THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9041, 28 January 1908, Page 2

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

CHAPTER IX. Continued. "Sh-h-h! Don't lift your voice." de opened the door rapidly, and losed it softly again. "Xou area iueer young lady to speak like that n, me! When yon say 'innocent,' vhat do ycu mean? That you think ■ ■■.a ui.ln'c fight, or what?" "Kill, I mean, kill! Mr Robert ourthopa died by some other hand—- • -!" "Sh h-h!-for goodness' sake! You ~->ust not harbour such surmises without the least grounds. May I ask if ,ou have happened to. mention these unfounded suspicions to any one?" "No, for I have only had them this .loming since I found the envelope md note " "Only this morning, you see. They an hardly be worth a great deal, can ;hey?" "Ah, they may! We shall see. I haven't begun to think yet, but I nean to!"

Inspector Winter took two turns through the room, without making any answer. Then, with a very grave Lace and quite a change of tone, he laid: "I heard that you were going ,o London, Miss Neyland. Isn't that she case?"" "Yes. How on earth ?" "It is my business to know things, you know. But aren't you going atill?" . "No, I shall stay." "Well, more's the pity," said he half aloud. "Pity? But why?" a3ked Marjorie. "Did I say 'pity?' I mean that this is such a dead and alive little place for a lady like yourself, accustomed to London life. And suppose I add that it may possibly prove beneficial to .the interests you have at heart if you got clear away out of here. Will you go, then?" "No. Not unless you will be so good a3 to explain yourself. I am staying here for that very reason in order to see if, sooner or later, by luck or wit, I may not be able to do something for the protection of the man I love."

"But what can you ever do?" The emphasis was gentle, but genuine. "Why not leave it to those who know their way about better than you, who, if there's anything to be done, will do it? I can see that you are rather too sharp for this business—too sharp, and not sharp enough, and that is a combination only too likely to work mischief."

"Unfortunately, I don't understand you," retorted Marjorie, watching him closely. "I am not going to work mischief, I am going to work good." "Well, have it your own way, Miss Nevland. But, at least, listen to this. Supposing these far-fetched notions of yours do have any grounds —I say supposing- do you understand —well, that it will be better never to breathe one word of them to a living soul—except me? It is easy to see, isn't it, that you might only succeed in putting others on their guard?" "I see! That is why you want me to go away!" she cried. "I seo, I am too sharp, and not sharp enough, having a woman's head. Still, you may be certain, Inspector Winter, that I shall not fail to follow your hint as to secrecy; and, am I to take it, then, that you, too,, harbour these same far-fetched suspicions of mine, since you are so anxious for my silence?"'

"Never a bit—pooh! Never a bit!" He reached for his cigar again. "I believe that you do really, but you won't take me into partnership, though it has happened that the stor.3 which the builders rejected became in the end the head of tfie corner. How ever, 1 am delighted to imagine you secret ly on my side, and mean to run you a friendly race to the goal." Steadily during the interview Marjorie's spirits had heightened, hence this challenge, which the Inspector heard like Vtht idle wini." She rose, saying: "I only want now to ask you whether the police have any hope of capturing Philip Warren soon? Nothing ought to be easiei-, considering his characteristic appearance, his abunjant wavy hair, his velvet jacket, his Cavalier face, his splendid figure and striking profile." "I know it all," said Winter, smiling upon her. "Will you catch him soon?" "Sol am to give you the secrets of the authorities, Miss Neyland?"

"Keep your secrets," said she. "I only hope that he will be caught, and that it will be you who do it, for I believe in you. But you had better be quick, or I wiil beat you." With this jest Marjorie walked out, leaving the envelope and note with the Inspector, who, on her departure, went to peep- after her form behind a window curtain, and watched the poetry of her motion down the street with the murmur of, "I am beginning to understand that fight!" while she, on arriving at the Greyhound, shut herself away in her part of the house to avoid an ercounter with Hannah or the others, until she knew that the inqiwst had begun. In her room almost alone that day she knit her brows to the problems of the event which had so suddenly overshadowed her life, though her thoughts were some.vhat distracted by her waiting for the verdict of the coroner's jury. She hoped now that, with that note of Philip's endorsed by the Squire's writing, and with all the fresh doubts, that this must rouse, no twelve men in Hudston would dare to utter those terrible words: "Wilful murder." But the waiting was painful'y long. All the afternoon the schoolroom continued pregnant with its big conference, till, toward evening, unable any more to sit still, Marjorie sallied out into the empty village to go to Lancault, to give effect Jto her notion of searching for the sig-net-ring.

By ROBERT ERASER.

[Published By Special Arrangement.] [All Eights Reserved.]

When she had climbed over the slab into the little church, her heart all at once failed her when she thought of her promise to search there for a year. A week might have been better, since human patience has its limits. For she saw at a glance that the ring could not be in the church itself, all the grass having been removed, and the floor quite integral. However, like every character of any worthy, she had a stout belief in her own powers and luck, and she set herself the large task of searching the surrounding bracken, bit by bit, day by day, in a methodical way, till hope should merge into despair in her heart. There and then she began the work. But in the midst of it the gloom of evening dropped down upon her; in there in the church there were bloodstains on the stones; and all at once panic seized her, and she could stay not another moment in the place, but' hurried away with more than one backward look. She reached home just in time before the schoolroom poured forth its throng, and was taking off her hat when Aunt Margaret bustled into the room with an awed whisper of "The Vicar!" Mr Isambard had come himself to give to Marjorie the day's news. With a strained note in his voice he told her how Mr Hardinge had made a speech that would establish his reputation, holding up each of the threads of the cas'j before the jury's eyes, to demonstrate that Warren might, after all, have taken the Squire's life in sheer self-defence; how he had converted half Hudston to his view; and how Marjorie's sister had been so heckled that at one time she had shown signs of fainting. "Was that when they were asking her about the envelope and note?" asked Marjorie. "No, when she was being crosse::amire3 as to hej* summons to the Hall on the afternoon of the tragedy," answered Mr Isambard. "It was thought extraordinary that the Squire should have chosen her as the witness of a document, when there were no end of witnesses ready to hand about him, and when the document was apparently not one of any importance to anyone connected with Hannah."

"And what was the nature of the document, sir?" "A mere assignment of some pasture lands—Mr Bennett, of Nutworth, produced it in court. He said that the Squire expressed a wish to have Hannah as a witness, he did not know why. So Hannah was sent for, and duly signed the instrument." "I noticed her go out during the afternoon that day," v said Marjorie. "She did noc mention to me why. But I don't see anything in that to cause her to faint."

"Well, the poor girl was persistently heckled by both lawyers," said the Vicar, "not only as to that, but as to her finding of the envelope and note, as to her reasons for concealing them, as to her whereabouts on the evening of the tragedy, and other matters. All this did not seem very pertinent to the case, and tfie village folk felt that she was being browbeaten. However, she won through, and, as she stood.dowij, Mr Whitaker for the police first spoke, and then Hardinge, leaving between them upon the mind an impression that all the wonder-workers of time and space / had a hand in that business that ' night! How, asked• Mr Hardinge, explain the fact that the dead man was without his coat, except oil the theory of a duel? The culprit, said Whitaker, might have taken it off after the death to give an impression of a duel. But would he have taken all that pains, said Hardinge, and yet leave his sword sticking in the dead man's breast, seeing that the sword was not fixed into any bone, but came away easily, as P.C. Bates had deposed? But, retorted Whitaker, the mere fact of the sword left in the breast was a disproof .of a duel, seeing that, in a duel, the victor does not, of course, part with his weapon on delivering the stab. But, then, asked Hardinge, how account for the three additional flesh wounds, mere prick?, on the deceased, except on the theory of a'duel? or for the wound on Wan-en's hand, deposed to by Miss Neyland? or for the blood-stained handkerchief of the Squire used to wipe a small-sword certainly not the small-sword found in the Squire, but some other? How, above all, account for the fact that Warren's note, declaring a due!, was found in the Squire's envelope directed to the County Coroner? So the two lawyers bandied the ball between them with no little nimbleness of wit, but all the time worse confusing confusion, while I remarked that Inspector Winter's face was the image of quiet amusement at the battle of brains taking place before him." (To be continued.)