THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13662, 28 March 1908, Page 6

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

BY ROBERT FRASER.

[copyright.]

Published by Special Arrangement.

CHAPTER, ,I£,— Continued. "Thank you," said Mr. Winter; "some day perhaps I may come across it." "Ah, if it could only be found, and given to him! I believe that it would re-inspire him with hope and spirit, and that migKt make everything different — perhaps he would come out of his hiding, explain his innocence . . L I '

"You seem very sure that he has an innocence to explain," commented the detective, smiling ever. "Yes, sure. And every hour more sure. - Oh, Inspector Winter, believe in me! It is as I say!" . . "Sh-h-h! Doii't lift your voice." He opened the door rapidly, and closed it softly again. "You are a queer young .lady to speak like that to me! When yo usay 'innocent/ what do you mean? That you think he didn't fight, or what?"

"Kill, I mean, kill! Mr. Robert Courthppe died by some other hand j» . "Sh-h-ii! — for goodness' sakel You must not harbour such surmises without the least grounds. May I ask if you have happened to mention these unfounded suspicions to any one?" "No, for I have only had them this morning since I found the envelope and note " "Only this morning, you see. They can hardly be worth a great deal, can they?" "Ah, they may! We shall see. I haven't begun to think yet, but I mean to!"

Inspector Winter took two turns through the room, without making any answer. Then, with a very grave face and quite a change of tone, he said: "I heard that you were going to London, Miss Neyland. Isn't that the case?"

How on earth ?"

"It is my business to know things, you know. But aren't you going still?" "No, I shall stay." "Weil, inore's the pity," said he, half aloud. "Pity? But why?" asked Marjorie. "Did I say 'pity'? I mean that this is such a dead and alive little place for a lady like yourself,, accustomed to London life. And suppose I t-dd that, it may possibly prove beneficial to the interests, you have at heart if you got clear away out of here. Will you go then?" "No. Not unless you will be so good as to explain yourself. lam staying here for that very reason in order to see if, sooner or later, by [hick or witj I may not be .able to !do something for the protection, of the [man I love. ' '

"But what can you ever do?" Ihe emphasis was gentle, but genuine. "Why not leave it to those who know their way about better than you, who, if there's anything to be don^, will do it? I can see that you are rather too sharp for this business — too sharp, and not sharp enough, and that is a ■combination only too likely to work 'mischief." ' . •

"Unfortunately, I don't understand you," retorted Marjorie, watching him closery. "I -am not going to work any mischief, I am going to work good."

"Well, have it your own way, Miss Neyland. But, at least, listen to this. Supposing those far-fetched notions of yours do have any grounds — I say supposing-^-do you understand — well, that it will be better never to breathe one word of them to a living soul — except me? It is easy to see, isn't it, that you might only succeed iif putting others on' their guard?" "I see! That is why you^want me to go away I" she cried. "I see, I am too sharp, and not sharp enough, having a woman's head. Still, you may be certain, Inspector Winter, that I shall not fail to follow y.our hint as to secrecy} and, am I to take it, then, that you, too, harbour these same for-fetched suspicions of mine, since you are bo anxious for my silence P" "Never a bit — pooh! Never a bit!" He reached for his cigar again. "1 believe that you do really, but you won't take me into partnership, though it has happened that the stone which the builders rejected became in the end the head of the corner. However, I am delighted to imagine you secretly on my side, and mean to run you a friendly race to the goal." Steadily during tho interview Marjdrie's (> spirits had heightened, hence this challenge, which the inspector heard like "the idle wind." She rose, saying: "I only want now to ask you whether the police have any hope of. capturing Philip Warren soon? Nothing ought to be easier, considering his characteristic appearance, his abundant wavy hair, his velvet jacket, his Cavalier fare, his splendid figure and striking profile."

"I know it all," said Winter, smiling upon her. "Will you catch him soon?" 'So I am to give you the secrets cf the authorities, Miss Njyland?" ''Keep your secrets," said she. "I only hope that he will be caught, and that it wiJl he you who do it, for I believe in you. But you had better bo quick, or I will beat you." With this jest Marjorie walked out, leaving the envelope 'and note with the inspector, who, on her departure, went to peep after her from behind a window curtajn ? and watched the poetry of her motion down the street with the murmur of, "I am beginning to understand that li^ht!" white she, on arriving at the Greyhound, shut herself away in her part of the house to avoid an enconnter with Hannah or the others, until sho knew that the inciuest bad begun. In her room almost alone that day she had knit Jher brows to tho problems of the event which had so suddenly overshadowed her life, though her thoughts wore somewhat distracted r»y her waiting for tho verdict of the coroner's jury. She hoped now that, with that noto of Philip's endorsed by the Squire's writing* and with all the fresh doubts that this must rouse, no twelve men in Hudston would dare to utto rthoso. terrible words: "Wilful murder." '

But the waiting was painfully long. All the afternoon the schoolroom continued pregnant 'with its big conference, till, toward evening, unable any more to sit still, Marjono sallied out into the empty village to go to Lancault, to give effect to her notion ot searching Tor the signet-ring.

When she had climbed over the slab into the little church, her heart all at once failed her when she thought of her promise to search there for a year. A week might have been better, since human patience has its limits. For she saw at a glance that the ring could not be in the church itself, all the grass having been removed, and the- floor quite integral. However, like overy character of any worth, she had a stout belief in her own powers and luck, and she set herself the large task of searching the surrounding bracken, bit by bit, day by day, in a methodical way, till hope shouia 'merge into despair in her heart. There aud then she began the work. But in tho midst of it the gloom of evening dropped down upon her ; in there in the church there were bloodstains on the stones; and all at once panic seized liar, and sho could stay not another moment in the place, but hurried away with more than one backward look.

She reached home just iv time before the schoolroom poured forth its througj aud was taking off her hat when Auat Margaret bustled into the room with an awed .whisper of "The Vicar!" ' '

Mr. Isambard had come himself to give to Margaret the day's news. With a strained note in his voice he told her how Mr. Hardiuge had made a speech that .would establish his reputation, holding up each of the threads of the case before the jury's eyes, to demonstrate that Warren might, after all, have taken the Squire's life in sheer self -defence! ; how Jig had converted half Hudston to his view; and how Marjories sister had been so heckled that at one time she had shown signs 'Of fainting. . "Was that when they were asking her about tho envelope and note?" asked Marjorie. . "No, when she was being crossexamined as to her summons to the Hail on the afternoon of the tragedy," answered Mr. Isambard. "It was tnought extraordinary that the Squire should have chosen\her as the witness of a document, when thero were no end of witnesses rfeady to hand about him, ami when tho document was apparently not one of any importance to any one connepted with Hannah." "And what was the nature of the document, sir?" .

"A mere assignment of some pasture lands — Mr. Bennett, of Nutworth, produced It in court .1 He said that the Squire expressed a wish to have. Hannah as a 'witness* he did not know why. So Hannah was sent for, and duly signed the instrument." "I noticed her, go out during the afternoon tha|; day," said Marjorie. "She did not mentjion to me why. But I don't see anything in that to cau&e her to faint." „ - "Well, the poor kirl was persistently heckled by both lawyers," said the Vicar, "not only bs to that, Smt as to her finding of the envelope and note, as to her reasons for concealing them, as to her whereabouts on the evening of the stragedy, aud other matters. All this dig not seen very pertinent to the oase, and the village folk felt that shft was being browbeateu. IlpwoverL she won through, and, as she stood down, Mr. Whitaker for she police first spoke, and then! Hardinge, leaving 'between them upon the mind an impression that all the wonder-workers' of time and space had a x hand in that ' business that night! How, asked Mr. 'Hardinge, explain the fact that the dead man was without his coat, excSptf on. the theory of a duel? The^Ottlp-rit, said Whitaker, might have tal&p it off after the death to give an impression of a duel. But would he have takeu all that pains, said Ha*diuge/'and yet leave his sword sticking in the. dead man's breast, seeing that the sword was not fixed into any bone, but came, away easily, as P.O. Bates had deposed? But, re^ torted Whitaker, the mere fact of the sword left in ,(the breast was a disproof of a duel,- seeing "that, in a duel, the victor does ' not, of course, part with his Weapon on delivering the stab. But, then, asked Hardinge, how account for the, three additional flesh wounds, mere pricks, on the 'deceased, except on the theory,' of a duel? ov for the wound>on Warren's hand, deposed to by Miss Neyland? or for the blood-stained handkerchief of the Squiro, used to wipe a small-sword — certainly not the small-sword found in the Squire, but some other? How, above all, account for tho fact that Warren's note, declaring a duel, was found in the Squire's envelope directed to the County Coroner? So the two lawyers bandied the ball between them with no little nfmbleness of wit, but all tho time worse confusing confusion, while I remarked that Inspector Winter's face was the image of quiet amusement at .the battle of brains taking place before him." "But the verdict, sir; you keep that from me," said Marjorie. "Does it' really 'matter? It was what it had to be," said Mr. Isanibard, gently. "The coroner told the jury that tho question whetKer there had been a duel ot| no was, he feared, one far beyond their wit, to decide. Moreover, it had nothing to do with the question whother'or no Robert Courthope was wilfully murdered. And the q'ury, after a short, talk, gave their verdict — accordingly/* Tbis^Marjorio jn ner" heart must have expectect, yet'^'fell upon her as such a shock" that s)ije., Iso1 sot A in ( a stony silence, seeing a/visioa't'f tbat.evpr-joyous face of Philip Warreri, which > one week before had moved in Kunshino before hor imagination liko Apollo, and now wju> banished, branded, all overwhelmed in cloud aud darkness. ' (To bo continued.)