JANET:

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VII, Issue 9, 28 February 1891, Page 4

JANET:

This serial commenced in the ‘ Graphic ’ on November 15. Back numbers may be obtained.

THE STORY OF A GOVERNESS.

By

MRS. OLIPHANT,

Author of ‘ Laird of Worlaw,’ ‘ Aftnes.'

CHAPTER XXXVIII. ! „ EMEMBEKING is a very slow < IAWI J process when your mind is con- . i.„ ' ( \\<™s IrfK fused by serious illness, weak|ness, and the breaking off for a time of all the threads of meansv B, ing in the mind. Meredith (. ’took it up again in the morn- ..' * n g’ an d worked very hard at •■ - : it, as he might have worked at <J’- a case i n his practice for the S' ■■ Bar or a mathematical problem. ut was harder than either BWjßlhsjjegg of those. He had made out easily enough his meeting with Janet at Mimpriss’s, and r guessed rather than remembered iMy ” that he had walked home with her, and thus exposed himself to being knocked down at Mrs Harwood’s door ; but he did not make out until he had returned to the question—his faculties freshened by a night’s sleep, and the new energy of the morning— why it was that he had met Janet, or that there was any special reason for their meeting. It flashed upon him all at once that he had made the appointment; that he had written to her to ask her to meet him ; and then he remembered all at once the papers and the mystery which the papers had thrown so little light upon. He half started from his couch with excitement when it buist upon him that he was under the same roof as the mysterious recluse in the wing, and laid himself open to a grave reproof from bis attendant, who called upon him to recollect that he had been very ill, that his escape was half miraculous, and that he put his health in jeopardy by suffering himself to get excited would be ‘ more than criminal.’ He believed that she meant scarcely less than criminal, but he was humble, and expressed the deepest penitence. ‘ I was only thinking,’he said, ‘and something suddenly flashed upon me.’ ‘ Thinking is the very worst thing you could do,’ said the nurse severely, ‘ and to have things flashing upon you is what I cannot allow. If it occurs again I must appeal to the doctor.’ The nurse was a lady, so that he could not quench her as he would have done had she been Mrs Gamp, and had to apologise again. But the compulsory pause did him good, for when he returned to the subject without any more starts and flashes, it all became clear to him again from the night of the ball upwards. The various events of that night came back like a picture to his mind. It had occupied him entirely in the snort intervals that occurred between that discovery and the assault upon him at Mrs Harwood’s door. Since then he had remembered nothing about it till now. And now—he was under the same roof —he would have, as he got better and better, unbounded opportunities of finding out what that mystery was. This very day the couch was to be discarded. He was to be allowed to walk into the other room ; to sit in a chair like other people. Vicars the mysterious would be under his eye, and Mrs Harwood —and Gussy in her present condition, softened with anxiety for him, and joy in his recovery, would disclose anything he might ask from} her. He knew that she would not keep any secret from him now—if she knew. He felt greatly elated by the idea of the discovery which was so near, which lay under his hand, which he must be able to complete with his present advantages, and the thought of it led him so far on. True, he had almost forgotten Janet and the immediate yet lesser problem which he had to solve, i.e., how he came to be knocked down and almost killed at Mrs Harwood’s and who had done it. He left the other subject with a sigh and came back to this again for the moment. Yes ; he had received from Janet the papers which she had put together for him—received them, he remembered, without a word, which had piqued and made him resolve to compromise Janet, and show her what a farce it was to be demure with him—at least, to compromise Janet as much as he could without compromising himself. It was for that reason, he remembered, that he insisted upon going all the way with and talking to her as only a lover had any right to do—for that reason, and also because she had a great attraction for him, far more than Gussy had ever had. He began to recollect even the things she "had said—her little struggles against his appropriation of her, her gradually yielding. All that is most delightful for a suitor of his kind to recollect. He liked to feel himself the cause of emotion in others—he smiled as he thought of it. Poor little Janet; she was angry and she was horrified. She felt probably that it was sue who had brought him into the great danger under which he had fallen, and she was desperate to see that bis illness had separated them more than ever, and made Gussy mistress of the situation. He forgave her, therefore, for her averted looks and unyielding face. She must know how it had all come about. He was certain from her looks that she knew, but she would not betray herself by telling, and he would not betray her by forcing her to tell, for in that case he would betray himself too. Who could it be who had fallen upon him, and assaulted him in that terrible way t Meredith was not conscious of having enemies of that old-fashioned turn. There might be plenty of men who did not like him, as there were plenty of men whom he did not like, but between that and trying to murder him there was a great difference. He was not a man of the highest morals, perhaps, but he did not inflict injuries which would give any man a right to fling himself u|s>n him in this way. 11 was a new idea to think that it might l>e a lover of Janet’s, but what lover

could Janet have—some young fellow from the country, perhaps, driven frantic by seeing his beloved in such close colloquy with another man. Meredith’s reason, however, rejected this hypothesis. The young man from the country would not be such a tragical fool as to rush upon an unknown stranger and try to murder solely because that stianger was walking home with his sweetheart. No ! and besides, he remembered something—something which had been presented to his intelligence at the very last moment before that intelligence was temporarily quenched—something—what was it that he remembered ? It was all perfectly clear up to this point. He saw every step as distinctly as if it were in a case he had studied from a brief, but here the evidence broke down. And yet it was lying somewhere in the corner of his mind if he could only get at it. He knew that it was there. ‘ How is our patient to day ?’ said Gussy, coming in with the privilege fff her long nursing after Meredith had made his toilette, and was lying on the sofa to rest from that operation. The nurse shook her head. ‘ Our patient,’ she said, ‘ has been thinking. He has been using his mind a great deal too much—he has been smiling to himself and knitting his brows as if he were trying to remember something. You will please to tell him, Miss Harwood, that this sort of thing will not do. I have done so, but he does not mind me. ’ ‘ How cruel of you to say so !’ said Meredith, ‘ when you know that I mind you in everything ! I never take an invigorating glass of soda-water without asking you if I may.’ She shook her head again. ‘ It is not glasses of soda water that are in question, but using jour head, Mr Meredith, when it’s not m a fit state.’ ‘ With two or three holes in it,’ said Meredith, ruefully. ‘ No ; it can’t,’ said Gussy, soothing him. ‘ I am glad you think you have found a clue, but that is enough for today.’ Yes, it was enough for to-day ; he was compelled in his weakness to acknowledge that he could do no more. ‘ But you must not think. You must not even attempt to think,’ said Gussy; ‘ thinking is not a thing for you to do. Promise me you will non try.’ He took her hand to reassure her, but he did not promise, and even in the act of holding Gussy’s hand and looking np tenderly into her face in requital of her care, he glanced round to make sure that Janet saw this little affectionate episode. He wished her to see, with a sense of pique at the indifference she had shown, and a desire that she should be made aware how little her indifference was shared by others. In his weak state it was doubly necessary to him to be surrounded by care and attention, to have ‘ love to wait upon and consider him in all things. He was pleased for himself to caress and be caressed, but he, he who loved to have a spectator to whom he could make those little traitorous asides, which increased his enjoyment, or whom he could at least mortify with the sight of his entire mastery over someone else if he had ceased to move her. But though this little play with the feelings of others pleased him, he did not give up on that account the quest upon which his mind had entered. Meredith had no inclination to let off or pardon the offender who had so nearly taken his life. Whoever it might be, he was determined to hunt him out and punish him. And he only relinquished this, the proving in his mind of putting together such evidence as he had got possession of and working it ont, as he might have put aside any piece of manual work till his fatigue had passed away and he was able to take it up again. It would not do to throw himself back by getting a headache by injuring his nerves or his sleep. His mind was sufficiently trained to enable him to do this ; to put thought aside when they hurt him, to take them back again when he was in a fit state to do so—which is a capacity always very astonishing to those who have never learnt to discipline and rule their thoughts. Janet thought with relief that whatever suspicions may have gleamed across him, whatever half recollections might have formed in his mind, they had passed away like clouds, when she saw him submitting to all Gussy’s half-nurse, halflover’s emotions, leaning back upon his pillows suffering himself to be silenced and soothed, smiling upon his anxious ministrant, and professing to do anything she told him. ‘ Was there ever so docile a slave ?’ he said ; ‘ I have no will but my lady’s ’ ‘You mean patient,’ said Gussy, with the soft flush that lit up her face, ‘and it is your nurse whom you obey.’ ‘Fortunately the two things are the same in my case,’ he said. To think that he could indulge in this badinage while his mind was still following out the thread upon which another man’s life hung, was incredible to Janet. She thought it had all passed from his mind, and that she and her secret, and still more, Dolff and his, were safe. And presently she was asked to go again and play for the soothing of the invalid, a request which she obeyed with suppressed indignation. Why should she be made to minister to him too—she whose eyes had been opened, who had just escaped, or hoped that she had escaped from him, almost at the risk of her life ? Janet was impatient of him, and half disappointed after the excitement into which his tentative questions and looks had thrown her, that-he had let it drop again and float off in nothingness. She was quieted from her fears, bnt she almost resented it, and despised the man who had so little nerve and force left. Janet was wrong, it need scarcely be said. Meredith retired a little earlier than usual on the pretence of being tired. He lay very still in the quiet of his room, which nobody but the nurse was now permitted to enter, till his headache was quite gone, and then he returned to the search of his own mind and recollections, and to the finding out of the something which he remembered, yet for the moment had forgot. CHAPTER XXXIX. No one noticed when Dolff stole ont of the room. The lamps had not been brought in, though afternoon had become dark. The fire glowed, bnt gave no flame. But it is wrong to say that no one noticed. Janet did not lose a movement of the unhappy yonng man, nor did Meredith, though he took no notice. Meredith said little : he was struggling with the force of this new discovery that had flashed upon his mind, and which not only cleared up the knotty point, bnt put meaning anti reason into a business hitherto incomprehensible to him. He had been unable to imagine who could have assaulted him, but when the aspect of Dolff suddenly struck upon his dormant memo-y and roused it Into keen life, he no longer found any difficulty in understanding. Dolff had seen him with Janet,

whom the lout imagined himself in love with. He had heard, perhaps, certain words of the conversation ; he had seen the clinging of Janet to Meredith’s arm, the hands held in his. Meredith thought he remembered now a figure with hat drawn and collar up at the window of Mimpriss’s shop. It was all explicable now ; he understood it. Dolff! It flashed upon him without doubt or uncertainty. There was something whimsical, bizarre about it which made him laugh. Dolff, whom he had always despised, a rowdy undergraduate, a music-hall man. Dolff, a troublesome boy, wanting even in the matured strength of a man, not his own match in any way. And to think that he had been carried into the house, and nursed with the profoundest devotion under the same roof with the cub wno had tried to take his life 1 Nobody had the least idea why Meredith laughed. It was at the detective, he said, though the detective was not ridiculous at all. And this was what had changed the looks of Janet, and given her that little tranquil air which, now he thought of it, was so ludicrous too. He had to make an effort to restrain that laugh. After the first thrill of anger, Meredith rejected as impossible the punishment of Dolff. It was not a thing that could be done. Such a scandal and disturbance of all existing ties could not be, even for himself —to have it published to the world that he had been knocked down and almost killed by the son of the house in which he spent most of his evenings, was impossible. At all hazards that danger must be staved off. But Meredith saw means of torturing both those culprits which would be very effectual without any intervention of the law. He would have Dolff at his mercy ; he would pierce him with arrows of ridicule from which it would be impossible for the young man to defend himself ; and Janet, who had forsaken him, who held apart, and even played for him, when she was bidden to do so, unwillingly —Janet should suffer too. Lights of malice and mockery woke up in Meredith’s eyes. He anticipated a great deal of fun from the return of the detective with the witness, who, no doubt, would collapse and come to nothing when inquired into. Meredith saw nothing but sport in this unthought of catastrophe. He had something of the feeling of the excited boy who has a cat or a dog to torture. He knew how to tickle Dolff up in the tenderest places, to keep him in a perpetual ferment of alarm, to hold endless threats over him ; and to watch his writhines would be all the more fun that the fellow would deserve it all, and more than that if he got his due. Thus delightfully pursuing his revenge, Meredith missed the moment when Dolff withdrew. But Janet saw it, with a terror impossible to describe. She would not go after him or advise him. Since these miseries had happened, it had become her charge to make the tea, and there she sat, conspicuous even in the fading light, unable to budge. She saw the unhappy young man strut out, and she knew that all kinds of desperate resolves must be in his mind. He would not have the courage to face it out. He would go away and he would conceal himself—do something to heighten suspicion and make every guess into certainty. And she could not go after him to warn him—to implore him to stand fast! The tortures which Meredith had imagined with such pleasure had begun in Janet’s breast. Dolff got out into the hall in a condition impossible to describe—his limbs were limp with misery and fear. Great drops of perspiration hung upon his forehead. He went blindly to snatch a hat from the stand ; then took, his coat for he was cold with mental agony, and struggled into it. While he was doing this, Vicars suddenly appeared by him, he could not tell how, and laid a hand on his master, which made Dolff jump. He darted back with an oath, and would have that moment turned and fled had not Vicars caught his arm again. ‘ Mr Dolff, what’s up ? For goodness’ sake don’t fly out like this. There’s one of those d d policemen watching on the other side of the road.’ Dolff stared wildly in Vicars’ face. ‘ Let me go,’ he said. ‘ I must go ; I don’t care where.’ ‘What’s up?’ said Vicars. ‘You’re in some row, Mr Dolff?’ ‘ Don’t you know ?’ said Dolff, wildly. ‘ That man’s coming back. If he comes back before I’m gone, it’s all up with me, Vicars. Get out of my way. I’ll go-by the garden door.’ ‘ And show yourself to all the women,’ said Vicars, ‘ who’ll tell the first word, “ Oh, he’s in the garden.” Mr Dolff, is it life or death ?’ Dolff could not speak. He stared dully at his questioner, unable to reply. The sound of the outer door pushed open, and men’s footsteps upon the path, came in like a sort of horrible accompaniment and explanation. The perspiration stood in great beads on Dolfirs forehead. He tried to make a bolt at the passage to the garden, which led by the open door of the kitchen. Then he drew himself up against the wall, in a half stupor, as if he could conceal himself so. ‘ Is it life or death ?’ said Vicars in his ear ; but Dolff could not speak. He bad a dim vision of the man’s face, of the light swimming in his eyes, of the knock upon the door of the house, ominous, awful, like a knell; and then he suddenly found himself drawn into darkness, into a warm, close atmosphere beyond the reach of that, or apparently of any other sound. Priscilla, always correct, but a little surprised, not knowing how to account for such an invasion of the drawingroom, ushered in the detective, accompanied by a man in a shabby coat, very inappropriate certainly to that locality. Mr Dolff had always spoken to such men in the hall. A parlourmaid is, above all things, an aristocrat. To have to introduce two such persons to her mistress’s presence offended her in the deepest sense of right and wrong. ‘ Is this the man ?’ said Meredith. ‘ Mrs Harwood, do you think we might have a little light ?’ ‘ Priscilla is bringing in the lamps,’ said Mrs Harwood, looking with a little suspicion and annoyance at the men, who certainly were much out of place—a feeling that there was danger in them somehow, though she could not tell how, crept into her mind. She looked anxiously at the dim figures looming against the light, and a thrill of alarm went through her. Why did Charley insisted on having them here ? Why did not Dolff see them in the hall, as he had done before ? She had. never had a policeman in her house ; never, except Trouble and tremor came over her as she sat there growing breathless in her chair. As for Gussy, she was insensible to every appeal, to every claim upon her attention, but one. She was Meredith’s sick nurse, watching lest he should be over fatigued, thinking of nothing else. There was no help or support in her for her mother's anxieties. When the lamps were brought in

matters were no better. A sort of Rembrandt-like depth of shadow fell upon the two strange figures, throwing a blackness over the tea table at which Janet was sitting, and showing only the form of Meredith in his chair, which even fell within the influence of the shaded light, and the awkward attitudes'of the two men in the middle of the room. • So this is the man who saw me—knocked down ?’ said Meredith. His face, which was the central light in that strange picture, was lit up with what seemed more like malicious fire than any other sentiment. * And you think vou could identify the fellow who did it ’ Is that so ’’ J ‘ You may thank your stars as you weren’t killed,’ said the new-comer. *He meant it, sir, that fellow did.’ • You think so 1 Well, he hasn’t succeeded, you see ; and you think you can identify him ’’ ‘Among a thousand, sir,’said the man. ‘Just you put him afore me in a crowd, and .I’ll pick him out afore you said Meredith, • haven’t you done it before now ’ Here are three weeks gone and plenty of time for him to have got away.’ . • He’s not got away ; I ve kept my eye upon him, and I have said to the police, times and times, as I could lay my hands upon him as soon as ever he was wanted.’ - • I thought,’ said Meredith, a criminal was wanted from the moment he put himself in the power of the law. You should have secured him at once ; to keep your eye upon a man is not a process known to the law.’ ‘ I don’t know about the law, sir, said the man. ‘I know that I’ve been ready any day. I told ’em so the very first night, but they’ve never paid no attention to me, not till this gentleman was put on as knows me,, and knows as he can trust to my word.’ ‘ Yes,’ said Meredith solemnly, ‘ I’m glad to hear you can have such good recommendations. Is it necessary you should have a thousand to choose from before you tell us who my assailant is ’ —because, you see, it would be a little difficult to have them in here.’ ‘ Oh !’ cried the man angrily, ‘ a deal fewer than a thousand will do—if you’ll just collect all there is in the house

‘ In the house cried Mrs Harwood, •but what is the use of that’ We know beforehand that there is nobody in this house who would lay a finger ’ she stopped with an indefinite ■choking sensation in her throat, suddenly perceiving that Dolff had gone away. It was not distinct enough to mean suspicion of Dolff—suspicion of Dolff! what folly and insanity—but why should he have gone away ? ‘I thought as you said the young gentleman was here,’ said the witness, turning to his guide. * I told you as you’d never find him when you went ‘ It don’t matter much,’ said the other, in a low tone, ‘ he can’t go far, there’s two of my mates outside.’ The ladies did not catch the meaning of this colloquy, though it raised the most bewildering alarm in Mrs Harwood’s breast. Gussy still thought of it alone as it affected the health of her beloved. She stood by him, her attention concentrated on him, watching whether he grew pale, whether he flushed, if he seemed tired. Her mother’s anxious look awakened no sympathy in < fussy’s mind. If she observed it at all she set it down to the same cause as made herself anxious, -the fear that Meredith might be over-excited or fatigued. ‘ Do you want the maids and all ?' said Meredith, in his familiar tone of banter. ‘ Yoh don’t think much of me, my good man, if you think I could be battered like that by—Priscilla, for instance,’ he said, turning to Mrs Harwood with a laugh. ‘ I was thinking o no Priscilla,’ said the man, angrily. ‘ If it suits you to laugh at it, gentleman, it don’t suit me, There’s a reward out. And when I see as clear as I sees yon. I should think it was a man, and a strong one, too. Lord, how savage he took you up again and dashed your ’ead against the pavement ! I should know him anywhere, among a thousand.’ ‘ Charley,’ said Mrs Harwood, faintly, • there is something dreadful in all this. Do you think it could be put off to another time ’ or couldn’t they just go and do their duty, whatever it is, without freezing the blood in our veins, and,’ she added, catching Gussy’s look, ‘ exhausting you ?’ ‘ I’m sorry to trouble the lady, sir,’ said the detective. ‘ I shouldn’t have said anything if I could have helped it; but to tell you the truth, suspicion does attach to a person in the house. If the young gentleman had stayed ana faced it things might have been done quiet. But as he's gone away search warrant, and I must find my man. You’ll explain it to ’em, sir, as I can’t help it, and it was no wish of mine to upset the house. ’ • A search warrant ! Oh, my God ! what does he mean 1 cried Mrs Harwood. She added, in her bewilderment, ‘ That could have nothing to do with Charley,’ under her breath. ‘ I have no more idea than you have,’ said Meredith ; ‘ some one in this house ? It must be old Vicars they mean. Come, my man, don’t be too absurd. If you think that old fellow would play at pitch-and-toss with me in the way you •describe, you must have a precious poor opinion of me. But I suppose Vicars can be sent for —if he’s in the house.’ ‘ I don’t know nothing about Vicars, not who he is. Where’s that young gentleman ? What did he go away for

when he knew as he was wanted ? You produce that young gentleman, and then you’ll see what we means,’ said the witness, in great wrath. ‘ Hold your noise,’ said the policeman. * I daresay it’s all nonsense when we come to the bottom of it; and I’m sure I’m very sorry to disturb the ladies ; but I must just ’ave a few words with the young gentleman. Most likely he can clear it all up.’ * Dolff'.’ said Mrs Harwood, with an amazed cry. * Dolff!’ cried Meredith with a burst of laughter. His apparent appreciation of this as an excellent joke confused the two men. They looked at each other again for mutual support. ‘ You’d not have laughed if you’d seen him as I did,’ growled the stranger. ‘ I felt—him, whoever he was, as you didn’t my man ; and it is evident you think me a poor creature, to be battered about by a boy—or a woman. Come, there’s enough of this nonsense,’ he said. ‘ Why didn’t you seize the fellow when you saw him ? What do you mean, coming with this cock-and-a-bull story three weeks after —and to me ?’ * Produce the young gentleman, sir, and let me just ask him a few questions.’

‘ I haven’t got him in my pocket,’ said Meredith. ‘ Probably he has gone out. If he were here, I should not allow him to answer your questions. I’m his legal adviser. Come, come, don't let’s have any more of this.’ ‘ If he has gone out,’ said the policeman, ‘ by this time he’s in the hands of my mate —and if he haven’t I’ve a right to search the house. You’d better produce him, Mister—or yon lady, before it’s too late.’ Janet, unable to bear the scene which was thus rising to a climax, had got up out of the shadow and left the room a moment before. The hall was perfectly vacant, not a trace of anyone in it—not even Priscilla going about her business, or the nurse in the dining room, which was still sacred to the invalid. The lamp burned steadily, the silence was dreadful to the excited girl. It seemed like the pause of fate—not a sound within or without—even the voices, subdued by distance, but generally audible in a cheerful hum from the kitchen, were hushed to-night. CHAPTER XL. ‘ I MUST go after them ; I must, I must follow them I Oh, Dolff, where are you, where are you ?’ cried Mrs Harwood. She was wild with excitement and alarm, her face alter-

nately Hushed and paled, her form trembling with endeavour to move, to push herself forward, to follow those dreadful emissaries of the law whose heavy steps were very audible, now on the stairs, now overhead. The other members of the party were in strange contrast to her anxiety. Meredith lay back in his chair rubbing his hands, moved apparently by the supremest sense of the ludicrous, unable to see it in any but a ridiculous light. Gussy leaned on the back of his chair, smiling in sympathy with him, yet a little pale and wondering, beginning to realise that something disagreeable, painful, might be going on, though it did not mean fatigue or excitement to her patient. Julia, finally roused from her book, had got up bewildered, and stood asking what was the matter, getting no reply from anyone. The door of the drawing-room had been left open, and across the hall, at the opposite door of what was now Meredith’s room, stood the nurse in her white cap and apron, with a wondering face, looking out. * I thought I knew a great deal about the folly of the authorities,’ said Meredith, ‘ aitd of Scotland Yard in particular, but this is the climax. By-the-bye, I see an opjxirtunity for a great sensation, which, if I were at the Old Bailey, would make my fortune. “ The prisoner accused of a murderous assault upon Mr Meredith was defended by tnat gentleman in person.” What a situation for the pris—one might add, who is a family connection, eh, Gussy ?’ he said, putting up his hand to take hers, which was upon the back of his chair. ‘ Oh, Charley ! but speak to mamma. Mamma is miserable. Everything about Dolff makes her so anxious.’ * Even such an excellent joke ?’ said Meredith ; but he did not say anything to comfort Mrs Harwood. In the midst of his laugh a sudden gravity came over him. He looked at her again with a quick, scrutinising glance. Dolff was not all. She had been bewildered—taken by surprise, but not really anxious about her son. Now, however, as she sat listening, waiting, her suspense became unlieai able. A woman imprisoned in her chair, never moving, unable to walk a step, she looked as if at any moment she might dart out of it and Hing herself after the invaders. Her hands moved uneasily upon the arms of her chair, plucking at them as if to laise herself. The Tight in her eyes was a wild glare of desperation. The colour fluttered on her face, now ebbing away and leaving her ghastly, now coming back with a sudden flush. He remembered suddenly all that might be involved in a search of that house, and that for anything he knew a secret which it was of the utmost importance he should fathom now lay, as it were, within reach of his hand. He became serious all at once, the laugh passing suddenly from his face. He got up, but not to stop the examination, as Gussy hoped. He did not even stop to soothe Mrs Harwood, but strolled out into thehall on his unsteady limbs, forgetting them all. ‘ I must go after them,’ Mrs Harwood cried again, half-raising herself in her chair. • I must go after them. Gussy, they may go—how can we tell where they may go ?’ ‘No, mamma, there is nothing to be alarmed about. Vicars will see to that. ’

‘How can we tell where Vicars is? I have been afraid of something of the kind all my life. Gussy, I must go myself. I must go myself.’ ‘Oh, hush, mamma !’said Gussy ; she was not alarmed about a risk which had never frightened her at all. Mrs Harwood was always nervous ; but Gussy, who had been used to it for years, had never believed that anything would happen. So long as Charley did not throw himself back—was not over excited. This was what Gussy most feared. ‘ I’ll take you wherever you like, mamma,’ said Julia, coming with a rush to the back of the chair, and projecting her mother into the hall with a force which nearly shook her out of it. Mrs Harwood’s precipitate progress was arrested by Meredith, who called out to Julia to go softly, anti caught at the arm of the chair as it swung past. ‘ Are you coming too, to keep an eyeon them ?’ he said. ‘ I don’t like,’ said Mrs Harwood, trying to subdue the trembling of her lips, ‘ to have such people all over my house.’ ‘ Oh, they are honest enough ; there will be no picking or stealing. As for the thing itself, it’s a farce. I daresay Dolff has gone out. And if not, what does it matter ? If there is any such ridiculous idea about, you had better meet it and be done with it. It’s a wonder they don’t arrest me for knocking down myself.’ •Oh,’ said Mrs Harwood, faintly, ‘I am not afraid for Dolff.’ ‘ There can be nothing else that you’re afraid of,’ said Meredith, in his careless tones. ‘ A search by the police is nothing unless there happens to be something for them to find out. Nothing is of any importance unless it is true. They may search till they are tired, but, so long as there is nobody in hiding, what can it matter ? Don’t trouble yourself about nothing Let me take you back to your comfortable fireside.’ * No, no,’ said Mrs Harwood, more and more troubled ; ‘ I will stay here.’ He hail not, it was evident, found the way to save her, with all his philosophy. ‘No?’ said Meredith, interrogatively. ‘ It’s rather cold here, however, after the cosiness of the drawing-room. I hope you'll not catch cold. If it is any satisfaction to you, of course, there’s nothing to be said, but I should think you

might let me look out for these fellows and send them off. Julia 13-1 me,' be alJei with a wa»e of hie han«i to Julia, and the smile which wa- so exasperating He kept wondering all the time where Janet was—Janet, who had disap (eared without attracting any notice, and who probably. be thought, had helped to smuggle Dolff away somewhere, uselessly, because when such an accusation was once made it was niueb better to brave it out. It was like the folly of woman to try to smuggle him away, when the only thing was to brave it out. * This is the only place where there is no draught,' he said, pushing Mrs Harwood's chair directly in front of the door which led to the wing—the door which on the night of the ball be and Janet had miraculously found unfastened. The door, he remarked once me re, had every appearance of being a door built up and impracticable. To say in a care-fully-kept house like this that it was covered with dust would not have teen true, but there was an air about it as if it had l«een covered with dust- Meredith smiled at himself while be made this reflection. His heart was singularly buoyant and free, full of excitement, yet of pleasurable excitement. He was on the eve of finding out something he wanted to find out, and he was most particularly concerned that the circumstances which favoured him should overwhelm Mrs Harwood. He placed her almost exactly in front of the door as if she had intended to veil it, and drew over one of the hall chairs beside her, and threw himself down upon it- * This is the most sheltered spot,’ he said, * out of reach of the door and several other draughts. If you will stay out in the hall and catch cold, Mrs Harwood, you are safest here.' She glanced at the door as be drew her up to it with a repressed shudder. She had l-ecome deadly (ale, and in the faint light looked as if she had suddenly tecome a hundred years old, withered and shrunken up with age. Julia verymuch startled, and with eyes wide open and astonished, stood by her mother. * I shouldn't have put her by that nasty shut up door; there is always a wind from under it,’ she said. * Hush —oh, bush '' said Mr- Harwood with a shiver. The detective and his companion were coming downstairs, led by the sniffing and contemptuous Priseilia. They came down cautiously with their heavy boots, as if they might have slipped on the soft carpets. ‘ Well,' said Meredith, as they came in sight, • found anything T We are waiting here to hear your news.’ * No, sir : the young gentleman have got clean away, so fa: as I can see,' said the policeman ; * but you know, sir, as well as roe, for a man that's known to struggle with the p'leece is no good. He’ll l<e got, sooner or later, and it's far better to give himself up at once/ * That is exactly my opinion,' said Meredith, ‘ and 1 should have given him that advice if either of us had known : but, you see, a young gentleman who has nothing on his conscience does not think what it is wisest to do about the police, for he dees not expect to hat e anything to do with them. ‘ ‘ I hope he have as ea-y a conscience as that,’ said the detective. ‘ I hope he has, and I don't doubt it, either. Well—what are you going to do now ’ You've looked through all this part of the house, I suppose f * We began with the upper rooms first.' * That was scarcely wise of you,’ said Meredith, ‘ he might have popped out of one of those rooms and run for it, while you were busy upstairs/ * Scarcely that, sir,' said the policeman with a grin—and he opened the door, revealing suddenly a colleague erect and burly in his blue uniform upon the step oatside. This sight made even Meredith silent for a moment It made the peril and the watch real, and brought before him all the difficulties to be encountered if Etolff ( which seemed incredible) should actually be taken, committed to prison, and tried for a murderous attack upon his own life. It was so appalling, and he knew so little how to meet it if it really became an actual situation to be reckoned with, that for a moment he was stunned, then be thought it best to burst into a laugh. The effect on Mrs Harwood was naturally still more serious. The poor lady began to say : *ls it my boy, my Dolff, that they are hunting down like that * Oh ! Charley, you are the only one who can tell them how—how ridiculous it is—tell them it’s not true.' * I'm very sorry, ma'am, to disturb you,' said the policeman, ‘ but will you just move your chair from that door* I pardon, I didn't know the lady couldn't move—let me do it—thank yon, Miss— away from that door.’ 'That's not a door," said Julia promptly, ‘it's been shut up ever since I remember : that is the dining room where Charley Meredith lives, and that's the library that is standing open. And this is the passage that leads to the kitchen and the pantry. And there's the drawing-room on the other side, and this a cupboard, and this ’ ‘ Beg your pardon, Miss, we'll find them all out as we coroes to them,’ the man said. * It’s hard work, and it’s harder still v.'.en we haves to do it in the face of a lot of ladies as is innocent of everything, and don’t even know what we means when we speak. Won’t you say to the lady, sir, as she'll be far better in her own room, and to let us do what is our painful dooty ** ‘ It is unnecessary for you to say anything. Charley,’ said Mrs Harwood : * if my bouse is to" be treated like a thieves’ •sen, at least I shall be here.’ *lf it upsets you, lady, don't blame us,' said the police man, respectfully enough. They went through all the rooms while she sat watching, Meredith lounging beside her in a ehair, occasionally getting up to take a turn about the halt If the policeman had been a man of any penetration, he would have seen that his investigations in these rooms sere of no interest to the watchers, but that their excitement grew fierce every time be emerged into the hall. Meredith felt the fire in his veins burn stronger as they came hack and forth. It was with difficulty be could restrain his agitation. Mrs Harwood’s ehair had been pushed aside, leaving the access open to that mysterious door. She sat with her bead turned away a little, her hands clasped together, an image of suspense and painful anxiety, listening for the men's steps as they drew nearer. Gussv had followed the rest of the party, though it was against ail her priDcitJes to yield to this excitement and make a show, as she said, of her feelings. She was vexed especially to see her mother ‘ give way.’ * Let me put you back into the drawing room, mammaWhat is the use of sussing here ? Dolff has gone out, evidently. It is very silly of him, bet still be has done so. II win do him no good for you to catch eold here. Charley, do tell Her to come in. Xs for you, you will throw your-

self back a week at least. Ob, for goodness' sake, do not make everything worse staying here !’ Mrs Harwood made no reply. She shook her head with speechless impatience, and turned her face away. She was beyond all considerations but one, and she would not have any interruptions, a voice, a round, which kept her strained ears from the knowledge of the men's movements, and where they were. Gussy's whisper continued to Meredith was torture to her. She raised b<*r hand with an impeta tire gesture to have silence, silence. Her heart beating in her ears like a sledge hammer rising and falling was surely enough, without having any whisperings and foolish, vain, ineffectual words. • There's nothing now but this door," said the policeman, ooming out somewhat crestfallen. * He's nowhere else, that's clear. If be ain't here he's given ns the slip—for a moment. Hallo ! it's locked, this one is ! I'll thank, you, sir, to get me the key.' *1 have always understood,' said Meredith blandly, ’that the door wx- built up, or fastened up. Is has never been used since I have known the house.' • I told you so,' said Julia, *if you had listened to me. It isn’t a door at all. and leads to nowhere. It was once the door of the wing.' she continued, with the liking of a child for giving information, ‘ but it has never once been o|<en since ever 1 wa* born. • The wing ! that's them empty rooms as we see from the garden—the very place for a man to hide. Tell you, what, sir, I can t bear to upset the lady— but we must break in if we can't get in quietly. You might try if you couldn't get us the key, and take the lady away— anyhow get the old lady to go away—whatever happens she'd better not be here.’ Mrs Har wood spoke quickly in a hoarse and broken voice, • There is no key,' she said. • I give you five minutes to think of it. lady,’ said the man, ‘ ot berwise we must break in the door.' There was a dreadful silence—a silence which no one dared to break. *I am telling you the truth, you cannot open it, it has always been shut up. There is no key.’ (TO BE CONnxrUED.I