THE MIDDLE OF THINGS

 BY J. S. FLETCHER

 1922

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I FACED WITH REALITY

 II NUMBER SEVEN IN THE SQUARE

 III WHO WAS ASHTON?

 IV THE RING AND THE KNIFE

 V LOOK FOR THAT MAN!

 VI SPECULATIONS

 VII WHAT WAS THE SECRET?

 VIII NEWS FROM ARCADIA

 IX LOOKING BACKWARD

 X THE PARISH REGISTER

 XI WHAT HAPPENED IN PARIS

 XII THE GREY MARE INN

 XIII THE JAPANESE CABINET

 XIV THE ELLINGHAM MOTTO

 XV THE PRESENT HOLDER

 XVI THE OUTHOUSE

 XVII THE CLAIMANT

 XVIII LET HIM APPEAR!

 XIX UNDER EXAMINATION

 XX SURPRISING READINESS

 XXI THE MARSEILLES MEETING

 XXII ON REMAND

 XXIII IS THIS MAN RIGHT?

 XXIV THE BROKEN LETTER

 XXV THROUGH THE TELEPHONE

 XXVI THE DISMAL STREET

 XXVII THE BACK WAY

 XXVIII THE TRUTH

 XXIX WHO IS TO TELL HER?

CHAPTER I

FACED WITH REALITY

On that particular November evening, Viner, a young gentleman of meansand leisure, who lived in a comfortable old house in Markendale Square, Bayswater, in company with his maiden aunt Miss Bethia Penkridge, hadspent his after-dinner hours in a fashion which had become a habit. MissPenkridge, a model housekeeper and an essentially worthy woman, whosewhole day was given to supervising somebody or something, had aninsatiable appetite for fiction, and loved nothing so much as that hernephew should read a novel to her after the two glasses of port which sheallowed herself every night had been thoughtfully consumed and he and shehad adjourned from the dining-room to the hearthrug in the library. Hertastes, however, in Viner's opinion were somewhat, if not decidedly, limited. Brought up in her youth on Miss Braddon, Wilkie Collins and Mrs. Henry Wood, Miss Penkridge had become a confirmed slave to thesensational. She had no taste for the psychological, and nothing butscorn for the erotic. What she loved was a story which began with crimeand ended with a detection--a story which kept you wondering who did it, how it was done, and when the doing was going to be laid bare to thelight of day. Nothing pleased her better than to go to bed with a braintitivated with the mysteries of the last three chapters; nothing gave hersuch infinite delight as to find, when the final pages were turned, thatall her own theories were wrong, and that the real criminal was somebodyquite other than the person she had fancied. For a novelist who was solittle master of his trade as to let you see when and how things weregoing, Miss Penkridge had little but good-natured pity; for one who ledyou by all sorts of devious tracks to a startling and surprisingsensation she cherished a whole-souled love; but for the creator of aplot who could keep his secret alive and burning to his last fewsentences she felt the deepest thing that she could give to any humanbeing--respect. Such a master was entered permanently on her mentallibrary list. 

At precisely ten o'clock that evening Viner read the last page of a novelwhich had proved to be exactly suited to his aunt's tastes. A deadsilence fell on the room, broken only by the crackling of the logs in thegrate. Miss Penkridge dropped her knitting on her silk-gowned knees andstared at the leaping flames; her nephew, with an odd glance at her, rosefrom his easy-chair, picked up a pipe and began to fill it from atobacco-jar on the mantelpiece. The clock had ticked several times beforeMiss Penkridge spoke. 

"Well!" she said, with the accompanying sigh which denotes completecontent. "So he did it! Now, I should never have thought it! The lastperson of the whole lot! Clever--very clever! Richard, you'll get all thebooks that that man has written!"

Viner lighted his pipe, thrust his hands in the pockets of his trousersand leaned back against the mantelpiece. 

"My dear aunt!" he said half-teasingly, half-seriously. "You're worsethan a drug-taker. Whatever makes a highly-respectable, shrewd old ladylike you cherish such an insensate fancy for this sort of stuff?"

"Stuff?" demanded Miss Penkridge, who had resumed her knitting. "Pooh!It's not stuff--it's life! Real life--in the form of fiction!"

Viner shook his head, pityingly. He never read fiction for his ownamusement; his tastes in reading lay elsewhere, in solid directions. Moreover, in those directions he was a good deal of a student, and heknew more of his own library than of the world outside it. So he shookhis head again. 

"Life!" he said. "You don't mean to say that you think those things"--hepointed a half-scornful finger to a pile of novels which had come in fromMudie's that day--"really represent life?"

"What else?" demanded Miss Penkridge. 

"Oh--I don't know, " replied Viner vaguely. "Fancy, I suppose, andimagination, and all that sort of thing--invention, you know, and so on. But--life! Do you really think such things happen in real life, as thosewe've been reading about?"

"I don't think anything about it, " retorted Miss Penkridge sturdily. "I'msure of it. I never had a novel yet, nor heard one read to me, that washalf as strong as it might have been!"

"Queer thing, one never hears or sees of these things, then!" exclaimedViner. "I never have!--and I've been on this planet thirty years. "

"That sort of thing hasn't come your way, Richard, " remarked MissPenkridge sententiously. "And you don't read the popular Sundaynewspapers. I do! They're full of crime of all sorts. So's the world. Andas to mysteries--well, I've known of two or three in my time that weremuch more extraordinary than any I've ever read of in novels. I shouldthink so!"

Viner dropped into his easy-chair and stretched his legs. 

"Such as--what?" he asked. 

"Well, " answered Miss Penkridge, regarding her knitting with appraisingeyes, "there was a case that excited great interest when your poor motherand I were mere girls. It was in our town--young Quainton, the banker. Hewas about your age, married to a very pretty girl, and they'd a finebaby. He was immensely rich, a strong healthy young fellow, fond of life, popular, without a care in the world, so far as any one knew. Onemorning, after breakfasting with his wife, he walked away from his house, on the outskirts of the town--only a very small town, mind you--to go tothe bank, as usual. He never reached the bank--in fact, he was never seenagain, never heard of again. He'd only half a mile to walk, along afairly frequented road, but--complete, absolute, final disappearance!And--never cleared up!"

"Odd!" agreed Viner. "Very odd, indeed. Well--any more?"

"Plenty!" said Miss Penkridge, with a click of her needles. "There wasthe case of poor young Lady Marshflower--as sweet a young thing as mancould wish to see! Your mother and I saw her married--she was aRavenstone, and only nineteen. She married Sir Thomas Marshflower, a manof forty. They'd only just come home from the honeymoon whenit--happened. One morning Sir Thomas rode into the market-town to presideat the petty sessions--he hadn't been long gone when a fine, distinguished-looking man called, and asked to see Lady Marshflower. Hewas shown into the morning-room--she went to him. Five minutes later ashot was heard. The servants rushed in--to find their young mistress shotthrough the heart, dead. But the murderer? Disappeared as completely aslast year's snow! That was never solved, never!"

"Do you mean to tell me the man was never caught?" exclaimed Viner. 

"I tell you that not only was the man never caught, but that although SirThomas spent a fortune and nearly lost his senses in trying to find outwho he was, what he wanted and what he had to do with Lady Marshflower, he never discovered one single fact!" affirmed Miss Penkridge. "There!"

"That's queerer than the other, " observed Viner. "A veritable mystery!"

"Veritable mysteries!" said Miss Penkridge, with a sniff. "The world'sfull of 'em! How many murders go undetected--how many burglaries arenever traced--how many forgeries are done and never found out? Piles of'em--as the police could tell you. And talking about forgeries, whatabout old Barrett, who was _the_ great man at Pumpney, when your motherand I were girls there? That was a fine case of crime going on for yearsand years and years, undetected--aye, and not even suspected!"

"What was it?" asked Viner, who had begun by being amused and was nowbecoming interested. "Who was Barrett?"

"If you'd known Pumpney when we lived there, " replied Miss Penkridge, "you wouldn't have had to ask twice who Mr. Samuel Barrett was. He waseverybody. He was everything--except honest. But nobody knew that--untilit was too late. He was a solicitor by profession, but that was a merenothing--in comparison. He was chief spirit in the place. I don't knowhow many times he wasn't mayor of Pumpney. He held all sorts of offices. He was a big man at the parish church--vicar's warden, and all that. Andhe was trustee for half the moneyed people in the town--everybody wantedSamuel Barrett, for trustee or executor; he was such a solid, respectable, square-toed man, the personification of integrity. Andhe died, suddenly, and then it was found that he'd led a double life, and had an establishment here in London, and was a gambler and aspeculator, and Heaven knows what, and all the money that had beenintrusted to him was nowhere, and he'd systematically forged, andcooked accounts, and embezzled corporation money--and he'd no doubthave gone on doing it for many a year longer if he hadn't had a strokeof apoplexy. And that wasn't in a novel!" concluded Miss Penkridgetriumphantly. "Novels--Improbability--pooh! Judged by what some peoplecan tell of life, the novel that's improbable hasn't yet been written!"

"Well!" remarked Viner after a pause, "I dare say you're right, AuntBethia. Only, you see, I haven't come across the things in life that youread about in novels. "

"You may yet, " replied Miss Penkridge. "But when anybody says to me of anovel that it's impossible and far-fetched and so on, I'm always inclinedto remind him of the old adage. For you can take it from me, Richard, that truth is stranger than fiction, and that life's full of queerthings. Only, as you say, we don't all come across the strange things. "

The silvery chime of the clock on the mantelpiece caused Miss Penkridge, at this point, to bring her work and her words to a summary conclusion. Hurrying her knitting into the hand-bag which she carried at her belt, she rose, kissed her nephew and departed bedward; while Viner, afterrefilling his pipe, proceeded to carry out another nightly proceedingwhich had become a habit. Every night, throughout the year, he alwayswent for a walk before going to bed. And now, getting into an overcoatand pulling a soft cap over his head, he let himself out of the house, and crossing the square, turned down a side-street and marched slowly inthe direction of the Bayswater Road. 

November though it was the night was fine and clear, and there was ahalf-moon in the heavens; also there was rather more than a suspicion offrost in the air, and the stars, accordingly, wore a more brilliantappearance. To one who loved night strolling, as Viner did, this wasindeed an ideal night for the time of year; and on this occasion, therefore, he went further than usual going along Bayswater Road as faras Notting Hill Gate, and thence returning through the various streetsand terraces which lay between Pembridge Gardens and Markendale Square. And while he strolled along, smoking his pipe, watching the twinklinglights of passing vehicles and enjoying the touch of frost, he wasthinking, in a half-cynical, half-amused way, of his Aunt Bethia's tastefor the sensational fiction and of her evidently sincere conviction thatthere were much stranger things in real life than could be found betweenthe covers of any novel. 

"Those were certainly two very odd instances which she gave me, " hemused, "those of the prosperous banker and the pretty bride. In thefirst, how on earth did the man contrive to get away unobserved from atown in which, presumably, every soul knew him? Why did he go? Did he go?Is his body lying at the bottom of some hole by some roadside? Was hemurdered in broad daylight on a public road? Did he lose his reason orhis memory, and wander away and away? I think, as my aunt sagelyremarked, that nobody is ever going to find anything about that affair!Then my Lady Marshflower--there's a fine mystery! Who was the man? Whatdid she know about him? Where had they met? Had they ever met? Why did heshoot her? How on earth did he contrive to disappear without leaving sometrace? How--"

At this point Viner's musings and questionings were suddenly and rudelyinterrupted. Unconsciously he had walked back close to his own Square, but on the opposite side to that by which he had left it, approaching itby one of the numerous long terraces which run out of the main road inthe Westbourne Grove district--when his musings were rudely interrupted. Between this terrace and Markendale Square was a narrow passage, littlefrequented save by residents, or by such folk familiar enough with theneighbourhood to know that it afforded a shortcut. Viner was about toturn into this passage, a dark affair set between high walls, when ayoung man darted hurriedly out of it, half collided with him, uttered ahasty word of apology, ran across the road and disappeared round thenearest corner. But just there stood a street-lamp, and in its glareViner caught sight of the hurrying young man's face. And when theretreating footsteps had grown faint, Viner still stood staring in thedirection in which they had gone. 

"That's strange!" he muttered. "I've seen that chap somewhere--I knowhim. Now, who is he? And what made him in such a deuce of a hurry?"

It was very quiet at that point. There seemed to be nobody about. Behindhim, far down the long, wide terrace, he heard slow, measuredsteps--that, of course, was a policeman on his beat. But beyond thesubdued murmur of the traffic in the Bayswater Road in one direction andin Bishop's Road, Viner heard nothing but those measured steps. And afterlistening to them for a minute, he turned into the passage out of whichthe young man had just rushed so unceremoniously. 

There was just one lamp in that passage--an old-fashioned affair, fixedagainst the wall, halfway down. It threw but little light on itssurroundings. Those surroundings were ordinary enough. The passage itselfwas about thirty yards in length. It was inclosed on each-side by oldbrick walls, so old that the brick had grown black with age and smoke. These walls were some fifteen feet in height; here and there they werepierced by doors--the doors of the yards at the rear of the big houses oneither side. The doors were set flush with the walls--Viner, who oftenwalked through that passage at night, and who had something of awhimsical fancy, had thought more than once that after nightfall thedoors looked as if they had never been opened, never shut. There was anair of queer, cloistral or prisonlike security in their very look. Theywere all shut now, as he paced down the passage, as lonely a place atthat hour as you could find in all London. It was queer, he reflected, that he scarcely ever remembered meeting anybody in that passage. 

And then he suddenly paused, pulling himself up with a strangeconsciousness that at last he was to meet something. Beneath the feeblelight of the one lamp Viner saw a man. Not a man walking, or standingstill, or leaning against the wall, but lying full length across theflagged pavement, motionless--so motionless that at the end of the firstmoment of surprise, Viner felt sure that he was in the presence of death. And then he stole nearer, listening, and looked down, and drawing hismatch-box from his pocket added the flash of a match to the poor raysfrom above. Then he saw white linen, and a bloodstain slowly spreadingover its glossy surface. 

CHAPTER II

NUMBER SEVEN IN THE SQUARE

Before the sputter of the match had died out, Viner had recognized theman who lay dead at his feet. He was a man about whom he had recentlyfelt some curiosity, a man who, a few weeks before, had come to live in ahouse close to his own, in company with an elderly lady and a prettygirl; Viner and Miss Penkridge had often seen all three in and aboutMarkendale Square, and had wondered who they were. The man looked as ifhe had seen things in life--a big, burly, bearded man of apparently sixtyyears of age, hard, bronzed; something about him suggested sun and windas they are met with in the far-off places. Usually he was seen in loose, comfortable, semi-nautical suits of blue serge; there was a roll in hiswalk that suggested the sea. But here, as he lay before Viner, he was inevening dress, with a light overcoat thrown over it; the overcoat wasunbuttoned and the shirt-front exposed. And on it that sickening crimsonstain widened and widened as Viner watched. 

Here, without doubt, was murder, and Viner's thoughts immediately turnedto two things--one the hurrying young man whose face he thought he hadremembered in some vague fashion; the other the fact that a policemanwas slowly pacing up the terrace close by. He turned and ran swiftly upthe still deserted passage. And there was the policeman, twenty yardsaway, coming along with the leisureliness of one who knows that he has acertain area to patrol. He pulled himself to an attitude of watchfulattention as Viner ran up to him; then suddenly recognizing Viner as awell-known inhabitant of the Square, touched the rim of his helmet. 

"I say!" said Viner in the hushed voice of one who imparts strange andconfidential tidings. "There's a man lying dead in the passage roundhere. And without doubt murdered! There's blood all over hisshirt-front. "

The policeman stood stock still for the fraction of a second. Then hepulled out his whistle and blew loudly and insistently. Before theshrill call had died away, he was striding towards the passage, withViner at his side. 

"Did you find him, Mr. Viner?" he asked. 

"I found him, " asserted Viner. "Just now--halfway down the passage!"

"Sure he's dead, sir?"

"Dead--yes! And murdered, too! And--"

He was about to mention the hurrying young man, but they had just thenarrived at the mouth of the passage, and the policeman once more drew outhis whistle and blew more insistently than before. 

"There's my sergeant and inspector not far off, " he remarked. "Some of'em'll be on the spot in a minute or two. Now then, sir. "

He marched down the passage to the dead man, glanced at the lamp, andturning on his own lantern, directed its light on the body. 

"God bless me!" he muttered. "Mr. Ashton!"

"You know him?" said Viner. 

"Gent that came to live at number seven in your square a while back, Mr. Viner, " answered the policeman. "Australian or New Zealander, Ifancy. He's gone right enough, sir! And--knifed! You didn't see anybodyabout, sir?"

"Yes, " replied Viner, "that's just it. As I turned into the passage, Imet a young fellow running out of it in a great hurry--he ran into me, and then, shot off across the road, Westbourne Grove way. Then I camealong and found--this!"

The policeman bent lower and suddenly put a knowing finger on certain ofthe dead man's pockets. 

"Robbed!" he said. "No watch there, anyway, and nothing where you'dexpect to find his purse. Robbery and murder--murder for the sake ofrobbery--that's what it is, Mr. Viner! Westbourne Grove way, you say thisfellow went? And five minutes' start!"

"Is it any good getting a doctor?" asked Viner. 

"A thousand doctors'll do him no good, " replied the policeman grimly. "But--there's Dr. Cortelyon somewhere about here--number seven in theterrace. One of these back doors is his. We might call him. "

He turned the light of his lantern on the line of doors in theright-hand wall, and finding the number he wanted, pulled the bell. Asits tinkle sounded somewhere up the yard behind, he thrust his whistleinto Viner's hand. 

"Mr. Viner, " he said, "go up to the end of the passage and blow on thatas loud as you can, three times. I'll stand by here till you come back. If you don't hear or see any of our people coming from either direction, blow again. "

Viner heard steps coming down the yard behind the door as he walked away. And he heard more steps, hurrying steps, as he reached the end of thepassage. He turned it to find an inspector and a sergeant approachingfrom one part of the terrace, a constable from another. 

"You're wanted down here, " said Viner as they all converged on him. "There's been murder! One of your men's there--he gave me this whistle tosummon further help. This way!"

The police followed him in silence down the passage. Another figure hadcome on the scene. Bending over the body and closely scrutinizing it inthe light of the policeman's lantern was a man whom Viner knew wellenough by sight--a tall, handsome man, whose olive-tinted complexion, large lustrous eyes and Vandyke beard gave him the appearance of aforeigner. Yet though he had often seen him, Viner did not know his name;the police-inspector, however, evidently knew it well enough. 

"What is it, Dr. Cortelyon?" he asked as he pushed himself to the front. "Is the man dead?"

Dr. Cortelyon drew himself up from his stooping position to his fullheight--a striking figure in his dress jacket and immaculate linen. Heglanced round at the expectant faces. 

"The man's been murdered!" he said in calm, professional accents. "He'sbeen stabbed clean through the heart. Dead? Yes, for several minutes. "

"Who found him here?" demanded the inspector. 

"I found him, " answered Viner. He gave a hurried account of the wholecircumstances as he knew them, the police watching him keenly. "I shouldknow the man again if I saw him, " he concluded. "I saw his face clearlyenough as he passed me. "

The inspector bent down and hastily felt the dead man's pockets. 

"Nothing at all here, " he said as he straightened himself. "No watch orchain or purse or anything. Looks like robbery as well as murder. Doesanybody know him?"

"I know who this gentlemen is, sir, " answered the policeman to whom Vinerhad first gone. "He's a Mr. Ashton, who came to live not so long since atnumber seven in Markendale Square, close by Mr. Viner there. I've heardthat he came from the Colonies. "

"Do you know him, " asked the inspector, turning to Viner. 

"Only by sight, " answered Viner. "I've seen him often, but I didn't knowhis name. I believe he has a wife and daughter--"

"No sir, " interrupted the policeman. "He was a single gentleman. Theyoung lady at number seven is his ward, and the older lady looked afterher--sort of a companion. "

The Inspector looked round. Other policemen, attracted by the whistle, were coming into the passage at each end, and he turned to his sergeant. 

"Put a man at the top and another at the bottom of this passage, " hesaid. "Keep everybody out. Send for the divisional surgeon. Dr. Cortelyon, will you see him when he comes along? I want him to see thebody before its removal. Now, then, about these ladies--they'll have tobe told. " He turned to Viner. "I understand you live close by them?" heasked. "Perhaps you'll go there with me?"

Viner nodded; and the inspector, after giving a few more words ofinstruction to the sergeant, motioned him to follow; together they wentdown the passage into Markendale Square. 

"Been resident here long, Mr. Viner?" asked the Inspector as theyemerged. "I noticed that some of my men knew you. I've only recently comeinto this part myself. "

"Fifteen years, " answered Viner. 

"Do you know anything of this dead man?"

"Nothing--not so much as your constable knows. "

"Policemen pick things up. These ladies, now? It's a most unpleasantthing to have to go and break news like this. You know nothing aboutthem, sir?"

"Not even as much as your man knew. I've seen them often--with him, thedead man. There's an elderly lady and a younger one, a mere girl. I tookthem for his wife and daughter. But you heard what your man said. "

"Well, whatever they are, they've got to be told. I'd be obliged if you'dcome with me. And then--that fellow you saw running away! You'll have togive us as near a description of him as you can. What number did my mansay it was--seven?"

Viner suddenly laid a hand on his companion's sleeve. A smart car, ofthe sort let out on hire from the more pretentious automobileestablishments, had just come round the corner and was being pulled up atthe door of a house in whose porticoed front hung a brilliant lamp. 

"That's number seven, " said Viner. "And--those are the two ladies. "

The Inspector stopped and watched. The door of the house opened, lettinga further flood of light on the broad step beneath the portico and onthe pavement beyond; the door of the car opened too, and a girl steppedout, and for a second or two stood in the full glare of the lamps. Shewas a slender, lissome young creature, gowned in white, and muffled tothe throat in an opera cloak out of which a fresh, girlish face, brightin colour, sparkling of eye, crowned by a mass of hair of the tint ofdead gold, showed clearly ere she rapidly crossed to the open door. After her came an elderly, well-preserved woman in an elaborate eveningtoilette, the personification of the precise and conventional chaperon. The door closed; the car drove away; the Inspector turned to Viner witha shake of his head. 

"Just home from the theatre!" he said. "And--to hear this! Well, it's gotto be done, Mr. Viner, anyhow. "

Viner, who had often observed the girl whom they had just seen with aninterest for which he had never troubled to account, found himselfwishing that Miss Penkridge was there in his place. He did not know whatpart he was to play, what he was to do or say; worse than that, he didnot know if the girl in whose presence he would certainly find himselfwithin a minute or two was very fond of the man whom he had just founddone to death. In that case--but here his musings were cut short by thefact that the Inspector had touched the bell in the portico of numberseven, and that the door had opened, to reveal a smart and wonderingparlour-maid, who glanced with surprise at the inspector's uniform. 

"Hush! This is Mr. Ashton's?" said the Inspector. "Yes--well, now, whatis the name of the lady--the elderly lady--I saw come in just now? Keepquiet, there's a good girl, --the fact is, Mr. Ashton's had an accident, and I want to see that lady. "

"Mrs. Killenhall, " answered the parlour-maid. 

"And the young lady--her name?" asked the Inspector. 

"Miss Wickham. "

The Inspector walked inside the house. 

"Just ask Mrs. Killenhall and Miss Wickham if they'll be good enough tosee Inspector Drillford for a few minutes, " he said. Then, as the girlclosed the door and turned away up the inner hall, he whispered to Viner. "Better see both and be done with it. It's no use keeping bad news toolong; they may as well know--both. "

The parlour-maid reappeared at the door of a room along the hall; and thetwo men, advancing in answer to her summons, entered what was evidentlythe dining-room of the house. The two ladies had thrown off their wraps;the younger one sat near a big, cheery fire, holding her slender fingersto the blaze; the elder stood facing the door in evident expectancy. Theroom itself was luxuriously furnished in a somewhat old-fashioned, heavystyle; everything about it betokened wealth and comfort. And that itsowner was expected home every minute was made evident to the two men bythe fact that a spirit-case was set on the centre table, with glasses andmineral waters and cigars; Viner remembered, as his eyes encounteredthese things, that a half-burned cigar lay close to the dead man's handin that dark passage so close by. 

"Mrs. Killenhall? Miss Wickham?" began Drillford, looking sharply fromone to the other. "Sorry to break in on you like this, ladies, but thefact is, there has been an accident to Mr. Ashton, and I'm obliged tocome and tell you about it. "

Viner, who had remained a little in the background, was watching thefaces of the two to whom this initial breaking of news was made. And hesaw at once that there was going to be no scene. The girl by the firelooked for an instant at the inspector with an expression of surprise, but it was not the surprise of great personal concern. As for the elderwoman, after one quick glance from Drillford to Viner, whom she evidentlyrecognized, she showed absolute self-possession. 

"A bad accident?" she asked. 

Drillford again looked from the elder to the younger lady. 

"You'll excuse me if I ask what relation you ladies are to Mr. Ashton?"he said with a significant glance at Mrs. Killenhall. 

"None!" replied Mrs. Killenhall. "Miss Wickham is Mr. Ashton's ward. I amMiss Wickham's chaperon--and companion. "

"Well, ma'am, " said Drillford, "then I may tell you that my newsis--just about as serious as it possibly could be, you understand. "

In the silence that followed, the girl turned toward the visitors, andViner saw her colour change a little. And it was she who first spoke. 

"Don't be afraid to tell us, " she said. "Is Mr. Ashton dead?"

Drillford inclined his head, and spoke as he was bidden. 

"I'm sorry to say he is, " he replied. "And still more to be obliged totell you that he came to his death by violence. The truth is--"

He paused, looking from one to the other, as if to gauge the effect ofhis words. And again it was the girl who spoke. 

"What is the truth?" she asked. 

"Murder!" said Drillford. "Just that!"

Mrs. Killenhall, who had remained standing until then, suddenly satdown, with a murmur of horror. But the girl was watching theinspector steadily. 

"When was this? and how, and where?" she inquired. 

"A little time ago, near here, " answered Drillford. "This gentleman, Mr. Viner, a neighbour of yours, found him--dead. There's no doubt, from whatwe can see, that he was murdered for the sake of robbery. And I want someinformation about him, about his habits and--"

Miss Wickham got up from her chair and looked meaningly at Mrs. Killenhall. 

"The fact is, " she said, turning to Drillford; "strange as it may seem, neither Mrs. Killenhall nor myself know very much about Mr. Ashton. "

CHAPTER III

WHO WAS MR. ASHTON?

For the first time since they had entered the room, Drillford turned andglanced at Viner; his look indicated the idea which Miss Wickham's lastwords had set up in his mind. Here was a mystery! The police instinct wasaroused by it. 

"You don't know very much about Mr. Ashton?" he said, turning back to thetwo ladies. "Yet--you're under his roof? This is his house, isn't it?"

"Just so, " assented Miss Wickham. "But when I say we don't know much, Imean what I say. Mrs. Killenhall has only known Mr. Ashton a few weeks, and until two months ago I had not seen Mr. Ashton for twelve years. Therefore, neither of us can know much about him. "

"Would you mind telling me what you do know?" asked Drillford. "We've gotto know something--who he is, and so on. "

"All that I know is this, " replied Miss Wickham. "My father died inAustralia, when I was about six years old. My mother was already dead, and my father left me in charge of Mr. Ashton. He sent me, very soonafter my father's death, to school in England, and there I remained fortwelve years. About two months ago Mr. Ashton came to England, took thishouse, fetched me from school and got Mrs. Killenhall to look after me. Here we've all been ever since--and beyond that I know scarcelyanything. "

Drillford looked at the elder lady. 

"I know, practically, no more than Miss Wickham has told you, " said Mrs. Killenhall. "Mr. Ashton and I got in touch with each other through hisadvertisement in the _Morning Post_. We exchanged references, and Icame here. "

"Ah!" said Drillford. "And--what might his references be, now?"

"To his bankers, the London and Orient, in Threadneedle Street, " answeredMrs. Killenhall promptly. "And to his solicitors, Crawle, Pawle andRattenbury, of Bedford Bow. "

"Very satisfactory they were, no doubt, ma'am?" suggested Drillford. 

Mrs. Killenhall let her eye run round the appointments of the room. 

"Eminently so, " she said dryly. "Mr. Ashton was a very wealthy man. "

Drillford pulled out a pocketbook and entered the names which Mrs. Killenhall had just mentioned. 

"The solicitors will be able to tell something, " he murmured as he putthe book back. "We'll communicate with them first thing in themorning. But just two questions before I go. Can you tell me anythingabout Mr. Ashton's usual habits? Had he any business? What did he dowith his time?"

"He was out a great deal, " said Mrs. Killenhall. "He used to go down tothe City. He was often out of an evening. Once, since I came here, hewas away for a week in the country--he didn't say where. He was an activeman--always in and out. But he never said much as to where he went. "

"The other question, " said Drillford, "is this: Did he carry much on himin the way of valuables or money? I mean--as a rule?"

"He wore a very fine gold watch and chain, " answered Mrs. Killenhall;"and as for money--well, he always seemed to have a lot in his purse. Andhe wore two diamond rings--very fine stones. "

"Just so!" murmured Drillford. "Set upon for the sake of those things, nodoubt. Well, ladies, I shall telephone to Crawle's first thing in themorning, and they'll send somebody along at once, of course. I'm sorryto have brought you such bad news, but--"

He turned toward the door; Miss Wickham stopped him. 

"Will Mr. Ashton's body be brought here--tonight?" she asked. 

"No, " replied Drillford. "It will be taken to the mortuary. If you'llleave everything to me, I'll see that you are spared as much as possible. Of course, there'll have to be an inquest--but you'll hear all about thattomorrow. Leave things to us and to Mr. Ashton's solicitors. "

He moved towards the door, and Viner, until then a silent spectator, looked at Miss Wickham, something impelling him to address her instead ofMrs. Killenhall. 

"I live close by you, " he said. "If there is anything that I can do, orthat my aunt Miss Penkridge, who lives with me, can do? Perhaps you willlet me call in the morning. "

The girl looked at him steadily and frankly. 

"Thank you, Mr. Viner, " she said. "It would be very kind if you would. We've no men folk--yes, please do. "

"After breakfast, then, " answered Viner, and went away to join theInspector, who had walked into the hall. 

"What do you think of this matter?" he asked, when they had got outsidethe house. 

"Oh, a very clear and ordinary case enough, Mr. Viner, " repliedDrillford. "No mystery about it at all. Here's this Mr. Ashton beenliving here some weeks--some fellow, the man, of course, whom you sawrunning away, has noticed that he was a very rich man and wore expensivejewellery, has watched him, probably knew that he used that passage as ashort cut, and has laid in wait for him and murdered him for what he'dgot on him. It wouldn't take two minutes to do the whole thing. Rings, now! They spoke of diamond rings, in there. Well, I didn't see anydiamond rings on his hands when I looked at his body, and I particularlynoticed his hands, to see if there were signs of any struggle. Nosir--it's just a plain case of what used to be called highway robberyand murder. But come round with me to the police-station, Mr. Viner--they'll have taken him to the mortuary by now, and I should liketo hear what our divisional surgeon has to say, and what our peopleactually found on the body. "

As Viner and the Inspector walked into the police-station, Dr. Cortelyoncame out. Drillford stopped him. 

"Found out anything more, Doctor?" he asked. 

"Nothing beyond what I said at first, " replied Cortelyon. "The man hasbeen stabbed through the heart, from behind, in one particularlywell-delivered blow. I should say the murderer had waited for him in thatpassage, probably knowing his habits. That passage, now--you know itreally will have to be seen to! That wretched old lamp in the middlegives no light at all. The wonder is that something of this sort hasn'toccurred before. "

Drillford muttered something about local authorities and property-ownersand went forward into an office, motioning Viner to follow. Thedivisional surgeon was there in conversation with the sergeant whomDrillford had left in charge of the body. "That is something on which I'dstake my professional reputation, " he said. "I'm sure of it. "

"What's that, Doctor?" asked Drillford. "Something to do with thisaffair?"

"I was saying that whoever stabbed this unfortunate man had someknowledge of anatomy, " remarked the doctor. "He was killed by one swiftblow from a particularly keen-edged, thin-bladed weapon which was driventhrough his back at the exact spot. You ought to make a minute searchbehind the walls on either side of that passage--the probability is thatthe murderer threw his weapon away. "

"We'll do all that, Doctor, " said Drillford. "As to yoursuggestion--don't you forget that there are a good many criminals here inLondon who are regular experts in the use of the knife--I've seen plentyof instances of that myself. Now, " he went on, turning to the sergeant, "about that search? What did you find on him?"

The sergeant lifted the lid of a desk and pointed to a sheet of foolscappaper whereon lay certain small articles at which Viner gazed with asense of strange fascination. A penknife, a small gold matchbox, agold-mounted pencil-case, some silver coins, a handkerchief, andconspicuous among the rest, a farthing. 

"That's the lot, " said the sergeant, "except another handkerchief, and apair of gloves in the overcoat, where I've left them. Nothing else--nowatch, chain, purse or pocketbook. And no rings--but it's very plainfrom his fingers that he wore two rings one on each hand, third fingerin each case. "

"There you are!" said Drillford with a glance at Viner. "Murdered androbbed--clear case! Now, Mr. Viner, give us as accurate a description aspossible of the fellow who ran out of that passage. "

Viner did his best. His recollections were of a young man of about hisown age, about his own height and build, somewhat above the medium; itwas his impression, he said, that the man was dressed, if not shabbily, at least poorly; he had an impression, too, that the clean-shaven facewhich he had seen for a brief moment was thin and worn. 

"Got any recollection of his exact look?" inquired the Inspector. "That'sa lot to go by. "

"I'm trying to think, " said Viner. "Yes--I should say he looked to bepretty hard-up. There was a sort of desperate gleam in his eye. And--"

"Take your time, " remarked Drillford. "Anything you can suggest, you know--"

"Well, " replied Viner. "I'd an idea at the moment, and I've had it since, that I'd seen this man before. Something in his face was familiar. Theonly thing I can think of is this: I potter round old bookshops andcuriosity-shops a good deal--I may have seen this young fellow on someoccasion of that sort. "

"Anyway, " suggested Drillford, glancing over the particulars which he hadwritten down, "you'd know him again if you saw him?"

"Oh, certainly!" asserted Viner. "I should know him anywhere. "

"Then that's all we need trouble you with now, sir, " said Drillford. "Thenext business will be--tomorrow. "

Viner walked slowly out of the police-station and still more slowlyhomeward. When he reached the first lamp, he drew out his watch. Half-past twelve! Just two hours ago he had been in his own comfortablelibrary, smiling at Miss Penkridge's ideas about the very matters intoone of which he was now plunged. He would not have been surprised if hehad suddenly awoke, to find that all this was a bad dream, induced by theevening's conversation. But just then he came to the passage in which themurder had been committed. A policeman was on guard at the terraceend--and Viner, rather than hear any more of the matter, hastened pasthim and made a circuitous way to Markendale Square. 

He let himself into his house as quietly as possible, and contraryto taste and custom, went into the dining-room, switched on theelectric light and helped himself to a stiff glass of brandy and sodaat the sideboard. When the mixture was duly prepared, he forgot todrink it. He stood by the sideboard, the glass in his hand, his eyesstaring at vacancy. Nor did he move when a very light foot stole downthe stairs, and Miss Penkridge, in wraps and curl-papers, lookedround the side of the door. 

"Heavens above, Richard!" she exclaimed, "What is the matter! I wonderedif you were burglars! Half-past twelve!"

Viner suddenly became aware of the glass which he was unconsciouslyholding. He lifted it to his lips, wondering whatever it was that madehis mouth feel so dry. And when he had taken a big gulp, and thenspoke, his voice--to himself--sounded just as queer as his tongue hadbeen feeling. 

"You were right!" he said suddenly. "There are queerer, stranger affairsin life than one fancies! And I--I've been pitchforked--thrown--cleaninto the middle of things! I!"

Miss Penkridge came closer to him, staring. She looked from him to theglass, from the glass to him. 

"No--I haven't been drinking, " said Viner with a harsh laugh. "I'mdrinking now, and I'm going to have another, too. Listen!"

He pushed her gently into a chair, and seating himself on the edge of thetable, told her the adventure. And Miss Penkridge, who was an admirablelistener to fictitious tales of horror, proved herself no less admirablein listening to one of plain fact, and made no comment until her nephewhad finished. 

"That poor man!" she said at last. "Such a fine, strong, healthy-lookingman, too! I used to wonder about him, when I saw him in the square, Iused to think of him as somebody who'd seen things!"

Viner made a sudden grimace. 

"Don't!" he said. "Ugh! I've seen things tonight that I never wished tosee! And I wish--"

"What?" demanded Miss Penkridge after a pause, during which Viner had satstaring at the floor. 

"I wish to God I'd never seen that poor devil who was running away!"exclaimed Viner with sudden passion. "They'll catch him, and I shall haveto give evidence against him, and my evidence'll hang him, and--"

"There's a lot to do, and a lot'll happen before that comes off, Richard, " interrupted Miss Penkridge. "The man may be innocent. "

"He'd have a nice job to prove it!" said Viner with a forced laugh. "No, if the police get him--besides, he was running straight from the place!Isn't it a queer thing?" he went on, laughing again. "I don't mindremembering the--the dead man, but I hate the recollection of that chaphurrying away! I wonder what it feels like when you've just murderedanother fellow, to slink off like--"

"You've no business to be wondering any such thing!" said Miss Penkridgesharply. "Here--get yourself another brandy and soda, and let us talkbusiness. These two women--did they feel it much?"

"They puzzled me, " replied Viner. He took his aunt's advice about theextra glass, and obeyed her, too, when she silently pointed to a box ofcigars which lay on the sideboard. "All right, " he said after a minuteor two. "I'm not going to have nerves. What was I saying? They puzzledme? Yes, puzzled. Especially the girl; she seemed so collected abouteverything. And yet, according to her own story, she's only just out ofthe schoolroom. You'll go round there with me?"

"If we can be of any service to them? certainly, " assented MissPenkridge. 

"The girl said they'd no men folk, " remarked Viner. 

"In that case I shall certainly go, " said Miss Penkridge. "Now, Richard, smoke your cigar, and think no more about all this till tomorrow. "

Viner flung himself into an easy-chair. 

"All right!" he said. "Don't bother! It's been a bit of a facer, but--"

He was astonished when he woke the next morning, much later than was hiswont, to find that he had not dreamed about the events of the midnight. And he was his usual practical and cool-headed self when, at eleveno'clock, he stood waiting in the hall for Miss Penkridge to go round withhim to number seven. But the visit was not to be paid just then--as theywere about to leave the house, a police-officer came hurrying up andaccosted Viner. Inspector Drillford's compliments, and would Mr. Vinercome round? And then the messenger gave a knowing grin. 

"We've got the man, sir!" he whispered. "That's why you're wanted. "

CHAPTER IV

THE RING AND THE KNIFE

Viner was hoping that the police had got hold of the wrong man as hereluctantly walked into Drillford's office, but one glance at theinspector's confident face, alert and smiling, showed him that Drillfordhimself had no doubts on that point. 

"Well, Mr. Viner, " he said with a triumphant laugh, "we haven't been solong about it, you see! Much quicker work than I'd anticipated, too. "

"Are you sure you've got the right man?" asked Viner. "I mean--have yougot the man I saw running away from the passage?"

"You shall settle that yourself, " answered Drillford. "Come this way. "

He led Viner down a corridor, through one or two locked doors, andmotioning him to tread softly, drew back a sliding panel in the door of acell and silently pointed. Viner, with a worse sickness than before, stole up and looked through the barred opening. One glance at the mansitting inside the cell, white-faced, staring at the drab, bare wall, wasenough; he turned to Drillford and nodded. Drillford nodded too, and ledhim back to the office. 

"That's the man I saw, " said Viner. 

"Of course!" assented Drillford. "I'd no doubt of it. Well, it's beena far simpler thing than I'd dared to hope. I'll tell you how we gothim. This morning, about ten o'clock, this chap, who won't give hisname, went into the pawnbroker's shop in Edgware Road, and asked for aloan on a diamond ring which he produced. Now, Pelver, who happened toattend to him himself, is a good deal of an expert in diamonds--he's ajeweller as well as a pawnbroker, and he saw at once that the diamondin this ring was well worth all of a thousand pounds--a gem of thefirst water! He was therefore considerably astonished when his customerasked for a loan of ten pounds on it--still more so when the fellowsuggested that Pelver should buy it outright for twenty-five. Pelverasked him some questions as to his property in the ring--he made someexcuses about its having been in his family for some time, and that hewould be glad to realize on it. Under pretence of examining it, Pelvertook the ring to another part of his shop and quietly sent for apoliceman. And the end was, this officer brought the man here, andPelver with him, and the ring. Here it is!"

He opened a safe and produced a diamond ring at which Viner stared withfeelings for which he could scarcely account. 

"How do you know that's one of Mr. Ashton's rings?" he asked. 

"Oh, I soon solved that!" laughed Drillford. "I hurried round toMarkendale Square with it at once. Both the ladies recognized it--Mr. Ashton had often shown it to them, and told them its value, and there's aprivate mark of his inside it. And so we arrested him, and there he is!Clear case!"

"What did he say?" asked Viner. 

"He's a curious customer, " replied Drillford. "I should say that whateverhe is now, he has been a gentleman. He was extremely nervous and so onwhile we were questioning him about the ring, but when it came to thecrucial point, and I charged him and warned him, he turned strangelycool. I'll tell you what he said, in his exact words. 'I'm absolutelyinnocent of that!' he said. 'But I can see that I've placed myself in avery strange position. ' And after that he would say no more--he hasn'teven asked to see a solicitor. "

"What will be done next?" asked Viner. 

"He'll be brought before the magistrate in an hour or two, " saidDrillford. "Formal proceedings--for a remand, you know. I shall want youthere, Mr. Viner; it won't take long. I wish the fellow would tell uswho he is. "

"And I wish I could remember where and when I have seen him before!"exclaimed Viner. 

"Ah, that's still your impression?" remarked Drillford. "You're stillconvinced of it?"

"More than ever--since seeing him just now, " affirmed Viner. "I know hisface, but that's all I can say. I suppose, " he continued, lookingdiffidently at the inspector, as if he half-expected to be laughed at forthe suggestion he was about to make, "I suppose you don't believe thatthis unfortunate fellow may have some explanation of his possession ofMr. Ashton's ring?"

Drillford, who had been replacing the ring in a safe, locked thedoor upon it with a snap, and turned on his questioner with a lookwhich became more and more businesslike and official with eachsucceeding word. 

"Now, Mr. Viner, " he said, "you look at it from our point of view. Anelderly gentleman is murdered and robbed. A certain man is seen--by you, as it happens--running away as fast as he can from the scene of themurder. Next morning that very man is found trying to get rid of a ringwhich, without doubt, was taken from the murdered man's finger. What doyou think? Or--another question--what could we, police officials, do?"

"Nothing but what you're doing, I suppose, " said Viner. "Still--there maybe a good deal that's--what shall I say?--behind all this. "

"It's for him to speak, " observed Drillford, nodding in the direction ofthe cells. "He's got a bell within reach of his fingers; he's only got toring it and to ask for me or any solicitor he likes to name. But--weshall see!"

Nothing had been seen or heard, in the way hinted at by Drillford, when, an hour later, Viner, waiting in the neighbouring police-court, was awarethat the humdrum, sordid routine was about to be interrupted by somethingunusual. The news of an arrest in connection with the Lonsdale Passagemurder had somehow leaked out, and the court was packed to the doors--Viner himself had gradually been forced into a corner near thewitness-box in which he was to make an unwilling appearance. And fromthat corner he looked with renewed interest at the man who was presentlyplaced in the dock, and for the hundredth time asked himself what it wasin his face that woke some chord of memory in him. 

There was nothing of the criminal in the accused man's appearance. Apparently about thirty years of age, spare of figure, clean-shaven, of adecidedly intellectual type of countenance, he looked like an actor. Hismuch-worn suit of tweed was well cut and had evidently been carefullykept, in spite of its undoubtedly threadbare condition. It, and the wornand haggard look of the man's face, denoted poverty, if not recent actualprivation, and the thought was present in more than one mind there inpossession of certain facts: if this man had really owned the ring whichhe had offered to the pawnbroker, why had he delayed so long in placinghimself in funds through its means? For if his face expressed anything, it was hunger. 

Viner, who was now witnessing police-court proceedings for the first timein his life, felt an almost morbid curiosity in hearing the tale unfoldedagainst the prisoner. For some reason, best known to themselves, thepolice brought forward more evidence than was usual on first proceedingsbefore a magistrate. Viner himself proved the finding of the body; thedivisional surgeon spoke as to the cause of death; the dead man'ssolicitor testified to his identity and swore positively as to the ring;the pawnbroker gave evidence as to the prisoner's attempt to pawn or sellthe ring that morning. Finally, the police proved that on searching theprisoner after his arrest, a knife was found in his hip-pocket which, inthe opinion of the divisional surgeon, would have caused the wound foundin the dead man's body. From a superficial aspect, no case could haveseemed clearer. 

But in Viner's reckoning of things there was mystery. Two episodesoccurred during the comparatively brief proceedings which made himcertain that all was not being brought out. The first was when he himselfwent into the witness-box to prove his discovery of the body and to swearthat the prisoner was the man he had seen running away from the passage. The accused glanced at him with evident curiosity as he came forward; onhearing Viner's name, he looked at him in a strange manner, changedcolour and turned his head away. But when a certain question was put toViner, he looked round again, evidently anxious to hear the answer. 

"I believe you thought, on first seeing him, that the prisoner's face wasfamiliar to you, Mr. Viner?"

"Yes--I certainly think that I have seen him before, somewhere. "

"You can't recollect more? You don't know when or where you saw him?"

"I don't. But that I have seen him, perhaps met him, somewhere, Iam certain. "

This induced the magistrate to urge the accused man--who had steadfastlyrefused to give name or address--to reveal his identity. But the prisoneronly shook his head. 

"I would rather not give my name at present, " he answered. "I amabsolutely innocent of this charge of murder, but I quite realize thatthe police are fully justified in bringing it against me. I had nothingwhatever to do with Mr. Ashton's death--nothing! Perhaps the police willfind out the truth; and meanwhile I had rather not give my name. "

"You will be well advised to reconsider that, " said the magistrate. "Ifyou are innocent, as you say, it will be far better for you to say whoyou are, and to see a solicitor. As things are, you are in a verydangerous position. "

But the prisoner shook his head. 

"Not yet, at any rate, " he answered. "I want to hear more. "

When the proceedings were over and the accused, formally remanded for aweek, had been removed to the cells previous to being taken away, Vinerwent round to Drillford's office. 

"Look here!" he said abruptly, finding the Inspector alone, "I dare sayyou think I'm very foolish, but I don't believe that chap murderedAshton. I don't believe it for one second!"

Drillford who was filling up some papers, smiled. 

"No?" he said. "Now, why, Mr. Viner?"

"You can call it intuition if you like, " answered Viner. "But I don't!And I shall be surprised if I'm not right. There are certain things thatI should think would strike you. "

"What, for instance?" asked Drillford. 

"Do you think it likely that a man who must have known that a regular hueand cry would be raised about that murder, would be such a fool as to goand offer one of the murdered man's rings within a mile of the spot wherethe murder took place?" asked Viner. 

Drillford turned and looked steadily at his questioner. 

"Well, but that's precisely what he did, Mr. Viner!" he exclaimed. "There's no doubt whatever that the ring in question was Ashton's;there's also no doubt that this man did offer it to Pelver this morning. Either the fellow is a fool or singularly ignorant, to do such a madthing! But--he did it! And I know why. "

"Why, then?" demanded Viner. 

"Because he was just starving, " answered Drillford. "When he was broughtin here, straight from Pelver's, he hadn't a halfpenny on him, and in thevery thick of my questionings--and just think how important theywere!--he stopped me. 'May I say a word that's just now much moreimportant to me than all this?' he said. 'I'm starving! I haven't touchedfood or drink for nearly three days. Give me something, if it's only acrust of bread!' That's fact, Mr. Viner. "

"What did you do?" inquired Viner. 

"Got the poor chap some breakfast, at once, " answered Drillford, "and lethim alone till he'd finished. Have you ever seen a starved dog eat?No--well, I have, and he ate like that--he was ravenous! And when a man'sat that stage, do you think he's going to stop at anything? Not he! Thisfellow, you may be sure, after killing and robbing Ashton, had but onethought--how soon he could convert some of the property into cash, sothat he could eat. If Pelver had made him that advance, or bought thering, he'd have made a bee-line for the nearest coffee-shop. I tell youhe was mad for food!"

"Another thing, " said Viner. "Where is the rest of Mr. Ashton'sproperty--his watch, chain, the other ring, his purse, and--wasn't therea pocketbook? How is it this man wasn't found in possession of them?"

"Easy enough for him to hide all those things, Mr. Viner, " saidDrillford, with an indulgent smile. "What easier? You don't know as muchof these things as I do--he could quite easily plant all those articlessafely during the night. He just stuck to the article which he could mosteasily convert into money. "

"Well, I don't believe he's guilty, " repeated Viner. "And I want to dosomething for him. You may think me quixotic, but I'd like to help him. Is there anything to prevent you from going to him, telling him thatI'm convinced of his innocence and that I should like to get himhelp--legal help?"

"There's nothing to prevent it, to be sure, " answered Drillford. "But Mr. Viner, you can't get over the fact that this fellow had Ashton's diamondring in his possession!"

"How do I--how do you--know how he came into possession of it?"demanded Viner. 

"And then--that knife!" exclaimed Drillford. "Look here! I've got it. What sort of thing is that for an innocent, harmless man to carry abouthim? It's an American bowie-knife!"

He opened a drawer and exhibited a weapon which, lying on a pile ofpaper, looked singularly suggestive and fearsome. 

"I don't care!" said Viner with a certain amount of stubbornness. "I'mconvinced that the man didn't kill Ashton. And I want to help him. I'm aman of considerable means; and in this case--well, that's how I feelabout it. "

Drillford made no answer. But presently he left the room, after pointingViner to a chair. Viner waited--five, ten minutes. Then the door openedagain, and Drillford came back. Behind him walked the accused man, witha couple of policemen in attendance upon him. 

"There, Mr. Viner!" said Drillford. "You can speak to him yourself!"

Viner rose from his chair. The prisoner stepped forward, regarding himearnestly. 

"Viner!" he said, in a low, concentrated tone, "don't you know me?I'm Langton Hyde! You and I were at Rugby together. And--we meetagain, here!"

CHAPTER V

LOOK FOR THAT MAN!

At these words Viner drew back with an exclamation of astonishment, butin the next instant he stepped forward again, holding out his hand. 

"Hyde!" he said. "Then--that's what I remembered! Of course I know you!But good heavens, man, what does all this mean? What's brought you tothis--to be here, in this place?"

The prisoner looked round at his captors, and back at Viner, and smiledas a man smiles who is beginning to realize hopelessness to the full. 

"I don't know if I'm allowed to speak, " he said. 

Drillford, who had been watching this episode with keen attention, motioned to the two policemen. 

"Wait outside, " he said abruptly. "Now, then, " he continued when he, Viner and Hyde were alone, "this man can say anything he likes to you, Mr. Viner, so long as you've asked to see him. This is all irregular, butI've no wish to stop him from telling you whatever he pleases. Butremember, " he went on, glancing at the prisoner, "you're saying it beforeme--and in my opinion, you'd a deal better have said something when youwere in court just now. "

"I didn't know what to say, " replied Hyde doubtfully. "I'm pretty muchon the rocks, as you can guess; but--I have relatives! And if it'spossible, I don't want them to know about this. "

Drillford looked at Viner and shook his head, as if to signify hiscontempt of Hyde's attitude. 

"Considering the position you're in, " he said, turning again to Hyde, "you must see that it's impossible that your relations should be keptfrom knowing. You'll have to give particulars about yourself, sooner orlater. And charges of murder, like this, can't be kept out of thenewspapers. "

"Tell me, Hyde!" exclaimed Viner. "Look here, now, to begin with--youdidn't kill this man?"

Hyde shook his head in a puzzled fashion--something was evidently causinghim surprise. 

"I didn't know the man was killed, or dead, until they brought me here, from that pawnbroker's this morning!" he said. Then he laughed almostcontemptuously, and with some slight show of spirit. "Do you think I'dhave been such a fool as to try to pawn or sell a ring that belonged toa man who'd just been murdered?" he demanded. "I'm not quite such anass as that!"

Viner looked round at Drillford. 

"There!" he said quietly. "What did I tell you? Isn't that what I said?You're on the wrong track, Inspector!"

But Drillford, sternly official in manner, shook his head. 

"How did he come by the ring, then?" he asked, pointing at his prisoner. "Let him say!"

"Hyde!" said Viner. "Tell! I've been certain for an hour that you didn'tkill this man, and I want to help you. But--tell us the truth! What doyou know about it? How did you get that ring?"

"I shall make use of anything he tells, " remarked Drillford warningly. 

"He's going to tell--everything, " said Viner. "Come now, Hyde, thetruth!"

Hyde suddenly dropped into a chair by which he was standing, and pressedhis hand over his face with a gesture which seemed to indicate a certainamount of bewilderment. 

"Let me sit down, " he said. "I'm weak, tired, too. Until this morning Ihadn't had a mouthful of food for a long time, and I'd--well, I'd beenwalking about, night as well as day. I was walking about all yesterday, and a lot of last night. I'm pretty nearly done, if you want to know!"

"Take your time, " said Drillford. "Here, wait a bit, " he went on after asudden glance at his prisoner. "Keep quiet a minute. " He turned to acupboard in the corner of the room and presently came back with somethingin a glass. "Drink that, " he said not unkindly. "Drop of weak brandy andwater, " he muttered to Viner. "Do him no harm--I see how it is withhim--he's been starving. "

Hyde caught the last word and laughed feebly as he handed the glass back. 

"Starving!" he said. "Yes--that's it! I hope neither of you'll know whatit means! Three days without--"

"Now, Hyde!" interrupted Viner. "Never mind that--you won't starve again. Come--tell us all about this--tell everything. "

Hyde bent forward in his chair, but after a look at the two men, hiseyes sought the floor and moved from one plank to another as if he foundit difficult to find a fixed point. 

"I don't know where to begin, Viner, " he said at last. "You see, you'venever met me since we left school. I went in for medicine--I was atBart's for a time, but--well, I was no good, somehow. And then I went infor the stage--I've had some fairly decent engagements, both here and inthe States, now and then. But you know what a precarious business thatis. And some time ago I struck a real bad patch, and I've been out of ajob for months. And lately it's gone from bad to worse--you know, orrather I suppose you don't know, because you've never been in thatfix--pawning everything, and so on, until--well, I haven't had a penny inmy pockets for days now!"

"Your relations?" questioned Viner. 

"Didn't want them to know, " answered Hyde. "The fact is, I haven't beenon good terms with them for a long time, and I've got some prideleft--or I had, until yesterday. But here's the truth: I had to clear outof my lodgings--which was nothing but an attic, three days since, andI've been wandering about, literally hungry and homeless, since that. Ifit hadn't been for that, I should never have been in this hole! Andthat's due to circumstances that beat me, for I tell you again, I don'tknow anything about this man's murder--at least, not about it actually. "

"What do you know?" asked Viner. "Tell us plainly. "

"I'm going to, " responded Hyde. "I was hanging about the Park and aroundKensington Gardens most of yesterday. Then, at night, I got wanderingabout this part--didn't seem to matter much where I went. You don't know, either of you, what it means to wander round, starving. You get into asort of comatose state--you just go on and on. Well, last night I waswalking, in that way, in and out about these Bayswater squares. I gotinto Markendale Square. As I was going along the top side of it, Inoticed a passage and turned into it--as I've said, when a man's in thestate I was in, it doesn't matter where he slouches--anywhere! I turnedinto that passage, I tell you, just aimlessly, as a man came walking out. Viner, look for that man! Find him! He's the fellow these police want! Ifthere's been murder--"

"Keep calm, Hyde!" said Viner. "Go on, quietly. "

"This man passed me and went on into the square, " continued Hyde. "I wentup the passage. It was very dark, except in the middle, where there's anold-fashioned lamp. And then I saw another man, who was lying across theflags. I don't know that I'd any impression about him--I was too sick andweary. I believe I thought he was drunk, or ill or something. But yousee, at the same instant that I saw him, I saw something else which drovehim clean out of my mind. In fact, as soon as I'd seen it, I neverthought about him any more, nor looked at him again. "

"What was it?" demanded Viner, certain of what the answer would be. 

"A diamond ring, " replied Hyde. "It was lying on the flags close bythe man. The light from the lamp fell full on it. And I snatched it up, thrust it into my pocket and ran up the passage. I ran into somebody atthe far end--it turns out to have been you. Well, you saw me hurryoff--I got as far away as I could, lest you or somebody else shouldfollow. I wandered round Westbourne Grove, and then up into the HarrowRoad, and in a sort of back street there I sneaked into a shanty in ayard, and stopped in it the rest of the night. And this morning I triedto pawn the ring. "

"Having no idea of its value, " suggested Viner, with a glance atDrillford, who was listening to everything with an immovable countenance. 

"I thought it might be worth thirty or forty pounds, " answered Hyde. "Ofcourse, I'd no idea that it was worth what's been said. You see, I'mfairly presentable, and I thought I could tell a satisfactory story if Iwas asked anything at the pawnshop. I didn't anticipate any difficultyabout pawning the ring--I don't think there'd have been any if it hadn'tbeen for its value. A thousand pounds! of course, I'd no idea of that!"

"And that's the whole truth?" asked Viner. 

"It's the whole truth as far as I'm concerned, " answered Hyde. "Icertainly picked up that ring in that passage, close by this man who waslying there. But I didn't know he was dead; I didn't know he'd beenmurdered. All I know is that I was absolutely famishing, desperate, in nocondition to think clearly about anything. I guess I should do the samething again, under the circumstances. I only wish--"

He paused and began muttering to himself, and the two listeners glancedat each other. "You only wish what, Hyde?" asked Viner. 

"I wish it had been a half-crown instead of that ring!" said Hyde with aqueer flashing glance at his audience. "I could have got a bed forfourpence, and have lived for three days on the rest. And now--"

Viner made no remark; and Drillford, who was leaning against his desk, watching his prisoner closely, tapped Hyde on the shoulder. 

"Can you describe the man who came out of the passage as you entered it?"he asked. "Be accurate, now!"

Hyde's face brightened a little, and his eyes became more intelligent. 

"Yes!" he answered. "You know--or you don't know--how your mentalfaculties get sharpened by hunger. I was dull enough, in one way, butalert enough in another. I can describe the man--as much as I saw of him. A tall man--neither broad nor slender--half-and-half. Dressed in blackfrom top to toe. A silk hat--patent leather boots--and muffled to theeyes in a white silk handkerchief. "

"Could you see his face?" asked Drillford. "Was he clean-shaved, orbearded, or what?"

"I tell you he was muffled to the very eyes, " answered Hyde. "One ofthose big silk handkerchiefs, you know--he had it drawn up over his chinand nose--right up. "

"Then you'd have difficulty in knowing him again, " observed Drillford. "There are a few thousand men in the West End of London who'd answer thedescription you've given. "

"All right!" muttered Hyde doggedly. "But--I know what I saw. And if youwant to help me, Viner, find that man--because he must have come straightaway from the body!"

Drillford turned to Viner, glancing at the same time at the clock. 

"Do you want to ask him any more questions?" he inquired. "No? Well, there's just one I want to ask. What were you doing with that knife inyour possession?" he went on, turning to Hyde. "Be careful, now; youheard what the doctor said about it, in court?"

"I've nothing to conceal, " replied Hyde. "You heard me say just now thatI'd had engagements in the States. I bought that knife when I was outWest--more as a curiosity than anything--and I've carried it in my pocketever since. "

Drillford looked again at Viner. 

"He'll have to go, now, " he said. "If you're going to employ legal helpfor him, the solicitor will know where and when he can see him. " Hepaused on his way to the door and looked a little doubtfully at hisprisoner. "I'll give you a bit of advice, " he said, "not as an official, but as an individual. If you want to clear yourself, you'd better giveall the information you can. "

"I'll send my own solicitor to you, Hyde, at once, " said Viner. "Beabsolutely frank with him about everything. "

When Viner was once more alone with Drillford, the two men looked ateach other. 

"My own impression, " said Viner, after a significant silence, "is thatwe have just heard the plain truth! I'm going to work on it, anyway. "

"In that case, Mr. Viner, there's no need for me to say anything, "remarked Drillford. "It may be the plain truth. But as I am what I am, all I know is the first-hand evidence against this young fellow. So hereally was a schoolmate of yours?"

"Certainly!" said Viner. "His people live, or did live, in the north. Ishall have to get into communication with them. But now--what about theinformation he gave you? This man he saw?"

Drillford shook his head. 

"Mr. Viner, " he answered, "you don't understand police methods. We've gotvery strong evidence against Hyde. We know nothing about a tall man in awhite muffler. If you want to clear Hyde, you'd better do what hesuggested--find that man! I wish you may--if he ever existed!"

"You don't believe Hyde?" asked Viner. 

"I'm not required to believe anything, sir, unless I've good proof ofit, " said Drillford with a significant smile. "If there is any mystery inthis murder, well--let's hope something will clear it up. "

Viner went away troubled and thoughtful. He remembered Hyde well enoughnow, though so many years had elapsed since their last meeting. And hewas genuinely convinced of his innocence: there had been a ring of truthin all that he had said. Who, then, was the guilty man? And had robberybeen the real motive of the murder? Might it not have been that Ashtonhad been murdered for some quite different motive, and that the murdererhad hastily removed the watch, chain, purse, and rings from the bodywith the idea of diverting suspicion, and in his haste had dropped one ofthe rings?

"If only one knew more about Ashton and his affairs!" mused Viner. "Evenhis own people don't seem to know much. "

This reminded him of his promise to call on Miss Wickham. He glanced athis watch: it was not yet one o'clock: the proceedings before themagistrate and the subsequent talk with Hyde had occupied comparativelylittle time. So Viner walked rapidly to number seven in the square, intent on doing something toward clearing Hyde of the charge broughtagainst him. The parlour-maid whom he had seen the night before admittedhim at once; it seemed to Viner that he was expected. She led himstraight to a room in which Mrs. Killenhall and Miss Wickham were inconversation with an elderly man, who looked at Viner with considerablecuriosity when his name was mentioned, and who was presently introducedto him as Mr. Ashton's solicitor, Mr. Pawle, of Crawle, Pawle andRattenbury. 

CHAPTER VI

SPECULATIONS

Mr. Pawle, an alert-looking, sharp-eyed little man, whom Viner at oncerecognized as having been present in the magistrate's court when Hyde wasbrought up, smiled as he shook hands with the new visitor. 

"You don't know me, Mr. Viner, " he said. "But I knew your father verywell--he and I did a lot of business together in our time. You haven'tfollowed his profession, I gather?"

"I'm afraid I haven't any profession, Mr. Pawle, " answered Viner. "I'm astudent--and a bit, a very little bit, of a writer. "

"Aye, well, your father was a bit in that way too, " remarked Mr. Pawle. "I remember that he was a great collector of books--you have his library, no doubt?"

"Yes, and I'm always adding to it, " said Viner. "I shall be glad to showyou my additions, any time. "

Mr. Pawle turned to the two ladies, waving his hand at Viner. 

"Knew his father most intimately, " he said, as if he were guaranteeingthe younger man's status. "Fine fellow, was Stephen Viner. Well, " hecontinued, dropping into a chair, and pointing Viner to another, "this isa sad business that we've got concerned in, young man! Now, what do youthink of the proceedings we've just heard? Your opinion, Mr. Viner, isprobably better worth having than anybody's, for you saw this fellowrunning away from the scene, and you found my unfortunate client lyingdead. What, frankly, _is_ your opinion?"

"I had better tell you something that's just happened, " replied Viner. Hewent on to repeat the statements which Hyde had just made to Drillfordand himself. "My opinion, " he concluded, "is that Hyde is speaking theplain truth--that all he really did was, as he affirms, to pick up thatring and run away. I don't believe he murdered Mr. Ashton, and I'm goingto do my best to clear him. "

He looked round from one listener to another, seeking opinion from each. Mr. Pawle maintained a professional imperturbability; Mrs. Killenhalllooked mildly excited on hearing this new theory. But from Miss Wickham, Viner got a flash of intelligent comprehension. 

"The real thing is this, " she said, "none of us know anything about Mr. Ashton, really. He may have had enemies. "

Pawle rubbed his chin; the action suggested perplexity. 

"Miss Wickham is quite right, " he said. "Mr. Ashton is more or less a manof mystery. He had been here in England two months. His ward knows nextto nothing about him, except that she was left in his guardianship many ayear ago, that he sent her to England, to school, and that he recentlyjoined her here. Mrs. Killenhall knows no more than that he engaged heras chaperon to his ward, and that they exchanged references. Hisreferences were to his bankers and to me. But neither his bankers nor Iknow anything of him, except that he was a very well-to-do man. I cantell precisely what his bankers know. It is merely this: he transferredhis banking-account from an Australian bank to them on coming to London. I saw them this morning on first getting the news. They have about twohundred thousand pounds lying to his credit. That's absolutely all theyknow about him--all!"

"The Australian bankers would know more, " suggested Viner. 

"Precisely!" agreed Mr. Pawle. "We can get news from them, in time. Butnow, what do I know? No more than this--Mr. Ashton called on me about sixor seven weeks ago, told me that he was an Australian who had come tosettle in London, that he was pretty well off, and that he wanted to makea will. We drafted a will on his instructions, and he duly executed it. Here it is! Miss Wickham has just seen it. Mr. Ashton has left everypenny he had to Miss Wickham. He told me she was the only child of an oldfriend of his, who had given her into his care on his death out inAustralia, some years ago, and that as he, Ashton, had no near relations, he had always intended to leave her all he had. And so he has, withoutcondition, or reservation, or anything--all is yours, Miss Wickham, andI'm your executor. But now, " continued Mr. Pawle, "how far does this takeus toward solving the mystery of my client's death? So far as I can see, next to nowhere! And I am certain of this, Mr. Viner: if we are going tosolve it, and if this old school friend of yours is being unjustlyaccused, and is to be cleared, we must find out more about Ashton'sdoings since he came to London. The secret lies--there!"

"I quite agree, " answered Viner. "But--who knows anything?"

Mr. Pawle looked at the two ladies. 

"That's a stiff question!" he said. "The bankers tell me that Ashton onlycalled on them two or three times; he called on me not oftener; neitherthey nor I ever had much conversation with him. These two ladies shouldknow more about him than anybody--but they seem to know little. "

Viner, who was sitting opposite to her, looked at Miss Wickham. 

"You must know something about his daily life?" he said. "What did he dowith himself?"

"We told you and the police-inspector pretty nearly all we know, lastnight, " replied Miss Wickham. "As a rule, he used to go out of amorning--I think, from his conversation, he used to go down to the City. I don't think it was on business: I think, he liked to look about him. Sometimes he came home to lunch; sometimes he didn't. Very often in theafternoon he took us for motor-rides into the country--sometimes he tookus to the theatres. He used to go out a good deal, alone at night--wedon't know where. "

"Did he ever mention any club?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No, never!" replied Miss Wickham. "He was reticent about himself--alwaysvery kind and thoughtful and considerate for Mrs. Killenhall and myself, but he was a reserved man. "

"Did he ever have any one to see him?" inquired the solicitor. "Any mento dine, or anything of that sort?"

"No--not once. No one has ever even called on him, " said Miss Wickham. "We have had two or three dinner-parties, but the people who came werefriends of mine--two or three girls whom I knew at school, who are nowmarried and live in London. "

"A lonely sort of man!" commented Mr. Pawle. "Yet--he must have knownpeople. Where did he go when he went into the City? Where did he go atnight? There must be somebody somewhere who can tell more about him. Ithink it will be well if I ask for information through the newspapers. "

"There is one matter we haven't mentioned, " said Mrs. Killenhall. "Justafter we got settled down here, Mr. Ashton went away for some days--threeor four days. That, of course, may be quite insignificant. "

"Do you know where he went?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No, we don't know, " answered Mrs. Killenhall. "He went away one Mondaymorning, saying that now everything was in order we could spare him for afew days. He returned on the following Thursday or Friday, --I forgetwhich, --but he didn't tell us where he had been. "

"You don't think any of the servants would know?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh, dear me, no!" replied Mrs. Killenhall. "He was the sort of man whorarely speaks to his servants--except when he wanted something. "

Mr. Pawle looked at his watch and rose. 

"Well!" he said. "We shall have to find out more about my late client'shabits and whom he knew in London. There may have been a motive for thismurder of which we know nothing. Are you coming, Mr. Viner? I should likea word with you!"

Viner, too, had risen; he looked at Miss Wickham. 

"I hope my aunt called on you this morning?" he asked. "I was coming withher, but I had to go round to the police-station. "

"She did call, and she was very kind indeed, thank you, " said MissWickham. "I hope she'll come again. "

"We shall both be glad to do anything, " said Viner. "Please don'thesitate about sending round for me if there's anything at all I cando. " He followed Mr. Pawle into the square, and turned him towards hisown house. "Come and lunch with me, " he said. "We can talk over this atour leisure. "

"Thank you--I will, " answered Mr. Pawle. "Very pleased. Between you andme, Mr. Viner, this is a very queer business. I'm quite prepared tobelieve the story that young fellow Hyde tells. I wish he'd told itstraight out in court. But you must see that he's in a very dangerousposition--very dangerous indeed! The police, of course, won't credit aword of his tale--not they! They've got a strong _prima facie_ caseagainst him, and they'll follow it up for all they're worth. The realthing to do, if you're to save him, is to find the real murderer. And todo that, you'll need all your wits! If one only had some theory!"

Viner introduced Mr. Pawle to Miss Penkridge with the remark that she wassomething of an authority in mysteries, and as soon as they had sat downto lunch, told her of Langton Hyde and his statement. 

"Just so!" said Miss Penkridge dryly. "That's much more likely to bethe real truth than that this lad killed Ashton. There's a great dealmore in this murder than is on the surface, and I dare say Mr. Pawleagrees with me. "

"I dare say I do, " assented Mr. Pawle. "The difficulty is--how topenetrate into the thick cloak of mystery. "

"When I was round there, at Number Seven, this morning, " observed MissPenkridge, "those two talked very freely to me about Mr. Ashton. Now, there's one thing struck me at once--there must be men in London who knewhim. He couldn't go out and about, as he evidently did, without meetingmen. Even if it wasn't in business, he'd meet men somewhere. And if Iwere you, I should invite men who knew him to come forward and tell whatthey know. "

"It shall be done--very good advice, ma'am, " said Mr. Pawle. 

"And there's another thing, " said Miss Penkridge. "I should find out whatcan be told about Mr. Ashton where he came from. I believe you can gettelegraphic information from Australia within a few hours. Why not go tothe expense--when there's so much at stake? Depend upon it, the realsecret of this murder lies back in the past--perhaps the far past. "

"That too shall be done, " agreed Mr. Pawle. "I shouldn't be surprised ifyou're right. "

"In my opinion, " remarked Miss Penkridge, dryly, "the robbing of thisdead man was all a blind. Robbery wasn't the motive. Murder was the thingin view! And why? It may have been revenge. It may be that Ashton had tobe got out of the way. And I shouldn't wonder a bit if that isn't at thebottom of it, which is at the top and bottom of pretty nearlyeverything!"

"And that, ma'am?" asked Mr. Pawle, who evidently admired MissPenkridge's shrewd observations, "that is what, now?"

"Money!" said Miss Penkridge. "Money!"

The old solicitor went away, promising to get to work on the linessuggested by Miss Penkridge, and next day he telephoned to Viner askinghim to go down to his offices in Bedford Row. Viner hurried off, and onarriving found Mr. Pawle with a cablegram before him. 

"I sent a pretty long message to Melbourne, to Ashton's old bankers, assoon as I left you yesterday, " he said. "I gave them the news of hismurder, and asked for certain information. Here's their answer. I rangyou up as soon as I got it. "

Viner read the cablegram carefully:

Deeply regret news. Ashton well known here thirty years dealer in realestate. Respected, wealthy. Quiet man, bachelor. Have made inquiries inquarters likely to know. Cannot trace anything about friend namedWickham. Ashton was away from Melbourne, up country, four years, someyears ago. May have known Wickham then. Ashton left here end July, by_Maraquibo_, for London. Was accompanied by two friends Fosdick andStephens. Please inform if can do more. 

"What do you think of that?" asked Mr. Pawle. "Not much in it, is there?"

"There's the mention of two men who might know something of Ashton'shabits, " said Viner. "If Fosdick and Stephens are still in England andwere Ashton's friends, one would naturally conclude that he'd seen themsometimes. Yet we haven't heard of their ever going to his house. "

"We can be quite certain that they never did--from what the two ladiessay, " remarked Mr. Pawle. "Perhaps they don't live in London. I'lladvertise for both. But now, here's another matter. I asked these peopleif they could tell me anything about Wickham, the father of this girl towhom Ashton's left his very considerable fortune. Well, you see, theycan't. Now, it's a very curious thing, but Miss Wickham has no papers, has, in fact, nothing whatever to prove her identity. Nor have I. Ashtonleft nothing of that sort. I know no more, and she knows no more, thanwhat he told both of us--that her father died when she was a mere child, her mother already being dead, that the father left her in Ashton'sguardianship, and that Ashton, after sending her here to school, eventually came and took her to live with him. There isn't a singledocument really to show who she is, who her father was, or anything abouther family. "

"Is that very important?" asked Viner. 

"It's decidedly odd!" said Mr. Pawle. "This affair seems to be gettingmore mysterious than ever. "

"What's to be done next?" inquired Viner. 

"Well, the newspapers are always very good about that, " answered thesolicitor. "I'm getting them to insert paragraphs asking the two men, Fosdick and Stephens, to come forward and tell us if they've seenanything of Ashton since he came to England; I'm also asking if anybodycan tell us where Ashton was when he went away from home on that visitthat Mrs. Killenhall spoke of. If--"

Just then a clerk came into Mr. Pawle's room, and bending down to him, whispered a few words which evidently occasioned him great surprise. 

"At once!" he said. "Bring them straight in, Parkinson. God bless me!" heexclaimed, turning to Viner. "Here are the two men in question--Fosdickand Stephens! Saw our name in the paper as Ashton's solicitors and wantto see me urgently. "

CHAPTER VII

WHAT WAS THE SECRET?

The two men who were presently ushered in were typical Colonials--big, hefty fellows as yet in early middle age, alert, evidently prosperous, iftheir attire and appointments were anything to go by, and each wasobviously deeply interested in the occasion of his visit to Mr. Pawle. Two pairs of quick eyes took in the old solicitor and his companion, andthe elder of the men came forward in a businesslike manner. 

"Mr. Pawle, I understand?" he said. "I'm Mr. Fosdick, of Melbourne, Victoria; this is my friend Mr. Stephens, same place. "

"Take a seat, Mr. Fosdick--have this chair, Mr. Stephens, " responded Mr. Pawle. "You wish to see me--on business?"

"That's so, " answered Fosdick as the two men seated themselves by thesolicitor's desk. "We saw your name in the newspapers this morning inconnection with the murder of John Ashton. Now, we knew John Ashton--hewas a Melbourne man, too--and we can tell something about him. So we cameto you instead of the police. Because, Mr. Pawle, what we can tell ismaybe more a matter for a lawyer than for a policeman. It's mysterious. "

"Gentlemen, " said Mr. Pawle, "I'll be frank with you. I recognized yournames as soon as my clerk announced them. Here's a cablegram which I havejust received from Melbourne--you'll see your names mentioned in it. "

The two callers bent over the cablegram, and Fosdick looked up andnodded. 

"Yes, that's right, " he said. "We came over with John Ashton in the_Maraquibo_. We knew him pretty well before that--most folk in Melbournedid. But of course, we were thrown into his company on board ship rathermore than we'd ever been before. And we very much regret to hear ofwhat's happened to him. "

"You say there is something you can tell?" observed Mr. Pawle. "If it'sanything that will help to solve the mystery of this murder, --for thereis a mystery, --I shall be very glad to hear it. "

Fosdick and Stephens glanced at each other and then at Viner, who sat alittle in Mr. Pawle's rear. 

"Partner of yours?" asked Fosdick. 

"Not at all! This gentleman, " replied Mr. Pawle, "is Mr. Viner. It was hewho found Ashton's dead body. They were neighbours. "

"Well, you found the body of a very worthy man, sir, " remarked Fosdickgravely. "And we'd like to do something toward finding the man who killedhim. For we don't think it was this young fellow who's charged with it, nor that robbery was the motive. We think John Ashton was--removed. Putout of the way!"

"Why, now?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"I'll tell you, " replied Fosdick. "My friend Stephens, here, is a man offew words; he credits me with more talkativeness than he'll lay claimto. So I'm to tell the tale. There mayn't be much in it, and there may bea lot. We think there's a big lot! But this is what it comes to: Ashtonwas a close man, a reserved man. However, one night, when the three of uswere having a quiet cigar in a corner of the smoking saloon in the_Maraquibo_, he opened out to us a bit. We'd been talking about gettingover to England--we'd all three emigrated, you'll understand, when wewere very young--and the talk ran on what we'd do. Fosdick and Stephens, d'ye see, were only on a visit, --which is just coming to an end, Mr. Pawle; we sail home in a day or two, --but Ashton was turning home forgood. And he said to us, in a sort of burst of confidence, that he'd haveplenty to do when he landed. He said that he was in possession--solepossession--of a most extraordinary secret, the revelation of which wouldaffect one of the first families in England, and he was going to bring itout as soon as he'd got settled down in London. Well--you may besurprised, but--that's all. "

"All you can tell?" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. 

"All! But we can see plenty in it, " said Fosdick. "Our notion is thatAshton was murdered by somebody who didn't want that secret to come out. Now, you see if events don't prove we're right. "

"Gentlemen, " said Mr. Pawle, "allow me to ask you a few questions. "

"Many as you please, sir, " assented Fosdick. "We'll answer anything. "

"He didn't tell you what the secret was?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No. He said we'd know more about it in time, " replied Fosdick. "Itwould possibly lead to legal proceedings, he said--in that case, it wouldbe one of the most celebrated cases ever known. "

"And romantic, " added Stephens, speaking for the first time. "Romantic!That was the term he used. "

"And romantic--quite so, " assented Fosdick. "Celebrated andromantic--those were the words. But in any case, he said, whether it gotto law matters or not, it couldn't fail to be in the papers, and weshould read all about it in due time. "

"And you know no more than that?" inquired Mr. Pawle. 

"Nothing!" said Fosdick with decision. 

Mr. Pawle looked at Viner as if to seek some inspiration. And Viner tookup the work of examination. 

"Do you know anything of Mr. Ashton's movements since he came toLondon?" he asked. 

"Next to nothing, " replied Fosdick. "Ashton left the _Maraquibo_ atNaples, and came overland--he wanted to put in a day or two in Rome and aday or two in Paris. We came round by sea to Tilbury. Then Stephens and Iseparated--he went to see his people in Scotland, and I went to mine inLancashire. We met--Stephens and I--in London here last week. And we sawAshton for just a few minutes, down in the City. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "You have seen him, then! Did anythinghappen?"

"You mean relating to what he'd told _us_?" said Fosdick. "Well, no morethan I asked him sort of jokingly, how the secret was. And he said it wasjust about to come out, and we must watch the papers. "

"There was a remark he made, " observed Stephens. "He said it would be ofjust as much interest, perhaps of far more, to our Colonial papers as tothe English. "

"Yes--he said that, " agreed Fosdick. "He knew, you see, that we were justabout setting off home. "

"He didn't ask you to his house?" inquired Mr. Pawle. 

"That was mentioned, but we couldn't fix dates, " replied Fosdick. "However, we told him we were both coming over again on business, nextyear, and we'd come and see him then. "

Mr. Pawle spread out his hands with a gesture of helplessness. 

"We're as wise as ever, " he exclaimed. 

"No, " said Fosdick emphatically, "wiser! The man had a secret, affectingpowerful interests. Many a man's been put away for having a secret. "

Mr. Pawle put his finger-tips together and looked thoughtfully at hiselder visitor. 

"Well, there's a good deal in that, " he said at last. "Now, while you'rehere, perhaps you can tell me something else about Ashton. How long haveyou known him?"

"Ever since we were lads, " answered Fosdick readily. "He was a grown man, then, though. Stephens and I are about forty--Ashton was sixty. "

"You've always known of him as a townsman of Melbourne?"

"That's so. We were taken out there when we were about ten ortwelve--Ashton lived near where we settled down. He was a speculator inproperty--made his money in buying and selling lots. "

"Was he well known?"

"Everybody knew Ashton. "

"Did you ever know of his having a friend named Wickham?" inquired Mr. Pawle with a side-glance at Viner. "Think carefully, now!"

But Fosdick shook his head, and Stephens shook his. 

"Never heard the name, " said Fosdick. 

"Did you ever hear Ashton mention the name!" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"Never!"

"Never heard him mention it on board ship--when he was coming home?"

"No--never!"

"Well, " said Mr. Pawle, "I happen to know that Ashton, some years ago, had a very particular friend named Wickham, out in Australia. "

A sudden light came into Fosdick's keen grey-blue eyes. 

"Ah, " he said. "I can tell how that may be. A good many years ago, whenwe were just familiar enough with Melbourne to know certain people in it, I remember that Ashton was away up country for some time--as thatcablegram says. Most likely he knew this Wickham then. Is that theWickham mentioned there?"

"It is, " assented Mr. Pawle, "and I want to know who he was. "

"Glad to set any inquiries going for you when we get back, " said Fosdick. "We sail in two days. "

"Gentlemen, " answered Mr. Pawle gravely, "it takes, I believe, five orsix weeks to reach Australia. By the time you get there, this unfortunatefellow Hyde, who's charged with the murder of Ashton, on evidence that isquite sufficient to satisfy an average British jury, will probably havebeen tried, convicted and hanged. No! I'm afraid we must act at once ifwe're to help him, as Mr. Viner here is very anxious to do. And there'ssomething you can do. The coroner's inquest is to be held tomorrow. Gothere and volunteer the evidence you've just told us! It mayn't do ascrap of good--but it will introduce an element of doubt into the caseagainst Hyde, and that will benefit him. "

"Tomorrow?" said Fosdick. "We'll do it. Give us the time and place. We'llbe there, Mr. Pawle. I see your point, sir--to introduce the idea thatthere's more to this than the police think. "

When the two callers had gone, Mr. Pawle turned to Viner. 

"Now, my friend, " he said, "you've already sent your own solicitor toHyde, haven't you? Who is he, by the by?"

"Felpham, of Chancery Lane, " replied Viner. 

"Excellent man! Now, " said Mr. Pawle, "you go to Felpham and tell himwhat these two Australians have just told us, and say that in my opinionit will be well worth while, in his client's interest, to develop theirevidence for all it's worth. That theory of Fosdick's may have a greatdeal in it. And another thing--Felpham must insist on Hyde being presentat the inquest tomorrow and giving evidence. That, I say, must be done!Hyde must make his story public as soon as possible. He must be broughtto the inquest. He'll be warned by the coroner, of course, that he's notbound to give any evidence at all, but he must go into the box and tell, on oath, all that he told you and Drillford. Now be off to Felpham andinsist on all this being done. "

Viner went away to Chancery Lane more puzzled than ever. What was thissecret affecting one of the first families in England, of which Ashtonhad told his two Melbourne friends? How was it, if legal proceedings werelikely to arise out of it, that Ashton had not told Pawle about it? Wasit possible that he had gone to some other solicitor? If so, why didn'the come forward? And what, too, was this mystery about Miss Wickham andher father? Why, as Pawle had remarked, were there no papers ordocuments, concerning her to be found anywhere? Had she anything to dowith the secret? It seemed to him that the confusion was becoming moreconfounded. But the first thing to do was to save Hyde. And he wasrelieved to see that Felpham jumped at Pawle's suggestion. 

"Good!" said Felpham. "Of course, I'll have Hyde brought up at theinquest, and he shall tell his story. And we'll save these Australianchaps until Hyde's been in the box. I do wish Hyde himself could tell usmore about that man whom he saw leaving the passage. Of course, that manis the actual murderer. "

"You think that?" asked Viner. 

"Don't doubt it for one moment--and a cool, calculating hand, too!"declared Felpham. "A man who knew what he was doing. How long do yousuppose it would take to strike the life out of a man and to snatch a fewvaluables from his clothing? Pooh! to a hand such as this evidently was, a minute. Then, he walks calmly away. And--who is he? But--we're notdoing badly. "

That, too, was Viner's impression when he walked out of the coroner'scourt next day. After having endured its close and sordid atmosphere forfour long hours, he felt, more from intuition than from anythingtangible, that things had gone well for Hyde. One fact was plain--nothingmore could be brought out against Hyde, either there, when the inquestwas resumed a week later, or before the magistrate, or before a judge andjury. Every scrap of evidence against him was produced before thecoroner: it was obvious that the police could rake up no more, unlessindeed they could prove him to have hidden Ashton's remaining valuablessomewhere which was ostensibly an impossibility. And the evidence of Hydehimself had impressed the court. Two days' rest and refreshment, even ina prison and on prison fare, had pulled him together, and he had givenhis evidence clearly and confidently. Viner had seen that people wereimpressed by it: they had been impressed, too, by the evidencevolunteered by the two Australians. And when the coroner announced thathe should adjourn the inquiry for a week, the folk who had crowded thecourt went away asking each other not if Hyde was guilty, but what wasthis secret of which Ashton had boasted the possession?

Drillford caught Viner up as he walked down the street and smiledgrimly at him. 

"Well, you're doing your best for him, and no mistake, Mr. Viner, " hesaid. "He's a lucky chap to have found such a friend!"

"He's as innocent as I am, " answered Viner. "Look here; if youpolice want to do justice, why don't you try to track the man whomHyde has told of?"

"What clue have we?" exclaimed Drillford almost contemptuously. "A tallman in black clothes, muffled to his eyes! But I'll tell you what, Mr. Viner, " he added with a grin: "as you're so confident, why don't youfind him?"

"Perhaps I shall, " said Viner, quietly. 

He meant what he said, and he was thinking deeply what might be donetowards accomplishing his desires, when, later in the afternoon, Mr. Pawle rang him up on the telephone. 

"Run down!" said Mr. Pawle cheerily. "There's a new development!"

CHAPTER VIII

NEWS FROM ARCADIA

When Viner, half an hour later, walked into the waiting-room at Crawle, Pawle and Rattenbury's, he was aware of a modestly attired young woman, evidently, from her dress and appearance, a country girl, who sat shylyturning over the pages of an illustrated paper. And as soon as he gotinto Pawle's private room, the old solicitor jerked his thumb at the doorby which Viner had entered, and smiled significantly. 

"See that girl outside?" he asked. "She's the reason of my ringing youup. "

"Yes?" said Viner. "But what--why? More mystery?"

"Don't know, " said Mr. Pawle. "I've kept her story till you came. Sheturned up here about three-quarters of an hour ago, and said that hergrandmother, who keeps an inn at Marketstoke, in Buckinghamshire, hadseen the paragraph in the papers this morning in which I asked if anybodycould give any information about Mr. John Ashton's movements, and hadimmediately sent her off to me with the message that a gentleman of thatname stayed at their house for a few days some weeks since, and that if Iwould send somebody over there, she, the grandmother, could give someparticulars about him. So that solves the question we were talking of atMarkendale Square, as to where Ashton went during the absence Mrs. Killenhall told us of. "

"If this is the same Ashton, " suggested Viner. 

"We'll soon decide that, " answered Mr. Pawle as he touched the bell on hisdesk. "I purposely awaited your coming before hearing what this youngwoman had to tell. Now, my dear, " he continued as a clerk brought thegirl into the room, "take a chair and tell me what your message is, moreparticularly. You're from Marketstoke eh? Just so--and your grandmother, who sent you here, keeps an inn there?"

"Yes, sir, the Ellingham Arms, " replied the girl as she sat down andglanced a little nervously at her two interviewers. 

"To be sure. And your grandmother's name is--what?"

"Hannah Summers, sir. "

"Mrs. Hannah Summers. Grandfather living?"

"No, sir. "

"Very well--Mrs. Hannah Summers, landlady at the Ellingham Arms, Marketstoke, in Buckinghamshire. Now then--but what's your name, mydear?"

"Lucy Summers, sir. "

"Very pretty name, I'm sure! Well, and what's the message yourgrandmother sent me? I want this gentleman to hear it. "

"Grandmother wished me to say, sir, that we read the piece in the paperthis morning asking if anybody could give you any news about a Mr. JohnAshton, and that as we had a gentleman of that name staying with us forthree or four days some weeks since, she sent me to tell you, and to saythat if you would send somebody down to see her, she could give someinformation about him. "

"Very clearly put, my dear--much obliged to you, " said Mr. Pawle. "Now, Isuppose you were at the Ellingham Arms when this Mr. Ashton came there?"

"Oh, yes, sir; I live there!"

"To be sure! Now, what sort of man was he--in appearance?"

"A tall, big gentleman, sir, with a beard, going a little grey. He waswearing a blue serge suit. "

Mr. Pawle nodded at Viner. 

"Seems like our man, " he remarked. "Now, " he went on, turning again toLucy Summers, "you say he stayed there three or four days. What did he dowith himself while he was there?"

"He spent a good deal of time about the church, sir, " answered the girl, "and he was at Ellingham Park a good deal--"

"Whose place is that?" interrupted Mr. Pawle. 

"Lord Ellingham's, sir. "

"Do you mean that Mr. Ashton called on Lord Ellingham, or what?"

"No, sir, because Lord Ellingham wasn't there--he scarcely ever isthere, " replied Lucy Summers. "I mean that Mr. Ashton went into the parka good deal and looked over the house--a good many people come to seeEllingham Park, sir. "

"Well, and what else?" asked Mr. Pawle. "Did he go to see people in thetown at all?"

"I don't know, sir--but he was out most of the day. And at night hetalked a great deal with my grandmother, in her sitting-room, I think, "added the girl with a glance which took in both listeners. "I thinkthat's what she wants to tell about. She would have come here herself, but she's over seventy and doesn't like travelling. "

Mr. Pawle turned to Viner. 

"Now we know where we are, " he said. "There's no doubt that this is ourAshton, and that Mrs. Summers has something she can tell about him. Viner, I suggest that you and I go down to Marketstoke this afternoon. You've accommodations for a couple of gentlemen, I suppose, my dear?" headded, turning to the girl. "Couple of nice bedrooms and a bit ofdinner, eh?"

"Oh, yes sir!" replied Lucy Summers. "We constantly have gentlementhere, sir. "

"Very well, " said Mr. Pawle. "Now, then, you run away home toMarketstoke, my dear, and tell your grandmother that I'm very muchobliged to her, and that I am coming down this evening, with thisgentleman, Mr. Viner, and that we shall be obliged if she'll have a nice, plain, well-cooked dinner ready for us at half-past seven. We shall comein my motorcar--you can put that up for the night, and my driver too?Very well--that's settled. Now, come along, and one of my clerks shallget you a cab to your station. Great Central, isn't it? All right--mindyou get yourself a cup of tea before going home. "

"Viner, " Pawle continued when he had taken the girl into the outeroffice, "we can easily run down to Marketstoke in under two hours. I'llcall for you at your house at half-past five. That'll give us time towash away the dirt before our dinner. And then--we'll hear what this oldlady has to tell. "

Viner, who was musing somewhat vaguely over these curious developments, looked at Mr. Pawle as if in speculation about his evident optimism. 

"You think we shall hear something worth hearing?" he asked. 

"I should say we probably shall, " replied Mr. Pawle. "Put thingstogether. Ashton goes away--as soon as he's got settled down inMarkendale Square--on a somewhat mysterious journey. Now we hear that hehad a secret. Perhaps something relating to that secret is mixed up withhis visit to Marketstoke. Depend upon it, an old woman of overseventy--especially a landlady of a country-town inn, whose wits arepresumably pretty sharp--wouldn't send for me unless she'd something totell. Before midnight, my dear sir, we may have learnt a good deal. "

Viner picked up his hat. 

"I'll be ready for you at half-past five, " he said. Then, halfway to thedoor, he turned with a question: "By the by, " he added, "you wouldn'tlike me to tell the two ladies that we've found out where Ashton wentwhen he was away?"

"I think not until we've found out why he went away, " answered the oldlawyer with a significant smile. "We may draw the covert blank, you know, after all. When we've some definite news--"

Viner nodded, went out, into the afternoon calm of Bedford Row. As hewalked up it, staring mechanically at the old-fashioned red brick fronts, he wondered how many curious secrets had been talked over and perhapsunravelled in the numerous legal sanctuaries approached through thoseopen doorways. Were there often as strange ones as that upon which he hadso unexpectedly stumbled? And when they first came into the arena ofthought and speculation did they arouse as much perplexity and mentalexercise as was now being set up in him? Did every secret, too, possiblyendanger a man's life as his old schoolfellow's was being endangered? Hehad no particular affection or friendship for Langton Hyde, of whom, indeed, he had known very little at school, but he had an absoluteconviction that he was innocent of murder, and that conviction hadalready aroused in him a passionate determination to outwit the police. He had been quick to see through Drillford's plans. There was a case, astrong _prima facie_ case against Hyde, and the police would work it upfor all they were worth. Failing proofs in other directions, failing thediscovery of the real murderer, how was that case going to be upset? Andwas it likely that he and Pawle were going to find any really importantevidence in an obscure Buckinghamshire market-town?

He jumped into a cab at the top of Bedford Row and hastened back toMarkendale Square to pack a bag and prepare for his journey. MissPenkridge called to him from the drawing-room as he was running upstairs;he turned into the room to find her in company with two ladies--dismal, pathetic figures in very plain and obviously countrified garments, bothin tears and evident great distress, who, as Viner walked in, rose fromtheir chairs and gazed at him sadly and wistfully. They reminded him atonce of the type of spinster found in quiet, unpretentious cottages inout-of-the-way villages--the neither young nor old women, who live oncircumscribed means and are painfully shy of the rude world outside. Andbefore either he or Miss Penkridge could speak, the elder of the twobroke into an eager exclamation. 

"Oh, Mr. Viner, we are Langton's sisters! And we are so grateful toyou--and oh, do you think you can save him?"

Viner was quick to seize the situation. He said a soothing word or two, begged his visitors to sit down again, and whispered to Miss Penkridge toring for tea. 

"You have come to town today?" he asked. 

"We left home very, very early this morning, " replied the elder sister. "We learned this dreadful news last night in the evening paper. We cameaway at four o'clock this morning--we live in Durham, Mr. Viner, --and wehave been to Mr. Felpham's office this afternoon. He told us how kind youhad been in engaging his services for our unfortunate brother, and wecame to thank you. But oh, do you think there is any chance for him?"

"Every chance!" declared Viner, pretending more conviction than he felt. "Don't let yourselves be cast down. We'll move heaven and earth to provethat he's wrongly accused. I gather--if you don't mind my asking--thatyour brother has been out of touch with you for some time?"

The two sisters exchanged mournful glances. 

"We had not heard anything of Langton for some years, " replied theelder. "He is much--much younger than ourselves, and perhaps we are toostaid and old-fashioned for him. But if we had known that he was inwant! Oh, dear me, we are not at all well-to-do, Mr. Viner, but we wouldhave sacrificed anything. Mr. Felpham says that we shall be allowed tovisit him--he is going to arrange for us to do so. And of course we mustremain in London until this terrible business is over--we came preparedfor that. "

"Prepared for that!" repeated the other sister, who seemed to be afainter replica of the elder. "Yes, prepared, of course, Mr. Viner. "

"Now that we have found Langton, though in such painful circumstances, "said the first speaker, "we must stand by him. We must find some quietlodging, and settle down to help. We cannot let all the burden fall onyou, Mr. Viner. "

Viner glanced at Miss Penkridge. They were quick to understand eachother, these two, and he knew at once that Miss Penkridge saw what wasin his mind. 

"You must stay with us, " he said, turning to the two mournfulfigures. "We have any amount of room in this house, and we shall beonly too glad--"

"Oh, but that is too--" began both ladies. 

"I insist, " said Viner, with a smile. 

"We both insist!" echoed Miss Penkridge. "We are both given to havingour own way, too; so say no more about it. We are all in the same boatjust now, and its name is _Mystery_, and we must pull together untilwe're in harbour. "

"Listen!" said Viner. "I have to go away tonight, on a matter closelyconnected with this affair. Let me leave you in my aunt's charge, andtomorrow I may be able to give you some cheering news. You'll be muchmore comfortable here than in any lodgings or hotel and--and I shouldlike to do something for Hyde; we're old schoolfellows, you know. "

Then he escaped from the room and made ready for his journey; and athalf-past five came Mr. Pawle in his private car and carried him off intothe dark. And hour and a half later the car rolled smoothly into the mainstreet of a quiet, wholly Arcadian little town, and pulled up before anold-fashioned many-gabled house over the door of which was set up one ofthose ancient signs which, in such places, display the coat of arms ofthe lord of the manor. Viner had just time to glance around him, and in aclear, starlit evening, to see the high tower of a church, the timberedfronts of old houses, and many a tall, venerable tree, before followingMr. Pawle into a stone hall filled with dark oak cabinets and bright withold brass and pewter, on the open hearth of which burnt a fine and cheeryfire of logs. 

"Excellent!" muttered the old lawyer as he began to take off hismultitudinous wraps. "A real bit of the real old England! Viner, if thedinner is as good as this promises, I shall be glad we've come, whateverthe occasion. "

"Here's the landlady, I suppose, " said Viner as a door opened. 

A tall, silver-haired old woman, surprisingly active and vivacious inspite of her evident age, came forward with a polite, old-fashioned bow. She wore a silk gown and a silk apron and a smart cap, and her stillbright eyes took in the two visitors at a glance. 

"Your servant, gentlemen, " she said. "Your rooms are ready, and dinnerwill be ready, too, when you are. This way, if you please. "

"A very fine old house this, ma'am, " observed Mr. Pawle as they followedher up a curious staircase, all nooks and corners. "And you have, nodoubt, been long in it?"

"Born in it, sir, " said the landlady, with a laugh. "Our family--on oneside--has been here two hundred years. This is your room, sir--this isyour friend's. " She paused, and with a significant look, pointed toanother door. "That, " she said, "is the room which Mr. Ashton had when hewas here. "

"Ah! We are very anxious to know what you can tell us about him, ma'am, "said Mr. Pawle. 

Mrs. Summers paused, and again glanced significantly at her visitors. 

"I wish I knew the meaning of what I shall tell you, " she answered. 

CHAPTER IX

LOOKING BACKWARD

On the principle that business should never be discussed when one isdining, Mr. Pawle made no reference during dinner to the matter which hadbrought Viner and himself to the Ellingham Arms. He devoted all hisattention and energies to the pleasures of the table; he praised thegrilled soles and roast mutton and grew enthusiastic over some oldBurgundy which Mrs. Summers strongly recommended. But when dinner wasover and he had drunk a glass or two of old port, his eyes began to turntoward the door of the quaint little parlour in which he and Viner hadbeen installed, and to which the landlady had promised to come. 

"I confess I'm unusually curious about what we're going to hear, Viner, "he said, as he drew out a well-filled cigar-case. "There's an atmosphereof mystery about our presence and our surroundings that's like anapéritif to an already hungry man. Ashton, poor fellow, comes over tothis quiet, out-of-the-way place; why, we don't know; what he does herewe don't know, yet--but all the circumstances, up to now, seem to pointto secrecy, if not to absolute romance and adventure. "

"Is it going, after all, to clear up the mystery of his death?" askedViner. "That's what concerns me--I'm afraid I'm a bit indifferent to therest of it. What particular romance, do you think, could be attached tothe mere fact that Ashton paid a three days' visit to Marketstoke?"

Mr. Pawle drew out a well-filled cigar-case. 

"In my profession, " he answered, "we hear a great deal more of romancethan most folk could imagine. Now, here's a man who returns to thiscountry from a long residence in Australia. The first thing he does, after getting settled down in London, is to visit Marketstoke. WhyMarketstoke? Marketstoke is an obscure place--there are at least five orsix towns in this very county that are better known. Again, I say--whyMarketstoke? And why this, the very first place in England? For whatreason? Now, as a lawyer, a reason does suggest itself to me; I've beenthinking about it ever since that rosy-cheeked lass called at my officethis afternoon. What does the man who's been away from his native landfor the best part of his life do, as a rule, when at last he sets foot onit again--eh?"

"I'm not greatly experienced, " replied Viner, smiling at the oldsolicitor's professional enthusiasm. "What does he do--usually?"

"Makes his way as soon as possible to his native place!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle, with an expressive flourish of his cigar. "That, usually, is thefirst thing he thinks of. You're not old enough to remember thecircumstances, my boy, but I have, of course, a very distinctrecollection of the Tichborne affair in the early seventies. Now, if youever read the evidence in that _cause célèbre_, you'll remember that theclaimant, Orton, on arriving in England, posing as the missing heir, SirRoger Tichborne, did a certain thing, the evidence of which, I can assureyou, was not lost on the jury before whom he eventually came. Instead ofgoing direct to Tichborne, where you'd naturally have thought all hisaffection and interests rested, where did he go? To Whitechapel! Why?Because the Ortons were Whitechapel folk! The native place called him, doyou see? The first thought he had on setting foot on English soilwas--Whitechapel!"

"Are you suggesting that Ashton was probably a native of Marketstoke?"asked Viner. 

"I mean to find out--no matter what we hear from the landlady--if thatname is to be found in the parish register here, anyway, " answered Mr. Pawle. "You can be sure of this--Ashton came to this obscure country townfor some special purpose. What was it? And--had it anything to do with, did it lead up to, his murder? That--"

A light tap at the door heralded the approach of Mrs. Summers. 

"That, " repeated Mr. Pawle, as he jumped up from his chair and politelythrew the door open, "is what I mean to endeavour--endeavour, at anyrate--to discover. Come in, ma'am, " he continued, gallantly motioning theold landlady to the easiest chair in the room. "We are very eager, indeed, to hear what you can tell us. Our cigars, now--"

"Pray, don't mention them, sir, " responded Mrs. Summers. "I hope you arequite comfortable, and that you are having everything you wish?"

"Nothing ma'am, could be more pleasant and gratifying, as far asmaterial comfort goes, " answered Mr. Pawle with conviction. "The dinnerwas excellent; your wine is sound; this old room is a veritable haven! Iwish we were visiting you under less sad conditions. And now about yourrecollections of this poor gentleman, ma'am?"

The landlady laid a large book on the table, and opening it at a pagewhere at she had placed a marker, pointed to a signature. 

"That is the writing of the Mr. John Ashton who came here, " she said. "He registered his name and address the day he came--there it is: 'JohnAshton, 7 Markendale Square, London, W. ' You gentlemen will recogniseit, perhaps?"

Mr. Pawle put up his glasses, glanced once at the open book, and turnedto Viner with a confirmatory nod. 

"That's Ashton's writing, without a doubt, " he said. "It's a signaturenot to be forgotten when you've once seen it. Well, that establishes thefact that he undoubtedly came here on that date. Now, ma'am, what can youtell about him?"

Mrs. Summers took the chair which Viner drew forward to the hearth andfolded her hands over her silk apron. 

"Well sir, " she answered, "a good deal. Mr. Ashton came here one Mondayafternoon, in a motorcar, with his luggage, and asked if I could give himrooms and accommodation for a few days. Of course I could--he had thisroom and the room I pointed out upstairs, and he stayed here until theThursday, when he left soon after lunch--the same car came for him. Andhe hadn't been in the house an hour, gentlemen, before I wondered if hehadn't been here before. "

"Interesting--very!" said Mr. Pawle. "Now, why, ma'am did youwonder that?"

"Well, sir, " replied Mrs. Summers, "because, after he'd looked round thehouse, and seen his room upstairs, he went out to the front door, andthen I followed him, to ask if he had any particular wishes about hisdinner that evening. Our front door, as you will see in the morning, fronts the market square, and from it you can see about all there is tosee of the town. He was standing at the door, under the porch, lookingall round him, and I overheard him talking to himself as I went upbehind him. 

"'Aye!' he was saying, as he looked this way and that, 'there's the oldchurch, and the old moot-hall, and the old market-place, and the oldgabled and thatched houses, and even the old town pump--they haven'tchanged a bit, I reckon, in all these years!' Then he caught sight of me, and he smiled. 'Not many changes in this old place, landlady, in yourtime?' he said pleasantly. 'No, sir, ' I answered. 'We don't change muchin even a hundred years in Marketstoke. ' 'No!' he said, and shook hishead. 'No--the change is in men, in men!' And then he suddenly setstraight off across the square to the churchyard. 'You've knownMarketstoke before, ' I said to myself. "

"You didn't ask him that?" inquired Mr. Pawle, eagerly. 

"I didn't, sir, " replied Mrs. Summers. "I never asked him a question allthe time he was here. I thought that if I was correct in what I fancied, I should hear him say something. But he never did say anything of thatsort--all the same, I felt more and more certain that he did know theplace. And during the time he was here, he went about in it in a fashionthat convinced me that my ideas were right. He was in and around thechurch a great deal--the vicar and the parish clerk can tell you moreabout his visits there than I can--and he was at the old moot-hallseveral times, looking over certain old things they keep there, and hevisited Ellingham Park twice, and was shown over the house. And beforehe'd been here two days I came to a certain conclusion about him, andI've had it ever since, though he never said one word, or did one thingthat could positively confirm me in it. "

"Yes!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "And that, ma'am, was--"

"That he was somebody who disappeared from Marketstoke thirty-five yearsago, " answered the landlady, "disappeared completely, and has never beenheard of from that day to this!"

Mr. Pawle turned slowly and looked at Viner. He nodded his head severaltimes, then turned to Mrs. Summers and regarded her fixedly. 

"And that somebody?" he asked in hushed accents. "Who was he?"

The landlady smoothed her silk apron and shook her head. 

"It's a long story, sir, " she answered. "I think you must have heardsomething of it--though to be sure, it was not talked of much at thetime, and didn't become public until legal proceedings became necessary, some years ago. You're aware, of course, that just outside the town hereis Ellingham Park, the seat of the Earl of Ellingham. Well, what I haveto tell you has to do with them, and I shall have to go back a good way. Thirty-five years ago the head of the family was the seventh Earl, whowas then getting on in life. He was a very overbearing, harsh oldgentleman, not at all liked--the people here in Marketstoke, nearly allof them his tenants, used to be perpetually at variance with him aboutsomething or other; he was the sort of man who wanted to have his own wayabout everything. And he had trouble at home, at any rate with his elderson, --he only had two sons and no daughter, --and about the time I'mtalking of it came to a head. Nobody ever knew exactly what it was allabout, but it was well known that Lord Marketstoke--that was the elderson's name--and his father, the Earl, were at cross purposes, if notactually at daggers drawn, about something or other. And when LordMarketstoke was about twenty five or twenty-six there was a great quarrelbetween them; it broke out one night, after dinner; the servants heardangry words between them. That night, gentlemen, Lord Marketstoke leftthe house and set off to London, and from that day to this he has neverbeen heard of or seen again--hereabouts, at any rate. "

Mr. Pawle, who was listening with the deepest interest and attention, glanced at Viner as if to entreat the same care on his part. 

"I do remember something of this, now I come to think of it, " he said. "There were some legal proceedings in connection with this disappearance, I believe, some years ago. "

"Yes, sir--they were in the newspapers, " asserted the old landlady. "Butof course, those of us about here knew of how things stood long beforethat. Lord Marketstoke went away, as I have said. It was known that hehad money of his own, that had come to him from his mother, who had diedyears before all this. But it wasn't known where he went. Some said he'dgone to the Colonies; some said to America. And at one time there was arumour that he'd taken another name and joined some foreign army, andbeen killed in its service. Anyway, nobody ever heard a word of him--Mr. Marcherson, who was steward at Ellingham Park for over forty years (hedied last year, a very old man) assured me that from the day on whichLord Marketstoke left his father's house not one word of him, not abreath, ever reached any of those he'd left behind him. There wasabsolute silence--he couldn't have disappeared more completely if they'dlaid him in the family vault in Marketstoke church. "

"And evident intention to disappear!" observed Mr. Pawle. "You'll markthat, Viner--it's important. Well, ma'am, " he added, turning again toMrs. Summers. "And--what happened next?"

"Well sir, there was nothing much happened, " continued the landlady. "Matters went on in pretty much the usual way. The old Earl got older, ofcourse, and his temper got worse. Mr. Marcherson assured me that he wasnever known to mention his missing son--to anybody. And in the end, perhaps about fifteen years after Lord Marketstoke had gone away, hedied. And then there was no end of trouble and bother. The Earl had leftno will; at any rate, no will could be found, and no lawyer could beheard of who had ever made one. And of course, nobody knew where the newEarl was, nor even if he was alive or dead. There were advertisementssent out all over the world--Mr. Marcherson told me that they weretranslated into I don't know how many foreign languages and published inevery quarter of the globe--asking for news of him and stating that hisfather was dead. That was done for some time. "

"With no result?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No result whatever, sir--I understand that the family solicitors neverhad one single reply, " answered Mrs. Summers. "I understand, too, thatfor some time before the old Earl's death they'd been trying to traceLord Marketstoke from his last known movements. But that had failed too. He had chambers in London, and he kept a manservant there; the manservantcould only say that on the night on which his young master left EllinghamPark he returned to his chambers, went to bed--and had gone when he, themanservant, rose in the morning. No, sir; all the efforts andadvertisements were no good whatever, and after some time--someconsiderable time--the younger brother, the Honourable CharlesCave-Gray--"

"Cave-Gray? Is that the family name?" interrupted Mr. Pawle. 

"That's the family name, sir--Cave-Gray, " replied Mrs. Summers. "One ofthe oldest families in these parts, sir--the earldom dates from QueenAnne. Well, the Honourable Charles Cave-Gray, and his solicitors, ofcourse, came to the conclusion that Lord Marketstoke was dead, and so--Idon't understand the legal niceties, gentlemen, but they went to thecourts to get something done which presumed his death and let Mr. Charles come into the title and estates. And in the end that had beendone, and Mr. Charles became the eighth Earl of Ellingham. "

"I remember it now, " muttered Mr. Pawle. "Yes--curious case. But it wasproved to the court, I recollect, that everything possible had been doneto find the missing heir--and without result. "

"Just so, sir, and so Mr. Charles succeeded, " asserted Mrs. Summers. "Hewas a very nice, pleasant man, not a bit like his father--a very good andconsiderate landlord, and much respected. But he's gone now--died threeyears ago; and his son, a young man of twenty-two or three, succeededhim--that's the present Earl, gentlemen. And of him we see very little;he scarcely ever stayed at Ellingham Park, except for a bit of shooting, since he came to the title. And now, " she concluded, with a shrewd glanceat the old lawyer, "I wonder if you see, sir, what it was that came intomy mind when this Mr. John Ashton came here a few weeks ago, especiallyafter I heard him say what he did, and after I saw how he was spendinghis time here?"

"I've no inkling, ma'am; I've no inkling!" said Mr. Pawle. "Youwondered--"

"I wondered, " murmured Mrs. Summers, bending closer to her listeners, "ifthe man who called himself John Ashton wasn't in reality the long-lostLord Marketstoke. "

CHAPTER X

THE PARISH REGISTER

Mr. Pawle, after a glance at Viner which seemed to be full of manymeanings, bent forward in his chair and laid a hand on the oldlandlady's arm. 

"Now, have you said as much as that to anybody before?" he asked, ekingher significantly. "Have you mentioned it to your neighbours, forinstance, or to any one in the town?"

"No, sir!" declared Mrs. Summers promptly. "Not to a soul! I'm given tokeeping my ideas to myself, especially on matters of importance. There isno one here in Marketstoke that I would have mentioned such a thing to, now that the late steward, Mr. Marcherson, is dead. I shouldn't havementioned it to you two gentlemen if it hadn't been for this dreadful newsin the papers. No, I've kept my thoughts at home. "

"Wise woman!" said Mr. Pawle. "But now let me ask you a few questions. Did you know this Lord Marketstoke before he disappeared?"

"I only saw him two or three times, " replied the landlady. "It was seldomthat he came to Ellingham Park, after his majority. Of course, I saw hima good deal when he was a mere boy. But after he was grown up, only, as Isay, a very few times. "

"But you remember him?" suggested Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh, very well indeed!" said Mrs. Summers. "I saw him last a day or twobefore he went away for good. "

"Well, now, did you think you recognized anything of him--makingallowance for the difference in age--in this man who called himself JohnAshton?" asked Mr. Pawle. "For that, of course, is important!"

"Mr. Ashton, " answered Mrs. Summers, "was just such a man as LordMarketstoke might have been expected to become. Height, build--all theCave-Grays that I've known were big men--colour, were alike. Of course, Mr. Ashton had a beard, slightly grey, but he was a grey-haired man. Allthe family had crown hair; the present Lord Ellingham is crown-haired. And Mr. Ashton had grey eyes--every Cave-Gray that I remember wasgrey-eyed. I should say that Mr. Ashton was just what I should haveexpected Lord Marketstoke to be at sixty. "

"I suppose Ashton never said or did anything here to reveal his secret, if he had one?" asked Mr. Pawle, after a moment's thoughtful pause. 

"Oh, nothing!" replied Mrs. Summers. "He occupied himself, as I tell you, while he was here, and finally he went away in the car in which he hadcome, saying that he had greatly enjoyed his stay, and that we should seehim again sometime. No--he never said anything about himself, that is. But he asked me several questions; I used to talk to him sometimes, of anevening, about the present Lord Ellingham. "

"What sort of questions?" inquired Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh--as to what sort of young man he was, and if he was a good landlordand so on, " replied Mrs. Summers. "And I purposely told him about thedisappearance of thirty-five years ago, just to see what he would sayabout it. "

"Ah! And what did he say?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"Nothing--except that it was extraordinary how people could disappear inthis world, " said Mrs. Summers. "Whether he was interested or not, hedidn't show it. "

"Probably felt that he knew more about it than you did, " chuckled the oldsolicitor. "Well, ma'am, we're much obliged to you. Now take my adviceand keep to your very excellent plan of saying nothing. Tomorrow morningwe will just have a look into certain things, and see if we can discoveranything really pertinent, and you shall know what conclusion we come to. Viner!" Pawle went on, when the old landlady had left them alone, "whatdo you think of this extraordinary story? Upon my word, I think it quitepossible that the old lady's theory might be right, and that Ashton mayreally have been the missing Lord Marketstoke!"

"You think it probable that a man who was heir to an English earldom andto considerable estates could disappear like that, for so many years, andthen reappear?" asked Viner. 

"I won't discuss the probability, " answered Mr. Pawle, "but that it'spossible I should steadily affirm. I've known several very extraordinarycases of disappearance. In this particular instance--granting things tobe as Mrs. Summers suggests--see how easy the whole thing is. This youngman disappears. He goes to a far-off colony under an assumed name. Nobody knows him. It is ten thousand to one against his being recognizedby visitors from home. All the advertising in the world will fail toreveal his identity. The only person who knows who he is is himself. Andif he refuses to speak--there you are!"

"What surprises me, " remarked Viner, "is that a man who evidently lived anew life for thirty-five years and prospered most successfully in it, should want to return to the old one. "

"Ah, but you never know!" said the old lawyer. "Family feeling, oldassociations, loss of the old place--eh? As men get older, their thoughtsturn fondly to the scenes and memories of their youth, Viner. If Ashtonwas really the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared, he may have come downhere with no other thought than that of just revisiting his old home forsentimental reasons. He may not have had the slightest intention, forinstance, of setting up a claim to the title and estates. "

"I don't understand much about the legal aspect of this, " said Viner, "but I've been wondering about it while you and the landlady talked. Supposing Ashton to be the long-lost Lord Marketstoke--could he haveestablished a claim such as you speak of?"

"To be sure!" answered Mr. Pawle. "Had he been able to prove that he wasthe real Simon pure, he would have stepped into title and estates atonce. Didn't the old lady say that the seventh Earl died intestate? Verywell--the holders since his time, that is to say, Charles, who, hisbrother's death being presumed, became eighth Earl, and his son, thepresent holder, would have had to account for everything since the dayof the seventh Earl's death. When the seventh Earl died, his elder son, Lord Marketstoke, _ipso facto_, stepped into his shoes, and if he were, or is, still alive, he's in them still. All he had to do, at any moment, after his father's death, no matter who had come into title and estates, was to step forward and say: 'Here I am!--now I want my rights!'"

"A queer business altogether!" commented Viner. "But whoever Ashtonwas, he's dead. And the thing that concerns me is this: if he reallywas Earl of Ellingham, do you think that fact's got anything to do withhis murder?"

"That's just what we want to find out, " answered Mr. Pawle eagerly. "It'squite conceivable that he may have been murdered by somebody who had aparticular interest in keeping him out of his rights. Such things havebeen known. I want to go into all that. But now here's another matter. IfAshton really was the missing Lord Marketstoke, who is this girl whom heput forward as his ward, to whom he's left his considerable fortune, andabout whom nobody knows anything? I've already told you there isn't asingle paper or document about her that I can discover. Was he really herguardian?"

"Has this anything to do with it?" asked Viner. "Does it come intothings?"

Mr. Pawle did not answer for a moment; he appeared to have struck a newvein of thought and to be exploring it deeply. 

"In certain events, it would come into it pretty strongly!" he mutteredat last. "I'll tell you why, later on. Now I'm for bed--and first thingafter breakfast, in the morning, Viner, we'll go to work. "

Viner had little idea of what the old solicitor meant as regards going towork; it seemed to him that for all practical purposes they were alreadyin a maze out of which there seemed no easy way. And he was not at allsure of what they were doing when, breakfast being over next morning, Mr. Pawle conducted him across the square to the old four-square churchyard, and for half an hour walked him up one path and down another and in andaround the ancient yew-trees and gravestones. 

"Do you know what I've been looking for, Viner?" asked Mr. Pawle atlast as he turned towards the church porch. "I was looking forsomething, you know. "

"Not the faintest notion!" answered Viner dismally. "I wondered!"

"I was looking, " replied Mr. Pawle with a faint chuckle, "to see if Icould find any tombstones or monuments in this churchyard bearing thename Ashton. There isn't one! I take it from that significant fact thatAshton didn't come down here to visit the graves of his kindred. But nowcome into the church--Mrs. Summers told me this morning that there's achapel here in which the Cave-Gray family have been interred for two orthree centuries. Let's have a look at it. "

Viner, who had a dilettante love of ancient architecture, was immediatelylost in admiration of the fine old structure into which he and hiscompanion presently stepped. He stood staring at the high rood, the fineold rood screen, the beauty of the clustered columns--had he been alone, and on any other occasion, he would have spent the morning in wanderingaround nave and aisles and transepts. But Mr. Pawle, severely practical, at once made for the northeast chapel; and Viner, after another glanceround, was forced to follow him. 

"The Ellingham Chapel!" whispered the old solicitor as they passed a fineold stone screen which Viner mentally registered as fifteenth-century. "No end of Cave-Grays laid here. What a profusion of monuments!"

Viner began to examine those monuments as well as the gloom of theNovember morning and the dark-painted glass of the windows would permit. And before very long he turned to his companion, who was laboriouslyreading the inscription on a great box-tomb which stood against thenorth wall. 

"I say!" he whispered. "Here's a curious fact which, in view of what weheard last night, may be of use to us. "

"What's that?" demanded Mr. Pawle. 

Viner took him by the elbow and led him over to the south wall, on whichwas arranged a number of ancient tablets, grouped around a greataltar-tomb whereon were set up the painted effigies of a gentleman, hiswife, and several sons and daughters, all in ruffs, kneeling one afterthe other, each growing less in size and stature, in the attitude ofprayer. He pointed to the inscription on this, and from it to several ofthe smaller monuments. 

"Look here!" he said. "There are Cave-Grays commemorated here from 1570until 1820. No end of 'em--men and women. And now, see--there's acertain Christian name--a woman's name--which occurs over and overagain. There it is--and there--and here--and here--and here again; it'sevidently been a favourite family name among the Cave-Gray women forthree hundred years at least. You see what it is? Avice!"

Mr. Pawle peered at the various places to which his companion'sfinger pointed. 

"Yes, " he answered, "I see it--several times, as you say. Avice! Yes?"

"Miss Wickham's Christian name is Avice, " said Viner. 

Mr. Pawle started. 

"God bless me!" he exclaimed. "So it is! I'd forgotten that. Dear me!Now, that's very odd--too odd, perhaps, to be a coincidence. Veryinteresting, indeed! Favourite family name without a doubt. "

Viner silently went round the chapel, inspecting every monument its fourwalls sheltered. 

"It occurs just nineteen times, " he announced at last. "Now, is it acoincidence that Miss Wickham's name should be Avice? Or is it thatthere's some connection between her and all these dead and gone Avices?"

"Very strange!" admitted Mr. Pawle. "Viner--we'll go next and have a lookat the parish registers. But look here! Not a word to parson or clerkabout our business! We merely wish to make search for a certain legalpurpose, eh?"

Three hours later Viner, heartily weary of turning over old registersfull of crabbed writing, was glad when Mr. Pawle closed the one onwhich he was engaged, intimated that he had seen all he wanted, paidthe fees for his search, and whispered to his companion that they wouldgo to lunch. 

"Well?" asked Viner as they walked across the square to the EllingtonArms. "Have we done anything?"

"Probably!" answered Mr. Pawle. "For you never know how these littlematters might help. We've established two facts, anyway. One--that therehave never been any folk of the name of Ashton in this town since theregisters came into being in 1567; the other, that the name Avice was avery favourite one indeed amongst the women of the Cave-Gray family. Andthere's just another little fact which I discovered, and said nothingabout while the vicar and clerk were about--it may be nothing, and it maybe something. "

"What is it?" asked Viner. 

"Well, " answered Mr. Pawle pausing a few yards away from the porch of thehotel, and speaking in a confidential voice, "it's this: In turning upthe records of the Cave-Gray family, as far as they are shown in theirparish registers, I found that Stephen John Cave-Gray, sixth Earl ofEllingham, married one Georgina Wickham. Now, is that anothercoincidence? There you get the two names in combination--Avice Wickham. That particular Countess of Ellingham would, of course, be thegrandmother of the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared. Did he think of hermaiden name, Wickham, when he wanted a new one for himself? Possibly! Andwhen he married, and had a daughter, did he think of the Christian nameso popular with his own womenfolk of previous generations, and call hisdaughter Avice? And are Marketstoke and Wickham and Ashton all one andthe same man?"

"Upon my word, it's a strange muddle!" exclaimed Viner. 

"Nothing as yet to what it will be, " remarked Mr. Pawle sententiously. "Come on--I'm famishing. Let's lunch--and then we'll go back to town. "

Another surprise awaited them when they walked into Mr. Pawle's office inBedford Row at four o'clock that afternoon. A card lay on the oldlawyer's blotting-pad, and after glancing at it, he passed it to Viner. 

"See that?" he said. "Now, who on earth is Mr. Armitstead AshtonArmitstead, of Rouendale House, Rawtenstall? Who left this?" he went on, as a clerk entered the room with some letters. 

"A gentleman who called at three o'clock, sir, " replied the clerk. "Hesaid he's travelled specially from Lancashire to see you about the Ashtonaffair. He's going to call again, sir. In fact, " concluded the clerk, glancing into the anteroom, "I think he's here now. "

"Bring him in, " commanded Mr. Pawle. He made a grimace at Viner as theclerk disappeared. "You see how things develop, " he murmured. "What arewe going to hear next?"

CHAPTER XI

WHAT HAPPENED IN PARIS

The man who presently walked in, a tall, grey-bearded, evidentlyprosperous person, dressed in the height of fashion, glanced keenly fromone to the other of the two men who awaited him. 

"Mr. Pawle?" he inquired as he dropped into the chair which the oldlawyer silently indicated at the side of his desk. "One of your partners, no doubt!" he added, looking again at Viner. 

"No sir, " replied Mr. Pawle. "This is Mr. Viner, who gave evidence in thecase you want to see me about. You can speak freely before him. What isit you have to say, Mr. Armitstead?"

"Not, perhaps, very much, but it may be of use, " answered the visitor. "The fact is that, like most folk, I read the accounts of this Ashtonmurder in the newspapers, and I gave particular attention to what wassaid by the man Hyde at the inquest the other day. It was what he said inregard to the man whom he alleges he saw leaving Lonsdale Passage thatmade me come specially to town to see you. I don't know, " he went on, glancing at the card which still lay on Mr. Pawle's blotting-pad, "if youknow my name at all? I'm a pretty well-known Lancashire manufacturer, andI was a member of Parliament for some years--for the Richdale Valleydivision. I didn't put up again at the last General Election. "

Mr. Pawle bowed. 

"Just so, Mr. Armitstead, " he answered. "And there's something you knowabout this case?"

"I know this, " replied Mr. Armitstead. "I met John Ashton in Paris someweeks ago. We were at the Hotel Bristol together. In fact, we met andintroduced ourselves to each other in an odd way. We arrived at the HotelBristol at the same time--he from Italy, I from London, and we registeredat the same moment. Now, I have a habit of always signing my name infull, Armitstead Ashton Armitstead. I signed first; he followed. Helooked at me and smiled. 'You've got one of my names, anyway, sir, ' heremarked. 'And I see you hail from where I hailed from, many a long yearago. ' 'Then you're a Lancashire man?' I said. 'I left Lancashire moreyears ago than I like to think of, ' he answered, with a laugh. And thenwe got talking, and he told me that he had emigrated to Australia when hewas young, and that he was going back to England for the first time. Wehad more talk during the two or three days that we were at the Bristoltogether, and we came to the conclusion that we were distantly related--along way back. But he told me that, as far as he was aware, he had noclose relations living, and when I suggested to him that he ought to godown to Lancashire and look up old scenes and old friends, he repliedthat he'd no intention of doing so--he must, he said, have beencompletely forgotten in his native place by this time. "

"Did he tell you what his native place was, Mr. Armitstead?" asked Mr. Pawle, who had given Viner two or three expressive glances during thevisitor's story. 

"Yes, " replied Mr. Armitstead. "He did--Blackburn. He left it as a veryyoung man. "

"Well, " said Mr. Pawle, "there's a considerable amount of interest inwhat you tell us, for Mr. Viner and myself have been making certaininquiries during the last twenty-four hours, and we formed, or nearlyformed, a theory which your information upsets. Ashtons of Blackburn? Wemust go into that. For we particularly want to know who Mr. John Ashtonwas--there's a great deal depending on it. Did he tell you more?"

"About himself, no, " replied the visitor, "except that he'd beenexceedingly fortunate in Australia, and had made a good deal of money andwas going to settle down here in London. He took my address and said he'dwrite and ask me to dine with him as soon as he got a house to hisliking, and he did write, only last week, inviting me to call next time Iwas in town. Then I saw the accounts of his murder in the papers--a verysad thing!"

"A very mysterious thing!" remarked Mr. Pawle. "I wish we could get somelight on it!"

The visitor looked from one man to the other and lowered his voice alittle. 

"It's possible I can give you a little, " he said. "That, indeed, is thereal reason why I set off to see you this morning. You will rememberthat Hyde, the man who is charged with the murder, said before theCoroner that as he turned into Lonsdale Passage, he saw coming out ofit a tall man in black clothes who was swathed to the very eyes in a bigwhite muffler?"

"Yes!" said Mr. Pawle. "Well?"

"I saw such a man with Ashton in Paris, " answered Mr. Armitstead. "Hyde'sdescription exactly tallies with what I myself should have said. "

Mr. Pawle looked at his visitor with still more interest and attention. 

"Now, that really is of importance!" he exclaimed. "If Hyde saw such aman--as I believe he did--and you saw such a man, then that man mustexist, and the facts that you saw him with Ashton, and that Hyde saw himin close proximity to the place where Ashton was murdered, are of thehighest consequence. But--you can tell us more, Mr. Armitstead?"

"Unfortunately, very little, " replied the visitor. "What I saw was on thenight before I left Paris--after it I never saw Ashton again to speak to. It was late at night. Do you know the Rue Royale? There is at the end ofit a well-known restaurant, close to the Place de la Concorde--I wassitting outside this about a quarter to eleven when I saw Ashton and theman I am speaking of pass along the pavement in the direction of theMadeleine. What made me particularly notice the man was the fact thatalthough it was an unusually warm night, he was closely muffled in a bigwhite silk handkerchief. It was swathed about his throat, his chin, hismouth; it reached, in fact, right up to his eyes. An odd thing, on such awarm night--Ashton, who was in evening dress, had his light overcoatthrown well back. He was talking very volubly as they passed me--theother man was listening with evident attention. "

"Would you know the man if you saw him again?" asked Viner. 

"I should most certainly know him if I saw him dressed and muffled in thesame way, " asserted Mr. Armitstead. "And I believe I could recognize himfrom his eyes--which, indeed, were all that I could really see of him. Hewas so muffled, I tell you, that it was impossible to see if he was aclean-shaven man or a bearded man. But I did see his eyes, for he turnedthem for an instant full on the light of the restaurant. They wereunusually dark, full and brilliant--his glance would best be described asflashing. And I should say, from my impression at the time, and from whatI remember of his dress, that he was a foreigner--probably an Italian. "

"You didn't see this man at your hotel?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No--I never saw him except on this one occasion, " replied Mr. Armitstead. "And I did not see Ashton after that. I left Paris very earlythe next morning, for Rouen, where I had some business. You think thismatter of the man in the muffler important?"

"Now that you've told us what you have, Mr. Armitstead, I think it's ofthe utmost importance and consequence--to Hyde, " answered Mr. Pawle. "Youmust see his solicitor--he's Mr. Viner's solicitor too--and offer to giveevidence when Hyde's brought up again; it will be of the greatest help. There's no doubt, to me, at any rate, that the man Hyde saw leaving thescene of the murder is the man you saw with Ashton in Paris. But now, whois he? Ashton, as we happen to know, left his ship at Naples, andtravelled to England through Italy and France. Is this man some fellowthat he picked up on the way? His general appearance, now--how did thatstrike you?"

"He was certainly a man of great distinction of manner, " declared Mr. Armitstead. "He had the air and bearing of--well, of a personage. Ishould say he was somebody--you know what I mean--a man of superiorposition, and so on. "

"Viner, " exclaimed Mr. Pawle, "that man must be found! There must bepeople in London who saw him that night. People can't disappear likethat. We'll set to work on that track--find him we must! Now, all theevidence goes to show that he and Ashton were in company thatnight--probably they'd been dining together, and he was accompanyingAshton to his house. How is it that no one at all has come forward to saythat Ashton was seen with this man? It's really extraordinary!"

Mr. Armitstead shook his head. 

"There's one thing you're forgetting, aren't you?" he said. "Ashton andthis man mayn't have been in each other's company many minutes when themurder took place. Ashton may have been trapped. I don't know muchabout criminal affairs, but in reading the accounts of the proceedingsbefore the magistrate and the coroner, an idea struck me which, so faras I could gather from the newspapers, doesn't seem to have struck anyone else. "

"What's that?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "All ideas are welcome. "

"Well, this, " replied Mr. Armitstead: "In one of the London newspapersthere was a plan, a rough sketchmap of the passage in which the murdertook place. I gathered from it that on each side of that passage thereare yards or gardens, at the backs of houses--the houses on one sidebelong to some terrace; on the other to the square--Markendale Square--inwhich Ashton lived. Now, may it not be that the murder itself wasactually committed in one of those houses, and that the body was carriedout through a yard or garden to where it was found?"

"Ashton was a big and heavy man, " observed Viner. "No one man could havecarried him. "

"Just so!" agreed Mr. Armitstead. "But don't you think there's aprobability that more than one man was engaged in this affair! The man inthe muffler, hurrying away, may have only been one of several. "

"Aye!" said Mr. Pawle, with a deep sigh. "There's something in all that. It may be as you say--a conspiracy. If we only knew the real object ofthe crime! But it appears to be becoming increasingly difficult to findit. . . . What is it?" he asked, as his clerk came into the room with acard. "I'm engaged. "

The clerk came on, however, laid the card before his employer, andwhispered a few words to him. 

"A moment, then--I'll ring, " said Mr. Pawle. He turned to his twocompanions as the clerk retired and closed the door, and smiled as heheld up the card. "Here's another man who wants to tell me somethingabout the Ashton case!" he exclaimed. 

"It's been quite a stroke of luck having that paragraph in thenewspapers, asking for information from anybody who could give it!"

"What's this?" asked Viner. 

"Mr. Jan Van Hoeren, Diamond Merchant, " read Mr. Pawle from the card, "583 Hatton Garden--"

"Ah!" Mr. Armitstead exclaimed. "Diamonds!"

"I shouldn't wonder if you're right, " remarked Mr. Pawle. "Diamonds, Ibelieve, are to Hatton Garden what cabbages and carrots are to Covent. "He touched his bell, and the clerk appeared. "Bring Mr. Van Hoeren thisway, " he said. 

There entered, hat in hand, bowing all round, a little fat, beady-eyedman, whose beard was blue-black and glossy, whose lips were red, whosenose was his most decided feature. His hat was new and shining, his blackovercoat of superfine cloth was ornamented with a collar of undoubtedsable; he carried a gold-mounted umbrella. But there was one thing on himthat put all the rest of his finery in the shade. In the folds of hisartistically-arranged black satin stock lay a pearl--such a pearl as fewfolk ever have the privilege of seeing. It was as big as a moderatelysized hazel nut, and the three men who looked at it knew that it wassomething wonderful. 

"Take a chair, Mr. Van Hoeren, " said Mr. Pawle genially. "You want totell me something about this Ashton case? Very much obliged to you, I'msure. These gentlemen are both interested--considerably--in that case, and if you can give me any information that will throw any light on it--"

Mr. Van Hoeren deposited his plump figure in a convenient chair andlooked round the circle of faces. 

"One thing there is I don't see in them newspapers, Mr. Pawle, " he saidin strongly nasal accents. "Maybe nobody don't know nothings about it, what? So I come to tell you what I know, see? Something!"

"Very good of you, I'm sure, " replied Mr. Pawle. "What may it be?"

Mr. Van Hoeren made a significant grimace; it seemed to imply that therewas a great deal to be told. 

"Some of us, my way, we know Mr. Ashton, " he said. "In Hatton Garden, youunderstand. Dealers in diamonds, see? Me, and Haas, and Aarons, and oneor two more. Business!"

"You've done business with Mr. Ashton?" asked the old lawyer. "Just so!"

"No--done nothing, " replied Mr. Van Hoeren. "Not a shilling's worth. Butwe know him. He came down there. And we don't see nothing in them papersthat we expected to see, and today two or three of us, we lunch together, and Haas, he says: 'Them lawyer men, ' he says, 'they want information. You go and give it to 'em. So!"

"Well--what is it?" demanded Mr. Pawle. 

Mr. Van Hoeren leaned forward and looked from one face to another. 

"Ashton, " he said, "was carrying a big diamond about--in his pocketbook!"

Mr. Armitstead let a slight exclamation escape his lips. Viner glanced atMr. Pawle. And Mr. Pawle fastened his eyes on his latest caller. 

"Mr. Ashton was carrying a big diamond about in his pocketbook?" he said. "Ah--have you seen it?"

"Several times I see it, " replied Mr. Van Hoeren. "My trade, don't it?Others of us--we see it too. "

"He wanted to sell it?" suggested Mr. Pawle. 

"There ain't so many people could afford to buy it, " said Mr. Van Hoeren. 

"Why!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "Was it so valuable, then?"

The diamond merchant shrugged his shoulders and waved the gold-mountedumbrella which he was carefully nursing in his tightly-gloved hands. 

"Oh, well!" he answered. "Fifty or sixty thousand pounds it wasworth--yes!"

CHAPTER XII

THE GREY MARE INN

The three men who heard this announcement were conscious that at thispoint the Ashton case entered upon an entirely new phase. Armitstead'smind was swept clean away from the episode in Paris, Viner's from therevelations at Marketstoke, Mr. Pawle suddenly realized that here, atlast, was something material and tangible which opened out all sorts ofpossibilities. And he voiced the thoughts of his two companions as heturned in amazement on the fat little man who sat complacently nursinghis umbrella. 

"What!" he exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that Ashton was walking aboutLondon with a diamond worth fifty thousand pounds in his pocket?Incredible!"

"Don't see nothing so very incredible about it, " retorted Mr. Van Hoeren. "I could show you men what carries diamonds worth twice that much intheir pockets about the Garden. "

"That's business, " said Mr. Pawle. "I've heard of such things--but youall know each other over there, I'm told. Ashton wasn't a diamondmerchant. God bless me--he was probably murdered for that stone!"

"That's just what I come to you about, eh?" suggested Mr. Van Hoeren. "You see 'tain't nothing if he show that diamond to me, and such as me;we don't think nothing of that--all in our way of business. But if hegets showing it to other people, in public places--what?"

"Just so!" asserted Mr. Pawle. "Sheer tempting of Providence! I'm amazed!But--how did you get to know Mr. Ashton and to hear of this diamond? Didhe come to you?"

"Called on me at my office, " answered Mr. Van Hoeren laconically. "Pulledout the diamond and asked me what I thought it was worth. Well, Iintroduce him to some of the other boys in the Garden, see? He show themthe diamond too. We reckon it's worth what I say--fifty to sixtythousand. So!"

"Did he want to sell it?" demanded Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh, well, yes--he wouldn't have minded, " replied the diamond merchant. "Wasn't particular about it, you know--rich man. "

"Did he tell you anything about it--how he got it, and so on?" asked Mr. Pawle. "Was there any history attached to it?"

"Oh, nothing much, " answered Mr. Van Hoeren. "He told me he'd had it someyears--got it in Australia, where he come from to London. Got it cheap, he did--lots of things like that in our business. "

"And carried it in his pocket!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. He stared hard atMr. Van Hoeren, as if his mind was revolving some unpleasant idea. "Isuppose all the people you introduced him to are--all right?" he asked. 

"Oh, they're all right!" affirmed Mr. Van Hoeren, with a laugh. "Give myword for any of 'em, eh? But Ashton--if he pulls that diamond out toshow to anybody--out of the trade, you understand--well, then, there'slots of fellows in this town would settle him to get hold of it--what?"

"I think you're right, " said Mr. Pawle. He glanced at Viner. "This puts anew complexion on affairs, " he remarked. "We shall have to let the policeknow of this. I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Van Hoeren. You won't mindgiving evidence about this if it's necessary?"

"Don't mind nothing, " said Mr. Van Hoeren. "Me and the other boys, wethink you ought to know about that diamond, see?"

He went away, and Mr. Pawle turned to Viner and Armitstead. 

"I shouldn't wonder if we're getting at something like a real clue, " hesaid. "It seems evident that Ashton was not very particular about showinghis diamond to people! If he'd show it--readily--to a lot of HattonGarden diamond merchants, who, after all, were strangers to him, how dowe know that he wouldn't show it to other men? The fact is, wealthy menlike that are often very careless about their possessions. Possibly adiamond worth fifty or sixty thousand pounds wasn't of so much importancein Ashton's eyes as it would have been in--well, in mine. And how do weknow that he didn't show the diamond to the man with the muffler, inParis, and that the fellow followed him here and murdered him for it?"

"Possible!" said Armitstead. 

"Doesn't it strike you as strange, though, " suggested Viner, "that thefirst news of this diamond comes from Van Hoeren? One would have thoughtthat Ashton would have mentioned it--and shown it--to Miss Wickham andMrs. Killenhall. Yet apparently--he never did. "

"Yes, that does seem odd, " asserted Mr. Pawle. "But there seems to be noend of oddity in this case. And there's one thing that must be done atonce: we must have a full and thorough search and examination of allAshton's effects. His house must be thoroughly searched for papers and soon. Viner, I suppose you're going home? Do me the favour to call at MissWickham's, and tell her that I propose to come there at ten o'clocktomorrow morning, to go through Ashton's desk and his various belongingswith her--surely there must be something discoverable that will throwmore light on the matter. And in the meantime, Viner, don't say anythingto her about our journey to Marketstoke--leave that for a while. "

Viner went away from Crawle, Pawle, and Rattenbury's in companywith Armitstead. Outside, the Lancashire business man gave him ashrewd glance. 

"I very much doubt if that diamond has anything whatever to do withAshton's murder, " he said. "From what I saw of him, he seemed to me tobe a very practical man, full of business aptitude and common sense, andI don't believe that he'd make a practice of walking about London with adiamond of that value in his pocket. It's all very well that he shouldhave it in his pocket when he went down to Hatton Garden--he had apurpose. But that he should always carry it--no, I don't credit that, Mr. Viner. "

"I can scarcely credit such a foolish thing myself, " said Viner. "But--where is the diamond?"

"Perhaps you'll find it tomorrow, " suggested Armitstead. "The man wouldbe sure to have some place in his house where he kept his valuables. Ishall be curious to hear. "

"Are you staying in town?" inquired Viner. 

"I shall be at the Hotel Cecil for a fortnight at least, " answeredArmitstead. "And if I can be of any use to you or Mr. Pawle, you've onlyto ring me up there. You've no doubt yourself, I think, that theunfortunate fellow Hyde is innocent?"

"None!" said Viner. "No doubt whatever! But--the police have a strongcase against him. And unless we can find the actual murderer, I'm afraidHyde's in a very dangerous position. "

"Well, " said Armitstead, "in these cases, you never know what a suddenand unexpected turn of events may do. That man with the muffler is thechap you want to get hold of--I'm sure of that!"

Viner went home and dined with his aunt and their two guests, Hyde'ssisters, whom he endeavoured to cheer up by saying that things weredeveloping as favourably as could be expected, and that he hoped tohave good news for them ere long. They were simple souls, patheticallygrateful for any scrap of sympathy and comfort, and he strove toappear more confident about the chances of clearing this unluckybrother than he really felt. It was his intention to go round toNumber Seven during the evening, to deliver Mr. Pawle's message toMiss Wickham, but before he rose from his own table, a message arrivedby Miss Wickham's parlour-maid--would Mr. Viner be kind enough tocome to the house at once?

At this, Viner excused himself to his guests and hurried round to NumberSeven, to find Miss Wickham and Mrs. Killenhall, now in mourninggarments, in company with a little man whom Viner at once recognized as awell-known tradesman of Westbourne Grove--a florist and fruiterer namedBarleyfield, who was patronized by all the well-to-do folk of theneighbourhood. He smiled and bowed as Viner entered the room, and turnedto Miss Wickham as if suggesting that she should explain his presence. 

"Oh, Mr. Viner!" said Miss Wickham, "I'm so sorry to send for you sohurriedly, but Mr. Barleyfield came to tell us that he could give someinformation about Mr. Ashton, and as Mr. Pawle isn't available, and Idon't like to send for a police-inspector, I thought that you, perhaps--"

"To be sure!" said Viner. "What is it, Mr. Barleyfield?"

Mr. Barleyfield, who had obviously attired himself in his Sunday raimentfor the purposes of his call, and had further shown respect for theoccasion by wearing a black cravat, smiled as he looked from the twoladies to Viner. 

"Well, Mr. Viner, " he answered, "I'll tell you what it is--it may help abit in clearing up things, for I understand there's a great deal ofmystery about Mr. Ashton's death. Now, I'm told, sir, thatnobody--especially these good ladies--knows nothing about what thedeceased gentleman used to do with himself of an evening--as a rule. Justso. Well, you know, Mr. Viner, a tradesman like myself generally knows agood deal about the people of his neighbourhood. I knew Mr. Ashton verywell indeed--he was a good customer of mine, and sometimes he'd stop andhave a bit of chat with me. And I can tell you where he very often spentan hour or two of an evening. "

"Yes--where?" asked Viner. 

"At the Grey Mare Inn, sir, " answered Barleyfield promptly. "I have oftenseen him there myself. "

"The Grey Mare Inn!" exclaimed Viner, while Mrs. Killenhall and MissWickham looked at each other wonderingly. "Where is that? It sounds likethe name of some village tavern. "

"Ah, but you don't know this part of London as I do, sir!" saidBarleyfield, with a knowing smile. "If you did, you'd know the Grey Marewell enough--it's an institution. It's a real old-fashioned place, between Westbourne Grove and Notting Hill--one of the very last of theold taverns, with a tea-garden behind it, and a bar-parlour of a verycomfortable sort, where various old fogies of the neighbourhood gather ofan evening and smoke churchwarden pipes and tell tales of the oldendays--I rather gathered from what I saw that it was the old atmospherethat attracted Mr. Ashton--made him think of bygone England, you know, Mr. Viner. "

"And you say he went there regularly?" asked Viner. 

"I've seen him there a great deal, sir, for I usually turn in there forhalf an hour or so, myself, of an evening, when business is over and I'vehad my supper, " answered Barleyfield. "I should say that he went therefour or five nights a week. "

"And no doubt conversed with the people he met there?" suggested Viner. 

"He was a friendly, sociable man, sir, " said Barleyfield. "Yes, he wasfond of a talk. But there was one man there that he seemed toassociate with--an elderly, superior gentleman whose name I don'tknow, though I'm familiar enough with his appearance. Him and Mr. Ashton I've often seen sitting in a particular corner, smoking theircigars, and talking together. And--if it's of any importance--I sawthem talking like that, at the Grey Mare, the very evening that--thatMr. Ashton died, Mr. Viner. "

"What time was that?" asked Viner. 

"About the usual time, sir--nine-thirty or so, " replied Barleyfield. "Igenerally look in about that time--nine-thirty to ten. "

"Did you leave them talking there?" inquired Viner. 

"They were there when I left, sir, at a quarter past ten, " answeredBarleyfield. "Talking in their usual corner. "

"And you say you don't know who this man is?"

"I don't! I know him by sight--but he's a comparatively recent comer tothe Grey Mare. I've noticed him for a year or so--not longer. "

Viner glanced at the two ladies. 

"I suppose you never heard Mr. Ashton mention the Grey Mare?" he asked. 

"We never heard Mr. Ashton say anything about his movements, " answeredMiss Wickham. "We used to wonder, sometimes, if he'd joined a club or ifhe had friends that we knew nothing about. "

"Well, " said Viner, turning to the florist, "do you think you could takeme to the Grey Mare, Mr. Barleyfield?"

"Nothing easier, sir--open to one and all!"

"Then, if you've the time to spare, we'll go now, " said Viner. He lingeredbehind a moment to tell Miss Wickham of Mr. Pawle's appointment for themorning, and then went away with Barleyfield in the Notting Hilldirection. "I suppose you've been at the Grey Mare since Mr. Ashton'sdeath?" he asked as they walked along. 

"Once or twice, sir, " replied Barleyfield. 

"And you've no doubt heard the murder discussed?" suggested Viner. 

"I've heard it discussed hard enough, sir, there and elsewhere, " repliedthe florist. "But at the Gray Mare itself, I don't think anybody knewthat this man who'd been murdered was the same as the grey-beardedgentleman who used to drop in there sometimes. They didn't when I waslast in, anyway. Perhaps this gentleman I've mentioned to you mightknow--Mr. Ashton might have told his name to him. But you know how it isin these places, Mr. Viner--people drop in, even regularly, andfellow-customers may have a bit of talk with them without having theleast idea who they are. Between you and me, sir, I came to theconclusion that Mr. Ashton was a man who liked to see a bit of what we'llcall informal, old-fashioned tavern life, and he hit on this place byaccident, in one of his walks round, and took to coming where he could beat his ease--amongst strangers. "

"No doubt, " agreed Viner. 

He followed his guide through various squares and streets until they cameto the object of their pilgrimage--a four-square, old-fashioned house setback a little from the road, with a swinging sign in front, and a gardenat the side. Barleyfield led him through this garden to a side-door, whence they passed into a roomy, low-ceilinged parlour which remindedViner of old coaching prints--he would scarcely have believed it possiblethat such a pre-Victorian room could be found in London. There wereseveral men in it, and he nudged his companion's elbow. 

"Let us sit down in a quiet corner and have something to drink, " he said. "I just want to take a look at this place--and its frequenters. "

Barleyfield led him to a nook near the chimney-corner and beckoned toan aproned boy who hung about with a tray under his arm. But beforeViner could give an order, his companion touched his arm and motionedtowards the door. 

"Here's the gentleman Mr. Ashton used to talk to!" he whispered. "Thetall man--just coming in. "

CHAPTER XIII

THE JAPANESE CABINET

Remembering that Barleyfield had said that the man who now entered hadbeen in Ashton's company in that very room on the evening of the murder, Viner looked at him with keen interest and speculation. He was a tall, well-built, clean-shaven man, of professional appearance and of a large, heavy, solemn face the evidently usual pallor of which was deepened byhis black overcoat and cravat. An eminently respectable, slow-going, unimaginative man, in Viner's opinion, and of a type which one may see bythe dozen in the precincts of the Temple; a man who would be content todo a day's work in a placid fashion, and who cherished no ambition to setthe Thames on fire; certainly, so Viner thought from appearances, not theman to commit a peculiarly daring murder. Nevertheless, knowing what hedid, he watched him closely. 

The newcomer, on entering, glanced at once at a quiet corner of the room, and seeing it unoccupied, turned to the bar, where the landlord, who wasas old-fashioned as his surroundings, was glancing over the eveningpaper. He asked for whisky and soda, and when he took up the glass, drankslowly and thoughtfully. Suddenly he turned to the landlord. 

"Have you seen that gentleman lately that I've sometimes talked to inthe corner there?" he asked. 

The landlord glanced across the room and shook his head. 

"Can't say that I have, sir, " he answered. "The tallish gentleman with agrey beard? No, he hasn't been in this last night or two. "

The other man sat down his glass and drew something from his pocket. 

"I promised to bring him a specimen of some cigars I bought lately, " hesaid, laying an envelope on the counter. "I can't stop tonight. If heshould come in, will you give him that--he'll know what it is. "

"Good heavens!" muttered Viner, as he turned in surprise to Barleyfield. "These men evidently don't know that the man they're talking about is--"

"Murdered!" whispered Barleyfield, with a grim smile. "Nothing wonderfulin that, Mr. Viner. They haven't connected Mr. Ashton with the manthey're mentioning--that's all. "

"And yet Ashton's portrait has been in the papers!" exclaimed Viner. "Itamazes me!"

"Aye, just so, sir, " said Barleyfield. "But--a hundred yards in Londontakes you into another world, Mr. Viner. For all practical purposes, Lonsdale Passage, though it's only a mile away, is as much separatedfrom this spot as New York is from London. Well--that's the man I toldyou of, sir. "

The man in question drank off the remaining contents of his glass, noddedto the landlord, and walked out. And Viner was suddenly minded to dosomething towards getting information. 

"Look here!" he said. "I'm going to ask that landlord a question or two. Come with me. "

He went up to the bar, Barleyfield following in close attendance, andgave the landlord a significant glance. 

"Can I have a word with you, in private?" he asked. 

The landlord looked his questioner over and promptly opened a flap inthe counter. 

"Step inside, sir, " he said, indicating a door in the rear. "Private roomthere, sir. "

Viner and Barleyfield walked into a little snugly furnished sitting-room;the landlord followed and closed the door. 

"Do you happen to know the name of the gentleman who was speaking to youjust now?" asked Viner, going straight to his point. "I've a veryparticular reason for wishing to know it. "

"No more idea than I have of yours, sir, " replied the landlord with ashrewd glance. 

Viner pulled out a card and laid it on the table. 

"That is my name, " he said. "You and the gentleman who has just gone outwere speaking just now of another gentleman whom he used to meethere--who used to sit with him in that far corner. Just so--you don'tknow the name of that gentleman, either?"

"No more than I know the others', sir, " replied the landlord, shakinghis head. "Lord bless you, folks may come in here for a year or two, andunless they happen to be neighbours of mine, I don't know who they are. Now, there's your friend there, " he went on, indicating Barleyfield witha smile, "I know his face as that of a customer, but I don't know who heis! That gentleman who's just gone out, he's been in the habit ofdropping in here for a twelvemonth, maybe, but I never remember hearinghis name. As for the gentleman he referred to, why, I know him as onethat's come in here pretty regular for the last few weeks, but I don'tknow his name, either. "

"Have you heard of the murder in Lonsdale Passage?" asked Viner. 

"Markendale Square way? Yes, " answered the landlord, with awakeninginterest. "Why, is it anything to do--"

Viner saw an illustrated paper lying on a side-table and caught itup. There was a portrait of Ashton in it, and he held it up beforethe landlord. 

"Don't you recognize that?" he asked. 

The landlord started and stared. 

"Bless my life and soul!" he exclaimed. "Why, surely that's very like thegentleman I just referred to--I should say it was the very man!"

"It is the very man!" said Viner with emphasis, "the man for whom yourcustomer who's just gone out left the envelope. Now, this man who wasmurdered in Lonsdale Passage was here in your parlour for some time onthe evening of the night on which he was murdered, and he was then inconversation with the man who has just gone out. Naturally, therefore, Ishould like to know that man's name. "

"You're not a detective?" suggested the landlord. 

"Not at all!" replied Viner. "I was a neighbour of Mr. Ashton's, and I aminterested--deeply interested--in an attempt to clear up the mystery ofhis death. Things keep coming out. I didn't know until this evening thatAshton spent some time here, at your house, the night he was killed. Butwhen I got to know, I came along to make one or two inquiries. "

"Bless me!" said the landlord, who was still staring at the portrait. "Yes, that's the gentleman, sure enough! I've often wondered who hewas--pleasant, sociable sort, he was, poor fellow. Now I come to think ofit I remember him being in here that night--last time, of course, he wasever in. He was talking to that gentleman who's just gone; in fact, theyleft together. "

"They left together, did they!" exclaimed Viner with a sharp glance atBarleyfield. "Ah! What time was that, now?"

"As near as I can recollect, about ten-fifteen to ten-thirty, " answeredthe landlord. "They'd been talking together for a good hour in thatcorner where they usually sat. But dear me, " he went on, looking from oneto the other of his two visitors, "I'm quite sure that gentleman who'sjust left doesn't know of this murder! Why, you heard him ask for theother gentleman, and leave him some cigars that he'd promised!"

"Just so--which makes it all the stranger, " said Viner. "Well, I'm muchobliged to you, landlord--and for the time being, just keep the matterof this talk strictly to yourself. You understand?"

"As you wish, sir, " assented the landlord. "I shan't say anything. Youwouldn't like me to find out this gentleman's name? Somebody'll know him. My own idea is that he lives in this part--he began coming in here of anevening about a year since. "

"No--do nothing at present, " said Viner. "The inquiries are onlybeginning. "

He impressed the same obligation of silence on Barleyfield as they wentaway, and the florist readily understood. 

"No hard work for me to hold my tongue, Mr. Viner, " he said. "Wetradespeople are pretty well trained to that, sir! There's things andsecrets I could tell! But upon my word, I don't ever remember quite sucha case as this. And I expect it'll be like most cases of the sort!"

"What do you mean?" asked Viner. 

"Oh, there'll be a sudden flash of light on it, sir, all of a sudden, "replied Barleyfield. "And then--it'll be as clear as noonday. "

"I don't know where it's coming from!" muttered Viner. "I don't even seea rift in the clouds yet. "

He had been at work for an hour or two with Miss Wickham and Mr. Pawlenext morning, searching for whatever might be discovered among Ashton'seffects, before he saw any reason to alter this opinion. The bunch ofkeys discovered in the murdered man's pocket had been duly delivered toMiss Wickham by the police, and she handed them over to the old solicitorwith full license to open whatever they secured. But both Mr. Pawle andViner saw at once that Ashton had been one of those men who have no habitof locking up things. In all that roomy house he had but one room whichhe kept to himself--a small, twelve-foot-square apartment on the groundfloor, in which, they said, he used to spend an hour or two of amorning. It contained little in the way of ornament or comfort--a solidwriting-desk with a hard chair, an easy-chair by the fireplace, a sofaagainst the wall, a map of London and a picture or two, a shelf of oldbooks, a collection of walking-sticks, and umbrellas: these made up allthere was to see. 

And upon examination the desk yielded next to nothing. One drawercontained a cash-box, a checkbook, a pass-book. Some sixty or seventypounds in notes, gold and silver lay in the cash-box; the stubs ofthe checks revealed nothing but the payment of tradesmen's bills; thepass-book showed that an enormous balance lay at the bank. In anotherdrawer rested a collection of tradesmen's books--Mr. Ashton, saidMrs. Killenhall, used to pay his tradesmen every week; these bookshad been handed to him on the very evening of his death forsettlement next morning. 

"Evidently a most methodical man!" remarked Mr. Pawle. "Which makes itall the more remarkable that so few papers are discoverable. You'd havethought that in his longish life he'd have accumulated a good manydocuments that he wanted to keep. "

But documents there were next to none. Several of the drawers of the deskwere empty, save for stationery. One contained a bunch of letters, tiedup with blue ribbon--these, on examination, proved to be letters writtenby Miss Wickham, at school in England, to her guardian in Australia. MissWickham, present while Mr. Pawle and Viner searched, showed some emotionat the sight of them. 

"I used to write to him once a month, " she said. "I had no idea that hehad kept the letters, though!"

The two men went silently on with their search. But there was no furtherresult. Ashton did not appear to have kept any letters or papers relativeto his life or doings prior to his coming to England. Private documentsof any sort he seemed to have none. And whatever business had taken himto Marketstoke, they could find no written reference to it; nor couldthey discover anything about the diamond of which Mr. Van Hoeren hadspoken. They went upstairs to his bedroom and examined the drawers, cabinets and dressing-case--they found nothing. 

"This is distinctly disappointing, " remarked Mr. Pawle when he and Vinerreturned to the little room. "I never knew a man who left such smallevidence behind him. It's quite evident to me that there's nothingwhatever in this house that's going to be of any use to us. I wonder ifhe rented a box at any of the safe-deposit places? He must have haddocuments of some sort. "

"In that case, we should surely have found a key, and perhaps a receiptfor the rent of the box, " suggested Viner. "I should have thought he'dhave had a safe in his own house, " he added, "but we don't hear of one. "

Mr. Pawle looked round the room, as if suspicious that Ashton might havehidden papers in the stuffing of the sofa or the easy-chair. 

"I wonder if there's anything in that, " he said suddenly. "It looks likea receptacle of some sort. "

Viner turned and saw the old lawyer pointing to a curious Japanesecabinet which stood in the middle of the marble mantelpiece--the onlyreally notable ornament in the room. Mr. Pawle laid hold of it anduttered a surprised exclamation. "That's a tremendous weight for so smalla thing!" he said. "Feel it!"

Viner took hold of the cabinet--an affair of some eighteen inches inheight and twelve in depth--and came to the conclusion that it washeavily weighted with lead. He lifted it down to the desk, giving it aslight shake. 

"I took it for a cigar cabinet, " he remarked. "How does it open? Have youa key that will fit it?"

But upon examination there was no keyhole, and nothing to show how thedoor was opened. 

"I see what this is, " said Viner, after looking closely over the cabinet, back, front and sides. "It opens by a trick--a secret. Probably you presssomething somewhere and the door flies open. But--where?"

"Try, " counselled Mr. Pawle. "There's something inside--I heard it whenyou shook the thing. "

It took Viner ten minutes to find out the secret. He would not have foundit at all but for accident. But pressing here and pulling there, hesuddenly touched what appeared to be no more than a cleverly insertedrivet in the ebony surface; there was a sharp click, and the panelledfront flew open. 

"There is something!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "Papers!"

He drew out a bundle of papers, folded in a strong sheet ofcartridge-paper and sealed back and front. The enveloping coverwas old and faded; the ribbon which had been tied round thebundle was discoloured by age; the wax of the seals was crackedall over the surface. 

"No inscription, no writing, " said Mr. Pawle. "Now, I wonderwhat's in here?"

"Shall I fetch Miss Wickham?" suggested Viner. Mr. Pawle hesitated. 

"No!" he said at last. "I think not. Let us first find out what thispacket contains. I'll take the responsibility. "

He cut the ribbons beneath the seals, and presently revealed a number ofletters, old and yellow, in a woman's handwriting. And after a hastyglance at one or two of the uppermost, he turned to Viner with anexclamation that signified much. 

"Viner!" he said, "here is indeed a find! These are letters written bythe Countess of Ellingham to her son, Lord Marketstoke, when he was aschoolboy at Eton!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE ELLINGHAM MOTTO

Viner looked over Mr. Pawle's shoulder at the letters--there were numbersof them, all neatly folded and arranged; a faint scent of dried flowersrose from them as the old lawyer spread them out on the desk. 

"Which Countess of Ellingham, and which Lord Marketstoke?" asked Viner. "There have been--must have been--several during the last century. "

"The Lord Marketstoke I mean is the one who disappeared, " answered Mr. Pawle. "We've no concern with any other. Look at these dates! We knowthat if he were living, he would now be a man of sixty-one or so;therefore, he'd be at school about forty-five years ago. Now, look here, "he went on, rapidly turning the letters over. "Compare these dates--theyrun through two or three years; they were all of forty-three to forty-sixyears since. You see how they're signed--you see how they're addressed?There's no doubt about it, Viner--this is a collection of letters writtenby the seventh Countess of Ellingham to her elder son, Lord Marketstoke, when he was at Eton. "

"How came they into Ashton's possession, I wonder!" asked Viner. 

"It's all of a piece!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "All of a piece withAshton's visit to Marketstoke--all of a piece with the facts that Avicewas a favourite name with the Cave-Gray family, and that one of theholders of the title married a Wickham. Viner, there's no doubtwhatever--in my mind--that either Ashton was Lord Marketstoke or that heknew the man who was!"

"You remember what Armitstead told us, " remarked Viner. "That Ashton toldhim, in Paris, that he, Ashton, hailed from Lancashire?"

"Then--he knew the missing man, and got these papers from him!" declaredthe old lawyer. "But why? Ah!--now I have an idea! It may be thatMarketstoke, dying out there in Australia, handed these things to Ashtonand asked him to give them to some members of the Cave-Grayfamily--perhaps an aunt, or a cousin, or so on--and that Ashton went downto Marketstoke to find out what relations were still in existence. Thatmay be it--that would solve the problem!"

"No!" said Viner was sudden emphasis. He made sure that the door of thelittle room was closed, and then went up to the old lawyer's elbow. "Isthat really all you can think of?" he asked, with a keen glance. "As forme--why, I'm thinking of something that seems absolutely--obvious!"

"What, then?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "Tell me!"

Viner pointed towards the door. 

"Haven't we heard already, that a man named Wickham handed over hisdaughter Avice to Ashton's care and guardianship?" he asked. "Doesn'tthat seem to be an established fact?"

"No doubt of it!" assented Mr. Pawle. "Well?"

"In my opinion, " said Viner, quietly, "Wickham was the missing Lord ofMarketstoke!"

Mr. Pawle, who was still turning over the letters, examining their dates, let them slip out of his hands and gasped. 

"By George!" he exclaimed in a wondering voice. "It may be--possibly is!Then, in that case, that girl outside there--"

"Well?" asked Viner, after a pause. 

Mr. Pawle made a puzzled gesture and shook his head, as if in amazement. 

"In that case, if Wickham was the missing Lord Marketstoke, and this girlis his daughter, she's--" He broke off, and became still more puzzled. "Upon my honour, " he exclaimed, "I don't know who she is!"

"What do you mean?" asked Viner. "She's his daughter, ofcourse--Wickham's. Only, in that case--I mean, if he was really LordMarketstoke--her proper name, I suppose, is Cave-Gray. "

Mr. Pawle looked his young assistant over with an amused expression. 

"You haven't the old practitioner's _flair_, Viner, my boy!" he said. "When one's got to my age, and seen a number of queer things andhappenings, one's quick to see possible cases. Look here!--if Wickhamwas really Lord Marketstoke, and that girl across the hall is hisdaughter, she's probably--I say probably, for I don't know if thesuccession in this case goes with the female line--Countess ofEllingham, in her own right!"

Viner looked his surprise. 

"Is that really so--would it be so?" he asked. 

"It may be--I'm not sure, " replied Mr. Pawle. "As I say, I don't knowhow the succession runs in this particular instance. There are, as youare aware, several peeresses in their own rights--twenty-four or five, atleast. Some are very ancient peerages. I know that three--Furnivale andFauconberg and Conyers--go right back to the thirteenth century; threeothers--Beaumont, Darcy da Knayth, and Zorch of Haryngworth--date fromthe fourteenth. I'm not sure of this Ellingham peerage--but I'll find outwhen I get back to my office. However, granting the premises, and if thepeerage does continue in the female line, it will be as I say--thisgirl's the rightful holder of the title!"

Viner made no immediate answer and Mr. Pawle began to put up the lettersin their original wrappings. 

"Regular romance, isn't it--if it is so?" he exclaimed. "Extraordinary!"

"Shall you tell her?" asked Viner. 

Mr. Pawle considered the direct question while he completed his task. 

"No, " he said at last, "not at present. She evidently knows nothing, andshe'd better be left in complete ignorance for a while. You see, Viner, as I've pointed out to you several times, there isn't a paper or adocument of any description extant which refers to her. Nothing in myhands, nothing in the banker's hands, nothing here! And yet, supposingher father, Wickham, to have been Lord Marketstoke, and to have entrustedhis secret to Ashton at the same time that he gave him the guardianshipof his daughter, he must have given Ashton papers to prove his and heridentity--must! Where are they?"

"Do you know what I think?" said Viner. "I think--if I'm to put it inplain language--that Ashton carried those papers on him, and that he wasmurdered for the possession of them!"

Mr. Pawle nodded, and put the packet of letters in his pocket. 

"I shouldn't be surprised, " he answered. "It's a very probable theory, my boy. But it presupposes one thing, and makes one horribly suspiciousof another. "

"Yes?" inquired Viner. 

"It presupposes that Ashton let somebody into the secret, " replied Mr. Pawle, "and it makes one suspect that the person to whom he did reveal ithad such personal interest in suppressing it that he went to the lengthof murdering Ashton before Ashton could tell it to any one else. How doesthat strike you, Viner?"

"It's this--and not the diamond!" declared Viner doggedly. "I've a sortof absolute intuition that I'm right. "

"I think so too, " assented the old lawyer, dryly. "Thefifty-thousand-pound diamond is a side-mine. Very well, now we know alot, you and I. And, we're going to solve matters. And we're not going tosay a word to this young lady, at present--that's settled. But I want toask her some questions--come along. "

He led the way across the hall to the dining-room where a reminder ofAshton's death met his and Viner's view as soon as they had crossed thethreshold. The funeral was to take place next day, and Mrs. Killenhalland Miss Wickham were contemplating a massive wreath of flowers which hadevidently just arrived from the florist's and been deposited on thecentre-table. 

"All we can do for him, you know!" murmured Mrs. Killenhall, with aglance at the two men. "He--he had so few friends here, poor man!"

"That remark, ma'am, " observed Mr. Pawle, "is apropos of a subject that Iwant to ask Miss Wickham two or three questions about. Friends, now? MissWickham, you always understood that Mr. Ashton and your father were veryclose friends, I believe?"

"I always understood so--yes, Mr. Pawle, " replied Miss Wickham. 

"Did he ever tell you much about your father?"

"No, very little indeed. He never told me more than that they knew eachother very well, in Australia, that my father died out there, comparatively young, and that he left me in his, Mr. Ashton's care. "

"Did he ever tell you whether your father left you any money?" demandedthe old lawyer. 

Miss Wickham looked surprised. 

"Oh, yes!" she answered. "I thought you'd know that. My father left me agood deal of money. Didn't Mr. Ashton tell you?"

"Never a word!" said Mr. Pawle. "Now--where is it, then?"

"In my bank, " replied Miss Wickham promptly. "The London and Universal. When Mr. Ashton fetched me away from school and brought me here, he toldme that he had twelve thousand pounds of mine which my father had leftme, and he handed it over to me then and there, and took me to the Londonand Universal Bank, where I opened an account with it. "

"Spent any of it?" asked Mr. Pawle dryly. 

"Only a few pounds, " answered Miss Wickham. 

The old solicitor glanced at Viner, who, while these private matters werebeing inquired into, was affecting to examine the pictures on the walls. 

"Most extraordinary!" he muttered. "All this convinces me that Ashtonmust have had papers and documents! These must have been--however, wedon't know where they are. But there would surely be, for instance, yourfather's will, Miss Wickham. I suppose you've never seen such adocument? No, to be sure! You left all to Ashton. Well, now, do youremember your father?"

"Only just--and very faintly, Mr. Pawle, " replied Miss Wickham. "You mustremember I was little more than five years old. "

"Can you remember what he was like?"

"I think he was a big, tall man--but it's a mere impression. "

"Listen!" said Mr. Pawle. "Did you ever, at any time, hear Mr. Ashtonmake any reference--I'm talking now of the last few weeks--to theEllingham family, or to the Earl of Ellingham?"

"Never!" replied Miss Wickham. "Never heard of them. He never--"

Mrs. Killenhall was showing signs of a wish to speak, and Mr. Pawleturned to her. 

"Have you, ma'am?" he asked. 

"Yes, " said Mrs. Killenhall, "I have! It was one night when Miss Wickhamwas out--you were at Mrs. Murray-Sinclair's, my dear--and Mr. Ashton andI dined alone. He asked me if I remembered the famous Ellingham case, some years ago--something about the succession to the title--he said he'dread it in the Colonial papers. Of course, I remembered it very well. "

"Well, ma'am, " said Mr. Pawle, "and what then?"

"I think that was all, " answered Mrs. Killenhall. "He merely remarkedthat it was an odd case, and said no more. "

"What made him mention it?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh, we'd been talking about romances of the peerage, " replied Mrs. Killenhall. "I had told him of several. "

"You're well up in the peerage, ma'am?" suggested the old lawyer. 

"I know my Burke and my Debrett pretty thoroughly, " said Mrs. Killenhall. "Very interesting, of course. "

Mr. Pawle, who was sitting close to Miss Wickham, suddenly pointed to agold locket which she wore. 

"Where did you get that, my dear?" he asked. "Unusual device, isn't it?"

"Mr. Ashton gave it to me, a few weeks ago, " answered Miss Wickham. "Hesaid it had belonged to my father. "

The old lawyer bent nearer, looked more closely at the locket, and gotup. 

"Elegant old thing!" he said. "Not made yesterday, that! Well, ladies, you will see me, for this very sad occasion"--he waved a hand at thewreath of flowers--"tomorrow. In the meantime, if there is anything youwant done, our young friend here is close at hand. Just now, however, Iwant him. "

"Viner, " observed Pawle when they had left the house, "it's very odd howunobservant some people are! Now, there's that woman we've just left, Mrs. Killenhall, who says that she's well up in her Debrett, and herBurke, --and there, seen by her many a time, is that locket which MissWickham is wearing, and she's never noticed it! Never, I mean, noticedwhat's on it. Why, I saw it--and its significance--instantly, just now, which was the first time I'd seen it!"

"What is it that's on it?" asked Viner. 

"After we came back from Marketstoke, " replied Mr. Pawle, "I looked upthe Cave-Gray family and their peerage. That locket bears their deviceand motto. The device is a closed fist, grasping a handful of blades ofwheat; the motto is _Have and Hold_. Viner, as sure as fate, that girl'sfather was the missing Lord Marketstoke, and Ashton knew the secret! I'mconvinced of it--I'm positive of it. And now see the extraordinaryposition in which we're all placed. Ashton's dead, and there isn't onescrap of paper to show what it was that he really knew. Nothing--not onewritten line!"

"Because, as I said before, he was murdered for his papers, " affirmedViner. "I'm sure of that as you are of the rest. "

"I dare say you're right, " agreed Mr. Pawle. "But, as _I've_ saidbefore, that presupposes that Ashton told somebody the secret. Now--who? Was it the man he was with in Paris? And if so, who is thatman? But it's useless speculating. I've made up my mind to a certaincourse, Viner. Tomorrow, after the funeral, I'm going to call on thepresent Lord Ellingham--his town house is in Hertford Street, and Iknow he's in town--and ask him if he has heard anything of a mysteriousnature relating to his long-missing uncle. We may hear something--youcome with me. "

Next day, toward the middle of the afternoon, Mr. Pawle and Viner got outof a taxicab in Park Lane and walked down Hertford Street, the old lawyerexplaining the course he was about to take. 

"This is a young man--not long come of age, " he said. "He'll be quitewell acquainted, however, with the family history, and if anything'shappened lately, I dare say I can get him to talk. He--What is it?"

Viner had suddenly gripped his companion's arm and pulled him to a halt. He was looking ahead--at the house at which they were about to call. Andthere, just being shown out by a footman, was the man whom he had seen atthe old-fashioned tavern in Notting Hill, and with him a tall, good-looking man whom he had never seen before. 

CHAPTER XV

THE PRESENT HOLDER

Mr. Pawle turned sharply on his companion as Viner pulled him up. He sawthe direction of Viner's suddenly arrested gaze and looked from him tothe two men who had now walked down the steps of the house and wereadvancing towards them. 

"What is it?" he asked. "Those fellows are coming away from LordEllingham's house. You seem to know them?"

"One of them, " murmured Viner. "The clean-shaven man. Look at him!"

The two men came on in close, evidently absorbed conversation, passed Mr. Pawle and Viner without as much as a glance at them, and went along inthe direction of Park Lane. 

"Well?" demanded Mr. Pawle. 

"The clean-shaven man is the man I told you of--the man who was inconversation with Ashton at that tavern in Notting Hill the night Ashtonwas murdered, " answered Viner. "The other man I don't know. "

Mr. Pawle turned and looked after the retreating figures. 

"You're sure of that?" he asked. 

"Certain!" replied Viner. "I should know him anywhere. "

Mr. Pawle came to another halt, glancing first at the two men, now wellup the street, and then at the somewhat sombre front of Ellingham House. 

"Now, this is an extraordinary thing, Viner!" he exclaimed. "There's theman who, you say, was with Ashton not very long before he came to hisend, and we find him coming away--presumably--from Lord Ellingham, certainly from Lord Ellingham's house! What on earth does it mean? And Iwonder who the man is?"

"What I'd like to know, " said Viner, "is--who is the other man? But asyou say, it is certainly a very curious thing that we should find thefirst man evidently in touch with Lord Ellingham--considering our recentdiscoveries. But--what are you going to do?"

"Going in here, " affirmed Mr. Pawle, "to the fountain-head. We may get toknow something. Have you a card?"

The footman who took the cards looked doubtfully at them and theirpresenters. 

"His Lordship is just going out, " he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Idon't know--"

Mr. Pawle pointed to the name of his firm at the corner of his card. 

"I think Lord Ellingham will see me, " he said. "Tell his lordship I shallnot detain him many minutes if he will be kind enough to give me aninterview. "

The man went away--to return in a few minutes and to lead the callersinto a room at the rear of the hall, wherein, his back to the fire, hislook and attitude one of puzzled surprise, stood a very young man, dressed in the height of fashion, who, as his servant had said, wasobviously just ready to go out. Viner, remembering what had brought himand Mr. Pawle there, looked at Lord Ellingham closely--he seemed to befrank, ingenuous, and decidedly youthful. But there was somethingdecidedly practical and business-like in his greeting of his visitors. 

"I'm afraid I can't give you very long, Mr. Pawle, " he said, glancinginstinctively at the old lawyer. "I've a most important engagement inhalf an hour, and it won't be put off. But I can give you ten minutes. "

"I am deeply obliged to your lordship, " answered Mr. Pawle. "As yourlordship will have seen from my card, I am one of the partners in Crawle, Pawle and Rattenbury--a firm not at all unknown, I think. Allow me tointroduce my friend Mr. Viner, a gentlemen who is deeply concerned andinterested in the matter I want to mention to your lordship. "

Lord Ellingham responded politely to Viner's bow and drew twochairs forward. 

"Sit down, Mr. Pawle; sit down, Mr. Viner, " he said. He dropped into achair near a desk which stood in the centre of the room and lookedinterrogatively at his elder visitor. "Have you some business to discuss, Mr. Pawle?" he asked. 

"Some business, my lord, which, I confess at once, is of extraordinarynature, " answered the old lawyer. "I will go straight to it. Yourlordship has doubtless read in the newspapers of the murder of a mannamed Ashton in Lonsdale Passage, in the Bayswater district?"

Lord Ellingham glanced at a pile of newspapers which lay on aside-table. 

"Yes, " he answered, "I have. I've been much interested in it--as amurder. A curious and mysterious case, don't you think?"

"We, " replied Mr. Pawle, waving a hand toward Viner, "know it to be amuch more mysterious case than anybody could gather from the newspaperaccounts, for they know little who have written them, and we, who arebehind the scenes, know a great deal. Now, your lordship will have seenthat a young man, an actor named Langton Hyde, has been arrested andcharged, and is on remand. This unfortunate fellow was an old schoolmateof Mr. Viner--they were at Rugby together; and Mr. Viner--and I may say Imyself also--is convinced beyond doubt of his entire innocence, and wewant to clear him; we are doing all we can to clear him. And it isbecause of this that we have ventured to call on your lordship. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Lord Ellingham. "But--what can I do! How do I come in?"

"My lord, " said Mr. Pawle in his most solemn manner, "I will go straightto this point also. We have reason to feel sure, from undoubted evidence, that Mr. John Ashton, a very wealthy man, who had recently come fromAustralia, where he had lived for a great many years, to settle here inLondon, had in his possession when he was murdered certain highlyimportant papers relating to your lordship's family, and that he wasmurdered for the sake of them!"

The puzzled expression which Viner had noted in Lord Ellingham's boyishface when they entered the room grew more and more marked as Mr. Pawleproceeded, and he turned on the old lawyer at the end with a stare ofamazement. 

"You really think that!" he exclaimed. 

"I shall be very much surprised if I'm not right!" declared Mr. Pawle. 

"But what papers?" asked Lord Ellingham. "And what--how could this Mr. Ashton, who, you say, came from Australia, be in possession of papersrelating to my family? I never heard of him. "

"Your lordship, " said Mr. Pawle, "is doubtless well aware that some yearsago there was a very strange--shall we call it romance?--in your family. A very remarkable episode, anyway, a most unusual--"

"You mean the strange disappearance of my uncle--this Lord Marketstoke?"interrupted Lord Ellingham with a smile. "Oh, of course, I know allabout that. "

"Very well, my lord, " continued Mr. Pawle. "Then your lordship isaware that Lord Marketstoke was believed to have gone to theColonies--Australia or New Zealand--and was--lost there. His death waspresumed. Now, Ashton came from Australia, and as I say, we believe himto have brought with him certain highly important papers relative to LordMarketstoke, whom we think to have been well known to him at one time. Indeed, we felt sure that Ashton knew Lord Marketstoke's secret. Now, mylord, we are also confident that whoever killed John Ashton did so inorder to get hold of certain papers which, I feel certain, Ashton made ahabit of carrying on his person--papers relating to his friend LordMarketstoke's identity. "

Lord Ellingham remained silent for a moment, looking from one visitor toanother. It was very clear to Viner that some train of thought had beenaroused in him and that he was closely pursuing it. He fixed his gaze atlast on the old lawyer. 

"Mr. Pawle, " he said quietly, "have you any proof--undoubted proof--thatMr. Ashton did possess papers relating to my long-missing uncle?"

"Yes, " answered Mr. Pawle, "I have!" He pulled out the bundle of letterswhich he and Viner had unearthed from the Japanese cabinet. "This! It isa packet of letters written by the seventh Countess of Ellingham to herelder son, the Lord Marketstoke we are talking of, when he was a boy atEton. Your Lordship will probably recognize your grandmother'shandwriting. "

Lord Ellingham bent over the letter which Mr. Pawle spread before him. 

"Yes, " he said, "I know the writing quite well. And--these were in Mr. Ashton's possession?"

"We have just found them--Mr. Viner and I--in a cabinet in his house, "replied Mr. Pawle. "They are the only papers we have so far been able tobring to light. But as I have said, we are convinced there wereothers--much more important ones!--in his possession, probably in hispocketbook. "

Lord Ellingham handed the letters back. 

"You think that this Mr. Ashton was in possession of a secret relating tothe missing man--my uncle, Lord Marketstoke?" he asked. 

"I am convinced of it!" declared Mr. Pawle. 

Lord Ellingham glanced shrewdly at his visitors. 

"I should like to know what it was!" he said. 

"Your lordship feels as I do, " remarked Mr. Pawle. "But now I shouldlike to ask a question which arises out of this visit. As we approachedyour lordship's door, just now, we saw, leaving it, two men. One ofthem, my friend Mr. Viner immediately recognized. He does not know whothe man is--"

"Which of the two men do you mean!" interrupted Lord Ellingham. "I may aswell say that they had just left me. "

"The clean-shaven man, " answered Viner. 

"Whom Mr. Viner knows for a fact, " continued Mr. Pawle, "to have been inAshton's company only an hour or so before Ashton's murder!"

Lord Ellingham looked at Viner in obvious surprise. 

"But you do not know who he is?" he exclaimed. 

"No, " replied Viner, "I don't. But there is no doubt of the truth of whatMr. Pawle has just said. This man was certainly with Mr. Ashton at atavern in Notting Hill from about nine-thirty to ten-thirty on theevening of Ashton's death. In fact, they left the tavern together. "

The young nobleman suddenly pulled open a drawer in his desk, produced abox of cigarettes and silently offered it to his visitors. He lighted acigarette himself, and for a moment smoked in silence--it seemed to Vinerthat his youthful face had grown unusually grave and thoughtful. 

"Mr. Pawle, " he said at last, "I'm immensely surprised by what you'vetold me, and all the more so because this is the second surprise I've hadthis afternoon. I may as well tell you that the two gentlemen whom yousaw going away just now brought me some very astonishing news--yourscomes right on top of it! And, if you please, I'd rather not say anymore about it, just now, but I'm going to make a proposal to you. Willyou--and Mr. Viner, if he'll be so good--meet me tomorrow morning, say atnoon, at my solicitors' offices?"

"With pleasure!" responded Mr. Pawle. "Your lordship's solicitors are--"

"Carless and Driver, Lincoln's Inn Fields, " answered Lord Ellingham. 

"Friends of ours, " said Mr. Pawle. "We will meet your lordship there attwelve o 'clock to the minute. "

"And--you'll bring that with you?" suggested Lord Ellingham, pointing tothe packet of letters which Mr. Pawle held in his hand. 

"Just so, my lord, " assented Mr. Pawle. "And we'll be ready to tell allwe know--for there are further details. "

Outside the house the old lawyer gripped Viner's elbow. 

"That boy knows something!" he said with a meaning smile. "He's astuteenough for his age--smart youngster! But--what does he know? Those twomen have told him something. Viner, we must find out who that clean-shavenman is. I have some idea that I have seen him before--I shouldn't be atall surprised if he's a solicitor, may have seen him in some court orother. But in that case I wonder he didn't recognize me. "

"He didn't look at you, " replied Viner. "He and the other man were toomuch absorbed in whatever it was they were talking about. I have beenwondering since I first saw him at the tavern, " he continued, "if Iought not to tell the police what I know about him--I mean, that hewas certainly in Ashton's company on the evening of the murder. Whatdo you think?"

"I think not, at present, " replied Mr. Pawle. "It seems evident--unless, indeed, it was all a piece of bluff, and it may have been--that this manis, or was when you saw him, just as ignorant as the landlord of thatplace was that the man who used to drop in there and Ashton were one andthe same person. No, let the police go on their own lines--we're onothers. We shall hear of this man again, whoever he is. Now I must getback to my office--come there at half-past eleven tomorrow morning, Viner, and we'll go on to Carless and Driver's. "

Viner went thoughtfully homeward, ruminating over the events of the day, and entered his house to find his two guests, the sisters of the unluckyHyde, in floods of tears, and Miss Penkridge looking unusually grave. Theelder Miss Hyde sprang up at sight of him and held a tear-soakedhandkerchief towards him in pantomimic appeal. 

"Oh, Mr. Viner, " she exclaimed, "you are so kind, and so clever. I'm sureyou'll see a way out of this! It looks, oh, so very black, and so verymuch against him; but oh, dear Mr. Viner, there must be someexplanation!"

"But what is it?" asked Viner, looking from one to the other. "What hashappened! Has any one been here?"

Miss Penkridge silently handed to her nephew an early edition of one ofthe evening newspapers and pointed to a paragraph in large type. AndViner rapidly read it over, to the accompaniment of the younger MissHyde's sobs. 

A sensational discovery in connection with the recent murder of Mr. Ashton in Lonsdale Passage, Bayswater, was made in the early hours ofthis morning. Charles Fisher, a greengrocer, carrying on business in theHarrow Road, found in his woodshed, concealed in a nook in the wall, aparcel containing Mr. Ashton's gold watch and chain and a diamond ring. He immediately communicated with the police, and these valuables are nowin their possession. It will be remembered that Langton Hyde, the youngactor who is charged with the crime, and who is now on remand, stated atthe coroner's inquest that he passed the night on which the crime wascommitted in a shed in this neighbourhood. 

Viner read this news twice over. Then a sudden idea occurred to him, andhe turned to leave the room. 

"I don't think you need be particularly alarmed about this, " he saidto the weeping sisters. "Cheer up, till I return--I am going round tothe police. "

CHAPTER XVI

THE OUTHOUSE

Near the police-station Viner fell in with his solicitor, Felpham, whoturned a corner in a great hurry. Felpham's first glance showed hisclient that their purposes were in common. 

"Seen that paragraph in the evening papers?" said Felpham withoutpreface. "By George! that's serious news! What a pity that Hyde ever madethat statement about his doings on the night of the murder! It would havebeen far better if he'd held his tongue altogether. "

"He insisted on it--in the end, " answered Viner. "And in my opinion hewas right. But--you think this is very serious?"

"Serious? Yes!" exclaimed Felpham. "He says he spent the night in a shedin the Harrow Road district. Now the things that were taken from Ashton'sbody are discovered in such a place--nay, the very place; for if youremember, Hyde particularized his whereabouts. What's the obviousconclusion? What can anybody think?"

"I see two or three obvious conclusions, and I think several things, "remarked Viner. "I'll tell you what they are when we've seen Drillford. I'm not alarmed about this discovery, Felpham. I think it may lead tofinding the real murderer. "

"You see further than I do, then, " muttered Felpham. "I only see thatit's highly dangerous to Hyde's interests. And I want first-handedinformation about it. "

Drillford, discovered alone in his office, smiled as the two men walkedin--there was an irritating I-told-you-so air about him. 

"Ah!" he said. "I see you gentlemen have been reading the afternoonpapers! What do you think about your friend now, Mr. Viner?"

"Precisely what I thought before and shall continue to think, " retortedViner. "I've seen no reason to alter my opinion. "

"Oh--but I guess Mr. Felpham doesn't think that way?" replied Drillfordwith a shrewd glance at the solicitor. "Mr. Felpham knows the value ofevidence, I believe!"

"What is it that's been found, exactly?" asked Felpham. 

Drillford opened a locked drawer, lifted aside a sheet of cardboard, andrevealed a fine gold watch and chain and a diamond ring. These lay on twoor three sheets of much crumpled paper of a peculiar quality. 

"There you are!" said Drillford. "Those belonged to Mr. Ashton; there'shis name on the watch, and a mark of his inside the ring. They were foundearly this morning, hidden, in the very place in which Hyde confessedthat he spent most of the night after Ashton's murder--a shed belongingto one Fisher, a greengrocer, up the Harrow Road. 

"Who found them?" demanded Felpham. 

"Fisher himself, " answered Drillford. "He was pottering about in hisshed before going to Covent Garden. He wanted some empty boxes, and inpulling things about he found--these! Couldn't have made a more importantfind, I think. 

"Were these things loose?" asked Viner. 

"Wrapped loosely in the paper they're lying on, " replied Drillford. 

Viner took the paper out of the drawer, examined it and lifted itto his nose. 

"I wonder, if Hyde really did put those things there, " he said, "how Hydecame to be carrying about with him these sheets of paper which hadcertainly been used before for the wrappings of chemicals or drugs?"

Felpham pricked his ears. 

"Eh?" he said. "What's that?"

"Smell for yourself, " answered Viner. "Let the inspector smell too. Idraw the attention to both of you to the fact, because we'll raise thatpoint whenever it's necessary. Those papers have at some time been usedto wrap some strong-smelling drug. "

"No doubt of it!" said Felpham, who was applying the papers to his nose. "Smell them, Drillford! As Mr. Viner says, what would Hyde be doing withthis stuff in his pocket?"

"That's a mere detail, " remarked Drillford impatiently. "These chaps thatmooch about, as Hyde was doing, pick up all sorts of odds and ends. Hemay have pinched them from a chemist's shop. Anyway, there's thefact--and we'll hang him on it! You'll see!"

"We shall never see anything of the sort!" said Viner. "You're on thewrong tack, Inspector. Let me put two or three things to yourintelligence. Where's Ashton's purse? I know for a fact that Ashton had apurse full of money when he went out of his house that night--Mrs. Killenhall and Miss Wickham saw him take it out just before he left togive some cash to the parlourmaid, and they saw him replace it in histrousers pocket; I also know for another fact where he spent money thatevening--in short, I know now a good deal about his movements for somehours before his death. "

"Then you ought to tell us, Mr. Viner, " said Drillford a little sulkily. "You oughtn't to keep any information to yourself. "

"You're going on the wrong tack, or I might, " retorted Viner. "But you'llknow all in good time. Now, I ask you again--where's Ashton's purse? Youknow as well as I do that when his clothing was examined, almostimmediately after his death, all his effects were gone--watch, chain, rings, pocketbook, purse. If Hyde took the whole lot, do you think hewould ever have been such a consummate ass as to wait until next morningto pawn that ring in Edgware Road? The idea is preposterous!"

"And why, pray?" demanded Drillford, obviously nettled at the turn whichthe conversation was taking. 

"I wonder your own common sense doesn't tell you, " said Viner withintentional directness. "If Hyde took everything from his victim, asyou say he did, he would have had a purse full of ready money. He couldhave gone off to some respectable lodging-house. He could have put ahundred miles between himself and London by breakfast-time. He wouldhave had ready money to last him for months. But--he was starving whenhe went to the pawnbrokers! Hyde told you the truth--he never hadanything but that ring. "

"Good!" muttered Felpham. "Good, Viner! That's one in the eye for you, Drillford. "

"Another thing that you're forgetting, Inspector, " continued Viner: "Isuppose you attach some value to probabilities? Do you, as a sensibleman, believe for one moment that Hyde, placed in the position he is, would be such a fool, such a suicidal fool, as to tell you about thatparticular shed if he'd really hidden those things there? The mere ideais absurd--ridiculous!"

"Good again, Viner!" said Felpham. "He wouldn't!"

Drillford, obviously ill-pleased, put the strongly-smelling paper andthe valuables which had been wrapped in it, back in the drawer andturned the key. 

"All very well talking and theorizing, Mr. Viner, " he said sullenly. "Weknow from his own lips that Hyde did spend the night in that shed. If hedidn't put these things there, who did?"

Viner gave him a steady look. 

"The man who murdered and robbed Ashton!" he answered. "And that man wasnot Hyde. "

"You'll have that to prove, " retorted Drillford, derisively. "I know whata jury'll think with all this evidence before it!"

"We shall prove a good many things that'll surprise you, " said Vinerquietly. "And you'll see, then, the foolishness of jumping at what seemsto be an obvious conclusion. "

He motioned Felpham to follow, and going outside, turned in the directionof the Harrow Road. 

"I'm going to have a look at the place where these things were found, " hesaid. "Come with me. You see for yourself, " he continued as they walkedon, "how ridiculous it is to suppose that Hyde planted them. The wholeaffair is plain enough, to me. The real murderer read--or may haveheard--Hyde's statement before the coroner, and in order to strengthenthe case against Hyde and divert suspicion from himself, sought out thisshed and put the things there. Clumsy! If Hyde had ever had the purse, which more certainly disappeared with the rest of the property, he'dnever have gone to that shed at all. "

"We'll make the most of all that, " said Felpham. "But I gathered, fromwhat you said just now to Drillford, that you know more about this casethan you've let out. If it's in Hyde's favour--"

"I can't tell you what I know, " answered Viner. "I do know some strangethings, which will all come out in good time. If we bring the murder hometo the right man, Hyde of course will be cleared. I'll tell everything assoon as I can, Felpham. "

They walked quickly forward until they came to the higher part of theHarrow Road; there, at a crowded point of that dismal thoroughfare, wherethe shops were small and mean, Felpham suddenly lifted a finger towards asign which hung over an open front filled with the cheaper sorts ofvegetables. 

"Here's the place, " he said, "a corner shop. The shed, of course, willbe somewhere behind. "

Viner looked with interest at the refuge which Hyde had chosen afterhis hurried flight from the scene of the murder. A shabby lookingstreet ran down from the corner of the greengrocer's shop; the firsttwenty yards of it on that side were filled with palings, more or lessbroken and dilapidated; behind them lay a yard in which stood a van, two or three barrows, a collection of boxes and baskets and crates, anda lean-to shed, built against the wall of the adjoining house. The doorof this yard hung loosely on its rusty hinges; Viner saw at once thatnothing could be easier than for a man to slip into this miserableshelter unseen. 

"Let's get hold of the tenant, " he said. "Better show him your card, andthen he'll know we're on professional business. "

The greengrocer, a dull-looking fellow who was measuring potatoes, showedno great interest on hearing what his callers wanted. Summoning his wifeto mind the shop, he led Viner and Felpham round to the yard and openedthe door of the shed. This was as untidy as the yard, and filled with asimilar collection of boxes, baskets and crates. In one corner lay abundle of empty potato sacks--the greengrocer at once pointed to it. 

"I reckon that's where the fellow got a bit of a sleep that night, " hesaid. "There was nothing to prevent him getting in here--no locks orbolts on either gate of the yard or that door. He may have been in heremany a night, for all I know. "

"Where did you find those valuables this morning?" asked Viner. 

The greengrocer pointed to a shelf in a corner above the bundleof sacking. 

"There!" he answered. "I wanted some small boxes to take down to CoventGarden, and in turning some of these over I came across a little parcel, wrapped in paper--slipped under a box that was turned top downwards onthe shelf, you understand? So of course I opened it, and there was thewatch and chain and ring. "

"Just folded in the papers that you handed to the police?"suggested Viner. 

"Well, there was more paper about 'em than what I gave to InspectorDrillford, " said the greengrocer. "A well-wrapped-up bit of parcel itwas--there's the rest of the paper there, where I threw it down. "

He pointed to some loose sheets of paper which lay on the sacking, andViner went forward, picked them up, looked quickly at them, and put themin his pocket. 

"I suppose you never heard anybody about, that night?" he asked turningto the greengrocer. 

"Not I!" the man replied. "I sleep too sound to hear aught of that sort. There's nothing in here that's of any value. No--a dozen folk could comeinto this yard at night and we shouldn't hear 'em--we sleep at the frontof the house. "

Viner slipped some silver into the greengrocer's hand and led Felphamaway. And when they reached a quieter part of the district, he pulled outthe papers which he had picked out of the corner in the shed and heldthem in front of his companion's eyes. 

"We did some good in coming up here, after all, Felpham!" he said, witha grim smile. "It wasn't a mere desire to satisfy idle curiosity thatmade me come. I thought I might, by sheer good luck, hit on something, orsome idea that would help. Now then, look at these things. That's a pieceof newspaper from out of a copy of the _Melbourne Argus_ of September 6thlast. Likely thing for Langton Hyde to be carrying in his pocket, eh?"

"Good heavens, that's certainly important!" exclaimed Felpham. 

"And so is this, and perhaps much more so, " said Viner, making a secondexhibit. "That's a sheet of brown wrapping-paper with the name andaddress of a famous firm of wholesale druggists and chemicalmanufacturers on one side--printed. It's another likely thing for Hyde topossess, and to carry about, isn't it?"

"And the same bitter, penetrating smell about it!" said Felpham. 

"Hyde, of course, if Drillford is correct, had all this paper in hispocket when he went into that shed, " said Viner. "But I have a differentidea, and a different theory. Here, " he went on, folding his discoveriestogether neatly, "you take charge of these--and take care of them. Theymay be of more importance than we think. "

He went home full of thought, restored the sisters to something likecheerfulness by assuring them that the situation was no worse, andpossibly rather better, and spent the rest of the evening in his study, silently working things out. Viner, by the time he went to bed, hadevolved an idea, and it was still developing and growing stronger when heset out next morning to accompany Mr. Pawle to Lord Ellingham'ssolicitors. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE CLAIMANT

Carless and Driver practised their profession of the law in one of theold houses on the south side of Lincoln's Inn Fields--a house so old thatit immediately turned Viner's thought to what he had read of the dayswherein Inigo Jones exercised his art up the stately frontages, and duelswere fought in the gardens which London children now sport in. In one ofthese houses lived Blackstone; in another Erskine; one ancient roof oncesheltered John Milton; another heard the laughter of Nell Gwynn; up thepanelled staircase which Mr. Pawle and his companion were presentlyconducted, the feet of many generations had trod. And the room into whichthey were duly conducted was so old-world in appearance with its oakenwalls and carving and old-fashioned furniture that nothing but the factthat its occupants wore twentieth century garments would have convincedViner that he had not been suddenly thrown back to the days of Queen Anne. 

Lord Ellingham was already there when they arrived--in conference withhis solicitor, Mr. Carless, a plump, rosy, active gentleman who woremutton-chop whiskers and--secretly--prided himself on his likeness to thetype of fox-hunting squire. It was very evident to Viner that bothsolicitor and client were in a state of expectancy bordering on somethingvery like excitement; and Mr. Carless, the preliminary greetings beingover, plunged at once into the subject. 

"I say, Pawle, " he exclaimed, turning at once to his fellow-practitioner, "this appears to be a most extraordinary business! His lordship has justbeen telling me all about the two calls he had yesterday--first from twomen whom he'd never seen before--then from you two, who were alsostrangers. He has also told me what both lots of his callers had to say, and hang me if I ever heard of two such curious unfoldings coming one ontop of the other. Sounds like a first-class mystery!"

"You forget, " remarked Mr. Pawle with a glance at Lord Ellingham, "thatwe don't know--Mr. Viner and myself--what it was that his lordship'sfirst couple of callers told him. He left that until today. "

Mr. Carless looked at his client, who nodded his head as if in assent tosomething in the glance. 

"Well, as I'm now in possession of the facts, " said he, "I'll tell you, Pawle--His Lordship has given me a clear account of what his firstcallers said, and what you and Mr. Viner added to it. The two men whomyou saw coming away from Ellingham House were Methley and Woodlesford, two solicitors who are in partnership in Edgware Road--I know of them: Ithink we've had conveyancing business with them once or twice. Quite arespectable firm--in a smallish way, you know, but all right so far as Iknow anything of them. Now, they came to Lord Ellingham yesterdayafternoon with a most extraordinary story. His lordship tells me that helearned from your talk with him yesterday afternoon that you are prettywell acquainted, you and Mr. Viner, with his family history, so I'll gostraight to the point. What do you think Methley and Woodlesford came totell him? You'd never guess!"

"I won't try!" answered Mr. Pawle. "What, then?"

Mr. Carless smiled grimly. 

"That the long-lost Lord Marketstoke was alive and in England!" he said. "Here, in fact, in London!"

Mr. Pawle smiled too. But his smile was not grim--it was, rather, thesmile of a man who hears what he has been expecting to hear. 

"I thought it would be something of that sort!" he exclaimed. "Aye, Ifancied that would be the game!"

"You think it a game?" suggested Mr. Carless. 

"And a highly dangerous one--as somebody will find out, " responded Mr. Pawle. "But--what did these fellows really say!"

"His lordship will correct me if I miss anything pertinent, " answered Mr. Carless with a glance at his client. "They said this--that they had beencalled upon by a gentleman now staying at one of the private residentialhotels in Lancaster Gate, who was desirous of legal assistance in animportant matter and had been recommended to them by a fellow-boarder atthe hotel. He then told them that though he was now passing under thename of Cave--"

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle, with a snort which denoted a certain sort ofsurprised satisfaction. "Ah, to be sure! Cave, of course! But I interruptyou--pray proceed. "

"I see your point, " remarked Mr. Carless with a smile. "Well--although hewas passing under the name of Cave, he was, in strict reality, the LordMarketstoke who disappeared from England many years ago, who was neverheard of again, and whose death had been presumed. He was, therefore, therightful Earl of Ellingham, and as such entitled to the estates. Heproceeded to tell Methley and Woodlesford his adventures. 

"He had, he said, never at any time from boyhood been on good terms withhis father: there had always been mutual dislike. As he grew to manhood, his father had thwarted him in every conceivable way. He himself as ayoung man, had developed radical and democratic ideas--this had caused afurther widening of the breach. Eventually he had made up his mind toclear out of England altogether. He had a modest amount of money of hisown, a few thousands which had been left him by his mother. So he tookthis and quietly disappeared. 

"According to his own account he became a good deal of a rolling stone, going to various out-of-the-way parts of the earth, and takingparticular pains, wherever he went, to conceal his identity. He toldthese people Methley and Woodlesford, that he had at one time or anotherlived and traded in South Africa, India, China, Japan and the MalaySettlement--finally he had settled down in Australia. He had kepthimself familiar with events at home--knew of his father's death, and hesaw no end of advertisements for himself. He was aware that legalproceedings were taken as regards the presumption of his death and theadministration of the estates; he was also aware of the death of hisyounger brother and that title and estates were now in possession of hisnephew--His Lordship there. In fact, he was very well up in the wholestory, according to Methley and Woodlesford, " said Mr. Carless, with asmile. "And Lord Ellingham believed that Methley and Woodlesford weregenuinely convinced by him. "

"Seemed so, anyway, both of 'em, " agreed Lord Ellingham. 

"However, " continued Mr. Carless, "Methley and Woodlesford, like you andI, Pawle, are limbs of the law. They asked two very pertinent questions. First--why had he come forward after this long interval? Second--whatevidence had he to support and prove his claim?"

"Good!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "And I'll be bound he had some excellentreplies ready for them. "

"He had, " said Mr. Carless. "He answered as regards the first questionthat of late things had not gone well with him. He was still comfortablyoff, but he had lost a lot of money in Australia through speculation. Hereplied to the second by producing certain papers and documents. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle, nudging Viner. "Now we're warming to it!"

"And according to what Methley and Woodlesford told Lord Ellingham, "continued Mr. Carless, "these papers and documents are of a veryconvincing nature. They said to His Lordship frankly that they weregreatly surprised by them. They had thought that this man might possiblybe a bogus claimant, who had somehow gained a thorough knowledge of thefacts he was narrating, but the papers he produced, which, he alleged, had never been out of his possession since his secret flight from London, were--well, staggering. After inspecting them, Methley and Woodlesfordcame to the conclusion that their caller really was what he claimed tobe--the missing man!"

"What were the papers?" demanded Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh!" replied Mr. Carless, looking at his client. "Letters, certificates, and the like, --all, according to Methley and Woodlesford, excellentproofs of identity. "

"Did they show them to Your Lordship?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"Oh, no! they only told me of them, " answered Lord Ellingham. "They said, of course, that they would be shown to me, or to Mr. Carless. "

"Aye!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "Just so! Yes, and they will have to beshown!"

"That follows as a matter of course, " observed Mr. Carless. "But now, Pawle, we come to the real point of the case. Methley and Woodlesford, having informed His Lordship of all this when they called on himyesterday afternoon then proceeded to tell him precisely what theirclient, the claimant, as we will now call him, really wanted, for he hadbeen at some pains, considerable pains, to make himself clear on thatpoint to them, and he desired them to make themselves clear to LordEllingham, whom he throughout referred to as his nephew. He had nodesire, he told them, to recover his title, nor the estates. He did notcare a cent--his own phrase--for the title. He was now sixty years ofage. The life he had lived had quite unfitted him for the positions andduties of an English nobleman. He wanted to go back to the country inwhich he had settled. But as title and estates really were his, he wantedhis nephew, the present holder, to make him a proper payment, inconsideration of the receipt of which he would engage to preserve thesilence which he had already kept so thoroughly and effectively forthirty-five years. Eh?"

"In plain language, " said Mr. Pawle, "he wanted to be bought. "

"Precisely!" agreed Mr. Carless. "Of course, Methley and Woodlesforddidn't quite put it in that light. They put it that their client had nowish to disturb his nephew, but suggested, kindly, that his nephew shouldmake him a proper payment out of his abundance. "

Mr. Pawle turned to Lord Ellingham. 

"Did they mention a sum to Your Lordship?" he asked. 

"Yes, " replied Lord Ellingham, with a smile at Carless. "Theydid--tentatively. "

"How much?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"One hundred thousand pounds!"

"On receipt of which, I suppose, " observed Mr. Pawle dryly, "nothingwould ever be heard again of your lordship's long-lost uncle, therightful owner of all that Your Lordship possesses?"

Lord Ellingham laughed. 

"So I gathered!" he answered. 

"I wish I'd been present when Methley and Woodlesford put forward thatproposition, " exclaimed the old lawyer. "Did they seem serious?"

"Oh, I think they were quite serious, " replied Lord Ellingham. "Theyseemed so; they spoke of it as what they called a domestic arrangement. "

"Excellent phrase!" remarked Mr. Pawle. "And what said your lordship totheir--or the claimant's proposition?"

"I told them that the matter was so serious that they and I must see mysolicitors about it, " answered Lord Ellingham, "and I arranged to meetthem here at one o'clock today. They quite agreed that that was theproper thing to do, and went away. Then--you and Mr. Viner called. "

"With, I understand, another extraordinary story, " remarked Mr. Carless. "The particulars of which His Lordship has also told me. Now, Pawle, whatdo you really say about all this?"

Mr. Pawle smote his clenched right fist on the palm of his openleft hand. 

"I will tell you what I say, Carless!" he exclaimed with emphasis. "Isay that whatever the papers and documents were which were produced bythis man to Methley and Woodlesford, they were stolen from the body ofJohn Ashton, who was foully murdered in Lonsdale Passage only last week. I'll stake all I have on that! Now, then, did this claimant steal them?Did he murder John Ashton for them? No--a thousand times no, for no manwould have been such a fool as to come forward with them so soon afterhis victim's death! This claimant doesn't know how or where or when theywere obtained--he doesn't suspect that murder's in it. Now, then--wheredid he get them? Who's at the back of him? Who--to be plain--who'smaking a cat's-paw of him? Find that out, and we shall know who murderedJohn Ashton!"

Viner, glancing at Lord Ellingham and at Mr. Carless, saw that Mr. Pawle's words had impressed them greatly, the solicitor especially. Henodded sympathetically, and Mr. Pawle went on speaking. 

"Listen here, Carless!" he continued. "Mr. Viner and I have beeninvestigating this case as far as we could, largely to save a man whom weboth believe to be absolutely innocent of murder. I have come to certainconclusions. John Ashton, many years ago, fell in with the missing LordMarketstoke, then living under the name of Wickham, in Australia, andthey became close friends. At some time or other, Wickham told Ashton thereal truth about himself, and when he died, left his little daughter--"

Carless looked sharply round. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "So there's a daughter?"

"There is a daughter, and her name is Avice--a name borne by a good manywomen of the Cave-Gray family, " answered Mr. Pawle with a significantglance at his fellow-practitioner. "But let me go on: Wickham left hisdaughter, her mother being dead, in Ashton's guardianship. She was thenabout six years of age. Ashton sent her to school here in England. Abouttwelve or thirteen years later, he came home and settled in MarkendaleSquare. He brought Avice Wickham to live with him. He handed over to hera considerable sum, which, he said, her father had left in his hands forher. And then, secretly, Ashton went down to Marketstoke and evidentlymade certain inquiries and investigations. Whether he was going to revealthe truth as to what I have just told you, we don't know--probably hewas. But he was murdered, and we all know when and where. And I say hewas murdered for the sake of these very papers which we now know wereproduced to Methley and Woodlesford by this claimant. Now, then--"

Mr. Carless suddenly bent forward. 

"A moment, Pawle!" he said. "If this man Wickham really was the lostLord Marketstoke, and he's dead, and he left a daughter, and thedaughter's alive--"

"Well?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "Well?"

"Why, then, of course, that daughter, " said Mr. Carless slowly, "thatdaughter is--"

A clerk opened the door and glanced at his employer. 

"Mr. Methley and Mr. Woodlesford, sir, " he announced. "By appointment. "

CHAPTER XVIII

LET HIM APPEAR!

The meeting between the solicitors suggested to Viner and to LordEllingham, who looked on curiously while they exchanged formal greetingsand explanations, a certain solemnity--each of them seemed to imply inlook and manner that this was an unusually grave occasion. And Mr. Carless, assuming the direction of things, became almost judicial in hisdeportment. 

"Well, gentlemen, " he said, when they had all gathered about his desk. "Lord Ellingham has informed me of what passed between you and himself athis house yesterday. In plain language, the client whom you representclaims to be the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared so completely manyyears ago, and therefore the rightful Earl of Ellingham. Now, a firstquestion--do you, as his legal advisers, believe in his claim?"

"Judging by the proofs with which he has furnished us, yes, " answeredMethley. "There seems to be no doubt of it. "

"We'll ask for these proofs presently, " remarked Mr. Carless. "But now afurther question: Your client--whom we'll now call the claimant--had, Iunderstand, no desire to take up his rightful position, and suggeststhat the secret shall remain a secret, and that he shall be paid ahundred thousand pounds to hold his tongue?"

"If you put it that way--yes, " replied Methley. 

"I don't know in what other way it could be put, " said Mr. Carlessgrimly. "It's the plain truth. But now, if Lord Ellingham refuses thatoffer, does your client intend to commence proceedings?"

"Our instructions are--yes, " answered Methley. 

"Very good, " said Mr. Carless. "Now, then--what are these proofs?"

Methley turned to his partner, who immediately thrust a hand in hisbreastpocket and produced a long envelope. 

"I have them here, " said Woodlesford. "Our client intrusted them to us sothat we might show them to Lord Ellingham, if necessary. There are notmany documents--they all relate to the period of our client's life beforehe left England. There are one or two important letters from his father, the seventh Earl, two or three from his mother; there is also hismother's will. There is one letter from his younger brother, to whom hehad evidently, more than once, announced his determination of leavinghome for a considerable time. There are two letters from your own firm, relating to some property which Lord Marketstoke disposed of before heleft London. There is a schedule or memorandum of certain personaleffects which he left in his rooms at Ellingham Hall: there is also areceipt from his bankers for a quantity of plate and jewellery which hehad deposited with them before leaving--these things had been left him byhis mother. There are also two documents which he seems to haveconsidered it worth while to preserve all these years, " concludedWoodlesford with a smile. "One is a letter informing him that he had beenelected a member of the M. C. C. ; the other is his commission as a justiceof the peace for the county of Buckinghamshire. "

As he detailed these things, Woodlesford laid each specified paper beforeMr. Carless, and then they all gathered round, and examined each exhibit. The various documents were somewhat faded with age, and the edges of somewere worn as if from long folding and keeping in a pocketbook. Mr. Carless hastily ran his eye over them. 

"Very interesting, gentlemen, " he remarked. "But you know, as well as Ido, that these things don't prove your client to be the missing LordMarketstoke. A judge and jury would want a lot more evidence than that. The mere fact that your man is in possession of all these documentsproves nothing whatever. He may have stolen them!"

"From what we have seen of our client, Mr. Carless, " observed Methley, with some stiffness of manner, "there is no need for such a suggestion. "

"I dare say we shall all see a good deal of your client before thismatter is settled, Mr. Methley, " retorted Mr. Carless. "And even when Ihave seen a lot of him, I should still say the same--he _may_ have stolenthem! What else has he to prove that he's what he says he is?"

"He is fully conversant with his family history, " said Woodlesford. "Hecan give a perfectly full and--so far as we can judge--accurate accountof his early life and of his subsequent doings. He evidently knows allabout Ellingham Hall, Marketstoke and the surroundings. I think if youwere to examine him on these points, you would find that his memory issurprisingly fresh. "

"I have no doubt that it will come to his being examined on a great manypoints and in much detail, " said Mr. Carless with a dry smile. "Ofcourse, I shall be much interested in seeing him. You see, I remember themissing Lord Marketstoke very well indeed--he was often in here when I, as a lad of nineteen or twenty, was articled to my own father. And now, gentlemen, I'll ask you a question and commend it to your intelligenceand common sense: if your client is this man he claims to be, why didn'the come straight to Carless and Driver, whom he would remember wellenough, instead of going to Methley and Woodlesford? Come, now?"

Neither visitor answered this question, and Mr. Pawle suddenly turned onthem with another. 

"Did your client mention to you that he knew Carless and Driver as thefamily solicitors?" he asked. 

"No, I can't say that he did, " admitted Methley. "After all, thirty-fiveyears' absence, you know--"

"You said just now that his memory was surprisingly fresh, " interruptedMr. Pawle. 

"Surely, " replied Woodlesford, "surely you can't expect a man who hasbeen away from England all that time to remember everything!"

"I should have expected Lord Marketstoke to have gone straight to thefamily solicitors, anyway, " retorted Mr. Pawle. "Obvious thing to do--ifhis story is a true one. "

Woodlesford glanced at his partner, and repossessing himself of thedocuments, began to arrange them in the envelope from which he haddrawn them. 

"We cannot, of course, say positively who our client is or who he isnot, " he said. "All we can say is that he came to us with an introductionfrom an old client of ours whom we knew very well, and that his storyseems to us to be quite credible. No doubt he can bring further proof. That he did not come here in the first instance--"

"I'll tell you why I, personally, am very much surprised that he didn't, "interrupted Mr. Carless. "You told Lord Ellingham yesterday that yourclient saw no end of advertisements for him at the time of his father'sdeath. Now, we, Carless and Driver, sent out those advertisements--ourname was appended to every one of them, wherever they appeared. Why, then, when this man--if he is the real man--returned home, did he notcome to us? For there are three persons in this office who--but wait!"

He touched a bell; the clerk who had announced Methley and Woodlesfordput his head in at the door. 

"Ask Mr. Portlethwaite to come here, " commanded Mr. Carless. "And justfind out if Mr. Driver is in his room. Portlethwaite can tell me whenhe comes. "

An elderly, grey-haired man presently appeared and closed the door behindhim as if aware of the sacred nature of the proceedings. 

"Mr. Driver is out, Mr. Carless, " he said. "You wanted me, I think?"

"Our senior clerk, " observed Mr. Carless, by way of introduction. "Portlethwaite, you remember the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared somethirty-five years ago?"

Mr. Portlethwaite smiled. 

"Quite well, Mr. Carless!" he answered. "As if it were yesterday. He usedto come here a good deal, you know. "

"Do you think you'd know him again, Portlethwaite, after all theseyears?" asked Mr. Carless. "Thirty-five years, mind!"

The elderly clerk smiled--more assuredly than before. Then he lookedsignificantly at a corner of the room, and Mr. Carless took the hint, andrising from his chair, went aside with him. Portlethwaite whisperedsomething in his employer's ear, and Carless suddenly laughed and nodded. 

"To be sure--to be sure--I remember now!" he said aloud. "Thank you, Portlethwaite: that's all. Well, gentlemen, " he continued, returning tohis desk when the clerk had gone. "I think the best thing you can do isto bring your client here--if he is the real and genuine article, hewill, I am sure, be very glad indeed to meet three persons who knew himquite intimately in the old days--Mr. Driver, Mr. Portlethwaite andmyself. And I really don't know that there's any more to do or say. "

The two visitors rose, and Methley looked at Mr. Carless in aquestioning fashion. 

"Am I to go away with the impression that you believe our client to be animpostor?" he said quietly. 

"Frankly I do!" answered Mr. Carless. 

"So do I!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "Emphatically so!"

"In that case, " said Methley, "I see no advantage in bringing him here. "

"Not even anything to your own advantage?" suggested Mr. Carless, with akeen glance which passed from one partner to the other. "You, asreputable practitioners of our profession, don't want to be mixed up withan impostor?"

"We should be very sorry to be mixed up in any way with an impostor, Mr. Carless!" said Methley. 

Mr. Carless pursed his lips for a moment as if he were never going toopen them again; then he suddenly relaxed them. 

"I tell you what it is, gentlemen!" he said. "I'm only anticipatingmatters in saying what I'm going to say, and I'm saying it because I feelsure you are quite sincere and genuine in this affair and are beingdeceived. If you will bring your client here, there are three of us inthis office who, as my old clerk has just reminded me, can positivelyidentify him on the instant if he is the man he claims to be. Positively, I say, and at once! There!"

"May one ask how?" said Woodlesford. 

"No!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "Bring him! Telephone an appointment--andwe'll settle the matter as soon as he sets foot inside that door. "

"May we tell him that?" asked Methley. 

"You can do as you like, " answered Mr. Carless. "Between ourselves, Ishouldn't! But I assure you--we can tell in one glance! That's a fact!"

The two solicitors went away; and Viner, who had closely watched Methleyduring the interview, followed them out and hailed Methley in thecorridor outside Mr. Carless' room. 

"May I have a word with you?" he asked, drawing him aside. "I don't knowif you remember, but I saw you the other night in the parlour of that oldtavern in Notting Hill--you came in while I was there?"

"I had some idea that I remembered your face when we were introduced justnow, " said Methley. "Yes, I think I do remember--you were sitting in acorner near the hearth?"

"Just so, " agreed Viner. "And I heard you ask the landlord a questionabout a gentleman whom you used to meet there sometimes--you left somespecimen cigars with the landlord for him. "

"Yes, " assented Methley wonderingly. 

"You never knew that man's name?" continued Viner. "Nor who he was? Justso--so I gathered. Then I'll tell you. There was a good reason why he hadnot been to that tavern for some nights. He was John Ashton, the man whowas murdered in Lonsdale Passage!"

Viner was watching his man with all the keenness of which he was capable, and he saw that this announcement fell on Methley as an absolutesurprise. He started as only a man can start who has astounding newsgiven to him suddenly. 

"God bless me!" he exclaimed. "You don't mean it! Of course, I know aboutthat murder--our own district. And I saw Ashton's picture in thepaper--but then there are so many elderly men of that type--broadfeatures, trimmed grey beard! Dear me, dear me! A very pleasant, genialfellow. I'm astonished, Mr. Viner. "

Viner resolved on a bold step--he would take it without consulting Mr. Pawle or anybody. He drew Methley further aside. 

"Mr. Methley, " he said. "You're a man of honour, and I trust you with asecret, to be kept until I release you from the obligation of secrecy. I have reasons for getting at the truth about Ashton's murder--so hasMr. Pawle. He and I have been making investigations and inquiries, andwe are convinced, we are positive, that these papers which your partnernow has in his pocket were stolen from Ashton's dead body--that, infact, Ashton was murdered for the possession of them. And I tell you, for your own sake--find out who this client of yours is! That he wasthe actual murderer I don't believe for a second--he is probably a merecat's-paw. But--who's behind him? If you can do anything to find outthe truth, do it!"

That Methley was astonished beyond belief was so evident that Viner wasnow absolutely convinced of his sincerity. He stood staring open-mouthedfor a moment: then he glanced at Woodlesford, who was waiting at somedistance along the corridor. 

"Mr. Viner!" he said. "You amaze me! Listen: my partner is as sound andhonest a fellow as there is in all London. Let me tell him this--I'llengage for his secrecy. If you'll consent to that, I'll see that, withouta word from us as to why, this man who claims to be the missing LordMarketstoke is brought here. If what you say is true, we are not going tobe partners to a crime. Let me tell Woodlesford--I'll answer for him. "

Viner considered this proposition for a moment. 

"Very well!" he said at last. "Tell him--I shall trust you both. Remember--it's between the three of us. I shan't say a word to Pawle, norto Carless. You know there's a man's life at stake--Hyde's! Hyde is asinnocent as I am--he's an old schoolfellow of mine. "

"I understand, " said Methley. "Very well, trust to me, Mr. Viner. "

He went off with a reassuring nod, and Viner returned to Mr. Carless'room. The three men he had left there were deep in conversation, and ashe entered, Mr. Carless smote his hand on the desk before him. 

"This is certain!" he exclaimed. "We must have this Miss Avice Wickhamhere--at once!"

CHAPTER XIX

UNDER EXAMINATION

Mr. Pawle nodded assent to this proposition and rose from his chair. 

"It's the only thing to do, " he said. "We must get to the bottom of thisas quickly as possible--whether Miss Wickham can tell us much or little, we must know what she can tell. Let us all meet here again at threeo'clock--I will send one of my clerks to fetch her. But let us be clearon one point--are we to tell this young lady what our conclusions are, regarding herself?"

"Your conclusions!" said Mr. Carless, with a sly smile. "We know nothingyet, you know, Pawle. "

"My conclusions, then, " assented Mr. Pawle. "Are we--"

Lord Ellingham quietly interrupted the old lawyer. 

"Pardon me, Mr. Pawle, " he said, "but before we go any further, do youmind telling me, briefly, what your conclusions really are!"

"I will tell your lordship in a few words, " answered Mr. Pawle, readily. "Wrong or right, my conclusions are these: From certain investigationswhich Mr. Viner and I have made since this affair began--with the murderof Ashton--and from certain evidence which we have unearthed, I believethat Ashton's friend Wickham, the father of the girl we are going toproduce this afternoon, was in reality your lordship's uncle, the missingLord Marketstoke. I believe that Ashton came to England in order to provethis, and that he was probably about to begin proceedings when he wasmurdered--for the sake of those papers which we have just seen. And Ibelieve, too, that we have not seen all the papers which were stolen fromhis dead body. What was produced to us just now by Methley andWoodlesford was a selection--the probability is that there are other andmore important papers in the hands of the murderer, whose cat's-paw oraccomplice this claimant, whoever he may be, is. I believe, " concludedMr. Pawle, with emphasis, "that my conclusions will be found to becorrect ones, based on indisputable fact. "

Lord Ellingham looked from one solicitor to the other. 

"Then, " he said, with something of a smile, "if Wickham was really myuncle, Lord Marketstoke, and this young lady you tell me of is hisdaughter--what, definitely, is my position?"

Mr. Pawle looked at Mr. Carless, and Mr. Carless shook his head. 

"If Mr. Pawle's theory is correct, " he said, "and mind you, Pawle, itwill take a lot of proving. If Mr. Pawle's theory is correct, theposition, my lord, is this. The young lady we hear of is Countess ofEllingham in her own right! She would not be the first woman to succeedto the title: there was a Countess of Ellingham in the time of George theThird. She would, of course, have to prove her claim before the House ofLords--if made good, she succeeds to titles and estates. That's the plainEnglish of it--and upon my honour, " concluded Mr. Carless, "it's one ofthe most extraordinary things I ever heard of. This other affair isnothing to it!"

Lord Ellingham again inspected the legal countenances. 

"I see nothing at all improbable about it, " he said. "We may as well facethat fact at once. I will be here at three o'clock, Mr. Carless. Iconfess I should like to meet my cousin--if she really is that!"

"Your Lordship takes it admirably!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "Butreally--well, I don't know. However, we shall see. But, 'pon my honour, it's most odd! One claimant disposed of, another, a more formidable one, comes on!"

"But we have not disposed of the first, have we?" suggested LordEllingham. 

"I don't anticipate any trouble in that quarter, " answered Mr. Carless. "As I said to those two who have just gone out--send or bring the manhere, and we'll tell in one minute if he's what he claims to be!"

"But--how?" asked Lord Ellingham. "You seem very certain. "

"Dead certain!" asserted Mr. Carless. He looked round his callers andlaughed. "I may as well tell you, " he said. "Portlethwaite drew me asideto remind me of it. The real Lord Marketstoke, if he were alive, couldeasily be identified. He lost a finger when a mere boy. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "Good--excellent! Best bit of evidence I'veheard of. Hang this claimant! Now we can tell if Wickham really was LordMarketstoke. If necessary, we can have his body exhumed and examined. "

"It was a shooting accident, " continued Mr. Carless. "He was out shootingin the park at Ellingham when a boy of fourteen or fifteen; he was usingan old muzzle-loading gun; it burst, and he lost his second finger--theright hand. It was, of course, very noticeable. Now, that small but veryimportant fact is most likely not known to Methley and Woodlesford'sclient--but it's known to Driver and to Portlethwaite and to me, and nowto all of you. If this man comes here--look at his right hand! If hepossesses his full complement of fingers, well--"

Mr. Carless ended with a significant grimace, and Mr. Pawle, noddingassent, returned to the question which he was putting when Lord Ellinghaminterrupted him. 

"Now let us settle the point I raised, " he said. "Are we to tell MissWickham what my conclusions are, or are we to leave her in ignoranceuntil we get proof that they are correct?"

"Or--incorrect!" answered Mr. Carless with an admonitory laugh. "I shouldsay--at present, tell her nothing. Let us find out all we can from her;there are several questions I should like to ask her, myself, arising outof what you have told us. Leave all the rest until a later period. Ifyour theory is correct, Pawle, it can be established, if it isn't, thegirl may as well be left in ignorance that you ever raised it. "

"Until three o'clock, then, " said Mr. Pawle. 

Three o'clock found the old lawyer and Viner pacing the pavement ofLincoln's Inn Fields in expectation of Miss Wickham's arrival. She cameat last in the taxicab which Mr. Pawle had sent for her, and her firstwords on stepping out of it were of surprise and inquiry. 

"What is it, Mr. Pawle?" she demanded as she shook hands with her twosquires. "More questions? What's it all about?"

Mr. Pawle nudged Viner's arm. 

"My dear young lady, " he answered in grave and fatherly fashion, "youmust bear in mind that a man's life is in danger. We are doing all we canto clear that unfortunate young fellow Hyde of the dreadful charge whichhas been brought against him, and to do that we must get to know all wecan about your late guardian, you know. "

"I know so little about Mr. Ashton, " said Miss Wickham, lookingapprehensively at the building towards which she was being conducted. "Where are you taking me?"

"To a solicitor's office--friends of mine, " answered Mr. Pawle. "Carlessand Driver--excellent people. Mr. Carless wants to ask you a fewquestions in the hope that your answers will give us a little more lighton Ashton's history. You needn't be afraid of Carless, " he added as theybegan to climb the stairs. "Carless is quite a pleasant fellow--and hehas with him a very amiable young gentleman, Lord Ellingham, of whom youneedn't be afraid, either. "

"And why is Lord Ellingham, whoever he may be, there?" inquired MissWickham. 

"Lord Ellingham is also interested in your late guardian, " replied Mr. Pawle. "In fact, we are all interested. So now, rub up your memory--andanswer Mr. Carless' questions. "

Viner remained in the background, quietly watching, while Mr. Pawleeffected the necessary introductions. He was at once struck by whatseemed to him an indisputable fact--between Lord Ellingham and MissWickham there was an unmistakable family likeness. And he judged from thecurious, scrutinizing look which Mr. Carless gave the two young people asthey shook hands that the same idea struck him--Mr. Carless wound up thatlook in a significant glance at Mr. Pawle, to whom he suddenly muttered afew words which Viner caught. 

"By Jove!" he whispered. "I shouldn't wonder if you're right. "

Then he placed Miss Wickham in an easy-chair on his right hand, and casta preliminary benevolent glance on her. 

"Mr. Pawle, " he began, "has told us of your relationship with the lateMr. Ashton--you always regarded him as your guardian?"

"He was my guardian, " answered Miss Wickham. "My father left me inhis charge. "

"Just so. Now, have you any recollection of your father?"

"Only very vague recollections. I was scarcely six, I think, when hedied. "

"What do you remember about him?"

"I think he was a tall, handsome man--I have some impression that hewas. I think, too, that he had a fair complexion and hair. But it's allvery vague. "

"Do you remember where you lived?"

"Only that it was in a very big town--Melbourne, of course. I haverecollections of busy streets--I remember, too, that when I left there itwas very, very hot weather. "

"Do you remember Mr. Ashton at that time?"

"Oh, yes--I remember Mr. Ashton. I had nobody else, you see; my motherhad died when I was quite little; I have no recollection whatever ofher. I remember Mr. Ashton's house, and that he used to buy me lots oftoys. His house was in a quiet part of the town, and he had a big, shady garden. "

"How long, so far as you remember, did you live with Mr. Ashton there?"

"Not very long, I think. He told me that I was to go to England, toschool. For a little time before we sailed, I lived with Mrs. Roscombe, with whom I came to England. She was very kind to me; I wasvery fond of her. "

"And who was Mrs. Roscombe?"

"I didn't know at the time, of course--I only knew she was Mrs. Roscombe. But Mr. Ashton told me, not long before his death, who she was. She wasthe widow of some government official, and she was returning to Englandin consequence of his death. So she took charge of me and brought meover. She used to visit me regularly at school, every week, and I used tospend my holidays with her until she died. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Carless. "She is dead?"

"She died two years ago, " answered Miss Wickham. 

"I wish she had been living, " observed Mr. Carless, with a glance at Mr. Pawle. "I should have liked to see Mrs. Roscombe. Well, " he continued, turning to Miss Wickham, "so Mrs. Roscombe brought you to England, toschool. What school?"

"Ryedene School. "

"Ryedene! That's one of the most expensive schools in England, isn't it?"

"I don't know. I--perhaps it is. "

"I happen to know it is, " said Mr. Carless dryly. "Two of my clients havedaughters there, now. I've seen their bills! Do you know who paid yours?"

"No, " she answered, "I don't know. Mr. Ashton, I suppose. "

"You had everything you wanted, I dare say! Clothes, pocket-money, and so on?"

"I've always had everything I wanted, " replied Miss Wickham. 

"And you were at Ryedene twelve years?"

"Except for the holidays--yes. "

"You must be a very learned young lady, " suggested Mr. Carless. 

Miss Wickham looked round the circle of attentive faces. 

"I can play tennis and hockey very well, " she said, smiling a little. "And I wasn't bad at cricket the last season or two--we played cricketthere. But I'm not up to much at anything else, except that I can talkFrench decently. "

"Physical culture, eh?" observed Mr. Carless, smiling. "Very well! Now, then, in the end Mr. Ashton came home to England, and of course came tosee you, and in due course you left school, and came to his house inMarkendale Square, where he got a Mrs. Killenhall to look after you. Allthat correct? Yes? Well, then, I think, from what Mr. Pawle tells me, Mr. Ashton handed over a lot of money to you, and told you it had beenleft to you, or left in his charge for you, by your father? That iscorrect too? Very well. Now, did Mr. Ashton never tell you anything muchabout your father?"

"No, he never did. Beyond telling me that my father was an Englishman whohad gone out to Australia and settled there, he never told me anything. But, " here Miss Wickham paused and hesitated for a while, "I have anidea, " she continued in the end, "that he meant to tell mesomething--what, I, of course, don't know. He once or twice--hinted thathe would tell me something, some day. "

"You didn't press him?" suggested Mr. Carless. 

"I don't think I am naturally inquisitive, " replied Miss Wickham. "Icertainly did not press him. I knew he'd tell me, whatever it was, inhis own way. "

"One or two other questions, " said Mr. Carless. "Do you know who yourmother was?"

"Only that she was some one whom my father met in Australia. "

"Do you know what her maiden name was?"

"No, only her Christian name; that was Catherine. She and my father areburied together. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "That is something else I was going to ask. You know where they are buried?"

"Oh, yes! Because, before we sailed, Mrs. Roscombe took me to thechurchyard, or cemetery, to see my father's and mother's grave. Iremembered that perfectly. Her own husband was buried there too, closeby. I remember how we both cried. "

Mr. Carless suddenly pointed to the ornament which Miss Wickhamwas wearing. 

"Will you take that off, and let me look at it?" he asked. "Thank you, "he said, as she somewhat surprisedly obeyed. "I believe, " he continued, as he quietly passed the ornament to Lord Ellingham, "that Mr. Ashtongave you this and told you it had belonged to your father? Just so!Well, " he concluded, handing the ornament back, "I think that's all. Muchobliged to you, Miss Wickham. You won't understand all this, but youwill, later. Now, one of my clerks will get you a car, and we'll escortyou down to it. "

"No, " said Lord Ellingham, promptly jumping to his feet. "Allow me--I'myoungest. If Miss Wickham will let me--"

The two young people went out of the room together, and the threemen left behind looked at each other. There was a brief andsignificant silence. 

"Well, Carless?" said Mr. Pawle at last. "How now?"

"'Pon my honour, " answered Mr. Carless, "I shouldn't wonder ifyou're right!"

CHAPTER XX

SURPRISING READINESS

Mr. Pawle made a gesture which seemed to denote a certain amount oftriumphant self-satisfaction. 

"I'm sure I'm right!" he exclaimed. "You'll find out that I'm right! Butthere's a tremendous lot to do, Carless. If only that unfortunate man, Ashton, had lived, he could have cleared this matter up at once. I feelconvinced that he possessed papers which would have proved this girl'sclaim beyond dispute. Those papers, of course--"

"Now, what particular papers are you thinking of?" interrupted Mr. Carless. 

"Well, " replied Mr. Pawle, "such papers as proofs of her father'smarriage, and of her own birth. According to what she told us just now, her father was married in Australia, and she herself was born there. There must be documentary proof of that. "

"Her father was probably married under his assumed name of Wickham, "observed Mr. Carless. "You'll have to prove that Wickham and LordMarketstoke were identical--were one and the same person. The fact is, Pawle, if this girl's claim is persisted in, there'll have to be a verysearching inquiry made in Australia. However much I may feel that yourtheory may be--probably is--right, I should have to advise my client, Lord Ellingham, to insist on the most complete investigation. "

"To be sure, to be sure!" assented Mr. Pawle. "That's absolutelynecessary. But my own impression is that as we get into the secret ofAshton's murder, as I make no doubt we shall, there will be more evidenceforthcoming. Now, as regards this man, whoever he is, who claims to bethe missing Lord Marketstoke--"

At that moment a clerk entered the room and glanced at Mr. Carless. 

"Telephone message from Methley and Woodlesford, sir, " he announced. "Mr. Methley's compliments, and if agreeable to you, he can bring his clienton to see you this afternoon--at once, if convenient. "

Mr. Carless looked at Mr. Pawle, and Mr. Pawle nodded a silent assent. 

"Tell Mr. Methley it's quite agreeable and convenient, " answered Mr. Carless. "I shall be glad to see them both--at once. Um!" he mutteredwhen the clerk had withdrawn. "Somewhat sudden, eh, Pawle? You mightalmost call it suspicious alacrity. Evidently the gentleman has no fearof meeting us!"

"You may be quite certain, Carless, if my theory about the whole thing isa sound theory, that the gentleman will have no fear of meeting anybody, not even a judge and jury!" answered Mr. Pawle sardonically. "If Iapprehend things rightly, he'll have been very carefully coached andprepared. "

"You think there's a secret conspiracy behind all this?" suggested Mr. Carless. "With this claimant as cat's-paw--well tutored to his task?"

"I do!" affirmed Mr. Pawle. "Emphatically, I do!"

"Aye, well!" said Mr. Carless. "Don't forget what I told you about themissing finger--middle finger of the right hand. And I'll have Driver inhere, and Portlethwaite, too; we'll see if he knows which is which of thethree of us. I'll go and prepare them. "

He returned presently with his partner, a quiet, elderly man; a fewminutes later Portlethwaite, evidently keenly interested, joined them. They and Mr. Pawle began to discuss certain legal matters connectedwith the immediate business, and Viner purposely withdrew to a cornerof the room, intent on silently watching whatever followed on thearrival of the visitors. A quarter of an hour later Methley was showninto the room, and the five men gathered there turned with one accordto look at his companion, a tall, fresh-coloured, slightly grey-hairedman of distinctly high-bred appearance, who, Viner saw at once, wasmuch more self-possessed and assured in manner than any of the men whorose to meet him. 

"My client, Mr. Cave, who claims to be Earl of Ellingham, " said Methley, by way of introduction. "Mr. Car--"

But the other man smiled quietly and immediately assumed a lead. 

"There is no need of introduction, Mr. Methley, " he said. "I remember allthree gentlemen perfectly! Mr. Carless--Mr. Driver--and--yes, to be sure, Mr. Portlethwaite! I have a good memory for faces. " He bowed to each manas he named him, and smiled again. "Whether these gentlemen remember meas well as I remember them, " he remarked, "is another question!"

"May I offer you a chair?" said Mr. Carless. 

The visitor bowed, sat down, and took off his gloves. And in the silencewhich followed, Viner saw that the eyes of Driver, Carless, Pawle andPortlethwaite were all steadily directed on the claimant's righthand--he himself turned to it, too, with no small interest. The nextinstant he was conscious that an atmosphere of astonishment and surprisehad been set up in that room. For the middle finger of the man's righthand was missing!

Viner felt, rather than saw, that the three solicitors and the elderlyclerk were exchanging glances of amazement. And he fancied that Mr. Carless' voice, which had sounded cold and noncommittal as he offered thevisitor a seat, was somewhat uncertain when he turned to address him. 

"You claim, sir, to be the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared so many yearsago?" he asked, eyeing the claimant over. 

"I claim to be exactly what I am, Mr. Carless, " answered the visitorwith another ready and pleasant smile. "I hope your memory will come toyour aid. "

"When a man has disappeared--absolutely--for something like thirty-fiveyears, " remarked Mr. Carless, "those whom he has left behind may well beexcused if their memories don't readily respond to sudden demands. But Ishould like to ask you some questions? Did you see the advertisementswhich were issued, broadcast, at the time of the seventh Earl ofEllingham's death?"

"Yes--in several English and Colonial papers, " answered the claimant. 

"Why did you not reply to them?"

"At that time I still persevered in my intention of never again havinganything to do with my old life. I had no desire--at all--to come forwardand claim my rights. So I took no notice of your advertisements. "

"And since then--of late, to be exact--you have changed your mind?"suggested Mr. Carless dryly. 

"To a certain extent only, " replied the visitor, whose calm assurance wasevidently impressing the legal practitioners around him. "I have alreadytold Mr. Methley and his partner, Mr. Woodlesford, that I have no desireto assume my title nor to require possession of the estates which arecertainly mine. I have lived a free life too long to wish for--what Ishould come in for if I established my claim. But I have a right to ashare in the property which I quite willingly resign to my nephew--"

"In plain language, " said Mr. Carless, "if you are paid a certainconsiderable sum of money, you will vanish again into the obscurity fromwhence you came? Am I right in that supposition?"

"I don't like your terminology, Mr. Carless, " answered the visitor with aslight frown. "I have not lived in obscurity, and--"

"If you are what you claim to be, sir, you are Earl of Ellingham, " saidMr. Carless firmly, "and I may as well tell you at once that if you proveto us that you are, your nephew, who now holds title and estates, will atonce relinquish both. There will be no bargaining. It is all or nothing. Our client, whom we know as Earl of Ellingham, is not going to traffic. If you are what you claim to be, you are head of the family and must takeyour place. "

"We could have told you that once for all, if you had come to us in thefirst instance, " remarked Mr. Driver. "Any other idea is out of thequestion. It seems to me most remarkable that such a notion as that whichyou suggest should ever enter your head, sir. If you are Earl ofEllingham, you are!"

"And that reminds me, " said Mr. Carless, "that there is anotherquestion I should like to ask. Why, knowing that we have been legaladvisers to your family for several generations, did you not comestraight to us, instead of going--Mr. Methley, I'm sure, will pardonme--to a firm of solicitors which, as far as I know, has never had anyconnection with it!"

"I thought it best to employ absolutely independent advice, " replied thevisitor. "And I still think I was right. For example, you evidently donot admit my claim?"

"We certainly admit nothing, at present!" declared Mr. Carless with alaugh. "It would be absurd to expect it. The proofs which your solicitorsshowed us this morning are no proofs at all. That those papers belongedto the missing Lord Marketstoke there is no doubt, but your possession ofthem at present does not prove that you are Lord Marketstoke or LordEllingham. They may have been stolen!"

The claimant rose from his chair with a good deal of dignity. He glancedat Methley. 

"I do not see that any good can come of this interview, Mr. Methley, " heremarked in quiet, level tones. "I am evidently to be treated as animpostor. In that case, "--he bowed ceremoniously to the men gatheredaround Mr. Carless' desk--"I think it best to withdraw. "

Therewith he walked out of the room; and Methley, after a quiet word withCarless, followed--to be stopped in the corridor, for a second time thatday, by Viner, who had hurried after him. 

"I'm not going to express any opinion on what we've just heard, "whispered Viner, drawing Methley aside, "but in view of what I told youthis morning, there's something I want you to do for me. "

"Yes!" said Methley. "What?"

"That unlucky fellow Hyde, who is on remand, is to be brought before themagistrate tomorrow morning, " answered Viner. "Get him--this claimantthere, to attend the court as a spectator--go with him! Use any argumentyou like, but get him there! I've a reason--which I'll explain later. "

"I'll do my best, " promised Methley. "And I've an idea of what's on yourmind. You want to find out if Hyde can recognize him as the man whom hemet at the Markendale Square end of Lonsdale Passage?"

"Well, that is my idea!" assented Viner. "So get him there. "

Methley nodded and turned away; then he turned back and pointed atCarless' room. 

"What do they really think in there?" he whispered. "Tell me--betweenourselves?"

"That he is an impostor, and that there's a conspiracy, " replied Viner. 

Methley nodded again, and Viner went back. The men whom he had left weretalking excitedly. 

"It was the only course to take!" Mr. Carless was declaring. "Uncompromising hostility! We could do no other. You saw--quitewell--that he was all for money. I will engage that we could have settledwith him for one half of what he asked. But--who is he?"

"The middle finger of his right hand is gone!" said Mr. Pawle, who hadbeen very quiet and thoughtful during the recent proceedings. "Rememberthat, Carless!"

"A most extraordinary coincidence!" exclaimed Mr. Carless excitedly. "Idon't care twopence what anybody says--we all know that the mostsurprising coincidences do occur. Nothing but a coincidence! Iassert--what is it, Portlethwaite?"

The elderly clerk had been manifesting a strong desire to get in a word, and he now rapped his senior employer's elbow. 

"Mr. Carless, " he said earnestly, "you know that before I came to you, now nearly forty years ago, I was a medical student: you know, too, youand Mr. Driver, why I gave up medicine for the law. But--I haven'tforgotten all of that I learned in the medical schools and thehospitals. "

"Well, Portlethwaite, " demanded Mr. Carless, "what is it? You'vesome idea?"

"Gentlemen, " answered the elderly clerk. "I was always particularlyinterested in anatomy in my medical student days. I've been lookingattentively at what I could see of that man's injured finger since he satdown at that desk. And I'll lay all I have that he lost the two joints ofthat finger within the last three months! The scar over the stump had notlong been healed. That's a fact!"

Mr. Carless looked round with a triumphant smile. 

"There!" he exclaimed. "What did I tell you? Coincidence--nothing butcoincidence!"

But Portlethwaite shook his head. 

"Why not say design, Mr. Carless?" he said meaningly. "Why not saydesign? If this man, or the people who are behind him, knew that the realLord Marketstoke had a finger missing, what easier--in view of the stakethey're playing for--than to remove one of this man's fingers? Design, sir, design. All part of the scheme!"

The elderly clerk's listeners looked at each other. 

"I'll tell you what it is!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle with sudden emphasis. "The more we see and hear of this affair, the more I'm convinced that itis, as Portlethwaite says, a conspiracy. You know, that fellow who hasjust been here was distinctly taken aback when you, Carless, informed himthat it was going to be a case of all or nothing. He--or the folk behindhim--evidently expected that they'd be able to effect a money settlement. Now, I should say that the real reason of his somewhat hasty retirementwas that he wanted to consult his principal or principals. Did you noticethat he was not really affronted by your remark? Not he! His personaldignity wasn't ruffled a bit. He was taken aback! He's gone off toconsult. Carless, you ought to have that man carefully shadowed, to seewhere and to whom he goes. "

"Good idea!" muttered Mr. Driver. "We might see to that. "

"I can put a splendid man on to him, at once, Mr. Carless, " remarkedPortlethwaite. "If you could furnish me with his address--"

"Methley and Woodlesford know it, " said Mr. Carless. "Um--yes, that mightbe very useful. Ring Methley's up, Portlethwaite, and ask if they wouldoblige us with the name of Mr. Cave's hotel--some residential hotel inLancaster Gate, I believe. "

Mr. Pawle and Viner went away, ruminating over the recent events, andwalked to the old lawyer's offices in Bedford Row. Mr. Pawle's ownparticular clerk met them as they entered. 

"There's Mr. Roland Perkwite, of the Middle Temple, in your room, sir, "he said, addressing his master. "You may remember him, sir--we've briefedhim once or twice in some small cases. Mr. Perkwite wants to see youabout this Ashton affair--he says he's something to tell you. "

Mr. Pawle looked at Viner and beckoned him to follow. 

"Here a little, and there a little!" he whispered. "What are we going tohear this time?"

CHAPTER XXI

THE MARSEILLES MEETING

The man who was waiting in Mr. Pawle's room, and who rose from his chairwith alacrity as the old lawyer entered with Viner at his heels, was analert, sharp-eyed person of something under middle-age, whoseclean-shaven countenance and general air immediately suggested the LawCourts. And he went straight to business before he had released the handwhich Mr. Pawle extended to him. 

"Your clerk has no doubt already told you what I came about, Mr. Pawle?"he said. "This Ashton affair. "

"Just so, " answered Mr. Pawle. "You know something about it? Thisgentleman is Mr. Richard Viner, who is interested in it--considerably. "

"To be sure, " said the barrister. "One of the witnesses, of course. Iread the whole thing up last night. I have been on the Continent--theFrench Riviera, Italy, the Austrian Tyrol--for some time, Mr. Pawle, andonly returned to town yesterday. I saw something, in an Englishnewspaper, in Paris, the other day, about this Ashton business, and as myclerk keeps the _Times_ for me when I am absent, last night I read overthe proceedings before the magistrate and before the coroner. And ofcourse I saw your request for information about Ashton and his recentmovements. "

"And you've some to give?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"I have some to give, " assented Mr. Perkwite, as the three men sat downby Mr. Pawle's desk. "Certainly--and I should say it's of considerableimportance. The fact is I met Ashton at Marseilles, and spent the betterpart of the week in his company at the Hotel de Louvre there. "

"When was that?" asked Mr. Pawle. 

"About three months ago, " replied the barrister. "I had gone straight toMarseilles from London; he had come there from Italy by way of MonteCarlo and Nice. We happened to get into conversation on the night of myarrival, and we afterwards spent most of our time together. And findingout that I was a barrister, he confided certain things to me and askedmy advice. "

"Aye--and on what, now?" enquired the old lawyer. 

"It was the last night we were together, " replied Mr. Perkwite. "We hadby that time become very friendly, and I had promised to renew ouracquaintance on my return to London, where, Ashton told me, he intendedto settle down for the rest of his life. Now on that last evening atMarseilles I had been telling him, after dinner, of some curious legalcases, and he suddenly remarked that he would like to tell me of a matterwhich might come within the law, and on which he should be glad ofadvice. He then asked me if I had ever heard of the strange disappearanceof Lord Marketstoke, heir to the seventh Earl of Ellingham. I repliedthat I had at the time when application was made to the courts for leaveto presume Lord Marketstoke's death. 

"Thereupon, pledging me to secrecy for the time being, Ashton went onto tell me that Lord Marketstoke was well known to him and that healone knew all the facts of the matter, though a certain amount of themwas known to another man, now living in London. He said thatMarketstoke, after a final quarrel with his father, left England insuch a fashion that no one could trace him, taking with him the fortunewhich he had inherited from his mother, and eventually settled inAustralia, where he henceforth lived under the name of Wickham. According to Ashton, he and Marketstoke became friends, close friends, at a very early period of Marketstoke's career in Australia, and thefriendship deepened and existed until Marketstoke's death some twelveor thirteen years ago. But Ashton never had the slightest notion ofMarketstoke's real identity until his friend's last days. ThenMarketstoke told him the plain truth; and the fact who he really was atthe same time was confided to another man--who, however, was not toldall the details which were given to Ashton. 

"Now, Marketstoke had married in Australia. His wife was dead. But he hada daughter who was about six years of age at the time of her father'sdeath. Marketstoke confided her to Ashton, with a wish that she should besent home to England to be educated. He also handed over to Ashton aconsiderable sum of money for this child. Further, he gave him a quantityof papers, letters, family documents, and so on. He had a purpose. Heleft it to Ashton--in whom he evidently had the most absoluteconfidence--as to whether this girl's claim to the title and estatesshould be set up. And when Ashton had finished telling me all this, Ifound that one of his principal reasons in coming to England to settledown, was the wish to find out how things were with the present holder ofthe title: if, he said, he discovered that he was a worthy sort of youngfellow, he, Ashton, should be inclined to let the secret die with him. Hetold me that the girl already had some twelve thousand pounds of her own, and that it was his intention to leave her the whole of his own fortune, and as she was absolutely ignorant of her real position, he might perhapsleave her so. But in view of the possibility of his setting up her claim, he asked me some questions on legal points, and of course I asked him tolet me see the papers of which he had spoken. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle, with a sigh of relieved satisfaction. "Thenyou saw them?"

"Yes--he showed me the whole lot, " replied Mr. Perkwite. "Not so many, after all--those that were really pertinent, at any rate. He carriedthose in a pocketbook; had so carried them, he told me, ever sinceMarketstoke had handed them to him; they had never, he added, been out ofhis possession, day or night, since Marketstoke's death. Now, onexamining the papers, I at once discovered two highly important facts. Although Marketstoke went to and lived in Australia under the name ofWickham, he had taken good care to get married in his own proper name, and there, amongst the documents, was the marriage certificate, in whichhe was correctly described. Further, his daughter had been correctlydesignated in the register of her birth; there was a copy, properlyattested, of the entry. "

Mr. Pawle glanced at Viner, and Viner knew what he was thinking of. Thetwo documents just described by Mr. Perkwite had not been among thepapers which Methley and Woodlesford had exhibited at Carless &Driver's office. 

"A moment, " said Mr. Pawle, lifting an arresting finger. "Did you happento notice where this marriage took place?"

"It was not in Melbourne, " replied Mr. Perkwite. 

"My recollection is that it was at some place of a curious name. Ashtontold me that Marketstoke's wife had been a governess in the family ofsome well-to-do-sheep-farmer--she was an English girl, and an orphan. Thechild, however, was certainly born in Melbourne and registered inMelbourne. "

"Now, that's odd!" remarked Mr. Pawle. "You'd have thought that when LordMarketstoke was so extensively advertised for some years ago, on thedeath of his father, some of these officials--"

"Ah! I put that point to Ashton, " interrupted Mr. Perkwite. "He said thatMarketstoke, though he had taken good care to be married in his own nameand had exercised equal precaution about his daughter, had pledgedeverybody connected with his marriage and the child's birth to secrecy. "

"Aye!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "He would do that, of course. But continue. "

"Well, " said the barrister, "after seeing these papers, I had no doubtwhatever that the case as presented by Ashton was quite clear, and thathis ward Miss Avice Wickham is without doubt Countess of Ellingham (thetitle, I understand, going in the female as well as the male line) andrightful owner of the estates. And I told him that his best plan, onreaching England, was to put the whole matter before the familysolicitors. However, he said that before doing that, there were twothings he wanted to do. One was to find out for himself how thingswere--if the young earl was a satisfactory landlord and so on, andlikely to be a credit to the family; the other was that he wanted toconsult the man who shared with him the bare knowledge that the man whohad been known in Melbourne as Wickham was really the missing LordMarketstoke. And he added that he had already telegraphed to this man tomeet him in Paris. "

"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle with a look in Viner's direction. "Now we areindeed coming to something! He was to meet him in Paris! Viner, I'll wagerthe world against a China orange that that's the man whom Armitstead sawin company with Ashton in the Rue Royale, and--no doubt--the man ofLonsdale Passage! Mr. Perkwite, this is most important. Did Ashton tellyou the name of this man?"

The old lawyer was tremulous with excited interest, and Mr. Perkwite wasobviously sorry to disappoint him. 

"Unfortunately, he did not!" he replied. "He merely told me that he was aman who had lived in Melbourne for some time and had known Marketstokeand himself very intimately--had left Melbourne just after Marketstoke'sdeath, and had settled in London. No, he did not mention his name. "

"Disappointing!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "That's the nearest approach to aclue that we've had, Perkwite. If we only knew who that man was!But--what more can you tell us?"

"Nothing more, I'm afraid, " answered the barrister. "I promised to callon Ashton when I returned to London, and when he'd started housekeeping, and we parted--I went on next morning to Genoa, and he set off for Paris. He was a pleasant, kindly, sociable fellow, " concluded Mr. Perkwite, "andI was much grieved to hear of his sad fate. "

"He didn't correspond with you at all after you left him at Marseilles?"asked Mr. Pawle. 

"No, " replied the barrister. "No--I never heard of or from him until Iread of his murder. "

Pawle turned to Viner. 

"I think we'd better tell Perkwite of all that's happened, within our ownken, " he said, and proceeded to give the visitor a brief account of thevarious important details. "Now, " he concluded, "it seems to me there'sonly one conclusion to be arrived at. The man who shared the secret withAshton is certainly the man whom Armitstead saw with him in Paris. He isprobably the man whom Hyde saw leaving Londsdale Passage, just beforeHyde found the body. And he is without doubt the murderer, and is the manto whom this claimant fellow is acting as cat's-paw. And--who is he?"

"There must be some way of finding that out, " observed Mr. Perkwite. "Ifyour theory is correct, that this claimant is merely a man who is beingput forward, then surely the thing to do is to get at the person orpersons behind him, through him!"

"Aye, there's that to be thought of, " asserted Mr. Pawle. "But it may bea tougher job than we think for. It would have been a tremendous help ifAshton had only mentioned a name to you. "

"Sorry, but he didn't, " said Mr. Perkwite. "You feel, " he continued aftera moment's silence, "you feel that this affair of the Ellinghamsuccession lies at the root of the Ashton mystery--that he was reallymurdered by somebody who wanted to get possession of those papers?"

"And to remain sole repository of the secret, " declared Mr. Pawle. "Isn'tit established that beyond yourself and this unknown man nobody butAshton knew the secret?"

"There is another matter, though, " remarked Viner. He turned to thevisitor. "You said that you and Ashton became very friendly andconfidential during your stay in Marseilles. Pray, did he never show youanything of a valuable nature which he carried in his pocketbook?"

The barrister's keen eyes suddenly lighted up with recollection. 

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Now you come to suggest it, he did! A diamond!"

"Ah!" said Mr. Pawle. "So you saw that!"

"Yes, I saw it, " assented Mr. Perkwite. "He showed it to me as a sort ofcuriosity--a stone which had some romantic history attaching to it. But Iwas not half as much interested in that as in the other affair. "

"All the same, " remarked Mr. Pawle, "that diamond is worth some fifty orsixty thousand pounds, Perkwite--and it's missing!"

Mr. Perkwite looked his astonishment. 

"You mean--he had it on him when he was murdered?" he asked. 

"So it's believed, " replied Mr. Pawle. 

"In that case it might form a clue, " said the barrister. 

"When it's heard of, " admitted Mr. Pawle, with a grim smile. "Nottill then!"

"From what we have heard, " remarked Viner, "Ashton carried thatdiamond in the pocketbook which contained his papers--the papers youhave told me of, and some of which have certainly come into possessionof this claimant person. Now, whoever stole the papers, of course gotthe diamond. "

Mr. Perkwite seemed to consider matters during a moment's silence;finally he turned to the old lawyer. 

"I have been thinking over something that might be done, " he said. "I seethat the coroner's inquest was adjourned. Now, as that inquest is, ofcourse, being held to inquire into the circumstances of Ashton's death, Isuggest that I should come forward as a witness and should prove thatAshton showed certain papers relating to the Ellingham peerage to me atMarseilles; I can tell the story, as a witness. It can then be proved byyou, or by Carless, that a man claiming to be the missing LordMarketstoke showed these stolen papers to you. In the meantime, get thecoroner to summon this man as a witness, and take care that he's broughtto the court. Once there, let him be asked how he came into possession ofthese papers? Do you see my idea?"

"Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "An excellent notion! Much obliged toyou, Perkwite. It shall be done--I'll see to it at once. Yes, to be sure, that will put this fellow in a tight corner. "

"Don't be surprised if he hasn't some very clever explanation to give, "said the barrister warningly. "The whole thing is evidently awell-concocted conspiracy. But when is the adjourned inquest?"

"Day after tomorrow, " replied Mr. Pawle, after glancing at hisdesk-diary. 

"And tomorrow morning, " remarked Viner, "Hyde comes up before themagistrate again, on remand. "

He was half-minded to tell Mr. Pawle there and then of his secretdealings with Methley that day, but on reflection he decided that hewould keep the matter to himself. Viner had an idea which he had notcommunicated even to Methley. It had struck him that the mysterious_deux ex machina_ who was certainly at the back of all this businessmight not improbably be so anxious about his schemes that he would, unknown and unsuspected, attend the magistrates' court. Would Hyde, hiswits sharpened by danger, be able to spot him as the muffled man ofLonsdale Passage?

CHAPTER XXII

ON REMAND

When Langton Hyde was brought up before the magistrate next morning, thecourt was crowded to its utmost limits; and Viner, looking round him fromhis seat near the solicitors' table saw that most of the peopleinterested in the case were present. Mr. Carless was whispering with Mr. Pawle; Lord Ellingham had a seat close by; in the front of the publicgallery Miss Penkridge, grim and alert, was in charge of the timid andshrinking sisters of the unfortunate prisoner. There, too, were Mr. Armitstead and Mr. Isidore Rosenbaum, and Mr. Perkwite, all evidentlyvery much alive to certain possibilities. But Viner looked in vain foreither Methley or Woodlesford or their mysterious client; they werecertainly not present when Hyde was put into the dock, and Viner began towonder if the events of the previous day had warned Mr. Cave and thosebehind him to avoid publicity. 

Instructed by Viner, who was determined to spare neither effort normoney to clear his old schoolmate, Felpham had engaged the servicesof one of the most brilliant criminal barristers of the day, Mr. Millington-Bywater, on behalf of his client; and he and Viner had sat uphalf the night with him, instructing him in the various mysteries andramifications of the case. A big, heavy-faced, shrewd-eyed man, Mr. Millington-Bywater made no sign, and to all outward appearance showed novery great interest while the counsel who now appeared on behalf of thepolice, completed his case against the prisoner. 

The only new evidence produced by the prosecution was that of thegreengrocer on whose premises Hyde had admitted that he passed most ofthe night of the murder, and in whose shed the missing valuables had beenfound. The greengrocer's evidence as to his discovery was given in aplain and straightforward fashion--he was evidently a man who would justtell what he actually saw, and brought neither fancy nor imagination tobear on his observation. But when the prosecution had done with him, Mr. Millington-Bywater rose and quietly asked the police to produce thewatch, chain and ring which the greengrocer had found, in their originalwrappings. He held up the wrapping-papers to the witness and asked him ifhe could swear that this was what he had found the valuables in and hadgiven to the police. The greengrocer was positive as to this; he waspositive, too, that the other wrappings which Felpham had carefullypreserved were those which had been on the outside of the parcel and hadbeen thrown aside by himself on its discovery and afterwards picked up byViner. Mr. Millington-Bywater handed all these papers up to themagistrate, directing his attention to the strong odour of drugs orchemicals which still pervaded them, and to the address of themanufacturing chemists which appeared on the outer wrapping. Themagistrate seemed somewhat mystified. 

"What is the object of this?" he asked, glancing at the defendingcounsel. "It is admitted that these are the wrappings in which the watch, and chain and ring were found in the witness's shed, but"--he paused, with another inquiring look--"you propose to--what?" he asked. 

"I propose, Your Worship, to prove that these things were never put thereby the prisoner at all!" answered Mr. Millington-Bywater, promptly andwith an assurance which was not lost on the spectators. "I intend to showthat they were purposely placed in that outhouse by the real murderer ofJohn Ashton after the statement made by the prisoner at the inquestbecame public--placed there, of course, to divert any possible suspicionof himself. 

"And now, " he continued, after the greengrocer had left the box and theprosecuting counsel had intimated that he had no more evidence to bringforward at present, "now I will outline the defence which I shall set upon behalf of my client. I intend to prove that John Ashton was murderedby some man not yet discovered, who killed him in order to gainpossession of certain papers which he carried on him--papers of extremeimportance, as will be shown. We know where certain of those papers are, and we hope before very long to know where the rest are, and alsowhere a certain very valuable diamond is, which the murdered man hadon him at the time of his death. I shall, indeed, prove that theprisoner--certainly through his own foolishness--is wrongly accused. Itwill be within your worship's recollection that when the prisoner wasfirst before you, he very unwisely refused to give his name and addressor any information--he subsequently repented of that and made astatement, not only to the police but before the coroner. Now, I proposeto put him into that box so that he may give evidence, and I shall thencall certain witnesses who will offer evidence which will go to provethat what I say as regards the murder of Ashton is more thanprobable--namely, that he was murdered for the sake of the documents hehad on him, and that the spoiling of his money and valuables was a merepiece of bluff, intended to mislead. Let the prisoner go into the box!"

There was a continued deep silence in court while Hyde, underexamination, repeated the story which he had told to Viner and Drillfordand before the coroner and his jury. It was a plain, consecutive story, in which he set forth the circumstances preceding the evening of themurder and confessed his picking up of the ring which lay on the pavementby Ashton's body. He kept his eyes steadily fixed on Mr. Millington-Bywater under this examination, never removing them from himsave when the magistrate interposed with an occasional remark orquestion. But at one point a slight commotion in court caused him to lookamong the spectators, and Viner, following the direction of his eyes, sawhim start, and at the same instant saw what it was that he started at. Methley, followed by the claimant, was quietly pushing a way through thethrong between the door and the solicitor's table. 

Viner leaned closer to Mr. Pawle. 

"Do you see?" he whispered. "Hyde evidently recognizes one of those two!Now--which?"

Mr. Pawle glanced at the prisoner. Hyde's face, hitherto pale, hadflushed a little, and his eyes had grown bright; he looked as if he hadsuddenly seen a friend's face in a hostile crowd. But Mr. Millington-Bywater, who had been bending over his papers, suddenly lookedup with another question, and Hyde again turned his attention to him. 

"All that you really know of this matter, " asked Mr. Millington-Bywater, "is that you chanced to turn up Lonsdale Passage, saw a man lying on thepavement and a ring close by, and that, being literally starving anddesperate, you snatched up that ring and ran away as fast as you could?"

"Yes--that is all, " asserted Hyde. "Except that I had met a man, as Ihave already told you, at the end of the passage by which I entered. "

"You did not even know whether this man lying on the pavement wasalive or dead?"

"I thought he might be drunk, " replied Hyde. "But after I had snatched upthe ring I never thought at all until I had run some distance. I wasafraid of being followed. "

"Now why were you afraid of being followed?"

"I was famishing!" answered Hyde. "I knew I could get something, somemoney, on that ring, in the morning, and I wanted to stick to it. I wasafraid that the man whom I met as I ran out of the passage, whom I nowknow to have been Mr. Viner, might follow me and make me give up thering. And the ring meant food. "

Mr. Millington-Bywater let this answer sink into the prevalent atmosphereand suddenly turned to another matter. The knife which had been found inHyde's possession was lying with certain other exhibits on thesolicitor's table, and Mr. Millington-Bywater pointed to it. 

"Now about that knife, " he said. "It is yours? Very well--how long haveyou had it?"

"Three or four years, " replied Hyde, promptly. "I bought it when I wastouring in the United States, at a town called Guthrie, in Oklahoma. And, " he added suddenly and with a triumphant smile as of a man who isunexpectedly able to clinch an argument, "there is a gentleman there whowas with me when I bought it--Mr. Nugent Starr!"

From the magistrate on his bench to the policeman at the door everyperson in court turned to look at the man to whom the prisoner pointed anout-stretched finger. And Mr. Pawle let out an irrepressible exclamation. 

"Good God!" he said. "The claimant fellow!"

But Viner said nothing. He was staring, as everybody else was, at the manwho sat by Methley. He, suddenly aware that Hyde had pointed to him, wasobviously greatly taken aback and embarrassed--he looked sharply at theprisoner, knitted his brows, shook his head, and turning to Methleymuttered something which no one else caught. Mr. Millington-Bywaterlooked at him and turned to his client. 

"You say there is a gentleman here--that gentleman!--who was with youwhen you bought that knife?" he asked. "A friend of yours, then?"

"Well--we were playing in the same company, " asserted Hyde. "Mr. Moreby-Bannister's company. He was heavy lead--I was juvenile. He knowsme well enough. He was with me when I bought that knife in a hardwarestore in Guthrie. "

The magistrate's eye was on the man who sat by Methley, and there was acertain amount of irritation in it. And suddenly Methley whisperedsomething to his companion and the man shyly but with a noticeablecomposure stood up. 

"I beg Your Worship's pardon, " he said, quietly, with a polite bow to thebench, "but really, the witness is under a mistaken impression! I don'tknow him, and I have never been in the town he mentions--in fact, I havenever been in the United States. I am very sorry, but, really, there issome strange mistake--I--the witness is an absolute stranger to me!"

The attention of all present was transferred to Hyde. And Hyde flushed, leaned forward over the ledge of the witness-box and gave the claimant along, steady stare. 

"No mistake at all!" he suddenly exclaimed in a firm voice. "That's Mr. Nugent Starr! I played with him for over twelve months. "

While this had been going on, Felpham on one side, and Carless on theother, had been whispering to Mr. Millington-Bywater, who listened toboth with growing interest, and began to nod to each with increasingintelligence--and then, suddenly, the prosecuting counsel playedunexpectedly and directly into his hand. 

"If Your Worship pleases, " said the prosecuting counsel, "I shouldlike to have the prisoner's assertion categorically denied--it may beof importance. Perhaps this gentleman will go into the box and denyit on oath. "

Mr. Millington-Bywater sat down as quickly as if a heavy hand had forcedhim into his seat, and Viner saw a swift look of gratification cross hisfeatures. Close by, Mr. Pawle chuckled with joy. 

"By the Lord Harry!" he whispered, "the very thing we wanted! Noneed to wait for the adjourned coroner's inquest, Viner--thething'll come out now!"

Viner did not understand. He saw Hyde turned out of the box; he saw theclaimant, after an exchange of remarks with Methley, step into it; heheard him repeat on oath the denial he had just uttered, after statingthat his name was Cave, and that he lived at the Belmead Hotel, LancasterGate; and he saw Mr. Millington-Bywater, after exchanging a few questionsand answers in whispers with Hyde over the ledge of the dock, turn to thewitness as he was about to step down. 

"A moment, sir, " he said. "I want to ask you a few questions, with thepermission of His Worship, who will soon see that they are verypertinent. So, " he went on, "you reside at the Belmead Hotel, inLancaster Gate, and your name is Edward Cave?"

"At present, " answered the witness, stiffly. 

"Do you mean that your name is Edward Cave--at present?"

"My name is Edward Cave, and at present I live--as I have stated, "replied the witness with dignity. 

"You have just stated, on oath, that you are not Nugent Starr, have neverbeen so called, don't know the prisoner, never met him in America, havenever set foot in America! Now, then--mind, you're on your oath!--isEdward Cave your real or full name?"

"Well, strictly speaking, " answered the witness, after some hesitation, "no, it is not. My full name is Cave-Gray--my family name; but for thepresent--"

"For the present you wish to be called Mr. Cave. Now, sir, are you notthe person who claims to be the rightful Earl of Ellingham?"

A murmur of excited interest ran round the court, and everybodyrecognized that a new stage of the case had been entered upon. Every eye, especially the observant eyes on the bench, were fixed on the witness, who now looked considerably ruffled. He glanced at Methley--but Methleysat with averted look and made no sign; he looked at the magistrate; themagistrate, it was plain, expected the question to be answered. And theanswer came, almost sullenly. 

"Yes, I am!"

"That is to say, you are really--or you claim to be really--the LordMarketstoke who disappeared from England some thirty-five years ago, andyou have now returned, though you are legally presumed to be dead, toassert your rights to titles and estates? You absolutely claim to be theninth Earl of Ellingham?"

"Yes!"

"Where have you been during the last thirty-five years?"

"In Australia. "

"What part?"

"Chiefly in Melbourne. But I was for four or five years up-country. "

"What name did you go under there?"

Mr. Pawle, Mr. Carless and the rest of the spectators who were in thesesecrets regarded the witness with keen attention when this question wasput to him. But his answer came promptly. 

"At first, under the name of Wickham. Later under the one I nowuse--Cave. "

"Did you marry out there?"

"Never!"

"And so, of course, you never had a daughter?"

"I have never been married and have never had daughter or son!"

Mr. Millington-Bywater turned to Mr. Carless, at his left elbow, andexchanged two or three whispered remarks with him. At last he lookedround again at the witness. 

"Yesterday, " he said, "in your character of claimant to the Ellinghamtitle and estates you showed to Messrs. Carless & Driver, of Lincoln'sInn Fields, and to the present holder of the title, certain documents, letters, papers, which would go some way toward establishing your claimto be what you profess to be. Now, I will say at once that we believethese papers to have been stolen from the body of John Ashton when he wasmurdered. And I will ask you a direct question, on your oath! Have thosepapers always been in your possession since you left England thirty-fiveyears ago?"

The witness drew himself up and looked steadily at his questioner. 

"No!" he answered firmly. "They were stolen from me almost as soon as Iarrived in Australia. I have only just regained possession of them. "

CHAPTER XXIII

IS THIS MAN RIGHT?

A murmur of astonishment ran through the court as the witness madehis last reply, and those most closely interested in him turned andlooked at each other with obvious amazement. And for a moment Mr. Millington-Bywater seemed to be at a loss; in the next he bent forwardtoward the witness-box and fixed the man standing there with apiercing look. 

"Do you seriously tell us, on your oath, that these papers--your papers, if you are what you claim to be--were stolen from you many years ago, andhave only just been restored to you?" he asked. "On your oath, mind!"

"I do tell you so, " answered the witness quietly. "I am on oath. "

The magistrate glanced at Mr. Millington-Bywater. 

"What is the relevancy of this--in relation to the prisoner and thecharge against him?" he inquired. "You have some point, of course?"

"The relevancy is this, Your Worship, " replied Mr. Millington-Bywater:"Our contention is that the papers referred to were until recently in thecustody of John Ashton, the murdered man--I can put a witness in the boxwho can give absolute proof of that, a highly reputable witness, who ispresent, --and that John Ashton was certainly murdered by some person orpersons who, for purposes of their own, wished to gain possession ofthem. Now, we know that they are in possession of the present witness, orrather, of his solicitors, to whom he has handed them. I mean to provethat Ashton was murdered in the way, and for the reason I suggest, andthat accordingly the prisoner is absolutely innocent of the chargebrought against him. I should therefore like to ask this witness to tellus how he regained possession of these papers, for I am convinced that inwhat he can tell us lies the secret of Ashton's murder. Now, " hecontinued, turning again to the witness as the magistrate nodded assent, "we will assume for the time being that you are what you representyourself to be--the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared from Englandthirty-five years ago. You have just heard what I said to HisWorship--about these papers, and what I put forward as regards theirconnection with the murder of John Ashton? Will you tell us how you lostthose papers, and more particularly, how you recently regained possessionof them? You see the immense, the vital importance of this to theunfortunate young fellow in the dock?"

"Who, " answered the witness with a calm smile, "is quite and utterlymistaken in thinking that he knew me in America, for I have certainlynever set foot in America, neither North nor South, in my life! I am verymuch surprised indeed to be forced into publicity as I have been thismorning--I came here as a merely curious spectator and had no ideawhatever that I should be called into this box. But if any evidence ofmine can establish, or help to establish, the prisoner's innocence, Iwill give it only too gladly. "

"Much obliged to you, sir, " said Mr. Millington-Bywater, who, in Viner'sopinion, was evidently impressed by the witness's straightforward toneand candid demeanour. 

"Well, if you will tell us--in your own way--about these papers, now--always remembering that we have absolute proof that until recentlythey were in the possession of John Ashton? Let me preface whatever youchoose to tell us with a question: Do you know that they were inpossession of John Ashton?"

"I have no more idea or knowledge of whose hands they were in, and hadbeen in, for many years, until they were restored to me, than the man inthe moon has!" affirmed the witness. "I'll tell you the wholestory--willingly: I could have told it yesterday to certain gentlemen, whom I see present, if they had not treated me as an impostor as soon asthey saw me. Well, "--here he folded his hands on the ledge of thewitness-box, and quietly fixing his eyes on the examining counsel, proceeded to speak in a calm, conversational tone--"the story is this: Ileft England about five-and-thirty years ago after certain domesticunpleasantnesses which I felt so much that I determined to give up allconnection with my family and to start an absolutely new life of my own. I went away to Australia and landed there under the name of Wickham. Ihad a certain amount of money which had come to me from my mother. Ispeculated with it on my arrival, somewhat foolishly, no doubt, and Ilost it--every penny. 

"So then I was obliged to work for my living. I went up country, and forsome time worked as a miner in the Bendigo district. I had been workingin this way perhaps fourteen months when an accident occurred in the mineat which I was engaged. There was a serious fall of earth and masonry;two or three of my fellow-workers were killed on the spot, and I wastaken up for dead. I was removed to a local hospital--there had been someserious injury to my head and spine, but I still had life in me, and Iwas brought round. But I remained in hospital, in a sort of semiconsciousstate, for a long time--months. When I went back, after my discharge, tomy quarters--nothing but a rough shanty which I had shared with manyother men--all my possessions had vanished. Among them, of course, werethe papers I had kept, and a packet of letters written to me by my motherwhen I was a schoolboy at Eton. 

"Of course, I knew at once what had happened--some one of my mates, believing me to be dead, had appropriated all my belongings and gone offwith them. There was nothing at all to be wondered at in that--it was theusual thing in such a society. And I knew there was nothing to do but toaccept my loss philosophically. "

"Did you make no effort to recover your possessions?" asked Mr. Millington-Bywater. 

"No, " answered the witness with a quiet smile. "I didn't! I knew too muchof the habits of men in mining centers to waste time in that way. A greatmany men had left that particular camp during my illness--it would havebeen impossible to trace each one. No--after all, I had left England inorder to lose my identity, and now, of course, it was gone. I went awayinto quite another part of the country--into Queensland. I began tradingin Brisbane, and I did very well there, and remained there many years. Then I went farther south, to Sydney--and I did very well there too. Itwas in Sydney, years after that, that I saw the advertisements in thenewspapers, English and Colonial, setting forth that my father was dead, and asking for news of myself. I took no notice of them--I had not theleast desire to return to England, no wish for the title, and I was quitecontent that my youngest brother should get that and the estates. So Idid nothing; nobody knew who I really was--"

"One moment!" said Mr. Millington-Bywater. "While you were at themining-camp, in the Bendigo district, did you ever reveal your secret toany of your fellow-miners?"

"Never!" answered the witness. "I never revealed it to a living souluntil I told my solicitor there, Mr. Methley, after my recent arrivalin London. "

"But of course, whoever stole your letters and so on, would discover, orguess at, the truth?" suggested Mr. Millington-Bywater. 

"Oh, of course, of course!" said the witness. "Well as I was saying, Idid nothing--except to keep an eye on the papers. I saw in due coursethat leave to presume my death had been given, and that my youngerbrother had assumed the title, and administered the estate, and I wasquite content. The fact was, I was at that time doing exceedingly well, and I was too much interested in my doings to care about what was goingon in England. All my life, " continued the witness, with a slight smile, "I have had a--I had better call it a weakness--for speculating; andwhen I had got a goodly sum of money together by my trading venture inBrisbane and Sydney, I began speculating again, in Melbourne chiefly. And--to cut my story short--last year I had one of my periodic bad turnsof fortune: I lost a lot of money. Now, I am, as you see, getting on inlife, over sixty--and it occurred to me that if I came over to Englandand convinced my nephew, the present holder of the title and estates, that I am really who I am, he would not be averse--we have always been agenerous family--to giving me enough to settle down on in Australia forthe rest of my days. Perhaps I had better say at once, since we aremaking matters so very public, that I do not want the title, nor theestate; I will be quite candid and say what I do want--enough to let melive in proper comfort in Australia, whither I shall again repair as soonas I settle my affairs here. "

Mr. Millington-Bywater glanced at the magistrate and then at the witness. 

"Well, now, these papers?" he said. "You didn't bring them to Londonwith you?"

"Of course not!" answered the witness. "I had not seen or heard of themfor thirty-two years! No I relied, on coming to this country, on otherthings to prove my identity, such as my knowledge of Marketstoke andEllingham, my thorough acquaintance with the family history, myrecollection of people I had known, like Mr. Carless, Mr. Driver, andtheir clerk, Mr. Portlethwaite, and on the fact that I lost this fingerthrough a shooting accident when I was a boy, at Ellingham. Curiously, "he added with another smile, "these things don't seem to have muchweight. But no! I had no papers when I landed here. "

"How did they come into your possession, then?" asked Mr. Millington-Bywater. "That is what we most earnestly desire to know. Letme impress upon you, sir, that this is the most serious and fatefulquestion I can possibly put to you! How did you get them?"

"And--from whom?" said the magistrate. "From whom?"

The witness shook his head. 

"I can tell you exactly how I got them, " he answered. "But I can't tellyou from whom, for I don't know! What I can tell you is this: When Iarrived at Tilbury from Melbourne, I asked a fellow-passenger with whom Icame along to London if he could tell me of a quiet, good hotel in theneighbourhood of the parks--he recommended the Belfield, in LancasterGate. I went there and put myself up, and from it I went out and about agood deal, looking up old haunts. I also lunched and dined a good manytimes at some of the new restaurants which had sprung into being since Ileft London. I mention this to show you that I was where I could be seenand noticed, as I evidently was. One afternoon, while I was sitting inthe smoking-room at my hotel, the page-boy came in with a letter on histray, approached me, and said that it had been brought by a districtmessenger. It was addressed simply, 'Mr. Cave'--the name by which I hadregistered at the hotel--and was sealed; the inclosure, on a half-sheetof note-paper, was typewritten. I have it here, " continued the witness, producing a pocketbook and taking out an envelope. "I will read itscontents, and I shall be glad to let any one concerned see it. There isno address and no date, and it says this: 'If you wish to recover thepapers and letters which were lost by you when you went into hospital atWirra-Worra, Bendigo, thirty-two years ago, be at the Speke Monument inKensington Gardens at five o'clock this afternoon. ' There was nosignature. "

Another murmur of intense and excited interest ran round the court as thewitness handed the letter up to the magistrate, who, after looking itover, passed it on to the counsel below. They, in their turn, showed itto Mr. Carless, Mr. Pawle and Lord Ellingham, Mr. Pawle, showing it toViner, whispered in his ear:

"If this man's telling the truth, " he said, "this is the mostextraordinary story I ever heard in my life. "

"It seems to me that it is the truth!" muttered Viner. "And I'm prettycertain that at last we're on the way-to finding out who killed Ashton. But let's hear the end. "

Mr. Millington-Bywater handed the letter back with a polite bow--it wasvery obvious to more than one observer that he had by this time quiteaccepted the witness as what he claimed to be. 

"You kept the appointment?" he asked. 

"I did, indeed!" exclaimed the witness. "As much out of greatly excitedcuriosity as anything! It seemed to me a most extraordinary thing thatpapers stolen from me in Australia thirty-two years ago should bereturned to me in London! Yes, I walked down to the Speke Monument. I sawno one about there but a heavily veiled woman who walked about on oneside of the obelisk while I patrolled the other. Eventually sheapproached me, and at once asked me if I had kept secret the receipt ofthe mysterious letter? I assured her that I had. She then told me thatshe was the ambassadress of the people who had my letters and papers, andwho had seen and recognized me in London and tracked me to my hotel. Shewas empowered to negotiate with me for the handing over of the papers. There were stipulations. I was to give my solemn word of honour that Iwould not follow her, or cause her to be followed. I was not to askquestions. And I was to give a post-dated check on the bank at which Ihad opened an account in London, on receipt of the papers. The check wasto be post-dated one month; it was to be made out to bearer, and theamount was ten thousand pounds. I agreed!"

"You really agreed!" exclaimed Mr. Millington-Bywater. 

"I agreed! I wanted my papers. We parted, with an agreement that we wereto meet two days later at the same place. I was there--so was the woman. She handed me a parcel, and I immediately took it to an adjacent seat andexamined it. Everything that I could remember was there, with twoexceptions. The packet of letters from my mother, to which I referredjust now, was missing; so was a certain locket, which had belonged toher, and of which I had taken great care since her death, up to the timeof my accident in the mining-camp. I pointed out these omissions to thewoman: she answered that the papers which she had handed over were allthat had been in her principal's possession. Thereupon I gave her thecheck which had been agreed upon, and we parted. "

"And that is all you know of her?" asked Mr. Millington-Bywater. 

"All!"

"Can you describe her?"

"A tallish, rather well-built woman, but so veiled that I could seenothing of her features; it was, moreover, nearly dark on both occasions. From her speech and manner, she was, I should say, a woman of educationand refinement. "

"Did you try to trace her, or her principals, through the districtmessenger who brought the letter?"

"Certainly not! I told you, just now, that I gave my word of honour: Icouldn't. "

Mr. Millington-Bywater turned to the magistrate. 

"I can, if Your Worship desires it, put a witness in the box who canprove beyond doubt that the papers of which we have just heard thisremarkable story, were recently in the possession of John Ashton, " hesaid. "He is Mr. Cecil Perkwite, of the Middle Temple--a member of my ownprofession. "

But the magistrate, who appeared unusually thoughtful, shook his head. 

"After what we have heard, " he said, "I think we had better adjourn. Theprisoner will be remanded--as before--for another week. "

When the magistrate had left the bench, and the court was humming withthe murmur of tongues suddenly let free, Mr. Pawle forced his way to theside of the last witness. 

"Whoever you are, sir, " he said, "there's one thing certain--nobody butyou can supply the solution of the mystery about Ashton's death! Comewith me and Carless at once. "

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BROKEN LETTER

The man whose extraordinary story had excited such intense interest hadbecome the object of universal attention. Hyde, hitherto the centre ofattraction, was already forgotten, and instead of people going away fromthe court to canvass his guilt or his innocence, they surged round thewitness whose testimony, strange and unexpected, had so altered theprobabilities of the case. It was with difficulty that Methley got hisclient away into a private room; there they were joined by Mr. Carless, Mr. Pawle, Mr. Perkwite, Lord Ellingham and Viner, and behind a lockeddoor these men looked at each other and at this centre of interest withthe air of those to whom something extraordinary has just been told. After a moment of silence Mr. Carless spoke, addressing the man whosestory had brought matters to an undeniable crisis. 

"I am sure, " he said gravely, and with a side glance at Lord Ellingham, "that if your story is true, sir, --and after what we have just heard, Iam beginning to think that my first conclusions may have been wrongones, --no one will welcome your reappearance more warmly than the younggentleman whom you will turn out of title and property! But you must seefor yourself that your claims must be thoroughly investigated--and aswhat you have now just told affects other people, and we must invite youto full discussion, I propose that, for the time being, we address you asMr. Cave. "

The claimant smiled, and nodded genially to the young man whose uncle healleged himself to be. 

"I wish to remain Mr. Cave, " he said. "I don't want to turn my nephew outof title and property, so long as he will do something for his old uncle. Call me Mr. Cave, by all means. "

"We must talk--and at once, " said Mr. Carless. "There are several pointsarising out of your evidence on which you must give me information. Whoever is at the back of that woman who handed you those papers isprobably the murderer of John Ashton--and that is what must be got at. Now, where can we have a conference--immediately?--Your office, Methley, is not far away, I think. "

"My house is nearer, " said Viner. "Come--we shall be perfectly quiet inmy study, and there will be nothing to interrupt us. Let us go now. "

A police official let them out by a side-door, and Viner and Mr. Pawleled the way through some side-streets to Markendale Square, the otherscoming behind, conversing eagerly about the events of the morning. Mr. Pawle, on his part, was full of excitement. 

"If we can only trace that woman, Viner!" he exclaimed. "That's the nextthing! Get hold of her, whoever she is, and then--ah, we shall be insight of the finishing-part. "

"What about tracing the whole lot through the check he has given?"suggested Viner. "Wouldn't that be a good way?"

"We should have to wait nearly a month, " answered Mr. Pawle. "And eventhen it would be difficult--simple though it seems at first sight. Thereare folk who deal in post-dated checks, remember! This may have beendealt with already--aye, and that diamond too; and the man who has gotthe proceeds may already be many a mile away. Deep, cunning folk they arewho have been in this, Viner. And now--speed is the thing!"

Viner led his guests into his library, and as he placed chairs for themround a centre table, an idea struck him. 

"I have a suggestion to make, " he said with a shy smile at the legal men. "My aunt, Miss Penkridge, who lives with me, is an unusually sharp, shrewd woman. She has taken vast interest in this affair, and I have kepther posted up in all its details. She was in court just now and heard Mr. Cave's story. If no one has any objection, I should like her to bepresent at our deliberations--as a mysterious woman has entered into thecase, Miss Penkridge may be able to suggest something. "

"Excellent idea!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "A shrewd woman is worth herweight in gold! By all means bring Miss Penkridge in--she may, as yousay, make some suggestion. "

Miss Penkridge, fetched into the room and duly introduced, lost notime in making a suggestion of an eminently practical nature--that asall these gentlemen had been cooped up in that stuffy police-court fortwo or three hours, they would be none the worse for a glass of wine, and she immediately disappeared, jingling a bunch of keys, to reappeara few minutes later in charge of the parlour-maid carrying decantersand glasses. 

"A very comfortable suggestion, that, ma'am, " observed Mr. Carless, bowing to his hostess over a glass of old sherry. "Your intuition doesyou credit! But now, gentlemen, and Miss Penkridge, straight to business!Mr. Cave, the first question I want to put to you is this: on what datedid you receive the letter which you exhibited in court this morning?"

Mr. Cave produced a small pocket diary and turned over its pages. 

"I can tell you that, " he answered. "I made a note of it at the time. Itwas--yes, here we are--on the twenty-first of November. "

"And you received these papers, I think you said, two days later?"

"Yes--on the twenty-third. Here is the entry. "

Mr. Carless looked round at the assembled faces. 

"John Ashton was murdered on the night of the twenty-second of November, "he remarked significantly. "Therefore he had not been murdered when theveiled woman first met Mr. Cave for the first time, and he had beenmurdered when she met Mr. Cave the second time!"

There was a silence as significant as Mr. Carless' tone upon this--brokenat last by Mr. Cave. 

"If I may say a word or two, " he remarked diffidently. "I don'tunderstand matters about this John Ashton. The barrister who asked mequestions--Mr. Millington-Bywater, is it--said that he, or somebody, hadpositive proof that Mr. Ashton had my papers in his possession for sometime previous to his death. Is that really so?"

Mr. Carless pointed to Mr. Perkwite. 

"This is the gentleman whom Mr. Millington-Bywater could have put in thebox this morning to prove that, " he replied. "Mr. Perkwite, of the MiddleTemple--a barrister-at-law, Mr. Cave. Mr. Perkwite met Mr. Ashton somethree months ago at Marseilles, and Mr. Ashton then not only asked hisadvice about the Ellingham affair, alleging that he knew the missing LordMarketstoke, but showed him the papers which you have recently depositedwith Mr. Methley here--which papers, Ashton alleged, were intrusted tohim by Lord Marketstoke on his deathbed. Ashton, according to Mr. Perkwite, took particular care of these papers, and always carried themabout with him in a pocketbook. "

Mr. Cave appeared to be much exercised in thought on hearing this. 

"It is, of course, absurd to say that Lord Marketstoke--myself!--intrusted papers to any one on his deathbed, since I am verymuch alive, " he said. "But it is, equally of course, quite possible thatAshton had my papers. Who was Ashton?"

"A man who had lived in Australia for some thirty-five or forty years atleast, " replied Mr. Carless, "and who recently returned to England andsettled down in London, in this very square. He lived chiefly inMelbourne, but we have heard that for some four or five years he wassomewhere up country. You never heard of him out there? He was evidentlywell known in Melbourne. "

"No, I never heard of him, " replied Mr. Cave. "But I don't knowMelbourne very well; I know Sydney and Brisbane better. However, an ideastrikes me--Ashton may have had something to do with the purloining ofmy letters and effects at Wirra-Worra, when I met with the accident Itold you of. "

"So far as we are aware, " remarked Mr. Carless, "Ashton was an eminentlyrespectable man!"

"So far as you know!" said Mr. Cave. "There is a good deal in the savingclause, I think. I have known a good many men in Australia who werehighly respectable in the last stages of life who had been anything butthat in their earlier ones! Of what class was this Ashton?"

"I met him, occasionally, " said Methley, "though I never knew who he wasuntil after his death. He was a very pleasant, kindly, good-humouredman--but, " he added, "I should say, from his speech and manners, a manwho had risen from a somewhat humble position of life. I remembernoticing his hands--they were the hands of a man who at some period haddone hard manual labour. "

Mr. Cave smiled knowingly. 

"There you are!" he said. "He had probably been a miner! Takingeverything into consideration, I am inclined to believe that he wasmost likely one of the men, or the man, who stole my papers thirty-twoyears ago. "

"There may be something in this, " remarked Mr. Pawle, glancing uneasilyat Mr. Carless. "It is a fact that the packet of letters to which Mr. Cave referred this morning as having been written by the Countess ofEllingham to Lord Marketstoke when a boy at school, was found by Mr. Viner and myself in Ashton's house, and that the locket which he alsomentioned is in existence--facts which Mr. Cave will doubtless be glad toknow of. But, " added the old lawyer, shaking his head, "what does allthis imply? That Ashton, of whom up to now we have heard nothing butgood, was not only a thief, but an impostor who was endeavouring, ormeant to endeavour, to palm off a bogus claimant on people, who, but forMr. Cave's appearance and evidence, would certainly have been deceived!It is most amazing. "

"Don't forget, " said Viner quietly, "that Mr. Perkwite says that Ashtonshowed him at Marseilles a certain marriage certificate and a birthcertificate. "

Mr. Carless started. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I had forgotten that. Um! However, don't let usforget, just now, that our main object in meeting was to do somethingtowards tracking these people who gave Mr. Cave these papers. Now, Mr. Cave, you got no information out of the woman?"

"None!" answered Mr. Cave. "I was not to ask questions, you remember. "

"You took her for a gentlewoman?"

"Yes--from her speech and manner. "

"Did she imply to you that she was an intermediary?"

"Yes--she spoke of some one, indefinitely, you know, for whom shewas acting. "

"And she told you, I think, that you had been recognized, inLondon, since your arrival, by some one who had known you inAustralia years before?"

"Yes--certainly she told me that. "

"Just let me look at that typewritten letter again, will you?" asked Mr. Carless. "It seems impossible, but we might get something out of that. "

Mr. Cave handed the letter over, and once more it was passed from hand tohand: finally it fell into the hands of Miss Penkridge, who began toexamine it with obvious curiosity. 

"Afraid there's nothing to be got out of that!" sighed Mr. Carless. "Therogues were cunning enough to typewrite the message--if there'd been anyhandwriting, now, we might have had a chance! You say there was nothingon the envelope but your name, Mr. Cave?"

Mr. Cave opened his pocketbook again. 

"There is the envelope, " he said. "Nothing but _Mr. Cave_, as yousee--that is also typewritten. "

Miss Penkridge picked up the envelope as Mr. Cave tossed it across thetable. She appeared to examine it carefully, but suddenly she turned toMr. Carless. 

"There _is_ a clue in these things!" she exclaimed. "A plain clue! Onethat's plain enough to me, anyway. I could follow it up. I don't knowwhether you gentlemen can. "

Mr. Carless, who had, up to that point, treated Miss Penkridge withgood-humoured condescension, turned sharply upon her. 

"What do you mean, ma'am?" he asked. "You really see something in--in atypewritten letter?"

"A great deal!" answered Miss Penkridge. "And in the stationery onwhich it's typed, and in the envelope in which it's inclosed. Now lookhere: This letter has been typed on a half-sheet of notepaper. Holdthe half-sheet up to the light--what do you see? One half of the nameand address of the stationer who supplied it, in watermark. What isthat one half?"

Mr. Carless held the paper to the light and saw on the top line, . . . "_sforth, "_ on the middle line, . . . "_nd Stationer_" and, . . . "_n Hill_"on the bottom line. 

"My nephew there, " went on Miss Penkridge, "knows what that would be, infull, if the other half of the sheet were here. It would be preciselywhat it is under the flap of this envelope--there you are!'_Bigglesforth, Bookseller and Stationer, Craven Hill. '_ Everybody inthis district knows Bigglesforth--we get our stationery from him. Now, Bigglesforth has not such a very big business in really expensivenotepaper like this--the other half of the sheet, of course, would have afinely engraved address on it--and you can trace the owner of this paperthrough him, with patience and trouble. 

"But here's a still better clue! Look at this typewritten letter. Init, the letter _o_ occurs with frequency. Now, notice--the letter isbroken, imperfect; the top left-hand curve has been chipped off. Doyou mean to tell me that with time and trouble and patience you can'tfind out to whom that machine belongs? Taking the fact that thishalf-sheet of notepaper came from Bigglesforth's, of Craven Hill, "concluded Miss Penkridge with emphasis, "I should say that thisdocument--so important--came from somebody who doesn't live a millionmiles from here!"

Mr. Carless had followed Miss Penkridge with admiring attention, and henow rose to his feet. 

"Ma'am, " he exclaimed, "Mr. Viner's notion of having you to join ourcouncil has proved invaluable! I'll have that clue followed up instantly!Gentlemen, we can do no more just now--let us separate. Mr. Cave--you'llcontinue to be heard of at the Belfield Hotel?"

"I shall be at your service any time, Mr. Carless, " responded Mr. Cave. "A telephone message will bring me at once to Lincoln's Inn Fields. "

The assembly broke up, and Viner was left alone with Miss Penkridge. 

"That was clever of you!" he said, admiringly. "I should never havenoticed that. But--there are a lot of typewriting machines in London!"

"Not so many owned by customers of Bigglesforth's!" retorted MissPenkridge. "I'd work it out, if I were a detective!"

The parlour-maid looked in and attracted Viner's attention. 

"Mr. Felpham wants you at the telephone, sir, " she said. 

CHAPTER XXV

THROUGH THE TELEPHONE

Events had crowded so thick and fast upon Viner during the last dayor two, that he went to the telephone fully expecting to hear of somenew development. But he was scarcely prepared for his solicitor'sfirst words. 

"Viner!" said Felpham, whose voice betrayed his excitement. "Is that manCave still with you?"

"No!" answered Viner. "Why?"

"Listen carefully, " responded Felpham. "In spite of all he asserts, andhis long tale this morning at the police-court, I believe he's a rankimpostor! I've just had another talk with Hyde. "

"Well?" demanded Viner. 

"Hyde, " answered Felpham, "persists that he's not mistaken. He swearsthat the man is Nugent Starr. He says there's no doubt of it! And he'stold me of another actor, a man named George Bellingham, who's nowsomewhere in London, who can positively identify him as Starr. I'm goingto find Bellingham this afternoon--there's some deep-laid plot in allthis, and that fellow had been cleverly coached in the event of his beingunexpectedly tackled. . . . Viner!"

"Well--I'm listening carefully, " replied Viner. 

"Where's this man gone?" demanded Felpham. 

"To his hotel, I should think, " answered Viner. "He left here justbefore one. "

"Listen!" said Felpham. "Do you think it would be wise to post NewScotland Yard on to him--detectives, you know?"

Viner considered swiftly. In the rush of events he had forgottenthat Carless had already given instructions for the watching of thepseudo Mr. Cave. 

"Why not find this man Bellingham first?" he suggested. "If he can prove, positively, that the fellow is Nugent Starr, you'd have somethingdefinite to work on. Where can Bellingham be found?"

"Hyde's given me the address of a theatrical agent in Bedford Streetwho's likely to know of his whereabouts, " replied Felpham. "I'm goingover there at once. Hyde saw Bellingham in town three weeks ago. "

"Let me know at once, " said Viner. "If you find Bellingham, take him tothe Belfield Hotel and contrive to show him the man. Call me up later. "

He went away from his telephone and sought Miss Penkridge, whom he foundin her room, arraying herself for out of doors. 

"Here's a new development!" he exclaimed, shutting the door on them. "Felpham's just telephoned to say that Hyde persists that the man whocalls himself Cave is Nugent Starr! In that case, he won't--"

Miss Penkridge interrupted her nephew with a sniff. 

"My dear Richard, " she said, with a note of contemptuous impatience, "ina case like this, you don't know who's who or who isn't who! It wouldn'tsurprise me in the slightest if the man turns out to be Nugent Starr. "

"How did he come by such a straight tale, then?" asked Viner doubtfully. 

"Carefully prepared--in case of need, " declared Miss Penkridge as shetied her bonnet-strings with a decisive tug. "The whole thing's a plant!"

"That's what Felpham says, " remarked Viner. "But--where are you going?"he broke off as Miss Penkridge, seizing an umbrella, started for thedoor. "Lunch is just going in. "

"My lunch can wait--I've had a biscuit and a glass of sherry, " assertedMiss Penkridge. "I'm going round to Bigglesforth the stationer's, tofollow up that clue I suggested just now. I dare say I can do a bit ofdetective work as well as another, and in my opinion, Richard, there's notime to be lost. I have been blessed and endowed, " continued MissPenkridge, as she laid hold of the door-handle, "with exceedingly acuteperceptions, and I saw something when I made that suggestion which I'mquite sure none of you men, with all your brains, saw!"

"What?" demanded Viner. 

"I saw that my suggestion wasn't at all pleasing to the man who callshimself Cave!" exclaimed Miss Penkridge. "It was only a flash of his eye, a sudden droop at the corners of his lips--but I saw! And I saw somethingelse, too--that he got away as quickly as ever he could after I'd madethat suggestion. "

Viner looked at his aunt with amused wonder. He thought she was undulysuspicious, and Miss Penkridge guessed his thoughts. 

"You'll see, " she said as she opened the door. 

"There are going to be strange revelations, Richard Viner, my boy! Yousaid at the beginning of this that you'd suddenly got plunged into themiddle of things--well, in my opinion, we're now coming to the end ofthings, and I'm going to do my bit to bring it about. "

With that Miss Penkridge sailed away, her step determined and her headhigh, and Viner, pondering many matters, went downstairs to entertain hisvisitors, the unlucky Hyde's sisters, with stories of the morning'sproceedings and hopes of their brother's speedy acquittal. The poorladies were of that temperament which makes its possessors clutch eagerlyat any straw of hope floating on the sea of trouble, and they listenedeagerly to all that their host could tell. 

"Langton has an excellent memory!" declared the elder Miss Hyde. "Don'tyou remember, sister, what a quantity of poetical pieces he knew by heartwhen he was quite a child?"

"Before he was seven years of age!" said the younger sister. "And at tenhe could recite the whole of the trial scene from 'The Merchant ofVenice. ' Oh, yes, he always had a marvellous memory! If Langton says heremembers this man in America, dear Mr. Viner, I am sure Langton will beright, and that this is the man. But what a very dreadful person to uttersuch terrible falsehoods!"

"And on oath!" said the elder Miss Hyde, solemnly. "On oath, sister!"

"Sad!" murmured the younger lady. "Most sad! We find London life verydisturbing, dear Mr. Viner, after our quiet country existence. "

"There are certainly some disturbing elements in it, " admitted Viner. 

Just then came another interruption; for the second time since his returnfrom the police-court, he was summoned to the telephone. To his greatsurprise, the voice that hailed him was Mrs. Killenhall's. 

"Is that Mr. Viner?" the voice demanded in its usual brisk, clear tones. 

"Yes, " answered Viner. "Is that Mrs. Killenhall?"

"Yes!" came the prompt reply. "Mr. Viner, can you be so very kind? MissWickham and I have come down to the City on some business connectedwith Mr. Ashton, and we do so want somebody's help. Can you run down atonce and join us? So sorry to trouble you, but we really do want agentleman here. "

"Certainly!" responded Viner. "I'll come to you at once. But where areyou?"

"Come to 23 Mirrapore Street, off Whitechapel Road, " answered Mrs. Killenhall. "There is some one here who knew Mr. Ashton, and Ishould like you to see him. Can you come at once? And have you theaddress right?"

"A moment--repeat it, please, " replied Viner, pulling out a memorandumbook. He noted the address and spoke again: "I'll be there in half anhour, Mrs. Killenhall, " he said. "Sooner, if it's possible. "

"Thank you so much, " responded Mrs. Killenhall's steady voice. "So goodof you--good-bye for the present, then. "

"Good-bye, " said Viner. He hurried away into the hall, snatched up ahat, and letting himself out of the house, ran to the nearest cab-standand beckoned to a chauffeur who often took him about. "I want to getalong to Mirrapore Street, Whitechapel Road, " he said, as he sprang intothe car. "Do you know whereabouts it is?"

The chauffeur knitted his brows and shook his head. 

"There's a sight of small streets running off Whitechapel Road, bothsides, sir, " he answered. "It'll be one of them--I'll find it. MirraporeStreet? Right, sir. "

"Get there as quickly as possible, " said Viner. "The quicker the better. "

It was not until he had gone a good half of his journey that Viner beganto wonder whatever it was that had taken Miss Wickham and her chaperondown to the far boundaries of the City--or, indeed, farther. Mrs. Killenhall had said the City, but Viner knew his London well enough toknow that Whitechapel Road lies without the City confines. She had said, too, that a man who knew Mr. Ashton was there with her and MissWickham--what man, wondered Viner, and what doing in a district like thattoward which he was speeding?

The chauffeur did the run to Whitechapel Road in unusually good time; itwas little more than two o'clock when the car passed the parish church. But the man had gone from one end of the road to the other, from the endof High Street to the beginning of Mile End Road, without success, whenhe stopped and looked in at his passenger. 

"Can't see no street of that name on either side, Mr. Viner, " he said. "Have you got it right, sir?"

"That's the name given me, " answered Viner. He pointed to a policemanslowly patrolling the side walk. "Ask him, " he said. "He'll know. "

The policeman, duly questioned, seemed surprised at first; thenrecollection evidently awoke in him. 

"Mirrypoor Street?" he said. "Oh, yes! Second to your left, third to theright--nice sort o' street for a car like yours to go into, too!"

Viner overheard this and put his head out of the window. 

"Why?" he demanded. 

The policeman, quick to recognize a superior person, touched his helmetand stepped off the curb toward his questioner. 

"Pretty low quarter down there, sir, " he said, with a significant glancein the direction concerned. "If you've business that way, I should adviseyou to look after yourself--some queer places down those streets, sir. "

"Thanks, " responded Viner with a grim smile. "Go on, driver, as quick asyou can, and stop at the corner of the street. "

The car swung out of Whitechapel Road into a long, dismal street, theshabbiness of which increased the further the main thoroughfare was leftbehind; and Viner, looking right and left, saw that the small streetsrunning off that which he was traversing were still more dismal, stillmore shabby. Suddenly the car twisted to the right and stopped, and Vinerwas aware of a long, narrow street, more gloomy than the rest, whereinvarious doubtful-looking individuals moved about, and groups of poorlyclad children played in the gutters. 

"All right, " he said as he got down from the car, and the chauffeur madea grimace at the unlovely vista. "Look here--I don't want you to waithere. Go back to Whitechapel Road and hang about the end of the streetwe've just come down. I'll come back there to you. "

"Not afraid of going down here alone, then, sir?" asked the chauffeur. "It's a bit as that policeman said. "

"I'm all right, " repeated Viner. "You go back and wait. I may be sometime. I mayn't be long. "

He turned away down the street--and in spite of his declaration, he feltthat this was certainly the most doubtful place he had ever been in. There were evil and sinister faces on the sidewalks; evil and sinistereyes looking out of dirty windows; here and there a silent-footed figurewent by him in the gloom of the December day with the soft step of a wildanimal; here and there, men leaning against the wall, glared suspiciouslyat him or fixed rapacious eyes on his good clothes. There were shops inthis street such as Viner had never seen the like of--shops whereincoarse, dreadful looking food was exposed for sale; and there werepublic-houses from which came the odour of cheap gin and bad beer andrank tobacco; an atmosphere of fried fish and something far worse hungheavily above the dirty pavements, and at every step he took Viner askedhimself the same question--what on earth could Miss Wickham and Mrs. Killenhall be doing in this wretched neighbourhood?

Suddenly he came to the house he wanted--Number 23. It was just likeall the other houses, of sombre grey brick, except for the fact thatit looked somewhat cleaner than the rest, was furnished with blindsand curtains, and in the front downstairs window had a lower wireblind, on which was worked in tarnished gilt letters, the word_Surgery_. On the door was a brass plate, also tarnished, across whichran three lines in black:

"Dr. Martincole. Attendance: 3 to 6 p. M. Saturdays. 5 to 9. 30 p. M. "

Before Viner took the bell in hand, he glanced at the houses whichflanked this East-end surgery. One was a poor-looking, meanly equippedchemist's shop; the other a second-hand clothing establishment. Andcomforting himself with the thought that if need arose the apparentlyfairly respectable proprietors of these places might reasonably be calledupon for assistance, he rang the bell of Number 23 and awaited theopening of the door with considerable curiosity. 

The door was opened by Mrs. Killenhall herself, and Viner's quick eyefailed to notice anything in her air or manner that denoted uneasiness. She smiled and motioned him to enter, shutting the door after him as hestepped into the narrow entrance hall. 

"So very good of you to come, Mr. Viner, and so quickly, " she said. "Youfound your way all right?"

"Yes, but I'm a good deal surprised to find you and Miss Wickham in thisneighbourhood, " answered Viner. "This is a queer place, Mrs. Killenhall. I hope--"

"Oh, we're all right!" said Mrs. Killenhall, with a reassuring smile. "Itis certainly a queer neighbourhood, but Dr. Martincole is an old friendof mine, and we're safe enough under his roof. He'll be here in a fewminutes, and then--"

"This man who knew Mr. Ashton?" interrupted Viner. "Where is he?"

"Dr. Martincole will bring him in, " said Mrs. Killenhall, "Come upstairs, Mr. Viner. "

Viner noticed that the house through which he was led was very quiet, andlarger than he should have guessed at from the street frontage. From whathe could see, it was well furnished, but dark and gloomy; gloomy, too, was a back room, high up the stairs, into which Mrs. Killenhall presentlyshowed him. There, looking somewhat anxious, sat Miss Wickham, alone. 

"Here's Mr. Viner, " said Mrs. Killenhall. "I'll tell Dr. Martincolehe's come. "

She motioned Viner to a chair and went out. But the next instant Vinerswung quickly round. As the door closed, he had heard the unmistakableclick of a patent lock. 

CHAPTER XXVI

THE DISMAL STREET

Unknown to those who had taken part in the conference at Viner's house, unknown even to Carless, who in the multiplicity of his engagements, hadforgotten the instructions which he had given on the previous afternoonto Portlethwaite, a strict watch was being kept on the man around whomall the events of that morning had centred. Portlethwaite, after Methleyand his client had left Carless and Driver's office, had given certaininstructions to one of his fellow-clerks, a man named Millwaters, inwhose prowess as a spy he had unlimited belief. Millwaters was a fellowof experience. He possessed all the qualities of a sleuth-hound and wasnot easily baffled in difficult adventures. In his time he had watchederring husbands and doubtful wives; he had followed more than onehigh-placed wrong-doer running away from the consequences of forgery orembezzlement; he had conducted secret investigations into the behaviourof persons about whom his employers wanted to know something. In personand appearance he was eminently fitted for his job--a little, inconspicuous, plain-featured man who contrived to look as if he neversaw anything. And to him, knowing that he was to be thoroughly dependedupon, Portlethwaite had given precise orders. 

"You'll go up to Lancaster Gate tonight, Millwaters, and get a good lookat that chap, " Portlethwaite had told him. "Take plenty of money--I'llspeak to the cashier about that--and be prepared for anything, even tofollowing, if he bolts. Once you've seen him, you're not to lose sight ofhim; make sure of him last thing today and first thing tomorrow. Followhim wherever he goes, make a note of wherever he goes, and particularlyof whoever he meets. And if there's need, ring me up here, and let's knowwhat's happening, or if you want assistance. "

There was no need for Millwaters to promise faithful compliance;Portlethwaite knew well enough that to put him on a trail was equivalentto putting a hound on the scent of a fox or a terrier to the run of arat. And that evening, Millwaters, who had clever ways of his own, madehimself well acquainted with the so-called Mr. Cave's appearance, andassured himself that his man had gone peacefully to rest at his hotel, and he had seen him again before breakfast next morning and had been inquiet and unobtrusive attendance upon him when, later, he visitedMethley's office and subsequently walked away with Methley to thepolice-court. And Millwaters was in the police-court, meditatively suckingpeppermint lozenges in a corner, when Mr. Cave was unexpectedly asked togive evidence; he was there, too, until Mr. Cave left the court. 

Cave's remarkable story ran off Millwaters' mentality like raindrops offa steep roof. It mattered nothing to him. He did not care the value of abrass button if Cave was Earl of Ellingham or Duke of Ditchmoor; his jobwas to keep his eye on him, whoever he was. And so when Viner and hisparty went round to Markendale Square, Millwaters slunk along in theirrear, and at a corner of the Square he remained, lounging about, untilhis quarry reappeared. Two or three of the other men came out with Cave, but Millwaters noticed that Cave immediately separated from them. He wasevidently impressing upon them that he was in a great hurry aboutsomething or other, and sped away from them, Millwaters's cold eye uponhim. And within a minute Millwaters had observed what seemed to himhighly suspicious circumstance--Cave, on leaving the others, had shot offdown a side-street in the direction of Lancaster Gate, but as soon as hewas out of sight of Markendale Square, had doubled in his tracks, hurrieddown another turning and sped away as fast as he could walk towardsPaddington Station. 

Millwaters, shorter in the leg than the tall man in front, had to hurryto keep him in sight, but he was never far behind as Cave hastened alongCraven Road and made for the terminus. Once or twice in this chase thequarry lifted a hand to an approaching taxicab, only to find each wasengaged; it was not until he and his pursuer were in front of the GreatWestern Hotel that Cave found an empty cab, hailed it, and sprang in. Millwaters grinned quietly at that; he was used to this sort of chase, and he had memorized car and number before Cave had been driven off. Itwas a mere detail to charter the next, and to give a quiet word and winkto its chauffeur, who was opening its door for Millwaters when a thirdperson came gently alongside and tapped the clerk's shoulder. Millwatersturned sharply and encountered Mr. Perkwite's shrewd eyes. 

"All right, Millwaters!" said the barrister. "I know what you're after!I'm after the same bird. We'll go together. "

Millwaters knew Mr. Perkwite very well as a promising young barristerwhom Carless and Driver sometimes favoured with briefs. Mr. Perkwite's presence did not disturb him; he moved into the farthercorner, and Mr. Perkwite slipped inside. The car moved off in pursuitof the one in front. 

"So you're on that game, Mr. Perkwite?" remarked Millwaters. "Ah! And whomight have got you on to it, if one may ask?"

"You know that I was at your people's office yesterday?" said Perkwite. 

"Saw you there, " replied Millwaters. 

"It was about this business, " said the barrister. "Did you see me in thepolice-court this morning?"

"I did--listening for all you were worth, " answered the clerk. 

"And I dare say you saw me go with the rest of them to Mr. Viner's, inMarkendale Square?" said Perkwite. 

"Right again, sir, " assented Millwaters. "I did. "

"This fellow in front, " observed Perkwite, "made some statements atViner's, in answer to your principal, Mr. Carless, which incline meto the opinion that he's an impostor in spite of his carefullyconcocted stories. "

"Shouldn't wonder, Mr. Perkwite. " said Millwaters. "But that's not mybusiness. My job is to keep him under observation. "

"That's what I set out to do when I came out of Viner's, " said thebarrister. "He's up to something. He assured us as we left the house thathe'd a most pressing engagement at his hotel in Lancaster Gate; the nextminute, happening to glance down a side-street, I saw him cutting off inthe direction of Paddington. And now he's evidently making for the City. "

"Well, I'm after him, " remarked Millwaters. He leaned out of his window, called the chauffeur, and gave him some further instructions. "Intelligent chap, this, Mr. Perkwite, " he said as he sat down again. "Heunderstands--some of 'em are poor hands at this sort of game. "

"You're a pretty good hand yourself, I think?" suggested the barrister, with a smile. 

"Ought to be, " said Millwaters. "Had plenty of experience, anyway. "

It seemed to Perkwite that his companion kept no particular observationon the car in front as it sped along to and through the northern edge ofthe City and beyond. But Millwaters woke to action as their own carprogressed up Whitechapel Road, and suddenly he gave a warning word tothe barrister and a smart tap on the window behind their driver. The carcame to a halt by the curb; and Millwaters, slipping out, pushed somemoney into the man's hand and drew Perkwite amongst the people who werecrowding the sidewalk. The barrister looked in front and around andseemed at a loss. 

"Where is he?" he asked. "Hang it, I've lost him!"

"I haven't!" said Millwaters. "He left his car before we left ours. Ourman knew what he was after--he slowed up and passed him until I saw wherehe went. " He twisted Perkwite round and pointed to the mouth of a streetwhich they had just passed. 

"He's gone down there, " he said. "Nice neighbourhood, too! I knowsomething of it. Now, Mr. Perkwite, if you please, we'll separate. Youtake the right of that street--I'll take the left. Keep a look out for mygentleman's Homburg hat--grey, with a black band--and keep the tail ofyour eye on me, too. "

Cave's headgear was easily followed down the squalid street. Its ownerwent swiftly ahead, with Millwaters in pursuit on one pavement, and thebarrister on the other, until he finally turned into a narrower andshabbier thoroughfare. Then the clerk hurried across the road, attractedPerkwite's attention, winked at him as he passed without checking hispace, and whispered two or three words. 

"Wait--by the street-corner!"

Perkwite pulled up, and Millwaters went down the dismal street inpursuit of the Homburg hat. This excellent indication of its owner'spresence suddenly vanished from Perkwite's sight, and presentlyMillwaters came back. 

"Ran him to earth--for the time being, anyway, " he said. "He's gone intoa surgery down there--a Dr. Martincole's. Number 23--brass plate ondoor--next to a drug-shop. Suspicious sort of spot, altogether. "

"Well?" demanded Perkwite. "What next? You know best, Millwaters. "

The clerk jerked a thumb down the side of the dismal street on which theywere standing. 

"There's a public-house down there, " he said, "almost opposite thissurgery. Fairly decent place for this neighbourhood--bar-parlour lookingout on the street. Better slip in there and look quietly out. Butremember, Mr. Perkwite--don't seem to be watching anything. We're justgoing in for a bottle of ale, and talking business together. 

"Whatever you recommend, " said Perkwite. 

He followed his companion down the street to the tavern, a joyless andshabby place, the bar-parlour of which, a dark and smoke-stained room wasjust then empty, and looked over its torn half-blind across the way. 

"Certainly a queer place for a man who professes to be a peer of therealm to visit!" he muttered. "Well, now, what do you propose to do, Millwaters?"

"Hang about here and watch, " whispered the clerk. "Look out!"

A face, heavy and bloated, appeared at a hatch-window at the back of theroom, and a gruff voice made itself heard. 

"Any orders, gents?"

"Two bottles o' Bass, gov'nor, " responded Millwaters promptly, droppinginto colloquial Cockney speech. He turned to Perkwite and winked. "Well, an' wot abaht this 'ere bit o' business as I've come rahnd abaht, Mister?" he went on, nudging his companion, in free-and-easy style. 

"Yer see, it's this ere wy wiv us--if yer can let us have that therestuff reasonable, d'yer see--" He drew Perkwite over to the window andbegan to whisper, "That'll satisfy him, " he said with a sharp glance atthe little room behind the hatch where the landlord was drawing corks. "He'll think we're doing a bit of trade, so we've nothing to do but standin this window and keep an eye on the street. Out of this I'm not goingtill I see whether that fellow comes out or stops in!"

Some time had passed, and Millwaters had been obliged to repeat his orderfor bottled Bass before anything took place in the street outside. Suddenly he touched his companion's elbow. 

"Here's a taxicab coming along and slowing up for somewhere abouthere, " he whispered. "And--Lord, if there aren't two ladies in it--in aspot like this! And--whew!" he went on excitedly. "Do you see 'em, Mr. Perkwite? The young un's Miss Wickham, who came to our office aboutthis Ashton affair. I don't know who the old un is--but she evidentlyknows her way. "

The berry-faced landlord had now shut down the hatch, and his twobar-parlour customers were alone and unobserved. Perkwite drew away fromthe window, pulling Millwaters by the sleeve. 

"Careful!" he said. "There's something seriously wrong here, Millwaters!What's Miss Wickham being brought down here for? See, they've gone intothat surgery, and the car's going off. Look here--we've got to dosomething, and at once!"

But Millwaters shook his head. 

"Not my job, Mr. Perkwite!" he answered. "My business is with theman--Cave! I've nothing to do with Miss Wickham, sir, nor with the oldlady that's taken her in there. Cave's my mark! Queer that the young lady'sgone there, no doubt, but--no affair of mine. "

"It's going to be an affair of mine, then, " said Perkwite. "I'm going offto the police!"

Millwaters put out a detaining hand. 

"Don't, Mr. Perkwite!" he said. "To get police into a quarter like thisis as bad as putting a light to dry straw. I'll tell you a better planthan that, sir--find the nearest telephone-box and call up ourpeople--call Mr. Carless, tell him what you've seen and get him to comedown and bring somebody with him. That'll be far better than calling thepolice in. "

"Give me your telephone-number, then, " said Perkwite, "and keep a strictwatch while I'm away. "

Millwaters repeated some figures and a letter, and Perkwite ran off upthe street and toward the Whitechapel Road, anxiously seeking for atelephone booth. It was not until he had got into the main thoroughfarethat he found one; he then had some slight delay in getting incommunication with Carless and Driver's office; twenty minutes hadelapsed by the time he got back to the dismal street. At its corner heencountered Millwaters, lounging about hands in pockets. Millwaterswagged his head. 

"Here's another queer go!" he said. "There's been another arrival atNumber 23--not five minutes since. Another of our little lot!"

"Who?" demanded Perkwite. 

"Viner!" replied Millwaters. "Came peeping and perking along thestreet, took a glimpse of the premises and the adjacent purlieus, rang atNumber 23, and was let in by--the party that came with Miss Wickham! Now, whatever can he be doing there, Mr. Perkwite?"

"Whatever can any of them be doing there!" muttered Perkwite. "Viner!What business can he have in this place? It seems--by George, Millwaters, " he suddenly exclaimed, "what if this is some infernalplant--trap--something of that sort? Do you know, in spite of what yousay, I really think we ought to get hold of the nearest police andtell them--"

"Wait, Mr. Perkwite!" counselled Millwaters. "Our governor is a prettycute and smart sort, and he's vastly interested in this Miss Wickham; soPortlethwaite and he'll be on their way down here now, hot foot; and withhelp, too, if he thinks she's in any danger. Now, _he_ can go straight tothat door and demand to see her, and--"

"Why can't we?" interrupted Perkwite. "I'd do it! Lord, man, she may bein real peril--"

"Not while Viner's in there, " said Millwaters quietly. "I might possiblyhave gone and rung the bell myself, but for that. But Viner's inthere--wait!"

And Perkwite waited, chafing, at the corner of the dismal street, until aquarter of an hour had passed. Then a car came hurrying along and pulledup as Millwaters and his companion were reached, and from it sprang Mr. Carless, Lord Ellingham and two men in plain-clothes, at the sight ofwhom Perkwite heaved a huge sigh of intense relief. 

CHAPTER XXVII

THE BACK WAY

Viner was so sure that the sound which he had heard on Mrs. Killenhall'sretirement was that caused by the turning of a key or slipping of a lockin the door by which he had entered, that before speaking to Miss Wickhamhe instantly stepped back and tried it. To his astonishment it openedreadily, but the anteroom outside was empty; Mrs. Killenhall hadevidently walked straight through it and disappeared. 

"That's odd!" he said, turning to Miss Wickham. "I distinctly thoughtI heard something like the snap of a lock, or a bolt or something. Didn't you?"

"I certainly heard a sound of that sort, " admitted Miss Wickham. "But--the door's open, isn't it?"

"Yes--that is so, " answered Viner, who was distinctly puzzled. "Yet--butthen, all this seems very odd. When did you come down here?"

"About an hour ago, " replied Miss Wickham, "in a hurry. "

"Do you know why?" asked Viner. 

"To see a Dr. Martincole, who is to tell us something about Mr. Ashton, "replied his fellow-sharer in these strange quarters. "Didn't Mrs. Killenhall ask you to come down for the same purpose, Mr. Viner?"

Viner, before he replied, looked round the room. Considering the extremeshabbiness and squalour of the surrounding district, he was greatlysurprised to find that the apartment in which he and Miss Wickham waitedwas extremely well furnished, if in an old-fashioned and rather heavyway. The walls were panelled in dark, age-stained oak, to the height ofseveral feet; above the panelling were arranged good oil pictures, whichViner would have liked to examine at his leisure; here and there, incabinets, were many promising curiosities; there were old silver andbrass things, and a shelf or two of well-bound books--altogether theplace and its effects were certainly not what Viner had expected to findin such a quarter. 

"Yes, " he said at last, turning to his companion, "that's what I wasbrought here for. Well--have you seen this doctor?"

"No, " answered Miss Wickham. "Not yet. "

"Know anything about him?" suggested Viner. 

"Nothing whatever! I have heard of him, " said Miss Wickham with a glanceof surprise. "I suppose he--somehow--got into touch with MissKillenhall. "

"Queer!" remarked Viner. "And why doesn't he come in?"

Then, resolved to know more, he walked into the anteroom, and after alook round it, tried the door by which Mrs. Killenhall had admitted himafter coming up the stairs from the street; a second later he went backto Miss Wickham and shook his head. 

"It's just as I supposed, " he remarked quietly. "We're trapped! Anyway, the door of that anteroom is locked--and it's a strong lock. There'ssomething wrong. "

The girl started, and paled a little, but Viner saw at once that she wasnot likely to be seriously frightened, and presently she laughed. 

"How very queer!" she said. "But--perhaps Mrs. Killenhall turned the keyin the outer lock so that no--patients, or other callers, perhaps--should come in?"

"Sorry, but that doesn't strike me as a good suggestion, " replied Viner. "I'm going to have a look at that window!"

The one window of the room, a long, low one, was set high in the wall, above the panelling; Viner had to climb on a bookcase to get at it. Andwhen he had reached it, he found it to be securely fastened, and to havein front of it, at a distance of no more than a yard, a blank whitewashedwall which evidently rose from a passage between that and the next house. 

"I don't like the look of this at all!" he said as he got down from thebookcase. "It seems to me that we might be kept here for a long time. "

Miss Wickham showed more astonishment than fear. 

"But why should any one want to keep us here for any time?" she asked. "What's it mean?"

"I wish I knew!" exclaimed Viner. He pulled out his watch and made amental note of the time. "We're being kept much longer than we should bein any ordinary case, " he remarked. 

"Of course!" admitted Miss Wickham. "Well past three o'clock, isn'tit? If we're delayed much longer, Mrs. Killenhall will be too latefor the bank. "

"What bank?" asked Viner. 

"My bank. I always give Mrs. Killenhall a check for the weekly billsevery Friday, and as we were coming through the City to get here, shesaid, just before we left home, that I might as well give her the checkand she could call and cash it as we drove back. And, " concluded MissWickham, "the bank closes at four. "

Viner began to be suspicious. 

"Look here!" he said suddenly. "Don't think me inquisitive, but what wasthe amount of the check you gave her?"

"There was no amount stated, " replied Miss Wickham. "I always give her ablank check--signed, of course--and she fills in the amount herself. Itvaries according to what she wants. "

Without expressing any opinion on the wisdom of handing checks toother people on this plan, Viner turned to Miss Wickham with afurther question. 

"Do you know anything about Mrs. Killenhall's movements this morning?" heasked. "Did she go out anywhere?"

"Yes, " replied Miss Wickham. "She went to the police-court, to hear theproceedings against Mr. Hyde. She wanted me to go, but I wouldn't--Idislike that sort of thing. She was there all the morning. "

"So was I, " said Viner. "I didn't see her. But the place was crowded. "

"And she was veiled, " remarked Miss Wickham. "Naturally, she didn't wantpeople to see her in a place like that. "

"Do you know whether she went to the previous sitting? I mean when Hydewas brought up the first time?" inquired Viner. "I remember there weresome veiled ladies there--and at the coroner's inquest, too. "

"She was at the coroner's inquest, I know, " replied Miss Wickham. "Idon't know about the other time. "

Viner made no remark, and Miss Wickham suddenly lowered her voice andbent nearer to him. 

"Why?" she asked. "Are you--suspecting Mrs. Killenhall of anything, Mr. Viner?"

Viner gave her a quick glance. 

"Are you?" he said in low tones. 

Miss Wickham waved a hand towards the anteroom. 

"Well!" she whispered. "What's it look like? She brings me down herein a hurry, on a message which I myself never heard nor saw deliveredin any way; after I get here, you are fetched--and here we are!And--where is she?"

"And--possibly a much more pertinent question, " said Viner, "where isthis Dr. Martincole? Look here: this is a well-furnished room; thosepictures are good; there are many valuable things here; yet the man whopractises here is only in attendance for an hour or two in an afternoon, and once a week for rather longer in the evening. He can't earn muchhere; certainly an East End doctor could not afford to buy things likethis or that. Do you know what I think? I think this man is some West Endman, who for purposes of his own has this place down here--a man whoprobably lives a double life, and may possibly be mixed up in somenefarious practices. And so I propose, as we've waited long enough, toget out of it, and I'm going to smash that window and yell as loud as Ican--somebody will hear it!"

Miss Wickham pointed to a door in the oak panelling, a door set in acorner of the room, across which hung a heavy curtain of red plush, onlyhalfdrawn. 

"There's a door there, " she remarked, "but I suppose it's only acupboard. "

"Sure to be, " said Viner. "However, we'll see. " He went across, drew thecurtain aside, tried the door, looked within, and uttered an exclamation. "I say!" he called back. "Stairs!"

Miss Wickham came across and looked past his shoulder. There wascertainly the head of a staircase before him, and a few stairs to be seenbefore darkness swallowed up the rest--but the darkness was deep and theatmosphere that came up from below decidedly musty. 

"Are you going down there?" she asked. "I don't like it!"

"It seems our only chance, " answered Viner. He looked back into the room, and seeing some wax candles standing on a writing-table, seized one andlighted it. "Come along!" he said. "Let's get out of this altogether. "

Miss Wickham gathered up her skirts and followed down the stairs, Vinergoing cautiously in front, with the light held before him in such afashion that he could see every step. At a turn in the stairway he cameacross a door, and opening it, saw that it stood at the end of a narrowpassage running through the house; at the farther end of the passage herecognized an oak cabinet which he had noticed when Mrs. Killenhallfirst admitted him. 

"I see how these people, whoever they are, manage matters, " he remarkedover his shoulder as he led his companion forward. "This place has afront and a back entrance. If you don't want to be seen, you know, well, it's convenient. We're approaching the back--and here it is. "

The stairs came to an end deep down in the house, terminating in a doorwhich Viner, after leaving his silver-sticked candle, only blown out, onthe last step, carefully opened. There before him lay a narrowwhitewashed yard, at the end of which they could see a street, evidentlypretty much like the rest of the streets in that district. But in theyard a pale-cheeked, sharp-eyed urchin was feeding a couple of rabbits ina wire-faced soap-box, and him Viner immediately hailed. 

"You're a smart-looking lad, " he said. "Would you like five shillings?Well, have you seen Dr. Martincole this afternoon? You know, the doctorwho comes to the house behind us?"

"See him go out abaht an hour ago, guv'nor--wiv anuvver gent, " said thelad eagerly, his bright eyes wavering between Viner's face and the handwhich he had thrust in his pocket. He pointed to the distant entrance ofthe yard. "Went aht that way, they did. "

"Ah! And what was the other gentleman like?" asked Viner. 

"Swell!" answered the informant. "Proper swell, he was!"

"And Dr. Martincole?" Viner continued. "You've seen him many a time, ofcourse. Now what's he like!"

"He's a tall gentleman, " said the boy, after some evidentlypainful thought. 

"Yes, but what else--has he got a beard?" asked Viner. 

"Couldn't tell you that, guv'nor, d'yer see, " said the lad, "'cause he'sone o' them gents what allus wears a white silk handkercher abaht hisface--up to his eyes. But he's a big man--wears black clothes. "

Viner gave the boy his promised reward, and was passing on when MissWickham touched his arm. 

"Ask if he's seen a lady go out this way, " she said. "That's equallyimportant. "

The boy, duly questioned nodded his head. 

"I see Mrs. Killerby go out not so long since, " he answered. "Her whatused to live here one time. Know her well enough. "

"Come along!" muttered Viner. "We've hit it! Mrs. Killerby--who is Mrs. Killenhall--used to live here at one time! Good--which means very bad, considering that without doubt the doctor who wears a white silkhandkerchief about his face is the muffled man of Lonsdale Passage. MissWickham, something has alarmed these birds and they've flown. "

"But why were we brought here?" asked Miss Wickham. 

"I've an idea as to why you were, " said Viner, "and I propose to find outat once if I'm right. Let's get away, find a taxicab, and go toyour--but, good heavens!" he went on, breaking off as two men came intothe yard. "Here's one of Carless' clerks, and Perkwite thebarrister. --What are you doing here?" he demanded, as Millwaters andPerkwite hurried up. "Are you after anybody along there--in thathouse--the one at the end?"

"We're after a good many things and people in Dr. Martincole's place, Mr. Viner, " answered Millwaters. "Mr. Perkwite and I traced Mr. Cave hereearly in the afternoon; he went in, but he's never come out; we saw youenter--here you are. We saw Miss Wickham and Mrs. Killenhall--there'sMiss Wickham, but where's the other lady? And where--"

Viner stopped the clerk's questions with a glance, and he laughed alittle as he gave him his answer. 

"My dear fellow, " he said, "you should have posted somebody at the backhere. Why, we don't quite know yet, but Miss Wickham and myself weretrapped in there. As for Cave, he must be the man who went away withMartincole. As for Mrs. Killenhall, she too has gone. That boy down theresaw all three go, some time ago, while we were locked up. But--what madeyou watch these people?"

"We followed Cave, " said Perkwite, "because Millwaters had been orderedto do so, and because I considered his conduct mysterious. Then, whenwe saw what was going on here, --your arrival following on that of MissWickham and Mrs. Killenhall, --we telephoned for Mr. Carless and morehelp. Carless and Lord Ellingham, and a couple of detectives, are atthe front now. Millwaters and I heard from a denizen of these unlovelyparts that there was a back entrance. We'd tried in vain for admittanceat the front--"

"But they've got in now, Mr. Perkwite!" exclaimed Millwaters suddenly. "See, there's Mr. Carless at a back window, waving to us to come in. Isuppose we can get in by the back, Mr. Viner?"

"Yes--if you like to take the risk of entering people's houses withoutpermission!" said Viner sardonically. "I don't think you'll find anybodyor anything there. As for Miss Wickham and myself, we've an engagementelsewhere. "

He hurried his companion away, through the street on which they emergedfrom the whitewashed yard, and out into the Whitechapel Road; he hurriedher, too, into the first taxicab which came along empty. 

"Now, " he said, as they stepped in, "tell this man the name of your bank, and let him go there, quick!"

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE TRUTH

Four o'clock had struck, and the doors of the bank were closed when MissWickham and Viner hurried up to it, but there was a private entrance atthe side, and the man who answered their summons made no difficulty aboutadmitting them when Miss Wickham said who she was. And within a fewminutes they were closeted with a manager, who, surprised when theyentered, was astonished before many words had been exchanged. For duringtheir dash from the Whitechapel streets Viner had coached his companionas to the questions he wished her to put on arrival at the bank, and shewent straight to the point. 

"I wanted to know if my companion, Mrs. Killenhall, had called here thisafternoon?" begun Miss Wickham. 

"She has, " answered the manager. "I happened to see her, and I attendedto her myself. "

"Did she present a check from me?" inquired Miss Wickham. 

"Certainly--and I cashed it, " said the manager. He gave his customerand her companion a look of interrogation which had a good deal ofsurprise in it. "Why?" he continued, glancing at Miss Wickham, "wasn'tit in order?"

"That, " replied Miss Wickham, "depends upon the amount. "

"The amount!" he exclaimed. "You know--if the drawer! It was for tenthousand pounds!"

"Then Mrs. Killenhall has done me, or you, out of that, " said MissWickham. "The check I gave her was to have been filled up for the amountof the usual weekly bills--twenty pounds or so. Ten thousand?Ridiculous!"

"But--it all seemed in order!" exclaimed the concerned manager. "She wasas plausible, and all that--and really, you know, Miss Wickham, we knowher very well--and, in addition to that, you have a very large balancelying here. Mrs. Killenhall merely mentioned that you wanted this amount, in notes, and that she had called for it--and of course, I cashed thecheck--your check, remember!--at once. "

"I hadn't filled in the amount, " remarked Miss Wickham. 

"Mrs. Killenhall had often presented checks bearing your signature inwhich you hadn't filled in the amount, " said the manager. "There wasnothing unusual, I assure you, in any detail of the affair. "

"The most important detail, now, " observed Viner dryly, "is to find Mrs. Killenhall. "

The manager, who was obviously filled with amazement at Mrs. Killenhall'saudacity, looked from one to the other of his visitors, as if he couldscarcely credit their suggestion. 

"You really mean me to believe that Mrs. Killenhall has got ten thousandpounds out of Miss Wickham by a trick?" he asked, fixing his gaze atlast on Viner. 

"What I really mean you to believe, " said Viner, rising, "is that arapid series of events this afternoon has proved to me that Mrs. Killenhall is one of a gang who are responsible for the murder of JohnAshton, who stole his diamond and certain papers, and who haveendeavoured, very cleverly, to foist one of their number, a scoundrellyclever actor, on the public, as a peer of the realm who had been missing. Mrs. Killenhall--who has another name--probably got wind of possibledetection about noon today, and took advantage of Miss Wickham's habit ofgiving her a weekly check, to provide herself with ample funds. That'sreally about the truth--and I think Miss Wickham and I had better beseeing the police. "

"The very best thing you can do!" responded the manager with alacrity. "And take my advice and go straight to headquarters--go to New ScotlandYard. Just think what this woman--and her accomplices--could do! If sheor they had one hour's start of you, they can have already put a gooddistance between themselves and London; they can be halfway to Dover, orHarwich, or Southampton. And therefore--"

"And therefore all the more reason why we should set somebody on theirtrail, " interrupted Viner, and hurried Miss Wickham out of the manager'sroom and away to the taxicab which he had purposely kept in waiting. "Idon't think Mrs. Killenhall, or Killerby, or whatever her name is, willhave hurried away as quickly as all that, " he remarked as they sped alongtoward Whitehall. "My own idea is that, having got hold of your money, she'll probably have made for the headquarters of this precious gang, sheand they are sure to have one, for I should say the place in Whitechapelwas only an outpost, --and they'll be better able to arrange an escapefrom there than she would to make an immediate flight. She--but what areyou thinking?"

"That I seem to be involved, somehow, in a very strange and curiouscombination of things, " answered Miss Wickham. 

"Just so!" agreed Viner. "So do I--and I was literally pitchforked intothe very midst of it all by sheer accident. If I hadn't happened to goout for a late stroll on the night on which it began, I should neverhave--but here we are!"

The official of the Criminal Investigation Department with whomthey were shortly closeted, listened carefully and silently toViner's account of all that had happened. He was one of thosenever-to-be-sufficiently-praised individuals who never interrupt andalways understand, and at the close of Viner's story he said exactly whatthe narrator was thinking. "The real truth of all this, Mr. Viner, " hesaid, "is that this is probably one of the last chapters in the historyof the Lonsdale Passage murder. For if you find this woman and the menwho are undoubtedly her accomplices, you will most likely have found, inone or other of them, the murderer of John Ashton!"

"Precisely!" agreed Viner. "Precisely!"

The official rose from his seat and turned to the door. 

"Drillford, of your nearest police-station, had this case in charge, " heremarked. "I'll just call him on the telephone. "

He left the room and was away for several minutes; when he returnedthere was something like a smile on his face. 

"If you and Miss Wickham will drive along and see Drillford, Mr. Viner, "he said. "I think you'll find he's some news for you. "

"Has he told it to you?" demanded Viner. 

"Well--just a little, " answered the official with another smile. "ButI won't rob him of the pleasure of telling you himself. You ought tobe disappointed. However, I'll just tell you enough to whet yourappetite for more--Drillford is confident that he's just arrested thereal man! No--no more!" he added, with a laugh. "You'll run up therein twenty minutes. "

Drillford, cool and confident as ever, was alone in his office when Vinerand his companion were shown in. He looked at Miss Wickham withconsiderable curiosity as he handed her a chair, and Viner noticed thatthe bow he made her was unusually respectful. But he immediately plungedinto the pertinent subject, and turned to Viner with a laugh ofself-deprecation. 

"Well, Mr. Viner!" he said. "You were right, and I was wrong. It wasn'tthat young fellow Hyde who killed Mr. Ashton. And now that I know whodid, I don't mind saying that I'm jolly glad that his innocence will beestablished. "

"But do you know who did?" asked Viner eagerly. 

"I do!" answered Drillford. 

"Who, then?" exclaimed Viner. 

"He's in the cells at the back, now, " said Drillford, "and I only hopehe's not one of those chaps who are so clever that they can secretepoison to the very last moment and then cheat the gallows, for now that Iknow as much as I do, I should say he's as pretty a specimen of theaccomplished scoundrel as ever put on fine clothes. Dr. Cortelyon, ofyour square!"

This sudden and surprising revelation, made in ordinary matter-of-facttones, produced different effects on the two people to whom it was made. Viner, after a start and a smothered exclamation, stared silently atDrillford as if he scarcely comprehended his meaning. But Miss Wickham, with a quick flush which evidently denoted suddenly-awakenedrecollection, broke into words. 

"Dr. Cortelyon!" she exclaimed. "Ah--I remember now. Mr. Ashton once toldme, in quite a casual way as we were passing through the square, that hehad known Dr. Cortelyon in Australia, years and years ago!"

Drillford glanced at Viner and smiled. 

"I wish you'd remembered that little matter before, Miss Wickham!" hesaid. "It might have saved a lot of trouble. Well--Cortelyon's the man!And it all came about quite suddenly, this afternoon. Through your aunt, Mr. Viner--Miss Penkridge. Smart lady, sir!"

"My aunt!" exclaimed Viner. "Why, how on earth--"

"Some of your gentlemen had a conference with that fellow Cave at yourhouse, after you left court this morning, " said Drillford. "MissPenkridge was present. Cave told more of his cock-and-bull story, andproduced a certain letter which he said had been handed to him at thehotel he'd put up at. All that, and all the stuff he told at thepolice-court, was bluff--carefully concocted by himself and Cortelyon incase Cave was ever put in a tight corner. Now, according to what shetells me, Miss Penkridge immediately spotted something about that letterwhich none of you gentlemen were clever enough to see--"

"I know!" interrupted Viner. "She saw that the envelope and paper hadbeen supplied by Bigglesforth, of Craven Gardens, and that a certainletter in the typewriter which had been used was defective. "

"Just so, " laughed Drillford, "and so, being, as I say, a smart woman, she went round to Bigglesforth, got him to herself, and made someinquiries. And--it's very queer, Mr. Viner, how some of these apparentlyintricate cases are easily solved by one chance discovery!--she hadn'tbeen talking to Bigglesforth ten minutes before she was on the righttrack. Bigglesforth, when he'd got to know the main features of the case, was willing enough to help, and your aunt immediately brought him roundhere to see me. And I knew at once that we'd got right there!"

"Yes--but how, exactly?" asked Viner. 

"Bigglesforth, " answered Drillford, "told me that he'd suppliedstationery to Dr. Cortelyon for some time, and he'd no doubt that thepaper and envelope described by Miss Penkridge was some which he'dspecially secured for the Doctor. But he told something far moreimportant: Six months ago Cortelyon went to Bigglesforth and asked him ifhe could get him a good second-hand typewriter. Now, Bigglesforth had avery good one for which he'd no use, and he at once sold it to Cortelyon. Bigglesforth didn't mention the matter to his customer, for the machinewas perfect in all other respects, but one of the letters wasdefective--broken. That was the same letter, Mr. Viner, which wasdefective in the document which Cave showed to you gentlemen and spoke ofpreviously in court!"

"Extraordinary!" muttered Viner. "What a piece of luck!"

"No, sir!" said Drillford, stoutly. "No luck at all--just a bit of goodcommon-sense thinking on the part of a shrewd woman. But you'll want toknow what we did. I was so absolutely certain of the truth of MissPenkridge's theory that I immediately made preparations for a descent onCortelyon's house. I got a number of our best men--detectives, ofcourse--and we went round to Markendale Square, back and front. Inquiryshowed that Cortelyon was out, but we'd scarcely got that factascertained when he drove up in a taxicab with Cave himself. Theyhurriedly entered the house--I myself was watching from a good point ofvantage, and I saw that both men were, to say the least, anxious andexcited. Then I began to make final preparations. But before I'd finishedtelling my men exactly what to do, another party drove up--yourcompanion, Miss Wickham, Mrs. Killenhall. She too entered. Then Imoved--quick. Some of us went to the front--I with the others went in bythe back. We made straight for Cortelyon's surgery, and we were on himand the other two before they'd time to move, literally. The two mencertainly tried to draw revolvers, but we were too many for 'em, and asthey'd tried that game, I had 'em handcuffed there and then. It was allan affair of a moment--and of course, they saw it was all up. Now, equally of course, Mr. Viner, in all these cases, in my experience, thesubordinates immediately try to save their own skins by denouncing theprincipal, and it was so in this instance. Mrs. Killenhall and Cave atonce denounced Cortelyon as the mainspring, and the woman, who's aregular coward, got me aside and offered to turn King's evidence, andwhispered that Cortelyon actually killed Ashton himself, unaided, as helet him out of his back door into Lonsdale Passage!"

"So--that's settled!" exclaimed Viner. 

"Yes, I think so, " agreed Drillford. "Well, we brought 'em all here, andcharged 'em, and examined 'em. Nothing much on Cave, who, of course, isprecisely what Hyde said he was--a man named Nugent Starr, an oldactor--if he was as good a performer on the stage as he is in privatelife, he ought to have done well. But on Mrs. Killenhall we found tenthousand pounds in Bank of England notes, and one or two letters fromCortelyon, which she was a fool for keeping, for they clearly prove thatshe was an accessory. And on Cortelyon we'd a big find! That diamond thatAshton used to carry about, the other ring that Ashton was wearing whenhe was murdered, and--perhaps most important of all--certain papers whichhe'd no doubt taken from Ashton's body. "

"What are they?" demanded Viner. 

Drillford glanced at Miss Wickham. 

"Well, " he said, "I've only just had time to glance at them, but I shouldsay that they affect Miss Wickham in a very surprising fashion, and Ishall be glad to hand them over to her solicitors as soon as they comefor them. They're birth certificates, burial certificates, marriagecertificates, and a complete memorandum of a certain case, evidentlywritten out with great care by Ashton himself. And of course, knowingwhat I do now, it's very clear to me how Ashton's murder came about. Cortelyon knew that if Ashton was out of the way, and he himself inpossession of the papers, he could use some, suppress others, and foistoff an accomplice of his own as claimant to a title which, from what I'veseen, appears without doubt to belong to--"

Drillford was again glancing at Miss Wickham, but Viner contrived to stopany further revelations and got to his feet. 

"Extraordinary!" he said. "But--my aunt? Where is she?"

"She remained here until we'd safely caged the birds, " answeredDrillford. "Then she said she'd go home. And I suppose you'll findher there. "

Viner took his companion away from the police-station in silence. But atthe end of the street Miss Wickham looked back. 

"Are those three people really locked up--in cells--close by where wewere sitting with the inspector?" she asked. 

"Just so, " answered Viner. 

"And will they all be hanged?" she whispered. 

"I sincerely hope one will!" exclaimed Viner. 

"What, " she inquired, "did the inspector mean about the papers found onDr. Cortelyon? I have some uneasy feeling that--"

"I think you 'd better wait, " said Viner. "There'll have to be somequeer explanations. We must let Mr. Pawle and Mr. Carless know of what'shappened--they're the proper people to deal with this affair. "

And then, as they turned into Markendale Square, they saw Mr. Pawle andMr. Carless, who, with Lord Ellingham, were hurrying from Miss Wickham'shouse in the direction of Viner's. Mr. Carless quickened his pace andcame toward them. 

"I was so upset when I heard from Perkwite that Miss Wickham has been inthat house in Whitechapel, " he said, "that, on learning she'd gone offwith you, Viner, Lord Ellingham and I drove to Pawle's and brought him onhere to learn if she'd got home and what had happened. "

"What had happened?" demanded Mr. Pawle. "What is it, Viner?"

Viner gathered them round him with a look. 

"This has happened!" he said. "The whole thing's solved. Ashton'smurderer is found, and he and his accomplices are under lock and key. Listen, and I'll tell you all that's been done since one o'clock, uphere--while we've been at the other end of the town. But I'll only giveyou an outline. Well, then--"

The three men listened in dead silence until Viner had repeatedDrillford's story; then Mr. Pawle glanced round at the window ofViner's house. 

"Miss Penkridge, by all that's wonderful!" he said in a deep voice. "Mostextraordinary! Where is she?"

"At home, I should imagine, " answered Viner with a laugh. 

"Then, my dear sir, by all means let us pay our respects to her!" saidMr. Pawle. "A tribute!"

"By all means!" exclaimed Mr. Carless. "A just tribute--richlydeserved!"

"I should like to add my small quota, " said Lord Ellingham. 

Viner led the way into his house and to the drawing-room. MissPenkridge, in her best cap, was calmly dispensing tea to the two Hydesisters, who were regarding her with obvious admiration. She lookedround on her nephew and the flood of callers as if to ask what most ofthem were doing there. And Viner, knowing Miss Penkridge's peculiarhumour, rose to the occasion. 

"My dear aunt, " he said in a hushed voice, "these gentlemen, having heardof your extraordinary achievement this afternoon, have come to lay atyour feet their united tribute of--"

Miss Penkridge shot a warning glance through her steel-rimmed spectacles. 

"Don't talk nonsense, Richard!" she exclaimed sharply. "Ring the bell formore cups and saucers!"

CHAPTER XXIX

WHO IS TO TELL HER?

But Viner, instead of ordering the teacups, whispered a word or two toMiss Penkridge, and then beckoned Lord Ellingham and the two solicitorsto follow him out of the room. He silently led them to his study andclosed the door. 

"Miss Wickham will be all right for a while under my aunt's care, " hesaid, with a smile that had a certain meaning in it which was not loston Mr. Pawle or on Mr. Carless, "but there are matters connected withher which ought not to wait, even for ten minutes hanging round MissPenkridge's tea-table. Now, I have been thrown headlong into this case, and like all the rest of you, I am pretty well acquainted with it. And Itake it that now that the murder of Ashton has been solved, the realquestion is--what is the truth about the young lady who was certainlyhis ward?"

"That is right!" exclaimed Mr. Pawle. "Carless--and Lord Ellingham--I amsure, agree with me. "

"Absolutely--as far as I'm concerned, " asserted Mr. Carless. "HisLordship will speak for himself. "

Lord Ellingham answered Viner's smile with one equally frank. 

"I don't know whether I'm Lord Ellingham or not!" he said. "I have hadconsiderable doubt on that point ever since our conference the otherday. But I will say this, gentlemen: I had some conversation with MissWickham the other day, after we left your office, Mr. Carless, when shewas kind enough to allow me to escort her home, and--well, to be frank, gentlemen, whether she is my cousin or not, I--to me an old-fashionedphrase--desire her better acquaintance! And if she is my cousin, why, then--the title is not mine but hers!"

The two lawyers exchanged significant glances. 

"Admirably spoken, My Lord!" said Mr. Pawle. "Excellent!"

"It is just what I would have expected of his Lordship, " remarked Mr. Carless. "I have known His Lordship since he was first breeched! But Ibelieve Mr. Viner has something to say?"

"Yes--this, " answered Viner. "Drillford found on Cortelyon the paperswhich are missing from those which Ashton had evidently kept togetherwith a view to proving his ward's right to the title and estates. He is asharp, fellow, Drillford, and he told me just now that he had glancedover those papers since Cortelyon's arrest, and he--well, I only juststopped him from letting out to Miss Wickham who--if the papers and thededuction to be drawn from them are correct--she really is. I am rightin supposing, " he continued, suddenly interrupting himself, "that theEllingham title runs in the female as in the male line?"

"Quite right, Mr. Viner, " said Mr. Carless. "Quite right. It does! Ibelieve I mentioned the other day that there has already been oneCountess of Ellingham in her own right. The male line came to an end atone period--the daughter of the last male holder succeeded, and the manwhom she married took the family name of Cave-Gray, and their eldest son, of course, succeeded on the death of his mother. Quite right, sir. "

"Then, " suggested Viner, "don't you think it would be advisable, ratherthan that Lord Ellingham should be kept in suspense, that we should goround to the police-station and inspect the documents? I don't knowwhether Drillford will give them up until his prisoners have been broughtbefore the magistrate, but he said he would give them to the properpersons eventually, and in any case he will show them to you threegentlemen. "

"Good!" said Mr. Pawle. "Let us go at once--it is only a fewminutes' walk. "

"And in the meantime, " suggested Mr. Carless, "Miss Wickham might beasked to remain here--under the wing of the excellent Miss Penkridge?"

Viner laughingly remarked that he had no doubt whatever that MissPenkridge would willingly assume this position of trust, and leading hiscallers into the hall, left them for a moment while he returned to thedrawing-room. He was smiling when he returned. 

"I think Miss Wickham will be safe for some time, " he said. "Horrified asshe is at the conduct of the wicked Mrs. Killenhall, she is sufficientlyfeminine to be taking a vast interest in my aunt's account of how shebrought off her wonderful stroke of genius this afternoon. So--shall wego round?"

Drillford, found alone in his office, showed no surprise when Vinerbrought in and introduced his companions. He already knew the twolawyers, and exchanged comprehending words with them, but he looked atLord Ellingham with the same interest which Viner had seen in him whenMiss Wickham was present. 

"Of course, you may see the whole lot, gentlemen, " he said as he unlockedthe drawer. "I don't want you to take these things away now, though, because we'd like to produce them when these people are brought uptomorrow morning. But after they've been shown, I'll hand them over--andin the meantime you can rely on it that they'll be taken care of--rather!Well, now, here's the missing ring! Hyde, you know, admitted to pickingup one--this is the other, without doubt. And--there's thefifty-thousand-pound diamond. Of course, Cortelyon robbed Ashton afterhe'd killed him as a piece of bluff--what he wanted was these papers. Heevidently gave Cave, or Starr, his accomplice, certain of the papers, toplay the game with, but the really important ones he kept in his ownpocket, where I found 'em. There you are, gentlemen. "

He handed over a stout linen-lined foolscap envelope to Mr. Carless, andthat gentleman, whose fingers trembled a little in spite of hisdetermined attempt to preserve his professional coolness, drew certainpapers from it, and laying them on a desk close by, beckoned the othermen to his elbows, and began to examine them. For several minutes thefour pairs of eyes ran over the various documents, Mr. Carless' fingerpointing to one particular passage or another during their hasty perusal, and he and Mr. Pawle nodding assent as they exchanged glances andmuttered remarks. 

"Not a doubt of it!" exclaimed Mr. Carless suddenly. "Not one doubt!Observe the extraordinary care which the missing Lord Marketstoke took tosafeguard his own interests and those of his daughter, in case he everwished to revive his claims. Here, for instance is his marriagecertificate. You see, he took good care to be married in his own real, proper, legal name! Here, again, is the birth certificate of hisdaughter. You see how she is described--Avice Wickham Cave-Gray, daughterof, et cetera, et cetera. And here is his death certificate--that too isall in order. You see, all these are duly attested copies--we could, ofcourse, insist on having them verified over there, but I've no doubtabout their genuineness--what do you say, Pawle?"

"I should say there's no doubt whatever, " answered Mr. Pawle readily. "But now, this memorandum, evidently written by Ashton himself, inLondon, soon after he got here?"

Mr. Carless ran his eye over the document which Mr. Pawle indicated. 

"Aye!" he said. "A most important, most valuable piece of evidence. Yousee that Cortelyon's name is mentioned in it. What's he say--'_The onlyman besides myself who is in full possession of the facts_, ' Gad--that'llhang this scoundrel! Yes, here it is--the full history of the case, verylucidly summarized; he must have been a very good business man, thisunfortunate Ashton, poor fellow! But what's this he's put at the end, asa sort of note?"

"'Since arriving in England and making inquiries in London and aboutMarketstoke and Ellingham as to the character and abilities of the youngman who is the present holder of the title and estates which are by rightmy ward's I have had considerable doubt as to whether or not I shouldexercise the discretion extended to me by her father. Having nobody of myown, I have left her all my fortune, which is a handsome one, and shewill be a rich woman. The young man seems to be an estimable andpromising young fellow, and I am much exercised in mind as to whether itmight not be best if Cortelyon and I kept the secret to ourselves untilour deaths. '"

Mr. Carless read this passage aloud, and then smote the desk heavilywith his hand. 

"There's the secret of the murder!" he exclaimed. "You see, gentlemen, Ashton, one holder of the secret, was honest; the other, Cortelyon, was arogue. Ashton wanted nothing for himself; Cortelyon wanted to profit. Cortelyon saw that by killing Ashton he alone would have the secret; heevidently got two accomplices who were necessary to him, and he meant, bysuppressing certain facts and enlarging on others, to palm off animpostor who--mark this!--could be squared by one hundred thousandpounds! Oh, a bad fellow! Keep him tight, Mr. Inspector, keep him tight!"

"You needn't bother yourself, Mr. Carless, " answered Drillfordlaconically. "We'll see to that!"

Mr. Carless again cast an eye on the passage he had just read, and then, touching Lord Ellingham's arm, drew his attention to it again, whisperingsomething in his ear at which the young man's cheek reddened. Then hegathered up the papers, carefully replaced them in their linen-linedenvelope, and handed them to Drillford. 

"Much obliged to you, " he said. "Now, at what time are these miscreantsto be put in the dock tomorrow? Ten sharp? Then, " he declared, with ashrewd glance, "I shall be there--and in all my experience I shall neverhave set eyes on a worse scoundrel than the chief one of 'em! Now, gentlemen, shall we go?"

Outside, Mr. Carless took Lord Ellingham's arm. 

"You know what this really means--to you?" he said. 

Lord Ellingham laughed. 

"Of course!" he answered. 

"Remember, " continued Mr. Carless, with a knowing glance at Mr. Pawle, "you needn't give in without a struggle! You can make a big fight. You'rein possession; it would take a long time to turn you out. You can havelitigation--as much as ever you wish. But--I don't think there's theleast doubt that the young woman we're going back to is your cousin, andtherefore Countess of Ellingham. "

"Neither do I!" said his client with a smile. "Nor, I think, doesMr. Pawle?"

"Not a doubt of it!" affirmed Mr. Pawle. 

"Very well, " said Mr. Carless, and pulled his companions to a halt. "Then--the question now is--who is to tell her?"

The two lawyers and Viner looked from one another to Lord Ellingham--butLord Ellingham was already eager and responsive. 

"Gentlemen, " he said quickly, "I claim that right! If I am to abdicatein favour of another, let me have at any rate the privilege of firstgreeting the new sovereign! Besides, as I have already said to you--"

Mr. Carless interrupted him by pointing toward Viner's house, of whichthey were now in sight. 

"I dare say our friend Viner, who has, as he says, been strangely mixedup in this strange affair, can manage matters, " he said dryly. "And asthings are, nothing could be better!"

Viner took his companions back into his library, and opening a door, showed Lord Ellingham a small study which lay beyond. 

"I'll bring Miss Wickham to you at once, " he said. Then, with a glance atthe two lawyers, which went round again to Lord Ellingham, he addedquietly, "When you have told her, you'll let us know what she says?"

"Aye, aye!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "Good--we must know that!"

Viner went away to the drawing-room and presently brought Miss Wickhamback with him. She looked from one solicitor to the other with somethingof a smile. 

"More mystery?" she asked. 

Mr. Carless, with a courtly bow, took the girl's hand. 

"My dear young lady, " he said, "there is, this time, a mystery to beexplained. And--allow me to hand you into this room--there is a younggentleman in here who will explain it, all of it, a thousand times betterthan we old fogies possibly could!"

He closed the door on her, and turned to Mr. Pawle. 

"I'll trouble you for a pinch of that old snuff of yours, Pawle!" hesaid. "Um--dear me! What extraordinary moments we do pass through!Viner, my dear fellow, you're a book-collector, I know. To--er--pass thetime, show me some of your treasures. "

Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, went by, while Viner showedsome of his most treasured possessions in the way of print and binding tothe two old lawyers. They were both past masters in the art ofmake-believe, and they contrived to show great interest in what wasexhibited to them, but Viner knew very well that when Mr. Pawle wasexpatiating on the merits of an Elzevir or Mr. Carless on the beauties ofa Grolier, they were really wondering what the two young people in thenext room, so strangely thrown together, were saying to each other. Andthen, as he was about to unlock a cabinet, and bring out a collection ofautograph letters, the door of the inner room was opened, and the twoappeared on the threshold, one looking extremely confident, and the otherfull of blushes and surprise. And--they were holding each other's hands. 

"Gentlemen--our very good friends, " said Lord Ellingham, "it is onlyright that we should take you into our confidence at once. There will beno litigation, Mr. Carless--no difficulties, Mr. Pawle. I absolutelyinsist on resigning--what is not mine--to my cousin, the Countess ofEllingham. And--not in any return, gentlemen!--she has promised to giveme something which I shall prize far more than any title or anyestate--you understand? And now, if Mr. Viner will excuse me, there arejust a few more things we have to say to each other, and then--"

He drew the girl back into the room and closed the door, and the threemen, once more left to themselves, solemnly shook hands with each other, heaving sighs of infinite delight and gratification. 

THE END