FROM THE MILL

Northland Age, Volume 3, Issue 21, 2 January 1907, Page 6

FROM THE MILL

U \ 999/0999 I the Mansion, t on ® Moorland Mystery. **— — % HEDLEY RICHARDS, Author of "The Fatal Blue l)i* luonds," “Tinu*, the Avenger, ” &c., &c. TAUT 7. INTRODUCTION. Rachel Holdsworth. a weaver, about, whose birth there is a mystery, is annoyed by Tom Needham while walking across the moor, outside the town She has taken with her a walkingstick to protect herself against Dan Fletcher, n rough mill hand, who has boon importuning Rachel to marry him. Whilst Needham endeavours to kiss the girl, Middleton Arkwright and . another man named Railton creep up l>ehind the two, and Arkwright, having picked up the walkingstick which Rachel has dropped, deals Needham a terrible blow upon the held, which kills him on the spot. Rachel is then carried o(T through the gates of the Stone House, whose »i stress Arkwright had married some tifwc previously. She is kept a close prisoner there, and finally, after havbeeti drugged,- is taken to a lonely house near London, named The Cedars, where Arkwright has been also konping I.ls wife a prisoner. An inquest is held, and a verdict of wilful murder is brought against Rachel. Jffaamrhilc a certain Lord Glynne, on h;s deathbed, has confessed that he married years before a girl named .Itvsie Holdsworth, and that there *~a.» child named Rachel born of the marriage, to whom he leaves all l»i* property. Mt*. Shalleross, the solicitor, advertises a reward of five hundred pounds to be paid to anywho shall give information as to the whereabouts of Rachel, and a detective is also engaged to investigate the matter. The Rev. John Glynne, who has been looked upon as the heir to the title and estates, shortly after this is mysteriously summoned by a gk-I named Nancy to n dying man, . who is lying in a warehouse by the riverside. Parry, the detective, picks • up n little metal button in one of tho rooms of the Stone House, which is afterwards identified as having bum on the dress worn by Rachel. At The Cedars, Lyddy, the niece of the housekeeper becomes very iii. The doctor is told that she is Mrs. Arkwright. He sends her some powerful medicine, which he confidently expects will make her better, but . Arkwright manages to secretly pour the medicine away and substitute water p —in .the bottle. Lyddy dies the same I rt-’ght. and two days later her funeral 1 tak.-fl place, and the nauic on tie* eof--1 .tin is Amy' Arkwright.

CHAPTER XIII. PLANS AND COUNTER-PLANS. "Dead ! When did she die?" asked Rachel, looking earnestly at Jane, who was clearing the breakfast table while Amy Arkwright regarded the woman with amazement. "Yes, dead and buried," replied Jane. "But she was in this room a week yesterday." exclaimed Amy. "Yes ; she was only ill a few days, and she was buried three days after her death ; so you sec it all happened iu a short time," said Jane. Racltel leaned forward, saying : "Did she die a natural death?""Well. 1 should say brain-fever was natural. She had a tumble. Rlcss my heart, who do you think would put her out of the world ?"

"The man who is keeping us here. Perhaps you don't know how bad he is ? I saw him kill a man on the moor at Bromley, and he and his friend forced me into the Stone House there I was drugged and brought .here to keep this lady coinBH f ‘ That man married her when was living. She found out truth, and was going to leave Hra, but she, too. was drugged and Bought here," said Rachel.

p "Well, you might be in a worse place. That’s a pretty piece of garden you have all to yourselves, and your rooms arc pleasant enough." "But we are prisoners. It is crucT to keep us here. Won’t you help us to get away ? Mrs. Arkwright is rich, and will pay you handsomely," said Rachel.

"Yes, I will give you quite a little fortune. You need never work again," pleaded Amy.

The woman looked from the gentle face of the latter to Rachel, noting her beauty ; then she said : "Yes ; it’s a bit hard on you. But the gentleman who was clever enough to get you both here is my master, and he’s promised to pay me well for holding my tongue ; and it’s to my interest to Keep faith with him," she said, as she took up the tray intending to leave the room.

Rachel stepped forward, saying : * "Don't you feel afraid that somo day we may make you prisoner, then when the housekeeper comes, serve her in the same way ?" Jane laughed. "You wouldn’t easily master me. I’m bigger and tougher than either of you. But, supposing you did manage to get the better of Mrs. Carter and me, there's a big dog lies outside the door that shuts in this end of the house, and he'd tear you to pieces ; then you'd have George, Mrs. Carter's husband, and the man and woman at the lodge to deal with, not to mention the two other dogs that parade the garden. We had to fasten them up when the doctor came to see poor Lyddy, and as for me, they were all made to understand I was a friend, and had the run of the house as soon as I came," she said, as she walked off with the tray. Rachel looked at her companion, saying: "Our chance is gone. If we'd only known there was a doctor coming to

something “when ‘Hils'strange” woman came." "I suppose that was the reason they locked the piano, and told us that it had been done by accident, and that the key was lost. It was open again yesterday," said Amy. "Well. I've not lost heart. I believe wo shall get away. And now shall I begin reading ?" said Rachel. "Yes ; then you can have your imisic lesson afterwards. Do you’ know, Rachel, it’s the first time I've ever boon useful to anyone in my life, so I don’t feel miserable in spite of tho fact that I'm a prisoner?" replied Amy. "Useful ! I should think you are. I know that this reading aloud when you correct my pronunciation is helping me-wonderfully, and the music lessons are a treat."

"You will make a splendid player, Rachel. You are a horn musician, and you have made life quite a different thing since you came. I was losing heart, and I believe I should have gone into a declisc or something ; but now I have you;" and she put her arms round Rachel. Meanwhile Jane Townsend had taken the tray to the kitchen, and having laid it down she went upstairs to her own room ; then unlocking a box she took from it a newspaper that bore the preceding day’s date. "I suspected it last night, but I'm sure of it now," she thought, as she read the advertisement inserted by the solicitor of the late Lord Glynne in which five hundred pounds was offered for information concerning Rachel Holdsworth, really Lady Glynne.

"What shall Ido ? Five hundred pounds isn’t more than I shall get out of the master. No, I must get the girls to look on me as a friend, anti sav I’ll help tfiem to freedom as soon as I can. Then I can make a good bargain with them. I’d trust. Rachel Holdsworth to keep any promise she made, and as for that poor little Mrs. Arkwright she’d give the last penny she had to get free of the man who’s taken her in so. I won’t let them know that Rachel is Lady Glynne till we’re good friends. Then I’ll pretend I’ve just found out, and I must destroy this paper. If it was found in my possession Carter would be suspicious," thought .Tone, who took it in her pocket downstairs, and laid it among some other papers. That same morning Middleton Arkwright called at the office of Holmes and Son, who had been the late Mr. Arkwright’s lawyers, and since his death continued to act for his daughter. The firm of Holmes and Son now consisted of one man. Frederick Holmes—-the senior partner having gone at a ripe old age, where legal advice is not required, and the son being represented by an infant in arms. But the sole available representative looked quite able to cope with any amount of business, and as he turned to welcome Middleton Arkwright, he gave the impression of an alert, keen man.

"Good morning, Mr. Arkwright. I was very much surprised to see this announcement in the papers," he said pointing to one in the death column

"Yes, iny poor wife died very suddenly of brain fever." "I see she died ..t The Cedars. I thought you lived at Queen Anne’s Gate ?"

"So we did. But Amy wasn’t well —she. was nervous aud excited—and I thought she would be better in a quiet place. So I took The Cedars. She was better, but sho slipped down a few stairs, and struck her head, and all was over in a few days." "Who was your doctor ?" asked the lawyer. "I was away at the time, so the housekeeper sent for Dr. Martin. I intended sending for another man the next day, but the end was so sudden." The lawyer frowned as he said : "You don’t mean to say that you trusted the issue to the skill of one man, and lie not well known, Mr. Arkwright. I do not think you did your duty." "It was very sudden, I tell you ; but Dr. Martin can satisfy you on that point," replied Middleton Arkwright. The lawyer bowed ; then he said : "There is another matter surprised me. I see you buried Mrs. Arkwright in London. I should have thought it more fitting to have buried her with her parents." "Yes ; if she had died at the Stone House ; but I didn’t like the idea of taking her there after death.” "I see. By the way, hasn’t The Cedars a bad name ? There have been one or two tragedios there. I shouldn’t say it was a very good place in which to place a nervous girl." "My wife knew' nothing about it. There is a nice garden, and she was very happy there. Now, I think w*o will discuss the business which has brought me here. You hold the will that my poor wife made soon after our marriage. I believe in it she makes me sole heir ?" "That is so," replied the lawyer, curtly. "Then I wish you to take steps to prove it at once. I am going down to the Stone House for a time, but you will not lose any time." The lawyer bowed, but he did not offer to shake hands with his client, and when Arkwright had departed, Holmes stood thinking. "I'll see that doctor. I cannot get it out of my head that there’s something wrong ; but, of course, if he says it’s all right, then I shall be bound to prove the will," he muttered.

Meanwhile Arkwright had returned to his chambers, where Lister Railion w’ho shared them with him, was lounging in an easy chair, smoking. "Well, is it all serene?" he asked, as his friend entered.

"No. I can see that Holmes is suspicious that all isn't square. I dare bet my last shilling that he’ll see the doctor. You see he never liked me, and did his best to persuade Amy not to marry me ; but he’ll not find out anything, so he cannot refuse to prove the will." "The lawyer is a discerning chap," replied Railton. "He’s a fool not to see it’s to his interest to keep in with me." "Very likely. Well, I'vo been thinking matters over, and I’ve decided to go down to The Cedars, and tell Rachel that she is Lady Glynne. Perhaps when she knows how much the world holds'for her she'll consent to marry me," said Railton. "Leave her aldbe. That girl won't give in an incl, *nd from What I

will ’ of her own. t tell you Rachel Holdsworth is dangerous to us." "And I tell you I’m going to her," said his frtend, with a laugh. The next morning Railton appeared at The Cedars, and after a little talk with Mrs. Carter, Rachel was escorted into the room by Jane. "Before we begin to talk, Miss Rachel, I want to point out to you that Carter is busy on the lawn, also I should like you to notice those two dogs lying at ease there, but, comfortable as they look, a stranger's step would rouse them at once and they are merciless ; and the gate is securely locked," said Railton in a light, airy tone. "I quite understand the position ; but you didn’t send for me to tell me this," said Rachel.

"You are quite right. I did not. But ere I come to business, I want to say how. very much you have improved—that your companion, who, I understand is giving you lessons has wonderfully improved you. I think you owe Mr. ArKwright thanks for giving you such an opportunity." "I think you are a’mean coward to speak to me in this way," said Rachel, drawing herself up, indignantly. "Rachel, you look splendid when you a*o in a rage. But I don’t want to vox you, so I’ll tell you what brought me here. I don’t suppose that you have forgotten that I asked you to be my wife, and I'm going to give you a little information that may induce you to say yes. It was said that the reason you visited Elizabeth Banks, on that eventlul night was to try to discover whether your mother had been a wife. You failed, but the truth is now known. A man on his death-bed confessed that he had married her, and that you were his child."

Rachel’s face expressed intense interest, and as he paused, she said :

"Who was the man ? Tell me quickly."

"The man was Lord Glynne ; and as by special attainder the title and estate pass to a female heir, you are now* at the present moment, Rachel, Lady Glynne, of Glynne Hall, Herefordshire."

"I don’t believe it ; you. are telling me this lie for some evil purpose of your own," she said, speaking hastily.

"You are complimenlary, Lady Glynne. But I am only telling you the truth. I grant I have my own ends to serve in taking you into my confidence. I want you to realize what a glorious life you might lead You would bo rich, possessed of a title, and with a devoted husband. You would gain all -this by becoming my wife. Even if I was the most obnoxious fellow on earth, it would be worth it ; but I'm really a good fellow, and I admire you prodigiously, Rachel !"

"It's a lie ; I expect you knew all this when you spoke to me before ; and you wouldn’t have told me now only you thought it a nice little bait. Well, it hasn’t taken. I wouldn’t marry you if I was to be Queen. But I’ll tell you one thing ; we shall get awaj'. Do you think people won’t begin to wonder where Mrs. Arkw’right is ? She is sure to be missed and search will be made.”

Lister Railton smiled slightly as he 9aid :

"My de? r Rachel, Mrs. Arkwright is dead and buried. Her'-husbartwl is at the present moment wearing mourning for her.’ "I know that his true wife is dead but Amy will be missed, and not only tho truth about the marriage will bo known, but there will be the keeping us here to answer for." He drew nearer, as he said : "You don’t understand. Amy Arkwright is buried at Kensal Green Cemetery. When Lyddy died the doctor was told she was Arkwright’s wife, and it was in her name that the certificate) of death was given ; so you see, it is really Lytkly who is your companion. .lust now the lawyer is busy proving Amy’s will. Now you see your only chance of leaving here is as my wife. Riches and a title await you." "And what of Amy ?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I .am afraid she will have to stay here the rest of her life. But think of your future—beautiful, rich, and titled ! Surely you won’t turn your bac«t on it ? Promise to be my wife, and you shall have a glorious future."

"It wouldn’t bo glorious with a villain for my husband. If I didn’t love another man I’d never be your wife ; and as for turning my back on the future, I’ll do no such thing. I’ll face it, and choose to stay here, rather than go away with 3'ou. Now you’ve got the answer of a Lancashire lass, who stands by her word;" and she moved swiftly towards the door, opening it suddenly. Then, as she stepped forward, there was a growl and a huge hound sprang forwards, and would hape caught her by the throat, if Railton had not struck at it with a stick, as he uttered a,word of command.

"I’d half a mind to let it put its fangs in that lovely throat of yours" he said, as Mrs. Carter came forward and hurried her back to her own quarters, where, as soon as Rachel gained the sitting-room, she sank into a chair, looking so ghastly white that Amy exclaimed :

"What have they done to you, dear ?"

"One of the dogs was agoing to spring at me, but that friend of Mr. Arkwright's stopped him. Do you know, he says that my father was Lord Glynne—he confessed on his death-bed—and I'm Lady Glynne, and very rich ; but, of course, I shouldn't believe it, only he wants to marry me, and there must be some reason for that," said Rachel.

"You are very beautiful, dear," said Amy, as she stroked her friend's hair ; "but you won't marry him, Rachel ? Lister Railton is nearly as bad as my husband, and you would be miserable as his wife."

"I shall never marry, him, Amy ; but things are worse than we thought You are supposed to be dead and buried."

An exclamation of horror escaped Amy. "Yes, we are in the hands of two wicked men, who have made a vile plot ; but God will take caito of us, and in His own good time give us our liberty. I feel sure of it. And now, let me tell you what Mr. TftTP ton told me;" and Rachel recounted the story ol now poor Lyddy jad been frgriad in Amy's name.

death, o? Was poisoned ? I know- it sounds a dreadful thing to say, but Middleton is capable of anything,” said Amy., "You may rest assured Mrs. Carter will look well after her. She was very fond of Lyddy," replied Rachel. Just t,hon Jane entered the room, and speaking in a low voice, she said: "I've made up my mind to help you, but I shall have to be very cautious. If they suspected I was friendly towards you, I don’t, think my life would be a long one. So you understand it may bo a Song time before I get you out of this ; but keep up your hearts. The time will come when,you’ll turn your backs on this place.” "And I shall not forget you then," said Amy..

"Neither shall I if it’s true I am Lady Glynne," said Rachel. "It's true enough ; I heard Mr. Railton talking to Carter about it. Now, I mustn’t stay, or she’ll suspect." And Jane departed. CHAPTER XIV. JIM WILL-O’-TH’-WISP. It was a bright morning in November ; there was a touch of frost in the air ; but the sun shone brightly—too brightly for anyone to stay indoors, thought Middleton Arkwright, as he stood at . the window of the morning-room at the Stone House. He had taken up his residence there two months ago, after having paid one or two flying visits, when he had told Mrs. Glue she must increase her staff ; so that now several neat maids—whom the housekeeper ruled with a rod of iron—kept the house in order ; but the only men about tho place Were Glue and his son. There was a strong attraction in Bromley for the master of the Stone House. From the first time he had seen Gertie Needham he had admired her; and now that he was supposed to be a widower, he told himself it was possible he might win her. At any rate he would try ; yes, and if there was any attempt made by Rachel or Amy to escape, he would take care their lives paid the penalty. Of course, no such attempt could be successful ; still, he often thought he would feel more secure of they were dead. Now as he stood by the window he was thinking of Gertie, whom he was beginning to love madly.

"I'll win her ; but if she ever learns the truth !" •he thought ; then he shrugged his shoulders, and, going into the hall, put on his overcoat and hat. Then, as he walked briskly along the winding road, he congratulated himself that things were going so well. The detective had left tho village ; he had not seen him in the neighbourhood for three weeks.

Of course, Holmes, the lawyer, was irritating. Amy’s affairs ought to have been wound up long ago, whereas, though he had a fair amount of money at his command, still were not under his control ; and he was sure that the lawyer was purposely delaying- matters. It must be out of sheer cussedness; the man could not suspect anything. Of course, it was annoying, but he would hurry him up. There was nothing to fear, but for a little while he would have to be cautious. Gertie was a girl who would resent a man talking to her of love very soon after his wife’s death., _ blit before TthTg “Titf~D*rulcT flint to her something of what he felt. She must know he loved her—she was too quick-witted not to have seen it—and she always received him kindly, and seemed pleased to see him ; and if he had the luck to win her, he would settle down and have done with shady life for ever. He would go in for philanthropy, and do good with his money —the money he'd get from Amy. Yes and Gertie would be a great heiress. They would jointly give largo sums to charity, then surely all would go well. No shadow from the past would touch him or the girl he loved.

Busy with his thoughts he strode rapidly forward, and before long reached the Priory. The butler showed him into the drawing-room, where Gertrude and her mother were doing fancy work.

"I have ventured,to bring you this book. It’s one of the latest novels Of-the season," he said, as he handed Gertie a book, after having shaken hands with them both.

"Thank you, I shall read it aloud to mother," she said, as Mrs. Needham lelt the room, the butler having intimated that there was a poor person waiting to see her.

"Your mother isn’t looking well," he remarked, as he noticed what a fragile, delicate-looking woman she appeared, v

"No ; she has altered very much since Tom’s death. She was devotedly attached to him, and his sudden death, was an awful blow. Whoever killed my brother, will have shortened her life, and I wish that person could be found," she said, speaking with unusual fervour.

"Are you so anxious that he should suffer for his sin ?" he asked, looking at her with interest. "Yes ; I believe it would be better for himself, and all the world. I do not say that I should be glad for him to suffer the extreme penalty ; but so long as he goes free, he will go on sinning, and be a danger to other people.”

"You still believe the girl is innocent ?”

"Rachel Holdsworth ? I am sure she is ! By the w j ay don’t you think it was strange that a button belonging to her dress should have been found in a room in your house ?” she said, carelessly. He laughed. "Candidly speaking, I don’t believe the button did belong to her dress, because Glue assures me the girl had never* been in the house ; but I think the detective was an impudent fellow to get the warrant to search the house. It puzzled me that Mr. Hargreaves granted it, but I suppose Charley influenced him. One can understand that he is anxious to find the girl now that she has turned out to be a somebody.”- v Gertie’s eyes flashed.

"That .would not make any difference to Charley. He loved Rachel, not her mi roundings,” she said ; and there was indignation in her torfe. j*You are a warm partisan ; but as

y was saying, I was surprised that “Hargreaves should grant the warrant I didn't want to make any unpleasantness or I should have mentioned it to him. Ro you know on what

rant ?” said Arkwright, looking at the girl, keenly. "I think the detective had some information that made him wish to search the Stone House ; but T. think ihoy need not expect to find Rachel Holdsworth, or rather Lady Glynne, until they find the murderer of'my brother, and they will do that when the man is found over whom Tom had a hold, whose interest it was to get rid of him," she. said, speaking in her usual tone ; and raising her eyes to his, she saw that Middleton Arkwright’s face had become pale, and he started involuntarily.

"Had your brother a hold over some one ?” he asked after a moment "Yes. The afternoon before his death he told Edith Hargreaves that he'd stumbled on a secret, which if he told, the man would be ruined, and he finished by saying, ‘I can tell you the man doesn’t love me.’ ”

While she was speaking Gertie watched her companion closely, and she saw that his face became pale. Then, with an effort, ho rallied enough to say : "This is a singular story, Miss Needham ; but it is hardly likely a man would commit murder to secure the safety of a secret ? It would be worse than having it exposed." Thei he arose and wished her good morning and took his departure. "Is he guilty? I cannot get it out of my head that he knows something of Tom*'- death," she thought. Meanwhile, Arkwright felt very uneasy, as he asked himself if Gertie suspected him, or was she simply confiding in him. Finally he came to the conclusion that the latter supposition was correct. Almost unconsciously he took the road that led to the moor ; then, pulling himself up sharply, he was about to turn back, but decided he would go on and enter by the door that led into the grounds at the back of the Stone House.

As he crossed the soft turf he saw a small boy swing himself off the branches of a big tree on to the top of the wall, then nimbly descend by putting his feet in the crevices of the wall. That he was accustomed to it was apparent, and as Arkwright caught him by the collar of his coat he looked round in amazement.

"What are you doing? Ah, you young thief,” he said, as he saw that a not bag, which was tied round his neck was full of vegetables. "Well, a thief’s better than a murderer. ’’ said the boy, defiantly.

"What do you mean, you youngdog ?” said Arkwright as he swung the boy round, so that he could see his face, but still keeping a firm hold of his collar, and looking at him in a way that would have made a less plucky boy flinch. "I means what I says, and you know it’s the truth,” said the. boy, without any appearance of fear.

"Do you know that I could have you put in prison for taking those things ?" and Arkwright pointed to the bag and its contents.

"I knows it, but you won’t,” he said, in a confident tone.

"Have you ever taken anything out of this garden before ?” asked the master of the Stone House. "Pretty reg’lar. Grannie—she lives over the. moor, nigh the inn—is very poor. She does odd jobs for ’em at the inn, an’ 1 do when I can get ’em but when work’s slack I'm forced to help myself a. bit. You see, Mrs. Glue, and my Grannie' is second eoo"Well, what of that ?” asked Arkwright, who still held the boy firmly

"She’s your housekeeper, and it seems more natural that you should give us a bit of help,” said the boy looking at the man. unblushingly. "But I didn’t .give you these things You stole them, and I’ve a good mind to have you locked up.” "No, you won't, because you see I been here many a night, perched in that tree, waiting to get down, and I’ve seen things. My, haven’t I?" he said, with a chuckle. "You young imp ! What do you mean ?" he asked, angrily ; but in his rage he loosened his hold of the boy’s collar, and in a second he had wriggled himself free and darted away, pausing at a little distance to call out :

"I’ll be coming again, and you won’t tell the police, 'cause it would not be good for you.''

Middleton Arkwright shook his fist at the boy, and he swore an awful oath. Then he put his key into the lock of the garden door at the Stone House and entered the grounds.

"That's what they call unparlimentary langaige, I should say. Whoop ! Helloa ! I've got the best of the cutest man in Bromley," said the boy, in a shrill piping tone ; then out of sheer exuberance of spirits, he executed a somersault or two. But as he stood on his head, a couple of arms were stretched out, and his legs firmly gripped ; then Parry, the detective, rose from behind the boulder, which had hidden Dan on the night of the tragedy. The detective, who had returned to Bromley the previous night, had been crossing the moor, when he caught sight of Middleton Arkwright, and at once hid himself, in order to watch the man's movements, with the result that he had both seen and heard more than he expected. "Let go, you bloke !” shouted the boy.

"Not if I know it, my young friend. I think you and I have met before. You got the best of me that time ; you won’t this." "You'll kill me ! Heads isn’t made to stand on," said the boy.

"No, except in moments of joy ; and you are feeling sad just now, so I’ll put you on your feet;" and with the utmost care, lest the urchin, who was as slippery as an eel, should Wriggle himself free, Parry transferred him from his head to.his feet.

"Now, my friend, I>think I'm indebted to you for a black eye. I interrupted your cogitations—which means, in your case, that you were putting your thoughts into words—and when I wanted to give you a little advice, you refused it most emphatically ; but fortune has favoured me, and I’m not going to let you slip until we’ve had a little talk, so you’re coming with me to my lodgings,” said Parry, as he drew the boy nearer, still holding him by the collar. "No, you don't !" he said, as he, saw the boy was trying to slip out Of his jacket. "And if you're a good boy and tell all you know, you will find it very much to your advantage.” \ "Cracky l groan in

••Well, nefver mind, my Iricncl ; you and I will] conic to a better understanding With facli other before we part. And] to begin with you may as well tell! me yoyr name." "In cotirse. T ’ might . Elizabeth Banks knows it ; and as I’m to have dinner with you she'll see me, I s’pose, when she brings in the lamb and green peas. So I'll just say as I'm called Jim Nixon. Some folks—impident folks —calls me Jim Will-o'-th’-wisp."

"And a very good name for you. Well, now, where does. Grannie live on whose behalf you were transgressing the law ?"

"Grannie has a mansion about a quarter pt a mile this side of the Three Tuns." •

"All right, I shall probably visit you there. Now, if you feel disposed to take me into your confidence further, you’ll find an attentive listener." Tho boy grinned, but made no answer, and they walked on in- silence, varied by *an occasional attempt on his part to get away ; but, a» Parry was on the alert, such attempts were defeated.

At last they reached Elizaboth Bank’s cottage, and 'the detective led the boy into the kitchen. "What’s he been a-doing ?" asked the mistress of the house, looking from her lodger to the boy. "I'm not quite sure, but we’re going to have a little talk, so don't bring any dinner in yet," replied .the detective as he led the boy into the room ; and still holding him firmly with one hand, he locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. Then standing with his back to the window, he Jet go his hold of the boy.

"You see your only way of escape is up the chimney, so you may as well take me into your confidence, because you'll never leave his room except to go to prison, or have anything to eat, until you’ve told mft what you know about the murder of young Mr. Needham, and also what became of Radiel, Lady Glynne." "Cracky ! If I’d known she was a grand lady, I shouldn’t have had you jawing at me to-day," said the boy. "Well, it’s not too late to remedy any mistake you’ve made. And to begin with, I want to know where you were on the night of the murder."

For a moment the lad hesitated ; then, glancing round, and seeing there was no hope of escape he said :

"I was in the tree close to tho wall, in the Stone House garden. I had been getting a few things as Grannie fancied ; then, when L was coming down, 1 heard voices, so 1 sat on one of the branches, as I did not want to be seen, and I might have been if I’d come down." "Did you recognize the voices ?” "No. T knew as one was a woman’s voice, and two of 'em’s. were men’s. One was a gentleman speaking I could have sworn." "Did you see anything ? Come, it is no use hesitating. I shall arrest you on the charge of being accessory after tho murder, which means you’ll be punished for holding your tongue; whereas if you tell me, you’ll only be turning King’s evidence, and will not get into trouble,” said Parry.

"Cracky, but you’re a fine one at talking. Well, 1 did see the moon just give a glint as the blow was struck, and 1 saw the 7nan as did it" Who was he?" and Parry’s voice betrayed the interest he felt.

•Well' it way. There was Rachel struggling'"'Witfc— j'-eupg Mr. Tom Needham, and the other man telling him to let her go ; but Mr. Tom wouldn’t. lie was all for having a kiss, but she wouldn’t let him, and round and round they went t’other man cursing and swearing at Mr. Tom. and trying to drag Rachel away. Then all at once 1 sees him stoop, and pick up something. Before I knows what he was going to do the* stick came down with a whop on the gentleman’s head, and he and Rachel fell all of a heap, and the next thing T saw was Rachel struggling from under the gentleman and she puts her hands to her head and gave a most awful shriek. Then she calls out. ‘lt’s murder ! You've murdered him!' My she was iu an awful way !” said the boy. "What was the name of the man who struck that blow?" said Parry, bending forward in his excitement. “X don't want to say it ; no, I don’t. The chap was mad with the way Mr. Tom was knocking Rachel about." "You'll have to tell me, or I’ll take you before a magistrate," said Parry. "Then if you will have it, the man was Dan Fletcher !" To be Continued.