THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9052, 11 February 1908, Page 2

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

[All Eights Reserved.]

CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued

"What is thsrc to explain? Courthope's death not only released u.e from my vow, but made Marjorie a ric.i heiress. I gave no attention to that after issue, because I was sure that I could overcome Courthope without seriously injuring him." Wintir, display iug real excitement, rose also and caught Philip by the arm. "What are you saying?" he asked in a tense voice. "How came it that Miss Neyland was to be an heiress?" Philip pressed his hands to his forehead. "Let me think !"' he gasped. ''When poor Courthope forced me to right—he said—that he saw clearly—that one or other of us must go under —and, if it were he who fell—Marjorie would be a rich woman—because that day he would make over to her all he possessed. Yes, that was it. Those are about his exact words. He said it was fair that whoever won her should have the money with her. And Robert Courthope was no liar. He made a will that day, as sure as I am alive. Isn't,it known? Has no one spoken of this thing? His solicitor, Bennett, of Nutworth, must be aware of it. And there were wit-

nesses, too " "By the Lord! That, is the hold Hannah has on James Courthope," Winter almost shouted. "She was one •of the witnesses and Bennett's clerk was another. I guessed there was •some hanky-panky about that transfer of some small piece of land. Either it was a forgery, or Robert Courthope did not know. That is it, of course. The transfer was goc up afterwards, as he must have read his own will. What a conspiracy! And how many people knew that Courthope would die that night? This is the biggest thing, I tell you "

CHAPTER XIV.

WHEREIN MARJORIE ACTS ON IMPULSE.

From that instant a new trend was given to their thoughts. Under lowered eyelids they looked at each other. The shadow of a terrible crime seemed to darken the room. It was as though the spirit of the red Squire had come from the grave to direct th»m towards the truth. Winter was the first to regain some measure of calm. He laughed harshly. It was a mirthless suggestion that he was ashamed of having ■allowed his feelings to conquer professional sang-froid. Yet, a nervous nibbling of his moustache, and the almost Quaker-like decorum with which he went back to his chair and produced a note-book, betrayed the Severity of the restraint he was imposing on himself. "Now, Mr Warren," he said, in a, staccato way, "we must set about our inquiry in real earnest. Thus far we have only dipped into your story, tasting it, extracting its strenuous bits, ,so to speak. With your help, I propose to go through it from A to Z. Take your time. Think of every-thi-g; and tell me all that has happened since the moment Felix brought the message that Miss Neyland wished you to keep an appointment for six o'clock at Fennell's Tower." The Vicar moistened his dry lips with his tongue. "This affair is serious enough already'," he commented, "but ypur Philip, introduces an element of criminality hitherto wanting. I am rejoiced, my dear boy, to find the cloud of suspicion lifting from off your shoulders, but I am sure you will be most careful not to permit your prejudice against " "Mr Warren will merely speak of facts," broke in Winter sharply. "We do not know, nor g"eatly care, •whither those facts may lead. That is for the law to decide." ■

"You have not forgotten that my nephew is virtually u prisoner?" asked Mr Isambard, who, as a,magistrate, knew something of legal procedure.

"I have already warned him," was the terse answer, and the detective felt that he had perhaps erred in allowing the precise-minded Vicar to be present. But Philip swept aside all doubts.

"I have nothing to conceal," he .said, with quiet insistence. "My unhappy friend and rival did not die by mv hand. Were it otherwise, I still .should tell the truth; but, as I have been accused unjustly of a crime which I had actually resolved not to commit, it would be a mere fettering of Mr Winter's inquiry were I to refuse to aid him to the fullest extent." The detective, for all his power of self-control, was straining like a hound at the leash when the game is started.

To his manifest relief, Philip made good his words by giving a faithful record of events since Felix found him poring over a black-letter book in thd summer-house at the foot of the Vicarage garden. Winter, though he took copious notes, hardly ever checked the story by a question. Once, when Philip mentioned that Marjorie thought the half-witted messenger had been sent by Mr Bennett, the solicitor, he asked why she formed that notion, and the answer was that Felix's description had suggested Bennett to her mind.

Again, Winter interrupted the recital in order to discover whether or not Robert Courthope had admitted that it was he who locked the tower door, and Warren was obliged to say that Courthope denied all knowledge of the key-turning which had such disastrous consequences. The detective insisted on the closest verbal accuracy in recounting the wild talk in the churchyard when the due] was arranged, and, ior the first time, it dawned on Philip that he might have

By ROBERT ERASER.

[Published By Special Arrangement.]

(To be continued.)

assumed too hastily that the Squire had played such a mean trick on Marjorie ami himself. The Vicar, also, though his evidence seemed to connect Robert with the door-locking, was positive that nothing was said on the point when he met Courthope in the lane, and his face, too, assumed a deeper pallor as he recalled the cross-examination of James Courthope by Mr Whittaker at the inquest. Every whiff of evidence blew in one direction. None named the suspect, yet each knew the others' thoughts. But the Scotland Yard man allowed no side issues to diyert his inquiry. He followed Philips' narrative with the closest attention until he heard how, in the semi-darkness caused by a passing cloud, Courthope had disarmed his adversary. Th«:n he rose hastily.

'"Do you promise to obey my instructions, Mr Warren?" he demanded.

"Yes, if possible." Philip was rather surprised that the detective showed no interest in his subsequent adventures—how he had quitted the train at a junction, and walked back over the moors to hide in Fennell's Tower next day until after nightfall, hoping to find his ring at Lancauit, and never abandoning that hope, though sorely beset by Marjorie's unexpected visits to the churchyard. He could have told how the devoted huntsman of his pack of otter-hounds had fed him without question, placing loyalty to a master and friend above the demand of the law for a fugitive criminal; and he was longing to relieve his heart of the burthen placed on it by the amazing conversation between Marjorie and James Courthope. Yet Mr Winter wanted to hear none of this.

"You had better do exactly as I tell you," he repeated, moving towards the door. "Let no one'from outside see you until I arrive in the morning, say about ten o'clock. I shall Mr Isambard to take us in a closed carriage to the court-house at Nutworth, where you will be charged on a minor count, and remanded on your uncle's bail; so you should be here again by noon, and I have little doubt, under the circumstances, that you wi}l find Miss Marjorie Neyland awaiting you in this very room.'" "Ah! if only——" But the detective was gone. He left uncle and nephew to sit together during many hours and tell all that was to be told of the tragedy which had shocked a whole country-side. It was late when they retired. They did not know that Davenport had literally obeyed their orders, and sent away a dozen callers. Hudston was wide-awake that night. When Winter reached the chilly gloom of the garden he stood for a few seconds, to light fresh cigar. Soon the end was in a furious glow, sure sign of active thought in that round head of his. The jerky whistle of a train announcing its departure from Hudston Station reached his ears. It was the 9.30 p.m. mail tb York and the south, and it brought to mind the sad picture, of Marjorie waiting in the arcade outside the hotel, eager for a life of love and happiness, yet banned by the hand of her lover as the outcome of the duel.

"By gad! ' thought Winter cheerfully, "what a meeting that will be to-mnrrow! Lucky dog, Warren, after all! This suffering will make a man of him. I think I brushed away the last of the cobwebs when I tackled him in the tower to-night. There's something lovable about the fellow, notwithstanding his nonsensi-" cal notions!"

Turning i'tto the village street, he passed groups of gossiping- men. Missing naught within his ken, he saw that they showed a re-awakened interest in his movements.

"So," he growled, "Hannah has babbled. Of course, she was eager to win a little added notoriety. I suppose the other half of Hudston is spread out between here and Fennell's Tower. Confound the woman, what a shrew it is!"