SIMON

 BY

 J. STORER CLOUSTON

 AUTHOR OF "THE MAN FROM THE CLOUDS, " "THE SPY IN BLACK, " "THE LUNATIC AT LARGE, " ETC. 

 NEW YORK GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

 COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. The Solitary Passenger 9 II. The Procurator Fiscal 16 III. The Heir 23 IV. The Man from the West 31 V. The Third Visitor 40 VI. At Night 48 VII. The Drive Home 56 VIII. Sir Reginald 67 IX. A Philosopher 74 X. The Letter 80 XI. News 89 XII. Cicely 100 XIII. The Deductive Process 106 XIV. The Question of Motive 114 XV. Two Women 123 XVI. Rumour 128 XVII. A Suggestion 135 XVIII. £1200 143 XIX. The Empty Compartment 148 XX. The Sporting Visitor 154 XXI. Mr. Carrington's Walk 161 XXII. Mr. Carrington and the Fiscal 168 XXIII. Simon's Views 176 XXIV. Mr. Bisset's Assistant 185 XXV. A Telegram 196 XXVI. At Stanesland 201 XXVII. Flight 209 XXVIII. The Return 216 XXIX. Brother and Sister 224 XXX. A Marked Man 229 XXXI. The Letter Again 240 XXXII. The Sympathetic Stranger 247 XXXIII. The House of Mysteries 253 XXXIV. A Confidential Conversation 261 XXXV. In the Garden 271 XXXVI. The Walking Stick 278 XXXVII. Bisset's Advice 285 XXXVIII. Trapped 291 XXXIX. The Yarn 301 XL. The Last Chapter 312

SIMON

I

THE SOLITARY PASSENGER

The train had come a long journey and the afternoon was wearing on. The passenger in the last third class compartment but one, lookingout of the window sombrely and intently, saw nothing now but desolatebrown hills and a winding lonely river, very northern looking underthe autumnal sky. 

He was alone in the carriage, and if any one had happened to study hismovements during the interminable journey, they would have concludedthat for some reason he seemed to have a singularly strong inclinationfor solitude. In fact this was at least the third compartment he hadoccupied, for whenever a fellow traveller entered, he unostentatiouslydescended, and in a moment had slipped, also unostentatiously, into anempty carriage. Finally he had selected one at the extreme end of thetrain, a judicious choice which had ensured privacy for the last coupleof hours. 

When the train at length paused in the midst of the moorlands and forsome obscure reason this spot was selected for the examination oftickets, another feature of this traveller's character became apparent. He had no ticket, he confessed, but named the last station as his placeof departure and the next as his destination. Being an entirelyrespectable looking person, his statement was accepted and he slippedthe change for half a crown into his pocket; just as he had done anumber of times previously in the course of his journey. Evidently thepassenger was of an economical as well as of a secretive disposition. 

As the light began to fade and the grey sky to change into a deepergrey, and the lighted train to glitter through the darkening moors, andhe could see by his watch that their distant goal was now within anhour's journey, the man showed for the first time signs of a livelierinterest. He peered out keenly into the dusk as though recognising oldlandmarks, and now and then he shifted in his seat restlessly and alittle nervously. 

He was a man of middle age or upwards, of middle height, and thickset. Round his neck he wore a muffler, so drawn up as partially to concealthe lower part of his face, and a black felt hat was drawn down overhis eyes. Between them could be seen only the gleam of his eyes, thetip of his nose, and the stiff hairs of a grizzled moustache. 

Out of his overcoat pocket he pulled a pipe and for a moment looked atit doubtfully, and then, as if the temptation were irresistible, hetook out a tobacco pouch too. It was almost flat and he jealouslypicked up a shred that fell on the floor, and checked himself at lastwhen the bowl was half filled. And then for a while he smoked veryslowly, savouring each whiff. 

When they stopped at the last station or two, the reserved and exclusivedisposition of this traveller became still more apparent. Not only washe so muffled up as to make recognition by an unwelcome acquaintanceexceedingly difficult, but so long as they paused at the stations he satwith his face resting on his hand, and when they moved on again, an airof some relief was apparent. 

But a still more remarkable instance of this sensitive passion forprivacy appeared when the train stopped at the ticket platform justoutside its final destination. Even as they were slowing down, he fellon his knees and then stretched himself at full length on the floor, andwhen the door was flung open for an instant, the compartment was to allappearances empty. Only when they were well under way again did thisretiring traveller emerge from beneath the seat. 

And when he did emerge, his conduct continued to be of a piece with thiscurious performance. He glanced out of the window for an instant at thelights of the platform ahead, and the groups under them, and the arch ofthe station roof against the night sky, and then swiftly stepped acrossthe carriage and gently opened the door on the wrong side. By the timethe train was fairly at rest, the door had been as quietly closed againand the man was picking his way over the sleepers in the darkness, pastthe guard's van and away from the station and publicity. Certainly hehad succeeded in achieving a singularly economical and private journey. 

For a few minutes he continued to walk back along the line, and thenafter a wary look all round him, he sprang up the low bank at the side, threw his leg over a wire fence, and with infinite care began to makehis way across a stubble field. As he approached the wall on the furtherside of the field his precautions increased. He listened intently, crouched down once or twice, and when at last he reached the wall, hepeered over it very carefully before he mounted and dropped on the otherside. 

"Well, " he murmured, "I'm here, by God, at last!"

He was standing now in a road on the outskirts of the town. On the onehand it led into a dim expanse of darkened country; on the other thelights of the town twinkled. Across the road, a few villas stood backamidst trees, with gates opening on to a footpath, the outlying housesof the town; and the first lamp-post stood a little way down this path. The man crossed the road and turned townwards, walking slowly andapparently at his ease. What seemed to interest him now was not his ownneed for privacy but the houses and gates he was passing. At one opengate in particular he half paused and then seemed to spy something aheadthat altered his plans. Under a lamp-post a figure appeared to belingering, and at the sight of this, the man drew his hat still moreclosely over his face and moved on. 

As he drew near the lamp the forms of two youths became manifest, apparently loitering there idly. The man kept his eyes on the ground, passed them at a brisk walk and went on his way into the town. 

"Damn them!" he muttered. 

This incident seemed to have deranged his plans a little for hismovements during the next half hour were so purposeless as to suggestthat he was merely putting in time. Down one street and up another hewalked, increasing his pace when he had to pass any fellow walkers, andthen again falling slow at certain corners and looking round himcuriously as though those dark lanes and half-lit streets werereminiscent. 

Even seen in the light of the infrequent lamps and the rays from thinlyblinded windows, it was evidently but a small country town of a hard, grey stone, northern type. The ends of certain lanes seemed to open intothe empty country itself, and one could hear the regular cadence ofwaves hard by upon a shore. 

"It doesn't seem to have changed much, " said the man to himself. 

He worked his way round, like one quite familiar with the route hefollowed, till at length he drew near the same quiet country road whencehe had started. This time he stopped for a few minutes in the thickestshadow and scanned each dim circle of radiance ahead. Nobody seemed nowto be within the rays of the lamps or to be moving in the darknessbetween. He went on warily till he had come nearly to the same open gatewhere he had paused before, and then there fell upon his ears the soundof steps behind him and he stopped again and looked sharply over hisshoulder. 

Somebody was following, but at a little distance off, and afterhesitating for an instant, he seemed to make up his mind to risk it, andturned swiftly and stealthily through the gates. A short drive of somepretentions ran between trees and then curved round towards the house, but there was no lodge or any sign of a possible watcher, and the manadvanced for a few yards swiftly and confidently enough. And then hestopped abruptly. Under the shade of the trees the drive ahead was pitchdark, but footsteps and voices were certainly coming from the house. Inan instant he had vanished into the belt of plantation along one side ofthe drive. 

The footsteps and voices ceased, and then the steps began again, timidlyat first and then hurriedly. The belt of shrubs and trees was just thickenough to hide a man perfectly on a moonless cloudy night like this. Yeton either side the watcher could see enough of what was beyond to notethat he stood between the dark drive on one hand and a lighter space ofopen garden on the other, and he could even catch a glimpse of thehouse against the sky. Light shone brightly from the fanlight over thefront door, and less distinctly from one window upstairs and through theslats of a blind in a downstairs room. For a moment he looked in thatdirection and then intently watched the drive. 

The footsteps by this time were almost on the run. The vague forms oftwo women passed swiftly and he could see their faces dimly turnedtowards him as they hurried by. They passed through the gates and weregone, and then a minute later men's voices in the road cried out agreeting. And after that the silence fell profound. 

II

THE PROCURATOR FISCAL

The procurator fiscal breakfasted at 8. 30, punctually, and at 8. 30as usual he entered his severely upholstered dining-room and shut thdoor behind him. The windows looked into a spacious garden with a beltof trees leading up to the house from the gate, and this morning Mr. Rattar, who was a machine for habit, departed in one trifling particularfrom his invariable routine. Instead of sitting straight down to thebusiness of breakfasting, he stood for a minute or two at the windowgazing into the garden, and then he came to the table very thoughtfully. 

No man in that northern county was better known or more widelyrespected than Mr. Simon Rattar. In person, he was a thickset man ofmiddle height and elderly middle age, with cold steady eyes andgrizzled hair. His clean shaved face was chiefly remarkable for thehardness of his tight-shut mouth, and the obstinacy of the chin beneathit. Professionally, he was lawyer to several of the larger landownersand factor on their estates, and lawyer and adviser also to many otherpeople in various stations in life. Officially, he was procurator fiscalfor the county, the setter in motion of all criminal processes, andgeneralissimo, so to speak, of the police; and one way and another, hehad the reputation of being a very comfortably well off gentlemanindeed. 

As for his abilities, they were undeniably considerable, of the hard, cautious, never-caught-asleep order; and his taciturn manner and way ofdrinking in everything said to him while he looked at you out of hissteady eyes, and then merely nodded and gave a significant little gruntat the end, added immensely to his reputation for profound wisdom. People were able to quote few definite opinions uttered by "SilentSimon, " but any that could be quoted were shrewdness itself. 

He was a bachelor, and indeed, it was difficult for the most fanciful toimagine Silent Simon married. Even in his youth he had not beenattracted by the other sex, and his own qualities certainly did notattract them. Not that there was a word to be said seriously againsthim. Hard and shrewd though he was, his respectability was extreme andhis observance of the conventions scrupulous to a fault. He was an elderof the Kirk, a non-smoker, an abstemious drinker (to be an out and outteetotaler would have been a little too remarkable in those regions fora man of Mr. Rattar's conventional tastes), and indeed in all respectshe trod that sober path that leads to a semi-public funeral and a vastblock of granite in the parish kirkyard. 

He had acquired his substantial villa and large garden by a very shrewdbargain a number of years ago, and he lived there with just the decencythat his condition in life enjoined, but with not a suspicion of displaybeyond it. He kept a staff of two competent and respectable girls, justenough to run a house of that size, but only just; and when he wanted todrive abroad he hired a conveyance exactly suitable to the occasion fromthe most respectable hotel. His life, in short, was ordered to the verybest advantage possible. 

Enthusiastic devotion to such an extremely exemplary gentleman was alittle difficult, but in his present housemaid, Mary MacLean, he had agirl with a strong Highland strain of fidelity to a master, and aninstinctive devotion to his interests, even if his person was hardly thechieftain her heart demanded. She was a soft voiced, anxious lookingyoung woman, almost pretty despite her nervous high strung air, and of aquiet and modest demeanour. 

Soon after her master had begun breakfast, Mary entered the dining-roomwith an apologetic air, but a conscientious eye. 

"Begging your pardon, sir, " she began, "but I thought I ought to tellyou that when cook and me was going out to the concert last night wethought we saw _something_ in the drive. "

Mr. Rattar looked up at her sharply and fixed his cold eyes on hersteadily for a moment, never saying a word. It was exactly his ordinaryhabit, and she had thought she was used to it by now, yet this morningshe felt oddly disconcerted. Then it struck her that perhaps it was thered cut on his chin that gave her this curious feeling. Silent Simon'shand was as steady as a rock and she never remembered his having cuthimself shaving before; certainly not as badly as this. 

"Saw 'something'?" he repeated gruffly. "What do you mean?"

"It looked like a man, sir, and it seemed to move into the trees almostas quick as we saw it!"

"Tuts!" muttered Simon. 

"But there was two friends of ours meeting us in the road, " she hurriedon, "and they thought they saw a man going in at the gate!"

Her master seemed a little more impressed. 

"Indeed?" said he. 

"So I thought it was my duty to tell you, sir. "

"Quite right, " said he. 

"For I felt sure it couldn't just be a gentleman coming to see you, sir, or he wouldn't have gone into the trees. "

"Of course not, " he agreed briefly. "Nobody came to see me. "

Mary looked at him doubtfully and hesitated for a moment. 

"Didn't you even hear anything, sir?" she asked in a lowered voice. 

Her master's quick glance made her jump. 

"Why?" he demanded. 

"Because, sir, I found footsteps in the gravel this morning--where it'ssoft with the rain, sir, just under the library window. "

Mr. Rattar looked first hard at her and then at his plate. For severalseconds he answered nothing, and then he said:

"I did hear some one. "

There was something both in his voice and in his eye as he said thisthat was not quite like the usual Simon Rattar. Mary began to feel asympathetic thrill. 

"Did you look out of the window, sir?" she asked in a hushed voice. 

Her master nodded and pursed his lips. 

"But you didn't see him, sir?"

"No, " said he. 

"Who could it have been, sir?"

"I have been wondering, " he said, and then he threw a sudden glance ather that made her hurry for the door. It was not that it was an angrylook, but that it was what she called so "queer-like. "

Just as she went out she noted another queer-like circumstance. Mr. Rattar had stretched out his hand towards the toast rack while he spoke. The toast stuck between the bars, and she caught a glimpse of an angrytwitch that upset the rack with a clatter. Never before had she seen themaster do a thing of that kind. 

A little later the library bell called her. Mr. Rattar had finishedbreakfast and was seated beside the fire with a bundle of legal paperson a small table beside him, just as he always sat, absorbed in work, before he started for his office. The master's library impressed Maryvastly. The furniture was so substantial, new-looking, and conspicuousfor the shininess of the wood and the brightness of the red moroccoseats to the chairs. And it was such a tidy room--no litter of papers orbooks, nothing ever out of place, no sign even of pipe, tobacco jar, cigarette or cigar. The only concession to the vices were the ornate ashtray and the massive globular glass match box on the square table in themiddle of the room, and they were manifestly placed there for thebenefit of visitors merely. Even they, Mary thought, were admirable asornaments, and she was concerned to note that there was no nicered-headed bundle of matches in the glass match box this morning. Whathad become of them she could not imagine, but she resolved to repairthis blemish as soon as the master had left the house. 

"I don't want you to go gossiping about this fellow who came into thegarden, last night, " he began. 

"Oh, no, sir!" said she. 

Simon shot her a glance that seemed compounded of doubt and warning. 

"As procurator fiscal, it is my business to inquire into such affairs. I'll see to it. "

"Oh, yes, sir; I know, " said she. "It seemed so impudent like of the mancoming into the fiscal's garden of all places!"

Simon grunted. It was his characteristic reply when no words wereabsolutely necessary. 

"That's all, " said he, "don't gossip! Remember, if we want to catch theman, the quieter we keep the better. "

Mary went out, impressed with the warning, but still more deeplyimpressed with something else. Gossip with cook of course was not to becounted as gossip in the prohibited sense, and when she returned to thekitchen, she unburdened her Highland heart. 

"The master's no himsel'!" she said. "I tell you, Janet, never have Iseen Mr. Rattar look the way he looked at breakfast, nor yet the way helooked in the library!"

Cook was a practical person and apt to be a trifle unsympathetic. 

"He couldna be bothered with your blethering most likely!" said she. 

"Oh, it wasna that!" said Mary very seriously. "Just think yoursel' howwould you like to be watched through the window at the dead of night asyou were sitting in your chair? The master's feared of yon man, Janet!"

Even Janet was a little impressed by her solemnity. 

"It must have taken something to make silent Simon feared!" said she. 

Mary's voice fell. 

"It's my opinion, the master knows more than he let on to me. Thethought that came into my mind when he was talking to me was just--'Theman feels he's being _watched_!'"

"Oh, get along wi' you and your Hieland fancies!" said cook, but shesaid it a little uncomfortably. 

III

THE HEIR

At 9. 45 precisely Mr. Rattar arrived at his office, just as he hadarrived every morning since his clerks could remember. He nodded curtlyas usual to his head clerk, Mr. Ison, and went into his room. Hisletters were always laid out on his desk and from twenty minutes to halfan hour were generally spent by him in running through them. Then hewould ring for Mr. Ison and begin to deal with the business of the day. But on this morning the bell went within twelve minutes, as Mr. Ison (amost precise person) noted on the clock. 

"Bring the letter book, " said Mr. Rattar. "And the business ledger. "

"Letter book and business ledger?" repeated Mr. Ison, looking a littlesurprised. 

Mr. Rattar nodded. 

The head clerk turned away and then paused and glanced at the bundle ofpapers Mr. Rattar had brought back with him. He had expected these to bedealt with first thing. 

"About this Thomson business--" he began. 

"It can wait. "

The lawyer's manner was peremptory and the clerk fetched the letterbook and ledger. These contained, between them, a record of all therecent business of the firm, apart from public business and the affairsof one large estate. What could be the reason for such a comprehensiveexamination, Mr. Ison could not divine, but Mr. Rattar never gavereasons unless he chose, and the clerk who would venture to ask him wasnot to be found on the staff of Silent Simon. 

In a minute or two the head clerk returned with the books. This time hewas wearing his spectacles and his first glance through them at Mr. Rattar gave him an odd sensation. The lawyer's mouth was as hard set andhis eyes were as steady as ever. Yet something about his expressionseemed a little unusual. Some unexpected business had turned up todisturb him, Mr. Ison felt sure; and indeed, this seemed certain fromhis request for the letter book and ledger. He now noticed also the cuton his chin, a sure sign that something had interrupted the orderlytenor of Simon Rattar's life, if ever there was one. Mr. Ison tried toguess whose business could have taken such a turn as to make SilentSimon cut himself with his razor, but though he had many virtues, imagination was not among them and he had to confess that it was fairlybeyond James Ison. 

And yet, curiously enough, his one remark to a fellow clerk was notunlike the comment of the imaginative Mary MacLean. 

"The boss has a kin' of unusual look to-day. There was something kin'of suspicious in that eye of his--rather as though he thought someonewas watching him. "

Mr. Rattar had been busy with the books for some twenty minutes when hishead clerk returned. 

"Mr. Malcolm Cromarty to see you, sir, " he said. 

Silent Simon looked at him hard, and it was evident to his clerk thathis mind had been extraordinarily absorbed, for he simply repeated in acurious way:

"Mr. _Malcolm_ Cromarty?"

"Yes, sir, " said Mr. Ison, and then as even this seemed scarcely to becomprehended, he added, "Sir Reginald's cousin. "

"Ah, of course!" said Mr. Rattar. "Well, show him in. "

The young man who entered was evidently conscious of being a superiorperson. From the waviness of his hair and the studied negligence of histie (heliotrope with a design in old gold), it seemed probable that hehad literary or artistic claims to be superior to the herd. And from thedeference with which Mr. Ison had pronounced his name and his ownslightly condescending manner, it appeared that he felt himself in otherrespects superior to Mr. Rattar. He was of medium height, slender, anddark-haired. His features were remarkably regular, and though his facewas somewhat small, there could be no doubt that he was extremely goodlooking, especially to a woman's eye, who would be more apt than afellow man to condone something a little supercilious in his smile. 

The attire of Mr. Malcolm Cromarty was that of the man of fashiondressed for the country, with the single exception of the tie whichintimated to the discerning that here was no young man of fashionmerely, but likewise a young man of ideas. That he had written, or atleast was going to write, or else that he painted or was about to paint, was quite manifest. The indications, however, were not sufficientlypronounced to permit one to suspect him of fiddling, or even of beingabout to fiddle. 

This young gentleman's manner as he shook hands with the lawyer and thentook a chair was on the surface cheerful and politely condescending. Yetafter his first greeting, and when he was seated under Simon'sinscrutable eye, there stole into his own a hint of quite anotheremotion. If ever an eye revealed apprehension it was Malcolm Cromarty'sat that instant. 

"Well, Mr. Rattar, here I am again, you see, " said he with a littlelaugh; but it was not quite a spontaneous laugh. 

"I see, Mr. Cromarty, " said Simon laconically. 

"You have been expecting to hear from me before, I suppose, " the youngman went on, "but the fact is I've had an idea for a story and I've beendevilish busy sketching it out. "

Simon grunted and gave a little nod. One would say that he was studyinghis visitor with exceptional attention. 

"Ideas come to one at the most inconvenient times, " the young authorexplained with a smile, and yet with a certain hurried utterance notusually associated with smiles, "one just has to shoot the bird when hehappens to come over your head, don't you know, you can't send inbeaters after that kind of fowl, Mr. Rattar. And when he does come out, there you are! You have to make hay while the sun shines. "

Again the lawyer nodded, and again he made no remark. The apprehensionin his visitor's eye increased, his smile died away, and suddenly heexclaimed:

"For God's sake, Mr. Rattar, say something! I meant honestly to pay youback--I felt sure I could sell that last thing of mine before now, butnot a word yet from the editor I sent it to!"

Still there came only a guarded grunt from Simon and the young man wenton with increasing agitation. 

"You won't give me away to Sir Reginald, will you? He's been damnedcrusty with me lately about money matters, as it is. If you make medesperate----!" He broke off and gazed dramatically into space for amoment, and then less dramatically at his lawyer. 

Silent Simon was proverbially cautious, but it seemed to his visitorthat his demeanour this morning exceeded all reasonable limits. Fornearly a minute he answered absolutely nothing, and then he said veryslowly and deliberately:

"I think it would be better, Mr. Cromarty, if you gave me a brief, explicit statement of how you got into this mess. "

"Dash it, you know too well--" began Cromarty. 

"It would make you realise your own position more clearly, " interruptedthe lawyer. "You want me to assist you, I take it?"

"Rather--if you will!"

"Well then, please do as I ask you. You had better start at thebeginning of your relations with Sir Reginald. "

Malcolm Cromarty's face expressed surprise, but the lawyer's wasdistinctly less severe, and he began readily enough:

"Well, of course, as you know, my cousin Charles Cromarty died about 18months ago and I became the heir to the baronetcy--" he broke off andasked, "Do you mean you want me to go over all that?"

Simon nodded, and he went on:

"Sir Reginald was devilish good at first--in his own patronising way, let me stay at Keldale as often and as long as I liked, made me anallowance and so on; but there was always this fuss about my taking upsomething a little more conventional than literature. Ha, ha!" The youngman laughed in a superior way and then looked apprehensively at theother. "But I suppose you agree with Sir Reginald?"

Simon pursed his lips and made a non-committal sound. 

"Well, anyhow, he wanted me to be called to the Bar or something of thatkind, and then there was a fuss about money--his ideas of an allowanceare rather old fashioned, as you know. And then you were good enough tohelp me with that loan, and--well, that's all, isn't it?"

Mr. Rattar had been listening with extreme attention. He now nodded, anda smile for a moment seemed to light his chilly eyes. 

"I see that you quite realise your position, Mr. Cromarty, " he said. 

"Realise it!" cried the young man. "My God, I'm in a worse hole----" hebroke off abruptly. 

"Worse than you have admitted to me?" said Simon quickly and again witha smile in his eye. 

Malcolm Cromarty hesitated, "Sir Reginald is so damned narrow! If hewants to drive me to the devil--well, let him! But I say, Mr. Rattar, what are you going to do?"

For some moments Simon said nothing. At length he answered:

"I shall not press for repayment at present. "

His visitor rose with a sigh of relief and as he said good-bye hiscondescending manner returned as readily as it had gone. 

"Good morning and many thanks, " said he, and then hesitated for aninstant. "You couldn't let me have a very small cheque, just to be goingon with, could you?"

"Not this morning, Mr. Cromarty. "

Mr. Cromarty's look of despair returned. 

"Well, " he cried darkly as he strode to the door, "people who treat aman in my position like this are responsible for--er----!" The bangingof the door left their precise responsibility in doubt. 

Simon Rattar gazed after him with an odd expression. It seemed tocontain a considerable infusion of complacency. And then he rang for hisclerk. 

"Get me the Cromarty estate letter book, " he commanded. 

The book was brought and this time he had about ten minutes to himselfbefore the clerk entered again. 

"Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland to see you, sir, " he announced. 

This announcement seemed to set the lawyer thinking hard. Then in hisabrupt way he said:

"Show him in. "

IV

THE MAN FROM THE WEST

Mr. Rattar's second visitor was of a different type. Mr. Cromarty ofStanesland stood about 6 feet two and had nothing artistic in hisappearance, being a lean strapping man in the neighbourhood of forty, with a keen, thin, weather-beaten face chiefly remarkable for itsstraight sharp nose, compressed lips, reddish eye-brows, puckered into aslight habitual frown, and the fact that the keen look of the whole wasexpressed by only one of his eyes, the other being a good imitation butunmistakeably glass. The whole effect of the face, however, wassingularly pleasing to the discerning critic. An out of door, reckless, humorous, honest personality was stamped on every line of it and everymovement of the man. When he spoke his voice had a marked tinge of thetwang of the wild west that sounded a little oddly on the lips of acountry gentleman in these northern parts. He wore an open flannelcollar, a shooting coat, well cut riding breeches and immaculate leatherleggings, finished off by a most substantial pair of shooting boots. Unlike Mr. Malcolm Cromarty, he evidently looked upon his visit asexpected. 

"Good morning, Mr. Rattar, " said he, throwing his long form into theclients' chair as he spoke. "Well, I guess you've got some good advicefor me this morning. "

Simon Rattar was proverbially cautious, but to-day his caution struckhis visitor as quite remarkable. 

"Um, " he grunted. "Advice, Mr. Cromarty? Umph!"

"Don't trouble beating about the bush, " said the tall man. "I've beenfiguring things out myself and so far as I can see, it comes tothis:--that loan from Sir Reginald put me straight in the meantime, butI've got to cut down expense all round to keep straight, and I've got topay him back. Of course you know his way when it's one of the clan he'sdealing with. 'My dear Ned, no hurry whatever. If you send my heir acheque some day after I'm gone it will have the added charm ofsurprise!' Well, that's damned decent, but hardly business. I want toget the whole thing off my chest. Got the statement made up?"

Simon shook his head. 

"Very sorry, Mr. Cromarty. Haven't had time yet. "

"Hell!" said Mr. Cromarty, though in a cheerful voice, and then addedwith an engaging smile, "Pardon me, Mr. Rattar. I'm trying to geteducated out of strong language, but, Lord, at my time of life it's notso damned--I mean dashed easy!"

Even Simon Rattar's features relaxed for an instant into a smile. 

"And who is educating you?" he enquired. 

Mr. Cromarty looked a little surprised. 

"Who but the usual lady? Gad, I've told you before of my sister's wellmeant efforts. It's a stiff job making a retired cow puncher into a highgrade laird. However, I can smoke without spitting now, which is a stepon the road towards being a Lord Chesterfield. "

He smiled humorously, stretched out his long legs and added:

"It's a nuisance, your not having that statement ready. When I've got todo business I like pushing it through quick. That's an American habit Idon't mean to get rid of, Mr. Rattar. "

Mr. Rattar nodded his approval. 

"Certainly not, " said he. 

"I've put down my car, " his visitor continued. "Drive a buggy now--begits pardon, a trap, and a devilish nice little mare I've got in her too. In fact, there are plenty of consolations for whatever you have to do inthis world. I'm only sorry for my sister's sake that I have to draw inmy horns a bit. Women like a bit of a splash--at least judging from thecomparatively little I know of 'em. "

"Miss Cromarty doesn't complain, I hope?"

"Oh, I think she's beginning to see the necessity for reform. You see, when both my civilised elder brothers died----" he broke off, and thenadded: "But you know the whole story. "

"I would--er--like to refresh my memory, " said Simon; and there seemedto be a note of interest and almost of eagerness in his voice thatappeared to surprise his visitor afresh. 

"First time I ever heard of your memory needing refreshing!" laughed hisvisitor. "Well, you know how I came back from the wild and woolly westand tried to make a comfortable home for Lilian. We were neither of uslikely to marry at our time of life, and there were just the two of usleft, and we'd both of us knocked about quite long enough on our own, and so why not settle down together in the old place and be comfortable?At least that's how it struck me. Of course, as you know, we hadn't metfor so long that we were practically strangers and she knew the ways ofcivilisation better than me, and I gave her a pretty free hand insetting up the establishment. I don't blame her, mind you, for settingthe pace a bit too fast to last. My own blamed fault entirely. However, we aren't in a very deep hole, thank the Lord. In fact if I hadn't gotto pay Sir Reginald back the £1, 200 it would be all right, so far I canfigure out. But I want your exact statement, Mr. Rattar, and as quick asyou can let me have it. "

Simon nodded and grunted. 

"You'll get it. " And then he added: "I think I can assure you there isnothing to be concerned about. "

Ned Cromarty smiled and a reckless light danced for a moment in his oneefficient eye. 

"I guess I almost wish there were something to be concerned about! SirReginald is always telling me I'm the head of the oldest branch of thewhole Cromarty family and it's my duty to live in the house of myancestors and be an ornament to the county, and all the rest of it. ButI tell you it's a damned quiet life for a man who's had his eye put outwith a broken whisky bottle and hanged the man who did it with his ownhands!"

"Hanged him!" exclaimed the lawyer sharply. 

"Oh, it wasn't merely for the eye. That gave the performance a kind ofrelish it would otherwise have lacked, being a cold-blooded ceremony anda little awkward with the apparatus we had. We hanged him for murder, asa matter of fact. Now, between ourselves, Mr. Rattar, we don't want tocrab our own county, but you must confess that real good serious crimeis devilish scarce here, eh?"

Cromarty's eye was gleaming humorously, and Simon Rattar might have beenthought the kind of tough customer who would have been amused by thejoke. He seemed, however, to be affected unpleasantly and even a littlestartled. 

"I--I trust we don't, " he said. 

"Well, " his visitor agreed, "as it means that something or somebody hasgot to be sacrificed to start the sport of man-hunting, I supposethere's something to be said for the quiet life. But personally I'dsooner be after men than grouse, from the point of view of gettingthorough satisfaction while it lasts. My sister says it means I haven'tsettled down properly yet--calls me the bold bad bachelor!"

Through this speech Simon seemed to be looking at his visitor with anattention that bordered on fascination, and it was apparently with aslight effort that he asked at the end:

"Well, why don't you marry?"

"Marry!" exclaimed Ned Cromarty. "And where will you find the ladythat's to succumb to my fascinations? I'm within a month of forty, Mr. Rattar, I've the mind, habits, and appearance of a backwoodsman, andI've one working eye left. A female collector of antique curiosities, orsomething in the nature of a retired wardress might take on the job, butI can't think of any one else!"

He laughed as he spoke, and yet something remarkably like a sighfollowed the laugh, and for a moment after he had ceased speaking hiseye looked abstractedly into space. 

Before either spoke again, the door opened and the clerk, seeing Mr. Rattar was still engaged, murmured a "beg pardon" and was about toretire again. 

"What is it?" asked the lawyer. 

"Miss Farmond is waiting to see you, sir. "

"I'll let you know when I'm free, " said Simon. 

Had his eye been on his visitor as his clerk spoke, he might havenoticed a curious commentary on Mr. Cromarty's professed lack ofinterest in womankind. His single eye lit up for an instant and hemoved sharply in his chair, and then as suddenly repressed all sign ofinterest. 

A minute or two later the visitor jumped up. 

"Well, " said he, "I guess you're pretty busy and I've been talking toolong as it is. Let me have that statement as quick as you like. Goodmorning!"

He strode to the door, shut it behind him, and then when he was on thelanding, his movements became suddenly more leisurely. Instead ofstriding downstairs he stood looking curiously in turn at each closeddoor. It was an old fashioned house and rather a rabbit warren of anoffice, and it would seem as though for some reason he wished to leaveno door unwatched. In a moment he heard the lawyer's bell ring and veryslowly he moved down a step or two while a clerk answered the call andwithdrew. And then he took a cigar from his case, bit off the end, andfelt for matches; all this being very deliberately done, and his eyefollowing the clerk. Thus when a girl emerged from the room along apassage, she met, apparently quite accidentally, Mr. Cromarty ofStanesland. 

At the first glance it was quite evident that the meeting gave morepleasure to the gentleman than to the lady. Indeed, the girl seemed toodisconcerted to hide the fact. 

"Good morning, Miss Farmond, " said he with what seemed intended for anair of surprise; as though he had no idea she had been within a mile ofhim. "You coming to see Simon on business too?" And then taking the cuefrom her constrained manner, he added hurriedly, and with a note ofdejection he could not quite hide, "Well, good-bye. "

The girl's expression suddenly changed, and with that change the lairdof Stanesland's curious movements became very explicable, for her facewas singularly charming when she smiled. It was a rather pale but freshand clear-skinned face, wide at the forehead and narrowing to a firmlittle chin, with long-lashed expressive eyes, and a serious expressionin repose. Her smile was candid, a little coy and irresistibly engaging, and her voice was very pleasant, rather low, and most engaging too. Shewas of middle height and dressed in mourning. Her age seemed ratherunder than over twenty. 

"Oh, " she said, with a touch of hesitation at first, "I didn't mean----"She broke off, glanced at the clerk, who being a discreet young man wasnow in the background, and then with lowered voice confessed, "The factis, Mr. Cromarty, I'm not really supposed to be here at all. That's tosay nobody knows I am. "

Mr. Cromarty looked infinitely relieved. 

"And you don't want anybody to know?" he said in his outspoken way. "Right you are. I can lie low and say nothing, or lie hard and say whatyou like; whichever you choose. "

"Lying low will do, " she smiled. "But please don't think I'm doinganything very wrong. "

"I'll think what you tell me, " he said gallantly. "I _was_ thinkingSilent Simon was in luck's way--but perhaps you're going to wig him?"

She laughed and shook her head. 

"Can you imagine me daring to wig Mr. Simon Rattar?"

"I guess he needs waking up now and then like other people. He's beenslacking over my business. In fact, I can't quite make him out thismorning. He's not quite his usual self for some reason. Don't be afraidto wig him if he needs it!"

The clerk in the background coughed and Miss Cicely Farmond movedtowards the door of the lawyer's room, but Ned Cromarty seemed reluctantto end the meeting so quickly. 

"How did you come?" he asked. 

"Walked, " she smiled. 

"Walked! And how are you going back?"

"Walk again. "

"I say, " he suggested eagerly, "I've got my trap in. Let me drive you!"

She hesitated a moment. 

"It's awfully good of you to think of it----"

"That's settled then. I'll be on the look out when you leave old Simon'sden. "

He raised his cap and went downstairs this time without any hesitation. He had forgotten to light his cigar, and it was probably as a substitutefor smoking that he found himself whistling. 

V

THE THIRD VISITOR

Miss Cicely Farmond's air as she entered Simon Rattar's room seemedcompounded of a little shyness, considerable trepidation, and yet moredetermination. In her low voice and with a fleeting smile she wished himgood morning, like an acquaintance with whom she was quite familiar, andthen with a serious little frown, and fixing her engaging eyes verystraight upon him, she made the surprising demand:

"Mr. Rattar, I want you to tell me honestly who I am. "

For an instant Simon's cold eyes opened very wide, and then he wasgazing at her after his usual silent and steadfast manner. 

"Who you are?" he repeated after a few seconds' pause. 

"Yes. Indeed, Mr. Rattar, I _insist_ on knowing!"

Simon smiled slightly. 

"And what makes you think I can assist you to--er--recover youridentity, Miss Farmond?"

"To discover it, not recover it, " she corrected. 

"Don't you really know that I am honestly quite ignorant?"

Mr. Rattar shook his head cautiously. 

"It is not for me to hazard an opinion, " he answered. 

"Oh please, Mr. Rattar, " she exclaimed, "don't be so dreadfullycautious! Surely you can't have thought that I knew all the time!"

Again he was silent for a moment, and then enquired:

"Why do you come to me now?"

"Because I _must_ know! Because--well, because it is so unsatisfactorynot knowing--for various reasons. "

"And why are you so positive that I can tell you?"

"Because all my affairs and arrangements went through your hands, and ofcourse you know!"

Again he seemed to reflect for a moment. 

"May I ask, Miss Farmond, " he enquired, "why, in that case, you think Ishouldn't have told you before, and why--also in that case--I shouldtell you now?"

This enquiry seemed to disconcert Miss Farmond a little. 

"Oh, of course I presume Sir Reginald and you had some reasons, " sheadmitted. 

"And don't you think then we have them still?"

"I can't honestly see why you should make such a mystery ofit--especially as I can guess the truth perfectly easily!"

"If you can guess it----" he began. 

"Oh please don't answer me like that! Why won't you tell me?"

He seemed to consider the point for a moment, and then he said:

"I am not at all sure that I am at liberty to tell you, Miss Farmond, without further consultation. "

"Has Sir Reginald really any good reasons for not telling me?"

"Have you asked him that question?"

"No, " she confessed. "He and Lady Cromarty have been so frightfullykind, and yet so--so reserved on that subject, that I have never likedto ask them direct. But they know that I have guessed, and they haven'tdone anything to prevent me finding out more for myself, which meansthat they really are quite willing to let me find out if I can. "

He shook his head. 

"I am afraid I shall require more authority than that. "

She pursed her lips and looked at the floor in silence, and then sherose. 

"Well, if you absolutely refuse to tell me _anything_, Mr. Rattar, Isuppose----"

A dejected little shrug completed her sentence, and as she turnedtowards the door her eloquent eyes looked at him for a moment beneaththeir long lashes with an expression in them that might have moved astatue. Although Simon Rattar had the reputation of being impervious towoman's wiles, he may have been moved by this unspoken appeal. Hecertainly seemed struck by something, for even as her back was turningtowards him, he said suddenly, and in a distinctly different voice:

"You say you can guess yourself?"

She nodded, and added with a pathetic coaxing note in her low voice:

"But I want to _know_!"

"Supposing, " he suggested, "you were to tell me precisely how much youdo know already, and then I could judge whether the rest might or mightnot be divulged. "

Her face brightened and she returned to her chair with a promptitudethat suggested she was not unaccustomed to win a lost battle with theseweapons. 

"Well, " she said, "it was only six months ago--when mother died--that Ifirst had the least suspicion there was any mystery about me--anythingto hide. I knew she hadn't always been happy and that her trouble hadsomething to do with my father, simply because she hardly ever mentionedhim. But she lived at Eastbourne just like plenty of other widows and wehad a few friends, though never very many, and I was very happy atschool, and so I never troubled much about things. "

"And knew nothing up till six months ago?" asked Simon, who wasfollowing her story very attentively. 

"Nothing at all. Then, about a month after mother's death, I got a notefrom you asking me to go up to London and meet Sir Reginald Cromarty. Ihad never even heard of him before! Well, I went and he was simply askind as--well, as he always is to everybody, and said he was a kind ofconnection of my family and asked me to pay them a long visit toKeldale. "

"How long ago precisely was that?"

She looked a little surprised. 

"Oh, you know exactly. Almost just four months ago, wasn't it?"

He nodded, but said nothing, and she went on:

"From the very first it had seemed very strange that I had never heard aword about the Cromartys from mother, and as soon as I got to Keldaleand met Lady Cromarty, I felt sure there was something wrong. I meanthat I wasn't an ordinary distant relation. For one thing they neverspoke of our relationship and exactly what sort of cousins we were, andconsidering how keen Sir Reginald is on his pedigree and all hisrelations and everybody, that alone made me certain I wasn't theordinary kind. That was obvious, wasn't it?"

"It seems so, " the lawyer admitted cautiously. 

"Of course it was! Well, one day I happened to be looking over an oldphotograph album and suddenly I saw my father's photograph! Mother had aminiature of him--I have it still, and I was certain it was the sameman. I pulled myself together and asked Sir Reginald in a very ordinaryvoice who that was, and I could see that both he and Lady Cromartyjumped a little. He had to tell me it was his brother Alfred and Idiscovered he had long been dead, but I didn't try to get any moreinformation from them. I applied to Bisset. "

She gave a little laugh and looked at him with a touch of defiance. Hisinscrutable countenance appeared to annoy her. 

"Well?" he remarked. 

"Perhaps you think I oughtn't to have gone to a butler about such athing, but Bisset is practically one of the family and I didn't give himthe least idea of what I was after. I simply drew him on the subject ofthe Cromarty family history and among other things--that didn't so muchinterest me--I found that Mr. Alfred Cromarty was never married andseemed to have had rather a gay reputation. "

She looked at him with an expression that would have immediatelyconverted any susceptible man into a fellow conspirator, and asked inher most enticing voice:

"Need you ask what I guessed? What is the use in not telling me simplywhether I have guessed right!"

Silent Simon's face remained a mask. 

"What precisely did you guess?"

"That my mother wasn't married, " she said, her voice falling very low, "and I am really Sir Reginald's niece though he never can acknowledgeit--and I don't want him to! But I do want to be sure. Dear Mr. Rattar, won't you tell me?"

Dear Mr. Rattar never relaxed a muscle. 

"Your guess seems very probable, " he admitted. 

"But tell me definitely. "

"Why?" he enquired coldly. 

"Oh, have you no _curiosity_ yourself--especially about who your parentswere; supposing you didn't know?"

"Then it's only out of curiosity that you enquired?"

"Only!" she repeated with a world of woman's scorn. "But what sort ofmotives did you expect? I have walked in the whole way this morning justto end the suspense of wondering! Of course, I'll never tell a soul youtold me. "

She threw on him a moving smile. 

"You needn't actually tell me outright. Just use some legalword--'Alibi' if I am right and 'forgery' if I'm wrong!"

Silent Simon's sudden glance chilled her smile. She evidently felt shehad been taking the law in vain. 

"I only meant----" she began anxiously. 

"I must consult Sir Reginald, " he interrupted brusquely. 

She made no further effort. That glance seemed to have subdued herspirit. 

"I am sorry I have bothered you, " she said as she went. 

As the door closed behind her, Mr. Rattar took out his handkerchief andwiped his brow and his neck. And then he fell to work again upon therecent records of the firm. Yet, absorbed though he seemed, whenever adoor opened or shut sharply or a step sounded distinctly outside hisroom, he would look up quickly and listen, or that expression would comeinto his eye which both Mary MacLean and Mr. Ison had described as thelook of one who was watched. 

VI

AT NIGHT

When Simon Rattar came to his present villa, he brought from his oldhouse in the middle of the town (which had been his father's before him)a vast accumulation of old books and old papers. Being a man who neverthrew away an opportunity or anything else, and also a person of theutmost tidyness, he compromised by keeping this litter in the sparerooms at the top of the house. In fact Simon was rather pleased atdiscovering this use for his superfluous apartments, for he hatedwasting anything. 

On this same morning, just before he started for his office, he hadagain called his housemaid and given her particular injunctions thatthese rooms were not to be disturbed during the day. He added that thiswas essential because he expected a gentleman that evening who would begoing through some of the old papers with him. 

Perhaps it was the vague feeling of disquiet which possessed MaryMacLean this morning that made his injunction seem a little curious. She had been with the master three years and never presumed or dreamtof presuming to touch his papers. He might have known that, thoughtshe, without having to tell her not to. Indeed, she felt a littleaggrieved at the command, and in the course of the morning she made adiscovery that seemed to her a further reflection on her discretion. 

When she came to dust the passage in which these rooms opened her eyewas at once caught by a sheet of white paper pinned to each of the threedoors. On each of these sheets was written in her master's hand thewords "This room not to be entered. Papers to be undisturbed. " Theresult was a warning to those who take superfluous precautions. Underordinary circumstances Mary would never have thought of touching thehandles of those doors. Now, she looked at them for a few moments andthen tried the handle nearest to her. The door was locked. She tried thesecond and the third, and they stood locked too. And the three keys hadall been removed. 

"To think of the master locking the doors!" said she to herself afterfailing at each in turn. "As if I'd have tried to open them!"

That top storey was of the semi-attic kind, with roofs that slopedand a sky-light in one of them and the slates close overhead. It wasa grey windy morning, and as she stood there, alone in that largehouse save for the cook far away in the kitchen, with a loose slaterattling in the gusts, and a glimpse of clouds driving over thesky-light, she began all at once to feel uncomfortable. Those lockeddoors were uncanny--something was not as it should be; there was asinister moan in the wind; the slate did not rattle quite like anordinary slate. Tales of her childhood, tales from the superstitiouswestern islands, rushed into her mind. And then, all at once, sheheard another sound. She heard it but for one instant, and then witha pale face she fled downstairs and stood for a space in the halltrembling and wondering. 

She wondered first whether the sound had really come from behind thelocked doors, and whether it actually was some one stealthily moving. She wondered next whether she could bring herself to confide in cookand stand Janet's cheerful scorn. She ended by saying not a word, andwaiting to see what happened when the master came home. 

He returned as usual in time for a cup of tea. It was pretty dark bythen and Mary was upstairs lighting the gas (but she did not venture upto the top floor). She heard Mr. Rattar come into the hall, and then, quite distinctly this time, she heard overhead a dull sound, a kind ofgentle thud. The next moment she heard the master running upstairs, andwhen he was safely past she ran even more swiftly down and burst intothe kitchen. 

"There's something in yon top rooms!" she panted. 

"There's something in your top storey!" snapped cook; and poor Mary saidno more. 

When she brought his tea in to Mr. Rattar, she seemed to read in hisfirst glance at her the same expression that had disturbed her in themorning, and yet the next moment he was speaking in his ordinary grumpy, laconic way. 

"Have you noticed rats in the house?" he asked. 

"Rats, sir!" she exclaimed. "Oh, no, sir, I don't think there are anyrats. "

"I saw one just now, " he said. "If we see it again we must get some ratpoison. "

So it had only been a rat! Mary felt vastly relieved; and yet notaltogether easy. One could not venture to doubt the master, but it wasa queer-like sound for a rat to make. 

Mr. Rattar had brought back a great many papers to-day, and satengrossed in them till dinner. After dinner he fell to work again, andthen about nine o'clock he rang for her and said:

"The gentleman I expect this evening will probably be late in coming. Don't sit up. I'll hear him and let him in myself. We shall be workinglate and I shall be going upstairs about those papers. If you hearanybody moving about, it will only be this gentleman and myself. "

This was rather a long speech for silent Simon, and Mary thought itconsiderate of him to explain any nocturnal sounds beforehand; unusuallyconsiderate, in fact, for he seldom went out of his way to explainthings. And yet those few minutes in his presence made her uncomfortableafresh. She could not keep her eyes away from that red cut on his chin. It made him seem odd-like, she thought. And then as she passed throughthe hall she heard faintly from the upper regions that slate rattlingagain. At least it was either the slate or--she recalled a story of herchildhood, and hurried on to the kitchen. 

She and the cook shared the same bedroom. It was fairly large with twobeds in it, and along with the kitchen and other back premises it wasshut off from the front part of the house by a door at the end of thehall. Cook was asleep within ten minutes. Mary could hear her heavybreathing above the incessant droning and whistling of the wind, and sheenvied her with all her Highland heart. In her own glen people wouldhave understood how she felt, but here she dared not confess lest shewere laughed at. It was such a vague and nameless feeling, a sixth sensewarning her that all was not well; that _something_ was in the air. Thelonger she lay awake the more certain she grew that evil was afoot; andyet what could be its shape? Everything in that quiet and respectablehousehold was going on exactly as usual; everything that any one elsewould have considered material. The little things she had noticed wouldbe considered absurd trifles by the sensible. She knew that as well asthey. 

She thought she had been in bed about an hour, though the time passed soslowly that it might have been less, when she heard, faintly and gently, but quite distinctly, the door from the hall into the back premisesbeing opened. It seemed to be held open for nearly a minute, as thoughsome one were standing there listening. She moved a little and the bedcreaked; and then, as gently as it had been opened, the door was closedagain. 

Had the intruder come through or gone away? And could it only bethe master, doing this curious thing, or was it some one--orsomething--else? Dreadful minutes passed, but there was not a sound ofany one moving in the back passage, or the kitchen, and then in thedistance she could hear the grating noise of the front door being openedand the rush of wind that accompanied it. It was closed sharply in amoment and she could catch the sound of steps in the hall and themaster's voice making some remark. Another voice replied, gruff andmuffled and indistinct, and then again the master spoke. Evidently thelate caller had arrived, and a moment later she heard the library doorshut, and it was plain that he and Mr. Rattar were closeted there. 

They seemed to remain in the library about a quarter of an hour beforethe door opened again, and in a moment the stairs were creaking faintly. Evidently one or both were going up for the old papers. 

All this was exactly what she had been led to expect, and ought tohave reassured her, yet, for no reason at all, the conviction remainedas intense and disturbing as ever, that something unspeakable washappening in this respectable house. The minutes dragged by till quitehalf an hour must have passed, and then she heard the steps descending. They came down very slowly this time, and very heavily. The obviousexplanation was that they were bringing down one of those boxes filledwith dusty papers which she had often seen in the closed rooms; yetthough Mary knew perfectly that this was the common sense of the matter, a feeling of horror increased till she could scarcely refrain fromcrying out. If cook had not such a quick temper and such a healthycontempt for this kind of fancy, she would have rushed across to herbed; but as it was, she simply lay and trembled. 

The steps sounded still heavy but more muffled on the hall carpet, though whether they were the steps of one man or two she could not feelsure. And then she heard the front door open again and then close; sothat it seemed plain that the visitor had taken the box with him andgone away. And with this departure came a sense of relief, as devoid ofrational foundation as the sense of horror before. She felt at last thatif she could only hear the master going upstairs to bed, she might go tosleep. 

But though she listened hard as she lay there in the oppressive dark, she heard not another sound so long as she kept awake, and that was forsome time, she thought. She did get off at last and had been asleep sheknew not how long when she awoke drowsily with a confused impressionthat the front door had been shut again. How late it was she could butguess--about three or four in the morning her instinct told her. Butthen came sleep again and in the morning the last part of herrecollections was a little uncertain. 

At breakfast the master was as silently formidable as ever and he neversaid a word about his visitor. When Mary went to the top floor later thepapers were off the doors and the keys replaced. 

VII

THE DRIVE HOME

Under the grey autumnal sky Miss Cicely Farmond drove out of the townwrapped in Ned Cromarty's overcoat. He assured her he never felt cold, and as she glanced a little shyly up at the strapping figure by herside, she said to herself that he certainly was the toughest looking manof her acquaintance, and she felt a little less contrition for the loan. She was an independent young lady and from no one else would she haveaccepted such a favour, but the laird of Stanesland had such an off-handauthoritative way with him that, somewhat to her own surprise, she hadprotested--and submitted. 

The trap was a high dog cart and the mare a flier. 

"What a splendid horse!" she exclaimed as they spun up the first hill. 

"Isn't she?" said Ned. "And she can go all the way like this, too. "

Cicely was therefore a little surprised when at the next hill this flierwas brought to a walk. 

"I thought we were going all the way like that!" she laughed. 

Ned glanced down at her. 

"Are you in a hurry?" he enquired. 

"Not particularly, " she admitted. 

"No more am I, " said he, and this time he smiled down at her in a veryfriendly way. 

So far they had talked casually on any indifferent subject that came tohand, but now his manner grew a little more intimate. 

"Are you going to stay on with the Cromartys long?" he asked. 

"I am wondering myself, " she confessed. 

"I hope you will, " he said bluntly. 

"It is very kind of you to say so, " she said smiling at him a littleshyly. 

"I mean it. The fact is, Miss Farmond, you are a bit of a treat. "

The quaintness of the phrase was irresistible and she laughed outright. 

"Am I?"

"It's a fact, " said he, "you see I live an odd lonely kind of life here, and for most of my career I've lived an odd lonely kind of life too, sofar as girls were concerned. It may sound rum to you to hear a backwoodhunks of my time of life confessing to finding a girl of your age a bitof a treat, but it's a fact. "

"Yes, " she said. "I should have thought I must seem rather young andfoolish. "

"Lord, I don't mean that!" he exclaimed. "I mean that _I_ must seem apretty uninteresting bit of elderly shoe-leather. "

"Uninteresting? Oh no!" she cried in protest, and then checked herselfand her colour rose a little. 

He smiled humorously. 

"I can't see you out of this glass eye unless I turn round, so whetheryou're pulling my leg or not I don't know, but I was just saying to oldSimon that the only kind of lady likely to take an interest in me was afemale collector of antique curiosities, and you don't seem that sort, Miss Farmond. "

She said nothing for a moment, and then asked:

"Were you discussing ladies then with Mr. Rattar?"

He also paused for a moment before replying. 

"Incidentally in the course of a gossip, as the old chap hadn't got mybusiness ready for me. By the way, did you get much change out of him?"

She shook her head a little mournfully. 

"Nothing at all. He just asked questions instead of answering them. "

"So he did with me! Confound the man. I fancy he has made too much moneyand is beginning to take it easy. That's one advantage of not being toorich, Miss Farmond; it keeps you from waxing fat. "

"I'm not likely to wax fat then!" she laughed, and yet it was not quitea cheerful laugh. 

He turned quickly and looked at her sympathetically. 

"That your trouble?" he enquired in his outspoken way. 

Cicely was not by way of giving her confidences easily, but thisstraight-forward, friendly attack penetrated her reserve. 

"It makes one so dependent, " she said, her voice even lower than usual. 

"That must be the devil, " he admitted. 

"It is!" said she. 

He whipped up the mare and ruminated in silence. Then he remarked:

"I'm just wondering. "

Cicely began to smile. 

"Wondering what?"

"What the devil there can be that isn't utterly uninteresting aboutme--assuming you weren't pulling my leg. "

"Oh, " she said, "no man can be uninteresting who has seen as much anddone as much as you have. "

"The Lord keep you of that opinion!" he said, half humorously, but onlyhalf, it seemed. "It's true I've knocked about and been knocked about, but I'd have thought you'd have judged more by results. "

She laughed a little low laugh. 

"Do you think yourself the results are very bad?"

"Judging by the mirror, beastly! Judging by other standards--well, onecan't see one's self in one's full naked horror, thank Heaven for ittoo! But I'm not well read, and I'm not--but what's the good in tellingyou? You're clever enough to see for yourself. "

For a man who had no intention of paying compliments, Ned Cromarty hada singular gift for administering the pleasantest--because it was soevidently the most genuine--form of flattery. In fact, had he but knownit, he was a universal favourite with women, whenever he happened tomeet them; only he had not the least suspicion of the fact--which madehim all the more favoured. 

"I don't know very many men, " said Cicely, with her serious expressionand a conscientious air, "and so perhaps I am not a good judge, butcertainly you seem to me quite unlike all the others. "

"I told you, " he laughed, "that the female would have to be a bit of acollector. "

"Oh, " she cried, quite serious still, "I don't mean that in the least. Idon't like freaks a bit myself. I only mean--well, people do differ incharacter and experience, don't they?"

"I guess you're pretty wise, " said he simply. "And I'm sized up rightenough. However, the trouble at present is this blamed mare goes toofast!"

On their left, the chimneys and roof of a large mansion showed throughthe surrounding trees. In this wind-swept seaboard country, its acres ofplantation were a conspicuous landmark and marked it as the seat of someoutstanding local magnate. These trees were carried down to the road ina narrow belt enclosing an avenue that ended in a lodge and gates. Atthe same time that the lodge came into view round a bend in the road, aman on a bicycle appeared ahead of them, going in the same direction, and bent over his handle-bars against the wind. 

"Hullo, that's surely Malcolm Cromarty!" said Ned. 

"So it is!" she exclaimed, and there was a note of surprise in hervoice. "I wonder where he has been. "

The cyclist dismounted at the lodge gates a few moments before the trappulled up there too, and the young man turned and greeted them. Orrather he greeted Miss Farmond, for his smile was clearly aimed at heralone. 

"Hullo! Where have you been?" he cried. 

"Where have you?" she retorted as she jumped out and let him help heroff with the driving coat. 

They made a remarkably good-looking young couple standing together thereon the road and their manner to one another was evidently that of twopeople who knew each other well. Sitting on his high driving seat, NedCromarty turned his head well round so as to bring his sound eye to bearand looked at them in silence. When she handed him his coat and thankedhim afresh, he merely laughed, told her, in his outspoken way, that allthe fun had been his, and whipped up his mare. 

"That's more the sort of fellow!" he said to himself gloomily, and for alittle the thought seemed to keep him depressed. And then as he let therecollections of their drive have their own way undisturbed, he began tosmile again, and kept smiling most of the way home. 

The road drew ever nearer to the sea, trees and hedgerows grew evenrarer and more stunted, and then he was driving through a patch ofplanting hardly higher than a shrubbery up to an ancient building on thevery brink of the cliffs. The sea crashed white below and stretched greyand cold to the horizon, the wind whistled round the battlements andsighed through the stunted trees, and Ned (who had been too absorbed toremember his coat) slapped his arms and stamped his feet as he descendedbefore a nail-studded front door with a battered coat of arms above it. 

"Lord, what a place!" he said to himself, half critically, halfaffectionately. 

The old castle of Stanesland was but a small house as castles, or evenmansions, go, almost devoid of architectural ornament and evidentlybuilt in a sterner age simply for security, and but little embellishedby the taste of more degenerate times. As a specimen of a small early15th Century castle it was excellent; as a home it was inconvenienceincarnate. How so many draughts found their way through such thick wallswas a perennial mystery, and how to convey dishes from the kitchen tothe dining room without their getting cold an almost insoluble problem. 

The laird and his sister sat down to lunch and in about ten minutes MissCromarty remarked, "So you drove Cicely Farmond home?"

Her brother nodded. He had mentioned the fact as soon as he came in, andrather wondered why she referred to it again. 

Miss Cromarty smiled her own peculiar shrewd worldly little smile, andsaid:

"You are very silent, Ned. "

Lilian Cromarty was a few years older than her brother; though onewould hardly have guessed it. Her trim figure, bright eyes, vivacityof expression when she chose to be vivacious, and quick movementsmight have belonged to a woman twenty years younger. She had neverbeen pretty, but she was always perfectly dressed and her smile couldbe anything she chose to make it. Until her youngest brother came intothe property, the place had been let and she had lived with her friendsand relations. She had had a good time, she always frankly confessed, but as frankly admitted that it was a relief to settle down at last. 

"I was thinking, " said her brother. 

"About Cicely?" she asked in her frankly audacious way. 

He opened his eyes for a moment and then laughed. 

"You needn't guess again, Lilian, " he admitted. 

"Funny little thing, " she observed. 

"Funny?" he repeated, and his tone brought an almost imperceptiblechange of expression into his sister's eye. 

"Oh, " she said as though throwing the subject aside, "she is nice andquite pretty, but very young, and not very sophisticated; is she?However, I should think she would be a great success as a man's girl. That low voice and those eyes of hers are very effective. Pass me thesalt, Ned. "

Ned looked at her in silence, and then over her shoulder out through thesquare window set in the vast thickness of the wall, to the grey horizonline. 

"I guess you've recommended me to marry once or twice, Lilian, " heobserved. 

"Don't 'guess' please!" she laughed, "or I'll stick my bowie knife orgun or something into you! Yes, I've always advised you to marry--if youfound the right kind of wife. "

She took some credit to herself for this disinterested advice, since, ifhe took it, the consequences would be decidedly disconcerting toherself; but she had never pointed out any specific lady yet, or madeany conspicuous effort to find one for him. 

"Well----" he began, and then broke off. 

"You're not thinking of Cicely, are you?" she asked, still in the samebright light way, but with a quick searching look at him. 

"It seems a bit absurd. I don't imagine for an instant she'd look atme. "

"Wouldn't look----!" she began derisively, and then pulled herself upvery sharply, and altered her tactics on the instant. "She might thinkyou a little too old for her, " she said in a tone of entire agreementwith him. 

"And also that I've got one too few eyes, and in fact several othercriticisms. "

His sister shrugged her shoulders. 

"A girl of that age might think those things, " she admitted, "but itseems to me that the criticism ought to be on the other side. Who isshe?"

Ned looked at her and she broke into a laugh. 

"Well, " she said, "I suppose we both have a pretty good idea. She'ssomebody's something--Alfred Cromarty's, I believe; though of courseher mother may have fibbed, for she doesn't look much like theCromartys. Anyhow that pretty well puts her out of the question. "

"Why?"

"If you were a mere nobody, it mightn't make so much difference, butyour wife must have some sort of a family behind her. One needn't bea snob to think that one mother and a guess at the father is hardlyenough!"

"After all, that's up to me. I wouldn't be wanting to marry hergreat-mothers, even if she had any. "

She shrugged her shoulders again. 

"My dear Ned, I'm no prude, but there's always some devilment in theblood in these cases. "

"Rot!" said he. 

"Well, rot if you like, but I know more than one instance. "

He said nothing for a moment and as he sat in silence, a look of keenanxiety came into her eye. She hid it instantly and compressed herlips, and then abruptly her brother said:

"I wonder whether she's at all taken up with Malcolm Cromarty!"

She ceased to meet his eye, and her own became expressionless. 

"They have spent some months in the same house. At their age theconsequences seem pretty inevitable. "

She had contrived to suggest a little more than she said, and he startedin his chair. 

"What do you know?" he demanded. 

"Oh, of course, there would be a dreadful row if anything was actuallyknown abroad. Sir Reginald has probably other ideas for his heir. "

"Then there _is_ something between them?"

She nodded, and though she still did not meet his eye, he accepted thenod with a grim look that passed in a moment into a melancholy laugh. 

"Well, " he said, rising, "it was a pretty absurd idea anyhow. I'll goand have a look at myself in the glass and try to see the funny side ofit!"

His sister sat very still after he had left the room. 

VIII

SIR REGINALD

Cicely Farmond and Malcolm Cromarty walked up the avenue together, hepushing his bicycle, she walking by his side with a more than usuallyserious expression. 

"Then you won't tell me where you've been?" said he. 

"You won't tell me where you've been!"

He was silent for a moment and then said confidentially:

"We might as well say we've been somewhere together. I mean, if any oneasks. "

"Thank you, I don't need to fib, " said she. 

"I don't mean I need to. Only----" he seemed to find it difficult toexplain. 

"I shall merely say I have been for a walk, and you need only say youhave been for a ride--if you don't want to say where you have reallybeen. "

"And if you don't want to mention that you were driving with NedCromarty, " he retorted. 

"He only very kindly offered me a lift!"

She looked quickly at him as she spoke and as quickly away again. Theglint in her eye seemed to displease him. 

"You needn't always be so sharp with me, Cicely, " he complained. 

"You shouldn't say stupid things. "

Both were silent for a space and then in a low mournful voice he said:

"I wish I knew how to win your sympathy, Cicely. You don't absolutelyhate me, do you?"

"Of course I don't hate you. But the way to get a girl's sympathy is notalways to keep asking for it. "

He looked displeased again. 

"I don't believe you know what I mean!"

"I don't believe you do either. "

He grew tender. 

"_Your_ sympathy, Cicely, would make all the difference to my life!"

"Now, Malcolm----" she began in a warning voice. 

"Oh, I am not asking you to love me again, " he assured her quickly. "Itis only sympathy I demand!"

"But you mix them up so easily. It isn't safe to give you anything. "

"I won't again!" he assured her. 

"Well, " she said, though not very sympathetically, "what do you want tobe sympathised with about now?"

"When you offer me sympathy in that tone, I can't give you myconfidence!" he said unhappily. 

"Really, Malcolm, how can I possibly tell what your confidence is goingto be beforehand? Perhaps it won't deserve sympathy. "

"If you knew the state of my affairs!" he said darkly. 

"A few days ago you told me they were very promising, " she said with alittle smile. 

"So they would be--so they are--if--if only you would care for me, Cicely!"

"You tell me they are promising when you want me to marry you, anddesperate when you want me to sympathise with you, " she said a littlecruelly. "Which am I to believe?"

"Hush! Here's Sir Reginald, " he said. 

The gentleman who came through a door in the walled garden beside thehouse was a fresh-coloured, white-haired man of sixty; slender and notabove middle height, but very erect, and with the carriage of a person alittle conscious of being of some importance. Sir Reginald Cromarty was, in fact, extremely conscious of his position in life, and the rathersuperior and condescending air he was wont to assume in general societymade it a little difficult for a stranger to believe that he couldactually be the most popular person in the county; especially as it wasnot hard to discover that his temper could easily become peppery uponprovocation. If, however, the stranger chanced to provide the worthybaronet with even the smallest opening of exhibiting his extraordinarykindness of heart--were it only by getting wet in a shower or mislayinga walking stick, he would quickly comprehend. And the baronet's sympathynever waited to be summoned; it seemed to hover constantly over all menand women he met, spying for its chance. 

He himself was totally unconscious of this attribute and imagined therespect in which he was held to be due to his lineage, rank, andsuperior breeding and understanding. Indeed, few people in this worldcan have cut a more dissimilar figure as seen from his own and fromother men's eyes; though as both parties were equally pleased with SirReginald Cromarty, it mattered little. 

At the sight of Cicely his smile revealed the warmth of his feelings inthat direction. 

"Ah, my dear girl, " said he, "we've been looking for you. Where have youbeen?"

"I've been having a walk. "

She smiled at him as she answered, and on his side it was easy to seethat the good gentleman was enraptured, and that Miss Farmond was notlikely to be severely cross-examined as to her movements. TowardsMalcolm, on the other hand, though his greeting was kindly enough, hiseye was critical. The young author's tie seemed to be regarded withparticular displeasure. 

"My God, Margaret, imagine being found dead in such a thing!" he hadexclaimed to his wife, after his first sight of it; and time had donenothing to diminish his distaste for this indication of a foreign way oflife. 

Lady Cromarty came out of the garden a moment later; a dark thin-facedlady with a gracious manner when she spoke, but with lips that wereusually kept very tight shut and an eye that could easily be hard. 

"Nearly time for lunch, " she said. "You two had better hurry up!"

The young people hurried on to the house and the baronet and his ladywalked slowly behind. 

"So they have been away all morning together, Reginald, " she remarked. 

"Oh, I don't think so, " said he. "He had his bicycle and she has beenwalking. "

"You are really too unsuspicious, Reggie!"

"A woman, my dear, is perhaps a little too much the reverse where ayoung couple is concerned. I have told you before, and I repeat it nowemphatically, that neither Cicely nor Malcolm is in a position tocontemplate matrimony for an instant. "

"He is your heir--and Cicely is quite aware of it. "

"I assure you, Margaret, " he said with great conviction, "that Cicely isnot a girl with mercenary motives. She is quite charming----"

"Oh, I know your opinion of her, Reggie, " Lady Cromarty broke in atrifle impatiently, "and I am fond of her too, as you know. Still, Idon't believe a girl who can use her eyes so effectively is quite assimple as you think. "

Sir Reginald laughed indulgently. 

"Really, my love, even the best of women are sometimes a trifleuncharitable! But in any case Malcolm has quite enough sense of hisfuture position to realise that his wife must be somebody without theblemish on her birth, which is no fault of dear Cicely's, but--er--makesher ineligible for this particular position. "

"I wish I could think that Malcolm is the kind of young man who wouldconsult anything but his own wishes. I have told you often enough, Reggie, that I don't think it is wise to keep these two young peopleliving here in the same house for months on end. "

"But what can one do?" asked the benevolent baronet. "Neither of themhas any home of their own. Hang it, I'm the head of their family and I'mbound to show them a little hospitality. "

"But Malcolm has rooms in town. He needn't spend months on end atKeldale. "

The baronet was silent for a moment. Then he said:

"To tell the truth, my dear, I'm afraid Malcolm is not turning out quiteso well as I had hoped. He certainly ought to be away doing something. At the same time, hang it, you wouldn't have me turn my own kinsman andheir out of my house, Margaret; would you?"

Lady Cromarty sighed, and then her thin lips tightened. 

"You are hopeless, Reggie. I sometimes feel as though I were here merelyas matron of a home for lost Cromartys! Well, I hope your confidencewon't be abused. I confess I don't feel very comfortable about itmyself. "

"Well, well, " said Sir Reginald. "My own eyes are open too, I assureyou. I shall watch them very carefully at lunch, in the light of whatyou have been saying. "

The baronet was an old Etonian, and as his life had been somewhatuneventful since, he was in the habit of drawing very largely on hisrecollections of that nursery of learning. Lunch had hardly begun beforea question from Cicely set him going, and for the rest of the meal heregaled her with these reminiscences. 

After luncheon he said to his wife:

"Upon my word, I noticed nothing whatever amiss. Cicely is a verysensible as well as a deuced pretty girl. "

"I happened to look at Malcolm occasionally, " said she. 

Sir Reginald thought that she seemed to imply more than she said, butthen women were like that, he had noticed, and if one took all theirimplications into account, life would be a troublesome affair. 

IX

A PHILOSOPHER

During luncheon an exceedingly efficient person had been moving brisklybehind the chairs. His face was so expressionless, his mouth so tightlyclosed, and his air of concentration on the business in hand so intense, that he seemed the perfect type of the silent butler. But as soon aslunch was over, and while Cicely still stood in the hall listening witha dubious eye to Malcolm's suggestion of a game of billiards, Mr. JamesBisset revealed the other side of his personality. He came up to theyoung couple with just sufficient deference, but no more, and in anaccent which experts would have recognised as the hall mark of thewestern part of North Britain, said:

"Excuse me, miss, but I've mended your bicycle and I'll show it you ifye like, and just explain the principle of the thing. "

There was at least as much command as invitation in his tones. Thebilliard invitation was refused, and with a hidden smile Cicely followedhim to the bicycle house. 

Expert knowledge was James Bisset's foible. Of some subjects, such asbuttling, carpentry, and mending bicycles, it was practical; of others, such as shooting, gardening, and motoring, it was more theoretical. ToSir Reginald and my lady he was quite indispensable, for he could repairalmost anything, knew his own more particular business from A to Z, andwas ready at any moment to shoulder any responsibility. Sir Reginald'skeeper, gardener, and chauffeur were apt however to be a trifle lessenthusiastic, Mr. Bisset's passion for expounding the principles oftheir professions sometimes exceeding his tact. 

In person, he was an active, stoutly built man (though far too energeticto be fat), with blunt rounded features, eyes a little protruding, andsandy hair and a reddish complexion which made his age an unguessablesecret. He might have been in the thirties or he might have been in thefifties. 

"With regard to these ladies' bicycles, miss--" he began with alecturer's air. 

But by this time Cicely was also an expert in side-tracking her friend'stheoretical essays. 

"Oh, how clever of you!" she exclaimed rapturously. "It looks as good asever!"

The interruption was too gratifying to offend. 

"Better in some ways, " he said complacently. "The principle of thesethings is----"

"I did miss it this morning, " she hurried on. "In fact I had to havequite a long walk. Luckily Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland gave me a liftcoming home. "

"Oh, indeed, miss? Stanesland gave ye a lift, did he? An interestinggentleman yon. "

This time she made no effort to divert Mr. Bisset's train of thought. 

"You think Mr. Cromarty interesting, then?" said she. 

"They say he's hanged a man with his ain hands, " said Bissetimpressively. 

"What!" she cried. 

"For good and sufficient reason, we'll hope, miss. But whatever the wayof it, it makes a gentleman more interesting in a kin' of way than theusual run. And then looking at the thing on general principles, thetheory of hanging is----"

"Oh, but surely, " she interrupted, "that isn't the only reason why Mr. Cromarty--I mean why you think he is interesting?"

"There's that glass eye, too. That's very interesting, miss. "

She still seemed unsatisfied. 

"His glass eye! Oh--you mean it has a story?"

"Vera possibly. He says himself it was done wi' a whisky bottle, butpossibly that's making the best of it. But what interests me, miss, about yon eye is this----"

He paused dramatically and she enquired in an encouraging voice:

"Yes, Bisset?"

"It's the principle of introducing a foreign substance so near the man'sbrain. What's glass? What's it consist of?"

"I--I don't know, " confessed Cicely weakly. 

"Silica! And what's silica? Practically the same as sand! Well now if yeput a handful of sand into a man's brain--or anyhow next door to it, it's bound to have some effect, bound to have some effect!"

Bisset's voice fell to a very serious note, and as he was famous for therange of his reading and was generally said to know practically by heart"The People's Self-Educator in Science and Art, " Cicely asked a littleapprehensively:

"But what effect can it possibly have?"

"It might take him different ways, " said the philosopher cautiouslythough sombrely. "But it's a good thing, anyway, Miss Farmond, that thelaird of Stanesland is no likely to get married. "

"Isn't he?" she asked, again with that encouraging note. 

Bisset replied with another question, asked in an ominous voice:

"Have ye seen yon castle o' his, miss?"

Cicely nodded. 

"I called there once with Lady Cromarty. "

"A most interesting place, miss, illustrating the principle of thaecastles very instructively. "

Mr. Bisset had evidently been studying architecture as well as science, and no doubt would have given Miss Farmond some valuable information onthe subject. But she seemed to lack enthusiasm for it to-day. 

"But will the castle prevent him marrying?" she enquired with a smile. 

"The lady in it will, " said the philosopher with a sudden descent intoworldly shrewdness. 

"Miss Cromarty! Why?"

"She's mair comfortable there than setting off on her travels again. That's a fac', miss. "

"But--but supposing he----" Cicely began and then paused. 

"Oh, the laird's no the marrying sort anyhow. He says to me himself oneday when I'd taken the liberty of suggesting that a lady would suit thecastle fine--we was shooting and I was carrying his cartridges, which Ido for amusement, miss, whiles--'Bisset, ' says he, 'the lady will haveto be a damned keen shot to think me worth a cartridge. I'm too toughfor the table, ' says he, 'and not ornamental enough to stuff. They'velet me off so far, and why the he--' begging your pardon, miss, butStanesland uses strong expressions sometimes. 'Why the something, ' sayshe, 'should they want to put me in the bag now? I'm happier free--andso's the lady. ' But he's a grand shot and a vera friendly gentleman, vera friendly indeed. It's a pity, though, he's that ugly. "

"Ugly!" she exclaimed. "Oh, I don't think him ugly at all. He's verystriking looking. I think he is rather handsome. "

Bisset looked at her with a benevolently reproving eye. 

"Weel, miss, it's all a matter of taste, but to my mind Stanesland is afine gentleman, but the vera opposite extreme from a Venus. " He brokeoff and glanced towards the house. "Oh, help us! There's one of thaehelpless women crying on me. How this house would get on wantingme----!"

He left Miss Farmond to paint the gloomy picture for herself. 

X

THE LETTER

It was a few days later that Cicely looked up from the local paper shewas reading and asked:

"Who was George Rattar?"

Sir Reginald laid down his book and looked at her in some surprise. 

"George Rattar? What do you know about him?"

"I see the announcement of his death. 'Son of the late John SimonRattar' he's called. "

"That's Silent Simon's brother!" exclaimed Sir Reginald. "Where did hedie?"

"In New York, it says. "

Sir Reginald turned to his wife. 

"We can hardly send our sympathies to Simon on this bereavement!"

"No, " she said significantly. "I suppose congratulations would be moreappropriate. "

The baronet took the paper from Cicely and studied it himself. 

"Died about a fortnight ago, I see, " he observed. "I wonder whetherSimon put this announcement in himself, or whether brother Georgearranged it in his will? It would be quite like the fellow to have thisposthumous wipe at Simon. George had a certain sense of humour--whichSimon lacks. And there was certainly no love lost between them!"

"Why should it annoy Mr. Rattar?" asked Cicely. 

"Because brother George was not a member of his family he would care tobe reminded of. Though on the other hand, Simon is as hard as whinstoneand has as much sentiment as this teapot, and he may have put the noticein himself simply to show the world he was rid of the fellow. "

"What was George Rattar then?" enquired Cicely. 

"He was once Simon Rattar's partner, wasn't he, Reginald?" said LadyCromarty. "And then he swindled him, didn't he?"

"Swindled several other people as well, " said Sir Reginald, "myselfincluded. However, the thing was hushed up, and brother Georgedisappeared. Then he took to forgery on his own account and among otherpeople's signatures he imitated with remarkable success was Simon's. This let old Simon in for it again and there was no hushing it up asecond time. Simon gave evidence against him without mercy, and sincethen George has been his Majesty's guest for a number of years. So ifyou meet Mr. Simon Rattar, Cicely, you'd better not tell him how sorryyou are to hear of poor George's decease!"

"I wish I could remember him more distinctly, " said Lady Cromarty. "I'mafraid I always mix him up with our friend Mr. Simon. "

"It's little wonder, " her husband replied. "They were twins. George wasthe one with a moustache; one knew them apart by that. Extraordinarything, it has always seemed to me, that their natures should have beenso different. "

"Perhaps, " suggested Cicely compassionately, with her serious air, "itwas only that George was tempted. "

Sir Reginald laughed heartily. 

"You little cynic!" he cried. "You mean to insinuate that if you temptedSimon, he'd be as bad a hat as his brother?"

"Oh, no!" cried Cicely. "I meant----"

"Tempt him and see!" chuckled the baronet. "And we'll have a little beton the result!" He was glancing at the paper as he laughed, and now hesuddenly stopped laughing and exclaimed, "Hullo! Here's a much moreserious loss for our friend. Would you like to earn £1, Cicely?"

"Very much, " said she. 

"Well then if you search the road very carefully between Mr. SimonRattar's residence and his office you may find his signet ring andobtain the advertised, and I may say princely, reward of one pound. "

"Only a pound!" exclaimed Lady Cromarty, "for that handsome old ring ofhis?"

"If he had offered a penny more, I should have taken my business out ofhis hands!" laughed Sir Reginald. "It would have meant that Silent Simonwasn't himself any longer. A pound is exactly his figure; a respectablesum, but not extravagant. "

"What day did he lose it?" asked Cicely. 

"The advertisement doesn't say. "

"He wasn't wearing it----" Cicely pulled herself up sharply. 

"When?" asked Lady Cromarty. 

"Where can I have seen him last?" wondered Cicely with an innocent air. 

"Not for two or three weeks certainly, " said Lady Cromarty decisively. "And he can't have lost it then if this advertisement is only just putin. "

"No, of course not, " Cicely agreed. 

"Well, " said Sir Reginald, "he'll miss his ring more than his brother!And remember, Cicely, you get a pound for finding the ring, and you wina pair of gloves if you can tempt Simon to stray from the paths ofhonesty and virtue! By Jingo, I'll give you the gloves if you can evenmake him tell a good sporting lie!"

When the good baronet was in this humour no man could excel him ingeniality, and, to do him justice, a kindly temper and hearty spiritswere the rule with him six days out of seven. On the other hand, he waseasily ruffled and his tempers were hot while they lasted. Upon the verynext morning there arose on the horizon a little cloud, a cloud thatseemed at the moment the merest fleck of vapour, which upset him, hisfamily thought, quite unduly. 

It took the form of a business letter from Mr. Simon Rattar, a letteron the surface perfectly innocuous and formally polite. Yet Sir Reginaldseemed considerably disturbed. 

"Damn the man!" he exclaimed as he cast it on the breakfast table. 

"Reggie!" expostulated his wife gently. "What's the matter?"

"Matter?" snapped her husband. "Simon Rattar has the impudence to tellme he is letting the farm of Castleknowe to that fellow Shearer afterall!"

"But why not? You meant to some time ago, I know. "

"Some time ago, certainly. But I had a long talk with Simon ten days agoand told him what I'd heard about Shearer and said I wouldn't have thefellow on my property at any price. I don't believe the man is solvent, in the first place; and in the second place he's a socialistic, quarrelsome, mischievous fellow!"

"And what did Mr. Rattar think?"

"He tried to make some allowances for the man, but in the end when hesaw I had made up my mind, he professed to agree with me and said hewould look out for another tenant. Now he tells me that the matter issettled as per my instructions of the 8th. That's weeks ago, and not aword does he say about our conversation cancelling the wholeinstructions!"

"Then Shearer gets the farm?"

"No, he doesn't! I'm dashed if he does! I shall send Mr. Simon a letterthat will make him sit up! He's got to alter the arrangement somehow. "

He turned to Malcolm and added:

"When your time comes, Malcolm, beware of having a factor who has runthe place so long that he thinks it's his own property! By Gad, I'mgoing to tell him a bit of my mind!"

During the rest of breakfast he glanced at the letter once or twice, andeach time his brows contracted, but he said nothing more in presence ofCicely and Malcolm. After he had left the dining room, however, LadyCromarty followed him and said:

"Don't be too hasty with Mr. Rattar, Reggie! After all, the talk mayhave slipped his memory. "

"Slipped his memory? If you had heard it, Margaret, you'd know better. Iwas a bit cross with him for a minute or two then, which I hardly everam, and that alone would make him remember it, one would think. Wetalked for over an hour on the business and the upshot was clear andfinal. No, no, he has got a bit above himself and wants a touch of thecurb. "

"What are you going to do?" she asked. 

"I'm going to send in a note by car and tell him to come out and see meabout the business at once. "

"Let me see the letter before you send it, Reggie. "

He seemed to growl assent, but when she next saw him the letter hadgone; and from the baronet's somewhat crusty explanation, she suspectedthat it was a little sharper than he knew she would have approved. 

When the car returned his annoyance was increased again for a space. Mr. Rattar had sent a brief reply that he was too busy to come out thatafternoon, but he would call on Sir Reginald in the morning. For a timethis answer kept Sir Reginald in a state of renewed irritation, and thenhis natural good humour began to prevail, till by dinner time he wasquite calm again, and after dinner in as genial humour as he had been inthe day before. 

He played a game of pyramids with Cicely and Malcolm in the billiardroom, and then he and Cicely joined Lady Cromarty in the drawing roomwhile the young author went up to his room to work, he declared. He hada large bedroom furnished half as a sitting room where he retired eachnight to compose his masterpieces as soon as it became impossible toenjoy Miss Farmond's company without having to share it in the drawingroom with his host and hostess. At least, that was the explanation ofhis procedure given by Lady Cromarty, whose eye was never more criticalthan when it studied her husband's kinsman and heir. 

Lady Cromarty's eye was not uncritical also of Cicely at times, butto-night she was so relieved to see how Sir Reginald's temper improvedunder her smiles and half shy glances, that she let her stay up laterthan usual. Then when she and the girl went up to bed, she asked herhusband if he would be late. 

"The magazines came this morning, " said he. "I'd better sleep in mydressing room. "

The baronet was apt to sit up late when he had anything to read thatheld his fancy, and the procedure of sleeping in his dressing room wascommonly followed then. 

He bade them good-night and went off towards the library, and a fewminutes later, as they were going upstairs, they heard the library doorshut. 

When they came to Lady Cromarty's room, Cicely said good-night to herhostess and turned down the passage that led to her own bedroom. A dooropened quietly as she passed and a voice whispered:

"Cicely!"

She stopped and regarded the young author with a reproving eye. 

"Is anything the matter?" she asked. 

"I just wanted to speak to you!" he pleaded. 

"Now, Malcolm, " she said severely, "you know quite well that LadyCromarty trusts us _not_ to do this sort of thing!"

"She's in her room, isn't she?"

"What does that matter?"

"And where's Sir Reginald?"

"Still in the library. "

"Sitting up late?"

"Yes, but that doesn't matter either. Good night!"

"Wait just one minute, Cicely! Come into my room--I won't shut thedoor!"

"Certainly not!" she said emphatically. 

"Well then, don't speak so loudly! I must confide in you, Cicely; I'mgetting desperate. My position is really serious. Something's got tohappen! If you would only give me your sympathy----"

"I thought you were writing, " she interrupted. 

"I've been trying to, but----"

"Well, write all this down and read it to me to-morrow, " she smiled. "Good night!"

"The blame be on your head!" began the author dramatically, but the slimfigure was already moving away, throwing him a parting smile that seemedto wound his sensitive soul afresh. 

XI

NEWS

Even in that scattered countryside of long distances by windy roads, with scarcely ever a village as a focus for gossip, news flew fast. Thenext morning Ned Cromarty had set out with his gun towards a certainsnipe marsh, but while he was still on the high road he met a man on abicycle. The man had heard strange news and stopped to pass it on, andthe next moment Ned was hurrying as fast as his long legs could take himback to the castle. 

He saw his sister only for a moment. 

"Lilian!" he cried, and the sound of his voice made her start and stareat him. "There's a story that Sir Reginald was murdered last night. "

"Murdered!" she repeated in a low incredulous voice. "Ridiculous, Ned!Who told you?"

"I only know the man by sight, but he seemed to believe it rightenough. "

"But how--who did it?"

Her brother shook his head. 

"Don't know. He couldn't tell me. My God, I hope it's not true! I'm offto see. "

A few minutes later he was driving his mare headlong for his kinsman'shouse. It had begun to rain by this time, and the mournful wreaths ofvapour that swept over the bare, late autumnal country and drove in finedrops against his face sent his spirits down ever lower as the maresplashed her way along the empty miles of road. The melancholy thrummingof the telegraph wires droned by his side all the while, and as thisdirge waxed for the moment as they passed each post, his eye wouldglance grimly at those gaunt poles. Very suitable and handy for acertain purpose, they struck him--if by any possibility this tale weretrue. 

He knew the worst when he saw Bisset at the door. 

"Thank God, you've come, sir, " said the butler devoutly. "The masterwould have expected it of you. "

"How did it happen? What does it mean? Do you mean to say it's actually_true_?"

Bisset shook his head sombrely. 

"Ower true, " said he. "But as to how it happened, come in to thelibrary, sir. It was in his ain library he was killed! The Fiscal andSuperintendent is there now and we've been going into the circumstantialevidence. Most extraordinary mystery, sir--most extraordinary!"

In the library they found Simon Rattar and Superintendent Sutherland. The Superintendent was a big burly red-moustached man; his face acertificate of honesty, but hardly of the intellectual type. Ned lookedround him apprehensively for something else, but Bisset said:

"We've taken him upstairs, sir. "

For a moment as he looked round that spacious comfortable room with itslong bookcases and easy chairs, and on the tables and mantel-piece ahundred little mementoes of its late owner, the laird of Stanesland wasunable to speak a word, and the others respected his silence. Then hepulled himself together sharply and asked:

"How did it happen? Tell me all about it!"

Perhaps there might have been for a moment in Simon's eye a hint thatthis demand was irregular, but the superintendent evidently took noexception to the intrusion. Besides being a considerable local magnateand a kinsman of the dead baronet, Stanesland had a forcible personalitythat stood no gainsaying. 

"Well, sir, " said the superintendent, "Mr. Rattar could perhaps explainbest----"

"Explain yourself, Sutherland, " said Simon briefly. 

The superintendent pointed to a spot on the carpet a few paces from thedoor. 

"We found Sir Reginald lying there, " he said. "His skull had been fairlycracked, just over the right eye, sir. The blow would have been enoughto kill him I'd think myself, but there were marks in his neck too, seeming to show that the murderer had strangled him afterwards to makesure. However, we'll be having the medical evidence soon. But there's nodoubt that was the way of it, and Mr. Rattar agrees with me. "

The lawyer merely nodded. 

"What was it done with?"

The superintendent pursed his lips and shook his head. 

"That's one of the mysterious things in the case, sir. There's no signof any weapon in the room. The fire irons are far too light. But it wasan unco' heavy blow. There was little bleeding, but the skull was faircracked. "

"Was anything stolen?"

"That's another mystery, sir. Nothing was stolen anywhere in the houseand there was no papers in a mess like, or anything. "

"When was he found?" asked Ned. 

"Seven-fifty this morning, sir, " said Bisset. "The housemaid finding thedoor lockit came to me. I knew the dining-room key fitted this door too, so I opened it--and there he lay. "

"All night, without any one knowing he hadn't gone to bed?"

"That's the unfortunate thing, sir, " said the superintendent. "It seemsthat Sir Reginald had arranged to sleep in his dressing room as he wasgoing to be sitting up late reading. "

"Murderer must have known that, " put in Simon. 

"Almost looks like it, " agreed the superintendent. 

"And nobody in the house heard or saw anything?"

"Nobody, sir, " said the superintendent. 

"That's their statement, " added the lawyer in his driest voice. 

"Was anybody sitting up late?"

"Nobody admits it, " said the lawyer, again very drily. 

"Thirteen, " said Bisset softly. 

They turned towards him, but it seemed that he was talking to himself. He was, in fact, quietly taking measurements with a tape. 

"Go on, " said Cromarty briefly. 

"Well, sir, " said the superintendent. "The body was found near the dooras I was pointing out, but it's a funny thing that a small table hadbeen upset apparently, and Bisset tells us that that table stood nearthe window. "

"Humph, " grunted Simon sceptically. 

"I'm quite sure of it, Mr. Rattar, " said Bisset confidently, lookinground from his work of measurement. 

"No positive proof it was upset, " said the lawyer. 

"Did you find it upset?" asked Ned. 

The lawyer shook his head emphatically and significantly, and thesuperintendent agreed. 

"No, it was standing just where it is now near the wall. "

"Then why do you think it was upset?"

"I picked up yon bits of sealing wax and yon piece of India rubber, "said Bisset, looking round again. "I know they were on the wee tableyesterday and I found them under the curtain in the morning and thetable moved over to the wall. It follows that the table has been cowpitand then set up again in another place, and the other things on it putback. Is that not a fair deduction, sir?"

Ned nodded thoughtfully. 

"Seems to me so, " he said. 

"It seems likely enough, " the superintendent also agreed. "And if that'sthe case there would seem to have been some kind of ongoings near thewindow. "

The Procurator Fiscal still seemed unconvinced. 

"Nothing to go on. No proper evidence. It leads nowhere definitely, " hesaid. 

"Well now, " continued the superintendent, "the question is--how did themurderer get into the room? The door was found locked and the key hadbeen taken away, so whether he had locked it from the inside or theoutside we can't tell. There's small chance of finding the key, I doubt, for a key's a thing easy hidden away. "

"So he might have come in by the door and then left by the door andlocked it after him, " said Ned. "Or he might have come in by the window, locked the door and gone out by the window. Or he might have come in bythe window and gone out by the door, locking it after him. Those are allthe chances, aren't they?"

"Indeed, that seems to be them all, " said the superintendent with a noteof admiration for this clear exposition that seemed to indicate he wasbetter himself at details than deductions. 

"And now what about the window? Was that open or shut or what?"

"Shut but not snibbed, sir. "

Ned turned to Bisset. 

"Did Sir Reginald ever forget to snib the windows, supposing onehappened to be open?"

"Practically never, sir. "

"Last thing before he left the room, I suppose?" said the lawyer. 

The butler hesitated. 

"I suppose so, sir, " he admitted, "but of course I was never here tosee. "

"Exactly!" said Simon. "Therefore one can draw no conclusions as towhether the window had been standing all the time just as it is now, orwhether it had been opened and shut again from the outside; seeing thatSir Reginald was presumably killed before his usual time for looking tothe windows. "

"Wait a bit!" said Ned. "I was assuming a window had been open. But werethe windows fastened before Sir Reginald came in to sit here lastthing?"

"Certainly they were that, " said the butler emphatically. 

"It was a mild night, he might have opened one himself, " replied theProcurator Fiscal. "Or supposing the man had come in and left again bythe door, what's more likely than that he unsnibbed the window to makepeople think he had come that way?"

"He would surely have left it wide open, " objected Ned. 

"Might have thought that too obvious, " replied the lawyer, "or mighthave been afraid of the noise. Unsnibbing would be quite enough tosuggest entry that way. "

Ned turned his keen eye hard on him. 

"What's your own theory then?"

"I've none, " grunted Simon. "No definite evidence one way or the other. Mere guesses are no use. "

Ned walked to the window and looked at it carefully. Then he threw it upand looked out into the garden. 

"Of course you've looked for footsteps underneath?" he asked. 

"Naturally, " said Simon. "But it's a hard gravel path and grass beyond. One could fancy one saw traces, but no definite evidence. "

The window was one of three together, with stone mullions between. Theywere long windows reaching down nearly to the level of the floor, sothat entrance that way was extremely easy if one of them were open. Cromarty got out and stood on the sill examining the middle sash. 

Simon regarded him with a curious caustic look for a moment in his eye. 

"Looking for finger marks?" he enquired. 

"Yes, " said Ned. "Did you look for them?"

For a single instant the Procurator Fiscal seemed a little taken aback. Then he grunted with a half laugh:

"Don't believe much in them. "

"Experienced criminals, that's been convicted before, frequently wearsgloves for to prevent their finger prints being spotted, " said thelearned Bisset. 

Mr. Rattar shot him a quick ambiguous glance, and then his eyes assumedtheir ordinary cold look and he said:

"No evidence anybody ever opened that window from the outside. If theyhad, Sir Reginald would have heard them. "

"Well, " said Ned, getting back into the room, "there are no finger marksanyhow. "

"The body being found near the door certainly seems to be in favour ofMr. Rattar's opinion, " observed the superintendent. 

"I thought Mr. Rattar had formed no opinion yet, " said Cromarty. 

"No more I have, " grunted the lawyer. 

The superintendent looked a trifle perplexed. 

"Before Mr. Cromarty had come in, sir, I understood you for to sayeverything pointed to the man having come in by the door and hit SirReginald on the head as he came to see who it was when he heard himoutside. "

"I merely suggested that, " said Simon Rattar sharply. "It fits thefacts, but there's no definite evidence yet. "

Ned Cromarty had turned and was frowning out of the window. Now hewheeled quickly and exclaimed:

"If the murderer came in through the window while Sir Reginald was inthe room, either the window was standing open or Sir Reginald opened itfor him! Did Sir Reginald ever sit with his window open late at night atthis time of year?"

"Never once, sir, " said Bisset confidently. "He likit fresh air outsidefine but never kept his windies open much unless the weather was verapropitious. "

"Then, " said Ned, "why should Sir Reginald have opened the window of hisown accord to a stranger at the dead of night?"

"Exactly!" said Mr. Rattar. "Thing seems absurd. He'd never do it. "

"That's my own opinion likewise, sir, " put in Bisset. 

"It's only common sense, " added the superintendent. 

"Then how came the window to be unfastened?" demanded Ned. 

"I've suggested a reason, " said Simon. 

"As a blind? Sounds to me damned thin. "

Simon Rattar turned away from him with an air that suggested that hethought it time to indicate distinctly that he was in charge of the caseand not the laird of Stanesland. 

"That's all we can do just now, Sutherland, " he said. "No use disturbingthe household any longer at present. "

Cromarty stepped up to him suddenly and asked:

"Tell me honestly! Do you suspect anybody?"

Simon shook his head decidedly. 

"No sufficient evidence yet. Good morning, Mr. Cromarty. "

Ned was following him to the door, his lips compressed and his eyes onthe floor, when Bisset touched his arm and beckoned him back. 

"Excuse me, sir, " said he, "but could you not manage just to stop on fora wee bit yet?"

Ned hesitated. 

"They won't be wanting visitors, Bisset. "

"They needn't know if you don't want them to, sir. Lady Cromarty is shutup in her room, and the others are keeping out of the way. If youwouldn't mind my giving you a little cold luncheon in my sitting room, sir, I'd like to have your help. I'm making a few sma' bits ofinvestigation on my own. You're one of the family, sir, and I knowyou'll be wanting to find out who killed the master. "

Ned's eye flashed suddenly. 

"By God, I'll never rest in this world or the next till I do! All right, I'll wait for a bit. "

XII

CICELY

Ned Cromarty waited in the hall while Bisset went to the door with theProcurator Fiscal and Superintendent of Police. As he stood there in thedarkened silence of the house, there came to his ears for an instant thefaint sound of a voice, and it seemed to be a woman's. With that thecurrent of his thoughts seemed to change, and when Bisset returned heasked, though with marked hesitation:

"Do you think, Bisset, I could do anything for any of them, Mr. MalcolmCromarty, or--er--Miss Farmond?"

Bisset considered the point judicially. It was clear he felt that themanagement of the household was in his hands now. 

"I am sure Miss Farmond would be pleased, sir--poor young lady!"

"Do you really think so?" said Ned, and his manner brightened visibly. "Well, if she won't mind----"

"I think if you come this way, sir, you will find her with Sir Malcolm. "

"_Sir_ Malcolm!" exclaimed Ned. "My God, so he is!"

To himself he added:

"And she will soon be Lady Cromarty!"

But the thought did not seem to exhilarate him. 

He was led towards the billiard room, an addition to the house which layrather apart. The door was half open and through it he could see thatthe blinds had been drawn down, and he could hear a murmur of voices. 

"They are in there, sir, " said Bisset, and he left him. 

As Ned Cromarty entered he caught the words, spoken by the new baronet:

"My dear Cicely, I depend on your sympathy----"

He broke off as he heard a footstep, and seemed to move a little apartfrom the chair where Cicely was sitting. 

The two young people greeted their visitor, Cicely in a voice so lowthat it was scarcely audible, but with a smile that seemed, he thought, to welcome him; Sir Malcolm with a tragic solemnity which no doubt wasquite appropriate to a bereaved baronet. The appearance of a third partyseemed, however, to afford him no particular gratification, and afterexchanging a sentence or two, he begged, in a very serious tone, to beexcused, and retired, walking softly and mournfully. Ned noticed thenthat his face was extraordinarily pale and his eye disturbed. 

"I was afraid of disturbing you, " said Ned. He was embarrassed, a rarecondition with him, which, when it did afflict him, resulted in animpression of intimidating truculence. 

Cicely seemed to shrink a little, and he resolved to leave instantly. 

"Oh no!" she said shyly. 

"I only wanted to say that if I could do anything for you--well, you'veonly to let me know. "

"It's awfully kind of you, " she murmured. 

There was something so evidently sincere in this murmur that hisembarrassment forthwith left him. 

"Thank Heaven!" he said after his outspoken habit. "I was afraid I wasputting my foot in it. But if you really don't mind my seeing you for aminute or two, I'd just like to say----"

He broke off abruptly, and she looked up at him questioningly. 

"Dash it, I can't say it, Miss Farmond! But you know, don't you?"

She murmured something again, and though he could not quite hear what itwas, he knew she understood and appreciated. 

Leaning against the corner of the shrouded billiard table, with theblinds down and this pale slip of a girl in deep mourning sitting in abasket chair in the dim light, he began suddenly to realise the tragedy. 

"I've been too stunned till now to grasp what's happened, " he said in amoment. "Our best friend gone, Miss Farmond!"

He had said exactly the right thing now. 

"He certainly was mine!" she said. 

"And mine too. We may live to be a brace of Methuselahs, but I guesswe'll never see his like again!"

His odd phrase made her smile for a moment despite herself. It passedswiftly and she said:

"_I_ can't believe it yet. "

Again there was silence, and then he said abruptly:

"It's little wonder you can't believe it. The thing is so extraordinary. It's incredible. A man without an enemy in the world--no robberyattempted--sitting in his own library--in just about the most peacefuland out of the way county in Scotland--not a sound heard by anybody--nota reason that one can possibly imagine--and yet murdered!"

"But it must have been a robber surely!"

"Why didn't he rob something then?"

"But how else----?"

"How indeed! You've not a suspicion of any one yourself, Miss Farmond?Say it right out if you have. We don't lynch here. At least, " hecorrected himself as he recalled the telegraph posts, "it hasn't beendone yet. "

"I _can't_ suspect any one!" she said earnestly. "I never met any one inmy life that I could possibly imagine doing such a thing!"

"No, " he said. "I guess our experiences have been pretty different. I'vemet lots, but then there are none of those boys here. Who is there inthis place?"

He paused and stared into space. 

"It must have been a tramp--some one who doesn't belong here!"

"I was trying to think whether there are any lunatics about, " he said ina moment. "But there aren't any. "

There was silence for some minutes. He was thinking; she never moved. Then he heard a sound, and looking down saw that she had herhandkerchief in her hand. He had nearly bent over her before heremembered Sir Malcolm, and at the recollection he said abruptly:

"Well, I've disturbed you too long. If I can do anything--anythingwhatever, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"You are very, very kind, " she murmured, and a note in her voice nearlymade him forget the new baronet. In fact, he had to retire ratherquickly to be sure of himself. 

The efficiency of James Bisset was manifest at every conjuncture. Businesslike and brisk he appeared from somewhere as Cromarty reachedthe hall, and led him from the front regions to the butler's sittingroom. 

"I will bring your lunch in a moment, sir, " he murmured, and vanishedbriskly. 

The room looked out on a courtyard at the back, and through the windowNed could see against the opposite buildings the rain driving in clouds. In the court the wind was eddying, and beneath some door he could hearit drone insistently. Though the toughest of men, he shivered a littleand drew up a wicker chair close in front of the fire. 

"It's incredible!" he murmured, and as he stared at the flames thisthought seemed to haunt him all the time. 

Bisset laid the table and another hour passed. Ned ate a little lunchand then smoked and stared at the fire while the wind droned andblustered without ceasing, and occasionally a cross gust sent the raindrops softly pattering on the panes. 

"I'm damned if I see a thing!" he suddenly exclaimed half aloud, andjumped to his feet. 

Before he had time to start for the door, Bisset's mysterious efficiencywas made manifest again. Precisely as he was wanted, he appeared, andthis time it was clear that his own efforts had not been altogetherfruitless. He had in fact an air of even greater complacency than usual. 

"I have arrived at certain conclusions, sir, " he announced. 

XIII

THE DEDUCTIVE PROCESS

Bisset laid on the table a sheet of note paper. 

"Here, " said he, "is a kin' of bit sketch plan of the library. Observingthis plan attentively, you will notice two crosses, marked A and B. A iswhere yon wee table was standing--no the place against the wall where itwas standing this morning, but where it was standing before it wasknocked over last night. B is where the corp was found. You follow that, sir?"

Ned nodded. 

"I follow, " said he. 

"Now, the principle in a' these cases of crime and detection, " resumedthe philosopher, assuming his lecturer's air, "is noticing such sma'points of detail as escape the eye of the ordinar' observer, taking fulland accurate measurements, making a plan with the principal sitescarefully markit, and drawing, as it were, logical conclusions. Applyingthis method now to the present instance, Mr. Cromarty, the first pointto observe is that the room is twenty-six feet long, measured from thewindie, which is a bit recessed or set back, as it were, to the otherend of the apartment. Half of 26 is 13, and if you take the half wayline and draw approximate perpendiculars to about where the table wasstanding and to as near as one can remember where the middle of the corproughly was lying, you get exactly six feet ten and five-eighths inches, in both cases. "

"An approximate perpendicular to roughly about these places gives thisexact measurement?" repeated Cromarty gravely. "Well, what next?"

"Well, sir, I'll not insist too much on the coincidence, but it seems tome vera remarkable. But the two significant features of this case seemto me yon table being upset over by the windie and the corp being foundover by the door. "

"You're talking horse sense now, " murmured Ned. 

"Now, yon table was upset by Sir Reginald falling on it!"

Ned looked at him keenly. 

"How do you know?"

"Because one of the legs was broken clean off!"

"What, when we saw it this morning?"

"We had none of us noticed it then, sir; but I've had a look at itsince, and there's one leg broken fair off at the top. The break washalf in the socket, as it were, leaving a kind of spike, and if youstick that into the socket you can make the table look as good as new. It's all right, in fac', until you try to move it, and then of coursethe leg just drops out. "

"And it wasn't like that yesterday?"

"I happened to move it myself not so long before Sir Reginald came intothe room, and that's how I know for certain where it was standing andthat it wasn't broken. And yon wee light tables dinna lose their legsjust with being cowped, supposing there was nothing else than that tosmash them. No, sir, it was poor Sir Reginald falling on top of it thatsmashed yon leg. "

"Then he was certainly struck down near the window!"

"Well, we'll see that in a minute. It's no in reason, Mr. Cromarty, tosuppose he deliberately opened the windie to let his ain murderer in. And it's a' just stuff and nonsense to suggest Sir Reginald was sittingon a winter's night--or next door to winter onyhow, with his windie wideopen. I'm too well acquaint with his habits to believe that for aminute. And it's impossible the man can have opened a snibbed windie andgot in, with some one sitting in the room, and no alarm given. So it'sperfectly certain the man must have come in at the door. That's a fairdeduction, is it not, sir?"

Ned Cromarty frowned into space in silence. When he spoke it seemed tobe as much to himself as to Bisset. 

"How did the window get unsnibbed? Everything beats me, but that beatsme fairly. "

"Well, sir, Mr. Rattar may no be just exac'ly as intellectual as me andyou, but I think there's maybe something in his idea it was done to putus off the scent. "

"Possibly--but it strikes me as a derned feeble dodge. However, what'syour next conclusion?"

"My next conclusion is, sir, that Simon Rattar may not be so vera farwrong either about Sir Reginald hearing some one at the door andstarting to see who it was. Then--bang!--the door would suddenly open, and afore he'd time to speak, the man had given him a bat on the heidthat finished him. "

"And where does the table come in?"

"Well, my explanation is just this, that Sir Reginald suspectedsomething and took the wee table as a kind of weapon. "

"Rot!" said Ned ruthlessly. "You think he left the fireplace and wentround by the window to fetch such a useless weapon as that?"

James Bisset was not easily damped. 

"That's only a possibility, sir. Excluding that, what must havehappened? For that's the way, Mr. Cromarty, to get at the fac's; youjust exclude what's not possible and what remains is the truth. If you'dread----"

"Well, come on. What's your theory now?"

"Just that Sir Reginald backed away from the door with the man afterhim, till he got to the table. And then down went him and the tabletogether. "

"And why didn't he cry out or raise the alarm in some way while he wasbacking away?"

"God, but that fits into my other deductions fine!" cried Bisset. "Ihadna thought of that. Just wait, sir, till you see how the case isgoing to hang together in a minute. "

"But how did Sir Reginald's body come to be lying near the door?"

The philosopher seemed to be inspired afresh. 

"The man clearly meant to take it away and hide it somewhere--that'll bejust it! And then he found it ower heavy and decided to leave it afterall. "

"And who was this man?"

"That's precisely where proper principles, Mr. Cromarty, lead to anumber of vera interesting and instructive discoveries, and I thinkye'll see, sir, that the noose is on the road to his neck already. I'venot got the actual man, mind! In fac' I've no idea who he is, but I cantell you a good few things about him--enough, in fac', to make escapepractically impossible. In the first place, he was one well acquaintwith the ways of the house. Is that not a fair deduction, sir?"

"Sure!" said Ned. "I've put my bottom dollar on that already. "

"He came from inside this house and not outside it. How long he'd beenin the house, that I cannot say, but my own deductions are he'd been inthe house waiting for his chance for a good while before the masterheard him at yon door. Is that not a fair deduction too, sir?"

"It's possible, " said Ned, though not with great conviction. 

"And now here's a point that accounts for Sir Reginald giving noalarm--Sir Reginald knew the man and couldna believe he meantmischief!"

Ned looked at him quickly and curiously. 

"Well?" said he. 

"Is that not a fair deduction, Mr. Cromarty?"

"Seems to fill the bill. "

"And now, here's a few personal details. Yon man was a fair activestrong man to have dealt with the master the way he did. But he was notstrong enough to carry off the corp like a sack of potatoes; he was no agreat muckle big giant, that's to say. And finally, calculating from thedistance the body was from the door and the number of steps he would belikely to take to the door, and sae arriving at his stride and deducinghis height accordingly, he'd be as near as may be five feet nine inchestall. Now, sir, me and you ought to get him with a' that known!"

Ned Cromarty looked at him with a curious gleam in his eye. 

"What's your own height, Bisset?" he enquired. 

"Five feet nine inches, " said the reasoner promptly, and then suddenlyhis mouth fell open but his voice ceased. 

"And now, " pursued Ned with a grimly humorous look, "can you not thinkof a man just that height, pretty hefty but not a giant, who wascertainly in the house last night, who knew all the ways of it, and whowould never have been suspected by Sir Reginald of meaning mischief?"

"God!" exclaimed the unfortunate reasoner. "I've proved it was mysel'!"

"Well, and what shall I do--string you up now or hand you over to thepolice?"

"But, Mr. Cromarty--you don't believe that's right surely?"

Tragic though the occasion was, Ned could not refrain from one brieflaugh. And then his face set hard again and he said:

"No, Bisset, I do not believe it was you. In fact, I wouldn't believe itwas you if you confessed to it. But I'd advise you not to go spreadingyour deductions abroad! Deduction's a game that wants a bit morepractice than you or I have had. "

It is possible that James Bisset had never looked quite so crestfallenin his life. 

"Then that's all nonsense I've been talking, sir?" he said lugubriously. 

"No, " said Ned emphatically. "I'll not say that either. You've broughtout some good points--that broken table, the place the body was found, the possible reason why Sir Reginald gave no alarm; seems to me thosehave something to them. But what they mean--what to conclude; we're asfar off that, Bisset, as ever!"

The philosopher's self esteem was evidently returning as fast as it hadgone. 

"Then you wouldn't think there would be any harm, sir, in my continuingmy investigations?"

"On your present lines, the only harm is likely to be to yourself. Keepat it--but don't hang yourself accidentally. And let me know if youdiscover anything else--mind that. "

"I'll mind on it, no fears, Mr. Cromarty!"

Ned left him with an expression on his countenance which indicated thatthe deductive process had already been resumed. 

Till he arrived at his own door, the laird of Stanesland was unconsciousof a single incident of his drive home. All the way his eye staredstraight into space. Sometimes a gleam would light it for an instant, and then he would shake his head and the gleam would fade away. 

"I can see neither a damned head nor a damned tail to it!" he said tohimself as he alighted. 

XIV

THE QUESTION OF MOTIVE

Two days later Mr. Ison entered Mr. Simon Rattar's room and informed himthat Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland wished to see him on particularbusiness. The lawyer was busy and this interruption seemed for themoment distinctly unwelcome. Then he grunted:

"Show him in. "

In the minute or two that passed before the laird's entrance, Simonseemed to be thinking intently and finally to come to a decision, which, to judge from his reception of his client, was on rather different linesfrom his first thoughts when Mr. Cromarty's name was announced. Todescribe Simon Rattar at any time as genial would be an exaggeration, but he showed his nearest approach to geniality as he bade his clientgood-morning. 

"Sorry to interrupt you, " said Ned, "but I can't get this business outof my head, night or day. Whether you want me or not, I've got to play ahand in this game; but it's on your side, Mr. Rattar, and maybe I mightbe able to help a little if I could get something to go on. "

The lawyer nodded. 

"I quite understand. Glad to have your help, Mr. Cromarty. Dreadfulaffair. We're all trying to get to the bottom of it, I can assure you. "

"I believe you, " said Ned. "There never was a man better worth avengingthan Sir Reginald. "

"Quite so, " said Simon briefly, his eyes fixed on the other's face. 

"Any fresh facts?"

Simon drew a sheet of paper from his desk. 

"Superintendent Sutherland has given me a note of three--for what theyare worth, discovered by the butler. The first is about that table. Itseems a leg has been broken. "

"Bisset told me that before I left the house. "

"And thought it was an important fact, I suppose?"

"What its importance is, it's hard to say, but it's a fact, and seems tome well worth noting. "

"It is noted, " said the Procurator Fiscal drily. "But I can't see thatit leads anywhere. "

"Bisset maintains it implies Sir Reginald fell over it when he wasstruck down; and that seems to me pretty likely. "

Simon shook his head. 

"How do we know Sir Reginald hadn't broken it himself previously andthen set it up against the wall--assuming it ever stood anywhere else, which seems to want confirmation?"

"A dashed thin suggestion!" said Ned. "However, what are the otherdiscoveries?"

"The second is that one or two small fragments of dried mud were foundunder the edge of the curtain, and the third is that the hearth brushwas placed in an unusual position--according to Bisset. "

"And what are Bisset's conclusions?"

"That the man, whoever he was, had brought mud into the room and thenswept it up with the hearth brush; these fragments being pieces that hehad swept accidentally under the curtain and so overlooked. "

"Good for Bisset!" exclaimed Ned. "He has got there this time, I dobelieve. "

Simon smiled sceptically. 

"Sir Reginald was in the library in his walking boots that afternoon. Naturally he would leave mud, and quite likely he swept it up himselfthen, though the only evidence of sweeping is Bisset's statement aboutthe brush. And what proof is that of anything? Does your hearth brushalways stay in the same position?"

"Never noticed, " said Ned. 

"And I don't believe anybody notices sufficiently closely to make theirevidence on such a point worth a rap!" said Simon. 

"A servant would. "

"Well, Mr. Cromarty, make the most of the hearth brush then. "

There seemed for an instant to be a defiant note in the ProcuratorFiscal's voice that made Ned glance at him sharply. But he saw nothingin his face but the same set and steady look. 

"We're on the same side in this racket, Mr. Rattar, " said Ned. "I'monly trying to help--same as you. "

Simon's voice seemed now to have exactly the opposite note. For him, histone of acquiescence was even eager. 

"Quite so; quite so, Mr. Cromarty. We are acting together; exactly. "

"That's all the new evidence then?"

Simon nodded, and a few moments of silence followed. 

"Tell me honestly, " demanded Ned at last, "have you actually no clue atall? No suspicion of any kind? Haven't you got on the track of anypossible reason for the deed?"

"Reason?" repeated Simon. "Now we come to business, Mr. Cromarty. What'sthe motive? That's the point. "

"Have you found one?"

Simon looked judicially discreet. 

"At this moment all I can tell you is to answer the question: 'Whobenefits by Sir Reginald Cromarty's death?'"

"Well--who did? Seems to me every one who knew him suffered. "

"Sentimentally perhaps--but not financially. "

Ned looked at him in silence, as if an entirely new point of view weredawning on his mind. But he compressed his lips and merely asked:

"Well?"

"To begin with, nothing was stolen from the house. Therefore no outsidethief or burglar gained anything. I may add also that the police havemade enquiries throughout the whole county, and no bad characters areknown to be in the place. Therefore there is no ground for supposing thedeed was the work of a robber, and to my mind, no evidence worthconsidering to support that view. The only people that gained anything, Mr. Cromarty, are those who will benefit under Sir Reginald's will. "

Cromarty's expression did not change again. This was evidently the newpoint of view. 

Simon opened a drawer and took from it a document. 

"In the ordinary course of events Sir Reginald's will would not be knowntill after his funeral to-morrow, but if I may regard this conversationas confidential, I can tell you the principal facts so far as theyaffect this case. "

"I don't want you to do anything you shouldn't, " said Ned quickly. "Ifit's not the proper game to read the will now, don't. "

But Silent Simon seemed determined to oblige this morning. 

"It is a mere matter of form delaying till to-morrow, and I shall notread it now; merely tell you the pertinent facts briefly. "

"Fire away then. The Lord knows I want to learn every derned pertinentfact--want to badly!"

"In the first place, " the lawyer began, "Lady Cromarty is life rented inthe mansion and property, less certain sums to be paid to other people, which I am coming to. She therefore lost her husband and a certainamount of income, and gained nothing that we know of. "

"That's a cold-blooded way of putting it, " said Ned with something likea shiver. "However, what next?"

"Sir Malcolm gets £1, 000 a year to support him during the life time ofLady Cromarty, and afterwards falls heir to the whole estate. Hetherefore gains a baronetcy and £1, 000 a year immediately, and theestate is brought a stage nearer him. Miss Farmond gets a legacy of£2, 000. She therefore gained £2, 000. "

"Not that she'll need it, " said Ned quickly. "That item doesn't count. "

Simon looked at him curiously. 

"Why not?" he enquired. 

Ned hesitated a moment. 

"Perhaps I oughtn't to have said anything, " he said, "but thisconversation is confidential, and anyhow the fact will be known soonenough now, I guess. She is engaged to Sir Malcolm. "

For a moment Simon continued to look at him very hard. Then he merelysaid:

"Indeed?"

"Of course you won't repeat this till they care to make it knownthemselves. I told you so that you'd see a legacy of two thousand poundswouldn't count much. It only means an income of--what?"

"One hundred pounds at five per cent; eighty pounds at four. "

"Well, that will be neither here nor there now. "

Again Simon stared in silence for a moment, but rather through than athis visitor, it seemed. Then he glanced down at the document again. 

"James Bisset gets a legacy of three hundred pounds. There are a fewsmaller legacies to servants, but the only two that might have affectedthis case do not actually do so. One is John Robertson, Sir Reginald'schauffeur, but on the night of the crime he was away from home and analibi can be established till two in the morning. The other is DonaldMackay, the gardener, but he is an old man and was in bed withrheumatism that night. "

"I see, " observed Ned, "you are giving everybody mentioned in the willcredit for perhaps having committed the murder, supposing it wasphysically possible?"

"I am answering the question--who that could conceivably have committedit, had a motive for doing so? And also, what was that motive?"

"Is that the whole list of them?"

Mr. Rattar glanced at the will again. 

"Sir Reginald has cancelled your own debt of twelve hundred pounds, Mr. Cromarty. "

"What!" exclaimed Ned, and for a moment could say no more. Then he saidin a low voice: "It's up to me more than ever!"

"That is the full list of persons within the vicinity two nights ago whogained by Sir Reginald's death, " said Simon in a dry voice, as he putaway the will. 

"Including me?" said Ned. "Well, all I've got to say is this, Mr. Rattar, that my plain common sense tells me that those are no motives atall. For who knew what they stood to gain by this will? Or that theystood to gain any blessed thing at all? I hadn't the foggiest notion SirReginald meant to cancel that debt!"

"You may not have known, " said Simon still very drily, "and it is quitepossible that Bisset may not have known of his legacy. Though, on theother hand, it is likely enough that Sir Reginald mentioned the factthat he would be remembered. But Lady Cromarty presumably knew hisarrangements. And it is most unlikely that he should have said nothingto his heir about his intention to make him an adequate allowance if hecame into the title and Lady Cromarty was still alive and life rented inthe place. Also, it is highly probable that either Sir Reginald or LadyCromarty told Miss Farmond that some provision would be made for her. "

Ned Cromarty said nothing for a few moments, but he seemed to bethinking very hard. Then he rose from his chair and remarked:

"Well, I guess this has all got to be thought over. "

He moved slowly to the door, while Simon gazed silently into space. Hishand was on the handle when the lawyer turned in his chair and asked:

"Why was nothing said about Sir Malcolm's engagement to Miss Farmond?"

"Well, " said Ned, "the whole thing is no business of mine, but SirReginald had pretty big ideas in some ways and probably one of them wasconnected with his heir's marriage. "

"A clandestine engagement then?"

Ned Cromarty seemed to dislike the term. 

"It's none of my business, " he said shortly. "There was no blame onanyone, anyhow; and mind you, this is absolutely confidential. "

The door closed behind him and Simon was left still apparently thinking. 

XV

TWO WOMEN

On the day after the funeral Lady Cromarty for the first time felt ableto see the family lawyer. Simon Rattar came out in the morning in ahired car and spent more than a couple of hours with her. Then for ashort time he was closeted with Sir Malcolm, who, referring to theinterview afterwards, described him as "infernally close andunsatisfactory"; and finally, in company with the young baronet andCicely Farmond, he ate a hurried lunch and departed. 

Ever since the fatal evening, Lady Cromarty had been shut up in her ownapartments and the two young people had taken their meals together. SirMalcolm at his brightest and best had been capricious company. He wasnow moody beyond all Cicely's experience of him. His newborn solemnitywas the most marked feature of his demeanour, but sometimes it dissolvedinto pathetic demands for sympathy, and then again froze into profoundand lugubrious silence. He said that he was sleeping badly, and thepallor of his face and the darkness beneath his eyes seemed to confirmthis. Several times he appeared to be on the point of some peculiarlysolemn disclosure of his feelings or his symptoms, but always ended byupbraiding his fellow guest for her lack of sympathy, and then relapsinginto silence. 

Every now and then on such occasions Cicely caught him staring at herwith an expression she had never seen before, and then looking hurriedlyaway; a disconcerting habit that made her own lot none the easier. Sofar as the observant Bisset could judge, the baronet seemed, indeed, tobe having so depressing an effect upon the young lady that as her friendand counsellor he took the liberty of advising a change of air. 

"We'll miss you vera much, Miss Farmond, " he was good enough to say, "but I'm thinking that what you want is a seaside resort. "

She smiled a little sadly. 

"I shall have to make a change very soon, Bisset, " she said. "Indeed, perhaps I ought to have let Lady Cromarty know already that I was readyto go the moment I was sure I could do nothing more for her. "

She began her packing on the morning of Simon's visit. At lunch her airwas a little livelier at first, as if even Simon Rattar were a welcomevariety in a régime of undiluted baronet. Sir Malcolm, too, endeavouredto do the honours with some degree of cheerfulness; but short though themeal was, both were silent before the end and vaguely depressedafterwards. 

"I can't stand the old fellow's fishy eye!" declared Sir Malcolm. "I'das soon lunch with a cod-fish, dash it! Didn't you feel it too, Cicely?"

"He seemed to look at one so uncomfortably, " she agreed. "I couldn'thelp feeling he had something on his mind against me, though I supposehe really doesn't trouble his head about my existence. "

"I'm hanged if I like the way he looks at me!" muttered the baronet, andonce again Cicely caught that odd expression in his eye. 

That afternoon Bisset informed Miss Farmond that her ladyship desired tosee her. Lady Cromarty's face looked thinner than ever and her lips moretightly compressed. In her deep mourning and with her grave air, sheseemed to Cicely a monumental figure of tragedy. Her thinness and pallorand tight lips, she thought only natural, but there was one note thatseemed discordant with pure desolation. The note was sounded by LadyCromarty's eyes. At all times they had been ready to harden upon anoccasion, but Cicely thought she had never seen them as hard as theywere now. 

"What are your plans, Cicely?" she asked in a low, even voice thatshowed no feeling one way or the other. 

"I have begun to pack already, " said the girl. "I don't want to leave solong as I can be of any use here, but I am ready to go at any time. "

She had expected to be asked where she was going, but Lady Cromartyinstead of putting any question, looked at her for a few moments insilence. And it was then that a curious uncomfortable feeling began topossess the girl. It had no definite form and was founded on no reason, beyond the steady regard of those hard dark eyes. 

"I had rather you stayed. "

Cicely's own eyes showed her extreme surprise. 

"Stayed--here?"

"Yes. "

"But are you sure? Wouldn't you really rather be alone? It isn't for mysake, is it? because--"

"It is for mine. I want you to remain here and keep me company. "

She spoke without a trace of smile or any softening of her face, andCicely still hesitated. 

"But would it really be convenient? You have been very kind to me, andif you really want me here--"

"I do, " interrupted Lady Cromarty in the same even voice. "I want youparticularly to remain. "

"Very well then, I shall. Thank you very much--"

Again she was cut short. 

"That is settled then. Perhaps you will excuse me now, Cicely. "

The girl went downstairs very thoughtfully. At the foot the youngbaronet met her. 

"Have you settled where to go?" he asked. 

"Lady Cromarty has asked me to stay on with her. "

His face fell. 

"Stay on in this house of mourning? Oh, no, Cicely!"

"I have promised, " she said. 

The young man grew curiously agitated. 

"Oh, don't stay here!" he besought her. "It keeps me in such dreadfulsuspense!"

"In suspense!" she exclaimed. "Whatever do you mean, Malcolm?"

Again she saw that look in his eye, and again he raised asympathy-beseeching wail. Cicely's patience began to give way. 

"Really, Malcolm!" she cried tartly, "if you have anything to say, sayit, but don't go on like a baby!"

"Like a baby!" repeated the deeply affronted baronet. "Heavens, wouldyou liken me to _that_, of all things! I had meant to confide in you, Cicely, but you have made it impossible. Impossible!" he repeatedsombrely, and stalked to the door. 

Next morning, Sir Malcolm left for London, his confidence still lockedin his breast, and Cicely was alone with Lady Cromarty. 

XVI

RUMOUR

One windy afternoon a man on a bicycle struggled up to the door ofStanesland Castle and while waiting for an answer to his ring, studiedthe front of that ancient building with an expression which would atonce have informed his intimates that he was meditating on theprinciples of Scottish baronial architecture. A few minutes later Mr. Bisset was shown into the laird of Stanesland's smoking room andaddressed Mr. Cromarty with a happy blend of consciousness of his ownimportance and respect for the laird's. 

"I have taken the liberty of calling, sir, for to lay before you a fewfresh datas. "

"Fire away, " said the laird. 

"In the first place, sir, I understand that you have been makingenquiries through the county yourself, sir; is that not so?"

"I've been through this blessed county, Bisset, from end to end to seewhether I could get on the track of any suspicious stranger. I've beenworking both with the police and independent of the police, and I'vedrawn blank. "

Bisset looked distinctly disappointed. 

"I've heard, sir, one or two stories which I was hoping might havesomething in them. "

"I've heard about half a dozen and gone into them all, and there'snothing in one of them. "

"Half a dozen stories?" Bisset's eye began to look hopeful again. "Well, sir, perhaps if I was to go into some of them again in the light of myfresh datas, they might wear, as it were, a different aspect. "

"Well, " said Ned. "What have you found? Have a cigar and let's hear whatyou've been at. "

The expert crackled the cigar approvingly between his fingers, lit itwith increased approval, and began:

"Yon man was behind the curtains all the time. "

"The devil he was! How do you know?"

"Well, sir, it's a matter of deduction. Ye see supposing he came in bythe door, there are objections, and supposing he came in by the windiethere are objections. Either way there are objections which make itdifficult for to accept those theories. And then it struck me--the manmust have been behind the curtains all the while!"

"He must have come either by the door or window to get there. "

"That's true, Mr. Cromarty. But such minor points we can consider in awee while, when we have seen how everything is otherwise explained. Nowsupposing we have the murderer behind the curtains; that brings himwithin six feet of where the wee table was standing. How did he get SirReginald to come to the table? He made some kind of sound. What kind ofsound? Some imitation of an animal; probably of a cat. How did SirReginald not cry out when he saw the man? Because he never did see theman! How did he not see him?"

"Man was a ventriloquist and made a sound in the other direction, "suggested Ned with extreme gravity. 

"God, but that's possible, Mr. Cromarty! I hadna thought of that! Well, it'll fit into the facts all right, you'll see. My theory was thateither the man threw something at the master and knocked him down thatway, or he was able to reach out and give him a bat on the heid withoutmoving from the curtains. "

"He must have been an awkward customer. "

"He was that! A great tall man with long arms. And what had he at theend of them? Either a club such as savages use or something to throwlike a boomerang. And he could imitate animals, and as you say, he wasprobably a ventriloquist. And he was that active and strong he could getinto the house through one of the windies, just like a great monkey. Nowwhat's the history of that man?"

"Pretty wild, I guess. "

"Ah, but one can say more than that, sir. He was not an ordinaryEnglishman or Scotchman. He was from the Colonies or America or one ofthae wild places! Is that not a fair deduction, sir?"

"It all points to that, " said Ned, with a curious look. 

"It points to that indeed, sir. Now where's he hidden himself? It shouldnot be difficult to find him with all that to go on. "

"A tall active strong man who has lived in the Colonies or America; oneought to get him. Has he only one eye, by any chance?"

The reasoner gazed petrified at his counsellor. 

"God, but I've just described yoursel', sir!" he cried in an unhappyvoice. 

"You're determined to hang one of us, Bisset. "

For a moment Bisset seemed to find conversation difficult. Then he saidmiserably:

"So it's no good, and all the alternatives just fa' to pieces. "

The extreme dejection of his voice struck the other sharply. 

"Alternatives to what?" he asked. 

For a few seconds Bisset did not answer. 

"What's on your mind, man?" demanded Cromarty. 

"The reason, sir, I've got that badly off the rails with my deductionsis just that I _had_ to find some other theory than the story that'sgoing about. "

"What story?"

"You've no heard it, sir?"

Ned shook his head. 

"I hardly like to repeat it, sir; it's that cruel and untrue. They'resaying Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond had got engaged to be married. "

"Well?" said Ned sharply, and he seemed to control his feelings with aneffort. 

"A secret engagement, like, that Sir Reginald would never have allowed. But there I think they're right, sir. Sir Reginald was unco' taken upwith Miss Farmond, but he'd have looked higher for his heir. And so asthey couldn't get married while he was alive--neither of them having anymoney, well, sir, this story says--"

He broke off and neither spoke for an instant. 

"Good God!" murmured Cromarty. "They actually accuse Malcolm Cromartyand Miss Cicely of--?"

He paused too, and Bisset nodded. 

"Who is saying this?"

"It seems to be the clash of the haill country by this time, sir. "

He seemed a little frightened at the effect of his own words; and it wassmall wonder. Ned Cromarty was a nasty looking customer at that moment. 

"Who started the lie?"

"It's just ignorance and want of education of the people, I'm thinking, Mr. Cromarty. They're no able to grasp the proper principles--"

"Lady Cromarty must be told! She could put a stop to it--"

Something in Bisset's look pulled him up sharply. 

"I'm afraid her ladyship believes it herself, sir. Maybe you have heardshe has keepit Miss Farmond to stay on with her. "

"I have. "

"Well, sir, " said Bisset very slowly and deliberately, "I'mthinking--it's just to watch her. "

Ned Cromarty had been smoking a pipe. There was a crack now as his teethwent through the mouthpiece. He flung the pipe into the fire, jumped up, and began pacing the room without a word or a glance at the other. Atlast he stopped as abruptly as he had started. 

"This slander has got to be stopped!"

And then he paced on. 

"Just what I was saying to myself, sir. It was likely a wee thing ofover anxiety to stop it that made me think o' the possibility of a wildman from America, which was perhaps a bit beyond the limits of what yemight call, as it were, scientific deduction. "

"When did Lady Cromarty begin to take up this attitude?"

"Well, the plain truth is, sir, that her ladyship has been keeping saemuch to herself that it's not rightly possible to tell what's been inher mind. But it was the afternoon when Mr. Rattar had been at the housethat she sent for Miss Farmond and tellt her then she was wanting her tostop on. "

"That would be after she knew the contents of the will! I wonder if theidea had entered her head before, or if the will alone started it? OldSimon would never start such a scandal himself about his best client. Heknows too well which side his bread is buttered for that! But he mighthave talked his infernal jargon about the motive and the people whostood to gain by the death. That might have been enough to set hersuspicions off. "

"Or I was thinking maybe, sir, it was when her ladyship heard of theengagement. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Ned, stopping suddenly again, "that's possible. When didshe hear?"

Bisset shook his head. 

"That beats me again, sir. Her own maid likely has been telling herthings the time we've not been seeing her. "

"Did the maid--or did you know about the engagement?"

"Servants are uneducated creatures, " said Bisset contemptuously. "Andwomen at the best have just the ae' thought--who's gaun to be foolenough to marry next? They were always gossiping about Mr. Malcolm andMiss Cicely, but there was never what I should call a data to found adeduction on; not for a sensible person. I never believed it myself, butit's like enough her ladyship may have suspected it for a while back. "

"I suppose Lady Cromarty has been nearly distracted?"

"Very near, sir. "

"That's her only excuse. But the story is such obvious nonsense, Bisset, that surely no one in their proper senses really believes it?"

The philosopher shook a wise head. 

"I have yet to learn, Mr. Cromarty, what folks will not believe. "

"They've got to stop believing this!" said Ned emphatically. 

XVII

A SUGGESTION

Next morning Simon Rattar was again informed that Mr. Cromarty ofStanesland wished to see him, and again the announcement seemed to beunwelcome. He was silent for several seconds before answering, and whenhe allowed Mr. Cromarty to be shown in, it was with an air whichsuggested the getting over a distasteful business as soon as possible. 

"Well, Mr. Cromarty?" he grunted brusquely. 

Mr. Cromarty never beat about the bush. 

"I've come to see you about this scandalous story that's going round. "

The lawyer glanced at the papers he had been busy with, as if toindicate that they were of more importance than scandals. 

"What story?" he enquired. 

"That Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond were concerned in Sir Reginald'smurder. "

There was something compelling in Ned's directness. Simon pushed asidethe papers and looked at him fixedly. 

"Oh, " he said. "They say that, do they?"

"Haven't you heard?"

Simon's grunt was non-committal. 

"Well anyway, this derned story is going about, and something's got tobe done to stop it. "

"What do you suggest?"

"Are you still working the case for all you know how?"

Simon seemed to resent this enquiry a little. 

"I am the Procurator Fiscal. The police make the actual enquiries. Theyhave done everything they could. "

"'They have done'? Do you mean that they have stopped looking for themurderer?"

"Certainly not. They are still enquiring; not that it is likely to bemuch further use. "

There seemed to be a sardonic note in his last words that deepenedCromarty's frown and kindled his eye. 

"You mean to suggest that any conclusion has been reached?"

"Nothing is absolutely certain, " said Simon. 

Again the accent on the "absolutely" seemed to rouse his visitor's ire. 

"You believe this story, do you?"

"If I _believed_ it, I should order an arrest. I have just told younothing is absolutely certain. "

"Look here, " said Cromarty, "I don't want to crab SuperintendentSutherland or his men, but you want to get somebody better than them onto this job. "

Though the Procurator Fiscal kept his feelings well in hand, it wasevident that this suggestion struck him more unfavourably than anythinghis visitor had said yet. He even seemed for one instant to be a littlestartled by its audacity. 

"I disagree, " he muttered. 

"Now don't you take offence, Mr. Rattar, " said Ned with a sudden smile. "I'm not aiming this at you, but, hang it, you know as well as I do thatSutherland is no great shakes at detection. They are all just countrybobbies. What we want is a London detective. "

Simon seemed to have recovered his equanimity during this speech. Heshook his head emphatically, but his voice was as dispassionatelybrusque as ever. 

"London detective? Much over-rated people, I assure you. No use in acase of this kind. "

"The very kind of case a real copper-bottomed expert would be some usein!"

"You are thinking of detectives in stories, Mr. Cromarty. The real menare no better than Sutherland--not a bit. I believe in Sutherland. Better man than he looks. Very shrewd, most painstaking. Couldn't have abetter man. Useless expense getting a man from London. "

"Don't you trouble about the expense, Mr. Rattar. That can be arrangedall right. I want a first class man engaged. "

The sudden glance which the lawyer shot at him, struck Ned as unusual inhis experience of Simon Rattar. He appeared to be startled again, andyet it was not mere annoyance that seemed to show for the fraction of asecond in his eye. And then the next instant the man's gaze was as coldand steady as ever. He pursed his lips and considered his answer insilence before he spoke. 

"You are a member of the family, Mr. Cromarty; the actual head of it, infact, I believe. "

"Going by pedigrees, I believe I am, but being a member is reason enoughfor my wanting to get daylight through this business--and seeingsomebody swing for it!"

"What if you made things worse?"

"Worse! How could they be?"

"Mr. Cromarty, I am the Procurator Fiscal in charge of this case. But Iam also lawyer and factor to the Cromarty family, and my father wasbefore me. If there was evidence enough--clear and proper evidence--toconvict any person of this crime, it would be my duty as ProcuratorFiscal to convict them. But there is no definite evidence, as you knowyourself. All we can do, if we push this matter too far, is to make afamily scandal public. Are you as the head of the Cromarty family, and Ias their factor, to do this?"

It was difficult to judge with what feelings Ned Cromarty heard thisdeliberate statement and appeal. His mouth was as hard as the lawyer'sand his eye revealed nothing. 

"Then you propose to hush the thing up?"

"I said nothing about hushing up. I propose to wait till I get some_evidence_, Mr. Cromarty. It is a little difficult perhaps for a laymanto realise what evidence means, but I can tell you--and any lawyer, orany detective, would tell you--we have nothing that can be calledevidence yet. "

"And you won't get any till you call in somebody a cut aboveSutherland. "

"The scent is too cold by this time--"

"Who let it cool?" interrupted Ned. 

For a moment the lawyer's eyes looked unpleasant. 

"Every effort was made to find a clue; by yourself as well as by thepolice. And let me tell you, Mr. Cromarty, that our efforts have notbeen as fruitless as you seem to think. "

"What have we discovered?"

"In the first place that there was no robbery committed and no sign ofanybody having entered the house from the outside. "

Ned shook his head. 

"That's a lot too strong. I believe the man _did_ come in by thewindow. "

"You admit there is no proof?"

"Sure, " said Ned candidly. "I quite admit there is no proof ofanything--yet. "

"No robbery, no evidence of anyone having come in by the window--"

"No proof, " corrected Ned. "I maintain that the window being unsnibbedand that mud on the floor and the table near the window being upset isevidence; but not proof positive. "

Simon's patience had by this time become exemplary. His only wish seemedto be to convince by irresistible argument this obstinate objector. Itstruck the visitor, moreover, that in this effort the lawyer wasdisplaying a fluency not at all characteristic of silent Simon. 

"Well, let us leave it at that. Suppose there be a possibility thatentry was actually made by the window. It is a bare possibility againstthe obvious and easy entrance by the door, --near which, remember, thebody was found. Then, as I have pointed out, there was no robbery, andnot a trace has been found of anybody outside that house with a motivefor the crime. "

"Except me. "

"Unless you care to except yourself. But neither you nor the police havefound any bad characters in the place. "

"That's true enough, " Ned admitted reluctantly. 

"On the other hand, there were within the house two people with a verystrong motive for committing the crime. "

"I deny that!" cried Ned with a sudden gleam of ferocity in his eye thatseemed to disconcert the lawyer. 

"Deny it? You can scarcely deny that two young people, in love with oneanother and secretly engaged, with no money, and no chance of gettingmarried, stood to gain everything they wanted by a death that gave themfreedom to marry, a baronetcy, a thousand a year, and two thousand incash besides?"

"Damn it, Mr. Rattar, is the fact that a farmer benefits by a shower anyevidence that he has turned on the rain?"

"I have repeatedly said, Mr. Cromarty, that there is no definiteevidence to convict anybody. But nothing would have been easier thanmaking an end of Sir Reginald Cromarty, to anybody inside that housewhom he would never suspect till they struck the blow. All the necessaryconditions are fulfilled by this view of the case, whereas every otherview--every other view, mind you, Mr. Cromarty--is confronted with thesedifficulties:--no robbery, no definite evidence of entry, no explanationof Sir Reginald's extraordinary silence when the man appeared, no badcharacters in the neighbourhood, and, above all, no motive. "

At the end of this speech Simon shut his mouth tight and leaned back inhis chair. For a moment it seemed as though Ned Cromarty was impressedby the lawyer's view of the case. But when he replied, his voice, thoughdeliberate had a fighting ring in it, and his single eye, a fightinglight. 

"Then you propose to leave this young couple under the most damnablecloud of suspicion that a man and a woman could lie under--simply leave'em there, and let that be the end of it?"

Simon seemed to be divided between distaste for this way of putting thecase, and anxiety still to convince his visitor. 

"I propose to avoid the painful family scandal which further disclosuresand more publicity would almost certainly bring about; so long as I amjustified as Procurator Fiscal in taking this course. And until I getmore evidence, I am not only justified but forced to take this course. "

Ned suddenly jumped to his feet. 

"I'm no lawyer, " said he, "but to me you seem to be arguing in thedamnedest circle I ever met. You won't do anything because you can'tget more evidence. And you won't look for more evidence because youdon't want to do anything. "

There was more than a hint of temper in Simon's eye and his answer wasrapped out sharply. 

"I certainly do not _want_ to cause a family scandal. I haven't said allI could say about Sir Malcolm if I were pressed. "

"Why not?"

"I've told you. Suspicion is not evidence, but if I do get evidence, those who will suffer by it had better beware!"

Ned turned at the door and surveyed him with a cool and caustic eye. 

"That's talk, " he said, "and something has got to be _done_. "

He was gone, and Simon Rattar was left frowning at the closed doorbehind him. The frown remained, but became now rather thoughtful thanindignant. Then he sprang up and began to pace the floor, deliberatelyat first, and then more rapidly and with increasing agitation. 

XVIII

£1200

Ned Cromarty had returned home and was going upstairs, when he heard avoice cry:

"Ned!"

The ancient stone stair, spiralling up round the time-worn pillar thatseemed to have no beginning or end, gave at intervals on to doors whichlooked like apertures in a cliff. Through one of these he turned and atthe end of a brief passage came to his sister's sitting room. In thatmediæval setting of ponderous stone, it looked almost fantastic in itsdaintiness. It was a small room of many cushions and many colours, itsfloor covered with the softest rugs and its walls with innumerablephotographs, largely of country houses where Miss Cromarty had visited. 

Evidently she was a lady accustomed to a comfortable life in her rovingdays, and her sitting room seemed to indicate very distinctly that sheproposed to live up to this high standard permanently. 

"Oh Neddy dear, I want to talk to you about something, " she began in herbrisk way and with her brightest smile. 

Her brother, though of a simple nature, was by this time aware that whenhe was termed "Neddy dear" the conversation was apt to turn on MissCromarty's requirements. 

"Well, " said he, "how much is the cheque to be this time?"

"How clever you're getting!" she laughed. "But it isn't a cheque I wantthis time. It's only a motor car. "

He looked at her doubtfully for a moment. 

"Pulling my leg; or a real car?"

"Real car of course--nice one too!"

"But, my dear girl, we've just put down our car. You agreed it wasnecessary. "

"I agreed then; but it isn't necessary now. "

"Have you come into a fortune? I haven't!"

"You've come into £1200. "

Again he looked at her, and this time his expression changed. 

"That's only a debt wiped out. "

"Well, and your great argument for economy was that you had to pay backthat debt. Now you haven't. See, Neddy dear?"

Her brother began to shake his head, and her smile became a little lessbright. 

"I don't want to get my affairs into a tangle again just yet. "

"But they weren't in a bad tangle. Cancelling that debt makes usabsolutely all right again. It's absurd for people like us not to have acar! Look at the distances from our neighbours! One can't go anywhere. I'll undertake to keep down the household expenses if you get the car. "

Her brother frowned out of the window. 

"No, " he said, "it's too soon to get a car again. "

"But you told me you had got part of that £1200 in hand and hoped tomake up the rest very soon. What are you going to do with the moneynow?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder for an instant and then his mouthassumed a grim and obstinate look she knew too well. 

"I may need the money, " he said briefly. "And I'm not much in the moodat this moment for buying things. "

Behind his back Lilian made a little grimace. Then in a tone of sisterlyexpostulation she said:

"You are worrying too much over this affair, Ned. You've done all youcan----"

He interrupted her brusquely:

"And it's dashed little! What have I actually done? Nothing! One needs abetter man than me. "

"Well, there's your friend Silent Simon, and all the police--"

"A fat lot of good they are!" said Ned. 

His sister looked a little surprised at his unusual shortness of temper. To her he was very rarely like this. 

"You need a good day's shooting to take your mind off it for a little, "she suggested. 

He turned upon her hotly. 

"Do you know the story that's going about, Lilian?"

"Sir Malcolm and the Farmond girl? Oh, rather, " she nodded. 

"Is that how it strikes you?"

Lilian Cromarty jumped. There was something very formidable in herbrother's voice. 

"My dear Ned, don't frighten me! Eat me if you like, but eat me quietly. I didn't say I believed the story. "

"I hope not, " he said in the same grim tone, "but do you mean to say itdoesn't strike you as the damnedest slander ever spread?"

"Between myself I hadn't called it the 'damnedest' anything. But how doI know whether it's a slander?"

"You actually think it might conceivably be true?"

She shrugged her well-gowned shoulders. 

"I never could stand Malcolm Cromarty--a conceited little jackanapes. Hehasn't a penny and he was head over ears in debt. "

It was his turn to start. 

"Was he?"

"Oh, rather! Didn't you know? Owed money everywhere. "

"But such a crime as that!"

"A man with ties and hair like his is capable of anything. You knowquite well yourself he is a rotter. "

"Anyhow you can't believe Cicely Farmond had anything to do with it?"

Again she shrugged her shoulders. 

"My dear Ned, I'm not a detective. A pretty face is no proof a woman isa saint. I told you before that there was generally something in theblood in those cases. "

As he stared at her, it seemed as though her words had indeed rushedback to his memory, and that they hit him hard. 

"People don't say that, do they?" he asked in a low voice. 

"Really, Ned, I don't know everything people say: but they are notlikely to overlook much in such a case. "

He stood for a moment in silence. 

"She--I mean they've both got to be cleared!" he said, and strode out ofthe room. 

XIX

THE EMPTY COMPARTMENT

It was on this same evening that Superintendent Sutherland was almostrewarded for his vigilance by having something distinctly suspicious toreport. As it happened, it proved a disappointing incident, but it gavethe superintendent something to think about. 

He was going a few stations down the line to investigate a rumour of asuspicious person seen in that neighbourhood. It was a vague andimprobable rumour and the superintendent was setting out merely as amatter of form, and to demonstrate his vigilance and almost abnormalsense of duty. Darkness had already fallen for an hour or two when hestrode with dignified gait down the platform, exchanging a greeting withan acquaintance or two, till he came to the front carriage of the train. He threw open the door of the rear compartment, saw that it was empty, and was just going to enter when glancing over his shoulder he perceivedhis own cousin Mr. MacAlister upon the platform. Closing the door, hestepped down again and greeted him. 

Mr. MacAlister hailed him with even more than usual friendliness, andafter a few polite preliminaries drew him insidiously towards the farside of the platform. An intelligent, inveterate and perseveringcuriosity was Mr. MacAlister's dominating characteristic, and as soon ashe had got his distinguished kinsman out of earshot of the herd, heinquired in a hushed voice:

"And what's doing aboot the murder noo, George?"

The superintendent pursed his lips and shook his head. 

"Aye, man, yon's a proper puzzle, " said he. 

"But you'll have gotten a guid idea whae's din it by noo, George?" saidMr. MacAlister persuasively. 

"Weel, " admitted the superintendent, "we maybe have our notions, butthere's no evidence yet, Robbie; that's the fair truth. As the fiscalsays, there's no evidence. "

"I'd like fine to hae a crack wi' you aboot it, George, " sighed Mr. MacAlister. "I may tell you I've notions of ma own; no bad notionseither. "

"Well, " said the superintendent, moving off, "I'd have enjoyed a crackmyself if it wasna that I've got to be off by this train--"

"Man!" cried his kinsman, "I'm for off by her mysel'! Come on, we'll haeour crack yet. "

The tickets had already been taken and the doors were closed as the tworecrossed the platform. 

"This carriage is empty, " said the superintendent, and threw open thedoor of the same compartment he had almost entered before. 

But it was not empty now. In one of the further corners sat a manwrapped in a dark coloured ulster. A black felt hat was drawn down overhis eyes, and his muffled face was resting on his hand. So much thesuperintendent saw in the brief moment during which he stood at the opendoor, and it struck him at once that the man must be suffering fromtoothache. And then his cousin caught him by the arm and drew him back. 

"Here, man, the carriage next door is empty!" cried he, and thesuperintendent closed the door and followed him. 

It was scarcely more than a minute later when the whistle blew and theywere off, and Mr. MacAlister took out his pipe and prepared himself toreceive official confidences. But the miles went by, and though he pliedhis questions incessantly and skilfully, no confidences wereforthcoming. The superintendent, in fact, had something else to thinkabout. All at once he asked abruptly:

"Robbie, did ye see yon man next door sitting with his face in hishands?"

"Aye, " said Mr. MacAlister, "I noticed the man. "

"Did ye ken who he was?"

"No, " said Mr. MacAlister, "I did not. "

"Had ye seen him on the platform?"

"No, " said Mr. MacAlister, "I had not. "

"I didna see him myself, " said the superintendent musingly. "It seemsfunny-like a man dressed like yon and with his face wrapped up too--anda man forbye that's a stranger to us both, coming along the platformand getting into that carriage, and me not noticing him. I'm not usednot to notice people, Robbie. "

"It's your business, George, " said Mr. MacAlister, and then as he gazedat his cousin's thoughtful face, his own grew suddenly animated. 

"You're not thinking he's to dae wi' the murder, are you!" he cried. 

"I'm not sure what to think till I've had another look into yoncarriage, " said the superintendent cautiously. 

"We're slowing doon the noo!" cried Mr. MacAlister, "God, George, I'llcome and hae a look wi' you!"

The train was hardly in the platform before the superintendent was out, with Mr. MacAlister after him, and the door of the next compartmentwas open almost as soon as the train was at rest. Never had thesuperintendent been more vigilant; and never had his honest facelooked blanker. 

"God! It's empty!" he murmured. 

"God save us!" murmured Mr. MacAlister, and then he was visited by aninspiration which struck his relative afterwards as one of theunhappiest he had ever suffered from. "This canna be the richtcarriage!" he cried. "Come on, Geordie, let's hae a look in the ithers!"

By the time they had looked into all the compartments of the carriage, the guard was waving his flag and the two men climbed hurriedly inagain. The brooding silence of the superintendent infected even Mr. MacAlister, and neither spoke for several minutes. Then thesuperintendent said bitterly:

"It was you hurrying me off to look in thae other carriages, Robbie!"

"What was?" inquired Mr. MacAlister a little nervously. 

"I ought to have stopped and looked under the seats!"

Mr. MacAlister shook his head and declared firmly:

"There was naething under the seats. I could see that fine. And onyhowwe can hae a look at the next stop. "

"As if he'll be waiting for us, now he kens we're looking for him!"

"But there was naething there!" persisted Mr. MacAlister. 

"Then what's come over the man? Here were we sitting next the platform. He can't have got out afore we started, or we'd have seen him. Folksdon't disappear into the air! I'll try under the seats, though I doubtthe man will have been up and out while we were wasting our time in yonother carriages. "

At the next station they searched that mysterious compartment earnestlyand thoroughly, but there was not a sign of the muffled stranger, underthe seats or anywhere else. Again the superintendent was silent for aspace, and then he said confidentially:

"I'm just wondering if it's worth while reporting the thing, Robbie. Thefiscal might have a kin' of unpleasant way of looking at it. Besides, there's really naething to report. Anyhow I'll think it over. And thatbeing the case, the less said the better. I can tell ye all that's knownabout the case, Robbie; knowing that you'll be discreet. "

"Oh, you can trust me, " said Mr. MacAlister earnestly, --"I'll no breathea word o' yon man. Weel, now, you were saying you'd tell me the haillstory. "

By this judicious arrangement Mr. MacAlister got his money's worth ofsensational disclosures, and the superintendent was able to use hisdiscretion and think the incident over. He thought over it very hard andfinally decided that he was demonstrating his vigilance quitesufficiently without mentioning the trifling mystery of the emptycompartment. 

XX

THE SPORTING VISITOR

In summer and autumn, visitors were not uncommon in this remotecountryside; mostly shooting or fishing people who rented the countryhouses, raised the local prices, and were described by the tradesmen asbenefiting the county greatly. But in late autumn and winter thisfertilising stream ceased to flow, and when the trains from the southcrawled in, the porters and the boots from the hotels resignedthemselves to welcoming a merely commercial form of traveller. 

It was therefore with considerable pleasure and surprise that theyobserved one afternoon an unmistakeably sporting gentleman descend froma first class compartment and survey them with a condescending yetaffable eye. 

"Which is the best of these hotels?" he demanded with an amiable smile, as he surveyed through a single eyeglass the names on the caps of thevarious boots. 

His engaging air disarmed the enquiry of embarrassment, and even when hefinally selected the Kings Arms Hotel, the other boots merely feltregret that they had not secured so promising a client. His luggageconfirmed the first favourable impression. It included a gun case, abag of golf clubs, and one or two handsome leather articles. Evidentlyhe meant to make more than a passing visit, and as he strolled down theplatform, his leisurely nonchalant air and something even in the way inwhich he smoked his cigarette in its amber holder, suggested a gentlemanwho, having arrived here, was in no hurry to move on. On a luggage labelthe approving boots noted the name of "F. T. Carrington. "

When he arrived at the Kings Arms, Mr. Carrington continued to producefavourable impressions. He was a young man, apparently a little overthirty, above middle height, with a round, ingenuous, very agreeableface, smooth fair hair, a little, neatly trimmed moustache, and amonocle that lent just the necessary touch of distinction to what mightotherwise have been a too good-humoured physiognomy. His tweed suit wasfashionably cut and of a distinctly sportive pattern, and he wore a pairof light spats. In short, there could be no mistaking him for anythingbut a gentleman of position and leisure with strong sportingproclivities, and his manner amply confirmed this. It was in fact almostindolent in its leisurely ease. 

Miss Peterkin, the capable manageress of the Kings Arms, was atfirst disposed to think Mr. Carrington a trifle too superior, and, as she termed it, "la-de-da, " but a very few minutes' conversationwith the gentleman completely reassured her. He was so polite and sogood-humoured and so ready to be pleased with everything he saw andanything she suggested, that they became firm friends within ten minutesof his arrival, and after Mr. Carrington had disposed of his luggage inthe bedroom and private sitting room which he engaged, and partaken of alittle dinner, she found herself welcoming him into her own sitting roomwhere a few choice spirits nightly congregated. 

It is true that these spirits, though choice, were hardly of what shecalled Mr. Carrington's "class, " but then in all her experience she hadnever met a gentleman of such fashion and such a superior air, whoadapted himself so charmingly to any society. In fact, "charming" wasthe very adjective for him, she decided. 

About his own business he was perfectly frank. He had heard of thesporting possibilities of the county and had come to look out for a bitof fishing or shooting; preferably fishing, for it seemed he was anenthusiastic angler. Of course, it was too late in the season for anyfishing this year, but he was looking ahead as he preferred to seethings for himself instead of trusting to an agent's description. He hadbrought his gun just on the chance of getting a day somewhere, and hisclub in case there happened to be a golf links. In short, he seemedevidently to be a young man of means who lived for sport; and what otherquestion could one ask about such a satisfactory type of visitor?Absolutely none, in Miss Peterkin's opinion. 

As a matter of fact, she found very early in the evening, and continuedto find thereafter, that the most engaging feature of Mr. Carrington'scharacter was the interest he took in other people's business, so thatthe conversation very quickly strayed away from his own concerns--andremained away. It was not that he showed any undue curiosity; far fromit. He was simply so sympathetic and such a good listener and putquestions that showed he was following everything you said to him in away that really very few people did. And, moreover, in spite of hisengaging frankness, there was an indefinable air of discretion about himthat made one feel safe to tell him practically everything. She herselftold him the sad story of her brother in Australia (a tale which, as arule, she told only to her special intimates) before he had been in herroom half an hour. 

But with the arrival of three or four choice spirits, the conversationbecame more general, and it was naturally not long before it turned onthe greatest local sensation and mystery within the memory of man--theCromarty murder. Mr. Carrington's surprise was extreme when he realisedthat he was actually in the county where the tragedy had occurred, within a very few miles of the actual spot, in fact. Of course, he hadread about it in the papers, but only cursorily, it seemed, and he hadno idea he was coming into the identical district that had acquired sucha sinister notoriety. 

"By Jove!" he exclaimed more than once when he had made this discovery, "I say, how interesting!"

"Oh, " said Miss Peterkin with becoming pride, "we are getting quitefamous, I can assure you, Mr. Carrington. "

"Rather so!" cried he, "I've read quite a lot about this Carnegiecase----"

"Cromarty, " corrected one of the spirits. 

"Cromarty, of course, I mean! I'm rather an ass at names, I'm afraid. "The young man smiled brightly and all the spirits sympathised. "Oh yes, I've seen it reported in the papers. And now to think here I am in themiddle of it, by George! How awfully interesting! I say, Miss Peterkin, what about these gentlemen having another wee droppie with me, allround, just to celebrate the occasion?"

With such an appreciative and hospitable audience, Miss Peterkin and thechoice spirits spent a long and delightful evening in retailing everyknown circumstance of the drama, and several that were certainly unknownto the authorities. He was vastly interested, though naturally veryshocked, to hear who was commonly suspected of the crime. 

"Do you mean to say his own heir--and a young girl like that----? ByJove, I say, how dreadful!" he exclaimed, and, in fact, he would hardlybelieve such a thing conceivable until all the choice spirits in turnhad assured him that there was practically no doubt about it. 

The energetic part played by Mr. Simon Rattar in unravelling the darkskein, or at least in trying to, was naturally described at some length, and Mr. Carrington showed his usual sympathetic, and, one might almostsay, entranced appreciation of the many facts told him concerning thatlocal celebrity. 

Finally Miss Peterkin insisted on getting out the back numbers of thelocal paper giving the full details of the case, and with many thanks hetook these off to read before he went to bed. 

"But mind you don't give yourself the creeps and keep yourself fromgoing to sleep, Mr. Carrington!" she warned him with the last words. 

"By Jove, that's an awful thought!" he exclaimed, and then his eyestwinkled. "Send me up another whisky and soda to cure the creeps!" saidhe. 

Miss Peterkin thought he was quite one of the pleasantest, and promisedto be one of the most profitable gentlemen she had met for a very longtime. 

Next morning he assured her he had kept the creeps at bay sufficientlyto enjoy an excellent night's sleep in a bed that did the managementcredit. In fact, he had thoroughly enjoyed reading the mystery and hadeven begun to feel some curiosity to see the scene of the tragedy. Heproposed to have a few walks and drives through the neighbouringcountry, he said, looking at its streams and lochs with an eye tosporting possibilities, and it would be interesting to be able torecognise Keldale House if he chanced to pass near it. 

Miss Peterkin told him which road led to Keldale and how the house mightbe recognised, and suggested that he should walk out that way this verymorning. He seemed a little doubtful; spoke of his movements as thingsthat depended very much on the whim of the moment, just as such aneasy-going young man would be apt to do, and rather indicated that ashorter walk would suit him better that morning. 

And then a few minutes later she saw him saunter past her window, wearing a light gray felt hat at a graceful angle and apparently takinga sympathetic interest in a small boy trying to mount a bicycle. 

XXI

MR. CARRINGTON'S WALK

Mr. Carrington's easy saunter lasted till he had turned out of thestreet on which the Kings Arms stood, when it passed into an easy walk. Though he had seemed, on the whole, disinclined to go in the Keldaledirection that morning, nevertheless he continued to head that way tillat last he was on the high road with the little town behind him; andthen his pace altered again. He stepped out now like the sportsman hewas, and was doing a good four miles an hour by the time he was out ofsight of the last houses. 

For a man who had come out to gather ideas as to the sportingpossibilities of the country, Mr. Carrington seemed to pay singularlylittle attention to his surroundings. He appeared, in fact, to bethinking about something else all the time, and the first sign ofinterest he showed in anything outside his thoughts was when he foundhimself within sight of the lodge gates of Keldale House, with theavenue sweeping away from the road towards the roofs and chimneys amidthe trees. At the sight of this he stopped, and leaning over the lowwall at the road side gazed with much interest at the scene of thetragedy he had heard so much of last night. The choice spirits, hadthey been there to see, would have been gratified to find that theirgraphic narratives had sent this indolent looking gentleman to view thespot so swiftly. 

From the house and grounds his eye travelled back to the road and thensurveyed the surrounding country very attentively. He even stood on topof the wall to get a wider view; and then all of a sudden he jumped downagain and adopted the reverse procedure, bending now so that little morethan his head appeared above the wall. And the reason for this change ofplan appeared to be a figure which had emerged from the trees and beganto move along a path between the fields. 

Mr. Carrington studied this figure with concentrated attention, and asit drew nearer and became more distinct, a light leapt into his eye thatgave him a somewhat different expression from any his acquaintances oflast night had observed. He saw that the path followed a small streamand ran at an angle to the high road, joining it at last at a point somelittle distance back towards the town. He looked quickly up and down theroad. Not a soul was in sight to see his next very curious performance. The leisurely Mr. Carrington crossed to the further side, where he wasinvisible from the path, and then set out to run at a rapid pace till hereached the junction of path and road. And then he turned down the path. 

But now his bearing altered again in a very extraordinary way. His gaitfell once more to a saunter and his angling enthusiasm seemed suddenlyto have returned, for he frequently studied the burn as he strolledalong, and there was no sign of any thoughtfulness on his ingenuouscountenance. There were a few willows beside the path, and the pathitself meandered, and this was doubtless the reason why he appearedentirely unconscious of the approach of another foot passenger till theywere within a few yards of one another. And then Mr. Carrington stoppedsuddenly, seemed to hesitate, pulled out his watch and glanced at it, and then with an apologetic air raised his hat. 

The other foot passenger was face to face with him now, a slim figure inblack, with a sweet, serious face. 

"Excuse me, " said Mr. Carrington, "but can you tell me where this pathleads?"

He was so polite and so evidently anxious to give no offence, and hisface was such a certificate to his amiable character that the girlstopped too and answered without hesitation:

"It leads to Keldale House. "

"Keldale House?" he repeated, and then the idea seemed to arouseassociations. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Really? I'm an utter strangerhere, but isn't that the place where the murder took place?"

Had Mr. Carrington been a really observant man, one would think he wouldhave noticed the sudden change of expression in the girl's face--as ifhe had aroused painful thoughts. He did seem to look at her for aninstant as he asked the question, but then turned his gaze towards thedistant glimpse of the house. 

"Yes, " she murmured and looked as though she wanted to pass on; but Mr. Carrington seemed so excited by his discovery that he never noticed thisand still stood right in her path. 

"How very interesting!" he murmured. "By Jove, how very interesting!"And then with the air of passing on a still more interesting piece ofnews, he said suddenly, "I hear they have arrested Sir MalcolmCromarty. "

This time he kept his monocle full on her. 

"Arrested him!" she cried. "What for?"

This question, put with the most palpable wonder, seemed to disconcertMr. Carrington considerably. He even hesitated in a very unusual way forhim. 

"For--for the murder, of course. "

Her eyes opened very wide. 

"For Sir Reginald's murder? How ridiculous!"

Again Mr. Carrington seemed a little disconcerted. 

"Er--why is it ridiculous?" he asked. "Of course, I--I know nothingabout the gentleman. "

"Evidently!" she agreed with reproach in her eyes. "If Sir Malcolmreally has been arrested, it can only have been for something quitesilly. He couldn't commit a murder!"

The fact that this tribute to the baronet's innocence was not whollydevoid of a flavour of criticism seemed to strike Mr. Carrington, forhis eye twinkled for an instant. 

"You are acquainted with him then?" said he. 

"I am staying at Keldale; in fact, I am a relation. "

There was no doubt of her intention to rebuke the too garrulousgentleman by this information, and it succeeded completely. He passed atonce to the extreme of apology. 

"Oh! I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea. Really, I hopeyou will accept my apologies, Miss--er--Cromarty. "

"Miss Farmond, " she corrected. 

"Miss Farmond, I mean. It was frightfully tactless of me!"

He said it so nicely and looked so innocently guilty and so contrite, that her look lost its touch of indignation. 

"I still can't understand what you mean about Sir Malcolm beingarrested, " she said. "How did you hear?"

"Oh, I was very likely misinformed. An old fellow at the hotel lastnight was saying so. "

Her eye began to grow indignant again. 

"What old fellow?"

"Red hair, shaky knees, bit of a stammer, answers to the name of Sandy, I believe. "

"Old Sandy Donaldson!" she exclaimed. "That drunken old thing! He wassimply talking nonsense as usual!"

"He seemed a little in liquor, " he admitted, "but you see I am a merestranger. I didn't realise what a loose authority I quoted. There isnothing in the report, I am certain. And this path leads only to KeldaleHouse? Thank you very much. Good morning!"

How Mr. Carrington had obtained this erroneous information from a personwhose back he had merely seen for a couple of minutes the night before, as the reprobate in question was being ejected from the Kings Arms, hedid not stop to explain. In fact, at this point he showed no inclinationto continue the conversation, but bowing very politely, continued hisstroll. 

But the effect of the conversation on him remained, and a very markedeffect it appeared to be. He took no interest in the burn any longer, but paced slowly on, his eyes sometimes on the path and sometimesstaring upwards at the Heavens. So far as his face revealed hissensations, they seemed to be compounded of surprise and perplexity. Several times he shook his head as though some very baffling point hadcropped up in his thoughts, and once he murmured:

"I'm damned!"

When the path reached the policies of the house, he stopped and seemedto take some interest in his surroundings once more. For a moment it wasclear that he was tempted to enter the plantations, and then he shookhis head and turned back. 

All the way home he remained immersed in thought and only recovered hisnonchalant air as he entered the door of the Kings Arms. He was the sameeasy-going, smiling young man of fashion as he passed the time of daywith Miss Peterkin; but when he had shut the door of his private sittingroom and dropped into an easy chair over the fire, he again became soabsorbed in thought that he had to be reminded that the hour of luncheonhad passed. 

Thought seemed to vanish during lunch, but when he had retired to hisroom again, it returned for another half hour. At the end of that timehe apparently came to a decision, and jumping up briskly, repaired tothe manageress' room. And when Miss Peterkin was taken into hisconfidence, it appeared that the whole problem had merely concerned thequestion of taking either a shooting or a fishing for next season. 

"I have been thinking, " said he, "that my best plan will perhaps be tocall upon Mr. Simon Rattar and see whether he knows of anything to let. I gather that he is agent for several estates in the county. What do youadvise?"

Miss Peterkin decidedly advised this course, so a few minutes later Mr. Carrington strolled off towards the lawyer's office. 

XXII

MR. CARRINGTON AND THE FISCAL

The card handed in to Mr. Simon Rattar contained merely the name "Mr. F. T. Carrington" and the address "Sports Club. " Simon gazed at itcautiously and in silence for the better part of a minute, and when heglanced up at his head clerk to tell him that Mr. Carrington might beadmitted, Mr. Ison was struck by the curious glint in his eye. It seemedto him to indicate that the fiscal was very wide awake at that moment;it struck him also that Mr. Rattar was not altogether surprised by theappearance of this visitor. 

The agreeable stranger began by explaining very frankly that he thoughtof renting a place for next season where he could secure good fishingand a little shooting, and wondered if any of the properties Mr. Rattarwas agent for would suit him. Simon grunted and waited for this overtureto develop. 

"What about Keldale House?" the sporting visitor suggested. "That's theplace where the murder was committed, isn't it?" and then he laughed. "Your eye betrays you, Mr. Rattar!" said he. 

The lawyer seemed to start ever so slightly. 

"Indeed?" he murmured. 

"Look here, " said Carrington with a candid smile, "let's put our cardson the table. You know my business?"

"Are you a detective?" asked the lawyer. 

Mr. Carrington smiled and nodded. 

"I am; or rather I prefer to call myself a private enquiry agent. Peopleexpect so much of a detective, don't they?"

Simon grunted, but made no other comment. 

"In a case like this, " continued Carrington, "when one is called inweeks too late and the household broom and scrubbing brush and gardenrake have removed most of the possible clues, and witnesses'recollections have developed into picturesque legends, it is better torouse as few expectations as possible, since it is probably impossibleto find anything out. However, in the capacity of a mere enquiry agent Ihave come to pick up anything I can. May I smoke?"

He asked in his usual easy-going voice and with his usual candid smile, and then his eye was arrested by an inscription printed in capitalletters, and hung in a handsome frame upon the office wall. It ran:

 "MY THREE RULES OF LIFE, "1. I DO NOT SMOKE. 2. I LAY BY A THIRD OF MY INCOME. 3. I NEVER RIDE WHEN I CAN WALK. "

Beneath these precepts appeared the lithographed signature of an eminentphilanthropist, but it seemed reasonable to assume that they also formedthe guiding maxims of Mr. Simon Rattar. 

His visitor politely apologised for his question. 

"I had not noticed this warning, " said he. 

"Smoke if you like. My clients sometimes do. I don't myself, " said thelawyer. 

His visitor thanked him, placed a cigarette in his amber holder, lit it, and let his eyes follow the smoke upwards. 

Mr. Rattar, on his part, seemed in his closest, most taciturn humour. His grunt and his nod had, in fact, seldom formed a greater proportionof his conversation. He made no further comment at all now, but waitedin silence for his visitor to proceed. 

"Well, " resumed Carrington, "the simple facts of the case are these. Ihave been engaged through a certain firm of London lawyers, whose name Iam not permitted to mention, on behalf of a person whose name I don'tknow. "

At this a flash of keen interest showed for an instant in Simon's eye;and then it became as cold as ever again. 

"Indeed?" said he. 

"I am allowed to incur expense, " continued the other, "up to a certainfigure, which is so handsome that it gives me practically a free hand, so far as that is concerned. On the other hand, the arrangement entailscertain difficulties which I daresay you, Mr. Rattar, as a lawyer, andespecially as a Procurator Fiscal accustomed to investigate cases ofcrime, will readily understand. "

"Quite so; quite so, " agreed Mr. Rattar, who seemed to be distinctlyrelaxing already from his guarded attitude. 

"I arrived last night, put up at the Kings Arms--where I gatheredbeforehand that the local gossip could best be collected, and in thecourse of the evening I collected enough to hang at least two people;and in the course of a few more evenings I shall probably have enough tohang half a dozen--if one can believe, say, a twentieth of what onehears. This morning I strolled out to Keldale House and had a look at itfrom the road, and I learned that it was a large mansion standing amongtrees. That's all I have been able to do so far. "

"Nothing more than that?"

Mr. Carrington seemed to have a singularly short memory. 

"I think that's the lot, " said he. "And what is more, it seems to me thesum total of all I am likely to do without a little assistance fromsomebody in possession of rather more authentic facts than my friendMiss Peterkin and her visitors. "

"I quite understand, " said the lawyer; and it was plain that hisinterest was now thoroughly enlisted. 

"Well, " continued Mr. Carrington, "I thought things over, and rightly orwrongly, I came to this decision. My employer, whoever he is, has madeit an absolute condition that his name is not to be known. His reasonsmay have been the best imaginable, but it obviously made it impossiblefor me to get any information out of _him_. For my own reasons I alwaysprefer to make my enquiries in these cases in the guise of anunsuspected outsider, whenever it is possible; and it happens to beparticularly possible in this case, since nobody here knows me fromAdam. But I must get facts--as distinguished from the Kings Arms'gossip, and how was I to get them without giving myself away? That wasthe problem, and I soon realised that it was insoluble. I saw I mustconfide in somebody, and so I came to the decision to confide in you. "

Simon nodded and made a sound that seemed to indicate distinctly hisopinion that Mr. Carrington had come to a sensible decision. 

"You were the obvious person for several reasons, " resumed Carrington. "In the first place you could pretty safely be regarded as abovesuspicion yourself--if you will pardon my associating even the wordsuspicion with a Procurator Fiscal. " He smiled his most agreeable smileand the Fiscal allowed his features to relax sympathetically. "In thesecond place you know more about the case than anybody else. And in thethird place, I gather that you are--if I may say so, a gentleman ofunusual discretion. "

Again he smiled pleasantly, and again Mr. Rattar's features relaxed. 

"Finally, " added Carrington, "I thought it long odds that you wereeither actually my employer or acting for him, and therefore I shouldbe giving nothing away by telling you my business. And when I mentionedKeldale House and the murder I saw that I was right!"

He laughed, and Simon permitted himself to smile. Yet his answer was ascautious as ever. 

"Well, Mr. Carrington?" said he. 

"Well, " said Carrington, "if you actually are my employer and we bothlay our cards on the table, there's much to be gained, and--if I may sayso--really nothing to be lost. I won't give you away if you won't giveme. "

The lawyer's nod seemed to imply emphatic assent, and the other went on:

"I'll keep you informed of everything I'm doing and anything I mayhappen to discover, and you can give me very valuable information as towhat precisely is known already. Otherwise, of course, one could hardlyexchange confidences so freely. Frankly then, you engaged me to comedown here?"

Even then Simon's caution seemed to linger for an instant. The next heanswered briefly but decidedly:

"Yes. "

"Very well, now to business. I got a certain amount of literature on thecase before I left town, and Miss Peterkin gave me some very valuableadditions in the shape of the accounts in the local papers. Are thereany facts known to you or the police beyond those I have read?"

Simon considered the question and then shook his head. 

"None that I can think of, and I fear the local police will be able toadd no information that can assist you. "

"They are the usual not too intelligent country bobbies, I suppose?"

"Quite so, " said Simon. 

"In that case, " asked Mr. Carrington, still in his easy voice, but witha quick turn of his eyeglass towards the lawyer, "why was no outsideassistance called in at once?"

For a moment Simon Rattar's satisfaction with his visitor seemed to bediminished. He seemed, in fact, a little disconcerted, and his replyagain became little more than a grunt. 

"Quite satisfied with them, " seemed to be the reading of his answer. 

"Well, " said Carrington, "no doubt you knew best, Mr. Rattar. "

His eyes thoughtfully followed the smoke of his cigarette upwards for amoment, and then he said:

"That being so, my first step had better be to visit Keldale House andsee whether it is still possible to find any small point the localprofessionals have overlooked. "

Mr. Rattar seemed to disapprove of this. 

"Nothing to discover, " said he. "And they will know what you have comeabout. "

Mr. Carrington smiled. 

"I think, Mr. Rattar, that, on the whole, my appearance provokes nogreat amount of suspicion. "

"Your appearance, no, " admitted Simon, "but--"

"Well, if I go to Keldale armed with a card of introduction from you, tomake enquiry about the shootings, I think I can undertake to turn theconversation on to other matters without exciting suspicion. "

"Conversation with whom?" enquired the lawyer sceptically. 

"I had thought of Mr. Bisset, the butler. "

"Oh--" began Mr. Rattar with a note of surprise, and then pulled himselfup. 

"Yes, " smiled Mr. Carrington, "I have picked up a little about thehousehold. My friends of last night were exceedingly communicative--verygossipy indeed. I rather gather that omniscience is Mr. Bisset's foible, and that he is not averse from conversation. "

The look in Simon's eye seemed to indicate that his respect for thiseasy-going young man was increasing; though whether his liking for himwas also increased thereby was not so manifest. His reply was again amere grunt. 

"Well, that can easily be arranged, " said Carrington, "and it isobviously the first thing to do. "

He blew a ring of smoke from his lips, skilfully sent a second ring inchase of it, and then turning his monocle again on the lawyer, enquired(though not in a tone that seemed to indicate any very acute interest inthe question):

"Who do you think yourself murdered Sir Reginald Cromarty?"

XXIII

SIMON'S VIEWS

"Well, " said Mr. Rattar deliberately, "I think myself that the actualevidence is very slight and extremely inclusive. "

"You mean the direct evidence afforded by the unfastened window, position of the body, table said to have been overturned, and so forth?"

"Exactly. That evidence is slight, but so far as it goes it seems to meto point to entry by the door and to the man having been in the housefor some little time previously. "

"Well?" said Carrington in an encouraging voice. 

"So much for the direct evidence. I may be wrong, but that is my decidedopinion. No bad characters are known to the police to have been in thecounty at that time, and there was no robbery. "

"Apparently confirming the direct evidence?"

"Decidedly confirming it--or so it seems to me. "

"Then you think there is something in the popular theory that thepresent baronet and Miss Farmond were the guilty parties?"

Simon was silent for a moment, but his face was unusually expressive. 

"I fear it looks like it. "

"An unpleasant conclusion for you to come to, " observed Mr. Carrington. "You are the family lawyer, I understand. "

"Very unpleasant, " Mr. Rattar agreed. "But, of course, there is noabsolute proof. "

"Naturally; or they'd have been arrested by now. What sort of a fellowis Sir Malcolm?"

"My own experience of him, " said the lawyer drily, "is chiefly confinedto his visits to my office to borrow money of me. "

"Indeed?" said Carrington with interest. "That sort of fellow, is he? Hewrites, I understand. "

Simon nodded. 

"Any other known vices?"

"I know little about his vices except that they cost him considerablymore than he could possibly have paid, had it not been for SirReginald's death. "

"So the motive is plain enough. Any evidence against him?"

Simon pursed his lips and became exceedingly grave. 

"When questioned next morning by the superintendent of police andmyself, he led us to understand that he had retired to bed early and wasin no position to hear or notice anything. I have since found that hewas in the habit of sitting up late. "

"'In the habit, '" repeated Carrington quickly. "But you don't suggesthe sat up that night in particular?"

"Undoubtedly he sat up that night. "

"But merely as he always did?"

"He might have been waiting for his chance on the previous nights. "

Carrington smoked thoughtfully for a moment and then asked:

"But there is no evidence that he left his room or was heard movingabout that night, is there?"

"There is not yet any positive evidence. But he was obviously in aposition to do so. "

"Was his room near or over the library?"

"N--no, " said the fiscal, and there seemed to be a hint of reluctance inhis voice. 

Carrington glanced at him quickly and then gazed up at the ceiling. 

"What sort of a girl is Miss Farmond?" he enquired next. 

"She is the illegitimate daughter of a brother of the late SirReginald's. "

Carrington nodded. 

"So I gathered from the local gossips. But that fact is hardly againsther, is it?"

"Why not?"

Carrington looked a little surprised. 

"Girls don't generally murder their uncles for choice, in my ownexperience; especially if they are also their benefactors. "

"This was hardly the usual relationship, " said the lawyer with a touchof significance. 

"Do you suggest that the irregularity is apt to breed crime?"

Simon's grunt seemed to signify considerable doubt as to the morals ofthe type of relative. 

"But what sort of girl is she otherwise?"

"I should call Miss Farmond the insinuating type. A young man likeyourself would probably find her very attractive--at first anyhow. "

Mr. Carrington seemed to ponder for a moment on this suggestivedescription of Miss Farmond's allurements. And then he asked:

"Is it the case that she is engaged to Sir Malcolm?"

"Certainly. "

"You are sure?"

Something in his voice seemed to make the lawyer reflect. 

"Is it called in question?" he asked. 

Carrington shook his head. 

"By nobody who has spoken to me on the subject. But I understand that ithas not yet been announced. "

"No, " said Simon. "It was a secret engagement; and marriage would havebeen impossible while Sir Reginald lived. "

"So there we get the motive on her part. And you yourself, Mr. Rattar, _know_ both these young people, and you believe that this accusationagainst them is probably well founded?"

"I believe, Mr. Carrington, that there is no proof and probably neverwill be any; but all the evidence, positive and negative, together withthe question of motive, points to nobody else. What alternative ispossible?"

"That is the difficulty, so far, " agreed Carrington, but his thoughts atthe moment seemed to be following his smoke rings up towards theceiling. For a few moments he was silent, and then he asked:

"What other people benefited by the will and to what extent?"

The lawyer went to his safe, brought out the will, and read through thelegacies to the servants, mentioning that the chauffeur and gardenerwere excluded by circumstances from suspicion. 

"That leaves Mr. Bisset, " observed Carrington. "Well, I shall be seeinghim to-morrow. Any other legatees who might conceivably have committedthe crime?"

Simon looked serious and spoke with a little reluctance that he seemedto make no effort to conceal. 

"There is a relative of the family, a Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland, whocertainly benefited considerably by the will and who certainly lives inthe neighbourhood--if one once admitted the possibility of the crimebeing committed by some one outside the house. And I admit that it is apossibility. "

"Ah!" said Carrington. "I heard about him last night, but so farsuspicion certainly hasn't fastened on him. What sort of a fellow ishe?"

"He has lived the greater part of his life in the wilder parts ofAmerica--rather what one might call a rough and ready customer. "

It was apparent that Mr. Carrington, for all his easy-going air, wasextremely interested. 

"This is quite interesting!" he murmured. "To what extent did he benefitby the will?"

"£1, 200. "

"£1, 200!" Carrington repeated the words with an odd intonation andstared very hard at the lawyer. There was no doubt that his interest washighly excited now, and yet it seemed to be rather a different qualityof interest this time. 

"A considerable sum, " said Simon. 

"That is the only point about it which strikes you?"

Simon was manifestly puzzled. 

"What else?" he enquired. 

"No coincidence occurs to you?"

The lawyer's puzzled look remained, and the next instant Carringtonbroke into a hearty laugh. 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Rattar, " he cried. "What an owl I am! I havejust been dealing lately with a case where that sum of money wasinvolved, and for the moment I mixed the two up together!" He laughedagain, and then resuming his businesslike air, asked: "Now, what elseabout this Mr. Cromarty? You say he is a relation. Near or distant?"

"Oh, quite distant. Another branch altogether. "

"Younger branch, I presume. "

"Poorer but not younger. He is said to be the head of the family. "

"Really!" exclaimed Mr. Carrington, and this information seemed to haveset him thinking again. "He is the head of the family, and I hear hetook up the case with some energy. "

Simon's grunt seemed to be critical. 

"He got in our way, " he said. 

"Got in your way, did he?"

Carrington was silent for a few moments, and then said:

"Well I am afraid I have taken up a great deal of your time. May I havea line of introduction to Mr. Bisset before I go?"

While the line was being written he walked over to the fire and clearedthe stump of his last cigarette out of the holder. This operation wasvery deliberately performed, and through it his eyes seemed scarcely tonote what his hands were doing. 

He put the note in his pocket, shook hands, and then, just as he wasgoing, he said:

"I want to understand the lie of the land as exactly as possible. Yourown attitude, so far has been, I take it--no proof, therefore no arrest;but a nasty family scandal left festering, so you decided to call me in. Now, I want to know this--is there anybody else in the neighbourhood whoknows that I have been sent for?"

Mr. Rattar replied with even more than his usual deliberation, and afterwhat is said by foreigners to be the national habit, his replyconsisted of another question. 

"You say that your employer made a particular point of having hisidentity concealed?"

"Yes, a particular point. "

"Doesn't that answer your question, Mr. Carrington?"

"No, " said Carrington, "not in the least. I am asking now whether thereis any other employer in this neighbourhood besides yourself. And I maysay that I ask for the very good reason that it might be awkward for meif there were and I didn't know him, while if I did know him, I couldconsult with him if it happened to be advisable. Is there any one?"

He seemed to hang on the lawyer's answer, and Simon to dislike makingthe answer. 

Yet when he did make it, it was quite emphatic. 

"No, " he replied. 

"That's all right then, " said Mr. Carrington with his brightest smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Rattar. "

The smile faded from his ingenuous face the moment the door had closedbehind him, and it was a very thoughtful Mr. Carrington who slowly wentdownstairs and strolled along the pavement. If his morning's interviewhad puzzled him, his afternoon's interview seemed to have baffled himcompletely. He even forgot to relapse into the thoughtless youngsportsman when he entered the hotel, and his friend the manageress, after eyeing him with great surprise, cried archly:

"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. Carrington! About shooting or fishing, I'm sure!"

Mr. Carrington recovered his pleasant spirits instantly. 

"Quite right, " said he. "I was thinking about fishing--in very deepwaters. "

XXIV

MR. BISSET'S ASSISTANT

At eleven o'clock next morning a motor car drove up to Keldale House andan exceedingly affable and pleasing stranger delivered a note from Mr. Simon Rattar to Mr. James Bisset. Even without an introduction, Mr. Carrington would have been welcome, for though Mr. Bisset's sway overKeldale House was by this time almost despotic, he had begun to findthat despotism has its lonely side, and to miss "the gentry. " With anintroduction, Mr. Carrington quickly discovered that Mr. Bisset and themansion he supervised were alike entirely at his disposal. 

The preliminary discussion on the sporting possibilities of the estateand the probability of its being let next season impressed Mr. Bissetvery favourably indeed with his visitor; and then when the conversationhad passed very naturally to the late tragedy in the house, he was stillfurther delighted to find that Mr. Carrington not only shared his owndetective enthusiasm, but was vastly interested in his views on thisparticular mystery. 

"Come along here, sir, " said he, "we can just have a look at thelibrary and I'll explain to you the principles of the thing. "

"I'd like to see the actual scene of the crime immensely!" cried Mr. Carrington eagerly. "You are sure that Lady Cromarty won't object?"

"Not her, " said Bisset. "She's never in this part of the house now. She'll be none the wiser anyhow. "

This argument seemed to assure Mr. Carrington completely, and they wentalong to the library. 

"Now, " began Bisset, "I'll just explain to you the haill situation. Herewhere I'm laying this sofie cushion was the corp. Here where I'mstanding the now was the wee table, and yon's the table itself. "

To the disquisition that followed, Mr. Carrington listened with the mostintelligent air. Bisset had by this time evolved quite a number of newtheories, but the one feature common to them all was the hypothesis thatthe murderer must have come in by the window and was certainly not aninmate of the household. His visitor said little till he had finished, and then he remarked:

"Well, Bisset, you don't seem to put much faith in the current theory, Isee. "

"Meaning that Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond were concerned?" said Bissetindignantly. "That's just the ignorance of the uneducated masses, sir!The thing's physically impossible, as I've just been demonstrating!"

Carrington smiled and gently shook his head. 

"I don't know much about these things, " said he, "but I'm afraid I can'tsee the physical impossibility. It was very easy for any one in thehouse to come downstairs and open that door, and if Sir Reginald knewhim, it would account for his silence and the absence of any kind of astruggle. "

"But yon table and the windie being unfastened! And the mud I picked upmyself--and the hearth brush!"

"They scarcely make it impossible, " said Carrington. 

"Well, sir, " demanded the butler, "what's your own theory?"

Carrington said nothing for several minutes. He strolled up and down theroom, looked at the table and the window, and at last asked:

"Do you remember quite distinctly what Sir Reginald looked like when youfound him--the position of the body--condition of the clothes--andeverything else?"

"I see him lying there every night o' my life, just as plain as I seeyou now!"

"The feet were towards the door, just as though he had been facing thedoor when he was struck down?"

"Aye, but then my view is the body was moved----"

He was interrupted by a curious performance on Mr. Carrington's part. His visitor was in fact stretching himself out on the floor on the spotwhere Sir Reginald was found. 

"He lay like this?" he asked. 

"Aye, practically just like that, sir. "

"Now, Bisset, " said the recumbent visitor, "just have a very good lookat me and tell me if you notice any difference between me and the bodyof Sir Reginald. "

Bisset looked for a few seconds and then exclaimed:

"Your clothes are no alike! The master's coat was kind of pulled up likeabout his shoulders and neck. Oh, and I mind now the tag at the back forhanging it up was broken and sticking out. "

Carrington sprang to his feet with a gleam in his eye. 

"The tag was not broken before he put on the coat?"

"It certainly was not that! But what's your deduction, sir?"

Carrington smiled at him. 

"What do you think yourself, Bisset? You saw how I threw myself downquite carelessly and yet my coat wasn't pulled up like that. "

"God, sir!" cried the butler. "You mean the corp had been pulled alongthe floor by the shoulders!"

Carrington nodded. 

"Then he had been killed near the windie!"

"Not too fast, not too fast!" smiled Carrington. "Your own firststatement which I happened to read in a back number of the newspaperthe other day said that the windows were all fastened when Sir Reginaldcame into the room. "

"Ah, but I've been altering my opinion on that point, sir. "

Carrington shook his head. 

"I'm afraid because a fastened window doesn't suit your theory. "

"But the master might have opened it to him, thinking it was some one heknew. "

"Sounds improbable, " said Carrington thoughtfully. 

"But not just absolutely impossible. "

"No, " said Carrington, still very thoughtfully, "not impossible. "

"Sir Reginald might never have seen it was a stranger till the man wasfairly inside. "

Carrington smiled and shook his head. 

"Thin, Bisset; very thin. Why need the man have been a stranger at all?"

Bisset's face fell. 

"But surely you're not believing yon story that it was Sir Malcolm andMiss Farmond after a'?"

His visitor stood absolutely silent for a full minute. Then he seemedsuddenly to banish the line of thought he was following. 

"Is it quite certain that those two are engaged?" he asked. 

Bisset's face showed his surprise at the question. 

"They all say so, " said he. 

"Have either of them admitted it?"

"No, sir. "

"Why don't they acknowledge it now and get married?"

"They say it's because they daurna for fear of the scandal. "

"'They' say again!" commented Carrington. "But, look here, Bisset, youhave been in the house all the time. Did you think they were engaged?"

"Honestly, sir, I did not. There's nae doubt Sir Malcolm was sweet onthe young lady, but deil a sign of sweetness on him did I ever see inher!"

"Do they correspond now?"

Bisset shook his head. 

"Hardly at a'. But of course folks just say they are feared to now. "

"Has anybody asked either of them if they are--or ever were--engaged?"

"No, sir. But if they denied it now, folks would just say the samething. "

"Yes. I see--naturally. Lady Cromarty believes it and is keeping MissFarmond under her eye, the gossips tell me. Is that so?"

"Oh, that's true right enough, sir. "

"Who told Lady Cromarty?"

"That I do not know, sir. "

Again the visitor seemed to be thinking, and again to cast his thoughtsaside and take up a new aspect of the case. 

"Supposing, " he suggested, "we were to draw the curtains and light thesecandles for a few minutes? It might help us to realise the wholething. "

This suggestion pleased Mr. Bisset greatly and in a minute or two thecandles were lit and the curtains drawn. 

"Put the table where it stood, " said Carrington. "Now which was SirReginald's chair? This?"

He sat in it and looked slowly round the darkened, candle-lit library. 

"Now, " said he, "suppose I was Sir Reginald, and there came a tap atthat window, what would I do?"

"If you were the master, sir, you'd go straight to the windie to see whoit was. "

"I wouldn't get in a funk and ring the bell?"

"No fears!" said Bisset confidently. 

"And any one who knew Sir Reginald at all well could count on his notgiving the alarm then if they tapped at the window?"

"They could that. "

Carrington looked attentively towards the window. 

"Those curtains hang close against the window, I see, " he observed. "Avery slight gap in them would enable any one to get a good view of theroom, if the blinds were not down. Were the blinds down that night?"

Bisset slapped his knee. 

"The middle blind wasn't working!" he cried. "What a fool I've been notto think on the extraordinar' significance of that fac'! My, thedeductions to be drawn! You've made it quite clear now, sir. The mantappit at that windie----"

"Steady, steady!" said Carrington, smiling and yet seriously. "Don't yougo announcing that theory! If there's anything in it--mum's the word!But mind you, Bisset, it's only a bare possibility. There's no goodevidence against the door theory yet. "

"Not the table being cowpit and the body moved?"

"They might be explained. "

He was thoughtful for a moment and then said deliberately:

"I want--I mean you want certain evidence to exclude the door theory. Without that, the window theory remains a guess. Sir Malcolm is inLondon, I understand?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Likely to be coming north soon?"

"No word of it, sir. "

Mr. Carrington reflected for a moment and then rose and went towards thewindow. 

"We can draw back the curtains now, " said he. 

He drew them as he spoke and on the instant stepped involuntarily backand down went the small table. Miss Cicely Farmond was standing justoutside, evidently arrested by the drawn curtains. Her eyes opened verywide indeed at the sight of Mr. Carrington suddenly revealed. Her lipsparted for an instant as though she would cry out, and then she hurriedaway. 

Mr. Carrington seemed more upset by this incident than one would expectfrom such a composed, easy-going young man. 

"What will they think of me!" he exclaimed. "You must be sure to tellMiss Farmond--and Lady Cromarty too if she hears of this--that I camesolely to enquire about the shootings and not to poke my nose into theirlibrary! Make that very explicit, Bisset. "

Even though assured by Bisset that the young lady was the most amiableperson imaginable, he was continuing to lay stress on the point when hisattention was abruptly diverted by the sight of another lady in deepblack walking slowly away from the house. 

"Is that Lady Cromarty?" he asked, and no sooner had Bisset said "yes"than the window was up and Mr. Carrington stepping out of it. 

"I really must explain and apologise to her ladyship, " said he. 

"Her ladyship will never know----!" began Bisset, but the surprisingvisitor was already hastening after the mourning figure. Had the worthyman been able to hear the conversation which ensued he would have beenmore surprised still. 

"Lady Cromarty, I believe?" said the stranger in a deferential voice. 

She turned quickly, and her eyes searched him with that hard glance theywore always nowadays. 

"Yes, I am Lady Cromarty, " she said. 

"Pardon me for disturbing you, " said he. "It is a mere brief matter ofbusiness. I represent an insurance company to which Sir Malcolm Cromartyhas made certain proposals. We are not perfectly satisfied with hisstatements, and from other sources learn that he is engaged to bemarried. I have come simply to ascertain whether that is the case. "

Lady Cromarty was (as Mr. Carrington had shrewdly divined) no betterversed in the intricate matter of insurance than the majority of hersex, and evidently perceived nothing very unusual in this enquiry. Itmay be added in her excuse that the manner in which it was put by therepresentative of the company was a perfect example of how a businessman should address a lady. 

"It is the case, " said she. 

"May I ask your ladyship's authority--in strict confidence of course?"enquired the representative firmly, but very courteously. 

"I learned it from my own man of business, " said she. 

"Thank you, " said the insurance representative. "I beg that yourladyship will say nothing of my call, and I shall undertake not tomention the source of my information, " and with an adequate bow hereturned to the house. 

Before disappearing through her library window, Mr. Carrington saw thather ladyship's back was turned, and he then gave this candid, ifsomewhat sketchy, account of his interview to her butler. 

"It suddenly struck me, " said he, "that Lady Cromarty might think itsomewhat unseemly of me to come enquiring about shooting so soon afterher bereavement; so I gave her a somewhat different explanation. She isnot likely to make any further enquiries about me and so you need saynothing about my visit. "

He was careful however to impress on his friend Mr. Bisset that heactually had come from purely sporting motives. In fact he professedsome anxiety to get in touch with Sir Malcolm on the subject, eventhough assured that the young baronet had nothing to do with theshootings. 

"Ah, but it will gratify him, Bisset, " said he, "and I think it is thenice thing to do. Could you give me his London address?"

He jotted this down in his pocket book, and then as he was leaving hesaid confidentially:

"You tell me that you think Sir Malcolm is interested in Miss Farmond, though she seemed not so keen on him?"

"That was the way of it to my thinking, " said Bisset. "And whatdeduction would you draw from that, sir?"

"I should deduce, " said this sympathetic and intelligent visitor, "theprobable appearance of certain evidence bearing on our theories, Bisset. "

Mr. Bisset thought he had seldom met a pleasanter gentleman or a morehelpful assistant. 

XXV

A TELEGRAM

The car took Mr. Carrington straight back to the town and dropped him atthe door of Mr. Rattar's office. 

"I shall want you again at two o'clock sharp, " he said to the chauffeur, and turned in to the office. 

He caught the lawyer just before he went out to lunch and said at once:

"I want to see Sir Malcolm Cromarty. Can you arrange for him to run uphere for a day?"

Simon stared at him hard, and there seemed to be even more caution thanusual in his eye; almost, indeed, a touch of suspicion. The lawyer wasnot looking quite as well as usual; there was a drawn look about theupper part of the face and a hint of strain both in eyes and mouth. 

"Why do you want to see Sir Malcolm?" he enquired. 

"Well, " said Carrington, "the fact of the matter is, Mr. Rattar, that, as you yourself said, the direct evidence is practically nil, and one isforced to go a good deal by one's judgment of the people suspected orconcerned. "

Simon grunted sceptically. 

"Very misleading, " he said. 

"That depends entirely on one's judgment, or rather on one's instinctfor distinguishing bad eggs from good. As a matter of observation Idon't find that certain types of men and women commit certain actions, and I do find that they are apt to commit others. And contrariwise withother types. "

"Very unsafe doctrine, " said Simon emphatically. 

"Extremely--in the hands of any one who doesn't know how to apply it. Onthe other hand, it can be made a short and commonsense cut to the truthin many cases. For instance, the man who suspected Mr. Bisset ofcommitting the crime would simply be wasting his time and energy, evenif there seemed to be some evidence against him. "

"Any man can commit any crime, " said Simon dogmatically. 

Carrington smiled and shook his head. 

"Personally, " said he, "if you had a young and pretty wife, I am capableof running away with her, and possibly even of letting her persuade meto abscond with some of your property, but I am not capable of layingyou out in cold blood and rifling that safe. And a good judge of menought to be able to perceive this and not waste his time in trying toconvict me of an offence I couldn't commit. On the other hand, if thecrime was one that my type is apt to commit he would be a fool to acquitme off-hand, even if there was next to no evidence against me. "

"Then you simply go by your impressions of people?"

"Far from it. A complete absence of motive would force me to acquit eventhe most promising looking blackguard, unless of course there were someform of lunacy in his case. One must have motive and one must haveevidence as well, but character is the short cut--if the circumstancespermit you to use it. Sometimes of course they don't, but in this casethey force me to depend on it very largely. Therefore I want to see SirMalcolm Cromarty. "

The lawyer shook his head. 

"No, no, Mr. Carrington, " he said, "I can't bring him down here on suchtrivial grounds. "

"But you yourself suspect him!"

For a moment the lawyer was silent. 

"I think suspicion points to him; but what is wanted is _evidence_. Youcan't get evidence merely by bringing him here. You don't suppose hewill confess, do you?"

"Have you ever studied the French methods of getting at the truth?"enquired Carrington, and when Simon shook his head contemptuously, headded with some significance: "We can learn a good deal from ourneighbours. "

"Trivial grounds!" muttered Simon. "No, no!"

Carrington became unusually serious and impressive. 

"I am investigating this case, Mr. Rattar, and I want to see SirMalcolm. Will you send for him or not?"

"He wouldn't come. "

"It depends on the urgency of the message. "

"I can't invent bogus urgent messages to my clients. "

Carrington smiled. 

"I might do the inventing for you. "

Again the lawyer stared at him and again there was the same extremecaution in his eye, mingled with a hint of suspicion. 

"I'll think about it, " he said. 

"I want to see him immediately. "

"Call again to-morrow morning. "

Carrington's manner altered at once into his usual easy-going air. 

"Very well, then, Mr. Rattar, " said he as he rose. 

"By the way, " said Simon, "you have been out at Keldale this morning, Ipresume?"

"Yes, " said Carrington carelessly, "but there is really nothing new tobe found. "

Simon looked at him hard. 

"No fresh evidence?"

Carrington laughed. 

"Not likely, after you and your sleuth hounds had been over the ground!"

He went to the door, and there Simon again spoke. 

"What are you doing next?"

"Upon my word, I am rather wondering. I must think about it. Goodmorning. "

For a man who was rather wondering, Mr. Carrington's next movements wereremarkably prompt. He first went straight to the Post Office anddispatched a wire. It was addressed to Sir Malcolm Cromarty and itran--"Come immediately urgent news don't answer please don't delay. " Theonly thing that seemed to indicate a wondering and abstracted mind wasthe signature to this message. Instead of "Carrington" he actually wrote"Cicely Farmond. "

He then hurried to the hotel, which he reached at one-fifty. In tenminutes he had bolted a hasty lunch and at two o'clock was sitting inthe car again. 

"To Stanesland Castle, " he commanded. "And be as quick as you can. "

XXVI

AT STANESLAND

Mr. Carrington's interview with the laird of Stanesland began on muchthe same lines as his talk with Bisset. The amiable visitor was showninto the laird's smoking room--an apartment with vast walls like adungeon and on them trophies from the laird's adventurous days, andproceeded to make enquiry whether Mr. Cromarty was disposed to let hisshootings for next season, or, if not, whether he could recommend anyothers. 

As the visitor was in no hurry, he declared, to fix anything up, it wasvery natural that this conversation, like the morning's, shouldeventually turn on to the subject of the great local mystery. Through itall Mr. Carrington's monocle was more continually fixed on the otherthan usual, but if he were looking for peculiarities in the laird'smanner or any admissions made either by tongue or eye, he wasdisappointed. Cromarty was as breezy and as direct as ever, but evenwhen his visitor confessed his extreme interest in such cases ofremarkable crime, he (to all seeming) scented nothing in this beyond anot uncommon hobby. There was no doubt, however, of his keenness todiscuss the subject. Carrington gave him an entertaining account of hisefforts to assist Mr. Bisset, and then Ned asked:

"Well, what do you think of his theory that the man came in by thewindow?"

Carrington smiled. 

"Bisset is evidently extremely anxious to save the credit of thefamily. "

Ned Cromarty was aroused now. 

"Good God!" he cried. "But do you mean to say that you think that storywill hold water?"

"What story?" enquired Carrington mildly. 

"You know what I mean--the scandal that Sir Malcolm and--and a lady wereconcerned in the murder. "

"They are said to have actually committed it, aren't they?"

Ned's eye began to look dangerous. 

"Do you think it's credible?" he asked brusquely. 

"You know them better than I. Do you think it is?"

"Not for an instant!"

"I haven't met Sir Malcolm, " said Carrington, wiping his eyeglass on hishandkerchief. "I can't judge of him. What sort of a fellow is he?"

"A bit of a young squirt, " said Ned candidly. "But I'll not believe he'sa murderer till I get some proof of it. "

"And Miss Farmond? Is she at all a murderous lady?"

He fixed his monocle in his eye just in time to see his host controlhimself after what seemed to have been a somewhat violent spasm. 

"I'll stake my life on her innocence!" said Ned, and it was hard to knowwhether his manner as he said this should be termed fierce or solemn. 

For the space of perhaps two seconds Carrington's eyeglass stared verystraight at him, and immediately afterwards was taken out for cleaningagain, while its owner seemed to have found some new food for thought. The silence was broken by Ned asking brusquely:

"Don't you believe me?"

Again his visitor fixed the monocle in his eye, and he answered now veryquietly and deliberately:

"I happened to meet a young lady one afternoon, whom I discovered to beMiss Farmond. My own impression--for what it is worth--is that it wouldbe a mere waste of time to investigate the suspicion against her, supposing, that is, that one were a detective or anything of that kindengaged in this case. "

"You think she is innocent?" asked Ned eagerly. 

"I am quite certain of it, so far as I am any judge. "

Ned heaved a sigh of relief, and for an instant a smile flitted acrossCarrington's face. It seemed as though he were amused at such a tributeto the opinion of a mere chance visitor. 

"And Sir Malcolm?" enquired Ned. 

Carrington shook his head. 

"I have no means of judging--yet. "

Ned glanced at him quickly. 

"Do you expect to get hold of a means?"

Carrington's smile was his only answer to the question. And then, stillsmiling, he said:

"I rather wonder, Mr. Cromarty, that you who have taken so much interestin this case, and who are, I am told, the head of the family, don't getsome professional assistance to help you to get at the bottom of it. "

Ned's mouth shut hard and his eyes turned to the fire. He said nothingfor a moment and then remarked:

"Well, I guess that's worth thinking over. "

Carrington's shoulders moved in an almost imperceptible shrug, but hemade no comment aloud. In a moment Ned said:

"Supposing those two are scored out, there doesn't seem to be anybodyelse inside the house who could have committed the crime, does there?You wouldn't suspect Lady Cromarty or Bisset, would you?"

"Lady Cromarty is physically incapable of giving her husband the blow hemust have received. Besides, they were a very devoted couple, Iunderstand, and she gained nothing by his death--lost heavily, in fact. As for Bisset----" Carrington let his smile finish the sentence. 

"Then it must have been some one from outside--but who?"

"Can you think of any one?" asked Carrington. 

Ned shook his head emphatically. 

"Can you?" he asked. 

"Me?" said his visitor with an innocent air, and yet with a twinkle foran instant in his eye. "I am a mere stranger to the place, and if youand Mr. Rattar and the police are baffled, what can I suggest?"

Ned seemed for a moment a trifle disconcerted. Then he said:

"That's so, of course, Mr. Carrington. But since we happen to be talkingabout it--well, I guess I'm quite curious to know if any ideas have justhappened to occur to you. "

"Well, " said the other, "between ourselves, Mr. Cromarty, and speakingquite confidentially, one idea has struck me very forcibly. "

"What's that?" asked Ned eagerly. 

"Simply this, that though it _might_ be conceivable to think of somebodyor other, the difficulty that stares me in the face is--motive!"

Ned's face fell. 

"Well, that's what has struck all of us. "

"Sir Reginald was a popular landlord, I hear. "

"The most popular in the county. "

"This isn't Ireland, " continued Carrington. "Tenants don't lay out theirlandlords on principle, and in this particular instance they wouldsimply stand to lose by his death. Then take his tradesmen and his agentand so on, they all stand to lose too. An illicit love affair and avengeful swain might be a conceivable theory, if his character gavecolour to it; but there's not a hint of that, and some rumour wouldhave got about for certain if that had been the case. "

"You may dismiss that, " said Ned emphatically. 

"Then there you are--what's the motive?"

"If one could think of a possible man, one could probably think of apossible motive. "

On Carrington's face a curious look appeared for an instant. 

"I only wish one could, " he murmured. 

A gong sounded and Ned rose. 

"That means tea, " said he. "I always have it in my sister's room. Comeup. "

They went up the stone stair and turned into Miss Cromarty's boudoir. Onher, Mr. Carrington produced a favourable impression that was evident atonce. At all times she liked good-looking and agreeable gentlemen, andlately she had been suffering from a dearth of them. She had beensuffering also from her brother's pig-headed refusal to reconsider hisdecision not to buy a car; and finally from the lack of some one tosympathise with her in this matter. In the opulent-looking andsportingly attired Mr. Carrington she quickly perceived a kindredspirit, and having a tongue that was not easily intimidated even by theformidable looking laird, she launched into her grievance. They had beentalking about the long distances that separated most of the mansions inthe county. 

"Isn't it ridiculous, Mr. Carrington, " said she, "we haven't got a car!"

"Absurd, " agreed Mr. Carrington, helping himself to cake. 

"Do you know, this brother of mine here has actually come into afortune, and yet he won't buy me even one little motor car!"

Ned frowned and muttered something that might have checked theirvisitor's reply, had he noticed the laird's displeasure, but for themoment he seemed to have become very unobserving. 

"Come into a fortune?" said he. "What a bit of luck! How much--amillion--two million?"

"Oh, not as much as that, worse luck! But quite enough to buy at leastthree decent cars if he was half a sportsman! And he won't get one!"

Mr. Carrington was now trying to balance his cake in his saucer and wasevidently too absorbed in his efforts to notice his host's waxingdispleasure. 

"In my experience, " said he, "you can't get a decent car much under fourhundred. "

"Well, " said she, "that's just the figure it would bring it to. "

"Lilian!" muttered her brother wrathfully. 

But at that moment Mr. Carrington coughed, evidently over a cake crumb, and failed to hear the expostulation. 

"But perhaps he is going to buy you something even handsomer instead, "he suggested. 

"Is he!" she scoffed, with a defiant eye on her brother. "I believe he'sgoing to blue it in something too scandalous to talk about in mixedsociety! Anyhow it's something too mysterious to tell me!"

By this time Ned's face was a thundercloud in which lightning wasclearly imminent, but Mr. Carrington now recovered his wonted tact assuddenly as he had lost it. 

"That reminds me of a very curious story I heard at my club the otherday, " he began, and in a few minutes the conversation was far away fromMiss Cromarty's grievances. And then, having finished his cup of tea, helooked at his watch with an exclamation and protested that he mustdepart on the instant. 

As he lay back in his car he murmured with a satisfied smile:

"That's settled anyhow!"

And then for the whole drive home he fell very thoughtful indeed. Onlyone incident aroused him, and that but for a moment. It was quite darkby this time, and somewhere between the Keldale House lodge and thetown, the lamps of the car swept for an instant over a girl riding abicycle in the opposite direction. Carrington looked round quickly andsaw that she was Miss Cicely Farmond. 

XXVII

FLIGHT

On the morning after his visit from Mr. Carrington, Ned Cromarty tookhis keeper with him and drove over to shoot on a friend's estate. Hestayed for tea and it was well after five o'clock and quite dark when hestarted on his long drive home. The road passed close to a waysidestation with a level crossing over the line, and when they came to thisthe gates were closed against them and the light of the signal of the upline had changed from red to white. 

"Train's up to time, " said Ned to the keeper. "I thought we'd have gotthrough before she came. "

There was no moon, a fine rain hung in the air, and the night wasalready pitch dark. Sitting there in the dogcart before the closedgates, behind the blinding light of the gig lamps, they were quiteinvisible themselves; but about thirty yards to their left they saw thestation platform plainly in the radiance of its lights, and, straightbefore them in the radiance of their own, they could see less distinctlythe road beyond the line. 

At first, save for the distant rumble of the southward bound train, there was no sign of life or of movement anywhere, and then all at oncea figure on a bicycle appeared on the road, and in a moment dismountedbeside the station. It was a girl in black, and at the sight of her, Nedbent forward suddenly in his driving seat and stared intently into thenight. He saw her unstrap a small suit case from the bicycle and leadthe bicycle into the station. A minute or two passed and then sheemerged from the ticket office on to the platform carrying the suit casein her hand. The bicycle she had evidently left in the station, and itseemed manifest that she was going by this train. 

"That's Miss Farmond, sir, from Keldale House!" exclaimed the keeper. 

His master said nothing but kept his eye intently fixed on the girl. Oneof the platform lamps lit her plainly, and he thought she looked themost forlorn and moving sight that had ever stirred his heart. There wassomething shrinking in her attitude, and when she looked once for a fewmoments straight towards him, there seemed to be something both sad andfrightened in her face. Not another soul was on the platform, and seenin that patch of light against an immensity of dark empty country andblack sky, she gave him such an impression of friendlessness that hecould scarcely stay in his seat. And all the while the roar of theon-coming train was growing louder and ever louder. In a few minutes shewould be gone--"Where?" he asked himself. 

"I'm wondering where she'll be going at this time o' night with naemair luggage than yon, " said the keeper. 

That decided it. 

"Take the trap home and tell Miss Cromarty not to expect me to-night, "said his master, quickly. "Say I've gone--oh, anywhere you derned welllike! There's something up and I'm going to see what it is. "

He jumped quietly on the road just as the engine thundered between thegates in front. By the time the train was at rest, he was over the gateand making his way to the platform. He stopped in the darkness by therear end of the train till he saw the figure in black disappear into acarriage, and then he stepped into a compartment near the guard's van. 

"Haven't got a ticket, but I'll pay as I go along, " he said to the guardas he passed the window. 

The guard knew Mr. Cromarty well and touched his cap, and then the trainstarted and Mr. Cromarty was embarked upon what he confessed to himselfwas the blindest journey he had ever made in all his varied career. 

Where was she going--and why was she going? He asked himself thesequestions over and over again as he sat with a cigar between his teethand his long legs stretched out on the opposite seat, and the traindrove on into an ever wilder and more desolate land. It would be verymany miles and a couple of hours or more before they reached any sort ofconceivable destination for her, and as a matter of fact this train didnot go beyond that destination. Then it struck him sharply that up tillthe end of last month the train had continued its southward journey. Thealteration in the timetable was only a few days old. Possibly she wasnot aware of it and had counted on travelling to--where? He knew whereshe had got to stop, but where had she meant to stop? Or where would shego to-morrow? And above all, why was she going at all, leaving herbicycle at a wayside station and with her sole luggage a small suitcase? Ned shook his head, tried to suck life into his neglected cigar, and gave up the problem in the meanwhile. 

As to the question of what business he had to be following Miss Farmondlike this, he troubled his head about it not at all. If she needed him, here he was. If she didn't, he would clear out. But very strong and veryurgent was the conviction that she required a friend of some sort. 

The stations were few and far between and most desolate, improbableplaces as endings for Cicely Farmond's journey. He looked out of thewindow at each of them, but she never alighted. 

"She's going to find herself stuck for the night. That's about the sizeof it, " he said to himself as they left the last station before thejourney ended. 

Though their next stop was the final stop, he did not open the carriagedoor when the train pulled up. He did not even put his head far out ofthe window, only just enough to see what passed on the platform ahead. 

"I'm not going to worry her if she doesn't need me, " he said to himself. 

He saw the slip of a figure in black talking to the stationmaster, andit was hardly necessary to hear that official's last words in order todivine what had happened. 

"Weel, miss, " he overheard the stationmaster say, "I'm sorry ye'redisappointed, but it's no me that has stoppit the train. It's aff forthe winter. If ye turn to the left ye'll fin' the hotel. "

The girl looked round her slowly and it seemed to Ned that the way shedid it epitomised disappointment and desolation, and then she hurriedthrough the station buildings and was gone. 

He was out of the carriage and after her in an instant. Beyond thestation the darkness was intense and he had almost passed a roadbranching to the left without seeing it. He stopped and was going toturn down it when it struck him the silence was intense that way, butthat there was a light sound of retreating footsteps straight ahead. 

"She's missed the turning!" he said to himself, and followed thefootsteps. 

In a little he could see her against the sky, a dim hurrying figure, andhis own stride quickened. He had never been in this place before, but heknew it for a mere seaboard village with an utterly lonely country onevery inland side. She was heading into a black wilderness, and he tookhis decision at once and increased his pace till he was overhauling herfast. 

At the sound of his footsteps he could see that she glanced over hershoulder and made the more haste till she was almost running. And thenas she heard the pursuing steps always nearer she suddenly slackenedspeed to let him pass. 

"Miss Farmond!" said he. 

He could hear her gasp as she stopped short and turned sharply. She wasstaring hard now at the tall figure looming above her. 

"It's only me--Ned Cromarty, " he said quietly. 

And then he started in turn, for instead of showing relief she gave ahalf smothered little cry and shrank away from him. For a moment therewas dead silence and then he said, still quietly, though it cost him aneffort. 

"I only mean to help you if you need a hand. Are you looking for thehotel?"

"Yes, " she said in a low frightened voice. 

"Well, " said he, "I guess you'd walk till morning before you reached anhotel along this road. You missed the turning at the station. Give meyour bag. Come along!"

She let him take the suit case and she turned back with him, but itstruck him painfully that her docility was like that of a frightenedanimal. 

"Where are you bound for?" he enquired in his usual direct way. 

She murmured something that he could not catch and then they fellaltogether silent till they had retraced their road to the station andturned down towards a twinkling light or two which showed where thevillage lay. 

"Now, Miss Farmond, " said he, "we are getting near this pub and as we'veboth got to spend the night there, you'll please observe these few shortand simple rules. I'm your uncle--Uncle Ned. D'you see?"

There was no laugh, or even a smile from her. She gave a little start ofsurprise and in a very confused voice murmured:

"Yes, I see. "

"My full name is Mr. Ned Dawkins and you're Louisa Dawkins my niece. Just call me 'Uncle Ned' and leave me to do the talking. We are touringthis beautiful country and I've lost my luggage owing to the dernedfoolishness of the railroad officials here. And then when we've had alittle bit of dinner you can tell me, if you like, why you've eloped andwhy you've got a down on me. Or if you don't like to, well, you needn't. Ah, here's the pub at last. "

He threw open the door and in a loud and cheerful voice cried:

"Well, here we are, Louisa. Walk right in, my dear!"

XXVIII

THE RETURN

His friends would scarcely have picked out Mr. Ned Cromarty ofStanesland as likely to make a distinguished actor, but they might havechanged their opinion had they heard him breezily announce himself asMr. Dawkins from Liverpool and curse the Scottish railways which hadlost his luggage for him. It is true that the landlord looked at him atrifle askance and that the landlady and her maid exchanged a knowingsmile when he ordered a room for his niece Louisa, but few people shutup in a little country inn with such a formidable looking, loud voicedgiant, would have ventured to question his statements openly, and theequanimity of Mr. Dawkins remained undisturbed. 

"Sit right down, Louisa!" he commanded when dinner was served; and then, addressing the maid, "You needn't wait. We'll ring when we need you. "

But the moment she had gone he checked a strong expression with aneffort. 

"Damn--confound it!" he cried. "I ought to have remembered to say grace!That would have given just the finishing touch to the Uncle Nedbusiness. However, I don't think they've smelt any rats. "

Cicely smiled faintly and then her eyes fell and she answered nothing. Their only other conversation during dinner consisted in hisexpostulations on her small appetite and her low-voiced protests thatshe wasn't hungry. But when it was safely over, he pushed back hischair, crossed his knees, and began:

"Now, Louisa, I'm going to take an uncle's privilege of lighting my pipebefore I begin to talk, if you don't mind. "

He lit his pipe, and then suddenly dropping the rôle of unclealtogether, said gently:

"I don't want to press you with any questions that you don't want toanswer, but if you need a friend of any sort, size, or description, hereI am. " He paused for a moment and then asked still more gently: "Are youafraid of me?"

For the first time she let her long-lashed eyes rest full on his faceand in her low voice, she answered:

"Partly afraid. "

"And partly what else?"

"Partly puzzled--and partly ashamed. "

"Ashamed!" he exclaimed with a note of indignant protest. "Ashamed ofwhat?"

"The exhibition I've made of myself, " she said, her voice still verylow. 

"Well, " he smiled, "that's a matter of opinion. But why are you afraid?"

"Oh, " she exclaimed. "You know of course!"

He stared at her blankly. 

"I pass; I can't play to that!" he replied. "I honestly do not know, Miss Farmond. "

Her eyes opened very wide. 

"That's what I meant when I said I was puzzled. You _must_ know--andyet----!"

She broke off and looked at him doubtfully. 

"Look here, " said he, "some one's got to solve this mystery, and I'llrisk a leading question. Why did you run away?"

"Because of what you have been doing!"

"_Me_ been doing! And what have I been doing?"

"Suspecting me and setting a detective to watch me!"

Ned's one eye opened wide, but for a moment he said not a word. Then heremarked quietly:

"This is going to be a derned complicated business. Just you begin atthe beginning, please, and let's see how things stand. Who told you Iwas setting a detective on to you?"

"I found out myself I was being watched. "

"How and when?"

She hesitated, and the doubtful look returned to her eyes. 

"Come, Louisa!" he said. "No nonsense this time! We've got to have thisout--or my name's Dawkins!"

For the first time she smiled spontaneously, and the doubtful lookalmost vanished. Just a trace was left, but her voice, though still verylow, was firmer now. 

"I only discovered for the first time the wicked suspicion about poorMalcolm, " she said, "when I met a gentleman a few days ago who told mehe had heard Malcolm was arrested for the murder of Sir Reginald. "

"But that's not true!" cried Ned. 

"No, and he admitted it was only a story he had heard at the hotel, butit suddenly seemed to throw light on several things I hadn't been ableto understand. I spoke to Lady Cromarty about it, and then I actuallyfound that I was suspected too!"

"Did she tell you so?"

"Not in so many words, but I knew what was in her mind. And then thevery next day I caught the same man examining the library with Bissetand I saw him out of the window follow Lady Cromarty and speak to her, and then I knew he was a detective!"

"How did you know?"

"Oh, by instinct, and I was right! The position was so horrible--sounbearable, that I went in to see Mr. Rattar about it. "

"Why Rattar?"

"Because he is the family lawyer and he's also investigating the case, and I thought of course he was employing the detective. And Mr. Rattartold me you were really employing him. Are you?"

There was a pleading note in this question--a longing to hear the answer"No" that seemed to affect Ned strangely. 

"It's all right, Miss Farmond!" he said. "Don't you worry! I got thatman down here to clear you--just for that purpose and no other!"

"But----" she exclaimed, "Mr. Rattar said you suspected Malcolm and meand were determined to prove our guilt!"

"Simon Rattar said that!"

There was something so menacing in his voice that Cicely involuntarilyshrank back. 

"Do you mean to tell me, honour bright, that Simon Rattar told you thatlie in so many words?"

"Yes, " she said, "he did indeed. And he said that this Mr. Carringtonwas a very clever man and was almost certain to trump up a very strongcase against us, and so he advised me to go away. "

He seemed almost incapable of speech at this. 

"He actually advised you to bolt?"

She nodded. 

"To slip away quietly to London and stay in an hotel he recommended tillI heard from him. He said you had sworn to track down the criminals andhang them with your own hands, and so when I saw you suddenly come upbehind me in that dark road to-night--oh, you've no idea how terrified Iwas! Mr. Rattar had frightened away all the nerve I ever had, and thenwhen I thought I was safely away, you suddenly came up behind me in thatdark road!"

"You poor little----" he began, laying his hand upon hers, and then heremembered Sir Malcolm and altered his sentence into: "You know nowthat was all one infernal pack of lies, don't you?"

Though he took away his hand, she had not moved her own, and she gavehim now a look which richly rewarded him for his evening's work. 

"I believe every word you tell me, " she said. 

"Well then, " said Ned, "I tell you that I got this fellow Carringtondown to take up the case so that I could clear you in the first placeand find the right man in the second. So as to give him an absolutelyclear field, he wasn't told who was employing him, and then he couldsuspect me myself if he wanted to. As a matter of fact, I rather thinkhe has guessed who's running him. Anyhow, yesterday afternoon he told mestraight and emphatically that he knew you were innocent. So you've runaway a day too late!"

She laughed at last, and then fell serious again. 

"But what did Mr. Rattar mean by saying you had engaged the detectivebecause you suspected Malcolm and me?"

"That's precisely what I want to find out, " said Ned grimly. "He couldguess easy enough who was employing Carrington, because I had suggestedgetting a detective, only Simon wouldn't rise to it. But as to saying Isuspected you, he knew that was a lie, and I can only suspect he'sgetting a little tired of life!"

They talked on for a little longer, still sitting by the table, with hereyes now constantly smiling into his, until at last he had to remindhimself so vigorously of the absent and lucky baronet that the pleasurebegan to ebb. And then they said good-night and he was left staringinto the fire. 

 * * * * *

Next morning they faced one another in a first class carriage on ahomeward bound train. 

"What shall I say to Lady Cromarty?" she asked, half smiling, halffearfully. 

He reflected for a few minutes. 

"Tell her the truth. Lies don't pay in the long run. I can bear witnessto this part of the story, and to the Carrington part if necessary, though I don't want to give him away if I can help it. "

"Oh no!" she said, "we mustn't interfere with him. But supposing LadyCromarty doesn't believe----"

"Come straight to Stanesland! Will you?"

"Run away again?"

"It's the direction you run in that matters, " said he. "Now, mind you, that's understood!"

She was silent for a little and then she said:

"I can't understand why these horrible stories associate Malcolm and me. Why should we have conspired to do such a dreadful thing?"

He stared at her, and then hesitated. 

"Because--well, being engaged to him----"

"Engaged to Malcolm!" she exclaimed. "Whatever put that into people'sheads?"

"What!" he cried. "Aren't you?"

"Good gracious no! Was _that_ the reason then?"

He seemed too lost in his own thoughts to answer her; but they wereevidently not unhappy thoughts this time. 

"Who can have started such a story?" she demanded. 

"Who started it?" he repeated and then was immersed in thought again;only now there was a grim look on his face. 

"Well anyhow, " he cried, in a minute or two, "we're out of that wood!Aren't we, Louisa?"

"Yes, Uncle Ned, " she smiled back. 

He stirred impulsively in his seat and then seemed to check himself, andfor the rest of the journey he appeared to be divided between contentwith the present hour and an impulse to improve upon it. And then beforehe had realised where they were, they had stopped at a station, and shewas exclaiming:

"Oh, I must get out here! I've left my bike in the station!"

"Look here, " said he, with his hand on the door handle, "before you goyou've got to swear that you'll come straight to Stanesland if there'sanother particle of trouble. Swear?"

"But what about Miss Cromarty?" she smiled. 

"Miss Cromarty will say precisely the same as I do, " he said with acuriously significant emphasis. "So now, I don't open this door till youpromise!"

"I promise!" said she, and then she was standing on the platform wavinga farewell. 

"I half wish I'd risked it!" he said to himself with a sigh as the trainmoved on, and then he ruminated with an expression on his face thatseemed to suggest a risk merely deferred. 

XXIX

BROTHER AND SISTER

Ned Cromarty found his sister in her room. 

"Well, Ned, " she asked, "where on earth have you been?"

He shut the door before he answered, and then came up to the fireplace, and planted himself in front of her. 

"Who told you that Cicely Farmond was engaged to Malcolm Cromarty?" hedemanded. 

She made a little grimace of comic alarm, but her eye was apprehensive. 

"Don't eat my head off, Neddy! How can I remember?"

"You've got to remember, " said her brother grimly. "And you'd better becareful what you tell me, for I'll go straight to the woman, or man, youname. "

She looked at him boldly enough. 

"I don't know if you are aware of it, but this isn't the way I'maccustomed to be talked to. "

"It's the way you're being talked to now, " said he. "Who told you?"

"I absolutely refuse to answer if you speak to me like that, Ned!"

"Then we part company, Lilian. "

There was no doubt about the apprehension in her eye now. For a momentit seemed to wonder whether he was actually in earnest, and then todecide that he was. 

"I--I don't know who told me, " she said in an altered voice. 

"Did anybody tell you, or did you make it up?"

"I never actually said they were engaged. "

He looked at her in silence and very hard, and then he spokedeliberately. 

"I won't ask you why you deceived me, Lilian, but it was a low downtrick to play on me, and it has turned out to be a damned cruel trick toplay on that girl. I mentioned the engagement as a mere matter of courseto somebody, and though I mentioned it confidentially, it started thisslander about Malcolm Cromarty and Cicely Farmond conspiring tomurder--to _murder_, Lilian!--the man of all men they owed most to. That's what you've done!"

By this time Lilian Cromarty's handkerchief was at her eyes. 

"I--I am very sorry, Ned, " she murmured. 

But he was not to be soothed by a tear, even in the most adroit lady'seye. 

"The latest consequence has been, " he said sternly, "that through amixture of persecution and bad advice she has been driven to run away. Luckily I spotted her at the start and fetched her back, and I've toldher that if there is the least little bit more trouble she is to comestraight here and that you will give her as good a welcome as I shall. Is that quite clear?"

"Yes, " she murmured through her handkerchief. 

"Otherwise, " said he, "there's no room for us both here. One singlesuggestion that she isn't welcome--and you have full warning now of theconsequences!"

"When is she coming?" she asked in an uncertain voice. 

"When? Possibly never. But there's some very fishy--and it looks to me, some very dirty business going on, and this port stands open in case ofa storm. You fully understand?"

"Of course I do, " she said, putting away her handkerchief. "I'm notquite a fool!"

And indeed, none of her friends or acquaintances had ever made thataccusation against Lilian Cromarty. 

"Well, that's all, " said Ned, and began to move across the room. 

But now the instinct for finding a scapegoat began to revive. 

"Who did you tell it to, Ned?" she asked. 

"Simon Rattar. "

"Then _he_ has spread this dreadful story!" she exclaimed with righteousindignation. 

Her brother stopped and slowly turned back. 

"By heaven, I've scarcely had time to think it all out yet--but it lookslike it!"

"It _must_ be that nasty grumpy old creature! If you told nobodyelse--well, it can't be anybody else!"

"But why should he go and spread such a story?"

"Because he wants to shelter some one else!"

"Who?"

"Ah, that's for the police to find out. But I'm quite certain, Ned, thatthat pig-headed old Simon with his cod-fish eyes and his everlastinggrunt is at the bottom of it all!"

He stared thoughtfully into space. 

"Well, " he said slowly, "he has certainly been asking for trouble in oneor two ways, and this seems another invitation. But he'll get it, sure!At the same time--what's his object?"

His sister had no hesitation. 

"Either to make money or hide something disgraceful. You really mustenquire into this, Ned!"

He dropped into a chair and sat for a few minutes with his face in hishands. At last he looked up and shook his head. 

"I'm out of my depth, " he said. "I guess I'd better see Carrington. "

"Mr. Carrington?" she exclaimed. 

"I had a long talk with him, " he explained. "He seems an uncommon shrewdfellow. Yes, that's the proper line!"

She looked at him curiously but evidently judged it tactful in thepresent delicate situation to ask no more. He rose now and went, stillthoughtful, to the door. 

"What a dreadful thing of Simon Rattar to do! Wasn't it, Ned?" she saidindignantly, her eyes as bright as ever again. 

He turned as she went out. 

"The whole thing has been damnable!"

As the door closed behind him she made a little grimace again and thengave a little shrug. 

"He's going to marry her!" she said to herself, and acting immediatelyon a happy inspiration, sat down to write a long and affectionate letterto an old friend whose country house might, with judicious management, be considered good for a six months' visit. 

XXX

A MARKED MAN

The unexpected energy displayed by her charming guest in bustling allover the country had surprised and a little perplexed Miss Peterkin, butshe now decided that it was only a passing phase, for on the dayfollowing his visits to Keldale and Stanesland he exhibited exactly thesame leisurely calm she had admired at first. He sought out the localgolf course and for an hour or two his creditable game confirmed hisreputation as a sportsman, and for the rest of the time he idled in avery gentlemanly manner. 

In the course of the afternoon he strolled out and gradually driftedthrough the dusk towards the station. Finding the train was, as usual, indefinitely late, he strolled out again and finally drifted back justas the signals had fallen at last. It was quite dark by this time andthe platform lamps were lit, but Mr. Carrington chanced to standinconspicuously in a background of shadows. As the engine hissedponderously under the station roof and the carriage doors began to open, he still stood there, the most casual of spectators. A few passengerspassed him, and then came a young man in a fur coat, on whom some verycurious glances had been thrown when he alighted from his first classcompartment. Mr. Carrington, however, seemed to take no interest eitherin him or anybody else till the young man was actually passing him, andthen he suddenly stepped out of the shadows, touched him on the shoulderand said in a much deeper and graver voice than usual:

"Sir Malcolm Cromarty, I believe!"

The young man started violently and turned a pale face. 

"Ye--es, I am, " he stammered. 

"May I have a word with you?" said Carrington gravely. 

With a dreadfully nervous air Sir Malcolm accompanied him out into thedark road, neither speaking, and then the young man demanded hoarsely:

"What do you want with me?"

Carrington's voice suddenly resumed its usual cheerful note. 

"Forgive me, " he said, "for collaring you like this, but the fact is Iam very keen to see you about the Keldale shootings. "

Sir Malcolm gave a gasp of relief. 

"Thank Heaven!" he exclaimed. "Good Lord, what a fright you gave me!"

"I say I'm awfully sorry!" said Carrington anxiously. "How frightfullystupid I must have been!"

The young man looked at him, and, like most other people, evidentlyfound his ingenuous face and sympathetic manner irresistibly confidenceinspiring. 

"Oh, not at all, " he said. "In fact you must have wondered at my manner. The fact is Mr. --er----"

"Carrington. "

"Mr. Carrington, that I'm in a most awful position at present. You knowof course that I'm suspected of murder!"

"No!" exclaimed Carrington, with vast interest. "Not really?"

"It's an absolute fact--suspected of murder! Good God, just imagine it!"

The young baronet stopped and faced his new acquaintance dramatically. In spite of his nervousness, it was evident that his notoriety hadcompensations. 

"Yes, " he said, "I--the head of an ancient and honourable house--amactually suspected of having murdered my cousin, Sir Reginald Cromarty!"

"What, that murder!" exclaimed Carrington. "By Jove, of course, I'veheard a lot about the case. And you are really suspected?"

"So much so, " said the baronet darkly, "that when you touched me on theshoulder I actually thought you were going to arrest me!"

Carrington seemed equally astounded and penitent at this unfortunatereading of his simple and natural action in stepping suddenly out of thedark and tapping a nervous stranger on the shoulder. 

"How very tactless of me!" he repeated more than once. "Really, I mustbe more careful another time!"

And then he suddenly turned his monocle on to the baronet and enquired:

"But how do you know you are suspected?"

"How do I know! My God, all fingers are pointing at me! Even in my clubin London I feel I am a marked man. I have discussed my awful positionwith all my friends, and by this time they tell me that everybody elseknows too!"

"That is--er--not unnatural, " said Carrington drily. "But how did youfirst learn?"

The young man's voice fell almost to a whisper and he glancedapprehensively over his shoulder as he spoke. 

"I knew I should be suspected the moment I heard of the crime! The verynight before--perhaps at the actual moment when the deed was beingdone--I did a foolish thing!"

"You don't say so!" exclaimed his new friend with every appearance ofsurprise. 

"Yes, you may not believe me, but I acted like a damned silly ass. Mindyou, I am not as a rule a silly ass, " the baronet added with dignity, "but that night I actually confided in a woman!"

"What woman?"'

"My relative Miss Cicely Farmond--a charming girl, I may mention; therewas every excuse for me, still it was a rotten thing to do, I quiteadmit. I told her that I was hard up and feeling desperate, and I evensaid I was going to sit up late! And on top of that Sir Reginald wasmurdered that very night. Imagine my sensations for the next few days, living in the same house with the woman who had heard me say _that_! Sheheld my fate in her hands, but, thank God, she evidently had such faithin my honour and humanity that she forebore to--er----"

"Peach, " suggested Carrington, "though as a matter of fact, I fancy shehad forgotten all about the incident. "

"Forgotten my words!" exclaimed the baronet indignantly. "Impossible! Ican never forget them myself so long as I live!"

"Well, " said Carrington soothingly, "let us suppose she remembered them. Anyhow she said nothing, and, that being so, how did you first actuallyknow that you were suspected?"

"My own man of business thought it his duty to drop me a hint!" criedthe baronet. 

This piece of information seemed to produce quite as much impression onhis new acquaintance as his first revelation, though he took it rathermore quietly. 

"Really!" said he in a curious voice. "And what course of action did headvise?"

"He advised me to keep away from the place. In fact he even suggested Ishould go abroad--and, by Gad, I'm going too!"

To this, Carrington made no reply at all. His thoughts, in fact, seemedto have wandered entirely away from Sir Malcolm Cromarty. The baronetseemed a trifle disappointed at his lack of adequate interest. 

"Don't you sympathise with me, " he enquired. 

"I beg your pardon, " said Carrington, "my thoughts were wandering forthe moment. I do sympathise. By the way, what are you going to do now?"

The baronet started. 

"By Gad, my own thoughts are wandering!" said he, "though I certainlyhave some excuse! I must get down to the Kings Arms and order a trap totake me out to Keldale House as quickly as I can. " And then he addedmysteriously, "I only came down here because I was urgently wired for bysome one who--well, I couldn't refuse. "

"I'm going to the Kings Arms, too. We'll walk down together, if youdon't mind. "

"Delighted, " said the baronet, "if you don't mind being seen with such amarked man. "

"I rather like them marked, " smiled Carrington. 

All the way to the hotel the notorious Sir Malcolm pursued what hadevidently become his favourite subject:--the vast sensation he wascausing in society and the pain it gave a gentleman of title andposition to be placed in such a predicament. When they reached the KingsArms, his new acquaintance insisted in a very friendly and confident waythat there was no immediate hurry about starting for Keldale, and thatthe baronet must come up to his sitting room first and have a littlerefreshment. 

The effect of a couple of large glasses of sloe gin was quicklyapparent. Sir Malcolm became decidedly happier and even moreconfidential. He was considerably taken aback, however, when his hostsuddenly asked, with a disconcertingly intense glance:

"Are you quite sure you are really innocent?"

"Innocent!" exclaimed the baronet, leaping out of his chair. "Do youmean to tell me you doubt it? Do you actually believe I am capable ofkilling a man in cold blood? Especially the honoured head of my ownhouse?"

Carrington seemed to suppress a smile. 

"No, " said he, "I don't believe it. "

"Then, sir, " said the baronet haughtily, "kindly do not question myhonour!"

This time Carrington allowed his smile to appear. 

"Sit down, Sir Malcolm, " he said, "pull yourself together, and listen toa few words. "

Sir Malcolm looked extremely surprised, but obeyed. 

"What I am going to say is in the strictest confidence and you must giveme your word not to repeat one single thing I tell you. "

His serious manner evidently impressed the young man. 

"I give you my word, sir, " said he. 

"Well then, in the first place, I am a detective. "

For a few seconds Sir Malcolm stared at him in silence and then burstinto a hearty laugh. 

"Good egg, sir!" said he. "Good egg! If I had not finished my sloe ginI should drink to your health!"

It was Carrington's turn to look disconcerted. Recovering himself hesaid with a smile:

"You shall have another glass of sloe gin when you have grasped thesituation. I assure you I am actually a detective--or, rather, a privateenquiry agent. "

Sir Malcolm shook a knowing head. 

"My dear fellow, " said he, "you can't really pull my leg like that. Ican see perfectly well you are a gentleman. "

"I appreciate the compliment, " said Carrington, "but just let me tellyou what was in the telegram which has brought you here. It ran--'Comeimmediately urgent news don't answer please don't delay. CicelyFarmond. '"

Sir Malcolm's mouth fell open. 

"How--how do you know that?" he asked. 

"Because I wrote it myself. Miss Farmond is quite unaware it was sent. "

The baronet began to look indignant. 

"But--er--why the devil, sir----"

"Because I am a detective, " interrupted Carrington, "and I wished to seeyou. "

Sir Malcolm evidently began to grasp the situation at last. 

"What about?" he asked, and his face was a little paler already. 

"About this murder. I wanted to satisfy myself that you were--or werenot--innocent. "

"But--er--how?"

"By your actions, conversation, and appearance. I am now satisfied, SirMalcolm. "

"That I am innocent. "

"Yes. "

"Then will this be the end of my--er--painful position?"

"So far as your own anxiety goes; yes. You need no longer fear arrest. "

The first look of relief which had rushed to the young man's face becameclouded with a suggestion of chagrin. 

"But won't people then--er--talk about me any longer?"

"I am afraid I can't prevent that--for a little longer. "

The last of the baronet's worries seemed to disappear. 

"Ah!" he said complacently. "Well, let them talk about me!"

Carrington rose and rang the bell. 

"You deserve a third sloe gin!" said he. 

While the third sloe gin was being brought, he very deliberately andvery thoughtfully selected and lit a cigarette, and then he said:

"You tell me specifically that Mr. Rattar was the first person to informyou that suspicion was directed against you, and that he advised you tokeep away, and for choice to go abroad. There is no doubt about that, isthere?"

"Well, " said Sir Malcolm, "he didn't specifically advise me to goabroad, but certainly his letter seemed to suggest it. "

"Ah!" said Carrington and gazed into space for a moment. 

"I am now going to take the liberty of suggesting your best course ofaction, " he resumed. "In the first place, there is no object in yourgoing out to Keldale House, so I think you had better not. In the secondplace, you had better call on Mr. Rattar first thing to-morrow andconsult him about any point of business that strikes you as a sufficientreason for coming so far to see him. I may tell you that he has givenyou extremely bad advice, so you can be as off-hand and brief with himas you like. Get out of his office, in fact, as quick as you can. "

"That's what I always want to do, " said the baronet. "I can't stick theold fellow at any price. "

"If he asks you whether you have seen me, say you have just seen me butdidn't fancy me, and don't give him the least idea of what we talkedabout. You can add that you left the Kings Arms because you didn't carefor my company. "

"But am I to leave it?" exclaimed the young man. 

Carrington nodded. 

"It's better that we shouldn't stay in the same hotel. It will supportyour account of me. And finally, get back to London by the first trainafter you have seen Mr. Rattar. "

"Then aren't you working with old Simon?" enquired Sir Malcolm. 

"Oh, in a sense, I am, " said Carrington carelessly, "but I daresay youhave found him yourself an arbitrary, meddlesome old boy, and I like tobe independent. "

"By Gad, so do I, " the baronet agreed cordially. "I am quite with youabout old Silent Simon. I'll do just exactly as you suggest. He won'tget any change out of me!"

"And now, " said Carrington, "get your bag taken to any other hotel youlike. I'll explain everything to Miss Peterkin. "

Sir Malcolm by this time had finished his third sloe gin and he saidfarewell with extreme affability, while his friend Mr. Carringtondropped into the manageress' room and explained that the poor young manhad seemed so nervous and depressed that he had advised his departurefor a quieter lodging. He added with great conviction that as a sportingman he would lay long odds on Sir Malcolm's innocence, and that betweenMiss Peterkin and himself he didn't believe a word of the currentscandals. 

That evening Mr. Carrington joined the choice spirits in the manageress'room, and they had a very long and entertaining gossip. The conversationturned this time chiefly on the subject of Mr. Simon Rattar, and if bythe end of it the agreeable visitor was not fully acquainted with thehistory of that local celebrity, of his erring partner, and of hisfather before him, it was not the fault of Miss Peterkin and herfriends. Nor could it fairly be said to be the visitor's fault either, for his questions were as numerous as they were intelligent. 

XXXI

THE LETTER AGAIN

On the morning after Sir Malcolm's fleeting visit to the Kings Arms, themanageress was informed by her friend Mr. Carrington that he would likea car immediately after breakfast. 

"I really must be a little more energetic, or I'll never find anythingto suit me, " he smiled in his most leisurely manner. "I am thinking ofrunning out to Keldale to have another look at the place. It might beworth taking if they'd let it. "

"But you've been to Keldale already, Mr. Carrington!" said MissPeterkin. "I wonder you don't have a look at one of the other places. "

"I'm one of those fellows who make up their minds slowly, " he explained. "But when we cautious fellows do make up our minds, well, somethinggenerally happens!"

Circumstances, however, prevented this enthusiastic sportsman frommaking any further enquiry as to the letting of the Keldale shootings. When Bisset appeared at the front door consternation was in his face. Itwas veiled under a restrained professional manner, but not sufficientlyto escape his visitor's eye. 

"What's up?" he asked at once. 

Bisset looked for a moment into his sympathetic face, and then in gravewhisper said:

"Step in, sir, and I'll tell ye. "

He led him into a small morning room, carefully closed the door, andannounced, "Miss Farmond has gone, sir!"

"Gone. When and how?"

"Run away, sir, on her bicycle yesterday afternoon and deil a sign ofher since!"

"Any luggage?"

"Just a wee suit case. "

"No message left, or anything of that kind?"

"Not a word or a line, sir. "

"The devil!" murmured Carrington. 

"That's just exac'ly it, sir!"

"No known cause? No difficulty with Lady Cromarty or anything?"

"Nothing that's come to my ears, sir. "

Carrington stared blankly into space and remained silent for severalminutes. Bisset watched his assistant with growing anxiety. 

"Surely, sir, " he burst forth at last, "you're not thinking this goes toindicate any deductions or datas showing she's guilty?"

"I'm dashed if I know what to think, " murmured Carrington still lost inthought. 

Suddenly he turned his eyeglass on the other. 

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, "the day before yesterday I passed that girlriding on a bicycle towards Keldale House after dark! Do you know whereshe had been?"

"Into the town, sir. I knew she was out, of course, and she justmentioned afterwards where she had been. "

"Have you any idea whom she saw or what she did?"

Bisset shook his head. 

"I have no datas, sir, that's the plain fac'. "

"But you can't think of any likely errand to take her in so late in theafternoon?"

"No, sir. In fact, I mind thinking it was funny like her riding aboutalone in the dark like yon, for she's feared of being out by hersel' inthe dark; I know that. "

Carrington reflected for a few moments longer and then seemed to dismissthe subject. 

"By the way, " he asked, "can you remember if, by any chance, SirReginald had any difficulty or trouble or row of any kind with anyonewhatever during, say, the month previous to his death? I mean with anyof the tenants, or his tradesmen--or his lawyer? Take your time andthink carefully. "

 * * * * *

Carrington dismissed his car at Mr. Rattar's office. When he was showninto the lawyer's room, he exhibited a greater air of keenness thanusual. 

"Well, Mr. Rattar, " said he, "you'll be interested to hear that I've gotrather a new point of view with regard to this case. "

"Indeed?" said Simon, and his lips twitched a little as he spoke. Therewas no doubt that he was not looking so well as usual. His face hadseemed drawn and worried last time Carrington had seen him; now itmight almost be termed haggard. 

"I find, " continued Carrington, "that Sir Reginald displayed a curiousand unaccountable irritability before his death. I hear, for instance, that a letter from you had upset him quite unduly. "

Carrington paused for an instant, and his monocle was full on Simon allthe time, and yet he did not seem to notice the very slight but distinctstart which the lawyer gave, for he continued with exactly the sameconfidential air. 

"These seem to me very suggestive symptoms, Mr. Rattar, and I amwondering very seriously whether the true solution of his mysteriousdeath is not--" he paused for an instant and then in a low and earnestvoice said, "suicide!"

There was no mistake about the lawyer's start this time, or about thecurious fact that the strain seemed suddenly to relax, and a look ofrelief to take its place. And yet Carrington seemed quite oblivious toanything beyond his own striking new theory. 

"That's rather a suggestive idea, isn't it?" said he. 

"Very!" replied Simon with the air of one listening to a revelation. 

"How he managed to inflict precisely those injuries on himself is atpresent a little obscure, " continued Carrington, "but no doubt a reallyexpert medical opinion will be able to suggest an explanation. Thetheory fits all the other facts remarkably, doesn't it?"

"Remarkably, " agreed Simon. 

"This letter of yours, for instance, was a very ordinary businesscommunication, I understand. "

"Very ordinary, " said Simon. 

"Of course, you have a copy of it in your letter book--and also SirReginald's reply?"

There was a moment's pause and then Simon's grunt seemed to be forcedout of himself. But he followed the grunt with a more assured, "Certainly. "

"May I see them?"

"You--you think they are important?"

"As bearing on Sir Reginald's state of mind only. "

Simon rang his bell and ordered the letter book to be brought in. WhileCarrington was examining it, his eyes never left his visitor's face, butthey would have had to be singularly penetrating to discover a trace ofany emotion there. Throughout his inspection, Carrington's air remainedas imperturbable as though he were reading the morning paper. 

"According to these letters, " he observed, "there seems to have been atrifling but rather curious misunderstanding. In accordance with writteninstructions of a fortnight previously, you had arranged to let acertain farm to a certain man, and Sir Reginald then complained that youhad overlooked a conversation between those dates in which he hadcancelled these instructions. He writes with a warmth that clearlyindicates his own impression that this conversation had been perfectlyexplicit and that your forgetfulness or neglect of it was unaccountable, and he proposes to go into this and one or two other matters in thecourse of a conversation with you which should have taken place thatafternoon. You then reply that you are too busy to come out so soon, butwill call on the following morning. In the meantime Sir Reginald ismurdered, and so the conversation never takes place and no explanationpasses between you. Those are the facts, aren't they?"

He looked up from the letter book as he spoke and there was no doubt henoticed something now. Indeed, the haggard look on Simon's face and abead of perspiration on his forehead were so striking, and so singularin the case of such a tough customer, that the least observant--or themost circumspect--must have stared. Carrington's stare lasted only forthe fraction of a second, and then he was polishing his eyeglass withhis handkerchief in the most indifferent way. 

A second or two passed before Simon answered, and then he said abruptly:

"Sir Reginald was mistaken. No such conversation. "

"Do you mean to tell me literally that _no_ such conversation tookplace? Was it a mere delusion?"

"Er--practically. Yes, a delusion. "

"Suicide!" declared Carrington with an air of profound conviction. "Yes, Mr. Rattar, that is evidently the solution. The unfortunate manhad clearly not been himself, probably for some little time previously. Well, I'll make a few more enquiries, but I fancy my work is nearly atan end. Good-morning. "

He rose and was half way across the room, when he stopped and asked, asif the idea had suddenly occurred to him:

"By the way, I hear that Miss Farmond was in seeing you a couple of daysago. "

Again Simon seemed to start a little, and again he hesitated for aninstant and then replied with a grunt. 

"Had she any news?" asked the other. 

Simon grunted again and shook his head, and Carrington threw him afriendly nod and went out. 

He maintained the same air till he had turned down a bye street and wasalone, and only then he gave vent to his feelings. 

"I'm dashed!" he muttered, "absolutely jiggered!"

All the while he shook his head and slashed with his walking stickthrough the air. There was no doubt that Mr. Carrington was thoroughlyand genuinely puzzled. 

XXXII

THE SYMPATHETIC STRANGER

Carrington's soliloquy was interrupted by the appearance of someone onthe pavement ahead of him. He pulled himself together, took out hiswatch, and saw that it was still only twenty minutes past twelve. Afterthinking for a moment, he murmured:

"I might as well try 'em!"

And thereupon he set out at a brisk walk, and a few minutes later wascloseted with Superintendent Sutherland in the Police Station. He beganby handing the Superintendent a card with the name of Mr. F. T. Carrington on it, but with quite a different address from that on thecard he had sent up to Mr. Rattar. It was, in fact, his business card, and the Superintendent regarded him with respectful interest. 

After explaining his business and his preference for not disclosing itto the public, he went briefly over the main facts of the case. 

"I see you've got them all, sir, " said the Superintendent, when he hadfinished. "There really seems nothing to add and no new light to be seenanywhere. "

"I'm afraid so, " agreed Carrington. "I'm afraid so. "

In fact he seemed so entirely resigned to this conclusion that heallowed, and even encouraged, the conversation to turn to other matters. The activity and enterprise of the Procurator Fiscal seemed to haveparticularly impressed him, and this led to a long talk on the subjectof Mr. Simon Rattar. The Superintendent was also a great admirer of theFiscal and assured Mr. Carrington that not only was Mr. Simon himselfthe most capable and upright of men, but that the firm of Rattar hadalways conducted its business in a manner that was above reproach. Mr. Carrington had made one or two slightly cynical but perfectlygood-natured comments on lawyers in general, but he got no countenancefrom the Superintendent so far as Mr. Rattar and his business wereconcerned. 

"But hadn't he some trouble at one time with his brother?" his visitorenquired. 

The Superintendent admitted that this was so, and also that Sir ReginaldCromarty had suffered thereby, but he was quite positive that thistrouble was entirely a thing of the past. There was no doubt that thisinformation had a somewhat depressing effect even on the good-humouredMr. Carrington, and at last he confessed with a candid air:

"The fact is, Superintendent, that I have a theory Sir Reginald wasworrying about something before his death, and as all his businessaffairs are conducted by Mr. Rattar, I was wondering whether he had anydifficulties in that direction. Now about this bad brother of Mr. Rattar's--there couldn't be trouble still outstanding, you think?"

"Mr. George Rattar was out of the firm, sir, years ago, " theSuperintendent assured him. "No, it couldna be that. "

"And Mr. George Rattar certainly died a short time ago, did he?"

"I can show you the paper with his death in it. I kept it as a kind ofrecord of the end of him. "

He fetched the paper and Carrington after looking at it for a fewminutes, remarked:

"I see here an advertisement stating that Mr. Rattar lost a ring. "

"Yes, " said the Superintendent, "that was a funny thing because it's notoften a gentleman loses a ring off his hand. I've half wondered sincewhether it was connected with a story of Mr. Rattar's maid that hishouse had been broken into. "

"When was that?"

"Curiously enough it was the very night Sir Reginald was murdered. "

Carrington's chair squeaked on the floor as he sat up sharply. 

"The very night of the murder?" he repeated. "Why has this never comeout before?"

The stolid Superintendent looked at him in surprise. 

"But what connection could there possibly be, sir? Mr. Rattar thoughtnothing of it himself and just mentioned it so that I would know it wasa mere story, in case his servants started talking about it. "

"But you yourself seemed just now to think that it might not be a merestory. "

"Oh, that was just a kind o' idea, " said the Superintendent easily. "Itonly came in my mind when the ring was never recovered. "

"What were the exact facts?" demanded Carrington. 

"Oh, " said the Superintendent vaguely, "there was something about awindow looking as if it had been entered, but really, sir, Mr. Rattarpaid so little attention to it himself, and we were that taken up by theKeldale case that I made no special note of it. "

"Did the servants ever speak of it again?"

"Everybody was that taken up about the murder that I doubt if they'veminded on it any further. "

Carrington was silent for a few moments. 

"Are the servants intelligent girls?" he enquired. 

"Oh, quite average intelligent. In fact, the housemaid is a particulardecent sort of a girl. "

At this point, Mr. Carrington's interest in the subject seemed to wane, and after a few pleasant generalities, he thanked the Superintendent forhis courtesy, and strolled down to the hotel for lunch. This time hisair as he walked was noticeably brisker and his eye decidedly brighter. 

About three o'clock that afternoon came a ring at the front door bell ofMr. Simon Rattar's commodious villa. Mary MacLean declared afterwardsthat she had a presentiment when she heard it, but then the poor girlhad been rather troubled with presentiments lately. When she opened thefront door she saw a particularly polite and agreeable looking gentlemanadorned with that unmistakeable mark of fashion, a single eyeglass; andthe gentleman saw a pleasant looking but evidently high strung andnervous young woman. 

"Is Mr. Simon Rattar at home?" he enquired in a courteous voice and witha soothing smile that won her heart at once; and on hearing that Mr. Rattar always spent the afternoons at his office and would not returnbefore five o'clock, his disappointment was so manifest that she feltsincerely sorry for him. 

He hesitated and was about to go away when a happy idea struck him. 

"Might I come in and write a line to be left for him?" he asked, andMary felt greatly relieved at being able to assist the gentleman toassuage his disappointment in this way. 

She led him into the library and somehow or other by the time she hadgot him ink and paper and pen she found herself talking to thisdistinguished looking stranger in the most friendly way. It was not thathe was forward or gallant, far from it; simply that he was so nice andso remarkably sympathetic. Within five minutes of making hisacquaintance, Mary felt that she could tell him almost anything. 

This sympathetic visitor made several appreciative remarks about thehouse and garden, and then, just as he had dipped his pen into the ink, he remarked:

"Rather a tempting house for burglars, I should think--if such peopleexisted in these peaceable parts. "

"Oh, but they do, sir, " she assured him. "We had one in this very houseone night!"

XXXIII

THE HOUSE OF MYSTERIES

The sympathetic stranger almost laid down his pen, he was so interestedby this unexpected reply. 

"What!" he exclaimed. "Really a burglary in this house? I say, howawfully interesting! When did it happen?"

"Well, sir, " said Mary in an impressive voice, "it's a mostextraordinary thing, but it was actually the very self same night of SirReginald's murder!"

So surprised and interested was the visitor that he actually did laydown his pen this time. 

"Was it the same man, do you think?" he asked in a voice that seemed tothrill with sympathetic excitement. 

"Indeed I've sometimes wondered!" said she. 

"Tell me how it happened!"

"Well, sir, " said Mary, "it was on the very morning that we heard aboutSir Reginald--only before we'd heard, and I was pulling up the blinds inthe wee sitting room when I says to myself. 'There's been some one in atthis window!'"

"The wee sitting room, " repeated her visitor. "Which is that?"

He seemed so genuinely interested that before she realised whatliberties she was taking in the master's house, she had led him into asmall sitting room at the end of a short passage leading out of thehall. It had evidently been intended for a smoking room or study whenthe villa was built, but was clearly never used by Mr. Rattar, for itcontained little furniture beyond bookcases. Its window looked on to theside of the garden and not towards the drive, and a grass lawn laybeneath it, while the room itself was obviously the most isolated, andfrom a burglarious point of view the most promising, on the groundfloor. 

"This is the room, sir, " said Mary. "And look! You still can see themarks on the sash. "

"Yes, " said the visitor thoughtfully, "they seem to have been made by atacketty boot. "

"And forbye that, there was a wee bit mud on the floor and a tacket markin that!"

"Was the window shut or open?"

"Shut, sir; and the most extraordinary thing was that it was snibbedtoo! That's what made the master say it couldna have been a burglar atall, or how did he snib the window after he went out again?"

"Then Mr. Rattar didn't believe it was a burglar?"

"N--no, sir, " said Mary, a little reluctantly. 

"Was anything stolen?"

"No, sir; that was another funny thing. But it must have been aburglar!"

"What about the other windows, and the doors? Were they all fastened inthe morning?"

"Yes, sir, it's the truth they were, " she admitted. 

"And what did Mr. Rattar do with the piece of mud?"

"Just threw it out of the window. "

The sympathetic stranger crossed to the window and looked out. 

"Grass underneath, I see, " he observed. "No footprints outside, Isuppose?"

"No, sir. "

"Did the police come down and make enquiries?"

"Well, sir, the master said he would inform the pollis, but then camethe news of the murder, and no one had any thoughts for anything elseafter that. "

The sympathetic visitor stood by the window very thoughtfully for a fewmoments, and then turned and rewarded her with the most charming smile. 

"Thank you awfully for showing me all this, " said he. "By the way, what's your name?" She told him and he added with a still nicer smile, "Thank you, Mary!"

They returned to the library and he sat down before the table again, butjust as he was going to pick up the pen a thought seemed to strike him. 

"By the way, " he said, "I remember hearing something about the loss of aring. The burglar didn't take that, did he?"

"Oh, no, sir, I remember the advertisement was in the paper before thenight of the burglary. "

He opened his eyes and then smiled. 

"Brilliant police you've got!" he murmured, and took up the pen again. 

"There was another burglar here and he might have taken it!" said Maryin a low voice. 

The visitor once more dropped the pen and looked up with a start. 

"Another burglar!" he exclaimed. 

"Well, sir, this one didn't actually burgle, but--"

She thought of the master if he chanced to learn how she had beengossiping, and her sentence was cut short in the midst. 

"Yes, Mary! You were saying?" cooed the persuasive visitor, and Marysuccumbed again and told him of that night when a shadow moved into thetrees and footprints were left in the gravel outside the library window, and the master looked so strangely in the morning. Her visitor was sointerested that once she began it was really impossible to stop. 

"How very strange!" he murmured, and there was no doubt he meant it. 

"But about the master's ring, sir--" she began. 

"You say he looked as though he were being _watched_?" he interrupted, but it was quite a polite and gentle interruption. 

"Yes, sir; but the funny thing about losing the ring was that he nevercould get it off his finger before! I've seen him trying to, but oh, itwouldn't nearly come off!"

Again he sat up and gazed at her. 

"Another mystery!" he murmured. "He lost a ring which wouldn't come offhis finger? By Jove! That's very rum. Are there any more mysteries, Mary, connected with this house?"

She hesitated and then in a very low voice answered:

"Oh, yes, sir; there was one that gave me even a worse turn!"

By this time her visitor seemed to have given up all immediate thoughtsof writing his note to Mr. Rattar. He turned his back to the table andlooked at her with benevolent calm. 

"Let's hear it, Mary, " he said gently. 

And then she told him the story of that dreadful night when the unknownvisitor came for the box of old papers. He gazed at her, listening veryattentively, and then in a soothing voice asked her several questions, more particularly when all these mysterious events occurred. 

"And are these all your troubles now, Mary?" he enquired. 

He asked so sympathetically that at last she even ventured to tell himher latest trouble. Till he fairly charmed it out of her, she had shrunkfrom telling him anything that seemed to reflect directly on her masteror to be a giving away of his concerns. But now she confessed that Mr. Rattar's conduct, Mr. Rattar's looks, and even Mr. Rattar's veryinfrequent words had been troubling her strangely. How or why his looksand words should trouble her, she knew not precisely, and his conduct, generally speaking, she admitted was as regular as ever. 

"You don't mean that just now and then he takes a wee drop too much?"enquired her visitor helpfully. 

"Oh, no, sir, " said she, "the master never did take more than what agentleman should, and he's not a smoking gentleman either--quite aprinciple against smokers, he has, sir. Oh, it's nothing like that!"

She looked over her shoulder fearfully as though the walls might repeather words to the master, as she told him of the curious and disturbingthing. Mr. Rattar had been till lately a gentleman of the most exacthabits, and then all of a sudden he had taken to walking in his gardenin a way he never did before. First she had noticed him, about the timeof the burglary and the removal of the papers, walking there in themornings. That perhaps was not so very disturbing, but since then he hadchanged this for a habit of slipping out of the house every night--everysingle night!

"And walking in the garden!" exclaimed Mr. Carrington. 

"Sometimes I've heard his footsteps on the gravel, sir! Even when it hasbeen raining I've heard them. Perhaps sometimes he goes outside thegarden, but I've never heard of anyone meeting him on the road orstreets. It's in the garden I've heard the master's steps, sir, and ifyou had been with him as long as I've been, and knew how regular hishabits was, you'd know how I'm feeling, sir!"

"I do know, Mary; I quite understand, " Mr. Carrington assured her in hissoothing voice, and there could be no doubt he was wondering just ashard as she. 

"What o'clock does he generally go out?" he asked. 

"At nine o'clock almost exactly every night, sir!"

Mr. Carrington looked thoughtfully out of the window into the garden, and then at last looked down at the ink and paper and pen. Not a wordwas written on the paper yet. 

"Look here, Mary, " he said very confidentially. "I am a friend of Mr. Rattar's and I am sure you would like me to try and throw a little lighton this. Perhaps something is troubling him and I could help you toclear it up. "

"Oh, sir, " she cried, "you are very kind! I wish you could!"

"Perhaps the best thing then, " he suggested, "would be for me not toleave a note for him after all, and for you not even to mention that Ihave called. As he knows me pretty well he would be almost sure to askyou whether I had come in and if I had left any message and so on, andthen he might perhaps find out that we had been talking, and thatwouldn't perhaps be pleasant for you, would it?"

"Oh, my! No, indeed, it wouldn't!" she agreed. "I'm that feared of themaster, sir, I'd never have him know I had been talking about him, orabout anything that has happened in this house!"

So, having come to this judicious decision, Mr. Carrington wished Marythe kindest of farewells and walked down the drive again. There could beno question he had plenty to think about now, though to judge from hisexpression, it seemed doubtful whether his thoughts were very clear. 

XXXIV

A CONFIDENTIAL CONVERSATION

The laird of Stanesland strode into the Kings Arms and demanded:

"Mr. Carrington? What, having a cup of tea in his room? What's hisnumber? 27--right! I'll walk right up, thanks. "

He walked right up, made the door rattle under his knuckles and strodejauntily in. There was no beating about the bush with Mr. Cromartyeither in deed or word. 

"Well, Mr. Carrington, " said he, "don't trouble to look surprised. Iguess you've seen right through me for some time back. "

"Meaning--?" asked Carrington with his engaging smile. 

"Meaning that I'm the unknown, unsuspected, and mysterious person who'sputting up the purse. Don't pretend you haven't tumbled to that!"

"Yes, " admitted Carrington, "I have tumbled. "

"I knew my sister had given the whole blamed show away! I take it youput your magnifying glass back in your pocket after your trip out toStanesland?"

"More or less, " admitted Carrington. 

"Well, " said Ned, "that being so, I may as well tell you what my ideawas. It mayn't have been very bright; still there was a kind of methodin my madness. You see I wanted you to have an absolutely clear fieldand let you suspect me just as much as anybody else. "

"In short, " smiled Carrington, "you wanted to start with the otherhorses and not just drop the flag. "

"That's so, " agreed Ned. "But when my sister let out about that £1200, and I saw that you must have spotted me, there didn't seem much point inkeeping up the bluff, when I came to think it over. And since then, Mr. Carrington, something has happened that you ought to know and I decidedto come and see you and talk to you straight. "

"What has happened?"

Ned smiled for an instant his approval of this prompt plunge intobusiness, and then his face set hard. 

"It's a most extraordinary thing, " said he, "and may strike you ashardly credible, but here's the plain truth put shortly. Yesterdayafternoon Miss Farmond ran away. " Carrington merely nodded, and heexclaimed, "What! You know then?"

"I learned from Bisset this morning. "

"Ah, I see. Did you know I'd happened to see her start and gone afterher and brought her back?"

Carrington's interest was manifest. 

"No, " said he, "that's quite news to me. "

"Well, I did, and I learnt the whole story from her. You can't guess whoadvised her to bolt?"

"I think I can, " said Carrington quietly. 

"Either you're on the wrong track, or you've cut some ice, Mr. Carrington. It was Simon Rattar!"

"I thought so. "

"How the devil did you guess?"

"Tell me Miss Farmond's story first and I'll tell you how I guessed. "

"Well, she spotted you were a detective--"

Carrington started and then laughed. 

"Confound these women!" said he. "They're so infernally independent ofreason, they always spot things they shouldn't!"

"Then she discovered she was suspected and so she got in a stew, poorgirl, and went to see Rattar. Do you know what he told her? That I wasemploying you and meant to convict Sir Malcolm and her and hang themwith my own hands!"

"The old devil!" cried Carrington. "Well, no wonder she bolted, Mr. Cromarty!"

"But even that was done by Simon's advice. He actually gave her anaddress in London to go to. "

"Pretty thorough!" murmured Carrington. 

"Now what do you make of that? And what ought one to do? And, by theway, how did you guess Simon was at the bottom of it?"

Carrington leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment beforeanswering. 

"We are in pretty deep waters, Mr. Cromarty, " he said slowly. "As towhat I make of it--nothing as yet. As to what we are to do--also nothingin the meantime. But as to how I guessed, well I can tell you this much. I had to get information from someone, and so I called on Mr. Rattar andtold him who I was--in strict confidence, by the way, so that he had nobusiness to tell Miss Farmond or anybody else. I had started off, I maysay, with a wrong guess: I thought Rattar himself was probably either myemployer or acting for my employer, and when I suggested this he told meI was right. "

"What!" shouted Ned. "The grunting old devil told you that?" He staredat the other for a moment, and then demanded, "Why did he tell you thatlie?"

"Fortune played my cards for me. Quite innocently and unintentionally. Itempted him. I said if I could be sure he was my employer I'd keep himin touch with everything I was doing. I had also let him know that myemployer had made it an absolute condition that his name was not toappear. He evidently wanted badly to know what I was doing, and thoughthe was safe not to be given away. "

"Then have you kept him in touch with everything you have done?"

Carrington smiled. 

"I tell you, Mr. Cromarty, my cards were being played for me. Fiveminutes later I asked him who benefited by the will and I learned thatyou had scored the precise sum of £1200. "

"I hadn't thought of that when I made my limit £1200!" exclaimed Ned. "Lord, you must have bowled me out at once! Of course, you spotted thecoincidence straight off?"

"But Rattar didn't! I pushed it under his nose and he didn't see it!Inside of one second I'd asked myself whether it was possible for anastute man like that not to notice such a coincidence supposing he hadreally guaranteed me exactly that sum--an extraordinarily large andcurious sum too. "

"I like these simple riddles, " said Ned with a twinkle in his singleeye. "I guess your answer to yourself was 'No!'"

Carrington nodded. 

"That's what I call having my cards played for me. I knew then that theman was lying; so I threw him off the scent, changed the subject, anddid _not_ keep Mr. Simon Rattar in touch with any single thing I didafter that. "

"Good for you!" said Ned. 

"Good so far, but the next riddle wasn't of the simple kind--or else I'meven a bigger ass than I endeavour to look! What was the man's game?"

"Have you spotted it yet?"

Carrington shook his head. 

"Mr. Simon Rattar's game is the toughest proposition in the way ofpuzzles I've ever struck. While I'm at it I'll just tell you one or twoother small features of that first interview. "

He lit a cigarette and leant over the arm of his chair towards hisvisitor, his manner growing keener as he talked. 

"I happened to have met Miss Farmond that morning and my interview hadknocked the bottom out of the story that she was concerned in the crime. I had satisfied myself also that she was not engaged to Sir Malcolm. "

"How did you discover that?" exclaimed Ned. 

"Her manner when I mentioned him. But I found that old Rattar was wrongon both these points and apparently determined to remain wrong. Ofcourse, it might have been a mere error of judgment, but at the sametime he had no evidence whatever against her, and it seemed to suggest acurious bias. And finally, I didn't like the look of the man. "

"And then you came out to see me?"

"I went out to Keldale House first and then out to you. I nextinterviewed Sir Malcolm. "

"Interviewed Malcolm Cromarty!" exclaimed Ned. "Where?"

"He came up to see me, " explained Carrington easily, "and the gentlemanhad scarcely spoken six sentences before I shared your opinion of him, Mr. Cromarty--a squirt but not homicidal. He gave me, however, one veryinteresting piece of information. Rattar had advised him to keep awayfrom these parts, and for choice to go abroad. I need hardly ask whetheryou consider that sound advice to give a suspected man. "

"Seems to me nearly as rotten advice as he gave Miss Farmond. "

"Exactly. So when I heard that Miss Farmond had flown and discovered shehad paid a visit to Mr. Rattar the previous day, I guessed who had givenher the advice. "

Carrington sat back in his chair with folded arms and looked at hisemployer with a slight smile, as much as to say, "Tell me the rest ofthe story!" Cromarty returned his gaze in silence, his heaviest frownupon his brow. 

"It seems to me, " said Ned at last, "that Simon Rattar is mixed up inthis business--sure! He has something to hide and he's trying to putpeople off the scent, I'll lay my bottom dollar!"

"What is he hiding?" enquired Carrington, looking up at the ceiling. 

"What do you think?"

Carrington shook his head, his eyes still gazing dreamily upwards. 

"I wish to Heaven I knew what to think!" he murmured; and then heresumed a brisker air and continued, "I am ready to suspect Simon Rattarof any crime in the calendar--leaving out petty larceny and probablybigamy. But he's the last man to do either good or evil unless he saw adividend at the end, and where does he score by taking any part orparcel in conniving at or abetting or concealing evidence or anythingelse, so far as this particular crime is concerned? He has lost his bestclient, with whom he was on excellent terms and whose family he hadserved all his life, and he has now got instead an unsatisfactory youngass whom he suspects, or says he suspects, of murder, and who soloathes Rattar that, as far as I can judge, he will probably take hisbusiness away from him. To suspect Rattar of actually conniving at, ortaking any part in the actual crime itself is, on the face of it, toconvict either Rattar or oneself of lunacy!"

"I knew Sir Reginald pretty well, " said Ned, "but of course I didn'tknow much about his business affairs. He hadn't been having any troublewith Rattar, had he?"

Carrington threw him a quick, approving glance. 

"We are thinking on the same lines, " said he, "and I have unearthed onevery odd little misunderstanding, but it seems to have been nothing morethan that, and, apart from it, all accounts agree that there was notrouble of any kind or description. "

He took a cigarette out of his case and struck a match. 

"There must be _some_ motive for everything one does--even for smokingthis cigarette. If I disliked cigarettes, knew smoking was bad for me, and stood in danger of being fined if I was caught doing it, why shouldI smoke? I can see no point whatever in Rattar's taking the smallestshare even in diverting the course of justice by a hair's breadth. Heand you and I have to all appearances identical interests in thematter. "

"You are wiser than I am, " said Ned simply, but with a grim look in hiseye, "but all I can say is I am going out with my gun to look for SimonRattar. "

Carrington laughed. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to catch him at something a little better knownto the charge-sheets than giving bad advice to a lady client, beforeit's safe to fire!" said he. 

"But, look here, Carrington, have you collected no other facts whateverabout this case?"

Carrington shot him a curious glance, but answered nothing else. 

"Oh well, " said Ned, "if you don't want to say anything yet, don't sayit. Play your hand as you think best. "

"Mr. Cromarty, " replied Carrington, "I assure you I don't want to makefacts into mysteries, but when they _are_ mysteries--well, I like tothink 'em over a bit before I trust myself to talk. In the course ofthis very afternoon I've collected an assortment either of facts orfiction that seem to have broken loose from a travelling nightmare. "

"Mind telling where you got 'em?" asked Ned. 

"Chiefly from Rattar's housemaid, a very excellent but somewhathigh-strung and imaginative young woman, and how much to believe of whatshe told me I honestly don't know. And the more one can believe, theworse the puzzle gets! However, there is one statement which I hope tobe able to check. It may throw some light on the lady's veracitygenerally. Meantime I am like a man trying to build a house of what maybe bricks or may be paper bags. "

Ned rose with his usual prompt decision. 

"I see, " said he. "And I guess you find one better company than two atthis particular moment. I won't shoot Simon Rattar till I hear from you, though by Gad, I'm tempted to kick him just to be going on with! Butlook here, Carrington, if my services will ever do you the least bit ofgood--in fact, so long as I'm not actually in the way--just send me awire and I'll come straight. You won't refuse me that?"

Carrington looked at the six feet two inches of pure lean muscle andsmiled. 

"Not likely!" he said. "That's not the sort of offer I refuse. I won'thesitate to wire if there's anything happening. But don't count on it. Ican't see any business doing just yet. "

Ned held out his hand, and then suddenly said, "You don't see anybusiness doing just yet? But you feel you're on his track, sure! Now, don't you?"

Carrington glanced at him out of an eye half quizzical, half abstracted. 

"Whose track?" he asked. 

Ned paused for a second and then rapped out:

"Was it Simon himself?"

"If we were all living in a lunatic asylum, probably yes! If we wereliving in the palace of reason, certainly not--the thing's ridiculous!What we are actually living in, however, is--" he broke off and gazedinto space. 

"What?" said Ned. 

"A blank fog!"

XXXV

IN THE GARDEN

It was a few minutes after half past eight when Miss Peterkin chanced tomeet her friend Mr. Carrington in the entrance hall of the Kings Arms. He was evidently going out, and she noticed he was rather differentlyhabited from usual, wearing now a long, light top coat of a very darkgrey hue, and a dark coloured felt hat. They were not quite so becomingas his ordinary garb, she thought, but then Mr. Carrington looked thegentleman in anything. 

"Are you going to desert us to-night, Mr. Carrington?" asked themanageress. 

"I have a letter or two to post, " said he, "they are an excuse for astroll. I want a breath of fresh air. "

He closed the glass door of the hotel behind him and stood for a momenton the pavement in the little circle of radiance thrown by the light ofthe hall. Mr. Carrington's leisurely movements undoubtedly played nosmall part in the unsuspecting confidence which he inspired. Out of thelight he turned, strolling easily, down the long stretch of blackpavement with its few checkers of lamplight here and there, and theempty, silent street of the little country town at his side. It was avery dark, moonless night, and the air was almost quite still. Lookingupward, he could see a rare star or two twinkle, but all the rest of theHeavens were under cloud. Judging from his contented expression thenight seemed to please him. 

He passed the post office, but curiously enough omitted to drop anyletters into the box. The breath of fresh air seemed, in fact, to be hissole preoccupation. Moving with a slightly quickened stride, but stilleasily, he turned out of that street into another even quieter anddarker, and in a short time he was nearing the lights of the station. Hegave these a wide birth, however, and presently was strolling up a verysecluded road, with a few villas and gardens upon the one side, andblack space on the other. There for a moment he stopped and transferredsomething from the pocket of his inner coat into the pocket of his topcoat. It was a small compact article, and a ray of light from alamp-post behind him gleamed for an instant upon a circular metalorifice at one end of it. 

Before he moved on, he searched the darkness intently, before him andbehind, but saw no sign of any other passenger. And then he turned therim of his dark felt hat down over his face, stepped out briskly forsome fifty yards further, and turned sharply through an open gate. Onceagain he stopped and listened keenly, standing now in the shadow of thetrees beside the drive. In his dark top coat and with his hat turnedover his face he was as nearly invisible as a man could be, but eventhis did not seem to satisfy him, for in a moment he gently parted thebranches of the trees and pushed through the belt of planting to thelawn beyond. 

The villa of Mr. Simon Rattar was now half seen beyond the curving endof the belt that bounded the drive. It was dim against the night sky, and the garden was dimmer still. Carrington kept on the grass, followingthe outside of the trees, and then again plunged into them when theycurved round at the top of the drive. Pushing quietly through, hereached the other side, and there his expedition in search of fresh airseemed to have found its goal, for he leaned his back against a treetrunk, folded his arms, and waited. 

He was looking obliquely across a sweep of gravel, with the whole frontof the house full in view. A ray came from the fanlight over the frontdoor and a faint radiance escaped through the slats of the libraryblinds, but otherwise the villa was a lump of darkness in the dark. 

One minute after another passed without event and with scarcely even thefaintest sound. Then, all at once, a little touch of breeze sprang upand sighed overhead through the tree tops, and from that time on, therewas an alternation of utter silence with the sough of branches gentlystirred. 

From a church tower in the town came the stroke of a clock. Carringtoncounted nine and his eyes were riveted on the front door now. Barelytwo more minutes passed before it opened quietly; a figure appeared foran instant in the light of the hall, and then, as quietly, the doorclosed again. There was a lull at the moment, but Carrington could hearnot a sound. The figure must be standing very still on the doorstep, listening--evidently listening. And then the thickset form of SimonRattar appeared dimly on the gravel, crossing to the lawn beyond. Thepebbles crunched a little, but not very much. He seemed to be walkingwarily, and when he reached the further side he stood still again andCarrington could see his head moving, as though he were looking allround him through the night. 

But now the figure was moving again, coming this time straight for thehead of the belt of trees. Carrington had drawn on a pair of darkgloves, and he raised his arm to cover the lower part of his face, looking over it through the branches, and facing the silent owner of thegarden, till there were hardly three paces between them, the one on thelawn, the other in the heart of the plantation. 

And then when Simon was exactly opposite, he stopped dead. Carrington'sother hand slipped noiselessly into the pocket where he had dropped thatlittle article, but otherwise he never moved a muscle and he breathedvery gently. The man on the turf seemed to be doing something with hishands, but what, it was impossible to say. The hands would move into hispocket and then out again, till quite three or four minutes had passed, and then came a sudden flash of light. Carrington's right hand movedhalfway out of his pocket and then was stayed, for by the light of thematch he saw a very singular sight. 

Simon Rattar was not looking at him. His eyes were focussed just beforehis nose where the bowl of a pipe was beginning to glow. Carringtoncould hear the lips gently sucking, and then the aroma of tobacco camein a strong wave through the trees. Finally the match went out, and theglowing pipe began to move slowly along the turf, keeping close to theshelter of the trees. 

For a space Carrington stood petrified with wonder, and then, verycarefully and quite silently, he worked his way through the trees out onto the turf, and at once fell on his hands and knees. Had any one beenthere to see, they would have beheld for the next five minutes a strangeprocession of two slowly moving along the edge of the plantation; athickset man in front smoking a pipe and something like a great gorillastalking him from behind. This procession skirted the plantation nearlydown to the gate; then it turned at right angles, following the line oftrees that bordered the wall between the garden and the road; and thenagain at right angles when it had reached the further corner of Mr. Rattar's demesne. Simon was now in a secluded path with shrubs on eitherhand, and instead of continuing his tour, he turned at the end of thispath and paced slowly back again. And seeing this, the ape behind himsquatted in the shadow of a laurel and waited. 

A steady breeze was now blowing and the trees were sighing continuously. The sky at the same time cleared, and more and more stars came out tillthe eyes of the man behind the bush could follow the moving man from endto end of the path. The wind made the pipe smoke quickly, and presentlya shower of sparks showed that it was being emptied, and in a minute ortwo another match flashed and a second pipe glowed faintly. 

Backwards and forwards paced the lawyer, and backwards and forwardsagain, but for the space of nearly an hour from his first coming out, that was everything that happened; and then at last came a tapping ofthe bowl and more sparks flying abroad in the wind. The procession wasresumed, Simon in front, the ape-like form behind; but with a greaterspace between them this time as the night was clearer, and now they wereheading for the house. The lawyer's steps crunched lightly on the gravelagain, the front door opened and closed, and Carrington was alone in thegarden. 

Still crawling, he reached the shelter of the belt of trees and thenrose and made swiftly for the gate, and out into the road. As he passedunder a lamp, his face wore a totally new expression, compounded ofwonder, excitement, and urgent thought. He was walking swiftly, and hispace never slackened, nor did the keenness leave his face, till he wasback at the door of the Kings Arms Hotel. Before he entered, he took offhis hat and turned up the brim again, and his manner when he tapped atthe door of the manageress' room was perfectly sedate. He let it appear, however, that he had some slight matter on his mind. 

"What is the name of Mr. Rattar's head clerk?" he enquired. "An oldish, prim looking man, with side whiskers. "

"Oh, that will be Mr. Ison, " said the manageress. 

"I have just remembered a bit of business I ought to have seen aboutto-night, " he continued. "I can't very well call on Mr. Rattar himselfat this hour, but I was thinking of looking up Mr. Ison if I coulddiscover his whereabouts. "

"The boots will show you the way to his house, " said she, and rang thebell. 

While waiting for the boots, Mr. Carrington asked another casualquestion or two and learned that Mr. Ison had been in the office sincehe was a boy. No man knew the house of Rattar throughout its twogenerations better than Mr. Ison, said Miss Peterkin; and she rememberedafterwards that this information seemed to give Mr. Carrington peculiarsatisfaction. He seemed so gratified, indeed, that she wondered a littleat the time. 

And then the visitor and the boots set out together for the clerk'shouse, and at what hour her guest returned she was not quite sure. Theboots, it seemed, had been instructed to wait up for him, but she hadlong gone to bed. 

XXXVI

THE WALKING STICK

Had there been, next morning, any curious eyes to watch the conduct ofthe gentleman who had come to rent a sporting estate, they wouldprobably have surmised that he had found something to please his fancystrangely, and yet that some perplexity still persisted. They would alsohave put him down as a much more excitable, and even demonstrative, young man than they had imagined. On a lonely stretch of shore hard bythe little town he paced for nearly an hour, his face a record of thedebate within, and his cane gesticulating at intervals. 

Of a sudden he stopped dead and his lips moved in a murmuredejaculation, and then after standing stock still for some minutes, hemurmured again:

"Ten to one on it!"

His cane had been stationary during this pause. Now he raised it oncemore, but this time with careful attention. It was a light bamboo with asilver head. He looked at it thoughtfully, bent it this way and that, and then drove it into the sand and pressed it down. Though to theordinary eye a very chaste and appropriate walking stick for such agentleman as Mr. Carrington, the result of these tests seemed todissatisfy him. He shook his head, and then with an air of resolutionset out for the town. 

A little later he entered a shop where a number of walking sticks wereon view and informed the proprietor that he desired to purchasesomething more suitable for the country than the cane he carried. Infact, his taste seemed now to run to the very opposite extreme, for thepoints on which he insisted were length, stiffness, and a long and ifpossible somewhat pointed ferule. At last he found one to his mind, lefthis own cane to be sent down to the hotel, and walked out with his newpurchase. 

His next call was at Mr. Simon Rattar's villa. This morning heapproached it without any of the curious shyness he had exhibited on theoccasion of his recent visit. His advance was conducted openly up thedrive and in an erect posture, and he crossed the gravel space boldly, and even jauntily, while his ring was firmness itself. Mary answered thebell, and her pleasure at seeing so soon again the sympathetic gentlemanwith the eyeglass was a tribute to his tact. 

"Good morning, Mary, " said he, with an air that combined very happilythe courtesy of a gentleman with the freedom of an old friend, "Mr. Rattar is at his office, I presume. "

She said that he was, but this time the visitor exhibited neithersurprise nor disappointment. 

"I thought he would be, " he confessed confidentially, "and I have cometo see whether I couldn't do something to help you to get at the bottomof these troublesome goings on. Anything fresh happened?"

"The master was out in the garden again last night, sir!" said she. 

"Was he really?" cried Mr. Carrington. "By Jove, how curious! We reallymust look into that: in fact, I've got an idea I want you to help mewith. By the way, it sounds an odd question to ask about Mr. Rattar, buthave you ever seen any sign of a pipe or tobacco in the house?"

"Oh, never indeed!" said she. "The master has never been a smokinggentleman. Quite against smoking he's always been, sir. "

"Ever since you have known him?"

"Oh, and before that, sir. "

"Ah!" observed Mr. Carrington in a manner that suggested nothingwhatever. "Well, Mary, I want this morning to have a look round thegarden. "

Her eyes opened. 

"Because the master walks there at nights?"

He nodded confidentially. 

"But--but if he was to know you'd been interfering, sir--I mean whathe'd think was interfering, sir--"

"He shan't know, " he assured her. "At least not if you'll do what I tellyou. I want you to go now and have a nice quiet talk with cook for halfan hour--half an hour by the kitchen clock, Mary. If you don't look outof the window, you won't know that I'm in the garden, and then nobodycan blame you whatever happens. We haven't mentioned the word 'garden'between us--so you are out of it! Remember that. "

He smiled so pleasantly that Mary smiled back. 

"I'll remember, sir, " said she. "And cook is to be kept talking in thekitchen?"

"You've tumbled to it exactly, Mary. If neither of you see me, neitherof you know anything at all. "

She got a last glimpse of his sympathetic smile as she closed the door, and then she went faithfully to the kitchen for her talk with cook. Itwas quite a pleasant gossip at first, but half an hour is a long time tokeep talking, when one has been asked not to stop sooner, and it sohappened, moreover, that cook was somewhat busy that morning and beganat length to indicate distinctly that unless her friend had some matterof importance to communicate she would regard further verbiage withdisfavour. At this juncture Mary decided that twenty minutes waspractically as good as half an hour, and the conversation ceased. 

Passing out of the kitchen regions, Mary glanced towards a distantwindow, hesitated, and then came to another decision. Mr. Carringtonmust surely have left the garden now, so there was no harm in peepingout. She went to the window and peeped. 

It was only a two minutes' peep, for Mr. Carrington had not left thegarden, and at the end of that space of time something very disturbinghappened. But it was long enough to make her marvel greatly at hersympathetic friend's method of solving the riddle of the master'sconduct. When she first saw him, he seemed to be smoothing the earth inone of the flower beds with his foot. Then he moved on a few paces, stopped, and drove his walking stick hard into the bed. She saw him leanon it to get it further in and apparently twist it about a little. Andthen he withdrew it again and was in the act of smoothing the place whenshe saw him glance sharply towards the gate, and the next instant leapbehind a bush. Simultaneously the hum of a motor car fell on her ear, and Mary was out of the room and speeding upstairs. 

She heard the car draw up before the house and listened for the frontdoor bell, but the door opened without a ring and she marvelled andtrembled afresh. That the master should return in a car at this hour ofthe morning seemed surely to be connected with the sin she had connivedat. It swelled into a crime as she held her breath and listened. Shewished devoutly she had never set eyes on the insinuating Mr. Carrington. 

But there came no call for her, or no ringing of any bell; merely soundsof movement in the hall below, heard through the thrumming of thewaiting car. And then the front door opened and shut again and sheventured to the window. It was a little open and she could hear hermaster speak to the chauffeur as he got in. He was now wearing, shenoticed, a heavy overcoat. A moment more and he was off again, down thedrive, and out through the gates. When she remembered to look again forher sympathetic friend, he was quietly driving his walking stick oncemore into a flower bed. 

About ten minutes afterwards the front door bell rang and there stoodMr. Carrington again. His eye seemed strangely bright, she thought, buthis manner was calm and soothing as ever. 

"I noticed Mr. Rattar return, " he said, "and I thought I would like tomake sure that it was all right, before I left. I trust, Mary, that youhave got into no trouble on my account. "

She thought it was very kind of him to enquire. 

"The master was only just in and out again, " she assured him. 

"He came to get his overcoat, I noticed, " he remarked. 

Mr. Carrington's powers of observation struck her as very surprising forsuch an easy-going gentleman. 

"Yes, sir, that was all. "

"Well, I'm very glad it was all right, " he smiled and began to turnaway. "By the way, " he asked, turning back, "did he tell you where he isgoing to now?"

"He didn't see me, sir. "

"You didn't happen to overhear him giving any directions to thechauffeur, did you? I noticed you at an open window. "

For the first time Mary's sympathetic friend began to make her feel atrifle uncomfortable. His eyes seemed to be everywhere. 

"I thought I heard him say 'Keldale House, '" she confessed. 

"Really!" he exclaimed and seemed to muse for a moment. In fact, heappeared to be still musing as he walked away. 

Mary began to wonder very seriously whether Mr. Carrington was going toprove merely a fresh addition to the disquieting mysteries of thathouse. 

XXXVII

BISSET'S ADVICE

The short November afternoon was fading into a gusty evening, as NedCromarty drew near his fortalice. He carried a gun as usual, and asusual walked with seven league strides. Where the drive passed throughthe scrap of stunted plantation it was already dusk and the torturedboughs had begun their night of sighs and tossings. Beyond them, paledaylight lingered and the old house stood up still clear against abroken sky and a grey waste with flitting whitecaps all the way to thehorizon. He had almost reached the front door when he heard the sound ofwheels behind him. Pausing there, he spied a pony and a governess' car, with two people distinct enough to bring a sudden light into his eye. The pony trotted briskly towards the door, and he took a stride to meetthem. 

"Miss Farmond!" he said. 

A low voice answered, and though he could not catch the words, the tonewas enough for him. And then another voice said:

"Aye, sir, I've brought her over. "

"Bisset!" said he. "It's you, is it? Well, what's happened?"

He was lifting her out of the trap and not hesitating to hold her handa little longer than he had ever held it before, now that he could seeher face quite plainly and read what was in her eyes. 

"I've dared to come after all!" she said, with a little smile, whichseemed to hint that she knew the risk was over now. 

"I advised her vera strongly, sir, to come over with me to Stanesland, "explained her escort. "The young lady has had a trying experience atKeldale, and forby the fair impossibility of her stopping on under theunfortunate circumstances, I was of the opinion that the sea air wouldbe a fine change and the architectural features remarkably interesting. In fac', sir, I practically insisted that Miss Farmond had just got tocome. "

"Good man!" said Ned. "Come in and tell me the unfortunatecircumstances. " He bent over Cicely and in a lowered voice added:"Personally I call 'em fortunate--so long as they haven't been toobeastly for you!"

"It's all right now!" she murmured, and as they went up the steps hefound, somehow or other, her hand for an instant in his again. 

"If you'll stand by your pony for a moment, Bisset, I'll send out someone to take her, " he said with happy inspiration. 

But Mr. Bisset was not so easily shaken off. 

"She'll stand fine for a wee while, " he assured his host. "You'll be thebetter of hearing all about it from me. "

They went into the smoking room and the escort began forthwith. 

"The fact is, Mr. Cromarty, that yon man Simon Rattar is a fairdiscredit. Miss Farmond has been telling me the haill story of herrunning away, and your ain vera seasonable appearance and judiciousconduct, sir; which I am bound to say, Mr. Cromarty, is neither more norless than I'd have expectit of a gentleman of your intelligence. Weel, to continue, Miss Farmond acted on your advice--which would have been myown, sir, under the circumstances--and tellt her ladyship the plainfacts. Weel then----"

"And what did Lady Cromarty say to you?" demanded Ned. 

"Hardly a word. She simply looked at me and said she would send for Mr. Rattar. "

Not a whit rebuffed, Mr. Bisset straightway resumed his narrative. 

"A perfectly proper principle if the man was capable of telling thetruth. I'm no blaming her ladyship at that point, but where she departitfrom the proper principles of evidence----"

"When did Rattar come?"

"This morning, " said Cicely. "And--can you believe it?--he absolutelydenied that he had ever advised me to go away!"

"I can believe it, " said Ned grimly. "And I suppose Lady Cromartybelieved him?"

"God, but you're right, sir!" cried Bisset. "Your deductions areperfectly correct. Yon man had the impudence to give the haill thing aflat denial! And then naturally Miss Farmond was for off, but at firsther ladyship was no for letting her go. Indeed she went the length ofsending for me and telling me the young lady was not to be permitted toshift her luggage out of the house or use any conveyance. "

"But Bisset was splendid!" cried Cicely. "Do you know what the foolishman did? He gave up his situation and took me away!"

Bisset, the man, permitted a gleam of pleasure to illuminate his bluntfeatures; but Bisset, the philosopher, protested with some dignity. 

"It was a mere matter of principle, sir. Detention of luggage like yonis no legal. I tellt her ladyship flatly that she'd find herself aforethe Shirra', and that I was no going to abet any such proceedings. Ifurther informed her, sir, of my candid opinion of Simon Rattar, and Isaid plainly that he was probably meaning to marry her and get theestate under his thumb, and these were the kind o' tricks rascallylawyers took in foolish women wi'. "

"You told Lady Cromarty that!" exclaimed Ned. "And what did she say?"

"We had a few disagreeable passages, as it were, sir, " said thephilosopher calmly. "And then I borrowed yon trap and having advisedMiss Farmond to come to Stanesland and she being amenable, I justbrought her along to you. "

"Oh, it was on your advice then?"

"Yes, sir. "

Cicely and her host exchanged one fleeting glance and then lookedextremely unconscious. 

"She's derned wise!" said he to himself. 

He held out his hand to the gratified counsellor. 

"Well done, Bisset, you've touched your top form to-day, and I may tellyou I've been wanting some one like you badly for a long while, if youare willing to stay on with me. Put that in your pipe, Bisset, and smokeover it! And now, you know your way, go and get yourself some tea, and adrink of the wildest poison you fancy!"

Hardly was the door closed behind him than the laird put his fate to thetest as promptly and directly as he did most other things. 

"I want you to stop on too, Cicely--for ever. Will you?"

Her eyes, shyly questioning for a moment and then shyly tender, answeredhis question before her lips had moved, and it would have been hard toconvince them that the minutes which followed ever had a parallel withinhuman experience. 

A little later he confessed:

"Do you know, Cicely, I've always had a funky feeling that if I everproposed my glass eye would drop out!"

The next event was the somewhat sudden entry of Lilian Cromarty, andthat lady's self control was never more severely tested or brilliantlyvindicated. One startled glance, and then she was saying, briskly, andwith the old bright smile:

"A telegram for you, Ned. "

"Thanks, " said he. "By the way, here's the future Mrs. Ned--that's tosay if she doesn't funk it before the wedding. "

Lilian's welcome, Lilian's embrace, and Lilian's congratulations werealike perfect. Cicely wondered how people could ever have said thecritical things of her which some of her acquaintances were unkindenough to say at times. As to Bisset's dictum regarding the lady in thecastle, that was manifestly absurd on the face of it. Miss Cromarty wasclearly overjoyed to hear of her brother's engagement. 

"And now, Neddy dear!" cried the bright lady, "tell me how it all cameabout!"

Ned looked up from his telegram with a glint in his eye that was hardlya lover's glance. 

"Cicely will tell you all about it, " said he. "I'm afraid I've got to beoff pretty well as quick as I can. "

He handed them the wire and they read: "Meet me eight to-night KingsArms urgent. Carrington. "

"From Mr. Carrington!" exclaimed his sister. 

Ned smiled. 

"Cicely will explain him too, " he said. "By Gad, I wonder if this isgoing to be the finishing bit of luck!"

In another twenty minutes the lights of his gig lamps were raking thenight. 

XXXVIII

TRAPPED

Cromarty and Carrington slipped unostentatiously out of the hotel a fewminutes after eight o'clock. 

"Take any line you like, " said Carrington, "but as he knows now that youbrought Miss Farmond back and have heard her version, he'll naturally befeeling a little uncomfortable about the place where one generally getskicked, when he sees you march in. He will expect you to open out onthat subject, so if I were you I'd take the natural line of country anddo what he expects. "

"Including the kicking?"

Carrington laughed. 

"Keep him waiting for that. Spin it out; that's your job to-night. "

"I wish it were more than talking!" said Ned. 

"Well, " drawled Carrington, "it may lead to something more amusing. Whoknows? You haven't bought your own gun, I suppose? Take mine. "

He handed him the same little article he had taken out the night before, and Ned's eye gleamed. 

"What!" said he. "That kind of gun once more? This reminds me of oldtimes!"

"It's a mere precaution, " said the other. "Don't count on using it!Remember, you're going to visit the most respectable citizen of thetown--perhaps on a wild goose errand. "

"I guess not, " said Ned quietly. 

"We daren't assume anything. I don't want to make a fool of myself, andno more do you, I take it. "

"I see, " said Ned, with a nod. "Well, I'll keep him in his chair foryou. "

"That's it. "

They were walking quickly through the silent town under the windy nightsky. It was a dark boisterous evening, not inviting for strollers, andthey scarcely passed a soul till they were in the quiet road where thevilla stood. There, from the shadows of a gateway, two figures moved outto meet them, and Cromarty recognised Superintendent Sutherland and oneof his constables. The two saluted in silence and fell in behind. Theyeach carried, he noticed, something long-shaped wrapped up loosely insacking. 

"What have they got there?" he asked. 

"Prosaic instruments, " smiled Carrington. "I won't tell you more forfear the gamble doesn't come off. "

"Like the sensation before one proposes, I suppose, " said Ned. "Well, going by that, the omens ought to be all right. "

They turned in through Simon's gates and then the four stopped. 

"We part here, " whispered Carrington. "Good luck!"

"Same to you, " said Ned briefly, and strode up the drive. 

As he came out into the gravel sweep before the house, he looked hardinto the darkness of the garden, but beyond the tossing shapes of trees, there was not a sign of movement. 

"Mr. Rattar in?" he enquired. "Sitting in the library I suppose? Take meright to him. Cromarty's my name. "

"Mr. Cromarty to see you, sir, " announced Mary, and she was startled tosee the master's sudden turn in his chair and the look upon his face. 

"Whether he was feared or whether he was angered, I canna rightly say, "she told cook, "but anyway he looked fair mad like!"

"Good evening, " said Ned. 

His voice was restrained and dry, and as he spoke he strode across theroom and seated himself deliberately in the arm chair on the side of thefire opposite to the lawyer. 

Simon had banished that first look which Mary saw, but there remained inhis eyes something more than their usual cold stare. Each day sinceCarrington came seemed to have aged his face and changed it for theworse: a haggard, ugly, malicious face it seemed to his visitor lookinghard at it to-night. His only greeting was a briefer grunt thanordinary. 

"I daresay you can guess what's brought me here, " said Ned. 

The lawyer rapped out his first words jerkily. 

"No. I can't. "

"Try three guesses, " suggested his visitor. "Come now, number one----?"

For a moment Simon was silent, but to-night he could not hide theworking of that face which usually hid his thoughts so effectually. Itwas plain he hesitated what line to take. 

"You have seen Miss Farmond, I hear, " he said. 

"You're on the scent, " said his visitor encouragingly. "Have anothergo. "

"You believe her story. "

"I do. "

"It's false. "

Ned stared at him very hard and then he spoke deliberately. 

"I'm wondering, " said he. 

"Wondering what?" asked Simon. 

"Whether a horse whip or the toe of a shooting boot is the best cure foryour complaint. "

The lawyer shrank back into his chair. 

"Do you threaten me?" he jerked out. "Be careful!"

"If I threatened you I'd certainly do what I threatened, " said Ned. "Sofar I'm only wondering. Where did you learn to lie, Mr. Rattar?"

The lawyer made no answer at all. His mind seemed concentrated onguessing the other's probable actions. 

"Out with it, man! I've met some derned good liars in my time, but youbeat the lot. I'm anxious to know where you learned the trick, that'sall. "

"Why do you believe her more than me?" asked Simon. 

"Because you've been found out lying before. That was a pretty stiff oneabout your engaging Carrington, wasn't it?"

Simon was quite unable to control his violent start, and his face turnedwhiter. 

"I--I didn't say I did, " he stammered. 

"Well, " said Ned, "I admit I wasn't there to hear you, but I knowCarrington made you put your foot fairly in it just by way of helpinghim to size you up, and he got your size right enough too. "

"Then----" began Simon, and stopped and changed it into: "What doesCarrington suspect--er--accuse me of?"

Ned stared at him for several seconds without speaking, and thisprocedure seemed to disconcert the lawyer more than anything had doneyet. 

"What--what does Carrington mean?" he repeated. 

"He means you've lied, and he believes Miss Farmond, and he believes SirMalcolm, and he believes me, and he puts you down as a pretty bad egg. What did you expect to be accused of?"

Simon could no more hide his relief to-night than he could hide hisfears. 

"Only of what you have told me--only of course of what you say! But Ican explain. In good time I can explain. "

It was at that moment that the door opened sharply and the start thelawyer gave showed the state of his nerves after Mr. Cromarty'shandling. Mary MacLean stood in the doorway, her face twitching. 

"What's the matter?" snapped her master. 

"Please, sir, there are men in the garden!" she cried. 

The lawyer leapt to his feet. 

"Men in the garden!" he cried, and there was a note in his voice whichstartled even tough Ned Cromarty. "What are they doing?"

"I don't know, sir. It sounded almost as if they was digging. "

Simon swayed for an instant and grasped the back of his chair. Then in amuffled voice he muttered:

"I'm going to see!"

He had scarcely made a step towards the door when Cromarty was on hisfeet too. 

"Steady!" he cried. "Get out there, and shut the door!"

The towering form and formidable voice sent Mary out with a shut doorbetween them almost as the command was off his tongue. A couple ofstrides and he had got the lawyer by the shoulder and pulled him back. 

"Sit down!" he commanded. 

Simon turned on him with a new expression. The terror had passed awayand he stood there now as the sheer beast at bay. 

"Damn you!" he muttered, and turned his back for a moment. 

The next, his hand rose and simultaneously Ned's arm shot out and gothim by the wrist, while the shock of his onslaught drove the man backand down into his chair. Though Simon was tough and stoutly built, hewas as a child in the hands of his adversary. A sharp twist of the wristwas followed by an exclamation of pain and the thud of something heavyon the floor. Ned stooped and picked up the globular glass match boxthat had stood on the table. For a few moments he stared at it in deadsilence, balancing it in his hands. It was like a small cannon ball forconcentrated weight. Then in a curious voice he asked:

"Is this the first time you have used this?"

Simon made no reply. His face was dead white now, but dogged and grim, and his mouth stayed tight as a trap. Ned replaced the match box on thetable, and planted himself before the fire. 

"Nothing to say?" he asked, and Simon said nothing. 

They remained like this for minute after minute; not a movement in theroom and the booming of the wind the only sound. And then camefootsteps on the gravel and the ringing of a bell. 

"We'll probably learn something now, " said Ned, but the other still saidnothing, and only a quick glance towards the door gave a hint of histhoughts. 

There was no announcement this time. Superintendent Sutherland enteredfirst, then the constable, and Carrington last. The superintendent wentstraight up to the lawyer, his large face preternaturally solemn. Touching him on the shoulder he said:

"I arrest you in the King's name!"

The man in the chair half started up and then fell back again. 

"What for?" he asked huskily. 

"The murder of Simon Rattar. "

The lawyer took it as one who had seen the sword descending, but not soNed Cromarty. 

"Of Simon Rattar!" he shouted. "What the--then who the devil is this?"

Carrington answered. He spoke with his usual easy smile, but histriumphant eye betrayed his heart. 

"The superintendent has omitted part of the usual formalities, " he said. "This person should have been introduced as Mr. George Rattar. "

"George!" gasped Ned. "But I thought he was dead!"

"So did I, " said Carrington, "but he wasn't. "

"What proof have you of this story?" demanded the man in the chairsuddenly. 

"We have just dug up your brother's body from that flower bed, " saidCarrington quietly. "Do you recognise his ring?"

He held up a gold signet ring, and the lawyer fell back in his chair. 

"But look here!" exclaimed Ned, "what about Sir Reginald's murder? Hedid that too, I suppose!"

Carrington nodded. 

"We hope to add that to his account in a day or two. This is enough tobe going on with, but as a matter of fact we have nearly enough evidencenow to add the other charge. "

"I can add one bit, " said Ned, picking up the match box. "He has justtried to do me in with this little thing, and I take it, it was thethird time of using. "

Carrington weighed it in his hand, and then said to the prisoner:

"You put it in the end of a stocking, I suppose?"

The man looked up at him with a new expression in his eye. If it werenot a trace of grim humour, it was hard to say what else it could be. 

"Get me a drink, " he said huskily, nodding towards the tantalus on theside table, "and I'll tell you the whole damned yarn. My God, I'm dry asa damned bone!"

"Give me the key of the tantalus, " said Carrington promptly. 

But the superintendent seemed somewhat taken aback. 

"Anything you say may be used against you, " he reminded the prisoner. 

"You know enough to swing me, anyhow, " said Rattar, "but I'd like you toknow that I didn't really mean to do it. I want that drink firstthough!"

He took the glass of whisky and water and as he raised it to his lips, that same curious look came back into his eye. 

"Here's to the firm of S. And G. Rattar, and may their clients be asdamned as themselves!" he said with a glance at Cromarty, and finishedthe drink at a draught. 

XXXIX

THE YARN

"I needn't trouble you with my adventures before I came down here tovisit brother Simon, " began the prisoner, "for you know them wellenough. It was about a month ago when I turned up at this house onenight. "

"How did you get here?" demanded the superintendent. 

"I did the last bit under the seat of the carriage, " grinned Rattar, "and when we got into the station I hopped out on the wrong side of thetrain. The way I paid my fare wasn't bad either, considering I hadn'thalf of the fare from London in my pocket when I started--or anythinglike it. However, the point is I got here and just as I'd come throughthe gates I had the luck to see both the maids going out. So the coastwas clear. 

"Well, I rang the bell and out came Simon--the man who'd got meconvicted, and my own brother too, mind you!--looking as smug as thehard-hearted old humbug he was. He got the shock of his life when he sawwho it was, but I began gently and I put a proposition to him. I'll betnone of you will guess what it was!"

He looked round the company, and Carrington answered:

"Blackmail of some sort. "

"You may call it blackmail if you like, but what was the sort? Well, you'd never guess. I was wearing a beard and moustaches then, but I knewif I took them off I'd look so like Simon that no one meeting one of uswould know which it was, supposing we were dressed exactly alike and Idid Simon's grunting tricks and all that. And Simon knew it too. 

"'Well, Simon, my dear brother, ' I said to him, 'I'll make you asporting proposition. My idea is to settle down in this old place, andI'm so fond of you I mean to shave, get an outfit just like yours, andgive free rein to my affection for you. I'm so fond of you, ' I said, 'that I know I shan't be able to keep more than five yards away from youwhenever you are walking the streets, and I'll have to sit in churchbeside you, Simon. That's my present programme. '

"I let that sink in, and then I went on:

"'Supposing this programme embarrasses you, Simon, well there's one wayout of it, and I leave it to your judgment to say what it is. '

"Now, mind you, I'd banked on this coming off, for I knew what astickler Simon was for the respectable and the conventional and allthat. Can't you see the two of us going through the streets together, five yards apart and dressed exactly alike! Wouldn't the small boys haveliked it! That was my only idea in coming down here. I meant no moremischief, I'll swear to that! Unfortunately, though, I'd got so keen onthe scheme that I hadn't thought of its weak spot. 

"Simon said not a word, but just looked at me--exactly as I've beenlooking at people since I took his place in society. And then he askedme if I was really very hard up. Like a fool I told him the plain truth, that I had inside of five bob in my pockets and that was every penny Iowned in the world. 

"He grinned then--I can see him grinning now--and he said:

"'In that case you'll have a little difficulty in paying your board andlodging here, and still more in buying clothes. I tell you what I'lldo, ' he said, 'I'll buy a ticket back to London for you and leave itwith the stationmaster, and that's every penny you'll ever get out ofme!'

"I saw he had me, but I wasn't going off on those terms. I damned him tohis face and he tried to shut the door on me. We were talking at thefront door all this while, I may mention. I got my foot in the way, andas I was always a bit stronger than Simon, I had that door open after atussle and then I followed him into the library. 

"I knew the man was hard as flint and never showed mercy to any one inhis life when he had them on toast, and I knew he had me on toast. Howwas I to get any change out of him? That was what I was wondering as Ifollowed him, and then all at once something--the devil if youlike--put the idea into my head. I'd _be_ Simon!"

He looked round on his audience as though he still relished the memoryof that inspiration. 

"The beauty of the idea was that no one would ever dream of suspecting aman of not being himself! They might suspect him of a lot of things, butnot of that. I hadn't thought of the scheme ten seconds before Irealised how dead safe it was so long as I kept my head. And I have keptit. No one can deny that!"

His glance this time challenged a contradiction, but no one spoke. Thecircle of steadfast eyes and silent lips he seemed to take as a tributeto his address, for he smiled and then went on:

"Yes, I kept my head from the beginning. I stood talking to him in thisvery room, he refusing to answer anything except to repeat that he'd buya ticket to London and leave it with the stationmaster, and I workingout the scheme--what to do it with and how to manage afterwards. I knewit was a swinging risk, but against that was a starving certainty, andthen I spied that match box and the thing was settled. I got him to lookthe other way for a moment--and then he was settled. Give me anotherdrink!"

Carrington got him a drink and he gulped it down, and then turnedsuddenly on Ned Cromarty. 

"Your damned glass eye has been getting on my nerves long enough!" heexclaimed. "My God, that eye and your habit of hanging people--I've hadenough of them! Can't you turn it away from me?"

"Won't turn, " said Ned coolly, "spring broken. Get on with your story!"

Even in his privileged position as prisoner, Rattar seemed disinclinedto have trouble with his formidable ex-client. He answered nothing, butturned his shoulder to him and continued:

"After that was over I set about covering my tracks. The first part wasthe worst. Before the maids came back I had to get Simon stowed away forthe night--no time to bury him then of course, and I had to get into hisclothes, shave, and learn the lie of the house and all that. I did itall right and came down to breakfast next morning and passed muster withthe servants, and never a suspicion raised!"

"There was a little, " remarked Carrington, "but never enough. "

"Not enough was good enough!"

"I am not quite certain of that, " said Carrington. "However, go on. Yournext bunker was the office. "

The prisoner nodded. 

"It took some nerve, " he said complacently, "and I'm free to confessthat to begin with I always had a beastly feeling that some one waswatching me and spotting something that didn't look quite right, but, good Lord, keeping my head the way I kept it, there was nothing to worryabout! Who would ever think that the Simon Rattar who walked into hisoffice and grunted at his clerks on Wednesday morning, wasn't the sameSimon Rattar who walked in and grunted on Tuesday morning? And then Ihad one tremendous pull in knowing all the ropes from old days. Simonwas a conservative man, nothing was ever changed--not even the clerks, so I had the whole routine at my fingers. And he was an easy man toimitate too. That was where I scored again. I daresay I have inheritedsome of the same tricks myself. I know I found them come quite easy--thestare and the silence and the grunts and the rest of them. And then Ialways had more brains than Simon and could pick up business quicker. You should have heard me making that ass Malcolm Cromarty, and theFarmond girl, and this hangman with the glass eye tell me all aboutthemselves and what their business was, without their ever suspectingthey were being pumped! For, mind you, I'd never set eyes on MalcolmCromarty or the Farmond girl before in my life! No, it wasn't at theoffice I had the nastiest time. It was burying the body that night. "

The boastful smile died off his lips and for a moment he shivered alittle. 

"What happened about that?" enquired Carrington keenly. 

Rattar's voice instinctively fell a little. 

"When I got home that afternoon I found he wasn't quite dead after all!"

"That accounts for it!" murmured Carrington. 

"For what?"

"Your maid heard him moving. "

The prisoner seemed to have recovered from his passing emotion. 

"And I told her it was a rat, and she swallowed it!" he laughed. "Well, he didn't move for long, and I had fixed up quite a good scheme forgetting him out of the house. A man was to call for old papers. I evendid two voices talking in the hall to make the bluff complete! Not beingable to get his ring off his finger rather worried me, but I put thatright by an advertisement in the paper saying I'd lost it!"

He was arrested by the look on Carrington's face. 

"What happened?" he exclaimed. "Do you mean to say that gave me away?"

"Those superfluous precautions generally give people away. "

"But how?"

"It doesn't matter now. You'll learn later. What next?"

"Next?" said Rattar. "Well, I just went on keeping my head and bluffingpeople----" he broke off, looked at Superintendent Sutherland, and gavea short laugh. "I only lost my nerve a bit once, and that was when theglass-eyed hangman butted in and said he was going to get down adetective. It struck me then it was time I was off--and what's more, Istarted!"

The superintendent's mouth fell open. 

"You--you weren't the man----" he began. 

"Yes, " scoffed the prisoner, "I was the man with toothache in thatempty carriage. I'd got in at the wrong side after the ticket collectorpassed and just about twenty seconds before you opened the door. But thesight of your red face made me change my plans, and I was out againbefore that train started! A bright policeman you are! After that Idecided to stick it out and face the music; and I faced it. "

His mouth shut tight and he sat back in his chair, his eyes travellinground the others as though to mark their unwilling admiration. Hecertainly saw it in the faces of the two open-eyed policemen, butCromarty's was hard and set, and he seemed still to be waiting. 

"You haven't told us about Sir Reginald yet, " he said. 

Rattar looked at him defiantly. 

"No evidence there, " he said with a cunning shake of his head, "you cango on guessing!"

"Would you like to smoke a pipe?" asked Carrington suddenly. 

The man's eyes gleamed. 

"By God, yes!"

"You can have one if you tell us about Sir Reginald. We've got youanyhow, and there will be evidence enough there too when we've put ittogether. "

The superintendent looked a trifle shocked, but Carrington's sway overhim was by this time evidently unbounded. He coughed an official protestbut said nothing. 

The prisoner only hesitated for a moment. He saw Carrington taking out acigarette, and then he took out his keys and said:

"This is the key for that drawer. You'll find my pipe and baccy there. I'll tell you the rest. " And then he started and exclaimed: "But how theh-- did you know I smoked?"

"At five minutes past nine o'clock last night, " said Carrington, as hehanded him his pipe, "I was within three paces of you. "

The prisoner stared at him with a wry face. 

"You devil!" he murmured, and then added with some philosophy: "Afterall, I'd sooner be hanged than stop smoking. " And with that he lit hispipe. 

"You want to know about old Cromarty, " he resumed. "Well, I made myfirst bad break when I carried on a correspondence with him which Simonhad begun, not knowing they had had a talk between whiles cancelling thewhole thing. You know about it and about the letter Sir Reginald sent meafter I'd written. Well, when I got that letter I admit it rattled me abit. I've often wondered since whether he had really suspected anythingor whether he would have sooner or later. Anyhow I got it into my headthat the game was up if something didn't happen. And so it happened. "

"You went and killed him?" said Ned. 

"That's for you and your glass eye to find out!" snapped the prisoner. 

"Take his pipe away, " said Carrington quietly. 

"Damn it!" cried Rattar, "I'll tell you, only I'm fed up with that man'sbullying! I put it in a stocking" (he nodded towards the match box)"just as you guessed and I went out to Keldale that night. My God, whata walk that was in the dark! I'd half forgotten the way down to thehouse and I thought every other tree was a man watching me. I don't knowyet how I got to that library window. I remembered his ways and Ithought he'd be sitting up there alone; but it was just a chance, andI'd no idea I'd have the luck to pick a night when he was sleeping inhis dressing room. Give me another drink!"

Carrington promptly brought one and again it vanished almost in a gulp. 

"Well, I saw him through a gap in the curtains and I risked a tap on theglass. My God, how surprised he was to see me standing there! I grinnedat him and he let me in, and then----" He broke off and fell forward inhis chair with his face in his hands. "This whisky has gone to my head!"he muttered. "You've mixed it too damned strong!"

Ned Cromarty sprang up, his face working. Carrington caught him by thearm. 

"Let's come away, " he said quietly. "We've heard everything necessary. You can't touch him now. "

Cromarty let him keep his arm through his as they went to the door. 

"I'll send a cab up for you in a few minutes, " Carrington added to thesuperintendent. 

They left the prisoner still sitting muttering into his hands. 

XL

THE LAST CHAPTER

On their way down to the hotel Ned Cromarty only spoke once, and thatwas to exclaim:

"If I'd only known when I had him alone! Why didn't you tell me morebefore I went in?"

"For your own sake, " said Carrington gently. "The law is so devilishundiscriminating. Also, I wasn't absolutely certain then myself. "

They said nothing more till they were seated in Carrington's sittingroom and his employer had got a cigar between his teeth and pushed awayan empty tumbler. 

"I'm beginning to feel a bit better, " said he. "Fire away now and tellme how you managed this trick. I'd like to see just how derned stupidI've been!"

"My dear fellow, I assure you you haven't! I'm a professional at thisgame, and I tell you honestly it was at least as much good luck as goodguidance that put me on to the truth at last. "

"I wonder what you call luck, " said Ned. "Seems to me you were upagainst it all the time! You've told me how you caught Rattar lying atthe start. Well, that was pretty smart of you to begin with. Then, whatnext? How did things come?"

"Well, " said Carrington, "I picked up a little something on my firstvisit to Keldale. From Bisset's description I gathered that the bodymust have been dragged along the floor and left near the door. Why?Obviously as a blind. Adding that fact to the unfastened window, thebroken table, the mud on the floor, and the hearth brush, the oddsseemed heavy on entry by the window. I also found that the middle blindhad been out of order that night and that it _might_ have been quitepossible for any one outside to have seen Sir Reginald sitting in theroom and known he was alone there. Again, it seemed long odds on hishaving recognised the man outside and opened the window himself, which, again, pointed to the man being some one he knew quite well and neversuspected mischief from. "

"Those were always my own ideas, except that I felt bamboozled where youfelt clear--which shows the difference between our brains!"

Carrington laughed and shook his head. 

"I wish I could think so! No, no, it's merely a case of every man to hisown trade. And as a matter of fact I was left just as bamboozled as youwere. For who could this mysterious man be? Of the people inside thehouse, I had struck out Miss Farmond, Bisset, Lady Cromarty, and all thefemale servants. Only Sir Malcolm was left. I wired for him to come upand was able to score him out too. I also visited you and scored youout. So there I was--with no conceivable criminal!"

"But you'd already begun to suspect Rattar, hadn't you?"

"I knew he had lied about engaging me; I discovered from Lady Cromartythat he had told her of Sir Malcolm's engagement to Miss Farmond--and Isuspected he had started her suspicions of them; and I saw that he wasset on that theory, in spite of the fact that it was palpably improbableif one actually knew the people. Of course if one didn't, it wasplausible enough. When I first came down here it seemed to me a verylikely theory and I was prepared to find a guilty couple, but when I metMiss Farmond and told her suddenly that Sir Malcolm was arrested, andshe gazed blankly at me and asked 'What for?' well, I simply ran mypencil, so to speak, through her name and there was an end of her! Thesame with Sir Malcolm when I met him. And yet here was the familylawyer, who knew them both perfectly, so convinced of their guilt thathe was obviously stifling investigation in any other direction. And ontop of all that, all my natural instincts and intuitions told me thatthe man was a bad hat. "

"But didn't all that make you suspect him?"

"Of what? Of leaving his respectable villa at the dead of night, tramping several miles at his age in the dark, and deliberatelymurdering his own best client and old friend under circumstances sorisky to himself that only a combination of lucky chances saw himsafely through the adventure? Nothing--absolutely nothing but homicidalmania could possibly account for such a performance, and the man wasobviously as sane as you or I. I felt certain that there was somethingwrong somewhere, but as for suspecting him of being the principal in thecrime, the idea was stark lunacy!"

"By George, it was a tough proposition!" said Ned. "By the way, had youheard of George Rattar at that time?"

"Oh, yes, I heard of him, and knew they resembled one another, but as Iwas told that he had left the place for years and was now dead, mythoughts never even once ran in that direction until I got into a stateof desperation, and then I merely surmised that his misdeeds might havebeen at the bottom of some difficulty between Simon and Sir Reginald. "

"Then how on earth did you ever get on to the right track?"

"I never would have if the man hadn't given himself away. To begin with, he was fool enough to fall in with my perfectly genuine assumption thathe was either employing me or acting for my employer. No doubt he stoodto score if the bluff had come off, and he banked on your stipulationthat your name shouldn't appear. But if he had only been honest in thatmatter, my suspicions would never have started--not at that pointanyhow. "

"That was Providence--sure!" said Ned with conviction. 

"I'm inclined to think it was, " agreed Carrington. "Then again hisadvice to Sir Malcolm and Miss Farmond was well enough designed tofurther his own scheme of throwing suspicion on them, but it simplyended in his being bowled out both times, and throwing suspicion onhimself. But _the_ precaution which actually gave him away was puttingin that advertisement about his ring. "

"I was just wondering, " said Ned, "how that did the trick. "

"By the merest fluke. I noticed it when I was making enquiries at thePolice Office on quite different lines, but you can imagine that Iswitched off my other enquiries pretty quick when SuperintendentSutherland calmly advanced the theory that the ring was stolen whenRattar's house was entered by some one unknown on the very night of themurder!"

"This is the first I've heard of that!" cried Ned. 

"It was the first I had, but it led me straight to Rattar's house and along heart to heart talk with his housemaid. That was when I collectedthat extraordinary mixed bag of information which I was wonderingyesterday whether to believe or not. Here are the items, and you canjudge for yourself what my state of mind was when I was carrying aboutthe following precious pieces of information. "

He ticked the items off on his fingers. 

"A mysterious man who entered the garden one night and left hisfootprints in the gravel, and whose visit had a strange and mysteriouseffect on Rattar. Funny feelings produced in the bosom of the housemaidby the presence of her master. Doors of unused rooms mysteriously lockedand keys taken away; said to be old papers inside. Mysterious visit ofmysterious man at dead of night to remove the said papers. A ring thatcouldn't come off the owner's finger mysteriously lost. Mysteriousburglary on night of the murder by mysterious burglar who left allwindows and doors locked behind him and took nothing away. Mysteriousperambulations of his garden every night at nine o'clock by Mr. SimonRattar. "

"Great Scot!" murmured Cromarty. 

"I have given you the items in what turned out to be their order ofdate, but I got them higgledy-piggledy and served up in a sauce ofmystery and trembly sensations that left me utterly flummoxed as to howmuch--if anything--was sober fact. However, I began by fastening on totwo things. The first was the burglary, which of course at oncesuggested the possibility that the man who had committed the crime atKeldale had returned to Rattar's house and got in by that window. Thesecond was the nightly perambulations, which could easily be tested. When Mr. Rattar emerged at nine that night, I was in the garden beforehim. And what do you think he did?"

"Had a look at his brother's grave?"

"Smoked two pipes of tobacco! A man who was an anti-tobacco fanatic! Thetruth hit me straight in the eye--'That man is not Simon Rattar!' Andthen of course everything dropped into its place. The ex-convict twinbrother, the only evidence of whose supposititious death was anannouncement in the paper, obviously put in as a blind. The personalresemblance between the two. All the yarns told me by the housemaid, including the strange visitor--George of course arriving; the man whocame for the papers--George himself taking out the body; and thevanished ring. Everything fitted in now, and the correspondence betweenSir Reginald and Rattar which had beaten me before, gave the clue atonce as to motive. "

"I guess you felt you had deserved a drink that trip!" said Ned. 

"I didn't stop to have my drink. I went straight off to see old Isonand pumped him for the rest of the evening. He wasn't very helpfulbut everything I could get out of him went to confirm my theory. Ifound for certain that Simon Rattar had never smoked in his life, andthat George used to be a heavy smoker. I also learned that a fewrecent peculiarities of conduct had struck the not too observant Ison, one being very suggestive. Rattar, it seemed, kept an old pair of kidgloves in his desk which he was in the habit of wearing when he wasalone in the office. "

"Don't quite see the bearing of that. "

"Well, on my hypothesis it was to avoid leaving finger marks. You seeGeorge was an ex-convict. It was a very judicious precaution too, andmade it extremely difficult to catch him out by that means, for onecould scarcely approach a respectable solicitor and ask him for animpression of his fingers! And anyhow, nothing could be definitelyproved against him until we had found Simon's body. That was the nextproblem. Where had he hidden it?"

"And how did you get at that?"

"Guessed it. At first my thoughts went too far afield, but when I wentover the times mentioned in the maid's story of the man who took awaythe papers, and the fact that she heard no sound of a wheeled vehicle, Irealised that he must have simply planted it in one of the flower beds. This morning I prodded them all with a stout walking stick and found thespot. Then I talked like a father to old Sutherland and fixed everythingup with him. And then I sent my wire to you. "

"And you deliberately tell me you got there as much by good luck as goodguidance?"

Carrington's eyes thoughtfully followed his smoke rings. 

"I can see the luck at every turn, " he answered, "and though I'd like tobelieve in the guidance, I'm hanged if it's quite as distinct!"

"If you are telling me the neat, unvarnished truth, Carrington, " saidhis admiring employer, "I can only say that you've a lot to learn aboutyour own abilities--and I hope to Heaven you'll never learn it!"

"But I assure you there are some people who think me conceited!"

"There are guys of all sorts in the world, " said Ned. "For instancethere's a girl who has mistaken me for a daisy, and I've got to get backto her now. Good night! I won't say 'Thanks' because I can't shout itloud enough. "

When his gig lamps had flashed up the silent street and Carrington hadturned back from the pavement into the hotel, he met his friend MissPeterkin. 

"Mr. Cromarty's late to-night, " said she. "A fine gentleman that! Ialways say there are few like Mr. Cromarty of Stanesland. "

"That's lucky for me, " said Carrington with a smile that puzzled her alittle. "My business in life would be gone if there were!"

 THE END