I intend to stay here, Jane, if it's all the same to you, " criedMrs. Belgrove in her liveliest manner and with a side glance, taking inboth Miss Greeby and Lady Agnes. "Only this morning I received achit-chat letter from Mr. Lambert--we are great friends you know--sayingthat he intended to come here for a few days. Such a delightful man heis. "

"Oh, dear me, yes, " cried Lady Garvington, starting. "I remember. Hewrote yesterday from London, asking if he might come. I told him yes, although I mentioned that we had hardly anyone with us just now. "

Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw, for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastilyintimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on LadyAgnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wifeshielded it--presumably from the fire--with a large fan of whitefeathers. Had Mrs. Belgrove been able to read that countenance she wouldhave seen satisfaction written thereon, and would probably have set downthe expression to a wrong cause. In reality, Agnes was glad to thinkthat Lambert's promise was being kept, and that he no longer intended toavoid her company so openly. 

But if she was pleased, Miss Greeby was not, and still continued to lookannoyed, since she had burnt her boats by announcing her departure. Andwhat annoyed her still more than her hasty decision was, that she wouldleave Lambert in the house along with the rival she most dreaded. Thoughwhat the young man could see in this pale, washed-out creature MissGreeby could not imagine. She glanced at a near mirror and saw her ownopulent, full-blown looks clothed in a pale-blue dinner-gown, which wentso well--as she inartistically decided, with her ruddy locks, Mrs. Belgrove considered that Miss Greeby looked like a paint-box, or asunset, or one of Turner's most vivid pictures, but the heiress was verywell pleased with herself. Lady Agnes, in her favorite white, with herpale face and serious looks, was but a dull person of the nunpersuasion. And Miss Greeby did not think that Lambert cared for nuns, when he had an Amazonian intelligent pal--so she put it--at hand. But, of course, he might prefer dark beauties like Chaldea. Poor Miss Greeby;she was pursuing her wooing under very great difficulties, and becamesilent in order to think out some way of revoking in some naturalmanner the information of her departure. 

There were other women in the room, who joined in the conversation, andall were glad to hear that Mr. Lambert intended to pay a visit to hiscousin, for, indeed, the young man was a general favorite. And then astwo or three decided--Mrs. Belgrove amongst the number--there reallycould be nothing in the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else hewould scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she wasa washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as peoplehad thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor, especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of anEastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although thesewere not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandalthat said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the familyproperty. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man, who left her a great deal to her own devices--which he wouldn't havedone had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money tospend. And what more could a sensible woman want?

In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared intothe fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrivewithin the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagelyrebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Thenthe men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of thenight with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so andthe execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention, a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to whicheveryone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greebyproved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guestssojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that, tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulgedin amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by thishorse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirtin the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time wastaken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how toget through the long evening. 

"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy, " said Lady Garvington toher husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending toher guests. "I really think they find this jolly. "

"I don't care a red copper what they find, " retorted the little man, whowas looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lotwould get out of the house. I'm sick of them. "

"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich foryou. "

"Oh, the soup was all right--ripping soup, " snorted Freddy, smacking hislips over the recollection. "But I'm bothered over Pine. "

"He isn't ill, is he?" questioned Lady Garvington anxiously. She likedher brother-in-law, who was always kind to her. 

"No, hang him; nothing worse than his usual lung trouble, I suppose. Buthe is in Paris, and won't answer my letters. "

"Letters, Freddy dear. "

"Yes, Jane dear, " he mocked. "Hang it, I want money, and he won't stumpup. I can't even get an answer. "

"Speak to Mr. Silver. "

"Damn Mr. Silver!"

"Well, I'm sure, Frederick, you needn't swear at me, " said poor, wanLady Garvington, drawing herself up. "Mr. Silver is very kind. He wentto that gypsy camp and found out how they cook hedgehog. That will be anew dish for you, dear. You haven't eaten hedgehog. "

"No. And what's more, I don't intend to eat it. But you may as well tellme how these gypsies cook it, " and Freddy listened with both his redears to the description, on hearing which he decided that his wifemight instruct the cook how to prepare the animal. "But no one will eatit but me. "

Lady Garvington shuddered. "I shan't touch it myself. Those horridsnails you insisted on being cooked a week ago made me quite ill. Youare always trying new experiments, Freddy. "

"Because I get so tired of every-day dishes, " growled Lord Garvington. "These cooks have no invention. I wish I'd lived in Rome when they hadthose banquets you read of in Gibbon. "

"Did he write a book on cookery?" asked Lady Garvington very naturally. 

"No. He turned out a lot of dull stuff about wars and migrations oftribes: you are silly, Jane. "

"What's that about migration of tribes?" asked Mrs. Belgrove, who was ina good humor, as she had won largely at bridge. "You don't mean thosedear gypsies at Abbot's Wood do you, Lord Garvington? I met one of themthe other day--quite a girl and very pretty in a dark way. She told myfortune, and said that I would come in for a lot of money. I'm sure Ihope so, " sighed Mrs. Belgrove. "Celestine is so expensive, but no onecan fit me like she can. And she knows it, and takes advantage, thehorrid creature. "

"I wish the tribe of gypsies would clear out, " snapped Freddy, standingbefore the fire and glaring at the company generally. "I know they'llbreak in here and rob. "

"Well, " drawled Silver, who was hovering near, dressed so carefully thathe looked more of a foxy, neat bounder than ever. "I have noticed thatsome of the brutes have been sneaking round the place. "

Mrs. Belgrove shrieked. "Oh, how lucky I occupy a bedroom on the thirdfloor. Just like a little bird in its tiny-weeny nest. They can't get atme there, can they, Lord Garvington?"

"They don't want you, " observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It'syour diamonds they'd like to get. "

"Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strongroom, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me, " and sheeffusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamondsglittered. 

"I don't think there is likely to be any trouble with these poorgypsies, Mrs. Belgrove, " remarked Lady Agnes negligently. "Hubert hastold me a great deal about them, and they are really not so bad aspeople make out. "

"Your husband can't know anything of such ragtags, " said Miss Greeby, looking at the beautiful, pale face, and wondering if she really had anysuspicion that Pine was one of the crew she mentioned. 

"Oh, but Hubert does, " answered Lady Agnes innocently. "He has met manyof them when he has been out helping people. You have no idea, any ofyou, how good Hubert is, " she added, addressing the company generally. "He walks on the Embankment sometimes on winter nights and gives thepoor creatures money. And in the country I have often seen him stop tohand a shilling to some tramp in the lanes. "

"A gypsy for choice, " growled Miss Greeby, marvelling that Lady Agnescould not see the resemblance between the tramps' faces and that of herown husband. "However, I hope Pine's darlings won't come here to rob. I'll fight for my jewels, I can promise you. "

One of the men laughed. "I shouldn't like to get a blow from your fist. "

Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature. "Women haveto protect themselves from men like you, " she said, amidst greatlaughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quiteamusing. 

"It's all very well talking, " said Garvington crossly. "But I don'ttrust these gypsies. "

"Why don't you clear them off your land then?" asked Silver daringly. 

Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his redface. "I'll clear everyone to bed, that's what I'll do, " he retorted, crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room. "Iwish you fellows would stop your larking out there, " he cried. "It'sclose upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed. "

"Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?" asked anofficer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to passthe night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn. 

Lady Agnes frowned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss Ardale, " shesaid in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, whileGarvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters. 

"Going to stand a siege?" asked Miss Greeby, laughing. "Or do you expectburglars, particularly on this night. "

"I don't expect them at all, " retorted the little man. "But I tell you Ihate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place. Still, if anyonecomes, " he added grimly, "I shall shoot. "

"Then the attacking person or party needn't bother, " cried the officer. "I shouldn't mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington. "

With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host's expense, theguests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another'sdressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink. Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house, carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe. Hissister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as muchto her hostess. 

"It wouldn't matter if the gypsies did break in, " she said when alonewith Lady Garvington in her own bedroom. "It would be some excitement, for all these people must find it very dull here. "

"I'm sure I do my best, Agnes, " said the sister-in-law plaintively. 

"Of course, you do, you poor dear, " said the other, kissing her. "ButGarvington always asks people here who haven't two ideas. A horrid, rowdy lot they are. I wonder you stand it. "

"Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes. "

"I see. He hasn't any brains, and his guests suit him for the samereason. "

"They eat a great deal, " wailed Lady Garvington. "I'm sure I might aswell be a cook. All my time is taken up with feeding them. "

"Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for lookingafter food. Your mother was much the same; she always kept a goodtable. " Lady Agnes laughed. "Yours was a most original wooing, Jane. "

"I'd like to live on bread and water for my part, Agnes. "

"Put Freddy on it, dear. He's getting too stout. I never thought thatgluttony was a crime. But when I look at Freddy"--checking her speech, she spread out her hands with an ineffable look--"I'm glad that Noel iscoming, " she ended, rather daringly. "At least he will be moreinteresting than any of these frivolous people you have collected. "

Lady Garvington looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind Noel coming?"

"No, dear. Why should I?"

"Well you see, Agnes, I fancied--"

"Don't fancy anything. Noel and I entirely understand one another. "

"I hope, " blurted out the other woman, "that it is a rightunderstanding?"

Agnes winced, and looked at her with enforced composure. "I am devotedto my husband, " she said, with emphasis. "And I have every reason to be. He has kept his part of the bargain, so I keep mine. But, " she addedwith a pale smile, "when I think how I sold myself to keep up the creditof the family, and now see Freddy entertaining this riff-raff, I amsorry that I did not marry Noel, whom I loved so dearly. "

"That would have meant our ruin, " bleated Lady Garvington, sadly. 

"Your ruin is only delayed, Jane. Freddy is a weak, self-indulgent fool, and is eating his way into the next world. It will be a happy day foryou when an apoplectic fit makes you a widow. "

"My dear, " the wife was shocked, "he is your brother. "

"More's the pity. I have no illusions about Freddy, Jane, and I don'tthink you have either. Now, go away and sleep. It's no use lying awakethinking over to-morrow's dinner. Give Freddy the bread and water youtalked about. "

Lady Garvington laughed in a weak, aimless way, and then kissed hersister-in-law with a sigh, after which she drifted out of the room inher usual vague manner. Very shortly the clock over the stables struckmidnight, and by that time Garvington the virtuous had induced all hismen guests to go to bed. The women chatted a little longer, and then, intheir turn, sought repose. By half-past twelve the great house was incomplete darkness, and bulked a mighty mass of darkness in the paleSeptember moonlight. 

Lady Agnes got to bed quickly, and tired out by the boredom of theevening, quickly fell asleep. Suddenly she awoke with all her senses onthe alert, and with a sense of vague danger hovering round. There weresounds of running feet and indistinct oaths and distant cries, and shecould have sworn that a pistol-shot had startled her from slumber. In amoment she was out of bed and ran to open her window. On looking outshe saw that the moonlight was very brilliant, and in it beheld a tallman running swiftly from the house. He sped down the broad path, andjust when he was abreast of a miniature shrubbery, she heard a secondshot, which seemed to be fired there-from. The man staggered, andstumbled and fell. Immediately afterwards, her brother--she recognizedhis voice raised in anger--ran out of the house, followed by some of themale guests. Terrified by the sight and the sound of the shots, LadyAgnes huddled on her dressing-gown hastily, and thrust her bare feetinto slippers. The next moment she was out of her bedroom and down thestairs. A wild idea had entered her mind that perhaps Lambert had comesecretly to The Manor, and had been shot by Garvington in mistake for aburglar. The corridors and the hall were filled with guests more or lesslightly attired, mostly women, white-faced and startled. Agnes paid noattention to their shrieks, but hurried into the side passage whichterminated at the door out of which her brother had left the house. Shewent outside also and made for the group round the fallen man. 

"What is it? who is it?" she asked, gasping with the hurry and thefright. 

"Go back, Agnes, go back, " cried Garvington, looking up with a distortedface, strangely pale in the moonlight. 

"But who is it? who has been killed?" She caught sight of the fallenman's countenance and shrieked. "Great heavens! it is Hubert; is hedead?"

"Yes, " said Silver, who stood at her elbow. "Shot through the heart. "

CHAPTER IX. 

AFTERWARDS. 

With amazing and sinister rapidity the news spread that a burglar hadbeen shot dead while trying to raid The Manor. First, the Garvingtonvillagers learned it; then it became the common property of theneighborhood, until it finally reached the nearest county town, and thusbrought the police on the scene. Lord Garvington was not pleased whenthe local inspector arrived, and intimated as much in a somewhatunpleasant fashion. He was never a man who spared those in an inferiorsocial position. 

"It is no use your coming over, Darby, " he said bluntly to thered-haired police officer, who was of Irish extraction. "I have sent toScotland Yard. "

"All in good time, my lord, " replied the inspector coolly. "As themurder has taken place in my district I have to look into the matter, and report to the London authorities, if it should be necessary. "

"What right have you to class the affair as a murder?" inquiredGarvington. 

"I only go by the rumors I have heard, my lord. Some say that you wingedthe man and broke his right arm. Others tell me that a second shot wasfired in the garden, and it was that which killed Ishmael Hearne. "

"It is true, Darby. I only fired the first shot, as those who were withme will tell you. I don't know who shot in the garden, and apparently noone else does. It was this unknown individual in the garden that killedHearne. By the way, how did you come to hear the name?"

"Half a dozen people have told me, my lord, along with the information Ihave just given you. Nothing else is talked of far and wide. "

"And it is just twelve o'clock, " muttered the stout little lord, wipinghis scarlet face pettishly. "Ill news travels fast. However, as you arehere, you may as well take charge of things until the London menarrive. "

"The London men aren't going to usurp my privileges, my lord, " saidDarby, firmly. "There's no sense in taking matters out of my hands. Andif you will pardon my saying so, I should have been sent for in thefirst instance. "

"I daresay, " snapped Garvington, coolly. "But the matter is tooimportant to be left in the hands of a local policeman. "

Darby was nettled, and his hard eyes grew angry. "I am quite competentto deal with any murder, even if it is that of the highest in England, much less with the death of a common gypsy. "

"That's just where it is, Darby. The common gypsy who has been shothappens to be my brother-in-law. "

"Sir Hubert Pine?" questioned the inspector, thoroughly taken aback. 

"Yes! Of course I didn't know him when I fired, or I should not havedone so, Darby. I understood, and his wife, my sister, understood, thatSir Hubert was in Paris. It passes my comprehension to guess why heshould have come in the dead of night, dressed as a gypsy, to raid myhouse. "

"Perhaps it was a bet, " said Darby, desperately puzzled. 

"Bet, be hanged! Pine could come openly to this place whenever he liked. I never was so astonished in my life as when I saw him lying dead nearthe shrubbery. And the worst of it is, that my sister ran out and sawhim also. She fainted and has been in bed ever since, attended by LadyGarvington. "

"You had no idea that the man you shot was Sir Hubert, my lord?"

"Hang it, no! Would I have shot him had I guessed who he was?"

"No, no, my lord! of course not, " said the officer hastily. "But asI have come to take charge of the case, you will give me a detailedaccount of what has taken place. "

"I would rather wait until the Scotland Yard fellows come, " grumbledGarvington, "as I don't wish to repeat my story twice. Still, as you areon the spot, I may as well ask your advice. You may be able to throwsome light on the subject. I'm hanged if I can. "

Darby pulled out his notebook. "I am all attention, my lord. "

Garvington plunged abruptly into his account, first having looked to seeif the library door was firmly closed. "As there have been manyburglaries lately in this part of the world, " he said, speaking withdeliberation, "I got an idea into my head that this house might bebroken into. "

"Natural enough, my lord, " interposed Darby, glancing round the splendidroom. "A historic house such as this is, would tempt any burglar. "

"So I thought, " remarked the other, pleased that Darby should agree withhim so promptly. "And I declared several times, within the hearing ofmany people, that if a raid was made, I should shoot the first man whotried to enter. Hang it, an Englishman's house is his castle, and no manhas a right to come in without permission. "

"Quite so, my lord. But the punishment of the burglar should be left tothe law, " said the inspector softly. 

"Oh, the deuce take the law! I prefer to execute my own punishments. However, to make a long story short, I grew more afraid of a raid whenthese gypsies came to camp at Abbot's Wood, as they are just the sort ofscoundrels who would break in and steal. "

"Why didn't you order them off your land?" asked the policeman, alertly. 

"I did, and then my brother-in-law sent a message through his secretary, who is staying here, asking me to allow them to remain. I did. "

"Why did Sir Hubert send that message, my lord?"

"Hang it, man, that's just what I am trying to learn, and I am the morepuzzled because he came last night dressed as a gypsy. "

"He must be one, " said Darby, who had seen Pine and now recalled hisdark complexion and jetty eyes. "It seems, from what I have been told, that he stopped at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of IshmaelHearne. "

"So Silver informed me. "

"Who is he?"

"Pine's secretary, who knows all his confidential affairs. Silverdeclared, when the secret could be kept no longer, that Pine was reallya gypsy, called Ishmael Hearne. Occasionally longing for the old life, he stepped down from his millionaire pedestal and mixed with his ownpeople. When he was supposed to be in Paris, he was really with thegypsies, so you can now understand why he sent the message asking me tolet these vagrants stay. "

"You told me a few moments ago, that you could not understand thatmessage, my lord, " said Darby quickly, and looking searchingly at theother man. Garvington grew a trifle confused. "Did I? Well, to tell youthe truth, Darby, I'm so mixed up over the business that I can't saywhat I do know, or what I don't know. You'd better take all I tell youwith a grain of salt until I am quite myself again. "

"Natural enough, my lord, " remarked the inspector again, and quitebelieved what he said. "And the details of the murder?"

"I went to bed as usual, " said Garvington, wearily, for the events ofthe night had tired him out, "and everyone else retired some time aboutmidnight. I went round with the footmen and the butler to see thateverything was safe, for I was too anxious to let them look after thingswithout me. Then I heard a noise of footsteps on the gravel outside, just as I was dropping off to sleep--"

"About what time was that, my lord?"

"Half-past one o'clock; I can't be certain as to a minute. I jumped upand laid hold of my revolver, which was handy. I always kept it besideme in case of a burglary. Then I stole downstairs in slippers andpajamas to the passage, --oh, here. " Garvington rose quickly. "Come withme and see the place for yourself!"

Inspector Darby put on his cap, and with his notebook still in his hand, followed the stout figure of his guide. Garvington led him through theentrance hall and into a side-passage, which terminated in a narrowdoor. There was no one to spy on them, as the master of the house hadsent all the servants to their own quarters, and the guests werecollected in the drawing-room and smoking-room, although a few of theladies remained in their bedrooms, trying to recover from the night'sexperience. 

"I came down here, " said Garvington, opening the door, "and heard theburglar, as I thought he was, prowling about on the other side. I threwopen the door in this way and the man plunged forward to enter. I fired, and got him in the right arm, for I saw it swinging uselessly by hisside as he departed. "

"Was he in a hurry?" asked Darby, rather needlessly. 

"He went off like greased lightning. I didn't follow, as I thought thatothers of his gang might be about, but closing the door again I shoutedblue murder. In a few minutes everyone came down, and while I waswaiting--it all passed in a flash, remember, Darby--I heard a secondshot. Then the servants and my friends came and we ran out, to find theman lying by that shrubbery quite dead. I turned him over and had justgrasped the fact that he was my brother-in-law, when Lady Agnes ran out. When she learned the news she naturally fainted. The women carried herback to her room, and we took the body of Pine into the house. A doctorcame along this morning--for I sent for a doctor as soon as it wasdawn--and said that Pine had been shot through the heart. "

"And who shot him?" asked Darby sagely. 

Garvington pointed to the shrubbery. "Someone was concealed there, " hedeclared. 

"How do you know, that, my lord?"

"My sister, attracted by my shot, jumped out of bed and threw up herwindow. She saw the man--of course she never guessed that he wasPine--running down the path and saw him fall by the shrubbery when thesecond shot was fired. "

"Her bedroom is then on this side of the house, my lord?"

"Up there, " said Garvington, pointing directly over the narrow door, which was painted a rich blue color, and looked rather bizarre, set inthe puritanic greyness of the walls. "My own bedroom is further alongtowards the right. That is why I heard the footsteps so plainly on thisgravel. " And he stamped hard, while with a wave of his hand he invitedthe inspector to examine the surroundings. 

Darby did so with keen eyes and an alert brain. The two stood on thewest side of the mansion, where it fronted the three-miles distantAbbot's Wood. The Manor was a heterogeneous-looking sort of place, suggesting the whims and fancies of many generations, for something wastaken away here, and something was taken away there, and this had beenaltered, while that had been left in its original state, until the houseseemed to be made up of all possible architectural styles. It was a tallbuilding of three stories, although the flattish red-tiled roofs tookaway somewhat from its height, and spread over an amazing quantity ofland. As Darby thought, it could have housed a regiment, and must havecost something to keep up. As wind and weather and time had mellowed itsincongruous parts into one neutral tint, it looked odd and attractive. Moss and lichen, ivy and Virginia creeper--this last flaring in crimsonglory--clothed the massive stone walls with a gracious mantle of naturalbeauty. Narrow stone steps, rather chipped, led down from the blue doorto the broad, yellow path, which came round the rear of the house andswept down hill in a wide curve, past the miniature shrubbery, rightinto the bosom of the park. 

"This path, " explained Garvington, stamping again, "runs right throughthe park to a small wicket gate set in the brick wall, which borders thehigh road, Darby. "

"And that runs straightly past Abbot's Wood, " mused the inspector. "Ofcourse, Sir Hubert would know of the path and the wicket gate?"

"Certainly; don't be an ass, Darby, " cried Garvington petulantly. "Hehas been in this house dozens of times and knows it as well as I domyself. Why do you ask so obvious a question?"

"I was only wondering if Sir Hubert came by the high road to the wicketgate you speak of, Lord Garvington. "

"That also is obvious, " retorted the other, irritably. "Since he wishedto come here, he naturally would take the easiest way. "

"Then why did he not enter by the main avenue gates?"

"Because at that hour they would be shut, and--since it is evident thathis visit was a secret one--he would have had to knock up thelodge-keeper. "

"Why was his visit a secret one?" questioned Darby pointedly. 

"That is the thing that puzzles me. Anything more?"

"Yes? Why should Sir Hubert come to the blue door?"

"I can't answer that question, either. The whole reason of his beinghere, instead of in Paris, is a mystery to me. "

"Oh, as to that last, the reply is easy, " remarked the inspector. "SirHubert wished to revert to his free gypsy life, and pretended to be inParis, so that he would follow his fancy without the truth becomingknown. But why he should come on this particular night, and by thisparticular path to this particular door, is the problem I have tosolve!"

"Quite so, and I only hope that you will solve it, for the sake of mysister. "

Darby reflected for a moment or so. "Did Lady Agnes ask her husband tocome here to see her privately?"

"Hang it, no man!" cried Garvington, aghast. "She believed, as we alldid, that her husband was in Paris, and certainly never dreamed that hewas masquerading as a gypsy three miles away. "

"There was no masquerading about the matter, my lord, " said Darby, dryly; "since Sir Hubert really was a gypsy called Ishmael Hearne. Thatfact will come out at the inquest. "

"It has come out now: everyone knows the truth. And a nice thing it isfor me and Lady Agnes. "

"I don't think you need worry about that, Lord Garvington. The honorableway in which the late Sir Hubert attained rank and gained wealth willreflect credit on his humble origin. When the papers learn the story--"

"Confound the papers!" interrupted Garvington fretfully. "I sincerelyhope that they won't make too great a fuss over the business. "

The little man's hope was vain, as he might have guessed that it wouldbe, for when the news became known in Fleet Street, the newspapers wereonly too glad to discover an original sensation for the dead season. Every day journalists and special correspondents were sent down in suchnumbers that the platform of Wanbury Railway Station was crowded withthem. As the town--it was the chief town of Hengishire--was five milesaway from the village of Garvington, every possible kind of vehicle wasused to reach the scene of the crime, and The Manor became a rendezvousfor all the morbid people, both in the neighborhood and out of it. Thereporters in particular poked and pried all over the place, passing fromthe great house to the village, and thence to the gypsy camp on theborders of Abbot's Wood. From one person and another they learned facts, which were published with such fanciful additions that they read likefiction. On the authority of Mother Cockleshell--who was not averse toearning a few shillings--a kind of Gil Blas tale was put into print, andthe wanderings of Ishmael Hearne were set forth in the picturesque styleof a picarooning romance. But of the time when the adventurous gypsyassumed his Gentile name, the Romany could tell nothing, for obviousreasons. Until the truth became known, because of the man's tragic andunforeseen death, those in the camp were not aware that he was a Gorgiomillionaire. But where the story of Mother Cockleshell left off, that ofMark Silver began, for the secretary had been connected with hisemployer almost from the days of Hearne's first exploits as Pine inLondon. And Silver--who also charged for the blended fact and fictionwhich he supplied--freely related all he knew. 

"Hearne came to London and called himself Hubert Pine, " he statedfrankly, and not hesitating to confess his own lowly origin. "We metwhen I was starving as a toymaker in Whitechapel. I invented some pennytoys, which Pine put on the market for me. They were successful and hemade money. I am bound to confess that he paid me tolerably well, although he certainly took the lion's share. With the money he made inthis way, he speculated in South African shares, and, as the boom wasthen on, he simply coined gold. Everything he touched turned into cash, and however deeply he plunged into the money market, he always came outtop in the end. By turning over his money and re-investing it, and byfresh speculations, he became a millionaire in a wonderfully short spaceof time. Then he made me his secretary and afterwards took up politics. The Government gave him a knighthood for services rendered to his party, and he became a well-known figure in the world of finance. He marriedLady Agnes Lambert, and--and--that's all. "

"You were aware that he was a gypsy, Mr. Silver?" asked the reporter. 

"Oh, yes. I knew all about his origin from the first days of ouracquaintanceship. He asked me to keep his true name and rank secret. Asit was none of my business, I did so. At times Hearne--or rather Pine, as I know him best by that name--grew weary of civilization, and thenwould return to his own life of the tent and road. No one suspectedamongst the Romany that he was anything else but a horse-coper. Healways pretended to be in Paris, or Berlin, on financial affairs, whenhe went back to his people, and I transacted all business during hisabsence. "

"You knew that he was at the Abbot's Wood camp?"

"Certainly. I saw him there once or twice to receive instructions aboutbusiness. I expostulated with him for being so near the house where hisbrother-in-law and wife were living, as I pointed out that the truthmight easily become known. But Pine merely said that his safety inkeeping his secret lay in his daring to run the risk. "

"Have you any idea that Sir Hubert intended to come by night to LordGarvington's house?"

"Not the slightest. In fact, I told him that Lord Garvington was afraidof burglars, and had threatened to shoot any man who tried to enter thehouse. "

All this Silver said in a perfectly frank, free-and-easy manner, andalso related how the dead man had instructed him to ask Garvington toallow the gypsies to remain in the wood. The reporter published theinterview with sundry comments of his own, and it was read with greatavidity by the public at large and by the many friends of themillionaire, who were surprised to learn of the double life led by theman. Of course, there was nothing disgraceful in Pine's past as IshmaelHearne, and all attempts to discover something shady about hisantecedents were vain. Yet--as was pointed out--there must have beensomething wrong, else the adventurer, as he plainly was, would not havemet so terrible a death. But in spite of every one's desire to find fireto account for the smoke, nothing to Pine's disadvantage could belearned. Even at the inquest, and when the matter was thoroughlythreshed out, the dead man's character proved to be honorable, and--savein the innocent concealment of his real name and origin--his public andprivate life was all that could be desired. The whole story was notcriminal, but truly romantic, and the final tragedy gave a grim touch towhat was regarded, even by the most censorious, as a picturesquenarrative. 

In spite of all his efforts, Inspector Darby, of Wanbury, could produceno evidence likely to show who had shot the deceased. Lord Garvington, under the natural impression that Pine was a burglar, had certainlywounded him in the right arm, but it was the second shot, fired by someone outside the house, which had pierced the heart. This was positivelyproved by the distinct evidence of Lady Agnes herself. She rose from hersick-bed to depose how she had opened her window, and had seen theactual death of the unfortunate man, whom she little guessed was herhusband. The burglar--as she reasonably took him to be--was running downthe path when she first caught sight of him, and after the first shothad been fired. It was the second shot, which came from theshrubbery--marked on the plan placed before the Coroner and jury--whichhad laid the fugitive low. Also various guests and servants stated thatthey had arrived in the passage in answer to Lord Garvington's outcries, to find that he had closed the door pending their coming. Some had evenheard the second shot while descending the stairs. It was proved, therefore, in a very positive manner, that the master of the house hadnot murdered the supposed robber. 

"I never intended to kill him, " declared Garvington when his evidencewas taken. "All I intended to do, and all I did do, was to wing him, sothat he might be captured on the spot, or traced later. I closed thedoor after firing the shot, as I fancied that he might have had someaccomplices with him, and I wished to make myself safe until assistancearrived. "

"You had no idea that the man was Sir Hubert Pine?" asked a juryman. 

"Certainly not. I should not have fired had I recognized him. The momentI opened the door he flung himself upon me. I fired and he ran away. Itwas not until we all went out and found him dead by the shrubbery thatI recognized my brother-in-law. I thought he was in Paris. "

Inspector Darby deposed that he had examined the shrubbery, and hadnoted broken twigs here and there, which showed that some one must havebeen concealed behind the screen of laurels. The grass--somewhat long inthe thicket--had been trampled. But nothing had been discovered likelyto lead to the discovery of the assassin who had been ambushed in thismanner. 

"Are there no footmarks?" questioned the Coroner. 

"There has been no rain for weeks to soften the ground, " explained thewitness, "therefore it is impossible to discover any footmarks. Thebroken twigs and trampled grass show that some one was hidden in theshrubbery, but when this person left the screen of laurels, there isnothing to show in which direction the escape was made. "

And indeed all the evidence was useless to trace the criminal. The Manorhad been bolted and barred by Lord Garvington himself, along with somefootmen and his butler, so no one within could have fired the secondshot. The evidence of Mother Cockleshell, of Chaldea, and of variousother gypsies, went to show that no one had left the camp on that nightwith the exception of Hearne, and even his absence had not been madeknown until the fact of the death was made public next morning. Hearne, as several of the gypsies stated, had retired about eleven to his tentand had said nothing about going to The Manor, much less about leavingthe camp. Silver's statements revealed nothing, since, far from seekinghis brother-in-law's house, Pine, had pointedly declared that in orderto keep his secret he would be careful not to go near the place. 

"And Pine had no enemies to my knowledge who desired his death, "declared the secretary. "We were so intimate that had his life been indanger he certainly would have spoken about it to me. "

"You can throw no light on the darkness?" asked the Coroner hopelessly. 

"None, " said the witness. "Nor, so far as I can see, is any one elseable to throw any light on the subject. Pine's secret was not adishonorable one, as he was such an upright man that no one could havedesired to kill him. "

Apparently there was no solution to the mystery, as every one concluded, when the evidence was fully threshed out. An open verdict was broughtin, and the proceedings ended in this unsatisfactory manner. 

"Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown, " said Lambert, when he read the report of the inquest in his St. James's Street rooms. "Strange. I wonder who cut the Gordian knot of the rope which boundAgnes to Pine?"

He could find no reply to this question, nor could any one else. 

CHAPTER X. 

A DIFFICULT POSITION. 

Lord Garvington was not a creditable member of the aristocracy, sincehis vices greatly exceeded his virtues. With a weak nature, and thetastes of a sybarite, he required a great deal of money to render himhappy. Like the immortal Becky Sharp, he could have been fairly honestif possessed of a large income; but not having it he stopped short ofnothing save actual criminality in order to indulge his luxurioustastes to the full. Candidly speaking, he had already overstepped themark when he altered the figures of a check his brother-in-law had givenhim, and, had not Pine been so generous, he would have undoubtedlyoccupied an extremely unpleasant position. However, thanks to Agnes, theaffair had been hushed up, and with characteristic promptitude, Garvington had conveniently forgotten how nearly he had escaped the irongrip of Justice. In fact, so entirely did it slip his memory that--onthe plea of Pine's newly discovered origin--he did not desire the bodyto be placed in the family vault. But the widow wished to pay this honorto her husband's remains, and finally got her own way in the matter, forthe simple reason that now she was the owner of Pine's millionsGarvington did not wish to offend her. But, as such a mean creaturewould, he made capital out of the concession. 

"Since I do this for you, Agnes, " he said bluntly, when the question wasbeing decided, "you must do something for me. "

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Ah--hum--hey--ho!" gurgled Garvington, thinking cunningly that it wastoo early yet to exploit her. "We can talk about it when the will hasbeen read, and we know exactly how we stand. Besides your grief issacred to me, my dear. Shut yourself up and cry. "

Agnes had a sense of humor, and the blatant hypocrisy of the speech madeher laugh outright in spite of the genuine regret she felt for herhusband's tragic death. Garvington was quite shocked. "Do you forgetthat the body is yet in the house?" he asked with heavy solemnity. 

"I don't forget anything, " retorted Agnes, becoming scornfully serious. "Not even that you count on me to settle your wretched financialdifficulties out of poor Hubert's money. "

"Of course you will, my dear. You are a Lambert. "

"Undoubtedly; but I am not necessarily a fool. "

"Oh, I can't stop and hear you call yourself such a name, " saidGarvington, ostentatiously dense to her true meaning. "It is hysteriathat speaks, and not my dear sister. Very natural when you are sogrieved. We are all mortal. "

"You are certainly silly in addition, " replied the widow, who knew howuseless it was to argue with the man. "Go away and don't worry me. Whenpoor Hubert is buried, and the will is read, I shall announce myintentions. "

"Intentions! Intentions!" muttered the corpulent little lord, taking ahasty departure out of diplomacy. "Surely, Agnes won't be such a fool asto let the family estates go. "

It never struck him that Pine might have so worded the will that theinheritance he counted upon might not come to the widow, unless shechose to fulfil a certain condition. But then he never guessed thejealousy with which the hot-blooded gypsy had regarded the earlyengagement of Agnes and Lambert. If he had done so, he assuredly wouldnot have invited the young man down to the funeral. But he did so, andtalked about doing so, with a frequent mention that the body was to restin the sacred vault of the Lamberts so that every one should applaud hisgenerous humility. 

"Poor Pine was only a gypsy, " said Garvington, on all and everyoccasion. "But I esteemed him as a good and honest man. He shall haveevery honor shown to his memory. Noel and I, as representatives of hiswife, my dear sister, shall follow him to the Lambert vault, and there, with my ancestors, the body of this honorable, though humble, man shallrest until the Day of Judgment. "

A cynic in London laughed when the speech was reported to him. "IfGarvington is buried in the same vault, " he said contemptuously, "hewill ask Pine for money, as soon as they rise to attend the GreatAssizes!" which bitter remark showed that the little man could notinduce people to believe him so disinterested as he should have likedthem to consider him. 

However, in pursuance of this artful policy, he certainly gave the deadman, what the landlady of the village inn called, "a dressy funeral. "All that could be done in the way of pomp and ceremony was done, and theprocession which followed Ishmael Hearne to the grave was anextraordinarily long one. The villagers came because, like all the lowerorders, they loved the excitement of an interment; the gypsies from thecamp followed, since the deceased was of their blood; and many people infinancial and social circles came down from London for the obviousreason that Pine was a well-known figure in the City and the West End, and also a member of Parliament. As for Lambert, he put in anappearance, in response to his cousin's invitation, unwillingly enough, but in order to convince Agnes that he had every desire to obey hercommands. People could scarcely think that Pine had been jealous of theearly engagement to Agnes, when her former lover attended the funeral ofa successful rival. 

Of course, the house party at The Manor had broken up immediately afterthe inquest. It would have disintegrated before only that InspectorDarby insisted that every one should remain for examination inconnection with the late tragical occurrence. But in spite ofquestioning and cross-questioning, nothing had been learned likely toshow who had murdered the millionaire. There was a great deal of talkafter the body had been placed in the Lambert vault, and there was moretalk in the newspapers when an account was given of the funeral. Butneither by word of mouth, nor in print, was any suggestion made likelyto afford the slightest clue to the name or the whereabouts of theassassin. Having regard to Pine's romantic career, it was thought bysome that the act was one of revenge by a gypsy jealous that the manshould attain to such affluence, while others hinted that the motivefor the crime was to be found in connection with the millionaire'scareer as a Gentile. Gradually, as all conjecture proved futile, thegossip died away, and other events usurped the interest of the public. Pine, who was really Hearne, had been murdered and buried; his assassinwould never be discovered, since the trail was too well hidden; and LadyAgnes inherited at least two millions on which she would probably marryher cousin and so restore the tarnished splendors of the Lambert family. In this way the situation was summed up by the gossips, and then theybegan to talk of something else. The tragedy was only a nine minutes'wonder after all. 

The gossips both in town and country were certainly right in assumingthat the widow inherited the vast property of her deceased husband. Butwhat they did not know was that a condition attached to such inheritanceirritated Agnes and caused Garvington unfeigned alarm. Pine'ssolicitor--he was called Jarwin and came from a stuffy little office inChancery Lane--called Garvington aside, when the mourners returned fromthe funeral, and asked that the reading of the will might be confined toa few people whom he named. 

"There is a condition laid down by the testator which need not be madepublic, " said Mr. Jarwin blandly. "A proposition which, if possible, must be kept out of print. "

Garvington, with a sudden recollection of his iniquity in connectionwith the falsified check, did not dare to ask questions, but hastilysummoned the people named by the lawyer. As these were the widow, LadyGarvington, himself, and his cousin Noel, the little man had no fear ofwhat might be forthcoming, since with relatives there could be no riskof betrayal. All the same, he waited for the reading of the will withsome perturbation, for the suggested secrecy hinted at some posthumousrevenge on the part of the dead man. And, hardened as he was, Garvingtondid not wish his wife and Lambert to become acquainted with hisdelinquency. He was, of course, unaware that the latter knew about itthrough Agnes, and knew also how it had been used to coerce her--for thepressure amounted to coercion--into a loveless marriage. 

The quintette assembled in a small room near the library, and when thedoor and window were closed there was no chance that any one wouldoverhear the conference. Lambert was rather puzzled to know why he hadbeen requested to be present, as he had no idea that Pine would mentionhim in the will. However, he had not long to wait before he learned thereason, for the document produced by Mr. Jarwin was singularly short andconcise. Pine had never been a great speaker, and carried his reticenceinto his testamentary disposition. Five minutes was sufficient for thereading of the will, and those present learned that all real andpersonal property had been left unreservedly to Agnes Pine, the widow ofthe testator, on condition that she did _not_ marry Noel TamsworthLeighton Lambert. If she did so, the money was to pass to a certainperson, whose name was mentioned in a sealed envelope held by Mr. Jarwin. This was only to be opened when Agnes Pine formally relinquishedher claim to the estate by marrying Noel Lambert. Seeing that the willdisposed of two millions sterling, it was a remarkably abrupt document, and the reading of it took the hearers' breath away. 

Garvington, relieved from the fears of his guilty conscience, was thefirst to recover his power of speech. He looked at the lean, dry lawyer, and demanded fiercely if no legacy had been left to him. "Surely Pinedid not forget me?" he lamented, with more temper than sorrow. 

"You have heard the will, " said Mr. Jarwin, folding up the single sheetof legal paper on which the testament was inscribed. 

"There are no legacies. "

"None at all. "

"Hasn't Pine remembered Silver?"

"He has remembered nothing and no one save Lady Agnes. " Jarwin bowed tothe silent widow, who could not trust herself to speak, so angered wasshe by the cruel way in which her husband had shown his jealousy. 

"It's all very dreadful and very disagreeable, " said Lady Garvington inher weak and inconsequent way. "I'm sure I was always nice to Hubert andhe might have left me a few shillings to get clothes. Everything goes incooks and food and--"

"Hold your tongue, Jane, " struck in her husband crossly. "You're alwaysthinking of frocks and frills. But I agree with you this will isdreadful. I am not going to sit under such a beastly sell you know, " headded, turning to Jarwin. "I shall contest the will. "

The lawyer coughed dryly and smiled. "As you are not mentioned in thetestament, Lord Garvington, I fail to see what you can do. "

"Hum! hum! hum!" Garvington was rather disconcerted. "But Agnes canfight it. "

"Why should I?" questioned the widow, who was very pale and very quiet. 

"Why should you?" blustered her brother. "It prevents your marryingagain. "

"Pardon me, it does not, " corrected Mr. Jarwin, with another dry cough. "Lady Agnes can marry any one she chooses to, save--" His eyes rested onthe calm and watchful face of Lambert. 

The young man colored, and glancing at Agnes, was about to speak. But onsecond thoughts he checked himself, as he did not wish to add to theembarrassment of the scene. It was the widow who replied. "Did SirHubert tell you why he made such a provision?" she asked, striving topreserve her calmness, which was difficult under the circumstances. 

"Why, no, " said Jarwin, nursing his chin reflectively. "Sir Hubert wasalways of a reticent disposition. He simply instructed me to draw up thewill you have heard, and gave me no explanation. Everything is in order, and I am at your service, madam, whenever you choose to send for me. "

"But suppose I marry Mr. Lambert--"

"Agnes, you won't be such a fool!" shouted her brother, growing soscarlet that he seemed to be on the point of an apoplectic fit. 

She turned on him with a look, which reduced him to silence, butcarefully avoided the eyes of the cousin. "Suppose I marry Mr. Lambert?"she asked again. 

"In that case you will lose the money, " replied Jarwin, slightly wearyof so obvious an answer having to be made. "You have heard the will. "

"Who gets the money then?"

This was another ridiculous question, as Jarwin, and not without reason, considered. 

"Would you like me to read the will again?" he asked sarcastically. 

"No. I am aware of what it contains. "

"In that case, you must know, madam, that the money goes to a certainperson whose name is mentioned in a sealed envelope, now in my officesafe. "

"Who is the person?" demanded Garvington, with a gleam of hope that Pinemight have made him the legatee. 

"I do not know, my lord. Sir Hubert Pine wrote down the name andaddress, sealed the envelope, and gave it into my charge. It can only beopened when the ceremony of marriage takes place between--" he bowedagain to Lady Agnes and this time also to Lambert. 

"Pine must have been insane, " said Garvington, fuming. "He disguiseshimself as a gypsy, and comes to burgle my house, and makes a silly willwhich ought to be upset. "

"Sir Hubert never struck me as insane, " retorted Jarwin, putting thedisputed will into his black leather bag. "A man who can make twomillion pounds in so short a space of time can scarcely be calledcrazy. "

"But this masquerading as a gypsy and a burglar, " urged Garvingtonirritably. 

"He was actually a gypsy, remember, my lord, and it was natural that heshould wish occasionally to get back to the life he loved. As to hisbeing a burglar, I venture to disagree with you. He had some reason tovisit this house at the hour and in the manner he did, and doubtless ifhe had lived he would have explained. But whatever might have been hismotive, Lord Garvington, I am certain it was not connected withrobbery. "

"Well, " snapped the fat little man candidly, "if I had known that Pinewas such a blighter as to leave me nothing, I'm hanged if I'd haveallowed him to be buried in such decent company. "

"Freddy, Freddy, the poor man is dead. Let him rest, " said LadyGarvington, who looked more limp and untidy than ever. 

"I wish he was resting somewhere else than in my vault. A damnedgypsy!"

"And my husband, " said Lady Agnes sharply. "Don't forget that, Garvington. "

"I wish I could forget it. Much use he has been to us. "

"_You_ have no cause to complain, " said his sister with a meaningglance, and Garvington suddenly subsided. 

"Won't you say something, Noel?" asked Lady Garvington dismally. 

"I don't see what there is to say, " he rejoined, not lifting his eyesfrom the ground. 

"There you are wrong, " remarked Agnes with a sudden flush. "There is avery great deal to say, but this is not the place to say it. Mr. Jarwin, " she rose to her feet, looking a queenly figure in her longblack robes, "you can return to town and later will receive myinstructions. "

The lawyer looked hard at her marble face, wondering whether she wouldchoose the lover or the money. It was a hard choice, and a verydifficult position. He could not read in her eyes what she intended todo, so mutely bowed and took a ceremonious departure, paying a silenttribute to the widow's strength of mind. "Poor thing; poor thing, "thought the solicitor, "I believe she loves her cousin. It is hard thatshe can only marry him at the cost of becoming a pauper. A difficultposition for her, indeed. H'm! she'll hold on to the money, of course;no woman would be such a fool as to pay two millions sterling for ahusband. "

In relation to nine women out of ten, this view would have been areasonable one to take, but Agnes happened to be the tenth, who had thesingular taste--madness some would have called it--to prefer love tohard cash. Still, she made no hasty decision, seeing that the issuesinvolved in her renunciation were so great. Garvington, showing acharacteristic want of tact, began to argue the question almost themoment Jarwin drove away from The Manor, but his sister promptlydeclined to enter into any discussion. 

"You and Jane can go away, " said she, cutting him short. "I wish to havea private conversation with Noel. "

"For heaven's sake don't give up the money, " whispered Garvington in anagonized tone when at the door. 

"I sold myself once to help the family, " she replied in the same lowvoice; "but I am not so sure that I am ready to do so twice. "

"Quite right, dear, " said Lady Garvington, patting the widow's hand. "Itis better to have love than money. Besides, it only means that Freddywill have to give up eating rich dinners which don't agree with him. "

"Come away, you fool!" cried Freddy, exasperated, and, seizing her arm, he drew her out of the room, growling like a sick bear. 

Agnes closed the door, and returned to look at Lambert, who stillcontinued to stare at the carpet with folded arms. "Well?" she demandedsharply. 

"Well?" he replied in the same tone, and without raising his eyes. 

"Is that all you have to say, Noel?"

"I don't see what else I can say. Pine evidently guessed that we lovedone another, although heaven knows that our affection has been innocentenough, and has taken this way to part us forever. "

"Will it part us forever?"

"I think so. As an honorable man, and one who loves you dearly, I can'texpect you to give up two millions for the sake of love in a cottagewith me. It is asking too much. "

"Not when a woman loves a man as I love you. "

This time Lambert did look up, and his eyes flashed with surprise anddelight. "Agnes, you don't mean to say that you would--"

She cut him short by sitting down beside him and taking his hand. "Iwould rather live on a crust with you in the Abbot's Wood Cottage thanin Park Lane a lonely woman with ample wealth. "

"You needn't remain lonely long, " said Lambert moodily. "Pine's willdoes not forbid you to marry any one else. "

"Do I deserve that answer, Noel, after what I have just said?"

"No, dear, no. " He pressed her hand warmly. "But you must make someallowance for my feelings. It is right that a man should sacrifice allfor a woman, but that a woman should give up everything for a man seemswrong. "

"Many women do, if they love truly as I do. "

"But, Agnes, think what people will say about me. "

"That will be your share of the sacrifice, " she replied promptly. "If Ido this, you must do that. There is no difficulty when the matter islooked on in that light. But there is a graver question to be answered. "

Lambert looked at her in a questioning manner and read the answer in hereyes. "You mean about the property of the family?"

"Yes. " Agnes heaved a sigh and shook her head. "I wish I had been born avillage girl rather than the daughter of a great house. Rank has itsobligations, Noel. I recognized that before, and therefore marriedHubert. He was a good, kind man, and, save that I lost you, I had noreason to regret becoming his wife. But I did not think that he wouldhave put such an insult on me. "

"Insult, dear?" Lambert flushed hotly. 

"What else can you call this forbidding me to marry you? The will iscertain to be filed at Somerset House, and the contents will be madeknown to the public in the usual way, through the newspapers. Then whatwill people say, Noel? Why, that I became Hubert's wife in order to gethis money, since, knowing that he was consumptive, I hoped he would soondie, and that as a rich widow I could console myself with you. They willchuckle to see how my scheme has been overturned by the will. "

"But you made no such scheme. "

"Of course not. Still, everyone will credit me with having done so. As a woman, who has been insulted, and by a man who has no reason tomistrust me, I feel inclined to renounce the money and marry you, ifonly to show how I despise the millions. But as a Lambert I must thinkagain of the family as I thought before. The only question is, whetherit is wise to place duty above love for the second time, considering themisery we have endured, and the small thanks we have received for ourself-denial?"

"Surely Garvington's estates are free by now?"

"No; they are not. Hubert, as I told you when we spoke in the cottage, paid off many mortgages, but retained possession of them. He did notcharge Garvington any interest, and let him have the income of themortgaged land. No one could have behaved better than Hubert did, untilmy brother's demands became so outrageous that it was impossible to goon lending and giving him money. Hubert did not trust him so far as togive back the mortgages, so these will form a portion of his estate. Asthat belongs to me, I can settle everything with ease, and placeGarvington in an entirely satisfactory condition. But I do that at thecost of losing you, dear. Should the estates pass to this unknownperson, the mortgages would be foreclosed, and our family would beruined. "

"Are things as bad as that?"

"Every bit as bad. Hubert told me plainly how matters stood. Forgenerations the heads of the family have been squandering money. Freddyis just as bad as the rest, and, moreover, has no head for figures. Hedoes not know the value of money, never having been in want of it. Butif everything was sold up--and it must be if I marry you and lose themillions--he will be left without an acre of land and only three hundreda year. "

"Oh, the devil!" Lambert jumped up and began to walk up and down theroom with a startled air. "That would finish the Lambert family with avengeance, Agnes. What do you wish me to do?" he asked, after a pause. 

"Wait, " she said quietly. 

"Wait? For what--the Deluge?"

"It won't come while I hold the money. I have a good business head, andHubert taught me how to deal with financial matters. I could not givehim love, but I did give him every attention, and I believe that I wasable to help him in some ways. I shall utilize my experience to see thefamily lawyer and go into matters thoroughly. Then we shall know forcertain if things are as bad as Hubert made out. If they are, I mustsacrifice you and myself for the sake of our name; if they are not--"

"Well?" asked Lambert, seeing how she hesitated. Agnes crossed the roomand placed her arms round his neck with a lovely color tinting her wancheeks. "Dear, " she whispered, "I shall marry you. In doing so I am notdisloyal to Hubert's memory, since I have always loved you, and heaccepted me as his wife on the understanding that I could not give himmy heart. And now that he has insulted me, " she drew back, and her eyesflashed, "I feel free to become your wife. "

"I see, " Lambert nodded. "We must wait?"

"We must wait. Duty comes before love. But I trust that the sacrificewill not be necessary. Good-bye, dear, " and she kissed him. 

"Good-bye, " repeated Lambert, returning the kiss. Then they parted. 

CHAPTER XI. 

BLACKMAIL. 

Having come to the only possible arrangement, consistent with thedifficult position in which they stood, Lambert and Lady Agnes tooktheir almost immediate departure from The Manor. The young man hadmerely come to stay there in response to his cousin's request, so thathis avoidance of her should not be too marked, and the suspicions ofPine excited. Now that the man was dead, there was no need to behave inthis judicious way, and having no great love for Garvington, whom hethoroughly despised, Lambert returned to his forest cottage. There hebusied himself once more with his art, and waited patiently to see whatthe final decision of Agnes would be. He did not expect to hear for someweeks, or even months, as the affairs of Garvington, being very muchinvolved, could not be understood in a moment. But the lovers, parted bya strict sense of duty, eased their minds by writing weekly letters toone another. 

Needless to say, Garvington did not at all approve of the decision ofhis sister, which she duly communicated to him. He disliked Lambert, both as the next heir to the estates, and because he was a more popularman than himself. Even had Pine not prohibited the marriage in his will, Garvington would have objected to Agnes becoming the young man's wife;as it was, he stormed tempests, but without changing the widow'sdetermination. Being a remarkably selfish creature, all he desired wasthat Agnes should live a solitary life as a kind of banker, to supplyhim with money whenever he chose to ask for the same. Pine he had notbeen able to manage, but he felt quite sure that he could bully hissister into doing what he wanted. It both enraged and surprised him tofind that she had a will of her own and was not content to obey hisegotistical orders. Agnes would not even remain under his roof--as hewanted her to, lest some other person should get hold of her and thedesirable millions--but returned to her London house. The only comforthe had was that Lambert was not with her, and therefore--as he devoutlyhoped--she would meet some man who would cause her to forget the Abbot'sWood recluse. So long as Agnes retained the money, Garvington did notparticularly object to her marrying, as he always hoped to cajole andbully ready cash out of her, but he would have preferred had sheremained single, as then she could be more easily plundered. 

"And yet I don't know, " he said to his long-suffering wife. "While she'sa widow there's always the chance that she may take the bit between herteeth and marry Noel, in which case she loses everything. It will be aswell to get her married. "

"You will have no selection of the husband this time, " said LadyGarvington, whose sympathies were entirely for Agnes. "She will choosefor herself. "

"Let her, " retorted Garvington, with feigned generosity. "So long as shedoes not choose Noel; hang him!"

"He's the very man she will choose;" replied his wife, and Garvington, uneasily conscious that she was probably right, cursed freely all womenin general and his sister in particular. Meanwhile he went to Paris tolook after a famous chef, of whom he had heard great things, and lefthis wife in London with strict injunctions to keep a watch on Agnes. 

The widow was speedily made aware of these instructions, for when LadyGarvington came to stay with her sister-in-law at the sumptuous Mayfairmansion, she told her hostess about the conversation. More than that, she even pressed her to marry Noel, and be happy. 

"Money doesn't do so much, after all, when you come to think of it, "lamented Lady Garvington. "And I know you'd be happier with Noel, thanliving here with all this horrid wealth. "

"What would Freddy say if he heard you talk so, Jane?"

"I don't know what else he can say, " rejoined the other reflectively. "He's never kept his temper or held his tongue with me. His liver isnearly always out of order with over-eating. However, " she addedcheering up, "he is sure to die of apoplexy before long, and then Ishall live on tea and buns for the rest of my life. I simply hate thesight of a dinner table. "

"Freddy isn't a pretty sight during a meal, " admitted his sister with ashrug. "All the same you shouldn't wish him dead, Jane. You might have aworse husband. "

"I'd rather have a profligate than a glutton, Agnes. But Freddy won'tdie, my dear. He'll go to Wiesbaden, or Vichy, or Schwalbach, and takethe waters to get thin; then he'll return to eat himself to the size ofa prize pig again. But thank goodness, " said Lady Garvington, cheeringup once more, "he's away for a few weeks, and we can enjoy ourselves. But do let us have plain joints and no sauces, Agnes. "

"Oh, you can live on bread and water if you choose, " said the widowgood-humoredly. "It's a pity I am in mourning, as I can't take you outmuch. But the motor is always at your disposal, and I can give you allthe money you want. Get a few dresses--"

"And hats, and boots, and shoes, and--and--oh, I don't know what else. You're a dear, Agnes, and although I don't want to ruin you, I do wantheaps of things. I'm in rags, as Freddy eats up our entire income. "

"You can't ruin a woman with two millions, Jane. Get what you requireand I'll pay. I am only too glad to give you some pleasure, since Ican't attend to you as I ought to. But you see, nearly three times aweek I have to consult the lawyers about settling Freddy's affairs. "

On these conditions four or five weeks passed away very happily for thetwo women. Lady Garvington certainly had the time of her life, andregained a portion of her lost youth. She revelled in shopping, went ina quiet way to theatres, patronized skating rinks, and even attended oneor two small winter dances. And to her joy, she met with a nice youngman, who was earnestly in pursuit of a new religion, which involved muchfasting and occasional vegetarian meals. He taught her to eat nuts, andeschew meats, talking meanwhile of the psychic powers which suchabstemiousness would develop in her. Of course Lady Garvington did notoverdo this asceticism, but she was thankful to meet a man who had notread Beeton's Cookery Book. Besides, he flirted quite nicely. 

Agnes, pleased to see her sister-in-law enjoying life, gave herattention to Garvington's affairs, and found them in a woeful mess. Itreally did appear as if she would have to save the Lambert family fromever-lasting disgrace, and from being entirely submerged, by keepinghold of her millions. But she did not lose heart, and worked on bravelyin the hope that an adjustment would save a few thousand a year forFreddy, without touching any of Pine's money. If she could manage tosecure him a sufficient income to keep up the title, and to prevent thesale of The Manor in Hengishire, she then intended to surrender herhusband's wealth and retire to a country life with Noel as her husband. 

"He can paint and I can look after the cottage along with Mrs. Tribb, "she told Mrs. Belgrove, who called to see her one day, more painted anddyed and padded and tastefully dressed than ever. "We can keep fowls andthings, you know, " she added vaguely. 

"Quite an idyl, " tittered the visitor, and then went away to tell herfriends that Lady Agnes must have been in love with her cousin all thetime. And as the contents of the will were now generally known, everyone agreed that the woman was a fool to give up wealth for a dullexistence in the woods. "All the same it's very sweet, " sighed Mrs. Belgrove, having made as much mischief as she possibly could. "I shouldlike it myself if I could only dress as a Watteau shepherdess, you know, and carry a lamb with a blue ribbon round its dear neck. "

Of course, Lady Agnes heard nothing of this ill-natured chatter, sinceshe did not go into society during her period of mourning, and receivedonly a few of her most intimate friends. Moreover, besides attending toGarvington's affairs, it was necessary that she should have frequentconsultations with Mr. Jarwin in his stuffy Chancery Lane office, relative to the large fortune left by her late husband. There, on threeoccasions she met Silver, the ex-secretary, when he came to explainvarious matters to the solicitor. With the consent of Lady Agnes, theman had been discharged, when Jarvin took over the management of themillions, but having a thorough knowledge of Pine's financial dealings, it was necessary that he should be questioned every now and then. 

Silver was rather sulky over his abrupt dismissal, but cunninglyconcealed his real feelings when in the presence of the widow, since shewas too opulent a person to offend. It was Silver who suggested that areward should be offered for the detection of Pine's assassin. LadyAgnes approved of the idea, and indeed was somewhat shocked that she hadnot thought of taking this course herself. Therefore, within seven daysevery police office in the United Kingdom was placarded with bills, stating that the sum of one thousand pounds would be given to the personor persons who should denounce the culprit. The amount offered causedquite a flutter of excitement, and public interest in the case wasrevived for nearly a fortnight. At the conclusion of that period, asnothing fresh was discovered, people ceased to discuss the matter. Itseemed as though the reward, large as it was, would never be claimed. 

But having regard to the fact that Silver was interesting himself in theendeavor to avenge his patron's death, Lady Agnes was not at allsurprised to receive a visit from him one foggy November afternoon. Shecertainly did not care much for the little man, but feeling dull andsomewhat lonely, she quite welcomed his visit. Lady Garvington had gonewith her ascetic admirer to a lecture on "Souls and Sorrows!" thereforeAgnes had a spare hour for the ex-secretary. He was shown into her ownparticular private sitting-room, and she welcomed him with studiedpoliteness, for try as she might it was impossible for her to overcomeher mistrust. 

"Good-day, Mr. Silver, " she said, when he bowed before her. "This is anunexpected visit. Won't you be seated?"

Silver accepted her offer of a chair with an air of demure shyness, andsitting on its edge stared at her rather hard. He looked neat and dapperin his Bond Street kit, and for a man who had started life as aWhitechapel toymaker, his manners were inoffensive. While Pine'ssecretary he had contrived to pick up hints in the way of socialbehavior, and undoubtedly he was clever, since he so readily adaptedhimself to his surroundings. He was not a gentleman, but he looked likea gentleman, and therein lay a subtle difference as Lady Agnes decided. She unconsciously in her manner, affable as it was, suggested the gulfbetween them, and Silver, quickly contacting the atmosphere, did notlove her any the more for the hint. 

Nevertheless, he admired her statuesque beauty, the fairness of whichwas accentuated by her sombre dress. Blinking like a well-fed cat, Silver stared at his hostess, and she looked questioningly at him. Withhis foxy face, his reddish hair, and suave manners, too careful to benatural, he more than ever impressed her with the idea that he was adangerous man. Yet she could not see in what way he could reveal hismalignant disposition. 

"What do you wish to see me about, Mr. Silver?" she asked kindly, butdid not--as he swiftly noticed--offer him a cup of tea, although it wasclose upon five o'clock. 

"I have come to place my services at your disposal, " he said in a lowvoice. 

"Really, I am not aware that I need them, " replied Lady Agnes coldly, and not at all anxious to accept the offer. 

"I think, " said Silver dryly, and clearing his throat, "that when youhear what I have to say you will be glad that I have come. "

"Indeed! Will you be good enough to speak plainer?"

She colored hotly when she asked the question, as it struck her suddenlythat perhaps this plotter knew of Garvington's slip regarding the check. But as that had been burnt by Pine at the time of her marriage, shereflected that even if Silver knew about it, he could do nothing. Unless, and it was this thought that made her turn red, Garvington hadagain risked contact with the criminal courts. The idea was not apleasant one, but being a brave woman, she faced the possibility boldly. 

"Well?" she asked calmly, as he did not reply immediately. "What haveyou to say?"

"It's about Pine's death, " said Silver bluntly. 

"Sir Hubert, if you please. "

"And why, Lady Agnes?" Silver raised his faint eyebrows. "We were morelike brothers than master and servant. And remember that it was by thepenny toys that I invented your husband first made money. "

"In talking to me, I prefer that you should call my late husband SirHubert, " insisted the widow haughtily. "What have you discoveredrelative to his death?"

Silver did not answer the question directly. "Sir Hubert, since you willhave it so, Lady Agnes, was a gypsy, " he remarked carelessly. 

"That was made plain at the inquest, Mr. Silver. "

"Quite so, Lady Agnes, but there were other things not made plain onthat occasion. It was not discovered who shot him. "

"You tell me nothing new. I presume you have come to explain that youhave discovered a clew to the truth?"

Silver raised his pale face steadily. "Would you be glad if I had?"

"Certainly! Can you doubt it?"

The man shirked a reply to this question also. "Sir Hubert did not treatme over well, " he observed irrelevantly. 

"I fear that has nothing to do with me, Mr. Silver. "

"And I was dimissed from my post, " he went on imperturbably. 

"On Mr. Jarwin's advice, " she informed him quickly. "There was no needfor you to be retained. But I believe that you were given a year'ssalary in lieu of notice. "

"That is so, " he admitted. "I am obliged to you and to Mr. Jarwin forthe money, although it is not a very large sum. Considering what I didfor Sir Hubert, and how he built up his fortune out of my brains, Ithink that I have been treated shabbily. "

Lady Agnes rose, and moved towards the fireplace to touch the ivorybutton of the electric bell. "On that point I refer you to Mr. Jarwin, "she said coldly. "This interview has lasted long enough and can lead tonothing. "

"It may lead to something unpleasant unless you listen to me, " saidSilver acidly. "I advise you not to have me turned out, Lady Agnes. "

"What do you mean?" She dropped the hand she had extended to ring thebell, and faced the smooth-faced creature suddenly. "I don't know whatyou are talking about. "

"If you will sit down, Lady Agnes, I can explain. "

"I can receive your explanation standing, " said the widow, frowning. "Bebrief, please. "

"Very well. To put the matter in a nutshell, I want five thousandpounds. "

"Five thousand pounds!" she echoed, aghast. 

"On account, " said Silver blandly. "On account, Lady Agnes. "

"And for what reason?"

"Sir Hubert was a gypsy, " he said again, and with a significant look. 

"Well?"

"He stopped at the camp near Abbot's Wood. "

"Well?"

"There is a gypsy girl there called Chaldea. "

"Chaldea! Chaldea!" muttered the widow, passing her hand across herbrow. "I have heard that name. Oh, yes. Miss Greeby mentioned it to meas the name of a girl who was sitting as Mr. Lambert's model. "

"Yes, " assented Silver, grinning. "She is a very beautiful girl. "

The color rushed again to the woman's cheeks, but she controlled heremotions with an effort. "So Miss Greeby told me!" She knew that the manwas hinting that Lambert admired the girl in question, but her prideprevented her admitting the knowledge. "Chaldea is being painted asEsmeralda to the Quasimodo of her lover, a Servian gypsy called Kara, asI have been informed, Mr. Silver. But what has all this to do with me?"

"Don't be in a hurry, Lady Agnes. It will take time to explain. "

"How dare you take this tone with me?" demanded the widow, clenching herhands. "Leave the room, sir, or I shall have you turned out. "

"Oh, I shall leave since you wish it, " replied Silver, rising slowly andsmoothing his silk hat with his sleeve. "But of course I shall try andearn the reward you offered, by taking the letter to the police. "

Agnes was so surprised that she closed again the door she had opened forher visitor's exit. "What letter?"

"That one which was written to inveigle Sir Hubert to The Manor on thenight he was murdered, " replied Silver slowly, and suddenly raising hiseyes he looked at her straightly. 

"I don't understand, " she said in a puzzled way. "I have never heardthat such a letter was in existence. Where is it?"

"Chaldea has it, and will not give it up unless she receives fivethousand pounds, " answered the man glibly. "Give it to me and it passesinto your possession, Lady Agnes. "

"Give you what?"

"Five thousand pounds--on account. "

"On account of blackmail. How dare you make such a proposition to me?"

"You know, " said Silver pointedly. 

"I know nothing. It is the first time I have heard of any letter. Whowrote it, may I ask?"

"You know, " said Silver again. 

Lady Agnes was so insulted by his triumphant look that she could havestruck his grinning face. However, she had too strong a nature to lowerherself in this way, and pointed to a chair. "Let me ask you a fewquestions, Mr. Silver, " she said imperiously. 

"Oh, I am quite ready to answer whatever you choose to ask, " heretorted, taking his seat again and secretly surprised at herself-control. 

"You say that Chaldea holds a letter which inveigled my husband to hisdeath?" demanded Lady Agnes coolly. 

"Yes. And she wants five thousand pounds for it. "

"Why doesn't she give it to the police?"

"One thousand pounds is not enough for the letter. It is worth more--tosome people, " and Silver raised his pale eyes again. 

"To me, I presume you mean;" then when he bowed, she continued herexamination. "The five thousand pounds you intimate is on account, yetyou say that Chaldea will deliver the letter for that sum. "

"To me, " rejoined the ex-secretary impudently. "And when it is in mypossession, I can give it to you for twenty thousand pounds. "

Lady Agnes laughed in his face. "I am too good a business woman to makesuch a bargain, " she said with a shrug. 

"Well, you know best, " replied Silver, imitating her shrug. 

"I know nothing; I am quite in the dark as to the reason for yourblackmailing, Mr. Silver. "

"That is a nasty word, Lady Agnes. "

"It is the only word which seems to suit the situation. Why should Igive twenty-five thousand pounds for this letter?"

"Its production will place the police on the track of the assassin. "

"And is not that what I desire? Why did I offer a reward of one thousandpounds if I did not hope that the wretch who murdered my husband shouldbe brought to justice?"

Silver exhibited unfeigned surprise. "You wish that?"

"Certainly I do. Where was this letter discovered?"

"Chaldea went to the tent of your husband in the camp and found it inthe pocket of his coat. He apparently left it behind by mistake when hewent to watch. "

"Watch?"

"Yes! The letter stated that you intended to elope that night with Mr. Lambert, and would leave the house by the blue door. Sir Hubert went towatch and prevent the elopement. In that way he came by his death, sinceLord Garvington threatened to shoot a possible burglar. Of course, SirHubert, when the blue door was opened by Lord Garvington, who had heardthe footsteps of the supposed burglar, threw himself forward, thinkingyou were coming out to meet Mr. Lambert. Sir Hubert was first shot inthe arm by Lord Garvington, who really believed for the moment that hehad to do with a robber. But the second shot, " ended Silver withemphasis, "was fired by a person concealed in the shrubbery, who knewthat Sir Hubert would walk into the trap laid by the letter. "

During this amazing recital, Lady Agnes, with her eyes on the man'sface, and her hands clasped in sheer surprise, had sat down on a nearcouch. She could scarcely believe her ears. "Is this true?" she asked ina faltering voice. 

Silver shrugged his shoulders again. "The letter held by Chaldeacertainly set the snare in which Sir Hubert was caught. Unless theperson in the shrubbery knew about the letter, the person would scarcelyhave been concealed there with a revolver. I know about the letter forcertain, since Chaldea showed it to me, when I went to ask questionsabout the murder in the hope of gaining the reward. The rest of my storyis theoretical. "

"Who was the person who fired the shot?" asked Lady Agnes abruptly. 

"I don't know. "

"Who wrote the letter which set the snare?"

Silver shuffled. "Chaldea loves Mr. Lambert, " he said hesitating. 

"Go on, " ordered the widow coldly and retaining her self-control. 

"She is jealous of you, Lady Agnes, because--"

"There is no reason to explain, " interrupted the listener between herteeth. 

"Well, then, Chaldea hating you, says that you wrote the letter. "

"Oh, indeed. " Lady Agnes replied calmly enough, although her conflictingemotions almost suffocated her. "Then I take it that this gypsy declaresme to be a murderess. "

"Oh, I shouldn't say that exactly. "

"I do say it, " cried Lady Agnes, rising fiercely. "If I wrote theletter, and set the snare, I must necessarily know that some one washiding in the shrubbery to shoot my husband. It is an abominable liefrom start to finish. "

"I am glad to hear you say so. But the letter?"

"The police will deal with that. "

"The police? You will let Chaldea give the letter to the police?"

"I am innocent and have no fear of the police. Your attempt toblackmail me has failed, Mr. Silver. "

"Be wise and take time for reflection, " he urged, walking towards thedoor, "for I have seen this letter, and it is in your handwriting. "

"I never wrote such a letter. "

"Then who did--in your handwriting?"

"Perhaps you did yourself, Mr. Silver, since you are trying to blackmailme in this bareface way. "

Silver snarled and gave her an ugly look. "I did no such thing, " heretorted vehemently, and, as it seemed, honestly enough. "I had everyreason to wish that Sir Hubert should live, since my income and myposition depended upon his existence. But you--"

"What about me?" demanded Lady Agnes, taking so sudden a step forwardthat the little man retreated nearer the door. 

"People say--"

"I know what people say and what you are about to repeat, " she said in astifled voice. "You can tell the girl to take that forged letter to thepolice. I am quite able to face any inquiry. "

"Is Mr. Lambert also able?"

"Mr. Lambert?" Agnes felt as though she would choke. 

"He was at his cottage on that night. "

"I deny that; he went to London. "

"Chaldea can prove that he was at his cottage, and--"

"You had better go, " said Lady Agnes, turning white and lookingdangerous. "Go, before you say what you may be sorry for. I shall tellMr. Lambert the story you have told me, and let him deal with thematter. "

Silver threw off the mask, as he was enraged she should so boldlywithstand his demands. "I give you one week, " he said harshly. "And, ifyou do not pay me twenty-five thousand pounds, that letter goes to theinspector at Wanbury. "

"It can go now, " she declared dauntlessly. 

"In that case you and Mr. Lambert will be arrested at once. "

Agnes gripped the man's arm as he was about to step through the door. "Itake your week of grace, " she said with a sudden impulse of wisdom. 

"I thought you would, " retorted Silver insultingly. "But remember I mustget the money at the end of seven days. It's twenty-five thousand poundsfor me, or disgrace to you, " and with an abrupt nod he disappearedsneering. 

"Twenty-five thousand pounds or disgrace, " whispered Agnes to herself. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE CONSPIRACY. 

It was lucky that Lambert did not know of the ordeal to which Agnes hadto submit, unaided, since he was having a most unhappy time himself. Ina sketching expedition he had caught a chill, which had developed oncemore a malarial fever, contracted in the Congo marshes some yearspreviously. Whenever his constitution weakened, this ague fit wouldreappear, and for days, sometimes weeks, he would shiver with cold, andalternately burn with fever. As the autumn mists were hanging round theleafless Abbot's Wood, it was injudicious of him to sit in the open, however warmly clothed, seeing that he was predisposed to disease. Buthis desire for the society of the woman he loved, and the hopelessnessof the outlook, rendered him reckless, and he was more often out ofdoors than in. The result was that when Agnes came down to relate theinterview with Silver, she found him in his sitting-room swathed inblankets, and reclining in an arm-chair placed as closely to a largewood fire as was possible. He was very ill indeed, poor man, and sheuttered an exclamation when she saw his wan cheeks and hollow eyes. Lambert was now as weak as he had been strong, and with the motheringinstinct of a woman, she rushed forward to kneel beside his chair. 

"My dear, my dear, why did you not send for me?" she wailed, keepingback her tears with an effort. 

"Oh, I'm all right, Agnes, " he answered cheerfully, and fondly claspingher hand. "Mrs. Tribb is nursing me capitally. "

"I'm doing my best, " said the rosy-faced little housekeeper, who stoodat the door with her podgy hands primly folded over her apron. "Plentyof bed and food is what I give Master Noel; but bless you, my lady, hewon't stay between the blankets, being always a worrit from a boy. "

"It seems to me that I am very much between the blankets now, " murmuredLambert in a tired voice, and with a glance at his swathed limbs. "Goaway, Mrs. Tribb, and get Lady Agnes something to eat. "

"I only want a cup of tea, " said Agnes, looking anxiously into herlover's bluish-tinted face. "I'm not hungry. "

Mrs. Tribb took a long look at the visitor and pursed up her lips, asshe shook her head. "Hungry you mayn't be, my lady, but food you musthave, and that of the most nourishing and delicate. You look almost asmuch a corpse as Master Noel there. "

"Yes, Agnes, you do seem to be ill, " said Lambert with a startledglance at her deadly white face, and at the dark circles under her eyes. "What is the matter, dear?"

"Nothing! Nothing! Don't worry. "

Mrs. Tribb still continued to shake her head, and, to vary the movement, nodded like a Chinese mandarin. "You ain't looked after proper, my lady, for all your fine London servants, who ain't to be trusted, nohow, having neither hands to do nor hearts to feel for them as wants comfortsand attentions. I remember you, my lady, a blooming young rose of a gal, and now sheets ain't nothing to your complexion. But rose you shall beagain, my lady, if wine and food can do what they're meant to do. Teayou shan't have, nohow, but a glass or two of burgundy, and a plate ofpatty-foo-grass sandwiches, and later a bowl of strong beef tea withport wine to strengthen the same, " and Mrs. Tribb, with a determinedlook on her face, went away to prepare these delicacies. 

"My dear! my dear!" murmured Agnes again when the door closed. "Youshould have sent for me. "

"Nonsense, " answered Lambert, smoothing her hair. "I'm not a child tocry out at the least scratch. It's only an attack of my old malarialfever, and I shall be all right in a few days. "

"Not a few of these days, " said Agnes, looking out of the window at thegaunt, dripping trees and gray sky and melancholy monoliths. "You oughtto come to London and see the doctor. "

"Had I come, I should have had to pay you a visit, and I thought thatyou did not wish me to, until things were adjusted. "

Agnes drew back, and, kneeling before the fire, spread out her hands tothe blaze. "Will they ever be adjusted?" she asked herself despairingly, but did not say so aloud, as she was unwilling to worry the sick man. "Well, I only came down to The Manor for a few days, " she said aloud, and in a most cheerful manner. "Jane wants to get the house in orderfor Garvington, who returns from Paris in a week. "

"Agnes! Agnes!" Lambert shook his head. "You are not telling me thetruth. I know you too well, my dear. "

"I really am staying with Jane at The Manor, " she persisted. 

"Oh, I believe that; but you are in trouble and came down to consult me. "

"Yes, " she admitted faintly. "I am in great trouble. But I don't wish toworry you while you are in this state. "

"You will worry me a great deal more by keeping silence, " said Lambert, sitting up in his chair and drawing the blankets more closely round him. "Do not trouble about me. I'm all right. But you--" he looked at herkeenly and with a dismayed expression. "The trouble must be very great, "he remarked. 

"It may become so, Noel. It has to do with--oh, here is Mrs. Tribb!" andshe broke off hurriedly, as the housekeeper appeared with a tray. 

"Now, my lady, just you sit in that arm-chair opposite to Master Noel, and I'll put the tray on this small stool beside you. Sandwiches andburgundy wine, my lady, and see that you eat and drink all you can. Walking over on this dripping day, " cried Mrs. Tribb, bustling about. "Giving yourself your death of cold, and you with carriages and horses, and them spitting cats of motive things. You're as bad as Master Noel, my lady. As for him, God bless him evermore, he's--" Mrs. Tribb raisedher hands to show that words failed her, and once more vanished throughthe door to get ready the beef tea. 

Agnes did not want to eat, but Lambert, who quite agreed with thekind-hearted practical housekeeper, insisted that she should do so. Toplease him she took two sandwiches, and a glass of the strong red wine, which brought color back to her cheeks in some degree. When shefinished, and had drawn her chair closer to the blaze, he smiled. 

"We are just like Darby and Joan, " said Lambert, who looked much betterfor her presence. "I am so glad you are here, Agnes. You are the verybest medicine I can have to make me well. "

"The idea of comparing me to anything so nasty as medicine, " laughedAgnes with an attempt at gayety. "But indeed, Noel, I wish my visit wasa pleasant one. But it is not, whatever you may say; I am in greattrouble. "

"From what--with what--in what?" stuttered Lambert, so confusedly andanxiously that she hesitated to tell him. 

"Are you well enough to hear?"

"Of course I am, " he answered fretfully, for the suspense began to tellon his nerves. "I would rather know the worst and face the worst than beleft to worry over these hints. Has the trouble to do with the murder?"

"Yes. And with Mr. Silver. "

"Pine's secretary? I thought you had got rid of him?"

"Oh, yes. Mr. Jarwin said that he was not needed, so I paid him a year'swages instead of giving him notice, and let him go. But I have met himonce or twice at the lawyers, as he has been telling Mr. Jarwin aboutpoor Hubert's investments. And yesterday afternoon he came to see me. "

"What about?"

Agnes came to the point at once, seeing that it would be better to doso, and put an end to Lambert's suspense. "About a letter supposed tohave been written by me, as a means of luring Hubert to The Manor to bemurdered. "

Lambert's sallow and pinched face grew a deep red. "Is the man mad?"

"He's sane enough to ask twenty-five thousand pounds for the letter, "she said in a dry tone. "There's not much madness about that request. "

"Twenty-five thousand pounds!" gasped Lambert, gripping the arms of hischair and attempting to rise. 

"Yes. Don't get up, Noel, you are too weak. " Agnes pressed him back intothe seat. "Twenty thousand for himself and five thousand for Chaldea. "

"Chaldea! Chaldea! What has she got to do with the matter?"

"She holds the letter, " said Agnes with a side-glance. "And beingjealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silenceand the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it tothe police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up mymind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation. "

Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why isChaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily. 

"I think you can best answer that question, Noel. "

"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you aboutChaldea?"

"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby foranother. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture. "

"Esmeralda and Quasimodo, " replied the artist quickly. "You will findwhat I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confoundedgirl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined tosee her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her noencouragement. "

"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would. "

"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues tohaunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comesdaily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness. "

"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her, "was the reply. "I wish to see it. "

"Silver declares that you wrote it?"

"He does. Chaldea showed it to him. "

"It is in your handwriting?"

"So Mr. Silver declares. "

Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggleduncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints, " hesaid with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailedaccount of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exactwords if you can remember them, Agnes. "

"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insultseasily. "

"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear. "

Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that hadpassed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twiceduring the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, helonged for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have faredbadly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment. When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes. 

"It's a conspiracy, " he declared. 

"A conspiracy, Noel?"

"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love withme. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to doyou an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I willdo Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a singlepenny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police. But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has preventedher doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin againvexedly. 

"It must be a forgery. "

"Without doubt, but not of your handwriting, I fancy, in spite of whatthis daring blackguard says. He informed you that the letter stated howyou intended to elope with me on that night, and would leave The Manorby the blue door. Also, on the face of it, it would appear that you hadwritten the letter to your husband, since otherwise it would not havebeen in his possession. You would not have given him such a hint had anelopement really been arranged. "

Agnes frowned. "There was no chance of an elopement being arranged, " sheobserved rather coldly. 

"Of course not. You and I know as much, but I am looking at the matterfrom the point of view of the person who wrote the letter. It can't beyour forged handwriting, for Pine would never have believed that youwould put him on the track as it were. No, Agnes. Depend upon it, theletter was a warning sent by some sympathetic friend, and is probably ananonymous one. "

Agnes nodded meditatively. "You may be right, Noel. But who wrote toHubert?"

"We must see the letter and find out. "

"But if it is my forged handwriting?"

"I don't believe it is, " said Lambert decisively. "No conspirator wouldbe so foolish as to conduct his plot in such a way. However, Chaldea hasthe letter, according to Silver, and we must make her give it up. She issure to be here soon, as she always comes bothering Mrs. Tribb in theafternoon about my health. Just ring that hand-bell, Agnes. "

"Do you think Chaldea wrote the letter?" she asked, having obeyed him. 

"No. She has not the education to forge, or even to write decently. "

"Perhaps Mr. Silver--but no. I taxed him with setting the trap, and hedeclared that Hubert was more benefit to him alive than dead, which isperfectly true. Here is Mrs. Tribb, Noel. "

Lambert turned his head. "Has that gypsy been here to-day?" he askedsharply. 

"Not yet, Master Noel, but there's no saying when she may come, forshe's always hanging round the house. I'd tar and feather her and slapand pinch her if I had my way, say what you like, my lady. I've nopatience with gals of that free-and-easy, light-headed, butter-won't-melt-in-your-mouth kind. "

"If she comes to-day, show her in here, " said Lambert, paying littleattention to Mrs. Tribb's somewhat German speech of mouth-filling words. 

The housekeeper's black eyes twinkled, and she opened her lips, then sheshut them again, and looking at Lady Agnes in a questioning way, trottedout of the room. It was plain that Mrs. Tribb knew of Chaldea'sadmiration for her master, and could not understand why he wished her toenter the house when Lady Agnes was present. She did not think it a wisething to apply fire to gunpowder, which, in her opinion, was whatLambert was doing. 

There ensued silence for a few moments. Then Agnes, staring into thefire, remarked in a musing manner, "I wonder who did shoot Hubert. Mr. Silver would not have done so, as it was to his interest to keep himalive. Do you think that to hurt me, Noel, Chaldea might have--"

"No! No! No! It was to her interest also that Pine should live, sinceshe knew that I could not marry you while he was alive. "

Agnes nodded, understanding him so well that she did not need to askfor a detailed explanation. "It could not have been any of those stayingat The Manor, " she said doubtfully, "since every one was indoors and inbed. Garvington, of course, only broke poor Hubert's arm under amisapprehension. Who could have been the person in the shrubbery?"

"Silver hints that I am the individual, " said Lambert grimly. 

"Yes, he does, " assented Lady Agnes quickly. "I declared that you werein London, but he said that you returned on that night to this place. "

"I did, worse luck. I went to town, thinking it best to be away whilePine was in the neighborhood, and--"

"You knew that Hubert was a gypsy and at the camp?" interrupted Agnes ina nervous manner, for the information startled her. 

"Yes! Chaldea told me so, when she was trying to make me fall in lovewith her. I did not tell you, as I thought that you might be vexed, although I dare say I should have done so later. However, I went to townin order to prevent trouble, and only returned for that single night. Iwent back to town next morning very early, and did not hear about themurder until I saw a paragraph in the evening papers. Afterwards I camedown to the funeral because Garvington asked me to, and I thought thatyou would like it. "

"Why did you come back on that particular night?"

"My dear Agnes, I had no idea that Hubert would be murdered on thatespecial night, so did not choose it particularly. I returned because Ihad left behind a parcel of your letters to me when we were engaged. Ifancied that Chaldea might put Hubert up to searching the cottage whileI was away, and if he had found those letters he would have been morejealous than ever, as you can easily understand. "

"No, I can't understand, " flashed out Agnes sharply. "Hubert knew thatwe loved one another, and that I broke the engagement to save thefamily. I told him that I could not give him the affection he desired, and he was content to marry me on those terms. The discovery of letterswritten before I became his wife would not have caused trouble, since Iwas always loyal to him. There was no need for you to return, and yourpresence here on that night lends color to Mr. Silver's accusation. "

"But you don't believe--"

"Certainly I don't. All the same it is awkward for both of us. "

"I think it was made purposely awkward, Agnes. Whosoever murdered Hubertmust have known of my return, and laid the trap on that night, so that Imight be implicated. "

"But who set the trap?"

"The person who wrote that letter. "

"And who wrote the letter?"

"That is what we have to find out from Chaldea!"

At that moment; as if he had summoned her, the gypsy suddenly flung openthe door and walked in with a sulky expression on her dark face. Atfirst she had been delighted to hear that Lambert wanted to see her, butwhen informed by Mrs. Tribb that Lady Agnes was with the young man, shehad lost her temper. However, the chance of seeing Lambert was tootempting to forego, so she marched in defiantly, ready to fight with herrival if there was an opportunity of doing so. But the Gentile ladydeclined the combat, and took no more notice of the jealous gypsy thanwas absolutely necessary. On her side Chaldea ostentatiously addressedher conversation to Lambert. 

"How are you, rye?" she asked, stopping with effort in the middle of theroom, for her impulse was to rush forward and gather him to her heavingbosom. "Have you taken drows, my precious lord?"

"What do you mean by drows, Chaldea?"

"Poison, no less. You look drabbed, for sure. "

"Drabbed?"

"Poisoned. But I waste the kalo jib on you, my Gorgious. God bless youfor a sick one, say I, and that's a bad dukkerin, the which in gentleRomany means fortune, my Gentile swell. "

"Drop talking such nonsense, " said Lambert sharply, and annoyed to seehow the girl ignored the presence of Lady Agnes. "I have a few questionsto ask you about a certain letter. "

"Kushto bak to the rye, who showed it to the lady, " said Chaldea, tossing her head so that the golden coins jingled. 

"He did not show it to me, girl, " remarked Lady Agnes coldly. 

"Hai! It seems that the rumy of Hearne can lie. "

"I shall put you out of the house if you speak in that way, " saidLambert sternly. "Silver went to Lady Agnes and tried to blackmail her. "

"He's a boro pappin, and that's Romany for a large goose, my Gorgiousrye, for I asked no gold. "

"You told him to ask five thousand pounds. "

"May I die in a ditch if I did!" cried Chaldea vehemently. "Touch thegold of the raclan I would not, though I wanted bread. The tiny rye tookthe letter to give to the prastramengro, and that's a policeman, mygentleman, so that there might be trouble. But I wished no gold fromher. Romany speaking, I should like to poison her. I love you, and--"

"Have done with this nonsense, Chaldea. Talk like that and out you go. I can see from what you admit, that you have been making mischief. "

"That's as true as my father, " laughed the gypsy viciously. "And glad amI to say the word, my boro rye. And why should the raclan go free-footedwhen she drew her rom to be slaughtered like a pig?"

"I did nothing of the sort, " cried Agnes, with an angry look. 

"Duvel, it is true. " Chaldea still addressed Lambert, and took no noticeof Agnes. "I swear it on your Bible-book. I found the letter in mybrother's tent, the day after he perished. Hearne, for Hearne he was, and a gentle Romany also, read the letter, saying that the raclan, hisown romi, was running away with you. "

"Who wrote the letter?" demanded Agnes indignantly. 

This time Chaldea answered her fiercely. "You did, my Gorgious rani, andlie as you may, it's the truth I tell. "

Ill as he was, Lambert could not endure seeing the girl insult Agnes. With unexpected strength he rose from his chair and took her by theshoulders to turn her out of the room. Chaldea laughed wildly, but didnot resist. It was Agnes who intervened. "Let her stay until we learnthe meaning of these things, Noel, " she said rapidly in French. 

"She insults you, " he replied, in the same tongue, but released thegirl. 

"Never mind; never mind. " Agnes turned to Chaldea and reverted toEnglish. "Girl, you are playing a dangerous game. I wrote no letter tothe man you call Hearne, and who was my husband--Sir Hubert Pine. "

Chaldea laughed contemptuously. "Avali, that is true. The letter waswritten by you to my precious rye here, and Hearne's dukkerin brought ithis way. "

"How did he get it?"

"Those who know, know, " retorted Chaldea indifferently. "Hearne's breathwas out of him before I could ask. "

"Why do you say that I wrote the letter?"

"The tiny rye swore by his God that you did. "

"It is absolutely false!"

"Oh, my mother, there are liars about, " jeered the gypsy sceptically. "Catch you blabbing your doings on the crook, my rani, Chore mandy--"

"Speak English, " interrupted Agnes, who was quivering with rage. 

"You can't cheat me, " translated Chaldea sulkily. "You write my rye, here, the letter swearing to run world-wide with him, and let it fallinto your rom's hands, so as to fetch him to the big house. Then didyou, my cunning gentleman, " she whirled round on the astounded Lambertviciously, "hide so quietly in the bushes to shoot. Hai! it is so, and Ilove you for the boldness, my Gorgious one. "

"It is absolutely false, " cried Lambert, echoing Agnes. 

"True! true! and twice times true. May I go crazy, Meg, if it isn't. Youwanted the raclan as your romi, and so plotted my brother's death. Butyour sweet one will go before the Poknees, and with irons on her wrists, and a rope round her--"

"You she-devil!" shouted Lambert in a frenzy of rage, and forgetting inhis anger the presence of Agnes. 

"Words of honey under the moon, " mocked the girl, then suddenly becametender. "Let her go, rye, let her go. My love is all for you, and whenwe pad the hoof together, those who hate us shall take off the hat. "

Lambert sat glaring at her furiously, and Agnes glided between him andthe girl, fearful lest he should spring up and insult her. But sheaddressed her words to Chaldea. "Why do you think I got Mr. Lambert tokill my husband?" she asked, wincing at having to put the question, butseeing that it was extremely necessary to learn all she could from thegypsy. 

The other woman drew her shawl closely round her fine form and snappedher fingers contemptuously. "It needs no chovihani to tell. Hearne theRomany was poor, Pine the Gentile chinked gold in his pockets. Says youto yourself, 'He I love isn't him with money. ' And says you, 'If I don'tget my true rom, the beauty of the world will clasp him to her breast. 'So you goes for to get Hearne out of the flesh, to wed the rye here onmy brother's rich possessions. Avali, " she nodded vigorously. "That isso, though 'No' you says to me, for wisdom. Red money you have gained, my daring sister, for the blood of a Romany chal has changed the color. But I'm no--"

How long she would have continued to rage at Lady Agnes it is impossibleto say, for the invalid, with the artificial strength of furious anger, sprang from his chair to turn her out of the room. Chaldea dodged him inthe alert way of a wild animal. 

"That's no love-embrace, my rye, " she jibed, retreating swiftly. "Later, later, when the moon rises, my angel, " and she slipped deftly throughthe door with a contemptuous laugh. Lambert would have followed, butthat Agnes caught his arm, and with tears in her eyes implored him toremain. 

"But what can we do in the face of such danger?" she asked him when hewas quieter, and breaking down, she sobbed bitterly. 

"We must meet it boldly. Silver has the forged letter: he must bearrested. "

"But the scandal, Noel. Dare we--"

"Agnes, you are innocent: I am innocent. Innocence can dare all things. "

Both sick, both troubled, both conscious of the dark clouds around them, they looked at one another in silence. Then Lambert repeated his wordswith conviction, to reassure himself as much as to comfort her. 

"Innocence can dare all things, " said Lambert, positively. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A FRIEND IN NEED. 

It was natural that Lambert should talk of having Silver arrested, as inthe first flush of indignation at his audacious attempt to levyblackmail, this appeared the most reasonable thing to do. But when Agneswent back to The Manor, and the sick man was left alone to strugglethrough a long and weary night, the reaction suggested a more cautiousdealing with the matter. Silver was a venomous little reptile, and ifbrought before a magistrate would probably produce the letter which heoffered for sale at so ridiculous a price. If this was made public, Agnes would find herself in an extremely unpleasant position. Certainlythe letter was forged, but that would not be easy to prove. And even ifit were proved and Agnes cleared her character, the necessary scandalconnected with the publicity of such a defence would be both distressingand painful. In wishing to silence Silver, and yet avoid theinterference of the police, Lambert found himself on the horns of adilemma. 

Having readjusted the situation in his own mind, Lambert next day wrotea lengthy letter to Agnes, setting forth his objections to drasticmeasures. He informed her--not quite truthfully--that he hoped to be onhis feet in twenty-four hours, and then would personally attend to thematter, although he could not say as yet what he intended to do. Butfive out of the seven days of grace allowed by the blackmailer yetremained, and much could be done in that time. "Return to town andattend to your own and to your brother's affairs as usual, " concludedthe letter. "All matters connected with Silver can be left in my hands, and should he attempt to see you in the meantime, refer him to me. " Theepistle ended with the intimation that Agnes was not to worry, as thewriter would take the whole burden on his own shoulders. The widow feltmore cheerful after this communication, and went back to her town houseto act as her lover suggested. She had every belief in Lambert'scapability to deal with the matter. 

The young man was more doubtful, for he could not see how he was tobegin unravelling this tangled skein. The interview with Chaldea hadproved futile, as she was plainly on the side of the enemy, and to applyto Silver for information as to his intentions would merely result in arepetition of what he had said to Lady Agnes. It only remained to laythe whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclinedto go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake thejourney, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking forofficial assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, hewas too ill to leave the cottage. The worry he felt regarding Agnes'sperilous position told on an already weakened frame, and the invalidgrew worse instead of better. 

Finally, Lambert decided to risk a journey to the camp, which was not sovery far distant, and interview Mother Cockleshell. The old lady had nogreat love for Chaldea, who flouted her authority, and would not, therefore, be very kindly disposed towards the girl. The young manbelieved, in some vague way, that Chaldea had originated the conspiracywhich had to do with the letter, and was carrying her underhand plansto a conclusion with the aid of Silver. Mother Cockleshell, who was veryshrewd, might have learned or guessed the girl's rascality, and wouldassuredly thwart her aims if possible. Also the gypsy-queen wouldprobably know a great deal about Pine in his character of IshmaelHearne, since she had been acquainted with him intimately during theearly part of his life. But, whatever she knew, or whatever she did notknow, Lambert considered that it would be wise to enlist her on hisside, as the mere fact that Chaldea was one of the opposite party wouldmake her fight like a wild cat. And as the whole affair had to do withthe gypsies, and as Gentilla Stanley was a gypsy, it was just as well toapply for her assistance. Nevertheless, Lambert was quite in the dark, as to what assistance could be rendered. 

In this way the young man made his plans, only to be thwarted by theweakness of his body. He could crawl out of bed and sit before the fire, but in spite of all his will-power, he could not crawl as far as thecamp. Baffled in this way, he decided to send a note asking MotherCockleshell to call on him, although he knew that if Chaldea learnedabout the visit--which she was almost certain to do--she would be placedon her guard. But this had to be risked, and Lambert, moreover, believedthat the old woman was quite equal to dealing with the girl. However, Fate took the matter out of his hands, and before he could even writethe invitation, a visitor arrived in the person of Miss Greeby, whosuggested a way out of the difficulty, by offering her services. Matterscame to a head within half an hour of her presenting herself in thesitting-room. 

Miss Greeby was quite her old breezy, masculine self, and her presencein the cottage was like a breath of moorland air blowing through thelanguid atmosphere of a hot-house. She was arrayed characteristically ina short-skirted, tailor-made gown of a brown hue and bound with brownleather, and wore in addition a man's cap, dog-skin gloves, and heavylaced-up boots fit to tramp miry country roads. With her freshcomplexion and red hair, and a large frame instinct with vitality, shelooked aggressively healthy, and Lambert with his failing life feltquite a weakling beside this magnificent goddess. 

"Hallo, old fellow, " cried Miss Greeby in her best man-to-man style, "feeling chippy? Why, you do look a wreck, I must say. What's up?"

"The fever's up and I'm down, " replied Lambert, who was glad to see her, if only to distract his painful thoughts. "It's only a touch of malaria, my dear Clara. I shall be all right in a few days. "

"You're hopeful, I must say, Lambert. What about a doctor?"

"I don't need one. Mrs. Tribb is nursing me. "

"Coddling you, " muttered Miss Greeby, planting herself manfully in anopposite chair and crossing her legs in a gentlemanly manner. "Fresh airand exercise, beefsteaks and tankards of beer are what you need. DefyNature and you get the better of her. Kill or cure is my motto. "

"As I have strong reasons to remain alive, I shan't adopt yourprescription, Dr. Greeby, " said Lambert, dryly. "What are you doing inthese parts? I thought you were shooting in Scotland. "

"So I was, " admitted the visitor, frankly and laying her bludgeon--shestill carried it--across her knee. "But I grew sick of the sport. Knocked over the birds too easy, Lambert, so there was no fun. The birdsare getting as silly as the men. "

"Well, women knock them over easy enough. "

"That's what I mean, " said Miss Greeby, vigorously. "It's a rottenworld, this, unless one can get away into the wilds. "

"Why don't you go there?"

"Well, " Miss Greeby leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, anddandled the bludgeon with both hands. "I thought I'd like a change fromthe rough and ready. This case of Pine's rather puzzled me, and so I'mon the trail as a detective. "

Lambert was rather startled. "That's considerably out of your line, Clara. "

Miss Greeby nodded. "Exactly, and so I'm indulging in the novelty. Onemust do something to entertain one's self, you know, Lambert. It struckme that the gypsies know a lot more about the matter than they chose tosay, so I came down yesterday, and put up at the Garvington Arms in thevillage. Here I'm going to stay until I can get at the root of thematter. "

"What root?"

"I wish to learn who murdered Pine, poor devil. "

"Ah, " Lambert smiled. "You wish to gain the reward. "

"Not me. I've got more money than I know what to do with, as it is. Silver is more anxious to get the cash than I am. "

"Silver! Have you seen him lately?"

"A couple of days ago, " Miss Greeby informed him easily. "He's mysecretary now, Lambert. Yes! The poor beast was chucked out of hiscomfortable billet by the death of Pine, and hearing that I wanted someone to write my letters and run my errands, and act like a tame catgenerally, he applied to me. Since I knew him pretty well through Pine, I took him on. He's a cunning little fox, but all right when he's keptin order. And I find him pretty useful, although I've only had him as asecretary for a fortnight. "

Lambert did not immediately reply. The news rather amazed him, as it hadalways been Miss Greeby's boast that she could manage her own business. It was queer that she should have changed her mind in this respect, although she was woman enough to exercise that very feminineprerogative. But the immediate trend of Lambert's thoughts were in thedirection of seeking aid from his visitor. He could not act himselfbecause he was sick, and he knew that she was a capable person indealing with difficulties. Also, simply for the sake of something to doshe had become an amateur detective and was hunting for the trail ofPine's assassin. It seemed to Lambert that it would not be a bad idea totell her of his troubles. She would, as he knew, be only too willing toassist, and in that readiness lay his hesitation. He did not wish, ifpossible, to lie under any obligation to Miss Greeby lest she shoulddemand in payment that he should become her husband. And yet he believedthat by this time she had overcome her desires in this direction. Tomake sure, he ventured on a few cautious questions. 

"We're friends, aren't we, Clara?" he asked, after a long pause. 

"Sure, " said Miss Greeby, nodding heartily. "Does it need putting intowords?"

"I suppose not, but what I mean is that we are pals. " He used the wordwhich he knew most appealed to her masculine affectations. 

"Sure, " said Miss Greeby again, and once more heartily. "Real, honestpals. I never believed in that stuff about the impossibility of a manand woman being pals unless there's love rubbish about the business. Atone time, Lambert, I don't deny but what I had a feeling of that sortfor you. "

"And now?" questioned the young man with an uneasy smile. 

"Now it's gone, or rather my love has become affection, and that's quitea different thing, old fellow. I want to see you happy, and you aren'tnow. I daresay you're still crying for the moon. Eh?" she looked at himsharply. 

"You asked me that before when you came here, " said Lambert, slowly. "And I refused to answer. I can answer now. The moon is quite beyond myreach, so I have dried my tears. "

Miss Greeby, who was lighting a cigarette, threw away the match andstared hard at his haggard face. "Well, I didn't expect to hear that, now we know how the moon--"

"Call things by their right name, " interrupted Lambert, sharply. "Agnesis now a widow, if that's what you mean. "

"It is, if you call Agnes a thing. Of course, you'll marry her since thebarrier has been removed?"

"Meaning Pine? No! I'm not certain on that point. She is a rich widowand I'm a poor artist. In honor bound I can't allow her to lose hermoney by becoming my wife. "

Miss Greeby stared at the fire. "I heard about that beastly will, " shesaid, frowning. "Horribly unfair, I call it. Still, I believed that youloved the moon--well, then, Agnes, since you wish us to be plain--andwould carry her off if you had the pluck. "

"I have never been accused of not having pluck, Clara. But there'sanother thing to be considered, and that's honor. "

"Oh, bosh!" cried Miss Greeby, with boyish vigor. "You love her and sheloves you, so why not marry?"

"I'm not worth paying two million for, Clara. "

"You are, if she loves you. "

"She does and would marry me to-morrow if I would let her. Thehesitation is on my part. "

"More fool you. If I were in her position I'd soon overcome yourscruples. "

"I think not, " said Lambert delicately. 

"Oh, I think so, " she retorted. "A woman always gets her own way. "

"And sometimes wrecks continents to get it. "

"I'd wreck this one, anyhow, " said Miss Greeby dryly. "However, we'repals, and if there's anything I can do--"

"Yes, there is, " said Lambert abruptly, and making up his mind to trusther, since she showed plainly that there was no chance of love on herpart destroying friendship. "I'm sick here and can't move. Let me engageyou to act on my behalf. "

"As what, if you don't mind my asking, Lambert?"

"As what you are for the moment, a detective. "

"Ho!" said Miss Greeby in a guttural manner. "What's that?"

"I want you to learn on my behalf, and as my deputy, who murdered Pine. "

"So that you can marry Agnes?"

"No. The will has stopped my chances in that direction. Her two millionforms quite an insurmountable barrier between us now, as the fact of herbeing Pine's wife did formerly. Now you understand the situation, andthat I am prevented by honor from making her my wife, don't let us talkany more on that especial subject. "

"Right you are, " assented Miss Greeby affably. "Only I'll say this, thatyou are too scrupulous, and if I can help you to marry Agnes I shall doso. "

"Why?" demanded Lambert bluntly. 

"Because I'm your pal and wish to see you happy. You won't be happy, like the Pears soap advertisement, until you get it. Agnes is the 'it. '"

"Well, then, leave the matter alone, Clara, " said Lambert, taking theprivilege of an invalid and becoming peevish. "As things stand, I cansee no chance of marrying Agnes without violating my idea of honor. "

"Then why do you wish me to help you?" demanded Miss Greeby sharply. 

"How do I wish you to help me, you mean. "

"Not at all. I know what you wish me to do; act as detective; I knowabout it, my dear boy. "

"You don't, " retorted Lambert, again fractious. "But if you listen I'lltell you exactly what I mean. "

Miss Greeby made herself comfortable with a fresh cigarette, and noddedin an easy manner, "I'm all attention, old boy. Fire away!"

"You must regard my confidence as sacred. "

"There's my hand on it. But I should like to know why you desire tolearn who murdered Pine. "

"Because if you don't track down the assassin, Agnes will get intotrouble. "

"Ho!" ejaculated Miss Greeby, guttural again. "Go on. "

Lambert wasted no further time in preliminary explanations, but plungedinto the middle of things. In a quarter of an hour his auditor wasacquainted with the facts of a highly unpleasant case, but exhibited nosurprise when she heard what her secretary had to do with the matter. Infact, she rather appeared to admire his acuteness in turning such shadyknowledge to his own advantage. At the same time, she considered thatAgnes had behaved in a decidedly weak manner. "If I'd been in her shoesI'd have fired the beast out in double-quick time, " said Miss Greebygrimly. "And I'd have belted him over the head in addition. "

"Then he would have gone straight to the police. "

"Oh, no he wouldn't. One thousand reward against twenty-five thousandblackmail isn't good enough. "

"He won't get his blackmail, " said Lambert, tightening his lips. 

"You bet he won't now that I've come into the matter. But there's nodenying he's got the whip-hand so far. "

"Agnes never wrote the letter, " said Lambert quickly. 

"Oh, that goes without the saying, my dear fellow. Agnes knew that ifshe became a rich widow, your uneasy sense of honor would never let youmarry her. She had no reason to get rid of Pine on that score. "

"Or on any score, you may add. "

Miss Greeby nodded. "Certainly! You and Agnes should have got marriedand let Garvington get out of his troubles as best he could. That's whatI should have done, as I'm not an aristocrat, and can't see the use ofbecoming the sacrifice for a musty, fusty old family. However, Agnesmade her bargain and kept to it. She's all right, although other peoplemay be not of that opinion. "

"There isn't a man or woman who dare say a word against Agnes. "

"A good many will say lots of words, should what you have told me getinto print, " rejoined Miss Greeby dryly. 

"I agree with you. Therefore do I ask for your assistance. What is bestto be done, Clara?"

"We must get the letter from Silver and learn who forged it. Once thatis made plain, the truth will come to light, since the individual whoforged and sent that letter must have fired the second shot. "

"Quite so. But Silver won't give up the letter. "

"Oh, yes, he will. He's my secretary, and I'll make him. "

"Even as your secretary he won't, " said Lambert, dubiously. 

"We'll see about that, old boy. I'll heckle and harry and worry Silveron to the gallows if he doesn't do what he's told. "

"The gallows. You don't think--"

"Oh, I think nothing. It was to Silver's interest that Pine should live, so I don't fancy he set the trap. It was to Chaldea's interest that Pineshould not live, since she loves you, and I don't think she is to blame. Garvington couldn't have done it, as he has lost a good friend in Pine, and--and--go on Lambert, suggest some one else. "

"I can't. And two out of three you mention were inside The Manor whenthe second shot was fired, so can prove an alibi. "

"I'm not bothering about who fired the second shot, " said Miss Greebyleisurely, "but as to who wrote that letter. Once we find the forger, we'll soon discover the assassin. "

"True; but how are you going about it?"

"I shall see Silver and force him to give me the letter. "

"If you can. "

"Oh, I'll manage somehow. The little beast's a coward, and I'll bullyhim into compliance. " Miss Greeby spoke very confidently. "Then we'llsee the kind of paper the letter is written on, and there may be anenvelope which would show where it was posted. Of course, the forgermust be well acquainted with Agnes's handwriting. "

"That's obvious, " said Lambert promptly. "Well, I suppose that your wayof starting the matter is the best. But we have only four days beforeSilver makes his move. "

"When I get the letter he won't make any move, " reported Miss Greeby, and she looked very determined. 

"Let us hope so. But, Clara, before you return to town I wish you wouldsee Mother Cockleshell. "

"That old gypsy fortune-teller, who looks like an almshouse widow? Why?"

"She hates Chaldea, and I suspect that Chaldea has something to do withthe matter of this conspiracy. "

"Ha!" Miss Greeby rubbed her aquiline nose. "A conspiracy. Perhaps youmay be right. But its reason?"

Lambert colored. "Chaldea wants me to marry her, you know. "

"The minx! I know she does. I warned you against having her to sit foryou, Lambert. But there's no sense in your suggestion, my boy. It wasn'tany catch for her to get Pine killed and leave his wife free to marryyou. "

"No. And yet--and yet--hang it, " the young man clutched his hair indesperation and glared at the fire, "I can't see any motive. "

"Nor can I. Unless it is to be found in the City. "

"Gypsies are more lawless than City men, " observed the other quickly, "and Hearne would have enemies rather than Pine. "

"I don't agree with you, " said Miss Greeby, rising and getting ready togo away. "Hearne was nobody: Pine was a millionaire. Successful men haveenemies all over the shop. "

"At the inquest it was said that Pine had no enemies. "

"Oh, rubbish. A strong man like that couldn't make such a fortunewithout exciting envy. I'll bet that his assassin is to be found in afrock coat and a silk hat. However, I'll look up Mother Cockleshell, asit is just as well to know what she thinks of this pretty gypsy hussy ofyours. "

"Not of mine. I don't care for her in the least. "

"As if that mattered. There is always one who loves and one who isloved, as Heine says, and that is the cause of all life's tragedies. Ofthis tragedy maybe, although I think some envious stockbroker may haveshot Pine as a too successful financial rival. However, we shall seeabout it. "

"And see about another thing, Clara, " said Lambert quickly. "Call onAgnes and tell her that she need not worry over Silver. She expects theDeluge in a few days, remember. "

"Write and tell her that I have the case in hand and that she needn'ttrouble about Silver. I'll straighten him out. "

"I fear you are too hopeful. "

"I don't fear anything of the sort. I'll break his neck if he doesn'tobey me. I wouldn't hesitate to do it, either. "

Lambert ran his eyes over her masculine personality and laughed. "Iquite believe that, Clara. But, I say, won't you have some tea beforeyou go?"

"No, thanks. I don't eat between meals. "

"Afternoon tea is a meal. "

"Nonsense. It's a weakness. I'm not Garvington. By the way, where ishe?"

"In Paris, but he returns in a few days. "

"Then don't let him meddle with this matter, or he'll put things wrong. "

"I shall allow no one but yourself to meddle, Clara, Garvington shan'tknow a single thing. "

Miss Greeby nodded. "Right. All we wish kept quiet would be in thepapers if Garvington gets hold of our secrets. He's a loose-tonguedlittle glutton. Well, good-bye, old chap, and do look after yourself. Good people are scarce. "

Lambert gripped her large hand. "I'm awfully obliged to you, Clara. "

"Wait until I do something before you say that, old son, " she laughedand strode towards the door. "By the way, oughtn't I to send the doctorin?"

"No. Confound the doctor! I'm all right. You'll see me on my legs in afew days. "

"Then we can work together at the case. Keep your flag flying, old chap, for I'm at the helm to steer the bark. " And with this nautical farewellshe went off with a manly stride, whistling a gay tune. 

Left alone, the invalid looked into the fire, and wondered if he hadbeen right to trust her. After some thought, he concluded that it wasthe best thing he could have done, since, in his present helpless state, he needed some one to act as his deputy. And there was no doubt thatMiss Greeby had entirely overcome the passion she had once entertainedfor him. 

"I hope Agnes will think so also, " thought Lambert, when he began aletter to the lady. "She was always rather doubtful of Clara. "

CHAPTER XIV. 

MISS GREEBY, DETECTIVE. 

As Miss Greeby had informed Lambert, she intended to remain at theGarvington Arms until the mystery of Pine's death was solved. But herinterview with him necessitated a rearrangement of plans, since theincriminating letter appeared to be such an important piece of evidence. To obtain it, Miss Greeby had decided to return to London forthwith, inorder to compel its surrender. Silver would undoubtedly show fight, buthis mistress was grimly satisfied that she would be able to manage him, and quite counted upon gaining her end by bullying him into compliance. When in possession of the letter she decided to submit it to Agnes andhear what that lady had to say about it as a dexterous piece of forgery. Then, on what was said would depend her next move in the complicatedgame. Meanwhile, since she was on the spot and desired to gather allpossible evidence connected with Chaldea's apparent knowledge of thecrime, Miss Greeby went straight from Lambert's cottage to the gypsycamp. 

Here she found the community of vagrants in the throes of an election, or rather their excitement was connected with the deposition of GentillaStanley from the Bohemian throne, and the elevation of Chaldea. MissGreeby mixed with the throng, dispensed a few judicious shillings andspeedily became aware of what was going on. It appeared that Chaldea, being pretty and unscrupulous, and having gained, by cunning, awonderful influence amongst the younger members of the tribe, wasinsisting that she should be elected its head. The older men and women, believing wisely that it was better to have an experienced ruler than apretty figurehead, stood by Mother Cockleshell, therefore the camp wasdivided into two parties. Tongues were used freely, and occasionallyfists came into play, while the gypsies gathered round the tent of theold woman and listened to the duet between her and the younger aspirantto this throne of Brentford. Miss Greeby, with crossed legs and leaningon her bludgeon, listened to the voluble speech of Mother Cockleshell, which was occasionally interrupted by Chaldea. The oration was deliveredin Romany, and Miss Greeby only understood such scraps of it as washastily translated to her by a wild-eyed girl to whom she had given ashilling. Gentilla, less like a sober pew-opener, and more resemblingthe Hecate of some witch-gathering, screamed objurgations at the pitchof her crocked voice, and waved her skinny arms to emphasize her words, in a most dramatic fashion. 

"Oh, ye Romans, " she screeched vehemently, "are ye not fools to begulled by a babe with her mother's milk--and curses that it fedher--scarcely dry on her living lips? Who am I who speak, asses of thecommon? Gentilla Stanley, whose father was Pharaoh before her, and whocan call up the ghosts of dead Egyptian kings, with a tent for a palace, and a cudgel for a sceptre, and the wisdom of our people at the serviceof all. "

"Things have changed, " cried out Chaldea with a mocking laugh. "For oldwisdom is dead leaves, and I am the tree which puts forth the green ofnew truths to make the Gorgios take off their hats to the Romans. "

"Oh, spawn of the old devil, but you lie. Truth is truth and changesnot. Can you read the hand? can you cheat the Gentile? do you know thelaw of the Poknees, and can you diddle them as has money? Says you, 'Ican!' And in that you lie, like your mother before you. Bless yourwisdom"--Mother Cockleshell made an ironical curtsey. "Age must bowbefore a brat. "

"Beauty draws money to the Romans, and wheedles the Gorgios to part withred gold. Wrinkles you have, mother, and weak wits to--"

"Weak wits, you drab? My weakest wits are your strongest. 'Wrinkles, 'says you in your cunning way, and flaunts your brazen smoothness. I spiton you for a fool. " The old woman suited her action to the word. "Everywrinkle is the mark of lessons learned, and them is wisdom which theRomans take from my mouth. "

"Hear the witchly hag, " cried Chaldea in her turn. "She and her mustywisdom that puts the Romans under the feet of the Gentiles. Are notthree of our brothers in choky? have we not been turned off common andout of field? Isn't the fire low and the pot empty, and every pursewithout gold? Bad luck she has brought us, " snarled the girl, pointingan accusing finger. "And bad luck we Romans will have till she is turnedfrom the camp. "

"Like a dog you would send me away, " shrieked Mother Cockleshell, glancing round and seeing that Chaldea's supporters outnumbered her own. "But I'm dangerous, and go I shall as a queen should, at my own freewill. I cast a shoe amongst you, "--she flung one of her own, hastilysnatched off her foot--"and curses gather round it. Under its heelsshall you lie, ye Romans, till time again and time once more beaccomplished. I go on my own, " she turned and walked to the door of hertent. "Alone I go to cheat the Gentiles and win my food. Take your newqueen, and with her sorrow and starvation, prison, and the kicks of theGorgios. So it is, as I have said, and so it shall be. "

She vanished into the tent, and the older members of the tribe, shakingtheir heads over the ill-omen of her concluding words, withdrewsorrowfully to their various habitations, in order to discuss thesituation. But the young men and women bowed down before Chaldea andforthwith elected her their ruler, fawning on her, kissing her hands andinvoking blessings on her pretty face, that face which they hoped andbelieved would bring prosperity to them. And there was no doubt that oflate, under Mother Cockleshell's leadership, the tribe had beenunfortunate in many ways. It was for this reason that Chaldea had raisedthe standard of rebellion, and for this reason also she gained hertriumph. To celebrate her coronation she gave Kara, who hoveredconstantly at her elbow, a couple of sovereigns, and told him to buyfood and drink. In a high state of enjoyment the gypsies dispersed inorder to prepare for the forthcoming festivity, and Chaldea, weary butvictorious, stood alone by the steps of the caravan, which was herperambulating home. Seizing her opportunity, Miss Greeby approached. 

"My congratulations to your majesty, " she said ironically. "I'm sorrynot to be able to stay for your coronation, which I presume takes placeto-night. But I have to go back to London to see a friend of yours. "

"I have no friends, my Gentile lady, " retorted Chaldea, with a fieryspark in each eye. "And what do you here amongst the gentle Romany?"

"Gentle, " Miss Greeby chuckled, "that's a new word for the row that'sbeen going on, my girl. Do you know me?"

"As I know the road and the tent and the art of dukkerhin. You stay atthe big house, and you love the rye who lived in the wood. "

"Very clever of you to guess that, " said Miss Greeby coolly, "but as ithappens, you are wrong. The rye is not for me and not for you. Hemarries the lady he worships on his knees. Forgive me for speaking inthis high-flowing manner, " ended Miss Greeby apologetically, "but inromantic situations one must speak romantic words. "

Chaldea did not pay attention to the greater part of this speech, asonly one statement appealed to her. "The rye shall not marry the Gentilelady, " she said between her white teeth. 

"Oh, I think so, Chaldea. Your plotting has all been in vain. "

"My plotting. What do you know of that?"

"A certain portion, my girl, and I'm going to know more when I seeSilver. "

Chaldea frowned darkly. "I know nothing of him. "

"I think you do, since you gave him a certain letter. "

"Patchessa tu adove?" asked Chaldea scornfully; then, seeing that hervisitor did not understand her, explained: "Do you believe in that?"

"Yes, " said Miss Greeby alertly. "You found the letter in Pine's tentwhen he was camping here as Hearne, and passed it to Silver so that hemight ask money for it. "

"It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I ask no money. I told the tiny rye--"

"Silver, I presume, " put in Miss Greeby carelessly. 

"Aye: Silver is his name, and a good one for him as has no gold. "

"He will get gold from Lady Agnes for the letter. "

"No. Drodi--ah bah!" broke off Chaldea. "You don't understand Romanes. Ispeak the Gorgio tongue to such as you. Listen! I found the letter whichlured my brother to his death. The rani wrote that letter, and I gave itto the tiny rye, saying: 'Tell her if she gives up the big rye free sheshall go; if not take the letter to those who deal in the law. '"

"The police, I suppose you mean, " said Miss Greeby coolly. "A verypretty scheme, my good girl. But it won't do, you know. Lady Agnes neverwrote that letter, and had nothing to do with the death of her husband. "

"She set a trap for him, " cried Chaldea fiercely, "and Hearne walkedinto it like a rabbit into a snare. The big rye waited outside andshot--"

"That's a lie, " interrupted Miss Greeby just as fiercely, and determinedto defend her friend. "He would not do such a thing. "

"Ha! but I can prove it, and will when the time is ripe. He becomes myrom does the big rye, or round his neck goes the rope; and she danceslong-side, I swear. "

"What a bloodthirsty idea, you savage devil! And how do you propose toprove that Mr. Lambert shot the man?"

"Aha, " sneered Chaldea contemptuously, "you take me for a fool, saying more than I can do. But know this, my precious angel"--shefumbled in her pocket and brought out a more or less formless pieceof lead--"what's this, may I ask? The bullet which passed throughHearne's heart, and buried itself in a tree-trunk. "

Miss Greeby made a snatch at the article, but Chaldea was too quick forher and slipped it again into her pocket. "You can't prove that it isthe bullet, " snapped Miss Greeby glaring, for she dreaded lest itsproduction should incriminate Lambert, innocent though she believed himto be. 

"Kara can prove it. He went to where Hearne was shot and saw that therewas a big tree by the blue door, and before the shrubbery. A shot firedfrom behind the bushes would by chance strike the tree. The bullet whichkilled my brother was not found in the heart. It passed through and wasin the tree-trunk. Kara knifed it out and brought it to me. If this, "Chaldea held up the bullet again jeeringly, "fits the pistol of the bigrye he will swing for sure. The letter hangs her and the bullet hangshim. I want my price. "

"You won't get it, then, " said Miss Greeby, eyeing the pocket intowhich the girl had again dropped the bullet. "Mr. Lambert was absent inLondon on that night. I heard that by chance. "

"Then you heard wrong, my Gentile lady. Avali, quite wrong. The big ryereturned on that very night and went to Lundra again in the morning. "

"Even if he did, " said Miss Greeby desperately, "he did not leave thecottage. His housekeeper can prove--"

"Nothing, " snapped Chaldea triumphantly. "She was in her bed and thegolden rye was in his bed. My brother was killed after midnight, and ifthe rye took a walk then, who can say where he was?"

"You have to prove all this, you know. "

Chaldea snapped her fingers. "First, the letter to shame her; then thebullet to hang him. The rest comes after. My price, you know, myGorgious artful. I toves my own gad. It's a good proverb, lady, and trueRomany. "

"What does it mean?"

"I wash my own shirt, " said Chaldea, significantly, and sprang up thesteps of her gaily-painted caravan to shut herself in. 

"What a fool I am not to take that bullet from her, " thought MissGreeby, standing irresolutely before the vehicle, and she cast a glancearound to see if such an idea was feasible. It was not, as she speedilydecided, for a single cry from Chaldea would bring the gypsies round toprotect their new queen. It was probable also that the girl would fightlike a wild cat; although Miss Greeby felt that she could manage her sofar. But she was not equal to fighting the whole camp of vagrants, andso was compelled to abandon her scheme. In a somewhat discontented mood, she turned away, feeling that, so far, Chaldea had the whip-hand. 

Then it occurred to her that she had not yet examined Mother Cockleshellas had been her original intention when she came to the camp. Forthwithshe passed back to the tent under the elm, to interview the deposedqueen. Here, she found Gentilla Stanley placing her goods in an untidybundle on the back of a large gray donkey, which was her privateproperty. The old creature's eyes were red with weeping and her grayhair had fallen down, so that she presented a somewhat wild appearance. This, in connection with her employment, reminded Miss Greeby--whosereading was wide--of a similar scene in Borrow's "Lavengro, " when Mrs. Pentulengro's mother shifted herself. And for the moment MotherCockleshell had just the hairy looks of Mrs. Hern, and also at themoment, probably had the same amiable feelings. 

Feeling that the old woman detested her successful rival, Miss Greebyapproached, guessing that now was the right moment to work on her mind, and thus to learn what she could of Chaldea's underhand doings. Shequite expected a snub, as Gentilla could scarcely be expected to answerquestions when taken up with her own troubles. But the artful creature, seeing by a side-glance that Miss Greeby was a wealthy Gentile lady, dropped one of her almshouse curtseys when she approached, and bundledup her hair. A change passed over her withered face, and Miss Greebyfound herself addressing not so much a fallen queen, as a respectableold woman who had known better days. 

"And a blessing on your sweet face, my angel, " mumbled MotherCockleshell. "For a heart you have to feel for my sorrows. "

"Here is a sign of my feelings, " said Miss Greeby, handing over asovereign, for she rightly judged that the gypsy would only appreciatethis outward symbol of sympathy. "Now, what do you know of Pine'smurder?"

Mother Cockleshell, who was busy tying up the sovereign in a corner ofher respectable shawl, after biting it to make sure it was current gold, looked up with a vacant expression. "Murder, my lady, and what should Iknow of that?"

Miss Greeby looked at her straightly. "What does Chaldea know of it?"

A vicious pair of devils looked out of the decent widow's eyes in amoment, and at once she became the Romany. "Hai! She knows, does she, the drab! I hope to see her hanged. "

"For what?"

"For killing of Hearne, may his bones rest sweetly. "

Miss Greeby suppressed an exclamation. "She accuses Lady Agnes of layinga trap by writing a letter, and says that Mr. Lambert fired the shot. "

"Avali! Avali!" Mother Cockleshell nodded vigorously, but did notinterrupt her preparations for departure. "That she would say, since sheloves the Gorgio, and hates the rani. A rope round her neck to set therye free to make Chaldea--my curses on her--his true wife. "

"She couldn't have fired the shot herself, you know, " went on MissGreeby in a musing manner. "For then she would remove an obstacle to Mr. Lambert marrying Lady Agnes. "

"Blessings on her for a kind, Gentile lady, " said Gentilla, piously, and looking more respectable than ever, since the lurking devils haddisappeared. "But Chaldea is artful, and knows the rye. "

"What do you mean?"

"This, my lady. Hearne, who was the Gorgio Pine, had the angel to wife, but he did not hope to live long because of illness. "

Miss Greeby nodded. "Consumption, Pine told me. "

"If he had died natural, " pursued Mother Cockleshell, pulling hard at astrap, "maybe the Gentile lady would have married the golden rye, whomshe loves. But by the violent death, Chaldea has tangled up both in herknots, and if they wed she will make trouble. "

"So she says. But can she?"

"Hai! But she's a deep one, ma'am, believe me when I say so, " MotherCockleshell nodded sapiently. "But foolish trouble has she givenherself, when the death of Hearne natural, or by the pistol-shot wouldstop the marriage. "

"What do you mean?" inquired Miss Greeby once more. 

"You Gentiles are fools, " said Gentilla, politely. "For you put otherthings before true love. Hearne, as Pine, had much gold, and that heleft to his wife should she not marry the golden rye. "

"How do you know that?"

"Chaldea was told so by the dead, and told me, my lady. Now the angel ofthe big house would give up the gold to marry the rye, for her heart isall for him. 'But, ' says he, and tell me if I'm wrong. Says he, 'No. IfI make you my romi that would beggar you and fair it would not be, for aRomany rye to do!' So, my lady, the red gold parts them, because it'sred money. "

"Red money?"

"Blood money. The taint of blood is on the wealth of the dead one, andso it divides by a curse the true hearts of the living. You see, mylady?"

Miss Greeby did see, and the more readily, since she had heard Lambertexpress exactly the sentiments with which the old gypsy credited him. An overstrained feeling of honor prevented him in any case from makingAgnes his wife, whether the death had come by violence or by naturalcauses. But it was amazing that Gentilla should know this, and MissGreeby wonderingly asked her how she came by such knowledge. Therespectable widow chuckled. 

"I have witchly ways, ma'am, and the golden rye has talked many a timeto me in my tent, when I told him of the Gorgious lady's goodness to mewhen ill. They love--aye, that is sure--but the money divides theirhearts, and that is foolish. Chaldea had no need to shoot to keep themapart. "

"How do you know she shot Pine?"

"Oh, I can say nothing the Poknees would listen to, " said MotherCockleshell readily. "For I speak only as I think, and not as I know. But the child was impatient for joy, and hoped by placing the cruel willbetween true hearts to gain that of the golden rye for her own part. Butthat she will not. Ha! Ha! Nor you, my lady, nor you. "

"Me?" Miss Greeby colored even redder than she was by nature. 

Gentilla looked at her shrewdly. "La! La! La! La!" she croaked. "Agebrings a mighty wisdom. They were fools to throw me out, " and she jerkedher grizzled head in the direction of the caravans and tents. 

"Don't talk rubbish, you old donkey! Mr. Lambert is only my friend. "

"You're a woman and he's a man, " said Mother Cockleshell sententiously. 

"We are chums, pals, whatever you like to call us. I want to see himhappy. "

"He will never be happy, my lady, unless he marries the rani. And death, by bringing the money between their true love, has divided them forever, unless the golden rye puts his heart before his fear of silly chatterfor them he moves amongst. The child was right to shoot Hearne, so far, although she could have waited and gained the same end. The rye is freeto marry her, or to marry you, ma'am, but never to marry the angel, unless--" Mother Cockleshell adjusted the bundle carefully on thedonkey, and then cut a long switch from the tree. 

"I don't want to marry Mr. Lambert, " said Miss Greeby decisively. "AndI'll take care that Chaldea doesn't!"

Gentilla chuckled again. "Oh, trust you for that. "

"As to Chaldea shooting Pine--"

"Leave it to me, leave it to me, ma'am, " said the old gypsy with agrandiloquent wave of her dirty hand. 

"But I wish to learn the truth and save Lady Agnes from this trouble. "

"You wish to save her?" chuckled Mother Cockleshell. "And not the goldenrye? Ah well, my angel, there are women, and women. " She faced round, and the humor died out of her wrinkled face. "You wish for help and sohave come to see me? Is it not so?"

"Yes, " said Miss Greeby tartly. "Chaldea will make trouble. "

"The child won't. I can manage her. "

Miss Greeby hitched up her broad shoulders contemptuously. "She hasmanaged you just now. "

"There are ways and ways, and when the hour arrives, the sun rises toscatter the darkness, " said Gentilla mystically. "Let the child win forthe moment, for my turn comes. "

"Then you know something?"

"What I know mustn't be said till the hour strikes. But contentyourself, my Gorgious lady, with knowing that the child will make notrouble. "

"She has parted with the letter?"

"I know of that letter. Hearne showed it to me, and would make for thebig house, although I told him fair not to doubt his true wife. "

"How did he get the letter?"

"That's tellings, " said Mother Cockleshell with a wink of her livelyeye. 

"I've a good mind to take you to the police, and then you'd be forcedto say what you know, " said Miss Greeby crossly, for the vague hintsirritated her not a little. 

The old woman cackled in evident enjoyment. "Do that, and the pot willboil over, ma'am. I wish to help the angel rani who nursed me when I wassick, and I have debts to pay to Chaldea. Both I do in my own witchlyway. "

"You will help me to learn the truth?"

"Surely! Surely! my Gorgious one. And now, " Mother Cockleshell gave atug at the donkey's mouth, "I goes my ways. "

"But where can I find you again?"

"When the time comes the mouth will open, and them as thinks they'rehigh will find themselves in the dust. Aye, and maybe lower, if six feetof good earth lies atop, and them burning in lime, uncoffined andunblessed. "

Miss Greeby was masculine and fearless, but there was something so weirdabout this mystic sentence, which hinted at capital punishment, that sheshrank back nervously. Mother Cockleshell, delighted to see that she hadmade an impression, climbed on to the gray donkey and made a progressthrough the camp. Passing by Chaldea's caravan she spat on it andmuttered a word or so, which did not indicate that she wished a blessingto rest on it. Chaldea did not show herself, so the deposed queen wasaccompanied to the outskirts of the wood by the elder gypsies, mourningloudly. But when they finally halted to see the last of MotherCockleshell, she raised her hand and spoke authoritatively. 

"I go and I come, my children. Forget not, ye Romans, that I say somuch. When the seed needs rain it falls. Sarishan, brothers and sistersall. " And with this strange speech, mystical to the last, she rode awayinto the setting sun, on the gray donkey, looking more like an almshousewidow than ever. 

As for Miss Greeby, she strode out of the camp and out of the Abbot'sWood, and made for the Garvington Arms, where she had left her baggage. What Mother Cockleshell knew, she did not guess; what Mother Cockleshellintended to do, she could not think; but she was satisfied that Chaldeawould in some way pay for her triumph. And the downfall of the girl wasevidently connected with the unravelling of the murder mystery. In awitchly way, as the old woman would have said herself, she intended toadjust matters. 

"I'll leave things so far in her hands, " thought Miss Greeby. "Now forSilver. "

CHAPTER XV. 

GUESSWORK. 

Whether Miss Greeby found a difficulty, as was probable, in gettingSilver to hand over the forged letter, or whether she had decided toleave the solution of this mystery to Mother Cockleshell, it isimpossible to say. But she certainly did not put in an appearance atLady Agnes Pine's town house to report progress until after the newyear. Nor in the meantime did she visit Lambert, although she wrote tosay that she induced the secretary to delay his threatened exposure. Theposition of things was therefore highly unsatisfactory, since theconsequent suspense was painful both to Agnes and her lover. And ofcourse the widow had been duly informed of the interview at the cottage, and naturally expected events to move more rapidly. 

However, taking the wise advice of Isaiah to "Make no haste in time oftrouble, " Agnes possessed her soul in patience, and did not seek outMiss Greeby in any way, either by visiting or by letter. She attended ather lawyers' offices to supervise her late husband's affairs, and hadfrequent consultations with Garvington's solicitors in connection withthe freeing of the Lambert estates. Everything was going on verysatisfactorily, even to the improvement of Lambert's health, so Agneswas not at all so ill at ease in her mind as might have been expected. Certainly the sword of Damocles still dangled over her head, and overthe head of Lambert, but a consciousness that they were both innocent, assured her inwardly that it would not fall. Nevertheless the beginningof the new year found her in anything but a placid frame of mind. Shewas greatly relieved when Miss Greeby at last condescended to pay her avisit. 

Luckily Agnes was alone when the lady arrived, as Garvington and hiswife were both out enjoying themselves in their several ways. The pairhad been staying with the wealthy widow for Christmas, and had not yettaken their departure, since Garvington always tried to live atsomebody's expense if possible. He had naturally shut up The Manorduring the festive season, as the villagers expected coals and blanketsand port wine and plum-puddings, which he had neither the money nor theinclination to supply. In fact, the greedy little man considered thatthey should ask for nothing and pay larger rents than they did. Bydeserting them when peace on earth and goodwill to men prevailed, orought to have prevailed, he disappointed them greatly and chuckled overtheir lamentations. Garvington was very human in some ways. 

However, both the corpulent little lord and his untidy wife were outof the way when Miss Greeby was announced, and Agnes was thankful thatsuch was the case, since the interview was bound to be an important one. Miss Greeby, as usual, looked large and aggressively healthy, bouncinginto the room like an india-rubber ball. Her town dress differed verylittle from the garb she wore in the country, save that she had afeather-trimmed hat instead of a man's cap, and carried an umbrella inplace of a bludgeon. A smile, which showed all her strong white teeth ina somewhat carnivorous way, overspread her face as she shook handsvigorously with her hostess. And Miss Greeby's grip was so friendly asto be positively painful. 

"Here you are, Agnes, and here am I. Beastly day, ain't it? Rain andrain and rain again. Seems as though we'd gone back to Father Noah'stimes, don't it?"

"I expected you before, Clara, " remarked Lady Agnes rather hurriedly, and too full of anxiety to discuss the weather. 

"Well, I intended to come before, " confessed Miss Greeby candidly. "Only, one thing and another prevented me!" Agnes noticed that she didnot specify the hindrances. "It was the deuce's own job to get thatletter. Oh, by the way, I suppose Lambert told you about the letter?"

"Mr. Silver told me about it, and I told Noel, " responded Agnes gravely. "I also heard about your interview with--"

"Oh, that's ages ago, long before Christmas. I should have gone and seenhim, to tell about my experiences at the gypsy camp, but I thought thatI would learn more before making my report as a detective. By the way, how is Lambert, do you know?"

"He is all right now, and is in town. "

"At his old rooms, I suppose. For how long? I want to see him. "

"For an indefinite period. Garvington has turned him out of thecottage. "

"The deuce! What's that for?"

"Well, " said Agnes, explaining reluctantly, "you see Noel paid no rent, as Garvington is his cousin, and when an offer came along offering apound a week for the place, Garvington said that he was too poor torefuse it. So Noel has taken a small house in Kensington, and Mrs. Tribbhas been installed as his housekeeper. I wonder you didn't know thesethings. "

"Why should I?" asked Miss Greeby, rather aggressively. 

"Because it is Mr. Silver who has taken the cottage. "

Miss Greeby sat up alertly. "Silver. Oh, indeed. Then that explains whyhe asked me for leave to stay in the country. Said his health requiredfresh air, and that London got on his nerves. Hum! hum!" Miss Greebybit the handle of her umbrella. "So he's taken the Abbot's Wood Cottage, has he? I wonder what that's for?"

"I don't know, and I don't care, " said Agnes restlessly. "Of course Icould have prevented Garvington letting it to him, since he tried toblackmail me, but I thought it was best to see the letter, and tounderstand his meaning more thoroughly before telling my brother abouthis impertinence. Noel wanted me to tell, but I decided not to--in themeantime at all events. "

"Silver's meaning is not hard to understand, " said Miss Greeby, drilyand feeling in her pocket. "He wants to get twenty-five thousand poundsfor this. " She produced a sheet of paper dramatically. "However, I madethe little animal give it to me for nothing. Never mind what argumentsI used. I got it out of him, and brought it to show you. "

Agnes, paling slightly, took the letter and glanced over it withsurprise. 

"Well, " she said, drawing a long breath, "if I had not been certain thatI never wrote such a letter, I should believe that I did. My handwritinghas certainly been imitated in a wonderfully accurate way. "

"Who imitated it?" asked Miss Greeby, who was watching her eagerly. 

"I can't say. But doesn't Mr. Silver--"

"Oh, he knows nothing, or says that he knows nothing. All he swears tois that Chaldea found the letter in Pine's tent the day after hismurder, and before Inspector Darby had time to search. The envelope hadbeen destroyed, so we don't know if the letter was posted or deliveredby hand. "

"If I had written such a letter to Noel, " said Agnes quietly, "itcertainly would have been delivered by hand. "

"In which case Pine might have intercepted the messenger, " put in MissGreeby. "It couldn't have been sent by post, or Pine would not have gothold of it, unless he bribed Mrs. Tribb into giving it up. "

"Mrs. Tribb is not open to bribery, Clara. And as to the letter, I neverwrote it, nor did Noel ever receive it. "

"It was written from The Manor, anyhow, " said Miss Greeby bluntly. "Lookat the crest and the heading. Someone in the house wrote it, if youdidn't. "

"I'm not so sure of that. The paper might have been stolen. "

"Well. " Miss Greeby again bit her umbrella handle reflectively. "There'ssomething in that, Agnes. Chaldea told Mrs. Belgrove's fortune in thepark, and afterwards she came to the drawing-room to tell it again. Iwonder if she stole the paper while she was in the house. "

"Even if she did, an uneducated gypsy could not have forged the letter. "

"She might have got somebody to do so, " suggested Miss Greeby, nodding. 

"Then the somebody must be well acquainted with my handwriting, "retorted Lady Agnes, and began to study the few lines closely. 

She might have written it herself, so much did it resemble her style ofwriting. The terse communication stated that the writer, who signedherself "Agnes Pine, " would meet "her dearest Noel" outside the bluedoor, shortly after midnight, and hoped that he would have the motor atthe park gates to take them to London en route to Paris. "Hubert is sureto get a divorce, " ended the letter, "and then we can marry at once andbe happy ever more. "

It was certainly a silly letter, and Agnes laughed scornfully. 

"I don't express myself in that way, " she said contemptuously, andstill eyeing the writing wonderingly. "And as I respected my husband andrespect myself, I should never have thought of eloping with my cousin, especially from Garvington's house, when I had much better and saferchances of eloping in town. Had Noel received this, he would never havebelieved that I wrote it, as I assuredly did not. And a 'motor at thepark gates, '" she read. "Why not at the postern gate, which leads to theblue door? that would have been safer and more reasonable. Pah! I neverheard such rubbish, " and she folded up the letter to slip it into herpocket. 

Miss Greeby looked rather aghast. "Oh, you must give it back to me, " shesaid hurriedly. "I have to look into the case, you know. "

"I shall not give it back to you, " said Agnes in a determined manner. "It is in my possession and shall remain there. I wish to show it toNoel. "

"And what am I to say to Silver?"

"Whatever you like. You can manage him, you know. "

"He'll make trouble. "

"Now that he has lost this weapon"--Agnes touched her pocket--"hecan't. "

"Well"--Miss Greeby shrugged her big shoulders and stood up--"just asyou please. But it would be best to leave the letter and the case in myhands. "

"I think not, " rejoined Agnes decisively. "Noel is now quite well again, and I prefer him to take charge of the matter himself. "

"Is that all the thanks I get for my trouble?"

"My dear Clara, " said the other cordially, "I am ever so much obliged toyou for robbing Mr. Silver of this letter. But I don't wish to put youto any more trouble. "

"Just as you please, " said Miss Greeby again, and rather sullenly. "Iwash my hands of the business, and if Silver makes trouble you haveonly yourself to thank. I advise you also, Agnes, to see MotherCockleshell and learn what she has to say. "

"Does she know anything?"

"She gave me certain mysterious hints that she did. But she appears tohave a great opinion of you, my dear, so she may be more open with youthan she was with me. "

"Where is she to be found?"

"I don't know. Chaldea is queen of the tribe, which is still camped onthe outskirts of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell has gone away on herown. Have you any idea who wrote the letter?"

Agnes took out the forged missive again and studied it. "Not in theleast, " she said, shaking her head. 

"Do you know of any one who can imitate your handwriting?"

"Not that I know--oh, " she stopped suddenly and grew as white as thewidow's cap she wore. "Oh, " she said blankly. 

"What is it?" demanded Miss Greeby, on fire with curiosity. "Have youthought of any one?"

Agnes shook her head again and placed the letter in her pocket. "I canthink of no one, " she said in a low voice. 

Miss Greeby did not entirely believe this, as the sudden hesitation andthe paleness hinted at some unexpected thought, probably connected withthe forgery. However, since she had done all she could, it was best, asshe judged, to leave things in the widow's hands. "I'm tired of thewhole business, " said Miss Greeby carelessly. "It wouldn't do for me tobe a detective, as I have no staying power, and get sick of things. Still, if you want me, you know where to send for me, and at all eventsI've drawn Silver's teeth. "

"Yes, dear; thank you very much, " said Agnes mechanically, so thevisitor took her leave, wondering what was rendering her hostess soabsent-minded. A very persistent thought told her that Agnes had made adiscovery in connection with the letter, but since she would not impartthat thought there was no more to be said. 

When Miss Greeby left the house and was striding down the street, Agnesfor the third time took the letter from her pocket and studied everyline of the writing. It was wonderfully like her own, she thought again, and yet wondered both at the contents and at the signature. "I shouldnever have written in this way to Noel, " she reflected. "And certainlyI should never have signed myself 'Agnes Pine' to so intimate a note. However, we shall see, " and with this cryptic thought she placed theletter in her desk. 

When Garvington and his wife returned they found Agnes singularly quietand pale. The little man did not notice this, as he never took anyinterest in other people's emotions, but his wife asked questions towhich she received no answers, and looked at Agnes uneasily, when shesaw that she did not eat any dinner to speak of. Lady Garvington wasvery fond of her kind-hearted sister-in-law, and would have been glad toknow what was troubling her. But Agnes kept her worries to herself, andinsisted that Jane should go to the pantomime, as she had arranged withsome friends instead of remaining at home. But when Garvington moved toleave the drawing-room, after drinking his coffee, his sister detainedhim. 

"I want you to come to the library to write a letter for me, Freddy, "she said in a tremulous voice. 

"Can't you write it yourself?" said Garvington selfishly, as he was in ahurry to get to his club. 

"No, dear. I am so tired, " sighed Agnes, passing her hand across herbrow. 

"Then you should have kept on Silver as your secretary, " grumbledGarvington. "However, if it won't take long, I don't mind obliging you. "He followed her into the library, and took his seat at the writingtable. "Who is the letter to?" he demanded, taking up a pen in a hurry. 

"To Mr. Jarwin. I want him to find out where Gentilla Stanley is. It'sonly a formal letter, so write it and sign it on my behalf. "

"Like an infernal secretary, " sighed Garvington, taking paper andsquaring his elbows. "What do you want with old Mother Cockleshell?"

"Miss Greeby was here to-day and told me that the woman knows somethingabout poor Hubert's death. "

Garvington's pen halted for a moment, but he did not look round. "Whatcan she possibly know?" he demanded irritably. 

"That's what I shall find out when Mr. Jarwin discovers her, " saidAgnes, who was in a low chair near the fire. "By the way, Freddy, I amsorry you let the Abbot's Wood Cottage to Mr. Silver. "

"Why shouldn't I?" growled Garvington, writing industriously. "Noeldidn't pay me a pound a week, and Silver does. "

"You might have a more respectable tenant, " said Agnes scathingly. 

"Who says Silver isn't respectable?" he asked, looking round. 

"I do, and I have every reason to say so. "

"Oh, nonsense!" Garvington began to write again. "Silver was Pine'ssecretary, and now he's Miss Greeby's. They wouldn't have engaged himunless he was respectable, although he did start life as a paupertoymaker. I suppose that is what you mean, Agnes. I'm surprised at yournarrowness. "

"Ah, we have not all your tolerance, Freddy. Have you finished thatletter?"

"There you are. " Garvington handed it over. "You don't want me toaddress the envelope?"

"Yes, I do, " Agnes ran her eyes over the missive; "and you can add apostscript to this, telling Mr. Jarwin he can take my motor to look forGentilla Stanley if he chooses. "

Garvington did as he was asked reluctantly. "Though I don't see whyJarwin can't supply his own motors, " he grumbled, "and ten to one he'llonly put an advertisement in the newspapers. "

"As if Mother Cockleshell ever saw a newspaper, " retorted his sister. "Oh, thank you, Freddy, you are good, " she went on when he handed herthe letter in a newly addressed envelope; "no, don't go, I want to speakto you about Mr. Silver. "

Garvington threw himself with a growl into a chair. "I don't knowanything about him except that he's my tenant, " he complained. 

"Then it is time you did. Perhaps you are not aware that Mr. Silvertried to blackmail me. "

"What?" the little man grew purple and exploded. "Oh, nonsense!"

"It's anything but nonsense. " Agnes rose and went to her desk to get theforged letter. "He came to me a long time before Christmas and said thatChaldea found this, " she flourished the letter before her brother'seyes, "in Hubert's tent when he was masquerading as Hearne. "

"A letter? What does it say?" Garvington stretched out his hand. 

Agnes drew back and returned to her seat by the fire. "I can tell youthe contents, " she said coolly, "it is supposed to be written by me toNoel and makes an appointment to meet him at the blue door on the nightof Hubert's death in order to elope. "

"Agnes, you never wrote such a letter, " cried Garvington, jumping upwith a furious red face. 

His sister did not answer for a moment. She had taken the letter justwritten to Jarwin by Garvington and was comparing it with that whichMiss Greeby had extorted from Silver. "No, " she said in a strange voiceand becoming white, "I never wrote such a letter; but I should be gladto know why you did. "

"I did?" Garvington retreated and his face became as white as that ofthe woman who confronted him, "what the devil do you mean?"

"I always knew that you were clever at imitating handwriting, Freddy, "said Agnes, while the two letters shook in her grasp, "we used to make ajoke of it, I remember. But it was no joke when you altered that checkHubert gave you, and none when you imitated his signature to thatmortgage about which he told me. "

"I never--I never!" stammered the detected little scoundrel, holding onto a chair for support. "I never--"

"Spare me these lies, " interrupted his sister scornfully, "Hubert showedthe mortgage, when it came into his possession, to me. He admitted thathis signature was legal to spare you, and also, for my sake, hushed upthe affair of the check. He warned you against playing with fire, Freddy, and now you have done so again, to bring about his death. "

"It's a damned lie. "

"It's a damned truth, " retorted Agnes fiercely. "I got you to write theletter to Mr. Jarwin so that I might compare the signature to the one inthe forged letter. Agnes Pine in one and Agnes Pine in the other, bothwith the same twists and twirls--very, very like my signature and yetwith a difference that I alone can detect. The postscript about themotor I asked you to write because the word occurs in the forged letter. Motor and motor--both the same. "

"It's a lie, " denied Garvington again. "I have not imitated yourhandwriting in the letter to Jarwin. "

"You unconsciously imitated the signature, and you have written the wordmotor the same in both letters, " said Agnes decisively. "I suddenlythought of your talent for writing like other people when Clara Greebyasked me to-day if I could guess who had forged the letter. I laid atrap for you and you have fallen into it. And you"--she took a stepforward with fiery glance so that Garvington, retreating, nearly tumbledover a chair--"you laid a trap for Hubert into which he fell. "

"I never did--I never did!" babbled Garvington, gray with fear. 

"Yes, you did. I swear to it. Now I understand why you threatened toshoot any possible burglar who should come to The Manor. You learned, insome way, I don't know how, that Hubert was with the gypsies, and, knowing his jealous nature, you wrote this letter and let it fall intohis hands, so that he might risk being shot as a robber and a thief. "

"I--I--I--didn't shoot him, " panted the man brokenly. 

"It was not for the want of trying. You broke his arm, and probablywould have followed him out to inflict a mortal wound if your accomplicein the shrubbery had not been beforehand with you. "

"Agnes, I swear that I took Pine for a burglar, and I don't know whoshot him. Really, I don't!"

"You liar!" said Agnes with intense scorn. "When you posted youraccompl--"

She had no chance to finish the word, for Garvington broke in furiouslyand made a great effort to assert himself. "I had no accomplice. Whoshot Pine I don't know. I never wrote the letter; I never lured him tohis death; he was more good to me alive than dead. He never--"

"He was not more good to you alive than dead, " interrupted Lady Agnes inher turn. "For Hubert despised you for the way in which you tried totrick him out of money. He thought you little better than a criminal, and only hushed up your wickedness for my sake. You would have got nomore money out of him, and you know that much. By killing him you hopedthat I would get the fortune and then you could plunder me at yourleisure. Hubert was hard to manage, and you thought that I would beeasy. Well, I have got the money and you have got rid of Hubert. But Ishall punish you. "

"Punish me?" Garvington passed his tongue over his dry lips, and lookedas though in his terror he would go down on his knees to plead. 

"Oh, not by denouncing you to the police, " said his sistercontemptuously. "For, bad as you are, I have to consider our familyname. But you had Hubert shot so as to get the money through me, andnow that I am in possession I shall surrender it to the person namedin the sealed envelope. "

"No! No! No! No! Don't--don't--"

"Yes, I shall. I can do so by marrying Noel. I shall no longer considerthe financial position of the family. I have sacrificed enough, and Ishall sacrifice no more. Hubert was a good husband to me, and I was agood and loyal wife to him; but his will insults me, and you have mademe your enemy by what you have done. "

"I did not do it. I swear I did not do it. "

"Yes, you did; and no denial on your part will make me believeotherwise. I shall give you a few days to think over the necessity ofmaking a confession, and in any case I shall marry Noel. "

"And lose the money. You shan't!"

"Shan't!" Agnes stepped forward and looked fairly into his shifty eyes. "You are not in a position to say that, Freddy. I am mistress both ofthe situation and of Hubert's millions. Go away, " she pushed him towardthe door. "Take time to think over your position, and confess everythingto me. "

Garvington got out of the room as swiftly as his shaky legs could carryhim, and paused at the door to turn with a very evil face. "You daren'tsplit on me, " he screeched. "I defy you! I defy you! You daren't spliton me. "

Alas! Agnes knew that only too well, and when he disappeared she weptbitterly, feeling her impotence. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE LAST STRAW. 

Lady Agnes was inaccurate when she informed Miss Greeby that her cousinhad taken a house in Kensington, since, like many women, she wasaccustomed to speak in general terms, rather than in a precise way. Theyoung man certainly did live in the suburb she mentioned, but he hadsimply rented a furnished flat in one of the cheaper streets. He was thepoorest of all the Lamberts, and could scarcely pay his clubsubscriptions, much less live in the style his ancient name demanded. The St. James's chambers had merely been lent to him by a friend, andwhen the owner returned, the temporary occupant had to shift. Therefore, on the score of economy, he hired the dingy flat and brought up Mrs. Tribb to look after it. The little woman, on her master's account, wasdisgusted with the mean surroundings. 

"When you ought to be living in a kind of Buckingham Palace, MasterNoel, as I should declare with my dying breath, " she said indignantly. "And have the title, too, if things was as they ought to be. "

"I shouldn't be much better off if I did have the title, Mrs. Tribb, "replied Lambert with a shrug. "It's common knowledge that Garvington canscarcely keep his head above water. As an old family servant you shouldknow. "

"Ah, Master Noel, there's many things as I know, as I'm sorry I doknow, " said Mrs. Tribb incoherently. "And them lords as is dead andburied did waste the money, there's no denying. But some of yourcousins, Master Noel, have gone into trade and made money, more shame tothem. "

"I don't see that, Mrs. Tribb. I'd go into trade myself if I had anyhead for figures. There's no disgrace in trade. "

"Not for them as isn't Lamberts, Master Noel, and far be it from me tosay so, gentry not being so rich as they used to be when my mother was agal. I don't hold with it though for you, sir. But now Lady Agnes havingmillions and billions will make things easier for you. "

"Certainly not, Mrs. Tribb. How could I take money from her?"

"And why not, Master Noel? if you'll excuse my making so free. As achild she'd give you anything in the way of toys, and as a grown-up, herhead is yours if not her heart, as is--"

"There! there! Don't talk any more, " said Lambert, coloring and vexed. 

"I haven't annoyed you, sir, I hope. It's my heart as speaks. "

"I appreciate the interest you take in the family, Mrs. Tribb, but youhad better leave some things unsaid. Now, go and prepare tea, as LadyAgnes has written saying she will be here this afternoon. "

"Oh, Master Noel, and you only tell me now. Then there ain't time tocook them cakes she dotes on. "

But Lambert declined to argue further, and Mrs. Tribb withdrew, murmuring that she would have to make shift with sardine sandwiches. Hertongue was assuredly something of a nuisance, but the young man knew howdevoted she was to the family, and, since she had looked after him whenhe was a child, he sanctioned in her a freedom he would not havepermitted any one else to indulge in. And it is to be feared, that thelittle woman in her zeal sometimes abused her privileges. 

The sitting room was small and cramped, and atrociously furnished in anovercrowded way. There were patterns on the wall-paper, on the carpet, on the tablecloth and curtains, until the eye ached for a clean surfacewithout a design. And there were so many ill-matched colors, misused fordecorative purposes, that Lambert shuddered to the core of his artisticsoul when he beheld them. To neutralize the glaring tints, he pulleddown the blinds of the two windows which looked on to a dull suburbanroadway, and thus shut out the weak sunshine. Then he threw himself intoan uncomfortable arm-chair and sought solace in his briar root. Thefuture was dark, the present was disagreeable, and the past would notbear thinking about, so intimately did it deal with the murder of Pine, the threats of Silver, and the misery occasioned by the sacrifice ofAgnes to the family fetish. It was in the young man's mind to leaveEngland forthwith and begin a new life, unhampered by former troublesand present grievances. But Agnes required help and could not be left tostruggle unaided, so Lambert silently vowed again, as he had vowedbefore, to stand by her to the end. Yet so far he was unable to see whatthe end would be. 

While he thus contemplated the unpleasantness of life he became awarethat the front door bell was ringing, and he heard Mrs. Tribb hurryingalong the passage. So thin were the walls, and so near the door that heheard also the housekeeper's effusive welcome, which was cut short by agasp of surprise. Lambert idly wondered what caused the little woman'sastonishment, but speedily learned when Agnes appeared in the room. Withrare discretion Mrs. Tribb ushered in the visitor and then fled to thekitchen to wonder why the widow had discarded her mourning. "And himonly planted six months, as you might say, " murmured the puzzled woman. "Whatever will Master Noel say to such goings on?"

Master Noel said nothing, because he was too astonished to speak, andAgnes, seeing his surprise, and guessing its cause, waited, somewhatdefiantly, for him to make an observation. She was dressed in a graysilk frock, with a hat and gloves, and shoes to match, and drew off afur-lined cloak of maroon-colored velvet, when she entered the room. Herface was somewhat pale and her eyes looked unnaturally large, but shehad a resolute expression about her mouth, which showed that she hadmade up her mind. Lambert, swift, from long association, to read hermoods, wondered what conclusion she had arrived at, and proceeded toinquire. 

"Whatever is the meaning of this?" he demanded, considerably startled. 

"This dress?"

"Of course. Where is your widow's cap and--"

"In the fire, and there they can remain until they are burned to ashes. "

Lambert stared harder than ever. "What does it mean?" he asked again. 

"It means, " said Agnes, replying very directly, "that the victim is nolonger decked out for the sacrifice. It means, that as Hubert insultedme by his will, I no longer intend to consider his memory. "

"But, Agnes, you respected him. You always said that you did?"

"Quite so, until his will was read. Then when I found that his meanjealousy--which was entirely unreasonable--had arranged to rob me of myincome by preventing my marriage with you, I ceased to have any regardfor him. Hubert knew that I loved you, and was content to take me onthose terms so long as I was loyal to him. I _was_ loyal, and did whatI could to show him gratitude for the way in which he helped the family. Now his will has broken the bargain I respect him no longer, and forthat reason I refuse to pose any longer as a grieving widow. "

"I wonder, with these thoughts, that you posed at all, " said Lambertgloomily, and pushed forward a chair. 

"I could not make up my mind until lately what to do, " explained Agnes, sitting down gracefully, "and while I accepted his money it appeared tome that I ought to show his memory the outward respect of crape and allthe rest of it. Now, " she leaned forward and spoke meaningly, "I amresolved to surrender the money. That breaks the link between us. Thewill! the will!" she tapped an impatient foot on the carpet. "How couldyou expect any woman to put up with such an insult?"

Lambert dropped on the sofa and looked at her hard. "What's up?" heasked anxiously. "I never saw you like this before. "

"I was not free when you last saw me, " she replied dryly. 

"Oh, yes; you were a widow. "

"I mean free, in my own mind, to marry you. I am now. I don't intend toconsider the family or society, or Mr. Silver's threats, or anythingelse. I have shaken off my fetters; I have discarded my ring. " Sheviolently pulled off her glove to show that the circle of gold wasabsent. "I am free, and I thank God that I am free. "

"Agnes! Agnes! I can't reduce you to poverty by marrying you. It wouldnot be honorable of me. "

"And would it be honorable on my part for me to keep the money of a manI despise because his will insults me?" she retorted. 

"We argued all this before. "

"Yes, we did, and concluded to wait until we saw how the estates couldbe freed before we came to any conclusion. "

"And do you see now how the estates can be freed without using Pine'smoney, Agnes?" asked Lambert anxiously. 

"No. Things are ever so much worse than I thought. Garvington can holdout for another year, but at the end of twelve months the estates willbe sold up by the person whose name is in the sealed envelope, and hewill be reduced to some hundreds a year. The Lamberts!" she waved herarm dramatically, "are ruined, my dear; entirely ruined!"

"And for the simple reason that you wish us to place love before duty. "

Agnes leaned forward and took his hand firmly. "Noel, you love me?"

"Of course I do. "

"Do you love the family name better?"

"In one way I wish to save it, in another I am willing to let it gohang. "

"Yes. Those were my views until three or four days ago. "

"And what caused you to change your mind, dear?"

"A visit which Clara Greeby paid me. "

"Oh. " Lambert sat up very straight. "She hasn't been making mischief, has she?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, she has done both of us a great service. "

Lambert nodded thankfully. He felt doubtful as to whether Miss Greebyreally had meant to renounce her absurd passion for himself, and it wasa relief to find that she had been acting honestly. "Has she thenlearned who killed Pine?" he asked cautiously. 

Lady Agnes suddenly rose and began to pace the room, twisting her glovesand trying to control herself. Usually she was so composed that Lambertwondered at this restlessness. He wondered still more when she burstinto violent tears, and therefore hastened to draw her back to thechair. When she was seated he knelt beside her and passed his arm roundher neck, as distressed as she was. It was so unlike Agnes to break downin this way, and more unlike her to sob brokenly. "Oh, I'm afraid--I'mafraid. "

"Afraid of what, darling?"

"I'm afraid to learn who killed my husband. He might have done so, andyet he only fired the first shot--"

"Agnes, " Lambert rose up suddenly, "are you talking of Garvington?"

"Yes. " She leaned back and dried her tears. "In spite of what he says, I am afraid he may be guilty. "

Lambert's heart seemed to stand still. "You talk rubbish!" he criedangrily. 

"I wish it was. Oh, how I wish it was rubbish! But I can't be sure. Ofcourse, he may have meant what he says--"

"What does he say? Tell me everything. Oh, heavens!" Lambert clutchedhis smooth hair. "What does it all mean?"

"Ruin to the Lambert family. I told you so. "

"You have only told me scraps so far. I don't understand how you canarrive at the conclusion that Garvington is guilty. Agnes, don't go oncrying in so unnecessary a way. If things have to be faced, surely weare strong enough to face them. Don't let our emotions make fools of us. Stop it! Stop it!" he said sharply and stamping. "Dry your eyes andexplain matters. "

"I--I can't help my feelings, " faltered Agnes, beginning to respond tothe spur, and becoming calmer. 

"Yes, you can. I don't offer you brandy or smelling salts, or anythingof the sort, because I know you to be a woman with a firm mind. Exertyour will, and compel your nerves to be calm. This exhibition is toocheap. "

"Oh, " cried Agnes indignantly, and this feeling was the one Lambertwished to arouse, "how can you talk so?"

"Because I love you and respect you, " he retorted. 

She knew that he meant what he said, and that her firmness of mind andself-control had always appealed to him, therefore she made a greateffort and subdued her unruly nerves. Lambert gave her no assistance, and merely walked up and down the room while waiting for her to recover. It was not easy for her to be herself immediately, as she really wasshaken, and privately considered that he expected too much. But pridecame to her aid, and she gradually became more composed. MeanwhileLambert pulled up the blind to display the ugly room in all itsdeformity, and the sight--as he guessed it would--extorted anexclamation from her. 

"Oh, how can you live in this horrid place?" she asked irrelevantly. 

"Necessity knows no law. Are you better?"

"Yes; I am all right. But you are brutal, Noel. "

"I wouldn't have been brutal to a weaker woman, " he answered. "And byacting as I have done, I show how much I think of you. "

"Rather a strange way of showing approval. But your drastic methods havetriumphed. I am quite composed, and shall tell you of our disgrace in asunemotional a manner as if I were reckoning pounds, shillings andpence. "

"Disgrace?" Lambert fastened on the one word anxiously. "To us?"

"To Garvington in the first place. But sit down and listen. I shalltell you everything, from the moment Clara came to see me. "

Lambert nodded and resumed his seat. Agnes, with wonderful coolness, detailed Miss Greeby's visit and production of the letter. Thence shepassed on to explain how she had tricked Garvington into confession. "But he did not confess, " interrupted Lambert at this point. 

"Not at the moment. He did yesterday in a letter to me. You see, he leftmy house immediately and slept at his club. Then he went down to TheManor and sent for Jane, who, by the way, knows nothing of what I haveexplained. Here are two letters, " added Agnes, taking an envelope out ofher pocket. "One is the forged one, and the other came from Garvingtonyesterday. Even though he is not imitating my writing, you can see everynow and then the similarity. Perhaps there is a family resemblance inour caligraphy. " Her cousin examined the two epistles with a ratherscared look, for there was no doubt that things looked black against thehead of the family. However, he did not read Garvington's letter, butasked Agnes to explain. "What excuse does he make for forging yourname?" asked Lambert in a business-like way, for there was no need torage over such a worm as Freddy. 

"A very weak one, " she replied. "So weak that I scarcely believe him tobe in earnest. Besides, Freddy always was a liar. He declares that whenhe went to see about getting the gypsies turned off the land, he caughtsight of Hubert. He did not speak to him, but learned the truth fromMr. Silver, whom he forced to speak. Then he wrote the letter and let itpurposely fall into Mr. Silver's hands, and by Mr. Silver it was passedon to Hubert. Freddy writes that he only wanted to hurt Hubert so thathe might be laid up in bed at The Manor. When he was weak--Hubert, Imean--Freddy then intended to get all the money he could out of him. "

"He did not wish to kill Pine, then?"

"No. And all the evidence goes to show that he only broke Hubert's arm. "

"That is true, " murmured Lambert thoughtfully, "for the evidence of theother guests and of the servants showed plainly at the inquest that thesecond shot was fired outside while Garvington was indoors. "

Agnes nodded. "Yes; it really seems as though Freddy for once in hislife is telling the exact truth. "

Her cousin glanced at Garvington's lengthy letter of explanation. "Doyou really believe that he hoped to manage Pine during the illness?"

"Well, " said Agnes reluctantly, "Freddy has tremendous faith in hispowers of persuasion. Hubert would do nothing more for him since he wassuch a cormorant for money. But if Hubert had been laid up with a brokenarm, it is just possible that he might have been worried into doing whatFreddy wanted, if only to get rid of his importunity. "

"Hum! It sounds weak. Garvington certainly winged Pine, so that seems tocorroborate the statement in this letter. He's such a good shot that hecould easily have killed Pine if he wanted to. "

"Then you don't think that Freddy is responsible for the death?"inquired Agnes with a look of relief. 

Lambert appeared worried. "I think not, dear. He lured Hubert intohis own private trap so as to get him laid up and extort money. Unfortunately, another person, aware of the trap, waited outside andkilled your poor husband. "

"According to what Freddy says, Mr. Silver knew of the trap, since hedelivered the letter to Hubert. And Mr. Silver knew that Freddy hadthreatened to shoot any possible burglar. It seems to me, " ended Agnesdeliberately, "that Mr. Silver is guilty. "

"But why should he shoot Pine, to whom he owed so much?"

"I can't say. "

"And, remember, Silver was inside the house. "

"Yes, " assented Lady Agnes, in dismay. "That is true. It is a greatpuzzle, Noel. However, I am not trying to solve it. Clara says that Mr. Silver will hold his tongue, and certainly as the letter is now in mypossession he cannot bring forward any evidence to show that I aminculpated in the matter. I think the best thing to do is to let Freddyand Mr. Silver fight out the matter between them, while we are on ourhoneymoon. "

Lambert started. "Agnes! What do you mean?"

She grew impatient. "Oh, what is the use of asking what I mean when youknow quite well, Noel? Hubert insulted me in his will, and cast a sluron my character by forbidding me to marry you. Freddy--although he didnot fire the second shot--certainly lured Hubert to his death by forgingthat letter. I don't intend to consider my husband's memory any more, nor my brother's position. I shall never speak to him again if I canhelp it, as he is a wicked little animal. I have sacrificed myselfsufficiently, and now I intend to take my own way. Let the millions go, and let Freddy be ruined, if only to punish him for his wickedness. "

"But, dear, how can I ask you to share my poverty?" said Lambert, greatly distressed. "I have only five hundred a year, and you have beenaccustomed to such luxury. "

"I have another five hundred a year of my own, " said Agnes obstinately, "which Hubert settled on me for pin money. He refused to make any othersettlements. I have a right to that money, since I sacrificed so much, and I shall keep it. Surely we can live on one thousand a year. "

"In England?" inquired Lambert doubtfully. "And after you have led sucha luxurious life?"

"No, " she said quickly. "I mean in the Colonies. Let us go to Australia, or Canada, or South Africa, I don't care which, and cut ourselves offfrom the past. We have suffered enough; let us now think of ourselves. "

"But are we not selfish to let the family name be disgraced?"

"Freddy is selfish, and will disgrace it in any case, " said Agnes, witha contemptuous shrug. "What's the use of pulling him out of the mud, when he will only sink back into it again? No, Noel, if you love me youwill marry me within the week. "

"But it's so sudden, dear, " he urged, more and more distressed. "Taketime to consider. How can I rob you of millions?"

"You won't rob me. If you refuse, I shall make over the money to somecharity, and live on my five hundred a year. Remember, Noel, what peoplethink of me: that I married Hubert to get his money and to become yourwife when he died, so that we could live on his wealth. We can onlyprove that belief to be false by surrendering the millions and marryingas paupers. "

"You may be right, and yet--"

"And yet, and yet--oh, " she cried, wounded, "you don't love me. "

The man did not answer, but stood looking at her with all his soul inhis eyes, and shaking from head to foot. Never before had she looked sodesirable, and never before had he felt the tides of love surge to sohigh a Water-mark. "Love you!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Agnes, Iwould give my soul for you. "

"Then give it. " She wreathed her arms round his neck and whispered withher warm lips close to his ear, "Give me all of you. "

"But two millions--"

"You are worth it. "

"Darling, you will repent. "

"Repent!" She pressed him closer to her. "Repent that I exchange alonely life for companionship with you? Oh, my dear, how can you thinkso? I am sick of money and sick of loneliness. I want you, you, you!Noel, Noel, it is your part to woo, and here am I making all the love. "

"It is such a serious step for you to take. "

"It is the only step that I can take. I am known as a mercenary woman, and until we marry and give up the money, everybody will thinkscornfully of me. Besides, Freddy must be punished, and in no other waycan I make him suffer so much as by depriving him of the wealth hesinned to obtain. "

"Yes. There is that view, certainly. And, " Lambert gasped, "I loveyou--oh, never doubt that, my darling. "

"I shall, " she whispered ardently, "unless you get a special licenseand marry me straightaway. "

"But Garvington and Silver--"

"And Clara Greeby and Chaldea, who both love you, " she mocked. "Let themall fight out their troubles alone. I have had enough suffering; so haveyou. So there's no more to be said. Now, sir, " she added playfully, "wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?"

"Yes, " he said, opening his arms and gathering Agnes to his heart. "Butwhat will people say of your marrying so soon after Pine's death?"

"Let them say what they like and do what they like. We are going to theColonies and will be beyond reach of slanderous tongues. Now, let ushave tea, Noel, for I am hungry and thirsty, and quite tired out withtrying to convince you of my earnestness. "

Lambert rang for the tea. "Shall we tell Jarwin that we intend tomarry?"

"No. We shall tell no one until we are married, " she replied, and kissedhim once, twice, thrice, and again, until Mrs. Tribb entered with thetray. Then they both sat demurely at the first of many meals which theyhoped would be the start of a new Darby and Joan existence. 

And the outcome of the interview and of the decision that was arrived atappeared in a letter to Mr. Jarwin, of Chancery Lane. A week later hereceived a communication signed by Agnes Lambert, in which she statedthat on the preceding day she had married her cousin by special license. Mr. Jarwin had to read the epistle twice before he could grasp theastounding fact that the woman had paid two millions for a husband. 

"She's mad, crazy, silly, insane, " murmured the lawyer, then his eyeslighted up with curiosity. "Now I shall know the name of the person inthe sealed letter who inherits, " and he forthwith proceeded to his safe. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

ON THE TRAIL. 

Great was the excitement in society when it became known--through themedium of a newspaper paragraph--that Lady Agnes Pine had surrenderedtwo millions sterling to become Mrs. Noel Lambert. Some romantic peoplepraised her as a noble woman, who placed love above mere money, whileothers loudly declared her to be a superlative fool. But one and allagreed that she must have loved her cousin all the time, and thatclearly the marriage with the deceased millionaire had been forced onby Garvington, for family reasons connected with the poverty of theLamberts. It was believed that the fat little egotist had obtained hisprice for selling his sister, and that his estates had been freed fromall claims through the generosity of Pine. Of course, this was not thecase; but the fact was unknown to the general public, and Garvington wascredited with an income which he did not possess. 

The man himself was furious at having been tricked. He put it in thisway, quite oblivious to his own actions, which had brought about such aresult. He could not plead ignorance on this score, as Agnes had writtenhim a letter announcing her marriage, and plainly stating her reasonsfor giving up her late husband's fortune. She ironically advised him toseek out the person to whom the money would pass, and to see if he couldnot plunder that individual. Garvington, angry as he was, took theadvice seriously, and sought out Jarwin. But that astute individualdeclined to satisfy his curiosity, guessing what use he would make ofthe information. In due time, as the solicitor said, the name of thelucky legatee would be made public, and with this assurance Garvingtonwas obliged to be content. 

Meanwhile the happy pair--and they truly were extremely happy--heardnothing of the chatter, and were indifferent to either praise or blame. They were all in all to one another, and lived in a kind of Paradise, onthe south coast of Devonshire. On one of his sketching tours Lambert haddiscovered a picturesque old-world village, tucked away in a fold of themoorlands, and hither he brought his wife for the golden hours of thehoneymoon. They lived at the small inn and were attended to by agigantic landlady, who made them very comfortable. Mrs. "Anak, " as Noelcalled her, took the young couple for poor but artistic people, sinceAgnes had dropped her title, as unsuited to her now humble position. 

"And in the Colonies, " she explained to her husband, during a moorlandramble, "it would be absurd for me to be called 'my lady. ' Mrs. NoelLambert is good enough for me. "

"Quite so, dear, if we ever do go to the Colonies. "

"We must, Noel, as we have so little to live on. "

"Oh, one thousand a year isn't so bad, " he answered good-humoredly. "Itmay seem poverty to you, who have been used to millions, my darling; butall my life I have been hard up, and I am thankful for twenty pounds aweek. "

"You speak as though I had been wealthy all my life, Noel. But rememberthat I was as hard up as you before I married Hubert, poor soul. "

"Then, dear, you must appreciate the fact that we can never starve. Besides I hope to make a name as a painter. "

"In the Colonies?"

"Why not? Art is to be found there as in England. Change of scene doesnot destroy any talent one may possess. But I am not so sure, darling, if it is wise to leave England--at least until we learn who murderedPine. "

"Oh, my dear, do let us leave that vexed question alone. The truth willnever become known. "

"It must become known, Agnes, " said Lambert firmly. "Remember thatSilver and Chaldea practically accuse us of murdering your husband. "

"They know it is a lie, and won't proceed further, " said Agneshopefully. 

"Oh, yes, they will, and Miss Greeby also. "

"Clara! Why, she is on our side. "

"Indeed she is not. Your guess that she was still in love with me turnsout to be quite correct. I received a letter from her this morning, which was forwarded from Kensington. She reproaches me with marrying youafter the trouble she took in getting the forged letter back fromSilver. "

"But you told me that she said she would help you as a friend. "

"She did so, in order--to use an expressive phrase--to pull the woolover my eyes. But she intended--and she puts her intention plainly inher letter--to help me in order to secure my gratitude, and then shecounted upon my making her my wife. "

Agnes flushed. "I might have guessed that she would act in that way. When you told me that she was helping I had a suspicion what she wasaiming at. What else does she say?"

"Oh, all manner of things, more or less silly. She hints that I haveacted meanly in causing you to forfeit two millions, and says that noman of honor would act in such a way. "

"I see, " said Mrs. Lambert coolly. "She believed that my possession ofthe money would be even a greater barrier to our coming together thanthe fact of my being married to Hubert. Well, dear, what does itmatter?"

"A great deal, Agnes, " replied Noel, wrinkling his brows. "She intendsto make mischief, and she can, with the aid of Silver, who is naturallyfurious at having lost his chance of blackmail. Then there's Chaldea--"

"She can do nothing. "

"She can join forces with Miss Greeby and the secretary, and they willdo their best to get us into trouble. To defend ourselves we should haveto explain that Garvington wrote the letter, and then heaven only knowswhat disgrace would befall the name. "

"But you don't believe that Freddy is guilty?" asked Agnes anxiously. 

"Oh, no. Still, he wrote that letter which lured Pine to his death, andif such a mean act became known, he would be disgraced forever. "

"Freddy has such criminal instincts, " said Mrs. Lambert gloomily, "thatI am quite sure he will sooner or later stand in the dock. "

"We must keep him out of it as long as we can, " said Noel decisively. "For that reason I intend to leave you here and go to Garvington. "

"To see Freddy?"

"Yes, and to see Chaldea, and to call on Silver, who is living in my oldcottage. Also I wish to have a conversation with Miss Greeby. In someway, my dear, I must settle these people, or they will make trouble. Have you noticed, Agnes, what a number of gypsies seem to cross ourpath?"

"Yes; but there are many gypsies in Devonshire. "

"No doubt, but many gypsies do not come to this retired spot as a rule, and yet they seem to swarm. Chaldea is having us watched. "

"For what reason?" Agnes opened her astonished eyes. 

"I wish to learn. Chaldea is now a queen, and evidently has sentinstructions to her kinsfolk in this county to keep an eye on us. "

Agnes ruminated for a few minutes. "I met Mother Cockleshell yesterday, "she observed; "but I thought nothing of it, as she belongs toDevonshire. "

"I believe Mother Cockleshell is on our side, dear, since she is sograteful to you for looking after her when she was sick. But Kara hasbeen hovering about, and we know that he is Chaldea's lover. "

"Then, " said Mrs. Lambert, rising from the heather on which they hadseated themselves, "it will be best to face Mother Cockleshell and Karain order to learn what all this spying means. "

Lambert approved of this suggestion, and the two returned to Mrs. "Anak's" abode to watch for the gypsies. But, although they saw two orthree, or even more during the next few days, they did not set eyes onthe Servian dwarf, or on Gentilla Stanley. Then--since it never rainsbut it pours--the two came together to the inn. Agnes saw them throughthe sitting-room window, and walked out boldly to confront them. Noelwas absent at the moment, so she had to conduct the examination entirelyalone. 

"Gentilla, why are you spying on me and my husband?" asked Agnesabruptly. 

The respectable woman dropped a curtsey and clutched the shoulder ofKara, who showed a disposition to run away. "I'm no spy, my angel, " saidthe old creature with a cunning glint in her eyes. "It's this one whokeeps watch. "

"For what reason?"

"Bless you, my lady--"

"Don't call me by my title. I've dropped it. "

"Only for a time, my dear. I have read your fortune in the stars, myGorgio one, and higher you will be with money and rank than ever youhave been in past days. But not with the child's approval. "

"The child. What child?"

"Chaldea, no less. She's raging mad, as the golden rye has made you hisromi, my sweet one, and she has set many besides Kara to overlook you. "

"So Mr. Lambert and I thought. And Chaldea's reason?"

"She would make trouble, " replied Mother Cockleshell mysteriously. "ButKara does not wish her to love the golden rye--as she still does--sincehe would have the child to himself. " She turned and spoke rapidly inRomany to the small man in the faded green coat. 

Kara listened with twinkling eyes, and pulling at his heavy beard withone hand, while he held the neck of his violin with the other. WhenMother Cockleshell ceased he poured out a flood of the kalo jib withmuch gesticulation, and in a voice which boomed like a gong. Of course, Mrs. Lambert did not understand a word of his speech, and lookedinquiringly at Gentilla. 

"Kara says, " translated the woman hurriedly, "that he is your friend, since he is glad you are the golden rye's romi. Ever since you leftLundra the child has set him and others to spy on you. She makesmischief, does the child in her witchly way. "

"Ask him, " said Agnes, indicating the dwarf, "if he knows who murderedmy late husband?"

Gentilla asked the question and translated the reply. "He knows nothing, but the child knows much. I go back to the wood in Hengishire, my dear, to bring about much that will astonish Chaldea--curses on her evilheart. Tell the rye to meet me at his old cottage in a week. Then thewrong will be made right, " ended Mother Cockleshell, speaking quite inthe style of Meg Merrilees, and very grandiloquently. "And happinesswill be yours. By this and this I bless you, my precious lady, " makingseveral mystical signs, she turned away, forcing the reluctant Kara tofollow her. 

"But, Gentilla?" Agnes hurried in pursuit. 

"No! no, my Gorgious. It is not the time. Seven days, and seven hours, and seven minutes will hear the striking of the moment. Sarishan, mydeary. "

Mother Cockleshell hobbled away with surprising alacrity, and Mrs. Lambert returned thoughtfully to the inn. Evidently the old woman knewof something which would solve the mystery, else she would scarcely haveasked Noel to meet her in Hengishire. And being an enemy to Chaldea, whohad deposed her, Agnes was quite sure that Gentilla would work herhardest to thwart the younger gypsy's plans. It flashed across her mindthat Chaldea herself might have murdered Pine. But since his death wouldhave removed the barrier between Lambert and herself, Agnes could notbelieve that Chaldea was guilty. The affair seemed to become moreinvolved every time it was looked into. 

However, Mrs. Lambert related to her husband that same evening all thathad taken place, and duly delivered the old gypsy's message. Noellistened quietly and nodded. He made up his mind to keep the appointmentin Abbot's Wood the moment he received the intelligence. "And you canstay here, Agnes, " he said. 

"No, no, " she pleaded. "I wish to be beside you. "

"There may be danger, my dear. Chaldea will not stick at a trifle torevenge herself, you know. "

"All the more reason that I should be with you, " insisted Agnes. "Besides, these wretches are plotting against me as much as against you, so it is only fair that I should be on the spot to defend myself. "

"You have a husband to defend you now, Agnes. Still, as I know you willbe anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be bestfor us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I cancommunicate with you at once should it be necessary. "

"Of course it will be necessary, " said Mrs. Lambert with fondimpatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger. I don't wish to lose you now that we are together. "

"You can depend upon my keeping out of danger, for your sake, dear, "said the young man, caressing her. "Moreover, Mother Cockleshell willlook after me should Chaldea try any of her Romany tricks. Stay in town, darling. "

"Oh, dear me, that flat is so dingy, and lonely, and disagreeable. "

"You shan't remain at the flat. There's a very pleasant hotel near HydePark where we can put up. "

"It's so expensive. "

"Never mind the expense, just now. When everything is square we canconsider economy. But I shall not be easy in my mind until poor Pine'smurderer is in custody. "

"I only hope Garvington won't be found to be an accomplice, " said Agnes, with a shiver. "Bad as he is, I can't help remembering that he is mybrother. "

"And the head of the Lamberts, " added her husband gravely. "You may besure that I shall try and save the name from disgrace. "

"It's a dismal ending to our honeymoon. "

"Let us look upon it as the last hedge of trouble which has to bejumped. "

Agnes laughed at this quaint way of putting things, and cheered up. Forthe next few days they did their best to enjoy to the full the goldenhours of love, and peace which remained, and then departed, to theunfeigned regret of Mrs. "Anak. " But present pleasure meant futuretrouble, so the happy pair--and they were happy in spite of the loweringclouds--were forced to leave their temporary paradise in order to baffletheir enemies. Miss Greeby, Chaldea, Silver, and perhaps Garvington, were all arrayed against them, so a conflict could not possibly beavoided. 

Agnes took up her abode in the private hotel near the Park which Lamberthad referred to, and was very comfortable, although she did not enjoythat luxury with which Pine's care had formerly surrounded her. Havingseen that she had all she required, Noel took the train to Wanbury, andthence drove in a hired fly to Garvington, where he put up at thevillage inn. It was late at night when he arrived, so it might have beenexpected that few would have noted his coming. This was true, but amongthe few was Chaldea, who still camped with her tribe in Abbot's Wood. Whosoever now owned the property on mortgage, evidently did not desireto send the gypsies packing, and, of course, Garvington, not having thepower, could not do so. 

Thus it happened that while Lambert was breakfasting next morning, somewhere about ten o'clock, word was brought to him by the landladythat a gypsy wished to see him. The young man at once thought thatMother Cockleshell had called to adjust the situation, and gave ordersthat she should be admitted. He was startled and ill-pleased whenChaldea made her appearance. She looked as handsome as ever, but herface wore a sullen, vicious look, which augured ill for a peacefulinterview. 

"So you cheated me after all, rye?" was her greeting, and her eyessparkled with anger at the sight of the man she had lost. 

"Don't be a fool, girl, " said Lambert, purposely rough, for herpersistence irritated him. "You know that I never loved you. "

"Am I so ugly then?" demanded the girl bitterly. 

"That remark is beside the point, " said the man coldly. "And I am notgoing to discuss such things with you. But I should like to know why youset spies on me when I was in Devonshire?"

Chaldea's eyes sparkled still more, and she taunted him. "Oh, the cleverone that you are, to know that I had you watched. Aye, and I did, myrye. From the time you left the cottage you were under the looks of mypeople. "

"Why, may I ask?"

"Because I want revenge, " cried Chaldea, stepping forward and strikingso hard a blow on the table that the dishes jumped. "You scorned me, andnow you shall pay for that scorn. "

"Don't be melodramatic, please. What can you do to harm me, I shouldlike to know, you silly creature?"

"I can prove that you murdered my brother Hearne. "

"Oh, can you, and in what way?"

"I have the bullet which killed him, " said the gypsy, speaking very fastso as to prevent interruption. "Kara knifed it out of the tree-trunkwhich grows near the shrubbery. If I take it to the police and it fitsyour pistol, then where will you be, my precious cheat?"

Lambert looked at her thoughtfully. If she really did possess the bullethe would be able to learn if Garvington had fired the second shot, sinceit would fit the barrel of his revolver. So far as he was concerned, when coming to live in the Abbot's Wood Cottage, he had left all hisweapons stored in London, and would be able to prove that such was thecase. He did not fear for himself, as Chaldea's malice could not hurthim in this way, but he wondered if it would be wise to take her to TheManor, where Garvington was in residence, in order to test the fittingof the bullet. Finally, he decided to risk doing so, as in this way hemight be able to force the girl's hand and learn how much she reallyknew. If aware that Garvington was the culprit, she would exhibit nosurprise did the bullet fit the barrel of that gentleman's revolver. Andshould it be proved that she knew the truth, she would not dare to sayanything to the police, lest she should be brought into the matter, asan accomplice after the fact. Chaldea misunderstood his silence, whilehe was thinking in this way, and smiled mockingly with a toss of herhead. 

"Ah, the rye is afraid. His sin has come home to him, " she sneered. "Hai, you are at my feet now, my Gorgious one. "

"I think not, " said Lambert coolly, and rose to put on his cap. "Comewith me, Chaldea. We go to The Manor. "

"And what would I do in the boro rye's ken, my precious?"

Lambert ignored the question. "Have you the bullet with you?"

"Avali, " Chaldea nodded. "It lies in my pocket. "

"Then we shall see at The Manor if it fits the pistol. "

"Hai! you have left the shooter at the big house, " said the girl, falling into the trap, and thereby proved--to Lambert at least--that shewas really in the dark as regards the true criminal. 

"Lord Garvington has a revolver of mine, " said the young man evasively, although the remark was a true one, since he had presented his cousinwith a brace of revolvers some twelve months before. 

Chaldea looked at him doubtfully. "And if the bullet fits--"

"Then you can do what you like, " retorted Lambert tartly. "Come on. I can't wait here all day listening to the rubbish you talk. "

The gypsy followed him sullenly enough, being overborne by hisperemptory manner, and anxious, if possible, to bring home the crime tohim. What she could not understand, for all her cleverness, was, why heshould be so eager to condemn himself, and so went to The Manor on thelookout for treachery. Chaldea always judged other people by herself, and looked upon treachery as quite necessary on certain occasions. Hadshe guessed the kind of trap which Lambert was laying for her, it isquestionable if she would have fallen into it so easily. And Lambert, even at this late hour, could not be certain if she really regarded himas guilty, or if she was only bluffing in order to gain her ends. 

Needless to say, Garvington did not welcome his cousin enthusiasticallywhen he entered the library to find him waiting with Chaldea beside him. The fat little man rushed in like a whirlwind, and, ignoring his ownshady behavior, heaped reproaches on Lambert's head. 

"I wonder you have the cheek to come here, " he raged. "You and thisbeast of a girl. I want no gypsies in my house, I can tell you. Andyou've lost me a fortune by your selfish behavior. "

"I don't think we need talk of selfishness when you are present, Garvington. "

"Why not? By marrying Agnes you have made her give up the money. "

"She wished to give it up to punish you, " said Lambert rebukingly. 

"To punish me!" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of hishead. "And what have I done?"

Lambert laughed and shrugged his shoulders. In the face of this denseegotism, it was impossible to argue in any way. He dismissed the subjectand got to business, as he did not wish to remain longer in Garvington'ssociety than was absolutely necessary. 

"This girl, " he said abruptly, indicating Chaldea, who stood passivelyat his elbow, "has found the bullet with which Pine was shot. "

"Kara found it, my boro rye, " put in the gypsy quickly, and addressingLord Garvington, who gurgled out his surprises, "in the tree-trunk. "

"Ah, yes, " interrupted the other. "The elm which is near the shrubbery. Then why didn't you give the bullet to the police?"

"Do you ask that, Garvington?" inquired Lambert meaningly, and thelittle man whirled round to answer with an expression of innocentsurprise. 

"Of course I do, " he vociferated, growing purple with resentment. "Youdon't accuse me of murdering the man who was so useful to me, I hope?"

"I shall answer that very leading question when you bring out therevolver with which you shot Pine on that night. "

"I only winged him, " cried Garvington indignantly. "The second shot wasfired by some unknown person, as was proved clearly enough at theinquest. "

"All the same, I wish you to produce the revolver. "

"Why?" The host looked suspicious and even anxious. 

It was Chaldea who replied, and when doing so she fished out thebattered bullet. "To see if this fits the barrel of the pistol which thegolden rye gave you, my great one, " said she significantly. 

Garvington started, his color changed and he stole a queer look at theimpassive face of his cousin. "The pistol which the golden rye gave me?"he repeated slowly and weighing the words. "Did you give me one, Noel?"

"I gave you a couple in a case, " answered Lambert without mentioning thedate of the present. "And if this bullet fits the one you used--"

"It will prove nothing, " interrupted the other hurriedly, and with arestless movement. "I fired from the doorstep, and my bullet, afterbreaking Pine's arm, must have vanished into the beyond. The shot whichkilled him was fired from the shrubbery, and, it is quite easy to guesshow it passed through him and buried itself in the tree which was in theline of fire. "

"I want to see the pistols, " said Lambert insistently, and this timeChaldea looked at him, wondering why he was so anxious to condemnhimself. 

"Oh, very well, " snapped Garvington, with some reluctance, and walkedtoward the door. There he paused, and evidently awaited to arrive atsome conclusion, the nature of which his cousin could not guess. "Oh, very well, " he said again, and left the room. 

"He thinks that you are a fool, as I do, my Gorgious, " said Chaldeascornfully. "You wish to hang yourself it seems, my rye. "

"Oh, I don't think that I shall be the one to be hanged. Tell me, Chaldea, do you really believe that I am guilty?"

"Yes, " said the girl positively. "And if you had married me I shouldhave saved you. "

Lambert laughed, but was saved the trouble of a reply by the return ofGarvington, who trotted in to lay a mahogany case on the table. Openingthis, he took out a small revolver of beautiful workmanship. Chaldea, desperately anxious to bring home the crime to Lambert, hastily snatchedthe weapon from the little man's hand and slipped the bullet into one ofthe chambers. It fitted--making allowance for its batteredcondition--precisely. She uttered a cry of triumph. "So you did shootthe Romany, my bold one, " was her victorious speech. 

"Because the bullet fits the barrel of a revolver I gave to my cousinsome twelve months ago?" he inquired, smiling. 

Chaldea's face fell. "Twelve months ago!" she echoed, greatlydisappointed. 

"Yes, as Lord Garvington can swear to. So I could not have used theweapon on that night, you see. "

"I used it, " admitted Garvington readily enough. "And winged Pine. "

"Exactly. But I gave you a brace of revolvers of the same make. Thebullet which would fit one--as it does--would fit the other. I see thereis only one in the case. Where is the other?"

Garvington's color changed and he shuffled with his feet. "I lent it toSilver, " he said in a low voice, and reluctantly. 

"Was it in Silver's possession on the night Pine was shot?"

"Must have been. He borrowed it a week before because he fearedburglars. "

"Then, " said Lambert coolly, and drawing a breath of relief, for thetension had been great, "the inference is obvious. Silver shot HubertPine. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

AN AMAZING ACCUSATION. 

"Beng in tutes bukko!" swore Chaldea in good Romany, meaning that shewished the devil was in some one's body. And she heartily meant what shesaid, and cared little which of the two men's interior was occupied bythe enemy of mankind, since she hated both. The girl was disappointed tothink that Lambert should escape from her snare, and enraged thatGarvington's production of one revolver and his confession that Silverhad the other tended to this end. "May the pair of you burn in hell, "she cried, taking to English, so that they could understand the insult. "Ashes may you be in the Crooked One's furnace. "

Lambert shrugged his shoulders, as he quite understood her feelings, anddid not intend to lower himself by correcting her. He addressed himselfto his cousin and turned his back on the gypsy. "Silver shot HubertPine, " he repeated, with his eyes on Garvington's craven face. 

"It's impossible--impossible!" returned the other hurriedly. "Silver wasshut up in the house with the rest. I saw to the windows and doorsmyself, along with the butler and footmen. At the inquest--"

"Never mind about the inquest. I know what you said there, and I am nowbeginning to see why you said it. "

"What the devil do you mean?"

"I mean, " stated the other, staring hard at him, "that you knew Silverwas guilty when the inquest took place, and screened him for somereason. "

"I didn't know; I swear I didn't know!" stuttered Garvington, wiping hisheated face, and with his lower lip trembling. 

"You must have done so, " replied Lambert relentlessly. "This bullet willfit both the revolvers I gave you, and as you passed on one to Silver--"

"Rubbish! Bosh! Nonsense!" babbled the little man incoherently. "Untilyou brought the bullet I never knew that it would fit the revolver. "

This was true, as Lambert admitted. However, he saw that Garvington wasafraid for some reason, and pressed his advantage. "Now that you see howit fits, you must be aware that it could only have been fired from therevolver which you gave Silver. "

"I don't see that, " protested Garvington. "That bullet may fit manyrevolvers. "

Lambert shook his head. "I don't think so. I had that brace of revolversespecially manufactured, and the make is peculiar. I am quite preparedto swear that the bullet would fit no other weapon. And--and"--hehesitated, then faced the girl, who lingered, sullen and disappointed. "You can go, Chaldea, " said Lambert, pointing to the French window ofthe library, which was wide open. 

The gypsy sauntered toward it, clutching her shawl and gritting herwhite teeth together. "Oh, I go my ways, my rye, but I have not donewith you yet, may the big devil rack my bones if I have. You winto-day--I win to-morrow, and so good day to you, and curses on you fora bad one. The devil is a nice character--and that's you!" she screamed, beside herself with rage. "The puro beng is a fino mush, if you willhave the kalo jib!" and with a wild cry worthy of a banshee shedisappeared and was seen running unsteadily across the lawn. Lambertshrugged his shoulders again and turned to his miserable cousin, who hadsat down with a dogged look on his fat face. "I have got rid of herbecause I wish to save the family name from disgrace, " said Lambertquietly. 

"There is no disgrace on my part. Remember to whom you are speaking. "

"I do. I speak to the head of the family, worse luck! You have done yourbest to trail our name in the mud. You altered a check which Pine gaveyou so as to get more money; you forged his name to a mortgage--"

"Lies, lies, the lies of Agnes!" screamed Garvington, jumping up andshaking his fist in puny anger. "The wicked--"

"Speak properly of my wife, or I'll wring your neck, " said Lambertsharply. "As to what she told me being lies, it is only too true, as youknow. I read the letter you wrote confessing that you had lured Pinehere to be shot by telling falsehoods about Agnes and me. "

"I only lured him to get his arm broken so that I might nurse him whenhe was ill and get some money, " growled Garvington, sitting down again. 

"I am well aware of what you did and how you did it. But you gave thatforged letter to Silver so that it might be passed on to Pine. "

"I didn't! I didn't! I didn't! I didn't!"

"You did. And because Silver knew too much you gave him the Abbot's WoodCottage at a cheap rent, or at no rent at all, for all I know. To bequite plain, Garvington, you conspired with Silver to have Pine killed. "

"Winged--only winged, I tell you. I never shot him. "

"Your accomplice did. "

"He's not my accomplice. He was in the house--everything was locked up. "

"By you, " said Lambert quickly. "So it was easy for you to leave awindow unfastened, so that Silver might get outside to hide in theshrubbery. "

"Oh!" Garvington jumped up again, looking both pale and wicked. "Youwant to put a rope round my neck, curse you. "

"That's a melodramatic speech which is not true, " replied the othercoldly. "For I want to save you, or, rather, our name, from disgrace. I won't call in the police"--Garvington winced at this word--"becauseI wish to hush the matter up. But since Chaldea and Silver accuse meand accuse Agnes of getting rid of Pine so that we might marry, it isnecessary that I should learn the exact truth. "

"I don't know it. I know nothing more than I have confessed. "

"You are such a liar that I can't believe you. However, I shall go atonce to Silver and you shall come with me. "

"I shan't!" Garvington, who was overfed and flabby and unable to holdhis own against a determined man, settled himself in his chair andlooked as obstinate as a battery mule. 

"Oh, yes, you will, you little swine, " said Lambert freezingly cold. 

"How dare you call me names?"

"Names! If I called you those you deserved I should have to annex thevocabulary of a Texan muledriver. How such a beast as you ever got intoour family I can't conceive. "

"I am the head of the family and I order you to leave the room. "

"Oh, you do, do you? Very good. Then I go straight to Wanbury and shalltell what I have discovered to Inspector Darby. "

"No! No! No! No!" Garvington, cornered at last, sprang from his chairand made for his cousin with unsteady legs. "It might be unpleasant. "

"I daresay--to you. Well, will you come with me to Abbot's Wood?"

"Yes, " whimpered Garvington. "Wait till I get my cap and stick, curseyou, for an interfering beast. You don't know what you're doing. "

"Ah! then you do know something likely to reveal the truth. "

"I don't--I swear I don't! I only--"

"Oh, damn you, get your cap, and let us be off, " broke in Lambertangrily, "for I can't be here all day listening to your lies. "

Garvington scowled and ambled out of the room, closely followed by hiscousin, who did not think it wise to lose sight of so shifty a person. In a few minutes they were out of the house and took the path leadingfrom the blue door to the postern gate in the brick wall surrounding thepark. It was a frosty, sunny day, with a hard blue sky, overarching awintry landscape. A slight fall of snow had powdered the ground with afilm of white, and the men's feet drummed loudly on the iron earth, which was in the grip of the frost. Garvington complained of the cold, although he had on a fur overcoat which made him look like a baby bear. 

"You'll give me my death of cold, dragging me out like this, " he moaned, as he trotted beside his cousin. "I believe you want me to takepneumonia so that I may die and leave you the title. "

"I should at least respect it more than you do, " said Lambert withscorn. "Why can't you be a man instead of a thing on two legs? If youdid die no one would miss you but cooks and provision dealers. "

Garvington gave him a vicious glance from his little pig's eyes, andlonged to be tall, and strong, and daring, so that he might knock himdown. But he knew that Lambert was muscular and dexterous, and wouldprobably break his neck if it came to a tussle. Therefore, as the stoutlittle lord had a great regard for his neck, he judged it best to yieldto superior force, and trotted along obediently enough. Also he becameaware within himself that it would be necessary to explain to Silver howhe had come to betray him, and that would not be easy. Silver would becertain to make himself extremely disagreeable. Altogether the walk wasnot a pleasant one for the sybarite. 

The Abbot's Wood looked bare and lean with the leaves stripped from itsmany trees. Occasionally there was a fir, clothed in dark green foliage, but for the most part the branches of the trees were naked, and quiveredconstantly in the chilly breeze. Even on the outskirts of the wood onecould see right into the centre where the black monoliths--they lookedblack against the snow--reared themselves grimly. To the right there wasa glimpse of gypsy fires and tents and caravans, and the sound of theRomany tongue was borne toward them through the clear atmosphere. Onsuch a day it was easy both to see and hear for long distances, and forthis reason Chaldea became aware that the two men were walking towardthe cottage. 

The girl, desperately angry that she had been unable to bring Lambert tobook, had sauntered back to the camp, but had just reached it when shecaught sight of the tall figure and the short one. In a moment she knewthat Lambert and his cousin were making for Silver's abode, which wasjust what she had expected them to do. At once she determined to againadopt her former tactics, which had been successful in enabling her tooverhear the conversation between Lambert and Lady Agnes, and, followingat a respectful distance, she waited for her chance. It came when thepair entered the cottage, for then Chaldea ran swiftly in a circletoward the monoliths, and crouched down behind one. While peering frombehind this shelter, she saw Silver pass the window of the studio, andfelt certain that the interview, would take place in that room. Like aserpent, as she was, the girl crawled and wriggled through the frozenvegetation and finally managed to get under the window without beingobserved. The window was closed, but by pressing her ear close to thewoodwork she was enabled to hear a great deal, if not all. Candidlyspeaking, Chaldea had truly believed that Lambert had shot Pine, butnow that he had disproved the charge so easily, she became desperatelyanxious to learn the truth. Lambert had escaped her, but she thoughtthat it might be possible to implicate his wife in the crime, whichwould serve her purpose of injuring him just as well. 

Silver was not surprised to see his landlord, as it seemed thatGarvington paid him frequent visits. But he certainly showed an uneasyamazement when Lambert stalked in behind the fat little man. Silver wasalso small, and also cowardly, and also not quite at rest in hisconscience, so he shivered when he met the very direct gaze of hisunwelcome visitor. 

"You have come to look at your old house, Mr. Lambert, " he remarked, when the two made themselves comfortable by the studio fire. 

"Not at all. I have come to see you, " was the grim response. 

"That is an unexpected honor, " said Silver uneasily, and his eyes soughtthose of Lord Garvington, who was spreading out his hands to the blaze, looking blue with cold. He caught Silver's inquiring look. 

"I couldn't help it, " said Garvington crossly. "I must look aftermyself. "

Silver's smooth, foxy face became livid, and he could scarcely speak. When he did, it was with a sickly smile. "Whatever are you talkingabout, my lord?"

"Oh, you know, d---- you! I did give you that revolver, you know. "

"The revolver?" Silver stared. "Yes, why should I deny it? I suppose youhave come to get it back?"

"I have come to get it, Mr. Silver, " put in Lambert politely. "Hand itover to me, if you please. "

"If you like. It certainly has your name on the handle, " said thesecretary so quietly that the other man was puzzled. Silver did not seemto be so uncomfortable as he might have been. 

"The revolver was one of a pair which I had especially made when I wentto Africa some years ago, " explained Lambert elaborately, and determinedto make his listener understand the situation thoroughly. "On my returnI made them a present to my cousin. I understand, Mr. Silver, that LordGarvington lent you one--"

"And kept the other, " interrupted the man sharply. "That is true. I wasafraid of burglars, since Lord Garvington was always talking about them, so I asked him to lend me a weapon to defend myself with. "

"And you used it to shoot Pine, " snapped Garvington, anxious to end hissuspense and get the interview over as speedily as possible. 

Silver rose from his seat in an automatic manner, and turned delicatelypale. "Are you mad?" he gasped, looking from one man to the other. 

"It's all very well you talking, " whimpered Garvington with a shiver;"but Pine was shot with that revolver I lent you. "

"It's a lie!"

"Oh, I knew you'd say that, " complained Garvington, shivering again. "But I warned you that there might be trouble, since you carried thatletter for me, so that it might fall by chance into Pine's hands. "

"Augh!" groaned Silver, sinking back into his chair and passing histongue over a pair of dry, gray lips. "Hold your tongue, my lord. "

"What's the use? He knows, " and Garvington jerked his head in thedirection of his cousin. "The game's up, Silver--the game's up!"

"Oh!" Silver's eyes flashed, and he looked like a rat at bay. "So youintend to save yourself at my expense. But it won't do, my lord. Youwrote that letter, if I carried it to the camp. "

"I have admitted to my sister and to Lambert, here, that I wrote theletter, Silver. I had to, or get into trouble with the police, sinceneither of them will listen to reason. But you suggested the plan to getPine winged so that he might be ill in my house, and then we could bothget money out of him. You invented the plot, and I only wrote theletter. "

"Augh! Augh!" gulped Silver, unable to speak plainly. 

"Do you confess the truth of Lord Garvington's statement?" inquiredLambert suavely, and fixing a merciless eye on the trapped fox. 

"No--that is--yes. He swings on the same hook as I do. "

"Indeed. Then Lord Garvington was aware that you shot Pine?"

"I was not! I was not!" screamed the head of the Lambert family, jumpingup and clenching his hands. "I swear I never knew the truth until youbrought the bullet to the library to fit the revolver. "

"The--the--bullet!" stammered Silver, whose smooth red hair was almoststanding on end from sheer fright. 

"Yes, " said Lambert, addressing him sharply. "Kara, under the directionof Chaldea, found the bullet in the trunk of the elm tree which was inthe line of fire. She came with me to The Manor this morning, and wefound that it fitted the barrel of Lord Garvington's revolver. At theinquest, and on unimpeachable evidence, it was proved that he fired onlythe first shot, which disabled Pine without killing him. The secondshot, which pierced the man's heart, could only have come from thesecond revolver, which was, and is, in your possession, Mr. Silver. Thebullet found in the tree trunk will fit no other barrel of no otherweapon. I'm prepared to swear to this. "

Silver covered his face with his hands and looked so deadly white thatLambert believed he would faint. However, he pulled himself together, and addressed Garvington anxiously. "You know, my lord, that you lockedup the house on that night, and that I was indoors. "

"Yes, " admitted the other hesitating. "So far as I knew you certainlywere inside. It is true, Noel, " he added, catching his cousin's eye. "Even to save myself I must admit that. "

"Oh, you'd admit anything to save yourself, " retorted his cousincontemptuously, and noting the mistake in the wording of the sentence. "But admitting that Silver was within doors doesn't save you, so far asI can see. "

"There is no need for Lord Garvington to excuse himself, " spoke upSilver, attempting to enlist the little man on his side by defendinghim. "It was proved at the inquest, as you have admitted, Mr. Lambert, that he only fired the first shot. "

"And you fired the second. "

"I never did. I was inside and in bed. I only came down with the rest ofthe guests when I heard the firing. Is that not so, my lord?"

"Yes, " admitted Garvington grudgingly. "So far as I know you had nothingto do with the second shot. "

Silver turned a relieved face toward Lambert. "I shall confess thismuch, sir, " he said, trying to speak calmly and judicially. "Pinetreated me badly by taking my toy inventions and by giving me verylittle money. When I was staying at The Manor I learned that LordGarvington had also been treated badly by Pine. He said if we could getmoney that we should go shares. I knew that Pine was jealous of hiswife, and that you were at the cottage here, so I suggested that, asLord Garvington could imitate handwriting, he should forge a letterpurporting to come from Lady Agnes to you, saying that she intended toelope on a certain night. Also I told Lord Garvington to talk a greatdeal about shooting burglars, so as to give color to his shooting Pine. "

"It was arranged to shoot him, then?"

"No, it wasn't, " cried Garvington, glaring at Silver. "All we wanted todo was to break Pine's arm or leg so that he might be laid up in TheManor. "

"Yes, that is so, " said Silver feverishly, and nodding. "I fancied--andfor this reason I suggested the plot--that when Pine was ill, both LordGarvington and myself could deal with him in an easier manner. Also--since the business would be left in my hands--I hoped to take outsome money from various investments, and share it with Lord Garvington. We never meant that Pine should be killed, but only reduced to weaknessso that we might force him to give us both money. "

"A very ingenious plot, " said Lambert grimly and wondering how much ofthe story was true. "And then?"

"Then Lord Garvington wrote the letter, and when seeing Pine, I gave itto him saying that while keeping watch on his wife--as he asked me to, "said Silver with an emphasis which made Lambert wince, "I hadintercepted the letter. Pine was furious, as I knew he would be, andsaid that he would come to the blue door at the appointed time toprevent the supposed elopement. I told Lord Garvington, who was ready, and--"

"And I went down, pretending that Pine was a burglar, " said LordGarvington, continuing the story in a most shameless manner. "I openedthe door quite expecting to find him there. He rushed me, believing inhis blind haste that I was Agnes coming to elope with you. I shot him inthe arm, and he staggered away, while I shut the door again. Whether, onfinding his mistake, and knowing that he had met me instead of Agnes, heintended to go away, I can't say, as I was on the wrong side of thedoor. But Agnes, attracted to the window by the shot, declared--and youheard her declare it at the inquest, Noel--that Pine walked rapidly awayand was shot just as he came abreast of the shrubbery. That's all. "

"And quite enough, too, " said Lambert savagely. "You tricky pair ofbeasts; I suppose you hoped to implicate me in the crime?"

"It wasn't a crime, " protested Silver; "but only a way to get money. Bygoing up to London you certainly delayed what we intended to do, sincewe could not carry out our plan until you returned. You did for onenight, as Chaldea, who was on the watch for you, told us, and then weacted. "

"Did Chaldea know of the trap?"

"No! She knew nothing save that I"--it was Silver who spoke--"wanted toknow about your return. She found the letter in Pine's tent, and reallybelieved that Lady Agnes had written it, and that you had shot Pine. Itwas to force you by threats to marry her that she gave the letter tome. "

"And she instructed you to show it to the police, " said Lambert betweenhis teeth, "whereas you tried to blackmail Lady Agnes. "

"I had to make my money somehow, " said Silver insolently. "Pine was deadand Lady Agnes had the coin. "

"You were to share in the twenty-five thousand pounds, I suppose?"Lambert asked his cousin indignantly. 

"No; Silver blackmailed on his own. I hoped to get money from Agnes inanother way--as her hard-up brother that is. And if--"

"Oh, shut up! You make me sick, " interrupted Lambert, suppressing astrong desire to choke his cousin. "You are as bad as Silver. "

"And Silver is as innocent as Lord Garvington, " struck in thatgentleman, whose face was recovering its natural color. 

Lambert turned on him sharply. "I don't agree with that. You shot Pine!"

Silver sprang up with a hysterical cry. He had judged like Agag that thebitterness of death was past, but found that he was not yet safe. "I didnot shoot Pine, " he declared, wringing his hands. "Oh, why can't youbelieve me. "

"Because Garvington gave you the second revolver and with that--on theevidence of the bullet--Pine was murdered. "

"That might be so, but--but--" Silver hesitated, and shivered and lookedround with a hunted expression in his eyes. 

"But what? You may as well explain to me. "

"I shan't--I refuse to. I am innocent! You can't hurt me!"

Lambert brushed aside this puny rage. "Inspector Darby can. I shall goto Wanbury this evening and tell him all. "

"No; don't do that!" cried Garvington, greatly agitated. "Think ofme--think of the family!"

"I think of Justice! You two beasts aren't fit to be at large. I'm off, "and he made for the door. 

In a moment Silver was clutching his coat. "No, don't!" he screamed. "Iam innocent! Lord Garvington, say that I am innocent!"

"Oh, ---- you, get out of the hole as best you can! I'm in as big a messas you are, unless Lambert acts decently. "

"Decently, you wicked little devil, " said Lambert scornfully. "I onlypropose to do what any decent man would do. You trapped Pine by meansof the letter, and Silver shot him. "

"I didn't! I didn't!"

"You had the revolver!"

"I hadn't. I gave it away! I lent it!" panted Silver, crying withterror. 

"You lent it--you gave it--you liar! Who to?"

Silver looked round again for some way of escape, but could see none. "To Miss Greeby. She--she--she--she shot Pine. I swear she did. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

MOTHER COCKLESHELL. 

It was late in the afternoon when Lambert got back to the village inn, and he felt both tired and bewildered. The examination of Silver hadbeen so long, and what he revealed so amazing, that the young man wishedto be alone, both to rest and to think over the situation. It was a veryperplexing one, as he plainly saw, since, in the light of the newrevelations, it seemed almost impossible to preserve the name of thefamily from disgrace. Seated in his sitting room, with his legsstretched out and his hands in his pockets, Lambert moodily glared atthe carpet, recalling all that had been confessed by the foxy secretaryof Miss Greeby. That he should accuse her of committing the crime seemedunreasonable. 

According to Silver, the woman had overheard by chance the scheme tolure Pine to The Manor. Knowing that the millionaire was coming toAbbot's Wood, the secretary had propounded the plan to Garvington longbefore the man's arrival. Hence the constant talk of the host aboutburglars and his somewhat unnecessary threat to shoot any one who triedto break into the house. The persistence of this remark had roused MissGreeby's curiosity, and noting that Silver and his host were frequentlyin one another's company, she had seized her opportunity to listen. Forsome time, so cautious were the plotters, she had heard nothingparticular, but after her recognition of Hearne as Pine when she visitedthe gypsy camp she became aware that these secret talks were connectedwith his presence. Then a chance remark of Garvington's--he was alwaysloose-tongued--gave her the clue, and by threats of exposure she managedto make Silver confess the whole plot. Far from thwarting it she agreedto let them carry it out, and promised secrecy, only extracting apromise that she should be advised of the time and place for thetrapping of the millionaire. And it was this acquiescence of MissGreeby's which puzzled Lambert. 

On the face of it, since she was in love with him, it was better for herown private plans that Pine should remain alive, because the marriageplaced Agnes beyond his reach. Why, then, should Miss Greeby haveremoved the barrier--and at the cost of being hanged for murder? Lamberthad asked Silver this question, but had obtained no definite answer, since the secretary protested that she had not explained her reasons. Jokingly referring to possible burglars, she had borrowed the revolverfrom Silver which he had obtained from Garvington, and it was thisaction which first led the little secretary to suspect her. Afterward, knowing that she had met Pine in Abbot's Wood, he kept a close watch onher every action to see if she intended to take a hand in the game. ButSilver protested that he could see no reason for her doing so, and evenup to the moment when he confessed to Lambert could not conjecture whyshe had acted in such a manner. 

However, it appeared that she was duly informed of the hour when Pinewould probably arrive to prevent the pretended elopement, and alsolearned that he would be hanging about the blue door. When Silverretired for the night he watched the door of her bedroom--which was inthe same wing of the mansion of his own. Also he occasionally looked outto see if Pine had arrived, as the window of his room afforded a fairview of the blue door and the shrubbery. For over an hour--as he toldLambert--he divided his attention between the passage and the window. Itwas while looking out of the last, and after midnight, that he saw MissGreeby climb out of her room and descend to the ground by means of theivy which formed a natural ladder. Her window was no great height fromthe ground, and she was an athletic woman much given to exercise. Wondering what she intended to do, yet afraid--because of Pine'sexpected arrival--to leave the house, Silver watched her cautiously. Shewas arrayed in a long black cloak with a hood, he said, but in thebrilliant moonlight he could easily distinguish her gigantic form as sheslipped into the shrubbery. When Pine arrived, Silver saw him dash atthe blue door when it was opened by Garvington, and saw him fall backafter the first shot. Then he heard the shutting of the door;immediately afterward the opening of Lady Agnes's window, and noted thatPine ran quickly and unsteadily down the path. As he passed theshrubbery, the second shot came--at this point Silver simply gave thesame description as Lady Agnes did at the inquest--and then Pine fell. Afterward Garvington and his guests came out and gathered round thebody, but Miss Greeby, slipping along the rear of the shrubbery, doubledback to the shadow at the corner of the house. Silver, having to playhis part, did not wait to see her re-enter the mansion, but presumed shedid so by clambering up the ivy. He ran down and mingled with the guestsand servants, who were clustered round the dead man, and finally foundMiss Greeby at his elbow, artlessly inquiring what had happened. For thetime being he accepted her innocent attitude. 

Later on, when dismissed by Jarwin and in want of funds, he sought outMiss Greeby and accused her. At first she denied the story, but finally, as she judged that he could bring home the crime to her, she compromisedwith him by giving him the post of her secretary at a good salary. Whenhe obtained the forged letter from Chaldea--and she learned this fromLambert when he was ill--Miss Greeby made him give it to her, allegingthat by showing it to Agnes she could the more positively part the widowfrom her lover. Miss Greeby, knowing who had written the letter, countedupon Agnes guessing the truth, and had she not seen that it had enteredher mind, when the letter was brought to her, she would have given ahint as to the forger's name. But Agnes's hesitation and sudden palenessassured Miss Greeby that she guessed the truth, so the letter was leftto work its poison. Silver, of course, clamored for his blackmail, butMiss Greeby promised to recompense him, and also threatened if he didnot hold his tongue that she would accuse him and Garvington of themurder. Since the latter had forged the letter and the former hadborrowed the revolver which had killed Pine, it would have beentolerably easy for Miss Greeby to substantiate her accusation. As to hershare in the crime, all she had to do was to deny that Silver had passedthe borrowed revolver on to her, and there was no way in which he couldprove that he had done so. On the whole, Silver had judged it best tofall in with Miss Greeby's plans, and preserve silence, especially asshe was rich and could supply him with whatever money he chose to askfor. She was in his power, and he was in her power, so it was necessaryto act on the golden rule of give and take. 

And the final statement which Silver made to Lambert intimated thatGarvington was ignorant of the truth. Until the bullet was produced inthe library to fit the revolver it had never struck Garvington that theother weapon had been used to kill Pine. And he had honestly believedthat Silver--as was actually the case--had remained in his bedroom allthe time, until he came downstairs to play his part. As to Miss Greebybeing concerned in the matter, such an idea had never enteredGarvington's head. The little man's hesitation in producing therevolver, when he got an inkling of the truth, was due to his dread thatif Silver was accused of the murder--and at the time it seemed as thoughthe secretary was guilty--he might turn king's evidence to save hisneck, and explain the very shady plot in which Garvington had beenengaged. But Lambert had forced his cousin's hand, and Silver had beenbrought to book, with the result that the young man now sat in his roomat the inn, quite convinced that Miss Greeby was guilty, yet wonderingwhat motive had led her to act in such a murderous way. 

Also, Lambert wondered what was best to be done, in order to save thefamily name. If he went to the police and had Miss Greeby arrested, thetruth of Garvington's shady dealings would certainly come to light, especially as Silver was an accessory after the fact. On the other hand, if he left things as they were, there was always a chance that hintsmight be thrown out by Chaldea--who had everything to gain and nothingto lose--that he and Agnes were responsible for the death of Pine. Ofcourse, Lambert, not knowing that Chaldea had been listening to theconversation in the cottage, believed that the girl was ignorant of thetrue state of affairs, and he wondered how he could inform her that theactual criminal was known without risking her malignity. He wanted toclear his character and that of his wife; likewise he wished to save thefamily name. But it seemed to him that the issue of these things lay inthe hands of Chaldea, and she was bent upon injuring him if she could. It was all very perplexing. 

It was at this point of his meditation that Mother Cockleshell arrivedat the inn. He heard her jovial voice outside and judged from its tonethat the old dame was in excellent spirits. Her visit seemed to be ahint from heaven as to what he should do. Gentilla hated Chaldea andloved Agnes, so Lambert felt that she would be able to help him. As soonas possible he had her brought into the sitting room, and, having madeher sit down, closed both the door and the window, preparatory totelling her all that he had learned. The conversation was, indeed, animportant one, and he was anxious that it should take place withoutwitnesses. 

"You _are_ kind, sir, " said Mother Cockleshell, who had been suppliedwith a glass of gin and water. "But it ain't for the likes of me to besitting down with the likes of you. "

"Nonsense! We must have a long talk, and I can't expect you to stand allthe time--at your age. "

"Some Gentiles ain't so anxious to save the legs of old ones, " remarkedGentilla Stanley cheerfully. "But I always did say as you were a goldenone for kindness of heart. Well, them as does what's unexpected getswhat they don't hope for. "

"I have got my heart's desire, Mother, " said Lambert, sitting down andlighting his pipe. "I am happy now. "

"Not as happy as you'd like to be, sir, " said the old woman, speakingquite in the Gentile manner, and looking like a decent charwoman. "You've a dear wife, as I don't deny, Mr. Lambert, but money is whatyou want. "

"I have enough for my needs. "

"Not for her needs, sir. She should be wrapped in cloth of gold and havea path of flowers to tread upon. "

"It's a path of thorns just now, " muttered Lambert moodily. 

"Not for long, sir; not for long. I come to put the crooked straight andto raise a lamp to banish the dark. Very good this white satin is, " saidMother Cockleshell irrelevantly, and alluding to the gin. "And terbaccergoes well with it, as there's no denying. You wouldn't mind my taking awhiff, sir, would you?" and she produced a blackened clay pipe which hadseen much service. "Smoking is good for the nerves, Mr. Lambert. "

The young man handed her his pouch. "Fill up, " he said, smiling at theidea of his smoking in company with an old gypsy hag. 

"Bless you, my precious!" said Mother Cockleshell, accepting the offerwith avidity, and talking more in the Romany manner. "I allers did sayas you were what I said before you were, and that's golden, my Gorgiousone. Ahime!" she blew a wreath of blue smoke from her withered lips, "that's food to me, my dearie, and heat to my old bones. "

Lambert nodded. "You hinted, in Devonshire, that you had something tosay, and a few moments ago you talked about putting the crookedstraight. "

"And don't the crooked need that same?" chuckled Gentilla, nodding. "There's trouble at hand, my gentleman. The child's brewing witch'sbroth, for sure. "

"Chaldea!" Lambert sat up anxiously. He mistrusted the younger gypsygreatly, and was eager to know what she was now doing. 

"Aye! Aye! Aye!" Mother Cockleshell nodded three times like a veritableMacbeth witch. "She came tearing, rampagious-like, to the camp an houror so back and put on her fine clothes--may they cleave with pain to herskin--to go to the big city. It is true, rye. Kara ran by the side ofthe donkey she rode upon--may she have an accident--to Wanbury. "

"To Wanbury?" Lambert looked startled as it crossed his mind, and notunnaturally, that Chaldea might have gone to inform Inspector Darbyabout the conversation with Garvington in the library. 

"To Wanbury first, sir, and then to Lundra. "

"How can you be certain of that?"

"The child treated me like the devil's calls her, " said GentillaStanley, shaking her head angrily. "And I have no trust in her, for awitchly wrong 'un she is. When she goes donkey-wise to Wanbury, I saysto a chal, says I, quick-like, 'Follow and watch her games!' So the chalruns secret, behind hedges, and comes on the child at the railway linemaking for Lundra. And off she goes on wheels in place of tramping thedroms in true Romany style. "

"What the deuce has she gone to London for?" Lambert asked himself in alow voice, but Gentilla's sharp ears overheard. 

"Mischief for sure, my gentleman. Hai, but she's a bad one, that same. But she plays and I play, with the winning for me--since the good cardsare always in the old hand. Fear nothing, my rye. She cannot hurt, though snake that she is, her bite stings. "

The young man did not reply. He was uneasy in one way and relieved inanother. Chaldea certainly had not gone to see Inspector Darby, so shecould not have any intention of bringing the police into the matter. Butwhy had she gone to London? He asked himself this question and finallyput it to the old woman, who watched him with bright, twinkling eyes. 

"She's gone for mischief, " answered Gentilla, nodding positively. "Formischief's as natural to her as cheating is to a Romany chal. But I'm adealer of cards myself, rye, and I deal myself the best hand. "

"I wish you'd leave metaphor and come to plain speaking, " cried Lambertin an irritable tone, for the conversation was getting on his nerves byreason of its prolixity and indirectness. 

Mother Cockleshell laughed and nodded, then emptied the ashes out of herpipe and spoke out, irrelevantly as it would seem: "The child has takenthe hearts of the young from me, " said she, shaking her grizzled head;"but the old cling to the old. With them as trusts my wisdom, my rye, Igoes across the black water to America and leaves the silly ones to thechild. She'll get them into choky and trouble, for sure. And that's atrue dukkerin. "

"Have you the money to go to America?"

"Money?" The old woman chuckled and hugged herself. "And why not, sir, when Ishmael Hearne was my child. Aye, the child of my child, for I amthe bebee of Hearne, bebee being grandmother in our Romany tongue, sir. "

Lambert started from his seat, almost too astonished to speak. "Do youmean to say that you are Pine's grandmother?"

"Pine? Who is Pine? A Gentile I know not. Hearne he was born and Hearnehe shall be to me, though the grass is now a quilt for him. Ohone! Haimai! Ah, me! Woe! and woe, my gentleman. He was the child of my childand the love of my heart, " she rocked herself to and fro sorrowfully, "like a leaf has he fallen from the tree; like the dew has he vanishedinto the blackness of the great shadow. Hai mai! Hai mai! the sadness ofit. "

"Hearne your grandson?" murmured Lambert, staring at her and scarcelyable to believe her. 

"True. Yes; it is true, " said Gentilla, still rocking. "He left theroad, and the tent, and the merry fire under a hedge for your Gentilelife. But a born Romany he was and no Gorgio. Ahr-r-r!" she shookherself with disgust. "Why did he labor for gold in the Gentile manner, when he could have chored and cheated like a true-hearted black one?"

Her allusions to money suddenly enlightened the young man. "Yours is thename mentioned in the sealed letter held by Jarwin?" he cried, withgenuine amazement written largely on his face. "You inherit themillions?"

Mother Cockleshell wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl andchuckled complacently. "It is so, young man, therefore can I take thosewho hold to my wisdom to the great land beyond the water. Ah, I am richnow, sir, and as a Gorgious one could I live beneath a roof-tree. Butfor why, I asks you, my golden rye, when I was bred to the open and thesky? In a tent I was born; in a tent I shall die. Should I go, Gentile, it's longing for the free life I'd be, since Romany I am and ever shallbe. As we says in our tongue, my dear, 'It's allers the boro matcho thatpet-a-lay 'dree the panni, ' though true gypsy lingo you can't call itfor sure. "

"What does it mean?" demanded Lambert, staring at the dingy possessor oftwo millions sterling. 

"It's allers the largest fish that falls back into the water, "translated Mrs. Stanley. "I told that to Leland, the boro rye, and hegoes and puts the same into a book for your readings, my dearie!" thenshe uttered a howl and flung up her arms. "But what matter I am rich, when my child's child's blood calls out for vengeance. I'd give all thered gold--and red money it is, my loved one, " she added, fixing a brightpair of eyes on Lambert, "if I could find him as shot the darling of myheart. "

Knowing that he could trust her, and pitying her obvious sorrow, Lamberthad no hesitation in revealing the truth so far as he knew it. "Itwasn't a him who shot your grandson, but a her. "

"Hai!" Gentilla flung up her arms again, "then I was right. My old eyesdid see like a cat in the dark, though brightly shone the moon when hefell. "

"What? You know?" Lambert started back again at this second surprise. 

"If it's a Gentile lady, I know. A red one large as a cow in themeadows, and fierce as an unbroken colt. "

"Miss Greeby!"

"Greeby! Greeby! So your romi told me, " shrieked the old woman, throwingup her hands in ecstasy. "Says I to her, 'Who's the foxy one?' and saysshe, smiling like, 'Greeby's her name!'"

"Why did you ask my wife that?" demanded Lambert, much astonished. 

"Hai, she was no wife of yours then, sir. Why did I ask her? Because Isaw the shooting--"

"Of Pine--of Hearne--of your son?"

"Of who else? of who else?" cried Mother Cockleshell, clapping herskinny hand and paddling on the floor with her feet. "Says Ishmael tome, 'Bebee, ' says he, 'my romi is false and would run away with thegolden rye this very night as ever was. ' And says I to him, 'It's notso, son of my son, for your romi is as true as the stars and purer thangold. ' But says he, 'There's a letter, ' he says, and shows it to me. 'Lies, son of my son, ' says I, and calls on him to play the trustfulrom. But he pitches down the letter, and says he, 'I go this night tostop them from paddling the hoof, ' and says I to him, 'No! No!' says I. 'She's a true one. ' But he goes, when all in the camp are sleepingdeath-like, and I watches, and I follers, and I hides. "

"Where did you hide?"

"Never mind, dearie. I hides securely, and sees him walking up and downbiting the lips of him and swinging his arms. Then I sees--for Oliverwas bright, and Oliver's the moon, lovey--the big Gentile woman comeround and hide in the bushes. Says I to myself, says I, 'And what's yourgame?' I says, not knowing the same till she shoots and my child's childfalls dead as a hedgehog. Then she runs and I run, and all is over. "

"Why didn't you denounce her, Gentilla?"

"And for why, my precious heart? Who would believe the old gypsy? Ratherwould the Poknees say as I'd killed my dear one. No! no! Artful am I andpatient in abiding my time. But the hour strikes, as I said when I spoketo your romi in Devonshire no less, and the foxy moll shall hang. Yousee, my dear, I waited for some Gentile to speak what I could speak, tosay as what I saw was truth for sure. You speak, and now I can tell mytale to the big policeman at Wanbury so that my son's son may sleepquiet, knowing that the evil has come home to her as laid him low. But, lovey, oh, lovey, and my precious one!" cried the old woman dartingforward to caress Lambert's hand in a fondling way, "tell me how youknow and what you learned. At the cottage you were, and maybe out in theopen watching the winder of her you loved. "

"No, " said Lambert sharply, "I was at the cottage certainly, but in bedand asleep. I did not hear of the crime until I was in London. In thisway I found out the truth, Mother!" and he related rapidly all that hadbeen discovered, bringing the narrative right up to the confession ofSilver, which he detailed at length. 

The old woman kept her sharp eyes on his expressive face and hugged hishand every now and then, as various points in the narrative struck her. At the end she dropped his hand and returned back to her chairchuckling. "It's a sad dukkerin for the foxy lady, " said Gentilla, grinning like the witch she was. "Hanged she will be, and rightfulit is to be so!"

"I agree with you, " replied Lambert relentlessly. "Your evidence andthat of Silver can hang her, certainly. Yet, if she is arrested, and thewhole tale comes out in the newspapers, think of the disgrace to myfamily. "

Mother Cockleshell nodded. "That's as true as true, my golden rye, " shesaid pondering. "And I wish not to hurt you and the rani, who was kindto me. I go away, " she rose to her feet briskly, "and I think. What willyou do?"

"I can't say, " said Lambert, doubtfully and irresolutely. "I mustconsult my wife. Miss Greeby should certainly suffer for her crime, andyet--"

"Aye! Aye! Aye! The boro rye, " she meant Garvington, "is a bad one forsure, as we know. Shame to him is shame to you, and I wouldn't have therani miserable--the good kind one that she is. Wait! aye, wait, myprecious gentleman, and we shall see. "

"You will say nothing in the meantime, " said Lambert, stopping her atthe door, and anxious to know exactly what were her intentions. 

"I have waited long for vengeance and I can wait longer, sir, " saidMother Cockleshell, becoming less the gypsy and more the respectablealmshouse widow. "Depend upon my keeping quiet until--"

"Until what? Until when?"

"Never you mind, " said the woman mysteriously. "Them as sins must sufferfor the sin. But not you and her as is innocent. "

"No violence, Gentilla, " said the young man, alarmed less the lawlessgypsy nature should punish Miss Greeby privately. 

"I swear there shall be no violence, rye. Wait, for the child is makingmischief, and until we knows of her doings we must be silent. Give meyour gripper, my dearie, " she seized his wrist and bent back the palm ofthe hand to trace the lines with a dirty finger. "Good fortune comes toyou and to her, my golden rye, " she droned in true gypsy fashion. "Money, and peace, and honor, and many children, to carry on a stainlessname. Your son shall you see, and your son's son, my noble gentleman, and with your romi shall you go with happiness to the grave, " shedropped the hand. "So be it for a true dukkerin, and remember GentillaStanley when the luck comes true. "

"But Mother, Mother, " said Lambert, following her to the door, as he wasstill doubtful as to her intentions concerning Miss Greeby. 

The gypsy waved him aside solemnly. "Never again will you see me, mygolden rye, if the stars speak truly, and if there be virtue in thelines of the hand. I came into your life: I go out of your life: andwhat is written shall be!" she made a mystic sign close to his face andthen nodded cheerily. 

"Duveleste rye!" was her final greeting, and she disappeared swiftly, but the young man did not know that the Romany farewell meant, "Godbless you!"

CHAPTER XX. 

THE DESTINED END. 

As might have been anticipated, Lord Garvington was in anything but ahappy frame of mind. He left Silver in almost a fainting condition, andreturned to The Manor feeling very sick himself. The two cowardly littlemen had not the necessary pluck of conspirators, and now that thereseemed to be a very good chance that their nefarious doings would bemade public they were both in deadly fear of the consequences. Silverwas in the worst plight, since he was well aware that the law wouldconsider him to be an accessory after the fact, and that, although hisneck was not in danger, his liberty assuredly was. He was so stunned bythe storm which had broken so unexpectedly over his head, that he hadnot even the sense to run away. All manly grit--what he possessed ofit--had been knocked out of him, and he could only whimper over the firewhile waiting for Lambert to act. 

Garvington was not quite so downhearted, as he knew that his cousin wasanxious to consider the fair fame of the family. Thinking thus, he felta trifle reassured, for the forged letter could not be made publicwithout a slur being cast on the name. Then, again, Garvington knew thathe was innocent of designing Pine's death, and that, even if Lambert didinform the police, he could not be arrested. It is only just to say thathad the little man known of Miss Greeby's intention to murder themillionaire, he would never have written the letter which lured the manto his doom. And for two reasons: in the first place he was too cowardlyto risk his neck; and in the second Pine was of more value to him alivethan dead. Comforting himself with this reflection, he managed tomaintain a fairly calm demeanor before his wife. 

But on this night Lady Garvington was particularly exasperating, for sheconstantly asked questions which the husband did not feel inclined toanswer. Having heard that Lambert was in the village, she wished to knowwhy he had not been asked to stay at The Manor, and defended the youngman when Garvington pointed out that an iniquitous person who had robbedAgnes of two millions could not be tolerated by the man--Garvingtonmeant himself--he had wronged. Then Jane inquired why Lambert hadbrought Chaldea to the house, and what had passed in the library, butreceived no answer, save a growl. Finally she insisted that Freddy hadlost his appetite, which was perfectly true. 

"And I thought you liked that way of dressing a fish so much, dear, " washer wail. "I never seem to quite hit your taste. "

"Oh, bother: leave me alone, Jane. I'm worried. "

"I know you are, for you have eaten so little. What is the matter?"

"Everything's the matter, confound your inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agneslost all her money because of this selfish marriage with Noel, hang him?How the dickens do you expect us to carry on unless we borrow?"

"Can't you get some money from the person who now inherits?"

"Jarwin won't tell me the name. "

"But I know who it is, " said Lady Garvington triumphantly. "One of theservants who went to the gypsy camp this afternoon told my maid, and mymaid told me. The gypsies are greatly excited, and no wonder. "

Freddy stared at her. "Excited, what about?"

"Why, about the money, dear. Don't you know?"

"No, I don't!" shouted Freddy, breaking a glass in his irritation. "Whatis it? Bother you, Jane. Don't keep me hanging on in suspense. "

"I'm sure I never do, Freddy, dear. It's Hubert's money which has goneto his mother. "

Garvington jumped up. "Who--who--who is his mother?" he demanded, furiously. 

"That dear old Gentilla Stanley. "

"What! What! What!"

"Oh, Freddy, " said his wife plaintively. "You make my head ache. Yes, it's quite true. Celestine had it from William the footman. Fancy, Gentilla having all that money. How lucky she is. "

"Oh, damn her; damn her, " growled Garvington, breaking another glass. 

"Why, dear. I'm sure she's going to make good use of the money. Shesays--so William told Celestine--that she would give a million to learnfor certain who murdered poor Hubert. "

"Would she? would she? would she?" Garvington's gooseberry eyes nearlydropped out of his head, and he babbled, and burbled, and choked, andspluttered, until his wife was quite alarmed. 

"Freddy, you always eat too fast. Go and lie down, dear. "

"Yes, " said Garvington, rapidly making up his mind to adopt a certaincourse about which he wished his wife to know nothing. "I'll lie down, Jane. "

"And don't take any more wine, " warned Jane, as she drifted out of thedining-room. "You are quite red as it is, dear. "

But Freddy did not take this advice, but drank glass after glass untilhe became pot-valiant. He needed courage, as he intended to go all byhimself to the lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage and interview Silver. Itoccurred to Freddy that if he could induce the secretary to give up MissGreeby to justice, Mother Cockleshell, out of gratitude, might surrenderto him the sum of one million pounds. Of course, the old hag might havebeen talking all round the shop, and her offer might be bluff, but itwas worth taking into consideration. Garvington, thinking that there wasno time to lose, since his cousin might be beforehand in denouncing theguilty woman, hurried on his fur overcoat, and after leaving a lyingstatement with the butler that he had gone to bed, he went out by theuseful blue door. In a few minutes he was trotting along the well-knownpath making up his mind what to say to Silver. The interview did notpromise to be an easy one. 

"I wish I could do without him, " thought the treacherous littlescoundrel as he left his own property and struck across the waste groundbeyond the park wall. "But I can't, dash it all, since he's the onlyperson who saw the crime actually committed. 'Course he'll get jailed asan accessory-after-the-fact: but when he comes out I'll give him athousand or so if the old woman parts. At all events, I'll see whatSilver is prepared to do, and then I'll call on old Cockleshell and makethings right with her. Hang it, " Freddy had a qualmish feeling. "Theexposure won't be pleasant for me over that unlucky letter, but if I cansnaffle a million, it's worth it. Curse the honor of the family, I'vegot to look after myself somehow. Ho! ho!" he chuckled as he rememberedhis cousin. "What a sell for Noel when he finds that I've taken the windout of his sails. Serve him jolly well right. "

In this way Garvington kept up his spirits during the walk, and feltentirely cheerful and virtuous by the time he reached the cottage. Inthe thin, cold moonlight, the wintry wood looked spectral and wan. Thesight of the frowning monoliths, the gaunt, frozen trees and thesnow-powdered earth, made the luxurious little man shiver. Also theanticipated conversation rather daunted him, although he decided thatafter all Silver was but a feeble creature who could be easily managed. What Freddy forgot was that he lacked pluck himself, and that Silver, driven into a corner, might fight with the courage of despair. The sightof the secretary's deadly white and terrified face as he opened the doorsufficient to peer out showed that he was at bay. 

"If you come in I'll shoot, " he quavered, brokenly. "I'll--I'll brainyou with the poker. I'll throw hot water on you, and--and scratch outyour--your--"

"Come, come, " said Garvington, boldly. "It's only me--a friend!"

Silver recognized the voice and the dumpy figure of his visitor. At oncehe dragged him into the passage and barred the door quickly, breathinghard meanwhile. "I don't mind you, " he giggled, hysterically. "You're inthe same boat with me, my lord. But I fancied when you knocked that thepolice--the police"--his voice died weakly in his throat: he cast a wildglance around and touched his neck uneasily as though he already feltthe hangman's rope encircling it. 

Garvington did not approve of this grim pantomime, and swore. "I'm quitealone, damn you, " he said roughly. "It's all right, so far!" He sat downand loosened his overcoat, for the place was like a Turkish bath forheat. "I want a drink. You've been priming yourself, I see, " and hepointed to a decanter of port wine and a bottle of brandy which were onthe table along with a tray of glasses. "Silly ass you are to mix. "

"I'm--I'm--keeping up my--my spirits, " giggled Silver, wholly unnerved, and pouring out the brandy with a shaking hand. "There you are, my lord. There's water, but no soda. "

"Keeping up your spirits by pouring spirits down, " said Garvington, venturing on a weak joke. "You're in a state of siege, too. "

Silver certainly was. He had bolted the shutters, and had piledfurniture against the two windows of the room. On the table beside thedecanter and bottles of brandy, lay a poker, a heavy club which Lamberthad brought from Africa, and had left behind when he gave up thecottage, a revolver loaded in all six chambers, and a large bread knife. Apparently the man was in a dangerous state of despair and was ready togive the officers of the law a hostile welcome when they came to arresthim. He touched the various weapons feverishly. 

"I'll give them beans, " he said, looking fearfully from right to left. "Every door is locked; every window is bolted. I've heaped up chairs andsofas and tables and chests of drawers, and wardrobes and mattressesagainst every opening to keep the devils out. And the lamps--look at thelamps. Ugh!" he shuddered. "I can't bear to be in the dark. "

"Plenty of light, " observed Garvington, and spoke truly, for there musthave been at least six lamps in the room--two on the table, two on themantel-piece, and a couple on the sideboard. And amidst his primitivedefences sat Silver quailing and quivering at every sound, occasionallypouring brandy down his throat to keep up his courage. 

The white looks of the man, the disorder of the room, the glare of themany lights, and the real danger of the situation, communicated theirthrill to Garvington. He shivered and looked into shadowy corners, asSilver did; then strove to reassure both himself and his companion. "Don't worry so, " he said, sipping his brandy to keep him up to concertpitch, "I've got an idea which will be good for both of us. "

"What is it?" questioned the secretary cautiously. He naturally did nottrust the man who had betrayed him. 

"Do you know who has inherited Pine's money?"

"No. The person named in the sealed envelope?"

"Exactly, and the person is Mother Cockleshell. "

Silver was so amazed that he forgot his fright. "What? Is GentillaStanley related to Pine?"

"She's his grandmother, it seems. One of my servants was at the campto-day and found the gypsies greatly excited over the old cat'swindfall. "

"Whew!" Silver whistled and drew a deep breath. "If I'd known that, I'dhave got round the old woman. But it's too late now since all the fat ison the fire. Mr. Lambert knows too much, and you have confessed whatshould have been kept quiet. "

"I had to save my own skin, " said Garvington sullenly. "After all, I hadnothing to do with the murder. I never guessed that you were so mixed upin it until Lambert brought that bullet to fit the revolver I lent you. "

"And which I gave to Miss Greeby, " snapped Silver tartly. "She is thecriminal, not me. What a wax she will be in when she learns the truth. I expect your cousin will have her arrested. "

"I don't think so. He has some silly idea in his head about the honor ofour name, and won't press matters unless he is forced to. "

"Who can force him?" asked Silver, looking more at ease, since he saw agleam of hope. 

"Chaldea! She's death on making trouble. "

"Can't we silence her? Remember you swing on my hook. "

"No, I don't, " contradicted Garvington sharply. "I can't be arrested. "

"For forging that letter you can!"

"Not at all. I did not write it to lure Pine to his death, but onlywished to maim him. "

"That will get you into trouble, " insisted Silver, anxious to have acompanion in misery. 

"It won't, I tell you. There's no one to prosecute. You are the personwho is in danger, as you knew Miss Greeby to be guilty, and aretherefore an accessory after the fact. "

"If Mr. Lambert has the honor of your family at heart he will donothing, " said the secretary hopefully; "for if Miss Greeby is arrestedalong with me the writing of that letter is bound to come out. "

"I don't care. It's worth a million. "

"What is worth a million?"

"The exposure. See here, Silver, I hear that Mother Cockleshell iswilling to hand over that sum to the person who finds the murderer ofher grandson. We know that Miss Greeby is guilty, so why not give herup and earn the money?"

The secretary rose in quivering alarm. "But I'd be arrested also. Yousaid so; you know you said so. "

"And I say so again, " remarked Garvington, leaning back coolly. "You'dnot be hanged, you know, although she would. A few years in prisonwould be your little lot and when you came out I could give yousay--er--er--ten thousand pounds. There! That's a splendid offer. "

"Where would you get the ten thousand? Tell me!" asked Silver with acurious look. 

"From the million Mother Cockleshell would hand over to me. "

"For denouncing me?"

"For denouncing Miss Greeby. "

"You beast!" shrieked Silver hysterically. "You know quite well that ifshe is taken by the police I have no chance of escaping. I'd run awaynow if I had the cash. But I haven't. I count on your cousin keepingquiet because of your family name, and you shan't give the show away. "

"But think, " said Garvington, persuasively, "a whole million. "

"For you, and only ten thousand for me. Oh, I like that. "

"Well, I'll make it twenty thousand. "

"No! no. "

"Thirty thousand. "

"No! no! no!"

"Forty, fifty, sixty, seventy--oh, hang it, you greedy beast! I'll giveyou one hundred thousand. You'd be rich for life then. "

"Would I, curse you!" Silver clenched his fists and backed against thewall looking decidedly dangerous. "And risk a life-long sentence to getthe money while you take the lion's share. "

"You'd only get ten years at most, " argued the visitor, annoyed by whathe considered to be silly objections. 

"Ten years are ten centuries at my time of life. You shan't denounceme. "

Garvington rose. "Yes, I shall, " he declared, rendered desperate by thedread lest he should lose the million. "I'm going to Wanbury to-night totell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest alongwith yours as her accomplice. "

Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "Youdaren't!"

"Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not goingto lose a pile of money for your silly scruples. "

"Oh, my lord, consider. " Silver in a panic dropped on his knees. "Ishall be shut up for years; it will kill me; it will kill me! And youdon't know what a terrible and clever woman Miss Greeby is. She may denythat I gave her the revolver and I can't prove that I did. Then I mightbe accused of the crime and hanged. Hanged!" cried the poor wretchmiserably. "Oh, you'll never give me away, my lord, will you. "

"Confound you, don't I risk my reputation to get the money, " ragedGarvington, shaking off the trembling arms which were round his knees. "The truth of the letter will have to come out, and then I'm dished sofar as society is concerned. I wouldn't do it--tell that is--but thatthe stakes are so large. One million is waiting to be picked up and I'mgoing to pick it up. "

"No! no! no! no!" Silver grovelled on the floor and embracedGarvington's feet. But the more he wailed the more insulting anddetermined did the visitor become. Like all tyrants and bulliesGarvington gained strength and courage from the increased feeblenessof his victim. "Don't give me up, " wept the secretary, nearly besidehimself with terror; "don't give me up. "

"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for thedoor. "I go straight to Wanbury, " which statement was a lie, as he firstintended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that thereward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy. 

"You shan't go!" he screamed, leaping to his feet, and before Garvingtonknew where he was the secretary had the heavy poker in his grasp. Thelittle fat lord gave a cry of terror and dodged the first blow whichmerely fell on his shoulder. But the second alighted on his head andwith a moan he dropped to the ground. Silver flung away the poker. 

"Are you dead? are you dead?" he gasped, kneeling beside Garvington, andplaced his hand on the senseless man's heart. It still beat feebly, sohe arose with a sigh of relief. "He's only stunned, " panted Silver, andstaggered unsteadily to the table to seize a glass of brandy. "I'll, ah--ah--ah!" he shrieked and dropped the tumbler as a loud andcontinuous knocking came to the front door. 

Naturally in his state of panic he believed that the police had actuallyarrived, and here he had struck down Lord Garvington. Even though thelittle man was not dead, Silver knew that the assault would add to hispunishment, although he might have concluded that the lesser crime wasswallowed up in the greater. But he was too terrified to think of doinganything save hiding the stunned man, and with a gigantic effort hemanaged to fling the body behind the sofa. Then he piled up rugs andcushions between the wall and the back of the sofa until Garvington wasquite hidden and ran a considerable risk of being suffocated. All thetime the ominous knocking continued, as though the gallows was beingconstructed. At least it seemed so to Silver's disturbed fancy, and hecrept along to the door holding the revolver in an unsteady grip. 

"Who--who--is--"

"Let me in; let me in, " said a loud, hard voice. "I'm Miss Greeby. Ihave come to save you. Let me in. "

Silver had no hesitation in obeying, since she was in as much danger ashe was and could not hurt him without hurting herself. With tremblingfingers he unbolted the door and opened it, to find her tall and statelyand tremendously impatient on the threshold. She stepped in and bangedthe door to without locking it. Silver's teeth chattered so much and hislimbs trembled so greatly that he could scarcely move or speak. Onseeing this--for there was a lamp in the passage--Miss Greeby picked himup in her big arms like a baby and made for the sitting-room. When, within she pitched Silver on to the sofa behind which Garvington laysenseless, and placing her arms akimbo surveyed him viciously. 

"You infernal worm!" said Miss Greeby, grim and savage in her looks, "you have split on me, have you?"

"How--how--how do you know?" quavered Silver mechanically, noting thatin her long driving coat with a man's cap she looked more masculine thanever. 

"How do I know? Because Chaldea was hiding under the studio window thisafternoon and overheard all that passed between you and Garvington andthat meddlesome Lambert. She knew that I was in danger and came at onceto London to tell me since I had given her my address. I lost no time, but motored down here and dropped her at the camp. Now I've come to getyou out of the country. "

"Me out of the country?" stammered the secretary. 

"Yes, you cowardly swine, although I'd rather choke the life out of youif it could be done with safety. You denounced me, you beast. "

"I had to; my own neck was in danger. "

"It's in danger now. I'd strangle you for two pins. But I intend to sendyou abroad since your evidence is dangerous to me. If you are out of theway there's no one else can state that I shot Pine. Here's twenty poundsin gold;" she thrust a canvas bag into the man's shaking hands; "get onyour coat and cap and I'll take you to the nearest seaport wherever thatis. My motor is on the verge of the wood. You must get on board someship and sail for the world's end. I'll send you more money when youwrite. Come, come, " she stamped, "sharp's the word. "

"But--but--but--"

Miss Greeby lifted him off the sofa by the scruff of the neck. "Do youwant to be killed?" she said between her teeth, "there's no time to belost. Chaldea tells me that Lambert threatens to have me arrested. "

The prospect of safety and prosperity in a distant land so appealed toSilver that he regained his courage in a wonderfully short space oftime. Rising to his feet he hastily drained another glass of brandy andthe color came back to his wan cheeks. But for all the quantity he haddrank that same evening he was not in the least intoxicated. He wasabout to rush out of the room to get his coat and cap when Miss Greebylaid a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

"Is there any one else in the house?" she asked suspiciously. 

Silver cast a glance towards the sofa. "There's no servant, " he said ina stronger voice. "I have been cooking and looking after myself since Icame here. But--but--but--"

"But what, you hound?" she shook him fiercely. 

"Garvington's behind the sofa. "

"Garvington!" Miss Greeby was on the spot in a moment pulling away theconcealing rugs and cushions. "Have you murdered him?" she demanded, drawing a deep breath and looking at the senseless man. 

"No, he's only stunned. I struck him with the poker because he wanted todenounce me. "

"Quite right. " Miss Greeby patted the head of her accomplice as if hewere a child, "You're bolder than I thought. Go on; hurry up! BeforeGarvington recovers his senses we'll be far enough away. Denounce me;denounce him, will you?" she said, looking at Garvington while thesecretary slipped out of the room; "you do so at your own cost, my lord. That forged letter won't tell in your favor. Ha!" she started to herfeet. "What's that! Who's here?"

She might well ask. There was a struggle going on in the passage, andshe heard cries for help. Miss Greeby flung open the sitting-room door, and Silver, embracing Mother Cockleshell, tumbled at her feet. "She gotin by the door you left open, " cried Silver breathlessly, "hold her orwe are lost; we'll never get away. "

"No, you won't!" shouted the dishevelled old woman, producing a knife tokeep Miss Greeby at bay. "Chaldea came to the camp and I learned throughKara how she'd brought you down, my Gentile lady. I went to tell thegolden rye, and he's on the way here with the village policeman. You'redone for. "

"Not yet. " Miss Greeby darted under the uplifted knife and caughtGentilla round the waist. The next moment the old woman was flungagainst the wall, breathless and broken up. But she still contrived tohurl curses at the murderess of her grandson. 

"I saw you shoot him; I saw you shoot him, " screamed Mother Cockleshell, trying to rise. 

"Silver, make for the motor; it's near the camp; follow the path, "ordered Miss Greeby breathlessly; "there's no time to be lost. As tothis old devil--" she snatched up a lamp as the secretary dashed out ofthe house, and flung it fairly at Gentilla Stanley. In a moment the oldwoman was yelling with agony, and scrambled to her feet a pillar offire. Miss Greeby laughed in a taunting manner and hurled another lampbehind the sofa. "You'd have given me up also, would you, Garvington?"she cried in her deep tone; "take that, and that, and that. "

Lamp after lamp was smashed and burst into flames, until only one wasleft. Then Miss Greeby, seeing with satisfaction that the entire roomwas on fire and hearing the sound of hasty footsteps and the echoing ofdistant voices, rushed in her turn from the cottage. As she bolted thevoice of Garvington screaming with pain and dread was heard as he cameto his senses to find himself encircled by fire. And Mother Cockleshellalso shrieked, not so much because of her agony as to stop Miss Greebyfrom escaping. 

"Rye! Rye! she's running; catch her; catch her. Aha--aha--aha!" and shesank into the now blazing furnace of the room. 

The walls of the cottage were of mud, the partitions and roof of woodand thatch, so the whole place soon burned like a bonfire. Miss Greebyshot out of the door and strode at a quick pace across the glade. But asshe passed beyond the monoliths, Lambert, in company with a policeman, made a sudden appearance and blocked her way of escape. With a grimdetermination to thwart him she kilted up her skirts and leaped like akangaroo towards the undergrowth beneath the leafless trees. By thistime the flames were shooting through the thatched roof in long scarletstreamers and illuminated the spectral wood with awful light. 

"Stop! stop!" cried Lambert, racing to cut off the woman's retreat, closely followed by the constable. 

Miss Greeby laughed scornfully, and instead of avoiding them as theycrossed her path, she darted straight towards the pair. In a moment, bya dexterous touch of her shoulders right and left, she knocked them overby taking them unawares, and then sprang down the path which curvedtowards the gypsies' encampment. At its end the motor was waiting, andso vivid was the light that she saw Silver's black figure bending downas he frantically strove to start the machine. She travelled at topspeed, fearful lest the man should escape without her. 

Then came an onrush of Romany, attracted to the glade by the fire. Theyguessed from Miss Greeby's haste that something was seriously wrong andtried to stop her. But, delivering blows straight from the shoulder, here, there, and everywhere, the woman managed to break through, andfinally reached the end of the pathway. Here was the motor and safety, since she hoped to make a dash for the nearest seaport and get out ofthe kingdom before the police authorities could act. 

But the stars in their course fought against her. Silver, having startedthe machinery, was already handling the steering gear, and bent onlyupon saving his own miserable self, had put the car in motion. He couldonly drive in a slip-slop amateur way and aimlessly zigzagged down thesloping bank which fell away to the high road. As the motor began togather speed Miss Greeby ran for her life and liberty, ranging at lengthbreathlessly alongside. The gypsies tailed behind, shouting. 

"Stop, you beast!" screamed Miss Greeby, feeling fear for the firsttime, and she tried to grab the car for the purpose of swinging herselfon board. 

But Silver urged it to greater speed. "I save myself; myself, " heshrieked shrilly and unhinged by deadly terror, "get away; get away. "

In his panic he twisted the wheel in the wrong direction, and the bigmachine swerved obediently. The next moment Miss Greeby was knockeddown and writhed under the wheels. She uttered a tragic cry, but littleSilver cared for that. Rendered merciless with fear he sent the carright over her body, and then drove desperately down the hill to gainthe hard road. Miss Greeby, with a broken back, lay on the ground andsaw as in a ghastly dream her machine flash roaring along the highwaydriven by a man who could not manage it. Even in her pain a smile creptover her pale face. 

"He's done for, the little beast, " she muttered, "he'll smash. Lambert!Lambert!" The man whose name she breathed had arrived as she spoke; andknelt breathlessly beside her to raise her head. "You--you--oh, poorcreature!" he gasped. 

"I'm done for, Lambert, " she panted in deadly pain, "back broken. Isinned for you, but--but you can't hang me. Look--look afterGarvington--Cockleshell too--look--look--Augh!" and she moaned. 

"Where are they?"

"In--in--the--cottage, " murmured the woman, and fell back in a faintingcondition with a would-be sneering laugh. 

Lambert started to his feet with an oath, and leaving the wretched womanto the care of some gypsies, ran back to the glade. The cottage was amass of streaming, crackling flames, and there was no water toextinguish these, as he realized with sudden fear. It was terrible tothink that the old woman and Garvington were burning in that furnace, and desperately anxious to save at least one of the two, Lambert triedto enter the door. But the heat of the fire drove him back, and theflames seemed to roar at his discomfiture. He could do nothing but standhelplessly and gaze upon what was plainly Garvington's funeral pyre. 

By this time the villagers were making for the wood, and the whole placerang with cries of excitement and dismay. The wintry scene was revealedonly too clearly by the ruddy glare and by the same sinister light. Lambert suddenly beheld Chaldea at his elbow. Gripping his arm, shespoke hoarsely, "The tiny rye is dead. He drove the engine over a bankand it smashed him to a pulp. "

"Oh! ah! And--and Miss Greeby?"

"She is dying. "

Lambert clenched his hands and groaned, "Garvington and MotherCockleshell?"

"She is dead and he is dead by now, " said Chaldea, looking with acallous smile at the burning cottage, "both are dead--Lord Garvington. "

"Lord Garvington?" Lambert groaned again. He had forgotten that he nowpossessed the title and what remained of the family estates. 

"Avali!" cried Chaldea, clapping her hands and nodding toward thecottage with a meaning smile, "there's the bonfire to celebrate theluck. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

A FINAL SURPRISE. 

A week later and Lambert was seated in the library of The Manor, lookingworn and anxious. His wan appearance was not due so much to what he hadpassed through, trying as late events had been, as to his dread of whatInspector Darby was about to say. That officer was beside him, gettingready for an immediate conversation by turning over various papers whichhe produced from a large and well-filled pocket-book. Darby lookedcomplacent and important, as an examination into the late tragedy hadadded greatly to his reputation as a zealous officer. Things were nowmore ship-shape, as Miss Greeby had died after making confession of hercrime and had been duly buried by her shocked relatives. The ashes ofLord Garvington and Mother Cockleshell, recovered from the débris ofthe cottage, had also been disposed of with religious ceremonies, andSilver's broken body had been placed in an unwept grave. The frightfulcatastrophe which had resulted in the death of four people had been thetalk of the United Kingdom for the entire seven days. 

What Lambert was dreading to hear was the report of Miss Greeby'sconfession, which Inspector Darby had come to talk about. He had triedto see her himself at the village inn, whither she had been transferredto die, but she had refused to let him come to her dying bed, andtherefore he did not know in what state of mind she had passed away. Judging from the vindictive spirit which she had displayed, Lambertfancied that she had told Darby the whole wretched story of the forgedletter and the murder. The last was bound to be confessed, but the youngman had hoped against hope that Miss Greeby would be silent regardingGarvington's share in the shameful plot. Wickedly as his cousin hadbehaved, Lambert did not wish his memory to be smirched and the familyhonor to be tarnished by a revelation of the little man's truecharacter. He heartily wished that the evil Garvington had done mightbe buried with him, and the whole sordid affair forgotten. 

"First, my lord, " said Darby leisurely, when his papers were in order, "I have to congratulate your lordship on your accession to the title. Hitherto so busy have I been that there has been no time to do this. "

"Thank you, Mr. Inspector, but I regret that I should have succeededthrough so tragic a death. "

"Yes, yes, my lord! the feeling does you honor, " Darby noddedsympathetically; "but it must be some comfort for you to know that yourpoor cousin perished when on an errand of mercy, although his aim wasnot perhaps quite in accordance with strict justice. "

Lambert stared. "I don't know what you mean, " he remarked, being puzzledby this coupling of Garvington's name with any good deed. 

"Of course you don't, my lord. But for you to understand I had betterbegin with Miss Greeby's confession. I must touch on some ratherintimate things, however, " said the inspector rather shyly. 

"Meaning that Miss Greeby was in love with me. "

"Exactly, my lord. Her love for you--if you will excuse my mentioning soprivate a subject--caused the whole catastrophe. "

"Indeed, " the young man felt a sense of relief, as if Darby put thematter in this way the truth about the forged letter could scarcely havecome to light, "will you explain?"

"Certainly, my lord. Miss Greeby always wished to marry your lordship, but she knew that you loved your wife, the present Lady Garvington, whowas then Lady Agnes Pine. She believed that you and Lady Agnes wouldsooner or later run away together. "

"There was no reason she should think so, " said Noel, becoming scarlet. 

"Of course not, my lord. Pardon me again for speaking of such veryprivate matters. But I can scarcely make your lordship understand howthe late Sir Hubert Pine came by his death unless I am painfully frank. "

"Go on, Mr. Inspector, " Noel leaned back and folded his arms. "Be frankto the verge of rudeness, if you like. "

"Oh, no, no, my lord; certainly not, " Darby said in a shocked manner. "I will be as delicate as I possibly can. Well, then, my lord, MissGreeby, thinking that you might elope with the then Lady Agnes Pine, resolved to place an even greater barrier between you than themarriage. "

"What could be a possibly greater barrier?"

"Your honor, my lord, your strict sense of honor. Miss Greeby thoughtthat if she got rid of Sir Hubert, and Lady Agnes was in possession ofthe millions, that you would never risk her losing the same for yoursake. "

"She was right in supposing that, Mr. Inspector, but how did Miss Greebyknow that Lady Agnes would lose the money if she married me?"

"Sir Hubert told her so himself, my lord, when she discovered that hewas at the Abbot's Wood camp under the name of Ishmael Hearne. "

"His real name. "

"Of course, my lord; of course. And having made this discovery andknowing how jealous Sir Hubert was of his wife--if you will pardon mymentioning the fact--Miss Greeby laid a trap to lure him to The Manorthat he might be shot. "

The listener moved uneasily, and he now quite expected to hear therevelation of Garvington's forgery. "Go on, Mr. Inspector. "

"Miss Greeby, " pursued the officer, glancing at his notes, "knew thatthe late Mark Silver, who was Sir Hubert's secretary, was not welldisposed toward his employer, as he fancied that he had been cheated outof the proceeds of certain inventions. Miss Greeby worked on this pointand induced Silver to forge a letter purporting to come from Lady Agnesto you saying that an elopement had been arranged. "

"Oh, " Lambert drew a breath of relief, "so Silver laid a trap, did he?"

"Yes, my lord, and a very clever one. The letter was arranged by Silverto fall into Sir Hubert's hands. That unfortunate gentleman came to theblue door at the appointed time, then Miss Greeby, who had climbed outof the window of her bedroom to hide in the shrubbery, shot theunsuspecting man. She then got back into her room--and a very cleverclimber she must have been, my lord--and afterward mingled with theguests. "

"But why did she think of luring Sir Hubert to be shot?" asked Noel withfeigned ignorance, "when she ran such a risk of being discovered?"

"Ah, my lord, therein lies the cleverness of the idea. Poor LordGarvington had threatened to shoot any burglar, and that gave MissGreeby the idea. It was her hope that your late cousin might kill SirHubert by mistaking him for a robber, and she only posted herself in theshrubbery to shoot if Sir Hubert was not killed. He was not, as we knowthat the shot fired by Lord Garvington only broke his arm. Miss Greebymade sure by killing him herself, and very cleverly she did so. "

"And what about my late cousin's philanthropic visit to Silver?"

"Ah, my lord, that was a mistake. His lordship was informed of theforged letter by Chaldea the gypsy girl, who found it in Sir Hubert'stent, and for the sake of your family wished to get Silver out of thecountry. It would have been dreadful--as Lord Garvington rightlyconsidered--that the name of his sister and your name should bementioned in connection with an elopement even though it was untrue. Hetherefore went to induce Silver to leave the country, but the man, instead of being grateful, stunned his lordship with a blow from a pokerwhich he had picked up. "

"How was that known, Mr. Inspector?"

"Miss Greeby had the truth from his own lips. Silver threatened todenounce her, and knowing this Chaldea went to London to warn her. "

"Oh, " muttered Lambert, thinking of what Gentilla Stanley had said, "howdid she find out?"

"She overheard a conversation between Silver and Lord Garvington in thecottage. "

Lambert was relieved again, since Miss Greeby had not evidentlymentioned him as being mixed up with the matter. "Yes, Mr. Inspector, Ican guess the rest. This unfortunate woman came down to get Silver, whocould have hanged her, out of the country, and he set fire to thecottage. "

"She set fire to it, " corrected Darby quickly, "by chance, as she toldme, she overturned a lamp. Of course, Lord Garvington, being senseless, was burned to death. Gentilla Stanley was also burned. "

"How did she come to be there?"

"Oh, it seems that Gentilla followed Hearne--he was her grandson I hearfrom the gypsies--to The Manor on that night and saw the shooting. Butshe said nothing, not feeling sure if her unsupported testimony would besufficient to convict Miss Greeby. However, she watched that lady andfollowed her to the cottage to denounce her and prevent the escape ofSilver--who knew the truth also, as she ascertained. Silver knocked theold woman down and stunned her, so she also was burned to death. ThenSilver ran for the motor car and crushed Miss Greeby--since he could notmanage the machine. "

"Did he crush her on purpose, do you think?"

"No, " said Darby after a pause, "I don't think so. Miss Greeby was rich, and if the pair of them had escaped Silver would have been able toextort money. He no more killed her than he killed himself by dashinginto that chalk pit near the road. It was mismanagement of the motor inboth cases. "

Lambert was quiet for a time. "Is that all?" he asked, looking up. 

"All, my lord, " answered the inspector, gathering his papers together. 

"Is anything else likely to appear in the papers?"

"No, my lord. "

"I noted, " said Lambert slowly, "that there was no mention of the forgedletter made at the inquest. "

Darby nodded. "I arranged that, my lord, since the forged letter made sofree with your lordship's name and that of the present Lady Garvington. As you probably saw, it was only stated that the late Sir Hubert hadgone to meet his secretary at The Manor and that Miss Greeby, knowing ofhis coming, had shot him. The motive was ascribed as anger at the lateSir Hubert for having lost a great sum of money which Miss Greebyentrusted to him for the purpose of speculation. "

"And is it true that such money was entrusted and lost?"

"Perfectly true, my lord. I saw in that fact a chance of hiding the realtruth. It would do no good to make the forged letter public and wouldcast discredit both on the dead and the living. Therefore all that hasbeen said does not even hint at the trap laid by Silver. Now that allparties concerned are dead and buried, no more will be heard of thematter, and your lordship can sleep in peace. "

The young man walked up and down the room for a few minutes while theinspector made ready to depart. Noel was deeply touched by the man'sconsideration and made up his mind that he should not lose by thedelicacy he had shown in preserving his name and that of Agnes fromthe tongue of gossips. He saw plainly that Darby was a man he couldthoroughly trust and forthwith did so. 

"Mr. Inspector, " he said, coming forward to shake hands, "you have actedin a most kind and generous manner and I cannot show my appreciation ofyour behavior more than by telling you the exact truth of this sadaffair. "

"I know the truth, " said Darby staring. 

"Not the exact truth, which closely concerns the honor of my family. Butas you have saved that by suppressing certain evidence it is only rightthat you should know more than you do know. "

"I shall keep quiet anything that you tell me, my lord, " said Darbygreatly pleased; "that is, anything that is consistent with my officialduty. "

"Of course. Also I wish you to know exactly how matters stand, sincethere may be trouble with Chaldea. "

"Oh, I don't think so, my lord. Chaldea has married that dwarf. "

"Kara, the Servian gypsy?"

"Yes. She's given him a bad time, and he put up with it because he hadno authority over her; but now that she's his romi--as these people calla wife--he'll make her dance to his playing. They left England yesterdayfor foreign parts--Hungary, I fancy, my lord. The girl won't come backin a hurry, for Kara will keep an eye on her. "

Lambert drew a long breath of relief. "I am glad, " he said simply, "asI never should have felt safe while she remained in England. "

"Felt safe?" echoed the officer suspiciously. 

His host nodded and told the man to take a seat again. Then, withoutwasting further time, he related the real truth about the forged letter. Darby listened to the recital in amazement and shook his head sadly overthe delinquency of the late Lord Garvington. 

"Well! Well!" said the inspector staring, "to think as a nobleman bornand bred should act in this way. "

"Why shouldn't a nobleman be wicked as well as the grocer?" said Lambertimpatiently, "and according to the socialistic press all the evil ofhumanity is to be found in aristocratic circles. However, you know theexact truth, Mr. Inspector, and I have confided to you the secret whichconcerns the honor of my family. You won't abuse my confidence. "

Darby rose and extended his hand. "You may be sure of that, my lord. What you have told me will never be repeated. Everything in connectionwith this matter is finished, and you will hear no more about it. "

"I'm glad and thankful, " said the other, again drawing a breath ofrelief, "and to show my appreciation of your services, Darby, I shallsend you a substantial check. "

"Oh, my lord, I couldn't take it. I only did my duty. "

"I think you did a great deal more than that, " answered the new LordGarvington dryly, "and had you acted entirely on the evidence yougathered together, and especially on the confession of that miserablewoman, you might have made public much that I would prefer to keepprivate. Take the money from a friend, Darby, and as a mark of esteemfor a man. "

"Thank you, my lord, " replied the inspector straightly, "I don't denybut what my conscience and my duty to the Government will allow me totake it since you put it in that way. And as I am not a rich man themoney will be welcome. Thank you!"

With a warm hand-shake the inspector took his departure and Noel offeredup a silent prayer of thankfulness to God that things had turned out soadmirably. His shifty cousin was now dead and there was no longer anydanger that the honor of the family, for which so much had beensacrificed, both by himself and Agnes, would be smirched. The young manregretted the death of Mother Cockleshell, who had been so well disposedtoward his wife and himself, but he rejoiced that Chaldea had leftEngland under the guardianship of Kara, as henceforth--if he knewanything of the dwarf's jealous disposition--the girl would trouble himno more. And Silver was dead and buried, which did away with anypossible trouble coming from that quarter. Finally, poor Miss Greeby, who had sinned for love, was out of the way and there was no need to beanxious on her account. Fate had made a clean sweep of all the actors inthe tragedy, and Lambert hoped that this particular play was ended. 

When the inspector went away, Lord Garvington sought out his wife andhis late cousin's widow. To them he reported all that had passed andgave them the joyful assurance that nothing more would be heard inconnection with the late tragic events. Both ladies were delighted. 

"Poor Freddy, " sighed Agnes, who had quite forgiven her brother now thathe had paid for his sins, "he behaved very badly; all the same he hadhis good points, Noel. "

"Ah, he had, he had, " said Lady Garvington, the widow, shaking heruntidy head, "he was selfish and greedy, and perhaps not so thoughtfulas he might have been, but there are worse people than poor Freddy. "

Noel could not help smiling at this somewhat guarded eulogy of the dead, but did not pursue the subject. "Well, Jane, you must not grieve toomuch. "

"No, I shall not, " she admitted bluntly, "I am going to be quiet for afew months and then perhaps I may marry again. But I shall marry a manwho lives on nuts and roots, my dear Noel. Never again, " she shuddered, "shall I bother about the kitchen. I shall burn Freddy's recipes andcookery books. "

Lady Garvington evidently really felt relieved by the death of hergreedy little husband, although she tried her best to appear sorry. Butthe twinkle of relief in her eyes betrayed her, and neither Noel norAgnes could blame her. She had enough to live on--since the new lord hadarranged this in a most generous manner--and she was free from the caresof the kitchen. 

"So I'll go to London in a few days when I've packed up, " said the widownodding, "you two dears can stay here for your second honeymoon. "

"It will be concerned with pounds, shillings, and pence, then, " saidAgnes with a smile, "for Noel has to get the estate put in order. Things are very bad just now, as I know for certain. But we must try tosave The Manor from going out of the family. "

It was at this moment, and while the trio wondered how the financialcondition of the Lamberts was to be improved, that a message came sayingthat Mr. Jarwin wished to see Lord and Lady Garvington in the library. Wondering what the lawyer had come about, and dreading further bad news, the young couple descended, leaving the widow to her packing up. Theyfound the lean, dry solicitor waiting for them with a smiling face. 

"Oh!" said Agnes as she greeted him, "then it's not bad news?"

"On the contrary, " said Jarwin, with his cough, "it is the best ofnews. "

Noel looked at him hard. "The best of news to me at the present momentwould be information about money, " he said slowly. "I have a title, itis true, but the estate is much encumbered. "

"You need not trouble about that, Lord Garvington; Mrs. Stanley has putall that right. "

"What?" asked Agnes greatly agitated. "Has she made over the mortgagesto Noel? Oh, if she only has. "

"She has done better than that, " remarked Jarwin, producing a paper ofno great size, "this is her will. She wanted to make a deed of gift, andprobably would have done so had she lived. But luckily she made thewill--and a hard-and-fast one it is--for I drew it up myself, " said Mr. Jarwin complacently. 

"How does the will concern us?" asked Agnes, catching Noel's hand with atremor, for she could scarcely grasp the hints of the lawyer. 

"Mrs. Stanley, my dear lady, had a great regard for you since you nursedher through a dangerous illness. Also you were, as she put it, a goodand true wife to her grandson. Therefore, as she approved of you and ofyour second marriage, she has left the entire fortune of your latehusband to you and to Lord Garvington here. "

"Never!" cried Lambert growing pale, while his wife gasped withastonishment. 

"It is true, and here is the proof, " Jarwin shook the parchment, "onemillion to you, Lord Garvington, and one million to your wife. Listen, if you please, " and the solicitor read the document in a formal mannerwhich left no doubt as to the truth of his amazing news. When hefinished the lucky couple looked at one another scarcely able to speak. It was Agnes who recovered her voice first. 

"Oh, it can't be true--it can't be true, " she cried. "Noel, pinch me, for I must be dreaming. "

"It is true, as the will gives you to understand, " said the lawyer, smiling in his dry way, "and if I may be permitted to say so, LadyGarvington, never was money more rightfully inherited. You surrenderedeverything for the sake of true love, and it is only just that youshould be rewarded. If Mrs. Stanley had lived she intended to keep fiveor six thousand for herself so that she could transport certain gypsiesto America, but she would undoubtedly have made a deed of gift of therest of the property. Oh, what a very fortunate thing it was that shemade this will, " cried Jarwin, genuinely moved at the thought of thepossible loss of the millions, "for her unforeseen death would havespoiled everything if I had not the forethought to suggest thetestament. "

"It is to you we owe our good fortune. "

"To Mrs. Gentilla Stanley--and to me partially. I only ask for my rewardthat you will continue to allow me to see after the property. The fees, "added Jarwin with his dry cough, "will be considerable. "

"You can rob us if you like, " said Noel, slapping him on the back. "Well, to say that I am glad is to speak weakly. I am overjoyed. Withthis money we can restore the fortunes of the family again. "

"They will be placed higher than they have ever been before, " criedAgnes with a shining face. "Two millions. Oh, what a lot of good we cando. "

"To yourselves?" inquired Jarwin dryly. 

"And to others also, " said Lambert gravely. "God has been so good to usthat we must be good to others. "

"Then be good to me, Lord Garvington, " said the solicitor, putting awaythe will in his bag, "for I am dying of hunger. A little luncheon--"

"A very big one. "

"I am no great eater, " said Jarwin, and walked toward the door, "a washand brush-up and a plate of soup will satisfy me. And I will say againwhat I said before to both of you, that you thoroughly deserve your goodfortune. Lord Garvington, you are the luckier of the two, as you have awife who is far above rubies, and--and--dear me, I am talking romance. So foolish at my age. To think--well--well, I am extremely hungry, sodon't let luncheon be long before it appears, " and with a croaking laughat his jokes the lawyer disappeared. 

Left alone the fortunate couple fell into one another's arms. It seemedincredible that the past storm should have been succeeded by sowonderful a calm. They had been tested by adversity, and they had provedthemselves to be of sterling metal. Before them the future stretched ina long, smooth road under sunny blue skies, and behind them the blackclouds, out of which they had emerged, were dispersing into thin air. Evil passes, good endures. 

"Two millions!" sighed Agnes joyfully. 

"Of red money, " remarked her husband. 

"Why do you call it that?"

"Mother Cockleshell--bless her!--called it so because it was taintedwith blood. But we must cleanse the stains, Agnes, by using much of itto help all that are in trouble. God has been good in settling ouraffairs in this way, but He has given me a better gift than the money. "

"What is that?" asked Lady Garvington softly. 

"The love of my dear wife, " said the happiest of men to the happiest ofwomen. 

THE END. 

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