THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13672, 10 April 1908, Page 6

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

■ • 1 BY ROBERT FRASER.

[OOPYBIGH^.] Published by Special Arrangement. CHAPTER Xlll.— Continued. Winter was anxious that few or none of/the^ Vicar.age. servants should know of Philip's return, so the two men entered by "a wicket-gate which led through the shrubbery. The detective Went on. alone, and asked to see the Vicar, who was ai home, and Warren waited, a foment in. the shadow ot the trees, whenoe, across the intervening gardens and meadow-land, ho could see the.windpws of the Greyhound Hotel. . 4 i ; Marjories bedroom, was situated in the front of the building; it was therefore invisible from his present standpoint, ( but there seemed to be some animation of lights in the back part of the house. Had Philip or the dfetective.read their significance aright it is probable that Hudston would have been spared some of the thrills it was destined yet to feel ere Robert Courthope's tomb saw its first border of spring flowers.. But, lights' in the upper floors* of a big country * hotel are riot prone tp carry occult messages to their observers, and Philip's mind was quickly dtfa/wn^ from them when the Frenoh widows of tho library opened ipr the 'darkness, and his nncle, bare-headed, " white-faced, with hands outstretched, came towards him across the lawn,' \ x For 'the -firat time in their lives those' ttwd Were: knit by a bond of sympathy never again to be relaxed. The cleric, cold, unbending, broadly dogmatic^ felt that he had never, striven to 'understand his romanticsoujed, nephqw, -while Philip was regretting thai he had toot tried to accommodate his high-Jflbwn theories oj existence to the world 'in which 4 he and all other men had to dwell. * They- clasped hands with a. little murmur of }oy that they wore met once more in friendliness.- Within the library,' with blirids drawn and lights on, it was easy to $cc that the younger man had - suffered hardships. He laughingly explained that he had borrowed a shirt from David Thompson, while he depended on the rain and dew for washing; "But why not trust some one. my dear boy?'? asked the Vicar. "If not me," he added pathetically, "you might have sent a message to Marjorie, or even to Davetfport." € ,TH tell you all about it, uncle, if you'll give me fifteen minutes' grace; the run 1 of the bath-room and some clean clothes. I suppose Davenport can be, warned that -I am here? ho added 1 , glancing at Winter. . "Yes. He will hold his tongue,' I guess. And what about Gating ? Some sandwiches and a glass «f 4 wine, if I may partake of your hospitality, Mr. Is&nbard " , , The" Vicar promised cheerfully that all would be done. Within five minutes "Philip, revelling : "in a hot bath, heard" a tap at the door, and the butler's eager whisper: "Here's the clothes you want, Mr. Philip, an' thank God you've come 'ome. Shall II put a fire in your room P" >. . ' "No, thanks, Davenport. That won l^ b© necessary, And be sure that I, too, am glad to be home again." But? -the, butler's question set him; thinking. ' - Would he sleep in* the Vicarage oe- in the village lock-up? WinteV hadbedn discreetly" vague in some respects.' Behold, >th»n, a wonderfully rejuvenated Philip, and a, Vicar from whose face the- anxious lines were vanishing with each succeeding moment, seated with Inspector Winter in the cosy library, .where Philip, as is- the failrnjK of- «very human being,, told his tale backwards, beginning with his trials and tribulations in Fennell's Tower, and ending with the real kernel of all the trouble, the duel and its causes. • Hence, he soon learned that Marjorie had recovered his ring from Felix, only to hare it stolen ( oj Hannah, and he gave little heed to Mr. Winter's expression of . blank amazement that a man should live the .life of a cold and hungry outcast during a fortnight simply For the sake of a heraldic ring. , „ "I knew I was doomed when I lost it," said Philip, 1 "and now I know it is coming back to me, because my evil fortunes are turning, and their reaction Vill be seen when I have- the ring pnee more on my finger. I simpjy could not tear myself away from' Hudston without it. I searched during the long hours of darkness in every nook and crevice 1 of Lancault, and was nearly caught twice, first by some unknown man, who might have been y.qu, Mr. Winter," whereat the detective nodded acquiescence, "and again by Marjorie, from whom I had to fly as though she were a witch." "But yirhyT' demanded the Vicar, spreading his hands in surprise. "Why fly from her* of all woraenJ*" "She, of all women, 'was the onewhom I had sworn neither to see < nor speak to fdr five Jong years. One Keeps an oath if one, takes it, uncle, and I didt not know until to-night that Robert Courthope wag dead. So you see that I had no alternative but to hide, your door being closed on me, partly by my own pride and partly by misunderstanding." Mr. Isambard smiled gently. "You are more generous thaa Marjorie, Philip. - She did not forgive so readily." "You forget, uncle, that she was the most cruelly used of any of us. 1 had to drive her from my sight on , our wedding-eve, so to speak. That was bad enough. When there was added to her private woe the public degradation of Courthbpe's murder and the inquest, I ' wonder she bore the shame and sorrow so well." "From what you say, and I believe every word of it,' you could not have killed Courthojpe either wilfully or by accident," said the Vicar. "It is evident, so far as human judgment can /determine/ that when you flung Courthope on his back on the slabs in the church, be was too spent to rise at once. You rushed away; he was at the very farthest bounds of exhaustion. White he was lying there, some one who had watched the dupl, though unseen himself, leaped forward the instant you had gone, saw some yjnovcniertt which betokened life in the man on the ground, and made sure of his deadly hope by seiainfc your tiwbrd and plunging it into Courthopo's breast." "That certainly seems to be the only possible* solution of the mystery. I have already uttered some suspicion. But Mr. Winter checked me, and, as

'yet, of course, I am not in possession of all the known threads of evidence. "It is a maxim of common sense, said the Vicar gnavely, "that where a crime is committed, one should look to the quarter where benefit accrues from. that crime." . . "Good Heavens!"" cried Philip, springing to his feet, "the only persons who benefited by - Courthope s death were Marjorie and myself." "Explain that, Mr. Warren," put in the detective ' instantly, though hitherto ho had left Hhe best part of the talk to uncle and nephew. "What is there to explain? Courthope's death not only released me from my vow, but made Marjorie a rich heiress. I gave no attention to that latter issue, because I was sure that I could overcomo Courthope without seriously injuring, him." Winter, displaying real excitement, rose also and caught Philip by the arm. "What are you saying?" he asked in a tense voice. ."How came it that Miss Neyland Syas to be anl heiress?" Philip pressed his hands to his forehead. "Let me I ' think ij"- he gasped. "WheiK poor Courthope ' forced me to fight — he said^-that ho saw clearly — that one or other of us 'must go, un-der—r-and, if it were he who fell — Marjorie wquld -be a rich woman — because that day he would make over to her all he possessed. Yes, that was it. Those ajfe about his 1 exact words. He said it was fair, that Avhoeyer won her should have, the money with her. And .'Robert Courthope was no liar. He made a will that day, an suro as lam alive., Isnft •it lenown ? Has no one spoken of this thing? His solicitor, Benne'tt; of Nut worth, must be aware of it. And there were witnesses, too -' ' "By the Lord t ' That is the hold Hannah has on James Courthope," Winter almost shouted. ' 'She was one of the witnesses and Bennett's clerk was another. • 1 'guessed -there was some hank.y-panky abotft that transfer of some small piece 6f land. . . Either it was a forgery, or- Jjkfbert Courthope did riot know. That rs it, of course. The transfer, was- got up afterwards, as lie must Itave roajd his own- wjll. What a conspiracy! And, how many people knew that Courthoßo would die t&at night ? This is the-biggest thing, I tell yott " (To be continued .>