THE NEW DETECTIVE STORY. 

 THE DIAMOND COTERIE

 BY LAWRENCE L. LYNCH

 AUTHOR OF "SHADOWED BY THREE" "MADELINE PAYNE, " ETC. 

 CHICAGO: HENRY A. SUMNER AND COMPANY. 1884. 

 Copyright, 1882, by DONNELLEY, LOYD & CO. , CHICAGO. 

 Copyright, 1884, by R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS, CHICAGO. 

 R. R. Donnelley & Sons, The Lakeside Press, Chicago. 

[Illustration: "Really this is a sad affair. "]

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. Two Shocks for W----

CHAPTER II. W---- Investigates

CHAPTER III. A Sample of the Lamotte Blood

CHAPTER IV. Sybil's Letter

CHAPTER V. The Deductions of a Detective

CHAPTER VI. Doctor Heath at Home

CHAPTER VII. A Falling Out

CHAPTER VIII. One Detective too Many

CHAPTER IX. The Deductions of Detective Number Two

CHAPTER X. Evan

CHAPTER XI. The End of the Beginning

CHAPTER XII. The Beginning of the End

CHAPTER XIII. Constance's Diplomacy

CHAPTER XIV. John Burrill, Aristocrat

CHAPTER XV. Diamonds

CHAPTER XVI. In Open Mutiny

CHAPTER XVII. The Play Goes On

CHAPTER XVIII. John Burrill, Plebeian

CHAPTER XIX. Nance Burrill's Warning

CHAPTER XX. Constance at Bay

CHAPTER XXI. Appointing a Watch Dog

CHAPTER XXII. The Watch Dog Discharged

CHAPTER XXIII. Father and Son

CHAPTER XXIV. A Day of Gloom

CHAPTER XXV. That Night

CHAPTER XXVI. Prince's Prey

CHAPTER XXVII. A Turn in the Game

CHAPTER XXVIII. Introducing Mr. Smith

CHAPTER XXIX. Openly Accused

CHAPTER XXX. An Obstinate Client

CHAPTER XXXI. Beginning the Investigation

CHAPTER XXXII. An Appeal to the Wardour Honor

CHAPTER XXXIII. "I Can Save Him if I Will"

CHAPTER XXXIV. A Last Resort

CHAPTER XXXV. A Strange Interview

CHAPTER XXXVI. Two Passengers West

CHAPTER XXXVII. Some Excellent Advice

CHAPTER XXXVIII. Belknap Outwitted

CHAPTER XXXIX. "Will Love Outweigh Honor?"

CHAPTER XL. "Too Young to Die"

CHAPTER XLI. Sir Clifford Heathercliffe

CHAPTER XLII. A Tortured Witness

CHAPTER XLIII. Justice, Sacrifice, Death

CHAPTER XLIV. A Spartan Mother

CHAPTER XLV. Told by a Detective

CHAPTER XLVI. The Story of Lucky Jim

CHAPTER XLVII. After the Drama Ended

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

"Really, this is a sad affair. "

"I have a clue. "

"I am ready to do that at any and all times. "

"John Burrill! Why, he is a brute!"

So he dines at Wardour Place

"Who are you?"

"Ah! This phial is one of a set. "

"Are we alone?"

The tramp turned and looked back

"Doctor Heath flatters himself. "

"Here is this man again. "

"Poor Frank! don't let this overcome you so. "

"Why, Evan, you look ghostly. "

"You must not have a third attack. "

"Conny, it has come. "

"I am happy to know you. "

"I have never once been tempted to self destruction. "

Only a moment did Sybil listen

Evan saw Sybil and Frank canter away

"It is not in his power or yours to alter my decision. "

"Then take that, and that. "

"It's the other one, " he muttered

"Stay a moment, sir. "

"I'll be hanged if I can understand it. "

"I hope you will excuse me. "

"Well, Roake, are you ready for business?"

"If you ever see me again, you'll see me sober. "

"You promise never to marry Francis LaMotte?"

The cottage stands quite by itself

"Prince, come away, sir!"

"Why, boy, bless me. "

"Any of the stiff's friends in this gang?"

"Did you ever see that knife before?"

They find Corliss at the Sheriff's desk

"Softly, sir; reflect a little. "

"Sybil Lamotte shall die in her delirium. "

"Constance Wardour, you love Clifford Heath. "

"Another, Miss Wardour, is--yourself. "

"Mr. Belknap, it is I. "

"Cap'n, you're a good fellow. "

"My friend, come down off that. "

"That hope is ended now. "

"Prisoner at the Bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"

"It was found close beside the body of John Burrill. "

They come slowly forward

"There is a flash--a loud report. "

Bathurst telling the story

THE DIAMOND COTERIE. 

CHAPTER I. 

TWO SHOCKS FOR W----. 

On a certain Saturday in June, year of our Lord 1880, between the hoursof sunrise and sunset, the town of W----, in a State which shall benameless, received two shocks. 

Small affairs, concerning small people, could never have thrownW---- into such a state of excitement, for she was a large and wealthytown, and understood what was due to herself. 

She possessed many factories, and sometimes a man came to his deathamong the ponderous machinery. Not long since one "hand" had stabbedanother, fatally; and, still later, a factory girl had committedsuicide. 

These things created a ripple, nothing more. It would ill become a town, boasting its aristocracy and "style, " to grow frenzied over the woes ofsuch common people. But W---- possessed a goodly number of wealthyfamilies, and some blue blood. These were worthy of consideration, andupon these calamity had fallen. Let us read an extract or two from theW---- _Argus_, a newspaper of much enterprise and exceeding veracity:

 MONSTROUS DIAMOND ROBBERY--BOLD BURGLARY. 

 This day we are startled by the news of a robbery in our midst, the like of which it has never been our fate to chronicle. 

 When the servants at Wardour Place arose this morning, they found confusion reigning in the library, desks forced open, papers strewn about, and furniture disarranged. One of the long windows had been opened by forcing the shutters, and then cutting out a pane of glass, after which the bolts were easily drawn. 

 Miss Wardour was at once aroused, and further examination disclosed the fact that her dressing room had been invaded, and every box, trunk and drawer searched. The beautiful little affair, which has the appearance of a miniature combined desk and bookcase, but which contains a small safe, that Miss Wardour believed burglar proof, had been forced, and the jewels so widely known as the "Wardour diamonds, " stolen. Quite a large sum of money, and some papers of value, were also taken. 

 Most of our readers are familiar with the history of the Wardour diamonds, and know that they represented a fortune. 

 The burglary was effected without noise, not a sound disturbing Miss Wardour, or any of her servants, some of whom are light sleepers, and they have not a single clue by which to trace the robbers. 

 Miss Wardour bears the loss with great calmness. Of course every effort will be made to recover the jewels, and capture the thieves. It is rumored that Mr. Jasper Lamotte, in behalf of Miss Wardour, will visit the city at once and set the detectives at work. 

This was shock number one for the public of W----. 

Miss Constance Wardour, of Wardour Place, was a lady of distinction. Shepossessed the oldest name, the bluest blood, the fairest face, and thelongest purse, to be found in W----; and, the _Argus_ had said truly, the Wardour diamonds represented a fortune, and not a small one. 

Emmeline Wardour, the great grandmother of Miss Constance, was a belleand heiress. Her fondness for rare jewels amounted to a mania, and shespent enormous sums in collecting rare gems. At her death she bequeathedto her daughter a collection such as is owned by few ladies in privatelife. She also bequeathed to her daughter her mania. This daughter, after whom Constance was named, added to her mother's store of preciousstones, from time to time, and when, one fine day, a bank, in which shehad deposited some thousands of her dollars, failed, and she foundherself a loser, she brought her craze to a climax, by converting allher money into diamonds, set and unset. 

At her death, her granddaughter, Constance, inherited these treasures, in addition to a handsome fortune from her mother; and, although theoriginal collection made by Emmeline Wardour contained a variety of rarestones, opals, amethysts, pearls, cameos, etc. , besides the many finediamonds, they all came to be classed under the head of the "Wardourdiamonds. "

It is small wonder that W---- stood aghast at the thought of such arobbery, and it is impossible to say when the talk, the wonderment, theconjectures, suggestions, theories, and general indignation would haveended, had not the second shock overborne the first. Once more let the_Argus_ speak:

 A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 

 Yesterday afternoon, while the town was filled with the excitement caused by the Wardour robbery, Miss Sybil Lamotte, the beautiful daughter of our wealthy and highly respected citizen, Jasper Lamotte, Esq. , eloped with John Burrill, who was, for a time, foreman in one of her father's mills. Burrill is known to be a divorced man, having a former wife and a child, living in W----; and his elopement with one of the aristocracy has filled the town with consternation. 

 Mr. Lamotte, the father of the young lady, had not been from home two hours, in company with his wife, when his daughter fled. He was _en route_ for the city, to procure the services of detectives, in the hope of recovering the Wardour diamonds; both his sons were absent from home as well. Mr. Lamotte has not yet returned, and is still ignorant of his daughter's flight. 

Thus abruptly and reluctantly ends the second _Argus_ bombshell, andthis same last bombshell had been a very different thing to handle. Itmight have been made far more sensational, and the editor had sighed ashe penned the cautiously worded lines: "It was a monstrous_mesalliance_, and a great deal could be said in disparagement of Mr. John Burrill;" but Mr. Lamotte was absent; the brothers Lamotte wereabsent; and until he was certain what steps they would take in thismatter, it were wise to err on the safe side. Sybil was an onlydaughter. Parents are sometimes prone to forgive much; it might be bestto "let Mr. Burrill off easy. "

Thus to himself reasoned the editor, and, having bridled his pen, muchagainst his will, he set free his tongue, and in the bosom of his familydiscoursed very freely of Mr. John Burrill. 

"My dear, it's unendurable, " he announced to the little woman opposite, with the nod of a Solomon. "It's perfectly _incomprehensible_, how sucha girl could do it. Why, he's a braggart and a bully. He drinks in ourpublic saloons, and handles a woman's name as he does his beer glass. The factory men say that he has boasted openly that he meant to marryMiss Lamotte, _or_ Miss Wardour, he couldn't decide which. By the by, it's rather odd that those two young ladies should meet with suchdissimilar misfortunes on the same day. "

Mrs. Editor, a small woman, who, from constantly hearing and absorbinginto the vacuum of her own mind, the words of wisdom falling from themouth of her husband, had acquired an expression of being always readyand willing to be convinced, looked up from her teapot and propoundedthe following:

"W-what do you s'pose she eloped with him for?"

"Maria, I believe I have told you frequently that there is no such wordas 's'pose. ' I don't _suppose_ anything about it. It's enough to makeone believe in witchcraft. Miss Sybil Lamotte held her head above _us_;above plenty more, who were the peers of Mr. John Burrill. Last year, aseverybody knows, she refused Robert Crofton, who is handsome, rich, andupright in character. This Spring, they say, she jilted Raymond Vandyck, and people who ought to know, say that they were engaged. Why, RayVandyck comes of the best old Dutch stock, and his fortune is somethingworth while. I wonder what young Vandyck will say to this, and how thathigh-stepping old lady, his mother, will fancy having her son thrownover for John Burrill. I wish I knew how Jasper Lamotte would take it. "

So, in many a household, tongues wagged fast and furious; misfortune hadsmitten the mighty ones of W----, and brought them within range of thegossiping tongues of their social inferiors; and, while the villageoracles improve their opportunities, and old women hatch theories, thelike of which was never heard on earth, let us make the acquaintance ofsome of the "mighty ones. "

CHAPTER II. 

W---- INVESTIGATES. 

Wardour Place, the home of Miss Constance Wardour, and the scene of the"_great_ Diamond robbery, " lies a little east from the town, away fromthe clamor of its mills, and the contamination of its _canaille_. 

It is a beautiful old place, built upon a slight elevation, surroundedby stately old trees, with a wide sweep of well-kept lawn, bordered withrose thickets, and dotted here and there with great clumps of tallsyringas, white lilacs, acacias, and a variety of ornamental trees andflowering shrubs. 

The mansion stands some distance from the road, and is reached by abroad, sweeping drive and two footpaths that approach from oppositedirections. 

In the rear are orchard and gardens, and beyond these a grassy slopethat curves down to meet the river, that is ever hurrying townward toseize the great mill wheels and set them sweeping round and round. 

The mansion itself is a large, roomy edifice, built by a masterarchitect. It at once impresses one with a sense of its true purpose: ahome, stately, but not stiff, abounding in comfort and aristocraticease; a place of serene repose and inborn refinement. Such, WardourPlace was intended to be; such, it has been and is. 

Miss Constance Wardour, mistress of the domain and last of the race, isalone in her own favorite morning room. It is two hours since thediscovery of the robbery, and during those two hours confusion hasreigned supreme. Everybody, except Miss Wardour, has seemingly run wild. But Miss Wardour has kept her head, and has prevented the servants fromgiving the alarm upon the highway, and thus filling her house with apromiscuous mob. She has compelled them to comport themselves likerational beings; has ordered the library and dressing room to be closed, and left untouched until the proper officer shall have made properinvestigations; and then she has ordered her maid to serve her with acup of strong coffee in the morning room; and, considering theglittering wealth she has just been bereaved of, Miss Wardour looks verycalm and unruffled, and sips her coffee with a relish. 

Presently the door opens and a lady enters: a very fat lady, with floridcomplexion, restless, inquisitive, but good-humored gray eyes, andplenty of dark crinkly hair, combed low about her ears. 

This is Mrs. Honor Aliston, a distant relative of Miss Wardour's, whohas found a most delightful home with that young lady, ever since thedeath of Grandmamma Wardour, for Constance Wardour has been an orphansince her childhood. 

Mrs. Aliston comes forward, rather rolls forward, and sinking, with agrunt of satisfaction, into the largest chair at hand, fixes two grayeyes upon the heiress, which that young lady, perceiving, says: "Well?"

"Don't say 'well' to me. I've just come down from the mansard, " gaspedthe widow Aliston. 

"From the _mansard_?"

"Yes, " fanning herself briskly with the pages of an uncut magazine. 

Constance laughs musically. "Why, Aunt Honor, you didn't expect to seethe robbers running across the country, did you?"

"Not I, " disdainfully. "I wanted to see how long it took the news to getto--Mapleton. "

"Oh!" indifferently. 

"And--they're coming. "

"So soon!"

"So soon! and the sheriff, or constable, or coroner, --_who_ is it thatmake these investigations? He's coming, at any rate, whoever he is, witha mob at his heels. Who did you send for, Con?"

"For Mr. O'Meara, of course, and--I would like to see Ray Vandyck. "

"What for?"

Constance laughed. "Oh, I am fond of Ray, you know, and I think he wouldoffer some unique suggestions; besides--dear me, auntie!" breaking offsuddenly, "I wish this farce was at an end. "

Mrs. Aliston's gray eyes twinkled. "Why, child, you may be thankful it'sno worse. Suppose--"

"Hush, Aunt Honor. 'Walls have ears, ' you know. I have half a mind totake Mr. Lamotte into my--"

"Constance Wardour, _what_ are you thinking about? 'Take Mr. Lamotte!'that means Frank Lamotte and Madame Lamotte, and _that_ means all therest. "

"I said '_half_ a mind, ' auntie. I don't think the notion will ever getits growth. I think we will see the end of this affair through our ownspectacles; but--hear that noise! Are they bringing a legion of people?Auntie, I don't believe you have had a cup of coffee yet. "

"Don't you? Well, I _have_, my child. Let's go out and meet thosepeople. They will bring all the dirt that lay loose on the highway onthe soles of their boots. Con, " turning suddenly, "you don't look solemnenough. "

Without heeding this last remark, Constance Wardour throws open thedoor, and passes out and down the hall to meet the party just entering. 

There is Mr. Soames, the mayor of W----, very bustling and important;Corliss, the constable, exceedingly shrewd in his own opinion, andlooking on this occasion as wise as an owl; Thomas Craig, Esq. , sub-editor of the _Argus_; and some lesser lights, who, on one pretextand another, hope to gain admittance and sate their curiosity. 

"Really, Miss Wardour, " begins the bustling mayor, "really, this is asad affair! miserable affair! Must have given you a terrible fright, andthen the loss!--but we will find them. Of course your jewels, suchvaluables, can't be kept hid from sharp detectives--a--Corliss, what hadwe better do first?" for Mayor Soames, like many another mayor, isabout as capable of fulfilling his duties as an average ten-year-old. 

Corliss, however, comes gallantly to the rescue. He is equal to anyemergency; there is nothing, if you take his word as proof, that Corlissis _not_ equal to. 

"First, " says Corliss, "I think we had better--ahem--investigate. "

"To be sure--investigate, of course--Miss Wardour, you have--"

"Closed up the disturbed rooms, " interrupts Constance, promptly. "Yes, sir; I fear you will find little there to assist you. Nelly, throw openthe library. "

The servant, thus commanded, took from her mistress' hand a key, unlocked the library door and threw it open; and then the farce began. 

If there is anything in all our dispensations of law and order that iscalculated to strike astonishment to the heart and mind of a foreigner, it is our off-hand way of conducting a police investigation. In othercountries, to be a magistrate, a notary, means to be in some degreequalified for the position; to be a constable, means to possess amoderate allowance of mother wit, and a small measure of "muscularchristianity;" and to discover a crime, means to follow it up with athorough and systematic investigation. Such is not our mode. With us, tohold office, means to get a salary; and to conduct an investigation, means to maunder through some sort of farce, which gives the criminaltime to make good his escape, and to permit the newspapers to seize uponand publish every item, to detail every clue, as fast as discovered; allthis being in favor of the law-breakers, and detrimental to theconscientious officers of justice. 

In France, they complain of too much red tape in the police department. Let them supply us out of their superabundance; we have too little. 

While Corliss "investigates, " the mayor delivers an impromptu oration;and Mr. Craig, of the _Argus_, takes notes, according to his own light. 

Out of his inner consciousness, the _Argus_ man evokes an idea, whichCorliss is not slow to adopt and use as his own. 

"I suppose they will have a detective down as soon as possible, " saysMr. Craig, as Corliss lays one ruthless hand on an overturned chair. "IfI were you, Corliss, I would leave everything exactly as I find it, forthe benefit of whoever works up the case. "

Corliss slowly lowers the chair to its former position, and turns uponCraig a look of offended dignity. 

"Why, what did you suppose I intended to do?"

"Umph!" retorted Craig, with a disrespectful sniff, "I rather thoughtyou intended to sit down in that chair. "

Turning his back upon the flippant young man, so sadly lacking inrespect for the "powers that be, " Corliss pursues his investigations. Hehas read, in many novels and sensational newspapers, vivid descriptionsof similar examinations, and he goes to work after the most approvedfashion. He scrutinizes the window, the open blind, the cut pane, thehangings within and the down-trodden shrubbery without; he darts out, and dives in; he peers under every thing, over every thing, into everything; he inspects, over and again, the mutilated writing case, or safe, from which the treasure was actually taken; and raps and sounds it as ifin search of some private receptacle that the thieves had overlooked, orMiss Wardour never found out. He goes down flat upon his stomach, andscrutinizes Miss Wardour's scrupulously swept carpets, in search of afootprint in the dust that is not there. 

While he performs these feats, the mayor follows him about solemnly, andfull of wondering admiration; and the man of the _Argus_ scribbles, andchuckles and grins maliciously. 

Meantime, there have been other arrivals at Wardour Place; andConstance, leaving the inspectors to their own devices, is standing inher drawing-room, talking earnestly with a broad-shouldered, handsomeman, who looks much surprised at the tale she is telling. 

"How unfortunate, and how fortunate, " he says, depositing his hat uponthe table beside him. "I came here to speak of our river excursion, andlo, I am in the midst of a sensation. "

Constance laughed. 

"And surrounded by forlorn females, " she supplemented. "Aunt Honor won'trecover from the fright in a week, although she looks so fierce atpresent. "

Mrs. Aliston, who is seated at the farthest window, half buried by thelace draperies, and looking steadfastly down the road, pops out her headto retort:

"It's time to look fierce; don't I know that those Vandals in the nextroom will make as big a muddle as if they were in sympathy with theburglars?"

Constance laughed easily. 

"They can't do much harm, auntie; the burglars did not leave a trace; Iam positive of that. " Then turning to the new comer, "I am very glad youcame just now, Doctor Heath; you may help me with your advice. I havesent for my lawyer, Mr. O'Meara; but, for some reason he does not come. "

"Mr. O'Meara left for the city last night. "

"Oh! I am sorry for that; he would be sure to know how to proceed, andwho to employ. Doctor Heath you are of course acquainted in the city;tell me of a good man, a _really_ good one. I intend to spare no expensein hunting these robbers. "

"And these diamonds, " from behind the curtain. 

"Aunt Honor, you are like the ghost in the pantomime; come out and beone of us. "

"I won't. "

"Very well, then; but seriously, Doctor Heath, if I can't secure but theone, let it be the robbers. Do you know I have a fancy that if we caughtthem or him, it would put an end to some of our mysteries. You have notbeen among us very long; but, don't you think we have more than ouraverage of crime?"

"I had not observed, Miss Wardour. "

"Less than a year ago, Brant, the jeweler, was a heavy loser. Within theyear, three banks in this vicinity have been robbed. Last summer, MarkOlson, a farmer, drew from the bank several thousand dollars, intendingto purchase land. Half way between W---- and his home he was waylaid, knocked from his horse, robbed, and left in the road senseless. I couldname to you no less than seven private residences that have beenburglarized within the past ten months, and if I related to you thecircumstances attending each robbery, you would be satisfied, as I am, that, _in every case_, the robbers knew their ground, and did not workat random. "

"And you have noted each of these events so accurately, Miss Wardour, and yet, were not--warned. "

"I have noted all these events, Doctor Heath, and yet--have beenrobbed. "

Doctor Heath bends his eyes upon the floor, and remains silent; there isno possibility of reading his thoughts in his face. It is a fine face, however, and Miss Wardour must be pardoned if she takes advantage ofthis temporary abstraction, to gaze full at him for one moment. Theclose cropped thick brown hair displays a well shaped head, the foreheadis broad and full, the eyes large, dark gray, and capable of almost anyexpression; usually they look out from his handsome face with a halfcontemptuous indifference to all things, that leads one to fancy thoseeyes may have a history; this may or may not be the case. Doctor Heathcame to W---- less than a year ago, armed with a personal certificate ofmerit from the first of the great New York physicians, bought out thepractice of a broken down old resident doctor, fitted up a handsomeoffice, and settled down to his business. He hired a small cottage as aplace of residence, installed a deaf old woman as housekeeper and maidof all work, and lived a quiet bachelor life, riding a good horse, smoking a good cigar, and growing in favor with polite W---- society. 

And this is absolutely all that W---- can tell concerning Dr. CliffordHeath. What was his past, whence he came, what the length of his purseor pedigree, no one knows. People have tried to find out something--ofcourse--but Doctor Heath has a wonderful way of setting aside the hintsof the curious, and he ignores the right of W---- to know his privatehistory, with a cool impertinence that is as exasperating as it iseffectual. 

As he thinks, Miss Wardour watches; but no change comes over the calm, smooth shaven face, every feature expresses firmness and strength, andnothing more. 

"And so you want an able officer to take this business in hand, MissWardour, " says Clifford Heath, at length. "If it is as you suspect, itwill need a shrewd man, and you have no clue, save those that are nowbeing inspected, " with a light laugh, "by our worthy constable and hissupporters. "

Constance Wardour arose and came close to the table, speaking in a lowvoice. 

"Yes, Doctor Heath, I will trust _you_, although I intended sayingnothing of this until an officer arrived. I have a clue, slight, although it may be, it is--"

[Illustration: "I have a clue. "]

She drew from her pocket a small white roll, and unfolding it, held upfor his inspection _half_ of a fine cambric handkerchief, and a tinystoppered vial of finest cut glass. 

Doctor Heath glanced at the vial and uttered one word. 

"Chloroform. "

"Chloroform, " repeated Miss Wardour; "when I was awakened, by theknocking at my door, I found this, " shaking the fragment of cambric, "lying lightly across my face; and the vial, on the little night standbeside my bed. Aunt Honor was rapping for admittance, and when she hadmade me comprehend the situation, we decided that it was best to saynothing of this. What seems most strange is, that it was administeredwith so much care; I am affected by the smallest quantity of the drug, and an ordinary dose would have put me under medical treatment. I couldnot have left my bed for a week, had they given me as much as wouldserve only to stupify Aunt Honor there. "

"No, " interrupted Mrs. Aliston, once more half emerging from her window. "It would have been worse than that; I think an overdose of chloroformwould kill Constance. It seems as if they knew just how much to give. "

Was it fancy, or did a troubled look rest for a moment in the eyes ofDoctor Heath, and on his countenance a shade of pallor?

"This is, to my mind, the most serious aspect of the affair, " he saidgravely. "Mrs. Aliston is right; an overdose of that drug would be fatalto you. Your life has been jeopardized. I agree with Mrs. Aliston, yourinvestigation _is_ in the hands of bunglers; let us hunt these fellowsdown. "

"I will see that an officer is telegraphed for at once; but--shall Isend to the regular bureau, or--how?"

"There is one man in the city, if he _is_ in the city now, who isqualified for the position he holds. He has withdrawn himself from theregular force, and acts solely on his own responsibility. He is muchsought after, and possesses wonderful abilities; some of his exploitshave been truly astounding. "

"And this man is--"

"Mr. Lamotte; Mr. Francis Lamotte, " announced a servant. 

"Show them in, " said Constance, at the same time gathering up the pieceof cambric and the little vial and putting them in her pocket. 

Doctor Heath arose, and taking up his hat, murmured an apology. 

"I have a patient at this hour, Miss Wardour, and will call again duringthe day. You will not stand in need of my counsel now, " smilingly. "Mr. Lamotte can give you all needful advice, and he is sure to be right, "and Doctor Heath bowed himself out. 

"The Wardour diamonds, " he muttered, as he mounted his horse. "And tothink that they almost cost her her life; a skilled hand was it? Well, when the detective comes, I, too, may have a clue for him. "

CHAPTER III. 

A SAMPLE OF THE LAMOTTE BLOOD. 

Mr. Jasper Lamotte is a tall man, a dark man, and a stately man. He isgrave of speech, yet very suave and pleasing. He is open handed andcharitable, and a very popular man among the people of W----. He willrein in his blooded horses to ask after the health of his factory hands, and doff his hat to the wife of his humblest tenant. He has been formany years a resident of W----. Years ago he was a great traveler, coming and going almost incessantly, but, after a time, he built thelargest and newest of the W---- mills, and settled himself down to rearhis family, and attend in person to his "bales and shekels. "

Francis Lamotte is, what his father has been, a tall, dark eyed, sallowskinned young man, with a Greek profile, a profusion of curling duskyhair, a soft slow voice, a sweet and most pleasing smile; aristocratichands and feet, a most affable manner; a very agreeable companion, and adutiful son and brother. So saith W----. Such is Francis Lamotte, andbeing such, he is voted, with one consent, the handsomest young man inW----. Francis Lamotte, too, is popular with the people of W----;handsome and fascinating, the son of a father whose fortune is said tobe enormous; he is welcomed in every household circle, and he bringspleasure and courtesy wherever he enters. 

"Constance, my child, what is this that I hear?" exclaims JasperLamotte, taking the hand of Miss Wardour as she advances to meet him. "Have they not exaggerated the truth? The village is full of rumors. "

"Constance, good morning, " breaks in Francis Lamotte. "Father's head isa little turned by all this. _Have_ you had a burglar? _Have_ theystolen the Wardour diamonds? And _are_ you frightened to death? And, "with a malicious glance toward Mrs. Aliston, who had forsaken her windowand was rolling slowly towards them, serene, and dignified, "did theybind and gag dear Mrs. A--?"

"Yes, yes! and no, no!" says Constance, cutting off the retort that wasrising to the lips of her aunt. "Be seated, Mr. Lamotte; sit down Frank. I have 'had a burglar, ' they did steal my diamonds. But--well, they didnot frighten me for I was not aware of their presence, and they did notbind Aunt Honor for they--"

"Hadn't rope enough, " interrupts that lady, at which they all laugh. 

"But seriously, Constance, " resumes Lamotte _pere_, "this is a badbusiness; a _very_ bad business; good gracious! are we all to be robbedat the pleasure of these rascals? plundered whenever their pockets rundry? It's abominable! What has been done? There should be an officer onthe spot now. "

"So there is, " breaks in Aunt Honor, with suspicious sweetness. "Constable Corliss and Mayor Soames, are examining the library anddressing room. "

Mr. Lamotte retains his gravity, but after exchanging demure glances, and in spite of themselves, Constance and Francis Lamotte laughoutright. 

"Then, my friends, let us await a revelation, " Francis drawls in themost approved "camp meeting" fashion. 

"Poor Corliss!" Mr. Lamotte smiles slightly; "at any rate he will try todo his duty. But, Constance, you should have an officer here as soon aspossible; I should not come here venturing my suggestions but I learned, accidentally, that your lawyer O'Meara, is absent; that is anothermisfortune. O'Meara has a long clear head; would not make a baddetective himself. As he _is_ away, and you need some one to act foryou, why, I place myself at your disposal; if you have not alreadyappointed an agent, " with another smile. 

"I have made no move in the matter, Mr. Lamotte; indeed, I have hardlyhad time to think, as yet. I suppose, too, that we have lost valuabletime, and yet we can't get a detective down here in a moment. Pray takewhat measures you deem best, and let us have the _best_ officer that wecan get. I am especially anxious to capture the thieves if possible--andthe diamonds--of course. "

"England expects every man to do his duty, " quoted Francis. "Constancegive me an appointment, too. "

"So I will, " retorted Constance, wickedly. "I think you are eminentlyfitted to assist--Mr. Corliss. "

"Frank, be serious, " says Mr. Lamotte, with a touch of severity. "NowConstance, let us do what we can to make up for this unavoidable loss oftime; first tell me, as minutely as you can, just how this robbery wasdiscovered. "

"It's a very brief story, " says Constance, smiling slightly, and thenshe narrates, in a somewhat hurried manner, as if she were weary of thesubject, and wanted to have done with it, the events of the morning, omitting, however, to mention the finding of the chloroform vial, andthe half square of cambric. 

"Mr. Soames and the constable--and several more, were on the spot withgreat promptness, " finished she, with a comical glance toward Mrs. Aliston. 

"We overlooked their proceedings until we discovered that they would dono actual damage, but would leave everything exactly as they found it, and then--"

"Yes, " interrupted Francis, with a queer smile upon his lips, "and thenyou found a more agreeable occupation. "

"And then, " continued Constance, as if she had not heard him, butreturning his half-malicious look with interest, "Dr. Heath called, andI told him all about it. He is very clear headed and sensible, and I wassorry his time was so limited; he might have been of some assistance, and--"

"Too bad, " again broke in young Lamotte, with something very like asneer upon his handsome face. "Let me repair the damage. I'll tell himto call--"

"Oh, not at all, Frank; pardon my interruption, " said the girl, turningher eyes full upon him with artful artlessness. "You are very good, butit's quite unnecessary. Dr. Heath promised to call again during the dayor evening. "

Frank Lamotte bit his lip, but kept silent; and the elder man came tothe rescue. He had been thinking, and without seeming to have noticedthe little passage at arms, he arose and said: "Well, Constance, I don'tsee that talking will do much good just now; what the occasion demandsis action. My first impulse was to telegraph at once for an officer fromthe city force, but, on reflection, I think it better not to use thetelegraph. Our every movement may be closely noted, and to send amessage would be to set some one watching for the arrival of adetective, and once his identity becomes known, farewell to hisprospects of success. It will take a few hours longer to get him here, but I think I had better visit the city in person, lay the case beforeour man, and so enable him to enter the town prepared for his work, andable to maintain his incognito. I have business of my own in the city, and Mrs. Lamotte is anxious to do some shopping. Women are alwaysanxious to shop, I believe. I will return home at once, and give herwarning; it will look less like a business trip if she accompanies me. How does this plan suit you?"

"Any plan that brings us a competent officer as early as possible, willsuit me, " replied Constance. "It's _very_ good of you to take all thistrouble, Mr. Lamotte. "

"Nothing of the sort, " expostulated Mr. Lamotte, heartily. "I am alwaysat the service of my daughter's dearest friend. By the by, Sybil is notyet aware of your loss. I did not enlighten her, for I knew she wouldinsist upon coming with me, and that, " smiling a little, "would havenecessitated waiting for toilette. "

"And apropos of toilettes, " cried his son, springing up. "There is_Mere_, she will want due warning, for nothing short of a full hour willshe take. So, sir, let's take a look at Soames and Corliss, and hastenour departure. "

"Right; quite right, Frank, I will appoint you as my representative inmy absence. You are to execute any and all of Miss Wardour's commands. "

"I am ready to do that at any and all times, " replied the young man, with sudden gravity, and letting his dark eyes rest for a moment uponthe face of the lady in question. And then, without waiting for ananswering remark, he turned from the room, followed by his father andthe two ladies. 

[Illustration: "I am ready to do that at any and all times. "]

They found Corliss making his final sprawl, and the entire committee ofinvestigation ready with any quantity of newly hatched theories, probable and improbable. Cutting short their eloquence, however, Mr. Lamotte recommended them to talk as little as possible among thetownspeople, and to pursue the investigation quietly, after their ownlight. Then, after a few more words with the fair heiress, father andson took their leave. 

Left alone, Constance sprang lightly out from the open library window, and began pacing the graveled walk, with a brow wrinkled in thought. Hearing a step behind her, she turned to encounter once more the gaze ofFrancis Lamotte. 

"I beg your pardon, " he said, quite humbly. "I was commissioned by Sybilto give you this, " extending a dainty white note. "In the excitement ofthe morning I quite forgot it. Sybil gave me it last evening, asking meto deliver it this morning, " and lowering his voice, "knowing it wouldbe for me an exceedingly delightful mission. "

Constance took the missive, and twisting it carelessly in her fingers, said:

"Of course, Frank; many thanks. And now, as you are under my commands, Iforbid any more flattery and nonsense, sir. I am not in the mood toretort. "

"So much the better for me, " muttered the young man, moodily. "Constance, I--"

"Silence, sir! Have you not received your orders? My mind is on mylosses. If you can think of no way to further our search, I shalldismiss you. "

"I have thought of a way, then, " he replied, with a touch of dignity. "Ithink one point has been overlooked. Those robbers have undoubtedly fledthe town with their treasure, but it is hardly likely that they went byany very public thoroughfare. Now one, two or more strangers, travelingacross the country, may have been seen by some cottager, farmer, or woodcutter; and I think it would be a mistake to neglect what might give usa clue. Probably the rascals took to their heels during the hours ofdarkness, making for some small railroad station. Now, I propose to gostraightway, mount my horse, and scour the country in search ofinformation. If I find a clew I shall follow it up; and so, if you don'tsee me by to-morrow morning, Constance, you may know that I have struckthe trail. "

"Why, Frank, " cried Constance, in a burst of outspoken admiration. "Ididn't think it was in you! Really, I admire you immensely; and you willreally abandon your ease and comfort for--"

"You. "

"No, don't put it in that way; say for justice. "

"I don't care a fig for justice!" impatiently. "My motive is purelyselfish. If I can be instrumental in recovering your diamonds, may I nothope for some very small reward?"

"To be--sure, Frank. I had overlooked that; a reward of course. I meanto have posters out right away, and--you may as well earn it as anyone. "

Francis Lamotte turned swiftly and stood for a moment with bent, avertedhead; then turning once more toward her a set, white face, he said:

"Even your cruelty shall not prevent me from serving you to the fullestextent of my power. And while I am gone you will receive--" he broke offabruptly, then went on, speaking huskily. "Constance, a girl like youcan know little of the life led by a man who is an enigma even to hisfellow men. I wish I could teach you to distrust--"

She lifted one hand, warningly. "You can teach me to distrust no onebut yourself, Frank; and please don't perpetually talk of me as someunsophisticated school girl. I am twenty-one, nearly as old as you, mychild, --old enough, certainly, to form my own judgment of people andthings. Don't let's quarrel, Frank; you know I have been taughtself-reliance, and never submit to dictation. "

"As the queen pleases;" he lifted his hat with a graceful gesture. "Good-morning, Constance, " and he turned and strode rapidly away. 

"Frank. "

He stopped and turned toward her, but did not retrace his steps. 

"Are you really going, _a la Don Quixote_?"

"I really am, " gravely. 

He lifted his hat once more, and without uttering a word, resumed hisrapid walk down the graveled footpath. Reaching the entrance to thegrounds he paused, leaning for a moment against a stone pillar of thegateway; his hands were clenched until the nails left deep indentationsin the flesh; his face was ghastly and covered with great drops ofperspiration, and, whether the look that shone from his glittering darkeyes betokened rage, or despair, or both, an observer could not haveguessed. 

Meanwhile, Constance stood as he had left her, gazing after him with amingled expression of annoyance and regret. 

"It was very ungracious of me, " she thought, half penitently, "butthere's no other way with Frank, and his love-making annoys meexceedingly, especially since Aunt Honor's discovery. How she detestshim, and Aunt Honor is too easy to lavish her hate upon many. "

As if conjured up by her words, Mrs. Aliston appeared at the window. 

"Handsome fellow, isn't he?" that is what her lips said, but the toneand look said quite as plainly, "detestable, abominable, odious. " ForMrs. Aliston believed that she had discovered a good reason fordisliking Frank Lamotte. 

"Don't be exasperating, Aunt Honor, " retorted Constance, re-entering thewindow with a slow, languid movement, as if the events of the morninghad wearied her vastly. "Everybody has outdone themselves in thedisagreeable line, myself included. I wish the burglars had carried meoff along with my jewels. I am going up-stairs and try another dose ofburglarious chloroform. But, first, " dropping into the nearest chair, and assuming a tragic tone, "Let me peruse the letter of my belovedSybil. "

She broke the seal of the dainty envelope, to find that it enclosedanother and still smaller one; and on this she read:

 Constance, if I did not trust you so fully, I would not dare risk this: Do not open this envelope until sunset of to-morrow (Saturday); the contents will enlighten you as to my reasons for this strangeness _then_. 

There was no signature, but the handwriting of Sybil Lamotte was toofamiliar to be mistaken. And, Constance Wardour sat silent andmotionless, gazing at the little envelope with such a look of intensegravity upon her face as had not rested there during the entiremorning. 

Mrs. Aliston, who was a woman of tact, and understood her niecethoroughly, seemed not to have noticed the unopened envelope, and askedfor no news from Sybil. 

Presently, Constance arose, and, still wearing that weary air and solemnface, crossed the room; with her hand upon the door, she turned her facetoward Mrs. Aliston, saying:

"Auntie, you hear about all that's going; did you ever hear that therewas a streak of insanity in the Lamotte blood?" And then, withoutwaiting for the astonished lady to reply, she quietly passed out and upthe broad stairs. 

CHAPTER IV. 

SYBIL'S LETTER. 

It is almost sunset, and Constance Wardour is standing alone at herdressing-room window, which faces the west. It is still in confusion, but she cares little for that. Her thoughts are far away from the"Wardour diamonds" at this moment. Several things have occurred to vexand annoy her to-day, and Constance Wardour, heiress and autocrat, isnot accustomed to being annoyed. 

In fact, so peculiar is her nature, that very few things have power toannoy her; but, just now, she is annoyed because she _is_ annoyed. 

"As the queen pleases, " Frank Lamotte had said; and all her fairtwenty-one years of life events had been ordered "as the queen pleased. "She had been taught self-reliance, so she told him; she had inheritedself-reliance, she might have said, inherited it along with the rich, strong, fearless blood, the haughtiness, the independence, and theintolerance of the Wardours. 

The haughtiness was only for those who presumed; the intolerance forthose she despised; and Miss Wardour was quite capable of that strongsentiment, or feeling. The independence was an ever present element ofher nature. 

Of medium height, she was neither slender nor plump, graceful curves, perfect outlines, faultless gait and gesture; she, "slew her tens ofthousands, " and bore herself like a princess royal toward all. 

Without being regularly beautiful, her face is very fair to see. Being, in spite of her haughtiness, most kind and considerate toward inferiorsand dependents, and withal exceeding lovable, she is disqualified for anovel heroine by her excessive humanness; and, by that same humanness, eminently qualified to be loved by all who know her, gentle and simple. 

Just now her firm little mouth is pursed up, and her brow is wrinkledinto a frown, such as never is seen on the face of any orthodox heroine;but, her thoughts are very orthodox, as heroines go. She is wonderingwhy Doctor Heath has not made his second appearance at Wardour Place, when she so plainly signified her desire to see him there, again, andsoon. 

Not that she had bidden him come in so many words; but, had she notlooked? had she not smiled? Not that she felt any special interest inDr. Heath; oh, not at all, only she was bored, and worried, and wantedto be amused, and entertained; and Clifford Heath _could_ beentertaining. 

Sybil Lamotte's unopened note lies on the dressing table. She haspondered over that half the afternoon, and has wondered, and guessed, atits meaning; turning over in her mind every explanation probable, andpossible, but satisfied with none. She is wonderfully lacking incuriosity, for a woman, but for this she might not have withstood thetemptation to anticipate the sunset; for she never has felt so curiousabout a mystery in her life. 

She turns abruptly from the window, and her eyes fall upon Sybil's note, her thoughts return to it again. But it is not quite sunset. 

Picking it up, she re-reads for the twentieth time the puzzling lines, then she throws it down impatiently. 

"Bah!" she exclaims; "You wretched little white enigma! you are temptingme to forget myself. I shall flee from the fascination of yourmysterious face, for I am quite certain that Joshua's chariot is abroad, and the sun is standing still in the skies. "

So saying, she goes out, closing and locking the dressing-room door, anddescends the stately stairs; at their foot she pauses in full view ofthe entrance, for there, hat in hand, appears the subject of her recentdiscontent, Doctor Heath. Surely there must be something depressing inthe atmosphere, Constance thinks, as she goes forward to meet him; forhis face wears a grave, troubled look not usually seen there. 

"Oh, Doctor Heath, " she says, half reproachfully, and fabricating afterthe manner of her sex, "here I have been trying to evoke from my 'innerconsciousness' what manner of man your great detective might be. Youbarely introduced him, and then you flitted; and I do so much dislikethe 'To be continued' style. "

"So do I, " he replies, soberly, as he follows her into the drawing room. "So much that I shall make the story I have come to tell, as brief asmaybe. Miss Wardour, have you heard any news from the town--sincenoon?"

"Not a word, " moving across the room, and drawing back the curtain sothat the last rays of sunlight fall across the floor. "Is there anynews? Have they found a trace of my robbers?"

"For the time being, your robbers, are forgotten, " smiling slightly. "W---- has had a fresh sensation this afternoon. "

"So! and I have become a lesser light? Well, so goes the world! Ofcourse it won't be as interesting as the story of my own woes; but, whois the newest candidate for sensational honors?"

"Your friend, Miss Sybil Lamotte. "

Instantly her careless tone changes to one of gravity. For a moment shehas forgotten Sybil, and her note; now she remembers both, andinvoluntarily glances out toward the west. The sun is almost gone, butstill darts red gleams across the sky. Moving nearer she seats herself, and scans his face a moment, and then, while she motions him to a seatopposite her, says, in that low even tone that is usual to her in allserious moods. 

"And what of Sybil Lamotte?" Her eyes search his face; instinctively sheknows that something serious has happened; she dreads, yet, with hernatural bravery, resolves to hear the worst at once. 

"She has--eloped. "

"Eloped! But why? Sybil eloped--then it must be with Ray Vandyck, "drawing a breath of relief. 

"No, " gloomily. "It is _not_ Raymond Vandyck. That would have beensimply a piece of romantic folly, since no one would long oppose Ray, but this--this thing that she has done, is worse than folly, it iscrime, madness. "

"Not Ray! and yet Sybil lo--Doctor Heath tell the whole truth, the veryworst, quickly. "

"Sybil loved Raymond Vandyck, that is what you were about to say, MissWardour. You would have betrayed no secret; poor young Vandyck honors mewith his confidence. I left him, not half an hour ago, prostrate, halfmaddened with grief and rage; grief, when he thinks of Sybil lost tohim, and fury when he thinks of the man she has chosen. I never saw him;but if the public voice speaks truth, John Burrill is all that is vulgarand corrupt. "

"_John Burrill!_" Constance springs to her feet with eyes flashing. "John Burrill! Why, he is a brute; mentally, morally, physically, _abrute_. And you couple his name with that of Sybil Lamotte? DoctorHeath, this is an infamous trick. Some one has lied to you. You havenever seen him, you say; if you _had_ you could not have been duped. _I_know him, as one grows to know any notorious character in a town likethis, from seeing him reeling intoxicated through our streets, fromhearing of his most startling escapades; a common lounger, a drunkard, aman with a divorced wife in our very midst. Doctor Heath, I know you areincapable of such a jest, but tell me who has caused you to believe athing so shameful?"

[Illustration: "John Burrill! Why, he is a Brute!"]

"I thank you for your faith in me, " he says, with the shadow of a smileupon his face. "The story is shameful indeed, but it is _true_. SybilLamotte has eloped, and with John Burrill. Listen, before youremonstrate. This afternoon at two o'clock, John Burrill, with a swifthorse and shining new carriage, drove boldly up to the side entrance ofMapleton Park. There, Sybil Lamotte was awaiting him; he handed her tohis carriage and then drove ostentatiously through the town taking thewest road. It appears, that for several days, Burrill had been droppinghints in his sober moments, and boasting openly in his cups, of hiscoming marriage with one of the belles of W----, and, last evening, heopenly avowed that to-day, he should 'carry off Miss Sybil Lamotte, inspite of her high and mighty family, and in the face of all the town. 'Of course, no one who heard regarded these things, save as the bombastof a half drunken braggart and liar. To-day, young Evarts and his stillwilder chum, encountered him just setting forth with his fine turnoutand wonderfully gotten up. They jested on his fine appearance, and foronce he evaded their questions, and seemed anxious to be rid of them. This piqued their curiosity, and, ripe for mischief, as usual, theyresolved to follow him. 

"They were mounted when they met him, having just ridden into town. Theysaw him stop at Mapleton and take up Miss Sybil, from there theyfollowed them westward. Burrill drove at the height of his horse'sspeed, and the boys, who followed at a distance, arrived at Milton (youwill see their policy in avoiding the railroad towns), ten milesdistance, to find that Burrill had changed horses there, and drivenaway, still westward, at the same break-neck pace. Burrill's horse wasbadly used up, short as the drive had been, and the man who took it incharge said that the fresh horse was brought there by him, Burrill, yesterday, and that he had heard the lady complain that they 'could notgo fast enough. '"

He ceases, and his eyes rest anxiously on her face. She does not seem tohave observed that he is not speaking. She has heard every word, and, somehow, the conviction has been growing even in advance of his story, that it is all true. This will explain Sybil's strange letter, and--thatletter! what does it contain? She turns and gazes, as if fascinated, towards the west. There are no more golden gleams athwart the windows, only a dull red flush upon the horizon. The sun, at last, has set. 

At last! She turns, rises slowly and without once glancing toward himbegins to pace the length of the room, and he sees that the queenly MissWardour is for once, unnerved, is struggling for composure. 

Finally she speaks, still keeping up her slow promenade. 

"Dr. Heath, I am bewildered. I am terrified! I--" She breaksoff suddenly, as if to modify her speech. "This can be nocommon--elopement, " she winces at the word. "Sybil is refined, honestand true-hearted, and she loves--another. There must be something yet, to be understood, and, " with a sudden startled look in her eyes, "perhaps this might have been prevented; perhaps _I_ might haveprevented it if--" another break; then, "Doctor, it is just possiblethat I may find a clue to this strangeness. Will you pardon my absencefor a short time, and await me here? This is a strange request, but--"

"It's a day of strange things, " he interrupts, kindly, seeing heragitation. "Go, Miss Wardour; I am at your service this evening. "

He crosses the room, seats himself at a table, and takes up a book; andConstance stands irresolute for a moment, then, without a word, hurriesfrom the room. 

Up the stairs she flies, hastily unlocks her dressing-room door, enters, and, in a moment, with a courage born of a nervous determination to knowthe worst at once, seizes the mysterious note and breaks the seal. Amoment's hesitation, and then the page is opened, and the lines, only afew, dance before her eyes. She tries to steady her hand; she can notread them fast enough. 

 _Constance, Dear Constance:_

 When you read this, you may have become already aware of the fate I have chosen for myself. I have no explanation to offer. Think of Beauty and the Beast; think of Titania's strange choice; think me mad. But oh, Constance, never censure me; never think that all the happy days, when you have been my friend, I was not worthy that friendship. And, Con. , don't let _others_ say things too bitter about me. Am I not dead to myself, and to you all? and for the dead, have we not charity only? Constance, I wish I were buried, too. 

 SYBIL

 P. S. --Con. , never let my relatives see this note. They will have enough to bear. 

So runs the note. 

Half an hour later, Constance Wardour comes quietly into thedrawing-room. So quietly, that her approach is not observed by Dr. Heath, until her voice breaks the silence, and he starts up from thereverie in which he has been indulging, to see her standing before him, with pale cheeks, and troubled, anxious eyes. 

"Has my rudeness been quite unpardonable?" she says, appealingly. "Truly, I have had no idea of the flight of time. I have been sitting upthere, " motioning toward the upper floor, "stunned, and yet trying tothink. I have gained a little self-possession, " smiling slightly, as shesinks into a seat, "but not my senses. I thought myself equal to mostemergencies, but this is more than an emergency, --it is a mystery, aterror! For the first time in my life, I can't think, I can't reason. Idon't know what to do!"

It is her turn to speak in riddles; his, not to comprehend. But, being aman, he closes his lips and waits. 

"Something terrible has befallen Sybil Lamotte, " she goes on, graduallyregaining a measure of her natural tone and manner. "I need an adviser, or I had better say, a confidante, for it amounts to that. You knowSybil, and you know poor Ray. You are, I believe, a capital judge ofhuman nature. This morning, just after you left, as you know, Mr. Lamotte and his son called here, and Frank put in my hand this note fromSybil. " For the first time he observes the letter which she holdsbetween her two hands. "For reasons stated on the outside of theenvelope, which was enclosed in another, I did not break the sealuntil--now. It may seem like violating Sybil's confidence, but I feeljustified in doing what I do. I have no one to advise me, Aunt Honorbeing worse than myself in a crisis like this; and I believe that bothSybil and I can trust you. Dr. Heath, please read that letter. "

He looks at it doubtfully, but does not take it from her extended hand. 

"You are sure it is best?" hesitatingly. "You wish it?"

"I wish it, " with a touch of her natural imperiousness; "I believe it isbest. "

Silently he takes the letter from her hand, silently reads the linesupon the envelope, while she thinks how sensible he is not to haveuttered some stereotyped phrase, expressive of his sense of the highhonor she does him by giving him so much of her confidence. 

Still in silence, he opens and reads the letter, then lays it down andthinks. 

At last she grows impatient. "Well, " she exclaims, "are you, too, stricken with something nameless?"

He leans toward her, his arm resting upon the table between them, hiseyes fixed gravely upon her face, "Miss Wardour, does your faith in your friend justify you in complyingwith her wishes?"

"Most assuredly, " with a look of surprise. 

"In spite of to-day's events?"

"In spite of _any thing_!"

He draws a long, sighing breath. "Oh, " he says, softly, "it would beworth something to possess _your_ friendship. Now, --do you really wishfor my advice?"

"Have I not asked for it, or, rather, demanded it, like a truehighwayman?"

"Then here is your case: You have a friend; you trust her fully; nothingcan shake your faith in her. Suddenly, she does a thing, shocking, incomprehensible, and, in doing it, asks you not to question, for shecan not explain; asks you to think of her kindly; to trust her still. Here is a test for your friendship. Others may pry, drag her name about, torture her with their curiosity; she has appealed to you. Respect hersecret. Let her bury it if she will, and can; you can not help her. Ifshe has become that bad man's wife, she is past human help. Undoubtedlythere is a mystery here; undoubtedly she has acted under the control ofsome power outside herself; but she has taken the step, and--it is_done_!"

She draws a long, sighing breath. "You are right, " she says, wearily, "your wisdom is simple, but it _is_ wisdom, and I thank you for it; but, oh! if they could have been intercepted. If I could have known--haveguessed. "

He smiles oddly. "You do not consider, " he says, "how cunningly theirplans were laid; doubtless they have been waiting some such opportunity. At twelve o'clock, Mr. Lamotte and wife started for the city. "

"In my service, alas!"

"At one, Frank Lamotte mounted his horse and rode eastward. "

"Alas! also to serve me. "

"At two o'clock, the coast was clear, and the flight commenced. When itbecame known, search was made for Evan, as the only member of the familywithin reach of a warning voice. They found him in a beer saloon, in astate of beastly intoxication. "

"Oh!"

"Of course he was surrounded by a crowd, eager to see and to hear how hewould receive the news; and the work of sobering him up was at oncecommenced. It took a long time to make him comprehend their meaning, butafter a while the name of his sister, coupled with that of John Burrill, brought him staggering to his feet, and a few moments later, a plainstatement of the facts, hurled bluntly at him by one of the loungers, sobered him completely. In an instant he had laid his informantsprawling in the saloon sawdust. He declared it a calumny, as you did, and declared war upon the lot of them. Soon kinder hands rescued himfrom these tormentors, and men he could not doubt convinced him of thetruth of the unhappy affair. And then, any who saw would have pitiedhim. The boy is wild and bad, but he has a heart, and he loves hissister. Poor fellow! he is not all bad. "

"Poor Evan!"

"He telegraphed at once to his father, and then set out for Mapleton, looking like the ghost of himself, but carrying a freshly filled flask. "

"Of course, " mournfully. 

"He would have started in pursuit, had they not convinced him of thefolly of such an undertaking. "

"Folly, indeed, for him. "

"And now, Miss Wardour, we have arrived at the end of certainty, and toenter into the field of conjecture is useless. The time may come whensome of us may be of actual service to this most unhappy friend ofyours. I confess that I wait with some curiosity the movements of herparents in the matter. "

"They will take her from him, at once. They will buy him off; compelhim--anything to get her back. "

"Perhaps; but--she may resist them. Think of that letter. "

"True. Ah me! I can't think. Doctor Heath, I have kept you herestarving. I had forgotten that dinner ever was, or could be. You shalldine with Aunt Honor and myself; and, for the present, we will not speakof poor Sybil's flight to her. She would run the entire gamut ofspeculation, for she is very much given to 'seeing through things, ' andI can't bear to talk too much on this subject. I should get angry, andnervous, and altogether unpleasant. I say, 'you will stay;' _will_ youstay?"

He has never before been invited to dine at Wardour Place, except whenthe dinner has been a formal one, and the guests numerous; but heaccepts this invitation to dine _en famillé_, quite nonchalantly, and asa thing of course. 

So he dines at Wardour Place, and talks with Aunt Honor about therobbery, and listens to her description of the splendid Wardourdiamonds, and looks at Constance, and thinks his own thoughts. 

[Illustration: So he dines at Wardour Place. ]

After dinner Aunt Honor occupies herself with the evening paper; and, after a while, Constance and Doctor Heath pass out through the low, broad French window, and stand on the balcony. The light from withinfalls upon them and that portion of the balcony where they stand. Thereis a young moon, too; and just beyond is a monster oak, that spreads itsgreat branches out, and out, until they rustle, and sway above the lowerhalf of the long balcony, and rap and patter against the stone walls. 

"Have you thought, " asks Constance, as she leans lightly against theiron railing, "that to-morrow is Sunday, and that Mr. Lamotte, unless hehas already returned, can not reach home until Monday?"

"It has occurred to me. "

"And poor Sybil! Where will she be by then?"

"Miss Wardour! What disinterestedness! I thought you were thinking ofyour detective. "

"My detective! Why, what a lot of stupid people! He might as well notcome at all. Why didn't you tell me to telegraph at once?"

"Because Mr. Lamotte was coming. I depended upon him. "

"And he has made a blunder. "

"Not necessarily. "

"Why?"

"He may have seen an officer immediately, and the man may be now on theway, by the night train. He will be sure to be here before Monday, or heis no detective. They depend very little on the regular trains. "

"Oh; I am enlightened! All the same, I shall never see my diamondsmore. "

"You don't seem much troubled. "

"Pride, all pride! I'm heart broken. "

"You are a most _nonchalant_ young lady. "

"Yes, --it's contagious. "

Then they both laugh, and relapse into silence. Presently, she says:

"We are sure to have the wrong man. Why did you not tell me the name ofyour great detective, so that I might have commissioned Mr. Lamotte tobring him? That man has been in my mind all day. You have made meenamored of him. "

"Why?" laughing indulgently; "I barely mentioned him. "

"No matter; you say he is a splendid officer?"

"There is no better. I know of none as good. "

"And his name?"

"A very romantic one: Neil J. Bathurst. "

"Why!" stepping suddenly to the window. "Aunt Honor!"

"Well, " replies Mrs. Aliston, from behind her newspaper. 

"What is the name of your wonderful detective, who brought those twomurderers from Europe, and had them properly hung?"

"Mr. Neil Bathurst. Why, my dear?"

"Oh, nothing special, auntie;" then returning to the window, "Auntienever loses trace of a crime or a trial in high life. I have heard hertalk of this man's splendid exploits, by the hour. She is a walkingcatalogue in all aristocratic sensations. So this is your great man?Well, if he is in the city, we must have him. Mr. Lamotte shall bringhis man, or send him; there should be work for two. As for me, I intendto secure the services of Mr. Neil J. Bathurst. "

"He may not be within reach; he is constantly moving, and always busy. "

"No matter. I tell you I want to see this man. "

"That being the case, I may as well present myself. "

They start at the sound of a strange voice near them. There is arustling of leaves, and from one of the great oak's extended branches, aform swings downward, and drops lightly upon the grass, just before theplace where they stand. 

"Who are you?" demands Doctor Heath, sternly, as the eavesdropperapproaches. "And what does this impertinence mean?"

[Illustration: "Who are you?"]

Before they can think, the man approaches the balcony, puts his handsupon the railing, and springs lightly over; standing in the full lightthat falls from within, he doffs his hat like a courtier, and bendingbefore Constance, says, in a voice that is, for a man, singularly richand mellow:

"Madame, I am here at your service. I am Neil J. Bathurst. "

CHAPTER V. 

THE DEDUCTIONS OF A DETECTIVE. 

Both Constance and Dr. Heath fancy that they comprehend the situationalmost instantaneously. The stranger's movements have been so cat-like, his voice so carefully modulated, that Aunt Honor reads on, neverdreaming that an addition has been made to the party. Dr. Heath is thefirst to speak. 

"Upon my word, " he says, with a touch of coldness in his tone; "this isquite dramatic. "

"It's a very good tableaux, " admits the new comer, "but dramatic as thepresent day drama goes? No, it's too naturally brought about, as youwill admit, when I explain my presence here. Your mention of my name, while I lay sprawled across the great branch, within easy hearing, wasrather sensational, to me, but, of course you can explain that. "

By this time Constance has recovered herself, and rises to the occasion;in fact, she rather enjoys the situation; this is one of the emergencieswherein she is quite at home. Without stopping for commonplace remarks, or expressions of surprise, she goes straight to the point. 

"How we came to be discussing you, you must understand, if you arereally Mr. Bathurst, and--have been very long in that tree. "

"I have been 'very long' in that tree, I feel it, " ruefully. "And I _am_Neil Bathurst, detective; never was anybody else, and by the by, here isthis doctor; I heard him giving me a capital 'recommend;' now bid himstep up and identify me, " and he laughs as if he had uttered a capitaljoke. 

Doctor Heath laughs now, as he comes closer and scrutinizes him by thelight from the drawing room. 

"Oh, I recognize you by your voice, which you have not attempted todisguise, and by your--a--assurance. "

"I thought so!" rubbing his hands with a satisfied air. 

"But that physiognomy, I never saw before. "

The detective laughs. 

"No, this is one of my business faces, and you, sir, are one of the fewwho have known me simply as a man, without inference to my occupation; aman like me may be expected to turn up anywhere, but you, sir, are thelast man I expected to see in this place. "

"Nevertheless, I have been an inhabitant of W---- for a year; but enoughof me for the present. Mr. Bathurst, this lady is Miss Wardour, in whoseservice you have been retained. "

Miss Wardour extends a gracious, welcoming hand. 

"Mr. Bathurst has heard me express my desire to know him, " she says, with a little ripple of laughter, "so no more need be said on thesubject. Mr. Bathurst you came as opportunely as a fairy godmother; andnow let us go in and take my aunt into our counsels. "

She lifts the lace curtains and passes in; as she goes, Dr. Heath lays adetaining hand on the detective's arm. 

"Mr. Bathurst, " he whispers; "in W---- I am Dr. Heath, from nowhere. "

"I comprehend, " significantly. 

"Thank you;" then they too pass through the window, and the detectivegoes through the ordeal of presentation to Aunt Honor. 

Mrs. Aliston, being a thorough woman, who knows her perquisites, getsthrough with the necessary amount of astonishment, ejaculations, questionings, and expressions of delight; all things are overcome bytime, even a woman's volubility. And during the flow of her discoursethe detective is communing thus with his "inner consciousness:"

"So we have been retained by this handsome young lady? Well, that'sintelligence! and what does the old lady mean by supposing that Mr. Lamotte has told me this and that? Who the deuce is Lamotte? Why thedeuce don't somebody ask me how I came to be perched in that tree? Dothey think it's the proper thing for detectives to tumble in among themout of the trees and the skies? After all, it is like a drama, for I'llbe blessed if I see any sense in it all. "

"I see you are all more or less attracted by my personal appearance, " hesays, after Aunt Honor has given up the floor. "Now that I think of it, it's _not_ just the thing for a drawing room. "

Mr. Neil Bathurst, or his present presentment, is a medium sized man, attired in garments that have once been elegant, but are now frayed, threadbare, travel worn; his feet are encased in boots that have oncebeen jaunty; his hat is as rakish as it is battered; his face wears thatdull reddish hue, common to fair complexions that have been long exposedto sun and wind; his hair and beard, somewhat matted, somewhatdisordered, may have borne some tinge of auburn or yellow once, but theytoo, have, unmistakeably, battled with the sun, and have come out alight hay color. As Constance looks at him, she, mentally, confessesthat he _is_ certainly the oddest figure she has ever entertained in herdrawing room. 

"I have been wondering just what grade of humanity you are supposingyourself to represent just now, " says Doctor Heath, eyeing himquizzically. 

"What!" with mock humility, "am I thus a failure? Miss Wardour, look atme well; do you not recognize my social rank?"

Constance surveys him afresh, with critical eye. 

"I think, " she says, "I recognize the gentleman tramp; one of the sortwho asks to wash his face before eating, and to chop your wood after. "

"Right!" says the detective. "My self-respect returns; I am _not_ abungler. In the morning I shall be on the ground, to wash my face, andchop your wood; which reminds me, your servants, they must not see mehere. I must depart as I came, and soon. "

"And your search, " asks Constance, "when will that begin?"

"My search?" hesitating oddly. "Oh, that has already commenced. "

"What a curious thing it is that Mr. Lamotte should have secured you, ofall men, " breaks in Aunt Honor. "I did not think it possible Mr. Lamotte--"

"Pardon me, all of you, " breaks in the gentleman tramp. "Something mustbe set right; I will come to the point at once. Who _is_ Mr. Lamotte?_What_ is Mr. Lamotte? I have never seen him; never heard of him. "

"What!" from Constance. 

"Oh!" from Mrs. Aliston. 

"But--" from Doctor Heath. 

"Let me finish, " he interpolates. "Let me tell you just how I happenedto drop down among you to-night. Recently we have had in the cityseveral robberies similar to this of yours, Miss Wardour, as Iunderstand it. Several times we have had a trace or clue, and have hopedto find the robbers, but so far have been baffled. We must necessarilyhave many ways of gathering up information, and I have some methods ofmy own. This is one of them. I have access to the offices of our dailypapers. I have a friend or tool in each. When a special telegram, in theline of criminal intelligence, comes to one of these papers, I am inpossession of its contents before it has reached the compositor's hands. This morning a 'special' arrived at the office of the _EveningBulletin_. I have not with me a copy. It ran:

 MONSTER DIAMOND ROBBERY. 

 [Special dispatch to the Evening Bulletin. ]

 Intelligence has this moment been received, that Wardour Place has been burglarized; and the splendid Wardour diamonds, valued at more than one hundred thousand dollars, stolen, besides money and papers of value. No particulars as yet. 

"This is what brought me here. I came to see if this burglary was thehandiwork of the thieves I have been trying to catch. I came solely onmy own responsibility, not intending to make myself known to the inmatesof this house, but to ferret out things quietly and go my way. Whilelurking in that tree I was surprised to hear myself made the subject ofconversation; and then, impulse led me to respond to this lady'sexpressed desire to see me, and--I presented myself. "

All sit silent, all are astonished, and inclined to think this oddcomplication out quietly. 

Constance is the first to see the absurdity of the situation, and shebreaks into a peal of laughter, in which she is presently joined by theothers. Finally, she regains her composure and says:

"And so after all you are not our detective. Well, that shall notprevent us from appropriating your services. And you want to identifythese robbers if possible? We are all at your disposal--tell us how wecan help you most. "

"You came with scant information, " says Doctor Heath, "and you can'thave been here long, but I'll wager you have picked up something. "

"As to that, " replies the detective, smiling slightly, "I left the cityby the early afternoon express, before your Mr. Lamotte had arrived, you see. Twelve miles from W---- I left the train and boarded a freight;about three miles out I abandoned the freight, quite unceremoniously, while she was pulling up a heavy grade, and tramped into town. I loungedabout, confining myself to the more obscure streets until I had got thestory of the robbery, with full particulars, as far as the gossips knewit. Toward sundown I started in this direction. Stopping on the way, Ibegged a drink of water and a slice of bread, of an old woman, in alittle brown house. She thought me a very well behaved tramp, andinquired after my private history and the condition of my soul. "

Constance laughs. 

"That is old Mrs. Malloy, " she says. "She's very pious and very full ofgossip. "

"Precisely!" replies the detective, wickedly; "she told me how manylovers you had, Miss Wardour; and how many dresses; and just the colorof your eyes, and hair; she told me all about the robbery, and a greatmany more things that were not quite to the point. "

"Of course, " assents Miss Wardour, not at all abashed. "Mrs. Malloy isan oracle. "

"As soon as I could make my escape from her, I came nearer WardourPlace, and made a circuitous survey. Still later, I came upon yourgardener, sitting, ruminating, upon a stone fence, in the rear of thepremises. I found him inclined to be communicative, in fact, he seemedrather desirous to air his notions, and he has some peculiar ones, concerning this robbery. I gave him a drink out of my black bottle, andhe grew quite eloquent. "

"Oh, dear, " interrupts Constance once more. "Then, no doubt, he haspruned away half the garden shrubs. Old Jerry always _is_ seized with adesire to prune things, the moment he has taken a drink. "

"It was getting too dark for pruning, Miss Wardour, and he went to hissupper. Then, I approached the kitchen cautiously, found a comfortablelurking place, close to an open window, and listened to the table talkof the servants. From them I learned the bearings of the library, andso, while you were at dinner, I entered, without difficulty, and haveexplored that room to my entire satisfaction. "

Amazement sits on the face of all three listeners. 

"Well!" ejaculates Dr. Heath, "You are a modest tramp! What did you donext?"

"Next I prowled 'round and round the house, ' examining all the windows, and drawing some conclusions; and then, having seen you, Doctor Heath, through the drawing-room windows, I established myself in yonder tree towait until you should go home, and to waylay you. "

"Much obliged, I'm sure, " says the Doctor, gratefully. "What demoniacdesign had you on my defenseless self?"

"Several; to appeal to your hospitality; to renew an acquaintance, whichin the beginning did me honor; and to quiz you unmercifully. "

"Then I forgive you, " grandiloquently. "And my doors are open to you, and my hand is extended, and the secrets of my bosom are laid bare. ButMiss Wardour has something to say; I see it trembling on her lips. "

"Right, " smiles Constance. "I was about to ask if Mr. Bathurst, havingeffected his object thus far independently, will be satisfied to inspectmy dressing room, the real scene of action, in the ordinary manner andwithout any obstacles in the way. "

"Perfectly, " says the detective, dropping his tone of badinage andbecoming alert and business like at once. "And the sooner the better. Iam anxious to complete my deductions, for my time is limited, and I mustwait for daylight to overlook the grounds more closely than I couldventure to do to-day. "

"We are all anxious for your opinion, and so, will you take one of thoselamps and my keys, or will you have an escort?"

"I wish you to point out to me the exact position of everything thismorning, Miss Wardour. I think we may all go up. "

So they all ascended to the disordered dressing room, and the detectiveseats himself, deliberately, upon the first unoccupied chair, and beginsto look slowly about him. It is not a long survey, and then the safe isexamined. Here he looks at Constance. 

"This has not been done without noise; not loud enough to be heardacross the hall, perhaps, but enough to be heard by a light sleeper, or, indeed, any one who did not sleep too soundly and with muffled ears, say, in that room, " pointing through the curtained arch which dividedthe dressing from the sleeping room. 

"Did you sleep there, Miss Wardour?"

Constance nods, then goes through the arch and returns with a littlephial of chloroform, and a fragment of cambric in her hand. 

She places them before him, telling him quietly how they were foundbefore her that morning. 

The detective takes them, turns them over in his hand, and examines themclosely. 

"Ah!" he exclaims, drawing out the fancifully carved stopper, "thisphial is one of a set. "

[Illustration: "Ah! this phial is one of a set. "]

Doctor Heath nods. "So I thought, " he says, glancing at Constance. 

Once more, and in silence, the detective examines the safe, then he goesquietly about the room not overturning or handling, simply observingclosely; then he says:

"Now, I think I am done here. We will go down, if you please, and I willgive you the benefit of my conjectures. " He puts the bottle and thepiece of linen in his pocket, and turns from the room. Instinctively hetakes the lead, instinctively they follow, naturally according him theleadership. 

When they are once more seated, he turns to Constance. 

"They gave you a very light dose of chloroform, Miss Wardour. "

"Very light, " she replies; "and that was most fortunate for me. "

"How fortunate?"

"Allow me to explain, " interrupts Doctor Heath. "Miss Wardour possessesone of those peculiar constitutions upon which all opiates act withdisastrous effect. It is fortunate that a cautious hand, --I was about tosay a skilled hand, --administered the drug. I could swear that not thehalf of an ordinary dose was given her, for a full dose would haveprostrated her for days; and the quantity it would require to make youor me sleep soundly for half the night, would kill her outright. "

"Ah!" says the detective, softly, to himself. "Ah-h-h!"

"Now I wonder;" it is Mrs. Aliston who speaks. "I _wonder_ how in theworld you knew that they had given my niece only a small dose. "

"Very easily, madame. The phial is very small, and it is now overtwo-thirds full. "

"That, indeed!" murmurs Mrs. Aliston, feeling somehow extinguished, while the others smile at his simple explanation. 

"And now, " says the detective, "for my deductions. First, then, therobbers did not enter these grounds last night for the first time. Theydid not enter the library at random, or because that window could beeasily forced. They, whoever they were, knew their grounds, not onlyfrom without, but from within. The disturbance in the library is only aruse, --the robbers wanted nothing, knew they should find nothing, there. They were not amateurs; yet, somehow, in this case, they bungledsomewhat in their work. Before they approached this house, every thingwas planned, and all was done as planned. They were systematic, therefore successful; and yet--they bungled. They came by theriver, --came in a boat, with oars muffled; they came by the footpathover the river slope, and entered your garden by leaping the fence justbelow the gate, which was locked. Then they followed the footpathsthrough the shrubbery, and straight to that library window. They camethere because they knew it to be the library window, and they wished tocross the library because they knew that from the door of that room theystepped at once upon the stairs, thus having the nearest, easiest andsafest route to Miss Wardour's rooms. Either they found her doorunlocked, or they were prepared with skeleton keys. Was the door locked, Miss Wardour?"

"It was locked. "

"It was locked. They then used a skeleton key, entered, and knowing justthe proportion of chloroform Miss Wardour could bear, they administeredit carefully, secured the booty without further trouble, and made theirescape without detection. "

No remarks from his listeners. They sit amazed, incredulous, admiring, yet speechless. 

"Now, I see I had better prove my statements, " goes on Mr. Bathurst, looking from one to another with a smile of easy superiority. "MissWardour is beginning to think that I _do_ belong to the godmotherspecies, and yet, it's all very simple. "

"No doubt, " retorts Doctor Heath, drily; "yet we are willing to endureyour simple explanation. "

"I say the robbers came by the river, " continues the detective. "Beforesundown I sauntered along the river bank; to-morrow I can show youtraces, indistinct but sufficient, to prove that a boat has been drawnout of the water, and overturned upon the grass; keel, prow andoar-locks have left their traces. There is also the print of a clubbedand muffled oar, above the water mark, where an impatient hand haspushed off the boat. Here is blunder number one. All these traces mighthave been avoided or obliterated. "

He pauses a moment, but his listeners sit, a very respectful audience, and are inclined neither to question or argue. So he continues:

"I said that the robbers entered purposely at that particular window, and because they were familiar with the interior of the house. Now Ihave examined all of the windows of this floor, and I find that a personunfamiliar with the inside of the building, and not aware which of theupper rooms were occupied, would have chosen differently. Thedining-room windows, from without, would seem much more inviting; stillmore, the drawing-room windows. Naturally, our burglars would select awindow which was tolerably easy of access, and where they knew there wasthe least chance of being overheard and observed from above. Now, thedining-room windows are close to the ground, and the awnings cut off allchance for observation from above; but--they knew that Miss Wardour'scoachman sleeps in a small room just in the rear of the dining-room. "

This was too much for Mrs. Aliston. 

"Now, how _did_ you find that out?" she asks, with staring eyes. 

"From my friend, the gardener, " he replies. "Oh, I am quite familiarwith things about here. The very best place for a burglar to operatewould be these windows, " motioning toward the front of the drawing room;"he could stand in comfort on the lower balcony, screened by the upper, and cut away at shutters and panes; but, our burglars knew that MissWardour's rooms were directly above, and that Miss Wardour is a lightsleeper. Now, the very place that would be shunned by an unfamiliarrobber, is this very library window; it is higher than the others, has alittle thicket of shrubs just beneath it, and is overlooked from above, being near an angle, by six windows. But our burglars knew that not oneof those rooms to which the six windows belong, are occupied; and thatthe servants all sleep on the opposite side of the house. Now, then, Isay that the robbers knew Miss Wardour's sensitiveness to the effects ofchloroform; how else can we account for the fact of their giving justenough to cause her to sleep, and not enough to cause any unpleasantafter effects. We can call it a coincidence, but it is one not likely tohappen; Doctor Heath knows that. "

"True, " responds Doctor Heath; "in a matter of this sort one wouldhardly be likely to make so fortunate a blunder, or guess. "

The detective pauses a moment, and then concludes: "My reasons forsaying that the robbers entered the garden by leaping the low fence justbelow the gate, are, first, that gate creaks loudly when opened or shut, and they knew this, and therefore avoided it; and, second, one of them, the heavier of the two, came over with sufficient force to leave theimprint of his right boot heel in the ground. It was the right heel, because the deepest side of the indentation is to the right, and hewould naturally strike the ground with the weight resting on the outsideof the foot; and here, my friends, as the lawyers have it, I rest mycase. "

"And a very clear case it looks, " says Doctor Heath. 

"How easily and naturally you come at these things, " exclaims Constance, in admiration. "It is a, b, c, to you, but it's awful Greek to the restof us. I begin to think detectives are born, not made. "

"You think right, Miss Wardour, " replies Bathurst. "It is the madedetectives who spoil and disgrace our profession. "

"But, " says Constance, with a look of anxiety upon her face; "I am sorryto have it proved that this thing was done by some of our people. I amreluctant to institute a search that may implicate some poor man whosewife and children may live in our very town. "

The detective laughs softly. 

"There it is, " he exclaims. "An amateur must always judge by whatappears uppermost. We detectives, as a rule, always distrust the mostplausible theory. Now look, a skilled burglar is a man of manyresources; a burglar studies his business as I study mine. You have noidea how much misapplied talent goes roaming about of nights with ajimmy and a dark lantern. Now let us suppose this case. A professionalburglar in the course of his wanderings, hears, as would be quitenatural, of the immense value of the Wardour diamonds, and he desires topossess them. Now it's a great prize, and he goes to work with hisutmost care. He has confederates; they come, one or all, and manage togain the necessary information; they may come as tramps, pedlars, whatnot; a talkative servant, a gossiping neighbor, like Mrs. Malloy, orfragments of information picked up here and there may help them to getthe 'lay of the land;' they may even have entered the house, probablyhave, and it may have been last month, or last year; our burglarnourishes his job and studies it carefully. Finally he is ready; hestrikes; he succeeds. I do not say this is the case, understand; Isimply put it as a thing possible; and quite as probable as that thethieves are here in W----. "

Constance muses; she is thinking of various other depredations committedin and about W----; and, as once before she recounted them to DoctorHeath, she enumerates them now, and closes by saying:

"Your burglars keep a sharp eye on us, at all events, Mr. Bathurst. "

"Naturally, " assents the detective; "W---- is a capital field for thatsort of chap. It's a little mine of itself, and will always receive dueattention from the law breakers. By the by, Miss Wardour, these factsyou mention are worth noting; after considering, I think I will remainin W---- during to-morrow. I want to explore about the river, and aboutthis place, a little more. If I may see you to-morrow I would like yourversion of these other older robberies. I keep a record of every crimereported, and, no doubt, have each of these upon my register, but not asI would receive them from you. I do not wish to be seen or known, asacting in this matter; your friend will be here to-morrow, or Monday, and the officer he has chosen should be on the ground before to-morrowmorning. No doubt he will be all that you wish for, and my duties willcall me elsewhere very soon. "

Then they all rise, and standing in a group begin talking. They so muchregret that they can not retain his services, and they are very gratefulto him for so much light as he has thrown upon the subject of therobbery. 

"But wait, " he says, "you are to bear in mind that you _have_ no light;you are in total darkness and ignorance; to-morrow you will have a newofficer, he may evolve a totally different theory. Then discard mine, ornot, as you think fit; in any case, let it be kept exclusively to yourthree selves, for I am very likely to make a second appearance here. Ithink that these burglars of yours are the chaps I am wanting. And, MissWardour, this reminds me, " drawing from his pocket the chloroform vialwrapped in its accompanying linen bit, "may I keep this until morning? Iwill return it to you by Doctor Heath, and, if your officer is not toomuch in the way, will try and see you in person, if you will kindly giveme what facts you can recall concerning those robberies. "

Constance expresses a hope that the officer will not be in the way, andafter they have talked a little more, the detective repeating hiscautions, Constance repeating her regret that he is not to take thecase, as _her_ case; and Mrs. Aliston repeating everything that comesinto her head, they separate, and the two men, looking so oddly unlike, go out into the night. 

Mrs. Aliston is ready to talk, but Constance is in no mood to listen. She cuts short her aunt's elocution, and goes with listless weariness toher own apartments. 

Since the appearance of the detective, a shade of perplexity rested onher face, and over and again her thoughts have repeated the questionwhich now falls from her lips. 

"What does it mean? I am not mistaken; he said, 'here, I am Doctor Heathfrom nowhere. ' I begin to think that life is a mystery. "

For Miss Wardour, hesitating a moment as she passed in from the balcony, had caught the words uttered for the ears of the detective only. 

CHAPTER VI. 

DOCTOR HEATH AT HOME. 

Doctor Heath and the detective went in silence down the wideshrub-bordered walk, to the spot where the doctor's horse awaited him. Here the detective paused suddenly and listened a moment. 

"We should not be seen together, " he said in a low tone. "Do you mountyour horse and ride on slowly, I will follow. "

"But----"

"No buts; I can follow you, never fear; that's my business; do you gostraight home and prepare to admit me on the quiet. Stay--have you anygelatine?"

"No. "

"Any plaster of Paris?"

"No. "

"Any wax?"

"Only a small quantity. "

"Too bad; I must have some. There will be a drug store open?"

"At this hour? oh, yes. "

"Then get me some, half a pound at least. Now move on, I hear a horsecoming down the road. "

"Some farmer going home. Well, I'm off, then. "

"And so am I. "

Half an hour later Doctor Heath was standing in his open doorway, wondering what had become of the detective, when a light touch upon hisshoulder caused him to start suddenly, and turning, he saw the man forwhom he watched, standing behind him, and within the dimly-lighted hall. 

"Are we alone?" whispered the detective; "is the coast clear?"

[Illustration: "Are we alone?"]

"Quite clear; but how the mischief did you get in there, man?"

"Through the door, " replied Bathurst, as he followed his host into acozy parlor, where a shaded lamp burned. "You are not a good sentinel;why, I all but brushed you; have you no sense of feeling, then; why, man, I can recognize a near presence in the darkest room. "

"Now that I think of it, " retorts the doctor, maliciously, "I did feel aqueer sensation in the ends of my thumbs. Make yourself at home now;take that chair, " rolling a comfortable-looking monster close to theround table; "there are segars and--why--I say man, have you eaten anything since you started on this chase?"

"Now you mention it, I distinctly recollect, that I have not. "

"Of course not; I will wake up Mrs. Gray. "

"Pray don't; I couldn't think of eating Mrs. Gray. "

"Nonsense!" laughs his host; "Mrs. Gray is my housekeeper, and she isdeaf as a post. "

"Well, that's a comfort, the deafness. Is she dumb, too?"

"Unfortunately, no; but as I have not been home to dine, she will thinkshe is preparing my supper, and I will tell her you are a patient cometo be treated, and that I am going to give you a bed; here, " tossingsomething which he finds upon a bookcase, across to his guest, "tie yourface up in that rag, before she comes in. She will not give you a secondglance; she never troubles her head about my patients. "

So saying, he goes out, and the detective proceeds to spread out the"rag, " to prepare his bandage. Suddenly he starts; scrutinizes closer, turns it about, and looks again, then----

"Ah!" says Mr. Bathurst; "Oh! really!"

And he folds up his bandage, and puts it in one pocket, whips a cleanpocket handkerchief from another, and substituting it for the "rag, "awaits the coming of his host. 

"Very comfortable quarters, " he muttered, looking about him, "Luxurioustoo; quite so. Our doctor has not forgotten how people ought to live. "

The doctor's "quarters" were all that he described them. Luxurious, comfortable; and luxury and comfort do not always go hand in hand;tasteful, too. Nothing too much; nothing lacking--just the beau-ideal ofa bachelor's parlor. Warm browns brightening here and there into bronze. Books, a great many and of the best. Pictures, a very few, and all rareand beautiful. Bronzes and statuettes in plenty. Bric-a-bric, not any, for no fair and foolish woman has trailed her skirts through theseapartments, leaving traces of her presence in the shape of those smalland costly abominations, yclept "ceramics. "

Presently Doctor Heath reappears, and not long after, Mrs. Gray bears ina heaped-up tray of edibles. Then Doctor Heath sets forth brandy andwine, and informs Mrs. Gray, through the medium of his ten fingers, thatshe is dismissed for the night. 

When she has retired the detective unties his face, and falls upon thefood spread before him, as a hungry man will. While he eats he talks alittle, just a random remark now and then, and his host sits oppositehim, answering his infrequent questions and observations, and thinking. 

In past days, and under very different circumstances, these two men havemet and known each other, and Doctor Clifford Heath is wondering howmuch of his story it will be necessary to tell, in order to explain hispresent position, which, he knows, must seem a most strange one to hisformer acquaintance; for Doctor Clifford Heath, like most of us who havenot passed a vegetable existence, has a history, and a past. 

Of that fact, however, Mr. Bathurst seems quite oblivious, as he washesdown his repast with a glass of brandy and water, and pushes back hischair from the table. 

"Now, then, " he begins, with his usual brisk business manner, "I'mrested and refreshed, and all ready for that white wax, if you please, Doctor Heath. "

"I'm quite curious about that wax, " says the doctor, rising. "Just letme draw away this table and bring up another, it's the easiest way ofdisposing of the dinner things, and will furnish Mrs. Gray with food forcomfortable comment; she takes all such opportunities to disparage'men's ways, ' and as she seems to enjoy them, I make it a point toafford her as many as possible, " making the proposed change as he talks. "Now, then, there's a table and there's your wax. "

"Now something to melt it in and over; I'm going to take an impression. "

There is a little difficulty about getting the necessary articlestogether, but after a while they are all there, and the wax is simmeringin the melting cup. Then the detective takes from his pocket theborrowed bottle of chloroform, and asks for an empty vial. This beinggiven him he pours out the chloroform carefully, and wipes the emptiedbottle. 

"It's a pity I can't keep this bottle just as it is, " he says, eyeingthe cut-glass stopper regretfully, "but it must be returned, of course;and I must do the next best. What's your notion of the original use ofthat little gimcrack?"

He reaches out the bottle and the doctor takes it in his hand saying:"Why, it's from one of those dainty toilet cases used by ladiesprincipally; there will be a set, uniform in size, that are filled withperfumes of various sorts, and larger bottles, of the same pattern, forgoodness knows what use. I have seen the kind, but not the pattern. "

"Well, " says the detective, slowly, "I _think_ that I have seen thepattern; but where? However, " dipping a stick into the melting wax, "Ishall find out, and before very long. "

"I wonder, " says Doctor Heath, stretching out his hand for a freshsegar, "at the fellows leaving such a testimonial as that behind them. What's your theory?"

"I have expected that question from both yourself and Miss Wardour. I amglad she did not ask me. "

"Why?"

The detective takes a spoon and dips up his wax, letting it drip fromthe spoon, drop by drop. It is ready for use, and, without seeming awareof the doctor's presence, he busies himself with his impressiontaking--seeing which, Doctor Heath smokes on, and is silent. 

Finally, his mould is set to cool, and the detective resumes his seat;and, quite ignoring that long neglected monosyllable of inquiry, utteredby his host, begins:

"When the burglars, for, no doubt, there were two of them, entered MissWardour's dressing room, they carried one dark lantern. This, one ofthem took, and crept with it into the sleeping room; here, he was, for amoment, troubled. He had prepared himself with the chloroform, but mustuse his own handkerchief, and that is marked. "

"Oh! a burglar with marked linen!"

"Even so. It's nothing unusual. You reason like a reader of too manynovels. Burglars are not all escaped convicts, blear eyed and hideous;nor do they all go about in fustian. It's the burglar in broadcloththat makes us the trouble. Fustian starves, and steals, and is soonfound out; runs away with its booty, as a dog runs away with its bone. Broadcloth is wiser, just as a skilled workman is wiser than a hodcarrier. It brings to its service tact, study, --who knows what, ofscientific skill? It looks before it leaps; it plans before it executes;and it covers up all traces of its progress, or else leaves a network offalse clues and misleading evidences. Bah! if we had only fustian todeal with, it would not be worth while to be a detective. "

"Granted, " says the doctor, drumming impatiently upon the table, withthe fingers of his strong, white, right hand. "We have to deal with abroadcloth burglar, who marks his linen, and, perhaps, perfumes it. _Was_ it perfumed? I forgot. "

"It was not perfumed. I wish it had been. Yes, ours is a broadclothburglar. When he approached Miss Wardour's bedside, he produced from aconvenient pocket, his stupefying drug; and then he looked about forsomething with which to apply it, and at the same time, no doubt, heberates himself for omitting to provide himself with a plain, smallnapkin, or piece of linen. There was nothing at hand that was not toolarge for his purpose, and too coarse, for he understood the delicacy ofhis undertaking. So, he produced his pocket handkerchief, which, as Isaid before, was marked; he tears off the half bearing the name, but, inhis haste, does not observe that he has left evidence that the name wasthere. He then saturated the linen, and set the bottle upon the nightstand, leaving his two hands free to apply his drug with utmost care. Then he pauses for a moment, to note the effect of his application, orto gaze upon the fair sleeper. And then comes a sound from the outerroom, an impatient call, the click of steel implements, no matterwhat, --he snatches up the dark lantern and, forgetting the bottle, goesout to his comrade. "

"You believe there were two?"

"Yes; there were two. These affairs are seldom operated by one man. "

"You said this evening that they had blundered. It seems to me that theymade a very neat job of the affair. "

"They did blunder. It does look like a neat job to a non-professional, but they have left several flaws in their work. They felt very confidentof future safety, I am sure, for they were shrewd fellows; that'sestablished in my mind. There's a something about this case that puzzlesme, and some queer ideas are drifting through my head, but for thepresent I shall keep them there. About those blunders now. That boatbusiness was the first. There's plain proof; then look at the manner inwhich they stirred up the library. Why, man, didn't you reflect thatthose heavy chairs never could have been overturned by a hasty carelesshand, without coming down with a loud bang? and there are three of them, all thrown down in different positions; every one of them was loweredslowly, carefully. Why, look at that pile of books upon the floor! doyou imagine they were ever tossed down from their shelves, as theyappear to have been, without striking upon the floor or each other, witha thud? I can see the whole operation; one man held the lantern whilethe other disarranged the room. But they did not do it well. That muchof the business looks like the work of an amateur. Perhaps you wonderwhy I did not speak of this to Miss Wardour. I said enough to convinceher that I had studied the matter; I did not wish to exhaust thesubject, that is the business of the man who is to come. And now I thinkI will remove my cast, and then, my dear fellow, I am quite ready toretire, for I feel the need of all the sleep I can get between now andsunrise. "

"Shocking confession, " laughs the doctor, lazily. "Let me tell you it'shighly improper for a detective to get sleepy, or hungry, or tired; theynever do it in print. "

"Which should convince you that they always do out of it. Detectives, mydear sir, are like doctors, their success depends upon the people'sfaith in them, not on their own merits. Now I know that you can't seethrough the anatomy of old Mrs. Grundy, and tell what she had fordinner, unless, to be sure, she had been eating onions; but if Mrs. Grundy doubted for a moment your ability to don your professionalspectacles and peer into the innermost depths of her disordered oldbeing, she would write another name than yours on her books, as favoritephysician. "

"Guide, philosopher and friend, " quotes the doctor, composedly. "LetMrs. Grundy alone, will you, she is one of my best customers. "

"She is not one of my worst, but the world is not _quite_ filled up withMrs. Grundys, else our fortunes were soon made; for instance, up atWardour Place to-night, that seraphic old lady was prepared to receiveall my statements, as Mrs. G---- takes your pills, on faith. But theyoung lady; oh, no! she has too much head for a woman. "

"Why, for a woman?"

"Not got scope enough. 'Woman's kingdom' too small for her; too much topto her head; brow too broad; eyes too full; won't believe a thing istrue, because you say it is true; got to convince her reason. Suchpeople make chaps like you and me lots of bother; won't take us forgranted. "

"Granted we wish them to. "

"Bah! Of course we wish them to! everybody wants to be taken on trust;but there, we can waive this discussion; Miss Wardour will findoccupation for that head of hers for a time at least. My head mustrest. "

"I should think so; you are as full of whimsies as ever, when off duty, and since to-night I accept you as a detective, _a la_ 'Mrs. Grundy, 'just follow me now, Sir Tramp. By the way, how will you get out of herein the morning?"

"Leave that to me. By the way, don't disturb my wax work. I will leavethe bottle and linen; do you restore them to Miss Wardour to-morrow atthe earliest hour possible to a caller. I shall present myself in my owntime and way, governed, of course, by circumstances, and it is probablethat you will not see me again for some time. Therefore let me say, thanks for your hospitality. Call on me when you want a service, andgood night. "

So saying he vanishes into an inner room, the door of which the doctorhas just now thrown invitingly open. As the door closes quickly, and inhis very face, Clifford Heath stares blankly at it, and for a momentstands so, looking half bewildered. 

Finally a look of amusement crosses his face, and he returns slowly tohis seat beside the table, slowly selects a segar, and slowly lights it. 

"There's a queer customer, " muses he, as he settles himself for acomfortable meditation. "He can go to sleep in the very teeth ofmystery, and wake up, clear headed, in a fog. Now I can't sleep, andI've been awake longer than my allotted time, too. Shades of myancestors! What a day! And, oh, my prophetic soul, what will it bringforth? Well, Doctor Clifford Heath, _as_ Doctor Clifford Heath, what isit to you? You have been honored by the confidence of Constance Wardour, what then? There was no one else in whom she could confide; may she nothonor your judgment without coveting your adoration. Bah! the very factthat she confides in you proves that she cares nothing for you. However, she has a heart for somebody; that is proved by her agitation uponhearing the story, and reading the letter telling of poor SybilLamotte's misery. For undoubtedly in some manner she has been made avictim; can it be that wretched Evan? His agitation to-day bore the lookof remorse, and God knows where dissipation will not lead a man. I knowsomething of that, too. " Here he frowns darkly, and sits for a long timelooking the incarnation of resentment and defiance. 

"Bah!" he mutters presently, "what a blot upon the record of a proudfamily! A father who is a philanthropist and public benefactor; a motherwho is '_une dame sans reproche_;' a brother against whom I can bring nocharge save that he is my rival; a sister, beautiful and good andaccomplished, but that beauty, goodness, culture, are all shipwrecked;how could either live in the same atmosphere with John Burrill, as Ihave heard him described. Evan Lamotte is a black sheep; I should takeit Burrill must be a black dog, or worse, and sheep and dog are owned bythe same family. After all, what is race? a fig for pedigree. It's thedeed that tells. Here in the next room I have a man who claims to benobody. Nothing is said or known about his blood; a great deal is saidand known about his brain, favorably said, too, and honorably known. Heis a detective, and as such, dead to the blue book; it's his business tohunt men down, to pry into secret places, to unmask villainies, and dragto light shameful family secrets; and, for the second time, he hasstumbled upon a secret of mine, and treated it most generously. 

"To-night I say to him, 'know me only as Doctor Heath, from nowhere. 'Another man would have asked for an explanation, when the opportunitycame; but not he. He sits with me, sups with me, sleeps under my roof, and makes no sign that he ever knew me save as I now am. He treats me asa man worthy his confidence, yet asks none of mine. That's what I callsplendid behavior; that's a man worthy to be called a gentleman. Iwonder;" here his countenance darkens, and his eyes look gloomy. "Iwonder what this honorable officer would say if he knew what I didto-night? if he knew, say I! does he not know? how can I tell? he issharp, a lynx; and heaven only knows what mad impulse prompted me to doa mean thing. Bah!" rising and stretching himself; "we are all fools orknaves, or both; when a beautiful woman has dethroned reason and commonsense, and sways us body and soul. I wonder what Constance Wardour wouldsay if she knew? A keen witted detective takes me on trust; will she dothe same?"

There is little of the look of a despairing swain on his face, as heconcludes his soliloquy, and goes out to see that the outer door issecure, before retiring. A trifle pale, a trifle bored, a triflecynical, and a trifle sleepy he looks. He also looks, for a man who hasjust been indulging in a fit of severe self-depreciation, exceedinglyconfident and full of faith in himself. And why not? Let that mandespair who has lost confidence in his own ability to wrest favors fromthe fingers of Fate or Fortune. Despair is not for the brave. 

CHAPTER VII. 

A FALLING OUT. 

Constance Wardour arose early on Sunday morning. In spite of youth, health, and her splendid self-poise, she had slept but little; and suchslumber as had visited her eyelids, had been haunted by hideous dreams, in which detectives and burglars mixed their identity in the mostremarkable manner; and through all, more vivid than all, shone the faceof Sybil Lamotte, always agonized, always appealing, always surroundedby dark shadows, and always seeming menaced, terrified, helpless. Suchnights of tormented slumber, and uneasy wakefulness, were new to themistress of Wardour; and now, while the dew was yet on the grass andflowers, she was promenading her pretty rose garden, where the sun shonefull, looking a trifle paler than was usual to her, and somewhatdissatisfied. 

Mrs. Aliston was still snugly ensconced in her bed, for she never roseearly, and always retired late, her motto being, "Mrs. Aliston first, the world afterward. " That lady of portly dimensions had her peculiartheory of life. To eat the best food obtainable, and a great deal of it;to wear the heaviest silks, and the softest cashmeres; and to sleep inthe downiest of beds; these were to her the necessities of life. Thatthe food was provided from the larder of her niece; that the silks andcashmeres were gracious gifts, and that the downy couch cost hernothing, mattered little; her niece needed her, she needed her niece;_ergo_, her niece sought in every way possible to render her happy andcomfortable; and she, in return for her comfort and happiness, was amodel duenna; never questioning, never criticising, humoring all thatyoung lady's whims, yet retaining that free, hearty out-spokenness, thatmade her seem not in the least a dependent, and which was, as Mrs. Aliston well knew, most pleasing to the heiress. 

Altogether, they were a pair of very sensible women. Mrs. Aliston atewhen she liked, and slept when she liked; Miss Wardour did what _she_liked, and both were satisfied. 

While Miss Wardour was promenading her garden, and Mrs. Aliston wascomfortably sleeping, two men were approaching each other on the sandyroad that ran from the town past Wardour Place. 

The one coming from townward was our detective tramp, looking all that atramp should be. 

The other, approaching from the opposite direction, was a sleek, respectable looking, middle aged man, who might have been some smallfarmer dressed in his Sunday clothes, which fitted him none too well. 

Almost opposite the gates of Wardour Place they met and passed eachother, the tramp saluting respectfully, the other responding with astolid stare. 

A little further on the tramp turned slowly and looked back. Thefarmer-looking individual had entered the grounds of Wardour Place, andwas hurrying straight on toward the entrance, looking neither to theright nor left. 

[Illustration: "The tramp turned and looked back. "]

"So!" muttered the tramp, with the air of a man who would have beenastonished then, but for the fact that he never allowed anything toastonish him. "So _he_ is mixing himself up in this affair! I wonder inwhat capacity? Can it be that by some means he has been selected to workup this case? Oh! oh! Bless my soul! What a coincidence that would be!"

Evidently he had grasped at a new idea, and one that was somewhatstartling. He quickened his pace until, unconsciously, it became almosta trot. The mask of studied vacancy dropped from his face, leaving italert, keen, analytical. His mind had grasped at a problem, and he wasstudying it with knitted brow and compressed mouth, as he hurried oncountryward, not heeding anything save the thought which possessed him. 

It was Sunday morning, too early for church goers, and too late for cowboys. So he met no one on his hurried march, and when at last he beganto moderate his pace, he was a full mile from Wardour Place. As his walkgrew slower his face relaxed, and gradually resumed its mask of carelessstupidity. 

Finally he paused, looked about him, laughed a short half laugh, andcrossing the road, vaulted a high-wired fence, with the ease of aharlequin, and took his way across a meadow toward the river. 

"Tra-la, tra-la-la-la-la, " chirped he, softly and contentedly. "_What_ apretty kettle of fish. How I should love to sit down right beside it andsee it boil, stir it occasionally; instead, I must go far away, andmeantime, who knows, the kettle may boil over. But I hope not, --I trustnot. I will try and prevent it; and, to do that, I must drop a littleshell before I go. I must bind Miss Wardour over to my aid. I must showher that it is wise to trust me. I must have a confidante here, andthere are only two to choose from. Doctor Heath, 'from nowhere, ' andthis clear-eyed lady. I choose her; for, with all due regard for myfriend, the doctor, and all due faith in the propriety of his motives, Imust know _why_ he throws that bit of circumstantial evidence in my way, before I show him any part of my hand. Why Doctor Heath is here, is noneof my business, strange as his presence and present occupation seem tome. Why he is mixing himself up in the affair of Miss Wardour'sdiamonds, however, _is_ my business, just now. But, first of all, toknow how much or little Jerry Belknap knows of this affair, and of thesepeople, and whether he is at his old crookedness once more. Now, here isthe river; here the footpath. I must see the mistress of Wardour Place, and at once; so, _en avant_. "

And he struck into the river footpath, and strode rapidly along towardWardour Place, whistling softly as he went. Meantime, Constance Wardour, pacing the walks of her garden, with her brows wrinkled into a frown, was interrupted by her housemaid. 

"If you please, miss, there's a man in the front hall, that's wantingto see you, and says I am to tell you it's important that his businessis. "

Constance made a slight gesture of impatience; she had been thinking ofSybil Lamotte, to the exclusion of all other subjects, and this messagebrought her suddenly back to her own affairs. 

"Important!" she muttered to herself. "Then it must be--the other one. Nelly, " raising her voice, "what is this man like?"

"Like, miss?" inquiringly. 

"Yes. How does he look?"

"Oh! Well, it's very ugly he looks, to my notion. "

"Does he look like a gentleman, Nelly?"

"Oh, murther! no. "

"Like a tramp, then?"

"No; his clothes is too new. "

"Well, Nelly, I will go and see him, " said Constance, beginning todespair of finding out whether this visitor were the tramp of the nightprevious, or the new actor expected on the scene. "You know I neverallow you to turn a tramp away hungry, and if one comes who seems worthyof help, I wish you always to let me know it. "

This she said, thinking of the manner in which it was probable thedetective tramp would seek access to her presence. 

"By the way, Nelly, " pausing with one foot on the steps of thedining-room terrace. "You may wake Mrs. Aliston and tell her that if Iwish her to join me in the little parlor I will send you to her, " then_sotto voce_, as she entered the house and went carelessly toward thedrawing-room: "If this visitor proves a bore I will turn him over toAunt Honor; I can't have two days of constant boredom. "

Coming forward from the lower entrance, Constance encountered the gazeof the strange man, whom, arriving at the front door, Nelly had notventured to set down as a tramp, and whose clothes made her doubt thepropriety of showing him the drawing-room. Being of Hibernianextraction, and not to be nonplussed, Nelly had adapted a happy medium, and seated the visitor in the largest hall chair, where he now awaitedthe approach of Constance. 

"I think you wished to see me, " said Constance, in the unaffected kindlytone usual to her when addressing strangers or inferiors, "I am MissWardour. "

The stranger arose, making a stiff salute, and saying in a low, guardedtone:

"Yes, Miss Wardour, I have a message for you;" at the same moment hepresented her a card, and glanced in a suggestive manner toward Nelly, who was traveling up the stairs in a very leisurely manner, _en route_for Mrs. Aliston's rooms. 

Constance glanced at the card which bore the inscription, "JERRY BELKNAP, _Private Detective_. "

"Come this way, " she said, throwing open the drawing-room door andpreceding him into that apartment. 

Jerry Belknap, private detective, followed close behind her, and himselfclosed the door carefully. Constance crossed the room, drew back thecurtains, and pushed open the shutters of the terrace windows, thusletting in a flood of light. Then turning, she seated herself upon afauteuil, and, motioning the detective to a chair opposite, said:

"Now, sir, I am ready to receive your message. "

"It's a verbal one, " returned the detective, in a voice soft and smooth, not at all in keeping with his disguise, "and from Mr. Lamotte. I am theofficer chosen by him to investigate for you, Miss Wardour, and as muchtime has been lost, I only wait your sanction and acceptance to beginthe work. "

The soft voice and polished accent were in very marked contrast to hisdress and facial appearance. His manner of boorish discomfort had beendropped when the door closed upon outside observation. 

Mentally contrasting the ease and suavity of this new comer with thecat-like movements and brusqueness of his predecessor, Constance, whobegan to realize the ludicrousness of the situation, in fact seemed tohave some special private reason for finding it exceedingly absurd, replied that Mr. Lamotte's chosen officer must of course be acceptableto her, and that she only awaited his commands, if she could be of anyservice to him. 

"Then, " said Detective Belknap, "I may as well look over the premises, unless, " turning upon her a searching look, "there are particularsconcerning the robbery which Mr. Lamotte was not in possession of. "

Constance lowered her eyes, in seeming effort to remember if Mr. Lamotteknew absolutely all; she thought of the chloroform, but the bottle hadnot yet been returned to her. What should she do? Before telling thispart of the story she must have the bottle. Suddenly her woman's witcame to her aid. Looking up with sweetest candor into the detective'sface, she said, "I am the only one who possesses any information that was not known toMr. Lamotte. It is a mere trifle, but as it will take some time in thetelling, I will, if you please, order breakfast. You can scarcely havebreakfasted at this hour. I will show you the library now. Will you lookover that and the other rooms, and kindly excuse me for a short time?Then join me at breakfast, and I will give you my version of the story. "

She arose as if considering the matter decided beyond question, andmoved toward the door, and with a bow and a murmur of assent, Mr. JerryBelknap fell into his assumed shamble, and followed her to the library. Leaving him there, Constance went out to order breakfast served in halfan hour, and to send Nelly with the key to her dressing room. 

"Nelly must be taken into my confidence, " mused she, as she went insearch of that damsel. "I can trust Nelly in spite of her Irishries, andif Doctor Heath does not appear soon she must help me out in some way. "

Nelly was not at her post, having been dispatched kitchenward by Mrs. Aliston, and Constance went up to her own rooms, thinking, as she went, how best to defer a further interview with Mr. Belknap. 

"I must take him the key myself, " she muttered, as she moved about thedressing room, and then a sudden thought came, and she moved quickly toan open wardrobe, pulled down the dress she had worn on the previousafternoon, and searched hurriedly in the pockets. 

All at once a look of dismay overspread her features; again and againshe shook out the silken folds, again thrust her hands in the daintypockets, and fluttered her fingers among the intricacies of thetrimming. The thing she searched for was gone. Sybil Lamotte's strangeletter, the letter that was a trust not to be violated, was not to befound. 

Thoroughly distressed now, Constance renewed her search--about theroom--everywhere--in the most impossible places; but no letter. 

Down stairs she went; and hopeless as was the chance of finding itthere, hunted in the drawing room and on the terrace. 

She distinctly remembered placing it in her pocket, after receiving itback from the hands of Doctor Heath; of bestowing it very carefully, too. 

Who had been in the drawing room since Doctor Heath? Mrs. Aliston; thetwo detectives; herself. Who had seen her put the letter in her pocket?Only Doctor Heath. Could it have dropped from her pocket? That seemedimpossible. Could he have removed it? That seemed impossible, too, andvery absurd. But what could she think, else? Then, she remembered whathe had said to the detective the night before, and all the mysterysurrounding his past. Hitherto, she had scoffed at the prying ones, andadvocated his perfect right to his own past and future, too. Now, shefelt her ignorance of aught concerning the life of Doctor CliffordHeath, to be a deep personal injury. Hitherto, she had reasoned that hispast was something very simple, a commonplace of study, perhaps, andself-building; for she, being an admirer of self-made men, had chosen tobelieve him one of them. Now, she bounded straight to the conclusionthat Doctor Heath had a past--to conceal; and then she found herselfgrowing very angry, with him first, and herself afterward. 

Why had he not presented his passports before seeking her favor? How hadhe dared to make himself so much at home in her drawing room, with hisimpertinent _insouciance_ and his Sultan airs? How had he gone about, indifferent, independent, ignoring when he pleased, courting no one'sfavor, and yet, be--nobody knew who. 

And what a fool she had been, trusting him with her personal secrets;putting her private letters into his hands. How he must be laughing ather in his sleeve! Exasperating thought. Worse than all else, to belaughed at. What worse calamity can befall poor, arrogant human nature?

Constance was now thoroughly angry, and, "by the same token, " thoroughlyunreasonable. It is highly objectionable in a heroine; but Constance, aswe have said before, is a very human heroine. And, dear reader, howeversensible you be, if you have ever been in just the state of mind inwhich Constance Wardour found herself that morning, and most of us have, I promise you, you were not one whit more reasonable; not one whit lesscapable of being aggressive, unreasonable, and generally disagreeable. 

And now, the perverse imp who goes about, concocting horrible practicaljokes, and stirring up _contretemps_, seemed to take possession of thefield; for, just at the moment when he should have been at least fivemiles away, Doctor Heath, unannounced, appeared at the drawing-roomdoor, --smiling, too, looking provokingly sure of a welcome, andhandsomer than usual. 

Miss Wardour's self-possession was as instant as her indignation. 

"Good morning, Doctor Heath, " frigidly. "I am sorry you found itnecessary to admit yourself in this manner. I suppose my servants _are_neglectful. "

"Not at all, " replied he, discovering that she was out of humor, but notdivining the cause. "Your housemaid admitted me, and thinking you inyour own room, was about to usher me in here, and go to announce me, when I saved her the trouble, telling her that my time was limited, andadmitting myself; had I known you were here, I should not have intrudedwithout permission;" then perceiving that her face retained itsfrigidity, his voice took on a shade of haughtiness as he laid a packetupon the table, saying: "I have brought back your 'proofs;' Mr. Bathurstwished me to say, if I chanced to see you first, that is, " hesitating. 

"I have not seen Mr. Bathurst. "

"No!" Doctor Heath seemed to be somewhat affected by the chill of theatmosphere. "Then I am to say that he has something for your privateear, and that when he comes, he begs that you will contrive in some wayto see him, whether your other officer is here or no. "

A grave bow from Lapland. Then, "Officer Belknap is here, and in the library. I presume, " consulting herwatch, "he is waiting for me at this moment. "

Doctor Heath had been standing a few feet from her, hat in hand; now, and in spite of this implied dismissal, he coolly deposited his hat uponthe table beside Miss Wardour's package, and advanced nearer to thatyoung lady, speaking calmly, gently even, but without the slightesttouch of entreaty, penitence, or humility of any sort in his manner orvoice. 

"Miss Wardour, pardon me for alluding to it, but I would be blind indeednot to see that something has annoyed you exceedingly. Indeed, I couldalmost fancy that, in some way, I have become the cause of yourdispleasure; if this is so, tell me how I have been so unfortunate as tooffend?"

Now this was a very pacific and proper speech, and uttered in the rightspirit. But had its effect been salutary, then Doctor Heath would standalone, the first, last, and only man who ever yet attempted to arguewith, reason with, or pacify an angry woman without blunderingegregiously in the beginning, and coming out worsted at the end. Thereare a _few_ things in this world that mortal man can't compass, and toattempt to pour oil on the waves of a woman's wrath when they are justat the boiling point, and ready to overflow their confines, is likesitting down on a bunch of fire-crackers to prevent their going off. Letthe water boil over, and there will still be enough left to brew you acup of tea. Let the crackers explode, and you may sit down on them withimpunity. 

Dear brethren, the moral is homely. 

How had he offended? That he should ask the question, was the acme ofhis offense. As if she could tell how he had offended. Was there ever soimpertinent a question and questioner? "How had he been so _unfortunate_as to offend?" Any other man would have said "unhappy, " whether he meantit or not, but this man, oh! he would not even _look_ a culprit. 

She raised her haughty head a trifle higher, as high as it could be; shedrew back as many steps as he had advanced; the room had become arefrigerator. 

"Doctor Heath flatters himself; in what manner _could_ he offend me?"

[Illustration: "Doctor Heath flatters himself. "]

Still he retains his composure, not guessing at the truth. 

"I have never presumed Miss Wardour, therefore can not have flatteredmyself. I _may_ have offended by coming one moment too late with thispacket. Miss Wardour is accustomed to unqualified obedience. If I failin that it is not from lack of inclination, but--because I am justlearning submission. " He uttered the last words in a lower, softertone, and fell back as he uttered them, laying his hand upon his hat. 

Anger, self-shame, and a strange thrilling emotion, she could not, orwould not recognize or define, urged her out of herself, beyond herself, and beyond the bounds of propriety or courtesy. Sweeping toward him withone swift movement, she extended one hand with downward turned palm, ina quick, meaning gesture, and said, "Doctor Heath, I have lost Sybil Lamotte's letter. "

"Lost it! How?"

"That I should be glad to know; since I showed it to you last night andreplaced it in my pocket, I have not seen it, and, Doctor Heath, as I donot wish without your knowledge, to be in possession of any secret ofyours, I may as well tell you now that I overheard your warning to thedetective last night. "

"My warning!" he repeated, parrot-like. 

"Your reminder that you must be to him, _Doctor Heath from nowhere_!"

Doctor Heath from nowhere, gazed at her for a moment as if petrified, his mind seeming reluctant or unable to grasp at once her full meaning;then he came close to her, straight and tall, and paler than her ownpale robe; the blood of all the Howards flashing from his eye, andspeaking in his bearing. Thus, for a moment, they faced each other, pale, passionate, mute; then a voice, soft and suave, broke the spell. 

"I trust you will pardon me. "

They turned swiftly, neither had faced the door; both had been toopreoccupied to observe or hear. How long he had been a listener he alonecould tell; but there stood Mr. Jerry Belknap, private detective, onehand resting on the handle of the closed door, the other holding an opennote book. 

Doctor Heath vouchsafed him one dark glance, then bending above theuplifted hand of Constance Wardour, he looked straight down into hereyes, and said in a low, tense voice, "Miss Wardour, your words have been not an accusation, but an insult; assuch, I can only accept them--in silence; good morning. "

Then he turned, waved the private detective haughtily from before thedoor, and strode out, his heels ringing firm upon the hall marble as hewent. 

"I fear I intruded, " said Mr. Belknap, innocently. "I have just finishedmaking some notes in the library, and am ready to proceed to the upperfloor. "

"Breakfast. " It was Nelly who appeared with this announcement, which waswelcome, at least to Mr. Belknap, and pale, silent, subdued, Constancemotioned him to precede her to the dining room. 

"I'm sure to be in a situation, " mused the girl with a rueful grimace. "If it's only a _tęte-á-tęte_ breakfast with a detective. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

ONE DETECTIVE TOO MANY. 

"Aunt Honor, " said Miss Wardour, sweeping unceremoniously into heraunt's dressing room, "you really must come to my relief. "

Mrs. Aliston seated in a big dressing chair, with a tempting breakfasttray drawn close beside her, looked up serene and comfortable, and said, after setting down her porcelain chocolate cup with great care. 

"Yes!" with the rising inflection. 

"I'm exhausted, bothered, bored, " continued the young lady, flingingherself down upon the nearest ottoman. "I wish my old diamonds had neverhad an existence. I wish Grandmama Wardour had had better sense. "

"Have a cup of chocolate, " suggested Mrs. Aliston. 

"I won't, " snapped Constance, belligerently. "I have breakfasted if youplease; auntie, " lowering her voice to a tone of mock mystery, "we havegot another detective in the house. "

"So Nelly tells me, " reaching out for another roll. 

"And, he has breakfasted with me. "

Mrs. Aliston laid down the roll, turned for a moment to gaze at herniece; and, reading in that fair upturned face, the fact that its ownerwas in a state of mutiny against the proprieties and all things elsethat might come in opposition to her will, she took up her roll andbuttered it carefully as she said:

"Well! that's quite like you. What sort of a man is he?"

"Splendid, " with a shrug of the shoulders, "smooth as oil, polished asivory; a Chesterfield in ill fitting clothes. "

"And, a detective?"

"Well, why not? Somehow he has picked up all the arts and graces of agentleman. "

"Really! Not much like the other one then. "

"Not in the least. The other is eccentric, explosive, amusing. This oneis like a lawyer; very non-committal, not at all inclined to tell all heknows. "

"Oh! have you told him about the chloroform?"

"Yes; he has the bottle. "

"Well, what did _he_ say?"

"Nothing. "

"Nothing!"

"Not a word. "

"Goodness gracious! and you breakfasted with him?"

"Yes; and he has spent half an hour or more in the drawing room. I havetold him all I had to tell, and he is now prowling about my dressingroom. "

"But what does he think about this affair?"

"I don't know;" indifferently. 

"Why, it didn't take you all breakfast time to tell _your_ story?"

"Oh, no; I told my story and Mr. Belknap listened very attentively; madesome entries in his note book, remarked that he would have a reportready for me in the course of the day, and then turned his back upon thesubject. "

"Mercy!"

"He discussed the new opera, asked me if I had seen Neilson in TwelfthNight, gave a brilliant description of a young French drama by a youngFrench author, gave me his opinion of Dickens, and looked his opinion ofmyself. "

"What a remarkable person. "

"Exceedingly so. His remarks have quite exhausted me. "

"Now, Con. ;" reproachfully. 

"Now, auntie, don't plead, my heart is adamant. If you don't go andinterview that man for the remainder of his stay I shall order Williamto throw him out of my dressing-room window; not that I have a rootedantipathy for him, he is certainly a clever man, and no doubt a goodofficer. But I am worn out, unfit for duty, and--I have another matterto attend to. "

"Oh!" ejaculates Mrs. Aliston arising, "then, my child, I am ready, oralmost ready, to go and inspect your new detective. "

Accordingly Mrs. Aliston goes to her mirror, touches up herdressing-cap, gives a pat here, a shake there, and then ruffling herplumage like some huge old bird, follows her niece. 

Across the hall they find the detective inspecting the little safe, andhurriedly introducing Mrs. Aliston, and making her own excuses, Constance hastens away and down stairs. 

Down the stairs and out of the house, first because she felt oppressedand needed the soothing effects of fresh air and exercise, and, second, because she expected the tramp detective to be somewhere in thevicinity, and, for some reason, she wanted to see him. In spite of thefact that she had just declared herself bored, and desperate, andanxious to be alone; in spite of the fact that she had fled fromdetective number two, she wanted to see number one for a woman's reason. Having quarrelled desperately with Clifford Heath, she was immediatelypossessed by an insane desire to hear some one speak of him, and speakwell of him. This man had treated Doctor Heath from the first with theutmost respect. He was undoubtedly pleased at their chance meeting;after all might not this secret which lay between the two be a perfectlyhonorable one?

In fact, Miss Wardour wanted to see Detective Bathurst, not as DetectiveBathurst, but as the man who knew Doctor Clifford Heath better than sheherself knew him. Of her diamonds, she never thought at all. 

She felt depressed, dissatisfied, yet not quite prepared to blameherself in any way. She was possessed by more uncomfortable feelingsthan she could have analyzed or described, yet was too consistent awoman to be so soon ready to admit, even to herself, that she hadwronged Doctor Heath. Indeed, she was more angry than ever with thatunfortunate man. Had he not capped the climax of his iniquities byflying off at a tangent, and leaving her in a most uncomfortableposition?

The grounds about Wardour Place were large, well shaded, and laid outwith a network of walks. With a view to the avoiding of those pathsoverlooked by the windows of her dressing room, or other rooms where heraunt and the detective were likely to be, Constance kept to the northand east walks, thus coming near the river, which ran north and south, and toward which the eastern, or near, portion of the grounds slopeddown. 

Walking thus, and gazing riverward, Constance saw a form approaching, which she soon recognized as that of the detective tramp. 

Glancing quickly about to see if any of the servants were in thegrounds, and assuring herself that the way was clear, she went forwardto where he could see her, before approaching too near. 

Gazing fixedly at him, a slight movement of his hand told her that hehad seen, and was alert; and then she made a gesture northward, and, turning that way herself, disappeared from his sight among theshrubbery. 

On the north, the grounds were bounded by the orchard wall, over whichdrooped the branches of huge old apple trees, and down close to theeastern boundary of this same orchard, a small iron gate opened into it. Toward this gate Constance walked, avoiding any appearance of unseemlyhaste, and toward the eastern wall, hard by, went the tramp detective, looking innocent of any thought or purpose, save to intercept the lady, and beg for a dinner, a dollar, or a dime. 

Reaching the gate, Constance passed through it into the orchard, and, almost at the same moment, the tramp bounded over the wall, and stoodbowing beside her. 

"Come into the grounds, " said Constance, waiving all ceremony. "If weare seen talking there, it will look less suspicious. My servants arequite accustomed to see me interviewing tramps. "

She led the way back into the grounds, closed the wicket, and walkedalong the orchard wall to a rustic bench close under the bending boughsof a great tree. Here she seated herself, and the tramp, leaning againsta tree a few paces from her, turned upon her a look of propersupplication, and said:

"Now I think we are ready for observers. "

"Quite. None of my servants saw you last night, and they are not likelyto come here in any case. We shall hardly be disturbed. "

"You think so? May I ask how long you have been absent from the house?"

"About fifteen minutes, I should think. "

"Well, in fifteen minutes more Mr. Belknap will be out looking at thegrounds, and for you. "

Constance uttered a low exclamation of surprise. 

"Ah!" said she, "you know that already. Pray tell me how? you are morepuzzling than a Chinese juggler. "

"No jugglery about this, however, " he replied, looking somewhat amused. "I met Mr. Belknap, face to face at your very gate; I have seen him wearthat farmer disguise before, hence I recognized him. "

"And he?"

"Did _not_ recognize me. "

"Yet you know each other. "

"Slightly, yes;" with a droll look in his eyes, of which Constance tooknote. 

"Now tell me, Mr. Bathurst, is Mr. Belknap a good detective?"

"Mr. Belknap is a smart man, Miss Wardour; he understands his businessthoroughly. "

"He equivocates, " thought Constance; aloud she said, "And I need not fear to trust my business in his hands?"

"You need not fear, " he replied, with odd emphasis. "And now, " hecontinued, "time presses; you received your package, Miss Wardour?"

Constance felt uneasy, this man seemed to find out everything; did heknow of what she had accused Doctor Heath?

"I received it an hour ago, " she replied. 

"Miss Wardour, " asked he, fixing his eyes upon her face, "have you anysuspicion as to who these robbers were?"

For a moment Constance seemed half paralyzed with fright; then sheanswered firmly, "No, sir; not the shadow of a suspicion; but--you have. "

"If I have, it is not more than a shadow--at present. Now, may I ask yousome questions, not just to the point but which, for my own reasons, Iwish answered. "

She nodded assent. 

"Can you tell me how many medical men you have in W----?"

Constance reflected; finally she said, "I think there are seven, in all. "

"Ah! all in practice?"

"Not all; two are retired, one is an invalid, doing but little. "

"Thank you; and how many of them have assistants or students?"

"Only two, to my knowledge, Doctor Benoit and--Doctor Heath. "

"And who are these young men--I suppose they _are_ young men? Can yougive me any information concerning them?"

"The young man with Doctor Benoit is a stranger to me, he comes, Ibelieve, from one of the neighboring towns; the one with Doctor Heath, "here, in spite of herself, Constance colored slightly, "is the son ofone of our wealthiest citizens. He had, I believe, been reading a littlein the city during the winter before Doctor Heath established himselfhere; since when he has remained in W----, and read in Doctor Heath'soffice, when it has suited him to do so; he is like many young men ofgreat expectations. "

"And his name?"

"His name, " hesitating a little, "is Francis Lamotte. "

"Thank you; and now, Miss Wardour, I want to ask at least three favorsof you, in return for which you may command me to any extent. "

"Ask them, " replied Constance, feeling inwardly that she was outgrowingsurprise. 

"First, will you promise me--I know that you keep your promises--not torepeat one word of this conversation to Doctor Heath. "

"Doctor Heath is not my father confessor, " she said coldly; and thenremembering the sort of man she was addressing, she added as best shecould. "Although from what you saw last night, you might almost havefancied him such. I promise in any case to keep secret this interview. "

"Will you promise, above all, to keep it from Mr. Belknap; to keep_everything_ concerning me from his knowledge?"

Constance laughed. 

"So far as I can, " she replied. "Mr. Belknap is a detective; let himfind out things as you seem to do. "

"I don't find out everything, more's the pity, " he replied; thenhesitating slightly over the question. "May I rely on your aunt?"

"I promise for my aunt, " replied Constance, laughing again; "she is veryloyal. "

"Thank you. Now there is one thing more I very much wish, for reasonswhich no doubt you will know in good time, to see or hear the report ofMr. Jerry Belknap, private detective. This I know, is asking much, butyou will have no cause to regret it if you enable me to obtain thisknowledge. "

Constance looked perplexed, and hesitated in her answer. 

"You distrust Mr. Belknap, " she said finally. "I thought--"

He throws up his hand somewhat impatiently. 

"You jump at conclusions, " he interrupted; "a detective's motives mustbe taken for granted. It is not distrust that causes me to ask thisfavor; I could not tell you my reason without unraveling a long web, andit is not time to begin the process; I am still in the realm ofconjecture. So you won't help me to the result of Mr. Belknap'sinvestigation, Miss Wardour? I am sorry; it would save time for me, forI fully intend to find it out in some way. "

Constance smiled in spite of herself; she admired this man's cool way ofmastering the situation; she felt that it would be policy to let himhave his way, since he would take it whether she would or no. But theimp of caprice had not quite deserted her, and now he goaded her on toher own downfall. Looking up suddenly, she asked:

"Mr. Bathurst, why did you ask me if I suspected who stole my diamonds?"

"I didn't, " smiling oddly. 

Constance stared. 

"I asked if you guessed who the robbers were. "

"But--, " began she; but the detective drawing a step nearer, andspeaking in a guarded tone, interrupts her. 

"I am satisfied that you were _robbed_ on Saturday night, Miss Wardour;I am sure that you have no clue to the burglars; no suspicion as totheir identity; but, I am not so sure that you do not know _preciselywhere to look for the Wardour diamonds at this moment_?"

Constance flushed, and then turned pale. She had found her match; shewas cornered, mastered, but she must give one last scratch. 

"Having divined so much, " she said bitterly. "I suppose you intend tofind them too?"

He drew himself up haughtily. "I am a detective, madam, not a spy; solong as your diamonds give _you_ no uneasiness they have no interest forme. When you need my services they are yours. I do not investigatemysteries from mere curiosity. "

Constance felt a twinge of self-reproach. "I am behaving like a fool, "she thought, in severe condemnation. "I am losing my own identity; thisman is a friend to rely on, an enemy to fear. He will not bow to mywhims and caprices. What has come over me? Let me try and redeemmyself. "

She had been musing with downcast eyes; now she looked up, straight intoher companion's face. It had undergone a sudden change; the eyes, amoment since so full of fire and subtlety, were dull and expressionless. The face was vague to apathy, the mouth looked the incarnation ofmeekness or imbecility; even his hands had taken on a helplessfeebleness in the clutch in which he held his worn-out hat. Before shecould withdraw her gaze or open her lips in speech, he said in a lowguarded tone:

"Some one is approaching. Look behind me, Miss Wardour, and carefully, not to excite suspicion. "

She turned her gaze cautiously in the direction indicated, and sawcoming slowly toward them, Mr. Belknap and Mrs. Aliston. 

"It is Mr. Belknap, " she said, nodding easily at the new comers as shespoke, "and my aunt. Have no fears, sir tramp, everything shall be asyou wish. I will engage you, I think. "

Constance was herself again. 

"Aunt Honor, " she said, as the two came within hearing distance, "youfind me at my old tricks. "

"Old tricks indeed!" replied her aunt, with more subtlety of meaningthan she often employed. 

Constance arose and swept past the supposed tramp, without bestowing aglance upon him. 

"What would you do aunt?" she said, with an air of honest anxiety thatwould have done credit to an actress, "here is this man again. You knowI promised to try and help him when he was here before. Simon needs anassistant, he tells me; would you try him as under gardener?"

[Illustration: "Here is this man again. "]

Thoroughly drilled in the art of aiding and abetting her niece, Mrs. Aliston proved equal to the emergency. 

"It couldn't do any harm, " she said surveying the gentleman trampsomewhat superciliously. "He looks quite respectable, for that sort of aperson. "

Constance stifled an inclination to laugh as she said, briskly:

"Then we will try him, and I'll just take him to the kitchen, and tellcook what to do with him until Simon comes. "

"Now just let me do that Con. , " remonstrated Mrs. Aliston, "Mr. Belknapwishes to talk with you about the servants; remain here, and I willattend to this person. "

"Very well, " responded Constance, indifferently, at the same timerealizing the expediency of allowing the detective an instantopportunity for dropping a word of warning in the ear of her relative. "Tell the cook to give him something to eat, and now Mr. Belknap, youand I may walk on. "

"Just follow me, my man, " called Mrs. Aliston, in a tone of loftiestpatronage, and the newly appointed under gardener, beaming withgratitude, passed by Miss Wardour and Mr. Belknap, and followed theportly figure kitchenward with eager alacrity. 

Meantime, Constance, eager to engross Mr. Belknap's attention, turnedtoward him a smiling face, and said:

"Now, Mr. Belknap, I am at your disposal for a short time; fate seemsagainst my obtaining the rest I came out here to seek, but _your_business is in my interest, and I am not ungrateful; you wished to saysomething about my servants. "

"I wish to question your servants separately, Miss Wardour. "

Constance opened her eyes in quick surprise, then she answered quietly:

"To question my servants! Oh, certainly, Mr. Belknap; when, and where?"

"This evening would suit me; I am going to look about the surroundingcountry during the day. "

"This evening then, after dinner; will that suit you?"

"Admirably, say at half past eight;" and having completed hisarrangements in this business-like manner, Mr. Belknap asked permissionto pass through the orchard, received it, and, bowing gravely, wentthrough the wicket, and walked swiftly between the rows of apple treesstraight northward. 

At six o'clock that evening, Miss Wardour sent for the gardener. 

"Simon, " she said sweetly to the cross looking old man, "I engaged a newman to-day, perhaps you have seen him. I don't expect he can be veryuseful to you just at first, and I want you to give him very lighttasks, and treat him kindly; he is a very unfortunate man. If we findthat we can't make him useful after a few days' trial, we will pay him amonth's wages and let him go. That will help him a little. "

Then she sent for the new man. 

"I thought you might wish to hear the latest report from Mr. Belknap, "she said graciously. "If I am to be your ally, I intend to keep nothingback; but I can't help fearing that he may suspect your identity. "

"You need not, " he replied with confident ease. "He has every reasonfor supposing me in California at this moment; besides, he does not knowme well enough to be able to recognize me under a good disguise; ouracquaintance, " he added dryly, "has been somewhat one sided, with theadvantage so far on my side. When I told you that I knew Mr. Belknapwell, I did not intend to imply that he knew me equally well. "

"Then I will trouble myself no more about the matter, " said she lightly. "Mr. Belknap wishes to examine the servants, that is what I wished totell you. "

"Very proper in Mr. Belknap. "

"Oh! is it? I thought it very absurd. My servants are honesty itself. "

"So much the better; Mr. Belknap knows how to go to work, Miss Wardour, pray feel no prejudice. "

"Oh, not at all, " ironically. "Now about the report. Be within easy callto-morrow morning, please, I think we will have it then. "

"Thanks. "

"I suppose it will be best to have you present, that is, within hearing. I will arrange that the interview will take place in the dining room, and can easily get you into the butler's room adjoining, where Williamsleeps; this room was arranged with a view to the overlooking of thedining room, and plate closet, as you discovered for yourself; fromthere you can both hear and see. "

"So much the better. " Then admiringly, he added, "Miss Wardour you are asplendid ally; you have thought of everything. "

She laughed; then answered with artful frankness: "I am trying to getback into my normal condition. I have been out of balance somehow, eversince this business commenced; have been as testy as an old woman ofeighty. It is time I began to redeem myself. But I must not detain you. I see you begin to look uneasy. Until to-morrow, I commend you to thetender mercies of Simon and the cook. "

"I wonder how that man looks, devoid of all disguise, " mused she, afterhe had withdrawn. "I don't believe he is tow-haired and freckled bynature. I wonder what has become of poor Sybil's letter; and if I hadbetter ask his aid in finding it. But he is going away so soon. Now thatI reflect, soberly, what motive could Doctor Heath possibly have fortaking that letter? I think I must have been mad, or in hysteria. Theman may be an imposter, a man of mystery, and all that; but why must Iaccuse him of taking a letter that could be of no possible use to him. Ihad worked myself into a rage. Well, it's done; I can't recall it. Doctor Heath will think me a vixen, and why not? What is Doctor Heath'sopinion to me?"

What, indeed!

CHAPTER IX. 

DEDUCTIONS OF DETECTIVE NUMBER TWO. 

The fates seemed propitious on Monday morning. The day dawned fair andbalmy, and Constance arose, feeling refreshed and like her own sereneself once more. 

The events of the two previous days no longer seemed to her imaginationa chaotic disturbing mass of tribulations; they had arranged themselvesin their proper order, been reviewed sensibly, and assigned theirrightful places, as things to be overcome, or overlooked, as the casemight be. 

Mrs. Aliston, too, at once discreet and talkative, was in fine spirits, and the two, having ascertained the precise time when Private DetectiveBelknap might be expected to make his report, had breakfastedcomfortably, stowed away Mr. Bathurst, according to previousarrangement, and were now calmly awaiting the coming man. 

They had not long to wait. Mr. Belknap, ushered in by Nelly, found theladies seated near the breakfast tray, as if just about completing arepast, which had in reality been finished some time before. 

"Good-morning, ladies, " said he, laying down his hat, and at oncedrawing a chair to the table, with the air of a man whose time ismoney. "Having completed my investigations here, --that is, in thisimmediate neighborhood, --I am prepared with my written report, which Isubmit to you, Miss Wardour. Will you please read it, and then give mefurther instructions?" and he proffered her a neatly-folded paper, ofgoodly proportions. 

Constance glanced at it dubiously, but did not take it from his hand. 

"Please read it, Mr. Belknap, " she said, appealingly. "I am sure I shallcomprehend it better, and my aunt shares my anxiety to hear andunderstand its contents. "

"As you please, " assented he, opening the manuscript. "I have made it asbrief as possible; of course, it was necessary to be statistical. "

The report began with the usual form, day and date, circumstances underwhich his services were retained, etc. , a statement of the case as itwas made to him, then came the following:

"Arrived in W---- early on Sunday morning, walking from the firststation northward. Found Wardour Place easily from Mr. Lamotte'sdescription. Gained admittance, and was at once permitted to inspect theroom where the robbers found an entrance; found that it had beenpreviously examined, and could not feel quite sure that some clue hadnot been effaced or something disturbed that might have evolved a clue. Miss Wardour assures me that nothing of value was taken from this room, and I am inclined to think that the robbers had hoped to findthemselves in the dining room, and gain access to the plate closet. 

"Finding themselves instead in the library, a room where, there being noman of the house, it could hardly be supposed valuables were kept, ormoney or papers of worth locked away; they, after a vigorous search, opened the door of the hall; here they found themselves at once at thefoot of the stairs and, naturally, one ascends to explore. The firstdoor that he tries is the door of Miss Wardour's dressing room; and, having examined that door, I am compelled to think that Miss Wardour, for once, forgot to lock it. Had it been locked the explorer wouldnaturally have passed on, trying the other doors and some of these otherdoors were certainly not locked. 

"The burglary was effected with the utmost quiet, and there are noindications that any thing was disturbed on the second floor, save inMiss Wardour's rooms, therefore (I cite this presumptive evidence), MissWardour's door was _not_ locked as she supposed it to be; finding thisto be the case the man signaled to his confederate to come up, and then, having a dark lantern, they entered, and surveyed the room. The rest isevident; one of them, skilled in his profession, and in the exigenciesthat must arise in the practice of it, administered to Miss Wardour thechloroform. Now the operation must have been a delicate one, and thelength of time necessary to open the safe and get possession of itscontents covered some minutes; having heard Miss Wardour's statement inregard to the effect a powerful dose of chloroform has on her physicalsystem, I incline to the opinion that the drug was administered to herin minute doses, not once, but two or three times at least; thisaccounts for the bottle and the linen being left in the sleeping room. Probably, just at the moment when they had stowed away the last of theirbooty, some slight sound alarmed them and they made a hurried escape, forgetting the bottle entirely. 

"The robbers left behind them no clues beyond the established fact thatthey were professional burglars. This is proved by the manner in whichthey did their work, and by the tools they must have carried. 

"I see plainly here the work of city-bred burglars, and the remainder ofthe work of finding them is to be done in the city, where they willeventually try to dispose of some of the jewels, no doubt. 

"In order to satisfy myself that there has been no accomplice here, whomay have been acquainted with the premises, I have searched mostthoroughly. I have examined the servants closely, and I find nothing toindicate that there has been any one concerned in this affair, who is aninhabitant, or habitual visitor in the town. 

"In a field to the northward, I have found what may be, I think is, atrace of the robbers. Two or more men have leaped a ditch, runningacross the field from east to west; and the footmarks in the firstinstance are coming southward, or toward Wardour. These footmarks arewithin a few rods of the road, as if the parties had suddenly abandonedthat highway, fearing observation from travelers. My supposition is, that they approached Wardour Place, keeping to the field, after havingleaped the ditch, until the northern boundary of the orchard wasreached; here they must have kept close under the wall, until they cameto the roadside fence, which they climbed. The fence bears freshlyscraped marks, as if made by boot heels in climbing over, and some tallweeds, growing by the roadside, give evidence of having been hastily andheavily trampled. The thieves probably returned after the robbery, inthe same way; for, one crossing of the fence would not have left so manymarks visible, either on the boards or among the weeds; and in thedarkness they fell a little eastward of their first course; for I find, at the ditch again, but nearer to the river, the same footprints wherethe ditch has been leaped, this time the footsteps going northward. 

"It is probable that the thieves tramped northward under cover of thedarkness, until they struck the railroad at some previously selectedpoint, and from thence took the first train cityward. "

The reading came thus abruptly to an end, and the reader looked up tonote the effect upon his hearers. They both sat in most attentiveattitudes, and each face wore an expression of puzzled astonishment. Notbeing able to reach their "inner consciousness, " and read the mentalcomparisons there being drawn between this report and the verydissimilar summing up of the tramp detective, Mr. Belknap drew hisinferences, as do we all, poor mortals that we are, seeing only theoutside of the cup and platter. He saw the surprise, the puzzled look, that might denote a partial inability to grasp his thoughts and theoriesat once, and a feeling of satisfaction took possession of the breast ofthe astute detective. 

Pausing for a comment, and receiving none, he said, with dignifiedgravity:

"I trust that I have made my report sufficiently plain to you, ladies, and that you find no flaw in it. "

Constance, who with her keen sense of the ridiculous, had been fancyingthe effect this report would have upon the detective in ambush, andstruggling hard with her own risibilities, mastered herself finally, andpreserving her gravity of expression, replied with a wicked undercurrentof meaning:

"It is quite plain to me, sir; I am a poor critic of such matters, but Ishould think it a masterpiece for directness and comprehensiveness. "

"And you see nothing in the theory to object to? You think that workingfrom these findings, there will be a hope of success?" he queried. 

Constance hesitated once more to consider her answer and collect herselfgenerally. 

"Why, you know, Mr. Belknap, " she said at last, and with charmingingenuousness, "this is not a matter for my judgment; I rely upon youentirely; pray do not hesitate, but continue your investigations inwhatever direction your judgment leads you. I wish Mr. Lamotte was hereto confer with you; but, if he were here, " and her face became sad asshe thought of his home coming; "he would hardly be in spirits for sucha consultation. Mr. Lamotte has bad news awaiting him. We must venturethis matter without his aid for the present. "

The detective's face showed grave concern. 

"Bad news for Mr. Lamotte, " he murmurs; "I deeply deplore that. He seemssuch a genial, kindly gentleman, so much above the average business man. It is not too serious, I hope. "

"It is something you would have heard from the first gossip, if you hadmingled with the town people at all, " replied Constance sadly. "I may aswell tell you what every one knows. Mr. Lamotte's only daughter haseloped during his absence, with a very worthless man. "

"His only daughter!" repeated the detective in a hushed sympatheticvoice; "what a blow! what a bitter blow to a father's heart. Ah, madam, "turning to Mrs. Aliston, "these things are common, especially so to menin my profession, but we can never adjust ourselves to them for allthat; each one comes to some one with the shock of a never beforeexperienced horror. Death is common, the commonest thing of all, but, itis the 'king of terrors' still. "

His voice, low, splendidly modulated, sadly cadenced, seemed thrillingwith sympathy, and he sighed as he lowered his eyes to the floor, andrelapsed into meditation, seemingly forgetful of the business in hand. 

Suddenly he started, seeming to recover himself with an effort. 

"Pardon my abstraction, " he said, a shade of pensiveness still lingeringin his voice. "In contemplating another's sorrow, I am forgetting yourbusiness. I can only hope that this matter is not so bad as it might be, as such things sometimes are. "

"It's as bad as it can be, " responded Constance, gloomily. "It won'tbear discussion; I mentioned it to you, Mr. Belknap, in order to showyou how entirely absorbed Mr. Lamotte will of necessity be in his ownaffairs when he reaches home, and that we will be obliged to move inthis matter without him. "

"Perhaps there is some one else you may desire to consult, in Mr. Lamotte's absence?" hazarded the private detective. 

"No, " replied Constance; "my lawyer is out of town, and there is no oneelse upon whom I can rely. You must act alone, Mr. Belknap. "

"Authorized by you I shall not hesitate to do so, " he replied, bowingcourteously. "The case looks very clear to me. It will be a matter oftime of course, these old birds are sly; but eventually they will try tomarket their wares, and then we shall have them. You can give me anaccurate description of all the stolen jewels, Miss Wardour?"

"Oh, certainly. "

"Then the sooner that is done the better. "

At this moment a soft rap sounded on the door. Constance crossed theroom and admitted Nelly, who said in a low tone:

"Mr. Francis Lamotte wishes to see you, Miss. I told him you wereparticular engaged, just as you told me; but he said to tell you he hadjust come from his search, and would only detain you for a moment. "

Constance paled slightly, and after a moment's thought, said:

"Wait a moment, Nelly. " Then she went back and addressed the detectiveand her aunt. 

"It is Francis Lamotte, " she said, adding, by way of explanation, to thedetective, "the eldest son of Mr. Lamotte, and brother of the young ladywho has brought trouble to herself and family. He, Francis, went onSaturday, on a self-imposed search through the surrounding country, inthe hopes of finding some trace of these robbers. If he is but nowreturned he cannot yet have heard of his sister's flight. We cannot lethim go away in ignorance, and yet, " turning a look of swift appeal uponher aunt, "Aunt Honor, will _you_ lay aside old prejudices and tell himof this sad misfortune?"

Mrs. Aliston looked doubtful for a moment, then a look of satisfiedcommiseration came into her face as she thought:

"She can't be very much infatuated with him or she would herselfundertake this delicate task, and I can afford to pity the poor fellow, since she does not pity him overmuch, " hence the strange mingling ofpleasure and pity in her face as she said aloud:

"Certainly I will break the news to him, my dear, and as gently as is inmy power. "

Constance was turning to give her answer to Nelly when the voice of thedetective interposed. 

"Pardon me, " he said, "you tell me this young man has been scouring thecountry in search of information. Would it not be well to hear whatreport he brings? To allow me to see him here in your presence, and thenlet Mrs. Aliston tell him her story. Ill news you know, " smilingslightly, "come soon enough, at latest. "

"Your suggestion is good, " replied Constance, whose face continued tolook anxious and troubled. "We will receive him here, then, and afterhearing his story, you and I can withdraw. "

In the hurry and embarrassment of the moment, and the situation, Constance had entirely forgotten the proximity of the concealeddetective, as also had Mrs. Aliston; and that invisible gentleman beganto scent the prospect of a long imprisonment. 

Obedient to a nod from Constance, Nelly vanished, and soon re-appeared, ushering in Francis Lamotte, looking somewhat jaded and travel-worn, butquite confident and smiling. 

In a few words, Constance made him acquainted with the detective, andgave him an outline of the doings at Wardour, including Mr. Belknap'sdiscoveries, since he was last there; and the subdued kindness of hermanner, caused him to wonder not a little and rejoice greatly, withinhimself. 

"And so you have been bringing things down to a fine point, " saidFrancis, after the greetings were over, and he had listened toConstance's explanation of the present state of affairs. 

"It appears then that I come just in time; and perhaps you sir, " bowingto Mr. Belknap, "may conclude that my amateur work has not been quitethrown away, or misapplied. "

"Pray give me details, " said the detective, consulting his watch, whichwas a huge silver affair, quite in keeping with the disguise he stillwore. "I must economize my time, as much as may be, and shall be glad tohear all you have to tell--at once. Miss Wardour instructs me to act inthis matter, according to my best judgment, and that tells me to shortenmy stay here, and commence a search in the city. "

"All I know is soon told, " said young Lamotte, with a light laugh. "Irode a great many miles, and asked a great many useless questions. Yesterday, however, I learned that two men had boarded a freight trainbound cityward, at daybreak, Sunday morning, at Blair, a little wateringstation, some fifteen miles from here. I could not get a very accuratedescription of them. They were below the medium size, I should judge, wearing loose-fitting dark gray garments, and soft hats, pulled welldown over their faces. The man at the tank tells me, he noticeddistinctly that one of them wore very large and heavy boots, and thatthey were daubed here and there with red clay. Acting upon this hint, Irode some four miles south-east from Blair, knowing that there is apiece of marsh field, which the highway crosses, that has a reddish, clayey soil. Here, after asking a good many wrong persons, I found atlast the right one, in the person of a farmer who, hearing some unusualnoise among his cattle, arose before daybreak, and, going toward hisbarn, noticed two shadowy forms crossing the field just beyond. Theywere coming from the south, he said, and he watched them until theyclimbed the fence and struck into the road leading toward Blair. It wastoo dark for him to see them distinctly, but as they were then crossinga red loam field, we are safe to conclude that they were the two who, alittle later, took to the freight cars at the water station. "

Mr. Belknap had been for some moments writing rapidly in a smallmemorandum book, and as Francis ceased speaking, Constance, after amoment's silence, said, more to relieve the stillness than with a desirefor any further intelligence:

"And is that all, Frank?"

"That is enough, " interposed the detective, before the young man couldreply. "Mr. Lamotte, let me congratulate you; you have done well. Thisconfirms my theory, and gives me something to start from when I reachthe city. I shall go now with a light heart, and a more than moderatehope of success. "

"Then your business here is about accomplished?" asked Francis. 

"It is accomplished, thanks to you. I would like, " glancing as he spoke, into his note book, "to talk this matter over with you further. It ispossible I might see you again before leaving for the city. At present, "he broke off abruptly, and glanced at Constance. 

"I understand, " laughed she nervously; "at present you require myassistance about that list of jewels. Frank, you will remain here withAunt Honor for a short time; she has, I think, something to say to you. We will go to the library, Mr. Belknap, " and she turned toward the door. 

"Don't hurry matters so, please, " expostulated Francis. "Let me say alittle word to Mr. Belknap before you carry him off. His business herebeing so nearly done, the necessity for extra caution ceases, does itnot? At least, it would not injure the cause if I carry him over toMapleton to luncheon; will it, think you? You won't leave for the citybefore night, Mr. Belknap, I hope?"

"You are very good, " said the detective, with some hesitation. "But, ifyou please, we will renew this subject a little later; now, just excuseme, " and before the bewildered young man could raise his voice tointercept them, Constance and Mr. Belknap had passed from the room, andhe found himself alone with Mrs. Aliston. Turning toward that lady, hewas surprised at the look of intent pity she was bending on him, and, remembering the words of Constance, he came close beside her, saying:

"You had something to say to me, madam?"

"Yes Frank, " he almost started upon hearing his name falling so gentlyfrom her lips. She was not used to familiarity in addressing him. "Prepare yourself to receive a shock, a terrible shock. " A look ofuneasiness, but not of alarm, came over his countenance. 

"What is it?" he asked hastily. "Has Evan--done something worse thanusual?"

"Not to my knowledge. It is not Evan. "

"Not Evan, what then; tell me Mrs. Aliston, " his face becoming paler andpaler. 

"Frank, your sister has eloped!"

He fell into the nearest chair, white and limp. 

"Go on, " he whispered hoarsely, lifting a haggard face towards her;"tell me--the worst, Mrs. Aliston. "

"She has eloped with John Burrill, " went on Mrs. Aliston, a shade ofcoldness in her voice. "They ran away on Saturday afternoon. "

His head dropped forward and fell upon the table before him. Thus for amoment he remained motionless, then his voice broke the stillness, sounding faint and hollow. 

"Is that--all--you can tell me?"

"All! Yes!" exclaimed Mrs. Aliston in a burst of nervousness. "I wish Ihad not told you so much. Frank don't take it so hard. "

He lifted his head, showing her a ghastly face and pale trembling lips. 

"Did Constance see Sybil? Does she know--" he broke off abruptly andhalf rising from his chair, stretched out to her an imploring hand. 

"Mrs. Aliston, " he said hoarsely. "I must see Constance. I _must_. ForGod's sake send her to me, just for one moment. "

"But--" began Mrs. Aliston. 

"I tell you I _must_ see her, " he cried, with sudden fierceness. "Ishall go to her if there is no other way. "

Great drops of sweat stood out on his forehead; once more he looked ashe had two days before, when he stood alone under the trees of WardourPlace, after his parting with Constance. 

Seeing that look upon his face, Mrs. Aliston went slowly towards thedoor. 

"I will send Constance to you, " she said gently and went out, closingthe door softly. 

When he was alone the look upon Francis Lamotte's face became fierce andset. Springing to his feet he paced the floor like a mad man. 

"That letter, " he hissed, "that accursed letter, what has it told? Imust know! I must know the worst! blind fool that I was to let my ownhand bring this about. Oh! this is horrible! Am I lost or--"

Suddenly he seemed to recollect himself and dropping into a chair heburied his passion-distorted face in his arms and so awaited the comingof Constance. 

He had not long to wait; soon his listening ear caught the gentleopening and closing of the door, and then he felt a light hand upon hisarm, and a sweet pitying voice said: "Poor Frank, poor boy, don't letthis overcome you so. "

[Illustration: "Poor Frank, don't let this overcome you. "]

One hand reached up and clasped the soft hand that rested on his arm, but he did not lift his head, as he said brokenly:

"Tell me the worst, Constance. "

"Why, Frank! the worst is told. "

"But, " his hand tightened its clasp, "_you_ know more than she has toldme. "

"No, Frank, nothing more. "

He lifted his pale face again. 

"Constance--that letter. "

She started and flushed. 

"What letter, Frank?"

"You know, " his eyes scanning her face hungrily. "Her letter. The one Ibrought you two days ago. What was it?"

She drew away her hand. 

"It was a note of farewell, Frank. Nothing more. "

"Then she told you?" he gasped, --caught his lips between his teeth, andwaited for her to finish the sentence. 

"She told me nothing, Frank. Oh, I wish she had. "

He sprang up, overturning his chair in his hasty excitement. 

"Nothing!" he cried "she told you _nothing_?"

"Absolutely nothing. The letter was an enigma. How strangely you act, Frank. I can't understand you. "

Slowly the life color returned to his cheeks and lips, as he answered, or stammered:

"Pardon me, Constance. I thought--I feared--I hoped there might be someexplanation. I thought she must have given you some reason for sohorrible a step. Are you sure there is no hint, no clue to help us?"

"Frank, listen: Sybil's note explained nothing. It only implored me notto think harshly of her, when I should know what she had done, and bademe farewell. I could not comprehend its meaning until the news reachedme that she had fled. "

"And you can not guess why she did this thing?"

"No. "

He turned away, putting his hand up before his face, and uttering agroan. Then he moved toward one of the French windows, pushed it open, and leaned out. 

"I feel as if I were going mad, " he muttered. "Constance, pardon me; Imust have the air. I must be alone to think, and to face this--thisdisgrace that has come upon us. "

And he stepped through the open window, and reeled rather than walkeddown the steps, and out among the trees. 

Constance watched him until the shrubbery hid him from view, and then, with a quick, nervous glance about the room, and out at the windows, shewent to the door which shut our tramp detective from view, but not fromhearing. 

"Come out, " she whispered, hurriedly. "Now is your time to escape. "

He came out, shaking himself like a water dog. 

"Ugh!" he exclaimed. "I have been in one position too long. "

"I am sorry, " began Constance. 

"Not for me, " he interrupted. "Like most listeners, I heard what I didnot bargain for; but--I have not heard too much. Miss Wardour, don'treproach yourself, or Fate; that little extra hearing was a godsend. And now, let me out, quickly, before some one else claims your time. "

She looked cautiously out into the hall, then closed the door again. 

"I wish I could know your opinion regarding this business--all of it, "she said, wistfully. "I begin to feel helpless, like a rudderlessmariner. "

"It's a hard knot, " he said, going toward the door; "a very hard knot. But we will untie it, Miss Wardour, and then you will understand allthese things. Now tell me, where is your detective going next?"

"I do not know. "

"You must find out, " imperatively. 

"I think I can. "

"And come to me in the garden. "

"Very well, " looking out once more. "Your way is clear, sir; go straightto the kitchen entrance. "

He passed out, and went his way, swiftly, quietly, and unobserved; andConstance returned to Mr. Belknap, and the completion of her jewel list. 

"The combat deepens, " mused the tramp detective, as he paced slowly downthe garden walk. "The plot, thickens. I come for a catfish, --I may catcha whale. Oh, what a knot; what a beautiful, delightful, horribly hardknot; and how my fingers itch to begin at it. But soft--easy; there ismore to be tied in. Let us pay out the rope, and wait. "

CHAPTER X. 

EVAN. 

Miss Wardour and the private detective had just completed their work oftransferring to paper a minute description of the Wardour diamonds, whenthe door opened quietly, and Francis Lamotte, pale, heavy-eyed, butquite composed, appeared before them. 

"Have you finished your work?" he asked wearily. "If so, may I intrude?"

"Come, by all means, " replied Constance, gently. "You are not intruding, Frank. "

"Thank you. " He came forward, and sank listlessly into a chair. "Constance, who brought you this news about--Sybil?"

Constance glanced toward the detective, and Francis, interpreting thelook, hastened to say:

"It is known to Mr. Belknap, I presume--this shameful business. There isno use of secrecy, where all the world is already agape. My sister, youtell me, has eloped with a low brute. I am numbed with the horror of it. But I must hear it all; every word, every particular. Who brought youthe news, Constance?"

"Doctor Heath, " replied the girl, icily. 

"Ah!"

The interjection came through shut teeth, and just for a moment thedark shadow flitted across his features; then he said, with quietcomposure:

"Heath? ah, yes; and he gave you all the particulars, --all that he hadgathered?"

"Doctor Heath told me all that he had learned, " she replied, stillcoldly. 

Frank Lamotte arose slowly, wearily. 

"I must see Heath, " he said, taking up his hat. "It is small wonder thatyou speak so frostily to the brother of a girl who has disgracedherself, Constance. However, I realize my fall; henceforth, I know myplace. "

The detective arose and moved uneasily to the window. 

"I am sorry to hear this absurdity, Frank, " said Constance, with someseverity. "You know my position always in these matters; only yourselfcan injure yourself in my eyes; and I am sorry to hear you speak thus ofSybil. I have yet to be convinced that in some manner, she is not more avictim than disloyal. _I_ have not condemned her; why should you, herbrother?"

A hot flush came over the young man's face, and his eyes glowed with astrange light. He shifted his position uneasily; then, abruptly, heturned to the detective. 

"If under the circumstances, and having seen my mood, you care to acceptmy hospitality, it is still extended, sir, " he said, somewhat awkwardly;"will you accompany me to town, and afterwards lunch with me?"

"I will accompany you to the town, " replied the detective, coming backfrom the window; "but I fear I must decline your hospitality for to-day;another time, perhaps. "

Francis bowed stiffly, then turned to Constance. 

"Constance, good bye, " he said, mournfully, and holding out his hand. "Iwill not displease you again; I will keep at a safe distance. "

"You will displease me by doing that, " she replied, kindly, at the sametime extending her hand. "I mean by staying away; I want you to comeoften, and to bring me any news that may come from Sybil. Remember, Iintend to be her champion, and you must be mine. "

"Then I _may_ come as a bringer of news?" he asked. 

"You may come as usual, " she retorted, a trifle sharply, "and come_especially_ when there is news. "

"Thank you;" he bowed over her hand, then turned to the privatedetective. 

"Good morning, Miss Wardour, " said that individual, coming forward; "itis probable that I shall not see you again, as I will leave for the citythis evening, but you will hear from me as the case progresses, or it ispossible that I may find it expedient to pay this place another visit. "

"In which case, you will of course present yourself, " smiled Constance. "May I ask where you intend to pass your time until you leave for thecity, sir?"

"I can hardly say; about the town, as it may happen. "

"Ah! Pardon the question; I was thinking of the business in hand; youcan hardly hope to find anything new in the village. "

"One can never tell, Miss Wardour. If I do learn anything new, you shallhear from me. Present my adieus to Mrs. Aliston, and once more goodday. "

Constance watched the two as they walked away together, the handsomelithe form of the younger man in such marked contrast with the shamblinggait of the detective. Only for a moment, however, then she went swiftlythrough the halls, out at a rear entrance, and down the path toward therear gardens. 

Here she found the tramp detective busy, or pretending to busy himselfwith a small pruning knife. 

"If you want to follow him, you must make haste, " she said, breathlessly; "he is walking townward with Mr. Lamotte; intends toloiter about the town and take some evening train. "

"Pray don't appear so much excited, " said the tramp detective, droppinghis pruning knife, and picking it up again with great deliberation. "There is a man coming up from the river, he must be getting pretty nearus. No, don't look now. "

"Dear me!" began Constance. 

"Listen, " he went on, without regarding her ejaculation. "I am going toleave here in two minutes; you can say that you have discharged me. Imay not see you again for months. I may return at any time. I may aswell warn you here, not to _confide_ anything to Mr. Belknap; at anothertime you will learn why. Another thing, it is just possible that youmay need my services at some future time. I was about to give you anaddress that will reach me at any time, but we may be observed by thatfellow who is coming. I will send you by mail a card containing theaddress. Pray call upon me if you need my aid. I hope Belknap will findyour robbers, but you were wise not to tell him that you had saved yourdiamonds. Keep your counsel on that subject always, Miss Wardour, itwill save you trouble. And now you had better move on. I intend tofollow and overtake your two departing guests. "

He turned carelessly away as he spoke, and Constance, after a pretenseof examining the shrubbery, faced about and walked a few paces down thepath, then lifting her eyes carelessly, they fell upon the intruder. Uttering a low ejaculation of surprise, she hastened toward him. 

"Evan! why Evan!" she cried, anxiously. "You look ghostly, and you mustbe in trouble. "

[Illustration: "Why, Evan, you look ghostly!"]

"Or I would not be here, " said Evan Lamotte, bitterly. "Evan, thene'er-do-well, does not seek his friends when the sun shines. Eh, Conny?Don't go in, " laying one hand upon her arm, as she was about to turntoward the house, "I--I came to talk with you. "

"But you will come in, Evan?"

"No, I should fall out with your old cat--I beg pardon, Con. , I meanyour old aunt, directly. "

"Aunt Honor shut herself in her own room an hour ago, child; she hasbeen worn out with too much excitement. We have had a detective here allthe morning, not to mention Frank, who has made a wonderful discovery. "

"I dare say, " muttered the young fellow, dryly, "Frank will make anotherwonderful discovery soon. Conny, " clutching at her arm again, "_have youheard_?"

"Have I heard what, Evan?"

"About Sybil--my sister, " his voice broke, ending in a sob. 

"Yes, Evan, " she replied, very gently, "I have heard. "

It was noticeable, the difference between her treatment of this youngerbrother of Sybil Lamotte and the one who had just gone. 

With Francis she had preserved, even while her heart was full ofsympathy and pity for his trouble, a certain dignity even in herkindness, an arm's length repellant stateliness, that galled andtormented the ardent, impulsive, and too eager young man. With Evan shewas all pity, all sympathy, full of familiar sisterly kindness andpatience. 

Women are strange creatures; we may be as handsome as the Apollo, andthey will steel their hearts against us. If we would have theconfidence, the caresses, the tenderest love of a pitying woman, we mustbe mentally, or morally, or physically maimed, or halt, or blind. 

Evan Lamotte was one of the world's unfortunates, and the pitying heartof the fair heiress had no scorn for such as he. A black sheep, so theycalled Evan Lamotte, not yet of age, with a slender physique, a pale, handsome face, handsome in spite of his dissipations. He seemedpossessed of an evil spirit, that cried incessantly, "drink, drink, drink. " Every means had been tried to win him from his dissipation;tears, entreaties, threats, bribes, were alike unavailing. In spite ofhimself, against himself, Evan Lamotte seemed driven downward by arelentless, unseen enemy. 

"Reckless, worthless, hopeless. " These were the adjectives commonlycoupled with his name, and yet his sister had deemed him worth herloving; his mother had deemed him worth her tears, and Constance Wardourhad deemed him worth her pitying kindness. 

"Constance, " he choked back the sobs that arose in his throat; "don'tthink that I have been drinking; when a fellow like me is grieved almostto madness, you call him maudlin, but I never cry in my cups, Con. And Ihave been perfectly sober since Saturday night, or if you like, yesterday morning. I drank hard all that day after they told me, Con. , but not one drop since; not one. Con. , tell me what have you heard?"

"About all that is known, I think, Evan. Oh! Evan, do you know, can youguess why she has done this--this terrible thing? Come down this walk, Evan; let us sit under that tree, on that bench. "

She moved toward the spot indicated, he following mechanically, andseating himself beside her, in obedience to her gesture. 

"Do I know the reason?" he repeated. "Do I guess it? Oh, if I couldguess it; it has haunted me every moment; that strong desire to knowwhat drove my sister to this fate? It is the question I came here toask. Con. , help me to think; she must have said something; must havegiven you some hint. "

"Alas. But she never did. "

"And you can not guess; you have no clue to help us unravel thismystery?"

Constance shook her head. 

"Con. , oh, Con. , _you_ don't think--you can't think that she lovedthat--that beast?"

"No, Evan, I can't think that. "

"Then, " excitedly; "you must think as I do; that there is a mystery;that there has been foul play. Con. , I don't care for anything on earth, except Sybil; I _must_ know what has driven her to this; I must helpher; I can help her; I can take her from that brute. "

His face was livid, and his eyes glowed with the fierce light that wehave seen in the eyes of his elder brother. Constance saw the growingexcitement, and sought to soothe it. 

"Evan, let us not anticipate, " she said, gently. "All that we can do forSybil shall be done, but it must be with her consent. When does yourfather come?"

"I don't know, " sullenly; "I telegraphed him Saturday; he will cometo-day, no doubt. But he will come too late. "

"Alas, yes; I regret so much that it was for my sake he was absent fromhome at such a time, and Frank, too. "

"Frank? bah! What could he do? What could any one do?"

She turned, and scanned his face keenly. 

"Evan, you suspect, or you know something. "

"I have a thought, " he replied. "I hardly dare call it a suspicion. If Icould know it to be the truth, " he hissed, between set, white teeth, "Ishould know what to do, then. "

"Don't look like that, Evan; you look wicked. "

"I feel wicked, " he cried, fiercely. "You can never guess how wicked. When I think of that brute, that beast, that viper; of the power he musthold over _her_, I am mad, crazed. But he will come back, and then--thenI will murder him, and set her free. "

With his gleaming eyes, his clenched hands, his white, uplifted face, helooked like a beautiful evil demon. Constance shuddered as she gazed, and then her hand closed firmly upon his arm, as she said:

"Evan, listen: Do you think it would lighten Sybil's burden to hear yourave thus? Do you want to make her lot still harder to bear? Sybil lovesyou. Would it make her heart lighter to have you embroil yourself forher sake? You know your faults. If you let this hideous idea take placein your mind now, it will break out some day when the demon possessesyou. If Sybil Lamotte returns, and hears you utter such threats, shewill have an added torture to bear; she will have two curses instead ofone. You can not help Sybil by committing an act that would cut you offfrom her forever. You have caused her heart-aches enough already. See, now, if you can not lighten her burden in some different, better way. But all this is superfluous, perhaps. I wonder if Sybil will come back, at all?"

Lower and lower sank his head, as he listened, and then something thatshe had said seemed to chain and hold his thoughts. 

Slowly the evil light faded from his eyes, and into his face crept astrange, fixed look. Forgetful of time, or of his companion's presence, his thoughts followed this new course, his hands clenching andunclenching themselves, his teeth burying themselves from time to timein his thin under lip. So long he sat thus, that Constance herself, fromwatching and wondering at his strange mood, wandered off into a sadreverie, the subject of which she could hardly have told, it was such avague mixture of Sybil's sorrows and her own unrest. 

After a time he stirred as if arousing himself with difficulty from anightmare; and Constance, recalled to herself, in turn, looked up toencounter his gaze, and to be astonished at the new, purposefulself-restraint upon his face, and the inscrutable intentness of his eye. 

"Con. , " he said slowly, even his voice seeming to have gained a newstrange undertone, "Con. , you are an angel. You have set me on my feet. "

"On your feet, Evan?"

"Yes, on my feet, mentally at least. I don't suppose any one could setme permanently on my physical, corporeal pins. Beg pardon for the slang, Conny, I don't forget how you and Sybil used to lecture me for that, andmy other vices. Poor sis, she had given up the drink talks latterly, given me over as hopeless, and so I am. Con. , I have made a newresolve. "

Constance smiled faintly. 

"Oh, you smile. You think I am going to swear off again. No, Con. , that's of no use, I should know myself for a liar all the time. I shallnever quit liquor; I _can't_ and I tell you, " he whispered thisfiercely, "they _know that I can't_, and they know _why_ I can't. Oh!you need not recoil; we are not the first family that has inherited ataint; and I am the one unfortunate in whom that taint has broken forth. Let me tell you a secret; since my first potation, my mother has neveronce remonstrated with me; never once upbraided; my proud, high temperedmother. She knows the folly of trying to reclaim the irreclaimable. But, " lowering his voice, sadly, "my mother never loved me. "

She shuddered at the tone, knowing that this last statement, at least, was all too true, and, to direct his thoughts from so painful anddelicate a subject, said:

"And your resolve then, Evan?"

"My resolve, " his mouth settling into hard lines once more. "Oh, that!well, it is a resolve you put into my head, Con. ; although I'll swearthe thought was never in _your_ mind. I have resolved to act upon youradvice; to curb my heathenish temper, and to _help Sybil_, when the_right time comes_, in the right way. "

She looked at him fixedly. 

"Evan, are you sure this last state of your mind is not worse than thefirst?"

He laughed, ironically. 

"How hard it is to make you believe that any good exists in me. "

"Oh, not that, Evan, but you look so strange; not so wild as before, but--"

"Just as wicked. "

"Well, yes!"

"Well, Con. , you can't expect a fellow to feel pious all in an instant;mine is a pious resolve, and the proper feeling must follow. Isn't thatabout how they preach it?"

"That's about how they preach it, sir. Now listen, I don't intend tostir one step, or allow you to stir, until you have explained some ofyour dark sayings; you are going to tell me what this new resolve is. "

Evan glanced at her from under his long lashes, and seemed to hesitate. He knew that Constance, in what he had sometimes termed her "imperativemood, " was a difficult element to contend with. But he was not quiteprepared to divulge just the precise thoughts that were in his mind. 

"Con. , " he said, slowly, "do you think, if my sister came back verypenitent, or very miserable, that my father would take her home?"

"I don't know, Evan. "

"Well, that's another of the things that brought me to you. I wasoverwhelmed with misery, and my head was chaos. I was wild to wreakvengeance upon that man, and filled with dread at the thought that Sybilmight come back and meet with no welcome. I believe she will come. Iknow that man would not miss the triumph of bringing her back among us. Now, Con. , my father thinks you infallible, and you can do anything withFrank. I want you to see them, and make them take Sybil home, when shecomes. Yes, and John Burrill, too, if she _will_ have him. "

"Why, Evan!"

"Then, " he went on, breathlessly, "the world must have a reason for thismarriage; for, not the greatest fool in W---- will believe that Sybilfreely chose that villain. Do you pave the way for Sybil's return; Iwill find a reason for the marriage, --a bone to throw to the dogs. For, I tell you, Con. , the true reason will never be told. "

Thinking of Sybil's letter, Constance could but agree with him in this;and that letter, too, had caused her to think that Sybil had expected, or hoped, or feared, a return to W----; which, she could only guess. 

"You will furnish a reason, Evan? You are mystifying me. "

"Never mind that. I, Evan Lamotte, worthless--black sheep--sot; _I_ willfind a reason, I tell you; one that will not be questioned, and thatwill spare Sybil. "

"And what then?"

"Then, aided by you, Sybil can come back to us. Aided by my new strongresolve, I will receive that Burrill, --it nearly chokes me to speak hisname, --just as Sybil shall dictate; and then, aided by the old man'smoney, we may be able to buy him off and get him out of the country. "

"Why, Evan Lamotte, " cried Constance, with a burst of hopefulness, "youhave actually evolved a practical scheme. I begin to feel lesshopeless. "

"Oh, I have a brain or two left, when a firm hand, like yours, shakes meup, sets me straight, and gets me in running order. Will you help, Con. ?"

"Will I help! Sybil Lamotte, if she comes back, will be warmly welcomedby me, and by all W----, if I can bring it about. "

He sprang to his feet and seized her hands. "Thank you, Conny, " hecried; "my heart is lightened now; I can 'bide my time, ' as the novelssay. Only do your part, Con. "

"Trust me for that. Now come to luncheon, Evan. "

He dropped her hands, and turned away abruptly. 

"I wont! I can't, " he said, almost gruffly. "Go in, Con. , and beprepared to welcome Sybil back; and I, " he added, moving away, andturning a wicked look over his shoulder, "will be prepared to welcomeBurrill;" a low, ironical laugh followed these words, and Evan Lamotteleaped the low garden palings, and went back as he had come, by theriver way. 

"What can that strange boy mean, " thought Constance, gazing after him;"he makes me nervous, and yet he was reasonable after his fashion. PoorEvan, he is indeed unfortunate; here he has been breaking his heart overSybil, and before night he may be singing in some saloon, in a state ofmad intoxication. Altogether, they are a very uncomfortable pair toentertain in one half day, Frank and Evan Lamotte. "

CHAPTER XI. 

THE END OF THE BEGINNING. 

Doctor Clifford Heath sat alone in his office at half-past eleveno'clock. His horse, "all saddled and bridled, " stood below in thestreet, awaiting him. On a small stand, near the door, lay his hat, riding whip, gloves. On the desk beside him, lay a small pyramid ofletters and papers, and these he was opening, and scanning in acareless, leisurely fashion, with his chair tilted back, his heels onhigh, his entire person very much at ease. 

Over one letter he seemed to ponder, blowing great clouds of smoke fromthe secret depths of a huge black Dutch pipe the while. Finally, he laidletter and pipe aside, lowered his feet, wheeled about in his chair, drew pen, ink, and paper before him on the desk, and began to writerapidly only a few lines, and the letter was done, and signed, andsealed, with grim satisfaction; then he gathered up his scatteredmissives, and locked them away carefully. 

"I won't go back, " he muttered, picking up his pipe once more. "Iwouldn't go now for a kingdom; I won't be put to rout by a woman, andthat is just what it would amount to. I'll see the play played out, andI'll stay in W----. "

Again the smoke puffed out from the black pipe; again the heels wereelevated, and, drawing some papers toward him, Dr. Heath began to absorbthe latest news, looking as little like a jilted lover or a despairingswain, as possible. 

Presently the office door opened to admit a tall, fair-haired, blue-eyedyoung man, of aristocratic bearing and handsome countenance, but lookingextremely haggard and heavy eyed. 

Doctor Heath turned his head lazily at the sound of the opening door, but seeing who his visitor was, he laid his pipe aside and arose withkindly alacrity. 

"Come along, Ray, old fellow, " he said cheerily, "why you look as if thewitches had made your bed. "

"It's about the way I feel, too, " said the new comer, dropping wearilyinto the easy chair pushed toward him. "Heath, you are a good fellow, and I can't blame you for thinking me a cad. Don't stop your smoke. "

"Why as to that, " replied the doctor, easily, and taking a long pull athis pipe, "we are all cads, more or less, in certain emergencies, andyours was an unusually severe blow. We all have to take them in someshape or other, at one time, or another; these soft hands hit hard, but--it's the penalty we pay for being sons of Adam. Although now that Icome to think of it, I can't recall that I ever insisted upon being ason of Adam. "

"Why!" said Raymond Vandyck, opening his eyes in languid surprise, "youtalk as if _you_ had received one of those hard hits. "

"So I have, my boy; so I have, " he replied _debonairly_. "If I were awoman I would get out a fresh handkerchief and tell you all about it. Being a man I--smoke. "

Young Vandyck sighed heavily, and picked up a newspaper, running his eyelistlessly over the columns. Here was another upon whom the flight ofSybil Lamotte had fallen a heavy blow. He had loved Sybil since theywere boy and girl, and lately for a few short months they had beenbetrothed, then Sybil had asked to be released, and in such a mannerthat it left him no room for remonstrance. The engagement had beenbroken, but the young man had not quite abandoned hope. 

Now, however, hope had deserted him. Sybil was lost to him utterly, andhearing the news of her flight he had rushed into Doctor Heath'spresence a temporary madman. He could not have found a wiser or moresympathetic friend and adviser, and he fully realized this fact. Thedoctor's patience, delicacy and discretion had screened him from theprying eyes and prating tongues of the curious ones, who were anxious toprobe his wounds, and see how "Vandyck would take it, " and had made himhis firm friend for always. 

Ever since the advent of Doctor Heath, Vandyck had been one of hiswarmest admirers, and this admiration had now ripened into a sincere andlasting friendship. 

"You are a good fellow, Heath, " said Vandyck, suddenly, throwing downhis paper. "I want to tell you that I appreciate such kindness as youdid me. I don't suppose you would ever go off your head like that. Ishan't again. "

"No, I don't think you will, " responded the doctor soberly. "As forgoing off my head, Lord bless you, man, it's in the temperament. I mightnever lose my head in just that way. We're not made alike, you see. NowI should be struck with a dumb devil, and grow surly and cynical as timewent on, and of all contemptible men a cynic is the worst. You will haveyour burst of passion, and carry a tender spot to your grave, but youcan't squeeze all the sunshine out of your soul, any more than out ofyour Saxon face. "

Vandyck laughed dismally. 

"It's hard lines, however, " he said. "But I'm bound to face the music. Only--I wish I could understand it. "

"So do all her friends. Ray, let me give you a little advice. "

"Well. "

"After a little, go call on Miss Wardour and talk with her about thisaffair. I think she knows as much as is known, and I am certain she hasnot lost her faith in her friend. "

"Thank you, Heath; I will. "

Just here the office door admitted another visitor in the form ofFrancis Lamotte. 

He, too, looked pale and worn, but he carried his head erect, if notwith some defiance. "Do, Heath. Morning, Vandyck, " he mumbled, flinginghimself upon a settee with scant ceremony. "You will excuse me fromasking 'what's the news?'"

"I should ask what's the matter?" retorted Clifford Heath, eyeing himclosely. 

"Fix me up one of your potions, Heath, " replied Francis, drawing a harddeep breath. "I've had another of those cursed attacks. "

Dr. Heath arose and went slowly toward a cabinet, slowly unlocked it andthen turned and surveyed his patient. 

"Another attack, " he said somewhat severely, "the second one in threedays, and not a light one, if I can judge. Let me tell you, Lamotte, youmust not have a third of these attacks for some time to come. "

[Illustration: "You must not have a third attack. "]

"I won't, " replied Lamotte, with a nervous laugh. "This one has done meup; I feel weak as a kitten, meek as a lamb. "

"Humph, " this from Doctor Heath, who proceeded to drop into a druggist'sglass, sundry globules of dark liquid, which he qualified with otherglobules from another bottle, and then half filling the glass with somepale brandy, handed it to Lamotte who drained it off eagerly. 

"Physician, heal thyself, " quoted Raymond Vandyck, watching the patientwith some interest. "Why don't you do your own dosing, Lamotte?"

"I'm shaky, " replied Lamotte, lifting an unsteady hand. "And then we areadvised to have faith in our physician. I should swallow my own mixturewith fear and trembling. "

"And pour it down your neighbor's throat with entire satisfaction, "interpolated Doctor Heath. 

"Precisely, just as you pour this stuff down mine. Thanks, Heath, "handing back the glass. "Now then, we are all friends here, and you twoknow what I wish to learn. Heath, " shading his eyes with his hand as hereclined on the settee. "I came back, from a two day's tramp about thecountry in search of Miss Wardour's robbers, or of traces of them, thismorning. Let that pass. I called at Wardour Place first of all, havejust come from there in fact--and Constance tells me--"

He paused as if struggling with some emotion, and Ray Vandyck stirreduneasily, flushed slightly, and partially turned away his face. OnlyClifford Heath retained his stoical calm. 

"Well!" he said coolly, "Miss Wardour tells you--what?"

"That my sister has run--away. "

"Oh! Well, Lamotte, I am glad you know it. It's a hard story to tell afriend. "

"So thought Constance, and she would give me no particulars, she toldme, " letting his hand fall from before his face, "to come to you. "

"And why to me?" coldly. 

"She said that you knew the particulars--that you brought her the news. "

"True; I did. Still it's a hard story to tell, Lamotte. "

"And no one will tell it more kindly, I know. Say on, Heath; don'tspare me, or mind Vandyck's presence--I don't. I know that I must hearthis thing, and I know that Ray is my friend. Go on, Heath; get it oversoon. "

Raymond Vandyck arose and walked to the window, standing with his backtoward them while Doctor Heath, in a plain, straightforward, kindlymanner, told the story of Sybil's flight, just as he had told it toConstance Wardour. 

For a long time after the story was done, Lamotte lay with his faceburied in his arms, silent and motionless, while young Vandyck stoodlike a graven image at his post by the window. 

Finally, Lamotte brought himself to a sitting posture, and, with thelook and tone of a man utterly crushed, said:

"Thank you, Heath. You have done me a kindness. This is the mostterrible, most unheard of thing. My poor sister must be mad. She has_not_ been herself, now that I remember, for some weeks. Something hasbeen preying upon her spirits. There has been--by heavens! Ray, RayVandyck, can you guess at the cause of this madness?"

Raymond Vandyck wheeled suddenly, and came close to his interlocutor, the hot, angry blood surging to his face. 

"There was plenty of 'method in this madness, '" he sneered. "As to the_cause_, it may not be so hard to discover as you seem to imagine. " And, before they could recover from their astonishment, he was out and away, banging the door fiercely as he went. 

For a moment the lurid light gleamed in Frank Lamotte's eye, and itseemed that another "attack" was about to seize him, but he calmedhimself with a mighty effort, and turning toward Doctor Heath, said, plaintively:

"Has all the world run mad, Heath? What the devil does that fellowmean?"

"I know no more than you, Lamotte, " said the doctor, upon whose face sata look of genuine surprise. "I don't think he quite knows himself. Hehas been sadly worked up by this affair. "

"Humph! I suppose so. Well, for Sybil's sake, I forgive him, this once;but--I hope he will outgrow these hallucinations. "

"Doubtless he will, " replied the doctor, somewhat drily. "I say, Lamotte, you had better run down to my house, and turn in for a coupleof hours; you look done up, --and you can't stand much more of this sortof thing. I must go now, to see old Mrs. Grady, over at the mills. "

"Then I will just stretch myself here, Heath, " replied Lamotte. "I don'tfeel equal to a start out just now; and, look here, old fellow, " turninga shade paler, as he spoke, "deal gently with a fallen rival afterthis--disgrace. Of course, I quit the field; but--don't ride over me toohard. "

The doctor drew on his riding gloves with grave precision, put his haton his head, and took up his riding whip; then he turned toward Lamotte. 

"I suppose you refer to Miss Wardour?" he said blandly. 

"Of course. "

"Then rest easy. I do not pretend in that quarter. Miss Wardour is yoursfor all me; and--you are not such a fool as to think that she will letyour sister's affair alter her feelings for you--if she cares for you?"

Lamotte sprang up, staring with surprise. 

"Why, but--Heath, you owned yourself my rival!"

"True. "

"And--upon my word, I believe you were ahead of the field. "

"True again; but--_I have withdrawn_. " And Doctor Heath went out, closedthe door deliberately, and ran lightly down the stairs. He found RayVandyck loitering on the pavement. 

"I knew you would be down presently, " said Vandyck, anxiously; "I wantto say, Heath, don't notice what I said to that cad. He maddened me;above all, don't think that one word I uttered was intended to reflectupon _her_. "

"He has withdrawn, " muttered Francis Lamotte, settling himself back ascomfortably as possible, and clasping his hands behind his head. 

"And _he_ means what he says; something has happened in my absence; Ican't understand it, but it's so much the better for me. "

CHAPTER XII. 

THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

Saturday, Sunday, Monday, three days; three nights. The eventschronicled in the foregoing chapters, crowded themselves into the spaceof three days. 

But these were exceptional days; life does not move on thus, especiallyin the usually staid and well regulated town of W----. Men and women arenot qualified to run a long, high pressure race. Action, andthen--reaction. Reaction from every emotion, every sorrow, every joy. God help us. 

We weep for days, but not for years. We suffer, but here and there comesa respite from our pain. We live in a delirium of joy for a brief space, and vegetate in dullness, in apathy, in hardness of heart, inindifference, or in despair, according to our various natures, for therest of our natural lives. So let it be, it is the lot common to all. 

 "No man can hide from it, but it will find him out, Nor run from it, but it overtaketh him. "

After the robbery, after the flight, after the coming and departure ofthe two detectives, dullness settled down upon our friends in W----. 

It is needless to chronicle the effect of the news of their daughter'sflight, upon Mr. And Mrs. Lamotte. 

That is a thing we can all understand; we can picture it for ourselves. 

Mrs. Lamotte shut herself up in her chamber, and refused to be comfortedby family or friends. Mr. Lamotte, bitterly grieved, terribly shocked, did all that a father could do, which was in effect, nothing. 

One day, the mail brought them a copy of the marriage certificate ofSybil Lamotte and John Burrill; but that was all. Where the fugitiveshad gone, could not be discovered. 

Francis Lamotte went about as usual; with a little more of haughtiness, a little more reserve, and just a tinge of melancholy in his manner. Hetook Constance at her word, and came and went very much as of old, butwas so watchful over himself, so subdued, and as she thought, improvedin manner, that she declared confidentially to her aunt that he hadbecome "really quite a comfortable person to have in one's parlor. " Sheceased snubbing him altogether, and received him with the frankgraciousness that used to charm Doctor Heath; assuring herself, often, that "trouble was improving poor Frank. "

Evan Lamotte was Evan Lamotte still. Now drunk, now sober; a little morefurious and ready to quarrel than usual, when in his cups; a little moretaciturn and inclined to solitude in his sober moments. 

Doctor Heath went about among his patients, wearing his usual cheerysmile, speaking the usual comforting word, smoking, philosophizing, rallying his friends, satirizing his enemies, genial, independent, inscrutable as ever. He never called at Wardour Place, of course. Henever sought an opportunity for meeting or seeing Constance, and henever avoided her; altogether, his conduct, from a romantic standpoint, was very reprehensible. 

And Constance; perhaps of them all, these three days had effected thegreatest change in her, as any chain of startling or strange eventsmust, in a measure, change the current of thought and feeling in a lifethat has hitherto floated under a roseate cloud, on a sea without aripple. She had been rocked by storm waves; had seen a bark shipwreckedclose beside her; had even encountered mutiny in her own craft; when thelull came, and she drifted quietly, she found herself forever face toface with the facts that sorrow and trouble were abroad in the land, that crime existed outside of the newspapers; that heartache and selfdissatisfaction were possibilities, and that even a queen absolute mightcome under the shadow of each and all. Not that Constance had never beenaware of all these things, but we never can _realize_ what we have neverexperienced. 

We look sadly sympathetic, and murmur "poor things, " when we see somemourner weeping over a dead loved one, but we never comprehend thesorrow until we bury our own dead. 

Constance had loved Sybil Lamotte as a sister; she thought and sorrowednot a little over the strange freak Fate had played with her friend'slife, and she wondered often if Doctor Heath had really lost all regardfor her; she knew, as what woman does not, that a warm regard had onceexisted; and she assured herself that whether he had or not, was amatter of no consequence to her. "She had not the slightest interest inDoctor Heath, " so she told Mrs. Aliston, and, like him, she never soughtnor avoided a meeting. 

It is singular, however, that a man who possessed for her "not theslightest interest" should so often present himself to her thoughts, andcertain it is that at this period of our story her mind had a mostprovoking habit of running away from a variety of subjects straight toClifford Heath, M. D. But women at best are strange creatures, andsubject to singular phenomena. 

Mrs. Aliston just here experienced some dissatisfaction; Clifford Heathwas with her a favorite; Francis Lamotte was her pet hatred. To see thefavorite made conspicuous by his absence, and have his name, like thatof a disinherited daughter, tabooed from the family converse, while theobnoxious Francis, because of his provokingly good behavior, made rapidstrides into the good graces of the queen of the castle, would haveexasperated most good, maneuvering old ladies, but Mrs. Alistonmaneuvered principally for her own comfort, so she sighed a little, regretted the present state of affairs in a resigned and becomingmanner, ceased to mention the name of Doctor Heath, and condescended toreceive Francis graciously, after that young man had made a specialcall, during which he saw only Mrs. Aliston, and apologized amply andmost humbly for his unceremonious ejectment of that lady in favor ofConstance, on the day when the former undertook, "as gently aspossible, " to break to him the news of his sister's flight. 

To make an apology gracefully is in itself, an art; and this art FrancisLamotte was skilled in; indeed but for a certain physical weakness, hewould have been an ornament to the diplomatic service. Alas, that theremust always be a "but" in the way of our moral completeness, ourphysical perfection and our life's success. 

Days and weeks passed on, and the household of Wardour remained inutmost quiet; that at Mapleton, shrouded in gloom and sorrowfulseclusion. Mrs. Lamotte saw no one. Mr. Lamotte went out only to lookafter his business interests. 

When the copy of Sybil's marriage certificate came, Frank, like a loyalknight, came to Constance with the news, told it with a sad countenanceand in few words, and went away soon and sorrowfully. 

One day, not long after, Mrs. Aliston returned from the town where shehad spent four long hours in calling upon the wives of the Episcopalian, the Unitarian and the Presbyterian ministers, for Mrs. Aliston was aliberal soul, and hurled herself into Constance's favorite sitting room, in a state of unusual excitement. 

"Well, Con. , " she panted, pulling hard the while at her squeezed ongloves, "I've found it out;" and she dropped into the easiest chair, andpulled and panted afresh. 

Constance looked up from a rather uninteresting "Novel with a Moral, "and asked, as indifferently as possible:

"What have you found out, auntie?"

"About Sybil. "

Constance laid down her book, and her tone underwent a change. 

"If it's any thing more than gossip, auntie, tell me quick. "

"Oh, it isn't gossip; at least they all say it's true. And as forgossip, Con. , I tell you, you have done something toward stopping that. "

Con. Laughed like one who is conscious of her power. 

"Yes, indeed, " rattled on Mrs. Aliston. "Mrs. Wooster says, and if she_is_ a Unitarian she is certainly a very good and truthful woman, thatshe has heard from various ones that you have openly declared againstthe handling of poor Sybil's name among the people who have calledthemselves her friends, and accepted so often her mother's hospitality. And she said--these are her very words, Con. --'I was delighted, dearMrs. Aliston, for we all know that these gossip lovers, every one ofthem, will deny themselves the luxury of tearing Sybil to pieces, knowing that she has a champion in Miss Wardour. ' So much for influence, Con. "

"Bah!" retorted Con. , wise in her generation. "So much for money, andhow do I know that I have not lost my prestige along with my diamonds. Auntie, you have lost the thread of your discourse; you always do. "

"So you always tell me, " laughed the elderly chatterbox. "Well, Con. , they say that Sybil has sacrificed herself. "

"Do they?" said Con. , sarcastically; "the wise heads. I hope thatconclusion has not exhausted their keen intellects, whoever 'they' maybe. As if the sacrifice were not patent on the face of the thing. "

"Con. You talk like a--a stump orator. "

"Do I? Well, I'm glad of it; it would not be so bad to be a 'stumporator, ' or any other sort of male animal, for the older I grow the moreI incline to the belief that women are fools. But go on, auntie; Ibelieve I get 'riled' every time I hear Sybil's name. What else do'they' say?"

"You don't deserve to be told, you are so impatient; but I will tell youthis once. I was about to add that it seems to be an accepted fact thatSybil sacrificed herself to save Evan from some sort of exposure anddisgrace. And they say that some of those rough men in a saloon threwthe thing in Evan's teeth, and that he replied in his odd way:

"'Yes, she did it for my sake, and now the first man of you thatmentions my sister's name in my hearing will go under. ' You know theyare afraid of Evan in his rages. "

Constance opened her mouth impulsively, but she choked back the wordsthat rushed forward for utterance, and closing her lips tightly, satstaring straight before her, a strange expression creeping into herface. 

She seemed to hear anew Evan's words: "Do your part, I will do mine. I, Evan Lamotte, worthless, black sheep, sot; I will find a reason thatwill not be questioned, and that will spare Sybil. "

And he had found a reason. The black sheep was offered up a sacrifice. Evan Lamotte had flung away his last rag of respectability for hissister's sake. Henceforth he would appear in the eyes of the peopledoubly blackened, doubly degraded, the destroyer of his sister'shappiness, the blight upon her life, and yet, he was innocent of this;he was a martyr; he the ne'er-do-well, the inebriate. 

Constance was strangely moved by this self-sacrifice, coming from onewho was so morally weak; if it had been Frank, but here her lip curledcontemptuously; instinctively she knew that such self-sacrifice was notin Frank's nature, any more than was such self-abandonment to weakness. Constance began to wonder if Frank and his parents knew the truth. Ifthey had permitted the weakest shoulders to bear the burden; or, if Evanhad deceived them too, and then she murmured, almost in the language ofthe tramp detective:

"It's a thing for time to unravel. It's a play just begun. It's a hard, hard knot. "

And, then and there, she took Sybil and Evan to her generous heart ofhearts, and mentally resolved to be their champion and friend to theuttermost, while she would judge their parents and their brotheraccording as these dealt by the unfortunates. 

It was many days before she saw Evan, for, although in true womanfashion, she longed to scold him first for so sacrificing himself, andpraise him after for his generous true heartedness, she knew that hewould only be distressed by such an interview, and would obey a summonsfrom her reluctantly if at all. 

But one day, just as she was driving her ponies out through the gates ofWardour Place, she saw a horseman riding furiously up the road, and anearer view revealed Frank Lamotte's fine horse and mounted by Evan. 

His eyes were flaming with excitement, and there was a burning spot ofred on either cheek as he reined up his horse beside her, and Constancesaw at a glance that, again, he was perfectly sober. 

"Conny, " he cried breathlessly, "it has come. "

[Illustration: "Conny, it has come. "]

"What has come, Evan?"

"The day we hoped for; we have heard from Sybil. "

"A letter! Oh Evan, tell me all about it. "

"I can't, there is no time; only, Con. , it's your turn now. It's yourtime to strike for Sybil. They are holding council over the letter, andcan't decide, whether the old gentleman shall go at once and see Sybil;whether they shall bring her back and swallow the Burrill; for, it seemshe must be swallowed, and what society will think about it, are thequestions that they are agitating. Mother says, that Sybil must andshall come back; father says he will go and see her; and Frank--" hebroke off abruptly and bent down to look at his saddle girth. 

"And Frank; what does he say, Evan?"

"Frank is a fool, " snapped Evan irrelevantly. "What _he_ says is nomatter; only, Conny, now is your time, if you will only have faith inwhat I say. You are out with your ponies; drive straight to Mapleton, and don't mention me. You will be admitted to mother. Father is there, and Frank; give them the least chance, and they will tell you aboutSybil, and then you can manage the rest. Tell them to bring her back, even with that beastly incumbrance. They will listen to you; they won'tto me. If you fail me here, then--"

"Then your sacrifice goes for nothing. Oh, Evan, did you think I wouldnot understand that? You have wronged yourself for Sybil's sake. But youshall have a tithe of your reward. And, dear boy, you should not havedone this thing; we might have found another way. "

"Nonsense, Conny! It was the only way. And what is my life worth, or myreputation, either? It can't hurt a poor devil like me. Con. , will yougo?"

"I will go straight to Mapleton, Evan. You shall see that I have faithin you. I will do just as you direct, and all will go well. "

"Then I'm off. I stole Frank's horse. I must get him back to avoid arow. Thank you, Conny; you are a true friend. "

"Good-bye, Evan. Come to me with all the news, or when you want help. "

"I won't forget, " wheeling his horse about; then, in a choking voice, "God bless you, Conny, " and a moment later, he was away down the road, galloping in a cloud of dust. 

Constance followed in his wake, keeping her ponies at a sober pace. 

"I wonder how he found out these things. Poor boy!" she murmured, halfaloud, "he is not one at their family councils; of that I am sure. Hisfather has lost all patience with him; and yet, he knows all that isgoing on. I wonder how. "

If Evan Lamotte had heard this query, and had chosen to answer it, hewould have said: "_I watch and I listen. _"

CHAPTER XIII. 

CONSTANCE'S DIPLOMACY. 

Miss Wardour, being Miss Wardour, was apt to succeed in most things, andit is fair to suppose that her visit to Mapleton, in the character ofintercessor for the erring Sybil, was not a fruitless one. Certainly, itwas not barren of results. 

On the day following the call from Constance, Mrs. Lamotte came forthfrom her seclusion; her carriage bore her out from the gates ofMapleton, and straight to Wardour Place. Here she took up the heiressand Mrs. Aliston, and the three drove ostentatiously through the streetsof W----, bowing smilingly here and there, as calm, serene, and eleganta trio, to all outward seeming, as ever passed before admiring eyes onvelvet cushions. 

This act informed W---- that Mrs. Lamotte was once more visible, and "athome, " and when a day or two later, Constance and her aunt, in splendidarray, drove again into W----, calling here and there, and dropping uponeach hearthstone a bit of manna for family digestion, the result waswhat they intended it should be. 

"Have you heard the news?" asks Mrs. Hopkins, fashionable busybody, running in for an informal call on Mrs. O'Meara, who is warm-heartedand sensible, and who listens to the babblings of Mrs. Hopkins, with apatience and benignity worthy of a Spartan mother. 

"No! Well, I am dying to tell it, then. Sybil Lamotte is comingback--actually coming back--and that man with her; and--won't it bequeer? We shall have him in society, of course, for I am told, from the_best_ of sources, that the Lamottes will accept him as Sybil's choice, and make the best of him. "

"But _we_ need not accept him, my dear, " comments the Spartan mother, whose lawyer husband is rich and independent, and does not count fees. "As for Sybil, she was always a favorite with us; we shall be glad tohave her back. "

"Yes, that's very well for you and Mr. O'Meara, who are very exclusive, and go out little, but we poor society people will have to submit to thepowers that be. Constance Wardour, the Lamottes, the Vandycks, have ledus as they would, and queer as it may seem, the Lamottes are backed upin this business of forcing John Burrill upon us, by Constance, on onehand, and the Vandycks, mother and son, on the other. "

"And Mrs. Aliston?"

"Mrs. Aliston, of course. When did she ever oppose Constance? It'smaking a great furore, I can tell you; but no one is going to stepforward and openly oppose Constance and the Vandycks. I for one amSybil's staunch friend, and--well, as Constance says, 'let us take itfor granted that this bear of Sybil's has some good qualities, or hewould never have won her, ' and then, too, it's so romantic, about Evanyou know, and how Sybil, in some way, saved him from something, bymarrying this man. I never could get the right end, or any end of thatstory, nor have I found any one who knows the plain facts. Well, Mrs. O'Meara, I must go; I have seven more calls to make, and I really havetalked too long. "

"_She'll_ take him up fast enough, " mused Mrs. O'Meara, in solitude. "That's the way of society; they can't oppose wealth and prestige, evenwhen prestige and wealth command them to fellowship with a grizzly bear;rather they will whitewash their bear, and call him a thing of beauty, and laugh in their silken sleeves to see him dance. "

It was quite true, that bombshell of Mrs. Hopkins'--Sybil Lamotte wascoming back. Mr. Lamotte went somewhere, nobody could name just theplace, and returned, having done, nobody knew precisely what; and as theresult of that journey, so said W----, Sybil and John Burrill werecoming soon, to breast the waves of public opinion, and take up theirabode in Mapleton. 

When this fact became well established, tongues wagged briskly; somewere sorry; some were glad; some eager for the advent of the illassorted pair. 

The sorriest one of all was unhappy Ray Vandyck, who realized how hard atask would devolve upon him; and the gladdest of the glad was poor Evan, who celebrated his rejoicing with one of the wildest and most protractedof all his sprees. 

Constance had won Sybil's battle. In accordance with the hint given byDr. Heath, Raymond Vandyck had called at Wardour Place, and the resultof that call was patent to the eyes of all W----. Ray, the rejected, hadgone over to the support of his lost love and taken his mother with him. 

At last they came, after the nine days' talk had subsided, afterW---- had become accustomed to the idea, quietly, unostentatiously. Before their arrival had become known, they were established at Mapleton. 

Everybody admitted that they displayed good taste and judgment in themanner of their home coming, but when, except in the case of thishorrible choice of Sybil's, did not the Lamottes display good taste. People said "The Lamottes, " without so much as recognizing the existenceof poor Evan. 

Meantime the days were numbering themselves. It was June when SybilLamotte fled away with her Bear. It is September before they return;during these three months Constance has heard from Detective Belknap. Heis always afar off, always on the track of her robbers, and she readshis reports, honors his drafts for "expense money, " and troubles herhead no more about the "Wardour robbery" or the "Wardour diamonds. "

Of Detective Bathurst there came never a word or sign, either to theheiress or to Doctor Heath. 

But it is time to introduce our Bear. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

JOHN BURRILL, ARISTOCRAT. 

Mapleton stands high on an eminence, which may have arisen expressly tohold, and to exhibit, the splendid edifice erected thereon by Mr. JasperLamotte. It is the only hill within sight on that side of the river, andrenders Mapleton a most conspicuous as well as most beautiful abidingplace. 

In front of the dwelling and its grounds flows the river, broad andglittering in the sunshine, on this day of which I write. In the rearstretches a grove, large enough to be termed "the grove" by the peopleof W----; and dense enough for Robin Hood and his merry men to findcomfort in, for Jasper Lamotte has chosen to let it remain _ennaturale_, since it first came into his possession. 

To reach Mapleton from Wardour Place one must drive directly to thecenter of W----, turn eastward, then cross a handsome new iron bridge, and go southward a short distance, coming finally to the broad curvewhich sweeps up to the mansion, and away from the river, along which theroad winds. 

In the old days, when Sybil Lamotte and Constance Wardour foundexcellent reasons for meeting and chatting together, at least once inevery twenty-four hours, this fair river was a source of alternatepleasure and annoyance to them. Of pleasure, when the days were fair, and Sybil and Frank could pull their boat up stream, and land at thegrassy slope in the rear of Wardour Place, where, often, they foundConstance and a gay party awaiting them. Or, when Constance could driftdown stream with scarcely the stroke of an oar necessary, until she cameopposite "the hill, " as Mapleton was often called. Of annoyance, whenwinds blew cold and rough, and the waters of the river turned black andangry, and surged high between its banks. Then the two young ladiesvoted the iron bridge "the coldest place possible, " and wished that nodark, wintry river flowed between them. 

The river is very calm to-day, however; it is flowing gently, murmuringsoftly, and gleaming silver and blue, beneath a soft September sun. Awaydown, where the factories stand, and the great wheels turn, it loses itsblue and silver, flowing under that ever moving, never lifting curtainof smoke, that darkens and dims the skies themselves, and gives to thesun's face the look of a disreputable celestial tramp. 

It's always gray, "down at the factories, " and why not? What need havethe toilers there for sunlight? They have work and sleep. 

There is nothing gray or dreary about Mapleton, as we enter there andsurvey the inmates who, just now, are loitering about the lunch table. Nothing gray, if we except a few silver threads in the hair of Mrs. Lamotte; nothing dreary, unless it may be a look which, now and then, and only for an instant, creeps into the eyes of Mrs. John Burrill. 

They sit about the lunch table, --all but Sybil. She has arisen, andreseated herself in a great easy chair, which seems to swallow up herslight form, and renders her quite invisible to all at the table, saveEvan, who, from time to time, glances furtively across at her. 

There may be dissension in this family, but they look the embodiment ofhigh-bred ease and serene contentment. 

Jasper Lamotte turns his paper, sips his light wine, speaks suavely, andlooks as placid as the sky overhead. 

Mrs. Lamotte speaks slow and seldom; smiles when she does speak; andlooks as if nothing ever ruffled the placidity of her mind, or the eventenor of her pleasant existence. She looks all this, sitting directlyopposite John Burrill, her reluctantly accepted son-in-law, for whatMrs. Lamotte cannot overcome, she ignores, and her proud calm is theresult of a long and bitter schooling. 

Sybil looks paler than is usual for her, but no other expression thanone of calmness and _ennui_ can be detected on that lovely, inscrutableface; and the dusky eyes keep well veiled, and tell no secrets. 

Evan Lamotte is sober, and good humored, for his sister's sake; andFrank is simply lazy. 

But John Burrill! there is no contentment equal to his; seated in theeasiest of chairs, before a table laden with viands upon which he hasjust gorged himself, he contemplates his legs and his surroundings withextreme satisfaction; his legs first, because, being stretched directlybefore him, they come first under his eye; and he is delighted withtheir size, and shape; they are a fine pair, such as would do credit toa bull fighter, or a "champion pedestrian, " and with the quality and cutof the pantaloons that adorn them. It has not always been his goodfortune to sit at a rich man's table, and to wear fashionable clothing;and John Burrill appreciates his "marcies. " He has feasted his stomach, and John Burrill's stomach comes in for a large share of hisconsideration; and now he is feasting his senses: this richly appointedroom is his room; this splendid stately lady, how he delights to callher "mother, " varied occasionally by "mother-in-law;" how he glories inthe possession of a pair of aristocratic brothers-in-law; and how heswells with pride, when he steps into the carriage, and, sitting beside"the rich Mr. Lamotte, " is driven through W---- and to the factories;and last, and best of all, there is his wife, a beauty, a belle, anheiress, possessing a score of lovers, yet won by him. 

Only one thing troubles John Burrill, he does not quite understandSybil; he has "got the hang, " so he thinks of the other members of thefamily, but sometimes Sybil's wordless glance operates upon him like acold shower bath, and Mr. Burrill, like all the "gutter born, " ratherfears a shower bath. 

Coarse in sense and sentiment, plebeian in body and soul; whatever elseSybil Lamotte's husband may be, let our story develop. 

Quitting his place now, he crosses the room, and, taking up a positionwhere his eyes can gloat upon Sybil's face, he rests one elbow upon amantel, and so, in a comfortable after-dinner attitude, continues hispleasant meditations. Sybil stirs uneasily, but notices his proximity inno other way. Presently her eyes shoot straight past him, and she saysto Evan who has also risen, and stands stretching himself, lazily, withhis face to the window, and his back toward the assembly:

"Evan, just hand me that book on the mantel. No, not _that_ one, " as helays his ready hand on the book nearest him, "the other. "

"Oh!" ejaculates Evan, at the same moment laying hand upon a volumedirectly underneath John Burrill's elbow. "Hoist up your arrum, Burrill. 'My lady's up, and wants her wollum. '"

John Burrill's face reddens slowly. He is an Englishman, and sometimeshis H's and A's play him sorry tricks, although he has labored hard toAmericanize himself, and likes to think that he has succeeded. 

"D--n it!" broke out the man, suddenly losing his after dinner calm. "You might have asked _me_ for the book, Sybil; it was near enough. "

Sybil received the book from Evan's hand, opened it, turned a page ortwo, and then lifting her eyes to his face, replied in a voice, low, clear, and cutting as the north wind:

"Evan is my slave, Mr. Burrill, _you_--are my lord and master. "Indescribable contempt shone upon him for a moment from her splendideyes; then she lowered them, and became, apparently, wholly absorbed inher book. 

John Burrill muttered something very low, and probably very ugly, anddropped back into his former attitude; and the others, never by word orglance, noticed this little passage at arms. Only Evan returned to thewindow, and standing there with hands in pockets, glowered down upon thefrost-touched rose trees and clustered geraniums, savagely, and long. 

Presently, Evan turns from the window, which commands a view of thedrive. 

"Constance is coming, " he says, addressing Sybil. 

She starts up, looking anxious and disturbed; Constance has visited her, and she has driven over once to see Constance; but it has so happenedthat John Burrill has always been absent; and Sybil has a shudderinghorror of this meeting that must be. 

The announcement seems to galvanize them all into life. Mr. Lamottelooks up with a gleam of latent anticipation in his eyes; Frank smileshis pleasure; and John Burrill steals a deprecatory glance at a mirror, smoothes a wrinkle out of his waistcoat, and outsmiles Frank. Here isanother triumph; he is about to be introduced to the richest girl in thecountry; to meet her on an equal footing, in the character of husband toher dearest friend. 

Sybil rises and goes to the window; her pale face flushing. There is arolling of wheels, a sound of swift, firm footsteps without, and thenthe door opens, and Constance is announced. 

She follows her name in her usual free, at home fashion, and in a momentis kissing Sybil, shaking hands with Mrs. Lamotte, exchanging smilingsalutations with Mr. Lamotte, and gay badinage with Francis. And then, while Sybil still hesitates, Evan comes to the rescue. 

With a face of preternatural gravity, he advances, seizes the arm ofJohn Burrill, drags him toward Constance, and says, with elaboratepoliteness:

"Constance, allow me to present my new brother-in-law, Mr. Burrill. Brother-in-law, this is Miss Wardour, of Wardour Place. "

In spite of themselves, they smile; all except Sybil. John Burrill feelsthat somehow, he is made ridiculous; that another man in his place wouldnot have been thus introduced. But the eyes of the heiress are upon hisface, her daintily gloved hand is proffered him, and she lies in hersoftest contralto, and unblushingly:

"I am happy to know you, Mr. Burrill. "

[Illustration: "I am happy to know you. "]

Somehow, they all breathe freer after that pretty falsehood. JohnBurrill regains his composure, and relapses into his former state ofcomfortable gloating. Another face is added to the circle of high-bredpeople around him. He does not talk much, for he is not yet quite at hisease when in conversation with them. As they talk, he thinks what a finenest this is which he has gained for himself; what a lovely woman is hiswife; and how splendidly handsome is Miss Wardour. He thinks how, by andby, he will boast to some of his choice spirits, of his friendship forMiss Wardour, and of the value in which she holds his esteem. He thinkshow good is the Lamotte cook, and how, presently, he will sample theLamotte wines, and smoke a splendid segar; and then he pricks up hisears and listens, for the conversation has drifted away from thecommonplace, and Miss Wardour is saying:

"It really is a forlorn hope, I fear, Mr. Lamotte. I don't know what toreply to Mr. Belknap, but I think he is wasting his time, and I mymoney; and, if you will communicate with him, as he failed to name hisaddress in his note to me, we will close up the case. "

"And say farewell to your diamonds?"

"I have performed that ceremony some time since. I really am worn outwith the subject. At some other time I may resume the search. "

"You are getting discouraged. "

"Call it that, if you like. "

"Excuse me, if I pursue so wearisome a subject, Constance; but--does notMr. Belknap hint at a new clue in this note of his? You must know he haswritten me also. "

"He hints, and very vaguely. "

"Well, I am anxious to look into this matter a little further. As aspecial favor to me will you retain the services of Mr. Belknap a littlelonger?"

"As you make such a point of it, yes, Mr. Lamotte; but--do you reallyhope to find anything new, at this late day?"

"I really do, my child, but can not put my ideas in shape, as yet. Ithink we shall have Mr. Belknap among us soon. "

"Well, don't let him persecute me, that's all, " stipulated Constance. "Ihave lost my faith in detectives. "

"All this talk reminds me, Constance, " interrupted Sybil, "mamma has hadher diamonds reset for me, and they are really beautiful; besides which, papa and Mr. Burrill have added to the collection, so that in theabsence of yours, I may set myself up as diamond queen. Come to my roomand be dazzled. "

"And leave us under a cloud, " chimed in Frank. "Burrill, come, let'sadjourn to the billiard room, and have a segar;" and intent upon keepinghis brother-in-law in order during the time Constance should be underthe roof, he slapped him cordially on his brawny shoulder, and they wentout in most amiable and brotherly fashion, and entered the billiardroom, where Frank permitted Burrill to cheat at the game, and eventuallywin it, much to the delight of that personage. 

When they had left the morning room, Evan Lamotte, too, sauntered outand down the hall, and, hearing their voices in amiable dialogue, interspersed by the click of the billiard balls, he muttered:

"Ah, Constance, you are a witch indeed! you have made my magnificentbrother adopt my _rôle_ for once; so long as you are here we may dependupon Frank to keep our bull out of the china shop. So, as one good turndeserves another, I will just give your mare a turn and look in at 'OldForty Rods;' I'm safe to go off duty for the day. "

And ten minutes later the reckless youth was galloping Frank's bloodedmare along the highway _en route_ for the saloon known to the initiatedas "Old Forty Rods. "

Left alone together, Mr. Jasper Lamotte and his wife gazed at each otherin silence for a moment, and then he said:

"Do you think it safe to leave them alone together too long?"

"Who, Frank and----"

"Pshaw, no; the girls. "

"It is quite safe; nevertheless I will go up to them, " and Mrs. Lamottearose and went slowly up the stairs, and softly past the door whereSybil and Constance sat together, straight to her own room, which sheentered, closed and locked the door carefully, and allowing the look ofhaughty calm to die out of her face, she threw herself into a dressingchair, and pressed two feverish hands against a face that was sad andbitter and full of weariness. 

Left to his own devices, Jasper Lamotte seated himself at a desk anddashed off a few hurried lines, which he directed to

 "Mr. Jerry Belknap, "No. --, Room 7, Blank St. , "N. Y. "

CHAPTER XV. 

DIAMONDS. 

Constance followed her friend up to the room where they had so oftenpassed long hours together, wondering idly at Sybil's composure andseeming resignation, and shudderingly recalling the blank devouringstare of the man who was her husband. 

It was the first time since Sybil's return that they had been alonetogether, and Constance half dreaded the interview, as well as wonderednot a little that the opportunity was of Sybil's own making; hithertoshe seemed anxious to avoid a _tęte-ŕ-tęte_. 

Sybil moved straight on in advance of her friend, and never turned herhead nor spoke, until the door of her _boudoir_ had shut them in; thenshe turned and faced her companion, uttering as she did so a lowmirthless laugh. 

"Well!" she asked abruptly, "how do you like him?"

Constance bent a searching gaze upon her friend, and read her state ofmind with a woman's keen intuition. The tensely strung nerves, the dreadof this interview, the determination to have it over, and to bear herpart bravely; a proud and stubborn nature, battling with despair, andunspeakable heartache. She understood it all, and her own heart bledfor her friend. But, being a wise little woman, she held her pity inreserve, and replied, as if the question concerned a new dancing master:

"I don't like him at all, child; let's talk about something moreinteresting, " and she threw herself down upon a _fauteuil_, and tossedoff her hat; just as she had tossed it aside a hundred times, in thatsame pretty room. The simple action, brought a thrill of tenderness, andsad recollection, to the heart of Sybil. She seated herself beside herfriend, and her face lost a shade of its bitterness. 

"It's like a shadow of the old days, Con. , " she said sadly, "and thesubstance I can never have any more. But, you must let me talk, I feelas if I must talk, and you will let me say what I will, and ask menothing. Con. , you saw that--that creature down stairs? You saw him, butyou did not _hear_ him. "

She shuddered, and paused for an instant; but Constance did not speak, and so she continued:

"I had made up my mind never to speak of him to you, but the very thingI had dreaded has happened; you have met, and, in the generosity of yoursoul, for my sake, you have extended to him your hand; have openlyaccepted his acquaintance. Oh, Con. ! I could have struck him dead beforehe touched your hand. _He!_ Ah, there is a limit to my forbearance; hehas forced himself into my life to blight it; he has forced himself intomy family to be an added curse. But he shall not force himself upon myfriends. Con. , treat him with the disdain he deserves, else, he willforce his way into your very drawing room. Never, never, never, extendto him the courtesies due to an equal. He is not an equal, he is not aman at all; he is a fat, sleek, leering, ruminating animal, at his best;he is a wolf, a vampire, a devil, at other times; ignorant, vain, avaricious, gross. Rather than see him force himself upon you, as he hasforced himself upon us here, I will myself sever our friendship, I willnever see, never speak with you again. John Burrill shall find a limit, which even his brute force cannot pass. " She was growing more and moreexcited and a bright spot burned on each cheek. 

Constance was startled, but fully understanding the necessity forperfect coolness, now that Sybil's composure had almost given way, shenever attempted to interrupt the words that were but the overflow oflong pent up feelings; but sat quietly stroking one of Sybil's slenderhands, and becoming more amazed and mystified as she listened. 

"Sometimes I find myself wondering at the tenacity of my life, " went onSybil, more hurriedly and with increasing excitement. "Sometimes I feelmy strength leaving me, and think the battle is almost over; but somehowit is renewed, and I find myself growing strong instead of weak. Formonths I lived with my inevitable fate constantly before my eyes. I knewthat there was no escape; that what has transpired, must happen. I havesuffered tortures, passed nights without sleep, and days without food. Ihave grown a little paler, a little thinner, and a great deal wickeder, and that is all. I am strong, as strong as in the beginning, and yet, what am I but a galvanized corpse? I am dead to all that is worth livingfor. My one wish is to be free, and yet, Con. , do you know I have neveronce been tempted to self-destruction. "

[Illustration: "I have never once been tempted to self-destruction. "]

Constance Wardour sprang impetuously to her feet, and paced the lengthof the _boudoir_ again and again in perfect silence. The terrible weightof torment that was crushing Sybil's heart, and maddening her brain, seemed to rest, too, upon her, and weigh down her spirits; she wastortured with the sight of Sybil's misery, and the thought of her ownhelplessness. Could nothing be done? Struggling for an appearance ofcomposure, she paced to and fro, and at last, having mastered herfeelings, and arranged her thoughts, she resumed her seat beside Sybil, whose eyes had followed her movements with curiosity. 

"Sybil, listen;" she began with that clear, concise energy of mannerthat, in itself, inspired confidence. "If you do not wish me to make anyovertures of friendship, rest assured I shall make none. I at least amnot under the spell which this man seems to have thrown about you all. There, don't draw back, child, I have no more to say on this part of thesubject. I may ask a few questions, however, without treading onforbidden ground. You say John Burrill is avaricious; can he not bebought off?"

Sybil shook her head. 

"Not with the Wardour estate, " she replied, sadly. "Not with all ourfortunes united?"

"Cannot he be frightened then?"

"Frightened! You don't know what you are saying. "

"Then, I can think of one other way. He is a bad man; he must have led awicked life; can we not find something in his past, which will place himin our power? Can he not be driven into banishment, through fear ofjustice?"

Sybil turned her eyes full upon her friend; eyes dark with the shadow ofdespair, but unwavering in their sad firmness. 

"If that could be done, " she said, slowly. "The very day that witnessedhis downfall, would bring about the catastrophe I have sacrificed myselfto avert. Constance, say no more; we can do none of these things; thereis no help for me on this side of the grave. "

Constance looked once more at her friend; looked long and earnestlythen. 

"Sybil, " she cried, with swift resolution. "Do you know what you arebringing upon yourself? Do you want to go mad, and so be at the mercy ofJohn Burrill? It is what will come upon you if you don't throw off thistorpor. Your eyes are as dry as if tears were not meant to relieve theoverburdened heart. Let your tears flow; shake off this lethargy; battleroyally for your life; it is worth more than his; do not let him putyour reason to flight, and so conquer. Sybil! Sybil!"

The words ended in a sobbing cry, but Sybil only gazed dumbly, and thenlooked helplessly about her. 

"There, there, Conny, " she said at last, as if soothing a hurt child;"don't mind me. It's true my life is worth more than his, but--I can'tcry, I don't _feel_ like crying. "

"Then laugh, " cried Constance desperately; "laugh and defy yourtormentor; harden your heart if you must, but don't let it break. "

"I won't, " said Sybil, with quiet emphasis. "Now come and see mydiamonds, Con. "

She crossed the room as she spoke, bent over a dressing case, and cameback with a tray of sparkling newly set jewels. 

"Bah!" she said, as she dropped the glittering things one by one intoher friend's lap. "How I loved their glitter once, and how I envied youyour treasure of jewels; now you have lost your treasure, and I have nomore love for mine. "

Constance laughed oddly, as she bent to recover her hat from the floor, where it had lain during their interview. 

"Secret for secret, Sybil, " she said, with forced gaiety. "I have onelittle secret of mine own, and I am inclined to tell it you, because Iknow you can appreciate it, and can keep it; and I choose to have itkept. Bend down your head, dear, walls may have ears. Listen. "

Sybil bent her dark head, and Constance whispered a few short sentencesthat caused her to spring up erect and excited. 

"Constance! you are not jesting?"

"Honestly no. I have told you the truth, plain and unvarnished. "

Sybil stood as if transfixed with surprise, or some sudden inspiration. 

"Why, how amazed you look, dear; after all it's an old, old trick, andeasily played. Come, don't stare at me any longer; put away yourdiamonds and come below with me, my ponies must be dying withimpatience, and I am anxious to avoid our mutual foe, for I make commoncause with you, dear, and I have told you my secret, that we may be invery truth, fellow conspirators. Make my adieus to the family, and besure and come to me just as you used; if your ogre insists upon coming, trust me to freeze him into an earnest desire to be in a warmer and morecongenial place. Courage, _mon ami_, somehow we must win the battle. "

Sybil took the diamonds from her hands and put them away, with far morecare than she had displayed in bringing them forth; then she followedher friend from the room, closing and carefully locking the door behindher. 

Constance observed the unusual caution, but made no comment. Only whenmany days after she remembered that day she wondered how she could havebeen so stupidly blind. 

She effected her departure without being seen by Frank or Burrill, anddrove homeward, revolving in her mind various plots for the confusion ofthe latter, and plans for awakening Sybil from the dangerous melancholythat would surely unseat her reason. 

"If I could only move her to tears, " she murmured, "only break thatfrozen calm once. How can I touch, move, melt her? It must be done. " Andpondering this difficult task, she drove slowly on. 

"I wonder if I blundered in telling her my secret, " she mused. "I knowshe will keep it; and yet, somehow, I fear I was too hasty. One wouldthink it had grown too big for me to keep. But, pshaw! it's not a lifeand death matter, and I wanted to give a new impulse to that poorchild's thoughts. But I must try and cure myself of this impulsiveness, just as if it were not 'bred in the bone, ' for it was an impulse thatmade me whisper my secret to Sybil; and once, it has got me into serioustrouble. " And her brow darkened, as she thought of the feud thus raisedbetween herself and Doctor Heath. 

While she was thus pondering, Sybil Burrill had hurried back to her ownroom, locked herself in, and with hands clasped and working nervously, was pacing restlessly up and down, as Constance had done a littleearlier. 

"It's the only way, " she muttered between shut teeth, "the only possibleway. " And then she unlocked the dressing case, took out her jewels oncemore, handling them with greatest care. She spread them out before her, and resting her elbows on the dressing table, and her chin in the palmof one slender hand, gazed and thought with darkening brow andcompressed lips; and with now and then a shudder, and a startled glancebehind and about her. 

"It's the only way, " she repeated. "They have left me but one weapon, and it's _for my life_;" and the lips set themselves in hard lines, andthe dark eyes looked steely and resolute. What wild purpose was takingshape in the tortured brain of Sybil Burrill? planted there by theimpulsive revelation of Constance Wardour. 

While the lurid light yet shone from her eyes, there came a tap upon thedoor, and then Mrs. Lamotte's voice called:

"Sybil, are you there?"

"Yes, mamma. "

Sybil gathered up the jewels once more, hastily and putting them underlock and key, admitted her mother. Mrs. Lamotte was never ademonstrative parent. She glanced anxiously at her daughter, and thelook upon the pale face did not escape her eye; but she made no comment, only saying:

"I heard Constance drive away, and thought I should find you alone. Doyou feel equal to a drive, Sybil?"

Sybil hesitated, and then answered: "I think so mamma, if you wish to goout. "

"I have some shopping to do, and--it's best for us to go out a little. Don't you think so?"

"It's best that we keep up appearances, certainly mamma; for what elsedo we exist? Shall we take the honorable Mr. Burrill?"

Mrs. Lamotte shrugged her shoulders. "By no means, " she replied. "Mr. Burrill, if his feelings are too much hurt, shall drive with meto-morrow. It's an honor he has been thirsting for. "

"He has indeed, mamma; the creature is insatiable. "

Mrs. Lamotte arose with one of her cold smiles. 

"For the present let us ignore him, Sybil, " she said. "Make an elaboratedriving toilet, we want the admiration of W----, not its pity. " Andhaving thus uttered one article of her creed, Mrs. Lamotte swept away toprepare for the ordeal, for such that drive would be to those two proudwomen. 

No one could have guessed it, however, when an hour later, the elegantbarouche, drawn by two superb grays, rolled through the streets ofW----. Two richly dressed, handsome, high-bred, smiling women; that iswhat W---- saw, and all it saw; and light-hearted poverty looked, andenvied; little knowing the sorrow hidden underneath the silk and lace, and the misery that was masked in smiles. 

Meantime John Burrill, left to his own devices, found time drag heavily. Frank had abandoned him, as soon as it became known that Constance wasgone; and had abandoned himself to a fit of rage, when he became awarethat his black mare was also gone. Mr. Lamotte had driven to town withhis own light buggy; Sybil was gone, Evan was gone; even his statelymother-in-law was beyond the reach of his obnoxious pleasantries. 

He ordered up a bottle of wine, and drank it in the spirit of an illused man. Always, in his perfectly sober moments, John Burrill feltoppressed with a sense of the difference existing between himself andthe people among whom he had chosen to cast his lot. 

Not that he recognized, or admitted, his inferiority; had he notdemonstrated to the world, that he, John Burrill, sometime mill worker, and overseer, was a man of parts, a self-made man. 

When he had quaffed a bottle of wine, he began to feel oppressed in adifferent way. He was overburdened with a sense of his own genius, andin a very amiable frame of mind, altogether. In this mood, he joined thefamily at dinner; after which meal, a few glasses of brandy added fireto the smouldering element within him, and straightway he blazed forth:a gallant, a coxcomb. In this frame of mind, he always admired himselfexcessively, took stock of his burly legs and brawny shoulders, andsmiled sentimentally before the mirror, at his reflected face. 

There were people who called John Burrill a handsome man; and if one hada fancy for a round head, with depressions where bumps are desirable, and _vice versa_, and an animal sort of attractiveness of feature, consisting of a low, flat forehead, straight nose, large, full redlipped mouth, fair florid complexion, set off by a pair of dark blueeyes, that were devoid of any kindly expression, and hair, full beard, and moustache, of a reddish brown hue, coarse in quality, but plentifulin quantity, and curling closely; then we will admit that John Burrillwas handsome. Why not? We can see handsome bovines at any fat cattleshow. 

After this elation, came the fourth stage; a mixture of liquors as theevening advanced, and then John Burrill became jealous of his rights, careful of his dignity, crafty, quarrelsome, and difficult to manage. Next he became uproarious, then maudlin; then blind, beastly drunk, andutterly regardless where he laid him down, or fell down, to finish thenight, for his last stage usually dragged itself far into the smallhours. 

Gluttonous and meditative in the morning; beginning to swell with agrowing sense of importance about midday; amorous, obtrusive, andconsequential later; hilarious after dinner; quarrelsome before tea; anddown in the ditch before dawn. This was Burrill's notion of enjoyinglife in leisurely, gentlemanly fashion. And this was his daily routine, with variations to suit the occasion. 

But sober or drunk, morning, noon, or night, he never ceased to remindthe Lamottes that he was one of them, their equal; never forgot hispurpose, or allowed them to forget it, or him. He was their old man ofthe sea, their blight, their curse, and, they could never hope to shakehim off. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

IN OPEN MUTINY. 

Sybil sat alone in her boudoir. It was yet early in the evening, but, feeling little inclined to remain in the society of her family, whoassembled, with all due formality, in the drawing room on "at home"evenings, and most of their evenings were spent at home now, she hadwithdrawn, pleading fatigue after their drive. 

The night outside was balmy enough, but Sybil had ordered a light firein the grate, and she sat before it with all the rays from a fullyilluminated chandelier falling directly over her. 

She still wore the rich dress she had put on for her drive; andexcitement, exercise, _something_, had lent an unusual glow to hercheeks, and caused her dusky eyes to shine clear and steady, almost tooclear, too steadfast, was their gaze as it was fixed upon the glowingcoals; she had not looked so thoughtful, so self forgetful, yet selfabsorbed, since she came back to Mapleton, John Burrill's wife. 

Sitting thus, she heard a shambling step in the hall, and the heavyvoice of her husband, trolling out a snatch of song, caught up mostlikely in some bar-room. 

He was approaching her door, and quick as thought, she sprang from herchair, and noiselessly examined the fastenings, to assure herselfagainst him. Then, while her hand still rested on the door, his handstruck a huge blow upon the outside, and he called out gruffly:

"Sybil. "

No answer; she dared not move, lest the rustle of her silks shouldbetray her. "S-Sybil, I say, lemme in. " Still no reply, and John Burrillshook the door violently, and ground out an oath. 

Just then came the sound of another door further up the hall, hermother's door. It opened easily, and closed softly, and then quick, cat-like steps approached, and the voice of Jasper Lamotte, low andserene as usual, arrested the noise of the baffled applicant foradmittance. 

"Less noise, Burrill. " Sybil had not heard her father address him inthat tone of familiar command. "Sybil's not there. "

"Jes zif I didn't know better. "

"Nonsense, man; your wife is below with her mother at this moment. Nowstop that fuss, and shake yourself out. I've some private words for yourear. "

"Oh;" the man's voice dropped a tone lower; "quite a time since we've'ad many private words. 'Bout Sybil?"

"No, sir. " The tone was lower than before, and so stern that it causedthe listener to start. "It's about _your_ business and _mine_. "

"Oh! maybe you want to settle up and discharge me. Maybe you don't needme any more. "

"Curse you for a fool! You know your own value too well. Bully as youplease, where the rest are concerned, but drop your airs with me. Settlewith Sybil later, if you must; I want you now. "

Could it be Jasper Lamotte that uttered these words; rather, hissedthem? Sybil almost betrayed herself in her surprise; but the gasp thatshe could not quite stifle, was drowned by the voice of Burrill, saying:

"All right. I'll settle with Sybil later. "

And then she heard them enter her mother's room, and close the doorsoftly. 

For a full moment, Sybil Burrill stood transfixed; then the silken foldsthat she had instinctively gathered about her at the first, slowlyslipped from her hand; gradually the color that had fled from her cheekscame back, and burned brighter than before. She seemed to controlherself by a strong effort, and stood thinking--thinking. 

Only for a few moments; then she lifted her head with a gesture ofdefiance. Swiftly and noiselessly she moved under the chandelier, drewit down, and extinguished every light. Then softly, cautiously, sheopened her door and looked out, listened thus a moment, and then steppedboldly out, and, gliding to the head of the stairs, leaned down andlistened. 

From the drawing room there came to her ear the sound of the piano, lightly touched, and Frank's tenor humming over the bars of a Neapolitanboat song. 

Then she understood her father's mistake. Some unwonted impulse hadcaused her mother to seat herself at the piano, and accompany Frank, whodid not reckon piano playing among his accomplishments; and the thingwas so unusual, that Sybil was not surprised at her parent's mistake. 

Evan being absent, Jasper Lamotte naturally supposed that floordeserted, and therefore had not observed too much caution. 

Only a moment did Sybil listen, and then, gathering up the silken train, and crushing it into a soft mass under her hand, she crept noiselesslyas a cat to the door of her mother's room, bent down her head andlistened there. 

[Illustration: Only a moment did Sybil listen. ]

Five minutes, ten, and still they talked, and still Sybil stood, moveless and intent. Then, drawing back suddenly, she ran hurriedly downthe hall, and had gained the foot of the stairs before the sound of theopening door admonished her that she had escaped none too soon. 

In a moment she had entered the drawing room, and, with more of herolden gayety than they had seen in her manner for many long days, approached the loiterers at the piano. 

"Mother! mother! your hand is out of time!" and, in a moment, she haddrawn her astonished mother from the stool, and seated herself in thevacant place. 

"Sing, Frank, " she commanded, striking the keys with a crash that diedaway in discord. "We have been dull too long. "

When Jasper Lamotte and his model son-in-law entered the drawing room, they found Frank singing, Sybil accompanying him with dextrous fingers, and Mrs. Lamotte half resting near them, with veiled eyes, and herserenest cast of countenance. 

Casting one keen glance toward Burrill, which, being interpreted, meant, "I told you so, you fool, " Mr. Lamotte seated himself beside his wife. 

John Burrill, during his interview with his father-in-law, had become ashade more reasonable, and less inclined to think that, in order tovindicate his wounded sensibilities, he must "have it out with Sybil. "But his face still wore a surly look, and Frank, who was not overdelicate in such matters, looked askance at him, and then whispered toSybil, under cover of a softly played interlude that he "scented battleafar off. "

Sybil's only answer was a low, meaning laugh, and when he had finishedhis song, she played on and on and on. _Sonata, bravura, fantasia, rondo_; a crash and whirl--rapid, swift, sweet, brilliant, cold; nofeeling, no pathos. A fanciful person might have traced something ofexultation and defiance, in those dashing, rippling waves of music. 

Presently she stopped and turned to Frank. 

"What shall you do in the morning?" she asked, abruptly. 

Frank ran his fingers through his hair, after a fashion he muchaffected, and replied, slowly:

"Well, really! Nothing important. Going to ride to the office--meaningHeath's office, not the mills. Can I do anything for you, sis?"

"I was thinking, " began Sybil, as unconcernedly as if she did not knowthat she was about to astonish, more than she had already done, everyone of her listeners, "that it would be a fine morning for a canter;that is, if to-morrow should be a counterpart of to-day; and I am hungryto be in the saddle. "

Frank roused himself from his lazy position, and looked interested. Hetook a secret delight in annoying Burrill, when he could do it withouttoo much openness or display of _malice prepense_; and here was one ofhis opportunities. 

"Well, Sybil, you shan't be hungering in vain, " he replied, gallantly. "Name your hour, and your steed, and I will even sacrifice my last bestmorning nap, if need be. "

Sybil laughed lightly. 

"We will have a moderately seasonable breakfast, Frank, not to make yoursacrifice too great; and I will ride Gretchen. Poor thing! she will havealmost forgotten me now. "

"Then that is settled, " replied Frank, tranquilly, and glancingfurtively toward Burrill, who was beginning to wriggle uneasily in hischair. "Do you want to go anywhere in particular, sis?"

"No, unless you leave me for awhile at Wardour Place; I want to see someof Con. 's new dresses. You can ride into town and call for me later. "

"Ah! very nice arrangement; then _I_ can't call with you?"

"Decidedly not, sir. Who wants a man always about? They areconveniences, not blessings. "

"Oh, well, I'm extinguished. I promise to vanish from your gaze as soonas you are within the gates of the Princess of Wardour, and now I think, after so much vocal effort, and so much self-humiliation, I will go andsmoke. Adieu, sister mine; adieu mamma. Will you smoke, Burrill?"

"No, sir, thank you;" replied Burrill, with brief courtesy, and Frank, who knew beforehand what his answer would be, went toward his own room, smiling contentedly. 

"I wonder what's up with Sybil?" he said to himself. "She has waked updecidedly; but she has let herself in for a rumpus with Burrill. "

When he had gone Sybil arose, and seating herself near her mother, said:

"Mamma, you were saying something about going to the city yesterday;have you decided about it?"

Mrs. Lamotte, who had had no thought of going to the city, and who wasfully conscious that she had made no remarks on the subject, looked upwithout a ruffle upon her placid countenance and replied, like a wiseand good mother. 

"No, my child, I have not decided. "

"Then, when you decide to go, inform me beforehand, mamma. I think Ishould like to accompany you and do some shopping for myself. "

Here Burrill showed such marked symptoms of outbreak that Mr. Lamottewho, throughout the hour they had passed in the drawing room, had been aquiet but close observer, thought it wise to interpose, and artfullyattempted to avert the impending storm by saying:

"Now that sounds natural. I'm glad that you feel like shopping, Sybil, and like getting out more. Very glad, aren't you, Burrill?"

But Mr. Burrill had no notion of being thus appeased; instead of spikinga gun Jasper Lamotte had opened a battery. 

"I'm delighted to hear that Mrs. Burrill has stopped moping, " he saidgruffly; "but I'll be hanged if I'm glad to hear myself left out of allthe programmes, and I'll be cussed if I'm going to put up with it, either, " and Mr. Burrill, being full in more senses than one, arose andpaced the room with more fierceness than regularity. 

Mr. Lamotte forgot himself so far as to utter an angry imprecationbetween his shut teeth, and to wrinkle his forehead into a dark frown. Mrs. Lamotte allowed a shade of contempt to creep about her lips as sheturned her eyes upon her daughter, but Sybil looked not one whitdisconcerted. 

"I've got something to say about my wife, " went on Mr. Burrill, "and I'mblessed if I don't say it. "

What had come over Sybil? Heretofore she would in any way, in every way, have avoided an encounter with him; she would have quitted the field orhave remained deaf as a post; but now, "Say it, then, Mr. Burrill, sayit, by all means, here and now, " she retorted in the coolest voiceimaginable. 

And Mr. Burrill did say it. 

"I've had enough of being made a fool of, Mrs. Sybil Burrill; I've hadenough of being a carpet under your feet, and nothing better. I'm yourequal, and anybody's equal, that's what _I_ am, and I'm going to have_my_ rights. It's very well for you to announce that you're going hereand going there, Mrs. Burrill; but let me tell you that you go _nowhere_except John Burrill goes with you, that's settled. "

Sybil laughed scornfully. 

"Not quite so fast, Mr. Burrill, just stand still one moment, if you_can_ stand still, which I doubt. You say you will accompany me whereverI go; I say you may accompany me wherever people will tolerate you, nowhere else. You are not the man to force into a gentleman's parlor;you would disgrace his kitchen, his stable. The streets are free to all, you can accompany me in my drives; the churches are open to the vilest, you can go with me there; but into the houses of my friends you _shallnot_ go; I will not so abuse friendship. You have counted upon me togain you _entrée_ to Wardour and to a dozen houses, the thresholds ofwhich you will never cross. If you are not satisfied with this, then youmust be suited with less. I will not be seen with you at all. "

Again Jasper Lamotte, vexed and alarmed for the _denouement_, interposed; knowing she was striking at Burrill's chief weakness:

"But Sybil, Miss Wardour, here in her meetings with Burrill, tacitlyrecognized his right to call. "

She turned upon him swiftly. 

"You know why she did it, sir; it is useless to discuss the question. You may calm Mr. Burrill in any way you please, or can. You know theterms on which he became my husband. He will continue my husband on myown terms. He shall not cross the threshold of Wardour, protected by mypresence, and without it the door would close in his face. If Mr. Burrill does not like my terms, let him say so. _It is not in his poweror yours to alter my decision. _" And Sybil once more gathered togetherher silken skirts, lest in passing they should brush the now collapsedMr. Burrill, and swept from the room. 

[Illustration: "It is not in his power or yours to alter my decision. "]

Mr. Lamotte turned to his wife. 

"You must talk with that girl, " he said, savagely, "what the devil ailsyou all?"

Mrs. Lamotte arose and faced him. 

"I should be wasting my breath, " she replied, looking him straight inthe eye. "You have tried that girl a little too far, Mr. Lamotte, " andshe followed after her daughter. 

A roar, not unlike the bellow of a bull, recalled Mr. Lamotte to thebusiness of the moment. John Burrill, having recovered from hismomentary stupor of astonishment, was dancing an improvised, andunsteady _can can_, among the chairs and tables, beating the air withhis huge fists, and howling with rage. 

Seeing this, Mr. Lamotte did first, a very natural thing; he uttered astring of oaths, "not loud, but deep, " and next, a very sensible thing;he rang for brandy and hot water. 

And now the battle is in Mr. Lamotte's hands, why need we linger. Brandyhot will always conquer a John Burrill. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE PLAY GOES ON. 

When Sybil Burrill, after uttering her defiance in the face of fatherand husband, had swept from the room, closely followed by her mother, another form moved away from the immediate vicinity of the mostaccessible drawing-room window, --the form of Evan Lamotte. Crouching, creeping, shivering, cursing, he made his way to the spot where he hadleft Frank's horse, and led it toward the stables. 

Anything but sober when he commenced his vigil underneath thedrawing-room windows, he had been shocked into sobriety by his sister'sviolence, and his own rage against her tormentors. Growing more and moresober, and more and more sullen, he stabled the ill-used thoroughbredwith his own hands, and then, avoiding alike both servants and family, he crept into the house, and up to his own room. 

In the morning he awoke betimes, and arose promptly; he had come to knowthe habits of his father and John Burrill, and he had good reason forknowing them, having of late made their movements his study. 

Burrill would sleep until nine o'clock; he always did after a debauch, and he, Evan, had recently formed a habit of appearing late at breakfastalso. From his room he kept up a surveillance over all the householdafter a method invented by himself. 

He knew when his stately mother swept down to the breakfast room, followed soon after by his father. 

The family all aimed to breakfast before the obnoxious Burrill had cometo his waking time, and so were rid of him for one meal, all but Evan. He and his brother-in-law breakfasted together later, and in the mostamiable manner. After a time he heard Frank go down, and the ring of hisheels assured Evan that he was equipped for the saddle. 

A little later, and, from his post at his front window, screened by theflowing curtains, Evan saw the horses led around, saw Sybil come downthe steps in her trailing, dark cloth habit, saw her spring lightly tothe saddle, and heard a mocking laugh ring out, in response to somesally from Frank, as they cantered away. 

[Illustration: Evan saw Sybil and Frank canter away. ]

"Act one in the insurrection, " said Evan, as he turned away from thewindow. "Now let _me_ prepare for action. " His preparations were few andsimple; he removed his boots and coat, and crept out, and softly alongthe hall until he reached Burrill's door. Here he paused, to assurehimself that he was not observed, and then softly tried the door; as hehad expected, it opened without resistance, for Burrill had beenescorted to bed, by his faithful father-in-law, in a state ofmellowness, that precluded all thought for the night, or the dangers itmight bring forth. Evan entered, cautiously closing the door as he hadfound it, and approached the bed. Its occupant was sleeping heavily, andbreathing melodiously. Satisfied on this point, Evan opened a commodiouswardrobe near the bed, threw down some clothing, spread it out smoothly, and then stepping within, he drew the doors together, fastening them bya hook of his own contrivance, on the inside; for Evan had made thiswardrobe do service before. Then he laid himself down as comfortably aspossible, and applied his eye to some small holes punctured in the darkwood, and quite invisible to casual outside observation. 

He had began to grow restless in his hiding-place, and fiercelydisgusted with the sleeper's monotonously musical whistle, when hiswaiting was rewarded. The door once again opened cautiously, and thistime, Jasper Lamotte entered. He looked carefully about him, thenclosing and locking the door, he approached the sleeper. 

"I knew it, " thought Evan; "the fox will catch the wolf napping, andnail him before he can fortify himself with a morning dram. "

It took some time to arouse the sleeper, but Jasper Lamotte was equal tothe occasion; this not being his first morning interview with hisson-in-law; and, after a little, John Burrill was sufficiently awake toscramble through with a hasty toilet, talking as he dressed. 

"Business is getting urgent, " he grumbled, thrusting a huge foot into agorgeously decorated slipper. "I'd rather talk after breakfast. "

"Pshaw, you are always drunk enough to be unreasonable before noon. Turnsome cold water upon your head and be ready to attend to what I have tosay. "

What he had to say took a long time in the telling, for it was a long, long hour before the conference broke up, and the two men left the roomtogether. 

Then the doors of the wardrobe opened slowly, and a pale, pinched facelooked forth; following the face came the body of Evan Lamotte, shakenas if with an ague. Mechanically he closed the wardrobe, and staggeredrather than walked from the room. Once more within his own room helocked the door with an unsteady hand, and then threw himself headlongupon the bed, uttering groan after groan, as if in pain. 

After a time he arose from the bed, still looking as if he had seen aghost, and, going to a desk, opened it, and took therefrom a capaciousdrinking flask; raising it to his lips he drained half its contents, andthe stimulant acting upon overstrained nerves, seemed to restore ratherthan to intoxicate. 

"At last, " he muttered to himself, "I am at the bottom of the mystery, and--I am powerless. " Then, like his sister on the previous day, hemuttered, "There is but one way--only one--and _it must be done_!" Thenthrowing himself once more upon the bed, he moaned:

"Oh, that I, the accursed of the family, heretofore, should live tobe--but pshaw! it is for Sybil I care. But--for to-day let them all keepout of my sight--I could not see them and hold my peace. "

He pocketed the half empty flask, and made his way from the house to beseen by none at Mapleton for the next twenty-four hours. 

After that morning interview with his father-in-law, John Burrillblusters less for a few days, and makes himself less disagreeable to theladies. He accepts the situation, or seems to; he rides out on one ortwo sunny afternoons with Mrs. Lamotte and Sybil, and on one of theseoccasions they meet Constance Wardour, driving with her aunt. Theheiress of Wardour smiles gayly and kisses the tips of her fingers tothe ladies, but there is no chance for him--he might be the footman forall Constance seems to see or know to the contrary. This happens in athoroughfare where they are more than likely to have been observed, andJohn Burrill chafes inwardly, and begins to ponder how he can, in theface of all the Lamottes, gain a recognition from Constance Wardour. Inhis sober moments this becomes a haunting thought; in his tipsy ones itgrows to be a mania. 

One day, during this lull in the family siege, Sybil and her mothervisit the city, doing a mountain of shopping, and returning the nextday. Sybil keeps on as she began, on the night when she listened to herfather and husband, while they held council in her mother's room. She isfull of energy and nervous excitement always, and the old stupor ofdullness, and apathetic killing of time, never once returns. But Mrs. Lamotte likes this last state not much better than the first; neitherdoes Constance; but they say nothing, for the reason that it would beuseless, as they know too well. Sybil goes out oftener, sits with thefamily more, and seems like one waiting anxiously for a long expectedevent. 

John Burrill is a little disturbed at Sybil's visit to the city. Heknows that she will go and come as she pleases there, unquestioned, and, if she choose, unattended by her mother. And, without knowing why, hefeels inclined to rebel; but he is still under the spell of that morninginterview, and so holds his peace. 

Evan, too, under the same uncanny spell, goes about more morose thanusual, more silent than usual, more sarcastic than usual. More and more, too, he attaches himself to John Burrill; they drink together in thedining room, and then repair together to "Old Forty Rods, " or some otherfavorite haunt. Together they seek for pleasure in the haunts of thevilest, Evan continually playing upon the vanity and credulity inBurrill's nature, to push him forward as the leader in all theirdebauches, the master spirit, the _bon vivant, par excellence_. 

And Burrill goes on and on, down and down. He begins to confide all hismaudlin woes to Evan, and that young man is ever ready with sympathy andadvice that is not calculated to make Jasper Lamotte's position, as beartrainer, a sinecure. 

But Evan contrives to leave Sybil tolerably free from this nuisance fora time; but only for a time. John Burrill has other advisers, otherexhorters, other spurs that urge him on to his own downfall. 

Burrill begins to throw himself in the way of Constance Wardour; to meether carriage here and there; to stand near by as she goes and comes onher shopping excursions; to drive past Wardour Place alone and often. 

At first, this only amuses Miss Wardour; then it annoys her; then, whenshe finds her walks in the grounds so often overlooked by the slowlypassing Burrill, she begins to mark his maneuvers with a growingvexation. 

But Burrill perseveres, and the more nearly he approaches the fourthstage of his intoxication, the more open becomes his stare, the morepatent his growing admiration. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

JOHN BURRILL, PLEBEIAN. 

It is night, late and lowering; especially gloomy in that quarter ofW---- where loom the great ugly rows of tenements that are inhabited bythe factory toilers; for the gloom and smoke of the great engines broodover the roofs night and day, and the dust and cinders could only bemade noticeable by their absence. 

In a small cottage, at the end of a row of larger houses, a woman isbusy clearing away the fragments of a none too bountiful supper. A smallwoman, with a sour visage, and not one ounce of flesh on her person, that is not absolutely needed to screen from mortal gaze a bone. A womanwith a long, sharp nose, two bright, ferret-like brown eyes, and arasping voice, that seems to have worn itself thin asking hard questionsof Providence, from sunrise till dark. 

The table has been spread for two, but the second party at the banquet, a gamin son aged seven, has swallowed his own and all he could get ofhis mother's share, and betakened himself to the streets, night thoughit be. 

The woman moves about, now and then muttering to herself as she works. The room is shabbily furnished, and not over neat, for its mistressspends her days in the great mill hard by, and housekeeping has becomea secondary matter. Only the needs of life find their demands honored inthis part of W----. Too often needs get choked and die of the smoke andthe cinders. 

It is late, for the woman has been doing extra work; it is stormy, too, blustering and spattering rain. Yet she pauses occasionally and listensto a passing footfall, as though she expected a visitor. 

At last, when the final touch has made the room as tidy as it ever is, or as she thinks it need be, there comes a shuffling of feet outside, and a tremendous thump on the rickety door. After which, as if he wassufficiently heralded, in comes a man, a big man, muffled to the eyes ina huge coat, which he slowly draws down and draws off, disclosing to thehalf curious, half contemptuous gaze of the woman the auburn locks andhighly tinted countenance of Mr. John Burrill. 

"So, " she says, in her shrillest voice, "It's _you_, is it? It seems oneis never to be rid of you at any price. "

"Yes, it's me--all of me, " the man replies, as if confirming a doubtfulstatement. "Why, now; you act as if you didn't expect me. "

"And no more I did, " says the woman sullenly and most untruthfully. "It's a wonder to me that you can't stay away from here, after allthat's come and gone. "

"Well, I can't, " he retorts, amiably rubbing his hands together. "Anyhow, I won't, which means about the same thing. Where's the littleduffer?"

"He's where you were at his age, I expect, " she replies grimly. 

"Well, and if he only keeps on as I have, until he gets up to my presentage, he won't be in a bad boat, eh, Mrs. Burrill the first. "

"He's got too much of his mother's grit to be where _you_ are, JohnBurrill, livin' a lackey among people that despise you because you havegot a hand on 'em somewhere. I want to know if you don't think they willchoke you off some day when they are done using you?"

John Burrill seated himself astride a low wooden chair, and propellingit and himself forward by a movement of the feet and a "hitch" of theshoulders, he leaned across the chair back in his most facetious manner, and addressed her with severe eloquence. 

"Look here, Mrs. Burrill number one, don't you take advantage of yourposition, and ride the high horse too free. It's something to 'ave beenMrs. J. Burrill once, I'll admit; but don't let it elevate you too much. You ain't quite so handsome as the present Mrs. Burrill, neither are youso young, consequently you don't show off so well in a tantrum. Now thepresent Mrs. Burrill--"

"Oh, then she does have tantrums, the present Mrs. Burrill, " sneered thewoman, fairly quivering with suppressed rage. "One would think she wouldbe so proud of you that she could excuse all your little faults. Brookssays that they all talk French up there, so that you can't wring intotheir confabs, John. "

"Does he?" remarked Burrill, quietly, but with an ominous gleam in hisugly eyes. "Brooks must be careful of that tongue of his. You mayreckon that they all stop their French when _I_ begin to talk. Now, don't be disagreeable, Nance; it ain't every man that can take a rise inthe world like me, and _I_ don't put on airs, and hold myself above myold friends. Do you think that every man could step into such a familyas _I_ belong to, Mrs. Burrill? No one can say that John Burrill's acommon fellow after that feat. "

"No, but a great many can say that John Burrill's a mean fellow, toomean to walk over. Do you think the men as you worked along side of, anddrank and supped with, don't know what you are, John Burrill! Do youthink that they don't all know that your outrageous vanity has made afool of you? Chance threw into your hands a secret of the Lamottes; youneed not stare, we ain't fools down here at the factories. Maybe I knowwhat that secret is, and maybe I don't. It's no matter. I know more ofyour doings than you give me credit for, John Burrill. Now, what mustyou do? Blackmail would have satisfied a sensible man; but straightwayyou are seized with the idea that you were born to be a gentleman. You!Then you form your plan; and you force, by means of the power in yourhands, that beautiful young lady to marry you. "

"Seems to me, " interrupts the man who has been listening quitecontentedly, "that you are getting along too fast with your story. "

"Yes, I am too fast. When you first hatched out this plan, you came tome and put a pistol to my head, and swore that if I didn't apply for adivorce from you at once, you would blow my brains out. I had sworemore than once to have a divorce; and Lord knows I had cause enough;what, with the drunkenness and the beatings, and the idleness, and thenight prowlin', and all the rest; but I never expected that. "

The woman paused for a moment, and then resumed her tirade of mixedeloquence and bad grammar. 

"I didn't expect to be drove into the divorce court at the point of apistol, but that's how it ended, and you was free to torment MissLamotte, poor young thing! Don't you let yourself think that I envied_her_! Lord knows I had had enough of you, and your meanness, but Ipitied her; and if I had knocked out your brains, as I've been temptedto do a dozen times, when you have rolled in here blind drunk, I'd havedone her a good turn, and myself too. The time was when Nance Fergus wasyour equal, and more too; but you left England with the notion that hereyou would be the equal of anybody, and you've never got clear of theidea. I've tried to make you understand that there's a coarse breed offolks, same's there is of dogs, and that you are of a mighty coarsebreed. I've lived out with gentle folks over the water, and they werenone of your sort. But, go on John Burrill, the low women you are sofond of, and the girls at the factory, have called you good lookin', until your head is turned with vanity. You have got yourself in amongthe upper class, no matter how, and I suppose you expect your good looksto do the rest for you. I mind once when I was at service inHerefordshire, the Squire had a fine young beast in his cattle yard, black an' sleek, an' handsome to look at, and the young ladies came downfrom the big house and looked at it through the fence, and called it a'beautiful creature, ' but all the same they led it away to the slaughterhouse with a ring in its nose, and the young ladies dined off it with arelish. "

John Burrill stroked his nasal organ fondly, as if discerning someconnection between that protuberance and the aforementioned ring; but hemade no attempt to interrupt her. 

"You was bad enough in England, John Burrill; what with your poachingand your other misdeeds, and sorry was the day when I left a good placeto come away from the country with you, because it was gettin' too hotfor you to stay there. You couldn't get along without me then; and youcan't get along now it seems, for all your fine feathers, without youcome here sometimes to brag of your exploits, and pretend you arelookin' after the boy. "

"Nance, " said Burrill, "you're a fine old bird! 'Ow I'd like to set youat my old father-in-law, blarst him, when he rides it too roughsometimes, and, what a sociable little discourse you could lay down forthe ladies too, Nance; but, are you about done? You've been clean overthe old ground, seems to me, tho' I may have dozed a little here andthere. Have you been over the old business, and brought me over thewater, by the nape of the neck; because, if you haven't--no, I see youhave not, so here's to you, Nance, spin on;" and he took from hispocket a black bottle, and drank a mighty draught therefrom. 

"No, I'm _not_ done, " screamed the woman. "You've come here to-night, asyou have before, for a purpose; one would think that such a finegentleman could find better society, but it seems you can't. You nevercome here for nothing; you never come for any good; you want something?What is it?"

He laughed a low, hard laugh. 

"Yes, " he said, taking another pull at the black bottle; "I wantsomething. "

"Umph! I thought so. "

"I want to tell you, " here he arose, and dropping his careless manner, laid a threatening hand upon her arm. "I want to tell you, NanceBurrill, that you have got to bridle that tongue of yours; d'yeunderstand?"

She shook off his hand, and retired a few paces eyeing him closely asshe said:

"Oh! I thought so. Something has scared ye already. "

"No, I'm not scared; that thing can't be done by you, Nance; but youhave been blowing too much among the factory people, and I won't haveit. "

"Won't have what?"

"Won't have any more of this talk about going to my wife with storiesabout me. "

"Who said I threatened?"

"No matter, you don't do much that I don't hear of, so mind your eye, Nance. As for the women at the bend, you let them alone, and keep yourtongue between your teeth. "

"Oh! I will; one can't blame you for seeking the society of your equals, after the snubbing you must get from your betters up there. But thatdon't satisfy you; you must drag that poor fellow, Evan Lamotte, intotheir den; as if he were not wild enough, before you came where youcould reach him. "

John Burrill took another pull at the black bottle. 

"Evan's a good fellow, " he said somewhat thickly. "He knows enough toappreciate a man like me, and we both have larks, now let me tell you. "

"Well, have your larks; but don't sit and drink yourself blind before myvery eyes. Why don't you go?"

"Cause I don't want'er--, " growing more and more mellow, as the liquorwent fuming to his head, already pretty heavily loaded with brandy andwine. "Where's the little rooster, I tell yer. "

"In the streets, and he's too much like his father to ever come home, 'till he's gone after, and dragged in. "

"Well, go and drag him in then, I'm goin' ter see 'im. "

"I won't!" shrieked the woman, now fairly beside herself with rage; "gohome to your lady wife, and take her my compliments; tell her that Iturned you out. "

John Burrill staggered to his feet, uttering a brutal oath. 

"You'll turn me out, will you? You say _won't_ to me; you are forgettingmy training, Mrs. Nance; I'll teach you that John Burrill's yer masteryet; go for the boy. "

But the woman did not stir. 

"You won't, eh!" clutching her fiercely, and shaking her violently, "nowwill you?"

"No, you brute. "

"Then, take that, and that, and that!"

[Illustration: "Then take that, and that. "]

A rain of swift blows; a shriek ringing out on the stillness of thenight; then a swift step, the door dashed in, and John Burrill ismeasuring his length upon the bare floor. 

The woman reels, as the clutch of the miscreant loosens from her arm, but recovers herself and turns a bruised face toward the timelyintruder. It is Clifford Heath. 

"Are you badly hurt?" he asks, anxiously. 

She lifts a hand to her poor bruised face, and aching head, and thensinking into a chair says, wearily:

"It's nothing--for me. Look out, sir!"

This last was an exclamation of warning, John Burrill had staggered tohis feet, and was aiming an unsteady blow at the averted head of DoctorHeath. 

The latter turned swiftly, comprehending the situation at a glance, andonce more felled the brute to the floor. 

By this time others had appeared upon the scene, --neighbors, roused bythe cry of the woman. 

Doctor Heath bent again to examine her face. He had scarcely observedthe features of the man he had just knocked down; and he now asked:

"Is--this man you husband, madam?"

The woman reddened under her bruises. 

"He _was_ my husband, " she said, bitterly. "He is--John Burrill. "

Clifford Heath started back, thinking, first of all, of Sybil, andrealizing that there must be no scandal, that could be avoided, for hersake. He had never seen Burrill, save at a distance, but had heard, ashad every one in W----, of his divorced wife. 

Turning to one of the neighbors, he said: "I was passing on my way homefrom Mrs. Brown's, when I heard this alarm. I think, good people, thatwe had better let this fellow go away quietly, and attend to this woman. Her face will be badly swollen by and by. " Then he turned once moretoward Burrill. 

Once more the miscreant was struggling to his feet, and at a commandfrom Doctor Heath, he hastened his efforts. Hitherto, he had had only avision of a pair of flashing dark eyes, and an arm that shot outswiftly, and straight home. 

Now, however, as he gained an erect posture, and turned a threateninglook upon his assailant, the onlookers, who all knew him, and all hatedand feared him, saw a sudden and surprising transformation. The red alldied out of his face, the eyes seemed starting from their sockets, thelower jaw dropped abjectly and suddenly, and, with a yell of terror, John Burrill lowered his head and dashed from the house, as if pursuedby a legion of spectres. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

NANCE BURRILL'S WARNING. 

The sudden and surprising exit of Burrill caused, for a moment, a stayof proceedings, and left the group, so rapidly gathered in NanceBurrill's kitchen, standing _en tableaux_, for a full minute. 

Dr. Heath was the first to recover from his surprise, and as he took inthe absurdity of the scene, he uttered a low laugh, and turned once moretoward the woman, Nance, who seemed to have lost herself in a prolongedstare. 

"Your persecutor does not like my looks, apparently, " he said, at thesame time taking from his pocket a small medicine case. "Or was it someof these good friends that put him to flight?" And he glanced at thegroup gathered near the door. 

A woman with a child in her arms, and her husband with two more incharge, at her heels; a family group to the rescue; two or three oldwomen, of course; and a man with a slouching gait, a shock of unruly redhair, and a face very much freckled across the cheek bones, and very redabout the nose; the eyes, too, had an uncanny squint, as if nature hadgiven up her task too soon and left him to survey the world through thenarrow slits. This man had always an air of being profoundly interestedin the smallest affairs of life, perhaps because the slits through whichhe gazed magnified the objects gazed upon, and he peered about him nowwith profoundest solicitude. This was Watt Brooks, a mechanic, andhanger-on about the mills, where he did an occasional bit of odd work, and employed the balance of his time in gossiping among the women, orlounging at the drinking saloons, talking a great deal about the wrongsof the working classes, and winning to himself some friends from acertain turbulent class who listened admiringly to his loud, communisticoratory. 

Brooks had not been long in W----, but he had made rapid headway amongthat class who, having little or nothing to love or to fear, are notslow to relieve the monotony of very bare existence by appropriating tothemselves the friendship of every hail fellow whom chance throws intheir way. 

Accordingly Brooks had become a sort of oracle among the dwellers in"Mill avenue, " as the street was facetiously called, and he was readyfor any dish of gossip, not infrequently making himself conspicuous as ateller of news; he was faithful in gathering up and retailing smallitems among such ladies of the "avenue" as, being exempted from millwork because of family cares, had time and inclination, and this latterwas seldom lacking, to chatter with him about the latest mishap, or theone that was bound to occur soon. 

Prominent among the gossips of Mill avenue was that much abused matronMrs. John Burrill number one, and she had not been slow to discover theadvantages of possessing such an acquaintance as Mr. Brooks; accordinglythey gravitated toward each other by mutual attraction, and it was quitea common thing for Brooks to drop in and pass an evening hour in thesociety of Mrs. Burrill, sometimes even taking a cup of tea at the tableof the lone woman on a Sunday afternoon. 

As Doctor Heath laid his case upon the small pine table, and prepared todeal out a soothing lotion for the bruised Mrs. Burrill, Brooks advancedcourageously, supported on either hand by an anxious old lady, and thechorus commenced. 

"It warn't _us_ as scared him out, sir, " said Brooks, positively. "He'sseen all o' us, first and last. Maybe as he's had cause for remembering_you_, sir?" and Brooks peered anxiously at the doctor, as if hoping fora prompt confirmation of this shrewd guess. 

"Sure, an' it was a guilty conscience, if ever I seen one, as made thebrute beast run like that, from the sight of the doctor, " chimed infirst old lady, who quarreled with her "old man" on principle, andseldom came out second best. "Faith, an' the murtherin' wretch has halfkilled ye, Burrill, dear. "

"I was that scart with the screamin', " said the mother of three, "that Inearly let the baby fall a-runnin' here. "

And then they all gathered around Mrs. Burrill, and talked vigorously, and all together, while Brooks, hovering near the doctor, pursued hisinvestigation. 

"A bad lot, that Burrill, sir. I've seen him, frequent; and so he's hadoccasion to know you, sir?"

"No, my good fellow; I never had the honor of meeting Mr. John Burrillbefore, " replied Doctor Heath, smiling at the man's pertinacity. 

"Now, I want to know, " exclaimed Brooks, in accents of real distress, "then what _could_ have set him off like that?"

"I suppose we were getting too many for him, " replied the doctor, easily. 

"Not a bit of it, sir. Burrill ain't no coward, especially when he's inliquor; and he and me's on good enough terms, too; though, of course, "said Brooks, recollecting himself, and glancing anxiously at thereclining figure of the injured one, "of course, I would never stand byand see a lady struck down, sir. "

"Manifestly not, " replied the doctor, drily. "Then, as he would not fearyou, and could not fear me, he must have been in the first stages of'snake seeing. '"

"It's my opinion, he took you for somebody else, as he has reasons to beafraid of, " said one of the women, with an emphatic nod. 

But here the voice of the heroine of the occasion rose high above therest. 

"John Burrill wasn't so drunk as to run away from a man he never saw, orto see crooked, " she said, fiercely. "I saw the look on his face, blinded tho' I was, and he's afraid of _you_, Doctor Heath. I don't knowwhy. There's some secrets in John Burrill's life that I don't know, andthere's more that I wish I didn't know; but here, or somewhere else, hehas known you, sir. Perhaps only by sight; but he's afraid of you, that's certain. "

There was no reply from Doctor Heath; he was busy over his medicinecase. He prepared a lotion, to be applied to the bruises, and asedative, to be applied to the nerves of the patient, who was beginningto recover herself in a measure, and launched out into a torrent ofinvective against the author of her trouble; after which she rushed intoa wild recital of her wrongs, beginning at the time when she left a goodplace in England, to follow the fortunes of John Burrill, and runningwith glib tongue over the entire gamut of her trials since. And all ofthis, although it was far from new to the dwellers of Mill Avenue, waslistened to, by them, with absorbed interest, and the properaccompaniment of ejaculations, at the proper places. During thisdiscourse, to which Brooks listened with evidences of liveliestinterest, Doctor Heath remained seemingly inattentive, waiting for alull in the storm; when it came at last, he ascertained as briefly aspossible, who among the women would remain, and pass the night with Mrs. Burrill; gave her direction, as to the use she was to make of themedicines he had prepared, and buttoned his coat about him, preparatoryto departure. 

As his hand was upon the latch, the voice of his patient arrested him. 

"Doctor, " she said, earnestly. "It wouldn't be gratitude in me to letyou go away without a word of warning. I don't want to pry into youraffairs, but let me tell you this: You are not done with John Burrill;you took him by surprise to-night; but, I'll wager he is over his scareby now, and he is plotting how he can get another sight at you, unbeknown to yourself; and, if he has reason to be afraid of you, thenlook out for him; _you_ have reasons for being afraid too. "

Doctor Heath hesitated a moment, and a shade of annoyance crossed hisface, then he said in his usual careless tone:

"Give yourself no uneasiness about this matter, madam; I never saw thescoundrel before, and he was simply afraid of my fist. However, if heever should cross my path, be assured I shall know how to dispose ofhim;" and Clifford Heath bowed and went out into the night, littlerecking that he had left his life in the hands of five old women. 

In a short time, Brooks arose and shuffled out, and then the tongueswere once more loosened, the husband attendant had been ordered homewith his two charges, and the chief subject of their converse was DoctorHeath, and the strange influence he had exerted upon John Burrill; and afruitful theme they found it. 

Meantime, John Burrill, who had fled straight on down the gloomy lengthof Mill avenue, found himself, and his senses, together, close under theshadow of one of the huge factories, and at the river's very edge. 

Here, breathless and bespattered, he sat down upon a flat stone torecover himself, and review the situation. 

"Curse the man, " he muttered. "I would not have made such a fool ofmyself for a gold mine; but I couldn't have helped it for two, " headded, after a moment's reflection, "if it's the man I supposed it tobe! But it can't be! It is not. "

He was by this time, comparatively sober, and he arose to his feet, finally, feeling his courage returning, but still deep in thought. 

"Hang the luck, " he muttered, kicking viciously at a loose stone. "Ifthat's the man I fear, then Jasper Lamotte would be glad to know him. Why!" starting suddenly erect, "I can find out, and I will. I must, formy own safety, " and John Burrill faced about and retraced his steps. 

Cautiously this time, he went over the ground, heeding where he set hisfoot, lest some misstep should betray his presence in Mill avenue still;more and more cautiously as he neared the house from which he had solately fled. 

Closer and closer he crept, until at last he was under the window of thekitchen, and here he crouched, listening. He heard the mingled confusionof voices, then the firm tones of Clifford Heath, clear above the rest. Hearing this, he moved quickly away, for he was in instant danger ofdetection, should the door open suddenly, as it might at any moment. 

He crossed the street and standing under the shadow of a small tenement, waited. 

It was not long before the door opened, and the light from within showedhim the tall form of Clifford Heath, clearly outlined against thedarkness. 

Out strode Heath, walking so rapidly, that the not yet quite sober, JohnBurrill, found himself compelled to exercise care, and expend somebreath, in keeping him within sight. 

On and on, went the pursued and the pursuer, and presently, out of thedarkness, came a third form, gliding shadow-like; as if every step ofthe way were too familiar to render caution necessary; this third form, drew nearer and nearer to Burrill, who, all unconscious of itsproximity, labored on after Doctor Heath. 

Straight to his own cottage went the doubly shadowed young physician; heopened the door with a latch key, and the followers lost him in thedarkness of the unlighted vestibule. Presently, however, a light wasseen to glimmer through the partially closed blinds, and then JohnBurrill crept cautiously nearer, and feeling his way carefully, lestsome obstacle at his feet should cause him to stumble; he gained thewindow, pressed his face close to the shutters and peered through. 

Clifford Heath was pacing up and down his cosy sitting room, seeminglylost in perplexed thought, and, as again and again his face was turnedto the light, the watcher studied it closely; finally he seemedsatisfied with his scrutiny, for he turned away and groped back to thestreet once more. 

"It's the other one, " he muttered, drawing a long breath of relief. "Imight have known it from the first; so he is the young Doctor they tellof! Well, it's a rum game that brings him here, and it's certain hedon't want to be known. He can't know me, and--Jove, I'd like to pay himfor the hits he gave me, " and he fell to pondering as he turned hissteps, not the way he had come, nor yet toward Mapleton, but in thedirection of "Old Forty Rods. " But long before he reached hisdestination, the creeping, stealthy shadow, had ceased to follow, andhad vanished down a side street. 

[Illustration: "It's the other one, " he muttered. ]

A few lights were glimmering, here and there, as he turned down the, notvery elegant, street on which was located the haven of "Forty Rods, " andwhen he was within a block of the place, a man, coming suddenly aroundthe corner, ran square against him. 

Burrill uttered an oath, as he with difficulty regained his balance, butthe new-comer called out in a voice, a little unsteady from some cause:

"Helloa! B--Burrill, that yer, ole feller? Didn't mean ter knock againstyer, give-ye my word I didn'. Give us a tiss, ole man, an' come-long toForty's!"

"Brooks, " said Burrill, taking him sociably by the arm, and facingtoward the saloon in question. "Brooks, you're drunk; you're beastlydrunk; drunk as a sailor by all that's sober. " And together they entered"Old Forty Rods. "

CHAPTER XX. 

CONSTANCE AT BAY. 

"It is impossible, sir! utterly impossible! and, pardon me for sayingit, most absurd! This matter has been dragged on too long already. Andon such evidence I utterly refuse to follow up the case. You have donewell, undoubtedly, but it was only at the urgent request of Mr. Lamottethat I have allowed it to continue, and now I wash my hands of the wholeaffair. "

It is Constance Wardour who speaks, standing very straight and with headvery firmly poised, and wearing upon her face what Mrs. Aliston wouldhave called her "obstinate look. " Her words were addressed to a welldressed, gentlemanly looking personage, who is neither young nor yetmiddle aged, and who might pass for a solicitor with a good run ofclients, or a bank cashier out on special business. He is lookingsomewhat disconcerted just now, but recovers his composure almost as sheceases speaking. 

"But, madam, " he expostulates mildly, "this is unheard of, really. Youemploy me upon a case which, just now, has reached a crisis, and whensuccess seems almost certain you tell me to drop the case. I never liketo drag forward my own personality, Miss Wardour, but really this is ablow aimed directly at my professional honor. "

There is an ominous flash in the eye of the heiress, but her voice issmooth and tranquil, as she replies:

"I am sorry if this should injure _you_, Mr. Belknap, but, pardon me, Iscarcely see how it can; you, as I understand, are a '_privatedetective_, ' answerable to no one save yourself and the one employingyou. I, as that one, pronounce myself satisfied to drop the case. Idecline to use the circumstantial evidence you have brought against aman who is above suspicion, in my mind, at least. Let the Wardourdiamonds rest in oblivion. Mr. Belknap, I am ready to honor your draftfor any sum that you may deem sufficient to compensate you for thetrouble you have taken, as well as for the _hurt_ done your professionalpride. "

Private Detective Belknap stood for a moment, pondering, then he liftedhis head and said, with an air of injured virtue beautiful tocontemplate:

"Miss Wardour, of course there is no appeal from your decision. In myprofession it often happens that we are compelled to unmask fraud anddeceit in high places, and to wound the feelings of some we profoundlyrespect. While in your employ, I was bound to work for your interest; Iowed a duty to you. Being dismissed from your service, I owe a dutystill to society. As an officer of the law, it becomes my duty, being nolonger under your commands, to make known to the proper authorities thefacts in my possession. I do not know this Doctor Heath, consequentlycan have no object in hunting him down; but, believing him guilty, andholding the proof that I do, I must make known the truth, otherwise Ishould be compromising myself, and compounding a felony. " Here Mr. Belknap took up his hat. "I will send in my statement of expenses, etc. , to-morrow, Miss Wardour. This withdrawal of the case has been so sudden, so unexpected, that I am not prepared for a settlement of accounts. " AndMr. Belknap turned slowly toward the door. 

But the heiress stopped him by a gesture. 

"Stay a moment, sir, " she said, and the ominous gleam was intensifiedinto a look of absolute hatred, for an instant. "I hope I do not quiteunderstand your meaning. Did you intend to tell me that if I dismiss youfrom my service, you will still continue the search for my diamonds?"

[Illustration: "Stay a moment, sir. "]

"No, madam: I will simply place the facts I have gathered before thetown authorities, and leave them to use the knowledge as they see fit. Ithen withdraw from the field, unless called upon as a witness, when, ofcourse, I must do my duty. "

Miss Wardour stood for some moments in silent thought, one small foottapping nervously the while, a sure sign of irritation with her. At lastshe said, slowly, and with an undertone of sarcasm, that she made afutile effort to conceal:

"I think I comprehend you Mr. Belknap, and I withdraw my dismissal. Youare still retained on the Wardour robbery case; I suppose, therefore, you are subject to my orders. "

Mr. Belknap laid down his hat, and returned to his former position. Without a trace of triumph or satisfaction in his face or manner, hesaid:

"I am subject to your commands, certainly, Miss Wardour; but I beg thatyou will not misapprehend me. "

"Be easy on that point, " interrupted Miss Wardour, somewhat impatiently. "Now then, Mr. Belknap, I want a little time to consider this matter, and to consult with my aunt; also to see Mr. Lamotte. During this time Idesire you to remain passive, to make no move in the matter; above all, to mention your suspicions to no one. You can, of course, keep as closea watch as you may please over Doctor Heath, but it must be donequietly, do you comprehend? You are to say nothing of this matter noteven to Mr. Lamotte. "

Once more the detective took up his hat. 

"I comprehend, " he said, gravely; "you shall be obeyed to the letter, Miss Wardour; for three days, then, my task will be an easy one. OnFriday morning I will call on you again. "

"That is what I wish, " she said; "I will have further instructions foryou then. "

With the bow of a courtier, the private detective withdrew from herpresence, and for a moment the heiress stood as he had left her, gazingat the door through which he had disappeared, as if she were seeking totransfix an enemy with the angry fire of her eyes. Then she struck herhands together fiercely, and began a rapid march to and fro across theroom. 

"Ah!" she ejaculated; "the sleek, smooth, oily-tongued wretch! To dareto come here and make terms with _me_; to fairly compel me to keep himin my service! and to bring such a charge against _him_. If he had anenemy, I should call it a wretched plot. But I'll not be outwitted byyou, Mr. Belknap; I have three day's grace. "

She continued to pace the room with much energy for a few moments, andthen seating herself at a writing table, rapidly wrote as follows:

 NEIL BATHURST, ESQ, No. ---- B---- street. N. Y. 

 _Dear Sir:_--If in your power, be in W---- in two days, without fail. Danger menaces your friend, Dr. H----, and I only hold detective B---- in my service to bridle his tongue. I fear a plot, and can only stay proceedings against the innocent, by proclaiming the truth concerning my diamonds; acting under your advice, I will withhold my statement until you arrive. 

 Hastily, etc. , CONSTANCE WARDOUR. 

There was yet an hour before the departure of the eastern mail, andConstance sealed her letter, and dispatched it by a faithful messenger;this done, she pondered again. 

The private detective had waited upon her that morning with a strangestatement. For weeks he had been working out this strange case, guidedby the fact that the chloroform administered to Constance wasscientifically meted out. He had commenced a system of shadowing thevarious medical men in W----, without regard to their present orprevious standing. Nothing could be found in the past or present of anyto cause them to fall under suspicion, until he came to investigateDoctor Heath. Here what did he find? First, that his antecedents couldbe traced back only so far as his stay in W---- had extended. Nothingcould be found to prove that his career had been above reproach, previous to his sojourn here; hence, according to the reasoning of Mr. Belknap, it was fair to suppose that it had not been. "For, " argued theastute private detective, "where there is secresy, there is also roomfor suspicion. " And Constance felt a momentary sinking of the heart, when she recalled the words she had overheard, as they fell from thelips of Clifford Heath: "Here, I am Clifford Heath, from nowhere. "Starting with a suspicion, the private detective had made rapid headway. He had ascertained beyond a doubt that Doctor Heath's expenses, takenall in all, were in excess of his professional income. He might have aprivate income, true; but this was not proven, and then there _was_ amystery that the accused had tried in vain to hide from the eyes of thehunters. There was a correspondence that was carried on with the utmostcaution, letters received that had thrown him quite off his guard, andthat were destroyed as soon as read. Finally and lastly, there was thebottle broken into fragments and thrown to the dust heap; but, withoutdoubt, the counterpart of the one found at Miss Wardour's bedside on themorning of the robbery; while, among some cast-off garments, had beenfound the _half of a handkerchief_, that matched precisely the one foundover the face of the heiress. All these facts Mr. Belknap had laidbefore her with elaborate explanations, and "notes by the way, " butinstead of drawing from her the expected indignant demand for theinstant arrest of the accused one, Miss Wardour had listened coldly, andwith marked impatience, and had finally declared her decision not tomove in the affair, nor to allow any one to act in her behalf. 

As Constance reviewed the arguments of the detective, a new thought cameto her. Doctor Heath, all unconscious of the danger menacing him, mightin some way, do himself an injury, and add to the chain ofcircumstantial evidence that was lengthening for his overthrow. He mustbe warned. 

This was a delicate task, and she hesitated a little over the manner ofaccomplishing it. 

Finally, she seated herself once more at her desk and wrote anotherletter, or rather a note. 

It contained only a few lines, and was addressed to, "_Mr. RaymondVandyck. _"

Meanwhile, private detective Belknap was driving slowly in thelight buggy, that had brought him to Wardour Place, toward theresidence of Jasper Lamotte. His features wore a look of complacentself-satisfaction, and he hummed softly to himself, as he drove easilyover the red and brown leaves that were beginning to flutter downwardand carpet the highway. 

Arriving at Mapleton; he drove leisurely up the avenue, and lifting hiseyes toward the stately edifice crowning the hill, he saw, standing onthe broad piazza, and gazing directly toward him, a beautiful woman, clad in trailing silk, and wearing a shawl of richest crimson cashmere, draped about her head and shoulders; as he drew nearer, he was startledat the strange mingling of pallor and flame in her face; the templeswere like blue veined ivory, and the slender hands, clasping the foldsof crimson, seemed scarcely strong enough to retain their hold; but thelips and cheeks were a glowing crimson, and the eyes burned and glowedwith a steady intense light. 

"So, " thought private detective Belknap, "I have not left all the beautybehind me, it seems. I suppose this is the daughter of mine host. "

And so thinking, he reined in his horse upon the graveled drive and, lifting up his hat, with elaborate courtesy, said:

"I believe this is Mapleton. "

The lovely brunette allowed the crimson shawl to drop from about herhead as she came slowly down the steps, never once removing her darksearching eyes from his face. 

"This is Mapleton, sir. May I ask if this is Mr. Belknap?"

Somewhat surprised, he answered in the affirmative. 

"Mr. Belknap, the detective, " she persisted, and then seeing that hehesitated over his answer, she added, "I am Jasper Lamotte's daughter, and know that he expects you. "

"I am the man Mr. Lamotte expects, " he said, throwing down the reinsand springing from the buggy. "Is Mr. Lamotte at home?"

"My father is in the library, " she replied, coming still nearer him, "follow me, Mr. Belknap, I will send a servant to take your horse. "

He followed her up the steps, and across the broad piazza; as theypassed under the shadow of the arched doorway, she paused, looked abouther, and then, drawing close to the detective and laying one handlightly on his arm, she whispered:

"Mr. Belknap, I have a word for your ear alone. Can you meet me to-nightwhere we shall be secure from intrusion?"

Her burning eyes searched his face, and accustomed as he was to strangesituations, Mr. Belknap was startled for a moment out of hisself-possession. 

"I have need of your professional services, " she hurried on, "and theymust be rendered very secretly. Will you hear what I have to say?"

The beautiful face was full of wild eagerness, and Mr. Belknap was notinsensible to the piquancy of the situation. 

"I am yours to command, madam. Name the place and hour, " he repliedgallantly. 

"Then meet me at the boat house, you can see it from here, to-night atnine. Be sure you are not followed, and--above all, do not mention to myfather, or any one, this meeting of ours. You will be punctual?"

"As the hour itself. "

"Thanks. Come in now, sir; I will send a servant to announce yourarrival. "

She threw open the door of the drawing room, motioned him to enter, inclined her head in a graceful adieu, and swept down the hall. 

Two minutes later he stood in the library bowing before Jasper Lamotteand his son Frank. 

"Ah, it's you, Belknap, " said the elder Lamotte. "And what news?"

"Very little, sir. "

"But, " interrupted Frank, "surely you have fired your train?"

"Yes, and I have run against the worst impediment that ever comes in adetective's way. "

"And what is that?"

"A woman. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

APPOINTING A WATCH DOG. 

Doctor Heath stood at his office window looking out upon the street, andwhistling softly. Below and directly under his gaze, stood a fine bayhorse, harnessed to a new light road wagon; and horse and owner weresomewhat impatiently waiting the arrival of Ray Vandyck, who was underengagement to drive with Doctor Heath, and pass his opinion on the"points" of the handsome bay, a recent purchase of the doctor's, who wasa lover of a good horse and a fine dog, and was never without one ormore specimens of each. 

A quick step behind him caused him to bring his tune to an abrupt close, and he turned to see Ray, who had entered hurriedly, leaving the doorajar, and was busy breaking the seal of a small cream tinted envelope. 

Clifford Heath favored him with a quizzical glance, and came away fromthe window. 

"That's a dangerous looking document, Ray, " laughed the doctor, throwinghimself down in his own favorite chair with the air of a man resigned toany thing. 

"I've a shuddering horror of any thing so small and delicately tinted. But read it, my boy; it's your fate to be persecuted, you are soamiable. "

Ray lost no time in opening and scanning the dainty note, and he nowturned a perplexed face toward his friend. 

"I'll be hanged if I can understand it, " he said, filiping the notebetween his thumb and fingers. 

[Illustration: "I'll be hanged if I can understand it. "]

"Of course you can't, 'it' having emanated from the brain of a woman. Ionly hope your inability to comprehend the incomprehensible is the worstfeature in the case. "

"But it isn't, " protested Ray. "I must renounce my drive, and yourcharming society. "

"Really! is she so imperative, and are you so much her bond slave?"

Ray laughed. "Imperative, " he cried. "You need not have asked, had youknown the name affixed to this missive, and you would obey it with asmuch alacrity as I shall. Listen, Heath: I can trust you with a secret, if this be one. " And, unfolding the note, he read:

 RAYMOND VANDYCK, ETC. 

 _My Friend_: By coming to me, _at once_, on receipt of this note, you will do me a great favor, and perhaps do one who is your friend, an essential service. Come at once, to

 Yours in waiting, CONSTANCE WARDOUR. 

"There, " said Ray, refolding the note; "now what say you?"

"That Miss Wardour's commands are to be obeyed; and--as your horse isstabled, and mine is at the door, you had best take mine and lose notime. Perhaps you may be dismissed as speedily as you are summoned, andwe may take our drive after all. Go, go, my son;" and he waved his handtheatrically. 

"Thank you, Heath. You are a generous fellow; but don't look for yourred roan steed until you see it back. I shall place that and myself atMiss Wardour's disposal. She shall find that she has summoned no laggardknight. "

"Who talks of playing the knight to Miss Constance Wardour's 'fairladye?' Let him have a care!" cried a gay voice from the doorway. Andturning their eyes thither, they saw the dark, handsome face of FrankLamotte. 

A shade of annoyance crossed the face of young Vandyck, but he retortedin the same strain:

"I am that happy man. Stand aside, sir. I go to cast myself and all myfortune at her feet. " Then, turning a wicked look back at his friend inthe big chair, he cried, "Heath, adieu! look your last on the red roansteed. I may be going 'O'er the hills and far away, '--who knows?"

"You may be gone--"

"Deep into the dying day. "

"That's the thought that distresses me, " retorted the doctor. "But go, go, egotist!"

With a laugh, and another backward meaning glance at the doctor, youngVandyck pocketed his note, took up his hat, and murmuring a mockingadieu in the ear of young Lamotte, ran lightly down the steps, and, amoment later, the swift fall of hoofs told them he was off. 

"What the deuce ails the fellow?" said Lamotte, sourly, tossing his hatand himself down upon the office divan. "Prating like a school-boy abouta summons from Miss Wardour. "

"He means to get to Wardour Place without loss of time, if one may judgefrom the manner of his going. You know, " smiling behind his hand, "Rayis a prime favorite at Wardour. "

"I did not know it, " returned Lamotte, sulkily. "Vandyck don't seem torealize that I have a prior claim, and that his twaddle, therefore, onlyserves to render him ridiculous. "

Clifford Heath dropped his hand from before his face, and turned twostern, searching eyes upon the young man. 

"_Have_ you a prior claim?" he asked, slowly. 

For a second the eyes of Frank Lamotte were hidden by their long lashes;then they were turned full upon the face of his interlocutor, as theirowner replied firmly:

"I have. "

 * * * * *

Raymond Vandyck lost no time on his drive to Wardour Place; and beforehe could frame any sort of reasonable guess as to the possible meaningof Constance's note, he found himself in her very presence. 

"Ah, Ray!" she exclaimed, extending a welcome hand, "you are promptnessitself. I hardly dared hope to see you so soon. "

"I met your messenger on the road, as I was riding in to keep anappointment with Heath, " exclaimed Ray, "but as I was in company withBradley, our new neighbor, you know, I did not open the note until I gotto Heath's office. Then, as your note was urgent, and Heath's horse atthe door, I took it, and here I am, very much at your service, Conny. "

"And I don't know of another who _could_ be of service to me just now, Ray, " she said, seriously; "neither do I know just how to make use ofyou. Ray, " suddenly, "are you burdened with a large amount ofcuriosity?"

"About the average amount, I think. "

"Well! I am about to give that curiosity a severe test. "

"Seriously, Conny, unless your secret concerns some one especially dearto me, I can survive being kept in the dark. "

"And being made to work in the dark?"

"Yes, that too, under your orders, for I know I should risk nothing inobeying them. "

"I should set you no dangerous or dishonorable task, of course, Ray. "

"I am sure of that, Conny; command me; don't hesitate. "

But she did hesitate, not knowing just how to tell him that she wasDoctor Heath's friend, in spite of appearances, without telling, orrevealing otherwise too much. How could she set the matter before him, as she wished him to see it?

Seeing her hesitate, Ray unwittingly came to the rescue, and Constanceseized upon the idea he gave her, with hasty eagerness, little thinkingof the results that were to follow her implied deceit. 

"I can't feel too grateful for your confidence at any price, " he said, laughingly; "when I think how Lamotte glowered at me when he saw mecoming here. But, then, if rumor speaks the truth, he has a right to bejealous, eh, Constance?"

Here was a way out of her dilemma; let Ray imagine her engaged to FrankLamotte, and he would not misconstrue her interest in Doctor Heath; asfor Frank, he had been a suitor, and a most troublesome one, for solong, that she thought nothing of appropriating him to herself, as amatter of convenience, and only for the moment, and she never thought atall of the injury she might do herself by this deception. 

"Oh, yes!" she replied; "I have given Frank the right to be as jealousas he pleases. " And the hot blood flamed into her cheek, as she saw howreadily he had taken her words as she had meant them to be understood. 

"Lamotte's a lucky fellow, " said Ray, "although I know a better man Iwould like to see in his shoes. But we won't quarrel over Frank. Is ithim that I am to serve?"

"No, " she replied, coloring again. And once more he misapplied herconfusion. 

Constance was silent and thoughtful for a few moments, and then she camedirectly to the point. 

"Some strange things have come to my knowledge concerning Doctor Heath, Ray. They have come in such a manner that I would be in a measureviolating the confidence of another were I to make a statement in full, and yet--in some way Doctor Heath must know that danger menaces him. "

"Ah!" uttered Ray Vandyck, and Constance, lifting her eyes to his face, caught there a fleeting look that caused her to ask suddenly:

"Ray, have you heard anything about Doctor Heath? anything strange, Imean, or unexpected?"

"Why, " replied Ray, slowly. "I have nothing very strange to relate, but--Heath's encounter with Burrill a short time since has made sometalk. "

"I don't understand you. "

"Then is it not about this affair that you have sent for me?"

"Ray, explain yourself. What of this 'affair, ' as you call it?"

"Why, you see, " began Ray, plunging into his recital after a fashionpeculiar to himself, "about a week ago, yes, it was quite a week ago, onthat stormy blustering Monday night, when sensible people staid indoors, Heath, after the manner of doctors, was straggling about thatlovely precinct known as Mill avenue, trying to find the shortest wayout after paying a visit to some sick child, or woman, I won't swearwhich; as I was saying, he was on his way out of that blessed avenue, when he heard screams coming from the cottage he was passing. It was thevoice of a woman, and Heath made for the house, and rushed in just intime to see that latest addition to society, Mr. John Burrill, in astate of partial intoxication, raining blows about the head andshoulders of the woman who was once his wife. Heath rained one blow uponhim and he went down under it. Then he got up, not quite satisfied andthirsting for more fight, and Heath felled him once more. 

"It seems that the thing had been done so rapidly, that Burrill had nothad time to get a fair look at the face of his assailant; but the secondtime he scrambled to his feet, Heath stood facing him full, braced andready, when, behold, Burrill, after one look, turns as pale as aspectre, utters a yell of fear, and dashes out of the house like amadman. By this time, several people had come in, and the thing puzzledthem not a little. Heath asserted that he had never, to his knowledge, seen Burrill before; and yet there stood the fact of Burrill's fright atsight of him. Some believed it a case of mistaken identity; others, thatHeath was trying to mislead them, and that he did know Burrill. Theaffair became noised about as such things will be, and some were curiousto see another meeting between Heath and Burrill. And here comes thequeer part of the business. In his sober moments, Burrill avoids Heath, and can not be brought to mention his name. But when he gets a littletoo much on board--beg pardon, Conny--I mean, somewhat intoxicated, hebecomes very loquacious; then he throws out strange hints, and givesmysterious winks; states that he could tell a tale about Heath thatwould open everybody's eyes. He talks of 'borrowed plumage, ' andinsinuates that Heath would like to buy him off. He says that he took tohis heels because he knew that Heath did not mean fair play, etc. Finally, two or three evenings ago, when Burrill was remarkably tipsy, and therefore, unusually ripe for a combat with any one, Heath and I, crossing the street opposite Spring's Bank, encountered him comingtoward us, surrounded by a party of roughs. As we approached them, Burrill making some uncouth gestures, came forward, in advance of therest, and as he came opposite Heath, leaned toward him, and whispered afew words in his ear. I don't know what he said, but the effect on Heathwas magical. For a moment, he seemed staggered, as if by a blow, andthen he took the fellow by the throat, and shook him until his teethrattled; then loosed his hold, so suddenly, that his man dropped to theground. Heath by this time was a little cooler; he stooped over theprostrate man, took him by the collar, and fairly lifted him to hisfeet, then he said:

"'Understand this, fellow, I allow no man to interfere with my business. This is only a sample of what will happen to you if you ever try thisdodge again; keep my name off your tongue in public, and private, if youwant whole bones in your body;' then he marched past the wholeastonished crowd, minding them no more than if they were gnats. Ifollowed, of course, and said as I came up with Heath:

"'Quite an adventure, upon my word; you seem to possess a strangeattraction for Burrill?'

"'Burrill, ' he exclaimed; 'who the mischief _is_ the fellow, Ray?'

"'He is Mr. Lamotte's son-in-law, ' I answered. 

"'Ah, ' he mused; 'so Jasper Lamotte has married his daughter to ablackmailer;' and after that, he said never a word more on the subject. I had it in my mind to tell him of the hints and insinuations, Burrill, in his unguarded moments, was putting into circulation, but hisreticence closed my lips. "

He paused, and looked to his auditor for some comment, but she sat withher eyes fixed upon the carpet, and a troubled look on her face. 

"Don't think, Conny, that I am one of those who construe this againstHeath, " said the loyal fellow. "He is the best fellow in the world. Thewhole thing, for me, lies in a nutshell. Heath is not a man to disturbhimself about his neighbor's concerns, and he don't expect his neighborsto interest themselves in his. This Burrill has picked up, somehow, alittle information; something concerning Heath, or his past life, thatis not known to W----, and he is trying to make capital of it. Thesecret in itself may be a mere nothing, but Heath is the first man toresent impertinences, and the last man to make explanations. And he'sright, too, especially under the present circumstances. I like him allthe better for his pluck, and his reticence; let him keep his secrets, so long as he gives me his friendship, I am quite content. "

Constance felt a thrill of satisfaction, and a return of courage, as shelistened. Here was a friend, loyal, enthusiastic, not to be alienatedby slander or suspicion. She had known Ray from his childhood, and theyhad always been the best of friends, but she had never admired andhonored him, never valued his friendship so much, as she did at thismoment. 

His enthusiasm was contagious; she forgot all her fears, of a personalnature, and became in an instant the true woman and unselfish friend. 

"Ah, Ray, " she exclaimed, lifting two admiring gray eyes to meet his, "you are a friend indeed! a friend to be proud of; but tell me, did youhear nothing more of Burrill after that second encounter?"

"He made some pretty loud threats, " replied Ray, "and a fellow namedBrooks, a sort of crony of Burrill's, took it upon himself to call uponHeath the next day, and advise him to keep a pretty close lookout forBurrill, as he was quite likely, in one of his drunken rages, to make anassault upon him. Heath thanked the fellow, and assured him that he wasquite capable of taking care of himself, and Burrill, too, if need be;and Brooks backed out, declaring that he 'meant no 'arm by intrudin'. '"

"Ray, " said Constance, earnestly, "John Burrill is not the only manDoctor Heath has to fear. I may have acted hastily in sending for you, but I was so troubled by certain facts that have just come to myknowledge, that I could not rest without doing something. It's almost anabuse of confidence to ask so much of you and tell you so little, but ina few days I hope to be mistress of my own tongue, and then you shallhave all the particulars. For the present, Ray, promise to follow myinstructions blindly. "

"I have promised that, Conny. "

"And, Ray, you will keep this all a secret; you will do your partwithout hinting to Doctor Heath your true motive, unless circumstancescompel an explanation?"

"I promise that, too. "

"When I sent for you, it was to ask you to warn Doctor Heath, in themost delicate way you could devise, that he was menaced by an enemy, andunder hourly surveillance; but, since you have told me of this, Burrill, it occurs to me that in some way he may be mixed up in this matter, and--I have thought of a better plan. "

Ray nodded, and looked full of interest. 

"Your description of his manner of receiving Burrill's interference, andof his reticence throughout, makes me feel that it might be onlyprecipitating a catastrophe if we warned him, and so, Ray, I want you, for three days, to be his constant shadow. Devise some excuse forremaining in town; thrust yourself upon his hospitality; observe anystrangers who may approach him. If possible, do not let him get out ofyour sight, even for a short time; in three days you shall be relieved. "

"By whom?"

She lifted her hand, warningly. "No questions, Ray. Can you manage allthis?"

He pondered a while, then said: "I think I can; I am a pretty goodactor, Conny. What do you say to my feigning illness?"

"He would find you out. "

"Not if I did it well, perhaps. I think I could manage for a few days. "

"It won't do, Ray. He would send you to bed and walk away and leaveyou. "

Ray groaned. 

"Tell him your room is undergoing repairs, and throw yourself on hismercy; then feign low spirits, and make him think it is his duty toentertain and cheer you up. "

"Capital, Conny! we can make that work I know; your wit is worth morethan my wisdom. For three days then, I am your watch dog. "

"And your friend's guardian. "

"Precisely. I begin to swell with importance. But seriously, Conny, letme have your confidence at the earliest moment. For, whoever does battlewith Heath, will find me arrayed against him, and--it's difficultfighting in the dark. "

"You shall know all, as soon as possible, Ray, and now--"

"And now, " repeated he, rising with alacrity. "Heath's horse standsoutside, and Heath himself waits my return; so, lest he should growimpatient, and go where mischief awaits him, I will go now and begin mytask. "

"Thank you, Ray, I know I can depend upon you. All this seems like ascene out of a melodrama, but it's wretchedly real for all that. Ray, Iam just waking up to a knowledge of how much plotting and wickednessthere is in this world; even in our little world of W----. "

"We all wake to that knowledge, " he said, a spasm of pain crossing hisface. "You know how the lesson came to me, Conny. "

"Yes, poor Ray! and I know that another suffers, even more than you, because of it. "

"And the cause of it all is another mystery. But no more of this; unlesssomething noteworthy occurs, you will not see me again for three days. "

She gave him her hand, and a look of gratitude, and trust; and, in a fewmoments more, the red roan steed was speeding back townward. 

Francis Lamotte had found the doctor dull company; and, as he scarcelyever remained in the office to read now-a-days, he had taken himself andhis dissatisfaction elsewhere, long before Ray returned to the officeready to begin his new _rôle_. 

He found the doctor sitting in a despondent attitude, almost where hehad left him, holding in his hand a crumpled letter. 

Without appearing to notice his abstraction, Ray came at once to thepoint at issue. 

"Heath, " he said, "your red roan is returned to you, and the loan of himencourages me to ask another favor. "

"Well!" said the doctor, without looking up or changing his attitude. 

"The fact is, " said Ray, with splendid ingenuousness, "I am a sort ofoutcast. My quarters are undergoing that misery they call 'repairs, 'and--the truth is, Heath, I want you to tender me your hospitality, for, say two or three days. I can't go to a public place; I don't feel likefacing the music, for I am a little sore yet, and I find that I am stillan object for commiseration, and I do get low spirited in spite ofmyself. It's cheeky, my asking it, I know, and you'll find my constantsociety a terrible bore; but my heart is set on quartering with you, sodon't say no, Heath. "

Clifford Heath threw off his listlessness and looked up with his usualcheery smile. 

"Why, Ray, you young dog, " he cried, "you beseech me like a veritabletramp, just as if you were not as welcome as the sunshine; come along, you shall share my bed, and board, and--I'll be hanged if you shan'tshare the daily dose of abuse I have to take from my old housekeeper. I'll make a special arrangement to that effect. "

"Thanks, Heath, " replied Ray, and then he turned to the window to hidethe fire that burned in his cheeks, because of the deceit he waspracticing upon this open-hearted friend. "But it's all for hisbenefit, " he thought; "at least I hope so. "

"Well!" said the doctor, moving uneasily in his chair; "I hope yourmission prospered. "

"Oh, yes, " carelessly. 

"You--found Miss Wardour well, I hope?"

"Quite well; only wanting my valuable assistance in a little scheme shehas on foot, a sort of benefit affair. " And Ray congratulated himself onthe adaptability of his answer. 

"Is it too late to drive, Heath?"

But the doctor made no answer to this question, nor did he seem to hearit. Rising, he walked to the window, looked down thoughtfully into thestreet for a moment, then, without turning, he said:

"Rumor says, that Miss Wardour will marry Lamotte. "

"Yes. "

"Lamotte just now made the same statement. "

"Ah!" contemptuously, "it's like him to boast; but I'm afraid he tellsthe truth; Constance admitted as much to me to-day. "

A long time Clifford Heath stood motionless and silent at the window;then turning as if spurred by some sudden thought, he threw the crumplednote, which all the time had been clasped in his hand, upon the tablebetween them, saying:

"Here's a mystery, sir; read that and pass your opinion on it; as youare to become my guest, you should know what society you will findyourself in. "

Ray eyed the letter with his head on one side. 

"What is it?" he asked in a stage whisper. 

"A note, a _billet doux_, a solemn warning; came under the door a littlewhile ago, while I was off in a reverie; came by a spirit hand, maybe, for I never heard a sound, but there lay the letter waiting to beobserved and perused. " And the doctor laughed contemptuously, andturned away to prepare for his drive. But Ray's face lengthenedperceptibly, and he took up the note with sudden eagerness, and read:

 DOCTOR HEATH:--Take the advice of a friend and leave W---- for a time; a plot is ripening against you, and your only safety lies in your absence, for your enemies are powerful and have woven a chain about you that will render you helpless, perhaps ruin you utterly. TRUTH. 

 Lose no time, for the blow will soon fall. 

The note was written in a cramped, reversed hand, and, after a hastyperusal, Ray bent his head and scanned the pen strokes closely, then helooked up with all the color gone from his face, and a strange gleam inhis eyes. 

"How--how do you say this came, Heath?"

"I didn't say, for I don't know, my lad. It made its first appearancelying just there, " and the doctor pointed with his wisp broom, which hehad been vigorously applying to a brown overcoat, at the spot justinside the door where he had first perceived the letter, and thenresumed his occupation without observing the trouble in Ray's face. "Sensational, isn't it? but I can't think of quitting W---- just as itbegins to grow interesting. "

"Then you take no stock in this warning?"

"Bah! why should I?"

"But if you should have secret foes?"

"Let them come on, " quoted the doctor, theatrically; "bring along thatprecious document, Ray, and come along yourself. "

Ray Vandyck, still looking troubled and anxious, arose, and, withlagging steps, followed his friend; as he noted with a new curiosity thetall, lithe, well knit figure striding on before him, the handsome, haughtily poised head, and the careless indifference of mien, he askedhimself:

"What can it be, this mystery and danger that surrounds him, that hascaused Constance Wardour to take such unprecedented measures to insurehis safety, and has wrung from Sybil Lamotte this strangely worded, oddly and ineffectually disguised warning, " for Ray, seeing not as theworld sees, but with the eyes of love, had recognized in the strangescrawl the hand of the woman he had loved and lost. 

"Heath _is_ in some peril, " thought he, and then, with a rueful sigh, "Oh! I would risk dangers too to be watched over by two such women. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE WATCH DOG DISCHARGED. 

The three days that followed were days of unrest to Constance Wardour. The intangible, yet distinctly realized trouble, and fear, and dread, were new experiences in her bright life. 

The mystery round about her, her inability to cope with the unknown, theinaction, the waiting, was almost more than she could calmly endure; andall this distress of mind and unrest of body was for others. Personally, she had nothing to fear, nothing to annoy her; but the warm-heartedheiress made a friend's cause her own. From the first she had grievedover the sad fate of Sybil Lamotte; not lightly, not as society sorrowsover the fall of its some _protegés_; but deeply, from her heart ofhearts. And now there was added to this, her concern for Clifford Heath, and the danger that menaced him tormented her. 

If her own honor were threatened she could not have been more troubledand full of fear; for in rebellion, in self-contempt, in a fierce burstof rage against the heart she could not control, Constance Wardour, heiress and queen absolute, was forced to confess to that heart thatClifford Heath's happiness was her happiness too. 

Having been forced to recognize this fact, against her wish and will, Constance came to a better understanding with herself, and she confessedto herself, with cheeks aflame at the recollection, that her petulantoutbreak, and shameful accusation against Doctor Heath, was but themutinous struggle of the head against the heart's acknowledged master. Too late came this self confession. Sybil Lamotte's letter had neverbeen found; the mystery surrounding its disappearance, remained amystery; and, how could she recall her accusation, while thecircumstances under which it was made remained unchanged? Realizing thatshe owed him reparation, she was yet powerless to make it. 

"It would be equivalent to a confession, that I could not be happywithout his friendship, " she said, hotly. "And he would not accept anapology while his innocence remained unproven. Let me suffer theconsequences of my own folly; I deserve it; but, " setting her whiteteeth resolutely, "no harm shall come to him that I can avert; and, I amnot the weakest of women. "

Oh, the perversity of women. Who can comprehend it? Who analyze themysterious creatures?

When there was against Clifford Heath only a breath of suspicion, a fewwhispered words from his own lips, that might mean nothing ofimportance, when calmly reconsidered; a missing letter, with thecontents of which he was familiar, and which, therefore, could be oflittle value to him, and it was enough. He stood before her accused, andwent out from her presence wronged, insulted, splendid as King Arthur inhis helpless indignation. 

Now the detective's strong chain of evidence, John Burrill's strangeinsinuations, and still stranger conduct, his words when he spoke, hisreticence when he kept silence, all were arrayed against him, withtelling effect, and in spite of them all, Constance Wardour angrilyassured herself, and fully believed, that Clifford Heath was a wronged, and innocent man. She did not reason herself into this belief; and itwas absurd, of course. She arrived at her conclusions, as all lovingwomen do, through her feelings, and her instinct. A woman seldomreasons, but in many cases her ready intuition is worth more than allman's wisdom. Her delicate instinct strikes directly at the truth, whenman's reason gropes in darkness. 

Constance went out very little during these troubled days, and for thisthere were several reasons. John Burrill's obtrusiveness was at itsheight, and he fairly haunted the vicinity of Wardour; and since theadvent of Mr. Belknap, Constance had an uneasy feeling that she was insome way, under surveillance. Nelly, who was argus-eyed, and always inarmor on behalf of her mistress, had, on one or two occasions, spied alurker about the premises; and Constance was resolved to give Mr. Belknap as little trouble, on her account, as possible. She had notvisited Sybil for some days, for, although she had informed thedetective that she desired to consult Mr. Lamotte, she had no suchintentions; and, since the day when she had promised Mr. Lamotte toretain the detective for another week, she had avoided meeting him, andbeing forced to resume the conversation. 

To know herself under the watchful eye of one detective, while anxiouslyexpecting the advent of another, and to be aware that the presence ofthe one must not be made known to the other, afforded her a new andstrange sensation; not altogether an unpleasant one either, forConstance was no coward, and had a decided taste for adventure. 

She realized, too, the absurdity of being thus shadowed in her ownhouse, by her own hired agent. 

"I should go down to posterity as the first woman who ever hired a spyto watch herself, " she mused with a little laugh. "I begin to think thatI _am_ an absurd creature, throughout. "

Two days passed, and Constance endured them, although the hours creptslowly. On the third, her anxiety was almost beyond control. 

If Bathurst should fail her! If her letter had not found him! If he wereabsent from the city! Oh, what a chance was here for disaster. Mr. Belknap would soon be in the field, and Ray's time had almost expired. 

"Oh, " she said, anxiously, "if he disappoints me, what _shall_ I do. Imust trust Ray, and will he be strong enough to battle with thisdanger?"

While she mused thus, growing wild with anxiety, a half grown boy, bearing on his head a small tray of delicate ivory carvings, wasapplying for admittance at the servants' entrance. He was shabbilydressed, but possessed a fine, intelligent face, and bore himself withcool confidence. 

"I have brought the carving for Miss Wardour, " he said, briskly. "Can Isee her, please?"

Nelly hesitated. 

"She expects me, " said the boy, quickly; "and, as I am a little late, Iwould like to show her the wares and be off, for I've more to sell inthe village. Just tell her it's the chap she's looking for. "

Constance stared in surprise when Nelly delivered this message. 

"The chap I am looking for, " she repeated slowly; then, with a suddenbrightening of her whole face, she added: "Oh, to be sure? I had almostforgotten. Send him here, at once, Nelly. "

"I hope you will excuse me, " began the boy, apologetically; then, asNelly closed the door, he dropped his voice, and said, "I come from Mr. Bathurst;" and, taking off his cap, he produced from thence a letter, which he put in her hand. 

[Illustration: "I hope you'll excuse me. "]

"I'm to wait for the answer, " he said, and took up his position besidehis wares. 

Constance opened the letter, with a hand trembling with eagerness. Itran:

 MISS WARDOUR:--By all means keep the secret of the diamonds, and trust all to me. I think it best not to come to you, as Belknap keeps a constant watch upon your movements; dismiss him as soon as you like. Have no fears regarding Heath, I have his enemies well roped; be assured that I shall be on hand when needed, and when you see me expect to have the question of the diamond mystery forever set at rest. If you have anything to say, send verbal instructions by boy; he is to be trusted. 

 Yours sincerely, NEIL J. BATHURST. 

Constance heaved a sigh of relief, as she finished the perusal of thisnote, and after a moment's reflection, she said:

"Tell Mr. Bathurst that I will obey his instructions, and that Mr. Belknap will be dismissed from my service to-day. "

"Yes, madam. Now if you will please to select some of these things forthe sake of appearance. "

"Of course. You are very thoughtful. Are you a young detective too?"

The boy looked up with a gleam of pride in his eyes. 

"I have been in Mr. Bathurst's service two years, madam. "

"Oh, then I have no fears as to your discretion; so I will ask you aquestion, knowing that you are wise enough to refuse me an answer if Iam asking too much. "

The boy smiled, and stood attentive. 

"May I ask if Mr. Bathurst is really now in W----, and when he arrived?"

The boy laughed an odd laugh, and full of mischief. 

"Mr. Bathurst is here, " he said. "I can't tell just _when_ he didarrive. "

"Then you did not come together?"

"We! Oh, no, indeed!" laughing again. "Mr. Bathurst is too smart forthat. "

Constance smiled with a returning feeling of ease and restfulness. 

"Ah, I see I can trust Mr. Bathurst--and you, and lest I ask the wrongquestion if I continue, I will not ask another one; tell Mr. Bathurst Irely on him to straighten all the tangles; and that I like his messengeralmost as much as his message. "

"My, but ain't she a rum young lady, " mused the boy, as he trudged awayfrom Wardour Place with his lightened tray of ivories, "and handsome!jingo! if I was Mr. Bathurst I'd work for her, just to see her smile, and no pay; but Lord, _he_ don't care, he don't; he'll work just as hardfor any old crone; he's another rum one. "

"Ah, what a relief, " breathed Constance, reading for the third timeBathurst's reassuring note. "I begin to feel like myself once more. NowI am ready for you, Mr. Private detective Belknap. "

And, truly, Constance _was_ herself once more. Poor Mrs. Aliston, sitting aloof, and almost abandoned during the days of her niece'sperturbation of mind, was the first to receive the benefit of thereturning sunshine. Constance, for reasons which any woman can guess, had kept her anxiety, concerning Doctor Heath, a profound secret fromthis good lady; and she, watching the signs of the times, made nocomments, but speculated profoundly--and, wide of the mark. 

"You should have gone with me to drive, yesterday, Con. , " said Mrs. Aliston to Constance, who, sitting in her aunt's room, half an hourafter the departure of her small messenger, was endeavoring to atone forher neglect of the past few days by chatting cheerily upon everysubject but the one which was of deepest interest to herself. 

"You should have been with me and seen Sybil Lamotte. "

"Sybil! Did you call there?"

"Oh, no. I can't get on with Mrs. Lamotte well enough to brave such acall alone; she is too stately and non-committal for me. "

"You don't understand her, auntie; but Sybil, did you speak with her?"

"Yes, we met just over the bridge, and Sybil stopped the carriage to askafter you; I think she is anxious to see you. "

"Poor Sybil, " said Constance, contritely, "I _have_ neglected her oflate; but we will drive there to-morrow; to-day I don't just feel likegoing out. Does Sybil look well, auntie?"

Mrs. Aliston leaned forward and lifted a plump forefinger to giveemphasis to her words. 

"Con. , Sybil is dying or going mad, I can't tell which. "

"Auntie! why?"

But Mrs. Aliston went on rapidly. "I never saw such a change; two weeksago, one week ago, even the last time she came here, Sybil seemed nervedto bear her trouble, she carried herself well and seemed firm as arock. "

"Outwardly. "

"Outwardly of course, one couldn't feel much secret pride, compelled tolive under the same roof with that low man she has married; but Sybilis not calm _outwardly_ now, she has lost all that brilliant color. "

"So much the better, it was the outward token of a mental excitementthat would soon drive her mad; Sybil should never have attempted tobrave criticism, and bear her shame so publicly. Every time she hasallowed that man to appear beside her in the streets of W----, hasshortened her life as surely as slow poison could do it. "

"Well! mark my word, she won't undergo the ordeal much longer; her eyeshave lost their steady light and luster, and have a wild, frightened, expectant look impossible to describe; when a horse came suddenly upbehind us, she started and almost screamed with fright, and I could seeher hands tremble and her lips quiver for minutes after; hands, they aremere claws! and she is growing more shadowy every day. "

"Auntie, hush! you have made me as nervous as you picture Sybil. I shallnot rest until I see her. "

"There is a gentleman to see you, Miss Constance, " said Nelly, from thedoorway, which position she had gained unnoticed by the two ladies. 

Constance gave a nervous start, and then arose hastily. 

"Who is it, Nelly?" she asked, merely for appearance sake, for she fullyexpected to see Mr. Belkhap. 

"He didn't give his name, Miss, but said he come by appointment. It'sthe same gentleman as called a few days ago. "

"Oh! then he won't detain me long, " said the young lady, a resolutelook coming into her eyes. "Auntie, I'll be with you again in a very fewmoments. "

"He won't be very graciously received, " was Mrs. Aliston's mentalcomment. "I know that gleam of the eye, and what it means. "

But Mrs. Aliston was mistaken for once. 

"Oh, Mr. Belknap, " Constance said, sweeping into his presence with herproudest air, and smiling upon him her sweetest smile. "I am glad youhave come. "

"Promptness is our first lesson in my profession, " replied he, with anaffable smile. 

"Yes! and have you learned anything new since Monday?"

"Nothing of importance. The party under suspicion has been entertaininga friend, and has been out very little. "

"Oh!"

"One thing occurred on Monday last, not long after I had left you, whichI can't help looking on with suspicion. "

"Indeed! and may I hear it?"

"I think so. Without stopping to explain my modes of takingobservations, I will give the bare fact. On Monday afternoon, whileDoctor Heath was alone in his office, a boy, carrying on his head a trayof carvings, stopped at the foot of the stairs, set down his tray, ranup the flight like a young cat, and just as quietly, and slipped a noteunderneath the office door. "

"Really!" in real surprise, and some disturbance of mind. "And you knownothing more about the note?"

"Nothing; but I shall soon I trust. "

"Then you intend following up this case, Mr. Belknap?"

He looked up with a start of astonishment. 

"Is not that your intention?"

"Decidedly not. "

"But--have you consulted with Mr. Lamotte?"

"I have consulted with no one, sir. I thought over the matter once more, and decided to let my own mind guide my actions. "

"But Mr. Lamotte thinks the case should be pushed. "

"Mr. Lamotte is my neighbor, not my guardian. He is good enough toadvise me sometimes; I think he would scarcely presume to dictate. "

"Ah! then I am to consider myself no longer in your service?"

She bowed her head. 

"After I have cancelled my indebtedness to you, " she said, serenely. 

With a look of vexation that he could not hide, the private detectivedrew from his pocket a memorandum book, and from thence a slip of paper, which he handed to Constance. 

"That is my statement, " he said. 

She ran her eye over the itemized account, smiling a little as she didso. Then, rising swiftly, she said:

"Excuse me for one moment. "

He bowed silently, and she went out, returning soon with a bank cheque, which she placed in his hands, saying:

"So ends the case of the Wardour diamonds. I shall not take it upagain. "

"What! do you really mean that?"

"I really do. "

The detective opened his lips, as if about to remonstrate, then closedthem suddenly, and moved toward the door. 

"Do you still cling to your intention of notifying the town authorities, and setting them upon Doctor Heath?" she asked. 

He turned toward her, with a peculiar smile upon his face. 

"You have offered a reward for your jewels, I believe?"

"You mistake, I have offered a reward for the apprehension of the thiefor thieves. "

"And--as you have withdrawn the case, shall you withdraw your rewardalso?"

"By no means. "

"Then--if I bring you both the jewels and the thieves my reward shouldbe doubled?"

A queer gleam shot from her eyes, as she answered, without hesitation:

"And so I shall. Place my robbers in the county jail, and put mydiamonds in my hands, and you shall receive a double reward. "

"Then, for the present, I shall keep my clews in my own hands; MissWardour, I wish you good morning. " And the private detective stalkedfrom the room with the air of a man who was overflowing with desirableinformation. 

"That's a queer woman, " mused Mr. Belknap, as he turned his face awayfrom Wardour. "I can't make her out. If it were not altogether toofishy, I should say she had a suspicion concerning those diamonds. Iintend to look a little closer into the doings of Miss Wardour; and, blow hot, or blow cold, I'm bound to have my reward, if not by this, whyby that. "

With this enigmatical reflection, he looked up to behold, sitting by theroadside, a tramp of sinister aspect, who turned his head indolently asthe detective approached, and then applied himself closer to a luncheonof broken victuals, eating like a man famished. Mr. Belknap, who, onthis occasion, had visited Wardour on foot, came quite close upon theman, and then halted suddenly, putting his hand in his pocket, as ifwith charitable intent; instantly the tramp dropped his fragment ofbread, and sprang to his feet, with outstretched hands, as if greedy forthe expected bounty. He was a dirty, ragged fellow, undersized, butstrong and sinewy, with an ugly scarred face, and a boorish gait andmanner. As the private detective withdrew his hand from his pocket andtendered the tramp a small coin, a passer-by, had there been such, wouldhave called the scene a tableaux of alms-giving; but what the detectivesaid was:

"Well, Roake, here you are; are you ready for business?"

[Illustration: "Well, Roarke, are you ready for business?"]

And the tramp replied: "You bet, if it's a solid racket. "

"Then follow me, at a distance, until we reach a place where we can talkthings over. " And Mr. Belknap moved on, never once glancing back. 

The tramp once more seated himself beside the fence, and resumed hisoccupation. When the last scrap of food was devoured, he arose, and, taking up a rough stick that served as a cane, he followed the recedingform of the private detective. 

At sunset, Ray Vandyck presented himself punctually for furtherinstructions, at Wardour. 

"You are released, Ray, " said Constance, coming to meet him, with abright face and a warm hand-clasp. "You are free to follow your owndevices; Doctor Heath has a better guardian than either you or I. "

"Cool, upon my word, " said Ray, with a grimace. "So I am dischargedwithout references?"

"Even so, and you must be content without an explanation, too, for thepresent. My tongue is still tied. "

"Worse and worse, Conny; can't I even know who has supplanted me?"

"It's a great secret, and must be carefully guarded, but, I believe Iwill confide that much to you, as it does not conflict with anypromises. "

"Well! I listen. "

"Doctor Heath is protected by an able detective. His name I must notcommunicate. "

Ray Vandyck opened wide his handsome eyes, and gave vent to a long, lowwhistle. 

"Conny, you are too deep for me, " he said; "I am all at sea; I will dropthe subject, as it is working severely upon my curiosity. "

For a few moments they sat in silence, Constance thinking how much sheregretted not asking Mr. Bathurst to make himself known to this loyalfriend, who must now be kept in ignorance, however worthy he might be ofall confidence, and Ray thinking of something that caused his face tosadden, and his eyes to darken with inward pain. Presently he drew alittle nearer his hostess, and asked, in a low, sorrowful tone:

"Conny, have you seen her lately?"

"Not for a week or more, Ray. "

"I saw her yesterday. "

"And she, " anxiously; "did she see you, Ray?"

"No, thank God! she was driving with her mother, and, Con. , " his voicebroke and he turned his face away; "I wish you would go to her. "

"Why, Ray?"

"Because--oh, you should have seen her face. She is suffering horribly;she is dying by inches. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

FATHER AND SON. 

At early morn on the next day, Jasper Lamotte and his son, Frank, wereseated together in the dining-room of Mapleton. 

Jasper Lamotte was hurriedly eating a bountiful and appetizing lunch, and washing it down with plenty of light claret; and Frank was seatednear the table, smoking a strong segar, and giving an attentive ear tothe words of his sire. 

"This is the first time that we have got the lead on Burrill, " said theelder Lamotte, "and in some way it must be made to count. Drunk orsober, heretofore, he has looked after his interests too closely toserve ours. "

"The devil's got into Burrill, " replied Frank, bending forward to knockthe ashes from his black segar; "and into the rest of the family too, Ishould say; Evan has been bad enough any time within the memory of man, but look at him now. Why, he has not been sober for ten days. "

"Well, he is sober this morning. "

"Really, have you seen him?"

"Yes. I went to his room to ask him some questions about Burrill. Ifound him white as a cloth, and quite as limp; he had overdone himselfat his last carouse; is as sick as a dog, and on the verge of deliriumtremens if a man ever was. He won't get out of his bed for a few days, if I am a judge; the room was full of medical perfumes, and his motherwas trying to induce him to drink some hot coffee. "

"And Burrill?"

"He knew nothing of him, and recommended me to look after my ownvermin. "

"He's a sharp tongued cur, " said Frank, with a short laugh. 

"Next, I went to Sybil's rooms; she was sitting over a roasting fire, wrapped in a shawl, and shivering from head to foot; she almost shriekedat the mention of Burrill's name; Sybil looks bad, very bad. When we getthese other matters safely settled, we must do something for the girl. "

"And that means----"

"That we must master Burrill. We will soon be in a position to do it, Ihope. "

"I hope so, " gloomily. 

"We must be, or be ruined. You will settle this business with Constance, at once, to-day?"

"Yes--I suppose so. "

"You suppose! man, you talk as if you were leading a forlorn hope. Doyou _expect_ a refusal?"

"I don't know _what_ to expect, " flinging away his segar, angrily, "Ican't understand Constance; I wish that cursed Heath were safely out ofmy path. "

"Can't you trust him to Belknap?"

"There we are again! what is that confounded detective doing? He hasbeen here five days, or nearly that; four days ago, Constance askedthree days to consider upon the case. What did that mean? Belknap shouldhave been here with his report long ago. Why don't he come?"

"That I can't tell you; he has his own way of doing things; his absencedoes not alter the fact, that I must use this opportunity for getting tothe city; and you must press this business with Constance, and bring itto a settlement. I don't think there is much doubt as to her answer. "

"Well, I wish I could feel as sanguine, that's all. "

At this moment there came the sound of wheels on the gravel outside, andglancing toward the window, Frank sprang up exclaiming:

"There's Belknap, and not a minute to lose. I'll go meet him, " and hehurried out, wearing a look of relief, mingled with expectancy. 

In a moment he returned, closely followed by the smiling detective. 

"Quick, Belknap, " said Frank, closing the door, carefully, "give us theimportant points. The carriage will be here in a short time, to take theold man to town, and he must be on time, for trains won't wait. "

"True, " said Mr. Belknap, seating himself near the table. "I should havereported to you last evening, but thought it best to remain about town, and let myself be seen by the hotel loungers; people, in a place likethis, are curious about a man who keeps too much to himself, and onemust always conciliate suspicion. "

"True, " from Mr. Lamotte. 

"I saw Miss Wardour yesterday, gentlemen; she entirely withdraws thecase. "

"What! entirely?" asked Frank. 

"Entirely; she asked for my account, paid it, and dismissed me, saying, that she should not resume the search, but should double the reward. "

"Double the reward!" repeated Frank. 

"Yes, _provided_ both the diamonds and the thieves were found. "

A moment's silence and then the elder Lamotte emptied his glass and setit down, saying as he did so:

"Well, but the point is not yet reached. Did you explain the necessityyou were under if the case left your hands?"

"I did. She was surprised, of course, and incredulous, but she made noremarks, and seemed not at all discomposed at the danger menacing DoctorHeath. After we had settled our business, she asked me if I should nowdrop the case and let the authorities work it out, or if I wouldcontinue to work independent of her. "

"And you said what?" asked Frank. 

"I said that circumstances must decide that. "

"And she was not disturbed about Heath?"

"Evidently not; she was as cool as myself. "

Frank drew a long breath of relief. 

"And now, Mr. Lamotte, " said the private detective, "what is the nextmove?"

"Perfect quiet for the next two or three days; like Miss Wardour, wewill take time to consider. I am going to the big city to-day, Mr. Belknap, if you need any funds before I return, call on Frank. I shallbe back in two days, and then we will decide upon our next move. Is thatthe carriage, Frank?"

It was the carriage, and almost before Mr. Belknap could realize it orgather together his scattered forces, Mr. Lamotte had shaken hands withhim, nodded to Frank, donned his hat, gathered up his traveling coat, cane, and gloves, and was on his way to the carriage, followed by aservant, who carried his small traveling bag. 

As may be seen, Mr. Belknap had made his "reports" according to his ownlights, as for instance, giving his first interview with Constance inbrief, on the same day it took place, merely stating that Miss Wardourrequested time to consider; and reserving all that portion concerningDoctor Heath, until to-day, when he gave that too, in brief, and withmany "mental reservations. "

Mr. Belknap was a little bit nonplussed at this sudden journey of JasperLamotte's; he did not like to be so widely separated from his patron, even for a few days, and especially now; but it was too late to make anamendment to this state of affairs, so he contented himself with a segarand Frank's society. Not finding the latter of the best, and being ableto enjoy the former anywhere, he soon took his leave, and drove back tohis hotel, the best in W----, where he went straight to his room, ordered up a hot brandy, complained of a slight indisposition, and spentthe remainder of the day and the entire evening in and about the hotel, lounging, smoking, reading, chatting and always visible. 

Meantime, Mr. Lamotte, arriving ten minutes early at the W---- depot, sauntered out among the people swarming about, and waiting the arrivalof the fast express. 

There was always a bustle about the W---- depot at this hour of the day, and Mr. Lamotte nodded graciously here and there, and stopped to extenda patronizing hand to a chosen and honored few. Presently he came faceto face with a man who, with hands in his pockets, was watching theunloading of a belated dray. 

"How do you do, Brooks, " said he, glancing at the hands and face thatwere a little cleaner than usual, and at the pretence of a toilet thatmade the awkwardness of the fellow unusually apparent. "You seem takinga holiday. Are you bound to leave us?"

"That's what I am, sir, " said the man, touching his hat. "Work's tooscarce for me, sir, and bad company's too plenty. I've said I would go adozen times, sir; and now I'm off. "

"I am sorry we could not keep you on at the mills, Brooks; but--you knowwho was to blame. "

"Oh, it was me, sir; I don't deny _that_. It's hard for me to keep awayfrom the liquor. But look here, Mr. Lamotte, sir: If you ever see meagain, _you'll see me sober_. "

[Illustration: "If you ever see me again, you'll see me sober. "]

Mr. Lamotte uttered a skeptical laugh and turned away. The train wasthere, and it bore cityward the gentlemanly Mr. Lamotte, and thehalf-inebriated loafer, Brooks. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A DAY OF GLOOM. 

All that day, or what remained of it after his father's departure, andthe almost simultaneous withdrawal of the private detective, FrankLamotte passed in an uneasy reverie. He had much at stake; and, now thatthe crisis of his fortunes was so near at hand, he began to review hisground, and every word, look, and tone of Constance Wardour, as herecalled them, one by one, was to him a fresh puzzle. 

Six months ago, Frank Lamotte would have scoffed at the suggestion of arefusal even from the proud Constance. Now, somehow, he had lost hisself-confidence. Again and again he imagined the words that he wouldsay, and the words he hoped, that she would answer. Then, as he forcedhimself to face the possibility of defeat, the veins upon his templesswelled out, his teeth clenched, and one of those "attacks, " to which hewas subject, and against which Doctor Heath had warned him, seemedimminent. Again and again he gazed, with proud satisfaction, upon hisreflected image, in the full length drawing-room mirror, and turnedaway, vowing himself a fitting mate for any woman. Again and again, whenthe image of his own physical perfections had ceased to dazzle hisvision, his heart sank within him, and a dismal foreboding put hiscourage to flight. 

"Confound it all, " muttered he, as he wandered aimlessly from onedeserted room to another: "the very house seems under a spell. Sybil, sitting like a recluse in her own rooms, growing pale, and wild-eyed, and spectre-like, every day. Evan, in _his_ room, sick with drink, andverging on the D. T. Mother, gliding like a stately ghost from the oneto the other, or closeted in her own room; she has not been down stairsto-day. Burrill, the devil knows where _he_ is, and what took him out sounusually early this morning. He's been cutting it worse than ever forthe past week; the fellow, seemingly, can't find company low enough forhim, in one stage of his drunkenness, nor high enough for him inanother. It's fortunate for us that liquor has at last relaxed hisvigilance; the old man has taken a leading trick by the means. Curse thebrute! Why won't he die in a drunken frenzy, or from overfeeding, but hewon't!" Thus soliloquizing, he lighted a segar and went out into thegrounds. "I'll try the effect of a little sunshine, " he muttered; "forthe house feels like a sarcophagus; one would think the family pride wasabout to receive its last blow, and the family doom about to fall. "

So, restless and self-tormented, Frank Lamotte passed the longafternoon, in the double solitude of a man deserted, alike by hisfriends and his peace of mind. 

"We make our own ghosts, " said somebody once. 

Frank Lamotte's phantoms had begun to manifest themselves, having growninto things of strength, and become endowed with the power to torture;thanks to the atmosphere into which he had plunged himself and them. 

Late in the afternoon, John Burrill came home, but Frank avoided him, not caring to answer any questions at that time. 

Burrill seemed to care little for this, or for anything; he was in awonderfully jubilant mood. He rambled through the tenantless rooms, whistling shrilly, and with his hands in his pockets. He commanded theservants like a Baron of old. He drank wine in the library, and smoked asegar in the drawing room, and when these pleasures palled upon him, heascended the stairs, and went straight to the room occupied by Evan. 

For some time past, Jasper Lamotte had made an effort to break the bondof good fellowship, that, much to the surprise of all the family, hadsprung up between the wild young fellow, and the coarser and equally orworse besotted elder one. How even reckless Evan Lamotte could findpleasure in such society, was a mystery to all who knew the two. But soit was, and Jasper Lamotte's interdict was not strong enough to severthe intimacy. John Burrill responded to his exhortations with a burst ofdefiance, or a volley of oaths; and, Evan received all comments upon hischoice of a companion, with a sardonic smile, or a wild mocking laugh. 

They had not been much together for the past few days, owing to theindisposition which had kept Evan away from their favorite haunts, buthad not kept him away from his favorite beverage. 

As Burrill entered his room, Evan received him with a shout of welcome, and for more than an hour they were closeted there, some timesconversing in low, guarded tones, and sometimes bursting into roars oflaughter, that penetrated even through the shut doors of Sybil's rooms, causing her to start nervously, and shiver as with a chill. 

A little before sunset the carriage from Wardour deposited Constance andMrs. Aliston at the door of this home of little harmony, and evenConstance noted the unusual stillness, and whispered to her aunt, asthey waited in the drawing room the appearance of Mrs. Lamotte:

"Bah! I sniff the ogre here, auntie. 'The trail of the serpent' is overthe entire house. "

"I sniff the dead odor of a vile segar, " retorted Mrs. Aliston. "As forthe ogre--if he won't appear in person, I'll try and survive the rest. "

"I am very glad you have come, Constance, " said Mrs. Lamotte, enteringat this moment. "We are so dull here, and Sybil has wished much to seeyou. " And then she extended a courteous but more stately greeting toMrs. Aliston. 

"It grieves me to hear that Sybil is not so well, dear Mrs. Lamotte. Does she employ a physician?" asked Constance, presently. 

"She will not have a physician called, much to my regret. The verysuggestion makes her wildly nervous. "

"And--she keeps her room too much. I think Frank told me. "

"Yes, recently. But, Constance, go up to her; Mrs. Aliston and I willentertain each other for awhile, and then we will join you. Sybil heardyou announced, and will expect you. "

Thus commanded, Constance lost no time in making her way, unattended, toSybil's room. 

In the upper hall she met Frank, who started, and flushed at sight ofher, and then hurried forward, with extended hand. 

"Constance, " he exclaimed, eagerly, "how glad I am to see you. "

"I'm such an uncommon sight!" she laughed, too much absorbed withthoughts of Sybil, to notice the extra warmth of his greeting, or acertain change of manner, that was a mingling of boldness, bashfulness, humility and coxcombery. 

"How do you do, Frank?"

"Well in body, Constance--"

"Oh! then we can easily regulate your mind. I'm going to see Sybil, andI don't want your company; so adieu, Frank. "

"One moment, please. I want to--I _must_ see you, this evening. Shallyou remain with us?"

"No. Aunt Honor below; we go home, soon. "

"Then--may I call, this evening, Constance?"

"What a question! as if you did not call whenever the spirit moved youso to do; come, if you like, child; I shall have no better company, I amafraid, " and on she swept, and had vanished within his sister's room, before Frank could decide whether to be chagrined, or delighted, at soreadily given, carelessly worded, a consent. 

The start, the nervous tremor, the terrified ejaculations, with whichSybil greeted, even this expected and welcome guest, all told how somedeadly foe was surely undermining her life and reason. And Constancenoted, with a sinking heart, the dark circles around the eyes that weregrowing hollow, and heavy, and full of a strange, wild expectancy: thepale cheeks, thinner than ever, and the woful weariness of the entireface. 

Greeting her tenderly, and making no comments on her changed appearance, Constance chatted for a time on indifferent subjects, and noted closely, as a loving friend will, the face and manner of her listener. Sybil satlike one in a trance, rather a nightmare, her eyes roving from hervisitor's face to the door, and back again, and this constantlyrepeated; her whole attitude and manner, that of one listening, ratherfor some sound, or alarm, from afar, than to the words of the friendbeside her. 

At last, Constance finding commonplace about exhausted, said:

"Congratulate me, child! I have thrown off a burden from my shoulders; Ihave brought my diamond investigations to a close. "

"Ah! diamonds!" Sybil almost started from her chair, and the exclamationcame sharply from lips white and trembling. 

"Yes, my lost diamonds, you know; I have dismissed Mr. Belknap. "

"Belknap!" an unmistakable look of horror crossed her face. "Dismissedhim; oh, I wish _I_ could!"

Sorely at a loss, yet thinking it best not to seem surprised at what shebelieved to be the efforts of a wandering mind to grasp and master thesubject under discussion, Constance talked on, answering questions andmaking observations, without allowing Sybil to see the surprise andsorrow that filled her heart; and, not until many days later did sherecall her friend's wild words, to see how much of method there might bein this seeming madness. 

"Mr. Belknap was conducting the search for the diamonds, you know, Sybil?"

Sybil seemed making an effort to collect her scattered senses. 

"Yes, yes, Conny, go on, " she whispered. 

"I have paid him off and am done with him; that's about all, dear. "

"Conny, " in a half whisper, "is he _gone_?"

"I don't know about that; he said something about remaining here for atime. "

"Oh!" ejaculated Sybil, and then, under her breath, "My God!"

Constance shuddered as she looked upon the shivering figure before her, the wavering eyes, the hands clenching and unclenching themselves; shefound conversation difficult, and began to wonder how she could avoidsubjects that brought painful thoughts or suggestions. But suddenly achange came over Sybil; sitting erect, she looked fixedly at her friend, and asked:

"Conny, has _he_ tormented you of late?"

"He! Sybil; you mean--"

"I mean my curse! has he dared to annoy you? He has sworn that he willbe accepted and recognized as your friend. "

Constance laughed a short, sarcastic laugh. 

"Be at rest, Sybil; he never will. "

"No;" with a strange dropping of the voice. "_He never will!_"

Again she seemed struggling to recover herself, and to recall somethought; then she looked up and asked abruptly:

"Conny, have you promised to marry my--Frank Lamotte?"

"No, Sybil. "

"Then--promise, _promise_ me, Constance, as if I were on my dying bed, that you never will. "

"Why, Sybil, dear?"

"Don't ask for reasons, don't; promise, _promise_, PROMISE!"

She was growing excited, and Constance hastened to say:

"You are laboring under some delusion, dear child; Frank has not offeredhimself to me. "

"But he will! he will! and I tell you, Constance, it would be givingyourself to a fate like mine, and worse. The Lamottes have not done withdisgrace yet, and it shall not fall on you; promise me, Con. "

"I promise, Sybil. "

"You promise;" she arose from her chair and came close to Constance;"you promise, " she said, slowly, "never, _never_ to marry FrancisLamotte?"

[Illustration: "You promise never to marry Francis Lamotte?"]

"I swear it. "

A coarse laugh, a smothered oath; they both turn swiftly, and there, inthe doorway, smelling of tobacco and brandy, and shaking with coarselaughter, is John Burrill, and beside him, with clenched hands, swollentemples, drawn, white lips, stands Francis Lamotte. Stands! No. Hereels, he clings to the door-frame for support; his _enemy_ is upon him. 

Sybil draws herself erect; the red blood flames to her face; the firedarts from her eyes; she lifts one slender arm and points at the reelingfigure; then there rings out a burst of mad, mocking laughter. 

"Ha! ha! ha! Frank Lamotte, I have settled my account with you. "

Then turning swiftly upon Burrill, and with even fiercer fury sheshrieks:

"Out, out, out of my sight! I am almost done with you, too. Go back toyour wine and your wallowing in the gutter; your days are numbered. "

The awful look upon her face, the defiant hatred in her voice, thesudden strength and firmness of her whole bearing, Constance shudderedat and never forgot. Frank Lamotte, making a monstrous effort forself-control, gasped, let go his hold on the door frame, lifted his handto his temples, and came a few steps into the room. Outside, on thestairway, was the rustle of woman's garments, the light fall of swiftfeet. In another moment Mrs. Lamotte, followed by Mrs. Aliston, entersthe room, pushing past the gaping and astonished Burrill with scantceremony. Then, Sybil's strength deserts her as John Burrill, recalledto a sense of his own importance, advances, and seems about to addressher. She utters a cry of abhorrence and terror, and, throwing out herhands to ward off his approach, reels, falls, and is caught in thesupporting arms of Constance and Mrs. Lamotte. 

While they are applying restoratives, Frank sees the propriety ofwithdrawing from the scene, but no such motives of delicacy or decencyever find lodgment in the brain of John Burrill, and leering with tipsygravity, he presses close to the bedside and poisons the air with hisreeking breath. Constance flushes with anger, and glances at Mrs. Lamotte. That lady looks up uneasily, and seems to hesitate, and thenMrs. Aliston rises to the occasion, and covers herself with glory. 

Looking blandly up into the man's face, she lays one fat, gloved handupon his arm, and says, in a low, confidential tone:

"Come this way one moment, sir, if you please, " and she fairly leads thewondering and unsuspecting victim from the room. A second later he isstanding in the passage, the chamber door is shut swiftly and lockedsecurely. John Burrill has been led out like a lamb, and the fat andsmiling strategist comes back to the bedside. 

"I suppose he thought I would tell him a secret when I got him outside, "she laughs, softly. 

Whatever he thought he kept to himself. After uttering a few curses hewent below, "returned to his pipe and his bowl, " and waited the dinnerhour. 

"I shall send for Doctor Heath, " said Mrs. Lamotte, as she bent aboveher daughter, who had slowly returned to consciousness, but lay passive, seeming not to see or know the friends who stood about her. "Sybil doesnot know us; I feel alarmed. "

Mrs. Aliston nodded sagaciously. "He can not come too soon, " she said;then to Constance, with a mingling of womanly tact and genuinekindliness, "my child, you had better drive home soon. If Mrs. Lamottewishes, or will permit, I will stay to-night. It will be better, believeme, Mrs. Lamotte, than to share a watch with any servant; and I am agood nurse. "

So it is arranged that she shall stay, and Constance proposes to returnalone to Wardour. 

As she goes down stairs to her carriage, from out the shadow of thedrawing room comes Frank Lamotte, still very haggard, and trembling withexcitement suppressed. 

"Constance!" he whispers, hoarsely, "one moment, please. "

She pauses before him, very pale and still. 

"Constance, " speaking with an effort, "I--went up there, hoping to keepBurrill from intruding; he was too quick for me, and--and I heardSybil's last words--and yours. "

No answer from the pale listener. 

"My sister asked you to refuse me. Am I right?"

"You heard. "

"And you promised?"

"I promised. "

"Constance, Sybil is half mad. You surely were only humoring her whim inso replying. "

"Sybil _is_ half mad. I begin to think that you know why. "

"We all know why. She has sacrificed herself for an ingrate; she hassaddled us all with a monster, to save a brother who is not worthsaving. "

"Frank Lamotte, stop; I can not listen to this; for, let me tell youthat I know this charge against Evan Lamotte to be false, and I knowthat you know it; and yet you have sanctioned the fraud. Who hasblighted Sybil's life, you may know, but it is not Evan. "

"Constance do you mean--"

"I mean all that I say. Let me pass, Frank. "

"Not yet. Constance, Constance! had you never any love for me? Is thereno shadow of hope?"

"At first, " said Constance, coldly, "I liked you as Sybil's brother;later, I tolerated you; now you are teaching me to despise you. Long agoI told you that only yourself could injure yourself in my eyes. Theremight have been a reason, an excuse even, for allowing poor Evan, whohas willingly assumed the position, to become the family scape-goat. There is none for your unbrotherly and false accusation. Whatever hisfaults may be, poor Evan is unselfish, and he truly loves his sister. "

"Is this your answer?"

"What do you expect? do you want my assurance that my promise to Sybilwas made in good faith, and that I intend to keep it? If so, you haveit. " She went swiftly past him, with the last words on her lips. Andagain Frank Lamotte was the prey of his enemy; like a drunken man, hereeled back into the parlor, gnashing his teeth, cursing his fate, halfmad and wholly desperate. 

Meanwhile, above stairs, John Burrill was rehearsing to Evan, after hisdrunken fashion, the recent scene in Sybil's room, not even omitting hisown expulsion by wily Mrs. Aliston. As he repeated, with wonderfulaccuracy, considering his condition, the wild words uttered by Sybil, his listener sat very erect, with wild staring eyes, and lips heldtightly together, his teeth almost biting through them; with burningeyes, and quivering frame, and a strange fear at his heart. 

Having finished his narrative, Burrill arose:

"I'm to meet some fellows at Forty's, " he said, thickly. "I'll stop withthem a couple of hours, or three, maybe; after that--" and he winkedsignificantly. 

"After that, " repeated Evan, and winked in return. 

An hour later Evan, pale and shivering, knocked softly at Sybil's door;Mrs. Lamotte appeared. 

"How is Sybil, mother?"

"Quiet, but not rational. Doctor Heath has just gone. Evan, why! howbadly you look!"

"I feel badly. I'm going to bed; good night, mother. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

THAT NIGHT. 

At ten o'clock that night, business was running lively at the lowceiled, dingy, riverside saloon, that was most popular with the factorymen, the colliers, the drovers, and the promiscuous roughs of W----, andthat bears the dignified title of "Old Forty Rods. "

The saloon is well patronized to-night. At the upper end, nearest thedoor, "Old Forty, " in person, is passing liquors across the bar, andbawling orders to a nimble assistant, while every now and then headdresses a coarse jest to some one of the numerous loafers about thebar, mingling them strangely with his orders, and his calling of thedrinks, as he passes them across the rail. 

"Here's your beer, Lupin; Jack, half a dozen brandies for Mr. Burrill'sparty; Little, you are out on the brown horse--rum and water? Yes, sir, yes. "

"Burrill's beastly high to-night, " said a factory hand, setting down hisbeer glass and wiping his mouth; "and the boys freeze to him since hehandles old Lamotte's rocks. "

"Of course, of course. Burrill don't forget old friends; Jack, bring therum flask; they've been here a plum hour, them chaps, sir; 'ere's yourpunch, mister, and they keep the stuff runnin' down their throats, nowI can tell you. Burrill foots the bill, of course; and they can doanything with that big chap when the wines get the upper hands of him. I'll be sworn, they're up to mischief to-night, for I see Rooney and BobGiles, they delight in getting Burrill into scrapes, are drinking light, and plying him heavy, " and "Forty" turned about to draw a glass of beerfor a low-browed, roughly-dressed man who had just entered, and who wasin fact, none other than the tramp who had feasted by the roadside, onthe day before, and whom Mr. Belknap had called Roake. 

Roake drank his beer, and lounged over the bar for a short time, thencalled for a second glass, and after drinking it, went quietly out. 

At the lower end of the long saloon, several tables are scattered, andgathered about one of these we see the party spoken of as "Mr. Burrill's. "

Five men are grouped about the small table, and among these, JohnBurrill is conspicuous for being much better dressed, much louder in hislaughter, and viler in his jests, and much drunker than are the otherfour. 

Since his change of fortunes, these men have made capital of hisweakness, and his purse has supplied their thirst, in return for whichhe has been fawned upon, and flattered, during the earlier stages of hisintoxication, and made a tool and a jest later. 

"I mus' go home, " articulated Burrill, drawing forth and consulting ashowy gold repeater. "Folks's sick er home; mus' be good; take ernother drink, boys?"

"Folks sick, eh?" queried Rooney, winking behind his hand at the others, "wife, I 'spose?"

"Yes, wife I 'spose; wife 'n' brother-in-law, both sick; take ernother--"

"All right, old pard; but don't let a little sickness call you off soearly; just let Heath take care of them; you're fond of Heath, too. "

"Curse Heath!" roared out John Burrill; "what do you mean, I say, Roo-Roo-ney?"

"Burrill, " said Bob Giles, setting down his glass and speaking in a low, confidential tone; "what's this power you have over Heath? Don't youknow he's afraid of you?"

"He--he zer 'fraid er me! an' so he better be--him un--"

"And yet there are two or three of the fellows that say you are the onethat's afraid. "

"Me afraid! I--John Bur--ll, f-fraid. Boys, look, en I'll jus' tell youa s-secret. If I jus' opened my mouth, I could run that f-fellow out ofthe country; fact!" and he nodded sagaciously again and again. 

"Then there ain't no truth in that story that you are the one that'safraid, and that you wouldn't dare go to Heath's office, not even if youwanted a doctor?"

"T-truth? By gad, sir, show me the man that says so; show 'im to me! Byheavens, sir, I wouldn't be f-fraid to rout him up the d-darkest nightthat ever blew, sir. "

"Of course not, we don't doubt that, but--there's them do. I'll tell youwhat it is, Burrill, the thing would be settled if you would just walkup to the doctor's cottage, tell him you are sick somewhere, and bringaway a prescription; that _would_ settle it. "

A murmur of approval went round the table. Not a man was there amongthem who would not rejoice inwardly at the discomfiture of the arrogant, would-be aristocrat, who, while he was less than their equal in manythings, had risen above them in fortune. He had reached that period ofdrunkenness, and it took a vast quantity of stout liquor to bring him upto it, where his voice began to grow hoarse, his ready tongue to trip, his brain to be most completely muddled, and his legs to be mostunreliable instruments of locomotion. The men about the table nodded andwinked to each other, under his very nose. 

"Egg him on, Rooney, " whispered Giles, "let's have the fun out. " Andthey did. 

Ere long, John Burrill, staggering under the additional cargo of drinksimbibed as toasts to the undertaking, and again, as draughts of defianceto the enemy who would dare question his courage, buttoned his coatabout him, and, boasting, cursing, and swaggering, reeled out into thenight. Out into the night that swallowed him up forever. 

"Let's follow him, " said one of the plotters, starting up as the doorclosed behind him. 

But this proposition met with no favor. The night was very dark, and thewind blowing in fierce gusts; the saloon was warm and inviting, andtheir victim had ordered their grog, until he should return. 

"Let's drink the good liquor he has paid for, " said Rooney, with a wink, "then we will let some more of the boys into the secret, and start outin a gang and gather him up. Heath will kick him out sure enough, and ifwe follow too close we might be discovered. Not by Burrill but by thedoctor. We will bring Burrill back here and two more drinks will makehim tell the whole story. "

They did not agree with Rooney on all points of his argument; but theyhad played a coarse, practical joke upon a man who sometimes "took onairs" and vaunted himself as their patron; he who had been only theirequal once. It was only a joke, a witless, mirthless, coarse saloonjoke, and they drank on and grew hilarious, never dreaming that they hadsent one man to his grave, and another to the foot of the scaffold. 

As John Burrill came forth from the saloon and turned his face towardDoctor Heath's cottage, a lithe form emerged from amidst the darknessand paused for a moment just outside the saloon door, seeming tohesitate. 

"He's goin' home, in course, " muttered the man. "I'll jest light out andcome in ahead. " And he plunged down a by street and went swiftly overthe bridge; but not alone. 

A second dark form had been lurking in the vicinity of "Old Forty's, "the form of a boy, who glided through the dark, at the heels of theother, like a spirit. 

"He is going wrong, " thought this shadow, discontentedly. "Somehow I'msure of it; I'm shadowing the wrong party; but--I'm obeyinginstructions. " And pursued and pursuer crossed the bridge and turnedtheir steps toward Mapleton. 

Meantime, John Burrill, reeling, singing snatches of low songs, andstopping sometimes to rest and assure himself that all the landmarks arethere, pursues his way toward Doctor Heath's cottage. 

It is situated on the outskirts of the town; the way is long, the nightdark, the wind boisterous, and the way lonely. It is after ten o'clock. 

Later--nearly two hours later, Frank Lamotte, driven by his demon ofunrest, is pacing his room, feverish and fierce, when his door openssoftly, a white, haggard face looks in, a hoarse voice articulates, "Frank, for God's sake, for your own sake, come with me quick!"

Frank Lamotte turns swiftly, angrily. He is about to speak, whensomething catches his eye, fixes it in horror, and causes him to gaspout, pointing with one shaking finger. 

"Ah-h-h! _what_ is that?"

"It is the _Family Honor_!" came the hissing answer. "_Come_, I tellyou. "

And like a man in a nightmare, Frank Lamotte obeys. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

PRINCE'S PREY. 

The morning of the following day breaks gray and dismal. The wind hasbeen blowing all the night through, and wherever a tree stands, therethe fallen leaves lie, thick and rain-soaked; for it is raining, drizzling weather, and above, below, and around, all is gray, and dull, and dreary. 

Dr. Heath's cottage stands aloof from all other dwellings, quite byitself, for the houses stand wide apart in this suburban portion of thetown, and he has selected the pretty place because of its quiet beauty, and comparative isolation. He has neighbors within sight, withinhearing, too, should he choose to be vociferous; but the houses abouthim all stand within their own pleasant grounds. His nearest neighbor, on the one hand, has placed a fine orchard between them, and on theother hand, he has no neighbor at all; there is a vacant lot, wellplanted and pleasantly ruinous to see. A fine dwelling had once occupiedthe site, but fire had destroyed it, and the gaping cellar, a pile ofburnt bricks, and some charred débris, are all that remain. In summerthe place is one tangled growth of roses and flowering shrubs, andDoctor Heath makes free with the flowers in their season, and evenswings his hammock there among the old trees, that outnumber his own, and have outstripped them, too, in years and growth. 

[Illustration: The cottage stands quite by itself. ]

Opposite the doctor's cottage stands a handsome dwelling, far back amongthe trees. It is the home of Lawyer O'Meara and his wife; and the twoare the doctor's firm friends. 

Beyond the O'Meara dwelling and on the same side of the street, stretches a row of cottages, built and owned by Mr. O'Meara. These areoccupied by some thrifty mechanics, and one or two of the best of themill workers. They are neat, new, tasteful, and well cared for by theirtenants. 

Clifford Heath awakes a little later than usual, this dismal, graymorning; he had returned from his second visit to Sybil Burrill at alate hour, and after sitting beside his fire, pondering long over manythings, had retired, to sleep soundly, and to wake late. What firstrouses him is a knocking upon his door, a regular tattoo, beaten by hishousekeeper, grown impatient over coffee too long brewed, and muffinstoo brown. 

He makes his toilet after a leisurely fashion, smiling a little at thevociferous barking of his dog, Prince. 

The dog is always confined in the stable at night, where he is a safecompanion and sure protection to the doctor's fine horse; and now, itbeing past the time when he is usually liberated, he is making hiswrongs heard, and there will be no more repose or quiet until Prince isset free. 

"Poor fellow, " calls his master, as he swings open the stable door. "Poor Prince! Good, old boy! Come now, and you shall have a splendidbreakfast, to compensate for my neglect. "

The dog bounds out, a splendid bull dog, strong, fierce, and white asmilk. He fawns upon his master, leaps about him, barks joyfully, andthen follows obediently to the kitchen. The dog provided for, DoctorHeath goes in out of the rain, shaking the water from his coat, andtossing it aside in favor of a dry one; and then he applies himself tohis own breakfast. 

The warmth and comfort within are intensified by the dreariness without. Mrs. Gray has lighted a fire in the grate, and he turns toward it, sipping his coffee leisurely, enjoying the warmth all the more becauseof an occasional glance out of the window. 

Two men pass--two of the cottagers--his neighbors, who, dismayed by thestorm, have turned back toward their homes. 

"Poor devils!" mutters the doctor, sympathetically; "they don't fancylaying brick and mixing mortar in weather like this; and one of them hasno overcoat; I must keep that in mind, and supply him, if he will acceptone, from out my store. "

He stirs the fire briskly, takes another sip from his half emptied cup, and goes off in a reverie. Presently there comes the sound of a dog'sangry barking, and soon mingled with the canine cries, the voices of mencalling to one another, crying for aid. But so pleasant is hismeditation, and so deep, that their sounds do not rouse him; they reachhis ears, 'tis true; he has a vague sense of disagreeable sounds, butthey do not break his reverie. 

Something else does, however, a brisk hammering on the street door, anda loud, high pitched voice, calling:

"Heath! Heath, I say!"

He starts up, shakes himself and his ideas, together, and goes to facethe intruder upon his meditations. It is his neighbor across the way. 

"Heath, have you lost your ears? or your senses?" he cries, impatiently;"what the devil has your dog found, that has set these fellows in such apanic? Something's wrong; they want you to come and control the dog. "

"Heath! Heath!" comes from the adjoining vacant lot; "come, for God'ssake, quick!"

In another moment, Clifford Heath has seized his hat, and, followed byhis neighbor, is out in the yard. 

"Come this way, O'Meara, " he says, quickly; "that is if you can leap thefence, it's not high, " and he strides through his own grounds, scalesthe intervening palings, and in a few seconds is on the scene. 

On the scene! At the edge of the old cellar, one of the men recentlydenominated, "poor devils, " by the musing doctor, is gesticulatingviolently, and urging him forward with lips that are pale with terror. 

Down in the old cellar, the second man, paler still than the first, ismaking futile efforts to draw the dog away from something, at which heis clawing and tearing, barking furiously all the time. 

Something lies under a heaped up mass of leaves, grass, and freshlyturned earth; something from which the fierce beast is tearing away thecovering with rapid movements. As he leaps down into the cellar, Clifford Heath sees what it is that has so terrified the two men. Fromunder the leaves and earth, Prince has brought to light a human foot andleg!

Instantly he springs forward, his hand upon the dog's collar, his facepale as ashes. 

"Prince!" he cries; "Prince! come away, sir. "

[Illustration: "Prince, come away, sir!"]

The dog crouches, quails for a moment, then utters a low growl, andtries to shake himself free; for the first time, he refuses to obey hismaster. 

But it _is_ his master; there is a short, sharp struggle, and then thebrute cowers, whining at his feet. 

"Wait!" he says, imperiously to the men, and then, speaking a stern wordof command, he strides away, followed by the conquered and tremblingbrute. 

It is the work of a moment to chain him fast; and then Clifford Heathgoes swiftly back to the men, who stand very much as he left them. 

"Can this be some trick?" Mr. O'Meara is saying, peering down from theedge of the cellar wall at the mound of earth and the protruding leg. 

"There is no trick here, " replies Clifford Heath, once more springingdown into the cellar. "My dog would not be deceived. Come down here, O'Meara; this thing must be unearthed. "

Mr. O'Meara lowers himself carefully down, and the man who has thus farstood sentinel follows suit. Then the four approach the mound once more. For a moment they regard each other silently; then one of the masonssays:

"If we had a spade. "

"Not yet, " breaks in Lawyer O'Meara. "Let's make sure that we have foundsomething before we cause any alarm to be given. Get some small boards;we do not want a spade. "

The boards are found easily, and they look to O'Meara again, all butClifford Heath, who stands near the mound gazing downward as iffascinated. While O'Meara speaks, he stoops swiftly, and then carrieshis hand to his pocket. 

"Let's remove the--upper portion of whatever this is, " says the lawyernervously, "and work carefully. This looks like--"

"It looks like _murder_, " says Clifford Heath, quietly. "Pull away thedirt carefully, men. "

They are all strong-nerved, courageous men; yet they are all very pale, as they bend to their task. 

A few moments, and Mr. O'Meara utters a sharp exclamation, drops hisboard, and draws back. They have unearthed a shoulder, an arm, aclenched hand. 

A moment more, and Clifford Heath, too, withdraws from his task, thecold sweat standing thick upon his temples. They are uncovering a head, a head that is shrouded with something white. 

To Mr. O'Meara, to Clifford Heath, the moment is one of intense unmixedhorror. To the men who still bend to their work, the horror has itsmixture of curiosity. _Whose_ is the face they are about to look upon?

Instinctively the two more refined men draw farther back, instinctivelythe others bend closer. 

Swiftly they work. The last bit of earth is removed from the face;carefully they draw away a large white handkerchief, then utter a cry ofhorror. 

"My God!" cries one, "it is _John Burrill_. "

CHAPTER XXVII. 

A TURN IN THE GAME. 

It is John Burrill!

Lying there, half buried still, with clenched hands and featuresdistorted. It is John Burrill, dead. 

Clifford Heath utters a sharp exclamation. He starts forward suddenly, and looks, not upon the dead face, but straight at the white thing thatis still held in the hand of one of the masons. Then he snatches it fromthe man fiercely, looks at it again and more closely, and lets it fallfrom his grasp. For a moment all is black to his vision, and over hisface a ghastly pallor creeps. Slowly, slowly, he lifts his hand to hisforehead, rests it there for a moment, and seems making an effort tothink. Then he drops his hand; he lifts his head; he draws himselferect. 

"O'Meara, " he says, in a voice strangely hollow and unfamiliar, andpointing to the fallen handkerchief. "Look at that. I am going home;when you want me you will find me there. " And without having so much asglanced at the dead face so near him, he goes slowly towards hiscottage, holding his head proudly erect still. 

Mr. O'Meara turns away from the corpse, and gazes for a moment after theretreating form of his friend; then he picks up the handkerchief; it isof softest linen, and across one corner he reads the embroidered nameof _Clifford Heath_. For a moment he stands with the telltale thing heldloosely in his hand, and then he bends down, spreads it once more overthe dead face, and turns to the men. 

"This body must not be disturbed further, " he says, authoritatively. "One of you go at once and notify Soames, and then Corliss. Fortunately, Soames lives quite near. Don't bring a gang here. Let's conduct thisbusiness decently and in order. Do you go, Bartlett, " addressing theyounger of the two men. "We will stay here until the mayor comes. "

And Lawyer O'Meara buttons his coat tightly about him and draws closerto the cellar wall, the better to protect himself from the drip, drip, of the rain. 

"It is a horrible thing, sir, " ventured the mechanic, drawing furtheraway from the ghastly thing outlined, and made more horrible, by thewet, white covering. "It's a fearful deed for somebody, and--it looks asif the right man wasn't far away; we all know how he and Burrill were--"

"Hold your tongue, man, " snapped O'Meara, testily, "keep 'what we allknow' until you are called on to testify. _I_ have something to thinkabout. "

And he does think, long and earnestly, regardless of the rain;regardless alike of the restless living companion and of the silentdead. 

By and by, they come, the mayor, the officers, the curious gazers; therain is nothing to them, in a case like this; there is much running toand fro; there are all the scenes and incidents attendant upon afirst-class horror. A messenger is dispatched, in haste, to Mapleton, and, in the wind and the rain, the drama moves on. 

The messenger to Mapleton rides in hot haste; he finds none but theservants astir in that stately house; to them he breaks the news, andthen waits while they rouse Frank Lamotte; for Jasper Lamotte has notreturned from the city. 

After a time he comes down, pale and troubled of countenance; he canscarcely credit the news he hears; he is terribly shocked, speechlesswith the horror of the story told him. 

By and by, he recovers his composure, in a measure; he goes to hismother's room, and tells her the horrible news; he orders the servantsto be careful what they say in his sister's presence, and not toapproach Evan's room; then he tells the coachman to meet Mr. Lamotte, who will come on the noon express, with the carriage. After which, heswallows a glass of brandy; and, without waiting for breakfast, mountshis horse and gallops madly townward. 

Meantime, the fast express is steaming toward W----, bearing among itshuman freight, Mr. Jasper Lamotte; and never has W---- seen upon hisusually serene face such a look as it now wears. It is harassed, baffled, discontented, surly. He knows no one among the passengers, andhe sits aloof from his fellow travelers, making no effort to while awaythe time, as travelers do. 

As they near W----, however, he shakes off his dullness, and lays asidehis look of care; and when he steps upon the platform at W----, he is toall appearance, the same smiling suave man, who went away three daysbefore. 

There are several other passengers for W----, among whom we may see aportly, dignified gentleman who looks to be somewhere in the forties, and who evidently has a capital opinion of himself, and knows what he isabout. He is fashionably dressed, and wears a splendid diamond in hisshirt front. He carries in his hand a small valise, and asks for acarriage to the best hotel. 

Close behind him is another man, of a different stripe. He is a rakishlooking fellow, dressed in smart but cheap clothing. He carries in hishand a small, square package, neatly strapped, and this alone wouldbetray his calling, were it not so obvious in his look and manner. The"book fiend" has descended upon W----. He looks about him carelessly, watches the portly gentleman as he is driven away in the carriage fromthe W---- Hotel, sees Mr. Jasper Lamotte enter his landau, and driveswiftly away, and then he trudges cheerily townward, swinging his packetof books as he goes. 

When they are out of sight of the gaping crowd about the depot, thecoachman, acting under Frank's orders, brings his horses to a walk, and, turning upon his seat, addresses his master. 

"I've dreadful news to tell you, sir; and Mr. Frank said to let you knowit quick, so as you could come there at once. "

Jasper Lamotte stares in angry astonishment, scarcely taking in themeaning of the none too lucid sentence. 

"Well, sir, " he says, shortly, "what are you talking about?"

This time the man came at once to the point. 

"Mr. Burrill has been murdered, sir. They found him this morning in anold cellar, close by Doctor Heath's; and they say, sir, --"

"_What!_ what do you say? Burrill--"

"Murdered, sir--killed dead--stabbed right through the heart, sir. Theyare anxious for you to come. They are going to have an inquest rightthere. "

"Drive there, at once, " cried Mr. Lamotte, hoarsely. "I must see formyself, " and he sinks back upon his seat, pale and trembling. 

Meantime the carriage containing the portly gentleman arrives at thehotel. The rain is still falling, and the gentleman steps hurriedly fromthe carriage and across the pavement--so hurriedly, indeed, that hejostles against a boy who is passing with a tray of ivory carvings andpretty scroll-work. 

Down comes the tray, and the gentleman, who is evidently kind-hearted, cries out:

"Why, boy! Bless me, but I'm sorry! Didn't see you, upon my word. Pickyour wares up, sonny, and take stock of the broken things, then come inand I'll make it all square. Just ask for Mr. Wedron, and don't bebashful, " and he bustles into the office of the W---- House, where hecalls for the best room they can give him, registers as "A. C. Wedron, att'y, N. Y. , " and, asking that he might have dinner as early aspossible, he goes at once to his room. 

[Illustration: "Why, boy! Bless me. "]

"I say, " he calls to the porter who brings up his valise, "when thatyoung image boy comes, just send him along to me; I owe him somedamages. "

A few minutes later, the boy enters the office and deposits hisdisordered tray upon a chair. 

"Come along, you, " calls the porter, gruffly. "The gentleman's lookingfor you. "

"Wait a minit, can't ye?" retorts the boy coolly. "I jest want to takeaccount of stock. "

He drops on one knee and rearranges his tray with great care and nohaste. 

"There!" he exclaims, rising at length with a chuckle of satisfaction. "I reckon that big bloke'll be about two fifty out after I call. " And hetakes up his tray and says to the porter: "Now, then, give us theaddress. "

"Twenty-one, " he replies, and the boy ascends the stairs, andunceremoniously opens the door of twenty-one. 

The gentleman, who stands at the window, turns quickly at the sound ofthe opening door, and when it has closed behind the boy, he advances andasks in a low tone:

"How lies the land, George? Is there any news?"

"I'm sorry, sir, " replies the boy. "I was faithful to orders--but thingshave gone wrong. "

"How, my boy?"

"The man you call Burrill was murdered last night. "

"Ah!"

"Yes, sir, and I _might_ have known who did it. This is the way it went, sir: I kept an eye on all of your men as well as I could, during theday, and kept the widest eye on the short fellow with the tramp lay-outand the ugly face. That was easy, for he lay low all day; so I managedto get around here two or three times during the afternoon, and I foundthat Mr. Belknap was laying low, too. He staid in and about the hotelall day, and, I think, all the evening. At night the tramp fellow beganto show signs of life, and I piped him close. Early in the evening, atdusk, in fact, he went over the river and out toward Mapleton; on theway he met Burrill coming to town, and he faced about and stalked himback. Burrill lounged about a good bit, and then he went to the saloonyou pointed out to me; some fellows were waiting there for him, and theygot about a table and carried things high, drinking every five minutes. My man kept a close look on the saloon, and seemed uneasy all the time;once he went in, and drank two beers, but he did not venture nearBurrill and his party. By and by, I think it must have been ten o'clockor later, Burrill came out from the saloon alone; he was very drunk, andstaggered as he walked away. He turned south, and my man came out, as Isupposed, to follow. But, instead, he took a short cut to the bridgeand crossed over, hiding himself in the low hedge on the other side. Hestaid there until almost morning, and then he seemed to be disgusted, ordiscouraged, or both. I staid close by, and tracked him back to hisroost! Then I turned in to get a little rest myself. I was out early, and looked first after my man; he was out too, prowling about uneasily. He went to the saloon, and seemed inclined to loaf there a bit; so Iwent to look after Mr. Belknap. He was not visible, and so I loungedabout, as it was too wet to get out my wares. Well, it was not longbefore my man came out from old 'Forty Rods, ' and started out on thesouth road, and I kept on behind him, and before we had gone far we meta party of excited men, gathered about the mayor's house, and learnedthat a murder had been committed. We fell in with the crowd, and wentout to the place where the body lay. It was in an empty lot, right nextto Doctor Heath's cottage; the body was down in an old cellar, and hadbeen hastily buried by the murderers. They say it was Doctor Heath's dogthat first discovered the body. "

He pauses, and waits for a comment, but none comes; the gentleman standswith hands behind him, and head bent, as if still listening. For a longtime, he stands thus, and then takes a turn or two about the room. 

"Why, George, " he says, at last. "I don't see that you could have donebetter. It was no part of our plan to have this murder happen, and itbids fair to make us some trouble that we had not counted on. But weare used to that, George. So you think you might have known who did thedeed?"

"I might, sir, if I had followed Burrill; I felt all the time that hewas the man to watch. "

"Oh!" with an odd smile; "your instincts are on the alert. However, youdid right in disregarding instinct, and obeying orders. Now then, be offsir, and until you have further notice, keep both your eyes on Mr. Belknap. By the by, when do they hold an inquest?"

"At three o'clock, sir; they want to have Mr. Lamotte there. "

"Well! that's all, George; you had better dispose of your traps for theday, and look sharp after Mr. Belknap. "

"All right, sir;" and taking up his tray, the little detective goes out, dropping back into his old impudent manner, as the door closes behindhim. 

"So, Burrill has been killed, " soliloquizes the portly gentleman seatinghimself before his cheery fire. "Well, that goes to show that wedetectives don't find out all the tangles. We are lucky oftener than weare shrewd! Now look, I fancied I had the game in my hands, and steppedinto town this morning to throw my trump and win, and now, my game isblocked, and a new one opens against me. "

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

INTRODUCING MR. SMITH. 

All that long morning Clifford Heath sat alone in his cosy, parlor, andwhat his thoughts were no observer, had there been such, could haveguessed. His features were grave, even stern, but there was noapprehension, no expectancy, no fear; nothing but calm gravity andinflexible haughtiness could be discerned in the face that was sometimesbent over a favorite book, sometimes submerged in clouds of smoke fromhis big German meerschaum; but that never once turned toward the windowthat overlooked the scene of the morning's discovery. All day the soundsfrom thence penetrated to his ear; all day men were coming and going, with much loud talk as they passed his doorway, and much bustle andexcitement. But Clifford Heath might have been deaf and blind, so littleinterest did he manifest in the sights and sounds that were attendantupon the scene of John Burrill's low, rain-soaked bed of death. 

Crouched at his feet lay the great dog Prince, who had been comforted byhis master for any harshness that he had suffered necessarily, and henow lay watchful but quiet, seeming to share, in a measure, the mood ofhis master and best friend. 

At one o'clock Mrs. Gray came in and spread his luncheon beside him intempting array, and the doctor laid aside his pipe, and, favoring Mrs. Gray with one of those kindly smiles that she always melted under to theextent of admitting to herself that her master _was_ "a man who _meantwell_, in spite of his horrid ways. "

Then he drew his chair up beside the lunch table, and immediately setMrs. Gray's good humor awry by indulging in one of his "horrid ways, "namely, the tossing of dainty bits to Prince, who caught them in hismouth with much adroitness and without quitting his position upon theTurkish rug. 

Finally, when Prince had received his share of Mrs. Gray's dainties, thedoctor fell upon the rest and made a hearty meal. 

As he was washing down a tart with a large tumbler of claret, there camea knock upon the street door, and without a moment's hesitation--indeed, with some alacrity--he arose to answer it in person. 

Once more it was his neighbor, O'Meara. 

"Come in O'Meara, " said he, coolly. "I'm just finishing luncheon, " andhe led the way back to the parlor. 

"I just looked in for a moment in my capacity of friend and neighbor, Heath, " said the little lawyer, briskly, at the same time seatinghimself near the table. "Later on I may give you a call in myprofessional capacity, but not now, not now, sir. "

"Don't do it at all, O'Meara, " said the doctor, with a short laugh; "Ihave no earthly use for a lawyer. "

"No more have I for a medical adviser just this minute, sir; but I mayneed one before night. "

"And before night I may need a lawyer, O'Meara--is that it?"

The little man shook his head. 

"I'm afraid of it, Heath; I'm afraid of it, as things look now. "

"And things look now very much as they did this morning, I suppose?"

O'Meara nodded. 

"Then, this is the prospect ahead--a coroner's verdict thus: 'Deceasedcame to his death at the hands of Clifford Heath, M. D. ;' andcircumstantial evidence thus: 'Deceased has on several occasions beenthreatened by accused; he was found buried near the premises of accused, and upon his person was found a handkerchief bearing the name, CliffordHeath. ' This, and how much more I can't tell. It's a beautiful case, O'Meara. "

The little lawyer stared, astonished at his coolness. 

"Don't underrate this business, Heath, " he said, anxiously. "I'm glad tosee that it has not had the opposite effect on you. I'm glad to seeplenty of pluck, but--"

"But, there's a strong case against me; that's what you would say, O'Meara. I don't doubt, and let me tell you that neither you nor I canguess _how_ strong the case is; not yet. "

"Such an affair is bad enough, at the best, Heath; I don't see anythingin the case, thus far, that will hold up against an impartialinvestigation; as for other evidence, am I to understand--"

Clifford Heath bent forward, and lifted one hand warningly. 

"Understand nothing for the present, O'Meara; after the verdict come tome, not as a lawyer, but as a friend, and I will explain my languageand--attitude; for the present I have nothing to say. "

"Then I must be satisfied with what you _have_ said, " replied the lawyercheerfully. "Of course you will be at the inquest?"

The doctor nodded. 

"Well, having seen--and heard you, it is not necessary to offer anysuggestions, I see that, " and the lawyer arose and took up his hat, "andit won't be policy for me to remain here too long. Count on me Heath, inany emergency. I'm your man. "

"Thank you, O'Meara; rest assured such friendship is fully appreciated. "And he extended his hand to the friendly lawyer, who grasped itsilently, seemed struggling, either to speak or to repress some thought, and then dropped it and went out silently, followed in equal silence byhis host, who closed the door behind him, and then went thoughtfullyback to his claret. 

"Zounds!" muttered Lawyer O'Meara, picking his way back across the muddystreet, and entering his own dwelling. "To think of accusing a man of somuch coolness, and presence of mind, of such a bungling piece of work asthis. It's a queer suspicion, but I could almost swear that Heath smellsa plot. "

At this moment a carriage drove hastily by, all mud bespattered, andlying open in defiance of the rain. 

"It's Lamotte's landau, " said the lawyer, peeping out from the shelterof his verandah; "it's Lamotte's carriage, and it's Lamotte himself; Iwould like to see how he looks, just for one moment; but it's too wet, and I must go tell the old woman how her favorite doctor faces thesituation. "

A few moments after the landau had deposited Jasper Lamotte at the gateof the vacant lot, a pedestrian, striding swiftly along, as if eager tobe upon the scene and sate his curiosity, came in among the group of menthat, all day long, had hovered about the cellar. 

"What's a going on here?" he demanded of the first man upon whom hisglance fell, "an--accident?"

"Good Lord!" exclaimed the man, who was one of Old Forty Rod'scustomers; "where have _you_ come from that you don't know a man hasbeen killed!"

"Killed!"

"Yes, murdered! stabbed last night and buried in this old cellar. "

"Heavens, man! was--was he a citizen?"

"Well, I should say! and a rum chap, too. Why, you are a stranger tothese parts if you don't know John Burrill. "

"Never heard of him in my life, old Top, " replied the stranger. "I_don't_ live in these parts. "

The man drew back a little, and seeing this, the stranger came closerand laid one hand familiarly upon his arm, at the same time leaningnearer, and saying in a loud whisper:

"Any of the stiff's friends in this gang?"

[Illustration: "Any of the stiff's friends in this gang?"]

The satellite of "Old Forty, " who had at first seemed somewhat disposedto resent too much familiarity on the part of the stranger, turnedtoward him, drew closer, and allowed his features to relax into a grinof friendliness. He had not been so fortunate as to receive a morningdram, and the breath of the stranger had wafted to his nostrils thebeloved, delicious odor of "whisky killers. "

"Hush!" he whispered confidentially, "that man over there the tall, good-looking one with the whiskers, d'ye mind--"

"Yes, yes! high toned bloke?"

"Exactly; that's the dead man's father-in-law. "

"Father-in-law, eh!"

"Yes, and that young chap beside him, the pale, handsome one, that's hisson. "

"Whose son?"

"The tall man's son; Frank Lamotte's his name. "

"You don't say; good-looking duffer! Found the assassin?"

"Not exactly, but they say--"

"Look here, pard, this sniffs of romance; now I'm gone on romance inreal life; just let's step back among these cedars, and out of thecrowd, where I can give you a pull at my brandy flask, and you can tellme all the particulars. "

And the jaunty young man tapped his breast suggestively and winkedknowingly down at his new found friend. 

"Agreed, " said the man, eagerly, and turning at once toward the nearestclump of trees. 

"I may as well say that my name is Smith, " said the stranger, as hepassed over his brandy flask. "Now then, pard, fire ahead, and don'tforget when you get thirsty to notify Smith, the book peddler. "

The man began his story, and the book peddler stood with ear attentiveto the tale, and eye fixed upon Jasper Lamotte. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

OPENLY ACCUSED. 

It is three o'clock. The rain has ceased falling, but the sky is stillgray and threatening. The wind howls dismally among the old trees thatsurround John Burrill's shallow grave, and its weird wail, combined withthe rattle and creak of the branches, and the drip, drip of water, dropping from the many crevices into the old cellar, unite to form afitting requiem for an occasion so strange, so uncanny. 

Down in the cellar, standing ankle deep in the mud and slime, are the"good men and true, " who have been summoned by Justice, to decide uponthe manner in which John Burrill met his death. There, too, is themayor, dignified, grave, and important. The officers of the law arethere, and close behind the coroner stand the Lamottes, father and son. A little farther back are grouped the witnesses. Those of the morning, the two masons, Mr. O'Meara, Dr. Heath, --they are all there except thefirst and surest one, Prince. There are the men who were Burrill'scompanions of the night before, reluctant witnesses, ferreted outthrough the officiousness of one of the saloon habitues, and fearing, alittle, to relate their part in the evening's programme, each eager tolighten his own burden of the responsibility at the expense of hiscomrades in the plot. There are three women and one man, alleye-witnesses to the first meeting between John Burrill and Doctor Heathin Nance Burrill's cottage, and there is Nance Burrill herself. Thewomen stand a little aloof, upon a few boards that have been throwncarelessly down for their comfort. And Nance Burrill talks loudly, andcries as bitterly as if the dead man had been her life's comfort, notits curse. 

And there, too, is Raymond Vandyck. He stands aloof from them all, stands near the ghastly thing that once, not long ago, came between himand all his happiness. There is a strange look in his blue eyes, as theyrest upon the lifeless form, from which the coverings have been removed, but which still lies in the shallow place scooped out for it by thehands that struck it from among the living. Under the eyes of them allthe dirt has been removed from the broad breast, and two gaping woundsare disclosed; cuts, deep and wide, are made with some broad, heavyweapon, of the dagger species. 

When they have all, in turn, examined the body, as it lies, it is liftedout carefully, and placed upon a litter, in the midst of the group, andthen all turn their eyes from the shallow grave to the new resting placeof its late occupant. 

Not all; Raymond Vandyck, still gazing as if fascinated by thathollowed-out bit of earth, starts forward suddenly, then drawsshudderingly back, and points to something that lies almost imbedded inthe soft soil. Somebody comes forward, examines, and then draws fromout the grave, where it has lain, directly under the body, a knife--aknife of peculiar shape and workmanship--a long, keen, _surgeon'sknife_! There are dark stains upon the blade and handle; and a murmur ofhorror runs through the crowd as it is held aloft to their view. 

Raymond Vandyck draws instinctively away from the grave now, and fromthe man who still holds the knife; and in so doing he comes nearer thegroup of women, and catches a sentence that falls from the lips of NanceBurrill. 

Suddenly his face flames into anger, and he strides across to where Mr. O'Meara stands. 

"O'Meara, what is this that I hear; have they dared accuse Heath?"

"Don't you know, Vandyck?"

"No; I have heard nothing, save the fact of the murder; the coroner'ssummons found me at home. "

"Heath will be accused, I think. "

Raymond Vandyck turns and goes over to Clifford Heath; without utteringa word, he links his arm within that of the suspected man, and standingthus, listens to the opening of the trial. 

The only sign of recognition he receives is a slight pressure of the armupon which his hand rests; but before Clifford Heath's eyes, just forthe moment, there swims a suspicious moisture. 

Above them, crowding close about the cellar walls, is a motley throng, curious, eager, expectant; among the faces peering down may be seenthat of the portly gentleman; his diamond pin glistening as he turnsthis way and that; his great coat blown back by the gusts of wind, and anatty umbrella clutched firmly in his plump, gloved hand. Not fardistant is private detective Belknap, looking as curious as any, andstill nearer the cellar's edge is the rakish book-peddler, supported byhis now admiring friend of the morning, who has warmed into a heartyinterest in "that fine young fellow, Smith, " under the exhilaratinginfluence of the "fine young fellow's" brandy flask. 

Dodging about among the spectators, too, is the boy George, who hasabandoned his tray of pretty wares, and is making his holiday a feast ofhorrors. 

And now all ears are strained to hear the statements of the variouswitnesses in this strange case. 

Frank Lamotte is the first. He is pale and nervous, and he avoids theeyes of all save the ones whom he addresses. Doctor Heath keeps twosteady, searching orbs fixed upon his face, but can draw to himself noresponsive glance. Frank testifies as follows:

John Burrill had left Mapleton the evening before at an early hour, notlater than eight o'clock. Witness had seen little of him during the day. Deceased was in a state of semi-intoxication when last he saw him. Thatwas at six o'clock, or near that time. No, he did not know thedestination of deceased. They seldom went out together. Did not know ifBurrill had any enemies. Was not much in his confidence. 

Upon being questioned closer, he displays some unwillingness to answer, but finally admits that he _has_ heard Burrill speak in bitter terms ofDoctor Heath, seeming to know something concerning the doctor's pastlife that he, Heath, wished to conceal. 

What was the nature of the knowledge?

That he cannot tell. 

Jasper Lamotte is called. He has been absent from home, and can throw nolight upon the subject. 

The two masons, one after the other, testify; their statements do notvary. 

They were returning home, having turned back from their day's labor, because of the rain. When they came near the old cellar, the barking ofa dog attracted their attention. It came from the cellar, and one ofthem, curious to see what the dog had hunted down, went to look. The dogwas tugging at what appeared to be a human foot. He called hiscompanion, and then leaped down into the cellar, and tried to drive thedog from what he now feared was a half buried human being. The other mancalled for help, and, seeing O'Meara, shouted to him to tell Heath tocome and call off his dog. 

They tell it all. How Doctor Heath came and mastered the dog, after ahard struggle; how the face of the dead was uncovered, and how DoctorHeath had snatched at the white thing they had taken from off it, scrutinized it for a moment, and then flung it from him. They repeat hiswords to Mr. O'Meara with telling effect; and then they stand aside. 

Doctor Heath is sworn. He has nothing to say that has not been said. Heknows nothing of the murdered man, save that once he had knocked himdown for beating a woman, and once for insulting himself. 

Had he ever threatened deceased? He believed that he had on the occasionlast mentioned. What was the precise language used? That he could notrecall. 

Then the handkerchief is produced; is presented to him. 

"Doctor Heath, is that yours?" Every man holds his breath; every man isvisibly agitated; every man save the witness. 

Coolly lifting his hand to his breast pocket, he draws from thence afolded handkerchief; he shakes out the snowy square, and offers it tothe coroner. 

"It is mine or an exact counterpart of mine. Your honor can comparethem. "

Astonishment sits on every face. What matchless coolness! what asplendid display of conscious innocence! or of cool effrontery!

The coroner examines the two pieces of linen long and closely, then hepasses them to one of the jurymen; and then they go from hand to hand;and all the while Clifford Heath stands watching the scrutiny. Noteagerly, not even with interest, rather with a bored look, as if he mustsee something, and with every feature locked in impenetrable calm. 

Finally the coroner receives them back. They are precisely alike, and sosays his honor:

"Clifford Heath, do you believe this handkerchief, which I hold in myhand, and which was recently found upon the face of this dead man, tobe, or to have been yours?"

"I do, " calmly. 

"Are you aware that you have recently lost such a handkerchief?"

"I am not. "

"Has such a one been stolen from you?"

"Not to my knowledge. "

"Then you have no idea how your property came where it was this morningfound?"

"You are seeking facts, sir, not ideas. "

A moment's silence; the coroner takes up the knife. 

"Doctor Heath, will you look at this knife?"

The doctor steps promptly forward and receives it from his hand. 

"Did you ever see that knife before?"

[Illustration: "Did you ever see that knife before?"]

"I can't say, sir, " turning it carelessly in his hands, and examiningthe spots upon the blade. 

"Did you ever see one like it?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Did you ever own one like it?"

"I _do_ own one like it. "

"Are such knives common?"

"They are--to the surgical profession. "

"Do you own more than one knife of this sort?"

"I do not. "

"Did you ever own more than one like this?"

"Not at the same time. "

"Then you have lost a knife like this?"

"No; but I have broken two. "

"When did you last see deceased alive?"

"Not since our encounter on the street; that was a week ago, I shouldthink, perhaps longer. "

"Who witnessed that affair?"

"Mr. Vandyck was with me; the others were strangers. "

"That is all, Doctor Heath. "

Lawyer O'Meara comes next; his testimony is brief, and impatientlygiven. He adds nothing new to the collected evidence. 

Next comes the man Rooney, and he rehearses the scene at "Old FortyRods, " sparing himself as much as possible. 

"We didn't really think he'd go to Doctor Heath's, " he says inconclusion. "We all called it a capital joke, and agreed to go out andlook him up after a little. He was reeling drunk when he went out, andwe all expected to find him floored on the way. After a while, an hourperhaps, we started out, half a dozen of us, with a lantern, and wentalong the road he had taken; we went almost to Heath's cottage, lookingall about the road as we went. When we did not find him, we concludedthat he had gone straight home, and that if we staid out longer thelaugh would be on us. So we went back, and agreed to say nothing aboutthe matter to Burrill when we should see him. "

"How near did you come to Doctor Heath's house?"

"Very near, sir; almost as near as we are now. "

"But you were in the opposite direction. "

"Just so, sir; we came from the town. "

"Did you hear any movements; any sounds of any sort?"

"Nothing particular, sir; we were making some noise ourselves. "

"Did you meet any one, either going or coming?"

"No, sir; but a man might easily have passed us in the dark on the otherside of the road. "

Five men confirm Rooney's statement, and every word weighs like leadagainst Clifford Heath. 

John Burrill left the saloon to go to Doctor Heath's house; in drunkenbravado, he would go at night to disturb and annoy the man who had, twice, in public, chastised him, and on both occasions uttered a threatand a warning; unheeding these, he had gone to brave the man who hadwarned him against an approach--and he has never been seen alive since;he has been found dead, murdered, hidden away near the house of the manwho had said: "If he ever should cross my path, rest assured I shallknow how to dispose of him. "

These words distinctly remembered by all three of the women whowitnessed the rescue in Nance Burrill's house, are repeated by each onein turn, and the entire scene is rehearsed. 

Nance Burrill is called upon, and just as she comes forward, Mr. Lamottebeckons the coroner, and whispers a few words in his ear. The coronernods, and returns to his place. Nance Burrill is sworn, and all listeneagerly, expecting to hear her rehearse the story of her life asconnected with that of the dead man. But all are doomed todisappointment. She tells the story of the rescue in her cottage, muchas did the others; she repeats the words of Clifford Heath, as did theothers, and she turns back to her friends, leaving the case against theman who had been her champion, darker than before. 

Raymond Vandyck is called; he does not stir from his position beside hisfriend, and his face wears a look of defiant stubbornness. 

"Ray, " says Clifford Heath, quietly, "your silence would be construedagainst me; go forward and tell the whole truth. "

Then he obeys the summons; but the truth has to be drawn from him byhard labor; he will not help them to a single fact. For example:

"What do you know concerning this case?"

"Nothing, " he says, shortly. 

"Did you know that man, " pointing to the body of Burrill; "in his life. "

"I had not that honor. "

"Ah--you have seen him. "

"I believe so, " indifferently. 

"You can't swear to the fact, then?"

"I knew him better by reputation, than by sight. "

The coroner wiggled, uneasily. 

"You are a friend to Doctor Heath?"

"I am, " promptly. 

"Please relate what you know of his--difference with Mr. Burrill?"

"What I--_know_. "

"Yes, sir. "

"Why, I don't exactly _know_ anything"

"Why, sir, did you not witness a meeting between the two?"

"I--suppose so. "

"You suppose!"

"Well, I can't _swear_ that the man I saw knocked down, if that is whatyou mean, was Burrill; it was night, and I did not see his faceclearly. "

"You believed it to be Burrill?"

"Yes. "

"Dr. Heath so believed?"

"I don't know. "

More uneasiness on the part of the coroner. 

"Please state what Doctor Heath said to the man he knocked down?"

"Well, I can't repeat the exact words. He said what any one would havesaid under the circumstances. "

"Ah! what were the circumstances?"

"The fellow was half drunk. He approached Dr. Heath in a coarse andoffensive manner. "

"Was his language offensive?"

"I didn't hear what he said. "

"Did you hear what Dr. Heath said?"

"I did. "

"You heard it distinctly?"

"Quite. "

"Ah!" smiling triumphantly. "Then you _can_ give us his words?"

"Not _verbatim_. "

"Give us his meaning, then. "

"His meaning, as nearly as I could understand it, was this: He wouldallow no man to insult him or to meddle with his affairs, and hefinished with something like this: 'Keep my name off your lips, whereveryou are, if you want whole bones in your skin. '"

"He said that?"

"Well, something like that; I may have put it too strong. "

"Do you remember what Dr. Heath said by way of comment on the affair?"

"One of the men picked the fellow by the sleeve, and said, 'Come out ofthat, Burrill!' and then Heath turned to me and asked, 'Who the deuce isBurrill?'"

"And your reply?"

"I said--" stopping a moment and turning his eyes upon the twoLamottes--"I said, 'He is Jasper Lamotte's son-in-law. '"

"And then, sir?"

"Then Dr. Heath made about the same sort of comment others have madebefore him--something to the effect that Mr. Lamotte had made a veryremarkable choice. "

"Mr. Vandyck, " says the coroner severely, "it seems to me that yourmemory is singularly lucid on some points, and deficient on others ofmore importance. "

"That's a fact, sir, " with cheerful humility. "I'm always that way. "

"Ah!" with an excess of dignity. "Mr. Vandyck, I won't tax your memoryfurther. "

Ray turns away, looking as if, having done his duty, he might evensurvive the coroner's frown, and as he moves again to the side of thesuspected man, some one in the audience above, a portly gentleman, witha diamond shining on his immaculate breast, makes this mental comment:"There is a witness who has withheld more than he has told. " And heregisters the name of Raymond Vandyck upon his memory. 

This is the last witness. 

While the jurymen stand aside to deliberate, there is a buzz and murmuramong the people up above, and profound quiet below. Attention isdivided between the gentlemen of the jury and Clifford Heath. The formerare very much agitated. They look troubled, uneasy and uncomfortable. They gesticulate rapidly and with a variety of movements that would beludicrous were the occasion less solemn, the issue less than a man'slife and honor. 

Finally the verdict is reached, and is pronounced:

The coroner's jury "find, after due deliberation, that John Burrill cameto his death by two dagger, or knife strokes from the hand of Dr. Clifford Heath. "

The accused, who, during the entire scene, has stood as immovable as thesphynx, and has not once been startled, disturbed, or surprised from hiscalm by anything that has been brought forward by the numerouswitnesses, lifts his head proudly; lifts his hat, too, with a courtlygesture, to the gentlemen of the jury, that may mean total exonerationfrom blame, so far as they are concerned, or a haughty defiance, andthen, after one sweeping glance around the assembly, a glance whichturns for an instant upon the faces of the Lamottes, he beckons to theconstable; beckons with a gesture that is obeyed as if it were acommand. 

"Corliss, " he says, just as he would say--"give the patient a hot drinkand two powders. " "Corliss, I suppose you won't want to lose sight ofme, since I have suddenly become public property. Come with me, if youplease; I am going home; then--I am at _your_ service. "

And without more words, without let or hindrance, without so much as amurmur of disapproval, he lifts himself out of the cellar, and walks, ata moderate pace, and with firm aspect, toward his cottage, closelyfollowed by Corliss, who looks, for the first time, in his officialcareer, as if he would gladly be a simple private citizen, at thatmoment. 

The coroner's inquest is over; there remains now nothing save to removethe body to a more suitable resting place, and to disperse. 

Jasper Lamotte moves about, giving short orders in a low tone. He ispallid and visibly nervous. If it were his own son who lay there intheir midst, stiff and cold, and saturated with his own blood, he couldscarcely appear more agitated, more shocked and sorrowful. He is reallyshocked; really sorry; he actually regrets the loss of this man, whomust have been a constant crucifixion to his pride. 

This is what they whisper among themselves, as they gather in knots andfurtively watch him, as he moves about the bier. 

It has been a shock to Frank Lamotte, too, although he never had seemedto crave the society of his brother-in-law, and always turned away fromany mention of his name, with a sneer. 

Two men, who withdraw quickly from the crowd, are Lawyer O'Meara and RayVandyck. As they come up out of the cellar and go out from the hatefulplace, Ray breaks into bitter invective; but O'Meara lays a firm handupon his arm. 

"Hold your impulsive tongue, you young scamp! Do you want to beimpeached for a prejudiced witness? You want to help Heath, not to hurthim; and let me tell you, he will need strong friends and shrewdhelpers, before we see him a free man again. "

Ray grinds out something profane, and then paces on in wrathful silence. 

"You are right, of course, " he says, after a moment's pause, and in acalmer tone. "But, good God! to bring such a charge against Heath, ofall men! O'Meara, " suddenly, "you must defend him. "

"I intend to, " grimly. "And in his interest I want to see you as soon asthe vicinity is quiet; we must think the matter over and then seeHeath. "

"Heath puzzles me; he's strangely apathetic. "

"He'll puzzle you more yet, I'm thinking. I half think he knows who didthe deed, and don't intend to tell. " He pauses, having come to the placewhere their ways diverge. "Come around by dark, Vandyck, we can't loseany time, that is if the buzzards are out of the way. "

"The buzzards will follow the carrion, " scornfully. "I'll be on hand, Mr. O'Meara. "

He goes on, looking longingly at Clifford Heath's cottage, as he passesthe gate, and the little lawyer begins to pick his way across the muddystreet, not caring to go on to the proper crossing. 

"Mr. O'Meara. "

He turns nervously, to encounter the gaze of a large gentleman with arosy face, curling, iron-gray hair, and beard, and a blazing diamond inhis shirt front. 

"Eh! sir; you addressed me?"

"I did, " replies the gentleman, in a low, energetic tone, strangely atvariance with his general appearance, at the same time coming close andgrasping the lawyer's hand with great show of cordiality, and before theastounded little man can realize what he is about. "Call me Wedron, sir, Wedron, ahem, of the New York Bar. I must have an interview with you, sir, and at once. "

O'Meara draws back and replies rather frigidly:

"I am glad to know you, sir; but if your business is not too urgent--ifanother time will do--"

"Another time will _not_ do? my business concerns Clifford Heath. "

"Then, sir, I am at your service. "

CHAPTER XXX. 

AN OBSTINATE CLIENT. 

"There, sir; I think we understand each other, sir. "

"Humph! well, that's according to how you put it. My knowledge issufficient unto the day, at any rate. I am to visit Heath at once, taking young Vandyck with me; I am to insist upon his making a strongdefence, and to watch him closely. Vandyck is to add his voice, andhe'll do it with a roar, and then we are to report to you. Is that it?"

"Exactly. "

The speakers are Lawyer O'Meara and "Mr. Wedron, of the New York Bar;"for more than an hour they have been seated in the lawyer's study, conversing in low, earnest tones; and during this interval, O'Meara'svaluation of his _vis-ŕ-vis_ has evidently "taken a rise, " and standsnow at a high premium. His spirits have risen, too; he views the case ofClifford Heath through a new lens; evidently he recognizes, in the manbefore him, a strong ally. 

It is arranged that, for the present, Mr. Wedron shall retain his roomat the hotel, but shall pass the most of his time with the O'Mearas, andthe uninitiated are to fancy him an old friend, as well as a brotherpractitioner. Even Mrs. O'Meara is obliged to accept this version, whileinwardly wondering that she has never heard her husband mention hisfriend, "Wedron, of the New York Bar. "

Evidently they trust each other, these two men, and, as O'Meara has justsaid, their mutual understanding is sufficient unto the hour. Therefore, it being already sunset, they go together to the parlor, and are soonseated, in company with Mrs. O'Meara, about a cosy tea table. 

"It is best that Vandyck should not see me here until after yourinterview with Heath, " Mr. Wedron has said to the little lawyer;therefore when, a little later, Ray puts in an appearance, he sees onlyO'Meara, and is immediately hurried away toward the county jail. 

They find Corliss at the sheriff's desk, his superior officer havingbeen for several days absent from the town. The constable looks relievedand fatigued. He believes that within the hour he, single handed, hasconveyed into safe custody one of the most ferocious assassins of histime; and, having gained so signal a victory, he now feels inclined totake upon himself airs, and he hesitates, becomingly, over O'Meara'scivilly worded request to be shown to the cell assigned Doctor Heath. 

[Illustration: They find Corliss at the Sheriff's desk. ]

But O'Meara, who possesses all the brusqueness of the average Yankeelawyer, has no mind to argue the case. 

"I don't know, sir, " says Corliss, with some pomposity. "Really, Iconsider Heath a very unsafe prisoner, and--"

"The deuce you do, " breaks in the impatient lawyer. "Well, I'll promisethat _Doctor_ Heath shan't damage you any, so just trot ahead with yourkeys, and don't parley. _My_ time is worth something. "

Corliss slips down from his stool and looks at Ray. 

"But Mr. Vandyck, sir?" he begins. 

"Mr. Vandyck will see Doctor Heath too, sir, " interrupts Ray, with muchdecision. "And you won't find it to your interest, Corliss, to hunt uptoo many scruples. "

It filters into the head of the constable that the wealthiest and mostpopular of W----'s lawyers, and the bondsman and firm friend of theabsent sheriff, are hardly the men to baffle, and so, for the safety ofhis own official head, he takes his keys and conducts them to DoctorHeath. 

The jail is new and clean and comfortable, more than can be said of manyin our land, and the prisoner has a cell that is fairly lighted, and notconstructed on the suffocation plan. 

They find him sitting by his small table, his head resting upon hishand, his eyes fixed upon the floor, seemingly lost in thought. Evidently he is glad to see his visitors, for a smile breaks over hisface as he rises to greet them. 

It is not a time for commonplaces, and O'Meara, who sees that time is ofvalue, is in no mood for a prologue to his task; so he begins at theright place. 

"Heath, I'm sorry enough that you, almost a stranger among us, should besingled out as a victim in this case. It don't speak well for thejudgment of our citizens. However, we are bound to set you right, andI've come to say that I shall esteem it a privilege to defend you--thatis, if you have not a more able friend to depend upon. "

The prisoner smiles as he replies:

"You are very good, O'Meara, and you are the man I should choose todefend me; but--you will have to build your case; I can't make one foryou, and--you heard the evidence. "

"Hang the evidence!" cries the lawyer, drawing from his pocket a smallnote book. 

"We'll settle their evidence; just you give me a few items ofinformation, and then I will let Vandyck talk; he wants to, terribly. "

The prisoner turns slowly in his chair, and looks steadfastly first atone, then at the other, and then he says:

"Do you really believe, O'Meara, that I had no hand in this murder?"

"I do, " emphatically. 

"And you, Ray?"

"I! You deserve to be kicked for asking. I'll tell _just_ what I_think_, a little later; I know you didn't kill Burrill. "

Clifford Heath withdraws his gaze from the faces of his visitors, andseems to hesitate; then he says slowly:

"I am deeply grateful for your confidence in me; but, I fear my actionsmust belie my words. My friends, the evidence is more than I cancombat. I can't prove an _alibi_; and there's no other way to clearmyself. "

"Bah!" retorts O'Meara; "there are several ways. Let us take the groundthat you are innocent; there must then be some one upon whom to fastenthe guilt. You have an enemy; some one has stolen your handkerchief andyour knife. Who is that enemy? Whom do you suspect?"

The prisoner shook his head. "I shall accuse no one, " he said, briefly. 

"What!" burst out Ray Vandyck; "you will not hunt down your enemy? Thisis too much! Heath, I believe you could put your hand on the assassin. "

No reply from the prisoner; he sits with his head bowed upon his hand, alook of dogged resolution upon his face. 

"Vandyck, " says the little lawyer, who has been gazing fixedly at hisobstinate client, and who now turns two keen eyes upon the excited Ray;"keep cool! keep cool, my lad! Heath, look here, sir, I'm bound todefend your case--do you object to that?"

"On the contrary, O'Meara, you are my only hope; but, your success mustdepend upon your own shrewdness. I can't give you any help. "

Down went something in the lawyer's note book. 

"That means you won't give me any help, " writing briskly. 

"It's an ungracious way of putting it, " smiling slightly; "but--that'sabout the way it stands. "

"Just so, " writing still; "you believe the handkerchief to have beenyours?"

"Yes. "

"And the knife?"

"Yes. Stay, send Corliss with some one else, to my office; let themexamine my case of instruments, and see if the knife is among them;this, for form's sake. "

"It shall be attended to--for form's sake. Heath, who beside yourselfhad access to your office?"

"My office was insecurely locked; any one might easily force anentrance, and a common key would open my door. "

Scratch, scratch; the lawyer seems not to notice the doctor's evasion ofthe question. 

"Ahem! As your lawyer, Heath, is there any truth in these stories abouta previous knowledge of Burrill?"

"Do you mean _my_ previous knowledge of the man?"

"Yes. "

"I never knew the fellow; never saw him until I knocked him down in hisfirst wife's defence. "

"Yet, he claimed to know you. "

"So I am told. "

"And you don't know _where_ he may have seen you?"

"All I know, you have heard in the evidence given to-day. "

"And--" hesitating slightly; "is there nothing in your past life thatmight weigh in your favor; nothing that will give the lie to thesehints so industriously scattered by Burrill?"

"O'Meara, let us understand each other; your question means this: Do Iintend, now that this crisis has come, to make public, for the benefitof W----, the facts concerning my life previous to my coming here as aresident? My answer must be this, and again I must give you reason tothink me ungracious, ungrateful. There is nothing in my past that couldhelp me in this present emergency; there is no one who could comeforward to my assistance. I have not in all America one friend who is sowell known to me, or who knows me as well as Vandyck here, or yourself. I can not drag to light any of the events of my past life; on thecontrary, I must redouble my efforts to keep that past a mystery. "

Utter silence in the cell. The lawyer's pencil travels on--scratch, scratch, scratch. Ray sits moody and troubled of aspect. Doctor Heathlooks with some curiosity upon the movements of the little lawyer, andinwardly wonders at his coolness. He has expected expostulation, indignation; has even fancied that his obstinate refusal to lend hisfriends any assistance may alienate them from his case, leaving him toface his fate alone. He sees how Vandyck is chafing, but he is puzzledby the little lawyer's phlegmatic acceptance of the situation. 

Presently, the lawyer looks up, snaps his note book together with aquick movement, and then stows it away carefully in his breast pocket. 

"Umph!" he begins, raising the five fingers of his right hand andchecking off his items with the pencil which he has transferred to theleft. "Umph! Then your case stands like this, my friend: A man is founddead near your premises; a handkerchief bearing your name covers hisface; a knife supposed to belong to you is with the body. You are knownto have differed with this man; you have knocked him down; you havethreatened him in the public streets. You are a stranger to W----. Thismurdered man claimed to know something to your disadvantage. He is knownto have set out for your house; he is found soon after, as I have said, dead. You acknowledge the knife and handkerchief to be yours; you canoffer no _alibi_, you can rebut none of the testimony. You refuse totell aught concerning your past life. That's a fine case, now; don't youthink so?"

"It's a worthless case for you, O'Meara. You had better leave me tofight my own battles. "

"Umph! I'm going to leave you for the present; but this battle may turnout to be not entirely your property, my friend. Since you won't helpme, I won't disturb you farther. Come along, Vandyck. "

Young Vandyck began at once to expostulate, to entreat, to argue; butthe little lawyer cut short the tide of his eloquence. 

"Vandyck, be quiet! Can't you let a gentleman hang himself, if he seesfit? No, I see you can't; it's against your nature. Well, come along; wewill see if we can't outwit this would-be suicide, and the hangman, too. " And he fairly forces poor, bewildered Ray from the room. Then, turning again toward his uncommunicative client, he says:

"Oh, I'll attend to that knife business at once, Heath, and let you hearthe result. "

"Stop a moment, O'Meara. There is one thing I can say, and thatis, --have the wounds in that body examined at once. As nearly as I couldobserve, without a closer scrutiny, the knife that killed was not theknife found with the body. It was a smaller, narrower bladed knife;and--if an expert examines that knife, the one found, he will besatisfied that it has never entered any body, animal or human. The_point_ has never been dipped in blood. "

"Oh! ho!" cries O'Meara, rubbing his hands together briskly. "So! we arewaking up! why didn't you mention all this before? But there's timeenough! time enough yet. I'll have the body examined; and by the bestsurgeons, sir; and I'll see you to-morrow, _early_; good evening, Heath. "

"I'm blessed if I understand all this, " burst out Ray Vandyck, when theyhad gained the street. "Here you have kept me with my mouth stopped allthrough this queer confab. I want a little light on this subject. Whatthe deuce ails Heath, that he won't lift his voice to defend himself?And what the mischief do you let him throw away his best chances for? Inever heard of such foolhardiness. "

"Young man, " retorts the little lawyer, with a queer smile upon hisface, "just at present I have got no use for that tongue of yours. Youmay be all eyes and ears, the more the better; but, I'm going to includeyou in a very important private consultation; and, _don't you open yourmouth_ until somebody asks you to; and then mind you get it open quickenough and wide enough. "

CHAPTER XXXI. 

BEGINNING THE INVESTIGATION. 

"Well!"

It is Mr. Wedron, of the New York Bar, who utters this monosyllable. Hesits at the library table in the little lawyer's sanctum; opposite himis his host, and a little farther away, stands Ray Vandyck; a living, breathing, gloomy faced but mute interrogation point. He has just beenintroduced to Mr. Wedron, and he is anxiously waiting to hear how thesetwo men propose to save from the gallows, a man who will make no effortto save himself. 

"Well!" repeats Mr. Wedron, "you have seen the prisoner?"

"We have seen him. "

"And the result?"

"Was what you predicted. See, here in my note book, I have his verywords; you can judge for yourself. "

O'Meara passes his note book across to his questioner, and the latterreads rapidly, the short sentences scrawled by his host. 

"So, " he says, lifting his eyes from the note book. "Doctor Heathrefuses to defend himself. Mr. Vandyck, " turning suddenly upon Ray, "sitdown, sir; draw your chair up here; I wish to look at you, sir. "

Not a little astonished, but obeying orders like a veteran, Ray compliesmutely. 

"Now then, " says Mr. Wedron, with brisk good nature, "let's get down tobusiness. Mr. Vandyck, I am here to save Clifford Heath; I was at theinquest; I have had long experience in this sort of business, and Iarrive at my conclusions rapidly, after a way of my own. O'Meara, prepare to write a synopsis of our reasonings. "

"Of _your_ reasonings, " corrects the lawyer, drawing pen and papertoward himself. 

"Of my reasonings then. First; are you ready, O'Meara?"

"All ready. "

"Well, then; and don't stop to be astonished at anything I may say. First, Clifford Heath knows who stole his handkerchief; and who stolehis knife. "

A grunt of approbation from O'Meara; a stare of astonishment from Ray. 

"For some reason, Heath has resolved to screen the thief. " Scratch, scratch. "But he does not feel at all sure that the one who stole hisbelongings is the one who struck the blow. "

Ray stares in astonishment. 

"Now then, there has been a plot on foot against Heath, and I believehim to have been aware of it. " He is looking at Ray, and that young manstarts guiltily. 

"Put down this, O'Meara, " says Mr. Wedron, suddenly withdrawing hisgaze. "Doctor Heath has nothing to blush for, in his past. He withholdshis story through pride, not through fear; but it may be necessary totell it in court, in order to prove that he _did not_ know John Burrillprevious to the meeting in Nance Burrill's cottage; and if he refuses totell his story, _I_ must tell it for him. "

It is O'Meara's turn to be surprised, and he writes on with eager eyesand bated breath. 

"And now, O'Meara, " concludes Mr. Wedron, "there were two parties swornto-day, who did not tell all they knew concerning this affair. Onewas--Mr. Francis Lamotte. "

Ray breathes again. 

"The other was--Mr. Raymond Vandyck. "

Ray colors hotly, and half starts up from his seat. O'Meara lays downhis pen, and stares across at his contemporary, but that individualproceeds with unruffled serenity. 

"Mr. Vandyck did not tell all that he knows, because he feared that insome way his testimony might be turned against Clifford Heath. Here hecan have no such scruples. Our first step in this case, must be to findout _who_ Clifford Heath suspects; and why he will not denounce him. "

"And that bids fair to be a tough undertaking, " says O'Meara. 

"Not at all, Mr. O'Meara. I expect that this young man can give us allthe help we need. "

"I, " burst out Ray. "You mistake, sir; I can not help you. "

"Softly, sir; softly; reflect a little, this is no time for over-nicescruples; besides, I know too much already. We three are here to helpClifford Heath. Mr. Vandyck, can you not trust to our discretion; youmay be able, unknown to yourself, to speak the word that will free yourfriend from the foulest charge that was ever preferred against a man. Will you answer my questions frankly, or--must we set detectives to huntfor the information you could so easily give?"

[Illustration: "Softly, Sir; softly; reflect a little. "]

The calm, resolute tones of the stranger have their weight with themystified Ray. Instinctively he feels the power of the man, and theweight of the argument. 

"What do you wish to know, sir?" he says, quietly. "I am ready to serveClifford Heath. "

"Ah, very good;" signing to O'Meara. "First, sir, as a friend of DoctorHeath, do you know if he has recently had any trouble, anydisappointment? He is a young man. Has he been jilted, or--"

"Ah-h-h!" breaks in O'Meara; "why didn't you ask _me_ that, Wedron? Uponmy soul, I have heard plenty about this same business. "

"Then take the witness stand, sir. What do you know? _You_ won't be overdelicate in bringing facts to the surface. "

"Why, " rubbing his hands serenely, "I can't see your drift, Wedron, anymore than can Vandyck here; but I have heard Mrs. O'Meara discuss theprobable future of Clifford Heath, until I have it by heart. Not longago she was sure he, Heath, was in love with Miss Wardour, and we allthought she rather favored him, although it's hard to guess at a woman'sreal feelings. Later, quite lately, in fact, the thing seemed to be alloff, and my wife has commented on it not a little. "

"Oh!" ejaculates Mr. Wedron. "And--had Doctor Heath any rivals?"

"Miss Wardour has always plenty of lovers; but I believe that Mr. FrankLamotte was the only rival he ever had any reason to fear. "

"Ah! so Mr. Frank Lamotte has been Heath's rival? Handsome fellow, thatLamotte! Mr. Vandyck, " turning suddenly upon Ray, "the ice is nowbroken. What do you know, or think, or believe, about this attachment toMiss Wardour?"

"I think that Heath really hoped to win her at one time, and I believedhis chances were good. Something, I don't know what, has come betweenthem. "

"Do you think she has refused him?"

"Honestly, I don't, sir. I think there is a misunderstanding. "

"And young Lamotte, what of him?"

"I suppose he has come in ahead; in fact, have very good cause forthinking him engaged to Miss Wardour. "

"Bah!" cries O'Meara, contemptuously, "I don't believe it. There'snothing sly about Constance. She would have told me or my wife. "

"I'll tell you my reasons for saying this, gentlemen, " says Ray, after amoment's hesitation. "I'll tell you all I can about the business. Sometime ago, shortly after Heath's last encounter with Burrill, I came intotown one day to keep an appointment with him. "

"Stay! Can you recall the date?"

"It was on Monday, I believe, and early in the month. "

"Go on. "

"I met one of the Wardour servants, who gave me a note. It was a requestthat I wait upon Miss Wardour at once; she wished to consult me on someprivate matters. Miss Wardour and I, you must understand, are very oldfriends. "

"Yes, yes; go on. "

"I excused myself to Heath, and, just as I was leaving the office, Lamotte came in. He challenged me, in badinage, as though he had a rightto say who should visit Wardour. He overheard me telling Heath where Iwas going. "

"Yes. "

"During my call, I made some allusion to Lamotte, speaking of him as heraccepted lover. She did not deny the charge my language implied, and Icame away believing her engaged to Lamotte. When I returned to Heath'soffice, Lamotte had gone, and Heath asked me, rather abruptly, if Ibelieved Miss Wardour would marry Lamotte. I replied, that I did believeit then, for the first time. "

"Ah, yes! Mr. Vandyck, are you aware that on this same day, this Mondayof which you speak, Clifford Heath received an anonymous note, in afeminine hand; warning him against danger, and begging him to leavetown?"

"What, sir?" starting and coloring, hotly. 

"Ah, you are aware of that fact. Did you see that note, Mr. Vandyck?"

"I did, " uneasily. 

"How did Heath treat it?"

"With utter indifference. "

"So! And did he, to your knowledge, receive other warnings?"

"I am quite sure he did not. "

"During your call at Wardour Place, did Miss Wardour mention DoctorHeath. "

"She--did, " reluctantly. 

"She _did_. Can you recall what was said. "

"It was soon after that street encounter with Burrill. I related thecircumstance; she had not heard of it. "

"And did she seem unfriendly toward Heath?"

"On the contrary I think she was, and is, his friend. "

"You met Lamotte in Heath's office. Does Lamotte go there often?"

"Why, he made a pretence of studying with Heath; but he never stuck veryclose to anything; he had read a little in the city, I believe. "

"Then he is quite at home in Heath's office?"

"Quite at home. "

"Thank you, Mr. Vandyck. " Mr. Wedron draws back from the table andsmiles blandly upon poor Ray. "Thank you, sir. You are an admirablewitness; for the second time to-day you have evaded leading questions, and withheld more than you have told. But I won't bear malice. I seethat you are resolved not to tell why Miss Wardour summoned you to herpresence on that particular day; so, I won't insist upon it--I will findout in some other way. "

"Thank you, " retorts Ray, rather stiffly. "It will be a relief to me, ifyou can do so. Can I answer any more questions, sir?"

"Not to-night. And, Mr. Vandyck, as a friend of Clifford Heath's, we askyou to help us, and to share our confidence. Now, we must find outfirst, if Constance Wardour _is_ engaged to Lamotte; and second, thecause of the estrangement between herself and Doctor Heath. Can yousuggest a plan?"

"Yes, " replies Ray, a smile breaking over his face. "Send for Mrs. Aliston, and question her as you have me. "

"Good!" cries Mr. Wedron. "_Excellent!_"

CHAPTER XXXII. 

AN APPEAL TO THE WARDOUR HONOR. 

During the night that saw Sybil Burrill's reason give way under thelong, horrible strain, that had borne upon it; the night that witnessedthe downfall of Frank Lamotte's cherished hopes, and closed the earthlycareer of John Burrill; Mrs. Lamotte and Mrs. Aliston hovered over thebed where lay Sybil, now tossing in delirium, now sinking intoinsensibility. Early in the evening, Dr. Heath had been summoned, and hehad responded promptly to Mrs. Lamotte's eager call. 

They could do little, just then, save to administer opiates; he toldthem there was every symptom of brain fever; by to-morrow he would knowwhat course of treatment to pursue; until then, keep the patient quiet, humor all her whims, so far as was possible; give her no stimulants, and, if there was any marked change, send for him at once. 

The two anxious women hung upon his words; afterward, they bothremembered how cheerful, how brave and strong he had seemed that night;how gentle his voice was; how kindly his glance; how soothing andreassuring his manner. 

In the gray of the morning, Sybil dropped into one of her lethargiesafter hours of uneasy mutterings, that would have been mad ravings, butfor the doctor's powerful opiate; and then, after a word combat withMrs. Lamotte, just such an argument as has occurred by hundreds of sickbeds, where two weary, anxious watchers vie with each other for theplace beside the bed, and the right to watch in weariness, while theother rests; after such an argument, Mrs. Aliston yielded to thesolicitations of her hostess, and withdrew, to refresh herself with alittle sleep. 

The vigil had been an unusual one, and Mrs. Aliston was very weary. Nosound disturbed the quiet of the elegant guest chamber where she lay;and so it happened that a brisk rapping at her door; at ten o'clock inthe morning, awoke her from heavy, dreamless slumber, and set herwandering wits to wondering vaguely what all this strangeness meant. Then suddenly recalling the events of the previous night, she sat up inbed and called out:

"Who is there?"

"It's ten o'clock, madam, " replied the voice of Mrs. Lamotte's maid;"and will you have breakfast in your room, or in the dining room?"

Slipping slowly out from the downy bed, Mrs. Aliston crossed to thedoor, and peering out at the servant, said:

"I will breakfast here, Ellen. How is Sybil?"

"She is worse, I think, madam, and Mrs. Lamotte is very uneasy; I thinkshe wishes to speak with you, or she would not have had you wakened. "

"Tell her I will come to her at once;" and Mrs. Aliston closed the doorand began a hurried toilet; before it was completed, Mrs. Lamotteherself appeared; she was pale and heavy eyed, and seemed much agitated. 

"Pardon my intrusion, " she began, hurriedly; "I am uneasy about Sybil;she is growing very restless, and for more than an hour has calledunceasingly for Constance. Do you think your niece would come to us thismorning? Her strong, cool nerves might have some influence upon poorSybil. "

"I am sure she will come, " replied Mrs. Aliston, warmly "and without amoment's delay. I will drive home at once, Mrs. Lamotte, and sendConstance back. "

"Not until you have had breakfast, Mrs. Aliston. And how can I thank youfor your goodness, and your help, during the past horrible night?"

"By saying nothing at all about it, my dear, and by ordering thecarriage the moment I have swallowed a cup of coffee, " replied thegood-hearted soul, cheerily. "I hope and trust that Sybil will recoververy soon; but if she grows worse, you must let me help you all I can. "

Half an hour later the Lamotte carriage rolled swiftly across the bridgeand towards Wardour; and so Mrs. Aliston, for the time at least, wasspared the shock that fell upon the house of Mapleton, scarce fifteenminutes later, the news of John Burrill's murder, and the finding of thebody. 

Little more than an hour later, Constance Wardour sprang from thecarriage at the door of Mapleton, and ran hurriedly up the broad steps. The outer door stood wide open, and a group of servants were huddledabout the door of the drawing room, with pale, affrighted faces, andpanic-stricken manner. 

Seeing them, Constance at once takes the alarm. Sybil must be worse;must be very ill indeed. Instantly the question rises to her lips:

"Is Sybil--is Mrs. Burrill worse?" and then she hears the startlingtruth. 

"John Burrill is dead. John Burrill has been murdered. " In bewilderment, in amazement, she hears all there is to tell, all that the servantsknow. A messenger came, telling only the bare facts. John Burrill's bodyhas been found in an old cellar; Frank has just gone, riding like amadman, to see that the body is cared for, and to bring it home. Mrs. Lamotte has been told the horrible news; has received it like an icicle;has ordered them to prepare the drawing room for the reception of thebody, and has gone back to her daughter. 

All this Constance hears, and then, strangely startled, and vaguelythankful that Frank is not in the house, she goes up to the sick room. Mrs. Lamotte rises to greet her, with a look upon her face that startlesConstance, even more than did the news she has just heard below stairs. 

Intense feeling has been for so long frozen out of that high-bred, haughty face, that the look of the eyes, the compression of the lips, the fear and horror of the entire countenance, amount almost to atransfiguration. 

She draws Constance away from the bed, and into the dressing roombeyond. Then, in a voice husky with suppressed emotion, she addressesher as follows:

"Constance Wardour, I am about to place my honor, my daughter's life, the honor of all my family, in your hands. There is not another livingbeing in whom to trust, and I must trust some one. I must, for mychild's sake, have relief, or _my_ reason, too, will desert me. Constance, that sick room holds a terrible secret--Sybil's secret. Ifyou can share it with me, for Sybil's sake, I will try to brave thistempest, as I have braved others; if you refuse"--she paused a moment, and then whispered fiercely:

"If you refuse, I will lock that chamber door, and Sybil Lamotte shalldie in her delirium before I will allow an ear that I can not trust, within those walls, or the hand of a possible enemy to administer onelife-saving draught. "

[Illustration: "Sybil Lamotte shall die in her delirium. "]

Over the face of Constance Wardour crept a look of horror indescribable. In an instant her mind is illuminated, and all the fearful meaning ofMrs. Lamotte's strange words, is grasped and mastered. She reels as ifstruck by a heavy hand, and a low moan breaks from her lips. So long shestands thus, mute and awe-stricken, that Mrs. Lamotte can bear thestrain of suspense no longer. 

"For God's sake, speak, " she gasps; "there have been those of your racewho could not abandon a fallen friend. "

Over the cheek, and neck, and brow, the hot, proud, loyal Wardour blood, comes surging. The gray eyes lift themselves with a proud flash; low andfirm comes the answer:

"The Wardours were never Summer friends. Sybil has been as a sister, inprosperity; I shall be no less than a sister now. You may trust me asyou would yourself; and--I am very glad you sent for me, and trusted noother. "

"God bless you, Constance! No one else _can_ be trusted. With your helpI must do this work alone. "

Then comes a cry from the sick room; they go back, and Constance entersat once upon her new, strange task. Her heart heavy; her hand firm; herears smitten by the babbling recitation of that awful secret; and herlips sealed with the seal of the Wardour honor. 

All that day she is at her post. Mrs. Lamotte, who is resolved to retainher strength for Sybil's sake, lies down in the dressing room and sleepsfrom sheer exhaustion. 

As the day wears on there is movement and bustle down stairs, they arebringing in the body of the murdered man. The undertaker goes about hiswork with pompous air, and solemn visage; and when darkness falls, JohnBurrill's lifeless form lies in state in the drawing room of Mapleton, that room over the splendors of which his plebeian soul has gloated, hiscovetous eyes feasted and his ambitious bosom swelled with a sense ofproprietorship. He is clothed in finest broadcloth, surrounded withcostly trappings; but not one tear falls over him; not one heart grievesfor him; not one tongue utters a word of sorrow or regret; he hasschemed and sinned, to become a member of the aristocracy, to allyhimself to the proud Lamottes; and to-night, one and all of theLamottes, breathe the freer, because his breathing has forever ceased. Even Constance Wardour has no pitying thought for the dead man; shekeeps aloof from the drawing room, shuddering when compelled to pass itsclosed doors; living, John Burrill was odious to her; dead, he isloathsome. 

The day passes, and Doctor Heath does not visit his patient. Atintervals during the long afternoon, they have discussed the question, "What shall we do to keep the patient quiet when the doctor comes?"

It is Constance who solves the problem. 

"We must send for Doctor Benoit, Mrs. Lamotte; Doctor Heath's tardinesswill furnish sufficient excuse, and Doctor Benoit's partial deafnesswill render him our safest physician. "

It is a happy thought; Doctor Benoit is old, and partially deaf, but heis a thoroughly good and reliable physician. 

Late that night, Jasper Lamotte applies for admittance at the door ofhis daughter's sick room. Constance opens the door softly, and as hiseyes fall upon her, she fancies that a look of fierce hatred gleams ather for a moment from those sunken orbs and darkens his haggardcountenance. Of course it is only a fancy. In another moment he isasking after his daughter, with grave solicitude. 

"She is quiet; she must not be disturbed;" so Constance tells him. Andhe glides away softly, murmuring his gratitude to his daughter's friend, as he goes. 

It is midnight at Mapleton; in Sybil Lamotte's room the lights burndimly, and Mrs. Lamotte and Constance sit near the bed, listening, withsad, set faces, to the ravings of the delirious girl. 

"Ha! ha!" she cries, tossing her bare arms aloft. "How well you plannedthat, Constance! the Wardour diamonds; ah, they are worth keeping, theyare worth plotting to keep--and it's often done--it's easy to do. Hush!Mr. Belknap, I need your help--meet me, meet me to-night, at the boathouse. If a man were to disappear, never to come back, mind--what wouldI give? One thousand dollars! two! three! It shall be done! I shall befree! free! _free!_ Ha! ha! Constance, your diamonds are safer thanmine--but what are diamonds--I shall live a lie--let me adorn myselfwith lies. Why not? Why care? I will be free. You have been the tool ofothers, Mr. Belknap, why hesitate to serve me--you want money--here itis, half of it--when it is done, when I _know_ it is done, I will comehere again--at night--and the rest is yours. "

With a stifled moan, Mrs. Lamotte leans forward, and lays a hand uponher companion's arm. 

"Constance--do you know what she means?"

Slowly and shudderingly, the girl answers:

"I fear--that I know too well. "

"And--that boat-house appointment?"

"Must be kept, Mrs. Lamotte; for Sybil's sake, it must be kept, _by youor me_. "

It is midnight. In Evan Lamotte's room lamps are burning brightly, andthe fumes of strong liquor fill the air. On the bed lies Evan, withflushed face, and mud bespattered clothing; he is in a sleep that isbroken and feverish, that borders in fact, upon delirium; beside him, pale as a corpse, with nerves unstrung, and trembling, sits FrankLamotte, fearing to leave him, and loath to stay. At intervals, thesleeper grows more restless, and then starts up with wild ejaculations, or bursts of demonaic laughter. At such times, Frank Lamotte pours, froma bottle at his side, a powerful draught of burning brandy, and holds itto the frenzied lips. They drain off the liquor, and presently relapseinto quiet. 

It is midnight. In the library of Mapleton, Jasper Lamotte sits at hisdesk, poring over a pile of papers. The curtains are closely drawn, thedoor securely locked. Now and then he rises, and paces nervously up anddown the room, gesticulating fiercely, and wearing such a look as hasnever been seen upon the countenance of the Jasper Lamotte of society. 

It is midnight. In the Mapleton drawing room, all that remains of JohnBurrill, lies in solemn solitary state; and, down in his cell, facedownward upon his pallet, lies Clifford Heath, broad awake, and bitterlyreviewing the wrongs heaped upon him by fate; realizing, to the full, his own helplessness, and the peril before him, and doggedly resolvingto die, and make no sign. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

I CAN SAVE HIM IF I WILL. 

Doctor Benoit was old and deaf; he was also very talkative. One of thosephysicians who invariably leave a titbit of news alongside of theirpowders and pellets. A constant talker is apt to be an indiscreettalker, and, very often, wanting in tact. Doctor Benoit was not so muchdeficient in tact, as in memory. In growing old, he had grown forgetful, and not being a society man, social gossip was less dear to his heartthan the news of political outbreaks, business strivings, and about-townsensations. Doubtless he had heard, like all the world of W----, thatDoctor Clifford Heath had, at one time, been an aspirant for the favorof the proud heiress of Wardour, and that suddenly he had fallen fromgrace, and was no more seen within the walls of Wardour, or at the sideof its mistress on social occasions. If so, he had entirely forgottenthese facts. Accordingly, during his second call, made on the morningafter the inquest, he began to drop soft remarks concerning the recenthorror. 

Mrs. Lamotte was lying down, and Constance had decided not to arouse herwhen the doctor arrived, inasmuch as the patient was in one of herstupors, and not likely to rouse from it. 

The arrest of a brother practitioner on such a charge as was preferredagainst Clifford Heath, had created no little commotion in the mind ofDr. Benoit, and he found it difficult to keep the subject off histongue, so, after he had given Constance full instructions concerningthe patient, he said, standing hat in hand near the dressing room door:

"This is a terrible state of affairs for W----, Miss Wardour. Do youknow, " drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice, "Do you know ifMr. Lamotte has been informed that O'Meara, as Heath's lawyer, demands asurgical examination?"

"As Heath's lawyer!" The room seemed to swim about her. She turnedinstinctively toward the door of the chamber, closed it softly, and camevery close to the old doctor, lifting her pale lips to his ear. 

"I don't understand you, doctor. What has Mr. O'Meara to do with themurder?"

"Hey? What's that? What is O'Meara going to do? He's going to defendyoung Heath. " Then, seeing the startled, perplexed look upon her face, "Is it possible you have not heard about Heath's arrest?"

She shook her head, and again lifted her mouth to his ear. 

"I have heard nothing; tell me all. "

"It seems that there was an old feud between Heath and Burrill, " beganthe doctor, beginning to feel that somehow he had made a blunder. "Theyhave hunted up some pretty strong evidence against Heath, and thecoroner's jury brought in a verdict against him. You know the body wasfound in an old cellar, close by Heath's cottage. "

At this moment there came a soft tap on the outer door, which Constanceat once recognized. Mechanically she moved forward and opened the door. Mrs. Lamotte stood on the threshold. 

Seeing the doctor and Constance, she at once inferred that Sybil was thesubject under discussion, and to insure the patient against beingdisturbed, beckoned the doctor to come outside. 

As he stepped out into the hall, Constance, hoping to get a littleinformation from him, came forward, and standing in the doorway, partially closed the door behind her. 

"Doctor, " said Mrs. Lamotte, anxiously, "do you see any change inSybil?"

He shook his head gravely. 

"There is no marked change, madam; but I see a possibility that she mayreturn to consciousness within the next forty-eight hours, in which caseI must warn you against letting her know or guess at the calamity thathas befallen her. "

The two women exchanged glances of relief. 

"If she receives no shock until her mental balance is fully restored, her recovery may be hoped for; otherwise--"

"Otherwise, doctor?"

"Otherwise, if she retains her life, it will be at the cost of herreason. "

"Oh!" moaned the mother, "death would be better than that. "

There was the sound of a door opening softly down the hall. They allturned their eyes that way to see Frank Lamotte emerging from Evan'sroom. He came hurriedly toward them, and Constance noticed the nervousunsteadiness of his gait, the pinched and pallid look of his face, thefeverish fire of his sunken eyes. 

"Mother, " he said, in a constrained voice, and without once glancingtoward Constance, "I think you had better have Doctor Benoit see Evan. Ihave been with him all night, and am thoroughly worn out. "

"What ails Evan, Frank?"

"Too much liquor, " with a shrug of the shoulders. "He is on the verge ofthe 'brandy madness, ' he sometimes sings of. He must have powerfulnarcotics, and no cessation of his stimulants, or we will have himraving about the house like a veritable madman; and--I have not told himabout Burrill. "

A look of contrition came into the mother's face. Evan had kept his roomfor days, but, in her anxiety for her dearest child, she had quiteforgotten him. 

"Come, doctor, " she said, quickly; "let us go to Evan at once. "

They passed on to the lower room, leaving Constance and Frank face toface. 

Constance moved back a pace as if to re-enter the dressing-room; burningwith anxiety as she was, to hear more concerning Clifford Heath, herwomanly instincts were too true to permit her to ask information of herdiscarded suitor. But Frank's voice stayed her movements. 

"Constance, only one moment, " he said, appealingly. "Have a littlepatience with me _now_. Have a little pity for my misery. "

His misery! The words sounded hypocritical; he had never loved JohnBurrill over much, she knew. 

"I bestow my pity whenever it is truly needed, Frank, " she said, coldly, her face whitening with the anguish of her inward thought. "Do you think_you_ are the only sufferer in this miserable affair?"

"I am the only one who can not enlist your sympathies. I must livewithout your love; I must bear a name disgraced, yet those who broughtabout this family disgrace, even Clifford Heath, in a felon's cell, nodoubt you will aid and pity; _he_ is a martyr perhaps, while I--"

"While you--go on, sir;" fierce scorn shining from the gray eyes; bittersarcasm in the voice. 

"While I, " coming closer and fairly hissing the words, "am set aside forhim, a felon, Oh! you are a proud woman, and you keep your secrets well, but you can not hide from me the fact that ever since the accursed daythat brought you and Clifford Heath together, _he_ has been the manpreferred by you. If I have lost you, you have none the less lost him;listen. "

Before she is aware of his purpose, he has her two wrists in a vice-likegrip; and bending down, until his lips almost touch the glossy locks onher averted head, he is pouring out, in swift cutting sentences, thestory of the inquest; all the damning evidence is swiftly rehearsed;nothing that can weigh against his rival, is omitted. 

Feeling instinctively that he utters the truth; paralyzed by the weightof his words; she stands with head drooping more and more, with cheeksgrowing paler, with hands that tremble and grow cold in his clasp. 

He sees her terror, a sudden thought possesses his brain; grasping herhands still tighter, he goes madly on:

"Constance Wardour, in spite of the coldness between you, you loveClifford Heath. _What will you do to save him?_"

[Illustration: "Constance Wardour, you love Clifford Heath. "]

"This is too much! This is horrible!" She makes a mad effort to freeherself from his grasp. 

The question comes like a taunt, a declaration of her helplessness. Coming from him, it is maddening. It restores her courage; it makes hermistress of herself once more. 

"Don't repeat that question, " she says, flashing upon him a look ofdefiance. 

"I _do_ repeat it!" he goes on wildly. "Go to O'Meara; to whom youplease; satisfy yourself that Clifford Heath has a halter about hisneck; then come to me, and tell me if you will give yourself as hisransom. _I can save him if I will. _ I _will_ save him, only on onecondition. You know what that is. "

With a sudden fierce effort she frees herself from his clasp, and standserect before him, fairly panting with the fierceness of her anger. 

"Traitor! _monster!_ Cain! Not to save all the lives of my friends; notto save the world from perdition, would I be your wife! _You_ woulddenounce the destroyer of that worthless clay below us. _You!_ Beforethat should happen, to save the world the knowledge that such a monsterexists, _I_ will tell the world where the guilt lies, _for I know_. "

Before he can realize the full meaning of her words, the dressing-roomdoor is closed between them, and Frank Lamotte stands gnashing histeeth, beating the air with his hands in a frenzy of rage and despair. 

While he stands thus, a step comes slowly up the stairs; he turns tomeet the gaze of his father. 

"Frank, " says Jasper Lamotte, in low, guarded accents, "Come down to thelibrary at once. It is time you knew the truth. "

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A LAST RESORT. 

Like a man in a dream, Frank Lamotte obeys his father's call, never oncethinking that the summons is strangely worded. Over and over in his mindthe question is repeating itself--What did she mean? Was he going mad?Was he dreaming? Had Constance Wardour really said a word that renderedhimself and all that household unsafe? If she knew who should stand inClifford Heath's stead, would she really spare the culprit? No; it wasimpossible. Was her talk bravado? was she seeking to deceive him?

"Impossible, " he reasons. "If she knew who struck that blow, then I amruined utterly. But she does not know--she can not. "

Jasper Lamotte leads the way to the library. It seems natural that heshould move softly, cautiously. A supernatural stillness pervades thelower floor. Frank Lamotte shudders and keeps his eyes turned away fromthe closed-up drawing room with its silent tenant. 

When they are seated face to face, with locked door and closely drawncurtains, Frank looks across at his father, and notes for the first timethat day the lines of care settling about the sallow mouth, andunderneath the dark, brooding eyes. A moment of silence rests betweenthem, while each reads the signs of disaster in the face of the other. Finally the elder says, with something very like a sneer in his voice:

"One would think you a model mourner, your visage is sufficientlywoful. " Then leaning across the table, and elevating one longforefinger; "Something more than the simple fact of Burrill's death hasshaken you, Frank. _What is it?_"

Frank Lamotte utters a low mirthless laugh. 

"I might say the same of you, sir; your present pallor can scarcely beattributed to grief. "

"True;" a darker shadow falling across his countenance. "Nor is itgrief. It is bitter disappointment. Have you seen Miss Wardour?"

"Yes;" averting his head. 

"And your case in that quarter?"

"Hopeless. "

"What!" sharply. 

"Hopeless, I tell you, sir; do I look like a prosperous wooer? she willnot look at me. She will not touch me. She will not have me at anyprice. "

Jasper Lamotte mutters a curse. "Then you have been playing thepoltroon, " he says savagely. 

The countenance of the younger man grows livid. He starts up from hischair, then sinks weakly back again. 

"Drop the subject, " he says hoarsely. "That card is played, and lost. Isthis all you have to say?"

"All! I wish it were. What took me to the city?"

"What took you, true enough. The need of a few thousands, ready cash. "

"Yes. Well! I have not got the cash. "

"But--good heavens! you had ample--securities. "

"Ample securities, yes, " with a low grating laugh. "Look, I don't knowwho has interposed thus in our favor, but--if John Burrill were aliveto-night you and I would be--beggars. "

"Impossible, while you hold the valuable--"

"Bah! valuable indeed! you and I have been fooled, duped, deluded. Ourtreasured securities are--"

"Well, are what?"

"Shams. "

"Shams!" incredulously. "But that is impossible. "

"Is it?" cynically. "Then the impossible has come to pass. There'snothing genuine in the whole lot. "

A long silence falls between them. Frank Lamotte sits staring straightbefore him; sudden conviction seems to have overtaken his panic-strickensenses. Jasper Lamotte drums upon the table impatiently, looking moodyand despondent. 

"A variety of queer things may seem plain to you now, " he says, finally. "Perhaps you realize the necessity for instant action of some sort. "

Frank stirs restlessly, and passes his hand across his brows. 

"I can't realize anything fully, " he says, slowly. "It's as well thatBurrill did not live to know this. "

"Well! It's providential! We should not have a chance; as it is, wehave one. Do you know where Burrill kept his papers?"

"No. "

"Who removed his personal effects? Were you present?"

"Assuredly. There were no papers of value to us upon the body. "

"Well, those papers must be found. Once in our hands, we are safe enoughfor the present; but until we find them, we are not so secure. However, I have no doubt but that they are secreted somewhere about his room. Have you seen Belknap to-day?"

"Only at the inquest. Curse that fellow; I wish we were rid of himentirely. "

"I wish we were rid of his claim; but it must be paid somehow. "

"Somehow!" echoing the word, mockingly. 

"That is the word I used. I must borrow the money. "

"Indeed! Of whom?"

"Of Constance Wardour. "

"What!"

"Why not, pray? Am I to withdraw because you have been discarded? Whyshould I not borrow from this tricky young lady? Curse her!"

"Well!" rising slowly, "she is under your roof at this moment. Strikewhile the iron is hot. Have you anything more to say to-night?"

"No. You are too idiotic. Get some of the cobwebs out of your brain, andthat scared look out of your face. One would think that _you_, and notHeath, were the murderer of Burrill. "

A strange look darts from the eyes of Frank Lamotte. 

"It won't be so decided by a jury, " he says, between his shut teeth. "Curse Heath, he is the man who, all along, has stood in my way. "

"Well, there's a strong likelihood that he will be removed from yourpath. There, go, and don't look so abjectly hopeless. We have nothing todo at present, but to quiet Belknap. Good night. "

With lagging steps, Frank Lamotte ascends the stairs, and enters his ownroom. He locks the door with a nervous hand, and then hurriedly lowersthe curtains. He goes to the mirror, and gazes at his reflectedself, --hollow, burning eyes, haggard cheeks, blanched lips, that twitchconvulsively, a mingled expression of desperation, horror, anddespair, --that is what he sees, and the sight does not serve to steadyhis nerves. He turns away, with a curse upon the white lips. 

He flings himself down in a huge easy chair, and dropping his chin uponhis breast, tries to think; but thought only deepens the despairinghorror and fear upon his countenance. Where his father sees one foe, Francis Lamotte sees ten. 

He sees before him Jerry Belknap, private detective, angry, implacable, menacing, not to be quieted. He sees Clifford Heath, pale, stern, accusing. Constance Wardour, scornful, menacing, condemning andconsigning him to dreadful punishment. The dead face of John Burrillrises before him, jeering, jibing, odious, seeming to share with himsome ugly secret. He passes his hand across his brow, and starts upsuddenly. 

"Bah!" he mutters, "this is no time to dally; on every side I see apitfall. Let every man look to himself. If I must play in my last trump, let me be prepared. "

He takes from his pocket a bunch of keys, and, selecting one of thesmallest, unlocks a drawer of his dressing case. He draws forth a pairof pistols and examines them carefully. Then he withdraws the chargesfrom both weapons, and loads one anew. The latter he conceals about hisperson, and then takes up the other. He hesitates a moment, and thenloads that also, replaces it in its hiding place, closes and locks thedrawer. Then he breathes a long sigh of relief. 

"It's a deadly anchor to windward, " he mutters, turning away. "It's alast resort. Now I have only to wait. "

CHAPTER XXXV. 

A STRANGE INTERVIEW. 

While Frank Lamotte, in his own chamber, is preparing himself foremergencies, Constance Wardour stands by the bedside of her unconsciousfriend, struggling for self control; shutting her lips firmly together, clenching her teeth; mastering her outward self, by the force of herstrong will; and striving to bring the chaos of her mind into likesubjection. Three facts stare her in the face; three ideas dance throughher brain and mingle themselves in a confused mass. Clifford Heath is inperil. She can save him by betraying a friend and a trust. She loveshim. 

Yes, stronger than all, greater than all, this fact stands out; in thishour of peril the truth will not be frowned down. She loves this man whostands accused of murder; she loves him, and, great heavens! he isinnocent, and yet, must suffer for the guilty. 

What can she do? What must she do? She can not go to him; she, by herown act, has cut off all friendly intercourse between them. But, something must be done, shall be done. 

Suddenly, she bends down, and looks long and earnestly into the face ofthe sleeper. The dark lashes rest upon cheeks that are pale as ivory;the face looks torture-stricken; the beautiful lips quiver with the painof some dismal dream. 

Involuntarily, this cry escapes the lips of the watcher:

"My God! To think that two noble lives must be blasted, because of thatpitiful, worthless thing, that lies below. "

The moments drag on heavily, her thoughts gradually shaping themselvesinto a resolve, while she watches by the bedside and waits the return ofMrs. Lamotte. At last, she comes, and there is an added shade of sorrowin her dark eyes; Evan is very ill, she fears for his reason, too. 

"What has come upon my children, Constance?" she asks, brokenly; "evenFrank has changed for the worse. "

"Poor Evan, " sighs Constance, thinking of his loyal love for Sybil; andthus with her new resolve strong in her mind, she says, briefly:

"I must go to town at once, Mrs. Lamotte, and will return as soon aspossible. Can you spare me without too much weight upon yourself. "

Without a question, Mrs. Lamotte bids her go; and very soon she isdriving swiftly toward W----, behind the splendid Lamotte horses. 

Straight to Lawyer O'Meara she is whirled, and by the time she reachesthe gate, she is as calm as an iceberg. 

Coming down the steps is a familiar form, that of her aunt, Mrs. Aliston. Each lady seems a trifle disconcerted by this unexpectedmeeting; neither is inclined to explain her presence there. 

Mrs. Aliston appears the more disturbed and startled of the two; shestarts and flushes, guiltily, at sight of her niece. 

But, Constance is intent upon her errand; she pauses long enough toinquire after her aunt's health, to report that Sybil is much the same, and Evan ill, and then she says:

"Is Mr. O'Meara at home, Aunt Honor?"

"Yes. That is, I believe so, " stammers Mrs. Aliston. 

"Then I must not detain you, or delay myself; good morning, auntie;" andshe enters the house, leaving Mrs. Aliston looking perplexed andtroubled. 

Ushered into the presence of Mr. O'Meara, Constance wastes no words. 

"Mr. O'Meara, " she begins, in her most straightforward manner, "I havejust come from Mapleton, where I have been with Sybil since last night. This morning, Doctor Benoit horrified me by telling me that Doctor Heathhas been arrested for the murder of John Burrill. "

Just here the study door opens softly, and a portly, pleasant facedgentleman enters. He bows with easy self-possession, and turnsexpectantly toward O'Meara. That gentleman performed the ceremony ofintroduction. 

"Miss Wardour, permit me: Mr. A--Wedron, of the New York Bar. Mr. Wedron, my dear, is here in the interest of Doctor Heath. "

A pair of searching gray eyes are turned full upon the stranger, whobears the scrutiny with infinite composure. She bows gravely, and thenseats herself opposite the two gentleman. 

"Mr. O'Meara, " she says, imperiously, "I want to hear the fullparticulars of this affair, from the very first, up to the presentmoment. "

The two professional men exchange glances. Then Mr. Wedron interposes:"Miss Wardour, " he says, slowly, "we are acting for Clifford Heath, inthis matter, therefore, I must ask, do you come as a friend of theaccused, or--to offer testimony?"

Again the gray eyes flash upon him. "I come as a friend of DoctorHeath, " she says, haughtily; "and I ask only what is known to all W----, I suppose. "

Mr. Wedron conceals a smile of satisfaction behind a smooth white hand;then he draws a bundle of papers from his pocket. 

"O'Meara, " he says, passing them to his colleague; "here are the itemsof the case, as we summed them up last evening; please read them to MissWardour. " And he favors the little lawyer, with a swift, but significantglance. 

Drawing his chair a little nearer that of his visitor, O'Meara begins, while the portly gentleman sits in the background and notes, lynx-like, every expression that flits across the face of the listening girl. 

O'Meara reads on and on. The summing up is very comprehensive. From thefirst discovery of the body, to the last item of testimony before thecoroner's jury; and after that, the strangeness, the apathy, theobstinacy of the accused, and his utter refusal to add his testimony, orto accuse any other. Utter silence falls upon them as the readingceases. 

Constance sits mute and pale as a statue; Mr. Wedron seems quiteself-absorbed, and Mr. O'Meara, glances around nervously, as if waitingfor a cue. 

Constance turns her head slowly, and looks from one to the other. 

"Mr. O'Meara, Mr. Wedron, you are to defend Doctor Heath, you tell me?"They both nod assent. 

"And--have you, as his counsel, gathered no palliating proof? Nothing toset against this mass of blighting circumstantial evidence?"

Mr. Wedron leans forward, fastens his eyes upon her face, and saysgravely: "Miss Wardour, all that can be done for Clifford Heath will bedone. But--the case as it stands is against him. For some reason he haslost courage. He seems to place small value upon his life I believe thathe knows who is the guilty one, and that he is sacrificing himself. Furthermore, I believe that there are those who can tell, if they will, far more than has been told concerning this case; those who may withholdjust the evidence that in a lawyer's hands will clear Clifford Heath. "

The pallid misery of her face is pitiful, but it does not move Mr. Wedron. 

"Last night, " he goes on mercilessly, "Mr. Raymond Vandyck sat where yousit now, and I said to him what I now say to you. Miss Wardour, RaymondVandyck knows more than he has told. " His keen eyes search her face, herown orbs fall before his gaze. Then she lifts them suddenly, and asksabruptly:

"Who are the other parties who are withholding their testimony?"

Again Mr. Wedron suppresses a smile. "Another who knows more than hechooses to tell is Mr. Frank Lamotte. "

She starts perceptibly. 

"And--are there others?"

"Another, Miss Wardour, is--yourself. "

[Illustration: "Another, Miss Wardour, is--yourself. "]

"Myself!"

She bows her face upon her hands, and convulsive shudders shake herform. She sits thus so long that O'Meara becomes restless, but Mr. Wedron sits calm, serene, expectant. 

By and by she lifts her head, and her eyes shine with the glint of bluesteel. 

"You are right, sir, " she says in a low, steady voice. "I _can_ tellmore than is known. It may not benefit Doctor Heath; I do not see how itcan. Nevertheless, all that I can tell you shall hear, and I only askthat you will respect such portions of my story as are not needed inevidence. As for Mr. O'Meara, I know I can trust him. And I believe, sir, that I can rely upon you. "

Mr. Wedron bows gravely. 

"I will begin by saying that Mr. Vandyck, if he has withheld anythingconcerning Doctor Heath, has acted honorably in so doing. He was boundby a promise, from which I shall at once release him. "

In obedience to a sign from Mr. Wedron, O'Meara prepares to write. 

"You have said, sir, " addressing Mr. Wedron, "that I may be able to saysomething which, if withheld, would complicate this case. What do youwish to hear?"

"Every thing, Miss Wardour, every thing. All that you can tellconcerning your acquaintance with Clifford Heath--all that you have seenand know concerning John Burrill; all that you can recall of the sayingsand doings of the Lamottes. And remember, the things that may seemunimportant or irrelevant to you, may be the very items that we lack tocomplete what may be a chain of strong evidence in favor of the accused. Allow me to question you from time to time, and, if I seem possessed oftoo much information concerning your private affairs, do not be toogreatly astonished, but rest assured that all my researches have beenmade to serve another, not to gratify myself. "

"Where shall I begin, sir?"

"Begin where the first shadow of complication fell; begin at the firstword or deed of Doctor Heath's that struck you as being in any waystrange or peculiar. "

She flushes hotly and begins her story. 

She describes her first impression of Doctor Heath, touching lightlyupon their acquaintance previous to the time of the robbery at Wardour. Then she describes, very minutely, the first call made by Doctor Heath, after that affair. 

"One moment, Miss Wardour, you told Doctor Heath all that you knewconcerning the robbery. "

"I did, sir;" coloring rosily. 

"And you exhibited to him the vial of chloroform and the piece ofcambric?"

"I did. "

"At this point you were interrupted by callers, and Doctor Heath leftrather abruptly?"

"Precisely, sir. "

"Who were these callers?"

"Mr. Lamotte and his son. "

"Had you any reason for thinking that Doctor Heath purposely avoided ameeting with these gentlemen?"

"Not at that time;" flushing slightly. 

"Go on, Miss Wardour. "

She resumes her story, telling all that she can remember of the call, ofFrank's return, and of Sybil's letter. 

"About this letter, I would rather not speak, Mr. Wedron; it can notaffect the case. "

"It _does_ affect the case, " he replies quickly. "Pray omit no detailsjust here. "

She resumes: telling the story of that long day, of Clifford Heath'ssecond visit, and of the news of Sybil Lamotte's flight. 

She tells how, at sunset, she opened the strange letter, and how, bewildered and startled out of herself, she put it into Clifford Heath'shands, and called upon him to advise her. 

Almost word for word she repeats his comments, and then she hesitates. 

"Go on, " says Mr. Wedron, impatiently; "what happened next?"

Next she tells of the sudden appearance of the strange detective; andhere O'Meara seems very much interested, and Mr. Wedron very little. 

He does not interrupt her, nor display much interest, until she reachesthe point in her narrative when she discovers the loss of Sybil'sletter. 

"Well!" he cries, as she hesitates once more. "Go on! go on! about thatletter. "

"Gentlemen, " says Constance, contritely, "here, if I could, I wouldspare myself. When Doctor Heath came, to return the bottle borrowed bythe detective, I accused him of taking the letter. "

"What!" starting violently; "you suspected him?"

"I insulted him. "

"And he--"

"He resented the insult in the only way possible to a gentleman. Heaccepted it in silence, and turned his back upon me. "

"Ah! and since that time?"

"Since that time I have received no intimation that Doctor Heath isaware of my existence. "

"Ah-h-h!" ejaculates Mr. Wedron; "and you have not found the letter?"

"No. Its fate remains a mystery. "

"Do you still believe that Doctor Heath could account for itsdisappearance, if he would?"

"On sober second thought, I could see no motive for taking the letter. I was hasty in my accusation. I came to that decision long ago. "

"You were deeply grieved over the _mesalliance_ of Miss Lamotte?"

"She was my dearest friend. "

"Was?" inquiringly. 

Constance pales slightly, but does not correct herself. 

"Miss Lamotte's strange marriage has been since explained, I believe?"

"_No, sir!_ not to my satisfaction. "

"What! Was it not to save a scapegrace brother?"

"Stop, sir! That scapegrace brother is the one of all that family mostworthy your respect and mine. You wish me to tell you of the family; letme begin with Evan. "

Beginning where she had dropped her story, Constance goes on. Sheoutlines the visits of the two detectives; she tells how Frank Lamottereceived the news of his sister's flight. 

Then she paints in glowing, enthusiastic language, the interview withEvan in the garden. She pictures his grief, his rage, his plea that shewill stand fast as his sister's friend and champion. She repeats his oddlanguage; describes his sudden change of manner; his declaration that hewill find a reason for Sybil's conduct, that shall shield Sybil, and beacceptable to all. 

Then she tells how the rumor that Sybil had sacrificed herself forEvan's sake grew and spread, and how the boy had sanctioned the report. How he had come to her the second time to claim her promise, andannounce the time for its fulfillment. 

"To-day, " she says, with moist eyes, "Evan Lamotte lies on a drunkard'sbed; liquor has been his curse. Morally he is weaker than water; but hehas, under all that weakness, the elements that go to make a hero. Allthat he had, he sacrificed for his sister. Degraded by drink as he was, he could still feel his superiority to the man Burrill; yet, for Sybil'ssake, to relieve her of his brutal presence, Evan became his companion, and passed long hours in the society that he loathed. "

"Ah!" ejaculates Mr. Wedron; "ah-h-h!" then he closes his lips, andConstance resumes. 

She tells next how she became weary of the search for the Wardourdiamonds; how she sought to withdraw private detective Belknap; and howthat individual had endeavored to implicate Doctor Heath, and hadfinally accused him; how she had temporized, and sent for officerBathurst; and how, during the three days of waiting, she had sent RayVandyck to watch over Clifford Heath. She finishes her story withoutinterruption, carrying it up to the very day of the murder. Then shepauses, dreading further questioning. 

But Mr. Wedron asks no questions, and makes no comment. He fidgets inhis chair, and seems anxious to end the interview. 

"Thank you, Miss Wardour, " he says, rising briskly, "you have been aninvaluable witness; and I feel like telling you, that--thanks to you, Ihope soon to put my hand upon the guilty party, and open the prisondoors for Heath. "

She utters a low cry. 

"My God! What have I said!" she cries wildly. "Listen, sir; CliffordHeath must, and shall, be free; but--you must never drag to justice thetrue culprit; you _never shall_!"

She is on her feet facing Mr. Wedron, a look of startled defiance in hereyes. 

He is gazing at her with the look of a man who has discovered a secret. Suddenly he comes close beside her, and says, in low, significant tones:

"Let us understand each other; one of two must suffer for this crime. Shall it be Clifford Heath, the innocent, or--_Frank Lamotte_?"

She reels and clutches wildly at a chair for support. 

"Frank Lamotte!" she gasps, "_Frank_, Oh! No! No! It must not be him!Oh! You do not understand; you can not. "

She pauses, affrighted and gasping. Then her lips close suddenly, andshe struggles fiercely to regain her composure. After a little she turnsto Mr. O'Meara, saying:

"You have heard me say that Mr. Bathurst, the detective, and friend ofDoctor Heath, was, not long since, in W----; he may be here still; I donot know. But he must be found; he is the only man who can do what_must_ be done. For I repeat, Doctor Heath must be saved, and the truecriminal must _not_ be punished. My entire fortune is at your command;find this detective, for my hands are tied; and he _must_, he MUST, finda way to save both guilty and innocent. "

"This is getting too deep for me, Wedron, " says O'Meara, when the doorhas closed behind Constance. "What does it lead up to? For I take ityour tactics mean something. "

Mr. Wedron laughs a low, mellow laugh. 

"Things are shaping themselves to my liking, " he says, rubbing his handsbriskly. "We are almost done floundering, O'Meara. Thanks to MissWardour, I know where to put my hand when the right time comes. "

"I don't understand. "

"You will very soon. Now hear a prophecy: Before to-morrow night, Clifford Heath will send for you, and lay before you a plan for hisdefence. He will manifest a sudden desire to live. "

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

TWO PASSENGERS WEST. 

Late that night a man is walking slowly up and down the little footpaththat leads from the highway, just opposite Mapleton, down to the riverand close past that pretty, white boat house belonging to the Lamottedomain. 

He is very patient, very tranquil in his movements, and quiteunconscious that, crouched in the shadow, not far away, a small figurenotes his every action. 

Presently a second form emerges from the gloom that hangs over the gatesof Mapleton, and comes down toward the river. Just beside the boat houseit pauses and waits the man's approach. 

The new comer is a woman. The night is not so dark but that her form isdistinctly visible to the hidden watcher. 

"Well, " says the man, coming close beside her, "I am here--madam. "

"Yes, " whispers the woman. "Have you--" she hesitates. 

"Accomplished my task?" he finishes the sentence. "Have you not proof upyonder that the work is done?"

The woman trembles from head to foot, and draws farther away. 

"I am only waiting to receive what is now due me, " the man resumes. "Youneed have no fears as to the future; like Abraham, you have beenprovided with a lamb for the sacrifice. "

Again a shudder shakes the form of the woman, but she does not speak. 

"I must trouble you to do me a favor, Mrs. Burrill, " the man goes on. "It is necessary that I should see the honorable Mr. Lamotte. So, if youwill be so good as to admit me to Mapleton to-night, under cover of thisdarkness, and contrive an interview without disturbing the otherinmates, you will greatly oblige me; but first, my two thousand dollars, if you please. "

With a sudden movement the woman flings back the cloak that has beendrawn close about her face, and strikes with her hand upon the timbersof the boat house. 

There is a crackling sound, a flash of light, and then the slow blaze ofa parlor match. 

By its light they gaze upon each other, and then the man mutters acurse. 

"Miss Wardour!"

"Mr. Belknap, it is I. "

[Illustration: "Mr. Belknap, it is I. "]

There is a moment's silence, and then she speaks again:

"You are disappointed, Mr. Belknap; you expected to meet another, whowould pay you your price for--you know what. You will not see that otherone; she is hovering between life and death, and her delirious ravingshave revealed you in your true character. You may wonder how I havedared thus to brave an assassin, a blackmailer. I am not reckless. If Ido not return in ten minutes, safe and sound, the boat house will bespeedily searched and you, Mr. Belknap, will be hunted as you may havehunted others. Not long since you made terms with me, you attemptedcoercion, I might say blackmail; to-night, it is in my power to bridleyour tongue, and I tell you, that, unless you leave W---- at once, youwill find yourself a resident here against your will. Consider yourbusiness in W---- at an end. This is not a safe place for you. "

With the last words on her lips, she turns and speeds swiftly backtoward Mapleton, and Jerry Belknap, private detective, standstransfixed, gazing at the spot from which she has fled, and mutteringcurses not good to hear. 

He makes no attempt to follow her. He recognizes the fact that he isbaffled, and, for the time at least, defeated. Grinding out curses as hegoes, he turns his steps toward W----. 

Then, from out the shadows of the boat house, a small bundle uncoilsitself, stands erect, and then moves forward as if in pursuit. 

But, something else rises up from the ground, directly in the path ofthis small shadow; a long, slender body displays itself, and a voicewhispers close to the ears of the smaller watcher:

"Remain here, George, and keep a close eye on the house. I will lookafter _him_. "

Then the shadows separate; the taller one follows in the wake of thedisconsolate detective. 

The other, scaling the park palings like a cat, vanishes in the darknessthat surrounds Mapleton. 

The reflections of Jerry Belknap, private detective, as he goes, withmoody brow, and tightly compressed lips, across the pretty river bridge, and back toward his hotel, are far from pleasant. 

He is a shrewd man, and has engineered many a knotty case to asuccessful issue, thereby covering himself with glory. This was in thepast, however; in the days when he had been regularly attached to astrong and reliable detective agency. 

For tact, energy, ambition, he had no peer; but one day his career hadbeen nipped in the bud. 

A young man, equally talented, and far more honorable, had caused hisoverthrow; and yet had saved him from the worst that might have befallenhim. And, Jerry Belknap, had stepped down from an honorable position, and, determined to make his power, experience, and acknowledgedabilities, serve him as the means of supplying his somewhat extravagantneeds, had resolved himself into a "private detective, " and betakenhimself to "ways that are dark. "

"There's something at the bottom of this business that I don'tunderstand, " mused he as he paced onward; little thinking how soon he isto be enlightened on this and sundry other subjects. "I never felt moresanguine of bringing a crooked operation to a successful termination, and I never yet made such an abject failure. I shall make it my businessto find out, and at once, what is this power behind the throne. So, according to Miss Wardour, may Satan fly away with her, I am not toapproach the Lamotte's, I am to lose my reward, I am to retire from thefield like a whipped cur. Miss Wardour, we shall see about that. "

"Call me for the early train going west, " he says to the night clerk, onreaching the hotel; "let me see, what is the hour?"

"The western train leaves very early, sir--at four twenty. Then youwon't be here to witness Burrill's funeral? It will call everybody out. The circumstances attending the man's life and death will make it anevent for W----. "

"It's an 'event' that won't interest me. If I have been rightlyinformed, the man is better, placed in his coffin, than he ever was inhis boots. I shall leave my baggage here--all but a small valise. Iexpect to return to W---- soon. If anything occurs to change my plans, Iwill telegraph you and have it forwarded. "

At this moment the door of the office opens and closes noisily, and aman comes rather unsteadily toward them. It is Smith, the book-peddler, and evidently much intoxicated. 

"Hallo, Smith, " says the night clerk, jocosely, as Mr. Belknap turnsaway, "you seem to have rheumatism, and I suspect you find more fun thanbusiness in W----. "

"Town ain't much on literature, " retorts Mr. Smith, amiably, "but it'sthe devil and all for draw poker. I've raked in a pot, and I'm going onto the next pious town, so

 'If you are waking, call me early. '

Old top, I'm going west. "

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

SOME EXCELLENT ADVICE. 

Early on the following morning, there was unusual stir about Mapleton. John Burrill was to be buried that day, and the sad funeral preparationswere going on. People were moving about, making the bustle the morenoticeable by their visible efforts to step softly, and by the lowmonotonous hum of their voices. 

Up stairs, the usual quiet reigned. 

Sybil was sleeping under the influence of powerful opiates, administeredto insure her against the possibility of being overheard in her ravings, or of waking to a realization of the events taking place below stairs. 

Evan, too, had been quieted by the use of brandy and morphine, and Mrs. Lamotte kept watch at his bedside, while Constance, in Sybil's chamber, maintained a similar vigil. Neither of the two watchers manifested anyinterest in the funeral preparations, nor did they feel any. 

"I shall not be present at the burial, " Mrs. Lamotte had said to herhusband. "Sybil's illness and Evan's will furnish sufficient excuse, and--nothing constrains me to do honor to John Burrill _now_. "

Mr. Lamotte opened his lips to remonstrate, but catching a look upon theface of his wife that he had learned to its fullest meaning, he closedthem again and went grimly below stairs, and, through all the dayprevious to the departure of the funeral cortege, Jasper Lamotte was theonly member of that aristocratic family who was visible to the curiousgaze of the strangers who attended upon the burial preparations. 

Early in the forenoon an unexpected delegation arrived at the entranceof Mapleton. 

First, came Doctor Benoit, driving alone in his time-honored gig, theonly vehicle he had been seen to enter within the memory of W----. 

Close behind him, a carriage containing four gentlemen, all manifestlypersons of more than ordinary importance, Mr. O'Meara, in fact, hiscolleague of the New York Bar, and two elderly, self-possessedstrangers, evidently city men. 

They desired a few words with Mr. Lamotte, and that gentleman, aftersome hesitation and no little concern as to the nature of their businessat such a time, presented himself before them, looking thepersonification of subdued sorrow and haughty reserve. 

Mr. O'Meara acted as spokesman for the party. 

"Mr. Lamotte, " he began, with profound politeness and marked coldness ofmanner and speech, "I should apologize for our intrusion at such a time, were it not that our errand is one of gravest importance and can not beput off. Allow me to introduce to you Mr. Wedron, Doctor Gaylor andProfessor Harrington, all of New York. "

Mr. Lamotte recognized the strangers with haughty courtesy, and silentlyawaited disclosures. 

"Mr. Wedron and myself, as the representatives and counsel of DoctorHeath, have summoned from the city these two gentlemen, whom you mustknow by reputation, and we desire that they be allowed to examine thebody of Mr. Burrill, in order to ascertain if the wounds upon the bodywere actually made by the knife found with it. "

The countenance of Mr. Lamotte darkened perceptibly. 

"It seems to me, " he said, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "thatthis is an unwarrantable and useless proceeding--doubly so at this latehour. "

"Nevertheless, it is a necessary one, " broke in Mr. Wedron, crisply. "Itis presumable that you can have no personal enmity against Doctor Heath, sir; therefore you can have no reason for opposing measures instigatedby justice. The examination will be a brief one. "

The resolute tone of his voice, no less than his words, brought JasperLamotte to his senses. 

"Certainly, I have no wish to oppose the ends of justice, " he said, in atone which, in spite of himself, was most ungracious. "Such aninvestigation is naturally distasteful to me. Nevertheless, you mayproceed, gentlemen, but I should not like the ladies of my household todiscover what is going on. They are sufficiently nervous already. If youwill excuse me for a moment, I will go up and request them to remain intheir rooms for the present. After that, you are at liberty toproceed. "

They all seat themselves gravely, and Mr. Lamotte, taking this as aquiet acquiescence, goes out, and softly but swiftly up the broadstairs; not to the rooms occupied by the ladies, however, but straighton to Frank's room, where that young man has remained in solitude, eversince his unusually early breakfast hour. 

"Frank, " he says, entering quietly and closing the door with great care. "Frank, we have a delegation of doctors below stairs. "

"A delegation of doctors?" Frank repeats, parrot-like. 

"Precisely; they want to examine the body. "

Frank comes slowly to his feet. 

"To examine the body!" he repeats again. "In Heaven's name, _why_?"

"To ascertain, by examining the wounds on the body, if the knife foundwith it, is the knife that killed. "

A sickly hue overspreads Frank Lamotte's face, and he sits weakly downin the chair, from which he has just risen, saying never a word. 

"Frank, " says Jasper Lamotte, eyeing his son sharply. "Do you see anyreason why this investigation should not take place; supposing that itwere yet in our power to hinder it?"

A silence that lasts many seconds, then:

"It is _not_ in our power to hinder it, " says Frank, in a hollow voice;"neither would it be policy. Let the play go on, " and he turns his faceaway with a weary gesture. 

For a moment, Jasper Lamotte stands gazing at his son; a puzzled look onhis face; then he turns and goes out as softly as he came. 

"Gentlemen, " he says, re-entering the library, with the same subduedmanner, "you are at liberty to proceed with your examination, and, if Imay suggest, it is as well to lose no time. The funeral takes place attwo o'clock. "

They arise simultaneously, and without more words, follow Jasper Lamotteto the room of death. 

At the door, Mr. Wedron halts. 

"I will remain on the balcony, " he says to Mr. O'Meara, but sufficientlyloud to be heard by all the rest, "I never could endure the sight of acorpse. " And he turns abruptly, and goes out through the open doorway;taking up a position on the broad piazza, and turning his gaze towardthe river. 

Jasper Lamotte is less sensitive, however; he enters with the others, and stands beside O'Meara, while the physicians do their work. 

"At least, " he thinks, "I'll know what they are about, and what theirverdict is. "

But in this he is disappointed. They have brought with them a surgeon'sknife; the precise counterpart of the one now in possession of theprosecution, and of the same manufacture. 

One by one they examine, they compare, they probe, and all in silence. Then they turn toward O'Meara. 

"I believe we have finished, " says Professor Harrington. 

"And the result?" asks Jasper Lamotte, eagerly, in spite of himself. 

"That, " replies Mr. O'Meara, with elaborate _nonchalance_, "will be madeknown at the trial. Mr. Lamotte, we trust that you will pardon this mostnecessary intrusion, and we wish you a very good morning. "

The examination has been a very brief affair; it is just ten o'clockwhen the four unwelcome guests drive away. 

Doctor Benoit does not accompany them; he goes up-stairs to visit hispatients. 

Jasper Lamotte asks him no questions. He knows that Doctor Benoit is aman of honor and that he will keep his professional secrets. So he goessulkily back to his library. 

Two hours later a rough, uncouth looking man appears at the servants'entrance, and asks to see Mr. Lamotte. 

"I'm one of his workmen, " he says, very gravely, "and I want to see himparticular. "

Jasper Lamotte is in no mood for receiving visitors, but he is, justnow, in a position where he can not, with safety, follow the dictates ofhis haughty nature. 

He is filled with suspicion; surrounded by a mystery he can not fathom;and, a man who begs for an audience at such an hour, must have anextraordinary errand. Reasoning thus, he says, crustily:

"Show the fellow here. "

A moment later the man shuffles into the room. Mr. Lamotte glances up, and his brow darkens ominously. 

"Brooks!" he exclaims. "What the mischief--" he checks himself, thenadds, ungraciously: "What do _you_ want?"

"Mr. Lamotte, I beg your pardon, sir, " says the man, a trifle thickly. "I came back to W---- last night, and heard of the awful things, as hashappened here. Now, I always liked Burrill, in spite of his weakness, for _I_ ain't the man to criticise such failin's. I've been down amongthe factory people, and I've heard them talk; and, thinks I to myself, there's some things as Mr. Lamotte ought to know. You've always paid memy wages, sir; and treated me fair; and I believe you've treated all thehands the same; but--there's _some_ people as must always have theirfling at every body, as the Lord has seen fit to set over their heads;and--there's some of them sort in Mill avenue. "

During this harangue the countenance of Jasper Lamotte has grown lesssupercilious, but not less curious. 

"Explain yourself, Brooks, " he says, quite graciously, and with someinward uneasiness. "I do not comprehend your meaning. "

"If I had come to your servants and asked to see the body of my oldchum, " begins Brooks, with a knowing look, and drawing near Mr. Lamotte, "they would have ordered me off, and shut the door in my face; so I justasked to see _you_ on particular business. But if you was to ring yourbell, by and by, and order one of your servants to take me in to lookat the corpse, I could explain to them what an old friend I was, andthat would settle the curiosity business. "

"Doesn't it strike you, Brooks, that you don't cut much of a figure, toappear as the friend of my son-in-law?" questions Mr. Lamotte, lookingsome disfavor at the _ensemble_ before him. 

Brooks buries his chin in his bosom, in order to survey his soiledlinen; looks down at his dingy boots; runs his fingers through his shockof coarse red hair. 

"I ain't much of a feller to look at; but that's because I ain't been aslucky as Burrill was; though I ain't anxious to change places with himnow. I'll fix the friendship business to suit you, sir, and be properrespectful about it. Say Burrill was my boss, or something of that sort. I shouldn't like to have certain parties know my _real_ business here, and I _should_ like to take a look at Burrill on my own account. "

There is a ring of sarcasm in the first words of this speech, and Mr. Lamotte reflects that he has not yet learned his errand. 

"Very good, Brooks, you shall see the body, and manage the rest asdelicately as possible, please. You know we want no ill spoken of thedead. Now, then, your real business, for, " consulting his watch, "timepresses. "

"I know it does, sir, and I won't waste any words. You see, sir, beggin'your pardon for mentionin' of it, Burrill has got another wife, adivorced one, I mean, livin' down at the avenue. She works in Story'smill now, but she used to work in yours before--"

"Yes, yes, " impatiently. "Get on faster, Brooks. "

"Well, you see, sir, since her husband--I mean since _Mr. Burrill_ waskilled, she has been cuttin' up rough, and lettin' out a many things asyou wouldn't like to have get all over W----. She ain't afraid of him nomore (he did beat her monstrous), and when she gets to takin' on, shelets out things that would sound bad about your son-in-law. If it was acommon chap like me, it wouldn't matter; but I thinks to myself, now, Brooks, this 'ere woman who can't hold her tongue will be hauled up as awitness for Doctor Heath. I ain't got nothing against Doctor Heath, butI says, it will be awful humblin' to Mr. Lamotte's pride, and powerfulhard on his pretty daughter; so I jest come to say that if Nance Burrillcould be got to go away, quiet like, before the other parties could gettheir hands on her, why, it would be a good thing, Mr. Lamotte. "

Considering the tender solicitude he feels for "Mr. Lamotte's pride, " hehas given it some pretty hard knocks, but he looks quite innocent, andincapable of any sinister intent, and Mr. Lamotte, after gnawing his lipviciously for a moment and favoring his _vis-ŕ-vis_ with a sharp glanceof suspicion, says, with sudden condescension:

"Brooks, I've always been inclined to believe you a pretty good sort offellow, but really this singular disinterestedness almost makes mesuspect your motive. Stop, " as Brooks elevates his head and suddenlyfaces toward the door. "Hear me out. Brooks, don't be ashamed toconfess it. Did the thought of a reward stimulate you to do methis--favor?"

"If it's a favor, sir, you take it very uppish, " retorts Brooks sulkily, and edging slowly toward the door. "I'm a poor man, sir, but I ain't badenough to come to you with a trumped-up story, and if I happened tothink that in case you found things as I tell you, you might reward meby and by with a ten-dollar note, why, I don't think there is much harmin that. I liked you and your ways, and wanted to do you a good turn, and if I wanted to do myself a good turn, too, why, there's nater inthat. "

"There's nature in that, true enough. Brooks, I wish I had time to hearall the particulars of this affair. "

"I don't want to give them, sir, " replies the man, hastily. "No morewould it be fair for me to do so. I've got some fair friends among theMill avenue folks. I've come back to W----, because I couldn't get onanywhere else; and I've come back broke. The factory folks will trust meto a night's lodging, when their betters wouldn't. I've told you enoughto open your eyes, sir; and you can look into the thing for yourself. "

To "look into the thing" for himself, is precisely what Jasper Lamotteis not inclined to do; so he says, with growing convictions, andincreasing friendliness of manner:

"At least, Brooks, you can give me an idea of the nature of the storiesthis woman will tell, if brought into court?"

"The Lord knows what she won't tell, sir; she blows hot, and blows cold. One minute she tells how he was a fairly good husband, until he got intothe hands of some city gang, while they lived in New York; and next sheraves over all his misdeeds, tells how he was compelled to quit England, or be jugged up; how he forced her into divorcing him; how he braggedover the strong influence he had over you and all your family; how hecame to her house time and again, after he was married to your gal; andhow he promised her 'pots of old Lamotte's money;' them's her words, sir, 'pots of old Lamotte's money, and heaps of diamonds, for the sakeof old times, ' when he was drunk enough to be good natured; and how hebeat her, and I can testify to that, when he was a little drunker. "

"Brooks, " says Mr. Lamotte, springing a last trap; "do you suppose _you_could manage this business of getting away the woman, if I paid youwell, and gave you a bribe for her?"

"No, sir. I couldn't do it. I am so well known about Mill avenue; itwon't do for a poor broke up devil to turn up flush all at once. I don'twant nothing to do with the affair. I've done all I can do. "

Mr. Lamotte slowly draws forth his wallet, and slowly opens it. 

"Brooks, here is twenty-five dollars; I've not much money by me; I'lllook into this matter, and do more for you after we get quiet again. Meantime, you can have the first vacancy at the factory; I'll see tothat at once. "

"And I'll try and be sober, sir, and ready for it. Now, then, I've beenhere a good many minutes; you'd better let me take a look at the corpse, and be off. "

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

BELKNAP OUTWITTED. 

"If you please, Mr. Lamotte, " said that gentleman's coachman, appearingbefore his master, less than an hour before the time appointed for themoving of the funeral cortege, and looking much confused. "If youplease, sir, I've had a misfortune with my hand, sir; at least, mywrist; it's sort of sprained, and I most fear I can't handle the reinsproper, for the horses is mighty full of life, bein' so little used oflate. "

"Well, well, " broke in Mr. Lamotte. "I suppose you can get a man to fillyour place?"

The man's countenance brightened at once. 

"Oh, yes, sir; I've the very man right on hand. A friend of mine, and amaster one with horses. "

"Let him take your place then, and see that every thing is in properorder. "

"It's all right, " said the coachman, returning to the stables, andaddressing a man who leaned against the loose box, where two bloodedcarriage horses were undergoing the currying process. "It's all right;you can drive the horses. "

"Cap'n you're a good fellow, " said the man, enthusiastically, "andhere's your ten dollars. It's a favor I'll never forget, mind, formany's the day I've driven the beauties, before Squire McInnis went up, and we all had to go. "

[Illustration: "Cap'n, you're a good fellow. "]

"That was a big failure, " replied the coachman, knowingly. "You just seethat the horses are done off all right, won't you? I must look after thecarriage. "

"It was lucky for me that I happened to know the history of thesehorses, " mused Jerry Belknap, for he it was who leaned confidingly overto stroke the sleek sides of one of the splendid bays, and who hadbribed Mr. Lamotte's coachman with a ten dollar bill. "If I drive theLamottes, I'm sure of a hearing, and no audience; at the worst if theyshould take in a third party, but they won't, I can find a way to makemyself and my wants known. " And he sauntered across to the carriagehouse and critically inspected the splendid landau that was being rolledout upon the gravel. 

He had returned to W---- on foot, from a near railway station, reachingthe town within five hours from the time he left it. 

During this time, however, his personal appearance had undergone amarked change. He was rubicund, and more youthful of countenance;shabbily smart in dress; excessively "horsey, " and somewhat loud inmanner. 

During his intercourse with the Lamottes he had learned, from Frank, that their blooded bays had once been the property of a wealthy andprominent citizen of New York, who having failed, after the modernfashion, had given Jasper Lamotte the first bid for the valuable span. Given thus much, the rest was easy. Representing himself as a formercoachman of this bankrupt New Yorker, he had told his little story. Hewas looking about him for a place in which to open a "small, but neat"livery stable, had wandered into W---- that morning, and havingconsiderable cash about him, all his savings in fact, he had not caredto tempt robbers, by appearing too "high toned. "

Of course he had heard at once of the murder, and then remembered thatLamotte was the name of the gentleman who had bought his favorite horsesfrom his former master. 

"I never pulled reins over a span equal to 'em, " he said, with muchpathos. "I never had the same liking for any other pair of critters;they was the apple of my eye, and I'd give just ten dollars to drawreins over 'em once more--even to a funeral. "

His little ruse was successful; the bait was instantly swallowed, andJerry Belknap glanced maliciously up at the closely curtained chamberwindows, and muttered, as he began to saunter slowly up and down beforethe stable door:

"Miss Wardour, you won't find it so easy to outwit an old detective, even with the odds in your favor. "

Just as the horses were being led out from the stable, a quiet-lookingyoung man, with a somewhat rustic air, came into the yard, andapproached the group near the carriage house. 

"Who comes here?" asked the disguised Belknap, in a low tone, addressingthe coachman. 

"More than I know, " replied that functionary. Then laying down ahalter, just removed from the head of one of the pawing, restlesshorses, he turned toward the new comer, saying, patronizingly:

"Well, my man, can we do anything for you?"

The stranger appeared somewhat abashed. 

"I hope I ain't in the way, gentlemen, " he said, respectfully; "I camefrom Wardour with a message for Miss Constance. It's from the old lady, and as I see the carriages are coming and the hearse, I just thought I'dwait till the funeral was gone before I intruded. "

"Oh!" said the coachman, more graciously. "Well, you won't have long towait, then; the time's about up, and Mr. Lamotte is never behind time. "Then he turned to Mr. Belknap. 

"You must keep a close eye over the off one, " he said; "he's full ofCain; and I say, what a lucky thing it is that your clothes are dark, and that Mrs. Lamotte won't let us wear full liveries. "

"Why, yes, it's very lucky, that's so; just throw over those reins, willyou. Don't be uneasy in your mind about that horse; I'll drive 'em safeenough; just you tell me when to start. "

Ten minutes later, all that remained of John Burrill was borne out inits costly casket and placed in the splendid hearse at the door. 

Just as he was about to cross his own threshold, Jasper Lamotte wasconfronted by a young man who pressed into his hand a slip of paper, andwhispered in his ear:

"Read it at once, sir; it's of vital importance _to you_. "

Stifling an exclamation, Jasper Lamotte unfolded and glanced at the slipof paper. It contained these words:

 The man who will drive your carriage is a cursed New York detective, who has bribed your coachman. 

 Don't give him the opportunity he hopes to gain for watching and listening to yourself and son. 

 The bearer of this can be trusted. BELKNAP. 

By the time he had mastered the meaning of the note, the hearse hadmoved forward and the pall-bearers were taking their places. 

Then the Lamotte carriage came into view. Mr. Lamotte placed the note inthe hand of his son, who stood close beside him, and descended thesteps, a stern look on his face. 

"My friend, come down off that box, " he said to the self-satisfiedsubstitute procured him by his coachman. 

[Illustration: "My friend, come down off that. "]

The man on the box stared down at him in amazement. 

"But, sir, " he began. 

"I want no words from you, sir; you can't drive my horses. Come downinstantly. "

The discomfited Belknap writhed in his seat, and looked about himhelplessly. 

Before were the pall-bearers, looking back from their open vehicle, andnoting the scene; on the steps, and within easy hearing distance, weregathered the small knot of gentlemen, who, for courtesy's sake, or forpolicy's sake, had gathered to do honor to Mr. Lamotte, rather than tothe poor rosewood shrouded thing that had never a mourner. 

He could not explain; he could not make himself known. 

"I will have you thrown off that box, sir; if you hesitate ten secondslonger, " exclaimed Mr. Lamotte, impatiently, at the same time movingaway and beckoning to the driver of the next carriage. 

Fate was against him, and muttering curses, "not loud but deep, " JerryBelknap began to clamber reluctantly down. 

Seeing this, Mr. Lamotte turned toward the bearer of the mischievousnote, who had withdrawn a few paces from the group near the carriage, and beckoned him to approach. 

He came forward promptly. 

"Can you drive, my man?"

"Yes, sir, " respectfully. 

"Then do me the favor to mount that box and drive my horses thisafternoon. "

"And you, sir, " turning to poor Belknap, "get off my premises and keepoff. "

And so it came about that Jerry Belknap, private detective, foundhimself once more outwitted, and "Mr. Smith, the book-peddler, " drovethe carriage containing John Burrill's chief mourners. 

"Pardon this little scene, gentlemen, " said Mr. Lamotte, turning to hisfriends, "but I happen to know that the man I dismissed is drunk. "

Half an hour later a servant tapped softly at the door where Constancekept watch, and said:

"There's a boy below, Miss Wardour, who says he has an important messagefor you, and must deliver it in person. "

Constance went immediately down to find our old friend George, the imageboy, in the hall below. 

She smiled at sight of him, hoping to obtain some news of Bathurst. Buthe only bowed, as if to a queen, placed in her hand a small, sealedenvelope; and before she could utter a word, she was standing alone inthe crape-hung hall, while the boy's steps could be heard ringing on thestones outside. 

Standing there, Constance hastily opened the envelope. It contained aletter and a scrap of paper. Glancing first at the scrap, she read thesewords:

 MISS WARDOUR--

 Enclosed find a letter, which, for reasons which I shall explain later, I pilfered from you on the night of our first meeting. It has accomplished the purpose for which I took it, and I hasten to restore it. 

 BATHURST. 

Constance turned her eye once more upon the paper in her hand, lookedcloser and exclaimed: "It is; it is Sybil's lost letter!"

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

"WILL LOVE OUTWEIGH HONOR?"

"Dr. Heath, here is another visitor. "

Clifford Heath turned slowly away from the small iron-barred window; helooked a trifle disturbed by this announcement, for he had just beeninterviewed by Mr. O'Meara, who for the first time had presented Mr. Wedron, and the two had left him much to think about. 

The look of annoyance left his face, however, and a stare of surprisetook its place, when, following upon the footsteps of the janitor, cameConstance Wardour, not closely veiled and drooping, after the manner ofprison-visiting females in orthodox novels, but with her fair faceunconcealed, and her graceful figure at its proudest poise. 

The haughtiness all departed from face and bearing, however, when thedoor closed behind her and she found herself alone with the man she hadfalsely accused. 

Misfortune had not humbled Clifford Heath. When the first momentary lookof surprise had left his face, he stood before her as proudly erect, asicily courteous, as if he were receiving her in his own parlor. 

"Doctor Heath, " began Constance, in low, contrite tones, "some monthsago I brought a wrongful accusation against you. I wronged you deeply;let me do myself the justice to say that almost immediately I wasconvinced of the injustice I had done you, of the utter insanity of myown behavior, but--" blushing rosily, "I never found the letter, and howcould I come to you and say, I have changed my mind, without a reason. Less than an hour ago, this note was put into my hands, and with it thatunfortunate lost letter. This enables me to say, --Doctor Heath, I deeplyregret the insult I offered you, and I ask you to be magnanimous, and topardon me. "

She put the note in his hand, and he read it, without uttering a word;stood silent for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, and then said:

"Miss Wardour, I am glad that this affair has been cleared up; when aman has so many dark shadows hanging over him, he is thankful for thesmallest glimpse of sunlight. It is like your generosity to come inperson. "

"But you have not said that you forgive me, Doctor Heath; fully andfreely, remember. "

"Fully and freely I forgive you, then, Miss Wardour, " smilingly, hereplied. "After all, the mistake was a natural one. Since I have been aninmate of this cell, I have learned to see myself as others see me. Whyshould I not come under suspicion, especially after hearing my words toBathurst? By the by, this note from Bathurst, you tell me that youreceived it to-day?"

"To-day; since noon. "

"And it is dated to-day; then, " looking at her questioningly, "Bathurstmust be in town. "

"Yes, " dropping her eyes, confusedly. "That is, I think so;" andscarcely heeding her own movements, she seated herself in the doctor'schair, and, leaning one arm against the table, looked up into his face, saying with a spice of her old manner, so familiar to him in the past:

"Having forgiven me so generously, Doctor Heath, don't you think itwould be quite proper to shake hands?"

He looked down upon her, a strange light leaping into his eyes. But hedid not approach. He lifted a large, shapely hand, and surveyed itsorrowfully. 

"It _looks_ as clean as any hand, Miss Wardour, but there is a stainupon it. "

"A stain! No, sir. Do you think that _I_ believe in your guilt?"

Again the quick light flamed in his eyes, and now he came a step nearer. 

"Do you believe in my innocence?"

"Beyond a doubt. "

"When I said 'there is a stain upon my hand, ' I did not mean the stainof guilt, but of suspicion, of accusation. "

"There is _no_ stain upon your hand! Doctor Heath. What is this I hearabout you? They tell me you will make no defense. "

He smiled down at her. 

"I could make but one defense, and that--"

"And that?"

"And that, Miss Wardour, I would not make. "

"Why?"

She was straining every nerve to preserve her composure; words came fromher lips like frozen heartbeats. 

"Because--Miss Wardour, do not ask me why. "

"I do ask; I persist. Why? Why? _Why?_"

"Because--I see you are as imperious as ever--because I can only savemyself by giving the real murderer up to justice. "

She was on her feet in an instant, all her enforced calmness gone, unutterable misery in her face and voice. 

"You know!" she cried. "You! Oh! my God, what shall I do!"

"Have no fear, Miss Wardour; have I not said I will keep my owncounsel?"

"But, you! _You!_ Oh, there is no reason why _you_ should not speak; youare not bound! You are not--oh, what am I saying!" She sank back intoher seat, panting and wild-eyed. 

"Miss Wardour, calm yourself, " he said, gently. "I _am_ bound. It is mypleasure to keep this secret. Listen. A short time ago I received avisit from my lawyers. They told me--among other things, they thought itbest that I should know--that you knew who did the deed, and that youwould have us both saved, innocent and guilty alike. Before that, I haddetermined to keep silence; now I am doubly resolved. For your sake, Iwill not accuse Frank Lamotte. "

"Frank--you will not accuse _Frank Lamotte_? And for my sake!" shealmost shrieked. "For God's sake, explain. What is Frank Lamotte to me?Of what can you accuse him?"

It was Clifford Heath's turn to lose his composure. How could heinterpret her words? Was she trying to deceive him?

"Miss Wardour, " he said, almost sternly, "do you wish me to understandthat Francis Lamotte is nothing to you?"

"_Nothing to me!_ the vilest, the basest, the most treacherous, the mostabject of all human creatures, _that_ is what Frank Lamotte is to me!"

Uncontrollable scorn rang in her voice; rising anger, too. How dared_he_ couple her name with that of Frank Lamotte?

From the chaos of meanings and mysteries revolving through his mind, Clifford Heath seized upon and clung to one idea, held it in silence fora moment, then let it burst forth in words. 

"Then--then you are not Frank Lamotte's promised wife?"

"_I!_ great heavens! _no. _"

"And never have been?"

"And never have been. "

Clifford Heath drew a long, deep breath. For a moment a look of gladnessbeamed in his eye, then it died out suddenly, as he said, almostgloomily:

"And yet, you have said that he must be saved at all hazards. Knowinghis guilt, I still am here in his place. "

"In his place, oh, " she came toward him with a swift, eager movement, "Ibegin to see! Doctor Heath, you think Frank Lamotte the guilty one?"

"I know it, " grimly. 

A look of relief came over her face. She breathed freely. 

"You believe this, " she said at last, "and yet you are here. If you haveevidence against Frank Lamotte, why do you occupy a felon's cell? Whynot put him in your place?"

"I have told you why. It was for your sake. "

She lowered her eyes and drew back a little, but he followed her, and, standing before her, looked down into her face with a persistent, searching gaze. "You must understand me now, " he said firmly, "when Ibelieved that you loved Frank Lamotte, I said 'Then I will not standforth and accuse the man she loves, for--I love her, and she must not beunhappy. '"

A great sob rose in her throat. A wave of crimson swept over her brow. She stood before him with clasped hands and drooping head. 

"But for that meddlesome slip of paper, " he went on, "I should not havebeen driven from the field, and this treachery of Lamotte's could neverhave been practiced upon me. Do you remember a certain day when you sentfor Ray Vandyck, and he came to you from my office? Well, on that dayFrancis Lamotte told me that you were his promised wife, and when Raycame back, _he_ verified the statement, having received the informationfrom your lips. Once I hoped to come to you and say, after lifting foryour eyes the veil of mystery, which I have allowed to envelope my past:'Constance Wardour, I love you; I want you for my very own, my wife!'Now, mountains have arisen between us; I can not offer you a hand withthe shadow of a stain upon it; nor a name that is tarnished by doubt andsuspicion. However this affair may end for me, that hope is ended now. "

[Illustration: "That hope is ended now. "]

It had come; the decisive moment. 

She could go away now with sealed lips, and it would end indeed. Shecould turn away from him, leaving happiness behind her; taking with herhis happiness, too; or, she could speak, and then--

She looked about her; and the bare walls and grated windows gave herstrength to dare much. Had they stood together out under the broadbright sunlight; he as free as herself, she could have turned awaymutely, and let her life go on as it would. 

Now--now his present was overshadowed; his future difficult to read. 

"_Is_ it ended?" she said, softly. Then, looking up with sudden, charming imperiousness. "You end things very selfishly, very coolly, Doctor Heath. I do not choose to have it ended. "

"Miss Wardour!--Constance!"

"Wait; you say that your lawyers told of my visit to them, and that Iwould not have the guilty punished. What more did they tell you--aboutmy doings?"

"Very little; I could hardly understand why they told thus much. "

"Did they tell you that I learned, through a scheming rascal in theguise of a detective, that a plot was growing against you; that I sentfor Ray Vandyck, and set him over you as a temporary guardian? And thatI sent next for Detective Bathurst, warning him that you were surroundedby enemies. Did they tell you that, when I learned of your arrest, Ileft my place by Sybil Lamotte, who is delirious and yet clings to meconstantly, and came to them, offering them all my fortune if they wouldonly save me you?"

"Did you do this--Constance?"

"I have done this. Have I not earned the right, openly, before all theworld, to be your champion, your truest friend, your--"

"My queen! my darling! my very own!"

All his calm is gone, all his haughtiness of bearing; with one swiftmovement he snatches her to his heart, and she rests in his embrace, shocked at her own boldness, and unspeakably happy. 

Who dare intrude upon a lover's interview? Who dares to snatch the firstcoy love words from a maiden's lips, and give them to a world grown oldin love making, and appraising each tender word by its own calloused oldheart?

For the time all is forgotten, save one fact, they love each otherwell. 

By and by, other thoughts come, forcing their way like unwelcome guests. 

 * * * * *

"Constance, " he says, after a long interval, "you have made me anythingbut indifferent to my fate. Now I shall begin to struggle for myfreedom; but--do you realize what a network of false testimony they havewoven about me?"

"Do I realize it?" she cried. "Yes, far more than you do, or can, and--you said something about Frank Lamotte. Has he sought to injureyou?"

"Constance, I thought you knew, " turning upon her a look of surprise. "Ithought you knew his guilt. Who, but Frank Lamotte, could gain access tomy office, to purloin my handkerchief and my knife? He had a duplicatekey, and--_I found that key in the old cellar beside the body of JohnBurrill_. "

The look of perplexity on her face deepens into one of actual distress. 

Could it be, that after all, Frank had forestalled that other one?

Back upon her memory came his words, "I can save him if I will. " Wherethere is room for doubt there is room for hope. What if another hand hadanticipated that of the paid assassin? She resolved to cling to thishope with desperation. 

If there was evidence so strong against Frank Lamotte, let him take herlover's place. Why not? She began to see many things in a new light; shepeered forward, catching a view of the partial truth, "as in a glass, darkly. " One thing was clear, however, they must act at once! No timemust be lost!

She sat before him thinking thus, yet seemingly powerless to act orspeak!

"Constance. Has the possibility of Frank Lamotte's guilt, overwhelmedyou?"

"The possibility!" she exclaimed, starting up suddenly. "No. I know himcapable of baser things than murder. "

"Of baser things! My darling, what do you mean?"

"Don't ask me now; there is no time to waste in talking of him; I amgoing straight to your lawyers this moment; I am going to send them toyou, and you shall tell them every thing. "

"Despot!" His eyes devouring her. 

"Of course! I am always that. They will say it is time some one took youin charge. Are you going to be dumb any more?"

"Never! My lips are unsealed from this hour; since you have dared toclaim and take a share in my fate, and since I have not the courage toput so much happiness from me. "

"Supposing it in your power?"

"Oh, I know better than to cope with you, " smiling upon her fondly. "Butmy honor must be vindicated for your gracious sake, and--I must cease tobe, " with a sidelong glance, "'Doctor Heath, from nowhere. ' Sit down, darling; our janitor is an accommodating fellow; he will not interrupt, nor shorten your stay, I am sure. I want to tell you my story. It isyours, together with all my other secrets. "

She put up her hand, quickly. 

"Not now, " she said. "Not for a long time. I prefer you as I have knownyou; for me, you shall still be 'Doctor Heath, from nowhere. ' Don'tremonstrate; I will have it so; I will send Mr. O'Meara to you, and thatodd Mr. Wedron; you shall tell _them_ all about yourself. "

"_You_ will go to them? Constance, no; for your own sake, let us keepour love a secret for a time; until this is ended, somehow. Think, myproud darling, how much it would spare you. "

She turned toward him, her mouth settling into very firm lines, aresolute look in her eyes. 

"Would it spare you anything?" she asked, quietly. 

"I? Oh, no. It is sacrifice for me; but, I wish to have it so. Youmust not visit me here. You must not let gossip say she has thrownherself away on an adventurer. "

"I won't, " she replied, sententiously; "I'd like to hear of anybodysaying that! I'd excommunicate them, I'm going to close the mouths ofgossips, by setting my seal of proprietorship upon you. I'm coming hereevery day; but, after this, I'll bring Aunt Honor, or Mrs. O'Meara withme. I'm going to say to every soul who names you to me: 'Doctor Heath ismy affianced husband, defame him if you dare. ' And I'm going straight totell Mr. O'Meara that he must take your testimony against FrankLamotte. "

Constance kept her word. Before many days, the town rang with the newsthat Constance Wardour, in the face of the accusation against him, hadannounced her engagement to Doctor Clifford Heath. 

Then a hush fell upon the aristocratic gossipers of W----, andmischievous tongues were severely bridled. It was not wise to censuretoo freely a man whom the heiress of Wardour had marked with her favor. 

The lawyers found their client in a mood much more to their liking, andO'Meara scribbled down in his little book long sentences caught from thelips of Clifford Heath, who was now a strong helper, and apt insuggestions for the defense. 

He opened for them the sealed up pages of his past life. 

He told them in detail, all that he had briefly stated to Constance, concerning Frank Lamotte, and more. 

Every day now they were in close consultation, and every day the Wardourcarriage drove at a stated hour, first to Mapleton, where it took upConstance, and then to the prison, where, accompanied by her aunt, orher guardian's wife, the heiress passed a half hour in the cell of herlover. 

She still clung to the hope that the accumulating evidence against FrankLamotte might break the chain that bound him, and open his prison doors;but, one day, a week after her first visit to the prison, Mr. O'Mearadashed this hope to atoms. 

"We can bring no criminal accusation against Lamotte, " he said. "Theexamination proved that John Burrill was killed as early as eleveno'clock that night, and investigation has proven that Lamotte remainedat home all that evening, and was heard moving about in his room untilafter midnight. I'm terribly sorry, Constance, but the case stands justabout as it did at first, and the odds are still against Heath. He willhave to stand his trial. "

The girl's heart sank like lead, and as days passed on and no newdevelopments could be evolved from a case which began to assume a mostgloomy aspect, her position in the Lamotte household became unbearable. 

Sybil had changed a very little, but for the better. Her fits of ravingwere less frequent, and almost always to be anticipated. So, worn inbody and tortured in mind, Constance went back to Wardour, and, save forher daily visits to the prison, was invisible to all her friends. 

And she did not suffer alone. Knowing her love for Clifford Heath andthe terrible secret she carried in her bosom, Mrs. Lamotte lived in ananguish of suspense. Would love outweigh honor? If the worst shouldcome, could she trust Constance Wardour? Could she trust herself?

In those tortured hours, the same prayer went up from the heart of bothmother and friend--that Sybil Lamotte would die!

While these things were making the world a weariness to Constance, JerryBelknap, in his character of prospecting horse jockey, took up hisquarters in a third rate hotel near the river, and remained very quietin fancied security, until he became suddenly enlightened as to thecause of his ill success, as follows:

Lounging near the hotel one day, he was accosted by a stranger, whotapped him familiarly on the shoulder, saying:

"My friend, I've got a word to say to you. Will you just step into thenearest saloon with me. We will talk over a glass of something. "

Wondering idly at his coolness, Belknap followed the stranger, and theyentered "Old Forty Rods, " that being the nearest saloon. 

Once seated face to face at a table, the stranger threw a letter acrossto Belknap, saying carelessly:

"Read that, if you please. "

Opening the letter, these lines stared Belknap in the face:

 You have broken your pledge, Jerry Belknap. I have had you under my eye constantly. Fortunately for yourself, I can make use of you. Follow the instructions of the bearer of this _to the letter_ now and until further notice, if you hope for any mercy from

 BATHURST. 

He stared at the open letter as if it possessed the eyes of a basilisk. 

Instantly he recognized the power behind the scenes, and was no longersurprised at his failures. And he turned upon his companion a look ofsullen submission. 

"I know better than to kick against Bathurst, " he said doggedly. "Whatdoes he want me to do?"

"That's just what we are going to talk about, " said the stranger, coolly. "Draw your chair up closer, Jerry. "

CHAPTER XL. 

"TOO YOUNG TO DIE. "

Over days, filled with weary waiting and marked by few incidents and nodiscoveries, we pass with one glance. 

Clifford Heath's trial follows close upon his indictment. A month rollsaway, and with the first days of winter comes the assembling of judgeand jury, and his case is the first one called. 

During the weeks that have intervened between his arrest and this day ofhis trial, Constance has been his bravest champion and truest friend;she has stimulated him to hope, and incited him to courage, with loving, cheerful words, while clinging desperately to a last remnant of her ownsinking hope. 

Day by day, during all this time, the ancient gig driven by DoctorBenoit, deposited that gentleman before the doors of Mapleton. Sybil'sdelirium had ended in a slow, wearisome fever, which left her, as thefirst frosts of winter touched the land, a white, emaciated shadow ofher former self, her reason restored, but her memory sadly deficient. 

She had forgotten that dark phase of her life in which John Burrill hadplayed so sinister a part, and fancied herself back in the old days whenher heart was light and her life unfettered. She had dropped a year outof that life, but memory would come back with strength, the doctor said;and Mrs. Lamotte dreaded the days when that memory should bring to herdaughter's brow, a shadow never to be lifted; into her life a ghostnever to be laid. 

Evan, too, had narrowly escaped death at the hands of his rum demons;after four weeks filled with all the horrors attendant upon thedrunkard's delirium, he came to his senses, hollow-cheeked, sunken eyed, emaciated, with his breath coming in quick, short gasps, and the days ofhis life numbered. 

Brandy had devoured his vitals; late hours and protracted orgies hadsapped his strength; constant exposure in all weather and at all hourshad done its work upon his lungs. 

"If he outlasts the Winter, he will die in the Spring. " This was thedoctor's _ultimatum_. 

News from the outside world was strictly shut out from those sick ones. The name of John Burrill never was breathed in their presence, and bothwere ignorant of the fact that Clifford Heath, an old time favorite witheach, was on trial for his life. 

The morning that saw Clifford Heath quit his cell to take his place inthe felon's dock and answer to the charge of murder, saw Sybil Lamottelying upon a soft divan, before a merry Winter fire. It was the firsttime since her illness that she had quitted her bed. And Evan, too, forthe first time in many weeks, came with feeble, halting steps to hissister's room, and sitting near her, scanned her wasted features withwistful intentness. 

"Poor sis!" he murmured, stroking her hand softly. "We've had a prettyhard pull, you and I, but we're coming out famously. " And then he addedto himself, "More's the pity, so far as I am concerned. "

"What made you ill, Evan?" she whispered feebly. "Was it worrying aboutme?"

A bright flush leaped to his cheeks and burned there hotly. 

"Yes, it was about you, sis. But you will soon be as well and happy asever, won't you?" anxiously. 

"To be sure, Evan; we will both get well very fast. We have got so muchto live for, and we are too young to die. "

CHAPTER XLI. 

SIR CLIFFORD HEATHERCLIFFE. 

It is the opening hour of Clifford Heath's trial. 

The court room is crowded to its utmost capacity; never has thereoccurred a trial there so intensely interesting to all W----. 

The prisoner is a little paler, a little graver than his ordinary self. But is his ordinary self in every other respect; as proud of bearing, asself-possessed, as handsome, and _distingue_ as ever. 

Beside him sits Mr. O'Meara, alone. Mr. Wedron, after all his labor, andhis seeming interest, is unaccountably absent; unaccountably, at least, so far as the opposition, the prisoner, the judge, jury, and all thespectators are concerned. Mr. O'Meara seems not at all disturbed by hisabsence, and evidently understands all about it. 

Near the prisoner sits a man who causes a buzz of inquiry to run throughthe entire audience. 

He is tall, fair haired, handsome; the carriage of his head, thehaughtiness of his bearing, reminds more than one present of CliffordHeath, as they first knew him. He is a stranger to all W----, and "Whois he? Who is he?" runs from lip to lip. 

The stranger is seemingly oblivious of the attention lavished upon him;he bends forward at times, and whispers a word to the prisoner, or hiscounsel, and he turns occasionally to murmur something in the ear ofConstance Wardour, who sits beside him, grave, stately, calm. 

She is accompanied by Mrs. Aliston and Mrs. O'Meara, and Ray Vandycksits beside the latter lady, and completes the party. 

Mr. Lamotte is there, subdued, yet affable, and Frank, too, who is palerthan usual, but quite self-possessed. 

Near the party above mentioned, may be seen the two city physicians, but, and here is another cause for wonderment, Doctor Benoit is notpresent; and, who ever knew the good doctor to miss an occasion likethis?

"Business must be urgent, when it keeps Benoit away from such a trial, "whispers one gossip to another, and the second endorses the opinion ofthe first. 

Sitting there, scanning that audience with a seemingly careless glance, Constance feels her heart sink like lead in her bosom. 

She feels, she knows, that already in the minds of most, her lover is acondemned man. She knows that the weight of evidence will be againsthim. They have a defense, it is true, but nothing will overthrow thefact that John Burrill went straight to the house of the prisoner, andwas found dead hard by. 

All along she has hoped, she knew not what, from Bathurst. But since hereturned Sybil's note in so strange and abrupt a manner, she has had noword or sign from him, and now she doubts him, she distrusts everything. 

But, little by little, day by day, she has been schooling her heart toface one last desperate alternative. Her lover _shall_ be saved! Let thetrial go on. Let the worst come. Let the fatal verdict be pronounced, ifit must; after that, perish the Wardour honor. What if she must tramplethe heart out of a mother's breast? What if she must fling into thebreach the life of a blighted, wronged, helpless, perhaps dying sisterwoman?

Hardening her heart, crushing down her pride, she muttered desperatelyon this last day of doubt and suspense. 

"Let them all go. Let the verdict be what it may, Clifford Heath shallnot suffer a felon's doom!"

Then she had nerved herself to calmness and gone to face the inevitable. 

"Prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"

[Illustration: "Prisoner at the bar, are you guilty or not guilty?"]

The reading of the indictment has turned all eyes upon the prisoner'sface. 

He stands erect, his head haughtily poised, his clear dark eyes fixedfully upon the judge. 

"I am not guilty, your honor. "

A murmur runs through the court room. The stranger bends to whisper toConstance. The trial proceeds. 

Once again all the evidence brought forward at the inquest isrepeated--sworn to--dilated upon. Once again it presses the scalesdown, down, down, and the chances for the prisoner hang light in thebalance. 

One thing puzzles the prosecuting attorney, and troubles the mind ofJasper Lamotte. 

O'Meara, the shrewd, the fox like--O'Meara, who never lets pass a flawor a loophole for criticism; who never loses a chance to pick andtorture and puzzle a witness, is strangely indifferent. 

One by one the witnesses for the prosecution pass before him; little bylittle they build a mountain of evidence against his client. He declinesto examine them. He listens to their testimony with the air of a boredplay-goer at a very poor farce. 

After the testimony of the two masons, comes that of the party who lastsaw John Burrill in life. They testify as they did at theinquest--neither more, nor less. 

Then come the dwellers in Mill avenue. They are all there but Brooks andNance Burrill. 

"Your honor, " says the prosecuting attorney, "two of our witnesses--twovery important ones--are absent. Why they are absent, we do not know. Where they may be found, is a profound mystery. 

"One of these witnesses, a man called Brooks, we believe to have beenespecially intimate with the murdered man. We think that he could haverevealed the secret which the prisoner took such deadly measures tocover up. This man can not be found. He disappeared shortly after themurder. 

"Our other witness vanished almost simultaneously. This other was thedivorced wife of the murdered Burrill. She, too, knew too much. Now I donot insinuate--I do not cast any stones, but there are some, not fardistant, who could explain these two mysterious disappearances, 'an theywould. '"

"An they _will_!" pops in the hitherto mute O'Meara. "They'll makeseveral knotty points clear to your understanding, honorable sir. "

A retort rises to his opponent's lips, and a wordy war seems imminent, but the crier commands "Order in the Court, " and the two antagonistsglare at each other mutely, while the trial moves on. 

Frank Lamotte comes upon the witness stand. As before, he tells nothingnew. 

He was aware that his brother-in-law possessed some secret of DoctorHeath's. Did not know the nature of it, but inferred from words Burrillhad let drop, that it was of a damaging character. 

Upon being questioned as to his acquaintance with the prisoner, and whathe knew of his disposition and temper, he replies that he has known theprisoner since he first came to W----; liked him very much; never hadany personal misunderstanding, although of late the prisoner had chosento treat him with marked coldness. 

As to his temper--well, he must admit that it was very fiery, veryquickly roused, very difficult of control, he believed. Prisoner was bynature intolerant to a fault. He had shown this disposition in presenceof witness on many occasions. 

Being shown the knife found in the cellar, he examines it carefully, andpronounces it to be the one he has often seen in Doctor Heath'sinstrument case, or its precise counterpart. 

This ends his testimony. O'Meara has no questions to ask, and JasperLamotte takes his son's place. He is the last witness for theprosecution. 

He has less to say than any of the others. 

He had heard of his son-in-law's encounter with Doctor Heath, of course;knew that a feud existed between them, could not so much as guess at thenature of it. The prosecuting attorney is about to dismiss him _sansceremonie_, when Mr. O'Meara, springs into sudden activity and announceshis desire to examine the witness. 

His opponent stares astonished, a murmur runs through the room; theCourt bids him proceed. 

"Mr. Lamotte, " begins O'Meara, rising to his feet with provokingslowness, and then propounding his questions with a rapidity whichleaves the witness no time for thought. "Mr. Lamotte, what can you tellus of this missing witness, Brooks?"

Mr. Lamotte stares in mute astonishment, then instinctively scentingdanger ahead, he makes an effort to rally his forces that have beenscattered by the lawyer's unexpected bomb. 

"What do I know of the man Brooks?" he repeats slowly. "I don'tcomprehend you, sir. "

"I asked a plain question, " retorts the lawyer, crisply. 

"I believe the man has been in my employ, " ventures the witness, as ifmaking an effort to recall some very insignificant personage. 

"When?"

"That I do not remember, sir. "

"Ah! Perhaps you have forgotten when last you saw this fellow, Brooks?"

"I think I saw him, for the last time, two days before my son-in-law waskilled. I was at the depot, starting for the city. I think Brooks lefttown on the same train. "

"And you have not seen him since?"

"Not to my knowledge. "

"Make an effort to think, sir. Brooks has been seen in W---- since. Itis known that he has visited Mapleton. Try to recall that visit. "

Mr. Lamotte ponders and falls into the trap. 

"A man came to Mapleton on the day of Mr. Burrill's funeral, " he says, slowly. "I believe, upon reflection, that it _was_ Brooks; he wished tosee the body. "

"Did you see this man on that occasion?"

"I did; for a moment only; he came to me with his request. "

"You are sure this man was Brooks?"

"Not beyond a doubt. I was troubled, and busy. It was one of my factoryhands; I _think_ it was the man Brooks. "

"Mr. Clerk, " says O'Meara, turning suddenly to that functionary, "pleasetake down Mr. Lamotte's statements. He is _not_ sure that it was theman Brooks. "

Mr. Lamotte looks disconcerted for a moment. 

But O'Meara goes vigorously on, leaving him no time to collect histhoughts. 

"Now, Mr. Lamotte, what do you know of this woman who calls herselfNance Burrill?"

"Nothing, " with a glance of offended dignity. 

"Nothing! I am told that she has worked in your mills. "

"It is possible; I am not my own overseer, however, and do not know_all_ my people. "

"Have you ever heard that this woman could tell things that would notreflect credit upon your dead son-in-law?"

"No, sir, " haughtily. 

"Were you aware that this woman is not to be found, before learning thesame in court?"

"No, sir! I consider your questions irrelevant. "

"Possibly, " retorts O'Meara, drily. "I have no more to ask, sir. " Thenturning toward the jury, he says, rapidly:

"May it please your honor and the gentlemen of the jury, just here Ihave a word to say:

"You have heard the evidence against my client; you have heard the lifeand honor of a high-minded gentleman, against whom there was neverbefore a breath of scandal or blame, sworn away by a handful of saloonloafers, and a pack of ignorant old women. 

"I mean no disrespect to the loafers or the old women in question. Isuppose if the good Lord had not intended them for what they are, hewould have made them otherwise--and then there would have been noevidence against my client. I name them what they are, because, whenthis honorable jury weighs the evidence, I want them to weigh thewitnesses as well. "

"The gentleman wished to say one word, " sneers the prosecution. "Has hesaid it, or is this the beginning of his plea?"

"It would be better for your case if it were the beginning of my plea, "cuts in O'Meara; "my witnesses will be less to the gentleman's likingthan are my words. 

"Your honor, first then, the gentleman for the prosecution, in makinghis preliminary remarks, has dwelt at length upon the fact that myclient is comparatively a stranger to W----; a stranger with a mystery. Now, then, I wish to show that it is possible for a stranger to W---- tobe an honorable man, with an unblemished past; and that it is equallypossible for a dweller in this classic and hitherto unpolluted town, tobe a liar and to perjure himself most foully. 

"Let the Honorable George Heathercliffe take the stand. 

"And mark you, this gentleman _is_ the Honorable George Heathercliffe, of Cliffe Towers, Hampshire, England, member of parliament, and honoredof the Queen. His passports have been examined by our honorable judge, thereby saving the necessity for too much unpolished Yankee criticism. "

"It has failed to save us a dose of Irish pig-headedness, however, "interpolates the opposing barrister. 

During the burst of smothered laughter that follows, the statelyfair-haired stranger quits his place beside Constance, and takes thestand. 

He is duly sworn, and then Mr. O'Meara begins, with much impressiveness:

"Mr. Heathercliffe, turn your eyes upon the prisoner, my client. Haveyou ever seen him before entering this court room?"

The Honorable George Heathercliffe turns toward the prisoner, and asmile deepens the blue of his eyes, and intensifies the kindlyexpression of his handsome mouth. 

"I have seen the prisoner before, " he replies, still smiling. 

"Have you known him previous to his advent in W----?"

"I have. "

"For long?"

"For many years. "

"My honorable opponent has hinted that there is a mystery hanging aboutthis man. He even hazards a guess that his name may not be CliffordHeath. Do you know aught of this mystery?"

"I do. "

"Does the prisoner bear a name not his own?"

"He does not bear his own name entire. "

"Mr. Heathercliffe, who is this man who calls himself Doctor CliffordHeath?"

"He is _Sir Clifford Heathercliffe_, and my elder brother. "

CHAPTER XLII. 

A TORTURED WITNESS. 

There is a profound sensation in the court room. 

Constance Wardour catches her breath, and bends forward to look at herlover, the color coming and going hotly in her cheeks. She had chosen tohear nothing of his past, and so Mr. O'Meara has introduced theHonorable George Heathercliffe, that morning, saying only: "A mostimportant witness, Constance; a _strong_ witness. "

"He is Sir Clifford Heathercliffe, and my elder brother. "

Mr. Rand, the prosecuting attorney, moves uneasily in his seat, andbegins to wonder what small shot O'Meara holds back of this big shell. 

Without seeming to notice the sensation created by his self-possessedwitness, O'Meara goes on rapidly. 

"How long has your brother, Sir Clifford Heathercliffe, been inAmerica?"

"For more than three years. "

"Until you received the telegram calling you to his aid, did you knowwhere to find your brother?"

"I did not. "

"Mr. Heathercliffe, have you that telegram in your possession?"

"I have. "

"Will you permit his honor, the judge, to see that telegram?"

"Assuredly. " He draws forth a morocco letter case, and taking therefroma slip of paper hands it to O'Meara. That astute gentleman passes itcarelessly on to the clerk, saying: "Read it please. "

Rising to receive the paper, the clerk reads:

 _Honorable George Heathercliffe, Cliffe Towers, etc. , etc. , _

 Come at once to W----, R---- County. ---- Sir Clifford is in deep trouble. 

 BATHURST. 

"Bathurst!" the name falls involuntarily from the lips of Mr. Rand; heknows the expert by reputation, and this is the first intimation he hasreceived, that so shrewd a man is at work in the interest of CliffordHeath. 

"Is this the only message you received?"

"No, later in the day this came. "

He produced and passed over a second dispatch, which is read like thefirst. 

 _Honorable George Heathercliffe, etc. _

 Before starting find out everything you can concerning one John, or Jonathan Burrill, once in the employ of your father. 

 BATHURST. 

The two Lamottes glance uneasily at each other. Whither is thisexamination tending?

"Did you follow the instructions in this last telegram?" asks O'Meara. 

"I did. "

A bland smile widens the mouth of the little Irish lawyer. He waves hishand magisterially. 

"That is all, for the present, Mr. Heathercliffe, " he says, suavely, andamazement sits on every countenance. 

And now Mr. Rand bends forward and flings himself into the arena, whileO'Meara leans back in his chair, his eyes twinkling maliciously. 

"Mr. Heathercliffe, " begins the cross-examiner, "Your two dispatches aresigned 'Bathurst. ' Who is this Bathurst?"

"Mr. Bathurst, sir, is a very able detective. "

"Ah! He is known to you, I presume?"

"He is, " bowing gravely. 

"Now, Mr. Heathercliffe, it strikes me as singular that an Englishgentleman should be on such familiar terms with a Yankee detective; andstill more strange that an English nobleman should be masquerading inAmerica, as a country physician. I should like an explanation of thesethings. "

"My brother came to America on account of family troubles, sir. Is it_necessary_ that I make a fuller statement?"

He asks this hesitatingly, and Mr. Rand fancies that he sees a point tobe gained. He does not see that O'Meara is struggling to conceal thesmile of satisfaction that _will_ creep into his face. 

"_I_ consider it necessary, sir. It is high time that we knew why wehave been honored by this _incognito_--nobleman. "

The witness turns an unruffled countenance towards the judge. 

"If the Court will permit me to tell my brother's story in my own way, (it will take some time, ) I shall be glad to enlighten this legalgentleman. "

The Court gives its gracious permission; Attorney Rand resumes his seat;O'Meara fairly grins his delight; Constance leans forward, breathlessly;the prisoner casts one look about him, and then rests his head upon hishand; there is breathless silence in the court, as the Honorable GeorgeHeathercliffe begins:

"I have said that the prisoner at the Bar, is my elder brother; threeyears ago he was not _Sir_ Clifford Heathercliffe, not my eldestbrother. 

"The name of Sir Herbert Heathercliffe is, no doubt, unknown to all herepresent--except Mr. Bathurst, if that gentleman is here--but England hasrung with that name, and the Heathercliffe pride has been lowered to thedust, because of it. 

"Sir Herbert was the pet and favorite of our father, and possessed overhim a strong magnetic influence. He was less than two years older thanClifford, and the two closely resembled each other. 

"From their academic days, Herbert was an idler, a spendthrift, a squireof dames, _par excellence_. Clifford was devoted to study, and notenamored of society. 

"It is not my purpose to follow step by step the downward career of mybrother Herbert, only such of his misdeeds as affected Clifford need bebrought forward here. 

"I have said that Herbert was a spendthrift. He was perpetuallyborrowing of Clifford, and always in debt. 

"When Clifford, who had a monomania for the medical profession, announced his intention to go to Germany and pursue his studies there, the first trouble came. 

"Herbert, who for his own selfish ends, wished to keep Clifford and hispurse nearer Cliffe Towers, incited my father to oppose the scheme. Thiswas easy. Lord Heathercliffe did not believe in the dignity of labor, and the two voted this new departure a family disgrace. They said somuch, and in such offensive language, that Clifford, in open defiance ofhis father's commands, turned his back upon us all, and went toHeidelberg. 

"But, Herbert's career had only began. In a little while, it wasdiscovered that our father's name had been forged for a large amount, and suspicion pointed to my brother Clifford. He came in hot haste onreceipt of a telegram, and he did not come alone. He brought with him, Detective Bathurst, whom he was so fortunate as to find at ScotlandYards. 

"I need not dwell on what followed; Bathurst is a keen detective; hevindicated my brother, Clifford, and placed the guilt where it belonged. It was Herbert who had forged my father's name. 

"There was a terrible scene at the Towers. Herbert swore eternal enmitytoward Clifford, and Clifford predicted then and there the downfall ofall our pride, through Herbert's follies. I remember his wordsdistinctly:

"'Let me tell you how this will end, Lord Heathercliffe, ' he said; 'Ihave not grown up beside Herbert, not to know him. Our name hasheretofore been stainless; we shall keep it so no longer; it will bedragged in the mud, smirched, hissed, disgraced utterly. But I willnever permit myself to go down with the fall of the Heathercliffes; Irenounce all claims upon you; I renounce my succession; I renounce aname already contaminated; the world is my heritage; I shall leaveEngland; I shall leave Europe; I will make me a new name, and build myown fortune. When Herbert has broken your heart, and ruined yourfortunes, as he surely will, and when his debaucheries have brought himto an early grave, as they must, then let the title fall to George; heis younger; he can not feel this shame so keenly; as for me, I willnever wear the title; I will never be pointed out as the peer whoseelder brother was a rake, a seducer, a forger, and Herbert is allthese. '

"Clifford went back to Heidelberg; Herbert remained at the Towers, whining, pleading, shamefully fawning upon a doting and half imbecileold man. 

"He feigned illness; he feigned penitence, and finally he held my fathermore than ever his adoring slave. 

"I can not prolong this recital. It is needless. Herbert ran his race ofinfamy. My father died broken hearted. Clifford searched all England tobring Herbert, then a fugitive, to his father's death bed; but theofficers of justice were before him. They ran him down in an obscureprovincial village, and, to escape the consequences of his misdeeds, Herbert Heathercliffe crowned his life of mad folly by dying a suicide'sdeath. 

"And now I must turn a page in my own personal history:

"Prior to my father's death, I had formed an attachment for the onlydaughter of a proud and wealthy country gentleman, our neighbor. But Iwas a younger son, and by my father's will, made upon his death-bed, Clifford was his heir. Herbert had squandered half our father's fortune, but a handsome sum still remained. 

"Realizing the hopelessness of my suit, I was preparing to quit England, taking with me my mother's legacy, which would amply suffice for abachelor's wants, but was too meager a sum to lay at the feet of abeauty and an heiress. To make my departure more bitter, I had learnedthat the woman of my choice returned my affections. 

"Then Sir Clifford swooped down upon me. Before I could guess hisintent, he had sought and gained the consent of my wife's father; hadtransferred to me all his fortune, reserving only his mother's legacy, which was the same as mine. He forced me to accept by the strength ofhis splendid will. He installed me as master of Cliffe Towers. Hehastened the marriage preparations. He remained long enough to dance atour wedding, and then he left us--proud as a king, independent as agypsy, blameless, fearless, high-souled. 

"He came to America, and never permitted us to know his whereabouts. Atregular intervals, we received his letters--many whimsical descriptionsof his new life and new pursuits, but we always addressed him in NewYork, and our letters, bearing the English seal, came to him under anAmerican disguise. We did not so much as know the name he had assumed. 

"This, gentlemen, is the true reason why Sir Clifford Heathercliffe, thetruest, the noblest of English gentlemen, came among you as one ofyourselves. 

"I have one more word to say. Sir Clifford never saw the man, JohnBurrill; but our brother Herbert knew him well. Burrill was his tool andaccomplice in many shameful escapades. They came to grief together;quarreled fearfully, and, when Herbert fled for his life, Burrill withhis wife made his escape to America. All that I have said concerningthis Burrill will be verified by Detective Bathurst. "

Then turning toward Mr. Rand: "Is my explanation sufficient, sir?"

The lawyer only bows his head, and the handsome Englishman takes hisseat while the house rings with applause. Evidently his tersely toldstory of brotherly sacrifice has touched the "humanness" of thatstrangely-mixed audience. 

During the moment of clamor and confusion, Doctor Benoit enters thecourt room, and almost unobserved seats himself beside the New Yorkmedical experts. 

A smile of gratification comes to O'Meara's face at sight of this latearrival, and when the court is restored to quiet, he says:

"Let Doctor Benoit be sworn. "

The doctor testifies as follows:

Being called to examine the wounds upon the person of John Burrill, hefound that they could not have been made with the knife found with thebody. The identical knife being put into his hands, he explains how acut made by such a keen, heavy weapon, must appear, and describes theknife that must have been used upon the body. 

"It was a smaller weapon, " he says, "thinner bladed and much lighter. Itmust have been shorter by two or three inches. "

Then he adds that the surgeon's knife has never been used upon a body;the blood has been smeared on by an inartistic hand. 

"It would be impossible, " he says, "to withdraw this knife from ableeding wound with no other blood marks than those it bears. "

Doctor Gaylor and Professor Harrington corroborate his every statement, and when their testimony is done there is another sensation in the courtroom. 

As Doctor Benoit passes by O'Meara, in returning from the witness stand, he tosses over a piece of paper, which the lawyer seizes, scans eagerly, and stows carefully away. 

He consults some papers for a moment, and then says:

"I wish to recall Francis Lamotte. "

Frank comes again upon the stand; his eyes seem fixed on vacancy; hisface is white and rigid; his answers come in a dry monotone. 

"Mr. Lamotte, " begins O'Meara, briskly. "It is understood that you havebeen a student in Doctor Heath's office. "

"That is true. "

"During the time you studied there, had you free access to the office atall hours?"

"I had. "

"I judge, then, that you must have possessed a pass key?"

"I did. "

"Is that key still in your possession?"

"No. "

"How did you dispose of that key?"

"I think it was lost; it has been out of my possession for some time. "

"Where did you lose this key?"

"I do not remember; possibly at home, possibly at the office. It hasbeen out of my possession for some time. "

"Since losing your key, how did you gain access to the office in thedoctor's absence?"

"I have visited the office very seldom of late, and not once sincelosing the key, in the absence of Doctor Heath. "

"Mr. Lamotte, was there any way to distinguish your lost key from thatused by my client?"

"Yes; my key was newer than his, and brighter. "

"It was my client's custom to keep an extra suit of clothes in hisoffice closet, was it not?"

"Yes. "

"And it would be very natural that, in exchanging one garment foranother, a glove or handkerchief should be sometimes left in thediscarded garment?"

"Quite natural. "

"Now let us suppose that, on the night of the murder, my client, returning from a visit to Mapleton, where he was called to attend uponthe wife of the murdered man, halted at his office, hung up his outercoat, and sat for a little time, writing or reading, or perhapsmeditating. 

"Let us suppose that on preparing to face the wind, that was risingrapidly, and blowing chill, he substituted a heavy overcoat for the onehe had worn earlier in the evening; and that he discovered, when halfway home, that he had left his much needed handkerchief with hisdiscarded coat. 

"Would it not be quite an easy matter for some one who had obtainedpossession of your key, _and was sufficiently familiar with the bearingsof the office to move about in the dark_, or by the dim fire-light, toenter that office, remove the surgeon's knife from its case, pilfer ahandkerchief from the coat pocket, and escape unseen?"

"It would--I should think. "

"If this person having the key, the knife, and the handkerchief, all inhis possession, should go and fling them all into the old cellar on theBurns' place, you would call that singular?"

"Yes, " from lips white and parched. 

O'Meara turns suddenly and takes something from the table. 

"Mr. Lamotte, take this key, examine it well. Does it at all resemblethe one you--_lost_?"

Frank takes the key, mechanically, turns it about with nervelessfingers, scarcely glances at it. 

"I think--it is--the same, " he mutters, hoarsely. 

"You think it is your lost key. Mr. Lamotte, do you know where this keywas found?"

"No, " stolidly. 

"I will tell you. It was found in the old cellar, embedded in the mud, _close beside the dead body of John Burrill_. "

[Illustration: "It was found beside the body of John Burrill. "]

Frank Lamotte's hands go up to his head, his pale face becomes livid, his eyes seem starting from their sockets; he gasps, staggers, fallsheavily in a dead faint. 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

JUSTICE, SACRIFICE, DEATH. 

And there is confusion in the court room. 

Mr. Rand bounds angrily to his feet, then reseats himself suddenly, andwithout opening his lips. 

As they bear Frank Lamotte from the room, O'Meara's voice rises andrings clear above the buzz and bustle:

"That witness must not be permitted to leave the court. "

Then he stands gazing about him like a small, rampant lion; his eyesflashing, his nostrils quivering, his whole manner betokening that he iswarming to his work. 

Presently the room is quiet again, and O'Meara addresses the court:

"Your honor, and gentlemen; I have been successful beyond myexpectations. You see what a guilty conscience can do. I wished toconvince this court that my client has enemies in W----; powerful, unsuspected, enemies. I wished also to demonstrate to Mr. Rand, how easyit is to obtain circumstantial evidence. The witness may recover at hisleisure. I have nothing more to say to him. "

While he is speaking, Mr. Lamotte and Doctor Benoit, who had hastenedout to attend upon Frank, re-enter, and resume their places, the formerlooking harassed and uneasy, the latter, bland as ever, and nodding anassurance that the patient is recovering safely. 

"My next witness, " says O'Meara, "is private detective Jerry Belknap;but, before this gentleman is sworn, I desire the clerk to read aloud, _very_ loud, the testimony lately given by Mr. Jasper Lamotte. I wantMr. Lamotte's testimony to be fresh in the minds of the jury when theylisten to Mr. Belknap. "

Strive as he will, Jasper Lamotte can not wear a look of entireunconcern, although his self-control is marvellous. 

What does Jerry Belknap know concerning this case? Why is _he_ here as awitness? Mr. Lamotte is speedily enlightened. 

While the clerk reads his recent testimony, Jerry Belknap takes hisplace upon the stand. Not the Belknap Jasper Lamotte has known; not theBelknap of Constance Wardour's recollection; but Jerry Belknap, in_propria persona_, shorn of all disguise. 

He is a man well up in his thirties, medium in height, slender inperson, with a dark, smooth shaven face, keen, restless eyes, black, closely cropped hair. 

The clerk having finished the reading, Mr. O'Meara addresses the witnesswith marked courtesy. 

"Mr. Belknap, you have heard the reading of Mr. Lamotte's testimony. Youhave heard Mr. Rand say that two important witnesses are absent, namely, a certain Brooks, and Mrs. Nance Burrill. You have heard Mr. Lamotte saythat he knows nothing of the whereabouts of Nance Burrill, that he knowsnothing of Brooks. 

"Now, as Mr. Lamotte can not enlighten us, and as the attorney for theprosecution is very anxious about these two witnesses, will you justtell the court what you know of Mr. Brooks, and Nance Burrill, asconnected with this case?"

Jerry Belknap bows to O'Meara, bows to the Court, wipes his mouth with awhite silk handkerchief, and begins:

"I came to W---- on professional business, and, having obtainedpermission, through Mr. O'Meara, I may state here what that businesswas. 

"I came on behalf of Miss Wardour, to investigate the noted diamondrobbery. I have been in and about W---- for some time, but always indisguise, this being the first time my real face has been visible. 

"Not long ago a stranger accosted me and put into my hands a letter. Theletter bade me follow the instructions of the bearer of the same withoutfear, or question. Now Mr. Bathurst commands me at all times, and like agood soldier I obeyed my superior officer. I placed myself under theorders of Mr. Bathurst's deputy, who is himself a clever detective, andthis is what he told me:

"Mr. Bathurst had been operating in W---- for weeks, under my very nose, and, although I knew him, and am called a tolerable detective, I neverfound him out. He knew me, however, from the first, knew me all along, although I, several times, changed my disguise. _His_ disguise was tooperfect, and he is too good an actor, ever to betray himself. 

"That disguise having served his purpose, and having been thrown asidefor good, I can safely comply with Mr. O'Meara's request and oblige thegentleman for the prosecution. 

"The missing witness known as Brooks, the red-headed drunken mechanic, was officer Bathurst and none other. "

Again there is a buzz in the court room. 

The prisoner turns upon his counsel a look of profound wonder. 

Constance clasps her hands delightedly and begins to brighten with hope. 

Jasper Lamotte wears a look of consternation. 

"Mr. Bathurst's instructions were brief, " resumes Mr. Belknap after amoment's pause. "I was to present myself to Mr. Lamotte under somepretext of business. I am slightly known to Mr. Lamotte through myconnection with the Wardour case and could approach him without creatingsuspicion. I was to accept any commissions he might wish me to execute. 

"I presented myself to Jasper Lamotte; he had a piece of work for me. Hetold me that he had good reasons for wishing the woman Nance Burrill outof the town; he wished her no harm, but she was in his way. If I wouldget her away, on some pretext, he would pay me well. Acting underinstructions, I approached the woman, making her acquaintance easilythrough her little boy. She is very ignorant and very foolish. Idisplayed a little money, offered her a profitable situation in NewYork, paid her a month's wages in advance and took her and her child tothe city, where I hired a small furnished cottage, and installed her ashousekeeper. Not being informed that her evidence was wanted on thisoccasion she is there still. "

When Jerry Belknap began his story, Jasper Lamotte had drawn nearer tothe prosecuting attorney, and, before the story was done, a slip ofpaper had made its way into the hands of the latter gentleman, bearingthese words:

"For God's sake don't cross-examine that witness. "

Consequently, in response to O'Meara's unnecessarily polite query, "Willthe attorney for the prosecution be pleased to cross-examine thiswitness?"--Mr. Rand only scowled over at his antagonist, and shook hishead savagely. 

"This, I trust, " begins O'Meara, before the last witness is fairlyseated, "sufficiently explains the absence of these two _important_witnesses. It would seem that the absence of one at least was moreimportant than her presence. Mr. Lamotte, at least, should be grateful. He desired Nance Burrill's absence; she is not here; and as no summonswas issued for this woman--either by the prosecution or defense, no onecan accuse me of hampering the progress of the law, and of thishonorable court. "

Mr. Rand bounds up, fire in his eye. 

"It may not be rulable nor dignified, " he begins hotly, "but I demand amoment's hearing. This whole trial has been irregular, from first tolast. 

"The gentleman brings forward an honorable witness from over the water;a witness who brings out the accused in a new character; covers him witha blaze of glory; this is very good, and very theatrical. Let us grantthat the accused _is_ Sir Clifford Heathercliffe. Does that alter thefact that John Burrill went straight to his door, straight to the doorof his sworn enemy, and was never again seen alive. He seeks toimplicate Frank Lamotte, and to impeach the integrity of Jasper Lamotte, an honorable gentleman, against whom there was never yet a breath ofsuspicion. It will not alter the facts in the case. Clifford Heath'senemy was found dead close by Clifford Heath's door! He has blackenedthe character of the dead; he has struck hard at the honorable living. He has flooded the court with the testimony of mysterious strangers; hehas suppressed known witnesses; he has worked his will with us. But hehas not disproved one item of evidence; he has not changed one fact orphase of the case. Let us grant all he has proven, what have we left?_The unalterable facts_, that the prisoner has repeatedly threatened hisvictim; that the murdered man set out to visit the prisoner, at night, through the darkness, and was found early the following morning, beforethe body could be removed to a safer hiding place, his face covered bythe prisoner's own linen; his gaping wounds giving evidence of apracticed hand; the prisoner's knife buried with him; the _key_ of theprisoner's office or house lying beside the shallow grave. Facts tell, gentlemen; these _are facts_. "

These words rush from his lips torrent like. 

He has turned to face the jury and so does not see that O'Meara haslounged back to his seat, with an air of perfect unconcern, and that heis actually signaling the judge not to stay this whirlwind; a proceedingwhich so astounds that official, that for full five minutes the tide ofspeech flows on, lava like. 

On the audience, it has a startling effect. He is speaking the truth. Heis reiterating facts, and facts are sure of instant recognition by ourYankee countrymen. 

A thrill runs through the assembly; there comes one of those suddenrevulsions of feeling, common to scenes like this. Sir CliffordHeathercliffe disappears from before their dazzled vision; what theysee, in the light of stern facts, is Clifford Heath, the murderer. 

"These are facts, " reiterates Mr. Rand, excitedly. "Who has seen thiswonderful Bathurst, with his bundle of testimony? Who knows the man? Whyis he not here in court? _Where is he?_"

"_Here!_"

Clear and full the voice rings over the room, transfixing for one momentthe entire court; then the gavel descends; order is commanded withdouble unction, because of the recent lapse. Mr. O'Meara is on his feet;Mr. Rand's impromptu speech is at an end. 

"More theatricals, " snarls Mr. Rand, flinging himself violently downinto his seat. 

But no one heeds him; all eyes are fixed upon the new comers. 

Near the door of the court room they stand grouped close together. 

Mr. Wedron, dignified and placid as usual. 

Mrs. Lamotte, with head proudly poised, and eyes that seem wells ofpent-up anguish. 

Evan Lamotte, looking like a lost and almost disembodied spirit. 

Frank Lamotte, who during the time Mr. Belknap has occupied in givinghis testimony, has quietly re-entered the room, seeming to haverecovered, and looking almost composed, looks with the rest, and is oncemore, for a moment, startled out of all semblance of calmness; he startsup from his seat, then sinks back weakly, a desperate hunted look in hiseyes, his hands clenched and working nervously. 

They came slowly forward--Evan Lamotte, supported on either side by hismother and the _soi-disant_ Mr. Wedron, of the New York Bar. 

[Illustration: They come slowly forward. ]

They pass so close that the lady's trailing silks brush against the feetof Jasper Lamotte, but she never vouchsafes a glance to husband or son, and Evan's eyes are set straight before him, fixed on vacancy--unseeingorbs of fire, set in a spectral face. 

Presently, they are seated near the group gathered about the prisoner, and then Mr. Wedron confers with Mr. O'Meara. 

As they talk, the little lawyer's face becomes grave, even to sadness, and when he rises to address the Court, his tone is subdued, his mannerthat of one performing a painful task. 

"May it please the Court, " he says, slowly, "the witnesses for whom Iwaited have come. As one of them is just recovering from a seriousillness, Mr. Bathurst has thought it best that a reliable physicianshould certify to his perfect ability to testify at this time. LetDoctor Benoit be sworn. "

It is done, and in the same grave and subdued manner Doctor Benoit bearswitness, as follows:

"I have been in attendance at Mapleton for some weeks past. Evan Lamottehas been one of my patients. He has been very ill, and delirious almostconstantly. It is less than a week since he entirely recovered hisreasoning faculties. To-day, at the request of Mr. Wedron, I subjectedhim to various tests, and I freely pronounce him perfectly sane--as saneas any here in this court room. If any one is inclined to question mystatement, I shall desire Professor Harrington and Doctor Gaylor toexamine the witness. "

There is profound silence for a moment, then O'Meara says, quietly:

"Will Detective Bathurst take the stand?"

The gentleman who has become known to many in W---- as Mr. Wedron, ofthe New York Bar, left his place near Evan Lamotte, and came quietlyforward. Having been duly sworn, Mr. O'Meara said:

"Mr. Bathurst, you have been connected with this case from the first. Tell us what you have discovered, in your own way. "

The detective bowed, took off a pair of gold-rimmed eye-glasses, andturned upon the court a pair of bright, piercing, handsome, dark blueeyes, that proved themselves capable of numberless expressions. 

"My name is Neil J. Bathurst, " he began, "and I am a detective. I cameto W---- for the first time early in the summer--in June, I believe. Icame on professional business. To my surprise, and quite by accident, Ifound Sir Clifford Heathercliffe here in the character of Doctor Heath. My business in W---- was in no way connected with Sir Clifford, butbefore I left the town, which was on the third day after my arrival, Ibecame aware that he had an enemy here. I left W---- to return in ashort time, and I figured among the factory people as Brooks, thedrunken mechanic. Mr. Lamotte employed me twice and twice discharged mebecause of my intemperance. I became quite intimate and friendly withJohn Burrill, and succeeded in gaining his confidence. I was also ongood terms with Nance Burrill, John Burrill's divorced wife, and Ilearned a good many things from her. 

"Early in the autumn it came to my knowledge that Sir Clifford's enemieshad begun to move, that a plan was on foot against him. About this timeI discovered that several people needed looking after, and I sent for aboy shadower. He came, and did his work well. He is not here, becausehis testimony is not needed. 

"You will understand that I had now more than one operation on my hands. I was still engaged upon the case which first brought me to W----, and Iwas intent upon frustrating the designs of Sir Clifford's enemies. He, Sir Clifford, was not aware of my presence in W----, and he was likewiseignorant of the plot against him. 

"Early in November, I found it expedient to appear in W---- in a newcharacter. Brooks had done his work. Accordingly, I, as Brooks, set outfor the city one morning, leaving my shadower in charge of the field. Jasper Lamotte went to the city by the same train, and, singularcoincidence, he came back on the train which brought me. I returned, asMr. Wedron, an attorney, and I brought with me an assistant (for theplot was thickening fast), who assumed the character of a book peddler. I was absent only two days, but, during that time, the entire drama hadundergone a transformation. 

"Before I had been half an hour in W----, I had received the report ofmy shadower; it was startling. John Burrill had been murdered. Here wasa disappointment. I had fully intended that Burrill should do somehonest work in the State penitentiary, and was almost prepared to makesome arrests. I attended the inquest, and was again discomfited. Theenemies of Sir Clifford had abandoned their first infamous scheme forhis ruin, and had succeeded in fastening this miserable crime upon him. Standing there in the presence of all the actors in the tragedy, andlistening to the witnesses before the coroner, I decided what course topursue. I would make my other operations a secondary affair, and devotemyself to the task of finding John Burrill's murderer. I presentedmyself to Mr. O'Meara, and made known my identity; we decided to acttogether, and at once set to work. 

"I knew that Francis Lamotte was Sir Clifford's secret enemy, and, naturally, I began to study him, and to watch him. You have heard histestimony to-day, and you know how easy it would have been for him, first to follow and to kill John Burrill, and next to cast suspicionupon an innocent man. I could prefer a charge against him, and bringsome circumstantial evidence to back it; but this would not vindicateSir Clifford, and would complicate affairs very much. What I wanted, was_proof_ positive, absolute. So I waited, and studied the case. Of onething I was assured; Francis Lamotte, whether guilty or innocent, knewmore of that murder than he chose to tell. 

"One day, while in conversation with Miss Wardour, I chanced to mentionthe name of Evan Lamotte, adding something not complimentary to thatyoung gentleman. Miss Wardour took fire at once. She assured me thatEvan Lamotte was _not_ what people sought to make him; that in spite ofhis weaknesses, he had many noble and lovable qualities. She told me howhe came to her when the first shock of his sister's flight was upon him;she described, vividly, his passion, his sorrow, his love for hissister. He spoke of her as the only being on earth whom he truly loved, the only one who had been unvaryingly kind to him. He cursed thedestroyers of his sister's happiness, and implored Miss Wardour not toabandon that unfortunate sister. He said that he believed she wouldreturn, and he implored her to visit his parents, and intercede inbehalf of the fugitive. 

"Miss Wardour gave him the required promise, and then said that if thereal reason for this strange elopement _must_ remain a secret, shewished they could hit upon some explanation that would spare thefugitive as much as possible, and satisfy the gossips. Instantly hesprang up, declaring that he would furnish a reason, a reason that noone would question, and that would spare his sister. 

"A few days later, the story was flying about W----, that to save herbrother Evan from the consequences of some evil deed, Sybil Lamotte hadsacrificed herself. 

"When Miss Wardour heard of this, she knew that Evan Lamotte had allowedhimself to be defamed for his sister's sake. She knew that the truereasons for her friend's _mesalliance_ was hidden safely beneath abrother's sacrifice. 

"Miss Wardour told me this, and much more, in praise of Evan Lamotte;and here, for his sake, let me say, that in studying John Burrill andFrancis Lamotte, I had discovered that Sybil Lamotte had been made tobelieve, that the honor and safety of her father and _elder_ brother, depended upon her sacrifice, when the truth is, that she was _sold_. Simply sold--for their convenience, and their gain. 

"You have looked upon Jasper Lamotte as an honorable citizen. On the dayof John Burrill's funeral, I resumed my old disguise, that of Brooks, and went to Mapleton; I told Mr. Lamotte that I had come as a friend ofhis, and of Burrill's, to warn him, that if Nance Burrill was allowed toremain in W----, she would be brought forward at this trial, and givedamaging evidence against his dead son-in-law. 

"I remained in the library with him some fifteen minutes. My errand wasa trap, and he fell into it. What followed, Mr. Belknap has alreadytold. In the presence of this court, Jasper Lamotte has perjuredhimself. Let the officers of the law keep this fact in mind. 

"Now, to return to my witness. When I heard Miss Wardour's glowingvindication of Evan Lamotte, I said to myself, 'Here is the rightperson. Evan Lamotte is the one who can clear up this mystery. ' It wasclear as day to my eyes. 

"It was necessary that I should see him, but I very soon learned that hewas lying at his home dangerously ill, and quite out of his senses. There was nothing to do but to wait. I made the acquaintance of DoctorBenoit, and from him I obtained daily news of his patient. 

"At the eleventh hour, when I had begun to despair of his recovery, thedoctor reported the patient restored to his senses. I then told him, Doctor Benoit, that the very moment Evan Lamotte was able to listen, andto talk rationally, I must see him. That the case was one of life anddeath. 

"This day, at the very hour when the trial was called, I set out forMapleton; I saw Evan Lamotte; I told him that Clifford Heath was ontrial for the murder of John Burrill; and that the chances were againsthim. 

"It is not necessary to repeat all that passed between us, the resultis, that Evan Lamotte comes into this court of his own free will andaccord, and it is his desire that he be allowed to tell his own story. 

"He comes here freely, willingly, asking nothing, hoping nothing, andwhen this audience has heard his testimony, they will join me inpronouncing him the noblest Lamotte of them all. "

There is a look so weird, so unearthly, in the eyes of Evan Lamotte, ashe comes forward and turns his face slowly upon the audience, so thatall can see its ghastly contrast with those burning orbs, that astartled hush falls upon them all, a funereal silence pervades the room. 

They seem to note for the first time, what a solemn thing is the oath, which Evan takes with voice, hollow and weak, but calm and fall ofdecision. 

His breath comes in short gasps, his sentences are broken, the fatiguecaused by his effort to speak is evident. But he goes on to the end, andthis is what he says:

"When I learned that my sister's life had been ruined, I was a madman; Idid not know for a time why she had thus thrown herself away, but Idetermined that I would know, and I set myself to spy upon my ownfamily. 

"If the detective had not told you this truth I should withhold it now, for we all have a sufficient burden of shame upon us. 

"I watched and I listened and I learned why Sybil had been sacrificed. 

"At first I thought I would openly assault Burrill, would compel him toresist and would make his life as uncomfortable as possible; I was amadman. 

"Constance Wardour told me it was not the way to help Sybil; that such acourse would only cause her added sorrow. When I grew calmer I saw thatConny was right. I promised her to do nothing that would add to my poorsister's unhappiness. 

"By and by they came home, and I saw the misery in my sister's face; dayby day it deepened, her eyes growing hollow and wild, and full ofunutterable horror and fear, her face growing paler and thinner, andsadder, her hands so weak and tremulous, all appealed to me, allmaddened me afresh. I resolved that in some way I would free her. Buthow?

"Day after day I brooded upon it. Burrill became more bestial, morebesotted, more contemptible, every day. My sister's strength was almostgone, her reason was tottering. 

"I began to cultivate Burrill. I flattered him; I caroused with him. Ihad sunk so low myself that he could feel at ease with me. But drunk orsober I never once forgot a resolve I had taken. Matters were going frombad to worse. It must be Sybil's life or _his_. I resolved that itshould _not_ be my sister who was sacrificed. 

"When I found that no more time could be wasted, I laid my plans. Ifeigned illness and kept my room for several days. 

"Burrill came daily to see me. I told him that I had some rare new funin my head, and we planned that I should feign to be worse than usual. Burrill knew that our people had made efforts to stop our nocturnalexpeditions, and he agreed with me that the thing should be kept secret. On that last night he left the house early, saying that he would spend acouple of hours at 'Old Forty's, ' and then meet me at a place appointed. 

"At nine o'clock I stole out, and no one at Mapleton discovered myabsence. I did not intend that they should. I waited at the placeappointed for our meeting until I grew impatient. The time came for himto appear; he did not come. I knew where I should find him, and set outfor 'Forty Rods. ' I was determined to let that night end Sybil'stroubles. 

"Half way between the saloon and Doctor Heath's I saw him. He passedclose to me, as I came up from Mill avenue, and reeled across the road. He was not going toward our rendezvous, but away from it. 

"I followed stealthily. I did not make my nearness known. I think he wastoo drunk to know where he was going or where to stop. He reeled pastDoctor Heath's house, and was nearly opposite the gate of the empty lotbefore he discovered that he had gone too far. 

"He turned, and while he leaned against the fence and seemed to ponder, I crept upon him, knife in hand; I struck him, once, again, a thirdtime. He uttered one groan loud enough to have been heard some distanceaway, and then fell heavily. I had struck home. When I was sure that hewas dead--I seemed to know just how to act--I ran to the gate of theBurns' lot and opened it wide. The body was twice my weight but Idragged it inside before my strength gave out. 

"Then, for a while, I seemed panic stricken. What should I do with thatbody? By and by, I thought of a way to get help. I waited untilmidnight, then I made my way to Mapleton, all blood stained, andcarrying the knife with me. Unseen I entered and gained Frank's room. Hewas up and pacing the floor; I told him to follow me. He saw myblood-stained hands and garments; I opened my coat and displayed theknife, and he obeyed me. I told him what I had done, and that he musthelp me conceal the body. For a moment he seemed stunned, and then heassisted me with surprising readiness; he planned everything; in fact, took the lead from that moment. I thought he was working to save hisbrother. The detective has told me the truth, and abjured me to tell allI know. 

"Frank left me at the foot of the stairs leading to Heath's office. Whenhe came down he seemed much excited, and hurried on very fast. Wescooped out a grave in the cellar, as best we could in the dark, Frankworking actively. He told me to take my knife and throw it into the oldwell--if you look you will find it there. While I was doing it, he musthave put the other knife in the grave. When I came back he had coveredthe face with something white. I did not think about it at the time; nowI know that it was Doctor Heath's handkerchief. 

"Doctor Heath is an innocent man. _I_ killed John Burrill; I am here toaccept the consequences. I did the deed to save my sister. I do notregret it. "

Then, turning toward the place where Frank Lamotte sits, cowering andpanic stricken, he stretches out one spectral hand and says:

"Frank! Frank Lamotte, do the only thing left you to do; stand up andsay that I have spoken the truth. Let us end this at once, Frank!"

Like one roused from some strange stupor, Frank staggers to his feet. 

"It is all true!" he gasps. "Evan has told nothing but the truth. " Thenhe falls back in his seat more dead than alive. 

To describe the triumph of O'Meara; the mingled pity and gladness thatfills the heart of Constance; the rejoicings of Clifford Heath'sfriends, one and all; the misery and the shame that overwhelmed theLamottes, would be useless. 

The excitement of the audience, judge and jury, can be imagined betterthan described. 

The tragic farce is at an end. The case is given to the jury. Withoutquitting their places, they return their verdict. Clifford Heath is notguilty; is honorably acquitted. 

Exhausted by his recent effort, Evan Lamotte is carried from the courtroom, closely attended by his mother; is carried to the cell wherelately Clifford Heath has dwelt a prisoner, while the latter is escortedin triumph, to O'Meara's, by all his rejoicing friends. 

As the procession of conquerors moves away from the entrance, an officerapproaches Jasper Lamotte. 

"Mr. Lamotte, I am very sorry, sir, but you must consider yourself myprisoner. "

Jasper Lamotte bows coldly, and signals the man that he will follow him. 

The officer turns to Frank, but before he can open his lips, themiserable young man steps back, makes one quick movement; there is aflash, a loud report, and Frank Lamotte falls forward, to be caught inthe arms of a by-stander. 

[Illustration: There is a flash--a loud report. ]

They lay him gently down, and Jasper Lamotte bids them send for aphysician; there must be one very near. 

But Frank beckons his father to come close, and when the others havedrawn back, this is what the father hears, from the son's lips:

"There is another--pistol in--my pocket--I meant it for Evan, --you--hadbetter--use it. "

Horrible words from the lips of a dying son. They are his last. BeforeDoctor Benoit can turn back and reach his side, Frank Lamotte hasfinished his career of folly, and sin, and shame, dying as he had lived, selfishly, like a coward. 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

A SPARTAN MOTHER. 

"I never before in all my career, brought to justice a criminal whom Iboth pitied unreservedly, and justified fully. Viewing all things fromhis standpoint, Evan Lamotte is less a murderer than a martyr. "

It is the day after the trial with so strange an ending. They are seatedin O'Meara's library; Constance, Mrs. Aliston, Mrs. O'Meara, SirClifford, his brother, the Honorable George Heathercliffe, Ray Vandyck, O'Meara, and Mr. Bathurst. Mr. Bathurst, who now appears what he _is_; ahandsome gentleman, about thirty years of age, clever, vivacious, eminently agreeable. Mr. Wedron, like Brooks, has served out his day, and been set aside. 

They have assembled at the detective's request, and while fullyexpecting a revelation of some sort, they look a serene, and not anapprehensive party. 

"Poor Evan, " sighs Constance; "I pity him most sincerely; I shall go andsee him. "

"_We_ will go and see him, " corrects Sir Clifford, and she smiles, anddoes not dispute the correction. 

"Before I begin my other story, " says the detective, "I may as well tellyou of my visit yesterday, and how my news was received. 

"From the moment when I heard Miss Wardour's description of EvanLamotte, I knew he was our man. But I was determined to have no moremistakes. So I kept my opinion to myself. You can imagine how anxiouslyI hung upon the words of Doctor Benoit, knowing that upon this boy'schances for life hung Sir Clifford's life, liberty, and honor. 

"When I saw that poor, pale, wreck of humanity, my heart almost failedme. How could I drag his secret from him? But no time was to be lost, and, as best I could, I told him everything. First, that his sisterbelieved herself the guilty one; guilty, at least, in that she hadinstigated the deed, and next, that Sir Clifford was now the victim ofthis crime. His mind at once seemed to grasp the issue. He had listenedto me intently, breathlessly almost; he now lifted himself suddenly fromthe bed, and said quickly:

"'Why, then, it seems I have not saved Sybil yet. Call my mother! let mesee her alone. '

"I obeyed him without a question; they were alone together for a longhalf hour, then Mrs. Lamotte came to me with the same look upon her facethat you saw in court. 

"'Evan tells me that you know everything, ' she said, her voice tremblingin spite of herself. 'He tells me that you are a detective. Then youknow that I have _one_ son of whom I may be proud. Evan Lamotte hassaved his sister's honor. Saved it doubly. My weak, my ill-used Evan, has proven the only man a man's pride, who bears the name of Lamotte, because he could not see his sister and his mother contaminated by thepresence of the monster his father and brother had been so base as toforce upon us; he has taken justice into his own hands. He has freed hissister; he has saved her from crime, and now he stands ready to puthimself in the place of a wronged and innocent man. I shall go with himinto court; I shall not leave him again. '

"She broke off with a dry sob and turned away to prepare for the drive. 

"How I pitied that proud woman. How tender she was of her lost boy, andhow he clung to her. 

"Mr. O'Meara, " turning suddenly toward the lawyer, "we must get thatpoor fellow out of that cell. Doctor Benoit says that he can live but ashort time at best. He must not die there, and justice can not deal witha dying man. "

"I think it can be managed, " replied the lawyer. "All W---- will favorthe scheme. Not a man or woman will raise their voice against that dyingboy. He will have plenty of friends _now_. "

"He shall find them strong friends, too, " exclaimed Constance. "Mrs. O'Meara, we will stir up the whole town. "

"Then you'll get your way, " put in Bathurst. "And now. Miss Wardour, areyou ready to hear the end of the mystery surrounding the Wardourrobbery, and the Wardour diamonds?"

All eyes were turned at once upon the speaker. 

"Because I have asked you all to meet me here to-day that I might tellit, " he went on. "It will contain much that is new to you all, and itwill interest you all. I know Miss Wardour will wish you all to hear theend of her diamond case, and the fate of her robbers. "

"Of course! You are perfectly right, Mr. Bathurst, " said Constance. "Doctor Heath cuts more of a figure than he knows in this business, andRay has staid out in the cold long enough. Go on, Mr. Bathurst, exposeme in all my iniquity. But have you _really_ found the robbers?"

"Listen, " said the detective, and while they all fixed upon him theirgravest attention he began. 

CHAPTER XLV. 

TOLD BY A DETECTIVE. 

"For several years past, " began Mr. Bathurst, "the city and many of thewealthier suburban towns have been undergoing a systematic overhauling. Through the network of big thefts, and little thefts, petit larceniesand bank robberies, there has run one clear-cut burglarious specialty--astyle of depredations noticeably similar in case after case; alike in'design and execution, ' and always baffling to the officers. 

[Illustration: Bathurst telling the story. ]

"I allude to a series of robberies of jewelry and plate, a succession ofprovoking thefts, monstrous, enough to be easily traced, but executedwith such exceeding _finesse_ that, in no single instance, has theproperty been recovered, or the robbers run to earth. 

"These fastidious thieves never took money in large amounts, only tookplate when it was of the purest metal and least cumbersome sort; andalways aimed for the brightest, the purest, the costliest diamonds. Diamonds indeed seemed their specialty. 

"This gang has operated in such a gingerly, gentlemanly, mysteriousmanner, and has raided for diamonds so long and so successfully, thatthey have come to be called, among New York detectives, The DiamondCoterie, although no man knew whether they numbered two, or twenty. 

"They could always recognize their handiwork, however, and whenever thenews came that some lady in the city, or suburbs, had lost her diamonds, and that the thieves had made a 'clean job' of it, the officers said, 'that's the work of the Diamond Coterie. '

"I have been much abroad of late, but every time I came back to New Yorkthe Coterie had gathered fresh jewels into its treasure box, and no manhad found a clue to the sly fellows. 

"I began to feel interested in the clique and resolved to take a hand atthem, at the first opportunity. That opportunity came, with the news ofthe great Wardour robbery, and I came down to W----. 

"I saw enough in this robbery to interest me, for various reasons. 

"I believed I could see distinctly the handiwork of the Diamond Coterie, and I saw another thing; it was the first piece of work I had known themto bungle. And they had bungled in this. 

"I made some of my conclusions known to Miss Wardour and her friends, but I kept to myself the most important ones. 

"The story of the chloroform, so carefully administered, was one of thethings over which I pondered much; I borrowed the chloroform bottle andthe piece of linen that had been used to apply the drug, and that nightI accepted the hospitality proffered me by Sir Clifford. I took a waximpression of the vial, at his house, and I made an important discoverywhile there. 

"Sir Clifford found me half famished and ordered his housekeeper tobring in a lunch. Not wishing my identity known, I pretended to be apatient; and just as my host was leaving the room, he tossed me ahandkerchief, which he took from a side table, bidding me make myself abandage to partially conceal my face. 

"Now my eyes are trained to see much at a glance, and the moment theyfell upon that bit of white linen they were riveted there. 

"The handkerchief was precisely like the mutilated one used with thechloroform. This might be a coincidence--plain white handkerchiefs withwide borders were not uncommon, but this handkerchief was _marked_!

"I could scarcely wait until Sir Clifford should show me to my room, soanxious was I to compare the two pieces of linen. 

"The whole one bore the initials F. L. , and on the raw, torn edge of thehalf square was a black dot that was undoubtedly the fragment of aletter, or name, that had been torn hastily off. It corresponded exactlywith the lower end of the letter L. Upon the whole handkerchief given meby Sir Clifford. 

"This might be a coincidence, but it is one of my rules to suspect twocoincidences coming close together; and I had already discovered threeremarkable ones in this case. 

"Sitting alone in my room, I reflected thus:

"Take it for granted that this robbery was perpetrated by the DiamondCoterie, what are the facts?

"The robbers knew where to enter, and where to look for plunder; _ergo_, they must have known the premises. 

"They administered the deadly chloroform with nicest calculation;_ergo_, they must have known Miss Wardour. 

"One of them was something of a dandy, --witness the superfine bit ofcambric, and the print of jaunty boots where he leaped the garden fence. 

"The next morning I took unceremonious leave of my host, and set out onmy explorations. As I approached Wardour Place I met a man, whoimmediately drew my interest to himself. 

"This man was Jerry Belknap. He wore a disguise quite familiar to me, and I recognized him easily. He entered at the Wardour gate, and Isauntered on, having found new food for thought. 

"Now, a word concerning this man Belknap. 

"At one time he was an honorable member of the best detective force inthe city; but he had too much cupidity, and not enough moral firmness. Twice he allowed himself to be bribed into letting a case fall through, and finally I caught him in secret conclave with a gang of bankburglars, who were conspiring to raise a fortune for each, and escapewith their booty through the connivance of our false detective. 

"I exploded this little scheme, and compelled Belknap to withdraw fromthe force. Imagine my surprise when, a little later, Miss Wardour toldme that _Mr. Belknap_ was the detective sent down from the city by Mr. Lamotte!

"Well, Mr. Belknap went to work upon the case, and Miss Wardourconcealed me near her dining room so that I might have the pleasure oflistening to his first report. 

"That was a fortunate ambush for me. Mr. Belknap's deductions were asdiametrically opposite to mine as if he had purposely studied out thecontrast; and I was shaking my sides with the thought of how all thisplausibility must be puzzling Miss Wardour and her aunt, when a newelement was introduced into the programme. 

"Mr. Frank Lamotte, fresh from an amateur robber hunt, came into theroom. It had been arranged that Mrs. Aliston should break to this youngman the news that his sister had that day eloped with John Burrill; butfirst, he was to relate his adventures, and this he did. 

"If I can hear a voice, before seeing the face, I can usually measureits truth or falsity. Now, I had not seen Mr. Frank Lamotte, but hisvoice told me that he was rehearsing a well studied part; and, furthermore, I was assured that Belknap knew this, and purposely helpedhim on. 

"By and by Miss Wardour withdrew, and Mrs. Aliston fulfilled hermission. Then I was more than ever convinced of the fellow'sinsincerity. I heard how he received the news of his sister's flight;and when Mrs. Aliston went, in a panic, to call her niece, I heard him, when he fancied himself alone. 

"It seems he had been the bearer of a note from his sister to MissWardour, and he was now intent upon learning if that note had containedany thing damaging to himself. This much I learned from his solitarymutterings, and then Miss Wardour re-entered the room. He was half wild, until she had assured him that the note contained nothing that couldinjure him; and then he became calmer, and went out into the air torecover his breath. 

"Miss Wardour made haste to release me, and I came out of my concealmentcongratulating myself that I had been so lucky. 

"And now I found myself compelled to leave W---- just as things weregrowing very interesting; I had made my flying visit in a moment ofleisure, but my vacation had run out; duty, honor and interest, alikeimpelled me in another direction. 

"I left my address with Miss Wardour, and I promised myself that at thefirst opportunity I would return to W---- and take up my abode here fora time. 

"I had been in W---- not quite three days. I had not seen JasperLamotte, I had barely seen Frank, and I had added to my deductions madeon the night of my arrival, until the case stood like this in my mind:

"1st. The robbers were familiar with Wardour, outside and in. 

"2d. They knew Miss Wardour, and her sensitiveness to the effects ofchloroform. 

"3d. One of them was a man of gentlemanly propensities, and probablyyoung. 

"4th. They or a part of their number approached by the river, using aboat with muffled oars. 

"So much for my deductions. Now for some coincidences. 

"It was a coincidence that the handkerchief I got from Sir Cliffordshould bear Frank Lamotte's initials, and should be precisely like theone left behind by the robbers. 

"It was a coincidence that Frank Lamotte should be a student ofmedicine, who might have been quite as capable of administeringchloroform as was the burglar himself. 

"It was a coincidence that Miss Sybil Lamotte should have eloped on thevery day when her best friend was robbed, and that father, mother, andbrother were all absent in behalf of the robbed friend, thus leaving theway open to the fugitives, and giving them plenty of time to escape. 

"Now for some _facts_ that looked strange. 

"It was strange that Sybil Lamotte should leave her home to marry a manlike John Burrill, when she was known to have bestowed her heartelsewhere. 

"It was strange that Jasper Lamotte, going to the city to employ adetective, should so soon have stumbled upon Jerry Belknap, who wasidentified with no agency, and could only be reached through privatemeans. 

"It was strange that Frank Lamotte should set himself up as an amateurdetective, and should bring back a report that tallied so perfectly withthe deductions of Jerry Belknap. 

"It was strange that Miss Wardour, having just been robbed of jewels tothe amount of fifty thousand dollars, should be so little distressed, solittle agitated by her loss. 

"From deductions, coincidences and strange facts, I evolved thefollowing theory, which certainly looked well from my standpoint, butmight not hold water. You will see, that from the first I connected theWardour robbery and the Lamotte elopement. 

"Now, Sybil Lamotte's strange flight gave proof that there was askeleton in the Lamotte closet. I said:

"If this unseen Mr. Lamotte had planned this robbery, and if for somereason it seemed good that his daughter should elope, how well all wasarranged. 

"His son assisting him, they could drop down from Mapleton in their rowboat; come up from the river, and, with their plans all laid, andknowing their ground, could make quick headway. Frank Lamotte's bootheel would leave just such a print, as one of the robbers left in theloose dirt beside the garden fence. Frank Lamotte would know just how toadminister the chloroform. Then, Mr. Lamotte, in going to the city, ostensibly to procure the services of a detective, could easily take thespoils along; and his wife also, that she might be well out of hisdaughter's way. Such a man would naturally select a fellow like JerryBelknap, who would keep up a farce of investigation, and keep away allwho might, perhaps, stumble upon the truth. Frank's eagerness to beabsent on this day of his sister's flight, and to assist in the searchfor the robbers, would be thus explained; and his anxiety concerning thecontents of his sister's letter might be easily traced to a guiltyconscience. 

"But my theories were doomed to be laid aside for a time. Other dutiesclaimed me and it was four weeks before I could turn so much as athought toward W----. 

"Before leaving the city, however, I had placed my wax cast of thechloroform bottle in the hands of one of my best men, and had also givenhim a clue upon which to work. 

"My agent was wonderfully successful. He found the counterparts to thechloroform bottle, and then he began shadowing the owner of said vials. It proved to be a young woman who had formerly lived in W----, as afactory hand, but who had been transplanted to the city by FrankLamotte. 

"It is not necessary to enlarge upon the story of this girl as connectedwith Lamotte; but this must be borne in mind. During the time that myagent had this girl under surveillance, Frank Lamotte visited her, and, it is supposed that he removed the remaining bottles of the set, for onewas afterward exhumed, in fragments, from Doctor Heath's ash heap, bythe industrious Jerry Belknap, and the others have disappeared. "

At the mention of this factory girl Mrs. Aliston turned her face towardConstance, its expression saying as plainly as any language could, "Itold you so. " But Mr. Bathurst took no notice of this, and hurried onwith his story. 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

THE STORY OF LUCKY JIM. 

"From the moment when I appeared among you as Brooks, my work wasdouble. I was bent upon posting myself thoroughly in regard to JasperLamotte, and day by day I became more interested in the career of thisremarkable man. 

"Step by step, I trod backward the path of his history, since his adventin W----, gathering my information from many sources. 

"It would be tedious to enter into details; suffice it to say that whileI worked here, two others, trained to such research, were beating up thepast I was so anxious to become familiar with. And a third, across thewater, was gathering up the history of John Burrill, another object ofinterest to me at that time. 

"And now I will reverse the order in which we made our search, and, beginning where my men left off, give you, in brief, the history of aremarkable man. 

"The man we know as Jasper Lamotte figured in various cities, twenty-five years ago, and still earlier, as _Lucky Jim_, a handsome, well educated, sharp witted, confidence man. 

"He seldom gambled, and made his swindling operations of various sortsreap him a rich harvest; and, by his unvarying good luck, in escapingthe dragons of the law, as well as because of his lucky ventures, hebecame known to his intimates as Lucky Jim. 

"In these days, Miss Sybil Schuyler, the daughter of a wealthy oldMaryland aristocrat, came to the city to reside with an aunt, while shecompleted her musical education. Lucky Jim saw her, and fell in lovewith her beautiful, haughty face. 

"He contrived to make her acquaintance, and the rest was easy; it was arepetition of the old story; he was handsome and fascinating, she youngand unsophisticated, with plenty of headstrong Southern blood and selfwill. 

"After a brief courtship, Lucky Jim married the Maryland heiress. Herfather, as may be supposed, repudiated the marriage, but she clung toher scamp, and so the old Maryland aristocrat sent her a small fortune, which was hers, inherited from her mother's mother, and beyond hiscontrol; and bade her consider herself no more a Schuyler, of _the_Schuylers. 

"For a time, Lucky Jim rode smoothly on the top wave of prosperity; hiswife easily duped, believed him a Wall street operator. Frank was born, and then Sybil, and the Maryland beauty queened it in an elegant andsecluded little home. 

"But the crisis came. The silver cloud turned its dark side. 

"Lucky Jim played a losing game, one day, and his wife suddenly foundherself face to face with the truth. 

"They lived through stormy times, but Jim had, in his palmy days, lefthis wife's fortune intact, and now it proved an anchor to windward. 

"They absented themselves from this country for more than two years;then they came back, and Lucky Jim brought his family, which nowincluded Evan, to W----. The Maryland fortune enabled them to set up asaristocrats, and Lucky Jim seems to have aspired to become a power inthe community. 

"I don't think he often attempted any of his old confidence andswindling games; but, during his absences from home, which werefrequent, during his earlier residence here, he made a study of fineburglary. 

"I can fancy how carefully he put his new schemes in practice, and howhe passed himself off upon W---- as a rising speculator. 

"He probably spent years in gathering together that select society, known as the Diamond Coterie. 

"At first, it consisted of four; himself, a city pawn-broker, known asEzras, who received and negotiated the sale of the stolen goods, and whois as keen a rascal as ever escaped justice, and two noted cracksmen, who had headquarters in the city, and were famous in their day, but whowere compelled to withdraw in the midst of their high career, one dyingof a malignant fever, the other being killed by a woman. 

"To replace these departed worthies, Ezras, who was always on the alertfor pals, and who had had various crooked dealings with Jerry Belknap, brought this gentleman and Mr. Lamotte, or Lucky Jim together. 

"Belknap proved the right man in the right place, and was soon admittedinto the Coterie. Next to come under the favorable notice of Ezras, wasJohn Burrill, who had come over from England, bringing with him someill-gotten gains, and who set himself up in New York as a swellcracksman. 

"Now, Burrill, the English boor, had an ambition. In this easy-goingAmerica, he hoped in some way to build himself into an aristocrat, andto shine as one of the lords of the land. To this end he hoarded hisshare of all the spoils, and, adding it to the sum brought from England, he began to find himself a rich man. 

"Meantime, Mr. Lamotte had speculated a little too freely; he had builta mansion, and built his factories. He had been living like a prince, and some of his late ventures had failed. Something must be done. Andthen his eye fell upon Burrill; he coveted the Englishman's hoardeddollars. 

"He found it easy to persuade Burrill to come to W----, ostensibly totake the position of overseer at the factories; really to be morereadily duped by Lucky Jim. Burrill came; he saw how his comrade wasrespected and bowed down to by all W----. He had always admired LuckyJim for his gentlemanly polish and his aristocratic manners; and he nowconcocted a scheme for his own aggrandisement. The Lamottes had madethemselves aristocrats, they should make an aristocrat of him. 

"You all know the result; John Burrill divorced his wife; Jasper Lamottesold his daughter. 

"While Frank Lamotte felt tolerably sanguine of winning the heiress ofWardour, the Wardour jewels were left unmolested. But when a rival cameinto the field, they determined to have the jewels, even if they lostthe heiress. 

"Accordingly they planned the robbery and the elopement, and you allknow the afterpart. 

"Miss Wardour, you once offered a reward for the arrest of the robberswho invaded Wardour Place, _not_ to recover your diamonds, but for thesake of justice. It is for the sake of justice and for the future safetyof peaceable citizens that I have run the Diamond Coterie to earth. For, be it known to you, ladies and gentlemen, that Miss Constance Wardour, like the wise young lady she is, took her jewels to an expert, one fineday, long ago, and had them all duplicated in paste; and while JasperLamotte and his clique were industriously carrying into safe hidingthese paste diamonds, the real Wardour jewels were reposing safely inthe vaults of a city bank, and they repose there safely still!

"When Jasper Lamotte went to the city, two days before the killing ofBurrill, he went to dispose of some of those paste jewels; and, notuntil then, did he learn how the heiress of Wardour had outwitted him. 

"Miss Wardour, the career of the Diamond Coterie is at an end. 

"Old Ezras has long been under our eye. Last night I sent a telegram, which will cause his instant arrest; and there are enough chargesagainst him to insure him a life sentence, had he yet seventy years tolive. 

"John Burrill has passed beyond our reach. The news of his murderfrustrated my nicely laid plans for his arrest, and turned my mind forsome time from the Diamond Coterie to the task of clearing Sir Clifford. 

"Frank Lamotte, too, with all his sin and selfishness, has passed beforea higher tribunal. 

"There remains only Jerry Belknap and Jasper Lamotte. 

"To Jerry Belknap, I have promised protection--not because he deservesthe same, but because in no other way could I avail myself of hisservices; and, to make my chain of evidence complete, I needed histestimony. He will go out to the frontier, and never appear again in NewYork. 

"And now, perhaps, you can comprehend why I brought that charge ofperjury against Jasper Lamotte. For his wife's sake, for his unhappydaughter's sake, for the sake of Evan Lamotte, who implored me, whilegoing to give himself up to save another, that I would not let furtherdisgrace bow his mother's head to the dust. For the sake of theseunfortunate victims, I would let Jasper Lamotte go free, so far as weare concerned. The charge of perjury is enough for W----. The officershave chosen not to place him in confinement, so, if Jasper Lamotte issuddenly missed from among us, who can be questioned or blamed?

"I have acted in this matter solely on my own responsibility. 

"I have seen Jasper Lamotte, and I gave him two alternatives to choosefrom. He could remain and be arrested as the head and front of theDiamond Coterie, or he could take passage on board the first ship boundfor Australia, to remain there the rest of his natural life. He chosethe latter, and I have appointed my agent, 'Smith, the book peddler, ' ashis guardian, to see that he carries out his contract to the letter. 

"And now there is one thing more:

"After Burrill's death, Jasper and Frank Lamotte made a search forcertain papers supposed to have been upon the person of the dead man;they never found them, for the reason that I, as Brooks, had relievedBurrill of the care of these same papers, weeks before, substituting forthem blanks, which no doubt, Burrill had hidden somewhere, in one of hisfits of drunken caution. 

"These papers define distinctly such portions of the Lamotte property asin reality belonged to Burrill; and if I am not mistaken in Mrs. Lamotteand her daughter, they will wish no share in it. I will put these papersinto your hands, Mr. O'Meara, to be held for future action. "

CHAPTER XLVII. 

AFTER THE DRAMA ENDED. 

"Clifford, " says the heiress of Wardour, standing beside her lover, onewinter day, not long after the extinction of the Diamond Coterie, "Clifford I have been to Mapleton to-day, for the first time since--"

She pauses abruptly, and her lover draws her closer to his side, withall his olden assurance shining in the eyes he bends down upon her. 

"Since the drama ended, " he finishes. "You have been to Mapleton, beloved! tell me about it. "

"There's something I wish to tell you, Clifford; something that in full, Mr. Bathurst generously kept out of his story when he told us the rest;something that is known as it is only to Mrs. Lamotte, Sybil, Evan, Mr. Belknap, Mr. Bathurst, and myself, but which I think I had better tellyou now. "

"I am listening Conny. "

"Well, you see when the robbers made off with my paste diamonds--thinkof its being the Lamottes, Clifford--when they robbed me of nothing, Ifelt quite relieved, for those diamonds _had_ been a burden. I made upmy mind to make the most of the business, and let everybody think me aloser, hoping thus to possess myself and my diamonds in peace andsafety. But your Mr. Bathurst--"

"My Mr. Bathurst!"

"Well, _my_ Mr. Bathurst, then; only you very well know that he has awife. When _my_ Mr. Bathurst had talked to me a second time--I believethat man can see straight through people--he had my secret at histongue's end; and he warned me to be very cautious and not to tell _anyone_ the truth concerning the diamonds. In spite of this, one evening, when some imp possessed me, I told Sybil Lamotte; I shall never forgether strange manner, nor her wild words. Clifford, that awful mistake ofmine almost made Sybil a murderess. "

"Constance!"

"Listen, dear! Sybil had brooded over what I had told her. Trouble wasunsettling her mind. She had some valuable jewels; she went with hermother to the city, and while there, had the real stones replaced bypaste, as I had done, and received two thousand dollars for herdiamonds. 

"In some way she had found out that Jerry Belknap was a man to bebought; she obtained an interview with him, and offered him two thousanddollars if he would _get John Burrill out of her way_!"

"Good heavens!"

"Don't interrupt me. Belknap agreed to remove Burrill, and received fivehundred dollars in advance. He sent to the city for a ruffian, one ofhis tools. The man came, but Mr. Bathurst had his eye upon him. On thenight of the murder, this ruffian was hidden outside of the saloon, waiting to follow and waylay John Burrill when he should go home. Theboy detective, George, was hidden and watching the ruffian. Do youfollow?"

"Yes! yes!"

"When Burrill came out of the saloon, the ruffian, supposing of coursethat he was going home, hurried on ahead, crossed the bridge, andsecreted himself in the hedge. The boy, George, was far enough behind tosee that Burrill was _not_ going home, but he was acting as directed byMr. Bathurst, and so followed the ruffian. Think of it, Clifford! WhileSybil's paid assassin lay in wait for his victim, Sybil's brother wassaving her soul from guilt, by taking a crime upon his own. But forEvan's knife, poor half crazed Sybil would have been a murderess, andthis I knew in part from the first, and that is why I said, that thetrue slayer must not be punished; until they brought Evan Lamotte intocourt, I believed that Sybil was the guilty one. "

"And you could not betray your unfortunate friend? My true heartedConstance!"

"I had promised Mrs. Lamotte not to betray her, but was nerving myselfto dare all and save you, when poor Evan threw himself into the breach, and saved us, all three. You must know, Clifford, that Mr. Belknap madea full confession to Mr. Bathurst, when he found he could do no better. And Mr. Bathurst, knowing that I was aware of Sybil's dealings withBelknap, told me everything. "

"And this is what Bathurst meant when he said that Sybil believedherself guilty. I thought he referred to some of her insane ravings. "

"So they all thought. But it is best as it is. There is no need to tellthis sad story, unless--"

"Unless what?"

"Unless it seems best that Ray Vandyck should know it. "

"Poor Ray. Conny, if the time ever comes when Ray and Sybil meet again, _she_ will tell him her own story. "

Constance bent over the glowing coals a moment, and then lifting herface, she said in a hushed voice:

"I saw Evan. "

"And he--"

"He is just fading out of life. Oh! it was so fortunate that there wasno resistance to the humane ones who sought to help him out of thatgloomy prison. Sybil never leaves him for a moment. Oh, what must herfeelings have been, when she learned that Evan had saved her from a lifetime of remorse. I could see by her face, oh, such a poor, pale, sad, utterly changed face! that she knew all; everything. She greeted me; sotimidly, yet, with so much of thankfulness. But, she had eyes and earsfor no one but Evan, although she is too weak to do more than sit besidehim and hold his hand. But, Mrs. Lamotte's courage is wonderful. Old Mr. Schuyler, Sybil's grandfather, is dead; and he has left Mrs. Lamotte hisproperty; but, so tied up that Mr. Lamotte could never touch a dollar. Mrs. Lamotte says that when it is over--Evan's life you know--she shalltake Sybil and go to live in her old Maryland home. They will not toucha penny of John Burrill's money; it is all to be transferred to hisfirst wife, to be held in trust for her little boy. The woman is goingback to England as soon as the transfer is made. Mrs. Lamotte said to meto-day:

"'After all these years, Constance, I am to have an old age of peace, Itrust. Mr. Lamotte and I have parted forever. My love for him died longsince, so this gives me no pain. My keenest sorrow is that I never gavemy poor Evan his full share of my mother love. He came with my sorrow, and bears the impress of my despair and madness. If we could only saveand keep him! But it is best as it is. Mind and body seem dyingtogether, and it is better so. When all is over, I shall take Sybilaway, where there will be nothing to recall her wretched past; and thereI shall trust her to Time, the Healer. '

"She never mentioned Frank's name, Clifford, " bending forward to look inhis face. "Do you know what I see in the future? I see poor Evan laidaway under the snows; I see the memory of John Burrill sunk in oblivion. I see Sybil Lamotte coming slowly back to life and hope and happiness, under the kind blue Maryland skies. I see Mrs. Lamotte, her pridesoftened and chastened, and a look of serene content upon her face. AndI see Ray Vandyck making his way southward some day, and standing beforeSybil with his heart in his eyes. I see--"

"You see enough. Leave Ray and Sybil face to face; you and I can guessthe rest. Do you see Doctor Clifford Heathercliffe resuming his practicein W----, as if nothing had happened? For that's what his newlyappointed tyrant has bidden him do. Do you see a certain fair lady, transformed into Lady Heathercliffe by and by, and sailing away over theseas to bewilder the dwellers of Heathercliffe Towers, with thebrightness of her eyes and, in spite of the Diamond Coterie, to blazeforth upon the 'nobility and gentry' of Hampshire, in all the splendorof the Wardour diamonds? All this shall come to pass, beloved; and, since it has gained me the fairest, bravest, truest wife in Christendom, I can even rejoice in the persecutions and the hatred of the DiamondCoterie. 

"If John Burrill had not mistaken me for Herbert, on the night when thefeud began, he might now be living, perhaps, and you and I be far apart;so, at the last, Herbert Heathercliffe, in his grave, has done me aservice. I do look like him, Conny, and it's small wonder Burrill knewme for a Heathercliffe, and made capital out of my altered name. But allthat is past. My darling, we have learned our hard lesson, now we haveonly to forgive the dead and the erring, to forget the shadows andsorrows of the past, and to say, 'God bless our friends in need; Godbless Bathurst, king of his kind; God bless the O'Mearas--God bless thebeautiful darling who outwitted the diamond Coterie, and who wears theWardour diamonds, and the Wardour honor with regal grace. '"

THE END.