THE Sealed Tower.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2662, 2 June 1908, Page 2

THE Sealed Tower.

By Alice and Claude Askew. Authors of "A Scarlet Sin." "The Shulamite," "Anna of the Plains," &.C., &c.

'ALL BIGHTS RESERVED.

TWELFTH INSTALMENT

CHAPTER XX

The two young men were standing by the door of the hotel. Jocelyn had passed through the streets of York seeing nothing, his steps turning mechanically in the direction he wished to go, all his attention riveted upon the story his friend had to tell. It was all very easy for the latter to say, 'Don't try to put two and two together yet : listen to the simple facts," but naturally from the moment when Reggie had first spoken of the conspiracy brought to light by the investigations into the Hampstcad murder, and which seemed in some way connected with the doings in Kelton Castle, Jocelyn had applied himself to the task of fitting the links of evidence together.

He had come to the one inevitable conclusion : the Travises were _ the leading spirits of this criminal organization that had so far defied detection, and his father, himself a Travis, was. of all men. the one who had desired the death of Paul Martin. Was it not in the mistaken belief of the latter's death that he had nrawn up the will disinheriting Jocelyn ? Then, finding himself in error, he had sought to kill his enemy after the manner described by Frank Burnell. Oh. it was all very plausible, very possible, but Jocelyn's' brain reeled as the terrible truth came home to him. Well it was for him that there had been no love lost between him and this man who was his father ! Had this been so—had he ever had cause to respect or be in sympathy with Ralph Kennedy—how infinitely more tragic would these revelations have been !

But his father had never been good to him. and moreover, had always treated Mary Kennedy, whom Jocelyn loved dearly, with a cruelty that was almost savage in its intensity. Jocelyn felt that his mother's fl a'h was solely due to this man's brutalit*-. Had he not also killed his first wife under circumstances that were practically similar, and was he not. even upon the admission of Nathan Oliver, a refugee from justice ? There could be no difficulty in believing him guilty of this new offence.

"It's hard to bear." Reggie whispered to his friend, "and it's very terrible, too. It seems almost worse since we have been obliged to talk things over in this matter-of-fact way while walking through the streets. But there was no time, Jocelyn, to break it to you more gently ; you had to know everything before we came to this hotel—before of your own accord, you asked to see Frank Burnell." Jocelyn nodded. His face was very stern, his lips compressed. "It is a bright lookout on life that is left to me." he muttered. "The son of a criminal, perhaps, without a name—though even if I have a name it is one of which I should be ashamed—penniless, too,—my prospects are none of the best, are they ? " He laughed, half satirically. "Courage ! " murmured the other, sympathetically. "We have not yet come to the end of the chapter. Jocelyn, and we do not know what may befall. You are not responsible for the sins of your father, and no one will think the worse of you personally because he may prove to 1h? a villain. You have friends, and you have something more than that—you have love."

"Yes. I have love," returned Jocelyn ; "thank God for that. And it is for my love, if nothing more, that lam fighting. Come, Reggie, I'm quite ready ; let us see if we shall be lucky enough to find Mr. Burnell." Almost as he spoke a man appeared in the doorway of the hotel—a man whom Reggie immediately recognized. He emerged from the door just as they were about to enter. He had a preoccupied air. and would have passed them by, hurrying down the few broad steps that Ml up to the hotel, had not Reggie excitedly called out his name. "Dalton ! "

The detective drew up suddenly. "Why. it's you, Painton," he cried. "I am surprised to see you. Ho\r did you succeed in tracing our man to this hotel ? " He spoke in low tones in order that his words should not be overheard by Reggie's companion. .Tocelyn could feel tho man's sharp eyes scrutinizing him. "We have come here in search of Mr. Darnell," Reggie said, quickly. "My friend here. Mr. Jocelyn Kennedy " he turned so as to bring •Tocelyn into the conversation—"is as anxious to meet Mr. Burnell as you or I can be. It is he who has brought me here. But I can guess what you have to tell me," he added "for you would not be coining away alone if you had been successful. I am afraid that our slippery friend has eluded us once more."

Palton shrugged his shoulders and smiled. He was rather a small man. dapper and particularly neat in dress. He wore a carefully trimmed beard and moustache, but the regularity of his features was marred by a scar upon his upper lip which Ihfi moustache only half concealed. This scar caused the lip to be drawn up on one side, and gave the impression of a constant, and rather cynical smile. The detective's eyes were grey and surmounted by rather bushy nark brows.

"You are quite right. Tainton." he remarked. "Rurnell appears to have left the hotel in a hurry. I cannot understand it. for it is he himself who wired to me to join him here. I was surprised at this, for, as you know. I did not expect to hear from him again. His message came after I had left London, but it was wired on to me. I hurried here only to learn that he had just gone. There was a lady with him. they tell me—his sister, no doubt—but she has gone. too. She has been at the hotel some days, but he only came here last night." Reggie's face fell. It was cruel to have lteen so near success and yet to have failed ; then his features cleared again ami he* smiled. "Well, it can't be helped.".he said, "the only thing we can congratulate ourselves upon is being so close to the track, and I am glad to know that Agnes is with her brother. It looks, too. as if Hum.-II meant to keep faith wiih you. If he has only left the hotel a little while you should be able to

trace him, Dalton. And in the meantime, my friend here has some information to give you which you will, no doubt, be interested to hear. There has been an extraordinary development, and I think we might safely say that we have at last something to go upon." "Right." ret tuned Dalton. brusquely. "I shall be glad to hear anything that Mr. Kennedy has to tell me and particularly pleased if it is connected with the matter we have in hand. I'll just give some instructions to my man. who is waiting for me at the corner of the street, and then I shall be at your disposition. If you'll go on into the smoking room of the hotel. I'll join you there in five minutes. You'll lind that they have got some rather good whisky, and cigars which I can easily recommend to you." He nodded, and then hurried off. Reggie led the way into the hotel, and after due inquiry from the hall porter, conducted his friend to the smoking-room of which the detective had spoken, where, after a few minutes had elapsed, they were rejoined by Dalton. to whom now Reggie formally introduced Jocelyn. The three men seated themselves in the comfortable armchairs which the smoking room provided. "You must tell me how you fared at Dereham." the detective then remarked. "I expected to see you in the course of to-day. Painton. but certainly not here. Did you lear,n anything at Dereham Place ?" "Nothing at all." returned Reggie, "or. rather, nothing that could be of use to us. I asked for Mr. Bunnell, and was told that he was in London and not expected in Yorkshire. There was a surly manservant who simply shut the door in my face. The old house—it's a queer place, like a farm converted into a gentleman's residence—had all its shutters up as if it were ■ quite unoccupied. But I had my suspicions that there was some one inside besides the old caretaker, whom I interviewed. But of course I couldn't force my way beyond the door, I hung about, but found no one else -whom I could question. I was inclined at first to believe that Burnell himself might be in the house, but later on I came across a workman—a gardener or something of the sort—who professed to have lieen at Dereham Dace that day. He told me. and I had no reason to doubt his word, that Frank Burnell was not there, though a couple of friends of his—foreign gentlemen. I think he said they were—had recently arrived by boat at Kelton. and were staying for a day or two at Dereham before going on to London. That was as much as I could ascertain. The man T spoke to was slow of intellect though he certainly knew the value of a florin. 1 spent the night at the inn by Dereham station, and the landlord there confirmed the statement that the owner of Dereham Place had not himself been seen in the neighbourhood for some months. The house. he said, was generally shut up unless Mr. Burnell happened to occupy it with a party of frinds and when he did so. as far as T can make out. there used to be high jinks at Dereham Place—a lot of gambling and that sort of thing—and the folks round about did not look with eyes of pleasure upon either Mr. Burnell or his friends. There, that's as much as I have ascertained, and had it not been for a lucky meeting with my friend Kennedy, 1 should have felt that I had made no progress. But as it is—well, you shall bear Mr. Kennedy's story for yourself." All this while Jocelyn very naturally was in a fever of excitement. His one desire was to have done with this interview and set out again for Kelton. Fay had evidently been in error and perhaps the error might be of dire import to herself. He seemed to hear her calling to him. He fidgeted in his chair, and more than once opened his mouth as if ahout to Interrupt Reggie Painton's speech. As soon as the latter had concluded, he rose from his chair, and spoke. "Look here. Ilegeio." he said. "1 want to cet hack to K 'lton us soon as ever 1 can. Siiwe we have failed tf> find Mr. I'.urivli there nothing else left for in-- to do. I'm afraid for Fay. and I wan ;•• he with her. H"a\en only knows what danger she may be in. And this is what I suggest. Yon knew the whole story and you can tell it to Mr. Dalton. I don't want to conceal anything : 1 want to help you to the full extent of my power. But I shan't l>e easy in my mind till I see Fay again. 1 don't know when there's a train, but I'll go to the station and wait." He fingered his watch nervously.

"To Kelton ? " The detective ensconced himself in his chair, and stared curiously at the impatient young man. "Did I understand you to say, Mr. Kennedy, that you are anxious to return to Kelton ? "

"Yes." Jocelyn stooped and picked up his hat, which ho had dropped on the floor by the side of his chair.

"Do you know anything of Kelton Castle ? "

"Here Reggie intervened. "Mr. Kennedy knows a groat deal ahout Kelton Castle." ho said. "In fact ho has just come from there. It is of Kelton Castle that ho has to speak to you. What have you learnt of it ? "

"This promises i.» be interesting." remarked Palton musingly : "but wait a minute. Since our voting friend hen- appears so anxious to be off. we had belter consult limetables before we do anything else. Though I am not well acquainted with this pari of the world. T fancy the trains in that particular direction arc few and far between." He rose leisurely and touched the electric bell. When the waiter appeared he asked that a time-table should be brought to him. "The interest 1 take in Kelt on is this." he went on. quietly, resuming his seat. "1 have been occupying myself in London attempting to trace the movements of the other man for whom we are in search, and T have not been altogether unsuccessful." "The other man ? Do you mean Paul Martin ?" asked Reggie, eagerly. Then noticing that the detective's eyes were fixed upon Jocelyn, he resumed quickly : "You may speak without hesitation before my friend, for. as 1 have already told you. he knows everything, and it is very much to his interests that he should act with us. I can indeed promise you a surprise when you hear all his story."

The detective stroked his beard

"Yes." he said. "I succeeded in coming across some traces of the man Martin. ft is a fact that he was at Ilampstead on the night of the murder, though he never went to Pyne Lodge. He appears to have had every intention of doing so,

however, and it is quite reasonable to presume, as was suggested by Burnell himself, that he somehow contrived to get wind of the intention to murder him, and so made himself scarce. He seems to be a peculiar and erratic sort of individual—a feeble old man—yet possessed of a remarkably active brain. I have learned that he was in London the day after the murder, and that he then travelled north. I have, in fact succeeded in tracing him to Kelton. Not indeed, to Kelton Castle, and I have no particular reason for concluding that he went there, but the mention of the little town of Kelton recalled to my mind the curious case of some twenty-five or twenty-six years ago which I vaguely remember though I was quite a young man at the time. It was a case of "

"I know the case to which you refer well enough," interrupted Jocelyn with a shudder. "I believe that Kelton Castle was notorious throughout England at the time. I have good reasons for knowing it. But I have just come from Kelton Castle—l have been living there, in fact, for the last few weeks—and I have no reason to think that the man of whom you speak has been there." "Xor I. either," returned Dalton, slowly. He had. as Reggie had pointed out, a very slow way of speaking, at times almost aggravating to the listener. "At Kelton village my informant seems to have lost sight of Paul Martin. There was no particular object in shadowing him at that time, you see. It is mere chance that I have been able to learn so much of his movements. But the mention of Kelton recalled the castle to my mind, since it was a place of mystery in my young days, and made a great impression on me. Ah, here is the waiter with the time-table," he added. "Now we will see if there is any chance for you to get an early train back. But I would much sooner have heard what you have to say about the case from your own lips." As it transpired Jocelyn was to tell his own story, for on consulting the time-table it was very quickly evident that Jocelyn could not return to Kelton till the afternoon. He had just missed the morning train, and there was not another that went through till between three and four o'clock. There was nothing for it but to possess his soul in patience, and agree to the detective's suggestion that the three of them should take lunch together at the Regency Hotel.

"For there's nothing that I can do cither, for an hour or so." Dalton remarked. "I told my man that I should wait here for his report, and he may be busy for some little time to come."

"And I think it's quite likely," put in Reggie, "that, we may all have to take the train to Kelton. If the castle was a place of mystery a quarter of a century ago. it's none the less so now. judging at least, from my friend Kennedy's experience. And if it was notorious then there seems to be every prospect that it will be considered infamous in the near future."

"This sounds quite interesting." Dalton's satirical smile seemed aggravated as he spoke. "And now, before lunch, perhaps Mr. Kennedy will take me into his confidence?" He leaned hack comfortably in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and fixing his eyes upon his neatlyshod foot. Jocclyn found it very difficult to repeat his story for the second time that day. Jl was no easy tale to tell, reflecting as it did upon his own parentage, touching so nearly upon the life of the girl he had grown to love, necessitating too. his constant reference to his dead mother. It had been more easy to speak to Reggie who was a personal friend of his, a young man of his own age. and of whose sympathy he was becoming assured. TJut now. in unbosoming himself to this dapper little man who sat well back in his chair, his eyes half closed, interrupting only when he needed some point more clearly elucidated. .Joeelyn felt as 1 hough he were indeed making his troubles known to the world—that this was the first step towards a publicity which he feared and hated. Hut he was forced to speak : there was no other course open to him now. The whole matter had become one of such weighty importance that alone, he was powerless to deal with it. And if Fay were exposed to any danger, he must hasten to bring aid and to whom could he look for aid now but to the police? Certainly she had not asked him to appeal to the police. She had not appeared to have the smallest doubt as to his success in finding Frank Hurnell. Probably she did not know the difficulties with which this individual was surrounded. How could she guess that he himself was being followed by the police ? Since Joeelyn had left Kelton Castle the whole matter had assumed a new aspect altogether, and he felt that he was right—that he was betraying no confidence in acting as he did. So once again, with the occasional assistance of Reggie Painton. he told the whole story of his life at Kelton Castle, sketching briefly, too, as it seemed necessary, the history of his parents and of his own early life. There was hardly anything which he could tell which did not seem to bear upon the case—granting that the truth was as he suspected, and that the Ira vises were at the head of a criminal organization which Dalton had made it his business to combat. Accustomed as he was to the narration of strange stories. Dalton could not refrain now and again from an exclamation of surprise. And when Joeelyn reached the end. terminating by describing how he and lleggie Painton had opened the packet and found nothing but blank pages therein. Dalton sat bolt upright ami struck the table sharply with his clenched fists. "Tiy Jove ! " he cried, "this makes everything clear indeed. We have come upon the very stronghold of the conspiracy. How the work was carried on remains to be seen but I can fonn a pretty clear idea of it already. "Forgive me, Mr. Kennedy if I say little to express my sympathy with you "—he turned friendly eyes upon Joeelyn as he spoke—"but indeed, the position in which Fate has been cruel enough to place you is one which no word of sympathy can do real justice to. For your sake "—he lowered his voice—"! am glad that, your father is dead." "Yes," repeated Joeelyn. "I am glad that my father is dead." Ho paused and then asked in a trembling tone : "Tell me, do you think that Fay—that. Miss Travis is in any danger ? " "Not unless she sets herself in open defiance to her cousin," re-

turned the detective, evidently desirous of soothing the young man's fears, "and this, from what you have said, she is not likely to do. She seems to be very sensible—a very clever girl. Nevertheless, we will not delay any longer than we need, and it seems to me that our best plan will be to get to Kelton by motor-car. "I know where I can order one to be in readiness for us within an hour, and I'll guarantee that we shall reach our destination very much sooner than if we waited for the particularly slow trains that they seem to affect on the smaller lines hereabouts. I shall have some instructions to give and we will have a hurried lunch, then there need be nothing else to delay us."

Jocelyn's face flushed with pleasure. "I'm sure that is the best plan," he said—"the very best plan. But tell me, Mr. Dalton, on what excuse can you present yourself at Kelton Castle ? For as yet there is no direct evidence —at least as far as I can judge—against Gideon Travis."

The detective smiled and stroked his neatly-trimmed beard with a gesture that.was peculiar to him. "There is a reason," he said, complacently, "though it is one that may not have occurred to you. I think I mentioned a little while ago that Paul Martin has been traced to Kelton. I have a warrant for the arrest of Paul Martin. lam going to Kelton Castle in search of him." "But you have no reason to be'lieve that he should be there ? " cried Jocelyn, turning puzzled eyes upon the speaker. "I not only believe that he was there," returned the other slowly, "but I believe him to be still there."

Jocelyn gazed at the detective in bewilderment.

"You believe him to be there ? " he repeated. Mr. Dalton laughed outright. "Have you forgotten your ghost, Mr. Kennedy ?" he asked. "Don't you think that the Grey Man whom you fancied you saw in the picture gallery at Kelton corresponds to the published description of Paul Martin ? '•' CHAPTER XXI. It was as the motor-car drew up at

the door of the hotel, and the three men were ahout to set out upon their journey to Kelton. that the liveried porter approached them with profuse apologies for a mistake that had been made. He was a German, and he spoke with a pronounced accent and with much gesticulation. It appeared that he had not been on duty when Mr. and Miss Burnell had left the hotel that morning and that consequently he had known nothing whatever of a letter which the gentleman had left with the other porter to be handed to a Mr. Dalton should any one of that name inquire for him in the course of the day. The porter had put the letter into his pocket, had gone off duty, and had forgotten all about it. He had just returned and had handed it to his colleague. The tall German produced the letter. He believed that these gentlemen had asked for Mr. Burnell, and ho doubt one of them was the Mr. Dalton to whom the note was addressed. Tt. was a pity, he added, that Mr. Burnell had not left his message at the office of the hotel, for then, of course, no mistake could have occurred. But here was the letter, and it was a matter of congratulation that the mistake had been discovered and rectified in time.

"It might have been a matter of the gravest importance ; perhaps it is," observed Dalton. slowly as he tore open the flap of the envelope. "It may be that we have lost very valuable time." lie quickly scanned the message, then passed it over to his friends with shrug of his shoulders. "It's no use crying over spilt milk," he observed ; "but, of course if we had received this letter we might have set out a couple of hours ago. Burnell appears to have taken the morning train to Kelton. Tt seems incomprehensible to me." he added, "that having wired me his address and begged me to come at once he should have left the hotel without a word But they were very definite at the office as to his having said nothing and left no address. Naturally they were, since this fool of a porter has blundered. Well, it can't be helped." He look the note from Jocelyn's hand, and once more read it carefully. It. was addressed to himself, and was very brief :

"Matters have come to a crisis," so the letter was worded, "and it is of vital importance that T should myself attend to a certain matter. I am going to Kelton. It is a small town lying upon the coast to the north. I want you to follow me there with the smallest possible delay. You will either find me or hear of me at the inn which is close by the station. It may be that help will l>e needed for the arrest of a man who is a dangerous character."

Thai was all. Dalton wasted no time in futile complaint. What was done, was done, and words could not change the situation. He gave some hurried instructions to his subordinatc, who was staying in York, and then bade tin- chauffeur drive on with what haste he might. The car rattled through Ihe streets of the town, and it was not long before they found themselves in the open countrv.

Very little was said between the men upon this journey. Reggie was the only one who Ml disposed to talk, but he. finding that Dal ton and .locel.vn appeared wrapped in their own reflections, soon himself relapsed into silence. It was only as they neared Kelton that Pal lon leaned over to his two companions ami spoke something of what was in his mind.

"It seems as if Mr. Burnell is anxious to help us after all," he observed. "He asked for three days without any interference from the police, and naturally when these three days elapsed without my having heard a word from him, I concluded that he had thought well to make a bolt. 1 can't guess why he was silent, but in the light of what we know now it is clear enough that he has been at work at Kelton Castle or in the neighbourhood of it, though you, Mr. Kennedy knew nothing of it. I don't know what wc shall find when we reach Kelton but it looks very much as if there were exciting times ahead." After having passed this opinion, he changed the subject, and spoke of general matters until the car was brought to a standstill before the door of the Kelton Inn. .locelyn's friend of that morning. Mr. Preston, the innkeeper, Ipirried out to meet them. He recognized .locel.vn with some surprise. 'Why, it's you. Mr.

Kennedy, sir !" he cried. "You've come back quick, and I'm glad to see you, indeed I am."

Jocelyn had been the first to spring out of the car, and was now standing by the innkeeper's side. "You said that you'd be back before many hours, I know," the latter continued, "and you say that you might want my help. Sir, I'm thinking that there are strange things brewing, both here and up at the castle." He pointed with his thumb across his shoulder towards the house behind him. "You were asking me all sorts of questions this morning about Mr. Frank Burnell." he continued—"him as owns the yacht and has a house up at Dereham. Well, he's here," the innkeeper concluded laconically— "him and his sister."

Jocelyn drew a long sigh of relief. At last, then, the time had come, and he was to be brought face to face with the man ho was so anxious to meet. "Mr. Burnell is at your inn ?" he asked, quickly. "We have come in search of him. Did he say that he was expecting any one?" "He did, indeed," returned the other, with a laugh, "and he's been mortally anxious ever since he came. His first question to me was whether the yacht was still in harbour ; but she isn't. She put out very soon after you left this morning, and no doubt she's far away by now. Mr. Burnell seemed downright angry to know this. I think they must have been acting without his instructions and, since the yacht is his, I can understand that ho is vexed. Anyhow he's been walking up and down the parlour, swearing when he's alone, and asking me questions till I'm sick of them—now about the yacht, and now about someone coming from York whom he expects to see. I've told him that no one couldn't get here from York till the afternoon train was in, for I didn't think of anyone turning up in a motor-car. We're not accustomed to them things in this part of the world," he added, turning critical eyes upon the neat car which had brought Jocelyn and his companions to Kelton. "I suppose it's these gents as Mr. Burnell is expecting to see," he concluded. Then, lowering his voice he added : "He's been saying all sorts of things about Mr. Travis up at the Towers—things that I don't rightly understand. He's been talking about the police, and asking if there arc any of them here- in Kelton he can depend upon. He had a chap with him who looks like a policeman, and who tried to quiet him down. I don't know what's become of the fellow, but I suppose it is all right now you've come. All the same I wish I knew what he was driving at, for Mr. Travis has been here at Kelton. to-day, too—both him and Mr. Oliver. I rather fancy they were looking for you, Mr. Kennedy. Anyway there was trouble with one or two of our men down at the harbour, and Mr. Travis and Mr. Oliver had to drive off again pretty smartly, lest they should get their heads broken. I tell you it. has been a lively day for me. and I'm wondering what the end of it will be." The innkeeper had spoken with considerable volubility, but .Jocelyn, preoccupied as he was. thought more of the presence of Frank Burnell at the inn than of the incidents which Mr. Preston was attempting to narrate to him. The detective and Reggie had descended from the car by now, and had been listening impatiently to the last words spoken by the innkeeper. At that momenf, too, a stranger whom Jocelyn at once recognized must be Frank Burnell himself, the man of whom he had heard so much, but bad not yet seen, appeared at. the doorway of the inn. He was a tall, broad-shoul-dered man with a bronzed face, though it, was lined as though from dissipation giving him the appearance of being older than the age attributed to him. He advanced rapidly paying no heed either to Beggie or to Jocelyn. and laid his hand upon the detective's arm. "You have come at last, Dalton!" he cried. "Thank God, you've come ! "

Dalton briefly explained how the delay in York had occurred. "Xot that it mode any real difference," he added, "for had it not been for these friends of mine, I doubt if 1 should have had the inspiration to come on by motor-car. But I think. Mr. Burncll, you owe me an explanation for your silence. I was led to believe that you had reasons of your own for evading the police. However I am glati that this is not so."

Frank Burnell gave a short laugh. "You will understand why T was silent," he said, brusquely, "when T tell you all that I have undergone during the last few days. But come into the inn, where we can talk more quietly. My sister is here but you need have no fear of speaking before her, for she is fully acquainted with all my affairs." lie glanced curiously at Jocelyn and at Reggie. "Are these gentlemen colleagues of yours ?" he inquired. "If so you have done well to bring them, for we may want help in the work that lies before us to-night." The detective smiled slightly and shook his head.

"No, these two gentlemen are not members of the police," he replied, "but they are both ready enough to lend any assistance. This " he turned to Reggie—"is Mr. Painton, whose name may be familiar to you. He is a Pressman, ami has lieen working with me in the case of the Hampstead murder. But there may be another reason why you should know his name." Ilurnell smiled, and cast a not unfriendly glance at Reggie.

"I think yon are a friend of my sister's,'" he observed. "I have heard of yon from hor. She lias been doing her best to run away from you, but it. seems that yon have succeeded in tracing her. I'm not stire that she will be very displeased. But perhaps you'd belter go in first and find her. She is in the parlour of the inn. Xo doubt you will be able to make your peace better by yourselves."

Reggie needed no second invitation and disappeared without another word into the inn.

"1 suppose we'd better give 'them a little time to talk over their affairs." resumed Burnell : "but it can't bo*long, for there's a lot to be done and said between us before night. By-the-by, who is your other friend ? I don't think I know him. do I ? "

"1 think you know of him, though." replied Palton, "for this gentleman is very closely connected with the affairs of Kelton Castle. You see. Mr. Burnell, ] already know in what manner you are concerned with the Travises of Kelton. Chance has brought a great deal to my knowledge since I last saw vou in London

and you will not have so much to explain to me as you may at present imagine. This gentleman is Mr. Jocelyn Kennedy, and he is the bearer of a note to you from Miss Travis." Frank Burnell started as he heard the name, and a look of concern crossed his face ; then he extended his hand. "Of course, your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Kennedy," he said, "painfully familiar. Resides which I know of the interest, taken in you by Miss Travis." He eyed the young man keenly. "If I am not mistaken," he continued, "I think the interest is a mutual one." Jocelyn shook the extended hand, and with a slight blush admitted that the interest, was mutual. "I left Kelton early this morning under peculiar circumstances," he said, quickly. "Miss Travis pave me a note for you—a note begging you to come to her assistance without delay. T was altogether in the dark then as to the dangers that beset her"

Burnell's face was very grave

"I am afraid," he said, slowly, "I have bad news for you. Tt was for the sake of Miss Travis that I left York so hurriedly this morning. I had reason to fear a certain danger for her. I have done my utmost, but. alas ! I reached Kelton too late." "Too late ? " Jocelyn paled, and stepped back. "What do you mean ? What is this danger ? "

"I have reason to believe." returned the other, "that Miss Travis was put on board the yacht this morning, and the yacht is far away from Kelton by now." To be Continued.